Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Mingyu Major Tags: Explicit Sexual Content Additional Tags: The Last of Us AU, wound tending but it’s Sexy Time, love at the end of the world, yes I watched the show for this, a whisper of Soonyoung/Vernon because after all this is for Em. <3 Permission to remix: Please ask
A/N: in case you're not familiar with the source material: TLoU is a video game set in a post-apocalyptic world following an outbreak of infectious brain disease. Vernon is immune and members of a rebel militia (the Fireflies) are trying to get him from the government quarantine zone to a pharmaceutical lab in Incheon in hopes of developing a treatment for the disease. tbh, not too relevant to the plot. (there isn’t one. just minwon.)
There are a million ways we should've died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight... for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes, or two days... we don't give that up. I don't want to give that up.
“What?” Mingyu sounds annoyed. The sharp hitch in his breath when Wonwoo pulls his shirt down, exposing the base of his neck, tells another story. “Seriously. What do you want?”
No one ever compliments his creativity—Wonwoo’s hands are good for holding weapons and Mingyu, not pencils and brushes—but he knows how to best paint devotion on the golden canvas of his lover’s skin.
He’s discovered the winning sequence some years ago: an open-mouthed kiss on his pulse point, gentle bites along the slope of his graceful neck, and a reverberating hum against the hollow of his throat. That’s all it takes to break him.
“Damn you,” Mingyu whispers, a second before his lips crash into Wonwoo’s.
He tastes of mint, which Mingyu downright abhors. Not that they have many options. 20 years after Outbreak Day, hygiene products have become a rarity. Still, Mingyu insists on being overwhelmingly vocal about his preference, citing the availability of mint toothpaste as proof that the rest of the country agrees with him. See? He’d nudge Wonwoo’s side. Whatever is left behind are things people don’t want. Their last choice.
Most of the time, Wonwoo gives him an acknowledging glance, but there are instances when he considers replying to Mingyu. You’re my last choice too, you know. And yet I can’t stand the thought of leaving you behind. Now before anyone mistakes him, there is one else. Mingyu is the first and last. The only. What Wonwoo means is: love only has two endings. Death and loss. Who in their goddamn right mind would choose this?
“Wanna ride you, hyung.”
Wonwoo raises a brow. “You never do.”
His fingers skirt the edge of the gauze covering Wonwoo’s right shoulder. This morning, one particularly ugly bastard threw him into the shelves in an old CU. It also bashed Vernon’s head against the freezer before Soonyoung put a sword through its mouth. Here’s what amazes Wonwoo about Mingyu: he drops flashlights every time one is handed to him, but his hands were ever-steady as he threaded the needle through Vernon’s skin, closing his head wound with neat stitches. Soonyoung watched them closely, fingernails chewed to ruin. He only allowed his walls to come down when Vernon looked up at him, head swimming in morphine.
“Why are you crying? I’m the one hurt.”
Soonyoung kneeled beside him and called him an idiot through his sobs.
Mingyu spared no tears when he fixed Wonwoo up. He did his work methodically and got up to boil water so Soonyoung could wash up once he was done. Then he took it upon himself to radio the next safe house to inform them of their delay, a task usually left to Wonwoo.
But he understands. When Mingyu climbs over him, eyes bright and seeking, it is because a brush with death inevitably drives him to chase the one thing that keeps him alive. Wonwoo understands, because he is the same.
“I do tonight,” Mingyu murmurs, smiling warmly. “Lie down?”
“Eh. I’m okay.”
Mingyu levels him with a look that has never once worked to change Wonwoo’s mind. He sighs. “At least let me give you something for the pain.”
Wonwoo grins and slaps his ass lightly, jolting him forward. “Aren’t you about to?”
“Hyung.”
“That shit numbs me.”
“Yes, that’s the point.”
He shakes his head and draws Mingyu close, hands slipping underneath his thin cotton shirt. Ah. He always runs furnace-hot. Knowing he’ll soon be wrapped in Mingyu’s fire has Wonwoo’s cock stirring in arousal.
“Don’t want it.”
“Why not?”
“Because then I can’t feel you. I wanna feel you.” Unlike Mingyu, Wonwoo has ice in his veins. His cold fingers are unforgiving, greedy for the heat the skin underneath them emanates; Mingyu’s muscles tense when they circle his opening. Wonwoo places a bite over the hinge of his jaw, then adds, “Wanna fill you.”
Hips pitching forward, Mingyu leaves the argument behind to deliver his consent in the form of a messy exchange, one ending with bruised lips and overworked hearts. His hand combs through Wonwoo’s hair as he opens up to him, escalating pleasure evident from his increasingly broken moans.
“Faster,” he asks.
Begs, really.
Wonwoo ignores the burning in his shoulder and complies. Who’s the dog now? The blinding smile he gets as a reward is priceless. Mingyu is a sun. Wonwoo stares at him, forewarning and consequences be damned.
“You… you always get so deep when we do—fuck.”
“What? Don’t like it?”
“No.”
“You wanted this. Wanted me deep. Do you feel me in your lungs? Or your throat, maybe? Hm?”
“N-no.”
He gets a hand around Mingyu’s cock. “Liar.”
“Fuck.” His teeth dig into his lower lip, draining the blush contained within. Wonwoo tightens his fist and tugs. “Yes, yes. Yes. Just like that. Wonwoo-yah, harder, please—like it’s our last. Like the world ends tomorrow.”
Wonwoo clamps a hand over his mouth. Mingyu talks too much. Laughs and whines and moans, too. He makes all sorts of sounds to fill the overwhelming silence distinct to an apocalypse. If Wonwoo’s being honest, some of those sounds aren’t half bad. Hardly anyone believes in God these days, yet Wonwoo is worshipped every time Mingyu calls his name.
“The world already ended. And what did I say about ruining the mood?”
Mingyu licks his palm. Disgusting. Wonwoo uses the hand to stroke him properly. “You’re rock hard,” taunts Mingyu. “I’d say the mood is still very much alive. I know you.” He mouths at Wonwoo’s ear, then his bandaged shoulder, calloused hand rubbing against the coarse material of the gauze. Wonwoo sets his lips against Mingyu’s roaring pulse. “Feels that good inside me, huh? You close yet? You were close the moment the tip went in. Fool.”
He's right. Nurturing something worth losing in a world where loss is the norm is a fool’s decision.
Mingyu, though?
Mingyu makes choosing him so easy.
As he curls up against Wonwoo’s side, afterglow casts a golden sheen over Mingyu’s skin. Wonwoo should’ve stayed in school a while longer. Perhaps it would have given him the words to do Mingyu's beauty justice. Mingyu lifts his head from Wonwoo’s chest, chin propped on his palm.
“Shut up,” Wonwoo immediately says.
Mingyu laughs. “I haven’t said anything.”
“This right here…” he gestures vaguely to Mingyu’s face, “is saying a lot.”
“Your fault for knowing how to read me.” Smiling at Wonwoo, Mingyu’s features soften. The creases on his forehead disappear as his brows relax, his lips no longer pulled tight. He looks so boyish, so harmless, Wonwoo momentarily forgets his words can cut. The reminder is a dagger to his heart. “I love you.”
The ensuing silence is crystalline, still in the night. Handle it the wrong way and it will explode, sending a million tiny shards flying in all directions. Wonwoo thinks he is the same. All it takes is one single touch at the right place, and Mingyu is more than well-acquainted with every inch of his body.
“Can you not?”
Mingyu looks away. “It hurts when you don’t want to hear it.”
“Because you say one thing and mean another,” Wonwoo responds, jaw clenching involuntarily. “You’re telling me not to forget you when you’re gone.”
“Wonwoo-hyung.”
“Seriously,” Wonwoo warns. “Don’t.”
Undeterred, Mingyu marches on. “If we’re lucky, I might see this through with you. If we’re not, I don’t want you wishing you had accepted the words more often when I said them.”
Not wanting to hear another word of Mingyu’s nonsense, Wonwoo gets up. Mingyu seizes his elbow and pulls him down. Emotion builds up at the back of his throat. He wants to scream until his voice is as raw as the look Mingyu is giving him.
“With or without me, you need to get Vernon to the Lab.”
He breaks free from Mingyu’s hold and blocks his ears. His hands help, but not much. Mingyu’s muted voice slips through the barrier.
“He’s too important, okay? Too important to be given up.” Love recognises, that's what it does. There is no way to hide his intentions from Mingyu. Hands on either side of his face, Mingyu forces Wonwoo to look at him. “He can save them all. Everyone. So you can not give up. No matter what happens.” To me.
“I don’t give a shit about everyone, Mingyu.”
“Then do it for me. Do it because you love me.” Ask me anything else, Wonwoo silently pleads. Ask me anything else, but let me follow you wherever you go. Mingyu searches his eyes and smiles at whatever it is he discovers in them. He leans in, mouth moving against Wonwoo’s, a tentative dance. “When you’ve done what I asked—and not a second before—you come home to me. Walk through the door of our house and you’ll find meals from the old world on the table; they’ll become your favourites after the first bite. Seriously, when was the last time you had kalguksu? I promise to make you one. It’ll take me a few tries, and that’ll keep me busy until you arrive. You know, learning how to cook properly. Oh, and our beloved creatures. How can I forget about Nambi and Ddukkong? God. They’ll be so happy to see you.”
He has no idea when his hands have abandoned their futile protection of his ears and returned to their rightful place, wrapped around Mingyu’s middle, but Wonwoo never wants to let go.
“A place to love without hurt,” Mingyu adds softly, tucking a strand of Wonwoo’s unkempt hair behind his ear. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Wonwoo looks at him. How can such a powerful force be hosted in such a fragile shell, ready to be overtaken by another master at any time?
“I’m terrified.”
Mingyu hums, then rest his chin on Wonwoo’s uninjured shoulder. “When I joined the Fireflies, they told me you weren’t afraid of anything.”
“They were right.”
“I understand.” He pats Wonwoo’s back rhythmically. “It’s a long road to Incheon—“
“You think those Infecteds scare me?” Wonwoo interrupts, pulling back. “No, it’s you. You. Just the thought of leaving you behind, of you leaving me behind—it is fucking paralysing. Do you not understand who you are to me? What you do to me? Mingyu, if—”
He stops.
Love only has two endings. If Wonwoo were to experience one, the other would follow closely behind.
He stumbled upon the terminology in one of those yellow-paged medical textbooks. Broken heart syndrome. They said the condition is temporary, that the heart heals itself over time—but whoever wrote those pages hadn’t discovered Mingyu. Wonwoo did. There are some losses you never recover from.
“I’d rather be in the eternal doghouse with Ddukkong than spend a second in this wretched place without you.”
“Poor Ddukkong, forced to share his precious space with you,” Mingyu comments, tone taking a teasing dip. His lashes are wet. “Will you do as I ask, please?”
“Mingyu.”
“Please.”
"I—"
"Allow me this, hyung. Please."
“Okay,” Wonwoo eventually yields. Mingyu lets out a relieved sigh. “But I want something in return.”
His eyes sharpen, focus narrowed to Wonwoo. “There’s nothing of mine that isn’t already yours. There’s no part of me without your name on it.”
“You haven’t given me this yet.”
“I’m listening.”
“One more good day,” he requests, caressing the beauty mark on Mingyu’s cheek. Mingyu melts against him as though Wonwoo is the warm one. “I want one more good day with you.”
“I can do one more good day,” Mingyu answers, voice tender. “And after that?”
Wonwoo leans up to seal a promise against his lips: “I’ll ask again.”
[FILL] one more good day
Major Tags: Explicit Sexual Content
Additional Tags: The Last of Us AU, wound tending but it’s Sexy Time, love at the end of the world, yes I watched the show for this, a whisper of Soonyoung/Vernon because after all this is for Em. <3
Permission to remix: Please ask
A/N: in case you're not familiar with the source material: TLoU is a video game set in a post-apocalyptic world following an outbreak of infectious brain disease. Vernon is immune and members of a rebel militia (the Fireflies) are trying to get him from the government quarantine zone to a pharmaceutical lab in Incheon in hopes of developing a treatment for the disease. tbh, not too relevant to the plot. (there isn’t one. just minwon.)
“What?” Mingyu sounds annoyed. The sharp hitch in his breath when Wonwoo pulls his shirt down, exposing the base of his neck, tells another story. “Seriously. What do you want?”
No one ever compliments his creativity—Wonwoo’s hands are good for holding weapons and Mingyu, not pencils and brushes—but he knows how to best paint devotion on the golden canvas of his lover’s skin.
He’s discovered the winning sequence some years ago: an open-mouthed kiss on his pulse point, gentle bites along the slope of his graceful neck, and a reverberating hum against the hollow of his throat. That’s all it takes to break him.
“Damn you,” Mingyu whispers, a second before his lips crash into Wonwoo’s.
He tastes of mint, which Mingyu downright abhors. Not that they have many options. 20 years after Outbreak Day, hygiene products have become a rarity. Still, Mingyu insists on being overwhelmingly vocal about his preference, citing the availability of mint toothpaste as proof that the rest of the country agrees with him. See? He’d nudge Wonwoo’s side. Whatever is left behind are things people don’t want. Their last choice.
Most of the time, Wonwoo gives him an acknowledging glance, but there are instances when he considers replying to Mingyu. You’re my last choice too, you know. And yet I can’t stand the thought of leaving you behind. Now before anyone mistakes him, there is one else. Mingyu is the first and last. The only. What Wonwoo means is: love only has two endings. Death and loss. Who in their goddamn right mind would choose this?
“Wanna ride you, hyung.”
Wonwoo raises a brow. “You never do.”
His fingers skirt the edge of the gauze covering Wonwoo’s right shoulder. This morning, one particularly ugly bastard threw him into the shelves in an old CU. It also bashed Vernon’s head against the freezer before Soonyoung put a sword through its mouth. Here’s what amazes Wonwoo about Mingyu: he drops flashlights every time one is handed to him, but his hands were ever-steady as he threaded the needle through Vernon’s skin, closing his head wound with neat stitches. Soonyoung watched them closely, fingernails chewed to ruin. He only allowed his walls to come down when Vernon looked up at him, head swimming in morphine.
“Why are you crying? I’m the one hurt.”
Soonyoung kneeled beside him and called him an idiot through his sobs.
Mingyu spared no tears when he fixed Wonwoo up. He did his work methodically and got up to boil water so Soonyoung could wash up once he was done. Then he took it upon himself to radio the next safe house to inform them of their delay, a task usually left to Wonwoo.
But he understands. When Mingyu climbs over him, eyes bright and seeking, it is because a brush with death inevitably drives him to chase the one thing that keeps him alive. Wonwoo understands, because he is the same.
“I do tonight,” Mingyu murmurs, smiling warmly. “Lie down?”
“Eh. I’m okay.”
Mingyu levels him with a look that has never once worked to change Wonwoo’s mind. He sighs. “At least let me give you something for the pain.”
Wonwoo grins and slaps his ass lightly, jolting him forward. “Aren’t you about to?”
“Hyung.”
“That shit numbs me.”
“Yes, that’s the point.”
He shakes his head and draws Mingyu close, hands slipping underneath his thin cotton shirt. Ah. He always runs furnace-hot. Knowing he’ll soon be wrapped in Mingyu’s fire has Wonwoo’s cock stirring in arousal.
“Don’t want it.”
“Why not?”
“Because then I can’t feel you. I wanna feel you.” Unlike Mingyu, Wonwoo has ice in his veins. His cold fingers are unforgiving, greedy for the heat the skin underneath them emanates; Mingyu’s muscles tense when they circle his opening. Wonwoo places a bite over the hinge of his jaw, then adds, “Wanna fill you.”
Hips pitching forward, Mingyu leaves the argument behind to deliver his consent in the form of a messy exchange, one ending with bruised lips and overworked hearts. His hand combs through Wonwoo’s hair as he opens up to him, escalating pleasure evident from his increasingly broken moans.
“Faster,” he asks.
Begs, really.
Wonwoo ignores the burning in his shoulder and complies. Who’s the dog now? The blinding smile he gets as a reward is priceless. Mingyu is a sun. Wonwoo stares at him, forewarning and consequences be damned.
“You… you always get so deep when we do—fuck.”
“What? Don’t like it?”
“No.”
“You wanted this. Wanted me deep. Do you feel me in your lungs? Or your throat, maybe? Hm?”
“N-no.”
He gets a hand around Mingyu’s cock. “Liar.”
“Fuck.” His teeth dig into his lower lip, draining the blush contained within. Wonwoo tightens his fist and tugs. “Yes, yes. Yes. Just like that. Wonwoo-yah, harder, please—like it’s our last. Like the world ends tomorrow.”
Wonwoo clamps a hand over his mouth. Mingyu talks too much. Laughs and whines and moans, too. He makes all sorts of sounds to fill the overwhelming silence distinct to an apocalypse. If Wonwoo’s being honest, some of those sounds aren’t half bad. Hardly anyone believes in God these days, yet Wonwoo is worshipped every time Mingyu calls his name.
“The world already ended. And what did I say about ruining the mood?”
Mingyu licks his palm. Disgusting. Wonwoo uses the hand to stroke him properly. “You’re rock hard,” taunts Mingyu. “I’d say the mood is still very much alive. I know you.” He mouths at Wonwoo’s ear, then his bandaged shoulder, calloused hand rubbing against the coarse material of the gauze. Wonwoo sets his lips against Mingyu’s roaring pulse. “Feels that good inside me, huh? You close yet? You were close the moment the tip went in. Fool.”
He's right. Nurturing something worth losing in a world where loss is the norm is a fool’s decision.
Mingyu, though?
Mingyu makes choosing him so easy.
As he curls up against Wonwoo’s side, afterglow casts a golden sheen over Mingyu’s skin. Wonwoo should’ve stayed in school a while longer. Perhaps it would have given him the words to do Mingyu's beauty justice. Mingyu lifts his head from Wonwoo’s chest, chin propped on his palm.
“Shut up,” Wonwoo immediately says.
Mingyu laughs. “I haven’t said anything.”
“This right here…” he gestures vaguely to Mingyu’s face, “is saying a lot.”
“Your fault for knowing how to read me.” Smiling at Wonwoo, Mingyu’s features soften. The creases on his forehead disappear as his brows relax, his lips no longer pulled tight. He looks so boyish, so harmless, Wonwoo momentarily forgets his words can cut. The reminder is a dagger to his heart. “I love you.”
The ensuing silence is crystalline, still in the night. Handle it the wrong way and it will explode, sending a million tiny shards flying in all directions. Wonwoo thinks he is the same. All it takes is one single touch at the right place, and Mingyu is more than well-acquainted with every inch of his body.
“Can you not?”
Mingyu looks away. “It hurts when you don’t want to hear it.”
“Because you say one thing and mean another,” Wonwoo responds, jaw clenching involuntarily. “You’re telling me not to forget you when you’re gone.”
“Wonwoo-hyung.”
“Seriously,” Wonwoo warns. “Don’t.”
Undeterred, Mingyu marches on. “If we’re lucky, I might see this through with you. If we’re not, I don’t want you wishing you had accepted the words more often when I said them.”
Not wanting to hear another word of Mingyu’s nonsense, Wonwoo gets up. Mingyu seizes his elbow and pulls him down. Emotion builds up at the back of his throat. He wants to scream until his voice is as raw as the look Mingyu is giving him.
“With or without me, you need to get Vernon to the Lab.”
He breaks free from Mingyu’s hold and blocks his ears. His hands help, but not much. Mingyu’s muted voice slips through the barrier.
“He’s too important, okay? Too important to be given up.” Love recognises, that's what it does. There is no way to hide his intentions from Mingyu. Hands on either side of his face, Mingyu forces Wonwoo to look at him. “He can save them all. Everyone. So you can not give up. No matter what happens.” To me.
“I don’t give a shit about everyone, Mingyu.”
“Then do it for me. Do it because you love me.” Ask me anything else, Wonwoo silently pleads. Ask me anything else, but let me follow you wherever you go. Mingyu searches his eyes and smiles at whatever it is he discovers in them. He leans in, mouth moving against Wonwoo’s, a tentative dance. “When you’ve done what I asked—and not a second before—you come home to me. Walk through the door of our house and you’ll find meals from the old world on the table; they’ll become your favourites after the first bite. Seriously, when was the last time you had kalguksu? I promise to make you one. It’ll take me a few tries, and that’ll keep me busy until you arrive. You know, learning how to cook properly. Oh, and our beloved creatures. How can I forget about Nambi and Ddukkong? God. They’ll be so happy to see you.”
He has no idea when his hands have abandoned their futile protection of his ears and returned to their rightful place, wrapped around Mingyu’s middle, but Wonwoo never wants to let go.
“A place to love without hurt,” Mingyu adds softly, tucking a strand of Wonwoo’s unkempt hair behind his ear. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Wonwoo looks at him. How can such a powerful force be hosted in such a fragile shell, ready to be overtaken by another master at any time?
“I’m terrified.”
Mingyu hums, then rest his chin on Wonwoo’s uninjured shoulder. “When I joined the Fireflies, they told me you weren’t afraid of anything.”
“They were right.”
“I understand.” He pats Wonwoo’s back rhythmically. “It’s a long road to Incheon—“
“You think those Infecteds scare me?” Wonwoo interrupts, pulling back. “No, it’s you. You. Just the thought of leaving you behind, of you leaving me behind—it is fucking paralysing. Do you not understand who you are to me? What you do to me? Mingyu, if—”
He stops.
Love only has two endings. If Wonwoo were to experience one, the other would follow closely behind.
He stumbled upon the terminology in one of those yellow-paged medical textbooks. Broken heart syndrome. They said the condition is temporary, that the heart heals itself over time—but whoever wrote those pages hadn’t discovered Mingyu. Wonwoo did. There are some losses you never recover from.
“I’d rather be in the eternal doghouse with Ddukkong than spend a second in this wretched place without you.”
“Poor Ddukkong, forced to share his precious space with you,” Mingyu comments, tone taking a teasing dip. His lashes are wet. “Will you do as I ask, please?”
“Mingyu.”
“Please.”
"I—"
"Allow me this, hyung. Please."
“Okay,” Wonwoo eventually yields. Mingyu lets out a relieved sigh. “But I want something in return.”
His eyes sharpen, focus narrowed to Wonwoo. “There’s nothing of mine that isn’t already yours. There’s no part of me without your name on it.”
“You haven’t given me this yet.”
“I’m listening.”
“One more good day,” he requests, caressing the beauty mark on Mingyu’s cheek. Mingyu melts against him as though Wonwoo is the warm one. “I want one more good day with you.”
“I can do one more good day,” Mingyu answers, voice tender. “And after that?”
Wonwoo leans up to seal a promise against his lips: “I’ll ask again.”