Archive of Our Own

la bête: forgive me.

belle: what should i forgive you for?

la bête: for being a beast. forgive me.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It had to end.

It had all gone too far; Hongjoong had gone too far. He had to end it.

He wasn’t able to control himself anymore, and it was becoming a problem – it had been a problem for a while and he’d just ignored it. He’d lied to himself that he could handle it, that he wouldn’t let it bleed through.

He always told himself he was just going to give Mingi what he needed, and that he could ignore the monster inside him that wanted more. He could keep it on a leash as he always did.

Until he couldn’t.

Seeing the fucking bitemark on Mingi’s shoulder the next day at dance practice had sealed the deal for Hongjoong. He couldn’t trust himself anymore. It looked angry and red and unmistakable, and that grotesque need inside Hongjoong purred in satisfaction when he saw it. It made him want to throw up. He winced every time Mingi’s hoodie fell down his shoulder, exposing it.

Once, Hongjoong even came up to Mingi and pulled the shoulder of his hoodie back up. Mingi looked at him in confusion but didn’t say anything. Hongjoong considered leaving practice early, which told him he’d really fucked up because usually he’d never consider that. He did shamefully run away without talking to anyone after practice was finished, though.

He could feel the stares on his back as he did.

It wasn’t until he couldn’t anymore that Hongjoong realised really how much he was always touching Mingi. He was so used to just casually being able to put his arm around Mingi’s waist or touch his shoulder or the back of his neck.

It didn’t mean anything. It never meant anything.

Hongjoong kept finding himself wanting to reach out, his hand automatically halfway to pinching Mingi’s cheek when he realised and pulled back. Had he always been this way with Mingi? Or had it started after they’d crossed that line in their relationship?

He never should have let it get to that – he could see that now. He should’ve put a stop to it before it ever happened. He shouldn’t have allowed it to happen.

It was just… when Mingi looked like that; when he looked at Hongjoong like Hongjoong could save him. Like Hongjoong was some kind of all-powerful being who could fix everything and make it all better…

Hongjoong wanted so badly to be that for Mingi.

Or when Mingi looked like he wanted to be brought out of his mind and to the brink of ruin. Eyes wide and lips parted, eyebrows slightly scrunched together, his whole body focused on Hongjoong.

Mingi was too tempting. Hongjoong should’ve known that from the start.

Because Hongjoong couldn’t trust himself. He knew that. He’d known that all his life. He just hadn’t realised to what extent his vileness reached.

Until now.

He’d managed to stay in denial for so long. He’d convinced even himself that it was fine. That what they were doing was no big deal. It meant nothing.

Even though the first time he’d fucked Mingi had made Hongjoong want to sink his claws into him and claim him inside and out and never let him go.

There was something about Mingi that awakened some kind of monster inside Hongjoong. A hungry monster that just wanted to take, to consume, to grab hold and never let go. It wanted to see Mingi’s body moulded by him, shaped and sculpted into something beautiful. It wanted to leave its mark on Mingi in a way that would never come off.

Hongjoong had always known that he was a bit… Intense. He got jealous easily and always had. Maybe something to do with being the youngest child, or maybe he’d just been born wrong. Maybe there was some kind of rot inside of him that he’d never be able to get out.

He wasn’t a good person. He tried his best, he really did, but he had to work for it. It wasn’t who he truly was on the inside. That was why it was for the best that he and Mingi ended their arrangement before he did something that would damage their relationship irrevocably.

But Mingi needed him.

That was the problem. That had always been the problem.

Hongjoong had told himself after the first time that he’d never do it again. He couldn’t trust himself with someone like Mingi, who gave himself up so readily to Hongjoong. Mingi surrendered so beautifully to Hongjoong, and it was dangerous. He couldn’t trust himself with that kind of gift. And Mingi didn’t know what he was doing, he didn’t know the danger he was putting himself in.

He trusted Hongjoong.

And Hongjoong had never been worthy of that trust. He’d tried, he really had, but he’d shown repeatedly now that he couldn’t hold himself back when he was with Mingi like that.

Mingi deserved better than a monster like Hongjoong.

Hongjoong tried his best to act ‘normal’ in the days following his big slip up. His smile was forced and every time he looked at Mingi he felt his brain checking out so he wouldn’t have to see him.

And this was another reason why what they’d been doing was so dangerous. Everyone noticed. Of course they did.

At least before, he and Mingi had been pretty good at keeping everything separate. It had been almost like a switch getting flipped, when Mingi came to him because he needed Hongjoong to help him get out of his head. The rest of the time they’d been able to act just like they always did. They’d goofed off and made jokes and teased each other and had deep discussions and nothing had really changed.

Now…

Now, Hongjoong could hardly look Mingi in the eye, too scared of what he would see there. Betrayal, accusation, hurt… Or something even worse.

Mingi withdrew. Hongjoong noticed it with a painful pang, a guilty twist in his stomach.

But he couldn’t blame him.

They were forced to interact during interviews and other scripted content, and they were both good at following a script. It just made Hongjoong realise how much everything between them felt like a script now. An act.

Had he been too late? Had he let it go on too long?

What if they could never go back?

As he turned the corner down the hallway towards the break room, Hongjoong heard a familiar voice that made his stomach drop. His step only faltered the slightest bit as he looked up and saw Mingi standing at the end of the hallway, talking on the phone. He was turned away from Hongjoong, laughing animatedly, his voice excited as he spoke.

“Alright, Hyung, I’ll be down in a second," Mingi said, before putting the phone down and turning around.

Hongjoong did freeze then, feeling acid in his throat as he watched Mingi’s smile drop as his eyes met Hongjoong’s. Mingi looked like he was going to say something, before he pulled the corners of his mouth into an awkward smile, looking away from Hongjoong and then rushing past him down the hallway.

Hongjoong stood there for a long moment before he could force his feet to unstick from the floor with stiff muscles. He felt cold all over, and coffee wasn’t a simple want anymore, it was a need.

‘Alright, Hyung, I’ll be down in a second.’

Mingi had always been very outgoing. He was far more socially proficient than Hongjoong. Even if he messed up sometimes or said something out of turn, it was almost always in such a way that people around him couldn’t help being endeared by him. Mingi thrived in social situations, where Hongjoong always felt like he was floundering. Mingi had this easy earnestness to him that was a magnet for everyone around him.

Hongjoong squeezed his mug as he watched the machine pour the swirling dark liquid into it.

‘Alright, Hyung…’

It felt like he was being choked from the inside by a twisting, burning serpent. He had no right to feel this way over Mingi.

He had no right.

Hongjoong spent the rest of the evening hunched over the computer in his studio, eyes straining in the dark against the cold glare of the screen.

✦⋅―――――――⋅⋆⋅―――――――⋅✦

It only got worse from there. Hongjoong tried not to notice, but Mingi was spending a lot of time with random people. People Hongjoong didn’t know. Going places Hongjoong didn’t know.

Mingi took it so seriously, too. It wasn’t just spontaneous social activity; it was like he was purposefully seeking people out.

Other men. Older and with industry experience, money and connections. With their own studios. Men who made Mingi laugh and his eyes sparkle. Men who took him for dinners and events that Hongjoong only managed to piece together afterwards as he obsessively stalked through their instagram posts and stories before throwing his phone away in disgust at himself.

Was Mingi now getting from them what Hongjoong couldn’t give him anymore?

Was he getting on his knees in the backrooms of clubs or in other mens’ studios? Did they get to see Mingi looking up at them, eyes glassy and lips parted, giving himself completely over?

Hongjoong felt like he was white-knuckling his way through every single day, trying not to take his mood out on the people around him.

He failed, often.

Seonghwa even made a testy comment about Hongjoong’s temper regressing back to what it had been like in their early days. Hongjoong supposed he was right. He’d been a lot more intense back then and had mellowed out over the years. He hadn’t really thought about it before but he’d felt a lot more loose an relaxed, especially in the last year. Not quite as on edge over every little detail.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ―― ✦ ―― ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“Where have you been?”

He didn’t mean for it to come out like that. He didn’t mean for it to come out at all.

He’d come to the dorm to find Mingi, to try and apologise maybe. Find some way for them to move past what had happened so they could get back to normal.

Mingi hadn’t been there when he came. Hongjoong sat at the kitchen counter and waited.

As the hours passed, as he kept refreshing instagram, the monster inside him grew more and more restless. Sick satisfaction and then a sour burn flooded his body when he finally found a two second boomerang story where he could see a familiar hand in the background, holding on to a bottle. It was from some guy with a vague ‘musician’ bio, that Hongjoong had found while diving through the rabbit hole of Mingi’s friends and friends of friends. Mingi wasn’t even tagged in the post, but there was no question in Hongjoong’s mind when he saw the bracelets on his wrist and the grey cardigan sleeve.

Hongjoong had no right. He had no right.

To his frustration, he didn’t find any more photos. He couldn’t even tell where the picture had been taken, though it was clearly a private room at some kind of bar. That didn’t stop him from staying on his phone until Mingi returned.

“I was—Nowhere, I was just out…” Mingi looked surprised, taken aback, and worst of all, guilty.

Why did he look guilty?

Hongjoong stood up. Mingi’s eyes kept meeting his and then darting away. Hongjoong noticed the way he was squeezing the strap of his bag with one hand. He smelled faintly of alcohol, but he didn’t seem overly intoxicated. Hongjoong stepped up to Mingi. “With whom?”

Mingi took a reflexive step back as Hongjoong approached, and Hongjoong felt like a shark smelling blood in the water, following behind. “I—Just some friends.” Mingi’s eyes were wide, his lips pulling into his natural pout. His back hit the wall behind him.

Why wasn’t he angry? Hongjoong had no right to demand any of this of him. Why didn’t he push back? Hongjoong’s breaths were shallow and he was starting to feel light headed. He hadn’t been this close to Mingi in weeks. He watched the way Mingi’s dark eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he blinked, shrinking against the wall.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Mingi said.

Hongjoong felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He stumbled away from Mingi.

Why was Mingi apologising? He had nothing to apologise for – it was Hongjoong who was supposed to be on his knees, begging for Mingi’s forgiveness for everything he’d done to him. For everything he was still doing to him. Hongjoong had dug his claws into Mingi and now they were stuck there and he couldn’t let go. They just kept digging deeper and deeper into Mingi and hurting him more and more.

“You’re sorry?” Hongjoong said, his voice a choked whisper.

Their eyes met for a long moment. Hongjoong couldn’t speak, the warring emotions inside of him stealing his words away. Mingi had made himself so small that Hongjoong barely had to look up at him. Hongjoong’s hands hurt from how hard they were squeezed into fists.

For a moment, Mingi looked like he was going to speak. His lips moved and Hongjoong could hear the soft sound of his breath over his own rapidly beating heart. No sounds came out.

He wanted to be able to ask these questions of Mingi. He wanted it to be his right to know, to—to control. He wanted Mingi to give that to him, knowingly and willingly.

Hongjoong broke the eye contact, disgusted with himself.

“I’m sorry,” Mingi repeated finally, in a rough whisper. Then he pushed past Hongjoong, and a few moments later Hongjoong heard the door to Mingi’s room open and then close.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :ﾟ･✧:ﾟ･✧

“This has to stop.”

Hongjoong looked up from his pot noodles. Yunho had entered the kitchen without him noticing and was leaning on the chair opposite Hongjoong’s at the table.

“I don’t know what happened, but you two need to make up already.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hongjoong said, shoving more noodles into his mouth. His words sounded like a lie even to his own ears.

“You don’t? Both of you have been acting off for weeks now. Neither of you used to be this short-tempered; Mingi can’t focus during any kind of rehearsal anymore and Hongjoong…” He trailed off, seeming like he was gathering his courage before going on. His expression hardened in determination, just a bit. “You’re… You’re mean, sometimes.” His eyes softened as he looked at Hongjoong again, who was still avoiding his gaze. “Do you want me to talk to him? I don’t know what happened, but if he apologised then things can go back to normal, right?” Yunho pulled the chair out and sat down.

The food had long since turned to ash in Hongjoong’s mouth, but he forced himself to chew and swallow, before meeting Yunho’s eyes. He was looking at Hongjoong with something close to desperation, his hands grasped on front of him. “He has nothing to apologise for,” Hongjoong said quietly, looking away from Yunho.

“Then what—?”

“I fucked up.” Hongjoong sighed, pushing his bowl away. It wasn’t by much, but Yunho was his oldest friend, and they’d always had an understanding that he didn’t have with any of the others. They had realised as soon as they met that despite their apparent differences, they had similar goals, even if they went about them differently. He’d always been able to talk to Yunho about his worries and known that Yunho would understand. There was nobody else in the group who needed this in quite the same way that he and Yunho did.

He’d never told him about his mistakes with Mingi, though.

“I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if it can be fixed. He probably hates me.” Hongjoong steeled his expression before meeting Yunho’s worried gaze again. “He should hate me.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” Yunho asked. He didn’t ask for any clarifications on what had happened, and Hongjoong felt so unbearably fond of him in that moment.

“No, I haven’t.” He thought of the confrontation a few days ago in the dorms. He was a coward. “I was hoping that maybe, with time…” He trailed off.

“Let me try,” Yunho suggested. “I’ll talk to him and—”

“No,” Hongjoong interrupted him. “It’s my responsibility. You’re right.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s gone on too long, I’ve been… Negligent.”

“You can talk to me, you know,” Yunho said. His expression was agonisingly earnest. Hongjoong hated the worry he saw there. His fuckup was now affecting more than just Mingi. It was affecting the whole group, which in turn would affect everyone who depended on them.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong said, trying to smile. Trying to appear like he would consider the possibility.

It only made him feel worse when Yunho’s expression shifted to relief. Like he believed Hongjoong could actually fix what he’d broken.

— ✵ — ✵ — ✵ —

“I think it would best if I left the group.”

It was the last thing Hongjoong was expecting to hear, but it really shouldn’t have been. His body felt like he’d just been submerged in cold water, and the recently ever-present anxious nausea threatened to overtake him and actually make him return the contents of his stomach.

(Mostly coffee, these days.)

This couldn’t be happening. He’d asked Mingi to talk to him to try and find a way to fix things.

Not… this… Never this.

It was late, and Hongjoong had been in his studio all night, trying to write something that wasn’t just white noise. He didn’t even know Mingi was still there at the company. Hongjoong was frozen and he couldn’t look at Mingi. He was too scared of what he would find there. His voice sounded… resolute. Like the decision had been made long ago and he’d made his peace with it.

“You’ll be fine without me,” Mingi went on. “You did it once before, you can do it again. It’ll take some time to adjust, but in the end it’s what’s best for everyone.”

It sounded rehearsed. Like he was reading a script. The determination in his voice made Hongjoong’s heart squeeze painfully. Not detached from feeling, but decisive, nonetheless.

“You…”

“I’ll take a break from everything for a few months, maybe a year, then I’ll start doing some solo stuff. I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Hongjoong said, finally managing to force himself to look at Mingi.

He almost wished he hadn’t.

Mingi looked sad, but resolved. Like there was nothing Hongjoong could do to change his mind. Like he’d thought over every possibility and come to the single, correct conclusion. His beautiful face showed every conflicting emotion in the set of his eyes and the tension in his lips, the slight furrow of his brow, but when his gaze met Hongjoong’s, he smiled softly. Kindly.

Big, self-sacrificial idiot.

He was trying to step away when it was Hongjoong, Hongjoong, who was to blame for it all. It was he who should withdraw into obscurity and wither away in his shame. Mingi was a star, bright and brilliant, beautiful like a summer sunset, magnetic in his presence and electric in everything he did, and Hongjoong could never take that away from the world. If his actions were what caused Mingi to leave the spotlight he could never forgive himself.

He already could never forgive himself for what he’d done.

How he’d reduced his friend, his colleague, his brother, to someone who would do this. Someone insecure and hesitant, instead of the easy, confident man that Hongjoong had watched him grow into over the years. Hongjoong had watched him blossom from a shy but determined boy into a sure and handsome young man, explosive in his talent.

And Hongjoong had ruined it.

Because Hongjoong hadn’t been able to hold himself back. Taken in by Mingi’s gravity just like everyone else, orbiting around him like a moon, desperate to come closer, to touch, but the only way for him to do so was a destructive collision.

A crash from orbit.

Hongjoong’s eyes prickled with unshed tears.

Everything was slipping away from him, he could see it before his eyes, like trying to hold on to water in his cupped hands. Everything was lost. There was nothing he could do about it, there was nothing he could do to fix it no matter how hard he clutched and clawed. The harder he gripped, the further Mingi slipped away from him. They’d never survive without Mingi. None of them would.

Hongjoong wouldn’t.

And he didn’t want to.

The last few weeks had been torture. Mingi had been moody and withdrawn, not just from Hongjoong, but from practically everyone. Wooyoung had come to him one evening, concerned because he’d seen Mingi arguing with San about something insignificant.

And Hongjoong… Hongjoong was barely holding on. He felt like he might snap at any little thing. He couldn’t sleep unless he was so exhausted he couldn’t keep his eyes open, so he tried to keep himself busy with work. Everyone around him seemed to be walking on eggshells, scared he might blow up.

It made him feel ashamed, but he couldn’t fix it.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. He’d even considered calling some of his old hookups, just for some kind of release.

For some reason, the thought had repulsed him.

“You can’t.” Hongjoong’s voice sounded hollow, the empty despair he felt echoing in his words.

“It’s—You can adjust the choreography, someone can take my lines, you’ll be fine.”

“I won’t,” Hongjoong said.

“Hongjoong…” His expression was heartbreakingly kind, and Hongjoong couldn’t look at him anymore.

“You can’t do this,” Hongjoong said, blinking faster as the first tear slipped from his eye, and then another.

“It’s for the best.”

“You can’t,” Hongjoong repeated, feeling desperate as more tears fell from his eyes. “What about the others? What about—about everyone?”

“It’s not ideal, but what other option is there?” Mingi asked, finally some emotion tinting his voice. Hongjoong glanced up at him and saw Mingi’s eyes shining too. “I can’t do this anymore,” he added in a whisper.

“You can’t,” Hongjoong said, like a broken record. There was nothing he could say to convince Mingi, but he couldn’t stop trying either. The idea of losing Mingi was a spectre that had haunted at the edges of his consciousness ever since the last time they’d been together, a possibility too frightening and horrific to even consider or process.

Had he been so stupid to assume that everything would just magically go back to normal? That the problem would just go away if he ignored it, kept himself busy enough and didn’t allow his mind to even touch on it? If he distracted himself with paltry pursuits of something he could convince himself was important?

“Why not?”

How could Hongjoong have let this happen? How was he letting the most beautiful thing he’d ever held in his hands slip away from him, just because he’d tried holding onto it too hard with clumsy, grasping fingers? Mingi was the sun, and Hongjoong should’ve done everything he could to make up for what he’d done, to keep the sun shining so he could bask in its warmth, even if from far away. Even if he could never hope to possess it, just being in its vicinity should’ve been enough for him.

Why wasn’t it?

Why was Hongjoong so full of greed, so needy and possessive? Why did he want to possess Mingi in his entirety, to be the only one to enjoy his radiating warmth? Why couldn’t he be satisfied with what he had? Why was he never able to satiate the thing inside him that just required more and more and more? The thing that had fixated on Mingi, demanding to sink its claws into him and keep him forever.

“Because I love you,” Hongjoong said, the words a surprise even to himself. “Because I’m in love with you and I can’t stop it.”

Mingi looked horrified. Hongjoong couldn’t blame him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry.”

Mingi took a step back.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong repeated. “Please, I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what he was apologising for; for everything he’d done or for what he’d said. Or for being in love with him. Mingi’s face was still contorted, overwrought as he blinked at Hongjoong, tears finally falling.

Then he turned on his heel and ran.

Hongjoong was left staring after him.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡☁︎ﾟ｡⋆

“Where is he?”

“Wh—?”

Hongjoong pushed past the man at the door and made his way out of the cold air and into the apartment, looking around. He couldn’t see Mingi’s shoes on the shoe rack but that didn’t have to mean anything.

“He’s not here,” the man said, folding his arms across his chest and looking down at Hongjoong with narrow eyes. He was probably taller than Mingi, and he had an effortless way about him, like he was just born cool. Hongjoong bit his tongue and instead poked his head around the corner to look into the living room.

There was nobody there.

Maybe Hongjoong had been too hasty.

After Mingi had left, Hongjoong had been rooted to the spot for a long time. His confession had been almost as much of a surprise to him as it was to Mingi. He still didn’t understand how he hadn’t realised it sooner.

He was in love with Mingi.

Maybe he always had been, and that was why he hadn’t thought anything of it. Maybe it had been his normal for years at this point. A background awareness that never bubbled to the forefront of his consciousness until he was so desperate and out of his wits that it burst forth from his chest without him realising what was happening until it was too late.

Of course the grotesqueness of it had scared Mingi off.

Hongjoong just had to find him and explain that it was fine and that Hongjoong would promise to work on it and not make anything weird and that he would make everything up to him and everything would be fine. He just had to find Mingi.

Everything would be fine.

Except it had been three days and Hongjoong hadn’t heard from him at all, or found him anywhere. At first he’d waited around the dorms, surreptitiously asking anyone he ran into whether they’d seen him to no avail. Then he’d gone around the company, he’d checked Mingi’s studio, he’d even checked social media for sightings.

And then he’d started stalking Mingi’s new friends again.

Which had brought him here. Because he was sure the jean clad knee he’d seen in this guy’s story had been Mingi. He was sure of it. He’d seen Mingi in his posts plenty before.

“He really isn’t here,” the guy said again, coming up behind Hongjoong. “What’s going on, is he in idol trouble or something? How did you even find my apartment?”

After glancing around the apartment, Hongjoong was inclined to believe him, much to his embarrassment now.

“No, he’s fine.”

The guy just looked at Hongjoong.

“Do—do you know where he is?”

The guy raised his eyebrow. He considered Hongjoong for a moment and then seemed to decide to take pity on him. Or maybe he just wanted Hongjoong out of his apartment.

“I think he said something about going home, that’s all I know.”

Home.

“Good luck, I guess,” the guy said as Hongjoong opened the door to leave. Hongjoong barely spared him a glance, too busy looking up the address to Mingi’s parents’ house in old text messages. He hoped the car had enough charge to get all the way there, but he didn’t even look at the gauge as he revved up the engine and pulled out onto the street again.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Hongjoong didn’t actually know where Mingi’s parents’ house was. He’d been there once before, years ago, but he didn’t have the address saved anywhere. He was sure that Wooyoung had texted it to him once before for a new year thing, but he couldn’t find it. So he just drove. He knew the general area it was in. It couldn’t be that hard to find, could it?

After driving around the general area for an hour, Hongjoong gave up, finding a public park where he could leave the car and go out for some fresh air. He was getting too anxious, fingers tapping on the steering wheel and hitting the pedals too hard. He knew he was in the right area, he could recognise the little coffee shop they’d walked to from Mingi’s parents’ house.

He just.

Couldn’t remember where the house was exactly.

So, he decided to take a break. Some fresh air, maybe a bit of food if he could find any. If he got really desperate, he could start asking passers by for directions. He wandered around the park, bought some mochi from an elderly man with a cart, and sat down at a bench to eat it and gather his thoughts.

The park was bustling with life around him. Maybe it was some kind of school holiday; there were so many young children and their parents around, playing in the playground or walking the paths and looking at the flowers that were just about to start to bloom. It was still a little chilly this early in spring, but nature was definitely starting to come alive again after a long, cold winter. A few more good, warm days and the fields of flowers would look beautiful.

The breeze was cold, though.

Hongjoong shivered, tossing his wrapper into a bin and deciding to walk around a little bit to try and warm up again. He went further into the park, past a bakery cart and a vendor selling ice cream, until he got to a little pond, sheltered from the wind by bushes and trees that had been planted around it. It looked a little sad from the winter, but a sign by the path promised that it was full of life in the spring and summer. There was a wooden bridge that went over the pond, and on the other side was a small pavilion, painted a faded mint green colour. Hongjoong wandered across the bridge, looking down into the muddy water as he went, before entering the pavilion and sitting down.

There was another path that ran around the pond, and Hongjoong sat for a while watching the people who passed by, his mind strangely empty. It was like the panic and worry had grown to such a cacophony of white noise and static that it became simply… nothing.

“Hey.”

Hongjoong jumped. Then his eyes stung and his throat started burning at the sound of the voice that was so familiar that it felt like it was a reverberation wrenched from his own heart.

Mingi didn’t look anything like what Hongjoong had worried he would. A little tired, maybe, but not like he hadn’t slept in three days. Not like he was angry or going to punch Hongjoong or even yell at him.

He looked normal.

Beautiful as ever, his face expressionless in a comfortingly familiar way.

Hongjoong scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around Mingi’s middle, burying his face in Mingi’s designer jumper. He didn’t mean to cry. It just happened.

He didn’t think he’d ever been as glad to see someone as he was to see Mingi in this moment. His fingers clutched at Mingi’s clothes, desperate for any purchase, any way to hold on. Mingi was soft and warm and Hongjoong almost started sobbing when he felt Mingi’s arms lifting up and enveloping him back.

They stood there for a long moment, held in each other’s arms. Hongjoong wasn’t sure he’d ever hugged Mingi this long before. He probably hadn’t ever hugged anyone this long before.

Yet he couldn’t let go.

Because for a moment, Mingi was hugging him back. For a moment everything was alright, but as soon as he pulled back, he knew that reality would crash down on them again. He would go back to being the monster who kept tearing Mingi apart with hungry teeth and sharp claws he didn’t know how to sheath. And Mingi would go back to hating him. Back to wanting out.

So, Hongjoong only clutched him harder as he sobbed. As if, if he just pulled Mingi close enough, he could prevent him from leaving by absorbing him into his own body. Like he could hold Mingi so close that the boundaries between the very atoms of their beings would start blurring and merging, their hearts and souls becoming one.

“Hongjoong…”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong said. "Please, I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave. Don’t leave the group.” Hongjoong swallowed hard, trying to get his emotions under control. His voice became small. “Don’t leave me.”

There was silence for so long that Hongjoong’s heart stopped beating, as if he was worried he wouldn’t be able to hear what Mingi said over the sound of it.

“I won’t leave,” Mingi finally said. Hongjoong felt the rumble of his voice where his face rested against Mingi’s chest. He felt it in his own chest too. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Hongjoong asked, letting out a disbelieving huff that was almost a laugh. He pulled back a little from Mingi so he could look up at him. “Everything is my fault. I’m—I’m sorry, I’ll be better, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Worry?”

“Really, you should hate me for what I’ve done to you.” Hongjoong laughed again, ruefully. It was like once he started talking, the words he’d been unable to form for so long just came tumbling out. He looked away from Mingi. “I’ve done nothing but hurt you all this time. I’m sorry for everything I did to you, for all the times I pushed you too far and then left you alone to deal with the consequences. For all the times I was too much of a coward to face you. For the times I…” Hongjoong trailed off. He felt numb as he recounted all his sins, his throat starting to close up again. He took a moment to clear it before continuing. “I’m sorry that I fell in love with you. You deserve better.”

So far Mingi had looked inscrutable as ever. Somehow, he was both the easiest to read person Hongjoong had ever known, and the most confusing at the same time. It was usually so easy to tell if Mingi was happy or upset or angry, but it was also like he had a threshold his mood had to hit before his expression would shift, and until then he was blank. At Hongjoong’s words, his expression finally shifted. “What do you mean?” His voice was softer than Hongjoong expected or deserved.

“I’m a monster.” Hongjoong felt like the words were being violently forced out of him as he uttered them. It was the truth he’d always known and readily admitted to himself, but never to anyone else. The secret he’d been hide all his life.

As if it weren’t obvious to anyone who gave him a second look. As if everyone couldn’t see the monstrosity of him, concealed just beneath the pretty, painted surface. It was a joke to pretend that he could ever hide it.

“I keep hurting you without meaning to,” Hongjoong went on. “I keep hurting you even though it’s the last thing I would ever want to do.” Hongjoong stared at the ground for a few moments, waiting. When Mingi didn’t say anything, he looked up, forcing himself to stop being a coward like he always was.

He met Mingi’s eyes.

His beautiful, kind eyes. Why did he have to look so damn merciful? Like he was trying to understand Hongjoong. Like he loved him.

Hongjoong almost flinched away when Mingi’s hand came to his cheek, wiping at the wetness there with his thumb.

“Hongjoong…” Mingi said. His hand was warm and soft and gentle and Hongjoong didn’t deserve any of it.

But god, he wanted it. He wanted it so badly.

Mingi got a tissue from his pocket and wiped the rest of Hongjoong’s tears away. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go home.” He took Hongjoong’s hand, leading him out of the gazebo. Hongjoong followed Mingi as he took the path leading out of the park and back into the town. It was only a five-minute walk from the park before they were standing outside Mingi’s house.

Inside, Mingi offered Hongjoong guest slippers and took his coat and hung it up neatly, before sitting Hongjoong down at the kitchen table with a hot beverage of some sort. Hongjoong wasn’t sure what it was. He felt like he was having an out of body experience.

“You’re shivering,” Mingi said. “Drink your tea.”

The first sip didn’t really taste like anything, but Mingi still didn’t speak, he just watched Hongjoong, so Hongjoong took another drink, and then another one, until his body and face felt tingly with warmth again. Then he put the cup down.

“Hongjoong,” Mingi said, and Hongjoong’s head snapped up. “You’re not a monster.”

“I—”

“You love me?” Mingi asked.

“Yes,” Hongjoong replied without any hesitation.

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong said again, slightly wavering. But he owed Mingi the truth. Whatever he asked, whatever he wanted to know, whatever he asked of Hongjoong, Hongjoong would give it to him.

“And that makes you unhappy?”

“It—That’s…” Hongjoong had to stop and think about it.

Did it make him unhappy?

Mingi never made him unhappy, that wasn’t a question. Did being in love with Mingi make Hongjoong unhappy? Or was it what Hongjoong did because he was in love with Mingi that made him unhappy?

“No,” he said finally. “It’s not that. It’s what that feeling makes me want to do.” Every word felt like a fight to get out. Like his brain didn’t want him to speak them out loud.

Like it didn’t even want him to admit it to himself.

“I’m scared,” Hongjoong said after a moment. “I love you so much, I want to protect you from anything that could ever hurt you, I want you to be happy and safe and I want to give you everything you could ever need. So why do I also…” He swallowed hard before forcing himself to go on. “I also like to—to push you to your limits, to see how much you can take, how much you’re willing to give to me. I like… I like hurting you.”

Just saying the words out loud made Hongjoong want to throw up.

“I told you, I’m some kind of monster,” he whispered. “I’m sick in the head. How can I feel both ways at once?”

The warmth of Mingi’s hand grasping his where it sat on the table surprised Hongjoong. Mingi’s hand was so large that it covered both of Hongjoong’s.

“If that makes you a monster, then I am one too,” Mingi said, leaning forward to look Hongjoong straight in the face. He sounded so certain.

“What—?”

“Because I like it too,” Mingi said before Hongjoong could interrupt. “I liked everything we did. I like it when you take care of me.” Mingi’s tongue ran over his bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth for a moment. There was a blush high on his delicate cheekbones. “I like it when you make me do things. When you test me to see how good I can be for you. I want to be good for you. I like it when you hurt me... You hurt me because you care about me.”

“But… what I did to you—”

“What we did,” Mingi interrupted.

“—isn’t what normal people do.”

Mingi scoffed. “What does that even mean,” he asked. He shifted in his seat, leaning forward. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” Mingi said.

“I… I love you,” Hongjoong said.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again,” Mingi demanded.

Hongjoong didn’t know what Mingi was looking for. As always, he desperately wanted to give Mingi whatever he needed, but he felt clueless as to what it could be. He kept on trying. “I love you,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Mingi said, grinning.

It was such an unexpected reply that Hongjoong was taken aback. “What?”

“I love you,” Mingi repeated, still smiling. “Aren’t we lucky?”

“But—”

“Stop being stupid,” Mingi interrupted him.

“I’m not, it’s—”

Mingi shut him up with a kiss. A soft, gentle thing. An oasis in the stormy sea of Hongjoong’s guilt and fear and self-hatred. A precious gem that Hongjoong wanted to cherish forever.

“I missed you,” Mingi whispered against Hongjoong’s lips, and then he kissed him again. His arms came around Hongjoong’s neck, one hand resting at the back of Hongjoong’s head, fingers threading through Hongjoong’s hair. Mingi felt so familiar, tasted so familiar, that Hongjoong’s heart ached.

This wasn’t for him. He didn’t deserve this.

Did he?

Could he?

“Come on,” Mingi said, pulling away. Then he tugged Hongjoong to his feet and out of the kitchen. Mingi opened a door in the hallway into Mingi’s old bedroom. It had all the signs of having been abandoned by a much younger Mingi, with old posters and figurines still decorating the walls and shelves, but at the same time familiar clothes were laid over the desk chair, like he’d been staying there for a few days.

There was a full length mirror in the corner of the room, with necklaces and scarves hanging off it and a few stickers on the glass, and Mingi led Hongjoong over to it. He stood behind Hongjoong, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“You have a good heart, Kim Hongjoong,” Mingi said, laying his hand over the centre of Hongjoong’s chest.

Could he?

Could he become the person who deserved Mingi?

Hongjoong wanted to try. He wanted to spend every day for the rest of his life trying to be what Mingi deserved. The way Mingi was looking at him made Hongjoong want to do whatever he could to live up to the image Mingi had of him in his mind.

Mingi loved him?

Mingi loved him.

Somehow, after everything he’d done, despite all his mistakes and his cowardice, Mingi loved him. Hongjoong could see it in his eyes, his face. He could feel it Mingi’s hand on his chest, the warm, solid presence at his back.

Hongjoong placed his hand over Mingi’s, before turning around.

“You—you have to tell me,” Hongjoong said, still holding Mingi’s hand to his chest. “If it’s too much. If I’m asking too much of you. If I… If I go too far.”

“You have to trust that I will tell you,” Mingi replied. “You have to trust me too.” Mingi grinned. “Besides, have you ever known me to keep quiet when I’m unhappy? I love to complain.”

That made a smile tug at the corners of Hongjoong’s lips. It was scary. Scarier than anything Hongjoong had faced in the past. The idea that he could hurt Mingi again, maybe even worse than before… He couldn’t bear to think about it. In some ways it would be easier to just end it, before that could happen.

Except, now that the prospect of having Mingi again – really having him – was within Hongjoong’s grasp… He knew he could never let that go again. The more he allowed himself to consider it, the possibility of giving all of himself to Mingi, heart and soul, and maybe receiving the same back, the more he realised that if he did this, he’d sink his claws so deeply and irrevocably into Mingi that they couldn’t be removed without permanent damage.

The monster inside him hadn’t gone anywhere.

‘If that makes you a monster, then I am one too.’

‘You have to trust that I will tell you.’

Hongjoong’s heart felt constricted in his chest. He stepped closer to Mingi, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll try.”

Mingi’s face broke into a smile, as radiant and warm as the sun on Hongjoong’s skin. He couldn’t help smiling back.

“I will try to deserve your trust and I will try to deserve your heart.”

“You already have it,” Mingi said. “You don’t even know—” He broke off, looking away with a huff of laughter. “You’re the most amazing person I know. You have always treated me so well all these years, always taken care of me and tried to give me what I needed, even when I didn’t know what that was myself. There’s no one that I trust more. There’s nobody who could ever take your place. Now, please…”

“‘Please?’” Hongjoong felt like a bloodhound catching a trail.

A familiar trail.

“Please what?”

Mingi giggled. Hongjoong’s heart felt full to bursting. He reached a hand out to cup Mingi’s cheek, letting his thumb press gently into the mole there. He did the same with the other hand. Then he pulled Mingi’s face down, meeting him halfway in a kiss.

“Please what, baby?” Hongjoong asked again when he broke the kiss, eyes catching on Mingi’s teeth digging into his bottom lip. “What do you want?” He would give it to him, whatever it was.

“You,” Mingi said, as he so often did. “All of you, any of you, whatever you give me.” He bit his lip again and looked at Hongjoong from under his lashes. Hongjoong had to stifle a growl in his throat at the sight. He used both hands on Mingi’s shoulders to turn him and push him back until he had him pinned against the wall.

He knew what he was asking for.

The thought struck Hongjoong, as Mingi’s back hit the wall bouncing off it slightly, and Hongjoong noticed a grin tugging at the corner of Mingi’s lips. Like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

“You little…”

Mingi did his best to look innocent, making himself look smaller, eyes wide as he pouted. Hongjoong traced his full bottom lip with his thumb, before pressing on it. Mingi’s mouth opened obediently, making heat spike in Hongjoong’s stomach. He pressed his finger into Mingi’s mouth, feeling the warmth of it, the seductive, smooth glide as it slid over Mingi’s tongue, and worst of all, the way Mingi’s lips closed around it and sucked.

“Fuck…” Hongjoong breathed out. His eyes stuck to how Mingi’s full lips wrapped around his finger, pushing in further before pulling back out. Then he watched the way Mingi’s throat worked as he swallowed.

“Can I suck your dick?” Mingi asked breathlessly, his eyes pleading as he looked at Hongjoong.

His first instinct was to say yes, of course you can, you beautiful boy.

Another part of him, though…

“Hm, I don’t know,” he said, pretending to think about it.

“Please,” Mingi added quickly. “Please, Hyung.” He sank to his knees, movements fluid like the dancer he was. “I’ll be good, I promise,” he said. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I know you will, sweetheart,” Hongjoong said, cupping Mingi’s cheek and letting his thumb trace his cheekbone. “Well,” Hongjoong said, bringing his other hand to his belt. “Since you asked so nicely.” Mingi perked up. “And since you’re so pretty.”

“Hongjoong…” Mingi protested, but Hongjoong could see he was preening from the compliment. It made Hongjoong feel powerful, that something so easy as a few words could make Mingi flush with pleasure. Hongjoong could make him happy, just like this.

And he looked so cute when he got shy and bashful.

As Hongjoong undid his belt, Mingi licked his lips, wiggling a little closer to Hongjoong. He looked so beautiful on his knees like this, Hongjoong didn’t think he’d ever get over the sight of him. He knew for certain that he would never get over the fact that this was something that Mingi offered to him, willingly. That he enjoyed doing this for Hongjoong. He enjoyed giving up control and power like this, to let Hongjoong take care of him.

Hongjoong took a step backwards as he pulled the belt loose from the buckle. Mingi shuffled forward after him, eyes never leaving Hongjoong’s. Hongjoong smirked, taking another step back as he started pulling the belt free from the loops on his jeans. Still, Mingi followed. Hongjoong backed up all the way to the bed, tossing the belt to the side and pulling his shirt free from where it was tucked into the waistband of his jeans, before undoing the button.

It reminded Hongjoong of the time he’d watched a trainer with his dog in the park one time. The trainer had spent hours practicing stepping this way and that, and the dog had been singularly focused on its owner, following every step blindly. Trusting the owner’s commands.

All for a treat at the end.

“Go ahead, baby,” Hongjoong said, pulling the zipper down. Then he waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. Mingi didn’t need to be told twice, coming in close, big hands pulling at Hongjoong’s jeans. He pushed them down, and then leaned his face in to nestle against Hongjoong’s cock through his underwear. He mouthed at it as it slowly got harder, using his lips and his tongue and making the fabric wet. Hongjoong’s hand went to Mingi’s hair, gripping it lightly as he enjoyed Mingi’s hot panting breaths hitting his cock.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he said. “You’re so good, baby, just like that.” He tugged a little on Mingi’s hair and Mingi moaned in response. His hands came up to Hongjoong’s hips, and he blinked slowly as he looked up at Hongjoong through heavy-lidded eyes. Then he dragged the flat of his tongue from the tip of Hongjoong’s cock and along the length of it. Hongjoong groaned, biting his lip. The fabric of his underwear was quickly becoming soaked through with Mingi’s spit and his own precome.

“You taste so good, Hyung,” Mingi said. “Can I…?” He let his fingers hook under the waistband of Hongjoong’s underwear on either side of his hips, pulling slightly and looking up at Hongjoong prettily.

Hongjoong pulled on Mingi’s hair hard enough to pull his head back. Mingi’s eyelids fluttered and he bit his lip before finally managing to focus back on Hongjoong’s face. “Don’t be naughty, you have to ask nicely. Then, I’ll consider it.”

“Please, Hongjoong-Hyung,” Mingi said, his rough voice taking on a sweet tone as he begged. “Please, I want your cock in my mouth so badly.”

“Not yet,” Hongjoong said, watching as Mingi’s expression fell. “Get me hard, first.” Mingi perked up a little again at that, looking reinvigorated at being given a task to accomplish.

It wasn’t really for any reason that Hongjoong said no. He did it just because he could. Just because he wanted to see what Mingi would do in response. See him rise to the challenge. Hongjoong felt proud, more than anything, as he watched Mingi licking at the head of Hongjoong’s cock through the wet fabric, one of his hands stroking the length of it.

“That’s enough, baby,” Hongjoong said, tugging gently on Mingi’s hair. Mingi looked up at him with his eyes wide, before he realised what Hongjoong was saying. “Go on.”

Mingi pulled Hongjoong’s underwear down to his mid thigh, before leaning in and swallowing Hongjoong’s cock down quicker than Hongjoong would’ve thought possible. His mouth was just as wet and warm and inviting as always, his soft, plump lips creating the perfect seal around Hongjoong’s cock as he sucked. It felt so good that it almost felt wrong to enjoy it.

“Fuck, Mingi-yah, your mouth—” Hongjoong trailed off in a moan as Mingi took him in so deep that Hongjoong could feel Mingi’s throat constricting around the head. “Fuck, feels so good.”

The praise only seemed to egg Mingi on, making him move up and down Hongjoong’s cock with ease, obscene, wet sounds echoing in the room.

“W-wait,” Hongjoong forced himself to say, not wanting it to be over too soon. He pulled on Mingi’s hair again, halting his movements. Mingi let out an adorable whine and pouted as he looked up at Hongjoong. Hongjoong stepped back, watching Mingi’s expression turn even more displeased, before he let his jeans and underwear fall down further until he could push them to the side. Mingi tried to follow him, but Hongjoong held his hand up, making him pause. Hongjoong smirked. “Good boy.” Then he brought his hands to his shirt, starting to unbutton it. Mingi’s eyes followed every movement of his fingers as they worked, and Hongjoong slowed down, making a show of it. He slid the shirt off his shoulders, depositing it to the side, and then started pulling on the hem of his undershirt, lifting it up and over his head.

Hongjoong wasn’t especially confident in his body. He was alright, but he didn’t work for it so he could show it off, like Mingi and some of the others did. He didn’t like it being on display most of the time.

But when Mingi was watching him like that? Hunger in his eyes and the heel of his hand digging into the front of his jeans where he knelt?

Hongjoong felt like a god. Even more so than when he was on stage, with a faceless sea of people screaming his name. Having Mingi’s gaze fixed on him so singularly transcended it easily.

He sat down on the bed, leaning back on his hands and spreading his legs slightly, before nodding at Mingi. Mingi scrambled forward, coming between Hongjoong’s legs and looking up at Hongjoong, his hair falling forward into his eyes. Hongjoong nodded again, and Mingi took him back into his warm mouth, one hand at the base to steady him.

Hongjoong sighed in pleasure as Mingi suckled at the head, his tongue tracing the ridge of it before pressing against the underside as he moved his head up and down. Hongjoong’s fists squeezed around the blanket on the bed and he moaned. He looked up and his eyes met his own in the mirror they’d been standing in front of, angled so that it reflected everything that was happening on the bed. He watched as Mingi’s back flexed while he worked, listening to the obscene sounds his mouth and throat made as he sucked. Mingi drew his attention back when he pulled off Hongjoong’s cock, jacking it with his hand as he moved to gently draw one of Hongjoong’s balls into his mouth, and then the other.

God, he had gotten so good at this. Hongjoong thought back to the first time Mingi had sucked him off, all puffy lips and raw enthusiasm. He’d gone too far then, as he always had. Pushed Mingi too far.

But Mingi was so resilient. He always just took it and came back for more.

Still, Hongjoong should’ve eased him into it, even if it hadn’t been his first time sucking cock, it had been their first time. He just didn’t seem to ever have any control over himself when it came to Mingi, and that was what had always scared him so badly.

It still did.

Mingi took Hongjoong’s length back into his mouth, sinking all the way down until his nose was hitting Hongjoong’s pelvis. He struggled, choking sounds coming from deep in his throat, but he didn’t let up. Hongjoong reached his hand forward to use his thumb to wipe at the tears that were glistening as they gathered at his lashes, threatening to fall. Mingi’s throat squeezed the head of Hongjoong’s cock perfectly, pleasure making his toes curl into the carpet.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Mingi pulled off, before he coughed a little. Hongjoong patted his cheek before sliding his hand into Mingi’s hair.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he said. His eyes caught on the mirror again. He pulled on Mingi’s hair, watching his body tense from the back. Mingi groaned, and Hongjoong guided his head back to Hongjoong’s cock. Hongjoong had never had sex in front of a mirror before, but he could definitely see the appeal. He didn’t really like watching himself as much as he liked being able to see Mingi from a different angle.

Mingi always liked watching himself, though. They often teased him for it, the way he got excited when they did music video reactions or when they were monitoring during filming. Maybe that was why the mirror was positioned like that. Had a younger version of Mingi done that on purpose so he could see himself when he jerked off? Just thinking of that, of Mingi writhing on the bed with his hand around himself, of his face flushed and eyes glued to his own body in the mirror, was enough to bring Hongjoong to the brink. How many times had he done that, discovering himself and what he liked as he touched himself?

Or had he brought other people here, to this bed, and watched in the mirror as they fucked?

Hongjoong suppressed a growl, tugging on Mingi’s hair until his mouth slid off Hongjoong’s cock again. Mingi looked up at him questioningly, but Hongjoong just pulled Mingi up to his feet, and pulled him down onto the bed, turning him onto his back. He grabbed each of Mingi’s hands, holding them above his head as he held himself above Mingi.

“You’re mine,” he said.

Mingi nodded.

“Say it,” Hongjoong said. “I need you to say it.”

“I’m yours,” Mingi said. “I’m yours, only yours. You can do whatever you want with me. I want you to use me.”

“Fuck,” Hongjoong said, before he leaned down to kiss Mingi. He knew he was being too rough, too demanding, too greedy. It wasn’t a good kiss. It wasn’t a nice, teasing kiss to turn Mingi on and set his nerves on fire. It was a kiss to satiate the beast inside Hongjoong that wanted to claim and bite and eat and own. It was a biting, hungry, devouring kiss. Like Hongjoong thought he could chase the taste of everyone else Mingi had ever kissed out of him.

It soothed him already when he pushed his tongue into Mingi’s mouth and he tasted like Hongjoong’s cock. He still had to make sure, had to run his tongue along Mingi’s teeth and twist it around Mingi’s own tongue, had to bite Mingi’s lips until he whimpered. Only then Hongjoong was mildly satisfied.

Satisfied enough to move to Mingi’s throat.

Usually, he tried really hard not to give in to the urge to mark Mingi’s throat. It was too obvious, too difficult to hide. Too inconvenient.

Now, he used his tongue to find the spot on Mingi’s throat where he was the most sensitive, enjoying the way Mingi squirmed beneath him, before biting down on it. Then he moved on to the next spot using his teeth and his tongue, sucking and licking and biting until he felt satisfied. It was like he saw red, he couldn’t stop himself until he’d covered Mingi’s throat in his marks.

Like he wanted everyone to know who he belonged to.

Which he did. He did want everyone to know. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

None of you can touch him anymore.

He bit down on the junction of Mingi’s neck and shoulder, feeling Mingi stiffen and then relax beneath him. It only made him bite down harder, wanting to be sure Mingi could feel it. Wanting to leave something permanent on him.

Hongjoong finally pulled back, feeling breathless. He rested his forehead on the top of Mingi’s chest as he caught his breath again, the red receding from the edges of his vision. The beast inside him had settled for now. Mingi’s arms came up around Hongjoong’s torso. Hongjoong didn’t remember letting go of his wrists, but he must’ve at some point. Mingi’s hands were gentle as they stroked Hongjoong’s back.

“Hyung…”

Hongjoong was about to whisper an apology, when Mingi’s hips arched up off the bed, pressing into Hongjoong’s torso, his hardness unmistakable even through his jeans.

“Please…”

Hongjoong lifted his head up and looked at Mingi. His mouth was open, lips red and swollen, and his eyelashes fluttered heavily as he met Hongjoong’s gaze. He looked almost angelic, ethereal in his beauty. Hongjoong couldn’t resist kissing him again, because he could. Because he wanted to.

This time, it was sweet and gentle.

“Alright baby, get up now,” Hongjoong instructed Mingi after rolling away to the side. Mingi did as he was told without question.

Another thing that came so easily to Mingi but lit a fire in Hongjoong’s belly.

Hongjoong sat up on the bed again, as Mingi got to his feet.

“Now, strip for me.”

Mingi flushed a little but bit his lip as he pulled the zipper down on his hoodie and slipped it off his shoulders. He elongated the line of his body as he stretched, showing a peek of his stomach before his hands moved down to the hem of his t-shirt. He didn’t need to be told to make it a show, swaying his hips a little as he pulled the t-shirt slowly up his body, revealing more and more of his torso. He grinned at Hongjoong after he pulled the t-shirt off, pleased with himself. Hongjoong nodded at him, encouragingly. Mingi’s hands moved to the waistband of his jeans, fingers on the button.

“Wait,” Hongjoong said.

Mingi stopped, looking up at Hongjoong.

“Turn around.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, but he did as he was told.

“Do you see yourself in the mirror?” Hongjoong asked, moving a little on the bed so he could see Mingi both from the back and meet his eyes in the mirror.

“Yes,” Mingi replied, a little uncertain.

“Continue.”

It took Mingi a moment to get back into it. He was almost mechanical as he unbuttoned the jeans and pulled the zipper down, but Hongjoong watched in the mirror as Mingi’s eyes roamed over his own body, getting wider as he met Hongjoong’s in the mirror, making him blush.

It was like Mingi couldn’t decide where to look. Like he didn’t know whether he liked watching himself, or if he liked seeing how Hongjoong reacted to him more, so his eyes kept flickering between the two. He slid his jeans down slowly, before stepping out of them and pushing them out of the way. Then he ran his hands over his own body, down his shoulders and his chest, rubbing over his nipples and then trailing down to his underwear. He grinned at Hongjoong as he hooked his thumbs into the underwear, tugging on the elastic, pulling it down and revealing more skin, but not pulling them off completely, as they stuck on the swell of his ass and the jut of his hard cock.

Hongjoong giggled, leaning back on the bed again as he watched. His hand wandered down to his cock, which was still hard, and he started idly stroking himself. He noticed how Mingi’s eyes caught on the action, and smirked. Mingi finally pulled his underwear all the way down, making his ass jiggle as the elastic slid down.

As he finished, Mingi stood in front of the mirror, meeting Hongjoong’s eyes again.

“Good job, sweetheart,” Hongjoong said, sitting up on the bed. “Come here.”

Mingi turned around, walking to the bed. He stopped at the foot of it, waiting for his next instruction, beautiful obedience in his every graceful move. Hongjoong scooted back a little and spread his legs.

“Come,” he said. “Sit.”

Mingi was a little awkward as he clambered onto the bed, and Hongjoong used his hands to guide Mingi until he was sitting between Hongjoong’s legs, back to Hongjoong’s chest.

Directly facing the mirror.

The difference in their builds was only emphasised when they were sat like this, with Hongjoong almost completely hidden behind Mingi’s larger frame. Hongjoong turned his head to kiss Mingi’s shoulder.

“My beautiful boy,” Hongjoong said, running his hand down Mingi’s torso. Mingi leaned his head back onto Hongjoong’s shoulder, eyes slipping closed. Hongjoong massaged his chest in a circular motion, pinching his nipples lightly, before moving down his stomach and towards his cock. Mingi hummed, his breathing slow and easy. He sank a little lower on the bed as Hongjoong’s hands ran all over his torso, down to his thighs, pulling them up and splaying his legs out.

“Please,” Mingi breathed out, as Hongjoong’s hands got close to Mingi’s cock where it was resting against his stomach, but skirted just past it. Mingi’s hips rolled minutely, again and again, like he was trying to fuck up into something that wasn’t there.

“Aw, sweetheart,” Hongjoong cooed. “What do you want? Am I not taking good enough care of you?”

“No, y—yes—I mean—” Mingi choked off a groan as Hongjoong’s fingers squeezed his nipple.

“You can use your words, baby,” Hongjoong encouraged him, while doing everything he could to make sure Mingi’s mind got too overwhelmed to speak. He kissed the side of Mingi’s neck, before grazing his teeth over it and then sucking hard.

“P—please,” Mingi said. “Please, Hongjoong-Hyung, please can I—I mean – ah – will you please—please touch me, touch my cock, please.”

“Here?” Hongjoong asked, loosely circling Mingi’s cock with one hand.

“Yes,” Mingi said through gritted teeth. “Please, please, touch me, anything.”

“Like this?” Hongjoong teased, stroking Mingi’s cock lightly, teasingly.

Mingi whined. “More, please, I need—” Mingi choked off a frustrated groan, his hips bucking up into Hongjoong’s hand.

“More?”

“Please,” Mingi begged.

“Open your eyes,” Hongjoong said. “Look.”

Mingi did as he was told. He met Hongjoong’s eyes in the mirror.

“Look at how desperate you are for me,” Hongjoong said, making his fist just a little bit tighter. Mingi’s eyes fell closed and Hongjoong used his free hand to pinch Mingi’s side, making him open his eyes again. “I told you to look.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mingi said.

“Look at how much you need it,” Hongjoong said, watching as Mingi’s eyes roamed over his own body again, landing on Hongjoong’s hand as it slowly jerked him off.

“Need you,” Mingi said.

“You need me?” Hongjoong asked, tightening his grip again. He gathered some of the precome from the tip and spread it down Mingi’s length.

“You, just you,” Mingi said, leaning back heavier in Hongjoong’s lap. His hand gripped Hongjoong’s thigh, squeezing the muscle as Hongjoong’s hand started moving faster. “Just you, Hongjoong…”

Hearing Mingi sigh his name like that, from pleasure and possession, satisfied that dark part deep within Hongjoong. It egged him on, wanting more. “That’s right, just me.” He kept going, using one hand to tease over Mingi’s skin, leaving little kisses on his shoulders and the side of his face and neck where he could reach, while jerking him off with his other hand, until Mingi’s hips started stuttering in his grip. “Are you close, baby?”

“Yeah,” Mingi moaned. “Yeah, please, don’t stop.”

Hongjoong stopped.

“No,” Mingi whined, one hand gripping Hongjoong’s wrist while the other squeezed his thigh tighter. “Please, Hyung.”

“My hand is tired,” Hongjoong said, pulling back. “You can do it yourself.” He met Mingi’s eyes in the mirror. “I want to watch you.”

Mingi whimpered, but let go of Hongjoong’s hand, moving to grip his own cock. He was pouting.

“If you put on a good show for me, maybe I’ll give you something special in return, baby,” Hongjoong whispered in Mingi’s ear. Mingi’s eyes shot up to meet his in the mirror. Then he nodded. “Good boy.”

It didn’t take long for Mingi to lose himself in pleasure again, his hand moving confidently over his cock. Hongjoong wasn’t really expecting Mingi to put on much of a show, but to his credit, Mingi did his best to obey when Hongjoong whispered ‘slow down’ and ‘tighter’ and ‘let me see how wet you are, baby,’ into his ear.

Hongjoong watched Mingi’s hand, so much larger than his own, fingers wrapped around his cock, thumb teasing the tip, motions clearly familiar and practiced. Had Mingi done this before? Jerked off in front of the mirror like this? Mingi’s face was flushed, and he was biting his lip as he monitored his work in the mirror, focused on the task at hand.

“Can I?” Mingi asked. “Can I, please—?”

“Yeah baby, you can come for me.”

He still moaned Hongjoong’s name when he came, spilling over his fist and slumping back in Hongjoong’s arms.

“Did I—did I do good?”

“You were so good for me, sweetheart,” Hongjoong reassured him with a kiss. “So beautiful.” He helped Mingi move up a little higher on the bed. Mingi was all long floppy limbs and happy sighs, like an endearing, tired out little puppy. Hongjoong’s chest felt full, like something warm and ever-growing was about to burst out of him.

He leaned down to press his lips to Mingi’s again. “I love you,” he whispered against Mingi’s warm mouth. He thought Mingi hadn’t heard him at first, and felt strangely relieved at that, but after a moment Mingi’s hands came to Hongjoong’s shoulders, pushing him up until their eyes met.

“I love you too,” Mingi said. He was smiling up at Hongjoong beatifically, one hand coming up to tuck Hongjoong’s hair behind his ear. It was kind of useless because Hongjoong’s hair was so short, but just the light touch of Mingi’s fingers made Hongjoong’s stomach swoop. He kissed Mingi again, before pulling back.

“Turn over, baby,” Hongjoong said. “It’s time for your reward.”

Mingi did as he was told, flopping over on the bed, making the mattress shake.

“On all fours,” Hongjoong instructed, tugging on Mingi’s waist until he moved.

“There’s lube in the drawer,” Mingi said, his voice muffled into the blanket.

“Oh, is there,” Hongjoong asked, raising an eyebrow. He leaned down, lips brushing against Mingi’s ear as he whispered, “Have you brought many people to your childhood bedroom and let them fuck you?”

Mingi shivered. “N—no,” he protested. “Just—”

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Hongjoong said, trying to convince himself more than Mingi. He didn’t want Mingi to feel bad about the past, that was unfair. It wasn’t fair to Mingi that Hongjoong wanted to be the only one who had ever touched him in any way. That was Hongjoong’s problem.

And he knew he really shouldn’t ask questions he didn’t want to know the answers to.

It didn’t matter now, he tried to tell himself.

“As long as I’m the last one,” Hongjoong said, tucking the words into the crook of Mingi’s throat. He stroked his hand down Mingi’s back to his ass. Mingi arched into it.

“You are,” Mingi said. “Only you, I promise.” Mingi turned his head, meeting Hongjoong’s eyes. “I only want to be yours.”

Hongjoong kissed him again. He had to remind himself not to get lost in it again, not to push Mingi down on the bed and spend ten minutes just exploring his mouth. He had promised him a reward, after all.

He pulled back again, moving until he was behind Mingi, settling between his legs with Mingi’s ass before him. Hongjoong put his hands on either cheek, kneading them with his fingers and palms, pushing them apart and back together, revealing a hint of his pretty pink hole.

Mingi moaned appreciatively, pushing back into Hongjoong’s hands. “The lube is—”

His words turned into a surprised, high-pitched moan, as Hongjoong bent forward and ran the flat of his tongue over Mingi’s hole.

“H-Hongjoong,” Mingi panted. He almost sounded like he was in pain. “What—?”

Hongjoong shut him up with another swipe of his tongue, before using the point of it to trace around Mingi’s rim.

The only sounds coming from Mingi after that were muffled moans and breathy sighs, his face mostly buried in the blanket, ass up and on display for Hongjoong. Hongjoong alternated between using the flat of his tongue and pointing it to press in, taking breaks in between to spit on Mingi’s hole and jerk off his cock.

Mingi always had a quick recovery time and could come far more often than Hongjoong could in an evening, but even then Hongjoong couldn’t recall Mingi ever getting hard again this quickly.

But he’d also never done this to Mingi before.

He’d thought about it. He’d wanted to bury his face between Mingi’s cheeks before, licking and sucking on his hole until Mingi was a slobbering mess who couldn’t even remember his own name. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t, before now.

Hongjoong went back to work, Mingi’s hole wet and shining with spit. He used his tongue to fuck shallowly into him, listening to Mingi’s broken moans as he did. He pulled back to blow air over Mingi’s hole, watching as it twitched in response. Mingi’s hips jerked, pushing into Hongjoong’s grip on his cock. Hongjoong pushed a finger into Mingi’s hole before joining it with his tongue, pushing in as deep as he could go. He moaned as he felt Mingi’s body respond to his touch, ignoring the tired ache in his tongue for as long as he could.

“P—please,” Mingi moaned brokenly.

Hongjoong sealed his lips over Mingi’s rim and sucked, and then Mingi was coming again, whole body spasming with it. As he stroked him through it, Hongjoong pulled back and then dug his teeth into one of Mingi’s cheeks, biting him hard. Mingi’s moans got even louder in response, and then he melted down onto the bed, as Hongjoong let go of his spent cock. Hongjoong’s teeth had left deep angry indentations in Mingi’s ass. He admired them for a moment, running his finger over the marks, before he laid down on his back next to Mingi, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

“Hongjoong…” Mingi said after a few minutes. “That was…” He struggled for a moment to turn himself over onto his side. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“No, that’s not it,” Mingi said. “I mean, you didn’t have to. I wasn’t expecting…”

“I wanted to,” Hongjoong said, turning onto his side so he could look at Mingi. There was something in his voice that Hongjoong didn’t know how to read. “Was it not okay?”

“It was great!” Mingi said. “Amazing! I didn’t know… I’ve never done that, before.” Mingi bit his lip. “I told you, I’ll tell you if you do something I don’t like. I promise.” He let the words sink in, his gaze fierce. “I won’t let you go too far. You don’t have to be scared.”

“But I—”

Mingi moved, pushing Hongjoong onto his back before swinging one leg over Hongjoong’s waist until he was straddling him, taking each of Hongjoong’s hands and pinning them above his head. His weight was heavy on Hongjoong, holding him down.

He always knew that Mingi was stronger than him. Even if Hongjoong worked out as much as the others, Mingi would always have the size advantage on him. If he wanted to, he could throw Hongjoong around like a ragdoll. The size difference had never bothered Hongjoong, because Mingi was always just… Mingi to him. He loved him. He loved his laugh and his goofy humour and his big body and small waist and long limbs. He loved kissing him and fucking him and making music with him. The size had always just been incidental.

And it wasn’t that Hongjoong would never be able to overstep Mingi’s boundaries just because Mingi was bigger and stronger than him. Hongjoong could still push him too far. He could still lose control of that grotesque, warped desire inside himself and do something horrible to Mingi.

But… Feeling how easily Mingi could hold him down… It soothed something in Hongjoong. Some worry that he’d been holding on to all this time. It didn’t solve everything, but something eased inside him.

Mingi was looking down at him, expression adorably determined. “Can I take care of you now?”

“Of course, baby, you can do whatever you want,” Hongjoong replied, grinning. It was a scary thing to offer, ‘whatever you want,’ but Hongjoong didn’t feel uneasy about it. He knew Mingi. He trusted him. He would do anything for him.

Mingi ground his ass down against Hongjoong’s hips, making Hongjoong’s cock stir again. “Can I ride you?” he asked, as if Hongjoong hadn’t just offered his body to Mingi to do with as he pleased. As if Hongjoong would ever say no to anything Mingi asked of him.

“Yeah baby, show me how good you are,” Hongjoong said.

The weight lifted off his wrists as Mingi sat back up, settling heavier on Hongjoong’s hips. He twisted his torso so he could look behind himself, using one hand to find Hongjoong’s cock and settling it between the cheeks of his ass. Then he started moving his hips in that signature Song Mingi way. Hongjoong moaned, his hands going to grip Mingi’s powerful hips automatically. It was almost beyond comprehension how Mingi could move like that. They’d certainly all teased him for it enough over the years. But Hongjoong couldn’t exactly say it was a bad thing, having Mingi grind down on him like this, the tip of Hongjoong’s cock catching on his spit-wet hole on every other move. If Hongjoong could just aim his hips right and thrust, he could probably—

“Lube,” Hongjoong said. Mingi had been starting to move faster and faster, his head thrown back and one hand stroking his own chest. It felt too good to be trapped between his cheeks like that. Hongjoong didn’t want to come before he could sink inside Mingi and fuck him properly.

“Y—yeah,” Mingi said, hips stuttering before he stopped moving. He had to get off Hongjoong to go find the lube, and Hongjoong turned on to his side to watch him rummage through the bedside table. “Fuck,” Mingi cursed. “I don’t—let me just go check my bag.” He got up off the bed and went into the bathroom. Hongjoong’s eyes followed him, enjoying the view. Then he listened as Mingi opened and shut drawers and cupboards in the bathroom for a few minutes. Hongjoong was starting to make contingency plans, wondering how far away the next pharmacy was, before he heard a triumphant “Yes!” and then Mingi emerged from the bathroom, holding the little blue tube in his hand.

Mingi’s enthusiasm was infectious, and he descended on Hongjoong quickly, pushing him back down onto the bed and covering Hongjoong’s mouth with his. He was eager, excited, and Hongjoong matched his energy, hand coming to Mingi’s hair and smiling into the kiss. Mingi bit Hongjoong’s bottom lip, pressing him down into the mattress with all his weight, and then moved to Hongjoong’s throat.

Hongjoong felt a little ticklish, feeling Mingi’s warm breath on his sensitive skin, but Mingi was surprisingly demanding as he nipped at his throat, tugging at the skin with his teeth before sucking it between his lips. Hongjoong squirmed beneath him but allowed Mingi to do what he wanted. There was something possessive about the way Mingi’s mouth was on him, and it made Hongjoong’s heart soar. He wrapped his other hand around Mingi’s body, holding him close. He didn’t even realise that he was hard again until Mingi’s hand wrapped around Hongjoong’s cock, moving slowly from base to tip and back down again. He moved to another spot on Hongjoong’s throat, one that felt even more sensitive to Mingi’s tongue and teeth, and Hongjoong’s hand in Mingi’s hair tightened, tugging on the strands as he arched his neck up into Mingi’s mouth.

“F—fuck, Mingi-yah,” Hongjoong groaned.

“Yeah,” Mingi said, nipping at Hongjoong’s throat one last time, before sitting back up. He reached for the lube with one hand while positioning himself on top of Hongjoong again. Pouring a generous amount into his hand, he wasted no time before he was reaching behind himself. Hongjoong stroked Mingi’s thighs as they flexed, watching Mingi’s expression as he fingered himself.

“That feel good, baby?” Hongjoong asked, eagerly drinking in every twitch of Mingi’s eyebrow and every soft sigh that left his lips.

“Yeah,” Mingi said softly, head thrown back. Hongjoong’s eye caught on the movement in the mirror. They had ended up diagonal on the bed, so if Hongjoong turned his head towards it, he could see Mingi’s side profile in the mirror, the long line of his body and the arch of his back as he opened himself up with his fingers.

Every moan and whisper that Mingi let out egged Hongjoong on more. He wanted to put his hands on Mingi’s waist and flip them over so he could bury his cock inside his familiar heat over and over again. But Mingi had asked nicely. And he deserved to get whatever he asked from Hongjoong. He deserved to get whatever he wanted, and Hongjoong would give it to him as long as it was in his power to do so, no matter what. So, he gritted his teeth and let his hips rut up a little bit as his hands squeezed Mingi’s thighs, with a small “Fuck.”

Mingi looked at him curiously, pausing his movements. Then he smirked. “You want to fuck me?” He seemed caught between surprise and delight.

“Mingi…” Hongjoong bit his lip, nails digging into Mingi’s thighs. “Yeah, fuck...”

Again, Mingi’s fingers wrapped around Hongjoong’s cock, slotting it in between his cheeks, now slippery with lube.

“Ah, fuck,” Hongjoong moaned, throwing one arm over his mouth to muffle the sound. His teeth dug into his forearm as Mingi rolled his hips, making sparks of pleasure shoot down Hongjoong’s spine.

“Hongjoong?” Mingi prompted, rolling his hips again, stoking the heat growing in Hongjoong’s stomach.

“Yes,” Hongjoong said through gritted teeth, gripping Mingi’s waist and rocking his hips up. “Yes, I want to fuck you so bad, I love being inside you, I love it when you come on my cock, I love when I get to come inside you, I love it when you moan my name, I love—”

Mingi raised his hips up and then sank down onto Hongjoong’s cock in one fluid motion full of a dancer’s grace.

“—I love— I love you,” Hongjoong finished.

“Oh, fuck,” Mingi sighed, biting his lip and scrunching his eyebrows. “Fuck, Hongjoong…” Mingi paused for only a moment to adjust and catch his breath, before his powerful thighs and hips started moving. He lifted his hips up before sliding back down, his ass slapping against Hongjoong’s thighs. Hongjoong moaned as his cock was enveloped in Mingi’s perfect, slick heat, over and over.

It always blew his mind how good Mingi was at that. At using his strong, flexible hips to perfectly fuck himself on Hongjoong’s cock. Moving in exquisite rhythm, never coming close to letting Hongjoong’s cock slip out, and keeping up a speed that made Hongjoong’s brain start to short-circuit from how good it felt.

Then again, his talent shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who’d ever seen him dance. Let alone someone who had watched Mingi for years, ever since he was a trainee, and seen him develop into the man he was today.

It was still incredible to Hongjoong. It shouldn’t be possible for someone to move like that. It was a thought he had whenever he watched Mingi dancing.

Or when Mingi was riding him.

The fluidity of his movements, the way he could flex and move his hips, and the incredibly exact control he had over his entire body, all made him incredibly good at his craft.

Hongjoong turned his head again, looking in the mirror. Mingi looked stunning on top of him, moving with precision and determination. He wasn’t dancing to music, feeling the beat within him. No, he was working towards a goal, working himself up to something, his cock standing at attention again, bobbing up and down as he moved, leaving a trail of precome as it kissed Hongjoong’s stomach.

“What—?” Mingi started, noticing Hongjoong’s gaze elsewhere. When he followed it, his movements faltered for a minute as he took in the scene in the mirror. Hongjoong met his eyes in their reflection. Mingi’s were heavy lidded, his lips red and swollen as he pulled his lower lip back into his mouth between his teeth. He started moving again, slower now. Hongjoong let his hand drop from Mingi’s waist, so they had a less obstructed view. Mingi even turned his hips a little towards the mirror, his eyes focused on the place where their bodies connected.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong said, drawing Mingi’s eyes back to his in the mirror. He used the opportunity while Mingi was momentarily distracted to plant his feet on the mattress and fuck up into Mingi. Mingi let out a short, punctured moan, and Hongjoong coaxed another one out of him when he repeated the motion. They got shorter and more staccato as Hongjoong thrust up into Mingi, faster and faster, chasing his release. He’d been hard for so long now that his cock was aching with need, and more than anything he wanted to come deep inside Mingi to really seal his claim on him.

“Fuck,” Mingi sobbed. “Hongjoong—Hyung… Please…” His hands gripped Hongjoong’s thighs as he held on, looking overwhelmed from Hongjoong’s movements, and then he was coming again, his cock spurting weakly onto Hongjoong’s stomach as Mingi threw his head back in a long moan, one hand stroking himself through his orgasm.

Hongjoong’s control finally snapped as Mingi’s hole clenched around him. His ass and thighs were getting tired from the effort it took to fuck Mingi from this angle, so he sat up, pushing Mingi back on the mattress, sticking so close to him that his cock barely slipped out as he manoeuvred Mingi’s large body onto his back. He’d promised Mingi to let him ride Hongjoong, to let him take care of Hongjoong, but in the end Hongjoong hadn’t been able to hold back any longer.

“Oh,” Mingi moaned, his voice going into a higher pitch that was rarely heard from him. He kept it up as Hongjoong started fucking him, his moans filling the room in concert with the sound of Hongjoong’s hips slapping against Mingi’s ass.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Hongjoong said, leaning over Mingi’s body. He lowered himself down, his chest flush to Mingi’s, using mostly the movements of his hips to fuck Mingi shallowly as he brought their lips together again. Mingi still moaned into Hongjoong’s mouth, the slide of their lips uncoordinated and breathy. “Mingi…”

“Hongjoong,” Mingi replied, his arms coming up around Hongjoong’s neck, holding him close.

His big, round eyes looked up at Hongjoong, full of warmth and vulnerability. He looked so precious, so fragile, but at the same time so strong, so infinitely patient and kind. His large hand slid down to cup Hongjoong’s cheek. He looked at Hongjoong like he knew him, like he trusted him, like he—

“I love you, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong almost blacked out when his orgasm hit him, blindsiding him completely. The low hum of pleasure that had been simmering low in his stomach the whole time suddenly bubbled, boiling into white-hot ecstasy that left Hongjoong feeling almost lost in it, like it was too much for his brain to process. Like he could get submerged in it until he got lost in the depths, never to be found again. The only thing that was keeping him from sinking down into the abyss was Mingi’s hand on his face and his thighs around Hongjoong’s waist.

Solid. Strong. Gentle.

He still felt like he was being engulfed by the waves, battered over and over again until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, didn’t know which way was up, towards the sky, towards the fresh air.

Towards the sun.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Warm hands at his face.

Hongjoong drew in a deep, shuddering breath. It felt like the first one he’d taken in a while, his lungs screaming at him before the blessed relief of oxygen flooding into his chest.

Gentle fingers on his cheeks. Wiping away wetness.

Was he crying?

“It’s okay,” Mingi was saying, his deep voice rumbling in his chest beneath Hongjoong. “I’ve got you, I’ll never let you go.”

Hongjoong could feel his fingers again, and he clutched at Mingi’s shoulders, his torso, wherever he could reach, leaving angry red claw marks on the skin. “Never?”

“Never. I promise.”

It felt like every muscle in Hongjoong’s body had been tensed for a long time. He let out a long, trembling breath, feeling his limbs give out as he did, his mind going empty again. Mingi lifted him slightly, rearranging them so Hongjoong was resting more comfortably in his arms. Hongjoong’s muscles couldn’t even muster the strength to help him, like they were no longer taking instructions from Hongjoong’s brain. Mingi kissed the top of Hongjoong’s head, pulling one of the blankets over them where they lay. Hongjoong couldn’t even remember them moving to the top of the bed, but there were pillows and blankets around them and he felt the warmth of Mingi’s body slowly seeping into his cold, numb limbs.

“Are you okay?” Mingi asked after a while. Hongjoong wasn’t sure how long, exactly. He might have fallen asleep and it had been hours, or he might have just been staring at his favourite mole on Mingi’s chest for a few minutes as he tried to become a person again. He couldn’t tell which.

“Yeah.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“I don’t know.” Hongjoong tried to lift his hand, but it still wouldn’t obey him. Mingi’s arms were strong around Hongjoong’s body, keeping him securely in place. Making sure he didn’t float away.

“Okay.”

This time, Hongjoong was pretty sure he did fall asleep, because it was starting to get darker outside when he came to again.

He felt more like he was coming together again. He could feel the stickiness of his skin where it rested on Mingi’s and the feeling of Mingi’s fingers gently stroking over his back. He could feel thump of Mingi’s heartbeat beneath him.

“Do you want to shower?” Mingi asked.

“I’m supposed to be the one to take care of you,” Hongjoong protested into Mingi’s chest. The fact that he was able to reply in full sentences felt like a good sign. He could feel humiliated about how pathetic he was being later.

“Ah,” Mingi scolded him. “You can let me do it sometimes, it won’t kill you.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong said. He let Mingi pull him to his feet and help him into the shower. Moving his body got Hongjoong feeling like he could control his limbs again, and before long he was kissing Mingi underneath the spray of the shower while Mingi rubbed shampoo into Hongjoong’s hair.

Hongjoong still felt a little bit off, but not exactly wrong. Like he had emptied himself too much. More than he’d intended, at the very least. More than he ever had before.

“You’re insatiable,” Hongjoong said into Mingi’s smiling lips, when he felt Mingi’s erection against his stomach.

“I’m a young man in my prime,” Mingi said, shamelessly rutting against Hongjoong. “Is it too much for you, old man?”

“You brat,” Hongjoong muttered, pinning Mingi against the tiles as he jerked him slow and loose and soapy, until Mingi was begging for release again.

It didn’t even take that long.

Hongjoong felt mostly back to himself as they wandered into the kitchen. He was wearing joggers and a hoodie that belonged to Mingi, both of them comically large on him, even though the trousers were from when Mingi was a kid. Even if he was back to himself, Hongjoong still felt a little wobbly on his feet, and Mingi grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up onto the counter, occasionally coming by and hand-feeding him small pieces of vegetables as he cooked, scolding Hongjoong if he made a face as he chewed and telling Hongjoong it was good for him. Sometimes he’d even stand between Hongjoong’s thighs and lean in to kiss him, or to rub their noses together, or poke his cheek.

It felt nice. Usually, maybe Hongjoong would get too impatient to enjoy a moment like this, feeling like he should be doing something. For now, it felt easy. Restful.

Until he heard the front door opening, and a female voice calling into the house.

“Mingi? I’m home!”

“We’re in the kitchen!” Mingi called back, not looking up from his pan where he was stir frying the vegetables and tofu. Hongjoong felt panic pumping into his bloodstream as his eyes landed on the pretty unmistakable red marks on Mingi’s throat. Not to mention the mess in his bedroom and the fact that Hongjoong was wearing Mingi’s clothes.

Mingi didn’t seem bothered at all.

His mom came in and kissed Mingi on the cheek before noticing Hongjoong and greeting him warmly. Hongjoong jumped down from the counter and did his best to act polite and respectful, even as his cheeks burned. He felt so rude, being here without being invited, dirtying up her counters, and worst of all, debauching her son.

Dinner with Mingi and his mother was not as awkward as Hongjoong had worried it would be. He was usually good at charming parents, at least superficially. He’d just never been in quite the situation he was in now. And he’d never met the parents of someone he was—

Well, what were they, exactly? Dating? Boyfriends?

Mingi didn’t seem fussed at all, even though Hongjoong had seen his mom noticing the obvious signs on his skin. He just talked about anything and everything, asking her about her day and going into the finer details of his choices of vegetables for the jeyuk-bokkeum. Hongjoong mostly smiled and nodded and laughed politely in the right moments.

Mingi’s mom had always been nice to Hongjoong, and to his surprise, she still was, including him in their conversations and asking him about what he was currently working on. Hongjoong felt a little less panicked when she smiled at him warmly, nodding as he explained about one of his fashion side-projects.

“Ah, that was good,” Mingi said, putting down his empty plate. Hongjoong had mostly finished his, too, and he agreed. Mingi was a good chef. Mingi patted his stomach with a sigh. Then he looked up at his mom across the kitchen table. “I think I’m ready to go back.”

His mom looked at him for a moment, before nodding at him, glancing between him and Hongjoong.

Hongjoong started blushing again, but he didn’t feel any shame or anger directed at him, so he tried to stay calm.

Mingi packed his bags quickly, putting Hongjoong’s clothes there too, and before Hongjoong knew it, they were walking in the crisp winter air back to Hongjoong’s car at the park. They walked in silence for a while, though it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was one of the familiar silences that they often had when they would hang out, before. Hongjoong was carrying Mingi’s backpack, while Mingi had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. About halfway to the park the way they’d gone before, Mingi grabbed Hongjoong’s hand, surprisingly warm in the cold night.

“Let’s walk through the park,” he said, pulling Hongjoong along to a path between some houses that Hongjoong hadn’t noticed earlier.

The path in the park was lit up with warm street lamps. The park was emptier than it had been earlier in the day, probably because the weather had turned so unseasonably cold for so close to spring. It was nice, though. Walking through the park with just the two of them.

“You know,” Mingi said, slowing down a little. “When you first said you were in love with me… I didn’t know what to think.” He came to a halt, turning to face Hongjoong. His face was lit by a lamp a few metres away, casting sharp shadows over his handsome face. “Because I didn’t realise then that I was in love with you too. I hadn’t allowed myself to even consider it, because I never thought you would feel that way about me.” He paused, looking down and letting his hair fall into his face, obscuring him from Hongjoong. “And when you said you were in love with me, suddenly it all clicked, and I realised that I was in love with you too.” He looked a little rueful, when he looked up to meet Hongjoong’s eyes again.

“Then why…?”

“And then you said… you said, ‘and I can’t stop it.’” Mingi looked away again, tucking his hair behind his ear. He looked like he was in pain, and Hongjoong took his hand again, squeezing it. “And I thought… I thought you meant that you didn’t want to be. That I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong said. The look on Mingi’s face back then, just before he’d turned and run away from Hongjoong, flashed through his mind. Hongjoong’s jaw clenched. “I… I didn’t want to be,” he said, trying to figure out the best way to explain something that he hardly understood himself. Mingi waited for him to go on, expression still pained. “Because I was scared. I was scared of myself, and of how I felt about you, and what I would do to you. I didn’t think I could ever be good enough to deserve you.”

Mingi’s expression softened.

“I still don’t think I do,” Hongjoong said. “But I will try. I promised you I’d try to be deserving of you.” Hongjoong paused, thinking back. “But when I said that… It was… it was more of an apology to you, than anything else.”

“Hongjoong,” Mingi said, stepping closer and dropping his duffel bag on the ground with a muffled thump. He pulled Hongjoong closer by the waist. “I trust you.”

It should’ve scared Hongjoong. He should’ve protested, said that no, you shouldn’t trust me. But instead, the words felt comforting. Like a reminder.

“I know you. I know despite everything that you would never hurt me.” There was a pause, and then Mingi grinned his goofy little grin, making Hongjoong’s heart swell. “I mean, not in a way that I didn’t ask for, or deserve.”

Hongjoong smiled back, a little wetly. “And you’ll tell me.” It was not quite an order, but equally not a question.

“I will,” Mingi promised with a finality that reverberated through Hongjoong’s body, settling deep within him. He leaned his forehead against Hongjoong’s. “I won’t let you do something that makes you hate yourself. I love you too much for that.” He leaned in, angling his face so that his lips could brush against Hongjoong’s. Hongjoong kissed him back, holding Mingi’s hand tightly in his own.

When they pulled apart, Mingi bent down to pick up his bag again, hooking the strap over his shoulder. When he looked back up again, he giggled in delight. “Look! It’s snowing!” He pointed at the street lamp ahead of them.

Sure enough, they could see little flakes of snow wafting slowly to the ground.

“It’s supposed to be almost spring,” Hongjoong said. Then, a snowflake landed on his nose. It was icy cold as it melted on his skin, making him feel alive. Mingi laughed again, filling Hongjoong with warmth, before he pulled Hongjoong along again. Hongjoong allowed himself to be dragged for a few metres before coming to a stop, and pulling Mingi so he was facing him, fluffy little flakes of white slowly drifting down around them.

“I do love you,” Hongjoong said, feeling like it was important for him to make it clear. Mingi could never have any doubt over it again. “So much.” He smiled at Mingi.

“I love you too,” Mingi said like it was the easiest thing in the world, smiling back at Hongjoong. “That’s how I know everything will be okay.”

— ⭒ — ⭒ —

belle: help me. i am the monster, my beast.