Archive of Our Own

Music boomed through the thin walls, shaking the paint brushes laid out on Yeosang’s desk.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Yeosang groaned, leaning back from his canvas as he rubbed at his temple, exhaustion finally beginning to set in. 

It was 7 p.m. on a Friday. For most college students, that meant going out and getting as wasted as possible. 

For Kang Yeosang, it meant cramming for his final art assignment. His head was throbbing after a long day of lectures, his eyes burned, and the canvas in front of him remained blank. 

The assignment was simple, paint what moves you. That was all his professor gave. No rubric or any further explanation, just a blank canvas and expectations. It was assigned a few weeks ago, and in typical Yeosang fashion, he pushed it off in the belief that it would be simple enough. 

But now, 3 days before the due date, Yeosang sits in his messy room with bloodshot eyes and no ideas. 

And his roommate's obnoxiously loud music. 

“I can’t believe him.” He huffed before pushing himself off his stool and toward his door, stepping over piles of clothes on the way.

He slowly trudged out of his room and into the living room. Luckily, he and his roommate were seniors and got access to student apartments. The extra space was more than welcome. Of course, Yeosang loved Wooyoung, but there was no way he could stomach sharing a cramped dorm with him for another year. 

“Wooyoung!” He yelled outside of Wooyoung’s door. And as usual, no response. 

Only after Yeosang used what little energy he had left to pound on the door did the raven haired man finally open it.

“Yeosang? Were you calling me?” Wooyoung poked his head out with a concerned look on his face.

The smell hit Yeoang immediately, earthy and sharp. He scowled. “If you turned down your shitty music, you would’ve heard me.” 

He was already on edge from his assignment, it didn’t take much to work his nerves. “And we talked about this,” he added sharply. “No smoking in the apartment, do it on the balcony.”

Wooyoung frowned before shutting the door. Yeosang scoffed, disbelief setting in quickly. But before he could add anything else, the music dropped to a lower volume and the door opened again.

Wooyoung tilted his head and flashed his signature grin as he stepped aside to let Yeosang in.

Reluctantly, Yeosang entered the room and immediately broke into an exaggerated cough as smoke curled through the room, a half smoked blunt sitting. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered. 

Wooyoung laughed and gave him a light swat on the back. Yeosang shoved him in return, the exchange devolving into a brief and childish scuffle before they both fell back onto the bed.

Wooyoung looked over to Yeosang with a smile, one much softer than before. “This is what happens when you choose to live with your best friend, Yeosang.”

Yeosang sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

Wooyoung turned his whole body to face the blonde, propping his head up with his hand. “Hey, are you really upset with me?” he asked sincerely.

Now, Yeosang locked eyes with him and let out another long breath. “No, Woo, I’m not mad at you. Just…annoyed at myself, I guess.”

Wooyoung hummed and raised his eyebrows, a silent invitation that Yeosang understood meant: “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“My art final,” Yeosang started. “I have no idea what to do, but it’s due in three days, and I was convinced I could just… figure it out. Which, shocker, has not been the case.” 

Wooyoung snorted. “You? Choosing to procrastinate? That’s unheard of.” He said sarcastically.

Yeosang rolled his eyes. “I was doing so well this year, like, actually staying on top of my assignments. And now that it’s literally the last assignment, it feels like my brain just shut off.”

He picked at the frayed edges of his shirt. “And it’s our last year, so there’s that. If I don’t get this assignment in, I’ll fail the entire class.” 

Wooyoung reached over and ran his fingers through Yeosang’s golden hair, lazy and familiar. “Ok, yeah, do you want a hit of my blunt?”

Wooyoung let out a yelp as Yeosang slapped his stomach. “Ow! Seriously, it would help you relax!”

Yeosang exhaled a breathless laugh at the idea of himself high before returning his face into a convincing scowl.

“Three days isn’t the end of the world,” Wooyoung said, his voice laced with sincerity. “You’re smart, you always have been. And stupidly talented, which is honestly kind of annoying.”

That earned a small laugh. “Wow. So comforting.”

“I’m serious! I’ve watched you freak out over every project you’ve ever had and then turn in something amazing. This isn’t any different.”

Yeosang went quiet, now looking up at the ceiling.

“Complain away,” he said, nudging Yeosang lightly. “I’m not gonna stop you. Just don’t give up on it before even starting.” 

Yeosang let out a slow breath, finally feeling some of the tension ease off his shoulders. 

“Yeah…ok, he muttered, shifting a little. “Thanks, Woo.”

Wooyoung leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Yeosang’s forehead, earning a kick on the back as he got up from the twin sized bed.

He stood in front of the nightstand and took a long hit of the blunt, leaving it hanging from his mouth as he turned the music back up a little louder.

The song filled the room, aggressive and fast paced. It wasn’t something Yeosang would usually enjoy, but he found himself bobbing his head. He sat up in bed and watched as Wooyoung moved over to the closet, sorting through his plethora of clothes.

“What are you getting ready for?” 

Wooyoung let another puff of smoke out before setting the blunt down and turning to face Yeosang. “I didn’t tell you? Shit, my bad,” he began, now looking back at the closet. “A couple of my friends from my major are performing tonight, over at that new bar that opened up.” He pulled out a pair of black straight leg pants and threw them over to the bed. 

“That’s why I was smoking. You know, pre-gaming, or whatever. I won't do it again, though, promise.” 

Yeosang nodded slowly, leaning back on his arms. This wasn’t the first time he had apologized for smoking inside, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

“Hey, do you think the red top or the black one looks better?” He held the two shirts up against him, swapping them a few times before Yeosang pointed to the red one.

Yeosang plopped back down onto the bed, letting the song wash over him. The vocals were deep, and he could barely even keep up with the lyrics, but the pounding of the bass soothed him in an unfamiliar way.

He watched through half lidded eyes as Wooyoung continued to move through the room, now starting on his hair. 

“You should come with me.” He looked at Yeosang through the mirror, running gel through his hair.

“Me? No, I-” 

“Don’t start,” Wooyoung said immediately. “You’ve been cooped up for days,  you’re clearly stressing yourself into a spiral, and staring at that blank canvas isn’t helping.”

“You know that’s not my thing, Woo.” He replied weakly. 

“So what?” Wooyoung shot back. “Come out, listen to some music, drink something, get those creative juices flowing.” 

Yeosang sat up once again, eyes drifting to the speaker, the song still filling the room. “I just don’t really feel like being out.”

“You don’t have to be out. Just be somewhere else. With me.” 

Silence stretched for a moment.

“…I’ll think about it,” Yeosang replied.

Wooyoung let out a shrill laugh. “That’s a yes!” 

In a few quick steps, Wooyoung was in front of him, grabbing Yeosang’s wrist and hauling him up from the bed and steering him toward the closet.

Yeosang turned to face him, clearly confused, and Wooyoung laughed under his breath.

“Yeo,” he said, flipping through hangers, “all you wear are oversized sweaters and those, what are they called, grandpa hats.” 

“The fuck?” Yeosang shot back, eyebrow lifting. “What’s wrong with my berets?” 

“Nothing,” Wooyoung replied quickly, “They’re cute, so cute. They make you look all soft and angelic.” He glanced over his shoulder. “But that is not the vibe tonight.” 

Normally, Yeosang would argue that his clothes were perfectly fine. But between already agreeing to go out and feeling too tired to fight it, he just sighed and let Wooyoung take over.

“Hmm,” Wooyoung hummed thoughtfully. “Actually, maybe we can lean into the angel thing.” He paused, then grinned. “But make it, like, slutty.” 

Yeosang responded immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“I look like a slut.”

“Perfect! Let me see!” Wooyoung shouted from the living room.

Yeosang stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for a second longer, his lips pressed into an unimpressed pout. They were glossy and lightly tinted, the shine caught in the light. He tilted his head to take in the rest of the makeup that Wooyoung had done. His eyes looked edgy with a subtle brown smoky look, which perfectly contrasted with the light blush and white crop top they had settled on. 

It was a simple outfit, the crop top ended slightly above the black jeans, showing a sliver of stomach. The pants were loose, but still somehow tight in all the right places. 

He wasn’t used to outfits like this, usually opting for a comfortable tracksuit or anything oversized. But seeing the tight clothes hug his muscles perfectly gave him an odd boost of confidence.

He took a deep breath before turning off the bathroom light and making his way to the living room.

“Holy shit.” Wooyoung gasped, throwing his phone onto the couch. In typical Wooyoung fashion, he was wearing all black and had minimal makeup on, with only black eyeshadow lining his eyes. 

“Don’t be overdramatic,” Yeosang replied monotonously, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

“Overdramatic?” Wooyoung laughed. “Yeo, you look hot. Like, really good. Wow, maybe I should switch majors and go into fashion.” He circled Yeosang, admiring his work.

Yeosang’s cheeks reddened, whatever confidence boost he had was now turning into self consciousness. “You say that like I don’t usually look good.” 

Wooyoung stopped in front of him, his eyes slightly growing wide. “Hey, no. That’s not what I meant.” His voice softened. “You always look good. This is just different, in a good way!”

Their eyes met, and the teasing turned into something quieter. Wooyoung’s worry melted as he pulled Yeosang into a hug.

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” he murmured. “I promise it’ll be fun.” 

Yeosang smiled, resting his chin against Wooyoung’s shoulder. “Okay, okay. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Wooyoung nodded before quickly pecking Yeosang on the cheek and pulled away, leading him towards the door of their apartment.

The club was easy to miss if you didn’t know what you were looking for. “The Black Cat” was tucked in between a rundown convenience store and a small family owned restaurant. There was no big sign, just a small logo of a cat painted on the window. A group of girls stood outside, thin lines of smoke curled out of the circle they stood in.

Yeosang hummed, his eyes flickering between the entrance and the people scattered around as he and Wooyoung crossed the street. His stomach fluttered from a mix of nerves and excitement. 

As they walked closer, someone exited the club. As the door opened, dim light spilled onto the sidewalk, and a rush of sound followed before the door shut again.

Now standing directly outside of the entrance, Wooyoung reached for the door. “You still good?”

Yeosang hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Inside, the air was thick with sweat, smoke, and something sweet Yeosang couldn’t place. The lights were low, and the ones by the stage were washed in deep reds and purples. Circle tables and booths were lined on the edges of the room, leaving the middle open for people to dance in front of the stage. 

Wooyoung slipped through the crowd, his hand wrapped around Yeosang’s wrist to keep him close. “My friends should already be here,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Performances start soon.” 

Yeosang allowed himself to be pulled along. The bass buzzed in his ear, grounding and overwhelming him at the same time. 

They weaved through people until they reached a small table tucked in the corner. 

“There they are, Sangie,” Wooyoung said, already smiling.

A tall brunette made eye contact, and his face lit up immediately. “Finally,” he said, standing to pull Wooyoung into a hug. “I thought you ditched.”

“As if,” Wooyoung replied. “You know I’d never miss this. I was busy getting Yeosang ready.”

The brunette looked over to Yeosang, his intimidating height immediately overshadowed by his sweet smile. “You’re Yeosang? Nice to finally meet you, I’m Yunho.” 

Yeosang quirked his eyebrow up, but returned the smile. “Uh, yeah. Hi.”

A voice from the table cut in, noticing Yeosang’s confusion. “He talks about you all the time, only good things though.” 

“Shut up, Jongho.” Wooyoung scowled before sticking his tongue out. 

“Hey, that’s not true,” someone else cut in. “He also complains.” 

Yeosang turned to see a broad-shouldered man standing next to Jongho. His grin was wide and unapologetic.

“I’m San,” he said. “Nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang just smiled, already a bit overwhelmed with being at the club and already meeting new people. Wooyoung must have noticed, quickly changing the course of the conversation. “Alright, that's enough introductions. How long have you guys been waiting?”

Yunho sighed, looking towards the stage. “We got here maybe 20 minutes ago? Mingi went straight backstage, but so far there’s no word on when he’ll start.”

Yeosang sighs at the mention of yet another friend for him to meet.

“He’s probably so nervous, you should’ve seen him on the way over here.” San laughs, swaying into Jongho as he does.

Yeosang watches as the friends all stand around the table, continuing their conversation and bringing up topics he has no idea about. He glanced around the room, noticing the bar at the other end near the entrance. He doesn’t usually drink, but he could tell this would be a long night for him to get through.

“Woo, I’m gonna go get something to drink,” he whispers.

“Need me to come with you?” 

Yesoang shook his head and flashed Wooyoung a quick smile before slipping away from the table and heading to the other end of the room. As he neared the bar, his attention was caught by a man with bright orange hair, deep in conversation with one of the other patrons. Not wanting to interrupt, Yeosang lingered at the far end of the counter, his hands awkwardly tapping at the bar as he waited for the bartender to notice him. 

After a moment, the conversation wrapped up, and the man turned and made eye contact with Yeosang. “What can I get you?” he asked, his voice higher than Yeosang thought it would be.

“Uhh…” Yeosang hesitated, staring back at the man a beat too long, clearly at a loss.

The man's lips curved into an amused, almost fond smile. “First time?” he asked lightly. “It’s ok, I’ll make you something good.” 

Yeosang let a moment pass, glancing back at the dance floor. Groups of people moved together in loose clusters, laughing, bodies swaying like they didn’t have a care in the world. He quietly hopes that whatever ended up in his glass might help him feel even a fraction of that ease.

He’s brought out of his thoughts from the clink of the glass against the countertop, filled with a red liquid. The bartender slid the glass toward him, watching with an expectant look. “It tastes better than it looks.”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow and lifted it to his nose, immediately recoiling at the sharp smell of alcohol. “Oh my god,” he muttered.

The bartender laughed. “Sorry. It just kind of looked like you needed something strong.”

“What makes you say that?” Yeosang asked, the tone a bit sharper than he intended.

Before the bartender could answer, Yeosang tipped the glass back and took a gulp. The sweetness hit first, quickly followed by the burn crawling down his throat.

He coughed once, blinking. “Wow. T-thank you.” 

“No problem, have a good night.” The bartender smiled before going off to another partygoer.

Yeosang looked down at the drink once more before making his way back to the table, taking a deep breath as it came into view. 

“Welcome back!” Wooyoung smiled, shuffling over to make room for Yeosang to stand next to him.

The rest of the group continued their conversation as Yeosang nursed his drink, feeling a bit nervous to take another swig.

San leaned over, whispering. “What’s in that?”

“I have no idea…” Yeosang responded, looking down at the cup.

“Hongjoong is probably experimenting, again.” Yunho chimed in.

The table laughed, this time Yeosang did too, not even sure what the joke was.

“Maybe I should get a drink too,” Jongho sighed. “Getting a bit tired of waiting.”

“Should I text Mingi? Maybe-” Wooyoung started. He was cut off as the lights dimmed, a low rumble rolling through the room.

A wave of excitement surged through the dance floor, people cheering as a few even rushed to be closer to the stage. “Black Cat, are you fucking ready?” A deep voice boomed from offstage, the voice carried through the speakers. 

The crowd screamed back, Yunho and Wooyoung shouting along with them as the energy flowed through the room. The first beat hit like a pulse, vibrating through Yeosang’s chest. The lights snapped on in harsh flashes, and a tall figure stepped onto the stage. The crowd reacted instantly, cheers and barks, bodies pressing forward.

The figure simply stood center stage, his head dangling towards his neck. The pulse of the beat still played, like it was building up to something. The man rolled his shoulders back, adjusting the mic in his hand as he lifted his head, blond hair catching in the light as he scanned the room. A grin tugged at the corner of his full lips as the beat kicked in, and the room shifted.

He moved with the music, taking up the stage with confidence. The bass rattled the tables, through Yeosang’s chest, making it hard to focus on anything else. Eventually, the man barked out a certain verse, accompanied by a body roll, and Yeosang realized the song being performed was the same as the one Wooyoung was playing earlier.

Yeosang looked around to see if anyone was similarly affected, only to find the rest of the table jumping around. Wooyoung was shouting along to the lyrics, his arm wrapped around Yunho, who was following suit. San was rapping the lyrics as well, right into Jongho’s ear. 

Yeosang turned his attention back to the stage, quickly becoming zeroed in on the man performing once again. 

At some point, the man began to skim the crowd again, eventually moving over to the side closest to Yeosang’s table.

The blond man pointed toward Yunho with a wide grin, the two of them shouting the lyrics in sync. Then his attention snapped to Wooyoung, and they both broke into the same dance move, Wooyoung’s shrill laughter cutting through the music. When the man’s gaze shifted again, it landed on Yeosang. It was brief, but something in Yeosang’s stomach tightened anyway. The man looked away just as smoothly, his focus drawn to the other side of the stage.  

“Let’s go, Mingi!” San shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth to project his voice.

Yeosang barely registered it. His focus stayed on Mingi and the energy that buzzed under his skin. 

The song came towards its end, and the crowd was still as loud and lively as they were at the beginning. Yeosang watched as they all clapped, the lights shifting back on. 

By the time the noise settled and Mingi exited the stage, Yeosang felt like the moment had been something surreal. He laughed at himself, realizing he really needed to go out more.

“Damn, he killed that,” Wooyoung said, letting out a breathy laugh.

Yeosang nodded. “That was the same song you were playing earlier, right?”

“The one that made you almost bust my door down?” Wooyoung scoffed. “Yep. What’d you think of it? He’s pretty good, right?” 

Yeosang hummed in agreement, the buzz under his skin still lingering.

“Now Jongho,” Yunho began, “How’re you gonna follow that?”

Jongho scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, I just need to get on stage and get it over with for my grade. Don’t expect too much.” 

Yeosang looked at Jongho, confused.

“Ah, we’re all performing art majors and we all have the same professor,” Jongho pointed to himself, San, Yunho, and then to the stage. “Performing one of the songs we had to make is extra credit,” he explains.

San sighed. “Yeah, and I’m going after Jongho.” 

“I don’t know why you’re nervous, you have a great voice,” Yunho responds.

“Much better than Mingi’s singing voice, and look how well he did-” Wooyoung laughed, before a hand settled on his shoulder.

“Wanna say that again, Woo?” A deep voice rumbled behind him.

Mingi.

“Ah! Mingi! You killed it!” Wooyoung shouted, ignoring the threat as he spun around and pulled Mingi into a hug. 

Completely different from his stage persona, Mingi broke into a shy, dopey smile, one front tooth slightly crooked. Yeosang noticed before he could stop himself. His stomach fluttered, and before he could think about what that might mean, Yeosang took another sip of his drink.

Mingi tilted his head in his direction, not making eye contact. “And who’s this?” 

“Yeosang! He needed to get out tonight, so I invited him.” Wooyoung explained.

Mingi turned to face him, his eyes slowly trailing over him. “Hm.”

Yeosang showed a small smile before looking away, not sure what to make of the interaction.

“Well, I guess I’ll head backstage now. Wish me luck.” Jongho said, waving over his shoulder as he walked away from the table. 

Mingi quietly slid into Jongho's spot, right next to Yeosang.

The chatter continued around them as Mingi leaned over to Yeosang. “What’d you think?”

“Sorry?” Yeosang blinked, caught off guard.

Mingi laughed, his sharp eyes crinkling into half moons. “The performance. What’d you think?”

“Oh!” Yeosang cleared his throat. “It was good. You… had really good energy.” He replied softly.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.

Mingi hummed, clearly pleased. “I’ll take that.”

He rested his arms on the table, his elbow brushing against Yeosang’s. “Do you come to these kinds of things often?”

Yeosang hesitated. “No…is it obvious?"

Another soft grin spread across Mingi’s face. “Honestly, yeah. But that’s not a bad thing.”

Yeosang let out a quiet laugh, his shoulders loosening. “Wooyoung dragged me out. Said it’d be…inspiring.” 

“So, do you feel inspired?” Mingi asked, glancing toward the stage, then back to Yeosang.

Yeosang followed his gaze, a soft beat thrumming through the speakers. “Maybe,” he said. “I’ll have to wait and see.” He cringed internally, feeling like he was being a bit more flirty than intended. But, he’d had a few swigs of his drink, and the whole point of coming out was to loosen up. 

As Wooyoung put it, get those creative juices flowing.

Mingi nodded like he understood, slowly turning his gaze back to the group.

A few moments later, the lights began to dim, and the chatter faded once again. Jongho stepped onto the stage and introduced himself with a guitar slung low across his abdomen, which was followed by a ripple of applause.

The first few notes were quiet, warm, and soft, instantly changing the vibe as the crowd began to sway to the tune.

He noticed the couples on the dance floor growing closer, hands wrapped around each other as Jongho’s steady voice began to fill the room.

He also noticed when Mingi shifted closer.

At first, it was barely anything, a small change in distance that could be written up as wanting to see the stage more clearly. But then it was a hand on his back as someone walked behind them, and the warmth that Yeosang felt at his side when Mingi softly pulled him closer.

Yeosang noticed how grounded Mingi made him feel compared to the buzz of the room. The buzz under his skin. He quietly wondered if he was reading into it, if Mingi was like this with all of his friends. If this was just another easy thing for him.

Neither of them moved away, staying side by side as Jongho continued strumming the guitar. The rest of the table had their full attention on Jongho. Wooyoung with glassy eyes and San with a contemplative look. The song quieted, almost feeling intimate. Yeosang focused on his breathing to stop himself from overthinking the fact that Mingi was still close, his hand now hovering over his lower back. 

As if on cue, someone brushed behind both of them again, only this time they bumped into Yeosang. “Oh-” Yeosang gasped, turning to see who it was, but they had already left.

He almost didn’t notice the weight of Mingi’s hand on his hip, the smell of his cologne as he was pulled even closer. The persistent buzz under his skin. 

“No fucking manners,” Mingi muttered. He leaned in slightly, keeping his voice low. “You okay?” 

Yeosang hesitated. He wasn’t really shaken by being bumped into, he just didn’t know how to explain the way his chest felt tight but light at the same time. “Um, yeah,” he said after a moment. “I think so.”

Mingi studied him for a second, something thoughtful crossing his face. “If it gets too much, we could step outside. Get some air.” 

Yeosang glanced back toward the stage, Jongho’s voice slowing into the final notes. He turned back to Mingi. “Okay.” 

The air outside was colder now, and the sky had shifted from a hazy gray to midnight black. A few people still lingered at the front of The Black Cat, but Mingi kept walking, and Yeosang continued to follow him.

They rounded the corner to a cramped alleyway, no one else was around. Just the two of them. Yeosang shoved his hands into his pockets, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was alone with Mingi, and also really fucking cold.  For a moment, neither of them spoke. Mingi broke the silence with a small laugh. “Uh, I kind of needed a smoke too.” 

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, placing them both on a crate beside him. Yeosang watched silently as he shrugged his jacket off, holding the oversized article out to him.

“You look cold. Sorry.” He muttered. 

Yeosang stared for a moment before reluctantly taking the jacket. “Oh, thank you.” He put the jacket on, relishing in the warmth it provided, but also, the buzzing in his skin only worsened.

Is this how it would feel to be hugged by Mingi? 

Yeosang silently cursed himself and took a deep breath, hoping it would calm whatever was going on in his mind. But it only fueled it more. Cedar and a soft hint of smoke filled his lungs, it smelled good. It smelled like Mingi. He looked down at the jacket, subtly bringing the oversized sleeve up to his nose, he pretended to simply wipe at his face to get another trace of the smell. He sighed, feeling an odd mix of confusion and comfort. 

If Mingi noticed, he didn’t say anything as he brought the cigarette up to his mouth and lit it. 

They stood side by side in silence, their arms brushing against each other slightly. The wind howled around them. Yeosang glanced over to Mingi, who looked unaffected. Smoke began to curl from the cigarette in Yeosang’s direction, and he let out a small cough, scrunching his nose.

Mingi glanced down at him, furrowing his brows. “Sorry.” 

“Ah, it’s cool-” Yeosang started. What was he even saying? Only a few hours ago, he was just yelling at Wooyoung for smoking.

“Nah, I don’t need it that bad.” Mingi quickly interjected, sliding the lighter into the pocket of his jeans as he flicked the cigarette onto the ground.

Yeosang nodded. “Ok, thanks…”

Another quiet moment passed.

Yeosang thought to himself. How was this the same guy who was just on stage, rapping like a madman and winking at the screaming girls in the crowd? How was he here with Yeosang, side by side, looking awkward, unsure, soft? 

Mingi cut through the silence again. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Yeosang replied, “I’m just…bad at this.”

Mingi laughed softly, kicking a rock on the pavement. “Same, actually. I’m better when there’s a mic involved.”

Yeosang smiled and looked over to Mingi, who was already staring back at him.

“After this, we were all gonna head over to San’s place,” Mingi started. “I think Yunho was gonna go too. We live together.” He added with an awkward tone to his voice.

Yeosang pressed his lips into a straight line, attempting to understand. “Oh, okay?”

Mingi sighed, looking away from Yeosang as he brought his hand to the back of his neck. “I mean, just, if you don’t want to go back in,” he let out another sigh, “we could go somewhere else.”

“Oh.”

Yeosang had been told more than once that he… took his time connecting the dots. But it didn’t take much longer for him to understand what Mingi was trying to say. 

Yunho would be at San’s. Empty apartment.

Yeosang hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, that sounds better than yelling over music.”

Mingi smiled and took a deep breath, his relief obvious. “Cool. Yeah, let’s go.”

They stepped out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, Yeosang falling a step behind Mingi. Now that Mingi didn’t have his jacket on, he found himself noticing things he maybe shouldn’t.

Mingi’s shoulders were broad, and he held them back with an easy confidence that matched his stage persona, but not the man who stood beside him in the alley. His eyes traveled lower over the way his frame narrowed at the waist before flaring out at his hips and thighs.

It was…distracting.

Of course, Yeosang knew what the implication of being invited back to Mingi’s apartment was, but the closer they got to their destination, nerves started to build up. Yeosang looked away from Mingi and decided to focus on their footsteps, the steady rhythm of it, really anything to keep his mind from spiraling.

Then Mingi stopped, Yeosang almost bumping into his back.

“This is us.” He muttered, still walking towards the glass doors of the apartment complex.

They walked past the front desk and into the elevator, hands brushing as they once again stood beside each other.

He followed Mingi down the hall and watched as Mingi unlocked the door, holding it open as he ushered Yeosang inside.

The apartment was dim, a small lamp in the entryway gave off a faint glow. It smelled clean, like citrus and fresh laundry. 

“Nice place…” Yeosang said softly, as he slipped his shoes off, still standing in the entryway.

“That’s all, Yunho. If it were just me, this place would be a pig sty.” Mingi laughed as he entered the space, placing his shoes next to Yeosang’s.

Mingi slid past him, the tight hallway causing them to brush a bit closer together. He made his way around the corner and into the kitchen. “You want some water, or something…?” He shouted.

Yeosang took a deep breath as he made his way down the hall. “Yeah, sure.”

Mingi moved around easily. “Sorry, we don’t really have much else.” He said, filling a glass with water before handing it to Yeosang. Their fingers brushed for half a second too long. Yeosang pretended not to notice as he took the glass and sat on one of the barstools. 

“So,” Mingi started, standing on the opposite side of the island. “Wooyoung talks about you a lot.”

Yeosang nearly choked on his drink. “D-does he?”

“Yeah,” Mingi laughed. “I mean, not in a weird way. Just…” he shrugged. “You come up. I was surprised to see you tonight.”

Yeosang shook his head, embarrassed. “That sounds like him, always oversharing.” 

Mingi hummed. “Says you’re really smart, talented.” 

Yeosang stares into his glass, his cheeks starting to heat up. “I don’t know about that.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think you are?”

“I mean...I try. It’s just hard when you’re staring at a blank canvas, and everything feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” Mingi nodded, crossing his arms.

Yeosang looked up, into Mingi’s sharp eyes. “Do you?”

Mingi shrugged. “Well y’know, performing arts. Everyone sees the final thing and thinks it just…happens. But there’s a lot that goes into it.”

Yeosang smiled, his mind drifting back to Mingi’s performance. “Exactly.” 

He hesitated before sighing. “I have this final coming up. It’s really important, vague prompt though. I’ve just been stuck on what to do.”

Mingi listened, his gaze steady. “So that’s why Wooyoung dragged you out, huh?” 

Yeosang laughed softly, tracing the rim of his glass as he remembered the events leading up to going to the club. “Pretty much. Told me I needed to relax, get my creative juices flowing.”

Mingi’s eyes sharpened as he continued looking at Yeosang. “Hmm.”

Yeosang looked up at him, their eyes meeting. Something unreadable flickered across Mingi’s face. The air shifted as Mingi rounded the counter, now standing next to Yeosang. “Did it work?”

Yeosang steadied his gaze on him, confused.

Mingi’s plump lips curved into a slow smirk. “Did the show help relax you?”

Heat crept up Yeosang’s neck as Mingi placed a large hand on the countertop. Yeosang looked away, suddenly aware of how close they were. 

“I, I don’t know,” he muttered.

“Guess I’ll just have to try a little harder then.” 

Yeosang turned his head to look at Mingi again, but stopped as he felt a hand settle on his jaw.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Yeosang swallowed. The room felt still, like everything was waiting on him. He didn’t say anything and instead leaned in. Mingi’s breath hitched before he closed the distance. The kiss was slow, like he was giving Yeosang one last chance to pull away.

Yeosang decided to just say fuck it and brought his hands to Mingi’s shirt, his fingers curling into the fabric. Mingi groaned as he pulled away, looking into Yeosang’s eyes before grabbing his arm and pulling him down the hall.

Yeosang bit his lip as he was guided into the room, his back meeting the door as Mingi spun them around.

Mingi caged his hands on either side of Yeosang’s face. “So fucking pretty,” he muttered as he brought his lips to Yeosang’s neck. “Wonder if the sounds you make would sound just as beautiful.”

Yeosang groaned, his deep voice filling the room. He brought his hands to Mingi’s waist, feeling under his shirt. 

Mingi pulled back, dropping his arms to his side. “Take what you want.” He smirked.

Yeosang hesitated before tugging at Mingi’s shirt. Taking the hint, Mingi pulled it off. Yeosang allowed his eyes to roam over the expanse of his tanned skin, his abs, his plump chest.

Before he could think to stop himself, Yeosang leaned down and began to lick at Mingi’s nipple, drawing a groan from the other man.

“Fuck, just like that.” Mingi sighed, brushing Yeosang’s hair out of his face as he gazed at him with low eyes. Mingi threw his head back as Yeosang’s tongue swirled around the bud.

Mingi tugged at Yeosang’s hair, causing him to separate himself with a ‘pop’ as he gazed up at the taller man. Mingi held eye contact as he let out a heavy breath, undoing the belt to his pants and letting them fall to the ground. 

“I wanna help you relax, Yeosang.” He said, his voice even deeper than before. “Will you let me?”

Yeosang nodded, he wanted nothing more at this point. He melted into the hand that was now on his cheek, ready to let go.

Mingi laced their hands together and walked over to his bed, laying Yeosang down on the black comforter. Mingi stood over him, his briefs tight and showing the outline of his heavy length. Yeosang propped himself up on his forearms as he watched Mingi slowly unbutton his jeans. Mingi glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow for permission. 

Yeosang let out a breathy, “Please…”

Mingi grinned, resting his fingertips on the waistband. “Please, what?” He murmured.

“Just…Don’t stop.” Yeosang whispered. “I want this. I want you.” His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were half lidded.

Mingi nodded silently, letting his fingers linger for a moment before shifting to undo Yeosang’s zipper. He slowly eased his pants down, his gaze sharpened as Yeosang’s legs were revealed. His milky white skin was cut with muscle, each flexing beneath Mingi’s touch in anticipation.

A faint blush began to bloom on Yeosang’s nape the longer Mingi stared at him. His eyes were hungry, taking Yeosang in. 

Mingi’s broad hands slid over Yeosang’s clothed chest, slow and deliberate, his thumbs brushing back and forth as he moved to straddle him. “Wanna see all of you…” He murmured, half to himself, like he was thinking out loud. 

Yeosang bit his lip, his breath caught as Mingi grazed over a sensitive spot. He instinctively lifted his arms over his head, giving Mingi access to do as he pleased. Mingi wasted no time, tugging Yeosang’s shirt off. He leaned down into Yeosang’s neck, still hovering in his lap, and pressed warm kisses along Yeosang’s jaw and down towards his collarbone. 

Yeosang could feel himself growing hard under Mingi’s weight. His cock strained against his briefs, a tent forming against Mingi’s ass. He could feel Mingi smile against his neck as he began to roll his hips in slow, filthy circles. He slid back so that the tip of Yeosang’s length rubbed along his clothed entrance.

“So cute, Sangie…” Mingi moaned breathlessly, nibbling at Yeosang’s ear.  “Fuck, thinking about you inside me…”

Yeosang groaned, his hands fisting the sheets as Mingi continued his movements.

“Not tonight though, shit. I need to fuck you tonight.” Mingi drew himself back from Yeosang’s ear, smirking faintly even as his voice cracked with want, bringing their faces closer together.

Yeosang closed the distance, his lips crashing into Mingi’s. He moaned into Mingi’s mouth as Mingi took control, his plush lips devouring his. His tongue swiped against Yeosang’s lower lip, coaxing it open before slipping it in with hot, demanding strokes. 

Mingi laced his fingers into Yeosang’s hair and tilted his head back, opening his throat so that his thick tongue could fuck in deeper, claiming every inch.

He pulled back with a slick ‘pop’. Yeosang’s mouth hung open, panting and desperate, his eyebrows furrowed with want. Mingi’s thumb settled on his now swollen lower lip and pulled, forcing his jaw wider. Yeosang obeyed, tongue slipping out slowly, pink and wet.  

Mingi showed a feral grin as he dove back in, sucking Yeosang’s tongue hard enough to make him whimper as his hand dragged down Yeosang’s stomach. His long fingers stroked up and down, causing Yeosang to twitch under him.

Mingi pulled back again, bringing another finger to Yeosang’s mouth. This time, he pushed it in, pressing it down against Yeosang’s tongue.

“Gotta get you ready for me,” he exhaled, watching Yeosang twitch as he added another.

Yeosang let out a filthy, muffled moan around Mingi’s fingers. His eyes rolled back as the long digits pushed deeper into his mouth. He could feel Mingi’s cock resting on his stomach, heavy and thick. Mingi was now rocking back and forth, rubbing his length on the expanse of Yeosang’s abdomen. He shivered from the feeling of the wet patch of pre cum on Mingi’s briefs as he rutted against him. 

Mingi’s fingers dove deeper, curling down at the back of Yeosang’s throat and drawing a wet gag out of the older man. The sound was obscene, his throat pulsed at the intrusion, but Ming didn’t stop fucking his thick fingers in and out. 

Yeosang squeezed his eyes shut as tears began to form, spilling over and down his flushed cheeks. The buzz under his skin intensified. The sensation spread up his spine and made his mind blur, his thoughts fuzzy. 

He felt completely undone as drool spilled from the corners of his mouth, his body reacted before his mind could catch up. He leaned into the haze, his lips sealing tight and his tongue curled around Mingi’s knuckles as he started to suck them.

A rough curse was pulled from the other man. Mingi’s cock jerked hard against Yeosang’s skin, leaving another smear of pre cum. He pulled his fingers out with a slow drag, then hauled Yeosang up until his back hit the pillows.

Mingi inched forward, his knees now on either side of Yeosang’s chest as he stood up, looking down at Yeosang with uneven breaths. He curled his fingers on the waistband of his briefs, slowly pulling them down to reveal his full length.

Mingi’s cock stood long between them, so close that every detail was unavoidable. The way it gently curved upward, the vein that ran from the base to the swollen tip, the way the whole length twitched with each of Yeosang’s uneven breaths. 

Mingi lifted a brow, his gaze heavy. Yeosang nodded as his mouth lulled open, ready for whatever the taller was planning to give him. 

Mingi lined his heavy length up and placed it on Yeosang’s tongue, slapping it softly with a low chuckle. Yeosang could taste the pre cum that had gathered at the slit. He squeezed his fingers in restraint to not surge forward and attempt to take his full length then and there. He moved his tongue around the tip, circling the large intrusion with fast licks. He eventually settled his tongue in the slit, stroking it with the wet muscle and lapping up the pre cum.

Mingi groaned, hunching forward as he placed his hand on the headboard to steady himself. “Holy shit, Yeosang.”

Yeosang continued, returning his focus to the rest of the tip, suckling it instead of licking now, savoring the salty taste of the man’s cum as it hit his taste buds. He looked up at Mingi, who was staring down at him with a heavy gaze.

Mingi reached down to Yeosang’s golden locks, brushing his fingers through them roughly to push the strands back. Mingi’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the older man. His eyes were glassy with tears, his cheeks were flushed a deep red, and his lips were swollen and shiny. 

Their gazes locked, a silent conversation understanding passed between them. Yeosang nodded softly.

Mingi cupped Yeosang’s face with both hands, his thumbs settled on his jaw to hold him in place. “Tap me if it’s too much,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, and slid the tip of his cock out of Yeosang’s mouth.

“Okay,” Yeosang whispered, chest rising and falling rapidly as he took a deep breath before dropping his jaw open.

With no warning, Mingi gripped the base of his dick and shoved back in, the thick head hitting the back of Yeosang’s throat with the first thrust. 

Yeosang screwed his eyes shut, forcing the new tears that had begun to form to start streaming down his face.

“That’s it, baby, open up for me. Let me fuck this pretty throat.” Mingi moaned, rolling his hips in slow, punishing grinds that made the bulge in Yeosang’s neck stand out. “Look so fucking good taking me like this. Taking every inch like this mouth was made for it…” 

With each thrust, Yeosang’s mind began to blur at the edges, fading into a haze. The only thing he could think about was Mingi standing above him, the perfect length filling him over and over. He felt so cherished in the moment, being used by Mingi so completely. It felt…right.

It sent a warm feeling through his body, allowing him to let go of everything else. All that seemed to matter was the shared pleasure and the rough praises. 

Mingi’s hips snapped harder, his pace turning sloppy as his mouth fell slack, low, broken moans spilling out with every thrust. 

“So close,” Mingi panted, his voice cracking as he tightened his fingers in Yeosang’s hair to keep him steady. “Gonna…come down your throat, baby, fuck. Swallow every drop for me.”

Yeosang hollowed his cheeks as he forcefully swallowed, coaxing the orgasm out of the other man. 

Mingi’s thrusts grew even more erratic, fucking Yeosang’s face with short, desperate movements.  “So good for me, Yeosang. Gonna-” He broke off with a choked groan, burying himself to the hilt as he came. His cock pulsed hard, flooding Yeosang’s throat with thick spurts. He held still inside of Yeosang’s mouth, shuddering through the aftershocks.

Yeosang swallowed what he could, the rest dripping out of his mouth as Mingi slowly pulled back. Yeosang gasped, coughing once at the raw feeling of his throat.

Mingi’s chest heaved, his thick thighs trembled slightly as he slid down to once again straddle Yeosang’s hips. “Look at you,” he sighed. “Did so good for me.” 

Before Yeosang could respond, Mingi crashed their mouths together. He licked into the kiss, tasting himself on Yeosang’s tongue. Yeosang went pliant under Mingi’s weight, humming quietly as he melted into the possessive kiss.

Mingi broke away, bringing his forehead to rest against Yeosang’s. They stared at each other for a moment, heavy breaths mingling before Yeosang let out a hiss.

“Mingi…” He moaned, biting his lip at the sudden pressure against his aching cock. Mingi rocked his hips slowly, maintaining eye contact.

“Did you think I forgot about this?” Mingi asked, his voice low and sly as he slinked down Yeosang’s body, settling flat on his stomach between his spread thighs. His broad shoulders pushed Yeosang’s legs wider, eyes dark with intent. “Let’s get your juices flowing.”

Yeosang let out a short breathless laugh at the man's words, then gasped sharply as cold air hit his sweaty skin. Mingi yanked his briefs down in one rough tug, throwing the fabric over his shoulder. Yeosang’s cock sprung free, flushed and hard, a few droplets of pre cum landed on Mingi’s face. Mingi didn’t flinch, instead he licked his lips, slowly tasting it.

“How are you pretty down here too?” 

“Oh my god…” Yeosang groaned, his hands flying up to cover his face, embarrassed but equally as turned on.

Mingi sharpened his gaze. “Don’t hide yourself,” he gruffed, his voice dropping into a commanding tone that made Yeosang’s stomach flip. “Let me see you.”

Reluctantly, Yeosang lowered his hands. For the first time since they hit the bed, he really took Mingi in. Mingi’s face was inches from his cock, his face was flushed, and his lips were swollen. 

A small smirk widened on Mingi’s face, and without another word, he leaned in and took Yeosang to the hilt in one smooth motion. His sharp nose pressed against the trimmed hair around the base of Yeosang’s cock, his throat relaxed around the full length.

Yeosang wasn’t huge, but he wasn’t small either. The fact that Mingi could take him all the way down sent a wave of pleasure through him. Mingi held himself down for a few seconds, his tongue swirling around the base, before pulling off slowly, only to plunge back down.

The pace was relentless, pornographic slurps filled the room as Mingi bobbed his head, his throat working every inch. Yeosang threw his head back against the pillows, a loud “Fuck!” tore from his throat. Mingi focused on the tip, bobbing shallow and licking around the head as he wrapped his rough hand around the rest of the length, stroking in tight pulls while his tongue flicked back and forth in time with every stroke.

“Mingi, oh shit, feels so good…” Yeosang moaned, bucking his hips instinctively.

Mingi hummed around him, the vibrations rumbling through Yeosang’s cock, making his toes curl and his back arch off of the bed. His mind returned to that dreamy haze, no need to think, just needed to chase the pleasure that Mingi was giving.

Mingi pulled off of his cock just long enough to mutter, “You taste so good, gonna make you come down my throat. Let go for me.” Then he dove back in, this time faster, sucking at the length and swiping over the slit to spread more pre cum. He brought a large hand to Yeosang’s thigh, caressing it and inching it closer to his entrance, and used his other hand to hold Yeosang’s legs open.

Yeosang shallowly thrusted up into Mingi’s mouth, lost in the wet heat, unaware of the finger pushing against his entrance until it popped inside.

“Mmm-!” Yeosang squealed, high and broken, his hole fluttered hard around the intrusion. The suction around his cock and the slow stretch below made him loosen slightly.

Mingi let out another satisfied hum as he eased a second finger in. The stretch with the added finger was more noticeable. Mingi’s thick fingers thrusted in time with his mouth, all the way to the knuckle. 

Pre cum leaked from Yeosang’s cock steadily and dribbled down, slicking Mingi’s finger to help the glide. 

“So tight…” Mingi whispered to himself as he pulled off of Yeosang’s cock and slipped his fingers free. Yeosang looked down at him, his eyes glazed over, letting out a needy whine. 

“Need to open you up down here, too,” Mingi murmured,  eyes soft but dark with intent.

Yeosang nodded, not even really hearing what the other man said.

Mingi grinned, then returned his gaze to the other man’s hole. Yeosang’s hole glistened with pre cum, puckering sweetly. He dragged his tongue in one long stripe from the entrance to the tip of the older man’s cock. 

“M-Mingi!” Yeosang groaned, gripping his hands into Mingi’s hair.

Mingi licked back down, circling the rim before pushing his tongue inside. Slow, intentional thrusts that made Yeosang tremble. Mingi spat messily at the ring of muscles before fucking his tongue in deeper, his hand stroking Yeosang’s cock in sync. Mingi gripped Yeosang’s thigh, keeping him in place as he continued to lap at Yeosang’s hole.

“Oh god- Mingi, I’m-” Yeosang’s voice broke off into a moan.

Mingi pulled back briefly. “Do you think you can cum again for me tonight?” 

Yeosang nodded his head fervently, causing Mingi to thrust his tongue back inside, his fingers following, and he continued the strokes on his cock. Mingi slammed his thick digits back and forth, curling right against a sensitive spot.

Yeosang’s eyes rolled back, a wrecked groan spilling out. 

Mingi huffed before he pulled his fingers out and then slammed them back in, making sure to brush the same spot again.

“There- Fuck! Right there!” 

Mingi kept going out and in relentlessly until the heat that had begun to pool in Yeosang’s stomach coiled and shattered. Yeosang came hard, his vision going white, cum painting his stomach as Mingi fucked him through every pulse. 

He thrashed, gasping and oversensitive, “Min-Mingi, just came- too much-!” 

Mingi didn’t stop, his fingers thrusted out, and his tongue thrusted in. Yeosang screamed, his voice cracked as another weak spurt shot out of his cock. 

Mingi finally pulled his tongue and fingers free, his breath ragged as he stared at the pulsing hole. Yeosang instinctively closed his legs, feeling shy. Mingi simply glanced up at him with an intense stare, forcing him to pull his legs apart again. 

Mingi reached over to his bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a pack of condoms. He ripped the wrapper open with his teeth and let out a hiss as he rolled it onto his cock.

Yeosang watched in awe as the taller man grabbed his legs and hooked them over his shoulder. The way Mingi’s biceps flexed throughout the movement, the way he maneuvered him like it was nothing. 

Mingi pressed forward, folding the older man in half. Yeosang’s breath hitched as he felt the blunt head of Mingi’s cock press at his entrance.

Mingi didn’t wait any longer as he pressed in slowly, the thick tip popping past the rim.

Yeosang’s back arched hard. The stretch was nothing compared to the other man's fingers, and it was only the tip. 

“Ah-!” Yeosang moaned as the stretch burned further. He could feel himself opening for Mingi, his walls fluttering around his length as he sank in deeper.

Mingi’s hips stuttered, and he let out a groan, leaning towards Yeosang and leaving wet kisses on his neck. “Need you to relax for me, still so tight.” 

Yeosang looked down at where they were connected, and his eyes widened. He felt so full, but Mingi was only halfway inside. Mingi splayed a large hand to Yeosang’s stomach, pressing down and drawing a wrecked moan from the older man.

“I’m right here,” he said as he moved his hand a bit higher. “But I need to get deeper. Open up for me, Yeosang.” He pressed his hand down again, sucking at Yeosang’s neck.

Yeosang felt his cock harden, his mind going even hazier at the sight and feeling of Mingi trying to get deeper inside of him.

Mingi pulled out slowly before pushing back in, stopping at the same spot as before. He continued this slowly, thrusting out and back inside, massaging Yeosang’s walls open. All Yeosang could do was watch with his jaw slack. Small whimpers fell out as Mingi picked up his pace, still sucking at his neck.

It was good. So good. 

But the knowledge that Mingi could be giving him more sent shivers down Yeosang’s spine.

“P-please, just go d-deeper. Fuck me deeper.” He pleaded, desperate for the man's full length. 

Mingi paused before pulling out completely, searching Yeosang’s face for any hesitation. There was none, all he found was a man fucked out of his mind. He left one last kiss on Yeosang's neck, trailing it up to the man's lips, and then slammed all the way inside. 

They both moaned loudly. Yeosang’s hands scrambled to Mingi’s back, nails digging in. He felt gone, reveling in the feeling of being filled by Mingi. Just Mingi.

“Fuck-” Mingi rasped as he held himself flush with the other man, allowing him to feel every inch, his head thrown back. 

After a moment, he started a slow grind, looking down at where they joined. The way Yeosang’s cock now stood fully erect, the way the other man’s abs flexed with each thrust.

Mingi groaned low, his forehead dropping to Yeosang's shoulder. “Fuck… feel that? How deep I am?” 

Yeosang nodded. He was dazed, in bliss at how Mingi’s weight pinned him down, the way his cock dragged over every sensitive fold. Mingi’s slow thrusts had built up to a steady pace. He moaned straight into Yeosang’s ear as he bit his lip, done holding back.

He pulled out completely and then slammed all the way to the hilt. His sharp eyes stared straight into Yeosang’s, and his stomach fluttered at the older man’s moans. “So fucking pretty,” he mused as he laid his hand on Yeosang’s neck, caressing the skin. Yeosang brought a hand on top of Mingi’s, applying pressure. His hips stuttered as he followed suit, tightening his grip around the other man's neck. Yeosang gasped as his nails returned to Mingi’s back, clawing at the expanse of his skin.

Mingi’s thrusts grew erratic, kissing the back of Yeosang’s hole with each thrust. 

Yeosang panted, his head lulled to the side as he took the brutal pace, his cock bobbing with each slam. Mingi was doing no better. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he could feel himself getting closer with each movement, the way Yeosang tightened as he dragged his cock back and forth. 

Mingi tightened his grip around Yeosang’s neck, nipping at his ear as he whispered filth into it.

“Want you to come on my cock.”

“Taking it like such a good boy.”

“Do you feel how I’m splitting you open?”

Yeosang responded in grunts, moans, whines. He wanted to speak, to tell Mingi exactly how he was feeling, but he couldn’t. Especially not when the other man wrapped a hand around his cock. Yeosang tightened immediately, screaming out from the dual pleasure. It was too much, and Mingi knew it.

“Give it to me, Yeosang…” Mingi whispered in a soft tone.

Yeosang thrashed as Mingi continued pummeling and pumping him, the familiar coil began to burn.

“Give it to me,” Mingi repeated, his voice low and gravely. Demanding.

Yeosang could do nothing but obey. His toes curled as Mingi pushed in again, forcing the orgasm out of him. His vision blurred as Mingi continued to tighten his grip around his neck, fucking him through the high of his orgasm. White ropes landed on his chest, and his face, and his body went limp.

But Mingi didn’t stop, now chasing his own finish. Yeosang watched as Mingi groaned above him. He looked beautiful like this, lost in his heat and using him for his pleasure.

“Y-Yeosang-” Mingi sighed as he rutted into the smaller man. “Yeosang…”

Mingi gripped Yeosang’s ass, driving them closer together before flipping the man around. He pushed his hand down onto Yeosang’s back, forcing him to arch deeper while he gripped onto his hips.

The sound of skin on skin, panting, moans, and a loud “smack” filled the room.

“MMPH!” Yeosang shouted into the pillow, the sting of Mingi’s hand on his ass sending jolts through him.

Mingi leaned forward, kissing Yeosang’s shoulder blade before he brought his hand down onto his ass again, this time soothing the skin before pulling his cheeks apart to slide in even deeper. 

“F-Fuck, Mingi-!” Yeosang groaned, drooling on the pillowcase below him.

“Taking it so fucking good,” Mingi rasped as he moved to mount the other man, pushing all of his weight onto him as he pile drove him into the mattress. “G-Gonna-” He moaned, high pitched.

Yeosang turned his head to glance at the taller man, eyes glazed over with lust. “Take the…take the condom off,” he gasped, cut off by a particularly rough thrust. “Wanna feel you fill me.” 

Mingi paused before pulling out, quickly taking the condom off, and sliding back inside. 

It felt different, but so right. Without the condom, Yeosang could feel every vein pulse inside of him. He could feel the way Mingi would leak with every slight movement.

“That what you want? To be fucked full?” Mingi asked, gripping Yeosang’s jaw to force him to hold eye contact as he leaned over his shoulder.

Yeosang nodded feverishly and moaned lewdly as Mingi resumed his quick pace, pulling out to the tip and driving as deep as he could go.

“Then I guess that’s what I have to give you, hm?” 

Yeosang tightened instinctively, coaxing a needy moan from Mingi. His thrusts faltered, erratic and deep, until he pushed inside and buried himself as far inside as he could with a guttural groan. 

Mingi’s cock pulsed hot inside Yeosang. He whined and panted as he continued to thrust shallow, painting Yeosang’s walls white.

Yeosang’s body jolted with pleasure, his body trembled, and a moan broke from his lips. He gasped as he finished, realizing nothing had come out. Mingi reached around to his sensitive, now soft cock, stroking it as he was still settled inside of him. “So fucking hot…” He said breathlessly. 

Yeosang laid underneath him, feeling boneless and, most of all, satisfied.

Mingi moved to pull out from Yeosang’s now leaking hole, but was stopped by Yeosang twisting around, letting out a soft whine as he grasped Mingi’s arm.

“Wanna stay like this…” he sighed before plopping back down into the pillows, feeling content with the warmth inside of him.

Mingi stared down at Yeosang, the way his eyes had grown heavy, the way his breathing had begun to even out. 

“…Okay.” He sighed, a small smirk growing as he moved to lay beside Yeosang, his arm wrapping around the other man's waist, still connected.

Sunlight filtered through the half drawn curtains, golden stripes across the bed.

Yeosang opened his eyes slowly, his body heavy, and every muscle reminded him of last night’s events. A dull but pleasant ache lingered between his thighs, his hips, even the back of his throat. But his skin no longer felt hot and sticky with sweat, it felt clean and cool. The room also no longer smelled like sex, but instead the citrusy smell he caught when he first entered the apartment.

He shifted and flinched at the sudden brush of air against his neck.

Mingi was pressed against his back, still fast asleep with his arm still draped over Yeosang’s waist. They were no longer connected, and Yeosang realized he was dressed. Baggy cotton shorts hugged his waist, and judging by the faint smell of cologne, he had on Mingi’s oversized t-shirt. 

A soft smile curved on Yeosang’s lips at the thought of Mingi taking care of him while he was asleep. Wiping him down gently, dressing him, and even straightening the room up. It made something warm bloom in his chest.

He twisted carefully to fully face Mingi. He was softened by sleep. His sharp, intense eyes were hidden behind long lashes. His plump lips were slightly parted, exhaling slow breaths. A small beauty mark sat low on his left cheek, something Yeosang hadn’t noticed in the dark, hazy blur of last night. 

Yeosang reached out without thinking, his fingertip brushing the mark lightly, like it was something precious. His mind flickered to the memories of last night. The Mingi on stage, charismatic and intense. The Mingi that had taken him to bed was rough and overwhelming. And now this Mingi, who was soft and warm, laid against him.

He shook his head quickly, cheeks heating, trying to push the memories aside before they escalated. 

Mingi’s lashes fluttered, and his breath caught before his dark eyes opened, sleepy and unfocused, locking onto Yeosang’s

Yeosang quickly yanked his hand back. “Oh, sorry…”

Mingi just stared at him, his face breaking into a lazy grin as he propped himself onto his arms. “Morning.”

His voice was even deeper than last night, gravely from sleep. It made Yeosang’s stomach flip.

“Morning,” he managed to whisper.

A comfortable silence washed over them, their gazes lingering. 

Yeosang swallowed. “Um, thanks for…cleaning me up. And the clothes.”

Mingi shook his head, fluffy strands of white hair falling into his face. “Don’t thank me.” He lifted a hand to Yeosang’s hair, fingers threading gently through the blond locks. “You okay?”

Yeosang nodded, cheeks warm again. “Yeah, more than okay. You?”

Mingi let out a low laugh. “Me too.” He looked away from Yeosang, now sitting up directly against the headboard. Yeosang mirrored his movements, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

After a moment, Mingi cleared his throat. “So… I don’t know how you feel about last night, but…” He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, suddenly looking unsure. “I liked it. A lot. And I, um, I’d like to keep seeing you. If you… If that’s cool with you. Get to know you more, outside of…all that.” His voice trailed off, and his eyes dropped down to the blanket that covered the both of them. 

Yeosang stared at the way his ears went pink, and how he couldn’t meet his eyes. A soft laugh bubbled out of him before he could stop it.

Mingi’s head snapped up, brows furrowed. “What?” 

“You’re cute when you’re nervous…” Yeosang replied quietly, showing a shy smile. “I’d like that too.”

They held eye contact for a moment before Mingi’s pout melted into a bright grin. He leaned in, pressing their lips together in a soft kiss.

“Good,” he murmured when he pulled away. “I wasn’t planning on letting you go…”

Yeosang sighed as he made it back to his apartment, leaning against the door, replaying the morning he had spent with Mingi.

Mingi had offered to make him breakfast, and Yeosang had said yes before his brain could catch up. He sat on the barstool in Mingi’s oversized t-shirt and cursed himself for admiring the way Mingi’s broad shoulders moved under the black tank top he had thrown on. They talked about anything, the stupid nicknames their friends used with them, their class schedules, and he even shared with Mingi the story of how he met Wooyoung.

When the food was ready, Mingi sat on the stool next to him, their knees brushing under the countertop. Loaded glances were shared between bites. A quick kiss was stolen when Yeosang reached for the syrup. 

It made Yeosang feel warm. Alive? It gave him a feeling that he didn’t know he was missing. Now, standing alone in his entryway with Mingi’s cologne still clinging to the borrowed shirt, he finally understood.

Paint what moves you.

He stepped over Wooyoung’s abandoned shoes that were thrown lazily in the hallway, quickly making his way to his room. He ignored the loud snores that leaked from his roommate’s open door, plopping down onto his stool. 

He stared at the canvas, the same canvas that seemed to mock him only the night before, now seemed to be waiting for him.

His hands moved on their own against the surface, filling the stark white with color. A deep purple and red for the lights on the stage, a warm peach for the blush on Mingi’s cheeks when he admitted to wanting to get to know him. 

His quick strokes mimicked the buzz that was under his skin when he first saw Mingi, almost electric. He blended the colors softly for the sweet, crooked smile that Mingi had shown. He layered color over color, his brush moving until the canvas finally stopped feeling empty. 

When he leaned back, he stared at the lights, the stage, the crowd, and Mingi at the center of it all.

3 Months Later

“Yeosang! C’mon, doesn’t the exhibit open soon?” Wooyoung shouted, his shrill voice carrying through the closed door.

“Yeah! I’m almost ready,” Yeosang called back, adjusting the collar of his cream colored sweater and smoothing down his freshly dyed red hair.

When he stepped out of the room, Wooyoung’s face immediately lit up. He pulled Yeosang into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, Sangie.”

They left the apartment hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing as they walked. About how bright the sun felt, and how the way the birds seemed to be chirping extra loudly.

When they turned the corner, the local art museum came into view. The building stretched three stories high, filled with some of the best work of local artists. And now Yeosang’s own work would be inside, too.

They walked closer, still holding hands, until a familiar group of figures came into view near a row of benches.

“There he is, the man of the hour!” San shouted, pulling Yeosang into a side hug.

“This is crazy, Yeo. I can’t wait to see it.” Yunho added, patting him on the back.

Jongho joined in too, smiling quietly beside them. 

“Thank you guys,” Yeosang said softly, cheeks warm. “It really means a lot that you’re here…” His eyes drifted past the group and landed on Mingi.

He stood a few feet away, holding a bouquet of red roses and a dopey smile on his face. In a few long steps, he was standing in front of Yeosang. 

The group took a few steps back as Mingi handed him the flowers.

“Congratulations, Sangie,” He whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Yeosang’s lips. Wooyoung squealed, and Yunho laughed fondly.

“Thank you,” Yeosang murmured, looking up at his boyfriend. Mingi’s hair was styled neatly out of his face, and he wore a black form fitting polo and slacks. “They’re beautiful.” He gestured to the flowers.

They intertwined their hands, following the others into the museum.

They moved through the gallery slowly. Yeosang explained techniques, materials, symbolism. Mingi listened intently, nodding along like he understood and asking quiet questions. Wooyoung occasionally glanced back at them with soft smiles.

Eventually, they reached the next room. A banner hung above the entrance, Winners of the 2026 Spring Art Competition.

Mingi’s grip tightened around Yeosang’s hand as they stepped inside. The room was long and narrow with moody lighting. They passed painting after painting until they reached the back wall.

Yeosang’s painting stood alone, centered and lit perfectly. When Mingi finally noticed it, his breath caught.

“Yeosang…is that-?” 

Yeosang didn’t answer, he just squeezed Mingi’s hand and rested his head against his shoulder. They stood in front of the painting, taking it in.

“It’s beautiful…” Wooyoung admired, standing off to the side.

“Hey, how’d you manage to make him look so good?” Yunho joked. 

“That’s what happens when you’re in love!” San shot back, lightly slapping Yunho on the arm.

Jongho sighed, shaking his head as he ushered the rowdy group away. “Hey, we’ll be waiting outside, congrats again.” Yeosang hummed, and Jongho left the couple on their own.

Mingi looked down at Yeosang, wide eyed and something else Yeosang couldn’t name. “Is it true…?”

Yeosang let out a soft laugh, glancing up at the taller man.

“Yes, Mingi. I love you.” 

Mingi leaned down, his plush lips locking onto Yeosang’s. “I love you, too.”

They broke away, and a warm silence bloomed between them. Their hands still intertwined, Yeosang’s head returned to rest on the other man’s shoulder.

Yeosang glanced at the plaque next to the artwork.

Artist: Kang Yeosang

Grade: Senior

Title: Muse

Silently, he looked back up to Mingi, who was still entranced by the canvas in front of him.

“My muse…” He whispered, the words meant only for the two of them.