Archive of Our Own

A persistent throb against Yeosang's skull is what finally wakes him.

That, and the gleaming beams of sun shining through the edges of his blackout curtains. It's not enough to brighten the complete darkness of his room, but enough to cause a contrast and keep his eyes squinted. He closes them in with a pained groan, turning over to search for his phone.

A careless hand searches the nightstand beside Yeosang's bed, bumping into everything except the small device. The crashing of a bottle of something landing against his hardwood floor is enough for the throbbing to twinge even more. Finally, Yeosang's hand lands on his phone, and he's faced with instant regret as the screen brightens to life just before his eyes.

There's a static filling his ears as his eyes work to adjust to the sudden source of light, muscles twitching to lock shut in an attempt to diminish the disturbance.

It takes maybe a minute, or five, for Yeosang to finally keep his eyes open enough to stare at the screen in his hand—and it's only then he nearly drops it on his face.

09:27, the time on his phone reveals.

Suddenly, the arm draped over his bare waist beneath the comforter becomes a leaded weight, trapping him in place.

Normally, Yeosang wouldn't care about the time—especially when it's his day off—but as the familiarity of the situation sets in, that's all he can care about. If this were a regular day, he'd put his phone back down and gladly surrender against his pillow once more. Yet, that's furthest from what can happen.

"Shit," Yeosang curses as he rips the blanket off of him, feeling the rush of cold air blast against his now-exposed skin.

Beside him, the person continues to sleep peacefully, completely undisturbed to the reality of this situation. Yeosang doesn't even take the time to admire the other's natural state of being as he pries the arm off of him, watching it curl back into the owner's own body. He frees himself from the prison that is his own bed, and frantically searches amongst the clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor. Yeosang's own clothes are mixed in here somewhere, but it's difficult to distinguish without proper lighting.

As Yeosang picks up a pair of sweatpants he's certain belong to him, the sound of his comforter rustling catches his attention. He glances over, stumbling to keep his balance as a leg goes through one pant leg.

"Mingi-ya," He calls out in a hushed voice, stuffing his other leg into the second pant leg. "We overslept, you have to get up."

Yet, Mingi simply lays there, not acknowledging Yeosang in the slightest. If anything, he curls further in on himself, burrowing deeper underneath the blanket to make up for the lack of warmth now.

A groan falls from Yeosang's lips as he picks up a shirt and throws it over his torso, not even caring if it's his own. He needs to get Mingi up and out before Yunho wakes up and catches them.

Normally, he wouldn't be in such a rush, but they've never slept in this late before after spending the night together. Usually, it's still before dawn when either of them wakes up to make the walk-of-shame back to their respective dorm. Though, nine out of ten times, it's Mingi making the walk back, because it's less risky to be caught by one of their members, as opposed to two.

"Mingi." Yeosang's voice is more stern as he approaches the bed this time, fully prepared to rip the comforter off of the man. Instead, he's met with a groan and Mingi shifting onto his back, eyes slowly blinking open.

"I heard you, give me a minute…" Mingi croaks, his voice laced thickly with sleep.

"We don't have a minute." Yeosang stands there and looks down at the man still in his bed. If this were any other time, he'd be less impassive about Mingi's clear exhaustion, but it's already so late in the morning.

While he's sure Yunho is still sound asleep down the hall, Yeosang is sure Mingi's roommates are probably awake by now, and well aware of his absence. He's doing this for the sake of Mingi to have some dignity—not because Yeosang is ashamed. Surely not.

Turning back around with a huff, Yeosang gathers the other clothes on the floor, piling them into his arms while Mingi finally makes the effort to sit up. The blanket falling with gravity and pooling just over his groin.

"Here, I think these are yours." Yeosang drops the pile of clothes onto Mingi's lap unforgivably. Yet, when the other makes no clear movement to get up, Yeosang continues to grow frustrated. "Come on, you have to get back before San and Seonghwa notice."

He watches as Mingi stares down at the pile of clothes. Then, he looks up at Yeosang, brows furrowed.

"You have my shirt," Mingi finally says, eyes studying the comically oversized shirt Yeosang is drowning in. There's something hidden within his pupils, but Yeosang can't decipher it with how dark it is in his room still.

"Oh my God," He huffs, making the movement to take his shirt off and give it to Mingi. Since it's such a big deal. "Here. Now would you please hurry, we don't—"

"We don't need to rush, Yeosang-ah, they already know." Mingi cuts him off, finally bringing the shirt up and over his head.

Yeosang's heart plummets as the words register in his mind. Every ounce of blood running cold in his veins.

"What?"

Not realizing the impact of his words, Mingi sits there for a minute before it dawns on him.

"That I'm sleeping with someone," He corrects himself, hands reaching out for Yeosang that stands frozen in fear. "Shit, sorry—I didn't mean they know it's you. Just that I'm—yeah."

The clarification should calm him down, but the initial shock is still riding the waves through Yeosang's system. Bringing him enough turmoil to last him the rest of the morning—at least.

"They don't know it's you, Yeosang-ah." Mingi's hands found Yeosang's after the other still remains rooted to the floor.

It's not that he's ashamed of this—really.

It's just, the last thing Yeosang wants is any of the other members finding out and having to explain everything. How it began, what it means, that it's not going to cause any issues for the group, and so on. He doesn't want it to become a problem if that's the furthest from what this is.

"Okay," Yeosang finally breathes out.

The way Mingi's hands encase his own keep him grounded, reeling him back in from the deep-end. Supplying an amount of warmth enough to replicate the way Mingi's arm hung over his waist not too long ago.

A thud from outside Yeosang's room disturbs their moment, and the comfort Yeosang felt for just a moment is rapidly replaced with fear. Though, at least he's not the only one who feels it this time, for Mingi's expression mimics his own.

"Was that—"

"He's usually never up around this time." Yeosang cuts off Mingi's question with his own separate thought. "Wait here, I'll go see."

When Yeosang steps out of the safety of his own bedroom, heart stammering against his chest, he carefully trails down the hall. Passing by Yunho's bedroom, he sees the door wide open, and no sign of containing his roommate.

Great, he thinks to himself as he continues on.

This is the most careless Yeosang has been since his and Mingi's arrangement started all those months ago. It's a miracle neither of them have faced this predicament any sooner, considering they're both heavy sleepers. Somehow, by the grace of whatever higher being exists, one or the other has managed to wake up in time to sneak back to their own dorm. Evading any chance of being caught.

Or at least that's what Yeosang thought until Mingi let it slip that San and Seonghwa know he's been meeting up with someone.

Yeosang thought they had been careful enough, and he supposes they still have, especially if the other two aren't lucky enough to know who Mingi has been sleeping with. Though, not like they would care anyway. It's not his business. In the back of his head, Yeosang can hear Seonghwa telling Mingi to be careful, though.

If only the eldest of the group knew.

There's really no other sign of life in the dorm until Yeosang rounds the corner to the kitchen and is faced with the backside of Yunho's broad, bare shoulders. The man seems occupied with the microwave, probably heating up one of the pre-made frozen meals they have stashed away. Now could be his chance to sneak Mingi out, but that would put faith in Mingi being dressed in the time Yeosang stepped away. They'd have to act quick enough, and considering how clumsy the two of them are—speaking from several acts of experience—it would go as smoothly as one could imagine.

Before he has the chance to retreat back to his room and sneak Mingi out, the microwave beeps, and Yunho turns around with the meal in his hand barely a few seconds later. Giving Yeosang absolutely no time to hide.

"Oh!" Yunho nearly drops the plate when he spots his roommate standing ominously behind him. "You scared me—I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Ah, no, I've been awake—and sorry, I heard a noise and wanted to make sure no one was breaking in, or something." Yeosang lets out a dry chuckle from—he racks through the emotions whirling around in his head right now—embarrassment. "Well, I'll uh—I'll let you eat. I'm gonna…"

He makes an awkward gesture with his thumb out, pointing it towards the direction his room is in. Looking for any way to escape from this nightmare.

"Are you hungry?" Yunho asks, lips forming into a small pout. "I can heat you up something too, real quick. We can eat together?"

If this were any other day, one where Mingi is hiding out in his room, Yeosang might have said yes. Though, since it's not just any other day, he has to decline. Of course, as nonchalantly as possible, so he doesn't raise any of Yunho's suspicions.

"Oh, I'm not—that's okay. Thank you, though, Yunho-ya. I think—I think I'm gonna lay back down for a little. I'm still kinda sleepy." Yeosang declines as politely as he can, and even goes as far as to faking a yawn. The stretching of his muscles is real, though—Mingi didn't go easy on him last night, leaving him more sore than usual. Probably why he slept so long afterwards.

Before Yunho can even respond, Yeosang books it back to his room, scurrying down the hall on his bare feet.

What he doesn't expect as soon as he crosses the threshold of his room, pressing his back firmly against the now closed door, is to be met with an otherwise empty, and still dark, room. No sign that Mingi was ever here, except for the throws of his bedding in a state of disarray. Not even a single sock remains on the floor.

Right on queue, Yeosang's phone chimes from where it lays haphazardly on his bed after he dropped it in a panic not too long ago.

Mingi

Managed to sneak out while you were chatting with Yunho

See you at practice, Yeosang-ah

Relief should wash over him right away, but it doesn't until he rereads the messages at least five more times.

This was close, and Yeosang doesn't know how he would have handled it if Yunho had actually caught them this time.

· · ──────⩇⩇:⩇⩇────── · ·

Yeosang wishes he has six bodies.

Even then, that still might not be enough.

Between preparing for the comeback, the upcoming Asian tour dates, and other schedules, Yeosang simply feels as though he's running thin. Each year it gets more and more intense, yet he still manages to pull through, miraculously.

Right now, he's beginning to wonder if that'll be the case this year. And it's only just begun.

With his back pressed against the floor of the practice room, Yeosang can feel his sweat-soaked shirt cling to every part of his skin underneath. Everyday is like this. They go for hours, eventually take a break, and resume for another several hours. It's never ending, and Yeosang is convinced his body is going to give way at some point. If not now, then soon.

Yet, he doesn't have even a breath to spare for that to happen.

As long as he keeps moving, his body can't give way. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Things between him and Mingi have been on pause because of this. Surely. It's merely a coincidence the last time they got together was the same day they overslept and Yeosang panicked far more than he should have.

Of course, Mingi has reached out, stirring the pot, but some nights Yeosang was already sound asleep. Completely drained from practice or whatever other schedule they had. He's already struggling to keep up with everything, the last thing on his mind is having to make time to meet Mingi at some point. Sure, it might be beneficial for him, maybe lessen some of the stress knotted deeply into his muscles, but he can't sacrifice any more of his time.

Yeosang sits up, feeling the way his shirt peels off of his skin, sticking to the floor momentarily before clinging right onto his back again. It's disgusting. He chugs the remainder of the water bottle that's been in his hand this entire time. Getting up, Yeosang crushes it between his hands and disposes of it in the trash can in the back.

There's still a bit of a break before practice resumes, so Yeosang takes this time to head to the bathroom. Empty his bladder, wipe as much sweat off as possible, make himself seem decent. Even if there's no cameras, and it's only his members and the dance crew they always work with, Yeosang still has an image to uphold.

With the flush of the urinal, Yeosang tucks himself back into his sweatpants, and nearly defecates himself from the sight of Mingi standing up against the sink counter when he turns around. He hadn't even heard the door open. How long has he been standing there?

"Jesus, Mingi. You scared the shit out of me." Yeosang clutches at his chest genuinely. The other doesn't say anything, but instead his eyes follow Yeosang who approaches the sink to wash his hands.

"You're avoiding me," Mingi says pointedly. His body turning to face Yeosang, arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the counter with his hip digging into the surface.

Yeosang splashes the water on his face, like he intended. Allowing the pads of his fingertips to wipe any bit of sweat that still clings to his skin. He keeps his hands pressed firmly against his face, inhaling sharply from Mingi's comment. Dropping them down to the sink a moment later. "I'm not ignoring you. We've been busy, and I've been tired. I don't have your crazy stamina, remember?"

It's true. The amount of times they've been together is greater than all the fingers Yeosang has on both of his hands, and by the end of each night, he's pleasantly spent. In more ways than one, of course. Yet, Mingi never seems to be nearly as exhausted as him. At least in this specific situation. When it comes to concerts, practice, or anything else of the like, Mingi enters his don't touch me phase. Yeosang learned the hard way. Though, he still got what he wanted in the end, even if he had to beg for it.

"I don't know if I believe you." Mingi continues staring straight ahead at Yeosang's side profile, leaning forward ever so slightly to call his bluff. "One of us being exhausted has never stopped us before. If it's about what happened last time—"

"It isn't." Yeosang finally turns, to face Mingi. He looks up at Mingi's eyes, facing an expression on the man's face he hasn't seen in a while—concern.

"Come over tonight?"

Every ounce within Yeosang is burning to decline—come up with some excuse, but deep down, he knows that's not what he wants. There's nothing he desires more than to feel Mingi's hands all over him, touching him in every spot they learned about together. Especially after almost a grueling month of nothing. Between being exhausted and having no time, Yeosang has not even been able to touch himself. Unable to imagine his hands as Mingi's like he usually does in between the times they wind up in bed together.

"San and Seonghwa are going out after practice, so you don't have to worry about them," Mingi says while Yeosang is still weighing his options. As if he could read the worries piling up behind Yeosang's forehead. Then, he reaches out, tucking one of the dampened strands away from the other's face. "Please? I missed you, Yeosang-ah."

A shiver travels down Yeosang's spine, starting at the point where Mingi's palm rests on the center of his cheek and those long, ragged fingers trail into his hair.

It's the little things like that where Yeosang remembers just how all of this started. How it started off seemingly innocent, and blossomed into something so much more, so quickly. Snowballing into something he could never get enough of, and as it seems, neither could Mingi.

"Okay, yeah," Yeosang exhales. Allowing himself to melt into the palm of Mingi's hand after quite some time. Relishing in the warmth it brings about to his now cooled-off skin. "I missed you too."

Practice continues on not too long after he returns to the bathroom first, Mingi trailing in a few minutes afterwards.

Even though his joints, muscles, and every other part of Yeosang ache throughout the second half of practice, there's determination leading him on. That at the end of it, he'll be rewarded with a rather promising night. At every practice, Yeosang always works his hardest, but tonight is different. He nails every move without fail—not that he hasn't before—and every run through is damn-near perfect. Earning praise from Yunho that's leading tonight's practice.

It feels great, yet somehow, a knot forms in Yeosang's gut by the end of it.

Over the past few weeks, Yeosang has always caught Mingi's eye through the mirror in front of them, and while he's never been one to shy-away from the glares previously, he did during that time frame. Guilt eating him alive every time.

Yet, tonight he reciprocates the glances back. Allowing himself to fall into the familiar routine after all this time, even if told himself he shouldn't anymore. Enjoying the way Mingi reacts subtly to Yeosang's meager efforts at stirring the pot.

It feels wrong, to have been intentionally avoiding Mingi, all while using exhaustion and lack of time as an excuse.

Now, the turmoil that had been piling up in his mind after the whole sleeping-in debacle, seems to be a distant memory, rather than a lesson to learn from. Pretending as if it wasn't eating him alive every time Mingi came close to cornering him, only to escape in the end and ignore his incoming texts until morning came.

What started off as an innocent crush on the man, knowing nothing could ever happen, spiraled completely out of his control way too rapidly. It was supposed to be something to keep him motivated, but as soon as Mingi reciprocated it a handful of months ago, Yeosang knew he was done for. That there was no coming back from it, and every little moment between them is tainted.

It's always been casual, a way for them to burn off excess energy, stress, and anything else of the like. Though, for Yeosang, he knew it would never be casual. No matter how many times he lied to himself, and tried not to grow more and more attached every time they danced the familiar tango, gasping out Mingi's name as he finally came to. Every time he promised himself it'd be the last, yet Mingi just always knows how to lure him in. Pushing all the right buttons in just the right order.

So maybe he was really hoping this month-long break between their hook-ups would finally settle the turmoil, but seeing the softened expression on Mingi's face in the bathroom earlier completely erased every ounce of not-so-wishful thinking he had.

How many more times will this happen until Yeosang's heart ends up broken?

He rather not think about it as he heads back to his dorm to shower before heading over to Mingi's later. Once he gets the clear that San and Seonghwa have vacated.

Sometimes, Yeosang can't fathom how Mingi has put up with their arrangement for this long. Especially when he's added stipulation after stipulation almost each time they meet up like this. The members cannot find out, no leaving any marks in visible places, no staying over into the morning, et cetera. All of them created in hopes that Mingi would get fed up and call it all off, but no, he just agrees with it and respects Yeosang's wishes.

When Yeosang arrives at his dorm, Yunho showered, and reheating leftovers from the other night. He wordlessly drops his bag into his room, heading directly into the shower right after. There's no point in wasting any time. Especially when Yeosang has no idea how long San and Seonghwa will be out for. If him and Mingi will have an entirely empty apartment to themselves, he needs to make the most of it.

Normally, he'll take his time with his skin-care routine afterwards, but tonight, Yeosang flies through it. Hoping all the serums he applies have enough time to soak into his skin in between applying them. In any minute, Mingi is going to text him that the other two left, and he needs to hurry down to the other floor in their building.

And of course, as soon as the text comes through, Yeosang does just that.

He's sitting anxiously on the edge of his bed, watching a random video on YouTube when the notification appears at the top half of his screen. Reading the words only once before Yeosang springs off of his bed, and makes his way out of the bedroom. Shutting off the light and closing the door softly behind him.

Completely unaware to his surroundings, Yeosang somehow misses Yunho still sitting on the couch, playing some Spiderman game on the television. "Whoa, you're going out?"

With his hand on the wall for support, and the other halfway at putting a shoe on his foot, Yeosang freezes. Slowly, he cranes his neck to look over his shoulder, meeting Yunho's gaze. It quickly drops to somewhere on the floor between them.

"Oh, uh—yeah." Yeosang manages to get his shoe on and lets his leg fall back towards the floor. "I'm getting dinner with San, Seonghwa, and Mingi. They asked me at practice earlier."

During the drive back to his dorm, in the shower, and even while he was getting ready, Yeosang put his brain to work in coming up with an excuse in case this exact scenario played out. It's rather fool-proof, especially because San and Seonghwa are getting dinner—at least according to what Mingi told him—but Yunho doesn't necessarily need to know that him and Mingi won't be attending.

It practically covers all of his bases.

As long as it doesn't get brought up later, there's no way this could backfire on Yeosang.

Yunho doesn't say anything for a minute, mouth falling agape before closing into something of a pout.

"Well," Yunho finally says, eyes unable to find Yeosang's again afterwards, focusing back on his game instead. "Don't stay out too late. We have an early practice tomorrow, again."

As if he could forget. Another reason why he's in such a hurry to get to Mingi's dorm as soon as possible. It's still relatively early—before ten at night—and their practice doesn't start until ten in the morning. More than enough time for some fun, and a decent amount of sleep. The only issue Yeosang feels straining on his mind is whether or not his muscles will hold up after back-to-back torture like this.

"Yeah, I won't be out too late."

The elevator ride down to Mingi's dorm has never felt so long.

He hasn't had to make this trip too many times, since a majority of their meetups are at Yeosang's dorm, but in the moment, he's imagining this must be how Mingi feels every time.

The numbers go down slowly but surely, and eventually the elevator doors open with a mechanical groan. Yeosang shoots out of the contraption before the doors are fully open, and thankfully there's no one on the other side waiting.

In moments like this, Yeosang is rather glad they all live on different floors. It makes this situation less stressful as he doesn't need to keep an eye out for other members stepping out of their own dorm.

As soon as the lock on the door chimes with the correct passcode being entered, Yeosang steps into the dorm with a weighted breath in his lungs.

He kicks his shoes off, eyeing into the living room and seeing the light has been left on, but no sign of Mingi. At least, not until he ventures further into the dorm and sees the man standing in the kitchen right around the corner. Standing in front of the stove-top, focused entirely on the pan on the burner.

"Mingi-ya?" Yeosang calls out, tilting his head in confusion.

It's then that Mingi looks over, his previously focused expression melting into smile upon seeing Yeosang approaching him.

"What's all this?" Yeosang asks, motioning a hand towards the pan on the stove, and the several dirty dishes littering the nearby counter tops.

This certainly isn't what he was expecting to walk into tonight, that's for sure.

"I wanted to cook for us. We had a long practice, and it's been a while since we had the whole dorm to ourselves." Mingi bashfully looks away, moving to stir the contents of the pan around with the wooden spoon in his hand.

Yeosang sucks in a sharp breath.

It's exactly moments like this where the line between their relationship begins to blur, and the strings on Yeosang's heart are toyed with like ones on a guitar. Two people casually hooking up every so often don't cook for each other, and they certainly don't mention missing the other person. At least based on anything Yeosang has ever heard about the whole friends-with-benefits ordeal. The only benefit is nine out of ten times sex. Not domestic couple-like activities.

"They aren't going to be gone that long, though, are they?" Yeosang risks questioning, not wanting Mingi to take anything the wrong way.

As much as he wants Mingi in a way that's more than just casual sex, that's all this has ever been defined as. To suddenly push the boundaries another step further with not many other signs beforehand is rather startling, Yeosang finds.

"So about that…" Mingi begins, keeping his gaze away from Yeosang at first, his cheeks turning a shade of pink Yeosang always adores. "I told them I'm having someone over, so if they could stay out a bit later. I didn't tell them who, though. I promise."

His gaze finally lands on Yeosang's, and Yeosang doesn't know how to interpret it.

The harshness from the overhead kitchen lighting is never kind on anyone's features, but somehow, it paints Mingi's with the most delicate strokes. With his softening expression, eyes crinkling into slight crescents as a gleeful grin splits across the lower half of his face.

All of the warning bells, alarms and whistles are sounding in his brain, only for him to hear. Yet he ignores them all.

Instead of responding verbally, Yeosang does what he knows how to do best.

The gap between them was already minimal, but in the few steps Yeosang has to take to finally cross into Mingi's space, he feels a pair of large, sturdy hands fall at the cusp of where his waist meets his hips. At the same time his own hands find purchase on either side of Mingi's jaw, cupping the man's face contently between his palms.

As cliche as it sounds, their whole ordeal started off exactly just like this. With a kiss.

Although, it certainly wasn't as coordinated.

After a long day of practice, and Mingi watching Yeosang repeat the same moves over and over again, something between them sparked enough to end with them sharing the heated, passionate kiss, alone, in the middle of the practice room that started it all. Clumsy hands over sweaty bodies, tongues licking into each others mouths, lips placing kisses in areas where neither have gone before—at least with each other.

If anything, after spending so much time apart—probably the longest they've gone since this all started—Yeosang expected their reuniting kiss to be much like the first time.

Instead, they take their time. Lips slotting against one another fluidly, neither of them fighting for the reigns to be in control. Yeosang feels the hands on his waist tighten their grip and he presses himself further against Mingi, back naturally arching to make up for the slight height difference between them.

Everything about it feels oh so right—like this is how they belong together.

If Yeosang could, he would freeze time so it could only be like this. Just them. No other worries or obligations plaguing Yeosang's mind. No fears of the other members finding out, or even the rest of the world. None of that nonsense.

Though, that's never the case, and time continues on.

Mingi is the first to pull away, breaking the kiss with a cheesy smile on his lips as Yeosang chases after him, moving to stand on his tippy-toes for better access. A noise of discontent escapes from Yeosang's throat when Mingi only keeps pushing himself further back. The smile growing wider and wider as Yeosang's pout becomes more evident.

"You can have dessert after dinner," Mingi says, placing a chaste kiss on Yeosang's lips. "Now, go sit, I'll be done in just a minute."

The hands leave Yeosang's waist and gently push him away towards the living room. It's not a far distance between the two rooms at all, but Yeosang still sulks as he plops down on the couch. Rather than turning the television on, he pulls his phone out to continue watching the video from earlier. The one he was watching while anxiously waiting for Mingi to text him that the coast is clear.

Ever since he entered the dorm, the smell of food wafted into his nose, but he had just assume Mingi was heating up a premade meal. Not cooking something from scratch for the two of them. As soon as he stumbled upon the sight, something stirred in Yeosang. Something he knew will only further cement the worries piling up in his mind. Yet, as soon as Mingi placed his lips on Yeosang's, the thought of them easily slipped to the back of his mind.

"Bon appétit." Mingi comes over not too much longer, placing two plates down on the coffee table in front of them.

Yeosang can't even think the last time he properly ate today, maybe earlier in the morning before he headed off to practice. Even with the small breaks in between, he didn't eat more than a small protein bar in hopes to hold him over. Now that there's proper food in front of him, Yeosang feels his stomach growl in anticipation. Eager to dig right in even though Mingi is still grabbing utensils and drinks from the kitchen.

"You really didn't have to do all of this, Mingi-ya," Yeosang says once the other finally sits down beside him, their thighs pressing together from the proximity.

"I know, but I wanted to."

Once again, it's when Mingi says things like that where Yeosang's optimism tenfolds, and maybe the other feels the same way. That Yeosang isn't the only one who struggles with labeling this whole thing as casual over and over again.

Even then, if Mingi felt the same way, Yeosang rather things stay the same, or end entirely. It'd be much easier to deal with a heartbreak than navigate a possible relationship given their circumstances.

Not that Yeosang has thought about it all that much—only when he doesn't fall asleep afterwards and Mingi sleeps soundly beside him.

At first, Yeosang took heaping bites from the plate in front of him. Shoveling larger amounts into his mouth, as if it's his last meal on Earth. He's always loved Mingi's cooking, without a doubt. Savoring every bite, making sure the flavors never escape too suddenly.

Though, as they fall to a comfortable silence, only the sounds of them eating filling the room, Yeosang falls victim to his thoughts once more. Coming to a slow on his intake, not even from physically feeling full, no. With the way he's been eating so poorly lately, Yeosang should have no problem clearing the plate. Yet, when his mind swirls, by association, it fills up his stomach as well. Preventing him from eating even another bite.

"Everything okay?" Mingi asks, swallowing down the bit of food in his mouth. "You're more quiet than usual, tonight."

"I'm fine, I just—I haven't had a minute to sit down like this in weeks. It's nice," Yeosang admits. The chopsticks in his hands haven't picked anything up in a minute, pushing the food on his plate around instead. Hopefully Mingi hasn't noticed.

It seems he hasn't, based on the way he keeps his focus down on his plate, clearing it within the next minute or so. Yeosang forces himself to take a few more bites, feigning a smile when Mingi eventually gets up and offers to clean up real quick.

"At least let me help with the dishes, you cooked everything." Yeosang follows him to the kitchen, attempting to grab a plate from Mingi's grasp, but failing in the end.

When Mingi sets the plate in the sink, Yeosang lets out a gasp as a pair of hands quickly land on his rear seconds later, hoisting him up onto the countertop. They move to settle on his waist right after, kneading into the muscles that have softened from lack of training. Naturally, Yeosang's legs fall open as Mingi slots himself perfectly into the space. Crowding in on the other with nothing less than a smirk on his face.

"Washing dishes is the last thing on my mind right now, Yeosang-ssi." Mingi's voice is naturally deep, but when he drops it an octave lower, speaking in a hushed tone, Yeosang can't help but squirm underneath of his hold.

"Then what's the first?" Yeosang asks, already knowing the answer. He feels like the oxygen has been knocked from his lungs, with the way his breaths are falling rather heavily now.

Mingi doesn't need to respond verbally, and they both know that.

So, when he finally surges forward, taking Yeosang's lips with his own, it's all the confirmation Yeosang needed.

Allowing his jaw to fall slack, Yeosang lets Mingi take all the control for now. His hands come up to tangle within Mingi's long, blond locks. Digging into the roots when Mingi takes his bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it for just a split second. Enough to drive Yeosang absolutely insane, driving all of the oxygen out of his lungs in that moment.

The hands that fell to his waist droop further and further south, landing back on his rear. Cupping at the plumpness trapped beneath Yeosang's sweatpants, pulling the man closer against Mingi. He's hardly sitting on the counter at this point, legs coming up to wrap around Mingi's torso to prevent his fall.

Something mixed between a groan and a growl escapes from Mingi's throat and into Yeosang's mouth when he feels Yeosang pressing against him. Feeling the way he's already half-worked up after barely anything. Fingertips dig into Yeosang's rump, bringing him impossibly closer, chasing the contact after not having it for so long.

When Mingi's lips diverge from Yeosang's, trailing down to his jaw, leaving sloppy, open-mouth kisses against his skin, Yeosang finds his fingers winding further around Mingi's locks, allowing a moan to slip out over the overwhelming sensation of the other's lips on his skin. The lukewarm saliva landing on his overheated skin causing a stark enough contrast to send Yeosang into overdrive. His head falling back to give Mingi more space as he travels down his neck, teeth nipping at the thinned out skin.

"Mingi-ya… No—no marks," Yeosang breathes out, eyes fighting to stay open as the micro amounts of pain fall immediately to his groin, translating into pleasure instead. Mingi doesn't respond, but Yeosang feels the way he places a gentle kiss over the spots he toyed at.

Somehow that drives him even more insane than if Mingi voiced his response.

"Off," Mingi demands before latching his lips back onto Yeosang's collarbones, his hands on the move and fingers gripping around the hem of the other's shirt.

A sultry whimper barely escapes as Mingi's mouth continues to travel over the expanse of Yeosang's skin while he frees his hands from Mingi's hair. Obeying the order and lifting his hands into the air so Mingi can take his shirt off.

As soon as the piece of clothing is removed, and thrown somewhere behind Mingi, the man wastes no time in trailing his lips further down Yeosang's torso. Hands finding their way up Yeosang's side, and Mingi's thumb brushing over a nipple already perked up from the cold rush of air hitting his bare torso. Yeosang can't resist the moan falling from his lips from the sensation, arching his back in response.

They're no longer pressed together with the way Mingi is practically bent over Yeosang, licking and kissing over this torso. Treating his body like a canvas where every part of Mingi's mouth is like the paintbrush. Yet, Yeosang's legs fall slack from around the other the further he backs away from Yeosang. His heels digging into the cabinet below, and palms slamming against the countertop to prevent himself from falling onto the floor.

"Wanna suck you off," Mingi says in between kisses and nibbles on the skin that usually remains covered. He suddenly drops down to his knees, looking up at Yeosang from the tiled floor. "Please?"

Yeosang drops his head back as soon as the usual devilish expression on Mingi's face wipes away completely, and instead, staring back at him are eyes like a puppy. His fingers are tucked between Yeosang's hips and where his sweatpants lay against him, waiting for permission.

"Fuck," Yeosang breathes out from the sight. Heart stammering in his chest already. "Seonghwa would kill you if he found out."

"Don't care—he's not the one that's gone a month without your dick in his mouth." Mingi's mouth is practically watering as he waits for Yeosang's explicit approval. A tongue swipes over his lips in anticipation.

Normally, Yeosang would say no—absolutely not—but in this moment, he doesn't care either. It's been so long since Mingi's mouth has been on him like this. Even before the last time they hooked up, it was Yeosang that swallowed Mingi whole. He'll have to hope and pray to whoever that Seonghwa never finds out about this.

A simple uptick of Yeosang's head is all Mingi needs before he's tugging the other's sweatpants down to his knees at the speed of light. Yeosang's cock springing up with no remorse, the tip already so pink and wet, even beading with precum.

Any other time, Yeosang would be embarrassed with the way Mingi stares at his cock with half-lidded eyes, a form of hunger present on his expression, but the heat burning through every centimeter of his being prevents that from happening. Instead, a shiver creeps over his arms, legs, neck, everywhere, as Mingi scoots himself closer.

"Fuck, look at you. So wet for me already." Mingi is practically drooling.

He leans forward, finally, and licks a strip on the underside of Yeosang, reveling in the way Yeosang's jaw silently falls open from above. His tongue reaches Yeosang's tip and laps up the precum beginning to make its descent down towards the shaft. Yeosang's head can't stay upright, a choke out moan breaking through his stretched vocal chords, filling the kitchen as Mingi's tongue swirls around him. Tasting every little drop he has to offer.

Mingi's hands find themselves around Yeosang's calves for stability, essentially pinning them to the cabinets in the process. He doesn't dare think to use them right now, taking it as a challenge to make Yeosang fall apart with only his mouth for now. Knowing the other deserves it. To unravel around the ball of stress he unwillingly wrapped himself around.

Yeosang's hands stay planted on the countertop, bending in an attempt to grip at the surface as Mingi finally wraps his lips around Yeosang. Taking the tip into his mouth.

Even though Yeosang is perched up top, the angle isn't awkward—not with the way Mingi still manages to tower over Yeosang's hips even with his knees on the floor. These dorms weren't made for tall people, but right now, Yeosang is sure Mingi isn't complaining about the low countertops in this instance.

When Mingi finally sinks down on Yeosang, feeling the heat of Mingi's mouth wrap around him, Yeosang nearly shuts down. His head slumps forward, jaw completely slack, unable to produce even a whimper from the overwhelming sensation. If he wasn't already fully-hard, he certainly is now with the way Mingi begins to bob his head up and down in a rhythmic pattern.

"Holy fuck—Min, don't—" The words are raspy as they force themselves out. A shattered whine cutting off his string of words. "Shit, just like that."

He feels the way Mingi's tongue swirls around him—the way Mingi's saliva pools at the corner of his lips, spilling down Yeosang's shaft and dripping onto his pelvis. With his eyes fighting to stay open, Yeosang notices the sight and feels his cock twitch in Mingi's mouth.

As he throws his head back for the nth time, it's an accident that Yeosang bucks into Mingi's mouth when his back arches as well—completely lost in the refound pleasure. His tip brushes against the back of Mingi's throat, sending a new wave of dizziness over him.

The choked out sound Mingi produces in response only fuels him on further, but the other doesn't pull back. If anything, he keeps going deeper and deeper. Pushing the limits of his own throat for the sake of Yeosang's pleasure.

Yeosang's chest is heaving, soft whines spilling from his lips with each bob of Mingi's head, feeling the way his tip slams against the back of Mingi's throat. The knot coiling in his gut is winding tighter and tighter by the second in a more than familiar way.

"I'm—fuck—c-close. Mingi-ya—" One of Yeosang's hands bravely leaves its post on the countertop and finds its way on top of Mingi's head, fingers tangling into his bleached locks. Tugging him off of his cock before Yeosang ends up spilling down Mingi's throat.

A noise of confusion escapes from Mingi as he's tugged backwards, mourning the loss of Yeosang's cock in his mouth. But it doesn't last long before the hand tangled in his hair pulls him upwards and his lips crash against Yeosang's barely a second later.

It's filthy, the way Yeosang's tongue filters into his mouth, lapping up every little drop of himself still lingering in the orifice. Tasting his saltiness as he licks Mingi's mouth clean. Anything to prevent himself from coming this soon. But Mingi has other plans when a hand sneakily wraps itself Yeosang, earning a gasp from the other as his lips fall from Mingi's.

"N-No, please—" Yeosang begs, his hand dropping from Mingi's hair and ripping the hand off of his cock. Never has he been so opposing to coming, but this is only the beginning, and he knows he won't be able to again.

He pants heavily as Mingi stares at him in confusion, but not making any moves to disobey Yeosang's pleading.

"Don't wanna come yet." Yeosang leans forward and captures Mingi's lips with his own again. Breaking away a second later, leaving a trail of kisses over his face. On his moles, down to his jaw, on his neck, and so forth.

Mingi leans his head back as Yeosang leaves open-mouth kisses all over his skin, making sure his teeth only graze over the surface. Eliciting all sorts of responses from the other as his hot breath stays trapped between his mouth and Mingi's body.

Yeosang's fingers toy with the hem of Mingi's shirt, and he doesn't even need to say anything before the other reaches down to pull it off, expanding the surface Yeosang has to work with.

Even with the shirt on, Yeosang was able to tell that Mingi has been putting more effort in at the gym, but now that it's gone, the evidence is more than clear. He's always had a nice body—Yeosang always finding himself jealous of the small waist laying at the end of his long torso. Yet, as soon as he got his hands on the bare skin for the first time, the jealousy fled his system and was replaced with something else—perhaps hunger, a burning desire to wrap his hands around the narrow bit of space.

If his hands were just a smidgen bigger, he'd be able to watch as they swallow Mingi's waist whole.

"Are you just going to stare, or…" Mingi teases when he notices Yeosang's eyes trailing over every possible muscle on the man's torso.

"I need to keep you away from San and the gym, fuck." His hands slide up Mingi's sides, palms moving forward to cup over Mingi's pecs. Watching as the man before him bites at his own bottom lip when Yeosang's hands graze over his perked up nipples. Shivering from the sensitivity.

The way his body has toned up even more since the last time they had sex almost puts Yeosang's own muscles to shame—almost.

"Then I won't have you ogling over my body like I'm some piece of meat." Mingi leans forward, breath landing on Yeosang's cheek.

"And you act like you don't like it." Yeosang finally looks back up, meeting Mingi's half-lidded gaze before capturing his lips again for a brief moment. Hands continuing to work up and down Mingi's sides. "That you don't like the attention, and knowing how hot I think you are. I bet every rep you do, you picture me afterwards. Ready to tear you apart."

With Mingi pressed firmly against him again, only a thin layer of sweatpants separating them, Yeosang can feel the way Mingi's erection presses against his own. Twitching with the words he speaks between them. Whispering into the air only for Mingi to hear.

Mingi wastes no time in surging forward, bringing Yeosang's lips between his own with a new found intensity. The hands that laid at his waist grip firmly, but they don't stay dormant for long—no. They fall back down to Yeosang's rear, tugging him impossibly closer, pressing their erections together in a way that causes Yeosang to gasp into the kiss. His jaw falling slack once more, and Mingi takes it as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in. With a slight rock of his hips against Yeosang's sturdy ones on the countertop, he feels the way Yeosang falters within his grasp. Heavy pants, soft whimpers escaping with each circular motion of Mingi's. His legs wrapping around the man once more to keep the closeness as pleasure begins to build its way back up in his gut.

In one swift motion, Mingi presses Yeosang into him as much as he can before lifting the man up and off of the counter—their lips never breaking part for even a second. Blindly, Yeosang lets himself be carried throughout the apartment, keeping his groin pressed against Mingi's as their lips still slot against one another in a way one could only describe as sloppy. There's no rhythm from Mingi as he works to guide them not into a wall, and neither from Yeosang as he tries his best to roll his own hips against Mingi's.

Before he knows it, Yeosang's back comes in contact with something soft—presumably Mingi's own bed. The loss of contact between them causes a whine to escape unwillingly, but he doesn't have to worry about that Mingi crawls over top of him in a matter of seconds. His still clothed leg slotting between Yeosang, who wastes no time in grinding down on Mingi's thigh when their lips reconnect rather hastily.

"Fuck me, Mingi-ya," Yeosang says into Mingi's mouth. "Please."

Yeosang's other leg, propped up between Mingi's leg, feels the twitch through his sweatpants in response to Yeosang's command. If he wasn't already dripping all over himself, Yeosang would be a leaking mess from the small motion.

"Whatever you want, baby," Mingi kisses him one last time before pulling back and removing himself from the bed. Yeosang takes the opportunity to scoot himself up towards the pillows, resting his back against the headboard while he watches Mingi grab the lube and condoms from his drawer.

Before he climbs back on the bed, Mingi finally removes his sweatpants, and Yeosang feels his heart pick up at the sight of Mingi's cock springing up towards his abdomen. It wasn't until just before, that Yeosang noticed the dark, wet spot on the crotch of the man's sweatpants. Now that they're removed, Yeosang notices the glistening of smeared precum on his tip in the minimal lighting of the bedroom.

Mingi throws the bottle of lube and box of condoms on the bed, landing somewhere near Yeosang, before crawling his way back over. Yeosang leaning forward and meeting Mingi halfway in another kiss.

"Can you—" Yeosang starts, but cuts himself off when he feels the dry scrape of Mingi's hand around his cock suddenly. "Fuck!"

Smirking against his lips, Mingi continues kissing him as he uses his thumb to smear some of the precum beading at Yeosang's tip again. "Sorry, what was that?"

A moan falls from Yeosang's lip as the slide becomes somewhat smoother as each second passes. Unable to help the breathy noises escaping his throat as Mingi's fist jerks him off, keeping him at full-mast. Not like that would ever be an issue.

"You asshole—f-fuck—can you—" Yeosang throws his head back, slamming it against the headboard, unable to feel the pain throbbing against his skull as the pleasure builds in his gut again. His words falter again, and he struggles to get them out. Seeing Mingi's smirk only continue to grow as he presses his thumb against Yeosang's slit—just in the way he knows drives the other absolutely crazy.

"Fuck me raw!" Yeosang finally spits out with a cry. Writhing within Mingi's grasp. "W-Wanna feel you…."

Mingi's hand doesn't stop, but it comes to a slow.

"Are you sure?"

Yeosang nods his head frantically, bucking his hips up to make up for the lessened pace. "Please—need you, Mingi-ya. Now."

Even though it's technically because of Yeosang that they haven't hooked up in so long, now that they're at this step, he can't wait any longer. If Mingi doesn't slam his dick in his ass right this second, he'll do it himself.

He watches as Mingi reaches for the lube with his other hand, releasing Yeosang's cock and squeezing the lube onto his fingers. Before the bottle is even tossed to the side, Yeosang feels the familiar cool sensation press against his rim. A whine echoing against the walls of Mingi's bedroom as he finally pushes in, Yeosang's hole swallowing Mingi's finger whole.

The slide is easy, and before Yeosang closes his eyes from ecstasy building in his gut, he sees the look of perplex wash over Mingi's features.

"I-I prepped in the shower," Yeosang pants, arching his back as Mingi's long, thick finger works in and our of him effortlessly.

"Fuck," Mingi growls. "Of course you did. That eager for my cock to fill you up?"

Without another word, Mingi pulls his finger out, but slams back in with a second one added this time. The stretch burning against Yeosang's walls. He'd used three fingers earlier, but that's basically two of Mingi's own.

Yeosang cries out from the sensation. "Yes, missed it s-so much."

"It's been here the whole time, jagi." Mingi leans into Yeosang's space, licking his own lips as he watches Yeosang writhe under his touch.

Mingi's fingers curl into him, and every now and then, they brush against his prostate, sending a new, more intense wave of heat to his gut every time. The only sounds that fill the room are the slick fingers ramming in and out of Yeosang, and his raspy, broken cries.

"Look at you," Mingi coos, voice falling to barely above a whisper. "Completely fucked out from only my fingers. It's been so long, do you think you can even handle my cock?"

The words go straight to his dick, another burst of precum spilling from his tip. There's no way he's going to last once Mingi is actually in him.

"I don't care—" Yeosang manages to compose, chest heaving as Mingi secretly slips in a third finger, and the stretch continues. His walls burning like a forest fire, but it feels oh so good.

"You will when you're limping during practice tomorrow."

"Nuh—fuck!" Mingi's middle finger slams into his prostate, sending stars to cover Yeosang's vision, even when his eyes are closed. "Need you, Mingi-yah, please. N-Need your cock—fill me up, please."

And who is Mingi to deny Yeosang when he pleads—no, begs—so nicely.

Yeosang cries from the immediate loss, his hole clenching around nothing. But it doesn't last long. Not when he hears the squelch of lube being smeared on Mingi's dick, and the cap clicking closed once more. Yeosang doesn't even have to wait before he feels pressure against his rim again, the coolness from the fresh lube sending a shiver down his spine.

Mingi has himself lined up between Yeosang's legs, tip pushing into Yeosang's stretched out heat. The both of them groan simultaneously. Mingi from feeling Yeosang stretch around him, and Yeosang from feeling Mingi finally filling him up like he's been begging for.

"God, you're still so tight," Mingi croaks out. Looking down and watching the way Yeosang's hole swallows around him.

Even when they would meet up more often, Yeosang always struggled to accommodate for Mingi's girth. Though, since it's been quite long, and he hasn't even had time to use his own toys, the struggle is more intense. Yet, he feels the fire continuing to burn in his gut as his walls stretch around Mingi. Filling him up completely.

Mingi stops once he's pushed in all the way to the hilt, taking a minute for the both of them, but mainly for Yeosang. Who he can tell needs it the most. "You okay?"

Yeosang nods weakly, his chest falling and rising rapidly. "Yeah—you can move. Just go slow."

Though, Mingi doesn't move right away. He takes another moment or two before his hips finally pull back, dropping his head with the way Yeosang's walls scrape against him. Just as much, Yeosang's jaw falls slack from the movement, nearly crying out when Mingi begins to push back in.

He goes slow, just like Yeosang asked. Pushing all the way in until he presses against Yeosang's sweet-spot, watching the other's expression falter every time. Pulling almost all the way out, and bringing his hips flush against Yeosang's ass.

"M-More, Mingi-ya," Yeosang demands. His fingertips curl around the bedsheets beneath them.

"Are you sure?"

Any other time, Yeosang would be grateful for Mingi looking out for him, but right now, he needs him to be rough.

"Please," He breathes out. "Fuck me like you mean it. Like I'm yours."

The words spill from his mouth, right past his filter, but he doesn't even have time to worry about it, because Mingi pulls out and slams back into him. "Fuck!"

Mingi wastes no time in picking up his pace, following exactly as Yeosang commands. Pulling out, pushing back in, slamming against his prostate each time without fail. A wave of pleasure washing over Yeosang quicker and quicker with each valiant thrust.

"R-Right there—don't stop!" Yeosang whines out, arching his back.

Of course, Mingi has no plans on ceasing his actions. Eager to chase his own release alongside Yeosang. His hands grip at Yeosang's waist, pushing him against his groin at the same time he slams his hips up into the other. Loud, wet, smacks fill the room. Mixing with the whimpers escaping from Yeosang, and the low growls trapped in Mingi's chest.

"You take me so good, Yeosang-ah." Mingi is relentless, his stamina never ending. "Like you're made for me. Your pretty little hole all for me."

Yeosang feels the coil winding in his gut tighter and tighter. Not quite ready to snap—but soon. He knows that much.

And with the way Mingi suddenly folds Yeosang completely in half, pressing in even further, he knows it'll be even sooner.

"All for you," Yeosang mimics, the words falling numbly from his tongue as his eyes squeeze shut. "All yours."

"No one else could fuck you this dumb," Mingi says against the shell of Yeosang's ear. His voice the only sound swirling around in his mind.

With each snap of Mingi's hips, Yeosang feels the pleasure washing over him. It's all so familiar, but all so new at the same time. The way before it stayed contained in his gut, but Yeosang can feel his fingertips and toes tingle every time his prostate is abused. Slammed into without a care in the world.

"No—o-only you, Mingi-ya," Yeosang agrees.

These are new words being spoken. Neither of them uttering beliefs like this before, but Yeosang is too caught in a daze to even process any of it. Going along with it as if this is a common occurrence.

Yeosang doesn't even feel one of Mingi's hands leaving his waist, but he does notice it wrap around his cock once more, still slick from the lube smeared on his fingers. Without even realizing, Yeosang bucks his hips up into Mingi's fist, grinding against the man's cock filling up his ass at the same time. Feeling the pleasure wash over him more intensely then before.

"Holy shit—oh my God, d-don't stop!" His eyes are still squeezed shut, but white begins to flood his view anyway. Losing himself as he approaches closer and closer to his release. "I'm not—fuck."

"Come on, come for me, Yeosang-ah." Mingi turns his head and takes Yeosang's earlobe in between his teeth, gently gnawing on the fleshy bit before releasing it again. "Wanna hear you scream my name. Scream my name like it's the only word you know."

His pace quickens as Yeosang's moans increase by tenfold, signaling that he isn't too far off from his release. Mingi, just as desperate for his own. The grip on Yeosang's cock is sloppy, but at some point, Yeosang does all the work while his hand just floats there. Letting the other fuck into it like his life depends on it.

"R-Right there, I'm so—MingiMingiMingi, please!"

Even though Mingi is the one fucking into him, Yeosang is doing a majority of the work. Between bucking his hips up and grinding down on Mingi's pelvis every time they come in contact, the coil in his gut is wound so tight he's seconds from snapping.

Suddenly, Mingi leans back, and pulls Yeosang up with him when the release doesn't immediately come. With Yeosang seated in Mingi's lap, his head falls completely on the other's shoulder. Yet, Mingi's moves don't falter. Continuing to fuck up into him at the new angle where his cock reaches Yeosang's prostate even more precisely. Every little noise falling from Yeosang's lips is like music to his ears, driving him even closer to his own orgasm.

All it takes is a few more snap of Mingi's hips before Yeosang feels the pressure build to its limits.

"Fuck! I'm gonna—"

But before Yeosang can even finish his sentence, the coil snaps, and thick, white ropes of cum are shooting from his cock. Landing on both him and Mingi as the man continues fucking into him. Yeosang cries as he's worked through his orgasm, feeling actual tears slip down his cheeks as the last bouts of pleasure leave his system.

In a desperate chase of his own release, Mingi doesn't stop. His hips slam against Yeosang's ass with no remorse. Even though his body feels completely spent, Yeosang still makes the effort to grind down, helping Mingi to reach his climax.

"Come on, baby," Yeosang says, his voice raspy. "Come in me. Make me yours."

His hands come up to cup at Mingi's face right after, leaning their foreheads against one another.

"All mine, only mine," Mingi grunts in response.

One final roll of his hips, and Yeosang can feel Mingi's movements falter beneath him. He's beyond overstimulated, but the sensation of Mingi's cum rushing against his walls has him gasping out alongside Mingi's own groans. Thrusting in and out as he rides through the orgasm, eventually coming to a halt once every last drop spills into Yeosang.

They sit there, panting heavily into each other's mouths. Heart rates slowing back down, despite thrumming hard against their chests still.

Mingi reaches up and places a hand on top of Yeosang's, tucking his fingers in the space between his face and the other's hand. He pulls it down between them and kisses Yeosang's knuckles. Something blossoms in Yeosang's chest at the action, despite the simplicity of it.

"It wasn't too much, was it?" He hears Mingi ask softly.

Yeosang shakes his head, a smile barely spread across his lips. "No, it was perfect."

You were perfect, he thinks, but manages to keep from materializing verbally.

After another minute, Mingi gingerly helps Yeosang up and off of him, frowning when the other winces from the loss of contact. He lays Yeosang down against his pillows before he crawls off of the bed, leaving the room entirely for a moment.

Soon enough, the man re-enters with what appears to be a damp washcloth in his hands, and the clothes they lost at some point in the kitchen. Yeosang chuckles once he realizes, covering his face out of habit as Mingi finds the hilarity in it too.

"I'd suggest we shower, but I would rather you just rest for now." Mingi crawls back over with the towel in his hand, leaving the clothes at the foot of the bed. "I'll try to be gentle."

And that's always what confuses Yeosang's heart after.

When it's the heat of the moment, Yeosang never pays attention to what's actually said. Knowing neither of them are thinking clearly, letting their dicks do all the talking. Yet, afterwards, Mingi is always so careful with him. Treating him like he's something fragile—that will break if he even breathes too harshly.

It's not that he doesn't appreciate it, but with the few other hookups Yeosang has experienced over the years, none of them have been as forgiving as Mingi. Never offering to clean him up if he bottomed, or even asking how it was afterwards. Most times, they'd kick Yeosang right out afterwards, not even with a peck of the lips as a decent goodbye.

It's never been like that with Mingi.

As soon as the washcloth lands against his sensitive skin, Yeosang can't help the way his body tenses up in response. It's usually never this much, but that's as expected. They should have gone easier, but Yeosang wasn't thinking in the moment. He just wanted to feel all of Mingi, as selfish as he is.

"I know, I know. I'll be done soon," Mingi coos, his thumb on Yeosang's thigh rubbing soft, comforting circles into the muscle.

Soon enough, Mingi deems Yeosang as clean as possible without having to get up and taking a shower. He departs shortly to throw the washcloth into a laundry basket to deal with later. In the minuscule amount of time he's gone, Yeosang is already starting to drift off to sleep.

He should probably just go back to his dorm, that way they don't risk something like last time happening, but there's no way Yeosang's lead-filled muscles are moving anytime soon.

His eyes shoot open when he feels the mattress dip besides him, looking up and seeing Mingi sitting up, reaching to pull up the comforter over them. Eventually the other settles down, and Yeosang feels his lids begin to droop again. Though, before he can actually fall asleep, an arm snakes its way underneath of Yeosang's shoulders and tugs him closer. His head landing somewhere between Mingi's neck and shoulder.

That's the other thing—how clingy Mingi is afterwards. Another stark difference to Yeosang's previous experiences.

"I missed you," Mingi breathes out, his cheek nuzzling against Yeosang's hair.

There it is.

The guilt Yeosang hadn't felt since earlier today comes back, whether Mingi realizes or not.

The arm around him tightens, and Yeosang allows himself to melt into the touch. Bringing his leg up and over, landing between both of Mingi's, so he's now laying overtop of him as opposed to right up against him.

"I'm sorry." Yeosang burrows his head into Mingi's chest, hiding his face as best as he can given their positions. "I didn't mean to push you out, I just—I've been so tired. Every night, I fall asleep as soon as I get home. You can ask Yunho if you don't—"

"I believe you, Yeosang-ah." Mingi cuts him off as he brings a hand up to pat at the man's hair. "I shouldn't have said I don't, earlier. I know we've all been busy preparing for the comeback, but we don't always have to have sex, you know."

Yeosang is afraid he's not following. "What do you mean?"

He listens as Mingi exhales contently, slightly shifting beneath him.

"I mean, we can just hang out. Even without all of this, you're still my friend—someone I like being around in general."

Oh.

"You can come over, and I can cook us dinner—like I did tonight," Mingi continues on. "Or anything, honestly. I feel like I hardly see you outside of practice anymore."

There's something squeezing around his heart, and Yeosang is worried about the implications. But he's far too exhausted to find room to worry about them right now.

"You weren't kidding when you said you missed me," Yeosang teases, his voice beginning to soften, and his words slurring as sleep begins to pull him under. "But yeah—we can do that. Just hang out too."

"I never kid when it comes to you, Yeosang-ah."

And maybe it's Yeosang who is trapped in a weird state of half-conscious, but he swears that he can feel the faintest kiss land on the crown of his head.

"You sound exhausted." Mingi points out afterwards when he doesn't immediately respond. "I set an alarm for a few hours from now, so try to get some sleep until then."

If he wasn't mere seconds from passing out, Yeosang would realize the implications behind that statement, but it completely slips from his mind the second his ears finish registering the words. With the steady rise and fall of Mingi's chest beneath his head, it lulls him into what might be the most restful sleep he's had in weeks, even if it's only for a couple of hours—like the other stated.

Though, just before he falls into that deep slumber, through the closed door, Yeosang can hear the familiar voices of San and Seonghwa filling the dorm from down the hall. Unable to clearly make out what they're talking about, he swears he hears something about a pair of shoes just as his mind finally drifts off with Mingi keeping him pulled snug against him.

· · ──────⩇⩇:⩇⩇────── · ·

After that night, Yeosang found it hard to resist Mingi's advances anymore.

Whether they were innocent or wound with dirty intentions for only them to interpret, Yeosang couldn't stay away, no matter how hard he tried.

Even if he curses at himself mentally every time, it's hard to deny how well his mental fatigue decreases after the fact. As if spending even an hour with the other man is more than enough to push all of the chaos to the side and allow himself to relax for once.

The only downside, the more casual time they spend as opposed to rolling around either of their sheets, Yeosang realizes his feelings are becoming far more intertwined and complicated. Where before it was obvious he found himself physically attracted to Mingi, each day it seems as though he becomes swayed by the other's charms and has to actively fight the butterflies fluttering around his abdomen.

Not only that, but it's seemingly as if everything revolves around Mingi. It's sickening, he thinks. How often he'll be out with another member and find himself thinking about the man. Even in tiny slights, like if he would like this drink, or would he laugh at the joke brewing in Yeosang's mind, and so on. It seems never ending.

If Yeosang hadn't already been at a crossroad this entire time, then he certainly is now.

In front of him, there's two paths with possibly endless paths that further branch off.

Either this continues—their hookups—and Yeosang deals with his impossible-to-squash feelings, or he cuts everything off as soon as he can.

The latter option is the path he should take, but no matter how hard he wants to, he can't.

It would be the better option—for everyone. They're idols, in the same group. If this blows up, it could mean the end of the group as they know it. That's not something Yeosang can risk. Yet, on the other side of the same coin, is the chance that Mingi feels the same way and that almost trumps all the negatives. If there's even a slim chance that Yeosang's feelings could be reciprocated, he might contemplate risking everything.

Keyword being might.

Outloud, he grunts and drops his head into his hands, forgetting about his surroundings.

"What the hell was that?" Wooyoung, sitting next to him in the waiting room, asks. A look of concern on his expression rather than curiosity.

"Sorry—I didn't mean to actually do that," Yeosang explains. He picks his head back up and sighs. "I'm just a little stressed."

"Yeah, I can tell. Do you wanna talk about it?"

Straight ahead, with his back facing them is Mingi—sitting in a makeup chair waiting to be dolled up for their upcoming performance. There's probably no more than five meters between his chair and the couch Yeosang is sitting on.

So even if he did want to talk about this very specific stressor—he couldn't. Not when the source is that close.

Though, at some point, Yeosang is going to need to talk to someone about it. Even if it's not mentioning Mingi, but just about a hypothetical situation that mirrors his own.

"Maybe later," Yeosang finally says.

To which Wooyoung simply shrugs and starts talking about something else, diverting the topic entirely. Whether for Yeosang's sake as a form of distraction, or simply because he wants to. Either way, it works in the moment and he feels the weights lifted temporarily from his shoulder when an earnest chuckle bursts from his chest over Wooyoung's story.

In between the time Yeosang gets his own hair and makeup done, and when they're all called to the stage for the performance is a handful of hours.

Each member finds their own thing to do. Some of them snacking, dozing off, or even goofing around with one another. Yeosang on the other hand, usually keeps to himself. Staying put on the couch, attempting to get a few minutes of shut-eye in despite all the chaos ensuing in the background.

Yet, it's deemed impossible when San and Seonghwa begin belting along to a song playing from San's phone.

Normally Yeosang wouldn't care about them being this loud and obnoxious, but he struggled to sleep the night prior and can feel the onset of a headache approaching from the back of his head. Letting out a sigh, his eyes pinched shut, Yeosang forces himself up from the couch.

No one notices as he walks across the room and exits, stalking off towards the bathroom right down the hall. Hoping he can find some peace and quiet there for just a minute. Maybe even two or three. There's still some time until they're supposed to be called to stage.

It's unlike him to grow frustrated with the members usual antics, but with everything piling up in his mind, and the lack of sleep, it's all starting to get to him.

Even at practice, Yunho called him out for not being as sharp and precise with his moves. During rehearsal earlier this afternoon, Yeosang struggled to project his voice as effectively. As if something was weighing heavy in his lungs and preventing him from doing so. Seonghwa offered a bit of advice, but it hardly made him feel better.

So, when he enters the bathroom, letting the heavy door slam shut again the frame, he doesn't even lock himself into one of the stalls. Yeosang merely braces himself against the counter where the sinks are, and allows his head to hang between his shoulders.

None of this was supposed to go on for this long, and his feelings weren't supposed to become so twisted.

What he believed to be a great way to relieve stress at first, is quickly spiraling into his main source of stress. How ironic, actually. Although, he should have seen this from a million kilometers away. Given the small crush Yeosang had on the man already, anyone else would have been able to predict this wouldn't end well. Even if it hasn't ended yet, Yeosang knows when that time comes, it's not going to be pretty.

Despite the absence of sound in the bathroom, Yeosang misses the sound of the door opening and closing. Probably due to the pounding of the blood rushing to his head from having it hung like this. That, and the headache beginning to amp up against his skull.

"Yeosang-ah?" A voice calls out, causing him to snap his head upwards.

Beside him, Mingi, of all people, appears out of thin air, and the blood in Yeosang's veins startles.

"Shit," He curses. "You gotta stop scaring me like this."

It's half of a serious statement in regards to his skyrocketing heart rate over the jump-scare, and half of a joke because of the irony of it all.

"Sorry, I don't mean to." Mingi huffs out a small laugh, but there isn't a smile on his face. "Is everything okay? I saw you rush out and now…"

The words trickle out and come to a slow stop, but Yeosang knows what he means.

"Yeah," Yeosang lies right through his teeth. "I'm fine—it was just too loud in there. Here—it's quiet."

When he stepped in a moment ago, he didn't actually check to see if anyone was in here, but considering he didn't even notice Mingi come in, Yeosang doubts he would have paid attention to anyone else coming and going.

The answer must not be enough, because as he stares back at the man, the look of pure, genuine concern doesn't leave.

Another sigh escapes from Yeosang's lips as he looks away. Avoiding Mingi's persistent eyes.

"You can talk to me, you know."

He almost scoffs, but holds it back.

Not about this, Yeosang thinks in his head.

After that night, Yeosang did keep up with Mingi's suggestion about just hanging out rather than always meeting up for sex—and sometimes he wonders if that's what is making all of this so much more worse. Sure, they've hung out before but mainly with other members, or a manager present. Not usually one-on-one. And now that Yeosang feels more obligated to—as if he's keeping up with some sort of deal—he's finding it harder and harder to push aside his feelings for the other.

It hasn't even been that many occasions, only a handful, yet each time Yeosang feels the tug on his heart grow more and more.

Looking around the bathroom, Yeosang can tell that there's no one in any of the stalls, especially with the doors remaining cracked rather than fully shut. It's an excuse for his next statement—if anything.

"I know, but not here," Yeosang breathes out, turning to face Mingi once again. Whose gaze has since softened in the mere seconds Yeosang had his head turned away.

A tentative hand reaches across the space between them, and lands on the plush of Yeosang's cheek. Resting for a moment in time before the thumb attached to it sweeps the worries off the surface of his skin. Yeosang allows his eyes to fall shut over the premise of the comfort from the action, but has to fight the onset of tears stinging behind his eyes.

Never does he cry this easily, but somehow under the right pressure and circumstances, it seems plausible.

The only thing preventing them from flowing freely down his cheeks is the knowledge of the makeup sitting prettily on his skin. The last he'd want is for the makeup artists to have to fix his stage makeup—and also for anyone to know that he had cried.

It would only cause more problems than solving any.

So he sucks in a harsh breath and places a hand over top of Mingi's. Except, he doesn't keep it there. No, he pushes the man's hand away from his face, feigning his true emotions.

"We should get back, they're gonna call us on stage soon." Yeosang only looks Mingi in the eyes and tries not to feel the burn spread like a wildfire in his chest.

When the only response is a curt nod from the other, Yeosang knows this is only the beginning of the end.

· · ──────⩇⩇:⩇⩇────── · ·

Working out is the only thing that seems to be a big enough distraction for him anymore.

Between having to keep track of how many reps he's already done, what set he's on, and how many more are left, Yeosang can't possibly find room to squeeze Mingi into his mind for the couple of hours he spends in the gym.

Of course, it's probably not healthy, but it's not like there's much of an option at this point.

Besides, the progress he's showing in a short amount of time is more than rewarding—and the fans love his appearance as well. Even if he rather hear the praise of his dedication from someone else instead, it's good enough to read the words online for now.

"You're going to the gym again?" Seonghwa asks him, a bewildered expression filling his features prominently. "Didn't you go this morning before practice?"

It's already nearing midnight, and Yeosang should probably go home and sleep, especially considering he can feel the lead in his bones beginning to settle.

"I'll go easy. Maybe do some cardio, or something."

He's about to go and grab his duffel bag from the closet in the back when Seonghwa suddenly steps in front of him.

"We just did cardio for six hours," Seonghwa says, eyebrows knitting together. "Yeosang-ah, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." Another lie.

Somehow, Seonghwa doesn't see through this one. Unlike every other member that has been asking him a similar question for the past month. They end up dropping it when Yeosang either pushes past them, or carries on with the same demeanor he's been carrying.

"When was the last time you ate? If you're going to workout again, you need to at least eat before you burn even more calories," Seonghwa says, eyeing Yeosang up and down.

Honestly, Yeosang doesn't even know. Maybe he had a protein bar a couple of hours ago to hold him over, but even then, it hardly fill him up. His stomach began growling not too long after, and no amount of water he chugged was enough to sustain. It's a miracle the organ didn't start speaking to Seonghwa directly in the moment.

The lack of a response is more than enough for Seonghwa. "Come on, we're going back to my dorm. I'll cook ramen or something—"

"No!" Yeosang interrupts him, showing more emotion here than he has this entire conversation. The other stares back at him with unfiltered confusion over the sudden reaction. "I mean—I'll go with you, just not to your dorm. We can go to mine."

He doesn't wait for the other to respond before finally heading to grab his duffel bag like initially planned, but Seonghwa follows him out regardless.

The drive back to his dorm allows for the lead to really settle into his joints, and maybe it's a good thing he's not going back to the company gym. As much as he loves the burning in his muscles from pushing them to their limits, he also doesn't want to overdo it and risk an injury. Not when they have another comeback around the corner. A sense of dread washes over him from the mental imagery of his arms or legs giving out from exhaustion. He shakes it off as he finally turns into the parking garage for his building.

At some point on the drive over, Yeosang's phone chimed and he already knew who it was without needing to check. Though, now that he's parked, the fire in his chest begins to burn once more at the sight of the only notification on his screen.

Mingi

Are you still at the company?
San and Seonghwa aren't home yet

Yeosang contemplates not responding, but he stares back at the three previous messages from the other that he also never responded to. Except, those weren't even sent in the same context as these. Instead, they were sent in a friendly regard—but the thought of it made Yeosang feel sick to his stomach for whatever reason. He meant to respond, but ended up forgetting until it became socially unacceptable to respond.

Or at least that's what he uses as an excuse.

Yeosang

Sorry getting dinner with Seonghwa-hyung

At the same time Yeosang sees the 1 go away next to his message, he hits the lock button on his phone and stuffs it into his pocket. Ignoring the next chime that sounds as he exits his car and makes his way up the building.

By the time he reaches his dorm, Seonghwa had already let himself in and began boiling three packs of ramen for the two of them—Yunho and their manager nowhere to be found.

"I'm gonna shower real quick," Yeosang announces as soon as he kicks his shoes off, not waiting for the other's response.

He takes his time, washing all of the grime and sweat off of his body from the day. Allowing the scalding-hot water to seep into his skin, down into his muscles even. Scrubbing at every part of his body with more intensity than he intends to. In the end, it feels relieving, but Yeosang's skin is bright red without a doubt.

In the steamed-up mirror, Yeosang stares back at himself and sighs softly at the sight.

There's bags and dark circles under his eyes that haven't been there despite all the previous years of lack of sleep. Where his cheeks used to be puffy appear more sunken in—presumably from all the exercising he's been doing to keep his mind away from Mingi. Even then, his arms that have always had a sense of roundness to them seem more slim and sharp this time around. It's a stark difference to even a month or two ago, and Yeosang hates it.

This isn't who he is nor who he wants to be.

"The ramen is ready," Seonghwa calls out once Yeosang appears in the kitchen, already sitting at the island with a bowl in front of him.

During his shower, Yeosang's stomach began growling immensely, and now that he can finally smell the finished result of the ramen Seonghwa cooked, it feels like a war-zone within his abdomen.

"Thanks, hyung."

Yeosang sits down next to Seonghwa and soon enough the room is filled with only slurping sounds and their chopsticks accidentally clashing into the bowls.

The warmth slides down Yeosang's chest and into his belly with every bite, finally filling up the organ with something other than water and enough food for a mouse to feast on. Even though it's nothing fancy, it feels like he's eating a meal from a three-star Michelin restaurant after the accidental fasting all day. The way every bit of flavor lands on his tongue and sits there for a moment before he swallows, attempting to savor it.

Seonghwa allows them to eat in silence before the pestering begins, and Yeosang knew better than to not expect it.

"Yeosang-ah," Seonghwa says, softly. With a tone mimicking one a mother might have.

"I know, I'm sorry." He doesn't even quite know what he's apologizing for, but he feels the need to.

"I don't know what's going on, but we're all worried. You haven't been this secluded in a while. Even Yunho said he hasn't seen you much, and you two live together." It feels like a knife seeping into chest as Seonghwa's words register in his head.

The only thing about all of this, is that Yeosang has nursed the thought multiple times about finally reaching out to someone about this situation. Though, each and every time, he became overwhelmed with such intense nausea that he quickly jumped ship, unsure how to proceed.

It's not something easy to confess—that he and another member have been sleeping around with one another for almost a year, on and off. Yet, to Yeosang it isn't just that. It's never been just that. And now it's all becoming too unbearable and he rather back away than face the possibilities of rejection, or something much worse.

"It feels so stupid," Yeosang finally says, his hands coming up to his face out of shame. "It shouldn't have ever become such an issue, and I should have just…"

His words taper off, but Seonghwa doesn't interrupt—whether it's out of politeness, or worry that if he does, Yeosang won't actually let it out.

"I've been seeing someone," He confesses once and for all. "At first, it was only—you know—no strings attached, but I don't think it was ever like that for me, hyung. I knew I liked him, and I still slept with him, hoping I could just keep it casual."

Yeosang's arms fall and land around the bowl in front of him, hands meeting at a point on the other side of the island counter. Beside him, Seonghwa sits staring straight ahead, but his ears are taking in every word.

"I tried coming up with all of these stupid rules, to drive him away, so I wouldn't actually get my heart broken—because he doesn't see me like that—but he listened to every single thing. I told him not to tell anyone, he has to leave before morning, don't make too much noise, no marks, and so on. Any normal person would have been turned off by those, but he accepted them—no questions asked." His voice isn't confident, but it doesn't waver either.

"I shouldn't have let it happen in the first place—not with how it could ruin everything. And I don't want the people around us to be affected, but it's probably too late." Yeosang isn't being careful with details anymore, but at this point he doesn't care.

Seonghwa sits there for a minute, maybe two, before he finally says anything. "Yeosang-ah, you need to talk to him, tell him how you really feel."

When Yeosang turns to finally look at the other, tears stinging behind his eyes again, he almost breaks then.

"If it was that easy, I would have done it a year ago." Yeosang scoffs and looks away.

"What do you think would be worse, telling him how you feel and possibly being rejected, or keeping this up, hurting yourself in the process and risking both of your careers because of this?" Seonghwa asks without missing a beat.

It's in that moment, Yeosang realizes Seonghwa already knows. A flush floods his face instantly over the subtle wording used by the other, but he can't find it in him to even deny it.

"How did you—"

"That doesn't matter right now," Seonghwa omits from telling him just then. "If you really like him, you need to tell him, Yeosang-ah. You keep saying he doesn't feel the same way, but there's no way to know unless you two just talk about it."

It's with confidence, the way Seonghwa is telling him all of this. As if he knows something Yeosang doesn't—which would not be shocking at this point.

"We can't be together, hyung," Yeosang lets out, voice small and pathetic. Thick with unlaced tears ready to fall at any moment.

He makes the mistake of looking over at Seonghwa again, and that's when the dam finally ruptures. A wave rushes towards him, nearly knocking him off of his feet, but the other is there to catch him. Pulling Yeosang into his arms as the tears fall hot and heavy down his cheeks at last.

As the arms wrap around his torso, Yeosang willingly falls into the crook of Seonghwa's neck and lets it all out at once. Everything that has been building over the past year comes flooding out in this moment, and he feels sorry for the snot that might remain on Seonghwa's shirt after this. Sob after sob rips from his chest until they turn into measly hiccups. Eyes burning from the sheer amount of tears that shed as a result of the bottling.

"It's gonna be okay, Yeosang-ah," Seonghwa whispers above the shell of Yeosang's ear, his hand eagerly rubbing comforting circle into the other's back. Coaxing every last little drop of emotion out.

"You say that like you know something," Yeosang says, his words muffled by Seonghwa's shoulder. A small hiccup coming out afterwards.

"Just trust me, okay? I wouldn't blindly lead you down the wrong path if I didn't know anything."

At the same time Yeosang picks his head up from Seonghwa, leaning back to peel himself away from the tear-soaked embrace, he hears the front door chime after the passcode had been entered properly. Signaling Yunho's arrival back to the dorm after coming back from wherever he was.

Seonghwa grabs at their bowls and begins taking them to the sink, when Yeosang attempts to intercept, mumbling something about he shouldn't clean up after cooking for them. It turns into an unnecessary back and forth battle as the two stand in front of the sink, and Yunho finally makes his presence known by stepping into the middle of the squabble.

"I don't think I've ever seen two people fight over insisting to do the dishes," Yunho chuckles as he moves to make his way past the two, delving further into the dorm.

"Where were you? I thought you were in your room." Yeosang turns to ask his roommate, and Seonghwa takes this as the perfect opportunity to yank the sponge out of his hand.

"Oh, I, uh—" In that moment, it's when Yunho finally catches a proper glance at Yeosang, and the state he arrived at after his little pity-party. There's hesitation behind his words already, but the pause lingers far longer than he most likely intended to. "I was at the gym, and then Mingi asked if I could stop by. He seemed upset about something."

The silence that falls afterwards is enough to incriminate Yeosang, but he doesn't defend himself. Instead, he sucks in a breath and nods.

"I think—" Yunho begins, but Yeosang cuts him off before he can get any further.

"I'll talk with him, just not now. It's already late, and we have a schedule in the morning."

Even if Mingi didn't disclose anything personal to Yunho, it doesn't matter. The way he approached the conversation like it's surrounded by eggshells is enough for Yeosang to deduce that he knows something. Maybe not as much as Seonghwa, but definitely something.

At least with Yeosang being upset, it was one thing, but if Mingi is just as upset, the other's will start putting two and two together if they haven't already.

This isn't going to be easy.

· · ──────⩇⩇:⩇⩇────── · ·

A week goes by before Yeosang gets the proper chance to face Mingi one-on-one.

Not because he was dragging his feet—which he definitely was—but because of practice and other schedules. None of them have been home much with their next comeback already just around the corner, and even if they are, it's already far too late. Exhaustion weighing heavy on everyone.

The last thing Yeosang wants is to approach this conversation and have it swayed in a different direction because of his inability to control his emotions due to lack of sleep and pent-up stress.

Yeosang

Is Mingi home?

None of them have anything planned today, at least not until later in the night, so Yeosang knows for a fact Mingi should be home, but he texts Seonghwa just to double-check. As he waits for the reply, his phone feels like a brick in his hand.

Seonghwa

Yeah
He's been in his room all morning

Before he misses his window, Yeosang pries himself from his own bed, and rushes to grab a change of clothes. It's not likely that Mingi will up and leave the dorm within the next thirty minutes it takes him to get ready and head down to his floor, but he runs around with a predetermined speed. Not willing to take any chances.

As he flies towards the front door, dressed in only a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Yunho looks up at him from the island counter where he's unpacking the takeout he ordered not too long ago.

"Whoa, where are you going in such a hurry?"

The sight must be rather alarming, in actuality. Considering Yeosang never moves at this speed, even during a fast-paced song with an intense choreography.

"Mingi's," Yeosang says as he stuffs his foot into a sneaker, keeping one hand on the wall for balance.

"Oh," Yunho replies, gently placing the plastic container on the counter. Yeosang can't see it, but a flush of red creeps across his roommates cheeks. "To talk, or…"

When his one foot is finally secured in the shoe, Yeosang turns around and is faced with the look of horror plastered on Yunho's expression. "Yes—to talk. Jesus, Yunho, I wouldn't—we're close, but I wouldn't tell you when I'm about to—"

"Yeah, right—of course." Yunho cuts him off, diverting his gaze to the rest of the contents in the bag in front of him. "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," Yeosang responds with before he finally has his other shoe secured, and he's out the door seconds later.

They never actually talked about that night when Yunho came back from Mingi's dorm, but Yeosang could only assume his name was brought up in one way or another. Basing around the way Yunho began to behave around him afterwards, seemingly blushing out of nowhere as if in remembrance of a newfound fact he learned.

Either way, some things are better left unspoken, and for now, this is one of those situations. When the time comes—if it ever comes—Yeosang will properly apologize for making him deal with all of this. Him and Seonghwa. And anyone else that knows already.

The last time Yeosang made this familiar descent in his building was close to a month ago, at this point. It hadn't been intentional, to put their activities on pause again, but with everyone being busy, and Yeosang keeping himself busy at the gym most nights, it just happened. Even if Mingi reached out, Yeosang would decline or ignore it. Much like before.

It feels like minutes as he watches the floor numbers in the elevator decrease until it finally comes to a halt, and the doors hiss open as usual.

Forty-three steps to Mingi's front door, but Yeosang completes it in nearly half as he jogs down the hall instead. Thankfully, no one is in the halls, observing his unusual behavior. Even on the nights where it had been too long since the last time they met up for sex, Yeosang never approached his dorm like this.

As soon as he approaches the door, he types in the passcode on the keypad and lets himself in, barely out of breath from the hastening pace.

"Yeosangie? What are you—" San begins to ask from the kitchen as soon as Yeosang makes his presence known in the living room, but he's cut off in the process.

Seonghwa, who sits on the couch, glances upwards and begins to pry himself up from the sectional. "San-ah, let's go."

"Huh? What—why?" He looks between Seonghwa approaching him, already beginning to be ushered towards the front door.

"I'll explain later, just come on."

Despite all of it, Yeosang remains still in the middle of the living room, watching as the two eventually make their leave, of course with San protesting during the entirety of it.

As soon as the door closes, and their voices carry away from the dorm, reality sets in for Yeosang, and his heart is thrumming rapidly against his chest. Not from the jogging down the hall, either.

There's no point in delaying his intentions of coming here now that the other two have left.

Though, he doesn't even have to take as much as a single step forward, when he hears footsteps coming down the hall already. Each press of the foot against the hardwood floor echoes in Yeosang's head, bouncing around his skull. His heart-rate not increasing, but not slowing down either. Keeping him in a perpetual state of nervousness.

Mingi sppears before him a few moments later, and Yeosang expects him to ream him out. Rip him a new one for avoiding him again, and kick him out for even showing his face like this unannounced.

But none of that happens.

Instead, Mingi crosses the distance between them until they're standing directly in front of one another.

Yeosang waits with a bated breath heavy in his chest for the words to hit his ears, but nothing comes from Mingi's mouth.

What comes instead, is the other's arms reaching out and pulling Yeosang flush against him, wrapping around his shoulders and holding him there. Yeosang falters for a second, brain short circuiting over the action. Until he eventually brings his own arms up and around Mingi as well, wrapping them around just as firmly.

"I'm sorry." Yeosang hears come from Mingi, and he tenses up.

"What—why are you—"

"You told me not to tell anyone, and I didn't," Mingi begins, leaning his head down to melt further into the embrace. "But Seonghwa found out after the last time you came over, because your jacket was on the couch, and I couldn't think of an excuse."

Yeosang rubs a hand on Mingi's back. "I'm not mad—it's fine. Someone was going to find out at some point."

Mingi picks his head up and leans back enough so that they're looking at each other again.

"You're not?" He asks, and Yeosang shakes his head in response. "I-I thought you were, and that's why you weren't answering me again."

A strike of lightening hits Yeosang in the middle of Mingi's living room, and he struggles to keep himself upright.

"Fuck—no, Mingi, I'm not—I could never be mad at you." He brings a hand around and up, cupping at Mingi's cheek, thumb brushing over the soft skin that lands beneath the appendage.

"Then why have you—"

"I like you." Yeosang forces out, his eyes scanning over every part of Mingi's face.

Just when he's about to continue on, he's cut off before he even has the chance by Mingi surging forward and clashing their lips together. Bringing them closer with his arms still wrapped around Yeosang's shoulders, hands moving to grasp at his torso better. Deepening the kiss in a matter of seconds.

Their lips slide together for the millionth time, moving against one another in a way that can only be described as familiar. It remains relatively closed, until Mingi's hand dips down far enough and rubs over a sensitive spot on Yeosang's side. A small gasp sending the latter's lips apart as he breathes out into Mingi's mouth.

The sound fills the air, and Yeosang becomes hyper-aware of his reaction, reeling back afterwards.

"Wait, Mingi-ya, I wasn't—I wasn't done." He attempts to get out as Mingi follows him and keeps leaving kisses against his open mouth—not caring how sloppy it seems. His other hand comes up to push the other off of him, so he can continue, but his efforts go unnoticed when Mingi begins to leave a trail of kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. The hand on Mingi's face slides back into his hair and Yeosang curls his fingers as he cranes his own neck back for Mingi to have more room. "Fuck, Mingi—"

He leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses against his neck. Teeth-scratching against the surface of his skin, another gasp escaping from his mouth that hangs slack-jawed at this point. Their bodies are pressed together as close as they can be despite Mingi straining his neck, and Yeosang can already feel against his hip just how affected the other already is.

"Keep talking, I'm good at multi-tasking." Mingi pulls back for just a minute before leaning back in to kiss Yeosang square on the lips, sucking on his bottom lip in the process.

Every word Yeosang had prepared on his tongue was stolen by Mingi as soon as he swipes his own into Yeosang's mouth, intertwining the muscles together. A pair of hands land at his waist and gently toy with the hem of Yeosang's shirt. Without saying anything, Yeosang brings his hands away from Mingi's head and lets the other pull it up and over his own head, breaking the kiss for barely a second. Their lips finding each other once again as if they're opposite ends of a magnet.

He hardly notices when Mingi starts leading them towards the couch, their feet stumbling between one another blindly. As soon as the back of Mingi's knees hit the armrest, their lips break again as he falls completely back, hitting the cushions below, legs dangling over the armrest. With his groin elevated like this, it's impossible to ignore the tent bulging in his sweatpants.

Yeosang stares down at it and sucks in a breath, absent mindedly licking at his bottom lip and tugging it into his mouth. Feeling how swollen it is already from them making out.

"Don't look at me like that…" Mingi brings his hands to cover his face out of embarrassment, but not making any effort to hide his erection.

"There's nothing to be shy about, Mingi-ya." Yeosang walks over to stand beside the man's head, hands reaching down to tug them away from his face. With them in his grasp, he pulls upward. "Sit up."

In a matter of seconds, Mingi is scrambling to sit upright—bringing his legs up and over the armrest finally, and swinging them over so his feet land on the floor beside Yeosang. He stares up at the other in anticipation, waiting for whatever the next move is.

Of course, when Yeosang places his hands on Mingi's shoulder, he already knows what to expect. Shortly after, Yeosang brings a knee on one side of Mingi's lap, watching as the man beneath him gulps down a swallow. When the other knee follows on the other side, he hovers. A hand removing itself from Mingi's shoulder, fingertips landing at his chin instead.

There's a new found level of confidence coursing through Yeosang's veins and he doesn't know what caused it—maybe from how willing Mingi is to obey right now.

"I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen." He says, voice filled to the brim with filthy intents. Finally lowering himself down on Mingi's lap, feeling the man press up against him and hearing a shudder escape the man's lips. "Since you're so good at multi-tasking."

With the smallest movement possible, Yeosang rolls his hips against Mingi's groin, the both of them releasing a gasp simultaneously from the contact.

Even though he's gotten himself off plenty since the last time they hooked up, Yeosang can't say whether it's the same for Mingi, who already seems to be losing himself. Yet, feeling the man's cock pressing against his own through their sweatpants is nothing in comparison to his own hand.

"I've had a crush on you for so long, Mingi-ya," Yeosang starts off with, continuing to roll his hips on top of Mingi's. "I never expected anything to come from it, but when you kissed me that night, I knew I was fucked."

The hand he has on Mingi's chin stays there, to keep the man looking directly at him. Any other time, Yeosang would fear the constant eye contact, but he needs to see the other's face. Even if his expressions will be skewed by the pleasure building in his groin, he still needs to see Mingi's reaction to his confession.

"I shouldn't have let this go on for so long without telling you, but I was scared I was just a quick fuck to you, so I never said anything." Mingi's hands come up to his waist and press Yeosang down as much as he can, still maintaining the eye contact. No matter how hard he yearns to throw his head back when the man grinds against him in just the right way.

"C-Can I say something…" Mingi asks so nicely, whimpering in between words. It's like music to Yeosang's ears.

"Of course you can, baby."

The pet name, one Yeosang hardly uses towards the other unless they're really going at it and he's too far gone to put his thoughts through a filter, has Mingi melting underneath of his touch.

"I like you too, so much," Mingi manages to say coherently. "S-So you've never been just a quick fuck to me. Everything I've said and done—I meant. I mean."

It shouldn't cause Yeosang to stutter in his movements, but it does, and his hand loses its grip ever so slightly on Mingi's chin.

Seeing this as his opportunity to get what he wants, Mingi snakes a hand up Yeosang's side, hand landing in his hair. He curls his fingers into the short, darkened locks and tugs the man closer until their lips are smashing together again.

This time is different.

Even though the hunger is still there, Mingi doesn't devour him whole like he did moments ago. His hand on Yeosang's waist holds him so gently, so tenderly, while the other hand on the back of his head brings them together as close as possible. Not leaving even a breath of space between their bodies—lips to lips, chest to chest, groin to groin. Fingertips knead into his side as if he's made of dough and Yeosang feels himself melting rapidly.

The movement of his hips start up again without even realizing after Mingi bucks up from the slightest chase of friction. Both of them going slack-jaw, panting into each other's mouths.

"Be with me," Mingi breathes out, fingers tightening around Yeosang's hair. "Please, Yeosang-ah. I-I want you—to be with you."

In the week since Yeosang promised he'd talk to Mingi, he thought logistically about how any of it could work if Mingi felt the same way. How they could be together without running the risk of ruining anything for the group. They resigned their contracts last year for another seven and if things go wrong between them, it would fuck with so much more than Yeosang could possibly fathom.

Yet he talked with Seonghwa again afterwards, and the elder hit him with the honesty that they're more likely to cause issues now by not admitting the truth to one another, and continuing on with their nonsense.

It weighed heavy in his mind, but Yeosang knew he was right, for he thought the same thing at several moments in time. When this all first began, now, and every time in between.

"Yes, Mingi-ya—God—I want you so bad," Yeosang agrees without hesitation, bringing his own hands to cage around Mingi's face. "In every way possible—not just like this. Wanna be your boyfriend—hold your hand, go on dates, kiss you like you're mine."

"Then do it—kiss me like I'm yours."

Yeosang has always been one to shy away from a challenge, especially if there's some kind of risk involved, but in this moment, there's only a reward in front of him.

This time it's Yeosang that surges forward and finally captures Mingi's lips between his own.

He'll never get sick of kissing Mingi, Yeosang thinks as the hand in his hair tightens even more, tugging him impossibly closer. The hand on his waist moving to wrap entirely around his backside, fingertips digging into the opposite side now.

There's a desire burning deeper with this one, now that they both know their wants are reciprocated. It's no longer a game of push and pull—Mingi pushing forward without fear and Yeosang pulling away when things start to feel too real. Instead, it's an equilibrium of both parties chasing each other at the same speed, staying side by side for once and for all.

Between Yeosang grinding down, and Mingi bucking up absentmindedly, the latter is dissolving into a puddle of breathy moans against Yeosang's lips. Allowing them to be swallowed whole. And when Yeosang takes the chance to lick into Mingi's mouth again, he feels the heat in his groin spreading up his abdomen when the other twirls their tongues together.

It's only brief though until Yeosang presses down at just the right angle and Mingi involuntarily throws his head back, releasing a moan at an octave he has yet to hear come from the man before him.

"F-Fuck fuck, I'm so close, already." Mingi pants as his head rests against the back of the couch, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure builds rapidly.

"Do you wanna come like this?" Yeosang asks, not letting up. Not until Mingi says the word. Even though he was hoping for more, he's more than content if this is all the other wants for now.

"Wan' you to fuck me," Mingi says clearly, voice booming off of the walls of the dorm. "But if you stop now, I'll cry."

Yeosang blinks as his brain tries to comprehend the contradicting statements.

"Think you'll be able to come twice? Like this and again with my dick in your ass?" He finally lands on, hoping it meets Mingi's demands.

It must, because the cracked whine that escapes from his pinched vocal chords afterwards seems like a confirmation more than anything else.

"Is that a yes, baby?" Yeosang asks, picking up the pace at which his hips grind down, beginning to unravel himself as his own climax approaches. Even if he ends up coming in his pants as well, it won't be hard to get his cock up again. Not when Mingi already looks so pleasantly fucked out and they haven't really done much. "You wanna come in your pants like the needy thing you are? From the way my cock is rubbing against yours?"

"God, yes—please, Yeosang-ah… Need to, so badly." Mingi cries as his head lolls forward, eyes still pinched shut. "Haven't—haven't come in so long. Been waitin' for you."

The sudden confession goes right to Yeosang's head and cock, and suddenly he himself feels like he won't last much longer.

"Fuck, you missed me that much, Mingi-ya" Yeosang asks and the other nods weakly, but that won't suffice. Yeosang needs to hear the verbal confirmation. His hand lands on the tip of Mingi's chin again, bringing their faces close together again. "Look at me—use your words."

He watches as Mingi pries his eyes open and swallows down a moan from the command. Pants falling heavily off of his tongue that rests against the inside of his lower lip—as if he's a dog trying to cool off.

"Y-Yes… I couldn'… Couldn't get off—even when thinkin' about you." Mingi's words slur as they fall from his tongue, dripping with filth as his chest continues to heave. "I need you—only you."

Yeosang himself struggles to maintain his composure when Mingi's words ring throughout his head, echoing off of his skull. It's one thing to hear something like that, but to know it's the unfiltered truth is entirely different.

"Please—I'm so close, Yeosang-ah—I can't—" Mingi stutters, eyes struggling to remain open as Yeosang still holds his chin in place.

"I never said you couldn't." Yeosang leans in, his mouth hovering over Mingi's as they breathe into each other's mouths. Separate breathes becoming one. "Come for me, Mingi-ya."

All it takes is for Yeosang to press down one more time before he feels Mingi's own efforts falter. The features on his face scrunch against his own accord as his orgasm washes over him at last, spilling into his sweatpants—spoiling them instantly. The hand in Yeosang's hair pulls at his strands as every last drop of cum spurts from his cock, and Yeosang lets a moan rip from the pain.

"That's it, baby," Yeosang whines as he rides Mingi through the aftershocks, relishing in the tight grip on his waist as well. Knowing there's going to be fingertip-shaped bruises there by tomorrow morning.

He had no intentions of coming twice as well today, but with his own release being just on the precipice, Yeosang struggles to not use Mingi to chase his own orgasm.

It takes him by surprise when the hand wrapped around his waist leaves, and he sees—out of his peripheral—a hand reaching into the front of his waistband. The rush of cold air that hits his burning hot cock sends a gasp rushing out from his lungs. He has no time to prepare for Mingi's hand wrapping around him, his thumb pressing into the slit of his tip.

"Holy fuck—Mingi—" His jaw falls slack from the physical pressure, unable to control the moan falling from his lips as the man smears the precum over the entirety of his tip, bringing it down onto his shaft. "S-Shit, don't stop."

But he does for a second to bring his hand underneath of his mouth, letting drool spill into his palm. Enough for a puddle to form in the wide expanse of Mingi's hand. Any other time, Yeosang would be disgusted, but something about the concept of Mingi not even needing to spit turns him on even more—which he didn't think could be possible right now.

Mingi's hand wraps back around him and slides carefully over Yeosang's fully exposed and reddened cock. Yeosang watches as his hand swallows it whole, and he shudders over the sensation racking through his nerves. There's a bit of dryness from the rapidly drying saliva, but when it mixes with the precum dripping from his tip, it becomes like a slip-n-slide.

"Oh my God—fuck—Mingi, I'm so—" Yeosang stutters over his words, feeling his brain actively turn to mush from the contact. Between the roughness of Mingi's palm, and the careful strokes around him, it's all too much.

"Come on, Yeosang-ah," Mingi whispers into the space between them, a low, deep growl emanating from his throat. "The faster you come for me, the faster I can ride you. It's been so long—I know you miss feeling me clench around you. Nice and tight."

And he does—oh God, he misses it so much. The way he fills up Mingi and the way he melts into a puddle of whimpers before Yeosang even pushes all the way in. How Mingi looks when he's fucked out beneath him, above him, in front of him—where ever.

Beneath his lap, Yeosang can already feel Mingi growing hard again, despite having only come not that long ago—and it drives him insane. If they had infinite stamina, and all the time in the world, Yeosang would drop to his knees right after and stuff his mouth full with nothing but Mingi—let him fuck his mouth until he spilled down his throat.

He can taste his own sweat dripping into his mouth as he bucks up into Mingi's hand, feeling the heat in his abdomen come to a boil. He's never lasted this long after they've gone some time without doing anything, but a part of him is holding on so it doesn't end yet. Even if he knows he'll get worked up again right after. Something about wanting to make their first real time last as long as possible.

With one more press of Mingi's thumb against his slit, Yeosang can't hold it back any longer, and he's spilling into the other's hand. The pressure in his gut bursting, cum squirting from his cock as Mingi's hand works him through the release. Keeping his strokes just as soft and delicate as before, making the effects last twice as long as usual.

A high pitched whine escapes from Yeosang, and he throws his head back, nearly falling off of Mingi's lap, but the hand still knotted in his hair prevents him from doing so. White floods his vision as he squeezes his eyes shut, as well as his muscles go from contracting to dissolving into putty.

"Fuck—that's it, Yeosang-ah." Mingi's hand lets up when he begins to feel Yeosang softening, and the man in his lap drops his head onto his shoulder. Chest heaving as he recovers.

Yeosang feels a set of lips press softly against the side of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

"So pretty. My baby's so pretty like this." Yeosang hears Mingi whisper, the growl no longer laced between his words this time. Instead, his tone is soft and airy, like a feather floating through the air.

Where there were fingers wound tightly around his locks, Yeosang notices they've sense unraveled and now offer gentle caresses against the surface. Patting any of the unkemptness down. Fingernails scratching lightly against the nape of his neck.

"Your baby…" Yeosang mimes, voice raspy as he slowly comes back to his senses. His head has no intention of moving just yet—every muscle in his body feeling like jelly.

They stay like that for a minute, or two, and Yeosang wishes time could pause indefinitely. That they can stay just like this for as long as he wants—as long as Mingi wants. Before they have to press resume and continue on with their lives.

"We can stop here, if you need to," Mingi speaks softly, his hand now rubbing up and down Yeosang's bare back, fingertips tracing down each knot on his spine.

At last, Yeosang is able to feel his arms and legs again, and he picks his head up. Staring at Mingi with a daze in his eyes, even though he's fully here in the moment.

"No." He shakes his head surely. "I want you—need you, Mingi."

His hands snake underneath the hem of Mingi's shirt and wrap around his bare waist. The contrast of Yeosang's cool hands against his warm body cause a hitch in his breath, mouth falling slightly agape.

"Need to feel the way my fingers work open your tight, little hole. Hear how you get fucked out only from them, not even from my dick." Yeosang leans forward and lets his words fan out over Mingi's mouth in front of him. "Watch the way you squirm when I finally press in, relishing in every little sound that falls from your lips. Begging for more when your impatient little ass can't even wait for me to bottom out."

Underneath of him, Yeosang feels Mingi twitch from his words alone, and a heat sweeps across his skin again.

It was jarring at first—learning that Mingi likes to feel degraded to an extent, and Yeosang felt anxious about going to far, but the other always reassured him afterwards. Now, it comes to him like second nature. And watching Mingi shrink beneath his demeanor is direct fuel to the fire reigniting within his gut.

Yeosang leans forward and presses an open-mouth kiss against Mingi's lips. He pulls back as quickly as it happens, but Mingi chases after him, desperate for more.

"Do you want me to fuck you here? Or in your bed, princess?" Yeosang asks, head tilting to the side. A blush creeps over Mingi's cheeks from the name alone—not even from the question.

"Here…" His voice is barely above a whisper, but Yeosang hears it clear as day.

"Of course you do." Yeosang smirks. "Of course you wanna break in the new couch Seonghwa got for you guys—after we actually broke the last one. You still never told him, did you?"

Mingi swallows and shakes his head no.

"Well, he probably knows now. Trying to get rid of the imagery of you fucking me so hard into the cushions that the legs snapped clean off—wondering how that could even happen, until he finally puts two and two together." Yeosang pulls his hands off of Mingi's torso, basking in the slight whimper the latter lets out from the loss of touch.

Once again, he feels Mingi twitch beneath his own already half-hard cock—getting turned on from his own words and premonitions, and the way Mingi is reacting to them. This is something new.

"I'll be right back." Yeosang removes himself from Mingi's lap entirely and watches as the other looks up at him with those big, doe eyes. His eyebrows worrying, as well. "When I come back, I expect the rest of your clothes to be gone, can you do that for me, princess?"

Mingi nods, full of fervor, a blush sweeping across his cheeks again. Yeosang takes note and stores the pet name into his mental folder of things Mingi likes to be called. Even if the others joke about it from time to time, it's evident it has an affect on him, and Yeosang is definitely going to take advantage of it.

"Good boy. Sit tight." Yeosang reaches forward and cups at his cheek, his heart skipping a beat when Mingi melts into the touch.

Before he walks back to Mingi's room to grab the essentials, he takes his phone out of his pocket and shucks his pants off the rest of the way, leaving them to litter the living room floor. For a brief second, the device in his hand lights up and he catches a glimpse of a few texts from Seonghwa—making a mental note to read them later.

It should feel embarrassing, walking around a dorm that isn't Yeosang's own, entirely in the nude, but it feels no different than if it was his own. Except, walking past San and Seonghwa's rooms on the way to Mingi's brings a buzz of reality to him that he didn't expect.

They're going to have to have a long talk about all of this afterwards—him and Mingi. That in its own is the scariest part about all of this. Confessing they both want each other, not just in a sexual way, was actually the easiest part, he's beginning to realize. Now, they'll have to navigate a relationship, knowing it won't ever be private. Not when they're celebrities—locally and globally.

Once he's in Mingi's room, he navigates through the man's drawers like their his own, finding the bottle of lube and box of condoms that he stashes in his underwear drawer, tucked away where no one should find them except himself—and Yeosang, apparently.

He makes his way back to the living room, and just like Yeosang expected, Mingi is waiting for him on the couch, completely undressed. His knees tucked up towards his chest in an effort to feel less exposed in his own apartment.

Yeosang tosses the box and bottle on the one end of the couch as he approaches, eyeing Mingi's figure in its entirety.

"You listen so well, such a good boy," Yeosang says as he stands in front of Mingi, placing a hand on his knee and pushing it down so his foot lands on the floor.

It's only then he realizes why Mingi had himself folded like that. Not to feel less exposed, no, that's actually very unlike him. Instead, it's to hide the mess of partially dried cum over his pelvis.

"Oh, Mingi-ya…" Yeosang coos at the sight, enjoying the way Mingi attempts to bring his leg back up.

"Stop… I'm embarrassed…"

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about." Yeosang pushes his other leg down and straddles the man again, their bare cocks bumping together this time around. Both of them gasping from the nanosecond of contact. "It's really flattering, actually, that I made you cum that much."

Yeosang looks down at Mingi's pelvis and inhales. Taking his index finger and wiping up a glob that sits prettily on his shift, bringing the finger to his lips and swirling his tongue over the digit. Lapping up every little bit.

The entire time, Mingi watches with what Yeosang can only assume is a bated breath stuck in his chest.

"Fuck, I forgot how good you taste."

Mingi throws his head back against the couch. "You can't say things like that to me, I'll go insane."

"Like you already haven't?" Yeosang quips, and when Mingi sits there quietly, he chuckles and stands back up for a second. "Yeah, I thought so. Now, lay down for me, baby."

As always, Mingi obliges, and stretches out across the couch, his head resting against the throw pillow on the opposite end from where this whole encounter began. One leg propping up against the back cushions, the other spreading out and his foot landing on the floor.

"If it's too much, let me know, okay?" Yeosang settles into the space between Mingi's legs, reaching for the bottle of lube on the cushion behind him.

"It'll never be enough, Yeosang-ah." He responds, but when Yeosang doesn't crack a smile, he doubles down. "Sorry, I will. But you too—let me know."

"I will."

Yeosang leans forward and leaves an innocent kiss on Mingi's lips, who reciprocates it without hesitation. It doesn't turn heated, but the innocence is gone after Yeosang's hand rests over Mingi's peck, and his thumb rolls over the perked up nipple. The gasp that falls from Mingi's lips is when Yeosang's lips depart from the other's, trailing down to his jaw, his neck, and over his chest. Feeling the way the man tenses and shivers beneath the touch of his fingers and lips.

His kisses grow sloppier and sloppier the further down he goes. Teeth grazing over Mingi's skin, his tongue lapping up the salty taste on the surface. When his mouth is parallel with his thumb, Yeosang crosses the distance and sucks on the rosy bud.

"Ah—Ah—" Mingi whines, arching his back as Yeosang's tongue swirls around his nipple. Meanwhile Yeosang's other hand finds the opposite one and mimics his earlier actions. As soon as he has himself double occupied, he feels Mingi squirming beneath him, whimpers leaking from his slightly parted lips.

Mingi's leg that hangs off of the couch cages Yeosang in as the sensitivity overtakes him, his muscles constricting from the pleasure searing through his body.

With Yeosang draped over Mingi's body, it's hard to ignore the man's cock pressing firmly against him, already leaking between the both of them. The hand that isn't busy reaches down between their bodies, and laps up the beading precum with his thumb.

A fresh spill of gasps and moans expel themselves from Mingi over the touch. "F-Fuck, too much, 'Sang-ah."

The man is panting already, chest falling and rising rapidly. Yeosang removes his mouth from Mingi's nipple with a pop, watching as he visibly relaxes. Still, Yeosang can feel the precum leaking from Mingi's cock all over hand.

Finally, he continues on with his trail of kisses down Mingi's torso, zig-zagging, not going in a straight line. As he approaches below his belly button, Yeosang feels a primal response take over him his nose brushes against the trail of hair traveling up from his pelvis. They haven't had any schedules lately where they've needed to flash their abs, meaning Mingi hasn't needed to groom that part of himself.

His hands splay over Mingi's hips as he buries his nose into the hair, making sure to leave plenty of kisses. "God, you have no idea how hot you are."

He says the words into Mingi's skin, knowing it comes out muffled, but he also knows the other hears him anyway—based on the way his stomach sucks inwards from the compliment.

"Don't even try to deny it, Mingi-ya." Yeosang trails his way all the down to the base of Mingi's cock, his nose buried in the sea of unkempt hair. "Every part of you is perfect, especially your cock."

There's a devil and an angel on either of his shoulders. The devil is telling him to suck every last drop out of Mingi until he's nothing but a whimpering mess beneath him, trapping Yeosang's head with his thick strong thighs. Meanwhile the angel on his other shoulder is telling him to hurry along so he can stick his dick inside of Mingi's ass already.

He listens to the angel, this time.

"Next time, I want you to fuck my throat so hard I won't be able to sing." Yeosang says, leaning back on his heels, watching the way Mingi's cock twitches in response.

"What did I say about saying things like that to me!" Mingi's hands reach up and cover his face while Yeosang picks up the bottle of lube again, uncapping it and squirting a glob onto his first and middle finger.

"God forbid a man wants his boyfriend to use him a little bit." The title slips off of his tongue as he begins to warm the lube up with his other hand, freezing as the realization dawns on him. "Shit—sorry, we didn't really talk yet, but I just assumed—"

"Yeosang-ah, of course we're boyfriends." Mingi cuts him off as he props himself up on his elbows. "We'll talk more about it later, but I'm really going to need you to start working me open, like yesterday."

With the panic subsiding as quickly as it came about, Yeosang's softened expression vanishes in the blink of an eye as his finger lands on the area outside of Mingi's rim. Feeling accomplished from the way Mingi already inhales sharply and tenses up.

"Like this?" Yeosang asks as he traces a circle around the opening. After a few laps, he finally dips his finger into the tight heat, teasingly stopping at only his first knuckle. "Or like this?"

"You're such a fucking tease," Mingi spits out, his eyebrows furrowing together from the pressure already.

Yeosang feigns genuine disbelief over the statement.

"Watch who you're talking to, princess. I can leave you high and dry right now." Yeosang bites back as he leans forward on his knees.

"You wouldn't. Not when you're just as desperate to get your dick wet," Mingi retorts, smirking as if he got the final word in.

Yeosang lets him believe that until he finally presses his finger all the way in without warning, and Mingi's elbows give out, his back crashing against the throw pillow.

Quietly, Yeosang snickers to himself as he pulls his finger back out, and thrusts it back in, repeating the motion over and over. Making sure to curl the tip once it's submerged all the way, aiming for Mingi's sweet spot.

"Fuck, you're so tight," He says feeling the way Mingi clenches snugly around his lone finger. The man writhing within his skin already from the smooth glide over his walls.

Mingi doesn't respond verbally as Yeosang keeps working the same finger in and out of him, keeping a consistent pace, only allowing breathy whines to escape from his vocal chords. That being one of two sounds filling the living room—the other being the squelching of the lube.

"Add another," Mingi eventually demands, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Are you sure?"

"Please," He begs, and Yeosang obliges.

Pulling out to the very tip of his finger, Yeosang lines up the second one and pushes in slowly, feeling the way Mingi's body stretches around his two digits. Watching how he sinks into the couch cushions from the new added pressure and listening to the filthy sounds filtering past his lips.

"Oh-oh fuck—" Mingi's jaw falls open as his head thrashes against the pillow beneath his head. "Feels so good, keep going—"

And who is Yeosang to not oblige. Despite the slight resistance at first, Yeosang thrusts his fingers all the way in, out, and in again. Relishing in the heat that swallows them whole as he keeps up the pace.

"Oh my God, right there—p-please!" Mingi whines erratically when Yeosang's fingers press once, twice, and three times against his prostate.

Every single sound coming from Mingi is like music to his ears, and goes straight to his cock pressing upright against his abdomen now—fully hard once more. Beads of precum forming on his time every time the sound of Mingi's moans fill his eardrums. Sort of like how every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings—or whatever that phrase is.

Losing all control, Mingi's legs entrap Yeosang again, ankles attempting to lock behind the other's back, yet he's scooted too far away right now.

"You're already this fucked out on just two of my fingers," Yeosang begins to say his own heart rate beginning to increase from the slight workout. "How are you gonna be when I finally split you open?"

"Don' care—a-ah, shit—need another, now," Mingi cries out when Yeosang keeps pressing at just the right angle. "Please, 'Sang-ah—"

At this point, Mingi is nothing but a leaking mess. Spurts—rather than beads—of precum leaking down his tip and onto his shaft. Eventually trailing all the way down to add to the mess of dried cum from earlier tangled in his pubes. It's such a sight, and Yeosang's mouth continues to water, resisting every urge not to take Mingi all the way down to his base.

When he finally pushes the third finger in, Mingi gasps at the fullness inside of him. Back arching off of the couch as Yeosang scrapes against his walls. "Fuckfuckfuck, s-so good, 'Sang-ah. Oh God—"

Yeosang himself is growing antsy hearing Mingi fall apart like this, wanting to speed things up along, but also not wanting to hurt the other. Considering the other is still so tight with even three fingers, Yeosang is beginning to believe Mingi hasn't touched himself like this in God knows how long. Truly being unable to get off unless it's from Yeosang in one way or another.

"I can't—I'm close, 'Sang-ah." Mingi gasps as his eyes roll towards the back of his head. "Ngh—Need your cock in me, now—"

"Are you sure? I don't wanna hurt—"

"I'll be okay—just p-please—"Hearing Mingi beg so politely keeps his own dick leaking plenty, but he'd never admit it. At least not right now. "Wanna come on your cock—wan' you to fuck me stupid."

While he's still thrusting his three fingers in and out, Yeosang reaches behind him blindly and grabs the box of condoms after a couple of tries. It isn't until he pulls one out of the box with one hand, the foil crinkling, that Mingi's eyes shoot open from the sound alone.

"N-No! Wanna feel you—need to feel you," Mingi pants heavily as Yeosang's fingers still inside of him for the first time in a while.

It doesn't take much to convince Yeosang to drop the condom in his free hand. And it's almost like he can feel Mingi relax once he does.

Though, it doesn't last when he removes his fingers from Mingi's hole, hearing a reaction immediately from the man in front of him. Noticing how his hole clenches around nothing in an instant. "Fuck! Warn me next time, you ass."

Yeosang snickers as he picks up the bottle of lube and drizzles it over the head of his cock, the coolness causing him to gasp in contrast to the heat radiating off of his member. He caps the bottle and throws it behind him hopefully once and for all. Wrapping his own hand around himself, shivering at the premise of finally seeking relief.

His hand works himself up and down, lathering the lube over every possible bit of skin, warming up the lube as well. He loses himself in the pleasure of his fist gliding smoothly over his tip and down his shaft—soft moans falling from his lips as his eyes close shut.

"As hot as it is to watch you jerk yourself off, if you don't get in me now, I might cry," Mingi says from the other end of the couch, his own cock red from neglect.

"I thought you wanted to ride me," Yeosang says more as a statement rather than a question.

Suddenly, Mingi's eyes light up in remembrance. "Fuck, I forgot I said that. Of course I wanna ride you."

"Wow, I don't think I ever fucked you stupid with only my fingers before," Yeosang quips as Mingi tucks his leg up and brings it around Yeosang's body. Moving to stand up, only slightly wincing as his ass brushes against the cushions briefly.

Mingi pushes Yeosang against the back of the couch cushions with only one hand, landing on his knees on either side of the other, but not sitting down just yet.

"Well, I guess you can cross it off of your bucket-list, then." Mingi towers over Yeosang, bringing two of his fingers to rest on the underside of Yeosang's chin. Tilting his head up before connecting their lips into another kiss.

Yeosang lets his hands fall naturally at the smallest part of Mingi's waist, while Mingi's hands move to cradle around Yeosang's face instead—keeping control of the angle at which he further deepens the kiss.

His heart swells in his chest with the way Mingi holds him so carefully. Knowing now that Mingi has probably felt the same way the entire time as well, brings more sense to the man's gentleness before, during and after. It's easy to get lost in the moment, and go too hard, but it's never been like that with Mingi. Never once did Yeosang fear he might walk away scathed, but with his previous hookups, there had been instances.

Their touches and kisses have never been on the surface level. There had been intent further down than either realized, and Yeosang feels like such a fool for not noticing until now. It's not like he can go back in time and tell himself either, so he needs to learn to live with the regret of not knowing any sooner.

He almost doesn't notice one of Mingi's hands leaving his face to grab ahold of his cock to line it up with his entrance, all while they're still kissing. It might be one of the hottest things Mingi has done yet, and it sends a shock down his core over the realization.

Pulling back, only a string of saliva being the only proof of their kiss, Yeosang watches Mingi as he finally sinks down on his cock—the muscles in Mingi's face contorting out of nothing but pure pleasure from the stretch.

"That's it, go slow, baby," Yeosang praises Mingi while struggling to keep himself under control as his cock is enveloped in the tight heat. Embracing him entirely.

All he can do is sit there, with his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle any moans as Mingi stretches around him, taking his time before bottoming out entirely. Enjoying the subtle noises that do come from the other in the process.

"Feels so good—how you fill me up, fuck," Mingi says when he finally sits flush against Yeosang's lap, hands on the other's shoulders for support.

"You okay?" Yeosang asks when Mingi only sits there for a moment or two, panting heavily.

A curt nod is his only response when his jaw is hanging on by a thread, it seems like.

"I won't move unless you tell me to, I don't wanna—"

"You're not going to hurt me, Yeosang-ah," Mingi tells him, even though there's no way he can be confident. Yeosang believes him regardless.

It's brutal—when Mingi eventually drags himself back up, the both of them hissing from entirely different sensations. He brings himself almost to the top before sinking back down, and Yeosang ends up digging his fingertips into Mingi's sides harder than he intends to.

"Shit," Yeosang curses when Mingi keeps up with a slow, but steady pace. His walls clenching around Yeosang and dragging on every part of his cock, rendering him useless already. "Oh-oh fuck, you're so tight, I—"

"Mhm, need you to move—with me, 'Sang-ah," Mingi pleads, his eyes clenched shut still as he bottoms out again, unable to pick his jaw up when pleasure begins to build back up again.

Without wasting any time, Yeosang shifts down slightly, earning a gasp from Mingi in the process, so he can bring his hips upward more effectively. The first time he thrusts upwards when Mingi goes down, he just near sees stars. Throwing his head back against the couch at the same time Mingi drops his head forward.

"Oh my God, yes—like that, 'Sang-ah, fuck!" Mingi cries out when Yeosang repeats it again, hitting against his prostate this time.

They pick up a momentum together—Yeosang thrusting upward at the same time Mingi drops himself down just enough, pulling back, and repeating. Each drag of Yeosang's cock against Mingi's wall ignites the flame in his gut again. In the same sense, each time Yeosang slams against Mingi's prostate, he earns an earnest moan from the other, and gets to witness Mingi leak all over the both of them.

Soon enough, the only sounds filling the living room are their own moans, and the slapping of Yeosang's groin against Mingi's ass. Each decibel ricocheting off of every wall, echoing down the halls, and hopefully not into the neighboring apartments. They're entirely alone, so there's no reason to hold back, as opposed to the other times any of the other members might be sleeping next door.

The couch beneath them shakes with every thrust from Yeosang, and with every bounce from Mingi on the former's cock. It knocks against the wall behind Yeosang and there's a subtle fear in the back of his mind that this one might actually break too, but it disappears as soon as it forms when the knot in his groin begins winding tighter.

"Taking me so, so well, baby, fuck," Yeosang grits through his teeth. "Can't believe you're all mine."

"Yes, yes—ngh, all yours." Mingi parrots from above him completely lost in the pleasure, but still knowing what he's agreeing to.

Yeosang's hands travel down from Mingi's waist and land on his ass, cupping the plump, bare cheeks, digging his fingertips into the fleshy surface. Spreading them apart so he can reach even deeper into the other. It must do something because the next thrust after the fact, Mingi dissolves into a mess of broken whimpers.

"I'm so— shitshitshit, keep going, p-please!" Mingi begs, his voice cracking on damn near every syllable as Yeosang tears into him.

"I haven't even touched you and you're close already?" Yeosang asks in a teasing tone, but it hardly comes out that way when he's a mess of groans himself.

Mingi can't even respond properly, only able to shake his head in agreement. Although, it's more of an inconsistent bobbing if anything. From the way Yeosang thrusts relentlessly into him from below, shaking the poor man's body as if he's a building during an earthquake.

"Fuck, t-that's so hot, Mingi-ya." Yeosang throws his head back against the couch once more when he feels the all too familiar of blinding hot pleasure coiling in his gut for the second time today. "Coming only from my cock filling you up."

"Only you—" Mingi starts, but a wanton moan cuts him off, ripping through his chest without warning. "Ah-ah! I'm so, so close 'Sang-ah, fuck, d-don't stop!"

Of course, Yeosang has no plans of doing that, not when he's toe-to-toe with Mingi in terms of reaching his orgasm.

"Only I what?" Yeosang repeats the beginning of Mingi's last statement, needing to know what the other had to say. He pants heavily as he waits for a response, but Mingi loses himself in pleasure with the way Yeosang is relentless in regards to slamming against his prostate.

"Can fuck me t-this good—" He finishes the thought at once, and it goes directly to Yeosang's throbbing cock.

He's not going to last much longer, and from the looks of it, neither is Mingi. Both of them mere moments away from climaxing together.

"I'm so close, Mingi-ya," Yeosang admits, his hips beginning to stutter. The couch beneath his ass is shaking with every fervent thrust of his hips, letting out a squeak now as the joints move in a way they're not meant to.

"M-Me too, fuck, I'm going crazy." Mingi is losing his mind. "N-Need you to fill me up. Make me yours."

"You've been mine, since day one," Yeosang manages to get out, fighting back the threatening release ready to snap at any second. The last thing he wants to do is come first, and not get Mingi off from just his cock, like he's determined to do.

When Mingi doesn't respond, Yeosang keeps going. Sinking himself further into the couch cushions, reaching into Mingi with an even deeper angle than before. He's met in response with high pitched whines from the other he's only heard once before, and that was earlier today.

"Come on, baby, come on my cock like the needy thing you are."

"Oh-Oh, I'm gonna—fuck!" Mingi cries out as Yeosang slams into him one last time before he's finally spurting ropes of cum all over Yeosang's abdomen and chest. Moans drooling out of his mouth like it's all he knows to do as he's still pounded into relentlessly.

Yeosang fucks him hard and earnestly through his orgasm, continuing to slam into his prostate as dribbles of jizz continue to squirt from his nearly-spent cock. Milking him of every last possible drop like it's his only job on this planet.

As soon as Mingi's orgasm washed over him, he clenched down, on Yeosang's cock, sending the man into overdrive, eagerly chasing after his own much-needed release.

"Shit, you fucking—oh my God—" Yeosang grits out as he himself gets thrown into a blinding white pleasure.

The coil in his gut snapping in an instant, releasing an ungodly amount of cum into Mingi as he continues to fuck up into the man falling into a fit of overstimulation. His head throws itself backwards on its own accord, and his eyes screw shut as he ruts into Mingi with every little bit of energy he has left in his body.

He hears Mingi whimper when Yeosang's orgasm first rocks him, and feels the way the man continues to clench down on him unwillingly.

Yeosang hardly notices when Mingi completely slumps forward against him after he finally comes down from the post-orgasm high. The other's chest heaving at a rate that would be concerning if they didn't just over-exert themselves in the best possible way.

Where the room was once filled with sounds of their earnest vigor, and desperate noises, all that remains now are their over exasperated breaths.

"Are you okay, baby?" Yeosang cranes his neck to get a better look at Mingi resting atop of him. A hand slides up and down his back, fingertips scratching lightly across the surface of his skin. He can feel Mingi shiver beneath his touch.

"Mhm." Is all that Mingi says, barely audible. Hot breath expelling from his mouth over Yeosang's chest, reheating the skin.

When he finally picks his head up, Yeosang's hand cradles his face immediately. Thumb brushing over the dusty pink of his cheeks. They stare at each other for possibly a millionth of a second before Yeosang leans in and places a kiss on Mingi's lips. His eyes fall shut when Mingi melts into the touch, reciprocating by moving his own mouth against Yeosang's.

Even in this moment, where they're disgustingly sweaty, and covered in each other's secretions, all Yeosang can feel is an overwhelming sense of adoration for the other man.

"I really like you, Mingi-ya." Yeosang pulls back from the kiss with a smile on his lips.

"I really like you, Yeosang-ah," Mingi responds with, already leaning back in for another kiss.

Where it seems Yeosang believes he won't ever get sick of kissing Mingi, it's beginning to seem possible for the other way around as well.

Eventually, they pry themselves apart, and stumble into the way-too-small shower, washing each other with a new found sense of carefulness. Mingi lets Yeosang take care of him, gladly succumbing to the gentle touches and caresses after the fact.

There's still concerns polluting Yeosang's mind over all of this, but in the moment where he can only see Mingi, it's hard to let the negativity take over. Only being able to bask in the comfort of his feelings being reciprocated. No longer holding himself back on every touch he wish he could place on the other when they're out of that head space.

He hopes the newness of it all never fades, even if they have been technically together for almost a year now. There's new experiences in store for both of them, ones they've never been able to bridge before, until now.

As they're cleaning up their littered clothes in the living room, Yeosang's phone chimes from the coffee table. It's only then he remembered about Seonghwa's texts from earlier, so he walks over and picks up the device.

Seonghwa

Let us know when it's safe to come back
Just please don't break the couch again
I know it was you two… Filthy animals

Yeosang…?

If you two aren't together by the end of this
I swear

Yeosang chuckles from where he stands beside the coffee table, able to sense the level of stress from Seonghwa through the words alone.

"What's so funny?" Mingi asks as he walks over, his cum-soaked sweatpants in hand.

"Seonghwa was blowing up my phone." Yeosang turns to face him, shoving the device in the pocket of the pants Mingi lent him. They're a bit too big—he's practically drowning in them—but it feels comforting to wear the other man's clothes like this. "Also, he knows we broke the couch."

Every ounce of color in Mingi's face drains as soon as the words come out, and Yeosang bursts out laughing. Though, the other only stands there, his arm dropping to his side, the sweatpants nearly falling from his grasp.

"This isn't funny!" Mingi cries out, bringing an arm up and over his face dramatically.

"Oh, baby, come here." Yeosang reaches with his arms out, beckoning Mingi over, who complies begrudgingly.

Yeosang throws his arms over Mingi's shoulders, hooking his hands behind the man's neck, and feels the large, sturdy hands settle on his waist. He looks up at him with doe-like eyes, feeling his heart swell once again. Yet, Mingi can only hold eye contact for so long before he grows shy and looks away.

"You're so cute like this," Yeosang comments, and Mingi shakes his head no—to which Yeosang reaches down and grabs ahold of his jaw with his hand, squishing the man's face between his thumb and other fingers. "My cute, princess Mingi."

A fresh shade of pink finds its way across Mingi's cheeks again as a sheepish smile splits his lips in two.

Dropping his hand to Mingi's chest, Yeosang leans forward on his tippy toes, capturing the other man's lips with his own once more.

He'll never get tired of this feeling blossoming through his chest, now that he gets to call Mingi his.

· · ──────⩇⩇:⩇⩇────── · ·

Yeosang

Coast is clear
And yes, we're together now
Thank you, hyung

Seonghwa

Oh, thank God
That's really great, Yeosang-ah
I'm happy for you two ♡

Please tell me the couch is okay…

Yeosang !!!