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Seonghwa had clearly seen the nerves on Mingi's face the moment he had made his proposal for their unit stage. He had laughed and attempted to sooth them away with promises that he would take responsibility for the guaranteed shock of the fans, completely oblivious to the real worries swimming around frantically in Mingi's brain. About how easy it is to fall into the illusion of Seonghwa's stage presence, and how foolishly bold Mingi gets when he performs. It's a dangerous combination. Logically, he knows this is a terrible idea.
"Sure, hyung," is what comes out of his big, dumb mouth instead of any of his many valid concerns. "Whatever you think will be best."
He had admittedly imagined that Seonghwa would assign himself the part of Hyuna, both with his natural androgyny and his propensity to blur the lines of gender norms. He would be well suited to it, Mingi thinks. He's capable of performing with a beautiful feminine delicacy that tends to leave Mingi's stomach twisting in confused horny knots. When he had decisively told Mingi he'd imagined him performing the female part, and asked with those big, gorgeous, pleading eyes for him to go along with that vision, well. Mingi is a very weak man. It hadn't taken much convincing.
Learning the choreography hadn't been so bad. It's nearly impossible to fully commit to the chemistry and facial expressions when you're still awkwardly learning the motions, so Mingi is safe for a couple of days. Unfortunately and predictably, it can't last for long.
Once they have the choreo down, Mingi finds himself back in dangerous waters. Moves that were once mechanical have become fluid and sensual, and Seonghwa keeps putting his hands on Mingi. They keep making eye contact, and Seonghwa is practicing his smouldering looks and his smirks and his coy smiles, and it's near unbearable almost immediately. Even worse, Mingi is supposed to keep putting his hands all over Seonghwa, and that's just a recipe for disaster.
It's a matter of when Mingi is going to humiliate himself, not whether he will, and he can just close his eyes and pray it's in the privacy of their practice room and not on stage in front of their fans.
Sometimes Mingi forgets that he's just fated for constant public humiliation. He probably blocks that fact out of his mind in some sort of ill-advised self preservation, but it always rings true. It's like a talent or a curse or something.
Somehow he makes it through all of their private practice sessions unscathed, in spite of some very near misses where they'd forgotten to account for the space between their faces that their headsets would create. They'd almost ended up accidentally connected at the mouth at least five terrifying times.
Mingi knew he wasn't capable of not capitalizing on such an accident, knew himself well enough to know he'd have to be physically shoved away from Seonghwa to not try his luck at devouring him, but he's not entirely sure if Seonghwa would have reacted quite so enthusiastically.
Mingi may be an open book when it comes to his attraction to Seonghwa, but Seonghwa was more practiced in the act of subtlety. He thinks the attraction is mutual, but it's hard to know for sure when he isn't just trailing after Mingi with a look of horny desperation the way Mingi does him.
He even somehow makes it through one night of the fanmeet without incident. He throws himself fully into the performance, and even has the confident hubris to truly try to fluster Seonghwa. It even works a few times, and Mingi is foolishly proud of himself for it.
Other than that one beautiful victorious moment, Seonghwa gives just as good as he gets. Their push and pull is hypnotic even to Mingi, exchanging looks and touches as if they were really just two strangers in a club, flirting through their dance.
Courting one another.
Mingi thinks distantly that the thought isn't exactly wrong. The moves may be choreographed, but the chemistry isn't. That look in Seonghwa's eyes after Mingi succeeds in flustering him certainly isn't. Neither is that swooping feeling in Mingi's stomach. If the touches that follow feel more firm and purposeful, Mingi will just have to convince himself he's imagining things when he's lying in bed awake later that night.
To Mingi's simultaneous and contradictory excitement and horror, something shifts between them on the second night.
The nerves from performing something new and unexpected, and how their fans will react, have completely dissipated. Mingi has seen all of the reactions online, and he's certain Seonghwa has searched through them all with a fine-toothed comb to try to find ways to improve in their performance, ways to weaponize the fan reactions and opinions. It's one of the things that makes Seonghwa such a terrifying performer, and Mingi has a deep respect that borders on a healthy and horny fear for that fact about him.
It's obvious right away that Seonghwa is feeling himself even more than last night. It's an unfairly attractive look on him, one that Mingi has always been particularly weak for. From the very beginning, every touch seems to light Mingi's skin aflame, every sense heightened and fully focused on Seonghwa. It's a dangerous playing field, but Mingi is helpless to it from the start.
Even with Seonghwa's natural delicacy in every movement, Mingi feels everything so intensely that he has no doubt he's hurtling toward trouble. His fingers tracing down the arch of Mingi's back feel like claws, his grip on Mingi's chin like a vice. If Mingi stubbornly walks his fingertips a little more purposefully up Seonghwa's chest, if he lets his lazy gaze slip to his lips before flicking back up to meet his eyes, no one will know outside of the two of them.
Unfortunately, it's a clear act of war as far as Seonghwa must be concerned, because apparently he's not planning on allowing Mingi to steal an advantage tonight.
The moment Seonghwa's hand unexpectedly grabs a handful of Mingi's ass, he knows that he's done for. The playful smile he'd been wearing falls away immediately. He knows he's not imagining just how possessive his hold feels, and unfortunately his body knows it, too. It takes every ounce of professional performer in him not to startle in any sort of obvious way, to keep the motion of his hips fluid instead of jerky and visibly affected.
There's no mistaking the move for what it is: revenge. It's effective, too. Mingi's whole brain seems to short-circuit at the unexpected change to their choreo that had been so carefully practiced to not include the ass-grabbing of the original choreo. His brain gets distantly held up on whether Seonghwa likes what he's feeling, whether feeling Mingi's infamous hip movements beneath his fingertips are driving him even half as mad as Mingi currently feels.
There's no world in which Seonghwa doesn't know what he does to Mingi, is there? One of his distractingly elegant fingers curls just enough to dip into the crease of Mingi's ass cheeks, and that can't be unintentional, can it?
The moment he breaks away only to pull Seonghwa up against his body, he knows that he's doomed. By the faint huff of laughter he hears in his ear as their bodies come together, he's certain that Seonghwa knows it just as well.
When Mingi does his verse, he can feel Seonghwa's eyes on him like a physical touch. It's incredibly distracting, getting everything he's ever wanted in the most inconvenient moment possible. Their choreo hasn't changed, but he's so much more aware of the scent of Seonghwa's sweat and the heat of his body every time they touch. He can feel himself already starting to get a little bit hard just from the knowledge that he's affected Seonghwa somehow, and he's drunk off of the attention he's getting from him.
He feels sexy and powerful, practically invincible. It's a perfect storm, a recipe for disaster.
He knows that Seonghwa knows he's turned on, dancing so close to one another that they're practically grinding on each other. He knows he can feel his arousal against him every single time they touch. It's intoxicating as dangerous as this whole game is, but Mingi can't seem to stop himself.
Mingi can only fruitlessly try to adjust his pants before the final pose, hoping against hope that most of the pictures that surface will be of their ending frame instead of the many, many incriminating moments that came before it. Maybe it's not as obvious as he thinks, but he doesn't hold out too much hope. He knows it's extremely unlikely, considering his size and the material of his pants. There's probably not much left to the imagination, knowing Mingi's luck.
He's a little embarrassed to admit he's relieved to hear the cheers at the end, his brain supplying him with endless unwarranted worries that the audience would somehow be upset by his transparent desire for his bandmate. He pointedly does not think too hard about the fact that they actually seem more ramped up than last night. If anything, they probably just had enough advanced notice to not just react with stunned and silent awe on night two.
Getting backstage is a blur of adrenaline and unfiltered want. He doesn't even know how he ended up here, whether it was Seonghwa or Mingi that initiated it, but it doesn't even matter. Seonghwa's back is to the wall, Mingi's fingers clutching desperately at the material of his lapels as he crowds into Seonghwa's space. He's exactly where he wants to be, ill-advised as it may be so close to the stage, out in the open for any member of their crew or team to find them. Their headsets lie forgotten, discarded on the floor by their feet.
"Do you have no shame?" His voice is low and almost predatory, and Mingi needs him so badly it hurts.
"I have shame," Mingi breathes desperately, his hips rutting forward fruitlessly, Seonghwa's body just far enough out of reach to avoid him. "So much of it."
"Could have fooled me," Seonghwa says, and it's far from unaffected. They're so close that it almost hurts to try to follow Seonghwa's gaze to the very unsubtle bulge in his pants, but he does his best anyway. He raises an eyebrow pointedly at what he finds, which can only be about twice as incriminating as what he might have found if he'd looked this closely on stage.
Mingi might actually come in his pants at this rate.
"Sorry, I just," Mingi starts, feeling breathless already. He's fighting a losing battle, his cock straining against the zipper of his pants. His libido is a massive handicap against a Seonghwa who is at least mostly confident. It's actually unfair, how big of a disadvantage Mingi is probably dealing with. He presses his eyes closed in a doomed attempt to recenter himself. "I liked the way you played with me on stage."
"I know," Seonghwa rasps, voice tight. "Atiny would have had to be blind, to miss how much you liked it."
"It's- it's your fault, hyung. How am I supposed to act normal, when you're touching me like that?" Mingi's hands wander without his conscious permission, and it's dangerous, the way he instinctively pulls him even closer.
"What, like this?" Seonghwa's hand trails dangerously lower, grazing the sensitive skin of Mingi's stomach before he's touching Mingi's upper thigh. Mingi's pretty sure he's seconds away from a nosebleed or something equally humiliating, but he powers through in favor of finding out what Seonghwa plans to do next.
He regrets that decision near immediately, when Seonghwa's lithe fingers wrap around the leather strap of Mingi's garter. Fuck. This is a disadvantage Mingi hadn't even realized he'd had.
"Didn't hyung say he'd take responsibility?" His voice is heavier than Mingi's ever heard it before, and his stupid cock jumps in anticipation.
He doesn't even hesitate to pull Mingi in, closing the distance between them. Mingi stumbles forward, landing less than gracefully with his legs straddling one of Seonghwa's. He doesn't let him stop there, using his grip on Mingi's garter to pull him closer, and Mingi can't help but let out a moan at the friction between his throbbing cock and Seonghwa's muscled thigh.
"God, you're so sexy," Seonghwa complains, surging ever closer to Mingi's waiting mouth.
Mingi doesn't think anything of closing the gap between them, desperate to taste Seonghwa's lips. He's snapped back to reality by the sensation of Seonghwa's fingers once again locked on his jaw. "No kissing. People are bound to have noticed how worked up you were on stage just now. What do you imagine they'll think, if we both show up with swollen lips after all of that?"
He's right, and Mingi hates that he knows it. It doesn't change how fiercely he wants, though, a high and needy whine escaping his throat almost without his notice. He wants to risk it anyway, wants to face the consequences if and when they come, but Seonghwa's grip holds firm when he tests the waters and tries to get closer. Mingi's hips stutter forward reflexively at the show of control, and Seonghwa gracefully allows Mingi to press a groan to the fabric covering his chest.
Mingi can't help himself, always so eager to press his luck when he's granted even a modicum of freedom. He bites down over Seonghwa's chest through the fabric of his jacket, hard enough that he knows it will leave a mark on the skin beneath. It's probably a safe spot, Mingi thinks distantly. He finds he's a little bit excited at the idea that it might not be.
"Aish, you brat," he gasps, his fingers tangling roughly into Mingi's hair and giving a sharp pull.
"You like it," Mingi wagers, and he should probably be embarrassed by how desperate and unconvincingly confident he sounds.
"You're right, unfortunately," Seonghwa sighs, and Mingi takes a little solace in the fact that he doesn't sound half as disinterested as he'd probably intended. God, he's probably just as affected as Mingi is. "I knew what I was getting into."
"'s that why you grabbed my ass like that?" His words are slurred against the skin of Seonghwa's neck, sticky with sweat that Mingi yearns to lick him clean of. "Wanted me rutting against your thigh, imagining how good your fingers would feel inside me?"
Seonghwa curses, his grip tightening around Mingi's garter as his other hand moves to grip at Mingi's ass. His hold is just on the right side of uncomfortably tight, and he's more or less guiding Mingi's motion entirely at this point.
Two fingers make a valiant effort of simulating the fantasy, pressing insistently between the cheeks in a way that can only be unsatisfying over the tight fabric of Mingi's pants. The mere suggestion is enough to have Mingi nearly collapsing against Seonghwa's body, desperate to get somewhere more secluded so they can take this further.
"Yeah," Seonghwa agrees, the pace he'd set picking up in a way that tells Mingi he's just as affected by the idea. "Didn't think you'd get this worked up by it, but I'm not complaining."
The urgency Mingi feels is only spurred further by the way he can feel Seonghwa hard against his hip, and he wants so badly to drop to his knees and taste him right now. He's pretty sure Seonghwa wouldn't go for that either, if he'd been worried about their lips being swollen from merely kissing. Still, doesn't hurt to try.
"Hyung," he pleads, pawing at Seonghwa's erection in a way that's anything but subtle. He's sure the way he swallows and licks his lips are more direct a request than anything Mingi can formulate verbally right now. Seonghwa seems to know already, his cock jerking beneath Mingi's fingertips. "Can I-"
"Oh, jagi, if only," Seonghwa soothes, and he does genuinely sound regretful about the denial. He casts a frantic glance around them, the area still blessedly empty. "Maybe, just- just your hand for now, yeah? I'll let you put those lips of yours anywhere you want, when we get home."
The promise of more has to be enough for now, even though Mingi can't help but whine about it. He's never been great about delayed gratification.
"Fine, but call me jagi again, and you won't be able to stop me," Mingi sulks, clumsy fingers fumbling to unzip Seonghwa's pants in their haste.
Seonghwa laughs breathlessly in response, and Mingi can't help the way a smile tugs at his pouting lips at the sound. It falls away quickly when Seonghwa's cock springs free, hard and already leaking, making Mingi begrudge the denial of getting his mouth on it this very moment.
In a last bid of defiance, he drags two fingers through the mess at the head and holds very intentional eye contact as he wraps his lips around them just after. The way he moans around the intrusion is only partly for show, but the way his hips kick forward again is an unplanned but welcome touch. He swirls his tongue around them, messy and eager, letting Seonghwa know exactly what he's said no to.
Seonghwa watches him in a daze that makes Mingi feel powerful, his breathing unsteady when Mingi finally pulls his fingers free with a pop and a thin trail of spit lingering to connect them to his spit-slicked lips. His gaze lingers there for a moment, his lips parted and eyes hungry. Good, Mingi wants him to regret denying him a kiss and a blowjob, even if it's more than a little petty of him.
Seonghwa's cock is hot and heavy in the palm of Mingi's hand, and the glide is slick from the mess of Mingi's spit and precome. Seonghwa throws his head back, his body arching off of the wall as Mingi builds up a rhythm. The movement of his hips is almost forgotten when he's so distracted by the incredible ways Seonghwa's face contorts in pleasure, but Seonghwa doesn't let him forget for long.
"Don't stop moving," he demands, punctuating the order with another sharp tug at Mingi's garter that has Mingi groaning at the sudden friction. "Want to watch you come on my thigh."
Mingi buries a moan into Seonghwa's chest, his grip tightening as he focuses his attention on rapid strokes at the tip of Seonghwa's cock.
"Want hyung to come first," Mingi complains weakly. He knows it's not far off for either of them, Seonghwa's breathing fast and ragged against the skin of Mingi's neck as the movement of Mingi's hips begin to stutter.
His only response is a series of short and jerky nods as Seonghwa bites his lips together around what is quite possibly the sexiest sound Mingi has ever heard in his life. God, he can't wait to see Seonghwa cut loose and let go. Mingi is going to draw the most incredible noises out of him as soon as they can be alone together.
It's only moments later when Seonghwa's mouth falls open, a choked moan ringing dangerously loud in the air around them as he spills over Mingi's fist. Mingi can't even blink as he watches Seonghwa come undone against him, the most incredible scene he's ever borne witness to.
He strokes Seonghwa through his release, only stopping when Seonghwa goes boneless beneath him. The moment he pulls his hand away, it's only to bring it instead to his waiting lips. He knows how he probably looks, lewd and fully desperate as his tongue gathers the mess from the side of his hand. He can feel Seonghwa's gaze on his skin like a brand, can feel his spent cock give a valiant twitch where it rests by his hip, and the attention is enough to finally push Mingi over the edge. He comes with the taste of Seonghwa finally, finally on his tongue, his senses overwhelmed as his hips grind desperately against Seonghwa's leg.
"You're incredible, jagiya," Seonghwa sighs in disbelief.
"Yah, you waited to call me that again on purpose, didn't you?" Mingi is out of breath and wholly exhausted, but he's eager to get back to work so they can finish this performance and get back to their dorm. He'll decide later whether he's feeling generous enough to give San a heads up about his plans.
Seonghwa laughs, something giddy and unbridled. God, he's beautiful. Mingi's obsessed. "Couldn't risk you doing your damndest to jeopardize our careers for a moment of pleasure."
"Okay, but you're going to pay for it later," Mingi threatens weakly, fighting and failing to keep his face serious as he takes Seonghwa's hand and pulls him upright. He generously allows Seonghwa to have his hand back to tuck himself back inside his pants and zip them back up, but then he's wriggling his fingers back between Seonghwa's to guide him down the hall back toward their dressing room.
"I look forward to it," Seonghwa teases with a grin and a wink, and Mingi wonders if he'll even make it through the rest of the show without finally claiming those lips of his.
If it's not immediately after their unit stage, maybe it won't look quite so suspicious.