Archive of Our Own ^beta

Okay, look. Mingi knows he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Far from it, honestly, but he still feels like he’s a little smart. He does, after all, have a degree in biology (though it’s a bit useless so he’s resorted to teaching a dance class and being a librarian), so he thinks he’s somewhere on the ‘intelligent’ spectrum. He never got the best grades in school, but he went to SNU, so he doubts he’s stupid or anything. And, well, for what he lacks in smarts he’s sure he makes up in . . . height? Mingi is definitely tall for an Asian guy. He’s 183 centimeters to be exact, so that’s pretty good. The average Korean man is 175.5 centimeters tall, so Mingi’s above average, isn’t he? He’s tall. His boyfriends (the few he’s managed to keep for longer than a few dates) tend to like it. It seems to be a bit of a turn-off, though, when he tells them he prefers to be the little spoon. And he’s a bit of a scaredy-cat. And he’s not nearly as intimidating as he seems. And he falls in love way too easily. 

How does Mingi know that drives people away? Well, first of all, he once almost popped the ‘L’ word on one of his dates (it was the second time they’d gone out for context), the guy had promised to text Mingi as he’d left. Mingi had gone to the campus library and found him making out with someone else on one of the bookshelves. 

But, honestly, that’s really not the worst of it. Mingi’s been dumped by his dates plenty of times. The worst thing, though, is when they stay and Mingi grows happy enough to invite them home for some “Netflix and chill”. 

He’s grown used to waking up alone. Mingi’s “boyfriends” are more like very elaborate hook-ups. And look, Mingi knows he’s got some pretty good assets. He’s tall, his thighs are thick (thanks to the gym and Seonghwa dragging him out whenever his depression starts acting up), his ass is pretty nice, especially for a man, and he’s got nice lips. Mingi knows he’s (somewhat, somewhat) attractive. So why do all of his dates only ever want to sleep with him?

Mingi’s psychologist, Yeosang, looks up from his clipboard and adjusts his glasses. 

“Why didn’t you lead with the ‘all of my dates only want to fuck me’?” he says. 

Mingi shrugs. 

“The buildup, man,” he says. He sighs and flops back onto the plush couch. Yeosang arches a very skeptical eyebrow. “I mean, like, last week I tried going backwards by, you know, sleeping with the guy first. Damn, it was a good night. So I gave him my number, you know, in case he was interested too and then he just. Didn’t call. Like, it’s been a week. Was it really that shitty? I mean, I cooked him breakfast and he stayed to eat with me! I can’t be that bad in bed, can I? Also, I mean, not to gross you out or anything, but that dick was pretty bomb. Are you gay, doc? You are, right? I’m pretty sure you are ‘cause I am and-”

“Mingi,” Yeosang says, “calm down.” 

Mingi looks over at him and frowns. Yeosang looks very tired. 

“Hey, you wanna go out for lunch sometime?” Mingi says. Yeosang sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I have a boyfriend, Mingi,” he says. He reaches for his phone and turns it on, revealing a picture of himself squished against another man, both of them grinning happily. “I told you two weeks ago, remember?” 

Mingi blushes and laughs, scratching the back of his neck nervously. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean-”

Yeosang waves his hand, smiling kindly at Mingi. “No, I know. It’s okay, Mingi.” He clears his throat and looks down at his clipboard. Mingi cranes his neck to try and see what it says, but Yeosang’s used to that sort of behavior by now. He tilts it away and Mingi sits back down. 

“Anyway,” Yeosang says, his eyes still on the scribbles on the paper, “why do you think you fall in love so easily?” 

Mingi shrugs. There’s a reason that’s trying to get out and into the open, but Mingi can’t understand it. 

“I dunno,” he says. Yeosang arches an eyebrow. 

“Mingi,” he says firmly, “are you sure? Please don’t lie to me.” 

Mingi shifts in place. He shrugs again and looks away. He doesn’t like it much when Yeosang starts trying to dig a little deeper than Mingi wants him to. 

“I’m not lying,” he says, very obviously lying. 

Yeosang sighs and gets ready to say something, but the little buzzer rings and their session ends. Mingi stands up, probably a bit too eagerly to seem like he’s okay to Yeosang, and smiles at the man. 

“Thanks, Doc,” he says. He bows because he’s really desperate to get out of here. “I’ll see you next week!” 

“Mingi, wait!” Yeosang calls, but Mingi’s already throwing the door open and sprinting out. However, he collides with something very sturdy and falls to the ground. 

“Hey!” he says as he sits up and rubs his head. 

“Oh, sorry!” the man says. He bends down to help Mingi up. Mingi recognizes him as Yeosang’s boyfriend. 

“You’re my psychologist’s boyfriend!” he blurts out. Just then, the door to Yeosang’s office opens. 

“Jongho,” he says, “this is Mingi. He’s one of my patients. Mingi, this is Jongho, my boyfriend.” 

Jongho smiles warmly at Mingi and shakes his hand. He’s got a pretty good grip and, as Mingi looks into his eyes, he recognizes something that seems to say touch him and you die. He nods, swallowing hard as he begins to scramble away from Yeosang and his tiny but very strong and possessive boyfriend. 

“Bye, doc, see you next week, nice to meet you, Jongho!” he yells over his shoulder as he forgoes taking the elevator and pushes the door to the stairs open. He trips over his feet as he does so and he just barely manages to throw his hands in front of him to break his fall. Thankfully, he only crashes into the wall. This time, there aren’t any marks and Mingi’s back to rushing down the stairs. 

He stumbles out into the street and looks around. Mingi’s head pounds and his heart thunders as breathing grows hard. Mingi clutches his head and feels his fingers twitch. 

Shut up, shut up, shut up! he thinks desperately. He feels the tears welling up and the eyes that crawl over him as he stumbles about. He can hear people whispering about him. 

Get out, get out, get out of my head, oh my God, what the fuck what the fuck, what the fuck. 

Mingi feels the screams bubbling up in his throat. The tears are already pouring, sliding down his cheeks as easily as water from a faucet. 

Pathetic, pathetic, get out, get out. 

“Move along people, move along. Give the guy some space.” 

Mingi continues to hyperventilate as his knees give out beneath him. He looks around but everything and everyone around him is blurred by his tears. His head spins and he releases a loud sort of whimper, crying out pathetically. 

Pathetic.

“Hey, man, it’s okay,” a voice says as strong arms pull him into an unfamiliar chest. Mingi thrashes, scared and surprised, his hands coming to grip the stranger’s forearms. He looks up frantically as he shakes in place, tears rolling down his cheeks. He opens his mouth to release another sound as the guy hugs him. 

“Deep breaths, deep breaths,” the man says. His voice is nice and pretty deep. It’s soothing. 

“Hong-Hongjoong,” Mingi stammers. Hongjoong’s always the one who calms him down. Hongjoong and Seonghwa. It’s always them. They’re always the ones who come over to calm him down and wrap him in blankets so he can nap and calm down. Hongjoong and Seonghwa. 

“He’s my best friend,” Mingi says, feeling dizzy. He whimpers and clutches the stranger’s shirt. “Where-?” 

“Can I see your phone?” the guy says. Mingi whimpers again and presses himself closer. The man holding him is taller than Mingi. He’s tall. He’s very tall. Mingi wonders if he’d hold him again. 

“Coming to pick me up. Hongjoong and Seonghwa.” They’re going to yell at him for not using honorifics later, God, he’s in trouble. He’s so dumb and stupid and pathetic that he’s having a panic attack in the middle of the street, God, he’s such an idiot. 

“Hey, is there a Hongjoong here? Maybe a Seonghwa?” the stranger yells. Mingi shudders as a sob racks through his body, shoving his face into the crook of the man’s neck. He smells nice, like coffee and clean laundry. 

“Oh my God, Mingi!” Seonghwa. Seonghwa is here which means Hongjoong is too because they’re always together. Oh, God, now everyone knows Mingi’s name. 

“Are you Seonghwa or Hongjoong?” the stranger says as Mingi leans against him. It’s too loud. 

Seonghwa doesn’t answer and, suddenly, Mingi is tugged away from the stranger. He catches a glimpse of dark, curly hair and big brown eyes that are filled with worry. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. He’s got a backpack too. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hongjoong says and Mingi would frown if Seonghwa wasn’t hugging him tight and rocking them back and forth to calm his panic attack. He fumbles and his hands struggle as he drags his fingers over the soft material of Seonghwa’s blouse. 

“Hyu-Hyung,” he says. His tongue feels far too heavy in his mouth. He doesn’t like it at all. He doesn’t like the wetness on his cheeks either.

“Sshh, we’re here. I’m sorry, Mingi, we should’ve texted,” Seonghwa murmurs. Mingi tries to say something to assure him that it’s Mingi’s fault because he’s stupid and pathetic, but the words end up getting caught in his throat and all he can do is sob. Seonghwa tightens the grip he has on him and rests his chin on Mingi’s shoulder. Mingi sighs and closes his eyes. 

Mingi doesn’t learn the stranger’s name but he does catch a glimpse of his face as they leave. He decides he likes it. His features are soft and friendly while his eyes are big like a puppy’s. He looks a lot like a puppy. Mingi thinks he’s cute. 

(Oh, God, here we go again.)

“So, how did it go?” Hongjoong says as he stabs a hard-boiled quail egg with his chopsticks. Seonghwa clicks his tongue and slaps his arm. 

Mingi shrugs. 

“I met his boyfriend,” he says. “He still thinks I’m traumatized.” 

Seonghwa and Hongjoong share a look that Mingi very promptly decides he hates. 

“Hey,” he says as he picks up a chunk of kimchi and shoves it into his mouth, “none of that couple-y bullshit. I’m still single.” 

“Mingi, please close your mouth when you eat,” Seonghwa says as he moves to grab something from a bowl next to Mingi. “First of all, it’s disgusting. Second of all, you could choke and die because neither of us knows how to do CPR or the Heimlich maneuver or whatever it’s called.” 

“Heimlich, babe,” Hongjoong says. Seonghwa hums, clearly uninterested, shoving more rice into his mouth. 

“I thought you said you liked the way my voice sounds,” Mingi grumps. 

“I do,” Seonghwa says. “However, I also like that you’re alive. I also dislike seeing the food in your mouth. So please, chew with your mouth closed.” 

Mingi hmphs but he obeys. 

“That guy from earlier was pretty cute, don’t you think?” he says. Hongjoong and Seonghwa stop eating. They do the stupid couple thing again, the one where they look at each other and have some sort of conversation that Mingi isn’t able to understand. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Hongjoong finally says. He shifts in his seat and Mingi watches him carefully. “How’s your week been?” 

Uh, I guess I’ve been super depressed and all, but you don’t need to know that. 

“Fine,” Mingi says. He shrugs. “Work is okay. I’m getting paid soon.” 

Seonghwa nods, looking relieved. 

“Just tell us if you need any money, okay?” he says. Mingi resists the urge to roll his eyes. He wonders if they know that’s what his real mother always says when she calls. “We really don’t mind.” 

Mingi snorts at that. He knows they don’t. Seonghwa’s parents are loaded and he’s got a good job at a law firm. Hongjoong works as a lyricist and producer for one of those big-shot companies. He makes a pretty penny off of it. Their apartment isn’t a condo or anything, but Mingi’s been over there enough times to know that it’s a whole lot better than his studio apartment. But hey, he likes his place. It’s nice. 

“It’s fine, really,” Mingi says. And, well, it is. He doesn’t have any qualms with the way he lives. Sure, he’s messy as hell because, unlike Hongjoong, there’s no one around to remind him to be neat or to clean up for him. Seonghwa, whenever he comes over, tends to go into a sort of frenzy. He cleans a lot. He even enjoys it, strangely enough. 

“You’re sure?” Seonghwa says. Mingi laughs and nods. 

“Yes, Hyung,” he says as he takes another bite of meat. “You sound like my mom. She always asks, “Mingi-yah, do you have enough to eat? You look so skinny, too skinny! Do you have a boyfriend to take care of you? You know, my friend’s son is gay,” and all that,” Mingi says, raising his voice to imitate his mother. Look, he loves the woman to death but she can be a bit difficult. 

“I’m just worried,” Seonghwa says. Mingi smiles at him. 

“Really, Hyungs, I’m fine,” he says. “It was just a panic attack.” 

“Did you mark it down in your calendar?” Seonghwa says. “Joongie, can you put it on your calendar in your phone?”

Mingi sighs and shakes his head as he pulls his own phone out and opens the little app they use to track his panic attacks. Just another day with Seonghwa as one of his friends. 

His week goes pretty smoothly after that. All of Mingi’s days are somewhat identical. Well, except for Fridays and Saturdays because those are the days he has off. But, on every other day, Mingi heads over to the library for his shift. He works for a couple of hours (from 8-2) before heading over to the studio early so he can change and practice a bit. Sometimes, his coworker, Wooyoung, will also be there. Wooyoung, like Mingi, is gay, though he’s much more successful in his romantic endeavors. Like Hongjoong and Seonghwa, he and his boyfriend, a taekwondo instructor named San, are virtually married. Which is fine because Mingi’s never been, like, a jealous guy. He likes seeing people happy even if he himself isn’t. 

And it’s all your fault, a little voice hisses. Mingi shakes his head as he walks into the café, inhaling deeply as the scent of coffee fills his nose. He walks over to get in line and runs over his order in his head. 

However, it’s all gone the moment he locks eyes with the cutest barista he’s ever seen. Mingi recognizes him as the guy who helped him two days ago.

“Hi!” he says brightly, grinning at Mingi in a way that makes his heart flutter. His eyes dart down to the nametag. 

Yunho. 

“I’ll have . . . uh,” he blanks and Yunho continues to look at him with such a soft and understanding face that Mingi feels like he’s going to pass out. “Uh . . . I’ll have the sweetest fucking thing on the menu please and thank you.” 

Yunho nods. “So, a vanilla latte with extra sugar. Right. How big?” 

I’ve been told it’s sized pretty well but I’d rather see yours for comparison. You have the greatest BDE I’ve ever seen. “Uh, large?”

Yunho smiles at him as he punches the order into the cash register. He looks up at Mingi. “Name?” 

“I’m gay,” Mingi blurts out before he can stop himself. Yunho's ears turn red and he gapes at him. Mingi feels his heart stop as he realizes what he just said. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he says. “Mingi, Mingi, that’s my name! My name isn’t ‘gay’ but I am very attracted to - oh my God, I’m only making this worse, aren’t I?”

Yunho, surprisingly, laughs at him. Mingi feels his heart flutter as the other man smiles at him. 

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “Nice to see a fellow gay on the streets of Seoul.” 

Mingi blushes. 

“I, um, I’m so sorry-” 

“No, really,” Yunho says. He smiles and Mingi nods. “You really just made my day.” 

“Oh, well that’s nice,” Mingi says. “Good, happy I could help.” 

Yunho laughs again before telling Mingi the price. Mingi fumbles and almost drops his wallet, but he manages to pay before he speed-walks over to the corner of the café and pulls out his phone. Yunho happens to be speaking with another customer and Mingi snaps a picture before texting Seonghwa and Hongjoong. 

Eomma and Appa (ver. 2)

He’s here!!!!!!!!!!

Hongjoongie-Hyung
mingi no

mingi yes

Seonghwa-Hyung
mingi no

Mingi turns his phone off (since Seonghwa will certainly be much better at stopping him from trying to go out with Yunho) and looks up. The café isn’t too crowded and it’s pretty nice. He likes this place and Yunho being an employee only makes it better. 

“Mingi!” someone calls. Mingi scrambles to his feet as he grabs his coffee. There’s something written on the cupholder. Oh, God, why did he get a hot coffee?

Sighing, Mingi heads out the door and takes a sip. It’s pretty sweet but he can’t say it’s bad. He begins walking toward the library before checking the cupholder. 

Text me
xxx-xxx-xxxx

Mingi gulps. Well, that’s nice. 

He doesn’t text or call Yunho right away. Which, since he’s in a library and no one’s come in yet, doesn’t make a lot of sense. But, for one, Mingi’s super loud. And, second of all, he knows that his eagerness to text people can be . . . not good to say the least. He just gets excited and has trouble holding himself back. 

Maybe, if he’s not so easy, Yunho will stay for longer. 

God, that’s fucked up, Mingi thinks as he shelves more books. He hears the door open and he rushes back to the desk to sit down. 

“Oh, Mingi-ssi!” Yunho says, grinning. Mingi’s ears turn pink and his face flushes as he gawks at the man. 

“Y-Yunho-ssi!” he says. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to return some books for my little brother,” Yunho says. He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a few books. Mingi nods as he takes them and places them to the side. 

“You have a brother?” he says. Yunho nods. 

“Yeah! His name’s Jongho. He took a day off with his boyfriend,” Yunho says. He smiles and shakes his head. “God, he’s so whipped for the guy. He looks at him like the sun shines out of his ass.” 

“Is his boyfriend named Yeosang by any chance?” Mingi says. Yunho’s face brightens as he nods. 

“Yeah, actually! How did you know?” 

Mingi laughs nervously. “He’s, uh, my psychologist, actually. Yeosang, that is. He’s my psychologist,” he says. Yunho’s smile doesn’t dim. 

“Cool!” he says. “I’m not allowed to see him since I’m his boyfriend’s brother, but I do see someone. Then again, who doesn’t?” 

Mingi laughs, though it’s not nearly as nervous. He adjusts his glasses and rests his chin on his hand as he looks up at Yunho. God, he’s already falling. 

“You’re right about that,” he says. Yunho grabs a chair and pulls it up to sit across from Mingi.

“It’s weird that I’ve never seen you around before,” he says. Mingi shrugs. 

“I tend to shelve books. My coworker, Ju-Ri-ssi, usually watches the front desk. She just so happens to be sick today, so I’m in charge,” he says, shrugging. Yunho nods. God, he looks so genuinely interested in Mingi that it makes him think that maybe he’s not as boring and annoying as he’s been told. 

“Do you have any other jobs?” Yunho says. Mingi shrugs. 

“I teach at a dance studio,” he says. Yunho nods. 

“Cool! I majored in dance, actually,” he says. Mingi’s eyes widen in surprise. 

“Woah, really? That’s so cool!” he says. “Where’d you go? My coworker did too, maybe you know him?” 

“I went to SNU,” Yunho says. “What’s your coworker’s name?” 

“Wooyoung,” Mingi says. “You know, short, sassy, funny - he’s dating that super buff taekwondo instructor? San. Yeah, his boyfriend’s name is San.” 

Yunho nods. “I’ve seen him around before. They go on dates in the café sometimes. They’re both kinda close in height, right? They both have pretty long black hair, right? Wooyoung sometimes ties it up in a ponytail?” 

Mingi nods. Yunho laughs and Mingi doesn’t even shush him. The library’s empty anyway. 

“Wow, what a small world,” Yunho says. Mingi nods. He’s so perfect, he’s literally walking boyfriend material and Seonghwa and Hongjoong expect him not to go out with him? How much self-control do they really think he has?

“Well, I’ll see you around,” Yunho says as he gets up. Mingi feels his heart thunder in his chest as he nods, waving at him as he goes. 

“Bye, Yunho-ssi!” he stammers out. Yunho looks over his shoulder and grins. 

Mingi melts on the spot. He’s screwed, isn’t he?

Mingi ends up texting Yunho later that day. Look, he has terrible self-control and he feels like Yunho is going to text back and he’s excited. 

Your previous boyfriends have done this too, the voice whispers. Everyone does this. How do you know he doesn’t just want sex? That’s all they ever want. 

Mingi presses his thumb against the little arrow for sending messages a little harder than he needs to. He hardly even knows Yunho and he certainly can’t make any assumptions yet. Yunho’s been nothing but kind to him. 

But isn’t that how all of them acted at first?

Yunho’s response comes back. Mingi feels his heart pound as he reads it. 

yunho?

hi

Hi! How are you? Mingi, right?

Mingi’s cheeks redden. He types out a response and hits send. 

Yeah. I’m fine. U?

Me too. How was work?

It was okay. What abt u?

Fine, thanks! 

Mingi stares at his phone. How does he respond? Does he ask him out to lunch? See if he wants to come over? Tell him some weird biology facts? Flaunt his degree? Call him?

He ends up calling Hongjoong. 

“Hyung,” he says before Hongjoong can get a single word in, “I need help.” 

“Yeah?” Hongjoong says. “What is it? Are you okay? Did something happen? Where are you?”

“At my apartment. I have a question, though.” 

“What is it? Do you need us to come over?”

Mingi shakes his head despite knowing that Hongjoong is unable to see him. He bites his nails. 

“I - um, I got a guy’s number and now I don’t know what to say,” he says. 

“What? What’s his name? What does he look like? Is he nice?”

“It’s Yunho. He’s a barista.”

Hongjoong doesn’t muffle his sigh. 

“Mingi,” he says, sounding awfully tired, “are you sure about this?”

Mingi frowns. He knows he falls in love easily and all and that Hongjoong and Seonghwa (Hongjoong especially since they’ve known each other since they were in kindergarten) are often the ones to pick up the pieces, but what’s wrong with giving it another try? 

“Hyung,” he says, “I just want to know if I should ask him if he wants to go out for lunch.” 

Hongjoong hums from the other end of the line and Mingi chews on his lower lip. 

“Please,” he says softly. Hongjoong remains silent and Mingi wonders if he should bring out the big guns. 

“It won’t be like him,” he says gently. 

“Mingi,” Hongjoong says, his tone a bit warning. Other than Mingi and his parents (his older brother moved to America and hasn’t contacted any of them since), Hongjoong knows the most about what happened all those years ago. It’s pretty reasonable that he’s skeptical. 

Mingi doesn’t say anything as he picks at the skin on his lower lip. 

“What was the last text?” Hongjoong finally says and Mingi grins. He tells Hongjoong all about his interactions with Yunho and about all of the little things he’s noticed and cataloged in his memory. Hongjoong laughs and he even puts the phone on speaker mode so Seonghwa can join in. Mingi ends up texting Yunho a few more times, though they decide against asking him out for lunch. Hongjoong and Seonghwa both agree that he should wait for Yunho. 

Mingi begins to see the man a lot more after the incident in the library. And, to be honest, he can’t say he minds. Because Yunho is sweeter than the coffees he makes and he’s always bringing extra pastries (Mingi doesn’t mind that they’re rejects. Free food is free food after all) for them to share at the library or before Mingi’s class. 

He asks Yunho out after two weeks of knowing him. Mingi, to be honest, is surprised he lasted this long. Much to his surprise, Yunho says yes. 

“I - I’ll see you at eight, then?” he says. Yunho laughs, throwing his head back as his shoulders shake. 

“Why don’t I pick you up after your class ends?” he says. “I have a car. I can . . . drive you to your place?”

Mingi blushes and waves his hands. He knows he smells awful (he’s drenched in sweat and he’s almost certain there’s a little puddle around him) and he’d rather not curse Yunho with that sort of inconvenience. 

I’m not that important anyway. 

“No, no, no, it’s fine!” he squeaks. “I - the - my apartment is just a few - a few, well, it’s more like a couple, but my apartment is a couple of blocks away. Don’t worry about it!”

“Oh,” Yunho says. Mingi is thankful he can use the dancing as an excuse for his bright red face as he gets up and grabs his back, smiling at Yunho. 

“I’ll see you soon?” he says. Yunho looks up and grins at him, nodding. 

“Can I walk you out?” he says. Mingi nods, flustered as the older man walks over. They exit the studio side-by-side, their knuckles brushing against each other. They split up when Yunho’s car comes into view and Mingi waves goodbye before jogging back to his apartment. 

While he’s doing that, he checks his phone to see if Hongjoong or Seonghwa has responded to his text. Hongjoong texted that they’re on their way and Mingi curses, his jog turning into a sprint. 

He gets to his apartment after Hongjoong and Seonghwa. They’re already inside since he got them both keys after the Incident, though they have yet to need them for anything similar to it. 

“Okay, go take a shower,” Seonghwa says as he shoves Mingi toward his bathroom. “We’re already planning your clothes, now go and shower that smell off because there is no way I’m letting you go out to a date like that.” 

“Is he picking you up?” Hongjoong yells. 

“I - uh, check my phone, hold on,” Mingi says. He fumbles and tries tugging the device out of the non-existent pocket on his yoga pants. He ends up tripping over an old t-shirt in the doorway of his bathroom before he finally finds it in his bag. He reads over their texts and gets up with a curse. 

“He’s picking me up at eight!” he yells. 

“Well, what times is it now?” Seonghwa calls from his room while Mingi tries to tug his clothes off. 

“Seven-thirty!” 

He hears Hongjoong curse loudly as he throws his shirt in the direction of the laundry bin, though he doubts it landed and, to be honest, he’d be surprised if it was even in the right direction. Mingi peels his yoga pants off of his legs and then goes for his underwear before climbing into the shower. He yelps when he’s hit by a blast of cold water, hissing loudly before getting out and hugging himself while he waits for the shower to heat up. 

When it does, Mingi jumps into the shower and washes his hair, scrubbing frantically at his scalp. He’s glad he dyed his hair back to brown a few months ago, as he’d probably start sobbing in the shower if the dye started to get messy. 

When he comes out with only a towel wrapped around his waist, Seonghwa chucks a pair of briefs at him. Mingi catches them and almost lets the towel drop, though he ends up tugging it back up right before it can leave him standing buck-naked in front of his best friends. 

“Sit down, okay, do you have any cologne? Mingi-yah, where’s your cologne?” Seonghwa barks as Mingi pulls the briefs on and stumbles about, his hair still dripping. Hongjoong tosses a loose sweater at him, one with a large v-neck that exposes (pretty much) his entire chest. It’s buttoned at the bottom and Mingi tugs it over his head before whining. 

“Hey, I’m gonna get too hot ,” he says. 

“Put on deodorant and cologne if you can find it. Besides, that sweater isn’t going to be that hot. Put on these jeans, here.” Hongjoong tosses him a pair and Mingi stumbles to catch them before sliding his legs in. He grabs a pair of socks and tugs them over his feet before running into the bathroom and grabbing his hairdryer. 

“Gosh, you really are like a princess,” Seonghwa remarks from his bedroom. Mingi glares at him through the mirror but he doesn’t say anything as he dries his hair. He grabs his phone and checks the time. In big, white letters, it says ‘19:55’. 

Then, there’s a knock on the door. Mingi curses as he puts the hairdryer down and unplugs it. 

“Mingi?” a voice says from outside. 

“Just a minute!” he yells. He turns to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The older man is frantically trying to clean Mingi’s pigsty of an apartment while Hongjoong stands awkwardly in the middle of his room. 

“Hyung!” he hisses. “Go and open the door and distract him! I need to do my hair!” 

“Five minutes,” Hongjoong says over his shoulder before dashing out. Mingi curses the Kim bloodline for producing such a bratty son as he begins combing his hair out of his face. 

“Hyung!” he says, this time calling for Seonghwa. The man comes over and stands on his tiptoes as he grabs a bag of makeup (where on earth did that come from?) and forces Mingi to sit on the toilet. 

“You should’ve called us earlier!” he hisses. Mingi rolls his eyes as Seonghwa magically finishes doing a light layer of makeup. He grabs Mingi by the wrist and shoves him toward his bedroom door. 

Sitting at Mingi’s cheap-ass, plastic (folding too!) dining table are Hongjoong and Yunho. A bouquet of flowers is sitting on top of it and Mingi feels his cheeks color with embarrassment. 

“Uh, hi,” he says, waving at Yunho. God, he looks like a total snack. He’s dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, his near-black hair curled prettily. Mingi’s heart does a tap-dance inside of his chest. 

“Hey!” Yunho says, a bit loud for how close they are. He picks up the bouquet. It’s peonies. They range from the palest of pinks to a dark magenta. Mingi swallows hard as he takes the flowers from Yunho. 

“Thank you,” he says. He shifts in place. “I, uh, I think I have a vase around here somewhere.”

“Here,” Seonghwa says, taking them from Mingi and grabbing a dusty old vase (probably from his mom. It’s almost definitely from his mom.) and filling it with water from the tap. 

“I - um, do you wanna get going?” Yunho says. Mingi nods as he grabs his shoes and tugs them on, desperately trying to escape from Hongjoong and Seonghwa. He grabs Yunho’s hand and drags him out, waving goodbye to his friends but not looking at them. 

“Oh my God, I am so, so sorry,” he says as they begin walking towards the elevator at the end of the hallway. Yunho shrugs. 

“Nah, it’s fine,” he says. “Your friends seem nice. I mean, we didn’t really, like, talk but he wasn’t mean to me. So that was nice.”

Sang-Hoon liked him at first too. He grew less fond as Hongjoong-Hyung got more suspicious. 

Mingi laughs awkwardly before realizing that he has yet to let go of Yunho’s hand. He looks down at the space between them and stares at their interlaced fingers, a flush coloring his face. He looks up at Yunho but the other man seems to be unbothered as they walk. He looks back down again and notices how their hands are roughly the same size. They’re both big and very similar to each other. Yunho’s hands are veiny and the knuckles are so dark they look a bit purple. His fingers are a bit bony too. Mingi’s hands differ from his at the knuckles. While Yunho’s are dark, Mingi’s own are roughly the same color as the rest of his hands, only a tad bit darker. They aren’t as veiny as Yunho’s and the individual joints of his fingers aren’t as pronounced. 

He likes Yunho’s hands much more than his own. He’s got a few callouses that Mingi might someday ask about but, other than those few outliers, his skin is soft against Mingi’s. He feels Yunho squeeze his hand and he looks up at him. They’re in the elevator now, the soft music from the speakers surrounding them. 

“Thanks for coming to pick me up,” Mingi says as the doors open with a soft ding. Yunho grins at him. 

“No problem!” he chirps. “Really, the pleasure’s all mine.”

Mingi, despite himself, laughs at the man. Yunho tugs him close and they walk towards the elevator leading to the parking garage. Mingi, because he doesn’t have or need a car, hasn’t been here very often except when he rides with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. And Seonghwa tends to prefer using his motorcycle when he can. 

They get to the garage and Yunho leads Mingi over to a Hyundai parked near the front. Mingi’s eyes widen when he notices the quality of the car though Yunho’s opening the door for him and smiling kindly as he holds it. Mingi climbs inside and looks around. 

“Do you have some secret job as, like, a stripper that I don’t know about?” Mingi says. Yunho, much to his relief, laughs as he starts the car and shakes his head. Mingi doubts he’s trying to, but it’s hard not to notice the whitening of his knuckles as he grips the wheel and pulls out. 

“Nah,” he says, “my parents are just loaded and all. They like to send me money and gifts sometimes.” 

Mingi hums, kicking his feet a bit as he looks around. When they arranged it, Yunho had said he wanted to take Mingi somewhere as a surprise, so he hasn’t a single clue where they’re going. 

However, when he notices the brightly-lit sign of the fried chicken place (it’s a chain too), he punches Yunho’s arm. 

“Yah!” he says as Yunho cackles. “Are you seriously taking me out to get fried fucking chicken?! I could’ve ordered this myself!” 

Yunho continues laughing and Mingi’s hand shoots out to wrap around the wheel as they just barely miss getting hit by another car. It makes Yunho laugh even harder before he takes back control and turns away from the chicken place. 

“No, I’m not,” he says. He sighs, pretending to be betrayed while Mingi looks on. “Oh, Mingi-ssi, did you really think that I’d do that to you?” 

Well, yes. I’m a pretty cheap date. 

Mingi scowls at him and crosses his arms as he slumps in his seat. Yunho looks over at him and, though Mingi can’t see it, there’s a sparkle of fear in his eyes alongside the curious but still gentle fondness. Mingi doesn’t look over at him, though, and when he does, Yunho turns away, embarrassed. 

They get to the barbeque place after twenty minutes of driving. Mingi is starting to get a feeling that Yunho doesn’t exactly need his job as a barista and it only grows as they head inside of the restaurant. 

“Gosh, this place is so nice,” Mingi says as he looks around. Yunho laughs nervously and shrugs as he takes a sip from his water. 

“It’s - ah, it’s nothing, really. This is just somewhere my brother likes to go,” he says. 

“Jongho?” Mingi says as he eyes the menu and subconsciously licks his lips. “You guys seem close.” 

Yunho laughs, a lot more relaxed now that the conversation is more about his brother rather than money. 

(Sang-Hoon didn’t have a lot of money. He scorned the government and capitalism and society and, most often, Mingi for that. Never his own bad habits.)

“Well, yeah,” he says. “We’re the two Ho brothers. That’s what we’ve been nicknamed.” 

Mingi laughs and grins at Yunho. 

“Are you really?” he says. Yunho shrugs but the sparkle in his eyes confirms it as Mingi throws back his head and allows the laughter to bubble out of him. The claws around his heart, the ones he’s grown numb to, seem to loosen up a bit and allow him some time to breathe. “Oh, gosh, that’s actually really cute.” 

“You think so?” Yunho says. Mingi nods. “I always hated it. He’d follow me around all the time and I’d try and run off. Despite it all, we were and still are the two Ho brothers. Though, technically our last names are Jeong and Choi.” 

“Is there a story behind that?” Mingi says. “Or is it just your parents decided to give you separate last names?” 

“Ding ding ding!” Yunho says, spreading his arms and accidentally hitting a waiter in the face. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he says, his eyes wide. The man waves it off. 

“It’s nothing,” he says. “Anyway, I’m Soobin and I’ll be helping you today. Any drinks?” 

The date is really, really nice. Yunho even pays though Mingi insists on buying desert for them. They eat ice cream in the summer heat, the icy treat melting and dripping from their cones and onto their hands until they both have skin that’s sticky with sugar. Mingi has to pull his sweater back and Yunho hands him napkins constantly as the sun sets and the temperature begins to go down, albeit rather slowly. But it’s nice. It’s not too cold nor is it too hot (though Mingi does wish the ice cream wasn’t melting) and the sun casts a pretty light over them as it sets over the Seoul skyline. 

“This was nice,” Yunho says as they drive back, though they’re currently stuck in a traffic jam. Mingi nods, too afraid to say anything. He doesn’t want to ruin yet another relationship. Yunho looks over at him, probably curious about his silence. “Would . . . would you be opposed to doing it again?” he says. 

Mingi shakes his head quickly. 

“No, not at all!” he says. Yunho arches an eyebrow. Mingi flushes awkwardly. His hands are still sticky but he uses his pointer finger to tug at the neck of his sweater. 

“Are you okay?” Yunho says. He frowns. “You know, it’s okay if you didn’t like it. I don’t-”

“No!” Mingi says immediately. “No, I l- it was spectacular! Really, I was super happy. I enjoyed it, really I did. It was nice, thank you.” 

Yunho raises an eyebrow and Mingi hates himself even more. “Are - is that a ‘yes’ to another date?” he says hopefully. 

Mingi blushes and nods furiously. He’s thankful for the car in front of them because the red glare from the lights makes his flushed face less obvious. He wrings his hands nervously and notices how Yunho’s eyes are drawn to the movement. 

The rest of the drive is silent. Mingi begins to wonder if Yunho is beginning to regret asking for a second date. 

“Do you mind if I walk you upstairs?” Yunho says after he parks in the garage. They’re just sitting in the car next to each other, practically bathing in silence. It’s strange because Mingi is loud and he loves talking. 

(He’s heard, though, that it’s rather annoying when he never shuts up. He can’t seem to make himself be quiet for very long, though.)

“No,” Mingi says. He doesn’t look at Yunho as he gets out of the car and waits a bit before striding toward the elevator. He presses the button for the lobby and stares straight ahead at the doors, chewing on his bottom lip. It’s pretty dry and he should probably get some lip balm. 

They reach Mingi’s apartment and stand awkwardly in front of the door. Mingi unlocks the door and shifts in place. 

Then, Yunho leans forward and kisses his cheek. 

“Thank you for going on a date with me goodbye and I hope you have a good night!” he says quickly before sprinting wildly down the hallway. Mingi watches him go with wide eyes and a flushed face before reaching up and touching his cheek. 

“Ooh, boy!” Hongjoong yells from inside. Mingi screams and jumps when he does, having forgotten he was there. 

“Holy shit, man!” he yells. He looks out the door before going inside and closing the door. “Have you guys been here the entire time?” 

“Yes?” Seonghwa says as if it’s a given. He sits down on the couch and Mingi notes that the place is a whole lot cleaner than when he left. “Now, give us the details. Are you going on a second date?” 

Mingi giggles and jumps onto the couch with a squeal, happily kicking his feet. 

“Yes!” he says. His phone buzzes and he unlocks it to see his messages. 

yunho <3

I had fun tonight. Will I see you tomorrow?

“Text him back, text him back!” Seonghwa yells as he cranes his neck to see over Mingi’s shoulder. Mingi raises his phone in a silent threat to hit him and Seonghwa laughs. 

I had fun tonight. Will I see you tomorrow?

yup! goodnight and thx for tonight!

“Why would you text that,” Hongjoong deadpans. Mingi sticks his tongue out at him and kicks him off of the couch before sighing loudly. Hongjoong and Seonghwa shake their heads before beginning to pack up, bidding him goodnight before they leave. Mingi finds himself alone in the silence of his apartment but, unlike how he usually feels, he doesn’t really mind. 

“I’m in love,” he says. He smiles up at the ceiling as his eyes begin to droop. “Gosh, he’s so wonderful.” 

(He finds it a lot easier to fall asleep to thoughts of Yunho instead of trying desperately to clear his head of Sang-Hoon.)

They continue going on dates. Mingi introduces Yunho to Seonghwa and Hongjoong and all three of them get along wonderfully. Meanwhile, he meets up with Jongho and Yeosang. 

“You know, Mingi,” Yeosang says during one of their sessions, “I’m going to have to stop seeing you.”

“What?” Mingi gasps. “I have to change my psychologist? Why?” 

Yeosang huffs a laugh and smiles at him. “I can’t treat you or anything if we’re friends outside of this.” 

“Oh,” Mingi says. He looks up from his hands. “So this is the last time I’ll be paying you?” 

Yeosang cackles at that. When he controls himself, he smiles and nods. 

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” he says. He gets up and heads over to his desk to run through the papers on it. Mingi notices his name written on it in neat print. He smiles and shuffles them about. “If I can recommend anyone, though, I’d tell you to look for Dr. Kim Namjoon. He’s especially good at his job.” 

“Do you see him or something?” 

“Oh, no,” Yeosang says, waving his hand to dismiss the question. “He works in this building. You can probably schedule a meeting with him at the front desk. No, I don’t see him. I know a few people who do, though, and they can all agree that he’s great.” 

Mingi nods. “I’ll look into it,” he says as he gets up. The buzzer rings and Yeosang grins at him. 

“Good luck, Mingi,” he says. “So, are you coming out to the bar with us this weekend? You’re bringing your friends, right?” 

Mingi nods as he opens the door. Yeosang nods at him in thanks as he exits and they walk out together. 

When he finishes teaching his class, he heads out and finds Yunho’s car parked in front of the studio. Wooyoung, who’s also planning to meet his own boyfriend, elbows him and wiggles his eyebrows when Yunho waves at them. 

“He’s a total snack, you’re so lucky,” he says. Mingi blushes as Yunho walks toward them. “Don’t tell San I said that. He gets jealous easily.” 

“Who gets jealous easily?” Yunho says. “Me?” He wraps an arm around Mingi’s waist and tugs him closer. Mingi whines and shoves him away. 

“I need to shower, not right now!” he says. Yunho laughs and Wooyoung gags. 

“Not you,” he says. He cranes his neck before grinning and jumping. “Sannie dear! Over here!” 

“How do you put up with him?” Yunho says. “With both of them? They’re, like, disgustingly affectionate.” 

“So are you,” Wooyoung says as San runs forward. He picks Wooyoung up and swings him around before kissing him. 

“Oh my God, please don’t make out in the middle of the parking lot,” Mingi says. Wooyoung pulls away from San to stick his tongue out. 

“Oh, be quiet,” he says. “Anyway, you guys are coming on Friday, right?” 

“I had to think about it a bit when I saw your names in the chat,” Yunho says teasingly. San raises his fists and then Yunho holds his hands up in surrender. Mingi laughs and rolls his eyes while Wooyoung cackles evilly. They wave goodbye and then walk to their own cars, climbing in. 

“Do you want to come to my place? Maybe to watch a movie or something?” Mingi says nonchalantly, though he’s unable to keep from watching Yunho through the corner of his eye. 

Yunho swallows hard, but his expression is still blank. 

“Sure,” he says. “Do you want me to drop you off to go pick something up?” 

“Can we get fried chicken?” Mingi says. Yunho laughs. 

“That sounds fine,” Yunho says as he stops at the red light. “You can shower too. Do you wanna pick something for us to watch?”

Mingi hums in agreement as he places his elbows on top of his bag and turns to stare out the window. He can see Yunho sneaking glances at him and it makes his heart flutter. 

Sang-Hoon did it too, didn’t he?

Mingi blinks rapidly and shuts the voice out. Or, well, he tries to. It works, but Mingi has no doubt that it’ll be back. 

He looks over at Yunho and finds the other to already be staring at him. Instead of looking away, though, Yunho smiles and reaches out to brush a curl of brown hair behind Mingi’s ear. 

“What?” Mingi says as he sits up. Yunho laughs at his cluelessness and presses his foot against the gas pedal. 

“You’re just beautiful,” he says. Mingi snorts. That’s not something people tell him often, is it? Mingi isn’t particularly attractive or anything; he has a monolid instead of a fold, his nose is pretty sharp, his lips are too plump for a man’s - he’s not too attractive by Korean standards. Or most other people’s apparently. But, well, Mingi supposes that’s just how it is. 

“All right, all right,” he says, waving his hand. He shakes his head and stares at his bag. It’s sitting in his lap. “No need to shower me with compliments.” 

“Do you not like it?” Yunho says, his eyes on the road but his face tilted in Mingi’s direction. “Does it make you uncomfortable or anything? Do you want me to use a different word?”

Mingi shakes his head. 

“No, it’s fine,” he says. He doesn’t want to scare Yunho away with all of his emotional baggage. “You just don’t have to do it, that’s all.”

“But I want to.” 

Mingi is unable to stop from gaping at Yunho. Who, for the matter, doesn’t look over, though it may be because they’re driving and he doesn’t want to kill them. 

“Why?” Mingi says. “Why do you want to do that? I’m not-” He stops himself. The words ‘ I’m not like Seonghwa’ linger on the tip of his tongue. Sang-Hoon liked Seonghwa. Mingi knows that now. But he also knows (has known for a rather long time) that Seonghwa is extremely attractive. And Mingi, well, he’s just dulled even more when they’re together. 

“Well, I think you are,” Yunho says. He looks over his shoulder as he parks, turning over to look at Mingi and grinning brightly. “You’re gorgeous.” 

Mingi snorts and shakes his head as he pushes the door open and climbs out. Yunho follows and then they’re walking toward the elevator. 

“You kinda sound like my mom,” Mingi says as he presses the button and steps inside of the elevator. Yunho hums. 

“Well, we’re both right,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. Mingi snorts again and shakes his head. 

“Mm. Sure.” 

FEELS LIKE HOME

When Mingi gets home, Yunho waves goodbye and tells him to text his order even though Mingi knows he has it memorized. He laughs and shakes his head while saying his own goodbyes before heading inside to shower. When he’s done, he grabs an oversized t-shirt (a big gray one that he’s absolutely in love with) and a pair of briefs. Mingi puts on a facemask and combs his hair away from his face before grabbing a cushion and turning the TV on. Hongjoong had recommended ‘ It’s Okay to Not Be Okay’ to him just the other day. He’d been quite excited and enthusiastic about it so Mingi supposes he’ll give it a watch. 

Yunho takes around thirty minutes to get all of their food. When he gets back, he knocks loudly on Mingi’s door for him to open. 

“Without me?” he whines when he sees the facemask. Mingi laughs as he locks the door and grabs some paper plates from the counter. He walks over to the couch and sits on the ground in front of the coffee table. Yunho places the chicken on top and they begin to eat. 

“Oh, I heard that one was really good,” he says when he notices Mingi’s choice. Mingi laughs as he turns it on and they begin to eat. He pauses a few minutes in to clean the mask off, though Yunho rushes in to put his own on. Mingi nibbles on the chicken while he waits, watching the door curiously. 

Your depression meds are in there. 

Mingi swallows the chicken and shoves the thought into the back of his head. Yunho doesn’t seem like the type to mention them unless Mingi brings them up. Or so he hopes. 

Thankfully, Yunho doesn’t say anything when he comes back out and sits beside Mingi. They continue watching the show and eating their dinner, slowly falling into Gang-Tae’s and Moon-Young’s love story. It’s intertwined with themes of mental health and disability and trauma, all of them drawing both men in deeper. 

However, their eyes begin to droop after several episodes and it isn’t long before Mingi is turning Netflix off and stretching. 

“Thanks,” he says to Yunho. Yunho smiles at him and his eyes flick down to Mingi’s lips, sleepy and curious. Mingi does the same and his heart pounds in his chest. He’s never kissed Yunho before. 

It changes that night as they sit in front of the TV, the dimming screen casting a dim glow over them. Yunho’s lips are soft against Mingi’s and he can taste their dinner plus the cheap sodas from the convenience store. His hands are warm as they cup Mingi’s face to tug him closer, a bit greasy too but it’s tolerable. He’s a gentle kisser and Mingi loves it. He threads his fingers through Yunho’s hair and it isn’t long before he’s straddling the older, the TV (which, mind you, is still on) and chicken long forgotten. But Mingi doesn’t care. Not when Yunho is kissing him like he’s the most wonderful person in the world. Not when he’s holding onto Mingi like he’ll disappear if he lets go. His hands are big and his fingers are long as they slide down from Mingi’s waist to rest on his hips, his fingers splayed over the expanse of Mingi’s back. His mouth is hot against Mingi’s and he begins to massage his hips gently, humming against his lips when Mingi releases a little whimper. 

“You - you’re a really good kisser,” Mingi pants out when they finally manage to wrench themselves away from each other. Yunho looks over at him and grins. His dark brown hair is disheveled and his face is flushed while his lips are bitten red and swollen. Mingi isn’t much better. 

“Thanks,” he says. He sighs and lets his head fall back against the seat of the couch. Mingi feels a bit shameless as he watches the movements of his Adam’s apple, his eyes tracing the length of his neck and how it slides down to his shoulders and torso. Yunho’s legs, like Mingi’s, are very long. His feet are too and he’s a size or two bigger than Mingi. Not that he minds. 

(He remembers Sang-Hoon being tall. Taller than Mingi, even.)

“Do-” Mingi swallows down the lump in his throat “-do you want to sleep over?” 

Yunho hums and Mingi looks over. 

“If it’s okay with you,” Yunho says. Mingi can’t help laughing as he shakes his head and gets up. 

“I’m the one who offered, so I’d say that it’s pretty safe,” he says as he helps Yunho to his feet. Yunho laughs and they begin to clean up the apartment. Mingi chews on his lip and tries to remember where the extra blankets are as he shoves the paper plates into the trash can. 

“Hold on,” he says to Yunho before heading into his bedroom and trying to find any spare blankets. He curses when he can’t. 

“Yunho?” he says as he walks out. Yunho hums in question and Mingi notices that he’s arranging the pillows and blankets on the couch so it’s more of a bed. 

“Is this okay?” Yunho says, gesturing to the couch. He scratches the back of his neck and chuckles nervously. “I wasn’t sure if you had some sort of-”

“No, it’s fine!” Mingi says, his voice a bit too loud for their situation. Yunho doesn’t seem to mind as he smiles at Mingi and turns to the couch. Mingi just has to open his big mouth, though. 

“You can share the bed with me!” he squeaks, shutting his eyes and looking away. Yunho doesn’t say anything but Mingi can hear him walking over. A hand cups his cheek and turns him to face Yunho. He pries one of his eyes open and stares at him.

“Are you sure?” Yunho says, his eyes searching Mingi’s worriedly. Mingi tries to nod but Yunho tightens the grip on his chin. “Mingi, are you sure?” 

Mingi swallows hard and nods. 

“Yes,” he says. He tries to smile. “Really, it’s fine, Yunho. I don’t mind. I’m just-”

“-nervous,” Yunho finishes for him. His hand falls from Mingi’s face and Mingi has to rein himself in so he doesn’t chase after it like some touch-starved gremlin. “Hey, it’s okay. I can always go home if you want.” 

“Don’t leave!” Mingi says, grabbing Yunho’s hands and tugging him closer. “Don’t - please don’t leave me.” 

“Get out! Get out of my room, out of my house - get out of my life!”

Yunho smiles softly at him and Mingi’s heart thunders in his chest. He lifts his free hand to push a curl behind Mingi’s ear. 

“Okay,” he says. Mingi feels his lower lip begin to wobble as his eyes begin to well up with tears. He tugs Yunho close with the grip on his wrist and hides his face in the crook of the taller man’s neck. He’s warm. 

Gently, Yunho’s hands come to rest on Mingi’s hips. Mingi sniffles and presses himself closer, seemingly trying to merge his body with Yunho’s. 

Later, as Yunho snores the night away beside him, Mingi stays up and stares at the ceiling. The fan moves slowly, lazily, and his eyes track it tiredly. His head is spinning and his eyelids are beginning to droop, yet he finds himself unable to go back to sleep. It’s been a decently long time since he last shared a bed with someone and didn’t do anything sexual. 

Mingi sighs and closes his eyes. 

“If you leave me, Song Mingi, I’ll fucking kill myself!”

His eyes fly open and Mingi gasps. He blinks rapidly and tries to catch his breath. 

He can’t hurt you, not anymore, he thinks. He’s in the hospital. He can’t do anything. 

“You won’t leave me, will you, Mingi? You’ll stay forever, right?” 

Shut up, Mingi thinks. He rolls onto his side and glares at the door, though it’s blurry because he doesn’t have his glasses. He’s not coming back. It’s illegal. 

It lasts two more years, Mingi thinks back. He sighs and shakes his head before getting up and putting his glasses on. Mingi pads over to his desk and opens the drawers, talking quietly to himself. When he finds what he’s looking for, he grabs it and heads into the kitchen. 

Something he and Hongjoong used to do is sit on the kitchen counter and drink. Mingi has one bottle of whiskey kept in the far back of his cabinet. Seonghwa made him promise to be careful about it, especially after the Incident. His mother and father, when they come over, will check to make sure while he’s ‘sleeping’, always writing down things like that so they can feel like he’s safe. Mingi likes to think he is. 

(There are days, though, when Mingi is tempted to throw the blankets off and storm in to scream that he’s so fucked up from what happened that he wants to jump off of the roof of the building. He doesn’t, though, because it’s not fair of him to worry others with his stupid problems.)

He sighs and shakes his head as he brings the bottle to his lips and drinks. The liquid burns as it rushes down his throat and he makes a face as he places it next to him. Mingi begins reading over the papers, over and over, trying to calm his rushing mind. 

“Hey,” a raspy voice says from in front of him. Mingi looks up, surprised, as Yunho rubs his eyes and yawns. He looks cute. 

“Did I wake you up?” Mingi says. Yunho hums as he walks over to the fridge. Instinctively, Mingi presses the papers against his chest to protect them. Yunho doesn’t seem to notice as he pulls a beer out of the fridge and goes to sit at Mingi’s shitty kitchen table. He opens it and takes a sip, sighing as he slouches in his seat. 

“I probably shouldn’t drink this,” he says, sounding a bit spaced-out. Mingi hums and looks up from the papers. 

“Why not?” he says. Yunho hums. 

“I was thinking we could go for a drive,” he says casually. Mingi feels the papers fall from his hands. Yunho doesn’t look over, but Mingi’s too shocked to try and hide the fact that he got his restraining order against his ex down on paper. 

“What?” he says. Yunho looks at him and raises an eyebrow. He looks a bit like a puppy when he tilts his head like that. 

“There’s a nice place I wanna take you to,” he says. He shrugs. “We’re both awake now; I didn’t want to force you to get up at the asscrack of dawn.” 

He liked to sleep as late as possible. So does Mingi, but he finds it harder now because he has a job. Two, actually.

Mingi snorts as he grabs the papers and pushes himself off of the counter. He pads over, wearing only his briefs, socks, and an oversized t-shirt, then he cups Yunho’s face with his free hand. 

“Why not?” 

They leave the garage and Mingi feels like he’s already falling asleep. Yunho laughs at him as he turns the radio on and they begin to drive through the streets of Seoul. The city lights are bright around them and Mingi watches with drooping eyelids, his glasses reflecting the scenery as they pass it by. 

“How are you not seconds away from passing out?” Mingi says with a yawn. Yunho laughs. He’s really pretty. 

“I’m an early riser and a barista,” Yunho says. “It’s kind of an integral part of my life now.” 

Mingi snorts and shakes his head as he leans back in his seat and heaves a sigh. 

“That sounds like it sucks,” he says. He side-eyes Yunho, tracing his features and trying to memorize them. “Do you have any other jobs, though?” 

Yunho hums and shrugs. 

“Nah,” he says after some contemplation. He seems to get a little tense. “My parents send me money.”

“Oh,” Mingi says. Yunho hums again. 

“It’s fine, though,” he says. “I’m not in a bad spot really. Probably because they’re still sending me money, but I’m looking for another job. I had an interview a couple of days ago.” 

“Oh, how did it go?” Mingi says. Yunho begins to tell him about it and it isn’t long before they’re filling the vehicle with their mindless chatter. 

When they arrive, it’s after around an hour of driving, much to Mingi’s annoyance. But Yunho’s so excited as he grabs his hand and tugs him out of the vehicle, running off. Mingi sprints after him and hardly notices as the trees around them grow more common and dense. The sky is beginning to blush a bit as the sun slowly rises from its slumber, the moon still hanging large and heavy in the sky. It’s a bit chilly despite the summer season and Mingi shivers, hugging himself as he walks through the forest. 

“Isn’t it great?” 

Mingi hums in agreement as he stands beside Yunho and looks out at the sunset. It is, actually, and he’s happy Yunho took him. He tells the man such, drawing a joyous laugh from him. 

“Thank you,” Yunho says. “It means a lot.” 

Mingi smiles at him. Yunho’s wearing one of his sweaters and he looks soft and fluffy with his bedhead and kind eyes. He cups Mingi’s face and then they’re kissing, softly pressing their lips together. Mingi tilts his head to make it easier and Yunho giggles. Mingi wants to be with him forever. 

As they pull apart, the words ‘ I love you’ tickle the back of his throat. Mingi thinks about releasing them into the air, wondering how Yunho would react. But when he looks over at the other man and his bright grin as he looks out at the sunrise, he can’t bring himself to roll the die. His relationship with Yunho is too precious. 

(The first time he and Sang-Hoon used the ‘L’ word, it was yelled at him from the side window of Sang-Hoon’s old cadillac. Mingi remembers how his lips had tasted like beer and how gentle his hands had been in contrast to his words. He remembers feeling so very loved he felt as if he would be happy to die right then and there.)

When he meets Kim Namjoon for the first time, he expresses that he thinks his way of falling in love so fast is because he didn’t truly care for those men and he simply wanted something to numb the pain in his aching heart. Namjoon listens attentively and he writes a few things down, nodding and offering what advice he can. He seems surprised that Mingi’s jumping right into it but he doesn’t ask, though he does run through the medication listed for him with Mingi. 

“Well,” Namjoon says as he shuffles the papers on his desk and smiles at Mingi, “it was wonderful to meet you, Mingi-ssi. I hope I’ll see you next week.” 

Mingi nods, smiling back. Namjoon watches as he goes, waving goodbye. 

It isn’t long before he and Yunho become official. Everyone else in their little group laughs and talks as they go out to get drinks and maybe go to the noraebang if Mingi can stay sober enough to realize that his voice is too loud and not nearly as good as he’s pretending it is. He’d punched Yeosang in the arm for that comment and almost risked death when Jongho had gotten in front of his boyfriend. 

But things are nice. Mingi is happy. He and Yunho are close and they’re happy and they’re dating and life is good. When he calls his mother and father, they both point out that he sounds a lot better. Mingi positively beams. 

arms

The first time he and Yunho say their ‘I love you’s, it’s while Mingi is in Yunho’s lap while they make out and pretend to watch TV. Yunho’s lips are soft but they burn a trail down the column of Mingi’s neck and the words simply tug themselves free. 

“I love you,” he gasps. Yunho stops and looks up at him, his brown eyes wide. Mingi feels his heart pound and he suddenly has an overwhelming sense of fear creeping up on him. 

“I - I love you too,” Yunho breathes. Mingi feels himself relax as he kisses Yunho again, trying to get him to see just how much Mingi really loves him. Yunho loves him, he loves him, he loves him. 

He finds out, the next morning, that Yunho likes scrambled eggs on toast in the morning. Well, Yunho wakes up first but Mingi is roused by the sound of him showering and he limps into the kitchen after getting dressed to make some coffee. 

“Eggs?” he says as Yunho comes in, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. Yunho hums and doesn’t say anything as he walks forward and wraps his hands around Mingi’s waist, his chin resting on his shoulder. 

“Scrambled, please,” he says softly. Mingi snorts and shakes his head as he waddles over to the fridge, Yunho having decided to stay plastered to his back. Not that he minds, of course. 

“Babe,” Mingi says as he cracks the eggs in a bowl and adds some salt before beginning to mix them with a pair of chopsticks, “you need to let go of me.” 

“Mm, no, I don’t think I will,” Yunho says teasingly. Mingi rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he continues to cook breakfast, humming under his breath. 

“I love you,” he says as he grabs some plates from the cupboard. Yunho presses a kiss to his neck and tries to hide his grin there. 

“I love you too,” he says. Mingi smiles as he grabs the plates, but Yunho’s hand wraps around his wrist. 

“Hold on,” he says. He grins and Mingi grins back. “I’m going to show you the best way to eat eggs in the morning.” 

Mingi supposes it’s pretty good, but it might also be because Yunho’s looking at him like he’s the most amazing person in the entire world. 

But, alas, Mingi should’ve known that luck’s smile upon him was far too sugary sweet for it to be real. He’s too naïve to see it though. 

His meeting with Yunho’s parents is far from conventional. To both parties, really, and Mingi thinks it’s where it all goes downhill. 

“Yunho, Yunho!” Mingi says, waving his hand. Yunho’s talking to an elderly couple and when he looks over his shoulder, Mingi misses the fear in his eyes as he walks over. 

“Yunho?” Mingi says as he gets closer. “Babe?” His phone buzzes and he looks down. 

yunho <3

Not now, princess

Mingi frowns before turning the device off and walking over. Yunho and the couple have both stopped talking and the tension in the air builds with every step closer. 

“Who’s this, Yunho?” the woman says. Yunho doesn’t look at him. 

“He’s-”

“I’m his boyfriend,” Mingi says. Yunho tenses up beside him which is quite the feat considering how wound-up he was when Mingi walked over. He clings to Yunho’s arm. “My name’s Mingi.” 

“Yunho?” the man says, arching an eyebrow. It sounds like he’s waiting for the man to deny it. 

“What?” Mingi says. “Who are these people?” 

Yunho bites the inside of his cheek. 

“These are my parents, Mingi,” he says. “Eomma, Appa, this is Mingi.” 

Mingi grins and holds his hand out. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

The two people share a disgusted look before aiming it at Yunho, who shrinks beneath the weight of their eyes. Mingi feels the anxiety building up and he squeezes Yunho’s arm. Yunho tugs himself free. 

“Yunho, is this some kind of sick joke?” the man says. “Are you like - like your brother ?” He says the last part with so much disgust and scorn that Mingi winces himself. Oh, no. 

“Eomma, Appa, it’s not what you think,” Yunho says. He waves a hand at Mingi. “He meant, not, like, ‘boyfriend’. He meant boy space friend! I’m not gay, I swear!”

Mingi gapes at him. 

“What?” he says. Yunho looks over at him and his eyes are pleading. Mingi can’t make himself feel any pity, though. 

“Are you - are you actually going to say that?” Mingi says weakly. Yunho mouths something and Mingi tries not to cry. He finds himself wiping his eyes anyway. “You - are you ashamed of me?” 

Sang-Hoon never liked going out with me in public. 

“No!” Yunho says. “No, Mingi, I’m not ashamed of you.” 

“So you’re gay?” Yunho’s father says. 

“No!” 

Mingi feels the tears sliding down his cheeks as they land on the pavement. A few raindrops join them. 

Yunho looks between his parents and boyfriend, his eyes wide and frantic. 

“Mingi-” he says, reaching for him. Mingi jerks away and narrows his eyes, snarling. 

“Don’t touch me if you’re fucking ashamed ,” he hisses. Yunho stares at him, trying desperately to convince him that it’s all a misunderstanding. 

“Get away from him,” Yunho’s mother says. 

Yunho stares at Mingi as if he’s trying to beg him to stay using only his eyes. 

We’ll work it out. Please, just don’t leave. 

“Mingi, baby, I promise I won’t do it again. We’ll work it out, just don’t leave me.”

Mingi turns tail and runs. He thanks his parents for giving him long legs and curses his brain for thinking it would be a good idea to wear skinny jeans. His mind is trying to trick him into thinking that there’s someone running after him, that Yunho broke away from his parents to find him. 

Mingi is so fucking pathetic.

He gets home and kicks his shoes off to sob and hide beneath the covers. They smell like Yunho and Mingi finds himself frantically pushing them off of himself, crying loudly and releasing a frustrated scream. He climbs up onto the couch and tries to find something that hasn’t been touched by Yunho. It’s a lot easier said than done. 

Yunho texts him a total of 57 times. He calls him 22 times. He leaves voicemails every time. Jongho calls him 8 times and texts him 32 times. Yeosang calls him 10 times after sending rapid-fire texts about thinking before he does anything and calling his parents or Seonghwa and Hongjoong if he feels like adding an Incident part two to his resumé. San calls him 5 times and sends him maybe 20 texts. Wooyoung does something similar. Hongjoong texts him 43 times and calls him 18. Seonghwa texts him once and then he opens the door to Mingi’s apartment with Hongjoong. 

“Okay, Joong, dear, get all of his sheets and clothes to wash them,” Seonghwa says. “Mingi, come over here and let me make you a proper blanket roll.” 

Mingi wonders if he should watch Seonghwa as he cleans so he can tell him where to put things. But Seonghwa is the one who got him such a good lawyer when he filed the restraining order against Sang-Hoon, so he supposes that there really isn’t anything he should be worried about him finding. And he probably already knows where Mingi likes to keep the papers. 

It takes them around an hour or two. And then, Mingi finds himself wrapped in clean sheets that no longer smell like Yunho and more like the laundry detergent used in the basement. It had taken a bit of convincing from both Seonghwa and Hongjoong to get him to change his clothes, as they’d been thoroughly soaked by the rain when he’d run through it. Mingi had simply let the clothes stick to his skin but Seonghwa had insisted that he’d changed. Hongjoong had promised to buy him dinner and take him shopping. 

“Do you wanna watch anything on TV?” Hongjoong says as they eat dinner, kudos to Seonghwa for rushing out to pick it up. It tastes like cardboard to Mingi, but that’s just the heartbreak. 

He shrugs. Hongjoong and Seonghwa look at each other and Mingi tries not to throw a tantrum. 

They end up staying the night. Mingi, even though the logical part of his brain argues that it’s perfectly justified, is angry at them for not trusting him to stay away from attempting again. He’s got his fucking meds, he’s fine. He’s fine. 

But, as he spends more time without Yunho, he begins to grow forgetful. His head feels like it’s been filled with cotton and he finds himself forgetting shifts and food and groceries and medications. He doesn’t pick up but he promises to call back. And then he forgets. He forgets his appointment with Namjoon and receives an email from the man. Mingi promises he’s fine and explains that his week has simply been busy. 

(The truth is, though, that, without Yunho, without any sort of boyfriend, Mingi isn’t anything. Mingi isn’t anyone. He’s useless, broken, empty - no wonder none of those boyfriends stayed very long. And now Yunho’s another name on that list.)

He can’t bring himself to block Yunho. Mingi is pathetic, don’t worry, he knows, but he just . . . he just thinks it feels too permanent. 

yunho

Yesterday 17:04

Can we meet up to talk on Friday? Maybe the diner near your place?

Today 1:23

ok

Mingi stares at the bright light of the screen. He doesn’t know why he’s responding now. Yunho’s probably forgotten about the message. And, even if he hasn’t, it’s rude of Mingi to reply at such a strange time. But he’s found that he’s usually awake at the earlier, quieter hours of the day, sleeping the rest of it away. Well, Mingi supposes lying in bed and contemplating his existence isn’t exactly ‘sleeping’ but his thoughts are cut up by spontaneous depression naps, so he thinks he could basically call it all that. 

Mingi sighs heavily and turns his phone off, rubbing his eyes and smushing his glasses against his face. It hurts but he can’t say he minds. Not a lot bothers Mingi now. 

He ends up getting a response from Yunho around five in the morning, though he doesn’t respond until noon. He’s tired, far too tired to try and hold any sort of conversation with anyone. But, like the traitor it is, Mingi’s heart does a little happy dance in his chest at the thought of seeing Yunho again. 

The week moves slowly but Mingi can’t stop his building excitement. And, soon enough, it’s Friday. 

He heads out and finds a table to sit down at, idly tapping his toes and checking his phone. He gets a coke and looks around, chewing on his lower lip. Yunho isn’t even outside and Mingi knows his shift is over by now. So where is he?

The clock continues to tick and the seat across from Mingi remains empty. He got a booth for no reason other than he likes the feeling of them, but sitting alone is making his stomach churn and it’s not nearly as fun. He checks his phone and even goes through the app, yet Yunho still hasn’t texted him. He contemplates messaging the man himself before shaking his head. No, he doesn’t want to seem desperate. He’s needy enough, isn’t he? 

(Sang-Hoon hated when he texted him a lot. He also preferred the tables that weren’t hidden from view. Mingi still isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t like dwelling on such things. Yeosang told him that they’re not healthy for his moving on.)

Mingi sighs and rests his chin on his hand, doing a sweep of the restaurant. He cranes his neck to try and see if Yunho’s headed over. But he doesn’t even see his car, and Mingi grows more nervous. 

“Excuse me, are you Jihyun-ssi?” a woman says to him and Mingi looks up from his still-full drink. 

“Oh, no, sorry,” he says. He points at another table, one where a young man sits. “Maybe that’s him?” The woman smiles at him and nods, but the pity in her eyes couldn’t be more obvious. Mingi swallows hard and takes another sip from his coke before checking his phone again. 

Several people come up to him and ask if he’s their date or if they can sit with him. Mingi turns all of them down and tries to point the confused people in the right direction. He sees several couples leave together, so he supposes he’s not half-bad. 

(He remembers, distantly, that he and Sang-Hoon met in a similar situation. Sang-Hoon was waiting for his date and Mingi had shyly asked if he could sit with him. They’d exchanged numbers when they’d left and the rest is a very painful bit of history that Mingi would rather not recall.)

If only I could be as good at relationships as I am when it comes to guessing shit like that, he thinks as he spins the ice cubes in his cup around with his straw. He sighs. 

“Sir?” a waitress says. 

“Just a little longer?” Mingi says. “I’m sorry, I’m just - it’s really important to me.”

She frowns at him but nods before walking off. Mingi watches as she whispers to her coworkers and his head spins. He checks his phone again and bites his lip, drumming his nails on the table. 

He texts Hongjoong and Seonghwa and asks if they can come after nearly an hour and a half of waiting for Yunho. He’s thankful when neither of them asks any questions. 

It isn’t long before the couple arrives, apologizing profusely for ‘being late’. Mingi forces a laugh out and smiles as they order, a false sense of relief washing over him. He can’t stop himself from looking wistfully out the window, though, the entire time they eat. 

“Hey, Mingi-yah,” Seonghwa says as they all walk to the car, “do you want to come and see a movie with us? It might be nice-” 

“No, I’m okay,” Mingi says. He shakes his head and sighs. “Just kinda . . . sad that he didn’t show up.” 

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Hongjoong says confidently, just the way he did when Mingi finally got away from Sang-Hoon. It’s a bit hard to take him seriously when he’s wearing an oversized shirt that hangs off of his shoulder and he’s nearly fifteen centimeters shorter than Mingi, but he manages to get some respect. 

“It - It’s fine, guys,” Mingi says, waving his hand and looking away from them. “I’ll be fine. Go and have fun. I don’t want to get in the way of your date night.” 

“Are you sure?” Hongjoong says. Mingi nods and the smaller man grabs his hands. “Mingi-yah, you know it’s okay, right? We love you.” 

“I’m probably going to call Wooyoung or something and ask if he wants to go out to the club or something,” Mingi says. 

“Are you sure?” Hongjoong says again. “Maybe you should get some rest.” 

Mingi shakes his head and forces a smile. It feels believable at least. “Really, Hyungs, I’m fine. I just need some partying.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow and Hongjoong snorts. 

“Please, never say that again,” he says. Mingi grins at him and Hongjoong smiles back, but his eyes are still full of worry. “Are you really sure? You know, you can always call us. Make sure not to drink too much and that you don’t drive while drunk. Not that you have a car to do so, but make sure to bring someone with you who’s going to stay sober, okay?”

Mingi laughs and ruffles Hongjoong’s hair, drawing an angry protest from the older as he begins to walk off. He waves over his shoulder and watches as they drive off. 

He pulls out a few things from college. The faux leather short-shorts are a bit of a tight fit and the fishnets are pretty itchy at first, but Mingi manages. He tucks his shirt into them (only the front, though) and he grabs a pair of Doc Martens. Wooyoung and San are waiting for him out front and he waves as he gets into the car. 

“Cute, cute,” Wooyoung says, looking over at him. Mingi laughs loudly even if it feels and sounds a bit forced. San and Wooyoung share a pretty subtle and very worried look, though no one says anything. 

It isn’t long before they get there. Already, Mingi can hear the sound of the bass from one of those new pop songs and he feels a bit shaky on his feet as he gets out. San and Wooyoung both have their IDs and Mingi gets his own, though they aren’t checked too well. Mingi slides onto a barstool and watches as his friends go to dance. 

He’ll admit, he gets a tipsy a lot faster than he probably should. But that’s what you do when you suffer a breakup as bullshit as this one, right? And then, Mingi is pushing himself away from the bar to go dance. 

Much to his surprise, he begins to have fun. It’s been a pretty long time since he last went to a club like this and he’d forgotten how enjoyable it was. Here, he’s just another nameless face in the crowd. And, for some reason, he likes the thought. 

“Hey,” someone breathes in Mingi’s ear. He stops and turns around, staring at the man. He’s tall, taller than Mingi, with a sharp jaw. His nose is a bit like Hongjoong’s and his eyes are big. His smile looks seductive and his hands are big as they come to rest on Mingi’s hips. He finds himself looping his arms around his neck even though he’s far from into it. Nonetheless, Mingi finds himself dancing against the guy. 

They kiss, and Mingi feels awful. He can taste something fruity and bitter plus a cigarette or two. Yunho tasted sweet and a bit salty. Mingi can’t remember any cigarettes, though he’s kissed Yunho a few times while they were both drunk. And sure, he was rough sometimes, but he didn’t make Mingi feel irrelevant to him. He didn’t make Mingi feel as if he was some sort of plaything to be discarded in the morning. 

And suddenly, Mingi finds himself missing Yunho a whole lot more. He wants to go home and to be wrapped up in blankets and called ‘princess’ because Mingi likes being spoiled. He wants to scramble eggs while Yunho makes toast and he wants to sit on the ground and watch dramas and movies while eating fried chicken and drinking old soda or cheap beer. 

“I’m sorry,” he stutters out, pushing the man away. “I’m just - no, not tonight,” he says. He walks away, feeling much more sober, texting San and Wooyoung that he’s leaving. He calls a taxi and heads home, locking the door behind him. 

Reasons to Stay

Mingi doesn’t even bother to untie his shoes as he walks into the bathroom. He should probably take some hangover pills or drink some water or something even though he’s really not that drunk. Mingi still finds himself reaching into the medicine cabinet, though. His hand, however, closes around a bottle of sleeping pills. 

He calls his mother not long after taking them. 

“Eomma,” he says shakily as he sits on his bed. “Eomma, I love you. Is Appa there?” 

“Mingi-yah, what is it? Are you okay?” his father asks from the other end of the line. Mingi swallows hard as the tears well up in his eyes. 

“Eomma, Appa, I really do love you, you know that, right? You know that none of this - that none of the stuff you did ever hurt me, right? That I love you guys and I’m so happy I’m your son?” 

“Mingi-yah, sweetie, ” his mother says and Mingi shudders as a sob racks through him. 

“Eomma, Appa, I love you so much,” he whispers hoarsely, clutching his chest. 

“Mingi- ”

“I really tried, I swear,” he says. “I really did try to stop myself. It’s so hard, though. It hurts so much.”

“Soyeon-ah, call the ambulance!” his father yells and Mingi sobs. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says weakly. “I’m sorry, I’m too weak, I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.”

“Stay on the phone, okay, Mingi-yah?” his father says. “Please, please, don’t hang up. Keep talking to me. Tell me about your day, please.”

“Appa!” Mingi sobs into the silence of his apartment. “Appa, it’s so hard. Why is it so hard?” 

“It’s going to be okay, I promise. Deep breaths, how do you feel?”

“I just wanted to - I wanted to break free,” Mingi tries to explain. “I wanted - he still controls me, Appa, even though we can’t see it. He’s not gone and I don’t want to live a life where he owns me like that. It’s not - it hurts too much. I just - I’m sorry, Appa. I’m so sorry.”

“Mingi-yah, it’s going to be okay. Jagiya, did you call them? You have the address, don’t you?”

“Appa, Eomma, I love you,” Mingi says. He squeezes the phone as he begins to get dizzy. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” 

“Stay awake, just a little longer, okay? Your mother called your friends, they’re on their way, don’t worry. Just keep talking to me, okay?”

“Mingi?” a voice says. It’s coming from outside of Mingi’s apartment. 

Yunho?

Mingi stands on shaky feet and walks over to the door. 

“Appa,” he murmurs as he gets closer, “I feel - I feel really - really dizzy.” 

“Mingi-yah, what did you eat for breakfast? What did you have for lunch? How are you feeling?” 

“I think-” Mingi hiccups and his knees wobble, “-I think it’s starting to - starting to kick in.” 

“Are you there?” 

“Keep talking, keep talking. It’s your Eomma, now. What do you want me to make the next time I come over? Hm? More chicken? You’ve always loved chicken, haven’t you?”

“Sounds . . . sounds nice,” Mingi slurs. He paws at the door handle as his knees finally give out and he falls to the ground, his eyes closing. 

He wakes up with a tube in his mouth and he begins to scream. He thrashes wildly but it’s not of much use as his bones feel tired and, to be honest, a bit useless. He begins to hyperventilate as he looks around the room and finds it to be full of unfamiliar faces. He gags as the tube is shifted and feels tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Song Mingi-ssi, please, calm down,” a nurse says, resting her hand on Mingi’s arm. Mingi writhers in bed and coughs, his throat burning as he continues to cry. His pants feel wet. 

He ends up passing out again. When he wakes up the second time, he’s lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling. He has a heart monitor but not an IV, and Mingi is quick to decide that he hates the beeping. It’s slow and steady, probably different from when he overdosed. 

God, he really tried it again, didn’t he? Now he’ll definitely be sent to a hospital. 

Mingi sighs heavily and blinks a few times. He decides to take his contacts out and he squishes them between his fingers. He probably drops one on the ground and the other is placed on the little table by his bed. He changes them daily, so he thinks it’s fine. 

He lies in bed for around thirty minutes or so before a nurse comes in. His name is Choi Beomgyu and, dizzily, Mingi thinks back to Jongho. This, of course, leads to him thinking about Yunho. 

“Can I have my glasses?” Mingi says. He blinks a few times. “I can’t really see anything.” 

Beomgyu hums and hands something to him. Mingi puts his glasses on and he looks around the room, finding he likes it even less when he can see. The goofier side of him is tempted to simply not say anything and hand the glasses back, but, instead, Mingi takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. He sighs heavily. 

“Are they sending me to a psychiatric hospital?” he says raspily. 

He hears papers being shuffled or something. Flipped through, maybe?

“Well,” the nurse says, “this is your second attempted suicide, correct?” 

Mingi hums. 

“The doctor is consulting your parents and psychologists,” Beomgyu says gently, “but it’s something you should look out for.” 

Mingi nods. “Dr. Kim might not know as much as Dr. Kang. I only just started seeing him.” 

The nurse hums and smiles at Mingi. It’s a nice smile, but Mingi doesn’t feel enough to say anything or smile back. 

“Your parents are here,” he says. “Would you like them to come in?” 

“I don’t know,” Mingi says. He doesn’t want to have to deal with the sad, heartbroken looks they’d given him again. He really just wants to be alone. 

“They’re pretty worried about you,” Beomgyu says. His voice is gentle and soft. 

“Is my brother here?” Mingi mumbles. 

“Your - your brother?” Beomgyu says. He sounds surprised and Mingi nods. 

“He moved to America and cut off contact with our family,” Mingi says. “I’m gay, you know, and he didn’t think that was okay, so he decided to move to America, though I can’t really remember why. It was when I was eighteen or something, I don’t know. I miss him, though. I want to see him again.” 

“I - I’m sorry to hear that,” Beomgyu says. Mingi hums and nods. 

“Can they come in but not say anything?” he says. “My parents?” 

“Of course,” Beomgyu says before leaving. Mingi sighs and closes his eyes. He’s so tired. 

When the door opens again, Mingi’s eyes are still closed. He opens one of them to look at his parents as they sit down.

“Mingi-yah,” his mother says, trying to sound scolding, “how are you feeling?”

Mingi hums an answer and sighs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is raspy from the tube shoved down his throat. “I’m really sorry.” 

“Mingi-yah, stop apologizing,” his mother says. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I really did try, though,” he says. “I tried to get over him but it still hurts so much .” He clenches his fists by his sides and scrunches his face up, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. 

“You’re so strong, Mingi-yah,” his father says. Mingi stifles a sob and shakes in places. “We’re so proud of you and how far you’ve come.” 

“I just want some - I want my life back,” Mingi says weakly. “It’s not - it’s not fair.” 

“We know,” his mother says. “We know.” 

Mingi will be staying in the hospital for a few days before he’s transferred. His parents and friends are sweeping his apartment to make sure there isn’t anything left for him to try with. They’re trying to find him a roommate, but Mingi feels sick at the notion. 

Meanwhile, Namjoon comes and sits with him for an hour a day after he wakes up. Mingi tells him to ask Yeosang about his relationship with Sang-Hoon or to look in the lower-left drawer of his desk. His parents and friends can probably explain it too. 

“But Mingi-ssi,” Namjoon says, leaning forward, “I want to know what happened from your perspective.” 

Mingi feels his defenses building up. 

“I was a stupid fucking idiot,” he spits. “I didn’t see the red flags and I’m paying for it. That’s all there is to it. I was stupid and I fell into a trap.” 

“First of all, you aren’t stupid for being a victim of abuse,” Namjoon says. His eyes are soft and kind. They beckon Mingi forward and offer guidance that’s probably helpful. Mingi isn’t sure if that’s true. 

“Maybe - Maybe I deserved it,” Mingi says. He sniffles. “He was just - he cared about me so much. He loved me and I just . . . I didn’t . . .”

Mingi sighs and stares at his hands. He knows he’s being ridiculous, yes, but he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t left Sang-Hoon. Maybe if he’d been a little more compliant, a little quieter, a little more careful, Sang-Hoon wouldn’t have hurt him as much as he did. 

Maybe Mingi’s just unlucky. 

“Yah, yah,” Namjoon says, shaking his arm, “look at me.” 

Mingi obeys. Namjoon’s eyes, just as before, are soft and gentle. But there’s also a sort of understanding there, something that tells Mingi Namjoon understands a lot more than he thinks. 

“Mingi-ssi,” Namjoon says, “there is absolutely nothing you could’ve done. It was either you or him and, in the end, you made the right decision. He’s far away from you now. You’re safe from him.” 

Mingi hugs himself and sobs. 

Safe, safe, safe, Yunho is safe, Yunho is safe, he’s warm, he’s nice, he cares, he loves you, he’s safe. Safe, safe, safe, Yunho. Yunho, Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong anymore,” Mingi says. “But he just - he still controls me. I can’t-” he grabs at the air, his fists clenching and unclenching, “-I can’t get rid of him. I - why can’t I get rid of him? I want to get rid of him!” 

Namjoon looks at him pityingly as he reaches out and squeezes Mingi’s hand. 

“You need to forgive yourself first,” he says softly. “If there’s anywhere you should start, it’s there. You need to understand that you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the victim here. Don’t be mad at yourself. Get mad at Sang-Hoon, okay? Get mad at the people who should’ve stopped him, get mad at the world for forcing you through that. But you never did anything wrong, okay? Maybe you argued and maybe he said things and so did you, but, in the end, he’s the one who hit you. Mingi-ssi, he hit you. He hit you. ” 

“I never told Yeosang about that night,” Mingi says. He’s staring at his hands. “The night I went to - the night I left.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Namjoon says. Mingi shrugs and picks at his hospital blanket. 

“I should, shouldn’t I?” he says tiredly. His shoulders slump. “It’s useful information.” 

~

Mingi opens the apartment door and puts the bag of takeout on the table. He drops the keys nearby and calls for his boyfriend, though he receives no answer. Mingi kicks his shoes off and walks over to the bedroom because he hears voices. 

In a way, Mingi’s naïvete is to blame. He finds himself walking toward the door even though he knows the voices couldn’t possibly mean something good. He probably should’ve put thought into it, but he opens the door anyway. 

He’s happy that they’re at least decent, but the sight of his boyfriend kissing someone else is still something that makes Mingi shriek loudly in anger. Sang-Hoon and the boy on the bed with him both look over, though their expressions are wildly different. While the boy has wide, scared eyes, Sang-Hoon’s expression is smug. Mingi hates that he knows why. 

“I’ll show you out, Hoobae,” he says to the boy before leading him out. Mingi gawks at them and continues to stand in the doorway of the bedroom. 

However, when he hears the apartment door close, Mingi snaps. He storms into the bedroom and grabs a suitcase to fill with someone’s things. He’s not sure whether he wants them to be his or Sang-Hoon’s. He opens one of the drawers and then slams it shut. 

“What the fuck?!” he demands as he whips around to face his boyfriend. Sang-Hoon is still so unfairly calm and it makes Mingi grow angrier. He pants and clenches his fists, his teeth gritted together. “Who the fuck was that?” 

“Now, Mingi-yah,” he says calmly, “let’s talk about this, hm?” 

Mingi shakes his head. He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. He’s known Sang-Hoon’s been cheating on him for months now and it’s about time he snapped. 

“No,” he says. He glares and grabs a drawer that’s full of mostly Sang-Hoon’s clothes, then he dumps its contents into the open suitcase. “Get out!” he yells. “Get out of my room, out of my house - get out of my life!”

Sang-Hoon narrows his eyes and stalks forward. Mingi’s chest heaves. A hand comes to grip his jaw and Mingi glares. 

“You won’t leave and neither will I,” Sang-Hoon says. He lets go of Mingi’s jaw and steps back, smirking. “You’re nothing without me.” 

Mingi ignores him and dumps Sang-Hoon’s stuff out of the suitcase, as the man wants. However, when he replaces it with his own things, he knows the blow is coming. 

Mingi cries out as Sang-Hoon slaps him across the face. It’s not the first time his boyfriend has hit him, yet Mingi continues to be surprised. Because Mingi is dumb and stupid and he has practically no sense of self-preservation. 

“Get away from me!” Mingi yells as he scrambles away, tripping over clothes and getting tangled in them as he tries to escape. Sang-Hoon looms over him and Mingi feels his heart pound in his chest. 

A kick is landed against his stomach. Mingi whimpers and clutches his middle, curling in on himself. Another hit is delivered to his head, though Mingi manages to turn his back. Of course, Mingi’s back problems take the brunt of it, and Mingi yowls in pain. 

“You can’t leave me, Mingi-yah,” Sang-Hoon hisses through clenched teeth. “You won’t leave me. You wouldn’t want my blood on your hands, would you?” 

Mingi tries to get up. His stomach and back ache and cry out in protest as he stumbles toward the door. 

“Get away from me,” he warns, his voice shaking. “Get away!” 

Sang-Hoon gets closer and Mingi finds himself turning around and dashing toward the door. However, a greedy hand grabs the back of his shirt and tugs. Mingi gags as he falls, coughing as he looks up at Sang-Hoon. The man seems to have done a complete 180 as he runs toward Mingi and crouches down. 

“Are you okay?” he says. “Mingi-yah, don’t do that anymore. I told you to stop making me angry because then I have to hurt you. You can’t make me angry, baby.” 

Mingi coughs again and flinches as Sang-Hoon rests his hand on his shoulder. He whimpers pathetically and shakes his head, and the gentle touch of the hand grows harsh as he grabs a fistful of Mingi’s red hair. 

“Don’t run from me,” he snarls. “You’re not the one at risk. Don’t play the victim here!” 

Mingi fumbles around and finds his phone. Sang-Hoon sees and suddenly he kicks Mingi in the chest. The other man falls back as the breath is knocked out of his lungs, his head colliding with the hard tile of the kitchen floor. Mingi sees stars and he clutches the back of his skull, using his free hand to drag him away from Sang-Hoon. The other man looms over him and Mingi tries to find his phone. He manages to dodge under Sang-Hoon’s legs and his hand closes around the device. His hands tremble as he picks it up. 

“Don’t do it, Mingi!” 

Mingi looks over and his eyes widen when he sees Sang-Hoon with one of their kitchen knives clenched in his fist. 

“Sang-Hoon-Hyung, please,” Mingi begs. The phone falls from his hand and lands beside him. “Please don’t do that, please.” He bends down and holds his hands up, pressed together in a motion begging for forgiveness. There’s a maniacal cackle in response as Mingi shudders. 

There’s the sound of something breaking, leading to Mingi looking over. His eyes grow wide with fear when he sees his phone with the screen covered in an expansive spider web of cracks. He looks up at Sang-Hoon and feels a flash of bittersweet relief when he finds the knife to be gone. However, the relief is gone as a foot collides with his face. 

The blood gushes from Mingi’s nose like Niagra fucking Falls. His hands swoop under in a feeble attempt to stop some of it, yet the sanguine liquid pours steadily as it splashes on the once-pristine white tiles of the kitchen floor. He looks up at Sang-Hoon before scrambling back even more, his breath coming and going in short, quick gasps. 

“You won’t leave me, will you, Mingi-yah?” Sang-Hoon says as he crouches down and grabs Mingi’s chin. He’s too scared to respond as the blood from his nose continues to pour, staining his clothes. 

“Please,” he whispers. The knife appears, suddenly and nearly out of thin air. Sang-Hoon rubs his thumb against Mingi’s cheekbone and Mingi releases a pitiful whimper, shutting his eyes tight as the cold metal of the knife’s blade presses gently against his cheek. 

“I could kill you, you know,” Sang-Hoon says softly. “If I killed you and then took my own life, you’d never be able to leave. What if I did that, Mingi?” 

Mingi chokes on a sob as the blade presses harder against the delicate skin of his cheek. The blood from his nose is still coming, though it’s a little more subdued. 

“Please,” he says raspily. “Please, I don’t wanna die.” 

Sang-Hoon laughs cruelly. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says. His grip on Mingi’s chin moves to his cheeks and tightens. “Open your eyes, bitch.” 

Mingi pries them open and stares fearfully at his boyfriend. His vision is clouded with tears. 

“You don’t get to make that decision,” Sang-Hoon hisses. Mingi sobs and covers his mouth with his hand, shaking his head. The knife breaks his skin and Mingi can’t even cry at the sting. The blood drips down and paints the blade scarlet, sliding over Mingi’s skin. 

“Please,” Mingi begs. He shakes as another sob racks through him. “Please, Hyung, this isn’t you.” 

“You won’t leave me, then?” Sang-Hoon says. Mingi shuts his eyes and nods quickly. The knife falls with a clatter. Sang-Hoon’s hands grow gentle as he wipes the blood off of Mingi’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby, please, forgive me,” he says. 

Mingi doesn’t say anything as he cries, blood still dripping from his cheek. Sang-Hoon hugs him close but his embrace feels suffocating. Mingi, however, knows that the knife is much closer to his boyfriend, so he remains and suffers in silence. He’s done it for years, what’s a little longer, anyway?

However, as he lies beside Sang-Hoon, his cheek bandaged, Mingi contemplates calling the police. He ends up unplugging the man’s phone and sneaking into the bathroom, locking the door behind him after hiding all of the knives in the kitchen. 

“119, what’s your emergency?” the voice says from the other end. 

Mingi bites his hand to keep from sobbing too loudly. 

“Excuse-”

“Help me,” Mingi begs. “Help me, please. He’s going to kill me, I’m begging you.” 

“Okay, sir, we’re going to need some information. Do you know where you are?”

“His apartment. We - in Seoul. In - in Gangnam. We’re in Gangnam, help me, please, he’s-”

“MINGI!” 

Mingi curls up in the bathtub. He’s thankful for the curtains hiding him. 

“Sir? Do you-”

“No, I don’t, no, I don’t know the address,” Mingi says frantically. His heart pounds in his chest as the banging against the door gets louder. “He’s outside, he’s outside, please, please, I don’t wanna die!” 

“SONG MINGI, YOU’D BETTER HANG UP THE FUCKING PHONE BEFORE I HAVE TO MAKE YOU!” 

“Hurry!” Mingi says. His hands are shaking and he can hear the woman on the other end typing something. “Please, please!” 

“We’re on our way. Is there anyone injured, sir?”

“My face, he cut me-”

There’s a sudden crash and Mingi feels his heart stop. He screams as Sang-Hoon rushes in. The phone falls as Sang-Hoon wraps his hands around Mingi’s throat. 

“Stupid bitch!” he yells as he chokes the younger man. Mingi gasps and claws at the grip around his neck, kicking his feet. It’s to no avail, though, as Sang-Hoon straddles him and sits on his thighs. Mingi digs his nails into his skin and he feels Sang-Hoon’s blood dripping from his arms. 

“Sang-Sang-Hoon!” he gasps. “Please!” 

Sang-Hoon furrows his brow as he continues to choke Mingi, the younger man gasping and writhing beneath him. 

Black spots begin to cloud his vision and Mingi feels frustrated tears welling up in his eyes. In a final power surge, he raises his fists and slams them against Sang-Hoon’s skull as hard as possible. 

Amazingly, it gets the man off of him. Mingi grabs his phone and stumbles out of the bathroom, rushing toward the door. A hand grabs his pants leg and Mingi trips, his jaw hitting the floor and blood exploding in his mouth. He isn’t deterred as he tugs himself free and hears a rip, running to the door. 

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Sang-Hoon yells. And Mingi’s fingertips brush the door handle as a hand grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks so hard he sees stars. Mingi screams as he’s dragged away from freedom, clawing desperately at Sang-Hoon’s arm. 

“Please,” he says. “Please, let go of- mmph!” A hand presses over Mingi’s mouth and his words are muffled. Desperation and the need to survive win out and he opens his mouth, sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of Sang-Hoon’s palm. The man yells in surprise and maybe even pain but Mingi’s head is spinning and he’s dashing toward the door. However, he trips over a shirt on the ground and falls, his face colliding with the hardwood floor. 

And then, everything goes black. And the next time Mingi wakes up, he’s lying in a hospital bed with an IV connected to his wrist as his heart monitor beeps loudly and angrily with every beat to let him know he’s still alive. 

The first thing he does is have a panic attack. The nurses and doctors come in and hold him down as he screams and thrashes in bed, kicking his legs as tears roll down his cheeks in endless streams. It takes an hour to calm him down, and that’s with the use of sedatives. 

~

Namjoon stares at him, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. Mingi huffs and offers a bitter smile. 

“So that’s the most traumatic event of my life,” he says, his voice hollow and joking. Namjoon controls his face as he puts his pad down and crosses his legs. 

“And you got a restraining order against Sang-Hoon?” he says calmly. Mingi nods. 

“Yeah,” he says. He grabs a strand of hair and plays with it. “I dyed this mess too. Just to feel like I could control something in my life.” 

Namjoon nods. “Good, good. That’s a good place to start. When was that?” 

“A few months ago. The red was fading anyway.” 

Namjoon hums as he sits back in the chair and sighs. 

“Do you happen to know anything about what happened to Sang-Hoon afterwards?” he says, his voice careful and gentle. 

Mingi stiffens and clenches his fists where they rest on his thighs. 

“Not really,” he says. He shrugs. “I know he went to a hospital. And that I have around a year and a half left on my restraining order.” 

“How long ago was this?” Namjoon says. 

Mingi shrugs. 

“I was maybe . . . eighteen when we started dating? But I got that filed a year or so later. Two years, actually. I was twenty. Or nineteen, I can’t remember.” 

Namjoon nods. He smiles at Mingi, then, his eyes crinkling in the corners. 

“Thank you, Mingi-ssi,” he says. “Thank you.” 

Mingi is transferred after three days in the hospital. The head doctor is a kind man named Min Yoongi and his husband (they got married in Taiwan), Jimin, is the head nurse. They welcome Mingi and show him to his room, happily introducing him to the other patients as they show him around. 

He has lots of visitors. Seonghwa and Hongjoong make the thirty-minute drive nearly every day while his parents are staying in his apartment. They come as often as they can, calling him to let him know when they’re unable to. Wooyoung and San visit, as do Yeosang and Jongho. 

Stupidly, Mingi sits and waits for Yunho. He stares out the window and watches the parking lot for Yunho’s car, chewing anxiously on his lower lip. He has plenty of things to pass the time, yet Mingi finds himself unable to touch them as he awaits the other man. 

“Jongho-yah,” he says, still looking out the window, “is . . . is your brother okay?” 

Jongho looks at him and blinks a few times. His hair is now bright red. It looks nice. Yeosang’s gone platinum blond. 

“He misses you if that’s what you’re wondering,” Jongho says. He sighs. “He’s going through a rough time, though. Eomma and Appa - they cut me off a couple of years ago. Yunho-Hyung was my only support. And, because we both needed money, he decided to keep himself hidden deep in the closet.” Jongho sighs again and shakes his head. “Obviously, our parents imparted some of their views on us. Just . . . Hyung took the brunt of it. And he doesn’t - he doesn’t really know how to break away from that.”

Mingi nods. He then opens the drawer of his bedside table and takes out a piece of paper. 

“Here,” he says. “I don’t have a phone, so could you give this to him? I just miss him too.”

Jongho nods and slides the note into his pocket. Yeosang reaches forward and squeezes Mingi’s hand. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, smiling softly. “You’re doing great.” 

Mingi nods. He knows. He just misses Yunho. 

The next time they visit, Jongho has a message from Yunho recorded on his phone. 

“Here,” he says, handing the device to Mingi. “I thought it’d be best if you listened to it alone, so that’s why we took you on a walk. Don’t worry; we’ve asked the nurses to make sure no one bothers you.” 

Mingi nods and smiles up at him. He watches as Yeosang and Jongho walk away, waiting until they’re out of earshot before pressing play. 

“Hey, princess,” Yunho says. His voice sounds nervous and Mingi giggles to himself. “Ah, I hope you’re still okay with that nickname. It’s just a habit, I guess.” Yunho sighs and Mingi brings his knees up to rest on the bench. 

“I miss you,” he says. “I miss you a whole lot and I probably shouldn’t be pushing my luck here because you really didn’t have to send me a letter or anything. It really made my entire week, you know? Maybe - actually, no. Probably my entire month, to be honest.” Yunho sucks in a breath and Mingi can almost see him sitting beside him, his arm wrapped around his shoulders. “Life’s been pretty shitty without you, but who cares? You’re still thinking about me, so that’s gonna get me through this. Ah, shit, I can see Jongho laughing at an old photo album. Probably gonna get made fun of until I yell at them or something. Eh, it’s whatever.

“I owe you an explanation, though. Who knows, maybe Jongho already did it for me, but, right now, I feel like you deserve to hear it from me.” Yunho pauses and Mingi shifts around. 

“My parents cut Jongho off around six or seven years ago,” he says. “I was either seventeen or eighteen, one of the two, while Jongho was sixteen or seventeen. My parents never checked my account except to transfer money in, so that’s how I took care of him. It was a lot harder to talk to him, though, because I still lived with my parents.” Yunho sighs. “It’s gotten easier since I moved out, but, as you can see, I’m still under their influence. Well, I was cut from their will a few days ago, so I guess it’s not as powerful or whatever.”

Mingi finds himself giggling as he changes his position. 

“But that’s not really an excuse, is it?” Yunho asks. “I mean, what I did that day was a whole load of bullshit. You don’t - you deserve the world, Mingi, and I - I was afraid. I still am because, to be honest, this is the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a guy. The longest relationship I’ve ever had in my life. But I want - I want to try to be something with you. If you’ll have me, of course.” 

Mingi smiles softly and Yunho clears his throat. 

“I’ll - if you want, I’ll come and visit you. Only if it’s okay, but - but I really don’t mind. Not at all. It’s whatever’s best for you.” He pauses and seems to think for a moment. “I love you, Mingi.”

Mingi’s smile widens as the recording ends. 

“I love you too,” he says. “I love you too.” 

It takes a very long time for Mingi to get better. He gets out of the hospital after several months. The day he does, it’s raining and the autumn chill is cruel as it runs over him. Mingi walks out and looks around, finding Yunho standing outside with an umbrella. He’s grinning, a large, brown sweater wrapped around his neck and nearly covering his face. His cheeks are tinted pink from the cold and the tips of his ears are red, yet he looks as if he couldn’t be happier. 

Mingi runs at him and kisses him as passionately as he can. Yunho uses one hand to steady him as the other clutches the umbrella to protect them from the rain. Mingi throws his arms around his neck and presses himself as close to Yunho as possible, shutting his eyes and smiling into the kiss as tears roll down his cheeks. 

“Yunho,” he says when they pull apart. Yunho grins and reaches up to wipe his eyes. Mingi grabs his hand and presses it against his cheek, closing his eyes and smiling. 

“I love you,” Yunho says. He leans their foreheads together. “I love you so much, Mingi, and I can’t wait to tell you every day for the rest of our lives.” 

Mingi grins at him. 

“You’d better.” 

Yunho laughs, lacing their fingers together as they walk toward the car, laughing and talking. As they drive off, the hospital fading away into the distance, Mingi can’t help but think that maybe he’s not so unlucky. 

And maybe, just maybe, he’s going to be okay. 

(Spoiler: he is. He’s more than okay because he falls in love with Yunho every day and learns to love his life and himself over and over again until it’s something he does no matter what. And Mingi realizes that he really is a lucky guy.)