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“Give me the oreo, hyung.”

Mingyu narrows his eyes at Wonwoo, a sharp warning in his gaze, but all the other boy does is grin and curl up in the corner of the couch. He holds an oreo teasingly in the air and pries it apart, pressing the half with the cream against his lips.

“I don’t think so,” Wonwoo says cheerfully.

This isn’t fair, Mingyu thinks, viciously visualizing a target on Wonwoo’s forehead. They have had this system, this unspoken rule for years trailing way back into trainee days. Wonwoo eats the cookie part of the oreo, Mingyu eats the cream. Everyone is satisfied.

Of course, Wonwoo just has to decide today of all days that he wants to hog all the oreos to himself. Mingyu sits back on the sofa, running a hand through his hair and frowning. It’s been a bad enough day, what with screwing up at dance practice and recording. He knows the oreos would make his sore throat worse, but frankly, Mingyu is beyond caring right now.

“What happened to sharing, huh?” Mingyu says huffily. He reaches out to grab at Wonwoo’s hand, but he moves away, stretching backwards before popping the entire oreo into his mouth. Mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh. There are some days that he finds Wonwoo’s childish tendencies adorable, and other days where he just wants to poke his eyes out with a pencil.

(Though this largely isn’t true, Mingyu finds Wonwoo adorable no matter what.)

Mingyu turns back to the almost-finished box of oreos on the coffee table, but Wonwoo is even faster, and he snatches the last cookie out of it before Mingyu even has time to blink. There’s a challenge in the subtle curve of Wonwoo’s lips, and the older boy smiles saccharinely at his disgruntled friend.

“If you want it, you’ll have to come and get it,” he singsongs, a soft lilt to his voice. His smile matches his tone perfectly, all soft edges and bright teeth, and Mingyu really hates how his heart betrays him so easily by hammering in short, rhythmic beats.

Wonwoo’s shirt is loose on him, worn from use. The frayed hem has been drawn up to reveal a small stretch of pale skin, courtesy of his efforts to keep Mingyu away from the cookies earlier. Wonwoo doesn’t notice it, but Mingyu definitely does, and he fights hard to keep the rapidly appearing blush down. He takes a deep breath.

It’s been three years, three long years of yearning, unspoken words and fleeting touches, but Mingyu still hasn’t come to terms with his feelings for Wonwoo yet. Of course, he tries to ignore the heaviness that settles at the bottom of his stomach whenever Wonwoo’s warm smile is directed at someone else, or whenever Wonwoo drapes himself over someone else’s shoulders in friendly affection, but it’s difficult.

It’s difficult not to hope when Wonwoo sits in Mingyu’s lap for hours on end (for resting purposes, Wonwoo claims, because Mingyu is apparently squishy like a pillow.)

It’s difficult not to hope when Wonwoo routinely fixes Mingyu’s hair with his tongue stuck out in concentration to make it prettier for the camera. (Mingyu lets him even though he's better at styling, just because Wonwoo tries with the utmost sincerity.)

It’s difficult to repeatedly swallow the confession that hangs on the tip of Mingyu’s tongue, just because he doesn’t want to risk their friendship, even though it kills him inside to have Wonwoo constantly slipping through his fingers like flowing water.

It’s difficult to spend time together and not want more, because Mingyu is desperately in love with his best friend and all he wants to do is to hold Wonwoo in his arms, and whisper sweet words against his lips.

It’s difficult, but Mingyu has to do it.

Mingyu reaches out again for the cookie but Wonwoo shifts away, falling over himself with laughter at the corner of the couch.

Wonwoo sticks out his tongue, adorable in his mischief, and Mingyu forces down the dull ache of his heart for yet another day.

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a/n: short, angsty drabble because midyears are in two weeks, i am super stressed and i have no self-preservation. thanks for reading, leave your thoughts behind if you enjoyed it! ♡