dream a little dream of me ; seventeen oneshots

ix. t-shirt [meanie]

638 words - rating: general - warnings: none

Mingyu's eyes follow the route of the streaks, the early morning sun that dances amongst a swarm of dust that floats down through the narrow slits of blinds and falls upon the pale skin of Wonwoo's still, sleeping body.

It's beautiful, Mingyu thinks - the way the Wonwoo's chest, falling and rising rhythmically, merges with the stripes of golden light, how the lines distort and bend and fall over the curves of his arms, minuscule hairs standing up as Mingyu delicately runs his index finger down the vein prominent arm. It's beautiful how, despite a disturbance, Wonwoo's slumber is interrupted with only a soft sigh, a groan breathed through his nose as his body shudders under Mingyu's touch; how his reflex is to pull the blanket further to chin to save himself from a chill that wasn't really there.

Mingyu's fond of him enough to have the internal debate whether or not to wake the sleeping soundly - Mingyu's lips are parched and need to be quenched by the sweet, savoring taste of Wonwoo's pair, but on the other hand, it'd be selfish to wake such a beautiful boy from his well-needed sleep for a few pecks to satisfy him. He spends time, maybe more than he'd care to mention, imagining the way the soft, plump, opulent pair of lips work with in tandem with his, be it for a gentle or a passionate kiss. So much time he wastes, (though it's no really wasted when it's Wonwoo) that he's finally met with a semi-aware Wonwoo rolling over with the rustle on in the sheets to face him too.

"It's creepy when you watch me while I sleep," he says, stifling a yawn and stretching his stiff body. His shirt rides up as he arches his back, and Mingyu covers almost being caught staring at the white slither of skin with a scoff.

"I wasn't watching you," he argues, throat croaky which he clears with a cough. "My eyes happened to fall on you and I just had to stop and marvel at your beauty."

Wonwoo groans and shuffles around again, turning so his back was to Mingyu in a rebellious act of disgust. "Stop being so gross."

Grinning wide, Mingyu leans over the smaller frame and places an impudent kiss on Wonwoo's cheek. "Good morning to you too."

His hand falls on Wonwoo's shoulder, flat against the gray material of the shirt he sleeps in - which, come to think of, looks rather large on the boy. It takes Mingyu a moment to registerー either due to the lack of coherency his brain portrays in the early morning or his general deficiency of awareness altogether ーthat the familiar pattern and the fact it falls to Wonwoo's thighs is indication that the shirt belongs originally to him.

"Hey," he begins as Wonwoo looks over, rubbing the sleep crust from his eye. "That's my shirt."

Wonwoo looks down at the material draping over his body - it really was large on him. "So it is," he replies with nonchalance.

"Well...Give it back."

Wonwoo frowns. "No."

"Why not?"

Shifting again to face Mingyu, Wonwoo protests. "I'm comfortable." Picking the fluff off Mingyu's own shirt, he adds, "Plus, it's not like you were using it."

"Still..." Mingyu pouts, an act which is often condemned, yet sometimes adored by Wonwoo. "Ask before stealing my clothes."

Wonwoo grunts and leans in closer to Mingyu, which causes the breath to catch in the latter's throat. "Stop pouting, you big baby." Softly, he places a chaste kiss to Mingyu's lips, quickly, like he was trying to commit the attack without being noticed. "And I look cute in it."

Mingyu's filled with tenderness, a warmth that fills his chest as he smiles, chuckles and wraps Wonwoo's body in his wide arms. A hand inconspicuously rests against his thigh, that delicately massages the milky skin. "You know, I hate it when you're right."