Archive of Our Own ^beta

Track 1: Harder to Breathe

You drain me dry and make me wonder why I’m even here.

Minghao and Junhui are falling apart. 

Minghao really wishes they weren’t. He really, really fucking wishes things were like they were a year ago, two years ago, when they’d just met in a gas station and fallen in love in the backseat of Junhui’s beat to hell Hyundai and in Minghao’s full-sized bed shoved into the bedroom in the apartment he shared with Mingyu and Seokmin. 

It’s nearly three years later though, and they’re falling apart.

It starts slowly. Junhui takes his first modeling job in New York, flying out of LA one morning and coming back two days later with a bright grin on his face. “It was amazing,” he says, and Minghao feels something shift in the Earth’s core, but he says, “that’s great, baby.”

The jobs keep coming and Junhui keeps flying out, coming home brighter and exhausted, a simultaneous mess. Minghao misses him desperately and he waits for the jobs to transfer to LA. He waits patiently.

The bright light at the end of the tunnel of Junhui being gone all the time ends up being an oncoming train.

Track 2: This Love

My pressure on your hips, sinking my fingertips into every inch of you because I know that's what you want me to do.

“My manager wants me to move to New York,” Junhui says over dinner. It’s their three-year anniversary. They’re at home, they’ve ordered their favorite take-out, and Junhui is bringing everything crashing down. “Isn’t that exciting?”

“What?” Minghao asks.

“We’re moving to New York!”

Minghao laughs. “What the fuck are you talking about, Junhui? No, we’re not.”

“What?” Junhui asks with a little disbelieving laugh. “Didn’t you— My manager wants me to move.”

“And I’m assuming you told him you would talk to your boyfriend about it?” Minghao asks.

Junhui bites his lip. “I said yes.”

Minghao stands up from the table and starts to gather his things. He can’t be here right now. He doesn’t want to yell at Junhui and he’s seconds away from it. 

“Minghao, wait, let’s talk about this,” Junhui says, taking Minghao by the arm. 

“Talk about what, Junhui?” Minghao spits out. “Sounds like you’ve already made your decision. You’re moving to New York. Great.”

“I thought you’d be excited,” Junhui says, his eyebrows furrowed. “This is what I’ve been working towards for years.”

“And what about what I’ve been working toward?” Minghao asks. “I’m in a band, Junhui.”

“Well, you could try again in New York,” Junhui says, like it’s a peace offering. 

Minghao scoffs. “I could try again? I’ve been with Seokmin and Mingyu since we were 16. I’ve been with them for eleven years and you think I’m going to walk away from that?”

“It’s not working out here, so…”

“Oh, fuck you, Junhui,” Minghao hisses. “Fuck. You.”

He tears away from Junhui’s arm and Junhui has to block the door to get him not to leave. “Minghao, I’m just saying that—”

“You’re saying that your modeling matters more than my music,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes. “You’re saying that because you’re successful and I’m not, what you want to do matters more than something that’s integral to me. Do you even care about that, Junhui?”

“I go to every show!” Junhui cries.

“Not lately!” Minghao yells back. “You’re always in New York!”

“Because I have something going for me!” Junhui yells. There it is. Minghao feels his heart shatter. He doesn’t think he gets to pick up the pieces. “Because you can bartend in New York. Because you could still try with your music in New York and I have something going for me and—”

“And I don’t,” Minghao interrupts. “Yeah, I got that, Junhui. I’m not going to New York.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Minghao says blankly. “I’m not going to fucking New York.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” Junhui asks, clearly in disbelief.

He doesn’t pose it like there was an option for Junhui to stay in LA or like there was even an option for trying to do long distance. Either Minghao went along with what Junhui decided unilaterally or that was it.

“Yeah,” Minghao says. “If that’s what you’re going to make this into, then yeah, I’m breaking up with you.”

“We’ve been together for three goddamn years!”

“So you’d think you’d give a fuck about me!” Minghao yells. “God, you know, if you’d just fucking asked, I would have talked to Seokmin and Mingyu about moving. I would have done it, Junhui, but no, you had to decide that what I wanted didn’t matter. You had to decide that I didn’t matter, that I was just some accessory that you got to take with you wherever you wanted to go.”

There are tears in Junhui’s eyes now. “That isn’t what I meant to do, Minghao. That isn’t— We can still make this work, we can, you can talk to Seokmin and Mingyu and—”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Minghao says firmly. “I’m not going to New York. You are, clearly, so we’re breaking up. I love you, Junhui. I love you so fucking much and you’ve so clearly chosen everything else over me and I can’t do that. I can’t play that game, not now that I know how you actually feel about me.”

“I love you,” Junhui says. He’s begging now, tears streaming down his face. Minghao scoffs. “I’ve spent three years loving you and I don’t want to break up, Hao, please don’t—”

“Don’t make this out like this was my decision,” Minghao hisses. “Good fucking try, Junhui. You broke this as soon as you told your manager yes without even thinking of asking me.”

Junhui is nearly weeping. Minghao isn’t. He can’t. Not in front of Junhui, because he can’t be vulnerable like that in front of him. Not again.

“Minghao, I’m sorry,” Junhui sobs. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean to do this. I’m sorry, please let me take it back, I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t take this back, Junhui,” Minghao says, and he sounds more tired than anything. “This isn’t something I can just forget that you’ve done. I have to go. I can’t be here with you anymore.”

Minghao gathers his keys and his wallet and leaves Junhui behind. He hears Junhui scream through their apartment door and he doesn’t look back, but he does let his tears fall. He finally lets them fall.

Track 3: Shiver

You chew me up and spit me out, enjoy the taste I leave in your mouth.

Junhui doesn’t move for another month, though he’s in New York over half the time anyway. Minghao sleeps on the couch when Junhui is home and they move around each other and everything is tense. Minghao is angry, Junhui is heartbroken. They’re not even on the same page on how they feel about breaking up after three years.

Junhui has tried to apologize on multiple occasions, probably looking for Minghao to cave and go with him, but Minghao staunchly refuses to hear it. He isn’t interested in Junhui’s regret. Not after everything he’s done. Not when he’s still leaving.

Minghao hoped, for all of two days, that maybe Junhui wouldn’t leave. Maybe Junhui would prove how much he did actually love Minghao and he wouldn’t go to New York. 

Junhui is still moving.

Boys like Minghao don’t get things like true love.

The last night that Junhui is in LA, all of his stuff sent along with the movers earlier in the afternoon, he comes out to the living room after they’ve both gone to bed.

“Come to bed,” Junhui says quietly. “Just for tonight.”

“I’m fine.”

“The couch isn’t comfortable, baby,” Junhui says. He’s pleading. He’s calling Minghao “baby.” “Please come to bed.”

The problem with Minghao is that he’s always given Junhui everything he’s wanted. Not moving is the first “no” he’s ever said to Junhui. 

“Okay,” Minghao says. He gets off the couch and follows Junhui into the bedroom, settling on his side. Junhui turns to face Minghao and Minghao is somehow possessed to face Junhui. 

“I’m sorry,” Junhui whispers.

Minghao sighs. “I know you are. That doesn’t change anything.”

“I love you.”

“That doesn’t change anything either,” Minghao whispers. 

“Can you just—” There are tears in Junhui’s eyes. “Can you say it back? Even if you don’t mean it?”

“I love you,” Minghao says gently. He wipes the tears from under Junhui’s eyes with his thumbs. “I do mean it.”

Minghao really shouldn’t let Junhui kiss him. He does. He shouldn’t kiss Junhui back. He does.

He shouldn’t let Junhui roll him onto his back to kiss him harder. He shouldn’t let Junhui undress him slowly, running his fingers over every inch of skin he can reach.

Minghao shouldn’t touch Junhui back. He shouldn’t strip Junhui down, shouldn’t drift his hand down to Junhui’s cock. 

Junhui slips his hand in between Minghao’s thighs and rubs gentle fingers on his clit, catching his moan in his mouth. “So pretty, baby. Always the prettiest boy.”

“Jun,” Minghao groans. “Do we need a condom?”

“No, I haven’t—” Junhui says, shaking his head. “I haven’t slept with anyone else. I can’t.”

“Okay,” Minghao says softly, and he tries not to focus on that last part. He moves them so he’s on top of Junhui, gathering Junhui’s wrists in one hand and pinning them above his head. He grinds down onto Junhui, getting him wet enough that he can pick up a rhythm with his hips rolling onto Junhui’s cock. Junhui’s head falls back in a moan before he seems to force himself to watch. He watches with wide eyes while Minghao sinks down onto his cock, still gripping his wrists.

“Good job, baby,” Junhui says softly while Minghao adjusts. “Doing so well.”

Minghao leans down to kiss Junhui as he sets a consistent pace, lifting up on his knees and dropping back down onto Junhui to hear him moan. He finally lets go of Junhui’s wrists and one of Junhui’s hands goes to cradle his face, the other one slipping down onto his clit. 

“Come for me, little love,” Junhui whispers against Minghao’s mouth. Minghao comes with a quiet cry, fucking himself through his orgasm before he pulls off to finish Junhui with his hand. Junhui comes with a low moan and Minghao works him through it before he gets out of bed to clean up. He cleans Junhui off with a warm washcloth before he gets back in bed.

Junhui pulls him into a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Minghao whispers. It hurts as he says it, sharp and bright and cracking his ribs. He kisses Junhui until Junhui yawns, switching to hold him until he falls asleep.

Junhui is a deep sleeper. He doesn’t notice when Minghao gets out of bed once he’s asleep. 

He won’t notice that Minghao is gone until the morning.

Track 4: She Will Be Loved

I don't mind spending every day out on your corner in the pouring rain.

One year later, Minghao is still in love with Junhui, and Junhui still looks so sad. Minghao expected the paparazzi pictures of Junhui, which have only picked up in the last year, to start to be less depressing as Junhui got over Minghao. They haven’t. Outside of every magazine shoot or runway show, Junhui looks miserable. 

“Are you looking at pictures of Junhui again?” Seokmin asks as he comes into the studio they’ve rented to record their demo album. “Don’t do that. It makes me want to kill myself, so I can’t imagine what it does to you.”

“It kind of makes me want to kill myself,” Minghao sighs. “He just looks so upset all the time. It hasn’t gotten any better.”

“And that’s not your responsibility,” Seokmin says for the millionth time. “It’s really not. You broke up. He isn’t your problem anymore.”

“He was never a problem,” Minghao tries, but Seokmin shoots him a look. It’s fair. Junhui was kind of a problem there in the end. “I want him to be my problem.”

“I know, honey, but he isn’t going to be again,” Seokmin says gently. “The only thing you can do now is get over him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Minghao sighs. “I just wish I wanted to.”

Seokmin frowns. Minghao looks back down at the picture of Junhui. He frowns too.

Track 5: Tangled

Would you ever turn your head and look? See if I'm gone.

The record label they’re meeting with next month is pushing for one more song to round out the album. Something “heavier rock,” and Seokmin and Mingyu look to Minghao to pull it off. Minghao digs into the emotions he’s been most afraid of for it.

Something about how he and Junhui treated each other in that last month where they weren’t together, the tense set of Junhui’s and Minghao’s shoulders in the month before that when Junhui was gone so much. They weren’t good for each other in the end, the two of them. That last month when Junhui still lived in LA while they were broken up, Minghao sniped at Junhui for anything he could get his hands on. It’s a shock that Junhui still wanted that last night with him with how he was being. 

He writes something about being tangled in this toxicity that you can’t break out of because you live in it, because it surrounds you, because it suffocates you. Seokmin and Mingyu say they like it and then look at Minghao like they’re afraid he’s going to shatter. It’s been a year and a half since Junhui left and Minghao thinks he still might shatter. He really still might.

They record the song anyway. Minghao tries not to think too hard about it.

Track 6: Must Get Out

"This is not goodbye," she said, it is just time for me to rest my head.

Minghao has never been to New York before the two year mark of when he and Junhui broke up. That’s also the day they’re supposed to go to meet with the record label about final preparations for their album release now that they’ve been signed. The producer they’re working with is New York based, ironically enough, and they fly everyone out to the studio in Manhattan for final mixing. 

“Are you going to call Junhui while we’re here?” Mingyu asks as their plane lands at LaGuardia. 

Minghao hums. “Do you think I should?”

“No, but that wasn’t why I asked,” Mingyu says. “You’re just still hung up on him. I thought you might want to get closure.”

“I don’t think I ever get to have closure with Junhui,” Minghao says. “I don’t think we get to end. Not really. He was it for me, I think.”

“So you’re going to call him?”

“No.”

Track 7: Through With You

Your intentions are unclear, I spend every hour waiting for a phone call that I know will never come.

The album drops. Minghao thinks that’s pretty fucking big—they’ve signed with a label and dropped an album. They’ve done what they needed to do.

And then the album charts. Minghao’s songs, the ones he wrote so painstakingly, get up to #3 on the US charts. Five songs on the album chart individually and their streams on Spotify skyrocket them from 100 monthly listeners to 1 million, then to 10 million. They do livestreams and interviews and they play a late night show, then two more of them. Minghao does interviews about being trans in the music industry. There are whispers of fame around every corner. It’s more than the three of them ever could have imagined.

In all of that, Minghao never considers Junhui hearing the songs. He assumes Junhui is probably avoiding all mention of them. He doesn’t think Junhui would listen to the album, so he doesn’t worry about the fact that every song on the album is about Junhui. 

He doesn’t worry about it until his phone rings. He never deleted Junhui’s number. His name flashes on Minghao’s phone screen.

“Hello?” Minghao asks when he picks up.

“Minghao,” Junhui says, like his name is a sigh of relief. “You picked up.”

“Yeah, of course,” Minghao says. “What’s up, Junhui?”

“I heard your album,” Junhui says. “It’s really fucking good, Minghao. I just had a question about it.”

“Hm?”

“Is it about me?” Junhui asks after a moment. “I know that’s presumptive, it’s been two and a half years and maybe you’ve had someone else, but I just need to know.”

Minghao hesitates. He can’t lie to Junhui. “Yeah. There isn’t a song on that album that isn’t about you.”

Junhui makes a sound like a sob, something guttural. “I miss you, Minghao. I’ve missed you this entire time and I regret so much and then you poured your soul into this and I just— I miss you. I had to tell you. I know you’ve probably moved on, but—”

“I haven’t,” Minghao says softly. “I haven’t moved on.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know what this all means,” Minghao says. “I don’t understand.”

“It means that I miss you and I’m so fucking stupid because I called knowing I have somewhere to be, but could I call you again?”

Minghao takes all of two seconds to mull it over. “Yeah. You can call me again.”

“Great,” Junhui says. Minghao can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, that’s— That’s incredible. I’m sorry, I have a photoshoot to get to, but I’ll call you tomorrow? Maybe 6 your time?”

“That works, yeah,” Minghao says softly. “Have fun at your photoshoot.”

“I will, thanks,” Junhui says breathlessly. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Talk then.”

Junhui hangs up and Minghao stares at his phone for a little bit in shocked silence. Junhui is going to call him tomorrow. Junhui heard his songs. Junhui missed him.

Junhui is going to call him tomorrow. Minghao is going to pick up.

Track 8: Secret

I know I don't know you, but I want you so bad.

“Hi,” Junhui says over FaceTime a week later. He sounds a little breathless. He usually does lately. Minghao smiles. “I've seen your face in interviews, but this is different.”

“Good different?” Minghao asks.

“Very good,” Junhui says with a laugh. “You’re so pretty. I missed your smile.”

Minghao knows this is dangerous. This is very, very dangerous. This last week has been very bad for Minghao’s heart, calling Junhui every day and hearing his voice and now, seeing his smile. Seokmin told Minghao in no uncertain terms that Minghao shouldn’t be doing this, but Minghao can’t help it. This is his Junhui and his Junhui wants him. He can’t help it.

Minghao covers his face with his hand and Junhui laughs again. “Don’t hide, Hao. I’ll stop. How was the studio today?”

Minghao talks about working on songs in the studio for their second album, Junhui talks about the photoshoot he had today, and it feels normal. It feels like a return to where they’re supposed to be. It was always supposed to be Minghao and Junhui. Nearly three years out from their breakup, it’s them again. 

“They were listening to your music on set,” Junhui says. “Your whole album was playing. It was so cool. I’ve always dreamed of your music playing on my sets like that.”

“Really?”

“I’ve always wanted us to combine like that,” Junhui says. “I told my makeup artist that I knew you and she thought it was so sick. She’s a trans woman, so she was talking about how amazing it was to see a trans artist doing so well.”

Minghao knows he’s blushing. “I’m trying my best.”

“And you’re doing amazing,” Junhui says with a smile. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard.”

Something in Minghao wants to point out that Junhui didn’t seem to think they would get here. He doesn’t.

“Yeah,” he says instead. “The boys and I are really excited about it. We’re sifting through the other songs I wrote that we pushed aside for this last album too.”

“You have more?”

“I have other stories to tell,” Minghao says vaguely. “From the last few years.”

“Like?”

“Like, um,” Minghao hesitates. “I tried to date someone. So that.”

“Oh,” Junhui says, his face falling. “That makes sense. It makes sense that you would have— Yeah.”

“I’m sure you did too.”

Junhui shakes his head. “No. I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t blame you,” Junhui says quietly. “I would have too if I were you. Our situations were a little different, that’s all.” Minghao desperately wants to ask Junhui to explain that, but Junhui just clears his throat. “So you have songs about that. Anything else?”

“More songs about you,” Minghao admits. “We only had 12 tracks, y’know. I have others.”

Junhui gives a half-smile. “I’ll take that. Do you have demos?”

Minghao plays a few demos for Junhui and when he’s done, Junhui looks like he’s trying not to cry.

“I should go, it’s getting late here,” Junhui says softly. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Jun,” Minghao says. “Get some rest. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Minghao.”

Junhui doesn’t quite cut the call quick enough. Minghao hears him choke on a sob before the call ends.

Track 9: Not Coming Home

You do not know how much this hurts me, to say these things that I don't wanna say.

They’re on the phone a week later, opting not to FaceTime tonight so Minghao could clean up around the apartment while they talk. 

“I wouldn’t say I’ve had the best time the last few years,” Junhui says when Minghao asks what the rise of his career has felt like. “I have a lot of regrets about how I did things.”

Minghao shouldn’t ask. “Like?”

“Are we doing this?” Junhui asks after a moment. “Are we talking about it?”

Minghao stands in the middle of his living room and says, “yeah, I think we are.”

“I regret how I got here,” Junhui says. “I regret that I came here the way I did. I regret leaving you.”

“Do you regret leaving LA?”

“No,” Junhui says. “If I’m being honest, no. I needed to be in New York to make this job work. I regret that I went about it the way I did though. I regret not asking you to come with me. I regret assuming that you would.”

“I appreciate the honesty, at least,” Minghao sighs. “I just still don’t understand why. I don’t understand why you just assumed I would go with you.”

“You and I were this certainty in my mind,” Junhui says. “I thought that of course, if one of us needed to be somewhere for our career, the other one would go there.”

“What about my career, Junhui?” Minghao asks desperately. “What about the fact that I needed to be in LA?”

Junhui sighs heavily. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“I didn’t think you would have the kind of success that I was having,” Junhui says quietly. Minghao flinches. “LA chews people up and spits them out, no matter how talented they are. I’ve always thought you were the best musician out there, but I thought that if no one else had figured that out in 11 years, no one would in LA. I genuinely thought that New York might be better for you to try again, but I didn’t think you were going to be successful like I was. It was a selfish, stupid thought.”

“I don’t understand,” Minghao says after a moment. “You just didn’t think I was going to do anything with my music?”

“Not anything big,” Junhui says, like it pains him to admit it. “I thought you would keep playing small shows and that would be it. I only thought it to rationalize why I said ‘yes’ to New York before asking you about it, because I knew as soon as I did it that I’d done something wrong. I never believed that before. I always thought you would get your big break.”

“How do I know you actually thought that?”

“I don’t know,” Junhui sighs. “I don’t know how to prove that to you. But I was so supportive for so long, and I meant that. I just knew I made a bad call and I needed to make it make sense to myself, so I threw you under the bus.”

There are tears streaming down Minghao’s face. It hurts so badly to hear, hurts so badly to confirm. The hurting should have dulled in the past few years, but this is sharp and biting. It’s a knife in between Minghao’s ribs.

“How am I supposed to know that you won’t do that again?” Minghao asks.

“You don’t trust me,” Junhui says after a moment. “Minghao, I don’t know what else to do. I’ve missed you for years, I haven’t so much as slept with anyone else because they weren’t you, I sent your album to everyone I knew the moment it was released. I’ve spent six years loving you. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“And you still chose your own career over me when push came to shove,” Minghao says, choking on it. “You chose your career for the three years we’ve been broken up, because you never so much as called.”

“I didn’t think I could!” Junhui says. “I thought I’d broken us. I thought you wouldn’t want to hear from me.”

“You never fought for me,” Minghao says hotly. “You never offered to stay in LA or even do long distance. You spent three years waiting for, what? What was the end goal to this, Junhui?”

“I was going to spend the rest of my life missing you, Minghao,” Junhui bites out. “I thought it was better for you if I stayed away, so I was going to, and I was going to spend every waking minute regretting it for the rest of my life. But then you released the album and I knew it was about me and I just couldn’t— I couldn’t miss you anymore. I don’t know what else to say.”

“I don’t know either,” Minghao admits. “I don’t know what you can do.”

“So, what now?” Junhui asks. He sounds so upset. “Is that it?”

“I don’t know, Junhui,” Minghao sighs. He runs a hand through his hair. “I think it might be.”

“Oh.”

“I should go,” Minghao says after a moment. “I should really go.”

“Minghao—”

Minghao hangs up. He makes sure the call has ended before he lets out some god awful wailing noise, broken down the middle. He’s broken down the middle.

Track 10: The Sun

Feel the beat in the rhythm of my steps, sometimes it's a sad song.

Minghao stays in bed. He’s been in bed for 24 hours, only dragging himself out when he has to. He cancels a studio session and ignores Seokmin’s and Mingyu’s calls when their ringtones go off. He doesn’t look at his phone otherwise. He doesn’t want to know if Junhui calls.

At the 36 hour mark, there’s a knock on his door. Minghao ignores it and hopes whoever it is will go away. He hopes Seokmin gets the message. 30 seconds pass and they knock again. 30 seconds, and another knock. They’re not going away. Minghao sighs and hauls himself out of bed. He knows he looks awful, but he can’t be assed to care.

“Seokmin,” Minghao sighs as he opens the door.

“Not Seokmin,” Junhui says with a sheepish smile. “Just me.”

“Junhui,” Minghao says quietly. “You’re in LA. You’re at my apartment.”

“Mingyu gave me your address,” Junhui says. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Minghao says after too long. He steps back to let Junhui in. “Yeah, come in.”

Junhui takes off his shoes at the door and Minghao shuts the door behind him, gesturing for Junhui to follow him and sit down on the couch with him. Junhui does.

“Um, you’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Junhui says, his cheeks bright red as Minghao stares at him. “You’re right that I didn’t fight for you. I didn’t stay, I didn’t chase after you later. I’m doing it now. I’m sorry it took me so long. I had to take care of some things.”

“You’re doing it now?” Minghao asks.

Junhui smiles. “This is me chasing after you. I talked to my team. I can do half of my time in LA right now. They’ll try to book me more gigs out here too, see if I can relocate full time. If they can’t, I’ll figure something else out.”

“Why?”

“I love you,” Junhui says softly. “I love you so much. I can’t stand being away from you, not again. I know I messed up, I know I really, really messed up, and I’m so sorry, but I’m willing to grovel. I’m willing to beg, if you’ll just give me a second chance.”

Minghao hesitates. Can he trust Junhui again? Can he trust him not to leave again?

He guesses he needs to just find out. He doesn’t think there’s another way to figure it out. Here Junhui is, laying his heart on the line, and it’s time for Minghao to do the same.

“Okay,” Minghao whispers. A slow smile spreads on Junhui’s face. “Okay, we can try again.”

Junhui pulls Minghao into a tight hug, adjusting them so Minghao is in his lap. “I love you. God, fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Minghao says softly. He moves so he can kiss Junhui, soft and sweet. It’s everything he’s missed for three years. “I love you.”

Junhui kisses him hard, cradling his face in his hands, and they’re both almost smiling too much to kiss. If they waste the day like that, giggling and kissing and whispering “I love you” back and forth, Minghao thinks they’re doing just fine.

Track 11: Sweetest Goodbye

And if it never ends, then when do we start?

They’re in their LA apartment, celebrating their six month “re-anniversary,” as Junhui has dubbed it, and they’ve been making out on the couch with both of their tongues stained with wine for what feels like hours.

Finally, Junhui undoes the button on Minghao’s jeans, tugging the zipper down so he can slip his hand down to play with Minghao’s clit, getting his fingers wet at Minghao’s cunt before he rubs them gently over his clit. They haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other the past six months, back in the honeymoon phase—not that they ever really left it the first time. 

By the time they’re undressed and Junhui is sinking into Minghao, Minghao has his head thrown back and a line of what he’s sure are dark marks down his neck. His makeup artist is going to kill him before their TV interview tomorrow.

He thinks it’s fine. He’ll take the chastisement. No one makes him feel like Junhui does, and sacrifices must be made sometimes.

“I love you,” Junhui whispers against Minghao’s mouth. “I love you, prettiest boy.”

“I love you too,” Minghao chokes out when Junhui thumbs at his clit. He comes with a long moan and Junhui pulls out to finish on his stomach, nearly collapsing into Minghao. “God. I’m going to miss you.”

“Only gone for two days this time,” Junhui says, pressing it to Minghao’s neck. “I wish you could come with me again.”

“I do miss the New York apartment,” Minghao sighs. “Next time, I’ll go with you.”

“Thank God,” Junhui laughs. “Let me clean us up. Sorry about the marks on your neck. Got carried away.”

“I’ll pass your apologies on to Darcy,” Minghao laughs. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it and won’t at all want to throttle you again.”

Junhui laughs as he stands. “Eh. I’ll take it.”

Junhui cleans Minghao up carefully and helps him back into his clothes, pulling him to his chest on the couch when he’s done.

“I actually have something to talk to you about,” Minghao says. “I want your thoughts on it.”

“Hm?”

“My label suggested that maybe moving to New York might be best for us, to be closer to our producers,” Minghao says softly. Junhui sucks in a breath. “I said I would talk to you about it. Seokmin and Mingyu are in though.”

“Do you want to, baby?” Junhui asks. “Whatever you want. You know I love New York.”

“Most of your jobs are there too, I know,” Minghao says. “I want to. I want to live with you full time and get a cat and be somewhere permanent. If that’s New York, then that’s New York.”

Junhui presses a kiss to Minghao’s temple, long and lingering. Sweet. “Then it’s New York. Then it’s you and me.”

Track 12: Sunday Morning

Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable, you twist to fit the mold that I am in.

Shrimp wakes Minghao up bright and early, chirping for breakfast.

“Why aren’t you bothering your dad?” Minghao groans. Junhui hits his shoulder, half-asleep. “Fine, fine. You’re both brats.”

Junhui blinks his eyes open. “I’ll come. Whiny.”

Minghao kisses Junhui’s cheek and laughs. “I’ll take it. Come on, my babies.”

“Coming,” Junhui groans. He hauls himself out of bed and pulls Minghao up with him, guiding him to the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee. Big day. Album release day.”

“Big day,” Minghao agrees. He opens Shrimp’s can of food and gets her bowl ready for her, setting it on the ground when she meows. He goes up behind Junhui and wraps himself around him while he makes coffee. “You’re coming to the party?”

“Of course,” Junhui says, kissing Minghao’s hand where it’s over his shoulder. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Minghao thinks of the ring that’s going to burn a hole in his pocket all of tonight before they’re in the private space that the boys helped him arrange. Nowhere else he’d rather be.