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Mingi wakes up on his twenty-fifth birthday feeling exactly the same.
His friends had told him it goes downhill from this age onwards, that the back pain and tiredness will get worse, that the full development of his frontal lobe will make him fearful of new things. As if he isn't already crippled with back issues and anxiety.
He doesn't feel much as he wakes up, however, just a dull irritation at the sound of his alarm and the fact that, despite everything, he still has to work on his birthday.
He's still brushing his teeth when Yunho calls, asking to be buzzed in, the flat buttons at the front entrance broken for longer than Mingi has lived here. He doesn't even answer before hanging up, simply moving to press the button and listening for the familiar clunk that signals Yunho's entry.
It's practised, familiar, so regular that it doesn't cross his mind as he recognises the thump, thump, thump of Yunho jogging up the steps to his apartment.
He's got a mouthful of minty foam when Yunho opens the door, and he waves as he moves back to spit it out, gesturing silently with his toothbrush. Yunho nods.
He's so cute.
"Mmm?" Mingi asks around the mouthful, tilting his head in confusion. He didn't quite catch what Yunho said, hovering halfway to the bathroom, and the brunette frowns, seemingly as confused as him.
"I didn't say anything," he says honestly, mimicking the tilt of Mingi's head. "Hurry up, I want to get you coffee before your shift, at least."
Mingi grins at that, moving with more motivation towards the sink, the incident forgotten in exchange for rushing through his morning routine to spend more time with Yunho.
It's difficult, sometimes, to steal the little snippets of time they manage to, both working and trying to survive. Sometimes he wonders if that's part of the reason they've never spoken about it, why the thing that lingers between them remains as something unspoken, no matter how all-encompassing it sometimes feels. Maybe, if they had more time, if they had more hours in the day, they could sit and talk about it. Or maybe he's delusional, seeing things that aren't there, reading into words that mean nothing except to him.
But for now, Mingi tries to tame his bleach fried hair into something more presentable and ignores the flutter of his heart at the prospect of spending his morning with Yunho.
It's only when they're halfway down the road and Mingi's lighting up a cigarette that he hears it again.
His lips…
"Who?" Mingi mutters, sucking in a lungful of nicotine, relaxing into the sting of it.
"What?" Yunho says, complete bafflement on his face as he scans Mingi's expression, slight concern colouring his eyes. "Who, what? I didn't… Say anything?"
"I thought you said…" Mingi whispers, and he squints, watching as Yunho raises an eyebrow. "Sorry, I think I'm still half-asleep."
He's not half-asleep at all; in fact, he's starting to panic slightly, confused at the voices he's apparently started to hear. Is this some kind of symptom, a strange mental break that he's not recognising for what it is?
He probably stayed up late again, huh, the familiar voice drifts to him, and Mingi stares as Yunho's mouth doesn't move. I hope his insomnia isn't back.
"Did you not sleep well?" Yunho asks suddenly, and Mingi catches the subtle difference in it, the way it travels to him sounding more solid when it's coming from the older man's mouth. That doesn't particularly tell him where the other voice is coming from, and he struggles to answer normally as his brain spins in place, like wheels stuck in thick mud.
"Not really, I… Thought I'd feel different when I woke up this morning," Mingi says, and he doesn't know if that even makes much sense, but he focuses his energy on taking an inhale of his cigarette and not having a heart attack.
"Different how?" Yunho prompts, curious, and Mingi laughs softly, shrugging.
"Wiser or something, more… Brave? Older? I don't know."
They reach the door of the coffee shop, and Yunho smiles at him, hovering for a beat.
I wish I was braver too.
"Yeah," Mingi answers accidentally, and Yunho just opens the door for him, seemingly not aware of the minor crisis the younger man is experiencing a step or two to his left. He stamps out his cigarette and goes inside.
"After you, Princess," he murmurs softly, and it's at that moment that Mingi first truly considers the option that he's hearing Yunho's thoughts.
He dismisses the idea almost as quickly as it pops up, easily distracted by Yunho's chatter, by the hot coffee that gets pressed into his hand, the pastry that tastes like sweet vanilla and familiarity. The brunette laughs as he talks, leaning against Mingi's shoulder as he gestures, talking so quickly that the younger man can only watch, caught up in the hurricane that is Yunho.
The time passes too fast, slipping through Mingi's fingers as he tries to hold on to it, to savour every second. Yunho leans away as he keeps speaking, as the subject of conversation changes, and he mourns the loss.
"But whatever, it's not like it matters," Yunho finishes, waving a hand dismissively, but there's a tension to his jaw that makes Mingi think that maybe it means more to him than he's letting on.
It's stupid to hold on to it. You're twenty-five now, Yunho. Let it go.
Mingi tries not to let the sheer panic show on his face as the words reach him over the ambient noise of the coffee shop, confirming his — what he thought were — seemingly impossible fears. Yunho gives him a strange look, blinking as he leans closer, tucking some of his blonde hair behind his ear.
"You okay?"
"Mmm," Mingi says, too fast, the room suddenly too full, too small. "Can we go now? I… Can you walk me to work?"
"Yeah," Yunho agrees instantly, already reaching for his bag, swallowing the remnants of his drink. "Yeah, of course."
Yunho hugs him goodbye, and Mingi tries his absolute hardest not to freak out at the slow but terrifying realisation that he can apparently read minds.
I hope he likes the gift I got him, Yunho thinks as he pulls away, reaching to pick a strand of hair off the rim of Mingi's glasses. Maybe it's too much…
"Happy birthday, Princess," Yunho says, and now that Mingi can hear the insecurity in his thoughts, it's more detectable in his voice, the vague tension that clips the vowels. Maybe apprehension. "I'll see you at dinner with everyone, yeah?"
"Mmmhmm," Mingi agrees, and he turns to leave. "See you later, Yuyu."
He's so beautiful.
Mingi doesn't turn around to see who Yunho's seen, to see whatever beautiful model has walked past. He doesn't think about the weird lurch his stomach does as the thought reaches him. And, later, when he's eating at his desk in silence, he doesn't think about the fact that the only person's thoughts he can hear are Yunho's.
Dinner is chaos in the way Mingi has grown to expect. Yunho steals the seat next to him before anyone even tries, and Wooyoung gives him a knowing little look as he sits in the seat opposite. Jongho and Yeosang bicker quietly, giggling as the older man widens his eyes and shakes his head, obviously playing dumb. Mingi bites his lip, stopping the goofy grin that wants to spread on his face, surrounded by his friends like this.
"Here," San calls, handing the menus out around the group before he sits down to Wooyoung's left. "They've got two for one on cocktails until 7."
"Awh, hell yeah," Seonghwa grins as he grabs the paper menu, pointing. "Joongie, do you wanna share?"
"Mmhmm," Hongjoong nods, taking in what the older man is gesturing at. "Should I get one of those raspberry ones, too? You liked that raspberry drink from the bar the other week?"
I wonder if Seonghwa knows that Hongjoong loves him, Yunho thinks, chin propped up on his hand as he watches. Is it as obvious to everyone else as it is to me?
Mingi doesn't answer, despite how much he wants to, how much he wants to laugh and agree. Because it is obvious, in the way he's obvious about Yunho, in the way that those in it are blind to it. He watches as Seonghwa's eyes light up, and he nods enthusiastically. Yunho sighs softly, almost inaudible over the ambient chatter of the restaurant.
"Pornstar Martini?" He asks, leaning closer as he speaks, and Mingi tilts his head, blinking. "I'll get something good too, so you can try a new one," Yunho promises, and he just nods, eyes sliding back to where Hongjoong is laughing, hand on Seonghwa's upper arm.
"Sure," Mingi whispers, and then clears his throat, unsure why he's whispering, "yeah."
Yunho smiles at his stronger confirmation, and the eye contact feels too much, too vulnerable when Mingi can look into his eyes and hear what he's thinking. Not that the lack of eye contact helps, because even over the din of the customers and his friends, he hears Yunho's thoughts clearly.
Does he know?
Mingi focuses on turning to Jongho, peering at the way he's typing aggressively on his phone. He tries not to pick apart what Yunho could possibly mean by that, grateful when he feels the older man move away, to the bar.
"Who's pissed you off?" Mingi murmurs, and Jongho rolls his eyes, placing his phone down flat on the table in irritation.
"I told my boss I wasn't available this evening because it's my brother's birthday," he sends Mingi a cheeky wink, grinning, "and he's still messaging me anyway. Told him family come first."
"I'm your brother?" Mingi says happily, the subtle discomfort of the day, of the situation, drifting as Jongho says exactly the right things to make him smile.
"Mmm, my best hyung," he promises, and Yeosang rolls his eyes as he leans over to grab a napkin. "And you too, hyung," he adds quickly, which makes both Yeosang and Mingi laugh.
… how would I even say it? You make my day better every time I see you, I want to kiss you, make you smile forever? Lame. Stupid. Hi, would you want to try dating me? No, bad, bad. Let's ruin our friendship because I can't stop thinking about you? Awful, gross, stop it!
Mingi hates that he hears it, hates that as Yunho comes back into range, he can hear his thoughts just as clearly as he could before. Every time Yunho goes, he hopes that when he comes back, it will be different.
He wonders who Yunho could be thinking about so much, scans the table and wonders which person at this table has Yunho's thoughts constantly on them. It's a weird sensation, an alien jealousy for someone he can't place, irritated for reasons he can't let himself show, not now, not here.
"Here," Yunho mumbles, placing the drink in front of Mingi carefully. He makes the mistake of looking up at the brown-haired man, the way he's looming over him, and his heart does that thing that it sometimes does when Yunho looks at him like that. "W-Would you… You don't have work tomorrow, right?"
"Nah," Mingi confirms, taking a sip of his drink, mostly for something to do with his hands. "This is good."
"Mmm," Yunho hums, taking a sip of it too, nodding appreciatively. "You wanna do hungover breakfast together?"
"I'm not going to get drunk enough to be hungover, but sure," Mingi says confidently, taking another gulp of the fruity drink. "This is like 90% juice, anyway."
Right, Yunho thinks, and there's an amusement to the thought that shows on his face, the fond tilt of his eyes, cute.
"Yeah, exactly," he says instead, nodding in agreement. "And we're having dinner, so it'll like, line our stomachs or whatever."
"Yeah," Mingi nods enthusiastically, offering his glass. "Cheers."
He wakes up with the kind of hangover that makes him gag, and he dry heaves into his pillow.
Ew, Yunho's voice drifts to him, except it's not his voice, something disembodied and distant, sleep groggy, do I still have ginger tea?
"I don't want ginger tea," Mingi groans, and he can practically hear the confused !!! that goes through Yunho's mind. "I feel like shit."
"Hmm, gimme two secs, I needa' piss then I'll get you water," Yunho offers, groaning as he rolls off the mattress, knees cracking as he stands. "Oh fuck, my knees, god."
Ow, ow, Yunho thinks, and Mingi would feel bad for him if he wasn't already experiencing enough pain himself, fucks sake, the things I do for him, fuck.
"Shhhh," Mingi groans, and the man shambles out the doorway, ignoring the ambient grunting and moaning the younger man does. "I'm dying!"
Dramatic ass.
Mingi pouts into the pillow, head pounding as he rolls into the space Yunho left behind, still warm. He takes a steadying inhale, the nausea somewhat shrinks as he inhales the laundry scent his best friend has used since the day they've met, the woody, thick scent of his perfume. Everything spins as he cracks open his eyes and takes in the half-light that's dappling the room through Yunho's broken blinds.
"Here, Princess," Yunho murmurs as he coaxes Mingi out of the blanket nest, the wrap of the duvet around his limbs. "I got some painkillers too."
"Thank you," Mingi's voice is wrecked, and he feels absolutely dreadful as he sips the water and takes the pills. "Fuck, what the fuck."
"I don't remember past like, karaoke?" Yunho supplies, and Mingi feels a bit motion sick at the wave of shimmery memories that flash through the older man's mind as he recalls. It's a bizarre sensation, watching himself through Yunho's eyes in brief snapshots, the night seen through a secondary perspective. He's surprised at how weirdly good he looks through Yunho's perception, but it gets pushed aside by the pulsing of his headache.
"Fuck, I don't remember past the second bar," Mingi groans, and he lets his head thump dismally against the older man's thigh. "God, I'm never drinking again."
Right, Yunho chimes in mentally, as he pats Mingi's head gently.
"Right," he says out loud, and the weird echo of it is so surreal that Mingi gags again. "Ew, dude, come on."
"I won't be sick, I just feel…" he makes a vague gesture and manages to heave himself upright. "Okay, maybe I will be, but I'm going now."
Yunho raises an eyebrow at his apparent lack of urgency, the way he drags himself through the doorway. The weird, wordless wave of bemused fondness he gets from the older man in response doesn't particularly make him feel any less disgustingly unsettled, and he shuffles with slightly more speed to the bathroom.
Unsurprisingly, hearing Yunho's thoughts doesn't help the situation, and he sways on the bathroom floor and grips hold of the toilet for dear life, seasick despite being stationary.
Maybe I should have cut him off, they drift through the crack under the door, so audible despite their distance and Mingi wonders abstractly about the logistics of it, at what distance it stops working, am I a bad friend?
It kind of sucks that Yunho's apparently just as nice and humble internally as externally, even if he's apparently agonisingly down bad for one of their friends, and keeping it a secret from Mingi, from his best friend. Mingi struggles to remember that specific train of Yunho's thoughts now he's hungover, unable to pick it apart for any clues past the heaving thudding of his head. He slumps forward, defeated, hoping the toilet seat will cool his forehead.
He knows it's gross, but he's too hungover to care.
… and I guess that would be kind of it for us, then, right? Mingi, unfortunately, tunes back into Yunho's thoughts as the dizziness withdraws a bit, unable to not hear. It would ruin the dynamic of everything, and that's selfish. You're being selfish. And delusional. Stop, stop. Okay, we're moving on. Let's order food, what do we want? Burgers look good but they all look super cheese… No, no, okay…
Mingi groans and gets up. There's not much else he can do but face it, and the mention of food has made the sickness dispel into some uneasy hunger.
"Can we get chicken?" Mingi asks as he wobbles back into the room, his ankle aching as he limps. "Did I do something to my ankle?"
"You tried to jump over this bollard, thing, and ate shit," Yunho informs him, and Mingi cringes at the brief vision of himself falling that plays in the man's head. "Yeah, we can get chicken."
Fuck, I want really crispy fries. Like, properly greasy ones. I hope these are good, the reviews look okay, hmm..
Mingi turns on the radio to try to drown out Yunho's incessant brain chatter.
He manages to behave mostly normally until he crawls into his own bed, exhausted and confused about the events of the past thirty-six hours. He can't get his head around it, the way he can hear into Yunho's mind and hear his thoughts, the fact that his best friend is apparently in love with someone who he's never told Mingi about. He's not sure what part of it stings worse, the fact he hasn't been told, or the fact it isn't him.
It's something he ignores, if he can, the heaviness of unrequited feelings. Because, despite how good he's gotten at pretending, how good he's got at playing the best friend, it still lingers. It feels like everyone knows, except Yunho. And maybe that's the way Mingi wants it. There's a comfort in familiarity, even if it hurts to think of his best friend finding someone else, moving on, being happy. Being unaware.
The sun outside sets, and Mingi watches it go through the window.
He doesn't think he'll ever quite get the courage to speak.
But it turns out he doesn't have to, because Yunho's thoughts are loud enough and frequent enough that he exposes himself all on his own.
He's loading the dishwasher, and Yunho's supposed to be renewing his car tax, or maybe his insurance, but his laptop screen is dark in his glasses when Mingi glances at him. He's zoned out, obviously lost in thought, and Mingi isn't surprised.
His thoughts are constant, loud, overlapping and chaotic. It's exhausting as a bystander, able to flee from, but Yunho carries it with a grace that makes Mingi's lungs feel a bit funny. The way Yunho always makes his lungs feel a bit funny.
… and considering the situation, you should think yourself lucky, idiot.
Mingi can't say he's a huge fan of the way Yunho speaks to himself internally, but without exposing something he has spent the past two weeks hiding, he can't really address it. He frowns as he accidentally gets some cold mashed potato on his finger.
If he found out what you think about him, he'd hate you, and even Yunho reacts to that, because Mingi hears the way his weight shifts on the chair. But look at him, just there, so close, and you can't even get the courage to reach out.
Yunho's thoughts drift from formed words to visuals, and Mingi squeezes his eyes shut for a second, always feeling a bit dizzy when he's shown himself from an exterior perspective.
Mingi's not sure he's really bent that far over, as he puts some plates into the bottom rack, but Yunho apparently sees it that way. It's bizarre to see hands grabbing at him, shoving his sweats down, when no one is actually touching him in real life, and he grips onto the side of the counter.
Yunho appears not to notice, too lost in the way he's imagining squeezing the fat of Mingi's ass, pulling his cheeks apart to see his hole. It's in that moment that Mingi finally registers what the fuck is happening, because his heart seizes up for a second, his own thoughts spinning loudly on top of Yunho's vivid imagination.
Yunho's picturing him, right here, right now.
Suddenly, all the pieces slot into place, and Mingi's eyes widen as he stares at his sort of gross kitchen counter top.
It's him that Yunho's in love with.
He turns sharply, suddenly desperate to see Yunho's face, and the movement obviously shocks him because it finally goes quiet in the other man's head for a second.
"You okay?" Yunho says casually, like he wasn't just picturing fingering Mingi open against the sink. "You look flushed."
"You're in love with me?" Mingi blurts, and the older man goes exceptionally still.
The air feels cold, even though nothing has changed, and Yunho looks like he's at the wrong end of a gun, held hostage. They stare at each other for a long, dragging moment, and Yunho's eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper into confusion, overriding his shock.
"Who-? I… I don't understand, I-" Yunho looks flustered, caught completely off guard, and Mingi watches him closely, pulse fluttering madly in his jaw. "Ha, why would you say that?"
The attempt to play it off is admirable, really, but Mingi can hear the way his thoughts are screaming.
What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, how did he find out, who the fuck told him, I'm going to fucking kill Wooyoung, I bet it was Wooyoung that little rat, what the fuck?
Mingi winces at the volume of them, and Yunho catches it, eyebrows dipping further in pure bafflement.
"What… What's going on?"
"I can hear your thoughts," Mingi says, and he tries to sound vaguely apologetic about it, despite definitely not choosing it, and Yunho looks at him blankly. "Like, I can hear everything you're thinking, unless I'm far away, and they're loud, Yun, it's…? So mean?"
Yunho's eyes widen further, frozen with his confusion, and his brain is currently silent, apparently unable to process. Mingi feels sort of bad, but he's more desperate to make Yunho understand, pushing through.
"Hey, it's okay, I'm kind of in love with you too," Mingi says softly, and Yunho's staring at him.
Wait, what the fuck?
"And you swear so much in your head," Mingi points out, starting to find it amusing, the length of time it's taking Yunho to understand what's happening. "I was surprised, really, when I turned twenty-five. I wasn't expecting to get psychologically linked with my best friend, but…"
Since then? Oh God, what has he heard? Oh fuck, oh no, shit, shit-
"Stop panicking," Mingi says, and he finds himself moving closer, "And please speak to me."
"I'm… You're in love with me?" Yunho's eyes dart around Mingi's face desperately, seemingly searching for something, and he nods slowly.
"Mmm, I…" Mingi realises that maybe he hasn't got out of this situation entirely unscathed, that he'll have to find the courage to talk, somehow. "Since I met you, I think. Tried really hard not to make it- I didn't want you to get uncomfortable with me, so I… Didn't say anything. Kind of tried to ignore it for a long time."
"Oh," Yunho says, echoing the same thought that goes through his brain. "And you can read my mind?"
"Not on purpose!" Mingi clarifies, and Yunho shuffles to move his chair out, guiding the younger man onto his lap from where he's standing in front of him, hovering. "I just woke up, and it was like that. It was really confusing at first."
"Oh my God, wait, no, you have been acting weird!" Yunho blurts out, blinking like he's seeing Mingi for the first time, as if they aren't always pressed together and lacking in the understanding of personal space. It feels obvious in hindsight what that means. "You kept saying weird things when you were hungover."
"Yeah, sorry, I was…" he snorts, "Hungover."
Yunho rolls his eyes, but there's a smile forming on his face, reaching to cradle Mingi's jaw gently.
"So is this… If we both…?" Yunho tilts his head, emanating uncertainty as he bites his bottom lip, ears pink. "You… You saw what I was thinking about."
"Just now?" Mingi checks, smirking, and Yunho's about to drop his hand, when he's intercepted by the younger man's grip to pull him back. "You wanna fuck me so bad," he teases, poking his tongue into his cheek.
"Shut up," Yunho looks so embarrassed, but his brain tells a different story.
Fuck, would he let me? I do wanna fuck him so badly, fuck I bet his ass fucking jiggles when you fuck him, oh fuck he can hear this, he can hear this oh my god-
"Baby," Mingi coaxes him to look back up, leaning closer to his lips. "I'll let you fuck me if you kiss me first."
Yunho relaxes below him, and he lets out a soft sigh before he closes the gap, lips warm as he presses them against Mingi's.
He doesn't need to ask about how Yunho feels about the situation, because his brain helpfully supplies everything Mingi needs to understand instantly.
Yunho's hand wraps around his waist, pulling him closer, and Mingi struggles to know which adrenaline and giddiness is his own and which is Yunho's.
You're kissing him! You're kissing him, fuck, fuck, you're kissing Song Mingi, he tastes so good, fuck that feels so good when he does- Fuck!
He trips over his own thoughts when Mingi nudges his tongue against the seam of his lips, requesting entry. Yunho whimpers softly at that, letting the younger man in easily, and his brain goes suddenly silent as Mingi's hand moves up to grip the back of his neck.
"You taste so good, too, Yuyu," Mingi murmurs into his mouth, lips still brushing with their proximity. "Don't overthink this. You think so much."
Yunho blushes a little at that, kissing Mingi shyly, hands squeezing at his hips.
"I think about you so much," Yunho admits, and it makes Mingi grin against the other man's lips, pleased.
"Like what?" Mingi prompts softly, and Yunho's thoughts answer before he speaks, pupils dilating.
Mingi riding him, face pink and mouth parted. He looks pretty, desperate and wanting, then sliced to Mingi bent over in a random bar bathroom, somewhere grimy that he half recognises, whimpering as Yunho fucks into him hard, blurred into Mingi tied to the older man's familiar black bed frame and how good he looks squirming, trembling, begging for release.
Mingi's cock throbs where it's hardening in his sweatpants, the imagery so vivid and sudden that it feels almost dizzying. It's maybe weird to get hard over yourself, but the way Yunho pictures him is lewd, and it's hard not to react to the obvious thing that's hidden in the flickering of fantasies, heart thumping.
Yunho's pictured all these things before, revisited frequently enough to solidify into almost memory, and it burns in Mingi's gut as the realisation washes over him.
"Oh," he whispers, and Yunho blushes hot as he registers that Mingi's heard everything, again, ears burning. "Really?" And maybe he's smirking, not particularly displeased by the stroking of his ego, the obvious want that clings to Yunho's thoughts.
"S-Stop it, don't look," Yunho chokes out, hiding his face in his hands, pulling away. Mingi chases him, reaching to peel them out of the way, and the man pouts at him, humiliation in his expression. "I'm so-sorry, I can't help it, I'm just- I'm sorry, I-"
"You're so dirty-minded," Mingi murmurs, enjoying the power of the situation, seeing Yunho curl inwards on himself a little. "You're filthy."
Yunho makes a weak noise but moves closer, tilting his jaw upwards in an attempt to get Mingi's lips back on his.
"Please, let me fuck you," Yunho pleads, and as Mingi shifts to wrap his legs more firmly around the older man's hips, the chair creaking ominously beneath them, he feels the large, solid press of the erection Yunho's sporting against his upper thigh.
"Here?" Mingi raises an eyebrow, and Yunho swallows audibly, thighs twitching beneath him. "Don't know if this chair can cope with both of us like this."
"Bed then?" Yunho suggests, and Mingi chuckles at the way he pushes the younger man to his feet, hurried in his movement. "More comfortable."
"Whatever you want," Mingi whispers, "If we use yours, are you gonna tie me to it?"
Fuck, I'm so fucking hard.
"Shut up!" Yunho tugs at him impatiently despite his scowl, ears still so red. "Just- That's an invasion of privacy."
"I didn't ask for it," Mingi says, and Yunho glances back at him as they reach his bedroom door, familiar black bed frame visible as he pauses. "Sorry, though. I felt weird when I realised what was happening."
"It really just came out of nowhere?" Yunho asks, but there's sympathy in his voice rather than judgement, leading them into his room and shutting the door.
Mingi's stomach jitters with that implication, the reality setting in as the older man tugs him onto the bed beside him.
"I'm not mad, just…" Yunho's still a little pink, obviously shy despite the way he's trying to comfort Mingi. "Embarrassed."
"Don't be," Mingi whispers, and he's crawling to push Yunho on his back, to straddle him again. The other man stares at him, silent. "I think about you a lot, too."
God, he's so beautiful.
"Sh-Shut up!" Mingi splutters, caught off guard, and Yunho shakes his head, reaching up to guide Mingi back towards him, closer.
"You are," Yunho says quietly, and Mingi blinks at him, unable to speak. "I think you're so beautiful, it's- God, annoying sometimes, when you're just… Like that. All the time."
"You're insane," Mingi isn't sure whether to laugh or cry, his heart making a racket in his chest, and some strange mix of the two noises falls out of his lips. "All the time?"
"Yeah," Yunho nods, apparently gaining courage at his reactions, and he rolls them, pressing his nose into Mingi's neck. "You even smell good."
"Not all the time," Mingi protests, and Yunho pauses as he considers that before moving to press a soft kiss on his lips.
"I never said that, now, did I?" he teases, and Mingi's eyes widen as he pouts. "But most of the time. 99% of the time."
"You better fuck me good after all these insults," Mingi says, lip still jutting out, and Yunho laughs, back to his neck as he presses a kiss there. "Do you have a big dick?"
"Wanna see?" Yunho suggests, eyebrow twitching, and the younger man swallows. Of course he does; he wants to see very badly, but he at least tries not to sound as desperate as he feels.
"Yeah," Mingi gets out around a dry throat, and he's too distracted to notice that Yunho's brain is quiet, not chattering and overwhelming. "Who do you think is bigger?"
"Is it a competition?" Yunho asks, thumbs in the waistband of his sweats as he tilts his head, smirking at Mingi below him. Rising to the bait instantly. "Me, obviously."
"Why obviously?" Mingi whines, mostly exaggerated, not truly offended, and the older man pulls down his pants as if in response.
Yunho's cock is ginormous.
Mingi doesn't quite mean to freeze, but his hands get stuck around his own waistband, unmoving as he stares. It's got to be close to nine inches, thick as it struggles to hold itself up under its own weight, hard and impressive as it twitches under Mingi's gaze. It's flushed pink, and Yunho strokes himself once, twice, catching the small bead of precum that gathers at his crown.
"Oh, fuck," Mingi whispers, and he feels the palpable smugness radiating from Yunho, sure he could probably sense it even if he couldn't read Yunho's mind, through a brick wall. "Okay, yeah, you win."
"Show me," Yunho says, and he slips his hand alongside Mingi's, tugging the sweats off. They lock eyes for a second, and the younger man notices how dilated Yunho's pupils are. "Please."
Mingi lets it happen, but he does reach to cover his eyes as he gets exposed, shyness starting to prick at him as Yunho removes the material.
"Fuck, you're pretty," he whispers, and it's Mingi's turn to be the one embarrassed, cheeks heating. "You're big, Princess," Yunho leans closer to speak, which Mingi thinks is a bit unfair when he's already so obviously flustered. "With anyone else, you'd definitely be bigger."
"But I'm with you," Mingi points out, and Yunho ignores him for rucking his shirt up, slipping down to mouth at his hipbones.
With you, he's with you, does that mean- What does that mean? Does he mean that the way I want or does he-
"Yun," Mingi calls softly, cutting his spinning brain short. "I want you to fuck me. I want this. I've wanted this for a long time. Don't get lost in your head."
Yunho blinks up at him, wide doe eyes batting at him as he nods, nosing at the base of Mingi's cock, which is hard and drooling, pathetically turned on. But so is Yunho, his dick flushed an angry red already, and Mingi tries to follow his own advice too, tries to quiet his own dizzy brain.
"Can I open you up with my tongue?" Yunho asks, mouthing along Mingi's shaft after his question, making it difficult for the younger man to actually answer. "I got a free gift, this flavoured lube, if that's- Is that weird?"
"Not weird," Mingi shakes his head, abruptly desperate to feel Yunho's tongue inside him, to see his best friend between his legs. "How much did you spend at a sex store to get a free gift?"
"Jesus," Yunho complains, headbutting Mingi's thigh in retaliation. There's something so easy about the way they fall together, the familiarity of it being Yunho he's doing this with. Trust. "Not tha-that much, just- Quiet, I'm going to eat you out."
"Oh no, what a threat," Mingi murmurs, but it's sort of ruined by the way his breathing shudders softly at Yunho pushing his legs apart, "Which drawer is it in?"
"Second," Yunho murmurs, and Mingi can stretch to reach from where he is, rummaging semi-blind from the angle. "It's still in the plastic wrap."
He then makes sure Mingi doesn't make a teasing remark by lapping over his hole, tongue warm and soft against his skin, so hypersensitive when it's Yunho. Because it's Yunho.
"Yunho, fuck," Mingi says, voice slightly too high-pitched to be normal, "Wait a second."
Yunho makes a noise of disagreement as he carries on, mouthing at him slowly, tongue dipping in to gently ease itself inside.
Mingi's hand grabs the correct item, and he can finally squeeze his thighs hard around Yunho's head, reaching to grab his hair and tug him away.
"Here," Mingi passes the lube, reading the label as he hands it over. "Lychee?"
"I didn't choose," Yunho mumbles, fumbling with the plastic wrap to get into the actual product, frowning at the item. "I didn't even know I was getting it until it was in the parcel when I opened it."
"Hm," Mingi hums, and Yunho finally breaks in, throwing the wrapping to the floor. He squirts some onto his fingers and settles back.
"Grab a pillow or two, put them under your hips," Yunho says, blinking up at him, and it's easier to do as he's told than question it, especially if it makes Yunho's cock being inside him happen any quicker. "Yeah, like that."
Mingi settles back on the pillows as told, feeling more exposed like this, but then Yunho's pressed against his skin, and it's hard to remember anything much after all.
He eats Mingi out sloppily, so enthusiastic as he blatantly grinds himself against the mattress, breathing audibly hitching as Mingi's thighs tremble under his spare hand. His fingers work in equally as gently, and the false, chemical sweet scent of the lube makes Mingi's mouth water. He'll deal with the strange cross wiring that's probably going to occur from this later, eyelids fluttering as Yunho's tongue and fingers work in tandem to stretch him wide.
He's never had anyone do this kind of thing before, no one approaching prep with such reverence, taken so much time. It's equal parts maddening and intoxicating, the heady rush of the ego boost making his cock throb uselessly against his stomach.
He's used to fumbling, quick hook-ups, vague disappointment and regret following him home. But it doesn't feel like that, not this time, not when Yunho's massaging his thighs as he holds them up and apart, not when he can feel the saliva that's dripping down the cleft of his ass.
"So good," Yunho slurs against his skin, panting as he licks over his balls, slipping a third finger inside as he kisses at the tip of Mingi's cock. "You taste so good, fuck."
"It's probably the lube," Mingi points out, unable to stop himself, but he tugs Yunho up anyway, impatient. "C-Come here, lemme taste, too."
Yunho does as he's told, lapping messily into the younger man's mouth and Mingi whimpers pitifully as the false taste of lychee hits him, sickly sweet and cloying, sticking to his tongue. It's so good, too good, makes his heart thud and his body shiver, pushing up into Yunho's frame for more.
The angle for Yunho to finger him open is a bit awkward like this, and he has to let him drift back downwards to move things along, pouting as he pulls away, even as he loops a leg lazily over Yunho's back.
Yunho adds a fourth finger, more lube, and the way it trickles down Mingi's skin is sweltering, more turned on than he can remember being in a long, long time. He feels boiling, like every inch of him is under a magnifying glass, like Yunho's the sun beaming through it. He scorches, from head to toe, breathing ragged as he tries to ground himself.
"You're opening up so well for me, Princess," Yunho hums, back to nosing at his hips, his lower stomach, biting little marks into his flesh and kissing over them, soothing with his tongue. "Almost there."
"You're possessive," Mingi mumbles, but it's not a complaint, not when his head falls back and his cock pulses in time with his heartbeat, smearing sticky against his stomach. "Fuck, please, Yuyu."
"I want you to be mine," Yunho says earnestly, lips spit-slick against his inner thigh, sucking another bruise there. "You are mine."
"Mmhmm," Mingi agrees, placid as the other man's fingers nudge against his prostate, hole softening and widening around his digits. "I'm yours," and it comes out weak and breathless, followed by a groan, turning to hide himself in the sheets below him as best he can. "Please, hurry up, it- It's- You're taking too long."
Yunho pulls away at his words, scissoring his fingers a few more times before he withdraws them, slicking himself up with the remnants. Mingi's muscles quiver at the emptiness, at the cool air of the room as it brushes over his skin, at the way Yunho watches him with dark eyes.
"You want it?" He whispers, and Mingi nods rapidly, hips jerking up of their own accord to try and gain friction, unsure how the man can't see how obvious he's being. "I want to hear it."
"I want you to fuck me," Mingi promises, and he puts an arm around Yunho's neck, bringing him close, chest to chest. "I want you."
"Christ," Yunho whispers, low and croaky, and he pulls back momentarily to line up before he returns to be flush to Mingi, foreheads pressed together. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Mingi kisses him, just fleetingly, a confirmation. "Please, Yuyu."
Yunho presses in slowly, watching Mingi as closely and as best he can from the angle they're at, one arm next to the younger man's head and the other guiding himself into his wet, open hole. Mingi shivers.
It feels big, no matter how gradually Yunho eases in, splitting Mingi open as his hand moves to grip at his hip. It makes him moan, the sensations as they overlap, the bruising of Yunho's hold and the overwhelming stretch interweaving until he's whimpering, back to hiding in the sheets, turning his head away.
"You sound so good, Mingi," Yunho murmurs, moving back so he can trail his hands over Mingi's ribs, his waist, his hips. "A little more, baby, yeah?"
"H-Huh, there's more?" Mingi manages, and Yunho tries to stifle a groan at that, squeezing his thick thighs hard.
"You're almost there," Yunho promises, and it's only a few moments later that he feels the older man's pelvis bump against his ass. "There, just like that, take it so well."
"Fuck," Mingi says elegantly, head falling back as he trembles, feeling completely open, stretched wide around Yunho's stupid big cock, his own dick dripping obviously against his stomach. "Shit."
"Okay?" Yunho asks, and he's suddenly right there, leaning closer to press his nose against the crease of Mingi's jaw. "You're so t-tight, Princess."
Mingi whines at that, cock lurching at the nickname in this context, and Yunho lets out a quiet moan. His hand strays down to Mingi's wet dick, stroking him experimentally, watching for the younger man's reaction.
He bites down on his bottom lip, stifling the noises that want to come out, but his muscles flutter, clenching down on Yunho's cock.
"Feel good?" Yunho checks, and Mingi nods, even as it makes their faces knock together.
"Please, move," he can't help the way the pleading tone leaks into it, the urgency building behind his want getting stronger, harder to ignore. "Please, fuck me."
Yunho pulls out, but doesn't move away, still brushing noses as he pauses before, finally, he rolls his hips in.
Mingi moans, obvious and wobbly in the silence of Yunho's bedroom, legs wrapping around the older man's waist to keep him as close as possible. Yunho lets out a breathless whimper, starting up a slow rhythm, so deep as he fucks Mingi, careful with his movements.
"You can go harder," Mingi says, even though he's starting to pant at the way Yunho's dick keeps hitting his prostate, dragging against his walls. "I won't break."
Yunho kisses him, just for a few seconds, before he pulls back, adjusting his grip and pushing Mingi's thighs back further, trying to fold him in half. Then, he starts fucking the younger man properly.
It leaves Mingi brainless, broken moans and soft "ah's" falling from him as Yunho pistons into him, holding him in place. Every thrust knocks the air out of his lungs, every thought out of his head, everything gone except for the overwhelming rolls of pleasure up his spine, and Yunho.
Yunho, who watches him with blown-out pupils, studying as he keeps snapping his hips into Mingi's hole, breathing getting heavier as he presses hard against the younger man's prostate, stimulated again and again with every thrust. Mingi's cock dribbles almost constantly, a puddle of seminal fluid gathering in his belly button, unable to focus on that when everything inside him feels on fire, only moments away from combustion.
It builds and builds until Mingi isn't sure he can stop it overtaking him, despite his cock lying untouched against his stomach. It gathers in the pit of his stomach, burning and all-encompassing, and he whimpers pathetically, squirming against the sheets. Yunho chokes over his moans, hips speeding up as he squeezes his eyes shut.
"Fuck, Min, I-" Yunho groans, interrupting himself, and Mingi whines in return, pleased when the man comes in close enough range that he can press their foreheads together again, needing the grounding. "You feel incredible, baby."
"I-I'm so close," Mingi gets out, body twitching periodically with the waves of it, his cock throbbing, almost purple. "I think I-I'm gonna cum, I-" he keens, as it all gets larger, more urgent. "Oh, fuck, Yunho, I'm g-gonna cum."
"Oh, fuck, please," Yunho chokes out, and his breathing is ragged, "Please, cum for me, baby."
Mingi trembles, everything winding tight in the base of his gut, before he goes taunt, a desperate moan slipping between his teeth. It hits him like a steam-train, boiling hot and seemingly unending, rolls and rolls of it crashing over him as he spurts cums over his own stomach, so much more of it than usual. His cock throbs, jerking as he whines through it, and Yunho makes a noise of pleasure, low and needy as he keeps fucking into Mingi.
"You're gripping me so tight," Yunho says, and he sounds dazed, panting through his words. "Feel fuck-fucking so good, I-" he presses a messy kiss on Mingi's lips, his urgency obvious in his movements, chest heaving. "Min, please."
"F-Fuck, shit," Mingi gasps, teetering into overstimulation, "Yunho, I love you, please," he whimpers, and then Yunho is going tense, his release warm as it fills the younger man, pulsing inside him as he cums. His eyes fall shut as he moans, beautiful as he quivers against Mingi, burying himself as deep as possible inside his fluttering hole.
"I love you," Yunho is breathless, catching as his hips twitch, dick still throbbing obviously against Mingi's walls. "Holy shit."
It takes both of them several minutes to be able to unravel from each other, Yunho catching his breath against Mingi's neck, letting him scratch gently at the back of his head. When he pulls back, pulls out, Mingi watches him, gnawing at his bottom lip, realising he can't hear anything from Yunho's usually active brain.
"Are you just not thinking, or has it stopped?" Mingi whispers, and Yunho tilts his head, eyes darting as he quite obviously thinks, hard. "I think it's… Gone?"
"Really?" Yunho murmurs, and he closes his eyes, eyebrows furrowing. "Okay, I'm picturing a shape. What is it?"
"I can't… I don't know, a triangle?" Mingi tries, and Yunho grins as he opens his eyes, shaking his head, "A cube?"
"Wait, yeah, a cube!" Yunho giggles, and it's so comforting, the way his body curves to lean into Mingi's as he laughs, as he always does, the way his eyes light up. "It was red."
"I didn't see it," Mingi promises, and he nudges his nose into the man's temple, smelling his familiar shampoo, the coconut conditioner he uses. "You've got your privacy back."
"Mmm," Yunho hums, "I'm grateful, as much as it helped in this situation, I suppose," he mumbles, and Mingi grins into his hair, pressing a kiss there. "Do you want to shower with me? That Lychee smell is kind of overwhelming."
"Yes, please," Mingi nods, agreeing, letting the older man grab them some towels from his wardrobe before following, "I don't know, I kind of like it."
"Yeah, but you said Wooyoung's cologne was nice when he was just vaping a Blue Razz, so I don't know if I trust your judgment."
"Hey!" Mingi calls, trailing the man into the bathroom, pouting. "I tried it, and honestly, I don't get it, dude, it was just this weird like, head rush, nothin-"
"Dude?" Yunho blurts, raising his eyebrows, and Mingi blinks for a second. "Don't vape strangers' vapes."
"It's Wooyoung, he's not a stranger," Mingi points out, and the older man just keeps staring at him. "Yeah, I, uh- I don't know, is it… I can't just be like, babe, can I?"
"I wouldn't mind," Yunho says quietly, conveniently using this moment to fiddle with the shower controls, start the water rushing. Mingi shuffles in behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. "Hey."
"Hey," he whispers, pressing a kiss on Yunho's bare shoulder, "Are we…? Is this, like, uh-"
"Can we be?" Yunho says, over the loud pattering of the shower, "Can we keep being like this?"
"Yeah," Mingi agrees, heart flipping at the prospect, "Fuck, of course, yeah."
Yunho smiles, shy and soft as he drags them under the spray, pushing Mingi's hair out of his face.
"Good," Yunho murmurs, and his ears are so pink as he speaks, "We should probably tell Wooyoung first, if that's… If you don't mind- I-"
"Yeah, he'll like that anyway," Mingi teases, mostly watching as Yunho starts to wash and shampoo his hair. "He'll feel special."
"He'll definitely tell San, though," Yunho points out, and Mingi shrugs.
"So?"
"Okay," Yunho whispers, grinning as he turns away, "Cool."