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Mingi rests his head on the window glass most of the ride back from the ATEEZ+ double date filming, bonded with Yunho in a little bubble of intimacy from their date in the quiet car. In that bubble that somehow hasn't yet dissipated, he watches as the cloudy skies that harangued them all day turn into a bright sepia canopy from the glow of the city lights. The sky looks ruddy and warm, and indeed the window glass against Mingi’s forehead isn't cool, given that even early summer has fingers of heat lacing through it. A similar heat courses through him.
He doesn’t need to look at Yunho to confirm him as the source of the heat, not when every inch of his body is aware of him. Has been ever since they faced each other over baeksuk.
Mingi rummages through his memories of their conversation at the restaurant. The act of remembering feels like picking up rocks from a heap and examining them for shine. He turns each recalled question-and-answer over, wondering if he said the right things, the cool things, the things that mean something. Upon reflection, he thinks he did say the right things.
Yunho said the right things too. Things that could only be said between the two of them—at least as much as one could say in front of a camera. But because that’s where they live their lives, it’s enough. Mingi’s smart; he understands.
The only question left for him is where to go next.
He glimpses over at Yunho, who’s sitting next to him, flicking through his phone. As if sensing Mingi’s gaze, Yunho looks over and gives him a little smile. That smile remains on his face as he goes back to browsing.
Mingi looks away into the night again, face hot.
***
When they get back to the dorms, it's late. They both have schedules tomorrow and can't afford to throw away sleep. But instead of separating in the hall to head to their respective dorms, Mingi silently follows Yunho. Yunho doesn’t react. He keeps walking and then lets them both into Yunho and Yeosang’s dorm. The door softly clicks behind them with understated finality.
Once they’re inside, Yunho goes to the kitchen and turns on the light. Mingi feels a bit like a stalker at first, following him silently in the dark, but soon he too is within the perimeter of the kitchen light. An invited guest.
Yunho grabs a snack from the kitchen counter. He casually leans over the counter while he munches, as if hanging out in the dim kitchen is the most natural thing in the world, and Mingi sidles up and grabs a snack too. It gives him something to do in the limbo that they're in.
Mingi can't stop staring at Yunho’s wrists, bony and masculine, where his sleeves slump down. The tendons work as Yunho eats, and static rushes in Mingi’s ears. Many times he’s seen Yunho’s hands, and had these thoughts, so he tries not to get his hopes up too much. Then, Yunho tips his head back and tosses the snack dust from the package into his mouth, his throat arching in a long line. Mingi is the one who swallows.
“I'm going to take a shower,” Yunho says next.
“Yeah,” Mingi nods, heart in his throat. “You do that.”
Yunho nods, and heads deeper into the dorm.
Once Yunho leaves, Mingi is left alone to make a decision. Decide he does: once all the salty crumbs of his own snack are more or less in his mouth, Mingi deliberately walks to Yunho's bedroom.
All the ATEEZ members practically live in each other's pockets. Yunho and Yeosang’s dorm is a second home with the same smells, patterns of detritus, and colors as Mingi’s used to. He reclines in strange comfort on Yunho’s bed.
He knows he’s not wrong in his decision. Something's different tonight—the current between them is roiling, rushing, and deepening. As much as he can, Mingi wants to stay abreast of it, as if riding a wave, lest he be swept under, disoriented and mangled into oblivion by these big feelings that he can't quite name.
After some time, the shower turns off. Mingi’s heart starts to race when he hears the bathroom door open.
Yunho enters his room in a towel on his lower half, hair wet. His eyes widen when he sees Mingi lounging on his bed, but this, apparently, isn’t the moment Mingi’s been waiting for. Yunho offers, “Sorry, I'll be done in a minute.” He picks up some skin care bottle that is on his dresser.
“No rush,” Mingi says, as Yunho leaves.
Eventually, Yunho returns to the bedroom, and Mingi belatedly realizes that if he wants any hope of this nebulous thing to happen, he’s supposed to shower first. He’s been outside all day, and he still has a full face of makeup on. The latter wouldn’t be so bad to face Yunho with, but the former would be an affront.
“Gonna shower,” Mingi makes finger guns at Yunho. That makes Yunho giggle, probably because it’s so indecipherable and stupid.
As wired as Mingi is, he almost loses the thread in the mundaneness of actually showering. Then, as he dries his hair and does his skincare, taking the time needed to look as good as he does, the familiar routine threatens to send him in a different direction, or rather, the usual direction. The direction where nothing happens between them at all.
When Mingi finally returns to the bedroom, he worries that the tension may have dissipated beyond repair. Yunho is lying on his side on the bed in a T-shirt and shorts, scrolling on his phone and grinning at things he sees, until he looks up intently at Mingi.
“Aren’t those mine?” Yunho comments, gazing at Mingi’s sleep shorts and tank top. The attention his body helps Mingi get back on track.
“Dunno,” Mingi says, struggling to be casual. “Found them in the bathroom.”
“You can’t fit into Yeosang’s stuff, so I guess those’re mine,” Yunho observes, not seeming to be affected in the same way but also not taking his eyes off Mingi’s groin. “You wanna sleep, then?”
“Unless you want them back,” Mingi says playfully. “I'm just going to sleep in them.”
Yunho sends him a raised eyebrow, and then scootches back on the bed and pats the empty spot. “Okay, sleep.”
Mingi doesn't get weird about the invitation, after all, Yunho didn't offer it in a weird way. Just a normal, friends way. Except, this is anything but normal for them. But Mingi pesters, “You want me to sleep on top of the blanket?”
“You,” Yunho admonishes. He sets his phone in its port and then pulls the covers wide open. He gets under them himself, leaving a space for Mingi. “In here. Under the covers.”
“Want me to turn off the overhead light first?” Mingi asks. He hopes they're not going to just sleep like they’ve been saying but it would be a pain to have to turn out the light later if things go where they might. Oblivious to Mingi’s inner reasoning, Yunho simply thanks him for the offer and clicks on a bedside lamp; Mingi flicks off the overhead light, and gets in bed. Yunho pulls the covers up and now Mingi is past the point of consciously making decisions.
Being such large men, there's very little space in the bed. Their foreheads bump together and they both still, creating a bubble of possibility between their lips. As Mingi observes and counts Yunho’s breaths, it's Yunho who leans in first and presses their lips together in an unmistakable kiss.
At first, Mingi’s brain can only process details. Yunho’s lips are soft and moisturized, and he applies firm pressure against Mingi’s own plush mouth. Mingi treasures the sensation of soft skin on skin more than he expected to, as if his mind is being rewired just by memorizing how it feels to be kissed by Yunho. The nerves in his body align, reforming him into a creature searching for pleasure. And so, the kisses get richer, their bodies closer, until Yunho is half lying on top of Mingi and cradling his cheek in one hand as they kiss ever more deeply.
Mingi’s hungry for it, needy to the marrow of his bones for Yunho. With janky motions of his knees, he shoves Yunho between his legs so that Yunho is laying flush on top of him. The weight of Yunho’s heavy body presses fully against Mingi before Yunho raises an elbow enough to alleviate some of the pressure.
Yunho huffs a fond noise and says, “Oh, c’mon, give me some space to work with.”
“You know you like it,” Mingi retorts, but his voice is soft and husky, without much smarm. No offense seems to be taken.
“Can I?” Yunho asks and Mingi grunts out an enthusiastic “yeah” without bothering to find out what it is that Yunho has in mind.
Yunho rucks up the tank top Mingi’s wearing and latches his mouth onto Mingi's chest. As Yunho’s tongue lathes over Mingi's nipple, it's like an electric shock jolts directly from his chest to his dick. It's not even that the sensation is overwhelming, although it’s great—instead, the visual of Yunho plastered against his chest, intent to give pleasure, is what’s really making his cock jump.
Yunho suckles at each of Mingi's nipples and mouths his firm pecs. Mingi's so turned on by that alone that he’s already rutting up against Yunho’s crotch. Yunho takes note of Mingi's desperation and breaks away long enough so that both can shed their shorts. When they reposition, Mingi is lying flat on his back, his legs shamelessly spread so that Yunho can kneel between them. Without being told, Yunho grasps Ming's swollen cock.
It feels insanely good, but Yunho stops before he really gets going. “Too rough,” Yunho comments. Leaning back and unfairly removing his hand from Mingi's cock, Yunho fumbles with a dresser drawer until he yanks out what might be called a “big ole bottle of lube.”
“That bottle’s huge,” Mingi blurts out. “You share that with Wooyoung or something? What do you need such a big bottle for anyway?”
“I don't,” Yunho says cryptically but not defensively. He doesn't elaborate, just pops open the cap and squirts the lube generously on his fingers.
Mingi stares as Yunho once again wraps his long, amazing fingers around Mingi’s length. At this point, Mingi’s cock is reddened and firm. It feels and looks grotesque in Yunho’s pale hand. Mingi wants things to be that way–to see Yunho embrace this new side of him without hesitation or revulsion, and he kinda wants to feel like a freak too. He wants Yunho to be a freak. Freak for freak.
The glide of the lube makes the hand job blissful. Mingi’s so far gone just from the fact that he’s getting attention from Yunho that he knows it won't last long, but even so, he's surprised at how quickly he reaches the edge. With bleary eyes he fixes his gaze on Yunho’s beautiful face. Yunho is glancing between Mingi's twitching cock and Mingi’s probably embarrassing face, intensity and purpose written all over his features. It's the concentration and fierceness that Mingi has seen 10,000 times in practice in the studio and on stage, and it's that expression that he surrenders to.
“You're so,” Mingi chokes out before he comes.
Mingi must black out for a moment because as sensation returns to his throbbing body he feels Yunho peppering kisses against his face. He wants to cry, he wants to sleep, he wants Yunho to keep kissing him, and the latter impulse wins out mostly because it's not much in Mingi’s control.
Eventually, Yunho kisses peter out, and he leans away to give Mingi space.
Space is not something Mingi is interested in right now.
“Your turn,” Mingi says in a gruff voice, ready to move the sun and earth to give Yunho an orgasm. Yunho looks a bit hesitant, an expression that most would read as a smile, but Mingi knows isn’t, not really. Because Mingi has spent years trying to convince Yunho of a whole of things, he’s learned not to argue Yunho into feeling or doing anything. He's trying to be better about offering unsolicited advice too, especially to Yunho. But he can’t help pushing, this time. “If we’re gonna explore each other's bodies I wanna touch yours too, you know?”
“Yeah I know. I want that,” Yunho quickly replies. “It's just, how far should we go?
“I can go all the way,” Mingi's confident reply comes quickly.
“Knew you'd say that,” Yunho gives a soft snort. The vulnerable look he gives Mingi next could melt anyone. “You want to?”
“You know it, yeah,” Mingi says.
Softly, Yunho kisses him as if thinking Mingi needs special care. It makes Mingi a little mushy and vulnerable, because he doesn't want Yunho to ever think he's too delicate. A bit delicate, yes, but not too delicate to say, take cock.
Mingi practically pushes Yunho away. Yunho shifts his weight back to his knees, and Mingi gets on all fours, his elbows sinking into the mattress with the weight of his body.
Mingi explains, “This is the best position for anal. For the angles.”
Yunho laughs softly and repeats “best position.” Mingi thinks it's not a laughing matter, but if Yunho is happy, he'll take it.
“Yeah so just do it,” Mingi says.
“Can I,” Yunho asks, “use my fingers first?”
“Yeah do it,” Mingi says, arching his back and spreading his knees a bit more.
With the help of lube, Yunho’s first finger sinks easily in. It's a breathless sensation to be touched on the inside, but Mingi doesn't tense up. He’s decided to let Yunho stretch him as far as he thinks he needs to be loosened to take whatever size Yunho’s erect cock is. Moans slip from Mingi’s mouth as the pleasure of being fingered increases with each new digit and deeper prodding. Tingling warmth radiates out from his ass, stimulating his spent cock.
Eventually, Yunho pulls his fingers out and there's a beat of silence. Mingi swivels his head to read Yunho. He’s a breathtaking sight—red blush flushed across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Long fingers circle the root of his own long, thick cock. Short strokes force small gasps from a mouth already slack with pleasure. And that cock. Mingi knew Yunho was packing but seeing his cock fully filled out is a stunning sight that simultaneously thrills and makes Mingi's stomach drop. He must lick his lips because he watches as Yunho absently licks his. It's only then that Yunho makes eye contact with him.
“Just the tip,” Yunho says. Mingi nods and says, “If that's what you want,” and then lolls his head toward the pillow and squinches his eyes shut.
Yunho is impossibly slow as he presses his cock inside. As promised, just the tip lodges between the spasming muscles of Mingi's entrance, teasing and massaging until Mingi thinks Yunho’s actually teasing him. That is, until he picks out Yunho’s heavy breathing and little whimpers and realizes this spot is exactly where Yunho wants to be. Just rubbing the sensitive head of his dick where Mingi can squeeze him the hardest. It's a little freaky and a spike of arousal shoots through Mingi's system.
Yunho rocks just barely in and out until Mingi's whole body is tingling. “Fuck,” Mingi whines.
Yunho says something, and he has to repeat it so that Mingi hears correctly. “More. Slide back on it,” Yunho says.
Guess it's not just the tip now, Mingi thinks, but again it's a neutral observation. Mingi's far more turned on and desperate at this point then he imagined he would be after coming. Then again, he’s getting fucked by Yunho, and it would take a stronger man than him to not swoon over that.
Thick intense pressure steals his attention, as he slides back onto Yunho’s cock. Yunho doesn’t press forward; he just waits for Mingi to do the moving. Mingi doesn't know Yunho’s sexual predilections yet but he does know Yunho and he's guessing Yunho just likes it like this. He would never take something slow for Mingi’s sake, the very thought of it is antithetical to what they're about. And there is something remarkable about the position and slow speed—the focus on every tiny motion. It makes Mingi feel precious, treasured.
Once Mingi has seated himself about halfway, Yunho tells him to stop.
“Move on it,” Yunho says.
Mingi starts to complain that it's unfair, but when he experimentally rocks on Yunho’s lube-slicked cock, any other thoughts besides overwhelming lust dissipate. Mingi fucks himself on Yunho's cock while Yunho stays still as a statue, his cock hard as marble. Mingi doesn't know why Yunho chose to fuck like this, but he's already addicted. With Mingi’s level of strength, it's easy to impale himself on Yunho’s dick—sliding it in just as much as he wants and then pulling away before he can even consciously plan to. Mingi falls into a rhythm of fucking himself that's got his cock stiffening fast as it swings below him.
“Yes, yes,” Yunho mutters praises. His hands rest against the globes of Mingi’s ass, not directing, just sponging up sensation.
It's too much. Mingi has to touch himself. He drops his chest to the bed, resting his weight on his upper body while worming his hands to his cock. His dick’s filled out and sensitive, and if things keep up, he's coming again.
“Yes, fuck,” Yunho moans. “Yes, just like that, I'm going to…”
Yunho comes messy and sticky inside. To Mingi it doesn't feel like much other than the distinct throb of Yunho’s cock against his sensitive hole. But receiving Yunho’s load still seems like a major accomplishment and Mingi is overcome with pride and affection.
Mingi redoubles his efforts on his own cock, and it's not hard to fuel enough fantasy remembering how Yunho cradled and fucked him to bring himself quickly toward climax.
Yunho mumbles something, hands sliding to grip Mingi's hips, and suddenly he's pulled back flush to Yunho’s cock, pierced to the root. Speared on Yunho's erection, Mingi pumps his own cock just a few times before he comes with a shout.
“Wow,” Yunho says as he pulls out and collapses. It's an understatement and they both know it.
They cling to each other after that, even as they clean themselves, find their clothes, and situate themselves for sleeping. There's a dull ache inside Mingi now, not just the remembered shape of Yunho's cock in his ass, but the ache of losing that deep physical intimacy. Mingi thinks he understands the clinginess between San and Wooyoung a bit more, although he finds it hard to imagine being in this dreamy, bonded state all day and night like them. To be honest, he's surprised that the feeling of closeness that he and Yunho developed on the double date is still clinging to them even after sating their lust.
He knows why though, and Yunho must too.
They'll deal with it, if they have to, if they want to, later.