Work Text:
The first time Mingi kisses Wooyoung, the first words out of the smaller man's mouth are:
"Finally."
Mingi tilts his head, baffled, because in his mind, he's just done something terrifying, jumped off of a ledge he can't retreat back onto. He's still in free fall, waiting for Wooyoung to explain himself.
"I thought you'd never get the courage."
Mingi's ears burn hot at the words, and his eyes dart between the shorter man's asymmetrical ones, floundering.
"What does that mean?" The words come out a bit more wobbly than he means them to, unsure if Wooyoung is making fun of him or not. The man's eyes soften slightly, and he reaches up to cup Mingi's jaw, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"I've been flirting with you for months, Mangi."
With the gift of hindsight, Mingi is now aware that Wooyoung is completely correct.
He has been flirting heavily with the taller man, so thick that in retrospect Mingi blushes at his own blindness, the dawning of understanding also bringing a wave of mortification.
"Oh."
He thinks of the evening they met, six months ago, when Wooyoung was smoking on a plastic pool lounger alone at some friend of a friend's party. When he was visibly shivering, a mix of his breath and the cigarette smoke trailing through the dark sky. Mingi had frowned, shrugging off his jacket without thinking.
"Hey, why are you out here without a jacket?" Mingi had asked, despite the person in the chair being a complete stranger, and the man had glanced up at him.
Mingi remembers feeling a very strong wave of something, maybe vertigo, his stomach flipping as he made eye contact, and Wooyoung had just twitched an eyebrow at him.
"I stormed out in a huff," he admits, and there's a strange openness to the way he watches Mingi, like he's not bothered how he responds either way. "San pissed me off."
"San?" Mingi struggles to picture his face, but he gets close enough to drape his jacket around Wooyoung's shoulders. "I'm a friend of Yunho's. I don't know if I know San that well-"
"Oh my god," Wooyoung interrupts, and he leans closer, squinting. "Wait, you're Mingi, right? Sorry, I'm pissed as fuck. I can't see that well without my contacts either, to be fair, but my eyes were hurting." The cigarette he's smoking seems forgotten in his hand, a long, precarious tube of ash waiting to drop as he yaps. "I'm Wooyoung."
Mingi politely guides the man's smaller hand from where it's hovering over his thigh, where he's now perched on the lounger beside Wooyoung, and the dark-haired man takes a deep inhale of the cigarette, making the ash drop over himself instead.
"Fuck," Wooyoung whispers, but then he's sitting up to brush himself down, the movement meaning Mingi gets to see the dip of his chest, down, down, almost to his belly button. His tongue gets stuck to the roof of his mouth, hoping he manages to glance away in time when Wooyoung sits back again. "Aren't you cold?"
"Not really," Mingi says, shrugging. He's had enough alcohol that he can't feel it much either way, and Wooyoung's spare hand goes to his knee, squeezing. Maybe it's a little friendly for a stranger, for someone he's just learnt the name of, but he supposes maybe that's expected when they're both near drunk, and it's that strange late evening, early morning where the sky is so dark, slowly turning blue. Wooyoung's hand strokes, just once, twice, before it retreats. It's extremely distracting. "I don't mind you wearing my jacket, if that's-"
"Oh, no, I just thought, if you were cold, we could share," he murmurs, and he looks up at Mingi from under his eyelashes, something that makes the taller man's heart stutter over itself. "You can come under the jacket with me if you want."
He looks fucking sinful, the way his lips look around the filter end, eyes sharp even in the poor lighting. Mingi's not sure what is wrong with his guts, but they twist, turn, hot and tight. He bites down on his bottom lip, stuck on the flush on Wooyoung's cheeks from the cold, the flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks.
"Oh, I'm-I'm not cold, thank you," Mingi says, unable to think straight when the smaller man is still staring at him like that. He gets out his own cigarettes, desperate for something to ground him, and lights one up. "Do you want another?"
"Mmm," Wooyoung hums, eyes scanning over the taller man's face as he seemingly considers. He stubs out the one that's smouldering at the filter and grabs a new one from the pack. "You're weird."
"Weird?" Mingi parrots, eyebrows flying up in mild offence. He doesn't know if he's done anything particularly weird, outside of maybe staring a little too much, and he pouts without thinking, "You don't even know me."
"Yet," Wooyoung says, poking his tongue in his cheek as he grins. Mingi's pulse does something a bit weird behind his left eye. "You seem like a weirdo."
"Hey, I'm not-" Mingi tries, and Wooyoung leans over so he can light their cigarettes, gesturing the taller man closer. It shuts him up, caught off-guard by their sudden proximity, how much more clearly he can see the brown of Wooyoung's eyes like this.
"I like weirdos," the man whispers, as Mingi manages to lean close enough despite the vague static that's beginning to course through his entire body, and Wooyoung clicks the lighter, maintaining eye contact.
Mingi can't think of a good response to that, brain rendered useless as it spins helplessly, the alcohol and the first rush of nicotine leaving him dizzy. Maybe something else adds to it, but Mingi's not thinking about that at 1 AM when he's struggling to form words, let alone thoughts.
"Okay," Mingi says, unsure if his voice even sounds right anymore, wondering if the strain is as obvious to Wooyoung as it is to himself. "Are you a weirdo?"
"Maybe," Wooyoung shrugs, but he's obviously amused, eyes sparkling as he takes in Mingi's form again. It makes him feel a bit breathless, the way his eyes drift over his body. "Do you want to find out?"
"Sure, that's why I asked, right?" Mingi mumbles, taking another drag. Wooyoung sucks in a breath of his own, eyes moving down to take in his lips. "You look like you were a RuneScape kid."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Wooyoung's eyes are so obviously amused as he watches Mingi go through the seven stages of grief in front of him, the cogs so clearly turning in his head that he can see the way the younger man is holding back a laugh.
"Like when?" Mingi tries, and he can feel his bottom lip beginning to jut out, his expression starting to shift to pleading unconsciously. "Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not," Wooyoung promises, and he steers Mingi to the familiar sofa behind them, crawling onto his lap as soon as he's seated. "Trust me, I'm not."
And it doesn't feel like he is, really, not if Mingi looks past his own embarrassment. It seems more like he's greatly enjoyed watching the taller man crack, and now, as Mingi's blushing and obviously shy, he appears almost fond. His dark hair falls across his eyes as he moves closer, and Mingi reaches to tuck it away without thinking.
"Months?" Mingi checks, and the younger man giggles as he brushes their noses together, seeking Mingi's lips.
"Don't you remember Yunho's birthday party?" Wooyoung asks, and Mingi blinks at him as best he can with how close they are. "You didn't realise at all?"
Yunho's turning twenty-six, and it's annoying because Mingi's pretty sure he only just turned twenty-five, and he's still just as difficult to buy gifts for.
It also means that Mingi has to endure another party, but the torture doesn't feel quite so bad when he spots Wooyoung through the - in his opinion - much too dense crowd.
At this point, they're probably friends, Mingi hopes, anyway. Maybe it's a bit childish, the giddy joy he gets around the other man, but he can't bring himself not to seek it, and he weaves his way around the group gathered near the drinks table towards where he thought he saw Wooyoung.
"'Youngie!"
Wooyoung barely leaves his side for the rest of the night; in fact, mostly on his lap for the majority of the evening, giggling as Yunho and Seonghwa drunkenly sing. Mingi is mostly distracted by keeping his breathing completely even, despite the way Wooyoung wiggles and moves as he laughs, too drunk to realise that he's driving the larger man close to insanity with his innocent actions.
It makes Mingi feel like a pervert, in the moment, unable to be normal about his friend in a completely platonic situation, and Wooyoung glances at him to tilt his head.
"You okay? You're so quiet," he asks, and Mingi's heart flutters pathetically, a weak smile tugging at his lips.
"I'm good, I just like listening to you," Mingi says, probably too honest for what's supposed to be an excuse, and Wooyoung chuckles as he settles back down, wiggling to get his back flush to the broader man's chest. Mingi stares at Yunho instead, hoping the visual reminder of his best friend, the man who has repeatedly sent him the most heinous videos on Reddit, the man who has vomited on him in an Uber and cried about it, will make him not think about Wooyoung's ass moving against his cock.
It's later, however, that Wooyoung is probably trying to remind him of.
The dark-haired man had dragged Mingi to his apartment with a sort of single-minded, harried energy, which at the time the taller man had attributed to drunkenness. Mingi's smart enough to realise with hindsight that Wooyoung had wanted Mingi to fuck him.
"Come here," Wooyoung mumbled, stumbling towards the couch. Mingi wasn't quite sure how drunk the other man was, but the slump of his posture as he fell onto the cushions indicated at least some amount of intoxication. "Do you want to watch a movie?"
Mingi had tried not to look like he was looking around the room, despite the way he definitely was, desperately trying to find out clues about the man who was currently untying his boots and kicking them across the room. He'd walked slowly, taking in the art prints on the walls, the row of books on the windowsill. Greedy for knowledge about the other man, nosy despite his usual politeness.
"Oh, yeah, sure," Mingi'd said belatedly, shrugging, because it seemed random but mostly in character, slipping into the space left for him on the sofa. "What do you want to watch?"
Wooyoung had spent the entire movie edging closer to Mingi, inch by inch, crawling into his lap and curling around him. His heart had been thudding loudly, more focused on that and Wooyoung than the movie they were supposed to be watching. He can't remember anything about the plot.
Wooyoung's hand had strayed to Mingi's thigh, tracing up, down, up, down, hypnotising and so distracting that it was hard to do anything but remember how to breathe.
Then the film ended, and Wooyoung yawned.
"Bed?"
"O-Oh, yeah, I should g-go," Mingi had made an attempt at standing up, but Wooyoung outright whined in response, clinging tighter. "No?"
"I'm drunk," Wooyoung pouted, even though it had been over an hour since they had drunk anything, and they were definitely starting to sober up at least a little bit. "Aren't you going to help me to bed?"
Mingi thinks maybe that even now he would react the same way as he did back then, too lost in the throes of being useful to understand the subtext, jumping to help.
Wooyoung was placid as Mingi undressed him, getting him out of his uncomfortable jeans, his shirt, slipping a big, soft sleep shirt over his head.
It had been painful, every inch of skin revealed and then hidden, every stretch of muscle that he only caught glances at, too much and not enough. It was easy to be distracted, to miss things, when Wooyoung had blinked up at him with hooded eyes and went on tiptoes to press a kiss on Mingi's cheek.
"Thanks, Mangi."
"I should let you sleep," he'd whispered, probably looking a bit stunned as his ears flared red, taking an awkward step back. His heart had been pounding at this point, horrified at the idea that somehow Wooyoung might be able to hear it.
"You can stay," Wooyoung murmured, sitting on the bed and staring up at him deliberately. "If you want."
"I… I should- I have work-" Mingi had stumbled through excuses, mostly because of the way his cock was starting to chub up. Wooyoung was watching him, thighs exposed as he blinked, slow, measured. "I have work in the morning."
"Oh," Mingi whispers, another humiliating wave of realisation smacking him, and Wooyoung takes great joy in giggling against his mouth. "God, I'm sorry, I was just-"
"It was sweet, I think," Wooyoung says, and he pulls away, much to Mingi's disappointment. "You were so happy to help, didn't even want anything out of it."
"I wanted you to sleep well," Mingi admits quietly, and Wooyoung's eyes do that strange soft thing again. "I went home and jerked off, if that makes you feel any better. You were driving me crazy I-"
"I know," Wooyoung says, grinning, and Mingi's shocked into silence. "I knew exactly what effect I was having on you, baby."
"You did?" Mingi doesn't know if that makes his humiliation any less intense in the moment, apparently as see-through as clingfilm.
"It was only last month you were still running away from me, bright pink and embarrassed," Wooyoung points out, smirking as Mingi's ears burn hot as if to prove the smaller man's point. Wooyoung leans closer, lips over the shell of his heated ear. "Did you jerk off then, too?"
Mingi's fucked, truly, because he's locked himself in the bathroom and he's so hard he can't think straight.
Wooyoung is probably doing it on purpose, almost definitely, because there's a mischievous joy that accompanies his actions that makes Mingi's brain stop working, blood flooding to his cock. The lack of a functioning brain, however, means he can't quite figure out why Wooyoung is so obsessed with teasing him.
It doesn't feel cruel. It doesn't feel like when Yunho jokingly ribs on his outfit choices or how he stutters over a word either, though; it feels different. Mingi can't put his finger on it. It's easier to focus on his resentment of Jongho in the moment, for having a rich cousin who lets him use the villa with a private pool, for inviting Wooyoung, for inviting Mingi.
It gives Wooyoung a chance to show off, which he does, and it's entirely too much skin to be seeing from someone who Mingi's struggling not to fantasise about fully clothed. The swim shorts Wooyoung is wearing are tight, bright red, and short.
Mingi feels his hands balling into fists without consciously doing so, and he tries to remember his seven times tables to distract himself from the unrestricted access to golden skin he has right now, the way the material hugs along Wooyoung's hips, the swell of his small ass.
Wooyoung doesn't make it easy, however, coming over to bother him, asking Mingi to rub sunscreen on his back. It feels like maybe God's out to get him, in this moment, already willing down any pooling of blood to anywhere that isn't vital for survival.
Every brush of his fingers against Wooyoung's soft skin makes him dizzy, struck with the realisation of who he's touching with every movement. The man stood in front of him giggled, like he'd known something that Mingi didn't.
"Do you need me to do yours?"
"O-Oh, I mean-" Mingi tries, but Wooyoung's already spinning, gesturing for the sunscreen.
"Turn around," he commands, and Mingi obeys silently, unable to find the words to stop the situation. Not sure if he wants to, torn between the buzzing that's starting to gather in his limbs, and the lurch of nerves that pull at his stomach. "God, you're broad."
"Thanks," Mingi grunts, and he's glad he's facing away, because he's pretty sure his face is bright red.
Wooyoung takes his time, hands dragging slowly across Mingi's skin as he massages in the product, pressing hard against the tenseness of his shoulders. It feels much too sensual for what it is, nails scratching gently against his spine, thumbs pressing into where his lower back curves, where he holds all his tension.
"Relax, Mangi," Wooyoung whispers, too close, voice too deep with something that makes Mingi's cock twitch. "Doesn't that feel good?"
Mingi makes some sort of affirmative noise, scared to speak in case his voice shakes, and Wooyoung's hands slip down his waist, over his hips. He feels the man press himself against his back, hot against him, skin on skin.
"Words, puppy," the smaller man says, low and breathy in Mingi's ear. His dick throbs, blood pooling there as it rushes past his ears. He can feel his flesh flaring hot with it.
"I need to go," Mingi blurts, and he's bolting before Wooyoung can see the hard-on he's sporting, can pick apart what the vivid burn of his neck means.
So, like the loser he is, he tugs at his cock mindlessly in the villa bathroom to memories of Wooyoung's voice in his ear and cums, biting down on the back of his hand to stop any noises slipping out. Wooyoung watches him with a sort of amused pleasure the rest of the day. Mingi doesn't know how he knows.
"Yes," Mingi admits, and Wooyoung's eyes light up. Glad to see the effectiveness of his actions, to be proven right. "I couldn't thin-think when you were touching me, saying that shit-"
"Mmm," Wooyoung hums, and he's so obviously pleased with himself that Mingi's entire body feels alight. "You do go kind of dumb when I touch you, don't you, puppy?"
Mingi bites down on his lower lip, blinking at the man in his lap, unable to formulate a response when the dark-haired man twitches an eyebrow at him. Wooyoung's so warm, sat against him like this, thighs pressed against Mingi's hips, arms wrapped lazily around his neck.
"You're so cute, y'know," Wooyoung says softly, before the distance between them is gone again and the shorter man is kissing Mingi hungrily.
He kisses Mingi like it's all he's wanted to do for weeks, months. Mingi can't process that properly, not when his cock is filling out steadily in his shorts, when Wooyoung is nudging his tongue into his mouth like he's trying to consume him. Mingi lets him, opening up and allowing entry, too lost in the swell of it all as Wooyoung's thighs squeeze around him.
"What do you think about when you touch yourself? Hm? What do we do?" Wooyoung pries, breathing ragged as he pulls far enough away to speak, and the larger man squeezes his eyes shut for a second, as if that will make the situation go away. Like he wants it to.
"You let me fuck you," Mingi whispers, as if that isn't a telling sentence on its own, and Wooyoung looks practically giddy at the words when he peels open his eyes again, grinning as he takes it in. "I-I… I want to make you feel good."
"Hm…" Wooyoung appears to be able to read him for exactly what he is, desperate and eager to please. He tucks some of Mingi's hair behind his ear for him, eyes glittering. "Let you, huh? Do you beg for it, puppy?"
Mingi thinks maybe he's on fire, because he can feel the flames licking his skin, red-hot and prickling. Wooyoung watches him appraisingly, like he can see straight into the complicated spirals of his brain matter and see all his perverted thoughts.
"Yeah," he gasps out, breathy and pitiful, and Wooyoung giggles, glee in it. "Whatever you want, 'Youngie, I'm serious, I-"
"Whatever I want?" Wooyoung sits back, pretending to think, ruined by the way he can't stop smiling, and Mingi watches the shine of spit on his lips catch in the lights of his living room. "I want you inside of me, baby. How does that sound?"
"Please," Mingi pleads before he even realises, gazing up at the man who's perched on his lap, the mischievous smirk on his face. "Please, I'm sorry I didn't realise, I want you so badly, 'Youngie."
He shivers at the look in Wooyoung's eyes as he stands, dragging Mingi to his feet.
"Don't apologise, sweetie," he murmurs, steering Mingi through the corridor to his bedroom. He lets himself be moved, placid, hand in hand with the shorter man, "I know you do; you're so obvious, pup."
"Hng?" Mingi grunts, unable to actually formulate coherent thoughts, tongue numb from his own neediness. Wooyoung's bedroom door creaks as it opens and closes behind them. "D-Don't tease me."
"But you love it," Wooyoung points out, and he's pushing Mingi onto the bed impatiently, crawling between his legs. The position exposes where he's getting stiff, bulge so visible through his thin sweat shorts, and the smaller man traces one finger over the hardness, featherlight. "Look."
"S-Sorry," Mingi can barely think, sure he's slipped into some alternative universe where his dreams are finally reality. Wooyoung's hands slip under his shirt, scratching up over his abdominal muscles, his ribcage.
"I thought I said not to apologise," Wooyoung murmurs, dipping to press a kiss on Mingi's lower stomach, nosing at the crease of his pec against his chest, hands roaming over his torso seemingly at random. "You're so perfect like this, all dumb and pink."
A rush of strangely self-conscious pride rolls through him at the words, and his hands are shaky as he reaches for Wooyoung. The man shuffles closer, kissing along his jaw, just under his ear, mouthing at Mingi's sensitive neck. He can feel the swell of Wooyoung's ass against where he's now fully hard, unable to ignore the waves of pure want that ebb through him.
"It's okay?" Mingi whispers, and Wooyoung pops up to make eye contact, collarbone abandoned to reach for his cheek. "That I'm like this?"
It goes unspoken, the seeking of reassurance, the silent request to hand over control. Wooyoung nods so quickly that Mingi worries for his neck.
"Fuck, it's okay, pup, I promise," he rushes, and the kisses he plants on Mingi's mouth are a bit clumsy, not always quite on the mark. "You are so good, just like this, okay?"
Mingi nods, shy now that he's got the reassurance he's asked for, dipping his head awkwardly. Wooyoung coos.
"You gonna let me take what I need, yeah?" Wooyoung asks softly, hands back to roaming over Mingi's body, fingertips dipping into his waistband. The light tracing of skin on skin feels wounding, so much bigger than it actually is. "You don't have to worry anymore, hm? Just trust me."
"F-Fuck, okay," Mingi whispers, and he lifts his hips so that Wooyoung can strip him, blushing at the way his eyes widen in response to his cock as it springs out.
Mingi knows he's big, but he's more distracted by how he's so hard it probably should be embarrassing, his tip is shiny, bubbling with precum as his abdominal muscles twitch, making his cock jump pathetically. Wooyoung's tongue peeks out to wet his lips.
"Jesus, Min," Wooyoung whispers, and Mingi swallows, audible in the silence of the room.
Mingi's so flushed, from his cheeks to his chest to his cock, red and burning under Wooyoung's eyes. He lets the smaller man take his shirt off, too, naked on Wooyoung's bed, under Wooyoung's gaze.
"You were driving me crazy too, y'know," Wooyoung says quietly as he reaches into the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging. Mingi watches the back of his head with surprise. "The way you would be trembling when I touched you," he murmurs, and he moves back, dropping the lube on the bed so he can run his hands over Mingi's body as he lies there. He smirks. "Still do."
And it's true, Mingi's muscles unable to stop shivering when it's Wooyoung who's touching him, nails scraping over his nipples lightly. It sends shocks of sensation through his nerves, making his hips twitch up before he remembers and forces himself still.
The dark-haired man snickers, shedding his own shirt and trousers. The black boxers he's wearing are short, closer to briefs, but tight as they hug his hips, his ass, over his bulge. He's obviously hard too, straining in the pouch of his underwear, and the confirmation of mutual interest only makes the heated atmosphere between them thicker. Wooyoung crawls down, lips tracing over Mingi's hipbones, his spasming abdominal muscles.
"'Youngie," Mingi whispers, and he can barely make himself heard over his own screaming brain, everything Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung. The man's lips press against his full balls, gentle as he drags them up, over the shaft of his cock. "Fu-Fuck."
"I want to make you feel good too, puppy," Wooyoung tells him, tongue lolling out to lap over the veins of his swollen dick, over his slit that's still drooling seminal fluid. "You're so wet."
Mingi feels like his lungs have been squeezed, a plastic bag rolled up too tight, all the air forced out. He whimpers under his breath, quietly, and Wooyoung catches it anyway.
"You gonna be good for me, sweetheart?" He asks, and he pauses what he's doing to stare up at Mingi, eyes dark as he seems to check for something.
"Yes," Mingi manages, and then Wooyoung takes the taller man's tip between his lips, starting to suckle gently. "F-Fuck, yes, Woo, for yo-you."
It doesn't feel the same as all the clumsy hook-ups he's rushed through, the ones who would try their best to suck him off and give up quickly, jaw aching. He's thicker than people are used to, and the enthusiasm for his size is usually preceded by mild frustration or a subtle, obvious decline of interest as they realise what it actually requires.
Wooyoung doesn't appear to have the same issue, however, as he slowly takes more and more into his mouth, bobbing his head, taking Mingi down deeper than he was expecting.
The thing that makes Mingi's blood thrum faster, more than the tight wet heat of the other man's mouth, is the fact that Wooyoung's apparently enjoying himself. It doesn't appear to be a chore.
He's not that subtle as he grinds himself against the mattress, and he pulls back abruptly to shove his own underwear off, gasping as he ruts back against the sheets again, obviously seeking more friction.
Mingi isn't sure if he's even still alive anymore, convinced he may have been transported to some strange version of heaven where he gets everything he wanted, and it's just as good as he had pictured. If not better.
Mingi's breathing hitches weakly, head falling back onto the pillow, and Wooyoung carries on as if he hasn't made a noise. Saliva bubbles at the corners of his mouth, frothing and dripping down Mingi's balls, making it slicker as the smaller man reaches to massage them, increasing the rolling heat that's bubbling in his gut.
"Shit, baby," Mingi grunts, and his hand is grabbing blindly for anything to hold onto, the sheets, a handful of dark hair. Wooyoung moans softly around his cock, vibrations making his muscles jerk at the feeling. "Oh fuck."
Every time he thinks Wooyoung is going to get bored, give up, he carries on, enthusiasm renewed as he glances up to see the way Mingi's struggling to stay still, chest heaving, pink down to his belly button. It's only when Wooyoung's body twitches that the larger man realises that he's already started stretching himself open.
He can't really see from this angle, but it looks as if the smaller man is about two fingers in, eyelids fluttering as he slobbers on Mingi's dick. His rhythm stutters as he keeps going, as Mingi tries his best to keep a lid on all the overwhelming, scorching feelings that are rocking through him. He doesn't want to cum yet, despite how fucking good it feels to have Wooyoung's mouth around him like this, but it's hard to think of things to distract himself with when he can see the way the smaller man is starting to struggle with multitasking.
Wooyoung, thankfully, pulls off to rest his forehead on Mingi's hipbone, fingers still working inside himself as he pants, and Mingi's nails start moving to scratch at the dark-haired man's scalp. He's glad he's given the chance to calm down, certain that much longer and he wouldn't have been able not to embarrass himself, cumming straight into Wooyoung's perfect mouth.
"Mangi," he gets out against Mingi's warm skin, breathless, "Need you inside me, baby, please."
"You'll need more than t-two," Mingi whispers, and Wooyoung snorts, rolling his eyes. He feels his ears burn again. "I'm not boasting, I'm just saying-!"
"I know," Wooyoung cuts him off, and Mingi thinks maybe, adds another finger, if the way he hiccups into the safety of skin below him means anything. "Is th-three okay?"
"Mmm," Mingi hums, and he can't help himself when he reaches to stroke over Wooyoung's temple, his hair, his neck. His eyes open, blinking up at him as best he can from the strange angle. Mingi's chest feels too tight. "Can you do four?"
Wooyoung makes a petulant noise, but carries on, leaning into where Mingi's still scratching his scalp, panting softly against his skin. It's strangely intimate, in a way that he can't quite put a finger on, trying to soothe as Wooyoung stretches himself open. The smaller man wriggles closer as he does, tangling their legs together in some strange way that Mingi can't work out when he can't pull his eyes away from every micro-expression that crosses Wooyoung's face.
"Fuck," he mutters, lips pressed flat against Mingi's pec, eyelashes fluttering against his skin, "O-Okay, I think I'm ready."
"Okay," Mingi whispers, and Wooyoung removes his fingers so he can shuffle up to straddle him, and he can feel the slickness of the lube against his pelvis. "You want it like this?"
It's normally the best way, Mingi has figured out over the years, letting them control the speed of the stretch. He doesn't like hurting people. It's not in him, but he wants that to be up to them. How much they can take.
"Mmm, just like this, baby," Wooyoung says, and he's reaching back to line up Mingi's cock with his hole, watching him closely. "Okay?"
"Y-Yeah," Mingi stutters, abruptly aware of what's about to happen, of the weight of Wooyoung's body against his own, "Yeah, I'm okay."
His tip slips past the initial resistance, the first ring of muscle, and Wooyoung makes a noise that sounds almost winded.
"Don't rush," Mingi says quietly, reaching for the smaller man's hips to steady him. "We have time."
"Stop saying sweet things," Wooyoung groans, head falling back a bit as he sinks down a little further. Mingi has to clench his toes hard so he doesn't make any weird sounds, and he blinks blearily at the other man as he gradually takes it. "I already like you."
"You do?" Mingi asks, brain struggling to register that when Wooyoung's halfway down his cock, and his eyebrows are furrowed just like that, his lips so pink from where he's biting them and-
"Obviously," Wooyoung interrupts his thoughts with his words, and the way he clenches up, breathing stuttering. "Fuck, Jesus."
"We don't have to-" Mingi tries, and Wooyoung sends him a death glare. "Do you want more lube?"
"Hm," Wooyoung reaches for the bottle, as if it were his own idea, and Mingi mourns the loss of him around his cock, flinching a little as the cold gel gets squirted on his dick. "Maybe you should have a smaller cock."
"I'll try," Mingi says, brain-dead and shivering when Wooyoung realigns himself, starts the process again. "I'd do anything for you."
Wooyoung giggles, but then rests his forehead against Mingi's shoulder, relaxing against his body as he slowly engulfs the larger man's dick.
It's easier, this time, slicker and wetter, but easier. Wooyoung moans against Mingi's neck as he sinks to the base, thighs trembling where they're pressed against his hips. He doesn't sound pained, just breathless as he sits flush to Mingi's pelvis, so warm around him.
"God, you feel so good," Wooyoung gets out, breathless as he moves to press a kiss on Mingi's lips, fleeting. "I've changed my mind, you have the perfect size cock."
Mingi can't stop the ridiculous snorting laugh that falls out of him, and Wooyoung lights up at his reaction, grinning as he wraps his arms around Mingi's neck.
"'Youngie," he says, and the fondness is so obvious in his tone he's surprised Wooyoung doesn't call him out. "You take it so well, so perfect."
"Thanks," Wooyoung kisses him again, and again, before he finally, gradually, starts a tentative rhythm. "Now, sit there and be good, hm?"
Mingi nods instantly, the hands on Wooyoung's waist doing nothing to guide the movements, simply just there to feel the man's warm skin. He watches, mesmerised by the way the smaller man's body moves, the feeling of his muscles as they pulse around him.
Wooyoung whimpers beautifully as he fucks himself down, nails digging into Mingi's shoulders as he uses them to hold on, nose brushing against his as he seeks closeness. It's hard not to see the romance in it, the way Mingi's heart beats loud and constant as Wooyoung kisses him between breaths, the feeling of his tight, wet heat as he rides, the way they are intertwined so closely.
"Puppy," Wooyoung says, all breathy and giddy, lips sliding against Mingi's own. "You know, now, you're mine, and I'm gonna use this fucking huge cock whenever I want, yeah?"
Mingi's stomach flips at the words, and the moan that he lets out is so weak and pitiful, swallowed by Wooyoung's mouth.
"Y-Yeah," Mingi agrees, the idea of it making his entire being feel a notch more taut, wound up a degree tighter. "Whenever you want."
"Get you all hard out with our friends, so I can use you to cum in the bathroom, and leave you all desperate and trembling, hm?" Wooyoung pulls back enough for Mingi to see that his eyes are almost entirely black with how blown out his pupils are, cheeks pink with desire. "See if you can behave for the rest of the night, how good you can be."
"Please," Mingi can't really even see anymore, it all gathering hot and intense in the pit of his gut, his legs twitching with the effort he's putting into not cumming, desperately gripping Wooyoung's hips as he keeps going, seemingly unendingly enthusiastic. "Please, 'Youngie, I'll do whatever you want, anything, I promise, pl-please."
Wooyoung moans in response to how desperate he sounds, the way he's crumbled into begging, achingly close and fevered with it.
"I've been good, haven't I?" Mingi whimpers, teeth stinging with how hard he's clenching his jaw, unsure how long he has left before he plummets over the edge. "Please, please, let me cum."
"Fuck," Wooyoung gasps out, and he's reaching down to stroke himself mindlessly, movements shaky and urgent. "Fuck, yes, baby, you can cum, you can cum, inside, Pup, yeah? Be good, inside, inside, fuck."
Wooyoung babbling as he gets close himself is equal parts hot and endearing, and it's with a painful thump of his heart and a white-hot roll of pleasure that he starts to cum.
He doesn't think he's had an orgasm as intense since he first figured out what they were, vision swimming as it washes bright and scorching through him, muscles spasming in response.
Wooyoung keeps going, extending it, until he's suddenly seizing up, going silent as he spurts semen over their stomachs. Mingi stares at him, panting, and Wooyoung slowly relaxes as he falls through his climax, eyes peeling open as he shivers to the end of it.
"Fucking hell," Wooyoung says, and Mingi giggles at him, reaching to pull him closer. "Christ, I can't believe you kept that from me for months."
"Shut up," Mingi mumbles, tucking his face into the safety of Wooyoung's shoulder as he pulls himself off the larger man's now flaccid cock. He winces quietly at the sensitivity, hidden by the dark-haired man's skin. "You can… You can have it whenever you want."
It comes out less sexy than he wants it to, much more shy and hesitant than intended, and Wooyoung hums, all pleased and giggly.
"In return, can I take you on a date?" Wooyoung asks, nails back to scratching at Mingi's scalp, all gentle and soothing. "If I get access to incredible dick 24/7, I should at least take the dude attached to it on some nice dates."
"The dude attached to…?" Mingi splutters, and he pulls back to stare at Wooyoung, who just laughs at his expression. "Aish, you better be taking me somewhere real nice."
"I will," Wooyoung promises, and he's leaning to kiss Mingi again, apparently not just something they do when hooking up. "I really like you, Min. I'm serious."
His eyes look serious, for once, as he speaks. Mingi blinks, and he knows his ears are starting to turn red as he nods slowly.
"I really like you too," Mingi manages to force the words out, and it's rewarded with the prettiest smile he thinks he's ever seen. "Can we… Are we trying this? Or, am I reading this wrong, I mean-"
"Yes, please," Wooyoung blurts, cutting him off. "I want to try this properly with you, Mangi. Like boyfriends."
"Oh," Mingi thinks the grin on his face is probably goofy, with how big it is, but he just nods, bridging the gap between them to kiss his boyfriend. "Boyfriends."