Work Text:
On a Wednesday night. Sometime around 9 P.M.
“It isn't even so obvious, Mingyu.”
Mingyu shushes the other, his eyes not straying away from his phone's screen. “Don't start, hyung!”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, the gesture going unnoticed by Mingyu, too caught up in monitoring himself in the newly posted episode, to pay Wonwoo any mind.
He chews meticulously on the dumpling he's currently eating, and swallows before he continues.
“I'm just saying—” Wonwoo starts, “—that no one would see anything. Your neck was covered, alright? Don't worry too much.”
From the foot of the bed, Mingyu groans and pauses the video. The plate from Wonwoo's lap jolts when Mingyu moves next to his side. He then thumps his forehead on Wonwoo's shoulder a few times.
Wonwoo brings him closer; one arm draping over Mingyu's back, the other holding onto the plate with his meal, to not spill food on the sheets. The tiny dot that damps the sheets, near Wonwoo's criss-crossed legs, shows that he's not doing such a good job.
“This is your fault, you know it?”
Wonwoo hums; puts another dumpling in his mouth. There's no point denying anything.
Mingyu starts the video once more, from the beginning. Wonwoo shakes his head.
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Some weeks ago. Sometime after 12 A.M.
You could say it had been Wonwoo's fault.
A lapse of judgement on his part, an impromptu late night drink session with his members on a day followed by a busy schedule— a barmy decision made in the heat of the moment.
Wonwoo and alcohol never mixed well, in the sparse chances when they met. Wonwoo and brown liquids from foreign brands, with their thick fancy glass bottles and strong smell (and even stronger effects), much less so. But Vernon's dad had brought the bottles as a present for his son's birthday, some days ago, and Seokmin had been trying to find an occasion to try them since then.
So, Wonwoo reasoned, at least Seokmin was to be blamed as well, then.
Sure, Wonwoo was at fault the most, but Seokmin had been the one who texted him to hurry up on the second floor, hyung, i think i broke my arm.
In his hasty way of coming down the stairs faster (to help that piece of ungrateful little liar with his supposed injury), he put the slippers on the wrong feet (the right on left, the left on right— bad omen). He almost took a dive to the ground on his way towards the elevators. He had to stop from running after that; he didn't need a trip to the hospital, as well.
For all purposes, Wonwoo didn't have any reason to believe Seokmin would've lied to him. Who in their right minds would lie about an injury?
(Wonwoo's innocent mistake, that he believed Seokmin to be sane.)
When Wownoo rounded the corner to enter the living room from the second floor, he saw, through squinted eyes, the low table from the middle of the room first, as crowded with half finished bottles as it was. Some cartoon containers, now empty, with what had been their dinner, Wonwoo guessed, and plastic glasses were laying at random on it (and beside it, and underneath it, and nowhere near it). The first mess of the night.
His members were all in various stages of drunkenness, slouched around the room— some on the armchairs, some on that ugly, maroon sofa that had dubious stains on it, from that time Chan and Vernon had tried to paint their nails with black polish, but ended up dropping it all over the sofa.
The hyungs were on the ground, Jeonghan and Seungcheol were talking in hushed voices about something or another just on the side of the table, their faces close, thighs pressed together, fingers clasped through fingers.
Joshua, with his back leaning on the sofa, had his head turned to listen to something Junhui was saying from where he was perched up on the sofa.
The only one standing was Seungwan, buzzing between them all, coming from one group to another, bothering either Vernon and Jihoon, both sitting on the armchairs, each with their phones in their hands, or the group on the sofa. Chan seemed to be his favourite target, as per usual.
Soonyoung was either drunk or too hyped, Wonwoo could never tell with the other. Half the time Soonyoung acted like he downed several bottles of soju in a row, even if he hadn't consumed anything. Wonwoo wouldn't judge him for it, if only the other wasn't so damn annoying.
He was currently screaming off-tune a dynamic song, limbs moving to a made-up beat in the little space he occupied on the sofa, to Minghao's visible exasperation. The poor guy was backed on the furthest corner, shifting in place with every move Soonyoung made, cringing with his whole body whenever the other turned to ‘sing’ in his face. Why Minghao hadn't shoved him off the sofa yet, it was beside Wonwoo. He sure wouldn't have put up with such behaviour.
Seokmin was trying to hide behind Joshua's back, his entire body almost one with the floor.
With them all gathered around in a single room, after some months since the last time it happened, it almost made Wonwoo forgive Seokmin for lying to him over text. (Almost.)
All sans Mingyu, actually, who was still out for the day despite it being a little over twelve in the night, seeing his friends or something (having a social life, meeting his group of acquaintances or whatever, Wonwoo hadn't been awake when Mingyu left, early in the morning; he didn't even care. It wasn't like Wonwoo had waited for the other to call him all day or something, no, of course not, why would've he done that?).
That being said, Wonwoo reckoned that Mingyu was to be held responsible at least for some of that night's happenings, too.
For him ending up drinking, just one glass Wonwoo-yah, come sit down! Seungwan, get Wonwoo off Seokmin, that had to be Mingyu's fault. (Mingyu's fault, that Wonwoo hadn't been more careful, too.) If Mingyu had been there, it would've been certain Wonwoo never ended up being tricked into trying the liquor.
So then, Jeonghan was blameworthy, as well.
‘Just one glass’, his ass. Once Seungwan stopped him from beating Seokmin with the misplaced slippers he, more or less, dragged them by their hands and made them sit beside each other, scolding Wonwoo when he tried to reach for Seokmin's hair.
Jeonghan made it his mission to keep Wonwoo's glass filled, once Wonwoo settled back. Soonyoung, sitting just at his back, feet dangling on either side of Wonwoo, urged him on.
Of course, Wonwoo could have just refused to drink more after that first sip he took, which left his throat stinging. But he had to admit— the liquid was good. Strong and awful at first, but it left him with a pleasant burning on the insides of his throat after the second.
The fact that Seungcheol kept on saying that Wownoo was a lightweight, comparing him with Soonyoung, you get drunk on one glass and a little of soju, Wonwoo-ah, stop teasing Soonyoung, only fuelled Wonwoo on taking bigger gulps from his drink. Wonwoo was not accepting to be put on the same level with Soonyoung, of all people!
He was not a big fan of alcohol, so Wonwoo seldom drank more than little sips from his glass whenever they gathered together for some drinks, as they did now (in the rare occasions he bothered drinking at all). And sure, Wonwoo had never had a high tolerance, but still!
The fact that not even one of the members had tried to take Wonwoo's side when he said he was not a fucking lightweight, I never even got drunk before, but rather started howling at him with laughs and mockings and ‘what do mean you never got drunk’, and ‘you're more like Soonyoung that you think when you're drunk’ had insulted him enough that he downed his glass in one big and soundly, ugly gulp. Bad decision.
It stung.
Indeed, the hard liquid was not like the ordinary, craved after a refreshing hot pot or a good grilled beef, soju. Or his drink of choice, beer.
It was bad.
It was good.
Rich in flavour and sensations, the liquor travelled fast through his body, through his veins, getting at his head much faster than he was used to. I shouldn't have drunk on an empty stomach, I think.
But Wonwoo hadn't eaten that night. His only meal of the day consisted of that stir-fry Mingyu made in the morning, before he went out. Wonwoo had eaten the meal cold, because to reheat it, meant to work. And today was Wonwoo's free day. He couldn't just do work on his free day. So he'd eaten that stir-fry and only that.
He could've made something himself for dinner, sure. And he'd thought about it. He'd been craving kimchi fried rice since earlier in the day. The kimchi was in the fridge; the rice was already cooked. If he fried an egg and put it on top, wouldn't it be so delicious? Chop a green onion as well? A can of beer on the side to clean away the oiliness of the dish?
Sprawled on his bed, with an open book on his chest (one he'd started reading, but abandoned after thoughts of spices and flavours invaded his mind), contemplating what else to put on that imaginary plate his brain conjured, thus had been the way Wonwoo wasted his free day. Until Seokmin's text. Until this drink that made Wonwoo all…
It made Wonwoo feel all alive.
His skin, crawling with thousands of invisible tiny ants, left his body alert, on edge— like he'd start running any minute now, if his limbs wouldn't feel all so heavy.
Everything around him was suddenly so funny. Like— like Soonyoung's attempts to kiss Minghao! That shit was hilarious! I should try it too!
Somewhere, somehow, in his all of a sudden happy state of mind, he heard someone saying something like ‘Will you take more? He's completely hammered, he keeps on trying to kiss Seokmin’, which might've been about him, because he was indeed trying to kiss Seokmin; but, it might've been about Soonyoung— he, too, was trying the same thing.
“Hyung, make them stop!”
Seokmin kept on shoving his hand on Wonwoo's face, which— rude! He was only trying to kiss him on the cheek! Couldn't he tell how ridiculous it was?
It was so ridiculous, Wonwoo felt his mouth hurting with how ridiculous it was! He no longer could feel his lips, so Wonwoo wasn't sure how he'd go through with his plan if he didn't have lips anymore.
Just to be sure, he brought his hand at his mouth level, feeling around with his fingers, searching for his lips— they were gone! Only teeth were left in their place. It didn't even matter! Wonwoo could just kiss him with his teeth.
“Wasn't it your wish to drink with them? Suffer, now,” said someone from Wonwoo's side. It had to be Joshua, only that it didn't sound like Joshua. But Joshua was the one next to his side when Wonwoo sat on the floor, so how come Joshua sounded like Jun just now? Ah, but who really cared? Wasn't it all just so ridiculous?
Wonwoo should kiss this Joshua, bearer of Jun's voice, too!
But he no longer had lips. Ah, well… What a ridiculous situation indeed!
“Mingyu said the manager was driving him home. Did he have something scheduled? Wasn't he supposed to be free today, too?”
“Someone fucked up some dates or something. They had to move some interview or something for today.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, the manager called Seuncheollie at ass o'clock this morning to let him know.”
“Poor Mingyu hyung!”
Oh, Wonwoo thought. He hadn't known about this. He thought Mingyu was out with his friends. Wonwoo had spent a great many hours today chiding Mingyu in his head for not contacting him, while Mingyu had a hard time.
Ah, but Wonwoo should really start doing something about this pride of his. He should've been the one to text Mingyu first, if the other hadn't had the time.
“What about Soonyoung hyung, then?”
There was a moment of complete silence, so Wonwoo lifted his head from where he was still searching his face for his lips, to look around at his members. The others were looking at Seokmin's side; not where Wonwoo was, but the other, where Soonyoung was sitting.
“I don't think you need to worry about him,” the Joshua imposter said. Soonyoung was curled on his side on the floor. His mouth was parted, blowing puffs of air through there, eyes closed. He was fast asleep.
See? Wonwoo was so much better than Soonyoung, what were the others even talking about? Wonwoo wasn't even feeling a little bit sleepy. He could still go on for days! He turned towards Joshua , feeling all of a sudden reinvigorated, with all the intentions to kiss him.
His thoughts didn't cooperate well with his actions, though. His head was a hive of activity, all buzzy with half-formed ideas and intense emotions, manifested in this desire to kiss the others cheeks because it was so much fun and so ridiculous!
But his body somehow lost the memo. Wonwoo felt heavy. A luggage filled to the brim with the ideas and the emotions and no notions of how to function his limbs properly.
Wonwoo moved to get a hold on the person next to him, only to end up tilting dangerously towards the floor. His mind said Oh, no! I'm falling. His body was too late to react.
The fall was faster than he thought it would be. The floor too, was immaterial, almost like it wasn't there at all. Like two hands holding onto his shoulders, reclining him into his former position. The fall didn't hurt, like he didn't even fall at all.
“Careful, will you?”
Oh, that's why! Wonwoo's fall didn't hurt because he didn't fall in the first place. And the hands holding him were not some metaphor; the hands were real. They were warm on his shoulders, the fingers tightened just enough so Wonwoo could stop from spinning on the spot.
There he is!
It should've unnerved Wonwoo that he didn't hear Mingyu coming. He couldn't believe he was so gone that Mingyu took him by surprise, for what had to be the first time in forever. Mingyu was so clumsy and loud, even his breathing was a dead giveaway for him. He couldn't imagine a more visible person than Mingyu, so how did he do that just now? How did he sneak up on him? It was so ridiculous! How much Wonwoo had to drink, really?
“Why?” Mingyu asked, bringing Wonwoo closer towards his chest. The position hurt a little one of Wonwoo's legs, that got caught up under him after he almost fell, but the pain was something so far away from his thoughts right now; no place for it when this aberration of mystic beauty was looking at him. “What are you smiling at?”
Wonwoo could've told him: because he didn't have lips anymore; because everything was so ridiculous, to the point of laughing. But to form words right that moment seemed a pointless act. Let the words lay inside him, let them live there. He didn't need them. He only had to focus entirely on seeing. Wasn't Mingyu explicitly beautiful? To the point of absurd? Wasn't he?
Sharp canines peeking from behind lush lips (maybe Mingyu will let Wonwoo borrow them for a moment, later), strands of lengthy styled hair getting in his eyes. Mingyu kept on saying he needed to cut it, too frustrated with brushing the tangles out every other morning. But wouldn't it be such a misery, if he'd do that? Wonwoo kind of liked tracing his fingers through Mingyu's hair, so healthy and strong.
Oh, Wonwoo knew Mingyu's hair was strong! Hadn't he pulled at it in some… very intense moments, without tearing out even a hair out of it? Hadn't he felt the silky strands, an anchor, then? A rope for him to pull at, while words of adoration were choked out of him, at the shrine of this obscene mad-man that made him shout and spill and…
Oh, Wonwoo felt kind of hot, suddenly. Kind of shy, too. With nowhere else to hide, he burrowed his head into Mingyu's chest (hard, firm, strong). One of Mingyu's hands creeped at his nape, slowly stroking at the back of his neck. Wonwoo felt a fleeting press of lips on the top of his head. He felt himself relaxing, calming down. His thoughts were finally voiceless, all was silent in his mind.
“How much did he have to drink?” Each word that left Mingyu's mouth rumbled in his chest first. Wonwoo pressed himself closer.
“Not more than a glass, I swear, I was watching him! He's just a lightweight, you know, Soonyoung's partner in crime.”
The chuckles from around the room were rude and uncalled for. Wonwoo should tell Seungcheol off— he wasn't even funny! Wonwoo needed to show him exactly where he should've shoved his false accusations.
════ ✧ ════
Reading Wonwoo's intentions, clearly written in the slow tensing of his body, Mingyu dropped his head to touch Wonwoo's forehead with his mouth a few times, until he felt Wonwoo placated in his arms again.
Mingyu didn't expect his night to end like this. When he'd left this morning, Wonwoo was asleep. To be telling the truth, Mingyu thought he'd find the other in bed still, actually. When he'd gotten the call from Minghao, telling him Wonwoo was drunk and to come collect him, he'd been a little confused.
Wonwoo rarely drank, unless Mingyu counted the cans of beer he had at dinners, now and then; but even with them, Wonwoo would always stop after a few sips, letting Mingyu finish the drinks.
Mingyu had an inkling of why Wonwoo ended up trying the hard liquor. Seungcheol had been wringing his hands since Mingyu came into the room, his eyes shifting away from him, evading to make eye contact with Mingyu.
His response was a clue as well. He'd probably teased him, and Wonwoo being Wonwoo, certain till the end that he was not something that he definitely was, had taken it too personally.
Jeonghan's grin only straightened his doubts.
Wonwoo shifted his head slightly on Mingyu's chest, mumbling something under his breath. Probably cursing Seungcheol.
“Should we go, then?”
Wonwoo's face was all flushed in pink undertones when he peered up at Mingyu. Unfocused eyes, big enough for Mingyu to see them licker in the dimmed light from the room, looked into his own.
His glasses were missing, as it seemed to be the routine these days, despite Mingyu's scoldings; Wonwoo's sight was just doomed at that point. He needed surgery or he'd end up living his life squinting at everything around him.
“Go?” Wonwoo startled frailly at hearing his voice. He probably hadn't done a lot of talking the whole time he was here. “To our place?”
Mingyu hummed. “Or you want to join Soonyoung hyung on the floor?”
Sluggishly, Wonwoo's eyes traded towards the place where Soonyoung was splattered on the floor. It happened more times than not, for Soonyoung to end up asleep after he drunk, so when Mingyu first came inside the room, he barely glimpsed towards the other. He'd leaped over him to reach Wonwoo in time, before the other would've become one with the floor himself.
Soonyoung's form hadn't moved at all. Seokmin and Chan were busy sticking grains of rice on his face. Seungwan was filming it happening. No one else batted an eye, like it was an occurring event, which might've been just so.
“'m not like Soonyoung.” Wonwoo's words were slurred. He was tipsy alright, Mingyu thought. “I can handle drinkin' jus' fine,” he said. Although, the way he was pouting the entire time, looking up at Mingyu with his sparkling eyes, the prettiest scrunch of nose adorning his face, Mingyu couldn't disagree more.
He wasn't going to tell Wonwoo all of it, though. Mingyu knew how Wonwoo could get when something didn't go his way— and it was when he was being clear-minded. Add alcohol to the equation, and Mingyu dare just try to oppose Wonwoo's assumptions. He would wound up dead somehow.
Wonwoo could make it look like an accident. Blame Mingyu's clumsiness on why he had a knife stuck in his chest. No one would blame Wonwoo, Mingyu thought.
‘That poor guy always banged his head on walls and slammed his body on closed doors. It would've been expected of him to end up like this’, they would say. ‘It couldn't be helped, no. That's just Mingyu for you.’
“Should we go?”
“‘m not sleepy, though.”
“I didn't say you were.”
They eased themselves up easily enough, with Mingyu holding most of Wonwoo, who was wobbling too much for Mingyu's liking.
“Let's get you some water first.”
“Oh, but did you know that there is— that the water is still the same amount on Earth as when the planet was first formed?”
“Is it so?”
With a quick ‘goodbye’ said to the rest of the room, Mingyu guided Wonwoo past the other side of the sofa, where there wasn't anyone sleeping, towards where the kitchen was. Wonwoo was holding tight onto Mingyu's arm with both his hands.
Mingyu didn't exactly like how he couldn't help but think that Wonwoo became so much cuter every time he had a little to drink. Needy, clingy, pouty. A babbling nerd.
“A cycle, you know?” Wonwoo went on, “A water cycle, all and all and all,” he moved his hand to make a looping circle. “And the water isn' going anywhere.”
Mingyu smiled to himself. This was not drunk Wonwoo. If he was this chatty, then some water should sober him up in no time.
Mingyu grabbed an empty glass from one of the cupboards, filling it with water. Wonwoo was blinking slowly, his eyes trained on Mingyu's movements; also, he had more to say about the water's nature.
“So, techn— technically, we drink the same water the dinoso— the dinos did.”
Mingyu chuckled. He didn't doubt Wonwoo's information, but it sounded a little silly. “Here's your dino flavoured water, then,” he said, “Make sure you drink it all, hyung.”
“There're molecules more like, act'lly, little part—”
“Of course, of course, now drink your molecules, would you?”
Wonwoo pouted at him; his nails dug admonishingly into Mingyu's skin, but he took little sips from the glass when Mingyu brought it to his lips, until it was almost empty.
A drop of water clung to Wonwoo's bottom lip. Mingyu put the glass into the sink, then lightly traced with his fingertip over the lip, until it was entirely moist.
Wownoo parted his lips in a quiet gasp. His teeth grazed Mingyu's fingertip with the motion.
“Lips,” he said.
“Lips?”
“They weren' there.”
I need to get him to sleep.
Although Mingyu didn't have the smallest clue on what the other was referring to, he nodded. “I'm sure they've always been there.” Mingyu would know; he would definitely know.
Wonwoo let out a disapproving sound.
Ah, Mingyu did what he just argued not to do.
“I'm tellin' you they weren't! I was tryin' to kiss Seokmin—or Shua hyung?” Wownoo said, his eyebrows dragged in the middle for only a moment, before he shaked his head, clearing his expression again. “I didn' have lips to kiss them.”
“So you were going around here, kissing everyone, you Kiss Monster?” Mingyu (not so) jokingly asked. Whatever; he wasn't going to get jealous over it. He wasn't that pitiful.
Only that Mingyu had spent the entire day without seeing Wonwoo, caught in between last-minute schedules, too busy to even meet his friends today, as he was supposed to.
And it wasn't like Mingyu couldn't go without seeing Wonwoo for a day; he wasn't dependent on Wonwoo. It wasn't like that, no.
It was just that, Mingyu really cared about Wonwoo, you see? And he was still struggling, still thinking that his maddening hunger for the other's touch, attention, time, anything (whatever Wonwoo wanted); his expectedness for more (everything, give it all to me), would drive Wonwoo away, sooner than later.
When he'd cling too much, arms spiralling out like tentacles to hold closer; when he'd talk too much, words shedding out of him on the peak of a nervous breakdown— Mingyu feared that that would be Wonwoo's turning point.
What they had was still new, still blooming, taking shape, becoming solid. No matter how much Wonwoo gave him, there were times when Mingyu yearned for more. His insecurities would taunt him, mocking him about how Wonwoo could do better; how Wonwoo deserved better.
Not someone that got jealous at the mere mention of Wonwoo showing affection to his friends. Not someone like Mingyu.
Wonwoo hadn't given up on Mingyu, though. No yet. Maybe he'd never do. Or maybe he'd do. Maybe Mingyu's need for assurance would become too much. Mingyu wasn't…
Well, anyway, it had been a long day for him. A minor confusion made Mingyu's supposedly free day an entire mess. When he only wanted to meet his friends for a few hours and come back home to rest (maybe watch a movie with Wonwoo, maybe have a drink together), he got petty directors to meet and unprofessional staff to entertain. Whatever, Mingyu just needed to sleep it off. He'll be alright in the morning.
“Let's go upstairs, okay?”
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“Mingyu.”
…
“Mingyu, are you awake?”
Mingyu faked a snore. Wonwoo slapped his hand.
They were both in bed. The same bed. Cuddling. Mingyu coiled around Wonwoo's body, holding him.
After Mingyu had walked them to their apartment, Wonwoo had been left on his own while Mingyu took a shower. So he brushed his teeth, washed his face, changed his clothes, drank another glass with water, then tossed and turned inside the sheets for more than ten minutes before Mingyu finally joined him.
It was late. After three in the morning, the clock indicated the last time Wonwoo looked at it. It had to be four by now. So they should be asleep.
They had a busy schedule tomorrow. Not really early in the morning, but they still should be resting.
Wonwoo couldn't fall asleep.
The haze from his brain had mostly gone after he drank those glasses with water. Now he only felt a little dizzy, a little jumpy, too. Not really ready to sleep.
He turned inside Mingyu's arms until he was facing him. The little smile playing on Mingyu's lips was clue enough that he wasn't asleep yet, even though his eyes were closed.
“Mingyu,” he whispered once more, slowly closing the small distance between them, until he was all in the other's space.
Mingyu opened one eye, peeked at Wonwoo; he shut his eyes tight, ducking his head to hide his smile from Wownoo. “I'm asleep, hyung.”
Wonwoo clicked his tongue. “You're not. You just talked with me.”
Mingyu breathed out an amused puff of air, before he finally faced Wonwoo. “Can't sleep?”
Wonwoo nodded. “How was your day?” He remembered someone talking about how Mingyu had to work today (was it Jeonghan? Wonwoo couldn't recall certainly), even if today was supposed to be their free day.
“It was—” Mingyu paused; he took a deep breath. “Pretty shitty. Someone messed up the schedule and I had to cancel my plans. The people were rude. They looked at me like it was my fault that their boss told them at the last minute that they needed to come to work.”
“I'm sorry!”
Mingyu gently laughed. “It wasn't your fault, what are you sorry for?”
Wonwoo ducked his head until his cheek was on Mingyu's collarbone. He pressed his lips on the skin found there.
Wonwoo didn't know Mingyu's day had been so awful. He thought Mingyu was too busy with his friends, for him to text Wonwoo. He had lectured the Mingyu from his mind, had scolded and punished him.
He wanted now to make him feel better. His dizzy brain had landed on the ideal solution without much thought.
Wonwoo shifted on the bed, forcing Mingyu to move until he was on his back, half of Wonwoo's body on top of him. He put his leg between Mingyu's, his head on his chest, his hand under Mingyu's shirt.
Mingyu was warm. He often joked that he was Wonwoo's heat source in the cold nights. Wonwoo couldn't disagree.
Even before they decided to put a name to their relationship, they used to spend their nights holding each other. Since their trainee's days Wonwoo had reached for Mingyu on the wintery days, on the rainy nights. While Wonwoo had always run rather cold, Mingyu was all warmth: something blazing and inviting.
Wonwoo wanted to wear him like a blanket. He'd think it to be too cringe, the stuff that he thought just then, if he was aware of what he was thinking at the moment. But he was distracted.
Mingyu's hand was on his waist, his finger drawing shapeless lines over his t-shirt. A shiver passed through him when Mingyu's fingertip grazed his skin.
“Alright?”
Wonwoo didn't respond. He still felt a little tipsy, even though he wasn't anymore. A little giddy.
He wanted to press closer. He wanted to feel Mingyu all over him.
Wonwoo touched his lips to Mingyu's chest, dampening the t-shirt he was wearing with his breath. Slowly, he moved further up, until he found skin. He sensed Mingyu shifting in place, his chest raising faster with every inhale he breathed, his hand clamping down on Wonwoo's waist.
He didn't stop Wonwoo, though. He squirmed and breathed, he swallowed loudly with every kiss Wonwoo pressed over his neck, but didn't stop Wonwoo. Mingyu let him drag his lips all over his neck, let Wonwoo write on his skin his apologies; spill there what he was still struggling with to say aloud. Confessions. Wishes. Lips-shaped hieroglyphs for Mingyu to translate.
“No teeth,” Mingyu warned, when Wonwoo pulled gently with his teeth at the fresh wet skin on Mingyu's neck. Mingyu put his hand on Wonwoo's chin, halting his moves. “We're filming tomorrow.”
Wonwoo turned his head a little. Bit at Mingyu's thumb.
“I'll be careful,” he said, even though he knew he wouldn't (I'll blame it on the alcohol), before diving once more into the heat of his lover.
════ ✧ ════
The day after. Some time after 10 A.M.
As expected, Wonwoo hadn't been careful.
“I did it to you,” he more affirmed than asked, sitting in front of Mingyu, his hand outstretched to touch.
When Mingyu had looked in the mirror when he woke up, he wasn't exactly surprised to see the red marks stamped on his skin. Wonwoo was a biter; he had expected it.
Mingyu felt Wonwoo pressing with his fingertip on a blooming bruise. He saw his eyes sparkling, the possessive little shit, clearly proud of the mess he made of Mingyu's skin. Involuntarily or not, Wonwoo breathed a puff of air on his already sensible neck. Mingyu didn't try to suppress the shiver that passed through him, volts of electricity tracing his body, like he was an outlet of some kind.
The motion didn't go unnoticed. So the next time he felt the cool breath on his skin, Mingyu knew it was intentional.
He opened his mouth in a mute gasp, his finger curling harder on Wonwoo's waist. Wonwoo let out an airy chuckle.
Mingyu tried to keep his eyes closed, while Wonwoo got invested in his new little game of making Mingyu squirm, but the sensations were only just being amplified this way.
So he opened them again. Only to see the smugiest expression on Wonwoo's face. Eyes sharp and trained on Mingyu's, lips barely curled at the seams, with the little show of white teeth (last night's weapon) peeking through.
“How am I supposed to cover these?” Mingyu breathlessly asked.
“Make-up?”
Mingyu clicked his tongue.
“Alright, alright. I have just the thing.” Wonwoo moved in the room towards his wardrobe, digging through clothes, messing them up. Not like they were arranged in the first place.
“Aha,” he exclaimed after some time, coming at Mingyu's side. He was busy looking in the little mirror he had in the room to look at the other.
At least Wonwoo had tried not to stain all of Mingyu's neck. His chest hadn't been given the same treatment. What did that say about Mingyu, then, when he wasn't in the least dissatisfied with last night's aftermath? Probably that they deserved each other? Mingyu liked that even more.
“This will do.” Wonwoo flaunted two white turtlenecks in his face like they were something to be proud about.
“Seriously?”
“Come on, we're gonna match.”
Mingyu traced his palm over his face, hiding away his smile. He liked that too.
Mingyu didn't put up much of a fight when Wonwoo reached to drag the cold material over his head. It smelled of Wonwoo's detergent.
“This is your fault,” he said just for the sake of saying it.
Wonwoo didn't grace that with an answer. He just took Mingyu's face between his cold palms and kissed him on the lips.
════ ✧ ════
The next day still. Some time after 12 P.M.
“Oh, look, we're matching! Jeonghan hyung, there are others who're wearing turtlenecks!”
“Why the fuck are you shouting at this hour for?”
“Come on, Jihoonie! It's well in the afternoon.”
“Why are you so alive? You slept on the floor last night!”
════ ✧ ════
On a Wednesday night. Roughly around 9:30 P.M.
“Maybe I should've put on some make-up.”
On the phone screen, Mingyu's red marks are peeking from under his white turtleneck.
“Yeah, maybe you should've.”
“It's still your fault.”
“It's Seokmin's, actually.”
“Oh, don't even start—”
“But just think about it! He texted me, then he got me drunk— well not him… It's Jeonghan's fault, too, because he—” Mingyu shut him up by feeding him another dumpling.