Work Text:
I think I’ve got my sight for you,
I don’t mean to let it brew
DPR IAN - So Beautiful
In the past nine years of Wonwoo’s career, he surely has met all kinds of people, some of them better than the others and some of them being equal to the burning of the Library of Alexandria. Walking catastrophes. The baby soft skin has turned into leather and Wonwoo has toughened himself up enough to not be phased by anyone he meets. It’s needed for an industry like his.
The fashion photography industry is a ruthless little thing, with people playing pretend to be nice and kind, acting like they are your best friend, while plotting how deep exactly they need to nail the metaphorical knife in your back so you die and they can step right over your corpse, one human closer to making it to the top.
Wonwoo has these people sorted out, in respective boxes inside his brain, he knows very well which ones to keep close, which ones to stay wary of and which ones to keep as far away from him as possible.
Kim Mingyu is possibly all three.
Wonwoo doesn’t remember the first time he met Kim Mingyu. At least those are the lies he feeds himself, every second of the day. The truth is, he remembers it all too well and it still leaves his mouth tasting like steel and his fingertips tingle at the memory.
Now, Wonwoo thinks that if you really want to achieve something in life, you should work for it even if it’s the last thing you should do. That’s what he did, back in high school when he used to babysit the kids around his neighbourhood, work at the shelter for absolutely minimum wage, later working in the town’s book club for a penny. Wonwoo worked, and he worked hard because he was determined and stubborn. That’s what got him his first camera, a dingy thing that he bought from the pawn shop. On most days, the camera refused to work even if Wonwoo tried anything to get the pictures to come out. On some days, Wonwoo would spend the whole day outside, in the forest, in the park, out in the open fields despite his pollen allergy, his finger clicking away as he snapped anything that he thought was worthy.
Wonwoo worked for it for years, risking the disapproval of his family when he told them he wanted to go to university, but not to study business or medicine as his family wanted, but to pursue photography because he felt like it was the only thing that was truly him. Something that he saw himself doing for the rest of his life. So Wonwoo enrolled in the university, suffered through the long period of his parents’ disappointment but he eventually made it, even though he felt like he made it by the skin of his teeth. When he showed his parents his diploma and the report back from one of the biggest fashion editors in Korea, he cried happy tears along with his mother because he proved to them he did it.
Naturally, when Kim Mingyu flaunted himself into the company’s annual party one day, dressed in all designer with a few of Cartier bracelets clanking on his wrists, teeth so white and sharp they didn’t seem natural and introduced himself as one of the photographers, Wonwoo felt respectfully angry.
It was so painfully obvious that Kim Mingyu was born with a golden spoon in his mouth that it made Wonwoo kind of sick, and all he did was look at the expensive watch, those polished shoes and at that smile which looked cheap, but definitely wasn’t. He got himself drunk on a few flutes of champagne that night, and pretended like every glance he took at Kim Mingyu didn’t make his guts twist and turn in his stomach.
Wonwoo was okay with pretending Kim Mingyu doesn’t exist and he was capable of ignoring that some of the good deals, the top notch photoshoots were suddenly given to Kim Mingyu even though Wonwoo was assigned to them months prior. Wonwoo closed his eyes and pretended like none of it ever happened.
Wonwoo classified Kim Mingyu as his worst enemy, back in the day because he squirmed himself under Wonwoo’s skin and just stayed there, itching and burning as Wonwoo dug his nails into his skin and tried to claw him out. Mingyu’s artistic suggestions and creative outlet just added fuel to the fire, because Mingyu was good. Wonwoo has to give that to him, even though the man makes Wonwoo grind his teeth. Mingyu’s good at what he is doing, knows he is good, it’s much more unfortunate that his position didn’t come from years of hard work but rather having an influential daddy who will only do the best for his son if he never tells a word about his papa’s tax frauds and the little drug cartel he has going on.
Now, Wonwoo is sure no one knows what a pig Mr. Kim truly is, but he can only thank Soonyoung for digging up that dirt on him. Even though it cost Wonwoo a few ten thousand won for a couple of Soonyoung’s favourite peach Soju. As much as Wonwoo sometimes wants to scream at Kim Mingyu, spitting I know your secret and You’re just like your father in front of the whole company, Wonwoo has morals, boundaries. Wonwoo always strived to be a better person. Wonwoo doesn’t tattle on people, especially when it involves something so serious that he could let out one word about it and their whole career, life, everything they’ve worked for their whole life, would shatter. Wonwoo doesn’t want to be the reason somebody’s whole world falls apart.
There is something incredibly infuriating about Kim Mingyu, something that leaves the insides of Wonwoo’s mouth tasting like stomach acid and his cock rock hard. If Wonwoo thinks past Kim Mingyu’s persona and the way his character leeches off of people like a hellish parasite, Kim Mingyu is unfairly attractive, a human so beautiful with features looking like they were carved out of a white marble by the most careful hands. When Wonwoo lays his eyes on him, for a brief second he thinks Mingyu should be the one on the front pages of their magazine, every single issue until Mingyu falls old and grey-haired. Something heavy sinks into Wonwoo’s stomach and his fingers start to tremble, like Mingyu’s do when he snorts a thin line of cocaine before a photoshoot or in the middle of a lunch break, perfectly separated by his black credit card. Glittery nails glimmering under the bathroom’s floor, eyes going hazy and unfocused as Mingyu transcends into another dimension for a few minutes.
Wonwoo wasn’t supposed to find out, Mingyu bit it into his neck as he slammed Wonwoo against the bathroom door so hard Wonwoo momentarily thought his spine cracked. Mingyu shushed him shut with his nimble fingers around his cock, as he stroked him fast and sharp until Wonwoo milked himself dry, with his lips on Wonwoo’s as he kissed the life and soul out of him. Wonwoo kept the secret perfectly safe, but more often than not, when he gets reminded of how incredibly infuriating and… so full of himself Kim Mingyu is, they start to tickle the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo will never tell, but he wants to.
It’s the same as right now, when Wonwoo is standing in the entry to the studio, stunned by the sight in front of him. The lights are on, filling up the room with an artificial white glow, and there’s a crowd of people in front of the photo wall. Of course, Kim fucking Mingyu is the star of the show, the center of everybody’s attention, the one everybody desires to have, to be like him.
It’s not because Mingyu is freakishly tall and towers above almost everybody in the room, it’s because the aura around him is so suffocating Wonwoo sometimes gets choked up when he’s alone with him. Mingyu’s smile is kind and bright, but there’s a devil underneath that grin. Something much more sinister than Wonwoo cares to find out.
You don’t play with Kim Mingyu if you’re not ready to win the game.
Wonwoo almost groans before his eyes focus on Mingyu entirely and he takes in what the other boy is wearing.
Now, Kim Mingyu is no stranger to fashion, always sporting the most fashionable pieces from brands where four digits are the starting price. Mingyu never wears anything above one thousand dollars, simply because that’s not who he is and because he deserves better. What Wonwoo actually really likes and admires about Mingyu, even though he will never admit it out loud, is that Mingyu isn’t afraid to experiment with the clothes he wears either, often mixing his styles up and dipping into the stereotypically labeled female clothing. More often than not, Wonwoo has seen him walk into the office in a skirt or in a blouse that Wonwoo saw in one of the feminine collections they received or he saw him strut in Christian Loubotin heels, the shoes click clacking around the whole office.
It’s not envy because Wonwoo is much more than comfortable in his cardigans, dress shirts and dress pants, it’s an admiration that Wonwoo sometimes feels when he looks at Mingyu. It’s a shameful little thing that always makes Wonwoo feel a little dirty because there is nothing admirable about Kim Mingyu and the way he leads his life.
In Wonwoo’s defense, he’s always been a little stupid.
Kim Mingyu, in all his glory, is standing in the middle of a crowd of people who would do everything and anything just so that Mingyu would even as little as look at them, as they putter and run around him like puppets under the hands of a puppeteer. There’s a flash of red and a flutter of gold and Wonwoo realizes it’s Mingyu’s make-up: he’s wearing a cherry red lip gloss and there are smudges of bronze and gold and coal around his eyes, making them look sharper and as feline as ever. Foxy eyes. Except foxes are not as deadly as Kim Mingyu is. Not as deadly as the blazer he is wearing: a simple black in colour but completely open, leaving Mingyu’s caramel skin out for everybody to see. Even though Wonwoo is on the other side of the room, he can still see the shimmer of a golden highlighter on his collarbones and the metal flash of a thin bar right through his right nipple.
A thin strip of white diamonds hugs Mingyu’s waist and oh. That’s new. Wonwoo recalls never seeing Mingyu wearing a waist chain before. Wonwoo doesn’t know if he likes it or if it makes him extremely furious.
There’s a hem of something black just below and a second oh of the fucking evening because Mingyu is in nothing but tiny little boxer shorts that leave little to no imagination. His cock is basically completely out if it wasn’t for those thin patches of black lace on the sides. Wonwoo can feel his blood starting to boil.
“You look a little pale, Wonwoo-ssi. Are you okay?” A voice comes from somewhere next to Wonwoo. It’s Seungkwan, one of their make-up artists. A cute one, Wonwoo can admit, albeit sometimes a little too cute as he always trails after Jeonghan, the main make-up artist, asking all kinds of stupid questions with unmasked enthusiasm and a true joy. Wonwoo has witnessed Seungkwan getting told he will be working with Mingyu a couple times and the way his eyes lit up like thousands of tiny Christmas lights was both endearing and also kind of sad. If Seungkwan knew the truth, Wonwoo bets he wouldn’t be so excited anymore.
“I’m fine Seungkwan-ah. Are you perhaps done?” Wonwoo asks as nonchalantly as he can, raises the camera around his neck a little to signal Seungkwan he wants to have some test runs before the next photoshoot to see if the camera is in perfect condition. Yaddi yadda bullshit, it’s all just a pretense but Seungkwan buys it like he always does. In reality, Wonwoo just wants to have a word with Mingyu, maybe tell him to stop flaunting himself like a piece of candy.
Not because Mingyu is much more than that, he’s a human being underneath all that pretty. No, because it actually makes Wonwoo see red.
At Wonwoo’s blatant display of disinterest to further the conversation any more, Seungkwan wanders back to the crowd with a polite smile and a little bow. Wonwoo isn’t entirely too sure what to think of him: Seungkwan might be a little too nice for such a toxic environment where all people care about is themselves.
The fatal blow comes when the crowd clears a little and Wonwoo gets a sight of Mingyu from top to bottom, his eyes stopping at the high knee boots that come almost to the top of his thighs. They’re suede, the blackest black with red chunky heels. It matches with the lip gloss he is wearing and unfortunately Wonwoo knows Mingyu did this on purpose. He knows how much he likes to match things with each other, be it the little emerald stone inside his earring with his socks or lipgloss with the actual heels of the boots. Intricate, but Wonwoo doesn’t let himself dwell on it too much.
As he slowly moves closer, Mingyu catches his eyes for a second. He watches him as he talks to other people, wrapping them perfectly around his fingers, making them think they got all of his attention. The way his eyes darken as they fall on Wonwoo, the way they seem to harden around the edges even more as something inside them melts, that tells a completely different story. Mingyu doesn’t give a shit about these people.
Wonwoo makes himself comfortable at the back of the room, puts his camera on the table for a bit as he fiddles with his phone. He checks his messages to see if Soonyoung didn’t text him something important, checks his bank app to see how much exactly he can splurge before the rent is due. Wonwoo thinks of Mingyu and hates himself for it, because many things, many of his habits seem to colarate with Mingyu and it’s the sickest feeling Wonwoo has ever felt. Mingyu isn’t supposed to affect him so much, positively or negatively, he shouldn’t affect him at all. And yet, he stays on Wonwoo’s mind longer than he would’ve wanted, squirming himself under Wonwoo’s skin and staying there, despite Wonwoo scratching and digging at his skin to claw him out.
Wonwoo doesn’t notice the room is completely empty, except for a certain person until the said person comes closer to him, his tall figure blocking some of the light shining on Wonwoo.
“How thoughtful of you to come and see me, Wonwoo. What a shame we’re already finished.”
Mingyu is awfully skilled at pretending to be sweet, kind and genuine. If Wonwoo didn’t know better, he would actually believe him, he would probably blush like a stupid high schooler too, his heart fluttering inside his chest. But Wonwoo knows what Mingyu's true deal is and his words are anything but honey. They sure as hell might be a poison.
“I’ve seen you flaunt your little ass in front of these people way too many times. What makes you think that today is special?” Wonwoo replies, voice steel cold as his eyes don’t leave the screen of his phone. If there is something that is guaranteed to make Mingyu act up it’s when he feels like people don’t give him enough attention. He’s an attention-seeker, Wonwoo’s learnt that and it’s a hidden ace in his cards.
Mingyu’s heels clank against the floor as he steps closer, only inches away from Wonwoo who still remains unbothered.
Despite looking all peachy and cool on the outside, something flares up inside of him. Mingyu is fun to toy with.
“Maybe because you’ve never seen me dressed like this before?”
Wonwoo scoffs, “Like what?”
Mingyu lets out a little sigh, theatrical and overly dramatic as he cocks one hip to the side. Wonwoo doesn’t want to but his eyes fall on the chain around his waist and the way it contrasts with Mingyu’s caramel skin.
“Wonwoo, don’t play dumb. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
The smile Wonwoo gives him is as artificial as one can be, “Yeah, I was just wondering if you really have no dignity left.”
This seems to do it for Mingyu. He thinks Wonwoo doesn’t notice because he tries his best to conceal it but the slight flutter in his eyelashes and the barely there furrow of his perfectly sculpted eyebrows is hard to miss.
“Even if I didn’t, that never stopped you before.”
One step closer, and Mingyu is now an arm length away from Wonwoo.
“Actually, looking back, it almost seems like you liked it,” Mingyu purrs, and gives Wonwoo a sickly sweet smile. Wonwoo follows the cherry red against his stark white teeth and comes even closer. Mingyu taking off his heels because he is already so tall is a dying wish inside Wonwoo’s brain.
“That must be your fucked out brain telling you stuff, sweetheart, ” Wonwoo mimics the smile Mingyu just gave him, but more sweeter, plays a bigger pretend than Mingyu.
“Weren’t you off your rocker that day?”
Mingyu narrows his eyes at Wonwoo and with the heavy eyeshadow and eyeliner, it’s just a hazy darkness. He hates that Wonwoo knows about his dirty little secret, because no one is supposed to find out that the CEO’s beloved son is snorting crack secretly in the men’s bathroom and has his dealer on speed dial.
They meet in the middle after that: Mingyu moves to shove at Wonwoo and Wonwoo quickly raises his arm and wraps his fingers around Mingyu’s throat. He’s not gentle, he presses the pads of his fingers into the spots that make Mingyu see stars a little too roughly. Wonwoo savours the little surprised gasp that Mingyu lets out.
Wonwoo leans in and noses at the space below Mingyu’s ear, purrs out a quiet “Now, not so quick, sweetheart,” and tightens his fingers just for a second. When he lowers his arms, Mingyu’s neck is already painted with angry red which will bloom into bluish-purple shapes of Wonwoo’s fingertips. And the funny thing is, Mingyu isn’t going to bother hiding that he likes a rough hand around his throat, leaving him gasping all high and fuzzy. He never does. He’s shameless like that.
“What do you want?” Mingyu asks, voice quiet and composed compared to the storm inside his eyes.
“What do I want?” Wonwoo laughs quietly, in disbelief, “What do you want, Mingyu? You’re flaunting your little ass like a whore in front of the whole company and you’re asking me what I want?”
“Don’t call-”
Fingers around Mingyu’s throat again, Wonwoo leans his face so close to Mingyu’s he can almost taste the mintness of Mingyu’s exhales, “Call you what? A whore? I thought you liked it though. My bad, I guess, I thought I heard you beg for me to call you whore when I fucked you senseless at your birthday party while your daddy was sleeping in the other room. Or the dozen times after that. I must have been wrong every single time.”
Wonwoo just then notices how blown out Mingyu’s pupils are. Either he’s already getting turned on or he’s high as a kite. Wonwoo bets it’s the latter.
“You’re the prettiest when you’re silent,” Wonwoo whispers before he kisses Mingyu, finally getting a taste of that cherry red lip gloss. Mingyu licks up into his mouth quickly as he presses himself against Wonwoo, his hands finding their way into Wonwoo’s hair to grip and pull. It’s a messy kiss with Mingyu’s lips smearing the red gloss all over Wonwoo’s mouth, even his chin because Mingyu doesn’t care about going slow. When he wants something, he wants it right then and there. Making Mingyu wait for something is like digging yourself your own grave.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want it too,” Mingyu whispers between the kisses before he dives in again, pushing his tongue in Wonwoo’s throat so he can swallow every gasp, every breath that leaves Wonwoo’s body.
The thing is, Wonwoo wants it just as much. Mingyu is good in bed, more than good actually, better than anyone Wonwoo had the chance to screw with. He knows where to put his hands to make him tremble, where to kiss and where to bite, he knows how to keep him on the edge until Wonwoo almost begs, he goes wherever Wonwoo follows. He never does because he’s not Mingyu who is a shameless whore in bed but he’s been pretty close a couple of times. Unfortunately for Mingyu, he’ll never hear the world please leave Wonwoo’s mouth.
Wonwoo knows that sometimes actions speak louder than words so he lets his arms circle around Mingyu’s waist as he presses him even closer. Wonwoo gets a handful of Mingyu’s ass, squeezes his left cheek in his hand, rough and careless fingers because it makes Mingyu gasp wonderfully into his mouth as he tries to push his cock against Wonwoo’s thigh.
Wonwoo pulls away for a second, looks into Mingyu’s eyes again. They’re hazy and dazed, reminding Wonwoo of a forest veiled in a thick fog.
“Are you off your face again?” Wonwoo whispers quietly and Mingyu pauses before he gives him a barely there nod. It’s a little funny how Wonwoo absolutely despites Mingyu for this but he can recognize it so quickly.
“Isn’t it better when I’m smashed?” Mingyu whispers back, his lips back on Wonwoo’s as they take what they want, biting Wonwoo’s lips and nipping at them so hard Wonwoo almost tasted blood. It hurts like a bitch but it’s what he likes, the little sting of Mingyu’s crooked canines and how it burns a little the next day when he swipes his tongue over it.
“You’re a disaster both sober and when you’re fucked up,” Wonwoo gives Mingyu a bite back, at his soft lower lip and licks at the lip gloss. Wonwoo turns them around so Mingyu’s back is against the table and, with fingers digging into his plush thighs, Wonwoo hoists Mingyu up and sits him down on the table. Mingyu wastes no time before he pulls Wonwoo against him, legs wrapping around his waist. He crosses his ankles at Wonwoo’s ass, heels digging into Wonwoo’s ass.
Wonwoo’s fingers dance all over Mingyu’s thighs, his calloused skin contrasting with how soft Mingyu’s is. He’s always shaved completely smooth, his skin silky soft to the touch and just begging for Wonwoo to touch, to get a little taste. Wonwoo screwed Mingyu over so many times, took him from behind, from the front, on his back or on his stomach, against the wall and against the hood of Mingyu’s Cadillac, he’s felt his skin so many times but Wonwoo always gets a little shocked at how silky and velvety a human skin can get. It’s blemish free, absolutely perfect, as if it wasn’t real. Carved out of marble, maybe.
Mingyu tries to mask how affected he is by the warmth of Wonwoo’s hands on his thighs and on his hips and how slowly and torturously they slide up Mingyu’s chest until his thumb presses against his pierced nipple. After nearly two years of fucking and playing this push and pull game, Mingyu is still so surprisingly sensitive. It’s arousing, dizzying for Wonwoo to know that he can take Mingyu apart just with his hands, no matter how hard the younger fights back.
Mingyu gasps quietly when Wonwoo rubs at his nipples, dragging his nails softly against them. Mingyu looks both gorgeous and a little comical with red smudges all over his face but Wonwoo loves him messy the best.
“Wonwoo,” Mingyu gasps and punctuates it with a whine when Wonwoo suddenly pinches at his nipples, harder than intended. It’s a strange feeling to hear his name roll off of Mingyu’s tongue like that, almost no bark and bite, just buttery smooth and sweet.
Mingyu digs his ankles deeper into Wonwoo’s thighs and tries to press him even closer, tries to get his cock to rub against Wonwoo’s thigh and when he does, Wonwoo isn’t at all surprised that Mingyu is already rock hard in his underwear. The cocaine running in his veins probably makes everything infinitely more sensitive, more arousing, more real. And as much as Wonwoo would love to toy and play around with Mingyu some more, the zipper of his pants is uncomfortable against his swollen crotch and Mingyu’s red lips would look sinfully pretty wrapped around his cock.
“Get on your knees,” Wonwoo orders, steps back a little and pulls Mingyu up by his arms. Mingyu’s knees wobble slightly as he gains control over his limbs again before Wonwoo is spinning them around, making Mingyu kneel in front of him by pushing at his shoulders.
Mingyu falls on his knees like it’s his natural state.
Wonwoo gets a smile from him, a blissed out quirk of spit slicked cherry red lips, “You want me to suck your cock, Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks, all sweet and pretending.
“See, you didn’t fry your brain completely,” Wonwoo replies, voice like honey, before he tips Mingyu’s chin with one finger. Wonwoo steals him a few seconds to look at Mingyu, to take in the gentle features of his face contrasting with the black lace on his body and the little freckle at the tip of his nose calling for him, a blemish on a nearly perfect skin.
Wonwoo blinks himself out of this haze and traces Mingyu’s slick lips with his thumb. Mingyu’s mouth falls open immediately, quickly sucking Wonwoo’s thumb between his lips. Mingyu’s eyes fall and his eyelashes flutter as he hums at the back of his throat. Mingyu’s mouth is wet and hot, inviting and tempting for Wonwoo to just push his cock in and fuck Mingyu’s throat. Mingyu sucks Wonwoo’s thumb into his mouth eagerly, coats it with his spit as he tongues around it, all while his eyes are on Wonwoo’s as he moans obscenely around Wonwoo’s finger. Wonwoo’s fingers trace Mingyu’s cheek gently, a touch too tender for the story they’ve written for each other, before he pushes his thumb even deeper until Mingyu makes a choked up sound in his throat, feels Mingyu constrict around his finger as he sputters heavily, spit spilling from his lips and down his red stained chin.
With one hand, Wonwoo unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers, until they’re at least down to his thighs.
Mingyu gets a sigh of Wonwoo’s cock, heavy and swollen and red at the tip, and something in his eyes twinkle, Wonwoo feels him swallow around his thumb. Wonwoo hates to sound conceited and like a narcissistic bastard but he knows no one does it for Mingyu like him. No one is able to put up with such a high demand person like he can.
Wonwoo pushes his thumb deeper one last time, feels and hears Mingyu choke one last time, before he pulls his thumb slowly from Mingyu’s mouth. He sweeps it across Mingyu’s lips one last time, then he wipes his spit slicked thumb on Mingyu’s cheek.
“What are you waiting for?” Mingyu asks quietly, voice raspy and spit-heavy as he flutters his eyelashes at Wonwoo.
“Open,” is all Wonwoo says before the same hand that was just in Mingyu’s mouth goes to his hair and grabs him by the strands, roughly and tightly. Mingyu opens on command, sticks his tongue out and lets Wonwoo to pull his face closer and closer until his mouth is stuffed full of Wonwoo’s cock.
Wonwoo hopes that Mingyu doesn’t hear the low groan he lets out once his cock is enveloped by the tight heat of Mingyu’s mouth. It’s been a while since Wonwoo got to get his hands on Mingyu, both of them being busy with their respective tasks and business. So When Mingyu’’s lips wrap around the head of his cock and he swirls his tongue around the tip, Wonwoo’s body fills with warm pleasure, heavy and heady in his bones, as his head starts to feel a little floaty.
Mingyu works his mouth around his cock eagerly, like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do in his life, he takes him all the way down his throat until Mingyu’s nose is pressed against Wonwoo’s abdomen and his throat screams at him to let go. He chokes around his cock for a while, enjoys the feeling of being choked with Wonwoo’s cock and he pulls off with a string of saliva connecting Wonwoo’s cock and his lips.
Mingyu spits into his hand and wraps his hand around Wonwoo’s cock, jerking him off quickly as he gets his mouth on him for a little while, biting little marks into Wonwoo’s thighs and hipbones. Wonwoo groans when one of the bites is particularly rough and nippy but the pain goes straight to his cock instead.
Then, Mingyu’s hand gets replaced by his mouth again as he takes Wonwoo all the way. Tears start to smudge Mingyu’s eye make-up, the mascara leaving thin black streaks on his cheeks.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Wonwoo whispers against the lump in his throat and with gentle fingers, he brushes away some of the tears around Mingyu’s eyes. In return, Mingyu opens his mouth as wide as possible and slides his mouth even lower, the tip of Wonwoo’s cock now proving against his throat creating a visible bulge.
Wonwoo moves his other hand into Mingyu’s hair, holds him in place by twirling some of the strands around his fingers and pulls tightly, his other hand trailing down the side of Mingyu’s neck until he touches where his cock probes against the front.
Wonwoo presses his fingers against the spot, against Mingyu’s Adam's apple and relishes in the way Mingyu sputters, attempting to move his head away from Wonwoo’s cock. He doesn’t get far because Wonwoo’s fingers don’t move an inch as he holds Mingyu on his cock, chokes him until Mingyu is crying for real, make-up ruined and cheeks painted peachy pink colour. It’s only when Mingyu pinches at Wonwoo’s hipbone when Wonwoo lets go of him, brushes his fingers through his hair instead of pulling at them.
Mingyu gasps for breath when his throat is suddenly empty and he coughs for a couple of times, lips naturally red under the smudged lip gloss. When Wonwoo looks at him, ruined eye make-up and messy lip gloss and flushed, glowy cheeks, he considers taking a picture for a second.
“You were really made for sucking cock,” is what Wonwoo says instead.
Mingyu stands up on his wobbly knees and he stumbles a little, his bare knees already scratched and bruised from the hard floor. He tries to say something but he gets choked up again, clears his throat until he feels like he can breathe again.
“Lean over that table, spread your legs,” Wonwoo instructs Mingyu with a gentle hand on his waist. Mingyu does what he’s told, leans the upper half of his body on the table and spreads his legs like Wonwoo told him to. Mingyu’s spine curves into a perfect S as his thigh muscles flex due to the high heels.
Wonwoo kneels behind him, lets his fingers ghost over the lace adoring Mingyu’s hips.
“How much were these?” Wonwoo asks as he traces the lace patterns. The boxers look good, Mingyu has always looked good in lace. Dark navy blue and burgundy red pieces are Wonwoo’s favourites but the black works him up nonetheless.
“Three hundred I think,” Mingyu answers and gets Wonwoo’s hum as an agreement. Wonwoo steals himself another few seconds where he just traces the lace with his fingertips, savours the contrast between the roughness of the fabric and the smoothness of Mingyu’s skin.
Then, in a split millisecond, Wonwoo rips the boxers in half. The ripping sound cuts through the silence of the studio, followed swiftly by Mingyu’s gasp and “Wonwoo!”. Any further protests Mingyu had died inside his throat because Wonwoo’s fingers are quick to spread his cheeks apart and push his face in, Wonwoo’s tongue diving in and lapping over Mingyu’s hole.
Mingyu jolts at the sudden action, hips pushing forwards in desperate chase for some kind of friction while Wonwoo digs his hands into the meat of Mingyu’s ass, pushing his fingers hard into the skin because Wonwoo wants to leave marks, a little blooming imprints of his hands, tongue pushing inside Mingyu desperately and eagerly like a dog who hasn’t eaten in days.
Even though Mingyu is the one on the receiving end, Wonwoo basks in the little sounds Mingyu makes, gasps and ah’s and oh’s that grow into full, blown out moans the more Wonwoo works his tongue over and inside Mingyu’s ass.
Wonwoo bites at Mingyu’s left cheek while his other hand comes onto the right one in a rough slap, the skin tinting red almost immediately. Mingyu curses quietly under his breath, pushing his ass more and more towards Wonwoo.
“Tell me sweetheart,” Wonwoo murmurs quietly against Mingyu’s skin, licks a strip over his hole and pushes in, “Did Junhui ever eat you out like this? Or Jisoo? Did they bury their pretty faces in your ass and make you come with their tongues?”
A shiver rips through Mingyu’s body who only moans in response, hands gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turn white. Wonwoo guesses there’s a pool of precum where Mingyu’s cock rests untouched and aching against the cold surface of the desk. He’s always been a little messy, a little wet, but that’s what Wonwoo likes.
“No,” Mingyu gasps out at Wonwoo spitting at his hole before Wonwoo digs in again, this time with a finger chasing after his tongue. When Wonwoo pulls away to thumb at Mingyu’s hole, the skin around is dark pink and glistens with his spit. Wonwoo presses the first digit in without a warning as Mingyu cries out, throws his head back and pushes his ass further onto Wonwoo’s finger.
As Mingyu’s thighs start to quiver, Wonwoo helps him to bend his leg and rest it on the table. Wonwoo can’t help himself but bites roughly at Mingyu’s skin and sucks until Mingyu cries out again, his arm coming from behind to grip at Wonwoo’s hair and push his head back towards his ass.
“Do it again,” Mingyu whispers, begs quietly as his head falls to rest against his ass. Wonwoo would be a fool to decline such a wish. He licks over Mingyu’s hole again, this time slowly and more debaretaly, takes his sweet time to coat Mingyu’s hole with as much spit as possible.
Wonwoo raises himself from his knees, presses his bare cock against Mingyu’s ass as he leans over him, fingers clawing at Mingyu’s face again.
“Open,” Wonwoo orders him and pushes three fingers inside Mingyu’s mouth, deeper and deeper until Mingyu is choking around him again, throat constricting. His make-up is ruined beyond fixing at this point and Wonwoo wants to paint his face white.
Wonwoo gathers as much saliva as he can from Mingyu’s mouth before his fingers drag slowly back to his ass. Wonwoo helps himself by spreading Mingyu’s cheeks with one hand, then slowly pushes his index finger past the tightness of Mingyu’s hole.
“Head down,” Wonwoo instructs, pressing Mingyu’s head against the table as he pushes in his finger up until the last digit. Mingyu is shaking underneath him, thighs quivering and shivering like a leaf rattling in a wind. It’s a sight Wonwoo will never get tired of seeing, Mingyu who is always so bright and suffocating and big being reduced to nothing but blabbering, spit-sticky shivering mess.
“God, you always take it so well,” Wonwoo groans against Mingyu’s shoulder, from where he is leaning his upper body against Mingyu’s back, to be closer and to feel Mingyu’s sweaty skin against his and to constrict his movements even more.
“Give me another one, I like it when it hurts,” Mingyu begs quietly, eyes half closed and lips parted, wine red and bitten raw. It’s like a wave getting pulled to the shore, like a Moon orbits around the Earth: Mingyu says and Wonwoo does.
Wonwoo pushes in another finger, past the tight muscles into Mingyu’s heat. Wonwoo’s cock throbs against Mingyu’s skin, begging to be in the place where his fingers are. Wonwoo scissors his fingers like Mingyu likes it the best, pushes them deeper and further into the warmth until Mingyu starts to shake even more, his ass meeting Wonwoo’s fingers halfway. Wonwoo abuses Mingyu’s prostate to hear his high whines and loud cries, he likes the way Mingyu trashes around and grabs at whatever is near him to steady himself. Mingyu likes it when Wonwoo gets rough with him, when Wonwoo ignores his cries and pleas and does whatever he wants to bring Mingyu closer to the edge.
“No one fucks me like you do, Wonwoo,” Mingyu whispers, fucked out and blissful, and it’s a weird, out of place confession that makes Wonwoo startle to stop.
“What do you mean?”
“No one other fucks me. Point blank,” Mingyu whispers again, almost like he’s ashamed to confess that to Wonwoo.
“Only I do?” Wonwoo asks, in disbelief because all this time, Mingyu made him believe Wonwoo wasn’t the only one he shares his bed with.
“Yeah, only you,” Mingyu answers, solemnly and with way too much honesty. It’s all it takes for Wonwoo to twist Mingyu’s head to his and pull him into a bruising kiss. It’s more teeth and tongue than it is lips but Mingyu’s confession sparked something burning, scorching in Wonwoo’s stomach and he tries his best to transcend it to Mingyu. Wonwoo doesn’t know what that it is but maybe Mingyu does.
“I hate you so fucking much,” Wonwoo whispers against Mingyu’s lips before he kisses him again, stealing the oxygen from Mingyu’s lungs and swallowing any gasps and moans that threaten to slip past his lips.
“Fuck me Wonwoo, please. Fill me up,” Mingyu begs urgently and looks at Wonwoo, who looks at him right back. The time slows down for Wonwoo, never before having seen Mingyu’s face this close, this intimately. Wonwoo thinks he could count Mingyu’s eyelashes and the freckles on his face. Wonwoo can see the smudged glitter and the little scar above his eyebrow from when Mingyu split the skin when he was off the grid again.
Wonwoo kisses him for the last time, deliberately and sweetly because Mingyu shared a secret with him for the first time in his life and that action deserves a little reward.
It’s slightly blurry after Wonwoo kisses him senseless. Wonwoo would be too embarrassed to admit it out loud but he is so aroused, all of his senses are so heightened, that when Mingyu’s skin touches his, it’s like a wave of an electric shock rips through his figure.
Wonwoo’s abdominal muscles tense as he slides the condom on his cock and lines himself up with Mingyu, a shivering hand on Mingyu’s hip. Mingyu takes Wonwoo’s cock in one slide like a champ and Wonwoo slumps against his back, the heat engulfing his cock overwhelming him once again.
When Mingyu starts to whine for Wonwoo to start moving, Wonwoo braces himself by digging his nails into the plushness on Mingyu’s hips and pulls out, slow and torturous, before he rams his cock back again in one swift thrust.
They groan in unison, the sound ricocheting off the walls of the studio.
“God,” Wonwoo moans, eyes stuck on how Mingyu’s hole stretches over his cock, “I’ve fucked you loose so many times but you’re still so tight.”
Mingyu can only moan in response, pushing his ass to meet Wonwoo’s thrusts. Wonwoo has fucked Mingyu too many times to count but it feels a little different this time. Maybe it’s because Mingyu doesn’t seem too bothered to put up a fight and just takes whatever Wonwoo gives him, as he lays on the table like a porcelain doll. Maybe it’s because Wonwoo despises Mingyu a little less right now as he rams his cock into Mingyu in sharp, quick thrusts. The sounds their bodies emit are obscene: skin slapping stickly against skin, squelching sound of Wonwoo’s cock pushing the lube deeper into Mingyu’s hole. The table rattles with the force of Wonwoo’s thrusts and Mingyu’s knee gives out, thighs shivering too much to keep him uphold.
“Wish you could see yourself right now. My pretty little whore, you’re so gorgeous,” Wonwoo chants under his breath, fucking into Mingyu at a brutal pace, “wish I could show everybody just how good you are.”
Wonwoo leans over Mingyu’s back again, dragging his cock even deeper into Mingyu’s hole until the younger can only moan at how stuffed and filled he feels.
Wonwoo puts his lips around Mingyu’s ear, hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin, “Does your daddy know his little boy is such an eager cockslut? Does he know how good you take my cock?”
Mingyu can only gasp in response as Wonwoo’s filthy words go straight to his cock, “He can never kno-oh.”
Mingyu’s words make Wonwoo fuck him even harder, more relentlessly, Wonwoo’s cock sliding against Mingyu’s walls and the tip of his cock probing at Mingyu’s prostate. The thought of Mingyu’s dad not knowing what his son gets up to when the lights go dark and the doors close fuels something in Wonwoo, something that makes his thrusts even more forceful, makes him grab onto Mingyu tighter than ever.
“Wonwoo,” Mingyu whispers and it sounds like his soul is levitating above his body. Wonwoo halts and stops, leans close to hear Mingyu better, “You good?” Wonwoo eyes trace over Mingyu’s black, tear-stained cheeks.
“Wonwoo, please, ” Mingyu begs and for a second, Wonwoo doesn’t know what it is that Mingyu wants so desperately.
“Make me come. Make me see the stars, please .”
And so Wonwoo does, like a wave being pulled to the shore, like a magnet being pulled to the other one. Wonwoo hoists Mingyu up, wraps one of his arms around his middle while the other one supports Mingyu’s thigh in a way he can still wrap his hand around Mingyu’s cock.
“Spit, pretty baby,” Wonwoo’s breath ghosts over Mingyu’s ear, his eyes never leaving Mingyu’s lips and the way he spits slowly on Wonwoo’s fingers. The way Mingyu looks right now, debauched and ruined, like a human embodiment of the seven deadly sins at once, is how Wonwoo wants to remember him till the day he dies.
When Wonwoo wraps his slender fingers around Mingyu’s cock, the younger throws his head back and rests it against Wonwoo’s shoulder. Parting his lips, Mingyu moans high and sweet as he lets himself get carried away on the waves of pleasure Wonwoo brings him.
Wonwoo knows Mingyu loves it when he thumbs at his slit while he jerks him off so he does just that, all while holding him up by his middle and fucking into him, slowly but forcefully.
Wonwoo himself is tipping on the edge but he is determined to make Mingyu come first, simply because the sight of Mingyu coming and coming is usually the end of it for him too. To stop himself from spilling into the condom, Wonwoo puts his lips over Mingyu’s pulse point and bites down, hard. Mingyu yelps, jostles in his arms but Wonwoo is there to cage him in.
“One day,” Wonwoo whispers sweetly into Mingyu’s ears as he fucks him lazily, pulling his cock all the way before pushing in torturously slowly, “I’m gonna tie you up all pretty. And you’re gonna ride my cock and I’m gonna film you for you to see how gorgeous you are all split open on my cock.”
“Would you like that, Mingyu? Would you put up a show for me?”
Mingyu nods his head so eagerly he looks like a bobble head, while whines spill from his half-open lips. He licks over them, the last traces of the red lip gloss. Mingyu can’t keep his eyes open and for a split second, Wonwoo wishes he could see Mingyu’s eyes as he tips over the edge.
“Anything for you, Wonwoo, anything, anything,” Mingyu whispers quietly over and over again, like a prayer, as Wonwoo fucks him for another ten seconds before Mingyu tenses, so incredibly hard, in his arms and pushes his cock through the tight ring of Wonwoo’s fingers for the last time before he’s coming, coming in long spurts of white all over Wonwoo’s fingers and his chest, the room echoing with Mingyu’s whines and moans and the way he sweetly gasps out Wonwoo’s name. The come glistens prettily against Mingyu’s caramel skin and Wonwoo dips his fingers into it, drags the come over Mingyu’s skin, over his nipple, all the way up to his lips where he pushes in, giving Mingyu a little taste.
“You’re so good, so good for me, so good to me, baby,” Wonwoo chants over and over again as he picks up a brutal pace again, fucking Mingyu into overstimulation and himself into a mindblowing orgasm. Mingyu slumps against the table, too fucked out to keep himself stable, and all he can do is whimper like an injured puppy.
Wonwoo’s fingers tangle around the diamond chain around Mingyu’s waist and he pulls, keeps Mingyu in place as he slams his hips against his, rails him so hard and so quickly if Mingyu was any smaller, Wonwoo would for sure break him. The possibility of the chain ripping in half and Wonwoo having to pay the full price for it goes out of the window as Wonwoo gets closer and closer to the edge.
And when he’s almost there, when he feels the abdominal muscles tingle and his balls start to tighten up, Mingyu reaches behind him and grabs Wonwoo’s wrist.
“Wonwoo,” Mingyu purrs, words slurred and lisp ridden, “you’re clean, right?”
Wonwoo blinks the sweat out of his eyes, cock stuck halfway in Mingyu’s hole, “Yeah.”
“Good, good, me too, come in me then. Please, fill me up, stuff me full with your come,” Mingyu begs quietly and it’s then Wonwoo realizes Mingyu’s cock is hard again, overly sensitive and deep red in colour.
“God, you’re fucking filthy,” Wonwoo grunts but pulls his cock out nonetheless, sliding the condom off. Wonwoo spits on his fingers again before he pushes into Mingyu’s gaping hole again and the absence of the thin layer of latex is overwhelming. It clouds Wonwoo’s vision milky as his mind bursts into pastel, hazy shades.
“You love it,” Mingyu retorts, each word punctuated with Wonwoo’s violent thrusts as he fucks himself into a head spiralling orgasm.
When Wonwoo comes, it’s so intense he accidentally slams Mingyu against the table with how heavily he slumps against the boy. His cock is pulsating in Mingyu’s hole as it pains his insides white and sticky and Mingyu fucking loves it because it’s just a few seconds later and Mingyu is coming again, adding more to the mess on his hands and his chest.
It’s quiet after that, both Wonwoo and Mingyu too out of it to say anything, too out of it to even come out with a coherent thought. When Wonwoo’s cock softens inside Mingyu, he slowly pulls it out hissing at how sensitive it feels when Mingyu’s walls drag over it.
Wonwoo watches a trickle of come ooze out of Mingyu’s hole and he can’t help himself, he dips two fingers into it and fucks it back inside Mingyu, back into the tight heat that is so, so wet. Mingyu gasps as Wonwoo fucks him with his fingers for a split second before he pulls his hand away with obscenely squelching sound.
“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks when he’s already managed to pull his underwear on, trying to button up his jeans with trembling fingers.
“Yeah, I think I pulled a muscle though,” Mingyu grumbles and peels himself off from the table. When he tries to stand on both of his feet, his right leg wobbles and he nearly collapses to the ground, “My thigh hurts.”
“Right,” Wonwoo says as he takes in the state which Mingyu is in. Mingyu’s hair is sticking all over the place and his face is a mess of red and black. He’s basically naked, saved for the blazer and his high heels and Wonwoo realizes he looks strangely vulnerable.
Mingyu takes off the heels carefully, kicks them to the side and wiggles his toes with a satisfied groan.
“I got you,” Wonwoo tells him, too tenderly and too quietly, one of his arms coming around Mingyu’s middle and the one moving below his thighs. Wonwoo scoops Mingyu up in his arms with not so much difficulty and even though Mingyu protests loudly, he still wraps his arm around Wonwoo’s neck and rests the side of his face against his chest.
“Your heart is beating really fast,” Mingyu says matter-of-factly because no shit Sherlock, Wonwoo just nearly fucked his own brain out and he feels like his heart is about to beat its way out of his ribcage.
“It’s because I hate you a whole lot,” Wonwoo responds but isn’t sure there is even an ounce of truth to his words. Mingyu falls silent after that and Wonwoo wonders if what he said was wrong, if it made Mingyu believe Wonwoo really hates him.
Wonwoo carries Mingyu to the dressing room next to the studio and lays him on one of the settees.
Mingyu immediately pulls one of the cushions to his lap as his head falls back, eyes closing. Wonwoo thinks about how peaceful he looks, like a dove feather slowly floating through the air, like a freshly bloomed flower on the first day of Spring, like the Sun coming out after a particularly long and dark winter.
Truth be told, Wonwoo has never gone this far after he and Mingyu just fucked. Wonwoo always gives himself a little while to calm down, to get his breathing in check before he’s getting the fuck out of wherever him and Mingyu just fucked. He never carried him anywhere, never helped him, never even asked him if Mingyu was good after they’re done. Wonwoo doesn’t know what shifted in the universe that he suddenly feels an overwhelming urge to stay by Mingyu’s side until he’s good to be on his own.
Wonwoo registers Mingyu’s travel bag and goes to see if he brought some spare clothes. He pulls out a pair of shorts and a hoodie, along with Mingyu’s skin care and goes back to Mingyu who is slumped against the cushions like a sack of potatoes.
“I’m gonna take off your make-up, is that okay?” Wonwoo asks, slaps himself for being so considerate all of a sudden.
It seems like Mingyu notices it as well because he cracks one eye open and eyes Wonwoo up and down, judging.
“You don’t have to do that because you feel bad or because you want to prove yourself you’re better than me.”
Wonwoo sighs at Mingyu’s tantrics and sits down next to him, “I’m doing it because I want to and because, no offense, you look like you barely know your name.”
Mingyu rolls his eyes and huffs, like Wonwoo is bothering him and stealing him of his precious time, but he lets Wonwoo swipe the make-up wipes over his cheeks and his lips. He closes his eyes when Wonwoo dips a cotton pad in an eye make-up remover and wipes it over his eyelids gently. Under him, Mingyu’s natural skin slowly reveals itself and Wonwoo’s mind slowly falls down a rabbithole of how pretty Mingyu is just the way he is.
“Uh,” Wonwoo blurts out suddenly, as a thought occurred in his mind for a split second, making him incredibly flustered and embarrassed.
“What?” Mingyu looks at him, confused.
“Can I do something? Nothing bad, I promise,” Wonwoo asks, cheeks tinting pink only from the thought of doing what he really wants to do.
“Sure,” Mingyu answers, although his voice sounds unsure. He closes his eyes again, coming off from post sex high and from being high on coke the whole day hitting him hard. Wonwoo wastes no more seconds before he slowly leans in and presses his lips against the little freckle on the tip of Mingyu’s nose in a tiny kiss. He pulls away abruptly, kind of hoping the touch was so gentle Mingyu didn’t manage to notice it.
Wonwoo was wrong.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. It’s cute. That freckle,” Wonwoo stammers over his words like a high schooler with a stupid crush. His cheeks flare up and his eyes feel burning hot. Wonwoo’s heart is beating inside of his chest, excited. It beats in a way it never did before with Mingyu.
Wonwoo packs up his stuff slowly and Mingyu gets dressed in silence. It takes Mingyu a little longer than usual, Wonwoo can see how heavy his bones must feel inside his body. He helps him pull on a hoodie and fixes his hair for him.
“Hey, Wonwoo,” Mingyu suddenly calls out when Wonwoo is about to walk through the door, Mingyu waiting behind for Minghao to come pick him up.
Wonwoo turns around, curiously, “Yeah?”
For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, Mingyu looks shy, bashful with his cheeks tinted pink, not from drugs, sex or alcohol, but because he is feeling embarassed, nervous to ask Wonwoo whatever he wants to know. It’s a sight so foreign to Wonwoo he wonders for a while if Mingyu is the same person he was just minutes ago. Mingyu looks softly boyish, in his hoodie and shorts and his choppy bangs falling into his eyes. It’s a different side of Mingyu, a sight Wonwoo guesses Mingyu doesn’t show to other people too often.
“Would you… Uh, would you like to have a coffee some day? With me? If you want?” Mingyu asks, obviously awkward and shy, words lisp ridden and soft. Wonwoo is taken back by a surprise because… This isn’t the Mingyu he’s known for years on end. This is so far away from the Mingyu he’s kissed, he’s fucked, he brought home when he was black out drunk and throwing a fit in the club. This is a side of Mingyu Wonwoo could actually like.
“Yeah, I’d like to,” Wonwoo answers.
Mingyu smiles at him, the sweetest and most genuine smile Wonwoo’s seen him ever give to someone.
Wonwoo doesn’t know what it means.
He hopes to find out soon.
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