Chapter Text
Minghao knows why he's being punished and it's only fair. He chases the thrill, after all. Dominant or submissive, Minghao is a whole personality in the bedroom, just like he is about anywhere else. He draws things out, makes himself difficult even when submitting; what will you do to me if I don't?
It's a whole game in and of itself, always walking the line between compliance and defiance, and Mingyu and Wonwoo love it. They really do. And Minghao enjoys punishment just as much, if not more than anything else. He's the opposite of Mingyu's mild mannered, praise craving, pliant submission. Mingyu is nothing if not a good boy . Minghao likes that too, but it just feels better when it's precious, special, scantily gifted praise. Like you're a bratty bitch but when you obey me I swear I could build a shrine inside you kind of praise.
But, yeah, he fucked up. Whatever.
Well, not whatever because damn it he feels like a failure and he's always been so good at walking the line but this time maybe he got a bit ahead of himself and he didn't mean to. He was just so fucking blissed and he forgot he even had a physical body. He was naughty. He was bad. And the notion of punishment when it rings inside his skull is like a stairway to another heavenly pit of hell, as in he doesn't think he can make it but, fuck, if he can, he can't even imagine what that’s going to feel like. Except it turns out it feels not like a stairway but like a freefall, like being pushed off a cliff. And, well, yeah, the landing hurts a little.
It's not the first time Wonwoo punishes him like this. It's efficient because Minghao thrives off this dynamic, thrives off the punishment and off the attention, off the push and pull, off the praise and degradation. So, when Minghao pushes it too far, Wonwoo goes for his ultimate weakness: indifference. That really does the trick.
Minghao's left aside to observe, a witness to his lovers' love affair. To touch and be touched becomes forbidden and they don't talk to him, don't listen to him. Mingyu, under Wonwoo's orders, follows along, and Minghao's stomach twists in shame and pleasure and want want want please . It's the worst and the best. It kills him to watch, to be ignored and abandoned, thrown to the side like he just disappeared in a magic trick while Mingyu and Wonwoo chase heaven in one another.
Minghao never watches like in those moments. Usually Minghao wants and gets, but wanting what you can't get, wanting something more than anything else, something right before your very eyes, and being forbidden from getting even the tiniest portion of it is crushing yet it makes his hunger grow infinitely. Even one look, one word, one touch could undo him. But he gets nothing. And he never gives it to himself. That’s not what he wants; his own hands would be more punishment to him. So he holds out.
Mingyu's raw whines, Wonwoo's slick with sweat chest, Mingyu's hardness against his stomach, Wonwoo's dark eyes that bore into golden skin, Mingyu's teeth buried in swollen lips, Wonwoo's groans that dampen the curve of Mingyu's neck; all of it breaks Minghao faster than any strike. Please. I want you too, please. Touch me. He doesn't say it though, afraid the punishment will last longer if he begs. So he keeps quiet, living only through his sight, and waits.
Until he doesn't. Until he can't anymore and the cries and apologies just fall from his lips like air that's been sitting in his lungs for too long and Wonwoo, knowing he has him in the palm of his hand, gives him one long look. Are you going to be a good boy now? Can you behave yourself? And when Minghao nods eagerly, sometimes choking back tears, Wonwoo takes him in his arms and gives him everything.
And there's nothing, nothing like it. Minghao loses his vocabulary, forgets his name, forgets all but Wonwoo Mingyu Wonwoo Mingyu Wonwoo Mingyu . And when they're done, Minghao wonders how it's even possible to feel such ecstasy.
*
Except, this time, it's a bit different. Wonwoo even warns him.
"I won't let it go this time. You need to learn. You're a bratty bitch and I won't have it anymore," Wonwoo scolds him, eyes cold as he points to the corner of the room and Minghao gets to his feet. "The punishment will fit the deed, Hao," he adds and Minghao almost flinches at the name. Wonwoo calling his name during a scene is rare. It's a bad omen.
It is, indeed. It lasts three days.
That first day, Mingyu and Wonwoo finish without him. Minghao holds back as much as he can, as usual, until he can't. Until he's red all over and he pleads and whines but this time the look never comes. Mingyu and Wonwoo take it to the shower, closing the door behind them and, when they come out, Minghao is pissed and butthurt and his dick aches so he storms inside the bathroom without sparing them one look.
When he comes out, Mingyu, Wonwoo and Joshua are having lunch in the living room. Turning to Minghao with a grin, Mingyu pats the space next to him on the couch, but Minghao just stands there with a deep frown and a pout. Mingyu only laughs, a concealed sort of cackle, eyes glinting with mischief: “cute!” And Minghao's too soft, too craving, too in love; the scene is obviously over, and release can come another day, and he kind of deserved it, and maybe it will be just that much better when the punishment ends, so he gives in with a huff and throws himself into Mingyu's arms contentedly. Wonwoo reaches across to pat his knee, still immersed in conversation, and some of the tension in his muscles melts into the touch.
So, the punishment doesn't carry outside their play. Wonwoo and Mingyu act like nothing happened. They get through their afternoon schedules smoothly, with the usual looks, the usual touches. By the end of the day, Minghao has almost forgotten what happened.
However, right before bed, when Mingyu and Wonwoo have each other right against the door, not even making it to Mingyu’s bed, Minghao understands that punishment has carried. He stands a few feet behind them, leaning on the corner after his touch and words go ignored. The want and hurt makes him quiver all over, and he thinks maybe Wowoo’s dragging it on to make a point but he will give in soon, until their bodies move faster, with more heat; as Wonwoo gets more aggressive and Mingyu more boneless, as they lose themselves in one another, Minghao starts quivering from a bit deeper within, and his right hand warms him, attempts to get him off like he’ll regain his composure after release, but it does nothing. He quakes nevertheless as the sound of skin against skin subsides.
“Color.”
He quakes even more when he thinks how good it will feel, to be pressed between them again, to be demanded and belittled but whole and loved loved loved. He’s being good. He’s being so patient and Wonwoo will be so good to him when this finally—
“Color.” Not even a look. Just Wonwoo’s even, distant voice.
Ah.
“Green.”
His voice doesn’t quiver, unlike the rest of him. It’s a good thing they don't look at him when he says it, don't see the way his eyes gaze into the distance and his hand clenches into a fist, pulling at the hair at the back of his head. He can keep going. It will probably end soon and when it does it will be unlike nothing ever before and Minghao can take it. He’s a good boy. He’s really really a good boy. He can’t not take it. And this will be over soon because they want him. He knows they want him like he wants them. They do. They won’t be able to hold back much longer. The thought doesn’t leave him even as he falls asleep, deep in the night, with Wonwoo’s arm around his waist. He dreams of Mingyu and Wonwoo walking hand-in-hand among clouds and cherry blossoms, stars in their eyes and laughter like candy floss. Minghao’s not there, not anywhere.
*
The second day, Minghao is very much done with their shit. It’s not fair. They’re fucking again, when he wakes up, laughing and beautiful and loud and relentless and very much like the near crushing dream he just had, and Minghao is just pissed at this point. This is too much. Minghao can’t have been that bad, right? Was he that terrible? Was he that disposable?
Before he can think better of it, Minghao strides across the room, making for the door, but Wonwoo is standing in front of him a second later, and the withering look he gives him has Minghao curling in on himself.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He fucked up.
Minghao spirals downwards in his mind until a sudden burn on his cheek brings him back. His crotch throbs only faintly at it and his head turns abruptly in a way that leaves him momentarily disoriented. The sound, however, echoes for a moment before Wonwoo speaks, words heavy with anger and disappointment.
“Can’t you even take this much, really?” Wonwoo asks, almost screaming in his face, and Minghao steps back on shaky legs, a hand cradling his left cheek. “I was about to let your unworthy ass be of some use but you give me no choice, Minghao.” Ouch. Okay.
No.
No, that can’t have been true. Was he really just about to be forgiven? Did they want him again? How can he be so stupid? Why must he always ruin everything?
Fuck.
“No...No, Sir, I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Please, please! I want you.” Minghao glances back at Mingyu, who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, completely bare and still panting. “I can’t take it. I need you. I need you both. Please.” Minghao hurts more inside his chest than on his cheek or between his legs and his knees give in under Wonwoo’s stone cold eyes. He crumbles to the floor, trying to grab at Wonwoo’s feet, but the latter steps away as if repulsed, as if touched by some dirty creature, and wanders back to Mingyu, to their bed, to their love making.
"Where were we, puppy?"
And they're at it again, the sounds they make in harmony virbrating through Minghao's bones and he feels his heart break, feels himself losing his grip. He almost says it then.
Red. Red. Red. Red. Red. Stop. Please. I’m sorry. Red. Please. Love me. I’m sorry. I’m bad. I’m bad. I’m bad. Unworthy. Stupid. Red.
But nothing comes out of his mouth. Nothing. He’s scared. What if…What if Wonwoo doesn’t want him anymore? Mingyu doesn’t want him anymore? They don’t want him anymore because Minghao’s bad, bratty, misbehaved, too complicated, too much to deal with, but they’re giving him a chance. He can be worthy. He just needs to hold on. Hold on.
So he goes back to the corner but this time he can’t watch. He looks straight through them, barely hears Wonwoo’s growling voice and Mingyu’s whimpers at a distance, as if a thick veil has been thrown over him. It’s heavy, and he kind of feels like there’s no more depth beneath him to sink into anymore, so the weight just makes him shrink.
When Mingyu and Wonwoo go back to acknowledging his presence outside their bedroom, it almost takes him aback, but it grounds him a little. He’s not too sure how, but at least it’s nice. It’s nice to be looked at; it’s nice to be spoken to, and he takes it in stride though the veil still weighs him and everything feels far away and his head is fuzzy. He spots Mingyu and Wonwoo leaving for a “bathroom break” during a video recording near evening and he wonders distantly if they’ll think of him at all, if they’ll miss him. He misses them so much it’s killing him. It hurts. But he’s being good. He’s being good. He’s becoming good and they’ll love him more, so it’s okay to hurt for now.
He sleeps alone in his bed that night. He won’t be caught craving and wanting and pathetic and unlovable again. Not today. Maybe tomorrow.
There’s no Mingyu and no Wonwoo in his dreams this time. This time, it’s just him and falling in the darkness. Unworthy. That’s what the voice says.
*
“Hey,” Seungcheol greets without an ounce of cheer when Minghao enters the kitchen the next morning. Minghao only nods in his direction. “Wonwoo asked me to send you to Mingyu’s room if I saw you.” As he says this, the leader pushes his shoulders gently from behind, ushering him away, and Minghao complies even when his whole chest freezes at the words.
“Alright. I can get there on my own, thank you very much.”
He doesn’t knock before walking in, though he almost feels the urge to even though he never has done so before. Why does he suddenly feel like he’s intruding? He walks to the same spot in the corner of the room, the one from yesterday and the day before that.
They’re completely immersed in each other. It hurts like a fist around his heart, that Wonwoo called him here again just to be invisible, to look at them be happy without him, again. Minghao doesn’t know if they heard him come in; they wouldn’t let him know if they did. Mingyu is deep between Wonwoo’s legs as the latter showers him with praise. So good, puppy. You take me so well. You’re the best, baby. Keep going.
Minghao’s heart breaks at the words. All he can remember is Wonwoo’s unworthy. Wonwoo slipping away from his touch. Mingyu and Wonwoo without him, again and again and again. He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this, wonders if they even love him if they can go without him for so long, concludes maybe they don’t anymore, maybe he was never worth all the fuss and this is why they’re content to throw him aside.
It feels like forever has passed before Wonwoo looks at him. Minghao’s quivering again but he tries to hold himself together and steady before Wonwoo’s eyes. Mingyu still hasn’t seen him, has his back turned towards him. Minghao’s hunger now is wholly different from what he's used to. Their bodies don’t pull like magnets at his lust but at his soul, and Minghao feels seconds away from unraveling. Wonwoo’s looking at him . Wonwoo’s looking at him?
“Come here, baby.”
The words echo and bounce, too light and too heavy. Mingyu looks up. Minghao swears his eyes are made of constellations; how can they shine so bright?
Come here. Baby. Does Wonwoo mean that? Is it a trick? Will they turn away again if he gets closer? His eyes tear up at the thought. He can’t take another pull away from his touch.
“You’ve been so patient, love.” Mingyu nods eagerly along. “Babe,” he whines, demanding, and Wonwoo chuckles. Patient, love.
They’re right there and he can be with them. He’s allowed. He’s patient . He’s baby . He’s love .
He—he—he can’t make it because he crumbles down before he can reach them, knees hitting the floor with a thud. Silence hangs in the room for a few dreadful seconds while Minghao tries and fails to keep himself together. He loses all composure when the first cry breaks out of him like an earthquake, as though it wants to shatter his insides. And it does. His whole body aches with it; he’s ceramic, crashing on hardwood and breaking in an explosion, and his cries spill messily into every hidden corner of their home.
*
Wonwoo doesn’t understand what’s happening, cannot process it through his reeling mind. Minghao was okay. He was okay, right? He’d said green and then he’d been a brat and then he’d slept away, and here they are. When had it all gone wrong? Minghao was just standing there, looking eager and adorable, and a bit lost. But that’s normal, right? So why is Minghao on the floor, crying inconsolably?
Wonwoo remains frozen, unable to move or look away. He knows Mingyu says “red” out of caution more than anything, but he can’t spare it a thought because Minghao is breaking down in front of him, really breaking down, not horny crying or bliss filled panting but breaking down, and it feels like he’s just been stabbed right in his chest and this is not it. This was not the reaction he was hoping for or anything near what he thought he’d get and the last two days now feel like they’ve been turned upside down because what the fuck. How the fuck did you miss this, Wonwoo?
Mingyu, unlike himself, moves fast. He picks Minghao up from where his upper body has melted onto the cold floor and holds him close, but it seems Minghao only cries harder because of it, as if Mingyu is helping him squeeze all the distress right out of his frail body. Minghao looks like a child, red faced with snot and tears all over, eyes squeezed shut, lips pulled down at the corners, body shaken with terrible tremors, and the sounds he makes keep tearing at Wonwoo’s heartstrings. Mingyu doesn’t look much better than Wonwoo feels; he visibly swallows back tears while he presses Minghao’s head against his chest and his own mouth to the top of Minghao’s messy black locks, probably trying to kiss it all better, but it doesn’t seem to be working. It doesn’t seem Minghao even registers the touch.
Wonwoo is just about to move, forcing his muscles to do something, to react, to get to his lover, but before he can manage it, Mingyu has gathered Minghao in his arms to carry him to their sheets. As they get closer, Wonwoo almost feels like shrinking, like giving them all the space because, suddenly, he doesn’t feel he deserves this, any of this. The nagging feeling makes itself known, wraps itself around his chest and lungs when Minghao finally speaks.
“I’m sorry,” he manages in between hiccups. “I’m sorry I’m bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Please.” Minghao speaks desperately, fingers digging into the flesh of Mingyu’s back, but his words get lost, distorted in his hysterics. Wonwoo doesn’t need to understand more words to understand their current predicament.
Mingyu keeps stealing glances at Wonwoo while he talks to Minghao and reassures him quietly. It’s like he’s urging Wonwoo to do something, to fix this mess, but Wonwoo still feels like he shouldn’t be here.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, baby,” Mingyu shushes him over and over. “You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s over, love. Please, come back to us,” he pleads mildly. Come back . That’s right. Mingyu’s right; Minghao’s far gone. Minghao had been so high before Wonwoo dropped him, for days now. It must’ve been crushing.
Wonwoo failed him. Minghao trusts him wholeheartedly and Wonwoo fooled himself into trusting himself too, but he shouldn’t have. He crossed the most fragile line without even an inkling of it, pushed Minghao more than he could handle, beyond anything he was prepared for, and he doesn’t know how to fix this now. He needs to do something, needs to make it all better but he’s at a loss with the way Minghao seems to have slipped between his fingers.
From the door, a knock startles Wonwoo and Mingyu before Seungcheol’s voice rings from the other side.
“Guys, I really don’t want to interrupt anything, but is he okay? He kind of sounds like he’s dying.”
Mingyu and Wonwoo look at each other, wordless, before Wonwoo decides to make himself useful. He walks to the door, eyes lingering on Minghao’s still crying and mumbling form, and opens the door to peek around it, because he’s still completely naked. He braces his arm on the frame for support.
Seungcheol’s eyes meet his a bit desperate, a frown that he tries to hide too deep in his features. It seems even he can tell the difference between this and the sounds that usually leave this bedroom. Wonwoo isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say.
“So?” Seungcheol prompts him.
“We’re taking care of it,” Wonwoo says, trying to sound reassuring but his voice quivers and it’s the first words he’s said since Minghao broke down, which allows his emotions to physically rise to his head and push tears that he holds at bay for now.
Seungcheol observes, eyes scanning him, before he speaks again. “That’s not what I asked, Wonwoo.” It’s almost angry, if the clipped edge of his voice is anything to go by. “Is he okay?”
As if on cue, Minghao breaks into a particularly loud wail that Mingyu shushes with evident desperation, and Wonwoo feels the urge to just leave Seungcheol standing there to go wrap himself around his crying lover.
“He’s not,” he admits, feet and throat itching unbearably. “I fucked up, hyung, and I really need to go fix this.” Seungcheol seems even more worried now as he forgets to hide the shock and lets it all show, front teeth burrowing aggressively into his bottom lip and forehead creased with tension. None of them have ever heard or seen Minghao in this state.
“You know, if I didn’t trust you with my life, I’d be barreling through this door to take him away right about now, so you better fix this, Jeon Wonwoo,” Seungcheol states, reaching to close the door himself, as though he needs to step away from the situation before he says or does something he’ll regret.
Wonwoo feels the relief wash over him at being able to go back to Minghao. He’s wasted enough time, so when he sits back down on the bed, observing Minghao tenderly, he finally finds the courage to say something.
“Baby…” He trails off, waiting for Minghao to react. The latter looks up from wet lashes, face still half buried in the curve of Mingyu’s neck. He looks so vulnerable and pained that Wonwoo feels the tears from before trying to push past his lids again, his whole head and throat throbbing with the effort of keeping them in. “Do you want to come to hyung?”
At the words, Minghao throws himself into Wonwoo’s arms, like he’d just been waiting for permission this whole time. He’s still crying and hiccuping when Wonwoo wraps himself around the man, and Wonwoo tries not to let the thought overwhelm him with panic. Fuck. Minghao just isn’t calming down. He doesn’t even when Wonwoo holds him tight and rubs circles around his back, when he rubs up and down his arms, when he trails his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Minghao seems to calm down for a few seconds only to break down again, over and over. And it’s just…It’s too much. Minghao’s tears keep falling and every time Wonwoo thinks he’s finally back, he just breaks down even further and the tears Wonwoo has been holding with all his might finally spill over as well.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Hao. I’ll make it up to you.” Except it seems his words are the opposite of comfort because Minghao flinches violently in his arms, like Wonwoo just hit him, and Wonwoo can’t think of anything he said wrong, so he looks at Mingyu for help and the latter is mouthing something as his own hand comes up to soothe Minghao again. His mouth forms a wide O that purses slightly and…oh. Hao . But Wonwoo calls him that all the time, just not when they’re—in a scene. Right. Minghao’s still there .
“ No…Baby, I wasn’t scolding you. You’re doing well. You’re good. You’re the best boy, okay?”
At that Minghao seems to melt again in his arms, sniffling into the crook of his wet neck. This time, he does seem to settle down a little, the tremors coming in waves instead of constant vibrations that rip through the muscles of his narrow back. Encouraged by this, Wonwoo takes Minghao’s head in his hands to finally take a closer look at him. Minghao’s eyes are still red and his tears still fall. His skin is marred with tear tracks and looks swollen, but he looks a bit more serene, his features no longer pulled taut in an agonized grimace.
Wonwoo runs his thumbs over his cheeks tenderly, hoping his bursting love spills into the touch, and Minghao sniffles a little before pushing eagerly into his hands. His eyes are adoring, looking at Wonwoo like he’s everything precious in the world, but they’re still hazed, still pained with a tinge of fear. Wonwoo opens his mouth to speak but Minghao steals the silence before he can.
“Do you still love me?”
Those words, spoken in Minghao’s small, strained voice, rob the breath out of him. It comes out in a puff, like he’s received a blow to the stomach, and he bursts into tears again. Fuck. He fucked up so badly. He holds on to Minghao’s head tighter, threading his fingers desperately down the sides of Minghao’s head, and lets their foreheads touch.
“Minghao, I love you. I love you with all my heart, and it kills me to see you hurting and knowing that I did this,” Wonwoo manages through his tears, unable to keep his voice from breaking.
When Minghao turns to burrow his face into the elder’s chest again, high pitched cries fall from his lips and scald Wonwoo’s skin, but the elder lets himself hope that these tears are different, that he did something right.
Wonwoo had been so absorbed in Minghao that he’s almost surprised to find Mingyu throwing himself into their embrace, and Wonwoo spares him a thought, proud and fond and so full of love for this man that he wouldn’t know how to live without. His arm untangles itself from where it’s caught in Minghao’s shirt and he brings it out and around the back of Mingyu’s neck, his other arm still holding Minghao steady against his chest.