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It was Paris Fashion Week.
Rain threatened the edge of the city.
Paparazzi flooded the hotel courtyard.
And somewhere between a champagne tower and a chaotic dressing room, Kim Mingyu ~Dior’s golden boy, had his breath knocked out, not by a camera flash, but by Xu Minghao.
Notorious. Stunning. Sassy.
Louis Vuitton’s untouchable darling.
The first time Mingyu saw him, he was stepping out of a car in an all-white LV suit with embroidery that looked like it was stitched by angels and sponsored by heartbreak.
His cheekbones could cut glass, and his lips curled like he was always seconds away from insulting you politely.
“Oh shit,” Mingyu muttered to himself, watching from the hotel lobby. “That’s him.”
“That’s Xu Minghao” his manager whispered beside him, like they were seeing a myth.
“He looks mean.” Mingyu commented absentmindedly.
“He is.” His manager supplied.
Mingyu grinned.
“I like him already.”
🐶🐸
The shoot was for Harper’s Bazaar France, a daring collab between Dior and Louis Vuitton for the cover spread: “Two Houses. One City. One Night.”
No pressure.
The moment they met, it was a disaster.
“Well,” Minghao said, eyeing him from head to toe, “you’re taller than I expected. Still basic though.”
Mingyu laughed, hand outstretched.
“You’re smaller than I expected. Still gorgeous though.”
Minghao blinked. Once.
Then he turned to the stylist and said “Is this how Dior trains its dogs?”
The stylist choked on a bobby pin.
Mingyu didn’t stop smiling. If anything, it got worse.
“Only the friendly ones. Wanna pet me?” He said smugly.
“Down, boy.” Minghao smirked.
🐶🐸
On set, Mingyu was all natural, light and gentle charm.
He posed like he belonged on a yacht, sun-kissed and unbothered.
Minghao? Cold lines. Controlled elegance. He looked like poetry framed in gold.
Together?
They were breathtaking.
The photographer screamed twice.
“Can you move closer?” they begged. “Pretend you like each other..no, no, lust at each other.”
Minghao rolled his eyes, stepping into Mingyu’s space.
“This is just a job. Don’t read into it.”
Mingyu tilted his head, brushing his hand against the edge of Minghao’s jaw.
“Then why are you trembling?” Mingyu flashed him that boyish grin.
“I’m restraining myself from stabbing you with this brooch.” Minghao glared at him.
“Hot.” Mingyu scrunched his nose.
Minghao looked away but Mingyu did not miss the red tinging his ears.
🐶🐸
Later that night, in the hotel rooftop bar, Minghao sat alone with legs crossed, drink in hand and city lights flickering in his eyes like secrets.
Mingyu approached, two buttons undone, looking like a romance novel lead.
“You’re following me” Minghao said without looking.
“You’re magnetic” Mingyu replied, sliding into the seat across from him.
There was a moment of silence.
“You’re not what I expected.” Mingyu uttered softly.
“Because I’m not falling at your feet?” Minghao scoffed.
“Because you look so cold… but I think you’re just scared.”
Minghao went still. Just for a second.
“And what would I be scared of, Dior boy?” He asked with a soft but dangerous smile.
Mingyu sipped at his drink, gaze holding his.
“Maybe someone who could actually stay.”
Something flickered in Minghao’s eyes.
He stood abruptly.
“You shouldn’t project your abandonment issues onto strangers.”
“I wasn’t projecting,” Mingyu said quietly. “I just recognize it.”
The tension in the air was almost unbearable.
And then Minghao leaned in.
Close enough to feel his breath.
“Don’t fall for me, Kim Mingyu. I’m not here to be your next heartbreak.”
And with that, he walked away leaving Mingyu alone, aching, intrigued, and maybe a little ruined.
🐶🐸
Mingyu couldn’t sleep.
Which was ridiculous.
He’d just wrapped two shows, had eaten at a five-star private dinner, and had been offered very illegal substances by a Balenciaga muse, to which of course he declined.
But all he could think about was ‘him’.
Minghao, cold as moonlight, hot as sin.
The memory of his words looped on repeat on Mingyu’s mind.
“Don’t fall for me, Kim Mingyu.”
“I’m not here to be your next heartbreak.”
And worse? He wasn’t wrong.
Mingyu had been in love before.
Crashed and burned. Publicly. Brutally. And he told himself he won’t be looking for love again.
But then Minghao happened.
And now? He was doomed.
🐶🐸
Minghao adjusted his sunglasses and sighed.
Why did he agree to walk this show?
His contract was with LV, but his agency loved “surprise cameos.” He hated the disorganization, hated the light makeup, hated…
“Xu Minghao?” a staff member called. “You’re walking after Kim Mingyu. Try not to glare at him too hard this time, yeah?”
Minghao froze.
He peeked past the curtain.
And there he was: tall, lean, golden, in a black blazer with assymetrical lapels over a Dior logo-emblazoned tank top.
Mingyu.
Mingyu spotted him and smiled.
Minghao turned away like he didn’t feel anything at all.
🐶🐸
They met again at the Dior Garden Lounge.
“You’re following me” Minghao said.
“I was here first” Mingyu said, sipping espresso.
“I never thought you’d be into espresso, you looked like a latte guy through and through.” Minghao commented sharply.
Mingyu grinned.
“Maybe I wanted to impress you.”
“Maybe you’re annoying.”
They sat in silence, side by side on a plush bench, separated by exactly 14 inches and enough unresolved sexual tension to ignite the Eiffel Tower.
“I saw your walk earlier” Mingyu said casually. “You float. It’s like you’re not even touching the ground.”
“I saw yours too” Minghao replied. “You stomp like a runway Labrador.”
“I am loyal.”
Minghao sipped his tea like it wasn’t spiked with meaning.
🐶🐸
Mingyu found himself outside the venue of the YSL Afterparty.
It was raining. Paris smelled like perfume, wet stone, and danger.
Mingyu stood under the entrance arch, drenched, hair slicked back, shirt partly unbuttoned.
He hadn’t even made it to the party yet.
Because he saw Minghao, pressed against the wall, laughing into someone’s shoulder.
The pang in his chest came too fast.
Jealousy? Longing? Both?
Minghao turned.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the noise vanished.
Minghao walked over, slow and deliberate.
“Did you get caught in the rain or is this another Dior stunt?”
Mingyu smiled faintly.
“I came to see if you’d show up.”
“I told you not to fall.”
“I’m not falling” Mingyu lied.
Minghao looked at his soaked shirt, then back into his eyes.
“Don’t make me responsible for you.”
“I don’t want you to be responsible,” Mingyu whispered “I just want you to care.”
Minghao’s throat bobbed.
Then he left.
Again.
🐶🐸
The universe must be laughing.
Mingyu was sleepless again and he wandered at the hallway of their shared luxury hotel in a robe and slippers, only to nearly collide with Minghao, dressed in pajama pants, hair mussed, phone in hand.
They froze.
Neither of them moved.
“You look like you haven’t slept,” Minghao said.
“I haven’t.”
“Me neither.”
Minghao leaned against the wall, exhaling.
“I didn’t think you’d stay this long.”
“You know I only have three days here but you made all of them feel longer.” Mingyu confessed maybe a little too honestly.
Minghao stared at him but did not say a word.
Mingyu was ready to apologize and walk away but—
“I don’t do commitment,” Minghao whispered, voice barely audible. “It’s easier to disappear.”
“I know,” Mingyu replied, stepping closer. “But I’m not asking you to stay. I’m just asking you to stop running.”
Minghao’s breath hitched.
Mingyu reached out slowly, carefully and touched his hand.
This time, Minghao didn’t pull away.
🐶🐸
That day, they were scheduled for another concept photoshoot.
Minghao didn’t get nervous.
He’d modeled beside A-listers, walked for LV while sick with the flu, and once survived an entire shoot with a python wrapped around his shoulders.
But this time, this concept shoot with Mingyu was different.
There was no theme but intimacy.
No props.
No costumes.
Just them.
And Minghao wasn’t sure how much of himself he could hide under that kind of lighting.
The stylist brushed his hair off his face.
“Ready, Hao?”
Minghao gave a tight nod and stepped onto the minimal set.
Mingyu was already there, dressed in a soft ivory shirt, open at the collar, sleeves rolled.
His smile was gentler today, quieter.
The usual confident gleam dimmed into something more thoughtful.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Minghao replied.
They stood a meter apart.
The photographer adjusted the lens.
“Just move naturally. The story is about closeness and things unspoken.”
“That’s vague.”Minghao scoffed softly.
“Just... pretend you trust each other.”
A quiet chuckle came from Mingyu.
“That’s easy.”
Minghao raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t trust you.”
“But you don’t run away anymore when I sit next to you.” Mingyu teased him.
“That’s because you talk so much I go numb.” Minghao huffs.
Mingyu laughed, really laughed and it eased the tension like warm light slipping through a window crack.
The shoot went slow.
They were asked to close the distance gradually.
Touch hands. Hold eye contact.
Minghao’s hand hovered near Mingyu’s chest during one pose, resting just lightly over his collarbone.
Their eyes met. Mingyu didn’t smile like usual. He just looked at him.
Steady an soft.
It wasn’t charged.
It wasn’t playful.
It was... safe.
And that scared Minghao more than anything.
🐶🐸
Later that afternoon, they ended up walking.
No plan.
No destination.
A tiny café caught their eye.
They shared a raspberry tart and a pot of chamomile tea.
Mingyu stretched under the striped canopy.
“So... is it weird that I feel calm with you?”
Minghao stirred his tea, not looking up.
“You’re not usually calm?”
Mingyu smiled faintly.
“I’m not usually seen.”
Minghao glanced at him then, a little longer than necessary.
“You’re seen all the time. That’s the whole point of modeling.”
“Not like this.” Mingyu met his gaze. “Not in ways that matter.”
Minghao blinked once, twice then looked down.
He didn’t say anything.
They sat by the river after that.
Not talking. Just sitting.
A couple passed by holding hands.
A child fed pigeons with loud enthusiasm.
And when Mingyu leaned back on his elbows and said, “This has been the best part of Paris”
Minghao just hummed.
But he didn’t deny it.
🐶🐸
It was their last night.
Paris glowed behind them in gold and champagne.
The breeze was soft.
The garden empty except for the two of them.
Minghao wore a cream knit sweater and slippers, like he didn’t expect to stay long.
Mingyu wore a plain white T-shirt and gray sweatpants.
They looked… normal. Comfortable. Real.
Minghao leaned on the railing, arms crossed.
“I don’t usually do this.”
“Walk on balconies?” Mingyu’s brow furrowed.
“Spend time like this. Talk like this.”
Mingyu stepped closer, leaving just a sliver of space.
“I’m honored.”
Minghao smiled~small, tired, real.
“I’m not easy to be with.”
“Neither am I.”
Minghao’s voice dipped lower.
“But you make it seem easier. Like I don’t have to be guarded all the time.”
Mingyu’s breath caught.
He reached for Minghao’s hand on the railing.
Their fingers brushed.
“I like who I am around you,” Minghao said, voice barely a whisper. “That’s not normal for me.”
Mingyu looked at him like he was the only thing worth seeing.
His hand curled gently over Minghao’s.
And Minghao turned to face him fully.
It was all right there, the closeness, the possibility, the unspoken permission.
Minghao tilted his head, eyes flickering to Mingyu’s mouth.
Suddenly—
“Mingyu?”
A single name cut through the air like a blade.
Minghao pulled back instantly as if he was burned.
Mingyu froze.
Standing just past the trellis was Jungkook, handsome as ever, his leather jacket catching the moonlight.
He looked like a ghost that had come to collect what was his.
“I didn’t know you were still in Paris,” Jungkook said, voice careful.
Minghao blinked once, then turned to Mingyu.
His expression didn’t crack but his voice did.
“Who is that?”
Mingyu’s lips parted.
Hesitation flickered in his eyes.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Minghao’s stomach dropped.
He pulled away fully, stepping back like a wall had dropped between them again.
“You should’ve told me,” he said, voice trembling beneath his usual chill.
“Minghao, wait…” Mingyu reached for him.
But Minghao had already turned.
He walked.
Faster.
Out of the garden.
Out of reach.
And all Mingyu could do was stand there with one hand still lifted, one word still stuck in his throat.
🐶🐸
At the hotel front desk, Mingyu was pacing like he was about to lose his mind.
The desk attendant looked confused.
“Yes, Mr. Xu checked out early. Said he had a flight to catch.”
Mingyu’s chest tightened.
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
He didn’t wait for more details.
He ran.
When he arrived at the airport, it was already too late.
Mingyu stood there, winded, phone in his hand, staring at the list of unsent messages.
Minghao was gone.
And he had let uncertainty steal the only real thing he’d found in a long time.
🐶🐸
Mingyu have not modeled since Paris.
Which, for Korea’s golden boy and Dior’s most in-demand face, was newsworthy.
Photoshoots were rescheduled.
Public appearances ghosted.
Offers? They were left on read.
The headlines said “Fatigued,” “Taking a Break,” “Burnout.”
But the truth was simpler, quieter, and far more pathetic.
He missed Minghao.
“Okay, this is getting dramatic, even for you” Wonwoo, his best friend said slapping down two coffee cups.
Mingyu didn’t look up from where he sat slumped on the couch, hoodie over his head and a cold bowl of cereal in his lap.
“Have you even showered today?”
“Emotionally, yes.”
Wonwoo sighed, clearly frustrated.
“You’re rotting.”
“I’m grieving.”
“You knew him for three days, Gyu.”
“I opened my soul to him, Woo.”
“You stared at him for a photoshoot and almost kissed.”
Mingyu looked up, eyes bloodshot.
“I loved him with the intensity of a thousand suns.”
“You need therapy and a lint roller.”
Wonwoo paused, eyeing the half-written text on Mingyu’s phone:
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hesitate. I was just scared.”
Still unsent.
“Why don’t you just tell him that?”
Mingyu buried his face in the couch pillow.
“Because it won’t matter anymore.”
🐶🐸
Meanwhile, back at Shanghai, Minghao had gone full emotional lockdown.
Junhui noticed it in the way his texts turned into one-word answers.
The way he skipped out on dinner meetings.
The way he ghosted the group chat for four days straight.
And when he did show up to a campaign shoot, he said exactly three sentences:
“Where are the clothes?”
“The lighting is too flat.”
“Tell that intern to stop breathing so loud.”
Junhui watched from the corner, arms folded while sipping lemon iced tea.
He missed Paris Minghao.
The one who smiled without thinking.
The one who teased a certain Dior boy over espresso cups.
This version of him? Silent. Sharp-edged.
Back to being an ice sculpture that wore LV with unresolved emotion.
He sighed and opened his email.
From: Junhui [email protected]
Subject: Special Cross-Label Collab Suggestion
Hi,
I have an idea for your next headline campaign:
“The City We Left Behind: A Dior x LV Exclusive”
Two models. Two brands. One week in Paris.
We’ll supply the LV ambassador. You know who to call for Dior.
Let’s make heartbreak fashionable.
—Jun
“Your brooding days will soon be over Haohao!” He grinned at Minghao mischievously.
The other just glared at him with the intensity of icy daggers.
🐶🐸
One week later, Mingyu was still on his couch of doom when his phone buzzed.
It was an email from Vogue Korea.
“Urgent campaign inquiry. Paris collaboration with Louis Vuitton’s Xu Minghao.Please confirm availability.”
He blinked.
Then reread it.
Then screamed.
“WONWOO!”
“What now?!”
“They want me to go back to Paris.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow.
“Okay?”
“With him.”
Wonwoo dropped the coffee he was holding.
“Wait. Minghao?”
Mingyu nodded, looking pale.
“I….I need to go. I need to—" He was already throwing shirts into a suitcase.
“Oh my god” Wonwoo muttered. “You’re gonna faint on the plane. I’m coming with you.”
🐶🐸
Mingyu bounced his leg non-stop while sitting at the Airport VIP Lounge.
Wonwoo sat next to him and visibly regretting everything.
“You still haven’t texted him?” Wonwoo asks, voiced laced with concern.
“What if he says no?” Mingyu sulks.
“What if he wants to say yes?”
Mingyu clutched his boarding pass like it held all the answers.
“I messed up” he whispered.
“I made him feel like he was a detour. But he was... everything.”
Wonwoo finally gave in, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Then tell him that. Properly this time. Before someone else does.”
The gate opened.
Mingyu stood up, heart pounding, stomach flipping.
And for the first time in weeks, he moved forward.
🐶🐸
It was the scheduled day of the shoot.
Minghao arrived first.
He wore a tailored black turtleneck, sunglasses, and an expression so impassive it made the studio staff bow twice.
He didn’t speak unless asked.
He didn’t make eye contact.
Junhui was with him, talking non-stop like he was trying to fill the air Minghao refused to breathe.
“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that” Jun said, nudging him.
Minghao didn’t respond.
Jun glanced sideways.
“You know, Vogue told me the Dior rep just arrived.”
Minghao said nothing.
“Apparently he brought a plus-one.”
There was a flicker of emotion on Minghao’s face.
His fingers twitched around his teacup.
Meanwhile, Mingyu was in the dressing room, staring at his reflection with dread pooling in his chest.
He looked… thinner.
He felt hollow.
Like Paris had stolen something from him the last time, and he had returned to reclaim it. But what if it was too late?
Wonwoo handed him a bottle of water in silence.
“Do I look okay?” Mingyu asked quietly.
“You look like a man who’s about to beg” Wonwoo replied. “Which is honest. So yes.”
Mingyu sighed so loudly the staff had to ask him if he was okay.
He was not.
He felt like dying inside.
🐶🐸
The first time Mingyu saw Minghao again, it felt like a punch to the ribs.
He was seated by the lighting monitor, scrolling on his phone, completely unfazed.
Mingyu stepped forward.
“Hao.”
Minghao didn’t look up.
“Hm.”
Jun immediately clocked the freaking tension and whispered to Wonwoo who is looking handsomely constipated at his side.
“This is going to be a disaster.”
“We haven’t even seen the shoot yet.” Wonwoo deadpanned.
“I’ve seen enough. They look like two exes forced into a wedding-themed editorial.”
Wonwoo arched a brow.
“You’re surprisingly observant.”
“You’re surprisingly hot.” Jun grinned.
Wonwoo blinked.
“Excuse me?”
Jun offered his hand.
“Hi. I’m Jun. Minghao’s very concerned and extremely nosy best friend.”
“Wonwoo.”
“Cool. I’m going to marry you.” Jun beamed.
Wonwoo visibly glitched.
🐶🐸
The shoot began.
But there was NO SPARK.
No tension. No fire.
They stood next to each other like wax figures dressed in LV and Dior~ pretty but empty.
Every pose was stiff, every glance avoided.
The photographer tried.
God, they tried.
“Can you two look at each other?”
Minghao stared just over Mingyu’s shoulder.
“Minghao, could you soften a bit?”
Minghao’s eyes narrowed instead.
Mingyu stood there, aching.
Because Minghao looked like he didn’t care.
But Mingyu saw it now, the clenched jaw, the slight shake in his hands, the way he wouldn’t really meet his eyes.
He was guarding something.
He always was.
But this time, Mingyu wasn’t sure if it was himself, or just… his heart.
“Cut!” the photographer sighed. “Let’s reschedule. It’s not working.”
Jun clapped his hands dramatically.
“Thank god. I thought I was going to pass away from secondhand tension.”
Minghao stepped down from the platform.
Mingyu watched him leave without a word.
🐶🐸
Mingyu stood outside alone, scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, drinking something he did not even like. Just for something to do.
Jun approach him with arms crossed.
“You know he still loves you, right?”
Mingyu looked at him sharply.
“He doesn’t act like it” he muttered.
Jun tilted his head.
“That’s because he’s terrified. Of being left. Of falling and not knowing if you’ll catch him.”
Mingyu looked down.
“I would catch him. I wanted to. I still do.”
“He thinks he saw doubt in your eyes when your ex showed up.”
“I wasn’t going to choose Jungkook” Mingyu said, voice raw with emotion.
“It doesn’t matter what you were going to do. It matters what he saw.” Jun shrugged.
Jun leaned in.
“You wanna crack him open again? Be braver than him.”
And with that, he left Mingyu pondering over everything he should’ve said and everything he ought to do.
🐶🐸
Minghao stared at the hotel ceiling.
He could still see Mingyu’s face~ drawn, tired, and thinner than last time.
And that hurt more than anything else.
He wanted to ask him:
“Have you been eating?”
“Do you still think about me?”
“Why didn’t you chase me harder?”
But he said nothing.
Because he didn’t know how to lower his walls anymore, not when getting close meant hurting again.
🐶🐸
Minghao was avoiding Mingyu with military precision.
Breakfast? Minghao skipped it.
Styling? “Do Mingyu first, I’ll be in later.”
Fitting? “I’m suddenly allergic to Dior. Sorry.”
Jun had enough.
He watched his best friend dodge Mingyu behind garment racks, under studio lights, and once even inside a bathroom stall.
“Okay, Mr. Kim Mission Impossible” Jun snapped, stomping into their shared hotel suite. “What is this? Hide and seek? Emotional edition?”
“I’m not avoiding him” Minghao muttered, arms crossed.
“You’re literally crouching behind a clothes rack when he’s in the same room.”
Minghao narrowed his eyes.
“I’m maintaining boundaries.”
Jun threw a pillow at his head.
“You’re maintaining your loneliness.”
Minghao walked towards his bedroom and slammed the door like a rebellious teenager.
🐶🐸
Jun cornered Wonwoo near the coffee machine.
“I need your help.”
“I don’t do crime” Wonwoo deadpanned.
“Not a crime. Just a... containment.”
“A what?”
“We’re faking a Vogue interview segment and locking your boy and my boy in the greenroom until they cry, confess, or kiss.”
Wonwoo blinked.
“You’re insane.”
Jun smiled.
“You’re hot.”
“Fine. But if they kill each other, I’m blaming Dior.” Wonwoo sighed.
🐶🐸
Mingyu walked in first.
“Interview?” he asked, confused.
Wonwoo waved him in with a clipboard.
“Yeah. Just sit.”
Seconds later, Minghao walked in.
“What is this—”
The door shut.
A bolt slid.
Jun’s voice called from the hallway, chipper and evil.
“This is an emotional intervention! Figure your shit out!”
Mingyu stood there visibly stunned.
“Wait, Jun?!”
“You can’t come out until you talk!” Jun yelled.
“And actually talk” Wonwoo added. “Not just sulk in Dior and LV”
They heard footsteps receding.
And then they were alone.
🐶🐸
The tension could cut through reinforced glass.
Minghao sat with arms folded and expression blank.
Mingyu paced.
Minutes passed.
Finally, Mingyu broke the silence.
“Are you ever going to talk to me again?”
Minghao looked up slowly.
“Do you want an answer you’ll believe?”
Mingyu stopped walking.
“Yes.”
Minghao’s jaw tightened.
“I did talk to you. Back then. I opened up. I told you I liked being around you. And then he showed up, and you hesitated.”
“I didn’t choose him” Mingyu said quickly. “I wasn’t going to.”
“You didn’t have to choose him. You just had to choose me.”
Mingyu’s throat burned.
“I wanted to. I was scared. You…you made me feel things I didn’t think I could feel again.”
“And you made me feel safe” Minghao said, voice trembling. “For the first time in years. Then you looked at him like you still wanted him. You looked at me like you didn’t know what you wanted.”
Mingyu stepped closer.
“That’s not true.”
“You don’t understand” Minghao snapped, voice rising. “I don’t let people in. I can’t. Because they always leave. Or I leave first so they don’t get the chance. But you~you made me want to stay.Do you even know how hard that was for me?”
His eyes were wet now, but he didn’t blink them away.
Mingyu’s own voice cracked.
“I know. I’ve messed up Hao. And I blame myself every single day for that. I’ve been miserable without you. I haven’t eaten properly. I couldn’t sleep. I hated myself for not chasing you fast enough—”
Minghao finally stood up, fists clenched.
“Then why didn’t you fight harder?”
Mingyu stepped forward.
“Because I didn’t think I deserved you.”
Minghao looked at him. Really looked at him.
Gone was the golden retriever with heart eyes.
Mingyu looked tired.
Hollow.
Honest.
“I’ve never felt like this” Mingyu said, barely audible. “Not even with Jungkook. It wasn’t like this. You made everything sharp and clear and terrifying. And beautiful.And the loss felt awfully painful. It was not only you who’s afraid of opening up. I’ve been here before. I was afraid I’d get burned again, but if it’s you then perhaps it would be worth it.”
Minghao’s voice shook.
“You’re not allowed to look at me like that unless you’re staying.”
“I’m staying.”
“You’re not allowed to say these things unless you mean them.”
“I do.”
Minghao’s breath hitched.
“Then prove it.”
And that’s when Mingyu kissed him.
Not soft.
Not polite.
But desperate.
Full of ache and every unsaid word.
Minghao’s hands fisted into his shirt, and he kissed back like he was trying to erase the distance between them.
And they did.
🐶🐸
Outside, Jun pressed his ear to the door.
“Do you hear crying or kissing?”
Wonwoo stood beside him.
“Both?”
“Mission successful.” Jun grinned.
Wonwoo blinked.
“You’re actually kind of terrifying.”
Jun leaned in.
“You haven’t seen me flirt properly yet.”
Jun winked leaving behind a dazed Wonwoo.
🐶🐸
The next morning, they were back again at the photoshoot set.
Nobody said a word.
They didn’t have to.
When Minghao and Mingyu walked in side by side with Mingyu wearing a navy Dior trench and Minghao in a crisp LV suit shirt half-tucked and slightly wrinkled like someone had been in a rush, the room practically vibrated.
Their energy was different now.
Not stiff. Not cold.
But charged. Focused. Breathing.
The photographer gaped.
“Holy shit. What did you two do last night?”
“They did each other’s emotional walls.”Jun chimed in while sipping iced tea with zero shame.
Wonwoo choked.
🐶🐸
The camera flashed.
The chemistry hit like thunder.
Minghao’s fingers curled into the collar of Mingyu’s coat in one shot.
In another, Mingyu pressed his forehead against Minghao’s temple, and they breathed in sync.
There was a brief moment in between takes when Mingyu caught Minghao looking at him, soft and real.
And instead of turning away, Minghao smiled.
The photographer nearly fell off his ladder.
“You two,” he muttered, wide-eyed. “This isn’t a campaign. This is a goddamn love story.”
Minghao blushed.
“Shut up and shoot.”
Mingyu laughed while holding Minghao tenderly, as if he is the only thing that mattered.
🐶🐸
The article was already being drafted.
“The Dior Boy and the LV Muse: A Romance in Rewind”
Behind the scenes, Mingyu scrolled through the photos, and whispered “I can’t believe that’s us.”
Minghao leaned on his shoulder.
“I can’t believe you wore that scarf again.”
“It’s my emotional support accessory.”
Minghao hummed.
“It’s hideous.”
“Your face is hideous.” Mingyu poked at Minghao’s cheek teasingly.
“You begged to kiss it.”
They smiled.
No running.
No walls.
Just them, teasing and touching like it had always been allowed.
🐶🐸
Jun spun spaghetti around his fork like a bored prince.
“I’m just saying, you have the bone structure of a tragic antihero.”
Wonwoo blinked.
“Uh..Thanks?”
Jun leaned across the candlelit table.
“And you let me lock your best friend in a room for a romantic ambush. That’s basically a first date in my book.”
Wonwoo stared.
“This is a first date.”
“Nope. This is our second one.” Jun smirked.
Silence stretched.
“So what happens next?” Wonwoo asked, genuinely curious.
Jun tilted his head.
“Next? I fly back with Minghao. You brood in Seoul. We text something stupid like ‘are u awake?’ at 1 a.m. for a few weeks.”
“Then what?”
“Then I visit,” Jun said, lips quirking. “And maybe stay.”
Wonwoo’s ears turned red.
“Okay,” he said, deadpan. “But only if you bring dumplings.”
“Deal.”
Jun grinned.
🐶🐸
Minghao and Mingyu sat on the windowsill, overlooking the city that almost broke them.
Mingyu nudged the other’s knee.
“Can I ask something scary?”
“Go ahead.”
“If we weren’t models, if none of this existed, would you still have talked to me that day?”
Minghao looked at him.
“Probably not.”
Mingyu’s face fell.
“But,” Minghao added, “I’m glad I did. Because even if this ends tomorrow, I’ll always remember how it felt to fall for you.”
Mingyu leaned in, brushing his nose against his.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then fall for me again.” Minghao whispered.
They kissed slow, sure, and certain this time.
No flashbulbs. No runway. Just them.
🐶🐸
Mingyu sat cross-legged in his suite with phone propped on a stack of books.
Across the screen, Minghao’s perfect LV-sponsored bedroom glowed softly.
“Did you see my latest magazine cover?” Minghao asked looking so soft and elegant in his loungewear.
Mingyu grinned, leaning in.
“I loved it, especially your collarbone” Mingyu grinned flashing his pointy canines.
They spent an hour talking about their jobs, about the food they miss, places they visited, and about almost everything and nothing at all.
Every “I miss you” and “I love you” was hidden between teasing smirks and playful giggles.
In Shanghai, Junhui paced by Minghao’s door, looking impatient.
“Seriously Haohao? You talk to each other all day, can we go outside now?”
Minghao just glanced at him and continued to press a kiss to the screen of his phone.
“He’s cute. Are you jealous? Ask Wonwoo for kisses too”
Jun snorted.
“He’s not the clingy type!”
Wonwoo, who had been lounging over Mingyu’s couch heard Jun’s voice and glanced over Mingyu’s shoulder on the call.
“Oh, really Junnie? Would you like me to tell them things kitten?” His tone was flat and maddeningly calm.
Jun almost grabbed Minghao’s phone looking too flushed.
“Jeon Wonwoo! Shut up!”
“Well, I did not know you have a kink” Minghao teased him.
Jun bolted outside of Minghao’s bedroom yelling something like throwing away his favorite tea set.
🐶🐸
At the release of Vogue Korea’s latest magazine issue, every gossip site ran the same banner:
“Dior’s Golden Boy & LV’s Ice Prince: Are They Officially Together?”
Fans dissected every heart emoji on Instagram, tabloids dredged up Mingyu’s old interviews about relationships.
Basically, the internet went crazy and people who were hungry with something to talk about did what they do best.
Meddle with privacy.
🐶🐸
Mingyu checked his watch.
Minghao’s flight from Shanghai was due any minute.
He stayed back in the VIP lounge, ready to meet his lover discreetly, a quick hug, a whispered “I love you,” and they’d slip away unnoticed.
But things sometimes spiral out of control.
Mingyu’s stomach knotted.
He messaged Minghao: I’m here.
Minutes later, he received a panicked text: They’re everywhere. Men with cameras. I… I can’t breathe…
Mingyu bolted from the lounge and ran into the terminal chaos.
Minghao emerged, suitcase in hand, eyes wide beneath designer sunglasses.
Paparazzi circled like vultures.
A camera flashed right infront of his face.
Minghao froze.
His heart was racing, chest tightening.
His breath came in short and terrified gasps.
Mingyu appeared then, slicing through the crowd.
He grabbed Minghao’s hand and pulled him behind a row of check-in desks.
One arm around his waist, the other shielding his face.
“Breathe, baby breathe” Mingyu murmured with steady voice. “I’m right here.”
Minghao leaned into him, tears threatening. “They won’t stop” he whispered.
“I won’t let them get close to you” Mingyu promised, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.
Before airport security took control of the situation, cameras flashed again, catching Mingyu’s protective stance and Minghao’s trembling form.
Two silhouettes entwined against the stark airport tiles an image reborn for every gossip feed in Asia.
By evening, photos of them holding hands, Mingyu’s coat wrapped around Minghao’s shoulders, were everywhere.
Mingyu received a message from his agency.
This is a PR nightmare. We need damage control.
He shut his phone down and sat beside Minghao who is now cocooned in a blanket at his couch.
Minghao sipped chamomile tea, with one hand interlaced with Mingyu’s.
“I’m sorry I caused trouble” he choked out.
Mingyu brushed away a single tear at Minghao’s jaw.
“You didn’t. I don’t care about whatever rumors come out”
Minghao looked up, vulnerability spilling through his dark lashes.
“I don’t know how to do this, be seen, let people know I’m yours.”
Mingyu smiled, gentle and fierce.
“Then let’s do it together. Because I would do everything just to protect you.”
Minghao’s lips trembled into a small, grateful smile.
And in the quiet hum of the evening, they held onto each other~ love louder than any headline.
🐶🐸
Mingyu sat stiffly in a glass-walled boardroom, his managers rifling through headlines on iPads like they were court evidence.
“Xu Minghao Panics at Airport, Kim Mingyu Seen Holding His Hand!”
“LV Muse and Dior Golden Boy Caught in Rumored Romance Scandal”
“Kim Mingyu and Xu Minghao Dating? Brands Silent, Fans Loud”
“We have to do damage control” his manager muttered. “We release a statement. You’re close friends after collaborating together, it was instinct, nothing more.”
“No” Mingyu said, calm but firm.
Everyone paused.
“I’m not lying” he said. “And I’m not hiding it anymore.”
There was complete silence.
“You’ll destroy your image, remember what happened last time with Jungkook?” an executive said.
Mingyu looked them straight in the eyes.
“Then let it be. This time it’s different. I’m not scared anymore. I love him.”
He walked out the door without fear, without hesitation, only loud and confident love.
🐶🐸
Meanwhile, across the sea, Minghao sat in his dressing room with makeup half-done, legs crossed as Jun pressed play on the livestream video of Mingyu’s interview from Seoul.
Mingyu appeared onscreen, dressed in an elegant black suit, calm, collected, but his eyes held the truth.
“Mingyu, there’s been… speculation about your relationship with LV’s ambassador.” The interviewer asked.
“Xu Minghao, you mean?” Mingyu gently smiled.
“Yes. Can you confirm this or is he just one of your close model friends? “
“He’s more than a friend. He’s the reason I smile when I open my phone. He’s the person I waited for at the airport. I love him.” Mingyu beamed with a smile that told everything.
Minghao’s breath hitched.
Jun stared at him.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
“I think I might cry,” Minghao whispered. “He said it. Just like that.”
Minghao was now at the backstage, minutes before his LV runway show at Shanghai when his phone buzzed.
It was a video call.
Just as he answered, Mingyu’s grin filled the screen.
“You saw it?”
Minghao nodded, biting back a smile.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
Mingyu tilted his head.
“I meant every word.”
“I miss you” Minghao said, voice soft.
“You’ll see me at the end of the runway” Mingyu winked at him.
Minghao blinked.
“Wait, what?”
“I’m here. Don’t panic.”
Minghao flushed.
“You’re insane.”
“Insanely in love, yeah.”
The music swelled.
Lights flashed.
Minghao walked in perfect rhythm, poised, graceful, every step echoing confidence.
But his heart pounded louder than the beat.
At the end of the runway, the crowd collectively gasped.
There stood Mingyu, hands behind his back, waiting.
Minghao didn’t falter.
He walked straight into him, and without hesitation, Mingyu offered his hand.
Minghao took it.
They stood side by side as the cameras erupted, two silhouettes holding hands, love laced into the fabric of fashion’s biggest stage.
No press release could outshine that.
It was the grandest declaration of love born in luxury.
🐶🐸
The morning sun spilled into Mingyu’s minimalist suite which is now cozy with books, art prints, and a golden retriever named Pudding snoring softly at the foot of the bed.
Minghao padded into the kitchen in silk pajamas, LV monogrammed, brushing a hand through his tousled hair.
He poured coffee with the absentminded grace of someone who didn’t need mirrors to know he looked gorgeous.
Behind him, Mingyu snuck up like a clingy, shirtless menace.
Strong arms wrapped around Minghao’s waist, and a nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
“Good morning, my Minghao my baby, my wife” Mingyu murmured, voice thick with sleep and affection.
Minghao let out a soft giggle, leaning back into his chest.
“Your what?”
“My baby. My wife. My everything.”
Mingyu’s hands tightened slightly on his waist, thumbs drawing slow, lazy circles on the soft silk fabric.
“You know” he whispered, “this part of you…” he bent down and kissed just above the waistband, “is my favorite.”
Minghao flushed.
“So huggable” He kissed it. “So grabbable” squeezed it. “So kissable” and kissed it again.
Minghao’s breath was caught between a laugh and a moan.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious” Mingyu said, still wrapped around him like a koala. “If Dior ever drops me, I’ll just become the brand ambassador of your waist. Limited edition. One-out of-one.”
Minghao turned, laughing into Mingyu’s shoulder.
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m your type of crazy” Mingyu replied, completely unashamed.
They stayed like that for a moment, just warm skin, sunlit windows, and the soft clink of a coffee spoon.
“You know” Minghao said, smiling up at him, “I never thought I’d have this.”
“This?” Mingyu asked.
“A kitchen. A dog. You.”
Mingyu kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose.
“And now you have all three. Forever.”
They ate on the balcony, barefoot, laughing about Jun’s new psychic cat candle business and Wonwoo accidentally going viral for his deadpan commentary on trends.
Pudding barked.
Minghao reached down and scratched her ears.
“I never thought I’d like this life.”
Mingyu leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“It’s our life now.”
Minghao turned to him, eyes soft.
“I’ll keep choosing you. Even on quiet mornings like this.”
Mingyu kissed him again, this time longer.
“Even when the world’s not watching?”
“Especially then.”
🐶🐸
Later that evening, Pudding was snoring at the foot of the bed again, twitching in her sleep.
The soft hum of the air purifier buzzed in the corner.
And tangled in sheets and kisses, Minghao lay half on top of Mingyu, tracing lazy shapes on his bare chest with a fingertip.
“You know” Minghao whispered, “your heartbeat still gets faster when I touch you like this.”
“That’s because I’m tragically whipped” Mingyu replied without opening his eyes.
“You’re not tragic” Minghao said, kissing just under his collarbone. “You’re annoyingly perfect.”
“You’re annoyingly hot” Mingyu countered, opening one eye. “Like I genuinely think it’s unfair you wake up with cheekbones sharper than knives, plump lips and brown eyes, while I wake up with Pudding’s fur in my mouth.”
Minghao giggled and nuzzled into his chest.
“I used to think I’d die alone in a Shanghai apartment surrounded by LV trunks, bitter poetry, and lonely paintings” he mumbled against Mingyu’s skin.
Mingyu laughed.
“Instead, you’ll die of me squeezing your waist too much.”
“Honestly, it’s worth it.”
They lay there for a while, quiet.
Comfortable.
“You ever get scared?” Minghao asked, voice softer now. “Like this is too good?”
Mingyu reached for his hand and laced their fingers together under the duvet.
“Every day” he said. “But then I look at you and think… if ever it’s a dream, I’d rather not wake up.”
“Me too” Minghao answered almost inaudibly as he slept with the quiet rhythm of Mingyu’s heartbeat.
🐶🐸
Minghao opened the suite door wearing one of Mingyu’s oversized shirts and a sleepy scowl.
“This better be Pudding’s Amazon delivery—”
Jun barreled in with a suitcase.
“SURPRISE! I’m moving in.”
Minghao blinked.
“You’re what?”
Behind him, Wonwoo stepped in calmly, holding a box labeled “Jun’s Ridiculous Candles.”
“He means he’s moving to Korea. Not into your suite.”
“Although,” Jun added, “I would like to be neighbors. Or at least have brunch three times a week.”
“Wait,” Mingyu said, coming in behind Minghao, hair still a mess. “You’re really staying?”
Jun beamed, looping an arm around Wonwoo’s waist.
“We talked. I got offered a stylist-editorial hybrid role at a Korean magazine. And someone…” he poked at Wonwoo’s chest “convinced me I could have more than a fling and a flight.”
Wonwoo blinked at the affection but didn’t protest.
“We’ll be living in my apartment. He’s already rearranged the entire kitchen.”
“And I’m adopting a cat,” Jun added. “Because clearly I need someone clingier than you.”
Minghao leaned into Mingyu’s side, smirking.
“So… double dates?”
“Nooo. They’re too chaotic babe” Mingyu protested like a kid.
“We’re doing it anyway.” Jun winked at him.
Later that evening, there were four mugs of coffee, one hyperactive dog and two chaotic couples in Mingyu’s suite.
With a soft reminder that no matter how loud the world had gotten, they’d all found the quiet, ordinary magic of choosing each other again and again.
Every morning.
Every moment.
Every stupid candle Jun tried to gift them.
Because they fell in love beneath spotlights, but they built a life in soft morning light.
Their world didn’t end.
It bloomed.
And love was never a scandal.
It was always the statement.
(end)