Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Wonwoo, (Jeonghan/Mingyu) Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: hooking up with your best friend’s pseudo-ex, non-explicit sex, minwon roommates…but not in the way you think Permission to remix: Yes
op I don't know if this is in any shape or form what you had in mind but um. it took a life of its own. sorry?
/
It is terrible to desire and not possess, and terrible to possess and not desire. — W. B. Yeats.
/
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Wonwoo placed his palm flat against the wall, intrigued. Months ago, having been ensnared in the irresistible net of Mingyu’s persuasion, Wonwoo had granted his roommate’s boyfriend the privilege to come and go as he pleased. Jeonghan had their door code—he could have used it if he wanted to.
“Mingyu’s not here,” Wonwoo prompted when Jeonghan did nothing but stare at him.
“I knew that,” Jeonghan waved a dismissive hand. “I’m here to see you.”
He arched an eyebrow, a wordless me? Jeonghan nodded and gave him a crooked smile.
“We were friends first, you know.” Expectation turned Jeonghan’s irises a shade lighter. “Does Mingyu have to get you in the divorce just because you two live together?”
Wonwoo supposed not.
So he said, “Come on in.”
Having had no intention to discuss what happened with Mingyu, Jeonghan immediately ransacked the cabinet under the TV and tossed one of Wonwoo’s controllers at him. Out of respect, Wonwoo indulged him in a game of Mario Kart.
Last Friday, he came home to the unpleasant aftermath of a fight. A proper one, judging by Mingyu’s clenched fists and Jeonghan’s crimson nape. Wonwoo took one look at them and chose to pay the price of an immediate retreat: nescience. He never enjoyed being an audience to a lover's spat. Ironic, considering arguments were far from the most intimate affair of theirs he had taken part in.
Wonwoo heard them fucking, too, and often.
He never brought up the topic, but Mingyu would tiptoe into the kitchen mid-noon the next day and do a poor job of feigning embarrassment. Did you hear us? Nope. Hyung. I didn’t. Sorry if you did. I didn’t, Mingyu-yah. Okay, Wonu-hyung, if you say so. Jeonghan never bothered trying. We used ropes for the first time and he got really into it. Ah, did he? Yeah. Wonungie, do we have eggs in the fridge? Every time, Wonwoo anticipated one of them to call him out: you know, we heard you too. And every time, his choked-out moans of their names, spilt at the precipice of his release, remained an unaddressed elephant for a while longer.
The morning after his fight with Jeonghan, Mingyu had announced, “We broke up for good,” apropos of nothing.
Wonwoo looked up, fingertip tracing the rim of his half-empty coffee cup. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Mingyu tsked and pushed back his chair, its feet producing a cacophonous harmony as they flayed the floorboards. Ah, he's thinning our deposit bond, Wonwoo thought, staring at the friction marks. The horrible song persisted as Mingyu stomped to his room and slammed the door shut. Wonwoo finished his coffee and lay down on the couch. The cushion smelled of Jeonghan’s shampoo.
He turned on his stomach. Pressed his face against the velvet. Inhaled.
/
Jeonghan’s golden strands tickled Wonwoo’s jaw as he charted a new path down his neck. Ten minutes ago, when Jeonghan had stopped the game unprompted, Wonwoo turned towards him on instinct, a question ready to launch from the tip of his tongue. Jeonghan had robbed him of his coherence when he greeted Wonwoo lips first. Wonwoo wouldn’t trust his own testimony of what happened between then and now.
“This doesn’t have to mean anything,” Wonwoo proposed breathlessly as Jeonghan worked open his buttons.
Jeonghan wrenched away. “Of course it means something,” he argued heatedly, lips the colour of lust. “It has to.”
His intensity stunned Wonwoo. Flames danced in Jeonghan’s eyes, so scintillating they could almost be mistaken as true passion—except Wonwoo tasted spite when Jeonghan swiped his tongue over the back of his teeth. Who did he want the act to hold meaning for? Wonwoo wondered. The people in this room, or the person absent?
“You’re so good, Wonungie,” Jeonghan praised sweetly. His honey voice morphed into an acerbic whisper when he claimed, “so much better than—“
Wonwoo silenced him before Jeonghan had the chance to finish his sentence. Upon separation, Jeonghan laughed and buried his delight into the hinge of Wonwoo’s jaw. Wonwoo stared at a photograph of Mingyu over his bare shoulder, mouthing at the constellation of freckles gracing the bony edge. They could’ve been friends, he and Jeonghan. They were friends before Wonwoo introduced him to Mingyu. Before Mingyu asked Wonwoo out on a date and Wonwoo turned him down. Before Mingyu showed up short of two weeks later with an arm around Jeonghan’s waist. If someone were to question who was in the middle of who and who, Wonwoo wouldn’t be able to give them a straight answer.
“Maybe you would’ve been better in everything else, too.”
Wonwoo sincerely doubted that.
/
“Hey.”
“Hi,” Wonwoo leaned against the door.
Jeonghan looked at him through those lashes that had swept over the arch of Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Is Mingoo here?”
He nodded.
“Mingyu-yah?” Wonwoo sung.
“Yes, hyung?”
Recognising the direction from which Mingyu's answering verse had come, Jeonghan fixed his gaze at a distant spot behind Wonwoo. When he got up to answer the door, Wonwoo had left Mingyu spread-eagled on his bed, steam billowing from his post-shower skin, body hot to the touch. He was scrolling through his Instagram's saved posts in search of a restaurant he wanted to try with Wonwoo tonight.
[FILL] as that hollow moon
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: hooking up with your best friend’s pseudo-ex, non-explicit sex, minwon roommates…but not in the way you think
Permission to remix: Yes
op I don't know if this is in any shape or form what you had in mind but um. it took a life of its own. sorry?
It is terrible to desire and not possess, and terrible to possess and not desire.
— W. B. Yeats.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Wonwoo placed his palm flat against the wall, intrigued. Months ago, having been ensnared in the irresistible net of Mingyu’s persuasion, Wonwoo had granted his roommate’s boyfriend the privilege to come and go as he pleased. Jeonghan had their door code—he could have used it if he wanted to.
“Mingyu’s not here,” Wonwoo prompted when Jeonghan did nothing but stare at him.
“I knew that,” Jeonghan waved a dismissive hand. “I’m here to see you.”
He arched an eyebrow, a wordless me? Jeonghan nodded and gave him a crooked smile.
“We were friends first, you know.” Expectation turned Jeonghan’s irises a shade lighter. “Does Mingyu have to get you in the divorce just because you two live together?”
Wonwoo supposed not.
So he said, “Come on in.”
Having had no intention to discuss what happened with Mingyu, Jeonghan immediately ransacked the cabinet under the TV and tossed one of Wonwoo’s controllers at him. Out of respect, Wonwoo indulged him in a game of Mario Kart.
Last Friday, he came home to the unpleasant aftermath of a fight. A proper one, judging by Mingyu’s clenched fists and Jeonghan’s crimson nape. Wonwoo took one look at them and chose to pay the price of an immediate retreat: nescience. He never enjoyed being an audience to a lover's spat. Ironic, considering arguments were far from the most intimate affair of theirs he had taken part in.
Wonwoo heard them fucking, too, and often.
He never brought up the topic, but Mingyu would tiptoe into the kitchen mid-noon the next day and do a poor job of feigning embarrassment. Did you hear us? Nope. Hyung. I didn’t. Sorry if you did. I didn’t, Mingyu-yah. Okay, Wonu-hyung, if you say so. Jeonghan never bothered trying. We used ropes for the first time and he got really into it. Ah, did he? Yeah. Wonungie, do we have eggs in the fridge? Every time, Wonwoo anticipated one of them to call him out: you know, we heard you too. And every time, his choked-out moans of their names, spilt at the precipice of his release, remained an unaddressed elephant for a while longer.
The morning after his fight with Jeonghan, Mingyu had announced, “We broke up for good,” apropos of nothing.
Wonwoo looked up, fingertip tracing the rim of his half-empty coffee cup. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Mingyu tsked and pushed back his chair, its feet producing a cacophonous harmony as they flayed the floorboards. Ah, he's thinning our deposit bond, Wonwoo thought, staring at the friction marks. The horrible song persisted as Mingyu stomped to his room and slammed the door shut. Wonwoo finished his coffee and lay down on the couch. The cushion smelled of Jeonghan’s shampoo.
He turned on his stomach. Pressed his face against the velvet. Inhaled.
Jeonghan’s golden strands tickled Wonwoo’s jaw as he charted a new path down his neck. Ten minutes ago, when Jeonghan had stopped the game unprompted, Wonwoo turned towards him on instinct, a question ready to launch from the tip of his tongue. Jeonghan had robbed him of his coherence when he greeted Wonwoo lips first. Wonwoo wouldn’t trust his own testimony of what happened between then and now.
“This doesn’t have to mean anything,” Wonwoo proposed breathlessly as Jeonghan worked open his buttons.
Jeonghan wrenched away. “Of course it means something,” he argued heatedly, lips the colour of lust. “It has to.”
His intensity stunned Wonwoo. Flames danced in Jeonghan’s eyes, so scintillating they could almost be mistaken as true passion—except Wonwoo tasted spite when Jeonghan swiped his tongue over the back of his teeth. Who did he want the act to hold meaning for? Wonwoo wondered. The people in this room, or the person absent?
“You’re so good, Wonungie,” Jeonghan praised sweetly. His honey voice morphed into an acerbic whisper when he claimed, “so much better than—“
Wonwoo silenced him before Jeonghan had the chance to finish his sentence. Upon separation, Jeonghan laughed and buried his delight into the hinge of Wonwoo’s jaw. Wonwoo stared at a photograph of Mingyu over his bare shoulder, mouthing at the constellation of freckles gracing the bony edge. They could’ve been friends, he and Jeonghan. They were friends before Wonwoo introduced him to Mingyu. Before Mingyu asked Wonwoo out on a date and Wonwoo turned him down. Before Mingyu showed up short of two weeks later with an arm around Jeonghan’s waist. If someone were to question who was in the middle of who and who, Wonwoo wouldn’t be able to give them a straight answer.
“Maybe you would’ve been better in everything else, too.”
Wonwoo sincerely doubted that.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” Wonwoo leaned against the door.
Jeonghan looked at him through those lashes that had swept over the arch of Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Is Mingoo here?”
He nodded.
“Mingyu-yah?” Wonwoo sung.
“Yes, hyung?”
Recognising the direction from which Mingyu's answering verse had come, Jeonghan fixed his gaze at a distant spot behind Wonwoo. When he got up to answer the door, Wonwoo had left Mingyu spread-eagled on his bed, steam billowing from his post-shower skin, body hot to the touch. He was scrolling through his Instagram's saved posts in search of a restaurant he wanted to try with Wonwoo tonight.
“Someone’s here to see you."
Wonwoo stepped aside and let Jeonghan in.