Wonwoo became a trainee at the same time as Mingyu. It was easy to strike up a friendship with him. After all, they lived together, trained together, felt that same kind of hesitation at being the new kids around people like Seungcheol, who was all but guaranteed a spot in the next boy group.
Wonwoo knew everything there was to know about Kim Mingyu. It wasn’t just that they spent so much time together. Mingyu was easy to read. Every emotion was plain on his face, and even after years of practice he couldn’t always hide it from the cameras.
He could tell Mingyu’s feelings with his eyes closed, could tell by the way his feet touched the floor that he was planning something. Wonwoo let himself lounge on Seungcheol’s bed a little longer, even though he knew Mingyu knew he was already awake.
They knew everything about each other, and that was kind of the problem.
See, it all started right before they filmed Seventeen Project. They’d all sat down in a big circle on the practice room floor and had a group meeting. Things had already been happening, and Seungcheol said they needed rules.
‘We can’t play favorites. That’s how someone finds out. It’s either no strings attached or no participation. Is that clear?’
Everyone agreed. It was simple enough in Wonwoo’s opinion. They didn’t have time for real relationships, but they always had time for each other.
He felt the air around Mingyu change, felt how Mingyu wanted to say something, and it made a weird feeling settle in Wonwoo’s chest.
It was a few months later, when Seungcheol snuck bottles of soju into the dorm to celebrate their debut week that Wonwoo understood what the problem was.
He was in Jun’s lap, kissing him in a lazy, buzzed way. Minghao was pressed against his back and every time his hands slid against Wonwoo’s skin it made him shiver. It was a lot, they were a lot, but he’d wanted to get between them for a long time.
He turned enough so that he could kiss Minghao and Jun’s hands slid over the tops of his thighs. It was when they broke apart that he saw Mingyu out of the corner of his eye.
The buzz from the alcohol and the adrenaline from being between two hot guys did wonders to make him forget the look on Mingyu’s face.
Wonwoo made room for Mingyu without being asked, put his back to the wall so Mingyu could slide right into his arms.
“Please,” Mingyu said in a whisper so soft that Wonwoo almost didn’t hear it. He didn’t need to. He knew what Mingyu was here for.
He slid his hand against Mingyu’s cheek and slotted their lips together. Mingyu sighed into it and moved their bodies closer together.
Wonwoo could feel Mingyu’s heart hammering against his chest.
His hands ended up under Mingyu’s shirt, tracing each dip and freckle and scar on his warm skin. He knew every single one, even without looking. Mingyu’s hands joined his and helped him pull the shirt over his head, and when his chest was bare Wonwoo nipped at his collarbone. Mingyu’s eyes fluttered closed and he went boneless against the mattress.
Wonwoo moved on top of him, wasted no time pulling his own shirt off and tossing it away. Mingyu’s hands flew to his waist. Mingyu had this ability to make Wonwoo feel open and raw, like he reached his hand straight into Wonwoo’s chest and dug fingers into his beating heart, squeezing and squeezing until blood dripped thick and hot between his fingers. Wonwoo raked his nails down Mingyu’s chest and Mingyu hissed and gripped his hips hard enough that he knew he’d have little purple bruises in the shape of his fingertips.
See, the thing about it was this. Mingyu was easy to like. His laugh was infectious. He was sweet to a fault. He was clumsy and hardworking and kind and there was a time when they were trainees that Wonwoo might have been in love with him.
It was easy for Wonwoo to get over that kind of love. He knew pretty quickly that being with one person for the rest of his life wasn’t for him, and that even if it was, he’d have to wait until his idol career was over to even start looking for the one.
The first person he told was Seungcheol, who’d rubbed his back gently and told him ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’
The second person he told was Mingyu, who’d tried so so hard to hide the hurt but Wonwoo knew everything there was to know about Kim Mingyu. He couldn’t hide anything, not even his own heart.
No strings attached or no participation.
The members weren’t supposed to be jealous but sometimes it happened. They either ignored it or talked it out in hushed whispers and everything worked, at least for the most part.
Sometimes, Wonwoo would catch Mingyu staring at him like he was the only person alive, like his very existence was the only thing that mattered. It made his heart stutter but it also made him scared.
There weren’t supposed to be feelings, especially not the ones Mingyu tried to hide.
Wonwoo settled between Mingyu’s legs and worked his pants off, tossing them to the floor in a rush. He reached under the bed and pulled out lube and a condom. Mingyu’s legs parted easily, his hand pulling Wonwoo closer. The movement made his fingers fumble with the cap.
“I know, I know,” he murmured as he stroked a hand against Mingyu’s thigh before moving it to his half hard cock.
He touched Mingyu until he was fucking into his hand, fingers twisted in the sheets as he panted out low moans.
When his finger slid inside, Mingyu’s eyes fell closed in a blissed out kind of way that made Wonwoo shiver and his erection strain against his pants.
See, the thing about it was that fans weren’t stupid. Wonwoo had known that since their debut stage, since the first article with his name in the title circled naver. It was why they had rules.
Fan service couldn’t cross the line (though whose line was never really explained, so there had been some questionable moments in Wonwoo’s opinion).
No strings attached or no participation.
Wonwoo stopped standing near Mingyu if he could help it. Of course, fans picked up on it right away. He knew it couldn’t be all the time, but it was too easy for him to lose himself in everything that was Kim Mingyu.
See, the truth was right there, even as Wonwoo fought against it over and over and over again.
Wonwoo could do casual. He did it all the time. He knew what Jun looked like on his knees, how Seungcheol liked to pin him to the practice room mirror and make him watch as he came undone, how Jeonghan hated when his hair was pulled, especially when it was long.
Wonwoo could do casual, but he wasn’t sure if things had ever been casual with Kim Mingyu.
Mingyu canted his hips, tried to get Wonwoo deeper, and Wonwoo bit his lip so hard he was sure he’d taste blood. Mingyu was greedy when it came to him, but he wouldn’t give in, not completely. He waited until he was fully inside before smoothing his hands along Mingyu’s waist.
Wonwoo stared down at Mingyu’s body, already shiny with sweat, a soft rosy undertone to his skin as he panted out each breath.
It was funny really, how often they’d done this and yet every single time was like the first time.
Mingyu’s personality didn’t change much in and out of the bedroom. He was always eager, enthusiastic, maybe a little selfish and impatient, but Wonwoo understood the way they just craved each other sometimes.
Mingyu’s hand found Wonwoo’s and squeezed.
Wonwoo brought Mingyu’s hand to his mouth and planted a soft, too tender kiss to his palm as he began to move.
He kept the pace slow, way too slow for either of them but god being inside Mingyu was always too much, even after all this time.
Mingyu wrapped his legs around Wonwoo’s hips, urging him on with a choked noise in the back of his throat.
Mingyu always wanted just a little more than Wonwoo could give him.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t try, every single time, for it to be enough.
Did Wonwoo love Mingyu?
Wasn’t it obvious?
He loved Mingyu in the way he loved all of the members: fiercely, quietly, with actions rather than words. He loved Mingyu enough to give him what he wanted even though it probably hurt more in the end.
They’d talked about it once, after Wonwoo recovered from his illness. They laid side by side on the heated floor in the living room and Wonwoo had asked ‘Doesn’t it hurt more this way? Wouldn’t it be better to just forget about it?’
Mingyu had grabbed his hand, traced his fingers like he was committing every inch of his skin to memory, and replied ‘I want anything you’ll give me.’
Wonwoo squeezed Mingyu’s hand but said nothing. He never had the heart to say no to Mingyu, especially not when he wanted something that was so easy to give him.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Mingyu moaned out in time with Wonwoo’s thrusts, and Wonwoo leaned down to capture his lips, sealing away the words before they could mean something.
He always fucked Mingyu like it was the first and last time. It was urgent, frantic because sometimes all he could think about was the way Mingyu shuddered under his hands.
It was gentle too, because sometimes Wonwoo wanted to pretend he could give Mingyu that last piece of himself Mingyu so desperately wanted.
He broke the kiss and adjusted the angle of his thrusts, rubbing against Mingyu’s prostate each time until Mingyu’s thighs squeezed hard against his hips.
He breathed out close, close between their mouths and Wonwoo ran his hand through Mingyu’s sweat damp hair. He moved back, held Mingyu’s hips tight between his hands and thrust so hard he swore he saw stars.
It was like they were magnets, and no matter how hard Wonwoo tried to stay away, to pull back, they kept crashing together.
It wasn’t a crash, really. More like a collision. Sometimes minor, sometimes with so much wreckage and destruction Wonwoo wasn’t sure how they lived through it.
They stopped speaking once. It was so bad that after two weeks Seungcheol cornered Wonwoo in their kitchen, pressed his back hard against the counter, eyes burning with barely contained anger.
‘Get your shit together and fix this.’
He’d leaned closer to whisper in Wonwoo’s ear.
‘I won’t let you two ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for. Don’t make me fix it for you.’
No strings or no participation.
It echoed in Wonwoo’s head like a siren, and he’d nodded and stared at the floor as Seungcheol walked away.
The problem was that Wonwoo fought hard against the pull he felt toward Kim Mingyu, but sometimes he didn’t feel like fighting, and when he didn’t fight, he got scared.
The problem was that Wonwoo knew Mingyu wasn’t the one, but he could be someone. If Wonwoo let him.
It was a cycle, and Wonwoo knew it wasn’t fair.
But he also knew that Mingyu already knew all that, and he kept coming back anyway.
Wonwoo never let himself come before Mingyu unless Mingyu was the one inside of him.
But god was it hard. Mingyu could light up every nerve in his body without even trying, and it was worse when he was trying.
Mingyu was so close he was shaking with it, his eyes squeezed shut and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He slid his hand around Mingyu’s pulsing cock, ran his thumb along the ridge before sliding down slow but tight.
Mingyu’s head slammed against the pillow and each breath came out in a whine.
Wonwoo felt a line of sweat drip down the back of his neck, but he fucked into Mingyu harder until he came all over his stomach with a broken shout, scrambling to hold tight to the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock.
It was the way his thumb stroked the skin of Wonwoo’s inner wrist, the way his eyes warmed up when he opened them, the way he sighed and rolled his hips to match Wonwoo’s pace that sent him over the edge.
When Wonwoo came he bit his lip to keep from screaming, squeezing Mingyu’s hand tight as the pleasure washed over him.
‘It’s my fault,’ Mingyu had said later, when they were back on speaking terms, ‘I always push you too far. I don’t mean to. I just —’
Wonwoo held a finger to his lips.
‘I know. You don’t have to say it.’
Mingyu nodded and Wonwoo pulled back just enough that they didn’t have to breathe each other’s air.
They were under the covers in Mingyu’s bed, heads buried under the blankets like they could hide if they tried, like they could really be the only two people in the dorm if they wished hard enough.
‘I’m sorry,’ Wonwoo had said, and when he blinked a tear slide down his face. Mingyu looked at him in shock and wiped it away, hand cradling his cheek in the process.
See, the thing about it was that Wonwoo was sorry. He was sorry for the fights.
For the way he pushed Mingyu away before pulling him closer.
For the way that Kim Mingyu had always known his heart, had seen all the things Wonwoo tried to hide from him, and still loved him anyway.
Mingyu sighed and rubbed his thumb across Wonwoo’s cheekbone.
Wonwoo tossed a towel on Mingyu’s chest and flopped back onto the bed, his breath whooshing out as he hit the mattress. Mingyu wiped hopelessly at the drying come on his chest and turned to Wonwoo with a blissed out grin.
“Hyung is going to be pissed that we fucked on his bed.”
Wonwoo shoved Mingyu’s shoulder and rolled his eyes.
“Hyung knew this would happen when we agreed to move my bed out of the room. I’ll change the sheets later.”
Mingyu tossed the towel away when he was clean enough and pulled Wonwoo against his side.
Wonwoo shivered. Mingyu was always so hot after sex. It was a stark contrast to how cold he got after he came.
They lay there for a long time. Wonwoo traced his finger across each one of Mingyu’s ribs and Mingyu’s hand rubbed across the already visible bruises on his hip. Mingyu sighed and slid his hand across Wonwoo’s back, tracing across his shoulder blade.
“Thank you,” Mingyu breathed out, like he didn’t really want Wonwoo to hear it but needed to say it anyway.
Wonwoo sighed and leaned forward to kiss him. Every time he kissed Mingyu he did his best to pour all those unspoken things into it. He ran his hand through the hair at the back of Mingyu’s neck and pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.
“Don’t thank me for this. You know I’m here because I want to be, right?”
Mingyu kissed the corner of his mouth.