Work Text:
Song Mingi was having what could only be described as a perfectly acceptable Friday night.
He was horizontal on the couch in the way only someone who paid half the rent could justify. One leg was hooked over the armrest, while the other was perilously close to the coffee table. The television was playing something he wasn’t really watching. His phone was face-down and his brain was empty.
Peace, to a twenty-six-year-old man, had been achieved.
But then the front door clicked open.
Mingi didn’t even look up. “Hey,” he said, around a mouthful of chips. “You’re home early.”
“Hey,” Yunho said back after a weird pause. His voice was also weird. Higher? Tighter? Like he was smiling too hard.
Mingi frowned and finally turned his head.
Yunho was standing just inside the door, still wearing his shoes, keys clutched in one hand like he’d forgotten what they were for. He was wearing a hoodie—gray and hung loose over his frame in a way so Yunho-ly. His hair was slightly messed up. All in all, he was the same Yunho he had been living with for almost a year now after being best friends for literally eighty percent of his life.
Except he was fidgeting like a kid about to confess to breaking a vase.
“You good?” Mingi asked.
“Yeah! Totally. I just—” Yunho laughed nervously. “Can I ask you something?”
Mingi shrugged. “Uh. Sure?”
Yunho nodded to himself. He took a breath. He took another breath. Then he tugged the hoodie over his head.
What was a perfectly acceptable Friday night had now turned into something not that.
The very straight, very not gay Song Mingi made a noise that was like a Windows shutdown sound, because under the hoodie was lingerie.
Black, delicate, unreasonable small lingerie. There were straps where straps should not be. There was lace that had no business being in his living room on a Friday at 1:27 a.m.
Mingi stared and Yunho just stood there, arms awkwardly crossed over his chest, shoulder slightly hunched. He looked—of all things—nervous.
“So,” Yunho said, rocking on his heels. “How do we feel?”
Nothing happened for a solid three seconds. Then Mingi’s soul left his body, tripped, and fell down the stairs.
“I—” he started, stopped and restarted. “You—uhm.”
Words were not loading correctly.
Yunho tilted his head. “Is it that bad?”
“No,” Mingi said immediately, way too fast. “No! Not bad. It’s—it’s fine. Great. Very—yeah.”
He realized, instantly, that his hands had clenched so hard around the chip bowl that it was in danger. He set it aside with great care, as if any sudden movement might summon the devil.
Yunho’s eyes flicked over him. Lingered, even.
Mingi felt heat crawl up his neck in ways only an omega from the fanfiction that Yunho read felt. His cock was traitorous and decided that now was the time to wake up, even though he was trying his hardest to jack off before Yunho came home. He grabbed the nearest throw pillow and slapped it onto his lap with all the subtlety of a crime scene cover-up.
Yunho noticed, of course.
“Oh,” Yunho said, his nervous tone now turning into something more… curious.
He straightened a little, even if he wasn’t. Something in him shifted, like he was an “oh”, and now he was an “oh”. His shoulders relaxed and a smile finally crept in.
“Well,” he said, “that’s good.”
And then he spun.
He turned around and gave Mingi a full, unfiltered view of his ass in lace.
Mingi made a noise. It was not a word.
“Yunho—” he tried, voice cracking. “You don’t—you don’t have to—”
“Do you like it?” Yunho asked, peeking over his shoulder. “I wasn’t sure about the straps. Are they too much?”
Mingi nodded so hard he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Mhm. Yup. Great. Love straps. Big fan.”
The pillow was doing god’s work. Mingi did not even love straps. He did not know where that came from. Though if he had an idea where, it would probably come from something that started with the letter “c” and ended with “ock”.
Yunho turned back around and took a few steps closer. He was getting dangerously close. He leaned down and braced his hands on either side of the pillow, invading Mingi’s space without actually touching him.
Mingi forgot how lungs worked.
Yunho looked up at him through his lashes, eyes wide and pretty and evil. “You’re sure it’s okay?”
“Yes,” Mingi squeaked. “Fantastic. Ten out of ten.”
Yunho smiled. Then, just as suddenly, he straightened (again, not that he actually was), and clapped his hands once. “Okay! Thanks for helping!”
Helping?
He grabbed the hoodie, pulled it back on, and disappeared into their room like he hadn’t just done… whatever that was.
The door closed and Mingi just sat there, pillow welded to his lap, staring at the now-blank television screen.
Mingi learned two important things after that incident. One, he might not be so straight after all. And two, Yunho had tasted blood.
He lost count of how many days it had been. Six? Seven days? And all throughout those days, Yunho behaved normally.
Painfully normally.
He wore jeans. T-shirts. Hoodies. He ate cereal out of the box. He asked Mingi if he’d seen the charger of his phone. He existed in a way that suggested Friday Night Lingerie, Live With Yunho and Mingi had just been a shared hallucination.
Mingi almost convinced himself of it.
Almost.
Then, on another Friday, Yunho padded out of their room barefoot, holding his phone.
“Mingi,” he said casually. “Can I get your opinion again?”
Mingi, already tired from work and running on a dangerously low level of self-preservation, sighed. “About what?”
Yunho stepped into the living room.
Fishnets.
Fishnets stretched over long legs, catching the light in a way that should be illegal during the Victorian era. An oversized white shirt hung off one shoulder, long enough to technically count as coverage.
He had no pants, obviously.
Mingi froze mid-sip of his drink. The straw slid out of his mouth.
Yunho blinked innocently. “Too much?”
Mingi swallowed hard. “Why,” he asked carefully, “are you wearing that.”
Yunho looked down at himself, then back up. “I saw it online. Thought it looked cool. Do they make my legs look weird?”
“No,” Mingi said immediately. “Your legs look… normal.”
That was a lie. His legs looked like they had been designed specifically to seduce a not-so-straight man sitting down on a sofa.
Yunho smiled and walked closer. Mingi didn’t move. He couldn’t. His body had locked up like a deer in headlights, except the headlights were Yunho’s thighs.
Yunho turned one leg this way, then that. “What about from the side?”
“Still legs,” Mingi croaked.
Yunho hummed. Then, without any warning whatsoever—he climbed on Mingi’s lap and just… sat there.
He put his full weight on top of him and his fishnets dug into Mingi’s skin through thin pants.
Mingi made a sound that might have been what was left of his straightness leaving.
“YUNHO—”
Yunho’s hands landed lightly on Mingi’s shoulders. He leaned in close enough that Mingi could smell his shampoo.
“You okay?” Yunho asked softly.
Mingi was not okay. His hands hovered uselessly in the air, unsure where they were allowed to exist. His heart was pounding so loudly he was convinced Yunho could hear it.
Yunho noticed his lost and frankly, terrified hands. “Oh,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Before Mingi could think to stop him, Yunho reached out and gently guided Mingi’s hands down, placing them on his waist.
Mingi sucked in a sharp breath.
Yunho froze instantly. “Hey,” he said softly. “Is that—” He tilted his head, eyes back to being earnest. “Do you not like it?”
“No,” he said. He swallowed saliva that was pooling either because of the fishnets or the fact that his best friend was straddling his lap. “I do. I like it.”
Yunho’s shoulders relaxed.
“Oh,” he said again, this time warmer and almost more shy.
He shifted slightly, settling his weight more fully, still watching Mingi’s face like he was bracing for rejection. “What about… this?”
He moved—just a small movement like he was asking for permission with his whole body.
Mingi’s grip tightened on instinct.
Yunho noticed that too. His lashes fluttered.
“Yunho, what—what are you doing?” Mingi managed to mutter.
“Just…” Yunho’s voice dropped into a sultry, seductive tone he had never heard before. “Doing some friend stuff.”
He rocked onto Mingi again, who was now fully hard underneath Yunho. The taller man would have been an idiot not to notice, and yet he still kept moving.
Yunho looked at Mingi right in the eyes, before his gaze lowered to his lips. “Still good?”
Mingi nodded, because words had now completely abandoned him.
Yunho smiled and leaned in closer, forehead brushing Mingi’s shoulder. He stayed there for a heartbeat, breathing him in, bodies perfectly aligned in a way that felt far too intentional to be accidental at all.
“Good,” Yunho whispered.
And then, because he was Yunho and he was cruel—he pulled back. He slipped off of Mingi’s lap like nothing had happened.
Mingi was left sitting there, hands still curved around empty air, chest heaving and cock achingly hard, staring after Yunho like he’d just been hit by a truck driven by audacity itself.
Yunho paused at the doorway and glanced back. “Thanks for telling me!” he said sweetly.
The door closed, and Mingi swore to never let this happen again.
It happened again.
Mingi should have known something was wrong the moment it was too quiet again. It was only a matter before—
“Mingi?” Yunho called from the hallway.
Ah. There it was.
Mingi, slumped at the dining table with his laptop and the thousand-yard stare of a man who had not known peace in a long time, sighed. “Yeah?”
“Can you come here for a sec?”
That fucking tone again.
Mingi stood anyway. Because he was weak. Because he had apparently learned nothing. He rounded the corner and stopped dead.
Yunho was kneeling on the living room rug.
Kneeling.
Wearing a skirt. Soft fabric and extremely short where it didn’t even cover his thighs at all. He wore panties underneath—the pink one that he didn’t even try to hide at all. His hair was neat and his hands were resting on his own thighs like he was posing for something.
He looked up at Mingi with a grin. “Oh good,” Yunho said. “Hi.”
Mingi forgot how to blink. “Why,” he said slowly and carefully, “are you on the floor.”
Yunho tilted his head and pouted. “No reason.”
That was a lie. A malicious one.
He rocked back slightly on his heels, skirt riding up another inch, eyes never leaving Mingi’s face. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?” Mingi managed to murmur.
“You.”
Mingi’s mouth opened and yet once again, no words came out. Yunho was clearly impatient and could not bother to wait for him to speak. He shuffled forward on his knees, just enough to close the distance, resting his hands lightly on Mingi’s thighs. He looked up at him through his lashes, all faux-innocence.
“Do you like the skirt?” Yunho asked. “Or is it too… much?”
Mingi’s throat bobbed.
“No,” he said. “It’s fine.”
Yunho smiled wider. Brattier. Even more so than Charli XCX. “Just fine?”
“I—” Mingi exhaled. He was frustrated, and worst of all, flustered (and hard—but that’s not really a bad thing). “Yunho.”
“Yes?” His eyes shined expectantly.
“Stand up.”
The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he had said.
Yunho froze. Slowly, slowly, his smile changed. “Oh? You want me to?”
Mingi’s pulse was in his ears. “I didn’t—I mean—”
But it was too late. Yunho already stood up. Then, without breaking eye contact, he stepped forward and pushed Mingi down the sofa. He then climbed right onto his lap like it was exactly where he belonged. His hands braced on Mingi’s shoulders. His skirt fell just enough to make it obscene, and his panties were warm against Mingi’s thighs.
Wet, even.
Mingi gasped, making Yunho laugh quietly. “Well, you ordered me.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did,” Yunho said sweetly. “And I listened to you, didn’t I?”
He shifted, just slightly. But it was enough to make Mingi’s hands twitch where they hovered uselessly again.
Yunho caught and guided them where they belonged once again. “Ah—ah, you know where those go.”
Mingi was shaking.
Yunho leaned in, brushing his ear. “You’re really bad at pretending you don’t like this.”
Mingi felt like his neck had been shot by a gun. Yunho’s words were more chilling this time. There was no semblance of a joke anymore. It didn’t help that his cock was leaking through his panties, staining both his underwear and Mingi’s crotch.
“You’re—” Mingi swallowed. He was sweating bullets at this point. He was very hard and very horny. He knew Yunho knew he was very hard and very horny. “You’re being a brat.”
Yunho beamed. “I know.”
For some godforsaken reason that Mingi did not know, his hips bucked up at his response. His cock, as clothed and as covered as it was, hit—what Mingi could only assume, based on the dip of the crevice—Yunho’s hole.
The older of the best friends gasped, clearly surprised at what Mingi just did. He looked at Mingi wide-eyed, before they relaxed and his grin only spread wider.
“Didn’t know you had it in you,” Yunho chuckled, biting his lip while staring at Mingi’s. “Still okay?”
Mingi nodded helplessly.
Yunho grinned and kissed Mingi on the nose. “Good.”
Then, because he was evil—he gave Mingi a peck on the lips as well. “Next time,” he said cheerfully, “I’m not just stopping here like this, got it?”
And once again, because Mingi was a weak, weak man—he nodded.
Yunho hopped off Mingi’s lap with his skirt swishing. He then walked away like he hadn’t just dismantled Mingi’s entire sense of self.
Mingi collapsed back into the sofa as Yunho slammed the door. His cock was leaking just as much as Yunho’s did—even more. So he did what any other man would do in this situation.
He took out his cock, letting it stand its full, seven inch glory. Very many men were envious of his length, and yet Yunho seemed to be the exception. Whether that shattered his ego or made him more curious—Mingi did not want to know.
What he wanted to know was how Yunho’s hole felt. Ever since he admitted to himself that he was not straight, all he could ever do was think of Yunho. And now that he felt the slightest connection between cock and ass, he wanted more. Craved more.
Mingi lightly tugged on his cock, squeezing a few globs of precum onto his stomach. He kept going and going until he was properly jerking himself off. He imagined Yunho on top of him again, riding him until he came more times than he would ever want to in his life.
He thought about how tight Yunho’s hole would be—how it would clench around his cock as he thrusted hard and fast into him, over and over. He thought about kissing Yunho now that he felt his lips on himself. He imagined himself fucking his mouth with his tongue with Yunho moaning around and through him.
It wasn’t long until Mingi was panting. His mouth opened low and his tongue was hanging out as he thoroughly fucked his hand. He changed his position—he was now crouching on top of the sofa, thrusting up into his hand as he rolled his eyes back. It was, by all means, lustful and indecent—and yet all Mingi could think of was Yunho kneeling down with his tongue out, urging for him to cum all over his face.
And cum he did. He sprayed all over the coffee table, the rug, and even onto the sofa itself. He moaned as loud as he could without alerting Yunho (spoiler alert, he did), thrusting just a few more times before finally stopping and sitting down properly.
Mingi looked at the mess he had made and his senses finally snapped back to him. And only one thought was scribbled across his mind when he finally managed to form them.
He needed to fuck Yunho.
And perhaps he would finally do so as the place was quiet the moment he unlocked the door. There was no noise whatsoever. Which was weird, considering Yunho sent him a text that said “waiting 4 u ;)” just twenty minutes before work ended. Mingi almost rushed out the door but he managed to calm himself down at the end and leave work on time. Luckily for him, the traffic wasn’t so bad.
Unluckily for him, Yunho was nowhere to be seen.
“Yunho?” he called out. There was no answer.
Everything felt larger and longer than usual. The lights were also dimmer, if that was even possible. His footsteps sounded too loud, and with every step, his pulse climbed. Anticipation tangled with exhaustion, and Mingi couldn’t tell them apart anymore.
The bedroom door creaked open.
Mingi cautiously stepped inside.
Yunho was on the bed.
He wasn’t lounging or even sprawled on it. He was waiting.
One of his wrists was cuffed to the headboard. It was pink and fuzzy and unmistakably sexual. The other hand was free, drifting idly over his own body—from his nipples to his navel, he was, by all means, playing with himself.
He wasn’t naked. That would’ve been merciful.
Instead, he was wearing a pink lace panty. It was delicate and didn’t even manage to accommodate the large hard-on he was sporting right now.
Yunho turned his head when he noticed Mingi, eyes lighting up immediately.
“You’re home,” he said, like he was his husband and this was simply just a roleplay between the two of them.
“What is this?” Mingi managed to say.
Yunho smiled. “You looked tired this morning.”
That did not answer the question.
Mingi stepped closer. His cock was getting harder and harder by the second, and yet he still stepped closer. “You texted me.”
“I know.” Yunho shifted slightly, the cuff tugging softly against the headboard. “Did you not want me to wait?”
The way he said wait made it sound like a choice Mingi had already made.
“Yunho.”
“Yes?”
“You can’t just do this.” Mingi faltered, gesturing at this.
Yunho watched him carefully. “Then tell me to stop.”
Mingi opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Yunho was right in front of him, laid on the bed so perfectly like he was presented for Mingi and Mingi only. He was ready by the looks of the buttplug inside of him—and yet Mingi still hesitated. He didn’t even know why he was hesitating. All he had wanted this past week was to fuck Yunho, and now that Yunho was in front of him and ready to be fucked, Mingi couldn’t seem to go through with it.
Yunho seemed to notice his hesitation, because he smiled and threw Mingi another pair of cuffs. “I mean it, you know?”
Mingi looked at him and furrowed his brows. That made the older of the two laugh.
“Mingi.”
“Yes?”
“I want, no sorry—I need you to fuck me.” Yunho said.
Mingi sat on the edge of the bed after his legs gave out on him. His hands shook. He didn’t look at Yunho’s body—couldn’t afford to—but his presence filled the room anyway.
“You’ve been ruining me,” Mingi said finally. “Do you know that?”
Yunho’s expression softened somewhat. “I hoped.”
Mingi laughed once. He finally reached out before he could think better of it, grabbing Yunho’s free hand and chaining his wrist with the cuffs to the headboard.
“There’s no going back after this, you know?” Mingi muttered.
Yunho laughed at that. “I’ve humped you two times already. I think the point of no return has passed already.”
Mingi giggled, before locking eyes with Yunho. His expecting, shining eyes looked at Mingi like he had hung the world for only Yunho to appreciate. He leaned down and finally, finally kissed Yunho. Properly, unlike the peck from a week ago.
The two shared a sloppy and an honestly embarrassingly clumsy kiss. It was Yunho’s tongue who infiltrated Mingi’s mouth, and Mingi gladly let him in. Their tongues danced and Mingi couldn’t help but suck on it. Yunho giggled and retracted it then, before sucking on the bottom of Mingi’s lip, turning the sleazy makeout into a horny, unrestrained one.
Mingi stripped his clothes one by one, and every time a piece of his clothing dropped to the floor, Yunho made sure to worship the skin that was revealed per article dropped.
When he dropped his jacket, Yunho kissed and bit Mingi’s biceps.
When he took his tank top off, Yunho praised his torso, kissing and licking all over his pecs, his nipples, and even his abs.
When he took his pants off, Yunho made praises to his thighs and of course his raging hard boner.
And when he finally took his boxers off, Yunho’s mouth watered. He looked up at Mingi to ask permission for it, to which he gladly gave.
Yunho immediately wrapped his lips around Mingi’s tip, swirling his tongue around his head. Mingi groaned, his hand flying to Yunho’s head to guide him. Slowly, Yunho sank deeper and deeper, savoring every inch of Mingi’s cock. His eyes started watering, but both Yunho and Mingi didn’t seem to care. When he finally reached the hilt of his cock, Mingi let out a moan that he swore reverberated through the whole building.
Yunho stayed at the base of his cock for what felt like eternity without Mingi even holding his head in place. When he finally retracted and pulled his cock out his mouth, Yunho was frowning.
“Did it not seem obvious with the handcuffs that I want you to use me?” he asked, before licking the underside of Mingi’s tip. “Be rough, Mingi. Don’t be a pussy.”
With that, he sank down on Mingi’s cock once again. He bobbed his head up and down, and Mingi swore he saw heaven. He seemed to forget what Yunho had just said because a foot hit his leg, prompting him to remember his words.
Reluctantly, Mingi started to thrust into his mouth, starting from an uneasy pace and evolving into a fast, wrathful one. Yunho didn’t seem to have any gag reflex though, as he just accepted Mingi’s relentless fucking of his mouth. When he pulled out to catch his breath, Yunho was grinning. He then dipped down to lick his balls, before sucking one into his mouth and licking it all over.
The sensation overloaded Mingi so much too fast that he felt himself at the edge of cumming right then and there. He pushed Yunho’s head away, earning Yunho a chuckle.
“Too much?” he asked, licking his lips with his tongue.
Mingi didn’t respond with an answer though, instead ordering Yunho to, “Open your mouth and put your tongue out.”
Yunho arched his brow but didn’t resist, immediately doing what Mingi had just ordered him to. When he did, Mingi slapped his cock on his tongue before chuckling. “This is what you want, hm?”
Yunho nodded before the whole length of Mingi’s cock entered his mouth. He finally almost choked, but it was only an almost. He adjusted quickly, taking Mingi in easily and instead turning the tables against him. Mingi didn’t know how or what he was doing, but his entire cock was feeling his tongue all over it, and Mingi couldn’t do anything but pull out in fear of cumming too early.
Mingi looked down at him with all the lust of a man yearning for his best friend. Not romantically, but yearning to absolutely decimate both his holes. With one down, there was only one logical next step.
He pulled away slightly to kneel down in his legs, and what was in front of him was Yunho’s leaking, throbbing cock and a buttplug that he swore was thicker than his cock. He came closer to Yunho’s panties, practically nuzzling it at this point, before ripping it apart using his teeth alone.
Yunho gasped, then moaned when Mingi pulled the buttplug out of him. It left him gaping and absolutely wanting for something else to fill him up.
“Mingi—” he murmured, but whatever he wanted to say was immediately cut off by Mingi’s tongue, which was now lapping around his rim.
It felt weird to say that Yunho’s hole tasted like candy, so Mingi just discarded that thought and put it off for when the time is right. He hungrily ate Yunho’s ass like it was his last meal as a death row inmate. He pushed his tongue inside his hole, fucking him with it and earning him whimpers from Yunho.
When Mingi had his fill, he got up and inched closer to Yunho, and suddenly their faces were only a breath apart. Just as Mingi was about to dive in and kiss Yunho, the older man stopped him, chuckling.
“Are you seriously about to kiss me right after eating my ass?” he asked.
“Yeah?” Mingi furrowed his brows. “People do it all the time in porn. Plus, we’re in a fanfic anyway. It’s fine. The readers know not to do this.”
With that reassurance, Yunho just chuckled and leaned in as much as he could, with Mingi meeting him halfway. They kissed and moaned into each other’s mouth like there was no tomorrow. When Yunho’s legs wrapped around Mingi’s body, the younger replied by inserting a finger in his hole. When it seemed to not get any reaction from Yunho, he inserted another one. When that got his attention, he inserted one more.
With three fingers effectively dancing inside of Yunho and one tongue mouthfucking him, Mingi wondered if this was considered a spit roast.
But he brushed those thoughts aside when Yunho pulled back to murmur something.
“Mingi, I adore you, really. You are a great kisser but right now—” Yunho looked up at him through his eyelashes. Mingi could not even process what he was saying because Yunho was just beautiful. And yet the words still came through to him.
“I really, really need your cock inside me. Now.”
It has already been established that Mingi was a very weak man. It would only be proved further based on how fast he nodded while removing his fingers, how quickly he aligned his cock against Yunho’s entrance and how swiftly he managed to insert it. Him being so loose helped tremendously with how smooth the act was.
“Yunho—!” Mingi shouted as the older managed to tighten the grasp of his legs on his waist. “You feel so fucking good—”
“I know baby, I know,” Yunho cooed. “Is that alright? Can I call you baby?”
“Call me anything Yunho,” Mingi gasped, thrusting faster as he was urged to. “Call me baby, call me sir, daddy—fuck! Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” He knew he was just babbling at this point, but a deeper part of him knew whatever he was saying was true.
“Whatever I want?” Yunho asked, reaching up to kiss Mingi again.
“Mhm,” Mingi replied, leaning down to help Yunho. “What do you want, baby?” he asked in between kisses. His thrusts grew relentless as his climax was rapidly approaching.
Yunho, despite himself, managed to let out a chuckle. “Next time—next time I want you to wear these cuffs. Is that—is that okay?”
And fuck, that was more than okay. “Yes,” Mingi nodded repeatedly. “I’ll wear anything you want. I’ll wear your skirts, even your lingerie. Just—fuck, Yunho, I’m—I’m so close—where do you want it baby? Where do you want me cum?”
“In me, please—” Yunho pleaded, thrashing around as his climax also drew nearer. “Cum inside me, Mingi. Fill me up, fuck!”
Mingi felt like he was riding a high that had never been ridden before. He came in waves, pounding into Yunho per burst of cum that got out of him. He moaned as he experienced pure ecstasy, looking up not only to thank the heavens for allowing him to fuck this angelic man beneath him but also to avoid looking at Yunho because he would cum over and over if he didn’t look away.
When he was finally and officially done, he looked down to see Yunho crying.
“Yunho!” Mingi immediately cupped his cheeks. “Are you okay? Was I—was I too rough on you?”
“No,” Yunho shook his head. “You were perfect. It’s just—”
“What is it, baby?”
“My arms are numb,” Yunho laughed, and when Mingi took a second to look at the dangling arms, he burst out giggling as well. He immediately unlocked the cuffs and let Yunho rest in a more comfortable position.
Yunho was still achingly hard and Mingi did not forget. When Yunho reached over to cup Mingi’s cheek, he instead wrapped his hand around his cock—which looked like it shocked Yunho, who immediately melted into pleasure.
“Mingi,” Yunho panted, looking up at Mingi with those submissive, bottom eyes one would only see from a television show about closeted hockey players. “Can I—can I use your mouth please?”
Mingi of course nodded, already slinking down to take Yunho in his mouth. Despite being his first time giving a blowjob, it was probably the best considering Yunho just came the moment Mingi wrapped his tongue around the tip of his cock the same way Yunho did to him.
“Fuck!” Yunho whined, crashing down on the bed. He came as much cum as Mingi did, maybe even more. And Mingi, the champion that he was, drank it all.
When Mingi went back up to kiss Yunho, he laughed again. “First you kiss me after eating my ass, now you’re kissing me after drinking my cum? You are one filthy man, Song Mingi.”
“What can I say?” Mingi replied, shrugging. “You ruined me.”
The two laughed and kissed, giggling into each other as they did so.
Minutes passed. The two were lying side by side on top of the bed. Mingi already cleaned them both and disposed of the sheets, and now they were two best friends sitting barely five inches apart because they were absolutely gay.
“So,” Yunho started, looking up at Mingi. “that thing you said.”
Uh-oh. Mingi gulped. “I said a lot of things. Which one?”
Yunho giggled, rolling his eyes. “When you said you’re going to wear anything… Do you really mean that?”
Oh. Mingi coughed. “Y—Yeah, I would. Do you not—you don’t believe me?”
“Oh no, I do.” Yunho smiled. A genuine smile.
Mingi felt like this was only the start of something he did not apply for.
“So will you wear a skirt to work tomorrow?”