Trust me, Pretty

by BunnyMingi

Summary:

“So… what were you hunting?” Mingi asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho smiled, slow and deliberate. “Caught a few things.” His gaze never left Mingi’s. “But not animals.”

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mingi goes camping! but has a visitor.

Notes:

this was written very quick and not so proof read. so please excuse any mistakes!! also i want to mention that yunho and mingi knew each other before this encounter!!

i will post an alternate ending later ;)

Chapter 1: fun !

Mingi had started his hike just after noon, when the sun hung high in a cloudless sky, drenching the forest in warmth. The trail twisted through towering pines and thick underbrush, the earthy scent of damp soil and pine needles filling the air as he moved deeper into the woods. Every so often, birds sang to one another, and the rustle of squirrels darting between branches added life to the serene environment. The path itself was narrow, marked by small stacks of stones here and there, subtle reminders that someone had walked this way before.

Mingi liked the quiet, the solitude. Out here, the hum of the city faded into nothingness, and his thoughts could drift freely. He’d chosen this spot on purpose—far enough from town that no one would stumble upon him by accident. This was his place to breathe, to exist without interruption. After about an hour of hiking, he reached the small clearing he’d discovered on his last visit, tucked beside a lazy creek that meandered toward a mirror-like lake. He set down his pack and took a deep breath, letting the calm settle over him.

Setting up camp was second nature by now. He unfolded his tent, stretching the poles and securing them with ease. As the last stake hammered into the ground with a solid thud, he stood back, admiring his work. The tent sat snug against the edge of the forest, offering privacy from wandering eyes while still giving him a view of the lake’s glistening surface below.

Next, he built a fire ring, gathering smooth rocks from the creek’s edge and arranging them in a rough circle. He piled kindling and fallen branches inside the ring, ready for the night’s fire. With camp prepared, Mingi grabbed his fishing gear and headed toward the water, the sound of the lake’s gentle lapping against the shore drawing him in.

The lake stretched out like glass, reflecting the golden hues of the late afternoon sky. Mingi pulled out his fishing rod, baited the hook, and cast his line, watching the lure cut through the water with a soft plop. He sat on a flat rock, letting the rhythm of the fishing ease his mind. Occasionally, ripples danced across the surface, and he braced for the tug of a fish that rarely came. But he didn’t care—this was about more than catching fish. It was about being out here, alone with his thoughts, away from the noise of everything else.

After an hour or so, with two small fish caught and cleaned, Mingi wrapped them carefully in foil with a pinch of seasoning from his pack. As twilight painted the sky with deep oranges and purples, he returned to camp, placing the fish beside the fire pit and lighting the kindling. The fire crackled to life, sending sparks up toward the darkening sky, and Mingi settled close to it, relishing the warmth against the cool night air.

He skewered a marshmallow on a stick, rotating it over the fire, watching it puff and blister to a perfect golden brown. As the sugary sweetness melted between chocolate and graham crackers, Mingi felt a rare sense of contentment. But just as the peace began to settle over him, a prickle of unease crept in. The forest, so welcoming during the day, now seemed to close in on him as night fell. Shadows stretched longer, and the sounds of the woods grew sharper—twigs snapping, leaves crunching underfoot.

Mingi’s hand hovered over the chocolate as another sharp crack echoed from the darkness beyond the fire’s reach. He told himself it was just a deer. Probably. But when a louder sound—a deliberate snap—rang out, his breath caught in his throat.

“Hello?” His voice barely rose above a whisper, the sound almost swallowed by the night. His heart thudded painfully as he stared into the thick darkness beyond the firelight, his fingers curling tighter around the marshmallow stick. He debated whether to grab his flashlight or his fishing knife, but before he could decide, a figure stepped out of the shadows.

Tall and lean, with messy hair and clothes that looked weathered by days in the woods, the man emerged slowly, the firelight casting flickering shadows over his sharp features. Mingi’s heart seized, but relief came rushing in when he recognized the familiar face.

“Yunho?” His nervous laugh cracked in the still night air. “You scared me half to death, man.”

Yunho smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was small, deliberate. Too deliberate. “Didn’t mean to,” Yunho murmured, his gaze flicking over the campfire, the tent, the scattered gear. As if he were cataloging every detail. He stepped closer, the firelight throwing a deeper shadow across his face, sharpening the angles of his jaw. “Didn’t expect to find anyone else out here.”

Mingi forced a grin, still trying to shake off the unease clinging to him. “Yeah… I like the quiet.” He held up the marshmallow stick in a weak attempt to break the tension. “Want a s’more?”

Yunho’s lips curled slightly, a small smile that looked more like a smirk in the dim firelight. “Sure.” He leaned in, his fingers brushing against Mingi’s as he took the s’more. A shiver ran down Mingi’s spine at the contact—unsettling and electric all at once.

“You’re pretty trusting,” Yunho murmured between bites, his dark eyes watching Mingi intently. “Offering food to someone you barely know.”

Mingi tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. “I mean… we know each other, right? From town?”

Yunho’s smirk widened, but there was something unsettling in it. “Maybe.” He took another slow bite, as if savoring the moment. “But how do you know if i'm a serial killer or not? im all alone in the woods.”

The question sent a pulse of unease through Mingi, and he tried to steady his breath. “You’re just messing with me, right?”

Yunho leaned forward, the firelight catching in his eyes, turning them into dark embers. “What if I wasn’t?”

Mingi’s pulse quickened. He glanced at Yunho’s boots—and noticed dark stains smeared across the leather. Not mud. Something else. Something that made his throat tighten.

“So… what were you hunting?” Mingi asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho smiled, slow and deliberate. “Caught a few things.” His gaze never left Mingi’s. “But not animals.”

Mingi’s breath hitched. His heart pounded in his chest, urging him to run, to put distance between them. “ y’know It’s getting late,” he whispered, rising slowly to his feet. “I should probably head back.”

Yunho didn’t move. “Leaving so soon?” His voice was soft, almost amused. “But we were just starting to have fun, pretty.”

The way Yunho said pretty sent a jolt of fear and something else—something thrilling—through Mingi. 

A pulse of panic shot through Mingi’s body, his muscles tensing. Without thinking, he bolted into the dark woods, his breath catching as the world around him blurred into shadows and flickering firelight. The cold air burned in his lungs as he sprinted away, feet pounding against the forest floor. Branches snagged at his clothes, leaves whipping at his face, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Yunho’s low laugh echoed from somewhere behind him, smooth and unbothered, like he was toying with Mingi.

“You’re not going to get far, Mingi,” Yunho called out, his voice teasing but calm—far too calm.

Mingi’s heart hammered against his ribs as adrenaline surged through him, making his legs push harder even though they burned with every step. The forest was an endless maze of tangled roots and twisting branches, and he had no idea where he was going—he just ran, wild and desperate.

The night seemed to press in around him, thick and suffocating. Moonlight barely filtered through the canopy above, leaving everything cast in shadows. His breaths came in quick, ragged gasps, each one louder than the last, as if the forest itself was amplifying his fear.

Behind him, he could hear the steady, unhurried thud of Yunho’s boots on the ground. Not sprinting, not struggling—just keeping pace, as if the chase was more a game to him than a pursuit.

“Run faster, pretty,” Yunho’s voice carried through the trees, light and taunting. “Or I’ll catch you.”

Mingi’s breath hitched at the sound of that word— pretty . There was a playful lilt to it, but beneath that teasing tone was something darker, something that made Mingi’s chest tighten and his pulse spike. He pushed himself harder, heart pounding, lungs screaming for air.

Branches clawed at his arms, catching in his shirt and scratching at his skin, but he barely noticed. His only focus was on getting away—away from the man chasing him, away from the strange thrill creeping into his mind despite the fear.

A branch snagged the hem of his shirt, yanking him backward with a force that made him stumble. “Please, no!” Mingi cried out, his voice cracking as he tore himself free and kept running, ignoring the sting where the fabric had scraped his skin.

The ground beneath him was uneven, littered with roots and rocks. His feet slipped more than once, sending him sprawling forward only to catch himself at the last second. Every misstep felt like an invitation for Yunho to close the distance, and the thought made Mingi’s heart race faster.

The sound of footsteps was louder now—closer. Yunho wasn’t chasing him in a frenzied sprint. He didn’t need to. The steady thud of his boots was a reminder that he knew these woods better than Mingi ever would. Yunho was the predator here, and Mingi?

Mingi was the prey.

“You’re adorable when you run,” Yunho’s voice drifted closer, laced with amusement. “But you’re making this too easy.”

Mingi glanced back for a split second—a mistake. Yunho was right there, his tall frame moving effortlessly through the forest, his expression unreadable except for the glint of amusement in his eyes. Panic surged through Mingi’s veins, and he whipped his head forward, forcing himself to run faster, harder, even though his legs screamed for rest.

Then it happened—a sharp root caught his foot, and Mingi stumbled hard. He hit the ground with a harsh thud, dirt and leaves scraping against his palms as he tried to scramble back to his feet. But before he could even get his balance, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, strong and unyielding.

“Gotcha.” Yunho’s voice was low, a satisfied murmur against Mingi’s ear. His breath was warm, sending shivers down Mingi’s spine despite the chill in the night air.

Mingi struggled against Yunho’s grip, heart slamming against his ribs, but it was no use. Yunho’s hand was firm, holding him in place as if Mingi’s attempts to escape were nothing more than amusing little flutters.

“You didn’t really think you could outrun me, did you?” Yunho’s voice was soft, almost soothing, but laced with that teasing edge that made Mingi’s pulse skip wildly.

Mingi gasped, his chest heaving with each breath as he squirmed against Yunho’s hold. “Y-Yunho—please…”

Yunho’s other hand slid along Mingi’s jaw, tilting his face upward so their eyes met. His dark gaze was steady, unblinking, and for a moment, Mingi felt like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf—frozen, helpless, and oddly mesmerized.

“There’s no use begging, Mingi,” Yunho whispered, his lips curling into a slow grin. “You’re too pretty to die like this, anyway.”

Mingi’s breath hitched, and a sob bubbled in his throat as he tried to twist away again. But Yunho’s grip only tightened, his hand steady and unyielding.

“It’s not your fault,” Yunho murmured, brushing his thumb along Mingi’s cheek in a touch that was almost gentle—almost. “You got curious. You asked questions you didn’t really want answers to.”

Mingi trembled, his mind racing as he tried to grasp onto anything that would make this nightmare stop. “Please… I won’t say anything,” he whispered, his voice cracking with desperation. “I swear. Just… let me go.”

For a moment, Yunho said nothing, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. Mingi’s heart pounded in the silence, each beat a plea for mercy.

Then, Yunho’s grin softened—just a little—and he let out a low chuckle. “Relax, Mingi. I told you… I’m just playing.”

Mingi’s breath came in ragged gasps, his mind spinning as Yunho’s words sank in. He stared up at the man holding him, his heart pounding with fear, confusion, and—beneath it all—a strange, inexplicable thrill.

Before Mingi could fully process what was happening, Yunho leaned in, his lips brushing against Mingi’s in a kiss that was as unexpected as it was disarming. The kiss was slow, deliberate, testing—as if Yunho were waiting to see if Mingi would pull away.

But Mingi didn’t.

Instead, he found himself leaning into the kiss, his fear melting into something warmer, something that made his heart race for an entirely different reason. Yunho’s hand slid to the back of Mingi’s neck, his touch firm yet careful, like he was grounding him in the moment.

Mingi’s mind went blank, the forest around them fading into the background. All he could feel was the warmth of Yunho’s lips, the steady pressure of his hand, and the strange sense of safety that came with surrendering to the moment.

When Yunho finally pulled back, his dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “See?” he whispered, brushing a thumb over Mingi’s cheek. “Just a little fun.”

Mingi blinked, breathless and bewildered, his heart still thundering in his chest. “Y-you call that fun?” he stammered, voice shaky.

Yunho’s grin widened, playful and satisfied. “It was for me.”

Mingi let out a weak laugh, the sound shaky but real. He didn’t know what this was—this strange game between them, this dance of fear and teasing—but one thing was certain: he was caught. And maybe… just maybe… he didn’t mind.

“Come on, Mingi. Let’s get back to the fire.”

And with that, the game shifted again—dangerous, thrilling, and far from over.

Mingi’s legs felt unsteady as they made their way back to the fire. His heart still pounded in his chest, but not entirely from fear anymore. The lingering sensation of Yunho’s lips on his filled his mind, leaving him dizzy with confusion. Yunho walked beside him with the same ease and unbothered demeanor, like he hadn’t just chased Mingi through the forest, kissed him senseless, and whispered words that sent his pulse spiraling.

The fire crackled warmly in the clearing, casting flickering shadows that danced along Yunho’s sharp features. He sank down onto one of the logs, patting the space next to him with a sly grin. “Come on, Mingi. Sit down. You’re shaking.”

Mingi hesitated, every nerve in his body still on edge. He caught sight of the dark stains on Yunho’s boots again—those smudges that weren’t quite mud—and swallowed hard. But running hadn’t worked. Something about Yunho felt inescapable, like no matter how far Mingi fled, Yunho would always find him.

Reluctantly, Mingi lowered himself onto the log, the warmth of the fire doing little to ease the tension knotting his shoulders. His hands fumbled with the marshmallow sticks as he avoided Yunho’s gaze. He needed something—anything—to ground himself.

Yunho watched him with a quiet intensity, his dark eyes flickering in the firelight. “You okay?” he asked, voice deceptively soft. The words should have been comforting, but there was an undercurrent to them—a thread of amusement, like Yunho was still playing a game Mingi didn’t fully understand.

Mingi forced a shaky laugh, though it sounded more like a whimper. “You’ve got a really weird sense of fun, you know that?”

Yunho chuckled, a deep, low sound that sent shivers down Mingi’s spine. “You’re the one who ran. I just followed.”

Mingi bit his lip, trying to fight the way his heart reacted to Yunho’s teasing. “You chased me.”

“You gave me a reason to,” Yunho said smoothly, leaning closer until Mingi could feel the heat of his breath against his ear. “You don’t really mind, though… do you?”

Mingi’s breath hitched, every fiber of his being screaming at him to move away, to put some distance between them. But he couldn’t. There was something magnetic about Yunho—something dangerous, yes, but also intoxicating. And it terrified him how much he didn’t hate it.

“Y-you’re messing with me,” Mingi whispered, more to himself than Yunho. “This is just… some game, right?”

Yunho’s hand brushed along Mingi’s jaw, a featherlight touch that made Mingi shiver despite the fire’s warmth. “Maybe,” Yunho murmured, tilting Mingi’s chin up so their eyes met. “But you seem to be enjoying it.”

Mingi’s heart thundered against his ribcage, his mind a jumbled mess of fear, confusion, and… something else. Something that made him want to lean into Yunho’s touch instead of pulling away. “I-I don’t… I mean…”

Yunho smirked, clearly enjoying Mingi’s flustered state. “Relax, Mingi,” he whispered, his voice dipping into something softer—almost soothing. “I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Despite himself, Mingi felt the tension in his body ease slightly at Yunho’s words. But the question still gnawed at him— What does Yunho really want?

Yunho seemed to sense the turmoil swirling in Mingi’s mind, because his smirk softened into something more genuine—less predatory, more teasing. “Here.” He took one of the marshmallows from Mingi’s fumbling hands and skewered it onto the stick. “Let’s call a truce, huh? One more s’more, and I promise I’ll behave.”

Mingi let out a nervous laugh, grateful for the shift in tone. “You? Behave? I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Yunho grinned, his eyes gleaming with that familiar playfulness. “I can behave. I just don’t usually see the point.”

They sat in companionable silence as the marshmallow bubbled and browned over the fire. For the first time since Yunho had appeared, Mingi’s heart began to steady. The night felt a little less heavy, the fire’s glow a little warmer.

But even as the tension between them eased, Mingi couldn’t ignore the strange feeling lingering at the edges of his thoughts—the sense that Yunho was still holding back, like the game wasn’t truly over.

Yunho handed Mingi the finished s’more, their fingers brushing once more in a way that made Mingi’s stomach twist pleasantly. Yunho’s touch was gentle, but deliberate—like everything he did carried a hidden meaning, just out of reach.

“See?” Yunho said, his voice low and smooth. “I can be nice.”

Mingi took a bite of the s’more, the sweet, familiar taste grounding him for a moment. But when he looked up, Yunho was watching him again—closely, intently. Not with malice, but with something else. Curiosity, perhaps. Amusement. Maybe even… affection?

The thought made Mingi’s heart race all over again. He wasn’t sure if it was the firelight playing tricks on him or if Yunho’s gaze had genuinely softened. But whatever it was, it made him feel strangely safe, despite everything.

“So… what now?” Mingi asked quietly, licking a bit of melted chocolate from his thumb.

Yunho tilted his head, considering the question for a moment. Then, with a slow, deliberate grin, he leaned in just close enough that Mingi could feel his breath again.

“Now,” Yunho whispered, his voice dropping to a velvety murmur, “we finish the night however you want, pretty. It’s your call.”

Mingi’s pulse quickened at the way Yunho said pretty —not mocking this time, but fond, like a secret between the two of them.

And for the first time that night, Mingi smiled. It was small, tentative, but real. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

Yunho’s grin widened, satisfied. “Good.”

They sat together in the quiet hum of the forest, the fire crackling softly as the tension between them shifted into something warmer. The night stretched ahead of them, filled with the promise of whatever came next—whether it was more teasing, more chasing, or just the comfort of each other’s company.

And for the first time, Mingi wasn’t afraid of what that might mean.

Mingi shifted slightly on the log, trying to get comfortable as the fire crackled between them. The night around them seemed quieter now, the earlier rustling in the forest replaced by a stillness that felt almost intimate—like the woods themselves were holding their breath, watching them.

Yunho leaned back, propping himself up on his hands, his long legs stretched out casually. The ease in his posture only heightened Mingi’s awareness of how tightly wound he still felt, his hands resting stiffly on his knees.

"You can relax, you know," Yunho murmured, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he glanced at Mingi. "I’m not going to bite. Unless you ask nicely."

Mingi's face grew warm at the tease, and he quickly looked away, fiddling with the hem of his shirt to distract himself. Yunho’s playful tone was throwing him off balance, leaving him unsure how much of this was a joke and how much was something more.

The fire crackled softly, its embers glowing like tiny stars in the dark. Mingi glanced at Yunho again, catching the way the flames highlighted the curve of his jaw, the way his messy hair cast shadows over his face. The way he seemed to belong to the night itself, effortlessly comfortable in a way Mingi envied.

“You... really have a thing for scaring people, huh?” Mingi asked, though there was no real accusation in his voice—just curiosity. “Why me?”

Yunho tilted his head, studying him with a thoughtful expression, like the answer wasn’t entirely obvious even to him. “Because you’re interesting,” he said simply. “And because you didn’t run fast enough.”

Mingi huffed a soft laugh, despite himself. “That’s not exactly a compliment.”

“Sure it is,” Yunho replied smoothly, his grin widening. “Means I get to keep you here a little longer.”

The words were light, but they carried an unexpected weight that made Mingi’s heart skip. He wasn’t sure if Yunho meant them seriously or if they were just part of the ongoing game between them. And maybe—just maybe—it didn’t matter.

The fire cracked again, sending a spark upward, and Mingi found himself speaking before he could think. “You don’t, uh… you don’t have anywhere else to be?”

Yunho’s gaze softened slightly, though the playful edge never fully left his eyes. “Nope. Just here.”

The simplicity of the answer settled over Mingi like a warm blanket. There was no rush, no pressure—just the two of them, sitting together in the quiet cocoon of the forest night. It felt oddly… right.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, the crackling fire the only sound between them. Mingi leaned back slightly, letting the tension in his body finally ease, and for a moment, he forgot about the chase, the teasing, and the strange dance they’d been caught in since Yunho had appeared.

Then Yunho shifted beside him, his shoulder brushing lightly against Mingi’s. The touch was subtle, almost accidental—but Mingi knew it wasn’t.

“You cold?” Yunho asked, his voice low.

Mingi shook his head, though the truth was that the night air was cooling fast. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, but the words felt hollow even to him.

Yunho gave him a look—half amused, half fond—and, without waiting for permission, slid an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. “Come here,” he murmured, pulling him closer with a gentleness that caught Mingi off guard.

Mingi stiffened for a second, his mind scrambling to process the sudden closeness. But Yunho’s warmth was steady, and before he knew it, Mingi found himself leaning into him, letting the tension melt away.

“See?” Yunho whispered, his breath brushing against Mingi’s temple. “Told you I’m not so bad.”

Mingi huffed a small laugh, feeling the flutter in his chest settle into something softer. He let himself relax fully against Yunho, the steady rise and fall of Yunho’s breathing grounding him in the moment.

For a while, they just sat like that—Mingi tucked against Yunho’s side, the fire casting flickering shadows over them. The world outside the clearing felt distant, unreal, as if nothing existed beyond the warmth of the fire and the steady comfort of Yunho’s presence.

“You know…” Yunho’s voice broke the comfortable silence, soft and thoughtful. “I wasn’t kidding earlier.”

Mingi jolted upright, his heart jumping into his throat. “ABOUT BEING A SERIAL KILLER???”

Yunho blinked in surprise, and then a deep, genuine laugh burst from him, warm and unguarded. The sound of it filled the quiet night, and for a moment, it was as if all the tension and strangeness from earlier evaporated into the crisp air.

“No, no,” Yunho said between chuckles, leaning back against the log with an easy grin. “Not that.” He shook his head, clearly amused by Mingi’s reaction. “I meant about liking this. You. Being here.”

Mingi blinked, his cheeks flushing with heat, a mixture of embarrassment and relief washing over him. “Oh,” he mumbled, sinking back down beside Yunho. “You, uh… you really had me going there for a second.”

Yunho’s grin softened into something more tender, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight. “If I were a serial killer, you’d know by now, don’t you think?”

Mingi shot him a sideways glare, though it lacked any real annoyance. “That’s not as comforting as you think it is, Yunho.”

Yunho smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Well, you’re still alive, aren’t you? That has to count for something.”

Mingi huffed, unable to stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Barely,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to the word. He settled back against Yunho’s side, feeling oddly comfortable despite himself.

“See?” Yunho murmured, wrapping an arm loosely around Mingi’s shoulders again. “I told you I wasn’t that bad.”

Mingi let out a soft, reluctant laugh, leaning into Yunho’s warmth. “You’re definitely weird, though.”

“Fair,” Yunho conceded with a grin. “But you seem to like weird.”

Mingi rolled his eyes, but the truth was, Yunho wasn’t entirely wrong. Something about Yunho’s presence—his teasing, his easy confidence—made Mingi feel more at ease than he had in a long time. It was strange, yes, but not unpleasant. In fact, it was... nice.

The fire crackled softly, and Mingi closed his eyes for a moment, letting the steady hum of the night lull him. Yunho’s arm around him felt solid and reassuring, and the weight of the day’s strange events began to lift from his mind, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest.

“Yunho?” Mingi whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle crackling of the fire.

“Hmm?” Yunho responded, his tone low and content.

Mingi hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly to himself. “Thanks for not being a serial killer.”

Yunho chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Anytime, Minky.”

They sat in silence after that, the fire burning low and the night growing colder, but Mingi didn’t mind. He wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but for now, sitting beside Yunho in the quiet woods, everything felt just right.

And for once, that was more than enough.

The fire crackled softly, sending up the occasional pop as the flames danced low, shrinking into glowing embers. The air was cooling fast, wrapping the forest in a blanket of crisp night air, but Mingi felt no urge to move away from Yunho. There was a stillness between them now—a rare, quiet peace that neither dared to disturb.

Mingi shifted beside Yunho, the warmth radiating from him soothing in a way that made it hard to stay upright. His body, still buzzing from the chase and the strange emotions that followed, was finally crashing, leaving him tired and heavy-limbed.

He let out a soft sigh, blinking slowly as the fire’s glow began to blur at the edges. “I’m getting sleepy,” he murmured, half to himself.

Yunho glanced down at him, an amused glint in his eyes. “Want to head inside the tent?”

Mingi shook his head, too comfortable to think about moving. Without overanalyzing it—because if he did, he might chicken out—he shifted again, this time laying his head in Yunho’s lap.

The movement surprised Yunho, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his body stiffened for just a second before he settled, his hand hovering awkwardly for a moment before coming to rest lightly against Mingi’s hair.

Mingi let out a soft, contented hum, nuzzling his cheek slightly against Yunho’s leg. The warmth of Yunho beneath him and the faint, rhythmic sound of the fire were lulling him into a peaceful haze.

“This okay?” Mingi asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper in the night air, almost afraid to disturb the moment.

Yunho’s hand gently brushed through Mingi’s hair in response, his touch careful but steady. “Yeah,” Yunho murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s okay.”

Mingi exhaled, the tension draining from his body as he curled slightly into himself, the firelight dancing across his relaxed features. Yunho’s hand continued its slow, soothing motions, fingers combing through Mingi’s soft hair with absentminded tenderness.

“Comfy?” Yunho teased lightly, though there was no bite to his tone—only warmth.

“Mmhm.” Mingi’s lips curved into a lazy smile, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re warm.”

Yunho chuckled quietly, a deep, soothing sound that made Mingi feel even more at ease. “You’re not so bad yourself, Minky.”

Mingi smiled at the nickname but didn’t respond, already drifting closer to sleep. Yunho’s hand kept moving gently through his hair, grounding them both in the quiet moment, the weight of the world slipping away.

The fire crackled softly, the night air growing cooler, but neither of them moved. Mingi’s breathing evened out, soft and steady, and Yunho’s gaze remained on him, a fond look flickering across his face.

For a moment, Yunho simply watched him, feeling the rise and fall of Mingi’s breaths against his leg. Something about the scene—the fire, the stillness, the warmth of Mingi trusting him enough to fall asleep like this—made his chest feel full in a way he wasn’t used to.

Yunho leaned his head back slightly, his own body relaxing into the moment. His fingers drifted through Mingi’s hair in slow, lazy motions, a quiet contentment settling over him.

“You better not drool on me,” Yunho whispered softly, even though Mingi was too far gone to hear him.

A quiet laugh escaped Yunho as he glanced at the stars peeking through the canopy above. For the first time in a long while, everything felt... right.

And he had no intention of going anywhere.

Chapter 2: warmth

Summary:

alternate ending!!
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For the first time that night, Mingi felt warm.

Notes:

TW// blood, murder.

Mingi had started his hike just after noon, but the overcast sky made it feel later. The air carried a sharp bite, and the forest was draped in white, snow blanketing the ground and clinging to the branches. The path twisted through skeletal trees, their bare limbs reaching like claws toward the dull sky. Mingi’s boots crunched over the snow as he walked, each step leaving fresh prints in the untouched landscape.

He liked it out here—the quiet, the solitude. Out where the noise of the city couldn’t reach him, where the world was nothing but the soft hush of snowfall and the occasional rustle of wind sweeping through the treetops. The cold bit at his cheeks and nose, but Mingi welcomed it, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck. He had picked this spot deliberately—far enough from town that no one would stumble across him.

By the time he reached the clearing he’d scouted last week, the sun hung low behind a layer of gray clouds. The creek nearby was half-frozen, a slow trickle of water slipping beneath sheets of ice. He dropped his pack by the edge of the trees and began setting up his tent. The fabric flapped in the breeze as he stretched the poles and hammered the stakes into the hard, frozen ground.

Once the tent was secure, he gathered a circle of stones for a fire pit. He scavenged for dry branches hidden beneath the snow and built a small pile of kindling. After striking his lighter, the fire sputtered to life, its glow casting flickering shadows across the white ground. Mingi held his hands close, savoring the warmth.

With camp prepared, he grabbed his fishing gear and made his way to the creek. Ice crunched beneath his boots as he approached the water’s edge. He cast his line, watching the lure disappear beneath the surface, and sat on a flat rock. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, collecting on his shoulders and hat as the minutes slipped by.

After an hour, with two small fish cleaned and wrapped in foil, Mingi made his way back to camp. He set the fish near the fire pit, feeding the flames until they crackled with renewed life. The warmth chased away the creeping cold as night slowly descended over the forest.

Mingi skewered a marshmallow on a stick, rotating it over the fire until it puffed and turned golden. As he pressed the gooey treat between chocolate and graham crackers, the snow-laden trees seemed to press closer. The woods, once peaceful, now felt heavy—oppressive.

A sharp crack echoed from somewhere beyond the firelight.

Mingi’s heart skipped. Probably just a deer, he told himself, brushing away the uneasy feeling curling in his chest. But then another snap—deliberate, closer this time. His breath fogged in the freezing air as he glanced toward the shadows.

“Hello?” His voice was little more than a whisper, swallowed by the quiet snow. His hand hovered near his fishing knife, fingers trembling slightly. Then, from the darkness, a figure stepped forward.

Tall, lean, and wrapped in clothes that looked rumpled from days spent in the wilderness, the man moved with a deliberate calm. The firelight flickered across his face, revealing sharp features that Mingi knew all too well. Relief swept through him—but only for a moment.

“Yunho?” Mingi let out a nervous laugh, the sound cracking in the cold air. “You scared me half to death.”

Yunho’s smile was small—too small. “Didn’t mean to.” His dark eyes scanned the camp, lingering on the fire, the tent, and the scattered supplies. His gaze felt heavy, like he was committing every detail to memory.

“You didn’t expect anyone else out here, did you?” Yunho asked as he stepped closer, the fire casting long shadows across his face.

Mingi forced a grin, though unease prickled along his skin. “No... I like the quiet.” He held up the marshmallow stick with a weak smile. “Want a s’more?”

Yunho’s lips curled slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Sure.” He took the s’more from Mingi’s hand, his fingers brushing against Mingi’s just long enough to send a cold shiver down his spine.

“You’re pretty trusting,” Yunho murmured between bites, his dark eyes never leaving Mingi’s. “Offering food to someone you barely know.”

Mingi tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. “I mean... we know each other, right?”

Yunho’s smirk deepened, something unsettling glinting in his gaze. “How do you know if I’m a serial killer or not?”

The words cut through the cold air like a knife. Mingi’s heart raced, the fire’s warmth suddenly feeling distant. “You’re... joking, right?”

Yunho tilted his head, the firelight flickering in his dark eyes. “What if I’m not?”

He ran. 

Mingi’s lungs burned, each breath stinging with the freezing air as he tore through the snow-covered forest. His boots slipped on the ice beneath the powdery surface, every step more labored than the last. Desperation drove him deeper into the woods, but the cold clung to his skin, making his movements sluggish. His muscles ached, his legs heavy and uncooperative—he was slowing down, and he knew it.

Behind him, Yunho’s footsteps were steady and deliberate, crunching softly against the snow. Not rushed. Just patient, as if he knew the outcome was inevitable.

"You’re not going to get away, Mingi," Yunho’s voice echoed through the dark, low and teasing, sending a chill through Mingi that the snow couldn’t. "But it’s cute that you’re trying."

The forest stretched endlessly ahead, barren branches clawing at the dull sky. Moonlight slipped through the clouds in faint patches, casting eerie silver glints on the untouched snow. Roots and branches reached up from the frozen ground, snagging at Mingi’s clothes, ripping small tears through the fabric.

He stumbled but kept going, forcing his exhausted body forward, heart hammering against his ribs. Every breath felt like a knife in his chest, the cold air cutting deeper with each inhale. But no matter how fast he ran, Yunho's footsteps followed—steady, relentless, never hurried.

"You’re making this too easy, pretty," Yunho called, his voice smooth and amused, closer now. "What fun is a hunt if you give up before I catch you?"

Mingi’s heart tightened painfully, fear clawing at his chest. He pushed through the snow, slipping and staggering, the icy wind biting at his skin through his torn clothes. His vision blurred with exhaustion, panic and adrenaline the only things keeping him moving.

Just ahead, a jagged rock peeked out from beneath the snow—a desperate chance. Mingi lunged toward it, grabbing the cold, heavy stone. He barely had time to react when Yunho’s hand reached for him.

With every ounce of strength left in him, Mingi swung the rock, the sickening crack of impact echoing through the frozen air.

Yunho grunted, stumbling back, his gloved hand flying to his head. He staggered, caught off guard—but not down for long.

Mingi didn’t wait to see how badly he’d hurt him. He ran, heart racing, the cold slicing at his lungs as he crashed through the snow-covered forest. His legs trembled, exhaustion dragging him down, but he pushed forward, knowing this was his only chance.

Yunho’s low, dark laugh carried through the night like a taunt. “That was cute, Mingi,” he called, his voice laced with dangerous amusement. "But you should’ve hit harder."

Mingi’s pulse thundered as he sprinted through the woods, the snow pulling at his legs. He didn’t dare look back—he knew Yunho was coming, faster and angrier now. His pace was no longer leisurely; it was deliberate, hungry, every step closing the distance between them.

And then Yunho was on him again.

The snow gave way beneath Mingi’s feet as Yunho tackled him, slamming him into the frozen ground. Ice and snow sprayed around them as Yunho pinned Mingi beneath his weight, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts.

"Gotcha," Yunho growled, frustration and mockery dripping from his voice.

Mingi writhed beneath him, kicking and twisting, but Yunho’s grip was like iron—unyielding and relentless. His long legs straddled Mingi’s waist, holding him firmly in place against the freezing ground.

“You really thought you could win?” Yunho hissed, his eyes gleaming with annoyance, though a wicked grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You shouldn’t have run, pretty. And you definitely shouldn’t have fought back.”

Mingi gasped for breath, tears stinging his eyes as panic clawed at him. "Yunho, please—" he choked, desperation leaking from every word. "I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just—just let me go!"

Yunho’s gaze darkened, the teasing edge fading into something far colder—something final. His hand brushed against Mingi’s cheek, the touch mockingly tender.

"Now, now, Mingi," he murmured softly. "You know it’s too late for that."

A sob hitched in Mingi’s throat as terror overwhelmed him. “Please…” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You don’t have to do this...”

Yunho tilted his head slightly, studying Mingi with unsettling calm. His grip tightened—not cruelly, but with purpose, as if savoring the moment.

“But I want to,” Yunho whispered, his voice soft and deliberate, as if this decision was as simple as choosing how to spend his evening. "And that’s what matters, isn’t it?"

Mingi’s stomach dropped, the weight of Yunho’s words crashing down on him like the snow piling up around them. He tried to struggle again—one last, desperate attempt to escape—but Yunho was faster, stronger, and entirely in control.

Yunho’s hand slipped inside his coat, and Mingi saw the glint of steel before he could react.

"No—" Mingi gasped, but the word barely escaped his lips before the knife plunged into him.

Yunho’s smile returned—small, deliberate, and merciless. “Shh, pretty. It’ll be quick.”

The blade slid smoothly between his ribs, piercing deep. The cold steel bit into his flesh, sharp and unforgiving, and for one agonizing moment, the pain burned white-hot, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Then, just as quickly, the pain faded—replaced by something warm.

Mingi’s breath hitched as the warmth bloomed from the wound, spreading outward through his body. His blood soaked through his clothes, staining the snow beneath him in dark, spreading pools. The warmth flowed freely, chasing away the biting cold that had gripped him all night.

It was strange, how comforting it felt.

The snow continued to fall, soft and silent, as the warmth spread deeper into his limbs, easing the tension from his body. 

For the first time that night, Mingi felt warm.

Yunho leaned close, brushing a strand of hair from Mingi’s forehead with disturbingly gentle care. His breath was warm against Mingi’s cooling skin.

"Told you not to trust strangers," Yunho whispered, his voice low and fond, as if sharing an intimate secret.

Mingi’s chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, each breath weaker than the last. His vision blurred, black creeping in at the edges, until all he could see was the snow falling softly around them.

And through it all, the warmth remained—a strange, cruel comfort in his final moments.

With one last, shuddering exhale, Mingi’s body went still. The tension melted away, leaving only warmth in its wake.

Yunho sat back on his heels, watching as the snow slowly covered the dark stains beneath them, erasing the evidence of what had happened.

And in the quiet cocoon of the winter night, Yunho smiled.

Notes:

hope you like it! pls lmk how it was <3

Notes:

pls lmk how it was!! i hope it was okay <3 thank you for reading! mwuah

also sorry it was A LOT of dialogue