#switch mingi

The Other Half Of Us

Part Four

Wooyoung woke to the soft hum of sunlight spilling across the sheets, Mingi curled against his side, still flushed and dreamy-eyed from the night before. Yunho was stretched lazily behind him, one arm draped over Wooyoung’s waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns along his side.

The warmth of their bodies still clinging together made Wooyoung’s stomach twist in both longing and nerves. Last night had been intense, overwhelming, and… incredible. But now, in the quiet of morning, there was a lingering tension—a promise that they weren’t done exploring yet.

Mingi stirred first, nuzzling into Wooyoung’s chest, voice soft and needy. “Woo… again…”

Wooyoung laughed lightly, brushing damp hair from Mingi’s forehead. “Not yet, baby. We just—just got through last night.”

Yunho chuckled, voice low and teasing from behind. “But he’s already thinking about it. You saw how needy Mingi is—he’s going to want more before long.”

Mingi whined, stretching out over Wooyoung and arching against him. “I… I want both of you,” he admitted softly, voice trembling with a mixture of shyness and desire. “One day… one day I want both of you inside me…”

Wooyoung froze, cheeks heating at the thought. His mind raced—he’d topped Mingi before, but double penetration… that was a new, intense level.

Yunho smiled knowingly, brushing a finger along Wooyoung’s jaw. “One step at a time, Woo. But hearing him like this… I think he’s ready to tease you a little more. Maybe you can edge him first, let him beg, see how far he can take it…”

Wooyoung’s pulse jumped, heat coiling low in his stomach at the idea. Mingi’s soft, needy eyes on him were impossible to resist, and the memory of his first topping orgasm—the clench, the overstimulation, the helpless, pliant way Mingi had melted—flushed through him like fire.

He glanced at Yunho, seeking approval, and Yunho nodded, smirk teasing. “Go ahead. Guide him. Just… remember, I’m here if you need me. And so is he.”

Mingi whimpered softly, shifting closer. “Please… Woo… I’m ready for you… again…”

Wooyoung swallowed hard, feeling the thrilling mix of nerves, excitement, and anticipation. “Okay…” he whispered, heart hammering. “Let’s see how far you can take it… just guide menif I need it..”

Yunho chuckled, smirking. “I’ll start you off, then let you take the lead. Just… keep him comfortable.”

With gentle hands, Yunho guided Wooyoung’s motions at first, showing him how to tease and edge Mingi. Mingi whimpered, voice soft and needy. “Woo… please…”

Wooyoung flushed but followed the guidance, grinding and stroking with careful attention. The sound of Mingi’s whines and gasps spurred him on, and gradually, Yunho’s hands moved away, letting him find his own rhythm.

“You’ve got this, Woo,” Yunho whispered, moving a hand to his own cock now, stroking slowly, eyes on the two of them. “Feel him… he’s all yours now.”

Wooyoung’s pulse hammered in his ears, but he pressed on, letting Mingi ride him, hands gripping his hips as he found the right pace. Mingi moaned, squirming desperately, voice high and needy. “Faster… oh God… please, Woo…”

Wooyoung’s movements grew bolder, guided by instinct more than Yunho’s whispers now. He felt him close to cumming already. Each gasp and tremble from Mingi fueled his confidence—but the overstimulation hit him hard, hips trembling, chest heaving, cock pulsing with heat. He groaned as he spurted in Mingi.

“I… I can’t… keep going…” Wooyoung gasped, stopping for a moment, chest rising and falling. Mingi whimpered, confused and desperate. “W-Woo… don’t stop… please… more.”

Yunho smirked knowingly. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, leaning in to replace Wooyoung’s spot beneath Mingi. Wooyoung moved aside, still catching his breath as Yunho slid inside the needy, pliant body that had just ridden him, hands still guiding lightly on Mingi’s hips.

Mingi moaned loudly, arching into Yunho, voice thick with overstimulation. “Yunho… yes… oh God…”

Wooyoung’s chest heaved, fingers brushing Mingi’s back and shoulders as he watched, heat pooling low despite the pause. “Wow… seeing him like that…” he muttered, shivering at how helpless and pliant Mingi was for both of them.

Yunho’s rhythm was slower at first, savoring Mingi’s reactions, letting him ride each wave of pleasure while keeping a steady hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder. “See? You can take a break and still watch him melt… it’s just as intense.”

Mingi whined, lips parted, grasping both of them as Yunho increased the pace slightly. Wooyoung groaned softly, overwhelmed but entranced by the intimacy, heat, and desperate need between them.

Mingi’s hips bucked wildly against Yunho, each movement sending tremors through both of them. His moans were high and needy, voice cracking with overstimulation. Wooyoung’s hands hovered over his chest and stomach, fingers brushing lightly, teasing, feeling the heat of Mingi’s sweat-dampened skin, unable to resist the intimate chaos before him.

“Yunho… please… oh God…” Mingi cried, head thrown back, eyes rolled up in pleasure. His fingers clawed weakly at the sheets, arching fully into every motion.

Yunho’s thrusts were slow, deliberate, and teasing—riding Mingi’s responses with precision. “That’s it… just like that…” he murmured, lips brushing Mingi’s neck. “Feel it, Mingi… lose yourself for me.”

Wooyoung gasped as Mingi tensed beneath him, walls clenching, whimpers echoing in the sunlit room. The desperation, the overstimulation, the slick heat—everything collided, sending shivers down his spine. He lightly trailed his fingers down Mingi’s abdomen, brushing against the sensitive flesh there, eliciting a high, broken gasp.

“W-Woo… yes… oh fuck…” Mingi whimpered, tugging weakly at Wooyoung’s shoulders as Yunho kept him on edge. “Don’t… stop… please…”

Yunho’s hand slid over Mingi’s hip, then down to his own cock, stroking slowly as he synchronized with Mingi’s frantic movements. “You’re mine too, Woo… watch him…”

Mingi’s cry tore through the room as his body finally gave in, trembling violently, walls clenching around Yunho in a shattering orgasm. Wooyoung shivered, overwhelmed by the sight, the sounds, and the heat radiating from Mingi.

Yunho groaned low, hips pulsing, letting himself ride the wave a moment longer before spilling inside Mingi, both of them collapsing onto the bed in a mess of sweat, heat, and soft, trembling moans.

Wooyoung pressed a hand over Mingi’s back, brushing through damp hair, heart hammering. He felt dizzy from the intensity, cheeks flushed, cock still hard from the shared pleasure. “Wow… that… that was…”

Yunho chuckled softly, brushing a damp strand from Wooyoung’s forehead. “Incredible, right?” he murmured. “You did well, Woo. Let me handle the next part.”

Before either of them could respond, Yunho slipped from the bed with a sly grin, nudging Wooyoung lightly. “Rest up, boys. I’ll make breakfast.”

Mingi whimpered softly, curling closer into Wooyoung, warm and pliant. “Y-You’re leaving?” he murmured weakly.

“Just for a little while,” Yunho replied, voice teasing. “Enjoy the afterglow. I’ll be back with food… and maybe a little more for later.”

Wooyoung leaned down, pressing soft kisses along Mingi’s temple and jawline, wrapping him tightly in his arms. “Just breathe, baby. We’ll stay right here. You’re safe.”

Mingi nuzzled into him, finally exhaling, body relaxing completely against Wooyoung. The heat still lingered, but the shared warmth and trust between them made it soft and comforting. Wooyoung traced lazy circles on Mingi’s back as they lay tangled in each other’s arms, both recovering from the intensity of the morning.

Through the quiet, he could hear Yunho moving around in the kitchen, the faint sounds of breakfast being prepared filling the room—a gentle reminder that even after all the chaos, there was care, routine, and love holding them together.

Mingi’s head rested on Wooyoung’s chest, listening to his heart racing. Wooyoung’s hand mindlessly playing with Mingi’s hair.

"I have a question." Wooyoung said softly.

"Hmm?"

"How long do your sub spaces last?"

"Hm, it depends, I guess. It's kinda hard to to tell when its going to come and when it goes. But if you're even not comfortable topping me, just tell me." Mingi said as he looked up at Wooyoung. "How... how do you feel?"

"I fell.. different. It was intense. For sure. I don’t know which I prefer.. maybe still bottom because I'm more used to it. But topping you was really good too."

"Well, you don't have to worry too much about Yunho. He doesn't really have a sub space like I do. He usually just goes with what I'm in the mood for. He likes it either way. It's the person that matters, I guess." Mingi said as he traced a finger along Wooyoung’s chest.

"Really? Okay. That's good to know."

"Yep, only one needy princess in this relationship." Mingi joked.

"Well, you're our needy princess." Wooyoung said as he placed a soft and slow kiss on Mingi’s lips. "Kiss me." Wooyoung said softly.

Mingi’s lips brushed against Wooyoung’s again, softer this time, slower, teasing. He pressed closer, hands sliding down Wooyoung’s sides, fingers tracing along the ridges of his chest, drawing soft shivers from him.

“Like this?” Mingi murmured, lips ghosting over Wooyoung’s jawline before dipping back to his mouth.

Wooyoung groaned softly, tilting his head to give him better access. “Mhm… yeah… just like that,” he whispered, letting his hands rest lightly on Mingi’s hips, not guiding, just feeling.

Mingi hummed softly into the kiss, pressing small, deliberate nips along Wooyoung’s lips and jaw. He leaned into him, rolling his hips slightly against Wooyoung’s stomach in the gentlest tease, enjoying the way Wooyoung’s body responded without resistance.

Wooyoung’s chest rose and fell with every slow inhale and exhale, fingers curling slightly in Mingi’s hair as he let himself melt under the younger male’s gentle dominance. “You’re… so good at this,” he murmured, voice husky.

Mingi smiled against his lips, tugging lightly at Wooyoung’s shirt, pressing their bodies even closer. “Told you… just need a little practice. You’re easy to tease, Woo,” he whispered, before capturing his lips in another long, lazy kiss.

They stayed like that for several minutes, kissing and touching with no rush, no pressure—just the quiet intimacy of two people fully present with each other. Wooyoung let himself relax completely, letting Mingi set the pace, feel the control shift so softly but deliciously in Mingi’s hands.

Mingi’s hands wandered just slightly lower, cupping Wooyoung’s hips, tracing small circles over his stomach, eliciting soft moans from him. “You’re mine, you know?” he whispered, voice breathy and playful.

Wooyoung’s smile was warm, soft, and full of affection. “Yeah… I know… and I love it,” he replied, tilting his head back for another lingering kiss as Mingi leaned down to settle more fully against him, letting the leisurely, tender make-out stretch out until the world outside the sheets seemed to vanish.

Yunho came in with an apron on and a bright smile. He held a tray with their food on it. He settled it carefully before his boyfriends.

"What a good wife, I got." Wooyoung joked but Yunho just asked at the nickname.

"I aim to please."

Wooyoung handed Mingi a piece of toast, and Mingi happily took a bite, groaning softly in pleasure. “Mmm… so good,” he said, cheeks still pink from the morning.

“Don’t forget the coffee,” Wooyoung murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from Mingi’s forehead.

Yunho slid onto the bed from behind, careful not to spill anything on the sheets, a playful grin on his face. “You didn’t think I’d let you two have all the fun, did you?” he teased, resting his chin lightly on Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Wooyoung flushed,thrilled, feeling Yunho’s warm breath against his neck. “Y-Yunho!” he whispered, a mix of laughter and surprise in his voice.

Mingi giggled, eyes lighting up. “Finally, join us!” he said, leaning back into Wooyoung, arms wrapping around both of them.

Yunho grinned and wrapped one arm around Wooyoung’s waist, the other brushing along Mingi’s side. “Now it’s perfect,” he murmured. “Breakfast tastes better when we’re all together.”

The three of them settled into a warm, tangled cuddle, passing toast and coffee back and forth, teasing each other with soft kisses between bites. Wooyoung pressed gentle kisses to Mingi’s temple, then to Yunho’s jawline, basking in the closeness of both of them.

Mingi leaned up, lips brushing Wooyoung’s in a slow, lazy kiss. “You’re warm… soft… perfect,” he murmured, snuggling deeper into the cuddle pile.

Yunho chuckled, nuzzling into Wooyoung’s neck. “Careful, Mingi… don’t steal him all to yourself,” he teased, lips ghosting along Wooyoung’s shoulder as he spoke.

Wooyoung groaned softly, laughing and shaking his head. “I don’t know if I can handle both of you at once,” he said, voice breathy but happy.

“You already do,” Mingi whispered, tugging him closer, while Yunho pressed a teasing kiss to his temple, both of them holding him warmly between them.

The three of them stayed like that for a while, feeding each other bites, sipping coffee, and laughing softly—warm, cozy, and completely content in each other’s presence. Breakfast had never felt so intimate.

The park was quiet, the sunlight filtering through the tall trees in dappled patches. Wooyoung carefully spread the blanket beneath the oak, balancing the picnic basket between them. Mingi sat upright for a moment, adjusting his posture, hands neatly folded in his lap, as if he were always a little too composed in public. But the second Wooyoung offered him a sandwich, his restraint melted slightly, and he leaned forward, catching a bite with a small, shy smile.

“You always make things look too neat,” Wooyoung teased, brushing a loose strand of hair from Mingi’s forehead.

“I like things neat,” Mingi replied, voice soft but still tinged with his usual quiet confidence. “But… I also like this.” He leaned closer, brushing shoulders with Wooyoung, letting the closeness linger.

Yunho smirked, lounging on his side beside them, hands propped behind his head. “Careful, Wooyoung. He’s usually all controlled, but I think he’s letting you in a little too much right now,” he said, voice low and teasing.

Mingi gave him a playful glare, lips twitching into a small smile. “Shut up, Yunho. You’re the one who told me to be nice to him.”

Wooyoung chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Mingi’s temple. “I like it when you’re like this… relaxed. It’s… different, but really nice.”

After finishing some of the food, the three of them wandered along a flower-lined path. Mingi stayed close to Wooyoung, keeping his usual composed exterior, but there were moments when he’d sneak small touches—fingers brushing along Wooyoung’s arm, leaning in slightly when he thought Yunho wasn’t watching. Yunho caught every subtle gesture, smirking knowingly.

“See that?” Yunho whispered softly to Wooyoung. “That’s him… half-control, half-melted. He’s showing you the parts he usually keeps hidden.”

Wooyoung’s chest warmed at the thought. “I see it… and I love it,” he murmured, letting his hand hover near Mingi’s, eventually brushing fingertips in a lazy, teasing connection.

As the sun began to dip, they returned to the blanket. Wooyoung pulled out the polaroid camera again, snapping pictures of Mingi making exaggerated serious faces while Yunho leaned over him, grinning. Mingi rolled his eyes but laughed softly, a rare sound reserved for moments of complete ease.

Eventually, they lay back on the blanket, looking up at the sky as stars began to appear. Mingi’s head rested lightly on Wooyoung’s chest, hands tucked close, breathing soft but steady. Wooyoung’s fingers tangled in his hair, brushing gently along his scalp.

“You feel warm,” Mingi murmured quietly, voice softened by the peaceful evening.

“Of course,” Wooyoung replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You’re safe with me. With both of us.”

Yunho draped an arm over Wooyoung’s waist, leaning in closer, letting his fingers brush both Mingi and Wooyoung in gentle, reassuring strokes. “I think you two are perfect together,” he said softly, voice low, almost reverent. “Even when Mingi tries to stay in control, I can see how much he’s letting you in, Woo.”

Mingi’s cheeks pinked slightly at Yunho’s words, biting the inside of his lip, but he didn’t shift away. Instead, he nuzzled closer to Wooyoung, half his usual composure gone, content to just exist between the two of them. “I… like this. Being with you like this,” he admitted quietly.

Wooyoung smiled, brushing a hand down Mingi’s back and over his shoulder. “Me too… it’s nice to just… be. No pressure, no expectations. Just us.”

Yunho pressed a soft kiss to Wooyoung’s temple. “And that’s why breakfast tastes even better,” he murmured. “Because it’s not just food—it’s the three of us, together.”

Mingi snorted softly, a rare laugh slipping out as he snuggled fully against Wooyoung, fingers curling around his side. “I guess… you’re right,” he said, voice light and teasing, though his body remained pliant and warm against Wooyoung’s.

Wooyoung pressed another soft kiss to Mingi’s temple, then glanced at Yunho, who was still watching them with that calm, teasing smile. “I love mornings like this,” he murmured, voice soft, heart full.

The three of them stayed wrapped in each other, sharing bites of toast, soft touches, and quiet laughter, the world beyond the park fading away. Mingi’s usually controlled demeanor melted into moments of vulnerability, Wooyoung basked in it, and Yunho’s calm presence held everything together, making the day feel intimate, warm, and infinitely gentle.

"I need to know something." Wooyoung said, leaning against Mingi while Yunho’s head was in his lap.

"What's that?" Yunho asked as he rotated a bit to look up at him. Wooyoung felt his cheek flush.

"Are you guys.. usually this active?" Wooyoung wasn't sure he could keep up with their stamina. Even when switching between being the top and the bottom. He certainly had enough love for two, but stamina? Maybe not so much.

"Oh, um.. yeah. Actually." Yunho admitted sheepishly.

"Oh." Wooyoung didn't know what else to say.

"We usually have sex every morning. Maybe then some. Like when you accidentally came in on us.." Mingi explained, his hand drapped over Wooyoung’s shoulder. Wooyoung was twisting the ring on his fingers.

"Is there something wrong with it..?" Yunho asked softly as he reached up and stroked Wooyoung’s chin softly.

"No, it's just.. I have a really hard time keeping up."

"Oh, Woo." Yunho laughed. "It isn't usually that intense, baby. Or that long. It just was because you were there. It was our first taste. You also don't have to be involved fully everytime."

"There's three of us for a reason. Sometimes one of us won't be in the mood and the others will be. Duo sex is fine. Just two of us. Just as long as we remember it's all three of us." Mingi shrugged as he rubbed Wooyoung’s fingers softly with his.

Wooyoung exhaled, a little tension leaving his shoulders as he leaned further into Mingi. “Okay… I just… I don’t want to slow you guys down,” he admitted quietly, voice tinged with both worry and affection.

“You could never slow us down,” Mingi said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Wooyoung’s temple. “We want you here. With us. Even if you just… cuddle or watch. That’s enough sometimes.”

Yunho nodded, brushing his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair. “Exactly. And you’re not expected to do everything at once. You’re learning, figuring it out. We love when you try, but even if you need breaks, it’s fine. We’ll adapt. Always.”

Wooyoung’s hand curled into Mingi’s, heart swelling. “I just… I feel like I want to do more for you guys, not just… watch or be… half in it.”

Mingi tilted his head, brushing their noses together lightly. “That’s why we’re patient with you, silly. You have plenty of time. You already give us so much, just by being here and caring.”

Yunho leaned in, lips ghosting over Wooyoung’s ear. “And trust me… when you’re ready to take the lead, we’ll guide you. But we’ll never push you beyond what you can handle.”

Wooyoung pressed a soft kiss to Mingi’s cheek, then glanced at Yunho with a small smile. “I guess… I just needed to hear that.”

“You did, baby,” Yunho murmured, fingers brushing along his jawline. “We’ve got all the time in the world. And sometimes… just lying here like this is the best part.”

Mingi hummed, curling closer against Wooyoung, resting his head on his chest. “Yeah… it’s nice… quiet… just us.”

Wooyoung shifted slightly, Mingi curling closer into his chest, warm and pliant. Yunho rested his head lightly on Wooyoung’s shoulder, one arm draped over him, fingers idly tracing along his side. The three of them breathed quietly together, the soft rhythm of hearts and the occasional sigh filling the room.

“You’re awfully quiet, Woo,” Mingi murmured after a while, voice teasing but soft. “Thinking about… last night?”

Wooyoung’s cheek warmed, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “It was… a lot. But… good.”

Yunho hummed in agreement, brushing his thumb along Wooyoung’s arm. “You handled it better than I expected,” he teased gently. “I was half-expecting you to get flustered and freeze up.”

“I—” Wooyoung laughed softly, “I did get flustered. A lot. But you both… make it feel… safe, I guess.”

Mingi tilted his head, brushing his lips against Wooyoung’s collarbone. “Safe, huh? That’s good… but sometimes safe can be fun, too.” His fingers twined with Wooyoung’s, gentle but firm, pulling him just slightly closer.

Wooyoung shivered at the touch, the warmth and closeness making his stomach tighten in that familiar, pleasurable way. “Mmm… you’re already soft like this, but you’re usually so… composed. I like seeing this side of you,” he murmured.

Mingi chuckled, nuzzling against Wooyoung’s neck. “I like it when you notice. Makes me feel… wanted, I guess. You and Yunho together…” He paused, catching Wooyoung’s gaze. “It’s nice… being wanted by both of you.”

Yunho’s lips curved into a soft smile. “And we always will. Don’t think for a second that you have to keep up perfectly with us, Woo. Just being here is more than enough.”

Wooyoung pressed a kiss to Mingi’s hair, then glanced at Yunho. “I… I think I understand that now. And I want… to try more. Not rush, just… explore slowly.”

Mingi hummed, soft and approving, tracing lazy circles along Wooyoung’s chest. “I like that. We can take it slow. But sometimes… I might want to be a little more demanding. You okay with that?”

Wooyoung laughed, fingers brushing over Mingi’s wrist. “I think I can handle it… with your guidance, of course.”

Yunho smirked softly, squeezing Wooyoung’s side. “See? You’re already learning. And we’ll make it fun—safe, exciting, and slow at your pace.”

Mingi snuggled even closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Wooyoung’s lips. “Good… because I like having you like this. Close. Soft. Mine… for now.”

Wooyoung let out a small laugh, brushing his lips against Mingi’s forehead. “And I like being yours. Both of yours,” he said, glancing at Yunho. “I’m… really happy. With you two.”

The three of them stayed like that for a long while, tangled together, laughing softly, pressing gentle kisses, and enjoying the calm intimacy of the morning. Wooyoung felt his nerves from earlier melt completely, replaced by warmth, love, and the contentment of being completely accepted by both Mingi and Yunho.

Even as the day outside moved on, the world in their little cocoon of sheets, limbs, and quiet touches felt perfect—soft, safe, and theirs entirely. The birds were chirping and the sun glowed warm on the pairing.

Wooyoung pressed a slow kiss to Mingi’s temple, and Yunho’s hand brushed along his side, fingers tracing lazy patterns. Everything was calm… cozy… perfect.

Until a tiny buzzing sound reached Mingi’s ears.

“Uh… uh… what’s that?” Mingi muttered, eyebrows knitting together. Before Wooyoung or Yunho could even process it, a bee had hovered right near Mingi’s face.

“AHHHH!” Mingi screamed, jolting upright in one smooth motion that was anything but smooth. In a panic, he shoved Wooyoung and Yunho off him, both of them yelping as they tumbled to the side of the blanket, on the grass.

“What—Mingi?!” Wooyoung sputtered, still clutching the blanket as he scrambled to his feet. Yunho’s hair was sticking up from the fall, but he couldn’t help laughing, holding his stomach.

“You… you just… threw us off you over a bee?!” Mingi was flailing, hopping around the blanket like a human pinball.

“IT’S A BEE! IT’S A BEE!” His hands waved wildly in the air, trying to shoo it away while simultaneously shielding his face. Wooyoung pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling laughter.

“You’re usually so calm… suave… and now you’re literally panicking over a bee! Mingi! It's just a bee!” Mingi spun toward him, face pink from fear—and maybe a little embarrassment.

“I—It’s huge! It’s flying! And I’m… delicate!” Yunho finally managed to sit up, still chuckling.

“Delicate, huh? That’s one way to put it. You’re usually the composed one, and now you’re… this.” He gestured dramatically at Mingi’s flailing arms and bouncing legs. Wooyoung crept closer cautiously, still giggling.

“Don’t worry… I’ve got you,” he said, inching forward like it was some kind of epic rescue mission. Mingi froze for a split second, then squealed, lunging backward, only to trip over the edge of the blanket.

“I’M FINE! I’M FINE! GO AWAY, BEE!”

Finally, Yunho managed to shoo the bee away with a pillow, and Mingi sank onto the blanket, panting, still pink-cheeked. Wooyoung wrapped an arm around him, holding him close. “See? Nothing to worry about. You’re safe.”

Mingi hid his face in Wooyoung’s chest, muttering, “I… I hate bees… and you two… stop laughing at me…”

Yunho smirked, leaning over to kiss Wooyoung’s temple. “Don’t worry… we’ll tease him forever about this. It’s too good to pass up.”

Wooyoung laughed, holding Mingi a little tighter. “Yeah… but he’s still ours, panicked bee attacks and all.”

Mingi groaned softly into Wooyoung’s chest, muttering, “I’m never letting a bee near me again…”

And with that, the trio settled back into the blanket pile, laughter still lingering, hearts warm, and the moment somehow even more intimate—despite the chaos of a single, pesky little bee.

"I think... I'm thinking I'm ready for you guys to meet my friends." Wooyoung announced.

"Wait really?" Yunho asked. His head popping up from Wooyoung’s lap. "Are you sure?" He asked taking Wooyoung’s hand in his. He nodded.

"Why not? We're official. Things are going great. We're soulmates. What's stopping us?"

"Nothing." Mingi replied.

The Other Part Of Us

Part Two

The bar had long since emptied, the neon sign outside humming faintly as the city around them quieted. Hongjoong was behind the counter, polishing glasses more for distraction than necessity.

“You work too much,” Seonghwa said, his voice cutting through the silence as he leaned casually against the bar. He’d already changed out of his host clothes, hoodie and sweats making him look more boyish than the sleek charmer customers adored. Seonghwa hadn't been able to get Hongjoong out his mind since the night the hooked up. He knew that there was more between them. Hell, most of the host club knew there was something between them even though they weren't anything confirmed.

Hongjoong didn’t look up. “And you don’t work enough. We've lost a lot of customers since Yeosang left.” That earned him a low laugh. Seonghwa stepped around the counter, closing the distance until he was close enough for Hongjoong to feel the heat radiating off him.

“You still pretending that night was a mistake?” Seonghwa asked quietly, tilting his head to study him. Hongjoong froze, the glass in his hand suddenly feeling too fragile.

“It was… unprofessional,” he muttered.

“Unprofessional?” Seonghwa repeated, amused. He reached out, plucking the glass from Hongjoong’s hand and setting it aside. Then his fingers brushed Hongjoong’s wrist, deliberate and slow. “Funny how you only say that when it’s just us. Never when you’re looking at me like you want to do it again. You think I don't fell you looking at me when I'm with customers? You reek jealousy, Boss.”

Hongjoong’s breath hitched. He hated how easily Seonghwa got under his skin—how every word felt like pulling at a thread he’d tried so carefully to knot. How he could read him like he was an open book ready to be displayed at the older male's fingertips.

“You don’t understand,” Hongjoong said, his voice low, almost desperate. “I’m your boss. I can’t—”

“Then don’t be my boss right now,” Seonghwa interrupted, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. His tone softened, eyes locked on Hongjoong’s. “Just be mine.”

The words hung heavy between them, daring Hongjoong to either pull away or close the distance. He chose to pull away, the tension thick, suffocating. Hongjoong’s lips parted, but nothing came out. Seonghwa was too close—always too close—and it made his pulse stutter in ways he hated admitting.

“You think too much,” Seonghwa murmured, watching him with a lazy intensity. “Always worrying about rules. About ‘what ifs.’ About soulmates.”

Hongjoong stiffened at the word. “Because they matter,” he said quickly, almost defensively. “It isn’t something you can just ignore.” Seonghwa smirked faintly.

“Sure it is. People put too much weight on destiny. Like you can’t choose your own life. I don't care about soulmate bond.” His hand brushed against Hongjoong’s arm, feather-light but enough to make him flinch. “I chose you that night. Not some bond. Not fate. Just you. And I will do it again and again.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Hongjoong shot back, sharper than he meant to. His jaw tightened, eyes darting away. “It was one night, Seonghwa. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” Seonghwa challenged, stepping into his space until their chests nearly touched. His voice dropped, low and even. “Want you? Touch you? Think about you every time I close my eyes? I didn't just choose you that night, Hongjoong. I'll choose you always.” Seonghwa said, using Hongjoong’s name for the first time in a long time.

Hongjoong’s breath faltered. He hated how the words hit him like a confession he’d secretly wanted to hear. The way Seonghwa hadn't just said boss, but said his direct name made his heart flip flop.

“You’ll regret it,” Hongjoong whispered, his voice thin. “When you meet your soulmate and realize I was just… a detour. It could be a problem later down in our relationship.”

Seonghwa’s expression softened, the playful curve of his lips melting into something more earnest.

“You still don’t get it, do you? I don’t care if they’re out there. I don’t care if they’re waiting. I don't want them. I care about you, right now. Isn’t that enough?” Hongjoong looked at him then, really looked, and it felt like standing on the edge of something dangerous. His heart screamed yes, but his head whispered no.

For a long moment, the air between them thickened with all the words neither dared to say. Hongjoong’s throat felt tight. The way Seonghwa was looking at him—like he was the only thing in the room worth seeing—was unbearable.

“You make it sound so easy,” Hongjoong whispered, voice cracking under the weight of his own fear. “But what if it isn’t? What if I let you in and then one day your soulmate shows up? You’ll leave, and I’ll just be—” He broke off, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek.

“Stop,” Seonghwa cut in firmly, but his touch was gentle as he cupped Hongjoong’s jaw. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care about soulmates, Joong. I care about you. Right here. Right now.” Hongjoong shook his head, trembling under the steady grip.

“You say that now, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop being scared. I can't get it out of my mind that you'll leave me. And seeing you walk away from me after being together.. it breaks me. And you aren't even mine yet.”

“Then be scared with me. Don't be scared and not with me. Why be scared and not with me when you can be scared and have me? Be scared of losing something YOU have.” Seonghwa leaned in, his breath hot against Hongjoong’s lips. “But don’t shut me out.” And before Hongjoong could form another excuse, Seonghwa’s mouth was on his.

It wasn’t tender—it was fire and desperation, a clash of fear and want that stole the air from Hongjoong’s lungs. He grabbed at Seonghwa’s shirt, half trying to push him away, half pulling him closer.

Their kiss deepened, teeth clashing, Seonghwa’s hand sliding into his hair as if anchoring him in place. Hongjoong melted against him with a muffled groan, all his carefully built walls crumbling with every press of Seonghwa’s lips. When they finally broke apart, panting, Hongjoong’s eyes shone with panic and longing all at once.

“Seonghwa… I—” His voice shook. “I’m scared. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t want to get hurt.” Seonghwa rested his forehead against his, breathing hard.

“Then let’s figure it out together. No guarantees, no fate. Just us. One step at a time.” Hongjoong closed his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly, before nodding ever so slightly.

“Okay. I’ll… try. Let's take it slow.. But please—don’t break me.”

Seonghwa’s lips curved into a small, almost fragile smile as he brushed another kiss against Hongjoong’s temple. “Never.” with those words Hongjoong lifted Seonghwa onto the bar and kissed him hungrily. His hands slipping under Seonghwa’s sweater with familiar ease. The feeling of Seonghwa’s hot and smooth skin.

"Hongjoong." Seonghwa gasped as Hongjoong dived under his sweater and began to kiss his skin. Seonghwa’s back arched as he buried his fingers into Hongjoong’s back.

"You can't go back, you're mine." Hongjoong breathed against his skin. As if trying to convince himself as he held Seonghwa in his hands.

"Take me, then." Seonghwa whispered and Hongjoong’s face was before his and kissed him once more. Their lips molded to another as Hongjoong traced Seonghwa’s lips with his tongue. Seonghwa quickly opened his mouth, fully accepting anything Hongjoong was willing to give. Hongjoong slid his hands under Seonghwa’s hoodie again and pulled it off with ease.

Seonghwa’s hands slid to the back of Hongjoong’s neck before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him into another bruising kiss. His legs automatically wrapping around Hongjoong’s waist and rocking against him. Hongjoong growled.

"Don't tease me." He slipped his hands to Seonghwa's waistband and slid them down and off of Seonghwa before coming back between his legs. Seonghwa’s legs quickly wrapped around his waist again. The bar was cold against his bare skin but Hongjoong’s hands were hot as he mapped out every part of Seonghwa’s body, as if committing it to memory.

Hongjoong’s lips landed hot and heavy on Seonghwa’s chest. He eagerly tasted his salty skin as Seonghwa’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Want growing hotter and hotter in his body, his hard dick pressing against Hongjoong’s body. Hongjoong took a nipple into his mouth bringing out a loud and shameful moan from Seonghwa’s mouth. His nails dug into the cloth of Hongjoong’s shirt.

His rippled hardened in Hongjoong’s mouth, only making him suck even harder. His hands groping Seonghwa’s body as he sucked hard, marking it with a purple hue. Seonghwa let out a gasp as he finally came off with a wet pop. He yanked Hongjoong back up and kissed him again, slamming their lips together. It wasn't hungry, it was desperate. As if he was begging Hongjoong to believe his feelings, to FEEL them.

His arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and tangled in his hair. He bit Hongjoong’s bottom lip slightly and pulled it away a bit as he looked in Hongjoong’s eyes. His eyes were hazy and head over heels for him. Seonghwa moved to kiss along his jawline until his lips settled below the shell of his ear. There he left a couple of hot, opened mouth kisses before sucking.

Hongjoong let out a whimper as Seonghwa sucked a mark onto him. Seonghwa moved from there to his neck and left another bright mark, licking it with hit tongue to soothe the throbbing.

"Seonghwa..." Hongjoong swallowed before pushing him back onto the bar. He began to unbuckle his belt clumsy, wanting to be in Seonghwa too desperately, having been holding himself back from what he wanted.

When Hongjoong finally pushed into him, the bar groaned under their weight, and Seonghwa clutched at him, nails dragging down his back. It wasn’t gentle, wasn’t careful—it was messy, urgent, teeth and tongues and gasps echoing in the dim light.

“You’re mine,” Hongjoong gasped against his ear, the words breaking like a vow as he thrusted into Seonghwa urgently. His hips snapping fast a deep. Seonghwa cried out into the bar as he hit him in places that made him stars. Seonghwa held his face, forcing him to look into his eyes even as their bodies moved in sync.

“Yours because I want to be. Remember that.” His voice trembled, but the conviction was clear. Hongjoong looked into his eyes and snapped his hips with newer vigor. He gripped Seonghwa’s hips, digging his nails into his thin waist, keeping eye contact with Seonghwa as his face contorted in pleasure.

Hongjoong sucked on Seonghwa’s body as he claimed him. His body trembled with effort as he tried to hold himself back from cumming.

"I'm close, so close." Seonghwa moaned out.

"Fuck, I'm close too. Come on, baby." Hongjoong panted as he snapped his hips a few more times with extra effort before coming undone. Seonghwa followed not long after, moaning out loudly as his fingers dug more marks into Hongjoong’s back.

The heat broke into trembling limbs and ragged breaths, Hongjoong collapsed against him, forehead to forehead, dizzy with the taste of salt and skin. Seonghwa brushed his hair back, lips curving into a half-smile.

“So much for slow, huh?” Hongjoong laughed weakly, the sound tinged with relief and fear alike.

“We’ll… figure it out.” Seonghwa kissed him softly, slow this time, sealing it like a pact. "Don't doubt my loyalty to you, Boss." Seonghwa whispered before kissing Hongjoong on the forehead sweetly. Hongjoong cleaned Seonghwa up and drove him home, making sure he made it safely in before driving off, a lovestruck grin on his face.

Seonghwa texted Hongjoong the next day and asked him to take him out shopping. Seonghwa not having a car, this was a common thing between the two. One of the reasons they had become close. Except this time he had it in the mindset of a date.

'Sure. What time?' Hongjoong messaged back.

'Noon'

'Sounds good.'

'Sound like a date.'

Hongjoong was a bit flustered by Seonghwa's message. A date? Was this a date? But they always did that even before going out. But if Seonghwa says its a date, then it's a date. What's the saying? Happy wife, happy life? Hongjoong quickly shook his head. What is he thinking?

They arrive at the mall in casual nice clothes. Walking side by side, their arms occasionally brushing. Hongjoong too scared to intitate intimacy and Seonghwa being too nervous about how Hongjoong would react. After all, they never had simple intimacy such as holding hands or arms around the shoulders. They were never a couple before. Just friends with a mutual attraction.

Seonghwa finally sucked in a breath and linked his arm with Hongjoong’s. Hongjoong tensed for a second before making himself relax. He reminded himself they were a couple now. That it was real. That this intimacy was okay. The contact felt both fragile and grounding, like if Seonghwa thought too much about it, he’d spook Hongjoong into pulling away.

But Hongjoong didn’t. Instead, after a few beats of silence, he let his hand shift just slightly, his fingers brushing over Seonghwa’s wrist where their arms connected. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Seonghwa’s chest tighten.

“Nice shirt,” Hongjoong muttered suddenly, his voice rougher than intended. Seonghwa blinked, caught off guard, his boba eyes wide.

“What?” Hongjoong tilted his head toward him, lips twitching into the smallest smile.

“Yours. Looks good on you.” Seonghwa bit back a laugh at the awkward attempt, warmth creeping into his cheeks.

“Thanks. You too.”

They walked a little slower after that, their linked arms more deliberate now. The nervousness didn’t vanish completely, but it softened—replaced with the quiet, startling realization that this was their new normal. Seonghwa finally let his head tilt just enough to rest lightly against Hongjoong’s shoulder as they walked past a café. Hongjoong stiffened for only a heartbeat before he exhaled and leaned closer, the corner of his mouth lifting.

For the first time, it didn’t feel like something they had to hide or explain. It just felt right. Like it was meant to be.

"Seonghwa? Hongjoong?" A voice called out and they quickly recognized it as Yeosang’s. Hongjoong almost immediately pulled his arm away from Seonghwa’s, without thinking. He shoved his hands in his pockets as Yeosang and San approached.

"Hey." Seonghwa greets with a slightly stiff smile, the hurt aching in his chest. The sudden cold and emptiness of his arm. He understood why, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

"What are you guys up to?" San asked with a friendly smile.

"Just walking around, spending some money." Seonghwa replied.

"Yeah." Hongjoong agreed.

"Oh, well do you want to go the food court and eat together then?" San suggested and Yeosang agreed enthusiastically.

"We have to catch up! I haven't got the chance to see you guys since I quit." Yeosang said with a smile, a bit guilty but overall happy.

"Oh no, I don't–" Hongjoong went to say but Seonghwa interrupted him.

"Yes, of course! We really do need to catch up." Seonghwa refused to let Hongjoong act the way he was right now. He felt like a dirty secret. Hongjoong didn't argue however, allowing Seonghwa to get his way. The group walked together towards the food court of the mall.

"So, Yeosang. What have you been up to since you left?" Hongjoong asked, trying to ignore the tension, and not the good kind, between him and Seonghwa. Yeosang smiled shyly, his fingers and arm entwined with San's.

"Well, honestly, I had a little trouble figuring out what I wanted to do. I explored a couple ideas. Tried a few out like classes to see if it interested me. I... settled on becoming a professional dancer. I'm taking classes right now to get qualified."

"Wait, dancing? You picked it up again?!" Seonghwa asked, a wide smile on his face. "I remember you were passionate about dancing. But you kinda lost your spark for it after starting at the host club."

"Yeah, I just didn't have the time. Trying to make ends meet and maintaining friendships and relationships." Yeosang sighed softly, an affectionate smile as he looked at San.

"I'm happy for you." Hongjoong commented.

They ordered their food and settled at a table together. San’s hand held Yeosang’s on the table. The couple was unashamed of their relationship. It was so easy for them, Seonghwa thought bitterly, watching Yeosang laugh at something San whispered. Seonghwa wish Hongjoong would let him be like that.

"Well, you guys seem to be even closer. I'm glad you have each other at least." Yeosang said with a smile. Seonghwa leaned closer to Hongjoong, craving closeness. But Hongjoong rejected him subtly.

"Yeah, we've been pretty close since you left." Seonghwa replied. He shifted closer to Hongjoong, letting his arm brush against his on the bench. Hongjoong tensed immediately and inched just far enough away for the touch to break.

Undeterred, Seonghwa tried again a few minutes later, leaning in as he pointed out something on the menu. His shoulder pressed warmly into Hongjoong’s, but Hongjoong cleared his throat and leaned back, nodding stiffly without meeting his eyes.

Seonghwa’s chest ached, but he forced a polite smile whenever Yeosang looked their way. Still, the craving for closeness gnawed at him. When the drinks arrived, he pushed Hongjoong’s glass toward him, letting his fingers graze Hongjoong’s hand. Hongjoong pulled away under the guise of adjusting his sleeve. Rejection. Again.

By the time their food came, Seonghwa’s patience had worn thin. He watched San casually feed Yeosang a bite across the table, Yeosang blushing but not pulling away. The contrast to his own situation stung. Enough.

Without warning, Seonghwa slid his hand beneath the table, settling it firmly on Hongjoong’s thigh. Hongjoong jolted, his eyes snapping to Seonghwa’s in wide-eyed panic. But Seonghwa didn’t waver. He kept his face perfectly neutral, eyes calm, as though nothing was unusual at all. His thumb stroked a slow, steady line against the fabric of Hongjoong’s pants. A quiet claim. A reassurance.

Hongjoong’s breath caught, every instinct screaming at him to push Seonghwa away before anyone noticed. But under the table, Seonghwa’s hand was steady, grounding. Not demanding, not reckless—just there. And for once, Hongjoong didn’t move. But guilt clawed up his chest.

Because San and Yeosang were right there, bold and unashamed, and Seonghwa deserved that kind of certainty too. Not this half-hearted dance, not touches hidden beneath the table. He knew Seonghwa wanted it too. He had attempted it so many times and it wasn't fair for Seonghwa to have to settle because of Hongjoong.

"Yeosang is really in his element when he dances. I've never seen him so passionate. But it reminds me when we first met and he danced with Wooyoung. He definitely has a talent."

He forced himself to smile at what San said, nodding like he’d heard, while under the table he let his hand hover uselessly above Seonghwa’s—aching to cover it, to show him he wasn’t alone. 'Come on, just do it. Please. Show him you care too.' But at the last second, he pulled it back to his lap. Seonghwa felt it. His heart kept racing as Hongjoong got closer to his hand but withdrew because he kept getting startled, spooked.

Seonghwa was trying—God, he was always trying—and Hongjoong kept shutting him out. Not because he didn’t want him, but because the thought of wanting him openly made his stomach twist with fear. Fear of being seen. Fear of ruining everything. He wanted to lean in, to give Seonghwa something, but the fear kept wrapping around his wrist like chains.

Hongjoong tried again—his pinky sliding just barely toward Seonghwa’s under the table. For half a second, it grazed, a spark of contact that sent Seonghwa’s heart surging with relief. Then Yeosang spoke, casual and unknowing, and Hongjoong recoiled again, pulling his hand to his lap so fast it felt like rejection.

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. He forced himself to smile at something Yeosang said, but inside, doubt was creeping in. Was Hongjoong ashamed of him? Was he regretting this already?

But then he caught the guilt flickering in Hongjoong’s eyes—a silent plea, raw and vulnerable. And Seonghwa exhaled. No, it wasn’t rejection. It was fear. Fear that still had its claws in him.

So Seonghwa did what he always did—he stayed patient. His hand stayed steady on Hongjoong’s thigh, not pushing, not demanding, just waiting. Letting him know he wasn’t going anywhere.

Eventually they said goodbye to each other and left after finishing eating. They headed to the host club since they were going to open soon. Once they were in Seonghwa pulled Hongjoong to him. He kissed him and Hongjoong didn't hesitate to settle his hands on Seonghwa’s body. Seonghwa felt a stab to his heart and he pulled away from the kiss as if he was burned and turned away from Hongjoong, clearly upset.

"What's wrong?" Hongjoong asked, even though he knew what Seonghwa was going to say.

"I get you're scared. I've been so understanding of that, but.. why are you ashamed of me too?" Seonghwa asked. "You dont hesitate to touch me behind closed doors. You can't even touch me in front of OUR friends! Do you have any idea how that feels, Hongjoong?! To feel like a dirty secret when I'm right next to you?!"

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched. He stepped forward suddenly, grabbing Seonghwa’s wrist before he could pull away.

“Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you dare say you’re some placeholder.” His voice cracked, low and raw. He yanked Seonghwa closer until their foreheads nearly touched. “You think I touch you like this because you’re temporary? Because I don’t want you enough? I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. You’re not a secret because I’m ashamed—you’re a secret because I’m terrified.”

For a moment, Seonghwa froze, staring into his eyes. And then he let out a bitter laugh, sharp as glass. “Terrified of what, Hongjoong? Loving me?” His chest ached, his voice softening against his own will. “Then maybe… maybe you don’t want me enough. Maybe you don’t want me the way I want you.” The words landed like a knife between them. Hongjoong faltered, grip loosening, and in that split second Seonghwa tore himself free. His heart was pounding, but his face was already settling into its practiced mask.

Before Hongjoong could stop him, Seonghwa was walking onto the club floor. Reluctantly Hongjoong set everything up and opened the club.

The music and lights swallowed Seonghwa up, and within seconds he was sliding into a booth, draping an arm around a regular’s shoulders, laughing with that smooth, charming grin Hongjoong knew too well.

From the shadows, Hongjoong’s stomach twisted. Every laugh, every graze of Seonghwa’s fingers on someone else’s thigh was deliberate, punishment disguised as performance. And Seonghwa knew exactly what he was doing.

He tilted his head back, laughter ringing, and for just a second, his eyes flicked across the room—locking with Hongjoong’s. A challenge. A dare. This could be yours if you weren’t such a coward.

Hongjoong’s chest burned hotter with every second he watched Seonghwa play his role. That laughter that he used, that he knew wasn't real, but it still pisse him off. Seonghwa’s hand tracing casual circles on another man’s thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t just jealousy clawing at him—it was humiliation. Every look, every flirt, felt like a knife, and the worst part was… Seonghwa wanted him to watch.

The customer leaned in closer, whispering something against Seonghwa’s jaw, and Hongjoong snapped. He shoved back his chair so fast it screeched against the floor, storming toward the booth with fire in his veins.

“Seonghwa.” His voice was sharp, dangerous, loud enough that a few heads turned. Seonghwa’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes flickered up—dark, gleaming with satisfaction.

“Boss,” Seonghwa purred smoothly, as if Hongjoong was just another part of the act. He squeezed the customer’s shoulder, keeping him close. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah, something’s wrong,” Hongjoong hissed, his fists clenching at his sides. His composure was seconds from cracking, from tearing Seonghwa away and showing everyone exactly who he belonged to. Seonghwa leaned lazily back against the booth, lips curving.

“Then maybe you should take it up in your office, don’t you think? Unless you’d rather all your staff and customers see how much the owner can’t keep his hands off me.” The air between them was suffocating, tension stretched so tight it might snap. The customer shifted uncomfortably, glancing between them, but Seonghwa didn’t break eye contact with Hongjoong once. "Oh don't worry about him, love. My boss is just a little tense today."

Hongjoong swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe. If he stayed one more second, he’d ruin them both. With a low growl, he spun on his heel and stalked back toward his office, slamming the door behind him.

Seonghwa’s smirk faltered the moment Hongjoong was gone. His chest hurt, his hands were trembling under the table, but he leaned closer to the customer anyway, keeping the mask firmly in place. If Hongjoong wanted to be afraid, then fine—he’d make him terrified of losing him.

Seonghwa barely made it two steps past the staff hallway when a hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and yanking him into the darkened office. The door slammed shut, the lock clicking before he even processed what happened.

“Hongjoong—” Seonghwa started, but his back hit the wall, and Hongjoong was inches from him, eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that out there?” Hongjoong demanded, his voice low but seething. His hands pressed flat to the wall on either side of Seonghwa’s head, caging him in. Seonghwa tilted his chin, lips curving into that infuriating half-smile.

“My job. Or did you forget what kind of place this is?”

“Don’t,” Hongjoong snapped, leaning closer until Seonghwa could feel the heat of his breath. “Don’t play coy with me, Hwa. You were pushing me. You wanted me to lose it. You were AGITATING me on purpose.” Seonghwa’s smirk faltered, just for a heartbeat, but he forced it back.

“And you did. Proves my point, doesn’t it?”

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched. “My point is that I almost dragged you out of there in front of everyone and kissed you until they all knew you’re mine.” His voice dropped, almost breaking. “Is that what you want? For me to ruin us because I can’t control myself when it comes to you?”

Seonghwa’s breath caught, his chest tight. For a moment, he couldn’t find a quip to throw back. His pulse pounded in his throat—because beneath the anger, he heard it. The raw desperation.

“Maybe I just want you to stop hiding, maybe that's exactly what I want.” Seonghwa whispered finally, his bravado slipping.

Hongjoong’s hands curled into fists against the wall, shaking with restraint. He pressed his forehead to Seonghwa’s, eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m not ashamed of you. I’m terrified of losing you. Please, Seonghwa. Baby. I’m not ashamed of you,” Hongjoong repeated, his voice breaking against Seonghwa’s skin. His hands trembled as he pressed them to Seonghwa’s sides, gripping like he was holding him together—or maybe holding himself together. “You think I don’t want to show you off? That I don’t want to scream it to everyone that you’re mine?”

Seonghwa’s lips parted, his chest tightening. “Then why do you pull away every time? Why do you keep getting scared about the soulmate thing?”

“Because I’m scared! I just am!” Hongjoong’s voice cracked. His eyes shone, glassy and wet as he finally met Seonghwa’s gaze. “Scared you’ll wake up one day and realize you want what I can’t give you. Scared your soulmate will show up and I’ll just—” His breath hitched, ragged. “I’ll just be the man who tried to hold you when you were never really his.”

Seonghwa’s throat closed. He wanted to argue, to throw back that he didn’t care about soulmates, that he never had. But the way Hongjoong’s voice splintered—so raw, so unguarded—knocked the air out of him.

“Hongjoong…”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong whispered, the words spilling out like a dam had broken. His lips grazed Seonghwa’s cheek, shaky, desperate. “I’m so damn sorry.” He kissed the corner of Seonghwa’s mouth, then pulled back an inch, breathless. “I can’t lose you, Hwa. I can’t. I can't survive it.”

Something inside Seonghwa snapped. He grabbed the front of Hongjoong’s shirt, yanking him down into a kiss that was messy and wet and almost painful. Hongjoong whimpered into it, tears slipping free as he kissed him back like he was drowning and Seonghwa was the only air in the world.

“I’m here,” Seonghwa gasped between kisses, even as his own tears burned hot down his face. “I’m right here. Stop pushing me away. I'm here. I want you. I'm YOURS.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong choked again, over and over, kissing Seonghwa’s lips, his jaw, the tears on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do better. I’ll love you right. I swear, I swear—” Seonghwa silenced him with another hungry kiss, his hands threading desperately into Hongjoong’s hair.

“Then stop hiding me,” he pleaded against his lips. “If you mean it, don’t hide me anymore. Let people see us, please.” Hongjoong kissed him harder, their tears mingling, his grip bruising on Seonghwa’s hips like he was anchoring himself to him.

Hongjoong kissed Seonghwa like a man starved, like he’d been holding back for years and finally snapped. Their mouths crashed together, messy and wet, gasps filling the office as Seonghwa dragged him closer by the shirt. Hongjoong’s hands slid down, gripping Seonghwa’s hips with a bruising desperation, pressing him into the wall like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong whispered against his lips, kissing him again before Seonghwa could respond. “I’m so sorry—” Another kiss, hotter, wetter, teeth clashing. “I’ll stop hiding. I’ll show them all, just—don’t let me lose you.” His voice cracked on the last words.

Seonghwa’s fingers twisted into his hair, tugging his head back just enough to look at him. Both of them were breathing hard, lips red, faces damp with tears. “You’re an idiot,” Seonghwa rasped, his voice shaking. “But you’re my idiot. Do you get that? I chose you.”

That broke something in Hongjoong. With a groan, he surged forward, kissing him again, deeper, more frantic. His hands slipped under Seonghwa’s top, dragging up the fabric until cool air hit bare skin. Seonghwa gasped, arching into the touch as Hongjoong’s trembling palms skimmed up his ribs, his chest.

“Beautiful,” Hongjoong muttered brokenly against his mouth, tugging the top over his head and tossing it aside. “So damn beautiful, and you’re mine—mine.” He kissed down his neck, tasting sweat and salt, biting just enough to mark him.

Seonghwa’s hands weren’t still either—he shoved at Hongjoong’s jacket, tugging at his sweater before yanking it off of him and drag his nails down Hongjoong’s chest. Hongjoong hissed, shuddering, then caught Seonghwa’s face again in both hands, kissing him with bruising force.

Clothes fell away in fragments—Hongjoong’s shirt discarded, Seonghwa bare-chested, both of them flushed and trembling. The office wall was cold against Seonghwa’s back, but Hongjoong’s body pressed hot and heavy against him, grounding him, consuming him.

Between kisses, between gasps, the words kept slipping out.

“I’m sorry.”

“I love you.”

“I won’t hide anymore.”

Seonghwa swallowed every one of them with his mouth, his hands roaming over Hongjoong’s body like he was memorizing him all over again. Their desperation wasn’t just lust—it was fear, love, need, all bleeding together until they didn’t know where one ended and the other began.

Hongjoong’s hands roamed over Seonghwa’s bare chest, gripping and trembling as if he could ground himself through touch alone. Their lips met again and again, messy, desperate, tasting each other, crying and laughing and gasping all at once. Seonghwa’s fingers tangled in Hongjoong’s hair, tugging him closer, feeling the raw tremble in his shoulders.

“I can’t—” Hongjoong gasped against Seonghwa’s mouth, breaking away just enough to press his forehead to his. “I can’t hold back anymore. You’re mine, do you understand? Mine.”

Seonghwa shivered, pressed tighter against him, heart hammering. “No, you're mine, Hongjoong. You are mine. My choice. MY soulmate. I—I’m here. I’m right here.”

Hongjoong’s lips moved from Seonghwa’s mouth to his jaw, nipping and sucking softly, then down the side of his neck, each touch a wordless apology and promise. “I love you. I’m sorry I made you doubt me,” he whispered into the hot skin, tears mixing with sweat.

Seonghwa moaned, clutching at him, and Hongjoong’s hands slid lower, grazing the waistband of Seonghwa’s pants, thumb brushing teasingly against bare skin. Every touch was a confession, every gasp a plea.

They shifted together against the wall, clothing falling away completely this time, and Hongjoong’s kisses became slower, more deliberate, reverent even. His hands traced every inch of Seonghwa’s body, memorizing the curves, the heat, the tremors.

Seonghwa’s breath hitched as Hongjoong pressed closer, and for the first time, it wasn’t desperate franticness—it was love, deep and grounding. Every kiss, every whispered “I’m sorry, I love you,” every trembling hand wrapped around him said the words his mouth couldn’t always form.

They stayed pressed together, moving in sync, building from desperate, urgent need into something softer, more consuming, until the world outside the office—the club, the lights, even the walls—didn’t exist. There was only them, only this confession made flesh, only the truth of their love pressing skin to skin. Hongjoong pushed gently into Seonghwa, holding him tenderly, foreheads pressed together.

"I love you. Please Hongjoong, I love you." Seonghwa pleaded as Hongjoong captured his lips in a soft and passionate kiss. His arms flexing as he held Seonghwa against the wall by his thighs and thrusted into him.

"I love you. You're mine. I'm so sorry." Hongjoong panted softly as he thrusted upwards again. Seonghwa’s thighs trembled, his muscles tensing under Hongjoong’s hand. Seonghwa tugged softly on Hongjoong’s hair.

"Don't let me go. Don’t leave me." Seonghwa said, finally sharing his own fear of losing Hongjoong. "Don't leave me. I know, I know I'm a lot. But please." Seonghwa hiccups. Hongjoong feels fresh tears burned in his eyes. He kissed Seonghwa again.

"No, never. I promise. I swear, Seonghwa. I love you."

Hongjoong and Seonghwa slid down the wall together, bodies still pressed tight, chest to chest. Their breathing was ragged, mingling in the quiet office now that the urgent need had softened into heat and trembling. Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around Hongjoong’s neck, holding him close as if letting go meant falling apart.

Hongjoong’s hands rested gently on Seonghwa’s back and sides, fingertips tracing soothing circles, still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. “You’re safe,” he whispered, voice hoarse, pressing his forehead to Seonghwa’s. “I’m not going anywhere. I swear.”

Seonghwa buried his face in Hongjoong’s shoulder, tears sliding down onto bare skin, shaking slightly from exhaustion and relief. “I was so scared… of losing you,” he murmured, voice muffled. “I didn’t know if you’d… if you’d stay.”

“I’ll always stay,” Hongjoong promised, kissing the crown of his head, then his temple, lingering over every part of him like he could imprint the confession on his skin. “I love you, Seonghwa. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this… all of you. Every piece.”

They stayed like that for a long time—still, pressed together, bodies melting into one another. The office was quiet except for their breathing, and the world outside—the club, the lights, the people—didn’t exist. They were suspended in this moment: two broken, desperate souls finally claiming each other.

Seonghwa slowly lifted his face to meet Hongjoong’s eyes. “You really mean it?” he asked, voice shaking but softer now, tentative.

“Every word,” Hongjoong said firmly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his face. “You’re mine. I’m yours. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Seonghwa exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from his body. He rested his head against Hongjoong’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in a long time, he felt completely safe, completely seen. Even against a cold office wall, with no bed or comfort beyond each other, they had found home in each other’s arms.

Seonghwa pulled back slightly, still pressed against Hongjoong, and let out a shaky laugh. “I can’t believe we just… did all of that against a wall,” he said, voice teasing but breathless.

Hongjoong chuckled, brushing a damp strand of hair from Seonghwa’s forehead. “We’re resourceful,” he said, smirking. “And messy. Very messy.”

Seonghwa smiled despite the lingering heat and trembling. “Very resourceful... we did it on the bar too. Messy…but real.”

“Yes,” Hongjoong said firmly, tilting Seonghwa’s chin up to meet his gaze. “No more hiding. No more pretending. We’re a couple. Everyone can know, but most importantly—you know. I’m yours, and you’re mine. Officially.”

Seonghwa’s chest tightened with emotion, a mix of relief, love, and a lingering thrill. “I know,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Hongjoong’s. “I’m yours. Fully. No doubts, no hiding.”

Hongjoong’s grin softened into something tender as he wrapped Seonghwa in another hug, holding him close against the cold office wall. “Then it’s settled. We’re a team now, Hwa. No backing down.”