“I cannot do this anymore. I cannot f*cking do this anymore! I’m quitting! I quit!”
Mingi stumbles aside quickly for the small, blonde bullet that’s rushing out the door. He watches with wide eyes as the man tears off the work apron around his waist, and with dramatics that he’s only seen in telenovelas, he throws it onto the sand dusted walkway and gives it a large stomp. The expletives leaving his mouth are enough to give a nun an aneurysm, and when their gazes connect, Mingi almost breaks his own damn neck to pretend he wasn’t just staring.
“Can I help you?” The angry gremlin growls at him, and there are a lot of things Mingi could use help with, honestly. He opens his mouth to reply but is quick to be cut off. “Actually, I don’t give a sh*t. I don’t work here anymore, remember?”
So Mingi closes his mouth, and it snaps shut with an audible clack of his teeth. There are many things he’s stupid enough to try, but a hot bottle blonde is not one of them.
“Wooyoung can you stop being a dramatic little bitch for like, five minutes, and come back inside? Table ten looks like they’re ready to order. That old woman won’t stop making direct eye contact with me while she fixes her dentures. It’s giving me the ick. Seriously.”
The voice sounds exasperated, and when Mingi turns back towards the opening of the small burger shack, there’s now a new man standing in the doorway. His long, dark hair is pulled back away from his face with a series of clips, and there’s a birthmark in the corner of his eye that almost looks like a heart. Fairy. Mingi’s brain not so helpfully supplies. He’s sure this is the most beautiful, ethereal looking man he’s ever seen in his life.
sh*t, maybe he’s been reading too much of his roommates' fairy p*rn books. It’s not his fault, okay? When was he going to be told there were five whole damn books to get through?
The angry gremlin—Wooyoung—gives a large huff, and it’s one that shakes his whole body. His eyebrows furrow, like he’s thinking, and even from here Mingi can see the steam coming out of his ears. Damn, this really must be serious. Maybe he should take it as a sign, turn around, and take his ass back home. Who needs to start a savings account anyway?
“f*ck. Fine, but I’m not taking table two anymore. If I have to hear another complaint about the f*cking ice cream machine being down I’ll kill everyone in the restaurant and then myself. Do you understand me? I’m so serious.”
Fairy Boy gives Mingi a look and his voice drops low as though he’s sharing a secret. Mingi finds himself leaning in curiously to be privy to it.
“He says this all the time. This is, like, his third time quitting today. Give him a seat at the Baeksang. I swear.”
“Yeah, totally.” Mingi says, nodding his head like he understands exactly what Fairy Boy means.
(He doesn’t. Not one bit.)
“I’m serious, Yeosang!” Wooyoung presses, quite seriously indeed, and he finally bends down to pick up the discarded apron. He shakes it out, pats off the sand, and ties it back around his small waist. “I don’t need this place. This place needs me, and I’m pretty enough to find a man to take care of me in prison!”
“You’re right, Woo. We would absolutely die without you.” Fairy Boy—Yeosang—holds the door to the restaurant open wider and sends Mingi a wink.
When Mingi sends one back it’s awkward, and both of his eyes basically fall shut at the same time. Goddamn, this is the place Mingi is supposed to start working at. This is the first impression he’s given. A man who winks with both eyes. A man who f*cking blinks.
Yeosang doesn’t laugh at him even though it looks like he really wants to, and for that Mingi is appreciative. He doesn’t think he could take a blow to his pride today and make it back home in one piece.
“Hey, dickhe*ds! You’ve got a damn job to do, remember?”
A new challenger appears. He’s hanging out of the small window that connects the front of the restaurant to the kitchen, and Mingi looks over Yeosang’s shoulder to get a better look. He’s nothing if not nosy.
The man looks younger, a little round in the cheeks, but the arms crossed atop of the sill weren’t anything to laugh at. God, what the hell? His biceps look like they could crush watermelons. They could definitely crush Mingi’s head if he really wanted to. Mingi kind of wants him to.
“And stop letting in all that hot air! It already feels like the devil’s asshole in the kitchen! f*cks sake!”
“Watch your f*cking language, Jongho!” Gizmo gripes as he pushes past Mingi and Yeosang to go back inside.
Oh, yeah. Right. Inside. Mingi was supposed to have an interview today. A job interview.
He clears his throat and motions to Yeosang with his arm. He even goes as far to bend down in a small bow. Because he’s, you know, polite, and apparently this is now an episode of Bridgerton. Mingi would really like the earth to open up and swallow him whole now, please. “After you.”
This time Yeosang does laugh, and he’s the kind of guy to do it with his whole face. Mingi’s pretty sure he just fell in love—shot through the damn heart—and Yeosang reaches out to give his lower back a pat as he corrals him into the burger shack after Wooyoung.
“Oh? And they say chivalry is dead.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Getting a summer job hadn’t originally been the plan. In fact, there were three (3!) things Mingi planned to do over his summer break.
- Sleep.
- Grief some villages in Minecraft.
- Jack off.
It was going to be the perfect ending to an otherwise devastating semester in college.
Okay, he was being a little dramatic. It hadn’t actually been that bad. Besides the fact that he got stuck with an eight am class he couldn’t drop out of…Or the fact that he slept in and missed one of his finals so now he has to retake the course…Or that one time he was f*cking a really hot guy at a party and ended up accidentally throwing up in his lap during a very enthusiastic blow j*b.
You know what? It actually had been a little devastating. That’s why now—summertime, baby—was going to be Lit™. In fact, it was actually going to be the absolute time of his f*cking life. Just the thought of being able to browse through pages on p*rnhub in peace made him squirm. No small ass dorm? No obnoxious roommate to interrupt his me time? Heaven.
“Duckie, do you have any plans for the summer?”
…Maybe just a nosy mother. sh*t.
No matter how hard he pretended she wasn’t there her round frame still blocked his view of the tv from his sunken spot on the couch. He tilted his head to the left. He tilted his head to the right. No luck. Mingi could hear, but not see, the woman crying over bug bites on the latest episode of Naked and Afraid. With a defeated sigh Mingi finally looked up at her.
She looked expectant. It was…unnerving to say the least.
So with great hesitance—Great. Big. Almost a little scared—Mingi finally responded. “...No?”
It seemed to be the right thing to say. Or the wrong thing to say. The worst thing to say, actually, because his mother smiled that smile and Mingi knew he made a mistake. He sat up quickly, and the chip crumbs that tumbled down his shirt and onto his lap went unnoticed. Mingi held the remote close to his chest like a rosary, and God did he pray.
“Mom, respectfully, don’t you dare. Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say. It’s summer!”
All she did was tilt her head with a sigh, and poked a finger into her cheek like she was thinking, but Mingi knew she hadn’t been thinking anything at all. That was the face of a woman who already made up her mind.
In other words? Mingi was f*cked. Not even in a good way, dammit. He was f*cked in a bad way.
“You’re getting to that age where you should start thinking about your future...”
“What? What? Mom, I’m already in college! I have been actively thinking about my future for the past four months!”
His defense had been weak. In fact it was as though his mother didn’t hear him at all. Mingi could cry real tears. Real, actual tears. At that point he wasn’t sure whether or not he had started crying already.
“While I was talking to a friend she said her friend had a son who worked at Illusion—”
“That burger diner by the shore? No shot, mom. Please do not do this to me. I’m vegan!”
Mingi was definitely not vegan, but it didn’t even matter. Mom continued on anyway like the ruthless and heartless woman she was.
“—And she told me they were hiring! I thought to myself "Wow! What a great idea! I’ll be able to get Mingi out of the house for the summer!” So I called, and they have open interviews on Friday!”
“Mom, this is actually so sick and twisted.” Mingi groaned as he ran his hands down his face in despair. “Do you really hate me that much? Am I that bad of a son?”
He watched in horror as she clapped her hands together just once. It was a sign. It was the sign. Mom made up her mind and that was that. A single tear slipped down Mingi’s cheek.
“Isn’t that just so exciting, Duckie?”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
So here he is. Here he is sitting in a stuffy office sweating his absolute ass off. The aircon seems to be broken, and the small fan circulating the hot air around the room looks as though it’s on its last leg. Even having the windows open doesn’t help. If anything it makes it worse. It makes the whole room smell like heat and sweat and the salt of the ocean.
Mingi picks idly at the flaking leather of the office chair, and purses his lips into a small pout as he waits for his new manager—sorry, Gyuwook—to find him an apron in an old, rusted metal cabinet. He really had hoped it wouldn’t even have gotten this far, but Mingi is pretty sure the interview was just a formality. This must have been the fastest he’s ever gotten a job.
“Yeah, okay. You’re hired.”
“...What? Just like that?”
“Yep. Just like that. You’re hired.”
"Uhm…Hooray?”
There’s not much grace as Gyuwook tosses the apron towards him. Mingi fumbles with the pass and ends up getting smacked in the face with it before it lands in his lap. With shaky hands and a weak will he picks it up to look at it. A cursed object. The final nail in his coffin.
Oh god. Oh god. This was real. Goodbye sleep. Goodbye Minecraft. Goodbye jerking it until his dick felt like it was going to fall off. Goodbye summer.
“One of those baby monsters out there will show you the ropes.” Gyuwook scratches lazily at his belly, and it’s obvious he’s completely unaware of Mingi’s internal turmoil. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. “It’s a pretty easy job, though. Take orders. Ring them in. Run them. Can’t really go wrong with much.”
“Uh—yes. Right. Ring orders. Run them in. Got it.”
There’s a moment of pause and Gyuwook’s expectant looking before Mingi realizes he’s supposed to stand. He scrambles out of the chair so fast his knee knocks against the desk. He curses with a wince and rubs the sore spot with his palm as he hobbles over to his manager’s side. Gyuwook looks far from impressed, but honestly? That might just be what he looks like all the time. RBF, but this time it’s Resting Bored Face.
“Right well…Good luck out there, kiddo.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Spending his Saturday afternoon wandering around a run down diner isn’t exactly what Mingi would prefer to be doing. In fact, he’s sure he’d rather be doing literally anything else.
“So this is…it? Does it always look like this or…?”
Yeosang gave his shoulder a small wack with the back of his hand. “It’s the aesthetic, Mingi. The aesthetic.”
Aesthetic. Right. Mingi looks around the small restaurant in confusion. There really wasn’t even that much to be shown.
When customers walk in they’re greeted with the counter so they can be seated. The kitchen is located directly behind it and only separated by a half wall. To the left there’s a dining room filled with old looking booths and a smattering of tables with chairs that don’t match. The wood floors creak with age every step you take, and the large windows that look onto the beach are worn from the sun.
Mingi doesn’t even know what aesthetic means, but surely it can’t mean this.
“And this is the dry storage! This is where you come if you have to cry. Or the walk in, but that’s usually reserved for Seonghwa’s Mental Breakdown Time™ when he’s working.”
“Seonghwa, right. Wait. Seonghwa?”
Yeosang waves Mingi’s question off with his hand. “You’ll meet him at some point. He doesn’t work today. Neither does San or Hongjoong. Lucky bastards got the night off.”
If there’s one good thing that’s coming out of this, Mingi supposes, it’s the fact that his coworkers seem nice. The moment Gyuwook opened the door to the office they scrambled away from the frame like co*ckroaches when a light was turned on, but it was pretty obvious they were listening in.
Nice enough, at least. Mingi looks down at his pulsing fingers with a slight pout. When Jongho grabbed his hand for a handshake it was one that lasted a little bit too long for his liking, and Mingi had to stop himself from whining at the tight grip. If it was a dominance thing then he definitely lost, because Jongho seemed pretty pleased once he finally let go.
Mingi’s okay with that. He’s always been more of a lover than a fighter. A teddy bear. A pillow princess, if you will. Anyway, he’s getting distracted—
“This is the cursed ice cream machine.” Yeosang gives the side of it a big whap with a flat palm. It seems as though it would be cursed. It reminds Mingi of the ice cream machines they would have at an old buffet. Were those even a thing anymore? “Wooyoung’s worst enemy and soon to be your own.”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung huffs from where he’s rolling silverware. “Because it barely f*cking works and Gyuwook is too cheap to do anything about it!”
Yeosang looks at Mingi with a silent do you see what I mean?
Mingi definitely sees what he means this time, and he eyes the ice cream machine wearily like at any moment it will jump out and bite him. The clanky whir of it makes him steer clear.
Yeosang pats his lower back again. “Trust me, you’ll have nightmares about this thing.”
Mingi grimaces. “Can’t wait.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Not to be dramatic,” Mingi says, dramatically, “but this is cruel and unusual torture. My feet hurt, dude. I don’t think I’m going to make it.”
He slumps against a booth and does his best rendition of the one and only Scarlett O’hara as he drops himself into it. Closing duties, Mingi has found out, are absolutely the worst. You do not get to go home after your shift has ended. Oh no. Oh no. You have to stay and do something called side work that Mingi is convinced doesn’t even exist. What’s the point of putting up all the chairs at night when they’re just going to be put down again in the morning?
“Oh please,” Jongho snorts, and he’s holding a chair upside down in each hand like he’s a middle school girl with something to prove. “Try being behind the grill when it’s hot as dicks outside and there’s no working aircon.”
“Jongho~” Yeosang sing-songs with a sweep of his broom. He’s a goddamn Disney Princess. Mingi peeks over the back of the booth to see if there are any woodland critters hiding around the corner. “Watch your language.”
Jongho grumbles petulantly under his breath. “That’s not what you were saying last night.”
And Mingi’s lips curl into a perfect o as Yeosang splutters. He watches as the other stops sweeping the floor in favor of hitting Jongho with the broom instead. Jongho cackles as he dodges the swipe and sets up the rest of the chairs.
“You did pretty good for your first day, Mingi.”
His attention is drawn from the squabbling couple to Wooyoung. The smaller is standing in front of the register, counting the loose bills with deft fingers, and Mingi gets up to lean his weight against the side of the counter to watch. It’s the first time he’s heard Wooyoung speak since they’ve started closing duties, but Mingi gets it. He can barely text and walk at the same time.
There’s something about praise that makes Mingi’s ears burn. In a good way. In a woah maybe I should look into this more kind of way. Wooyoung thinks he did a good job. Even though he did technically drop a whole tray of burgers. He’s also pretty sure he forgot to run table four’s sweet tea.
But hey! If Wooyoung said he did a good job then did a good job, dammit. Mingi is the best damn boy in this place. What was he even sweating over?
“Better than I thought you would, anyway.” Wooyoung closes the register with a loud and final clank. Oh the sweet, sweet sound of finally being done for the night. “Honestly I thought you wouldn’t even last ten minutes.”
“Oh, uh. Thank you? I think?”
Yeosang laughs softly as he walks by to dump the tray of dirt and grime into the trash can behind the counter. “Take it as a compliment, Mingi. It’s the best you’re gonna get from him.”
Mingi’s chest puffs. Say less. You bet Jongho’s sweet ass he will.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“You wanna watch me flip a burger into the air and catch it?”
Seonghwa’s voice sounds exasperated when he says, “Hongjoong, do you not remember what happened last time? Because I do. Gyuwook still won’t let us forget about the patty-on-the-ceiling incident.”
Mingi looks up at the suspicious grease stain on the ceiling before back down between the two of them. “...I kinda wanna see it.”
Seonghwa throws his hands into the air with a shake of his head. Mingi feels a little guilty about egging this on, but more than anything he wants to see if Hongjoong can actually do it.
It’s been exactly three (3!) weeks since he started working at Illusion. While waking up earlier than noon is harder than Mingi expected he can’t exactly say he hates it here. Sure, he’d rather be up until three am working on his Minecraft village, and he’s honestly been too tired when he gets home to take care of his needs so he’s left with the worst case of blue balls ever but—He doesn’t hate it. Honestly? It’s kind of fun, but don’t you dare let his mother know.
And he’s finally had the chance to meet the others. Well, all of them but one. The elusive Yunho has still yet to show his face. Seonghwa mentioned idly that it was because he’s visiting family out of town. Mingi isn’t so sure he exists at all.
“Yeah, you never know!” San pipes up from behind, and he waves the polished silverware above his head in a flourish. “He might catch it this time!”
“That’s what you say every time Hongjoong tries to catch a burger.” Seonghwa points out with his hands on his hips. “And has he actually done it?”
“I believe in you, Joong.” Mingi whispers to him over the warming station of the kitchen, and Oh God does he believe. He’s never wanted to see a burger flipped so bad in his life. A man who wears nothing but tie dye and Birkenstocks with socks to work just has to be magical. Mingi’s got faith. “I bet you can do it, hyung.”
“Thank you, Mingi. AKA the only person in this damn restaurant who values me at all. Now prepare to get your sh*t rocked. Witness me.”
Mingi watches with wide eyes as Hongjoong readies the burger patty onto the flat side of his spatula. The redhead’s tongue is poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration—Fix On—and everyone, including Seonghwa, seems to be waiting eagerly to see what happens next.
It goes in slow-motion. One moment the patty is on the spatula, and the next it’s flipping circles up in the air. Mingi leans forward and grips the workstation table knuckle-white, and nothing could take his eyes off the absolute art that’s going to be Hongjoong catching that damn burger patty.
Hongjoong steadies himself, and the hand that’s holding the spatula wavers as he tries to predict the exact spot the patty will fall.
With bated breath they watch its descent, and when the patty falls back onto the spatula, for a moment nobody seems to know what to do.
It’s deathly quiet before Seonghwa’s mouth opens with an incredulous, “Oh my god?”
]Cue the chaos. San’s arms wrap around Mingi’s waist to hoist him off the ground and shake him back and forth. He and Hongjoong are both yelling as the smaller of the two parades around the kitchen with the spatula held high above his head in triumph. Seonghwa looks like he’s questioning everything he’s ever known, and Mingi feels…
Huh. Mingi feels good. Like really, really good. That gooey kind of feeling. Like he belongs here or something.
“Hey! What are you sh*theads yelling about in here?”
They all freeze on the spot, like a game of freeze tag, and Gyuwook’s the one who’s it. It’s Hongjoong who moves first, and his hyung raises the spatula even higher into the air like an idol to be worshiped. Mingi would be on his knees in prayer if the ground wasn’t f*cking filthy.
“I caught the patty on the spatula, man!”
Their manager’s eyes narrow, but after a moment of silence they return back to his sleepy gaze. His hand scratches at his belly.
“No sh*t?”
They all nod in unison.
“Ha, nice.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Mingi, are you even listening to me, you little sh*t?”
Mingi is, indeed, not listening. This level of Candy Crush has all of his attention. Not only is it the fourth time he’s attempting it, but if he has to pay anymore real life money for more tries he’ll be—he’ll be really, really sad. Okay?
The failing sound of Mingi losing the level rings from his phone and across his bedroom, and he wacks the sh*tty thing a few times into his pillow out of spite. “Uhuh, totally.”
Listen, maybe it does seem a little pathetic that he’s playing Candy Crush on a Saturday night, but that’s not all he’s going to be doing. San and Wooyoung are dragging him to a bonfire. A bonfire on the beach. It’s like every sh*tty coming of age movie ever, and Mingi is the leading star. It’s supposedly a tradition. The first Saturday of the summer when everyone was in town was The Night™.
“Then what did I just say?”
Ah…Wooyoung has him there. Mingi couldn’t tell him a single word that’s been spoken. But only because the moment Wooyoung mentioned trying to find an outfit for him Mingi checked the f*ck out.
“We’re supposed to be here for you, you know.” It’s San who reaches out and plucks Mingi’s phone from his hands. His words of protest go ignored, and with a heavy sigh Mingi flops back down onto the bed. He casts his pouted gaze up towards the ceiling. The glow in the dark stars he placed there years ago have still yet to budge. Damn, how many did he actually put up there? He begins to count.
“Hey, dumbass!” The snap of San’s fingers in front of his face is loud, and Mingi bats his hand away with a start. “Weren’t you the one who said you had no clue what to wear to a bonfire?”
He leans up on his forearms with a gasp. “Nuhuh! I said what I was going to wear, and Woo said—and I quote—absolutely f*cking not Song Mingi I’ll kill you.”
“Jorts!” Wooyoung cries out from his venture into Mingi’s closet. “Mingi you were going to wear f*cking jorts!”
“Hey!” Mingi whines loudly with a kick of his leg in Wooyoung’s general direction. “My mom got those for me!”
“That’s even worse. What the f*ck? Are you even a real person?”
He falls back down against his bed with another sigh, and Mingi makes sure this time it’s big and dramatic so Wooyoung can hear it. San clicks his tongue above him, and before Mingi can stop him—though why would he ever?—his lap becomes warm and full of Kitten. Two large hands reach down to cup Mingi’s cheeks, and San smooshes them together so his lips stick out in a ridiculous pout.
It’s almost pathetic the way his blood rushes immediately down to his dick. Like holy sh*t. Is he starting to feel alittle lightheaded?
Mingi knows San is just doing it in an attempt to keep his attention, and definitely to tease, but the weight on his lap feels far better than it should.
Not to mention San has an ass that absolutely won’t quit, and Mingi would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it from time to time. It wasn’t called the pride of Illusion for no reason.
Now said ass is cupped perfectly in his palms, and Mingi can’t help but wonder how an ass of all things can be this holy. Should he start praying? The way the soft flesh gives under his fingers when Mingi squeezes is telling him that he should. Though he’s not exactly sure what the logistics are when it comes to confessionals about your friend's ass.
Forgive me father for I have sinned. This ass is making me, quite literally, dumb as f*ck.
“Wooyoung is going to pick you something out, and you’re going to wear it.” Mingi blinks dazed as San smooshes his cheeks together once more. “So we can finally get to the damn bonfire we were supposed to be at an hour—Mingi…are you getting hard right now?”
God is he. Like some kind of pent up virgin. Has it really been that long? The enthusiastic blowj*b gone horribly wrong wasn’t the last piece of action he got…Was it? Oh god it was, wasn’t it?
Mingi nods his head the best he can, cheeks still squished, and lips still pouted. “Uhuh.”
San releases his face with an unimpressed sigh. “You’re hopeless.”
Wooyoung finally stumbles out of the closet with an arm full of clothes, and Mingi doesn’t even have time to congratulate him for coming out before the pile is thrown over his face. Mingi splutters as San slides off his lap to look over the procured haul.
“Not bad, Wooyoungie! I think these will work.”
“It’s the best I can do considering Mingi dresses like a divorced father who’s mother still buys his clothes.”
Mingi groans loudly as he pulls a shirt off his face. “I just hate clothes shopping, okay? It’s so boring. You’re just still hating on my flame shirt. Guy Fieri wears them all the time and he looks f*cking banging!”
“Guy Fieri is fifty years old, Mingi! And no! Nobody looks good in a flame shirt. Jesus Christ you’re so cute but so dumb what even—” Mingi watches as Wooyoung’s words trail to a stop, and then he smacks a hand to his forehead. “I cannot stop looking at your boner, dude. It’s so f*cking distracting. I don’t even remember what I was going to say.”
With a long, drawn out groan, Mingi rolls onto his stomach and presses his face into his Spiderman sheets. Maybe if he does it long enough, hard enough, there’ll be a good chance he’ll suffocate himself to death.
He doesn’t even need to look at San to know how pleased his expression must be. His tone of voice is enough when he teases, “Why don’t you get hard that fast for me anymore, Woo?”
Wooyoung’s responding smack echoes in Mingi’s ears. He snorts into the bed at San’s loud whine.
“Ah! It was a joke!”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Mingi ends up forced into a cardigan with a dip so low in the front there’s bound to be a nip slip. It makes him feel a little sexy, honestly. A little scandalous. He forewent the jorts much to his own displeasure—and Wooyoung’s pleasure—and instead opted to wear a nice, worn pair of jeans.
Mingi’s not gonna lie. He’s lowkey feeling himself a bit. Only lowkey, though. He probably would look even better if he got to wear his flame shirt, but whatever.
The deep, warm sand causes Mingi to stumble, arms shooting out into the air to balance himself, and he almost loses the shoes in his hands in the process. He’s not drunk already, not really, but he and Wooyoung decided to chug his mom’s bottle of riesling before they left. San reassured him that she probably wouldn’t even notice as he filled it with water, but Mingi knows his mom is gonna be pissed.
A future Mingi problem, he fears, but one he can at least ignore for now.
San reaches out and wraps an arm around Mingi’s waist, and once noticed, Wooyoung does the same as well. There could be worse things happening than showing up to The Night™ with two beautiful men under his arms. You’ll hear no complaints from him.
“It’s like the Three Musketeers!” Hongjoong calls over the rising sound of waves hitting the shore and the crackle of the fire. “But gay!”
Mingi raises his eyebrows, and his expression is one Seonghwa catches from the glow of the bonfire. He smiles exasperated and offers to take Mingi’s shoes out of his hands. “Ignore him. He’s drunk two wine coolers and is already smashed.”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Mingi holds out a fist, and Hongjoong happily bumps it with his own. “f*ck it up, hyung.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but even so Mingi can see the way the smile on his lips grows fond. He sets Mingi’s shoes aside and leans back into the sand on his hands. “Don’t encourage him.”
It’s not a large fire, but it’s not a small one either. Jongho is tending to it while Yeosang sits happily in his lap. They’re talking quietly amongst themselves, and Yeosang makes a face when he catches Mingi’s gaze. He must have been staring for too long, but Mingi makes sure to send him a face back that’s as ugly as it is dramatic.
San and Wooyoung break away from his side in favor of sitting down on the large blanket that’s laid out before them, and with a slight wobble Mingi follows suit.
“Where’s Puppy?” San asks as he leans over to grab a wine cooler from the carton. He twists the cap off and throws it back into the carton before passing the cool drink into Mingi’s palm. He then goes back in for his own. “He’s coming, right? I checked his location. He should be back in town.”
“Wait, a puppy?” Mingi’s a little too excited at the idea, and the alcohol in his mouth dribbles past his lips and into his lap. He wipes it unceremoniously away from his chin with the back of his hand. “There’s gonna be a puppy?”
Jongho snorts. “No idiot. Yuyu.”
“...Yuyu?”
Wooyoung leans over to clink their bottles together before raising his own to take a sip. “Yunho.”
“Oh. Riiiight.” Mingi nods, and he nurses on his wine cooler for a moment before finally asking—Just because he’s curious, okay? Apparently his guy is actually real. Who would have thought? “What is Yunho like?”
And almost immediately Hongjoong replies, “The biggest f*cking teddy bear you’ll ever meet in all of your existence on this planet.”
Seonghwa cants his head to the side with a soft sigh. “How does one even describe Yunho?”
Hongjoong elbows him in the ribs. “I literally just did.”
Mingi gives a low whistle and his eyebrows raise with intrigue. “That’s a pretty serious claim, hyung.”
“Is it a claim if it’s true?” Wooyoung muses as he plops his upper body right into San’s lap. Damn, everyone really was coupled up, weren’t they? Mingi wraps both hands around the bottle of his wine cooler and intertwines his fingers together. He’ll hold his own damn hand thank you very much. “Yuyu is great. You’ll like him. He’s exactly your type.”
He blinks. “My type?”
Mingi hears Yeosang snicker over the crackle of the fire, and his ears burn as he looks at the faces around him. Nobody is looking back. “Hey. Hey. What do you mean when you say my type?”
Wooyoung gives a dismissing wave of his hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? Just trust me.”
“Trust you? You want me to trust you?”
Mingi barely has any time to dodge the foot Wooyoung kicks out in his general direction. He whines his way into Hongjoong’s arms, and his hyung wraps around him protectively. Hongjoong slaps Wooyoung’s ankle away when he tries to kick him a second time. “Don’t kick my baby!”
“Yeah!” Mingi retorts. He hopes his expression is as smarmy as he’s attempting to make it. “Don’t kick the baby. I’m baby.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“My dick is literally shrinking. Right now as we speak!” Jongho yelps loudly. “What the hell, Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung does nothing but cackle, and Mingi didn’t realize they were already cling-onto-me-naked-while-we-skinny-dip-in-the-ocean kind of friends, but here they are. He actively ignores the press of Wooyoung’s dick against his side as he hoists him up higher in his arms.
It took no convincing for Mingi to get butt-ass naked and into the ocean, but it sure did for the rest of the group. Even now he can hear Seonghwa complaining about the cold, salty water. Yeah, sure, it was probably just a little bit too early in the season to go all out, but it’s The Night™, remember? And it’s cheesy as f*ck, Mingi can admit it, but he’s always wanted to check off skinny dipping from his list of things to do before dies.
And he’s not even doing it alone. He’s doing it with friends. Mingi chooses to ignore how surreal that feels, too. He’s not drunk enough to start crying about the things that make him happy…yet.
Wooyoung wraps his legs around Mingi’s waist so he can keep himself anchored as he leans back into the cool water. The water is still enough for him to float easily, and Mingi thinks he falls a little bit in love with Wooyoung too as he watches him stretch his arms out happily above his head. Mingi is content to help keep Wooyoung’s upper body braced above the water. At least for a little bit.
“What the hell you guys!” A deep voice suddenly calls out across the shore. Their heads turn on cue, and Mingi squints into the distance to watch a tall figure wave a pair of underwear above his head. They’ve got red love hearts on them like the pair he has. “So I run a little behind and you all just decide to skinny dip without me?!”
Wait a second. They are his pair of f*cking underwear!
He makes a choked noise in the back of his throat, and Wooyoung splutters salt water out of his nose when Mingi’s grip on him drops away. The stranger bends down to pick up another pair to wave those, too.
“Woo, that guy has my f*cking underwear.”
Wooyoung blindly throws out a hand, and it stings where it slaps against Mingi’s wet skin. “You almost drowned me, dickhe*d!”
Mingi is already wading back to shore with a stressed, “Woo! That guy has my f*cking underwear!”
He can hear Wooyoung groan behind him, and the water ripples around his waist as Wooyoung catches up. It seems to set the rest of them in motion, and Mingi gets an eye-full of Hongjoong’s pale ass as he zips right by. Mingi trails to a stop to watch how they all clamber closer to shore, and it takes him a few seconds before he follows suit.
“Yunho! Get your ass in the water, man!”
“Yunho where the hell have you been?! I’ve texted you like–A million times!”
San’s elbow knocks into Mingi’s side on the way as he loses his footing, and he doesn’t even get an apology once San gains it back. There’s no shame as San walks out of the water and onto the shore to collect Yunho, but it’s not like there’s other patron’s on the beach they have to hide their nudity from.
Yunho laughs as San starts dragging him into the water. He’s attempting to bat San’s hands away so he can start to take off his own clothes, and once the moonlight hits just right, Mingi can finally really see him.
He’s—Holy f*ck. Mingi’s brain is having a hard time processing his face, nevertheless finding the words to describe it. Yunho is tall. Yunho’s got a smile so large it rivals one of a labrador retriever. Yunho’s got broad shoulders and a deliciously soft stomach that Mingi can’t help but drink up when he finally has the freedom to pull his shirt over his head.
Wooyoung only looks a little smug about it once he finds his place back at Mingi’s side. Mingi looks down to watch Wooyoung smoosh his cheek against his shoulder, and he must look dumb as f*ck, because it only makes Wooyoung’s smirk grow.
He reaches up to tap the underneath of Mingi’s chin with a finger. “You look like a goldfish.”
“That’s Yunho?” Mingi finally asks once his tongue catches up with the words attempting to leave his mouth all at once. “With the way you guys talked about him being a puppy I expected Airbud but not—”
Mingi’s words die off pathetically as he watches Yunho bring his hands down to start unbuttoning his pants. It’s simply p*rnographic, but maybe that’s because San is helping him with his zipper.
Wooyoung rubs his face against Mingi’s arm like a content cat, and they both watch as it becomes a group effort to help Yunho out of his clothes and into the ocean. His laugh rings out loud across the water, and Mingi definitely starts believing in the idea of love at first sight as his gaze trails down, down, down to the guiding V of Yunho’s bare hips.
“Oh yeah.” He hears the smaller male muse, and his voice is filled with nothing but mirth. “He’s uncut.”
Mingi sinks down into the water with a groan and lets it swallow him whole.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Mingi, how are you the most embarrassing person I’ve ever met?”
It’s not Mingi’s fault, okay? He thinks everyone should be blaming Yunho, but that hot take is not well received at all. In fact, Wooyoung tells him to f*ck right off as he watches Mingi pick up the fallen french fries off the floor by hand.
He has butterfingers on a good day, but on the days where Jeong Yunho comes out of the kitchen sweaty from the heat in a white tank top, well…they’re even worse. Mingi thought it was hard—figuratively and literally—watching Hongjoong and Jongho in various states of undress manning the grill, but it’s nothing compared to Yunho. How can flipping burger patties in grease stained pants even be considered sexy?
Don’t ask Mingi. He has no f*cking idea. All he knows is that it is, and that Yunho pulls the look off well. Too well. So well in fact he drops a whole tray of burgers onto the floor. Because all of a sudden Mingi’s dumb as f*ck again and can’t remember how to not walk into walls.
Mingi blinks down at the sudden slender fingers that reach into his view, but it’s not Wooyoung when he looks up, no it’s the person who caused all of this in the first place. Yunho tilts his head with a crooked smile, and Mingi doesn’t even care that he picks up a fry off the floor and pops it into his mouth, because his brain record-scratches so hard he’s almost worried that he’s stroking out.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s just being a jerk. If it makes you feel any better I once dumped a whole tub of frying oil on the floor.”
Yep, those are definitely words leaving Yunho’s mouth, but Mingi’s brain is not processing them. Not at all. Especially not when that sweet smile grows even larger. “Sorry, what?”
The eyebrow Yunho raises is teasing. His head tilts to the left, and then it tilts to the right. He looks just like…Oh. Mingi might be starting to see the puppy resemblance now. “Hongjoong fell so hard his ass was bruised for weeks.”
Yunho picks up another floor fry to eat, and this time Mingi wraps his fingers around the other's wrist with a grimaced laugh. “Dude. I can promise you San skipped out on mopping the floors last night. I watched him do it.”
Yunho eats it anyway, and while Wooyoung might be gagging in the background because of it, Mingi just finds himself thinking it’s cute. Can you believe that? A grown man eating a french fry off the dirty floor is cute.
“Just run the order back to me and I’ll make those burgers again for you on the fly, yeah?” Yunho’s stands, and the fingers he wraps around Mingi’s bicep to help him up off the floor are greasy. Yunho is greasy, but Mingi finds he doesn’t mind the smell of burgers and cologne. At least not when it’s Yunho who smells like it. “Don’t tell Jongho though. He’ll bust a nut and not in good way.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“And then he was like—” Wooyoung throws himself into San's arms dramatically, and Mingi groans behind his hands with burning ears. He then drags them down his face in despair as Wooyoung continues his blatant bullying. “Oh, Yunho! Thank you so much for helping me pick up fries off the floor! Now let me suck you off. Give me your babies.”
“I did not say that, you asshat! I didn’t say any of that because I couldn’t even come up with normal words to say.”
San pouts fondly from his spot on Mingi’s bed, and he wrestles Wooyoung against his chest before offering a hand. Mingi glares at it for a whole two seconds before caving and lets himself get dragged in between the two of them. A WooSan sandwich. “I think it’s cute.”
Mingi drags his pillow over his face and presses down. “I’m actually so stupid. That was so embarrassing.”
“Well,” San starts with a hum. “At least you got his attention?”
Mingi groans again as Wooyoung cackles against his side. It’s too hot, and San’s knee is digging uncomfortably into his hip. But Mingi likes this. He likes them. Even if all they’re doing right now is teasing him.
“Oh, Yunho! Pick me up with your big strong arms! Watching you eat off the floor makes me so horny–Ow! Mingi that hurt!”
San snorts as Mingi raises his hand back up in another threat. “You kind of deserved that one, Woo.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Hyung…Do you think he wants kids?”
Mingi never thought God would take form in the shape of a beautiful man—who’s f*cking 6’1 by the way—but here he was in all his glory. He watches as Yunho’s fingers curl into the tender flesh of the soft peach in his hand. It’s dripping. Between his fingers, down his wrist, and Mingi’s breath catches as Yunho sticks out of his pink tongue to lick up the juice running down his forearm.
When their gazes catch Yunho sends him a brilliant smile, and Mingi begins mentally planning their wedding.
Seonghwa pauses his silverware polishing and blinks. “You really are down bad, aren’t you? I didn’t believe Wooyoung when he told me, but he was—“
“Don’t!” Mingi cuts him off quickly. “Don’t you dare, hyung. If you admit he was right we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“You’re literally seconds away from barking. He’s just eating a peach, Mingi.”
“f*ck, yeah. He’s really eating it, huh?”
“Hyung!” Jongho’s loud complaint carries across the kitchen. “Those peaches are meant to be for the peach cobbler special! Stop f*cking eating them all, and maybe start making some!”
Yunho cheekily digs the tip of his tongue between his fingers to collect the settled juice, and Mingi wonders if he’d like their wedding to be during the summer or fall.
(He already knows. Summer. Definitely summer. Summer looks good on Yunho. All gorgeous tan skin covered in freckles. Mingi is sure by now he can map them across Yunho’s shoulders with his eyes closed.)
Okay, yeah. He was pretty down bad, but who wouldn’t be? Mingi almost wept with joy when Yeosang told him that Yunho was single. Sure, they haven’t even really had a full conversation, but Mingi? Mingi still has a chance. At least when he finally, you know, works up the courage to actually talk to him.
Yunho dodges the towel Jongho throws his way, and makes quick work of the peach’s pit before sauntering towards them. He takes one last bite before offering it to Seonghwa first. Mingi watches with wide eyes as Seonghwa grimaces and delivers a little punch to Yunho’s side.
“It’s funny because peaches make hyung’s mouth itch.” Yunho licks his lips as he leans in, voice low and teasing, and Mingi feels his heart stop. He brings the peach back up in offering and presses it against Mingi’s lower lip instead. “But you’re not allergic, right?”
Mingi’s lips part before he even realizes he’s opening up so easily to Yunho’s offer. The ripe peach bursts sweet across his tongue, and the juice collects at the corner of his lips and drips down his chin when he takes a bite. Yunho holds the peach there until Mingi’s brain kicks in, and finally he takes the peach into his own shaking hand.
Yunho laughs softly, and Mingi’s sure it’s due to the dumbstruck expression currently frozen on his face. It only gets worse when Yunho brings up his thumb to once again suck the juice away from his fingers. “It’s good, huh?”
Mingi licks his sticky lips and nods. “Yeah, it’s really good.”
It must have been the right thing to say, because Yunho looks—Well, Yunho looks as pleased as a peach.
“Yunho!” Jongho calls out again, and this time the tone of his voice means business. “Will you please start flipping some damn burgers. You do realize there’s a party of twenty out there, right?”
Mingi blinks wide. “Oh sh*t–That’s my table. I forgot to ring their beers in!”
His cheeks burn bright as Yunho’s laugh follows him out of the kitchen.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“You got some chocolate…”
Mingi’s eyes widen as he brings his hand up to face, and he wipes blindly at the corner of his lips.
“Did I get it?”
Yunho laughs softly and scoots closer on the log next to him. The soft crackling sound of the bonfire they’re in front of is drowned out by the low tone of his friends' voices.
Because this is something Mingi does. Sure, he works a summer job, but he has friends who he hangs out with on his days off. They do things like bonfires and parties and late night game sessions.
Mingi is a part of something now. It makes his body thrum warmly at the realization.
“Can I…?” Yunho holds out his hand, and Mingi looks at it one, two, three seconds before his brain finally puts two and two together.
“Oh, uh—” He leans forward into the other’s awaiting palm, and Yunho’s crooked smile grows.
“How did you get s’more bits all the way up to your cheek, dude?”
Mingi can feel his cheeks start to heat, but at least he’s able to blame the temperature of them on the fire. “Guess I’m just a messy eater.”
He watches as Yunho’s eyebrows raise to his hairline, and that crooked smile becomes one a little deeper. A hint of something there that Mingi knows will drive him crazy if he reads too much into it.
Yunho’s thumb smears the chocolate away on his cheekbone with his thumb, and he brings it up to his lips to lick it away. “Well, you know what they say about messy eaters.”
Mingi blinks. “…What do they say about messy eaters?”
Yunho blinks back before his head is tipping up towards the starry sky. His laugh is warm warm warm, even when it’s at the expense of Mingi himself. He likes that he can make Yunho laugh.
Yunho is happy because of him. sh*t, that feels good.
“Yunho—” Mingi whines. “What do they say about messy eaters?”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The walk-in refrigerator is a wonderful reprieve to the hottest day of the summer. Mingi’s been sweating his ass off since he arrived, and even though all the windows of the restaurant are open, the simmering heat still lingers.
“Oh f*ck—Jesus Christ! You scared the sh*t out of me!”
Yunho at least sounds sheepish when he gives a soft, “Sorry, dude.”
Mingi rubs a hand over his beating heart and watches Yunho push an unopened box of burger patties his way in offering. His breath plumes out around him with a grateful sigh as he sits down on top of it. Oh yeah. This is good. Mingi tilts his head back towards the ceiling happily.
Yunho nudges him with his foot. “You’re not in here to have Seonghwa Mental Breakdown Time™ are you? Am I interrupting something?”
Mingi can’t help his dumb snort, and he drops his head back down in favor of looking at Yunho instead. His ears burn something fierce when Yunho’s smile grows. Goddamn. “No breakdown time. Just hiding from Ms. Nam and her ghoul of a dog. I lost rock-paper-scissors to Yeosang and now I have to serve her. I’m pretty sure Yeosang cheats. Can you even cheat at rock-paper-scissors?”
Yunho bites his lip with a soft laugh. “Oh yeah. He cheats all the time. It’s a weird brain trick. He always chooses rock.”
“sh*t,” Mingi pouts and leans back on his hands. “I knew it.”
Their knees knock together, and Mingi’s heart is sent back into overdrive for an entirely different reason now. Yunho has yet to stop looking at him in a way that makes Mingi thankful for the cool air. He’s pretty sure his face would be the color of a tomato right now if they weren’t currently sitting in a fridge.
Like, what the f*ck? Mingi’s feeling shy. Super shy. Like he’s thirteen again with a mouth full of braces trying to talk to his crush for the first time. “...What? Do I have something on my face?”
Yunho’s eyes crinkle when his smile reaches them and he gives a shake of his head. “No. Just looking.”
“Oh. Well—” Mingi’s voice cracks and he tries to cover it up with a clear of his throat. “Look any longer and I might have to start charging you, dude. These killer looks don’t come for free.”
And it takes Mingi absolutely off guard when Yunho casually asks, “What do they come for, then?”
Holy sh*t. Mingi’s not sure if Yunho means what he thinks he means. Mingi hopes Yunho means what he thinks he means. Probably not, though. Mingi knows he’s been thinking with his second head ever since he laid eyes on him at the beach.
So he just hums and tips his head to the side. “You just want me to give my secrets away?”
Yunho nods with no hesitation. “Yeah. I do.”
Mingi can’t feel his face. He’s scared the smile crossing it looks more unhinged than it does inviting. “Well I mean—”
They both jump as the door to the walk-in slams open. Seonghwa's shirt is soaking wet, and Mingi’s nose crinkles as the scent of alcohol reaches them. Uhoh.
“Get out.” He seethes, and Yunho and Mingi all but trip over each other in their haste to stand. Seonghwa’s hot gaze doesn’t leave them until they’re both standing back in the kitchen. His hand wraps around the latch of the door. “I will be in here for the next thirty minutes avoiding that stupid bridal party. Apparently it’s easy forget how to not spill your f*cking beer all over your server. If you need me? No you do not.”
The walk-in door slams shut and Mingi’s lips purse at the muffled, angry yell that leaks out from behind it. Yunho brings up a hand to hide his snort behind, and the giggle that was threatening to leave Mingi’s lips finally tumbles past as he digs an elbow into Yunho’s side.
“Shut up. He’ll kill us if he hears you.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The rain would be a welcome sight if it wasn’t for the fact that it was after a double-shift and during a still needed walk home. Mingi watches as it comes pouring down over the awning of the restaurant, and almost contemplates just sleeping in a booth for the night.
“Didn’t bring an umbrella, hm?”
When Mingi startles it’s more embarrassing than he’d like. The noise that’s ripped out of his throat can only be described as a snort of fear, and his cheeks burn when Yunho lets out a soft laugh at the sound of it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare the sh*t out of you—again. I figured you would have left already. So imagine my surprise…”
He leans against the window to Mingi’s right and dips his head to look past the awning and into the rain. Mingi rubs a hand over his beating heart and places his forehead back against the cool pane of glass to watch with him.
“I didn’t bring an umbrella.” Not even after his mother told him to look at the weather. Mingi can only imagine the I told you so he’s going to get when he finally gets home. He gives a sigh. “I’ll probably just wait it out.”
“Well—” Yunho starts cheekily. “Then it’s a good thing that I’m still here, right?”
Mingi settles his gaze back onto him just in time to watch as he raises an umbrella in his hand. Yunho waves it above his head with a flourish, and Mingi can’t help his smile at the sight.
“That is not going to fit the two of us, man.”
“Oh definitely not. But it’s worth the try, right?”
Yeah, worth the try and worth the chance of another potential heart attack. Mingi doesn’t think his weak, Yunho-stressed heart can take much more, but he’s allowing the taller male to usher him out the front door anyway.
They stand close close close, and Yunho tilts his head to give Mingi a smile when their shoulders brush together.
Maybe it was a detriment to Mingi’s health being able to look at him up close. It’s distracting. Yunho is distracting. With his big, pretty smile, and his round cheekbones, and the freckles that dot his cheeks because of the sun.
Huh. He even has a freckle on his ear, too. Cute.
Yunho’s lips start moving, and once again Mingi is dumb to the words that are leaving them. He blinks his thoughts away quickly but it’s already too late.
Mingi still has to very smartly ask, “What?”
And Yunho’s head tilts to the right, and it tilts to the left, and his smile grows just as big and affectionate as last time. He gently shakes the umbrella out and finally opens it above their heads. Mingi looks up at him with his pulse in his ears.
“I asked which way we’re going.”
Mingi can’t even remember his own name when Yunho smiles like that. How is he expected to remember where he lives? A part of him contemplates pulling his phone out just so he can pull up a map in his time of need.
He really should start being concerned about the state of his brain, and the sanity that’s quickly draining out of it, but it’s hard when Yunho’s smile is just that sweet.
So Mingi will probably just stay stupid forever, he fears.
“Home, right. Uh—Left.”
“Right. Home. Left.”
Yunho makes sure to keep the umbrella steady over their heads as they finally step into the rain, but it’s all a ruse, because the moment they’re far enough away from the awning he drops the umbrella next to his side.
Mingi startles at the onslaught of rain against his face, but he finds an incredulous laugh tumbling past his lips anyway. “Dude! What the hell?”
Yunho points the umbrella at him, and it reminds him of those Harry Potter films he watched only because the other male mentioned one time that he liked them.
“Race you home?”
What is Mingi going to do, say no? This was like the beginning of every teen love story ever. Or at least, he hopes it is.
“You don’t even know where home is, Yuyu.”
“Mmm. Guess you’ll just have to beat me, then.”
Mingi wipes the rainwater away from his eyes, but it doesn't even matter with how hard it’s raining. He’s already drenched to the bone, and so is Yunho.
“Oh, you’re on.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“So was I right or was I right?”
Mingi tries his absolutely very best to ignore Wooyoung’s presence at his side. He knows what’s coming. Honestly he’s surprised it didn’t happen earlier. Mingi expected Wooyoung to jump his ass like bees on honey the moment he saw him tripping into the door while Yunho was leaving it.
Because Yunho is starting to affect his goddamn feet now. So at this point Mingi can’t talk, and he can’t walk, and it’s only a matter of time before his brain gives up altogether too.
Yeosang’s hum is one filled with the hint of a tease as he rings in his order. “He’s ignoring you.”
Wooyoung sighs dramatically. “You’ll have to admit it at some point, Mingi. We’ve got a bet going.”
That grabs Mingi’s attention, and with a whine he gives up his napkin folding in favor of crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you mean you have a bet going?”
The smallest of the three only gives a wave of his hand. A dismissal. “Don’t worry about it. Just tell me I was right.”
“I’m not admitting anything, you little heathen.”
Wooyoung is unphased. If anything, the refusal is what keeps him going. Mingi reaches out to pinch the smirk off his face, and Wooyoung’s words are muffled when he gives a smug, “Oh you will, Mingi. You will.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Look at this one, Min! It’s an Olive Shell!”
If Yunho had a tail Mingi is sure it would be wagging a mile a minute. The taller drops a seashell into his outstretched palm, and Mingi gently turns it with his fingers. It’s dappled white and brown and bleached from the sun.
Another shell to add to his growing collection. His heart does a kick-flip in his chest. God, Yunho is so f*cking cute.
Mingi wasn’t even planning on going out today. No work and a house to himself meant Rotting Time, but when Yunho sent him a text first thing in the morning about going to the beach, well…Who was he to deny?
He’s pretty sure at this point Yunho could ask him to kill a man, and the only thing Mingi would ask is how he’d like it done.
Seriously. Look “simp” up in the dictionary and all you’d see is a picture of Mingi’s dumb face. He could have stayed home today to jack off and play a few games of League, but instead he’s here with his heart in his throat watching Yunho collect seashells.
And the seashells he’s collecting are for him.
“Do you like it?”
I like you! Mingi wants to scream. He wants to grab Yunho’s round cheeks and shake him by the head, but instead he settles for, “Yeah, I do. It’s pretty.”
Yunho’s chest puffs pleased, and Mingi’s really starting to see the puppy comparisons now. He wonders if he threw a ball if Yunho would bring it back wet with drool and drop it right into his open palm. How pretty would he sit when Mingi tells him to? What are all the things he’d do just for a treat?
He leans back into the warm sand on his elbows with a wistful sigh and watches Yunho jog back down to the shore. He’s all broad shoulders and rounded soft, biteable hips. It’s like a goddamn episode of Baywatch, and it’s so dumb the way Mingi contemplates drowning himself in the ocean just for a little chance of mouth to mouth.
Yeah, he’s f*cked.
But hopefully he’ll at least be f*cked in a good way.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Is this the shell I got you?”
Yunho reaches out with those pretty, long fingers across the prep station in the kitchen to wrap around the Olive Shell hanging from Mingi’s neck on a string.
Why yes, he did ask his mother if she could make it into a necklace for him. He’s not ashamed to admit it, okay? Everybody already knows where Mingi stands when it comes to his simp-status. He’s at an all time high. Probably the highest anyone has gone.
Like f*ck, he’s got a little seashell shrine started at this point. What’s next? A lock of Yunho’s hair and a pair of his underwear?
…Don’t give him any ideas. Seriously.
“Oh uh—Yeah.” Warmth still floods Mingi’s cheeks as he looks down at it anyway. Caught in the act. Yunho wasn’t even supposed to be working tonight, but he must have picked up Hongjoong’s shift. It’s the only reason Mingi wore it. “Sorry, is that weird?”
Yunho blinks before giving a soft chuckle. “No. It’s not weird. I like it. It looks good. You did a good job.”
“My mom did it for me.” Mingi blurts nervously, and he doesn’t even need to look at Jongho behind the grill to know he’s throwing a hand up to his forehead in exasperation. “She’s uh—really good at arts and crafts.”
The growing smile on Yunho’s face is the only thing stopping Mingi from ending it all.
He gives the shell around Mingi’s neck a soft squeeze before finally dropping his hand away. Mingi watches with red cheeks and burning ears as he steps out from behind the prep station to make his way to the walk-in refrigerator. Yunho’s voice is laced with mirth at Mingi’s expense. “Point still stands, Min. You look good.”
Once Yunho is finally out of sight Mingi burrows his head into his hands with a deep groan. Can he not say stupid sh*t for at least one day? Jesus Christ.
“You just gave me the worst second-hand embarrassment, hyung.”
When he lifts his head back up Mingi is greeted with Jongho’s cringing face. He gives him a pouted glare. “I’ll kill you.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Mingi knows he’s a big boy. Ever since he was little he’s always been aware of how much space he took up in a room. His growth spurt hit in elementary school and then never stopped. It shows in the stretch marks on his legs and over his hips and even his shoulders. A simple weed in the sun on a good day.
We caught all that, right? TLDR; Mingi equals Big Boy.
So why, why is he struggling trying to reach the last box of fish sticks? It’s not like the shelves are too tall, but the box is just barely out of reach, and it’s mocking the way Mingi’s fingers brush against it but can’t grab. He lets out a deep curse and presses his forehead against the metal rack in a moment of collection.
Today is just one of those days. That kind of day where it’s, frankly, just not it. Mingi contemplates faking a stomach ache so he can go home and take a nap instead.
When the door to the walk-in opens he doesn’t even bother to see who’s joining him, but he has a feeling on who it is.
“Okay, “ Yunho starts softly teasing, and honestly it's a little pathetic how the sound of his voice instantly raises Mingi’s mood. “Now this looks like Seonghwa Mental Breakdown Time™.”
“I’m getting there.” Mingi grumbles through a pout, and Yunho’s smile is fond when he finally smooshes his cheek against the storage rack to look at him. “Table three is complaining about literally everything. He doesn’t like his burger. You remake it. He doesn’t like that one. So now I’m in here grabbing f*cking fish-sticks from the kids menu so he’ll finally leave me alone. Except I’m not grabbing anything because I can’t even reach it!”
When Yunho laughs, Mingi knows it’s not directed towards him personally. It’s honestly refreshing to hear. He can feel the way the sound of it makes his lips lift up in the corners.
“It’s probably because you’re so short.”
Mingi snorts dumb and loud, but it makes Yunho’s smile grow anyway. “I’m only an inch shorter than you.”
Yunho steps forward, and it’s funny how this time his presence against his side is more comforting than it is panicking. Mingi wants to take a nap in his warmth, but he’s got four more hours of his shift left to go.
Even so, his heart does a small tumble when Yunho curls a large palm around his waist. He’s close close close again. He smells like his cologne and sweat and ocean water, and Mingi would bury his face into Yunho’s side if it wasn’t completely out of pocket to do so.
Yunho reaches up to grab the fish-sticks off the shelf without Mingi even having to ask. Because that’s just the kind of person he is. Doting. Loyal. He’d probably eat out of the palm of Mingi’s hand if he offered. A man’s best friend, and Mingi’s favorite person. A puppy for sure.
The fish-sticks rattle around in the box when Yunho shakes it playfully in his direction, and Mingi thought he was doing a good job in keeping his brain in check, but when Yunho looks back down his way to send him that round-cheeked smile his control flies out the window.
His hand is still holding Mingi’s waist. Hot in the cool of the walk-in refrigerator. Mingi’s so close he can see the way Yunho’s breath fogs the air just slightly when his lips start to move.
“Mingi~”
Mingi blinks. Maybe his brain will always go dumb in Yunho’s presence. A curse he doesn’t quite mind. “Sorry?”
Yunho’s smile has Mingi thinking about their future together, again. “I asked if you wanted me to spit in his food.”
With a click of his tongue Mingi digs his knuckles into Yunho’s side, and the other grabs his hand with a soft laugh. He gives it a squeeze before letting Mingi’s hand free. “You would never do that.”
“Mmm. I would for you.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Mingi’s head is fuzzy, body warm, and he’s only stumbling a little bit as he makes his way into Seonghwa’s kitchen for another drink. Hongjoong’s guitar playing from outside becomes nothing but a thrumming hum, and maybe he’s a little more drunk than he thought, because the words of the label wrapped around the bottle of soju he picks up in his hand start to spin.
“Guess I wasn’t the only one running away from Hongjoong’s singing, hm?”
Yunho’s voice is a teasing lilt, a burning warmth against Mingi’s back, as he comes up from behind to grab the bottle out of his hand. Their fingers brush, and Mingi’s head begins spinning for an entirely different reason. Yunho even smells warm. Like the fire they were just sitting around, but something deeper, musky from outside, a spicy bite from the cologne he wears.
When Mingi turns around he’s standing close, and then he makes it even closer as he sets the bottle down to bracket his hands on the counter on either side of Mingi’s hips. Yunho has him trapped, but Mingi would be stupid for trying to leave. Instead he hoists himself up onto the countertop, and Yunho quickly makes space for himself between his legs.
If he didn’t have a few drinks in him already, Mingi is sure he’d currently be losing his sh*t. Thank god for liquid courage. Or whatever the hell it was that San put in the punch.
“I don’t think I can listen to Hongjoong sing Wonderwall again.” Forming words is hard as it is, but it gets even worse as Yunho’s fingertips start to trail the length of his thighs. They travel up up up Mingi’s sides in a light, teasing touch. Like Yunho is just touching to touch him. “I’m pretty sure he’s not even getting the words right. Seonghwa is just too nice to say anything.”
He watches as Yunho once again wraps a hand around the shell hanging from his neck. Mingi hasn’t taken the damn thing off since he was complimented on it those few days ago. Yunho has made it a habit to comment on it each time he sees it. For now he doesn’t say anything, but keeps it wrapped gently in his fingers. Mingi’s heart starts doing somersaults.
“Because maybe~ You’re going to be the one—” Mingi rolls his eyes with a playful groan as Yunho begins to sing, and he brings both hands up to cover his mouth. He can feel the curve of Yunho’s smile against his palm, and Mingi only drops it away once he knows Yunho won’t start singing again.
“Noooo. I can’t do it anymore. You’ll drive me crazy. Seriously.” He’s already crazy enough due to Yunho, and his touches, and his words, and his goddamn presence. Mingi isn’t sure how much more he can take at this point. “You can’t join my alone time if you start singing again.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to get all evening, you know.”
Mingi’s eyebrows furrow confused. “Alone time?”
And Yunho’s lips tilt in that infuriatingly crooked smile. “Well, yeah. Mostly alone time with you, though.”
“Oh.” Oh. That’s not really a normal thing to say in normal instances, right? Just like that time in the walk-in. Yunho doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who just says things, but then again, Mingi is hoping for a bite of anything at this point. That’s probably it. He’s just simply being delusional again. “Well…you’ve got me now.”
Mingi watches as Yunho’s gaze drops down to the shell of his necklace he’s still holding in his palm, and the curl of his lips grow. After a moment he looks back up at him with those big, brown, puppy dog eyes. “You’re right. I do.”
The noise that leaves Mingi’s lips is one that’s going to keep him up at night with embarrassment, but there’s not much time to think about it in the moment, not when Yunho is tugging him down closer by his jewelry. Mingi’s hands shoot out to catch himself on his broad shoulders, and all of a sudden his heart in his throat.
Yunho is looking at him. Really looking at him. Mingi’s sure he’s going cross-eyed at this point, but then it doesn’t even matter because the moment he feels Yunho’s warm breath against his lips they fall shut. His fingers curl into the muscle of Yunho’s shoulders in anticipation.
Like, holy f*ck. They’re about to kiss, right? Yunho is brushing their noses together because he’s going to kiss him. He wanted alone time with Mingi so he could kiss him.
“Yunho.” Mingi breathes out softly.
He can hear the smile in Yunho’s voice. “Yeah, Min?”
He wonders if the other can hear how hard his heart is beating. “Are you—?”
“Hey! What the hell are you guys doing—Oh sh*t. Oh sh*t! Hyung, close your eyes!”
A smack rings out across the kitchen and Hongjoong yelps loudly. “Ouch! San what the f*ck!?”
Mingi blinks open his dazed eyes as Yunho’s warmth draws away from him, and when his brain finally restarts, they roll to land on the two intruders standing in the doorway. San is looking back at them with wide eyes, and Hongjoong is curled against his chest with San’s hand covering his own eyes.
f*ck. Mingi’s still trying to process that Yunho was about to, maybe, possibly, kiss him. At least he thinks he was about to get kissed. Now he’ll never know thanks to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over here. At least San looks guilty over it.
“We suck.” San says solemnly. “It’s true. You can say it. We suck.”
“You do suck, San.” Yunho sighs, but even so his words are fond. “You guys suck, dude.”
Hongjoong gives another attempt at removing San’s hand from over his eyes. “Hey! You assholes speak for yourself!”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Jung Wooyoung if you don’t shut the f*ck up.” Yeosang warns.
“Jung Wooyoung if you don’t shut the f*ck up,” And Wooyoung, of course, mimics.
Yeosang strikes over the back of the seat like an angry cat, jostling a sleeping Jongho awake against his side, and landing a loud smack onto the expanse of Wooyoung’s forehead. He whines, loud, and right into Mingi’s ear.
“Ouch! Yeosang!”
Hongjoong looks into the rear-view mirror, fingers curled tight around the steering wheel, going practically twenty on the highway. Mingi offered to be the one to drive, but the voice of many decided that wasn’t going to be the case. Whatever. His feelings aren’t hurt or anything…
“I’ll turn this car around. Seriously. I’ll do it.”
If this is the worst that happens when you get the group of them in the car—most hungover from the night before—for a three hour drive then, well, Mingi considers it a blessing. It would just be nice if he wasn’t the one in between it all.
But Yunho sometimes gets car sick, so he has to be next to a window. Wooyoung beat him in a game of rock-paper-scissors for the other one. One look from Seonghwa secured him the front seat, and that left San, Yeosang, and Jongho to take up the very back of Hongjoong’s old, sh*tty VW bus.
“You’re cranky as sh*t when you’re hungover, f*ck.” Wooyoung whines, rubbing the welts in the shape of Yeosang’s fingers on his forehead, “Go take a nap or something.”
Yeosang threatens to bring down the pain again, causing Wooyoung to jerk right into Mingi’s side. Not to be dramatic, but he could literally die.
“Maybe I could if you’d give us all some peace and quiet!”
“You two,” Hongjoong warns, gaze flicking towards the back through the rear-view mirror before moving just as quickly back onto the road. “I’m serious.”
“Well then do it already!” San calls, and when Mingi turns around to look at him, the instigating smile on his face says enough. sh*thead.
“Let’s go to the fairgrounds, they said.” Seonghwa mumbles, the jingle of Animal Crossing playing quietly from his switch. “It’ll be fun, they said.”
“Just shut up! All of you! You’re stressing me the f*ck out and I’m trying to drive!”
Cars whiz by them on both sides. It’s quiet one, two, three moments before Jongho’s sleepy snarky, “Is that what you call this?”
That makes Yunho crack, and he leans against Mingi to hide his snort of laughter into his neck. Mingi elbows him softly in the ribs, but even so his own lips purse in their attempt to stop the stupid giggle threatening to leave them.
He expects Yunho to pull away after a moment, but he doesn’t move his head away from his shoulder, and Mingi has to remind himself to keep breathing.
“Hey.” Yunho’s voice is soft, and when Mingi tilts his head down to look at him he’s close close close. From here he can see the way his lips are pouted, soft and wet, and all of a sudden Mingi feels a little delirious. “Let me play Genshin on your phone.”
Mingi blinks before giving a teasing scoff. “Why, so you can roll all my wishes?”
“Maybe.” Yunho smiles that crooked lip bitten smile, and Mingi’s reminded that he would let the other male have access to all the funds in his bank account if he asked. The password to his phone pales in comparison. “My phone dies too quickly. I’ll farm your artifacts?”
What is Mingi going to do? Say no? Laughable. He tilts his hips up to grab his phone out of his back pocket, and the other makes a happy noise in the back of his throat as it’s placed into his hands.
Yunho stays pressed close to his side, and honestly it’s a little too f*cking hot considering Hongjoong’s junky ass van has no AC, but nobody is going to hear a single peep out of him.
“I’m serious. Don’t use my wishes. I’m close to my 50/50.”
Yunho casts those big brown eyes back up his way, and Mingi’s heart jumps full force into his throat when they fall down to his lips. Though just as quickly as Yunho does it he brings his gaze back up to Mingi’s own, and it leaves him second guessing whether it happened at all.
Mingi’s still not sure if the moment in the kitchen from the night before was real or if it was all just a drunken dream. All he knows is that Yunho has been looking at him differently since. Or he at least hopes Yunho has been looking at him differently since.
But, you know, Mingi’s gotten pretty good at being delusional. If there was an award for craziest ass in town he would surely win it.
Yunho reaches up to tug at the shell hanging around Mingi’s neck. “I’m really lucky. Let me do your pulls, too.”
Seriously, what is Mingi going to do? Say no? He thinks he might be losing it. If he even has anything left to lose. He’s actually probably lost the plot ages ago.
His voice only cracks a little when he says, “Yeah, okay.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Okay, everyone! Remember we're all going to meet back up in a few hours in this very spot. Do not be late. Stick with your buddy so nobody gets hurt. And please, for the love of god, don’t do something that would get you arrested. I will let you rot in jail.”
Mingi feels like he’s back in summer camp with the way Seonghwa is corralling them, and he holds out his wrist diligently for the elder to wrap the fair’s pass bracelet around it. It’s a little too tight for his liking, but he knows better than to complain.
Most of what his hyung is saying is drowned out by the atmosphere of the fair, anyway. When Mingi closes his eyes he feels like he’s back in his childhood again. Those summer hazed days where he would spend his entire allowance trying to win a stuffed animal. When he would make himself sick off corn dogs and fried oreos.
(Back then it was just him, but now it’s Them. Mingi hopes it stays Them for a long time.)
Seonghwa is still listing off rules as Yunho hooks his fingers into the back pocket of Mingi’s jeans and gives a little tug, and Mingi can’t help his bitten smile as he opens his eyes and watches the group start to disperse even though Seonghwa isn’t quite finished.
When he looks over his shoulder Yunho sends him a playful wink and tugs him back closer, and it takes no convincing from the other to get Mingi to turn his back on the eldest in favor of letting Yunho drag him deeper into the fairgrounds instead.
“Also remember to—Hey! What the hell you guys? I’m not finished yet!”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“I don’t remember the bottle toss being so hard.” Mingi’s pouting, but only because he’s out 10 dollars and the only reward he got for it was a small plushie keychain of Gudetama. Yunho doesn’t seem to mind though. Mingi watches as he swings the keychain around his finger happily, and with a sigh he takes another bite of the cotton candy in his hand.
So much for trying to show off and get Yunho the biggest plushie at the fair. Mingi could have sworn he knew how to throw a damn rubber ring.
“It’s because your aim is terrible, dude.” Yunho teases, and he trails to a stop in favor of reaching out for a piece of cotton candy himself. Almost instantly it melts against his warm, wet lips. Leaving small crystals of sugar that Mingi finds himself wanting to lick away. “Were you tossing the rings with your eyes closed?”
Yunho laughs at the fist Mingi digs into his side, and his heart goes right back into his throat again as the taller brings a hand down to wrap around it. Yunho doesn’t let go. Instead he releases the curl of Mingi’s fingers with his own. Mingi almost chokes on his own spit as their fingers slot together.
Holy sh*t. Yunho is holding his f*cking hand.
He then perks an expecting brow. Mingi blinks the daze away from his eyes. f*ck, what was the question? He doesn’t even remember. All he can focus on is Yunho’s hot hand against his own and trying his best to not let it get all sweaty. “Sorry, what?”
“You do that a lot, you know?” Yunho’s smile is as crooked and teasing and perfect as always. Mingi bets it taste sweet. Like the blueberry candy floss still sticking to the corner of his lips.
“What do I do?”
“You zone out. Like you go somewhere else for a moment. Then your ears get all red like they’re going now when you realize it.”
Mingi can’t hide behind his hand like he wants to because Yunho is still holding it. His ears are getting all red. He can feel the way they’re starting to burn.
“It’s because you make me dumb as f*ck sometimes.” He blurts, indeed, dumb as f*ck. Not necessarily something Mingi wanted to admit outloud but, “My brain stops working.”
Yunho’s sweet, puppy smile grows as he reaches up with his free hand to take another piece of cotton candy. This time he offers it to Mingi, and once again Mingi opens up easily to allow the other to press the candy against his tongue. It melts away in an instant.
“It’s cute. You’re cute, Min.”
His ears aren’t the only thing starting to burn, now. Mingi feels the way his cheeks flush hot, and he hopes the blush is at least hidden by the flashing colors of the fairground lights. Yunho steps closer, and his breath hitches in his throat as he looks at him.
“...You think I’m cute?”
“Mingi, have you seriously not noticed?”
“Remember when I mentioned the dumb as f*ck thing?”
Yunho steps closer again, too close. Mingi’s not sure if he’s about to throw himself into cardiac arrest. With the way his heart is beating so hard it does seem like the likely outcome.
“Mingi?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”
Oh. Oh.
It’s like all the air in Mingi’s chest is punched out of him. “Yes. Yeah, please.”
Mingi lets the cotton candy fall discarded to the ground in favor of bringing his hands up to cup Yunho’s cheeks when he finally, finally leans down to press their lips together. Mingi was right. He does taste sweet. Like blueberries and fair lemonade and something distinctly Yunho.
He doesn’t even care that they’re standing in the middle of the fairgrounds. Mingi certainly doesn’t care that it might be a kiss with a little too much teeth because Yunho won’t stop smiling. All Mingi cares about is the warm press of Yunho against his chest, and the wet drag of his tongue against his lips.
And Mingi opens. Opens so easily like always does. Like he always will. As long as it’s Yunho who’s asking for entrance.
They kiss until Mingi’s lips start to become sore. They kiss until the music around them ends and then starts replaying again on its loop. Mingi let’s Yunho kiss him until an angry mother is elbowing him right in the ribs as she walks by, and the only thing that stops them is Mingi’s grunt of pain against his lips.
Only then does he pull away, and if Mingi thought Yunho looked good all the time before, it’s nothing compared to Yunho with red, spit-kissed lips now.
Yunho is breathing deeply in an attempt to catch his breath, and Mingi feels like he’s on cloud-9 with the knowledge that that’s because of him. Those dark eyes are Mingi’s doing.
He licks his lips and Mingi knows it tastes like cotton candy, because his do too.
“Do you want to go ride the ferris wheel?” Yunho finally asks after a moment of collecting himself.
Truthfully, the last ride Mingi wants to go on is the ferris wheel. He’s terrified of heights. But a ferris wheel ride means more alone time with Yunho. Alone time with Yunho in a window-tinted passenger car all to themselves up in the setting sun sky.
Well, he’d be stupid not to take that offer, really. Fear of heights be damned. He might be dumb sometimes, but he’s not that dumb.
Yunho’s cotton candy smile grows as Mingi starts tugging him towards the large wheel in the sky in response.
“I’d love to ride the ferris wheel.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The passenger car of the ferris wheel rocks precariously as Yunho’s back crashes against its wall, but Mingi all of a sudden isn’t scared of heights as he fumbles his way into the other’s lap in a desperate attempt to get another taste of his lips.
“Fuuuuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”
“Yeah?” Yunho laughs with a groan, hot and wet against Mingi’s chin, before that sinful sound turns into a pained wheeze when Mingi brings his knee down into the soft bits between his legs by accident. “Ah—Mingi my balls.”
“Sorry. Sorry.” Mingi whines softly as he tries to position himself on Yunho’s lap, but the passenger car is far too small and they’re just simply far too big. Yunho hums a moan when he brings a hand down to squeeze him through his jeans apologetically, and the sound makes Mingi’s head spin. sh*t, he can feel him getting hard. “Just wanna be close. Wanna touch you.”
It’s like everything that’s been leading up until now is all spilling out at once. Mingi would have liked to at least take Yunho to dinner first before finally getting his hands on him, but he’s sure as hell not going to stop now. Not when Yunho welcomes his desperate, grasping touches.
This time Yunho’s laugh is breathless as he brings a hand down to cover Mingi’s own. It stops his ministrations but gives Yunho something to grind up against all the same. He hums low and deep in his throat. “You can’t whip my dick out on the ferris wheel, Min.”
The idea of not whipping his dick out of the ferris wheel is honestly absurd. It must show on Mingi’s face because Yunho tips his head back with another chuckle as he rolls his hips up into his hand once more. “There isn’t enough time. f*ck. Feels good though. Keep your hand there for a little bit, yeah?”
“I can get you to come before we reach the bottom.” It’s pathetic how desperate Mingi sounds—how desperate he is for Yunho—but all the wet dreams he’s had since the start of the summer couldn’t hold a flame to the way it feels having Yunho under him now. In the real world. Real Yunho with flushed cheeks and bitten lips and co*ck heavy in Mingi’s palm. Mingi’s saliva is thick in his mouth. He’s practically drooling for it. “Let me suck you off. Won’t leave a mess, either.”
“You’re crazy.” Yunho’s breathy chuckles are too much. They’re all Mingi’s going to be thinking about for weeks. He’s going to get f*cking pavloved into getting hard every time Yunho so much thinks about laughing. “What the hell?”
But even so Mingi watches with big big eyes as Yunho brings up that big big hand to curl into the sweaty hair at the base of his neck, and it takes him a moment to realize Yunho is pushing him. Pushing Mingi down onto the floor of the passenger car and between his thick thighs. Mingi gets hard so quickly he gets a head rush. f*ck. “You really think you can make me come that fast?”
“I know I can.” Mingi smoothes his hands up and over the expanse of Yunho’s thighs, and he’s surprised he doesn’t break his f*cking neck with how fast he nods. The ferris wheel creaks and groans as it begins to move again. They inch higher and higher before it decides to lock its brakes once more.
There’s only so long before they’ll reach the top, and from there it’s only so long before they reach the bottom. Mingi’s suddenly hit with the desperate need to get Yunho’s co*ck in his mouth now.
“Please?” Like, f*ck. He’s resorted to begging, but it punches a groan out of Yunho’s chest, so maybe the embarrassment of how bad Mingi wants to f*ck him is worth it. He buries his face into Yunho’s groin to hide his burning cheeks, and his jeans are rough against Mingi’s skin as he nuzzles against the thick heat of him. “I’ll be quick. I’ll be good.”
“Trust me, I have no doubts about that.” Mingi’s lips part with a sigh as Yunho presses a thumb against them, but that sigh is quick to turn into a mewl when he hooks said thumb into the side of his cheek.
That’s how he tugs Mingi’s head back up to look at him, and once his face is in view, Yunho shoves two fingers into his mouth to spread it wide. He curses when Mingi chokes on the intrusion of his fingers. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Get your mouth on me, Min. Make me come before we reach the bottom.”
Mingi’s hands are shaking so much that Yunho brings his own down to help him with the stubborn button of his jeans. There’s no finesse, and honestly Mingi’s a little too rough with his attempt of getting them down enough to free Yunho’s co*ck, but it only makes the air between them more charged. He’s feeling deranged. A little feral.
There’s that damn laugh again, and by the time they get Yunho free from his underwear the ferris wheel jerks back into motion.
They climb higher into the sky as Mingi leans forward with spit slick lips to trace them up the side of Yunho’s co*ck. Precome warm and salty against his pallet. Mingi licks it all away with a broad sweep of his tongue.
“We’re at the top now,” Yunho warns as he buries both hands into Mingi’s hair again. He lets Mingi press and lick and tease only so much before he’s guiding his head right up to where he wants him. “Suck, baby.”
There’s no question, no hesitant nerves, no time for foreplay, just pure want as Mingi wraps his plush lips around the head of Yunho’s co*ck. Eyelashes flutter shut as he presses his tongue into the underside of Yunho’s head, and he’s rewarded with the most delicious moan. Finally. Finally.
“There we go,” Yunho murmurs gentle and fond as he guides Mingi’s head down farther. As he guides himself deeper into the back of his throat. Mingi’s gaze flicks up just in time to watch Yunho’s eyebrows furrow with a crooked smile, and the sight of it makes him moan desperately around him. Makes him open his throat up for him even more. “Suck more–Ah. Yeah. Yeah, that’s good. You’re doing so good. Keep swallowing.”
f*ck, okay. So Yunho is a talk-you-through-it kind of guy. Mingi’s ears burn red at the revelation and praise, and he makes a silent promise to give Yunho the best dick sucking of his life.
Yunho never takes his hands off Mingi’s face. Keeps his fingers curled in his hair. Keeps guiding Mingi down deep and slow in a way that makes his head spin.
It’s like he’s slowly working Mingi up to taking his co*ck fully, and Mingi groans broken and wet around him once he realizes. It causes Yunho’s hips to kick, but he holds Mingi’s head in place even as he chokes softly around him.
“f*ck, you’re so good. Look at you. Stick your tongue out more. Watch your teeth, baby.” Yunho laughs through a stuttered moan. “You really open up so easily, hm? It’s like you were made for taking my co*ck, Min.”
God, was he. Everything Mingi has done in his life, every day that he’s lived, was all just to lead him to this exact moment. He almost wants to cry when he feels the ferris wheel jerk into motion again, but it seems to kickstart Yunho too.
“Can you go a little deeper? I know you can. Just keep your throat open—Mmm, like that. Just like that. sh*t, Mingi. You feel so f*cking good.”
Respectfully, f*ck everyone Mingi has ever shared a bed with, because it’s nothing in comparison to the reverant touch of Yunho’s hands in his hair and the choking press of his co*ck in the back of his throat. Mingi’s been ruined forever, he fears, but that won’t even matter as long as Yunho lets him do this again.
His eyes close content, satiated, satisfied as Yunho begins to roll his hips. All Mingi can do is hold on, fingers digging into the soft skin of his sides to anchor himself at least somewhere. Sex has always made him feel good, but sex with Yunho makes Mingi feel like he’s floating. Makes him feel like he’s not all quite there, but in a good way.
Like Mingi can just turn off his brain and give himself fully to Yunho kind of way, and he knows he’ll be just fine. He knows Yunho will take care of him.
Because he does. Sure, he’s keeping Mingi’s head down firmly to choke on his co*ck, but he also brushes his hair out of his face. He strokes Mingi’s cheekbones with the side of his thumbs. He offers a leg for Mingi to settle on, to grind against, because he wants Mingi to feel good too.
“You sure you want to swallow, Min?” Yunho’s voice is deep, heavy, strained, and Mingi shivers at the sound of it. That’s all because of him. He whines around him and can only hope Yunho understands his enthusiasm at the idea. “Yeah? Gonna let me come down your throat? God, you’re a dream.”
f*ck, he likes Yunho so much. Mingi likes him so f*cking much. He’s going to give Yunho whatever he wants.
“Gonna hold you still, okay? Gonna f*ck your mouth, Min. Remember to breathe through your nose. Yeah, yeah just like that. Good boy.”
Good boy. Mingi’s mind goes completely empty. All that’s there is the echoing sound of Yunho’s voice. Good Boy. Good Boy. Good Boy.
(Maybe Mingi’s the true puppy. Tongue out and drooling and waiting for praise.)
It takes a moment for Mingi to realize that the continuous whine he’s hearing is coming from him. It only spurs Yunho on, and his ears burn each time it’s cut off with a gag when Yunho rolls his co*ck deep into the back of his throat.
It’s good. He’s good. Tastes good. Feels good. Yunho’s a comfortable weight in Mingi’s mouth, the perfect fit actually, and idly he can’t help but wonder if Yunho’ll just let Mingi hold him in his mouth one day. Keep him warm until it becomes too much and he just has to f*ck his face again. God, he hopes so.
“f*ck,” Yunho groans deep, and his fingers tighten in Mingi’s hair to an almost alarming degree. He’s rougher with him now, like he can no longer control himself, and Mingi’s fingers dig deep into his sides with a punched out moan around him. Yunho laughs breathlessly like it’s all just too much.
Mingi tries his best to follow the push and pull of Yunho’s hands against his head, and he knows he’s drooling because everything is just wet wet wet. Spit pooling in the corner of his mouth. Spit running down the length of Yunho’s hard co*ck. Spit dripping down Mingi’s chin. It’s loud, and the sound of Mingi working hard to keep the suction of his lips tight around him makes his ears burn even more. It’s embarrassingly delicious.
Yunho’s head falls down between his shoulders with a heady moan at a particularly good press of Mingi’s tongue against his slit, and for a moment those thick thighs squeeze tightly around his ribs. “Holy sh*t, Mingi. You’re gonna make me come.”
And that’s all Mingi needs to really wrap his plush lips around him and suck. Yunho gives him back all the control in favor of slapping a hand to the roof of the passenger car to brace himself, and while his jaw is aching, it doesn’t matter because more than anything Mingi wants Yunho to come for him. He opens his throat, and finally, finally, swallows Yunho’s co*ck down the deepest it can go.
“Mmm, sh*t.” Another breathless laugh and Yunho’s touch is soft once more as he reaches out to cup Mingi’s jaw again. A thumb presses into the meat of his cheek. Like Yunho is trying to feel himself f*cking the inside of Mingi’s mouth. “Yeah, there you go. Just like that. I’m gonna come, Min. f*ck, I’m coming—”
When Yunho finally comes with a drawn out, stuttered groan there’s so much filling his mouth that Mingi can’t help but choke, but he’s good. He’s good and he’s going to swallow everything Yunho gives him. It’s warm. Warm and thick and seeping out of the corners of his mouth. But Mingi is good. He brings his fingers up to catch the milky droplets dripping down his chin and guides it all back into his full mouth.
Mingi barely has any time to swallow it all down before Yunho is hooking a hand around the back of his neck and dragging him back up onto the seat bench. When Yunho kisses him again it now tastes like cotton candy, and lemonade, and his own come. It’s addicting. Mingi wants more. He wants Yunho to taste like this forever.
“Oh god,” He moans brokenly against Yunho’s lips, because those large hands he’s come to love snake between his parted legs to press a rough palm against him. The ferris wheel begins its final descent, and this time it’s Mingi bracing a hand against the ceiling as he grinds up against the hand that’s offered to him.
Mingi’s voice is f*cked raw, croaky, deeper than usual when he pants out against Yunho’s lips, “I like you. I like you.”
He can feel the deep curve of Yunho’s smile. “Yeah? I like you, too.”
Mingi’s never come so quickly. Has never come so hard. He doesn’t even give a sh*t that he’s going to have to walk around with come in his pants, because Yunho is still stroking him firmly through his jeans and helping Mingi ride through it.
Their foreheads knock together audibly as Mingi comes down, and Yunho laughs through a hiss of pain. “Jesus, Min. Are you trying to give me a concussion?”
“Sorry,” Mingi mumbles stupidly, not sorry at all. In fact, he doesn’t even realize what he’s apologizing for. He doesn’t know where he is. Doesn’t even know what time it is. All he knows is, once again, Yunho has made him dumb as f*ck. “...I think you just killed me, honestly.”
He jerks with a whine when Yunho gives a teasing pinch to his side. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? You did, in fact, make me come before the ferris wheel reached the bottom. Which, by the way—”
Yunho gently guides Mingi against his side in favor of tucking himself back into his jeans, and Mingi’s legs feel like jelly when he finally stretches them out as much as he can in the small space. With heavy, content eyes he watches Yunho cleans himself up the best he can.
The ferris wheel gives a final jerk and squeal of its brake. He and Yunho have finally reached the bottom. The attendant steps forward to assist with the door to let them out, and Mingi watches how Yunho gives them his award-winning smile when it opens. The smile he uses when he wants something.
“Sorry, do you mind if we go again?”
Mingi is, indeed, f*cked. But it is in a good way. f*cked in the best way.
He laughs dumb and stupid against Yunho’s lips when he’s once again pulled back into his lap the moment they’re high enough in the sky.
“Seonghwa’s going to be mad we’re late.”
“Mmm, yeah. Probably. Guess we’ll just both be in trouble together.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Mingi throws the scrub brush back into the soap bucket with a groan. His back aches. His knees ache. Even his damn fingers are cramping up.
The restaurant floors aren’t going to clean themselves, dumbass. He can hear Seonghwa’s haunting, taunting voice in the back of his head. Get back to scrubbing.
The ping of Yunho’s phone goes off before he hears his own, and Mingi wipes his sweaty hands on his pants to pick it up at the sound of Yunho’s muffled laughter. The multiple notifications of their group chat are worrisome. With a sigh Mingi sits back on his ass to open them up.
BEST ILLUSION PERSONNEL ONLY
Toothless
And don’t forget to redo all of the dressing cups too. Now that I’m thinking about it…they are already a day old.
Mountain Man
ㅋㅋㅋ wow hyung is so mean huh?
Sangie
Don’t let them forget about scrubbing the toilets
Jjong
the fry oil is pretty old too ㅎㅎ
Princess Minki
Don’t you guys have anything better else to do than give us more work?
WeeWoo
Oh? What was that? The ferris wheel f*cker is trying to get out of the side work when he was the one that was late?
Princess Minki
Hyung! Are you just going to let him talk to me like that?
Captain
sorry baby can’t help you this time ㅋㅋㅋ
Yunho starts chuckling again as Mingi closes out of the chat with a pout. He sends that pouted look the other’s way, and at least Yunho looks a little sheepish about laughing at him.
“...You have to admit ferris wheel f*cker was pretty funny.”
“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning, too?” Mingi picks up the scrub brush to throw it at him, but Yunho dodges it easily with a little spin. He stops wiping down the tables and booths in favor of taking place next to Mingi’s side instead. “You’re just as guilty as me!”
Yunho drops down into a squat, and the kiss he leans in to press against Mingi’s lips makes him forget why he was even mad in the first place.
Oh yeah. They kiss now. Like, regularly. Mingi can kiss Yunho whenever he wants, and Yunho just lets him.
Mingi only chases Yunho’s lips a little when he pulls away, and this time the chuckle Yunho lets out is one Mingi knows is because of him.
“You wanna take a break and makeout in the walk-in?”
Yunho has to reach out and catch him as Mingi slips on water in his haste to clamber up off the floor. “f*ck yeah.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Duckie, huh? Should I start calling you that?”
Mingi groans as he closes his bedroom door behind him and rests against it. He knew this was a bad idea, but his mom wouldn’t shut up the moment he mentioned Yunho’s name by accident.
In fact, he knows she still won’t shut up about it. Mingi will never hear the end of how the summer job she got him also resulted in getting someone he could somewhat confidently call his boyfriend now.
Said most likely boyfriend was now spread out on his bed comfortably after family dinner. Mingi can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed about not changing his Spiderman sheets when Yunho looks like that. Teenage Mingi would be frothing at the mouth if he knew in the future he’d have the most beautiful man in his bed.
It takes him a few moments of admiring before he finally replies, “Please don’t call me Duckie. My mom calls me that.”
“Hmm, true. It would be a little weird.” Yunho flops onto his back and holds his arms up towards the ceiling. Mingi knows it’s an invitation, and it takes no convincing for him to kick off his house slippers and join him. Yunho lets out a grunt as Mingi drops his weight onto him, but wraps his arms around him all the same. “I’ll have to think of something else, then.”
Mingi’s world spins as Yunho shifts them in roll. Now he’s the one pinned to the bed, and he can’t help the way his cheeks flush at the sight of Yunho looking down at him with that cheeky smile.
Nevermind. Teenage Mingi wouldn’t just be frothing at the mouth. He would need to be sedated. Present Mingi feels like he needs to be sedated. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. Get used to Yunho touching him. Yunho being with him. Yunho wanting him.
Mingi reaches up a hand to pinch the soft of Yunho’s side. “You’ve got your horny face on, dude.”
Yunho breathes a laugh as he leans down to brush their lips together, and Mingi melts. “Kind of hard not to when I’m in your bed and you’re under me.”
“No. No no. Don’t make me horny when my mom is downstairs. Have some tact.”
Yunho’s smile grows against his lips, and Mingi is a weak, weak man. He’ll admit that. It should only be expected that he’d give Yunho his way in an instant.
He reaches up to curl his fingers into Yunho’s hair just as the other drifts his fingertips up and under Mingi’s shirt.
“...Are you sure?”
“Ugh. Just kiss me again already.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“I was right, you know.”
Wooyoung’s hip knocks against Mingi’s own as they polish the last bin of silverware. The restaurant was winding down as they worked towards closing, and the newfound quiet was a welcomed one. The kitchen was no longer a bustle of busy, just them, and Jongho’s soft singing to the old radio playing above the grill.
Mingi places a shining fork in a stack with all the others. “Oh yeah? What were you right about this time?”
“About Yunho. I was right. You can say it. I won’t tell the others.”
Well…Wooyoung wasn’t wrong. In fact, he wasn’t wrong about any of it. Yunho was exactly his type. Yunho was a puppy that kissed with his entire mouth. And Mingi was, indeed, embarrassingly gone for him.
“Hmm.” Mingi knocks Wooyoung’s hip back. “You were right, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung rests his head against Mingi’s shoulder and picks up another fork to polish. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it…Hongjoong also owes me 20 bucks.”
Mingi laughs softly. “You’re such a sh*thead.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Golden hour has always been Mingi’s favorite time of day, but even more so now because he gets to witness Yunho in it.
Yunho with his pretty sunburnt cheeks and constellations of freckles. Yunho with his big brown eyes that shine when the sun hits them just right. Yunho’s honey-tan skin that Mingi wants to kiss all the time. That Mingi gets to kiss all the time.
Because he gets Yunho in the golden hour. He gets Yunho right before the sun rises. Mingi gets him after the sun sets, too.
He wishes his phone wasn’t dead. Wishes he had a camera on him. Just so he could keep the image of Yunho driving for the rest of his life. Arm hanging out of Hongjoong’s VW bus. Windows down and hair wild. Fingers surfing against the air to the beat of the song that’s playing on the radio.
Like, sh*t. Mingi’s not so sure he’s not falling in love. That he’s not already in love.
Because he might be when Yunho disconnects their hands to shift gears only to reconnect them back together not seconds later. Already in the process of falling more than he’s ever fallen before when Yunho tilts his head back to belt out lyrics he doesn’t even really know. Love sick and disgusting each time that puppy-sweet smile is sent his way instead of paying attention to the damn road.
It’s an odd revelation to have when you’re doing nothing more than picking up kitchen appliances for the place you work. Usually it’s in the rain, or after a large fight, or some other cheesy location that you only find in movies. Not in your best friend’s borrowed car. And certainly not on the job.
Mingi thinks he loves him.
And the way Yunho tries to time every red light they sit at even though he almost always gets it wrong.
Mingi does love him.
And the way Yunho lets out a loud laugh that gets drowned out in the wind when he sings another lyric wrong. How is he singing the wrong lyrics to IU?
f*ck. Mingi loves him.
Especially the way Yunho picks up his hand while they sit at a stoplight for no other reason than to just press his lips against the inside of Mingi’s wrist.
His ears only burn a little bit when Yunho catches him looking, and that crooked smile is something he’ll sear into his memory forever.
“What?” Yunho’s words are teasing. Reminiscent of that time they escaped the busy world for just a little bit in the walk-in together. “Do I have something on my face?”
Mingi shakes his head with a little smile. “No. Just looking.”
“Hmm, well.” Mingi’s smile grows just as Yunho’s does, and he reaches out to knock a fist into Yunho’s side playfully at his mocking. “These killer looks don’t come for free, you know.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Mingi—” Yunho starts playfully, like he doesn’t have Mingi on his hands and knees for him, rearranging his f*cking guts. “We really have to start f*cking in normal places. Maybe a bed?”
Mingi shakes as the head of Yunho’s co*ck delivers a particularly harsh blow to his prostate, and he arches his back deeply in an attempt to keep Yunho right there, legs spreading more to accommodate him. He doesn’t even care that the carpet in the trunk of Hongjoong’s borrowed VW bus is dingy as f*ck, because Yunho’s hands are a hot brand around his hips, and each deep, punching thrust into him makes Mingi forget where he is anyway.
Yunho smoothes a large palm across the notches of Mingi’s spine before he pushes down between his shoulder blades. It makes Mingi arch for him even more, body bowing, ass up all for him and him only. He buries his face into the carpet to try and muffle the loud, broken moans Yunho is all but ripping out of him. “Yes yes yes.”
“So enthusiastic.” Yunho teases as thrusts back in, and this time, for a moment, he keeps himself deep in the warmth of Mingi’s body. His leg jerks at the insistent grinds, eyes rolling when he feels Yunho press his thumb against his fluttering hole wrapped around him. “The idea excites you that much?”
“f*ck, Yunho.” Mingi whines. Yunho hums softly in response and pulls out. It’s one, two, three excruciatingly long seconds before he’s snapping that delicious co*ck back into him, Mingi’s thighs jiggle with the force of it, and he’s pretty sure he’s drooling again. “f*ck me. f*ck me.”
Yunho laughs at him, because of course he does, but at least he keeps his hips moving while he does. Mingi’s head knocks into the trunk door of the van on a punishing thrust, and he brings a hand out to brace himself against it. He should have done this ages ago, honestly, because now Mingi can grind himself back to meet Yunho’s deep thrusts half way. The other groans deep as he clenches around him. “I am f*cking you, Min.”
Not enough. It’s never enough. Mingi needs Yunho f*cking him dumb 24/7. Needs that thick co*ck inside him like he’ll die if it’s not.
“Death due to no co*ck,” Yunho hums through a low teasing moan, and Mingi realizes that he might just be babbling his nonsense thoughts out loud now. “Well, we can’t have that can we? I like you alive, you know.”
With that Yunho leans down against the arch of Mingi’s back, and now he’s well and truly pinned underneath him. It gives the larger man the leverage he needs, and the fast slap of Yunho’s hips against his own rings out in the van around them. It only adds to the noisy, loud moans tumbling past Mingi’s lips. Adds to the burning warmth in his ears, and the burning desire making knots of his insides.
Mingi sobs as Yunho wraps those favorite fingers around his weeping co*ck, writhes in Yunho’s firm hold, and his legs shake in the anticipation of coming his f*cking brains out.
(Sorry, Hongjoong. He’ll make it up to you once he regains any semblance of thought.)
And like every bad romcom ever Mingi babbles, “I like you. I like you. I love you.”
“Yeah?” Yunho’s stuttered moan is breathy in Mingi’s ear. Tinged with the smile he’s still wearing on his face. He’s close. Mingi wants nothing more than for Yunho to come inside of him. “I love you, too.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Captain has changed the group chat name to:
YUNGI HAVE NO SELF CONTROL AND NEED TO BE PUT DOWN
Princess Minki
Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic, hyung?
Captain
you really think that’s a good argument to start when i’ve got cum in the back of my van?
Yu²
Hyung says like he hasn’t had Seonghwa in the same position.
Literally.
WeeWoo
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ he’s got you there
Toothless
Why am I being dragged into this?!
Jjong
The casualty of war, hyung ㅎㅎ
Sangie
This is why you can’t tell San anything. He can never keep a secret to save his life.
Princess Minki
Yeah, San! Why aren’t you out here helping us wash this damn thing?
You little snitch.
Mountain Man
I can’t read suddenly. Sorry. ㅋㅋㅋ
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Mingi can hear Wooyoung screeching across the shore, and Hongjoong’s loud stuttering laughter. San is singing drunkenly along with Jongho from their respective places around the bonfire, and Mingi doesn’t need to see Seonghwa or Yeosang to know they’re having their daily work debrief on their usual blanket laid out on the sand.
He must have drank a little too much. It can only be the reason why Mingi is standing out hip deep in the ocean in his feelings. And boy, is he feeling. Big Feelings.
Because summer is coming to an end, and with summer coming to an end that means no more Illusion. Imagine that, right? Mingi being bummed about the fact he can no longer work his summer job.
But no more Illusion means no more late nights avoiding doing sidework so the group of them can stay together just a little bit longer before having to go home. No more Illusion means no more s’mores. No more bonfires. No more freezing their asses off skinning dipping in the middle of the night. No more Illusion means that Mingi has to go back to the real world, now. With his people, hopefully, but without the freedom of just being.
Of just being them, and just being them together.
Because f*ck—Mingi loves them, too. Almost if not the same as how much he loves Yunho. Which is a lot, by the way. A whole f*cking metric-ton of love to give.
Mingi’s got half the mind to waddle back to shore just to make each of them promise that they’ll stay together forever. Not just for the rest of the summer, but for the rest of their lives too. Mingi can already picture the way Jongho will start gagging the moment those words leave his mouth.
“What are you thinking about over here, hm?”
The ocean ripples softly around his hips as Yunho swims back up to him, and Mingi blinks his eyes open just in time to watch the way the other reaches out to pull him against his chest. It’s second nature for Mingi to wrap his legs around Yunho’s waist now, and he clings to him like a needy koala. Yunho soothes his hands down Mingi’s sides.
“Summer is almost over.” His voice is pouty, and it makes Yunho smile where he’s nuzzling against Mingi’s cheek. “I’m going to have to go back to the real world, soon.”
Yunho’s voice is teasing when he says, “You sound like a cliche teen movie right now.”
And Mingi whines back, “I feel a cliche teen movie right now!”
The cool water licks against Mingi’s hips as Yunho begins to guide them, slowly, back to shore. He feels the way Yunho noses down the side of his neck, and the soft kiss he presses down against Mingi’s shoulder makes him shiver.
“Don’t get me hard while I’m in my feelings, Yuyu. That just feels wrong.”
Yunho laughs that deep chested laugh against him. “Sorry, it’s just cute. The others would be losing their sh*t right now if they could hear you. They’d never let you live it down.”
Mingi knows that’s the truth. They would throw Mingi’s gooey filled, candy sweet words back in his face all the way to his grave. And that just makes Mingi love them even more.
“I’m just—I’m going to miss you guys. A lot.”
“Mingi,” Yunho starts, and just by the tone of his voice Mingi knows he’s going to get teased again. He brings a hand down from around Yunho’s shoulders to pinch his nipple. “Ouch—Min! I was just trying to say that we’re not, you know, we’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m being a sentimental baby, okay?”
“You are being a sentimental baby—Ouch! Stop pinching my nipple, you heathen.” Yunho finally scoops Mingi’s hand up in favor of threading their fingers together instead. Mingi pouts as he kisses the inside of his wrist.
“You’re stuck with us.”
“It sounds like you’re threatening me, Yuyu. Is that a threat?”
“A promise, unfortunately. You’re not going to get rid of us now. No take backs.”
As if Mingi ever would.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“...Is Gyuwook crying right now?”
Seonghwa purses his lips in a pitiful attempt at quelling his laughter. Mingi watches the way his cheeks get red because of it, and he keeps his head down while he continues to fold napkins. “He’s feeling some type of way because it’s our last night all together as—What did he call us? The Summer Crew.”
Huh. So their manager does have more emotions than just bored and tired. Mingi watches with wide eyes as the older man drags Wooyoung against his chest to pet his head.
“Should we help him?”
“Oh no. No no. He does this every year, and Wooyoung is just as bad as he is.”
It rings true. Mingi expression melts into one that’s incredulously fond as Wooyoung’s lower lip starts to wobble. What a f*cking crybaby.
“Oh great.” Yeosang sighs as he starts traying up the food Jongho is placing onto the warming station. “Now he’s got Wooyoung crying, too.”
“I think it’s cute.” San muses as he steals a french fry off a customer's plate. “It’s basically tradition at this point. Is it really the end of summer if they’re both not crying?”
“Oh—I’m going to miss you guys.” Gyuwook warbles.
Wooyoung sniffles his snot loudly. “Not as much as I’m going to miss you!”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Goddammit, you two!” Jongho complains loudly as Mingi and Yunho step into the small barbecue place close to campus. “Is it so f*cking hard for you to show up on time?”
Yeosang smirks like a content cat and holds out the palm of his hand. “Language, Jongho. Now give me my ten bucks.”
Mingi blinks as he unwraps the scarf from around his neck, and Yunho helps him make quick work of his jacket so he can hang them off the back of their chairs. “What did we do?”
Hongjoong is already making their plates, and he shoves a bowl of rice Mingi’s way once he sits down. “They made a bet to see if you’d be late. I said Jongho was dumb betting against the fact that you would be. And I was right. Wasn’t I right, Hwa?”
Seonghwa hides his smile against the rim of his beer bottle. “You were right, Joong.”
Wooyoung snickers from where he’s curled up against San’s side, and San sneakily steals a piece of meat off his plate while he’s not looking. “Dumbass.”
Yunho looks exasperated when Mingi blinks those dumb eyes his way, and he rolls up the sleeves of his turtleneck before reaching to take the meat tongs out of Hongjoong’s hand to start cooking for him.
Oh, yeah. Turtleneck. Because fall is making its cool windy way, and the first week of school has finally come to an end.
And you know what? It wasn’t the end of the world. Because Seonghwa and Hongjoong make them get together every weekend, and they still spend days late into the night together—Even if they’re going to be tired as sh*t in class the following morning. Wooyoung and San never leave his and Yunho’s apartment, and Yeosang and Jongho coincidently live right down the hall.
Soulmates actually might be a real thing. Fate, too. Because that can only be the reason why he still has his most favorite people around.
f*ck, look at him getting all sappy again.
Maybe Mingi should tell his mom she was right. She was right about all of it.
“Seriously, is it impossible to keep it in your pants? Do you have to be f*cking 24/7? Because that’s why you were late, wasn’t it?” Jongho keeps going.
Yeosang sighs and presses a hand against his forehead. “Oh my god…”
Yunho nudges Mingi’s side softly with his elbow before reaching across the table to plop some meat onto Jongho’s plate. “Yeah, actually. I can give you the details if you want. We started in the—”
“Eugh! Eugh. Don’t. We’re in f*cking public.”
Mingi can’t help the way his smile grows, stupid and large and threatening to break free from his face. He feels good. Like really, really good. That gooey kind of feeling, again.
“You sure you don’t want to hear about how Yunho lifted my leg—”
“Stop! Stop! f*ck! I get it! Give me my damn meat, you monsters!”
Because he does belong here. He belongs right here with them. Right here against Yunho’s side.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Seriously. No take backs.
