Darkness hugs the city once the sun said goodnight and disappeared to let the moon shine in its own hidden light. Clouds of silver creep up above to cover the distant stars one by one. The cold air seems to freeze the young man’s insides with each breath, as he carefully makes his way along the less crowded streets just outside of downtown. His face is almost entirely covered by the massive hood of his black parka and the dark grey scarf pulled up to his nose. Just in case, he also has a black beanie on to cover up his dyed hair. It’s not as flashy as the other colours he used to wear, actually the current medium brown is not flashy at all, but with time the young man had learned that he could never be careful enough. His small steps are precise; he wants to arrive at his destination quickly without slipping on the icy pavement. The black winter boots he wears leave footprints on the thin layer of snow which had fallen a few hours prior.

He only slows down once he reaches the entrance of a five-story building, located exactly between two streetlights emitting a cold glow. Reluctantly the man brings one gloved hand out of his pocket to press the doorbell at the top of the panel. The sign next to it says nothing but a very common last name. After a muffled crackling a slightly distorted voice sounds from the intercom, “Hello?”

The young man pulls down his scarf and puts on a girly voice, “Hello?”

Silence.

“Wh...Who is this?” the voice asks. Its owner seems nervous.

“Stop being such a paranoid and let me in. I’m freezing to death out here,” the man replies in his naturally deep voice and after a split second a buzzing allows him to enter. The stairway, light by neon tubes, is still cold and small clouds form with each breath the young man releases. He is already ridding his hands of the gloves in his pockets, but still keeps his hooded head low as he climbs up the stairs all the way to the top floor.

This time the entire name can be found beside the doorbell. No one ever goes up here but the owner of the apartment, so no discretion is needed. A long index finger with faded ballpen smudges presses down the button next to the three characters Kim Min Gyu.

The door opens after just a blink, young Mr. Kim apparently having waited right behind it. He is tall with golden skin and sharp features. His pink lips are pulled into a slight pout and strands of raven hair fall into his eyes, which try to look angry but can’t quite hide his happiness about the visitor he hasn’t seen in an abnormally long time for the two.

“Yah, Wonwoo, don’t ever do that again. I nearly got a heart attack,” he complains instead of greeting him, as he closes the door behind his guest.

“As long as you talk down to me, I will continue to use profanities,” Wonwoo says, finally dropping the hood and pulling off the beanie to reveal even sharper features than those of Mingyu and messy brown hair. When breathing in, he notices a hint of smoke in the air mixed with the familiar smell.

Mingyu rolls his eyes, “You can do that all you want, but please don’t act like a girl at the intercom ever again.”

Wonwoo struggles to open the zipper of his jacket with his frozen trembling fingers and thankfully smiles at his younger friend who helps him and also proceeds to hang it up while he pulls at the laces of his shoes enough to be able to kick them off. He walks into the apartment, light only by the television, and lets himself drop down on the side of the couch closest to the heater. His suspicion is confirmed when he sees the silhouette of an ashtray standing on the coffee table, filled almost to the rim with wrinkled stubs.

“When did you start smoking again?” Wonwoo asks when Mingyu drops down next to him. Contrary to expectation, he barely smells of cigarettes, only the cologne he had been using ever since Wonwoo got to know him.

“I didn’t ‘start’. Just...occasionally. Like always,” the younger shrugs and averts his gaze to the muted television, showing a rerun of some variety show.

“Is me coming over an occasion?” Wonwoo smirks.

“I’d be a chain smoker then,” Mingyu smiles at Wonwoo, “No, it’s just a little stressful recently.”

“I figure,” the elder states. Mingyu had scored the leading role in a drama and still did all these modelling jobs on the side.

“How’s producing going?” he asks. Wonwoo’s not quite sure about that. The last month, in which he hasn’t seen the younger, he really just worked on what he had already written, since Jihoon was going through a slump with composing. He says he wants to do something new but doesn’t know how. It’s what he tells the younger in vivid details. Usually he doesn’t talk much, but with Mingyu he’s comfortable. With Mingyu everything just falls into place.

“And I think it’s good, because you won’t have to go to the studio on top of everything to already record your parts,” he finally finishes.

Mingyu nods, having listened attentively throughout Wonwoo’s entire monologue, “I wouldn’t mind getting less sleep though, if it was for you. I miss seeing all of you.”

“You’re probably only going to see Jihoon and me while recording. It’s also gotten pretty quiet at the dorm ever since you moved out. But that’s probably just because you’re not there anymore,” Wonwoo grins.

Generally it had gotten rather quiet recently. The band promoted whenever and wherever possible for a long time and their hard work paid off, so that now, after quite a few years since their debut and numerous number one hits, they were able to relax a bit. They were taking some kind of a break now that some of the members were doing their military service. Only the maknae line was currently promoting as a sub-unit, while Seokmin starred in a musical and Junhui shot a movie in China.

“Do you even miss me?”

“Why else would I drop by whenever your schedule allows it?” Wonwoo asks rhetorically rather than anything, so he didn’t quite expect an answer from the younger.

“Free food?”

Wonwoo laughs, “Yes because you always have so many leftovers.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes.

Actually, Wonwoo missed him a lot. It felt like with Mingyu moving out in autumn it kept getting colder. At first it was alright with Wonwoo stopping by almost every day, then every few days and later only once a week until the schedules hadn’t allowed any more meetings since early December. Gradually Wonwoo felt himself losing his balance and his body icing over. He would now go out to drink with some of the members more often to feel the faked warmth inside his stomach, though he grew even more distant from gravity like that. Just when he thought he would freeze to death and fall off the edge, Mingyu finally sent him that message, telling him to come over.

Now, sitting in the younger’s living room, everything was fine. He felt like his feet were back on the ground and for the first time this month, he felt warm, hot even. At that thought he discards his knit sweater, wearing a T-shirt underneath, when his arm grazes Mingyu’s and he recoils just slightly. The taller’s skin feels like it was burning. But it had for a long time.

When Wonwoo first got to know Mingyu, he had been quite taken aback by the younger’s affection. He would constantly have his hands on other people’s bodies. Wonwoo had always had icy cold skin, so it took him some time to get used to the constantly warm skin of the taller, feeling hot against his own. After a while though, it was like he needed Mingyu’s touch to keep himself warm. He had thought about it once late at night when he was snuggled up to him at the dorm in winter. Thought about how much he liked the younger’s touch and how easy it was to be with him. And then he felt his heart skip a beat. Ever since, the younger’s skin burned him and Wonwoo was torn between wanting to be close and staying away to avoid the fluttering in his chest.

Mingyu is like the sun and Wonwoo is Mars, at constant battle with himself and living just close enough to its warmth for him not to burn and them not to collide.

“Would you mind going outside with me for a moment?” Mingyu asks after a long but comfortable silence.

“If you buy me a coffee,” Wonwoo demands and raises his eyebrows.

“Of course,” Mingyu says with a smile, switches the TV off and heads towards the tiny hallway. The taller helps Wonwoo into his jacket before putting on his own and stuffing his keys and wallet into one of the pockets. He does not hide his face like Wonwoo, but the elder is not going to question it. Mingyu is old and experienced enough to know what he needs to do.

Once they are out in the cold though, Wonwoo knows why. The younger pulls a packet of cigarettes out of his jacket. He puts a roll between his lips and reaches into his left pocket again to exchange the box with a lighter. Holding his right hand in front of it to shield it from the wind, he lights the tiny flame and with it the cigarette. Mingyu takes a breath and exhales away from Wonwoo.

“I know you hate it, but…” he starts.

“But you’re stressed. It’s fine,” Wonwoo smiles but notices the younger can’t see through his scarf, so he pulls it down a bit.

“Really?” Mingyu asks.

“Jihoon started too ever since he stresses so much about the style of our new album. I’ve gotten quite used to it.”

“But his voice!” Mingyu exclaims instead of taking another drag.

“But your voice!” Wonwoo mocks him. He may not mind as much as he used to, but he’s still not a supporter of smoking.

“I have a raspy voice to begin with and people think it’s y,” Mingyu states, now lifting the cigarette back to his lips, the tip lighting up with a red glow as he inhales.

Wonwoo chuckles to cover the fact that he thinks that there are a thousand other things he finds y about him. Like now, when the taller slightly parts his lips and slowly breathes out a white cloud of smoke and the ends of it curl in the air until they disappear. It’s like a strange paradox in Wonwoo’s head. How can something of such noxious smell and deadliness look so attractive to him?

But even more it’s the way Mingyu will look at him from the corner of his eye, a tiny smile playing at his lips whenever he catches Wonwoo staring at him.

He feels a blush creep up his already reddened cheeks as he takes a thoughtless step and falls right into Mingyu’s arms. Wonwoo laughs, “Sorry,” and quickly straightens himself again. Mingyu laughs too, small puffs of smoke escaping with the sound. By the time they reach the tiny coffee shop, the incident is forgotten and the burnt-out cigarette is left in the trash (Wonwoo insisted on Mingyu properly disposing of it). On the way back to the apartment they share the coffee, like Wonwoo knew they would, because they always have done so. He can taste traces of tobacco on the paper cup when lifting it to his lips again, but for Mingyu’s sake he ignores it. It starts to snow and the crystals melt whenever they touch skin. A snowflake gets caught in Mingyu’s lashes and he starts to blink frantically to get rid of it and that must be the most adorable thing Wonwoo has ever seen the taller do. They laugh and the coffee is emptied way too early to properly warm Wonwoo’s hands. When he complains about it, Mingyu takes one of them and interlaces their fingers. For a moment his skin is on fire and two or three of Wonwoo’s heartbeats fall out of rhythm, but it’s so easy to get used to how perfectly their hands fit each other, that he feels like the younger’s warmth is gently spreading from the tips of his fingers throughout his entire body. He doesn’t let go until the door of the apartment falls shut behind them and they take off their jackets.

Wonwoo falls back into his space on the couch, switching on the floor lamp, draping them in a dim warm light. Mingyu turns on an album of acoustic songs the elder had put together for him for his last birthday. The younger drops down next to Wonwoo, but lies down immediately, so his legs dangle over the armrest and his head is resting in the brunet’s lap. His eyes fall shut and after a short moment of shock, Wonwoo absentmindedly runs the fingers of one hand through the younger’s hair.

“I could just fall asleep like this,” Mingyu mumbles.

“If you fall asleep on me, I will kick you off the ing couch without batting an eyelash,” Wonwoo threatens. The younger’s eyes shoot open and he puts on an overly offended expression.

“Don’t insult my couch or you can sleep out in the streets tonight.”

“Your couch ,” Wonwoo smiles.

“Out!” Mingyu points towards the hallway, but starts laughing after a second.

Wonwoo chuckles, “ you.”

“I reconsidered and…” Mingyu says.

“That would require you to be able to think logically and I’m not so sure whether you can,” Wonwoo interrupts him and receives a harsh hit to his thigh for it.

“…and I don’t like it when you swear,” Mingyu finishes his sentence.

“I still don’t like you talking down to me,” Wonwoo replies, “Also that hurt.”

“Sorry,” Mingyu rubs his hand over where he just slapped the elder and closes his eyes again.

Today, Wonwoo decides, he would ignore the fluttering. The taller continuously draws one pattern over the other on the space between his head and the elder’s knee and Wonwoo’s hand finds its way back into the younger’s dark curls. Normally they feel silky, but currently they’re damaged by heat and dry from hairspray. The bags underneath the younger’s eyes are of a bluish grey beneath his honey coloured skin. Wonwoo notices how his cheekbones have become more prominent. He must have a much harder time than he admits. But he had never been one to talk about his struggles.

“Feeling especially affectionate today, hm?” he asks instead of talking about his exhausted figure.

“Kinda…” Mingyu hums.

“Don’t you have like a female lead to touch?”

“I don’t specifically like touching her,” the younger mumbles, “She doesn’t like it much either.”

“Meaning…”

“Yes, I like touching you,” he says.

“That’s not what I wanted to ask,” Wonwoo lies.

“But you like it too, right?” Mingyu’s eyes flutter open and carefully scan the elder’s face. His head bends in an ephemeral nod and he turns the corners of his mouth into a tiny smile, keeping his eyes steady on those of the younger.

“Hyung?” the taller asks after returning his gaze for a while.

“Yes?”

“I said earlier that I missed you, as in all of the members,” his eyes trail off, “but I missed you the most.”

Wonwoo’s smile grows a little wider and he knows he said it already but repeats it anyway, “I missed you too.”

“Let’s not be apart for so long again from now, okay?” Mingyu’s dark orbs meet with those of the older again and he reaches for one of his hands, pressing it against his chest. He looks almost desperate, fragile even.

“Never again,” the elder replies, squeezing his hand slightly and Mingyu relaxes a bit.

“Because I couldn’t have continued like that for much longer,” he says, “I can’t live without you.”

Wonwoo nods, incapable of voicing his own thoughts. His vision goes cloudy; overcome with emotion and lets his head fall back to the top of the backrest. Slowly the tears subside from his eyes, “It was a hard month for the both of us.”

“Hyung?” the weight is lifted from Wonwoo’s thighs and the couch drops a bit beside him.

“Yes?” he tilts his head forward again and looks at Mingyu, sitting on one of his own long legs, the other dropping down the side of the couch. The younger looks at his hands folded in his lap and bites his lower lip.

“Please don’t get mad,” he says but before Wonwoo can ask about what, Mingyu meets his lips for a light peck. In the fraction of a second he is seated like before. The elder looks at him with big eyes. He can still feel the warm touch lingering on his lips. His heart is somersaulting inside his chest.

“I’m not,” he replies in nothing more than a whisper and leans forward for another kiss. He carefully moves his cold lips against those of the younger, still afraid of burning. Wonwoo pulls back just slightly after a few moments of bliss only to be pulled back in by Mingyu. The younger scoots closer to him, his warm hands cupping Wonwoo’s cheeks. He wants to melt into his touch, merge together so he will never let go. His hands clutch to Mingyu’s shirt, pulling him closer. For a moment they part and the taller gracefully settles down in his lap, long legs bent and pressed to the outside of Wonwoo’s thighs.

The elder admires the angelic figure hovering above him and runs his fingers, carefully, over the sides of his body. Mingyu’s hooded eyes are focused on his own and the corners of his delicate mouth curl into a content smile.

“You’re beautiful,” Wonwoo breathes and Mingyu leans closer to him, his lips brushing against his skin when he mumbles his reply into the elder’s ear, “But not even close to how beautiful you are.”

Wonwoo feels himself blushing and when the younger sees it, he peppers his cheeks with tiny kisses before his lips fall back to meet those of Wonwoo’s. He feels the other’s tongue tracing his bottom lip and hesitantly allows his own to part and let the other explore his mouth. He tastes of coffee and traces of ash and the bitter taste is in perfect contrast with the sweet caressing of hot fingers against his arms. Wonwoo knows he is not the best kisser and wants to distract the younger by gradually sliding his hands beneath his shirt and smoothing along the heated skin of his back, which has him arching closer into the elder’s chest and goosebumps rising across his body.

The shift of weight has Mingyu’s groin pressing against his own and a minuscule moan escapes Wonwoo’s lips. He abashes at this, remembering that this was his best friend making him feel like this. He freezes over.

Mingyu moves back by barely an inch, his breath ghosting over Wonwoo’s skin and his lips moving close enough for the elder to feel their warmth. “Don’t worry,” the taller chuckles lightly, his eyes emitting the same heat as his skin, “I want you too.”

Wonwoo’s hands lie softly in the nape of his neck as the younger kisses his way down to his collar bones and he releases small sounds of approval at tongue running over skin and hips pressing closer. Mingyu’s hands tuck at the hem of his T-shirt and when Wonwoo lets him pull it off, he disposes his own right after. Their bodies connect again and Mingyu’s arms slide around the small of the elder’s back, gently leading him to lie on the couch. He shivers at the changes in temperature, feeling hot, where Mingyu touches and cold the moment his hands and mouth move to find another spot to melt. One by one they lose another part of their cover until there is nothing left but their bare forms. Wonwoo is shaken up by earthquakes. And with each touch, each momentum of bliss, each look he shares with Mingyu he feels himself closer to falling apart.

Wonwoo is Mars, at constant battle with himself and Mingyu’s sun is a neutron star, pulling him closer into his gravity until they collide. Everything shutters and they blend into one.

“Can’t you stay?” Mingyu asks, as he brushes away single strands of hair sticking to the elder’s forehead. Their legs are entangled and they share the little space they have, so no one drops over the edge.

“Why would I go now, silly?” Wonwoo smiles and presses a soft kiss to the younger’s cheek.

“No. I mean forever.”

“Forever is an alluringly long time.”

“So will you?” Mingyu mindlessly draws invisible shapes on Wonwoo’s chest.

“Do what exactly?”

“Move in with me?” His hand lies flat as he looks at the elder with big eyes.

“I’d love to,” Wonwoo smiles widely, “Why haven’t you asked earlier?”

“I forgot…” and the both of them laugh.

Their figment of shared warmth and loving caresses must be Wonwoo’s favourite place in the world; their bubble filled with unspoken thoughts that are understood between their gazes and he thinks he has never been this content.

“I love you,” Wonwoo whispers, his fingers running across the other’s skin.

“Can you say that again?” Mingyu asks and looks down at Wonwoo in his arms.

“I love you. I have for longer than you know.” And he means it.

“I love you too,” the taller says. And he means it too.

AN: So, hi there. I know, I didn't update on Rubber Soul, but instead, have this wonderful future-set Meanie oneshot. Yaaaay. I literally typed 2.500 words of this in just one night/5 hours and that was the most productive I have been in years. I was just so inspired to write this. By the way, as those of you who read Rubber Soul may know, this is based off of this little passage, that is now the description, which just kind of happened when writing that chapter and then I did a bit of research on what actually happens when a planet and sun collide (and only found one about a collision with a neutron star, so the references are not entirely astronomically correct, sorry) and it was really inspiring and yeah then I listened to Snow Patrol's "The Planets Bend Between Us" a lot and then this story happened. 

Also a very special thanks to Katiryna my beta-reader for this. Thanks to her there are numerous less mistakes with tenses and comprehension. Thank you ♥

And also thank you for reading ♥