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The first time Mingi had seen him, it felt like the world stopped for a second. Not in the literal sense where all sounds vanished from around him, his being floating around in an airless plane focusing only on the man that had just walked into the party, but in the sense that Mingi couldn’t stop staring as his heart skipped a nervous beat. The man that had caught his attention would’ve been fairly regular if it wasn’t for the countless black swirls of ink decorating every inch of his exposed skin. Mingi couldn’t see well due to the distance, but he did spot a snake-like tattoo and some Asian calligraphy he couldn’t read on the man’s forearm. The ink crawled up on his neck, too, which is probably the reason why Mingi’s mouth ran dry, his eyes glued to the guy as he followed his every move.
He was a sight to behold with his other friends; they gave the impression of a group of misfits. Three out of seven people were all tatted up, and when Mingi caught his best friend’s eye, he knew they were also looking at the newly comes. They were a sight to behold after all, and it wasn’t just Mingi and his friends staring; everyone else was looking at them, too. The group seemed unbothered as they laughed and headed to the bar to buy drinks.
“Holy shit,” Seonghwa breathed next to Mingi, his eyes following the shortest in the group, “Who are those people?!”
Mingi gulped, eyes glued to the tallest man with dark wavy hair, his back broad in his leather jacket, “I have no idea, but he’s so fucking hot.”
“Which one?” Jongho chimed in, seemingly not as impressed as his two other friends, but Mingi noticed his eyes straying to the one with longer hair. Jongho wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was, at least not in front of Mingi, who had known him for a large part of his young life.
“The tallest with the neck tattoos,” Mingi answered him, gulping as he watched the man throw back a shot, the clear liquid trailing down his chin before the man wiped it off with the back of his hand. Shit, that was hot too.
“Ah,” Jongho voiced, tilting his head, “Yeah, he does seem like your type.”
“I had no idea you were into neck tatts.” Seonghwa chimed in, swaying his hips sensually to the slow rhythm of the song.
“Me neither,” Mingi chuckled, his eyes still glued to the man, who was now headed towards the three of them with his large group of friends, “I mean, I usually find them ugly, but…he looks good with them.”
“I have to agree,” Seonghwa nodded, biting his lip when the group settled not at all far from the three friends, “You see the shortest one?”
Jongho snorted as he looked at Mingi before he smirked at Seonghwa, “Wanna bet you won’t be able to take him home tonight? He doesn’t seem the type.”
“Oh no,” Seonghwa giggled, “He’s the easy type, you just watch and learn.”
But Jongho wasn’t interested in watching his friend charm off the pants of another man, and Mingi…well, he was busy staring for the rest of the evening at the hottest man he had ever seen until now. The two made eye contact from time to time. The tatted-up guy was the life of the party as he threw back drink after drink and then returned to the dance floor. Mingi’s desires burned low in his stomach as he followed the man’s every move, his mouth going dry whenever the man rolled his hips sharply. Mingi would’ve been a fool to deny the fact that he wanted the other man, but quite frankly, he wasn’t in the mood to approach anyone tonight. They were at a party, so that meant people weren’t exactly there to create meaningful relationships or bond over their hobbies. Mingi liked attention, and he liked being approached first. Besides, what was he going to do with a wannabe thug who could’ve easily been part of the mafia with the way he looked? Exactly, so Mingi sufficed with the eye candy as entertainment for the night. After all, what were the chances of him seeing the guy ever again? Almost zero to none.
3 months later
Mingi has had enough of studying, but with the degree he had, he couldn’t do much. He didn’t want to be picky when it came to finding a job, but he thought it was a little embarrassing for him to work as a barista after he did a four-year long bachelor’s degree – not that there was anything wrong with people who did that, it was just simply what Mingi didn’t want for himself. Therefore, he had no choice but to spend even more money on a course he was hopeful would help him land his dream job. The internship Mingi was frequenting seemed rather promising, and he hoped that if he was in good cahoots with his supervisor, he’d have more of a chance of getting employed at this magazine once he was done with his one-year-long course.
Life in the big city was cool and fun, but way too expensive, so Mingi was trying to focus on studying now to maximise his chances of building a good resume. Mingi’s nose was in his phone as he hurried down the busy street, trying not to be late for his internship again. He couldn’t help it, though; he wasn’t used to commuting and how the public transport worked in the big city just yet. His GPS told him to take a left turn, but Mingi was sure yesterday he had kept walking straight, but maybe it was because he had come from a different direction? Yeah, maybe that was it, so Mingi took the left turn, albeit a little too abruptly and prompted someone to crash into him. The person hissed loudly as Mingi looked back, his feet freezing when he saw the person.
The man was dressed in all black clothing, but his neck and hands were uncovered, leaving his heavy ink visible to Mingi’s eyes. His mouth instantly dried up as he openly stared at the handsome stranger, shocked to realise it was the same man from that party many months ago. He had been too attractive for Mingi to forget about him, and even though his memory of him has faded since, the real deal was right in front of his eyes now. The man’s eyes were dark, and despite being rounder than Mingi’s, they were sharp and intense, glaring at Mingi. His cheeks were slightly rosy, and he had a scowl on his face as he measured Mingi up and down.
“Uh, sorry—”
“Dickhead, are your eyes for show only?” Mingi blinked at the attractive stranger, his voice smooth and pleasant despite how rudely he spoke. When Mingi didn’t answer, the stranger scoffed, “Not only are you blind, but mute too? Amazing, what a fucking idiot.”
And before Mingi could try to apologise or explain himself, the man bumped his shoulder into Mingi’s hard, stalking off with a swagger Mingi could compare to those of a wannabe gangster. Mingi snorted under his breath, not nearly as insulted as he should’ve been. He rarely took things to heart, especially when it was a stranger being a dick to him, a hot one on top of it all. The city was big, so he was surprised that he had managed to run into the guy again, and he smiled to himself as he finally took off again, realising he’d be awfully late to his internship now. The handsome stranger, once again, sat in the back of Mingi’s mind for much longer than he should’ve. Despite his exterior and demeanour, Mingi wasn’t scared of him. He was cautious, of course, but not really scared.
2 weeks later
At this point, Mingi had accepted that he’d been cursed when he was a baby to always be late. He just couldn’t help it, and while he wanted to blame it on someone or something else, it was entirely his fault this time. He was too lazy to get up on time, and thus, watched the metro depart right as he ran down the moving stairs. He heaved a sigh and kicked up dust, keeping a safe distance from the platform as he waited for the next train. It would take him another six minutes, which, looking down at his wristwatch, confirmed that Mingi would be late for his class. Nothing new, per se, but his professor was catching on, and he didn’t look too pleased by him. Whatever, Mingi was a relatively good student, so they couldn’t do anything to him. Maybe if he didn’t study well, they could’ve tried kicking him out, but Mingi made sure they couldn’t. He smiled to himself as he hurried down the hallway, headed for his class in a rush. The professor was mid-sentence when Mingi burst through the door, and he paused to catch his breath. The professor looked unimpressed as Mingi shot him a goofy grin, and just shooed Mingi away.
There weren’t many available seats, so Mingi took the stairs towards the back of the amphitheatre. He waved at his friend, but kept walking as there were no empty spots next to him. The penultimate row seemed a lot more deserted than the other ones, and Mingi wondered why for a second. His answer came soon as he started scooting closer to the closest person, whose arms were crossed and his head hung low. Mingi sat next to him and placed his backpack on the table, turning his head to speak to the man, only to pause. He was met with a fierce glare, dark eyes bleeding into his unimpressed. Oh, it was that same tattooed man from earlier. Mingi gulped before he smiled, waiting for a flash of recognition to cross the man’s features. It didn’t happen.
“Hi,” Mingi spoke up, smiling tentatively at the man, “I had no idea you were—”
“Do I look like I want you to talk to me, asshat?” Mingi blinked at the man’s rudeness, slightly taken aback, “Fuck off, will you?”
Well, Mingi did certainly not expect that and was left speechless as he blinked at the tatted-up guy. He didn’t look away; he kept staring Mingi down, probably to try and intimidate him, but Mingi was too taken by the man’s looks and his aura. He was even more handsome from close, and Mingi noticed a faded bruise in the corner of his mouth. Huh, figures, Mingi thought to himself. The man looked like a gangster through and through; he wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s part of the mafia or some other shady organisation.
“Right,” Mingi found himself speaking up despite the warning look on the man’s face, “Well, if you ever need notes, I’ll gladly lend you mine.”
The man had no notebook or pen on him, so Mingi thought he’d offer him a bit of help in case the man needed it. He couldn’t even remember seeing him before, so Mingi wondered if the man was new in class or if he’d never attended it before. Given that they had started the school year not long ago, Mingi assumed the man had simply been unbothered to show up to class until now. Missing two weeks’ worth of classes wasn’t drastic enough to get kicked out, so Mingi was sure he’d see more of the man.
And Mingi was right about that because the man was absolutely everywhere on campus he went. First, it was the canteen, which was normal given that they had a daily free meal, of which Mingi would gladly take advantage of if he were in the university’s vicinity. The tatted-up guy wasn’t alone, though; he was with one of the guys from the party, the shortest one, whom Seonghwa wanted to take home and well, succeeded with doing so in the end. They stared at Mingi as he passed by their table, but they didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the case for the other instances, however. When Mingi ran into the handsome guy in the hallway, his shoulder was almost crushed by another person as he was pressed into the wall. The man scoffed at him and measured him up, raising an eyebrow at Mingi.
“Watch where you are going, idiot.” He hissed at Mingi.
“Right, the hallway was awfully packed,” Mingi muttered as he fixed the strap of his backpack, giving the man an unimpressed look. The tatted-up guy scoffed before he pushed Mingi back into the wall, then stalked off. Mingi huffed before he took off, too, looking over his shoulder at the man. He wondered what his deal was for being so grumpy and rude all the time, but Mingi supposed with tattoos like that and style, it was expected of him to be standoffish and rude to the people he came across. Whatever, Mingi was determined to ignore the man as long as he didn’t seriously harm him.
Which, much to Mingi’s surprise, came sooner than later. It was the afternoon and he was finally done with his courses, ass tired from having worked an early shift today. His eyes were droopy, but he knew he’d have to make it home, so against his better judgement, he grabbed an energy drink and cracked it open, sighing as he took the first sip. It tasted really bad, but Mingi was sure he’d fall asleep on public transport if he didn’t try and wake himself with unhealthy stuff. Besides, he wasn’t an energy drink consumer on a daily so he was sure he’d be fine; he trusted his heart would be able to take the small boost.
The lights for the pedestrians had turned green when Mingi put his foot down onto the pavement, staring down at his phone as he started walking, a little behind compared to the other pedestrians who were crossing the street. He heard a hard screech of tires before loud honking almost deafened him, and when he looked up, he was faced with a rapidly approaching car and bright headlights that blinded him partially. In his shock, Mingi froze as his heart leapt into his throat, phone clutched tightly in his hand as he braced himself for the inevitable. He’d be crushed to death by a car on the crosswalk. What a way to go out. He hoped his friends would make fun of his death once they were done grieving him. But the expected impact never came as the car’s tyres screeched loudly, the burned rubber scent setting Mingi’s lungs on fire as his body locked up, his muscles tensing. The car stopped, just barely, and it grazed his jeans, punching a winded breath out of his lungs. Mingi didn’t realise he had started shaking until people got out of their cars, and some pedestrians even approached him with worried faces. They were speaking to Mingi, but he felt underwater as he watched the car’s door open and…the tatted-up guy step outside, frowning.
People were screaming at the man that he had run multiple red lights and had almost killed Mingi, but the tatted man just scoffed, his jaw clenched.
“Do you have a fucking death wish?!” The man hollered at him, his tone filled with rage as if Mingi was the one at fault here, “Why are you looking down at your phone when you’re crossing the road?!”
“It was green for me,” Mingi muttered, finding his voice at last, “Whatever.”
Mingi shook off the hands patting him and gulped, taking a deep breath. He apologised to the other drivers with a bow for holding up the traffic, and then started walking again, his body still shaking when he made it safely onto the pavement. He unlocked his phone and dialled Seonghwa, his eyes unfocused as someone revved their car’s engine, making Mingi recoil as his body was still tense.
“I’m down at the ER—” Seonghwa sounded rushed, almost out of breath.
“Someone just almost killed me,” Mingi said blankly, staring ahead at nothing.
“What?!” Seonghwa screamed into Mingi’s ear, but he didn’t flinch, “What happened?! Are you alright? Mingi, talk to me!”
“Can I come see you?” Mingi’s voice was shaky as he searched for a bench to sit on and wait for his cab.
“Yes, come right now. Do you need someone to pick you up?” Mingi gulped, shaking his head even if Seonghwa couldn’t see him.
“I’ll call a cab,” Mingi sighed, his legs feeling like jelly by the time he managed to sit down. He felt like he was out of his body as he dialled a number and asked for a cab, feeling a bit disoriented as his heart refused to settle down. He was probably either high on adrenaline or in shock. Nothing like this has happened to him before, so Mingi didn’t know he’d react like this. He was glad Seonghwa was there, though, putting aside his duties just for a little while to make sure his friend was alright.
Mingi didn’t see the tatted-up guy for a while after that; he had even started forgetting about him, even though there was something so particular about him that Mingi doubted he would be able to completely forget the man. But he was in the back of his mind, probably stored away with the almost-accident incident, as Mingi was still shaken up by it. He’d never considered what it would be like to lose his life until then, and to say he was going through a small existential crisis wouldn’t sound too crazy. Not to him, nor Seonghwa, who was still closely monitoring Mingi to make sure he was truly fine. Mingi was in the library on campus, crammed next to Jongho at one of the wide tables. The silence was starting to make Mingi feel unsettled, and when he started fidgeting for the nth time, Jongho groaned and looked at him, shaking his head. Mingi knew he should stay still, but his ass was going numb and his joints were begging for him to stretch out his body. Jongho, being his good friend, knew this, so he handed Mingi a small note with the books he needed.
Mingi took the paper with a smile and stood, his chair creaking against the floorboards. He blushed when someone gave him a frustrated look and bowed his head before he scurried away, looking at the little guiding boards on top of the shelves. He had to find the science section since Jongho was a chemistry student, a subject completely out of Mingi’s expertise, but he was lucky since he knew how to navigate this library, and he knew he’d find it quickly. It was more towards the back of the library, almost as if it had been intentionally tucked away from the rest, and Mingi noticed the lights were dimmer here. He didn’t mind them as he turned down the aisle, eyes on the shelves as he searched for the books Jongho had asked for. He didn’t notice that someone else was there, but he paused when the unmistakable smell of burning tobacco hit his nostrils. His nose scrunched as he looked ahead, turning his body to face forward, and was surprised to see the tatted-up guy. He was leaning against the shelves with a leg propped up, head thrown back as puffs of smoke left his rosy and plush lips. Mingi gulped as he watched the person frozen, his body trembling slightly at the memory of almost getting run over by the guy not long ago.
“Stop staring, you creep,” The man hissed, his jaw clenching as Mingi flinched, “Suddenly you have eyes? Maybe you should use it when you’re outside, too.”
Mingi huffed, walking closer as he was still looking for the books. The man looked even more alluring in the dimly lit space with the ink crawling up the skin of his neck, “I thought you didn’t remember me.”
“I’m ignorant, not stupid.” The man snapped back as smoke floated from his lips, and Mingi hummed, stopping at a respectable distance.
“Right,” He hummed, then looked down at the paper in his hand, “Do you mind moving a bit? I’m looking for some books.”
The guy’s head tilted as he finally looked at Mingi. He was unimpressed, his lips downturned and his eyes dark as he glared at Mingi. Mingi just attempted to smile at him as he waved the paper in his hand as if to prove he wasn’t lying. The man didn’t move yet, though his eyes measured Mingi up as he raised his hand and took a deep drag of his cigarette. Mingi didn’t want to admit such a thing since smoking was bad for your health, but the man looked so good doing it. He gulped and looked at the shelves again, taking off towards the man. He could walk around him and look for the books still. He couldn’t return without them; Jongho would eat him alive. His exams were coming up, and he was very focused on studying these weeks, so Mingi knew not to disturb his routines. He cleared his throat as he neared the man and was about to walk around him, but the guy suddenly straightened up and stood in Mingi’s way.
Mingi felt forced to stand up straight, too, as he was suddenly eye to eye with the handsome stranger, just barely shorter. He wanted to hold his gaze so he didn’t look away, and his heart lurched in his chest when the stranger suddenly started walking towards him, forcing Mingi to back up. But his back hit the shelves pretty soon, and he was now caged in, unable to move if he didn’t want to touch the guy. Mingi had a feeling the guy didn’t want to be touched.
“Smoking is bad for your health,” Mingi muttered, his nose scrunching when the guy laughed, then blew the smoke in his face.
“Right, tell me something new, sweetie.” Mingi frowned, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the nickname.
“You are not supposed to smoke in the library,” Mingi grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the guy. He just laughed again, tilting his head.
“Try again, sweetie.” He was amused as Mingi huffed, rolling his eyes, “Goodie two shoes at your big age? A bit pathetic, isn’t?”
“Well, I don’t know what your degree is, my guy, but not all of us are handed a silver spoon at birth.” Mingi’s smile was sarcastic as he pushed off the shelves abruptly, taking the man off guard, “So some of us have to study a shit ton to get somewhere in life—if we get somewhere—now, can you move? I’m looking for some books.”
The tatted-up guy didn’t say anything for a second; he didn’t even blink as he watched Mingi with an unreadable expression on his face. Then, he snorted as if what Mingi said had been funny. He took a drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the sole of his boots.
“What books?” He asked, rubbing his chin as Mingi shrugged, handing him the small note.
“I have no idea, it’s for my friend.” Mingi muttered, “I’m in the Literature department.”
“Figured that much,” The man said as Mingi pouted, looking at him expectantly, “All of these books are down the next aisle.”
“Are you in the science department?” Mingi asked as he was handed back the paper. Their fingers brushed together, and Mingi gulped, his eyes glued to the dark ink that decorated the man’s long fingers. Mingi almost didn’t spot the red-stoned ring he wore, which was similar to the one on his own finger. He gulped again before he looked up, blushing when he saw the guy smirk at him as if he knew he had an effect on Mingi. Maybe he did know, Mingi wasn’t too hard to read after all.
“Something like that,” The guy answered, tilting his head as his smirk turned now amused, “Be a good doggie now and go fetch those books, huh?”
Mingi’s whole face turned red as he frowned, glaring at the man, “I’m not a dog.”
“No?” The man laughed, then walked past Mingi and bumped his shoulder into Mingi’s, “I could make you my bitch if I wanted to.”
Mingi scoffed as he turned to glare at the guy again, “Yeah, right, sure. This whole tough guy act isn’t really working, my guy. You should switch it up a bit, or one would think you’re stuck in high school.”
Mingi didn’t sit around waiting for the answer or a reaction, but he did see the way the man’s face dropped for a second, not expecting such a reply from Mingi. For someone who had almost killed him, the guy sure as hell didn’t look apologetic, even a little bit.
3 weeks later
Mingi was wondering if he had done something to warrant the tatted-up guy’s attention. He couldn’t decide whether he had said something that had seriously pissed him off, or if it was something that innocently caught his attention, making him curious about Mingi. He didn’t want to tell any of his friends since they had no idea about the guy, plus, Mingi was sure his friends had already forgotten all about him. The party was a long time ago, and they hadn’t met since then at any other party. So, Mingi couldn’t be bothered to bring it up again and explain it to his friends. He already knew their reactions. Seonghwa would tell him to sleep with him, and Jongho would firmly tell him to just let it go. So, Mingi had decided to keep it to himself and see where things were headed because ever since that incident in the library, the guy was everywhere. Mingi thought it was just a coincidence at first that they arrived at university at the same time. It happened, they both travelled on the same route, so it was bound they’d run into each other at some point. But then Mingi started noticing him in his neighbourhood, something that hadn’t happened until then.
At university, the guy was either trailing him or watching him from a distance, never quite approaching him. The few times he had approached Mingi, it was because he had dropped something, and the guy had picked it up for him. Or well, there was that one time Mingi was running late, so he took a shortcut through the baseball field and failed to notice the ball hurling towards him. Nothing happened since the tatted-up guy magically appeared next to him and caught the ball like it was nothing, his jaw clenching as he threw the ball back.
“What the fuck do you have eyes for if you won’t use them?” The guy snapped as he grabbed Mingi’s bicep and started dragging him through the field. Mingi gaped at him as he let the guy drag him around, his feet almost catching in each other, “You’re an embarrassment at your big age.”
“Jeez, thanks, man.” Mingi scoffed, then shook the man’s firm grip off his bicep. He fixed the strap of his backpack as he glared at Yunho, “I didn’t ask you to save me or whatever, so you can stop being an ass about it.”
“Maybe I should’ve let the ball give you a concussion if you’re so ungrateful.” The guy’s eyes narrowed at Mingi, and he scoffed, tilting his head.
“You’re delusional if you think I’m going to say thank you to the guy who almost ran me over.” Mingi snapped back, taking off before the guy could talk back to him. But he wasn’t getting off the hook so easily as the guy followed after him, hot on his tail.
“You’re still hung up on that? It happened ages ago.” The guy scoffed, and Mingi huffed, looking over his shoulder.
“And you never apologised for it.” Mingi retorted, his smile sarcastic, “So how about you tone it down and—”
Mingi gasped as he felt his feet tangle with the dry weed, and he was about to brace himself for the fall, but the firm grasp on his hips grounded him. His chest fell and rose rapidly as his heart raced, and Mingi’s wide eyes stared ahead as he felt a chest press into his back. The grip on his hips tightened as his body tensed, and he didn’t dare move when he felt a warm breath on his neck.
“Have you considered getting glasses?” The guy spoke lowly next to Mingi’s ear, and he had to hold himself back from shuddering. The guy was too close, too brave with his touches. Mingi’s cheeks flushed when he felt desire coil low in his stomach, the guy’s musky scent alluring as Mingi breathed it in greedily.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t touch me.” Mingi managed to say as he shook off the guy’s proximity with a shudder. He faced the man and gave him an unimpressed stare, “You think people will fall to their knees for you and do as you say just because you have an impressive number of tattoos on your body? I won’t, so be nicer, yeah?”
And Mingi was off, too old to deal with a guy who was acting like an adolescent. And maybe that was the turning point for the nameless tattooed stranger because not only did his eyes obsessively follow Mingi if he was in his sight, but he’d also hound Mingi’s personal space if they were in the same place. Mingi tried to ignore it at first, he really did, but it had gotten to a point where he couldn’t anymore. The man whose name Mingi had yet to learn had not only shown up in his neighbourhood, but also in front of his door. The knocks had been soft when Mingi opened the door, yawning as he had just awoken from his well-deserved nap. Papers for his internship were lying on his desk, and his small studio apartment was a mess, but he hadn’t been able to tidy it up. He also wasn’t expecting anyone, but maybe one of his friends came for a quick visit. Except that it was neither one of his friends, no, it was the tatted-up guy standing at his doorstop, face as expressionless as always. Mingi didn’t even think for a second before he slammed the door shut in his face, quickly locking it.
“What the fuck?!” He whispered to himself, his eyes wide. He was suddenly very awake as his heart started racing, recalling all memories he had with the guy to try and decipher if he had ever told him where he lived. But Mingi hadn’t; he was so sure of it, so how was the man standing at his door right now?
“What the fuck man?!” Mingi called louder so that the guy could hear him too. There were more knocks on his door but Mingi refused to open it, “I’m not opening my goddamn door, stop knocking!”
“That’s very rude.” Came the reply through the door, and Mingi shuddered, his hand on the second lock in case he needed to double lock up his small studio apartment.
“Man, you are standing in front of my door and I have never told you where I lived.” Mingi sounded mildly panicked, a lot calmer than he felt on the inside, “Don’t come and say it’s rude! Get lost!”
“Or you’ll call the cops?” The guy chuckled, and Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as he shuddered again. What the fuck, he had no idea what was happening right now, but his brain made sure to supply him with all the possible worst-case scenarios, “Imagine they show up and I’m just here, trying to hand you back the notebooks you left in class. And also, your wallet.”
Mingi opened his mouth to retort something back, only to pause. He froze, his eyebrows furrowing as he turned around to stare at his jacket. Did he really lose his wallet? He quickly went over and checked, eyes widening when he realised his wallet was missing. Mingi scoffed as he stomped back to his front door and unlocked it, ripping the door open. The guy was smirking as he toyed with the wallet in his hands, tilting his head at Mingi.
“Well, hello there, Sleeping Beauty.” Mingi frowned at the new nickname, but when he glanced up, he realised his hair was all dishevelled. He tried to fix it for a second, but it wasn’t his priority right now.
“Whatever, give me my stuff back.” Mingi snapped, trying to take his wallet, but the guy made sure to have some fun as he juggled with it, “You know you’re a creep for showing up at my place, right? You could’ve waited until tomorrow to give me my stuff back.”
“You don’t come to university tomorrow, nor the day after.” Mingi paused, his eyebrows furrowing. He needed a second to realise the guy was right, and for his own sake, he didn’t question how the dude knew.
“Right, my things. Hand them over, please?” Mingi extended his hand for his things, and the guy pondered over it for a second. Then, he slowly handed Mingi his things back, smirking at him.
“You live alone?” The guy asked as he glanced behind Mingi, his eyes searching the place. That didn’t sit right with Mingi, so he stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind himself.
“What does it matter to you?” He asked defensively, eyes narrowed.
“People don’t usually have roommates if they live in a studio apartment, that’s all.” The guy shrugged, pushing his hands in his pockets. He wore a hoodie today, so only his neck and hand tattoos were visible, and Mingi tried not to stare at the ink on his neck.
“You know where I live, and you also know my name.” Mingi changed the subject, gulping before he continued, feeling slightly nervous for no reason, “Who are you?”
“You finally thought to ask?” The guy chuckled, but Mingi wasn’t impressed as he raised his eyebrows.
“I’m nobody important, but my name is Yunho.”
“Yunho and…?”
“Jeong Yunho.”
“Alright, now can you go before I call the cops?”
“Why would you call the cops on me now, Mingi?”
“My ID was never in my wallet.”
Yunho didn’t look back as he left, and Mingi not only double locked his door but pulled the deadbolt on as well.
6 months since their first meeting at the party
The lights were strobing, and the music was deafening, playing an upbeat song that made Mingi’s heart thump in tandem. His body felt electrified as he danced, his eyes closed and his head thrown back as he jumped up and down, not very mindful of those around him. He was intoxicated, but it was the best feeling in the world to let loose after a stressful period. He had passed the first batch of his exams, and his internship was considering hiring him, so he was more than eager to celebrate with his friends. Friends whom he had no idea where they were, as he had wandered off not too long ago, drawn to the dance floor and the warm bodies that pressed together. He liked being engulfed by the masses, and he liked the appreciative touches. His body was pliable as his back arched, the sudden arms around his torso throwing him off just for a second. He wasn’t looking for a meaningful connection tonight; he just wanted someone who would satisfy his burning needs. Someone who wasn’t inked up and had a stare so intense it left Mingi’s knees shaking. Someone who wouldn’t want him so ardently that they’d set the world on fire for him. That burning heat was consuming; it scared Mingi. Could he escape it? Could he leave Yunho if he wanted to, when he wanted it?
“You’re gorgeous,” Mingi shuddered at the whispered words into his ear, warm lips pressing against his skin. His lips were tender but purposeful as they kissed down Mingi’s nape, and his body was pliant again, leaning back into the warmth of the person holding him so possessively.
“How did you find me?” Mingi asked, his heart racing, but he didn’t want to turn around in his hold, “How did you know where I was?”
“You posted it on your socials.” Right, Mingi forgot about that, “If you didn’t want me here, you wouldn’t have made it so clear where you’d be. Don’t try to deny it.”
He was right, Mingi assumed. He smiled to himself before he turned in the man’s hold, his smile lopsided. Yunho didn’t look too impressed with him, but his arms tightened around Mingi as he drunkenly giggled, leaning so close to Yunho’s face that their lips almost touched.
“I forgot you follow my every move,” Mingi said breathlessly, his body swaying against Yunho’s. His black tee’s sleeves were rolled up to show off his arm tattoos, and Mingi found himself mindlessly tracing them, mesmerised by the black ink. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it be the last one, “I dressed up, but not for you.”
“I know.” Yunho’s jaw clenched as Mingi grinned, sneaking his arms around Yunho’s neck. Yunho’s jaw clenched as Mingi bit his bottom lip, “You are coming home tonight with me.”
“I don’t want to, Yunho,” Mingi whined, lips jutting out almost cutely.
“It doesn’t matter what you want, you’ll thank me once you’ve sobered up.” Yunho scoffed as Mingi huffed back, tightening his arms around Yunho’s neck.
“You are wrong,” Mingi snapped, his eyes narrowing, “I told you it’s over.”
“Then fucking find someone new.” Yunho hissed, grabbing Mingi’s nape with one hand, his other hand still gripping Mingi’s hip.
“No,” Mingi flinched when he felt Yunho’s nails dig into his flesh through his thin tank top, “I do what I want, not what you tell me.”
Yunho smirked, his hand sneaking down to Mingi’s jaw as he tilted his head back before he grabbed his chin painfully. Mingi didn’t move as Yunho squeezed his chin, puckering Mingi’s lips to kiss breathless. And Mingi moaned when their lips collided, hungry and needy for no one but Yunho as he clung to him. He parted his mouth eagerly as Yunho’s tongue prodded at his bottom lip, and they moaned in unison once their tongues met. It was hot inside the club, but Mingi’s body was burning up from Yunho, not the heat. His head swum from the alcohol as well as Yunho’s alluring cologne—musky but sweet—and he was slowly turning putty in Yunho’s arms as he sucked on his tongue. Mingi’s been conflicted with what he wanted for a long time now. Yunho scared him, but Yunho also made him feel things he’d never felt before. He was always everywhere Mingi went; Yunho always wanted Mingi to act like he demanded. Mingi wasn’t terrified of him, per se, but he was wary; he knew how men like Yunho were, how dangerous and damaging they could get if he let them too close. But Yunho was so addictive, so sweet and easy to play with, Mingi wanted him whole. He needed Yunho to spice up his ordinary life, and he clung to him even when his mind knew better than his heart.
His lips were swollen as Yunho nicked and licked at them, their chests heaving as Mingi felt Yunho’s hands grab his ass and squeeze hard, making him almost choke on his own spit. He wanted to feel Yunho’s body on him, his bareness breathtaking. Mingi thought Yunho was more addictive than any drug he’d ever tried, and no rehab could make him recover now that he’d gotten a taste of him.
“Yunho,” Mingi moaned against his lips, his eyes closed, “Take me home.”
“Yeah,” Yunho gulped, pressing his lips hungrily against Mingi’s again. Their lungs burned, but neither cared as they kissed, tongues lapping messily at each other’s mouths, “I’ll take you home. And I’ll never let you leave again.”
Somehow, Yunho had managed to weave himself into Mingi’s life, becoming part of the intricate web that connected people, creating a bond which was anything but what Mingi had experienced before. They were friends of sorts, they were lovers on some other days, but what was most important is that Yunho was determined to keep Mingi by his side—on a leash if necessary—because Mingi was the rational voice he’d always needed. What he did when Mingi wasn’t around was no one’s concern, not even Mingi’s. The tattoos on his body weren’t just to decorate his body, to make him hotter, they had a significance Yunho wouldn’t divulge, at least not so soon, and not to Mingi. Maybe Mingi’d realise for himself along the way, maybe he’d try to run away, but it will be too late. When Yunho wanted someone, there was nothing that could stop him from getting that person. Mingi didn’t have to know that, though; he was supposed to believe that Yunho was madly in love with him, a little bit obsessive, a bit too possessive.
Their meeting was accidental, but their ending would be premeditated.