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Mingyu thumbs at the loose thread in the carpet, glancing up periodically at Jeonghan as he meticulously lays out the papers and takes out his grinder. It's hot outside, and the two of them are sitting cross-legged on the floor of Jeonghan's apartment with the fan whirring in the background.
"I haven't smoked in ages," Mingyu admits sheepishly, leaning his head back to rest on the side of the bed.
Last semester, he and Minghao would light up on a regular basis - smoking a bowl and making midnight McDonalds' runs had been their thing. Now, Minghao was studying abroad, and Mingyu hadn't had McDonalds in weeks. He had always hated asking other people for weed (yes, Mingyu realizes that he's a terrible stoner, and he's working on it). Working up the nerve to ask Jeonghan after class had been rewarded with an easy smile and an invitation, though; it had been a relief, but it definitely didn't help Mingyu's crush any. You win some, you lose some, he figures.
Jeonghan hums absent-mindedly, carefully packing the joint with steady fingers. Mingyu notes that Jeonghan has weird looking hands, but he's equally fascinated with how efficient they are. Pausing briefly to tuck an offending lock of hair out of his face and behind his ear, Jeonghan looks up to give Mingyu an assessing look, then returns to the task at hand. "It'll be that much better then," he says softly, entirely focused, and Mingyu has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop thinking about how nice his voice sounds in the calm of the room.
Jeonghan's voice proves to be the least of Mingyu's problems when he brings the joint up to his mouth to lick it closed, wetting the paper carefully with his tongue.
"You're good at this," Mingyu says without thinking, face heating up promptly, but Jeonghan just laughs loudly and grins at him.
"Cute," he says, lifting the joint up to Mingyu's mouth and directing, "open," as he lights the end. It 's pure muscle memory that prompts him to follow through and inhale deeply, since Mingyu's brain effectively stops working the moment Jeonghan's fingers brush against his lips. Every action feels slow yet completely deliberate, and Mingyu should have the presence of mind to act nervous, or shy, or even coy - at least possess some sort of reaction to Jeonghan's boldness, his toothy smile and sharp eyes.
Instead, Mingyu looks at him dumbly before craning his neck to the side to avoid blowing smoke straight into Jeonghan's face - no one thinks that's cute. When he turns back, Jeonghan's lazily taking a hit, hair curling soft against his neck, eyelashes long on his cheeks, mouth pursed as he -
"Mingyu," Jeonghan calls, singsong-y, "you're staring," and the lilt in his voice turns into a peal of laughter. Maybe, if Mingyu was sober, he could explain why Jeonghan's laugh, entirely generic and almost monotone in its timbre, is as endearing as it is.
"Oh." He shrugs, and he can't help the smile from spreading across his face. Mingyu likes being high, the relaxed weightlessness of it, and he decides that he likes how comfortable it is being high with Jeonghan even more. "You're pretty," he continues matter-of-factly and leans over to take the joint.
Jeonghan seems to have other plans - how does he even think so quickly when Mingyu can barely string two sentences together without giggling? Eyes briefly narrowing at Mingyu in consideration, he loudly decides, "We should do something fun." Later, Mingyu will think to himself: famous last words.
Before he has time to blink, Mingyu registers one of Jeonghan's hands gripping his shoulders for balance as his legs gracefully slide around Mingyu's waist. On impulse, his hands grip Jeonghan's thighs to steady him, and he swallows thickly at the sly curve of Jeonghan's mouth.
"Have you ever done this?" Jeonghan asks.
"What, sitting on someone's lap?" Mingyu pauses to think. "Well, once I was really drunk and I tried to sit on my friend Wonwoo, but he pushed me onto the ground, so I'm not really sure if that counts." If Mingyu had known before-hand that being embarrassing could make Jeonghan laugh like that, in the way that flips his stomach upside-down and turns it inside-out with just how enamored he is, then he would have never tried to stop his stoned word-vomit.
"Shotgunning, you giant dork." Jeonghan's smile is fond, his head tilted in a question - an invitation? Either way, Mingyu shakes his head no and bites his cheek again. He's going to have the worst sore tomorrow.
Jeonghan leans forward even closer, and Mingyu can smell his hair (clean, citrusy). "Do you want to?" he murmurs, waiting for Mingyu to mumble yes before grinning wide. "Come here, then."
Jeonghan takes a long drag before gently cupping Mingyu's jaw to tilt it slightly, move it so that their mouths align. When Mingyu opens his mouth, the smoke passing hazily between them is just an after-thought to the way their lips graze, warm and soft. He breathes it in, and Jeonghan pulling away makes Mingyu distinctly aware of how much he wants to breathe him in.
A still minute passes before Mingyu articulates as eloquently as he can: "Woah."
Jeonghan snorts loudly but looks pleased with the reaction, eyes curving upward. "Yeah?" he asks, and Mingyu thinks he might be preening, thinks Jeonghan probably just likes the praise, and wants to shower him with it.
"Yeah," and the word is breathed quiet between them as Mingyu licks his lips, testing the words, "Can we do it again?"
To watch Jeonghan smile indulgently at him and listen to endearments - "Of course we can, silly" and "you're so cute" - spilling from his lips is like having sweet syrup trickling down his spine and weighing him down with desire; a desire to hear more, to know more, to lift Jeonghan up and kiss him until his mouth was sore. But Mingyu's getting ahead of himself. The joint is burning out into ash quickly, and he finishes it off with a deep inhale, crushing it into the plate nearby. He snakes a hand into Jeonghan's hair (any excuse to touch his hair, really, Mingyu wonders if Jeonghan will let him play with it later) to cradle ¬his head and exhale into his mouth gently. When Mingyu pulls back, Jeonghan is watching him with lidded eyes.
"I can't tell if you've always been this attractive, or if you're really high and it's making it worse," Mingyu says.
"Both, of course," Jeonghan responds plainly, adjusts the hair out of face, and continues, "I'm going to kiss you now."
No one can blame Mingyu for the surprised noise he makes as Jeonghan suddenly presses his lips to Mingyu's mouth. He's barely thinking, moving on auto-pilot to wrap his arms around Jeonghan's waist, hyperaware of every touch. Jeonghan's hands wind around his neck as he sweeps his tongue across Mingyu's lower lip, insistent. Mingyu can't deny him anything (doesn't want to, really), and he opens his mouth only to have Jeonghan slowly lick his way in, suck on Mingyu's tongue. He has the presence of mind to think that Jeonghan is a menace before he bites down gently on Mingyu's lower lip, and Mingyu groans low in his throat.
"You're so hot," he breathes, almost laughs because he's really high and Jeonghan's the hottest person he's ever had in his lap. Granted, he's also the only person, but that's beside the point.
"Do something about it," Jeonghan challenges in return, taking the opportunity to curl his hands in the hair at Mingyu's neck and tug slightly. If the soft, breathy sounds he was making wasn't enough to motivate Mingyu, that definitely is. It's not his fault that he's always been weak for hair-pulling.
He moves his mouth to press gentle kisses along Jeonghan's jaw, on the soft skin behind his ear, down his neck, determined to cover every inch of his skin. When he stops at the curve between Jeonghan's neck and shoulder to suck a mark into the hollow of his throat, Jeonghan moans. Mingyu's head spins. Overwhelmed with how much he wants, he rests his forehead on Jeonghan's chest to take a breath. Skin tingling when Jeonghan inches his fingers under the hem of Mingyu's shirt, barely grazing his lower back, Mingyu shudders and looks up at him beseechingly.
"How pretty," Jeonghan murmurs, using the tips of his fingers to trace over Mingyu's jaw, his mouth, then tap his nose cutely. As Mingyu feels the tips of his ears heat up, Jeonghan pulls back, lip pulled between his teeth in thought. Then: "Do you want to get some chicken?"
Mingyu isn't sure if he heard wrong, considering his tongue had been in Jeonghan's mouth not even a minute ago. "Sorry, what?"
"I asked if you wanted to get some chicken," Jeonghan says, punctuating chicken as if it was life-threatening. "I'm really craving something that'll ruin my teeth, and wings are probably the best thing so I'm not just drinking straight Coke by the gallon," he continues retrospectively, and Mingyu's unsure if Jeonghan is even talking to him at this point.
"Right now?"
"Yeah," Jeonghan shoots him a pointed look. "Unless you wanted to suck my dick, I don't see what could be more important."
Mingyu's eyes widen perceptibly. "I mean, I'm not exactly opposed," he starts, and Jeonghan's reciprocal giggle sounds pleasantly surprised.
"After, then," Jeonghan says, smile reaching his eyes, so Mingyu grabs his hand to stand up and follow.
+++
The fried chicken place turns out to be two blocks from Jeonghan's apartment, which wouldn't be a big deal if Jeonghan wasn't practically batting his eyes asking Mingyu to carry him there.
"You're kidding," Mingyu says, incredulous. One look at Jeonghan's expectant face tells him that no, he is most definitely not kidding.
"You'd already be laughing if I made a joke," Jeonghan says confidently, then pouts. "Please?"
Mingyu's still high enough to register how cute Jeonghan looks and lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips without thinking about it. "Sure," he shrugs, pleased with Jeonghan's brief yet owlish look of shock, and leans down so that he can hop on.
With Jeonghan's legs wrapped around his waist and his arms loosely encircling his neck, Mingyu sets off down the street in the general direction that Jeonghan had pointed. What he forgets is that being tall plays absolutely no part in how fit someone is, and he definitely feels the lack of recent physical activity (or any activity, since Overwatch had come out).
"This is how I die," he wheezes, but Jeonghan petting his hair gently from atop his back helps a little.
"We're almost there," Jeonghan says, nuzzling his face into Mingyu's neck and mumbling a thank you against it. For the rest of the way, Mingyu doesn't mind the burn in his stomach and thighs so much.
Nearly stumbling inside, Mingyu sits at a table to regain the feeling in his legs while Jeonghan goes to order. When he comes back with a bucket of chicken and a soda the size of his entire forearm, Mingyu snorts.
"You weren't joking about that sweet tooth," he says over Jeonghan noisily sucking through the straw.
"Shut up, I bought you chicken," Jeonghan says, but Mingyu's already tearing into a piece and burning his tongue with an oh shit, fuck, that's hot. They eat the first few pieces in comfortable silence. It's nice - sitting with someone cute, enjoying their company. He absent-mindedly thinks that he wouldn't mind spending more time with Jeonghan in the future, doing nothing in particular. Or making out. Either one would do.
Jeonghan kicks him lightly under the table. "What are you thinking about?"
Mingyu kicks him back, takes the time to lick the grease off his fingertips before answering. "I dunno. Video games. Kissing you. Nothing new."
Mingyu enjoys how giggly Jeonghan is, even if it's because he's not completely sober. It's cute and charming and he smiles to himself, tucks it away to tell him so later. Jeonghan picks at the skin of a piece before throwing it back in the bucket, disinterested. Wiping his hands and leaning his chin onto them, he asks, completely coy, "Did you have more fun smoking with me than your friends?"
"You want me to rank you?" Mingyu asks, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes." Jeonghan's expression is so absurdly serious, as if Mingyu's opinion of him is dire in that moment, and Mingyu forgets himself, laughs loudly with his head thrown back. The man at the table across from them glares at him, and he smiles apologetically.
Mingyu makes a show of thinking about the question just to see Jeonghan glower at him across the table. "Oh my god, don't look so disappointed," he laughs, "you're my favorite."
"Really?" Jeonghan asks, glowing momentarily before smiling smugly, satisfied. "Good."
"It's at least tied for first with that time Minghao got crossed and decided to streak through the neighborhood." Minghao would hate him for this, but he's never going to let him live it down. It's his prerogative after seeing that much naked ass running around his backyard.
"I'll take it," Jeonghan says, and they're smiling at each other over the table, sickeningly cute but Mingyu doesn't mind in the least. When they're leaving, Jeonghan elbows him in the side before reaching down and threading their fingers together. Sharp, then soft - it's fitting; Mingyu thinks that he's probably going to be smoking a lot more often now (but he’s not worried).