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Wonwoo’s car is too silent. He picked it for this reason exactly, the newest model promising of less noise pollution. He’s getting enough headaches soon, he reasoned, no need to add to it with those roaring engines. At least not for his daily transport. If he needs to show off, he’s got other cars.
A silent car is a problem on a public port. People don’t scamper away from it, not like they would from cars who look and sound like they’re worth more than an average yearly wage. And it’s crowded today, paparazzi and protestors making the already packed roads impossible to navigate.
Whose idea was it again, to make a public departure? Private vacation, his ass. This is for publicity as much as anything.
“We’re going to be late,” Nayoung says from next to him. “Can you go any faster?”
“I’m sorry, miss,” their driver says, his voice apathetic. He’s not bothered they’re stuck in traffic. He’s getting paid by the hour. “I’m going as fast as I can.”
Wonwoo grabs her hand, reassuring. Even if they’re late, it’s fine. It’s not like the boat is leaving without him.
And it’s not like he’s the only one facing this predicament. He sees more cars in front of him, roaring engines and all, equally as stuck as him.
“I’m sorry you’re going through all this just to see me off,” Wonwoo tells Nayoung.
She squeezes his hand back. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect it would be like that, but what can you do.”
There used to be a time that Wonwoo tried to shield her from this world. A world of reporters hiding behind bushes, or members of opposing political parties rubbing their hands, waiting for a slip-up. A scandal. They’re long past the stage of shields though. Nayoung sealed her fate by his side the moment she first kissed him in public.
Today especially, after the conclusion of a long-awaited conference, the spotlights are burning.
The deal was good, at least for Wonwoo’s father’s side of interest. Wonwoo’s father’s, and everyone else’s taking part in that meeting Wonwoo was called to participate in. Maybe the fact that there is a crowd of people protesting for the environment right now speaks volumes about the actual conclusion of it, but that’s not Wonwoo’s battle to fight.
Wonwoo finally steps out of the car, keeping the door open for Nayoung. Like hawks sniffing out prey, reporters immediately descend on them. Wonwoo’s bodyguards are quick to take action, forming a circle and pushing flashing cameras out of the way. Wonwoo keeps his face even, his mouth shut. Again, not his battle. There’s only one reason he is in a public port in the first place.
“Mister Jeon, have you heard of the people’s reaction to the deal? What do you think of the protestors gathered here today?”
“Mister Jeon, you spoke on behalf of your father at the conference, does that mean your company is ready to switch hands?”
“Mister Jeon, do you think this private voyage is an appropriate way to celebrate a decision that will affect the economy so severely?”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes behind his glasses. He says nothing, years of media training making him not rise up to the bait. It’s never worth talking to people when you’re supposed to be on private time.
Not everyone gets the memo. The cars parked around Wonwoo’s are all teeming with bodyguards and family members of the conference participants. Some are speaking to the reporters gathered around them, doing damage control, apologizing. For what they’re apologizing, Wonwoo’s not sure.
“Come on,” Nayoung tugs his arm. “Your suitcases are all loaded up. Goodbye kiss?”
Wonwoo leans down and dutifully kisses her. It’s a demure thing, something that’s expected of him. He doesn’t kiss Nayoung like that when it’s just the two of them. The reporters around them briefly shut up to take their picture, and above the flashing of cameras, Wonwoo hears another person’s interview.
“This trip has been in the plans for a long time. It’s a reward for those who have worked hard during the conference to finally get some downtime. We all deserve a bit of vacation, don’t we?”
Idiot, Wonwoo thinks. As if the common people will ever recognize what they’re doing as a proper job. As if they’d ever stop scorning their fortune enough to realize they are regular people too. Despising the hand that feeds has become a personality trait nowadays.
“But Mister Kim, it was your father representing your company at the conference, no?”
“My father is a busy man. Wouldn’t you rather talk to me?”
Wonwoo turns his head at that, curious at the delivery of these words. He heard a smile in them, airy and sly, and he indeed finds one too. It’s easy to spot, as the man who wears it is quite tall. Dark glasses, the same brand as Wonwoo’s, are covering his eyes, but his face still looks dazzling. His whole appearance too, unbothered by the spotlight on him. Like a celebrity, someone who didn’t spend long hours locked away in meeting after meeting, finalizing details and skipping meals.
He’s not the only one who looks like this either. There were not many people of Wonwoo’s age at the conference, but the port is full of them now. Women in tank tops and high heels, men with intricate tattoos and unbuttoned shirts. It’s very obvious who this vacation is for, and it’s not the old generation.
“Take care, okay love? I’ll try to call, but don’t worry about replying if you don’t have signal,” Nayoung says.
“I’ll try to reply anyway,” Wonwoo brings her hand to his lips. “You take care too. I’ll see you soon.”
And with that, Wonwoo is shown to the ramp of the yacht he is spending his next week on.
~~~
“Welcome to Lady Vera,” a woman with a bowtie tells him once his feet stop touching ground. “May I have you name and ID?”
Wonwoo just hands her his ID. She scans over it and hands it back to him, smile never leaving her lips.
“This way, Mister Jeon. I’ll show you to your quarters.”
Lady Vera. Wonwoo didn’t read the name of the yacht before boarding it. He was busy examining it for stains, cracks to betray a less than perfect exterior. He found none. Even from the pier, the ship looked majestic. Its hull is a bold white, daring anyone to call it dirty. Even the boat bumpers appear freshly washed, not a hint of salt drying on them, despite almost touching water. The silver railing is shining too, reflecting the morning sun and blinding the passerby.
Wonwoo looks back at the pier as he walks the expanse of the deck. People are stopping in the stifling heat and humidity to take photos. It pulls a smile out of him.
Lady Vera is not a large ship. It’s not meant to be attention-grabbing, at least not in an obvious way. It still has two floors of lounges and bars, as well as the private quarters down its depths. A pool sits at the highest deck, while a garage and a wooden platform are located by the front, right above the surface of the water. A variety of water sports equipment is in there, in case someone feels particularly adventurous.
There’s motion around Wonwoo as he walks, some of his peers already settling in. They come up the staircase that he is going down, vaguely familiar faces from definitely familiar families. They wave at him and he waves back, as if they’re long-lost friends. The staircase leads to a long, carpeted hallway, dimly lit and silent. He never sees where the kitchen is located, but he can smell it working already. He wonders if his aversion to seafood has been passed along the chef.
“You’re right here, sir,” the lady with the bowtie shows him to a door. “All your things and other necessities for the trip should already be located in your room, but in case you need anything else, you can call someone from the intercom. We will be glad to bring you anything.”
“Thank you,” Wonwoo says, taking the card that was hanging from the doorknob. He slides it against a pad, and his door dings open. Holding it open with his foot, he takes out his wallet and gives the woman an appropriate tip. “That will be all.”
Wonwoo closes the door behind him, and he finally takes a breath. He lets his head hang, his shoulders droop a bit. A vacation. Imagine that. His head is still bursting with information that has already been relayed. Responsibility doesn’t seem to want to leave him. He suspects it will take a while, if ever.
The room he finds himself in is spacious. Not as spacious as some of the others he’s been at, but it’s carefully decorated to make the most of it. Carpeted, cozy, with the bedside lamps on and the shutters to the porthole shut. A wall made of mirrors. The room is large enough for a double bed, and even if the sheets are not silk, they look soft.
Nayoung would have instantly jumped on this bed. She would have tried pulling him along, and Wonwoo would have gone. He wouldn’t have known how to refuse, he hasn’t for a while now. He wouldn’t have had a good reason for it anyway, this is supposed to be a vacation. Couples on vacation are expected to fall in bed together.
Well, no point thinking about it now. Nayoung couldn’t make the trip anyway. For a week at least, Wonwoo won’t have to worry about his failing sexual drive. Maybe it’ll even get fixed here, if he finally gets himself to rest.
His suitcases are deposited by his bed, and Wonwoo pulls one open. He changes into something more comfortable than a pressed suit. No cameras will be on the yacht after all. He can technically go out there in his pajamas, as long as they are expensive enough.
Wonwoo doesn’t emerge from the berth until the engine starts to pick up. He feels movement below his feet, and that’s how he knows that everyone he needs to hide from is left behind on a public port with stale air.
~~~
It takes him half an hour to venture out of his room, just to make sure they have left land behind for good. He grabs a thin jacket, knowing how windy it can get out in the open sea even in the middle of the summer. There is a bunch of people on the corridor outside standing in front of open doors and talking, making acquaintances. It’s not often this happens, a bunch or wealthy people gathering together for a week. There must be 20 of them in total, all children of the conference participants.
Wonwoo ducks out of the way of anyone looking to approach him. It’s still too soon to be roped into friendship. This is supposed to be a luxury ship. At best, he wants to find something fun to do.
He walks around the decks for a bit, passes by the jacuzzi. Some girls are already in bathing suits, lazing around on the cushions surrounding the pool. Wonwoo eyes their sparkly, colorful drinks, and he thinks it’s in the spirit of vacation to start his day by drinking too.
To the bar it is then, the one on the first floor. He saw a couple of guys already drinking there. He won’t be out of place. Down the pristine stairs he goes then, to a floor steady below his feet even with waves breaking around them. It’s a calm ocean, but even if it wasn’t, Wonwoo suspects that this is an extra sturdy ship. Wouldn’t do to get its prominent guests sick.
The bar area is an open room, surrounded by glass walls with direct view to the sea. There are leather stools in front of a counter, a bartender already mixing drinks. Some men sit on those stools, but Wonwoo’s attention falls to a round table nearby. Deep dark mahogany, with a thick, green felt stretched over it. Smoke trays with lit cigarettes are placed right on top of it, mindless of staining it. The chairs are made of woven bamboo, plush lime cushions on them.
Five people are occupying this table. One of them is dealing cards.
The guy is still wearing his sunglasses, even if they’re not directly under the sun anymore. Wonwoo supposes it’s giving him an advantage when playing, and then he wonders why the others are letting him keep them on.
“Hi there,” Wonwoo greets the company, angled towards the head of the table. “Is there room for one more?”
They all turn to look at him, but it’s the glasses guy who speaks. “Depends. Are you any good at poker?”
“I’ve played once or twice before,” Wonwoo offers. He’s played a lot more than once or twice, actually. He’s played enough to know, even just looking at the match, that someone is a lot better at this than the others.
“Sure then, go ahead,” glasses guy smirks at him, scooting over to make an opening next to him. “You gotta grab your own chair, though. Make sure you’re worth it.”
Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek. He swallows down his ego and goes searching for a chair, carrying it all the way back to the table. He sits with his back straight.
“I’m Wonwoo,” he addresses the rest of the table.
“Taejin.”
“Jaewoon.”
“Minhyuk.”
“Joowon.”
“Mingyu,” the glasses guy is the last to add. “Hope you’re a gambler, Wonwoo. These guys don’t seem to get it.”
“Hey, man,” one of the others, Jaewoon, narrows his eyes at Mingyu. “You’re just getting lucky. No need to rub it in.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mingyu laughs, passing some marks over to Wonwoo. “But it’s true,” he whispers.
“It’s your glasses, probably,” Wonwoo says casually. “I suppose they’re your good luck charm, that’s why you haven’t taken them off yet.”
“Now that you mention it,” Joowon places his cards down. “Do take them off. I want to see the pretty boy eyes.”
Mingyu chuckles. “Do you think you can handle them?”
“Just get them off and deal, man.”
Mingyu sighs, long-suffering. He tilts his head towards Wonwoo, a fake pout on his lips. “Now, look what you’re making me do.”
Wonwoo shrugs. “Fair’s fair.”
It’s a bit dramatic, the way Mingyu pulls his glasses away from his eyes. He folds them over the dip of his shirt, a shirt that had a very low cut to begin with. Apart from being shady at poker, this guy looks like he has a premium membership to the gym.
Cards are dealt, and Wonwoo’s are not horrible. Two pairs. He’s not winning anything, but it might be worth gauging the others’ playstyles. He instantly decides he’s going to push.
“Mm, maybe the newcomer got all the luck on his side this round,” Minhyuk mutters, putting his cards down.
“Or maybe not,” Mingyu smiles down at his own.
Wonwoo tries to be subtle as he regards him. His eyes twinkle with mirth. It would have never been visible behind shades. Mingyu swipes the table with his gaze, his eyes crinkling as his smile widens. It instantly reminds Wonwoo of a cat that caught the mouse, and that is also an expression that would have stayed hidden a few moments ago.
There’s no way this man’s eyes are so expressive. He’s been winning before Wonwoo showed up, he’s overconfident. It’s a bluff. Without even looking at the other players, Wonwoo calls it.
Mingyu sets down his cards, a prominent three of a kind right at the top. Queens.
None of the others have any higher combinations.
“That’s quite the embarrassing first round for you,” Mingyu tells Wonwoo as he swipes a handful of everyone’s marks.
“It would have been the right time to bluff, after taking off your glasses,” Wonwoo throws his own useless cards away at the pile.
“I don’t need to bluff. You’ve already judged me as someone who can’t back up his words. And now look, I got your money.”
Wonwoo tries not to be visibly irritated. He’s not usually wrong, not about these things.
“Looks like you did,” he hums. “Sad way you’ve chosen to show off your skills though. Where were you during the conference?”
“On a different yacht,” Mingyu replies. He starts dealing cards again, the rest of them bid. “Why, did you attend?”
Wonwoo doesn’t need to reply. When trying to intimidate, it’s better to let actions speak louder than words. His cards are bad this time, but there’s no way he’s pulling out now. Some of the others do, but it’s almost as if they are part of a different game.
“You did, didn’t you?” Mingyu continues. “That would explain the dark circles. That won’t do, your Majesty, you need to focus if you want to keep your money.”
Mingyu spreads his cards on the table. Full house.
This time, Wonwoo is even more annoyed. Damn show-off.
Wonwoo turns to the bartender behind them. “Excuse me,” he calls. “Can I get a glass of Macallan No. 6?”
“Right away, sir,” the woman says, disappearing behind a wall. When she returns, she’s holding a glass of very expensive, very elegant whiskey. Wonwoo eyes it. Then he eyes Mingyu. He’s not the only who can show off here.
“Could you put ice in it?” he asks the bartender.
It’s worth it to see Mingyu’s eyebrows raise, out of the corner of his eye.
The bartender blinks. “…Ice, sir?”
“Yes,” Wonwoo smiles. “It’s a hot day today, isn’t it?”
“Sir, it’s… It’s a No. 6. It’ll get diluted,” the bartender tries, obviously holding back her horror. After all, who dares ruin such a fancy drink with frozen water?
One who can afford it on the regular, that’s who.
“You heard the man, sweetheart,” Mingyu pipes up, a slight smirk on his lips. “Go get him his ice.”
“Sir,” she bows deeply, immediately going to fix Wonwoo’s drink.
It feels like a victory.
“Thank you,” Wonwoo nods at Mingyu, picking up his cards again.
“Hm. One can’t account for taste,” is the amused reply.
Wonwoo reclines further back in his chair, cards held close to his chest. He’s determined to win at least one round, just to prove a point.
“Well, I’m out,” Minhyuk throws his cards on the table and gets up. “Don’t want to be part of a cock-measuring contest so early in the morning.”
“Pity,” Mingyu says, without looking up from his own cards. “Do come back, when you feel your cock is adequate.”
Wonwoo has to hide his smile behind his glass. He tells himself it’s because he’s the one with the full house this time, and not because he finds it amusing. Satisfying maybe, especially as the others start leaving one by one too, muttering about how unfun this game is turning. Wonwoo can’t say he agrees. He stays put in his seat, until it’s just him and his irritating opponent.
“You’re stubborn for not folding,” Mingyu tells him. “I’m going to keep calling you out on it.”
Again, Wonwoo doesn’t need to speak. He just reveals his cards.
Something weird happens then. Instead of souring, Mingyu’s smile widens. He sets his cards down, and he only possesses a measly pair of eights.
Their eyes meet.
“I’m getting a feeling we’re going to be here all day,” Mingyu says.
Wonwoo crosses his legs, proving his point by getting more comfortable. “I hope it’s not a bad feeling.”
“Au contraire,” Mingyu also leans back. He pulls a pack of cigars out of his pocket, encased in a silver box. He puts one between his lips, and it looks so damn expensive, but he lights it with a poor person’s match. He looks at him as he blows out the smoke, and Wonwoo supposes it doesn’t matter how the cigar got lit. It’s burning now.
“I’d like to try that whiskey of yours,” Mingyu says.
Wonwoo offers him his glass. Mingyu takes a sip.
“That’s so watered down, man,” he makes a grimace.
“I can buy you another if you want the authentic experience,” Wonwoo offers. Even if it’s supposed to be over now, even if he won a round. Something is keeping him rooted right where he is, wanting to keep showing off.
Mingyu chuckles. “I won’t say no to that. But only if you deal the next round.”
~~~
Wonwoo’s morning goes by far quicker than expected. It’s probably the combination of the early alcohol and the game he absolutely can’t slack off on. People come and go, eager to socialize and learn everything they can about all the new faces around them. Some join their game here and there, but nobody remains for more than a few rounds. They don’t actually care about the cards, they just want to introduce themselves.
On the other hand, the smoke of Mingyu’s cigar makes for a steady company. It’s not entirely unpleasant, the way the thing dangles off his fingers as they make small talk.
Wonwoo didn’t expect to find company here. Especially not so early on their voyage.
Mingyu is quite the talkative person. One would think he’s an open book, with how earnest he makes his stories sound. A clumsy, friendly guy, bright-smiled and kind-hearted. And maybe it’s true, maybe he is all these things, somewhere beneath all the media-trained exaggeration. A lie is always more convincing when based on a truth.
But Mingyu also keeps beating him in a game of insight and deception. And then, as if it doesn’t piss Wonwoo off enough already, he looks genuinely happy when Wonwoo manages to take a round or two back from him.
“You need to stop looking so pleased every time I beat you,” he tells Mingyu after sliding a particularly large chunk of marks back at his side of the table.
“The greatest warriors always long for the greatest opponents, no?” is Mingyu’s reply.
“Is this you pretending to be a warrior?”
“No. But I can still enjoy a good battle,” Mingyu sips his whiskey. “Especially one I’m winning anyway.”
Annoyance drips in Wonwoo’s stomach, like a molten candle. It paints his inside slowly, one burning droplet after the other.
He never liked getting challenged. When he was a child, he was uncomfortable at the possibility of losing. You need to be at the top of the game, his father always told him, so Wonwoo kept aiming for it. He tried and tried, and when the stakes were higher, he tried harder.
Gradually, the discomfort of losing started fading away. Then came a significant moment in his career, one that he can still recall with exceptional clarity. He doesn’t remember the battle, but Wonwoo looked around him after winning, and he didn’t find the determined faces of his peers. Instead, he found resignation. He found turned backs, an unwillingness to challenge anymore. Disheartened expressions, when they used to burn as bright as his. Wonwoo looked around him, and found himself alone at the top of the mountain they’ve all been climbing together.
Arguably, that was more uncomfortable than the possibility of losing.
Wonwoo soldiers on, though. He did so back then, and he does so now. Losing is annoying as ever, especially to someone who still enjoys it so richly. Wonwoo wonders briefly if Mingyu just doesn’t notice the disheartened faces around him.
It doesn’t matter, because Wonwoo doesn’t get disheartened. He loses a couple thousands probably, but his father didn’t raise a quitter.
He really doesn’t understand how time passes so fast. It’s probably a waste that he doesn’t once look out of the windows, at the endless blue stretching around them. The sun is glittering up the waters, golden and mesmerizing, but no. Wonwoo only takes his eyes off the game when Mingyu groans and stretches his arms behind himself.
“I’m starving,” he announces. “Wanna go see if the dining hall is open?”
Honestly, Wonwoo didn’t expect him to want to stick around.
“Have you become that fond of my company?” he asks, reaching over to pluck a cigar out of Mingyu’s box. He doesn’t ask. He’s lost enough money to this man already, might as well.
Mingyu merely raises an eyebrow at the thievery. “I didn’t realize you smoked.”
Wonwoo shrugs. He pulls out a handmade lighter, pilfered from his trips abroad. It’s shaped like a native statue, intricate carvings all around. Its eyes are adorned with real emeralds.
“Might have been even fonder of you if you took one earlier,” Mingyu briefly eyes the lighter.
“Wasn’t in the mood for it.”
“Are you in the mood for eating, your Majesty?”
Wonwoo smiles at him. This morning, he was so certain that he’d be eating alone today. He walked around the yacht, mentally scoffing at the people who were making friends in such a short amount of time. Pretentious all of it, that’s what he thought.
“I just recently came into possession of all this money, it’d be my honor to buy you food,” Mingyu’s lips twitch upwards.
Alright, maybe this is a bit pretentious too. Using Wonwoo’s own money to buy him food? Bastard. Wonwoo’s had the misfortune of meeting the one man on this ship who plays with his power the same way he plays poker. To win.
It’s quite unfortunate that Wonwoo likes him.
“I’m a picky eater,” he says instead of outright accepting.
“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” Mingyu slides his chair back. “What common food is too inadequate for your palate? Spicy? Chicken?”
“Seafood.”
Mingyu snorts. “In the middle of the fucking ocean.”
He walks over to Wonwoo, leaving their table a mess of cards and marks, a few paper bills here and there. Lucky, whoever gets to tidy it up.
“Your Majesty,” Mingyu offers his arm, as one would do to royalty.
Wonwoo rolls his eyes and walks ahead. Another drip of annoyance comes to burn his gut, a little puddle starting to form. Already taking up space inside him. Wonwoo firmly ignores it.
~~~
“Any other niche preferences I should know about?” Mingyu asks when they take their seats.
Opposite of each other this time instead of side by side, with a long, white clothed table between them. Three unlit candles are placed between them, as well as an array of real flowers. Wonwoo wouldn’t be too surprised if they always remain fresh and pristine, even while they’re nowhere near land.
“Impress me,” Wonwoo swirls a cup of wine a waiter rushed to provide them the moment they sat down. It smells fruity, like a champagne, even if it’s not supposed to be one. That’s an unfortunate sign of its quality.
There are other people seated in different tables around them, a glance at their emptying plates betraying a decent variety of lunch options. For a yacht in the middle of the ocean, that is. Wonwoo’s curious to see if Mingyu’s going to pick the seafood course, just to spite him.
“Good afternoon sirs, what can I bring you today?” the waiter returns, white gloves and a white apron worn like armor.
“We’ll take Chef’s Choice 3, for two people,” Mingyu replies for both of them. “The hazelnuts are caramelized for the desert, right?”
“Of course,” the waiter bows. “Any more of the complimentary wine, sirs?”
“No,” Wonwoo only speaks to decline, offering no further explanation.
Mingyu fails to stifle a smile. “I’d like a refill.”
As promised, the two starter dishes don’t take long to come.
“Brie Prosciutto Crostini with Honey drizzle,” the waiter sets a plate with four crackers between them. “And Boudin Blanc with Roasted Apples and Morel Cream Sauce.”
Wonwoo eyes the white sausages, but he only has a second to appreciate the decoration of the plate before Mingyu snatches a bite away.
“Mm, as good as expected,” he hums, talking with his mouth full. “Did you know I personally requested to have this dish available? My family’s butcher provided the meat and all.”
“In that case,” Wonwoo picks a small piece for himself. It smells sweet from the apples, the meat barely singed outside while remaining soft inside. “It’s you I’ll be judging for it, not the chef.”
“Can’t wait to see what you do when you find out you like it, then. In fact, I’d love to see your reaction when you realize you’ve liked everything about me so far,” Mingyu winks over his plate.
“Bold, aren’t we?” Wonwoo sips his mediocre wine.
“It’s what wins poker matches. Are you surprised?”
Wonwoo takes a prosciutto bite. Annoying, how it just doesn’t compare to the boudin. Irritating, but not unexpected. If Mingyu has bluffed at anything so far, Wonwoo still hasn’t caught him.
“And what happens when you run out of surprises?” he asks.
Mingyu signals at the waiter. “I get to the main course.”
The main course turns out to be Lamb ragu pappardelle and Steak tagliata with black olive and parmesan dressing. Both safe dishes, defense after attack. Wonwoo eats every bite like a general would read a map before sending their soldiers to war. Thoroughly, cautiously, but with a hidden sense of glee.
By the time the waiter sets down their desert, “Hazelnut panna cotta with chocolate ganache. Caramelized, as you asked sir,” Wonwoo is already full. It’s probably not from the food, but there is something stirring in his stomach, preparing him for a dance when there is no music. It doesn’t make sense, so Wonwoo eats his panna cotta.
He hasn’t had it with chocolate before. It’s not often that he tries new things, it’s less often that he likes them. He’s a man that knows his tastes and he doesn’t get blindsided. The panna cotta Mingyu gets him though, he has to concede, is just the right amount of sweet.
Mingyu downs the last of his wine as they finish eating, setting it gently by his plate to get picked up. He’s not as chatty when he’s fed, Wonwoo figures out. He looks content, comfortable in an unfamiliar dining room of an expensive private yacht. Wonwoo doesn’t even notice the waiter collecting their plates, in favor of observing him.
“I’m going to go sleep the alcohol off,” Mingyu says eventually. “I’d like to face tonight’s party with a fresh mind.”
“One glass of whiskey and a little wine got you affected?”
Mingyu grins. “Maybe it was the company.” A beat of silence. “Do come with me tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my vacation friend. I’ll be lonely without you.”
“Vacation friend?” Wonwoo raises an eyebrow.
“Uh huh. You’re the one who stayed with me the entire day. Look around you, friend groups are already forming. I’m afraid you’re mine, your Majesty.”
Another molten drip of annoyance pierces Wonwoo’s stomach, bypassing food and alcohol alike. Wonwoo blinks at the other and wonders when was the last time someone dared claim him so boldly. Never, probably. Neither Wonwoo’s status nor his personality signal him out as claimable. If anything, it’s the other way around.
Somehow though, the words don’t sound offensive coming out of Mingyu’s lips. Not after beating him so thoroughly in poker and then buying him food. What has Wonwoo done to actually intimidate him so far, except treat him to expensive whiskey?
He’s done nothing.
“Horrors,” Wonwoo mutters, locking his thoughts somewhere far away from his expression.
“What’s you room? I’ll come pick you up.”
It’s not even a question. Perhaps, and Wonwoo doesn’t even want to entertain the thought, he can’t do anything to intimidate him. Not at this point.
That’s… new.
He tells Mingyu his room’s number. And then he spends the rest of his afternoon trying to convince himself he’s not feeling unsettled.
~~~
The sun has long set when Wonwoo decides to take a shower. If he’s late and he makes Mingyu wait for him, that’s a bonus. Tardiness can become a weapon, in the right context.
It’s 10 PM when he starts getting ready. No point in dressing up too much for a private yacht party, but he does wear his watch. His father got it for him when Wonwoo was announced to be part of the conference. The old man didn’t spare expenses, not for something so important in Wonwoo’s career. It sends the right message at first glance, telling of where Wonwoo’s priorities lie.
He wanted to be late. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he actively tried for it. But 11 PM comes and goes, and he finds himself seething, cross-legged on his bed with his hair already starting to fall out of shape.
Where the fuck is Mingyu?
When knocks are finally heard from the door, Wonwoo jumps to his feet.
“Sorry, I hope I’m not too late,” Mingyu greets him, all fake innocence and a shit-eating grin.
“It’s fine,” Wonwoo swallows down his annoyance. “I just finished getting ready as well.”
Mingyu’s eyes flick over to his hair without a comment. Wonwoo wants to punch him.
Try as he might, he can’t find anything out of place in Mingyu’s appearance to get back at him. His hair is parted to the side and slicked back, flawless even under the hallway’s dim lighting. He is wearing a Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned to show off sculpted pecs that Wonwoo really should have expected. Mingyu’s arms were on display all morning. Of course the rest of his body would look equally good.
Wonwoo lifts his gaze back to his face, only to find the other already looking at him with a slight smirk.
“You think it was worth it being late?” Mingyu asks, his voice taking on a velvety hue.
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
“I don’t need to, the way you just looked at me said enough. Ready for our date?” Mingyu offers his arm, all gentlemanly and handsome.
The only reason Wonwoo doesn’t gawk at him is because he’s had years of training in apathy. Internally, he might be failing, but he’s sure his face remains impressively passive.
“I have a girlfriend,” he pushes Mingyu away and closes the door behind him. He makes sure to pocket the key card.
Mingyu doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh? And you still have such a big stick stuck up your ass? What, does she not touch you there?”
Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “Watch it, Mingyu. Otherwise you won’t have a vacation friend for long.”
“Alright, alright, sorry,” Mingyu throws his arms around his shoulders, friendly and open once again. “I need my best friend.”
“I’m your best friend now? That’s not pathetic at all,” Wonwoo tries to elbow him away.
Mingyu doesn’t budge. “Yet you still waited for me.”
A single wrinkle appears in Wonwoo’s forehead, another drip of annoyance in his stomach. The weapon of tardiness has unfortunately fallen to enemy hands. Wonwoo miscalculated again, and Mingyu got him. Again.
“Lighten up, your Majesty,” Mingyu chuckles, self-satisfied. “I’ll make sure I’m worth your time.”
Passive face, Wonwoo reminds himself. He forces his fists to unclench, his shoulders to relax beneath Mingyu’s hold. There is a possibility that Mingyu might be actually flirting with him. That it’s not merely yet another attempt at antagonizing him. Wonwoo won’t dare call him out on it and then be proven wrong, he doesn’t need that blow to his ego. But there’s enough evidence that he can’t ignore it anymore either.
He doesn’t say anything as they step on the second deck, Mingyu’s arm having slid off his shoulder to wrap around his elbow instead.
“I think it’s my turn to buy you alcohol, don’t you think?” Mingyu says, leaning closer to be heard over the music.
Wonwoo almost doesn’t hear him. For a second, he forgets all about Mingyu and how gay he might be, because there’s a full-blown party happening right in front of his face.
Wonwoo’s not shy. He’s not intimidated by loud crowds, he doesn’t try to shield himself. Not anymore. He’s had extensive lessons in navigating situations like these, especially since it didn’t use to come naturally.
The main lights are all turned off, in favor of ground LED spots and spinning lasers. The sea stretches dark and infinite around them, giving the illusion that this ship is all alone in the world. Music plucked straight out of a club playlist is booming, new hits that Wonwoo only occasionally keeps up with. They’re all the same anyway, autotuned rappers mixing words and talking dirty, beats that have nothing to do with actual instruments. Bass so loud it pierces through your heart.
Ugh. He forgot to prepare himself for this. With Mingyu having taken all of his focus, he forgot what mask he needed to put on in order to enjoy this.
“Hey, I’m not offering twice,” Mingyu snaps his fingers in front of Wonwoo’s face. “Come get a drink with me.”
Suddenly, Wonwoo’s all too aware of Mingyu’s arm wrapped around his elbow. “…Sure,” he says, trying to shake himself out of it. It’s not too late. It’s never too late to slip a mask on.
Mingyu tugs him forward though, and Wonwoo instinctively returns his hold. He grabs his arm with his free hand, falling into step behind him and into the crowd of dancing people. There are 20 of his peers on this ship total, and even if all of them were here, it still wouldn’t be as crowded as Wonwoo’s brain registers.
It’s not overwhelming. Wonwoo takes a deep breath when they reach the bar, eyes carefully trained ahead. He’s being a bit mechanical, he knows, but thankfully Mingyu doesn’t point it out.
“Here, sit,” Mingyu pulls a stool out for him. Wonwoo eyes him in suspicion.
“I found your throne, your Majesty,” Mingyu bows low, gesturing at the stool with his hand.
“God, shut up,” Wonwoo looks away. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“No, I’m embarrassing you. Are you going to refuse again?” Mingyu pats the top of the stool.
Wonwoo grumbles under his breath and takes the damn seat. He does feel a bit steadier with something to lean against, but he’s taking that information to his grave. It’s not good to facilitate his insecurities.
Mingyu places himself right in front of him, blocking most of his view to the hall that has turned into a dance floor. He casually leans on the bar, eyes squinting to read the drinks available.
“I know just what to get you,” Mingyu bumps the stool with his hips, making Wonwoo sway.
Wonwoo doesn’t have any expectations. Yet somehow, they manage to drop even lower when he is handed a glass of baileys.
“If I wanted milk I’d have gone to the kitchen,” he says, because nervous or not, he can’t let Mingyu get away with this.
“Just trust me on this one,” Mingyu winks.
A few moments later, it’s inevitable that someone else spots the baileys too.
“Woah, are you drinking that?” a girl bounces over to them. “First time I see a man with taste.”
Ah.
Wonwoo tries to be subtle as he glares at his very own vacation friend.
“Yeah, Wonwoo loves this stuff!” Mingyu giggles, throwing an arm around his shoulders again. “Isn’t that right?”
“…Yeah,” Wonwoo replies. “I like how sweet it is.”
“It’s one of the only things I can drink by itself. I’m convinced anyone who drinks hard alcohol without juice at least is a masochist,” the girl continues.
It’s Wonwoo’s cue to start a polite yet intriguing discussion about taste in alcohol. His cue to toy the line between appearing condescending and well-informed. It doesn’t matter if he has the mask on or not, it’s his responsibility to speak and appear sociable now.
Except, Mingyu steals his cue. He takes over the conversation too, conducting the introductions and giving Wonwoo clear openings to speak without much thought behind it. Wonwoo sits uneasily, waiting to take over if needed, but it doesn’t look like it will. The girl leaves and returns with a couple of her friends, and all Mingyu does is slide his hand from Wonwoo’s shoulders to the small of his back. He keeps putting all the brainpower needed in their socializing, allowing Wonwoo to give it a rest.
Wonwoo expects him to completely seclude him from any further interactions if he keeps allowing this, but he doesn’t do that either. Mingyu doesn’t take advantage of Wonwoo’s apparent tendency to take his lead, to listen instead of order. If they were in a car and Mingyu was the driver, he wouldn’t banish him to the backseats, like a true businessman would. Like Wonwoo would have done himself. No, with this stranger, Wonwoo would be right there on the passenger seat.
Alright then.
Wonwoo sips the damn baileys. It does taste too sweet, and it’s too viscous. But as time passes like this, he’s also starting to calm down. He takes subtle breaths, allowing himself time to get used to the music. The voices. He really doesn’t hate it, it’s been years since he’s been scared of it. To enjoy it though, that requires allowing himself his insecurities, and he just doesn’t do that.
With another person on his side though…
Pause. Since when did he consider Mingyu to be on his side and not the enemy? The answer comes to him easily, and it’s when other people started getting involved. Different friend groups, as Mingyu called it. And he was right, as much as Wonwoo is his, Mingyu is also Wonwoo’s vacation friend.
He slowly starts realizing how Mingyu’s practically embracing him. How Wonwoo has been leaning into his body heat, his energy.
One second, he feels safe. The next, he wants to throw up.
“Mingyu, are you not drinking?” he calls, effectively pulling Mingyu out of whatever conversation Wonwoo stopped paying attention to five minutes ago.
“Oh, I intend to,” Mingyu scans him over, assessing. Whatever he finds in Wonwoo’s posture makes him smile. “I did not sleep off that expensive whiskey only to remain sober.”
“I’d be careful of getting drunk next to me, if I were you,” Wonwoo tells him.
“Oh?” Mingyu tilts his head. “Why? What are you going to do with me?”
Wonwoo bites his lips. Initially, he wanted to say something dumb, like pulling him into another poker match and getting all his money back. But Mingyu’s tone, the way the question is asked, leaves no room for it anymore. And like this, he goes back to wondering if his vacation friend is actually hitting on him.
Wonwoo doesn’t remember the last time it took so much time to reply. Too much time.
Mingyu’s hand slides to his waist. “Don’t worry baby, you have my sober consent.”
“Stop that,” Wonwoo finally pushes him off. It took him entirely too long. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, just in case,” Mingyu shrugs, completely unbothered.
He gets a drink of his own, something way stronger-looking than damn baileys. Wonwoo’s not usually self-conscious about his image, but that baileys does not match with his father’s watch. Mingyu’s entire presence by his side doesn’t match with it. The way he made Wonwoo sit, the fact that he ordered for him, and especially the contrast of their actual drinks. None of it fits the standard.
“Wanna play a fun game?” Mingyu says in his ear sometime later, after most of the people around them have left the bar in favor of the dance floor.
“What game?” Wonwoo asks.
“I’ll take a shot every time you do something I find attractive,” Mingyu says. “Would you do the same?”
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. He wants to tell Mingyu that he doesn’t find him attractive, he wants it so bad. He wonders if it would be enough for the other to finally make a dejected face. But there is a challenge somewhere in that game, and Wonwoo wants to beat him so bad at something. Anything. If this goes as expected, this is an easy win for him.
“Okay,” he agrees. He looks straight at Mingyu’s eyes, to show how he’s not scared of competition.
Without breaking eye contact, Mingyu reaches at the pre-made shots on the bar behind Wonwoo and he downs one.
Ah.
Wonwoo looks away. It’s not advisable to break eye contact first, on any kind of interaction. It betrays nervousness, and Wonwoo is not nervous. He hasn’t been for years, except, apparently, when he knows what lies behind this man’s gaze.
“If you’re blushing, you better take a shot too,” Mingyu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I’m not blushing,” Wonwoo grumbles.
“Is that so? Come dance with me then,” Mingyu says, and without waiting for a reply, he grabs Wonwoo’s hand.
Now, Wonwoo’s not a hardass. He doesn’t actually have a stick up his ass, dancing with people has been necessary in the past. He doesn’t hate it. Hell, he dances with Nayoung. There’s no uncertainty in how he usually spins her around, arms on her waist to guide her. There’s nothing there to make his heart beat louder anymore, nothing unfamiliar to make his breath stutter.
This time, the hands are on his waist. He gets pulled below blinking lights and he guides none of it. His mind’s in a disarray, his limbs unable to coordinate in someone else’s hold.
And then, Mingyu pulls him closer. He starts moving for him, leading him to a rhythm Wonwoo doesn’t even register, not really. His heart is beating loudly in his ears, but his body follows the lead that it’s given. It follows a bit too easily.
Unprepared for any of this, that’s what Wonwoo is.
“Oh, you actually can dance well,” Mingyu speaks in his ear, chin grazing his shoulder.
Wonwoo’s hands fly to his biceps, to hold on, to push him away, he doesn’t know. His heart beats and beats, and he can’t remember the last time it beat like this while dancing with Nayoung. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t have to be aware of his surroundings, to keep her safely away from other moving bodies.
He doesn’t look at anything now. He doesn’t feel anything, except Mingyu’s hands dipping to his hips. Making him dance in a way, salacious and sensual and dirty, that Wonwoo sure as hell hasn’t done before. That is a brand-new feeling.
“Oi,” Mingyu reaches over to a passing waitress with a shot tray. He grabs two glasses and he turns back to Wonwoo. “One for how your waist feels beneath my hand.” He downs one. “And one for how you let me hold it.” He downs the other.
Fuck.
If Wonwoo’s cheeks redden, at least it’s dark enough for it to not be visible. His throat feels dry, his lips even more so. There’s not a single thing he can think to reply.
Especially as Mingyu starts moving again, bolder this time. He spins Wonwoo around, pulling him back against his body. Wonwoo still allows it. He allows everything while scrambling for a semblance of control.
Mingyu’s hand travels up his torso, his neck, grabbing his chin as their hips move together. He holds Wonwoo unlike any way he’s ever been held before, tight and overpowering. And maybe Wonwoo has no idea how to process all of this, how to respond, but…
Being unable to find his own footing, much less another’s, it makes something drip hot and molten in his gut. Annoyance, sure, but…
Mingyu reaches over Wonwoo’s shoulder for another waitress, another shot. He holds it in front of Wonwoo, his front plastered to his back, his face almost buried in his neck.
“One for how baffled you are that you’re enjoying this,” he mutters in his ear and swallows the liquid down. Wonwoo feels his throat bobbing. He swallows too, excessive spit gathering in his mouth.
Mingyu spins him back around and it makes him dizzy. He places his hands on Mingyu’s shoulders to steady himself, but it’s a lost cause. He doesn’t want to be steady, and the realization is almost as thrilling as Mingyu’s fingers in his hair, pulling his head back.
Wonwoo groans. He’s mortified the moment he hears himself, but his body doesn’t care. He holds on to Mingyu, still getting pulled along to dance and dance and dance.
When Mingyu grabs his hips again, Wonwoo’s knees almost buckle. He might be tipsy. He might be drunk already, but none of it is from the alcohol.
Alcohol. Shots.
Fuck, they’re playing a game here. If he wants to enjoy a victory, he needs to play honestly.
It’s with great difficulty that he unfocuses from the arms around him for a moment, just to spot that waitress. Before Mingyu can pull him back, he stumbles over to her, grabbing a shot with a shaky hand. He holds it like it’s poison, but rules are rules.
“Wonwoo,” Mingyu gets to him, grabbing him like he owns him already. “Don’t run-”
He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. Wonwoo looks him in the eye and downs the shot.
The taste doesn’t even register in his brain. Only the burn. And oh, it burns.
A beat of silence pulses between them, only loud music and a thumping bass in a waving boat. Then, Mingyu does three things at once. He takes the empty shot glass out of Wonwoo’s hand, he grabs his jaw between his fingers, and he brings their mouths together.
Wonwoo’s first instinct is to kiss back. He wants this, he realizes, he wants it more irrationally than he has ever wanted anything before. The next second though, he is hit with a mace of clarity.
He pushes Mingyu back violently.
“Fuck off!” he all but yells, chest rising and falling at random intervals. “I-I have a girlfriend.”
Instead of being even a smidge put off, Mingyu bursts out laughing. “Oh, you poor thing.”
Wonwoo sees red. His lips are tingling, his entire body is tingling, and he has no idea what to do with it. And now this asshole dares pity him, when all of this is his fault?
Before Wonwoo can throw a punch, Mingyu grabs his wrist. He yanks hard as he starts walking, leaving Wonwoo to stumble behind him on a path unknown. Wonwoo tries to pull away, but Mingyu’s grip is the same tight grip that made him go boneless on the dance floor. Wonwoo’s fucking helpless.
He recognizes the door of a communal bathroom, just in time for Mingyu to shove him inside and lock it behind them. And then, Wonwoo’s back hits a mirrored wall.
The force makes him dizzy. “Mingyu-” he tries to say, but he gets silenced by Mingyu’s lips.
Anger like he’s never felt before sets him ablaze. The candle is all liquid inside him, and it’s travelling from his stomach downwards. Mingyu bites his lower lip, and the moan that leave’s Wonwoo throat is the most he has ever betrayed himself.
“I’d take a hundred more shots if I had them now,” Mingyu says between their lips.
“Fuck you,” Wonwoo turns his head away, panting. He thinks of Nayoung, sweet and soft and pliable, nothing like this. Nothing. Not arrogant, not constantly beating him at his own game, not turning him into fucking goo.
All of that is supposed to be a good thing, that’s why he picked her. To be in control. So why the fuck is the thought accompanied by dissatisfaction now?
“You’re fighting so hard, your Majesty. Who’s pretending to be a warrior now?” Mingyu says, all low and seductive, trailing kisses down Wonwoo’s neck. “Such a hard battle you must have, getting your ego so bruised and yet sticking to me like a fly to a honey trap.” His knee slides between Wonwoo’s legs, pushing them wider. “Why are you still humoring me, hm?”
“Shut up,” Wonwoo closes his eyes, but he feels the rest of Mingyu’s body sliding between his legs anyway. “This is not… You stuck to me.”
“I did. You wanna know why?” Mingyu bites his earlobe. “Because form the moment you made me take off my sunglasses, I wanted to bend you over that mahogany table. I wanted to drink you horrible, watered down whiskey while I fucked you stupid.”
As if to drive his point home, he presses his hips forward. Something hard nudges against Wonwoo’s crotch, and he has to bite his lips to muffle a groan. There’s no way he’s getting hard from this, not when he’s been struggling with it so much lately. There’s no way Mingyu’s words make him harder.
“But there’s more to you,” Mingyu continues, wetting his lips with spit. “You’re all proper and rigid, with your conference attendance and your little girlfriend. You’re so in control of your pretty face. I don’t even want to image how much you want it stripped away, somewhere deep down you’re not allowed to look.”
He grabs Wonwoo’s thighs and pulls, heaving him up the wall and wrapping his legs around him. Wonwoo loses his breath all over again.
“Look at you. You’ve never done this before. You’re nervous. You want to scream.” Mingyu smirks. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you.”
And he kisses him again. Wonwoo gasps, heart hammering in his chest, palms sweaty. He hates every single word that Mingyu spoke. He scorns and despises it, and he wants to explode because of how much unwanted truth it contains.
Mingyu rolls his hips forward again, setting a slow pace as he takes Wonwoo’s breath away. Wonwoo’s in such a vulnerable position, he feels everything, he wants to feel even more. It feels so good, better than it’s been in years, better than he ever remembers it being.
But you’re a man, you’re a man, you’re a man, he tells Mingyu in his horrified brain, even if the words never reach his lips. It breaks something in him, this final admission that not even this matters. The final nail to the coffin, the cherry on top, that maybe it’s exactly because Mingyu’s a man that Wonwoo’s reacting like this to him.
“Goddammit!” he cries out and pulls Mingyu’s face harder against his own. He rolls his hips too, meeting the other’s thrusts, and the extra friction makes him see stars.
It only lasts for a second though before Mingyu lets him drop. As he falls, Mingyu grabs his arms and spins him around, smashing his front against the mirror. Wonwoo’s breath is knocked out of him once again, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.
“Don’t call upon god when you’re not at his mercy,” Mingyu says.
“Oh yeah?” Wonwoo heaves, looking back over his shoulder. “At whose mercy am I?”
“Mine.”
Wonwoo wants to laugh, point out how stupid it sounds. How blasphemous. But with the way Mingyu’s crowding him against the mirror, his free hand coming to unzip his pants, Wonwoo can’t help but find truth in his words.
You judged me as someone who can’t back up his words, and now look, I got your money. I don’t need to bluff.
Wonwoo makes a damn pathetic sound when Mingyu’s hand dips in his underwear, fist circling around his leaking tip. Why the hell is he so wet? Why does his hips stutter, mindlessly thrusting forward in search for more friction? He’s not desperate, he’s never been deprived of sex. Nayoung, poor, poor Nayoung has been making sure he’s kept satisfied, even when her efforts were fruitless.
Then why the fuck is Wonwoo’s body reacting like a damn virgin getting touched for the first time now?
Mingyu pumps him a few times, testing the waters. And then he lets him go, an appreciative hum vibrating in his throat.
“I’m going to take you apart, your Majesty,” he whispers in Wonwoo’s ear.
Wonwoo barely registers the door unlocking. The music gets louder, fresh air hits his heated face. It feels soothing, a glimpse at reality, until he realizes that Mingyu never redid his pants.
“Wait, you idiot-” Wonwoo reaches for his zipper, but Mingyu yanks him forward again.
Wonwoo curses as he’s pulled away from the relative safety of the bathroom. He’s certain his hair is a mess already, his flush must have reached his neck. Even without the front of his pants hanging open, anyone would know exactly where he’s being dragged to.
“Mingyu wait,” he tries to catch his step. “There’s people-”
There are people, quite a lot of them, rich kids and staff alike. Faceless bodies swaying to the background music, laughter and footsteps and alcohol cups. A sea of disorder, so far away from any type of land. So far from home, that Wonwoo can’t find a way to ground himself.
Amidst all of this, Mingyu somehow notices he’s struggling. He stops yanking forward. What he does instead is turn around and grab him into a searing kiss. He pulls him close, guiding Wonwoo’s arms to wrap around his neck, and for a bit, he just kisses him.
No words are exchanged. No thoughts, no hidden motives. Just breaths mingling together, a place to rest amidst the ocean. There’s a moment that, despite everything Mingyu has done to him today, Wonwoo feels safe here. Shielded. For a second, it’s like… It’s like he finds his place, and that place is this stranger’s embrace.
He knows he’s fucked when Mingyu leans away to breathe and Wonwoo grabs the back of his neck to pull him back in. Curse him, but he can’t let go. Not tonight. He kisses Mingyu with all of the desperation he’s careful to keep out of his everyday life, all the urgency he’s never allowed to show.
Mingyu’s hand travels downwards to cup his ass, keeping him in place. Claiming him once again, as boldly as no one’s been allowed to before.
“Come on,” Mingyu says between their mouths. “Or I’ll drop to my knees right here, I don’t care.”
Part of Wonwoo doesn’t care either. So many important people have already seen him being kissed by a man tonight. The future generation of his political circle, and he’s making a fool out of himself. It’s a disaster. Every single thing that’s happened after meeting Mingyu is a disaster of ungodly heights.
He’s frozen on spot, not knowing what to do to salvage it anymore. He looks up at Mingyu’s dark eyes, clueless, not knowing how to take the lead for once.
It’s Mingyu who yanks him into motion once more. He guides him down stairs and long corridors Wonwoo’s still unfamiliar with, until he pushes him through the door of a room that’s not Wonwoo’s. The inside of it is identical, same mirrored wall, same king-sized bed and bedside lamps, except they’re turned off now. When the door closes once again, there’s only darkness around them.
Wonwoo gulps. And then he’s getting picked up, the strength displayed making his stomach swoop. His back makes contact with the mattress, another body falling atop him. He’s getting kissed everywhere, his neck, his cheeks, his jaw. His hair is getting pulled back, exposing him to a will that is not his own.
He moans when Mingyu’s crotch presses against his, his legs falling a bit more open on their own. He immediately brings a hand to shut his mouth. If he can’t do anything else, he better keep his embarrassing sounds to himself.
“Pants off,” Mingyu says, his voice sounding huskier now. More affected.
“No,” Wonwoo tries to grab his wrist, stop him from going lower. “This is enough, we can… Like this…”
Mingyu scoffs. “It would be enough for you, wouldn’t it? I could make you come like this and it’d still be better than you’ve ever had before.”
As he speaks, Mingyu’s hand slides down his forearm, snakes towards his wrist. Wonwoo’s watch cuts into his skin when Mingyu’s finger slips beneath it. With a quick motion, he undoes the buckle and it gets lost somewhere amongst the sheets.
Wonwoo hates him. He hates him with a burning passion, but this passion has burned out of control. He can’t douse it now, no matter what he tries.
“You’re lucky I don’t do things halfway,” Mingyu says and yanks Wonwoo’s pants down.
It’s mortifying. Wonwoo’s more aroused than he’s ever been. He’s made a mess out of his underwear, so maybe it’s a good thing Mingyu takes them along with his pants. Left bare from the waist down, Wonwoo hides his face beneath his hands, a last line of defense. The loss of the familiar weight on his wrist is significant.
He registers a suitcase opening and closing, Mingyu briefly leaving his side to retrieve something.
“If you have a girlfriend, I imagine you’re clean,” he says, pushing Wonwoo’s thighs apart.
Wonwoo nods behind his hands.
“Heh,” Mingyu is audibly pleased. “You’re going to like this a lot more without a condom.”
“What the fuck do you mean without-” Wonwoo lifts his body off the mattress, only for Mingyu to push him back down.
“Relax,” he says, uncapping a bottle of some sorts with one hand. “This is going to be far from painful.”
Wonwoo whines in frustration, toes curling in anticipation. He hates this. He wants to leave, he wants to clench his legs so tight that nothing will ever touch him again. Something wet drips on his behind though, and all such thoughts fly out of the window.
Part of him knew what was coming when Mingyu shoved him against that bathroom mirror. He’s not clueless about how it would work between two men, even if he’s never been interested before. And the way Mingyu has been handling him, oh Wonwoo knew what the other wanted from him. He knew deep down, but he refused to acknowledge it, right up to the point it’d be impossible.
The moment is now. Wonwoo gasps when a finger is pressed inside him, the intrusion foreign and invasive. It’s like he’s getting speared in half, defenses crumbling uselessly in defeat. It’s not painful, and that’s fucking awful.
He has enough presence of mind to not clench his muscles, to not resist. It’ll only be more painful if he does, and annoyingly enough, he wants it. He’s never felt it before, but he craves this horrible feeling of being spread open below someone. At their fucking mercy.
Mingyu slowly moves his finger out and then back in, with a disgusting squelching noise. Wonwoo has to bite his lips to not make a damn sound.
Mingyu shifts above him, until Wonwoo senses the heat of his body atop him again. He feels lips travelling up his neck as a finger continues to work him open. A lick at the shell of his ear, a warm breath.
“Nothing smart to say now? Good boy.”
A violent surge of arousal courses through Wonwoo, unexpected and unannounced. He was keeping his body relaxed before, but now he clenches damn hard.
“Oh? This is doing something for you, isn’t it?” Mingyu drawls in his ear, his finger not stopping despite the extra force. A noise from the back of Wonwoo’s throat manages to leave him, and it’s mortifying.
“What, want me to hold your hand too?” Mingyu whispers darkly. “Want to know how you can be good for me?”
“F-fuck off,” Wonwoo breathes.
“You do want it,” Mingyu smiles as if he stumbled across a goldmine. He licks his lips greedily, with the glee of a man who knows he’s getting everything he wants. “Classic nepo baby. You wanna be daddy’s perfect little boy, don’t you?”
It’s brand news to Wonwoo too. Inconvenient at best, devastating at worst, but his body’s reacting absurdly to the words.
“Then you better relax those muscles,” Mingyu licks the shell of his ear. “And don’t silence your moans.”
Wonwoo sucks in an abrupt breath and does both. Letting out sound makes his whole chest deflate, and it’s relieving, so relieving. When was the last time he was allowed to be loud? Inconvenient and devastating, but the moment he relaxes, Mingyu adds a second finger, and that only makes him moan louder.
“Yeah, just like that,” Mingyu keeps stroking the fire. “You’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?”
Wonwoo’s high, there is no other way to describe it. He barely feels his body where Mingyu’s spreading him open, the sensation is too overwhelming to take account of. It’s neither good nor bad, just something to take and endure, and that manages to keep him hard throughout it all.
And then Mingyu curls his fingers. And then Wonwoo’s world starts making even less sense.
“Shit,” he arches his body off the mattress, a sharp spike of pleasure rapidly dissipating the numbness. “What the-”
Mingyu chuckles and kisses his shoulder. “You have the most endearing reactions.”
It’s his prostate, Wonwoo recognizes belatedly. He’s had an exam once, but he sure as hell has never been touched like this, just with the intention to pleasure. He gasps as Mingyu keeps circling his finger pads over it, scrambling his insides. Something rapidly builds inside him, an explosion right below his skin.
“Mingyu, Mingyu-” he calls in alarm, only for Mingyu to add another finger.
The added stretch has him throwing his head back, uselessly bucking his hips. It’s right there, a wave powerful enough to drown him ready to hit the shore, but Mingyu doesn’t let it. He swiftly withdraws all fingers, saving Wonwoo the embarrassment of coming untouched.
Wonwoo unfortunately can’t bring himself to be thankful.
“Come on, why stop now, you asshole,” he mutters mindlessly, head thrown to the side.
“Ha, you liked it that much?” Mingyu shoves a pillow below his ass, pushing his legs even wider. Wonwoo feels something hard rubbing against his puckered hole, spreading stickiness around. “If you can, you should come with a cock inside you for your first time.”
“What- I’m not a damn virgin,” Wonwoo opens his eyes just to glare at him.
“It’s your first time bottoming, no?” Mingyu picks up the lube bottle, squirts some on his cock. “First time with a man too, I’m guessing… Heh, I have a feeling it won’t be the last.”
Before Wonwoo can curse at him again, Mingyu presses his tip inside. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans.
Wonwoo grips at the sheet below him, bunching it up until his knuckles are white. No preparation in the world would ever be enough for this. If Mingyu’s fingers felt like an attack, then his cock is a conquest. It’s over, Wonwoo’s his. All of it, the fight, the pressure, the urgency, they’re taken away from him. The moment he stops fighting it, he feels tears prickling in his eyes.
“Hey,” Mingyu reaches forward and brushes Wonwoo’s hair back with a gentleness unbefitting of a conqueror. “Breathe.”
Wonwoo tries. It comes out as a sob.
“Crying is fine too,” Mingyu says, and it feels like permission. It’s the first time tears slip out of Wonwoo’s eyes that he’s not instantly guilty over.
Mingyu pushes his hips forward, reaching deeper and deeper by the second, and Wonwoo feels like it’s never going to end. His cheeks are wet, a choked moan turning into another sob.
“Good job,” Mingyu tells him when he stills. Wonwoo dares glance down, sees that he’s taken him all the way. He lets his head drop again, a sigh stuttering out of him.
Mingyu brushes his hair again, tucking a sweaty strand behind his ear. “Let it all out, Wonwoo,” he says, the unexpected tenderness making more tears spring to Wonwoo’s eyes. “You’ve been repressing a lot.”
Wonwoo nods. He brings one shaky hand to wrap around Mingyu’s wrist, asking him for help with words he’s unable to utter. Mingyu turns his hand, finds Wonwoo’s palm and squeezes.
The next moment, Wonwoo’s being flipped around.
Mingyu pulls him up by the hips, making him go on all fours. Wonwoo has to brace himself so he doesn’t fall face first on the mattress, but his arms feel weak. They get even weaker when Mingyu slides into him from behind, in one fluid motion.
“Fuck yeah,” Wonwoo hears him groan somewhere behind his back. Mingyu rolls his hips, his groan turning long and drawn-out. “I’ll give you what you need, baby.”
Wonwoo’s fists clench. Please, he wants to say, wants to hurry the other along. He can’t take this anymore, this feeling of being so full, so owned, ordered to let go as if he’s ever been allowed to before.
Thankfully, Mingyu moves. He splays a palm on the small of Wonwoo’s back and starts fucking into him like he is a damn toy. He moves him as he pleases, spreading his cheeks and slapping his thighs to keep them open. Wonwoo’s not the only one moaning anymore. Mingyu’s pleasured voice gets to him as much as his touches.
“Bend that waist,” Mingyu grunts, pulling Wonwoo’s hips further up. Wonwoo does, lowering his torso as close to the mattress as possible. “Fuck, I love your tiny waist,” Mingyu slams into him, the angle making him go even deeper. “I want to keep a hand on it 24/7.”
Right now, Wonwoo wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. His desire is a bottomless pit, dark and unfamiliar. He’s not surprised anymore about how much he didn’t know about himself. He’s not surprised when pleasure starts building again, slower this time, more dangerous. It’s going to hit harder, he knows it, and he’s scared shitless. What if he never comes back from this? What if he never likes it any other way?
Mingyu’s determined to make him find out. When Wonwoo’s moans turn more pathetic, he wraps a hand around his nape and pushes his head down. His grip tightens everywhere, barely leaving him room to breathe. Wonwoo’s arms give away, he cries out.
“Good boy,” Mingyu pants, thrusts speeding up. “Bend over and take it.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is it. Mingyu’s hitting all the right spots, in his body and in his mind, spots that Wonwoo didn’t even know he had. He’s never felt more strung out, spread thin and pried open, pinned beneath a strong grip. It’s inevitable this time, and Mingyu doesn’t spare him the embarrassment. Even untouched, Wonwoo’s pleasure peaks, making the next few thrusts the most excruciating moments of sex Wonwoo’s ever had. He screams, with Mingyu pressing his face down even harder. He yells and shouts, and it doesn’t matter at all, because the wave crushes over, and it’s nothing like it’s ever been before. Weak spurts of spent dribble out of his cock each time Mingyu bottoms out, as if every thrust pushes more and more out of him. His whole body seizes, muscles unable to be kept relaxed.
He must be squeezing inside too, because Mingyu curses and leans forward to bite his nape. Wonwoo barely registers his teeth in his own never ending high. He just convulses and moans, his mind floating somewhere above his head.
He only realizes it when he’s suddenly left empty, Mingyu abruptly pulling his cock out. The next second, his lower back, his waist, they get painted warm.
“Oh fuck,” Mingyu moans, stroking his cock fast and hard, making his release fly everywhere. “Fuck yeah, baby.”
Wonwoo collapses on the bed. It’s wet below his navel, his own evidence of orgasm soiling him further.
“Whew,” Mingyu wipes sweat off his forehead as he gets his breath to calm down again. “That was significant. Are you holding up?”
Wonwoo doesn’t reply. He’s exhausted, muscles clenching and relaxing all over, fingers still gripping the sheets tightly. He’s never been so messy after sex before, not only with his own cum, but with another’s too. He’s not disgusted. He hates that he’s not disgusted.
“Did you die over there?” Mingyu flicks his inner thigh. It makes him squirm. “Huh, guess not. Does your Majesty need help cleaning up? I didn’t even come inside.”
“Shut up,” Wonwoo manages, his voice a disconnected croak.
Mingyu chuckles. “Alright,” he smooths his palm down the back of Wonwoo’s thigh. “Let me take care of you.”
Taking care of him apparently includes running a towel with warm water and then wiping down every single part of Wonwoo’s soiled body. Wonwoo’s putty in his arms as he gathers him up, holding him in a fucked-up embrace to help him clean. Fucked up, because even if he knows it’s out of place, Wonwoo clings onto him.
Surprisingly, this time he’s spared the teasing.
“It’s okay,” Mingyu brushes his hair soothingly. “Don’t panic, you did amazing.”
“ ‘m not panicking,” Wonwoo mutters, head buried in the other’s neck.
“Don’t feel guilty either.”
This is a significantly harder request. Wonwoo groans as he thinks of Nayoung, of how he’s never been cuddly after sex with her. And now he’s going to think of how he cheated on her every time he doesn’t hug her.
He begrudgingly pushes Mingyu away, even if something inside him protests at the separation. The bed is huge, so he chooses to flop down on the part they didn’t dirty. He stares at the ceiling, visible now with the soft light coming from the bathroom.
He fucked up. There’s no gentler way to put it. And he enjoyed it like he’s never enjoyed anything before. That’s even more fucked up.
“Don’t pass out on me now,” Mingyu joins him, plopping down on his side in all his naked, golden-skinned glory. He supports his head on his hand, a sly smile on his lips. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”
Completely fucked up, how a spark flares in Wonwoo’s gut at the audacity.
“Well, I am,” he says.
Mingyu snorts. “The fuck you are. You had a prostate orgasm. Wanna see how fast I can get you hard again?”
Wonwoo groans. Judging from his already stirring cock, this is not a bluff either. He wonders, as he helplessly gets pulled under Mingyu once again, when he is going to stop being so powerless against this man.
~~~
Wonwoo wakes up groggy and disoriented. It probably doesn’t even count as waking up, because his eyes don’t open, not really. He blinks once or twice, before he buries his face back on the pillow.
It’s silent outside, no sign of music or voices in the hallway. The boat is shaking gently, waves lapping at its hull. During one of his blinks, he sees there’s light outside the window’s shutters, but none of it gets inside.
Wonwoo is sprawled on his stomach on a big bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish. The sheets have dried weirdly below him, hard to the touch in some places. There may be half a blanket covering his legs, but he’s not certain.
He’s also completely naked.
He tries to lift himself a bit, assess the damage, but his arms feel like jelly. What time is it? What time did he even fall asleep? He turns to his side, head hurting like it got ran over by a truck. As sensations slowly return to his limbs, he realizes that it’s not just his head, he’s sore all over. The truck didn’t leave an inch of him untouched.
He’s got bruises to prove it too, littering his neck, his collarbones, even the top of his shoulders. He tentatively touches his hair, and he finds it in a worse condition than the sheets beneath him. Worst of all must be his backside, a sharp pain shooting up when he tries to fold his legs. Amidst the confusion, he can’t help but wonder why it hurts now, when it didn’t last night.
Fuck. Last night.
Wonwoo may be feeling like he woke up from a coma, but at least he woke up alone. Not in his room, but only in the company of himself. He honestly doesn’t know what he’d have done if this was not the case.
The first thing he does is search for his phone, or, well, his pants. The pockets, where the phone presumably is. He spots his pants lying on the floor by the door and he groans. That’s too far.
He lets himself fall back on the mattress, long suffering and defeated. Nevermind his feelings about last night, his thoughts are all jumbled up. He can push emotions away if needed, but not if he doesn’t have a clue about how he’s supposed to be reacting right now.
He cheated on Nayoung. He lost control of himself, his mind and his body. He handed it all over to a stranger, willingly at that. He embarrassed himself in front of important people’s children. He came more times than he ever has in a single night.
Wonwoo scoffs. So much for a failing sexual drive.
Before he can properly organize his thoughts and come up with a recovery plan, the door beeps. Panic and anticipation flare up inside Wonwoo, and he doesn’t know which is worse.
“Helloooo!” a voice booms in the room, scratchy and teasing and familiar. If Wonwoo was still sleeping, this would have definitely woken him up. In the most annoying way possible.
“I brought your Majesty breakfast!”
Wonwoo stares at Mingyu, who enters the room with a tray of food balanced precariously on one hand. His hair is wet, probably from a shower. His sweatpants are untied and his wrinkled shirt clean, but unbuttoned.
He couldn’t look more like he had sex last night if he tried.
“Oh, you’re awake? It’s about time, you sleepyhead,” Mingyu sets the tray on the nightstand.
“What time is it?” Wonwoo rubs his eyes, pulling the blanket to cover any important parts.
“It’s almost noon, I thought you were dead. I took a shower and you didn’t even stir.” A smirk. “Guess someone tired you out.”
Wonwoo groans, pulling a pillow to his face. He can’t do this right now. He’s not ready to face Mingyu in all his after-sex glow just after waking up.
And did he bring him breakfast in bed? What the fuck?
“Why’d you bring food?” he asks, voice muffled behind the pillow.
“They were cleaning it out, you’re late. I thought you might be hungry though, so I snatched some up. I hope you like other sausages then boudin!”
At the mention of it, Wonwoo’s stomach grumbles. He’s starving, actually.
He makes to lower the pillow and accept breakfast as a peace offering of some sorts, when Mingyu gets on the bed. It’s so fast, that Wonwoo barely has time to gasp before two thick arms are encasing his head, a sturdy body pressing him down.
“But first,” Mingyu mutters, “let me have my own breakfast.”
“No, wait-” Wonwoo tries to protest, but Mingyu puts a lid to it with a kiss.
Nothing changed from last night, apparently. Mingyu still thinks he owns his mouth. He holds his jaw and makes him open up, uncaring of how bruised his lips already are. His hips also grind down, a hardness starting to form in his sweatpants. Wonwoo hisses as the fabric rubs against his naked cock.
“Are you sore, babe?” Mingyu grins between their lips, not sounding sorry at all. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle if you’ll be good for me again.”
Fucking hell. Hell, this is what this is. It can’t be heaven, there’s no way heaven would ever be so tempting. Other than that though, Wonwoo’s disturbed to find that he can’t name any other differences off the top of his head.
Mingyu breaks the kiss to kick his sweatpants off, and then he returns on top of Wonwoo.
“C’mon, turn around,” he urges him with a hand on his hip.
Wonwoo goes easily, way too easily. It’s all still so vivid, these hands, this voice, directing him like a stage actor. Forcing something earnest, something beautiful out of him, under all those incriminating lights.
Mingyu doesn’t lift his waist up today. He straddles him instead, cock already slicked up with lube and pressing against his opening.
“Still loose. Nice.”
“Shut up,” Wonwoo whines, all too aware of his own arousal. He’s not as disconnected as last night. Maybe he could excuse his behavior until now to a dream, a slip in the dark, a side effect of a party he was not prepared for. But he can’t anymore. The sun is out, somewhere above the deck. This is real.
Mingyu slides inside him with a satisfied grunt, wasting no time to set a rhythm. As promised, he’s gentle, not going too deep or too sudden. He’s just chasing a release, slick and swift.
It’s still pushing against all of Wonwoo’s boundaries. And it’s pushing so good.
“Mingyu,” Wonwoo grunts, turning his head to the side. “It’s…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Mingyu kisses his shoulder, almost sounding bored. “We’ll be quick.”
Wonwoo exhales, any remnants of sleepiness quickly leaving him. Mingyu keeps kissing him, his back, the side of his neck, while pushing inside him over and over.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he groans, burying his face in Wonwoo’s neck. “Would you mind if I come inside?”
“Yes!” Wonwoo turns to glare at him with the best of his ability. It must lose some of its effect though, if he looks only half as fucked out as he feels.
Mingyu chuckles, throaty and pleasured. “So uptight, your Majesty.”
And then he slips a hand below Wonwoo, palm warm and tight over his cock. Wonwoo almost chokes.
“Complain all you want, but you’re hard as fuck,” Mingyu mutters in his ear, as if Wonwoo wasn’t aware. As if it’s someone else pressing their hips upwards, taking Mingyu deeper, making him hit the spot. Coupled with the extra pressure on his cock, Wonwoo’s stamina is non-existent.
His face scrunches, brow furrowed and lips drawn to a scowl as he comes. He doesn’t embarrass himself by moaning out loud this time, but the release still feels incredibly good.
To think he’s never been fond of morning sex before. How could he, when the whole day was ahead of him, a schedule full of meetings and responsibilities already plaguing his head? Nobody’s managed to take his mind away from it all so far. Not until now.
“Good job,” Mingyu pants behind him, wiping his hand on the already stained sheets. Wonwoo has the most bizarre urge to curl against him, wrap himself in his arms. A physical shield from the hell that waking up burdened in the morning is.
Mingyu pulls out when he finishes. Wonwoo kinda wishes he hadn’t listened to him.
Mingyu stands up, rolling his shoulder to get rid of the stiffness. He’s barely even sweaty. Wonwoo hugs the pillow close to his face, drained already. Emptied out, before any regrets even had a chance to build.
“The sheets are a mess,” Mingyu says, pulling his pants back on. “Come on, get up, you must be dying for a shower.”
“…ntgetup…”
“What was that?”
Wonwoo bites his lips. “I can’t get up.”
He should know by now to keep his mouth shut about his weaknesses. It’s only natural for people to want to take advantage of them.
The mattress dips on the side as Mingyu sits down on it. Then, Wonwoo feels fingers cradling through his hair. It’s way too soft of a gesture, considering what they’ve just been up to.
“Well, at least you look pretty lying down,” Mingyu says. He proceeds to drag his fingers lower, for a slow massage to Wonwoo’s nape. “Does it really hurt?”
Wonwoo doesn’t reply, too absorbed in how good Mingyu’s touch still feels. How relaxing it is, tension that has been gathering for years getting rubbed away.
“Wonwoo?”
“ ‘m fine,” he mutters.
“Go take a shower then. We can eat outside and let the staff clean up here.”
Because that won’t be embarrassing at all. Wonwoo starts internally calculating how much he needs to tip whoever’s responsible for washing these sheets.
“And when we return I can give you a proper massage,” Mingyu adds. “You’re melting over there.”
Damn it.
~~~
Wonwoo has a problem.
Well actually, he's got about a million of them, but one is pressing. With the imminent reality that the world does not consist simply of him and his unfortunate one night stand, he has to do damage control. It's all he thinks while he showers. How to approach people who potentially saw them last night, how to sniff out if anyone cares enough to open their mouth to someone they shouldn't.
The first step is to appear normal with Mingyu, to stress out how unimportant this little mishap was to him. Make sure everyone understands that this is not a romance. At best, it was a drunken mistake, at worst, it was a dubious choice.
Every single one of his plans fly out of the window when they reach the main deck. The noon sun is shining its brightest, reflecting on the clear waters and straight into Wonwoo's eyes. Even the Cartier shades he's wearing don't protect him enough.
Half blinded, he's not in time to stop Mingyu from wrapping an arm around his waist and planting a fat, affectionate kiss on his cheek.
"You look like a bat that just emerged from its cave," he chuckles, pulling him close to his side.
They're already on the first deck's outdoors lounge. Most people from yesterday are here, gathered on plush, black armchairs, nursing their hangover. Mingyu could not have picked a more public place to make a statement.
Wonwoo wants to break every single one of his bones. He wonders to himself if Mingyu's ever had his plans so thoroughly thwarted by another, or if he's just a natural.
They find their own armchairs side by side and they share Wonwoo's breakfast, which on hindsight, doesn't make for the most indifferent image. And then, when they find the whole rest of the day stretching in front of them with not a single ounce of responsibilities to attend to, Mingyu suggest they visit the jacuzzi on the third floor.
A jacuzzi doesn't sound half bad for Wonwoo's aching body. He can barely stand to sit on his ass for a few minutes at a time. Maybe lounging on large cushions and occasionally dipping in the warm water is exactly what he needs for the whole rest of this bizarre day.
Another problem emerges, then. Unlike the first one, Wonwoo is self-aware enough to admit to his reluctance to fix it.
Mingyu dotes on him. Whatever leftover instinct from last night urges him to do so, he doesn’t bother resisting it.
He follows Wonwoo along when they change into their swimwear, offering hands to help him off seats and opening doors for him. His palm can't seem to stay away from Wonwoo's waist as they walk, as they talk, as if that's where it was supposed to be all along. Worst of all, when they settle down on third floor, Mingyu makes him take his shirt off to apply sunscreen on his back.
With his shirt off, Wonwoo's entirely aware of how the purple marks on his skin stand out. He and Mingyu are not the only ones up here, some girls in bikinis and ponytails are only a few cushions over. Manicured nails and professionally tanned skin, and eyes that do not know how to hide their interest.
Mingyu presses down at the top of his shoulders, rolling his fingers on a particularly stiff muscle. Wonwoo applies extreme self-control to not groan.
"A taste for later," Mingyu whispers in his ear, and Wonwoo does not blush. He does remain pliant however, as Mingyu wordlessly moves on from his back to rub the sunscreen to his arms and his face. His thumb swipes under Wonwoo's eye, and it makes Wonwoo want to lean against his palm.
The problem is not that Mingyu dotes on him. It's that Wonwoo, for some reason, likes it.
He didn't expect the feeling of getting taken care off to leave the bedroom, but it does. Wonwoo's never been on this side of it, the one where he doesn't have to make sure the other person is comfortable. In romantic relationships too, but also everywhere else in his life.
Mingyu finishes lathering him up, and while still cupping the side of his face, he presses a soft kiss to his cheekbone. "I'm going to get us something to drink. Relax, okay?"
Wonwoo nods. He hopes his shades are enough to hide how his gaze remains on Mingyu long after he reaches the bar. The girls are still stealing glances when he lies down, back propped against the railing of the deck. The jacuzzi bubbles in front of him, the wind blows gently against his face as the boat skims the ocean. The sun is warm over his chest too, and Wonwoo sighs.
The girls are still stealing glances.
Wonwoo has one last lifeline. He takes his phone out of his pocket, and finds the file most recently saved. They made all of them sign NDAs before boarding, and even if Wonwoo read it carefully back then too, he goes over its details once more now. If he can't salvage the situation now, at least he needs to make sure the law has his back.
It wakes him up a bit, going over professional documents. Vacation or not, this is his life. Someone is way too good at making him forget, but if he keeps acting careless, he’s going to face consequences. He shouldn't stop trying to keep up appearances. Especially after not putting any real effort to it until now.
When Mingyu returns, it's with two fancy glasses full of light green liquid. Tiny umbrellas and vibrant spearmint leaves are balancing on top of ice cubes, plastic straws already plucked inside.
"This is not coffee," Wonwoo points out.
"No, but it has caffeine," Mingyu sits next to him. "It's a Yerba Mate mojito. Try it."
Wonwoo makes an undecided noise. "Mojitos first thing in the morning?"
"Look at where you are, what else are you going to drink?" Mingyu smiles, white teeth below rosy lips. Plump, sun-kissed skin and yet another unbuttoned shirt. He looks dashing.
And he's right. Chilling at an outdoors jacuzzi on the third floor of a private yacht, what else is Wonwoo going to drink? The view alone, transparent waters and tiny islands in the distance below a clear sky, it calls for a drink.
Wonwoo takes the mojito. But before Mingyu hands it over, he tries to press another kiss to his cheek. Perfect sunny weather and gorgeous view aside, Wonwoo abruptly turns his head around.
"Stop kissing me," he says, calm like it's not affecting him.
"Why?"
"Save it for someone you like," Wonwoo takes a sip of his drink from the pink straw.
"But I do like you."
Wonwoo almost swallows wrong. "No you don't."
Mingyu snorts. He lies down next to Wonwoo, an arm on the railing behind his head. The words he speaks next are thankfully whispered.
"Hot and repressed "straight" man who subs first chance he gets? I'd low-key date you."
There it is, the familiar hot drip of annoyance in his stomach. Wonwoo was afraid it got lost somewhere in the ocean of other things Mingyu made him feel last night.
"I do not sub first chance I get," he hisses back. "You worked fucking overtime to get me there, don't forget that now."
Mingyu has the audacity to grin. "All of that just for me then? Husband material."
"Stop."
Mingyu chuckles. He leaves his drink to the stand beside them, and then he takes Wonwoo's too.
"Come here, you attractive asshole."
Wonwoo gets pulled to a kiss, slow and unhurried, as if Mingyu's certain he won't get pushed away. He leans Wonwoo's head back on the cushion and nips at his lower lip, asking for entrance.
This does not help Wonwoo in keeping up appearances. It doesn't help at all, because a few moments later, permission is granted.
Wonwoo doesn't realize when his eyes fall shut to simply enjoy the kiss. It's soft, all of it, Mingyu caressing each of his lips separately, soothing him with his tongue. A breath shudders out of Wonwoo, a hand coming to curl on Mingyu's shirt collar. He opens his mouth further, his own tongue joining the dance. He shivers when Mingyu licks at it too.
It's a salty breeze that gets them to separate, god knows how much later. A particularly big wave, making the yacht bounce. Wonwoo's dazed once again.
He comes back to his mind when he hears chatter from the other side of the deck. He abruptly sits up straight.
"I'd like to remind everyone of the NDAs we all signed!" he calls to the group of girls who are grinning at him. "Don't let me catch any photos uploaded!"
"Geez, okay Karen," Mingyu flicks his cheek, and then throws an arm over his shoulder. "Do listen to him though!" he calls to the girls. "He has a girlfriend!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Wonwoo tries to hit him, mortified, but Mingyu just catches his wrist and places a kiss on his fingers.
"Don't worry guys!" one of the girls calls back. "What happens in Lady Vera, stays in Lady Vera."
~~~
There is something about the cushions around the jacuzzi that makes Wonwoo very unwilling to move away from them. Something about the soft fabric beneath his back, or his feet dangling in bubbling water. Mingyu talks about anything and everything, irrelevant small talk that Wonwoo doesn't think much of joining. The hours pass and they remain sprawled on the upper deck, gazing up at the sky or the ocean. Blue over blue.
The sky starts turning orange at some point. A few clouds make a brief appearance, and Wonwoo takes off his shades to look at them better. The sky has stayed clear during the entire time their mojito glasses have been getting emptied and refilled. By the time Mingyu elbows him to watch the sunset, Wonwoo's pleasantly buzzed. As he watches the sunset, head leaning back on the railing, he realizes it's the laziest day he's had in years.
"Are you hungry?" Mingyu asks at some point, eyes roaming over the horizon.
"No," Wonwoo replies. They ate the little appetizer dishes that were offered along the mojitos, an array of olives and cheeses and bruschettas. "I don't wanna move."
"I hear there is a private cinema room in here," Mingyu says. "Wanna check it out?"
"Hmm, do we get to pick the movie?"
"Probably," Mingyu shrugs with one shoulder. "There's this movie I've been meaning to watch, Saltburn or something. Have you heard of it?"
Wonwoo has already watched it twice.
"No," he says though. "Let's watch that."
They do find the cinema room, albeit a little slowly. A whole day of inactivity has left them both sluggish, and Wonwoo is content to just walk inside and leave Mingyu to sign for their session. The room is not that big, but a huge screen stretches on the inner wall. A curved, leather couch is placed opposite of it, matching footstools on each of its sides. Wonwoo promptly takes a seat in the middle, throwing his feet up. He did pull his shirt on before leaving the jacuzzi deck, but his swimming trunks have remained, short and loose. His skin touches the couch below, and he's thankful for the smooth texture of it.
Mingyu walks in a bit later and closes the door, tossing a remote control on Wonwoo's lap. "We have three hours," he says, taking a seat next to him. Right next to him, when there is an entire couch on either of Wonwoo's sides. Wonwoo sighs.
They start the movie, and Wonwoo pretends to be engrossed. It's funny how much of a difference it makes to know all of the plot twists right from the beginning, especially for movies like this. Mingyu, clueless, starts making predictions, delighted at the homosexual undertones the movie begins with.
Oh boy. He's in for a surprise, and Wonwoo finds himself extremely amused.
The enthusiasm does raise the question of Mingyu's sexuality though. Wonwoo steals glances at him, his flawless skin, his manicured nails. He can't reach a conclusion based just on his appearance, but he's at least certain Mingyu has experience with men. Last night he didn't seem anywhere near out of his depth.
It's a brand new experience to think about someone's sexuality in this context. Not because there's an imminent scandal surrounding them, but simply because Wonwoo's...
What? Interested? He internally rolls his eyes. Involved, more like it.
It's not as intense watching a movie when you know exactly what's happening, so Wonwoo finds himself relaxing once again. He looks at Mingyu, somehow more absorbed with him than the movie itself. Mingyu's body is warm, and there's no way he's going to push him away, so Wonwoo doesn’t think about involving himself a little more. He subtly leans towards him, a faint pressure against his shoulder.
Mingyu glances at him, attention briefly diverted from the movie, but he doesn't say anything. He's relaxed too, legs spread open in a way Wonwoo would have been scolded for back home. He has half the mind to scold Mingyu too, but he can't be bothered. It's just them anyway.
Just them, behind a closed door. It must cross Mingyu's mind at the same time as Wonwoo's, because the next moment, he throws his arm over Wonwoo's lap.
Distracting, all of it. If Wonwoo was actually watching the movie, he would have been annoyed, but he's not really doing that. He experimentally tugs at Mingyu's arm, making himself more comfortable behind it. He leans closer to his body, breaking the straight sitting position he can't remain on for long anyway. It's whatever.
Mingyu's hand on his lap doesn't remain idle either. He was speaking so much before, but now he falls quiet as he starts caressing Wonwoo's thigh. Slow and distracted, because he's still engrossed in the movie, but even absent-minded, the intention to touch is there.
Wonwoo's tired. He did nothing all day, but it still feels like he ran a marathon. Like maybe he's been running all this time, and this not a finish line by any means, but it is a break under the shade of a tree. A break to refresh himself, hide from the sun.
Nayoung doesn't touch him like that after a long day anymore, soothingly, lazily, not after enough rejections. He doesn't touch her either, he usually can't be bothered when there are more pressing matters to attend to. He wonders now, if extra work was worth it to deprive them both of this simple intimacy.
Mingyu's fingers travel from his knee to his pelvis, over and below his shorts, he doesn't discriminate. It leaves Wonwoo's skin tingling pleasantly, makes something let loose inside him. Once again, he has the urge to curl in this man's arms.
He doesn't manage to completely push it away, not this time. The further the movie progresses, Wonwoo finds himself leaning against the other more and more, until he tries to adjust his position and realizes that his cheek has been squished on Mingyu's shoulder for a while now. The tugs at the arm on his lap, they have turned to a hold, small caresses of themselves. Wonwoo looks at his hands, curled around Mingyu's forearm, his wrist, and he finds his thumbs drawing small circles on the other's skin.
If it is a shock, it is a muted one. There are a lot of things Mingyu has managed to pull out of him that Wonwoo didn't know he craved, and affection apparently is one of them.
Mingyu's touch feels good all over, but especially so when his fingers snake below Wonwoo's shorts. Especially when they graze his inner thighs. It's never more than a feather's touch, but as the movie progresses, Wonwoo spreads his legs a little more. Urging Mingyu a little higher each time.
Honestly, he didn't know what he was expecting to happen. He's unused to all of this, his body reacts. They must be halfway through the movie when something warm drips in his stomach, and it's not annoyance. He's comfortable. He's relaxed. He's getting touched in intimate places. When Mingyu's fingers graze over the bulge in his shorts, his only reaction is to sigh in content.
He doesn't rush anything along, letting Mingyu's caresses spread between his legs too instead of only on his thighs. Over his shorts, but that's almost better. Wonwoo's own fingers travel up Mingyu's bicep, wanting to touch back, wanting to hug him close to his chest. When he dares look at Mingyu's face, he finds him still paying careful attention to the movie. As if all of this is a side quest.
Whatever. Wonwoo's eyes slip shut. He doesn't care either, he just wants this to continue. He's content to just let this go on forever, no peak, just steady sensations.
And then, Mingyu's hand slips in his swimming trunks. A soft sound escapes Wonwoo's lips.
"You're so easy," Mingyu whispers to him, a smirk audible in his voice.
"Mm," Wonwoo shifts closer, buries his face in the other's shoulder.
Mingyu takes him out of his shorts, the air cold on his moist skin. When did he even get so worked up? Wonwoo wasn't aware of it, until Mingyu balls his fist around him and starts stroking.
It's nothing like last night, the urgency, the roughness. Yesterday, Wonwoo's body was going through all five stages of grief at once, but now he doesn't have the strength for that. He's loose, open, fucking cuddly. And Mingyu, accordingly, works him slower than a public worker on a Sunday evening.
Nothing like last night, expect the control is still there. Mingyu gives him exactly what he wants, and Wonwoo doesn’t dare ask for more.
This is going to take forever.
"Mingyu," Wonwoo whispers back, a little whiny, but what the hell. It's not like Mingyu will mind.
"Shh," Mingyu gives him a little squeeze. "I'm enjoying the movie."
Correction. This is going to take forever.
Wonwoo spreads his legs more, resigning himself to it. And fuck, it feels good. The unhurried, slick friction, pleasure for the sake of pleasure. His skin is so sensitized, he feels his shirt rubbing against his chest. His mouth falls a little open, lips brushing against Mingyu's shoulder.
And he remains exactly like this for the rest half of the movie.
He doesn't know how much later it is that it starts feeling a bit too good. Mingyu's pace hasn't changed, he's barely given any other reaction than surprised exclaims at the turn of events in the movie. Wonwoo's a puddle next to him though, and he's melting through the seat.
"Mingyu..." he tries again, hips bucking up a bit. "Can you..."
Mingyu glances down at him, first his face and then his lap. He pauses momentarily, licking his lips. And then, instead of continuing, he clicks his tongue and reaches for his own pants.
It only now occurs to Wonwoo to look at his body. Specifically, the hard cock that he pulls out of his own shorts. Wonwoo eyes it and gives a small smile himself.
"Who's the easy one now? I didn't even touch you."
"Would you like to try?" Mingyu murmurs back.
"No."
Mingyu's next two strokes are hard and firm and perfect. A moan slips out of Wonwoo.
"Are you sure?" Mingyu repeats, his tone all honeyed and promising.
And Wonwoo has to admit, it's too tempting. Touching his cock, making him feel the same pleasure Wonwoo's feeling. Just the image of them sitting in the dark, jerking each other while watching a movie, it does things to him. It's the least straight thing Wonwoo feels like he's about to do.
"Never done this before," he mutters as he shifts, getting a hand on Mingyu's lap.
"You don't touch yourself?"
"It's not the same."
"You're right," Mingyu grins, eyes back to the movie. "Mine's bigger."
Fucker.
Wonwoo loses his mind, a little bit. Especially because yes, it's really not that different than touching himself. He finds his inexperience is not debilitating, and it's extremely satisfying when Mingyu throws his head back on the couch and groans. It spurs Wonwoo on, the fact that he can get to him, if he tries. That he's not the only defenseless one here.
But well, he's at a disadvantage. Mingyu's been teasing him for more than hour. When he starts jerking him for real, Wonwoo comes undone. His eyes fall shut, whole body coming alive. He doesn't realize his hand also stills on Mingyu, until the other wraps his own around it and uses it to jerk himself.
"Try not to make a mess," Mingyu murmurs in his ear, and oh, his voice. It's part of the spell, part of the reason Wonwoo finds himself so easily aroused in his presence.
It's fortunate that Mingyu's holding him when he spills, because he would have totally made a mess. His nails dig into Mingyu's arm, he presses his forehead on his shoulder. He's silent about it, but it's probably the most satisfying orgasm Wonwoo's had in his life. Not the most intense, but the way it builds. The pure relief of it, the way it leaves him boneless...
He opens his eyes again just in time to hear Mingyu gasping, and then something thick and slimy wets Wonwoo's hand. He has half the mind to catch as much of it as he can, awed at how everything happens. How Mingyu's cock pulses in his hand, how his abdomen clenches. He doesn't notice such things when he jerks himself, how... erotic this whole ordeal is.
How into it he is.
He's still cuddling Mingyu's arm to his chest, half out of this world, when Mingyu stretches to get some tissues from the stand next to the couch. He uses them to wipe his hand first, and then Wonwoo's, before tucking them both back in their shorts. When everything's said and done and his attention is back on the movie, he wraps an arm around Wonwoo's back and pulls him to his chest.
Oh.
That's Wonwoo's cue to back away, isn't it? He doesn't let Nayoung lie on his chest when they're done. To be on the other side of it now...
Tentatively, he brings his hand around Mingyu's waist. It feels fragile, every little move he makes. As if he's going to get pushed away any moment now.
He's not. Mingyu's not him, he's been proving it over and over for two days now. He's better. Wonwoo sighs when a hand trails up his back to tangle in his hair. It softly brushes it away from his eyes.
"Okay?" Mingyu asks. Wonwoo nods. If he silences his thoughts, he can hear Mingyu's heartbeat.
"The plot twist is that the main character indirectly kills everyone and takes their riches, by the way," Mingyu says, attention diverted once again. "Since you can't be bothered to watch. He's doing a gay little dance right now."
"I'm aware," Wonwoo replies, cheek pressed between the other's pecks. "I've already watched this movie."
"What?" A pause. When he realizes, Mingyu clicks his tongue. "You're so annoying. Were you laughing at my predictions all along?"
"Of course I was."
Mingyu sighs, his hands falling on Wonwoo's waist. He still doesn't tell him to move. Something fond overtakes Wonwoo and he huffs, amused. Before he thinks anything through, he leans up and presses a kiss to Mingyu's neck.
"Yeah, yeah, act cute now," Mingyu grumbles, his hold tightening a bit nevertheless.
"Alright," Wonwoo replies, grabs Mingyu's chin, and lowers him down for a real kiss.
Something jumps in Wonwoo's chest when Mingyu completely lifts him in his lap to kiss him back. Something tightening and expanding, and he has to admit, it's a darn good feeling.
~~~
The next morning, Wonwoo wakes up in Mingyu's bed again. And if anyone asks, it's because he got his well-deserved massage and fell asleep midway. No other reason.
His phone is vibrating, silenced so it wouldn’t wake him up. Wonwoo glances at the screen and winces. He promised Nayoung he’d pick up if he could. When he sees her again, this is yet another thing he’ll have to apologize for. He can’t imagine himself talking to her right now though, so he just lets the phone vibrate until it stops.
Wonwoo takes a moment to stare out the window, at the shutters they didn't bother closing so they could look at the rolling waves as they fell asleep. The room is filled with light now, fresh morning rays warming up the carpet.
They also aren't moving anymore. They've docked on an island, the first one out of the three Lady Vera is set to visit this week. Wonwoo didn't bother looking up tourist attractions on any of them beforehand. He knew he wasn't going to disembark, and right now, with a heavy arm thrown around his middle and fresh marks on his neck, he confirms it was the right choice.
He's up earlier than Mingyu this time. He showers first and then he slips to his room for a change of clothes. He spots his father's watch on his desk, carelessly thrown when he was putting on his swim trunks yesterday. He debates wearing it again now, see if it fits any different, even though that's an absurd thought. This watch is all about managing expectations, giving a debate partner a clear image of who Wonwoo's supposed to be.
On this ship, that debate partner is Mingyu. Wonwoo’s not sure he could sway Mingyu’s opinion of him if he tried now, not after everything the other’s seen.
In the end, Wonwoo puts on his slim-fitting designer shirt and the custom-made spectacles he omitted yesterday, but he leaves the room without the watch.
He finds a good place to lounge, inside of the first deck's salon. Large round windows and modern artwork adorn the walls, potted plants with shiny leaves on every corner. Cream furniture. It's especially empty today, with everyone visiting the island. Wonwoo hears something about beaches with black sands, and he understands everyone's eagerness to explore. He just doesn't share it.
An attendant comes to ask if he needs anything. Wonwoo has to bite his tongue to not just burst out in a rant.
He needs to find his back bone. He needs to fix his relationship. He needs to end his relationship. He needs to succeed his father. He needs to start his own family. He needs to talk to someone, anyone, about everything that has happened to him these last few days.
He needs this vacation to end already. He needs it to keep going forever.
In the end, he just asks for a cigar.
He sits and smokes, one leg crossed over the other. His gaze travels from the exotic port on one side of the boat, to the horizon on the other. Tamed nature between wooden piers versus forever untamable oceans. Wonwoo's smack-dab in the middle.
It's not that much later that Mingyu struts in the lounge, scanning it as if he's searching for something. He's wearing proper clothes too, a black Polo shirt that perfectly hugs his arms. An outfit meant for exploring.
"Oi, there you are!" he exclaims when he sees Wonwoo. "Thought you left already. Are we going to town?"
"No," Wonwoo replies calmly, taking a drag off his cigar.
"What? Why?"
"You can go," Wonwoo makes a motion with his hand, as if giving permission. "I'm not in the mood."
"Oh come on," Mingyu sits on the armchair opposite of his. "Who am I meant to go on an island date with if not you?"
"Definitely not me," Wonwoo frowns. "Townspeople haven't signed NDAs."
Mingyu sighs. "Fiiiine." He looks outside the window, lips pursed in indecision. "Alright, we'll stay," he announces in the end, also crossing his legs. "I suppose one doesn't get bored of Lady Vera."
"You don't need to stay inside for me," Wonwoo points out.
"Psh, I can always rent another yacht and come back here," Mingyu shrugs. "But my time with you is limited."
Wonwoo's cigar isn't finished, and yet he craves another one. He craves all of them, and then some. Maybe if he fills himself with smoke, it will hide the pang of disappointment that these words cause.
He rubs his forehead, so uncomfortable at it all. His own sexuality most of all, but Mingyu himself too. Will a part of Wonwoo dare miss him after the week is up? Is this what this unpleasant feeling is all about?
"Want to try me in poker again?" Mingyu asks. "I won't go easy on you this time."
"You weren't going easy last time either," Wonwoo reminds him.
"Well," Mingyu grins. "You don't like it easy."
He will miss him, Wonwoo realizes with a start. His cunning brain and his silver tongue and his dubious intentions. The way he keeps catching Wonwoo unprepared, in a world where being prepared means everything. Wonwoo will miss him, and that's not even taking sex into account. It's quite the disturbing thought.
Wonwoo agrees to cards, and an attendant soon brings them a deck. Wonwoo's cigar is stumped out, his hands full. His cards are appropriately awful.
"What does your father do anyway?" he asks Mingyu, hoping to... what? Find a connection? A possible reason to excuse further acquaintance? He's being stupid.
"He's in fuel production and distribution," Mingyu replies with a vagueness that must be practiced.
In any case, Wonwoo files that information in his head. Maybe he can tell his father of the friend he made on his vacation and... and what? Do business together? Wonwoo clicks his tongue and throws his cards on the table, less because of his hopeless hand and more because he can't stand himself when he's desperate. He hates grasping at straws.
"Someone's in a bad mood," Mingyu eyes him carefully. "Are you sure you want to play?"
"I do. Deal again."
"Not if you can't focus and you suck at it," Mingyu says. "You said you could take it, baby."
On a second thought, how would he ever survive having Mingyu in his more permanent life? The person Wonwoo is, to his family and his employees and the media, is absolutely not this blushing idiot. Mingyu would mess him up. He'd have the potential to destroy him and he'd use it. Maybe it's a blessing, actually, that they met here, with a time limit to act as a safety net. A blessing that they have a bed and privacy to blow all this tension on, instead of killing each other with business. In the real world, Wonwoo would have died before admitting his desire. But here...
"Yeah, okay," he allows himself at least this. "For this week only, I'll take it."
~~~
The inconspicuous little island turns out to be a paradise of night life. One wouldn't be able to tell in the morning, with the silence of the wooden, creaky docks and the palm trees peacefully swaying in the breeze, but when the sun leaves from the sky, the beach bars come to life.
It's near midnight again, and the ship is empty. Even the staff have been given permission to disembark, leaving only a few security guards on board.
A few securities guards, Wonwoo, and Mingyu.
"Stop looking at the beach like that," Wonwoo tells him. "You can go, you know."
"I'm not looking at it because I want to go," Mingyu replies, eyes glued to the people having fun below.
"Then?"
"I'm just thinking that from down there, the third floor won't be visible."
It's a bit alarming how easily Wonwoo is able to follow his train of thought, considering how little he has known him for.
"What do you say?" Mingyu asks him, a devious little glint in his eyes. "Wanna go for a skinny dip in the jacuzzi?"
"I don't know," Wonwoo looks at the beach himself. Mingyu's calculated right, nobody will be able to see them from so far away. "What if someone returns early?"
Mingyu shrugs. "What are the chances they'll come up all the way to third floor?"
"Not insignificant."
"You'll have to bet on it then. C'mon," Mingyu nudges him. "I already know you're a gambler."
"Am I now?" Wonwoo raises an eyebrow.
"Of course. It's part of your charm," Mingyu winks.
Wonwoo has to fight a smile back. "Is it part of yours to be convincing?"
"You tell me, your Majesty."
Wonwoo twirls his drink in his hand, a cocktail with rum and coconut and cinnamon. The rare type of sweet he likes in a drink. He regards the man in front of him, smooth with his words, persuasive. Wonwoo usually hates manipulative people, but Mingyu is just like this coconut cocktail. Just sweet enough to be in his tastes.
"Alright, let's go," he agrees and downs the rest of his cocktail.
The jacuzzi pool looks different in the night. There aren't hundreds of lights around it, not like there are on the rest of the floors. It's dimmer up here, with only the moonlight above them, and the blue lights that are inside the pool. Tiny spotlights that make the water glow, showcasing how clean it is. Shadows of ripples reflect on the bottom, little bubbles from the water jets beneath the surface.
Wonwoo takes off his slippers and dips a toe in, finding the water warm. It parts easily around him, inviting the rest of his body inside too. Besides him, Mingyu takes his shirt off.
It's reckless, what they're doing. Literally anyone, even the guards can walk in on them. Wonwoo hesitates for a moment, until Mingyu's pants drop to the ground.
Mingyu walks in first, the light itself parting to welcome him inside. His chest gets wet, skin glistening over his pecks and dripping down his stomach. He dips his head below water briefly, so he can brush his hair back, arms flexing as he does. Droplets also land on his broad shoulders, following the arch of his spine and disappearing down his extremely bare ass.
He looks like a god emerging from a holy lake. Like Poseidon himself has blessed him with the most impressive wet look. And when this god turns back to Wonwoo with an expectant look, what is he supposed to do? There is no way this becomes the first time Wonwoo tells him no.
If someone walks in on them, so what? What are they going to do, scold them? Them? Wonwoo finds amusement just at the idea. Without saying anything, he starts undoing his own pants. Mingyu holds out his hand when it's time, and Wonwoo takes it.
"You look gorgeous," Mingyu tells him, looking at him up and down unabashedly.
Wonwoo wants to ask him if he's looked in a mirror recently, but he can't find the words. He then wants to make a follow up question, about how does Mingyu get to call other men gorgeous without losing face. He can't find these words either.
Wonwoo sits down on the edge inside the pool, on a ledge opposite of Mingyu. The water still feels as great as it did yesterday. Only that now, Wonwoo's naked.
"Come on, stretch your legs," Mingyu pats his own thighs below the water, so Wonwoo slowly lifts his legs on his lap.
Mingyu rubs his calf, massages down his shin. Coupled with the water jets smoothing out the knots in his back, it makes for a deeply relaxing feeling.
"You keep..." Wonwoo starts saying, and promptly loses his words again. "…Nevermind."
"I keep what?" Mingyu urges him.
"I don't know how to say it," Wonwoo looks away, over to the waving palm trees on the beach, now bright with strobe lights.
"Try," Mingyu circles his finger around his ankle.
Wonwoo sighs. He should have kept his mouth shut. "I don't know. You keep making me feel like this... It's weird."
"How do I make you feel?" Mingyu asks, and if it was accompanied by one of his usual annoying smirks, Wonwoo would have kicked him. It's not though. It's a genuine question, asking for a genuine answer.
Wonwoo squirms. "Like I'm okay. More than okay, like I'm..."
This is hard, a lot harder than expected. Feelings is not usually a hard topic for Wonwoo to discuss, not when they're his usual, calm ones. The ones he's supposed to feel. Whatever Mingyu's making him feel now is definitely not what he's supposed to be feeling. He has taken his normal, settled self and he has set it ablaze. How is Wonwoo supposed to find words for that?
Why does he even want to, so badly? What about this setting made him think that it’d be okay to speak his mind? Foolish, that’s what he is. But Mingyu encourages him, so maybe he’s the real idiot here.
"Like I'm made of want," Wonwoo finishes. "I don't crave stuff Mingyu, I have everything I could possibly need. But you've opened a pit in my stomach and now I want to..."
Wonwoo huffs. If he admits it, it's real. As long as he keeps his mouth shut, it's not.
Mingyu slowly pries his legs open, letting them rest on either side of his waist. He gives all the time in the world for Wonwoo to take him in, his smoldering eyes that keep looking at him like he already knows what Wonwoo's going to say. Like they've known since they first laid eyes on him.
Mingyu's palms continue traveling up his legs, past his knees and the plump part of his thighs, until he can't reach without moving from the ledge. And then, he pushes himself away from it, hands cupping Wonwoo's outer thighs as his body draws near. Wonwoo glances down, both above and below the water, heart speeding up at a naked Mingyu approaching him like this. He looks so damn good. Wonwoo wishes he could just tell him.
"What do you want?" Mingyu says quietly, when he's right in front of Wonwoo's space.
"What I want…" Wonwoo brings a hand up to cup his cheek. He bites his lips, a little nervous all of a sudden. "If I admit it, you need to give it to me."
"Yeah?" Mingyu leans against his palm. "Tell me what I need to give you, then."
He knows, there’s no way he doesn’t. The way he speaks, the way he acts, he has figured it out long before Wonwoo. "Why are you making me say it?" Wonwoo frowns.
"Free therapy session," Mingyu kisses his palm. “Let it out.”
"Shut up," Wonwoo whispers, a shiver making its way down his arm. And then, much quieter. "I want you."
"Hm? Really?" Mingyu's eyes glint when he looks at him. "Is this the first time you've ever wanted someone like this?"
"Don't mock me," Wonwoo closes his eyes. "I have a girlfriend. I've had more, before her. It shouldn't be the first time."
"But...?"
"But," Wonwoo agrees. "There is a but there that I can't figure out."
A beat of silence.
"Alright," Mingyu pries Wonwoo's palm away from his cheek only to put it around his neck. "It's alright, Wonwoo. I'll show you what it means to want me." A kiss against his neck. "This is making me really hard, by the way."
Wonwoo huffs a laugh, his neck already tingling. Not annoyed, but amused. What a damning change.
"Lucky me," he says. "I do feel it, by the way. You're naked."
"And wasn't that a glorious idea?" Mingyu says and kisses him.
Wonwoo sighs, wrapping both his arms around Mingyu's neck. He also wraps his legs around him, bringing their bodies flush against each other. The water makes everything more sluggish, weightless. Mingyu's wet and slick chest against his, the water jets still caressing his back. Wonwoo's hand tightens on Mingyu's neck.
"You're a really good kisser," Mingyu mutters against his lips.
Am I?
"Your whole body responds to it."
Does it?!
Wonwoo has had many distinctive, sperate occasions of being called stiff. It does something to him, that for once, he doesn't need to try to be liked.
"Kiss me more then," Wonwoo breathes, desire swirling in his gut. "Kiss me everywhere."
"Hm. Alright," Mingyu says, and then Wonwoo gets lifted out of the pool.
He gets deposited on the cushions around its edge, legs still dangling in the water below. Mingyu presses a few kisses on his neck, before he kneels back inside the water.
"They say you haven't experienced a blowjob until you get one from a gay man," Mingyu licks his lips. "Since you had girlfriends before, do tell me if that's true."
And then, he swallows Wonwoo's cock down. Wonwoo gasps, hands instantly flying to Mingyu's hair. Mingyu keeps his head down, swallowing around him while somehow not choking, and Wonwoo's gasp turns to a moan. He's still sensitive, water from his fair dripping all over his naked body. Mingyu's mouth feels like heaven.
"It's good," he says quickly, too quickly probably. Mingyu pulls back enough that Wonwoo can feel his lips stretching to a smile around him.
He starts bobbing his head, both palms planted at Wonwoo's thighs to keep them open. Each time, he manages to take Wonwoo down all the way, the muscles of his throat expertly relaxed. He doesn't waste time teasing, he keeps sucking and swallowing like he has a point to prove.
"It's good, 's good," Wonwoo mumbles, his back arching, his head thrown back. "Fuck, yes..."
Mingyu lets him go with a pop. A hand replaces his mouth, firmly tugging at Wonwoo's spit-slicked cock. Mingyu's mouth doesn't go far either though, it only dips to his wet thighs. He bites hard.
Wonwoo lets out a whimper, hand trembling on Mingyu's hair. Mingyu bites him again, lower, and when Wonwoo cries out, he begins sucking a mark there. Wonwoo instinctively tries to close his legs at the attack, but Mingyu keeps them spread. He lets Wonwoo's cock bounce uselessly as he attacks his thighs, a tongue darting out to soothe the affected areas. He is so close to very sensitive parts, that even a brush of his cheek makes Wonwoo jerk.
When Wonwoo's legs start feeling like jelly and he stops squirming so much, Mingyu pulls back and wipes his hand with the back of his mouth. "Can't leave marks anymore if you want them faded in time," he says. "Not in visible places anyway."
"Please..." Wonwoo reaches for him again, tries to pull him closer. "Your mouth..."
"Right," Mingyu pushes Wonwoo's legs open once more. He smiles to himself. "I guess this answers my question. Never heard you begging before."
And then he takes him back in, and Wonwoo can’t beat himself too much over his patheticness. His abdomen trembles as Mingyu starts working him again, tongue twirling around, his lips tight and wet. He would have closed his eyes to get the full experience, block out anything that isn't Mingyu's touch, but oh, the sight of him.
His wet hair, his moving throat, the dark eyelashes over his flushed cheeks. The way the water splashes around as he goes down on him. His abs flexing below the surface, and thighs strong where he's kneeling. Wonwoo can't take it anymore.
"You're so handsome," he blurts, brushing Mingyu's hair instead of clutching so tightly. "And you're so... ah, so good at this."
Mingyu glances up at him, probably surprised to hear him talking. To even have the presence of mind for it. But Wonwoo can't help it anymore, there's so many words bitten behind his teeth.
"Want you to take me out here, where everyone can walk in," Wonwoo keeps rambling. "Want you to brag that you've managed to make me yours, you asshole. That you're the only one... ah, shit, that feels so good."
Mingyu groans around him, a hand disappearing below the clean water to touch himself. His eyes have gone half lidded, but he still refuses to take them off of Wonwoo.
"Keep going," he pulls back enough to say, only for Wonwoo to tug him back down.
"Shut up, you keep going," he whines. "Fuck Mingyu, are you going to swallow?"
Mingyu groans around his length again, letting go of himself. Did he reach the edge already?
"Are you burning too, Min?" Wonwoo breaths, hand sliding from Mingyu's hair to his straining jaw. "Are you so aroused that it's making you a little crazy too?"
A hand snakes between Wonwoo's thighs. Mingyu spits on it, before taking him back in his mouth. A finger finds Wonwoo's hole, clumsy and rough. Wonwoo blows out a breath and falls backwards on the cushions, his legs still dangling in the water.
"Yeah, put it in," he whispers, uncertain if Mingyu actually hears him. He pulls one leg out of the water, folds it so it is firmly planted on a cushion. It leaves him wide open in front of the other's face. "Put it in me, c'mon..."
The moment he gets the space for it, Mingyu instantly indulges him. Wonwoo's cock jerks in the other's mouth, his lips parting in a silent moan. He stays still for a bit, letting Mingyu work him from both ways, until that becomes impossible too.
"Let me fuck your mouth," Wonwoo says, lifting his upper body up on his elbows. "Your damn clever mouth, I want to shut you up for once. Stand still."
Mingyu indulges him yet again, and Wonwoo starts rolling his hips. With every forward movement, his tip hits the back of Mingyu's throat, and with every withdrawal, he fucks himself on his finger. The pleasure is blinding, and it manages to finally shut him up too. He can only move and feel, his thrusts becoming jerky as he approaches a climax.
Mingyu's free hand smooths its way up Wonwoo's stomach, fingers splayed and strong. He rubs Wonwoo's body, his chest, his sides, his hips, and when it reaches below his abdomen, he presses down. Wonwoo's gone.
The extra pressure makes his orgasm shoot out of him, straight onto Mingyu's awaiting tongue. His body slams back down on the cushions, hands flying up to grab something above him.
"You're so... fucking... good at this," Wonwoo says between spasms, his muscles clenching and unclenching in rhythm, Mingyu’s finger still moving inside him.
Mingyu suckles at his head until he's all spent, but then, he doesn't swallow. Wonwoo hears him spit, and then the water sloshes as he stands up. Slick noises follow, and Wonwoo opens his eyes just in time to see him pumping his cock close to Wonwoo's entrance.
Wonwoo groans, boneless already. He says nothing as his leg is pushed further back, as Mingyu positions himself. It's filthy. They're still partly in the jacuzzi. They're making a mess out of everything, and there's no way Wonwoo's tipping anyone to clean this up afterwards. This was Mingyu's idea in the first place.
And what a spectacular idea it was. Mingyu pushes in, and there's barley any resistance after three days of this.
"Nothing to say now?" Mingyu speaks, his voice low and wrecked. Because he just had Wonwoo down his throat. The image is still too vivid. "Your mouth was quite filthy before, what happened?"
"You happened," Wonwoo pants. "Take over, I don't want to hear myself anymore."
"Is that so?" Mingyu pulls back slowly. "But you sounded so hot. Wanna hear you again." He slams back in.
Wonwoo cries out. Mingyu pulls out again.
"Louder."
He slams back in.
"What the fu-ah!"
"Louder."
"Mingyu!" Wonwoo shouts, way too loud for the place they're at. Mingyu smirks.
"Excuse me, is there someone up there?" a voice suddenly comes from down the stairs.
Like a mirror shattering, the illusion of privacy breaks. As if cold water pours on both their heads, they both freeze. For a second, they can only exchange alarmed glances.
"Shit," Mingyu whispers then, quickly pulling out. With their gamble lost, they both jump to action, putting on clothes and pretending like the cushions around the jacuzzi are not wet with more than water. There's no way either of them looks decent enough when three guys appear on the deck. Mingyu has to sit cross-legged, erection hidden beneath his shirt. Wonwoo almost trips because he can't stand up.
"Oh, hey guys," the dudes greet them, and Wonwoo recognizes their faces. Taejin, Jaewoon and Minhyuk, the poker guys with the inadequate cocks.
"Hey!" Mingyu greets them back, as if they are friends. "How was the beach?"
It's impressive how easily he manages to mask his voice. Wonwoo remembers he used to have this skill too, once upon a time. If he tries to open his mouth now though, he'll scream. It's becoming habit to hide behind Mingyu when they talk to other people anyway, so Wonwoo focuses on his breaths and lets him handle it.
"Pretty good man. The locals... Oh, the locals know how to greet tourists," Minhyuk replies, voice filled with innuendo. "How come you two stayed up here?"
"Thought we could use some rest," Mingyu speaks. On closer inspection, Wonwoo can make out the strain in his voice. The annoyance. A not-so-perfect mask, then. "A bunch of drinks were spilled before we got here though, so no getting into the jacuzzi until they clean it up tomorrow."
"Oh, what the fuck! I was looking forward to the jacuzzi!” Taejin groans. “Who spilled?"
"Ha, not me!" Mingyu says, and it's not just Wonwoo this time, it does sounds hysteric. "Didn't get the fucking time," Mingyu whispers.
Wonwoo hides his eyes behind his hand. Thankfully, the guys don't seem to catch on anything. They're drunk, and Mingyu is convincing anyway. Soon enough, all of them are heading downstairs, promises of more poker matches tomorrow. Wonwoo's leaning heavily on Mingyu by the time they part, and they still don't say a single thing about it.
"Awesome," Mingyu says when they're alone again, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Get your ass in my room. I'm going to find someone to clean up there and I better find you on your knees when I return."
Wonwoo can't help but laugh, a little smitten. He gets on his tip toes to press a kiss to Mingyu's lips, affection bleeding through arousal. Mingyu pats his waist as he kisses him back, a little impatiently, and isn't that fucking endearing.
"Say please," Wonwoo presses another kiss to his cheek.
"Fuck off."
"Say pretty please, your Majesty, I'll fuck you just the way you like it if you'll be good for me again," Wonwoo whispers in his ear.
"...I knew you liked that stupid nickname," Mingyu mutters, the effect of annoyance ruined by how handsy he is.
"I love it," Wonwoo admits, and grabs his chin to give him a proper kiss.
~~~
The next few days, Lady Vera continues island hopping, her white hull piercing the waters and making the sea foam behind her. Every day, Wonwoo finds himself getting more and more used to her interior. The lounges and the bars and all the other amenities, they become familiar. Every day, he spends thinking that he'd like to have a yacht like this for himself.
And every night, he spends it in Mingyu's room.
The only times he lies in his own bed is for afternoon naps, or when Mingyu actually visits the islands. The nights though, they are always spent in each other's company. Every morning Wonwoo wakes and finds himself pressed closer and closer to Mingyu. It begins when he opens his eyes and finds their fingers linked, then their legs tangled, and before he knows it, Wonwoo's waking up with his arm thrown around Mingyu's waist, drooling over his chest.
As the days pass, he learns to embrace Mingyu. He learns to search for his hand when they take walks around the decks. He learns every single one of Mingyu's fantasies, usually spoken when the other is balls deep inside him. He learns to curl up against Mingyu before he falls asleep, to get lulled to sleep by his steady breaths.
If Mingyu wakes up before him, all he does is shift so he can wrap his own arms around Wonwoo. Instead of being woken by alarm clocks and hurried knocks at his door, Wonwoo gets used to being brought back to consciousness with a hand softly brushing his hair, a kiss pressed to his forehead.
Maybe it's wrong of him, but Wonwoo takes a few moments of these mornings to pretend that he really is that close to Mingyu. That this is a life where they know each other intimately, where affection is not stolen, but gifted. He does feel guilty about it afterwards, but he forgets Nayoung. He forgets the person she fell in love with, and finds one where he is in love himself.
The one thing he still hasn't tried on this boat, and has no intention to, is the water sports. Wind and kite surfers, canoes and kayaks, water skis and jet skis and a myriad of inflatable toys. They are all stored by the ship's lowest deck, wood skimming the surface of the water. The last day they spend docked at an island, Mingyu decides to try everything out.
Expecting to finally see him fail at something, Wonwoo sits at the black armchairs at the very edge of the first deck, where he gets a prime view of the water sports area. He orders a lime daiquiri, sunglasses perched low on his nose, and he throws his legs over the railing, excited for some reason.
He fully expects to see Mingy repeatedly getting dunked into the ocean. He does not expect him to swing on a jet ski, his swimming trunks tightening on his thick thighs, and start speeding around like he was trained for it.
Damn it.
Wonwoo sips his daiquiri, disappointment washed out by interest. He can excuse Mingyu not making a fool out of himself for his own entertainment, because when Mingyu drives by him, eyes hidden behind sunglasses and hair waving behind him, he whistles suggestively. And loudly.
Wonwoo buries his face behind his hands, a few water droplets managing to reach him from the waves below. He can hear Mingyu's laughter as he speeds away and isn't it awful how his cheeks warm up at the sound of it. He's never been catcalled before. Who would dare do that to him, other than this dumbass?
He tells himself, it's not his fault that he likes it. Mingyu's objectively hot. He looks extra cool on that damn jet ski, and he knows it, the asshole. And he keeps giving all his attention to Wonwoo. If they had a bit more time together...
Wonwoo sighs. He would have fallen for him. The inevitability of it stings.
It wasn't like that with Nayoung. It's definitely not like this now, this burning hot passion, powerful beyond reason, but it wasn't like that when they first met either. Wonwoo was always of the firm belief that there is no such thing as love at first sight. The king of emotions, the hardest one of them all, it needs careful cultivation and time to bloom. Love is not something to be thrown around like a boomerang. It won't always return to you, if it's carelessly thrown away.
For years now, he has tried his best with Nayoung. Get to know her, like her, respect her as a person, share as much of himself as possible. He has put everything he knew in this relationship, and he thought he had made it. He does love Nayoung. She's his partner in this life, in business matters and personal ones alike. Without a sliver of doubt, she's his best friend, and he is hers.
It doesn't make sense. The way his heart clenches when he looks at Mingyu doing his dumb tricks on the jet ski, the way he feels... fucking butterflies in his stomach. There is something different here, something that Wonwoo had no idea existed. Not love, not the feelings he has for Nayoung. Something entirely new and unexpected, unearthed below an impossibly hidden part of Wonwoo's psyche. A part Wonwoo wasn't even aware of, yet its absence was still felt.
It's troublesome. It's absurd. And it might be completely idiotic to call it such, but Wonwoo can't help but feel like this is a type of love too.
~~~
Wonwoo's laying on Mingyu's chest. In the darkness of the room, with the ship waving gently atop the waves, he talks.
In the beginning, it was Mingyu who always filled the silence. He has a mouth that can keep going and going, Wonwoo's never forgetting about that. It's one of things that Wonwoo can't help but find attractive, how effortlessly it comes to him, how Mingyu always knows how to use his words. How when he's with him, Wonwoo doesn't have to do the same.
A week passes though, and Wonwoo's getting comfortable with him. Too comfortable, one might say and judge him for it, but Mingyu's content to just brush his hair and let him talk his heart out. It's mostly in moments like this, late at night with the lights all turned off, that Wonwoo finds his tongue looser than it has been in years. He doesn't think, he just talks and talks, about the most random things or his most embarrassing stories, it's a fool's bet what comes out of his mouth. And Mingyu, who's usually so good at giving smart ass replies, he just listens attentively, asking questions here and there that prove he's actually paying attention.
It's a little embarrassing, but Wonwoo doesn't mind anymore. It's Mingyu. Somehow, Mingyu gets him. And it gets even less embarrassing when Mingyu confesses that he likes being the silent one, for a change. That he thinks this as a time to rest too.
So Wonwoo hugs him, more affectionate than he's ever been, both of them drained out and naked to the bone, and he blabbers on.
"I had a problem with this, you know..." he waves his palm around vaguely.
"What? Intimacy?" Mingyu asks quietly.
"Sex," Wonwoo clarifies, but he supposes Mingyu isn't wrong either. "It's never been bad per se, but it hasn't been good either."
"Oh, I bet it hasn't," Mingyu mutters under his breath.
Wonwoo ignores him. "Lately especially, I've been struggling... I mean, I was thinking about going to a doctor and all."
"I can give you a diagnosis for free," Mingyu twirls a strand of Wonwoo's hair. "Wanna hear it?"
Wonwoo shrugs with one shoulder.
Instead of replying, Mingyu tightens his grip and rolls them around. Wonwoo finds himself on his back with Mingyu above him, faces so close together that he can feel the warmth of Mingyu's skin. There is not a single part of him that wants to shove him away anymore.
"You're gay," Mingyu says. "And you're a sub."
Wonwoo huffs. He hadn't even considered it before. He never had a moment in high school that a guy looked attractive to him. He never had to wonder, it never even crossed his mind as a possibility. But come to think of it, he never looked at girls either. Never allowed to look, always keeping up appearances. Get people to respect him enough until his opinions become orders, that's what he was socialized for.
He always thought it was just his fault that he found his relationships uninteresting. This turn of events... It's unknown.
"What do I do with that?" he wonders out loud.
Mingyu just kisses him and nowadays, it is accompanied by a deep sense of comfort. Something known amidst the uncertainty. Alright, maybe he's gay, maybe he had his submissive moments, but this security? The intimacy?
Is that merely a part of his sexuality too?
He cups Mingyu's cheeks, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. It's their last night together. Lady Vera is going at full speed, returning them home. Tomorrow morning, all this might as well have been a dream.
If Wonwoo kisses Mingyu a little harder, a little more claiming, nobody's allowed to fault him. It's not his fault that he let go during this trip. Not his fault, if it was under someone else's command. It's almost over anyway.
Almost over... And he doesn't want to let Mingyu go.
As boneless as Mingyu looked a couple of minutes ago, he still scoops Wonwoo into his lap, and then into his arms. He somehow finds the strength to stand up with him, only to walk them to the nearest mirrored wall. There, he sets Wonwoo down and makes him turn around.
“Look at yourself,” he whispers in his ear.
Wonwoo can barely meet his own eyes. Mingyu grabs his jaw though, forcing his eyes forward.
“Look,” he repeats. “Do you see how beautiful you look?”
So Wonwoo looks. He searches for what it is that makes him beautiful in Mingyu’s eyes, knowing that this was the wrong adjective to use if he was referring just to his physical appearance. Wonwoo looks debauched. Flushed and messy and in disarray, leaning heavily against Mingyu’s body. There are hand-shaped bruises on his hips, hickeys all across his thighs. His nipples are puffed up, his hair clumsily held back by a clipper so they don’t get in the way. He’s hard again.
“I look like a whore,” Wonwoo mutters.
“Yeah, kinda,” Mingyu smiles, more fond than anything. Wonwoo frowns at him through the mirror. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Mingyu continues. “Like you’re finally getting to know what makes you tick. I’m going to fuck you now, and I want you to keep looking at who the real you is.”
Wonwoo braces himself against the mirror, head falling forwards and breath fogging it up. He does see himself though. Beneath all the masks he’s used to putting on, all the facades he needs to pull to deal with the day, he almost forgot how he looked like stripped of it all.
How cruel of Mingyu, to remind him on the very last moment.
~~~
Next morning, the port approaches. It looms in the distance, getting closer and closer until the air turns sour. The ocean is calmer than ever, not even the slightest breeze to disturb it. Wonwoo wonders if a week ago he would have also described it as stifling.
Mingyu and he are standing on the second deck, leaning against the railing to watch the view, as long as they still have it. They're both dressed already, all proper and buttoned up. All the accessories they didn't bother with all these days are back on, expensive watches and mysterious sunglasses. Back to carrying expectations, back to hiding expressions.
No marks are visible on Wonwoo's neck. They have faded over time. The same way this whole vacation is going to fade too, eventually. Lost, in the ever expanding journey that is time.
"Are you going to tell your girlfriend?" Mingyu asks.
Wonwoo scoffs. "Tell her what? That I don't want her romantically anymore, because a guy made me fall in love in a week?" He taps the railing, eyes glued to the water below. "Yeah right."
Mingyu looks at him for a bit, expression unreadable behind those sunglasses of his. "Is that how'd you put it?"
Wonwoo shrugs. "I don't know."
They're too close to the port. Mingyu doesn't kiss him now, but Wonwoo sees his fingers twitching. Wanting to reach, like they've freely been doing all this time. Then, he too must realize that they can't be free anymore. That their time is truly over.
It's the first time Wonwoo sees him genuinely troubled.
"Maybe we should let this go now that it's early," Mingyu says, their eyes not meeting.
It stings a bit, but maybe it's for the best. Wonwoo swallows down the hurt and he nods. They both have lives to return to. Lives that don't include each other, not by any stretch of imagination.
It keeps stinging though. If Wonwoo speaks, Mingyu will probably recognize it in his voice. So, he says nothing. He needs to go check if he has forgotten anything in his room, anyway. As if he hasn't checked a hundred times already.
Without a word, he leaves Mingyu's side.
~~~
They're about to disembark, and Wonwoo stands alone. It feels weird. He hasn't spent a single moment alone on this ship, not since the first day. He doesn't berate his heart too much for missing his vacation friend. The ship is lonely without him. Wonwoo hopes that the rest of his life won't be the same.
He sees his car waiting for him, at the exact same spot it had dropped him off. Nayoung is leaning against the passenger seat's door, talking animatedly with a bodyguard. Waiting for him. Going out of her way to come pick him up.
It's as if not a single day has passed. The clutter of the reporters, the handful of limos waiting to pick the other vacationers up. There is no environmental protest this time, Wonwoo supposes, but everything else... It's almost offensive, how the world hasn't changed alongside him.
Wonwoo stands alone, but that doesn't mean he's not surrounded by people. Most of the bodies on board are gathered around the ramp, waiting for it to get lowered as they travel those last meters on the sea. Wonwoo has nobody to speak to, but everything is loud around him, conversations, interviews, the clicking of cameras.
Wonwoo stares and stares, preparing himself to speak publicly once again, when something is slipped into his hand.
"Keep it," a voice instructs him, and Wonwoo's well used to obeying it by now. Mingyu's voice is clipped, quiet, his eyes still hidden behind his shades. Maybe that too is for the best. He does have quite the expressive eyes.
"I have a pet project of a club I manage downtown," the other continues. "I'll be glad to host you one day."
Wonwoo grips the card tight. "You shouldn't."
"It has come to my unfortunate attention that I don't actually want to let you go, your Majesty," Mingyu smiles for a camera, and Wonwoo spots the fakeness of it so easily now. "Do you?"
Wonwoo turns to look at him. Perhaps he should have worn shades too. Who knows what version of his face will be captured in the photos now.
The ship honks. End of the journey.
"You're a stubborn motherfucker," Wonwoo whispers. The ramp hits the ground. "I actually do think I'm in love with you."
Mingyu's smile widens. He squeezes Wonwoo's shoulder once, and then he walks ahead. First in line, first to step foot back on the ground. He gets the brunt of the interviewers sticking their mics in his face, allowing Wonwoo and the rest of those hanging back to slip away in relative peace.
And in the end, this is all Wonwoo gets of him, really. A business card, incriminating memories, and the possibility of a scandal if he ends up taking his offer. But that is Mingyu, Wonwoo's come to realize. Daring, unafraid and unapologetic. Always winning at poker. A man with a presence so strong, that he remains living in Wonwoo's mind long after he's welcome.
Wonwoo's life goes back to normal. His heart though, he fears that will always remain a little misplaced.