Work Text:
11.57 AM
The room was serene, once. Mingyu can imagine what it must have looked like when he was stood on the other side of the door, waiting for Wonwoo to fumble it open and let them in. Let them loose. Let them let go of the charade they were putting up for the hotel cameras and finally breathe each other in.
It’s not turned upside down now. Apart from a spread of clothes on the floor near the bed there's nothing that speaks of their presence in the room, but Mingyu's eyes can detect a change. A layer of them dusted upon every surface to give the room a bigger role in this episode of their lives. The support its walls gave when Mingyu's knees gave out and forced him to lean back under Wonwoo's touch when they got in last night was certainly award-worthy. He doesn't know what he would have done without that offer of stability, not with the way Wonwoo was looking at him as if Mingyu was all he’d ever wanted in life. As if it had pained him not to touch during the time it took them to get back to the room.
They stayed in this hotel the first time they were in Los Angeles as a group. Wonwoo was cooped up in a room with Minghao and Mingyu had one of his own; smaller, and messy with evidence of the takeout they’d all wolfed down in there while they’d watched the first movie they could find on the telly. When the other boys had left for their own beds there had been nothing but comfort settled in Mingyu’s chest - a sense of belonging since they were proving to be a unit no matter where they went in the world. His fascination with his boys had run off slightly at that point. The sparkling fondness had faded to a strong sense of devotion, and by then he only really went breathless when Wonwoo was breathing down his neck during interviews, pressed close to fit them all on a couch.
Breathing feels overrated these days. He learned how to live life on shallow inhales and stolen gasps, and found a way to steal some back in the mornings, early, when Wonwoo was too lost in sleep to charm him into oblivion just yet. And that’s what he does, now, even though the morning has passed. He brushes sleep out of his eyes and hair away from Wonwoo’s shoulder, watching the tremble of his hand as he runs it over Wonwoo’s skin.
He leans in slowly, careful not to put all of his weight on top of Wonwoo as he presses a kiss to the back of his neck, and hears Wonwoo hum under his touch. He can picture the smile Wonwoo must hide in his pillow. Can feel a growing ball of happiness in his chest, spreading through his body and stretching his skin the longer he feels Wonwoo stir under his palm.
Then Wonwoo’s hum ebbs out in a raspy greeting of, “Morning.”
It’s enough to make Mingyu’s stomach swoop, sending waves of fondness crashing against the inside of his skin as he pushes his hand down over Wonwoo’s shoulder blade, across his back until he can fit it against Wonwoo’s hip and pull him close.
“It’s almost noon,” he informs quietly, because there’s no need to be loud. Nothing to overpower when all of his words are pressed right against Wonwoo’s neck, settling into Wonwoo’s hair.
He can feel the vibration of Wonwoo’s snort against his chest and instinctively pulls Wonwoo even closer; secures his forearm over Wonwoo’s stomach and tugs until there’s no telling where his chest ends and Wonwoo’s back begins.
“It's your fault that I'm tired like this.” Wonwoo murmurs, arguing for the sake of it, pressing back against Mingyu’s crotch just to make a point. “Think I stretched every muscle in my body when I wrapped it around you last night.”
He can’t help but press his fingers into Wonwoo’s skin again. Firmer, now, scrambling greedily over the smooth expanse of Wonwoo’s stomach and chest until Wonwoo traps the hand over his nipple and hums, “Think you stretched this one beyond recognition long before last night, though.”
Mingyu whines softly, in great contrast to the dull thump of Wonwoo’s heartbeat under his fingertips, and he wishes he could have groaned instead. That he could have teased Wonwoo about how sappy that was and not just lie there, brushing circles into Wonwoo’s flesh, thinking mine mine mine. You’re mine, now.
Wonwoo must sense the urgency in his touch, because his grip on Mingyu’s hand tightens, and soon he’s turning his head the best he can to blink owlishly over his shoulder, giving away a desperation Mingyu can do nothing with but return in full force. He rolls his hips against Wonwoo’s arse and groans against his lips before he kisses him properly - gives Wonwoo the wakeup call he deserves while his hand starts to tremble again.
He fits one ankle between Wonwoo’s and pulls his hand away to press the trembles to Wonwoo’s chin instead, keeping him close as he licks at the seam of Wonwoo’s lips. There’s whimpers erupting from the back of Wonwoo’s throat that land softly on Mingyu’s tongue, sweet and familiar as he swallows them down, and he’s still so hungry for it. Still low on the taste of this boy even though he’s been fed with it for so long. Every graze of Wonwoo’s teeth on his lips scrapes up the memories of what they did last night, and Mingyu wants to dig it all up. Wants to do it all over, with Wonwoo’s restless noises ringing in his ears for years to come.
Wonwoo’s hips are showing the same sense of restlessness - that same desperation that his eyes conveyed before Mingyu lost touch with his vision. His cock is cradled nicely between Wonwoo’s cheeks, throbbing at every slide of skin against skin as Wonwoo pushes back, and he feels young, suddenly. Feels inexperienced and ready to explode in a way he hasn’t since he was sixteen, because they’re turning a new page, now, and they’re doing the same old things with a new feeling rumbling in their chests, and Mingyu’s so in love. So hung up on Wonwoo that he wonders if he’ll ever reach the limit, or if he’ll simply thrum with the need to burst for the rest of his life.
Wonwoo stops kissing back at some point; goes from breathing heavily into Mingyu’s mouth to tilting his head down against the pillow again, baring his throat for Mingyu to lick along as he slips a hand around his own body, patting uselessly along Mingyu’s hip.
When he finally gets a hand around Mingyu’s dick he presses a satisfied noise into the mattress, already incoherent and gasping for air to let Mingyu know just how far his touches can get them. His fingers are loose around Mingyu’s length, gentle in a way that would feel loving if Mingyu wasn’t so into this - so hungry for more that the smell of Wonwoo’s sweat is making his chest ache.
He pushes himself through the haze, through the spiking sensation of want that’s shooting up and down his spine when Wonwoo tries to guide the head of Mingyu’s cock to his rim, and huffs, “We were- Fuck. We were gonna switch, Wonwoo.”
“Later,” Wonwoo chokes out, ignoring Mingyu’s hesitation, trying so desperately to get what he wants even though Mingyu has paused his actions. “There’s time. I just- Please. I want you. Won’t need any prep.”
The promise of later is all Mingyu needs - enough to erase the fragment of doubt that was clouding his mind and make him slip his hand between their bodies. He pushes Wonwoo’s out of the way, gentle as he slides the tip of a finger between Wonwoo’s cheeks and past the ring of muscle, already aware that it should be okay. That it’s been less than six hours since he slipped out of Wonwoo, and that there’s evidence of it coating his fingers as he scissors two of them for a while, just long enough to make Wonwoo moan his name repeatedly.
“Okay, love, it’s okay” he hushes, pressing sounds and breaths against Wonwoo’s ear as he pushes them both forward. He gets Wonwoo flat on his stomach and leans over him to grab the lube from the side table, still wary. Still determined to take care of him.
When he’s satisfied, sure that he won’t cause any pain, he hoists Wonwoo’s hips up enough to get him on his knees, forearms still sunken into the mattress to serve as a new pillow for his head as Mingyu finally pushes in.
It never gets old. It doesn’t even get familiar, the way his mind goes blank every time his hips brush up against Wonwoo’s skin, scorching during the moments he spends there, buried in heat and breathless with anticipation. He’s been here so many times before, mouthing along Wonwoo’s spine, savouring the shallow sounds of Wonwoo’s breathing as he has waited for an okay, but it’s still new. Still feels like a blessing to be the one who’s pushing and prodding at Wonwoo’s emotions, making him go so pliant by touches alone.
He’s no stranger to the choked command of move, move, move, though, or the way Wonwoo whimpers as soon as his wish is fulfilled. It’s not unfamiliar when Wonwoo rocks back to meet his thrusts, or when he moans as Mingyu picks up the speed. It’s the sweetest part of all of it, knowing exactly what makes Wonwoo feel good and being able to give it all to him; to press kisses to Wonwoo’s shoulder blade and feel the way his torso moves with the effort to bite back another whimper. To press his hips against Wonwoo’s arse and stay still long enough that Wonwoo’s body goes lax underneath him, melting into the mattress where he can grind his hips against the sheet.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Mingyu praises, pushing his voice over the melody of Wonwoo’s grunts as he fucks into him with renewed force, almost too desperate to keep himself up above Wonwoo’s form. “Want you to feel so good.”
He doesn’t get much of a response, but the moans are enough - shrill as they ring through the room, edged with the kind of pleasure Mingyu thrives to hear that he’s causing. He could come from the sound of it alone, wrapped up in Wonwoo’s heat with the desire burning him up from the inside. But it wouldn’t beat this. Wouldn’t beat the shift of the mattress or the slaps of their skin, or the whimper that falls sharply from Wonwoo’s lips as he’s pushed over the edge, echoing in Mingyu’s mind as Wonwoo clenches around him.
He slows down a little; drags it out just to have something to play over and over again in his mind, later. There are red marks where his fingers have dug into Wonwoo’s sides, and wrinkles in the sheet where Wonwoo has grasped it so hard that it should have ripped, but all that’s ripping apart is the stream of moans that Wonwoo is still emitting - cracked as it pushes through the room every time Mingyu slams into him. And even that sounds beautiful. Melodic, as if everything he does comes with a musicality that is unheard of. Mingyu breaks it with a grunt of Wonwoo’s name, drawn out in a rough voice that he covers up with kisses all over Wonwoo’s back as he comes, brimming with affection for everything he’s touching. Then he crashes on top of Wonwoo, just to touch him some more.
“Mm,” is all Wonwoo gets out, a bit strained by Mingyu’s weight on top of him, a bit weak due to a lack of breath. “We’re doing this again. Forever.”
Mingyu digs his teeth into Wonwoo’s flesh, biting down gently as a warning before he replies. “Not today, though.”
“Not today,” Wonwoo agrees, shaking a bit with a silent laughter even though Mingyu’s pressing his lungs into the mattress. “All the other days. So many times.”
It takes a moment for Mingyu to collect himself. His breathing never recovers in Wonwoo’s presence, so the sultry air doesn’t bother him, but his muscles complain when he tries to roll over, and his heart aches a little at the sight of Wonwoo’s face when he finally lies flat on the bed again, face to face with what is his.
Wonwoo is smiling; his bottom lip bitten enticingly red and moist from the profanities that have slipped off of it. His hair’s as wild as it gets, hanging softly over the bridge of his nose, and he’s dangerous to look at. A sharp punch to Mingyu’s stomach, and the realest thing he’s ever been near. Mingyu kisses him just to make sure that it’s not a dream, and feels his chest constrict a bit when Wonwoo grins against his lips, mirroring affection and happiness as he presses closer.
1.27 PM
Wonwoo’s tongue is coated with orange juice. It’s sharp as Mingyu licks it up, though Wonwoo knows how to work his lips against Mingyu’s in order to make it soften. He’s persistent, constantly pushing Mingyu back whenever he tries to take control, simply pressing his chest down against Mingyu’s to keep him pinned to the headboard. It’s all Mingyu can do to squeeze Wonwoo’s hips with his knees, but it doesn’t do much good. Only drags the softest of noises out of Wonwoo, that in turn make Mingyu’s jaw fall open even wider. It’s not a terrible loss.
“If we were in a soap opera one of us would be bound to get run over by a car and end up in a coma to ruin our bliss,” Wonwoo mumbles, backing up an inch only to move his lips to Mingyu’s chin, pressing a soft kiss there before he’s scooting down along Mingyu’s body. He settles in with his head perched on Mingyu’s chest, blinking up slowly with his hair tickling Mingyu’s skin, and it’s another kind of danger. A devious one, full of sugar that is out to tear Mingyu’s veins apart. It’s too sweet.
“Is that what you’re doing now, watching soaps?” Mingyu huffs, full of disbelief. He reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind Wonwoo’s ear, but ends up cupping it with his hand when he’s done, enjoying the way Wonwoo leans into the touch.
“Might have seen something.” Wonwoo shrugs, staring at Mingyu’s throat as he speaks. “Just wanted a distraction, really. Couldn’t wait to end the promotion time to actually spend some real time with you.”
Mingyu hums sympathetically, scratching his fingers against Wonwoo’s scalp. “I felt the same way.”
Wonwoo smiles softly before he ducks his head out of Mingyu’s touch, leaning in to press his mouth to the centre of Mingyu’s chest. It’s wet and warm, ebbing out like waves to wake an entire sea up as the feeling spreads through Mingyu’s body, and he sighs out softly, overflowing with everything he feels for Wonwoo. Everything he’s pent up for so long, and savoured even when he found himself in the position to let it crash over them both. He doesn’t want to stop feeling, just want to keep building towers and call them home.
“I love you,” he murmurs, fighting back tears and smiling through it all, thinking of the duality of a rainbow and hoping he looks half as pretty as one.
He feels Wonwoo’s breath over his skin; a hot, unyielding proof of his presence before he’s looking up, meeting Mingyu’s gaze with something so earnest that Mingyu loses what little breath he’s got left. His smile is huge, stretching on forever in the lines around his eyes, and suddenly he’s not dangerous at all. He’s too devoted for that - too attached to ever break away from Mingyu as he hums back and says, “And I love you. So much.”
Mingyu’s hands find a home at the back of Wonwoo’s neck, and he spends a minute twining his hair around his fingers, gently enough that the tips of his digits won’t go blue. Wonwoo’s hair is soft and pretty despite the fact that it needs a wash, but it’s not beautiful, there, twisted around Mingyu’s fingers. Not compared to what’s already there.
“Where do we keep the rings, then?” he asks, just above a whisper as he lets a curl unwind from his thumb. “Can’t wear them when we leave, we’d make headlines within five minutes.”
Wonwoo presses a cheek to Mingyu’s chest, bringing his left hand up to rest in front of his face as he inspects the silver band. It looks good there, among the rest of the rings that adorn his fingers. Looks right.
“What do they say about hiding things in plain sight again?” Wonwoo drifts off, though he’s grinning when he says it, letting Mingyu know that he’s joking.
“A ring on your fourth finger would cause a fuckin’ uproar,” Mingyu chuckles. “They’d have my head on a pole by midnight if they found out that I’m the one who’s stolen you.”
Wonwoo presses another smile to his skin. “They’ll fall out of our pockets.”
“And I rarely carry a wallet,” Mingyu chimes in, smoothing his hand down along Wonwoo’s arm, stopping halfway to simply hold him in place. “Necklaces, maybe? We can hide them under our shirts.”
Wonwoo hums, seemingly satisfied. Mingyu watches the slow brush of his eyelashes over his cheekbones every time he blinks and wishes that they had time to stay like this for a while; to take a nap, and just hide. There are lines on Wonwoo’s face that he’d be happy to trace until he fell asleep, and he wouldn’t hesitate to pick up where he left off when he woke up again, but he refuses to do it. Won’t waste their time sleeping when it’s so precious to them.
He cradles Wonwoo’s body by the bracket of his legs, swaying him back and forth until it earns him a soft chuckle, and then he loses all coordination again. Forgets how to work his limbs and watches how his legs fall to the mattress as Wonwoo sucks a bruise above his left nipple. Then another one above his navel, and a third above the waistband of his pants, right where Wonwoo’s fingers are wandering aimlessly, teasing Mingyu for his decision to pull them on in the first place. He should have never order room service. Should have taken what he wanted from the crevices of Wonwoo’s body instead, greedy as he were. As he still is.
Wonwoo’s slipping away, though, getting up on his knees and shuffling back with a mutter of a shower that Mingyu wants to curse, though it’s hard to find profanities in a mind that’s fed with the sight of Wonwoo in all his glory, lean and muscular and half hard from simply having his lips on Mingyu’s body.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo says, all soft around the edges as he smiles down at the bed, responding to something Mingyu didn’t mean to say out loud with a quiet, “Yours.”
Mingyu chases after him; gets caught in the sheets and finds all the curse words he’s ever known as he kicks himself free, supporting himself against the open door of the bathroom as he says, “My husband.”
Wonwoo’s reflection in the wide mirror is grinning back at him, and he looks like a work of art with the way his wild hair and sharp lines are framed on the wall. Looks beautiful as he scratches his stomach and shakes his head at Mingyu’s goofy expression. It’s all Mingyu’s ever wanted, and it’s the only thing he’ll ever need as he surges forward to wrap his arms around Wonwoo’s waist, pressing a new kiss over the one he left at the back of Wonwoo’s neck earlier.
“Again?” Wonwoo murmurs, turning his head to kiss Mingyu over his shoulder like they’ve done so many times before, laughing against the corner of Mingyu’s mouth at the eager nod he gets in response.
Mingyu fits his hands over Wonwoo’s hips and pulls him back out to the bed, crashing down on it with Wonwoo right on top, covering his body. “No teasing. You can do that for the rest of our lives, just not today.”
Wonwoo’s breath hitches in response; his pupils going wide at the very mention of forever, and Mingyu clings to it. Fights the blur that is threatening to take over his mind as Wonwoo palms him through his pants and says, “Gonna be doing this forever, you and I. Won’t ever let you go.”
“Never,” Wonwoo mutters back, fighting to get Mingyu naked, then kissing the head of his cock once he’s succeeded. It’s almost too much already, with the things they’ve been up to since Wonwoo came to him straight from the airport last night. So many emotions mixed with touches roaming in Mingyu’s body that he feels too sensitive in the face of it all, but he’s not about to say no. Not to what is his.
His cock is left untouched after that, curving up painfully towards his belly while Wonwoo’s slicked up fingers work him open, and he’s sure his scalp will be bruised by nightfall, abused by his hands as he pulls on his hair and presses his knuckles against his own head just to keep himself from touching.
Wonwoo eyes Mingyu from top to dick when he slips his finger out, attentive to the rise and fall of Mingyu’s chest and the twitch of his cock when he finally coats his own length with lube. He’s sloppy with it, working his hand over himself quickly as he finally locks his gaze with Mingyu’s again. “I can’t believe I get to be yours. That I- That I can have you, now, always.”
“Can’t believe you’re trying to get me to come untouched,” Mingyu counters, almost bitter because of how desperate he is for Wonwoo’s cock. “I love you, but come on .”
He blossoms with pride as Wonwoo laughs through his desire, though the chuckle is cut short when Wonwoo settles in over him, lifting Mingyu’s thigh to line himself up. He pushes in slowly, clenching his eyes shut against the pleasure while Mingyu anchors himself in the lines of Wonwoo’s face, determined to watch it all - to commit every frame of this to memory.
His breathing is harsh and the burn is relentless, but Wonwoo is leaning in close, just like he always does, gasping over Mingyu’s mouth as he mutters soothing words that stick to Mingyu’s skin.
Mingyu waits for him to open his eyes again. Waits until concerned green is locked with trusting blue and presses his mouth against Wonwoo’s as he says, “You do have me, now. Always had.”
Then Wonwoo’s kissing him through the fading burn, pulling out to push back in just as gently. It’s slick, and Wonwoo feels bigger than he can remember, and the second he finds the right angle he’s making Mingyu’s mind go blank again, stealing his vision for a brief moment before Mingyu can tune back in to his expression again. And he looks so fucking pretty, straining where he’s working himself in and out of Mingyu, pressing his fingers into Mingyu’s thigh to keep him there, in the moment. Mingyu runs his own fingers through Wonwoo’s hair just to make sure of him again; to keep him close, and to feel his breath beat against his own face.
“We’ll be doing this forever,” Wonwoo reminds him, falling forward, catching himself with a hand next to Mingyu’s head. “Over and over.”
Mingyu hooks his leg around Wonwoo’s body, digging his heel into the crevice of Wonwoo’s thigh as his stomach tenses up familiarly. He can’t think of the sex they’ll have in the future - can barely wrap his head around the things Wonwoo’s doing to him now. He’s murmuring promises into Mingyu’s ear as if he weren’t falling apart on these sheets a mere hour ago, and Mingyu’s gasping his name again, holding on to it as he comes all over his own stomach, with his hands still buried in Wonwoo’s hair.
He knows what Wonwoo’s moans mean even though he feels like he’s about to pass out - can tell by the high pitch of them and the erratic movements of Wonwoo’s hips that he’s a few thrusts away from coming, too, and he wants it. Wants to see the way Wonwoo’s bottom lip slips out from between his teeth when he comes. Wants it so badly that he moves back on Wonwoo’s cock again, letting the grunts spill from his mouth while he keeps tugging at Wonwoo’s hair.
“Come one, love,” he breathes out, “come for me.”
And that does it. Wonwoo trembles above him, spilling into Mingyu in long spurts while Mingyu just cards his fingers through his hair, and he can’t remember a time when sex has felt so intimate before. Can’t remember that he and Wonwoo ever have gotten so sentimental in a bed, upon dirty sheets, but he can’t remember the weight of a ring around his finger, either. Can’t remember that kind of bond, or anything else that has affected him so thoroughly in the past. Now there’s just this. Them, forever.
2.39 PM
It doesn’t count as washing Wonwoo off of his skin if Wonwoo’s the one to do it. He convinces himself this as he looks down; settles his hand in Wonwoo’s hair once again, pressing his fingertips against the scalp.
He gets impatient eventually - only lets Wonwoo wash the come from his thighs before he’s pulling his boy up again, swallowing down Wonwoo’s noise of surprise as he fits their mouths together. It’s another brand of desperation, this, when the time is running out because they know they have a group to come back to, and fans, and schedules. The touches he’s stolen don’t count for much when he’s so aware of how long it will take before he’ll be within reach again, and Wonwoo seems to get it. He’s fitting his hands at the small of Mingyu’s back, pulling him close under the spray of water. It’s all wet; their bodies, Wonwoo’s mouth, the sting of the tears Mingyu refuses to shed, because it’s just a brief goodbye. A ‘see you later’ to something that is branded his, now.
They kiss until Mingyu’s phone is ringing incessantly on the nightstand, then some more as they dry themselves off. Wonwoo’s there when Mingyu is covering his lovebites up with clothing, constantly finding some way to keep them touching until Mingyu finds himself by the door, sticking his feet into his shoes under the attention of Wonwoo’s unreadable gaze.
“You’ll stay safe, yeah?” Wonwoo murmurs, reaching out a final time, connecting them once again. “No coma.”
Mingyu flashes him a soft grin; pushes his fingers between Wonwoo’s and squeezes his hand. “No coma.”
“No falling from the sky, either,” Wonwoo adds.
“Me and the boys will be waiting for you. Call me when you land.”
“Of course,” Mingyu whispers, tugging Wonwoo closer with ease. He brushes his free hand along Wonwoo’s side, still bare after their shower, and smiles sadly at the trail of goosebumps that spread from his fingers. “We we'll be apart just for a few hours. I can handle it.”
“Are you sure you can?”
Silence. A long moment of it, followed by the rush of air that Wonwoo presses against Mingyu’s upper lip. Mingyu smiles before he speaks - aims it so steadily that Wonwoo loses his breath. Just like he always does. Over and over. Forever.
“We’re fucking husbands now, Wonwoo, so I'm sure I can.”