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Seungcheol really isn’t sure how he got roped into this.
“Hyung,” Mingyu calls, looking over his shoulder from where he was fumbling with the tripod with a huff and a glare. “Can you look like you want to be here just a little more?”
“I do not want to be here,” Seungcheol replies. Mingyu pouts.
And that’s how he got roped into this: the backlash he’d receive for not doing it is much more threatening than any level of humiliation he’s about to suffer from in front of this camera. Mingyu isn’t high maintenance per se, nor would he throw too big of a fit if Seungcheol were to actually say no. Just would huff and puff around the apartment and give Seungcheol the most subtle of cold shoulders.
(“You just can’t no to him,” Jeonghan eventually breathes out, once he’s finally calmed down from his laughing fit upon hearing that Seungcheol had agreed to do something called the Boyfriend Tag with Mingyu.
Seungcheol leans back against the booth with his arms crossed defensively. “What about it?” he grumbles out. Jeonghan just starts laughing again.)
“ Hyuuung ,” Mingyu whines, and Seungcheol immediately softens. He leans forward to kiss Mingyu’s cheek, gently rubbing at the curve of his jaw with his thumb, ignoring Jeonghan cackling at the back of his head. The corner of Mingyu’s lip quirks up in concession.
“It’s just, everyone’s been asking for a video with you for so long!” Mingyu explains, leaning into the touches.
“I’m in like, half, of your videos, Mingyu-yah.” Mingyu rolls his eyes.
“Those are vlogs , hyung. This is a proper video. All you have to do is answer some questions and look pretty. You’re good at both,” he replies, using a finger to slowly trace up the vine inked on Seungcheol’s right bicep. Seungcheol half-smiles, and Mingyu returns it, knowing the flattery has successfully goaded him into submission. Before Seungcheol has the chance to protest, he leans forward to press the record button on the side of the camera, quickly settling back onto the bed next to Seungcheol.
Mingyu does his cute little intro, and Seungcheol resists the urge to stare at him with what he knows are the dictionary definitions of heart eyes. Although, thinking about it, Mingyu would probably enjoy it, giving his fans some quality content. Yet, suddenly he’s been introduced, and he blinks rapidly a couple of times before waving with a small smile. Mingyu giggles and leans his head against Seungcheol’s shoulder.
“You’ve all met him before, but I finally got him to sit down and do a real video with me!” Mingyu tells the camera.
“Yeah, because you would’ve turned into a sulky baby for the next week and a half if I had said no,” Seungcheol replies. Mingyu pouts, again.
“Would not have,” he whines. Seungcheol makes a look at the camera.
“Point made.”
Much to Seungcheol’s surprise, Mingyu just grins and leans back in to poke into his dimple before pressing a kiss there. “You’re a natural, hyung.”
Seungcheol flushes and looks nervously back and forth between Mingyu and the camera. Mingyu laughs, waving him off. “I’ll edit this out, don’t worry. Seriously, you’re doing great. I won’t let you embarrass yourself, which won’t be easy, so you can thank me in advance.” He laughs again when Seungcheol glares at him. “Kidding, kidding. But you can actually tell me at any time if you don’t want to do this. I know it’s out of your comfort zone, but I want you to have fun too.”
Pure earnesty shines through his eyes, and Seungcheol softens impossibly more. He offers Mingyu a soft, placating smile, cupping both his cheeks and leaning in this time to press an equally soft kiss to Mingyu’s lips.
“No, no, I’m just joking around, of course I want to. Gotta stake my claim anyway, make sure no one gets any ideas,” Seungcheol replies, playfully. Mingyu rolls his eyes and pushes at Seungcheol’s shoulder, turning back to the camera.
“ Anyways , since so many of you have asked for this, and since I’m a little curious myself, today we’ll be doing the boyfriend tag! Basically, I’ll just be asking hyung a couple of questions related to me and our relationship and hope, for the sake of everyone involved, that he gets them right,” Mingyu explains. Seungcheol quirks up an eyebrow in amusement.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mingyu grins, turning his head to meet Seungcheol’s eyes with a playful glint in his own. “Well, let’s hope you don’t have to find out.”
“Do I get anything for getting them right?” Seungcheol asks, tilting his head to the side innocently. Mingyu shrugs.
“Depends on how well you do. Alright, first question, how long have we been together?”
“Three years and eight months. Been living together for seven months,” Seungcheol replies, instantly. Mingyu smiles, fondly.
“How did we meet?”
Now, Seungcheol smiles, the memory ever so vivid.
“You and your friends stumbled into my parlor on your 21st birthday. They had you practically restrained saying I had to give you a tat because it was the one thing you needed to do on your 21st. Except, I looked up into your eyes and you actually looked like you’d rather be jumping into a pit of lava. Yet,” he then turns to look at the camera, “he hopped up into my chair, and got one anyway. Said he was tired of running away from opportunities. I saw the genuine determination in his eyes, and gave him the tattoo.”
Mingyu grins, lifting up the hem of his t-shirt, revealing the small 97 above his left hip. “Made this channel the very next day,” he adds, “just after we went out for coffee for the first time.”
Seungcheol hums. “Still surprised you said yes.”
“Are you kidding? You terrified me. In the best way. All my middle school wet dreams come true.”
“Weirdo,” Seungcheol replies, with a snort, but he puffs his chest out with pride anyway.
“Okay, what’s the last thing I do before bed?”
“Hm, do you want the PG answer or the R rated one?” Seungcheol asks. Mingyu splutters and rapidly swats at his shoulder as Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head and holding a hand up to indicate he’s kidding.
(He’s not.)
“Next question!”
The rest of the questions are awfully simple, things Seungcheol can answer in an instant and he feels terribly proud of himself. It really isn’t too hard, being humorous for the camera. After all, his and Mingyu’s natural dynamic contains an awful lot of playful bickering, and that’s always amusing to everyone around them. More than anything, the pure joy on Mingyu’s face every time Seungcheol answers correctly, or to his satisfaction, makes every previous inhibition he had had worth it.
“My favorite video game?”
Seungcheol scoffs. “You don’t play , you just drape yourself over my chair and ask me a dozen questions about every little thing you see on the screen.”
“You never teach me!” Mingyu exclaims.
“Because you’d hate it.”
“But I wanna share some more of hyung’s hobbies!”
“No, you just want to prove me wrong that you’d hate it.”
“Fine, whatever. What are some foods I dislike?”
Again, Seungcheol scoffs. “I could put a deep fried tire on a plate for you and you’d eat it.”
Mingyu huffs. “I am really starting to regret this video.” Yet, he reaches over into Seungcheol’s lap and tugs at his hand, intertwining his fingers with his own without taking his eyes off the camera. Seungcheol’s lip quirks up, realizing the action must’ve been out of frame.
“Who’s my best friend?”
“Minghao. Who I’m convinced still has a death wish for me.”
Mingyu just shrugs. “Well, that’s a given.”
“Thanks for the reassurance.”
With a hum, Mingyu scrolls on his phone for the next question. Seungcheol cranes his neck over to get a look at them, grinning and pointing insistently at one. Mingyu flushes.
“What’s my favorite endearment?” he asks, looking at Seungcheol, nervously. Seungcheol grins again, eagerly looking back at the camera.
“Anything and everything . Gyu-yah melts under them, it’s the most adorable thing,” Seungcheol gushes. He taps his chin, pretending to be deep in thought before flashing Mingyu another soft smile. “But I think baby is the fan favorite. No one call him that, though, it’s reserved,” he adds, sternly. Mingyu laughs.
“Alright, alright, they get it,” he says, in feigned exasperation. But Seungcheol knows he secretly enjoys it, feeling Mingyu shyly play with the chain on Seungcheol’s wrist with his head low, blush high on his cheeks.
“Last question. What’s your favorite thing about me?”
Seungcheol perks up again at that, blinking a few times in genuine thought. He looks over at Mingyu — eyes are trained intently on him, curiosity and anticipation bright in his expression — and smiles, answer so clear that he wonders how it took him more than five seconds to realize it.
“I think it goes back to that first meeting: his determination. I’ve never seen someone so driven and motivated, genuinely so. I mean, it’s only been 3 years or so and he’s grown this channel to unbelievable heights. He doesn’t take no for an answer, not from anyone, including himself,” Seungcheol finally answers, unable to fight the smile that persists on his lips.
Mingyu doesn’t say anything for a few heartbeats, so Seungcheol turns back to look at him, seeing his slightly parted lips, wide eyes and raised eyebrows. It alarms Seungcheol, at first, worried he’s said something wrong, until Mingyu breaks out into a wide smile.
“Thank you, hyung,” Mingyu breathes out, and Seungcheol just wants to kiss him. Not that he doesn’t always want to do that. It’s a little debilitating, sometimes.
Not that he would have it any other way.
Turning back to the camera, Mingyu claps his hands together and does the outro, squeezing Seungcheol’s hand as he does so. Seungcheol waves at the camera and says the final chant of See you next time! with him.
“So, my reward? I think I did pretty good,” Seungcheol says, resting back onto his hands, once Mingyu leans forward again to turn the camera off. Mingyu looks over his shoulder with a wry smile.
“Whatever hyung wants,” Mingyu croons.
Admittedly, it didn’t turn out as bad as Seungcheol expected.
———
That doesn’t mean he wants to do it again, Seungcheol explains to Mingyu when the younger presents yet another challenge to him at breakfast a few weeks later.
“ Hyuuung ,” Mingyu whines, with an inflection so predictable that Seungcheol could likely mimic it to a T. “The last one did so well! If the people want more, what am I supposed to say, no ?”
“No, I am .” Mingyu huffs at that and aggressively stabs at his eggs with his fork, shoveling them into his mouth like they’ve personally offended him and eating them is the only way to get them out of his sight.
Seungcheol sighs, reaching forward across the countertop to pass the pan of eggs in Mingyu’s direction. “Baby, I don’t know the first thing about makeup. Plus, you stopped wearing it so long ago that I forget even watching how you used to do it.”
Yet, Mingyu just nods and eagerly slams his palm down on the table in agreement. “ Exactly , that’s the fun of it all! Don’t you realize how entertaining it’ll be to see you dumbed down by a makeup bag?”
“Entertaining at whose expense?” Seungcheol grumbles.
Mingyu then leans closer to Seungcheol on his barstool, both hands grasping Seungcheol’s arm as he stares up at the older with his most devastatingly crafted puppy eyes. After four years, Seungcheol would’ve thought he would be at least a little more immune to this look of pleading, yet, it effects him just as much as it did on that first date, when Mingyu used them to a secure a bite of Seungcheol’s decadent chocolate cake.
With a sigh, Seungcheol slumps his shoulders, relaxing into Mingyu’s hold, who squeaks in excitement, chanting a couple hundred thank yous as he peppers kisses all over Seungcheol’s face.
The Jeonghan in Seungcheol’s head falls off of his chair with the force of his laughter.
Three days later, Seungcheol finds himself yet again in front of Mingyu’s camera, staring down at the makeup bag that’s menacingly staring back at him. Mingyu emerges from the bathroom, dabbing the remnants of the base makeup he still wears from time to time off his face, his hair pushed back with a cute headband that gives him tiny, floppy puppy ears on either side of his head.
“Are you allowed to give me any hints?” Seungcheol asks, pouting down at the two brushes in his hand that look absolutely identical . Mingyu laughs.
“That would defeat the point of the challenge, silly.”
He’s so fucked.
“What if I permanently damage your face? That would be, like, a crime against humanity,” Seungcheol adds, untwisting the cap of something attached to a brush that’s covered in a black, goopy liquid that, for all Seungcheol knows, could go on Mingyu’s eyes or his nose.
Pulling the tube out of Seungcheol’s grasp, Mingyu rests his hand soothingly over Seungcheol’s, brushing his thumb slowly on the top. “You won’t. It’s makeup, not permanent marker, hyung.”
Seungcheol pouts again, looking up at Mingyu through his lashes. Mingyu smiles, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Seungcheol’s forehead, before pulling away to turn the camera on.
While Mingyu does the intro, Seungcheol mentally runs through the list of products he examined in the bag. He’s sure the things the color of Mingyu’s skin are the base makeup, and should therefore go first, and he thinks he found the eyeshadow. Everything else, which is just about the majority of the bag, is a complete, and utter mystery. Seungcheol gulps.
“How do you feel, hyung?” Mingyu asks, turning to look at Seungcheol, who laughs in self deprecation.
“Like I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
Mingyu swats at his shoulder in admonition. “You’re so dramatic. Just start already, you’ll be fine . I’m sure everyone will find your cluelessness as adorable as I know I will.”
Seungcheol sighs, deeply, and begins to sift through the bag for the tan colored powder he spotted earlier. He feels Mingyu’s heavy, curious gaze on him and desperately tries to ignore the way his hands shake around the small package.
Flipping it open, Seungcheol eyes the powder curiously, trying to understand how he should go about actually applying it, holding up two fingers pressed in question. Mingyu just shrugs in response. With a huff, Seungcheol goes back to the bag, retrieving a larger brush which he slowly lathers it in the powder. He tugs his bottom lip under his teeth and gently begins patting it onto Mingyu’s face, who closes his eyes and smiles without a word.
Once the powder starts to get a little cakey, Seungcheol pulls away, admiring his handiwork. Not too shabby. He nods to himself, before wordlessly turning back to the back, planning his next mode of attack. He emerges with a tube of liquid identically colored to the powder and squints at it.
“Fuck, was this supposed to go first?” Seungcheol asks no one in particular. Mingyu doesn’t respond, again. Well, no going back now.
He reaches once again for the powder brush, but jerks up in excitement at the flash of some semblance of knowledge that crosses his mind. “Wait, wait, where’s that little spongey thingy?” he asks Mingyu.
“Alright, I’ll give him that one since he at least knew what he was looking for,” Mingyu tells the camera, amusedly, reaching into the bag and instantly pulling out a hot pink, teardrop shaped sponge. “How did you know?”
Seungcheol plucks it from his fingers and begins dripping a bit of the liquid on the fatter side of the sponge, smirking as he does so. “Watched you use it many times to cover up… marks when you were still in college.”
Mingyu narrows his eyes. “Yeah, because you were an asshole who always left them nights before I had big presentations.”
Seungcheol ignores him, leaning back in and gently cupping Mingyu’s chin, tilting it upwards and pulling it closer to himself. He dabs once at his skin, mentally likening this act to painting, finding that the more he dabs, the more the liquid appears to blend into the skin. Yet, he still attempts to go as softly as possible, not sure how aggressive the sponge feels on the receiving end.
“This thing is magical,” Seungcheol tells the camera, holding up the sponge. Mingyu laughs.
Admittedly, it looks a little strange, the powder beneath the liquid, and he’s sure he’s done something wrong. Seungcheol gulps, again, unsure what really to do next, now that he thinks he’s done with the base makeup. He decides to go with what he knows, and pulls out an eyeshadow palette and a smaller, flat brush. Mingyu hums.
“What look are you going to go with, hyung?” Mingyu asks, once Seungcheol flips the palette open and balks at the number of colors there are in it. He looks up at Mingyu, making a small noise of questioning. “Like, what colors do you want to use?” he adds, small giggle escaping at the end.
“I- I have no idea. How do you even choose?” Seungcheol asks breathlessly, scanning the numerous browns, pinks, and reds that honestly all look the same. Mingyu laughs again.
“Trust your intuition,” Mingyu replies. Seungcheol bites his lip again and nods. This is closer to his area of expertise than anything else. Not that putting eyeshadow on someone has much to do with tattooing them, but at least he has some concept of space and color theory. He feels just slightly more confident.
Hesitantly, Seungcheol dabs the brush into an orange-brown shade, before proceeding to delicately brush it against both of Mingyu’s eyelids. He makes a small noise of fascination when he sees how nicely the color shows up, how prettily it contrasts against Mingyu’s skin.
Without much deliberation, simply working on instinct, he returns the brush to the palette, this time picking up a gold, shimmery shade, just a tone lighter than Mingyu’s skin color. This, he brushes a little lower on the eyelid, closer to his lashes, and mostly on the center.
“Open,” he instructs once he’s done, pulling away with a squint. Mingyu obeys, and Seungcheol can’t help but grin with pride.
Mingyu blinks a few times, puzzled by Seungcheol’s reaction, and the older can tell he’s itching to pick up a mirror — which he’s not allowed to do until Seungcheol’s done.
Although, Seungcheol’s sure he’s at least done this part close to correctly. The eyeshadow seems to bring out the warm brown of Mingyu’s eyes, somehow making them brighter while also giving him a sultrier look. Seungcheol is quite satisfied with his work, and terribly in love.
So as to not spoil the base makeup he just put on with such ardor, Seungcheol gently holds Mingyu’s chin with two fingers and kisses him rather chastely. He pulls away with the most disgustingly sweet of gazes, but is too mentally occupied to be cognizant of the fact that the camera is catching every single second of this.
“You’re gorgeous, I love you,” Seungcheol says. Just because he can, because there was a time where he couldn’t without wanting to run the other direction. Because Mingyu has taught him — slowly, gently over the course of four years — that there’s nothing wrong with affection, with loving and letting yourself be loved.
Mingyu just huffs in response, flicking Seungcheol’s forehead with two fingers, but Seungcheol can make out the muted blush high on his cheeks, discernible even beneath the makeup.
“I hope you know I’ll be keeping that in,” Mingyu says, though the threat is rather weak.
Seungcheol hums, returning back to rummaging through the bag, in search of a few finishing touches. “Good, leave it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Seungcheol sees Mingyu blink rapidly a few times in surprise. He shouldn’t be, surprised that is; Seungcheol’s gotten far more comfortable with PDA and the works in the past few years. Mostly following the realization that he’s terrible at restraining himself from kissing his pretty boyfriend anywhere and everywhere.
“Isn’t eyeliner a thing?” Seungcheol asks, to break the silence, emerging from the bag with two pencil looking things. Mingyu snaps out of his stupor and laughs, nodding.
“That it is.”
The two pencils are of slightly differing widths, and the same black color — so, to Seungcheol, identical. He plays a silent coin toss in his hand and chooses the wider one. When he sets the narrower down, Mingyu winces, but doesn’t say anything. Seungcheol gulps, hesitantly going back to pick the narrower one up again, and Mingyu smiles, more to himself.
Seungcheol slowly brings the pencil up to Mingyu’s eyes, and tilts his head to the side in confusion, finally realizing the rather dangerous nature of the situation.
“Babe, I am going to poke your eye out,” he deadpans. Mingyu opens his eyes to roll them, grabs Seungcheol’s wrist and brings it to his eyelid.
“For God’s sake, just put it on.”
“He said the same thing just last night,” Seungcheol tells the camera, with a grin. Mingyu releases his hold on Seungcheol’s wrist to lightly slap his cheek.
“You’re the fucking worst. This is a PG channel. You’re pushing 30.”
Seungcheol just shrugs, as if he couldn’t help it, and leans back in. With a bated breath, he presses the black pencil to the corner of Mingyu’s eyelid and draws all across his lashline. Steady hands come in handy, he supposes, as he successfully finishes the other side as well. A flash of instinct tells him to return to the bag and pick up a smaller brush, which he carefully uses to smudge the liner ever so slightly towards the outer corner of Mingyu’s eyelid just how he’s seen on all the most popular K-pop idols. Not bad , he thinks to himself.
Turning back to the camera, Seungcheol grins. “I’m good, right?”
Mingyu cracks an eye open, an unimpressed look directed Seungcheol’s way, who just quirks an eyebrow up in response, as if to say, you’ll believe me when you see it .
Seungcheol then squints, scanning Mingyu’s face, trying to figure out what he’s forgotten. Eventually, he zeroes in on Mingyu’s lips, light bulb immediately going off above his head.
This time, he goes in with a specific item in mind, one that he’s rather familiar with. Mingyu rolls his eyes again, with a fond smile, when he sees what Seungcheol’s retrieved: a well loved tube of light pink Fenty lip gloss.
“Of course,” Mingyu says, just as Seungcheol says, “A personal favorite.”
Seungcheol smiles in response, in no position to argue. After uncapping the gloss, he cups Mingyu’s chin again, tilting his head forward and bringing the applicator up to his lips. Biting his lip in concentration, Seungcheol gently swipes the gloss against Mingyu’s plump bottom lip. The top lip proves to be a bit more difficult, and he has to dab away some of the remnants that got onto Mingyu’s skin.
Once he’s finished, he pulls away with a grunt in satisfaction and a soft smile.
“Pretty. Isn’t he pretty?” Seungcheol asks the camera, before turning back to Mingyu, resting his hand on the underside of the younger’s jaw. “Always pretty.”
Mingyu blushes in response, and Seungcheol feels something bloom in his chest. He hands Mingyu the mirror, after the younger makes grabby hands in its direction.
“Huh,” is all Mingyu says, squinting as he analyzes his face in the hand mirror. He then sets it down rather aggressively, fixing Seungcheol a full-on pout complete with angrily furrowed eyebrows. Seungcheol parts his lips in question, but Mingyu instead reaches over to lightly push at his shoulder.
“You weren’t supposed to be good at this!” Mingyu whines, lifting the mirror up to do another angry scan. “How does it still look good even after you completely fucked up the base?” he then adds, incredulously.
Seungcheol just blinks rapidly, unsure if he should be proud or apologetic. “Sorry?” he tries.
Mingyu huffs. “You should be. This can’t be used as content .”
“Not my fault you’re already perfect,” Seungcheol says, softly, tipping Mingyu’s chin up slightly with one finger. Mingyu twists his face up in disgust and swats Seungcheol’s hand away.
“Fuck you, you’re never allowed on my channel again,” Mingyu replies, giving Seungcheol one last resounding pout before turning back to the camera with a cheery, sweet smile to do the outro.
Mission, inadvertently, solved , Seungcheol thinks.