Work Text:
April 1st, 2025
The soft hum of the television filled the dimly lit apartment, blending with the occasional rustle of blankets as Mingyu clung tightly to Wonwoo on their infamous blue sofa. Outside, the city of Seoul thrived in its usual rhythm, lights flickering in the distance, cars rushing through the streets—but inside, time seemed to slow. The world beyond their shared space felt irrelevant, distant, as if the universe had carved out this moment solely for them.
Mingyu buried his face into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck, inhaling his familiar scent—fresh linen, a hint of his cologne, and something inherently Wonwoo. His grip around the older’s waist tightened, as if he could anchor him here, keep him from slipping away.
“I hate this,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against Wonwoo’s skin. His lips ghosted over the soft flesh, warm breath fanning across his collarbone.
A quiet chuckle rumbled through Wonwoo’s chest, and he absentmindedly combed his fingers through Mingyu’s thick, tousled hair, threading through the strands in a soothing rhythm. “What do you mean? You act like I’m going off to war.”
Mingyu pulled back slightly, his glossy brown eyes locking onto Wonwoo’s. The weight of his emotions sat heavy in his gaze, making his usual puppy-like expression even more heartbreaking. “Might as well be. You’ll be gone, and I won’t even get to send you off because of that stupid schedule. And then my birthday… you won’t be here.”
Wonwoo sighed, tilting his head with a small, amused smile. He had always been used to Mingyu’s over-the-top affection, but tonight, there was something different about it. It wasn’t just clinginess—it was desperation, a silent plea.
“You’ll survive, Gyu,” he said softly, reaching out to pinch Mingyu’s cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Mingyu groaned dramatically, flopping back against the sofa with a loud huff. “No! I refuse. I’m coming up with a plan.” He shot up suddenly, gripping Wonwoo’s hands with renewed determination. “Let’s run away.”
Wonwoo raised a brow, amused by the sudden shift. “Run away where?”
“Anywhere but here.” Mingyu’s lips jutted out in a deep pout. “Somewhere they won’t find us. Maybe the mountains? We can live in a cabin, raise a dog or maybe cats I do not care if I am allergic, and grow our own vegetables.”
Wonwoo smirked, eyes twinkling mischievously. “And what, you think you’ll survive without your luxury skincare products and five-star meals?”
Mingyu sniffled, dramatically wiping away nonexistent tears. “If it means staying with you, I’ll suffer.”
Wonwoo let out a full laugh this time, the sound deep and rich. But when he turned back to Mingyu, his smile faltered just a little. He could see it now—the unshed tears in Mingyu’s eyes, the way his fingers curled slightly into the fabric of Wonwoo’s hoodie like he was afraid to let go. He reached up, cupping Mingyu’s cheek gently.
“Your eyes are so swollen, Gyu. You look like you’ve been crying for days.”
Mingyu huffed, crossing his arms childishly. “I have been! You’re really enlisting, hyung.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying just how deeply this affected him.
Wonwoo’s teasing gaze softened, and he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss against Mingyu’s forehead. “I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to leave you either.”
For a moment, silence settled between them, broken only by the occasional distant honk from the streets below. The weight of tomorrow pressed heavily against their chests, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
Then, Wonwoo’s stomach grumbled, breaking the sentimental atmosphere.
Mingyu blinked before raising an eyebrow. “Hungry?”
Wonwoo grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. Let’s eat.”
Mingyu sighed dramatically but relented, untangling himself from the warmth of their embrace. “Fine, but no Buldak. You eat that stuff like it’s candy, and I hate it.”
Wonwoo gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his chest. “Gyu, tonight’s special. I should be allowed to eat whatever I want.”
Mingyu groaned but stood up anyway, grumbling under his breath as he shuffled toward the kitchen. “You’re so lucky I love you.”
Wonwoo chuckled, watching Mingyu’s broad back disappear behind the counter. “I know,” he murmured to himself, a fond smile playing on his lips.
As the night stretched on, they sat cross-legged on the floor, bowls of fire-red noodles steaming in front of them. They talked and laughed between bites, reminiscing about old memories, about the first time they met, about the times they had fought and made up, about the future that still lay ahead.
Mingyu watched as Wonwoo slurped up another mouthful of the devilishly spicy noodles, his nose tinged pink, his eyes watering slightly. Normally, Mingyu would have scolded him, taken the bowl away before he could burn his insides further—but tonight, he didn’t care. He just wanted to see Wonwoo happy.
Because tomorrow, everything would change. And tonight, he just wanted to hold on a little longer.
It was already past 2 AM (April 2nd), yet neither of them had the heart to sleep. The television continued playing some random movie, but neither of them paid attention. They remained tangled together, wrapped in the warmth of their shared blankets, savoring every second left before morning came.
Mingyu shifted slightly, pressing his lips against the nape of Wonwoo’s neck, leaving slow, lingering kisses. Wonwoo hummed at the soft sensation, his body relaxing into the touch.
“Gyu…” Wonwoo murmured, half-scolding yet filled with warmth. “You have a flight in just a few hours. You should at least try to rest.”
Mingyu ignored him, instead trailing his lips down Wonwoo’s shoulder, tightening his arms around the older. “Don’t care,” he whispered against his skin. “I just want to be with you.”
Wonwoo sighed, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re impossible.”
Mingyu only held him closer, his hands roaming gently, his lips leaving soft kisses in their wake. There was a quiet desperation in the way he touched Wonwoo tonight—something raw and unspoken, as if trying to imprint himself onto Wonwoo’s very being. And Wonwoo, understanding it all without words, let him.
Mingyu’s lips traveled back up, pressing against Wonwoo’s jaw, his cheek, the corner of his lips—soft, lingering touches that spoke of longing. Wonwoo finally turned to face him, their eyes locking in the dim glow of the TV screen. Mingyu’s gaze was heavy with emotion, his fingers brushing over Wonwoo’s cheek with a gentleness that made Wonwoo’s heart ache.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Mingyu admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not even for a few days.”
Wonwoo smiled softly, reaching up to thread his fingers through Mingyu’s hair. “I know,” he murmured, pulling him closer. “But we’ll be okay.”
Mingyu’s breath hitched slightly as Wonwoo leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss against his lips. It was slow, unhurried—filled with the promise of return, of unwavering devotion. But Mingyu wasn’t satisfied with just that. His hands slid down Wonwoo’s back, pulling him in, deepening the kiss with a fervor that betrayed his emotions. Wonwoo responded in kind, his arms winding around Mingyu’s neck as their lips moved in sync, soft sighs escaping between kisses.
Mingyu gently guided Wonwoo onto his back, his body hovering over him as he took his time savoring the moment. His lips mapped every inch of Wonwoo’s skin—his jaw, his throat, the spot just beneath his ear that always made Wonwoo shiver. Mingyu’s fingers traced slow, lazy patterns against his sides, memorizing the warmth, the way Wonwoo reacted to his every touch.
Wonwoo’s fingers dug into Mingyu’s shoulders, anchoring himself as their bodies molded together. The room was quiet except for the rustle of sheets, the shared breaths, the whispered names. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was something deeper, something that spoke of love and longing, of the ache of temporary goodbyes. They moved together in perfect rhythm, their touches lingering, their whispered words filled with meaning beyond what could be spoken aloud.
Much later, as they lay tangled in each other’s embrace, Mingyu pressed a final kiss to Wonwoo’s temple. His grip remained firm, as if afraid that letting go even in sleep would make Wonwoo disappear.
“I love you,” Mingyu whispered against his skin, voice drowsy but filled with conviction.
Wonwoo smiled, fingers tracing gentle circles against Mingyu’s back. “I love you too, Gyu.”
And with that, they let sleep finally take them, still wrapped up in each other, holding on for as long as they could.
By the time morning crept in, the soft golden light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. The city outside had begun to stir, the distant hum of life filtering through the walls, but inside their small world, time moved at its own slow, reluctant pace.
Wonwoo was the first to wake, blinking sleepily as he took in the sight before him. Mingyu was still deep in slumber, his face relaxed, his breathing slow and even. His arms remained locked around Wonwoo’s waist, his body curled against him in a way that made it nearly impossible for Wonwoo to move. A hint of last night’s emotions still lingered in Mingyu’s furrowed brow, even in sleep, and Wonwoo couldn’t help but smile at how tightly the younger clung to him.
Carefully, he attempted to shift, only for Mingyu to tighten his hold, letting out a groggy sound of protest.
"No," Mingyu mumbled, his voice hoarse with sleep. "Just stay."
Wonwoo chuckled softly, feeling the vibration of Mingyu’s voice against his chest. He reached up, brushing a few stray strands of hair from Mingyu’s forehead before cupping his cheek. "Gyu, I’m not going anywhere." He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Mingyu’s lips. "But you do have to get up soon."
Mingyu groaned, stubborn as ever. He nuzzled deeper into Wonwoo’s neck, refusing to acknowledge the approaching reality of his flight. "No. I don’t care. I just want to stay like this. Forever."
Wonwoo’s heart softened at the vulnerability in Mingyu’s voice. He ran gentle fingers through the younger’s hair, soothing him the way he knew always worked. "You’re being dramatic again," he teased lightly, though his voice was filled with affection.
Mingyu exhaled a shaky breath, his arms flexing as if he could physically keep Wonwoo from slipping away. "Because you’re my home."
A silence stretched between them, filled only with the steady rhythm of their breathing. Wonwoo could feel the weight of Mingyu’s words pressing against his chest, making his heart ache in the best way possible. He tilted his head down, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of Mingyu’s head, whispering against his skin.
"Then don’t ever leave home, okay?"
Mingyu nodded against him, his grip loosening just enough to allow Wonwoo to stroke his back in slow, comforting motions. "I won’t," Wonwoo murmured, letting himself melt into the warmth of Mingyu’s embrace, knowing that no matter the distance or time apart, they would always find their way back to each other.
The airport buzzed with the usual flurry of activity—passengers rushing to their gates, flight announcements echoing through the terminal, and the occasional flashes of cameras capturing Seventeen’s departure. The members, dressed in comfortable yet stylish airport fashion, moved in a loose group, their presence drawing attention as always. But amidst the cheerful chatter and last-minute adjustments to their carry-ons, one figure stood apart.
Mingyu.
He lingered near the wall, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoddie, his cap pulled low over his eyes. He wasn’t talking, wasn’t smiling.. he was just standing there, gazing blankly as if he could will time to slow down, as if staring hard enough might make the ache in his chest lessen.
The flashing cameras didn’t miss it. Dispatch was there, their lenses capturing everything—the way Mingyu kept to himself, how his usually energetic demeanor had dimmed, the redness around his eyes that hinted at a sleepless night. Within minutes, social media exploded with images of him, his sorrow etched into every frame.
“Mingyu looks miserable…”
“Did he cry last night?”
“Poor Gyu, he must be heartbroken he can’t send Wonwoo off.”
“This is the saddest airport Mingyu we’ve ever seen. He’s really not even trying to hide it.”
The MinWon tandem’s dedicated fans, notorious for their detective skills, quickly pieced the puzzle together. They knew exactly why Mingyu looked like a kicked puppy.. Wonwoo was leaving the following day, and Mingyu wouldn't be there to see him off. The realization fueled the heartbreak even further.
“Hyung,” Seungkwan called softly, nudging Mingyu’s arm. “You okay?”
Mingyu blinked, finally tearing his gaze away from wherever he is staring. He forced a small smile, but Seungkwan wasn’t convinced.
Before he could say anything, Hoshi—always the self-proclaimed mood maker—decided it was time to intervene. He grinned, draping an arm around Mingyu’s shoulders. “You think Wonwoo will be this miserable when it’s your turn to enlist?” he teased, voice light with mischief.
The reaction was immediate.
Mingyu’s head snapped toward Hoshi, eyes narrowing into a glare so sharp it could cut steel. “Not funny,” he muttered darkly, his lips pressed into a tight line.
The rest of the members burst into laughter at the way Hoshi immediately shrank under Mingyu’s deadly stare. Even Cheol, who usually enjoyed watching chaos unfold, shook his head with a sigh. “Hoshi, you really have no sense of timing.”
Dokyeom smacked the back of Hoshi’s head. “Idiot,” he scolded. “Now is not the time.”
Hoshi pouted, rubbing the sore spot. “I was just trying to lighten the mood…”
Mingyu groaned, slumping into his seat once they boarded the plane. Despite the members’ attempts to keep things lively, his mind was elsewhere. The physical distance from Wonwoo was already starting to weigh on him, and he hadn’t even left the country yet.
Hours later, they landed in Mexico. As soon as they reached their hotel rooms, Mingyu wasted no time throwing his luggage onto the floor and diving onto the bed, pulling out his phone instantly. Without hesitation, he video-called Wonwoo.
The call barely rang twice before Wonwoo picked up, the older’s face appearing on the screen with a knowing smirk.
“You went viral, crybaby.”
Mingyu groaned, rolling onto his back dramatically. “Shut up. I was just standing there, minding my business!”
Wonwoo chuckled. “Looking like a kicked puppy while minding your business.”
Mingyu narrowed his eyes. “At least I am not like someone who begs me to get pregnant so they wouldn’t have to enlist.”
Wonwoo choked on his own breath. “MINGYU.”
Mingyu burst into laughter, his previous gloom temporarily forgotten as he rolled on the bed, clutching his stomach. “You should’ve seen your face just now.”
Wonwoo’s cheeks burned red as he sputtered, “That is not what I said!”
“Oh?” Mingyu smirked, leaning closer to the camera. “So you didn’t—”
“Shut up.”
Mingyu grinned, pleased with himself. Their banter continued, playful teasing replacing the weight of their impending separation. Even across the ocean, they found comfort in each other, their laughter bridging the gap between them.
A sudden knock on Mingyu’s door interrupted their moment. “Yah, stop having a sexy video call just hours after leaving Korea,” DK’s voice rang out, followed by muffled laughter from the other members.
“Come on, you can flirt later,” Joshua added. “We have rehearsals.”
Mingyu groaned dramatically. “They’re ruining our moment,” he whined, making Wonwoo chuckle.
The rest of the members yelled their goodbyes to Wonwoo through the door before leaving, warning Mingyu not to take too long.
Mingyu sighed, turning his attention back to Wonwoo. “I miss you already.”
Wonwoo’s expression softened. “I miss you too.”
A beat of silence passed, filled only with the sound of their breathing. Mingyu traced the screen with his finger, as if he could somehow touch Wonwoo through it. “You are my home,” he whispered.
Wonwoo smiled, eyes warm with quiet affection. “And I’ll always come back home.”
With that final promise, they ended the call, both holding onto the love that would always keep them connected—no matter the distance, no matter the time.
💚💜