Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time Mingi meets Yunho, he's taken by surprise.

He's late, caught up trying to talk Arin down from a situation she'd hyper-analysed, sobbing down the phone while he'd scrambled for his shoes, grabbed his sunglasses. Tried to lock the door as quietly as possible so she didn't hear the thud through the phone line and ask where he was going, what he was doing.

Maybe it makes him a shitty person for not devoting his full attention to her, but it's not an uncommon situation anymore. He'd grown apathetic, and he hates himself for it.

He barely sees the guy at first, tucked next to San on a bench seat, but then he slots next to him and notices that the guy is blushing, a pretty pink all up his ears. He blinks.

"You're Yunho then?" he asks, dragging the name from the back of his memories, something in the group chat, something about a new guy. He reaches out and the brunette man takes it, nodding shyly.

He's really pretty. Like, really fucking pretty. Mingi drops the hoodie cord he's chewing on in favour of smiling.

"Nice to meet you!" Yunho tracks his lips closely as he speaks, maybe due to the venue's noise, and he smiles back.

He's beautiful, actually, Mingi realises with a pang. It's not like he hasn't noticed hot guys in passing before, but this is the first time he's been hit in the face with being attracted to a real man. It's a little jarring.

"Yeah," the guy says back, through his sweet smile, "You too."

A little later, after more drinks, he glances over to Yunho again, unable to stop himself. He doesn't understand why he can't stop looking. Something about him is captivating, making Mingi stare at him whenever the brunette is interacting with the others in the group, something that the pink-haired man can't quite place.

Yunho's already looking at him, this time, when their eyes meet, and he blushes, looking caught. Mingi doesn't know what the flutter of his heart means.

"You having fun?" he asks quietly, for something to say, to distract himself from the way his chest feels a little tight, and Yunho nods immediately, eager, like a puppy.

"Yeah, thanks for like, adopting me, or whatever," the guy says softly, ears a bit red, and Mingi can't stop the soft laugh that falls out of him, endeared instantly.

"Yeah, you're part of the group forever now, bad luck," he teases, slapping the brunette on the shoulder reflexively, like one of the guys. He wonders if he's overstepped a boundary, considering he barely knows the man.

San shouts something, noisy and distracting, and he gets torn out of his own thoughts.

Mingi doesn't know why he can't stop thinking about the new guy's pretty face, the gentle wisps of cologne he caught, the feeling of his thinner thigh pressed against Mingi's.

When he gets back to the flat, he's got four missed calls from Arin and so many text messages that he feels a headache coming on. He pinches the bridge of his nose, calls her back.

"What?" her voice sounds a bit muffled on the other end of the phone, and Mingi frowns, chewing the skin around his thumb absently.

"You called me. I was wondering if you're okay?" he imagines whatever drama was happening has already passed, but he feels the responsibility to check up anyway.

"Oh, I'm with…" the line crackles a little. "Dylan's here, Gi, I've gotta go, we're gonna go get some food and stuff."

"Oh right, okay," Mingi mumbles, and he's not sure if he's relieved or hurt. Maybe both. He feels abruptly replaceable, and despite everything, it stings. He sinks onto the edge of his bed, staring at the mural that Erin painted there, big sweeping fish swimming on the blue wall. "Stay safe," he adds. He means it, even though he shouldn't. She laughs.

"Bye, Gi," she says, and before Mingi can even open his mouth to reply, she's hung up. He sighs.

He wonders when it all got so fucking complicated.

He buys wall paint the next day.

The next time he sees Yunho, he's actually on time. Mostly because Seonghwa lies, gives him a time thirty minutes early, and he pouts as Hongjoong laughs at him, smacking his back with a thud.

He scans the room, sees the pretty new guy and slumps into the seat closest to him without really thinking about why. He's a man of instinct, most of the time, and he wants to sit with him. So he does. Even though he's still vaguely pissed off at Seonghwa for lying to him.

"Traitors," he mutters, "the fucking, nerve, the gall," Yunho looks a little amused, sipping his can of Coke. "These guys suck, Yunho, you should get out while you can."

The brunette man's eyes widen in surprise, and he glances up, swallowing.

"Oh," he says, eyes darting around the room. "Maybe you should just… Turn up on time?" and he says it casually, like that's the obvious solution.

Mingi pouts instantly, betrayed all over again. Hongjoong bats at the back of Seonghwa's leg as he picks his way through the living room, repeating Yunho's statement, and the silver-haired man laughs as he walks past, rubbing Mingi's hair as he does.

"Yeah, I mean, he's kind of right, Mingi," he says from the kitchen, searching for something in the cupboards. "I don't give a shit what Arin is doing or whatever, she sucks."

It makes Mingi sigh loudly, and he slumps his head back, immediately irritated. He doesn't even know why they're bringing her up, especially as he actually turned up on time today.

"Why are we talking about her?" he whines, mostly to the ceiling, letting his frustration show in his voice.

"Who?" Yunho asks, sounding curious, and Mingi burns with a sudden flare of embarrassment. He doesn't want Yunho to know about his inability to make sensible decisions, still kind of wants to impress him.

He gnaws his bottom lip habitually. He's not sure why he wants to impress the new guy so much.

"Oh," Jongho pipes up, and Mingi braces himself for the worst. The youngest in their group can be brutally honest, scarily perceptive, and unintentionally harsh. It's normally useful, good at putting things into perspective, but Mingi's a bit too raw for it right now. "Yunho isn't up to date with Mingi's terrible choices when it comes to romance." Mingi rummages for a cigarette, embarrassed and stressed, seeking distraction. "No smoking in here dude, you literally just had one outside."

"You're stressing me out!" Mingi protests, and he braves a glance at Yunho, who is steadily staring at his own glass.

"Then stop hooking up with her!" Yeosang decides to input, glass bottles clanking as he places them on the table. "Every time she's like, oh, he was so mean to me, he broke my heart, and you fall for it!"

"Oh, Mingi, help me, I'm so heartbroken, come comfort me with your massive dong," Wooyoung pipes up, and Mingi feels himself blush the same colour of his hair. Yunho blinks at the sentence, glances up at the pink-haired man. He deliberately averts his eyes. He's about to open his mouth when he sees Yunho reach for a bottle, shoving it between his teeth.

"Ouch, dude, we have bottle openers," San tells him, raising his eyebrows in vague concern, and the brunette just shrugs, spits the cap into his hand. Mingi's stomach feels a bit weird, fluttering oddly.

"Teeth work," Yunho mutters, taking a swig, and then he looks up, catching Mingi's eyes.

"Okay, let's stop clowning on Minki now, his terrible choices are his to make," Seonghwa states, dropping the bottle opener on the coffee table, "and don't damage your teeth, use an opener, you weirdo." Yunho pouts, cute and adorable, and Mingi averts his eyes yet again. He's kind of mortified, and his stomach really hurts and he wants a cigarette.

"No, no, I want to tell Mingi how much I disapprove," Yeosang says from where he's throwing himself into the space next to him, playful. Mingi knows he is mostly joking, but he's already irritated and feels thrown off-kilter.

"I'm aware," he mutters, rings clanking against the glass bottle of his beer as he takes a swig, and he rolls his eyes. "It's not like that, she's just… It's whatever, casual," he tries to explain, and Seonghwa raises an eyebrow at him as he places snacks on the table and sits down next to Yunho easily.

"Your definition of casual must be different to mine," Hongjoong mutters from his place on the floor, sounding disapproving. "I think fucking the same girl every three to five weeks because she's incapable of keeping a relationship is the opposite of casual." He kind of wants to strangle Hongjoong in that moment, but squeezes his eyes closed for a long second before sighing, moving on.

It's not casual, never really has been, but he hates the discomfort he feels in the pit of his stomach at the idea of Yunho knowing this.

"Okay, okay, can we…" Mingi gestures vaguely at the stack of cards in Wooyoung's hands. He's so fucking annoyed, Yunho's looking at him, and it makes him burn hot, a weird swirl of shame and irritation behind his ribcage. "Let's just play the fucking game, I don't want to talk about her anymore."

"Why? Is she fucking someone else right now?" Jongho asks, harsh, slightly cruel, and Mingi feels the bubble of irritation pop into actual anger for a second. "Fucking bitch."

"Woah," Yunho mumbles under his breath, looking shocked, and Mingi stands abruptly.

"I'm going for a smoke," he says sharply, fiddling with the lock on the door with fumbling hands. He's too caught up in his sharp annoyance to focus on what he's doing properly. "If anyone wants one," he adds, and Yunho stands up, on his feet before Mingi finishes his sentence.

"Oh, you smoke?" San asks, sipping his beer, and the brunette's eyes dart awkwardly for a second.

"Nah, I just… Want some air," he mumbles, and Mingi finally manages to get the door open, looking back at the taller man, gesturing with his head.

"Come on then," he mutters, stilted and pissed off, and immediately feels bad about it. It's not like it's Yunho's fault. They walk down the flight of stairs in silence, and, as they get outside, Yunho wraps his arms around himself, obviously cold.

"That was… Um," Yunho mumbles, slumping against the wall, rubbing his upper arms to stay warm. "Are you okay?" Mingi fumbles for a cigarette, shoves it in his mouth. He feels itchy. On edge.

"Yeah," Mingi mutters around his cigarette, puffing a long, thin stream of smoke into the air. "They're dicks sometimes, but they just want what's best for me."

"Yeah?" the brunette whispers, and Mingi doesn't know why Yunho's look at him like that, but he doesn't think he ever wants the taller man to stop looking at him. He wonders if that's a strange thing to think about a new friend. He ignores it. "I'm sure she isn't a…" Yunho gestures at nothing, grimacing. "Fucking bitch, or whatever."

"No, she is," Mingi laughs stiffly, flicking the ash from his cigarette with his thumb. "They're completely right, but it's… It's complicated." He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Woman or something, right?" he goes for a joke, too tired to try and explain the situation, doesn't even know where to begin. How do you explain a situation you don't even understand fully yourself?

"O-Oh, I'm… I'm gay, so… I don't know?" Yunho stutters, and Mingi glances up, surprised.

He's not bothered, not at all, but it rattles him slightly for reasons he can't put a finger on, something hot and tight forming behind his ribcage. He sucks some smoke into his lungs and tilts his head.

"You've never hooked up with a girl?" He hears himself ask, brain-to-mouth filter apparently long forgotten, and Yunho blushes, eyes darting around Mingi's face. He's not sure why his pulse has rapidly increased, scorching as the taller man scans his face.

"No?" Yunho answers, sounding shy. "I mean, like, I've kissed girls but… They're not, uh, my thing?" Mingi can't stop the soft laugh that falls out of him, endeared by the other man with a sudden, painful, pang.

"Fair," he says through a smile, nodding. "Good for you." And he means it. It's nice to meet someone who's open with their sexuality. His brain clings to that for a second too long.

"Not that like, I hook up with that many people," Yunho says suddenly, making Mingi look up. "It's not… I mean, it's different in the city, but back home it's not like, really, cool to be…" he gestures at himself.

"Oh, what, that's fucked up," Mingi scowls around his cigarette, irritated again. He doesn't like the idea of people being cruel in general, really, but the idea of someone being cruel to Yunho makes him suddenly angry. "Fuck them, honestly, you should fuck who you want to."

"Hongjoong said he wanted to take me to one of the gay clubs," he mumbles quietly, eyes averted again, "but honestly, I've been clubbing like one in my life and I don't think it counts because there were like fifteen people in the entire place, and we went home at like 11 PM."

"Are you nervous?" he asks, gently, reaching to pick a piece of fluff off Yunho's shirt without thinking. The brunette freezes for a brief second, unnoticeable if Mingi wasn't already staring at him.

"Kind of," he admits shyly, and the strange pang of endearment rocks through him again.

"I'll come with you as well if you like, we could go with a group of us, so it feels less intimidating," he offers easily, realising that he doesn't like the nerves that are trembling through Yunho's hands as he rubs his arms, wanting him to smile again.

"Y-Yeah, that sounds… Yeah, thanks," Yunho agrees shakily, looking up with a small smile and Mingi's heart does something stumbling and strange in his chest. He ignores it, throwing his cigarette on the floor and stomping it out, already feeling less highly strung. Yunho seems to calm him down.

"Cool, let's go play some uh, what are playing?" he mutters, holding the door open for Yunho as he walks back in. "Poker?"

"I think Wooyoung wanted to play Go Fish," Yunho says, and as he goes to grab the door, their fingers brush on the glass, just for a second. Mingi feels it spark down his arm, into his heat, and he isn't sure why he feels warm where Yunho's touched him.

Mingi's not that hungover, but he uses it as an excuse to stay in bed and scroll on his phone anyway. He's tired, more than anything, emotionally exhausted. He hasn't heard from Arin in almost a week and is secretly kind of enjoying the peace and quiet. There is a subtle anxiety pulling at the pit of his stomach, however, every passing day feeling closer to another message, another phone call where she cries down the phone.

Like he's any better. He can never bring himself to ignore her, no matter how many times she repeats the cycle.

Arin will hook up with someone, get her heart broken when her intense obsession isn't reciprocated, ring Mingi crying, and he'll try his best to comfort her despite the fact he's long stopped being invested. She'll act sweet, nice, mess with Mingi's head, ask to hook up.

He's never been great at saying no to her.

Then she leaves, once she's got what she wanted, finds someone else to fuck around with, another group of people to party with for a few days. He's so used to the routine of it all that he's stopped seeing it as what it is, fucked up and toxic.

He blinks his eyes back into focus, noticing a comment on Yeosang's post, wonders if it's Yunho. The username could be, and as he clicks on the profile, squints at the profile picture, he thinks it might be. He requests to follow him before he overthinks it and then switches over to some YouTube video to distract himself, not wanting to sit and contemplate any of the swirling thoughts in his head right now.

It's only a few minutes later when a notification pops up, letting him know that his follow request has been accepted.

Mingi clicks on Yunho's profile so quickly that it would be embarrassing if he wasn't alone.

It's sparse, barely used, and he doesn't have to scroll much to hit the bottom of his page. The most recent photo is of the Seoul skyline, out the window of a moving vehicle, slightly blurry around the edges.

@yunho.u_u: to new beginnings.

@minho123123lee: good luck ! call me every week or i will appear as ur sleep paralysis demon every night

@yunho.u_u: can't you just say i miss you like a normal person

Mingi snorts to himself, amused, backs out of the photo and looks through the others, intrigued despite the lack of clues he's gaining from the profile.

He should really go and shower, get himself out of bed, but he clicks on a photo of Yunho at some kind of fireworks show, laughing with his hand over his mouth. He's so pretty, lit up by the colours of the sky, ears and cheeks pink from the cold. Mingi stares at it for a long time before it registers what he's doing, and he shuts his phone off in shame.

He drags himself to the shower, hoping for distraction. When he gets back out, he instantly gets bored again, slumping onto the sofa and pouting at the mural on the wall. He should really cover that up.

Mingi: so when is this club thing happening bc i need time to plan an outfit

Mingi: and also i want to get very drunk

Mingi: this is your warning.

Mingi texts the group chat mostly out of boredom, fidgeting on the sofa, pulling his legs up to his chest. He doesn't dwell on why he's sad when it's not Yunho that answers.

Hongjoong: not surprised but still disappointed

San: we were thinking Friday? does that work for everyone? woo says to tell u that it's a gay club

Mingi: i know Yu told me :)

He replays the images of Yunho blushing in his head, looking so shy, nervous. His heart stumbles over itself in his chest, clumsy and stupid.

Jongho: omg Mingi gay era? have wooSan finally got u?

Mingi: Sexuality is fluid my dude we are in 2025 open ur mind

In this moment, Mingi kind of hates Jongho. It's not that he's not a good friend, has definitely been there for him through a lot of shit, but he's also apparently incapable of reading a room. Incapable of not speaking his mind.

Seonghwa: is it?! cool it'd be nice to try something different, we go to the same three places and its boring as hell now

Hongjoong: did i not tell u this hwa… also min shut up u loser like u'd even know what to do w a dick if it smacked u in the face

Yeosang: god are u trying to rebound whore it out with some dudes bc arin is back w her plug?

Mingi: shut the fuck up.

Mingi changes his mind, maybe it's Yeosang that he hates the most right now. He sees the little image of Yunho join the 'read' section of his message and wonders why he blushes. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn't know what's wrong with him.

San: does friday work for everyone?!? Please just say yes or no

God, San's a fucking saint, Mingi thinks to himself, thankful as the confirmations come pouring in.

Hongjoong: yes

Seonghwa: yes

Yeosang: yeah i guess :/

Jongho: yeah but can we predrink at someone elses bc we hosted last time

Mingi: yeah we can chill at mine if u want

Yunho: yes, sounds good :) thanks for coming w guys haha ! could i get an address for ur place Mingi?

Yunho finally messages, and Mingi chews on his bottom lip, bizarrely nervous. It's then that the realisation that he's opening his home for Yunho to see for the first time hits him. His stomach knots, tight and uncomfortable, and he stubbornly ignores it.

Mingi: yeah lemme send it :D

Yunho: also whats a plug?

Mingi: don't worry about it !!! hahahah !!!

Hongjoong: cute, it's her drug dealer lmao

Yunho: oh ! right ! hahah cool :)

Yeosang: not cool don't do drugs yuyu ur too pure

Yunho: hahahaha i won't dw lol

Mingi: ANYWAY come to mine at like 8 or something idc

Mingi is certain that Yeosang is his current number one worst enemy. He sighs, rolls his eyes at no one and switches to a private message with Yunho. It's empty, obviously, but it makes the pink-haired man's gut flutter with nerves when he starts typing his address. He checks the message several times before he gets the courage to send it, despite it not even mattering, it not even being a big deal. He doesn't know who he's trying to convince.

Yunho: cool thank u :) you live super close to me actually isn't that crazy its only a 5 min walk lol

Mingi: what no way ! small world :) glad our paths crossed

Mingi cringes at himself, embarrassment crawling through his veins. He wants to delete the message, feeling too raw around the edge for a brief moment, but then Yunho replies.

Yunho: me too ! im excited to see ur place :) thanks for inviting me

Mingi: of course dude ! we like having u around :)

He thinks saying "we" makes it sound more casual, less desperate and pathetic. What he means, however, is I.

I like having you around.

He gnaws at his bottom lip, confused at his own emotions, but apparently not confused enough to ruin the way he smiles when Yunho answers.

Yunho: thanks Min, that's really nice of u <3

Mingi doesn't address the way his ribs tighten at the heart at the end of Yunho's message. He flicks open his tabs habitually, going to clear his apps that are running in the background, when he realises he still has his photos open. He clicks into them easily, looking through the ones he took last night, the photos from the sticky bar the week before.

His heart seizes for a second in his chest when he opens one of Yunho. He's in side profile, fingers on his lips as he smiles, eyes squished into crescents. He's so pretty it kind of blows Mingi's mind, and he swaps to Instagram instantly.

He groups the photo in with a few others, trying to disguise his own pitiful actions, how pathetic he feels, posting photos just in the hope of some attention from Yunho. He blinks at himself. Is that what this is?

He posts it before he can back out, and then waits, scrolling aimlessly through Instagram reels until someone comments. He wanders back into his bedroom, bored again, eyebrows furrowing when he sees that Yeonjun's commented, thirsting over Yunho. He replies with a sharp, unfounded, stab of possessiveness.

He flops onto the bed limply, feeling mopey and hungover. Wooyoung comments, making him snicker in the silence of his room. His heart skips a beat when he gets the notification that Yunho's liked the photos.

Mingi shoves the phone into the mess of his bedding and stares at the sickly glow of the stars adhered to his ceiling, at some point bright but now listless and weak.

So, the pretty new guy is gay. And pretty.

It shouldn't matter, in the grand scheme of things, and he doesn't know why his brain keeps going back to it, circling around to the same thoughts over and over. Yunho is gay. And he's pretty. So fucking pretty. It kind of knocks Mingi a bit off-kilter, like, just maybe, he has a chance.

He squeezes his eyes shut at that thought, shocked by himself.

It's not like he's never thought of guys as attractive before, but it feels deeper than that with Yunho. Because it's the first time he's seen a hot guy and wanted to actually act on it.

he bites his bottom lip, thinking of Yunho's nervous smile when he looked up at him, reaching to grab a piece of fluff off his shirt, unthinking. The way their hands brushed when he'd held open the door.

It's ridiculous, makes him feel like a teenager all over again, the way his heart picks up it's pace. But it's terrifying, horrific and huge, making him want to hide under his duvet and never come out. So he does what he's best at, and ignores it. He'll deal with it another day, when he's less hungover, and, he thinks bitterly, not in a confusing situationship with his ex-girlfriend.

He opens his laptop and puts on Love Island in an attempt to numb his brain from travelling down that train of thought any further.

It's semi-successful.

It's like God is watching him, mocking him, when he runs into Yunho outside the convenience store. He notices him quickly, raises his sunglasses to double-check, and forgets about the state of his eyes. He's already a bit stoned, a comforting, numbing haze curling around his limps. His heart stutters when he realises that it is Yunho walking towards him.

"Yu!" He calls, and Yunho grins, speeding up a little bit to join him on his long legs.

"I mean, I knew you lived nearby because you sent me your address, but this is kind of crazy," he jokes, and Mingi knuckle punches him, distracted by his own slowly whirling thoughts.

"Small world or whatever, right?" Mingi tries his best to keep the smile on his face, letting out a stream of smoke. Yunho smiles at him.

"What you getting?" the brunette asks, putting his phone in his pocket. He glances down at himself, eyes widening as he seems to register what he's wearing. Mingi's eyes are drawn to the Spiderman pyjama pants, and that strange fondness rolls through him again. He flicks his sunglasses down to hide his expression. "Oh, I didn't think I'd see anyone."

"I was going to say, cute pants," Mingi jokes, unable to keep the endearment out of his voice. "Ah, Arin's just in there getting," he pauses, uncertain. "I don't even know actually, I just gave her my card."

He doesn't like admitting he's here with her, especially not when Yunho raises his eyebrows at him, something strange tugging at his eyes.

"Damn, are you… Back together?" Yunho asks, and Mingi shakes his head adamantly, not liking the way his stomach is clenching up, how suddenly airless his lungs feel.

"No, no, definitely not," he mumbles. "She's just struggling at the moment, is all," he tries to explain, as if Yunho is going to have a clue what he's talking about. He drops his dead cigarette to the floor and immediately lights another, vaguely stressed but not understanding why. "I'm… I can't just like, let her suffer, y'know."

He doesn't know why he feels the need to explain himself.

"Right," Yunho says, sounding strange and tight, and Mingi glances up at him. There's a long beat of silence, slightly awkwardly. Yunho's eyes dart to the shop for a moment, and Arin sways back out, shoving the card back into Mingi's hand without looking.

He fumbles it, too stoned, too stressed, and Arin sighs, sounding irritated.

"Gi, come on, are you stupid?" It burns through him, the insult. He swallows, fakes a laugh the best he can.

"Uh, I'm… Gonna get my noodles, I think?" Yunho pipes up, looking unsettled as he shuffles on his feet.

"Who are you?" Arin asks, rude and aggressive, and Mingi cringes to himself, embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm… Yunho," the brunette offers stiffly, and Mingi shoves his wallet back into his pocket, irritated by Arin's behaviour.

"This is my friend, 'Rin, he's cool, be nice," and she pouts at him, childish. A wave of annoyance rolls over him. "Yu, this is Arin," he offers, as if Yunho hasn't probably already figured that out, isn't probably already judging his horrible choices.

"I'm always nice," she lies, glaring hard at Mingi for a second before she turns back to Yunho with a flick of her hair. Mingi wants to tell her to fuck off. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Yunho says politely, bowing. "I'm going to get my food now, but see you on Friday, Min, yeah?" he glances up at him, smiling at him. The irritation melts away easily inside him, and he grins back.

"Oh, shit, yeah, I'm excited!" He says, relighting his cigarette, "It'll be good, we'll look after you, don't worry." He can't stop looking at the pretty smile on Yunho's face, the pink flush of his cheeks from the cold.

"Thanks," Yunho laughs, and Mingi feels himself grinning wider, taken under by the clouds of his high, the endearment he feels towards the taller man. "I'm looking forward to it too."

"Okay, so, can we go now?" Arin interrupts rudely, and Mingi turns to look at her, surprised at himself. He kind of forgot she was there. He nods anyway, trying to appease.

"Yeah, sure, let's get you back, it's cold," he mumbles, not actually particularly caring, but feeling like he should at least try.

"See ya," Yunho mumbles and Mingi pulls him into a hug before he can overthink it, ignoring the way his heart rate increases as their proximity does.

"Yeah, see you soon, Yuyu."

Arin pushes him down on the bed as soon as they get back, with that look in her eye again, and he goes through the motions.

He kind of hates himself a little more, honestly, every time this happens. Hates that Wooyoung and Yeosang and all his other friends are completely correct about him.

But he's still stoned, still thinking about Yunho and his stupid Spiderman pyjama pants. The way he'd stared at Arin with some strange, cold expression, something hard that Mingi didn't really understand. The way he'd looked at him, smiling.

Arin rides him lazily, relights the blunt, passes it down. He takes another hit greedily, groaning low in his throat when she clenches up, teasing on purpose.

"'Rin, fuck," he mumbles, taking another hit and placing it on the ashtray, moving his hands to her hips. "Fuck, you feel good."

"Mmm," she murmurs, eyes heavy as she moves herself. "God, your dick is so good," she mutters, mostly to himself, grinding her hips. Mingi lets his head fall back, eyes falling closed.

Sex with Arin always has very little talking, mostly silent, except for their uneven breathing and moans. Which is fine, usually, but the silence and his eyes that are still squeezed shut leave him plenty of opportunities to imagine.

And he can't stop thinking about Yunho.

"Fuck," Arin says under her breath, "Can we switch? From behind?"

"Yeah," Mingi answers easily, glad to be pulled out of his own thoughts. "Let's switch."

He slides into her easily, practices, and she sighs into the pillow softly as she raises her hips a little further. Mingi runs a thumb over her lower back tattoo, gripping hard onto her waist, starting a slow, deep rhythm.

His eyes fall shut again as he fucks into her, and his brain wanders aimlessly, back to big hands fiddling nervously with hoodie strings, being pressed to his lips as he listened to Wooyoung across the table. He wonders what those hands would feel like on him, rubbing down his chest, stroking his cock. He blinks open his eyes in surprise, suddenly so close to orgasm that it feels burning, stomach tense with the knot of it.

"Fuck, harder," Arin moans, and he does as he's told, burning hot with humiliation and something else unnamed. She whines into the pillows, reaches down to touch her clit, and Mingi's eyes slip shut again, too stoned to keep them open.

Hands stroking his cock, long fingers wrapped around him, Yunho on his knees, opening his mouth with his big, wide eyes. He cums so hard he surprises himself, shocked at the sensation. Arin makes a noise of confusion, and he pulls out clumsily, licks messily into her cunt until she shivers through her orgasm.

She doesn't ask any questions. She pulls her clothes back on and takes a few more hits of the blunt before she makes her thin excuses, leaves.

Mingi tries his best not to think about it, putting it down to the drugs and Arin's ability to completely fuck with his head.

Maybe it's a sign, a clue that it's time to finally stop this nasty thing that him and Arin keep going with, even though it helps neither of them. He knows that he should, has for months, but it's finally starting to feel like time to actually act on it.

He stares at the ceiling and thinks of long fingers, of pretty pink cheeks.

He's not gay. He's sure he's not, he's been in relationships with girls his whole life, he just fucked a girl. But he can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop thinking about Yunho.

But he's not gay. He's sure of it.

Seonghwa arrives first, which he's grateful for, because as soon as he steps in the door, Mingi is spilling his guts on the floor in front of his feet. He navigates it messily, almost spilling things he really shouldn't, but he manages, and Seonghwa just nods at him, understanding.

He tells him about the last time she called, her going to Dylan, but leaves out the messy details, skirting around the Yunho of it all. He skips that part, because he doesn't even understand it himself yet, doesn't want to address it. He shakes his head.

"I can't keep doing it, seriously, I just, please, hold me to it, because I can't," Mingi babbles, and Seonghwa reaches to pet him softly, soothingly.

"Min, it's okay, we'll all be here for you, you know that right?" He insists, sounding genuine. "I'm glad you came to the decision yourself, and I'm here, always, you know that," Mingi can't stop the way he tears up at that.

"Thank you hyung, I'm sorry, I know I've been a bit of a dick recently," he mumbles, nudging his shoulder into Seonghwa's next to him as they lean on the kitchen counter. The silver-haired man laughs, shakes his head, nudging him back.

"You haven't been a dick, we just hate seeing you get hurt over and over Min," he murmurs, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "But no more, new leaf, fresh start, etc, etc," Seonghwa jokes. Mingi manages to giggle despite the heaviness that sticks to his chest.

"Fresh start."

It's a few hours later when he takes another shot for courage, and Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, watching him carefully.

"You okay, big boy?" the shorter man mutters, and Mingi snorts, slapping his upper arm. He isn't sure why he's so nervous.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Yunho's on his way, by the way, he's just text," he informs the room, sinking onto the sofa. "He'll be like five minutes."

"He lives five minutes away from you? Damn, call that fate or something," San says, already slightly tipsy, and Mingi raises his eyebrows, taken aback.

"Fate? What like you two?" San giggles at his question, leaning into Wooyoung's side, who just pets him affectionately as he sips his beer.

"What, you interested?" Jongho shoots back, looking disbelieving. "Didn't think Yunho would be your type," he adds, and for some reason it burns through him, leaving a sharp trail of irritation in its wake.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mingi hears his voice come out shrill, agitated and weird. He swallows, tries to reel it back in a bit. "I don't know if you're trying to insult me or Yunho here," he tries to joke, and Seonghwa snorts.

"Yunho's handsome, but he's like…" the younger man gestures vaguely at nothing. "They boy-next-door, clean, cute, y'know." Mingi blinks at him.

"And that's not my type?" he asks, confused and Jongho laughs.

"I mean, no offence Min, but you're not really known for dating the nicest of people," he states, blunt as usual. Mingi rolls his eyes, slumping back onto the sofa.

"Does, "a bit of a bitch", count as a type?" Wooyoung jokes, and Seonghwa laughs, hand flying to cover his mouth.

"Sorry, Min, I didn't mean to laugh. He can date anyone now! It's a new leaf, a fresh start!" Seonghwa exclaims, seeming a little tipsy already.

"It's fine, but really, I like… Don't have a type at all," he mutters, and San glances at him, blinking, considering. Wooyoung shrugs, obviously deciding to speak on the question that's hanging in the air between them all.

"Yeah, I mean, I just kind of haven't ever seen you with a guy, Min," Wooyoung inputs, unhelpfully, and Mingi frowns. He doesn't know why everyone is so obsessed with what gender people are, or maybe, he's just feeling defensive because he's already confused and on edge.

"Sexuality is fluid!" he says, slightly too forcefully, and Jongho raises his eyebrows, snorts into his beer.

"Is that just code for 'I'm confused and desperate'?" he says, too cocky for his own good. Mingi shoots him a look, gulps down another mouthful of beer. He doesn't know why Jongho is making fun of him, like he doesn't stare longingly at Yeosang when his back is turned. He decides to take the upper hand and vacate the situation instead of rising to the bait.

"I'm going to smoke," he says instead, standing, walking to the door. He's about to open his mouth when the buzzer goes off. He answers quickly.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Yunho's voice floats through the tiny speaker, sounding a little shy, a bit shaky. "It's Yunho."

"Ah," the pink-haired man says, like he didn't already know. "I'm just coming down for a smoke, wait there for me and I'll walk you up?" He selfishly hopes to have some time with Yunho alone, if he's honest with himself, but he at least has the decency to pretend it's because it's easier for both of them.

"Sure," Yunho answers, and Mingi opens the door instantly, shuffles down the steps as quickly as he can. When he stumbles out, Yunho is scrolling on his phone, but glances up as he hears him approaching, smile already on his face. He steps back, eyes darting around Mingi's body, and he visibly swallows.

Mingi is mostly distracted by Yunho's legs, looking miles long in some slacks that hug him perfectly. He blinks himself out of that train of thought. That's probably not something a straight man would notice, he reprimands himself, especially not about a new friend.

"You look good," Yunho murmurs, ears red as he smiles shyly, and Mingi feels himself flush a little, pleased with the praise. It feels good coming from the older man, and he lets the warmth overtake the nasty, confusing ache that's settling behind his ribs.

"Thanks, you too," and he means it.

Yunho looks so pretty, and as he turns his face, his highlighter catches in the light spilling from the lobby.

"Your makeup is pretty," he adds, trying for casual, fumbling for his lighter. His hands are a bit slow due to the alcohol and the cold, and he feels himself blushing.

"Oh, tha-thanks," Yunho's voice catches, and Mingi glances at him curiously. He shuffles to lean against the wall, averting his eyes. "Are the others already here?"

"Yeah, you're the last one," he mumbles, sucking smoke into his lungs, appreciating the subtle head rush. "Jongho was clowning me for saying sexuality is fluid," he hears himself blurt, flicking ash onto the floor. He doesn't know why he says that out loud.

"O-Oh?" Yunho sounds a little surprised. "I mean, I did see your message, but like, you're kind of right?"

"Right!" Mingi says, instantly, probably too enthusiastic, slightly too drunk to reign it in appropriately. "Like, the package of the item doesn't matter, right? it's the interior that matters. The rest is all just, some people are hot, and some people aren't." He shrugs, dismisses. His friends might not get it, but Yunho seems to, at least a little.

"That sounds not very straight of you," the taller man murmurs, and Mingi blinks at him, choking a little. It's like the older man has looked into his brain and pinpointed his insecurities. Reading through him like glass.

"What do you mean?" and he wonders if he sounds as confused as he feels. He thought everyone felt the way he did.

"I don't find woman attractive, so as much as I could see a hot woman and logically say that she's hot, I don't want to fuck her," Yunho stumbles, and he blushes a little as he speaks.

"You wouldn't?" Mingi asks bluntly, and Yunho shakes his head.

It's confusing, because he kind of always thought people were just being overly picky about their partners. The realisation that maybe, actually, most people don't want to fuck all types of hot people it throwing him off slightly.

"Would you fuck a guy?" Yunho asks, looking at him, and Mingi shrugs.

"Sure," he tries to sound casual about it, "everyone would if they were hot, right?"

Yunho laughs gently, reaching to pat him on the upper arm. It's nice, comforting, but he's distracted by the way Yunho looks at him.

"Yeah, that… You're maybe not straight, Min, I don't think?" he sounds like he's trying to let Mingi down gently. "Have you… Have you fucked around with a guy before?"

"No," Mingi admits easily, alcohol loosening his tongue. "But I've wanted to."

He hears himself speak slightly out of body, and he can't stop himself from staring at Yunho as he speaks.

"Yeah, I mean, no harm in experimenting, right?" Yunho sounds casual, and Mingi wonders if the older man has experimented before, wonders why that makes his stomach feel weird. He brings his cigarette up to his mouth to distract himself.

"Yeah, no harm," he mumbles, staring at the streetlight down the road.

He doesn't really know what to think, what to feel. It's not an issue, per say; it doesn't turn Mingi's world upside down. But the realisation that he's probably not straight still throws him slightly, like he's experiencing the world a degree to the left.

"It is what it is." He mumbles, despite the way his thoughts are starting to tangle.

"Yeah, sexuality is just, figuring it out, I guess," and Mingi nods, glances at Yunho, stares back into the distance.

"Yeah, he says quietly, and inhales more smoke into his lungs. He doesn't want to think about it anymore.

There are a lot of things he's got to figure out, and apparently, a sexuality crisis is what God thinks he needs right now. He tries to find the humour in it.

He finishes his cigarette quickly and stomps it out, opens the door for Yunho, leading him upstairs. He tries to ignore the nerves in the pit of his stomach as he shoves the door with his shoulder.

"It sticks," he mumbles, even though Yunho didn't ask, and he leads him into the flat.

He gets hit with how messy it looks as they re-enter, and he gets a pang of embarrassment at the poor job he's done covering up Arin's mural. He needs to get more wall paint.

He glances at Yunho, who is staring at it with a strange expression on his face. He doesn't know what it means.

"Hey, how is everyone?" Yunho says abruptly, tearing his eyes away, a smile back on his face. Wooyoung appears from the kitchen with shots on a tray, and Mingi feels himself grimacing immediately.

"Oh, Yuyu!" Wooyoung squeals, sounding excited, "You're in time for tequila shots."

"Oh, yay," Yunho sounds unenthusiastic, and San bursts into laughter, leaning back on the beanbag near the speaker system. Kendrick plays in the background, probably a notch too loud.

They all do shots, and Mingi has to laugh at the way Yunho looks horrified at the taste. He guides him to the sofa easily, instinctively. He feels warm when Yunho smiles at him, laughing when Seonghwa brings them more drinks and Wooyoung begs them to play a game, conceding easily. He lets himself bask in it, lets his brain switch off, even if it's just for tonight.

"Min, please, your recycling almost fucking decapitated me when I went to get these," Yeosang complains, and swiftly works his way back up to being Mingi's number one enemy. "I love you, but you live like a squatter," he adds, placing the Soju bottles in the centre of the floor.

"What's wrong with squatting?" Mingi snaps back through a pout, unreasonably irritated, and Jongho sighs like he's in pain.

"Min, you have a job, you don't need to squat," he points out, and Mingi shrugs, unimpressed. "Or let your recycling pile up so high that it's almost touching the ceiling."

"This place has low ceilings," he fires back, pouty, and Yunho tries to hide the smile that's spreading across his face.

"Never have I ever, spin the bottle style?" Wooyoung suggests suddenly, and Seonghwa rejoins them, looking vaguely pained.

"Are we teenagers?" he whines, flopping down next to them. "When are we going to start being sophisticated, doing dinner parties or whatever people in their mid-twenties are supposed to do?" He complains.

"Look around you 'Haw hyung, you are not in a friend group that's going to do dinner parties, I'm so sorry," and Wooyoung pats him softly, like he's letting him down gently. Seonghwa sighs, turns to him.

"By the way, Min, I cleaned your bathroom it was stressing me out," he announces, and Mingi feels himself blushing instantly. "And I threw out the spare toothbrush because you aren't going to have anyone over who needs to use it, are you?" he says with a little knowing tilt of his head, and Mingi averts his eyes. He doesn't know why the idea of Yunho knowing burns through him, sending a hot flush all down his neck.

"Y-Yeah, new leaf or whatever, right?" he mumbles into his beer, and refuses to look up, swinging the bottle idly.

"How long will he actually stick to it this time," San comments, slipping onto the floor, already pretty drunk. "Come play the game, losers, drink some more," he commands, and everyone starts the process of sitting in a circle.

"Don't go too hard Sannie, last time I really struggles to get you home," Seonghwa complains, and San pouts at him in return.

"Sorry, hyung," he sounds scolded, eyes averting downwards. Everyone else sinks onto the floor, and Mingi sits next to Yunho, dragging his legs up to his chest. He mirrors the brunette unintentionally.

It starts easy, everyone playing safe until the shots start kicking in. Mingi thinks he's probably drunk, now, as the bottle spins and lands in front of him, and he wonders how face he should push it.

"Never have I ever…" he pouts some shots out in preparation, knows that San and Wooyoung at least will have to take a shot for his question. "Kissed a guy." He looks up at Yunho as he speaks, sees the way his ears flush a little pink. He reaches and takes a shot easily, unashamed. He's not sure what the weird feeling in his chest means.

"Oh, Min, that's so targeted," Wooyoung whines, predictably, reaching for the shots. "I'll take Sannie's shot because he'll fall asleep if he has anymore," he mumbles, necking both easily.

Seonghwa, surprisingly, takes a small glass, grabs a second. Mingi's confused for a moment before the silver-haired man passes it easily to Hongjoong, suddenly freezing when he realises the implications of what he's done.

"Guys?" Jongho asks, sounding amused and mischievous, "Something to tell us?" he teases, and Yeosang stares at the pair of them with interest. Mingi's brain processes the information slowly, watching them closely.

"We were just really drunk," Hongjoong dismisses, but Mingi can see the way his eyes are shifting, the flush on his cheeks. Seonghwa's eyes flash with something for a second before he nods, smiles stiffly.

"Yeah, it was just a one-time, drunk thing," he says, sounding strained, and looks back at the bottle. "Okay, next round, let's go."

"Damn, fine, keep your secrets," San whines, sleepy on the sofa. "I'ma drink to that," he takes a large gulp of the water bottle in his hands, and Mingi spins the bottle hard to break the weird tension in the room. It would be hypocritical to pry when he's having a small sexuality crisis of his own.

It lands on Yunho, who blinks, surprised.

"Oh, me?" he mumbles, "Uh, wait, so do I… Something I've done, or something I haven't?" He asks, and Mingi is hit with a wave of endearment, strong and stinging. He brushes his shoulder against Yunho's.

"Something you haven't, loser, have you not been paying attention?" He jokes, and Yunho grins widely, hiding his smile behind his hands.

"Sorry, okay, uh," he pauses for a long second, thinking. "Never have I ever hooked up with the same person twice," he blurts, and Mingi chokes on his sip of beer, taken by surprise.

The statement makes his chest tighten, his ribcage suddenly feeling too big for his body, and he doesn't know why.

"Wow, okay, damn," he whistles, ignoring the unsettling knot in the pit of his stomach. "What a whore," he hokes, raising his shot at Yunho before he downs it. He makes a deliberate effort to not think about it.

Most of the group except Jongho take a shot, which isn't hugely surprising, but Mingi notes the way Seonghwa and Hongjoong deliberately don't look at each other as they drink.

"That was a good one, you got loads of us," Yeosang comments, sounding pleased even though he has to take a shot. "You're good at this!" he praises, and Yunho looks momentarily shy, ears burning hot again.

"I didn't know you could be good at this game," he says modestly, sipping his beer, and Mingi has to tear his eyes away before Yunho sees him staring.

They drink some more, the game continues. Then, the bottle lands on Mingi, and he gets an idea.

"Never have I ever fucked a guy," he states, unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth, tongue thick and loose with alcohol. Wooyoung and San aren't even here right now, the obvious targets for it, and Yunho raises an eyebrow at him like he knows exactly what he's asking. Mingi's too drink to be embarrassed by his lack of subtlety.

He takes the shot, and then Mingi is distracted by Seonghwa's nervous glances.

"Seonghwa?" Yunho asks, "You need a shot?" Seonghwa's eyes shift awkwardly around the room, and Mingi is drunk enough that the heft of the admission doesn't register.

"Well, do you mean like, topping a guy? Or just, having sex with a guy, because they are very different things," he mutters, and he sounds equal parts ashamed and drunk. It's a little out-of-character, and Mingi blinks. He's not surprised, really, but it stings a little that he wasn't aware of it. He thought he was better at paying attention. Yunho turns to him, eyebrows raised.

"Just, sex in general," Mingi blurts," I'm not going to discriminate against bottoms," he hears himself say, and he tries for a smile. Seonghwa glances up at him, smiling shyly.

"Fine, pass me one," he sighs, and there's a smidgen of humour back in his eyes again. Mingi feels himself relax slightly.

"Like I'm one to judge," Yunho says sympathetically as he passes the shot, and Seonghwa smiles at him gratefully. There's a strange pang of something that churns in his stomach, and Mingi doesn't know what it is.

"Yeah, me… Me too," Hongjoong gestures at the shots, not making eye contact, and Mingi feels his eyes widen. The implications are too heavy to ignore, and he makes a mental note to ask about this when they're sober, when he's not in crisis himself. "Shut up Mingi."

"I didn't say anything!" He protests instantly, pouting. "I'm not judging, I'm literally not judging! You could be fucking…" he realises how drunk he is as he tries to gesture at the pair of them. "Multisexual, into monsterfucking, for all I care."

"Multisexual?" Yunho teases, sounding amused. "You mean, bisexual?" Mingi nods seriously.

That's probably what people would call him, if he thinks about it too deeply, if he explains the way he feels about people. But he also doesn't want to have this crisis when he's drunk, so he just nods again.

"Yeah, yeah that. I'm gonna, fucking, try stuff, and turn a fresh leaf, or whatever!"

It feels a bit like giving himself permission.

"Good for you," Yeosang says sweetly from the sofa, crunching crisps loudly. "The taxi is in about thirty minutes, should we try and corral Woosan now, in preparation?"

"Yeah, probably," Seonghwa sighs, standing and cracking his back with an audible pop. "I'll go get them, Jongho, baby, you ready to go in like, half an hour?" Mingi had kind of forgotten Jongho was even there, with how quiet he'd been, but the younger man blinks up, looking confused.

"Oh, yeah, bro, sure," he mumbles, apparently torn out of his thoughts. "Sounds good."

Mingi is very drunk. Fucked, in fact.

He can't really focus his eyes, and the music feels like it's vibrating his ribcage. He sees Yunho slip off from the group, and he follows without thinking. He would always follow the other man, he thinks, drunk enough that the thought doesn't even strike him as strange.

"Fuck, it's like, insane," Mingi shouts as he gets into earshot, leaning down before he slots into the space next to Yunho. He nods, smiling around his drink.

"Yeah, it's crazy," Yunho shouts back, and the pink-haired man plops his head down on the brunette's shoulder, overwhelmed. "You okay?" Yunho asks, too perceptive for his own good.

"I kind of want to get some air," he leans up to speak into Yunho's ear, swaying slightly with the movement. "Come with?"

"Sure," Yunho agrees, downing the rest of his drink and shuffling out of the booth. He helps Mingi out, makes sure he doesn't fall, smiles at him so sweetly. Being around Yunho feels so good.

Mingi slumps into a plastic chair, surprised at the way it wobbles, and Yunho laughs prettily. He helps Mingi light his cigarette when he's unable to stop his lighter shaking. He flicks his sunglasses up onto his forehead to look at Yunho better.

"Thanks, you're such a good friend," he blurts, grinning, "You're so cool."

He doesn't really even register what he's saying, words spilling out of him without resistance. Yunho's expression flickers minutely.

"You're so drunk," the taller man laughs, sitting down in the chair next to him and scooting closer. Mingi can't disagree.

"I'm glad you moved here, Yu," Mingi announces, and even though he's so drunk he can barely see straight, he means it. He places his hand on Yunho's thigh without thinking, and the man glances up at him, ears significantly redder than they were a few moments ago.

"M-Me too," Yunho stutters, and Mingi rubs a thumb on his leg casually. The alcohol is loosening his movements, making him too bold, and he swallows hard to gather himself.

Yunho's looking at him with a strange expression, something the younger man can't place. He's so beautiful in the outside lights of the venue, the scatter of loose glitter on his cheekbone, the clump of mascara clinging to his eyelash, his slightly chapped, slightly parted lips.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" Mingi says abruptly, desperate to break the moment, leaning back in his chair with a thump. Yunho looks a bit dazed for a second before he shifts back too, tilts his head.

"What? Like… What?" Mingi glances at him.

"Like you meet someone and they just… They make sense, it all makes sense," he can hear his own sadness in his voice, watching Yunho closely, unable to put into words what he's trying to say. He averts his eyes, embarrassed at himself.

"Are you talking about Arin?" Yunho asks, voice suddenly too sharp, and Mingi feels the horrible stab of hurt in his chest before he can register the way he looks up.

"No," he whispers, and he's being honest. She didn't even cross his mind. "I'm… I'm not."

He blinks at his hands, thoughts rolling. he doesn't even know what he's talking about anymore, too drunk and emotional to understand the way his veins thrum when he's with Yunho, the way he always feels warm. He swallows.

"Seonghwa thinks I should block her."

"I mean, yeah," Yunho makes it sound like it's obvious, the only option. Mingi supposes it probably is, now. "I know it's not my place or whatever," he mumbles, suddenly shy. Mingi shakes his head instantly, intrigued.

"No, I… I want to know what you think," and he wonders if that's too raw, too close to something that's still tangling in the pit of his stomach. "Tell me."

Yunho blinks at him, seemingly surprised.

"I just don't think… I don't think it's a healthy think, Min," he says softly, eyes down on his own hands. "Relationships are supposed to make you happy, and she just… She doesn't seem to make you happy."

The brunette glances back up, making eye contact tentatively. Mingi can't stop himself rom staring at him. Yunho makes him happy. He shoves that thought away like it's made of hot coals.

"Yeah, she doesn't" he says suddenly, sniffing. "But she… She needs me, I think?" His voice sounds unsure, even to his own ears.

"No, she doesn't," Yunho snaps, and Mingi doesn't quite understand the irritation in his voice, surprised by it. "She takes advantage of you because you never say no. If you told her no, she would find someone else to cling to."

Mingi lets that sit for a second. It's not like Yunho has lied. Seeing a third-party's perspective, especially from someone like Yunho who only seems to see the good in people, is jarring, but helpful.

"You think?" He whispers, even thought he knows it's true. His chest hurts. Yunho glances up at him, eyes wide.

"Even if she doesn't, Min, you deserve to be happy. You…" His eyes dart down to Mingi's lip, and his pulse speeds up rapidly, pattering in his chest. "You deserve someone who actually loves you, doesn't keep hurting you."

Like you? Mingi begs to ask. Would you hurt me Yunho?

"Right," he manages, feeling dizzy with it all. "Yeah, I mean, you're right," he mumbles, leaning back in his unstable chair. His thoughts are a tangled, knotted mess, and his blood alcohol level only hinders his brain processing. He sighs to himself.

"I tend to be," Yunho murmurs, obviously trying to ease the tension. He appreciates it. "You'll work it out, Min, it'll be okay."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll be okay," Mingi whispers. He's confused about who he even means by we.

Arin turns up at 10:30 AM, looking hungover and pissed off. he knows that he's probably woken her up, and the way she's squinting at him through hooded eyes only confirms that she is probably still stoned, still drink or maybe both. She shoves her sunglasses over her eyes and pouts at him.

"What?" She asks shortly, walking into the apartment like she owns it. Mingi sighs, shutting the door, gesturing to the couch.

"We need to talk about… This," he says lamely, pointing between the two of them. "I can't do this anymore Arin, I need a proper, clean, break. You… It's fucking with my head." He can't stop the words spilling out of him, suddenly so exhausted with it all that he just wants to get it over with.

He hasn't quite gotten his head around his own emotions, why Yunho's words keep replaying in his head. Arin just blinks at him, eyebrows raised. She doesn't seem to understand either, and he can't truly blame her.

"What? Who's been telling you this shit?" Arin snaps, lifting up her sunglasses and rummaging in her bag for some gum, popping it into her mouth.

"Who… What? No, Arin…" Mingi tries, feeling unsettled. He doesn't understand what she's talking about, why she thinks someone else has been getting into his head. Like he can't make decisions by himself, like he's so easily led. But it's the truth, really, because Yunho's words swim around his brain on a loop, making his stomach roll uncomfortably.

"Was it that guy you were staring at outside the store?" She accuses, sudden and bitter.

"What?" Mingi feels knocked off-kilter by her accusation. "Yunho?" He didn't think he was staring at anyone, but the realisation that maybe he was makes him feel a bit unsettled. His chest throbs painfully.

"Yeah. You guys got all close real quick, what's that about?" she spits, and Mingi just blinks at her, caught by surprise. He wasn't aware she was paying attention, let alone making opinions on it. He frowns, not liking her tone.

"What, no, he's my friend, Arin, what are you saying?" he can't keep the obvious confusion out of his voice, and she rolls her eyes, slumps back in the sofa. Mingi can't bring himself to sit down next to her.

"Friends?" She mimics, mocking, disbelief on her face. Mingi doesn't know who she's mocking at this point, and he frowns deeper, irritated all over again. He doesn't like Arin talking about Yunho like this.

"Yeah, friends, Arin, is that not allowed?" he sounds petty, mean, and he hates that he's sunk to that level.

"Is he gay?" She asks abruptly, and he doesn't know when the conversation completely derailed, but he can't keep track of what she's asking, why she's asking. "Are you?"

"What? N-No?" Mingi truly doesn't know if he's even lying anymore, shaking his head. His head hurts, from the hangover, from the torrid thoughts whirling around his head. "You know I'm not, 'Rin, what are you talking about?"

"Fine," she concedes, "But he is?" She insists, and her expression is tight, mean around the edges.

"Yes? Does… That matter?" He asks, and she just stares at him for a long moment with furrowed eyebrows. "Arin, it's just not healthy anymore. We need to move on… This is just- Come on, you know it's fucked up." His voice quavers, like he's begging, and he hates himself for it.

"Right," she mutters, bringing her leg up onto the sofa, resting her head on her knee. "Fuck okay, whatever," she pouts at nothing, no one. "Whatever, actually, you're so fucking…" She shakes her head, and she looks more angry than upset. Mingi isn't sure what he was expecting.

"Arin, I'm sorry, I just… We deserve to be happy," he hears himself saying, and she snorts in amusement, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief.

"And I don't make you happy?" Arin asks, expression foul as she looks back over at him, brushing her hair off her face. "And this random gay guy does?" She spits the word like an insult, and Mingi bristles.

"Why does it matter if he's gay? That's not… That's not relevant?" Mingi is struggling, hangover catching up to him, chest tight and uncomfortable with the way Arin's speaking. "It's just, it's over, properly this time, Arin, I mean it."

"Right," she mutters, getting to her feet, rolling her eyes. She looks out the window for a long second before she scoffs, shaking her head. "You know what, Gi, you can go fuck yourself."

"'Rin… "he mutters, hit with a wave of fatigue, emotional and physical. "Please."

"No!" She shouts, taking a few steps towards him so she can shover her finger in his chest. "You said you'd be there for me no matter what!" she yells, and Mingi cringes at the idea of Yunho hearing it, sleeping in the spare room. His throat is dry as he swallows. He doesn't know why he's thinking about the brunette man when his ex-girlfriend is right here, jabbing at his sternum.

"Arin, you said it was over, like a year ago, why… You don't want me, you just use me," and her eyebrows fly up her forehead, shocked. But it's the truth, they shouldn't have kept doing this when their relationship was over almost twelve months ago.

"Use you?" She repeats loudly, sounding offended, like Mingi hasn't just hit the nail on the head. "You think I use you?"

"Arin, just…" he gestures tiredly at the door, "Can you go please?"

"Fine," she shouts, and her keys rattle loudly as she storms over, rips the door open. "Have fun fucking your new boyfriend," she spits, nasty and childish, and then she's gone, door slammed behind her. Mingi isn't sure why those words gore through him so hard, leaving his chest open and spilling viscera on the hardwood.

Mingi isn't sure how long he stares out the window before he hears the padding of feet, feels Yunho's presence behind him. The brunette clears his throat awkwardly, and Mingi has to blink a few times before he can arrange his face into something less pinched and horrible.

"Hey, morning, did you sleep okay?" and Mingi feels himself taking a few steps forward before he realises he can't just hug Yunho like that. He swallows, not sure what's going on with himself anymore. His head's spinning, his chest hurts and he just wants to crawl into Yunho's arms and never leave.

He doesn't want to think about what that means.

"Was someone here? I heard voices," Yunho asks, sounding confused, and Mingi freezes for a split second before he sighs, sinking into the sofa.

"Y-Yeah," he admits, "Arin was here."

"Oh," Yunho mutters, and he sounds disappointed, hurt. Mingi doesn't understand, too hungover and emotionally wrung out to consider the implications of that, doesn't want to.

"N-No, not- God, no, not like that," he lifts his head up to look at Yunho, can't quite read the emotion on his face. "I was telling her, I… I told her it was like, over. Properly."

"Oh," he says again, but his voice sounds different this time. Softer. "She took it badly?" He guesses, and Mingi just nods, too tired to explain the details of the situation.

"Yeah, I knew she would, though," he mumbles, because honestly, he did. He knew how it was going to go, and that's one of the reasons he's been putting it off so long. He doesn't want to think about what finally made him change his mind. "But, I'll block her number, and then I guess I just… Won't know if she's upset still or not." He's suddenly hit with a stab of guilt, a sharp reminder of his promises to be there for her. Yunho sits next to him with a thump.

"You really aren't going to see her again?" he asks. Mingi doesn't know what's going on with the older man's voice, but it sounds tense. Tight.

"Yeah, I mean, that's the… That's the goal, anyway," he picks at his thumbnail to distract himself, still feeling a bit tender.

"What changes?" Yunho asks abruptly, and Mingi stares at him, eyebrows pulled high in surprise. He doesn't know what to say.

He can't admit the truth because he barely understands it himself. Hates the way his stomach churns and his lungs feel breathless as he tries to figure out his own feelings.

"What?" He blurts instead, searching Yunho's face desperately for some kind of clue. Maybe he's thinking about their conversation last night, but Mingi has been actively avoiding replaying it as much as possible — with limited success — and the idea of speaking about it makes him feel nauseated.

"The… The guys, they say they've been trying to make you do this for like, months," Yunho looks at him, eyes doing something strange. "Wh-What changed?" His voice wavers and Mingi watches him closely, confused and hungover and tired. So fucking tired.

"N-Nothing," he lies, not even sure if he's lying anymore, brain too wound up to even consider unravelling right now. "I just, you know, decided, it was time," it sounds false, even to his own ears, but Yunho takes it at face value.

"Right, well, good," he says, a bit stiff, and Mingi tries his best to smile despite the way he feels completely wrung out.

It feels a bit more manageable when Yunho suggests breakfast, and Mingi can't help but tease him over his sweet tooth, grimacing at the idea of eating something so sweet so early in the morning. Yunho laughs, and their knees knock together gently where they're sat on the sofa together. Mingi wonders why he can feel the touch there for minutes afterwards.

It's easy to fall into normality with the older man, easy to let himself bask in the warmth he brings. Yunho's like a bright light, and he lies in it selfishly, wallowing in it. He considers the risks, the chances of him getting burnt. He isn't confident of his chances.

The buzzer rings, and he goes to let the delivery guy in, mostly distracted by the way Yunho is trying to explain the plot of some anime that Mingi sort of remembers watching in high school.

He opens the sticky door, and Arin flies past, furious and obviously on something if her actions have anything to go by. Mingi freezes, overwhelmed and shocked.

"You can't just decide! I get a choice too, and I'm saying no!" She shouts, planting herself in the middle of the room and yelling. Mingi blinks slowly, still processing.

"Arin…" he manages, but that's about all he can get out. All he wants to do is eat shitty, greasy food in bed with Yunho, maybe have a nap, watch some stupid anime. He doesn't know if he can cope with this right now. Yunho stands awkwardly, and Mingi burns with the realisation of the situation. He's about to open his mouth, but Arin interrupts.

"Who the fuck are you?" She spits, giving Yunho a nasty look, and Mingi doesn't know what to do with the choking anger that rips through him. She rubs her nose, sniffing, movements jerky, and Mingi feels his heart sink in his chest.

"Yunho, we met outside the convenience store," he says, politely, despite the obvious coldness to his words, and she raises her eyebrows in disbelief, sends Mingi a scathing look.

"Okay, well, can you get the fuck out?" She commands, and Mingi can't stop the way he walks over, stands between them.

"What the fuck, Arin, no," and he can't stop the harshness of his voice, irritated and unable to keep it in his mouth. "Yunho's my friend, you don't get to order him out, this is my flat."

"Mingi, come on," she tries, batting her eyes up at Mingi like that'll make him change his mind. He discards the irritation that bubbles at her manipulative behaviour. "We need to talk about this…" he shakes his head, points at the door.

"No, you need to leave. Did you not listen to me?" Mingi doesn't know how what he said could be misinterpreted, how she doesn't see the situation for what it is. Maybe she's high enough that his words aren't making sense to her anymore.

"You'd rather hang out with your lame friend than talk to me about our relationship? Gi, that's actually fucked up," and she sounds unreasonably pissed off, not used to not getting her own way. Mingi frowns, subtle irritation merging into true anger as he watches her.

"What relationship?" He blurts, and his voice displays his apathy. "We weren't in a relationship, you said that yourself months ago. And, you made that very clear by fucking your plug!" Her eyes widen a little, shocked by the fact that he's bringing it up, despite the way she made no attempts to hide it. "And even if we were, it's fucking over, Arin."

He wonders if he sounds as tired as he feels. Yunho shifts awkwardly behind him, and he's hit with a pang of something strange and unnamed in his chest.

"Sorry, Yu, just…" But he doesn't finish, because Arin interrupts, again.

"So, you're choosing him over me?" She asks, cold and mean. Icy. Mingi's eyes snap over to her. He's not surprised she's bringing it up again, going for a cheap shot, but it does nothing to stop the way his brain is frazzled, spinning. Because, honestly, he is. He's choosing Yunho over Arin. He doesn't want to consider that any deeper, doesn't want to look at what that means.

"Arin, can you just…" But she's staring at Yunho, looking him up and down.

"What, you think you have a chance?" She spits at the brunette man, who looks somewhere between baffled and hurt. Mingi doesn't like the expression on his face. "You're a fucking small-town loser who knows nothing about Gi, and think you can come in here and try and fucking indoctrinate him into your weird, gay shit?"

Mingi is filled with such an all-encompassing wave of anger that he can't move, suddenly so irritated that it feels too hot in the room, too small. Erin gathers saliva in her mouth, spits at Yunho's feet with an audible splat.

Mingi sees red.

"Go fuck yourself," she bites out, and Mingi is on her before he can think about what he's doing.

"Get the fuck out," he hears himself snap, grabbing her upper arm and guiding her to the door, pushing her harshly. "Get out, never contact me again, I'm serious, get out," and he shoves her, probably too hard. She looks furious, high, drunk and angry, and it's not difficult for him to slam the door in her face.

He rests his head against the door for a brief second before the banging begins, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It's instinctive to hold Yunho's arm, softly this time, and move him to the bedroom. Pulling him into the safety of his room. He fiddles with the speakers in an attempt to drown out Arin's noise, the pounding on the door. He feels so fatigued that all he wants to do is crawl onto Yunho's chest and sleep.

"I'm sorry," he lets his head fall into his hands, angry, upset, confused. His head hurts. "What the fuck, what the fuck."

"Min, it's okay, it's literally not your fault, in any way," Yunho reassures him, like he's not the one who's just been spat on. He knocks into his shoulder gently, affectionate. "I've heard worse."

That doesn't particularly make Mingi feel any better, and a horrible, sharp pang of grief works its way through his chest.

"That's so fucked up, she fucking spat at you!" Yunho just shrugs, looking surprisingly unbothered. There's a little beat of silence where the older man looks around the room, obviously searching for something to say.

"Your room is nice," and it takes a few seconds for Mingi to process what he's said, a little giggle falling out of him semi-deliriously. He takes it for what it is, a chance to move on, a chance to break the tension. He appreciates it.

"Thanks, Yu," he mumbles, knocking his shoulder into Yunho's in return, meaning it more than he thinks the older man understands. He's so exhausted, he really just wants to curl up in bed and never leave. He flops back, patting the space next to him, and Yunho falls next to him easily.

"Are they real constellations?" Yunho asks abruptly, and when Mingi looks over, the brunette is staring at the ceiling. He glances up, suddenly embarrassed. It feels exposing, letting Yunho in like this, even over something so small and stupid. He swallows dryly.

"Yeah, I… You don't see the stars much here," Mingi tries to explain. "Because of the light pollution, so I just…" he gestures vaguely, the horrible knot of emotion at the pit of his stomach tightens, the unnamed thing growing and taking root. He gnaws his bottom lip.

"That's cool," Yunho mumbles, looking back at the ceiling. Mingi watches him. "It's really pretty."

"Yeah?" Mingi murmurs, distracted by Yunho's side profile, the way his doe eyes move around the ceiling, the way his lips are slightly parted. "Yeah, it… It's pretty," he adds, not sure what he's really talking about anymore. Yunho glances at him, blinks.

"You okay?" he whispers, and Mingi has to tear his eyes away, nodding. He stretches slightly, reaches for Yunho's hand without truly thinking, seeking comfort. He slots his fingers in between the brunette's longer ones easily. It feels natural, normal.

"Yeah, I'm… I'm good," Mingi isn't sure if he's lying or not. "I'm okay," and he squeezes Yunho's hands for comfort, pulse fluttering in his chest at the contact.

The older man shuffles closer and brings their hands up onto his stomach. Mingi moves tentatively, rests his head on Yunho's shoulder softly. His heart pounds in his chest, but as he lays his ear against the older man's body, he can hear the thudding of a heartbeat, raised and fast. He isn't sure who it belongs to.

The takeaway gets forgotten, phones discarded somewhere in the room, and Yunho stays. He lays there, smoothing the back of his hand with his thumb. He stays.

Mingi's heart blooms with something strong and thick, and the pink-haired man squeezes his eyes shut desperately, shoving it down as far as he can. He can't think about it, not now.

He's not sure he wants to think about it ever.

It's been about a month since they had the conversation about Mingi's sexuality. It's not been brought up since, even if it's been spiralling around the back of his thoughts everyday since then. In fact, he's been purposely avoiding bringing it up, preferring to catastrophise on his own, in the safety of his apartment.

He stumbles across it completely by accident. He's scrolling through the gay section of Pornhub, feeling weirdly guilty, shuffling to shut his blinds and his door, like he doesn't live alone and isn't in the dark. Yunho's words echo around his head, and the more he thinks about it, the truer it feels.

He's probably not straight.

If he's going to have a sexuality crisis, the least he can do is commit to it, he supposes. He pauses when the thumbnails on the page load, a tall, lithe man with black thigh highs, knelt prettily in front of the camera, grabbing his attention. He glances around the room like he's going to get caught, and then clicks on it anyway. He doesn't want to ponder any deeper about why it catches his eye.

"I've been waiting," the faceless man says, rubbing himself through his jockstrap, and Mingi almost chokes on his own saliva.

He sounds like Yunho, spookily similar, and for a brief, deranged moment, Mingi wonders if the older man has ever done porn. If he's stumbled across his secret account. But the man speaks again, and he can pick out the slight differences, can see the tattoo on the man's forearm that he would have definitely noticed on Yunho. It doesn't stop the way his heart is racing.

His brain whirs for a second, stuck on wondering if this is the part where he's supposed to click away. While his brain is loading, the guy keeps talking, keeps breathing into Mingi's ear.

"I've been a good boy, I promise," his voice sounds tinged with desperation already, and Mingi can't stop himself from reaching down, pressing the heel of his hand into himself at the pang of heat that shoots through him. He's half-hard already, and he watches with wide eyes as the man on screen whimpers.

The guy shifts, pulling himself out of underwear, strokes himself slowly. His hands aren't as big as Yunho's, smaller and softer, less masculine. He doesn't want to know why he hyperfixates on that.

"F-Fuck, thank you," he moans, and Mingi feels his face flush hotter, his dick harden further. "Feels so good," he realises abruptly that he's still holding his hand pressed against his cock, and he moves it away, ashamed of himself.

He scrolls down and looks at the related videos out of curiosity. He intends to find a video that sounds less weirdly similar to his friend, his new friend, who's already shown him too much kindness for Mingi to be repaying him by being horny and weird.

But the account has more videos, and Mingi finds himself clicking the next one without thinking.

"I got dressed up for you," fake Yunho says, fingers trailing along the collar on his neck, a pretty black thing with a silver tag dangling off it. Mingi's hips twitch of their own accord, and he doesn't know when he got so hot, feels it burning in his stomach.

"Am I pretty?" the man asks, rubbing his hands up and down his chest, playing with his nipples. "Just for you, Sir," he adds, and Mingi dick jumps headily. He blinks, surprised at himself.

"I'm your pup, so you can do anything you want to me," he murmurs, right into Mingi's ears through his headphones. "I'll be so good for you."

"Fuck," Mingi mutters to himself, eyes darting around the room like he's going to get caught. He didn't expect himself to have such a strong reaction, not sure if it's the kink of it, the fact it's a man, or the fact it sounds like Yunho whispering in his ear.

"Sorry," the pretty faceless guy whispers, dropping to his knees on the screen, letting his tongue loll out for a second. "Use me as you like," he murmurs and starts lapping delicately at a semi-realistic dildo, moaning softly.

"Shit," Mingi groans. His hips hump forward mindlessly, and the slight friction of his trousers makes him shiver.

"Tastes so good," his voice floats through the headphones, so close to Yunho's that it feels scary, and Mingi thinks he might combust with the desire flowing through him, the way his dick is throbbing. His hands drift back of its own accord, the ball of his hand pressing into his aching hard-on.

"Oh, f-fuck," the guy on screen stutters, and Mingi's eyes snap back to where the man is spreading his legs, fucking a dildo into himself slowly. "Shit, thank you, f-feels so good, fuck," he babbles, and his cock smears precum uselessly against his stomach. Mingi's own dick twitches hard, and he grinds himself slowly into his hand, can feel the way he's leaking against the fabric of his pyjamas.

"God, so b-big," fake Yunho moans, and Mingi can't stop the way he groans to himself. He can't stop the way his thoughts are spiralling, the way he's inserting Yunho's face onto this pornstar. "G-God, fuck," he whimpers, and Mingi's brain provides the images.

He drops the phone onto the bed, using the audio and his own thoughts as he finally breaks, shoving his pyjamas down clumsily so he can grab himself, spitting hastily in his hand.

"F-Fuck, Sir, please," Yunho moans in his ear, sounding desperate and needy. Mingi thinks of Yunho's lips, his long fingers, the way he flushes all down his neck. He wonders what he'd sound like moaning Mingi's name. "I can take it, I'm good, I'll be good," he begs, and the pink-haired man can't help but picture himself feeding his cock into Yunho's mouth, the brunette blinking up at him, wet-eyed and begging.

He cums all over himself so fast that it takes his breath away.

He's probably not straight.

They're already pretty drunk when the thought comes unprompted into Mingi's mind. Yunho's sat next to him, laughing at something Wooyoung's said, and the younger man rolls his eyes, turning to Mingi.

"Your turn, who are you asking?" he prompts, sipping his beer, "and you can't do me again, I just went."

"Hm," Mingi mumbles, tipsy enough that his thoughts and words are looser than usual. "Yunho, truth or dare?" He blurts, eyes locking onto the taller man easily.

"Dare," Yunho says instantly, taking another gulp of beer. Mingi thinks he's probably the only one who's noticed that the brunette has been avoiding truths all night, and he blinks at him for a second.

"Get on your knees and bark for me," he hears himself saying, and Yunho laughs, obviously drunk enough that he doesn't hear the way Mingi's voice has dropped in pitch. "Be a good puppy."

"You're a freak," Yunho chuckles, placing his bottle on the side table and dropping to his knees in front of Mingi's legs, looking up at him. "You want me to bark?"

The easy obedience makes the pink-haired man feel dizzy for a brief second, inebriated and drunk with power. He swallows, saliva thick in his mouth, and Yunho looks up at him. Mingi thinks his pupils are a little more diluted than they were.

"Yeah, you're a puppy, aren't you?" Mingi teases, even though his stomach is curling with it all, he can feel the heat of it building in his gut. "Or, you could do a truth?" He suggests, and Yunho rolls his eyes.

"Fine, you're such a weirdo," he concedes placidly, and brings his hands up, clutched into paw shapes. His hands are trembling a little. "Arf, arf," Yunho barks, using a 'paw' to rub at Mingi's knee. "Woof!"

His ears are red hot against his brown hair, and there is a strange, distant look in his eyes that Mingi doesn't recognise.

"Damn, you suit it Yu, maybe you were meant to be a dog," Jongho comments from the corner, and the brunette's eyes widen as he comes back to reality, dissolving into giggles. He's oblivious to the way that Mingi has frozen, the bulge in his jeans. He's hard as a rock.

He feels the warmth of it all rush through him, embarrassment and heady attraction flushing through him in a thick daze. His mouth is dry, only comparable to when he smokes too much weed and is too lazy to get water. His tongue unpeels from the roof of his mouth.

"Yeah, you're a good Pup, hmm?" Mingi manages to as least try to be normal, reaching to ruffle Yunho's hair. It takes him a moment to realise that's probably nowhere close to normal.

The older man glances up at him, and his eyes are a little wide. There's a second of silence, a moment where they stare at each other before Mingi manages to get his brain back online.

"Your turn, who are you asking?" He says, hoping that Yunho's return to the sofa will maybe dampen the raging erection in his boxers. The brunette is still a pretty shade of pink as he grins at Mingi, and the moment is gone.

"Oh, okay, Seonghwa!" Yunho calls, turning from where he's still sat on the floor, leaning against Mingi's legs like a backrest. "Truth or dare?"

Mingi doesn't remember what anyone else says for the rest of the night, desperately trying to will his boner down. The weight of the other man's body against his legs does nothing but remind him of his presence, and it takes longer than he wants to admit before he can even pretend to tune back into the conversation.

Yunho glances at him a few times, eyebrow twitching in concern or maybe amusement, and Mingi smiles at him even though he's ears are bright red and burning. He hopes he can blame it on the alcohol.

Everyone wanders out as it gets closer to 1 AM, wanting snacks or sleep. Mingi lets them go, and Yunho hugs him goodbye, the last one left, smiling as he pulls away.

"I'll see you Friday, yeah?" Yunho asks, and it's easy for Mingi to grin in return, reach to pat the taller man's head softly, endeared. He likes being the recipient of Yunho's smile, loves the way it feels warm in the glow of it.

"Sure thing Pup, looking forward to it," the nickname slips out, too much alcohol in his system, too much blood in places that aren't his brain. He's about to open his mouth to backpedal, but Yunho blushes pink, averts his eyes.

"Y-Yeah, me too," Yunho stutters slightly, but looks back up at him despite his apparent shyness, even though his flushed cheeks. Mingi wants to kiss him.

That thought rocks through him with some vague urgency, and he's baffled for a second, long enough that Yunho gets out the door, waving.

"Later, Min," he says softly, something in his eyes that Mingi doesn't understand.

"Text me when you get home safe," Mingi blurts, and Yunho smiles gently, nodding.

"Of course."

As soon as the door is shut behind the brunette man, Mingi sinks onto the sofa and stares directly out the window, curtains still not drawn despite the late hour.

He wants to kiss Yunho.

He tries to compartmentalise it. Maybe it's because he's confused, trying new things now that he's officially broken it off with Arin. It's the first time in a long while he's had the freedom to do so, maybe his brain is simply taking that idea and running with it.

Or, maybe it's because he trusts Yunho, deeply and suddenly, already attached despite the short time they've been friends. Because of the way he can already feel his ribcage expanding with his unnamed adoration, splintering as they crack open, making room for Yunho to crawl his way inside.

Maybe it's just because Yunho's so pretty, so kind, so good. Attractive. Anyone with eyes can see that Yunho's hot, he justifies. He knows he finds guys hot, always kind of has, only confirmed by his recent Pornhub visits. He shouldn't feel this disoriented when presented with a hot man in real life. It's just basic biology, seeing an attractive man and reacting to it, he tells himself.

He closes his eyes, flops back on the sofa. He's still kind of hard, thoughts of Yunho dropping to his knees coming to his mind unbidden. Now he has a real visual, it's worse. He's not even touching himself and he's already hard again, just thinking about Yunho knelt below him, blinking up at him with his big doe eyes.

It's confusing, the way his emotions are swimming through him, the alcohol in his system not helping him think properly. So, he ignores it in favour of slinking into his bedroom and bringing up the video again, the username already memorised.

He doesn't think about it, even as he gasps over Yunho's name, cums all over his stomach.

He doesn't think about it.

Mingi's probably drunk too much, really. At least, that's what he tries to blame, sick of thinking about it, sick of worrying about it.

He isn't sure if he's irritating Yunho at first, but then the brunette turns to him with a soft smile, warm and happy, and whatever he was even worried about leaks out of his brain.

It's easy to be close with Yunho, he reasons, especially now as he watches him laugh, trailing down the road, turning to make sure Yunho's with him. The street lights reflect off the asphalt, still damp from the rain of the day before, and Yunho glows.

They get to Yunho's flat easily, and it excites him to get to see inside the older man's apartment, to see inside his life. Maybe he's being sentimental, but it feels a lot like being let inside the older man's heart. Yunho seems strangely nervous, and the pink-haired man refuses to look into it further. He's too drunk to let himself spiral.

They make small talk until he asks to see Yunho's room, too excited to wait much longer, and lets the older man lead the way. He pokes around the room quietly, until he glances over at the brunette and sees him looking at the small row of photos above his mirror with a strange expression on his face.

"Oh, just…" Yunho mumbles, and he tugs at his ear, looking shy.

Mingi goes to the easily. Maybe it's greedy, too pushy, but he seeks information about the other man like a moth searching for a flame, entranced by the cracks of light he's being shown.

"That's me!" Mingi hears himself exclaim, focused on the photo. It's a group photo, sort of, Mingi in the forefront, grinning, and the other's somewhat out of focus in the background. He doesn't let himself read into that. "Oh, this is cute, this was from Wooyoung's birthday, right?"

He glances over his shoulder, searchingly, and Yunho nods, looking embarrassed.

"I just printed out some photos from my phone that I thought were like, nice, or whatever," he tries to explain himself, ears red. Mingi doesn't understand why the other man is so nervous. He turns back to the photos, curious.

"Who is this?" he asks, and there's a second of silence before he feels Yunho's presence behind him. He thinks his heart might stop for a split second, but he ignores that with an efficiency that Japan would be proud of.

"M-My older brother," Yunho's voice sounds weird, and Mingi doesn't like it, turns instinctively.

He misjudges how close Yunho actually is, suddenly face-to-face with the other man. His heart makes up for stopping by drastically picking up its pace, thrumming in his chest. He searches desperately for a distraction, because he suddenly wants to kiss Yunho with such intensity that is shocks him, slight panic clenching in the pit of his stomach.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Mingi whispers, and Yunho shrugs, eyes shifting.

"He… He's not, uh," the brunette looks uncomfortable, and Mingi's about to jump in to tell him that it's okay, that they don't have to talk about it. Yunho speaks suddenly. "He's dead."

Mingi blinks at him, wide-eyed. His chest aches for a moment, for Yunho, sudden and sharp, and he wonders why all of his emotions feel so intense around the other man.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Yu, I…" He doesn't really know how to finish his sentence, but Yunho carries on anyway.

"It's okay, it's been a long time, I'm… It's okay," he murmurs, a sad little smile on his face. He glances at Mingi, between his eyes and his lips, before he takes a step back, pointing at the next photo. "That's my old friend from home, Minho, we call like, every week."

Mingi spins, takes the image in. Yunho's young in it, probably only thirteen or fourteen, standing next to a kid who's still got most of his baby fat, with braces and thick glasses. It's endearing.

"Cute," Mingi mumbles, hopes the blush that's spreading across his face isn't noticeable. "You were cute!"

And he isn't lying, Yunho's sweet as a teenager, all awkward limbs and edges, slightly unflattering haircut only serving to make him look cuter.

"Shut up," Yunho jokes, nudging his shoulder into Mingi's playfully, tension dissipated. "I was like, fourteen."

"Aw, baby Yunho," Mingi teases, and Yunho glances up, a proper smile on his face. It makes the pink-haired man feel warm again, soft and safe.

"And that's my Auntie Boksoon," he says, gesturing at the last photo. It's a little old lady, waving at the camera mid-laughter. It makes Mingi's lungs tight, just for a second. He can see the love in her eyes. He doesn't know much about Yunho's life, but these photos suggest a lot. "I miss her."

"Do you get homesick?" Mingi asks, turning as Yunho slumps back onto the edge of his bed, bringing his legs up to his chest. He looks small, like he needs to be protected, and Mingi aches to hug him. He doesn't know what's going on with him.

"Not really," Yunho murmurs, "Just for her."

Mingi finds himself moving to sit next to him without thinking, his feet moving of their own accord.

"I miss my mum too, sometimes," he hears himself whisper, and Yunho's eyebrows raise, looking surprised. "She died, like, a few years ago." He hopes Yunho understands what he's saying, because he's so bad with words, so bad at speaking. Yunho's expression softens, and grief pulls on the edges of his eyes. Mingi feels himself moving to pull him into a hug, unable to stop it.

Yunho shakes under his hands, sniffles quietly. He feels so tiny in his arms, even though he's taller than the pink-haired man, and Mingi squeezes him softly, aching with something so strong he doesn't quite know what to do with it. His hand drifts to the small of Yunho's back, desperate to reassure him.

"Sorry," he mumbles after a second, and Mingi finally lets go, blinks at him. The tension feels a bit weird again, thick, and he casts his eyes around for something to break the mood.

"I like your room," he tries, and Yunho laughs at him. "It's nice, sick PC by the way," he jokes, and the brunette grins up at him, so beautiful in the soft lights of the room. He wonders why he can feel his pulse rise, the flush of his face.

"Thanks, Min, I'm glad you like it," Yunho says softly, "Now we know each other's deepest darkest secrets, have we levelled our friendship up?" It makes Mingi laugh despite everything, and he leans his head on Yunho's shoulder, endeared.

"That's the nerdiest fucking way you could have said that, Pup," he chuckles, but then pauses, the strange weight still hanging in the air between them. "I feel like…"

"Mmm?" Yunho hums, reaching to scratch the back of Mingi's head. It pauses for a second, and Mingi pouts, too tipsy to think about what he's saying.

"No, keep scratching, feels nice," he whines, and Yunho's hand carries on its movements. "But, yeah, I feel like I owe a secret, feels uneven right now," he hears himself saying, at the strange level of drunk where he can't quite stop himself from speaking.

"Mmm, what type of secret?" Yunho prompts, sounding curious, and Mingi moves off his shoulder. He feels suddenly nervous. It feels too big for the room, like maybe this is the thing that'll change their friendship forever. But Mingi wants it so badly, is so greedy.

"I… The…" he looks around Yunho's face, searching for anything. His expression gives Mingi no clues. "I've been thinking about like, my sexuality or whatever." He whispers it, like maybe Yunho won't hear it despite how close together they are.

"Right, yeah," Yunho looks a little worried, eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, what I said about you being maybe not straight doesn't mean like, you aren't, or whatever, I was just…" Yunho's rambling, and it's sweet, the realisation that he thinks he's responsible for Mingi's crisis. Which he sort of is, but not for the reason he thinks.

"No, I don't mean-" Mingi interrupts, and he can feel how hard he's blushing already. "You were right, I think." Yunho stares at him. "I… I want to kiss a guy."

Yunho nods slowly, eyes darting frantically over Mingi's face.

"Yeah, I mean, as long as it's chill with everyone involved, like, experimenting is cool, you know?" Yunho's voice sounds strangely strained, and Mingi doesn't want to look at him, doesn't want to see the expression on his face.

"Th-That's kind of what… I… Want to do it with someone I trust," he looks up at Yunho, so nervous that he feels hot and cold all at once, something burning through his veins.

"Right," Yunho whispers, and he looks somewhat vacant. Mingi doesn't know if he understands what he's trying to say. "Yeah, that's… That's a good idea," he searches around Mingi's face for a second, blinking slowly. Mingi realises he's going to have to just ask point blank.

"Can I kiss you, Yunho?" He asks, in a wave of bizarre courage, heart pumping so fast he can feel it in his jaw. There's a brief second where the older man's eyes widen, but then Yunho nods gently, eyes shifting to an expression Mingi doesn't recognise, and he feels himself diving in before he can overthink it further.

He cradles Yunho's jaw, his waist, pushing himself as close as possible. It's not even intentional; his body moves him flush to the older man without his brain being an active participant. Yunho kisses him back instantly, pushes closer too, and as he cups Mingi's cheek, his hands tremble. The pink-haired man doesn't think he's ever felt so dazed in his life. Mingi nudges his tongue at the seam of Yunho's lips, desperate to taste him, more of him, enchanted. He feels like he's on fire.

Yunho lets him in, reciprocates, and Mingi feels himself getting hard, despite both of them being fully clothed. He slips his hands to the small of Yunho's back, pulling him closer, before he realises what he's doing and pulls away, suddenly breathless.

He inhales shakily, staring at Yunho. His eyelids flutter open, and he looks dazed too, cheeks flushed and pupils dilated. Mingi needs to gain some semblance of control over the situation before his heart beats its way out of his chest. He doesn't want to bleed all over Yunho's nice jeans.

"I…" and he looks at Yunho carefully, nervous. "Thank you, for doing that, for me." It comes out a bit weird, even though he means it, in a way, but he's currently trying to wrestle down a boner, and he can't stop looking at Yunho's flushed cheeks.

"Of course," Yunho says softly, kindly. "Thanks for trusting me."

Mingi nods, still feeling a bit stunned.

"Right," he hears himself say, and blink at nothing, suddenly hit with a wave of fatigue. "I'm really tired," he mumbles, and Yunho giggles prettily, flops on the bed. He pats the space next to him.

"It's late, just stay here tonight," Yunho mumbles, stretching his arms up above his head, exposing his stomach. Mingi glances at it without thinking and hates that he has to swallows at the happy trail he notices. He looks away, nods.

"Sure, can I borrow something that won't suck ass to sleep in?" he asks, suddenly hyperaware of his jeans, the denim rubbing against his skin.

"Yeah, but if you smoke in it tomorrow morning, shove it in the laundry," Yunho concedes, nodding, and Mingi grins, pleased.

"Sweet, thanks Pup."

Mingi wakes up alone, and he squints blearily at the empty spot, confused. He sits up, and Yunho walks in, sees him, smiles at him. He looks pleased, fond, and that makes Mingi's lungs feel empty.

"Wha' time is it?" Mingi slurs out, still sleepy and disoriented, and Yunho turns to the wardrobe.

"Like, 10:30, I made coffee and toast though," he says, rummaging in the cupboard. Mingi blinks a few times, stretches. He really wants a cigarette, but he also wants to spend time with Yunho.

"Come out for a cig with me?" He pleads, and Yunho turns back, throwing him a hoodie, like he already knew Mingi was going to ask. He's grinning, light spilling over the younger man as he directs the beam of it directly at him. He feels warm.

"Sure, I'll bring the toast; you can grab the coffee?" He says, and Mingi nods, rolling his way out of bed.

"Mmm, sure Pup," he mumbles as he pulls the hoodie on, enjoying the scent of it. "Thanks."

Mingi can't stop watching as Yunho laughs, nudging his knee against the pink-haired man's bare thigh as he giggles, sipping the bitter coffee with a wince. He tries his best not to think about kissing Yunho, even as it springs to his mind, unbidden.

"What do you even do for work?" Yunho asks suddenly, leaning back against the railing, gesturing with his mug. "I feel like I should know."

"I write music," Mingi answers easily, eyebrows furrowed. He's surprised Yunho doesn't already know. "Freelance for a few different idol companies," he smiles at Yunho's wide eyes, preening at the way he looks impressed. "Did I never tell you?"

"Damn, no, you didn't," Yunho sounds impressed too, and Mingi grins, pleased with himself. "So are you like, rich rich?"

"Why? You looking for a sugar daddy?" Mingi wiggles his eyebrows to play it off as a joke, despite the way his stomach rolls at his words. "But yeah, I'm fine, comfortable or whatever," he saves it, and Yunho snorts into his mug.

"Damn, that's so much cooler than fucking…" he gestures vaguely. "Insurance." Mingi can see where he's coming from, and it's obviously that Yunho doesn't like his job.

"What do you even insure?" He asks, curious about it, curious about Yunho. He lets a stream of smoke out his mouth and Yunho's eyes drop to his lips for a brief second.

"Old people, mostly," Yunho says, eyes snapping back up. "I mean, it's like, life insurance and investments and stuff, it's boring." He sounds embarrassed, slightly, and Mingi's hit with a strange pang of something, deep in his chest. He doesn't know what to say.

"Oh damn, yeah, that's…" He doesn't know what words to use. He hates himself for a brief second, irritated at his lack of speaking ability. "How did you even get into that?" Yunho shrugs, bringing his legs up onto the step, knees to his chest.

"I just applied for a lot of internships straight out of university, knew I needed something stable and with good money, considering I couldn't move back home," he admits, casually. Mingi tilts his head, confused.

"Why not?" He blurts, throwing his dead cigarette on the floor.

"Oh, well," Yunho glances at him, searchingly. "The gay thing."

Mingi feels a surge of strange anger and grief rise in him for a moment before he swallows it down, reaching to wipe his mouth.

"Oh, that's fucked up." He says stupidly, feeling knocked off-kilter for some indescribable reason. "Fuck them."

"Yeah," Yunho mumbles quietly, "Fuck them."

There's a long beat of silence where Mingi tries to get his brain back online. He's slightly too hungover to let himself dwell on it, moves on.

"Are you happier here?" He hears himself ask, and cringes, apparently also too hungover to apply his brain-to-mouth filter. He watches Yunho, and as their eyes meet, his heart thumps headily in his chest, almost bruising. His ribs creak a bit further, and the older man settles his way into the cavern there, wrapping around his leaking heart.

"Yeah, I am," he says, and he looks like he's telling the truth. He smiles, so pretty and genuine that Mingi feels himself grow warmer just by being its intended audience. "A lot happier."

Mingi can't stop the way he blushes, suddenly shy. His heart is pounding, and he feels too hot, burning up.

"I've been happier, too," he mumbles, and he can hear the shyness in his voice. "Since you've been around."

He doesn't know why it falls out of his mouth, honestly, hungover and flustered and distracted by Yunho's pretty smile. It feels a bit too close to something he hasn't even admitted to himself yet, too raw. He's left feeling exposed by his own words.

"I'm a good influence, obviously," Yunho teases, knocking his knee into Mingi's coaxing him to look up. He knows his face is probably burning. Yunho places a hang on his thigh, soothing and soft, rubs it slowly. Mingi feels his heart rate slow slightly.

"You are," he insists because, despite his embarrassment, he means it. He wants Yunho to know that he's important to him, even if he can't put it into words properly. "Thanks for being around, I guess," he mumbles, still embarrassed at himself, hiding his face into Yunho's shoulder for safety.

"You're welcome, Min," Yunho murmurs, and his voice sounds a bit different, something clinging to the vowels. Something like affection. Mingi doesn't dwell on it, doesn't let the hot bubble of sensation inside him grow any bigger.

He's still hungover when he gets back to the flat. He's still hungover when he gets a notification that he's been tagged in an Instagram post, something of Wooyoung's.

Maybe that explains the shock of irritation that runs through him when Changbin decides to comment on the post, something that on any other day, he'd probably laugh at.

@jutdwae: understand why junie was asking about hot guy lmao !!

@fixon_non: go away!!!! tell him to GO AWAY !!! leave yu alone !!

He replies with a petty stab of jealousy, pouting at nothing, and throws his phone onto his bed with a frown.

What's wrong with him?

He's tried blaming the alcohol and the feelings in the moment, but it doesn't justify the way Yunho occupies almost all his thoughts. He can't stop thinking about kissing Yunho, how he liked it, how he wanted to do it again, more, forever.

He blinks at himself, shocked by his own thoughts. Maybe he's just confused, maybe it's just because Yunho's the first gay guy that he's known, been so kind to him, let him kiss him. But it also doesn't explain the way he gets so fucking hard thinking about him, addicted to imagining the older man on his knees, looking up at him.

Maybe it's normal, actually, he tries to convince himself. People talk about gay awakenings all the time, and maybe Yunho's his. Maybe that's how it can stay, just someone who helped him through his confusing sexuality crisis. He doesn't have to assign any of his strange feelings to it; he doesn't even have to think about it.

He wonders if he's fucked up, fantasizing about Yunho like this, because now being around him feels dangerous, like he might just fuck up and kiss him. Again.

Being around Yunho makes him feel like he can ask for what he wants, and he thinks that might be dangerous, in the end. Because all he seems to do around Yunho these days is want.

He wants to fuck him.

That thought crashes through Mingi's brain like a derailed train. His eyes snap open to look at the ceiling, the stupid glow-in-the-dark stars that barely even produce light anymore.

He wonders if Yunho would let him, and then hates himself for thinking about it, rolling over to shove his face in his pillow.

But he can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop thinking about the way Yunho nodded, let him lean it, kissed him back. The way he trembled under Mingi's hands. He desperately tries not to picture it, but he can't help it, brain tumbling in spirals as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Mingi pictures it too clearly, asking Yunho if he'd let the younger man touch him, if he would teach him. He can picture the way Yunho would nod, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He can almost feel the way Yunho's hand would scratch at the back of his head and the way he'd guide him through it gently.

Mingi blinks, gasping when he realises he's humping pathetically into the mattress, already rock hard without noticing. He whines, rubbing his hand over his face, torn between desperately horny at the images in his head and horribly guilty for picturing him this way.

The horniness wins out, and Mingi palms himself over the borrowed sweats. Borrowed from Yunho, he remembers with a pang, hips jerking mindlessly. He strokes himself through the material, dizzy with it, so hard it aches. The sensation of the sweats over his cock makes him groan, can feel the way he's leaking precum already.

He thinks of Yunho pinning him down, rubbing him over the fabric, laughing at the wet patch forming on the grey material.

"Look at you," dream Yunho says, voice so easy to picture, only helped by the audio likeness on Pornhub, and he gasps to himself. "Leaking so much for me, baby."

He's kind of shocked at himself, the way it's so easy to picture, the way it sends molten heat licking up his spine. He isn't sure he's ever been so horny in his life.

"S-Shit," Mingi whispers to himself, shoving his hand down his sweats. He grips his drooling cock, already desperate and squirming, leaking all over himself. "Fuck."

He pictures Yunho smirking at him, laughing as he strokes him. He pretends his own hand is Yunho's big one, jerking him off, hard.

"Oh baby, you're doing so good for me," Dream Yunho coaxes, sounding pleased, proud. It makes him whimper into the empty room, head falling back. He slips into the fantasy easily.

"P-Please," he begs no one, and the Yunho in his mind coos, reaching to stroke his cheek.

"It's okay, you're being so good, a little more, yeah?" the older man's voice is so easy to picture in his mind, sending scorching waves through him, skin thrumming with the heat.

"Y-Yu," he mumbles, voice breathy and weak, speeding up his movements. "Oh fuck, c-close," he says, in too deep to even consider that he's speaking out loud, so close that he can taste it on the back of his tongue.

"Cum for me, baby," dream Yunho whispers, and Mingi's orgasming before he can even take a breath, shocked by it's intensity. He shudders through it, smearing semen all over the inside of the borrowed sweatpants, obvious through the material. He shivers at the imagery, dick twitching.

It takes a few seconds for the guilt to kick in.

It takes another ten minutes for Mingi to decide maybe it's time to do laundry after all.

"I think I like guys," Mingi blurts, three weeks later, hunched on his hyung's uncomfortable kitchen chairs. Hongjoong raises his eyes from where he's eating his noodles, blinks at him.

He's been thinking, doing a lot of it, actually.

It turns out not having a toxic ex calling you every other day leaves you with a lot of spare time. Maybe too much, in retrospect, because he's been thinking himself to the point of vague insanity, pacing his living room.

Which is how he ends up here, turning up at Hongjoong's unannounced.

"Oh, cool," the man says, muffled from the food in his mouth.

Mingi stares at him for a second.

He's panicking slightly, apparently not enough to be noticeable, which he supposes is a blessing. He grimaces to himself.

He's not sure what it is, not sure when his feelings have strayed into something so difficult to ignore.

"I'm freaking out a bit," he admits, and Hongjoong looks at him properly, raising his eyebrows in concern as he swallows his food.

"What? Why?" Hayden asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, reaching for his can of soda. "It's chill, isn't it?"

Mingi doesn't know if it's chill, if he's honest with himself.

He thinks he'd probably feel more chill about the situation if he didn't have memories of kissing Yunho playing on repeat in his head, if he didn't keep jerking off to images of Yunho teasing him, touching him. He doesn't want to tell his hyung about that though, not when his thoughts are still so muddled and confused.

There's a long beat of silence, and Hongjoong takes another mouthful of food.

"I kissed Yunho," he hears it falling out of him without permission, words slipping out without consent, and he feels himself burning pink as he announces it. Hongjoong's eyes snap up to his.

"What?" the smaller man chokes around his noodles, blinking rapidly. "Why?"

That's a pretty good question, Mingi thinks, because he isn't entirely sure himself. Because he wanted to. Because he was tipsy and Yunho was so sweet, so pretty in the low light of his bedroom. Because all he ever feels when he's around Yunho is want. He swallows.

"I wanted to?" and he hates that his voice wavers, sounding a bit like a question.

"What are you talking about?" Seonghwa asks as he sits down, stirring his own food to get the steam out. "Damn, 'Jongie, were you that hungry? Did you eat today?" Hongjoong shrugs at that, visibly bristling, eyes back on his mostly empty bowl. Mingi glances between them curiously.

He still hasn't entirely figured out what's going on between them, doesn't know if it's his place to ask. It's not like he's blind; he sees the way they look at each other, the way they always have. He remembers what happened when they were playing Never Have I Ever. But he also knows how to read a room and decides to leave it alone.

"I was saying, I think I like guys," he repeats, and Seonghwa nods, tilting his head as he seems to consider that statement.

"And you're freaking out?" the silver-haired man prompts, blowing on his food. "You don't need to, it's okay."

"Well, I mean, I'm freaking out more because I kissed Yunho," Mingi decides to get it out, get it over with. Seonghwa stares at him blankly for a long second, and the eyes on him feel like a hot brand. He feels suddenly small, transparent. His nose twitches in discomfort.

"You think you like guys, or you think you like Yunho?" Seonghwa asks wisely, and Mingi's eyebrows furrow of their own accord, confusion rocking through him.

Does he like Yunho?

He's not even let himself consider it, not even over the mental hurdle of his torrid emotions towards his sexuality, let alone the muddy, churning whirlpool of his feelings towards the other man.

"Uh, I… Don't know?" he manages, bringing his legs up onto the seat of his chair, hugging his knees. "I just wanted to kiss a guy, and it's Yunho, and he said yes, so I… Did."

"Right," Seonghwa murmurs, glancing at Hongjoong, who has been watching them talk silently. "What did you say?"

"Asked why," Hongjoong mutters around the lip of his soda can, leaning back in his chair with a shrug. "He said he wanted to."

"Right," the eldest man repeats, looking down into his bowl like he's thinking, stirring mindlessly. "And he was totally chill with just kissing you?"

"I mean, he was surprised," Mingi mutters, feeling too exposed, raw. Like a specimen that's been flayed open for observation. "But he said yes. And he kissed me back."

Hard, he wants to add. Like maybe he wanted it too. Like maybe, just maybe, Mingi isn't the only one who feels this weird, unnamed pull between them.

"Oh, okay," Seonghwa says, still looking pensive. "Well, sure, do you want to kiss any other of your guy friends?"

"What, no?" Mingi blurts instantly, baffled as to where Seonghwa's train of thought is going. "Are you jealous?"

"What, no!" the silver-haired man yelps, eyes snapping up to Mingi's, looking affronted. "I just meant- You know what, never mind." He dismisses, rolling his eyes. Hongjoong snorts and takes another swig of soda.

"You'll figure it out, Minki," Hongjoong mumbles, looking something between amused and sad. Mingi's chest aches at it, and the older man averts his gaze. "Think on it."

Mingi doesn't know how to tell them that all he's been doing is thinking about it, and the conclusion he's drawing is starting to scare him.

So, he doesn't. He ignores it.

He's good at it, has gotten efficient at shoving those strange tugs of emotion down somewhere in the deep recesses of his stomach.

"If I do like guys, wh-what do I do?" Mingi asks, voice quiet, and they both look at him at the same time.

"Oh, Min, you don't have to do anything," Seonghwa sighs, reaching to pat him on the back reassuringly. "It's okay, you don't have to have a crisis about it."

"It's like, not that deep," Hongjoong comments unhelpfully over the top of his can, "You like guys, you like girls, you don't have to actually act on anything you don't want to."

That's the problem, Mingi wants to scream, all I seem to do is want!

"But what if I want to?" Mingi presses with a hint of desperation, keeping his eyes mostly on his own knees. He tries to not think about big hands pressing against him, brunette hair and long limbs. "What if I'm bad at it?" he whispers, suddenly struck with that thought. "Oh my god, what if I suck at giving blowjobs?"

The idea of being bad at it rocks through him horribly, and he wants to curl in on himself and disappear.

"With those lips, I kind of doubt that's gonna be an issue," Hongjoong jokes from across the table, and Seonghwa sighs again, reaching to slap him on the arm. The smaller man pouts.

"It's fine, Min, that's what experimenting is for, right?" The silver-haired man averts his eyes down to his food. "People experiment all the time, just like, communicate with the person, let them know you're new to it."

Mingi's brain clings to that instantly. Yunho already knows that's he's new to it, already knows about his semi-crisis, has already kissed him. He wonders if that's a good idea, considering the way his stomach rolls with a familiar tugging heat at the thought.

"Make sure you trust them," Hongjoong inputs, and Mingi catches the way he glances at Seonghwa before he looks away. "What about that guy that Woo knows? He's experienced."

"No way," Mingi dismisses that instantaneously. "He thirsts over Yunho every post, I'm not letting them near each other."

Hongjoong stares at him hard, and when he glances over, Seonghwa is staring at him too.

"What?"

"You're sure you don't like Yunho?" the eldest prompts, raising an eyebrow. Mingi blinks at him, before he realises belatedly how he sounded, possessive and weird. He cringes at himself.

"I… I don't know?" he manages, and Hongjoong's eyebrow furrow as he keeps staring at Mingi. "I mean, he's hot, and he's nice to me and I…" he pauses, thinking. "I liked kissing him."

"Right," Seonghwa says, yet again, snorting quietly to himself and shaking his head. "Tell him you have a crush on him, that you want to experiment. If he's chill with kissing you, he might be chill with helping you out with… That."

"You think?" Mingi mumbles, thoughts already rolling back to that idea all over again, not wanting to admit that he's already thought about it. "Wait, no, I don't have a crush on him, he's just… Attractive, or whatever. Everyone with eyes can see that," he protests, suddenly feeling a bit too warm.

He doesn't have a crush on Yunho. He just thinks he's cool. And pretty. And likes kissing him, And, yeah, being around him does feel like basking in sunrays, and yeah, he thinks about the older man when he gets off, but he doesn't have a crush.

"Mmmm," Hongjoong nods, looking disbelieving, but sympathetic. "Talk to him, see what he says, no harm in trying."

"Right," Mingi whispers, poking at his now cold food, distracted by his own brain. "Yeah, I'll talk to him."

Mingi doesn't know how he ends up at Yunho's if he's honest. He sort of starts walking and hopes for the best. His brain is a mess, thoughts confusing and inescapable, nothing working to distract him the way he wants. So, he seeks Yunho. He seeks comfort.

Yunho looks confused when he opens the door, but his eyes soften when he sees that it's Mingi at the door, and that sends a baffling pang of something through the younger man. He ignores it. He's getting pretty good at it.

"Hey," he feels abruptly shy, awkward. "Can I… Come hang out for a bit? My brain is…" he gestures vaguely.

"Sure," Yunho answers instantly, letting him in easily. "Do you want a tea?"

"Do you still have the strawberry aloe one?" Mingi asks, hopeful, toeing off his shoes and shutting the door behind himself. "That slaps."

"Ah, yeah, I got some more yesterday," Yunho grins at him, and Mingi can't help but grin back, enchanted. He feels better under Yunho's warm smile, feels less heavy and weighed down with his own whirling thoughts.

Yunho clatters around the kitchen for a few moments, and Mingi feels the words slipping out of him before he can stop them.

"How did you know you were gay?" He sinks further into the sofa as he hears the words leave him, embarrassed by himself. "I mean, you don't- I'm just…"

He doesn't mean to say it, didn't come to Yunho's apartment with the singular purpose of disrespecting his privacy, or pick his brains in an attempt to help his own whirling thoughts. But it falls out of him, too comfortable around the older man, too trusting that he won't judge him.

"It's okay," Yunho interrupts, sounding amused. Mingi's glad he doesn't find it invasive or rude. "I just…" he turns the kettle on, pauses. "I kissed girls and felt like, nothing, really. It was fine, but it wasn't like…" he searches for the word.

"Right?" Mingi suggests, and it's with a strange, marrow deep twist in his chest that he thinks of kissing Yunho again, suddenly yearning.

"Yeah, it wasn't right," he agrees, nodding. "But then I kissed a guy. And all the things I thought I was going to feel at kissing someone for the first time suddenly happened, and it was like, overwhelming? I guess?" He brings the mugs over and sits down next to Mingi. He reaches for his tea, desperate for something to do with his hands.

"Overwhelming bad, or overwhelming good?" Mingi presses, bringing the warm beverage to his chest. He thinks kissing Yunho was overwhelmingly good, but he doesn't think voicing that out loud is a good idea right now.

"Good," the brunette answers, placing his mug on the coffee table to cool. "Like the first time I made out with a guy, I was just rock hard, instantly," he shoots a wonky grin at Mingi, obviously trying to ease the tension, and Mingi snorts, letting it break.

"Oh my god, Yunho," he laughs, relaxing back into the soft cushions. It's so easy to be vulnerable around the older man, something addictive in revealing parts of himself to someone so unjudgemental. Mingi doesn't know if he's going to be able to build the walls back up once Yunho's bulldozed through them.

"It was nice to know I wasn't like, broken or whatever, I just… Liked guys," Yunho shrugs, leaning back into the sofa as well, and Mingi nods.

"Yeah, I can see that," he mumbles, wondering if he should mention the fact that he got hard kissing Yunho. What that means. If it means anything at all. He sips his tea too soon, burns his tongue. "So, you basically found out with your dick?" He teases, raising an eyebrow, and Yunho snorts fondly.

"Like a dowsing rod to water," he jokes, and Mingi can't stop the laughter that falls out of him, kicking Yunho's thigh playfully with his foot. The affection in him blooms, warm and huge, suffocating.

"Stupid," the pink-haired man chuckles, rolling his eyes. "Dumb."

He takes another sip of his tea, blinking to himself. Yunho shifts to look at him, crossing his legs.

"So… If, hypothetically," Mingi starts suddenly, and it feels hard getting the words out, embarrassing for reasons he can't place. He trusts Yunho, already so sure that he isn't going to get judged for what comes out of his mouth. "You get hard kissing guys and girls…"

Yunho makes a strange noise in the back of his throat.

Mingi burns as he realises how transparent that statement is, what he's essentially admitting. He stares into his mug. He doesn't want to take it back, despite the shyness that flows through him at the words.

"Bisexuality exists, Min," Yunho murmurs, and he sounds a little strained around the edges. Mingi doesn't know why, doesn't let himself consider it, even for a second.

"Right, but like, what if I just…" Now he's started, he can't quite stop, feels like Yunho has opened his hands wide and is catching all the gore and viscera of his churning confusion, keeping him clean.

It's a dangerous feeling, he thinks, something too open about the way he's willing to bleed out in Yunho's palms without considering his own safety.

"I think I like guys, and then I go and do something and just… Fuck it up," Mingi continues, and it's painful to admit that he main concern is being bad. He doesn't know why that feels more revealing than the fact that he's never done this before, as if the excuse of being new to things shouldn't apply to him. He doesn't want to dismantle that right now. "And then I'm just fucking some poor guy around an-"

He's reminded abstractly of the pain of his situationship with Arin with a nasty pang, breaks off mid-sentence. His brain feels like it's overheating.

"Woah," Yunho jumps in, putting a hand softly on Mingi's shoulder, like he's scared the younger man is going to bolt. "Min, you don't have to be so stressed about this," he murmurs, and Mingi looks up at him easily, seeking comfort. "It's okay if you try it and don't like it, it's not the end of the world."

Mingi frowns at that. The idea of not enjoying hadn't even crossed his mind, and he ponders what that might say about him.

"I want to try it," he confirms, maybe too fast, too eager. "I just don't like being bad at stuff," he admits, embarrassed all over again. He glances at Yunho, and Seonghwa's words flash through his mind unbidden.

He could just ask Yunho. He could open his mouth, ask, be brave for once in his life. He doesn't understand why it feels so suddenly scary when he trust Yunho with everything, has just vomited up his insecurities all over the older man's lap.

"Being bad at stuff is the start of being kind of good at stuff," Yunho assures him, shrugging like it's no big deal. Mingi bites his bottom lip, considering. His casualness soothes him, sounding genuine, soft, and Mingi feels the already thin barriers breaking.

"I… Would y-you…" And it hurts, how bad at speaking Mingi is, making his cheeks flush hot and his brain sting. "Sorry, I'm fine, I'm… God," he shakes his head, so nervous that his skin feels on fire, burning with it like sunburn. Maybe he shouldn't, maybe the squeezing of his chest, the thing he carries that he still won't name, is enough of a reason to stop this before it gets anymore complicated.

But like he always does, he wants Yunho.

"It's okay, Min," Yunho soothes him, so kind, so gentle. It makes his breath catch. "Breath though, 'cause you're worrying me."

"Sorry," Mingi cringes, trying his best to mimic Yunho's breathing.

He doesn't need to think himself into a panic attack right now. He just has to do it, open his mouth and ask. He thinks he'll regret it for the rest of his life if he doesn't at least try, doesn't at least get his mouth on Yunho at least once, even under the disguise of teaching.

"I think I've been thinking too much. Could you… Like, could we…" Mingi struggles to find the words. "I trust you.

He hopes Yunho understands what he means.

"I trust you too," Yunho answers instantly, and his eyes dart over Mingi's face, eyebrows furrowed like he's trying to puzzle something out. "What are you asking, Min?"

Mingi swallows dryly, placing his mug on the coffee table with a thump.

"I want to blow you, please."

He's trembling as he asks, eyes on his rings as he spins them to stop himself vibrating out of his own skin.

"Like teach me a bit, I guess." His eyes dart up to catch Yunho's gaze, and the brunette is searching his expression closely for something. Mingi isn't sure what he's looking for.

"Yeah, I can do that," Yunho murmurs, casually, and Mingi's heart stumbles over itself in his chest. He seems unbothered, like it's fine, and the pink-haired man isn't sure why his stomach feels so tight and uncomfortable when he realises the implications of how little the older man appears to care.

"I… I haven't done this before, s-so, don't judge me," Mingi mumbles, and he sinks between Yunho's legs easily. He hasn't, but he's been looking up as much advice as possible, plan already forming in the foggy corners of his brain before he'd even realised.

"N-Now?" Yunho stutters, sounding flustered for a moment, and Mingi glances up in surprise. He wonders if he's misread the situation, that potentially Yunho isn't as casual as he's pretending to be. But then he dismisses it. Stamps out the tiny speck of hope with the heavy boots of reality.

"Is that okay?" Mingi checks, and Yunho nods stiffly, hands flexing into the sofa. "W-What do I do?" He asks, and Yunho's eyes widen. Mingi tracks every micro-expression on his face.

"Um, like, well, usually there's some kind of like, foreplay?" Yunho's voice sounds a bit strange still, but Mingi just nods seriously. He wants to be good for Yunho, wants the older man to enjoy it too. "Most people don't just go straight for a blowjob."

"Oh right," Mingi mumbles, standing and sitting on Yunho's lap, feeling too big for his body, strangely tentative. It's just Yunho. He doesn't know why that sends his pulse pattering in double time. "I-Is this okay? Can I… Kiss you again?"

"Yeah," Yunho nods, "Go ahead, whatever you want," he gives permission, and that's all Mingi needs, his lips pressed against Yunho's before he can overthink it any further.

He likes kissing Yunho, so it's not exactly a chore to move forward, kiss him deeper, cradling his jaw. He can feel his hands trembling, hopes the older man can't.

He nudges his tongue in, soft, shy, and Yunho takes over, pressing deeper, kissing harder.

It's shocking, sends a pang of heat through to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel off-kilter, surprised somehow. Maybe because it feels like Yunho wants this. Wants him. He buries that thought as soon as shows it's face.

They make out messily for a few long moments, Mingi's brain growing fuzzier and more dazed with every passing second.

He can feel how hard he's getting already, only a handful of minutes passed, so turned on by the way Yunho is grabbing him hard, almost forceful, the way his cock is nudging into the older man's hip. It's so warm, dizzying, that Mingi almost forgets what they were supposed to be doing in the first place.

"C-Can I blow you, now?" He asks, breathless, and he knows he's probably scorching red all down his neck. Yunho nods silently, watching as Mingi slips back between his legs, lifts a hand to the waistband of the older man's sweatpants. "Yeah?" he double-checks, and Yunho nods again.

"Yeah," Yunho confirms verbally, lifting his hips so Mingi can pull his pants down just enough to get his dick out.

It's bigger than Mingi expected, and suddenly he feels nervous all over again, unsure if the amount of porn he's watched has quite prepared him for this.

Yunho's only half-hard, but it's enough for his cock to look massive as it rests against his stomach, tip pink and shaft stiffening as Mingi takes him into his hand.

"D-Do I just like, go for it?" He stutters, unable to stop the way his nerves show in his voice. Yunho's eyes soften.

"Like, uh," he starts, blinking hard, "you can like, lick and stuff first, like, use your hand as well, before…" Mingi nods at the information, taking it in, shuffling closer, getting a better grip. He dips down, glancing up at the older man as he licks a hot stripe across the tip of Yunho's dick. The man's expression flickers as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth.

Mingi can't pull his eyes away. He's already so hard, only worsening as he feels Yunho getting harder in his hand, and he can't stop watching the brunette's expression. Everything feels accelerated when it's Yunho speaking, looking down at him.

"Yeah, and um, like, you probably can't like, take all of it st-straight away," he trips over his words as Mingi licks over him again, runs his tongue experimentally over his shaft. It doesn't taste like much, like clean flesh and heat, nice against the muscle. "Like what you can't take you can use your ha-hand."

Mingi enjoys the way Yunho's voice shakes, wants to make him do it again, and that suddenly feels leagues more important than his own feelings about the situation.

He takes him into his mouth, tries to copy what he remembers from Pornhub, makes sure to cover his teeth like everyone on the internet says to. He sinks down slowly, still unsure, and when Yunho hits the back of his throat, he coughs immediately, blinking away the wetness that springs to his eyes.

"Shit," he murmurs, "you're big."

It falls out of him, almost like an excuse, and Yunho's ears go bright red as he leans back in, tries again.

He's not amazing at it, he doesn't think, what with his awkward rhythm and how much he's drooling, but Yunho's hands flex in the cushions beside him, expression darkening as Mingi tries his best, lip reddened by the way he's gnawing on it.

"Fu-Fuck," Yunho stutters, and his voice has dropped in pitch, sending a flutter of desire through Mingi's veins, thrumming with it. "Yeah, like that," he murmurs, "you're doing good."

It shoots a flash of heat through him, dick kicking in his pants as he keeps eye contact with Yunho, seeking praise.

"Mmm?" he asks, hopeful, even with his mouth full, and Yunho's breath audibly catches in his throat. A little leak of precum spurts into his mouth, and Mingi finds himself not minding the taste, enjoying the weight of Yunho on his tongue. He doesn't let himself overthink it, lets himself enjoy the moment.

"Yeah, you're doing good, yo-you can go a bit faster," Yunho says quietly, and Mingi tries his best, stabilising himself with a hand on Yunho's thigh, which is twitching under his hand. The compliments burn through him, boiling, and he makes sure to keep watching the older man's expressions, the gasps that fall from his mouth.

"Shit," Yunho whispers, "you're doing so good baby, fuck."

Mingi feels his eyes roll back at that, the praise making his dick throb, leaking headily in his underwear, precum spreading into the fabric. He wonders if Yunho will see it through his sweatpants and clock his praise kink instantly, and he drops his hand to his own hard cock mindlessly, pressing down hard, moaning under his breath.

He doesn't know if he's ever been so turned on in his life, and Yunho's hand reaches for his cheek. Mingi glances up, confused.

"Y-You don't have to… Fuck, Mingi, you don't have to make me cum," he mumbles, and Mingi pouts, pulling off reluctantly. He likes blowing Yunho, he realises, wants to make him cum, see it happen in front of his eyes.

"I want to," he says, and he means it. When he's around Yunho, all he seems to do is want, and he's too dizzy with arousal to think about how those words might sound falling out of him.

"Ar-Are you sure?" Yunho double-checks, and Mingi nods confidently, reaches back for the older man's cock.

"Can I?" he asks, and Yunho nods again, brings his hand up to the back of Mingi's head, scratching lightly. The sensation only shocked him back to his own fuzzy desires, his own fantasies, stroking himself alone in his room, and he dives back in before he does something embarrassing, like moan.

He tries his best, but honestly, his jaw is kind of aching by the time Yunho pants out, semi-grateful when he warns him.

"M-Min, I'm gonna cum," he grits out, and pulls sharply at Mingi's hair as he groans. The feeling makes Mingi's back arch as he moans, suddenly so turned on all over again that the rocking of his throbbing cock against his hand isn't enough.

Yunho cums with a strangled moan, hand gripping into his pink hair, keeping Mingi on his cock. The imagery makes him shiver, and he swallows as much of Yunho's release as he can, lapping over the head of his cock to clean up.

Yunho watches him with wide eyes. It doesn't taste great, if he's honest, but he thinks the imagery of it outweighs the slightly off-putting taste.

"Fuck," Yunho looks dazed, and Mingi doesn't know whether to be pleased or embarrassed. "You're good at that," he mumbles, and the pink-haired man doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think about what he's saying, preening instantly.

"I watch a lot of porn, I guess," he tries for modesty, casualness, shrugging, but as he leans back, Yunho's eyes dart down to where he's obviously hard in his sweatpants. "Was it okay?" He asks, feeling weirdly shy again.

"Shit, yeah, of course, Min," Yunho taps his chin softly, "Can I… Can I return the favour?"

Mingi's head snaps up quickly, and he can feel his face is too hot, burning from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. He nods, too fast, too desperate, and he clocks the weird expression in Yunho's eyes, something he doesn't understand. But selfishly, he can't bring himself to say no.

He doesn't know why Yunho's offering, the boundaries of this are already getting hazy, but something in the way the older man is watching him makes it impossible to move away. There's a tension between them that Mingi can't stop himself falling into. He wonders if he's being delusional, if Yunho feels it too.

"Y-Yeah, if… if you want to," he whispers, too horny to think about the damning implications, shuffling on his knees. "Wh-Where do you want me?"

"Let's swap," Yunho mumbles, pulling his sweats up and shifting so Mingi can sit in his place. Yunho falls between his legs with the ease of someone who's done this before, and he doesn't want to think about it, doesn't think he can when Yunho looks up at him like that from under his eyelashes.

"You're sure?" Mingi asks, and his voice is croaky, betraying his nerves. The brunette just nods, reaching for his waistband.

"Can I start?"

Mingi can't speak, just nods jerkily, watching with wide eyes as Yunho pulls his pants down to his thighs. He's so hard, can see himself leaking in little pathetic dribbles down his stiff cock, and he has to look away, embarrassed at the state of himself.

"S-Shit," he mumbles under his breath, and almost jumps when Yunho laps at the precum with his tongue, the sensation feeling magnified by some unnamed emotion in his chest. He takes his bottom lip into his teeth, so turned on that it hurts. "Fu-Fuck." Yunho looks better on his knees than he could ever have imagined.

Yunho blows him like it's his life's calling, wet and messy and mind-numbing. Mingi can't stop the way he's gasping out, the way the words fall out of his mouth when Yunho takes him down his throat easily, not even gagging.

"Holy sh-shit," Mingi gasps out, heat licking up his spine, every muscle trembling with it. "Fuck, fuck, fe-feels good, fuck," he can't stop himself from babbling. He's on edge from the start, desperate not to prematurely cum.

Yunho grabs his hand, guides it to the back of his head, and Mingi takes a second before he realises what the other man wants and grips onto his hair.

"Fuck, Yu, fucking Christ." He pushes gently on the back of Yunho's head, testing. He goes placidly, raises his eyebrow at Mingi's tentative movements, a hint of cockiness in his expression. It makes the pink-haired man burn with it. "Fuck, you take it so well," he murmurs, pushing him more, guiding the older man up and down his cock.

It's insane, making him feel deranged as he watches Yunho, trying not to blink so that he doesn't miss a millisecond of it. He can't stop talking, praises spilling out of him, engulfed in the scorching heat of it, incomparable to anything he's experienced before.

He wonders if this is what it's supposed to feel like.

"God, fu-fuck, Yunho, you're so good, shit."

He's torn out of his own thoughts by the sensation, and he can feel his muscles throbbing, so close that it feels urgent, gathering in the back of his jaw.

"Fu-Fuck, Yunho, fuck, fuck."

Yunho stares up at him, something in his eyes that makes Mingi's stomach roll even more, the heat licking up his spine suddenly unbearable, unable to stop it.

"C-Cumming, fuck, Y-Yunho," he stutters out, and it hits him hard, falling into his orgasm almost violently.

His head falls back, groaning as his hips jerk mindlessly, lost in it as it crashes through him. Yunho takes it so well, swallowing him down like it's easy.

"God, fuck," he chokes, and the brunette just catches the little drop of semen that spills out of his mouth with his tongue. Mingi watches, entranced. "Holy shit."

"You okay?" Yunho asks, and his voice sounds rough, fucked out. It makes Mingi's dick twitch despite the fact he just came.

"Yeah, fuck, like, fucking hell," he says eloquently, searching Yunho's face. He doesn't know how to put into words the feeling, not sure he's felt something so intense before. He blinks slowly. "God, that was insane.

He shifts to pull Yunho onto the sofa, concerned about his knees on the hard floor, shuffling his trousers up.

"Insane in a good way, or a bad way?" Yunho asks, and Mingi giggles, slightly delirious.

"Good way," he promises, suddenly sleep;y and craving touch. He settles against Yunho, across his lap, pulling the blanket over the pair of them. He's too tired and in the afterglow to bother letting himself think anymore, and just lets himself go lax against the older man. "Thanks Yu."

"You don't have to thank me," Yunho mumbles back, moving so Mingi can reach the TV remote, lets him choose something on the screen.

"Okay, then I won't," Mingi jokes, poking at Yunho's side. He pokes his stomach right back, laughing softly, and the slight tension in the air dissipates instantly, making Mingi giggle. He finds some random anime, something he remembers Yunho mentioning off-handedly a few weeks back. "You'll like this, I think," he mumbles, but his eyes are already dropping.

He falls asleep halfway into the first episode.

He's face down on Seonghwa's bed when he finally admits it out loud.

It's been a long time coming if he's honest, and getting it out of his mouth isn't nearly as hard as he expected.

Seonghwa's got his lint roller out, cleaning his room while Mingi mopes, quietly waiting for the younger man to be ready to talk about it. He appreciates Seonghwa's patience.

"I think I like Yunho, like… Romantically," he says abruptly, and to Seonghwa's credit, he just keeps cleaning. He seems mostly unbothered by Mingi's revelation.

"Okay, and how are you feeling about that?" The other man prompts calmly, peeling off the strip of used roller and throwing it in the bin, plopping down next to Mingi on the bed. He shrugs stiffly.

"I think I fucked up," Mingi whispers, and Seonghwa tilts his head. The younger man rolls over, stares at the white ceiling. The silver-haired man lies down next to him, offering his hand. Mingi clings to it gratefully. "I asked him to teach me how to do… Like, sex stuff," he murmurs, and Seonghwa's grip flexes minutely.

"Before or after you realised you had feelings for him?" he asks, and he rubs his thumb across the back of Mingi's hand soothingly. The younger man cringes to himself.

"Honestly, kind of after," he admits, and the guilt feels heavier today, less easy to dismiss. "I was confused, but then I kind of knew really, but I just didn't want to admit it and I-" he can tell he's starting to ramble, and Seonghwa sits up and pokes him in the chest, cutting him off.

"Min, you know how complicated things can get if you don't communicate," he points out, and Mingi pouts, hating that he's being confronted with the truth. "Talk to him," he says softly, and his hand rubs over Mingi's chest in small circles, comforting.

"I don't want to call it off, I… Is that selfish? I just… I don't want to lose him. He's my best friend." He realises as he says it how true it is, and he swallows around a dry mouth.

"Why do you think you're going to lose him?" Seonghwa asks, sounding confused, and Mingi blinks at him.

"What do you mean?" he asks, tilting his head.

"You're so certain he's going to call it off, why? Has he said he isn't interested in something more serious?" Seonghwa watches him with wide eyes, concern playing around the corners of his eyes.

Mingi shakes his head, still tangled in his own thoughts. He's barely gotten used to the idea that he has feeling for Yunho, brain churning with the way he's processing it. The idea of it being more serious, of Yunho wanting him hasn't even crossed his mind.

"W-What, no? I just… Yunho wouldn't want that, with me?" Mingi stutters as he speaks, wondering why he's saying it with such confidence. He falters, confusing himself further.

"Why not?" The silver-haired man prompts, still staring at him, and Mingi bats at his arm softly, squirming under the gaze.

"Oh my god, bro, stop staring at me like that!" He protests, not liking the hot burn of the older man's eyes on him. "I-I don't know, really, I just… Didn't consider that."

"What, that Yunho might like you too?" Seonghwa sounds genuinely a bit sad, and he feels the need to explain himself.

"It just didn't cross my mind," he says softly, shrugging, "Like, I'm not saying I'm not hot or whatever, I just… Didn't pick up on any signs, except- Well, okay," he thinks back, gnawing on his bottom lip.

"What?" Seonghwa jumps on him instantly, pushing his hands against Mingi's chest like he's giving him CPR. "What happened! Tell me!" He's cute, the excitement in his movements, and Mingi giggles.

"Oh my god, Seonghwa," he laughs, endeared by his enthusiasm. "So when I was blowing him, he looked like-"

"Wait, what?" Seonghwa interrupts abruptly, thumping his chest hard. Mingi winces.

"Ow, what?" The pink-haired man pouts, rubbing the space with his hand, soothing the sting. "What?"

"You blew him?" Seonghwa hisses, back to staring at him, and Mingi realises he didn't quite explain himself very well. He blushes, suddenly feeling exposed.

"Right, yeah, so I…" he looks up at the ceiling again. "I asked if I could blow him, if he could like teach me stuff. And he said yes, so I… Did."

"Okay, okay, and he was… It was fine?" The older man asks, rubbing his forehead lightly. He looks stressed.

"Yeah, and then he, uh, returned the favour," he whispers, and Seonghwa's jaw twitches. He isn't sure what the expression on the older man's face means.

"And you don't think he likes you?" Seonghwa asks, like he's just double-checking, and Mingi shrugs again.

He isn't really sure, thoughts still so tangled and confused, barely over one crisis before he appears to be falling into another. He sighs softly.

"I don't know, I just- He was so casual about it?" It hurts to remind himself of how simple it all seemed, how easily Yunho let him in. "I think he's probably done this whole experimenting thing before.

"Right, okay," Seonghwa pauses like he's trying to come up with a solution, like there even is one. "Honestly, Min, I don't know. This is complicated, and… Familiar," he averts his eyes, and Mingi glances up at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Are we talking about you and Hongjoong now?" Mingi asks, can't help himself from finally prying, and Seonghwa's eyes snap to his, wide.

"I mean-" Seonghwa tries, and Mingi tilts his head expectantly. He crumbles. "Yeah, it's like, basically the same thing, I guess, except Hongjoong is clear on the fact he doesn't want anything serious. Very clear." Mingi feels the pang of sympathy roll through him. He'd gathered as much, but it doesn't make it any more enjoyable to hear.

"Oh, hyung, I'm…" he tries, but Seonghwa shakes his head.

"I knew that he wasn't looking for anything like that when we started this. I promised I wasn't going to fall in- Get feelings involved," he dismisses, going back to stroking Mingi's chest absently, seemingly distracted by the fabric of the younger man's shirt. "I'm the one who keeps going back.

"So in conclusion, I should call this thing off with Yunho, right?" Mingi murmurs, and Seonghwa sighs, picking at the hem of the younger man's shirt.

"Min, I don't know for sure, but… I would talk to him about it, right? See where the boundaries are. It might not be the same." Seonghwa suggests, leaning back as he considers.

"You think he might like me back? Like, want something more serious? With me?" Mingi can't help but ask for reassurance, and Seonghwa's eyes soften, reintertwining their hands.

"I think there's a chance, at least. No harm in asking, right?" the silver-haired man murmurs, squeezing him softly.

"Right," Mingi mumbles, back to staring at the blank expanse of the ceiling.

He doesn't know how to feel about it all, if he's frank with himself, head spinning wildly. He's confused about his own barely realised feelings, and the possibility of Yunho returning them, how to even bring up something like this and communicate with the older man properly. It feels too good to even hope for.

"So, when you were blowing him…?" Seonghwa prompts after a brief pause, nudging his shoulder. "Tell me."

"Oh, right, yeah, he was like, flustered I guess? I don't know if I'm just being delusional, but he… He seemed into it? I think?" Mingi tries, unsure if he's just imagining it, projecting onto the older man.

"Hmm, and he reciprocated, you said?" Seonghwa asks, and Mingi nods, turning to look at the older man. "I mean, that's a positive sign, right?"

"You think?" Mingi checks, still unsure. He doesn't want to let the little ember of hope inside him grow out of control, not when he's been so good at stamping it down.

"You could ask him, you know, if he's into it. If he wants something more serious?"

"That sounds scary," Mingi mumbles, pouting. "What if he doesn't, and I still don't know how to finger a guy?" He speaks without thinking, and Seonghwa breaks, giggling slightly hysterically.

"Oh my god, have you asked him to teach you how to finger someone?"

"Not yet," he admits quietly, chewing his bottom lip again. "I was like, thinking about it, though."

"Thinking about fingering a guy, or fingering Yunho?"

That statement shoots through Mingi like a bullet through the heart, stinging and harsh, but he plays indifferent anyway, despite the way his heart is fluttering madly in his chest.

"What's the difference?" he murmurs, hoping he's doing a good job at acting cool, casual.

"I don't know, Min, what do you think the difference is?" Seonghwa reads straight through his attempt, and Mingi momentarily feels like a student being guided through a difficult equation. He doesn't think he knows the answer.

"Stop confusing me!" Mingi whines, rolling over to shove his face into the sheets. "I'll talk to him."

"Soon," Seonghwa says seriously, patting his back. "Talk to him soon."

He does intend to talk to Yunho, he really does, but then he's flat on his back with the older man's fingers brushing against his prostate, and the idea of asking about the state of their relationship sinks out of his brain.

It's easy to slip into it with Yunho, the weird pull between them so strong and heady that Mingi barely registers what he's asking until he's being pushed back onto the older man's bed, the sheets that smell so much like Yunho. It twinges sharply in his chest, like a stitch somewhere behind his ribs, much too high to be from overexertion.

"Oh, fuck," Mingi gasps out as the older man brushes against the bundle of nerves, scarily quick at finding it. "Shit, what the fuck?"

"Good?" Yunho asks, not stopping his exploration, and the pink-haired man tries to give him a flat look, tries to tell him to stop asking stupid questions. But then the older man presses against it harder, and all the thoughts melt out of his head.

"H-Holy shit," he whines, head falling back. "Shit, good, so good, please," he can't even bring himself to be embarrassed by the way he's falling apart, cock leaking onto his stomach messily, heat licking through him. He throws an arm over his eyes, already breathless only minutes in.

"Y-Yu, fuck," Mingi whimpers, clutching the sheets blindly, tightly, hips jerking of their own accord. He's so turned on that he can barely think, squirming unconsciously, chest heaving. "C-Can I have another?" He asks with a wavering voice, shuddering as he speaks. He's so desperate but suddenly shy, too aware of the way Yunho's staring at him, the way his lip is caught hard between his teeth.

"Of course, baby," Yunho murmurs, and his voice sounds a bit weird, rough and tight. "You're doing so good," he adds.

Mingi can't stop the moan that falls out of him, feeling the way his muscles flutter additively, waves of hot electricity thrumming through his veins. The praise shoots straight through him, scorching and thick, and his cock twitches obviously where it's drooling a little puddle of precum onto his abs.

"Pl-Please, fuck, please," he hears himself begging, out of body, not even sure what he's begging for. Yunho groans quietly, mostly under his breath, and Mingi whines shakily as he nudges another lubed finger in, massaging softly. "Pl-Please, please, c-close, fuck, fuck, Yunho, please."

"It's okay, Min, relax, baby, I've got you," he coaxes, so soft, so gentle, and Mingi feels the knot of it all gathering in the pit in his stomach. He's threads away from cumming, one word out of Yunho's mouth will probably send him over the edge, and he whimpers weakly as the older man strokes his leaky cock, slow and mind-numbing.

"You're doing so good, such a good boy," Yunho says, and Mingi can't stop himself from careening into his orgasm at his words, choking over a moan as he cums all over Yunho's long fingers, back arching as he trembles through it. He can barely breathe, barely see, as everything in him pulls tight and then snaps. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He rides it out jerkily, eyes squeezed shut as he pants over his weak little noises, muscles taking an age to finally relax. He flops back onto the mattress, blinking open his eyes, still shivering through the aftershocks.

"Fucking hell, what the fuck."

"What the fuck good, or what the fuck bad?" Yunho asks, bizarrely, slowly removing his fingers. Mingi snorts in amusement. Like it wasn't obvious from his reactions. Yunho grabs his shirt from where it's been thrown somewhere in the bed, and he wipes his hand, wipes Mingi's stomach gently. His heart flutters, and he grins up at Yunho, still dazed.

"Good, what the fuck good."

He tries not to think about it in too much detail, because as soon as he thinks about Yunho's fingers inside him, he gets so hard it makes him dizzy. It's paradoxically very difficult to think about much else.

His brain takes the memories and expands on them, dangerous and filthy. He thinks of Yunho pounding into him, taking him from behind. He thinks of Yunho mocking him, holding him down, teasing him. He thinks of Yunho praising him, telling him how good he's taking it. He cums all over his own stomach with a gasp of the older man's name.

He takes him by surprise, despite the way his fantasies were already heading, despite the way he reacted to Yunho's praise, despite all of the hints. He wants Yunho to fuck him,

It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't entangled with his feelings, the overwhelming knot of desire and affection churning in his head, somewhere behind his ribcage. He likes Yunho more than he should. It feels strangely vulnerable, the realisation, like that's somehow more confirming of his sexuality than him blowing the other man.

He tries his best not to be weird and maintain a vague semblance of normalcy around the other man, but it's hard. It is only made harder when he shows Mingi a photo that Wooyoung's taken, some snapshot of them on a night out.

Mingi remembers it vividly. He can almost picture the way Yunho's hands were on his waist, the way their bodies were so close together, no real excuse to be that near to each other. Yunho had looked so pretty in the strobe lights, complaining about the height of the beams. He couldn't stop staring that night, and it shows in the photo. His expression feels exposing, the way he's staring at Yunho feels too obvious, too telling.

Yunho appears unaware. He's not sure if that hurts or not.

"I don't get it," he mumbles, mostly to himself, and Mingi raises an eyebrow. He doesn't really know what to do with the horrible pang of grief that works through him, something nasty and insecure nagging at the back of his brain.

"What's to get?" Mingi dismisses, as casually as he can. "He probably just thought you wanted a nice photo with your best friend or whatever," he slumps onto the sofa, suddenly hit with a wave of fatigue.

Because that's what they are. Or at least, that's what he is to Yunho. He glances at the other man, tries to read his expression. He doesn't understand the look in his eyes.

"Yeah, you're right," Yunho mumbles, saving the photo onto his phone. He grabs the brunette's phone off of him easily, playfully, trying to break the weird tension he feels. The other man doesn't even put up a fight. He sets the photo as the background, grinning to himself.

"There, now you can be reminded of me every time you open your phone," he teases, thrusting the device back into Yunho's hand. "You're so welcome."

Yunho checks the screen and smiles. But there's something strange and tight to the edge of it. Mingi doesn't know what that means.

"Cute," he murmurs, and Mingi decides to scroll on his own phone to distract himself.

He doesn't mean to do it again. He has the intention to sit down and speak to Yunho properly, ask if there's any chance that he likes him back, ask if there is a chance they could do this more seriously, tell him that it means something more to Mingi now than it started as. But he doesn't. He stays silent.

He keeps hoping that Yunho will show some signs, will maybe initiate something to prove to Mingi that he feels it too, feels the strange tension between them. But it doesn't happen. Mingi starts to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, he's a bit delusional. He wonders if it's better to be aware of the fact it's unrequited, or if it was easier back when he still had hope.

He's asking before he can stop himself.

"It's probably not that different from fingering a girl," Yunho dismisses, and Mingi's eyes dart around his face, searching for something. His expression is blank. Neutral.

"Have you fingered a girl?" Mingi asks, and he can't stop the obvious tinge of hurt that spreads into his voice.

"I'm just guessing, he mumbles, shrugging, tucking his legs up onto the sofa. His eyes search along the newly repainted wall around the window, and Mingi shuffles slightly closer unintentionally.

"Teach me?" He whispers, even though he's pretty sure the older man is going to say no. No harm in asking, he tries to convince himself, "I… Can I try fingering you?"

"Do you even have lube here?" The brunette asks, and Mingi can't place his tone. he doesn't know if he's trying to find an excuse not to do it, trying to back out. He snorts despite himself, butts his knee against Yunho's softly.

"Yeah," he answers, not wanting to explain. "So, can I?" He wants explicit consent; he wants Yunho to say he wants it.

"Fine," Yunho agrees, and it makes his chest feel weird when he hears the slight resignation in the older man's voice. Like he's getting bored. That thought rattles through him headily, stinging all the way through his bones, to his marrow, down to his stomach. "Can we move to a bed or something, though?"

"Sure," Mingi agrees instantly, standing without thinking, and Yunho trails him to the bedroom, taking another gulp of beer. The older man barely makes eye contact as he strips and lies down.

Mingi shuffles between his long legs and pushes his thigh apart, rings pressing into pale flesh prettily. The pink-haired man can't stop staring at the way his fingers leave little red marks on Yunho's unblemished skin. He wants to mark him up.

"Rings off, probably?" Yunho suggests, and Mingi takes a second to register what he's asked, before he realises and moves to pull his rings off, dropping them onto the bedside table.

"Does it always feel as good as when you did it?" Mingi asks, dropping the last ring and shuffling back between the other man's legs. "Or are you just good at it?" he wants to ease the weird tension, wants to break the horrible feeling in the room. It feels too cold. Yunho, thankfully, laughs at that, finally making eye contact.

"I've had practice, I guess?" he mumbles shyly, and the subtle reminder that this isn't the same for Yunho as it is for him makes his ribcage ache. He swallows around his thick tongue. "Just go slow."

"Right," he murmurs, nudging his lubed finger against Yunho's entrance, pressing lightly. Tell me if I fuck this up."

"You won't, probably, Yunho says, and it makes Mingi snicker gently, still pushing his finger inside.

"The confidence you have in me is inspiring," he jokes, trying to keep the vibes of the room a bit lighter. "Oh, weird," he mumbles, mostly to himself.

"Weird?" Yunho parrots, and he sounds somewhere between amused and offended, sits up on his elbows to shoot Mingi a look. Maybe he's the only one who feels the weird vibes between them, Mingi considers, as Yunho pouts at him playfully.

"No, I don't mean you're weird," he explains, biting his lip to stop himself laughing at the expression on the other man's face. "I mean, it's weird, feels different than I was expecting." Yunho's eyes soften, a smile spreading across his face, and Mingi rolls his eyes. "Shut up, let me finger you."

"Fine, whatever," Yunho keeps pouting, but his eyes dance with mirth as he flops back onto the pillows. "You can move."

Mingi does as he's told, going slow like Yunho asked, and he doesn't really know if he's doing it right. The brunette is mostly staring at the ceiling.

"Where's the… Thing," Mingi mutters quietly, trying to move his fingers in the way that Yunho did to him, wrist kind of hurting from where he's twisting it. "This is harder than you made it out to be." He pouts, and he moves, shuffling to push Yunho's legs up further. He doesn't even think to ask, acting on instinct, and Yunho rolls his eyes, grabbing the back of his own thighs.

"I'll take that as a compliment, I guess," he jokes, voice light. Mingi thinks maybe he's the only one overthinking this. He tries to let it go. "You have to crook your fingers a little, like, upwards," he explains, and Mingi nods seriously, adds more lube to his digits. He rubs another finger against Yunho's hole.

"Is two okay?" He asks, and Yunho nods silently, gazing back up at the ceiling. "Upwards?" Mingi checks.

"Yeah, he mumbles, and Mingi notices him getting hard against his soft stomach. The younger man ignores the way that makes a thick heat roll through him, the way his dick jumps in his sweatpants. "Like you're beckoning something."

Mingi laughs at the description but does as he says, and Yunho bites his lip as a quiet gasp leaks out of him.

"There?" Mingi asks, prodding with more pressure, hopeful. He wants Yunho to enjoy it, wants to prove himself, then wonders where that thought came from. Yunho nods, visibly swallowing.

"Yeah, like, kind of," he readjusts his grip, moves his legs higher, "but like, further up?" he suggests, and Mingi's eyebrows furrow as he focuses, searching as best he can with the awkward angle.

It's easier now that Yunho's basically folded in half, but it's also wildly distracting, difficult to pull his eyes away from where his fingers move inside his best friend, the way the older man's hole is stretched around his fingers. He realises with a strange, hot wave of embarrassment that he's rock hard in his sweats. Yunho gasps suddenly, hands flexing.

"Oh, there?" he asks, pleased with himself, and Yunho nods jerkily, looking dazed. "Oh yeah, it feels like, a different texture." He comments, trying his best to sound casual despite the way he's burning from the inside out at the noises falling out of the other man's mouth.

"Y-Yeah," Yunho gets out between faster breaths, blinking hard, and Mingi stares at him. He's so beautiful, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as the younger man massages his prostate, flushed pink down his chest with it. "It's not like, al-always exactly the same, b-but it's around th-there," he stutters, and their eyes meet for a second before the brunette throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut. Mingi blinks, confused.

"It moves?" He asks, still moving his fingers, and Yunho chokes out a weak laugh.

"N-No, loser," Yunho manages, and it shouldn't make the horrible devotion in his chest bloom the way it does, being insulted, but he's so fond. "I mean, fu-fuck," he interrupts himself with a choked-off little gasp, and Mingi tries to be normal about it. "In different people and stuff, fuck, God." He squirms under the pink-haired man's hands.

"Oh, right," Mingi mutters, reminded of the fact Yunho's experimented, again, reminded of the fact that he's supposed to be learning this to use on other people. He doesn't think he wants to fuck other people. He parks that thought for later, desperate not to spiral while he's two fingers deep in Yunho, his best friend, the guy he's falling for. "Feels good though?" He asks, suddenly desperate for some sort of praise, anything to distract him.

"Y-Yeah, you're do-doing good, Min, feels good," Yunho reassures him, eyes still clenched shut as he shivers, rock hard and leaking, dick twitching when he hits the older man's prostate head-on. "You can add an-another."

"Right," Mingi grabs the lube, adds more to his fingers, clumsy with the spiral of his own thoughts. Yunho shudders.

"Fuck, cold," he grumbles, and Mingi looks up, catching his eye. Yunho looks sinful, bottom lip red and swollen from his biting, pink all down his chest, nipples hard and rosy. He wants to bite them.

"Sorry," he blurts, pushing his third finger in, struggling to focus. "Sorry," he adds again, "Okay?"

"Y-Yeah," Yunho whispers, eyes back to the ceiling, avoiding Mingi's eyes. "Good."

"Mmm," Mingi hums, managing to get the rhythm right, cataloguing every moan and gasp that falls out of Yunho's mouth. "Can you cum like this?" he asks, and Yunho nods jerkily, shifting his legs closer to his chest.

"Y-You don't have to-" Yunho starts, but Mingi moves, leans his weight on one of the brunette's thighs, needs to see him. He's mindless with the heat inside him, the horrible squeeze of his heart.

"Want to," he interrupts, unable to stop himself, speeding his fingers up. Yunho nods distractedly, trembling under Mingi's weight. He watches every micro-expression on his face.

"S-Shit," Yunho pants, and Mingi feels himself throb hotly in his trousers, aching with arousal. "M-Min, fuck, shit."

"Close?" Mingi asks, unsure how he quite manages to keep his voice level as he stares down at Yunho.

The brunette man opens his eyes, gasping quietly when he realises that Mingi is already staring at him. There's something behind Yunho's eyes that he doesn't understand.

"You're squeezing my fingers, baby," he murmurs, and he can't hide the desire dripping from his voice, the way it drops in pitch. Yunho whimpers, eyes tracking him closely.

"C-Close," he stutters, and Mingi almost groans at the way his muscles are fluttering around his fingers, the way he can feel him shaking under his weight. "Fuck, pl-please, shit, Min," he chants, and Mingi drinks up every weak little noise that slips through Yunho's teeth. "Please, please."

He can't stop himself from leaning forward, pressing his forehead against Yunho's without thinking. He needs to be closer.

"I've got you Pup," he murmurs, and leans forward, pressing a kiss against his lips. Like that's something they've already done. He doesn't even think about it. "You're so good, you're so good." It falls out of him without consent, words slipping into the air before he can register what he's saying.

"M-Min, fuck, fuck," Yunho pants into his mouth, leaning closer too, seeking his touch. "G-Gonna cum, please," he begs, and Mingi bridges the gap between them before he can consider the implication of what he's doing. He kisses him deeply, and he's sure the desperation he's feeling flows through the kiss.

Yunho cums hard. He clings onto the back of Mingi's shirt, almost sobbing as he spills his release all over his own stomach, untouched. The pink-haired man doesn't know what to do with that information, dick already leaking pathetically into his sweats.

"So good, you're doing so good," he whispers, slightly out of body, unable to stop watching the way Yunho cums, the way his eyebrows furrow further, mouth parted as he pants. "Good job Pup, well done," he says softly, slowing his fingers down.

"Fu-Fuck, fuck," Yunho chokes out, head falling back into the pillows with a thump. "Shit." Mingi chuckles, removing his fingers. Wipes them on the already sort of gross sheets. Yunho grimaces at him.

"I'll wash them tomorrow," he dismisses, and falls into the space next to Yunho easily, without thinking. "Was that okay?" He asks shyly, and Yunho glances at him, out of his peripheral vision.

"Yeah, you're a quick learner," Yunho mumbles, and he sits up with a wince. His voice sounds weird, and Mingi can't bring himself to move his eyes from the ceiling. He doesn't want to see the expression on the other man's face. "I need a shower."

"Mm, I think there are fresh towels in the dryer," Mingi says quietly, mostly distracted by the way his thoughts are already starting their torrid spiral, the way his chest hurts despite the way he's still rock-hard in his pants.

"Right," Yunho says as he stumbles off the bed, "Okay, be right back."

"Yeah, sure," Mingi tries his best to smile. "I'll order some food."

Yunho leaves, and Mingi rolls over. He doesn't think about why his cheeks are wet when he finally decides to get up and order food.

He fishes for Yunho's attention desperately, hoping, wishing.

Mingi posts a handful of images with a wild stab of courage, then throws his phone into the mess of his sheets. He doesn't even tag Yunho in them, despite their intention, too nervous, stomach rolling as he stares at his own, plain ceiling. Yeonjun comments, and Mingi replies with a horrible stab of jealousy he can't even justify.

Several days pass, and Yunho doesn't comment. He doesn't even like it.

Mingi decides to try again.

Maybe he goes a bit hard, maybe it's a little too revealing, to post the photos he does with the caption he does. He wonders if Yunho will even remember what he's talking about, or if he was too drunk. If the soulmates' conversation they had is now only his own private knowledge. But Yunho's distance is starting to hurt, and he just wants the man to at least acknowledge the posts.

He doesn't.

The next few weeks are semi-hellish, mostly due to the fact Mingi can't stop thinking about the way Yunho looked as he orgasmed beneath him, and also because the older man is quietly, but obviously, distant. He aches for Yunho's attention, preening when he turns to him, when he laughs at one of his jokes. It#s not obvious, at least, not to someone who doesn't spend so often staring at the other man. But Mingi notices.

He doesn't bring up the posts, doesn't bring up what they've done. Not that Mingi truly expected him to, slowly understanding that potentially, maybe, he'd read the room wrong. That Yunho sees it as what it is, experimenting with a friend to help them figure things out.

He wonders when it stopped being that to him.

It crumbles out of control on a random Friday.

They're probably too drunk, or at least, Mingi pretends that's why he's acting like this. Wooyoung keeps staring at Yunho and it's irritating him, making him feel itchy and too big for his skin.

"Why is Wooyoung looking at you like that?" Mingi murmurs, too possessively into Yunho's ear and leans closer to speak lowly to him.

"Like what?" Yunho asks, glancing up, but Wooyoung looks away. "I-I don't know?" he murmurs, and lifts a finger to his lips, confused. "Do I have something on my face?" Mingi takes the opportunity to lift his hand, gently grab Yunho's jaw and search his face.

"No, you're good," he murmurs, and he can't stop staring at Yunho. He's so pretty, flushed and pink with alcohol, leaning into Mingi's side. Maybe it's just the atmosphere, the drinks, but he's actually shuffling closer. "Your make-up looks really pretty today, Pup," he adds, and Yunho flushes pinker, blinking hard. Mingi doesn't know how to read it, doesn't understand the way the other man is acting. He drops his grip.

"I'll do yours next time," he jokes, and Mingi smiles, nods enthusiastically. He's more interested in the excuse to spend more time with the other man, glad he's initiating them spending time together, even if it's just an off-hand comment.

"Get a room, Christ," Wooyoung comments, sounding amused from across the table, and Yunho's eyes snap away, wide.

"Leave them alone," Seonghwa whines, already tipsy, reaching to slap at the younger man's arm. "You guys were the exact same for the first two years of your relationship." Mingi freezes, stares into his glass. He doesn't know why the silver-haired man has said that, doesn't know why he's acting like he isn't aware of their lack of relationship. Maybe he thinks Mingi has finally gotten the courage to talk to Yunho. He should have, by now.

"You still are," Hongjoong complains, beer bottle dangling between two fingers, leaning his arm on his knee, leg up on his chair. "You literally sicken me."

"That's homophobic!" San shouts, overly loudly, red-faced and tipsy. "You're literally being homophobic!" Mingi's just glad that it's distracted the others from the words that just fell out of Seonghwa's mouth.

"Oh my god, stop shouting." Yeosang cringes, hiding his face in his hands, embarrassed. "People are staring at us."

Yunho catches Mingi's eyes, searching for something, and the pink-haired man just looks straight back. He doesn't understand the look in the other man's eyes, doesn't know what he's looking for.

"Ignore them," Mingi blurts, and his eyes dart away, suddenly nervous. "They're being stupid."

He doesn't even know what he means, doesn't know why his ribcage aches, why his blood feels bruising as it works through his veins. He drinks some more and keeps Yunho close to his side. He feels knocked off-kilter, like he's taken a blow to the stomach and can't quite get his breath back.

Yunho shuffles closer.

Yunho is grinning at him as he shoves the front door with his shoulder, drunk enough that the way it sticks feel different, out of his routine. Like he's experiencing the world slightly to the left.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks, as soon as they've kicked off their shoes and fallen onto the sofa. He wants to ask what they are. He wants to ask if he's fucked it up. he wants to ask if he's lost Yunho because he was just too greedy. wanted too much.

"Mmm?" Yunho hums, turning to look at him. "What?" He looks tired, Mingi realises, tight around the edges. He second-guesses himself. He swallows the words back down and searches for something that would be believable to ask in these circumstances.

"Your brother…" he mumbles, then trails off, wondering if that's even any more appropriate. "I mean, that's a weird thing to ask, I… Sorry." He cringes at himself, embarrassed.

"No, it's okay," Yunho says, surprisingly, and shifts, lying his head on Mingi's lap. The younger man tries his best not to freeze, tries his best to act normal. He doesn't know how successful he is. "You want to know about him, right?" Yunho prompts.

2Yeah," he whispers, dropping a hand to smooth Yunho's hair off his forehead, rubbing his fingers against his scalp. He's being greedy again, biblically so, but now Yunho's letting him, he can't stop touching him. He swallows dryly. "What was he like?"

"He was cool," Yunho's eyes drop shut, and he leans into the sensation of Mingi's hands. "He was a good brother, he looked out for me a lot growing up." Mingi nods, then speaks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, like, he was mad, when my parents chucked me out. He was always cool about it, even though he was raised by, well…" Yunho trails off, and a sting of irritation rolls through Mingi.

"Them," he hears himself say, voice a bit sharp, and he tries to reel it in.

"Yeah, exactly," he pauses, obviously thinking. "I'm glad I had an older brother, even if it wasn't for a long time." He whispers, and he keeps his eyes closed. Mingi's grateful because he doesn't think he can hide the horrible devotion in his eyes, the grief. "I'll always be a younger brother, you know?"

"How did he die?" Mingi asks quietly, not sure if he should be asking, not sure if he should be pushing. But he wants. He wants.

"Cancer," Yunho mumbles, "He was twenty-four."

"Oh," Mingi whispers, and he hates the pain in the room, how heavy the atmosphere feels between them. "I'm so sorry Yu, I shouldn't have…"

"It's okay." Yunho interrupts, "I don't mind telling you." Mingi's heart flutters at that statement. "What about your mum?"

"Oh, she…" Mingi's slightly taken aback that Yunho remembers that he wants to know, and he searches for the words. "We were really close before she died, like, she was my best friend in a lot of ways." He sighs, can't stop the sadness from escaping in his tone. "It was a car accident."

"I'm sorry Min," Yunho mumbles, and he sounds just as sad, as if Mingi's emotions are his. He doesn't want to think about it, not when he's drunk and emotional. Not when Yunho's so close to him. "We don't have to talk about it."

"I don't mind telling you," Mingi mumbles, shrugging. "But yeah, we an talk about something else." He offers.

"Like what?" Yunho asks, and he rolls, noses at Mingi's stomach. The younger man's breath does something strange in his throat, and he stubbornly ignores it.

"I'm an only child," Mingi blurts, abruptly, the first thing that comes to mind spills out of him, uncontrolled. Yunho's eyes snap open, biting his bottom lip, obviously trying not to laugh. It's stupid, but it breaks the horrible tension, the grief.

"That makes a lot of sense," Yunho teases, and Mingi pouts instinctively, slightly offended.

"What does that mean?" and he doesn't think about it as he grabs both of Yunho's cheeks, squishing him. "Are you being mean to me again?"

That's the thing, it's so easy for him to fall into it, barriers already completely disintegrated around his feet.

"N-No!" Yunho gets out from where he's being moves around, giggling. Mingi wants to hear that sound forever, wants to bathe in the warmth of it for the rest of his life. "You just like being pampered, like a princess, you know! Princess Minki!"

"Oh my god," Mingi whines, pushing Yunho's face away from him. "No, that's the worst, you're going in the bin, go on," and he pushes the older man off the sofa, off his lap, rolls him onto the rug. Yunho giggles the entire time, but manages to snag Mingi's arm, pulls him down with him.

Mingi yelps in surprise, colliding with Yunho's body, getting flipped. He blinks up at where Yunho is suddenly straddling him, still laughing.

"You underestimate my strength, Princess," the older man teases, raising his eyebrows. "Something, something, I have the high ground!" Mingi stares at him for a long moment, realising suddenly how drunk they both are. He bursts into slightly hysterical laughter.

"Yunho, what the fuck?" He gets out, still laughing, slightly breathless. "You are so…" He gets stuck, the words don't come, and he can't stop staring at Yunho's face, the way he's smiling at him.

The realisation that he's fallen in love with Yunho side-swipes him like a hydroplaning bus.

"What?" Yunho pouts, obviously expecting Mingi to tease him again. "I'm what?"

"Beautiful," Mingi hears himself whisper, drunk and in love, unable to stop it pouring out of him. "You're beautiful and I want to kiss you." Yunho's eyes widen for a second before he swallows visibly.

"Then kiss me," Yunho says simply, and Mingi surges forward.

It's impossible not to fall into him, get taken by the way the older man touches him. He tries to roll them, but Yunho grabs his arms, pins it above his head. It makes a pang of desire work through him, and he blinks up at Yunho for a second before they both dive back in.

It's a bit messy, clumsy, all saliva and desperation, not enough breathing. There's something pulling between them, some strange tension that Mingi can't ignore, doesn't want to. He bites gently on Yunho's bottom lip, shivering at the tiny whimper that falls out of the older man. He manages to flip them this time, and he lets himself be deluded.

One last time, he tells himself. They can do this one last time, and then they need to talk.

"Shit, you're so pretty," Mingi grits out, rolling his ass against Yunho's obviously hard cock, and he raises an eyebrow, faking confidence. He's good at it, it's what he does. Yunho's breath catches, his hands flexing in the rug above his head. "Pretty puppy."

"M-Min," Yunho's voice is shaky, desperation already obvious in his tone, and Mingi raises his eyebrows higher, half in amusement and half in surprise. "Please," he begs, and the pink-haired man searches his eyes.

"What are you asking for, Yu?" He whispers, leaning closer, and gulps. His eyes dart around Mingi's face, and he still can't decipher the expression in them.

"Do you want to fuck me?" Yunho asks, and Mingi stares at him for a dragging pause.

"Shit, really?" He double-checks, caught off-guard. He searches Yunho's face, but he doesn't seem to be joking. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Yunho whispers, staring up at him. There's no dishonesty in his voice, in his face. Mingi feels the bubble of hope reforming in the cavern of his chest. "Yeah, please fuck me." He confirms, and the words echo around Mingi's head loudly.

"Fuck, shit, okay, yeah," Mingi rushes, entirely too eager, but also too drunk, too besotted to stop himself. "Yeah, fuck, okay, bedroom?"

"Yes, please," Yunho agrees easily, "the floor's kind of hard."

"You know what else is hard?" Mingi blurts, shocked at himself, and they make eye contact for a brief second before they both dissolve into laughter.

"Stupid," Yunho gets out around giggles, jabbing Mingi in the side as he does. "Now get up, come on."

They're still giggling as they stumble onto Mingi's bed, and he lets himself fall into it. He lets himself fall into the delusion, just one more time.

"Y-You don't have to do this with me," Yunho whispers suddenly from under him, caged under his arms. "Like, it's your first time with a guy, right? You can save it for someone special, I won't be like, offended," he mumbles, and his gaze searching Mingi's face.

"But you are someone special?" Mingi murmurs, confused, And he means it. "I want to do it with you, I…" he searches Yunho's face for a long moment. It shocks through him with a sudden pang. Yunho is the most special person in his life, and he doesn't know what to do with that information.

"I trust you, Yunho." He hopes the older man knows what he's saying, what he's admitting. He might not be able to get the words out of his mouth, but he wants to show him, wants to prove himself.

"You're sure?" Yunho checks, one last time, and Mingi nods instantly.

"Are you sure?" Mingi asks back, and Yunho nods, just as fast.

Mingi takes his time fingering Yunho open, savouring it, letting himself indulge in it. That's what it feels like, it feels slightly sinful. It feels like levels of greed he'll never be able to repent for, but he can't stop himself. He letting himself pretend that this is real, that Yunho loves his back.

He falters for a second, eyes glancing up at where Yunho's panting into his arm, nudging his hard cock against the older man's entrance.

Loves him back. It echoes in his brain.

"C-Can I?" Mingi starts, shuffling to press the older man's legs further to his torso, and Yunho nods urgently.

"Yes, please, fuck me," he pleads, and Mingi swallows, suddenly overwhelmed. He loves Yunho. He's in love with Yunho. it hits him all over again, feeling just as new and raw as the first time. "Please, Yunho asks, voice weak.

"Shit," Mingi whispers, and starts pushing in slowly. Yunho groans under his breath, and the younger man focuses hard to stop himself cumming instantly, desperate to be good, for the older man to enjoy it.

"Fuck," Yunho moans quietly, head falling back against the pillow with a thud. "Feels good, shit." His eyelids flutter.

"God, you're so right, Pup," Mingi grits out, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut for a second to centre himself, feeling somewhere between deranged and truly insane. "Take it so well, fuck, made for it," his voice comes out rough, and Yunho's eyes widen as he trembles a little harder.

"B-Big," Yunho chokes out, "God, fuck."

He looks breathtaking, panting softly, pinned under Mingi like this.

"Fuck," Mingi groans, mostly to himself. "You feel insane, God, what the fuck."

"Shit, fuck, move, please," Yunho begs, and Mingi starts moving instantly, eager to please.

The older man whimpers beautifully as the pink-haired man fucks him, eyelids fluttering and lips ajar, little whines falling out of him. Mingi watches him closely, memorising every expression on his face, desperate to remember it all. His eyes roll back as Mingi shifts his angle, shivering under the younger man's hands. The flush travels down his chest, spreading from his cheeks, and Mingi watches it all with almost unblinking devotion.

He wants to see it all, every microsecond of it. Yunho moans his name, quietly, under his breath, and Mingi thinks his ribcage might shatter with how winded it makes him feel.

He's in love with Yunho.

"You're so fucking," Mingi chokes out, breathless and emotional. "You're so fucking pretty, fuck," he speeds up, making Yunho's sob over a moan, trembling like a leaf beneath him.

"Mingi, Mingi, fu-fuck, fuck, Min," Yunho pants out, and Mingi tries to remember the sound of every syllable, doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget it, wouldn't want to.

"Yunho, fuck, Pup," he think his voice may break a little, prays Yunho doesn't notice. "Fuck, baby, you're so good," he can't stop the praise spilling out of him. "You're so good."

He lifts a hand, cradling Yunho's face, leaning closer.

He's in love with Yunho. He's in love and he's drunk and he's so close to cumming it hurts, and he's in love with Yunho. He tries his best not to cry.

"M-Min, fuck, please, please," Yunho begs, voice shaking with the movement of Mingi's thrusts, getting pushed up the bed, staring up at Mingi with wet eyes. The younger man stares right back. "Please, gonna c-cum, please," he moans brokenly, and Mingi just groans, letting his forehead drop onto Yunho's gently, still cradling him.

"You can cum, Pup," he murmurs, "cum for me, baby," he coaxes, and Yunho takes him at his word. His back arches as his nails scrape over Mingi's shoulder blades, trying to find grip.

"M-Min, fuck, fuck," he babbles as he cums over his stomach, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he does, face lax with pleasure. Mingi can't pull his eyes off the other man's face. "Sh-Shit, shit."

"Fuck, Yu," Mingi pants out, and his orgasm takes him by surprise, falling into it without warning. "Fuck, baby," he gasps, everything building and building into it crashes over him, hot pleasure filling every nerve in his body. He fucks his cum back into Yunho mindlessly, struggling to catch his breath. "Fuck."

"Fuck," Yunho repeats, and he slows down, stilling his hips. Yunho lets his head flop back onto the pillow. "Shit," Mingi pulls out gingerly and smooths some hair off of Yunho's forehead.

"Shit," Mingi whispers. He's in love with Yunho. "Yunho…" he tries, and then stops.

He doesn't know what to do. He's drunk, Yunho's drunk, they've just fucked and he's crashing through the painful realisation that he's fallen in love with the other man. "I'll get a towel."

"Right," Yunho agrees, and Mingi stumbles his way out of the room, shutting the bedroom door behind him,

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he starts crying.

Yunho only grows more distant. The morning after was fine, normal, only awkward at once point where the older man paused, blinking up at Mingi like he wanted to say something. Then shook his head. Changed his mind.

By day three of being mostly ignored, it becomes obvious that Yunho wants to be left alone.

It stings.

Mingi stares at himself in the mirror and wonders how he manages to fuck up quite so colossally. He looks tired, physically and mentally, obvious in the deep, black circles under his eyes. He blinks at himself slowly.

He's considering peeling himself off the bathroom floor to smoke when his doorbell rings. He secretly hope it's Yunho but knows better than to get his hopes up. It doesn't stop the way his lungs tighten in anticipation, still so stupidly greedy despite everything.

What he doesn't expect is Arin, pupils diluted and swaying, standing on his threadbare doormat.

"Gi," she cries, "I miss you so much!" Her makeup is smudged, all down her face, and her hair is knotted, and she teeters on her heels.

Mingi goes into auto-pilot, pushes her out into the corridor and shuts the door behind him with a sharp thud. It's instinctive to keep her out of his space, for reasons he can't quite bring himself to unpack right now.

"Arin, what the fuck are you doing here? I told you not to contact me," he sounds as exasperated as he feels, unable to hide his irritation, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "What are you on? Where's Dylan?"

"Oh my god, don't talk about him," she complains obnoxiously, staggering as she reaches for the wall to keep herself upright. Mingi wonders when he started feeling so apathetic.

Her phone rings from her purse, a battered thing she's carried around for years, and Mingi can't feel anything but the want her to be gone.

"God, he's calling me," she sighs, and Mingi takes the opportunity to take the device out of her hand, to answer the call. "Min, what are you doing?" Erin whines, but he ignores her in favour of the guy's voice on the other end when he picks up.

"Arin? Where are you?" He says instantly, and the guy sounds genuinely worried, concerned. Mingi briefly feels a weird tugging something at the bottom of his stomach.

"Hey, dude, it's uh, Mingi, she's turned up at mine," Arin smacks at his arm, tries to grab the phone out of his hand. He turns his back, wincing at the way she smacks there instead. "Do you want me to send you the address to come get her? She's kind of… Ow, Arin, fuck," he turns, trying to push her hands away from where she's thumping his back. "She's on something."

"Fuck," Dylan mutters, and the line crackles as he obviously inhales sharply. "Yeah, I'll come get her, God d-" he cuts off. Mingi turns around, is going to tell her, but Arin takes the opportunity to swing at him again. It's starting to actually hurt, with the force she's putting behind her blows. It catches him off guard, when her ring slices his face. He feels the cut open, the trickle of blood that drools down his cheek. She freezes instantly, seemingly realising what she's done.

"Yeah, just, be quick," Mingi says bluntly into the phone, and then hangs up, unsure what the polite thing to do in this situation even is. He manages to send the address to Dylan's contact, despite the way Arin has now stopped hitting him and is in fact starting to lean on him heavily, head nodding.

Mingi's not sure she's even conscious anymore.

He shifts them, shuffles her into a position where he can sit her down more easily. She squints at him, eyes unfocused, and Mingi realises with a strange, detached, pang that she doesn't seem to recognise him. That he doesn't know if he recognises her either. He's not sure who this is.

"Arin, why did you come here?" He asks, tired in his tone and his expression. She sighs, slumped against the railing.

Mingi sits next to her, despite it all, and she shrugs lopsidedly. She stares at her knees.

"You were the nicest to me," Arin murmurs, head lolling back. "Isn't that crazy you didn't even love me and you were the nicest to me." She picks blindly at a hole in her tights, making the ladder rip further. Mingi frowns.

"I did love you, at one point, I think," he says quietly, and Arin just looks at him, where he's bleeding. "Did you think I didn't?"

"Hmm," she hums, and she shrugs again. "Oh, that's…" Arin blinks at him, and reaches her thumb up to wipe the blood clumsily off his cheek. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Mingi doesn't know what she's referring to anymore, shrugs back, mimicking her movements. She's high enough that her thoughts seem slightly incoherent, and he wonders if she even means anything she's saying.

"It's fine," Mingi mutters, even though it isn't and stares at his hands for a long second. He doesn't want to have this conversation with her. Not now. Probably not ever. "What did you take?"

"Uh," Arin blinks hard, leans her head back, like she's trying to recall. "Someone, this guy, had like, liquid DMT," she murmurs, then nods jerkily. "I can't remember how much he gave me though."

"Arin," Mingi says flatly, rubbing his temple slowly. "Why are you doing this shit?"

"Like I said, you were like, the nicest to me," and she looks up at him, pupils blown out as she stares at him. Mingi's not sure she's even seeing him. "And I lost you."

"Because of me?" Mingi checks, taken aback. He reads her face, unsure if she means it or if this is just a weird guilt trip. It's working, sort of, because a pang of weird guilt flows through him.

"Sort of," she shrugs again, swaying. "But I mean, Dylan says it's cause I grew up in an emotionally unstable household," Arin closes her eyes. Mingi just stares at her.

"Right," Mingi says, turning to stare at his own hands again.

"There's a hundred reasons, and no reason, you know?" She says seriously, almost close to sober, and Mingi isn't sure what to say. He just nods. Hopes Dylan will turn up sooner rather than later.

"Did you ever… With the gay guy?" Arin asks abruptly, and her voice is back to sounding fucked again. His chest squeezes, hard and tight, and it feels like being gored through the heart.

"Ha, uh, s-sort of, it's… Complicated." Mingi mutters, unsure why he's even admitting it to Arin of all people. Her head lolls over to rest on his shoulder, and he can't bring himself to push her off. "I fucked it up a bit."

"Hmmm," she hums for slightly too long, "Yeah, we're good at that."

Mingi doesn't like that he's included in that.

"I-I'm trying not to be, I'm trying to… F-Fuck, I want to be better," he cuts himself off, shaking his head, irritated all over again. "Why am I telling you this?"

"I don't know," Arin says softly, reaching into her battered bag for her chewing gum, adding to the stuff she's already chewing. "We've seen each other at our worst?"

"Arin," Mingi tries, and his voice does something weird. She shakes her head and pushes her shoulder against his gently.

"It's okay," she murmurs, and the smile she has on her face seems content, slightly far away. "You fell in love with someone else?"

She phrases it like a question, but Mingi can see in her eyes that she kind of already knows. He doesn't know how she knows. He barely knows himself.

"Yeah," he finally admits, and she stares at him for a long second. "But yeah, it's complicated."

"It doesn't have to be," Arin says, even though she's high and can barely focus on Mingi's face. He nods, which is about the best he can do in the circumstances. They sit in silence for a long time.

"Thanks for looking after me, Mingi," she says suddenly into the quiet, and she's looking over the railing, to the door. Mingi nods again. "Sorry for everything I put you through," she apologises, and Mingi just walks her to the door. He's got nothing left to say to her.

He doesn't know if she means it, doesn't know if it's just the drugs. He's not even sure he cares anymore.

Dylan comes and gets her from the front door, half carries her to the car. Mingi tries his best not to make eye contact with him, but the man nods at him thankfully anyway as he bundles her into the backseat. Mingi stubs his cigarette out on the floor and goes back inside.

He shoves some clothes into a bag, and unthinkingly goes to Seonghwa's.

Hongjoong answers the door, shirtless and only just awake, rubbing his hair like it isn't already in chaos around his head. Mingi glares at him for a moment before he realises what he's doing and sighs defeatedly, following the shorter man into the apartment.

Seonghwa toddles out as they enter, wearing a shirt that's too big for him and boxers, looking confused. He takes one look at him before he's crossing the room and bundling Mingi into a hug.

He doesn't ask questions, not straight away, just steers him to the spare room, brings him mugs of tea, brings him toast. He sits on the edge of the bed and pets Mingi's back soothingly.

They let him sleep, shooting each other a look as Mingi makes his excuses to be alone, and he rolls over. Wonders why it feels like someone has reached into the cavern of his chest and twisted. His ribs feel tender, cracked and wounded.

The next day he can tell Seonghwa is desperate to ask, can see it on the tip of his tongue, but Mingi just shakes his head. The older man understands, lets him process, talks benignly about a client he's working with. Curtains he's thinking about buying for the bedroom. What he wants to make for dinner. Mingi pays attention with limited success.

It's the second day when he breaks, and he's proud of himself for holding out for as long as he did. He slumps against Seonghwa in the living room, crying before he can even verbalise what he's feeling. The silver-haired man embraces him easily, hugging him tightly.

"What's…?" Hongjoong starts, but Mingi gets the impression that Seonghwa shoots him a look because he falls suddenly silent.

"Do you want to talk about it Mingi?" Seonghwa asks, smoothing his hair as he steps back. Mingi nods awkwardly, averting his eyes, ears burning.

"Don't know where to start," he admits croakily, and the older man nods, sympathy on his face.

"What happened to your face?" Seonghwa asks softly, reaching to twist Mingi's face to the side so he can look at it. "That's a good place to start. Did Yunho hit you?"

"What? No?" Mingi blurts, confused. His brain takes a moment to reboot, and he suddenly realises what the silver-haired man has assumed. "Oh, no, I haven't… I haven't spoken to him."

He doesn't even really want to think about it yet, knows that it's probably already past the point of no return, that they've gone too long in silence and it's sort of his fault.

"What? I thought… But at the bar?" Seonghwa stumbles, but then he shakes his head. "Wait, sit down, 'Joongie, babe, can you make some tea for us?"

"Right, yeah," the shorter man mumbles, wandering into the kitchen. Seonghwa guides Mingi to the sofa.

"What happened?" he asks gently, reaching to wipe the tears that Mingi sort of forgot he was crying.

"I'm in love with Yunho," he says, and his voice is so pathetic as it leaks out of him, wet and small. "And he's ignoring me."

"So, you… Went and saw him?" Seonghwa asks, and Mingi looks up at him, surprised. He sort of forgot that was something he could do. He shakes his head slowly.

"N-No, I… Arin came to my place, she was… So high on something, swung at me while I was trying to get Dylan to come get her," he explains. "It was an accident really, she was too out of it to really know what she was doing."

"Fuck, Min, that's…" there is a sympathy in his older friend's face, and Mingi just shakes his head.

"It just scared me. I said "I fucked it up," and she said, "yeah, we're good at that," and it just made me…" he stares at his own hands. Their trembling.

"You fucked up what, Min?" Seonghwa prompts, forever patient, gentle.

"I fucked Yunho," Mingi blurts out, and he glances up at the silver-haired man. He doesn't want to know what he looks like right now, exhausted, stressed, eyes puffy with crying. Seonghwa stares at him for a long, silent second, processing.

"When? Why? What?" Seonghwa blinks frantically as the questions stutter out of him. "Mingi, what?"

"We were drunk, and he was… He was letting me touch him, leaning closer to me, and I… Fuck," Mingi puts his head in his hands. He feels despair bubbling in him. "He asked me to fuck him. He asked me, I swear, but I just… We got back from the bar and I just-" He can't get the words out, can't speak.

Seonghwa sighs softly, and Hongjoong comes back in, mugs in hand.

"Here," the shorter man says, placing the mug in front of him. "Strawberry aloe," he murmurs, and Mingi feels himself crying before he can stop it. Seonghwa's eyes widen in concern, and Hongjoong looks guilty, blinking rapidly.

"W-We have other flavours!" He blurts, and Mingi shakes his head, wiping his face roughly.

"No, it's not- It's fine," he gets out, sniffling wetly. "I just, miss him. I miss him and he isn't answering any my messages, and he didn't like any of my photos on Instagram, and it's so stupid!"

"Oh, Min," Seonghwa sighs, and he pats his back gently. "You need to just go and speak to him."

"Yeah," Hongjoong agrees, and Mingi scowls despite the fact that he thinks they're probably right. That it might be worth a last attempt, at least try. For Yunho.

"Go see him," Seonghwa tells him, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. "Tell him."

"I can't just, go?" Mingi whispers, before he blinks, realises that he kind of can. "What do I say? Oh hey dude, I think I'm in love with you so sorry for fucking you around for months, I was so confused and you're the only think that makes sense to me and…" he trails off, surprised at himself and what falls out of his mouth. Seonghwa's eyes soften.

"Min, just go."

Mingi isn't sure what he's going to say.

But he knocks on the door anyway. Yunho doesn't answer, so he knocks again. He starts worrying that maybe he actually won't get the chance to even speak in the first place, guesses he'll probably figure out what to say once he gets inside. Ducks to grab the hey out from under the mat, not truly thinking. Mingi needs to speak to Yunho, needs to see him.

The door gets yanked abruptly open, and Mingi jumps, eyes snapping up.

Yunho looks exhausted, sad, and it makes the younger man sting with some horrible grief for a lingering, long, second.

"I was…" Mingi tries, and Yunho just stares at him, looking as overwhelmed as the younger man feels. "I missed you." He takes a shaky step forward, unsure of where they stand. Yunho's eyes flicker over his face, to the cut on his face, to his lips, to his eyes.

"Min…" Yunho whispers, and he sounds so small, so broken. "I'm sorry."

"Pup, it' okay, what's happened?" Mingi asks instantly, stepping forward. Yunho steps back at the same time, letting the younger man in.

He's a bit confused as to why Yunho is apologising, but it makes a small kernel of hope plant in his chest, that maybe, just maybe, they can fix this.

"Can I come in?" He asks, and Yunho nods, leading him to the sofa. Mingi hovers for a brief, awkward moment before he sits carefully next to the older man. He's not sure how to act, not used to the weird, polite distance between them.

"I have something I need… I need to say," Yunho says softly, and Mingi nods, shuffling to look at him properly. He tries to find a hint in the older man's expression but finds nothing.

"Yeah, me too," Mingi admits, and Yunho raises his eyebrows briefly, apparently surprised.

"You first," he says, and shoots Mingi a pleading look. "You go first."

"Arin came to my flat again," Mingi blurts, and then averts his gaze, embarrassed. He hates the way he struggles to vocalise his thoughts and the way the wrong words come out.

"Did you fuck her?" Yunho says flatly, and Mingi can't stop the weird pain that zaps through him, hurt obvious in his eyes as he glances up.

"N-No, Yunho, I… No," he shakes his head, not sure if he's really allowed to be hurt by Yunho's words. "I didn't let her in, but she swung at me, like out in the corridor." He feels a bit embarrassed all over again.

"Oh, right," Yunho whispers, and he sounds a bit shy, too. He tucks himself smaller into the corner of the sofa, shrinking himself. "Sorry, I… Shit, are you okay?"

"No, it's fine, I…" Mingi stares at his own knees for a long second. "It doesn't hurt or anything, I just, it scared me a bit." He doesn't look up to see what Yunho's expression looks like. He doesn't want to explain what about the situation scared him. "I stayed with Seonghwa for a few days."

"You didn't say," Yunho says quietly, and Mingi glances at him, confused at if he was supposed to push harder, how the pages and pages of messages he sent got ignored.

"You seemed like you wanted to be left alone," he admits, and Yunho swallows, shrinks down a little bit more. It makes Mingi's ribs ache all over again, right down to the marrow, and Yunho shrugs stiffly.

"You should have told me anyway, Min," and he sounds a bit sulky, almost childish. Mingi doesn't understand. "You should have stayed with me for a bit." Yunho blinks, shrugs in return, looks at his own knees.

He doesn't know how Yunho can say that after the way he's distanced himself. Unless he isn't aware of how much it hurt the younger man. Unless he isn't aware of how much Yunho means to him.

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?" Yunho asks, and Mingi shakes his head, remembering why he came here.

"No," the younger man says seriously, and he looks back at Yunho, searching. "I wanted to say that I can't keep fucking you around like this." He's hoping Yunho understands, that he doesn't have to speak the words out loud, knows how difficult it is to get the words out.

"Oh," Yunho blurts, and his voice sounds tight and weird. "Right."

"I… Yunho, it's…" Mingi struggles with the syllables, trips over his own tongue. Yunho shakes his head, tries to smile, even though it's obviously fake.

"It's okay, Min, I know," and he reaches to pat Mingi on the arm, "I get it."

"No, you don't!" Mingi blurts, dropping his legs and turning to Yunho properly, can feel the way his eyes are wet again as he blinks up at the older man, probably looking wild as he stares. "You don't get it, you don't."

"I… I'm sorry," Yunho tries, but he sounds confused, upset and overwhelmed. His eyes dart frantically. "I shouldn't have… I shouldn't…"

He can't keep pretending like it doesn't hurt, like he isn't walking around with an open wound in his chest, spraying those around him with his own rotting devotion. He needs to know if the warm little ember that keeps relighting in his chest is worth sheltering. If it's worth hoping.

"Do you regret it?" Mingi asks abruptly. He doesn't have to explain what he means by it.

"No," Yunho whispers, and Mingi's heart picks up its pace for a second. "Do… Do you?" and he looks pained, like he doesn't want to know the answer.

"No," Mingi says immediately, needing Yunho to know. "No, I couldn't, not with you."

Yunho blinks at him blankly. The pink-haired man doesn't quite understand how he doesn't hear the truth in his voice, the sickly devotion, because he still looks confused.

"Right," he says, and Mingi can see front the look in his eyes that he doesn't understand what the younger man is admitting. "That's… Good."

Yunho, fuck," Mingi's so frustrated at himself, the way he can't speak properly, the way his thoughts are tangling around his head. "I… You're it, for me. Don't you… Don't you get it?" he tries, and Yunho stares.

"I don't… I don't understand," he says quietly, eyes darting around Mingi's face desperately. "Mingi, what are you saying?"

"I-I…" Mingi stutters, and he feels horribly on edge, unsure of what words to say. "I don't want to fuck this up, not with you, you're… Yunho." he murmurs, and Yunho's eyes soften slightly. Maybe he's starting to get it.

"Mingi…" Yunho breathes out, and his voice is weak, small.

"I think I'm in love with you," Mingi blurts out, abrupt and sudden. Yunho freezes and places a hand over his own chest. There is a long moment of silence, seconds dragging, and Mingi replays the words over and over in his head. He can feel his pulse in his jaw.

"Me?" Yunho asks, apparently coming back to earth. "Are you… Are you fucking with me?" he looks desperately up at Mingi, like he's hoping for something.

"What?" Mingi eyebrows furrow, confused as to why Yunho would think he could do that to him. "What, no, I'm serious?" Why would I… Why would I fuck with you about this?"

"Sorry, no I don't mean-" Yunho shakes his head, blinking rapidly, and Mingi can almost see the cogs turning in his head. "You love me?"

He looks up, and their eyes meet as he asks. Mingi blinks in surprise. Yunho didn't know. That somehow feels more surprising than the fact that Mingi's fallen in love with him in the first place.

"Yeah, I mean, I think so," Mingi mumbles, suddenly shy again. "I haven't felt like this about anyone else before, I…" he sees the look in Yunho's eyes, decides to jump. "I'm pretty sure though."

Yunho starts crying almost as soon as the words are out of him mouth, and Mingi panics slightly at the expression on his face.

"Pup?"

"I'm in love with you too, Mingi, fuck," he chokes out, rushed and breathless. right as Mingi is wiping the tears from his face.

Now it's the pink-haired man's turn to freeze, something warm and huge settling in his chest, seeping it's way through his entire body. He can't stop the stupid smile that spreads on his face, the way he stares at Yunho.

"You love me?" he asks, and Yunho nods, still crying even as he tries to smile. "Yunho, I love you." He says again, with more confidence.

Yunho giggles, contagious, and Mingi laughs with him.

"I love you so much, fuck, Pup," he gets out, reaching to cradle the brunette's face, wiping his face with his sleeve softly.

"I love you, Princess," Yunho says shakily, still giggling, "Yeah, I love you."

"Fuck, yeah," Mingi mutters to himself, surging forward, pressing a clumsy kiss on Yunho's lips without thinking. He needs to show him, to prove the way he loves Yunho. "I can kiss you now, right, whenever I want?" he checks, eyes darting up, and Yunho grins at him, pressing a kiss on his cheek right back.

"Yeah, whenever you want," he promises, and Mingi can't stop himself, magnetised to the other man. Yunho giggles into his mouth, and the pink-haired man can't control the way his heart pounds in his chest, the way he's grinning into their kiss. Mingi depends it, crawls over Yunho, chest to chest. He kisses him deeper, unable to pull away, addicted.

"I love you," Mingi whispers between kisses, unable to stop now that he's allowed. "I think I've loved you since the first time we kissed," he admits, and Yunho's eyes widen in surprise. Mingi considers for a second. "Maybe even before that."

"Really?" Yunho sounds genuinely shocked, and Mingi's eyebrows raise up his forehead. "I… I had no idea," he admits quietly. Mingi leans down to kiss him again. Yunho didn't know.

"I tried really hard to be normal around you," he says, even though he doesn't think he succeeded much of the time, but Yunho laughs, pulls away.

"I think I've loved you for longer than I realised," Yunho admits quietly, "I think I was fucked from the first day we met."

The information knocks Mingi off-kilter, and he thinks the disbelief shows in his face.

"I had no clue," he whispers, and Yunho doesn't appear to be lying, eyes wide and open. "I just didn't know why I couldn't stop thinking about you," Mingi murmurs, and he blushes hot as he admits it, only realising the truth of that statement in the current moment. "Sorry, it took me so long to figure it out."

Yunho shakes his head and pulls Mingi closer.

"I can feel your heart racing," Yunho whispers suddenly, and Mingi blushes hotter, burning with his shyness.

The brunette reaches for his hand, guiding it to his own chest, pressed between their bodies. Mingi pauses, feeling the way Yunho's heart is pounding just as fast, just as hard. His eyes widen.

"Oh," he lets out, suddenly registering the depth of the situation. Yunho loves him back. "Yunho, I…" he blurts, unable to stop himself. "Be mine, please, I can't- I don't ever want to be without you," he says, and even though it's not poetic, not good, he means it.

Yunho blink sup at him, heart rate increasing in his chest under Mingi's palm. It makes him smile.

"I'm yours, Min, of course I am," Yunho confirms softly, reaching to brush a strand of hair from Mingi's face, behind his ear. He rubs a thumb across the wound on his face gently, and his eyes flicker slightly.

"I want to be yours too," Mingi says seriously, honest, and Yunho chuckles, pressing a kiss on the younger man's lips.

"You're mine," he whispers, and there's a hint of possessiveness in his voice that makes sharp spark of desire sting through his gut. He bites his bottom lip, nodding. "My princess," Yunho adds, teasing, reminding, and Mingi can't maintain eye contact, skin burning with his embarrassment.

"W-Would you…" Mingi is desperate to ask, to show Yunho what this means to him. Words might not be his strong suit, but actions are. "Would you fuck me?" he manages, shifting back so he can kneel between Yunho's long legs, still unable to look at him as the older man sits up.

"Yeah, of course, if you want me to," Yunho assures him instantly, and Mingi finally looks at him. "Did you think I wouldn't want to?"

"I… I mean, like n-no, I just," and he swallows around his dry mouth. "I'm just nervous," he admits shyly, eyes back down to his own lap.

Yunho takes him by surprise, pushing him back and slotting into his lap.

"What are you nervous about?" Yunho asks, fingers drifting to scratch gently at Mingi's scalp, coaxing him to look up, watching his face closely. "I want you to enjoy it, Min, talk to me."

Mingi isn't really sure what he's even afraid of. Something about it feels vulnerable, exposing. He doesn't know how to explain himself.

"You're big," he whispers instead, a half-truth, "and I've only ever… Well, you know what I've had in my ass," he tries for a joke, and Yunho snorts, amused. It calms his nerves.

"I'm flattered," the older man says quietly, and Mingi breaks, giggling. Maybe he doesn't have to ne nervous, with Yunho. "I have smaller stuff we could try first."

"But I want you to fuck me," Mingi pouts, can't stop the whine of his voice. Yunho's eyes widen in amusement, looking please and the pink-haired man squirms a little. "I trust you, I'm just… You'll go slow right?"

Yunho's expression shifts slightly, and Mingi clocks the way he bites the inside of his cheek for a second.

"Shit, Princess, yeah, I'll be gentle," the older man murmurs, and his voice is lower in pitch than it was before. Mingi's surprised at the way Yunho's reacting to him, warming his blood, making it feel itchy in his veins. It's like every time it's confirmed that the older man does like him, loves him, it feels new again. He wonders if he'll get to used to it. He shifts embarrassed at the act he's already sort of hard, and Yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. "Right now?"

"Please, I… I want to be yours," he whispers, hoping Yunho gets it, understands what he's offering.

"Okay," Yunho agrees easily, shifting to pull Mingi up with him as he stands. "Bed though, the sofa is not big enough for two six-foot men to fuck on, Min, come on."

"True," he agrees, even as Yunho pulls him through the room, to his bedroom. "Maybe you should get a bigger sofa," he jokes, and Yunho chuckles, turning to push Mingi onto the bed as he does.

"Or you could just be horny in more convenient locations," the older man suggests, and Mingi giggles, pulling the man into his lap in a rush of courage.

"I can be horny around you all the time now, you're mine, remember," he teases softly, and the brunette rolls his eyes as he leans down to kiss him again.

"Shut up, let me kiss you," he murmurs against Mingi's mouth, and he does as he's told.

It's so achingly good, the way they meet, the way Yunho kisses him. It's so instinctive to lean in, let Yunho roll his hips down, gasping into his mouth. He doesn't mean to get hard quite so fast, but he's rock hard after a few grinds and Yunho groans quietly.

"Fuck, Princess," Yunho groans quietly, and Mingi can't stop the way his hips jerk of their own accord. "You drive me insane."

Mingi whimpers at that, pathetic and turned on, and Yunho takes the opportunity to push Mingi flat onto the bed. He kisses him deeper, cradling his jaw and trailing his hand under Mingi's baggy shirt, scratching his abs lightly. The featherlight touch makes him shiver.

"You're so hot."

"P-Pup," Mingi can barely breathe, so turned on it hurts, and he can hardly speak between kisses. "I'm so hard, please."

He can hear the desperation in his own voice, but Yunho's eyes change a little, pushing Mingi's shirt out of the way impatiently, rubbing his hands over Mingi's torso.

"You want me to fuck you that bad, baby?" he teases, but Mingi's mostly distracted by the way the older man brushes past his nipples, shocks of desire pooling in the pit of his stomach. Yunho raises a cocky eyebrow at him.

"I-I've been thinking about it," Mingi gets the courage to admit, and Yunho brushes a thumb gently across his hardened nipple, teasingly. Mingi can't stop the way his breath catches, the way his hips twitch up, seeking friction.

"Mmm," Yunho hums, bringing up his other hand to tease him more, taking the bud in his fingers and pinching lightly. Mingi's breath catches loudly in his throat. He feels the way he starts dripping precum, probably already leaking into his shorts. He can't bring himself to feel embarrassed by it, not when Yunho's looking down at him like that. "Did you touch yourself, thinking about it?"

"Y-Yeah," he admits, the words scorching through him, making his cock throb. "I liked you fingering me a lot, so I just… Thought I'd probably like it a lot," he feels the need to explain himself, and Yunho smirks at him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Lucky for you, I'm going to finger you first," Yunho tells him, still so close to Mingi, and his brain logs off for a long second. He nods jerkily, aware of how hot the room feels, the way his veins are thrumming with it.

"Y-Yeah, please," he murmurs, and Yunho laughs gently, leaning back. "Where are you going?"

"I need to get lube and stuff, Princess," the older man explains, and Mingi lets him go reluctantly.

It's only about fifteen minutes later when Yunho is three fingers in, and Mingi feels like he's about to squirm out of his skin, that the older man seems to consider him close to ready. He's hard as rock, drooling precum all over his own stomach, and Yunho is watching him with something in his expression that only makes the heat licking up Mingi's spine thicker and more urgent. He isn't sure he's going to survive it.

"You've been so patient, you're so good," Yunho praises, and Mingi has to bite his lip to stop himself making any embarrassing noises. "Fuck, baby, you're leaking so much."

It makes him whimper, pitiful and wet, squeezing his eyes shut to ground himself before he blinks up at Yunho, begging.

"Please, fuck, please," he hears himself whine, so hot and overwhelmed that he doesn't manage to stop the desperation in his voice. "I've been good, please Yu."

The older man surges forward to reunite their lips, kissing him deeply.

"One more Princess, be good for me, just a little more, okay?" Yunho says softly, voice thick with affection, and Mingi nods. He wants to be good for Yunho, more than anything else.

The older man nudges another finger in, eyes dropping to stare at the way he's stretching Mingi out.

"Don't s-stare," Mingi stutters, embarrassed and scorching at the feeling of being so exposed. Yunho just chuckles gently, leaning closer.

"Mmm, I think I'm allowed, considering you're mind," Yunho teases, pressing a kiss right over his pounding heart. "I like looking at you," he admits, mouthing over the pink-haired man's chest, his nipples. It only serves to make Mingi hornier, more desperate, so warm it feels burning. He has a feeling Yunho probably knows that."

"Yunho, please, I-I'm so hard, please," and his hips jerk up again, seeking any form of touch, anything to stop the ache. Yunho spreads his fingers a bit more, seemingly checking. "Please, please."

"Okay, baby," Yunho nods, removing his fingers, slicking himself up with lube. Mingi squirms with the anticipation of it all, struggling to catch his breath. "You want it?" he asks, and he's pressing the tip of his thick cock against Mingi's entrance.

"Please," he begs instantly, shameless, "Yunho, please fuck me, please."

If he sounded desperate before, that's nothing compared to the need that's dripping in his voice. He wraps his legs around Yunho's waist, tries to pull him closer.

"I want to be yours, please," he gets out in a whisper, and Yunho's eyes soften.

He presses in slowly, eyes on Mingi's face the whole time, holding him steady as he eases in. It's initially a bit uncomfortable, a bit weird, but then the sensation changes and a soft gasp falls out of him.

"Okay?" Yunho checks, pausing, and Mingi nods mindlessly, impatiently.

"Yes, please, stop teasing me," he pouts, eyes watery from his own want, and Yunho groans, grip tightening.

"Don't look at me like that," Yunho murmurs, slowly starting to move. "I don't want to hurt you."

It's sweet, but as Yunho fully sinks in, the thought of even responding leaves his brain. He trembles with the feeling, sure he could cum just like this if the older man touched his dick with a single finger, right now.

"S-Shit," he pants out, unable to form more elegant sentences. "Fuck." Yunho cradles his face, looking around his expression closely.

"Fuck good, or fuck bad?" Yunho asks, and Mingi can't stop the delirious laugh that leaks out, head falling back on the pillow.

"Fuck good, fuck really good," Mingi gasps out, as Yunho tentatively moves his hips. "Oh fuck, good, o-oh," Mingi chokes over the word, and the brunette takes that as consent to keep going, pushes back with more power. "Please, keep going, shit, please."

"Fuck, Min," Yunho says quietly, sounding slightly awed, and he starts up a regular rhythm, starts fucking into him properly. He tries to get a grip on the older man's back as the pleasure start mounting, but his nails scratch uselessly. He can't keep himself quiet.

Yunho is good st fucking him, like he is at most think, and Mingi's pretty sure his brain is about to leak out of his ears. The older man seems to hit his prostate with maddening accuracy, and his dick drools uselessly as he whines. He doesn't even register how loud he's being.

"Shit, baby, look at you," Yunho grits out after a few minutes, resting his forehead against Mingi's carefully. "Fuck, you were made for it, made for my cock, fuck," he murmurs, and Mingi moans, load and wet, sobbing over it. His nails dig in hard, but Yunho doesn't stop, keeps pounding into him.

"For you, for you, I'm yours," Mingi chants, peeling open his eyes to look up at the older man, despite how close together they are. Breathing the air out of each other's mouths. "I'm yours."

"Yeah, you're mine, Mingi," he groans lowly, possessive. "You're mine."

The words shoot straight through him, making his muscles spasm almost instantly, crashing through his orgasm before he can even get a warning out. He squeezes his eyes shut, whimpers through it, only elongated by the way he's clenching up around Yunho's thick cock. The pleasure knocks the air out of his lungs.

The older man slows down his rhythm, stroking Mingi's hip gently as he shivers through the aftershocks.

"Y-Yu, Yu, fuck," Mingi sounds a bit strangled as he trembles over the waves of it, jerking sporadically. "Keep going," he pleads, "Please."

"Fuck," Yunho's voice is rough and low, eyebrows furrowing as he starts fucking back into Mingi hard and fast. "Shit, fuck, Min."

He can tell that Yunho's getting close because his hands tighten on his waist, panting hard as he stutterfucks into the younger man's fluttering hole. Mingi's still trembling, can't control his body, still experiencing the residual pleasure of his orgasm. He mindlessly clenches up around Yunho's stiff cock as he rides it out.

"Fuck, inside, please," Mingi begs, reaching up to grasp the brunette's jaw, faces still pressed together. "Show me who I belong to Pup."

Yunho cums, hard.

"Fuck, fuck, baby," he chants, panting as he paints Mingi's inside with his release, fucking it back into him messily. "Mine, mine," he moans out, and the younger man's dick twitches headily despite how hard he just orgasmed, and a whine leaks out of him. "Shit fuck," Yunho slows his movements, trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah, fuck," Mingi agrees, chest still heaving, and Yunho's smiling as he pulls out carefully. "God, what the fuck."

"Jesus Christ," Yunho mutters, and he drops onto Mingi, shoving his face into the crook of the younger man's neck. He presses a soft kiss there, nuzzling closer. It makes Mingi grin, even though Yunho can't see him, and he turns to press a kiss on his forehead. "Was it okay?"

Mingi wants to tell him how stupid a question that is, but instead, he just kisses his forehead again.

"It was really fuck good, Pup, are you serious?" Yunho chuckles quietly at his words, squeezing him tighter. "The, uh, semen dripping out my ass is not the most good, though, so… Can we shower?" Mingi asks, and the older man laughs, pressing a kiss on Mingi's lips before he sits up.

"Of course," he confirms, smiling, so soft and so warm. Mingi can't help but bask in it; now he's allowed to. "I assume you saying 'we' means I'm invited, right?"

"Obviously," Mingi grins, letting the devotion in his chest bloom, letting himself have this. "You're going to get sick of how much I want to be around you," he jokes, and Yunho shakes his head.

"Not possible," he protests instantly, "I could spend every day with you for the rest of my life, and it wouldn't be enough."

The words make Mingi's heart stumble over itself, pulse thrumming through his veins. His ears go red.

"Cheesy," he mumbles, shy, "I love you," Mingi adds, unable to make eye contact, and Yunho grins at him.

"I love you too, Princess."

It's a few hours later when Yunho is curled up on his lap, arms around his waist, refusing to move, that he decides to ask.

"S-So, I don't know if this is… The right time, but… What were you going to tell me?" Mingi gets the courage to say, and the older man pulls back to look at him with a little smile.

"Oh, I was going to tell you I couldn't keep experimenting with you," Yunho admits, unbothered, and the pink-haired man blinks at him. Yunho glances at his expression, bites his bottom lip to stop himself giggling. "Because I was pretty sure I was in love with you, and that."

It feels shocking, even now, to hear it out loud.

"Oh," he says stupidly, "W-When you said… Since the first day?"

"Yeah, from the moment you walked into that gross bar, I just… Couldn't stop looking at you." Yunho says quietly, and his ears are red as he looks away. He hides his face in the crook of Mingi's neck, obviously a little embarrassed. It means Mingi can grin goofily without having to worry about how stupid he looks.

"You know, I didn't notice you at first," Mingi murmurs, and the brunette shifts, seemingly interested. He lifts a hand to scratch at the hair at the nape of Yunho's neck."Then San moved, and I was so confused because the prettiest guy I'd ever seen in my life was just there, in this sticky, gross bar, and I…" he pauses, throat dry with his emotions. "I don't think I've stopped thinking about you since."

"Really?" Yunho whispers, and he sits up, getting Mingi to look at him. The younger man nods.

"I didn't know what it meant, I hadn't… I hadn't really ever wanted to date a guy before, I just, like in passing thought they were hot but…" he tilts his head, glancing over the curious expression on Yunho's face. "You appeared."

"Did I cause your sexuality crisis?" Yunho teases, but he can see the plain fondness in his eyes, the joy there. He wants to see Yunho smile for the rest of his life, wants to be the reason for it. He shrugs.

"In a way, yeah, had a bit of a panic when I realised I wanted you to fuck me, if I'm honest," Mingi admits, smiling despite his red ears. The older man bites down on his bottom lip to stop himself laughing. "Glad I realised it thought, considering you just fucked my brains out."

"S-Shut up," Yunho stutters, flushing hot as he giggles, somewhere between amused and flustered. Mingi can't stop the way he bridges the gap between them, presses a hard kiss on the other man's mouth. It obviously takes Yunho by surprise, because he responds a second late, grinning against Mingi's lips.

"Be my boyfriend," Mingi blurts, sudden and slightly rushed, and Yunho's eyes widen in surprise. "Like properly, be mine, I want to take you places and do things with you and be together, please."

He laments his inability to speak all over again, but the brunette appears not to mind, eyes softening as he reaches to stroke Mingi's cheek.

It feels a bit like his ribcage being pried apart, like Yunho could look straight through the vastness of his chest and see his horrible, all encompassing devotion. See where he's already let himself in. Where he's already made a home.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Yunho whispers, and he butts his nose against Mingi's affectionately. "I'd like to do everything with you, if that's okay?" he asks quietly, and Mingi nods instantly, rubbing their noses together.

Yunho sees the obvious gaping wound of his love and kisses it softly, helping to fill it with his adoration. He patches it up with gentle hands, handles Mingi with care, even in his big clumsy body and guarded exterior. Yunho brushes his thumb over the cut on the younger man's face, scabbing over, half-healed.

"Yeah," Mingi whispers, "more than okay, Pup."