Bottoms up - Saturnalia8 - Atee*z (Band) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

“You okay there, buddy?”

Yunho jolts, like he’d been sleeping with his eyes open. Which, well, maybe he had been. Does drunken stupor count as sleeping? Okay, maybe he’s not there yet, but he should be well on his way, hopefully.

He doesn’t look up at the person the deep voice belongs to. Like, if he can’t see them, maybe they can’t see him?

He’s leaning on the bar with his elbows, palms pressed just above his eyebrows. His eyes have been staring at the smooth mahogany, watching condensation from the drink caged in by his arms drip down into an ever growing puddle on the wood.

Elegant fingers belonging to a large palm, attached to a surprisingly dainty wrist sporting a mishmash of leather straps, beads and a silver chain bracelet sneak into the cradle of his arms and gently rap unfairly attractive knuckles on the bar to get his attention.

Great, a nosy bartender. Guess it’s not his lucky night then. Yunho almost snorts. He can’t remember the last time he was anything as mundane as lucky. His life has been lurching from one dramatic clusterf*ck to the next recently.

He grunts and hopes it vaguely communicates that yes, he’s still breathing and to leave me the f*ck alone, please and thank you.

He bends his head down deeper into his arms briefly to take a sip of his drink, but his lips miss the teeny straw a couple of times. For f*ck’s sake. He lets his long forearms fall to the bar and cups the infernal drink until he catches the straw. He immediately winces. f*cking hell that’s foul.

He hears a gravelly chuckle from behind the bar and it immediately pisses Yunho off further. He just knows this guy is hot and Yunho has no time for this sh*t.

“Looks like you’re having a bad day.”

Understatement of the f*cking year. One side of his upper lip curls up, eyes still on his drink. His fingers start shredding a stray little back napkin left on the bar.

“What gave it away, huh?”

He’s aiming for snark, but fears it ends up just a little too sour. It tastes foreign in his mouth. Yunho’s not like this. His friends would be absolutely shocked if they could see him. But they’re not here and he’s in an unfamiliar place and he is just so f*cking tired of being good all the time.

A pair of very nice forearms slides into his peripheral vision, those damn hands carding together loosely atop the bar next to Yunho.

“Well, it’s 6pm and you smell like yesterday.”

Okay, f*ck this guy. He’s a paying customer and he doesn’t need to be f*cking insulted like this. He surreptitiously whiffs his cheap suit. He can’t quite smell anything beyond the cheap liquor on his own breath. Ah.

Still, his eyes shoot up to give this asshole a withering glare. But he knows immediately it’s a mistake, because he catches a faceful of cute eyes creased into amused crescents, a perfectly straight nose and an adorably crooked tooth biting down on a soft, soft, pillowy lip in an attempt to suppress a grin. Hottie with the arms fails miserably.

Yunho can’t quite stop a sharp intake of breath, but covers it with a deep drag of his drink. His mouth twists in disgust.

“Here.” The bartender wraps those damn fingers around Yunho’s drink. A few of his nails are painted black with some patterns drawn in white, which distracts him enough to be too slow to protest when annoying hottie dumps it unceremoniously in the sink.

“Oi, I was drinking that!”

Yunho shoots out a hand of his own and it connects with a forearm that he definitely will not be having a wank over later.

Hottie absolutely eviscerates Yunho by pulling up one corner of his mouth and flashing him the dimple to end all dimples.

“Relax man, I’ll make you something else.” He sniffs the empty glass and rears back. “Something drinkable. Ugh, who served you this sh*t?”

Yunho realises a second too late to be socially acceptable that his hand is still on the bartender’s arm. He lets go abruptly and sinks back down on his stool.

“Um, he was chatty, laughs like a squeaky toy, about yea high?” He lifts a hand barely above the bar. Okay, maybe it’s a little mean, but he had served him a drink Yunho was pretty sure violated at least seven health and safety laws.

“Wooyoung.” Nosy hottie smiles again and shakes his head. “He’s been on a mission to bring sambuca back and I keep telling him it was never a thing to begin with, and for a reason.”

Yunho only half hears what he says, too entranced by the hands expertly pouring liquor and mixers, cutting a perfect peel of orange and singing it off. The rolled-up sleeves of hottie’s black button down show off both the corded muscles in his forearms and his defined biceps. Well f*ck, Yunho never knew he was such an arm guy.

Then again, he’d only had one flavour of partner for the past few years and that had been a mix of bitter and disappointment. So.

“Try this.”

Yunho wants to hate it, he really does. This guy dunked out his drink, hasn’t taken a hint at all and is too up in his business. But sh*t if that’s not the best drink he’s ever had. The bastard.

He’s a bit too sozzled to stop a surprised appreciative hum from escaping and the bartender looks smug as hell.

Despite his best intentions, Yunho finds his mood is lifting. This guy is supremely unbothered by his obvious effort to be a prickly dick that scares off everything in a 10-foot radius. Instead of necking the drink like he’d first intended, he’s savouring it.

“Well?”

Yunho squints at him for a second, but when he sees a touch of real anxiety slip across the other man’s face, he relents.

He heaves a dramatic sigh. “It’s annoyingly good.” He takes another sip.

Hottie does a happy little wiggle and Yunho feels like some of his internal organs might give out. Is this guy for real? It’s like someone hacked his brain, looked at all of his r-rated fantasies and brought this creature to life. f*ck.

“Can’t you let a guy be miserable in peace?” Yunho groans.

Cutie tilts his head and worries that damn bottom lip. Yunho’s sure he’s staring, but it’s not his fault okay. A little frown creases his brow and Yunho has the humiliating urge to bite it. Must be the booze and depression speaking.

“No,” hottie says simply after a minute.

And Yunho smiles despite himself. He’s never felt this irked and this horny all at once. He’s glad he’s sitting down shielded behind the bar, because he’s pretty sure he’s sporting a semi from just talking to this guy. And staring at his arms.

“Mingi.”

“Huh?” Smooth, Yunho, real smooth.

“I’m Mingi,” hottie repeats.

Mingi. His tongue rolls over the name inside his mouth.

“Yunho,” he responds after a moment.

“It’s a pleasure to annoy the sh*t out of you, Yunho,” he says with the world’s most obnoxious sh*t-eating grin. Yunho feels his trousers getting just a bit tighter. Peachy.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

He laughs and Yunho is done for.

The bar slowly gets busier and Mingi’s attention is diverted. Yunho minds less than he should. He finds he quite enjoys watching the other man work. How his big hands mash up mint leaves and ice, his nimble fingers glide along the impressive array of liquor bottles, the way his muscles bulge as he vigorously swings a shaker with one hand. Damn, why is the fact he can hold it in one hand easily so attractive?

Rather than following through on his plan to get blackout drunk and collapse face first into the slightly musty budget hotel bed his sh*tty company booked for him on this business trip, Yunho nurses the drink Mingi mixed for him for the next hour.

For his part, Mingi keeps gravitating towards Yunho and shoots him apologetic looks whenever his attention is pulled in a different direction. Eventually though, Yunho’s stomach loudly protests the fact that all he’s had since the crappy continental breakfast buffet this morning is a liquid lunch.

He stands up and doesn’t miss the quick once over her gets from Mingi. The other man’s lips part and his eyes widen a smidgen. Yunho feels a flash of gratification,it’s been a hot minute since he’s felt attractive. He suspects Mingi hadn’t quite gauged how tall he is. He also knows the discount charcoal suit he’s wearing may be cheap, but it shows off the broadness of his shoulders.

Mingi wipes his hands on a towel after finishing mixing a drink and strides to his end of the bar.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, early train tomorrow. And I need to grab some food before going back to my hotel.”

“Oh.”

Mingi flushes the prettiest pink and Yunho has to blink away the deranged urge to go to an art shop, find that exact shade and use it to paint the hallway in his little flat in Seoul.

“Well, it was nice to meet you. And uh, I hope your night ends less sh*tty than it started.” He’s gnawing on that damn bottom lip again.

And maybe Yunho has sobered up less than he thinks, because he feels reckless, like he’s somehow sidestepped his regular life for a day to just to do whatever the f*ck he wants. He’s in a strange city on the company’s dime and here’s this entire snack of a man who’s made him feel better than he has in months by just like breathing.

f*ck it, things can hardly get worse. Why not snatch some relief where he can?

“It could get better still,” he ventures.

Yunho’s a little out of practice after years stuck in an unhealthy rut with someone who didn’t appreciate the fine art of flirting. Among other things. But he’s pretty sure the interest goes both ways. Still, this could all have been in his head.

But then, Mingi catches on and does that devastating thing with the dimple.

“It could, if you come back here for a night cap after dinner.”

Someone is impatiently clicking their fingers to get Mingi’s attention. He starts walking backwards along the bar, eyes on Yunho.

“I get off in two hours,” he says, before turning and caressing bottles like he’s taking their virginity on prom night. Well f*ck, how can he say no to that?

Yunho knows he’s smiling like a lunatic walking down the street and he has zero f*cks to give. He shovels some fried chicken down and foregoes the beer. He does not want whiskey dick ruining his plans to f*ck Mingi stupid.

The teenager at the convenience store checkout tries very hard not to look at him when he buys supplies. He adds cherry flavoured lube with edible glitter to his basket just to f*ck with them. Ah, the small joys in life.

He goes back to his little hotel room and tidies away some of the clothes he’d haphazardly thrown around earlier. He takes a quick shower and styles his dark hair to swoop over his forehead. Thankfully, he’d packed more casual black trousers and a light knit jumper to travel. He neatly folds his middle class salaryman suit and flips it the bird.

Yunho is still a little early getting back to the bar, but Mingi’s face lights up as soon as he gets in. It’s less packed than when he left and he slips into an empty seat near the bar.

His hands are a bit jittery with anticipation now that the buzz of liquid courage has faded a bit. He fidgets with his sleeves, a toothpick, another napkin. Even when he was single, he’d never been one much for picking people up in bars. He’d always been the boyfriend type, nice and polite, sweet and homely. Safe. Unexciting.

He stops the thought as soon as it forms. The voice in his head sounds an awful lot like his ex and he’d given that waste of space enough of his time and mental bandwidth. Yunho doesn’t just want to be the nice guy who never colours outside the lines. All that had gotten him is a job he hates, a broken heart and an apartment that was a bit too expensive for just himself.

Again, Mingi comes to the rescue. He puts another drink in front of Yunho, this one smelling of citrus and mint, with a rim of pink salt.

“On the house,” he says with a wink.

Yunho rolls his eyes, but undermines his own prickliness with a broad smile, darting out his tongue to lick up some of the salt. Mingi swallows and clears his throat before turning on his heels and nearly colliding with a colleague.

What a dork. Yunho feels a blush creeping up his ears. He’d forgotten the thrill of attraction, the back and forth, the pull and pull and pull of wanting someone so badly he’d give up a limb.

The drink helps settle some of his nerves and before long, Mingi is rounding the bar and sauntering up to him. The short bartender from earlier—Wooyoung?—casts them a knowing smirk and Mingi sort of stumbles over his own feet. It’s so adorable Yunho has to clasp his hands together to suppress the real urge to bite his knuckles.

“Shall we?”

God, up close the magnetic pull of Mingi is almost unbearable. He’s just a tad shorter, his frame less broad, waist definitely slu*ttier, but he’s also bulkier in the best possible way. Yunho’s hands itch to knead his flesh and that’s a thought he never thought he’d have.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Mingi leads them outside and takes a moment to breathe the crisp evening air. The play of shadows and dim street light, backlit by the bar’s neon sign make Mingi’s cheekbones look even more chiselled and it steals Yunho’s breath. On impulse he pulls the other man further into the shadows of the alleyway next to the bar.

“Wha–?”

He doesn’t get further than that because Yunho pushes him up against the wall and presses against him until there is absolutely no space for Jesus and their lips are a whisker apart.

Mingi’s breaths quicken and Yunho’s eyes flash to that deliciously plush mouth. He wonders if it tastes as sweet as it looks. He licks his own lips and sees the other man tracking the movement.

“Can I kiss you?”

It comes out way more breathless and way less cool than Yunho intends, but here we are.

Mingi makes an unidentifiable noise and then nods his head, brushing their noses together. That’ll do for Yunho and he crashes their lips together.

His last drink courses through his veins, lighting every organ on fire along the way. Maybe it also makes him a little sloppier than usual, but Mingi doesn’t seem to mind in the least.

He lets out a helpless little whimper and Yunho pushes his advantage, tongue surging forward to explore that damn mouth. His hands roam Mingi’s arms, chest down to his waist and Yunho groans when he wraps his long fingers around it. f*cking hell, he’s never been this turned on in his life.

Sounds like Mingi is in a similar predicament, if his pitchy breaths are anything to go by. One of his hands slides through Yunho’s dark tresses, while the other grips the side of his neck. It’s such a silly little thing, but it’s so incredibly sexy. Like he’s being claimed in some way. Yunho forcefully shoves that thought away. This is a one-time f*ck in a place he’s never been before and may not come back to. But his treacherous body shivers regardless.

Yunho breaks the kiss, bracing one hand on the wall behind Mingi. Their damp foreheads rest together as they pant, breaths fogging in the cold evening air.

“Do you want to–” Mingi starts.

“Yes.”

Mingi chuckles breathlessly and steps to the side, creating a little bit of distance. Yunho squeezes the hand braced on the wall into a fist to fight the urge to yank him back. Time and place, Yunho-ya. Getting slapped with a public indecency charge on a work trip is not a good look.

He pushes off to hurry after the other man. His hotel room is close to the bar, but somehow it still feels much too far away. They walk closely together, elbows bumping occasionally. The air is thick with anticipation.

By the time they pass the night guard—paying them barely any mind as he plays an obnoxiously loud game on his phone—Yunho’s eyes are dark and dangerous. As soon as the elevator doors close, he pushes the shorter man up against the wall and nips at his jaw. The guard wont be checking the camera, and if he does well then he gets a show. Mingi puts his hands on Yunho’s chest, but rather than push, they trace his pecs. Yunho never knew that could be an erogenous zone. He prays he won’t traumatise anyone in the hallway with the major boner straining in his pants.

At last, at last,the lift deposits them on the right floor. Yunho uses his long legs to barrel down the hall and fumbles with his key card, trying to jam the thing into the door. Mingi laughs and takes it from Yunho’s impatient fingers. His eyes are crinkled into crescents as he gently slides the card in and out of the lock.

“Slow is smooth, smooth is fast,” he says, slanting his eyes coquettishly.

“I’ll show you smooth and fast,” Yunho growls as he crowds Mingi through the door and straight to the bed.

The other man lets himself be pushed back onto the mattress, laughing the whole way. He kicks off his shoes and leans up on his elbows to eye Yunho. He makes a come hither gesture with one hand and Yunho is on him in the blink of an eye, jacket and shoes hastily discarded along the way.

He presses Mingi down into the mediocre mattress with a searing kiss. Rustling fabric and soft grunts fill the room as Yunho takes off Mingi’s jacket and shirt, before whipping his own jumper off.

Sweet Jesus. Yunho blinks a few times when he’s met with flawless honey skin over taut muscles. He’s surprised he didn’t have to beat off a legion of admirers to take him to bed tonight.

“ Mingi, ” he breathes in awe and hopes that’s enough to convey that he would quite literally slay dragons for a chance to touch this man. He’s too tipsy to be more eloquent right this second.

He thankfully seems to get it. He nibbles his bottom lip, two dots of pink blooming high on his cheeks. His hands reach up to swipe along Yunho’s broad shoulders and those lips part. He clearly likes what he sees and Yunho thinks all the bullsh*t he’s been through recently, an abrupt untangling of two lives that had once believed they would be entwined forever, is worth it if it means he gets to have this tonight.

He pushes between Mingi’s thighs and leans over his torso to kiss along his jaw, down his collarbone and over his chest to his sternum. The other man is gasping by the time he gets there, wiggling his hips in search of any kind of friction.

Yunho takes pity and presses his large palm against the bulge in Mingi’s jeans to relieve some of the pressure. The other man’s hips buck up against him as he lets out a raspy moan. In another life, Yunho would tease him until he is gasping and desperate, but he doesn’t have the willpower tonight. His own co*ck is straining uncomfortably against his trousers.

He briefly lifts away from Mingi to undo his belt and start to pull down his jeans. He makes eye contact to make sure this is okay. Mingi nods so vigorously it shakes the sh*tty bedframe. Yunho follows suit and quickly discards their underwear too.

And f*ck if Mingi doesn’t have a gorgeous co*ck too, go figure. It’s big and thick and red and looks so very ready to be touched. An entire ikea catalogue of p*rnographic possibilities flash through Yunho’s brain and he has to actually squeeze the base of his own hard dick to try and calm down a bit.

He’s not so drunk he can’t make sure their both have a good time, but he is also just the wrong side of tipsy to get too adventurous. His fingers skitter along Mingi’s abdomen until they land on the velvety penis curving up so invitingly. Mingi’s eyes are glued to the fingers wrapped around his shaft, his pupils are blown wide and shiny lips parted. Yunho flicks a thumb over his glistening co*ckhead, and he’s rewarded with a hissed inhale. He tightens his grip and strokes with more purpose, gathering up beads of precum to ease the slide.

Yunho puts his other hand on Mingi’s thigh, feeling the slight tremors rippling through the muscle, and he lets out a groan that he may have found embarrassing had there been any blood left in his brain to help him think.

“Do you have stuff?”

Seems like Mingi’s brain is also operating at only 10% capacity. But that actually seems to make communication easier at this stage.

“Depends on what you want, beautiful.”

Mingi’s breathing gets increasingly ragged as Yunho keeps up his strokes and moves to the inside of the other man’s thigh with his free hand. For a second, Mingi looks up at him with a searching expression. Yunho has to remind himself they only met a few hours ago, it feels so natural to be here. Whatever he sees in his face helps make up his mind.

“I would very much like for you to f*ck me until I can’t see,” he says, voice unfairly gravelly.

Yunho f*cking chokes on air, a wild blush flooding up his chest to his cheeks and ears. Well damn, son. All he can do is nod dumbly.

“Yes, please, I have–there’s–I, uh, bought stuff,” he stammers. Sex god Jeong Yunho, ladies and gentlemen.

Mingi leans back on his hands and smiles, his tongue sneaking out to tease along that crooked upper tooth. Yunho wants to eat him whole and keep him tucked underneath his diaphragm. That’s a disturbing thought to be examined another day.

Instead, his hand reluctantly let go of the delicious expanse of tan skin splayed out before him to lunge for the 7-eleven bag. He doesn’t take his eyes off Mingi as he digs around for a condom and little bottle of lube, so he doesn’t miss the way the other man’s eyes widen in shock when Yunho triumphantly pulls up his hand like some adult treasure hunt.

With a stab of hot embarrassment, he remembers the ridiculous shimmery lube he bought for a laugh. His ears are glowing, he’s sure. But what the hell, no backing out now.

“You should have seen the kid’s face at the store,” Yunho says wryly. And Mingi throws his head back in deep husky laughter. It’s so hot Yunho has to actually close his eyes for a second.

“I happen to look great in glitter,” he says.

“Like the pretty princess you are,” Yunho adds and the other man bats his eyelashes.

The little interlude has done nothing to diminish Yunho’s raging hard-on. If anything, Mingi’s cute comebacks only add to his magnetic attraction to the other man.

And he does want to see Mingi painted in sweat and glittery lube, panting and writhing underneath him. He pops the cap and coats his fingers. Mingi leans back on his forearms and spreads his legs a bit wider, heels digging into the mattress. Yunho settles back between his legs and playfully bites at his kneecap.

Mingi grumbles in protest, but it quickly turns into a low moan as Yunho teases along his rim, circling the tight muscle. This is not at all how he’d expected this night to go, but f*ck if he won’t make the most of this opportunity.

He leans in to capture Mingi’s lips just as he pushes one finger inside, eating up the other man’s hoarse Oh. Sweat is starting to bead on his brow as Yunho’s buzzed brain tries to keep up with the kiss, while making sure to go slow as his finger slides deeper into Mingi.

“ Oh f*ck , Yunho,” he breaks away after a moment and slumps back on his elbows, biting his bottom lip. The angle gives Mingi leverage to grind down on his hand. Yunho makes a strangled noise at the view before him. He’s got to speed this up if he has any hope of actually getting to rail Mingi rather than creaming right here all over the cheap sheets.

He pushes a second digit into Mingi, revelling in the velvety heat of it all. The other man’s head lolls back on a reedy little ooooooh. Yunho breathes through it, thinking about spreadsheets and his coworker’s gross toupee. He starts to gently scissor them before adding a third. Yunho is tall and he’s pretty gifted in the dick department, and he wants to make this good for Mingi. Being a little drunk is probably the only reason his penis hasn’t gone rogue yet. f*ck, how desperately was he in need of a lay?

“Jesus f*ck, your fingers,” Mingi’s frowning in concentration, glistening with a thin veil of sweat. “I knew– ah!–as soon as I saw them, but f*ckf*ckf*ck…” Yunho grins as he crooks his fingers and hits the jackpot. Mingi is heaving deep breaths through his nose

“Okay Yunho, this is–I’m going to come if you keep– unngh– ”

His smile grows predatory and Mingi shoots him a withering glare. Yunho hesitates for a moment, his mouth literally watering at the idea of making Mingi come and f*cking his pliant and loose body until he cries, but he’s too wound up and too tipsy for that. So, he relents and gently eases his hand out. Mingi’s rim is pink and puckered and covered in red glitter.

“Pretty,” Yunho breathes. He really wants to put his mouth on that. Mingi blushes and squirms.

Apparently, he doesn’t move fast enough because the bartender impatiently snatches the condom he’d hastily thrown on the bed earlier. He rips the packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down Yunho’s painfully hard co*ck. Why is everything this man does so attractive?

Mingi sits up on his knees and turns around, pushing his hips back into Yunho’s crotch. The view of Mingi’s broad back, muscular shoulders and that impossibly tiny waist is the most erotic thing Yunho has ever seen. While he would very much like to see Mingi’s face as he f*cks him, this position blessedly requires a little bit less coordination.

Yunho’s hands are shaky as they squirt more shimmery red lube directly on his dick. He slicks himself up. He’s fast developing a Pavlovian response to the scent of synthetic cherry. And maybe glitter.

Mingi rocks back impatiently and Yunho grabs his hip as he lines himself up. Everything sort of blanks out for a few moments as he slides forward slow but steady. All he manages are half-formed thoughts like oh my f*cking god warm and snug, so so so snug yes.He comes back to himself to the sound of Mingi’s filthy moans and Ah yeah, just like that, fuuuuuuckkkkk.

Yunho wants to bottle it. He wants to make it his ringtone and wake up to this for the rest of his life. He thrusts shallowly and carefully to try and ease the stretch. A sound rumbles low in Mingi’s chest as he looks back over his shoulder.

“Don’t play coy with me now, for f*ck’s sake, I can take it.”

Yunho needs a second to catch his drift but then raises an eyebrow and kicks his hips more forcefully. Mingi’s mouth drops open and his eyes go half-mast. He sags through his elbows at the next sharp snap of Yunho’s hips with a grunt and fists the sheets.

“Is that what you want, my pretty princess?”

Mingi’s face is now buried in the sheets and all he can do is nod, vigorously. Yunho splays his hands on Mingi’s delicious ass cheeks and keeps them parted so he can watch his dick slam into that gloriously red glittery hole. All that cake, it’s begging to be eaten.

A little sliver of drool spills over Yunho’s lip and he hastily wipes it away. Mingi isn’t doing much better, he’s biting the sheets in an effort to keep quiet.

“Nuh uh,” Yunho hooks an arm underneath the bartender’s chest and buries the other one in his hair. He yanks him upright, prompting an incoherent little gargling noise from Mingi.

Yunho sits back on his heels and pulls Mingi’s ass flush to his hips. It drives his co*ck deeper and Yunho goes a little cross-eyed for a second. He moves his hand up to cup Mingi’s neck, like a weight without putting any pressure, and whispers hotly in his ear.

“Let me hear you. Sing for me.”

And Mingi does. The new angle has Yunho’s co*ck hitting just rightand the other man braces his hands on Yunho’s thighs, hitched little sighs falling from his lips. He bounces up and down and the drag of his tight walls around Yunho’s co*ck is the best kind of torture.

“Oh God, Mingi, I’m not gonna last like this,” Yunho grits out amid ragged breaths.

He has the presence of mind to take Mingi’s weeping dick in hand. He tries to hold it back, but the booze in his system has put his control just out of reach. Starts explode behind Yunho’s eyes and he lets out a guttural groan, pressed right in between Mingi’s shoulder blades. His hips stutter as he fills the condom, wanting this moment to both last forever and end because it’s too overwhelming.

When his strokes lose their rhythm, Mingi wraps his own long fingers around Yunho’s. Yunho forces himself to sit up and look over Mingi’s shoulder at both their hands jerking him off faster and faster. The other man’s head drops against Yunho’s chest so he can feel his panting breaths. He can’t look away. Mingi is so f*cking beautiful, all f*cked out and desperate, that Yunho’s dick refuses to go down fully.

Mingi’s back arches on a sharp gasp and then he’s spilling hot come over both their hands. The clench wrenches another groan from Yunho. He’s not entirely sure he hasn’t just straight up stumbled into the street drunkenly to be run over, died and gone to heaven. If so, he wouldn’t complain.

But he doubts heaven would include the feeling of drying sweat, cum and novelty lube on his skin.

His limbs feel like they’ve been weighed down by cement blocks. Yunho fights to keep his eyes open as Mingi eases off him. He sort of collapses on his side and hears something that sounds suspiciously like a giggle.

He wants to protest, it’s undignified. But the combination of seven drinks in three hours, vigorous and mind-altering sex and a long day at work is making everything a little too fuzzy and blurred to really make sense of properly. Yunho is vaguely aware of the icky slide of a full condom and the soft wipe of a damp towel.

Yunho tries to fight it, he really does, but the fatigue is fast winning the battle. The last thing he registers is a peck to his damp temple before he falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.

His alarm wakes him up a few hours later for the ridiculously early train his cheap ass company booked him. His head is f*cking pounding .

There’s no trace of Mingi. Well. There’s the used condom in the hotel room bin, the sheets are covered in glittery lube and there’s a faint whiff of cherry in the air. Yunho leaves a massive tip for the poor housekeeping staff assigned to clean his den of sin.

Yunho has precious little time to reflect on anything. He showers, brushes his teeth, dresses and jams his belongings back into his little travel case in under 20 minutes before he’s hurrying to the train station.

He makes it with a minute to spare, slightly green around the edges and sweating profusely. He slinks off to the loos to chuck up and an older lady gives him the stink-eye as he shuffles back to his seat.

It’s the sh*ttiest train ride of his life and yet. And yet, his lips can’t but curl into a ridiculous smile. If he plays his cards right, if he lands the account he was in Gwangju for, that would mean more frequent trips.

For once in his adult life, Yunho exerts himself at work.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

It takes Yunho three weeks to wrangle another trip down to Gwangju.

Three weeks of sickening brown-nosing and paperwork and conference calls that bore him to bloody tears. He smiles and bows and makes a f*cking power point presentation with colour coding and sound effects. f*ck, all it took was one excellent dicking down to turn Yunho into an overachieving girlboss.

Three weeks of waking up sweaty and tangled in his sheets painfully hard every night. It always ends with him taking a cool shower and f*cking his own fist under the spray, thinking about Mingi’s beautiful hands and thick thighs. It never takes him long.

Once, embarrassingly, his control had slipped at work when one of the secretaries had applied a cloyingly synthetic cherry-flavoured lip balm. The scent had trigged such a visceral flashback it had sent Yunho flying into the office bathrooms. It had taken only a few strokes for him to come leaning against the stall wall, one hand jerking his poor abused dick furiously, the other cupped over the tip to prevent a mess, teeth biting down on his tie to muffle moans that had sounded suspiciously like a hot bartender’s name. God, who even is he?

Three weeks of trying very hard not to think about just how absolutely unhinged his new obsession is. If he’s so pressed, he could just take the train to Gwangju on the weekend, he knows this. But that would make it deliberate, real, with intent, and not just a convenient hookup when he’s already there. And apparently Yunho is a massive chickensh*t, but he thankfully he is a pro at not examining uncomfortable feelings too closely, so.

Instead, he girlbosses some more and swings another meeting with executives at Wonderland, the hot tech startup he’d been sent to court in Gwangju.

Yunho has been so successful in not thinking too deeply about what he’s doing that it doesn’t hit him until he’s boarding the train that Mingi may not be quite so keen to see him again, let alone pick up where they left off. Suddenly he’s sweating bullets, his white dress shirt uncomfortably damp. The waistcoat and tie combo he’d donned on a whim (for Mingi, who is he kidding–not himself that’s for sure) has turned into a tactical error as fear sweat runs down his back.

The further away from Seoul he goes, the calmer he gets, oddly. Like the vice permanently coiled around his lungs eases up gradually. He’s still blessedly anonymous in Gwangju. No one expects him to act like the perfect son-in-law, the hapless and directionless puppy, the devoted and gullible lover. Wonderland see him as a competent representative and Mingi, well, Mingi has only ever met adventurous and bold Yunho.

What’s the worst that could happen? If he’s turned down, no one needs to know or care. And if he’s not… If he’s not then that’s worth any potential humiliation.

While Yunho resolves not to drink before getting to the bar, that’s not how business is done in Korea. At least not with Wonderland. They welcome him back with polite bows and chocolate biscuits, and mere hours later they bust out the soju and drag him to karaoke. Yunho is an excellent singer, to young CEO Kang Yeosang’s utter delight. His own silky deep baritone harmonises beautifully with Yunho’s higher voice. He loses track of time, but manages to avoid getting plastered by surreptitiously pouring out a few shots into a poor plant.

At last he’s able to make his excuses and promises to meet a few more executives over lunch tomorrow. He sees it’s nearly 9pm and curses. He desperately wants a shower, but doesn’t want to risk missing Mingi. Hell, he may not even be working tonight. The thought hits Yunho like a bucket of cold sick.

Praying to whatever gods may be listening, he rushes to the bar, pushing open the door with a sweaty palm. It’s f*cking heaving and sweltering and none of that matters because all of the air is violently sucked from Yunho’s lungs when his eyes immediately zero in on a tall form whipping up drinks at the bar.

A patron says something and he throws his head back to bark out a laugh, and time f*cking stops for Yunho. He’s wearing glasses. Motherf*ck. Something clenches painfully low in his stomach and he has the mortifying realisation that his black slacks are on the tighter side to better show off his long legs, but also unfortunately his very interested dick. He takes a great big gulp of air and tells his bits to cool their f*cking jets, they are in public.

He’s jolted out of his momentary stupor by someone bumping into his back as they bustle in from the cold evening air. The commotion alerts Mingi and Yunho gets to see in gloriously tortuous high definition how his eyes go comically round as they land on him.

Yunho .

It’s said too softly for him to hear, but he clearly sees those sinful lips curve around the letters of his name. They stare at each other for a few seconds before the spell is broken as the glass Mingi was holding slips from his slack fingers to smash on the floor.

People cheer at the sound and Wooyoung swoops in with a dustpan to clean up the jagged mess. Yunho can’t help himself, he smirks in amusem*nt and slips through the crowd to the front of the bar. Mingi is still adorably flustered when they come face to face and it melts away the last of Yunho’s apprehension.

“Hi, princess,” he says, voice low and full of promise.

Mingi gapes at him, lips slightly parted and glasses sliding halfway down his nose, and it’s so cute Yunho has to suppress the irrational urge to lean over the bar and bite his f*cking cheek.

The other man recovers from his shock and his face splits into a dazzling grin.

“Mr. Business Man,” he says, pushing his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “Back for more?”

That little minx . Yunho narrows his eyes playfully, before slowly and deliberately trailing them up and down Mingi’s body.

“What can I say, I like the view.”

He’s rewarded with a lovely hiccup of laughter and it’s so infectious he chuckles himself.

“Yes, I hear our hotels are lovely, and the selection at our convenience stores is unrivalled.”

Yunho hums. “I’m more of a people person, actually.”

“Is that so?” If Mingi’s eyebrows go any higher, they’d be in space.

“I’ve been told I’m a ray of sunshine on more than one occasion. Sweet as pie, even.”

“That remains to be seen, hot stuff.”

Mingi and Yunho had subconsciously been drifting closer and suddenly their faces are less than a foot apart. And yet, Wooyoung manages to stick his head in the space between them, with a sh*t-eating grin.

“If you two are quite finished eye-f*cking each other, I think Mingi is due for a break, no?”

The bartender in question pushes his glasses up his nose and tilts his head to the side in question. Yunho bites his lip and smiles around it. He follows Mingi to the back of the bar and up a set of rickety stairs to a small office.

As soon as they’re inside, he pushes the other man back against the door and slots their lips together. Mingi wastes no time devouring his lips in turn, licking into his mouth when Yunho opens up for him. Soon, the small room is filled with the sound of their panting breaths, impatient moans and the wet slide of their kisses. It’s so hot Yunho has to brace himself against the door behind Mingi to steady his wobbling legs.

Minutes later, he buckles through his knees and takes Mingi’s glorious co*ck in his mouth. He hollows his cheeks on the upstroke, swirling his tongue around the tip and pressing against the sensitive underside, before sinking down as far as he can go again.

“Holy f*cking sh*t,” Mingi chokes out, shoving his hands through Yunho’s hair. “Oh my god, Yunho. Yes, yes, just like that.”

Yunho looks up at him through his lashes. Mingi’s lips are flushed a pretty red, slick with spit and slack with pleasure. His glasses are sliding down again and a light sheen of sweat paints his temples. Yunho wraps one hand around the base of his dick and uses the other to skim over his thigh and hip to roughly grab a handful of ass. The fact that not all of it fits in his large palm sends a bolt of electricity up Yunho’s own spine.

Mingi makes a strangled noise and Yunho picks up the pace, head bobbing up and down and tongue sliding along the underside of his thick shaft. It’s so slick and so full and Yunho, who’s never managed to clear his head enough for mindfulness in his entire life, thinks he could meditate like this. Go into a trance with the weight of Mingi’s co*ck on his tongue, the rhythm of his groans in his ears and the bitter twang of his come at the back of his throat.

“It’s so good, so f*cking good Yunho, Jesus Christ,” his voice sounds raw and wrecked.

Mingi squeezes his eyes shut and Yunho can tell he’s close by the way his stomach pulls taut, his breathing turns ragged and his hips shake.

“I’m gonna come, Yunho, I– f*ck!” He forces his eyes open and grunts as he seizes up and shudders. Yunho swallows it all like the greedy motherf*cker he is, licking him through it until his eyes roll back and he whines.

Yunho carefully tucks him back into his trousers while Mingi is slumped against the door, fighting for his breath. His own dick is bulging painfully and he presses a firm palm against it to relieve some pressure.

Mingi slowly comes back to himself and Yunho is sure he can’t quite keep the smug look off his face. He knows he’s good at giving head, it was the one thing still standing in his sorry sex life by the end. The only advances his ex would still welcome. He wills those thoughts away and focuses on Mingi’s glassy stare and rosy cheeks instead.

“What the f*ck,” Mingi wheezes a moment later, scrubbing a hand over his eyes underneath his glasses. “I’m sure that counts as attempted murder in at least 50 countries.”

Yunho ducks his head at the compliment and stands to get the blood flowing in his legs again. Mingi’s eyes rake over him, stutter a few times on his very obvious, very throbbing erection.

“Give me a minute and I’ll–” he waves an elegant hand in Yunho’s general direction. “Return the favour.”

“Ah, could I cash in that favour after your shift?” Yunho co*cks his head to the side with a sly smile. “I’d love to show you the inside of one of Gwangju’s famed budget hotels.”

Mingi pulls him in by his waistcoat for a searing kiss. “You sure know how to make a boy feel special,” he husks against his lips.

“Very much planning on it.”

Mingi’s eyes blaze. “Deal.”

That’s how, two hours later, Mingi finds himself babbling nonsense and pressed cheek to chest up against the generic white tiles of the hotel shower, spine arched back. Yunho kneels between his legs, an ass cheek cupped in each hand, spread open wide as he licks a wet trail around the other man’s pink rim. His thighs shake with every teasing lick, hole clenching reflexively.

“Yunho, please, nghn, oh my f*cking god, please,” Mingi’s hands slip on the wet tiles as he scrambles for purchase to push his ass further into Yunho’s face. He chants his name, low and deep, between helpless little whimpers.

Yunho is in f*cking heaven. His ex never liked being eaten out much, said it was too tickly and made him too self-conscious. His loss, if Mingi’s incoherent begging is anything to go by. He pushes his tongue into Mingi as far as he can, loosening him up methodically. He’ll confess, he indulges a little, luxuriates in the slow torture, the wrecked little noises spilling from Mingi’s plump lips, the shivers running from his shoulders down to his toes.

He reaches around to fist his neglected co*ck, but Mingi slaps his hand away, hard.

“Don’t, if you touch me now it’s over,” he hisses.

Yunho takes that as his cue to speed things up a bit. He grabs the glittery lube, for old times sake, and works quickly to open him up further. Before long, he wraps an arm around his chest to steady Mingi and puts his other hand on his hip as he guides his dick home to the hilt.

He f*cks Mingi slow and deep at first, but is powerless to resist the other’s urgent pleas of harder, please Yunho, f*ck yes!

Mingi paints the tiles with a loud wail when Yunho reaches around to take him in hand. He rails him through the spasms of his release, before pulling out and making a mess of that ridiculous ass, grunting his name. They wash up a second time and fall onto the rough hotel sheets after, giggling and limbs loose with satisfaction.

Yunho can feel his eyelids drooping, but is determined to fight sleep for a little longer. He props himself up on his elbow and traces mindless patterns on Mingi’s shoulder. The other man closes his eyes with a pleased hum.

They should talk, really. No need for labels, but they should have some sort of conversation about what they’re doing. But Yunho can’t quite bring himself to burst their post-sex bubble of contentment. Mingi also seems reluctant and his first words take Yunho entirely by surprise.

“Why didn’t you text me you were coming back?”

It’s soft and a little tentative, like he’s afraid of the answer. Yunho blinks as his brain tries to catch up.

“Uhm, I don’t have your number?”

“Oh,” Mingi frowns tiredly. “I wrote it down for you. On the lube receipt.”

Well f*ck. It had been such a mad dash to make his train that morning, he must have just shoved it in a pocket without looking. In fact it may still be in his coat now.

Mingi flushes at his silence. “It ah, seemed funny at the time.”

He trails off as Yunho gets up from the bed to dig around in his coat pocket. He crows in victory when he finds the crumpled receipt. He rubs out some of the creases and adds the digits scrawled on the back to his phone.

The other man is so adorably frazzled, both pleased he hadn’t just been ghosted and cringing at the mishap. And Yunho is f*cking weak.

He walks back to the bed and cups Mingi’s cheek. “I’ll let you know next time.”

The smile he gets in return is shy and small, but still so radiantly Mingi. Something flutters dangerously in his chest. He tamps it down, down, down.

Mingi goes home in the middle of the night and Yunho collapses on the lumpy mattress. He returns to Seoul after the lunch meeting the next day, both sated and so very hungry all at once.

***

“Who are you and what have you done to my Yuyu?”

Yunho starts as a small arm loops into his elbow, pulling him along and away from the copier spitting out documents for him to pour over and sign. He makes a startled noise, but Hongjoong’s tiny little shoulders hold a deceptive amount of strength.

“Because it looks suspiciously like you are actually working, like busting a gut.”

Yunho raises his eyebrows, but is irrevocably dragged past a row of cubicles into a little kitchenette. There’s a coffee maker that’s seen better days, a fridge no one has seen the back of since 2007 and a vending machine that hasn’t been restocked in weeks. Ah, office life.

Sad Toupee Guy is making himself a tea in the corner and he flinches when he catches sight of Hongjoong and Yunho.

Hongjoong doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Beat it.”

The man spills some tea in his haste to get out of there. Yunho doesn’t blame him, Hongjoong is f*cking scary on a good day, but he sort of feels for the guy.

“Was that really necessary?”

Hongjoong snorts derisively. “I’m afraid my work wife has been swapped out for a changeling, so yes.”

Yunho slants his eyes over at his co-worker. “You’ve been reading those smutty fairy books again, have you?”

Eyes narrowed to slits, Hongjoong pushes his glasses back up his unreasonably cute nose. How a guy with such an elfin face who could fit in his back pocket manages to pack so much acerbic punch is beyond Yunho.

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

He yanks Yunho to eye level by his bargain bin tie.

“What gives?”

His eyes search Yunho’s and he can see genuine concern underneath the general air of being done with this sh*t. “Don’t tell me you suddenly care about your career here?”

Yunho shudders. He’d been working at the company for over three years, a mindless pencil pusher. Clicking through screens and screens of spreadsheets, sales data, surveys and writing a never-ending stream of polite emails to people he daydreams about axe-murdering on a daily basis. It is boring and tedious and he’d long since learned that the more he cares, the less he achieves. The only thing that really gets him through most days is the pocket rocket currently putting him through the Spanish Inquisition.

“f*ck no, ew,” he says with feeling.

Hongjoong sigh in relief. “Thank f*ck, I thought I was going to have to have you sectioned for a minute there.”

He releases Yunho’s tie, but still eyes him suspiciously. And Yunho knows there’s no escape, he has only been putting off the inevitable. He was always going to tell his work husband, he’d just wanted to keep Mingi to himself for a bit, to avoid tainting the perfect refuge from the daily grind in his head with pesky things like questions and facts. Two things Hongjoong loves to ruin Yunho’s life with.

“Alright so, there is something to tell–” he doesn’t get further than that because Hongjoong gasps dramatically and squeezes his arm hard enough to hurt.

“Jeong Yunho, you f*cking Judas, if you leave me here for another job I swear on my mother I will go live in your cupboards and haunt you for the rest of your sorry life,” he hisses.

Yunho blinks with his mouth open. The trauma bond of working together for three years in a hellhole as the only two sane people who seem to understand the system is rigged is very strong, but that’s a little extreme.

Still, he gets it.

“No, no, my dear husband, it’s nothing like that,” he says quickly and pats Hongjoong’s head. The fact that the other man lets him without his usual flailing and feigned protests tells Yunho just how distressing that thought must have been for him.

Before Yunho can reply, another colleague rounds the corner into the kitchenette. Before Hongjoong can chase her off with a murderous glare, Yunho gives her a winning smile and bows politely. He mouths later at his hyung and books it to his own cubicle.

He sinks into his chair with a groan. Yunho’s been back in Seoul for five days and change (eleven hours and fifty minutes, but who’s counting?) and he’s about ready to leap off a building.

Yunho feels like there’s been a fundamental shift inside of him, but the world hasn’t caught up. Everyone still treats him the same, but in shedding his old skin temporarily, he finds it doesn’t really fit anymore.

It’s not like he wanted to be a jaded corporate pencil pusher. Yunho had once had big dreams of becoming a dancer or a pro-gamer, but the pesky realities of making rent and putting food on the table had quickly snuffed those out. His ex had wanted a nice flat in a nice part of town, regular dinner dates and trips to Jeju. Let’s just say he hadn’t been a fan of Yunho’s overnight Valorant marathons, potato chip and Mountain Dew dinners and the legion of online friends texting updates throughout the day.

Yunho doesn’t blame him for everything , he had made his own choices in the end. But he had felt trapped, like he couldn’t take a chance on a much less stable, but much more exciting job. Ironic then, that his ex left him because he, quote, had become too predictable and boring.

Before the familiar co*cktail of shame and guilt at not being good enough and then anger at feeling that way can really foment into something nasty and sour, his brain turns to a new-found and disturbingly effective remedy: Mingi.

Not just the sex, though yes also, frequently. But mostly, he thinks about his dimply smile, the elegant hands, the dorky stumbles, just how unapologetically himself Mingi seemed. And most of all, how he made Yunho feel desired and attractive. Chosen even, cheesy as it sounds. This Greek god of a man who must have an endless conveyor belt of hot men at his disposal at the swanky bar. He’d picked Yunho. And while clearly no blushing virgin, Mingi’s flirting was just a bit too unstudied for someone who makes a habit of going home with people he’s just met.

It’s a dangerous route for his thoughts to take. It always brings back an echo of the Yunho he is in Gwangju. Confident, taking no sh*t, a little reckless, going after what he wants. The very antithesis of polite and unassuming Seoul Yunho, crushed under the corporate heel of capitalism everyday and thanking his overlords for the privilege of being squished. He does not want to go back to that.

After work, he takes Hongjoong to their favourite noodle place for dinner and spills his guts.

For all that he had been putting off sharing the spicy bits of his trips to Gwangju, once he starts talking about Mingi he finds it hard to stop. Hongjoong, for once, keeps his thoughts to himself and slurps his noodles while Yunho word vomits about a cute bartender and sexy, sexy arms. And his grand master plan of pushing for this account to indulge his sudden interest in going to Gwangju.

There’s a beat of silence when Yunho comes up for air, face warm and flushed and his noodles stone cold. Hongjoong looks at him with an unreadable expression and it makes Yunho squirm.

“So, you’re saying your night of passion with a guy who served you drinks in bumf*ck nowhere means you now want to be employee of the month so you can keep going back to have your wicked, wicked way with him again?”

Well, it sounds unhinged when put like that. f*ck. Facts and questions here to suck the joy out of everything.

“Yes.”

Hongjoong lets out a long-suffering sigh and drops his chopstick to press his fingers to his eyes underneath his glasses.

“Listen, I am all for you living your best life and enjoying your hoe phase after He Who Shall Not Be Named. But babes, there are easier ways to do this.”

Yunho flushes and his mouth twists. “This isn’t a hoe phase,” he says defensively.

Hongjoong blinks at him. “If that’s meant to be reassuring, Yunho, it’s really not.”

“I thought you wanted me to put myself out there and catch some dick, hyung.”

Usually, Yunho would swallow down his annoyance and try to diffuse the situation. But he’s finding it increasingly difficult to let things that bother him slide.

“I meant maybe change your hair colour or wear mascara and find a mediocre lay in Seoul, like a normal person.”

“Being too much of a f*cking normie is what got me here in the first place, so excuse me if I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to keep that up,” Yunho snaps.

His vehemence makes Hongjoong rear back a bit. Okay, maybe that was a tad forceful, but it sort of stings to have his best friend talk to him like he’s an absolute idiot who can’t be trusted with himself.

Yunho holds his gaze, cheeks red but eyes stubborn. Hongjoong lets out a frustrated sound and underpins his next words with short, staccato hand gestures.

“Okay, fair, I hear you. But here’s my perspective. It’s been only a few months since the Mayor of c*nt Town walked out on you after years of you accommodating his whims and staying in a job you hate to pay for his Instagram lifestyle or whatever. He left you with an expensive apartment you don’t want and self-esteem issues you don’t need.”

Yunho winces, he’s not wrong. Hongjoong carries on the tirade mercilessly.

“He wanted you to be something you’re not. And listen up, because I am only going to say this once. You are f*cking amazing, just as you are, Yunho. And we are all lucky to be in your orbit.”

A horrible lump is forming in Yunho’s throat. “Hongjoong…” he whispers, grabbing his hand. He gets a death glare in return, but his hyung doesn’t pull away.

“Shut your f*ck, I’m not done.” a small sharp finger nearly jabs Yunho in the eyeball.

“I watched you shave off pieces of yourself for that f*cker for years, so forgive me if I’m suspicious when you come back from a trip waxing lyrical about some dude you barely know and then start acting out of character.”

Hongjoong heaves a deep breath and chews his lip. And it’s a horrible epiphany for Yunho. He’d been wrapped up so warmly in his own steaming pile of sh*t that he hadn’t properly considered what his relationship looked like from the outside. Hongjoong had never known Yunho before his ex.

“Thank you for looking out for me, hyung,” he says softly. “But honestly, I want to act out of character. I’ve not exactly been my best self for a while.”

Hongjoong bites his thumb thoughtfully and pins him with those reptilian eyes. After a long moment he nods.

“Alright, okay, l’m in.”

“You–what?”

“I’m in on the grand plan to get you laid, Romeo.” He flutters his tiny gay hands and gives Yunho a scathing once-over. “You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

God he loves Hongjoong.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Yunho knows he is well and truly f*cked the third time he goes to Gwangju.

The sex is so good it’s made him entirely stupid, it’s the only logical explanation. He blames his post-nut brain for his current predicament and can’t even find it in himself to really be all that upset. Even though it’s epically stupid.

Mingi is fast asleep curled up against his side, face relaxed and unfairly beautiful even as he drools gently on Yunho’s shoulder. It’s much too warm and he’s slowly losing all sensation in his arm, but Yunho would rather walk through a field of legos than wake the other man.

This is not the plan.

This is supposed to be a little fling, a dickstraction from his mundane job and the ruins of his recently imploded love life. Some sex-fuelled fun to brighten up dreary days. No strings attached whatsoever.

It’s not supposed to make Yunho feel like an addict ready to do just about anything to get another fix. He is not supposed to zone out of important meetings, daydreaming about sinful lips stretched around his dick or chest freckles decorated with his come to the point where he has to scoot in closer to the conference table to better hide his raging erection.

And it sure as f*ck isn’t supposed to include sleepovers.

But Mingi had been so adorably sleepy. He’d stumbled into the hotel room after a late shift, tired and cranky. And Yunho had cooed, peeled off his clothes, held him in the shower and used one soap-slicked hand to get both of them off and lent him an old tee. He’d tucked him in and slid in right next to him. It had taken Mingi all of three breaths to fall asleep. It was all so terrifyingly domestic. And he hadn’t thought twice about it.

Until, of course, it’s 2am and he’s overthinking everything. It’s the first time he’s shared a bed with someone else since his ex walked out. It takes him a second to remember it’s been more than five months. It’s been much longer than that since he’s cuddled anyone to sleep.

sh*t. He is so f*cked.

What’s worse, Mingi’s steady breathing and warm skin are so very soothing. He can’t even freak out properly it’s too calming. He feels himself relax and slowly, slowly drifting off. His last thought is that he’s a massive f*cking idiot.

A few hours later, Yunho wakes up to the glorious sensation of a hot wet mouth around his rock hard dick. So, maybe he’s actually a genius after all.

He cracks an eye open and makes a garbled noise at the sight of Mingi taking his co*ck nearly to the hilt. White spots float through his vision as the tip hits the back of his throat. The minx f*cking swallows and hums, and Yunho’s lungs forget how breathing works for a full minute. It’s certainly not the worst way to die, so fair enough.

His hips can’t help but buck up into the slick heat and Mingi lets him shallowly f*ck into his mouth. It’s so dirty and so hot his peak almost takes Yunho by surprise. He comes so hard down Mingi’s throat all he can do is flop back bonelessly onto the bed, utterly undone.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Mingi’s voice, already deep as it is, is even more gravelly in the morning and after taking his dick. Yunho’s insides clench in a very late aftershock and the pleasure is so intense it’s almost painful.

He can only huff and rub his eyes, body and brain too liquefied to be very coherent.

“That good huh?”

Yunho musters a glare. “Don’t let it go to your head, princess.”

It does nothing to diminish Mingi’s pleased smile. Yunho’s treacherous heart does a summersault and he vows to give himself a stern talking to later. But like, after he’s had a coffee and gets Mingi off.

He misses his train home and has to take a later one. He’s not even a little bit sorry.

Yeah, Yunho is royally f*cked.

Luckily for Yunho, he is also an Olympic level rationaliser. Mingi is great and the sex is magnificent. Of course Yunho’s starting to catch feelings, that’s a totally normal and logical progression of this thing they’re having. Like, it’s a good thing to be fond of the person you f*ck every now and then. And surely it’s not that weird to spend most of one’s waking hours thinking of plowing said person six ways from Sunday. It’s not that deep, right?

After years of at best lukewarm sexual activity with his ex, it’s only natural that he’s raring to go now. Yunho had never been particularly adventurous in bed, but the internet tells him having a quarter-life crisis that involves a raunchy sexual awakening is fairly common. So, really, there’s a totally scientific reason for his compulsive desire for Mingi. And of course he cares for the other man, he’s not a sociopath.

Totally normal and rational behaviour.

When those arguments threaten to fall a little short in his head, Yunho has one last resort to keep any panic about his entanglement at bay. Mingi lives in Gwangju. The distance is like a safety net to keep any delulu in check, so anything as idiotic and terrifying as doing something about those feelings is out of the question.

Yunho never thought he’d be grateful to be snowed under at work, but here we are. The endless strategic conference calls and mind-numbing sales projection reports are a wonderful distraction from any uncomfortable thoughts. Being busy and exhausted also helps stave off the temptation to text Mingi all day. Hongjoong has skewered him with the most bombastic side-eye known to man from across the room on more than one occasion after catching Yunho smiling like a loon at a funny meme the bartender sent him in the middle of a meeting.

What? Yunho likes cute puppies, so sue him. God.

The fourth time Yunho travels South, Hongjoong comes with. It’s both reassuring and petrifying. He doesn’t quite know how to feel about his two realities colliding like this. Yunho imagines it’s a bit like those guys who have two separate families in different cities, and now they are about to meet. He low-key has a panic episode in the train bathroom, hyperventilating, heart hammering, can’t feel his fingers.

Hongjoong eyes him suspiciously when he comes back out, still pale and shaky. He hands him a tissue and Yunho looks at him in confusion.

“To mop up the sweat, babes,” he says. “You’re wetter than I was at Waterbomb.”

Yunho glares, but snatches the tissue and dabs at his forehead and upper lip regardless.

They are both silent for a few minutes. Yunho half-expects Hongjoong to make a sarcastic comment about the prospect of spending time in Gwangju being enough to put anyone off. But he doesn’t.

“Are you okay?”

The soft question catches Yunho off guard and he swallows thickly, one shoulder coming up in half a shrug. He’s dreading seeing judgement in his friend’s eyes, but finds nothing but genuine care.

Hongjoong may be prickly and fierce, but he is also kind and soft for the very few people he loves. Yunho knows this intimately. He’d been there for him in the hazy days right after the breakup, when he’d barely managed essential functions. He’d fed Yunho, made sure he washed up, dressed and went to work. He’d packed up the things his ex left in his haste to get away. Truthfully, Yunho remembers very little of those two weeks. But he does remember his hyung being there, listening to Yunho rant and rage about the bastard who just walked out one day after four years, the unbridled heaving ugly crying episodes, the numb silences. Hongjoong had his back in a way his ex never had.

“Yeah,” Yunho sighs. “Just a bit nervous.”

Another contender for understatement of the f*cking year. But Yunho’s pulse is starting to steady, his erratic breathing evening out. He trusts Hongjoong and he wants him to meet Mingi. Almost as if after three months he still isn’t entirely sure the other man isn’t just a figment of his imagination, dreamed up by his drunken brain to cope. Maybe it’s a tad cowardly, but he needs someone else to see Mingi and tell him he’s real and… and that it’s okay. Hongjoong searches his face for another minute before being satisfied Yunho is no longer freaking out.

“Calm down, wifey. I’m not going to chop his dick off for stealing you or whatever,” he rolls his eyes. “I just want to make sure he’s a decent bloke.”

Yunho chuckles and is immensely grateful for his hyung’s blunt assholery. He holds up his hands in mock surrender.

“From what you’ve told me, it’s much too fine a dick to be wasted anyhow,” Hongjoong adds.

And while that is entirely true, what Yunho finds himself thinking most about is the way Mingi kisses. His lips are soft, pillowy, begging to make out, sure, but even more than that he understands there’s like a narrative arc to it. He’s never hurried, always keen to explore the kiss and let it go where it pleases. It’s indulgent, luxurious and the best f*cking foreplay of Yunho’s life. Because for all his attention to necking leisurely, he never holds out unnecessarily. He knows when to pick up the pace and when to slow down. Those lips are trouble and Yunho wants a front row seat.

He must have spaced out because Hongjoong sports a vague air of disgust and has stolen his potato chips. Yunho can’t even find enough f*cks to give to snatch them back.

Their day in Gwangju is packed with introductions, meetings, food, more meetings, an unhinged ping pong tournament, another meeting, shots and more food. They are both knackered, but there is no way in hell Yunho would bail on Mingi and Hongjoong is too much of a nosy bitch not to tag along.

“Oh f*ck, you weren’t kidding, he’s well fit,” Hongjoong breathes as soon as they enter the bar.

Yunho grins in smug as he chucks off his coat. They’re here on a random Tuesday and it’s pretty quiet.

“I thought you said he was tall? This guy’s barely got half an inch on me.”

Yunho whips around to the bar. “Ah, oh, that’s not… That’s Wooyoung, hyung.”

“Oh.”

Hongjoong, who’d been eagerly approaching the bar, freezes momentarily, eyes glued to the smaller bartender. His ears take on a pinkish hue Yunho has never seen on them before. Huh, interesting.

Before he can tease the sh*t out of his hyung for his obvious attraction to “a country bumpkin” of his own, the very ridicule he’d directed at Yunho often over the past few weeks, Mingi walks in holding a crate of booze. His face breaks into a broad smile, one Yunho is sure mirrors his own, and he gives a small wave.

His appearance shakes Hongjoong out of his Wooyoung-induced paralysis. His hyung’s calculating eyes slide over Mingi’s taller form and he slants a look at Yunho.

“Ah,” he says nonchalantly. “Yep, that tracks.”

Yunho has no clue what he means by that. But he’s long since given up on trying to understand Hongjoong. He’s always been the more mellow and predictable one, while his hyung is a strap-in-and-brace-for-anything kind of friend, which suits Yunho just fine.

“Mingi-ya, this is my hyung, Hongjoong,” he sounds a little too breathless for his own liking, but his throat sometimes gets stuck in unhelpful spasms around him, so he’ll take what he can get.

Mingi’s smile turns a tad fixed as he shakes Hongjoong’s hand. Yunho suspects the smaller man is squeezing just a little harder than necessary. And well, he may be tiny, but he has a sleeper build. Judging by the size of his chest, he could probably bench Yunho.

“So nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Hongjoong says, showing a tad too much of his canines to be entirely innocent.

Yunho steps on the back of his heel in warning and his hyung yelps. It earns him another one of his legendary side-eyes, so dramatic.

If Mingi notices the unspoken communication between them, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he smiles winningly and bows. Never one to miss out on any tea, Wooyoung joins their huddle.

“Hi! I’m Wooyoung, I work with Mingi,” he says, extending his hand.

“Yes, I can see that,” there’s just a tinge of sarcasm in Hongjoong’s voice. Yunho sucks his teeth but he needn’t have worried.

“Ah, looks and brains, must be my lucky day!” Wooyoung shoots back smoothly with a devastating smile.

Hongjoong seems to malfunction for a second, before he straight up giggles. Although they’re about the same height, Wooyoung’s tanned hand nearly swallows Hongjoong’s more delicate one. Yunho isn’t sure if he imagines it, but they hold eye-contact for a beat or two beyond what he thinks is socially acceptable.

“Come sit and have a drink,” Wooyoung says, ushering Mingi back behind the bar.

Yunho still has nightmares about the first co*cktail the shorter man ever made him, so he’s relieved he’s dodging that particular bullet this time. Mingi serves him the citrusy minty concoction that’s quickly become his usual, while Wooyoung slides a suspiciously purple drink towards Hongjoong.

He tries to hide it, but the shorter bartender is sneaking hopeful glances as Hongjoong takes a sip. Yunho holds his breath as one eye twitches, the only indication on his face anything is amiss. But then his savage hyung who once made a bouncer cry with a particularly inspired verbal takedown for refusing them entry into a club, just smiles and tips his glass at Wooyoung. The bartender preens, the cutest of little proud blushes painting his cheeks.

Well they are certainly going to have a conversation about whatever that was later. Talk about acting out of character, what a f*cking hypocrite.

He turns back to Mingi to comment on the bizarre behaviour, but the words die in his throat because the other man is already looking at him, eyes fond and full of promise. He totally forgets what he was going to say.

“How was your day?” Mingi asks with a little smile.

Such an innocent little question, really. But it sends a thousand little needles prickling along Yunho’s skin. What he wouldn’t have given for another person to have asked him this only a few months ago. But he isn’t here and he’s not the one asking. And Yunho is tired of being sad. So, after a moment’s hesitation he smiles wryly.

“Long, but pretty productive I think,” he takes a sip of his drink. “I think the CEO is going to make a decision soon about whether he wants to hire us.”

“Oh.” Mingi’s smile falters and he starts to chew his lip. “So, um, I guess that means Gwangju may see a bit less of you, if they say no?”

Jeong Yunho, you motherf*cking idiot.

He has no reason whatsoever to come back here if Yeosang doesn’t sign the contract. None, except for the 6-foot and change hunk of pure dorky wonderful in front of him. It should be a no-brainer to reassure him and say Seoul is only a couple of hours away. But he’s as spineless as ever and deflects.

“Ah, they seem pretty keen, I’m quite confident they’ll take us on.”

It’s not a lie, he does have a good feeling about this. Which is why he hadn’t really thought about what would happen if the answer is no. That and he’d been so focused on winning the account he’d actually gotten invested. For the very first time in his career, he actually wants something. He believes in Yeosang’s vision and genuinely thinks he could help his business grow and thrive. Still, he doesn’t have the best track record getting what he wants.

His answer seems to mollify Mingi, though.

“Good,” he says softly. “Gwangju still has so much more to offer.”

Yunho can’t help but laugh at the double entendre. “Oh yeah?”

“For sure, there’s so much left to explore, to see and do,” Mingi’s smiling devilishly now. “So many places to eat out.”

Yunho clears his throat, it’s suddenly gone very dry indeed.

“Eat?” Wooyoung pipes up. “I could eat. You hungry?”

He looks at Hongjoong, whose eyes give him a lightning quick once-over. “Starving,” he says.

f*ck, Yunho had totally forgotten about them for a second. Mingi raises his eyebrows and pulls up one corner of his mouth. Yunho puckers his lips as if in thought.

“Hmm, I’m good actually, had some chicken before we got here.”

“Yeah, same, I had some food in the back earlier,” Mingi is quick to add.

Hongjoong’s eyeroll is scathing, but he doesn’t comment. Wooyoung plays entirely dumb and smiles sweetly at them both.

This time, Mingi is the one who struggles to keep his hands off Yunho as they speed-walk to his hotel. He shoves a whole hand into the back of Yunho’s slacks in the elevator and scars an elderly lady for life when the doors open on his floor and the other man’s tongue is very much down his throat. He barely gets an apology out, before he’s being shoved into the corridor.

Whatever has gotten into Mingi, Yunho is into it. Holy sh*t but it feels good to be wanted desperately. He crowds Yunho against the door as he tries to jam that f*cking key card in, the hot breath on the back of his neck and hard rod poking his ass doing nothing for his aim.

“Hurry up,” he grouches against his nape, hands already pulling Yunho’s white button down out of his slacks to slide over the smooth skin of his hips.

Yunho huffs out a raspy laugh. “What was that thing you said about slow being smooth being fast?”

“It’s f*cking overrated,” Mingi says, snatches the key card out of his admittedly slightly shaky fingers, rams it home and all but kicks the door open. Whatever air was left in Yunho’s lungs is promptly knocked out of them as Mingi full on tosses him against the wall.

It’s so incredibly hot to be manhandled like a doll, like he’s only there to please any and all of Mingi’s needs. Honest to God, a little sliver of drool slips out of the corner of his mouth. It doesn’t matter because Mingi’s mouth is on his before he can even take a proper breath and the other man’s tongue is f*cking into his mouth filthily.

He ruts his hard co*ck against Yunho’s rapidly growing erection and bites his bottom lip hard enough to sting a little. Yunho feels like he’s lost all control of his limbs, like his brain is failing to send any of the right signals down.

Mingi breaks their kiss to start fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, but they are fiddly. He catches Yunho’s eyes, but he’s in no position to exercise fine motor skills either. With the sexiest growl that has ever growled, he skips to straight up ripping it open, sending the buttons flying.

Yunho is so stunned and turned on his throat produces some sort of high-pitched whistling noise. f*ck, this man is going to f*cking kill him dead with sex and all Yunho can do is say yes, please. Mingi attacks his neck in a way that is sure to leave bruises and it strokes a deep and primal need Yunho never knew he had. He wants to be marked, to let people know he’s taken.

“Can I f*ck you tonight?”

Mingi’s voice is so rough and deep that alone sends a frisson straight to Yunho’s dick. It takes his hazy brain a second to figure out what the words mean. Yunho has never in his life seen anyone swoon and doesn’t really know what it means, but he’s pretty sure that’s what would have happened if he hadn’t been sandwiched between the wall and the sex demon before him.

Yunho nods fervently.

“I need words, hot stuff.” The gravelliness reaches new heights.

“f*ck, oh my god,” Yunho licks his lips and clings to Mingi’s shoulders. “Yes, please, yes.”

Mingi husks out a laugh. “Good boy.”

Yunho’s head thunks back against the wall. What the f*ck. What the f*ck. In that moment if Mingi asked, he would quite literally get on his hands and knees, lick his boots and bark on command. Holy f*cking sh*t.

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”

He scrambles to obey, chucking off his shoes, slacks, ruined shirt and underwear.

“Hands and knees, baby.”

Yunho again doesn’t hesitate. From the mirror on the hotel wardrobe, he can see Mingi is still fully dressed. He fishes out the bottle of lube Yunho now always carries in his travel bag and tosses it on the bed. He’s staring at Yunho’s backside, bare and exposed, like a man possessed. Mingi brings one of his large hands down in a sharp slap and Yunho jolts like he’s been electrocuted.

“You like that?”

Yunho moans in response. Mingi hits him again, leaving the imprint of a lovely red palm on the white flesh of Yunho’s ass. He buckles through his elbows. He’s never been one to try very kinky things, but there is something about this dominant side of Mingi spanking him that sets every cell in his body alight.

Mingi gives him a few more, before spreading his butt cheeks and licking a long, wet stripe from his balls to his hole. Yunho clenches his thighs against the shock of it, but Mingi’s strong hands are keeping him spread open. That wicked tongue starts to probe his rim along with a thick finger and Yunho is now drooling in earnest, moaning shamelessly into the thin sheets. One of his arms shoots back to grind Mingi’s face further into his ass. Yunho has never in his life come untouched, but he thinks if this goes on much longer, he could get there.

Mingi has other plans, though. Yunho is already so far gone he hasn’t noticed Mingi has moved position until he’s two slick fingers deep.

“That’s it, love, you’re doing so good for me.”

Mingi trails a hot path of kisses along his spine. He scissors his fingers and Yunho lets out a stuttering moan. He knows he’s tight, he hasn’t done this in so long. Hasn’t particularly wanted to be vulnerable like this with anyone for a while. But for all Mingi’s hot-as-f*ck forceful attitude tonight, he’s so gentle and sweet in coaxing him to loosen up.

At last, he hears the crinkling of the condom packet and feels Mingi line himself up. It takes him a few minutes to adjust to the overwhelming feeling of fullness, the heat of a thick co*ck fully sheathed inside, the chafe of Mingi’s jeans to the back of his thighs.

Yunho cranes his neck to catch their reflection. Mingi’s jeans are halfway down his hips and his black shirt is hanging open, and he is buried absolutely to the hilt in his ass. Yunho watches mesmerised as his hips pull back and push forward, thick thighs tensing. Mingi guides his hips down to meet every thrust. Yunho pushes up on shaky arms to look back at his lover over his shoulder.

Mingi meets his heated gaze and snaps forward a bit more aggressively. Then he throws his head back with a long groan, changing the angle slightly, and white-hot pleasure slices through Yunho. He cries out and sags down, desperately fisting the sheets. Mingi makes sure to hit the same spot relentlessly.

Yunho chants Mingi’s name rough and low into his forearm. All of the muscles in his body tense up as every thrust pushes him higher and higher. He can feel Mingi starting to lose his rhythm, fingers digging into the flesh of his hips. Yunho’s pleasure crests and then he’s falling, falling, shooting his load into the sheets underneath him.

In the next breath, Mingi grunts his name and stutters to a halt, folding his body over Yunho’s sweaty back as his co*ck throbs his release into the condom. They collapse into the damp sheets, breathless and shaky, still connected.

Yunho doesn’t know how long they stay like that as he zones out for a bit. The room snaps back into focus when Mingi gently slips out with a sigh. He heads to the bathroom, stumbling a bit as his trousers are still caught around his thighs. A minute later, he wipes a warm cloth over Yunho’s face, his chest, and down his spent dick to his slick and loose hole.

“You did this for me the night we met,” he says softly.

Mingi’s smile is fond. “Yeah, you were um, pretty out of it.”

“Well, I’m very sorry for not braiding your hair and painting your nails after drilling you into the mattress while half-drunk,” Yunho throws a pillow at him. It lands more than a foot away.

All his limbs feel like jello and there’s a pleasant fuzzy warmth in his chest. Sitting on the train back to Seoul for a few hours tomorrow was going to be absolute hell, but it would also be a reminder of the best f*ck of his life, so there’s that.

“Apology accepted,” Mingi hums.

He’s finally taken his clothes off and slips underneath the sheets naked as the day he was born. They should shower, they should put their clothes away, they should brush their teeth, they should talk about where this is going. But Mingi drawing him in as the little spoon is so cosy and nice he doesn’t want to get up. Soon his eyes start to drift shut.

“Yunho?”

“Hmmm?”

There’s a pause and he can feel Mingi holding his breath. It pulls him from his sleepy lull.

“Next month is my birthday, and I was hoping, maybe–” he trails off. “I would love it if you would come up that weekend. To stay. With me.”

Yunho’s eyes fly open and his heart rate picks up. This isn’t what they do. This is definitely overstepping the boundaries of this being the simple, uncomplicated business trip fling Yunho had been trying so hard to convince himself of over the last three months. His gut clenches sharply.

But is what they have been doing fair to Mingi? Yunho has been working hard to arrange trips to Gwangju and he tries to give the other man as much notice as he can. But he’s essentially got the other man on call. Shouldn’t Yunho make an effort to come when Mingi wants to see him?

Mingi has made him feel so good and if he can be selfless and selfish at the same time, maybe he should take that opportunity. So, he grabs Mingi’s arm and winds it across his own chest.

“Yeah, that sounds really nice,” he murmurs.

Mingi lets out a little puff of relief against his nape and it sets off goosebumps across his shoulder blades.

He presses his lips to the skin, warm and steady. “Okay.”

Predictably, Yunho squirms uncomfortably in his seat less than 10 minutes into the journey back. Hongjoong raises a derisive eyebrow and snorts.

“Well I guess I know what you two got up to last night.”

Yunho levels him with a flat stare.

“Or well, who got up who at least.”

He chucks a grape at his hyung and smiles in vicious satisfaction as it bounces of his forehead. Hongjoong squawks in indignation, but eats the grape anyway. He slants his eyes towards Yunho as if to say Well?

“He was a perfect gentleman, if you must know,” he offers.

“Gay.”

“Very.”

“I can tell by the massive hickey on your neck,” Hongjoong says casually.

Yunho’s hands fly to the collar of his jumper guiltily and he sighs.

“Fine, he threw me around, pounded me into oblivion and I came without touching myself.”

Yunho blushes scarlet, despite his hyung having shared much kinkier sexcapades in much more lurid detail in even less appropriate settings in the past.

Hongjoong whistles. “Look at my little Yuyu, all grown up!”

They hold eye-contact for a couple of seconds before they both start to laugh. Hongjoong gently kicks his foot under the little train table that separates them.

“Seriously though, babes, be careful yeah?”

Yunho sends him a stricken look.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I ah, well he may have invited me over for his birthday weekend in August,” Yunho stammers. Hongjoong’s eyes darken. “And I may have said yes?”

The silence that follows is deafening. His hyung is staring him down and it’d making sweat bead on his upper lip.

“Let me guess, this was after the mind-blowing sex?”

Yunho nods.

“Playing dirty, impressive,” Hongjoong pops another grape in his mouth. “Well, it’s not a bad thing to spend a bit more time around him, maybe I don’t know, communicate about what you’re thinking and feeling.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“What can I say,” Hongjoong shrugs. “Do as I say, not as I do.”

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

To no one’s surprise, Yunho does not communicate about his thoughts and feelings. Least of all with Mingi.

No, he goes the very mature and super healthy route of avoidance with a sprinkle of denial. It’s not so much a conscious choice as a knee-jerk act of self-preservation. That and it’s hard to focus on asking himself the hard questions when he’s slowly going insane.

Because after months of frequent trips and boisterous meetings with Yeosang and the Wonderland crew, things go eerily quiet. Initially he’s not all that worried. This sometimes happens, there can be a natural lull in the courting process. A little hiccup, nothing more.

But Yunho is getting the distinct impression he’s being ghosted and it’s starting to piss him off. He hasn’t spoken directly to Yeosang in weeks, always intercepted by his ever-polite but impassable assistant Choi San. He’s not at his desk right now and he’ll get back to you shortly turns into he’s unavailable and not to be disturbed. And then a meeting in Gwangju is called off with less than 48 hours’ notice and Yunho is now properly sweating bullets.

Normally, he’d pull back a bit himself and wait them out. See if they’ve really gone cold or are just playing hard to get. But he’s embarrassingly desperate for any sort of sign Wonderland are still in this. Because if they’re not. If they’re not he has to face a few uncomfortable truths. One, the only real motivation he’s had at this godforsaken corporate hellscape would go up in smoke. And two, there’s Mingi. What the f*ck is he going to do about Mingi?

The thought of not ever seeing him again is f*cking horrifying. But so is the idea of baring his soul to another person. He is still so raw and angry and confused about what happened. The more time passes, the more alienated he feels from the past four years of his life. Now that he’s out of it and cleansed his palate of the bitterness of rejection, he can see the relationship had been dying for a long time. At least his ex had had the balls to call it in the end, however painful and shocking it had been at the time.

It’s scary how much Yunho had been sleepwalking. How far he’d quite blindly sunk into a life he didn't even want. Knowing how easy it is to lose himself in someone else and their needs, can he ever risk that again? Yunho is loath to give anyone that kind of power over him again. Mingi isn’t like his ex, he knows that, but well, his ex hadn’t been like that to begin with either.

Disturbingly, he’s been going through something like withdrawals after not seeing Mingi for a couple of weeks. It’s like his last visit knocked something loose and it has been rattling around inside of him ever since. It is slowly driving him up the wall.

When the business trip gets called off unexpectedly, he teeters on the edge of going anyway. But his sycophantic dipsh*t of a boss had already filled his calendar with different business meetings, so he reluctantly decides to stay in Seoul.

Mingi is disappointed, but very understanding. Yunho almost wishes he would kick up a bigger fuss or put more pressure on him, because he would cave like a cheap granola bar. Instead, they do their first video call. Seeing Mingi’s face all ruffled and sleepy after a long shift bundled up in bed loosens the vice that now almost permanently sits around his lungs a tad.

They talk about their days, but it doesn’t take long for the conversation to devolve into something else. Yunho had always found the idea of phone sex to be incredibly cringe, but Mingi’s scratchy low voice and drowsy sighs soon sparks arousal low in his belly. Before he knows it, they’re both stroking themselves and breathing hard, trying to position their phones against their sheets to both see and show as much as possible.

“f*ck, princess, you’re so beautiful. Just look at you.”

He can hear a muffled hitch in Mingi’s breath over the phone and Yunho has to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something dangerous like you’re mine, all mine.

“I want you so bad Mingi,” he groans instead.

The other man bucks and comes all over his hand, face scrunched up, eyes closed, spit-slick mouth open and slack in pleasure, before whispering his name. Yunho watches mesmerised as Mingi strokes himself through it, shuddering until he sighs in contentment.

It’s so intimate he is utterly powerless. Yunho bites his lip and climaxes with a choked moan, eyes glued to the screen so as not to miss a single second of Mingi’s gloriously f*cked-out expression. They’re silent for a couple of minutes, catching their breath.

“I miss you.”

Mingi says it so softly Yunho almost doesn’t catch it. And he aches, f*ck but he aches. He musters the courage to say it back, heart hammering, because it’s true and he deserves to hear it. Mingi’s smile is shy and sweet. It burns.

The call takes the edge off physically, but it only fuels the itch in his brain. He’s so restless Yunho finds he now only has two settings: irreparably scatterbrained or so hyperfocused it’s counterproductive in its own way.

That and he’s in a foul, foul mood, snapping at people like a rabid dog and walking around like he wants to punch through walls.

So far, Yunho had always gotten away with coasting at work because of his sunny and polite attitude. Colleagues would swipe any lack of real enthusiasm under the rug as long as he would smile and pretend to care about their cat’s health or kid’s grades. But even though his productivity has skyrocketed, people are giving him a wide berth and whispering behind his back whenever he stalks by.

To begin with, Hongjoong had been amused by his suffering, the twat. But even he’s getting fed up with Yunho’s moodiness.

“Lunch, my darling wife?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Hongjoong, some of us don’t have the luxury of f*cking off for two hours to talk about all the boys they’ve made cry this week.”

“Oh dear, who pissed in your cheerios this morning?” He sounds supremely unperturbed.

Yunho’s glare would have been enough to incinerate anyone else. But Hongjoong just looks unimpressed.

“You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to scare me off, puppy,” the older man says.

Yunho opens his mouth to protest, but Hongjoong leans over his desk with such a disturbingly maniacal smile on his face that he can’t help but shrink back a little.

“We both know I can easily add you to the tally of crying boys. So, if you like your balls attached, you will keep that pretty little mouth shut and listen to what I have to say, hmm?”

His tone is so insincerely sweet it sends a shiver down Yunho’s spine. He swallows and glances around to confirm all his neighbours have stepped away for lunch. Hongjoong has never actually been mean to him and he’d rather not find out what that’s like. He’s seen the aftermath often enough.

He feels sh*tter with every second that passes. Hongjoong had been there through the worst days of his life and all it takes is a setback at work and blue balls for Yunho to become a right asshole.

“Hyung, I’m so-” he says, before he has a chance to speak.

“Save it,” Hongjoong holds up his tiny hand. “We both know I’ve been a bigger bitch about smaller stuff.”

Still. Yunho had always thought of himself as a rational person. That’s why being affable and optimistic had always come quite naturally to him. Bad things were bound to happen, but they were also bound to pass. Even in the depths of the hole left by the man he had genuinely thought he would be with for the rest of his life, he’d known that eventually he’d recover. Not unscathed, but not finished either.

And yet, here he is fighting for his life not to bite some unsuspecting colleague’s head off for breathing too loud. f*ck.

“I don’t know, seems pretty big to me,” Yunho sighs.

“I’m sure it is, if the pining is turning my sweet puppy Yuyu this feral.”

“Been reading too many of those spicy werewolf books again, I see,” Yunho smirks, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“My point is,” Hongjoong pins him with a glare at the clumsy deflection. “You can’t keep doing this. Something’s got to give and it’s going to be your job and all your friendships if you’re not careful.”

Okay, harsh. Yunho didn’t think Hongjoong would sugarcoat it but damn. He knows his behaviour has been unacceptable, but perhaps it was worse than he thought. He winces and his hyung’s gaze softens a bit.

“You have to make up your mind, babes. If you’re not in this, you have to tell him now.”

And that’s the real pinch. Because as much as he’s been a sh*t to people in his direct orbit, he’s being unfair to Mingi. The thought tastes like bile. He been nothing but wonderful and open and brave, and Yunho has responded by being evasive and vague. God, it’s despicable. Mingi deserves so much better.

“I know,” he murmurs, chastened.

“Good.”

Yunho plasters on his best smile and spends the afternoon fetching coffees, complimenting people on their outfits and having an hour-long conversation with someone about their pet turtle. People still seem a tad wary, but the damage control is starting to pay off. He falls into bed exhausted and determined to talk to Mingi the next day.

In one hell of a cosmic twist of fate, he’s buzzing Mingi into his building less than 24 hours later. This hadn’t quite been the plan, but apparently the universe is tired of waiting for him to get his sh*t together. Mingi’s sister-in-law had unexpectedly given birth a whole month early, so he’d rushed up to Seoul to admire his nephew over the weekend and would be staying with his cousin Jongho.

He’d sounded nervous telling Yunho over the phone, like he wasn’t entirely sure he'd want to see him. It felt like a punch in the gut. Yunho’d been taken off guard and wanted to make the other man feel better so badly he’d hurried to invite him over on the Friday eve.

The prospect of having sweet, dorky, kind, sex demon Mingi in the flat he’d shared with his ex is sending his stomach into all sorts of acrobatics. But the ever-present vice around his lungs slackens considerably when he opens the door and is greeted by a shy, but blinding crooked smile.

Mingi toes off a pair of beaten up converse that may have once been black. He’s wearing ripped acid jeans and a slightly frayed dark jumper, bleached hair sticking up every which way and dark roots showing. He looks so adorably rumpled and so not at all stuck up like people in Seoul tend to be. f*ck, but he’s perfect.

“Damn, this place is really nice.”

Mingi’s eyes nearly bug out of his head as he walks around, clutching the faded tote hanging off his shoulder. He hunches a bit, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, aware that he’s out of place amid the creams and whites Yunho’s ex had favoured.

“I think it’s too big and too cold,” Yunho shrugs, motioning for Mingi to sit on the pristine sofa. “I’d prefer a much cosier place, but I have a couple of months left on the lease.”

“Oh, you didn’t choose it yourself?”

It’s the perfect opening to tell Mingi about his ex. But the whole story would take hours and certainly put a damper on the mood. And the man had quite frankly ruined enough in Yunho’s life already. So, he offers an abridged version.

“My ah, boyfriend at the time really liked it, so…” He shrugs again. “Turns out, our style wasn’t the only thing that didn’t line up. We parted ways a few months before you and I met, and I got stuck with the apartment I never really wanted.”

Okay, so a very abridged version, but that’s essentially what it boils down to. Mingi frowns and nibbles his bottom lip, but doesn’t press the matter.

“Well I may have something that could help make it feel less, err, sterile?”

Mingi struggles to retrieve something from his tote bag for a moment and manages to slide it out with a cute huff of triumph. He clutches what looks like a picture frame in both his hands for a moment, as if reluctant to hand it over. Yunho’s fingers itch to snatch it, but he forces himself to be patient. Mingi relents, two fetching spots of pink embarrassment blooming high on his cheeks.

It takes Yunho’s brain a second to catch up to what he’s seeing. It’s a framed map of Gwangju in vintage art style. His eyes are drawn to three little marks in red. Mingi leans in, pushing their knees together, and points to the first one with a slightly shaky finger.

“That’s my place.” His finger moves south, “and that’s your Holiday Inn.” He smiles and ducks his head as Yunho turns his face towards him with a raised eyebrow. “And that’s the bar.”

Yunho is still studying Mingi’s profile, eyes trailing over his strong jawline, the sleek slope of his nose, the soft curve of his plush lips.

“Where we met,” Yunho says softly.

Mingi raises his eyes and finally turns his head towards Yunho. They are so close, Yunho feels his soft breath fanning over his own lips.

“Where we met,” he murmurs back.

The gift is sweet and thoughtful and sentimental. And it leaves very little doubt as to whether Mingi’s heart is in this. It should terrify Yunho to the core, but it just, well, doesn’t. Instead, he closes the distance and gently presses his lips to Mingi’s.

The kiss is featherlight, but weighty. Yunho sets the frame down on the floor, turns fully towards the other man and cups his face with his large hands. It’s a perfect fit.

Mingi sighs into it, lightly holding on to Yunho’s wrists. They kiss languidly for a long time, until both men are flushed and breathless. When Yunho opens his eyes again, he finds the summer sun has set without either of them noticing, blanketing the room in a gentle twilight.

He stands wordlessly, holding out a hand for the other man. He leads a slightly dazed Mingi through the dark hallway to his bedroom. Yunho gently presses him down onto the bed he used to share with his ex. Neither speak in the darkness of the room. The moonlight streaming in through the window makes every inch of Mingi’s skin glow ethereally. He looks so beautiful it steals Yunho’s breath away.

He covers Mingi’s body with his own and takes his time opening him up, greedily swallowing his soft gasps and breathless moans. When he finally pushes inside, his hands find the other man’s and their fingers curl together. Yunho’s thrusts are deep and slow, he wants Mingi to feel precious, wanted, desired. He shies away from the next word in the series, but he knows what this is. They are making love.

When Mingi’s pants get more desperate and his eyes bounce around Yunho’s shadowed face, he shushes him and leans down to kiss him softly.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers against his lips.

He untangles one of his hands to stroke Mingi, firm but unhurried. The other man keens and shivers as he comes with a wordless cry. Yunho’s own hips stutter as the high of giving pleasure courses through his veins. After a few more thrusts, he finds his own release in Mingi’s tight heat. He bites down on his collarbone, soothing the marks with his tongue after. It pulls another wrecked sound from Mingi’s lips.

For once, the other man is too undone to move and Yunho handles the aftercare, gently wiping his skin clean. He gets distracted kissing every chest freckle he meets, until Mingi paws at him tiredly.

Yunho wraps himself around Mingi and manoeuvres them into a comfortable position. His arm is wound tightly around the other man’s midsection, lips leaving gentle kisses along the back of his neck, ear and shoulder blade. Soon, Mingi’s breaths even out. Yunho stares into the darkness of the bedroom and he knows things will never quite be the same again after tonight.

He wakes up to the morning sun blazing in. Yunho had entirely forgotten to close the blinds. He’s gotten so used to waking up alone, it takes him a second to realise Mingi isn’t in the bed. Yunho pulls on a pair of sweatpants and patters towards the noises coming from his kitchen.

Mingi is making coffee like an expert at the fancy Italian coffee maker his ex’s mother had bought them for Christmas. The morning rays cast him in a golden light and he’s wearing Yunho’s clothes. A simple sleep shirt and shorts. It’s so domestic it sets off a telltale clench around Yunho’s heart. He wants this, all of the time.

Mingi flashes him a dimple when he notices Yunho in the doorway. Another arrow embeds itself in Yunhos poor abused chest.

“Coffee?”

He’s already pouring frothy milk over what smells like divine espresso and sliding the cup across the island towards Yunho.

“You know the way to a man’s heart.”

Mingi whips his head towards him, eyes raking across his bare chest, before they crinkle into a smile.

“I hope so, yeah.”

The delicious coffee is followed by a slightly less delicious, but perfectly passable omelette prepared by Yunho. After the caffeine kicks in, they talk about what to do before Mingi heads off to see his family.

“Did your ex used to live here with you?”

The question is so out of left field it throws Yunho for a second.

“Err, yeah, we did for a few months.”

Mingi hums and looks around the kitchen into the living room. He pops a slice of apple into his mouth. He casually turns back to Yunho and pins him with a decidedly heated gaze.

“Want to erase the bad memories and make some better ones?”

Yunho nearly drops his second cappuccino, but salvages it. He sets it down carefully and walks over to Mingi who’s leaning against the counter. He crowds him up against it, hands resting either side of him to cage him in. He can feel the other man’s sharp gasp as he nuzzles his nose under his ear to breathe in a lungful of his scent.

When he straightens and looks up at Mingi, his grin is wolfish.

Yunho eats Mingi out on the kitchen island and is rewarded with a blowj*b on that f*cking gorgeous couch that cost as much as his monthly wages. He f*cks the other man against the living room window and in the shower, while Mingi rims and fingers him on the dining table. He makes a mental note to have the cleaner come around early next week.

Several hours, two org*sms and two showers each later, Mingi is shoving his feet back into his converse, having borrowed a pair of Yunho’s boxers and one of his denim shirts. Even though he’s utterly, utterly spent, Yunho want to drag the other man back inside so no one else gets to enjoy how hot he looks.

He has no excuse to hold Mingi up any longer and he is already running late, but he can’t help himself.

“Princess,” he lightly grabs his elbow. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight. Please?”

Mingi stumbles over his laces a little and Yunho tightens his grip to help steady him.

“Uh yeah, yes, sure,” he stammers.

Yunho smiles at his bumbling awkwardness like they hadn’t just christened every surface of the apartment. Like his co*ck hadn’t been buried deep inside him not 30 minutes ago.

“I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

Mingi nods and opens the front door. Yunho can’t resist an entirely inappropriate kiss for a public hallway, before the other man finally makes his escape.

f*ck but he’s whipped.

Yunho closes the door and leans back against it, letting his eyes trail over the flat he’d detested for so long. Mingi’s plan had worked. The first thing to come to mind looking into his living room is a wicked mouth and sultry eyes, not the hours he spent curled up on it in a blanket numbly watching monstertruck rallies because he couldn’t sleep. The kitchen reminds him of honeyed skin and filthy moans, rather than his ex calling time on their relationship with a sad, but uncompromising look on his face.

His heart feels too big for his chest. Yes, it’s painful, but Jesus does it also feel glorious. If he lets Mingi slip through his fingers because he’s too much of a coward he will never forgive himself. The thought of never seeing him again is f*cking unbearable. Mingi is worth taking a risk for. Hell, he’s worth risking himself for.

Yunho pushes off of the door. He has half a day to plan the best date of Mingi’s life. He calls in a favour with his college friend Seonghwa, a sought-after model just famous enough to swing a last-minute reservation at an exclusive steak restaurant on the Han river, and texts Mingi the details. He gets a heart emoji in return that makes his own skip a beat.

He is going to woo the ever-loving sh*t out of this man.

After agonising over what to wear for an embarrassingly long time, Yunho settles on a black silk shirt that leaves a nice v-shaped sliver of his chest on display. He’s paired it with a couple of delicate silver chains, tight black trousers and boots. His hair is parted over his forehead in a side split, in what Hongjoong likes to refer to as “k-drama hunk boyfriend hair.”

He waits nervously on the curb outside of the restaurant for the taxi he ordered Mingi to pull up. As soon as the other man steps out, he chokes on air. He’s in a pair of wide black jeans, a midnight blue shirt and a leather jacket. Mingi looks sleek, hot and a little dangerous. He can see the mark left by his teeth last night poking out of his open collar. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to push him against the wall and add to it.

But Yunho’s pretty sure that would get them thrown out of the restaurant, so he swallows down the heat rising from low in his belly and steps forward. It seems Mingi is struggling with similar intrusive thoughts, because he stares with his mouth open. It’s so adorable Yunho can feel a dopey smile stretching his lips.

“Hello, princess,” he says, slightly breathless.

He raises his hand to reveal a bouquet of soft pink roses he’d been hiding behind his leg and Mingi’s eyes go comically wide.

“O-oh,” his beautiful lips curve around the sound, surprised and delighted at the same time. He takes them after a beat with a delicate smile that sends tingles all along Yunho’s chest.

“They’re gorgeous, Yunho.”

Mingi hesitates for a moment before leaning in to peck his cheek. Considering all the other places that mouth has kissed on his body, the pink blush he can feel warming his ears is entirely irrational.

Pleased, he curls his hand around Mingi’s and pulls him inside. The restaurant is fancy, all dim lighting and massive windows overlooking the river. Yunho pulls out a chair for Mingi and the other man seems taken off guard. It’s painfully clear no one has ever done anything like this for him before and it only fuels Yunho’s determination to treat his princess like royalty.

Their waitress smiles sweetly as she puts the roses in a small carafe and makes a few recommendations. Mingi is clearly a little overwhelmed, this place is not cheap, but Yunho confidently helps him order.

When the other man still seems a bit uncomfortable, Yunho takes his hand on top of the table. He starts to talk about his youth, his college years, his hopes and dreams and how the cold reality of big city life had sucked most of those down the drain. He touches on his ex, how it started out nice enough, but became unhealthy the more Yunho tried to fit the mould of fancy Seoul salaryman. He doesn’t get into the meat of it all, it’s not the time or place, but it feels good to talk about it like it’s something that happened in the past and is now over.

Mingi relaxes enough to open up about his own life. He talks about his brother and new nephew, his one semester in college in Seoul and the quick realisation that it wasn’t for him, his love of dancing, his dream of opening up his own bar one day. The last one sparks an idea in Yunho.

“Let’s go somewhere else for dessert, there’s a place I’d love to show you.”

He takes Mingi to a bar he and his ex used to go to in happier times. It specialises in creative co*cktails and spectacularly pretty and tasty desserts. Two drinks each, a delicious panna cotta and ridiculous ice cream sundae later, they are giggling and flushed. Yunho suggests they head out to the roof terrace for some air to sober up a bit.

But as soon as he steps outside he stops dead and fights to keep the contents of his stomach down. Because out on the terrace in a dark little corner is his ex, bent over a table whispering intimately to another man.

Mingi feels him pull up and frowns in confusion, following his horrified gaze across the terrace. He must put two and two together, because his face looks panicked when he turns to look back at Yunho.

He needs to leave before his ex looks up, he needs to say something to Mingi who’s looking more and more distressed by the second. But he’s frozen. This is the first time he’s seen him since that horrible night and he wants to scream, he wants to rage, he wants to turn around and never see him again.

Instead, he watches in slow motion as his ex looks up and they lock eyes. His mouth falls open in shock. It shakes Yunho out of his stupor and he turns on his heels, eyes blurry. He stumbles against the terrace door, blindly trying to push through, but a hand clamps around his elbow.

“Yunho, wait!”

He stiffens, but turns his face slightly towards his ex.

“What do you want Daeseok,” he says, jaw so tight it could pulverise diamonds.

He lets himself be pushed away from the door towards some decorative plants. It’s a laughable excuse of a privacy screen, but Yunho is beyond caring. He briefly makes eye-contact with Mingi, who’s still standing rooted to the spot. He’s watching Yunho with concern, but makes no move towards them.

“Can we not at least be civil, Yunho?”

His eyes flick down to his ex incredulously. Daeseok sighs in exasperation.

“I don’t want things to be awkward every time we run into each other. We were friends once.”

Yunho’s blood boils. The wine at dinner and two dessert co*cktails are rapidly eating away at any shred of decorum he has left.

“You don’t need me to be your friend, you seem plenty friendly with him,” he snaps, jutting his chin towards the man still sitting at the little table in the corner. Daeseok shrinks back at the venom in his voice and Yunho presses his advantage.

“Seems to me like you were celebrating something. What is it, hmmm? Your 100 days? Six-month anniversary?”

His ex lowers his eyes at his last jab and Yunho freezes again. The math isn’t quite mathing. Six months, that’s when he left almost to the day. He huffs out a bitter laugh.

“Oh my f*cking God, you are unbelievable. So what, you went straight from our home to his, is that it?”

Silence.

“Jesus Christ, it’s not enough you just up and left me one day after four years without a proper explanation never to be heard from again, now I have to add cheating to the list?”

Daeseok bristles at that. “I never cheated on you!”

“No,” Yunho sneers, his voice sounds ugly to his own ears. “You gave me the courtesy of waiting a whole two hours before falling into the arms of another man.”

“f*ck you!” Daeseok hisses, and Yunho feels a bright stab of vindication that’s quickly swallowed by the acid pooling in his stomach.

“Don’t stand there and pretend like you hadn’t checked out of the relationship years ago! You just never had the guts to call it.”

Yunho is breathing hard, the edges of his vision darkening as he zones in on Daeseok. Alarm bells are going off in his head screaming at him to keep his voice down, to stop himself from saying something he’ll truly regret. But he’s a bit too drunk and a lot too angry to rein himself in.

“I was going to ask you to marry me that weekend, you selfish f*ck. I bought the ring and had it all planned out, so I guess I really am a f*cking idiot.”

Daeseok’s face is slack with shock. Yunho soars on the high of vicious satisfaction for all of one second, before he comes back to himself. His gaze whips up over his ex’s head and lands on Mingi’s stricken expression a few steps away.

f*ck. Oh, f*ck.

Yunho pushes past a still dazed Daeseok to rush after a fleeing Mingi, giving no f*cks about the disapproving stares in his wake. He finally catches up to the other man as he steps outside to hail a taxi.

“Mingi, wait, hold on! I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

Mingi cuts him off with an ugly snort.

“What are you sorry for, huh?” He twists to face Yunho, eyes wet with tears, but his voice is steady as his words stab him in the chest with lethal precision.

“For lying to me for months? For stringing me along? For making me think that I’m more than just some convenient f*ck when you travel for business?”

“Mingi, no–”

“Four years…” Mingi barrels on. “Why all the boyfriend sh*t, Yunho? You could have just told me you were on the rebound. But I guess some of this is on me, I knew you had your hand on the eject button the whole time. I just wanted to believe that for once I wasn’t disposable.”

The tears spill over and streak down his cheeks. It cleaves Yunho’s heart clean in two to know he’s the one who hurt Mingi, put the raw devastation on his face, the bitterness in his voice.

“That’s not how it is, Mingi. Please, let me explain,” he desperately reaches out to him, but Mingi pulls away as if burned.

“Six months ago, you were going to ask another man to marry you, Yunho. Be honest with me, for once.” He heaves a shaky breath. “Were you going to come back to Gwangju if the business deal fell through?”

His voice is so brittle Yunho can’t bear it. He tries to breathe, but no air is getting into his lungs. He wants to say that nothing could have stopped him from coming back to Mingi, because that’s the truth. But it’s also true that he’d wrestled with this question for a while. Yunho doesn’t want to lie, but he also wants to make it clear that he would do anything for Mingi, that he’s more important to him than the man he was ready to propose to half a year ago ever was. But the panic clawing at his throat makes it impossible to speak for a few moments.

It costs him dearly, because Mingi closes his eyes and nods grimly as if all his biggest fears have been confirmed. Maybe they have. Before Yunho can pull himself together, he rushes into a taxi that’s pulled up and speeds off.

The vice around Yunho’s lungs immediately clamps down with a vengeance, tighter than ever before. He chokes and slumps back against the wall of the bar, black spots clouding his vision as he heaves shallow breaths. He has to move, go after Mingi, he has to tell him the truth, but he can’t move.

It takes a few minutes for the paralysing panic to subside. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He feels like the worst kind of heel, like an utter, utter piece of sh*t.

He let Mingi leave believing he’s less than, and he doesn’t think he can ever forgive himself. How can he expect Mingi to?

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

“Hyung…”

He chokes on a sob.

“Yunho? Is everything okay?”

He squeezes his eyes shut against a wave of nausea and clutches his phone to his ear.

“Where are you?”

“I f*cked up, hyung. I f*cked up so bad–”

His throat seizes up again and Yunho swallows convulsively. The lump stays firmly in place.

“Send me your location, I’m coming to get you.”

Yunho nods, even though Hongjoong can’t see it. With shaky fingers, he turns on his live location. He’s not actually sure where he is exactly. Once his legs started working again, he just walked away from the bar. The last thing he needs is to run into his ex and new boyfriend after blowing up the best thing that has ever happened to him because he’s an idiot and a coward.

He sits down on the curb and waits. He tries to call Mingi again, he’s lost count of how many times, but he doesn’t pick up. Hongjoong finds him slumped over, cradling his phone. He gently coaxes Yunho to stand and puts him in a waiting car. Everything is a blur, like it’s happening to someone else.

If Yunho had thought Daeseok walking out unexpectedly was his rock bottom, he was f*cking mistaken. At least there someone else was to blame. But Mingi has done nothing wrong and yet he’s paying the price for Yunho’s f*ckups. He puts a hand on his chest to check it hasn’t just gone and caved in.

How could he have been so stupid?

Yunho tries calling Mingi again, but when there’s no answer he knows he needs to stop. This isn’t about him and what he needs right now. His hands shake as he passes his phone to Hongjoong for safekeeping.

It’s not until he’s being led to his own couch that Yunho realises Hongjoong’s took him home. He can’t help a hysterical little snort of laughter from escaping at the poetic justice of it all. Now he gets to be tortured by memories of Mingi. Marvellous. It’s no more than he deserves, he supposes.

Hongjoong moves to the kitchen to make tea and Yunho actually has to push his palms into his eyeballs until he sees stars to banish the powerful flashback of Mingi spread out before him on the island, happy and glowing with pleasure. Trusting him implicitly. f*ck.

While he feels a sick sense of satisfaction from flaying himself mentally, it isn’t going to help him get out of the hole he’s dug for himself. More importantly, it isn’t going to help Mingi, who’s undoubtedly beating himself up even though he isn’t to blame in the least.

Hongjoong silently hands him his steaming cup of tea and waits patiently for him to gather his thoughts. There’s not a shred of judgement on his pretty face. Yunho is mortified to feel his bottom lip start to tremble.

“I made him feel like he’s not good enough, hyung,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat.

Of all his crimes tonight, that has to be by far the worst. Yunho knows intimately what that’s like and it’s horrible, especially coming from a person you trust. Hongjoong winces in sympathy, but there’s still no anger or disappointment in his eyes. Yunho doesn’t know whether he’s relieved or annoyed by the lack of punishment.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened and we can go from there?”

Yunho nods and takes a deep breath before unloading everything that’s happened in the past 24 hours. How he’s invited Mingi over, his gift, the way something had shifted between them that night. He glosses over the sex-marathon earlier that day, but Hongjoong’s raised eyebrow indicates Yunho’s flush betrays him. His voice falters when he talks about the date, how perfect it had been and how quickly and sharply they’d come crashing down from that high. Hongjoong sucks in a sharp breath as Yunho recounts running into his ex and the new man.

“f*cking hell,” Hongjoong murmurs. “You were planning to propose?”

It’s Yunho’s turn to wince. He hadn’t told a soul, not his mother and not Hongjoong. That alone should have really opened his eyes to just how big a mistake he was making.

“I knew you didn’t like him.” Hongjoong snorts to indicate that’s an understatement of epic proportions. “I just couldn’t face the idea that after everything I’d given up for us to work, we just didn’t.”

God, with the benefit of hindsight it is all so startlingly clear. Now that he knows what it really feels like to be in love.

“f*ck, I’m in so deep, hyung, and I’ve gone and ruined it all,” Yunho covers his eyes with his hands.

“Well you’ve certainly f*cked up royally,” Hongjoong says and Yunho can’t help but scoff wetly at his familiar bluntness.

“But, honestly, I don’t think you’re ready to give up and I don’t think he’s ready to let go either.”

Yunho’s heart skips a beat as a treacherous kernel of hope blooms despite the odds.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, hyung,” Yunho says tiredly. “I was a f*cking dumbass and a coward.”

“The way I see it, you can either continue to be a dumbass and a coward, or you can do something about it,” Hongjoong says, kind but firm.

Yunho is exhausted once Hongjoong leaves near dawn, but he doesn’t really sleep. He spends hours caught between dreams and wakefulness, chasing eyes crinkled in amusem*nt and husky laughter echoing in his skull. Just as he gets close enough to reach out, there’s nothing but silence. He always comes back to himself, sweaty, out of breath and alone.

Still, the silly little tendril of hope refuses to die.

He goes through the motions of normalcy. Gets up, washes, eats, goes to work, comes home, washes again, eats again, conjures up such vivid images of Mingi he thinks he may be hallucinating. Rinse. Repeat.

Every hour is excruciating. He wrestles with the visceral urge to make things right, to make Mingi understand, because even more than that he wants to respect his boundaries. He only allows himself to send the other man one message a day. Turns out, obsessively staring at a black screen does not, in fact, get you the response you desperately want. Go figure. But Yunho tries to give Mingi space, he really does.

It takes him less than a week to crack like an undercooked egg.

He gets an email from Wonderland to say they’ve decided not to sign the contract. This thing Yunho thought he’d been so afraid of. He doesn’t give a f*ck. It doesn’t change a single f*cking thing. His real fear is never seeing Mingi again.

What the f*ck is he even doing here anymore?

If Mingi tells him to piss off, as he has every right to, he will. But Yunho is done not at least fighting for him with everything he’s got. And maybe also engaging in a humiliating amount of pitiful grovelling, if he’s allowed.

Easier said than done, it turns out.

By noon the next day, he’s in Gwangju with absolutely zero plan and only a vague idea of where Mingi lives. He may be an idiot, but he’s not about to show up at the bar and make a f*cking scene. He’s not that desperate.

He violently quashes the taunting little voice in his head whispering yet. His feelings are his problem, and he’ll cut his own arm off before making Mingi’s life any more difficult than he already has.

Instead, Yunho studies the picture he took of Mingi’s map like it holds the answers to the universe. f*ck, he just wants to work out where on this cursed street the love of his life may live. The little red ‘x’ covers at least two blocks, assuming it’s even actually accurate. The whole area is littered with apartment buildings.

Nothing for it. Yunho starts to run down the door bells on the first one. Most have names, some do not. His heart is in his throat and he can feel tears prickling behind his eyes, but he pushes them down. He has to focus. Maybe he’ll get lucky.

Two hours later, Yunho is hot, frustrated, thirsty and his feet hurt. He dips into a little convenience store to stave off dehydration. Just as he’s grabbing a cup of ice, he hears a familiar voice. He turns slowly and sees Wooyoung talking to the cashier. His knees nearly give out, but he forces them to work and stumbles towards the shorter man.

“Wooyoung! Please wait–”

He turns around, but the easy smile vanishes the instant he spots Yunho.

“What the f*ck are you doing here?”

Yunho’s out of breath for no reason, sweat plastering his dark hair to his forehead.

“How is Mingi? Is he okay?”

Wooyoung looks at him incredulously. “f*ck no, you don’t get to–” he sucks in a sharp breath and tries to push past him.

“Please, Wooyoung,” Yunho’s voice cracks as he reaches for the other man. He knows he sounds pitiful but he has no f*cks to give.

“Go home, Yunho.”

“There’s nothing for me there. Everything I want is here.”

Yunho doesn’t know why, but that puts a crack in his icy exterior. Wooyoung bites his lip and sighs, eyeing him up and down.

“You look like sh*t.”

“Don’t worry, I feel a million times worse.”

“I should f*cking well hope so,” Wooyoung scoffs, crossing his arms. “You broke his heart, Yunho.”

Yunho imagines being stabbed in the eye would be less painful.

“I will never stop trying to make up for that, if he’ll let me,” Yunho says, voice shakier than he’d like.

He clears his throat and forces his eyes to meet Wooyoung’s inscrutable ones. “If he wants me to leave I will, promise,” he raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“I just– I don’t want him to think that he’s not good enough,” he swallows around the lump in his throat. “It’s me, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve him. But I want to, so badly.”

Wooyoung’s intense gaze stays locked on his pleading one for another beat, before he turns abruptly and viciously kicks the bin outside the shop. Yunho jumps.

“Fuuuuuckkkk,” Wooyoung hisses, raking a hand through his hair.

He rounds on Yunho and jams a finger in his face. “If you hurt him again, I will personally skin you alive with a dull knife and feed you to the pigeons, do you hear?”

Yunho stops breathing.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wooyoung grounds out, before heaving a big breath. “I’m not doing this for you.”

Yunho slams his mouth closed and nods. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“I am trusting you here,” Wooyoung sighs and motions for him to follow.

It’s the longest 5-minute walk of Yunho’s sorry f*cking life. He catches his reflection in the in the elevator mirror and cringes. He looks like he hasn’t slept and has been left out in the desert for a few days.

“Wait here,” Wooyoung says and slips into a non-descript door.

Yunho blinks at it. Mingi is on the other side. It’s like his dreams, he’s so close but he may touch nothing but air if he reaches out. He leans back against the opposite wall, not quite trusting himself not to bust inside despite his honourable intentions. He jolts when it opens again.

“Here’s the deal, he’s not quite ready to see you,” Wooyoung says in a rush and Yunho feels like he’s going to barf up his stomach and lungs. Panic starts rushing in, but the other man is still speaking and he forces every atom of his being to focus on his next words.

“But, you can come in and talk through the bedroom door.”

A stab of pure adrenaline rockets from Yunho’s toes to his ears and back down. He’s only fainted once during PE from dehydration, but this is the closest he’s ever come to a repeat performance. Yunho heaves a couple of big, gulping breaths and nods, unable to speak if his life depended on it.

Yunho shuffles inside and is immediately hit with a powerful wave of pure Mingi. The flat is small and cosy, decorated in greens and yellows, with books, magazines, games, plants and LPs stuffed on overflowing shelves, and there’s several pairs of glasses scattered around, along with a forgotten cup of coffee. Yunho fills his nostrils with Mingi’s familiar scent. He may never get another chance.

There’s a closed door at the end of a small hallway. He leans his hand against it, then his forehead, and lets out a shaky breath. While he desperately wants to see Mingi’s face, he understands his need for this bit of distance. It may be easier to get out everything he needs to say this way too, if he’s perfectly honest.

“Mingi-ya, he’s here,” Wooyoung says softly behind him. “I’ll just be in the lounge if you need me.”

Yunho slides down with his back against the door. They sit in silence for a few minutes.

“Hey princess,” he says eventually, leaning against the cool wood.

There’s no reply but he hears a gentle rustling, like Mingi’s settling into a more comfortable position on the other side. Yunho closes his eyes and imagines the other man sitting the same way, backs only separated by a flimsy layer of wood.

“You may not want to talk back to me, but I would like to tell you a few things, if that’s okay?” he waits for a beat. “You don’t have to say anything, but if you want me to stop or leave, just knock yeah?”

He’s met with eerie silence. Now that he’s here, Yunho is struggling to keep his thoughts in order. But first things first.

“I’m so sorry, Mingi.”

The shame that’s been permanently wrapped around his throat threatens to cut him off before he’s even properly started. But he soldiers on.

“I was an asshole, selfish and stupid. I hurt you and I couldn’t get my sh*t together that night, so I let you leave thinking you were nothing but a meaningless hookup to me.”

The look of raw betrayal in Mingi’s eyes still makes him shudder now. He’s not proud of the way he behaved then, but he’d been unfair to the other man for much longer than that. And he deserves his honesty now.

“Believe me, I tried to convince myself of that in the beginning, but… “ the back of his head thunks against the door. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Mingi.”

He knows it’s cheesy, but it’s the f*cking truth.

“Before I met you, I was okay with marrying someone who I knew didn’t love me, not really,” he pauses as that sinks in for himself. “Jesus, that’s so f*cked up,” Yunho shakes his head.

“I never fought for good things for myself until I met you. And now, I wake up every day a better person just for having known you. I want you to know that. You did that. You still do.”

Yunho shifts to press his cheek against the rough grain of the door.

“f*ck Mingi, the very last thing on earth you are is disposable,” he says fiercely. “I can’t stand that you’d think that even for a second.”

“You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel that every day. Even if it’s not…” he trails off as two tears finally spill over, but he forces himself to continue. “Even if that person isn’t me.”

He takes a deep breath, he’s in the home straight now.

“I couldn’t get the words out, but I want you to know that I would have always come back to you. I’m a f*cking idiot, but I can’t not want to be with you, Mingi. I understand if it’s too little too late, but you should know I–”

Yunho cuts off with a yelp as the door is yanked away from his face and he’s left scrambling for balance. Not least because Mingi’s face takes up his entire field of vision. It’s puffy, red, tired and snotty and so, so infinitely beloved.

Yunho fights for breath, shuffling forward on his knees to cup his cheekbones gently. Still unsure of whether it’s okay.

“Finish what you were going to say,” Mingi’s voice is hoarse and urgent. It’s the most beautiful thing Yunho’s ever heard. “Please.”

The lump in Yunho’s throat grows, but he’ll be damned if he chokes in front of this man again. He swallows and licks his lips.

“I love you, Mingi. I very much want to be yours, if you’ll have me.”

The other man makes a noise at the back of his throat, somewhere between a sob and a sigh. Yunho has no time to overthink what it means, because Mingi is crashing their lips together in the next breath. It’s wet and salty and uncoordinated and so utterly perfect it leaves Yunho dizzy.

He pulls away, reluctantly, to get some oxygen and reaches up a hand to touch Mingi’s newly dyed black hair.

“You changed it,” he says in wonder.

“Oh, yeah,” Mingi ducks his head adorably. “I uh, went full emo for a minute there.”

Yunho’s sure he doesn’t mean to, but it makes his guts clench with guilt. He still can’t quite believe Mingi is giving him the chance to make up for his failures, to grow into a better person. Worthy, or some equally Shakespearian sh*t.

“I like it,” Yunho says. He can’t help but return Mingi’s bashful smile.

It does suit Mingi. The harshness of the black actually makes his face look softer and highlights the red of his kiss-bruised lips all the more.

“So,” Yunho breathes, eyes glued to Mingi’s mouth. “That’s a yes?”

Those lips stretch into one of his dazzling, gummy smiles and Yunho’s struggling for breath for a reason other than panic for the first time in a week.

“Yes,” Mingi closes the distance between them. “You may be a f*cking idiot, but you’re my f*cking idiot.”

Yunho’s knees are surely bruised, there’s snot drying on his face and his lower back is spasming from being twisted in a cramped position for much too long. He has never been happier in his entire life.

A few minutes later, Wooyoung shuffles into the hallway with a hand over his eyes.

“Are you guys decent?” he squeaks.

Mingi rolls his eyes and wipes a hand across his face. “Yes, Youngie, Jesus.”

Wooyoung uncovers his eyes and pins Mingi with an unimpressed look. “From what you’ve told me, that’s unusual for you two.”

Mingi blushes the prettiest pink and it makes Yunho bite his knuckles it’s so cute.

“And you,” the shorter man turns his narrowed eyes on Yunho, who promptly gulps. “You’re still on probation.”

He nods solemnly, which seems to mollify Wooyoung. “Now, I don’t know about you, but love confessions always make me hungry.”

They end up squeezed around Mingi’s tiny dining room table sharing a box of fried chicken. Yunho’s surprised there’s any space for his stomach, his heart is so big. They talk about silly stuff to diffuse some of the lingering adrenaline. So Yunho wants to bask in the moment for a bit before facing his nemeses, Facts and Questions.

But as it grows dark, it becomes painfully clear that Yunho came unprepared. He rushed down to Gwangju without so much as packing a toothbrush.

“I wasn’t exactly thinking beyond trying to find you and hope you wouldn’t slam the door in my face,” he confesses, biting his lip.

Mingi takes his hand and laces their fingers together. “What time is your train back?”

“Ah um,” Yunho flushes. “I booked a one-way ticket.”

His boyfriend, Yunho supresses an entirely unbecoming squeal at the thought, starts and gapes at him.

“I wasn’t going to leave unless you told me to,” Yunho says softly.

Mingi looks at him in wonder and brushes a hand over his cheek. Wooyoung makes a loud gagging sound, breaking the spell.

“Yeah, but aren’t they expecting you at the office tomorrow, loverboy?” the younger man says, chuffed at interrupting the impending PDA.

“I called in sick at work, I can stretch it a couple of days,” Yunho shrugs. “Not much point in me going back there anyway, Wonderland said no.”

Mingi winces. They hadn’t sorted out any of the big stuff yet and the fate of his business trips to Gwangju is obviously still a bit of a sore subject. Yunho squeezes his hand.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll be travelling to Gwangju to see my boyfriend, not beat Yeosang at ping pong,” he says.

And Yunho knows he’d be sent straight to jail, but the cute flush creeping up Mingi’s chest at his words makes him want to bend the other man over the table, Wooyoung and chicken dinner be damned.

But he’s startled from that little fantasy by Wooyoung jerking like he’s been shocked.

“Yeosang?” he blinks “Kang Yeosang? Ethereal face, tech whizz, can’t follow directions to save his life?”

It’s Yunho’s turn to stare at him owlishly. “Errr yeah, I–that sounds right. Do you know him?

“Know him? We used to take baths together!”

Both Mingi and Yunho stare at him.

“Oh ew, no, when we were kids, you perverts,” Wooyoung adds quickly. “Our mums are close, we’ve been friends for two decades.”

Huh, small f*cking world hey. Yunho cracks a smile. “I’ve gotten to know him a bit over the past few months. I met Mingi the day I had my first meeting with Yeosang up here.”

“Yeosang was Cupid for you two? Oh, he’ll looooove that!” Wooyoung cackles, before making little kissy noises at them.

Yunho helps Mingi clear up the table and do the dishes after Wooyoung leaves, not without throwing Yunho one last menacing look that could melt stone. They’re quiet, bumping each other’s’ shoulder and smiling so wide their faces might split.

But underneath the giddy joy, there’s still a layer of anxiety. Yunho knows they have a lot to talk about. And it will take time for Mingi to trust him fully again. But that’s okay, Yunho looks forward to proving to Mingi that this is it for him.

If someone had told him six months ago that he was ready to drop his life, his job, his flat in Seoul to move to Gwangju with no real plan to be with a bartender, he’d have declared them nuts. But here he is, feeling lighter than he has in years. They would talk about all the practicalities, the logistics, the future. But right now, right now he needs to know that this is real.

Yunho takes Mingi’s hand and kisses the back of it, then trails his lips over each knuckle.

“My princess,” he whispers against the skin. “I missed you.”

Mingi laughs softly. “I missed you too.”

Yunho steps in to cup his jaw, fingers moving to trail through the hairs behind his ear down to his nape. Mingi closes his eyes with a content little hum, low in his throat.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Yunho whispers.

Mingi’s eyes flutter open. His hand reaches up to wrap around Yunho’s wrist. “You’re here now,” he says, equally as soft.

Their kiss is gentle and Yunho revels in it. So much of their relationship has been hunger and need and want. All great things his life had been sorely lacking before. But there’s something about a kiss being almost like a warm hug. Quiet and domestic.

Mingi takes his hand and leads him past the door he’d poured his heart out to earlier that day. His bedroom is small and the furniture’s seen better days, but it feels right.

They get ready for bed, taking turns washing their faces in the small bathroom sink and brushing their teeth side by side, grinning like idiots. It’s too hot mid-summer to sleep in anything but their underwear, but Yunho still wraps himself around Mingi’s back and burrows his face in the black hair at the back of his neck. He falls asleep in seconds.

Yunho wakes a few hours later to a hand darting up his chest hesitantly. He blinks into the dimness of the room until he can see the outline of the body next to him more clearly.

“Yunho?” Mingi’s voice sounds confused, still laced with sleep.

He covers the hand on his chest with his own, right over his heart. “I’m here, baby.”

The sigh of relief in response makes everything in his chest clench painfully. Yunho pulls Mingi close, peppering soft kisses over his temple, his cheekbone across his forehead and down his nose. The other man captures his lips with his own in a deep and searing kiss, as if to make sure he wouldn’t vanish into thin air.

Yunho tilts his head to allow him all the access he wants. He’s utterly powerless to deny this man anything ever again. Mingi’s free hand snakes lower underneath his boxers to cup a cheek and pull their hips flush. He can’t suppress a groan, Mingi’s already standing at attention fully and he can feel his own co*ck respond enthusiastically. They rut together for a few minutes, hot and sweaty, panting into each other’s mouths.

Mingi swings a thigh over Yunho’s and twists him onto his back. He settles over him, straddling his hips. He throws his head back as he grinds down, creating delicious friction. It’s too inviting for Yunho to pass up. He pushes up on his elbows and latches onto his collar bones, licking and kissing his way up his neck. Both Mingi’s noises and thrusts get increasingly desperate and he buckles through his elbows to present Yunho with even more honeyed skin to work with.

His hands trail down Mingi’s back to the dimples just above that ridiculous ass. His fingers tease underneath his waistband to knead the flesh in tandem with the swivels of his hips. Yunho lets out a filthy moan. He’s not going to last if this carries on and he’d rather not come in his pants like a teenage boy. Mingi must feel the same way because he pushes up with a hand on Yunho’s chest.

He leans over to switch on one of the bedside lamps and rummage around in the drawer. Yunho’s breath catches at the sight of Mingi flushed prettily, eyes half-lidded and mouth slack hovering over him. He brings up a hand to caress along Mingi’s plump bottom lip and gasps when the other man closes his mouth around the digits.

f*ck, he needs to focus on not shooting his load right then and there. Yunho heaves in a deep breath through his nose and Mingi mercifully finds the bottle of lube he’d been digging for.

Mingi briefly untangles them to hastily shove their underwear off, before settling his bare ass over his crotch. His co*ck skids along the cleft of his cheeks, ripping a guttural sound out of Yunho’s chest. God, this man would be the death of him in the best possible way.

If Yunho thought he’d been in trouble before, he is plunged in deeper sh*t when Mingi sits up on his knees and reaches behind himself. Yunho watches entranced as his mouth slips open on a silent moan. He’s prepping himself. He is prepping himself, hovering over Yunho’s painfully hard dick and he is going to f*cking die.

His hips buck up in the air, looking in vain for any sort of friction. Yunho can’t see what’s happening, but somehow that makes it all the more hot. The way his arm muscles flex to push his own fingers in and out, the hitches in his breath, the sweat starting to cover his flushed chest.

All Yunho can do is dig his fingers into the thighs bracketing his hips in an effort to hold still. His grip is hard enough to bruise and a visceral wave of arousal stabs him low in the gut at the idea of leaving marks on Mingi. His Mingi.

He hisses as a slick hand spreads lube on his dick and positions his flared tip to nudge at Mingi’s entrance. Their eyes lock as the other man starts sinking down, greedily swallowing every bit of his shaft. It’s so hot and so tight.

“Oh f*ck, princess,” his voice sounds strangled as he’s finally buried to the hilt.

Mingi cants his hips experimentally and the drag along his inner walls is everything. He pulls up one corner of his mouth and does it again, bracing his hands on Yunho’s ribcage for leverage.

Yunho plants his heels on the mattress and bends his knees to give him more support as Mingi slowly picks up the pace. He is only too happy to let the other man call the shots, setting the rhythm and the angle. Mingi moves up and down with a swivel of his hips and lets out that same little reedy Oooooh Yunho heard their first night together.

“Yeah? ‘S good?”

Mingi nods. “So good,” his brow furrows in concentration. “sh*t! Yes, right there!”

Yunho moves his hands up to his hips to help him bounce faster. Mingi moves to lean back on Yunho’s raised knees, pushing himself up against them, back arching to maintain the right angle.

Mingi wraps a hand around his own leaking erection and strokes himself hard and fast, while f*cking himself back onto Yunho’s dick. His breaths are getting shorter and more desperate.

“Don’t stop, please love, don’t stop,” he moans urgently.

“Never,” Yunho grits out. “You’re mine.”

Mingi’s face contorts in pleasure as he bites his bottom lip hard. Yunho feels him clenching down on him and then he’s coming all over Yunho’s chest, hips rocking back weakly despite the shaking in his thighs.

He slumps forward onto Yunho’s chest, face buried in his neck trying to catch his breath. Less than a minute later, he’s wriggling his hips, creating delicious friction for Yunho’s co*ck, still fully sheathed.

“You okay?”

Mingi nods into his collar bone and wiggles again. Yunho groans and uses his hands to lift Mingi’s hips a bit. The space allows him to f*ck up into the tight, wet heat of his ass and it doesn’t take long for his thrusts to turn erratic.

His boyfriend has pushed back up on his elbows and is nipping a searing path along his jaw to his ear. Yunho’s vision swims.

“Princess, I’m going to–can I come inside?”

His thoughts are all scrambled, but he punches the words out in a rush. They’ve never done this without a condom and he doesn’t want to do anything that could upset the new equilibrium they’d found. But f*ck, he is desperate to claim Mingi this way.

Mingi raises up to look at his face, eyes glassy and f*cked out. He nods, rubbing their noses together.

“Please, love,” he whispers.

Yunho is arching up before he’s even finished speaking, climaxing on a long, choked moan that ends in something that sounds suspiciously like a sob. His abs quiver as he can’t stop his hips from twitching up, seeking to extend his high as long as possible.

He can feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and his breaths hitch dangerously. Mingi’s weight on his chest is comforting as are the fingers tracing lazy, soothing patterns on his shoulder. Yunho focuses on taking a few steady breaths, before turning his head to look at his lover. Mingi’s eyes twinkle in the low light. He reaches up a finger to wipe away the wetness in Yunho’s eyes. He turns his face to kiss it.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Mingi whispers back.

In a minute, they’ll have to get up to deal with the mess they’ve made. Tomorrow, they’ll have to deal with the wider mess of their lives. But right now, Yunho just lets himself sink into Mingi’s embrace, where he belongs.