Mingyu wakes up to the disarray of messy sheets and the unfamiliar warmth of a body beside him. He groans, his throat feeling unbearably dry, as sunlight seeps through his eyelids, too bright and intrusive. It's one of the first days that he hasn't woken up to the dreary, oppressive weather of Chicago, but he knows that won't last long. The city has a way of trapping you in its winter grasp.
Summoning the strength to peel his eyes open, Mingyu flinches at the pounding in his head and the ache in his muscles. He groans again, glaring blearily at the ceiling as he struggles to piece together the fragments of last night. The haze begins to lift, his vision adjusting to the light. The first thing he notices is the cool air brushing against his skin, and then the warmth pressed against his side—or rather, someone.
Mingyu throws the blankets off and lets out a stuttered breath as reality crashes over him. He is, in fact, naked, and so is the person next to him. Panic surges through him as he notices the mop of messy raven hair and the unmistakable curves of someone who is definitely not a woman. That person just happens to be Jeon fucking Wonwoo, and it's like he's been thrown into freezing water. Mingyu feels paralyzed, his heart racing as his brain connects the dots, each memory hitting him like a tidal wave.
He'd slept with Wonwoo. They'd crossed a line that Mingyu had never considered before. The recollections flood in: Soonyoung grinding against him in the club, the intoxicating thrill of the night, the way Wonwoo had trembled under his touch, begging for more. The bliss, the moans, the sound of skin against skin. And, and, and—
Mingyu jumps out of bed, the room spinning as he nearly loses his footing, crashing onto his bare ass. He stares at Wonwoo with wide eyes, the other is still deep in slumber, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. Wonwoo looks serene, almost angelic, his features softened by sleep, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in Mingyu's mind. His makeup is smudged, his hair tousled from the night's escapades, and for a moment, Mingyu feels a pang of affection. But that quickly morphs into dread.
Mingyu panics, his heart racing as he bolts to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He doesn't know how long he stares at the door, trembling, stomach churning. He can't comprehend why he's so afraid. It was just a hookup, a fleeting moment that didn't mean anything. He doesn't swing that way; he never has. His heart doesn't race when he looks at Wonwoo. He can't afford to feel weakness. Yet, in the back of his mind, a voice whispers that his father knows; that he'll come banging on the door any moment, ready to disown him.
Fag. Fag. Fag. Fag.
His mother will be so disappointed.
Mingyu shakes his head, turning to the mirror, where his reflection stares back at him, wide-eyed and disheveled. "Get it together, Kim Mingyu," he mutters, trying to shake off the panic. He hops into the shower, turning the heat up until the water scalds his skin, scrubbing with the loofah until it feels like he's peeling away the remnants of last night. He tries to wash off the lingering scent of Wonwoo, the warmth of his touch, as if scrubbing hard enough will erase the memory.
After what feels like an eternity, he finally steps out, heart still racing, and returns to his bedroom. Wonwoo is still sound asleep, blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside Mingyu. Quietly, he dresses for work, the fabric of his clothes feeling foreign against his skin. He debates waking Wonwoo, but he isn't ready for that conversation—not yet. Instead, he leaves a note on the side table, along with a glass of water and some aspirin, hoping it will ease the younger's inevitable hangover.
As Mingyu steps outside, the sun has already vanished behind a thick blanket of clouds, and the chill bites at his skin. Mingyu smiles up at the grey sky, the dry skin of his lips cracking and bleeding at the stretch. He doesn't flinch at the sting; instead, he smiles wider, feeling the blood well up—a stark reminder of his turmoil. With one last glance back at the house, he takes the stairs down two at a time, the weight of his thoughts dragging him down as he runs away from the chaos he's created.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Encounter
Fiksi Penggemar"I saw you staring' at me in there," he says before Mingyu can even register who he is. Mingyu blinks rapidly, his heavy eyelids feeling like lead, and rubs his eyes in a futile attempt to shake off the fog of exhaustion. He blinks again, disbelief...
