Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Mingyu Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Yoon Jeonghan, flatmates Permission to remix: Yes
wc: 600+
A/N: vee.. *shakes fist*
***
Mingyu tastes like summer and the honeycomb latte he had toyed with hours earlier when Wonwoo finally kisses him in the back of the car.
It’s far too public and dangerous than Wonwoo dares to go usually, but the person driving is a friend of a friend of a friend—which is to say someone who Wonwoo has gamed with maybe twice in his life—and well, Wonwoo wants to cross the line today.
When you’re going back on your own words, turning a guaranteed no into an insistent, undeniable yes—you might as well go fucking big.
*
They stand hip to hip on the elevator up to their apartment and maybe it’s silly that they don’t take the chance to kiss now that they’re all alone, but Wonwoo knows that with Mingyu half the battle is won in getting him tense in all the right ways.
Living together has left little to the imagination and they almost know each other too well as flatmates—but not like this.
There’s a strange thrill to merely letting their knuckles brush against each other instead of reaching out; something entirely unfamiliar about their reflections on the elevator door that tells him perhaps they don’t know each other at all.
*
Predictably, Mingyu pushes him against the door the second it shuts behind them and Wonwoo welcomes it: the push, the pressure, the moment before their lips touch when they’re breathing each other in.
Mingyu kisses him unabashedly, no awkward attempts at hiding how much he wants Wonwoo and Wonwoo doesn’t care if it’s fucked up—all he can think about is the intensity of that very first time Jeonghan kissed him.
How much of Mingyu is in Jeonghan’s kisses and how much of Jeonghan in Mingyu’s he’ll probably never be able to tell but to know their imprints on each other is enough.
It surprises him to realise how much he wants to be the only one to ever find out.
*
With Mingyu spread out underneath him on his bed, Wonwoo takes a moment to trail his nose down from Mingyu’s neck to his own pillow and inhale, slow and deep.
Mingyu turns his head and bites Wonwoo’s earlobe—harder enough that Wonwoo gasps.
“You’re fucking me, not him.” Mingyu says.
Wonwoo captures his lips before he’s done speaking and doesn’t relent until they’re both breathless and spit-slick messy.
“And you’re fucking me…not him.” Wonwoo grinds down on Mingyu, as he replies, bare skin against bare skin at last.
Wonwoo remembers only too well what the last person that laid on his sheets looked like—and clearly, Mingyu does too—but the thought stays at the back of his mind.
Crawling down the length of Mingyu’s body, leaving little teasing bites as he goes, he has more pressing things to tend to: having something he unwittingly craved laid out for him to see and touch, when all this while the only thing he could do was listen in.
“Hyung,” Rings out loud and pleading when Wonwoo puts his mouth on Mingyu, fingers coming to tangle in Wonwoo’s short black strands only too naturally.
Neither of them makes the mistake of taking any wrong names that night.
*
Was it intentional, what they both did before they could get to this point? Or were they just casualties of someone else’s game?
If someone asked him later, he would claim he doesn’t remember.
But in the morning when he wakes to Mingyu straddling his hips, sunlight cast over his ribs as they rippled under Wonwoo’s touch, there is the distinct smell of a successful exorcism in the air.
[REMIX] if i can't have you, no one should
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Yoon Jeonghan, flatmates
Permission to remix: Yes
wc: 600+
A/N: vee.. *shakes fist*
***
Mingyu tastes like summer and the honeycomb latte he had toyed with hours earlier when Wonwoo finally kisses him in the back of the car.
It’s far too public and dangerous than Wonwoo dares to go usually, but the person driving is a friend of a friend of a friend—which is to say someone who Wonwoo has gamed with maybe twice in his life—and well, Wonwoo wants to cross the line today.
When you’re going back on your own words, turning a guaranteed no into an insistent, undeniable yes—you might as well go fucking big.
*
They stand hip to hip on the elevator up to their apartment and maybe it’s silly that they don’t take the chance to kiss now that they’re all alone, but Wonwoo knows that with Mingyu half the battle is won in getting him tense in all the right ways.
Living together has left little to the imagination and they almost know each other too well as flatmates—but not like this.
There’s a strange thrill to merely letting their knuckles brush against each other instead of reaching out; something entirely unfamiliar about their reflections on the elevator door that tells him perhaps they don’t know each other at all.
*
Predictably, Mingyu pushes him against the door the second it shuts behind them and Wonwoo welcomes it: the push, the pressure, the moment before their lips touch when they’re breathing each other in.
Mingyu kisses him unabashedly, no awkward attempts at hiding how much he wants Wonwoo and Wonwoo doesn’t care if it’s fucked up—all he can think about is the intensity of that very first time Jeonghan kissed him.
How much of Mingyu is in Jeonghan’s kisses and how much of Jeonghan in Mingyu’s he’ll probably never be able to tell but to know their imprints on each other is enough.
It surprises him to realise how much he wants to be the only one to ever find out.
*
With Mingyu spread out underneath him on his bed, Wonwoo takes a moment to trail his nose down from Mingyu’s neck to his own pillow and inhale, slow and deep.
Mingyu turns his head and bites Wonwoo’s earlobe—harder enough that Wonwoo gasps.
“You’re fucking me, not him.” Mingyu says.
Wonwoo captures his lips before he’s done speaking and doesn’t relent until they’re both breathless and spit-slick messy.
“And you’re fucking me…not him.” Wonwoo grinds down on Mingyu, as he replies, bare skin against bare skin at last.
Wonwoo remembers only too well what the last person that laid on his sheets looked like—and clearly, Mingyu does too—but the thought stays at the back of his mind.
Crawling down the length of Mingyu’s body, leaving little teasing bites as he goes, he has more pressing things to tend to: having something he unwittingly craved laid out for him to see and touch, when all this while the only thing he could do was listen in.
“Hyung,” Rings out loud and pleading when Wonwoo puts his mouth on Mingyu, fingers coming to tangle in Wonwoo’s short black strands only too naturally.
Neither of them makes the mistake of taking any wrong names that night.
*
Was it intentional, what they both did before they could get to this point? Or were they just casualties of someone else’s game?
If someone asked him later, he would claim he doesn’t remember.
But in the morning when he wakes to Mingyu straddling his hips, sunlight cast over his ribs as they rippled under Wonwoo’s touch, there is the distinct smell of a successful exorcism in the air.
Until the ghost rings the doorbell, of course.