#mx oneshot

You squinted at the narrow, cramped cursive text that covered the pages of your spellbook, wishing for the thousandth time that your late Aunt hadn’t been so hasty when recording her creations. Her handwriting was illegible at best, and most of her homegrown spell instructions were riddled with scribbles and footnotes that contradicted each other.

“It must be nice to be a genius.” You sighed to yourself, closing the textbook and staring wistfully at the ceiling. A small wreath, only about three inches in diameter, of smooth wood and white heather swayed from a long string attached to the low ceiling beams of your small cabin, almost playfully teasing you. It was her last parting gift to you before she left you alone in the world. It had been a year since she passed away but the heather had never yet wilted, something you were certain she’d accomplished with her powerful magic. You’d never gotten to ask the meaning behind the wreath but you could sense that it was important in some way you’d yet to comprehend.

Your parents had died from illness when you were too young to know them, leaving you alone with your mother’s much, much older sister. She’d raised you as her own and although you knew she was no spring chicken you were still extremely unprepared when she told you that the end was coming. She went peacefully in her sleep but it never felt like she’d truly left you, so you managed to avoid feeling too lonely.

“Auntie, couldn’t you have bought a typewriter? I can’t read this, and what I can read doesn’t make sense. Now I have to go out again.” You whined at the charm, receiving only taunting silence in reply.

You groaned again, pulling on your boots and cloak and trudging out of the cabin with a final sigh.

Your feet carried you towards the tree line of the forest you called home. Your cabin sat in a wide field that was dotted with wildflowers and surrounded by trees that seemed tall enough to touch the clouds in the bright blue sky above them. Your Auntie had always told you that a witch belonged in nature, but that it should be revered and respected. Nothing more than was needed should be taken, partly because wastefulness is considered evil, but mostly for fear of angering the protective spirits of the wood. They never showed themselves to others but you could feel their presence all around you, watching your every move from somewhere just out of sight, as soon as you stepped in their territory.

Your caretaker had been much more well-acquainted with the wood than you were. You had spent plenty of time playing there as a child, but she often ventured into them alone when you were young, leaving for hours at a time without explanation. You suspected that she was practicing advanced magic in private that she didn’t want you trying to copy. You never dared to follow her, knowing that she would catch you immediately and not wanting to suffer the consequences of your curiosity, but you’d always hoped that someday she would deem you worthy to accompany her. She’d kept so many secrets from you until her last breath, which you routinely tried not to let eat a hole in your heart. She had her reasons and they were her’s alone.

Your feet slowly made their way along the soft, mossy earth, your arms swinging freely at your sides, a small smile playing on your full lips. You felt so blessed to get to live somewhere so breathtakingly beautiful. The trees were so thick that only small, green-tinged rays of the sun were freckling the forest floor. You were so relaxed in the silent woods that you failed to notice the pair of eyes following you closely as you journeyed on.

You finally reached your destination, a tiny clearing in the woods with herbs and berries of differing varieties as far as the eye could see. You’d been fortunate enough to locate the little sanctuary not long after your Aunt passed and it had since become a beloved destination for you to find peace in solitude, ingredients for meals, and supplies for spells. It was, needless to say, an important place for you both in terms of your survival but also your spirit.

You knelt down, carefully picking stalks of herbs and collecting berries in your basket. You left a small cloth bundle, tied tight with a ribbon, on the ground nearby. This was almost certainly a garden being cultivated with the magic of forest spirits, so it was only polite to leave an offering as payment.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” A disparaging voice suddenly called over your shoulder.

You spun around and stumbled backwards in shock, tripping over an exposed root and crawling backwards on your hands, ignoring the stinging pain in your ankle.

A tall, thin man towered over you, watching you with thinly veiled amusement. He took a step towards you and you gasped, scrambling backwards into a bush as you desperately tried to put more distance between the two of you.

The stranger bent down on one knee and plucked your offering from the ground, untying the ribbon with nimble fingers, and pulled a sour face at the contents.

“It always has cucumber, why can’t they just be normal?” He grumbled, pinching the tiny sandwich between his forefinger and his thumb, a pout blooming spectacularly on his mouth and marring his elegant features.

Now that his attention was directed elsewhere you were able to get a proper look at him. He looked to be about your age, maybe a few years older, had a thin frame with broad shoulders and otherwise even proportions and was deceptively muscular. He had delicate cat-like features with high cheekbones, his face promising mischief. Straight brows hovered over almond-shaped eyes with glittering black irises, and a small, straight nose with thin lips and a sharp jaw. His hair was the color of fresh snow, messy and sticking up oddly in places, and upon closer inspection seemed to have some small leaves and twigs tangled in it.

In fact, the closer you looked at him the more wild he appeared. There were smears of dirt on his arms and face and his shirt was torn in strange places, like he’d fist fought with a thorn bush and lost badly. His pants were worn and had large grass stains at the knees. He looked like he hadn’t seen a proper bed or bath in ages.

Despite his forlorn appearance, he was truly stunning.

He turned to you with a scowl.

“Don’t you know how to make anything else?”

Your initial shock having subsided, you felt yourself practically swelling with indignation.

“I can, thank you very much. And those aren’t for you anyways, they’re an offering for the forest spirits.” You huffed, crawling forward gingerly on scuffed hands and knees to snatch the container from his ungrateful hands.

He looked at you incredulously before tipping his head back and laughing, earning another look of apprehension from you.

“Well the forest rejects your offering. Come back with something tastier.” He said, taking your basket from your unsuspecting grip.

“H-hey!”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief as you watched the man replacing everything you’d carefully collected in its original place.

A lunatic. 

There was no other explanation. He was a lunatic.

“Excuse me, but what gives you the right to decide my offering isn’t good enough?” You spat, trying and failing to get past him to retrieve your belongings.

“No one needs to give me the right to decide what I will and won’t accept.” He replied haughtily, tossing your now-empty basket in your lap.

You glowered at each other for a few terse moments before you burst into hollow laughter.

“What is so funny?” The man’s arms were folded across his chest now, his pout returning in full force.

You stopped laughing when you saw how serious your companion was.

“Are you really trying to tell me that you’re some kind of forest spirit?” You said, your voice deadpan to emphasize your disbelief.

“I prefer nymph since I have a physical form, and my name is Minhyuk.” He said matter-of-factly, watching you with tense, wary eyes.

You blinked once, twice, three times before speaking.

“You’re really...a nymph?” You asked, feeling every bit as stupid as you doubtlessly sounded.

Minhyuk rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m an elk.”

Your cheeks colored with humorless embarrassment. You’d always imagined forest nymphs to be more...fairly-like? Small and playful, happy creatures, perhaps with little translucent wings. Not like this...sassy man that was eating the berries you’d planned on taking with you, his expression surly. 

“So...you really won’t let me take anything unless I bring you something else?” You asked, your disbelief evident in your tone.

“Oh, you’re still here? I hadn’t noticed. A blueberry pie sounds nice. The old lady used to bring them every so often, so I’m sure that you have a recipe somewhere.” He said in between mouthfuls, ignoring your visible annoyance.

“Until then I guess you’ll have to find somewhere else to forage seeing as this is my house you’re in.”

“Wait, what about an old lady?” You asked, brow furrowing with confusion.

“Don’t you have a pie to bake?” Minhyuk stood, clearly signaling that your conversation was over.

“I’m not making you a pie, you brat!”

“Then I guess you won’t be making much else, either.”

The sight of his parting smirk would haunt you for days to come.

***

“Stupid nymph.” You hissed before you stuck your thumb in your mouth to nurse the bead of your cherry-red blood that was forming on the fingertip. You glared at the bush you’d been foraging through, unsure if your irritation was from your finger being pricked or from your lack of success. 

You’d been desperately trying to find high quality ingredients elsewhere for nearly a week but suddenly it was as if they were scarce, or worse, ceased to exist. The tiny garden, however, remained a treasure trove of wildlife, mocking you and your inability to access it without being accosted by an overly large child. You had no trouble finding an abundance of blueberries wherever you looked, though.

You had every reason to suspect that this was Minhyuk’s doing. Of course you couldn’t really confirm it was anything more than bad luck but you could have sworn that you heard him snickering each time you found nothing and grew more frustrated.

“I’m losing my mind.” You sighed, tugging your hair at the root.

“You’ll go bald if that’s how you cope with stress.” A smug voice from over your shoulder commented.

“You-” You spun around, tripping over your feet in your haste. You tottered forward, swinging your arms to try and break your fall. Minhyuk’s surprised face was the last thing you saw before you fell into something solid, something that was very obviously not dirt.

Minhyuk’s firm hands gripped your shoulders and pushed you back into a standing position an arm’s length away, his dirty cheeks flushed a dusty rose.

“Ugh, its you. Why am I always falling when you’re around?” You grumbled, your former ire returning after the shock of his sudden appearance faded.

“I can’t help it if you’re falling for me.” He replied with a self-assured smirk and a shrug. 

“Would literally rather dive naked into a pit of poison ivy.”

“That can be arranged. Why are you wasting time here anyway? Shouldn’t you be baking?”

“I already told you, I’m not making anything for a brat like you.” You snapped, crossing your arms with finality.

“Guess you’ll have to give up whatever experiment you’re working on then. You won’t harvest anything here without my blessing.”

So he was behind this after all. True to his word, you hadn’t been able to forage anything at all since your last meeting.

You fumed, turning over your options in your head. As much as you couldn’t stand Minhyuk it surely would be less effort to bake for him than it would be to try and find a new place to gather, wouldn’t it? Every fiber of your being was revolting against you as you considered this, screaming that it was the principle of the matter and you shouldn’t submit to such an arbitrary demand, but logic slowly won out.

“Fine. But you’re helping me.”

***

“I do hope that you’re better at magic than you are at baking.”

“I would be done already if you just let me use my magic to begin with!” You practically shouted. Your appearance mirrored your companion’s, your faces and clothing speckled with flour. Your hands were stained blue and your failed attempt at crafting a blueberry pie by hand sat ominously on the windowsill where it was cooling.

“It tastes funny if you don’t make it by hand. Nymphs can’t tell lies, you know, so trust me on this. It isn’t the same.” Minhyuk grumbled, his nose wrinkling with the depth of his pout.

“How many people  are honestly bringing you pies for you to claim to know the difference?” You whined, but you were met with silence instead of the snarky reply you’d come to expect. You couldn’t help recalling having a similar argument with your Aunt in your youth. She, too, had always insisted that food tasted better when made with powers of the heart rather than with magic.

You turned your back on the oven and found Minhyuk eyeing your ceiling with a somber expression on his face.

“Um...are you okay?”

His snapped towards at an alarming rate, his features carefully rearranging into their default expression of haughtiness. 

“I’m fine. Just wondering if you’re polite enough to make sure that thing isn’t poisonous before you try to feed it to me.”

You stuck your tongue out in response but your eyes wandered to where his had been fixed moments before, and you felt a curious sensation in the pit of your stomach when they found the white heather wreath swaying peacefully exactly where Minhyuk had been staring so intently.

“You were looking at that.” Your finger pointed at the wreath, your voice questioning even though you’d made a statement.

Minhyuk watched at you, momentarily stricken silent, his eyes searching yours for something unknown.

“So what if I was?” He challenged, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you know something about it? Its a token my Aunt left me.” You asked tentatively, watching Minhyuk’s face closely.

“So what if I do?” He countered with a stony voice, his shoulders squared.

“Can you please tell me more about it?” You could feel your hands starting to shake with emotion.  

“Do you know what white heather symbolizes?” He asked slowly, after some consideration.

You shook your head in reply.

“Protection and the granting of wishes. One of her final living acts was to make that for you. It takes an incredible amount of power to craft an undying flower for someone not innately attuned to nature. She was very talented. She loved you very much.” He explained, his voice soft, his eyes seeking out the wreath again rather than you.

“How do you know that?” You breathed, your voice quietly shaking from the tears you were trying to swallow.

“I helped her make it. Did you never wonder what she spent so much time doing alone in the woods? I met your Aunt when I was still small. I still remember the day that she brought you home. She was so enamored with you. She tried many times to get me to leave the forest and meet you, but I refused.” 

You watched a small, sad smile curl Minhyuk’s lips upwards ever so slightly, bringing a pang to your heart as you quietly waited for him to continue.

“She still made time to visit me even though she was busy with you. It was hard at first and I was jealous, it gets lonely in the forest, but I managed. She would come and talk to me for hours, show me spells of her own design, bring me all kinds of food, ask me how the plants were doing, and I would show her some magic of my own. Nymphs are not very different from witches, you know. We both use magic, just of a different variety. We commune directly with the spirit of nature and create, where as you create based on things that we’ve already made. Yeah, your aunt didn’t much care for that observation either.” Minhyuk laughed loudly at your disgruntled expression, but his eyes were soft and kind as he reminisced on his past, making him even more beautiful to behold. His laughter slowly died out, giving way for the sadness to creep back into his eyes as he looked to the ceiling again.

“When she knew that she was dying...she came to me and asked how to create life. I refused at first, afraid that it was too ambitious for her frail form, afraid it would harm her, afraid of what she wanted to accomplish...but she was relentless. She came every single day and begged. When I finally asked her why, her answer was simple: for you. She wanted to show you that she was always with you. So I showed her, and of course she was eventually successful. She asked me to watch over you but...I still couldn’t bring myself to meet you. So instead I made that garden and I’ve been maintaining it ever since.”

Minhyuk ended his story with a deep sigh, sounding as if a great weight had been lifted from him, and finally returned his gaze to you. Your breath caught when he took a step forward and extended a hand towards you, using the tips of his fingers to brush away the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks unbeknownst to you.

“Why did you wait until now to reveal yourself to me? You’ve really been watching me all this time?” You whispered, your voice cracking.

“I had no choice when you started only leaving offerings with cucumber in them. I can’t eat cucumbers, they’re too disgusting. And because...because she always wanted me to be your friend. You such were an ugly, loud, mud-covered brat when you were young but you’re...different now. So I thought I should grant her wish after all.” A deep crimson blush, made even more vibrant in contrast to his snowy hair, blossomed across his cheeks. It must have been contagious, because you could feel heat rising on your face as well.

“W-what do you mean I was an ugly brat?! I was a normal child.” You blurted out with indignation.

“No, you were gross, just like that poor excuse for a pie.” He answered, his sassy attitude returning despite the lingering pink tinge of his cheeks.

You took the insult in stride, choosing to ignore it rather than start another battle of wits that you were sure to lose.

“You said that you were lonely. Where are the other nymphs?”

“They’re all spirits now. When a nymph comes of age they can choose to keep their corporeal form or they can become spirits. Most choose to become spirits because, I mean, you’re becoming one with nature and what more could you want than that? We aren’t born very often so it makes for a lonely childhood, which is another compelling argument for choosing a spirit form- you’re never technically alone again. I chose to stay in this body.” He finished matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“I loved the old lady. I didn’t want to leave her. She asked me to watch over you for her and I wouldn’t want to leave you either. Even if you were a snot-nosed brat.”

“Well, you know they say that the ugliest ducklings are destined to become the most beautiful swans, so I’ll thank you for thinking so highly of me.” You teased, tapping Minhyuk’s nose with your finger playfully.

To your general astonishment his saturated blush from before returned.

“I never called you beautiful.” He stammered, looking away from you.

“But, do you think I’m beautiful? Nymphs can’t lie, right?” You asked, smirking as you peered at him, trying to get a better look at his face.

“No, nymphs can’t lie. And yes, I do think you’re very, very beautiful.” He whispered, still refusing to meet your eyes.

It was your turn for your face to glow like a sunset. You’d asked, expecting a snarky answer, not fully believing what he’d said previously about nymphs being bound to their honesty. Your lips formed a small, wordless “oh” as you stared at him, awestruck.

“You’re still a terrible baker though, so don’t let it go to your head.”

***

You pulled the oven door open with apprehension, bracing yourself for another failure, and gasped loudly when instead your eyes fell on what appeared to be a flawless blueberry pie.

You bounced on the balls of your heels excitedly before carefully extracting the dessert from the oven and placing it on the windowsill to cool where you could admire it safely from afar.

“Ahh, I can’t wait to show Minhyuk!” You squealed, clapping your hands together.

“Can’t wait to show me what?” 

You whirled around, more shocked than you perhaps should have been to find Minhyuk leaning against your doorframe.

In the weeks that had passed since he shared his stories about your Aunt with you he had been a near constant presence in your home, always making stupid excuses for why he’s there like “I’m just making sure you aren’t hiding any cucumber in my pie”. You had offered to let him stay over since you felt a little bad for him sleeping in the outdoors alone, but he always shyly declined.

“Come, look!” You were already dragging him by the hand to the window to show him your handiwork.

“Wow, that doesn’t look half bad.” He whistled, eyeing it with great interest, eyes sparkling. He took a step towards it, arm outstretched, earning a whack on the shoulder from you.

“It isn’t ready yet! It still has to cool or you’ll burn yourself.” You chastised, moving protectively in front of your masterpiece, hands on your hips.

“Okay, fine, fine.” Minhyuk said, massaging his shoulder with one hand and stifling a yawn with the other.

“Sleepy?” 

He nodded, swallowing another yawn behind his large palm.

“Its getting harder to sleep outside at night these days. Getting cold. I heard that long ago, when humans were less prevalent on Earth, it was more common for nymphs to choose to keep their physical forms. I always wonder what they did to keep warm.”

“Why don’t you take a nap while the pie cools? After you eat maybe we can think of some solutions for that.”

Minhyuk nodded, too exhausted to argue. He refused to be led to the bed though, insisting instead to sit next to you on the couch and sleep sitting up.

His resistance didn’t last. Before long he slumped to his side, his head tumbling into your lap. You caught your gasp in your hand, stifling it and carefully setting down the spellbook you’d been perusing while he napped so your movements wouldn’t disturb him while he slumbered.

You watched him sleep, oddly comfortable despite the slight awkwardness of his face pressed into your bare thighs. Without thinking your hand found his hair, smoothing it gently, relishing in how impossibly silken it was, your fingers gliding through the soft strands like they were water.

Minhyuk’s eyes shot open and you went to pull your hand away, embarrassed, but he caught it in his, holding you firmly in place as he adjusted himself so he was facing you. He stared up at you, blinking the sleep from his eyes, not speaking or removing his head from your legs.

“I-I think the pie should be ready by now,” You supplied after several long moments of silence, hoping to diffuse the tension in the air. “Why don’t we go get some?”

Minhyuk didn’t move immediately and something in his expression was making you feel like you were frozen in place, like he was seeing right through you and counting each of your racing heart beats in slow motion.

He finally lifted himself from your lap and quietly made his way to the kitchen and sat at the dinner table, waiting expectantly. You retrieved the pie, regretting that you hadn’t tried it yourself first as you cut a generous piece for him and slid it on a plate. You were silently praying to anyone that would listen that it would taste as good as it looked.

To your surprise Minhyuk didn’t hesitate to pile his fork with the pastry and bring it to his waiting mouth. You had expected him to make some catty remark about you trying the first bite, or taking a tiny bite “just in case”.

‘He must really be exhausted if he’s being so docile.’ You thought to yourself as you watched him chew with bated breath.

When he swallowed you swallowed with him out of nerves. The seconds of silence seemed like they stretched into hours as you waited for his reaction, but it never came. Instead he simply loaded up his fork again and took another bite, closing his eyes while he chewed. He continued like this until his plate was as clean as when you’d taken it out of the cabinet.

“Well? How was it?” You finally inquired, unable to contain yourself any longer, your nervousness making your voice come out in a higher pitch than normal.

Minhyuk stood, the sound of the chair scraping the floor making you jump, and moved towards you as if in a daze.

When his lips met yours, they tasted strongly of blueberry and sugar. You were too surprised to move at first but the ice around you slowly melted as he held you and your arms slowly circled his waist as your lips molded to his, your eyes fluttering closed.

His hands crept down your waist, gripping your hips firmly as he deepened the kiss. You felt your legs starting to wobble while he explored your mouth, the sweet taste of sugar and fruit on his tongue overwhelming your senses. His hold on you was all that was keeping you upright and you were starting to wonder if this was going to be the way you died, in the arms of a beautiful man without a breath of air left in your lungs, when he pulled away at last, chest heaving while you both struggled to catch your breath.

Minhyuk leaned forward, kissing your forehead softly in stark contrast to the heated one he’d pressed to your lips moments ago.

“It was wonderful.” He whispered, his lips moving against your forehead as they formed his words. He took a step back, his eyes overflowing with affection, and moved past you and out of the room. You followed him as he stumbled into your room, his exhaustion evidently taking over as he collapsed into your bed face first.

The deep breaths he was taking were confirmation enough that he had fallen asleep. You smiled tenderly as you looked down at his sleeping form fondly. Warmth bubbled up from the very tips of your toes, spreading throughout your body in a wave, making you feel impossibly at peace. You sighed through your nose, contented. Seeing him sleeping in your bed just felt so...right.

You padded back to the kitchen as slowly and silently as you could muster so as not to disturb your slumbering guest. You moved to cover the remaining pie and put it in the refrigerator for later, but stilled as something odd caught your attention from the corner of your eye.

Your cauldron, which you’d abandoned with your last failed experiment still stuck like cement to the bottom of it, was bubbling merrily. You rushed over, panic-stricken, and gasped when your nose was assaulted with the scent of fresh florals. The failed potion from before had sprung to life, it’s contents now a color that reminded you of Minhyuk’s hair, a comparison that made your cheeks flush involuntarily.

Then, as if you were struck by lighting, you were rooted to where you stood with the gears in your mind turning faster than you could comprehend. You glanced back at the sleeping nymph, realization finally dawning on you. A soft gasp slipped through your lips and the rosy color on your face deepened to a blazing scarlet.

You tentatively dipped a ladle into the concoction, sniffing its contents gingerly before taking a hesitant sip. Your eyes squeezed shut, a smile winding its way through your lips. You’d finally done it. You laughed to yourself at the irony of the situation, your eyes settling on the heather wreath swaying delicately in the breeze from the open window.

Hyungwon sat on one end of the couch with his legs curled underneath him, wearing some black shorts and a shirt he stole from Hyunwoo’s or Hoseok’s clean laundry since he hadn’t bothered to do his own.

Hyungwon and Hyunwoo were left alone at the dorm – of course, their schedules always meeting in the middle. A reason why they went out together all the time. It’s not their fault that they were always left together. And it’s not like they’re complaining either. It’s nice.

Hyungwon was flicking through the channels, trying to find something that they both hadn’t watched yet, but when Hyunwoo walked in the room after grabbing something to snack on, Hyungwon’s eyes followed his legs. He bit the inside of his bottom lip as he watched Hyunwoo’s grey sweatpants hug the muscle of his thighs as they flexed with each step.

He remembered the small act on Weekly Idol that they had pre-recorded earlier that day and it made him shiver slightly. Seeing how Hyunwoo’s thick thighs were perfect in those sweatpants, and how amazing it felt between his when he held onto Hyunwoo’s muscular arms. Amazing, really.

Hyunwoo reached his side, and held out a cold beer for Hyungwon as their eyes met and smiled, Hyungwon warm at the act of kindness, along with the arousal he felt because of Hyunwoo’s thighs. The older man took a sip of his own beer and brushed his hair out of his face. Hyungwon followed suit, taking a gulp from the can as he turned his gaze back to the TV, staying on the first channel he found that seemed decent.

They were both platonic, but that didn’t mean Hyungwon didn’t have a hard time keeping his eyes off of Hyunwoo whenever he wasn’t looking. He’d never admit it, but Hyungwon was pretty sure he’d caught Hyunwoo looking at him once or twice. He enjoyed the attention he got from the leader, no doubt, and spending all their time together definitely amped the spark up a little.

Hyungwon tried his hardest to keep his eyes on the screen, but they kept drifting back to Hyunwoo’s damned thighs, parted just enough for his beer to rest between them. Hyungwon chewed on his lower lip and tried to stifle the sigh that was forcing its way out of his chest. It had been a while since he’d been with someone and his mind was trying to go somewhere he’d avoided the past three years.

“What’s wrong, Won? Are you even watching TV?” Hyunwoo asked. His eyes hadn’t left the TV and he took another sip as he waited for Hyungwon to answer.

“Nothing. It’s not that funny,” Hyungwon stated, snapping his head towards the TV, hoping he hadn’t noticed his stares.

“Well, it is a melodrama.” Hyunwoo chuckled lowly. Busted.

“It’s not my fault you have nice thighs,” Hyungwon mumbled.

“What?” Hyunwoo was now looking at Hyungwon, his brow knit in confusion but a cocky smile spread across his face.

“You have nice thighs. Making me feel distracted," Hyungwon said, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his beer.

“That might be the strangest thing you’ve said to me so far,” Hyunwoo laughed, stretching his arm and resting in on the back of the couch behind his head.

Hyungwon fell into a tense silence as the show played on, and the both of them finished their beers in record time. Hyungwon had hoped Hyunwoo had forgotten about the whole ordeal, but his next question confirmed he definitely wouldn’t let him off that easy.

“What is it about them? Is it, like a kink or something?” he asked, spreading his legs a bit further and causing his knee to brush against Hyungwon’s before it rested there.

Hyungwon hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a less forward answer, but he had nothing.

“Have you ever humped someone’s thighs?” Hyungwon blatantly asked. If he was going to do it, then he was going to go all out. Shock flashed across Hyunwoo’s face and a blush quickly followed.

“I- nope, maybe never, but that still doesn’t answer my question.” He replied.

“It’s the friction that’s amazing. You can ride someone’s thigh, and if you can get the right friction, then it feels so fucking good.” Hyungwon stated, his eyes focused on the TV so they wouldn’t wander.

“And you like that?” Hyunwoo asked, his voice quiet and curious.

“Well, yeah. It’s been a while. I haven’t had someone as thick as you though, I felt them between my thighs this morning and I’m not complaining.” Hyungwon laughed.

Hyunwoo didn’t say anything after that, but Hyungwon felt his eyes on him just like Hyunwoo felt Hyungwon’s stares earlier, cutting through the tension and begging him to look at him.

“What?” Hyungwon asked, meeting Hyunwoo’s gaze which was much softer and innocent than Hyungwon had expected.

“Do you want to…” he asked, softly patting his left thigh as an invitation.

“Are you serious?” Hyungwon snorted, trying his damnedest to not entertain the idea even though it was tugging at his core.

“I mean, if you want to. I’ve never had someone do that… I can’t lie and say I’m not interested in seeing how it goes, and if it would help you out…” he shrugged casually, as if he was offering to help wash dishes instead of letting Hyungwon ride his thigh with explicit reasons.

Hyunwoo’s eyes held Hyungwon’s as he considered the offer. After a minute of awkward silence, he finally made Hyungwon’s decision for him.

“Come here,” Hyunwoo whispered as he tugged on Hyungwon’s knee.

Hyungwon pulled his legs from beneath him and stood, nervously making his way to stand in front of Hyunwoo. He settled back into the couch and spread his legs enough for Hyungwon to slide one of his thighs in between them. The younger boy placed his hands on his broad shoulders to stabilize himself as he lowered himself onto the older man’s left thigh.

He flexed his leg beneath Hyungwon, making him bite his lip and tighten his grip onto Hyunwoo’s broad, broad, broaaaad shoulders, and a sly smirk teased Hyunwoo’s lips. Hyungwon punched his shoulder playfully and tossed him a glare and Hyunwoo threw his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay, Won. Use me however you want.” Hyunwoo coaxed.

Hyungwon moved his hips and his breath caught sharply in his throat as he accidentally rutted his semi-hard cock and brushed his clenched hole against the muscle of Hyunwoo’s thigh, the friction causing a jolt of pleasure to shoot through his core. He repeated the actions, a whispered moan escaping his plump lips as his eyes fluttered shut. Hyungwon found a slow but steady pace, his hands moving to Hyunwoo’s firm, firm chest as he gripped his hyung’s t-shirt.

Hyungwon arched forward, pushing his chest against Hyunwoo’s as he rode his thigh, already feeling his cock hardening and rutting against his clothed cock. His breaths were uneven and Hyungwon moaned softly with every thrust he made.

“Can you touch me, please?” Hyungwon whimpered, craving large hands on his body to push him further.

“Where?” Hyunwoo asked silently, as if worried his voice might interrupt Hyungwon.

“I don’t care hyung, anywhere, just, please,” Hyungwon begged, biting his bottom lip at the last word. Hyunwoo wasn’t familiar with this side of Hyungwon, he’s only heard this side of him during early mornings and whenever he had to act cute for his fans.

“Okay, babe, I’ve got you,” Hyunwoo cooed, furrowing his brows at Hyungwon's desperation.

His left hand slipped beneath Hyungwon’s shirt and rested on his hip to guide his movements, his thumb trailing small and gentle circles on Hyungwon’s hipbone. Hyunwoo cupped the side of Hyungwon’s neck with his right hand, running his thumb along his sharp jawline.

Hyungwon opened his eyes to find Hyunwoo staring right back at him, his bottom lip caught between his large front teeth as he watched Hyungwon’s every move. The fire in his eyes fueled Hyungwon and pushed him further as he picked up his pace a notch, rutting himself harder against Hyunwoo’s thigh. He flexed again and this time Hyungwon didn’t stop himself from letting out a whimpered moan pour past his plump lips.

“Aren’t you beautiful? Riding me like this,” Hyunwoo whispered silently before pulling Hyungwon closer and brushing his lips against Hyungwon’s.

The coil in the younger boy’s stomach tightened as Hyunwoo’s hand slipped off his hip and grabbed his ass instead, pushing him down against his leg as he flexed once again. Hyungwon lurched forward, deepening the kiss while finding the perfect angle to grind himself against Hyunwoo’s thigh. He bounced his leg once, causing Hyungwon to gasp and nearly lose his balance.

Hyunwoo’s chest vibrated with a low chuckle, almost a growl as Hyungwon placed one hand on the other thigh to brace himself and wrapped his arms around Hyunwoo’s broad shoulders. Hyungwon was riding him at an almost violent pace while Hyunwoo left kisses along his neck and whispered encouragements.

Hyungwon moaned his name over and over again, a string of curses as he finally came hard, staining his shorts, silently thanking the heavens he wasn’t wearing any boxers. His body quivered in Hyunwoo’s arms, collapsing against his hyung’s chest.

Hyunwoo rubbed Hyungwon’s back beneath the large shirt, slowly coaxing him back down from his high. Hyungwon had been so lost in the pleasure that he forgot he was using his best friend to find release, but as he relaxed and steadied his breathing, the tense pleasure was immediately replaced with a nervous guilt as he pushed himself back up, away from Hyunwoo.

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” He whispered, moving his leg to stand, but Hyunwoo stopped him, his arms around his slim waist as he pulled Hyungwon back into his arms, their faces only an inch apart.

“Babe,” he whispered, “Hyungwon,” he whispered again, before kissing Hyungwon gently. “Don’t you dare say sorry. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Best thing I’ve ever done. Just, promise me this won’t be the last time.”

His hands were on Hyungwon’s ribcage as he lifted the skinnier boy up and set him on his lap so Hyungwon was straddling his waist. Hyungwon bit his lip as he felt how hard Hyunwoo was beneath him, and realized that Hyunwoo had enjoyed the show as much as he enjoyed the performance. Hyunwoo felt Hyungwon grinding against him slowly and smoothly, and his pupils blew out and a growl built in his chest once he felt Hyungwon’s cock hardening again.

“It’s yours if you want it, babe,” he whispered, pushing his hips up to meet Hyungwon’s.

“What do you want?” Hyungwon asked, the words coming out barely louder than a breath.