Archive of Our Own

Standing tall in front of a sea of cameras immortalizing him during the premiere of the job he feels the proudest about is some kind of a new experience, Mingyu realizes flashing smile after smile at every photographer’s request.

Not that he hasn’t been satisfied with his work so far. This, however. Mingyu has been dreaming about this since that first audition for a small part in a school drama – he didn’t get the part he auditioned for, but managed to bag the role of the second male lead instead, but that’s another story. Being photographed in front of a wall full of posters of his very first movie as a protagonist is what he has been working towards to for all this time. Romantic dramas are fun and dandy, and Mingyu is grateful for them – he’s well aware that, if he hadn’t been deemed as one of the most loved romantic male leads, he wouldn’t had been able to be where he is now – but scoring the main character position in a thriller movie like this one has been his goal for a long time.

It’s not only for the desire, as a professional-model-turned-actor, to not be restricted by a specific genre, to challenge himself and prove the public he’s not just a pretty face good at making women swoon. These are ambitions that have grown slowly, along with Mingyu’s experience.

At the time of that first audition, Mingyu was dreaming about becoming a movie star because his role model, the actor he admired the most, one of the main representative actors of the genre despite being only one year older than Mingyu.

If Mingyu switching agency to focus on acting and signing with said actor’s one, and then approaching him to express his admiration and ask for some advice – in the hope of becoming his new favorite donsaeng – were not coincidental, the shocking fact was Mingyu ending up becoming the guy’s best friend.

Arranging his body into a new pose, a hand inside the pocket of his slacks, Mingyu notices how half of the cameras that were in front of him suddenly disappeared in favor of moving towards the initial portion of the red carpet to immortalize a new guest.

The slight pang of annoyance immediately disappears as soon as Mingyu glances at his right, seeing who attracted the medias like a magnet.

The corners of his mouth lift. Of course, it’s him.

It doesn’t matter that Mingyu is the lead of the movie. Or that he is a famous actor himself. Who is he, compared to the person who has been declared the new king of the action-thriller genre only a few months after his debut, Jeon Wonwoo?

Jeon Wonwoo, who rarely appears at events like this and is now strolling on the red carpet like it’s nothing?

Jeon Wonwoo, who hates to draw attention to himself and still can’t help but make all heads turn every time he sets foot in a public place?

Jeon Wonwoo, who also happens to be Mingyu’s hyung and best friend.

Mingyu shakes his head. He really can’t blame them.

Not when Wonwoo is making a cheek-heart at the cameras – because of some photographer’s request and not by his own volition, Mingyu has no doubt about it – round glasses and full cheeks, all dressed in white like a walking piece of tofu. Mingyu bites back a laugh when somebody asks for some bunny poses, and Wonwoo obliges with the most embarrassed smile ever.

They exchange a glance for a small second before Mingyu gets called for an interview, but it’s enough for him to appreciate Wonwoo’s soulless eyes.

Mingyu had to bribe him with the promise of making some tomahawk steak, to get him to come to the premiere, but oh, it was worth it, even if only for all the future pictures of Wonwoo making bunny ears while wishing for the ground to swallow him whole.

It’s only at the end of the night, the movie ended and the last interviews and social interactions done, that Mingyu finally manages to talk to Wonwoo.

“Yay for the year of the rabbit, am I right?”

Startled, Wonwoo raises his eyes from the smartphone in his hand, relaxing when he sees him. He gives Mingyu a light shove, nose scrunched in embarrassment.

“I guess I should be glad we aren’t in the year of the pig.”

Mingyu laughs, both for his tone and for the image that has just appeared in his mind.

“When is the next year of the pig? I’ll make sure to drag you to some public event at the very beginning of it.” Mingyu steps back to avoid another shove, unthinkingly grabbing Wonwoo’s hands to stop him. “The world deserves to see Jeon Wonwoo making a piggy nose. I’m only carrying on my duty as a member of the society.”

“I think you’ve done enough,” Wonwoo says rolling his eyes, his hands slipping out from Mingyu’s grasp.

Mingyu chuckles. Wonwoo is not really upset about it, but Mingyu still knows how exhausting he finds this kind of events, even after all these years. He’s about to thank him for coming, when his manager shows up from nothing to tell him the car is ready whenever he wants to go home.

“Actually,” Wonwoo interjects. “I was thinking of offering you dinner. As a congratulations gift.”

Mingyu stares at him for a beat, surprised. “You know I never say no to this kind of offers, but you already sent me those flowers,” he points out. “There really is no need, hyung.”

“That was my manager’s doing, I didn’t even see how they looked.”

Wonwoo is looking at him from below his bangs – they are getting long but they are slightly curled so that they don’t touch his glasses – a small crease between his brows.

“They came with a note handwritten by you.”

“Do you want the free food or not.”

Mingyu giggles while he reaches out to fix the crooked collar of Wonwoo’s jacket. He notices with the corner of his eye his manager, eyes restlessly darting between them. Mingyu takes pity on him. “It’s okay, hyung, I’ll just grab a taxi later to get home.”

After murmuring something Mingyu doesn’t get, his manager disappears from the cinema hall in the blink of an eye. It has been a hard day for him too, Mingyu muses.

“So, where do you want to go?” Wonwoo asks then, tucking his phone inside the pocket of his jacket.

“Mhm? I thought you had something planned?”

Wonwoo dabs at his side with the tip of a finger. “I pay. You choose.”

Mingyu laughs as they head towards the exit of the building. Leave it to Wonwoo, to offer someone dinner only to not do any kind of work other than flashing out his credit card.

“Then, there is this fancy restaurant I’ve been wanting to try…”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes as Mingyu keeps the door open for him.

“Why do you still behave like you aren’t rich and can’t afford these things?”

“Food always tastes better when it’s free,” Mingyu jokingly rebuts, more to hear Wonwoo huff than anything.

They decide to walk to the restaurant Mingyu chose, since it’s only a few blocks away from the theater. They are deep into winter and the air is freezing, and it’s not surprising to see Wonwoo shivering after half a minute outside, trying to wrap himself better in his jacket. With a light huff, Mingyu is fast to hand him his creamy cashmere scarf, unable to refrain from noticing how perfect it looks with Wonwoo’s white outfit, making him look even more like a cute, soft piece of mochi.

He has the presence of mind to not wrap the scarf around Wonwoo’s neck himself, since there are many people still lingering around the theater, most of them from the media. It wouldn’t be the first picture of them going somewhere alone, but Mingyu carefully putting his own scarf on Wonwoo... well, that would be too much, even for them.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” Mingyu asks once Wonwoo seems to feel a little warmer.

The thing is, the public thinks of Jeon Wonwoo as some kind of silent and mysterious character. And, in some way, he is. Not so mysterious, but generally quiet and slightly awkward with people he doesn’t know well or when he’s in a huge group. What they don’t know, is how talkative he can be when he’s feeling comfortable, and especially when the discussion verts on topics that he enjoys.

“And you did really well,” Wonwoo finishes after a ten minutes long analysis of the movie. “I don’t think that character could have been played by anyone but you.”

Mingyu smiles at the praise. “Thank you, hyung. It means a lot, coming from you.”

It still feels surreal, to receive feedbacks and compliments from Mingyu’s favorite actor since he was eighteen. Wonwoo waves a hand dismissively and mutters something unintelligible into Mingyu’s scarf.

For some reason, the thought of using it again, of pressing the fabric over his own face, is slightly dizzying.

“Even if you stole the spotlight from me tonight,” Mingyu adds, trying to shake the thought away.

Wonwoo looks up at him with a small frown. Only the upper half of his face can be seen, the rest of it hidden by the scarf.

“What are you talking about?”

“Doing aegyo in front of all those cameras? That’s a sneaky move, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi.”

Mingyu grins in seeing how Wonwoo’s eyes widen in outrage and embarrassment.

“I have been asked to do it!”

“Mhm,” Mingyu hums condescendingly. “You always do this, don’t play innocent.”

“I never—”

“Like that time at that award show,” Mingyu says, the memory suddenly hitting him and making him smile.

“What?”

Wonwoo looks so confused, Mingyu grin grows wider.

“That award show you were the MC for, a few years ago.” Wonwoo is still looking lost. “When you went viral, remember? You looked so good that everyone was taking pictures of you instead of the idols they came for.”

Wonwoo's cheeks grow a shade pinker. Mingyu attributes it to the cold and to the embarrassment he knows Wonwoo feels when it comes to these things.

“I completely forgot about it,” Wonwoo mutters while looking away and immersing his face further into Mingyu’s scarf. “You always remember the most random things.”

And yes, maybe Mingyu really does remember even the smallest details, when it comes to Wonwoo.

The first time Mingyu saw Wonwoo was at the movie theater, when a nineteen years old Jeon Wonwoo made his spectacular debut in the world of cinema by playing the role of a young, disturbing serial killer. That performance not only granted him the newcomer award for that year, it also enlightened the barely-eighteen-Mingyu, casted two years prior in front of his school for a fashion campaign and currently working as a model, on what he wanted to do with his life: becoming an actor even only half as good as Jeon Wonwoo.

Given the monumental shift in his world after discovering Wonwoo’s existence, the intimidation Mingyu had felt that first time he saw him at the company’s cafeteria was to be expected. That, plus the fact that Wonwoo had never seemed the approachable type, with his silent demeanor and that cold, uninterested gaze. Mingyu had almost backtracked from his original plan of talking to him and try to befriend him, if not for the fact that once Mingyu had his eyes set on something, he’d always go for it, sooner or later.

Thinking about it now, remembering how Mingyu had only needed to smile and offer Wonwoo to buy him lunch for him to go all shy and muttering I believe I’m older than you, though, those worries and qualms all those years ago are hilarious.

Even more so in this very moment, when Wonwoo is happily munching on the fried dumplings Mingyu made while waiting for the ramyeon to cook. He has pushed the sleeves of his beige sweater – the one with the cute dog he’s been wearing so much lately – up to his elbows as he feeds himself directly by hand like a toddler.

Mingyu snorts internally. So much for the most intimidating actor of their generation.

But, and Mingyu knows it as well as the rest of the world, that duality is precisely one of Jeon Wonwoo’s main charms.

“The critic response was overall good,” Mingyu says, continuing the talk they were having about his movie. He carefully tilts the pan to slightly smoke the sauce for the ramyeon. “They were all skeptic after the trailer came out, saying I looked too gentle to play this role, I’m satisfied they changed their mind.”

“That was so stupid,” Wonwoo mumbles with his mouth full. “It doesn’t matter how you look like, if you can act the part.”

Mingyu gives the ramyeon one last mix before bringing it to the table. “Oh? Then why is that I’ve never seen you in a romantic role?”

“That’s...” Wonwoo frowns as he carefully scoops a big portion into his bowl. “There hasn’t been any interesting project, and—”

“Mhmh. Of course, hyung.” Mingyu grins behind his chopsticks. He knows that it’s partially due to Wonwoo’s image – his agency too scared of making him step out of his comfort zone of ruthless detectives and attractive criminal overlords – and partially due to the fact that Wonwoo gets so fucking embarrassed at the mere thought of playing the romantic lead in a drama.

Mingyu knows it, but it’s still fun teasing him about it from time to time.

“It wouldn’t be very on-brand for me,” Wonwoo manages to mutter and glare at him at the same time. His face breaks up into a big smile, however, after the first bit of food.

“This is so good, Mingyu-yah,” he exhales happily. “Your ramyeon is really something else.”

Mingyu grins at the praise, wiggling in his seat with a small giggle. The fact that Wonwoo manages to still get surprised at his cooking’s taste despite having been fed by Mingyu for the past years makes him unbelievably happy. It makes him almost think that Wonwoo won’t ever get tired of him.

“It’s only ramyeon, hyung.”

“Well, the ramyeon I make doesn’t taste like this.”

“That’s not true!” Mingyu protests. “You’ve gotten really good at making it.”

Wonwoo only shakes his head and goes back eating with a satisfied hum. The back of Mingyu’s neck is feeling weirdly warm and he grabs some bean sprouts to keep his thoughts from wandering too far while Wonwoo eats, all while trying to ignore the inviting scent of the food in front of him.

“You know,” he decides to go back to safer waters. “I’d love to see you playing the lead in a romantic drama, though. Those handsome but cute and clumsy characters, you know?” He smiles at the thought. “But I don’t think the world is ready.”

Wonwoo doesn’t even deign him of a look while he keeps stuffing his mouth with food. “That kind of role is much more cut out for you, than for me.”

“Because I am handsome and cute?”

Wonwoo swallows and slowly raises his gaze. A nervous giggle escapes Mingyu’s lips.

“Because you’re the clumsiest person I’ve ever seen.”

Mingyu complains with a whiny hyung! even though Wonwoo’s huge grin makes the teasing almost worth it.

He brings some more sprouts to his mouth, and Wonwoo seems to finally notice it, his eyes following the movement of his hand and then landing on Mingyu’s clean, empty plate.

“You’re not eating?”

“I am.” He wiggles the bean sprouts dangling from his metal chopsticks. Wonwoo keeps staring and isn’t it hilarious, from a guy who would literally forget to eat, if his manager wasn’t there to remind him or if Mingyu wouldn’t bring him food or ask him to eat together.

“I’ll have something when I get back home, later.”

Mingyu feels a nudge on his ankle. It’s Wonwoo’s socked foot, its owner still looking quite unconvinced.

Mingyu scoffs a little, suddenly self-conscious. He’s not used to Wonwoo worrying about him in this way.

“Tomorrow morning we have that photoshoot together, remember?” he murmurs in the end. Wonwoo tilts his head looking confused. “I don’t want to look bad, and if I eat this I’ll get all swollen.”

Despite the two of them having done more photoshoots together than your average actors – especially considering that they have never acted together – it’s been a while since they’ve done one, and Mingyu wants to look his absolute best, even more than he does for his other schedules. He already planned a quick but effective workout for tomorrow’s morning, right before the shooting, to make sure his muscles will look well defined and pumped, even if he doesn’t know if he’s going to show any skin. He doesn’t want to take any risk, and he’s not going to ruin everything for, what? some ramyeon he can eat any other time he wants? No chance in hell.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a while, his eyes not leaving Mingyu as he chews slowly. Then, he pushes the pot in Mingyu’s direction.

“Don’t be silly, Mingyu-yah.”

Wonwoo doesn’t really need to say anything else. Biting his bottom lip, not sure if to repress a smile or a sob, Mingyu empties the remaining food on his plate and starts eating, a familiar sense of warmth engulfing him.

For all the duration of the meal, Wonwoo’s foot stays pressed against Mingyu’s ankle.

Needless to say, the following morning Mingyu is awfully swollen. And he only drank like, half a beer.

Mentally cursing at Wonwoo, at himself, and at the workout that did nothing to change his appearance, Mingyu arrives at the studio a bit late because of the traffic, his hair flat for the humidity in the air, well decided on not removing his sunglasses until the makeup artist will appear with some magical product to make him look decent again.

It only gets worse when he enters the changing room and finds out that Wonwoo has already gotten his makeup done and is currently on a couch, playing with his smartphone while he waits for the hairstylist.

He feels Wonwoo’s eyes setting briefly on him when he plops on his same couch, as much as he hears his amused smile when he greets him.

“Well, good morning.”

Mingyu can’t help but jut his bottom lip out in a petulant way. Wonwoo looks perfect even with his own clothes and the messy mop of straight hair, and Mingyu feels miserable.

“It’s all your fault, hyung,” he complains instead of returning the greeting. “I shouldn’t have listened to you yesterday. I can’t even take off my sunglasses from how swollen my face is.”

Wonwoo purses his lips in a clear attempt of repressing a smile, but he pauses his game.

“It can’t be that bad. Let me see?”

Be it any other person, Mingyu would have told them to just wait for him to bare his face for the makeup artist. The fact is, Mingyu can’t really deny anything to Wonwoo. Especially when he’s looking at him like that, gentleness and care behind that slightly teasing gleam.

Begrudgingly, Mingyu removes his glasses and Wonwoo gives him and assessing look, head tilted and face unreadable. He isn’t wearing his prescription glasses, but they are so close that Mingyu knows he can still see him with clarity. It’s almost automatic, the way Mingyu’s mouth rearranges itself in a pout. He knows how he looks this morning, eyes smaller from the swell and his cheeks softer and slightly puffy. No amount of icy eye patches or gua sha massage managed to help him when he woke up.

He shifts in his seat, starting to feel a bit embarrassed. As much as he usually craves for Wonwoo’s undivided attention, it still feels strange being under his scrutinizing gaze like this. His sharp eyes taking in Mingyu’s features, thinking god knows what.

Maybe, if Wonwoo was a little easier to read – and Mingyu believes he can read him pretty well on most days – Mingyu wouldn’t feel so restless.

Then, Wonwoo curls his lips up just a little.

“I can’t see any difference.”

Do you mean my eyes always look like overcooked dumplings, is what Mingyu is about to say, but then he takes in the softness in Wonwoo’s gaze and understands that he didn’t mean it as a joke. Somehow, he feels even worse now, twisting his hands and only managing to stutter incoherently, “that’s not true...”, the whine in his tone irking even to his own ears.

Wonwoo imperceptibly shakes his head, turning back to his game. The smile is still on his face.

“You look the same to me.”

It’s quiet, mumbled under Wonwoo’s breath like he often does when he gives out compliments. Even in that crowded room, though, Mingyu can hear him. He’d always had. He always will.

“I’m so upset with you,” Seokmin says before chugging down another glass of soju.

Originally, he was supposed to offer Mingyu dinner to make amend for not having gone to his movie premiere. In the end, it’s Mingyu who is going to pay, to congratulate him on his upcoming debut.

Mingyu would be happy to finally catch up with him, given how busy they have been lately, if not for the fact that Seokmin has been sulking for the whole night.

“About what?”

Seokmin glares at him, slightly unfocused.

“I finally met Wonwoo-ssi.”

Oh, that.

“That’s... good? Why are you—”

“You,” Seokmin interrupts him, “have been friends with him for how long? Ten years?”

“A little less than—”

Seokmin’s index is threateningly pointed at him. “You have been friends for ages and I had to meet him for the first time when he popped out of nowhere during dance practice!”

Mingyu takes another bite of grilled pork, munching on it as he waits for Seokmin to elaborate. He uses to go on a rant about Wonwoo from time to time, complaining Mingyu has never introduced them like it’s a voluntary decision from his side. It’s just... there never was the right occasion. And Wonwoo is always refractory about meeting new people.

“I was sweaty and disgusting!” Seokmin finally explains, and Mingyu barks out a loud laugh.

“He came while you were dancing, I’m sure he was expecting to see some sweat.”

Seokmin huffs, and really, why is he being like this.

“If only you’d introduced us earlier, I would have been better prepared.” Now he’s pouting. Mingyu refills his glass. “I was so shocked to see him I almost didn’t greet him.”

“I don’t know why you care so much. “Mingyu shrugs, only to be glared at again. “I’m sure he didn’t mind.”

“That’s true, he was very nice.” Seokmin suddenly softens. “He told me you brought him to see Excalibur. He said I’m an amazing singer. Not good. Amazing.” He hides his face in his hands with a wailing noise. “He’s too good to be true.”

Okay, this is a tiny bit annoying.

“See? He praised you because I took him – almost by force, if I have to be honest – to see your musical. You should be thank—”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Seokmin raises his head again to squint at him. He usually holds his liquor a lot better, but he must be exhausted from all the practice he’s doing.

“Yes. Exactly, Kim Mingyu. You brought Jeon Wonwoo to see my musical, and failed to introduce us yet another time!”

“That’s... he had a schedule the day after, he had to go—”

Seokmin rolls his eyes, suddenly looking considerably less drunk.

“That was just an example, it happened so many times.”

“I don’t know what you want me to—”

“I’m your friend.” Seokmin empties another glass. “He’s your friend. It’s been so many years, and yet we never met.”

Oh, this is so stupid. Mingyu isn’t tipsy enough to listen to Seokmin’s usual complains about Wonwoo.

“Why are you so pressed about this? It’s not so serious.”

“You gatekeep him.”

A little bit of soju ends up on his shirt as Mingyu chokes on the rest.

“What... what does it—”

“I know your camera roll is full of pictures of him taken by you. Yet you never share them.”

“They’re private! Do you want me to share all the photos I took of you?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Why does he sound so reasonable even while spouting such nonsense? “You two are an incredibly famous couple of friends, everyone knows that you are basically attached to the hip, and yet your selcas together can be counted on one hand.”

“Are we...” Mingyu’s voice almost breaks from the absurdity of everything. “Are we defining a friendship by the number of photos shared on social media?”

Seokmin’s mouth twists, and Mingyu feels only slightly guilty, because he knows what he meant by saying that. He also knows that Seokmin is tired and stressed about his own things. Nonetheless, he can’t stop his tongue from running.

“Just because you have a crush on Wonwoo, it doesn’t mean you can—”

He was half expecting Seokmin to get mad at him, and the words die in his throat in seeing him widening his eyes in surprise, all the previous animosity disappeared.

“Oh, Mingyu,” he says, looking at him with something suspiciously similar to pity. “Mingyu. I’m not the one who has a crush.”

They share a look for a beat, then Mingyu drops his to the small glass almost completely covered by his hand. The back of his throat is starting to burn.

He doesn’t say anything, and Seokmin is kind enough to not mention Wonwoo again.

At the company party for their main boy group’s new album release, Mingyu spends about an hour doing the social butterfly before getting tired of it and starting to look for Wonwoo. It’s not anything new: while Wonwoo is essentially a homebody who likes to spend most of his free time in the peace of his home, Mingyu is a social creature, he likes to meet up with friends, stay out drinking until late in the night, doing any kind of outdoor activity. However, at some point, Mingyu always ends up seeking for Wonwoo.

Even now, in the middle of a loud, chaotic party full of egotistic celebrities, Wonwoo is standing there, beside a small table, like an ancient tree. Calm and silent and reassuring. Always there for when Mingyu is ready to come back.

When Mingyu left him earlier, Wonwoo was talking with Lee Jihoon, but now he finds him alone. From what Mingyu knows about Jihoon, he either went in search of a quiet corner, or went back home altogether.

For all that Wonwoo’s presence has the power to calm him down, Mingyu still feels some kind of restlessness, sometimes. Like right now, as he walks towards Wonwoo and tries to not stare too much at the flimsy shirt he’s wearing, how it nicely hugs his biceps showing way more chest that Wonwoo is used to bare. Mingyu’s eyes narrow dangerously on the pointed collarbones peeking through from the dark clothe. He hastily looks away, only to then let his eyes fall on Wonwoo’s small waist accentuated by the high-waisted slacks.

Mingyu shakes his head, trying to clear his mind before reaching Wonwoo.

Get a grip, you fool.

The room is too stuffy and maybe he didn’t eat enough before starting to drink.

Wonwoo’s face lights up when he notices him, even more when Mingyu hands him the fruity cocktail he asked the barman specifically for him. It’s light pink, two cherries floating on the surface. Mingyu feels his teeth rotting only by looking at it, but Wonwoo seems satisfied.

“Is it good?” Mingyu asks skeptically after Wonwoo takes his first sip. He smacks his lips, the way he always does when he drinks something he likes, and nods his head contently.

Wonwoo had started the night without his glasses but it lasted approximately fifteen minutes – just the time to take some official photos – before surrendering to the need to see beyond ten centimeters from his nose. It’s always jarring, seeing him with his round, wired glasses when he’s dolled-up in this way, hair up and body tightly wrapped by some alluring piece of fabric.

Mingyu takes a long sip from his own glass despite already feeling strangely lightheaded.

He notices Seokmin on the other side of the room, still being dragged left and right by Boo Seungkwan to get introduced to, apparently, every single person present at the party. Mingyu vaguely considers saving him, but Seokmin doesn’t seem to be that much in need of help, easily following Seungkwan around by letting him wrap his fingers around his wrist.

There is also what Seokmin said last time, so maybe that’s why Mingyu isn’t really in the mood to help him in any way.

Wonwoo is silently drinking his cocktail, eyes fixed on some point at their right, and Mingyu follows them to find Soonyoung talking – well, giggling and blushing – with another actor from their agency. He, too, doesn’t look like he needs any help, but Wonwoo still looks worried.

“You okay?”

“I don’t get what Soonyoung is doing?”

“I think...” Mingyu tries, honestly not understanding why Wonwoo looks so concerned and internally hoping he didn’t mean he doesn’t understand the act of flirting in itself. “I think he’s trying to get laid?”

Wonwoo finally averts his eyes from Soonyoung, only to narrow them at Mingyu.

“I can see that, thank you very much.” The concerned expression leaves a tiny bit of space to an amused smile. “It’s just... I thought...” Wonwoo vaguely waves in Seokmin and Seungkwan’s direction.

Mingyu doesn’t feel lucid enough to think about whatever is going on between those three. He hasn’t even met them as a group yet, and the only things he has to work with are Seokmin’s obscure words and less obscure facial expressions, other than Wonwoo’s comment about them having a weird vibe after he visited them during practice.

His eyes fall on Wonwoo again, on the way his lips are cutely wrapped around the thin straw of his drink. He’s feeling dizzy again and his treacherous brain suddenly comes up with the idea of leaning his heavy head somewhere to rest for a little bit, and what better place than Wonwoo’s shoulder, which is in such close proximity, so broad and so familiar?

“Soonyoung hyung did seem a bit weird, when we were talking earlier,” Mingyu provides while doing exactly what his stupid brain suggested, bending his back a little to rest his head on Wonwoo’s left shoulder. The sweet scent of Wonwoo’s cologne hits him, and he only barely notices Wonwoo freezing for an instant before relaxing again.

“He’s always weird, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, but you know, Seokmin is a little weird too. But he’s also a good guy.”

“Well, he is your friend, after all.”

Mingyu ignores the way his heart feels a little warmer and continues. “And Boo Seungkwan seems quite the freak, too, but also the more levelheaded one in the trio, you know what I mean?” He hears Wonwoo huffing out a small laugh, warm breath fanning Mingyu’s hair. “The point is, I think they’re going to be fine.”

Mingyu barely registers Wonwoo’s quiet I guess you’re right, too busy shifting to wrap his right arm around Wonwoo’s waist to be more comfortable. With him being slightly taller than Wonwoo, his back is going to hurt tomorrow, if they stay like this for too long.

Oh, Wonwoo is probably hating it. Being so close in front of so many people.

Honestly, Mingyu really doesn’t have the time and the will to worry about Seokmin’s love life. He’s being so stupid, and he hasn’t even drunk that much.

But Wonwoo must have noticed that there is something wrong with him, because he still hasn’t moved away.

“Everything okay? Your head is kinda heavy.”

“Thinking about this kind of stuff is making my head hurt,” Mingyu admits without going into too much detail.

Another small huff, the shoulder under his head slightly shaking.

“Yeah, me too.”

Mingyu gasps when his resting place slips out from beneath his head as Wonwoo gets Mingyu’s glass and places it on the near table with his own. He lets out a whiny noise for being separated from his drink, trying to gauge at Wonwoo’s clothes at the same time, to see if he let any trace of makeup on him. With these lights, it’s impossible to see it.

“Let’s head out, then?”

Wonwoo is clearly trying to look and sound disinterested but, even in his current state, Mingyu can see the expectation on his features. A short laugh escapes his lips and he rubs a hand on his face to try clearing his head a little.

“You were just here waiting for the right occasion, weren’t you.”

“I’ve been ready to go home for the past hour,” Wonwoo admits proudly. They’ve been here for maybe an hour and a half. He’s simply ridiculous, looking so happy at the idea of leaving the party.

The silliest, most devastating thing is that Wonwoo could have left at any moment of the night. He didn’t need to wait for Mingyu.

They don’t even live together.

Mingyu takes a deep breath, surrendering.

It really seems like he can’t get any peace of mind, tonight, he reflects while going to the wardrobe to retrieve both their coats. Once again, Wonwoo didn’t bring any scarf with him. Mingyu sighs, ready to give up to his own and to the possibility of waking up with a sore throat tomorrow.

Wonwoo is waiting him in the hall, hands stroking his biceps trying to warm them up. Apparently, not even the prospect of waiting in the cold air of the hall was enough to deter him, the need to leave the chaos of the party too strong.

Wonwoo’s cheekbones raise up when he smiles as soon as Mingyu hands him his coat, not even questioning the presence of a scarf that isn’t his own and letting Mingyu help him wrap it around his neck, his eyes warm and steady on Mingyu’s face.

A crush. Isn’t it fucking hilarious.

“Are you going to post some of those?”

Mingyu raises his eyes from his phone screen, where he had been idly examining the set of selcas he’d just taken. He's met with Wonwoo’s back, standing in front of the library where he has been spending the last ten minutes looking for some book he was sure he’d bought recently.

After a full day of work and two good hours spent at the gym, Mingyu had found himself, like it often happened, on his way to Wonwoo’s apartment with the excuse of cooking him dinner, declining some friends’ offer to hit the club tonight. He's still exhausted from filming and promoting the movie, and between that and his normal, active lifestyle, it has come the moment when he feels he needs to slow down and rest.

And Mingyu has long discovered that there is no place he can rest better than with Wonwoo.

So here he is, sprawled on his couch, head on the armrest and a leg over the back, while Wonwoo keeps doing his own thing. They have been hanging at each other’s places so much, in the last years, that it feels completely normal.

Generally, Mingyu tries to not dwell much on the thought, on how this may look to other people. Seokmin's voice in his head saying you’re hanging out at his apartment tonight too?

Mingyu tries to not think too much about it, but sometimes it’s hard not to.

“I think so, if some of them are decent enough,” he answers eventually.

“You know people can recognize my apartment, right?” Wonwoo asks after a beat of silence. “They’ll know you took them here.”

His voice his monotone and he’s still facing the library, so Mingyu can only stare at his back, scrutinizing it in search of answers. He still hasn’t completely wrapped his head around how broad Wonwoo had become after the military, firm biceps and large shoulders, his torso narrowing towards the waist, accentuating how thin it still is. It’s been more than a year, but sometimes it still catches Mingyu unprepared, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“So? Everyone already knows we are friends,” he tries, still trying to gauge Wonwoo’s reaction, his inner thoughts, from his silent back. When Wonwoo only hums an okay, okay, Mingyu huffs, suddenly feeling bothered by how unreadable he can be sometimes.

Mingyu has been feeling— restless, in these last days.

He periodically feels like this. That urge to just do... something. To pose the right question, to reach his hand out and see what would happen. But he’s usually good at repressing it, mostly because he’s okay with how things are, too afraid to ruin everything.

Lately, however, he can’t seem to stop. Maybe it started with Seokmin’s words. Maybe the time has come and Mingyu can’t simply take it anymore.

It's fine. Everything is fine, really. Mingyu loves what he and Wonwoo have. It should be enough.

“Do you know what people say about us?”

He blurts it out suddenly, deliberately not giving Wonwoo any kind of warning, just to see his reaction, and Wonwoo freezes on the spot, a hand hanging midair. For an instant, Mingyu believes he’ll just drop it, pretending to not have heard the question. Then, Wonwoo speaks again, voice level not in tune at all with Mingyu’s racing heart.

“Fans say that about any celebrities that vaguely interact with each other, Mingyu.”

“You know what I mean.”

Again, Wonwoo stays silent. Mingyu should drop it, he knows that. He should leave it like this before doing an irreparable damage. Isn't Wonwoo’s reaction enough of an answer?

But then— then, Wonwoo’s shoulders visibly drop, his hand down, limp at his side. In the silent room, Mingyu clearly hears him sighing. Mingyu sits up, suddenly feeling more alert, heart trashing into his chest as Wonwoo finally turns to meet his eyes.

Wonwoo could have kept doing what he was doing. He could have changed the topic. He could have left the room, even if this is his own house. Instead, he didn’t. He’s not saying anything, either, but he’s looking. Maybe he’s just being kind, but he still makes Mingyu take his courage in both hands.

“Would that be so bad, hyung?”

He sounds way more vulnerable than he’d like to, but it doesn’t matter. He is feeling the most vulnerable he’d been in a while, baring himself so much, his deepest desires out in the open.

And Wonwoo might be good at be unreadable when he wants to, but the thing is, Mingyu knows him. He knows him maybe a little too well, sometimes, because he can see the thousands of emotions passing through his eyes in the span of a few seconds.

He still needs to tame his heart, his breath erratic in slight fear, when Wonwoo gets closer until he’s standing between Mingyu’s legs. Wonwoo not shutting him down doesn’t necessarily mean anything, could only be due to his kindness and the affection he has for Mingyu.

“Why?”

Amidst all the things Wonwoo could have said, this comes as unexpected, and Mingyu only manages to let out a little confused noise.

“Why are you asking it now?” Wonwoo clarifies. There is a small crease between his brows. Mingyu swallows. He isn’t sure what Wonwoo means, but he finds himself unable to look away from his intent eyes.

“I…” Mingyu croaks, throat dry. He searches for a clear, definite answer, but the truth is that there isn’t a specific reason on why now. It was like slowly pouring water into a glass, drop after drop, until the glass was full and it spilled. “I guess I couldn’t keep it for myself anymore,” he murmurs in the end, his lisp peeking through. “It’s okay if you— don’t feel the same. But I need to know.”

More than six feet of muscles and hair, and Mingyu has never felt smaller than this very moment, with Wonwoo sighing at him again and taking off his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly. When he puts them back on, he looks exhausted. Was it a selfish request, Mingyu wonders briefly. His need of an answer in order to definitely put a lid over his feelings, him cornering Wonwoo like this... Wonwoo, who in all these years has been nothing but kind and patient and the best friend Mingyu could have ever asked for.

He feels a distinct burn in the back of his throat, a huge lump that he tries to push down before speaking again.

“Hyung...”

He gets interrupted by a soft touch on his face, the back of Wonwoo’s fingers gently brushing his right cheek.

“With our work...” Wonwoo starts, his touch on Mingyu’s cheek tentative, as light as a feather. “We are constantly surrounded by people, but at the same time it can be pretty lonely. And you know me,” the left corner of his mouth curls up slightly, “I enjoy being alone, but even for me, sometimes it can be a little too much.”

Mingyu doesn’t say anything, waiting for Wonwoo to continue. He doesn’t think he could find the words, or even the voice, to say anything. Not when Wonwoo is looking at him like this, caressing his face so tenderly.

“With you by my side, however... I never get the chance to feel lonely. And I mean it in the best way possible.”

Mingyu’s lips part in a shaky exhale at his words, his eyes fluttering as Wonwoo swipes his thumb over his eyebrow, his other fingers moving close to his hair, not enough to slide in between. Mingyu looks at him, at his gentle, beautiful face that is so, so dear to him.

It’s not a crush.

God, it hasn’t been a crush for a long time.

Wonwoo is now properly cradling Mingyu’s face into his hand, the smooth palm under his jaw, fingers reaching to the back of his neck and thumb gently stroking Mingyu’s cheek.

“It could destroy our careers.”

Wonwoo’s words are quiet, even scary in what they are prospecting. At the same time, Mingyu’s heart jumps in his chest in hearing them, because they are, also, a confirmation that he isn’t alone in this.

“I think...” he quickly wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, breath quickening when he notices Wonwoo’s eyes dropping to his mouth. “I think I’ll survive, hyung.”

Wonwoo huffs, his mouth now forming a full smile. “Yeah, me too.”

And before Mingyu can say or do anything, Wonwoo is leaning down and a pair of soft lips is brushing his own, a soft pressure as Wonwoo’s hand finally slides into Mingyu’s hair. It’s slow and sweet, until Mingyu can’t bear the distance between them anymore and yanks Wonwoo down with a small, whiny sound until he’s sitting across Mingyu’s lap. Wonwoo puts his arms around his neck as if it’s an automatic reaction, as if they’ve done this so many times.

Their eyes meet, and it’s the closest Wonwoo’s face has ever been.

“Hyung.” Mingyu kind of hates how whiny and desperate he’s sounding, but the sentiment quickly subsides with the way Wonwoo seems to soften at his every word. “Hyung, you have to know... there’s no backing off from this.” Mingyu tilts his head to brush their noses together, wraps his arms firmly around Wonwoo’s middle. “I’m not letting you go.”

Wonwoo smiles, cheeks bouncing and nose scrunching up in that way Mingyu loves. God. God. Is this real.

“I’m counting on it,” Wonwoo whispers, the smile still on his lips as he kisses Mingyu again.

Turns out that Soonyoung had pestered Wonwoo so much about it, that Wonwoo immediately agreed when Mingyu proposed him to go to see BooSeokSoon’s debut stage at Music Bank. It’s only been a few days, but both the group and the song are doing surprisingly well, and it’s fascinating, seeing the crowd – not that huge but surely passionate – cheering for them. Mingyu can’t stop smiling, looking around excitedly as if it’s the first time he’s stepping into a set.

It’s a nice atmosphere, with the music and the loud, affectionate cheering. Maybe, in another life, Mingyu would have liked this kind of work.

From what Mingyu can see from Wonwoo’s face, the lower half of it covered by a mask without any real reason, he looks surprised in the most positive way. Wonwoo isn’t completely new to this. Mingyu knows he used to visit Soonyoung, from time to time, but that was when Soonyoung was still active as a soloist, so it’s been a while for him, too.

As the happy notes fill the set, a few fans in the crowd notice them watching the performance from a dark side of the room, but they go back to cheer and sing right after a small wave from Mingyu. It feels a bit weird, but again, it’s nice.

“They recognized us, you should take your mask off to not deprive the masses from the view of your handsome face, hyung.”

Wonwoo keeps his eyes on the stage, but from the slight crinkle in them Mingyu knows he’s heard him. Even with half of his face covered, he still looks handsome, dark hair for once neatly combed and his puffy jacket.

“I think they are already getting their fair dose of handsomeness,” he replies throwing Mingyu a quick glance that makes him blush a little.

“Oh, stop it.”

“I’m talking about them, actually.”

Wonwoo nods towards the stage where their friends have reached the half of the song, excitedly dancing and singing as if they are some bunch of eighteen years old, freshly debuted idols. They are wearing some gray suits and Mingyu can’t in all honestly say they look bad, but he still feels a little offended.

“Well, they look a bit like Alvin and the chipmunks but they are charming, I guess,” he mutters with a pout.

Wonwoo graces him with a laugh, covering his already hidden mouth with his hand to not be too loud and disturb the recording.

“You have a point, but only if Soonyoung is Alvin.”

“Of course he is.”

Wonwoo looks at him again, his huge smile clear from the way his eyes are almost closed, and Mingyu really hopes no one is looking in their direction, because the look he probably has on his face would feed the public’s fantasies about them way too much.

As soon as they get to the trio’s dressing room bearing gifts (food and coffee), they manage to catch a glimpse of Soonyoung’s face crumpling before he throws himself onto Wonwoo with a sob. Wonwoo only gives Mingyu a silent look, reaching out to hand him his bags, and then he puts his arms around Soonyoung, who is mumbling incoherently against his neck with a watery voice.

Wonwoo had finally disregarded his mask, and his smile is painfully fond while he gently pats Soonyoung’s back.

“I know, I know,” he’s saying quietly. “You did well.”

Mingyu quickly rubs his prickling eyes. Wonwoo would never say it out loud, but Mingyu knows he had been worrying about Soonyoung, and he must feel relieved to finally see him succeed and be happy about what he does. He looks at Seokmin’s huge smile, petting the head of a Seungkwan who is sporting a suspiciously trembling lip, and takes a deep breath to not start crying himself.

Given the people involved, the emotional moment doesn’t last long, and soon Wonwoo has extricated himself from Soonyoung’s grip, who is now urging him to take a photo together to post on Wonwoo’s Instagram to promote them.

“Haven’t I already promoted you enough?”

Wonwoo is whining with that tone Mingyu has only ever heard him use with Soonyoung. Years ago, Mingyu spent the longest time disliking Soonyoung, how well he seemed to know Wonwoo and how touchy he was with him. Then, Soonyoung got drunk embarrassingly fast at Wonwoo’s birthday and tried to kiss not only Wonwoo, but also Mingyu and few other people at their table, and Mingyu quickly buried the hatchet.

Thinking about it, a wave of shame runs through Mingyu’s body as he realizes that he already knows each of Wonwoo’s friends – which aren’t many, to be fair – and has met them on several occasions through the years, while Wonwoo... well, maybe Seokmin was right.

Mingyu is a gatekeeper.

“You only reposted the stories from our official account adding that dumb thumb up emoji!”

“What else was I supposed to do,” Wonwoo mumbles. He’s sulking a little, and Mingyu feels the need to intervene. He knows how much Wonwoo likes his emojis.

“He also used the heart-eyes one,” he provides helpfully and Wonwoo shoots him a thankful look before turning to Soonyoung again with a victorious ha!

“You promoted us so much on your sns, Mingyu hyung,” Seungkwan says, clearly trying to divert Soonyoung’s attention from Wonwoo’s unnecessarily proud face. “Thank you so much.”

“That’s right, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung continues with his attack. “Please learn something from your boyfriend.”

There are several seconds of silence during which Mingyu feels himself blushing from the point of his feet to the root of his hair. Then, Seokmin whispers a half-exasperated, half-fond hyung at the same time Seungkwan facepalms with a groan.

Soonyoung blinks, looking alternatively between Mingyu and Wonwoo.

“Was I not supposed to say it out loud?”

“What— how—” Mingyu stutters, panicking.

Did Wonwoo already tell him? It’s flattering, that he couldn’t wait even for a week to pass, but Mingyu wished he knew so that he could have come prepared. However, from the very confused look on Wonwoo’s face, is clear he didn’t say anything about them to his best friend.

“Well, you have this vibe,” Seungkwan states, simply, and Mingyu would like very much to tell him what vibe he and his two coworkers have, but Seokmin beats him on time.

“I mean, you’ve always had, but lately you’ve been... you know.” He nudges at Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu knows, but he won’t admit anything. “So, me and Soonyoung kind of figured you finally sorted your stuff out.”

“Seokmin hyung is being kind,” Seungkwan intervenes. “He was the only one doing the deducing, Soonyoung hyung didn’t do shit.”

A big pout appears on Soonyoung’s face and Wonwoo laughs at it. Mingyu doesn’t miss the brief starstruck look both Seokmin and Seungkwan sport at the sound of his laugh. Soonyoung clings to Seungkwan’s arm, whining as he tugs at his sleeve.

“You’re so rude, give me a kiss.”

Seokmin steps in to separate them as Seungkwan launches forward in an attempt to strangle Soonyoung. Wonwoo is still laughing, watching them excitedly as if he’s at the movies.

Mingyu’s head hurts, but the word boyfriend is still resonating into his mind.

Mingyu puts down the new script he’s supposed to read, completely unable to concentrate. Not even the reassuring, warm weight of Wonwoo’s socked feet on his lap is managing to bring him some peace of mind, not after the terrible news he received earlier.

“Why are you being so restless?”

Wonwoo asks from his side of the couch, and the crumble of attention is all Mingyu needs to throw the script away and plop down on Wonwoo, arms around his middle and chin pressed on his chest.

“Hyung. I got such a sad news.”

Wonwoo sets aside his phone, a concerned look that makes Mingyu feel only a little guilty about being a bit (but only a bit) over-dramatic.

“What happened?”

Oh, he looks so worried, he’s so sweet. Mingyu plants a quick kiss on his clothed chest before dropping the bomb. “My manager told me I have to cut my hair. I have the appointment in two days.”

He decides to think that it’s an automatic reaction, for Wonwoo, to slide his fingers into Mingyu’s hair upon learning a considerable part of it will be gone soon.

“I’m sorry. I know how much you like it like this.”

Mingyu hums in agreement, leaning into the touch. He knows Wonwoo is probably thinking it’s just hair and it will grow back, but he’s glad for his participation in Mingyu’s grief and for not making fun of him.

“You’ve had this hair for less than a year and there’s already some kind of cult around it, you know,” Wonwoo murmurs while still caressing his hair and watching him with intent, as if to imprint in his memory how Mingyu looks before he goes back to a short haircut. Well, at least this is what Mingyu likes to think. “Your fans will be sad.”

Mingyu sighs. “They loved me like this.”

“Mhm. I like it too.”

Wonwoo says like it’s nothing while Mingyu feels his face warming up, the hint of a smile forming on his face. It’s not like he didn’t know it already, but still, hearing it has still some kind of effect on him.

“Jeon Wonwoo, if you say things like these I’ll start believing you actually like me.”

Wonwoo lets out a small huff at Mingyu’s fake coyness and pulls lightly at his hair with a smile.

“I meant I like it when you tie it up in that little ponytail. Makes you look like a giant sprout.”

Mingyu presses his face on Wonwoo’s chest, laughing against it. Wonwoo wiggles a little to get into a more comfortable position while he keeps running his fingers through Mingyu’s hair.

“You know this morning, when we went to see Seokmin and the others and you all forced me to do that tiktok challenge,” Mingyu says after a while. He doesn’t see it, but he’s sure Wonwoo is smiling. He had loved Mingyu doing that silly dance a little too much, from how he was cackling from behind the camera. “Seokmin told me I looked like a Hollywood star.” He raises his head to show Wonwoo his pout. “With my hair short I won’t look like one anymore.”

“He really told you so,” Wonwoo says with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t seem convinced. You don’t think I look like a Hollywood actor?” he shakes his head to show his long hair better.

Wonwoo contemplates it for a few seconds, watching Mingyu with intent.

“I don’t know,” he decides in the end. Mingyu groans in frustration and Wonwoo laughs.

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “You always look like a Mingyu, to me.”

“And now what does this mean?!” Mingyu complains grumpily, but his heart skips a beat nonetheless, his body automatically sliding higher to get his face closer to Wonwoo’s. “What even is a Mingyu?”

They are so close that Wonwoo’s eyes get slightly crossed as he looks at Mingyu with a gentle smile.

“You,” Wonwoo pokes Mingyu’s warming cheek with the soft tip of his index. “You are a Mingyu. It doesn’t really matter how you look.”

His heart thundering inside his chest, Mingyu turns his head to press a kiss on Wonwoo’s palm and to hide his shameful, happy smile. There is something deeply touching in Wonwoo’s simple words that makes him feel emotional in a way that is maybe a little pathetic. He turns to meet Wonwoo’s gaze, who’s still watching him with his dark, unwavering eyes.

“You wanted a different answer?”

Mingyu shakes his head, eyelids fluttering with Wonwoo’s relentless caresses and sweet gaze before surging forward and capturing his lips in a kiss. Yes, maybe Mingyu would have liked for Wonwoo to fawn a little over his looks, but this? This is infinitely better.