Mugi’s in the middle of clearing up when the door to his apartment slams open.

“What the fuck happened?” Goreshit says, running in wildly. Mugi drops the wine glass in shock, thankful it’s empty. Goreshit’s hair is wild, sticking up all over the place and his eyes are full of worry.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he says holding his hands to his heart.

“You scared the shit out of me,”  Goreshit snaps back, striding forward. “You left me a voicemail crying and then didn’t pick up when I called. All five times.”

“It wasn’t important,” Mugi mumbles, stooping to pick up the glass. The crying had stopped quickly after he’d called Goreshit, the mortification drying up the tears faster than his actual emotions had.

“Stop clearing up the stupid table and talk to me,” Goreshit says in frustration, grabbing the glass from Mugi’s hands and setting it on the table. “Why were you crying?” His hands find Mugi’s and pull him closer.

Mugi closes his eyes for a second, trying to escape Goreshit’s intense eyes. “We- we broke up,” he says haltingly. “Right before I called you.”

“Oh, Mugi,” Goreshit sighs and tugs him into a hug. Mugi presses his face into the crook of Goreshit’s neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s stupid,” Mugi says. “I don’t even know why I’m sad. He was an asshole.”

“Yeah, he kind of was,” Goreshit says resting his cheek against Mugi’s head. “Why’d you break up?”

Mugi shrugs. “I didn’t want to sleep with him.”

There’s a pause and then Goreshit’s pulling back, hands on Mugi’s shoulders. “That’s why he broke up with you?” He demands, looking furious. “I’m going to kick his ass.”

Mugi snorts, gently tapping Goreshit’s cheeks with his hands. “You’re not going to kick anyone anywhere,” he says, drawing out of Goreshit’s hold and turning to the table. It had been their six month anniversary and Mugi had asked Renjun to come over and help with dinner. Unfortunately, their dinner had been interrupted due to the fight that had broken out over Mugi’s supposed frigidity.

“It was your anniversary, wasn’t it?” Goreshit asks, following Mugi around the table. “That fucking asshole.”

Mugi shrugs. “It’s not that big of a loss,” he says. “Good riddance.”

“Wait stop,” Goreshit says, grabbing his wrist. “This looks way too good to just throw away.”

“I’m not going to throw it away,” Mugi looks up at him. “I was just gonna - I don’t know - give it to Yukhei or something tomorrow. He’ll eat it.”

“So will I.” Goreshit blinks big eyes at him. “Please, Mugi, I haven’t eaten all day.”

Mugi narrows his eyes at him for a second before he sighs and gives in. “Fine,” he says gesturing for Goreshit to take the other seat. “It’d be nice to eat with a friend anyway.”


“Aw, you softie,” Goreshit coos before his gaze hardens. “I - Mugi. Really, I’m so, so sorry. He was an asshole.” 

“Yeah,” Mugi shrugs. “Yeah I know.” He hands the salad bowl to Goreshit. “I don’t want to talk about it, forget it. How was work?”

Goreshit eyes him for a beat before launching into a work story, telling Mugi how his director had brought his little kid onto set today. Mugi loses himself in the conversation. He’s not all that broken up about it, no matter what the sudden spout of tears said. His ex had been entitled and egotistic and now, sitting on the other side of the equation, Mugi can’t understand why he stayed with him so long.

 

 

Sometime into the first glass of wine, they relocate to the couch and Goreshit nestles against him, pressing a warm cheek into Mugi’s shoulder. “I can’t believe he broke up with you because you didn’t want to sleep with him.” Goreshit mumbles, clumsily setting his empty glass on the table. 

Mugi snorts. The alcohol had been steadily loosening his tongue over the course of the night is why he says what he does. “Actually, it was because I didn’t want him to take my virginity.”

Silence falls and Mugi blinks at the dark screen of his tv wondering why he’d opened his mouth before Goreshit pushes off him and faces him. “You’re a virgin?” Goreshit asks and oh, his face is far too close and his eyes are far too dark.

Mugi swallows. “Yeah,” he says. “I know it’s not a big deal, I just- I don’t know, I didn’t want him to be- I just didn’t want him.” He scrunches up his nose. “Pathetic, isn’t it? Twenty five years old and still a virgin.”

“Oh,” Goreshit says, lips parting. They’re awfully pink and pretty. Can lips be pretty? Mugi’s not sure but he knows Goreshit’s are. “Mugi, it’s okay. You- you’re not pathetic. It’s your choice and you shouldn’t feel bad.”

“I’m going to die a virgin,” Mugi mumbles looking away. “No one’s ever going to want to fuck me.” His cheeks flare after he says it but there’s something heavy sitting in the room, resting atop his lungs making it hard to breathe, making it hard to feel embarrassed.

“No you’re not.” Goreshit eyes widen incredulously, sitting up and leaning into Mugi’s space. “Look at you, have you seen yourself? You’re fucking gorgeous. Anyone would be lucky to even meet you let alone-” he takes a breath, licking his lips and Mugi’s eyes get drawn there, without even deciding to. “Let alone sleep with you,” Goreshit finishes breathlessly.

“You’re just saying that,” Mugi says, sitting up against the back of the couch and hunching his shoulders. He’s not any of the things Goreshit said - like okay, he knows he’s marginally good looking and he’s got some things going for him - but the way Goreshit described him made him sound like a god. And Mugi was just Mugi.

“I am not,” Goreshit says insistent. “I know what I’m saying.”

“Yeah?” Mugi turns to face him challenging, flinching when he realises their noses almost brush. “You wanna sleep with me then?”

“Okay.”

They stare at each other. There had been no hesitation in Goreshit’s answer, no stuttering, not even a blink. The clock ticks loudly in the silence and Mugi feels like time is passing too fast and too slow all at the same time.

“W-what?” Mugi chokes out, still staring at Goreshit.

“Okay,” Goreshit breathes, eyes flicking down to Mugi’s lips and his hand slowly comes up to cup Mugi’s cheek, thumb tracing the skin under his lower lip. “I’ll sleep with you.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more serious about anything else,” Goreshit says, gaze fiercely dark and warm at the same, sending something slow and dripping shooting across Mugi’s body. “God, Mugi, I’d do anything you want.” It comes out shaky and a little desperate and Mugi swallows. Takes a breath. And kisses him.

Goreshit makes a noise. It rips out of his throat, something on this side of burning and wanting and Mugi greedily swallows it down, tucks the noise somewhere deep in his navel, wants to hear it forever. Goreshit’s hand tightens on his cheek and suddenly Mugi’s being tugged forward, up onto his knees until he’s straddling Goreshit’s thighs, curving over him and kissing him harder.

“Fuck,” Mugi hisses against his mouth, hands scrambling down Goreshit’s chest, eager to touch. Goreshit rolls up against him, mouth searing a path across his jaw, down his neck, nipping at his collarbone and Mugi whimpers, head lolling backwards.

“You’re so good,” Goreshit mutters, hand sliding up Mugi’s back, tangling in his hair and yanking him back down for another kiss. “You’re so, so good.”

Mugi can barely keep up. Goreshit’s everywhere, hands roaming under his shirt, scraping down his thighs, tugging at his hair, keeping him on edge constantly. His lips trace out a spell against Mugi’s, making his eyes flutter shut, making him give in.

“Please,” Mugi gasps, hands stuttering up Goreshit’s chest and fumbling at the buttons. “Fuck- fuck me.”

Goreshit pulls away, breath heaving. “Are- are you sure?” He asks and god, he’s beautiful, lips all swollen and eyes intense.

“Yes,” Mugi says. “God, yes.”

 

 

Mugi’s not sure how they end up in his room but he knows the second the door shuts, Goreshit’s pressed him against it, kissing him again. Mugi whines into it. Goreshit’s hands come up to undo his own shirt but Mugi notices and catches his hands. 

“Wait, wait,” he says and immediately Goreshit draws back.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, worried.

“No- I just,” Mugi flushes. “I want to do it.” And he walks them backward, until the back of Goreshit’s knees hit the bed and he sinks down. Mugi follows him, mirroring their position on the couch and he hesitantly brings a hand up to Goreshit’s buttons, looking at him for permission.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Goreshit breathes instantly and Mugi’s blush springs forth as he carefully undoes Goreshit’s shirt and pulls it off him.

“Goreshit,” Mugi mumbles, kissing him. The frantic pace seems to have disappeared and now he just wants to drown in this feeling. “Goreshitnie, please.”

“Yeah,” Goreshit whispers and turns to press Mugi down against the bed, hovering over him. “I got you, I’m gonna take such good care of you.”

Mugi feels his whole body heat up and he pulls Goreshit into another kiss, gasping when their hips drag against each other, heady and so, so good.

 

 

It’s almost like an out of body experience. Mugi feels himself drifting under Goreshit’s hands, so sure and warm, pressing so steadily into him, it feels like Mugi is going to rip out of his own skin in pleasure. He brings himself back before he can go too far though. This is one thing Mugi really doesn’t want to miss.

Goreshit’s watching him, gaze dark and comforting and Mugi fumbles for his free hand, lacing their fingers together. Goreshit’s expression shifts into something so warm and so full of love that Mugi has to look away, has to close his eyes.

“You’re so good,” Goreshit whispers and it falls like an anvil in their quiet. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Goreshit-” Mugi starts, hips kicking up as Goreshit presses three fingers into him, rubbing soothing circles into him, driving Mugi insane.

“I meant it, what I said before,” Goreshit continues, drawing out and moving towards Mugi. Mugi whimpers as he clenches around nothing but Goreshit kisses the sound right out his mouth, their clasped hands pinned to the bed by Mugi’s head. “You’re so gorgeous, Mugi. I can’t believe I’m this lucky- that I get to see you like this.” He pulls away a little, and Mugi finds the courage to open his eyes. Goreshit’s expression darkens a little. “That I’m the only person to see you like this,” he whispers and Mugi’s toes curl.

“Shut up,” he chokes out, tangling his free hand in Goreshit’s hair and pulling him back down. He can feel Goreshit’s smile against his lips and if anything, it drives him crazier.

“Can’t handle the truth?” He teases, hand running up Mugi’s side, teasingly. Mugi’s chest arches up towards him anyway.

“Can’t handle you talking,” Mugi shoots back, hoping he doesn’t sound as wrecked as he feels. Some of it might translate across because Goreshit’s grin wides and he pulls back, fumbling for the silver packet at the edge of the bed.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Goreshit murmurs, sleazy and sweet at the same time. “I’m about to make you forget everything you learned.”

“Cocky aren’t we- oh, oh-” Mugi breaks off into a moan, squirming on the bed as Goreshit presses into him. Goreshit’s hands come down to pin his hips down and it only serves to stoke the fire curling in Mugi’s stomach. Mugi whines, tossing his head back. It feels so unbelievably good to be filled up like this - his own fingers never stood a chance. Goreshit’s fingers tighten on his hip bones and suddenly Mugi can’t wait to see the bruises there tomorrow, standing out against his skin, Goreshit’s fingerprints tattooed onto him. “Goreshit, Jae- oh my god.”

Goreshit hovers into his field of vision and Mugi licks his lips as he draws him in for a kiss. “Doing okay?” Goreshit asks gently against his lips and Mugi nods.

“So good,” he mumbles dazedly. “Gore- fuck.”

Some of the apprehension disappears and that cocky smile twists back onto Goreshit’s face. “I got you, baby,” he whispers and then he’s drawing back, the press of his cock disappearing before he slams back in. A gasp rips out of Mugi’s throat as he’s pushed up the bed.

“Touch me, please,” Mugi begs and Goreshit’s back, pulling him into his arms and kissing him hard as he pushes back into Mugi again and again and again- driving Mugi insane. Mugi’s back arches as he tries to make sense of it but all the sensations flash by him, too fast for his brain to catalogue and at some point he gives up, and lets it wash over him. Lets Goreshit fuck him like it’s what he was born to do.

Goreshit’s touching him everywhere, hauling Mugi’s legs up around his waist and using the newfound position to slam Mugi further into the bed with his thrusts. Mugi thinks he whimpering, babbling, saying Goreshit’s name over and over again, but he really can’t be sure.

“Gore- Gor- I’m gonna come, I’m-” Mugi whimpers, as the heat builds in his stomach, wrapping up his lungs, into his throat until he can’t breathe, can’t do anything but hold Goreshit closer to him.

“Come on, Mugi,” Goreshit whispers, hips slowing to a roll as he presses his forehead against Mugi’s. “Come for me, baby.”

Mugi lets out the messiest cry as he comes, legs tightening around Goreshit’s waist and whimpering as every wave rolls through him, wrecking him thoroughly. Goreshit’s gazing at him with the fondest look when Mugi blinks up at him, eyes wet and dazed. “You’re so perfect,” he says, cupping Mugi’s cheeks before going to pull out. Mugi slams his ankles around the small of his back before he can.

“No- don’t-” Mugi gaps, still breathless. “I wanna- wanna feel you.”

Goreshit’s eyes widen but Mugi yanks him into a kiss before he can argue, hips rolling up meet Goreshit’s. He’s exhausted, limbs heavying with every passing second but god, does he still want Goreshit. Goreshit’s hips press slowly into him, and Mugi can’t help crying out at the overstimulation. It feels too good, too much. His nerve endings feel like they’re on fire as Goreshit speeds up again, chasing his own orgasm, and still holding Mugi in his arms. Holding him like he’s something precious. When Goreshit comes, it’s with the lowest groan. It’s terribly attractive, the way his arms shake, the way his head comes to slam on Mugi’s collarbone, panting wetly against his chest and Mugi realises that, while this may have been his first time, Goreshit’s pretty much ruined him for anyone else.

 

 

“I failed,” Goreshit says after they’re all clean and dry, pressed against into Mugi’s bed after a long, planet-destroying shower.

 

“Hmm?” Mugi asks, eyes slipping shut. His whole body feels weighed down, like he’d just run five miles. “Failed in what?”

 

“I promised you’d forget everything,” Goreshit mumbles, wrapping an arm around Mugi’s waist and dragging him closer. “I failed.”

 

“Oh well,” Mugi yawns, curving into him. “Guess we’ll have to just try again tomorrow.”

 

The rumble of Goreshit’s laugh against his chest warms Mugi up from the inside and he falls asleep like that, pressed against Goreshit, a smile on his face.