kim mingyu (seventeen)

"Please, hyung, please. I’ll be good,” he pants against the other’s lips, hanging over him like the greatest temptation there is. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Oh, please, hyung. I’ll be a good little alpha for you. Is that it?” One roll of his hips. “Fuck me until I can feel you even after we’re done?” Another roll as he plants his feet on the mattress, moving his hands to hold both his wrists in one, the other under his chin. “Fill me with your pups?” Mingyu's preferred person to spend his rut with may not be the most evident choice.

It’s hard to even remember to breathe, it’s warm like lying under the sun in August; and Jeonghan thinks, for someone born in spring, Mingyu kisses like summer’s in his blood. It’s the warmest thing he’s ever known, and he thinks, if someone like that ever loved him, it’d set him on fire. (Or, the one where Jeonghan and Mingyu start hooking up in secret, and Jeonghan has to face the mortifying ordeal of being known.)

All Wonwoo asked was marriage but Mingyu couldn't give that knowing he was tied to someone else and what they've had was purely a mistake, including the growing little human being inside him.

It was a painful realisation coming back from the company after an odd schedule to an empty house. Everything in their house reminds him of Mingyu. He can’t even sit in their living room because the damn blue sofa was Mingyu’s birthday gift. (Or: how Wonwoo severely underestimates Mingyu’s presence in his life and what ensues once said man comes back home.)