Chapter Text
Mingyu doesn’t know how exactly it begins, but one summer evening, Wonwoo decides to start a game that neither of them can come back from. It starts simple. They’re in the kitchen, and Mingyu is cooking ramen. Wonwoo’s leaning on the counter watching him.
“Care to help?” Mingyu gestures to the stove. The steam rises from the pot and warms his cheeks.
“Not really,” Wonwoo says. “I’m very comfortable just watching.”
Mingyu rolls his eyes. "I really shouldn't feed you. Next time I’ll make enough only for the other members.”
“You want me to go hungry?”
Mingyu doesn’t fall for his innocent expression. “It would serve you right.” He raises the spoon in his hand threateningly. Wonwoo chuckles, and it’s this low, silky laugh, all velvety and deep, and Mingyu’s heart flutters a little. He feels a bit lightheaded ( from the heat, he tells himself) and turns his attention back to the ramen.
He stirs it absentmindedly. A few moments pass.
Mingyu hears a whine. “Gyuu, is it done yet?”
The way Wonwoo says gyu makes Mingyu soften. Wonwoo doesn’t use the nickname that often, usually only when he’s sleepy or tired, or in this case hungry, but it’s always a little too cute for Mingyu to handle.
Mingyu offers a glance. “I’m cooking for thirteen. Patience.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “Maybe you’re just slow."
“Someone’s grumpy.” Mingyu points with the spoon. “Just tide yourself over. Eat those strawberries or something.”
There’s a bowl of fresh strawberries left out on the counter, courtesy of Seungkwan who had started to eat them before Hansol had distracted him with memes. Wonwoo stares at Mingyu, and does this thing with his mouth. Mingyu doesn’t think it’s meant to be a pout, because Wonwoo wouldn’t be caught dead pouting, but it’s something like a pout, and it makes his lower lip look fuller.
Mingyu’s eyes flicker down to Wonwoo’s lips, just a for a second, and Wonwoo’s face changes into an unreadable expression.
The heat… it’s a hot summer day, and ramen on top of that. That’s all. It’s just messing with my head. Mingyu turns back around, and breathes out silently, eyes focused on what he’s making. Sometimes Wonwoo’s a little too pretty for his own good, and Mingyu hates it, because he’s definitely straight but Wonwoo’s just… well, he’s Wonwoo.
“Mingyu.”
Mingyu ignores the call.
“Mingyu!” Wonwoo demands.
“I said that it’ll take awhi-” Mingyu starts, but his words fade as he turns around.
Wonwoo’s decided to lean against the counter, his pretty mouth puckered around the strawberry, eyes dark and tilitating and staring right at Mingyu. Wonwoo sucks on the strawberry slowly, and the colour from the juice has stained his lips as pink as the berry itself.
Mingyu’s face burns. He swallows. “What are you doing?” he asks, mouth dry.
Wonwoo licks his tongue around the strawberry. “I think you were right,” he murmurs. “This will help tide me over.” He’s literally sucking on a strawberry, staring at Mingyu with darkened eyes, and Mingyu thinks this might be it. The cause of his death will be the dork that is Jeon Wonwoo teasing him with a strawberry.
“I’m always right.” Mingyu tries for confident, but it comes out weak.
“Are you?” Wonwoo doesn’t break eye contact. He swallows the strawberry, but his lips are glistening and soft, and Mingyu finds it hard to breathe. Is Wonwoo… is Wonwoo flirting with him? It’s absurd, Mingyu knows it’s absurd, because it’s Wonwoo and they’re just friends and their relationship is strictly platonic but-
Wonwoo smirks at Mingyu’s expression, and oh. Mingyu gets it. This is a challenge.
It’s not flirting. It’s something more absurd, something only Wonwoo could come up with. They both love winning insufferably, to the point that most members hate playing games with them, but this - this is new territory even for Mingyu.
Still, there’s something in Wonwoo’s eyes, and Mingyu has never been able to resist playing along.
He lets himself smile. “I’m glad it’s tiding you over, because the main course… well,” Mingyu says, narrowing his eyes, and he slides his hand down his own torso, subtly but with intention. “That’s going to be something you won’t be able to resist.”
Wonwoo’s eyes flash and the game is on.
“Is it just me, or are those jeans way too tight for Mingyu?” Jeonghan utters. Mingyu hears the comment and smiles. The jeans he’s wearing are skin tight, a size too small, and hug his ass like there’s no tomorrow. It’s not a pair he wears often, but today he flaunts them.
Wonwoo’s sitting on the couch next to Jeonghan and pointedly avoids eye contact.
“Really, Mingyu, what’s up with those? They look like they’re going to cut off your circulation,” Jeonghan says, concerned.
Mingyu smiles. “Nah, don’t worry Hyung. I wore them because they look hot on me.”
Wonwoo can’t resist making a comment. “Yeah, or you forgot to do the laundry,” he says.
“I’m the only one who even cleans!” Mingyu protests. Wonwoo shrugs, eyes still on his cell phone, and Mingyu frowns because Wonwoo got him so flustered yesterday and Mingyu isn’t doing as well as he’d thought.
He’s still not sure why they’re playing this subtle game of what’s essentially gay chicken, but Mingyu knows he has a great ass and he’s determined to prove it. He crosses to the TV, pretending to look for something.
“Has anyone seen my phone charger? I think I lost it.” It’s a blatant lie, but it gives him an excuse to bend down and look under the TV. He can feel the jeans stretch nicely over his ass and he hopes Wonwoo is looking. When he turns back around, Wonwoo’s eyes are on him, but they flick away when Mingyu meets his gaze.
“Where, oh where, is my charger?” Mingyu wonders loudly.
Wonwoo is staying silent, acting like his cell phone is the most interesting thing in the world. Jeonghan glances between the two contemplatively, and seems to understand that this is part of some… weird Mingyu-Wonwoo thing.
Mingyu’s original plan was to just flaunt his ass from afar, but before he can control himself, he strides over to the couch, and he sees Wonwoo’s hand tense around his cell phone. “Maybe my charger’s under the coffee table,” Mingyu says decidedly.
The coffee table is in front of the couch, and it would make sense for Mingyu to look under it by bending from the opposite side, but he instead squeezes into the space between the couch and the table, so that his body is inches away from Wonwoo. “Sorry, Wonwoo-hyung,” he says as he looks under the table, hair falling in front of his face. He’s pretty sure his ass is basically in Wonwoo’s face at this point, and Mingyu’s heart is pounding out of his chest. He hadn’t intended to go this far.
He stays down there for a moment. “Not here,” Mingyu mutters, and as he stands back up, he accidentally? hits Wonwoo’s face with his ass. It’s only a little brush, and Mingyu’s not really sure what he’s doing anymore. “Sorry,” he says, and it’s half-truthful.
When he gets out of the space and looks, Wonwoo’s cheeks are warmly pink, and the boy has decided that the ceiling is apparently fascinating to observe. His hands are clenched so tightly around his phone that Mingyu honestly thinks he might break it. Across from the couch, Jeonghan is staring with wide eyes.
“Did you just - “ Jeonghan says, eyes narrowing. “What just happened here?”
Mingyu’s hair is disheveled, and his heart is racing. He can’t form a response.
Wonwoo looks uncomfortably at the ceiling, and says, “Nothing. It’s… nothing.” His voice sounds strained, and Mingyu counts that as a big win on his part. Wonwoo’s always been more composed than Mingyu, so any reaction out of Wonwoo is a victory as far as Mingyu’s concerned.
Jeonghan just looks between the both of them, trying to figure out the details of their shenanigans.
Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck and stands up. “I have to go... uh… I have stuff to do.” He glances at Mingyu for a split second, and this time Mingyu looks away, because he’s really not sure what game they’re playing here.
Wonwoo looks at him for a moment more, then hurries off like he might die any moment.
Mingyu runs a hand through his hair. Then he winces, because these pants really are too tight, and he’s starting to wonder if any of this is as platonic as he first thought.
A week passes, and Wonwoo doesn’t do anything. Mingyu thinks, okay, good, maybe this is over, and we can pretend those embarrassing things never happened.
Mingyu certainly doesn’t want to think about how he strut his ass in front of Wonwoo, and he definitely doesn’t want to think about Wonwoo’s pretty mouth around that strawberry. Mingyu shakes his head. No. He definitely does not.
“I hope we can all fit in the cab,” Seungcheol says.
It’s around 11 PM, and the sky is dark, littered with stars. There’s a slight summer breeze and the streets smell like Korean food and alcohol. The five of them - Seungcheol, Mingyu, Wonwoo, Soonyoung and Seokmin - had headed out to grab some food and drinks for the evening. They didn’t usually spend time off like this, but the weather was perfect and they’d needed a break.
None of them drank much, but Mingyu can still feel the warmth of alcohol in his system. He glances over to his right. Wonwoo’s skin looks especially dewy and nice under the bright moonlight. Mingyu must have been staring, because Wonwoo meets his face, and smiles.
“Today was nice,” he says.
Mingyu nods. “Yeah. I mean, sorry we went to a seafood place. I know you can’t... you know.”
“It’s okay,” Wonwoo says graciously. “I didn’t mind. They had other food.”
Mingyu nods, and they share a smile, one that feels a little too intimate and sweet. Even though him and Wonwoo are always bickering, there are still moments where Wonwoo softens around him. They’re friends, after all, and always will be. There’s no one Mingyu trusts more.
“Okay, let’s just try to fit.” Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair, opening the door to the passenger seat of the cab. “Squeeze in, guys.”
Soonyoung and Seokmin slide into the backseat first, and Mingyu barely jams himself into the remaining space. They all look over at Wonwoo, who seems to realize that there’s no way in hell he can fit.
“Shit,” Soonyoung says. “Won, you can’t fit in?”
“Not with this giant boar taking up all the room,” Wonwoo declares. He doesn’t have to say Mingyu’s name to make his point.
“A boar?” Mingyu demands.
Wonwoo sniffs. “Yes.”
“I say we leave him,” Mingyu says. “He can walk back.”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, hand reaching for his wallet. “It’s fine, I’ll go in a separate cab.”
Seungcheol seems to finally catch on to the dilemma. “You guys really are hopeless without me. Wonwoo, you’re skinny. Sit on someone’s lap and let’s get going. We have practice in the morning."
“Someone’s lap?” Wonwoo sounds aghast.
“Yes, someone’s lap. ” Seungcheol’s voice is amused now.
“Yeah, but-”
“I’m your hyung.” That seems to be his final argument.
Wonwoo stares at the three members seated in the passenger seat, and his eyes finally settle on Mingyu. Something shifts in his expression. “Fine.” Wonwoo curls into the space, and tentatively sits down on Mingyu’s lap, closing the door behind him. Mingyu’s heart flutters for a moment, because Wonwoo could have sat on anyone’s lap, but he chose him. Granted, Mingyu was the closest one, but still.
It feels oddly nice to have Wonwoo seated on his lap, like he belongs to Mingyu, and oh dear god, he did not just think that. He did not just think that. Mingyu rapidly shakes his head. It must be the alcohol.
As they drive down the road, Mingyu stares out at the flashing city lights passing by. The city looks so lively and vibrant, and Mingyu is lost in the scenery when they past a sudden roadbump. Wonwoo stumbles in Mingyu’s lap, and Mingyu’s hands, without thinking, reach for both sides of Wonwoo’s waist.
Mingyu’s hands are clammy as they rest on Wonwoo’s tiny waist, and Wonwoo stills in his lap, like he’s afraid to move. The ride smoothes out, and Mingyu knows he should remove his hands, but he can’t let go. It feels good to hold Wonwoo, like it’s the most natural thing in the universe. People have always told them that they look good together, but Mingyu had never seen how until now.
They just worked.
Platonically of course.
Wonwoo shifts in Mingyu’s lap, and the pressure makes Mingyu flush slightly. He knows Wonwoo is probably doing it innocently, so Mingyu tries to focus on the scenery again.
But then Wonwoo shifts again. And again. And it’s starting to be too frequent for Mingyu to brush it off as innocent. The pressure of Wonwoo’s ass in his lap, shifting so much, is causing Mingyu to forget how to breathe.
Fuck. This isn’t good.
“Hey,” Mingyu says lowly. “Can you stop moving?”
“Sorry,” Wonwoo says, but he doesn’t sound very sorry. “Just trying to get comfortable.” With that, he essentially grinds down on Mingyu, trying to get - comfortable? - and Mingyu’s mind goes blank, because the game, the stupid game, and fuck - oh fuck. This isn’t good. Mingyu’s glad he’s wearing jeans, and not something loose, because this could turn very embarrassing very fast.
“Wonwoo-hy-hyung,” Mingyu stutters as Wonwoo shifts again. “Stop it.” He keeps his voice quiet, by Wonwoo’s ears, so the others don’t hear. Wonwoo must hear the tremble in his voice, because he shifts again, and Mingyu - oh fuck, Mingyu can feel things getting uncomfortably tight down there.
He prays to whatever Gods and Goddesses that Wonwoo can’t feel it.
The Heavens must be against him, because instead, they end up on a bumpy road, and now Wonwoo can’t even control the ass shifting, and Mingyu’s - Mingyu face feels hot, and he’s sure he’s turning red, because the situation is getting out of control. Wonwoo finally notices the extent… of the issue, and he murmurs, “Sorry,” and it seems to be for real. He tries his best to stay still, but the road is bumpy and Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut and leans his head back.
Fuck his life. Fuck. He is semi-hard in the backseat of a cab with his platonic best friend Wonwoo sitting on his lap. Mingyu wants nothing more than to disappear.
When they finally arrive home, everyone else tumbles out of the cab except Wonwoo and Mingyu. Mingyu’s face feels like a hot spring, and his heartbeat is spiralling out of control. Wonwoo glances back at him, and they meet eyes for the first time since they entered the cab.
“I’m… uh…” Wonwoo runs a hand through his hair. “Should I get up?”
Mingyu’s mouth twists. “I just need… I just need a moment,” he breathes.
“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo’s playing with the ends of his sleeves now. “I didn’t think… it just…”
“It’s fine,” Mingyu grits out.
Seungcheol pops his head in. “Hello? Earth to Wonwoo and Mingyu? You both just going to sit there?”
Their leader is staring them down, trying to decipher what the hell is going on, and Mingyu knows he can’t just keep sitting there. He figures he can take his chance. He’s wearing jeans so it’s not too noticeable, and it’s starting to subside. His hands are still wrapped around Wonwoo’s waist.
“C’mon,” Mingyu says, gently tugging at Wonwoo. “Get up.”
Wonwoo obeys, and they manage to make it into the house without anyone noticing, probably because Wonwoo stands in front of Mingyu the entire time. The moment they get inside, Mingyu kicks off his shoes and heads upstairs.
He’s making a beeline for the bedroom so he can sufficiently die in peace, but he hears footsteps behind him and groans inwardly.
When they reach his bedroom, Mingyu turns around and crosses his arms. “What are you following me for?”
Wonwoo stares at him, looking guilty and wide-eyed, and Mingyu can’t bear it, because Wonwoo makes him soft. How can he stay mad? Besides, it wasn’t like Mingyu hadn’t agreed to this… stupid, dumb challenge. Still, it was in the car, and if someone had found out, Mingyu would have thrown himself into the abyss. His face reddens at the thought.
Wonwoo shifts on his feet. "Look. Uh. I didn't mean to..." He trails off, like he can't bear to speak.
Mingyu’s heart is still hammering in his ears. “Won,” he says, quieter now. “What are we doing?”
Wonwoo looks like a deer caught in headlights. He’s tugging on his sleeves insistently now, a nervous habit. “I don’t know. It was nothing.” He looks away. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a pause. Mingyu hates seeing Wonwoo so vulnerable. He doesn’t want Wonwoo to feel bad, because he gets it. They were doing something dumb, and it went a little too far, and it’s not like Wonwoo wanted him to possibly get humiliated in public. Mingyu knows that, and when he stares into Wonwoo’s timid gaze, he can’t tell him off. He just can’t.
Logically, Mingyu should just forgive him and move on from the game. Then their friendship can peacefully resume.
But there’s another part of Mingyu that doesn’t want this to stop. This shy, buried part, a part Mingyu wants desperately to ignore. But it’s this part that controls why he does what he does next.
Mingyu places his hand under Wonwoo’s chin, tilting his head up. “Don’t be sorry,” Mingyu says, hands sweating and heart pulsating. There's a heated silence. “Just remember, you get what you give.”
It’s ominous. Wonwoo’s eyes widen a fraction.
A long pause.
Wonwoo swallows, and says hoarsely, “Game is on?”
And Mingyu already knows he’s going to regret this for the rest of his life, but he can’t stop himself. He nods. “Game is on.”