Ship/Member: Mingyu/Jeonghan Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: succession-typical mindfuckery and language, sexual content Permission to remix: Yes
***
Jeonghan wishes he could eat his words. His hand hovers over Mingyu’s for a moment and he stares at their skin, both discolored and bruised by arbitrary shadows and low lights. “And you’re sure? About all this?”
Mingyu takes a healthy swig from his beer. He already came to the dive bar drunk off his ass and he’s still drinking. Poison on poison. “‘Course I am.” He pulls the baseball cap down lower on his head and he fixes beady eyes on Jeonghan. “I’m a big boy now. Of course I can handle some bullshit management training. I’ll fuckin’— I’ll fuckin’ murder it.”
Jeonghan takes a tiny sip of the White Russian in front of him. Mingyu had ordered for him earlier, perhaps some small gesture of gratitude. As if the things they do together could ever be just genial and nice and normal for once.
He winces as the sweetness and cream cloy his tongue. Jeonghan isn’t here to be seduced. He wants something else. Something less agreeable.
“No need to be so vulgar. Just— just do me a solid and don’t murder anyone,” Jeonghan chides, but he’s smiling halfheartedly. “Not sure if we can risk it after your buddy Jungkook’s latest stunt,” he mutters under his breath.
“Well, fuck you t—wait, what did you just say?”
“Oh.” Jeonghan laughs politely. “Nothing important. Just ignore me.”
Mingyu purses his mouth, displeased, but he just leans back in the seat. Drops it. He’s always been smarter than he looks and Jeonghan knows this to be truer than anything. Ever since Mingyu inherited the company and had to hand it over Eunwoo and Jaehyun because he couldn’t get his shit sorted out. Sure, people talk shit and insult him to his face but Jeonghan’s been on the frontlines. He knows Mingyu. He knows what it’s like to be taken for someone he isn’t and knows what approval can do to people like them.
“Fine,” Mingyu says. “I already asked Seokmin and I asked Seungkwan but I won’t ask you.”
“I would tell you, but— you know. In case it jeopardizes… things in the future.”
Jungkook is hanging on by a weak thread. He’s about to lose his spot on the board and if Mingyu finds out why he’ll go down with him too.
“In case it jeopardizes things in the future,” Mingyu parrots, rolling his eyes. Despite looking drunk and a little greasy, his symmetrical face glows. “If you keep giving me meaningless excuses, they’ll become platitudes,” he states matter-of-factly, shit-eating grin coaxes the sharp canines towards his lips. “Nothing more than horse shit coming out of your sweet little mouth. All of your quotables could be on the front of some cheap ass Hallmark greeting card.” He nods encouragingly. “How’s that for a fuckin’ knowledge bomb?”
Jeonghan scoffs. “That’s extremely sad to hear. I’ll try to think of something meaningful to tell you and Hallmark, then.”
Mingyu puts his bottle down on the sleek table. When he grins it blinds Jeonghan—it’s too much all at once. “Don’t ever say I never help you out, Jeonghannie,” he teases. “Jjongjongie.”
“Stop it,” Jeonghan groans, smacking his arm. “Don’t call me that shit.”
“Why not? I thought you liked nicknames. You always call Wonwoo Wonungie and Soonyoung Hoshingie.”
“Okay? We’re colleagues. Friends, even.”
“Okay. You used to call Seungcheol Dda—“
“Alright, that’s enough,” Jeonghan cuts in, pursing his lips tightly.
“You like nicknames,” Mingyu insists, deciding it for him. “How come I don’t get one?”
This motherfucker. “You have one, obviously,” Jeonghan admits. He should be drunk right now. Why isn’t he drunk?
Mingyu narrows his eyes. “You’re fucking me. You incorrigible, nepotist little serpent. Why are you fucking me?”
Everyone’s fucking over everyone in their line of work. Sometimes, Jeonghan feels a weird sense of loyalty to Mingyu. He’s never been the emotionally sensitive type, usually cleaning up corporate shitshows out of duty and maybe spite but otherwise playing both sides in the family feud like Italy. Jeonghan doesn’t mind being the self-serving bystander in the midst of all this. It’s a means of survival.
But looking after Mingyu feels scary and wrong, like standing on the roof of a building with no real intent to jump. And there’s the even scarier off-chance that part of it is instinctual. Have you ever wanted to care for somebody who’s perpetually at their fucking lowest? Maybe it’s not up to Jeonghan to decide for himself anymore.
Jeonghan shakes his head no. “I’m really not.”
“Oh.” Mingyu’s ears flush deep red. He nervously scratches the back of his head. “Could I maybe… could I maybe hear it?”
Jeonghan pauses dramatically. He makes a dumb face just to fuck with him. “I’m not sure, but…”
Mingyu leans in closer, taking the bait. “But?”
“That’s not what we’re here for,” Jeonghan hisses, lowering his voice into something breathier and feeling all the more sinister for it. He tucks some loose hair behind his ear and tilts his head at the bathroom door. “Is it?”
Mingyu stills with understanding. He nods and licks his lips, drawing back from the table.
“Right,” he says solemnly. “It isn’t.”
-
Jeonghan angrily wipes his hand on tissue paper once they hurry out of the handicapped stall, whirling around to face Mingyu in the mirror.
“The excitement outweighs the actual risk of us getting caught,” he recites mockingly back to Mingyu. “You overgrown asshole,” he hisses, fastidiously adjusting his shirt collar. “Why were you so fucking loud? Someone almost walked in on us!”
“That’s the exciting part!” Mingyu throws his hands out, exasperated. “That’s the whole fuckin’ point of fuckin’ doing this!”
“Holy shit,” Jeonghan whispers, rubbing his left temple. “What am I doing? What the hell am I doing with you?”
“Helping me fix my early-onset erectile dysfunction,” Mingyu grumbles, shutting the tap water off. He petulantly flicks the water from his hands and Jeonghan glares when the droplets land on him. “Did you want a fucking cookie?”
“I mean, I don’t know—your pathetic cock seemed to be functioning just fine when I was giving you the worst handie in your entire life.”
“Jeonghan.” Mingyu blinks a few times and breathes out his nose. “Enough with the insults.” He looks down sadly at his overpriced denim jeans, a warning tone in his voice. “I’m about to get hard again.”
Jeonghan heaves out a miserable, miserable sigh. He hopes he’s just imagining it but the joints in his hands are starting to ache. Fuck a handjob! Mingyu is literally giving him arthritis.
“Good God,” he mumbles. “Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”
-
Mingyu doesn’t always come, but he at least keeps Jeonghan satisfied.
He supposes he’ll make do with that alone.
-
“You should probably start seeing someone.”
They’re both fully clothed, laying on top of the duvet on Joshua’s luxuriously furnished guest room. Staring up at the stark white ceiling to avoid everything else.
Mingyu turns his head and glances at Jeonghan over his fake glasses. “Why’d you say that? I’m already seeing you.”
Jeonghan sighs. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Fine. What should I do, tell a fugly hack of a blue-check sex therapist that I get off to you degrading me? That’s probably vanilla to her.”
“No, I think you should tell her you want me to call you weird shit. Like… like a revolting… little… slime… puppy.” He watches Mingyu’s expression go dark. “You’re so sick.”
“That’s actually pretty good,” Mingyu says very quietly. He exhales, slow and measured like Jeonghan’s really giving him a thrill. “I’ve always wanted to be your puppy.”
“See?” Jeonghan’s arms drop onto the mattress in exasperation. “You clearly need professional help.”
“Aren’t you a professional?” Mingyu rolls over onto his stomach and grabs Jeonghan’s hand, slowly bringing it down to the cleft of his ass cheek. Jeonghan tells himself he’s letting it happen.
“Come fix me up,” Mingyu says, voice sultry. “Doc.”
He already looks breathless. Jeonghan’s knobbly fingers tighten grasp tight flesh. He imagines himself pulling on Mingyu's scalp by his soft hair and fucking him to death, watching his larger frame give out underneath him.
Oh, the debauchery.
“Fuck me ‘til I’m right again,” Mingyu murmurs. He lets out a broken laugh but recovers quickly. “Hm? Wouldn’t you like that for me? For us?”
He could say, There’s no us. Laugh it off and agree to tell him something nasty just to hold him over for the night.
He could say, There’s no us, because we’re barely even here, because we’ve gone extinguished and turned skeletal trying to force every whim and desire our way. He could tell him this is all just some sick, perverted dollhouse game of marriage and business and vitriol and they’re wasting their time hiding their silly little fling, trying to stay afloat.
Jeonghan won’t say anything, though. If Mingyu’s Player One, then he’ll be Player Two. Simple as that.
Jeonghan gets up and sits on his knees so he can grope Mingyu’s ass. He lightly touches the small of his back.
Listens to Mingyu choke out a pleased sigh. Sounds like no one’s touched him there in a long time. This could work.
Jeonghan doesn't know if he possesses the bandwidth to be whatever Mingyu keeps asking for, but how could that matter now that he’s got so much in his hands?
An excess of sheer power. A warm body next to his and the sweet taste of its greed. How could he ever deny it?
[FILL] in the midst of a red ocean
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: succession-typical mindfuckery and language, sexual content
Permission to remix: Yes
***
Jeonghan wishes he could eat his words. His hand hovers over Mingyu’s for a moment and he stares at their skin, both discolored and bruised by arbitrary shadows and low lights. “And you’re sure? About all this?”
Mingyu takes a healthy swig from his beer. He already came to the dive bar drunk off his ass and he’s still drinking. Poison on poison. “‘Course I am.” He pulls the baseball cap down lower on his head and he fixes beady eyes on Jeonghan. “I’m a big boy now. Of course I can handle some bullshit management training. I’ll fuckin’— I’ll fuckin’ murder it.”
Jeonghan takes a tiny sip of the White Russian in front of him. Mingyu had ordered for him earlier, perhaps some small gesture of gratitude. As if the things they do together could ever be just genial and nice and normal for once.
He winces as the sweetness and cream cloy his tongue. Jeonghan isn’t here to be seduced. He wants something else. Something less agreeable.
“No need to be so vulgar. Just— just do me a solid and don’t murder anyone,” Jeonghan chides, but he’s smiling halfheartedly. “Not sure if we can risk it after your buddy Jungkook’s latest stunt,” he mutters under his breath.
“Well, fuck you t—wait, what did you just say?”
“Oh.” Jeonghan laughs politely. “Nothing important. Just ignore me.”
Mingyu purses his mouth, displeased, but he just leans back in the seat. Drops it. He’s always been smarter than he looks and Jeonghan knows this to be truer than anything. Ever since Mingyu inherited the company and had to hand it over Eunwoo and Jaehyun because he couldn’t get his shit sorted out. Sure, people talk shit and insult him to his face but Jeonghan’s been on the frontlines. He knows Mingyu. He knows what it’s like to be taken for someone he isn’t and knows what approval can do to people like them.
“Fine,” Mingyu says. “I already asked Seokmin and I asked Seungkwan but I won’t ask you.”
“I would tell you, but— you know. In case it jeopardizes… things in the future.”
Jungkook is hanging on by a weak thread. He’s about to lose his spot on the board and if Mingyu finds out why he’ll go down with him too.
“In case it jeopardizes things in the future,” Mingyu parrots, rolling his eyes. Despite looking drunk and a little greasy, his symmetrical face glows. “If you keep giving me meaningless excuses, they’ll become platitudes,” he states matter-of-factly, shit-eating grin coaxes the sharp canines towards his lips. “Nothing more than horse shit coming out of your sweet little mouth. All of your quotables could be on the front of some cheap ass Hallmark greeting card.” He nods encouragingly. “How’s that for a fuckin’ knowledge bomb?”
Jeonghan scoffs. “That’s extremely sad to hear. I’ll try to think of something meaningful to tell you and Hallmark, then.”
Mingyu puts his bottle down on the sleek table. When he grins it blinds Jeonghan—it’s too much all at once. “Don’t ever say I never help you out, Jeonghannie,” he teases. “Jjongjongie.”
“Stop it,” Jeonghan groans, smacking his arm. “Don’t call me that shit.”
“Why not? I thought you liked nicknames. You always call Wonwoo Wonungie and Soonyoung Hoshingie.”
“Okay? We’re colleagues. Friends, even.”
“Okay. You used to call Seungcheol Dda—“
“Alright, that’s enough,” Jeonghan cuts in, pursing his lips tightly.
“You like nicknames,” Mingyu insists, deciding it for him. “How come I don’t get one?”
This motherfucker. “You have one, obviously,” Jeonghan admits. He should be drunk right now. Why isn’t he drunk?
Mingyu narrows his eyes. “You’re fucking me. You incorrigible, nepotist little serpent. Why are you fucking me?”
Everyone’s fucking over everyone in their line of work. Sometimes, Jeonghan feels a weird sense of loyalty to Mingyu. He’s never been the emotionally sensitive type, usually cleaning up corporate shitshows out of duty and maybe spite but otherwise playing both sides in the family feud like Italy. Jeonghan doesn’t mind being the self-serving bystander in the midst of all this. It’s a means of survival.
But looking after Mingyu feels scary and wrong, like standing on the roof of a building with no real intent to jump. And there’s the even scarier off-chance that part of it is instinctual. Have you ever wanted to care for somebody who’s perpetually at their fucking lowest? Maybe it’s not up to Jeonghan to decide for himself anymore.
Jeonghan shakes his head no. “I’m really not.”
“Oh.” Mingyu’s ears flush deep red. He nervously scratches the back of his head. “Could I maybe… could I maybe hear it?”
Jeonghan pauses dramatically. He makes a dumb face just to fuck with him. “I’m not sure, but…”
Mingyu leans in closer, taking the bait. “But?”
“That’s not what we’re here for,” Jeonghan hisses, lowering his voice into something breathier and feeling all the more sinister for it. He tucks some loose hair behind his ear and tilts his head at the bathroom door. “Is it?”
Mingyu stills with understanding. He nods and licks his lips, drawing back from the table.
“Right,” he says solemnly. “It isn’t.”
-
Jeonghan angrily wipes his hand on tissue paper once they hurry out of the handicapped stall, whirling around to face Mingyu in the mirror.
“The excitement outweighs the actual risk of us getting caught,” he recites mockingly back to Mingyu. “You overgrown asshole,” he hisses, fastidiously adjusting his shirt collar. “Why were you so fucking loud? Someone almost walked in on us!”
“That’s the exciting part!” Mingyu throws his hands out, exasperated. “That’s the whole fuckin’ point of fuckin’ doing this!”
“Holy shit,” Jeonghan whispers, rubbing his left temple. “What am I doing? What the hell am I doing with you?”
“Helping me fix my early-onset erectile dysfunction,” Mingyu grumbles, shutting the tap water off. He petulantly flicks the water from his hands and Jeonghan glares when the droplets land on him. “Did you want a fucking cookie?”
“I mean, I don’t know—your pathetic cock seemed to be functioning just fine when I was giving you the worst handie in your entire life.”
“Jeonghan.” Mingyu blinks a few times and breathes out his nose. “Enough with the insults.” He looks down sadly at his overpriced denim jeans, a warning tone in his voice. “I’m about to get hard again.”
Jeonghan heaves out a miserable, miserable sigh. He hopes he’s just imagining it but the joints in his hands are starting to ache. Fuck a handjob! Mingyu is literally giving him arthritis.
“Good God,” he mumbles. “Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”
-
Mingyu doesn’t always come, but he at least keeps Jeonghan satisfied.
He supposes he’ll make do with that alone.
-
“You should probably start seeing someone.”
They’re both fully clothed, laying on top of the duvet on Joshua’s luxuriously furnished guest room. Staring up at the stark white ceiling to avoid everything else.
Mingyu turns his head and glances at Jeonghan over his fake glasses. “Why’d you say that? I’m already seeing you.”
Jeonghan sighs. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Fine. What should I do, tell a fugly hack of a blue-check sex therapist that I get off to you degrading me? That’s probably vanilla to her.”
“No, I think you should tell her you want me to call you weird shit. Like… like a revolting… little… slime… puppy.” He watches Mingyu’s expression go dark. “You’re so sick.”
“That’s actually pretty good,” Mingyu says very quietly. He exhales, slow and measured like Jeonghan’s really giving him a thrill. “I’ve always wanted to be your puppy.”
“See?” Jeonghan’s arms drop onto the mattress in exasperation. “You clearly need professional help.”
“Aren’t you a professional?” Mingyu rolls over onto his stomach and grabs Jeonghan’s hand, slowly bringing it down to the cleft of his ass cheek. Jeonghan tells himself he’s letting it happen.
“Come fix me up,” Mingyu says, voice sultry. “Doc.”
He already looks breathless. Jeonghan’s knobbly fingers tighten grasp tight flesh. He imagines himself pulling on Mingyu's scalp by his soft hair and fucking him to death, watching his larger frame give out underneath him.
Oh, the debauchery.
“Fuck me ‘til I’m right again,” Mingyu murmurs. He lets out a broken laugh but recovers quickly. “Hm? Wouldn’t you like that for me? For us?”
He could say, There’s no us. Laugh it off and agree to tell him something nasty just to hold him over for the night.
He could say, There’s no us, because we’re barely even here, because we’ve gone extinguished and turned skeletal trying to force every whim and desire our way. He could tell him this is all just some sick, perverted dollhouse game of marriage and business and vitriol and they’re wasting their time hiding their silly little fling, trying to stay afloat.
Jeonghan won’t say anything, though. If Mingyu’s Player One, then he’ll be Player Two. Simple as that.
Jeonghan gets up and sits on his knees so he can grope Mingyu’s ass. He lightly touches the small of his back.
Listens to Mingyu choke out a pleased sigh. Sounds like no one’s touched him there in a long time. This could work.
Jeonghan doesn't know if he possesses the bandwidth to be whatever Mingyu keeps asking for, but how could that matter now that he’s got so much in his hands?
An excess of sheer power. A warm body next to his and the sweet taste of its greed. How could he ever deny it?