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ceinturedorionTitle: i love you to death (drive safe)
Pairing: Ong Seongwu/Hwang Minhyun
Fandom: Wanna one, NU'EST
Rating: Mature
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.⋆.˚ ☽⭒.⋆
two: a song for only us (no one else matters as much)
The trip to Tokyo had been more exhausting than Minhyun had expected.
To be fair, he hadn’t eaten the night before, and he had skipped breakfast to make it to the airport in time. He had ignored his growling stomach for as long as he could, until he was finally safe in the hotel room, ordering the most frugal meal he could think of off room service. He ate it without joy; joy was for when you were allowed the calories, and he was dangerously close to regaining the weight he had managed to lose in the past couple weeks, or so he thought. Just part of the idol life, he mused, thinking back to his Nu’est years, and even his Wanna One years, when he burned so many calories with practice and concerts that he’d only had to truly worry about food when he decided to go for a shirtless stage. Still, counting calories was an old habit of his that he didn’t see himself letting go of any time soon.
He sighed, pushing the half-empty room service tray away. The silence of the hotel room was deafening, and the bed, pristine and massive, felt entirely too empty.
Minhyun broke that silence the only way he knew how.
He pushed himself off the bed, went to the mirror and took a good look at himself, wrapped in the loose hotel robe he’d put on after taking a quick shower. Taking out his phone, he snapped a picture without thinking, tilting his neck to show more skin.
He opened Seongwu’s chat window on Kakaotalk, and sent the picture he had just taken before he could change his mind.
Hwang Minhyun:
[Photo attachment]
Hotel beds are too big for just one person.
He had barely tossed the phone onto the mattress when it buzzed. Against his better judgment, Minhyun grabbed his phone.
Ong Seongwu:
You know exactly what you’re doing with that robe. It’s unfair.
Minhyun smirked at the screen, proud of himself.
Hwang Minhyun:
Is it?
He pushed further, toeing that invisible line they had never really taken seriously.
Hwang Minhyun:
Tell me what you’d do if you were here.
He couldn’t look away once the three dots appeared on his screen.
Ong Seongwu:
I’d pull that knot loose the second the door closed.
I wouldn’t let you wear it at all.
I’d pin you against that bed and make sure you’d stop overthinking.
Minhyun swallowed hard. A sudden, heavy heat pooled low on his stomach, making him flush up to the tips of his ears.
…
Keep going.
Ong Seongwu:
I’d put my hands right on your waist.
Exactly where you think you’re soft.
I’d hold you there until you realize how perfectly you fit on my grip.
I’d mark you all over so you’d remember I was there.
I was never allowed to do that. But I still want to.
To show you how much I miss you.
Your smile.
Your body.
The way you’d look at me and laugh when we would hide just to kiss for five minutes before a schedule.
Just you. All of you.
Minhyun dropped the phone on his lap, burying his face in his hands. Things were escalating, and his mind swam with memories of Seongwu whining against his shoulder because Minhyun wouldn’t let him bite; Seongwu pulling him into a janitor closet for a quick kiss before a music show performance.
Seongwu’s resigned smile when Minhyun told him they had an expiration date.
After all these years, Seongwu’s devotion to him hadn’t waned or died down; if anything, the self-imposed distance between them only made it stronger, even though it shouldn’t be.
Hwang Minhyun:
Seongwu.
I can’t breathe when you say things like that. I want you here.
Ong Seongwu:
Then hold onto that feeling until you get back.
Because the second you walk through my door, I’m going to prove it.
Hwang Minhyun:I’ll hold you to that.
Goodnight, Seongwu.
Ong Seongwu:
Goodnight.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.⋆.˚ ☽⭒.⋆
The high of their late-night texting carried Minhyun through the next day, and the high of the fanmeeting carried him through the hazy return to his hotel room.
It vanished the moment he was alone again.
He took a shower and stood in front of the mirror in the hotel bathroom. Looking at himself. Searching for all the flaws he knew were there.
His undefined abdomen.
The little blemishes he could still see in his skin, despite his intensive skincare routine.
His stubby fingers nothing in the world could fix.
The soft lighting of the bathroom beat down on him, stripping away the untouchable idol, exposing his every shortcoming.
He leaned closer to the glass, scrutinizing his face.
The line of his jaw.
The slight fullness of his cheeks.
The dark circles under his eyes, well-concealed by makeup throughout the day.
He briefly mused about his struggles with his weight–to idol standards, which he still had to fit in– and self-image ever since he was discharged from the military. They had gotten to him so badly he had even hesitated to eat a single spoonful of tiramisu Seongwu offered him back in their date.
Seongwu.
“You are completely, undeniably gorgeous. You’ve always been.”
Seongwu didn’t care about the cameras or strict diets. He just saw Minhyun.
Minhyun let out a shaky breath, leaving the bathroom to grab his phone from the nightstand. He wrapped himself up in the hotel robe and sat on the edge of the bed. He let his thumb hover over the screen for a second before pressing to unlock it.
He typed down quickly. With no jokes or flirty selfies to hide behind this time.
Hwang Minhyun:
I just finished the fanmeeting.
I was looking in the mirror.
It’s hard sometimes.
Being under all these lights and expectations.
But I was thinking about what you said at dinner.
About how I look.
I think I only really like myself when you're the one looking.
The typing bubble on Seongwu’s end appeared immediately. It vanished, appeared again, and then a flurry of messages, much like Minhyun’s, came through, completely dismantling whatever defenses Minhyun still had left.
Ong Seongwu:
Minhyun.
I don’t want you to ever look at yourself through their eyes again.
If I was there right now, I wouldn’t let you look in the mirror at all.
I’d kiss you until this big, wonderful head of yours was completely empty of every cruel thing you’ve ever been told about yourself.
You are the most devastatingly beautiful thing I have ever seen.
Minhyun closed his eyes. He could feel a traitorous tear slipping down his cheek. He pressed the phone flush against his chest, right over his racing heart, letting the weight of Seongwu’s words wash over him. It was terrifying to be known this well.
But, for the first time in seven years, he let himself relish in it.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.⋆.˚ ☽⭒.⋆
The next days were a blur of costume changes, performances, and a sea of faces. The day after his final Tokyo fanmeeting was supposed to be one of respite, until Minhyun’s manager informed him of a schedule change and an incoming magazine shoot. He would have to stay an extra day.
The exhaustion hit him twice as hard. By the time the shoot wrapped up, late in the evening, Minhyun wanted nothing more than to curl up in the couch of Seongwu’s living room, preferably wrapped around Seongwu himself.
That would have to wait a few more days.
Returning to his hotel room, Minhyun immediately ran the water in the bathtub, sinking into the scalding heat in an attempt to soothe his aching muscles and frayed nerves.
He grabbed his phone from the edge of the tub, dropping any pretense of playing it cool.
Hwang Minhyun:
They extended my schedule. Had a magazine shoot today.
I want to be grateful, but I kind of hate this.
I want to be home.
Or on your couch.
Or wherever you are.
I want you here.
Ong Seongwu:
Make up your mind, that’s a lot of places to be at the same time.
You’re being selfish again.
You practically ran me off your car a few days ago, and now you’re crying about wanting my company across the ocean?
Seongwu’s teasing tone wasn’t enough to make Minhyun retreat this time. He was too tired to keep up the walls.
Hwang Minhyun:
I am.
I want to be selfish with you.
I’m tired of running away.
There was a long pause on the other end. Minhyun was half-tempted to turn off his phone and ignore it until he was back in Seoul.
Then, Seongwu’s typing bubble reappeared.
Ong Seongwu:
Come home safely.
I’ll be waiting.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.⋆.˚ ☽⭒.⋆
When Minhyun’s flight finally landed in Seoul the following night, he fell into a trance. He went straight home, not bothering to unpack his bags or tidying up whatever could have mysteriously fallen out of place in his absence. The silence didn’t even bother him this time–it felt heavier, somehow, thick with his own anticipation.
He left his bags in the entrance hall, kicking off his shoes haphazardly before going straight to the bathroom. He ran the water for another hot bath, throwing a soft-scented bath bomb into it. The flight had left him feeling sticky and drained, but his heart was beating a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He stripped off his clothes, sinking into the nearly-scalding water, and for the first time in months he didn’t scrub himself like he felt uncomfortable in his own skin.
He just soaked in the water.
And then he grabbed his phone, opening the camera and angling it downwards, framing his legs under the lavender water and bubbles.
He snapped a picture of his bare legs submerged in water, the bubbles framing his skin, and sent it to Seongwu.
Hwang Minhyun:
[Photo attachment]
Getting ready for you.
He waited for a reply, despite the embarrassment of sending such a picture quickly catching up with him.
One minute passed. Then five. Then ten.
Seongwu didn’t even read the message.
Minhyun frowned, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind, and stared mindlessly at the screen, wondering if he should call Seongwu, maybe apologize for being so forward–
The intercom buzzed violently, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He scrambled out of the tub, hurriedly wrapping a towel around his waist, and practically ran to the front door, hoping his instincts were right.
He unlocked the door, shivering from the cold air.
Seongwu was standing there, his chest heaving as if he had sprinted from his car to the elevator. He had clearly dropped everything the second he got the text, rushing over to Minhyun’s apartment without the slightest hesitation.
Minhyun’s breath hitched. Before he could even open his mouth to speak, Seongwu stepped inside, kicked the door closed, and shoved Minhyun back against the hallway wall.
“Seongwu–”
Seongwu cut him off, his lips crashing onto Minhyun’s in a bruising kiss. Minhyun gasped, feeling a jolt down his spine; it was nothing like the careful, hesitant tension they had shared in the car.
It was messy. Hungry. And Minhyun couldn’t get enough of it.
Seongwu’s hands were everywhere, tangled in Minhyun’s wet hair, then pulling him down by the shoulders, then gripping his waist exactly where he had promised he would. Minhyun let out a breathless whine, his hands coming up to clutch at Seongwu’s shoulders, to pull at the short hair on the nape of his neck, to dig his short fingernails onto his neck.
He could finally let go of the control he had maintained for the past seven years.
“You’re beautiful," Seongwu whispered against his lips, breathless and reverent. He kissed down his jaw, his neck, dragged his teeth against Minhyun’s pulse point, bit down on his collarbone. “You are so fucking beautiful. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”
Minhyun squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his knees buckle slightly under the weight of Seongwu’s words. He didn’t want anyone else. He only ever wanted Seongwu.
He tangled his fingers into Seongwu’s jacket, pulling him closer, pushing himself off the wall and towards his bedroom. As always, Seongwu happily followed his lead.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.⋆.˚ ☽⭒.⋆
Sunlight was spilling across the crumpled sheets by the time Minhyun finally opened his eyes.
He didn’t move immediately. There was a deep, satisfying ache settled heavy in his muscles, a physical reminder of every single line Minhyun had finally allowed them to cross the night before. Still, he felt incredibly light despite the lingering but delightful exhaustion, happily pinned to the bed by the heavy arm draped over his waist.
Minhyun turned his head slowly against the pillow. Seongwu was still asleep, his face inches away from Minhyun’s own, half-buried into the pillow. In the muted morning light, all of Seongwu’s sharp edges and relentless teasing were gone. He just looked at peace.
Minhyun carefully shifted his arm, reaching up to gently brush a sweaty strand of hair away from Seongwu’s forehead. Seongwu mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and instinctively pulled Minhyun closer, as if afraid Minhyun would run if he let go.
A sudden ache bloomed in Minhyun’s chest as he watched Seongwu. It had nothing to do with the physical soreness he felt.
Seven years.
He shifted again, staring at the ceiling. Over two thousand and five hundred days of stolen glances, of pulling away right when they got too close, of going home to empty apartments and relying on a phone screen to bridge their self-imposed gap. Seven years of hesitation.
And for what?
Minhyun swallowed back the sudden lump in his throat. He understood now, why they had spent so long circling around each other, never moving on. It wasn’t just the cameras or the schedules or the fear of a scandal. It was Minhyun’s belief that he wasn’t worthy of something this good.
It must have been Seongwu’s, too, he thought, glancing at the sleeping man by his side. If Minhyun thought only his idol persona was deserving of love, Seongwu must have thought he wasn’t deserving of more than the scraps Minhyun was willing to give him over the years.
They had wasted so much time being terrified when they could have had this the entire time.
A soft rustle of sheets pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. Seongwu shifted, his brow furrowed, and then he blinked his eyes open. His gaze was hazy with sleep for a second before it focused on Minhyun’s face.
“Stop thinking so loudly," he mumbled against the pillow, his voice rough with sleep.
Minhyun blinked, turning his head towards Seongwu. “I wasn’t thinking.," he lied softly, his wavering voice betraying him.
“Liar," Seongwu whispered. “You’re going to overthink until you push me away again.” He reached up to gently trace the line of Minhyun’s jaw. “I can sense you trying to find a reason to tell me this was a mistake.”
Minhyun squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into Seongwu’s touch. “I’m not. It wasn’t a mistake. It’s just…” He sighed, reaching up to hold onto Seongwu’s hand on his jaw. “It was stupid of me. To end things back then. We… I forced us into this limbo for so long, refusing to move on and not letting you move on either. It was…” He let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. “It was selfish of me.”
Seongwu smiled fondly at Minhyun. “It was,” he agreed, then gently tilted Minhyun’s head so they were facing each other. “But hey. Look at me.”
Minhyun did.
“I didn’t want to move on. I never wanted anyone else," Seongwu reassured him, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If I stayed, it’s because I chose to stay.”
Minhyun felt another pang in his chest, the persistent lump in his throat making it hard to speak.
“So stop overthinking,” Seongwu continued, moving his hand to cup the back of Minhyun’s neck and drawing slow, soothing circles against his skin. “Just tell me what you want us to do now. We don’t have to go back to how it was. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
Minhyun looked at him–really looked at him, this time, despite the blur in his eyes from the tears threatening to spill out. He looked at the man who had waited over half a decade for him, who had followed his every lead without hesitation, who had practically worshipped him the night before.
He didn’t want invisible lines anymore.
He didn’t want the plausible deniability.
“Be my boyfriend”, Minhyun blurted out, the words leaving his mouth before his brain could catch up with them. “Again. Be my boyfriend again.”
For a moment, Seongwu only stared at him. Then, a smile broke across his face– a smile so bright, so uncontained and breathtakingly radiant, that it made Minhyun’s chest hurt a third time.
Seongwu let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, pressing his forehead against Minhyun’s.
“Yeah”, Seongwu whispered, his voice trembling slightly with uncontained joy. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”
And this time, when Seongwu leaned in to close the gap between them, Minhyun didn’t even think about pulling away.
