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For the most part, Wonwoo likes to think that he and Mingyu get along really well. They're friends, bordering on best friends even.
Sure, their beginning was a bit rocky; it couldn't not be with how different the two were. When Mingyu moved into his dorm, he needed some time to adjust to his positivity, his preferences, his overall presence. Once they got over their differences, however, Wonwoo found out that they actually have more in common than he initially thought. They have a shared passion for photography, hang around in the same social circles and even take a few of the same classes.
Once they started actually talking, and not just arguing about Wonwoo's horrid sleep schedule and Mingyu's problem with personal space—compromises were made—they hit it off really well. So well, in fact, that when next year rolled around, they continued their living agreement, upgrading to a small apartment outside of campus. It's nothing grand or luxurious, but he likes the little added privacy. Not being woken up by a rowdy crowd of drunk students in the corridor is the biggest advantage, though.
Second biggest, actually, because now, Mingyu cooks way more than he used to. Even if Wonwoo isn't the biggest food lover, he knows a good dish when he tastes it, and everything Mingyu has presented him with so far has been nothing short of extraordinary.
Throughout their friendship, they've naturally had a few hick-ups, mostly about trivial things like which scent of hand soap to buy or to which temperature the AC should be set. They're always quick to reconcile, though, not managing to stay mad at each other for longer than a few hours.
One time, Mingyu had gotten irrationally mad over how Wonwoo hadn't eaten a proper meal the whole day, because—obviously—he keeps track of his roommate's eating habits. It's what a good friend does, nothing more to it. The argument was resolved swiftly, Mingyu knocking on Wonwoo's door with a fresh bowl of ramyeon in his hands and Wonwoo with a promise of lessening his screen time.
Mingyu's usually the first one to speak up when he feels wronged, but also the first one to apologize, so it balances out.
This is exactly why Wonwoo is at a loss of words when he realizes Mingyu has been ignoring him for the past two weeks.
It hadn't been that obvious in the beginning. Mingyu's in his third year of college now and the workload doesn't decrease in the slightest, Wonwoo knows that. That's why he chalked up the fact that he hadn't seen Mingyu around their apartment to the stress and pressure he must be feeling.
Mingyu's a perfectionist, only satisfied when he knows he's reached his full potential, and he can get quite sulky when things don't turn out the way he envisioned them. Wonwoo figures he must've gotten a bad grade on one of his assignments, leading him to spend more time in the campus library.
It's only when he bumps into Mingyu on campus that he realizes there must be another reason. He overhears him boasting to Minghao, one of their mutual friends, about his perfect grades and how the professors have been really chill this semester. Weird, Wonwoo thinks, but he doesn't question it further.
It gets weirder, though, and even someone as painfully oblivious as Wonwoo has noticed the changes in their dynamic.
Whenever Wonwoo joins his friends' table at lunch, Mingyu suddenly realizes he forgot he had an appointment with a professor.
Whenever Wonwoo's in his room, Mingyu's bustling inside the apartment, but the moment he opens his bedroom door, Mingyu is nowhere to be found.
Mingyu still makes them food, but he doesn't even knock on his door anymore to call him to the table, only leaves a note on the table with how long he should warm it up in the microwave if it's gone cold.
One moment, he does run into him—weird to say when they literally live together—and when he reaches out an arm to stop Mingyu from walking away, the younger merely jumps at the contact and dashes out of the door, claiming he has a study date with Seokmin.
He doesn't. Wonwoo knows this because he has a study date with Seokmin in thirty minutes, after he had finally agreed to tutor the younger for his literature course he had decided to follow because one of the people in there had caught his eye.
When he brings up the issue to Seokmin, he simply brushes it off.
"I'm sure it'll pass in a few days. You know what Mingyu's like."
Wonwoo shrugs. He does know Mingyu, and that's the part that bothers him. The Mingyu he knows would come to him with problems, not bottle them up.
"I'll talk to him later, if that's what you want. Now, can you explain what the author meant by 'the curtains were blue', please? I'm going crazy over here looking for meaning in this text."
Wonwoo's pretty sure Seokmin'll cry when he finds out that sometimes, things have no meaning, they're just there in the story. Not as a means to move the plot forward, not as a means to hide a new meaning in the story. Sometimes the curtains are just blue, and that's a truth you have to live with, no matter how hard it is to understand.
"It's up to interpretation," is what he settles on, deciding to drop the bomb when Seokmin looks a little less close to having a mental breakdown.
He drops his head to the table ungraciously, letting out a dramatic groan.
"I should've never taken this class," he sighs.
"That's what you get for chasing after a boy."
"And now he's dropped out of the course while I'm losing my mind over the fucking colour of someone's eyes."
"Hey, at least you have me to help you."
Wonwoo swears he can see a tiny tear escape out of the corner of Seokmin's eyes, rolling onto his papers full of scribbles and highlighter marks.
"You know, Soonyoungie-hyung's eyes are really pretty. Usually, they're really round and cute and they just make me wanna grab his face and kiss him on his cheeks, but, God, hyung, when he gets riled up—"
Wonwoo slaps his hand over his mouth. "I do not need to hear how my friend looks when he's going down on you."
"You're just jealous."
"Of you being with Soonyoung after pining over him for an entire year? No thanks."
Seokmin lifts his head from the table, glaring at Wonwoo. "I'm starting to doubt whether you've even felt the touch of another person in your life."
"Either we go back to studying or I'm leaving. Your choice."
He sighs and pulls his book back in front of him, and Wonwoo's glad to help him out when he's stuck on a worksheet the professor assigned him in relation to the book. It's easy, considering Mrs. Son has never changed her tasks, not once in her twenty-year long career as a literature teacher. At the end of their session, he gives Seokmin the answer sheet he had received the year prior from Yoon Jeonghan, one of his seniors.
"You've had this the entire time?"
"You wouldn't have learned anything if I had just given this to you."
Seokmin opens his mouth to say something, but he must realize that Wonwoo's right, judging by the way he stays silent, carefully shoving the piece of paper into his tote bag.
Before they part, Seokmin leaves him with some words of wisdom himself, "Hey, hyung. Go easy on Mingyu, okay?"
Wonwoo wants to ask what he means, but before he even gets the chance to, Seokmin's already disappeared out of sight.
---
It's 3 a.m. and Mingyu isn't home yet.
Normally, this wouldn't bother him. Mingyu always lets him know where he's going and texts him when he leaves, no matter if he's asleep or not. He's never asleep, thanks to his sleep schedule.
This time, though, Wonwoo has no idea where Mingyu is.
He returned from an exhausting day at school and an even more exhausting shift with annoying customers at his part-time job in the café down the street. When he came home, their house was clean. Too clean, even for Mingyu's standards. No traces of his shoes at the entrance or his keys thrown somewhere on the table.
Wonwoo checks his messages to see if he missed a notification, but there's nothing. He opens up his chat history with Mingyu to double check, but his latest message dates back to almost three weeks ago, a simple text asking Wonwoo to bring some onions home when he goes grocery shopping.
Obviously, Mingyu doesn't owe him an explanation. He's a grown man, and he doesn't need to let Wonwoo know his every move, nor does he need to be kept updated. He just wishes he would keep the promise they made when they moved in together. A simple message stating that he's going somewhere—doesn't even have to include the location—and another one when he's on his way back. They had both agreed to it. This way, they know the other is safe, that's all.
He shrugs it off, deciding to spend his time doing better things than worrying about Mingyu. He probably forgot to charge his phone or something stupid like that. He wouldn't put it past him.
Midnight rolls around and by now, he's genuinely starting to worry. He texts a few of their mutual friends, but nobody knows anything, not even Seokmin. He decides to watch some TV to kill the time, but before long, he's dozing off on the couch, phone still in hand and Do Not Disturb turned off.
He's woken up by the abrupt thud of his front door hitting the wall, a light harshly being turned on in the entrance. When Mingyu walks in, he looks shocked to see Wonwoo sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest.
"Why are you still awake?"
That's the first thing he says? Not an explanation as to why he looks fucked up or reeks of booze, reaching Wonwoo's nostrils despite the distance between them?
"Where were you?"
"None of your business," he says, walking past the couch and heading into the kitchen.
No way he's avoiding him again.
Wonwoo puts a hand on the fridge door, preventing Mingyu from opening it. "You didn't text."
Mingyu shrugs, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt, and is that a hickey? Fucking hell.
"I was at Seungkwan's."
"Liar."
Seungkwan was one of the first people Wonwoo had texted. He let him know he was out to see the new Barbie movie with a few of his friends, Mingyu not included.
And even if he was home, there's no way he'd return from his place with a set of hickeys on his chest and neck and a lipstick mark on his collar to accompany it.
"Are we done here?" Mingyu runs a hand down his face. "I'm exhausted."
Wonwoo points a finger at him, jabbing into his chest. "I was worried about you, asshole."
"I never asked you to be." He slaps his hand away, and he almost walks past Wonwoo and to the hall.
Almost, because Wonwoo grabs onto his upper arm and forces him to stand still and look at him. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but you've been impossible to be around lately."
Mingyu scoffs, full-on scoffs in Wonwoo's face, smelling of cheap alcohol and cigarettes. "Look who's talking."
"Excuse me? If you have a problem with me, you grow some balls and say it to my face, okay?"
"Fuck you."
He shoves past him, slamming the door to the bathroom loud enough to wake up the neighbours.
---
"You look like shit, man," Soonyoung comments as soon as he joins them in the cafeteria in between lessons.
Wonwoo doesn't feel like eating—at least not the disgusting cafeteria food, as used as he is to Mingyu's home-cooked meals—so he shoves his tray towards the two sitting in front of him. "Got almost no sleep."
"Is the Mingyu-thing still going on?" Seokmin asks, stealing a few pieces of meat off of his plate.
Soonyoung doesn't look confused in the slightest, so he figures Seokmin must've told him. He was about to, anyway, but since those two are always glued to each other, it was only a matter of time before he heard about it through him.
"He came home yesterday fucked out of his mind and started yelling at me for no reason. No text, no nothing."
Seokmin looks around for a few seconds, eyes avoiding Wonwoo's. "Maybe he just needed some time apart?" he says, but his voice is anything but confident. Wonwoo's sure he knows what's going on; he just won't tell him.
"He didn't have to be such an ass about it."
He stands up, grabbing his bag next to him as he spots Mingyu walking into the cafeteria, somehow still managing to look sculpted by the gods despite coming home not even twelve hours ago. The turtleneck he wears does nothing to hide his hickeys, but it sure does an amazing job of accentuating his unfairly sharp jawline.
"Where are you going?" Soonyoung asks, surprised at his sudden movement.
"Finding a place to take a nap before class. I'll see you two later."
As he walks away, his shoulder brushes against Mingyu's, who takes his spot as he sits down at the table. Neither apologize, only shooting each other a glare before carrying on with their day.
When he gets home at the end of the day, Mingyu is once again nowhere to be found.
If Wonwoo purposefully doesn't store his shoes away on the shoe rack in the entrance, he doesn't admit it. Neither does he admit to the way a small smile finds its way to his lips at the thought of Mingyu tripping over them in his probably hammered state when he comes home in the early hours of the morning.
---
It's been a week since their argument and, honestly, Wonwoo is done trying.
Granted, he's never been the best at taking initiative, but he's pretty sure that everything he's done these past weeks to get Mingyu to talk to him again is enough to prove that he's willing. It's Mingyu who isn't.
No matter how many texts he sends him or how much he waits for him to come out of his room or return home, nothing changes. When they do spot each other, Mingyu either runs in the other direction or just completely ignores his presence. He's not sure which one hurts more.
Because, yes, as much as he doesn't let it shine through, he's hurt. He doesn't know why one of his best friends just decided to stop talking to him out of nowhere. There was no big argument leading up to it, in fact, the night before he decided to ignore him, they were snuggled up on the couch watching an extremely cheesy movie.
If Mingyu wanted to stop being friends for whatever reason, then fine—not fine, but you can catch the drift—so be it, as long as he talks to him about it. That way, if things come to the worst, he can at least look for a new place or send in his application to move back into the dorms. At this point, it feels like he's living alone, so nothing much would change, really.
He's tired. So, so tired of countless nights spent waiting to hear Mingyu come home, waiting to hear him stagger into the kitchen and make him something to the best of his drunk abilities.
That's another problem: with Mingyu waking up late and coming home in the early hours of the morning, he doesn't cook anymore, at least not when Wonwoo's home. Sure, maybe Wonwoo shouldn't have grown so dependent on Mingyu's cooking skills, but it's what they had agreed on when they first moved in together. Mingyu cooks, Wonwoo does the dishes.
Not any longer, though, and Wonwoo feels the effects. He's been eating less, simply not bothered enough to stop his moping and prepare himself a nutritious meal.
The Mingyu from before would've already knocked his door down and forced an actual home-made dish down his throat. The Mingyu from now probably just shrugs seeing the empty packages of instant meals heaping up in the trash can.
He doesn't know when he exactly started talking about Before and Now. It's not like there was some life-changing event that altered the course of history, but it feels like that to him. There's Mingyu before the Cold Shoulder, and the Mingyu after it. Almost two entirely different people, at least to him.
None of his other friends have seemed to notice the change in his behaviour, or they’ve at least been secretive enough to keep it to themselves. Knowing his friends, the two options are plausible.
---
Saturday, during his shift, he looks up from behind the counter as the bell at the entrance dings, signaling the arrival of a customer. It had been a relatively busy day, enough for him to get his mind off of things, but when he sees who walks in, his headache is back in raging action. Minghao and Mingyu are talking animatedly to each other, seemingly not a single problem in the air between them. Mingyu smiles, a sight he hasn't seen in ages, and he feels his insides cramp up.
When Mingyu spots him behind the counter, his eyes grow wide, like he had somehow completely forgotten that Wonwoo works here, and he turns on his heels, stomping out of the café.
Minghao turns to him, muttering a quick "sorry, man," and giving him a pitiful smile before following behind Mingyu, calling out his name as he chases him.
Minghao gets added to the imaginary list in Wonwoo's head, fittingly titled ‘People to interrogate’.
"Everything okay, hyung?" Chan asks, somehow having sneaked up on him while that happened. Damn him and his swift footwork.
"I don't even know anymore," he sighs.
When the bell rings another time, he's foolish enough to hope that it's Mingyu. It's not, but he puts on his best customer-service smile as he takes their order, ignoring the way his heart tightens in his chest.
Everything goes alright until he walks out to bring a customer their coffee an hour before closing, hands shaking uncontrollably as he tries to balance the mug on the saucer that isn't quite made to fit this size of mug. The mug tips over, hot liquid spilling onto his hand and dropping the plate in the process. He's lucky that no customers are hurt, but his hand burns and eyes sting as he bows down to them in apology, hoping a black hole would pop up beneath him and swallow him whole.
He bends down, picking out the big shards before someone's pulling him up by his shoulders.
"Hyung, you go hold that under water right now. I'll clean this up."
Before he can protest, Chan's shooing him away to the break room, already down on his knees as he cleans up the mess he made.
"I heard something fall. You okay?" Seungcheol, another one of his coworkers asks as he rushes over to the faucet next to Wonwoo.
"It hurts," is all he manages to croak out before tears obstruct his vision and then he's crying—scratch that, full-on weeping as he holds his hand under the running water.
He's not an idiot. He knows these tears aren't just from burning his hand. That was the drop that made the bucket run over, but he had been gathering enough water over the past weeks to the point where he was threatening to spill over at any second.
Seungcheol catches onto it quick enough—he's always been the more observant one of his friends—and he pulls Wonwoo against him, making sure his hand stays under the faucet.
"You can let it all out, Woo. Don't worry."
So he does. He lets it all go, everything he's been holding onto the past few weeks. In between the heaves and sobs, he lets out a few incoherent sentences about what happened, leaving Seungcheol to piece them together.
By the time he stops crying, he's pretty certain his hand has been under the water for way longer than twenty minutes. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Cheol," he admits, still sniffling.
"Hey," he whispers softly, pulling back and running his thumbs over Wonwoo's tear-stained cheeks, "accidents happen. That doesn't mean you can't glue the shards back together."
"He won't talk to me."
"Then he's an asshole who doesn't deserve you."
"That's my friend you're talking about."
Seungcheol scoffs, rolling his eyes.
Fuck, has the word "friend" always stung this much? Why does it feel so unnatural flowing out of his mouth? A month ago, it'd be weird to introduce Mingyu as anything other than his friend, even "roommate" not enough to describe their relationship. Now, he can't even fully call them roommates anymore without feeling awkward, spending more time apart than together.
Seungcheol turns the faucet off. "Come on," he says, lightly tugging on Wonwoo's unscathed hand.
"Where are we going?" Wonwoo asks, refusing to move.
"Pharmacy."
"My shift—"
"Will be covered by Chan and me. He can manage on his own for half an hour. I'll chip in and help him close once I drop you off at home."
Luckily for them, there's a pharmacy right around the corner, and Wonwoo quickly gets the help he needs, after a scolding from the older pharmacist who works at the counter. It's not the first time he or one of his colleagues have dropped by, and despite promising to be more careful each time, accidents happen, just as Seungcheol said.
The closer they get to his doorstep, the more he starts to dread what comes next. Either Mingyu's there and he'll cry because he doesn't want to face him or Mingyu isn't there and he'll cry because he doesn't want to be alone.
"Text me if you need anything, okay? I'm just a call away," Seungcheol says before they inevitably part, giving him a reassuring hug before heading back to work.
He opens the door and surely, all the lights in the house are on. As stealthily as possible, he goes to his bedroom, the little bag he got from the pharmacy in hand. He can only imagine how silly he looks sneaking around in his own place, but for some reason, it fits the vibe that's been hanging in this house for the last weeks.
Sitting down on his bed, he rummages through the bag, making sure he has everything before he begins patching up the wound. He has everything he needs. Everything except for bandages. He remembers telling the pharmacist he still had some at home, not wanting to spend unnecessary money.
He does have bandages somewhere in this house, but they're in the last place he wants to be in right now.
For a second, he considers sucking it up and just leaving the wound open, but his sheets aren't exactly the softest and he doesn't want the skin to rub against them every second when—if he sleeps.
He swallows his pride, gets up from his bed and within a minute, he's standing in front of Mingyu's closed bedroom door. He never closes his bedroom door, likes the way Wonwoo can slip in and out whenever he pleases when he's in the mood to talk, likes the way it feels like he has nothing to hide from him.
But, here he is, standing in front of his closed door, sighing for what feels like the hundredth time before knocking.
"What?" Mingyu snarks, almost immediately.
"I'm not in the mood to fight, Mingyu," he says dejectedly, taking a deep breath before continuing, voice a little steadier. "I just need the bandages from the first-aid kit."
They had kept the first-aid kit in the bathroom at first, but as they continued living together, Wonwoo quickly figured out that Mingyu was clumsy to an alarming degree. At the time, it had seemed like a better idea to keep the kit in his room, closer to him in case of any Mingyu-related emergencies.
Something in his voice—maybe the desperation, maybe the exhaustion—must have convinced Mingyu, because a few seconds later, the door in front of him opens, revealing a very scantily clad figure, dressed only in a pair of sweatpants. He looks at him and he looks back, frozen for a few seconds before he speaks up,
"Were you crying?"
Really? Out of everything to say after not speaking to each other for that long, he chooses that?
"Shut up and just give me the bandages."
Mingyu grabs onto his wrist and pulls him into his room, pushing him down on the edge of his bed. He opens one of his drawers, pulling out the first-aid kit and a hand sanitizer.
Without words, he grabs the bag from Wonwoo's hand, dumping the contents onto his sheets. After sanitizing his hands, he grabs the disinfectant and starts spraying down the wound. Wonwoo winces as the spray hits his skin, resisting the urge to pull his hand out of Mingyu's grip.
"This is going to sting," Mingyu says, waiting for it to dry down.
"You're supposed to say that before you put it on, dumbass." Fuck, why does his voice sounds so small?
"Sorry," Mingyu whispers back, and then it's back to silence as he takes the ointment and applies it onto the area as softly as possible.
He grabs the roll of bandage gaze, rolling out a tiny bit before beginning to wrap Wonwoo's wrist. "Tell me if it's too tight, okay?"
Wonwoo can't hear him over the sound of his racing heartbeat. He can't remember the last time he was this close to Mingyu without screaming each other's ears off. He misses it, misses Mingyu so much that he can feel his eyes welling up as he stares at the man next to him, fully concentrated on treating him.
Once everything is wrapped up securely, Mingyu pulls back a little, but he doesn't let go of Wonwoo's hand, rubbing soothing motions into the bandage. The pressure hurts a little, but the cost of the pain is small in comparison to the joy of Mingyu being intimate with him again.
"Did this happen before or after I was there?"
That's not what he wants to ask. Did this happen because of me? Did I cause this? Were you thinking of me? Wonwoo hears it in the tone of his voice, so open, yet holding so many secrets.
"Does it matter?"
Yes.
It was because of you.
"It does to me."
Wonwoo doesn't answer, only hopes that the tears in his eyes tell him enough as he looks at him.
Mingyu lifts his hand, bringing the bandage to his face and pressing his lips against the fabric. He drops the hand, and for a wicked second, Wonwoo swears he sees Mingyu lean in, his other hand coming up to cup his cheek. For another wicked moment, Wonwoo decides to close his eyes.
They're close, oh-so close that he can practically feel Mingyu's hair brush across his forehead. Their noses bump against each other, Wonwoo angles his face so it doesn't happen again. He feels Mingyu shift on the bed, lightly pushing at his shoulders so he lays down and the mattress dips down on both sides of his head, presumably because of Mingyu's hands supporting his weight.
The bed frame creaks under the pressure, Wonwoo hears Mingyu breathe in, and then his phone dings.
Mingyu jumps away as quickly as he had gotten close, almost falling off the bed in the process. Wonwoo reaches out, trying to grab onto Mingyu's non-existent sleeve, but he misses, slamming his hurt hand against the foot of the bed. He lets out a pained sound, reaching for his phone, revealing a text from Chan.
hyunggg, everything okay? worried about u :(
"I, uh, I should go ba—" he begins, cursing the way he sounds so out of breath.
"Get out of my room."
Suddenly, he's back to the Mingyu from a day before, cold and distant, no longer the caring Mingyu from seconds ago.
"Get out," he repeats, glaring at Wonwoo until he leaves the room, the ointment on the bed long discarded.
Wonwoo rushes out of the apartment, not bothering to put a coat on—something the old Mingyu would've gotten sulky over—and running to the café down the street. Luckily, he finds Chan and Seungcheol still in there, and it takes everything in him to not break down as soon as he enters.
"We're closed," Chan says, seemingly on autopilot as he's sweeping the floors. "We open tomorrow at—"
"Eight. I know."
"Hyung!"
Chan drops his broom, flinging his arms around Wonwoo's neck. Wonwoo hugs back, careful not to hurt his hand this time.
He sees Seungcheol standing in the corner, looking at the two of them with a smile tugging on his lips and that's all it takes for Wonwoo to let the tears flow for the second time that day.
He explains what happened—the full story this time—to both of them over a glass of hot chocolate and whatever leftover pastries they have.
When he gets back home, his heart a little lighter, Mingyu's no longer there. He should've expected it, really. He turns on the light to his bedroom, finding the pharmacy bag on his bed, along with an extra roll of bandage.
He shoves them aside, falling down on his bed and hoping to not wake up for a long, long time.
---
It seems that even his friends have picked up on the fact that something must've happened, judging by the way they dance around the topic of Mingyu as much as possible.
When Jeonghan asks him to bring over some of Mingyu's food to his apartment, Seungcheol slaps him on his thigh, quickly shutting him up.
When Hansol invites the two of them to a movie night at his dorm, Chan glares at him, muttering a quick apology to Wonwoo.
Wonwoo does show up, but not with Mingyu by his side as he usually does. He curls into the side of Soonyoung, taking advantage of the fact that Seokmin is nowhere to be found in his vicinity for a change. Soonyoung doesn't comment on his unusual clinginess, only double checks that their blanket is big enough for the two of them as they get settled on the ground, leaning against the couch.
The movie is—objectively—awful. It's an undercooked concoction of a bunch of overused tropes being bunched up in a short timespan, trying to milk the movie and its audience to its last drop.
The worst part is that for some weird, fucked up reason, Wonwoo relates to it. It's almost like the movie is a parody based on the shitshow that's been his life recently.
It's so bad that at some point, Seungkwan grabs the remote and pauses it, needing to vent out his frustrations.
"He's not making any sense!" he huffs, pointing at the main character. "Why would he insult her right after trying to kiss her?"
Seungkwan looks to him, hoping that Wonwoo, with all his knowledge on media and literature, could be of any help, but his face falls as he meets his eyes.
"I don't know. I really don't," he whispers, shaking his head.
He has so many things he could say. Sometimes, peoples' actions don't line up with their words. Sometimes, they try to hide something by acting the opposite of how they feel. Sometimes, people are just assholes who don't consider others' feelings. He feels like, recently, he can't differentiate between the reasons anymore.
"I wish I did."
It's an afterthought, quiet enough for nobody except Soonyoung to hear it as the movie resumes. He pulls his arm closer around him, and Wonwoo can't help the stray tear that escapes his eyes.
The movie finishes and while everyone is laughing, having the time of their lives tearing the movie to shreds, Wonwoo can't seem to join in on the fun. He's still caught up on the fact that, after all the shit that went down, the two main characters lose contact. They never apologize, never talk about what happened, never see each other again. They part ways, never to be reunited.
He feels sick to his stomach, like he's just seen a vision of his imminent doom.
Hansol rises from the couch, walking over to the fridge and beginning to take out an arrangement of different beer cans and bottles, handing them out according to preference.
When Junhui nudges his shoulder, bottle of beer in his hand, he simply shakes his head. He's had enough of the mere smell of alcohol this past month, let alone the taste.
With a flimsy excuse of not feeling well, he manages to escape the movie-night-turned-tiny-party and heads home. It's not like it'll be any better there, he just really doesn't feel like keeping up an act right now.
He doesn't miss the way everyone's eyes are on him as he leaves the room, neither the silence that falls over them, everyone too afraid to speak up.
---
He's fully intending on rotting on the couch tonight. Mingyu can't even yell at him to get out; this couch is as much Wonwoo's as it is Mingyu's. He's made up his mind.
Yet, the moment Mingyu walks out of the bathroom, hair still damp, he's ready to dash to his room.
"Stay," Mingyu says, huddling into the opposite corner of the couch.
Wonwoo gathers up the courage to let his eyes run over Mingyu's figure, and wow, he's never seen him like this before. He looks exhausted, even more than during exam season or when they were in the process of moving in.
Now, in no way does he look bad. It's impossible for Kim Mingyu to look bad, that's something he discovered a long while ago. But, after living with him for almost three years, Wonwoo knows the signs. His shoulders are slumped, his eyes don't contain his signature sparkle, his lips are chapped and chewed up.
Mingyu breaks him out of his focus. "You look...not good," he murmurs, weighing every word before speaking it.
Talk about an understatement.
Wonwoo knows he looks like shit. He hasn't been eating or sleeping well, his hand is still bandaged up and he can't find the energy in him to care about his looks. His roommate has been ignoring him for the past month, comes home at ungodly hours and tried kissing him a few days ago only to yell at him seconds after.
He's exhausted, in more ways than one.
"Haven't been having the best time lately."
It's a half-truth, but infinitely better than any of the much more accusatory and annoyed comments that were about to leave his mouth.
Mingyu stays silent, face scrunching up at the words. Seems he got the message anyway. He doesn't walk away, though, and Wonwoo takes this as his chance to continue. It's not everyday he gets an opportunity to talk to Mingyu like this anymore.
"Is it something I said? Something I did? I'm trying my best to understand, Mingyu, I really am, but I don't know what I've done wrong."
"It's not you."
Well, now he's even more confused.
"Then what is it?" His voice raises a little, exasperation unmistakably present. "We're friends, are we not? You know you can talk to me about anything."
"I can't. I really can't." He looks away. "Not about this."
"Mingyu," Wonwoo tries, tentatively moving closer to him. Mingyu doesn't flinch away, so he considers it a success.
"I...I'm just frustrated."
Good, now they're getting somewhere. All Wonwoo has to do now is keep all snarky remarks at bay, no matter how many are stashed up in his mind and ready to fly out at everything Mingyu says.
"Did something happen at school? With your family?"
Mingyu groans, hiding his face in his hands. "Not like that, hyung. I'm..." The pause he takes is deliberate, calculated. "Frustrated."
Isn't that what he just said? He takes another few seconds to process his answer, but he doesn't get out of it any wiser. Not until Mingyu lifts his head, looks him straight in the eyes and nearly whispers, "Sexually."
That's what this is about? Mingyu's been acting like a complete douchebag all because he hasn't dicked someone down recently? Didn't he literally walk in with a bunch of hickeys a few weeks ago? If that had really been the cause, then everything should've been resolved from that moment on, but it only got worse.
He doesn't want to call him out, though, afraid he'll just retreat back into his shell. He’ll have to approach this in a different way.
"You're handsome."
A blush creeps onto Mingyu's cheeks.
"Suddenly?"
"I'm just saying, it shouldn't be impossible for you to find someone to sleep with. I know at least ten people who'd be dying to share the sheets with you," he says, matter-of-factly, because it's not even an exaggeration. Wonwoo has lost count of the amount of times someone has come up to him and asked for Mingyu's number.
Mingyu's blush deepens even further, stammering as he gets out his answer, "It-it can't just be with anyone, hyung."
Oh.
He must've gotten rejected. That would explain the heartbroken look. Wonwoo can't say he knows what he's going through, but he's heard enough from other people's experiences. Heartbreak is tough, and it can lead to people doing out-of-character things. He gets it. It doesn't excuse Mingyu's actions, but it provides enough of an explanation for him to understand.
"I can help you out."
Yes, he knows how ridiculous he sounds, but he doesn't want to lose his friendship with Mingyu. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Sure, he may not be the person Mingyu thinks about, but he's confident in his abilities to give him a good time.
"Very funny, man."
"I'm serious. Anything to get you back to being normal around me."
If that means sucking his dick, so be it.
He moves forward, testing the waters. Mingyu remains in place once again, seemingly lost deep in thoughts. His hand reaches out to rest on Mingyu's thigh, unmoving, waiting until he speaks up.
"You know what you’re proposing, right?"
He meets Wonwoo's eyes, and there's a turmoil in there that he can't seem to decipher. He figures it must have something to do with the heartbreak.
Wonwoo nods, and then Mingyu's pulling him close, throwing his arms around his neck and kissing Wonwoo, hard. No easing into it, no taking it slow, Mingyu kisses him hard and needy and before long, he's being hoisted into his lap.
This wasn't what Wonwoo had expected. He'd thought Mingyu would take some time to think it all over, but no. He's in Mingyu's lap, making out with him and he can feel him getting hard under him as he rocks his hips up.
His hands begin to wander, one hand landing on Wonwoo's ass and he grabs a handful of it, squeezing hard as he licks into his mouth. Fuck, he wasn't lying about being frustrated.
Wonwoo pulls back, needing to take a few deep breaths before he can speak. In the meantime, Mingyu latches onto his neck, and he wants to tell him to not leave marks, but it's already too late when he feels teeth graze his neck. Oh well, he'll just wear a hoodie tomorrow. He runs cold easily, anyway.
"Mingyu," he pants, pushing him off his neck to face him, "how do you want me?"
"Doesn't matter. I'll take anything you're willing to give me."
There's a bitter tone to his words that Wonwoo can't derive the source of, but he's got more pressing matters at hand.
Honestly speaking, Wonwoo doesn't feel like going all the way today. It's been quite a while and he's not prepped in any way. The cleanup process can get quite messy and while he's sure Mingyu would enjoy it once they're going at it, he doesn't want to bother him with the whole foreplay portion of it. What Mingyu needs right now—or at least what he thinks he needs—is something quick and easy. He's horny out of his mind, but also exhausted, so the quicker they can both go to sleep, the better.
He'll save the other plans for another day, if that day were to ever come. Maybe after this, Mingyu won't need his help anymore. As long as he stops ignoring him, he's fine with that. And if not, hey, that means Wonwoo has gained a new fuck buddy.
A win-win situation in his book.
"Hyung," Mingyu calls out, squeezing his thighs. Right, he's in the middle of something; now's not the time to be thinking about all of this.
"You can fuck my mouth if you want," Wonwoo shrugs, inwardly surprised that that was the first option his brain came up with. It's not like he's complaining, though.
"Fuck, that's hot," Mingyu groans, bucking his hips up. He grabs Wonwoo's face, pulling him in for another kiss, and for a few minutes or however long it is—Wonwoo's not keeping track—they're just kissing, erections grinding against each other as Mingyu's movements grow more and more hurried.
He eventually pulls away, Mingyu chasing after his lips, but when he realizes what he's doing, he quickly lets him go about his business. Mingyu leans until his back hits the headrest as Wonwoo slides down his body, pulling his sweatpants and underwear along with him as he settles at the end of his legs.
"Holy shit, you're big."
The comment slips out before he properly realizes and Mingyu moans—uncharacteristically high-pitched and needy.
"Need you around me, hyung. Please."
Wonwoo leans down, placing a teasing kiss on Mingyu's muscled thigh before his non-injured hand comes up and wraps around Mingyu. He gives him a few tugs, cock heavy in his hand, before his lips are on him. Mingyu whines at the first contact, hands immediately flying into Wonwoo's hair.
He licks a wet stripe along the underside of his dick before slowly taking him in his mouth. He eases him in with almost no effort, his hand taking care of the parts his mouth can't quite cover. Mingyu doesn't seem to mind, though, judging by the curses rolling off of his tongue.
Mingyu's loud and vocal during sex, praise streaming off of lips, and Wonwoo wonders if maybe that's the reason he's never brought one of his hook ups home.
When Wonwoo starts bobbing his head up and down, Mingyu's hold in his hair tightens, legs scrambling to find more support so he can meet Wonwoo halfway.
"So good, hyung—fuck, just like that—so good for me," he mumbles, bordering on the line of delirious and Wonwoo can tell by his voice he's not going to last long.
Mingyu starts thrusting up into his mouth, pushing Wonwoo's head down as he moves. He's lucky he has a good gag reflex, but his eyes tear up regardless as Mingyu hits the back of his throat, thrusts quickly losing their steady rhythm. He's a man desperately looking for his release, and it's apparent in the way he moves, nothing but pleasure on the brain.
As Wonwoo pulls away to lick at his tip and slit, all he gets is a quick "gonna come". Seconds after, Mingyu's releasing down his throat, hot and heavy and heaving under him, Wonwoo having just enough time to wrap his mouth back around him. He doesn't want to deal with cum stains on their couch; it'd make for a pretty awkward visit to the cleaner's.
The small amount of liquid that spills out of Wonwoo's mouth he wipes away with his hand, bringing the fingers to his mouth once he's swallowed the initial load. Again, just for practicality sake; he doesn't feel like getting a towel.
Mingyu gapes at him, mouth wide open and eyes hooded, still coming down from his high as he pants.
"You didn't have to swallow," he says, voice a mixture of arousal and confusion.
Wonwoo just shrugs, tucking Mingyu back into his pants. Before he even gets a chance to go to his room, Mingyu's pulling him back into his lap, mouthing at his neck.
"Wanna touch you, hyung."
And fuck it, they've already gotten this far, so why not let him get something out of this as well? It's impossible to deny that he hadn't also gotten hard throughout what happened, but he blames it on his dry spell that's been going on for way too long. What a way to break the streak.
"Go ahead," he says, and that's all the confirmation Mingyu needs before his hand is snaking under Wonwoo's waistband, freeing him from his restraints.
It takes no longer than a minute for Wonwoo to be pushed over the edge, a moan of his name rolling off his tongue as he spills into his hand. Mingyu kisses him all the way through his orgasm, drinking up any tiny sounds that sneak past his lips. He's sure he can taste himself on his tongue, but he doesn't seem to mind, getting lost in the feeling of Wonwoo's lips on his.
He once again makes a move to get up, this time to get Mingyu a tissue to clean up the mess he made on his hand, but Mingyu stops him again. He takes off his shirt, using it as a rag to clean off both his hand and the corner of Wonwoo's lips before he throws it onto the floor. He leans back against the couch, pulling Wonwoo into his arms as the tiredness from what they just did settles in.
"Mingyu," Wonwoo starts, because they should really go to bed, but he doesn't get any further than that.
"Five minutes, hyung. That's all I'm asking for."
Okay, maybe Mingyu's just the type to get clingy after he orgasms. Wonwoo has met a few of the likes of them before, but he usually never indulges in their requests, quick to jump into the shower or head back home. For Mingyu, though, Wonwoo's willing to do anything, so he stops protesting, letting himself be held.
Mingyu's running a soothing hand along his back, and before long, he feels his eyes drooping. It's been a long day, long week, long month, and the consequences hit him like a pile of bricks after resisting for so long as he drifts off to sleep in Mingyu's arms.
Right before the lights go out in his mind, though, Mingyu presses his lips to his forehead and wishes him a good night, the gesture so pure and domestic and so Mingyu that it leaves his heart burning, somehow affecting him more than anything they just did.
When he wakes up the next morning, Mingyu isn’t home, but a blanket that definitely wasn’t there yesterday is thrown over him and a bowl of food is waiting for him on the dinner table.
---
"Damn, Wonwoo, a leech got your neck last night?" Jihoon—gracing the table they sit at with his rare presence instead of being holed up writing lyrics somewhere—asks as Wonwoo sits down, unpacking his lunch.
Everyone's head turns towards him and there go any of the attempts he made to hide the evidence of yesterday's actions.
"Who's the lucky fellow?" Jisoo teases, shoving his shoulder.
Fuck it, might as well be honest. It’s not like the news would’ve stayed hidden for that long anyway.
"Mingyu and I talked things out—"
"That wasn't his question," Soonyoung unhelpfully reminds him.
"—and did some other things."
Well, the cat's out of the bag. A low whistle is heard from somewhere, and even if Wonwoo can't locate the source of the sound, he's willing to bet money that it's Hansol.
Seokmin chokes on his food.
"You did what?" he all but yells out.
"We were just helping each other out, no big deal."
Judging by the way his eyes widen even more than he thought humanly possible, it is a big deal to him.
Soonyoung and Seokmin share a look, the older deciding to speak up in his place, "And Mingyu agreed to it?"
"Obviously, idiot. What do you take me for?"
The fact that he even dares to think that he did anything against Mingyu's will stings a little.
"Currently? Lots of things I can't say without being hit in the face."
"You're overreacting."
"Fine," Soonyoung huffs, "I just hope you know what you're doing."
And then he's off to class, Seokmin following close behind him, sharing a passionate conversation from the looks of it.
Jihoon seems to still be processing the beginning of the conversation, because when he breaks the heavy silence, it's to ask, "Wait, you fought with Mingyu?"
Jisoo and Wonwoo both groan, saying their goodbyes, leaving Jihoon to bask in his confusion for a little longer. Has it really been that long since they last talked? God, Jihoon needs to leave his studio more often.
---
As much as he wants to talk to Seokmin and Soonyoung about their reactions, he doesn't see them around campus for the rest of the day, so he decides to let it rest and go home once his classes are done.
To his surprise, Mingyu is already home, curled up on the couch instead of in his room. What a sight for sore eyes he is, dressed in comfy clothes, yet still managing to outshine the model on the front page of the magazine that lies discarded on their coffee table.
"Hi," he calls, and wow, how long has it been since Mingyu last greeted him like this?
Wonwoo smiles contentedly, throwing his backpack aside and joining him on the couch.
"Doing a little better?"
Mingyu's ears redden as his eyes fall on the patch of red spots on his neck, prompting him to look away.
"Yeah," he mutters. "Hey, uhm, I—" His voice shakes, so Wonwoo reaches out a steadying hand to place on his knee. "I'm sorry if I overstepped any boundaries yesterday. I shouldn't have—"
"You have nothing to apologize for. I was the one who suggested it. Besides,”—his hand snakes up to his thigh, lightly massaging the skin peeking from underneath his shorts—"I liked it."
His head whips around in an instant. "You did?"
"Was me coming embarrassingly fast not enough of a sign?"
It's fascinating how Wonwoo doesn't even feel the slightest bit of shame while talking about this, but then again, it's Mingyu he's talking to. They share everything—or at least used to.
Mingyu's lips curl up into an abashed smile. "Look who you're talking to. I swear I usually last longer."
"I gotta see some evidence before I believe you."
At that, his hand sneaks under the hem of Mingyu's shorts, cold hands stroking burning skin. Mingyu hums, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment to enjoy the sensation, but he gets up before things can escalate.
"Craving ramyeon?"
"You know me so well."
He chuckles as he moves to the kitchen, but Wonwoo remembers that there's still something very important he forgot to say yesterday.
"Mingyu?"
He turns around right before he can reach the corner.
"Promise to tell me if it ever gets that bad again? I don't want our friendship to be ruined because of something like that."
Mingyu nods, and then he disappears into the kitchen.
---
The evidence comes in the form of Mingyu pounding him into the mattress a few days later, Wonwoo at his complete and utter mercy.
He doesn't even fully know how they got here. One moment, he was standing in the kitchen, the next moment, Mingyu was creeping up behind him, his hands crawling under his shirt as he pressed into his backside, a needy moan of “hyung” on his lips.
One thing led to another, and now here he is, begging for Mingyu to take him, on the verge of overstimulation as the younger drives into him all the way throughout his second orgasm of the night (the first one due to Mingyu being a little too eager while fingering him).
Luckily for him, Mingyu's ungodly stamina does seem to die down as he begins to grow unsteady, his harsh thrusts a sharp contrast to the sweet nothings he's engraving into Wonwoo's skin. A few moments later, he's spilling into the condom, falling limp onto Wonwoo, who wraps his arms around him.
"Fuck, that was even better than I imagined," he pants, littering kisses all over the parts of Wonwoo he can reach.
Once his breathing has steadied a little, he pulls out and grabs a washcloth from the bathroom, cleaning them up to the best of his abilities. All cleaned up, he leans down and places a kiss on Wonwoo's trembling thighs before he repositions himself, throwing his arms around his waist as he snuggles into him.
His mouth trails down the column of his neck, and Wonwoo's sure that he'll be coloured in all shades of red and purple tomorrow, but his fucked-out mind can't bring himself to care about that right now.
There is one thing that his fucked-out mind does seem to care about, though, namely who's got Mingyu this worked up. He hopes Mingyu can tell him one day, because he's dying to know.
For now, he'll just play the part, as long as it keeps Mingyu happy.
---
It’s been deadly quiet since Wonwoo and Mingyu took their rightful places next to each other at the lunch table. Granted, some time has passed since they’ve all peacefully eaten together with everything going on, but Wonwoo doesn’t think it gives his friends the right to exchange glares when they think he isn't looking. Things are good with Mingyu now, so there's no need for them to look this distressed.
Minghao's plea comes out exasperated, “Okay, I respect that you two are fucking, but can you at least try to keep the bedroom eyes where they belong? Mingyu, you look like you're gonna jump him any second.”
Certainly one way to break the silence.
Seungkwan breathes in relief, throwing his arms around Minghao. "Thank God, I thought I was the only one who noticed that."
Murmurs of support and sympathy come from all across the table, the loudest one from Chan, who's sitting right across from them. "I think I've lost my appetite," he whines, but the way he's digging into his bowl suggests otherwise.
Everyone's acting weird, that much Wonwoo understands. He doesn't understand why, though. There were never any complaints when Soonyoung and Seokmin went through their year-long courting phase, basically begging the other to fuck them solely through eye contact and longing stares, but when he and Mingyu so much as look at each other, it's suddenly a problem?
Speaking of said couple, they decide to finally speak up as well, surprisingly having kept quiet during the little round of complaints.
"Hands above the table. Both of you."
Okay, now that's going too far.
"We're not kids, Soonyoung," Wonwoo sighs, but he lifts his hands regardless, hoping to just get this over with.
"Mingyu," Seokmin supplies, narrowing his eyes at the boy next to him.
Mingyu lifts his hand, putting on the most innocent smile he can muster up.
"Other hand," they say simultaneously, and it's creepy how well they work together. Good for them, bad for him and Mingyu.
He complies, and it's obvious by the detour his hand makes that it was definitely not right by his side. A chorus of sighs follow, and then Mingyu drops his hand right back to where it belongs, massaging Wonwoo's upper thigh.
What? A little skin-on-jean contact never hurt nobody.
Seokmin stands up, coming up behind them and then he's pulling Mingyu up by his shoulders.
"I need to talk to you. Privately."
Walking away, he grabs Soonyoung's hand and whisks him along, the three of them disappearing down the halls.
"I don't get why they're so worried."
"Hyung," Chan sighs, placing his hands on top of Wonwoo's. "I love you—it's just that most of the time, those types of arrangements don't work out."
"I appreciate your concern, but don't worry. I won't get attached. We're just having fun."
Minghao groans. "That's exactly the pro—"
Seungkwan's hand covers his mouth before he can finish his sentence.
---
On his way to his next class, as he walks past an empty classroom, he happens to overhear an awfully familiar voice. Blame Wonwoo's curiosity for getting the better of him, because he halts, moving closer to the door until he can clearly hear the conversation.
"Gyu, someone's bound to get hurt and I can tell you with confidence that it won't be Wonwoo-hyung."
Another voice answers, the timbre undoubtedly that of Mingyu, though his voice is small. "I'm being careful."
"Hooking up with Wonwoo isn't 'being careful', Mingyu." Soonyoung, this time. "You're in too deep."
"Fuck, I know. I know. Let's talk another time, okay?"
And then the door handle turns and Wonwoo's sprinting down the hallway and to his classroom, hoping nobody saw him.
He spends the entirety of his lesson trying to find the source of his racing heartbeat: was it because of his god-awful stamina trying to recover from the sprint he did? Or was it because of the conversation he overheard?
By the time the professor announces the end of the lecture, he's not any wiser. When she asks if there are any questions, he almost raises his hand before realizing that they have absolutely nothing to do with this lesson and everything to do with Mingyu.
He tries bringing it up to Mingyu that evening, he really does, but he quickly finds that there are many other ways he'd like Mingyu to use his mouth instead of having to answer questions about a conversation Wonwoo wasn't even supposed to hear in the first place. He decides that it isn't worth it; Mingyu will tell him in his own time.
---
Somewhere along the way, their arrangement goes from sex when Mingyu lets him know he needs it to sex almost every day for no apparent reason. It's not like Wonwoo's complaining; Mingyu looks happier than he has in a long time and Wonwoo gets mind-blowing sex and his best friend back in return.
This development is why he and Mingyu are tangled up in his sheets on a random Sunday morning, making out simply because they have nothing better to do.
It's nice: there's no rush on either side to reach their highs, they don't have to worry about getting to class in time and Wonwoo doesn't need to work. He never works on Sundays, thanks to his boss being really gracious when it comes to his schedule.
He doesn't want to admit it, but sometimes, very sparsely, a scary thought pops into his head when they're acting like this, like they're the only two people in the world. When nothing else around them matters, the sounds they produce the only guide to what's right or wrong. When Mingyu's shoulders fit perfectly into his arms, when his lips slot perfectly into his, when Mingyu slides perfectly into Wonwoo.
He thinks that, maybe, he could get used to this. Not just the sex, but the kisses and the praise and the hugs and the loving stares between the two, gestures that should only be reserved for lovers.
He thinks it and he represses the thought immediately. Mingyu's heart isn't his; it belongs to someone else. Even if Mingyu hasn't yet told him outright, he knows it's true. He's just a distraction, something to take his mind off the heartbreak, a rebound.
Mingyu breaks him out of his thoughts with a nip to his bottom lip and then he's transported back to the present moment. He's foolish for thinking about things like that when in this moment, he's got Mingyu right where he wants him. Well, almost where he wants him; he could do with a little less distance between them, literally and figuratively.
"You there, hyung?"
Wonwoo nods, running his hands down Mingyu's muscled back. "Carry on."
Mingyu does just that, because he's a good boy who likes it when his hyung gets a little assertive, even if he'd never admit it out loud. He leans back on his knees and takes his shirt off, exposing even more surface for Wonwoo to let his hands roam freely.
Right before his traveling hands can breach Mingyu's waistband, his phone buzzes on his nightstand, reminding him of the sad fact that there are indeed more than two people on this planet.
Mingyu grabs his phone for him—gentleman that he is—and pulls a face as he sees the caller ID.
"Do you have to pick up?" he pouts, handing the phone over to him.
Wonwoo squishes his cheeks, wiping the pout off of his face. "You need to learn to get along with him. How long has it been? Like, two years?"
"I just don't like the way he looks at you," Mingyu huffs, nuzzling into his neck.
"You're imagining things."
He picks up the phone, gesturing to Mingyu to stay quiet as he clears his throat.
"What's up, Cheol?"
"Everything alright?"
Mingyu presses a soft kiss to his neck, one of his hands trailing down Wonwoo's abs.
"Yeah, I'm good." Wonwoo swallows as Mingyu's hand dips even further, reaching dangerous territory. "Why?"
"I don't know, you sound out of breath. Anyway, I need you to cover Chan’s shift today if you can."
Wonwoo straightens up, startling Mingyu, who almost lets out a sound, but he holds himself back. "Something wrong with Chan?"
"He came into work with a fever, so I sent him home. Are you available?"
”Yeah, of course." He glances at the clock on the wall. "I'll be there in ten."
"Thanks, Woo." The smile he has on can be heard through the phone. "I knew I could count on you."
"See you in ten."
After hanging up, he has to detach himself from Mingyu, who's making it incredibly hard for him to leave the safety of his bed.
He succeeds eventually, pulling himself loose and throwing on the first pair of clothes he finds lying around.
"You're just going to leave a man in need?" Mingyu whines from the bed, admiring the view as Wonwoo gets dressed. There's no need for any more explanation; the outline of Mingyu's dick pushing against his sweatpants says enough.
Wonwoo comes closer once he's dressed, one knee kneeling on the bed as he leans over Mingyu and captures his lips briefly.
"You have two functioning hands and a wild imagination." His hand brushes over his bulge, the other bucking up into him. "Go crazy."
And then he leaves the room, turning back once more before he closes the door only to see Mingyu grinning like a fool.
"You're a cruel, cruel man, Jeon Wonwoo," he half-shouts out, audible even as Wonwoo walks out of the apartment.
---
"So, are you and Kim Mingyu dating or something?"
It's been a pretty quiet day for business and right now, Jeonghan is the only customer, which means that Wonwoo can sit down and relax at his table for a bit.
"What?" he splutters.
"If you were planning on keeping it secret, you shouldn't be running around like this." Jeonghan points at the shirt he's wearing, and realization doesn't hit until he takes a closer look.
He's not wearing his own shirt. In his rush to get dressed, he must've picked up Mingyu's shirt instead of his own, because he's wearing a black football jersey that he knows has "06 KIM" printed on the back of it. It's the shirt Mingyu was wearing when he came out of the shower this morning, only for him to tear it off a couple moments later.
That explains the shit-eating grin Mingyu had on his face when Wonwoo turned around.
Honestly, he should be more surprised at the fact that Jeonghan doesn't know about their thing yet. News travels fast within their friend group.
"We're not."
Jeonghan cocks an eyebrow, and fuck it, it's almost closing time anyway, so he figures he can catch him up to speed while he's at it.
"We're just sleeping with each other."
For some reason, he doesn't look surprised in the slightest, only nods his head in understanding. It's a nice change from the other reactions he has gotten to the news. Free of judgement, Jeonghan personified.
"How's the sex?" he asks, sipping his coffee.
Blunt, as well. Wonwoo forgets sometimes, thanks to his angel-like features.
It's that attitude that entices him to continue talking, just as boldly, "It's good, like, crazy good. Insane, actually. Best I've had."
"Hey, I know a bunch of guys who'll get sad when they hear that. Look—" He nods his head to where Seungcheol is standing a few tables further, towel in hand. "He's already sulking."
"Am not," he defends himself, but his bottom lip juts out slightly as he speaks and Jeonghan and Wonwoo both burst into laughter.
"You were a memorable second, Cheol," Wonwoo jokes, and a second later, the towel hits his face full-speed.
His night with Seungcheol was induced by a little too much alcohol and bad decisions on both parts, but they can look back and laugh about it now, no harsh feelings. As far as hookups go, Seungcheol was long-reigning king of the ranking, but Wonwoo's afraid his crown might've been stolen.
He walks over to their table, taking Jeonghan's empty cup and pushing it in Wonwoo's hands. "Come on, we're closing."
"Cheollie, don't be so heartless. Let our Nunu go back to his man." Jeonghan bats his eyelashes at Seungcheol, and Wonwoo doesn't think he's ever seen him melt this quickly.
"Not my man," Wonwoo corrects when he realizes he does in fact not have any claim over Mingyu, however iffy that may make him feel.
He shrugs. "Personal dildo, then, I don't care. I'll help close up in his place, so let him go, hm?" He grabs onto his sleeve for extra emphasis. Wow, Wonwoo's pretty sure he needs to be taking notes on how to weaponize his charms. He's witnessing a masterclass right now.
"Fine," he concedes, turning to Wonwoo. "Thanks for helping out today, and sorry if I…interrupted something.”
Wonwoo feels his neck start to heat up.
"Oh God," Seungcheol groans, letting his head fall. "I was joking."
"We weren't fucking!"
A "not yet, at least" almost slips out, but he's sure Seungcheol can go about his life without that extra piece of information.
Jeonghan shoos him out of his seat, almost pushing him out the door.
"You two better be doing it safely!" Seungcheol calls from the staff room, probably gathering the cleaning equipment.
"Yes, sir. Always."
"And don't catch feelings!" Jeonghan smiles, waving him goodbye as he holds the door open for him to leave.
Wonwoo doesn't know why it takes him longer to answer this time, but he does so eventually in the form of a nod and a wave as he steps outside, not trusting his words.
---
"You're insatiable, you know that? Was this morning not good enough for you?"
Mingyu laughs, his fingers continuing to thrust into him at a steady pace, slowly making Wonwoo go crazy under him.
"Your fault for getting me addicted." His lips run along his jaw. "I need the real deal."
"Then stop teasing and fuck me properly."
The trail of kisses lowers down to the neckline of his—Mingyu's shirt. "You're impatient." Regardless, he pulls out his fingers tantalizingly slowly, leaving Wonwoo to groan out in frustration.
"And you take too long."
A quick kiss to his lips is all it takes to shush him as Mingyu takes all the time in the world to rid himself of his shorts and underwear. Once he's fully naked, Wonwoo decides he's had enough of the teasing and takes matters into his own hands.
In a momentary display of strength, he manages to flip Mingyu so that he's now sitting on top of him. As he moves to take off the jersey—the only layer of clothing left between the two of them—Mingyu's hands catch his, stopping him in his tracks.
"Keep it on," he rasps out, voice dropping to a register Wonwoo has never heard before. He can't even hide that it does something to him, the blush on his cheeks serving as evidence for the crime.
What happens next is a blur. One moment, Wonwoo's frozen because of the sudden request, pondering the implications and the next one, he's unwrapping a condom and sinking down on Mingyu's dick, both groaning as he bottoms out.
Now, Wonwoo wouldn't call himself a pillow prince, far from it, but he sure as hell prefers positions in which he doesn't have to put in too much work. Call it selfish, call it smart, he doesn't care which you choose. All he knows is that, usually, he would much rather be in Mingyu's position than the one he's in right now.
For some reason, though, an innate desire overtook him the moment Mingyu uttered those three words and now here he is, already mourning the way his thighs are going to be killing him tomorrow but with no intention to stop.
Mingyu's hands are perched on his thighs as he starts grinding his hips back and forth, setting a slow rhythm.
"Fuck, hyung," he moans, a hand sneaking under his shirt and brushing over his nipple, "you look like a dream."
And now Wonwoo's flushing a bright red above him, nowhere to hide from the praise. You'd think that after a few weeks of this, he'd be used to it by now, but he still gets taken aback when he hears the words fall out of Mingyu's mouth effortlessly.
"Don't say stuff like that," he tries, but any determination is taken away by how his voice wavers and dies out into a moan.
"Come on, now's no time to get shy." He thrusts up once. "Show me what you've got, hm?"
That's all it takes for Wonwoo to up the tempo, planting his feet into the mattress and moving up until only the head of Mingyu's cock is still inside, slamming down twice as hard.
He carries on at a ruthless pace, Mingyu's hands finding refuge on his hips as he starts thrusting up in time with him, pushing him down along to the rhythm.
Curses and praise and moans of his name stream out of his mouth as he throws his head back in pleasure, but a particular sentence sticks out from the rest. It's spoken at the height of his pleasure, right as he thrusts up one final time and spills into the condom, Wonwoo following close behind.
"Wanna make you mine," he whispers against Wonwoo's forehead as the other collapses onto him.
“Then make me," finds its way to the tip of Wonwoo's tongue, but he can't let the words out. Not when he knows they're not meant for him. They're meant for someone else, someone he can't have. That's the scary thing and perhaps the biggest difference between Wonwoo and the person Mingyu thinks about during all of this: Wonwoo would allow Mingyu to have him. Not just as a partner in sex, but a partner in life, and that's a recent development that keeps him up at night.
He knew when getting into this arrangement that this was just a diversion for Mingyu, but to hear it cemented, to have it be confirmed from time to time, it hurts. His stomach clenches at the words, his throat closes up, but the worst pain of all is felt in his heart.
All of a sudden, he's not so sure anymore that what Seokmin had told Mingyu in that empty classroom two weeks ago is true. Someone did get hurt, but that someone is Wonwoo, not Mingyu.
He rolls off Mingyu, trying to get up and preferably go cry in the shower or something, but Mingyu immediately throws an arm around him, keeping him close. Damn him and his post-coital clinginess, and damn Wonwoo and his stupid feelings for staying, because his thighs burn and so do his eyes but Mingyu's touch just feels so right that he can't help but melt into it.
That's the reason why he stays exactly where he is, even when Mingyu excuses himself to go to the bathroom and comes back to clean him up, quickly taking back his place from earlier.
Wonwoo turns to him. He needs to talk, can't stand it anymore to act like he doesn't know. "Are they good to you?"
"Who?" Mingyu says softly, pushing back a few hairs that were matted to Wonwoo's forehead.
"The person you like."
Mingyu's eyes widen for a second, but he relaxes immediately after, snuggling closer to Wonwoo. "Was I that obvious?" A lazy smile finds its way to his lips.
Wonwoo wishes it would disappear, wishes he would deny his suspicions instead of confirming them.
"They take good care of me." He traces his finger along his nose. "They’re there for me whenever I need help." Down to his jawline. "Whenever I'm with them, time passes too quickly. It's like there aren't enough hours in a day for me to be satisfied. I want to spend every second with them."
His thumb runs over his bottom lip, and as if his words weren't already cruel enough, he delivers the final blow as he leans down and kisses Wonwoo, soft and sweet and tender and the way he should be kissing someone that isn't Wonwoo.
When he pulls back and opens his eyes, all Wonwoo can see is pure adoration and affection dripping from his gaze and he closes his eyes again, afraid that if he looks for a second longer, Mingyu will catch him and see the look he's sporting reflected back at him. The only difference is that Mingyu's thinking about someone far out of reach, while Wonwoo's thinking about the boy right in front of him, whose arms are wrapped around his waist and whose heart is wrapped around someone else's finger.
He falls asleep like that in Mingyu's embrace, the numbers on his back burning into his skin, a reminder of what can never be.
---
Wonwoo blames the fact that he forgot his laptop completely on Mingyu, who forced him to cuddle before letting him get out of bed, making him late to class. Luckily for him, Mingyu was still at home when he called him, so now he's waiting outside with Chan keeping him company.
Despite Chan's initial shock slash minor disgust when he first heard the news, he's actually been one of the more chill guys when it comes to seeing them together. Other people are less chill, like Soonyoung and Seokmin. Even if their reactions had annoyed Wonwoo at first, he wishes he would've headed their warnings. It's too late to turn back now, though, so Wonwoo'll just have to power through what he's feeling. He's sure it'll pass.
When Mingyu spots the two of them at the entrance of the building, he jogs over with the same smile he had on last night and it makes Wonwoo's stomach churn.
"Hey, Chan, everything alright? I heard you were sick."
"I'm all good now, I'm pretty sure I slept it off. Which reminds me,”—he turns to Wonwoo—"thanks for covering my shift. I'm going back inside now since it's cold. Don't wanna get sick again."
And then he runs off, waving the two of them goodbye with an expression on his face that he can't quite decipher.
"Are you cold, hyung?" Mingyu asks, stepping closer and taking his arm in his hand to inspect it. His fingers run over the little bumps popping up everywhere, but he's afraid that those aren't because of the cold.
Wonwoo shakes his head, but Mingyu—caring as always—steps back and pulls off his hoodie, his shirt underneath riding up and exposing a glorious strip of skin.
"Hands up," he whispers and Wonwoo follows, because at this point, he's pretty sure that he'd do anything Mingyu asks of him, might even rob a bank.
Mingyu slides his arms into the sleeves one by one, a little clumsily but succeeding nonetheless, and then he pulls the hoodie over his head. Once his face is uncovered and Mingyu has adjusted the hoodie so it sits on his frame better, he leans down, placing a peck on Wonwoo's lips.
"We're in public," Wonwoo gasps, trying to ignore the way his cheeks light up.
"I don't care." He places his hands on Wonwoo's hips. "How are your legs doing?"
"Still burning.” He lowers his voice, reminded of the fact that they are very much out in the open and should not be discussing their sex life at ten in the morning. “Remind me to never do that again, please?"
Mingyu throws his head back as he laughs, crowding even closer into his personal space. "No can do. You looked way too good riding me for that to be a one-time thing."
He slaps a hand over his mouth, trying his best to glare at him, but he knows his affection thwarts any effort he puts in to be mad at him. He just hopes he can't hear his heart beating out of his chest from how close they're standing. "Jesus, Mingyu, why don't you just tell the whole campus we're having sex while you're at it?"
A certain light flickers in his eyes, a look of mischief that Wonwoo can distinguish without even having to try, and he immediately regrets the words that just came out of his mouth.
His hold on his hips tightens, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. "I wish I could," he whispers, lips against his neck, and it sends another wave of goosebumps down his arms, this time with not even the weather to blame.
He's just projecting, this doesn't mean anything, Wonwoo reminds himself forcefully for what feels like the hundredth time since they've started this. It's a mantra he came up with after yet another sleepless night of pondering Mingyu's actions and gestures, and it put his mind at ease back then. Now, however, it doesn't calm down the storm brewing in his heart.
In this moment, Wonwoo feels it, feels his fears and worries come to life. He's in over his head, with no way to stop his descent into madness.
He pulls back, slightly dizzy from Mingyu's overwhelming, all-encompassing aura. "I should go back to class," he mumbles, and then he's turning around, trying to get away as far as possible.
"Hyung." Mingyu grabs his hand, pulling him back in. "Your laptop."
Wonwoo swallows. "Right."
Idiot.
He waits for Mingyu to unzip his backpack and take out his laptop. When their hands brush against each other, Wonwoo pointedly decides to ignore the spark of electricity it sends down his spine.
Mingyu smiles at him, finally letting his hand go and taking a step back. "I'll see you at lunch, yeah?"
He gives a weak nod, and then he leaves for real this time.
If his knees buckle as he walks away, he blames it on the ache he feels in his legs, not the even worse ache he feels in his heart.
---
The thing about being glued to each other for the past few weeks is that people automatically start to associate one with the other. Most of the time, Wonwoo doesn't care, but right now, he wishes it were different.
No matter how many desperate glances he shoots at Chan or anyone at their table, nobody takes the hints that he's dropping, so by the time Mingyu arrives, he slips right into the clearly empty seat next to Wonwoo, fitting in like it was molded to his size. His hand finds his lower back like it's his second nature, and Wonwoo has to restrict every muscle in his body to not jump at his touch.
He's overreacting, he knows he is. Mingyu's always been touchy, even before they started this mess, but it has never affected him this much.
It's stupid, really, how focused he is on Mingyu's touch, to the point where his surroundings blend into the background. When Jisoo makes a joke that has the whole table cracking up, all he can focus on is how Mingyu leans into him and how his hand slips underneath his clothes and rubs circles into his lower back, lighting the skin on fire.
Stupid, stupid Wonwoo and his stupid, stupid feelings.
As the conversation around him continues, Mingyu leans in closer to him, hot breath fanning his ear as he whispers, "You're burning up, hyung. Everything alright?"
Of course Kim fucking Mingyu had to notice. He always notices when something's off with him, and now that they've gotten this far, Wonwoo can't tell anymore if it's a blessing or a curse.
The proximity is absolutely not helping his case, and neither is the hand that's still stuck to his skin, invisible to others at the table. Wonwoo has to hand it to him, he's gotten better at hiding their skinship. Initially, they tried to stop it completely, they really did, but Mingyu's hand couldn't stop swerving to his side, and within minutes, Wonwoo caved and linked their pinkies under the table.
Right now, he wishes Mingyu would stop; wishes Mingyu would just shut up, take his hands off him and move across the room, far enough so that Wonwoo can finally breathe again.
"I'm not...I don't feel good," he rushes out, and then he removes Mingyu's hand himself before jumping up and all but sprinting out of the room. He doesn't know where to, all he knows is that he needs to get far, far away from Mingyu.
---
"Here you are." Chan's voice is soft when he sits down next to him on the stairs. "You left your bag."
"Thanks," Wonwoo mutters, not finding it in him to put strength in his voice. He doesn't have to pretend around Chan; he knows that much.
"Broke the first rule, huh?"
Wonwoo chuckles dryly, but the humour is nowhere to be found in this situation.
"You know, I used to think people in movies and books were idiots for setting those rules in the beginning. I mean, who can't handle a bit of sex without falling in love?"
Chan stays silent, but his arm lands on Wonwoo's shoulder, giving him a patronizing pat as he continues.
"Guess I'm the idiot now," he scoffs. "Ironic, isn't it?"
"I saw you two this morning, after I left. Call me overbearing or whatever, but you didn't seem okay, so I came to check on you."
"I didn't see you."
"You were too busy being all lovey-dovey with Mingyu-hyung."
Wonwoo tries to hide his face in his hoodie, but Mingyu's perfume overwhelms his senses, so he's forced to face Chan.
"Hyung," he carries on, lightly squeezing his shoulder, "friends don't act like that. Not even friends with benefits."
Like he doesn't know that. Like Mingyu's actions don't leave him questioning everything they've ever done together, starting from the moment Mingyu moved into their crappy dorm to now. Like Mingyu doesn't constantly make him want to blur the lines between friendship and something more.
"He likes someone else, Chan," he says, but it comes out closer to a sob than anything with the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes and his lip trembling.
For the first time, Chan loses his composed demeanor, his face that of absolute confusion. "What?"
By now, he has to hold up his head so the tears don't escape and ruin Mingyu's hoodie. "He keeps saying shit about making me his and whatnot, but he's not even thinking of me."
"That can't be true," Chan whispers.
"He loves them." A tear runs down his cheek, regardless of his efforts to keep them at bay. "I saw it in his eyes."
In Mingyu's beautiful, sparkly eyes that always hold the truth, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. In the eyes that Wonwoo looks for whenever he's lost in the crowd, in the eyes that have calmed him down time and time again. In the eyes that hold affection for someone that isn't him.
"Hyung," Chan begins, but nothing follows. It seems even he is at a loss of words, as unlikely as that might sound.
"I'll be fine," he says, the honorific reminding him of the fact that he is indeed the older of the two and that he shouldn't be sitting here sulking all because he played a stupid game and won a stupid prize. He should be a good hyung, someone Chan can look up to, not someone to take pity on. "I'm sure the sex is just clouding my judgement."
"I don't think that's the case."
Wonwoo knows it isn't.
He nudges him, almost hard enough for him to topple over. "Can't you at least act like you believe me?"
"Fine, idiot."
"That's 'hyung' to you."
"Fine," he pouts, rubbing the sore spot on his arm, "idiot-hyung."
Wonwoo laughs, a real laugh this time, and so does Chan and—even if it's only for a second—everything feels alright. These feelings will pass, and he and Mingyu will go back to being just friends, no complications between the two hindering their friendship.
---
A knock on his bedroom door brings Wonwoo out of focus. He knows it's Mingyu from the rhythm he uses to announce his presence, so he turns around in his desk chair and faces the door.
"Hey," he smiles as he appears at the entrance, his face a nice change from the study material he's been focusing on for the past hour. "Just came to check if everything's alright."
Everything's far from alright. He can't let Mingyu catch onto that, though, so he puts on his best smile and nods.
"Yeah, sorry for acting so weird."
"You don't have to apologize." Mingyu closes the distance between them in a few steps, and within seconds, his hands cup his face, one hand on his cheek and the other on his forehead. "You still feel hot, though. Are you sure nothing's up?"
There's no real way to tell him that he was fine up until a few seconds ago and that seeing his face sends him into a mini heart attack every time he so much as breathes in his vicinity, so he just settles on a small smile and a "Yeah, no worries," instead.
Now that Mingyu's checked up on him, he expects him to go away and go about his day, but he stays in front of Wonwoo, his other hand moving to his cheek as well and caressing the skin underneath with his thumbs.
"You're really pretty when you smile, you know that?" he coos, oblivious to the way his words make Wonwoo's stomach flip.
Then he leans down, planting a kiss on his forehead, then on his nose, and finally on his lips. It takes everything in Wonwoo to not throw his hands around his neck and pull him closer. Mingyu pulls back a few seconds later, seemingly satisfied despite Wonwoo's barely-there participation.
He's still too close for comfort, his presence clouding Wonwoo's ability to think straight. He needs to speak up right now, though, lest he risks digging himself into an even deeper hole.
"Mingyu," he says as softly as possible, "would it be okay if we just...don't do this”—he gestures vaguely between the two of them—"this week?"
His hands immediately retract at the question, like the heat coming from his skin finally scorched his fingers.
Life must be playing a twisted game with Wonwoo, because the moment his hands leave his face and Mingyu puts some distance between them—something he's been wishing for—his limbs ache to reach out and pull him right back in. He can't give in; he needs to stay strong. For the sake of his own sanity.
"Yeah, no, sure. We can do that. It's just—" His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck, shoulder slumping. "I didn't annoy you or anything, right? I get that I can be pretty clingy or touchy, but—"
Who's he kidding? Wonwoo's sanity has long gone already. Maybe that's why the moment he hears the insecurity in Mingyu's voice, he gets out of his chair and places one of Mingyu's hands in his own palms.
"Please don't think that. I just need to focus on school, that's all. You saw what happened this morning."
It's not a lie, per se. Wonwoo's schoolwork has not been the biggest priority in his life these past weeks, so he really should be paying some more attention to it. To say that it's the big reason for his request, though? That is a lie and a half.
"I don't mind bringing you your stuff every day if that means I get to see your face more at school. Gave me something nice to think about for the rest of the day."
How does he just say this stuff with a straight face while being in love with someone else? Maybe he's more cruel than Wonwoo knows.
"Still," is all Wonwoo can come up with, seeing as all his brainpower is currently being used to stop the flush threatening to take over his body.
"As long as you're not doing this to avoid me, I'm down."
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck he's onto me
"Why would I?" he asks, voice wobbly and eyes unable to meet Mingyu's.
Nice save, Jeon Wonwoo.
"Good." He leans in once again, eyes already half-closed before he realizes what he just agreed to, and then he steps back, an embarrassed smile on his face. "I'll get started on dinner."
"Wait," Wonwoo calls out right before he can close the door.
Mingyu peaks his head through. "Hm?"
"Your hoodie."
"Keep it. It looks better on you." He smirks, sending him a wink before closing the door behind him.
Wonwoo can't focus on his work for the rest of the evening, no matter how hard he tries.
He's royally fucked.
---
Thankfully, Mingyu does keep his distance, even if Wonwoo can visibly see how hard he strains his hand not to wander when they sit close to each other.
Nobody notices the change—nobody except for Chan, but he's wise enough to keep quiet and just let Wonwoo figure things out at his own pace.
He spends a lot more of his time at the café, even when he isn't scheduled for work, just coming around to hang out or catch up on his schoolwork. It's a welcome change of scenery, especially with how things are at home. Mingyu isn't making a big deal out of the pause, but for some reason, Wonwoo can't seem to act normally around him.
It’s gotten to a point where he starts panicking even when Mingyu comes into his room to remind him to rest his eyes, only to leave immediately after. Nothing more than that, just a friendly thing he’s been doing since they moved in together, yet it leaves Wonwoo unable to function for minutes after, replaying the scene in his head and trying not to focus too much on Mingyu’s lips when he speaks.
He had hoped that the queasiness in his heart would die down if they stopped having sex, that it was just a result of conflicting feelings and hormones. Sadly, the opposite is true. The more time he spends away from Mingyu, the more he feels drawn to him. The less Mingyu gives him, the more he aches for him.
It's twisted, really, this paradox.
All he knows is that he shouldn't be feeling like this.
---
Thursday is when they yield.
Four days. Four days is all it took for Wonwoo to miss Mingyu's touch so much that he keeps tossing and turning, unable to scare away the thoughts of his roommate as he tries—and fails—to fall asleep.
Fittingly, right at that moment, Mingyu knocks on his door before letting himself in.
"Hi," he says, voice small. Wonwoo can't see his face, but he's sure he's smiling. He always is around him. Wonwoo doesn't know what's so funny. "I think you spoiled me too much, hyung. I can't sleep well without you by my side."
"Come here," Wonwoo sighs, lifting his covers. He hears more than sees Mingyu padding over to the bed, sliding right into the space next to him.
"This is okay, right?"
Yes. Obviously. Sleeping in the same bed doesn't have to lead to anything more. Then can someone please tell Wonwoo why his heart is still beating at a hundred miles per hour?
He nods before realizing that Mingyu can't see him, so he reaches beside him and turns on his small nightlight.
His breath hitches in his throat at the sight of Mingyu, pupils blown wide and lips tinted a pretty pink from all the biting he does on them when he's nervous.
"Hyung," Mingyu whispers, his hand finding Wonwoo's under the sheets and intertwining their fingers. "I think I'm going crazy."
For a minute, all that can be heard in the room is their ragged breathing and the ruffling of the sheets as Mingyu moves closer, foreheads touching.
"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."
A lie.
He can't stop pretending like Wonwoo is someone he's not; that's what this is.
"Me too," Wonwoo answers nonetheless, because Mingyu has been chipping away at his resolve for weeks now, and today is the day it finally all comes crumbling down.
Mingyu closes the minuscule space between them, lips slotting against his like it’s their only purpose. It's funny, honestly, how Wonwoo knows every move Mingyu's planning to make.
Wonwoo knows Mingyu will angle his face to the left, so he immediately turns his face to the right so their noses don't bump into each other.
Wonwoo knows Mingyu will climb on top of him, so he sinks further down into his pillow and lets a steadying hand rest on Mingyu's hip when he does.
Wonwoo knows Mingyu will break his heart, so he closes his eyes and tries to delay the inevitable.
"Is this okay?" Mingyu asks again, and Wonwoo wishes he would just stop being so nice and considerate all the time and take what he wants without asking. Maybe that way, Wonwoo would be able to hate him.
no no no no no this isn’t okay, his mind screams at him, but his heart betrays him when he nods wordlessly, pulling Mingyu closer and wrapping his legs around him.
Mingyu tightens the hold he has on his hand and he doesn't let go of him for the rest of the night. Not when they're fully bare for the world to see, not when he's whispering sweet nothings and praise into his ear, not when they're both panting and their limbs are tangled up under the sheets.
He doesn’t let go, not even when he moans out "I love you, hyung", capturing Wonwoo's lips as he reaches his peak.
---
Unsurprisingly, Chan’s eyes are glued to his neck when he comes into work after his last class has finished for the day.
“So…I assume the dick detox is going well,” he laughs, shit-eating grin on his face as he ties his apron.
“Shut up or I will start crying while making coffee.”
Seungcheol laughs when he steps into the staff room, grabbing Wonwoo’s chin and tilting his head to get a better look at the masterpiece that was created last night.
“Jesus, Woo. I think I should get Mingyu some teething toys for his birthday.”
“Aren't you supposed to be on my side?”
“I am; you know I am. I just won't pass up an opportunity to make fun of you for being an idiot.”
Sure, having people to laugh about his misery with is ten times better than having to go through this alone, but they could be a little less blunt. Then again, they're one of the only people who are willing to make fun of him instead of lecturing him, so he figures he's alright with this.
“I’m fucked, Cheol,” he sighs.
“Yeah, we can tell," Chan chimes in. "No need to brag.”
The pen that was stuffed away in Wonwoo's apron pocket magically gets launched in Chan's direction, hitting him right on the forehead. Thank all the hours he spends playing video games for Wonwoo's godlike aim.
"Okay, that's enough teasing. You two get your asses out there and work and I'll come pick you up after closing."
Chan nods, and before Wonwoo can even fully process his words, Seungcheol leaves.
"We're going somewhere?" he asks once he's caught up to speed.
"Party at some guy from my year's place," Chan shrugs.
"I don't feel li—"
"No arguing. You're coming along and you're going to have fun. No buts, no what-if's. You, my friend, desperately need to get out of the house more."
"Fine, you're right."
"I always am," Chan smirks, and then he hands Wonwoo a band-aid before adjusting his apron for the last time.
"What's this for?"
Granted, Chan has been a little more worried about Wonwoo hurting himself since the coffee incident a little over a month ago, but to go as far as preemptively handing out band-aids? That's another level of overbearing.
"Cover those up," he says, pointing to Wonwoo's neck. "You'll scare the customers who think they have a chance with you away."
"You're being dramatic," Wonwoo sighs, but he rips open the wrapper and puts on the band-aid regardless. He's never been the biggest fan of flaunting his hickeys, even if they come from Mingyu.
"Sure, pretty boy with the glasses who works behind the register. I think we should start keeping tally of how many times people flirt with you."
Wonwoo just rolls his eyes before pushing him out of the staff room and behind the counter, officially starting their shift.
"That's two already," Chan hums in passing as he goes to deliver a latte macchiato to a table in the corner.
Seven times. That's the total of that day according to Chan, not counting every single time a guy came back to try his luck, each pickup line worse than the last.
Wonwoo thinks he's being a little too liberal when counting. People are just nice, and not every compliment they give out should be seen as flirting, at least not according to him, even if the comments are accompanied by a wink. Chan begs to differ, reminding him to stop being so gullible.
"The day this counter stays at one at the end of a shift, I'm buying you and Seungcheolie-hyung drinks and matching t-shirts that say 'Lee Chan is an idiot'," he says as he closes the door behind him once they're done cleaning up.
"I'm keeping you to that."
A car honk is heard at the end of the street, and Chan races to the source of the sound, Wonwoo being forced to sit in the backseat of Seungcheol's comically small car.
---
Parties have never really been Wonwoo's thing, believe it or not. Yes, he likes hanging out with people, but he'd much rather do so in the confines of his own home or a friend's than having to shout over loud music whenever he wants to say something. Add a bunch of sweaty people attempting to dance in the limited space they have and a bunch of cheap booze, and—in Wonwoo's eyes—it's a guaranteed recipe for disaster.
He should've seen it coming, really, from the moment Mingyu had sent him a text as he stepped out the car.
at a party with a few friends
be home in a bit
don't miss me too much ;-)
He decides to ignore the atrocious feeling in his gut as he texts Mingyu back, letting him know he's also gone. It's a Friday night after all, parties are bound to pop up in the area. Just because Mingyu happens to be at one doesn't mean that he's here. Everything is fine, and he won't run into him. He'll use this night to forget about his worries.
And he does, for some time. The house isn't too crowded, the music not too insanely loud, and the taste of the alcohol not bad to a nauseating degree. Seungcheol and Chan are fun to hang around with, even if Chan has a little too much alcohol in his system and begs the two of them to dance with him every chance he gets. It's Seungcheol's turn now to disappear to the makeshift dance floor with his arm wrapped around Chan's shoulder, supporting the younger even if he claims he doesn't need it.
The moment he's left alone, though, that's when it gets bad. Suddenly, he feels way too conscious of how he's standing here, no one to talk to in the middle of the party and so he flees the scene, looking for a safer, less crowded space. That's how he finds himself in the ridiculously big backyard of the just as ridiculously big house he's in, the music drowning out into the background.
The cold air hitting his face serves as a refresher, bringing his muddled mind to clarity and he finds the nearest wall to lean on, content with just looking out at the people having fun in front of him.
"Jeon Wonwoo, right?" A deep voice chimes next to him.
He turns, and when he does, the sight takes him by surprise. The guy talking to him is tall, maybe even taller than Mingyu—not that he's comparing—but he wears a shy smile on his face. Handsome as well, Wonwoo's mind supplies.
He has a feeling that he should know who this is. He's seen his face a few times around campus, and besides that, it's pretty hard to not remember someone of his stature. Sadly, his mind doesn't seem to want to cooperate, so he just keeps staring at the man in front of him.
"Kim Hosung, same year as you."
"Right, sorry." Wonwoo smiles back just as shyly. "I should've known."
"What's a good-looking guy like you doing out here all alone?" he asks.
Any other day, Wonwoo would have lost interest after such a basic line, but today, he feels like making new friends, maybe even a little more. Anything to forget Mingyu.
"Got abandoned by my friends."
A little dramatic, sure, but it's better than having to explain that he's afraid of the dance floor and that his limbs stop listening to him the moment he's forced to move along to the rhythm, even if Chan tries to guide him.
Hosung chuckles, the sound carrying nicely through the air and settling into Wonwoo's chest as a nice warmth.
"Then we're in the same boat," he says, pointing to a group of people laughing obscenely a little up ahead in the grass, not a care in the world. Wonwoo can make out a few silhouettes, but he doesn't let his eyes linger for long enough to actually register them.
"You know," he continues, diverting Wonwoo's attention back to his face. It's a nice face to look at, that much Wonwoo can make out. He can't make out the intention behind his eyes yet, though, so he stays wary. "I've been wanting to talk to you for a while."
"Why?"
"Why?" he echoes, seemingly amused by the question. "You don't even know how charming you are, do you?"
It's now Wonwoo's turn to be amused. "You think I'm charming?" he asks, cocking his brow.
"Oh, come on, Jeon. You've got that mysterious vibe to you that makes people go crazy. Nice to everyone you pass, but still keeping a distance to not make them misunderstand. Looks cold, but once you talk to them, they turn out to be a really nice person." He shrugs. "You know, that vibe."
"Do I, now?" he laughs, head leaning back onto the wall behind him as he looks at the other. Yeah, maybe he's enjoying this a little too much. It's been a long time since he's gotten this type of attention.
Hosung takes a step closer, one hand tentatively coming up and brushing a hair behind his ear. "And you're the most beautiful guy in our year."
Okay, his intentions are pretty clear now: a nice fuck, maybe breakfast after, maybe even more. Wonwoo can go along with that, why not? He'll indulge for today, and if it turns out to be a bad choice, he'll just blame it on the few drops of alcohol in his system, though he knows they're not affecting him. He's fully sober, the only thing clouding his mind the imminent heartbreak looming over him.
He lets his hand run up his arm, stopping to rest on his buff shoulder. "You're not too shabby yourself."
"I'm flattered," he smirks, long forgoing the shy front he put up earlier. His hand drops down to hold onto Wonwoo's waist, a comforting pressure as he whispers the next words centimeters away from his lips, "Want to talk somewhere more private?"
Wonwoo nods, Hosung grabbing onto his hand and whisking him away to inside the house again, weaving his way through waves of people. Right before they can get to the stairs, he gets stopped by who he assumes is one of his friends.
"Dude, have you seen Hana?" the friend (friend? Hosung doesn’t seem too happy to see him) asks, unmistakably drunk.
"I'm not my sister's babysitter, Yoonho. She's probably there or something," he says, nodding his head to a random group of people.
Wonwoo makes the mistake of following the gesture with his eyes, spotting a familiar figure as he scans the room. Way too familiar.
Mingyu's standing in the corner, drink in one hand and a girl clinging to his other arm.
"Yo, bro, isn't that her?" Yoonho—apparently—says, slapping Hosung on his arm and pointing to the girl Wonwoo just noticed. "With Kim Mingyu?"
"Good for her." He shrugs, disinterested. Then he takes a step forward, clearly trying to escape the conversation.
"Apparently, someone saw them making out in a club some time back."
"Dude shut up," Hosung groans, face scrunching up in disgust. "I don't need to know what my sister gets up to."
Wonwoo does. Wonwoo desperately wants to hear what happened next, but he fears that he already knows the truth.
All the events are starting to line up in his head, and when he looks over once again at the two of them only to see her reaching out a steadying hand and taking his cup from him when Mingyu stumbles in all his clumsy Mingyu-ness and laughing together when he regains his balance, the pieces fall into place.
She's the person Mingyu likes. The person who takes care of him. The person he wants to spend every second with. The person he loves.
Kim Hana.
Not Jeon Wonwoo.
He feels like he's just been punched in the stomach, and to make matters worse, when he looks over again, her hands snake over Mingyu's broad chest and around his neck, pulling him into a kiss, to which Mingyu happily obliges.
"I'm kind of in the middle of something, man," Hosung concludes, and then he lifts Wonwoo's hand to show him before walking up the stairs, Wonwoo following behind him.
He can't help himself, so he looks back one last time at the happy pair across the room. When he does, they're already separated, much to his surprise—he knows how long Mingyu can kiss without getting bored. His eyes meet those of Mingyu's, and for a moment, time stops.
Just like in that shitty movie he watched a few months ago, time stops and everything but Mingyu fades into the background. He looks at him and he looks back, and it's like they're having a full-blown conversation through looks alone. Until Wonwoo feels his eyes well up and he looks to Mingyu's side, seeing Hana smiling happily while still holding onto his arm and Mingyu's arm wrapped around her small waist.
They make a good couple.
A tear almost rolls down his left cheek, but he quickly blinks it away, and then time resumes like it never even stopped to begin with. Hosung leads him to an empty room, locking the door behind them before he crowds Wonwoo against it.
Wonwoo vaguely feels his back press against the door and Hosung's hands on him, but he can't bring himself to respond, much less reciprocate.
Hosung must notice, because he peels back. "Everything okay?"
"I'm sorry," is all Wonwoo can mutter out before his lip starts trembling and the tears fall out of his eyes, no way to stop them.
"Hey, hey, it's all good," he tries, but all he can do to comfort him is hold on to him and slowly sink down to the floor as Wonwoo's legs lose all power, preventing him from falling down harshly.
He doesn't try to get closer, just sits down next to him against the door as Wonwoo lets it all out, even if he'll die of embarrassment when thinking back to this the next day.
It's the pure absurdity of the situation that pulls him out of it a minute later, breath steadying to an extent and eyes clearing up.
"Wow, sorry about that," he chuckles dryly, voice still a little shaky. "So much for that cool and mysterious vibe, huh?"
Hosung smiles, his hand carefully reaching up to grab Wonwoo's glasses and clean them with the fabric of his shirt. "I think this vibe is even more intriguing."
"God, this sucks," Wonwoo sighs, head falling down into his hands. "You seem like such a nice guy. I wish I could like you, but—"
"You're hung up on someone else.”
"Yeah. Something like that."
"I figured."
"Sorry."
Silence.
"Should we leave?" Hosung speaks up after a minute of letting the conversation simmer, handing him his now clean glasses. "I mean, it's not like we're going to do anything."
"Yeah, probably," Wonwoo murmurs, getting up and brushing his hands on his pants before reaching out a hand to help Hosung up. "Do I look like I just cried?"
"A little." He chuckles, a hand brushing down a few stubborn hairs. "You're still very pretty, though."
The words sting because he knows he means them. There's no uncertainty to his words, no doubting that he's thinking about someone else. Maybe in another life, he and Hosung would've been something. Maybe in another life, Wonwoo wouldn't have fallen for his best friend.
In this life, though, Wonwoo did, and he's dreading the sight he'll encounter going downstairs.
"I'm sorry, Hosung," he says once they're in the upstairs hallway, door once again closed behind them. "You deserve someone better."
"No need to apologize. I hope things work out for you. I'll see you around, maybe?"
He probably won't. Wonwoo figures it's not the best idea to become friends with the brother of Mingyu's love of his life. Then again, it's not Hosung's fault, so who knows?
"Yeah. I'll say hi when I see you at school."
"You won't," he laughs, no resentment in the sound and smile charming as ever.
"Probably."
Hosung takes one final step closer, hand traveling to Wonwoo's neck and peeling off the band-aid. "This came loose," he says, handing it to him.
"Thanks." His cheeks heat up. "It was nice meeting you, Hosung."
"Likewise, Wonwoo."
He walks down the stairs, broad shoulders disappearing into the crowds as he rejoins the party like nothing ever happened.
Wonwoo walks into the bathroom, hoping to find a trash can to throw away the sweaty band-aid. It's not like it was covering much, anyway, he realizes once he looks into the mirror and takes a look at his appearance.
Hair a mess, eyes swollen and tip of his nose red, maybe even redder than his neck. He really should stop letting Mingyu leave marks. He really should stop Mingyu in general.
Speaking of the devil, the door swings open without knocking, and as Wonwoo turns his head to look at the intruder, he's met with the person he least wants to see this night.
"Did he leave those?" Mingyu asks, arms crossed as he leans against the door, preventing Wonwoo from leaving.
"Why do you care?"
"Just answer the question."
"First off, none of your business," he bites back. "Secondly, go away. I'm sure you have better things to do than to be seen with me."
"Hyung, what's wrong? I thought we were good," Mingyu tries, voice softer this time, but the fact that his lips have the slightest trace of lipstick on them rubs Wonwoo in all the wrong ways, only fueling his anger.
"We were never good, Mingyu. We were just pretending to be good."
Wonwoo hadn’t wanted to admit it for the longest time, but it’s true. Between all the nights and lunches spent together, nothing was actually resolved. Pushed to the side, that’s what it was. Mingyu never even told him the full story of why he started ignoring him, even if Wonwoo can piece it together himself.
Mingyu reaches out a hand—the same hand that was around Hana's waist—but he's quick to shove it away, not wanting to give in to his touch. It's happened one too many times already.
"What is your problem, man?"
"You," he all but shouts, voice bouncing off the walls of the small bathroom. "You are my problem, Kim Mingyu. You are fucking everywhere. These are yours, you moron," he says, pointing to his neck. "I'm pretty sure I'm wearing a stupid shirt of yours because you keep insisting on it and I can't even go to a party anymore to try and forget you because—surprise surprise—here you are, ruining my day."
Mingyu stumbles back at the words, but there's no place for him to go, the door rattling under the pressure of his body being pressed against it.
"I can't even fuck another guy because I'm too busy thinking about you while you're out there with the love of your life," he sighs, exasperated, because he is. His anger had died down the second he saw hurt flash in Mingyu's eyes and all he's left with now is pure exhaustion and frustration.
"Hyung—" He steps forward, trying to reach out to him. Wonwoo spots his ideal moment to escape and manages to bust open the door and escape into the hallway, giving him a little more room to breathe.
"Leave me alone. I'm sure Hana is waiting for you to take her home."
Mingyu flinches at the mention of her name. Of course he does, just to rub it in his face that Wonwoo's guess is correct. He really is more cruel than he had once thought possible. It makes the thing he's about to do a little easier.
"Whatever this is," he begins, gesturing between the two of them, "it's over. We can't do this anymore. I can't do this anymore."
"Please, hyung. Give me a chance to explain."
Just so he can break his heart a second time as he reveals what Wonwoo already knows? No, thanks.
"I hope you two are happy together."
The waver in his voice betrays him, but in a weird way, it's fitting. Wonwoo can't even be angry at him properly, the love—because there's no other word to describe it, really—he feels for him bleeding into every single one of his actions.
Mingyu follows him down the stairs, even as he ventures through the crowd to find his friends. A few times, he manages to brush Wonwoo's hand, but he never succeeds in stopping him, and for once, Wonwoo is grateful to all the people around him.
Luckily, he finds them pretty smoothly, and Chan seems to sober up immediately at the sight of him, leading him through the crowd and outside, Seungcheol glued to his back. A few feet behind, Mingyu is still on his trail, the call of his name undying on his lips.
Once they're outside, Seungcheol whips around, pulling Wonwoo behind his back—even if Wonwoo still peaks up, the few centimeters he has on him unable to suddenly disappear. "Don't you think you've done enough already?"
"Don't act like you know what's going on," Mingyu snarls, still trying to get closer to him, to reach behind his back and grab onto Wonwoo.
"I know it hurts to see my friend like this over some asshole who can’t keep his feelings in check." With one hand, he manages to push Mingyu back by a few feet. "Don't test me, Kim Mingyu. I've had it up to here with you."
By the tone of his words and the way his shoulders tense up, Wonwoo's sure that even Mingyu gets the hint. His words are final, no room for discussion.
As if the universe wasn't already satisfied with this tragedy, the powers above decide to up the drama just a little more, because, while they're at it, why not go completely batshit crazy?
A few seconds later, while everyone is frozen to the ground, two people walk out the front door, spotting the debacle.
One of them rushes to Mingyu's side. "Oppa! Are you okay?"
Of course it had to be her, of course. Who else could it be but Kim Hana, the source of all his problems?
The other of the two makes his way towards him, even if Seungcheol steps in front of him defensively at first. Wonwoo lets him know it's okay, and he takes a step back, albeit begrudgingly.
Hosung only has to raise his eyebrows and look between him and Mingyu, and all Wonwoo has to do is nod, a silent understanding between the two of them.
"Hyung. Wonwoo-hyung," Mingyu tries one last time, his voice barely audible above the noise of the party seeping through the exterior walls of the house and the fussing of Hana at his side.
Wonwoo pays him no mind, no matter how feverishly his heart aches, turning his back and walking to the car, Chan and Seungcheol on either of his sides.
It's not until they're safely out of sight and into the car that Wonwoo speaks up, voice trembling, volume that of a whisper.
"I'm a fucking fool."
---
Needless to say, he spends the night at Seungcheol's, along with Jeonghan and Chan. Not a lot of sleeping gets done, seeing how he spends almost the entire night recounting the events that led up to this.
"I'm gonna kill him the next time I see him," Jeonghan grits through his teeth once Wonwoo's done.
Chan had started drifting off to sleep on his shoulder when he reached the part about Hosung, but the second he hears Jeonghan's voice, he lifts his head, agreeing sleepily.
"It's my fault for starting this mess in the first place."
"How were you supposed to know it would come to this? You were just trying to get your friend back, who—may I remind you—had been acting like an asshole before that."
"You know, I think I understand that hyung and then he goes and does shit like that," Chan sighs, his head finding its place back on Wonwoo's shoulder. "I've never even seen him speak to Hana-noona."
"You know her?"
"She was part of the freshmen-welcoming program. I know I shouldn't say this, but she's really sweet."
Wonwoo sighs. Of course she is. Of course she's an angel. Just fucking peachy.
"Guess it runs in the family."
"Can't you just run off with that Hosung guy somewhere? He'd treat you right."
"And what? Romantically elope and leave behind all their responsibilities? This isn't a fairytale, Han," Seungcheol, the voice of reason in the group, speaks up in his stead.
He's right. Wonwoo knows he is. It doesn't stop his heart from hurting, though. Life could've been so much easier if it weren't for Mingyu, if it weren’t for him being an idiot and falling in love with his friend.
A silence falls over them for the first time that night. Everyone's tired, even Jeonghan, who wasn't even at the party. Chan's snores are starting to fill up the room again and Wonwoo takes it as a sign to wrap it up.
"Can I stay here for tonight?" he asks softly. "I don't feel like going home."
There are three possibilities if he goes home. One, Mingyu is home alone and he'll want to confront him—something Wonwoo is absolutely not ready for. Two, Mingyu is home but not alone, lying in bed with someone who isn't him, and he doesn't feel like listening to them making love all night through the thin walls of their shared apartment. Three, Mingyu isn't home, and Wonwoo doesn't have to think much about where he'd be spending his night.
"Sure," Seungcheol says, getting up from the couch and draping a blanket over Chan.
"You can take my bed," Jeonghan offers as he cleans up the coffee table littered with empty snack wrappers. "I'll just sleep in Cheol's room."
Seungcheol quirks a brow, but accepts his fate nonetheless. "Stay however long you want. Sunday as well, for the whole of next week, I don't mind."
---
Chan, Seungcheol and Jeonghan are practically glued to his side for the rest of the week. Saturday, when they're working, Chan makes everything a two-person job, even things as simple as putting a pastry on a plate. Luckily for him, it's a busy day, which leaves him with no choice but to put all his focus into work, his mind not even having the time to wander. Jeonghan comes by right before closing time and hangs out with them until they're ready to leave the café.
Even Chan, who can perfectly sleep in his own dorm, stays over for another night, and when Sunday comes around and Chan and Seungcheol have to leave for work without Wonwoo, Jeonghan accompanies him to his apartment.
There's no way Mingyu's home right now, always in the gym on Sundays with Seokmin and Minghao, which is why he decides to go in and grab a few changes of clothes, his bag and his laptop.
He knows he can't keep avoiding him, but he'll try his damned hardest to buy himself time to organize his thoughts—not like they need much organizing in the first place. Wonwoo likes Mingyu and Mingyu likes someone else; it's as simple as that. It's the part where he has to explain that to Mingyu without crying or thinking about how stupid he's been that's difficult.
"Wonwoo-yah," Jeonghan calls out from the living room, "ready to go?"
After making sure that he's got everything he needs to get through the week, he leaves his room, but on his way to the living room, he spots a container on the kitchen counter. His curiosity gets the best of him and he moves closer to inspect it, finding a little yellow note on top the lid.
2 minutes
don't burn your tongue
Written in big letters, but what catches his attention is the smaller piece of text in the bottom corner of the paper, barely legible.
please stay
Almost exactly like two months ago, except now the roles are reversed. Wonwoo is the one who can't face Mingyu, not the other way around. They're back to step one.
Jeonghan peaks from behind the corner. "Won, ready?"
He hums, turning around to face the older, a pitiful smile on his face. "Let me just put this away."
"I'll wait for you downstairs, okay?"
He could just leave like this. Nobody's stopping him from doing that, but his heart tugs at his conscience, preventing him from taking a step further. He takes the discarded pen from the counter and quickly jots down something before he stores the container in the fridge.
I need time
---
This isn't Mingyu's fault.
Wonwoo knows that.
Falling in love with someone isn't a sin. It happens at the most unexpected of times—believe him, he knows—and it's not something you can control, no matter how hard you try.
Rationally, there's no reason for him to be mad at Mingyu.
Wonwoo also knows that.
His friends tried warning him, but he was too stubborn to listen.
He only has himself to blame.
Then can somebody please tell him why he feels like crying every time Seokmin so much as glances in his direction while they’re studying, skillfully skidding over the topic of Friday night? When Soonyoung so much as walks in his direction? When Mingyu sends him an attempt at a smile from the table he sits at—Wonwoo with Chan, Seungcheol and Jeonghan, Mingyu with a few of their other friends—his eyes lagging behind, not creasing in the way Wonwoo's grown so used to?
“Hyung,” Seokmin says Wednesday, at the end of one of their tutoring sessions, "if you're not willing to talk to Mingyu, at least talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."
"I'm sure you already know what happened."
Mingyu's never been the best at keeping things to himself. It's only a matter of time before everyone knows—that's if they don't already. Maybe that's why everyone, including Seungkwan and Junhui, has been looking at him weirdly all week.
"I know what happened, not why it happened."
Why? Because Wonwoo is a fool, that's why. Because Mingyu didn't go along with his sugarcoated delusions he himself caused, thanks to his honey-sweetened voice and love-laced actions.
"Remember when you pulled Mingyu aside? I overheard your conversation in the classroom."
For some reason, he doesn't look as surprised as Wonwoo expected him to be.
"And?"
"You were wrong." His voice is small, almost a whisper, like he's telling this to himself instead of Seokmin.
Wonwoo should've been the one getting pulled aside. Wonwoo should've been the one getting scolded. Wonwoo's the one who's in too deep.
"I don't think I was completely wrong." He slings his bag over his shoulder as they walk to the exit of the library. "Both of you are hurting; that's where I was wrong."
Wonwoo freezes.
"Talk to him, hyung. This is all just a big misunderstanding, I'm sure of it."
He walks past him after a single pat to his shoulder, leaving him to ponder his words.
---
Of all things this week, the thing Wonwoo least expects is for Hosung to walk up to his table during lunch break on Friday. He politely greets the others at his table—the same star-studded lineup as other days—before turning to him.
"Sorry for interrupting. Can I talk to you?" he asks, deep voice hushed to keep others from hearing. Silly, like his grand stature doesn't automatically draw attention to him.
"Sure," Wonwoo answers and gestures for him to sit down, still a bit taken aback by the fact that he's actually talking to him and that Friday wasn't some weird fever dream. That'd surely make things easier.
"Somewhere more private, maybe?"
The words cause a strange sense of déjà vu, taking him back to that night, and he's sure that the shock can be read off of his face, judging by how Hosung immediately starts backtracking.
"No, wait, not like that, I swear—" He takes a breath, turning to his tablemates, who are all looking on in a mixture of fascination and astonishment. "Sorry, I'm not usually like this."
"No, no, sunbae, just pretend like we're not here," Chan jokes, easing the tension. Seungcheol slaps him on his shoulder, a signal for him to shut up, one that Chan thankfully understands.
Wonwoo decides to put him out of his misery, standing up and leading Hosung away from their table. Once they've found shelter from curious eyes—and believe him, there were many coming from the other table—and settled down on a small bench outside, Hosung seems to relax.
"Okay, so, don't call me weird or anything, but I've been watching you this week—wait that sounds weird. Call it force of habit or whatever, but I notice you, a lot, since—you know—I like you and all and—"
Fine, maybe not that relaxed after all.
"Hosung," Wonwoo laughs, putting a hand on his knee. It's like he's a completely different person from the one he saw at the party. "Calm down, please. I won't judge you."
Another deep breath is forced out of him, and then he tries another time, carefully thinking about each word as he says, "Look, I don't know what happened between you and Mingyu, but I feel like it's my fault somehow."
"Why would it be your fault?"
"He came up to me yesterday and asked me if I liked you. With puppy eyes and a pout and everything."
He gestures to his face, vaguely trying to reconstruct Mingyu's expression, and if the cogs in Wonwoo's head weren't too busy turning to try and comprehend why Mingyu would act like that, he's sure he'd laugh.
"Mingyu asked you that?"
Hosung nods. "I think he's jealous of me."
As far as Wonwoo remembers, Mingyu was the one snuggled up to and kissing the love of his life that night, not Wonwoo, because the love of his life was a little too busy with other people, always has been. Why would he be jealous of his failed attempt at a rebound?
"What about your sister?" Wonwoo asks, because throughout all of this, she's the biggest question mark, the wild card.
"Hana? Suddenly?"
Not exactly 'suddenly' if Hosung's following the flow of the conversation, but Wonwoo understands. This is already confusing for him, let alone for a bystander.
"Aren't she and Mingyu a thing now? I mean, they looked pretty close at the party."
And Hosung scoffs, eyes popping out of their sockets as he tries—and miserably fails—to contain his dismay. "Her and Mingyu? No way."
"I saw them kissing."
"And I saw her crying because, according to her, Mingyu doesn't like her back."
"What?" His voice is louder than expected, nowhere to hide from his confusion. "That can't be true."
Hosung shrugs, holding up his hands defensively. "Hey man, don't shoot the messenger. I'm just telling you what I know."
Right. Wonwoo should be thankful that Hosung's telling him this in the first place. If he were in his position, he's not sure he would be brave enough to help his crush out.
"You're way too nice for your own good. Has anybody ever told you that?"
"God, don't do this to me," he groans, hiding his face in his hands. "I'm trying to get over you."
"I know I told you this already, but I'm sorry about what happened."
He doubts it'll be of any consolation, but he can try.
"And I already told you that you don't need to apologize." He gets up from his seat, towering over Wonwoo as he reaches out his hand. "I want you to be happy, and if that's with Mingyu, then so be it."
"I'm sor—"
"No more of that. Come on, it's almost time for class."
Wonwoo accepts the helping hand, letting himself be pulled up.
"I'll see you around, maybe?" he asks, more sure than Hosung sounded the last time those words were uttered.
There really is no better way to end the conversation.
Hosung laughs.
"Yeah," he mutters, letting go of his hand.
"You have full permission to punch me if I ever don't say hi to you."
"And I better see you walking hand-in-hand with Mingyu the next time I spot you or I'll start fighting for you."
Wonwoo doesn't think it'll work. His heart is set on one person only, no matter how nice Hosung may be.
The winner of the duel is already decided.
---
He doesn't know what exactly drives him to do it—maybe it's Seokmin's plea, maybe it's his conversation with Hosung, maybe it's his heart leading the way—but when Wonwoo closes up the café on Saturday, his feet lead him to his apartment, not Seungcheol and Jeonghan's.
He gets a few questioning looks from Chan and Seungcheol, but he gives them an assuring nod in return, and they let him go without any further fuss. They know he'll reach out if he needs to.
It's not like he can keep hiding forever. One moment, rather sooner than later, he has to face his feelings, face Mingyu.
When he enters the apartment, all the lights are turned off, and for a moment, he considers turning back, but he wills himself to continue. If it weren't for Mingyu's keys on their kitchen table, he would think the apartment is empty. Fortunately for him it isn't, and it doesn't take much thinking for him to figure out where Mingyu might be.
He steps onto the small balcony connected to their living room, shivering as the cold air hits his face. Without words, he sits down next to Mingyu, who's crouched onto the ground, looking out to nothing.
"You'll get cold," he says, not even bothering to turn to him, like caring for Wonwoo is his second nature, no thought needed.
"You're one to talk."
It's true: Mingyu sitting down on the floor in nothing but a light t-shirt and a pair of shorts is practically him begging the universe to give him a cold.
Cold.
That's the only word Wonwoo can use to describe the situation right now, and he's not only talking about the weather.
It's Mingyu's demeanor, his body language, the way he's staring off into the distance, no spark in his eyes.
It's the silence between them for several minutes.
"What happened to us, hyung?" Mingyu finally asks, turning his head to face him.
It's the single tear rolling down his cheek as he speaks, the waver in his voice, the tremble in his hands as he reaches one out and tentatively—almost trepidly—links his pinky with Wonwoo's.
"I got greedy."
That's it.
At the core of it all, this is a story about greed.
Give Wonwoo a pinky and he'll want the whole arm in return. Give him his friend back and he'll want a lover in return. Give him everything he's ever wanted and he'll want impossibly more.
"I hooked up with Hana. About two months ago, when I was ignoring you."
It’s the tone of his words, cold enough to make him freeze up, to let a chill take over his heart as he confirms Wonwoo’s biggest fear. At least he has the mercy to make it quick, doesn’t drag it out for any longer. Cruel mercy, but mercy nonetheless.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me."
Whether he's saying this to reassure Mingyu or to protect his own heart? No idea.
"I do. Please, just"—his other fingers come up and slot in between Wonwoo's—"hear me out."
Wonwoo swallows, braces his heart.
"I hooked up with her because I was desperately trying to get my mind off of something. I'm sure you can understand the feeling."
There's no denying that. He knows he saw him with Hosung, the exact same plan in his mind.
"But—and I need you to believe me—nothing more happened between us after that. I promise."
"What about last week then?" Wonwoo hates the way his voice quivers as the question comes out.
"Would you believe me if I told you I was protecting her from another guy? This one guy was bothering her the entire night, so she asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend. I mean, a few people had already seen us together, so it would make sense."
Of course Mingyu just has to be the sweetest guy ever. The minute he thinks he's discovered a flaw in him, he goes and rights his wrongs and Wonwoo's left with nothing but admiration in his chest for the younger.
"So, she's not the person you like?"
It was pretty clear already from what Hosung said, but he needs the confirmation, needs to hear it fall from Mingyu's lips.
Mingyu shakes his head, biting his lip and scooting closer to Wonwoo. "No. I do like someone, though. They're nice, they take good care of me—"
"Mingyu," Wonwoo pleads. He can't handle another heartbreak.
“They have this mesmerizing laugh—one where their nose scrunches up and their eyes turn small and they throw their whole body back. God, hyung,” he continues, plunging the sword deeper into his chest the more affection drips from his eyes as he gushes over his crush, “it drives me crazy, makes me never wanna stop making them laugh.”
“They sound like a nice person,” Wonwoo forces out, because Mingyu is his friend in the first place, and he should be happy he’s found love, even if it isn’t with him. It doesn’t help the way the words leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.
“They are,” Mingyu sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame that he can be extremely dense at times.”
“Hey”—he nudges his shoulder, resisting the urge to stay pressed against him—”that’s no way to talk about the person you like.”
His eyes find Wonwoo’s as he moves even closer, thighs brushing against each other, sending a flash of warmth through Wonwoo’s frigid body. “So, so, so fucking dense,” he sighs again, this time laced with more frustration than anything else. “It’s you, hyung.”
“What?”
He must’ve heard wrong. There’s no way. He avoids Mingyu’s burning gaze, looking anywhere but him, hoping to hide the storm in his mind.
“I like you. Have liked you for such a long time.”
Wonwoo’s brain short-circuits.
"What about you ignoring me for a month, then?"
There's no reason to act like that with the person you like, right? Then again, it only takes a second before Wonwoo realizes it's exactly what he's been doing the entire week, maybe even longer.
"You know, at first I thought I could keep my feelings under control, but then, a few months ago, I had a...dream about you—about us." His hand turns clammy, but that's the last thing Wonwoo cares about right now. "I just couldn't bring myself to act normally around you."
"So what? You just decided to cut me out of your life?"
"I thought it would make my feelings go away."
"It didn't?"
"It didn't."
Fuck, this is really happening. This is not one of the possibilities he prepared for. Anything—even being forced to move out and change schools—but not this. Not Mingyu liking him back.
He tries to keep his voice as light as possible when he answers, not wanting to let on to the fact that his mind is crumbling down the longer he sits next to him. "Why didn't you just tell me, Mingyu?"
"I didn't want to ruin our friendship." His fingers slip out of his grasp, hand retracting to his side. “My feelings for you are ugly. Ugly and needy and greedy and possessive and jealous."
There's a beat where everything is quiet around them, the calming buzz of late evening settling in, the only thing audible to Wonwoo the blood rushing to his face, his heart beating out of his chest. It's still cold outside, but he can't help the way he burns from the inside out.
"I want you in ways I can never have you, hyung."
Mingyu doesn't even know the ways he'd allow him to have him, to let him be his.
Wonwoo keeps his eyes trained on his lonely hand, craving the warmth of Mingyu's bigger, slightly rough hand, the way it fits perfectly into his, like two pieces of a mold that, when combined, make a masterpiece come to life. His hand clenches around nothing, coming down on the cold floor beneath him.
"Then why'd you go and make me fall for you?" he asks. Softly, courageously, like he's baring his heart. He is; handing his heart on a golden platter to Mingyu, hoping, praying that he doesn't shatter it.
Mingyu's head perks up. "What?"
"Why'd you have to be so nice? Why couldn't you just let me be a quick, meaningless fuck and move on?"
"Because I like you." His hand strays from his side, loosely splayed out over the back of Wonwoo's. "Because I've dreamt of holding you close for so long that when it finally happened, I knew I couldn't let go of you ever again."
Wonwoo wills himself to look into Mingyu's eyes, searching for any type of dishonesty. There isn't any; there never is. The only thing he finds is Mingyu staring back at him with the intensity of a thousand suns, lips trying to contain a smile.
His free hand moves on its own accord, crossing the distance between them, ghosting over Mingyu's face, over the tiny crease between his brows, the mole decorating his left cheek, his plush bottom lip—so damn kissable, he doesn't know how he's never noticed before.
"Can I kiss you?"
"No."
The platter goes flying, shattering into thousands of shards, incapable of being reconciled. Wonwoo's heart sinks to his stomach, unsure if it'll ever be able to function as it should around Mingyu.
He retracts his hands shamefully, but Mingyu is quick to take them both into his palms, flaming-hot meeting ice-cold. "Not until we figure out what this is," he clarifies, bringing the hands up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the trembling knuckles.
"I want you back, Mingyu." He finds the strength within himself to answer in spite of his brain threatening to turn into putty. "Not just as a friend. As more than that."
"More than friends with benefits?"
"Way more. Wanna make you mine."
Mingyu smiles knowingly as he maneuvers Wonwoo's hands to rest on his shoulders. "Then make me."
Wonwoo doesn't need to be told twice. He locks his hands behind Mingyu's neck as he comes closer, closing the gap between the two of them. Despite the fact that he's kissed Mingyu more times than he can count, it still feels new. This is new, his feelings are new, they are new. Mingyu is still predictable, though, and Wonwoo still accommodates. When his head tilts left, Wonwoo tilts right. When his hand finds the small of his back, Wonwoo lets himself be hoisted onto his lap. When his tongue runs along his bottom lip, Wonwoo opens up, letting Mingyu taste him.
Mingyu's the first one to pull back, cheeks flushing and breath coming out in pants as he speaks, "You're freezing."
"Whose idea was it to sit outside in the cold, huh?"
"Hey," Mingyu says, mock-offended, softly pinching the skin where his hand travels under Wonwoo's sweatshirt. "I deserved my little angsty moment, okay? I've had a week."
Wonwoo chuckles, forehead finding Mingyu's. "We really need to work on our communication skills."
"We do," Mingyu whispers against his lips, eyes falling closed. "That can wait until tomorrow, though. Right now"—his hands trace the line where Wonwoo's waistband meets his skin—"there's a much more pressing matter."
He juts out his lips, and it's all he would need to feel Wonwoo against him if it weren't for Wonwoo planting a hand on his chest, the other on his arm, holding him in place as he leans back on Mingyu's lap.
"Why don't you take me inside first? Or are these muscles just for show?"
Mingyu makes something between an insulted and extremely aroused sound, Wonwoo laughing as he gets scooped up and escorted to Mingyu's bedroom, the younger not even breaking a sweat as he places him down on the mattress.
"Wanna show me what we were doing in that dream of yours?" he teases, propped up on his elbows as Mingyu wastes no time taking off his own shirt, throwing it somewhere in the corner for his future self to worry about.
"Well, first of all, you weren't wearing this."
His fingers take hold of the hem of his sweatshirt, lifting the fabric up as far as he can. When it reaches Wonwoo's arms, the other refuses to cooperate.
"Ask nicely," he says, cocky grin on his face.
Mingyu huffs, letting the shirt go so he can plant his hands on Wonwoo's shoulders, nudging him until he falls flat on the mattress. Within seconds, Mingyu's knees are on both sides of his hips, trapping him under him—not like he'd want to escape anyway.
Wonwoo lets him do his thing, satisfied with just watching as Mingyu's hands desperately look for something to hold, ultimately landing on his face like they always do.
"Hyung," he pouts, leaning down and placing a peck on Wonwoo's lips, "let me take this off, please? I'll warm you up in another way."
Wonwoo would've already given in any other day, but he's enjoying this a little too much right now. He wants to push it a little more, see how far Mingyu's willing to go.
"Nicely."
His kisses trail down to his jawline, to his neck, mouthing at the neckline of his sweatshirt. He looks up through his eyelashes, something dark dancing in his pupils as he whispers, "I'll make you feel good, hm?" One hand travels under the fabric, hitching it up before he leans down, pressing his lips right above his navel. "Pretty please?"
Wonwoo's hands tangle into his hair, pulling him up so he's back to eye level before breaking into a smile as he sees the look on Mingyu's face, full of longing.
"Mingyu."
"Hyung."
"I want you to tell me everything we did in your dream, walk me through it." Hands caressing his body, he slowly moves them until they land on his back, Mingyu shivering as his nails graze over his skin. "Can you do that for me?"
The intensity with which Mingyu nods almost causes him to headbutt into Wonwoo, but he reels himself back, making quick work of his sweatshirt and pants, joining the pile of discarded clothes.
A cold breeze hits Wonwoo's exposed skin as he lays back down, but Mingyu's unceasing hands run down his torso all the way until his fingers hook under his waistband, freeing him of his last piece of clothing.
"You were laying on my bed like this," he says, grabbing onto Wonwoo's wrists and pinning them above his head. "So pretty, hyung."
He places a kiss on Wonwoo's forehead before moving down, finding his lips and immediately licking into his mouth. Wonwoo can only comply, opening up and letting Mingyu in, letting him take over. Before long, he pulls back, unable to hide the grin blooming on his face.
"Then?" Wonwoo asks, slightly breathless already.
"Then I took my sweet time opening you up."
Wonwoo holds his breath as Mingyu leans over and opens his bedside table drawer, pulling out a small bottle and a shiny, plastic wrapper. He hears a cap opening—eyes long having fallen shut due to Mingyu's ministrations—and then he draws in a breath as he feels a finger circle his rim.
"Can I?"
Even if it's unnecessary in this moment—Wonwoo has already given Mingyu permission to do as he pleases, do everything he's ever wanted—he still asks. He always does. Considerate to a fault, that's his Mingyu.
"Yes," he manages to bring out, voice rough and cheeks heating up.
A second later, Mingyu slowly sinks his finger into him. Wonwoo's back lifts off the mattress, arching into the touch. He's especially reactive today, knows he won't last long with the way things are going.
Mingyu's other hand lets go of his wrists as he glues it to his waist, keeping Wonwoo in place as he starts growing antsy, rocking his hips back against his finger. He wants more, needs more.
A moan of his name is all it takes for Mingyu to add another digit to the mix, leaning down and lathering Wonwoo's neck with kisses and nips as he drives into him with his two fingers. Goosebumps run down Wonwoo's arms as he angles the fingers just right, hitting his bundle of nerves and making him squirm.
Mingyu's arm disappears from around his waist, and when he opens his eyes to check the reason, he's met with a heavenly sight. Mingyu's kneeling on the mattress, brows furrowed together and an expression of unmistakable concentration as his eyes are trained between Wonwoo's legs, where one of his hands is working him open. His other hand has slipped into his own shorts, stroking along to the steady rhythm he's setting, biting his lip to contain the sounds that threaten to spill out (not very effective, but it makes for a great visual nonetheless).
"Was me coming because of your fingers also part of the dream? If not, I may need you to stop," he tries to joke, but when Mingyu once again bumps into his prostate, his voice dies down into a breathy moan, hands flying down to grab at Mingyu's wrist.
Mingyu laughs, the sound choppy as he tries to catch his breath. He pulls his hand out of his shorts, trying to free himself from his last garments in one fell swoop, but his knee gets stuck on the elastic and causes him to lose balance, falling down onto Wonwoo's chest.
"Fuck, Mingyu," Wonwoo moans out, winded from both the impact and the way his fingers thrust even deeper into him. "Need more of you, please."
Mingyu scrambles to push himself up on one arm, elbow supporting his weight as he leans down and pecks Wonwoo's lips, pulling back before the other can properly react. "That was part of my dream. The begging part, not the falling part."
"I assumed," Wonwoo chuckles, hand brushing through Mingyu's soft locks. "Now, gonna be a good boy and give me what I want?"
Mingyu leans down a final time to kiss Wonwoo, this time a little longer, savouring the other's touch before he sits back on his heels, slowly pulling out of Wonwoo. He feels around for the condom wrapper, bringing it up to his teeth once he has it, but Wonwoo's quick to pull it out of his grasp.
"I told you to stop doing that," he nags, ripping open the packaging in his place. Once it's open, he holds out his hand to Mingyu, but he makes no move to take it from him.
His hands go to Wonwoo's thighs, pushing them further apart and settling snugly in the space between them. "Put it on for me?"
Wonwoo glares at him, but his annoyance dissipates the moment Mingyu smiles at him, eyes twinkling. "It happened in my dream."
He needs no further explanation, only sighs with no real frustration behind it as he runs his hand along Mingyu's length a few times before covering him, Mingyu letting out an appreciative moan.
"Please tell me the next step in your dream was fucking me or I might go crazy."
Mingyu doesn't answer, just lines himself up with Wonwoo's entrance as he seeks out his eyes, a silent question on his face. Wonwoo nods, pulling Mingyu down by the neck and smashing their lips together.
"Fuck me," he begs, the concern about being too needy long having been thrown out of the window. "Make me yours, Kim Mingyu."
Mingyu does exactly that. He pushes in at the words, only stopping once he's fully bottomed out. He grants Wonwoo time to catch his breath—of course he does—and when he gives a signal, he picks up his movement, pulling back until Wonwoo can only feel the tip to then slam back into him.
"Shit, hyung," Mingyu groans, head thrown back as his hands find refuge around Wonwoo's waist, pulling him against him in time with his thrusts. "So good. Feels so good. You're so good to me."
"Mingyu-yah," Wonwoo calls out, but he's not even sure why. Maybe it's his brain's way of telling him what he wants—who he's wanted for such a long time, even before this whole mess started.
Mingyu's response comes in the form of him leaning down into Wonwoo's neck, nipping at the skin as his thrusts grow in urgency, his skin muffling all sorts of profanities as he chases his release, hips incessant.
It's a little messy, probably going to be over too quickly, and a little less romantic than Wonwoo had thought, but, God, it's everything he could've wished for. This moment between him and Mingyu, in each other's arms, in each other's hearts. No more secrets keeping them apart, no more doubt that what he's saying is about him, no more guilt that Wonwoo's just a placeholder, keeping Mingyu from his true love.
It's rushed and imperfect and it's overwhelming in the best way, which is why he feels his eyes well up with tears. No way he's about to cry now, though, so he does the second best thing: wrapping his arms and legs around Mingyu and pulling him impossibly closer, whispering words of encouragement in his ear.
"Hyung," Mingyu whines, one hand coming up to wrap around his back, cradling him in his embrace, "not gonna last long."
"Me neither," Wonwoo hums, fingers tangling into the hairs at the nape of Mingyu's neck. "Close."
Mingyu's head cranes up, catching Wonwoo's lips with his and he kisses—more like an attempt at kissing—as he speeds up, Wonwoo drinking up his moans. He's still obscenely loud, though, and Wonwoo's pretty sure they'll get a strongly-worded letter from their neighbours tomorrow, but right now, he doesn't care.
All he cares about is the way Mingyu makes him feel, the way Mingyu's thrusting into him, the way his movement grows more pressing with every second that passes.
When Mingyu brings one of his hands between them and starts stroking Wonwoo in time with his thrusts, he knows he's a goner. It takes one, two, three tugs before he's spilling over into Mingyu's hand, who coaxes him all the way through his orgasm.
Before long, Mingyu's hips start stuttering, spurred on by Wonwoo's own pleasure, and then his orgasm hits him, voice rough as he rides through it.
His limbs turn into jelly, collapsing onto Wonwoo, who runs his hands down his back and absent-mindedly draws little figures into the skin as their chests heave from the effort.
It's silent for a few minutes, time spent simply basking in each other's glory, but Mingyu can't contain the smile that blossoms on his face as he pays attention to what Wonwoo's fingers are doing on the broad canvas of his back. Whether he’s aware of it or not, he’s tracing small, soothing hearts into his skin, from his nape to his shoulders to the small of his back.
Wonwoo may not be a man of many words; he sure is a man of action.
"As good as your dream?" he asks gently, the room suddenly feeling too intimate for anything above a whisper.
Mingyu looks up from where his head is resting on Wonwoo's chest, listening to his racing heartbeat.
"Almost. There was more in my dream."
"God, Mingyu," he groans, throwing a hand over his forehead. "Grant a poor man five minutes to recover, won’t you?"
Mingyu giggles, the vibrations warming Wonwoo up from within as he shakes his head, joy ever-present on his features. "You asked me to be your boyfriend in my dream."
Wonwoo smiles and he opens his mouth to say something, but he changes his mind at the last second. "Can we have this conversation when you're not inside me anymore?" he asks after a moment of deliberation.
"I think I love you."
It's not an answer to his question in the slightest, nor does he make any attempt to move away, but it still fills Wonwoo’s heart with a pleasant buzz.
“I mean, since the moment you welcomed me when you were wearing that stupid grey tracksuit and those stupid yellow socks, I think I’ve always known that you’d be more than just a roommate. I look at you and I’m just…overwhelmed in the best way."
The confession is so heartfelt—nothing but pure affection in his tone, his eyes, his smile—that it almost feels like it's not meant for this moment. Sweaty and freezing at the same time, Mingyu still buried in Wonwoo, both their stomachs covered, exhausted from the past week—physically and mentally—and Wonwoo has to consciously repress any sounds his stomach threatens to make due to his hunger, but maybe that's why it hits him ten times harder.
Mingyu loves him. Jeon Wonwoo. Not Kim Hana, not anyone else. Jeon Wonwoo.
Mingyu loves him and Wonwoo's pretty sure he loves him too.
"Mingyu, pull out," Wonwoo whispers, hand brushing back a hair in front of Mingyu's eyes.
He scoffs, the smile not leaving his face regardless as he pulls out and ties the condom, tossing it on the floor. Once again, a problem for his future self to worry about. "You're just going to ignore me pouring my heart out like that?"
"I never said that." Wonwoo pulls him up so that he's facing him, making sure Mingyu can read his face as he continues, clearing his throat. "Kim Mingyu, will you do me the honour of being my boyfriend?"
Mingyu squeals, honest-to-God squeals, eyes going wide and biting back a grin before he buries his face in the crevice of Wonwoo's neck.
"I'm guessing that's a yes?" Wonwoo chuckles, fingers threading through Mingyu's hair.
He nods excitedly against his neck before he pulls back, smile on his face that could blind Wonwoo if he wanted to. "Do you know why I never let you leave right after we're done?"
"Because you're extremely clingy."
"Okay, fair." Mingyu shrugs, holding the other even tighter. "I was waiting for you to ask me that question every time."
"I can't believe it took me this long to catch on."
"I don't know, man," Mingyu laughs, "I thought I was being pretty subtle that time I proclaimed my love for you, or that time I talked about my crush on you, or whenever I kissed you even if we weren't having sex, or when I almost kissed you when treating your hand, or when I—"
"Shhh, I get it. I can be a little slow at times."
"We got here in the end." He places a kiss on Wonwoo's cheek before he removes himself off him and reaches out a hand. "Come on, let's shower."
"No funny business in the shower, okay?"
"No promises."
Mingyu grins as he carries Wonwoo bridal-style to their bathroom—completely unnecessary, Wonwoo can still walk, thank you very much.
---
There was definitely funny business in the shower.
Wonwoo doesn't mind, though, not when Mingyu makes it up to him by placing him down on the kitchen counter once they've changed into their pajamas and whipping up something for him to eat.
Even if Wonwoo doesn't know all that much about cooking, he's sure it shouldn't take half an hour to make an omelette, but with Mingyu pausing every two seconds to settle between his thighs and kiss him, there's a logical delay.
"This also part of your dream?" Wonwoo jokes after Mingyu walks back to the cutting board for what feels like the tenth time since he's entered the kitchen.
"I don't just dream about having sex with you, you know?"
"Oh really?" he teases, toying with the drawstrings of his hoodie—one of Mingyu's—as his feet dangle over the counter. "Do tell me more."
Mingyu pouts, turning around once more and shaking his head. "You'll just have to figure it out yourself."
Wonwoo can't wait to find out.
---
"This is unfair," Chan whines a few weeks later as they're closing up.
"You set the conditions yourself."
"You set the conditions yourself," Chan mocks, purposefully making his voice lower. "You can't just walk in like this"—he points to Wonwoo's neck, beautifully splattered in reds and purples—"and then have Mingyu-hyung flirt with you right as we're about to close up."
Wonwoo shrugs, trying everything in his power to control the grin threatening to decorate his face. "I don't control what my boyfriend does."
"Hi there, pretty boy with the glasses who works behind the register," Mingyu chirps from behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Speak of the devil," Chan groans, glaring at Mingyu, who only pecks Wonwoo's neck in retaliation. "I liked it better when you two weren't dating."
He's lying. Chan was practically jumping with joy when Wonwoo broke the news to him. Everyone in their friend group was, even Seokmin and Soonyoung, who—despite their nagging and an hour-long lecture—looked significantly more relieved when they told them. Everyone's happy for them, Wonwoo knows, it's just that the circumstances that led them to each other were less than ideal.
"At least we don't have to listen to him pine for Mingyu anymore," Seungcheol chimes in, bag already slung over his shoulders, clearly ready to leave. "I wear an extra large, by the way," he says as he passes Chan, patting his shoulder before walking out, not sparing them another glance.
Wonwoo laughs. "Me too."
"Me too."
"You are not a part of this deal, Mingyu-hyung." Chan comes closer, picking up Wonwoo's bag along the way and shoving it into Mingyu's hands. "I'll take care of the rest in here, so please take your boyfriend home before I start going crazy."
Mingyu doesn't need to be told twice. He twists Wonwoo around, throwing his bag around his shoulder before lacing his fingers with his, pulling him out the building as they say their goodbyes to Chan.
The walk home is short and quiet, but it's grown to be one of Wonwoo's favourite moments in his short time of dating Mingyu. The way Mingyu comes over right before they close up, sticks around for a bit and mingles with his colleagues—even Seungcheol—and then, without fail, links their hands and walks him home. There's something so distinctly domestic, so distinctly Mingyu about it, that he hopes it continues for years to come.
"So, pining for me, huh?" Mingyu nudges his shoulder as they reach their front door.
Wonwoo's cheeks heat up, but he retorts nonetheless, "Like you weren't doing the exact same thing. I've heard Seokmin complain about it."
"What can I say?" As the front door is thrown open and Wonwoo is pulled inside, Mingyu throws his hands around his waist, dragging him into his embrace. "I was diagnosed with a bad case of lovesickness."
The only thing Wonwoo can do is smile. To receive so much love, to hold a creature capable of so much love in his arms, it's truly overwhelming. He doesn't know if he's allowed to have this.
From now on, though, he lets himself be greedy. Doesn't shy away, but takes and takes and takes until there should be nothing left to take anymore, but Mingyu replenishes and replenishes and replenishes, greedy in his own way. Greedy for each other's touch, each other's warmth, each other's love.
Greedy for each other.