Work Text:
Kim Mingyu lets his mind indulge itself in his addictions.
Radio static plays throughout the four walls of the safe haven he is in; the sound serves as the only thing to ground his brain, floating in fog along with his body, which seems abnormally light this morning. His warm skin bathes in the softness of the cashmere blanket he is cocooned in, his body long and toned drowned in the whites of fur warmed by artificial heat and contrasted by the cold form next to him. He lets his nose nestle into soft black hair, inhaling the smell of vanilla, nicotine, and a smell too unique to describe all at once—and while it shouldn’t be pleasant due to the presence of smoke that clings to the body—the mixture of smells accompanied each other to calm his racing heart and faltering lungs. Mingyu's eyes wandered down, and his vision swam in pale, alabaster skin.
Jeonghan's legs tangled with his own, the cold of his perfect blemish-free skin fighting with the warmth that came off Mingyu's tanned limbs. In his hold, in each other’s arms, in the company of their own room, they reached the calmness one could only dream of—the panic of life gone and never to be felt again. His head leaned down to observe closer; his breaths came out of his nose, and the wind it brought about caressed the chubby cheeks in front of him, the face so innocent yet capable of doing damage that could rival an army of men.
However, to Mingyu, this is all ignored as he lets his fingers—the expanse of it taking over almost half of his lover’s face—card through the brunette’s locks. This person in his arms, Jeonghan, is an angel, and he knows he’d been called that since the dawn of time, but he could never let go of that title, of how fitting it is for someone who could be considered a weapon of destruction—but no, not to him—to Mingyu, he’s a person to hold close, to pamper with kisses and love, an angel of life and joy that perfectly fits in his arms. Encased in his fondness, tenderness, and intimacy, he promises to keep him safe and sound. Mingyu can’t help but connect his chapped, bitten lips to Jeonghan’s milky-white skin; the dryness of his mouth might have felt a little uncomfortable, but the small mound of love beneath him didn’t stir nor move as he tasted the natural tang of sweat, salty on his tongue.
Mingyu snuggled deeper into the comfort of the bed; he does not want to wake up, never wants to wake up. If he controlled the way of the world, he would forever be glued to this bedding of succour, where warmth radiates and someone of the perfect size and shape stays pressed onto his body, pasted against the plane of his chest and narrow arms tightening around his waist.
It’s bound to be interrupted; 'calm' and 'tranquillity' do not really describe both of them together. Soon, the snug embrace of sleep would be ripped off like a bandage, only to be replaced by the creeping vines of consciousness and responsibility—the need for them to act like adults for that day. The first sign of it should have been the way the fabrics they were buried in seemed to rustle unnaturally loudly, too loud for the quiet silence of the room. Second would have to be how Jeonghan looked up into his face, blearily blinking his hazel eyes at Mingyu, his long eyelashes batting away sleepiness and heavy eyelids fluttering tiredly. He tightened his grip around the smaller man, his fingers again absent-mindedly running through silky tresses, causing them to emanate a scent so pleasing to his own senses.
A grunt came out of the moving lump beneath him. Mingyu closes his eyes, pulling the slowly wriggling body towards him, determined to lock the shifting frame against his own still one. Lithe hands and arms started swatting at his broad back, punching gently as it tried to free itself from his hold. A smile appeared on his calm and serene face. Mingyu kept his eyes closed and listened to the scuffle of noise made by Jeonghan and the squawks and groans that sounded like harmony in his ears.
“Mingoo-yah, please, we need to get ready for work.”
Mingyu chose to ignore Jeonghan’s complaints; his arms instead hugged tighter around the relenting body trying to push away from him, the smell of their covers burst through as the two of them wrestled amongst it. In the end, though, his hard-earned muscles couldn’t have stood a battle against Jeonghan’s pouts and whines as the shorter finally—finally—escaped from the slinky grasp of his arms. The taller’s deep whine reached deaf ears as he burrowed himself deeper into the sheets, relenting and letting out pitiful tirades towards his lover.
“Ah, hyung… can’t we just stay in for five more minutes? ”
Jeonghan’s perfect peach blossom lips open to scoff at the man wallowing in their bed; his phoenix eyes glared and squinted at Mingyu, though the venom that is behind the scowl seems to have disappeared, replaced by fondness and tenderness, exclusively reserved for Mingyu’s puppy eyes. The scene is honestly not that common in their bedroom; most of the time, it is Jeonghan whining and begging to stay in bed while Mingyu moves and coerces the older into getting ready for schedules they have for that day. Now though, Jeonghan hears the smooth, pitchy sound of Mingyu’s chuckle echoing in their room, Mingyu’s chest filled with warmth due to Jeonghan’s emotion exhibited so plainly on his face—why, he almost looks like an angry rabbit if you stare at him intently. His chuckle turns into full-blown laughter, the image in his mind making itself clearer, Jeonghan sitting on their bed with his fierce glare but fluffy exterior, a white rabbit (or maybe a winter hare) so fed up with its owner.
“Stop it, Mingyu! ”
The hefty, and most likely painfully strong, fingers about to pinch his cheeks stop mid-air for a second before changing their course of action and hooking themselves to Jeonghan's nape, pulling the smaller one down. Their faces a hair away from each other, their eyes both tantalising shades of colours linger in fond gazes. Breathes mingle, and chests rise and fall as their lips meet one another. The sound of their melding lips fills the four corners of the room, the scene of absolute domesticity visible for all if one is to be past their barely opened door; a cacophony of breaths and slow exhales are exchanged between the two lovers.
In 5 minutes or so, Seungcheol would probably barge in and force them both to separate and shower, reminders of schedules and practices already shooting out of his mouth, but for now Mingyu and Jeonghan would stay in bed; they would bask in each other’s presence, letting the cold and warmth mix together.