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There could be one hundred men in matching suits in a room, and Yunho would be able to pick out Mingi in seconds. He could be drowning after their plane crashes in a storm, and though Yunho is able-bodied and unburdened, he would risk everything to gather Mingi, soaked and weighed down with trinkets, into his arms to carry him to the ocean’s surface.
There are over two hundred bones in the human body. Twenty-six of them are in the human foot. Yunho feels like he’d recognize all fifty-two bones in Mingi’s feet if an x-ray were placed before him. He has seen Mingi’s body in various states of undress. He has listened to Mingi’s voice in multiple degrees of distress. Yunho is a watcher. He’s a knower. He remembers every inch of Mingi.
He thinks he’ll remember Mingi even as he ages, and his memories turn to stardust.
Clouds of cool curiosity choke Yunho when Mingi walks out of the hotel bathroom. He looks shy, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel confident. He’s close to naked. Yunho knows there’s nothing under Mingi’s robe, but that’s not the leading lady in this stageplay.
At the ends of Mingi’s legs, muscled and hard as they are, sit two different styles of shoe.
His right foot is sitting snugly in a Pierra Patent Floral Mary Jane Pump by Karl Lagerfeld. It’s a thicker heel and a wider toe, but its elegance is unmatched. Coming in at close to two hundred dollars when you add on tax. With Mingi’s slim foot wedged inside of it, it’s priceless.
Yunho is supposed to stay seated in the chair in the corner of the hotel room, but it’s not an easy task. The sight of such sharp, slender bone swathed in pale, hairless flesh pushed into a cushioned husk of patented synthetic gloss. How can Yunho sit still?
His fingers dig into the arms of the chain he’s expected to stay seated in.
Taking a deep breath, Yunho forces himself to let his eyes drift to Mingi’s other foot.
His breathing gets louder.
Now, this. This is something spectacular. They must be handmade. There’s no way Mingi would have been able to find a shoe like this in his size, at least not on such short notice. Having friends in the fashion industry certainly comes in handy during dire times.
Yunho wonders what Mingi said to achieve something as fantastic as this in such a short amount of time.
“Beautiful.”
The word sits on a cloud of reverence. Yunho wants to look up to see Mingi’s face, but he can’t seem to pull his eyes away from his new contender for best in show.
Black Satin Embellished Pumps. Manolos, if Yunho’s mind is working well enough to recognize the craftsmanship. Around Mingi’s ankle, a sparkling embellished cuff shimmering with diamond and silver. A stiletto heel forces Mingi’s calf into a stiff line, straight as an arrow.
A familiar feeling overwhelms Yunho, then. It happens almost every time Mingi affords Yunho this one simple pleasure.
“The Manolos, then?” Mingi asks, his voice low but pleasant. There’s almost a teasing quality to it, but Yunho knows that he doesn’t mean any harm. If anything, Mingi loves the attention. Yunho sometimes wonders if Mingi would give in to just about any whim Yunho has just so he can be lavished with undivided attention like this.
Yunho’s eyes finally manage to snap up to Mingi’s face. “If that’s okay with you?”
He’s not sure why he sounds so fragile now. They’ve come this far. What kind of man is Yunho? He sounds like he’s going to cry over a pair of pretty heels.
“It’s more than okay,” Mingi replies quickly.
Disappearing into the bathroom again, Mingi is gone in the blink of an eye.
Yunho loosens his tie. He’s unsure why Mingi wants him to wear full suits when they play like this, but God, if it isn’t hot as hell in this hotel room.
He counts down from thirty, hoping it will keep his head on straight. He’s gotten down to seventeen when Mingi emerges from the bathroom in two matching heels and a smile like he could conquer the world.
“C’mere,” Yunho somehow manages to whisper.
It’s all the direction Mingi needs. He’s confident in his walk across the room. It’s been years since his first pair of heels. Not a shred of the baby deer Yunho first witnessed when Mingi initially agreed to be his little mannequin all those years ago.
When Mingi is close enough, Yunho tugs him forward by the belt of his robe and pushes his face into the fabric covering his stomach. His arms wrap around Mingi’s back to keep him close.
He doesn’t have to keep him close. Yunho knows Mingi will stay as close as he’s asked to stay.
It doesn’t help Yunho feel any less possessive of his doll in all his glory.
“How are you feeling?” Mingi asks. His voice is soft but clinical. He knows how overwhelming this can get for Yunho. It’s honestly endearing how quickly Mingi can switch personas on and off for Yunho’s sake. “Still good?”
Yunho rubs his face against Mingi’s stomach again before leaning back to stare up at him. “I’m great. How about you?”
“Perfect,” Mingi smiles down at him. It’s a goofy smile. Yunho loves how Mingi can’t manage to fall entirely into any one scene. He’s just too Mingi. "Now, scoot forward.”
When Yunho chooses hotel rooms for these activities, he always ensures the furniture is big enough for two big men to enjoy comfortably. Scooting forward, he waits for Mingi to slide in behind him. It takes a few seconds of awkward squirming, but finally, Mingi gets into position.
A raw rush of emotion pours into Yunho when he feels just how excited Mingi is against his back. Swallowing hard, he reaches down to pull Mingi’s legs around him until his heeled feet are clacking together in Yunho’s lap.
Hot breath traces the shell of Yunho’s ear. He leans back into Mingi’s warm chest and begins to trace the intricate detailing of the heels and Mingi’s strong feet. There’s truly nothing like them. Yunho has found that he’ll be able to get off to Mingi’s feet in just about everything. From Jordans to Chucks to Louboutins—Mingi wears all of them just right.
His breath leaves him in a hot rush, more a shaky moan than anything. While one of his hands tightens around Mingi’s slim ankle, his other hand zips down his pants.
While Yunho stokes himself to full hardness, he feels Mingi’s hips moving against him, all eight inches of him hard and sticky against the smooth silk of Yunho’s fitted suit.
“You like?” Mingi’s low rumble reaches through Yunho’s suit jacket and straight into his chest to squeeze his lungs.
“I love,” Yunho whispers, his voice a breath in the wind.
Careful of the sharp embellishments on the heels, Yunho drags the head of his cock all along Mingi’s exposed foot in its decadent sheathing. The skin is hot and smooth, sharp-edged but soft enough to cushion Yunho’s damp caress.
Feeling Mingi like this, so overwhelmed with lust that he can’t keep himself from rutting against Yunho, makes the experience almost transcendental. It’s hard for Yunho to keep his head on straight. His hips are moving now, too, and he is rolling up to grind against the thin skin just under the bump in Mingi’s ankle, which indicates the bottom of his tibia.
This is an area that always drives Yunho wild. It’s just barely accessible due to the rough cuff that is surely digging into Mingi’s ankle at this moment. In a move of self-centered altruism, he loosens the cuff enough to slip his cock between the satin band and Mingi’s chafed flesh.
His head falls back onto Mingi’s hard shoulder, a loud gasp escaping him from the unexpected rush of pleasure that floods him. It’s a little awkward and not completely smooth, but the dry rub of skin and fabric against his most sensitive part has him feeling something that words can’t accurately describe.
He keeps humping into the space, the skin of Mingi’s ankle getting more wet with each thrust of Yunho’s slick dick. Yunho can’t hold in his moans now. It’s all rising inside of him. Hours of love. Moments of desire. Years of Mingi’s tender love and care. His kind eyes. His sweet words.
Love and sex and lifetimes of unending devotion culminate in an explosion of lust all over Mingi’s ankle and calf.
Mingi peppers Yunho’s neck and head with firm kisses, sweet words, and proud rumblings. He gives up on his own pleasure to cradle Yunho in his arms, big hands drawing pictures in the clothed planes of Yunho’s chest.
He whispers gratitude. He whispers love and longing.
Yunho takes each whispered word deep inside of him and holds it there like oxygen in his lungs. When he exhales, it’s to send all of those same platitudes back in Mingi’s direction. Loud and satisfied, simple and as human as it gets.
Yes, Yunho could recognize every inch of Mingi in a crowded room. Each bone in his body seems crafted to be detected by Yunho’s sharp eyes.
And Mingi would deserve each second of Yunho’s undivided attention. Just like now. Just like he always has, from the moment they first saw each other until their eyes can no longer work to see.