Archive of Our Own ^beta

“That’s not a motorcycle.”

It’s the only thing Wonwoo can think to say, eyes blinking heavily as he stands on the concrete of the parking lot, hands in the pockets of his jacket as he stares at this cute boy, whose name is quickly slipping out of Wonwoo’s periphery.

Cute boy makes a face, like he was really hoping to not be found out. “Well, I mean. It’s sort of a motorcycle.”

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows. “It’s a fucking scooter. It’s baby blue.”

“It’s nice,” the boy says defensively, pouting.

“Are you a cartoon character?” Wonwoo asks, laughing. The whole night’s been ridiculous enough that he would believe it.

He never intended to get this drunk when he went out to celebrate the end of exams, is the thing, but Soonyoung and Jihoon kept drinking and he felt like he should keep up. It’s not his fault they both can apparently drink him under the table (not literally. Almost literally.) It was around the time that the table got involved when Seungcheol walked over from his spot behind the bar, looking concerned and slightly exasperated, as was his specialty.

“Wonwoo,” he started with a sigh, “I’m cutting you off.”

Soonyoung and Jihoon booed loudly, Jihoon going as far as to throw a handful of nuts from the bowl on the table at Seungcheol’s chest.

Wonwoo just shrugged, not particularly upset by this decision, because he very recently noticed just how drunk he was. A lot drunk, that was how drunk he was.

“Can you guys make sure he gets home safe?” Seungcheol asked Jihoon and Soonyoung, ignoring the fact that Jihoon was still throwing things at him.

“We’re his guardian angels,” Soonyoung said seriously, holding eye contact with Seungcheol as his mouth struggled to blindly find the straw in his glass.

Seungcheol was silent for a beat before he said decisively, “Okay, you guys are plan B.”

“What? This is an outrage, Seungcheol. We are plan A material!” Soonyoung cried, joining Jihoon in pelting Seungcheol with nuts.

“Will you guys please stop throwing those? We have to clean them up later,” Seungcheol complained, which prompted Soonyoung and Jihoon to throw more of them at once.

Wonwoo observed the scene, feeling oddly uninvolved in it despite being the topic of conversation. “I can get home by myself. I’ve been drunk before.”

Seungcheol gave him a sympathetic look, Soonyoung laughed, and Jihoon shot him a withering glare. So that didn’t work, then.

“Mingyu,” Seungcheol called to a passing waiter, who turned around abruptly. He looked familiar, assumedly because he worked in this bar that Wonwoo also frequented, and notably cute. “You’re getting off soon, right?”

The waiter nodded and said some words too, maybe, but Wonwoo was having trouble focusing. He picked absentmindedly at the nuts lying all over their table, putting a handful that had still gone unused as ammunition into his mouth and crunching loudly.

“Give him a ride home, alright? I’ll give you a few thousand won of my tips tonight.” Seungcheol was walking away before Wonwoo fully processed what was happening.

“Are you old enough to own a car?” Jihoon asked dubiously, and Mingyu smiled.

“I have a motorcycle,” he said, a big grin on his face. Cute, said a voice in the back of Wonwoo’s head again.

“How very cool of you,” Soonyoung teased, mock-bowing in apology.

Wonwoo wasn’t totally sure how much time passed before Mingyu was in front of their table again, his little black apron gone. Now he was just wearing black jeans and a black shirt.

“Colorful outfit,” was the first thing Wonwoo said to the cute boy who was apparently giving him a ride home.

“I spill a lot of drinks and it gets expensive to replace clothes,” Mingyu offered with a shrug.

“So clearly you’re in great hands here,” Jihoon said to Wonwoo conversationally, sipping at his drink.

“You’re so mean when you drink,” Soonyoung said with a loud laugh, sounding endeared and leaning to laugh on Jihoon’s shoulder.

Wonwoo felt like he was on the precipice of seeing Soonyoung and Jihoon kiss, something he’d avoided successfully for the past couple months, and he had no interest in witnessing it now.

“Okay, take me home,” he announced abruptly, and Mingyu grinned at him, giving a little salute. Wonwoo stood up, wincing as he realized how drunk he was.

“How come you never know til you stand up?” He muttered, and Soonyoung laughed again.

“Bad waiter, listen —”

“Hey,” the waiter pouted again.

“You’re the one who said you spilled drinks. Anyway, bad waiter, don’t kill our friend.” Jihoon finished, looking up threateningly.

“I won’t kill anybody,” Mingyu said brightly, giving another thumbs up.

“I’ll message you when I get home,” Wonwoo said, rolling his eyes.

“If you don’t message me by —” Soonyoung looked down at his watch and stared at it for a few seconds (“Do you not know how to tell time?” Asked Jihoon in the silence, managing to sound both judgmental and amazed; Soonyoung ignored him) “By one-thirty, I’m going to call you and if you don’t answer I’ll tell Seungcheol that the waiter kidnapped you.”

“Sounds like a plan, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo agreed wearily, giving a wave.

And now here he is, standing in the parking lot staring at a fucking baby blue scooter.

“I only have one helmet,” Mingyu says to himself, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the aforementioned helmet in his hand. “You can have it,” he decides, extending his arm in Wonwoo’s direction.

“What a gentleman,” laughs Wonwoo, finding himself especially funny after five drinks. Mingyu smiles back at him.

His fingers fumble with the clasp of the helmet as Mingyu fishes his keys out of his pocket, and he turns around to find Wonwoo still struggling.

“Here,” he mutters and leaned in to help, his fingers close to Wonwoo’s throat. He was very...big, as a person. Taller than Wonwoo and now that he’s so close, it’s easy to tell how much broader he is too. His eyes are lowered to Wonwoo’s chin, eyelashes long against the tan of his skin.

“You’re pretty.”

It leaves Wonwoo’s mouth unconsciously, against his will. Mingyu giggles, nose scrunching up, and looks up at Wonwoo. “You’re so drunk.”

“No, I’m Wonwoo,” Wonwoo says, laughing at his own joke again.

Mingyu snorts, pulling away now that the helmet is secured. “Come on, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo follows directions, sits down on the seat of the scooter behind Mingyu, trying to avoid pressing up against his back like he’s in a goddamn drama. But it’s unavoidable at some points, like when Mingyu clears corners; Wonwoo’s arms rest awkwardly around Mingyu’s middle to keep himself steady and a bump on the road bounces him forward until he’s flush against Mingyu’s body. He notes again how broad Mingyu’s body is, how it makes Wonwoo feel even skinnier than he actually is.

Mingyu asks him for his address at a red light, and Wonwoo leans his helmeted head against Mingyu’s shoulder to tell him. He’s sleepy now, the alcohol hitting him harder, and he wants to go to bed. When they pull up to the curb out front of Wonwoo’s apartment, he looks up at his building, unwilling to put in the energy to move.

He hears Mingyu chuckle, feels it since his chest is pressed to Mingyu’s back, and he’s jostled when Mingyu turns on the seat of the scooter. “Wonwoo,” he says, voice soft, “go inside and message your friend.”

“What?” Wonwoo mutters, picking up his head and blinking sleepily. “Oh. Soonyoung.”

Mingyu leans in again and unclasps the helmet, and god, he’s closer this time. His hands are warm despite the chill of the evening, brushing against his pulse point again. Wonwoo takes the helmet off, running a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, uh —” Wonwoo blanks on his name for moment, and Mingyu smiles at him again.

“Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.”

Wonwoo nods. “Thanks, Kim Mingyu.” He stands up from the scooter, legs stiff from his sitting position, and stumbles up to his front door. Mingyu stays parked out front until the door closes behind Wonwoo, and he runs his hand through his hair again before pulling his phone out. He sends his obligatory message to Soonyoung, assuring him that he is home and alive, that the waiter didn’t kill him.

Mingyu didn’t kill Wonwoo but that night Wonwoo falls asleep thinking about his broad back and long eyelashes and feeling, for the first time in a while, intrigued.

“Here’s the thing,” Soonyoung starts, tossing snacks up into the air and trying to catch them in his mouth.

“What’s the thing?” Junhui asks, sounding unimpressed by Soonyoung’s antics. He’s sitting on the floor of Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s apartment, a thick textbook spread in front of him and Minghao’s head casually leaning against his shoulder.

“I’m fucking bored.”

Wonwoo looks up from his biology textbook in time to see Soonyoung actually catch the piece of food he threw in the air, looking victorious. Junhui doesn’t react.

“Maybe you should do some of your work,” Junhui suggests.

Soonyoung pouts in response. “You guys are no fun.”

They ended up at their apartment after Jihoon kicked them out of his studio, teeth gritted after the millionth time Soonyoung accidentally knocked against one of the buttons on the control panel. He called them distractions as he shooed them out the door and Soonyoung just laughed enthusiastically like it was a term of endearment, ruffling Jihoon’s hair on the way out.

“I’m fun,” Junhui defends himself, looking up from his book with a little bit of a pout. “I’m helping you plan Jihoon’s party, aren’t I?” Jihoon’s birthday was fast approaching, and Soonyoung decided that this year, they should go all out and throw him a surprise party. Jihoon didn’t like surprises or special attention as a rule, but he liked drinking and he would go along with a lot of things if Soonyoung planned them, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“That’s true. Wonwoo, what’s your defense?” Soonyoung asks, throwing a cheesepuff across the room at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo flicks the cheesepuff back over with a small grin. “Don’t have one. I’m no fun.” He didn’t volunteer his time to the party planning committee, mostly because he trusted Jun to be able to reel in Soonyoung, but also because it seemed like a lot of work; Soonyoung was known to go overboard with this kind of thing.

“Does that mean you’re not coming to the girls’ house tonight?” Soonyoung asks, an eyebrow raised.

Wonwoo laughs. “Well, I didn’t say that.” Getting an offer to a party thrown at Yongsun, Byulyi, Wheein and Hyejin’s shared house was rare, and made them all feel a little special. They were older and way, way cooler than Wonwoo’s group of friends, and none of them quite knew why the girls liked them.

“Wheein has a crush on Seungcheol, that’s my guess,” Seokmin says from where he’s lying with his head in Soonyoung’s lap. They’ve been trying to guess the reasoning behind the party invitation for a week now.

Junhui snorts derisively. “Wheein and Hyejin are dating.”

Seokmin sits up and almost hits his head on Soonyoung’s chin, looking distressed. “Really?”

“Very much so,” Wonwoo says back, and everyone looks at him. “They are not subtle.”

“Well,” Seokmin says, considering. “She could still have a crush on Seungcheol.”

“Everyone has a crush on Seungcheol,” Minghao agrees, still looking down at his phone. The group makes a collective noise of assent.

It goes quiet again and Wonwoo looks down at his textbook, turning the page without having absorbed most of what he’d read.

“Seungcheol said he invited that waiter,” Soonyoung says, not very loud but clearly aimed at Wonwoo.

He picks his head up and raises an eyebrow at Soonyoung. “Okay.”

“Just thought you might want to know,” Soonyoung says innocently with a shrug, throwing another cheesepuff into the air and missing it with his mouth. It falls on Seokmin’s shirt instead.

“Okay,” he repeats again, his face mostly blank. What does he care if some boy he met when he was very drunk, weeks ago, would be at this party? Even if he was cute.

“Who?” Minghao asks, looking up with furrowed eyebrows.

“This waiter in Seungcheol’s bar who gave Wonwoo a ride home when he was wasted.”

Minghao laughs lightly, giving Wonwoo a disbelieving look. “You went home with someone?”

“I — no, he just gave me a ride. Like an actual ride, on a motorized vehicle. Soonyoung and Jihoon were too drunk,” Wonwoo defends himself. But he’s not sure he likes the mocking in Minghao’s expression. He could go home with someone. He didn’t, but he could.

“On his motorcycle,” Soonyoung interjects. “A ride home on his motorcycle.”

“Scooter,” Wonwoo corrects.

Soonyoung raises his eyebrows. “Scooter?”

“Yeah, it looked like one of those...the European ones. Like in Roman Holiday,” he pronounces the English title carefully. His mom used to watch old American movies like that when he was a kid.

“Does that make you Audrey Hepburn?” Seokmin asks from the floor with a laugh.

“Fuck off,” Wonwoo mumbles, looking down at his book again.

“So sensitive,” Junhui teases, reaching out a hand to knock lightly against Wonwoo’s shoulder.

He knows his friends are kidding but he doesn’t like his love life getting scrutinized, especially by Soonyoung. Minghao and Junhui he would allow, since as a couple they were expected to be judgmental about the lives of their single friends. Soonyoung was a romantic disaster and had no room to make comments on Wonwoo’s lack of involvement. But it’s lighthearted enough, and nothing to get worked up about. So he tries not to, smiling a little before returning to his reading so he can feel at least a little accomplished before going out and making bad decisions that night.

“Shots!” Hyejin shouts from the middle of her kitchen, arms raised above her head in celebration. The small crowd around her cheers, raising their cups for her to pour more liquor into, and Wonwoo laughs loudly as he joins them.

Soonyoung is dancing on top of a table nearby, taking genre requests from a loud audience beneath him. Seokmin keeps screaming for him to dance sexier and throwing 1,000 won notes up at him while Jihoon sips on a drink and watches Soonyoung, amused. Minghao and Junhui are on the actual dance floor, grinning at each other easily over the brims of their cups.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, is trailing behind Yoon Jeonghan and refilling his drink whenever he gets a chance, looking enamored whenever Jeonghan so much as glances his way. Typical.

For all that he enjoys being here, Wonwoo isn’t much of a party person. He enjoys people-watching the most, especially when the party is as interesting as this one. So far tonight, Hyejin and Wheein have invented four new drinking games, each involving drinking when people say different words out loud. Byulyi worked with them to get Yongsun to say every single word, and she looked confused when everyone around her drank all at once, even the fifth time it happened. Then the girls decided they should start a ssireum tournament in the lawn outside, using a pair of Yongsun’s tights as the belt. It was halfway into Yongsun and Byulyi’s match when Byulyi tackled Yongsun and they just started kissing in the middle of the lawn instead, effectively shutting down the tournament. Wonwoo hadn’t seen them since.

“Wonwoo, right?” He hears someone over his shoulder call, and he turns to find Wheein standing there, huge grin spread across her pretty face.

He nods, smiling politely as he takes a drink.

“Glad you and your friends could come. You guys are cool.” She punches him for emphasis on the last word, causing his drink to slosh around a little.

“Uh, thanks. You guys are a lot more cool than us.”

“Fuck yeah we are!” Hyejin yells, grabbing Wheein’s waist and leading her away with a smirk toward the dancefloor.

It’s a good party. It’s always a good party at this house, since the hosts seemingly have no concern for what anyone thinks of them. There are a ton of people there, like everyone who was invited brought ten more friends with them, and it makes for a crowded environment where Wonwoo keeps losing track of his friends. It’s somewhere around midnight when he stumbles his way to the back patio of the house, mostly empty since it’s a little chilly outside, and digs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“Bad habit,” comes a voice behind him, and he turns, startled, to find Kim Mingyu. Waiter and scooter owner Kim Mingyu.

It’s a little surprising, and the unlit cigarette drops from his hand. “Cheesy line,” he says back, bending down to pick it up.

Mingyu shrugs and sits down on the concrete next to Wonwoo with a grin. “You see an opportunity, you gotta take it, you know?”

Wonwoo gives him a small smile as he lights the cigarette, blowing smoke out of his mouth after the first inhale. He looks Mingyu up and down, trying to be subtle but probably failing, and Mingyu catches him. He giggles, the sound not quite matching up with the size of him, and smiles widely over at Wonwoo.

“This is weird. Can I bum a cigarette?” Mingyu asks him, hand extended, and Wonwoo raises an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I only smoke when I’m drunk,” Mingyu shrugs, and Wonwoo decides that’s a good enough reason to give him a cigarette. He hands over the lighter as well, their fingertips brushing on the exchange.

Mingyu coughs on his first inhale, and Wonwoo lets loose a surprised laugh. Mingyu’s dressed in all-black again, a long henley shirt and ripped jeans, and his hair is pushed back in a way that looks almost-effortless but Wonwoo knows can’t have been — he’s a poster child for cool and handsome. But he keeps giggling loudly and coughing on cigarette smoke and there’s something in Wonwoo that likes the juxtaposition.

“Your name is Mingyu, right?” Wonwoo asks, turning to face the other boy.

Mingyu nods, flicking the cigarette to get rid of the ash. “Surprised you remember.”

“I — you were memorable,” Wonwoo finishes the sentence in a mumble, suddenly aware that it sounds like a line.

Mingyu laughs and gives an exaggerated wink in Wonwoo’s direction, but he’s bad at it, and his other eye closes a little too, so Wonwoo laughs back.

“I’m Wonwoo,” he says, belatedly.

“I know,” Mingyu says back with another smile, looking up at Wonwoo in a way that might even be flirtatious.

“Kim Mingyu, what the fuck are you — oh,” someone has opened the door to the back patio and announced toward Mingyu’s back, and Wonwoo realizes that he only stopped because he saw the other person sitting out here.

Mingyu grins, more friendly and less flirty, and turns back to the figure in the door. “Hi, Seungkwan.”

“Chan is getting drunk, I think Hansol and I are gonna take him home,” Seungkwan announces, looking slightly annoyed with the situation.

“Oh,” Mingyu says, “I can come too.”

Wonwoo feels a little disappointed for a moment, at the missed-connections of it all. You drove me home one night but I was drunk, we met at a party but you had to leave. He runs through this list of small tragedies in his mind before the friend in the doorway, Seungkwan, says, “No, that’s okay. You...stay.”

The tone of voice is suggestive, and Wonwoo feels himself blush. Mingyu just laughs, and tells Seungkwan, “Make sure he drinks water before he goes to sleep.”

“Of course,” Seungkwan responds in accented English, and Mingyu laughs again. “See you later.” The door shuts behind him.

Mingyu is still laughing. “He’s pissed, he hates leaving parties early.”

“Was he the guy doing karaoke earlier?” Wonwoo asks, suddenly realizing where the face looked familiar from.

“Was it an idol song from the 90s?” Mingyu asks.

“Yes.”

“Then almost definitely.”

Wonwoo chuckles, exhaling the last puff of smoke from his spent cigarette.

“You wanna go back inside? I’m kind of cold,” Wonwoo says, dropping the butt on the ground next to him and stepping on it for good measure.

Mingyu nods eagerly, dropping his as well even though there’s still some left.

“How old are you, by the way?” Wonwoo asks as he stands up. He extends a hand to Mingyu without thinking about it, and Mingyu looks pleased as he uses it to pull himself up as well.

“I’m a second-year.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo says, a little comforted to know they’re only a year apart.

“You’re a third-year, right? Perfectly appropriate,” Mingyu says with a smirk, and Wonwoo turns to look at him, surprised.

“A little presumptuous of you,” he says, a smile spreading small on his face. He ignores the fact that Mingyu knows how old he is, that he probably asked Seungcheol about him.

“Is it?” Mingyu asks, giggling happily again.

They walk back inside, and Wonwoo is confronted with the sight of Soonyoung pushed against a wall with Jihoon in front of him, kissing like the world is ending. Wonwoo sighs.

“Aren’t those your friends?” Mingyu asks, leaning in so Wonwoo can hear him over the music.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo shrugs, leading them to the kitchen so he can get another drink.

Mingyu pours himself a drink from a bottle of sweet-flavored soju, peach or something, and Wonwoo laughs but is unsurprised.

“Mingyu-yah!” A voice calls from the other side of the kitchen, and Wonwoo turns to see Seungcheol, looking drunk and happy and walking towards them.

“Seungcheol-hyung,” Mingyu responds automatically, waving a hand in greeting.

“Hi,” Wonwoo says conversationally, pouring his own drink.

“Wonwoo!” Seungcheol exclaims back, looking excited to see him. “Look at this, you two together.”

“We’re not, I mean —” Wonwoo starts but Mingyu just giggles again.

“Right,” Seungcheol says, not really sarcastic as much as it is drunken and a little confused.

“How are things?” Wonwoo asks pointedly, glancing back at the corner where Seungcheol walked over from. Jeonghan and another boy are standing there, both of them alarmingly pretty and put-together, smiling little smiles at each other.

“So good!” Seungcheol nearly yells. Wonwoo likes drunk Seungcheol. “Where are the others?”

“Well, Soonyoung and Jihoon are doing...that,” Wonwoo gestures over his shoulder where the two are still against a wall.

“Those fuckin’ kids,” Seungcheol sighs like a weary father.

“Why isn’t kissing good?” Mingyu asks, sounding confused.

“They are so, so bad at feelings,” Seungcheol emphasizes the word, looking serious. “It’s exhausting.”

Wonwoo sighs, nodding in agreement. Every time the two of them get this drunk, they fuck at a party and for the next week everyone has to navigate between the two of them being weird around each other. Seungcheol is right: it’s exhausting.

“Oh,” Mingyu says, looking a little sad. Wonwoo likes the way his face is so easy to read. It’s nice. It’s a nice face. He takes another sip of his drink.

Jeonghan and his pretty friend walk over, still grinning. “Seungcheollie,” Jeonghan says in lilting voice, “Come back.”

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows and grins at the diminutive, but Seungcheol doesn’t seem to care. “Sorry,” he says, grinning affectionately. He turns back at Wonwoo and Mingyu and seems to be considering whether or not to introduce the two groups.

Mingyu makes the decision for him when he steps forward and says, “Hi, I’m Mingyu.” It’s...endearing. It’s a little strange to find Mingyu so endearing, considering he doesn’t even know him, but he does.

“Jisoo,” the other pretty boy says in a soft voice from Jeonghan’s side.

“Jeonghan.”

Seungcheol looks at both of them and Wonwoo can see the cartoon hearts in his eyes, laughs quietly before introducing himself as well.

Jisoo and Jeonghan both have a way of smiling even when they’re talking and it makes them look kind of meek, but Jeonghan at least definitely isn’t. He keeps biting his lip while he talks, pushing long hair back out of his face in a way he must know looks attractive. It affects Wonwoo, so he can’t imagine what Seungcheol, who has been casually in love with this boy for months, is going through. While Jisoo and Jeonghan talk, Mingyu gets nudged over by someone trying to get to the alcohol and closer into Wonwoo’s space, the sides of their legs pressed together in the crowded room. The point of contact is nice; Wonwoo isn’t an overly touchy person usually, but he’s a little drunk and Mingyu is so warm and solid next to him. Their hands are hanging close together and it wouldn’t be difficult to reach out and grab Mingyu’s, but it would be weird, probably. While he continues mulling over his options, Mingyu takes another step closer to him so their hips are touching as well, and Wonwoo feels himself blush a little.

The conversation around Wonwoo (he’s not contributing much, as he usually doesn’t) switches to food, and after Jeonghan says, “Seungcheol, let’s go out and get ramyeon,” Wonwoo knows his part of this conversation is over.

“Have a good night, man,” Wonwoo says with a grin and Seungcheol gives him an enthusiastic thumbs-up as he follows Jisoo and Jeonghan out of the room.

Mingyu giggles again as they leave, leaning in closer still to Wonwoo; he’s either quick to give affection or drunker than he seems. Their difference in height isn’t that noteworthy, but he feels it when Mingyu is this close to him.

“Wonwoo, I’m drunk,” Mingyu says with an unconcerned grin.

“I think you’ve mentioned that, yeah,” Wonwoo says back, unable to fight the grin he returns. Mingyu is just...cute.

“Do you think uh — the girls whose house this is, I don’t remember their names — do you think they’d mind if I make food?” Mingyu asks, leaving Wonwoo’s side and wandering over to the cabinets. “Those guys made me hungry.”

Wonwoo shrugs; the answer is probably no, and Wonwoo is hungry too, but at the same time he questions Mingyu’s drunk cooking skills. Mingyu takes this as tacit approval, apparently, because he starts gathering ingredients soon after. He pulls cheese, spam, instant ramyeon and garlic out of the girls’ pantry and fridge, working surprisingly quickly for someone who keeps drunkenly giggling. While he works, they talk; he’s not particularly proud of the fact, but Wonwoo is a lot better at talking to strangers when he’s drunk. They ask each other about what they study (Mingyu’s answer of mechanical engineering surprises him a little, honestly), their hometowns, their siblings. It’s an easy conversation, and Wonwoo can feel himself sobering as they have it. The kitchen is a little less busy now that it’s later (and earlier someone took all the alcohol to the back porch), and the persistent thump of bass from the stereo in the living room serves as background music to their conversation.

“Here you go,” Mingyu says, giving a little flourish with his hand as he serves Wonwoo a bowl of ramyeon that smells really fucking good, if he’s being honest.

“You’re a good cook,” Wonwoo says while he chews, covering his full mouth with his hand, and Mingyu grins at him.

“I’m better when I’ve had less to drink.”

They sit side by side at the dining room table of a house that isn’t theirs and eat quietly. It’s comfortable, like they’ve known each other for longer than a few cumulative hours. Wonwoo feels strange trying to make eye contact so he ends up staring at Mingyu’s hands, mostly; they’re big and Wonwoo likes the tan of Mingyu’s skin, the careful way he moves his fingers.

“Last time we met you called me pretty,” Mingyu says out of nowhere, stirring the noodles left in his bowl.

Wonwoo blinks and looks up at Mingyu’s face, not expecting the comment. “Yeah. I did.”

“I wasn’t sure if you remembered,” Mingyu shrugged, looking a little shy for the first time all night.

“Yeah, I do. Sorry, for that,” Wonwoo says, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He was really really drunk that night.

“You don’t need to apologize unless you didn’t mean it,” Mingyu says, giving Wonwoo a smirk as he takes another bite of his food.

“I meant it,” Wonwoo says simply, and Mingyu looks pleased at his answer. Wonwoo can’t imagine it was the first time someone told him that — he is pretty, all cheekbones and jawline and well-styled hair.

“You know, you come off a little intimidating,” Mingyu tells him, looking embarrassed to say it.

“Oh. Is it my face? I only really have one face,” Wonwoo says, making the face. He knows it looks harsh, a blank look that serves as his default expression.

“That’s not true. You smile sometimes too,” Mingyu says with a grin. “It’s nice.”

Wonwoo feels his cheeks pink at the compliment, and he looks down at his food to hide the smile that appears then. “Well, I promise I’m not really intimidating.”

“I think I figured that out,” Mingyu says, still grinning at him in that way he has, almost-flirting.

Mingyu’s phone chimes from his pocket, deflating the atmosphere between them, and Mingyu looks regretful as he looks at his phone. “Ugh.”

“Hm?” Wonwoo asks around his last bite of ramyeon, chopsticks hanging lazily from his fingers.

“I got sexiled,” Mingyu says with a sigh, putting his phone on the table.

Wonwoo chuckles as Mingyu continues to glare at his phone, like it’s the phone that kicked him out. “That’s rough.”

It’s quiet again for a moment, and Wonwoo doesn’t know where it comes from, but he turns to Mingyu and says, “You can crash at mine if you want.”

Mingyu just looks at him, and Wonwoo starts cursing in his head — they don’t even know each other, the offer is weird — but then he smiles and says, “Okay. Thanks.”

“Just. I mean like, not as a — not for...I just mean you can sleep. On my couch.” Wonwoo says quickly, realizing what it sounds like.

“I said okay,” Mingyu laughs.

“Okay,” Wonwoo repeats, feeling weird and nervous. Not bad-nervous, like...butterflies nervous. Which is stupid, so he decides to ignore it.

They make their way out of the kitchen eventually, Mingyu pouring them both another drink on the back patio where Wheein and Yongsun are hosting some kind of makeshift freestyle rap battle but laughing too hard to compete.

Inside, the crowd has thinned, and Mingyu turns to him and says, “Dance with me.”

“I can’t dance,” Wonwoo says, furrowing his eyebrows and taking another sip of his drink, newly refilled (and Mingyu made it strong, too.)

“I can’t either. Just do it,” Mingyu giggles, grabbing Wonwoo’s free hand and pulling him closer to where there’s still a small crowd of dancing bodies, one of which belongs to Seokmin, who’s dancing fairly well with a girl Wonwoo doesn’t recognize. He sees Minghao and Junhui sitting on a nearby couch, looking at each other like they do when they think no one’s watching, all soft. Wonwoo’s intoxicated enough to find it endearing, and he nods hello with a smile when Jun catches his eye.

Mingyu’s right: he can’t dance. It’s more like enthusiastic movement, but he will say that it is very enthusiastic. Wonwoo is less enthusiastic, because of who he is as a person, but it’s fun. The song is something electronic with a loud bass, and the way Mingyu is moving his hips is mostly funny but also a little attractive, if Wonwoo’s being honest with himself. And he’s had enough to drink that he’s being pretty honest with himself. Honest enough to smile when Mingyu reaches out and puts a hand on Wonwoo’s waist, to let Mingyu see his reaction and smile back in that big way he has.

Wonwoo doesn’t know how long they spend dancing, or what time it is when Mingyu turns to him with heavy-lidded eyes and says, “I’m tired,” but it’s probably after two. Minghao and Junhui left sometime earlier, waving to him on their way out, and Seokmin is still in conversation with the same girl, smiling so his whole face scrunches up at her.

Wonwoo looks at Mingyu, who’s giving him a sleepy pout. “Let’s leave, then.” He’s not very drunk anymore, faded into a buzz, and his enjoyment of this party is waning. If Mingyu wasn’t next to him, he probably would have left hours ago, and he doesn’t know exactly what that means.

Wonwoo opens the front door to the house and discovers that at some point in the past half-hour, it’s started raining. Great.

“Great,” he says out loud, pulling the arms of his jacket on and cursing his lack of a hood.

“Where do you live?” Mingyu asks, sounding concerned. He’s drunker than Wonwoo and his reactions to everything are bigger than they need to be, and it’s kind of funny. It was more funny before they saw the rain, but.

“It’s about a ten-minute walk,” Wonwoo answers with a sigh.

“Well,” Mingyu says, sounding resigned. “I wonder how far of a run it is.”

Wonwoo turns to him, confused, but Mingyu just grins and takes off in a run, grabbing Wonwoo’s wrist and pulling him along. It’s fucking cold in the rain and Wonwoo can feel himself getting soaked but he grins despite it at Mingyu’s uncoordinated pace.

The running only lasts for a couple minutes before they’re both out of breath, and they make the rest of the trek in relative quiet, Mingyu making whining noises every so often as he pushes his soaking wet hair out of his face; Wonwoo glances at him and wishes that he wouldn’t make drenched and uncomfortable look attractive. The part of his brain that’s still tipsy wonders if Mingyu has ever modeled.

When Wonwoo points to the awning of his building, they both scramble to get underneath it and out of the rain and they sigh heavily, water dripping from their clothes. “I can give you clothes to change into,” Wonwoo offers, punching his security code into the door, and Mingyu laughs, his sharp teeth bared.

“I don’t think we’re the same size, hyung.”

Wonwoo blushes at the fact that Mingyu has noticed too, the differences in their bodies, but he shrugs. “I’ll find something.”

Mingyu grabs Wonwoo’s hand again as they climb the three flights of stairs to Wonwoo’s apartment, and he’d be lying if he said he minded. For one, his hands are fucking cold, and there’s also the fact that it feels...nice.

“I don’t usually do this, you know,” Wonwoo says in front of his door, fumbling with his keys.

“Do what? Forget which key to use?” Mingyu asks with a giggle.

“Offer to bring home boys I don’t know,” Wonwoo says back.

Mingyu makes a thoughtful noise. “Ah, that. Well, you know me a little.”

“You’re Kim Mingyu, a mechanical engineering student who works at the same bar as my friend, you’re bad at dancing, you like fruity soju, you smoke when you’re drunk, and you have a little sister,” Wonwoo recites, all of it springing to mind easily. “That’s all I know.”

“Would you feel better if you knew a secret about me?” Mingyu asks. Wonwoo finally finds the proper key and the door opens to his dark apartment, and both of them trudge in with their wet shoes and clothes.

“I would, actually,” Wonwoo says with a grin. He kicks off his sodden shoes and goes immediately to his bedroom, rifling through drawers.

“Okay, let me think of one.” Mingyu calls from the entryway.

Wonwoo emerges a minute later in dry clothes and with a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt for Mingyu, both oversized and inherited from an ex-boyfriend years ago but larger than his usual extra-small. “Here you go,” he says, offering them with his hands out.

Mingyu looks pitiful, shivering in his wet clothes over the tile floor of the kitchen. “Thanks,” he says earnestly, and starts to take his shirt off where he’s standing, revealing a smooth plane of toned skin. It shouldn’t surprise him, since Mingyu seems to lack shyness in every other area of his life as well, but it catches him off guard.

“Oh,” Mingyu says, catching the expression on Wonwoo’s face, “sorry.” He laughs and pulls the hem of his shirt back down. “I’m still drunk. Where’s your bathroom?”

Wonwoo grins back and points down the hall, and Mingyu squelches off in that direction. “What’s your secret, by the way?”

“I don’t know,” Mingyu calls back. He’s in the bathroom but he left the door open, his voice just barely muffled by the distance. “I don’t know if I have any.”

“Empty promises,” Wonwoo says with a smile. He digs through his cabinet to find his jar of yujacheong and fills his electric kettle, figuring that as the more sober one, he should be the one to make something warm. He pushes his still-wet hair back from his face and leans against the kitchen counter.

“My parents don’t know I’m gay,” Mingyu offers, sticking his head out from the bathroom door and shrugging. He appears to be naked, since he’s holding his clothes in his hand, and the next thing he says is, “Where should I put these?”

“You can leave them in there,” Wonwoo says, wishing his dumb heart wasn’t beating harder. It’s been a long time since he hooked up with someone, and it’ll be longer still, since it won’t happen tonight. Not with Mingyu all drunk and sad and wet. Besides, he doesn’t really want this to be just a hook-up. It feels different than that.

“Anyway, I guess that’s not a secret,” Mingyu says, back in the bathroom. “I guess the secret is that I’m gay.”

“My mom knows, but my dad doesn’t.” Wonwoo says back. He doesn’t usually talk about this with people, not even his friends, and it feels kind of quiet and personal to be doing with someone he doesn’t know as well.

“Yeah? How’d that go?” Mingyu asks. He’s emerged from the bathroom in the sweats, looking markedly more comfortable and less pouty. He smiles when he sees the yujacheong out on the table and stands near Wonwoo in the kitchen of the empty apartment, waiting for the water in the kettle to boil.

“Not great,” Wonwoo answers honestly with a shrug. “She caught me with a boy when I was sixteen.”

“Oof,” Mingyu winces sympathetically.

Wonwoo nods in return. “Yeah.”

“My roommate, it went really well for him. His parents are really supportive.” Mingyu sighs like this is a bad thing.

“You don’t think it’ll happen for you?” Wonwoo asks quietly, and Mingyu lets out an unamused laugh.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I don’t.”

“So don’t tell them,” Wonwoo shrugs, knowing that he’s making it sound easier than it is.

Mingyu nods, and Wonwoo is struck by how different he looks now than at the party. Standing barefoot in Wonwoo’s kitchen wearing sweats, his bangs stuck to his face, he looks softer. More vulnerable. “I’m sorry,” he offers, because it sucks.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu says back, his trace expression of sadness being replaced by a small smile. “Do you feel better about taking me home now?”

Wonwoo laughs as his electric kettle goes off, and he turns to pour the hot water in mugs. “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t usually stay at random boys’ houses, how about that.” Mingyu stirs the yujacheong into the mugs as he says it, and Wonwoo snorts.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

“Hey!” Mingyu says, pouting at him. “What’re you saying about my moral character?”

“I’m not saying anything about your moral character, I’m saying you look like that,” Wonwoo gestures up and down Mingyu’s body and Mingyu pulls a face.

“Well you look like that,” Mingyu responds, doing the same to Wonwoo.

“Like what?” Wonwoo asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You’re really cute. Do you not know that you’re cute?” Mingyu asks, looking confused.

Wonwoo blushes. “I don’t know. It doesn’t come up much.”

“That makes me sad. It should come up all the time,” Mingyu says, sounding genuinely exasperated, and Wonwoo’s face still feels warm and embarrassed. He doesn’t respond, looking down at his mug, and he can feel Mingyu smiling at him.

They drink their yujacha in the kitchen, Mingyu pulling himself up to sit on the counter and swing his feet below him and Wonwoo watching him carefully. This is weird. Any way you cut it, it’s weird; it’s weird to have this boy in his kitchen, kicking his feet against Wonwoo’s kitchen counters, wearing his ex-boyfriend’s clothes, calling him cute and grinning like it’s a statement of fact rather than a line. What’s most weird is that Wonwoo feels very normal about all of this, in a way he’s not used to feeling around tall, handsome boys in his kitchen.

He’s used to nerves, used to clammy palms and stuttering over stupid jokes that usually don’t get a laugh. He’s fucking awkward, just as a person in general, and it gets emphasized in situations like this. This is different, and he doesn’t know why. It’s like he’s known Mingyu for longer than five total hours, spread across two drunken interactions. It’s weird, but he’s not complaining.

Mingyu finishes his yujacha first, slipping off of the counter and putting his mug in the sink. He runs water over it, which seems overly conscientious for being drunk and in someone else’s kitchen, and Wonwoo finds himself endeared again.

“Hyung,” Mingyu starts, wiping his wet hands on the front of his sweatpants, “can I sleep in your bed?”

It’s three in the morning and Mingyu looks at him with sleepy eyes, hair hanging soft over his forehead, and Wonwoo doesn’t even have the strength to question it. “Yeah,” he says easily, not willing to admit to himself that he’s still thinking about earlier, when he could feel the solid warmth of Mingyu next to him in that kitchen and it felt so nice.

Mingyu just smiles, looking soft and content, and follows Wonwoo to his bedroom. “Nice plants,” Mingyu mutters, gesturing to the planter in his window before flopping onto Wonwoo’s bed in the dim light.

“Thanks,” he says back softly, turning off the lamp and crawling into the bed.

Wonwoo falls asleep with Mingyu’s cold feet resting against his own, the sound of another person’s breathing close to his ears, all while trying very hard not to think about how nice it feels to be so close to someone, or how much he likes that the someone is Mingyu.

Mingyu wakes up alone. He blinks wearily to himself, rubbing at his eyes, and looks around in confusion. Slowly, the pieces begin to fit together: the plants next to the window, the tea in the kitchen the night before, the rain, the clothes that don’t belong to him. He smiles slowly, letting it spread over him, and he sits up in Wonwoo’s bed.

He has nice sheets, soft ones, and everything in his room is neatly color-coordinated in shades of blue and grey. It’s clean. Mingyu takes these details in carefully, still smiling to himself, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and padding over toward the door in search of the room’s owner.

“Wonwoo,” he calls quietly as he opens the door, looking around.

“Oh,” a voice says from the couch in the living room, “hi.”

Wonwoo’s sitting on the couch, curled up in a ball reading a book, and wearing glasses. Round ones with thin gold frames. Mingyu stares, feeling a little overwhelmed for just having woken up.

“Hi,” he says back blearily.

Wonwoo smiles at him hesitantly, and god, he looks so cute. Mingyu fights the urge to pout in response, because it’s uncalled for, and he smiles back instead.

“I wasn’t sure whether or not to wake you up,” Wonwoo admits, looking sheepish.

Mingyu lets out a laugh. “It’s fine.”

They let the air go quiet between them, that same atmosphere he remembers from the night before lingering on. It’s like the room feels smaller than it is, both of them looking at each other with curious eyes, and it’s nice and a little electric. It’s fun, standing across the room from him and feeling this tension that neither of them want to move too quickly to do something about.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” Mingyu asks it before he’s really aware of his mouth moving, and Wonwoo’s lips twitch upward.

“Yeah, I —” Wonwoo starts, but the front door of his apartment opens, and a tired-looking boy with messy brown hair enters, two bulging convenience store bags in his hands. He heads straight for the kitchen, not showing any sign that he sees either Wonwoo or Mingyu, and it’s only when he turns back around that he glances between them.

“Well, good morning,” the boy says with a loud exhale, putting on a smile quickly. “Wonwoo, motorcycle boy.”

“Scooter boy,” Wonwoo corrects with a smirk, and Mingyu feels vaguely offended.

“Mingyu,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“I’m Soonyoung, and I also live here,” he offers by way of explanation before beginning to pull things out of the convenience store bags. Mingyu recognizes him as one of Wonwoo’s friends that he’s seen around before.

“How was your night last night?” Wonwoo asks, looking a little tentative of the answer.

Soonyoung shrugs, giving Wonwoo a pointed glance. “Fine.”

“Alright, point taken,” Wonwoo mutters.

Mingyu feels awkward standing in the middle of the room, in the middle of a conversation that clearly Soonyoung doesn’t want to have in front of him.

“I should get going, I guess,” he says, and Wonwoo looks over at him, his face hard to read.

Soonyoung looks up at both of them and snorts. “Wonwoo wants to talk to me about my feelings, but,” he punctuates his sentence by setting down some drinks on the counter with a laugh, “I don’t want to do that. So you should stay.”

Wonwoo grimaces, and Soonyoung gives him a cheerful thumbs-up in reply. Mingyu looks at his face again, and it clicks. “Oh! You’re the boy who was dancing on the table last night.”

Soonyoung pauses before letting out a cackle, tilting his head back and everything. “Yeah, man! That’s always me.”

“You’re a good dancer,” Mingyu says brightly, and he means it.

“Keep this one,” Soonyoung tells Wonwoo, who looks embarrassed. He turns back to Mingyu and holds his hand out, offering a little yellow barrel. “Banana milk?”

Mingyu takes it, peels back the lid and watches Wonwoo stand up from the couch, setting his forgotten book on a side table. “I, uh, washed your clothes for you,” Wonwoo says when he gets closer to Mingyu, sounding embarrassed again.

Mingyu grins, crossing his arms in front of him and looking down the few centimeters height gap between them. “That was nice. Thanks.”

“Jesus, sounds like you guys had more fun than me last night,” Soonyoung mutters, still putting food away.

The sweet look slips off of Wonwoo’s face, replaced by a dead-eyed glare in Soonyoung’s direction. “We got stuck in the rain.”

“Ah, less fun than I was picturing, then.”

Wonwoo maintains his glare, stalking off to a back room of the apartment, and he comes back with Mingyu’s black clothes folded neatly in his hands. Mingyu feels a weird surge of affection for him then, this boy who folded his clothes so nicely. It’s strangely domestic, and makes him feel warm and tight in his chest. And also, a little tiny bit like he wants to suck Wonwoo’s dick, which is an instinct that doesn’t surprise him much but isn’t super appropriate in the current context. He bites his lip around a smile and takes the clothes from his hands.

“Thanks,” he says again, and means it. It was a sweet thing to do. Mingyu thinks Wonwoo is maybe really sweet.

“Good morning, boys,” a new voice calls, the door of Wonwoo’s apartment opening and closing, and Mingyu turns around to find yet another person walking in.

“For god’s sake,” Wonwoo mutters before raising his voice so the newcomer can hear him, “doesn’t anyone fucking knock anymore?”

The boy who just walked in, tall and handsome with a wide grin, snorts derisively. “Of course not.”

“Good morning, Seokmin!” Soonyoung says, voice loud like an announcer.

“Good morning, Soonyoung!” Seokmin (apparently) calls back in the same tone, like it’s a routine. He turns over to where Wonwoo and Mingyu are standing in the hallway and tilts his head.

“Motorcycle waiter,” Soonyoung explains, which is an interesting way to explain Mingyu.

“Scooter waiter,” Wonwoo corrects again.

“Mingyu,” he says, giving Wonwoo a mocking glare at the second mention of his scooter. He likes his scooter.

“No,” Seokmin says, “Seungkwan’s friend.”

“We live together, actually,” Mingyu says.

Seokmin laughs loudly, his whole face crinkling with the action. “Knowing Seungkwan, I would imagine that makes it hard to be his friend.”

“Seungkwan, the guy who does that radio thing with you?” Soonyoung asks curiously, and Seokmin nods. And oh, that makes sense; Seungkwan worked hard to secure a spot on the university-sponsored radio station this semester, and this guy’s voice does sound familiar.

“Oh,” Wonwoo says quietly, and they all turn to look at him. “That’s why that name sounded familiar last night.”

“Wait, Seungkwan was at that party?” Soonyoung turns to ask.

“Clearly we all have a lot to debrief from last night,” Seokmin says pointedly, eyeing Soonyoung.

Soonyoung tenses and visibly bristles, rolling his eyes. “Knock it off.”

“He’s making Mingyu stay as a buffer,” Wonwoo says with half a laugh, but he moves closer to Mingyu as he says it, their hands brushing against each other, like a reassurance. He’s not sure what he’s being reassured of; maybe just that Wonwoo likes having him here too.

“Nah, I just like having him around. He makes the room look nicer,” Soonyoung says with a wink, his tenseness abandoned for the sake of the joke.

“Take it down a notch,” Wonwoo says lightly, rolling his eyes.

Mingyu is still holding his clothes in his hands, and he realizes belatedly that he’s still wearing borrowed sweatpants and no underwear. “As nice as it is to be wanted, I’m going to go put clothes on.”

Soonyoung shakes his head. “That’s a losing attitude, Mingyu.”

Wonwoo grins and points in the direction of his bedroom and Mingyu gives a salute. He unfurls the clothes that Wonwoo handed him (and Wonwoo folded his clothes so nicely, it makes him want to die a little) and wonders, as he pulls on his jeans, what kind of plants Wonwoo has, and how long he’s kept them. He also wonders if he snored the night before, and grimaces. Not his cutest habit.

Mingyu opens the door to walk back out into the living room and hears Wonwoo’s voice say clearly, “We didn’t fuck.” He wonders if it’s immoral to eavesdrop, but, well. His morals can take the hit. He leaves the door open and hesitates in the doorway for a minute, listening. “He just crashed here because his roommate kicked him out for the night.”

“Okay,” Soonyoung says, sounding disbelieving, “but he’s still here.”

“Wonwoo has a crush on him.” Seokmin sounds pleased with himself, even if Mingyu can’t see his face.

“I — shut up, jesus. Soonyoung, stop deflecting.” Wonwoo mutters. Mingyu wonders if he’s blushing; he hopes he’s blushing. Wonwoo does have a crush on him, if the number of times he’s looked at Mingyu’s ass is any indication (and Mingyu would hope that it is) but this is more interesting than calling him out on it. It feels fun, in a way that this kind of stuff usually isn’t.

He opens the door properly, stepping back out into the living room and promptly ending the conversation the three boys were having as they all glance over at him. Mingyu waves semi-awkwardly and Wonwoo waves back with a grin, standing up from his seat at his kitchen table and walking over. Seokmin and Soonyoung keep talking, voices quieter, but Wonwoo ignores them.

“So about breakfast,” Mingyu starts, giving Wonwoo a smile.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo asks, looking amused.

“Raincheck?” Mingyu asks. He brushes his hair back from his forehead and catches Wonwoo’s eyes following the movement.

“Oh,” Wonwoo says. It’s possible Mingyu is imagining the disappointment in Wonwoo’s expression, but he’s fine with that. “Yeah. Sure.”

“He won’t text you if you give him your number,” Soonyoung calls from the other side of the room. “Get his instead.”

Wonwoo turns around to glare at Soonyoung from across the room, and Mingyu lets out a laugh.

“It’s true, he’ll just sit around for days moping, wondering if it’s weird to text or not,” Seokmin chimes in.

“When obviously it’s not weird, since you gave him your number,” Soonyoung finishes. Seokmin nods. Wonwoo looks murderous.

“I fucking hate my friends,” Wonwoo mutters, holding his hand out to get Mingyu’s phone and put his number in it.

“I think they have your best interests at heart,” Mingyu offers with a shrug, watching Wonwoo type.

“Yeah, I’m guessing yours do too,” Wonwoo says, eyebrows raised at a notification for a message from Seungkwan that consists only of ten eggplant emojis. Mingyu takes his phone back with a sigh.

“Well,” Mingyu says, shifting his weight on his feet, “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah?” Wonwoo asks, almost smirking.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says back with a toothy grin, “I mean it.”

And he does. Mingyu wants to go to breakfast with Wonwoo and kiss him on the way home and take his stupid cute glasses off before they fuck but he’s trying, he’s trying, to pace himself. Because this, staring at Wonwoo and sharing these smiles like they’re both in on some secret, is fun.

Hansol is sitting on Mingyu’s couch in his boxers.

“Uh,” Mingyu says from the doorway. What else is there to say?

“Oh,” Hansol says, looking up from where he’s eating dry cereal right from the bag, “hey.”

“Hey,” Mingyu offers in response.

“Hansol, that’s disgusting,” Seungkwan says, crinkling his nose as he walks into the room.

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Hansol shrugs, standing up and brushing cereal crumbs off his bare chest. “Where are my clothes?”

“Somewhere in my room,” Seungkwan says, before looking more thoughtful. “Right?”

Mingyu blinks as Hansol shrugs again, walking down the hallway toward Seungkwan’s bedroom.

“Sorry,” Seungkwan says, not sounding very sorry.

“Glad you had a good night,” Mingyu says with a shrug.

“As always,” Seungkwan smirks and Mingyu grimaces. “What about you? You go home with that skinny kid?”

“He’s two years older than you,” Mingyu says with a laugh. He walks over to the fridge and rummages around for something decent to eat.

“So yes.”

Mingyu emerges with three eggs and a bag of cheese. “Yes, but not like that.”

“Like what, then?” Seungkwan asks, looking interested. He’s still in a long sleep shirt and sweatpants, hair mussed, and he looks younger like this.

“I just crashed at his apartment, since I was so politely told to steer clear of my own,” Mingyu says with a grin aimed at Seungkwan, who looks a little embarrassed.

“Well,” he mutters, admonished, before going back to his obvious agenda. “What do you mean, crashed? Like on his couch?”

Mingyu gets a bowl out from the cupboard, not looking at Seungkwan. “No, in his bed.”

“Without sex,” Seungkwan deadpans, disbelieving.

“Yes.”

“How much clothing were you wearing?” Seungkwan is all business about things like this, a passionate and skilled analyzer of other people’s sex lives and love lives.

“Sweatpants and a sweatshirt.”

“You borrowed pajamas?” Seungkwan asks, sounding baffled. “What, was he throwing a big gay slumber party?”

Mingyu snorts loudly, and Hansol drifts back out from Seungkwan’s bedroom, wearing considerably more clothing.

“We should throw a big gay slumber party one day,” Mingyu says.

“You’re not wrong,” Seungkwan responds.

“Can we make forts?” Hansol asks, pulling himself up to sit at the kitchen counter and involve himself in the conversation.

“We can definitely make forts,” Seungkwan replies with a nod.

“Cool,” Hansol grins.

Seungkwan grins back, a little fond, before turning back to Mingyu “So what are you doing?”

“With Wonwoo, or with the eggs?” Mingyu asks, pausing as he cracks an egg into his bowl.

“Wonwoo, mostly,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes.

Mingyu screws his face up. “I...don’t totally know,” He offers with a tentative grin.

Seungkwan gives him a deadpan look, but he drops the subject, instead turning to make fun of Hansol’s outfit (“Will you ever learn to dress yourself properly?”). Mingyu focuses on cooking breakfast and thinking about the way Wonwoo kept smiling at him that morning, sweet and quiet and pretty.

It’s not a date. If Mingyu is sure of anything, he is sure that this is not a date.

“What time’s your date?” Seungkwan asks from the couch.

Mingyu glares.

“Your not-date, so sorry,” he says with a smirk. Mingyu continues to glare, but he looks back at himself in the mirror, straightening his shoulders and examining his outfit.

“This feels too nice,” Mingyu complais, biting his lip at his reflection. It’s just a white button-up tucked into black jeans but that’s like, something.

Seungkwan turns and eyes him up and down, assessing him. “You look like you’re from an anime.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Mingyu asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I don’t know. You usually look like you’re from an anime.” Seungkwan says casually.

Mingyu gives him a face.

“Okay, not usually. Usually you look like a dumb cute boy, because that’s what you are.”

“Hey,” Mingyu frowns.

“But whenever you like someone you dress all dramatic, like the boy that Sailor Moon dates. Tuxedo boy.” Seungkwan turns back to his magazine.

“Tuxedo Mask,” Mingyu corrects quietly, going back to looking at his reflection. Seungkwan raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t comment.

Mingyu looks himself up and down again. Tuxedo Mask was handsome, though. It’s not a bad thing.

“What are you wearing?” Mingyu asks Seungkwan.

“Well, this, probably,” Seungkwan says, gesturing to his own outfit. It’s Seungkwan’s usual brand of casual preppy nonsense. “But I’m not trying to get laid.”

“Seungkwan,” Mingyu whines, frustrated, “Do I change or not?”

Seungkwan sighs, turning to give Mingyu his full attention. “Don’t change. You look very handsome.”

Mingyu nods, satisfied. He doesn’t actually know if he’s trying to get laid or not, but he’s trying to make something happen. It’s been a week since his night spent at Wonwoo’s house, and they’ve been a little too busy for him to spend any real effort on Wonwoo, much to his chagrin. They message each other more and more regularly, but it’s so friendly. He thinks it might just be a side-effect of Wonwoo’s quiet personality, but Mingyu is just a tiny bit frustrated.

When the invitation got extended to him for this birthday party, Mingyu jumped on it immediately. They hadn’t actually spoken much in person, outside of Wonwoo visiting Seungcheol at work a couple times and saying hello in passing. But then Wonwoo went and said to bring Seungkwan too, like the nice, dumb guy he is, and Mingyu went back to sighing dramatically at his KakaoTalk screen.

But he’s determined as he and Seungkwan walk up to Wonwoo’s apartment building (and it’s novel, walking up to it sober this time) that something will happen. When they walk in, the front door left open, Mingyu takes in the sight of seven grown men loudly discussing the plot of a recent drama.

“I’m telling you, she’ll end up with the other guy, this one’s too nice,” Seokmin says, rolling his eyes. Seungcheol nods from behind him.

“Oh,” Mingyu mutters, mostly to himself, “I like the nice guy.” The room at large turns to look at him and Seungkwan, who’s rolling his eyes at Mingyu.

“They’re childhood friends! I like that kind of relationship,” Mingyu defends himself, trying not to pout.

“Yeah, he looks out for her,” Wonwoo chimes in, and Mingyu gives him a grin.

Seungkwan waves his hand dismissively. “The writers never let those kind of things be the final couple.”

“Exactly!” Seokmin yells, and Seungkwan walks over to sit near him with a grin.

Mingyu moves from the doorway where he had been standing, over into Wonwoo’s general area. “Hi,” he offers with a wave.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says back with a grin, “I’m glad you came.” Mingyu doesn’t miss the way Wonwoo’s eyes trail up and down his figure. He thanks Tuxedo Mask.

“Me too,” Mingyu says. They grin at each other, and Mingyu missed the act of watching Wonwoo grin at him — he’s so cute.

Behind Wonwoo, a brown-haired boy rolls his eyes and turns to the boy sitting next to him, muttering something in another language.

“Stop talking about me, Jun,” Wonwoo says with a glance behind him, but he doesn’t seem too concerned.

“Great party,” Mingyu says, gesturing around to the scene. It’s Seungcheol, the pretty boys he was hanging around with at the girls’ party, a girl laughing loudly near them, Seokmin, the two boys speaking what sounds like Chinese behind Wonwoo, and the two of them; they’re all sitting on or near the couch and continuing to argue over the drama in question.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “It’s a surprise party. We’re waiting for the surprise part.”

“Of course,” Mingyu nods. Wonwoo rolls his eyes again, a grin spreading across his face.

“Soonyoung says they’ll be here in twenty minutes,” Seokmin announces to the room at large, and the girl near them cheers weakly.

“Where’s your boy...person…?” Seokmin asks Seungkwan, trailing off at the end like he’s unsure.

Seungkwan snorts. “My boy person is coming later.”

“There’s a lot of romantically involved boys at this party, huh,” the girl muses, raising an eyebrow. Said romantically involved boys all look around at each other, and Mingyu experiences the familiar feeling of realizing his exact social niche, which is admittedly homogenous (and some other adjectives that begin with the prefix homo, as well.) They all give a collective shrug and the girl grins, looking amused.

“Amber’s coming later,” one of Seungcheol’s boys (Jisoo? Mingyu has met them more than once, he should know by now) says to her with a smirk, and she looks pleased at that.

“And if I know Amber, she’ll bring a few romantically involved girls as well,” the girl muses. “I’m Amy, by the way. Er, Yejin,” She self-corrects, catching Mingyu looking at her.

“American,” Wonwoo mutters to Mingyu as explanation.

Mingyu gives her a grin and introduces himself back, wondering how she fits into this group.

“How do you decide what name to give?” Mingyu asks her curiously.

“I don’t know,” Yejin shrugs. “I’m trying to use my Korean name more. Being in Korea and all.” She gives him a shimmering smirk and he finds himself grinning back, feeling like he’s in on some joke. Mingyu likes her, he decides.

The group spends the time before the birthday boy arrives talking amongst themselves lightly, Seokmin and Seungcheol standing up to put finishing touches on decorations, dimming lights and hanging the last birthday banner (Mingyu counts six scattered around the room.) More people come sit on the couch and Mingyu gets crowded into Wonwoo’s space, their thighs pressed together warmly, and the point of contact is nice. Wonwoo looks flustered by it, and Mingyu finds that he likes when Wonwoo looks flustered.

“They’re coming!” Seokmin shouts frantically. “Hide!”

They all follow directions, Wonwoo grabbing Mingyu’s wrist to lead him to a suitable hiding spot, behind the curtains of the window. Mingyu grins, looking at Wonwoo’s face, and moves so that they’re holding hands instead. Wonwoo looks over at him, smiling sweetly, and Mingyu squeezes their hands tighter as the door of the apartment opens.

The conversation between the two boys in the doorway cuts off as everyone jumps from their hiding places and yells, “Surprise!”

Mingyu recognizes Soonyoung, and next to him must be the Jihoon written on all the banners. Mingyu’s brain clicks in recognition, realizing this is the short boy he saw kissing Soonyoung at that party.

Jihoon looks startled, embarrassed, and he turns to Soonyoung in surprise.

“Happy birthday, Jihoonie,” Soonyoung says, simpering sweet, and Jihoon chokes out a laugh.

“Fuck,” he mutters, laughing more. “Thanks.”

The group whoops and cheers as Seokmin brings out a cake, all of them launching into a quick rendition of the birthday song with Seokmin and Seungkwan apparently trying to out-harmonize each other.

Jihoon blows out his candles, still looking a little embarrassed, and someone begins a chorus of “Drink! Drink! Drink!”

Mingyu takes the first shot offered to him but doesn’t drink any more, noticing Wonwoo doing the same, and they sit on Wonwoo’s floor at the side of the party, talking as quietly as the music will allow.

“So what’s their deal?” Mingyu asks, gesturing loosely toward where Jihoon and Soonyoung are stationed, Jihoon leaned up against a wall and Soonyoung dancing ridiculously in front of him, making Jihoon laugh.

“Great question,” Wonwoo deadpans. “I feel like they’re a little bit in love.”

“Ah,” Mingyu mutters, nodding. He watches Jihoon’s expression, warm and endeared to the way Soonyoung is flailing his limbs, and it makes something in him ache a little.

“What’s their deal?” Wonwoo asks in return, pointing to Seungkwan and Hansol, who arrived moments before with Chan in tow. Chan’s wandered off now and Hansol has his hand on Seungkwan’s hip while they stand in the kitchen.

“They’ve been dating for months and are both still convinced it’s very casual,” Mingyu snorts. “Meanwhile he basically lives at our apartment.”

“Oh, always fun,” Wonwoo says with a smile, and Mingyu grins back.

“I like Hansol, but I’ve found his underwear in my laundry more times than should be considered acceptable.”

“Young love,” Wonwoo says, faux-wistfully, and it makes Mingyu laugh.

“You’re the only person I know who laughs at my jokes,” Wonwoo says through a laugh of his own, sounding a little surprised.

Mingyu just grins and looks at him. “You’re funny.” He means it.

More people filter into the party, including a girl with short hair wearing baggy clothes who he assumes is the one Yejin mentioned, since she brings seven girls in her wake. He recognizes a few other familiar faces, but they gravitate toward Yejin and stay in one pack.

“You guys are boring!” Soonyoung shouts at them as he passes, drink in hand, but Wonwoo just waves him off dismissively. “Come on, we’re playing ten fingers, I’m making everyone join.”

Wonwoo looks over at him questioningly before he responds, and Mingyu shrugs. “Okay.”

The room is barely big enough for all of them to sit in a circle, but Mingyu and Wonwoo squeeze in after grabbing obligatory drinks, knees knocking against the people next to them.

“Alright, everyone. House rules: you drink when you put a finger down. First one with no fingers left gets a punishment,” Soonyoung announces, sounding very official, before sitting down. “Jihoon gets to go first.”

Jihoon takes a moment to glare at him before looking around the group thoughtfully. “I’ve never slept with a woman,” he says finally, aiming a smirk at Yejin.

“Fuck you,” she laughs, raising her glass, along with a few of the girls next to her. Seungcheol, Seokmin, Hansol and Wonwoo drink as well, and Mingyu turns to raise his eyebrows at Wonwoo. He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed, but Mingyu just nods with a smirk.

“I’ve never sucked a dick,” Yejin fires back quickly, and Jihoon sighs and drinks in response. The girls laugh as almost every man in the room raises his glass, with the exception of Chan, who looks embarrassed. Mingyu is thankful for Chan’s ten fingers still being up; he’s only a year below Mingyu but he feels protective over him sometimes. more protective than he feels over Seungkwan or Hansol.

They continue on, friends targeting each other unabashedly from across the circle (and Mingyu learning that Wonwoo has been in a fight, gotten high, and rimmed someone, which are all interesting things to learn.) There are some people down to three fingers, but everyone’s gotten tipsy enough that the game is losing structure, someone remembering to offer something every few minutes between conversations.

“So. A tattoo, huh?” Wonwoo asks him, an eyebrow raised.

“Ah. Yes,” Mingyu gives an embarrassed grin in response. It was the fourth finger he lowered, at Seungkwan’s doing.

Wonwoo sips his drink and makes a considering noise. “Is it too forward to ask where?”

“No, it’s not too forward. Is it too forward for me to ask you to wait to find out?” Mingyu asks, feeling brave despite how very sober he is.

Wonwoo bites his lip, a grin spreading despite it. “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Mingyu grins back. He looks Wonwoo over, his dark hair pushed back a little messily with gel, his sharp features, and he wants to kiss him. A lot. He wants to kiss him a lot.

Wonwoo looks at him back, biting his lip again. “I need a cigarette.” He stands up and looks down at Mingyu, still sitting on the floor, nodding his head for Mingyu to come with.

He follows behind Wonwoo through the hallway to his bedroom, and stares as Wonwoo starts to climb out his third-floor window.

“Fire escape,” Wonwoo says with a small grin, and slips all the way out to the other side.

It’s not too warm out, but Mingyu ignores the chill in favor of watching Wonwoo hold a cigarette between his lips, the flame of his lighter illuminating his face in the darkness, his slim fingers moving deftly after practicing the actions for so long.

“I can’t smoke inside, Soonyoung gets mad,” Wonwoo says, rolling his eyes a little and blowing smoke from his mouth. Mingyu knows it’s bad for you but that doesn’t make it stop looking cool, and Wonwoo looks very cool leaned up against the railing of his fire escape.

“What do you do in the winter?” Mingyu asks with a smile.

“Freeze,” Wonwoo laughs back.

They’re quiet for a moment, and Mingyu leans his back against the railing, trying not to stare at Wonwoo’s mouth.

“Sorry if this party kind of sucks,” Wonwoo says, grinning sheepishly.

Mingyu snorts. “It’s fun.”

“My friends are weird.”

“I like your friends,” Mingyu says back, catching Wonwoo’s eye and grinning. He grins back. Mingyu runs his hand through his hair and decides to go on. “Besides, no offense, but I didn’t come to see your friends.”

Wonwoo does that thing where he bites his lip on a smile again, looking down toward the alley below them, and it’s so fucking cute.

“I kind of didn’t want to be drunk tonight. I just wanted to see you and be sober for once,” Wonwoo laughs.

“Me too,” Mingyu says, smiling. “I kind of wasn’t sure if...because you asked Seungkwan too, I didn’t know…” He trails off, not sure how to finish. What he wants to say is was this a date? But he doesn’t really want to say it, it feels like an accusation.

“Oh. Shit. Sorry,” Wonwoo says with a quiet laugh. “I invited Seungkwan because Seokmin forgot to. I, um. I should have made it more clear. I really wanted to see you again. In a maybe not totally friendly way.”

Mingyu feels relieved. “Oh. Good. Me too.”

They look at each other again, quiet. Wonwoo ashes his cigarette without looking at it before putting it out on the railing and moving to slip halfway through his window, seemingly looking for something.

Mingyu laughs and gives him a questioning look when he comes back out, putting something in his mouth.

“Mint,” Wonwoo gives as explanation.

Mingyu keeps looking at him and Wonwoo looks back, seemingly not wanting to expand further.

“I wanted to kiss you but I didn’t want to taste like an ashtray,” Wonwoo admits, looking a little embarrassed.

“I don’t think I would have cared,” Mingyu says with a smirk, feeling that familiar heart-pounding excitement of liking someone, of chemistry and tension that he wants resolved.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo asks, stepping forward toward him.

Mingyu’s still leaned against the railing, facing the window, and he props his elbow behind him, tilting his head like it’s a dare. “Yeah.”

Wonwoo takes another tentative half-step forward but Mingyu gets impatient, reaches and pulls Wonwoo forward by the wrist until they’re nearly pressed together. Wonwoo looks surprised but doesn’t wait any longer to lean in and kiss Mingyu once, soft and easy. It’s nice, Wonwoo warm against him in the chill of the night, solid and lean and kissing him so carefully. He likes that Wonwoo has to lean up even though their heights are so close. Mingyu moves his hand to Wonwoo’s waist, fingers gripping into his side without Mingyu seeming to have much control over it, maybe a little desperate.

Mingyu is pleased to learn that Wonwoo is a good kisser, escalating from his first soft kisses to something a little quicker and messier as his hand finds Mingyu’s hip. Mingyu tastes the mint on his breath as their mouths open, tongues meeting sloppily. Kissing him is fun, just like talking to him is fun, just like being near him is fun.

Mingyu thinks errantly that he might be in deep on this one, and that’s when Wonwoo’s thigh finds its way between Mingyu’s, making him gasp in surprise.

Wonwoo laughs his low laugh, and Mingyu giggles back.

“You should really take me on a date before we go any farther,” Mingyu says quietly with a smirk.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo asks, bringing up his thigh to rut against Mingyu’s already half-hard dick again.

“Or at least take me inside,” Mingyu says after another loud inhale.

“How about we do this first, and then we can go on a date after?” Wonwoo asks, and it could be just banter, but Mingyu thinks he’s being sincere.

“I’ll take you up on that, Jeon Wonwoo,” Mingyu says, leaning forward and kissing him again.

“Come on,” Wonwoo says, pulling away and leading Mingyu by the hand through the window and back into his bedroom. Mingyu kisses him as fast as he can get to him, putting his hands firmly on Wonwoo’s narrow hips. Wonwoo’s fingers brush through Mingyu’s hair, coming down to cup his jaw, and it feels so gentle that it makes Mingyu feel overwhelmed. He remembers the morning when Wonwoo brought him his clothes all neatly folded up, the sweet look on his face, and Mingyu feels so endeared to this boy.

They keep kissing, getting less cautious and more desperate and Mingyu moves one of his hands to ruck up the hem of Wonwoo’s shirt, fingers moving over the soft skin of Wonwoo’s stomach and making Wonwoo inhale sharply. Mingyu giggles into their kiss and Wonwoo takes advantage of them being broken apart to move down and kiss Mingyu’s jaw, his neck. Mingyu makes a contented noise, hand winding up to Wonwoo’s chest to run across one of his nipples experimentally. Wonwoo gives another quiet hiss of an inhale and Mingyu wonders if Wonwoo is always this quiet in bed. He gives himself a little challenge, to hear more of Wonwoo’s voice, but he’s distracted from his thoughts when Wonwoo bites at Mingyu’s neck.

Mingyu moves the hand that was still gripping Wonwoo’s hip to cup at the crotch of Wonwoo’s jeans instead, and Wonwoo makes a soft surprised noise. Mingyu feels satisfied at the sound, and Wonwoo pulls away from Mingyu’s neck to look up at him.

“I like you,” Mingyu says simply, because it’s true and he feels like saying it, and Wonwoo blinks, smiling at him sweetly.

“I like you too.”

It makes Mingyu’s stomach flip excitedly, and he leans in to kiss Wonwoo softly again before swiftly getting on his knees in front of the other boy.

“Is this how you always tell people you like them?” Wonwoo asks, laughing and looking surprised.

“Oh, did you want me to get back up?” Mingyu asks innocently, fingers pausing from their work on Wonwoo’s belt buckle.

Wonwoo swallows thickly but shakes his head, and Mingyu gives him another innocent smile as he finishes pulling the belt off, moving to unbutton Wonwoo’s jeans. He pauses before unzipping them completely, hands moving to ruck Wonwoo’s shirt back up again. He kisses at Wonwoo’s abdomen, teeth grazing over his hipbones. Wonwoo puts a tentative hand on Mingyu’s shoulder and it makes Mingyu grin, the familiar hesitance of being with someone new and not knowing what they like, what they want. He kisses Wonwoo’s stomach again, making the muscles there jump, before he looks up at Wonwoo.

“You can pull my hair,” Mingyu says with a wolfish grin. “Just in case you were wondering.”

“Good to know,” Wonwoo says back with his own grin, small and a little overwhelmed. He weaves his fingers through Mingyu’s hair, giving a soft tug like he’s testing it out, and Mingyu bites his lip before unzipping Wonwoo’s jeans and pushing them halfway down without much care or precision. Wonwoo’s erection is more exposed now, straining against the fabric of his boxers, and Mingyu leans forward to mouth at him through the cloth.

Wonwoo makes a small noise that turns into something like a laugh. “You don’t waste any time.”

Mingyu snorts, probably an unsexy act, but he doesn’t care much. “Well, anyone could give the best blowjobs, but I’m aiming for the most efficient blowjobs,” he says seriously, pulling down Wonwoo’s boxers as he speaks.

The truth is Mingyu has never mastered the art of teasing, of stretching foreplay out for as long as possible. He’s always too enthusiastic, and he gets sloppy and desperate too soon. He knows what he wants and he takes it, unwilling to delay gratification for long. But goddamn if he still doesn’t have fun.

With Wonwoo’s pants and boxers pushed down, he’s now eye-level with Wonwoo’s cock instead, and he can’t control himself enough to stop the small grin on his face.

“What?” Wonwoo asks him, sounding concerned, which is understandable. It’s weird for someone to smile at your dick.

Mingyu laughs, leaning forward and resting his head on Wonwoo’s hip. “Sorry, just, uh. You have a nice cock. I got excited.”

“Jesus christ,” Wonwoo mutters, but he sounds amused, at least.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mingyu mutters, still giggling softly.

“This isn’t very efficient,” Wonwoo points out with a laugh and it sends Mingyu into another fit of laughter.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m nervous,” Mingyu says, grinning up at Wonwoo. It’s a weird interaction to be having a couple inches away from Wonwoo’s hard dick, the absurdity of the situation not lost on either of them. “I’ll be serious now.”

“Well, I don’t know if I want you to be serious,” Wonwoo says with a laugh.

“Too bad, because I’m going to be serious! I’m very sexy,” Mingyu nods seriously.

Wonwoo laughs at him again, and it’s a nice warm sound but Mingyu kind of wants to shut him up, so he takes that moment to wrap his hand around the shaft of Wonwoo’s dick, opening his mouth and letting the head rest on his tongue. It certainly does the job, Wonwoo choking off mid-laugh and gripping Mingyu’s hair.

He starts a rhythm, hand working at the base of Wonwoo’s cock and mouth working at the top, as far as he can comfortably take it. He looks up and makes eye contact with Wonwoo, whose eyes are half-lidded already, and Wonwoo moves his hand to stroke down Mingyu’s face. It’s so sweet, so tender, and Wonwoo keeps doing shit like this that makes Mingyu’s heart hurt. He shouldn’t be allowed to like a boy he knows this little so much.

He pulls off and leans forward to press a soft kiss on Wonwoo’s exposed hipbone, hand pumping the full length of his cock with his hand to make up for the absence of his mouth. He moves his hand in a slow, steady rhythm, and pushes up at Wonwoo’s shirt, glancing up at him.

“Take it off?” he asks quietly, voice coming out low, and Wonwoo nods at him.

“You too,” Wonwoo says back. His voice sounds strained, like he’s trying to keep it level, and Mingyu twists his hand, runs his thumb under the head of Wonwoo’s cock to try to knock his composure. It works, Wonwoo letting out a low moan and looking embarrassed afterward.

“I’m kind of busy,” Mingyu huffs out a laugh, twisting his hand again.

“C’mere,” Wonwoo says, grabbing Mingyu’s unoccupied hand from where it was gripping Wonwoo’s thigh and pulling him up to his feet. Mingyu lets go of his grip on Wonwoo’s cock and winces at the feeling in his knees as he stands, but doesn’t have long to dwell on it as Wonwoo pulls him in and kisses him quickly, hands reaching to unbutton Mingyu’s shirt. It’s messy, his fingers clumsy and Mingyu’s arms knocking against Wonwoo’s, and Mingyu pulls away from the kiss with a laugh.

“Hold on,” he breathes, and steps back to unbutton his own shirt. He gestures at Wonwoo, who follows suit dutifully, pulling his own long-sleeve shirt over his head and throwing it on the floor near his bed. The music from the party is audible from the living room, bass thumping as Wonwoo kicks off his jeans and boxers from where they were hanging around his knees and finally stands naked in the middle of his bedroom.

Mingyu looks him over, his thin frame and his long legs, and bites his lip hungrily, hurrying to unbutton the rest of his shirt. He lets it drop on the floor and steps toward Wonwoo again, putting his hands on Wonwoo’s waist and letting his fingers dig into the bare skin there before kissing him. Wonwoo makes a content noise and he moves his hand so that the heel of his palm grinds against Mingyu’s clothed erection.

Mingyu lets out a surprised moan, head falling forward onto Wonwoo’s shoulder, and Wonwoo moves to unzip Mingyu’s jeans. He lets out a sigh of relief when his erection is only straining against the fabric of his underwear, and Wonwoo reaches below the waistband of his briefs to give Mingyu’s dick a few strokes.

Mingyu moans again into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck, and Wonwoo lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re loud.”

Mingyu laughs back breathily. “Yeah.” There’s no use denying it at this point, since he’s only gonna get louder.

He presses a kiss to the base of Wonwoo’s neck, where his face is currently resting, but pulls up to kiss his lips again, too. “Get on the bed.”

Wonwoo nods, kissing him again before complying. He lies on his back, eyes trained on Mingyu.

“You’re fucking pretty,” Wonwoo says, watching as Mingyu kicks off his jeans and pulls his underwear down before flopping onto the bed on his stomach in front of Wonwoo.

“You too,” Mingyu says back with a grin.

Mingyu’s eyes travel up and down all of Wonwoo’s newly exposed skin and he catches Wonwoo doing the same to him, eyes trained on him hungrily until suddenly he breaks into a loud laugh.

“What?” Mingyu asks, confused, before he remembers.

“Your fucking tattoo,” Wonwoo says, covering his mouth to try to contain his laughter. Right. That.

It’s a small outline of a smiley face, only a few centimeters big, but tattooed on his right asscheek, which is directly in Wonwoo’s line of sight.

“I was drunk,” Mingyu shrugs his shoulders with a grin.

“I’m shocked,” Wonwoo manages, exhaling heavily after his laughter.

“Are you done laughing now?” Mingyu asks with a smirk, scooting forward on his elbows so that his breath nearly hits Wonwoo’s cock.

“Mhm,” Wonwoo says with a content grin, hand reaching down to run through Mingyu’s hair again.

“Good,” Mingyu says, before leaning forward and taking Wonwoo’s full length into his mouth. He hollows his cheeks as he comes back up, and he hears Wonwoo let out a strained moan from the head of the bed. Mingyu’s thumbs rub circles on Wonwoo’s skinny thighs as he bobs his head up and down, suppressing his gag reflex and enjoying the way Wonwoo’s stomach keeps tightening, the way his grip on Mingyu’s hair has gotten less gentle. He lets one of his hands reach up to run across Wonwoo’s torso, his chest, moves his fingers so they run across one of Wonwoo’s nipples. It’s fun, feeling him and seeing what he reacts to. He brings his other hand to cup Wonwoo’s balls, and Wonwoo moans his loudest yet when Mingyu manages to roll one of Wonwoo’s nipples between his fingers and hold his balls at the same time.

He pulls off of Wonwoo and breathes heavily, wiping his mouth on the back of one of his arms. “Can you do me a favor?”

Wonwoo opens his eyes from their previously half-lidded state and tilts his head questioningly instead of responding.

“Don’t come. I want you to fuck me.” Mingyu’s voice is wrecked and it comes out ragged, makes Wonwoo raise his eyebrows and rub his face in his hands.

“Yeah. I can do that,” he responds finally, his pitch even lower than usual, and Mingyu smirks up at him.

He plants another little kiss on Wonwoo’s hip before going back to work, mouthing at his balls and stroking him with his hand, his cock wet with spit and pre-come. Mingyu grinds his own erection into Wonwoo’s sheets, desperately hard, and Wonwoo’s hand runs over Mingyu’s shoulder.

He goes on for another couple minutes, placing kisses along the shaft of Wonwoo’s cock and licking up the underside, before Wonwoo lets out a ragged groan and says, “If you don’t want me to come, you need to stop soon.”

Mingyu licks one more stripe up to the head of his cock, licking at the sensitive spot underneath the head once more before relenting, pulling himself up and wiping his mouth off before kissing Wonwoo roughly.

“Shit,” Wonwoo mutters, sounding overwhelmed. His leg shifts and accidentally rubs against Mingyu’s hard-on, causing Mingyu to let out a desperate moan.

“Do you have lube?” Mingyu asks, rocking himself down to find friction again. Maybe it’s embarrassing, how desperate he is, but he’s hard.

“Uh,” Wonwoo mutters, “Yeah. Somewhere. Hang on.”

Mingyu rolls off onto his back to let Wonwoo get up, and he watches as Wonwoo pads over to the dresser on the other side of the room, opening the first and second drawers and looking through them. He sighs heavily before turning back around.

“So that’s a no,” Mingyu says, grinning but feeling a little disappointed.

“I know Soonyoung does, but…” Wonwoo starts, burying his face in his hands. “God, he’s gonna make fun of me forever.”

“Guess you need to figure out which you’d prefer, then,” Mingyu smirks. “Not getting teased or not getting laid.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Wonwoo grins, walking over to his wadded up jeans on the floor and emerging with his phone. He lays back down on the bed, and Mingyu watches him type over his shoulder.

SOS can I pls pls PLEASE borrow your lube. If u love me you’ll say yes

Mingyu snorts out a laugh and Wonwoo turns his attention back to him once he presses send, turning onto his side and running a hand across Mingyu’s chest. He kisses Mingyu’s shoulder, the nearest body part to his face, and lets his fingers trace the outlines of Mingyu’s barely-there muscles that he’s a little too proud of. It feels nice but his dick is aching, and his hips thrust into the air above him. Wonwoo gets the point and moves his hand to wrap around Mingyu’s dick, already slick with pre-come, causing Mingyu to gasp out a moan.

Wonwoo’s phone vibrates on the bed next to them and it startles them both, Wonwoo laughing quietly afterward. He grabs his phone with his free hand and looks for a minute between his hands, clearly considering the fact that he doesn’t want Mingyu’s pre-come on his phone screen.

“Gimme,” Mingyu says, waving both his free hands, and Wonwoo does.

“The passcode’s 0717,” Wonwoo says before turning over on top of Mingyu and kissing his neck, a hand still wrapped around his dick.

Soonyoung’s reply opens on the screen, HAHAHAHAHAH OMG u should have planned ahead!!! what if i need it later

Wonwoo moves down from Mingyu’s neck to his collarbones and then his chest, and he must have noticed that Mingyu reacts most when Wonwoo uses his teeth because now he keeps biting, and it’s driving him insane.

Mingyu types out a response with unsteady fingers, pausing halfway through to groan at something Wonwoo does with his hand. we’ll give it back i promise!!!!!

Wonwoo keeps moving, down Mingyu’s stomach, his mouth finally meeting his own hand on Mingyu’s dick.

“Fuck,” Mingyu breathes as Wonwoo takes the head of his dick in his mouth.

“I don’t really like my hair pulled,” Wonwoo pulls off to say, “In case you were wondering.”

Mingyu nods, balls his fists in Wonwoo’s sheets instead, and Wonwoo’s phone vibrates again.
i know thats not wonwoo, he never uses exclamation points. tell him he owes me big time. u owe me too because why not

Controlling his hands is harder this time, but he takes the care to type out a response back. soonyoung idk u that well but i’ll owe you a million if you want

Wonwoo pulls off and looks up at him. “How’s that going?”

“I’m negotiating,” Mingyu says, bucking his hips into the hand Wonwoo still has wrapped around his length.

“Ah,” Wonwoo says, nodding with a grin and licking at the head of Mingyu’s dick again.

There’s a loud knock on Wonwoo’s door a minute, followed by a voice laughing and saying, “Special delivery.”

“Thank god for Kwon Soonyoung,” Wonwoo mutters, standing up and walking over, his gait more of a limp from his hard-on. He angles himself so that only his head is visible, and Mingyu spreads Wonwoo’s sheets over his lower half as Wonwoo opens the door.

“Hello, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung greets with a wide smirk, glancing in through the crack Wonwoo opens in the door. “Hello, Mingyu.” Mingyu waves from the bed.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo mutters, grabbing the bottle from Soonyoung’s hand.

“Do you need condoms too? Am I your one-stop sex supplier?” Soonyoung asks, holding out a condom.

“No, asshole.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but he takes the condom anyway.

“Bring that back when you’re done! I think I might need it later,” Soonyoung warns as Wonwoo shuts the door on him.

“We will!” Wonwoo yells through the door.

“You owe me, Jeon Wonwoo!”

Mingyu giggles as Wonwoo walks back over, looking victorious, and lays down on the bed in front of Mingyu. He doesn’t take the time to talk, just opening the bottle and slicking up a finger before looking up at Mingyu like he’s asking permission. Mingyu nods, reaching down and running a hand through Wonwoo’s hair gently as Wonwoo nudges his legs further apart.

Mingyu hisses a little as Wonwoo’s finger goes in, closing his eyes at the slight discomfort. “Been a while,” he mutters, and Wonwoo’s free hand runs up and down his thigh soothingly.

“Do you usually…” Wonwoo trails off questioningly. Mingyu catches his drift.

“Sometimes. I don’t really have a preference.” Mingyu opens his eyes back up as he starts to get used to the feeling and shrugs down at Mingyu. “Oh. Do you have a preference? I should have asked, sorry, I just —”

Wonwoo grins and shakes his head, cutting him off. “It’s okay. I don’t really care either.”

“Cool,” Mingyu says, nodding. “You can move that, by the way.”

Wonwoo nods, pressing his finger in further and slowly bringing it back out. It starts to feel more normal the more he does it, and Mingyu relaxes. After a few minutes it starts to feel good, the way it’s supposed to feel, and he can tell that Wonwoo is getting closer to his prostate. He keeps leaning forward and kissing at Mingyu’s dick, his balls, his thighs, and the feeling makes Mingyu sigh happily.

“Another,” Mingyu says quietly, nudging Wonwoo’s shoulder with his hand, and Wonwoo nods, uncapping the bottle of lube again.

It’s a few thrusts after adding another finger that Wonwoo hits his prostate, and Mingyu lets out an involuntary moan. Wonwoo grinds into the bed to find friction and Mingyu runs his hand through Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Gimme a few more minutes,” he says, voice low and soft. “I want to feel you so bad.”

Wonwoo kisses Mingyu’s thigh again and says, “You know, I really expected you to be more of a dirty talker.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu lets out a breathy laugh. “You given this a lot of thought?”

“Maybe some,” Wonwoo admits.

“Not enough to buy lube.” It’s hard to keep up banter with Wonwoo hitting his prostate every few thrusts, but he’s having fun, so he’s trying.

“Fuck off,” Wonwoo laughs.

“Have you gotten off to the thought of me?” Mingyu asks, voice ragged. If Wonwoo expected dirty talk, he shouldn’t let him down, even if he’s usually not very good at it.

Wonwoo hesitates before answering, mouths at Mingyu’s balls. “Have you?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu admits. “I had a dream about you the other night.”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo breathes. “Really?”

“Yep,” Mingyu grinds down on Wonwoo’s fingers, trying to get them deeper. “I was on all fours and you made me come without touching me.” It was a good dream.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo repeats, angling himself upward to take Mingyu’s cock in his mouth again, making Mingyu moan.

“I don’t want that tonight, though. I want to see your face. I want you to kiss me,” Mingyu keeps talking, even though at this point it might be embarrassing. He doesn’t care. “C’mon, I’m good.”

Wonwoo pulls off of his dick and takes his fingers out, leaving Mingyu feeling empty below Wonwoo’s gaze.

“You’re goddamn beautiful,” Wonwoo mutters, looking him over.

“If you keep saying things like that, you’ll give me a big ego,” Mingyu says with a lazy grin, propping himself up on his hands to lean up and kiss Wonwoo. It’s soft, and Wonwoo grins back at him when they split apart.

Wonwoo reaches for the condom and Mingyu lays back down as he hears the foil rip and the lube bottle open again. Wonwoo scoots up between Mingyu’s legs and Mingyu widens them, bending his knees and wrapping his legs around Wonwoo’s back.

“C’mon,” Mingyu says again with a smirk like it’s a dare, and Wonwoo accepts his challenge as he lines himself up and presses into Mingyu.

Mingyu hisses again, having forgotten how much bigger Wonwoo’s dick is than his fingers were, and Wonwoo pauses after he bottoms out, letting Mingyu adjust.

Mingyu nods after a minute, and Wonwoo pulls back, slowly thrusting in again. Mingyu groans at the feeling, the familiar sensation of being so full.

Wonwoo’s propped up on his elbows on top of Mingyu, and one of them slips, letting their bodies fall flush against each other, and Mingyu can hear Wonwoo’s ragged breathing in his ear. “You feel — so good,” he chokes out, kissing Mingyu’s cheek.

He turns his head and catches Wonwoo’s lips, kissing him slowly as Wonwoo thrusts into him again. It’s good, all of it; the soft way Wonwoo kisses him, the building rhythm of his thrusts, the way Mingyu’s dick is trapped between them, friction on all sides. He hears himself making noise but his brain feels fuzzy and he can’t focus enough to be quieter.

He doesn’t know how long they fuck, because things start to blur together the closer Mingyu gets, the faster Wonwoo goes, the more their kisses start to just be panting.

At some point, Wonwoo moves a hand down to Mingyu’s dick and starts stroking him, mutters in his ear, “Want you to come first.”

Mingyu is more than happy to oblige, and the feeling of Wonwoo hitting his prostate coupled with Wonwoo’s hand on him reduces him to near-sobs within just a few minutes. He finally loses it with a loud cry, arms wrapped around the back of Wonwoo’s neck, and he pants harshly as he comes down from his orgasm. Wonwoo thrusts into him faster, going after his own release, and Mingyu lets out a wrecked groan at the feeling. He musters up the energy to reach up and run his hands through Wonwoo’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and he watches Wonwoo’s face as he comes, biting his lip and collapsing on top of Mingyu.

He breathes heavy, face buried in Mingyu’s neck, and Mingyu runs his hands across Wonwoo’s back soothingly, holding him without thinking much of it.

“Damn,” Wonwoo mutters, voice unsteady, and Mingyu laughs gently.

“That was fun,” Mingyu mumbles, body heavy and relaxed.

Wonwoo laughs this time. “That’s putting it lightly.”

“Next time, the knees thing,” Mingyu says. His arms are still wrapped around Wonwoo’s back, and it feels so intimate and nice.

“Definitely,” Wonwoo agrees. His voice is muffled into Mingyu’s skin.

“Or I could ride you,” Mingyu muses absentmindedly, his mouth mostly working independent from his brain.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo chuckles.

“Or you could ride me.”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says again. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Don’t die before we can do the knees thing,” Mingyu mutters, reaching down to pat Wonwoo on the ass affectionately.

Wonwoo lets out another laugh before he pulls himself up onto his elbows, leaning down to kiss Mingyu. He pulls out of him finally, and Mingyu feels empty again, his skin sticky with sweat and his own cum.

Wonwoo gets up to throw the condom away and Mingyu rolls over onto his stomach. “Time is it?”

“Only midnight,” Wonwoo answers, flicking his lightswitch off. It’s early to sleep, especially with the music and yells of Jihoon’s birthday party still audible from the living room, but Mingyu doesn’t care. He’s tired, and Wonwoo is too.

“You still owe me a date, you know,” Mingyu says with a grin.

“You got plans tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks, climbing back into bed.

“I do now.”

They smile at each other, sleepy and dumb from their orgasms, and Mingyu lays his head on Wonwoo’s chest.

“I meant it when I said I like you,” Mingyu says, running his hands over Wonwoo’s stomach absentmindedly with his eyes closed.

“I meant it too,” Wonwoo says back without any hesitation. “I’ve been thinking about you for three weeks.”

They’re quiet, Mingyu drifting near sleep, when Wonwoo jolts up suddenly. “Shit.”

“What is it?” Mingyu asks blearily.

“Soonyoung’s fucking lube,” Wonwoo grumbles. Mingyu laughs as Wonwoo sighs and stands up, looking around for clothes to put on.

“You’re a good friend,” Mingyu calls weakly. Wonwoo slips on a pair of pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt.

“I try,” Wonwoo sighs again, giving him a small wave before slipping out the door with the bottle in hand. Mingyu lets his eyes slip closed but they open again at the sound of Wonwoo’s door opening back up.

Wonwoo has a towel in his hand, and he sits down at the edge of the bed, offering it out. Mingyu pulls the sheet back from his body and takes the towel, cleaning off his stomach lazily.

“Thanks,” Mingyu mutters. “Take your clothes off again.”

Wonwoo laughs but follows directions, pulling them off easily and getting back into bed.

“You’re useless after you come, aren’t you?” Wonwoo asks him.

“Ah, but I’m very useful before I come, so it all balances out,” Mingyu explains, slinging an arm over Wonwoo’s waist and tugging him closer.

“Of course,” Wonwoo replies.

Mingyu drifts off to sleep like that, the two of them huddled close together, and he doesn’t even notice the noise of the party in the living room.

Wonwoo wakes up to the sound of someone else snoring. He doesn’t open his eyes yet, taking stock of the situation in his mind. He feels good, well-rested, and Mingyu is pressed against him, warm and solid and big. It’s nice, even if Mingyu is snoring in his ear, and Wonwoo thinks he might really have to be far gone for him to consider snoring cute.

Mingyu shifts in his sleep, rolling onto his side and letting his morning wood poke against Wonwoo’s hip, surprising him into opening his eyes. Good morning, Mingyu, he thinks to himself. It’s been a while since he woke up naked with someone, and he kind of forgot this is sometimes a consequence. Not that he’s particularly upset about it, anyway. He likes Mingyu’s dick; it’s a welcome guest.

He thinks about the night before, the memory of Mingyu dropping to his knees so easily stuck in his mind, and he thinks he should do something nice in return. First, though, he slips out of bed, pulling a pair of pajama pants and his glasses on as he tries to quietly pad out to the kitchen.

He’s startled half to death by the sight of Jihoon sitting on the kitchen counter, drinking coffee and writing something in a notebook. “Fuck,” he mutters, rubbing at his eyes blearily.

“Oh,” Jihoon says with a glance in his direction, “Morning.”

“What’re you doing here?” Wonwoo asks. He could probably guess, but he and Soonyoung don’t usually spend the night here, opting for Jihoon’s empty apartment instead to avoid this exact situation.

Jihoon takes a sip of coffee, eyes locked on his notebook. “Well. I slept with Soonyoung last night.”

His honesty takes Wonwoo by surprise, and he pauses in his reach for a glass from the cabinet. “Oh.”

“We, uh. Are...involved. Romantically. I guess,” Jihoon states matter-of-factly. He scribbles something in his notebook.

“Romantically.” That’s a new one on Wonwoo.

“We had a talk,” Jihoon offers as explanation.

“A talk,” Wonwoo says again, a little disbelieving.

“Stop repeating me,” Jihoon snaps, glaring up at him.

“Sorry,” Wonwoo shrugs. He takes a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water from the tap. “I’m glad you had a talk.”

“Yeah. Me too, maybe,” Jihoon says, a small smile on his lips as he looks back down at his notebook.

Wonwoo drinks his water and Jihoon drinks his coffee, both of them quiet.

“You had fun last night,” Jihoon smirks up at him, and Wonwoo feels himself blush.

“I did,” Wonwoo admits, because it’s the truth.

“How big is his dick?” Jihoon asks curiously.

“Jihoon.”

“What?” Jihoon gives him a look, like it’s the most natural question in the world.

“What if I asked you how big Soonyoung’s dick is?” Wonwoo asks. His cheeks still feel flushed.

“I would tell you it’s smaller than mine,” Jihoon says simply.

Wonwoo pauses. “Really?”

Jihoon takes another sip of his coffee. “Really.”

“Good for you,” Wonwoo says, a little impressed.

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” Jihoon sighs, but he’s grinning teasingly. “He’s so tall, I’m just curious how that proportions out.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, grabbing another glass from the cupboard and refilling them both. “Goodbye, Jihoon.”

“Goodbye, Wonwoo,” Jihoon says in an imitation of Wonwoo’s deep voice, and it makes Wonwoo laugh.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Wonwoo offers with a grin.

Jihoon smiles back at him, looking genuinely happy. “Thanks.”

Wonwoo fights the urge to message Seokmin and gossip, deciding to instead let the dust settle and Jihoon and Soonyoung figure out what they’re doing, exactly. So he doesn’t grab his phone from his nightstand when he sets down the glasses of water, instead just crawling back into bed next to Mingyu, whose limbs are spread across Wonwoo’s mattress, sheets tangled around him. Mingyu is a messy sleeper, Wonwoo has learned, but it’s endearing.

"Hey," Wonwoo murmurs as he settles himself back in bed, a hand on Mingyu's shoulder. "Hey, Mingyu.

It takes a moment before Mingyu comes to, looking a little confused at the set-up. "Hey," he finally says back with one of his toothy grins, his eyes still sleepy.

"Mingyu, is it okay if I blow you right now?" Wonwoo asks quietly, and Mingyu's eyes widen visibly.

"Yes? Yes, that is very okay," he assures in a hurry, like Wonwoo will decide against it if he waits too long. Wonwoo just grins in response, feeling a little shyer now that Mingyu is awake, but still, he lowers himself down the bed and pulls the blanket covering Mingyu’s legs down with him before his hard-on is uncovered.

Wonwoo didn’t answer Jihoon’s question because it’s none of his business, but the truth is Mingyu is big, in proportion with his large frame. He has a nice cock, Wonwoo thinks to himself as he positions himself between Mingyu’s legs. Pretty, like the rest of him.

He wastes no time, leaning forward and taking as much of Mingyu into his mouth as he can. He expects Mingyu to jolt further awake, but instead he just lets out a low moan, eyes slipping closed, hips shifting unconsciously. Wonwoo hollows his cheeks, hand moving around the part of Mingyu’s shaft that his mouth can’t reach, and Mingyu moans again.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, and Wonwoo glances up to find that he’s opened his eyes again, running a hand through his hair.

Wonwoo pulls off and grins. “Good morning.”

Mingyu laughs low in his throat but it’s cut off by another moan, Wonwoo’s hand still working. His glasses fall down his nose precariously and he moves to take them off with his free hand, but Mingyu mutters a distinct, “Don’t.”

Wonwoo pauses for a second, looking up at him confused.

“Uh, keep...keep your glasses on,” Mingyu says, sounding embarrassed. “Please.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, but he nods. “Okay.”

Mingyu smiles, his blush visible from Wonwoo’s position. “You just look so nice.”

Wonwoo doesn’t have anything to say to that, the compliment making his own cheeks pink, so he goes back to sucking Mingyu’s dick with more enthusiasm. The muscles in Mingyu’s stomach keep jumping, making themselves more prominent, and it looks good. Mingyu looks good, all toned tan skin, eyes closed as he bites his lip around another moan.

It doesn’t last much longer, Mingyu balling his fists in Wonwoo’s sheets and whimpering as he gets closer. Wonwoo can feel his own hard-on through the pajama pants he’s still wearing, pressing into his bed insistently.

“M’gonna come,” Mingyu warns, voice low and strained. He must expect Wonwoo to pull off, but he doesn’t, lowering himself further onto Mingyu and causing Mingyu to make an overwhelmed noise.

He comes with another last loud moan, body curling in on itself and hips bucking into Wonwoo’s mouth. The noises he makes afterward while Wonwoo swallows around him are so soft and desperate, so overwhelmed, and when Wonwoo pulls off he takes a minute to appreciate how wrecked Mingyu looks.

“Fuck,” Mingyu mutters again. “Did you just swallow?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says, hand running soothingly over Mingyu’s thigh where the muscles are still tensing and untensing.

“Fuck. Come here.”

“I need to brush my teeth first,” Wonwoo laughs, and Mingyu sighs.

“I don’t care. I just want to kiss you,” he whines, lacing his fingers through Wonwoo’s.

“Gross,” Wonwoo laughs again, but he gives into Mingyu’s request and crawls up the bed toward him. Mingyu kisses him desperately, like it’s urgent, and doesn’t seem to care that Wonwoo must taste like morning breath and cum.

Wonwoo has his knees on either side of Mingyu’s hips, leaning down over him to kiss him, and Mingyu seems to notice Wonwoo’s hard-on pressing into his stomach for the first time.

“Oh,” he mutters between kisses, “here.”

He reaches his hand under the waistband of Wonwoo’s pajamas and his thumb spreads pre-come from Wonwoo’s slit down, hand twisting up and down Wonwoo’s length.

Wonwoo sighs into the touch and into their kiss, Mingyu pumping him quickly and roughly.

“What do you want?” Mingyu asks him, pulling away from their kiss.

“This — is good,” Wonwoo gasps out. He just wants to come quickly, not enough energy for anything else.

“Kay,” Mingyu grins at him, leaning up to kiss him again. Wonwoo’s losing the focus for kissing, mostly just gasping at the feeling of Mingyu’s hand, but Mingyu kisses at his lip and his jaw while his hand moves.

Wonwoo comes without much warning, groaning and collapsing on top of Mingyu at the feeling. Mingyu rolls them over gently, pushing Wonwoo’s hair off his face and kissing him softly.

“Good morning,” Mingyu says with a quiet laugh. He runs his hand across Wonwoo’s chest and Wonwoo nods with a lazy grin.

“Let’s get breakfast this time,” Wonwoo says quietly, coming down from his orgasm, and Mingyu laughs again, louder this time.

“You snore,” Wonwoo says simply, sitting across from Mingyu in the kimbap shop. The ahjumma who works behind the counter collects their filled out order and they both pause their conversation to bow and thank her.

“I know,” Mingyu says with a sigh, but he’s grinning. “It’s not too loud, is it?”

“No, it’s pretty quiet,” Wonwoo says, grinning back before he sips his tea.

“My mom used to tell me I was best at sleeping and eating,” Mingyu says with a laugh.

“Those are good skills to have.”

“Yeah, they make my life better,” Mingyu nods happily.

“So,” Wonwoo says after a pause. “Glasses?”

Mingyu instantly flushes crimson and covers his face with his hand. “I am not discussing this in public.”

Wonwoo laughs loudly, covering his mouth. He likes seeing Mingyu blush; he comes off so confident most of the time, and it’s nice to see a moment that doesn’t seem so well-composed.

Their food gets brought over, and they both thank the ahjumma again before beginning to eat.

“You know, I usually do this the other way around,” Mingyu offers mid-bite, unconcerned with his full mouth. “The date, and the...other stuff.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo says with a grin at Mingyu’s self-censorship. “Me too.”

“So what…” Mingyu trails off with a laugh. “Sorry if this sounds cliche. But what are we going to do now, exactly?”

“Well, you like me,” Wonwoo starts. Mingyu nods. “And I like you. So maybe we could just keep doing the dates.” Wonwoo pauses before considering the fact that the time for coyness has already passed, probably around the time he put his fingers in Mingyu’s ass the night before. “And the other stuff.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Mingyu grins over the table at him, and Wonwoo grins back. They eat quietly, smiling at each other too much, and when they leave, Mingyu laces their fingers together and leads them down the street.

“Come on, there’s a shop I like down here,” Mingyu says, glancing behind him with a wide toothy grin, and Wonwoo thinks he might be willing to follow this boy around anywhere.

“Is it dumb that I’m nervous?” Mingyu asks, half-dressed as he looks through his closet for a shirt.

“Yes,” Wonwoo answers from his spot on Mingyu’s bed. He’s scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, head propped up on Mingyu’s million pillows.

Mingyu turns around to glare at him, his familiar annoyed expression, and Wonwoo grins apologetically.

“What’re you even nervous about? You know all my friends.”

“Yeah, but this is different. This is like a thing for you guys and I’m just like...the guy you’re fucking,” Mingyu rolls his eyes.

Wonwoo sighs and stands up, walking toward Mingyu’s back and resting his chin on Mingyu’s bare shoulder. “First of all,” he starts, wrapping his arm around Mingyu’s middle. “You’re not just the guy I’m fucking. We’ve been dating for two months.”

Mingyu makes an unconvinced noise in response.

“Second of all, Seungcheol is bringing Jisoo and Jeonghan, and everyone finds that arrangement way more entertaining than us. Third, my friends all like you.”

Mingyu sighs and lets his head lean against Wonwoo. “Your friends are all cool and intimidating.”

Wonwoo snorts. “That’s a goddamn lie. Have you met Seokmin?”

“It’s mostly Jihoon. And Junhui,” Mingyu admits.

“Jihoon likes you. He thinks you’re cute, like a puppy,” Wonwoo assures Mingyu, rubbing his side sympathetically.

Mingyu turns to him and makes a face. “I’m not a puppy.”

“You’re a little bit of a puppy,” Wonwoo says with a grin.

“You’re so rude,” Mingyu says, jerking his shoulder and knocking Wonwoo’s chin off of it. Wonwoo laughs, rubbing at the underside of his jaw.

“You have no idea how likeable you are. I can’t believe you get nervous about my dumbass friends,” Wonwoo says softly, resting a hand on Mingyu’s hip.

“Yeah? How likeable am I?” Mingyu asks him, clearly getting over his annoyance in favor of the compliments.

“You’re a brat,” Wonwoo laughs, but he continues quickly, “but you’re charming. And you’re funny.”

Mingyu looks satisfied so Wonwoo leans up and kisses his cheek. “And you’re handsome.”

Mingyu finally grins at him so Wonwoo walks away, taking his place on Mingyu’s bed again. “Plus, Hansol, Seungkwan and Chan are coming too.”

The whole conversation makes it seem like they’re going to some event, when in reality they’re going to Seungcheol’s to play video games and eat pizza. It’s somewhat of a ritual for Wonwoo and his friends, but tonight they’ve expanded their group; Wonwoo bringing Mingyu, Seungcheol inviting his boyfriends, plural. Mingyu’s friends are maybe the biggest wildcard of the night, but they’re not just Mingyu’s friends; when Wonwoo and Mingyu started spending more time together, so did Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung, who all got along annoyingly well. Chan ended up being one of the dancers who trained at the studio that Soonyoung worked for, and Hansol and Minghao had a class together. It was all eerily perfect, in Wonwoo’s opinion, but no one asked for it much.

“It’ll be fun,” Wonwoo assures him as he picks out a t-shirt from the closet, pulling it on and giving him a disbelieving look. “If it’s not, I’ll fake sick so we can leave early and make out in my car.”

“That I approve of,” Mingyu says, but he looks appreciative of Wonwoo’s efforts to soothe his nerves.

“We need to go soon, though. I told Seungcheol I’d pick up beer,” Wonwoo says, which is really his way of asking Mingyu to go see if Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan are ready.

Mingyu and Wonwoo are only a year apart, and Wonwoo doesn’t notice it much, but he does notice it when he has to drive Mingyu’s younger friends around because they don’t have cars. It makes him feel old, and Mingyu teases him for it.

“I’ll round them up,” Mingyu says, catching Wonwoo’s drift. He musses Wonwoo’s hair as he walks by, and Wonwoo glares after him, making Mingyu giggle.

They end up crammed into Wonwoo’s semi-functional car, Mingyu sitting in the passenger seat pressing the buttons to switch radio stations constantly, as he is wont to do, and the three younger boys squished into the backseat, Hansol and Chan arguing about comic books. Seungkwan keeps chiming in to let them know he thinks they’re both idiots. Wonwoo feels slightly like he’s driving actual children around, like a busy parent, but he does like them. He can be a good senior when he needs to be.

He knocks on the door to Seungcheol’s apartment, boys and beer in tow, and Seungcheol smiles warmly when he opens the door.

“Hey, man,” Seungcheol says, wrapping him in a hug. Seungcheol is a hugger. He hugs Mingyu, too, who smiles at him.

“We bear gifts,” Wonwoo says as he walks in, pointing to Seungkwan, Hansol and Chan, who are each carrying two six-packs of beer.

“You’re so mean, making the kids carry it,” Seungcheol says with a laugh, stepping forward to grab two of them.

“I drove them here,” Wonwoo defends himself. Seungkwan, Hansol and Chan don’t seem very concerned, piling into the apartment after Wonwoo and looking pleased.

Most everyone is already here, spread throughout Seuncheol’s fairly small living room. Jeonghan is talking to Junhui on the couch, hands gesticulating, while Seokmin and Minghao sit on the floor and talk. Jisoo intercepts the rest of the beer, carrying it to the kitchen with Seungcheol, before he joins Hansol and Chan’s still-going conversation, Seungkwan trying admirably to argue for the other side. It’s loud, too many conversations going on at once, and Wonwoo leads Mingyu to sit on the other side of the couch with Jun and Jeonghan.

“I’m not good at video games,” Mingyu laments with a glance at the PS3 sitting in front of the TV.

“Really?” Wonwoo asks. They sit crowded together, Wonwoo half in Mingyu’s lap, but Wonwoo doesn’t really care. “I thought you were good at stuff like that. You’re an engineer.”

“Well, I’m good at detail stuff, like where you need precision,” Mingyu shrugs. “But I think my reflexes are too slow for video games.”

“This morning I watched you walk into a wall. I think your reflexes are too slow for a lot of things,” Wonwoo laughs, and Mingyu turns to glare at him again.

“It’s weird when Wonwoo’s smiling and you’re glaring,” Seungcheol says, walking in front of them. “It’s like you switched faces.”

Wonwoo glares at Seungcheol and Mingyu laughs, and Seungcheol offers, “See, that’s more normal.”

“I’m a nice guy,” Wonwoo says defensively. “I can’t help how my face looks.”

Jihoon and Soonyoung walk in the door, bickering quietly in the familiar way they have.

“You’re being obtuse,” Wonwoo hears Jihoon mutter, making Soonyoung laugh.

“I’m always being obtuse. Let’s drop it for now, yeah?”

It’s only two sentences but it works, making Jihoon sigh and nod. If they weren’t directly in Wonwoo’s line of sight, he wouldn’t catch the fact that Soonyoung fixes a piece of Jihoon’s hair where it’s shoved under a backwards baseball cap and Jihoon touches his hand as he does it, an affectionate gesture. Wonwoo isn’t much of a romantic, not the way Mingyu and Seungkwan and Seungcheol are, but sometimes seeing Jihoon and Soonyoung together makes him one. He never tells them to their faces, of course, but he admires them, the way they work so well together, like a team. They separate, Soonyoung walking toward the beer and Jihoon walking toward Mingyu.

“Hey,” he offers at Wonwoo and Mingyu, turning to nod at Seungcheol as well. Seungcheol moves to sling an arm around Jihoon’s shoulder, and Jihoon tolerates it without complaint, something that only happens with Soonyoung or Seungcheol touch him.

Soonyoung comes back around, handing a beer to Jihoon, who grins at him in thanks.

“Hey Mingyu,” Soonyoung says, looking amused, “nice toothbrush.”

He’s referring to the toothbrush holder Mingyu recently purchased to leave on Wonwoo’s bathroom mirror, tired of carrying an extra toothbrush around with him as a precautionary measure. More specifically, he’s referring to the fact that it’s in the shape of a cartoon frog with a matching themed toothbrush, much to Wonwoo’s amusement.

“Thanks,” Mingyu says brightly, giving a thumbs-up, and Jihoon cackles at him.

Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s bathroom is getting busy lately, Jihoon’s toothbrush also sitting on the counter and stray products that neither Soonyoung or Wonwoo use finding their way onto shelves and the ledge of the shower. Wonwoo’s noticed the same happening to Mingyu’s bathroom, Hansol’s cologne permanently on the bathroom counter and his and Wonwoo’s plain-colored toothbrushes disturbing the very well-curated collection of cute bathroom decorations that Seungkwan and Mingyu have accumulated (everything always smells like fruit in there.)

Seungcheol pulls out a FIFA game and Junhui orders the pizza, as usual.

“How much pizza do we even need? For thirteen people?” Junhui asks, sounding distressed, putting his hand over the microphone of his phone.

They end up getting four large pizzas and apologizing profusely to the delivery girl; Seokmin tries to flirt with her, and they all boo him until he just smiles apologetically and closes the door.

“It’s her fuckin’ job to deliver you food, man, she doesn’t want to flirt with you,” Soonyoung says with a laugh when Seokmin glares at them.

Seungcheol is, as per usual, winning the match. He’s playing against Minghao, who keeps swearing in Chinese. At least, Wonwoo assumes he’s swearing, since Junhui keeps laughing at everything he says.

Wonwoo and Mingyu are fairly isolated on their corner of the couch, Wonwoo having been shoved onto Mingyu’s lap earlier by someone else’s feet and not bothered to move.

“I told you it’d be fine,” he mutters for only Mingyu to hear.

Mingyu pinches his side, making Wonwoo squirm, but doesn’t argue it.

“I’m gonna go smoke,” he announces to the room at large, waiting for Jihoon to join him, as he usually does.

When there’s no response, he glances over at Jihoon, who’s biting his lip. “I’m...trying to quit.”

The room stills and everyone glances between Soonyoung and Jihoon.

“Whoa,” Junhui mutters quietly, looking taken aback.

“Everyone shut the fuck up,” Jihoon says authoritatively, glaring at them.

“Soonyoung can’t be this good in bed,” Seokmin laughs, earning a murderous look from Jihoon.

“Seokmin. Shut the fuck up,” Jihoon repeats forcefully.

“Shutting the fuck up,” Seokmin says, putting his hands up defensively.

Soonyoung smiles at Jihoon and Jihoon glares at him too, but there’s not much heat there.

“Uh, I’ll go with you,” Jeonghan says, breaking the weird quiet of the room.

“Cool,” Wonwoo says, getting up from Mingyu’s lap and running a hand over his shoulder with a grin before he walks outside.

They each pull out their individual cigarettes, and Wonwoo offers to light Jeonghan’s cigarette for him.

“I can’t quite figure out Jihoon,” Jeonghan laughs, giving Wonwoo a friendly look.

They haven’t spent a lot of time one-on-one, and it’s nice that he’s making the attempt. Wonwoo laughs back. “He’s an interesting guy.”

He inhales, and then figures he should explain more. “He’s been smoking as long as I knew him. Soonyoung always wanted him to quit but he always got annoyed about it.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan says with a nod. “But now…”

“But now they’re dating, which...changes things, I guess,” Wonwoo shrugs. He’s slightly less surprised than everyone else; sometimes Wonwoo feels like by virtue of living with Soonyoung, who sees Jihoon at his softest, Wonwoo also gets a glimpse of it. They’re not as close as Soonyoung and Jihoon always were, long before they started messing around, but he likes to think he’s up there.

“So how is...everything?” Wonwoo asks, trying to be polite.

“Good,” Jeonghan smiles at him. He’s so pretty, it’s no wonder Seungcheol’s been infatuated with him for so long.

“Good.” Wonwoo smiles back. He likes Jeonghan and Jisoo; they’re funny and kind of dorky and Jeonghan always puts Seungcheol in his place, which is fun to watch. It’s unconventional, but they all seem happy, and Wonwoo certainly isn’t in a place to judge for unconventionality.

“So if you haven’t figured out Jihoon, who have you figured out?” Wonwoo asks, ashing his cigarette. It’s getting colder outside, and soon smoking is going to be a huge pain in the ass, just like it is every winter. Wonwoo shifts his weight on his feet, shoving his free hand into his pocket.

“Hm, well,” Jeonghan says around an exhale, “Soonyoung is funny, but I think he’s kind of serious and responsible underneath it. Seokmin and Seungkwan seem a little more carefree. Junhui’s quiet, but I think he’s kind of sarcastic. Minghao too, even though he comes off so sweet. Hansol seems goofy, I don’t really get his sense of humor yet. I like Chan, he’s cute but he’s kind of a dick. I like that.” He rattles them off on his fingers while he talks.

“You look all intimidating with that face, but you’re actually kind of shy, I think. And Mingyu, he looks like one of those rich, tsundere characters from a drama,” Jeonghan says, which makes Wonwoo choke on his inhale, laughing loudly. “He does, right? But he’s just a sweet kid.”

Wonwoo gives an assessing nod. “You’re good.”

“I’m observant,” Jeonghan laughs.

It’s a lot to pick up in the two months Jeonghan and Jisoo have spent around them, and Wonwoo’s a little impressed. Jeonghan is good with people, he thinks.

“I was a little nervous about coming to this, you know,” Jeonghan says after a minute.

“Mingyu was too,” Wonwoo says with a frown. “Why? Are we scary?”

Jeonghan laughs. “No, you’re not scary. Just, you guys really love each other, the seven of you. It’s like you’re meeting someone’s family.”

Wonwoo is a little touched by that. “Oh.”

He takes the last drag of his cigarette, thinking of something to say in response. “It wasn’t always seven of us. It was Jihoon and Soonyoung, then Seokmin through Soonyoung and Seungcheol through Jihoon, then me through Seungcheol. Junhui through me, Minghao through Junhui. We adopt new members, is all I’m saying.”

“Well, I’m honored to be going through the adoption process,” Jeonghan says with a chuckle.

“We’re glad to have you,” Wonwoo says with a grin. “Jisoo too.”

Jeonghan drops the butt of his cigarette on the pavement and stubs it out with his foot, smiling brightly up at Wonwoo. “Thanks.”

They walk back inside, and Wonwoo feels a little warm and sentimental at the chaotic scene in front of him. Everyone is yelling or laughing or eating messily, piled near each other out of convenience and casual affection. Mingyu walks over to him from the kitchen, offering him a beer, and Wonwoo grins happily at him. For a moment he fights the urge to kiss him, but then he decides he doesn’t care, and he leans upward to press a soft peck against Mingyu’s lips.

Mingyu looks pleased but embarrassed, and the few people around them who saw it whistle teasingly.

“Hello to you,” Mingyu says with a laugh, leaning into Wonwoo’s space and bumping their hips together, and Wonwoo feels such a surge of affection for this boy.

People keep telling him how happy he looks lately. And it’s not that he was unhappy before — he’s a fairly happy person, by and large — but Wonwoo thinks maybe he’s coming to appreciate more the good things in his life. In this particular moment, he has his hand on his cute boyfriend’s hip, he’s surrounded by the people he cares about, and he is happy. And it’s nice.

“Do you wanna spend the night at mine tonight?” Mingyu asks him absentmindedly, not much weight on the question.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo answers with a grin. “I do.”

His friends keep yelling around him and it’s messy and loud and Wonwoo reminds himself again that he is happy.