Work Text:
HANSOL
2:21am
u up?
Unfortunately and fortunately, Seungkwan is up. Whether or not the late night text woke him up is neither here nor there; the truth of the matter is that he is awake, more than he’d like to be. If he were braver, maybe even stronger with some more self respect, he would turn his phone over face down on the sofa and call it a night.
But his spine is made of melted butter, and sooner than later he finds himself face down on the sofa instead. Hansol is quick, calculated in their orgasms even though Seungkwan has to shift himself a bit that way, touch himself more than he'd prefer. Eventually, he comes with a high whine, Hansol's name almost taking shape on his tongue until he's biting the top of his wrist to keep himself from doing something even more stupid than this. The flesh is wet and raw when his mouth parts from it, an angry red staring back at him as if to scold him for his poor choices. He stares back, wondering if he can see his reflection in the spit and liken it to a metaphor for his life.
The after feeling is always the worst part of this. Every single time, without fail, a heavy emptiness crawls down his throat, settles in his stomach like an iron weight until it feels like he may be growing his own abyss in the unexplored depths of his hallowed out bones. It's always a bit sad, a bit pathetic once the coldness of the air latches to his sweaty, sticky skin. He could maybe call it shame, but he's not ashamed of wanting. Wanting is natural, human—wanting this isn't the worst thing he can think of. He sits up, adjusting his shirt to cover his stomach, looking for his underwear and sweats discarded somewhere on the floor and taming his disheveled hair with delicate hands, eyes flickering up briefly to watch Hansol search for where his jeans got tossed aside.
Hansol is nice, always so nice. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body, has never even raised his voice at Seungkwan or anyone for that matter. He's not to blame for Seungkwan's poor choices, or where they've ended up. Random hook ups with an ex, Seungkwan with regret and want clawing at his throat, mentally begging Hansol to stay because his bed is too big, too cold. It gets too quiet after a certain point in the night, and there's only so many songs Seungkwan can sing to himself before they start to become laments.
He's snapped out of his thoughts by Hansol's cold hand brushing against his cold skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "You okay, Boo?"
Seungkwan nods like he always does, forcing a close mouth smile onto his face. "Yeah. Just thinking about waking up early."
"Ah. You've always worked too much," Hansol tsks, hopping as he pulls his jeans over his black boxer briefs with aliens on them. A gag gift taken seriously, most likely. A year ago, Seungkwan would have laughed, tugged at the hem of the shorts ridiculously endeared because he knows Hansol thinks they're genuinely cool.
Right now, it feels more like a knife to his chest, twisting until he's forcing himself in inhale as a reminder that he's fine. "Yeah, you know me," he agrees with a dry laugh, looking away just as quickly.
Hansol says nothing. Instead, he playfully swipes Seungkwan's chin with his knuckle as he walks past, tongue clicking with a loud sound that rattles in Seungkwan's ears clumsily. "Take a quick shower and go to sleep, Seungkwan-ah." He's already gathering his wallet and belongings from the coffee table, mentally out the door ten minutes ago.
"I will," Seungkwan replies, eyes focused on his fingers curled against the fabric of his thigh. Hansol should know he hates showers after sex, prefers baths instead so he can draw his knees up and hide his face in his flesh and think about how he thinks too much. "Have a goodnight, Hansollie," he says once he hears Hansol start to unlock the door.
The goodbye is returned and then Hansol leaves. In the loneliness, Seungkwan wills himself up onto his feet, every step dragging as he goes into his bathroom and turns the knob on the bathtub faucet, watching the steam billow up toward the ceiling.
Their breakup was somewhat mutual. At least, that's what Seungkwan swears. Hansol probably thinks it was mutual too—it's not like Seungkwan fought the idea when Hansol brought it up. It had been careful, avoiding the landmines planted around Seungkwan's feet. But Seungkwan didn't want a reaction—he knew it would hurt the both of them, leaving their skin nicked with shrapnel to be tended later rather than sooner. It'd be easier if the bombs never ignited to begin with.
Their lives are too different, moving at different speeds. Where Seungkwan is all quick paced, go, go, go, Hansol is steady, fingers spread in the whipping wind around Seungkwan, enjoying every breeze for what it is, not for where it may take him. Hansol isn't the relationship type, but he did his best for Seungkwan, and that alone was enough until it wasn't. Truthfully, he isn't over Hansol in the way he should be, even when he knows that the feelings Hansol used to have have dwindled into something neutral, platonic.
Their relationship has shifted into this: Hansol will text Seungkwan for sex because Seungkwan is shit at setting boundaries. He keeps doing it because Seungkwan swears to his face that it's just sex, even though more often than not he wishes Hansol would stay like he used to, would tell him that they should try again.
It never happens, and more often than not Seungkwan is left like this, a husk of a person watching the water droplets slide down his knee, lost in the shifting water around his body, blaming the only person at fault. He bites back the tears, resting his forehead on his knees. Tomorrow, he'll be kinder to himself.
𖧷
It should come as no surprise that Seungkwan misses his first and second alarm. Running late rarely happens, but when it does it's usually for the same reason. He has a shortened routine down, washing his face while he showers, tossing on a plain, white t-shirt and corduroy jacket hanging in the coat rack in his entryway, sporting the same jeans he wore yesterday and headphones perched on his skull blasting Wonder Girls to motivate him.
As things tend to go for him, he drops the contents of his messenger bag on the floor of the subway just before his stop, left scrambling with several judgmental looks and no help whatsoever. He doesn't miss his stop which is the first positive thing that happens all day. That and he gets his coffee for free, the barista seemingly sensing his urgency and noting that he's twenty minutes later than usual. His grateful words make her smile which is another positive thing he tucks into his pocket.
By the time he makes it into the studio building, his messenger bag is falling again as he rushes into the elevator just before it closes, earning a look from the janitor that makes him smile apologetically.
When he gets to his designated floor, Seokmin and Soonyoung are already picking at the snack table, looking miles more polished and ready for the day than him.
Seokmin is the first to notice him, a blinding smile spreading on his face, showing every one of his teeth. "Oh, there he is! Our star!"
Soonyoung barely glances over, poking at a bundle of grapes. "Yah, why are you so late?"
"Slept past my alarm," Seungkwan explains, watching in curiosity and annoyance as Seokmin and Soonyoung exchange a look and a harmonized, ahhh. "Huh—what? What does that mean?"
Seokmin's mouth twists sympathetically, a firm hand patting his shoulder. "Hansol came over last night, didn't he?"
A raspy laugh punches out of Seungkwan's chest, mouth opening and closing as his eyes widen. "What? No! Why would you—"
"You look freshly fucked," Soonyoung says bluntly, drowned out by Seokmin doing damage control.
"And you have that sadness in your eyes. You know, the one you get when you sleep with him after telling us that you're gonna cut it off."
Seungkwan gapes, met with two very pointed looks. "I—No I don't."
"We don't have time for your lies," Seokmin tells him, patting him on the back with a close mouthed, barely genuine smile. "We start in five. Get your hair touched up, yeah?"
Soonyoung gives him a sympathetic look. "Listen, all you need to do is say: 'Hansol, I'm still sort of in love with you and shouldn't let you rail me anymore'."
"I am not saying that," Seungkwan hisses in a whisper when they earn several looks from the staff. Soonyoung fixes him another sad sort of smile before shoving a handful of grapes into his mouth like a hamster before hibernation, and then joins Seokmin at the table set in front of several cameras and lights.
Seungkwan huffs to himself, patting his hair self consciously before finding the hair noona and letting her fix the mess while he stares at their setup. The lighting is bright, the background a light blue with their logo (three hands reading B, S, and a hand in a claw that Soonyoung swears is his brand) on the wall, the back illuminated by white lights.
Their radio show had started as a gag, nothing more than a college side job the three of them took for some extra and easy cash. All they had to do was stay up until an ungodly hour playing their favorite songs, uncaring if anyone was out there actually listening. The boredom manifested itself into their friends calling in, talking about their days, earning unsolicited advice and a chance to request a song. Eventually, the three of them took turns sharing their own thoughts, personal stories and experiences. Some of their stupid bits gained traction, earning them a bigger audience, an earlier time slot, and a whole lot of attention.
That turned into this—a radio show with a loyal audience they speak to almost every day, the audio live and the video uploaded the next day to their YouTube channel.
Seungkwan gets into his seat on the farthest, left side of the set up they have. His headphones sit on top of the microphone, waiting for him to plop them on his head and adjust the mic to his liking before he's immediately patted with some sebum controlling powder, lips touched up with some tint while Seokmin's eyebrows are brushed and Soonyoung's blond hair is fixed with some hair spray.
"We're rolling in five, four, three…"
Seokmin leads the intro naturally, a charming smile on his face as he starts. "Hello! We are—"
Seungkwan comes in on cue, "Boo—”
Then Seokmin: "Seok—”
And Soonyoung: "Soon!"
"Thank you for joining us on another beautiful morning," Seokmin continues, eyes curving as he beams, looking at both Seungkwan and Soonyoung. "We've got a lot of fun ways to pass time today—Soonyoung, would you like to share?"
"Yes," Soonyoung chirps, nasally in a way that makes him sound cuter than he normally is. "We'll be having a special guest here to talk to us about an upcoming album release! And also sharing an exclusion first listen to their new single. We'll also be dropping a few hints throughout the next hour, so please stay with us for our contest to win some tickets to their upcoming show in Seoul. Seungkwan-ah," he sings, gesturing at him. "Would you do the honors of recommending our first song of the morning?"
"Pick a good one," Seokmin urges, hands drumming on the table momentarily. "Let's make sure everyone starts their day with a smile!"
"Of course," Seungkwan grins with a nod. "We'll start out with a personal favorite for mornings that seem to start a bit slow—here's Yellow Cab by DPR LIVE."
They're silent as it queues and begins to play. As soon as the music starts, something close to a groan crawls out Soonyoung's throat, his eyes bee-lining straight to Seungkwan, brows drawn in annoyance. "Come on—have you learned nothing?!"
"What the hell did I do?!" Seungkwan nearly screams back, looking from Soonyoung to Seokmin who presses his lips together with a sigh.
"Isn't that Hansol's alarm tone?"
Seungkwan pauses before dropping his head into his hands, reminiscing on all the mornings woken up by the catchy melody. "Fuck me. God, why—why. Why am I like this?"
There's a few chuckles from the staff and a pat to his back from Seokmin, and eventually they get through the song. Seungkwan hangs back in the conversation, grateful that Hansol was never a radio listener.
𖧷
Having an active social life is a necessity for Seungkwan. It keeps his head on his shoulders, lets him take a breathe and remember that life doesn't have to move so quickly, that there are people around him that want to see him and hear from him.
Today, he has an early dinner with his closest friend and old roommate, Yoon Jeonghan. Always good company, always willing to be unserious and beat a dead horse when it comes to gossiping. Being a model (and ambassador for Yves Saint Laurent, thanks) means Jeonghan's schedule is hectic and unpredictable, and with his recent return from France, he's the one to invite Seungkwan out to this small restaurant, securing them a table outside on the patio where heaters make the frigid air tolerable while they eat.
Right now, Seungkwan fiddles with the top of his hair, doing his best to add some volume to make up for the fact that he's fresh off of work and Jeonghan looks like he was plucked off the runway—black hair trimmed just below his ears, tucked back, a new and wispy fringe falling delicately on his forehead. The black sweater he's wearing dips to show his collarbones and Seungkwan adjusts his own shirt in hopes to hide the wrinkles. Sometimes, when it seems like the universe needs Seungkwan to be humbled, he's reminded that there are people like Jeonghan who exist to do exactly that.
Perfect life, perfect hot-shot rapper boyfriend of almost ten years. A big house, cars, great skin and genetics without any major work done. He's only three years older than Seungkwan—it's all so ridiculously unfair.
"How was Paris?" Seungkwan asks once their food arrives, eager to live through Jeonghan's retelling of his week.
"Paris is so overrated, Seungkwan," Jeonghan sighs wistfully. "It smelled terrible and there was a rat in my hotel room. Plus the time difference messed me up this time—I barely got my sleeping schedule back on track, like, yesterday."
"Aw, you poor thing," Seungkwan teases with a pout. "You got an all paid trip to sit and watch a fashion show. I almost feel sorry for you, hyung." And sometimes, the universe sends Seungkwan to humble Jeonghan.
Jeonghan's mouth opens with a smile and gasp, eyes widening as he kicks Seungkwan beneath the table. "Yah—you little shit. You used to let me complain!"
"Sorry," Seungkwan sings playfully, though they both know that he's not all that sorry. "Do you only have complaints or is there anything worth sharing about Paris?"
Jeonghan purses his lips, looking up in thought before coming back with a shrug. "Honestly, nothing worth telling. I almost took the rat home but Cheollie said it might carry diseases and I stopped trying to have a good time after that." When Seungkwan's laugh teeters between amusement and a breath, Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, peering at him over the rim of his wine glass. "I feel like I should be the one asking what's going on with you. You have that sadness in your eyes."
"What the hell," Seungkwan mutters, running a hand over his face and coming back to a worried expression from his friend. "You're the second person to say that exact thing to me—do I not look okay?" He backtracks when Jeonghan opens his mouth to answer. "Don't answer that. It's… ugh. I saw Hansol last night."
"Saw him in passing?" Jeonghan asks, eyebrow raised. "Or saw him naked?"
Seungkwan fidgets with the corner of the napkin beneath his hand. A pause. "He had his shirt on, I think."
Jeonghan's tone is both exasperated and disappointed. "Aish—Seungkwan-ah. Really?"
"Don't do that. He texted me, I happened to be up and lonely. That was it, really."
"That wasn't 'it'," Jeonghan argues back. "That was sex with your ex-boyfriend that you said you were trying to get over the last time we talked."
"I am trying to get over him," Seungkwan insists, ignoring the pointed way Jeonghan is looking at him. "It's casual, hyung. I told you—it's fine, really."
"It makes you sad," Jeonghan says gently, like tending to a wounded animal, singing it a lullaby before its eyes flutter shut and it goes limp. Seungkwan clamps his mouth closed, swallowing shakily, eyes on Jeonghan's sympathetic ones. "I know it does. Be honest with me."
As difficult as it is to choke up all the spiraled, internal thoughts, Seungkwan gathers enough courage to talk. He talks about the sadness that looms over him the moment he's alone in his apartment, the pieces of someone still stuck between his teeth, bleeding into his every day life. He talks about how he knows this is terrible for him, but he can't bring himself to stop. It wouldn't hurt Hansol, he knows it wouldn't—Hansol is someone that believes everything happens just as it should happen. Seungkwan so desperately wants to be the same, but he can't cut the ties, can't free himself from his own set trap to even lick his own wounds.
"Loving someone isn't supposed to make you sad, Seungkwan," Jeonghan tells him.
Seungkwan smiles through the sharpness in his throat, looking down at his fingers curled together, picking his skin apart. "How'd you get so lucky with Seungcheol hyung?
Jeonghan laughs, head thrown back toward the setting sun. "Oh, god. It wasn't luck, and it wasn't as easy going as you think. Remember when we lived together? Seungcheol and I weren't even officially together—we just tell people we were because it's easier than explaining the absolute shit-show going on between us."
"You—you weren't?" Seungkwan blinks, shocked. He hadn't realized how much he didn't know about their relationship.
"No!" Jeonghan chuckles. "We had a whole situationship thing going on—sleeping together, refusing to talk about anything regarding feelings. I barely knew what I wanted and Seungcheol was stubborn, but we figured it out."
"You figured it out," Seungkwan repeats in a whisper and nod.
Jeonghan's smile fades as he presses his lips together into something closer to a tight rise of his mouth. He leans forward, hand coming over to rest on Seungkwan elbow as he speaks gently. "That's not for everyone sometimes and that's okay. Not everything is meant to have a happy ending. It's okay to move on and meet other people."
Seungkwan frowns. "Meet other people? I barely have time for everyone I already know. I don't even know where to meet people—"
"You're gonna have to find a way, Seungkwan," Jeonghan shrugs bluntly, leaning back and downing the rest of his wine, sucking his teeth when he's done. "You're a social butterfly, you'll be fine."
That night when he goes home, Seungkwan downloads three dating apps, half-assing profiles that he knows he'll cringe at in the morning and delete within the second. He scrolls for several minutes, no one standing out, no one catching his attention. As much as he doesn't want to get frustrated, the hopelessness is only amplified by the time he forces himself to go to sleep.
𖧷
Getting back into the swing of life without dragging his feet is easy when Seungkwan can throw himself in his work and friends, not allowing a single thought to have the chance at manifesting itself. He has a fun job, he loves it more than he can ever explain. He knows that he's one of the lucky ones that doesn't have to groan and moan about clocking into work, not when it's mostly him hanging out with his close friends.
Friday brings one of Seungkwan's personal favorite segments: BooSeokSoon's Cupid Corner. It's a chance for the three of them to do what they do best—give unsolicited advice and lose track of the topic of conversation until they're forced to reroute and actually be useful. Seungkwan takes it the most serious. Seokmin loves to add his own dramatic flairs. Soonyoung thinks everything is a fucking joke.
"If you think he's cheating, you should do this," Soonyoung starts, voice low in a whisper as he presses his lips right to his microphone despite Seokmin and Seungkwan's protests to please not do that. "You'll need sugar, a funnel, and stealth. He'll need a license and a vehicle in his name that is one hundred percent his responsibility. When the sun disappears from the sky—”
Seokmin sputters out a laugh, eyes curved as he looks around at the laughing staff and then right at a camera. "What? What is this?"
"Shhh!" Soonyoung hisses, going back to his creased brows, intense gaze locked on the camera opposite of him. "When the sun disappears from the sky, you blend in with your surroundings—use the funnel to pour sugar into his gas tank. You dispose of the evidence and leave as fast as you can, have an alibi, and you—"
"Okay!" Seungkwan says out loud. "This is starting to sound like something our legal team will not be happy with, so why don't we move onto the next question. Seokminnie, what do you have for us?"
"Here's a good one," Seokmin says after a second, handing the tablet over to Seungkwan. "Seungkwan will do the honor of reading and answering."
"Okay, let's see what we have here…" Seungkwan hums with a musical cadence, squinting to read the small font. "Alright, it says: Hello BooSeokSoon! I'm a big fan and wanted to ask for some advice on a situation I have found myself in. My ex and I broke up over a year ago, but it seems as if we are still together in a way—he comes over and I cannot find it in myself to say no. I still love him and my friends who know more than I do say I need to cut him off—" Seungkwan pauses, tongue in his cheek as he laughs bluntly, eyes flicking up to look at Soonyoung and Seokmin who are feigning too much innocence to be actually innocent. Seokmin has the audacity to raise his hands up in self defense. "I think we can skip this one, actually."
"Aye, no!" Soonyoung protests, fists hitting the table like a petulant child. "This person needs our wisdom! They sound sad and stupid—"
"Wah, Kwon Soonyoung," Seungkwan gasps. "Are you calling our fans stupid?"
Soonyoung's mouth drops, eyes wide as he looks between Seungkwan, Seokmin, and the rest of the staff who have given up trying to get them back on track. "That's not what I said! I said this one person sounds stupid—"
"Maybe they can handle themselves," Seungkwan says back. "Maybe they don't need their friends or us meddling in their lives."
"Of course you would think that—"
Seungkwan shuts his mouth, nostrils flaring as he leans back in his chair. He lets the tablet clatter onto the table, cocking his chin toward it. "You finish reading it, then. Because I'm not going to."
The silence is thick until Seokmin is laughing in the way that he does to try and blow past the awkwardness and tension. "Our next song will help everyone cool off! Here's Wave by ATEEZ." A few seconds pass until the song plays. Seokmin huffs, taking his headphones off, whipping his head to look at the two of them. "What the hell, guys?"
Seungkwan says nothing, leaving his own headphones on the table and getting up, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor loud in the silence. He doesn't look back, not even as he hears Soonyoung call his name in a soft tone. If he's trying to apologize, it's useless at the moment. The anger in Seungkwan's chest is scalding and if he opens his mouth, he's bound to burn someone.
He understands where their concern is coming from. He knows he has the tendency to self destruct, to hurt himself more than he means to. A good thing is never a good thing if Seungkwan touches it—Seokmin and Soonyoung have seen the worst of it all. They had to listen to all the depressing songs Seungkwan queued up for a straight month. They had to pretend not to notice the way he'd dip his head down, press the heels of his palms into his eyes to keep the tears back and not ruin his makeup. And when it seemed like Seungkwan had finally picked himself up, he spiraled into a completely different situation that would surely lead to his second downfall: sleeping with his fucking ex.
So, the concern is warranted—but to bring it up in the middle of their show? It's a new low for all of them.
Seungkwan finds himself outside, arms crossed as he leans against the brick wall. It's times like this that he wishes he smoked. Jeonghan always looks devastatingly pretty when he's stressed, always with a cigarette hanging between his fingers while he'd moan and complain about whatever issue was pestering him on that day. Though, the stick always smelled terrible and sometimes Jeonghan's breath would still hold traces of ash hours after and that reminder is always enough to deter Seungkwan from trying it. He doesn't have time to develop another habit that may ruin another part of him.
He listens to the sound of passing traffic, the horns and wheels crunching against the roads until he feels like he can breathe again. When he comes back inside, Seokmin and Soonyoung are waiting for him with sheepish looks on their faces. Seungkwan sighs, rolling his eyes and gesturing for them to talk to him.
"I'm sorry," Soonyoung says first. "That wasn't the way to go about this. We put you on the spot and that wasn't fair, Seungkwan. I just—"
"We're worried about you," Seokmin finishes softly, fingertips brushing against Seungkwan's wrist. "We want you to be happy, Seungkwan-ah. You're our friend and—and this… This isn't making you happy."
It's not the first time Seungkwan has heard it, but it's the first time he sags in defeat. "I know. It's—I should move on. I'm gonna move on, you're right. I shouldn't keep doing this to myself."
Soonyoung wraps him into a hug, his cheek squished against Seungkwan's head. "If you need help, we're right here. Okay? I can tell Hansol—"
"Nope," Seungkwan says quickly. "I feel like you'd make it worse."
Soonyoung laughs. "Ah, yeah. You're probably right."
Seokmin joins in on the group hug, awkwardly weaseling his way in despite Seungkwan's protests that he's getting squished. "Should we set you up, Seungkwannie? You know, one of our camera men is single now—"
Seungkwan breaks out of their intertwined arms, fixing his disheveled hair with a pout and a huff. "I am not doing on a date with a divorced forty year old, hyung. Are you kidding?"
"Okay, noted," Seokmin nods. There's a beat of silence before he tries: "Someone younger, then?"
"Jesus Christ," Seungkwan mumbles. "Let's focus on our job right now, yeah?"
"Hey—what about the coffee truck guy?" Soonyoung calls as Seungkwan starts walking away. "He was checking out your ass!"
𖧷
The little things make Seungkwan's days easy to power through. He does his best to romanticize his evenings when he feels he needs it most. It always puts him in a better mood, leaves him to hum even in the loneliness of his apartment. Tonight, on the way home he calls Junhui—a friend who moved back to his hometown for a movie he's filming. They still keep in touch, mostly because Seungkwan grew ridiculously fond of him throughout their years knowing each other.
They chat about all the new things in life while Seungkwan stops by the grocery store to pick up some things for dinner even though he's a terrible cook. Junhui tells him about his martial arts skills finally becoming useful—he's been praised by the fight scene choreographers for his ability to adapt and learn so quickly. Seungkwan tells him about a meeting he has tomorrow to talk about the approaching guest star and also choose the next guest star on the radio show, asking Junhui for some suggestions. Junhui, the kind angel he is, tries his best only to come up short. Seungkwan insists that it's okay, usually Seokmin has connections that make it easier to come up with a list of people that would be willing to come on anyway. That's where this next week's guest star comes from—whoever they may be.
By the time Seungkwan returns back to his apartment, Junhui is rambling on about the amount of restaurants he found that he knows Seungkwan would enjoy. Seungkwan smiles to himself, depositing the groceries onto the kitchen island.
"If you're ever here you should try them!" Junhui insists. "If I could cook, I would make it for you but it's too hard."
"Ah, hyung," Seungkwan coos. "I can always learn how to make it."
Junhui snorts. Seungkwan starts laughing, too. Eventually, Junhui's yawns get closer together and they hang up, promising to talk again soon.
Seungkwan tries his hand at making something simple only to burn it beyond saving. He settles for a rice packet and an egg steamed in the microwave, only for it to be forgotten within the few minutes it takes to make.
HANSOL
u home?
Seungkwan swallows, dropping his head into his hands.
SEUNGKWAN
yeah :)
𖧷
Again, it should come to no surprise that Seungkwan is running late to the meeting. In his defense, though it's not really a defense to begin with, he set his alarms later than normal, hoping to squeeze in a few extra minutes of sleep even though it didn't make much of a difference. The bags under his eyes are still heavy, his mind is still foggy, and he still feels like shit.
With it being Saturday, the cafe is busier than normal. He doesn't get the luxury of skipping the line or getting a free drink since his favorite barista is nowhere to be seen, so he's forced to sit in the consequences of his bad decisions for longer than he's used to. Luckily, it's a Saturday, which means they're not on air or filming today. There's enough wiggle room for him to come in late anyway, but it doesn't stop the looks he gets from Soonyoung and Seokmin, staring at him like they know.
Seungkwan keeps to himself, chin down as he sips at his iced coffee and everyone gets settled as the meeting begins. The chattering dwindles down, their PD asking Seokmin if he has any suggestions on the potential future guests. Seokmin goes through the notepad he has in front of him, giving some names of idols, actors, and miscellaneous celebrities that have expressed interest in appearing on their show.
Soonyoung perks up, speaking quickly in excitement. "Do you have Lee Soohyuk's number? I think we should try getting him on the show—"
"I already told you," Seokmin reminds him, a bit exasperated. "He's booked until the next year. Getting him on here is gonna be almost impossible."
"Just book him now!" Soonyoung insists. "I'm pretty sure he's my soulmate, Seokmin. We can't pass up that opportunity."
Stifled giggles sprinkle around the staff as Seokmin makes an empty promises. Someone else brings up a recently debuted girl group, pointing out how they may be able to pull in a younger audience and get their ratings up. It's a good idea, everyone agrees to give it a chance while Seungkwan is more focused on moving the big ice chunks around to get every drop of coffee out.
"Moving onto this week's guest," their PD starts, pulling Seungkwan's attention away from his drink. "Kim Mingyu—chef, influencer. He has a big following and a lot of dedicated fans. I know there's an interview lined up but we were also thinking it could be fun to have a cooking segment with him!"
"Wah, that would be incredible!" Soonyoung gasps excitedly. "Wait—we get to eat it right? We're allowed to eat it?"
"Yes, he'll be cooking for the three of you," their PD informs them. "That's after your interview with him, though. So think of some questions, maybe a game or two, and we'll have a different area set up for the cooking segment. Any comments?"
Seungkwan glances at Seokmin and Soonyoung who seem to be on the same page. "No questions," Seungkwan says with a tight smile.
The rest of the meeting goes by quickly and a headache is throbbing behind Seungkwan's eyes as he gathers his things and goes to leave. Seokmin stops him just before he gets out the building, a hand on his elbow. "When you go home," he starts, voice quieter than normal making Seungkwan look around curiously and confused, "do some research on Kim Mingyu."
"Okay?" Seungkwan says slowly. "Why can't you do it?"
"Because I want you to," Seokmin tells him bluntly, giving him a sweet smile before patting his cheek twice. "Have a goodnight, Kwannie!"
Seungkwan presses his lips together, watching as Seokmin makes conversation with some of the staff. He brushes the interaction off in favor of going to a pilates class starting at noon. It's better than going for a jog, and for a good hour and a half he can feel good about himself and his productivity.
His day passes by slowly and soon he's settling in for the night after a long shower and dinner on his sofa, re-watching When Life Gives You Tangerines just to feel something. It isn't until he's scrolling through YouTube with dried tear stains that he remembers Seokmin's request, deciding that it'll probably distract him enough to look up their upcoming guest.
It takes a few tries, Seungkwan having forgotten his name and struggling to find the right keywords to search, but eventually he finds the YouTube channel: Make with Mingyu!
The video starts with a cute intro, one with a scrapbook-like feel, the font almost hand drawn, the ingredients and completed meal coming into screen like pages torn from a journal. A voice over sounds, tone sweet and carrying something of a lisp as they introduce the video. A greeting and explanation at the dish they'll be making today: authentic Mexican tacos.
Seungkwan's curiosity is piqued when the video finally shows the person behind the channel. Kim Mingyu, tall if his proportion to his surroundings are accurate, tanned, insanely perfect skin, and probably the most eerily handsome face Seungkwan has ever seen. Not eerie in a terrifying way, more of a he's sort of too perfect to be real way. The canines of his teeth are sharp, flashing every time he speaks quickly or smiles at the camera, explaining how he recently returned from a trip to Mexico and became obsessed with the art of their cuisine.
"I visited some of the best restaurants I've ever eaten at and got to know some of the amazing cooks," Mingyu explains excitedly, clapping his hands once. "So I come here to share what they taught me. First, have your ingredients prepped."
As much as it's an educational video on cooking, something Seungkwan should definitely be paying attention to, he finds himself more focused on Mingyu's rolled sleeves, the delicate movement of his hands as he chops, peels, gathers. His hands are pretty too; well manicured nails, tanned just like the rest of him.
At one point, he looks up from where he's making a salsa, a strand from his black hair falling in his face as he explains that everyone's spice tolerance is different and to avoid using habaneros if you're sensitive to heat. It goes over Seungkwan's head quickly and he plays the next video. And the next. And the one after that.
He does just as Seokmin asked him to do: research on Kim Mingyu.
If he falls asleep watching one of the personal vlogs from his second channel, no one else has to know.
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Admittedly, Kim Mingyu is forgotten about within the couple of days as Seungkwan continues to barrel through life. Between keeping himself pulled together by a string and work and maintaining his surprisingly active social life, by the time it gets to the morning of the interview, Seungkwan nearly forgets.
Nearly.
He remembers as he's brushing his teeth, contemplating if he should do a quick whitening strip beforehand. It happens to be a coincidence that he woke up early enough to squeeze in some extra time showering, moisturizing, and somewhat fixing up his hair and makeup so the noonas at work don't have to fret about him so much.
He arrives at the studio earlier than Seokmin which could say a lot if he thinks about it real hard. But he doesn't, instead he plucks an apple from the snack table and goes to get his hair and makeup touched up while he has the extra time. It's nice getting to talk and banter with the hairstylists and makeup artists, he almost doesn't realize Seokmin's arrived until one of them greets him happily.
"Oh, Seungkwan-ah," Seokmin drawls innocently, sitting himself down on the couch while he watches Seungkwan get some lip tint applied. "You're early today."
"Woke up early," Seungkwan says breezily, ignoring the way Seokmin leans forward in interest. "I even took a nice, long shower. It was great."
"Ah," Seokmin hums. "Any particular reason why?"
"Not particularly," Seungkwan hums back, raising an eyebrow when Seokmin narrows his eyes, the corner of his mouth starting to tilt up into a teasing smile.
Soonyoung arrives just as Seokmin opens his mouth, oblivious as he tends to be as he starts to barrel on through a story about nearly getting ran over by a car in the parking lot. As the minutes pass by, Seungkwan's nerves start to take a hold. He does his best to hide it, to stop the shaking of his leg as they go over interview questions and games, to stop the cracking in his voice when Seokmin asks him if he did his research at all.
"Yes," Seungkwan says shortly with the dry crack of his mouth, quickly fixed as he takes a rather large sip of his half empty iced Americano before going through the notes app on his phone. "Kim Mingyu is a chef born in 1997, he went into culinary school at the age of twenty, shared his journey on social media which helped him amass a large following. Soon, he began to travel and learn from chefs all over the world—he has a series on his personal YouTube channel with clips from his trips abroad—and when he comes back to Seoul he shares those recipes."
"Wah," Soonyoung blurts through wide eyes and an opened mouth, glancing at Seokmin like they've had a conversation about this already. "He actually did research."
Seungkwan's eyebrows knit together as he whips his head to look at Seokmin. "What does he mean? You told me to do research!"
"Yeah, but," Seokmin starts, having the nerve to look a little embarrassed, "we didn't think you'd actually, like. Do research."
"And what exactly did you think I was going to do?"
"Ogle," Soonyoung says bluntly, only for the conversation to be cut by their PD telling them it's time to start the show.
Seungkwan scrunches his face in annoyance as Seokmin beams, patting him on the shoulder and wishing him luck like they're athletes with an important game ahead of them. If he was actually a good friend, he wouldn't get Seungkwan in his thoughts like this.
By the time they're counting down and Seungkwan is sitting in his chair with the lights beaming down on him and several cameras angled toward the three of them, his palms are sweating, rubbing against the dense fabric of his jeans.
"Hello! We are—"
Seungkwan barely makes his cue on time, mustering up a smile. "Boo—”
He doesn't miss the curious glance from Seokmin. "Seok—”
"Soon!" Soonyoung finishes strongly, completely oblivious to Seungkwan's minor hiccup as he sighs into the microphone, all teeth displayed in a smile as he looks back and forth between his two friends. "Ah, what a beautiful morning."
"You woke up in a good mood," Seokmin observes, turning his chair to look at Seungkwan next. "Didn't you also wake up in a good mood, Seungkwan-ssi?"
"Yes, I woke up early and the sun was coming in through my window," Seungkwan says sweetly with a nod, not playing into Seokmin's bait. "I'm sure a lot of people out there noticed it, too. Didn't it seem like a nice and quiet morning? Really, it was so peaceful, I was so happy when I opened my eyes."
"Mm, I'm sure you'll find happier things about today," Seokmin says, quick to follow it with a segue. "For everyone listening or watching when this is uploaded, we have a guest star today that is someone we've been dying to meet. Soonyoung! Would you please give us a little hint?"
Soonyoung's lips tighten as he hums in thought, brown eyes darting around before he has a shit eating grin on his face, staring right at Seungkwan. "Our guest today is going to leave a bold taste in some of our mouths—"
Seungkwan can't help the laugh that sputters out of him in disbelief. "What—why? A bold taste? Yah, Kwon Soonyoung, watch your mouth!"
"Okay!" Seokmin says loudly over the two of them. "Our first song in the morning is something light and sweet to celebrate Seungkwan's wonderful morning. This is Signal by TWICE!"
Soonyoung cackles as soon as the track starts playing, nearly falling back in his seat when Seokmin and Seungkwan gape at him. "You—ah—Seungkwan's face! Oh, that was so—"
"Inappropriate!" Seungkwan manages to stammer out with pink tinted cheeks. "What the hell was that?!"
Just as Seokmin is about to intervene, their PD calls out: "Kim Mingyu is almost out of hair and makeup—please get seated and settled! He'll be joining you after the next song."
Seungkwan clamps his mouth shut knowing that his voice tends to carry. He hopes it wasn't heard and trusts in the soundproofing around them to settle his mind as the song ends and they continue with some light chatter. Seokmin talks about the Dodgers game he watched last night and the conversation easily derails into Soonyoung praising the corn dogs until Seungkwan is pushing them back into the next several songs queued up.
In the second of silence as they wait for the song to begin playing, Seungkwan can hear distant and chattering voices. He straightens up, delicate hands coming up to fix the fringe on his forehead that has flattened with time. He ignores the amused look Seokmin shoots him in favor of smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt and hoping the tint on his lips is still standing strong. What's the harm in making a good first impression?
When Seungkwan finally looks up, it's just in time to see Kim Mingyu coming onto the set.
A kind smile greets all the staff, his tall body bending at the waist slightly to say hello along with his voice. He's taller than Seungkwan imagined, towering over most of the staff and what looks to be his manager lingering behind. Somehow, he's just as ridiculously attractive in real life as he is behind a screen. His skin is nearly golden, broad shoulders and muscled arms adorned with a grey sweater, tight around his chest and upper back, giving no room to imagine the curves and dips of his muscles as the fabric molds against them. His blue jeans are decorated with a belt and thin and rectangular buckle, drawing just enough attention from his long legs to his waist. His black hair is styled messily, slightly more wavy than what Seungkwan remembers seeing in his videos. Permed, probably. It suits him—the style hangs over his forehead in an effortless manner, making him look more cozy than formal.
Seungkwan is on his feet, joining Seokmin and Soonyoung as they shake Mingyu's hand properly. There's greetings, some trails of conversation that fall deaf on Seungkwan's ears until he realizes that it's his turn to introduce himself. Mingyu turns to him, brown eyes locking right on Seungkwan's. His mouth falls open as he blinks, like he had barely noticed Seungkwan's presence. Seungkwan is the first to offer his hand.
The moment Seungkwan's hand is enveloped in Mingyu's, he can feel his heart in his throat and all the heat bleeding from Mingyu's body into his own.
"Hi," Mingyu says first, a smile slowly taking over his lips. His canines are sharp and on display as he keeps speaking. "I'm Mingyu. Kim Mingyu."
"Boo Seungkwan," Seungkwan answers with a close mouthed smile, taking his hand back and dropping it at his side. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Mingyu says. A beat passes and Mingyu is still looking at him, eyes yet to waver until he's told to sit in the empty seat between Seokmin and Soonyoung.
Grateful for the distance, Seungkwan gets his ass back in his own seat, pretending to busy himself with his phone. He scrolls through Instagram for all of ten seconds until they're ready to get back on air. He takes the chance to glance up as puts his headphones on, only to find Mingyu looking away as he does so. A part of his chest flickers with pride until he's shoving it down, reminding himself to not be so ridiculous. He doesn't need to project his crush or see things that are not there. Though, it does make life a bit more fun.
"That was a great mix to start off a morning," Seokmin starts, pulling Seungkwan out of his thoughts. "We'd like to now introduce a guest star we've all been very excited to have here on our show, everyone please welcome chef Kim Mingyu!"
Soonyoung presses a button on the sound effects board in front of him, setting off an artificial roar of a round of applause. Mingyu smiles, waving at the cameras around. "Hello, thank you for having me. I'm excited to be here."
"Rumor has it, you're a fan of this show," Soonyoung starts, backtracking before Mingyu can even answer. "Well, that rumor was started by me, but have you listened to our show, Mingyu-ssi? Or is this your first time?"
"I'm a fan," Mingyu admits with a nod, eyes falling on Seungkwan before shifting back to Soonyoung. "I like to listen in the morning when I'm at the gym or on a jog. And when I'm overseas, it's nice to have something familiar like this if I'm homesick."
"Aww," Soonyoung coos, chin perched in the palms of his hands. "You flatter us too much, chef."
"We have a lot planned after this interview, so why don't we get on with the questions?" Seokmin suggests, gesturing toward Seungkwan first. Seungkwan shakes his head as subtly as he can, going still when Mingyu's eyes fall on him. "Seungkwan, you've been pretty quiet—"
"Just starstruck," Seungkwan says before Seokmin can try humiliating him. He turns to Mingyu, pushing his mouth up into a polite smile in an attempt to come off as normal as possible even if he wouldn't mind toying with the idea of being eaten alive by Mingyu. "I had the pleasure of being tasked with looking through your content, Mingyu-ssi. For those listening that aren't familiar with your content, how would you describe it? Give us your best sales pitch." Seokmin and Soonyoung share an impressed look, seemingly forgetting that while Seungkwan may be a fucking mess in his real life, he takes his job very seriously, thanks.
"Can I just say, it's me that's starstruck," Mingyu starts, gesturing toward the three of them. "Really, it's an honor being here—anyway, I would say I lean toward cooking tutorials more than anything. With that I try to share my knowledge and love for food not just from here, but from all over the world."
Seokmin hums in curiosity. "So, it's also educational in a way?"
"Yes," Mingyu says with a proud smile, fingers drumming on edge of the table where his hands are resting. Still well manicured. "I try having as much fun as I can while also teaching others and learning new things, too."
"Right—a lot of the dishes you make are recipes you learned while traveling," Seungkwan points out, selfishly earning Mingyu's attention again. When he smiles, Mingyu smiles back. "You have so many interesting things about your content, but I was most curious about how you choose your locations. Is it spontaneous? Or do you have a general idea of what you want to try next?"
"It depends!" Mingyu answers, words quickening with his excitement, bringing his slight lisp forward. "Sometimes I ask my manager to find me a place I've never been to, or I take suggestions from comments or people I run in to. It's really fun that way, I almost never know where life is going to take me."
Seungkwan finds himself leaning into his words, barely catching himself as Seokmin asks Mingyu what his favorite country has been so far (Thailand) and Soonyoung asks if he knows how to make those corn dogs from baseball games (he does).
"Aish, ask him about things he wants to hear about," Seungkwan scolds, rolling his eyes when Soonyoung had the audacity to look offended.
"Who said he didn't want to hear those questions?!"
"Well, we can ask him," Seungkwan tells Soonyoung, turning his body to Mingyu. "What would you like us to ask you about? You're our guest, we pride ourselves in being good hosts."
"Well, Seungkwan-ssi," Mingyu starts slowly, his body angled toward Seungkwan, his hands now clasped on the table as he tilts his head rather cutely. "It seemed like you were doing well asking them yourself."
Seungkwan blinks, blindsided by the compliment. "I'm being considerate, I know your craft is important to you—"
"Ah, did I say that?"
This time, Seungkwan's mouth drops, taken aback by the answer, only realizing that Mingyu is fucking with him when the corner of his mouth tilts up. He pouts, plastering on the persona he tends to exaggerate for entertainment. Loud, confrontational, easily offended. "Yah—here, do you want to go over my questions? Pick out the ones good enough for you?"
"Thank you," Mingyu beams, accepting the tablet Seungkwan hands him with the dismissive wave of his hand as Seokmin and Soonyoung start laughing. Mingyu's finger taps the screen to wake it up, eyes going comically wide as he scrolls. "Wah—what's this? You want to see me take my shirt off—"
"Soonyoung wrote that one!" Seokmin defends, pointing right at Soonyoung who is nearly red with laughter. "I swear!"
"Was that really on there?" Seungkwan asks, shocked as Mingyu nods. "What the hell—everyone at home, I'm sorry. We have class—"
"Okay!" Seokmin says over them, controlling the damage like he usually does. "Mingyu gets to choose our next song—make the right choice or Seungkwan might kill you."
"I love Wonder Girls," Seungkwan tells him with a very serious face, trying not to look as proud as he feels when Mingyu laughs. "So, keep that in mind."
"Ah. Makes sense," Mingyu teases with a nod.
"Makes sense?" Seungkwan parrots back, nearly squawking in offense. "Why? What does that mean?"
"Nothing!" Mingyu says, hands up in defense. "I just mean it makes sense!"
"Yeah well you look like you like BigBang!"
"I do like BigBang," Mingyu grins.
"Yah," Seungkwan breathes out with a laugh, leaning back in his chair and looking away from the charm that seems to wrap around Mingyu. "All muscle heads are the same."
Mingyu is quick, speaking right after Seungkwan. "Is that why you like Wonder Girls?"
With a gaping mouth, Seungkwan blinks at Mingyu, trying his best to keep himself from laughing and failing. "Yah! Pick a song—aish. We're never gonna get through this day, are we?"
"Nobody by Wonder Girls," Mingyu says, eyes and smile still locked on Seungkwan.
Seungkwan blinks again, the stillness shattered as everyone starts to bustle around for their fifteen minute break while a playlist of songs plays. Seokmin gives him and Mingyu a thumbs up, propping his headphones on his microphone. "You guys have good banter—I think people are gonna enjoy it!"
With that, him and Soonyoung are up and rushing toward the bathrooms and snack table. Seungkwan looks over only to find Mingyu being taken away by his manager, a makeup noona following him to pat his skin with powder. Knowing that he should probably take advantage of the break, Seungkwan gets up and heads toward one of the break rooms with the fridges stocked with cold brew, chugging half of it before hounding the table of snacks.
He's going back and forth between granola bar and some grapes when someone occupies the space beside him. When he finally glances over, he has to do a double take, not having expected Mingyu to be right there, arms brushing.
"I would go for the grapes," Mingyu tells him. "They look like they're perfectly ripe."
"Oh," Seungkwan nods, hand unmoving. "Thank you."
As Seungkwan contemplates walking away or popping a grape in his mouth, Mingyu is distracting him by clearing his throat. "Hey, um. I just wanted to apologize if I was being too much—I hope I didn't come across in a bad way. I've never done a radio show and I'm just more nervous than I thought I'd be."
"What? No! No, you didn't," Seungkwan tells him quickly, wondering where he got the idea that the slight banter and teasing wasn't mutual. It's definitely more tame compared to some of the other guests they've had. "Really, it's okay. I like having someone I can keep up with, you know? I think it just surprised me at first."
Mingyu's eyebrow shoots up, his gaze flickering across Seungkwan's face for a fleeting moment. "Ah. So, you think you can keep up with me?"
Seungkwan blinks, lips wrapped around the round body of a grape as his cheeks burn with a blush, having to tilt his chin up slightly to lookup at Mingyu. He's incredibly handsome from this close up, so much so that it's intimidating as all hell. He forces himself to chew the grape, nearly choking in the process until he can finally stammer out,"I—yeah. Yeah, I think so."
Mingyu hums, a quick hmph muffled around the handful of variety nuts he pops into his mouth, eyes yet to leave Seungkwan. "Good to know," he says, called away by his restless manager who is on the phone, beckoning him over with the frantic wave of a hand.
Seungkwan stays planted at the table, staring at the grapes like they're viable witnesses until it's time to return. From there, it's easy to fall back into the natural banter from before. Mingyu is more outspoken, confident in his teasing and jokes as they play a rapid fire question game that Seungkwan takes mental notes from.
Mingyu's favorite food is everything. He likes dogs more than cats. If he could have any power, it would be teleportation. He'd rather be hot than cold. He's single. He's single. He's single.
It hangs in the back of Seungkwan's mind all the way up until they're taking another break, moving into another room set up with all things Mingyu will need to cook for them—a make shift kitchen of sorts with some portable burners, a sink, pots and pans, knifes and other utensils, and several other things Seungkwan takes in while the staff scatters around to get everything in its place.
He watches as Mingyu washes his hands, the tanned skin lathered in soap only to disappear beneath the steady stream of water.
"So. Your type?"
Seungkwan jumps, whipping his head to look at Seokmin who is standing with his hands in his pocket and his eyebrows raised in absolute glee. "What are you talking about?" Seungkwan replies even though he has somewhat of a clue.
Unsurprisingly, Seokmin tilts his chin toward where Mingyu is drying his hands on the rag now over his shoulder. "Mingyu. It seems like you guys are getting along."
"He's nice," Seungkwan whispers, looking over at the basket of tomatoes and the bag of flour leaning against it. "But that's it."
"Come on," Seokmin pushes with the whine of his tone. "He's perfect for you!"
"Ha," Seungkwan laughs dryly. "I don't think he'd take a second look at me even if he wanted to, Seokmin hyung."
This time, the look on Seokmin's face is sadder. "Don't say that, Seungkwan. You're amazing—"
Seungkwan pats him on the shoulder, not wanting to stick around for the pity party Seokmin is about to throw. He knows he's probably nowhere near Mingyu's type. Mingyu probably likes models of all sorts, people who are cultured and interesting. Seungkwan lives a life that, while it's interesting, is nowhere near the same lifestyle Mingyu is known for. They wouldn't work. That's the reality of it.
They get in their places when they're called to. Seungkwan positions himself at the end, beside Soonyoung to give himself some space from Mingyu before his thoughts can run more rampant and give Seokmin something else to talk about. Like this, he can glance over at Mingyu in a way that looks like he's trying to hear and see better instead of admiring his side profile and the slope of his nose.
"Chef Mingyu," Soonyoung says with a grand gesture toward Mingyu. "Please tell us what you're making for us today!"
"Well, I recently learned how to make homemade pasta," Mingyu explains, pointing at the flour and the eggs in their cardboard container . "So I'll be making some spaghetti from scratch for the three of you—I was told there are no allergies but I just wanted to be sure." A chorus of no allergies chime from the three of them as they glance around to be sure before Mingyu claps his hands, looking right at the camera in front of them. "Okay! Let's get started!"
Seungkwan watches in something close to a trance as Mingyu explains every step of the process. He lets them crack eggs into the well of flour, showing them how to knead it into dough, how to turn the roundness into thinner pieces of pasta noodles. He's quick in the small area they've given him, keeping up with conversations like second nature as he chops onions and tomatoes, tosses them onto a pan with the hiss of the heat and steam billowing up into the air.
The sleeves of his sweater are pushed up his forearms that Seungkwan only looks away from when he realizes Mingyu is asking them a question. "Are there any foods you guys wouldn't have eaten if I cooked them today?"
"Snails," Soonyoung says quickly with the distasteful scrunch of his nose. "I feel bad—they're too slow to escape!"
"I'm not picky at all," Seokmin answers right after. "Really, I think I could give anything a chance."
Mingyu turns his head, looking away from the boiling pasta to meet Seungkwan's eye. "What about you, Seungkwan-ssi?"
"Seafood," Seungkwan says after a beat, playing up the disgust for the sake of having some decent content. "I've tried it and it's never good—ack, I hate it, really. I would have felt so bad having to tell you I couldn't eat it."
"It's a good thing I didn't even think of making seafood," Mingyu laughs, placing a strainer in the sink and putting oven mitts over his hands. "Okay, I'm gonna ask you all to step back so I can strain the noodles. Water burns are no joke." The three of them comply, taking several steps back and watching with curious faces as Mingyu strains the noodles and begins to plate it, neatly piled with a green garnish on top. When he's done, he steps back with a nervous laugh. "Wah—I'm so nervous, I don't know why!"
"We're known to be critics," Seungkwan jokes, joining Seokmin and Soonyoung in picking a plate, holding a fork, and taking the first bite. Seungkwan sighs, a little annoyed at it all. Attractive, funny, kind, and an amazing cook. "It's not even that good," he jokes, shoveling another forkful into his mouth as Soonyoung and Seokmin riff off him.
"Disgusting," Seokmin mumbles, the corner of his mouth stained with sauce. "I'm gonna finish it so no one else has to try it."
Soonyoung holds up his empty plate, showing it at every camera until even the staff and Mingyu are nearly on the floor in laughter. "We saved you all from having to eat that. Really, be grateful."
Seungkwan looks at their PD, whispering loudly, "We need to hire him—seriously, we need a chef around here."
"I'll take the job," Mingyu says, now standing next to Seungkwan, leaning forward on the surface, forearms flat and his body bent at the wait. He's nearly at eye level with Seungkwan like this, catching his gaze like a deer in headlights. He grins when Seungkwan's eyes widen. "When do I start?"
"We'll talk to our team," Seungkwan says with an exaggerated wink, noting the cue to segue into music. "For now, let's listen to something that matches our theme pretty well today! This is Spaghetti by LE SERRAFIM!"
Seokmin is the first to start clapping, encouraging everyone to do so while he praises Mingyu and his skills. Soonyoung and Seungkwan follow after, keeping it vague to let the staff have a chance to clean up while they prepare to go back to their studio for the rest of the show.
"You're welcomed to stick around and watch," their PD informs Mingyu just as Seungkwan is ushered into makeup to fix the sauce staining his lips. He barely has a chance to crane his neck back to see if the offer was accepted, forgetting about it quickly once he's pulled back into the rush.
For the last hour and a half, it's easy for Seungkwan's mind to be occupied by ensuring they keep the momentum going. By the time it's time to say their outro, he can feel the exhaustion bleeding through him, nearly sagging in his seat when they're off the air. The grumbling in his stomach is enough to pull him toward the snack table once he's about to leave, shoving a few granola bars in his bag only to be startled by a presence watching him.
He turns around, ready to beg for forgiveness when the words are lost. Mingyu is looking at him with an eyebrow raised in amusement and a small smile on his lips. "Um," Seungkwan nearly squeaks out. "You saw nothing."
Mingyu closes his eyes with a shrug, playing into it. "What are you talking about? I haven't seen anything all day."
It makes Seungkwan laugh, his hand coming up to stifle the sound as he looks around, grateful that Soonyoung and Seokmin are nowhere to be seen. When his attention is back on Mingyu, he's still got his eyes closed. "Aish, you can open them," Seungkwan chastises lightly, reaching out to gently shove at Mingyu's chest. "I thought you'd be gone by now."
"I was told I could stick around and watch," Mingyu says, tilting his head cutely. "I hope it was okay that I did."
"Of course it is," Seungkwan says quickly, feeling heavy beneath Mingyu's attention. "It was nice having you on. I didn't get to properly say it earlier, but I'm glad you took the time to come out and have some fun and cook for us. I enjoyed it."
Mingyu's smile widens, his eyes dancing between Seungkwan's. They're closer now than they were when the conversation started, the tips of their shoes nearly touching in proximity, like a natural sort of gravitation. "You said you hated seafood?"
Seungkwan blinks in confusion, caught off guard by the sudden question. "Yeah. It's—it always tastes like ocean water and I get grossed out."
"Let me change your mind," Mingyu says quickly. "Let me cook for you."
"Cook for me?" Seungkwan repeats, wondering if he's fallen asleep in the makeup room and managed to conjure up a very realistic dream. But Mingyu is there in all his realness, standing and waiting for an answer. "I—you cooked for me already, Mingyu-ssi. You really don't have to—"
"What if I want to?"
Again, Seungkwan is left with his fluttered blinks, mouth opening and closing as he scrambles to find something to say. "You—I mean… You want to? Why?"
Mingyu shrugs, though the small smile on his face tells Seungkwan that it's less of an I don't know and more of… something else. Mingyu rocks on his heels slightly. "Because I think I can change your mind. And maybe I want to see you outside of here. Is that okay?"
Seungkwan narrows his eyes, scanning Mingyu up and down. "Is there a catch?"
"A catch? No—I mean, you just have to be willing to hang out with me I guess," Mingyu says quickly, confidence starting to chip at the edges. "But I'm not asking for anything more. I just want to cook for you. My place or your place—it's your choice. But you can say no—"
"My place," Seungkwan says over him, saving Mingyu from having to ramble any further. He seems like he's being genuine. Maybe he's that passionate about seafood—who knows, chefs are sort of weird. "I can text you the address—"
Mingyu is already pulling his phone out of his back pocket, pulling up a new contact and handing it over to Seungkwan. "I'll text you tonight, yeah? We can get all the details sorted."
"Okay," Seungkwan says softly, typing in his number and saving his name as Boo Seungkwan :) before handing the phone back. He watches as Mingyu's eyes flicker over the contact information, the corner of his lip twitching up right as he locks the phone and pockets it again. "I have to go."
"Right," Mingyu nods, hands hovering for a moment before he drops them awkwardly. "Um. Like I said, I'll text you."
"Okay," Seungkwan says again, starting to step back. He waves. "Bye, Kim Mingyu."
Mingyu's smile widens, barely dampened by his top teeth tugging his bottom lip. "Bye, Boo Seungkwan."
By some miracle, Seungkwan turns on his heel to leave without tripping. On his way home, he stares at his phone, wondering when later tonight will be.
𖧷
The thought fizzles out as Seungkwan returns home and goes through his usual routine. An easy work out in his living room, a warm shower, slipping into a baby blue pajama set, and making himself a quick and admittedly bland dinner. Jeonghan calls him while his rice is in the microwave and Seungkwan answers while he turns on the TV to watch the newest episode of a reality dating show he got sucked into on accident.
"What are you up to?" Jeonghan asks, tone singing through the phone as Seungkwan gets settled on the sofa, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder.
"Made myself dinner and I'm about to watch TV. How about you? Anything interesting?"
"Same old. Boring meeting, a photoshoot. I wore a wig—that was new. It looked terrible."
Seungkwan chuckles around a mouthful of rice. "I'm sure you pulled it off.
"Maybe," Jeonghan hums. "Tell me about your day. You had a guest on, right? How'd that go?"
"Ah, you didn't tune in?" Seungkwan teases, laughing fully when Jeonghan starts to cuss him out, quickly backtracking. "It was a good episode, he was a lot of fun to have and he cooked for us which was new."
"Who was it again?" Jeonghan asks.
"Kim Mingyu," Seungkwan tells him, the name light on his tongue. "Do you know him?"
"I've heard of him—ah, you know what! I think my mom watches him actually. Wow, that's crazy. Hold on, let me search him up—”
"No," Seungkwan says quickly, already knowing where this conversation is going. "You don't have to do that—"
"Wah," Jeonghan gasps and Seungkwan sighs. "Seungkwan, he's hot as hell—you met him?"
"Yeah. He was nice but we didn't have a lot of time to actually talk outside of the interview—” he's interrupt by his phone vibrating against his cheek, forcing him to put his food on the coffee table and regard it.
UNKNOWN
Hi! This is Mingyu :)
"—hello? Are you there?"
"Uh," Seungkwan coughs. "Speaking of, he just texted me."
"Wait—Kim Mingyu texted you?" Jeonghan repeats, nearly frantic like it's him in Seungkwan's position. "How'd he get your number? What the hell's going on?"
Seungkwan groans, falling back against the cushions on the sofa, laying flat and staring at the ceiling. "It's a long story, hyung," he whines in hopes that Jeonghan will cut him some slack.
"Well, it's a good thing Cheollie's in the studio all night and I have all the time in the world."
Seungkwan sighs, putting Jeonghan on speaker already knowing there's no way to weasel himself out of this. He quickly texts Mingyu back before he can forget, a simple hi! this is seungkwan :) before granting Jeonghan's request to explain. "He asked for my number after we finished the episode—don't gasp, he was just offering to cook seafood for me since I mentioned that I didn't like seafood. That's pretty much it, it's not all that interesting."
There's a few seconds of stretched silence. "Are you stupid?"
"Huh—what?" Seungkwan blubbers, eyes wide in shock at Jeonghan's sudden shift in tone. "What did I do?!"
"Seungkwan, no normal man would offer to cook you dinner at your apartment just because he wants you to like seafood," Jeonghan says, ignoring each and every one of Seungkwan's protests in favor of barreling on. "I think you're walking straight into a date and you don't even know."
"If it's a date I think he would have said something," Seungkwan says back, rolling his eyes even if Jeonghan can't see it. He hopes the annoyance in his tone carries the image anyway. "He probably just wants to prove he's a good cook or something, I don't know."
"Even you know that sounds dumb," Jeonghan scoffs. "He doesn't need the random validation of some random radio show host—"
"Hey!"
"I'm just saying! If he wanted to stroke his ego, I'm sure there are better places to do that."
Seungkwan huffs, refusing to let that seed be planted in his head. Though, it's difficult to do when his phone starts vibrating, a drop down notification informing him of an incoming call. "Oh, fuck. He's calling me."
"Then why are you still talking to me?!" Jeonghan scolds. "Answer!"
Before Seungkwan can listen to him, Jeonghan is already ending the call, forcing him to answer Mingyu's call with no chance to talk himself out of it. He clears his throat, smooths the fluffiness of his hair like that'll somehow matter, and answers. "Uh. Hello?"
"Seungkwan-ssi," Mingyu's voice says, a slight rasp to his tone. In the background, there's the honk of a car horn and the bustle of fabric. "Sorry for the random call, I just thought it would be easier to talk like this."
"Yeah, that's fine." Seungkwan pauses, clearing his throat as he fidgets with a loose thread on the throw pillow pulled into his lap. "Um. So… Dinner at mine, right? What day works for you?"
"I can clear up my schedule, so you tell me what works for you and I'll make sure I'm free."
Seungkwan pauses, mouth hanging open for a moment as he processes it all, Jeonghan's voice ringing around in his skull only to be cut off by his own more logical voice. Don't be ridiculous. He's just being nice. "Maybe Friday evening? Is seven too late for you?"
"If it's perfect for you, it's perfect for me," Mingyu answers with a small chuckle that makes Seungkwan smile too, ducking his head down to watch the hanging thread twirl between his fingers.
"Seven it is, then. I'll send you the address." Seungkwan hesitates before asking, "Should I buy anything? I don't want to show up empty handed to my own apartment."
"Just yourself would be enough," Mingyu says. There's no teasing in his tone, no arrogance or laughter. It's genuine. "But white wine pairs best with seafood. Pinot grigio, if that suits your taste."
"Got it," Seungkwan nods to himself, hurriedly making a note in his phone before placing it back to his ear.
A distant voice sounds somewhere near Mingyu. His words are muffled, accompanied the static of rustling until his voice is clear. "I have to get going, but I'll see you Friday, yeah?"
"Yeah—yup," Seungkwan stammers rather lamely, eyes squeezing shut as he presses a palm to his forehead, willing himself to just be cool. "See you Friday."
Right as Seungkwan thinks Mingyu is going to end the call his voice comes through unexpectedly. "Seungkwan-ssi?"
Seungkwan blinks. "Yes?"
"I'm excited to see you again."
"Oh," Seungkwan breathes out, taken aback by the sudden statement. His chest fizzles with something akin to excitement as well, wondering if the week will pass by quickly or drag on for ages in his anticipation. It's only fair to be honest. "I am, too."
"Good," Mingyu says with a small laugh, voice quieter. "Have a good night."
"You too," Seungkwan manages to say right before the call ends.
The phone slips from his hand, its clatter muted by the plush carpet it falls against as Seungkwan lets himself drop back into the sofa, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. It's not a date. It's not a date.
Though, Seungkwan can't help but wonder what it would be like if it was.
𖧷
Expectedly, the week trudges on with heavy feet bound to Seungkwan's naturally rapid pace. He does his best to ease the anticipation in hopes that he can condition himself into forgetting of his end of the week plans, prompting time to slip by quicker if he pretends to be oblivious. But his plan is ignored and the less he tries to think about it, the more he finds himself getting caught up in the daydreams of what the evening may look like.
Maybe Mingyu will show up and do exactly as he said he would: cook a simple meal like a private chef determined to complete a task. Maybe he'll push the plate toward Seungkwan, watch him take a bite, and wait for the praise before leaving promptly with his ego inflated and another person left to spill their praises to everyone they come across.
Or, maybe he'll stay. Maybe he'll stay and Seungkwan will let him chip a space into the unoccupied spaces of his apartment. Maybe he'll stay and Seungkwan will want him to stay again and again and again—
The more he thinks about that possibility, the more the anticipation morphs into fear.
Firstly, to think that Mingyu is doing more than extending a hand out in hopes of a friendship is generous and, if Seungkwan allows himself the harshness, stupid. To think that Mingyu would find him even remotely interesting enough to look at him through a rose tinted lenses nearly makes Seungkwan laugh out loud at his brief naivety, quickly pushing that thought aside for something else to worry about.
Pretending to be interesting enough in general is going to be a challenge within itself. There are no dog-eared books in his apartment, no map marked with pins to display his lack of travel. He rarely has time to keep up with the few hobbies he does have and he can already imagined the sparked conversations dimming before they have a chance to catch fire, all due to his incredible lack of experience in anything. That is, unless Mingyu is interested in dissecting anything pop culture related, though it seems unlikely, leading Seungkwan back to fearing this friendship is doomed before it can even be birthed.
Maybe cancelling is an option still—though, cancelling day of is insensitive and bound to leave some bitter feelings. He could pretend that he's sick—he has Seokmin and Soonyoung for alibis. Though that would mean informing them of his evening plans and that in itself seems like a sort of suicide. Jeonghan would never cover for him if he knew that he was trying to sabotage whatever this is before it's even started, which leaves Seungkwan will no option but to do the most terrifying thing of all: put himself out there with no glimpse into what the future holds.
Somehow, he breezes through the day's episode by the distracted skin of his teeth. If Seokmin or Soonyoung notice his mind elsewhere, they say nothing, parting with their usual goodbyes at the end of the day and leaving Seungkwan to think and think and think on his commute home until it feels like he may vomit by the time he gets home, holding a bottle of white wine like some sort of lifeline. But there is no time to sit and spiral, not when he's had all week to sit in the same thoughts. Right now, it's time to clean his apartment and himself up until everything feels like it's worthy of being perceived by Kim Mingyu.
Mingyu texts him just as Seungkwan finishes completing his small list of tasks. His phone vibrates nosily from where its perched on the corner of the sink as Seungkwan stares back at himself in the mirror. Brown hair styled carefully out of his face. A thin, light grey cardigan with the top two buttons undone some light jeans and a dark brown belt. It's a nice outfit. Simple, pretty, and put together in a way that makes him feel somewhat confident but also ridiculous at the same time, like he's trying to hard to impress someone that may not even notice.
It doesn't take long for Mingyu to announce his arrival and for Seungkwan to abandon his own pout, hurrying to buzz Mingyu up before the seconds stretch for too long. He opens his front door after counting up to one hundred, peeking his head out surprised to find no one standing there waiting yet. From the end of the hallway, the elevator doors part and Mingyu comes into view between the heavy steel.
He steps out and Seungkwan quickly sees the large insulated bag in his grasp, but is distracted by the sheer sight of the rest of him. A simple black t-shirt adorns his well sculpted torso, blue jeans hugging his long legs, and black boots stepping against the floor in long strides. His black hair is still wavy but pushed out of his face, allowing Seungkwan a clear view as he he breaks out into a smile the moment his gaze wonders forward, meeting Seungkwan's eyes. His pace quickens after that, only slowing as Seungkwan steps back to let him inside.
"Here, I can take this," Seungkwan offers, not giving Mingyu a chance to argue as he takes the (very heavy) bag from him, taking it to the kitchen island as Mingyu takes his shoes off.
"Thank you!" Mingyu calls from the short distance, coming into the open area, head turning slowly to take in his surroundings. Seungkwan wipes his hands on the front of his jeans, trying his best not to overthink every imperfection and spec of dust that may be visible. "You have a beautiful home," Mingyu compliments after a moment, raising his eyebrows when he turns to look at the kitchen with its new appliances. "Wow, and a beautiful kitchen. Do you cook?"
"Not as much as I should," Seungkwan admits with a small laugh before tilting his chin toward the insulated bag. "You brought a lot. Are you planning seven courses?"
It makes Mingyu laugh, something Seungkwan tucks into the corner of his mind for the needed reassurance. "Unfortunately I only prepped for two meals.
"Two?" Seungkwan repeats with the tilt of his head, blinking when there's a stretched silence at Mingyu simply grins at him.
"A seafood one," he explains, rounding the island, hands unzipping the bag and dipping in to start extracting its contents. "And then a non-seafood one just in case my confidence in changing your mind is too generous."
Seungkwan blinks again. "That's considerate," he says almost quietly. "You really didn't have to go through that extra trouble, though. I would have eaten it no matter what, Mingyu-ssi."
Mingyu shakes his head with the scrunch of his nose. "It's no trouble to me, really."
"Okay," Seungkwan nods. He watches Mingyu for a minute or two, pointing to one of the cabinets when Mingyu asks where he keeps his pots and pans before clearing his throat. "So… do you want me to stay out of your way or…?"
Mingyu glances up from where he's hunched over, taking out a cream, ceramic pan Seungkwan got as a housewarming gift three years ago. "I wouldn't mind the company. Gives me time to get to know you."
Seungkwan swallows, the insecurity already crawling up his throat. It's better to get it out of the way now, there's no point in pretending to be as cool as he wants to be. "I'm really not that interesting, Mingyu-ssi."
"Hyung," Mingyu corrects. "You're from '98, right? You can call me hyung, I don't mind."
"Okay, hyung," Seungkwan tries out, turning his face away to hide his blush, feeling minuscule beneath Mingyu's eyes. "I'm not as interesting as you think I am."
"Isn't that for me to find out?" Mingyu teases with the raise of an eyebrow and a drawn out blink. "And I would beg to differ."
"What, do you already know me?" Seungkwan teases back, perching himself on one of the bar stools, spinning it back and forth to keep himself from spiraling internally.
"I wasn't lying when I said I was a fan, you know."
Seungkwan pauses, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh. You—were you really?"
"Yes," Mingyu nods, the faintest hint of a blush dusted across his cheeks as he puts latex gloves on, grabbing what looks like crab legs and setting them on one of Seungkwan's wooden cutting boards. "I've been watching BooSeokSoon for years. A lot of the songs on my playlist are thanks to you three—I'd like to think it's the only reason I'm up to date with the current music trends."
Seungkwan straightens up. "Well. Now I feel a little guilty for not knowing about you before."
Mingyu smiles as he cuts the crab legs with kitchen scissors, separating the meat into a pile on the corner of the cutting board. "Well, I'm right here. You can get to know me like this."
"I don't even know what to ask," Seungkwan admits.
"Ah, but you were so prepared the other day," Mingyu says with a tsks, shaking his head in amused disappointment.
"Aish, that was different," Seungkwan whines, lips pouted as his works come out quicker. "You were there as a guest, you're here as a—"
Mingyu looks up at him with a raised brow, the scissors stilling in his grasp. "As a…?"
"House guest," Seungkwan finishes lamely, glancing down as he shifts the subject to take attention away from his burning face. "What are you making?"
"There's no official name for it, I think," Mingyu explains, luckily cutting Seungkwan some slack. "But it's a good introduction to seafood in my opinion. Pasta with a creamy sauce and crab."
"Do you do this a lot?" Seungkwan asks next. "Cook for people like this?"
Mingyu's answer is quick. "Not anymore."
"Anymore?"
"I was a private chef for a bit to pay for school and rent, but I stopped doing it right after I started my YouTube channel. It kicked off pretty quickly, so luckily I was able to pour my time into that instead."
"Ah," Seungkwan nods, leaning forward to watch as Mingyu discards the scraps into a plastic bowl that definitely doesn't belong to Seungkwan. "So now you just cook for people to prove you can make them like anything, right?"
This time, Mingyu blinks, eyebrows creased as he pulls the gloves off his hands and drops them into the bowl as well. "Well, no. No, it's… I haven't cooked for someone like this in a while, actually."
"You haven't?" Seungkwan manages to say, voice higher in pitch in disbelief. The question goes unsaid, but it echoes in Seungkwan's brain, louder and louder by the second. Why me, why me, why me?
"Ah, you're so cute," Mingyu mumbles, almost unheard as he turns to place a pan on the stove and turn the heat on. Seungkwan stares at the back of his head in disbelief, wondering if he maybe misheard. But he didn't, he knows he didn't. Still, he can't bring himself to acknowledge it, terrified of what it could mean. Luckily, Mingyu continues without any indication that he wants any acknowledgment to begin with, grabbing containers of prepped ingredients out of the bag and placing them beside the stove. "Would you like to help?"
Seungkwan perks up. "How?"
"Come here," Mingyu beckons with the tilt of his head. Seungkwan hops off the bar stool, fingertips trailing on the edge of the island until he's standing beside Mingyu. "First, we put the crab and garlic herb butter in the pan with some lemon juice. It'll add some zest and balance it out. They key is to give it some flavor other than the ocean water taste you don't like." Seungkwan follows the instructions, guided by Mingyu's gentle words and reassurance that he's doing well.
When he picks up the lemon half and squeezes it, he huffs at the few drops that managed to spill out. "Ah, it's a dry lemon," he says with a pout, looking over his shoulder at Mingyu who is hovering.
"You've got to squeeze it harder," Mingyu instructs, one hand settling on Seungkwan's waist while the other takes the lemon from Seungkwan's hand, bronze against yellow, the tendons in his hand flexing as he tightens his grip on the fruit until it drips endlessly. "See? It takes some practice."
The heat of Mingyu's body curved into his makes Seungkwan lean back absentmindedly, only aware of the way Mingyu's thumb drags across his clothed hip bone when a trill runs up his spine. His breath is caught in his throat, stomach fluttering until Mingyu is stepping back to retrieve a silicone spatula, abandoning his place against Seungkwan in favor of mixing the ingredients around until he's stepping to the side, encouraging Seungkwan to take over.
From there, it's easy to fall into Mingyu's gentle guidance, his warm hands on Seungkwan's wrist or waist any time he tells him what's next, what to do. It's short lived as Mingyu insists that he take a seat and relax while sipping some wine as Mingyu finishes up the meal. Seungkwan complies, itching to have a moment alone to catch the breath that's been stuck in his throat. He sets up the small table on his balcony, placing the wine bottle and two glasses as well as cutlery as his mind replays the pressure of the thumb on his hipbone, the sturdiness of Mingyu's towering body nearly draped over his back.
When he returns inside Mingyu is plating the pasta with careful intention, body bent as he garnishes the creamy dish with the seasoned crab as well as parsley. He straightens, catching Seungkwan's eye with a grin. "Are you ready to have your life changed?"
Seungkwan snorts, arms crossed as he shrugs. "Yah, you're getting sort of cocky, hyung."
"I'm confident in my craft," Mingyu says, picking up the plates and walking around the kitchen with a sort of self assured elegance. "Are we eating outside?"
"Yes," Seungkwan says after a second, jumping into action to open the back door and lead Mingyu out. The lights strung up offer enough of a dimmed golden glow to see their surroundings.
The plates are placed with care, Mingyu gesturing for Seungkwan to sit first and following him after, promptly pouring wine into each of their glasses before sitting back with a close mouthed smile. "Eat well, Seungkwan."
Though it's a bit intimidating to be observed like this, Seungkwan shoves the slight nerves aside and picks up the fork laid out in a napkin, making sure to get a good bite of pasta and crab. The moment the flavors settle on his tongue, he lets out a laugh in disbelief. "Wow—you… You're allowed to be cocky."
Mingyu beams, clapping his hands delicately in a way that is far too endearing for Seungkwan to not giggle at. "I told you I'd change your mind!"
"My doubts are gone," Seungkwan says with a nod. "I feel like I should pay you for this—really. This is too good to be free."
"This is enough," Mingyu tells him easily. "You enjoying it is a reward in itself."
Seungkwan finds himself staring at Mingyu, admiring the canines in his mouth making their appearance as he eats; the way he straightens up, showcasing his broad shoulders; the way his eyes reflect back the lighting with an added gleam. "Can I ask for one more thing?"
"Anything," Mingyu replies instantly, perking up like an eager dog awaiting a command.
"Tell me about yourself," Seungkwan urges, desperate to find out more about this ridiculously handsome man who insisted on cooking dinner for him out of the kindness of his own heart. There's got to be a catch, something that makes it click.
But Seungkwan is met with the brutal realization that Mingyu is genuinely, to his core, a good person. He shares trivial details about himself without hesitation. Seungkwan learns that Mingyu is full of all things joyful and hopeful. He loves romance movies, the more cliche the better. If he were to live anywhere, it would be in Malibu because he swears the warmth of the sun is gentler. There's a journal he keeps in his nightstand filled with memories he is particularly fond of to remind him of all the good things on a bad day.
Seungkwan finds himself swooning, completely entranced by the sole idea of Kim Mingyu. The look must be evident on his face as Mingyu's words trail off—a story about the first meal he cooked with his grandmother—until he's grinning. "Am I charming you?"
"Charming me?" Seungkwan repeats with a small laugh hidden behind the back of his hand. He glances up, the fiery blush on his cheeks only amplified when he's met with Mingyu staring at him fondly, chin propped up in his hand as his brown eyes flicker across Seungkwan's features and the corners of his mouth curve with a soft smile. "Why would you need to do that?"
"So I have a chance to take you on a real date," Mingyu says so simply that Seungkwan nearly misses it.
But he hears it loud and clear. There's no chance to disregard it, to pretend like it was lost in the clattering of background noise. "On a date?" he repeats again, dumbfounded. "With me?"
Mingyu makes a show of looking around. "Who else?"
This time Seungkwan's laugh is loud, on the edge of disbelief as he shakes his head. "I don't know. Anyone else, maybe."
Mingyu's face falls as he leans back, hand dropping from his chin. "Anyone else? I… I'm not interested in anyone else, Seungkwan. It's you, that's it. That's why I'm here."
It's still hard to believe even as it comes from Mingyu directly. Seungkwan stares at him, eyes widened as his brain stumbles over what to say. "But… why? Why me?"
"Why not?" Mingyu answers with a small laugh. "You're funny, you're witty. You're beautiful and you're just… You're such a light, Seungkwan. How could anyone not be drawn to you?"
"You're…" Seungkwan looks down, a breath fluttering out of his mouth. "You really know what to say, don't you?"
"I'm just being honest with you." Seungkwan presses his lips together, bearing the courage to meet Mingyu's gaze. He's waiting patiently, genuinely. Every part of Seungkwan trembles in terror of this—something seemingly too good to be true, something he hates to even think about in such a way. But he can feel the ache of a heartbreak already, the burning of tear tracks against his skin like a prophecy. Sensing his hesitance, Mingyu reaches over, placing a gentle hand on Seungkwan's. "I'm in no rush. We go at your pace—I don't expect anything from you. Even if we're just friends, I'm grateful with just that. But I… I want you in my life, Seungkwan. However I can have you."
"Hyung," Seungkwan whispers, voice caught in his throat, strings in his chest pulling, drawn toward Mingyu. "You're too good for me—”
Mingyu shakes his head. "No, Seungkwan. Don't do that, baby. Let me—let me show you, yeah? Give me a chance."
Through the terror and uncertainty, Seungkwan nods. For Mingyu, maybe he can try.
𖧷
Seungkwan keeps it all to himself, tucking Mingyu in his front pocket just in case things go terrible wrong, just in case he fucks it all up like he tends to do and he has to go back to his solitude with his tail tucked between his legs.
It takes a text from Hansol two weeks later to shift Seungkwan's axis. It's a habit, one that is taking motion before he can try to guide it elsewhere. When Hansol arrives, they fall into the usual routine for what seems like a fleeting moment until Seungkwan's thoughts shift toward Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu. As much as he tries to push it aside, to remind himself that there is nothing set in stone there, that he's allowed to have this if he chooses, he can't help but drift back to Mingyu. He had texted him just before this, informing him that he would be having dinner with a friend and away from his phone. He wished Seungkwan a good night and promised to call him in the morning. Seungkwan knows it's a promise he's going to keep.
Shattering the webbed thoughts, Hansol pulls away from where he was previously kissing at Seungkwan's neck, his straight brows creasing slightly. "You okay?"
Seungkwan blinks, yanked back into the moment, very aware of Hansol's erection against his hip as he hovers over Seungkwan on the sofa. "Yeah," he says eventually, not sounding believing in the slightest. "I'm good."
"You're not even hard," Hansol points out, glancing down at the flat plains of Seungkwan's sweatpants. "If you're not in the mood that's okay—"
"No," Seungkwan says quickly, hands on the back of Hansol's neck to keep him from going anywhere. "I'm just stressed, but I can help you. I'll help you."
He delivers on his promise well, finishing Hansol off until he's slumped on top of Seungkwan for all of five seconds. He's up quickly as he always is, hopping back into his briefs and jeans. "You sure you're okay?" Hansol asks again, just as he's turning his body toward the front door.
Seungkwan straightens his wrinkled shirt, shifting as the loosened collar slides over his shoulder. "It's just stress, really."
Hansol drops it easily. Though, a part of Seungkwan still wishes he would ask, would stay until he got a real answer out of him. But he knows Hansol is only respecting his privacy, accepting the answer for what it is and nothing more. "Alright. Take care of yourself, Boo."
"Thanks," Seungkwan mutters, shutting his eyes as the front door opens and closes.
𖧷
The guilt sits heavily on Seungkwan's chest through the night and following day. If Seokmin and Soonyoung notice, they don't say anything. Everything outside of the torment in Seungkwan's mind is so eerily normal that he wonders if he's maybe starting to go a little crazy.
But like a flickering light in all the crowded darkness, Mingyu navigates his way into Seungkwan's day, calling him after work and asking if he's free. And Seungkwan is free, embarrassingly so, later finding himself in the passenger seat of Mingyu's nice car.
"The subway isn't up to your standards?" Seungkwan jokes as the tip of his finger traces the tracing of the leather beside his thigh.
"Having a car is easier sometimes," Mingyu answers with a slight whine. "This was my first big splurge, I promise I'm not an asshole."
Seungkwan lets his head fall back against the seat, looking at Mingyu's side profile bathed in the redness of the traffic light. "I don't think you could be an asshole even if you tried, hyung."
Mingyu's smile is soft, eyes glancing at Seungkwan just as the light turns green and the cars ahead of them start to inch forward in anticipation. He reaches over the center consol, fingers brushing against the top of Seungkwan's hand until its flipped and their palms are pressed together, fingers intertwined.
After several minutes, they arrive at a river almost always occupied with couples and friends enjoying themselves. Tonight, however, it's nearly vacant, only joined by the occasional jogger or group walking through. Mingyu is out of the car with intention, the trunk popped open as Seungkwan hurries to get out and join him, surprised by the sheer amount of things in the back.
"What's all this?" Seungkwan asks even though he has an idea.
"Have you ever eaten by the river?" Mingyu questions back, hauling a tote bag over his shoulder and taking out the same insulated bag that was perched on Seungkwan's island only weeks ago.
"I've only ever jogged around here," Seungkwan admits.
Mingyu beams, closing the trunk with the press of a button, reaching out with his free hand to intertwine their fingers again. "Come on. I'll show you my favorite spot."
They walk through the grass until they're a good distance away from the parked car, finally stopping once they're beside a tree with generous leaves, offering a hint of privacy. Mingyu is quick to set things down, grabbing a rolled picnic blanket from the tote bag and laying it out before working quickly to set up an array of snacks. Chopped fruits and vegetables, neatly wrapped sandwiches, several convenience store snacks, water and the same wine they drank at Seungkwan's apartment.
He's kneeling on the corner of the blanket when he's done, looking up at Seungkwan with a shy sort of expression. "I hope it's enough. I wasn't sure what to bring but wanted it to be a surprise, so I tried getting a good selection."
"This is… Mingyu hyung, this is more than enough," Seungkwan manages to breathe out as he sits, taken aback by all the effort and planning. "You didn't have to do this for me—"
"But I wanted to," Mingyu says gently, settling so that their thighs are pressed together.
Everything in Seungkwan wants to argue and say that he isn't worth all the hassle, isn't worth the time and effort, but the words die on his tongue when Mingyu tilts his chin toward the view in front of them. All the lights of the city reflect in the rippling water of the river, the image glimmering like stars plucked from the sky and dipped into the surface, bleeding their colors for only them to see. The moon is hidden behind thick clouds threatening rain, but kind enough to hold off for them in this moment. Seungkwan sighs. "It's so beautiful."
"Isn't it?" Mingyu whispers, taking a glance at Seungkwan as he leans back on his palms. "I knew you'd enjoy it. Beautiful things are drawn to beautiful things, haven't you heard?"
Seungkwan laughs bashfully, lightly shoving Mingyu's shoulder enough for him to lose balance, nearly toppling over as he joins Seungkwan in laughter. The aching hunger in Seungkwan's stomach is enough for him to start picking apart the neatly displayed food, settling on a bag of honey chips and possibly the best sandwich he's ever had in his life.
Like this, they talk about anything and everything. Seungkwan tells Mingyu about a new segment they're considering—something Soonyoung came up with involving prank calling celebrities. Seokmin says it's absolutely going to be a liability issue, so the chances of it going anywhere are slim to none. Mingyu tells Seungkwan about the meetings he's been to, how he's considering Italy for his next trip on his traveling series.
"There's still two months before I would go," Mingyu explains, handing Seungkwan a particularly ripe strawberry. "But I'm already planning on what to do and what I want to see. There's a lot of restaurants I've been told I need to try. And even cafes and stuff, I get all sorts of recommendations on my videos, so there's already so many things I want to squeeze in while I'm there and—ah." He pauses with the subtle shake of his head. 'Sorry, I'm rambling."
"Keep going," Seungkwan encourages, eager to hear every thought running through Mingyu's mind. "You're passionate, there's nothing wrong with that. It's, um. It's attractive."
Mingyu perks up, spine straightening as he looks at Seungkwan with wide eyes. "Oh—really?"
"Come on," Seungkwan says with a huffed laugh, rolling his eyes and focusing on the swaying water ahead. "You know how people see you, hyung."
"But what about you?"
Seungkwan pauses, eyebrows knitted together. "What about me?"
"How do you see me?" Mingyu asks, shyness laced in between every word even as his gaze has yet to waver.
It's a simple question, one that Seungkwan knows the answer to right as Mingyu asks. He sees Mingyu as someone nearly unobtainable, so close yet so far from reach. Someone who is full of all good things, all things Seungkwan isn't sure he deserves. Most of all, he sees how much Mingyu wants him. The tenderness in his eyes, the way he's hanging onto the silence in hopes of receiving an answer. He sees it and wonders what he's done to be on the receiving end of all this desire. "You scare me a little," he admits quietly, backtracking as Mingyu's face falls. "Not you, hyung. I mean, this scares me. I'm just… Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me?"
"Ah, Seungkwan," Mingyu says softly, reaching over in the small space between them to cup Seungkwan's face in his palm, thumb dragging against the high point of his cheek. Seungkwan sighs, eyes fluttering shut at the warmth. "I've never wanted anything more."
When Mingyu kisses him, it starts with the brush of their lips as Mingyu tilts his head, nose trailing lightly on Seungkwan's skin until his patient wears thin. Seungkwan tilts his chin up, catching Mingyu's mouth in a proper kiss, their lips fitting together seamlessly. The heat of Mingyu's skin radiates into Seungkwan, down to his core as he exhales, body melting into Mingyu's as one of his hands settles on Seungkwan's lower back and carefully urging Seungkwan onto his lap. His knees are bracketing Mingyu's outer thighs as he arcs his back, curving into Mingyu and fitting against him until their chests are pressed together. Mingyu's head is tilted back, giving way for Seungkwan to thread his fingers through the black hair, gasping when Mingyu's thumb drags across his bare hip exposed by his shirt rucked up just enough to show the thin stripe of skin above his waistband.
It's then that Mingyu uses the opportunity of Seungkwan's slack mouth to lick into him, kissing Seungkwan to the point of devouring him. Every gasp drawn from Seungkwan burns his lungs, hands grasping Mingyu's face in desperation the hotter his core becomes, the more he melts into the affection and addictive sensation of being wanted just as desperately.
Coldness pelts down from the heavy clouds above, breaking them away from each other with heads tossed back toward the sky only to be met with the sudden downpour of rain. Seungkwan's startled gasp is accompanied by Mingyu's cackling laughter as they scramble up, hurriedly tossing all their trash and leftovers into the bags, the picnic blanket bunched up in haste as they sprint away and toward the car with amused shouts. The items are tossed in the backseat quickly and Seungkwan's laughter dies into spaced chuckles as he turns to look at Mingyu.
Through the wet hair hanging in his face, Mingyu's eyes find Seungkwan's, the act of getting into the dry shelter forgotten as he pulls Seungkwan in by his wrist, holds his face in his hands, and kisses him beneath the pouring rain.
𖧷
After what Seungkwan considers to be their first date but isn't all too sure, a new Mingyu is unlocked that slips into his world so seamlessly he doesn't question it until he realizes that his days have been brighter, filled to the brim with all things Mingyu. Morning texts and calls greet him as he gets ready for work, wishing him a good day and always with a promise to either talk later or meet up, even if it's just for an hour or two. He memorizes Seungkwan's coffee order, orders it for him beforehand so by the time Seungkwan arrives at the cafe at his normal time, it's ready to go and paid for. There are prepped meals in Seungkwan's fridge that are dropped off at the beginning of the week to make sure he's taking the time to eat something that isn't just microwaved rice packs. There are pieces of Mingyu in everything Seungkwan sees and does, everything drenched in a rose tint that leaves him lighter on his feet.
Seokmin is the first to say something, waiting as Seungkwan finishes suggesting the third love song in a row and they're off air. "Well," he starts slowly. "You've been in a better mood lately."
"What are you talking about?" Seungkwan says as nonchalantly as he can, pretending to go through his notes that he doesn't really need. "I'm always in a good mood."
Soonyoung laughs out loud. "Even you know that's not true."
Seungkwan grumbles, shooting him a dirty look. "Do I really need to explain myself for being happy? Life has been good, what can I say? I'm just… I'm enjoying myself more lately. That's all."
Though narrowing his eyes unconvinced, Seokmin drops it.
After they finish their day, the source of his brighter days calls with the invite to come over for the night. Seungkwan agrees easily, hurrying home to get himself together before taking the subway despite Mingyu's offers to give him a ride. Like this, he has the chance to call Jeonghan on his commute over, finding the courage to share what he's been up to.
"I told you it was a date!" Jeonghan nearly yells into his ear.
"Well, no," Seungkwan says with the roll of his eyes. "It wasn't a date, it was like… A pre-date? Either way, we've been seeing each other for almost a month and… Ah, hyung. It's so crazy."
"Oh, Seungkwannie," Jeonghan says with a coo. "You really like him, don't you?"
Seungkwan closes his eyes with a sigh, leaning back until his head hits the white wall behind him. "I'm gonna end up fucking things up."
"Why are you saying that?" Jeonghan snaps. "No, you're not gonna fuck things up. Why do you do that, huh? You can't let yourself have a good thing but the second you have the opportunity sabotage yourself you take it—"
"It's not like I try to," Seungkwan tries to explain. It had been like this with Hansol, too. He latched on too much, was so terrified of the possibility of the end that he fast tracked it without meaning to, too caught up in all life's quickness and the future that the present was nearly lost on him. And even after, instead of moving forward, he moved back. His own worst enemy stares back at him in every reflection. "It just happens."
"Then stop letting it happen," Jeonghan tells him like scolding a child. "Don't just give up before you've even tried. You broke things off with Hansol, right?"
Seungkwan swallows, wondering what exactly would be considered breaking things off. "Sort of. We haven't talked in a while—"
"Make sure you break it off, like actually. It's gonna come back to bite you in the ass if you don't."
Seungkwan sighs again, knowing that he's probably right. "It's not official between Mingyu and me, you know."
There's a pause and for a moment Seungkwan is sure that Jeonghan hung up on him. "If you found out Mingyu was sleeping with someone right now, would you be upset?"
The thought of it yanks an ugly ache from Seungkwan's chest down to his stomach. "I don't know. Probably."
"Mm," Jeonghan hums. If he was there, he'd probably have a smug smile on his face, look Seungkwan up and down with a stare that says that's what I thought without actually saying it out loud. "Think about that the next time Hansol texts you."
With that, Seungkwan stop nears and their phone call ends.
When he makes it to Mingyu's apartment door, he's greeted with a kiss from Mingyu in his sweatpants, t-shirt, and a striped red and white apron stained with what looks like flour. "You found your way," he says with a grin, moving aside to let Seungkwan cross the threshold.
"Somehow I managed to not get lost in that maze of a lobby," Seungkwan says back. "Seriously, why are there so many couches down there? Who even sits on them?"
Mingyu considers this, head tilting in thought as he hums. "You know what… I don't think I've ever seen anyone use them."
Seungkwan laughs, pushing at Mingyu's shoulder and looking around to take in the surroundings.
Mingyu's apartment is nice. Bigger than Seungkwan's more lived in by the looks of it. His personality is decorated in every inch of the space. Framed culinary magazines and books decorate the small hallway that takes him from the entry way into the main area. There's a bookshelf with several cookbooks tucked between classic literature and art. The kitchen is nearly twice the size of Seungkwan's. Two stoves, two ovens within the cabinets. The deep sink is made of stainless steel, the same color as the fridge framed in between cabinets as well.
The living room is warm in decorations and lighting. A brown and leather sofa faces the large television mounted into the wall. A green and white checkered blanket is draped across a matching arm chair and the coffee table is clear except for a round vase of flowers and stacked coasters from different countries.
"Did you decorate yourself?" Seungkwan finds himself asking, gravitating toward the kitchen gallery wall where menus in different languages are framed in black.
"Sort of," Mingyu says, already going back to the mixer and bowls splayed out on the vast, marble kitchen island. "My friend, Minghao, he's an interior decorator. He lives in China but when he visits I always have a mood-board waiting for him and he makes it come to life. " He gestures toward the area of the dining room and its oval table and mid-century chairs, all on top of an abstract pattern of burnt orange, dark red, and off white. "That's the last project he tackled the last time he visited. Next time, we're gonna see if we can find any wall decor to hang up. Maybe even a light to go over the table."
Seungkwan nods, fascinated by the amount of effort Mingyu has put into his home. He pauses, a forgotten task suddenly coming to the front of his mind. "Ah, shit," he mumbles, pulling out his phone only to find the missed call from Junhui still lingering in his notification bar right beside a text from Hansol sent only ten minutes ago: u free? that goes ignored and unanswered. "I was supposed to call my friend earlier and I completely forgot—"
"Go ahead," Mingyu tells him with a smile. "I have all this to bake anyway."
Seungkwan shoots him a grateful smile as he calls Junhui back, the guilt settling when Junhui insists that it's okay. He paces around the apartment, listening as Junhui tells him about the horse riding lessons he's been taking for the last couple of weeks. In return, he tells Junhui about his recent journey into seafood, careful not to share so much just in case Mingyu is listening in.
"Ah—I'm telling you, you would really like that restaurant I was telling you about!" Junhui says, excitement turning into disappointment when he remembers the chance of Seungkwan going there anytime soon is slim.
When they end the call, Seungkwan comes back into the kitchen, allowing himself to press his cheek to Mingyu's back, draping himself along his tall frame and holding his waist. Mingyu chuckles, reaching down to squeeze Seungkwan's hand before returning back to whatever he was mixing. "Everything okay?"
"I miss my friend," Seungkwan sighs wistfully. "He keeps talking about this restaurant in China he wants me to try and I get sad because I wish I could just… drop everything and go so I can see why he gets so excited."
Mingyu straightens up. "Did he say the name of it?" Seungkwan repeats it back, dropping his hold from Mingyu in favor of peering at the cakes cooling in their small tins and what looks like home made whipped cream in a bowl, partially aware of Mingyu jotting something down on a notepad beside the fridge before coming back to dip his finger inside the whipped mixture. "Try it," he says, coaxing Seungkwan forward with the rise of his brows. Seungkwan complies, letting his mouth drop, eyes on Mingyu's as he leans forward. Mingyu wipes it across Seungkwan's mouth with a quick hand, quickly shattering what could have been a sexy moment and laughing when Seungkwan gasps in surprise.
"Yah! What the hell?!" Seungkwan grumbles through a laugh, reaching for the bowl even as Mingyu's body blocks it. "That's not fair! It's my turn—"
He's cut off as Mingyu holds his jaw in one hand, bending down to lick the frosting off Seungkwan's mouth, the action turning into a heated kiss as his sweet tongue breaks the seam of Seungkwan's lips.
Seungkwan's lower back is pressed to the edge of a counter, one hand curling at Mingyu's nape and the over dragging down over the toned muscles of his chest, clutching at his apron with gasps tumbling out of his mouth as Mingyu's mouth nips at his jaw, trailing down his neck until Seungkwan's eyes are fluttering in pleasure.
"Hyung," Seungkwan whimpers, shuddering when Mingyu's hand wanders down, palming at Seungkwan's ass and pushing him closer.
"Can hyung make you feel good, Seungkwannie?" Mingyu asks, lips pressed to the corner of Seungkwan's wet mouth. "Please?"
The nod Seungkwan give is clumsy, his chest heaving with every breath as Mingyu's hands touch every part of him, palms beneath his shirt, on the heated skin. On his neck, pressed against his pulse. And finally, unbuttoning his jeans, fingers sliding between the flaps of the denim and the velvety softness of his boxer briefs. The pushing of his palm is firm again Seungkwan's already aching erection, eliciting a high noise that punches out of Seungkwan's chest as he tosses his head back, baring his neck for Mingyu's canines to scratch, the subtle hues of pain adding to the pleasure.
The absence of Mingyu's mouth is followed by a dull thud and when Seungkwan opens his half lidded gaze, he finds Mingyu on his knees, pressing wet kisses to the skin of Seungkwan's hips exposed by Mingyu's hands pulling the band down.
"Oh god," Seungkwan mutters, drawn into the sight of Mingyu and his cheeks splotches with arousal, the way he looks up and his brown eyes glimmer beneath the artificial lights of the kitchen. His tousled hair, the wetness of his mouth—it's all enough for Seungkwan to nearly black out. "Hyung—please."
Mingyu's grin is lazy, sultry in an effortless way. He leans forward, nosing down Seungkwan's navel, teeth snagging on the elastic as he opens his mouth and bites down on the fabric, pulling it lower and lower until Seungkwan's erection is freed.
Every movement is firm and drawn out—his breath hot against Seungkwan's cock, hand palming at the base as Seungkwan leaks precum, unable to keep his eyes off the sight below.
"So pretty," Mingyu hums with a whisper that rings in the air. "You look so pretty for hyung."
Seungkwan's fingers thread through the back of Mingyu's hair, gently forcing his head to tilt back, mouth parting as he looks up at Seungkwan. Slowly, Mingyu takes a hold of his hips, inches forward until his tongue is flush to Seungkwan's cock, licking up and up before circling the head.
Seungkwan's broken moan is nearly lost on him as Mingyu takes him into his mouth, the heat wet choking Seungkwan until he's cursing, fingers curling in Mingyu's hair. Everything is amplified in an unfamiliar way. Every flick of Mingyu's tongue, the way one hand kneads at Seungkwan's thigh and ass, pushing him closer and closer until every thrust of Seungkwan's hips only pushes his cock further into Mingyu's mouth.
The curling heat in Seungkwan's gut rises quickly, ignited further with each passing second until the tips of Mingyu's fingers dip between his cheeks, punching his orgasm out of him suddenly and forcefully.
Mingyu swallows him up, working Seungkwan through his orgasm until his thighs are shaking, nearly collapsing onto the floor of it wasn't for Mingyu standing and holding him, placing tamed and soft kisses on nearly every inch of Seungkwan's face until his voice finds him once again.
"Let me," he tries, fingers weakly brushing against Mingyu's straining erection in an attempt to give back.
But Mingyu shakes his head, holds Seungkwan's hand in his own and kisses his knuckles, eyes finding Seungkwan's dazed ones. "It's okay, I'm okay. I wanted to do it for you."
Before Seungkwan can think to argue, Mingyu is nestling his nose against Seungkwan's temple. "Let's watch a movie and eat. I worked hard on these for you."
With no energy to put up a fight or be stubborn, Seungkwan clings onto Mingyu as he prepares a plate with two pieces cake with whipped cream and strawberries. It seems like a challenge, working around Seungkwan hanging off of him with arms wrapped around Mingyu's neck, cheek pressed to his chest, but if it bothers Mingyu in the slightest he doesn't show it. Instead, he makes sure to press his lips to Seungkwan's head, hold his lower back if he had to lean over to grab something, and shuffles them over into the living room until Seungkwan is dropping against the cushions, melting into the crook between the back of the sofa and the armrest. Mingyu is beside him, the plate balanced on this thigh as he alternates feeding Seungkwan and himself bites as they watch a romance film from nearly two decades ago.
When Mingyu asks him to spend the night, it only makes sense to say yes. It's late by the time the film ends and the last thing Seungkwan wants to do is walk to the subway and force his eyes open against the harsh lights. That and he has a feeling if he separates from Mingyu right now, he might die. Metaphorically. Maybe. It's best not to test that theory, really.
Mingyu is quick to provide Seungkwan with a set of pajamas that are most definitely going to be loose on his frame. He's proven right in the bathroom when he puts them on and the hem of the pants pool around his feet, reminding him that Mingyu is a good several centimeters taller than him. He's interrupted by a knock, answered as he calls out that Mingyu can come in.
"How cute," Mingyu coos upon seeing Seungkwan, eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiles, holding Seungkwan's face in his hands like he's something precious despite his pout that isn't doing him any favors at proving him wrong. Mingyu giggles, kissing the tip of Seungkwan's nose before dropping his hands to open the cabinet beneath the sink. "I was just gonna tell you that there's some skincare stuff down here—I know you mentioned that you break out when you eat sweets sometimes."
Seungkwan blinks, eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he sees the exact skincare products he has at home neatly organized right here in front of his eyes. Everything is new, unopened. "Where did you get all of this?"
"Oh, I made a note the last time I went to your place," Mingyu says simply, like it's the standard thing to do. "I made sure to buy it all in case you ever came over so you wouldn't have to worry about taking your things back and forth, you know? That way it's all here and you're set."
With that, he gives Seungkwan a quick smile before walking back out, leaving Seungkwan stunned and nearly breathless. It takes him several minutes to gather himself, walking back toward Mingyu's bedroom and finding him already nestled beneath the thick duvet, his bare torso and chest on display with the blanket covering his waist and legs. The nerves kick in for a moment, Seungkwan completely intimidated by the image of Mingyu being so effortlessly… hot.
Though, the intimidation fades when he's settling into the empty side of the bed and Mingyu accidentally elbows him in the side in an attempt to cuddle. He apologizes until Seungkwan is kissing him, laughing into his mouth and teasing him for having the body of a god and the grace of a fawn. From there, it's easy to meld into the warmth of Mingyu, eyes fluttering shut with ease unfelt in years.
𖧷
With Mingyu, life seems to be filled with a series of highs, all aiming toward the sky in a way that is a little terrifying. From this high up, the impact of a fall would be critical. But he's still soaring and the sky only seems endless as the days pass. Going on the second month of Mingyu seamlessly slotting himself into Seungkwan's life, he lets himself be more open.
During a break at work, Mingyu calls him. Seungkwan answers without looking over his shoulder, smiling despite himself when he's greeted with a sweet tone and pet name that shouldn't make him blush as much as it does. "Jagiya, how's your day been?"
"Good, good," Seungkwan tells him. "How about you? Is Italy officially a-go?"
"Two weeks and I'll be on a plane to Rome," Mingyu tells him proudly. "But we can talk about it over lunch—I can stop by when you're done for the day and pick you up."
"Sounds like a plan," Seungkwan says, glancing over his shoulder when he hears Soonyoung's boisterous voice carrying toward him. "I'll see you in a bit, Gyu."
"Can't wait," Mingyu sings, cut short by Seungkwan hanging up as Soonyoung approaches him.
"Seungkwan-ah!" Soonyoung beams, all of his straight teeth staring right at Seungkwan. "Seokmin and I are going for beers after this—what do you say?"
Seungkwan tsks, scrunching his noise in disappointment. "Ah, I can't today. I'm having lunch with a friend."
"Aw," Soonyoung pouts. "Tell Jeonghan hyung I said hi, then."
Seungkwan presses his lips together in something of a smile before Soonyoung is off to raid the snack table, the conversation forgotten by the time they're back in their seats and on air.
As promised, Mingyu's car is parked in the parking garage, blending into all the other black and polished vehicles around. Seungkwan slides into the passenger seat, already anticipating the way Mingyu leans over the center console to kiss him briefly before focusing on getting out of there. He looks handsome like this, casual and relaxed. Sunglasses perched on the slope of his nose; the perm in his hair flattening into something more straight, pushed out of his face loosely. His long sleeve, red and blue striped shirt is slightly baggy on his frame, the hem of his sleeve hanging over his hand resting on the bottom of the steering wheel. Seungkwan turns before he's caught staring, but not before pushing his palm beneath Mingyu's to thread their fingers together.
They try a newer restaurant this time around, one that they've never been to but that looks promising. There's nearly no reviews, something that almost deters Seungkwan but makes Mingyu more insistent on visiting, claiming that it was their responsibility to decide for themselves if it was worth the visit, not some strangers on the internet.
It's a smaller restaurant than those in the heart of the city, serving lunch specials as well as different styles of coffee that Seungkwan spends a good five minutes looking over in curiosity before ultimately deciding to go for his usual order. The moment they find seats, Seungkwan hears the ring of a familiar gasp.
"Is that Seungkwan? What kind of coincidence is this!"
Mingyu blinks, peering somewhere behind Seungkwan. "Oh? It looks like those people recognize you, Seungkwan."
Seungkwan turns and finds Jeonghan waving at him with his fingers, Seungcheol standing close behind him with what could only be described as a sheepish and ashamed look. Seungkwan tongues his cheek with a smile, nodding at Jeonghan as they near. "What are the odds," he deadpans only for Jeonghan's smile to widen.
"Cheollie and I were in the area," Jeonghan starts with his usual, bullshitting charm, looking more at Mingyu than at Seungkwan. "And we stopped here for a quick bite."
"I'm sure you did," Seungkwan hums, glancing over at Seungcheol's plastered smile, always dragged into Jeonghan's bullshit but somehow happy to be there regardless. "Seungcheol hyung, nice to see you."
Seungcheol winks, his dimple flashing with his close mouthed smile. "Likewise."
"Do you mind if we join you?" Jeonghan has the audacity to ask, beaming when Mingyu nods and makes space. Jeonghan plops in the seat beside Seungkwan and across from Seungcheol. "Oh, I'm being rude. Hi, I'm Yoon Jeonghan, Seungkwan's friend. This is my boyfriend, Seungcheol—"
"Oh," Mingyu gasps, eyes widening as he looks over at Seungcheol and then Jeonghan. "S.Coups, right? And YSL's Jeonghan?"
Seungkwan nearly bashes his head into the table. "You know them?"
"I know of them," Mingyu explains quickly. "I mean, a lot of people do. I'm a big fan of your work, both of you."
Seungcheol snaps his fingers, pointing at Mingyu. "My mom watches you! I'm pretty sure you helped her perfect her buchimgae—wah, she's loves you. I'll have to get your autograph if you don't mind—"
"Not at all!" Mingyu says quickly. "I'm sure we can ask someone for a pen…"
The moment Seungcheol and Mingyu are up in search for a pen, Seungkwan slowly turns to Jeonghan. "You followed me here, didn't you."
Jeonghan grins, all his straight teeth on display, almost like they're begging to be knocked out. "Well, why else would we have each other's locations turned on?"
"Come on—"
"Is it so bad I want to meet the guy you're dating?" Jeonghan retorts, raising an eyebrow when Seungkwan goes silent. "You're usually more open about this stuff. At least you were with—" he cuts himself off, lips pressed together even though Seungkwan knows how it's going to end. At least you were with Hansol.
"This is different," Seungkwan tells him quietly, scared to even say it out loud. "It's… I don't know how to describe it, but it's just different."
Jeonghan doesn't push it, even though everything on his face says he desperately wants to. By the time Mingyu and Seungcheol come back, Seungcheol's got a paper with Mingyu's signature in his hand, showing it to Jeonghan with pride. After their food is on the table and the conversation bounces back and forth comfortably, Seungkwan relaxes, ankle resting against Mingyu's beneath the table as they enjoy the company for what it is.
The food ends up being good, something Seungkwan is partially surprised about but grateful they went out of their way to try it instead of going to a place they tend to frequent. As their meal wraps up, someone approaches the table, quickly recognized as the owner by Mingyu who stands to shake his hand and thank him for the food and service.
"My cooks are big fans," the man says. "And I thought I should say hello and thank you for giving us a chance. Business has been slow, so it means a lot for you to be here. I wanted to give you your meal for free as a thank you."
Mingyu shakes his head, his kindness etched on his face as he declines. "No, it's okay, really. I'll be paying in full and—would it be okay if I shared this place on my Instagram story?"
"That would be amazing," the man nods, holding Mingyu's hand in both of his in gratitude. "Thank you, thank you. Please, let us cover your meal—"
"Your kindness is enough," Mingyu tells him genuinely. Jeonghan looks at Seungkwan, eyebrows raised and mouth falling, evidently impressed with everything that Kim Mingyu is made of. "I'll be back," Mingyu says, hand on Seungkwan's shoulder to excuse himself. "I want to thank the cooks personally."
With that, he's following the owners back inside. Seungcheol raises a thick eyebrow at Seungkwan. "Damn. Your boyfriend is great."
"He's the one," Jeonghan says, holding Seungkwan's bicep with a vice grip. "Don't you dare let him go, Boo Seungkwan. He's the one."
Seungkwan swallows, a panic starting to prickle in his chest.
There's no way he isn't going to fuck this up.
𖧷
Mingyu's trip to Italy approaches and, despite the knowledge that Mingyu will be returning, Seungkwan finds himself dreading the day a little more with each passing second. The realization that he'll be Mingyu-less for a week hits him like a ton of bricks in more ways than one, triggering a fight or flight that he teeters between more than he'd like to admit. It feels ridiculous, standing on the edge like this, knowing what waits for him below is a cushioned fall. Still, he conjures up an ugly sight of thorns and nails pointed up toward him, yelling to stay away, to turn back.
Two days before he leaves for Italy, Mingyu invited Seungkwan over to his apartment for what turns out to be a surprise dinner.
An array of all sorts of dishes are displayed on the table, each one presented like an image plucked straight out of a culinary magazine. It isn't until Seungkwan notices a particular dish that he begins to piece things together.
"Is this…" he gasps, the tips of his fingers pressed to his lips as he looks at Mingyu and his bashful smile. "You… Did you talk to Junhui?"
"Here and there," Mingyu admits. "It would've been hard to recreate the menu without his help and passion."
Seungkwan blinks in disbelief, shaking his head as he wraps his minds around the reality around him. "Oh my god, hyung. This is—this is insane."
"I know it's not like the real place," Mingyu starts, words quick on his tongue with nerves. "But hopefully it'll be enough to finally be able to talk to your friend about— I know you said you wanted to understand his excitement, so for now, maybe this will help. And in the future we can go try the real thing with Junhui and everything."
The future.
Mingyu is thinking about the future with him.
Mingyu is plucking Seungkwan's wants, wishes, and turning them into realities, displayed out in front of him like the heart on his sleeve, the same one that asked Seungkwan for the chance to show him that they could be a good thing. That being loved again didn't have to be so terrifying.
In the coldness of his empty bed later in the night, for reasons Seungkwan desperately wishes he could explain, he only feels more torn standing at the edge.
𖧷
The morning Mingyu is due to leave, he makes sure to stop by Seungkwan's apartment before his flight.
There is no alarm that wakes Seungkwan up. The reality is that he didn't sleep, hasn't really slept for the last couple of days as his mind runs rampant, looping through the same thought of being undeserving of this kind of devotion, of not being able to give as much as Mingyu has. Hansol's contact is still in his phone, though untouched, the open invitation has yet to be revoked, something Seungkwan cannot justify for the life of him.
It only makes sense to be honest, to wear his battered heart on his sleeve as Mingyu holds him in the entryway of Seungkwan's home, lamenting on how much he'll miss Seungkwan. When Seungkwan says nothing, only presses his face further into the warmth of the sturdy chest, Mingyu's hand stills from its path of circles along the base of Seungkwan's spine. "Seungkwan," he says quietly. "Tell hyung what's wrong."
Seungkwan lets a breath shudder out of his lungs, knowing that he should be honest with Mingyu. Though, it feels no better than lying and keeping it to himself. At the very least Mingyu deserves honesty. But being honest would require him to be able to place these feelings of uncertainty and certainty meshed together. To be able to place why it all feels so undeserving, why he wants Mingyu to have the chance to turn away but desperately wants him to just stay despite all his shortcomings. Why the ghost of a past relationship still feels like it's haunting him, why it's his fault he hasn't made an effort to beckon it toward the light Mingyu has offered. "I still talk to my ex," he finds himself blurting out. "Not in a serious way—it… We haven't fully cut ties yet. I haven't."
Mingyu's silence stretches. He steps back slightly, just enough to look at Seungkwan with eyebrows creased in confusion. "Should I be worried?
"No—I mean, it's… It's so complicated," Seungkwan tries explaining, words rushing out without a chance to be filtered or thought out. "We broke up and started sleeping together and I thought I was never gonna move on and then you came along and—and I don't want to hurt you, Mingyu."
Mingyu's face falls, eyes dancing between Seungkwan's. "What are you trying to say? Are you still… still with him?"
"No," Seungkwan says quickly. "Well, I don't know—"
"You don't know?" Mingyu repeats quietly, another step used to distance himself. Instinctively, Seungkwan reaches out only to drop his hand just as fast.
"It's complicated," Seungkwan says again. "I haven't—I haven't ended things like I should have and I know I should have because you deserve it but I'm—I don't know. I'm giving you the chance to rethink this, to rethink us. To think about what you want because I'm not—because you deserve something better, Mingyu. Someone better. You deserve to know before we get too invested—"
"It's a little too late for that," Mingyu tells him, mouth pressed in a straight line. "I know what I want, Seungkwan. Do you?"
Seungkwan blinks. "I think so—I mean. I… I'm not sure." When Mingyu says nothing, Seungkwan lets out a strangled laugh, the corners of his eyes burning as he looks down. "I'm fucking this up, aren't I?"
"I'm just confused," Mingyu says after a moment. "It's… You want me, and then you don't. You tell me that you're still having some sort of relationship with your ex and—and I know I said we move at your pace, Seungkwan, but if I'm a second choice, a just in case—it hurts me."
"I don't want to hurt you," Seungkwan whispers. "But I am, aren't I?"
Mingyu's eyes flicker across his face. "I have to go," he says with a wetness in his eyes that matches Seungkwan's. "Can you… Just—think about what you want, yeah? And if I'm there, if I'm in the picture, let me know, please."
"Mingyu—"
"I really have to go," Mingyu says gently despite the hell Seungkwan is dragging him through. He steps forward, a soft hand on Seungkwan's face as he presses his lips to his forehead, like he's deserving of such affection. His lips move against the skin as he speaks, tone muffled and low. "I'm not giving you up easily. You're scared, I know you are, but don't run from me. Don't push me away. I'm yours if you'll let me be."
With one last lingered kiss, Mingyu is leaving. Seungkwan stares at the door, battered heart on the floor seen for the first time.
𖧷
Despite all, Mingyu still informs Seungkwan when he lands in Italy. Though, the text is short and brief, signed off with a simple I'll let you know when I'm back in Seoul that tells Seungkwan he shouldn't be bothering Mingyu while he's abroad. After all, it's not like Seungkwan left him with a decent memory to start off his trip with.
He crumbled pathetically, let all of his insecurities and mistakes pile up until he was shoving them into Mingyu's palm as some sort of proof to confirm all of his internal thoughts. An attempt to get Mingyu to see that his affection and tenderness are only being wasted on someone so incredibly unsure of themselves.
But Mingyu's words stampede over it all. Don't push me away.
Hands filled with every reason to turn and run the other way, received gratefully and wholly and set aside. Still choosing Seungkwan, asking to be chosen back.
But now, Seungkwan is left to sit with himself and the aftermath of his actions until Mingyu comes back, until he can glue the pieces of himself back together in hopes that he didn't fuck things up beyond repair, that this was not ruined before it had a chance to start.
His mood must be evident in every action after Mingyu leaves. Though, it's not like he's doing his best to hide the naturally crestfallen expression that sags on his face when a moment of silence lulls through any room he's in. The songs he request are all slow, depressing, and borderline concerning. Between breaks, he finds himself staring at a spot on the surface in front of him, allowing all his internal monologue to take over and remind him that he's an incredible fuck up. But Mingyu still wants him. Hopefully he feels the same when he gets back—though, he may stumble upon the realization that Seungkwan isn't worth the hassle—
"Alright," Soonyoung says loudly, startling Seungkwan out of his thoughts and nearly out of his skin. "We're going to the bar after this. Seungkwan, you're not arguing and you're not day drinking until you tell us what the fuck is going on."
There's no chance to even try denying the invitation. They're back on air in the same breath and Seungkwan is forced to perk up like a puppet attached to a coiling string, plastering on a smile and doing his best to be funny despite the cloud looming overhead.
As promised (and as threatened) Seungkwan finds himself in the booth of a bar they used to frequent back during their university days. Seokmin is sitting beside him while Soonyoung is across the table, sliding a glass of beer toward Seokmin first, uncaring as it sloshes over the side.
He points at Seungkwan with an accusing finger and disappointed frown. "Did you see Hansol last night?"
"No," Seokmin answers for him, eyes narrowed as his face gets closer to Seungkwan's, inspecting carefully. "He didn't. This is a different type of moping."
Seungkwan blinks, somewhat bewildered by Seokmin's skill at deciphering Seungkwan's categories of sadness. "What the hell—"
"See," Seokmin says proudly. "I told you."
"If you're not depressed about Hansol, then what is it?" Soonyoung asks. After being met with a few seconds of silence, he groans, pushing his own beer toward Seungkwan and gesturing for Seokmin to do the same. "Come on. Get him drunk, he'll start talking."
Seungkwan huffs. "Yeah, good luck with that."
𖧷
Swaying into Seokmin's side, breath smelling of beer and the four soju shots he was corralled into taking, Seungkwan's mouth is spilling everything and anything it can think of about Mingyu.
The way Seungkwan was enamored the moment he saw Mingyu on his television, how seeing him in real life did nothing to ease the fluttering in his stomach and chest. Mingyu's offer to cook for him, how it turned out to be his way of charming Seungkwan enough to agree to a date. How every one of Seungkwan's damning thoughts told him that he would never be quite deserving of the way Mingyu looked at him, the way he was so sure of loving Seungkwan despite his beliefs that Mingyu could do better, should do better. How he still has yet to wrench himself away from what him and Hansol used to have, though he knows it's dead and gone and buried. How he told Mingyu before his trip to Italy in an attempt to show how incredibly undeserving he is of everything Mingyu has to offer.
The way Mingyu had been nothing but truthful.
Seungkwan is confusing, unsure. And yet, Mingyu still chooses him.
Soonyoung's blotchy face is staring right at Seungkwan, mouth gaping. "You've been fucking chef Mingyu this whole time?"
"Jesus Christ," Seungkwan groans, face falling against the sticky table only to be pulled off by Seokmin's palm against his forehead."That's not the point. The point is that I'm screwing things up—"
"But even you said he still wants to give it a chance," Soonyoung argues. "Just do it! You're over complicating things!"
"You're still thinking about Hansol, aren't you?" Seokmin says bluntly but not unkindly.
"Yes," Seungkwan admits. "But not in a romantic way or anything—I don't… The feelings are gone, I just… I have to end the whole thing we have going on and… and I don't know how."
"Well, you have to be honest," Seokmin tells him. "But I know it's hard for you to do that, especially with Hansol. It's how you got yourself into that mess to begin with, so think about it. What was stopping you from ending things with Hansol in the first place, when it made you feel like shit about yourself?"
Seungkwan blinks, eyes fluttering in thought. Contrary to popular belief, there was a reason Seungkwan kept going back. For a moment, even if it was brief and rushed, everything felt familiar, like nothing ever changed between them. For a moment, he wasn't sitting in his solitude, searching for a way out. "I was… I was scared of being alone. Of feeling unloved."
"Do you still feel like that?" Seokmin asks gently. "Alone and unloved?"
The answer is easy. "No."
Seokmin plucks Seungkwan's phone from the table, pushing it into his palm. "Then what are you waiting for?"
𖧷
Hansol's head is re-shaven. When it grows out again, Seungkwan knows it'll hold the same curls he had when he was younger, untouched by any sort of heat or dye. And then he'll shave it again and again and again because despite everyone's fondness of the curls, he's only ever been true to himself. Unapologetic and blunt in all the ways Seungkwan wishes he was.
So, in the quietness of the quaint and nearly empty cafe they meet at, he takes a leaf from Hansol's own book. "I made a mistake agreeing to the whole sex thing."
Hansol's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Oh—you did?"
"It was never no feelings attached," Seungkwan continues with a breath, hands wrapped around coffee cup with its steam billowing up. "I still… I still wanted us to work out. I did it because I was too scared of letting go."
Hansol's brows knit together, confusion etched on his face as he tilts his head to the side. "Sorry—I just. I thought we were both on the same page? You said it was just sex, no feelings attached. But… You're still…?"
"Not anymore," Seungkwan explains quickly. "I've moved on, genuinely I have. But the only reason I agreed to it was because I was hoping that maybe it wasn't actually over, you know?"
"So, did you lie?" Hansol asks. There's no bitterness, no anger. He's kind and gentle, leaning forward to catch Seungkwan's words. "When we broke up—you said it was okay. Was that a lie?"
Seungkwan presses his lips together, eyes flickering up to meet Hansol's light ones. He nods. "I just… I didn't want you to hate me, so I let you go. I didn't want to put up a fight I knew you didn't want to have."
Hansol's mouth falls open, the inner corners of his brows twitching down. "Seungkwan-ah… Why didn't you tell me?"
"Would it have changed your mind?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
But he can see the way Hansol's mind works, the way his lips straighten for a moment in thought, his eyes darting down toward the table where his hands are laying. Trying his best to be kind and honest. "I would've tried harder, I think."
"You think," Seungkwan says gently. "You don't know."
Hansol nods, swallowing. "You want me to be honest?"
"Please."
Hansol sighs, eyes flickering across Seungkwan's face. "I think neither of us were ever going to be what the other needed, Seungkwan-ah."
The corner of Seungkwan's mouth tilts up just barely as he hums in agreement. "I think so, too." He sighs, continuing shyly. "That's why I wanted to talk to you—so we could, um. Put it to an end. Officially. I met someone and I want to be all in."
Hansol's head bobs as he nods understandingly. "Yeah—yeah, of course. I get that."
"Thanks," Seungkwan says, letting out the breath aching in his lungs. "I'm trying to get my shit together. Finally, right?"
Hansol laughs, reaching across the table to squeeze Seungkwan's hand in a comforting way. "This new guy… Is he good to you?"
"God," Seungkwan whispers, a laugh punching out of his chest as he buries his face in his hands, blushing at the sheer thought of Mingyu. "He bought my whole skincare routine and set it up in his bathroom after our first date. He learned how to make a Chinese dish just because I mentioned that Junhui was talking about how good it was and how much he wished I could try it. He… He's too good to me."
"Don't do that," Hansol tells him, shaking his head slightly when Seungkwan peers at him from between his fingers. "Don't try convincing yourself you don't deserve that, alright? If he's good to you, accept it. Don't fuck it up, Boo."
"I won't," Seungkwan promises, to Hansol and to himself, and even to Mingyu if he's out there thinking of Seungkwan. "Really, I won't."
𖧷
MINGYU
2:21am
I know it's late, but I'm back in Seoul.
If you're asleep, I hope you're sleeping well.
Seungkwan is not asleep. He's awake, listening to the pattering of the rain on the nearly vacant streets. He's awake and the moment he reads the message, he's stumbling up to replace his pajamas with a t-shirt that isn't his judging by the way it nearly swallows him and a pair of sweatpants. He barely makes it to the bus stop on time, having to sprint in a rush toward the doors dripping with rain. The driver must have a sense of pity for him, slowing down and giving him a smile when Seungkwan's nearly soaked form plops down into a seat.
By the time he makes it to Mingyu's apartment building, he feels like something of a spectacle bursting through the doors and earning the attention of the only two people in the lobby. A trail of drops falling from the ends of his wet hair follow him into the elevator, down the hall, and to the front of Mingyu's door.
He knocks three times, chest heaving and body shivering, his drenched clothes sticking to his cold skin only amplified by the subtle air of the door opening.
Mingyu, as always, is a dream. He's softer with his tiredness, the traces of exhaustion evident in the subtle darkness beneath his eyes, hair hair flat beneath the hood of his jacket. His eyes widen immediately, Seungkwan's name sweet and shocked on his tongue before Seungkwan is speaking over him.
"I—I have the tendency to not let myself be happy," Seungkwan starts, chest cracked open and spewing every part of himself. "Or to make things complicated so that I overthink too much and push a good thing away. You—I did that to you and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. But you were right—I was scared. I'm fucking scared right now, Mingyu but—but you make me wanna jump in because I know the fall's not gonna hurt, not if it's with you. And if you changed your mind, I understand. But I want this. I want you. Us. I know I do." He pauses, the silence nearly deafening. "Say something, please."
Mingyu says nothing. Instead, he's in Seungkwan's space, hands cupping his face and kissing him until it feels like the breath has disappeared from his lungs. He parts for a moment, just to say: "I'm all yours, Seungkwan."
Seungkwan holds Mingyu, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as he kisses him again, like if he lets go he might disappear. He only drops his hold when he realizes that all he's doing is getting Mingyu wet, too. "Hyung," he says with a small laugh, "I'm getting you all wet."
Mingyu's eyes flutter open, looking down at himself and then at Seungkwan. "Oh, shit. Here—come on."
Seungkwan finds himself leaning against the bathroom door, watching with a blooming fondness as Mingyu turns on the shower, leaving and coming back with a set of pajamas for Seungkwan and placing them on an empty space of the sink. When he goes to leave again, Seungkwan stops him with a hand on his wrist. "Stay," he whispers, eyes flickering from Mingyu's eyes to his mouth. When Mingyu's brows twitch curiously, Seungkwan pushes the hem of his shirt up, blunt nails scratching against the softness of Mingyu's firm abdomen. "Want you in there with me."
He can see the way Mingyu melts, hot air pushed past his lips as he swallows with a nod. "Hyung will stay."
Shedding his clothes in front of Mingyu is more nerve wracking than Seungkwan expected it to be, hit with the sudden realization that it'll be the first time Mingyu has seen him completely bare. Usually, he's still wearing his shirt, bottoms abandoned in haste beneath Mingyu's touch and mouth. Even when Mingyu is taking his own clothes off, Seungkwan barely wills himself to look, turning his face into the hot spray of the shower, closing his eyes and rubbing his hands over his face.
He only wills himself to look when Mingyu's fingers brush against his shoulder, coaxing him into turning around. As expected, he's stunning even like this. Every part of him sculpted to perfection, soft in all the same places that hold muscle. Tanned, littered with moles and freckles that Seungkwan traces with his heavy gaze.
Mingyu's thoughts are elsewhere, more determined on making sure Seungkwan is cleaned of all the rain water that pelted him outside. He's gentle as he washes Seungkwan's hair, fingers untangling the small knots at the base of his skull, scratching at his scalp in a way that makes his mouth drop open, body leaning against Mingyu's. When he's finished with Seungkwan's hair, he moves onto his own, eyes closed beneath the shower head as Seungkwan lets himself admire, stomach fluttering with fondness and something greater.
Without words, Mingyu lathers a body cloth with body wash, gesturing for Seungkwan to turn. When he does, Mingyu runs the cloth in circles over his back, over his chest and down his stomach, the tips of his fingers trailing against the dips of Seungkwan's abdomen as he does so. From behind, he places a kiss to the back of Seungkwan's neck, followed by one to his shoulder, and then another one on his neck. Seungkwan gasps at the added pressure, head falling back against Mingyu's shoulder when his mouth becomes ceaseless against his skin.
He can feel Mingyu's hardness against his ass, only fueling his own erection until he's whimpering Mingyu's name in hopes of something, anything.
"Can I show you?" Mingyu asks, lips on the shell of Seungkwan's ear. "Can I show you how much I want you?"
"Please, hyung," Seungkwan please, breath caught in his throat as Mingyu's touch lowers, the wash cloth abandoned as his hand slides down Seungkwan's side, down his thigh until it reaches his inner thigh, coaxing his legs apart slightly.
His touch burns every inch of Seungkwan, igniting him down to his core. Every breath is hitches, caught in his throat as Mingyu takes Seungkwan's cock into his hand, dragging in steady motions until his hips are stuttering, desperate for something more. But Mingyu is intentional, working Seungkwan closer and closer, dragging his lips up his neck, to his ear, his words only adding to Seungkwan's whines and whimpers. "So pretty—ah, baby. Wanna see you feel good for me—wanna be good for you."
"'s good," Seungkwan moans, grinding himself back on Mingyu to hear the way his breath catches, the whimper caught in between syllables. "You're good, Mingyu. So good."
The reaction is divine. Mingyu's head falls against the junction of Seungkwan's neck and shoulder, hips rutting forward enough for his cock to slide between Seungkwan's cheeks, the tip pressing against his hole for a fleeting moment until it drags over and past. He does it several times, as if he can't help himself.
"I—I cleaned myself," Seungkwan tells him, hoping that maybe that'll speed up the process. "At home—so I'm—I'm ready."
"Ah," Mingyu hisses, pulling Seungkwan's body against his rutting hips. "Did you touch yourself, baby? Did—did you think of me?"
"Yes," Seungkwan admits, the embarrassment dimming out, replaced by the burning flame of arousal.
"Wanna fuck you," Mingyu says quickly. "Can I, please? Let me fuck you, Seungkwan. Please—wanna make you feel good—”
Seungkwan is nodding, words lost on him, the only thought able to stick to his mind being Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu.
"Open," he says and Seungkwan lets his mouth part, the fleshy pink of his lips contrasting against his skin. Mingyu's middle and ring finger push up and into his mouth, the tanned skin adding to the color as they slide over Seungkwan's wet tongue. "So perfect—so good, Seungkwan."
His moan is muffled around the digits, feeling empty when Mingyu takes them out, dipping them lower until they brush against Seungkwan's hole. Seungkwan arcs his back, craning his neck back to sloppily kiss at Mingyu's mouth.
The pressure of Mingyu's fingers disappear momentarily as he turns Seungkwan around, backing him into the tiled wall, away from the direct spray of the shower. Seungkwan tilts his chin up, the shadow of Mingyu looming over him, his wet and black hair hanging in his face as his gaze dances between Seungkwan's eyes. He leans down, bottom lip featherlight against Seungkwan's top lip, hovering as he holds the back of Seungkwan's thigh and hikes his leg up. "Can you keep it there?"
Seungkwan nods, unable to look away from Mingyu's mouth shining with wetness, the water droplets on his cheeks, dripping down his nose. Mingyu holds his gaze like this as his middle finger circles Seungkwan's hole, dragging against the puckered skin until Seungkwan's mouth falls open around a hitch.
When he pushes it in, his lips press against Seungkwan's, tongue licking into his mouth as he slowly breaches him. He's careful with uis movements, free hand on Seungkwan's cock, working him back into hardness as he adds another finger.
The stretch burns with a heat that coils in Seungkwan's stomach, dissipating as Mingyu fucks his fingers into him with a slow, drawn out pace. Seungkwan is nearly delirious, nearly unraveling when Mingyu curves his fingers just enough to send a white heat flashing through his pelvis.
He grips Mingyu's biceps, forehead pressed to his neck as he whimpers, "Hyung—hyung I'm close—I'm close—” Left empty as Mingyu pulls out, Seungkwan shakes his head. "No—no, please. Want you—"
He's hushed with a kiss, Mingyu's hands on his face to keep him still as they part. "Bedroom," he says, the rasp in his voice amplified. "Gonna fuck you in bed—you deserve it. You deserve it good."
The water cuts off, leaving Seungkwan shivering against the cold air. Mingyu is quick to get them towels, drying Seungkwan with such attention and care that he nearly forgets what they were doing before they stumble back into the bedroom, mouths melded together in their haste.
Mingyu's prioritizes are evident in the way he backs Seungkwan onto the bed, picks him up by the back of his thighs to move him to the middle before gently placing him back down, mouth and canines nipping at every piece of flesh in sight.
"Hyung," Seungkwan urges as Mingyu gets lost in marking him up, specifically the inner skin of his thigh, pushing Seungkwan's legs apart and licking at the skin above his hole. "Oh—ah, fuck. Hyung—”
"On your stomach," Mingyu tells him, mouth raw and shining, his drying hair nearly covering his eyes. "Please, wanna taste you."
The implication makes Seungkwan's core tremble, cock leaking against his stomach as he turns, clutching onto a pillow near his grasp, a gasp yanked from his mouth when Mingyu takes a hold of his hips, pulling them up until his ass is in the air and his back is curved, showcasing what he knows is his best asset.
"Fuck," Mingyu whispers, hand kneading at the fullness of Seungkwan's ass and thighs, nails raking down the light skin. "You're unreal. Want you so bad."
Mingyu's tongue is flat against Seungkwan's hole, dragging up slowly until Seungkwan shudders out a breath, squeezing his eyes shut and rocking his hips back against Mingyu's mouth. From there, he's more generous with his actions. His tongue laves over the puckered skin, messy and slick with his spit. Seungkwan babbles out praises, going between thrusting into the bed for some relief and pushing back into Mingyu's tongue.
Mingyu is determined above all. His hands keep Seungkwan in his place, his moans muffled as he eats Seungkwan out like there's nothing else he'd rather be doing.
It's almost enough for Seungkwan to completely crumble, mind nearly melted after Mingyu adds his fingers back in, licking between the digits as they press against Seungkwan's prostate.
"Hyung—oh my god," Seungkwan stammers, voice cracking with a moan and whimper. "Fuck—just like that. Ah, ah, ah—fuck, you're so good, so good for me—”
Mingyu's pace falters, a choked moan coming out as his forehead drops against Seungkwan's thigh, hot breath hitting the skin. Seungkwan cranes his neck, doing his best to look back as Mingyu sits up on his knees, wiping his mouth with his wrist.
It isn't until Seungkwan makes out the white streaks smudged on his abdomen that he realizes what happened. "Oh—did you…?"
"I can still fuck you," Mingyu says quickly, crawling up the bed as Seungkwan turns onto his back , dipping down to kiss him. "Promise—I'm still hard it's just—ah. You're so sexy. So pretty, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Seungkwan whispers, holding Mingyu's face in his hands, reveling in the way his eyes flutter shut like there's no better feeling. "Just fuck me."
Mingyu is nothing if not a good listener. Within the second, he's reaching over into the nightstand, retrieving a bottle of lube and back on Seungkwan with such quickness that it almost makes Seungkwan laugh. Though, the amusement is replaced by a high hum in his throat as Mingyu nips at his lip just before coaxing his mouth open with his tongue.
The head of his cock is slick, pushing against Seungkwan's hole for a moment before Mingyu thrusts, pushing it up and pressing it against the perineum. The motion is repeated, teasing, teasing, teasing until Seungkwan feels like he may come like this, completely unfucked and untouched. But before he can complain or chastise Mingyu for making him wait another second, Mingyu pushes into him, just enough for Seungkwan's mind to go white and blank.
His hands are scrambling against Mingyu's back for some sort of stability, breath punched out of his lungs as Mingyu enters him slowly. His words are quiet, whispered against Seungkwan's skin. "You're so pretty—so good. Taking me so well, Seungkwan." Each sentence spilling out of his mouth punctuated by a kiss to Seungkwan's cheek, lips, anything his mouth can reach.
When he's flushed with Seungkwan, he doesn't move, opening his eyes to gauge Seungkwan's reaction. Seungkwan stares up at him, doe eyes flickering between Mingyu's, air trapped in his chest, filled to the brim with Mingyu and all of the feelings he's been suppressing all this time. All the affection, the fondness he feels spills over, amplified when Mingyu starts to fuck into him slowly, gaze unwavering from Seungkwan with every calculated movement of his hips.
It chokes Seungkwan, unable to look away as his body jostles against the bed with every movement, Mingyu so deep in him he swears he can feel it in his stomach, in his throat, making up every inch of him. When Mingyu's pace quickens, the sound of his hips slapping against the back of Seungkwan's thighs fill the room, drowning out the blood rushing in Seungkwan's head, untouched cock leaking against his stomach with every sound stumbling out of his mouth, begging Mingyu for more, more.
He doesn't realize there are tears brimming at his lash line until his vision blurs at the edges, tainting his view of Mingyu until he blinks and the wetness spills over, trailing down his cheeks. Mingyu slows down, drags his hips enough for the tip of his cock to press against Seungkwan's prostate, making a sob crackle from his throat in desperation.
"Fuck me," he pleads, begging Mingyu as the tear tracks keep staining his cheeks. "Fuck me, hyung. Please—please. Don't stop, need it—I need it."
Mingyu's hand is grasping his chin, turning Seungkwan's face to the side and fucking him with a faster pace, tongue darting out as he licks at the tear curving down Seungkwan's jaw, following its trail up to the high point of his cheek. It's filthy, the wetness of Mingyu's saliva lingers on his skin as a reminder that makes him curse, turned on in a whole new way, unlocking a part of himself he hadn't known existed.
The desperation for something more is dampened when Mingyu pulls out, manhandling Seungkwan onto his stomach again, pulling his hips back in the same position he had been while being devoured within an inch of his life. Mingyu is sliding back into him with a whimper trailing into a sigh, one hand on Seungkwan's lower back while the other pushes at his upper back, forcing him into the mattress for enough leverage to fuck into him mercilessly.
The rhythm is clumsy, Mingyu practically rutting into him with desperation as Seungkwan's moans break from his lungs with a staccato rhythm, throat nearly dry with every one of the gasps drawn from his lungs, left to hang in the heavy and hot air between them. He's dragged closer and closer to the edge, Mingyu's name repeated on his tongue like a prayer or warning that he's only going to last so long.
Mingyu's arm wraps around Seungkwan's waist, pulling him up until he's kneeling on the bed too, slick back pressed to Mingyu's broad and toned chest, allowing him enough freedom to grind his hips back and forth, causing Mingyu's cock to brush against his prostate with every minuscule movement.
He tosses his head back against Mingyu's shoulder, hand searching for Mingyu's blindly. Their fingers intertwine for a moment before Seungkwan is guiding Mingyu's hand up onto his neck and then jaw. Mingyu reads his mind, shoving his ring and middle finger back between Seungkwan's plush lips, thrusting into him sloppily.
Seungkwan's moan is dampened around Mingyu's fingers, eyes rolling back as the heat in his gut coils tightly, finally snapping when he feels Mingyu push down on his tongue further. Untouched, Seungkwan comes with spit pooling at the corners of his mouth, a thick drop sliding down his chin as he trembles with his orgasm.
Mingyu follows close after, the sloppy and frantic pace of his thrusts slowing down until he's gasping into Seungkwan's ear and filling him up, hand falling from Seungkwan's mouth as he holds onto Seungkwan's hips for balance.
Seungkwan is the first to collapse into the mattress face first, chest heaving as he does his best to catch his breath, lungs burning as they're fully filled with air for the first time since he stepped foot in Mingyu's apartment. His eyes shut despite himself, the exhaustion crashing over for a good few minutes that feel like hours until Mingyu is kissing up his spine, gently moving his hair out of his face.
"Seungkwannie," he whispers, jostling Seungkwan's shoulder with his hand. "We need to clean you up again, baby. You can't sleep like this."
"Yes I can," Seungkwan mumbles, sleepy and petulant.
Luckily, Mingyu laughs like it's cute, kissing Seungkwan's nose. "I'm gonna draw you a bath. Are you hungry? I can make you something fast—ramyun?"
Seungkwan opens his eyes, met with Mingyu sitting beside him waiting for an answer as he scratches at Seungkwan's scalp. Waiting for Seungkwan to let him take care of him. "That sounds nice," he admits, chest light and giddy and free. "Thank you, hyung." He tilts his head up for a kiss, smiling when Mingyu grants him one before getting up to run the bath.
"Do you want to eat in the bathtub or in the kitchen?" Mingyu asks once Seungkwan has settled in the soapy and scented water.
Seungkwan's eyes widen, mouth opened in a small circle. "What—there are options?"
"It's whatever you want," Mingyu says simply, sitting on the edge of the tub. "So, what'll it be?"
Seungkwan considers, pressing his lips together. "Would you eat ramyun with me in the tub?"
Mingyu grins. "I would eat ramyun with you anywhere, Seungkwan."
𖧷
Their fridge is filled with many things, but a ready to go meal is not one of those things.
Seungkwan huffs, moving aside a container of diced onions and another of pickled radish before deciding to give up and call his boyfriend. If he doesn't have a solution, then at the very least Seungkwan can complain a little bit.
Mingyu answers on the second right, voice light and sweet. "Jagiya! Good morning, I miss you."
"Yah, you've been out of the apartment for like twenty minutes," Seungkwan says even though he loves nothing more than to hear that Mingyu misses him, is thinking about him.
"Say you miss me too," Mingyu whines annoyingly and Seungkwan can hear the smile in his tone. "You know how I know? You wouldn't be calling me right now if you didn't."
Seungkwan rolls his eyes, ducking back down to look at the contents of the fridge. "I'm calling because I wanted to pack a lunch since I'm staying late for a meeting. But there's nothing—ah, wait. There's a half eaten pizza. That should do—"
"No!" Mingyu says, falling right into Seungkwan's trap. "Don't eat that, baby. You deserve a better meal—ah, maybe just bring some snacks? Or I could order you something."
"We're already eating out today," Seungkwan reminds him, thinking back to the notification on his calendar with a reservation. "Special day, remember? Or have you forgotten already?"
"You're questioning my loyalty?" Mingyu teases with fake annoyance. "I tricked you into letting me cook for you just to win you over and you try making it seem like I'd forget our anniversary. Yah, Boo Seungkwan. If anyone would forget it, it's you!"
"Aye," Seungkwan scolds, knowing Mingyu loves nothing more than to rile him up just to be scolded afterward. An interesting kink they've explored more times than Seungkwan thought they would have, but hey. Love makes you interesting things. "You're annoying."
"You love me," Mingyu sings.
"I'll just bring snacks, then."
"Hey, say you love me back!"
"Kim Mingyu," Seungkwan deadpans, a smile crawling onto his face. "I love you. Even if you're annoying."
"I'll take it!" Mingyu chirps over the distant sound of someone calling his name. "Ah, I have to go, baby. But I'll see you later, yeah?"
"Yeah," Seungkwan confirms. As if there's anywhere else he'd rather be than Mingyu's side. "See you."
Shoving snacks into his bag, Seungkwan ends up running ten minutes behind schedule, making sure to send Mingyu a text to let him know that he absolutely blames him. He's met with a shrugging emoji as well as a that's your fault that makes him laugh into the back of his hand, earning a look from one of the elderly women sitting beside him on the subway.
When he gets to the studio, he's forgoing hair and makeup, bee lining straight for his seat and earning two very unimpressed looks.
"You better have a good excuse," Seokmin chastises with a playful cadence as Soonyoung wags a disapproving finger at him.
"Unfortunately, I do not," Seungkwan admits, saved by the countdown as they get ready to be on air.
Seokmin leads the intro as always: "Hello! We are—"
Seungkwan comes in on cue, "Boo—”
Then Seokmin: "Seok—”
And Soonyoung: "Soon!"
The show breezes by easily, Seungkwan's mood heightened by the good and playful banter from Seokmin and Soonyoung. With no guest star, it makes it easier to get through segments without fear of moving too fast or having to explain certain things between songs. After a good chunk of Cupid's Corner, Seokmin is the one to read the last question.
"Alright, this one comes from someone anonymous here in Seoul—"
"Oooh," Soonyoung gasps. "Someone local."
"Anyway," Seokmin continues, ignoring Soonyoung's offended expression in favor of looking at Seungkwan. "This question is for Seungkwan."
Seungkwan's eyes widen in curiosity. "Oh? Me specifically?"
"Yes," Seokmin nods, clearing his throat. "It says: Dear Seungkwan, it's my anniversary with my boyfriend today and he is currently at work but I want it to be a special day. Do you think he would be okay if I stole him for a bit so we could celebrate? I'm not sure what to do! Thank you in advanced. And you're my favorite BooSeokSoon member. Fighting!"
"Oh, wow," Seungkwan laughs, shaking his head as his hand presses into his own chest. "It feels good to be appreciated."
"I'm a little jealous," Soonyoung says, cheeks puffed as he speaks. "I want to be someone's favorite."
"Let me have this," Seungkwan tsks, going back to the question at hand. "I would say, go for it! It's a special day, I'm sure he wouldn't mind it. And if he does, break up with him. Really, you deserve someone that will be grateful. Go surprise him and enjoy your anniversary."
From behind the cameras, Mingyu's voice calls: "Okay, let's go then."
Seungkwan's head snaps toward the sound, eyes so wide that Seokmin and Soonyoung start howling with laughter. "What—what? What was that? Who was that?"
"I think that was our anonymous fan," Seokmin says into the mic, gesturing toward the cameras and staff.
Mingyu weaves his way through, coming into view with a proud grin on his face, extending a hand out toward Seungkwan. "Come on, you said I could steal you away, right?"
Still dumbfounded, Seungkwan looks around at everyone, like somehow Mingyu will disappear and this will be some sort of prank. "Wait—really? What's happening?"
"Go, Seungkwan!" Soonyoung urges, shooing him away with the wave of his hands. "He didn't plan this for you to sit here with a stupid look! Go enjoy yourself!"
Seungkwan stumbles up, taking his headphones off but not before making sure. "Really? I can just leave?" Even their PD yell at him to just go. So, Seungkwan bows at everyone on his way out with a blush, tucked into Mingyu's side until they're far enough that he can turn and throw his arms around Mingyu, wrapping him in a nearly bone crushing hug. "Wah—you're crazy. What the hell? When did you plan that?"
"I drafted it a few months ago," Mingyu admits, petting the back of Seungkwan's head until he's staring up at him. "Took a lot of convincing to your PD and also a lot of making sure today was blocked off for guests, but—"
Seungkwan cuts him off with a kiss, balanced on his toes to reach Mingyu's face. "You're ridiculous," he mutters against his mouth, heart thrumming in his chest.
"Absolutely," Mingyu says sweetly, thumb caressing Seungkwan's chin before he kisses him chastely, reaching down to thread their fingers together and pull him along into the rest of their day. The rest of their lives. "It's what you deserve."
This time, Seungkwan genuinely believes it.