Work Text:
When San’s phone pings two separate times within seconds, he knows something is up.
He’s sick, which is unfortunate, because there’s a huge party going on at Jackson’s tonight and he really, really wanted to go. But his immune system decided to veto that by giving him a splitting sinus headache and a sore throat. Right before a big test, too, which was just his luck. He’s on the tail-end of it now, at least, and he thinks he maybe managed to pass.
He grabs his phone, seeing one of the messages is a text and the other is a KKT message. He opens KKT first, seeing it’s from his new friend Mingi.
[Mingi]
I just walked into this party and some guy yelled dibs???
San snorts a laugh. He can’t say he’s surprised. He’d seen the selfie Mingi had posted on Instagram before he left for the party and he looked even more devastatingly handsome than usual, with his multicolored hair swept up dramatically and eyes rimmed with shadow and liner. It also helps that he’s so tall; he commands attention the moment he enters a room.
Before he can even respond, two more texts come through, so he opens the notifications. He sees it was his roommate, Yunho, that had been the other person texting him.
[Yunho]
IM KINDA BUZZED AND A REALLY CUTE GUY WALKED INTO THE PARTY AND I YELLED DIBS
[Yunho]
WHAT DO I DO?? IM HIDING IN THE KITCHEN
[Yunho]
SAN H ELP
San cackles so hard that his sore throat protests, and he groans before taking a sip of the hot tea on the nightstand next to him. He texts the same thing to the both of them, wishing he could actually be there to witness this glorious hilarity.
[San]
Shoot your shot!
***
Yunho hasn’t come out from his hiding place behind the kitchen island since he shouted ‘Dibs!’ when some obscenely hot guy he’s never seen before walked in, then promptly hid in shame. He’s such an idiot. Who calls dibs on an actual human being? Yunho after a single shot of soju and half a beer, apparently.
The door’s closed, now, and everyone seems to have gone back to their conversations, so it’s safe to say no one’s still actively trying to figure out who it was that shouted before. Good. He could do without the embarrassment.
He makes to stand, only to see the guy stepping around the corner into the kitchen, led there by Jackson, who’s likely just showing him where to find the alcohol. Their host is called away, however, so it’s just the incredibly attractive, unfamiliar guy standing there. He halts when he spots Yunho, having nearly tripped over him.
“Oh, hey, sorry man, didn’t see you there.”
Yunho bolts up to his feet, spine rigid as metal, and the guy seems to blink in surprise when they’re eye-to-eye, like he’s used to being the tallest guy in the room.
“H-hey! Hi! Um, could I, uh,” Yunho’s gaze darts around, lighting on the solo cups. “...get you a drink?”
“Is that your job tonight?”
“Not exactly, but I’m here, so.”
“I don’t know… someone called dibs on me before, so you might have to square up.”
“Oh… that was me. I’m sorry, I’m not usually so… uh…”
“—forward?”
“—much of an asshole.” Yunho says at the same time, and they both laugh.
“I didn’t think it was all that bad. Kinda flattering.” He smiles and it’s devastating , fuck , as he holds out his hand, “I’m Mingi, by the way.”
“Yunho.” He manages to respond without sputtering, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Mingi replies with a soft laugh, still wearing that smile. “So, how about you pour me that drink and we can discuss this whole ‘dibs’ claim of yours, huh?”
When Mingi raises an eyebrow suggestively, Yunho nearly chokes, and he fumbles to grab him that drink.
***
If you asked Yunho how he got here, he’d probably be a little hard-pressed to even say.
He knows he poured Mingi that drink, chatted about their majors and their hobbies and somewhere between Yunho rambling about video games and Mingi talking about his obsession with the twenty-four hour sauna he frequented, the two of them ended up in each others’ space. At some point, Mingi was practically in his lap and, despite his internal panic, Yunho wasn’t exactly discouraging him, shoving his hands into the back pockets of Mingi’s acid-wash jeans to drag him even closer, kissing him recklessly.
Yunho discovers too late that Mingi’s got a mouth made for sin. His lips are plush and gorgeous and his tongue is deadly. Somewhere underneath the taste of cheap beer is something that must be distinctly Mingi… something fresh like green apples, and he finds himself wanting to chase the flavor whenever it seems he might pull back. When he finally does, his lips are bitten-red, which should be a shade of lipstick. Mingi looks devastating.
Yunho swallows, not sure what he wants to say. He’s not sure he should even say anything at all.
Before he can, a voice rings out, something like “surprise shots!” and they each have their cups thrust back into their hands. Jackson Wang himself has appeared, pouring some kind of soju into the cups before moving down the line to the people sitting on the other furniture pieces nearby.
The way he beams at them, though, his gaze lingering for a moment… there’s a sort of genuine delight there that’s impossible to miss.
Yunho throws his back without a second thought, because it saves him from having to address the fact that Mingi is still very much in his space. It burns going down and he cringes, but it settles warmly in his gut after too long and he can’t offer too many complaints.
Mingi cautiously sips at his own, moving off of Yunho’s lap to settle next to him, though he’s still close enough that their thighs are touching and his body is turned toward him, one arm slung behind him over the back of the couch.
They watch as Jackson continues around the room, filling cups and laughing animatedly with his guests as he goes. He seems incredibly extroverted, bright and perfectly at home in the loud, crowded environment… as if he feeds off of the energy of it all. Yunho likes to party as much as anyone who wouldn’t describe themselves as reclusive, but even he can’t imagine hosting parties this large monthly, even weekly. But Jackson is so clearly in his element.
The two of them can’t help but follow his exit onto the back porch, apparently looking out for everyone who’s in and around the pool. Somehow, he hasn’t run out of alcohol.
“So, how do you know Jackson Wang?” Mingi asks after a moment, finishing off whatever’s left in his cup before setting it aside.
“Only by reputation.” Yunho admits, thankful that the next song on Jackson’s party mix playlist is a slow, sensual song that he doesn’t have to yell over.
“Okay, same!” Mingi laughs. He lowers his voice when Jackson returns indoors, now lacking the soju bottle. “He’s like the campus cryptid. No one knows what his major is, no one’s in any classes he’s taking… he might not even be a student? I know a guy who said one of the post-grads from like five years ago used to go to Jackson’s parties. So unless he’s taking like, one class per semester… he should’ve graduated long ago.”
“Maybe the guy just likes to party?” Yunho suggests dubiously. “I mean, if he’s not a student, why else live so close to campus and throw parties for students of your alma mater? Unless he’s got some kind of creepy ulterior motive…”
“What, like getting with drunk sorority girls or something? Shady.” Mingi says thoughtfully. “Doubt that’s it, though. I heard he’s spoken for, like in a ‘Jackson Wang is untouchable so don’t even try it’ kind of way?”
Yunho grimaces. “Why else would you throw these kinds of parties all the time, then?”
“He doesn’t throw them for himself.” Says some guy to their right.
The two of them turn to see a man who is frankly too beautiful to be real, but in a soft sort of effortless way. He looks like what any hopeless romantic would describe as an ideal boyfriend. He’s wearing a too-large hoodie and has a Nintendo Switch in one hand, a drink in the other. He doesn’t look like he’s here for the party.
Mingi flounders for a second. “Uh… who does he throw them for, then?”
The pretty guy shrugs, glancing sidelong toward the foyer where Jackson can be seen greeting another newcomer with all of his usual exuberance. There’s a sort of fondness in pretty-guy’s gaze as he looks on and… oh. Oh.
“He doesn’t always know who. He just gets this feeling and says it’s time to throw another. I don’t know. He’s kinda superstitious about it.” The guy shrugs. “It used to drive me nuts. But since getting some new noise-cancelling headphones, I don’t mind as much.”
“Oh, you live here? With Jackson?” Yunho asks.
“Yeah.” He says it around a laugh, smirking in amusement, and Yunho feels like he’s said something stupid.
When his eyes catch the silvery band glittering on the ring finger of the hand wrapped around a bright red solo cup, he realizes why. It’s the guy’s left hand.
Untouchable.
“Guess I can’t complain too much about the parties, though.” The guy says with a fond smile. “It’s how we met.”
Mingi has taken to absently playing with the hair at the nape of Yunho’s neck, and it distracts him from doing much more than nodding dumbly and gaping not unlike a fish.
“Anyway, I’m gonna head back up.” Pretty-guy tells them, tossing his head toward the stairs. “I just wanted a drink. You guys have fun.”
“Right, sorry.” Yunho replies, face red. “Nice meeting you, uh…?”
“Mark.” He answers with a wave, and then he’s gone.
Later, they hear mention of Jackson’s “gorgeous American husband” making an appearance —husband, Yunho repeats around a strained wheeze—and they both devolve into laughter over the utter ridiculousness of their budding conspiracy theories surrounding Jackson Wang.
The party doesn’t ever seem to start mellowing, though Yunho supposes the night is still young for a Friday. He makes a conscious decision not to drink any more, because he’s not trying to make a complete fool of himself… but regardless of his sobriety he still ends up twerking when his jams come on, then wearing a unicorn mask that’s getting passed around and shredding on a ukulele that isn’t his when one of his favorite songs blares through the speakers. He’s certain Mingi must have dipped out at some point during that whole display but when Yunho passes the mask on to its next victim and fluffs his hair back out, Mingi is still on that couch, just… looking at him.
His expression is unreadable in the dim light of the room. Yunho can’t tell if he’s trying to figure out what the hell Yunho’s malfunction is or if he’s just impressed. It could even be something else entirely.
There’s a bowl of candy in his lap, which Yunho assumes he stole from the coffee table. He snaps up a mint before setting it back on the table, looking as though he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.
Yunho is laughing when he returns to the couch, snagging a water bottle from a nearby cooler and chugging some of it. It helps to get the smell of cheap beer out of his mouth, since the mask smelled just like that plus a heavy dose of even cheaper plastic.
“You wanna get out of here?” Mingi asks him, standing before he can sit. Yunho is caught completely off-guard.
“Um… yeah… sure. Water?” He holds out the bottle and Mingi accepts it with a ‘thanks’, taking a slug as they head out into the street.
The block is quiet, which is eerie. It’s like stepping out of Jackson’s party is like stepping back into the real world. It’s jarringly silent.
Mingi hands back the water, which Yunho finishes. Mingi pulls out his phone, and Yunho focuses on trying to find a recycling bin and not peeping at his screen. Which definitely has KakaoTalk open. Fuck. He needs to not do that. So what if he’s messaging someone else right now? Maybe he’s just updating his roommate so the guy knows he’s not dead.
Yunho finally finds a plastics-only bin and tosses the bottle in before pulling out his own phone, trying to be chill. He can be chill. He’s totally chill.
His messages to San are all in caps. He is not chill.
***
San’s phone had gone eerily silent for hours, and it doesn’t ping again until nearly one a.m., with a message from Mingi.
[Mingi]
Turns out dibs guy was really cute and hilarious, we talked all night. This never happens to me?? What alternate universe did I step into?
There are several more chirps from his phone, this time a flurry of texts from Yunho.
[Yunho]
OH MY GOD THE GUY !! I CALLED DIBS ON !! SOMEHOW DID NOT REALIZE IM A HUMAN DISASTER ??
WE SPENT ALL NIGHT TALKING AND WE KINDA MADE OUT
FUCK HE’S SO HOT SAN IDK WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF
It’s rare to get both sides of such a juicy story, and San doesn’t want to ruin it. He’s having too much fun. He texts Mingi nothing but some suggestive emojis before responding to Yunho.
[San]
I’m staying at Woo’s again tonight since he loves babying me when I’m sick
[San]
and Yeosang is staying w Seonghwa tonight anyhow
[San]
So our dorm’s all yours~
[Yunho]
Choi San I would die for you.
San laughs. He can, admittedly, be a little shit. He enjoys messing with his friends or teasing them, which is why he is thoroughly convinced Jung Wooyoung may, in fact, be his soulmate. But for all his annoying qualities, he is, above all, a fantastic wingman.
He sends those same suggestive emojis to Yunho, too, before silencing his phone and deciding to try to get some sleep.
***
Yunho swallows as he pockets his phone, noticing Mingi is still scrolling away on his. He looks up almost immediately, though, with his full attention, and that makes Yunho’s gut do somersaults.
“So, I don’t usually do this…”
Mingi smirks at him. “Oh, is this gonna be your second stellar attempt at a pickup tonight? Because I thought you said the dibs bit was already out of character, so you’d be two-for-two.”
“It was! It is, and I’m not… it’s just… uh.” Yunho huffs, swallowing the lump in his throat. “My roommate’s staying with his boyfriend for the start of break so if you wanted to come back to my place, you know, it’s uh. Vacant, or whatever.”
“Mm, so you’re telling me you don’t usually invite guys back to your dorm?” Mingi leers, teasing. “Is that just ‘cause of the roommate, or—?”
“Not just because of my roommate.” Yunho says defensively. “He’s basically always at his boyfriend’s anyhow because his boyfriend’s roommate is bad at setting boundaries.”
“But you’re not?” Mingi asks, curious. “...bad at setting boundaries?”
“I mean, no, I’m terrible at setting boundaries with him. He’s got like four-dozen plushies that take up most of his bed so he’s always climbing into mine and, you know, it’s fine he keeps it platonic, whatever, but he’s also always stealing my food and copying my homework or hogging the T.V. so the one thing I refuse to give ground on is constantly being sexiled.”
Mingi laughs like the sound was stolen from him. “So your roommate stays with his boyfriend a lot, and you don’t take advantage?”
“Sure I do, by getting some peaceful fucking sleep and playing video games. Oh and sometimes I move the furniture to run through my routines if I’m too lazy to go to the practice rooms across campus.”
Mingi grins at him. “Right, dance major.”
“Yeah.” Yunho mumbles lamely. “But otherwise, no, I don’t… take advantage by inviting people over. Usually.”
“Except me.”
“Except you.” Yunho says, his voice a little raw.
They’ve reached the dorm. Mingi’s just following along, looking as though he has no intention of bailing. Yunho can’t understand it for the life of him.
They make it to his door, and Yunho starts rambling a little, nervous. His fingers shake as he goes to punch in his code.
“So you know, I’m not… I mean, you don’t have to— we don’t have to, uh… we can literally just play video games or whatever? You just seem really cool and—”
“Yunho?”
He startles a little, punching in the wrong number. The device squawks at him judgmentally.
“Uh huh?”
Mingi grins, leaning in close and tossing his head toward the dorm room. “If you get me through this door… we aren’t playing video games.”
Yunho swallows, glancing at the keypad as he waits for it to turn green again. “What do I… have to do to get you through this door, then?”
Mingi chuckles, and his grin looks more like a smirk, now. “You might wanna try opening it.”
Yunho nods, taking his time punching in the code. The lock chimes much more kindly, and when he turns the knob, it gives.
They get as far as the entryway, as far as kicking off their shoes habitually, before Mingi is pressing him back against the now-closed door, knocking the air out of his lungs. He kisses him breathless of whatever he has left in his chest, shoving right into his space.
Mingi only pulls back long enough to rip off his own shirt. He drops it on top of the shoes, probably so he can find it easily enough, then leans back in like he isn’t the hottest fucking guy Yunho has ever seen. His shoulders are so broad but his waist, his waist is so obscenely tiny, Yunho wonders if his fingertips could almost touch when he sets his hands on either side. He can’t help but to just… gape for a second, or twelve.
He doesn’t know what fantasy world he’s stepped into, but he’s not certain anymore that he’s actually conscious. If he is, surely Mingi must be some kind of malicious entity with some foul ulterior motive. He could be a vampire, or an incubus, or—
“Did I lose you?” Mingi asks, pulling Yunho out of his stupor.
“Uh, yeah. I mean, no! Not… uh.” He huffs, his eyes still wandering. “I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t some fever dream?”
Mingi laughs, shaking his head. He wraps a hand around Yunho’s wrist, pulling him toward the bed that isn’t piled high with plushies and shoving Yunho down onto it. Yunho really hadn’t been kidding about his roommate collecting them. He goes without protest, and Mingi settles next to him, looking hesitant for the first time that night.
“Can I let you in on a secret?”
Yunho feels nervousness bubble up in his stomach. “Y-yeah? I guess?”
“I’m really not cool. Like, at all. My chill is completely fake.” Mingi tells him.
“Huh?”
He takes a breath, and then he just… unloads.
“I was such a dorky fucking loser in high school but then I grew like thirty centimeters and my skin balanced out some and I finally figured out how to put contacts in and suddenly people start treating me like I’m hot and I don’t know how to handle it? So I dunno, I act like I’m a cool guy! You know, cool guy Mingi! He’s so chill! But I’m not. I’m kind of a loud, obnoxious idiot. I have a collection of those slime toys in all sorts of different colors and I don’t know how to pose in group photos so I just end up doing this weird sunfish face? Have you ever seen a sunfish? They look so clueless—”
Yunho’s mouth hangs open dumbly. “Um.”
“I know I come across as cool or whatever but I just do that so I don’t scare people off with my weirdness? But you just… you’re so… I don’t know, you’re so confident and out there and you just energize everyone around you.”
Yunho’s face softens. “I’m just… I dunno. Being myself?”
“I know!” Mingi bleats, strained. “And that’s so… fuck, when you were horsing around in that unicorn mask I legit dug through the candy bowl looking for a ring pop so I could fucking fake-propose to you? Because holy shit that was simultaneously the cutest and wildest thing I’ve ever seen in my life?”
Yunho lets out a wheeze. “... what?”
“Anyway I’m just trying to be honest because I really like you and like, we should definitely fuck right now but I would super love taking you out on a date sometime? Several dates? Date me? Please?”
Yunho blinks, sputtering momentarily. He can’t believe he managed to find the one guy on campus who isn’t completely turned off by his ridiculous antics. “You wanna… date me? Me?”
“Fuck yeah! I don’t actually bring a lot to the table myself, I told you I’m not actually cool. I’m kind of a slob and I’m really lazy I love sleeping more than any reasonable person should but I promise I’ll drop the cool guy act and let myself laugh at all your jokes and… maybe I should have waited until after… to say all this…” He peters off suddenly, and it’s the first time he’s fallen quiet in several minutes.
“No, I…” Yunho flounders momentarily, resting a hand on Mingi’s thigh. He has to actively try not to shiver because it’s a very nice thigh. “I’m kinda glad you said something? Because I don’t think I ever wanted just a one-night thing with you.”
“Really?” Mingi asks, brow furrowing. “Because here I’m thinking this isn’t really fair, me throwing all this on you… I’m not remotely boyfriend material, at all. I’ll sleep in forever if you let me and I’m really bad at cooking, like… so abysmally bad, but I can wake you up with a blow job and I make great coffee.”
All the air leaves Yunho’s lungs. “Mingi what the fuck?”
“Sorry, do you not like coffee? Are you like an herbal tea person? Smoothies?” Mingi trails off thoughtfully, but suddenly snaps his fingers. “Wait, gamer! Energy drinks?”
Yunho scoffs. “Mingi shut up oh my god, I literally was not stunned by the fact that you make great coffee you fucking dork—”
“So it’s a go on the coffee?” Mingi clarifies. “What about the—”
Yunho growls, more frustrated than angry, and rolls up to straddle Mingi’s hips, kissing him silent.
Mingi’s surprised little hum does not come across as a complaint.
For all his supposed irritation —supposed because he is not, in fact, irritated… just overwhelmed—Yunho kisses Mingi like he wants to learn everything there is to know about him.
It isn’t long before Mingi is pawing at him, letting his hands wander. When they skirt along the hem of his shirt, Yunho looks down. Mingi’s eyes meet his, brows rising in question, and Yunho nods. Only then does Mingi strip off his shirt, tossing it away. Yunho is secretly relieved when it lands on his roommate’s bed, covering up a shiba inu plush that was—as far as he’s concerned—staring judgmentally from the nest of pillows.
The rest of their clothes follow in a flurry of fabric and long-limbs. Yunho isn’t used to being with guys his size… at least not as tall.
Mingi struggles a little with Yunho’s jeans, the two of them trying to synchronize a good yank with Yunho raising his hips. When they finally come off and reveal Yunho’s plaid boxers, a laugh bubbles up in Mingi’s throat.
“W-what?” Yunho asks self-consciously, face reddening.
“No, it’s not—I was just reminded of this joke.” Mingi assures, waving off the concern.
Yunho’s concern is very much not waved off. He bites his lip and swallows, self-conscious.
Mingi’s face crumples. “No, really! I wasn’t laughing at you! It was… just this joke I remembered.”
Yunho stares, half doubtful and half expectant.
“I’m serious! It was about this bartender that has a pet octopus that he claims can play any instrument in the world better than a pro! So all sorts of people bring in their instruments to test this octopus and sure enough he plays everything like a pro. Trumpet, flute, guitar, piano… he’s like a tentacled Mozart. So anyway, this guy one day wants to give him a big challenge and brings him a bagpipe all the way from Scotland. So he hands it over and the octopus just sorta turns it over, feels it out, spinning it all around in its tentacles but not playing it. And eventually the bartender is like, ‘what the hell, just play the damn thing!’ And the octopus says, ‘play it? As soon as I figure out how to get its pajamas off, I’m gonna fuck it’!”
The room goes disturbingly, eerily silent for several long seconds.
“I—you know, because they’re, like… plaid? And have those—” Mingi pokes his fingers out in two separate directions, mimicking the apparently tentacle-like pipes on the instrument.
After another three seconds, Yunho bursts out in a fit of raucous laughter.
Mingi’s worried expression falls away, and he smiles proudly, all teeth, as he watches Yunho wipe tears from his eyes as he rolls on the too-small bed.
“Oh my god… that was… that was hysterical… I don’t even care that we’re both mostly naked and you completely killed the mood.” Yunho tells him, still laughing through deep, measured breaths.
“Did I? Completely?” Mingi asks, pouting.
Yunho nods around a stray giggle, almost looking regretful, the way he presses his lips together and shrugs.
“Aw… that’s too bad.” Mingi pouts, though it stretches into a smirk as he climbs over Yunho, sliding his hands into the waistband of those plaid boxers. “Because as soon as I figured out how to get these off of you, I was gonna fuck you.”
Yunho laughs again, but from the way he blushes and bites his lip, then pulls Mingi in for another kiss… he thinks the mood may not be entirely lost.
Mingi does figure out how to get him out of those boxers, eventually. He figures out a lot of things about Yunho, like how much he enjoys being spanked. The unbridled, pleasured sound that a single swat to his flank gets out of him clues Mingi in.
He also discovers just how flexible Yunho can be, coos about how bendy he is when he manages to push Yunho’s knees to his own ears while Mingi’s fucking him hard and deep. Yunho doesn’t even protest, just holds his legs there himself and takes, greedily.
Neither of them lasts particularly long, and they end up tangled together in a heap of sweaty limbs far too soon, Yunho teasingly asking Mingi to tell him another joke.
Mingi does, happy to indulge him. This one’s more of a pun, involving cows and lawsuits. Yunho laughs, but not as loudly as the first time. It’s probably for the best, since Mingi is rather enjoying their close proximity, the comfort of being wrapped up in each other.
“You should go easy on the jokes, I’m easily amused.” Yunho teases, kissing Mingi’s shoulder.
“You say you’re easily amused but I was the one ready to risk it all because a guy I just met threw on a unicorn mask and rocked out on a ukulele at a frat party.” Mingi counters.
Yunho’s face twists up a little, then, like he’s holding in a laugh. “Maybe, but still. Keep making me laugh too hard and I might start going horse.”
There’s a beat of silence as Mingi closes his eyes, then slowly inhales before exhaling a long, long breath.
“Yunho?”
“Y—” A stifled giggle—”Yeah?”
“I don’t know if I wanna strangle you or go find a fucking ring pop.”
Yunho can’t hold in his laughter, then, though it’s far more subdued. “Torn on whether you’ve found a kindred spirit or if you’re being fed a taste of your own medicine?”
“Something like that.” Mingi murmurs, grinning as he rolls over on top of Yunho, leaning down to kiss and nibble at his neck. “Though if it is just me being forced to suffer my own brand… I can’t say I hate the way it tastes.”
Yunho lets out a surprised hum, then, letting himself easily fall into step with Mingi. The two of them spend their sweet time exploring and letting their hands and mouths wander, as though they have all the time in the world.
It isn’t long before they’re both flustered and riled up again, Mingi rutting down against Yunho’s hip with increasing insistence.
“Mm, you wanna fuck me this time?” He asks, mouthing across Yunho’s shoulder.
Yunho’s eyes go a little wider. “Y-you bottom?”
“Sure, I’m into whatever.” Mingi shrugs. “Don’t think I’ll be able to still spank you, though… and you seemed to like that.”
Yunho blushes up to his ears and shoves Mingi like he’s offended, but that only causes the other to let out a peal of laughter as Yunho continues swatting at him. “Shut up, you jerk!”
“Listen! I’m not making fun of you! I’m into it!” Mingi counters. “What about you? You top, ever?”
“Yeah, I mean… I’m flexible.” Yunho tells him.
“I noticed.” Mingi leers, smirking.
Yunho huffs, swatting at him as he somehow manages to blush even deeper.
Still, he’s eager to show Mingi just how flexible he is, in every sense of the word.
***
Morning comes and with it, a visitor.
“Hello? Food fairy!” San’s teasing voice floats through the dorm as the front door slowly cracks open. He’s chipper, fresh off a fantastic night’s sleep on NyQuill.
Yunho and Mingi are on the kitchenette bar stools nursing coffees, and barely manage a grunt each in response.
“Okay well I didn’t hear any protests so I’m coming in, hope you’re not both naked!” He bursts in, grinning when he sees the two of them looking disheveled as all hell. He doesn’t miss the marks littering the both of them, nor the state of their hair. He’d have to be blind not to notice. “Good morning, boys! I come bearing pastries.”
“A hundred blessings upon your household.” Yunho replies dramatically, snatching the bag and digging in voraciously before even bothering to pass it along.
Mingi takes the bag, gaping. “Wait. You’re San’s roommate?”
“Yeah… you know San?” Yunho asks around a mouthful of sweet bready goodness, words a little garbled.
“Yeah, we had Chemistry together this past semester.” Mingi mumbles, nibbling on a croissant. “We just talked in class mostly, but then he asked me to go in on some scheme to help his boyfriend’s roommate get laid and now he texts me updates on their relationship like it’s something I care about.”
“Don’t forget, you also recommended your roommate for all our photography needs! He’s really come in clutch for a few projects in the friend group.” San reminds him.
“Oh yeah.” Mingi murmurs, thoughtful.
“And don’t even lie about not caring. Everyone loves juicy gossip, don’t even act like I’m not doing you a favor.” San bites back. “Besides, our little plan worked! They’re going to like… Saipan together or something during break, isn’t that fucking precious?”
“Saipan? What the fuck?” Mingi balks. “Yeosang mentioned the guy he was into had money but I was thinking like, you know, not surviving solely on packaged ramyun, not… hop a flight to a tropical fucking paradise for two weeks, what the hell? Maybe I shoulda been fake-flirting with what’s-his-name instead of Yeosang.”
“Hey…” Yunho murmurs, a little crestfallen. “Bored of me already?”
“Dunno, you gonna take me to Saipan?” Mingi teases, but when Yunho actually looks pretty melancholy, he laughs and shoves at him, then ruffles his hair until he’s grinning again. “I’m kidding. I only saw rich-boy from a distance but I’m sure you’re so much more handsome. And definitely taller!”
“His name is Seonghwa, holy shit, and I don’t know if there’s a human on this earth more handsome than him, but go off I guess.” San cuts in, snagging a pastry for himself. “Anyway, I just came to bring you sustenance and grab my stuff. Wooyoung has his apartment to himself for break since Yeosang and Seonghwa-hyung’s flight was this morning, so I will be spending all my time there without a trace of guilt.”
“Somehow I wasn’t sensing much guilt before when you were making Wooyoung sexile Yeosang.” Yunho quips.
San shrugs. “Maybe a smidgeon of guilt. An iota. A brief shadow of pity. But then Wooyoung takes his clothes off and poof, it’s gone. His ass is out of this world and those thighs—”
“TMI.” Yunho bleats, shooing at him. “Go, get out, go be with your little nymph you fucking sex gremlin.”
“I will, and I’m bringing a suitcase so please enjoy two weeks of San-free dorm living.” San pipes up, standing and clapping his hands. “You two can fuck as much as you want. Anywhere you want! Just bleach it afterwards. And don’t soil my plushies!”
Yunho gapes. “Oh my god San what the f—”
“Bye, love you, be gay do crimes eat ass!”
Yunho wails, mortified, but San is already out the door before he can formulate a protest.
It’s probably for the best.
Mingi is still coolly munching on his croissant, licking his fingers when he’s finished. Yunho tries—and fails—not to stare.
“I’m sorry, he’s like a fucking chaos demon, he has no brain-to-mouth filter. He just says shit to get a rise out of people.” Yunho apologizes, running a hand through his hair.
“Oh, so you’re not gonna eat me out on the kitchen counter or somewhere equally as adventurous?” Mingi asks, deadpan. The look in his eyes is not unlike disappointment.
Yunho sputters, letting out something akin to a strained wheeze.
“I mean, two weeks is a long time to have a break from your roommate…” Mingi adds casually.
Yunho would probably threaten to kill San, but only because Mingi is, at this rate, all but threatening to kill him.
(He does eat Mingi out on the kitchen counter and against his desk, and both receive a hefty bleach treatment before the day is done).