as long as it lasts

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/30421899.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: ATEEZ (Band)
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Choi
San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang
Characters: Jeong Yunho, Song Mingi, Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong, Choi San,
Jung Wooyoung, Choi Jongho, Kang Yeosang, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Jeong Yunho-centric, Pining, Denial of Feelings, Coming Out, Self-
Esteem Issues, Homophobia, Friends With Benefits, Forced
Relationship, kind of not really, Angst, Kissing, Falling In Love,
Flowers, Best Friends, Happy Ending, POV Multiple, Song Mingi-
centric, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2021-04-02 Words: 19,382 Chapters: 1/1
 as long as it lasts
by the28thanon

Summary

As long as Yunho and Mingi have each other, everything should be okay, right?

Notes

uhhh at some point mingi is drugged but nothing actually happens just as a heads-up

See the end of the work for more notes

Yunho meets Mingi before he goes into fourth grade. The summer before, to be exact. He and
Mingi are introduced to each other by their mothers, as the two women are friends and
Mingi’s mother, Song Eunji, is nervous about her son because of his anxiety disorder and
how he struggles to get along with other children. Yunho is a happy-go-lucky, extremely
friendly nine-year-old boy, and he’s deemed the perfect candidate.

“Yunho, say hello,” Yunho’s mother, Jeong Mirae, tells him, nudging him toward the other
boy. He has big, thick-framed glasses and long, gangly limbs. His eyes are narrow and his
nose is pointed. His lips are big and he’s skinny, just like Yunho.

“Hi,” Yunho says with a grin, holding his hand out. The other boy glances up at his mother
and then at Yunho, silently having a conversation with her.

“Come on, Mingi-yah, be nice,” Eunji tells her son. Yunho stares at the boy and tilts his head
curiously. Mingi shifts in place before walking forward, shaking Yunho’s hand and avoiding
his eyes.

“You wanna come play on my Wii?” Yunho asks. Mingi looks back at his mother, having yet
another one of those silent conversations. The woman smiles gently at him and nudges him
toward Yunho. Yunho leads Mingi into his house and they sit down together, pulling up the
games.

Yunho and Mingi spend their summer joint at the hip. They do just about everything together,
whether it be biking around the neighborhood, playing video games, or some other activity
they devise. Geonho will tag along when he wants or is allowed to, but Mingi’s older brother,
Jaesoo, makes it clear that he wants nothing to do with them.

“Your older brother’s so mean,” Yunho comments as he and Mingi sit in a tent in Yunho’s
yard. Mingi shrugs.

“He’s always been mean,” he says, avoiding eye contact with Yunho. Yunho hums and scoots
over to rest his head on his shoulder.

“Let me be your older brother,” he mumbles, his eyes already falling shut. Mingi hums in
question, and Yunho can feel it when he turns to look at him.

“What?” he says, laughing a bit. “You wanna be my older brother?”

“I mean, I think I’d be more like a twin since we’re the same age, but sure,” Yunho says. He
sits up, opening his eyes and offering Mingi a little smile. “I’d be happy to be the brother that
stupid Jaesoo can’t be.”

Mingi grins at him, his eyes turning into those little crescents that Yunho has come to admire.
He grins back at Mingi and they hug, falling asleep not long after.

Fourth grade is a strange year. Mingi, as their mothers had whispered about when they’d
moved, is absolutely terrible with social interaction. Yunho takes it upon himself to help
Mingi make friends.
It’s a lot easier said than done. Not only is Yunho stuck with trying to make sure Mingi is
okay with his classes, but he also has to do sports and make sure that everyone leaves Mingi
alone. And people . . . don’t like Mingi. To Yunho, he’s perfectly likable, but Mingi seems to
lag and buffer when he’s in new environments, and he tends to say and do things that people
aren’t used to. Not to mention that, well, Mingi doesn’t really want to be friends with anyone
else.

So, quite inevitably, Mingi and Yunho become . . . well, Mingi and Yunho. They’re joined at
the hip in school since they have most of their classes together and, even outside of that time,
they’re together. They sign up for a dance club together and Mingi begins talking to a few
more people, slowly beginning to branch out. They’re in middle school when it all happens,
and, if Yunho had been told four years ago that this is what would happen, then he’d be
ecstatic. But, as he listens to Mingi talk, he can’t help but notice the ugly twisting of his gut.
He bites his lip and glances at the door.

“I think I want to go to SOPA,” Mingi tells him suddenly. Yunho looks over.

“You wanna go to the idol school?” he asks. “The one in . . . the one in Seoul?”

Mingi nods.

“I - I already applied, actually,” he mumbles, looking away from Yunho and focusing on the
ground. Yunho’s heart leaps into his throat.

“You’re leaving?” he says, his voice a little too small for him to just play it off as something
like surprise.

Mingi shifts awkwardly and nods at him. Yunho stares at him, and then he inwardly pinches
himself and forces a smile.

“Well, I’m sure you’re gonna get in,” he says, trying to mimic his usual chirpiness in his tone.
Mingi, at least, seems to fall for it despite how fake it sounds, and he grins at Yunho as he
begins to talk about how excited he is about going. Yunho nods along like he is too,
pretending that he’s okay, he’s fine, he’s perfectly happy that he’s going to be losing his best
friend.

Yunho ponders his feelings that night as he lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He thinks
about Mingi and his sudden confession about high school, and how they’re probably going to
lose contact once he’s gone.

Because, if he’s being as honest as possible here, the truth of the matter is that Yunho has
known Mingi for four years but he feels like he’s going to vomit at the thought of losing him.
And, in Yunho’s fourteen-year-old brain, he’s come to the conclusion that it’s because he’s
gotten so used to having Mingi around that it’s become a part of his identity. Yunho and
Mingi, two peas in a pod, never one without the other. If Yunho’s somewhere, then it’s more
than likely that Mingi is too. If Mingi thinks one thing, Yunho thinks it too.

He sighs and shakes his head, rolling onto his side and staring at the wall. Yunho shuts his
eyes and bites his lip, trying to hide the thoughts of Mingi leaving well enough that he never
has to think of them again.

They return, however, when Yunho gets a letter in the mail. It’s not from any of the schools
he applied to, but rather from SOPA. Yunho opens it with shaking hands, finding an
acceptance letter to have been hiding in the envelope. He doesn’t get much time to think
about it or wonder how it even got there when he never applied, though, because Yunho’s
phone rings, and the picture that appears tells him that it’s Mingi.

“Yunho!” Mingi cries from the other side of the phone, totally oblivious to the turmoil Yunho
faces. “Guess what!”

“You - you got in, didn’t you,” Yunho says. It’s not even a question.

Mingi goes silent, and Yunho’s heart thunders in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Mingi whispers. Yunho purses his lips and tries to be optimistic. This is good!
He still has Mingi!

“No, don’t be,” Yunho says. He allows himself a smile. “I got in too.”

Mingi shrieks and Yunho has to hold the phone away from his ear as he exclaims his
excitement, though he’s still smiling. He can’t help it; whenever Mingi’s happy, he’s simply
the most infectious person in the entire world. When he’s done, though, he and Yunho get to
talking about packing and rooming together, how they’re going to be alone for the first time
in their lives.

However, later that night, as Yunho lies in bed, he can’t help but wonder. It gets so bad that
he ends up getting out of bed and creeping downstairs.

“Eomma,” Yunho whispers, walking into the kitchen. His mother looks up and smiles.

“Yunho,” she says kindly, “what are you doing up? Don’t you have-”

“Did you sign me up for SOPA?”

Jeong Mirae purses her lips and looks away from her son. Yunho stares at her with wide eyes,
blinking quickly.

“Oh my God,” he whispers. “Oh my God, you actually did it. You had me apply for SOPA.”

“Yunho,” Mirae says softly, “you like dancing. You’d be able to make good money.”

“You didn’t ask me.”

“Mingi needs someone to protect him.”

“I didn’t want to go!” Yunho says. “Eomma! How could you?!”

Mirae sighs.
“Yunho,” she says softly, “Mingi is - Mingi can’t deal with that sort of thing on his own.
Eunji-Unnie and I have both agreed that . . . that you guys have to go together. He can’t - and
Yunho, you care about that boy so much -”

“But I have other friends!” Yunho cries, waving his arms. Mirae shushes him.

“Don’t wake your brother,” she warns, her tone growing dangerous. “Listen to me, Yunho.
That boy is never going to make it on his own, you hear me? You wanna know what his
brother says to him when Eunji-Unnie isn’t there? Do you really want to know what that boy
puts up with when you’re not there? What he put up with before he met you? Hell, Yunho, do
you know what his father did to him?”

Yunho scowls and crosses his arms.

“No,” he spits, “but I think it’s about time that I do. It’s not fair that I suddenly have to take
care of him without knowing why.”

Mirae sighs and rubs her temples, shaking her head.

“All right,” she says. “You’re right. Come on, sit down.”

Yunho walks over cautiously and sits at the kitchen table, watching his mother carefully.

“Eunji-Unnie is a single mother like me, you know that, right?” Mirae asks. Yunho nods.
“And you know that Mingi and Jaesoo don’t get along, don’t you?”

Yunho nods yet again, and he’s already getting tired of this buildup. He knows better than to
rush his mother, though, so he stays quiet.

“Have - you know why your father isn’t here anymore, don’t you?”

“You guys got a divorce and then you won a custody battle against him in court because he
can’t take care of himself. I was alive when it happened.”

“You were six,” Mirae says. She shrugs. “But yeah. That’s what happened. I take it that
Mingi doesn’t talk about his dad?”

Yunho shakes his head.

“Well, and this is Eunjie-Unnie’s version, not Mingi’s, but one day, the year before they
moved here, Mingi and his father went for a drive. His name was Song Seojoon, in case you
were wondering.”

“What happened?” Yunho asks quietly.

“Seojoon was very clinically depressed,” Mirae says, avoiding Yunho’s eyes. “He struggled a
lot with his mental health for a very long time.” She finally looks up at him. “You’re
fourteen, so I’m assuming you know what suicide is, right?”

“Did he-”
“Eunji-Unnie says that he threw the ball or whatever very far away, and that when Mingi
came back, he’d driven the car into a nearby lake.”

Yunho gasps. He can’t help it.

“Listen, Yunho,” Mirae says softly, leaning forward, “this isn’t ideal. None of it ever was. No
one wanted this to happen, but we - just with what happened to Seojoon and Mingi’s own
mental health and the fact that he and Jaesoo both blame him for their father’s death . . .” She
trails off and Yunho looks down at his hands. They’re shaking.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know, now, and I guess I kind of always have.” He shifts
awkwardly and looks up. “I’m just - I’m gonna go back to bed. I have a test tomorrow, you
know.”

Mirae nods at him, and Yunho heads to bed. However, he doesn’t fall asleep until a few hours
later, and he ends up flunking his math test too.

Yunho and Mingi get in the car to be driven to Seoul with their mothers. Geonho and Jaesoo
are coming with them, but they’re in Eunji’s car while Mirae drives Yunho and Mingi. The
drive is long , but both Eunji, Mirae, and Mingi had insisted on not taking the train.

“Goodness, I can’t believe that you two are actually going to high school!” she cries. Yunho
and Mingi both smile and nod, talking about how excited they are.

But, soon enough, the drive ends, and they bid their goodbyes to their mothers and brothers.
And then Yunho and Mingi head to their dorm, putting their things away and getting ready
for whatever’s next.

Life at SOPA is . . . good. It’s monotonous, that’s what it is. But Yunho likes it. He can tell
that Mingi does too, but, recently, it seems like there’s been something wrong with him.

“Hey, Yunho?”

“Hm?”

“You’re, like, queer, right?”

Yunho hums and doesn’t look up from his homework. He hears Mingi shifting around behind
him.

“So, like . . . what do you think about me?”

Yunho chokes and looks up at him.

“What?” he says. “Mingi, what kinda douchey bullshit is-”

“I think I’m gay.”

Yunho, once again, chokes. Mingi twiddles his thumbs and sits with his legs in that criss-
cross applesauce position.
“You think . . . you’re-”

“I like guys,” Mingi says. He shifts awkwardly in his seat. “I just - I’ve been thinking about it
for a while, like, a super long time, and I just . . . I’m - I think I’m gay. I just - I’ve never
thought of, like, girls that way? I look at them and I can - I can admit that they’re attractive,
but it’s just - some - it’s not the same when I see - when I see dudes.” He shrugs a little. “I
mean, I’m just - I think I’m gay. That I’m into guys.”

“And you’re scared of what could happen,” Yunho says. Mingi nods.

“I mean, like, you just . . . you never really came out, you just kinda dated guys and girls, you
know? And I’ve just . . . I just-”

“You’re scared of Jaesoo, aren’t you?” Yunho says. Mingi nods and looks away, continuously
avoiding Yunho’s eyes.

“He doesn’t . . . I mean, we don’t really talk about it at home. Eomma doesn’t seem to care,
but . . .”

Yunho nods.

“Well,” he says, offering Mingi his hand, “I said I’d be your older brother, didn’t I? So even
if that asshole doesn’t accept you, I will. So yeah.”

Mingi looks up at him with wide eyes, blinking a few times. Yunho’s chest twists as they hug,
and he holds tightly onto Mingi, and he hopes that everything will be okay.

In 2015, when Yunho and Mingi are in their sophmore year, they hear about gay marriage
being legalized in the U.S.. They talk about it in their dorm, skirting around the question of
whether or not South Korea will follow. Yunho doesn’t know. At least he and Mingi aren’t
looking for marriage at the moment, especially because in their junior year, Mingi starts
training for some small company that one of his classmates works at.

Kim Hongjoong is a tiny, angry, fiercely open pansexual who hurtles into their lives in their
junior year. Quite literally. Mingi and Yunho are walking around when the other boy crashes
into Mingi, clutz extraordinaire. As they’re picking their things up, Hongjoong looks up and
points at Mingi.

“You!” he says. “You’re that genius kid in the - the one-”

Mingi shushes him and gets up, bolting. Yunho gets up as well, getting ready to follow him,
but a small hand snags his wrist.

“Tell him that I wanna talk. I’m not an asshole, just loud, I swear,” he says, handing Yunho
something. Yunho nods and watches him go, and then he runs after Mingi.

Mingi likes Hongjoong a lot more than Yunho does. It’s obvious to everyone except for
Mingi. Hongjoong and Mingi get along pretty well, and Mingi can talk to Hongjoong about
things like writing lyrics and rapping and making music. Yunho isn’t interested in that stuff,
and Hongjoong is. And Hongjoong is familiar to Mingi, someone he can trust. Yunho just has
to accept that, for the first time since they met, he has to share Mingi.

Sharing Mingi does not come as easily to Yunho as a lot of people seem to think. When he
and his mom are on the phone, she tells him that it’s a good thing. Mingi’s branching out,
isn’t he? Isn’t that what Yunho wanted?

“I wanted it when he found - when I wasn’t there,” Yunho whispers into the phone. Mingi is
showering right now, thank goodness, so Yunho doesn’t have to worry about him overhearing
anything.

“But it’s happening, isn’t it? Naturally. You’re going to get used to it, don’t worry. Then you
can find a nice boy or girl and you won’t have to worry about Mingi because this Hongjoong
person will be taking care of him for you.”

Yunho purses his lips and decides to change the subject by asking about Geonho. He and his
mother talk for a little while longer until Mingi returns and he hangs up. He and Mingi do
their homework together and talk, and Mingi brings up how he’s thinking about becoming an
official trainee. Hongjoong put a good word in for him at the company and they’re giving
Mingi a “trial run” of sorts. Yunho isn’t the biggest fan because, well, it’s just something else
he has to share Mingi with, but he’s happy because he knows how much Mingi wants this.

“You told your mom yet?” Yunho asks, chewing on his pencil eraser. Mingi hums and doesn’t
elaborate, so Yunho lets him stay quiet.

“You wanna go to a pride parade this June?” Mingi asks. Yunho looks over.

“Where’s this coming from?” he says. “Would your company allow it?”

“Hongjoong-Hyung goes to them. Plenty of people have seen him there,” Mingi says,
shrugging. Yunho hums and shrugs back.

“Sure, I don’t care. You wanna go buy stuff after finals?”

Yunho stares at the brightly-colored pansexual pride flag in his hands. Hongjoong is sitting
on Mingi’s bed, talking loudly and endlessly as he paints Mingi’s nails rather meticulously,
scolding him whenever he moves.

“You guys know those things that people always say? About how there aren’t enough gays
around for them to make cliques and stuff?” Hongjoong asks. He looks at them, smiles a little
like they’re all in on the same secret. “I wonder what they think of pride parades.”

“Are they fun?” Mingi asks eagerly. Hongjoong shrugs.

“Depends on who you’re asking,” he says. “I, for one, think they’re great. I took one of my
girlfriends to one, though, and she lost her mind. And, like, we’d talked about it before! She
said she’d be totally fine with it!” He glances over at Yunho, who’s still staring at the flag in
his hands. “I mean, I don’t know if Yunho-ssi has dated anyone and told them about his
sexuality, but people can be real assholes sometimes.” He looks back at Mingi and shrugs a
little. “But yeah. Boys, girls, anyone in between - I’ve been to pride parades with them. My
first partner said I was their gay-ish awakening since they’re, you know, NB and all that, but
it was a nice thing to say. I’m happy they thought I was cute.”

“Are you dating anyone at the moment?” Mingi asks. “What about that senior boy you
thought was cute?”

“I saw him at a party and he was smashed. Disgusting,” Hongjoong says. He and Mingi laugh
as Yunho looks over at them, his stomach twisting. He knows that Hongjoong likes him and
wants to be friends with him, but, honestly, Yunho’s just . . . he gets jealous so easily and
Hongjoong is someone he’s competing with. But he also knows how important it is to Mingi
that they at least become friends. So Yunho will try. Not for himself, and not for Hongjoong,
but only for Mingi.

He and Hongjoong are sitting together in Hongjoong’s dorm bedroom while Mingi changes
in the bathroom. Yunho adjusts his shirt and looks over at the other boy as he scrolls through
his phone, and he can practically see how tense he is.

“How long have you been, uh, in your - under your company?” Yunho asks. Hongjoong looks
up at him and turns his phone off, shrugging and sitting on his hands.

“I dunno. I joined when I got here,” he says. He shrugs again. “I haven’t been able to go to
school a lot, though, so it’s nice to have Mingi around to help me with my assignments.”

Yunho nods. Hongjoong offers him a smile.

“I’ve heard that you help him a lot too,” he says. Yunho nods again, and he tastes something
bitter on the roof of his mouth.

“Do you like him?” Yunho asks before he can think better of it. Hongjoong frowns at him
before he throws his head back and laughs.

“Do I have a crush on Mingi, is that what you’re asking?”

Yunho nods.

Hongjoong snorts and pretends to wipe a tear off of his cheek.

“Oh, God, no,” he says. “Mingi’s my friend. I don’t see him that way. Besides,” he steals a
glance at Yunho, “I know when someone’s off-limits. I’m not one to get between people in
relationships.”

Yunho sputters and gets ready to respond, but then the door opens and someone walks in.

“Oh, Jongho!” Hongjoong cries getting up from his bed and walking over. Jongho ducks
away from him and Hongjoong cackles, chasing the other boy around the room.

“Oh my God, do you see this evil gremlin?” Jongho begs Yunho. “Do you see him? He’s
insane!”
“Aww, don’t be like that. Come on, give Hyung some kisses,” Hongjoong says, making
grabby hands. Jongho scrambles out of the room and Hongjoong lets him go, smiling.

“That’s my roommate,” he says. “He’s also my token straight friend.”

“How old is he?”

“Sophmore,” Hongjoong says. He shrugs. “He’s pretty independent, though. He has two
younger siblings, so, like . . . the guy knows how to take care of himself. He’s nice, and he’s a
great singer. He’s got the voice of an angel.”

“I know you’re talking about me!” Jongho shouts. Hongjoong snorts and shrugs just as Mingi
comes out of the bathroom, looking shy. At eighteen, Mingi has . . . he’s changed. He’s traded
his glasses in for contacts and he’s got a small speckling of acne on his cheeks. Mingi had
asked if Hongjoong could cover it before Hongjoong had offered to put sequins on them, so
now it looks like he’s speckled with little shiny fish scales. There are rainbows painted on his
cheeks and he’s wearing a black tank-top that Hongjoong had made. It reads, “LOVE IS
LOVE” in big letters. Yunho adjusts his shirt awkwardly.

“Let’s go!” Hongjoong cries, grabbing them both by their wrists and dragging them away. He
shouts at Jongho to let him know that they’re leaving before they head out, running out into
the streets of Seoul.

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive. Hongjoong tells them to stay close to him as they
move through the crowd. Hongjoong meets one of his exes and they greet each other with
cheek-kisses, the guy grabbing Hongjoong’s ass as he walks away. Hongjoong blows him a
kiss and waves as they go to get drinks.

“You should probably put your hand in his back pocket,” Hongjoong says without turning
away from the scattered array of pins at one of the little vendors. Yunho, without thinking,
shoves his hand into Mingi’s back jean pocket, his cheeks going bright red. Mingi’s face is
the same color and they avoid eye contact as Hongjoong browses, turning around to attach
little pins to their shirts.

“You guys are such a cute trio!” someone comes up to gush. Hongjoong laughs and waves his
hand.

“I’m not dating them,” he says.

“We’re not dating each other either!” Yunho blurts. Mingi nods quickly but he still won’t
meet Yunho’s eyes as Hongjoong buys them street food to eat while they wander through the
park.

“You guys are of age, aren’t you?” Hongjoong says, grabbing a glass of something and
offering it to them. Yunho sniffs it and shrugs. It smells fruity and they’re both more or less
nineteen, so . . .

“You want me to try it first?” Yunho says, glancing at Mingi. He notices that he’s shifted his
hand out of his back pocket to rest it on his hip, though Mingi hasn’t picked up on it yet.
“Yeah,” Mingi says. He shrugs. “Oldest first, right?”

Yunho nods and brings the glass to his lips, taking a sip. It tastes like orange and something
sweet, as well as the burn of alcohol.

“Damn, bro,” Hongjoong says, patting his shoulder. “You like that? Want me to get Mingi
one?”

“What is it?” Yunho says, smacking his lips.

“Tequila sunrise,” Hongjoong says. He grabs two more and pays, handing the glass to Mingi.
“Don’t drink it too fast. You guys haven’t been hungover before, have you?”

They both shake their heads as Mingi takes a cautious sip. He frowns at the drink and looks
at it, before taking the cherry and pulling it off. Yunho forces himself to look away when he
catches himself bordering on staring. He won’t do it, nope, not now, not ever. Mingi is his
best friend .

Your best friend, says the little voice in his head, who has become a whole lot hotter with
high school.

Yunho gulps and brings his glass back to his lips, shaking his head a little. Hongjoong drags
them through the crowd, getting them food and drinks and laughing as he talks with his
friends and the few exes he meets. Yunho and Mingi follow him like lost puppies.

“Can I have your cherry?” Mingi mumbles from beside him. Yunho looks at the little red fruit
in his glass before wordlessly plucking it out and handing it to him. Mingi holds it between
his teeth and pulls the stem off, his eyes dark as he stares at Yunho.

It’s the alcohol, Yunho thinks to himself as he stares, mesmerized by the way Mingi’s plump
lips seem to devour the thin little stem between them. He swallows dryly and brings his drink
up to his lips, only to find it empty.

“Here,” Mingi says. He grabs an ice cube and brings it to Yunho’s lips, and the sound of
Yunho’s heartbeat gets louder with each passing millisecond. He swallows hard. Mingi stares
at him and nudges his lips with the piece of ice, and it’s refreshingly cold compared to the
heat of June.

“Mingi-” he begins, but Mingi interrupts him by putting the ice cube on his tongue, leaving
his fingers in Yunho’s mouth. He tastes sweet like the maraschino cherries he’s been eating,
mixed in with the salt of his sweat. Yunho swallows around his fingers and-

“That was so fucking gay ,” Hongjoong slurs, clearly drunk as he throws himself at them. He
grins up at the two younger boys. “You guys are so hot .”

“Oh, uh, Hyung, how many drinks do you think you’ve had?” Mingi stammers as he gathers
Hongjoong up. Hongjoong grunts and looks up at them. His face is flushed, probably from a
mix of alcohol and the heat, and his eyes are lidded. His lip gloss is smudged and there’s a
lipstick mark on his neck.
“I feel so - I’m so proud of you guys,” Hongjoong mumbles as Mingi and Yunho guide him
out of the crowd. “I’m just-”

“Wait!”

Both Mingi and Yunho turn around to see someone pushing through the crowd. Their black
hair is styled so half of it is over their face, and they’re wearing a black tank-top like Mingi’s.
On their lips is Hongjoong’s lip gloss, but they’re not wearing any lipstick. They have deep
red contacts on and they’re holding something.

“Who’re you?” Mingi asks. Hongjoong turns around and squeals, throwing his arms around
the stranger’s neck and plastering a kiss to the side of their mouth. They stumble a bit.

“Seonghwa, here,” they say. Yunho notices a little pin on their shirt with the ‘male’ sign on it.
They glance down at Hongjoong. “He’s smashed, isn’t he?”

“More or less,” Yunho says. Seonghwa laughs.

“You guys have a car or anything? I can give you a ride.”

Mingi and Yunho both glance nervously at each other. Hongjoong seems to know this guy,
but, for all they know, he could be mistaking them for someone else.

“How do we know you’re not evil?” Mingi asks. Seonghwa laughs and adjusts his hold on
Hongjoong.

“I doubt anything I do is going to convince you,” he says. He sighs and shakes his head.
“Hongjoong is a friend of mine. We met last summer at a parade and now-”

“We don’t need to know your love story, let’s just go,” Yunho says. He grabs Mingi by the
hand as Seonghwa leads them through the crowd and to the car, putting Hongjoong in the
front. Hongjoong grunts and his head lolls forward as Seonghwa gets into the driver’s seat
and puts Hongjoong’s seatbelt on. Before they leave, though, he gets out a makeup wipe and
begins scrubbing his face, talking to himself.

“Here,” he says, handing them some wipes. “You don’t wanna get caught dressed like that at
night. There are some clothes in the back.”

Mingi and Yunho look at each other as Seonghwa turns and begins to wipe Hongjoong’s
makeup off, having taken his contacts out. His eyes are big and brown and very pretty.

“Where do you guys live?” Seonghwa asks once they’ve all changed. Mingi’s rubbing his
cheeks. Yunho notices the way he tucks each little sequin into his pocket.

“SOPA dorms,” Yunho answers. Seonghwa nods and puts the address Mingi tells him into the
GPS, driving off.

“Here, I’ll carry him,” Seonghwa says. He holds Hongjoong bridal style as Yunho and Mingi
head to their dorm.
“Can I leave him on your couch?” Seonghwa asks. “Do-”

“You should stay,” Yunho says. “We probably won’t be able to take care of him on our own.
And I think he’d want you to.”

Seonghwa purses his lips and glances down at Hongjoong before sighing.

“All right,” he says. He sits down. “I’ll stay. I’m gonna have to go home to make hangover
soup for you guys, though.”

Yunho and Mingi nod, watching awkwardly as Seonghwa cleans Hongjoong up. And then,
quietly so as not to wake Hongjoong up, they both head to bed.

True to his word, Seonghwa isn’t there in the morning. He’s left them a note, though, with his
number written on it as well as a reminder in case they forgot.

“Ooooh, fuck ,” a voice says, and Yunho looks away from the sticky note to find Hongjoong
sitting up on the couch, rubbing his head.

“How’re you feeling?” Yunho asks, handing him a glass of water with some Advil.
Hongjoong knocks the pills back with the water, scowling.

“I have the worst hangover in the entire world,” Hongjoong mumbles. He looks around.
“How did you guys get back? Did you-”

“Your friend drove us,” Yunho says. He points at the sticky note. “He said his name was
Seonghwa.”

The color rushes out of Hongjoong’s face as he drops the glass of water. Thankfully, it lands
on the couch, but the cushions are still soaked.

“What?” he says as Yunho cleans up. “Who?”

“Seonghwa-ssi? Try to be careful, Mingi’s still sleeping-”

“Did he leave? Is he coming back? I’m going to read his note,” Hongjoong says quickly
getting up. He groans and clutches his head, but, even after Yunho offers his hand, he still
makes his way over to the note and reads it. While he’s doing that, Mingi trudges out of their
room, mumbling to himself.

“What’s going on?” he says sleepily.

“Hongjoong-Hyung is reading Seonghwa-ssi’s note,” Yunho says a bit dryly. Hongjoong

curses and hits his head against the desk, groaning.

It’s at that moment Seonghwa chooses to come back. There are a few knocks on the door and
Yunho goes to open it as Hongjoong stands awkwardly in the center of the room.

“Seonghwa,” he greets when the door opens and the boy walks in. Seonghwa stands with his
pot in his hands, shifting awkwardly.
“Hongjoong-ssi,” he says. Hongjoong tenses.

“Don’t be that formal. We know each other better than that,” he says, looking down.
Seonghwa purses his lips and doesn’t say anything as he puts the pot on the counter and gets
out some paper bowls, silently serving the soup.

“Bye,” he says. “My address is on the bottom of the pot. You guys can wash it and send it
back.” His gaze cuts to Hongjoong for a tense second. “I don’t think I’m very wanted here.”

“I can walk you out?” Hongjoong says weakly. Seonghwa’s expression is cold as he shakes
his head and leaves. The door slams behind him.

“What happened between you two?” Mingi says once the door closes. Hongjoong stares at
his soup and pokes it around his bowl with his spoon.

“We hooked up last summer,” he mumbles. “We hit it off pretty well and then, I, um, may or
may not have ghosted him because I didn’t . . . because of personal reasons.”

“Did we let a creep in?!” Mingi cries.

Hongjoong waves his hands quickly, looking guilty.

“No, no, no, Seonghwa isn’t a creep!” Hongjoong says. “He’s a really nice guy and he was
always really sweet to me and he’s really smart and - I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Mingi and Yunho both nod as Hongjoong facepalms.

“It’s just - I never contacted him and I didn’t think he’d show up and - you know what, I’m
gonna go. I should give this back to him.”

“And apologize,” Yunho mumbles. Hongjoong sticks his tongue out before he rinses the pot
and dashes out of the dorm, leaving Yunho and Mingi to their own devices.

“Well,” Mingi says loudly, slapping his hands on his thighs. “That was fun!”

He and Mingi don’t talk about the fact that they had a mildly sexual staring contest, even as
they get older and go to the same parade the next year. They don’t talk about it when Mingi
officially signs his idol contract after talking to his mother, nor do they talk about it when
Seonghwa and Hongjoong start dating.

Mingi brings it up three years later while they’re lying in his apartment, not yet drunk but not
sober either. The apartment his company has given Mingi is nice. It’s big enough for two
people because Mingi had begged Yunho to stay with him and Yunho had eventually
crumbled because of course, he would, he was being asked by Mingi. He wouldn’t be Yunho
if he said no.

“You know,” Mingi says, his words carrying that familiar slur, “I remember the cherry.”

Yunho rolls over to look at him.

“What cherry?” he says. He grins and wiggles his eyebrows playfully. “Your virginity?”

“Fuck you, no,” Mingi grumbles. He rolls over so he and Yunho are facing each other. He
stares at Yunho, his small eyes full of some sort of emotion that Yunho can’t name.

(Well, he thinks he can, but he won’t. He’s already wading through dangerous waters, no
need to answer the siren’s call any further.)

“You want - you looked like you wanted to kiss me,” Mingi breathes, and Yunho can smell
the alcohol. He sits up and Mingi comes with him, crawling forward. Yunho’s heart goes
higher up his throat with every little step closer Mingi gets, until, eventually, he’s almost in
Yunho’s lap.

“We were drunk,” Yunho says weakly. Mingi’s lips are sosososo close, and Yunho’s tipsy
brain is having a real hard time trying to keep up with everything going on.

“I know you - I know that you look me at me like that still,” Mingi breathes. “When you
think I don’t see you, I know you stare at me.” He tilts his head back, and Yunho wonders
desperately about where this confidence came from. “I know you want to do more than just
kiss me.”

“And if I do?” Yunho says, his mouth dry. He wants something in his hands, and the first
thing that comes to mind is Mingi, Mingi, Mingi.

“I’d tell you to go ahead and do it,” Mingi whispers back. He’s crawling over, he’s in Yunho’s
lap, their lips are an eyelash’s length apart, and Yunho thinks he has maybe a single
millisecond before he explodes.

“May I?” Yunho says. Closeclosecloseclose

Mingi laughs and presses their lips together, and Yunho’s eyes fall shut as his hands finally
finally get to place themselves on Mingi’s help. Desperation oozes from them, and Yunho
feels a fierce flare of excitement when he sees that Mingi is just as eager as he is. Their hands
are rushed and hurried, their clothes flying off and they hardly even make it to the bedroom.
Yunho wants to take Mingi apart, wants to break him into pieces so he can put him back
together again. He wants to devour Mingi, to steal him away and make him his own dirty
little secret.

“I want you to crush my head with your thighs,” Yunho says, placing Mingi’s legs on his
shoulders. Mingi turns bright red and covers his face with his hands as Yunho licks a long
stripe up his leg, his confidence seemingly having melted out of him and into Yunho. Yunho
can’t say he minds that much.

“Well?” he asks, looking at Mingi curiously. Mingi looks down at him with wide eyes.

“I - I’ve never - I’ve never done anything like this before,” he stammers.

Right.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho says quickly. “I shouldn’t-”

“No! Don’t go!” Mingi cries, grabbing his wrist because right, they’re already naked and if
anyone was to walk in right now, Yunho wouldn’t be able to blame them for thinking that
they walked in on what looks to be a very questionable gay porno.

“You . . . you want me to stay?” Yunho says. Mingi nods shyly.

“I - I want you to - I trust you,” he says. He twiddles his thumbs. “I’ve wanted - I mean, like,
I think you’re hot and you think I’m hot and we know each other, so . . .”

“You want to have sex with me?” Yunho breathes. Mingi nods.

“If you’ll have me.”

Oh, if only you knew.

“I want to fuck you,” Yunho says. Blurts, really, because he hadn’t meant to say it. Mingi
somehow turns even redder as he adjusts on the bed. Yunho wants to devour this boy.

“Okay,” Mingi says, spreading his legs a little. He lies back on the bed, turning his head to
the side so his hair fans out around him. Yunho’s heart thunders as he licks his lips and Mingi
smiles at him, shy but somewhat flirty. “Go ahead.”

Mingi finishes quickly, but they both chalk it up to the fact that it’s his first time having sex.
They lie together in Mingi’s bed and Yunho can feel lips pressing against his neck, soft and
curious like little butterflies exploring a field of flowers.

“You know,” he says softly, “we’re gonna have to talk about this in the morning.”

“Is there anything I can do to get out of that conversation?” Mingi mumbles. Yunho hums
and shrugs.

“Trust me, I don’t wanna have it either,” he says. He sighs, closing his eyes and adjusting his
hold on Mingi. “But we should talk about it. And you’re too . . . we’re both too tired to do
anything else.”

“If I recall correctly-”

“Shh. I’m going to sleep now.”

Mingi giggles and Yunho allows himself a smile. It doesn’t do enough to quell the anxieties
that bubble and swirl in his stomach, though, and Yunho hardly gets a wink of sleep that
night.

Yunho only wakes up because the sunlight is tickling his eyes and it forces him to slowly pry
his eyelids apart. He glances around the room and sits up, finding Mingi to be curled up on a
chair with his laptop balancing precariously on his lap. He’s wearing nothing but his big,
oversized, pastel yellow sweatshirt with the hood drawn over his head. Yunho thinks he looks
cute.
“You wanna knock that conversation out of the way now? Or do you want me to go get
ready?” he asks, stretching. Mingi looks up at him and then he takes his headphones off,
placing his laptop on the floor and grabbing his ankles.

“Let’s have it now,” he says. Yunho nods and sits back, leaning on his arms.

“So,” Mingi says quietly, “we fucked.”

“We did.”

“And now we have to figure out where to go from here.”

Yunho nods again.

“I mean,” he says, shrugging a little, “we’re best friends, aren’t we? That hasn’t changed, has
it?”

Mingi shakes his head so quickly that Yunho gets whiplash.

“No, no, no, of course not!” he cries, waving his hands and looking quite panicked. “I mean,
yeah, we fucked and all, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still be best friends! I - none of what
I did as your friend was ever part of an elaborate scheme to get you to hook up with me and-”

“Mingi, I never said we weren’t friends anymore,” Yunho says. He gets out of bed and grabs
a pair of underwear, pulling them on and making his way over. “We’re always gonna be best
friends. Doesn’t matter that we had sex. That’s in the past. What we need to do now, though,
is to figure out what happens.” He stands up and shrugs. “I mean, I, for one, wouldn’t mind
doing it again. And I know that you can’t exactly go out to a gay bar or club or something
and find some guy to hook up with, so here I am.”

Mingi looks at him with wide eyes and blinks several times.

“What are you saying?” he asks.

“I’m saying that I wouldn’t be opposed to a friends-with-benefits arrangement, that’s what

I’m saying,” Yunho tells him, shrugging and sitting on the ground. “And plenty of people
know about me since I’m on camera with you a lot of the time or people just see us together,
so if we started fucking behind the scenes, then isn’t it just a win-win situation?”

Mingi bites his lip, and Yunho stares at him. Something about this feels . . . too close to a
confession. Yunho knows he’s acting casual, but something in his chest is waiting eagerly for
Mingi’s answer, even though he’s not the one who has to watch his every move.

“Okay,” Mingi finally says, and Yunho’s stomach flips.

“So,” he says, getting up and stretching because he’s stiff from sitting on the ground, “you
wanna go through with this?”

Mingi nods, and Yunho gets ready to go to the bathroom. But, before he can even leave the
bedroom, Mingi tugs him back by his wrist, cupping his face and kissing him. His desire for
Mingi, still yet to have been squashed out, flares up, and Yunho grabs for Mingi’s thighs,
pressing him into the chair. Mingi’s lips are soft and plump and just a bit chapped because he
can’t remember to use chapstick to save his life. Yunho tastes an iced Americano against
them, and he licks into his mouth, feeling somewhat like some sort of demon. Crazed and
lustful and desperate for a taste of the pure being in his arms. Desperate to taint him, to have
him, to steal him away from the rest of the world because a bitter part of Yunho believes
that’s what Mingi did to him. He was tied to Mingi by their mothers, and, ever since then,
Mingi has been the owner with the leash to drag Yunho along. From Gwangju to Seoul to this
little apartment near Mingi’s company, Mingi has been the ringleader of everything they do.
Whether Yunho likes it or not.

“I have - I have a schedule today,” Mingi breathes against his lips. Yunho pulls away and
steps back, pushing his hair away from his face. Mingi’s ankles are still locked together, his
heels digging into Yunho’s back.

“Wanna join me in the shower?” he asks.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. Yunho and Mingi, every little bit of time that they have
alone, are all over each other, made of desperate hands and hurried kisses. Mingi doesn’t
have a lot of free time, so they do what they can during the little holes in his schedule that are
allotted to them. Well, not them. They’re allotted to Yunho because Mingi has other things he
needs to do in his free time, so it’s not exactly free time. Yunho, selfishly, wants all of
Mingi’s time to himself. He wants Mingi to at least act like he feels the same desperation for
him. He’s devoted himself to Mingi, from going to the same high school to this idol shit.
There are people who know Yunho’s name, who know he’s Mingi’s best friend, who know
that he’s the exception in this industry and he goes on camera and they live together and
Yunho is like Mingi’s therapy dog.

Nonstop

There are people out there who think that they’re dating. They’re more or less correct in that
assumption. On one hand, Yunho and Mingi are best friends, and the only feelings between
them are strictly platonic. On the other hand, they’re kissing and fucking like boyfriends once
the cameras are gone. But that’s only because there’s the added component of them feeling
physical attraction to each other. Nothing else.

Except there might just be, Yunho realizes as he walks around the halls of the Music Core
building, listening to some jaunty girl group song. His head is spinning and he doesn’t quite
know what’s going, other than the fact that he’s a bit lost and-

“What are you doing back here?” someone asks. Yunho looks up and his eyes widen as he
comes face-to-face with one of the MCs, someone who should probably be interviewing . . .

“Mingi,” he blurts. “Mingi is my - I’m the guy - I’m his therapy person.”

Hyunjin (that’s what the nametag on the microphone says, and Yunho’s also seen him around
before) arches an eyebrow.

“His . . . therapist?” he says. Yunho shakes his head.

“Fuck, am I high? Do I smell like weed?” he says. He sniffs his sweater sleeve. It smells like
makeup and hairspray.

“If you’re high then you’re in the wrong place,” Hyunjin says. He reaches out and rests a
gentle hand on Yunho’s back. “Do you want me to take you to where Mingi-ssi might be? I’ll
be interviewing him in a few minutes, you guys can talk before then?”

Yunho nods, even though he knows he won’t be able to hold himself back from Mingi when
they see each other. He knows he’ll be bursting at the seams with his need to grab him and
hold him and kiss him and press him up against the wall to take him right in front of
everyone else. So the entire world knows that Mingi is his, his, his.

“Yunho, oh my God,” Mingi says when he sees him. He throws himself at Yunho, and the
skinship is nothing new, but, for the first time, just this little touch from Mingi turns Yunho’s
blood into hot magma that rushes through his veins. He stands stiffly, inhaling the scent of
cosmetic products and take-out. Mingi is just wearing a white button-up and black slacks
with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but Yunho wants to devour him. He wants to see
Mingi’s blood-red hair fanned out on the pillow, he wants to fist his hands in it and mess up
the way it’s been styled oh-so-carefully. He wants to kiss Mingi so that the red-pink lip-tint
he’s wearing finds a home on Yunho’s lips and in his mouth.

Instead of doing any of those things, though, Yunho steps away from Mingi with a smile that
feels more like a grimace. Mingi smiles at him as he leaves, waving. Yunho waves back and
then excuses himself to the bathroom.

He is unable to pry his eyes off of Mingi when he performs. On stage, Mingi exudes a sort of
aura that has him dripping with charisma and a sort of duality that Yunho has never seen in
anyone else. It makes him want, even more than he usually does, and his hands twitch where
they sit in his lap.

When Mingi comes back, sweaty and beautiful and looking like a wet dream, Yunho can’t
stop himself as he grabs him by the wrist and hides him against a wall, slotting their lips
together and pressing his forearm to Mingi’s chest. Mingi’s hands scrabble over him, and
Yunho presses his thigh between Mingi’s legs, tilting his head and kissing him because he
needs more more more .

They finally manage to pry the seam of their lips apart, but Yunho still keeps himself pressed
against Mingi, resting his forehead against Mingi’s. He looks up at him, at the way his lips
are reddening and swelling already. He refuses to risk looking in his eyes.

“I’ll see you at home,” is the only thing he can think to whisper before he steps back. Mingi
nods, wiping his mouth off as he heads back. Yunho goes to the bathroom first and splashes
his face with cold water, his breathing heavy.

“Are you okay?”

Yunho’s head whips around and he stares at Hyunjin as he walks in. Hyunjin smiles at him.

“I’m fine,” he says quickly, avoiding his eyes. Hyunjin shrugs.

“You’re not, but okay.” His smile shifts into something a little more genuine. “He’s a nice
guy.”

“Mingi?”

“Yeah.”

Yunho nods, staring at himself in the mirror. He looks like a mess.

“How long have you guys been together for?”

Yunho’s eyes widen in the mirror as he looks at Hyunjin. Hyunjin tilts his head at him.

“Did I-”

“We’re not together,” Yunho says quickly. “We’re just friends.”

Hyunjin arches an eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure?” he says. “I mean-” he notices Yunho looking at him and makes his lips into a
thin line. “Never mind. You seem like a good guy. It was nice to meet you.”

Yunho nods and then he bolts, grabbing his coat and mask on the way out.

“Where are you going?”

Yunho turns around and finds Mingi holding him by the wrist, his eyes growing round with
curiosity. Yunho’s heart, traitorous as ever, begins to pound.

“I was gonna go get in the car. I don’t wanna get caught by the paparazzi.”

Mingi tilts his head at him before laughing and hugging him.

“Wanna go together?” he says. He glances around before jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
“I have Yeosang covering for us.”

Yunho cranes his neck and looks around until his eyes land on Mingi’s manager. Yeosang
winks at him and makes a ‘move along’ motion with his hands.

“Okay,” Yunho concedes. Mingi’s grin brightens as he pulls his mask over his face, lacing his
fingers with Yunho’s. They go out the back entrance of the building and into the streets.
Yunho pulls his hood up and does the same to Mingi because his bright-red hair puts a target
on his back. They run out and Yunho wonders if this is how things would be if they were just
two normal best friends instead of Mingi being an idol.

“We should get ice cream,” Mingi whispers, his eyes twinkling.

“It’s a rainy day in March. This is not the time, Mingi,” Yunho says. Mingi shrugs.

“I want ice cream,” he says. Yunho sighs and rolls his eyes, reaching for his wallet. Mingi’s
hand stops him, though, and Yunho looks up at him with wide eyes.
“I’ll take care of it,” Mingi says, but there’s a hidden message in his eyes. Yunho’s heart,
strangely enough, begins to beat harder when he notices.

I’ll take care of you.

Yunho nods and smiles at him, squeezing his hand as Mingi pulls his own wallet out of his
pocket and they order, heading to a hidden table to eat in a little corner.

“Taxes,” Mingi says, opening his mouth wide. Yunho snorts and shakes his head, taking a
little bit of ice cream and offering it to Mingi. Mingi scowls and sticks his tongue out at him.

“You have not appeased the king,” he says, lowering his voice. Yunho laughs and licks his
spoon off, shoving it into the ice cream.

“King? More like a princess. I spoil you and you’re a total brat,” he says. Mingi gasps, faking
offense.

“I’m your god. Give me the damn ice cream,” Mingi says. Yunho laughs and takes a
spoonful, offering it to Mingi. He’s satisfied this time, and Yunho feels his smile growing as
they talk and eat.

When a picture of them sitting together in the back of the ice cream shop appears on Twitter,
Yunho knows he shouldn’t be surprised. Ever since his debut, Mingi has been noticed by a lot
of people. Even if you don’t think he’s attractive, you can agree that Song Mingi is an
extremely eye-catching person. He’s someone who warrants at least one more look back, and,
by then, you’re already screwed.

“God, that’s so annoying,” Yunho grumbles after Mingi shows him the picture. He rolls onto
his side and grabs his phone, grumbling. Mingi hums from beside him.

“I think I’m gonna come out at my next concert,” he says. Yunho’s heart leaps into his
throat.

“We’re going on tour?” he says because there’s no question about whether or not they’re
going together.

Mingi nods.

“How long?”

“A month until we leave. We’re going through Europe and then America and then back.”

“Starting in Japan?”

Mingi nods again, and Yunho releases a heavy sigh.

“Do you not want to come?”

“No, I want to come,” Yunho says quickly, though he’s told so many lies that he can’t tell if
it’s the truth or not. The words have a bitter after taste in his mouth.
“Do you not want me to come out?” Mingi asks, his voice small. Yunho looks over at him
quickly.

“No, of course not! I’m - I’d love if you came out, not that there’s any pressure! I think that
it’s great!”

“But you’re scared. For us.”

“No, I’m scared for you, ” Yunho says. He sits up and Mingi joins him. “I just - you know
how things are, don’t you? And I know that in the idol community, with just us, being gay is
fine because everyone has done something queer at some point, but, like, the public . . . I
don’t think they’re ready for it.”

“Well, I’m ready for it,” Mingi says. He grabs Yunho’s hands. “Yunho, I promise. I’m
actually - I’m sure of it. This is what I have to do.”

Yunho nods, but he can’t make the bad feeling in his stomach go away. It persists as they get
ready to go on tour, packing up and saying goodbye to the people staying, telling their
mothers and brothers, and then they’re on their way.

The first few concerts, the ones in Japan and Europe, Mingi stays quiet about his sexuality.
Yeosang had sat with them on the plan and they’d discussed how hiring bodyguards would
probably be something they should start looking into. And then he’d pulled out a pretty gay
pride flag and had left it with them, telling Mingi to follow his heart after shooting Yunho a
knowing glance.

They arrive in America, starting in LA, and they’re greeted by a swarm of fans far bigger
than Yunho had imagined. As they stare out, getting ready to go, Yunho grabs Mingi’s hand
and squeezes, offering him a smile.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Mingi whispers. He looks over at Yunho, his eyes wide. Yunho
curses internally as he tugs Mingi back into the plane, cupping his face.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “These people love you. They’re so excited to see you, okay? I
promise-”

“You’ll stay with me?” Mingi asks.

Yunho smiles at him, and, without thinking, he says, “Always.” Mingi seems to relax and he
nods, and then he presses his lips to Yunho’s, and then he grabs his hand and tugs him out.

The first time Yunho traveled abroad, it was the summer after his mother won the custody
battle against his father. She decided that they needed a break, so she took her two sons to
Japan. It became a sort of tradition for them to take one trip to Japan, and Yunho can speak
Japanese near-fluently. They stopped the year Mingi came because Mirae had wanted to help
her friend and her friend’s sons.

America isn’t too much to handle for Yunho. It’s fun for him and Mingi to explore, though, in
spite of their limited English. It’s fun for them to buy each other things that are nice, for them
to be just friends in this city so similar yet so different from the ones that they’re used to.
People recognize them and ask for pictures and Yunho’s head is sent spinning as he and
Mingi walk around, their arms linked.

“We should go to a bar,” Mingi proclaims. Yunho laughs and shrugs.

“What will your company think? Don’t you have to tell Yeosang?” he asks. Mingi makes a
face.

“He’s probably smashed already. He said he was, and I quote, ‘meeting someone’ here.”

“Oooh, does he finally have a date?” Yunho says. Mingi shrugs.

“I dunno. I just think that he won’t care as long as we’re back before the concert and we’re
not terribly hungover.”

Yunho laughs, wrapping an arm around Mingi’s shoulders.

“Sure, why not?” he says. He looks over. “But, just so you know, I think we’re both gonna be
super hungover.”

Mingi laughs back at him as they search for a gay bar nearby, and then they’re off.

Triggered (freestyle)

Yunho is a fool, however, for thinking that things will go smoothly. He hasn’t been able to
have a tequila sunrise since the first pride parade he and Mingi went to, but, somehow, he
finds himself nursing one as he watches the writhing mass of bodies. Mingi had gone to
dance, having proclaimed that he’d get dicked down before his concert, and then he’d
disappeared. Now, Yunho is-

“Hey.”

Yunho turns around and finds a nice-looking guy sitting behind him. His eyes are big, unlike
Mingi’s, and his nose is small, also unlike Mingi. His lips, unlike Mingi’s, are thin, but he
and Mingi at least seem to share the same height. Yunho’s mouth feels dry.

“Hi,” he says, taking a sip from his glass. “I, uh, my English - I don’t speak - I’m Korean.”

The guy smiles at him, and his eyes don’t disappear when he does. Yunho shifts in his seat.
He feels like he shouldn’t be here.

“That’s okay,” he says. He leans in, putting his lips near Yunho’s ear. “You don’t need,” his
words are lost to the music and Yunho’s lack of understanding, “me.”

“What?” Yunho says. “I don’t - I - understand-”

The guy makes a fist and jams his finger into it, and then he points at Yunho before pointing
to himself. Yunho feels the heat rush to his cheeks, but it’s not because he’s flustered. His
stomach churns uncomfortably as the guy straddles his lap, and Yunho thinks he’s going to
throw up.

“Excuse me,” he says loudly so his voice can be heard over the music. The guy climbs off of
him and Yunho finishes his drink. He runs off, making a beeline toward the bathroom.

He pushes the door open and the first thing he hears is someone sobbing. Some guy is
standing near the big stall, saying something that Yunho can’t understand. When he sees
Yunho, his eyes widen and he jumps back, holding his hands up.

“-Didn’t touch him, I swear!” he says. “Look, man, I’m not some-”

I know that voice.

“Mingi?” Yunho cries, shoving the guy aside and rushing to the stall door. “Mingi, oh my
God, are you okay?!”

“Yunho?” Mingi whispers. Yunho curses and tries to reach inside, cursing.

“Leave,” he spits at the guy. “Leave.” In Korean, even though he doubts the guy can
understand, “Get out of here before I beat your ass for touching him.”

Despite probably not understanding Yunho’s threat, the guy bolts. Yunho gets on his knees
and presses his ear against the door.

“Mingi,” he whispers, “are you okay?”

Mingi sobs and Yunho’s chest twists with something he doesn’t like.

“Can you let me in?” Yunho says. He knocks lightly on the door. “Please?”

There is, at first, no response, and Yunho wonders if he suddenly said something wrong or,
though it’s pretty unlikely, if he’s mistaking someone else for Mingi. But then there’s a soft
shuffling sound and the lock is slid out.

“Oh, Mingi,” Yunho says, opening his arms. Mingi sniffles and shuffles forward, letting his
head fall down against Yunho’s shoulder. Yunho reaches around and locks the door, leaning
against it with a sigh.

“Fuck,” Mingi says, and Yunho tightens his hold on him. “This is so fucking embarrassing.”

“Hey, it’s better in this shitty bathroom than on the concert stage, eh?” Yunho says. Mingi
grunts and looks up at him. His face is flushed.

“Yunho,” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

Mingi leans forward, and Yunho’s heart crawls into his throat for no clear reason. Yunho
leans back.
“Kiss me,” Mingi says. His hands are on Yunho’s chest. “Kiss-”

“Someone roofied you,” Yunho says. Mingi leans forward, his lips brushing over Yunho’s.
“Shit, Mingi, we gotta leave.”

“Yunho-”

Yunho shakes his head and grabs Mingi by the wrist, and then he slings him over his
shoulder. Mingi grunts, surprised, but Yunho’s already opening the door and rushing out. He
hails a cab and stammers the hotel address to the poor driver, fending off Mingi as he tries to
give the guy a free strip show.

“Yunho, please, ” Mingi begs, his breath hot against Yunho’s ear. Yunho’s heart thunders.

“You’re not in your right mind,” Yunho says, half to himself as he balls his hands into fists
where they rest on his thighs. Mingi’s belt is undone and his fly is open. His shirt is pushed
up and he’s now sucking on his fingers, then he’s trailing them down his chest, in between his
pecs and over his stomach.

“Mingi,” Yunho hisses, grabbing his hand when it wanders too far down south, “quit it. You
have an image to upkeep.”

Mingi looks at him with hooded eyes, licking his lips and letting his mouth fall open. His
tongue sticks out and something about him is terrifyingly innocent as he bats his eyes,
looking up at Yunho through his eyelashes.

“I want you to fuck me against the wall when we get home,” he breathes. Yunho squeaks and
covers his mouth with his hand, trying to keep Mingi from crawling into his lap like some
sex-crazed monster.

“Thank you, sorry!” Yunho cries, grabbing Mingi and paying the cab driver. He rushes into
the hotel, scrambling to get inside of their room.

“Oh my-”

Yunho looks down at the sound of a thunk, finding Mingi on his knees in front of him. He
takes Yunho’s zipper between his teeth and looks up at him.

“Mingi, no, ” Yunho says, tugging his poor zipper free. He shimmies around him. “Go to bed.
You have a concert tomorrow.”

“So? I’ve never heard anything about there being a rule about no sex before performing. And,
if there is one, you’ve never really abided by it.”

Yunho purses his lips.

“If I get you off, will you go to sleep?”

“I said I wanted you to fuck me.”

“Why do you want it so bad? Isn’t it-”

“No, it’s not. Didn’t I say I was gonna get dicked down earlier? Aren’t-”

“You’ve been drugged , Mingi,” Yunho says. He walks forward and cups Mingi’s face. “I’m
not - I don’t want to do anything to you when you’re like this. That’s - that’d be taking
advantage of you.”

Mingi whines and stomps his feet, but he makes sure that Yunho’s hands stay cupping his
face.

“But I want you when I’m sober!” he cries. He stomps again. “I want you now, I’ll want you
later, when I go to sleep, when I wake up, in the shower, when I eat, at the concert - I want
you all the time.”

Yunho tells himself not to let the words get to his head as he grunts to let Mingi know that he
heard, grabbing him and dragging him to the bathroom. He tells Mingi to use the bathroom
and then, once he’s done, he makes him bathe.

“This is nice,” Mingi says, leaning back against Yunho’s knees. His jeans are rolled up and
it’s a pain in the ass, but Mingi looks so cute and small in the bathtub, the faded red of his
hair complimenting the tan of his skin. Yunho manages a smile as he continues to wash his
hair, shaking his head.

“You really are a pillow princess,” he says to himself, running his fingers through Mingi’s
hair before grabbing the bucket of warm water. “Tilt your head back.”

“You know,” Mingi says quietly, “my dad used to do this with me.”

Yunho pauses, looking down at Mingi.

“He said it was the least he could do since he was always at work,” Mingi says, his eyes still
closed. Yunho realizes that the water has stopped pouring. “Maybe that’s why he was so sad
all the time. He never got to be with his family.”

Yunho hums and combs his fingers through Mingi’s hair, collecting the suds and carefully
working the knots out. There’s something strangely intimate about this, about the way that
Mingi sits and talks about everything and nothing, going on and on until he can barely keep
his eyes open.

“Let’s get to bed,” Yunho says softly, smiling to himself as Mingi trudges obediently to the
bed. He fumbles when he comes to his underpants, pouting and scrunching his face up in a
way that shouldn’t be adorable but is anyway.

“I guess I’m not taking anything tonight,” Mingi mumbles as they lie together. Yunho hums
and smiles at him, stroking his cheek. He should stop. This isn’t what best friends do to each
other. If he was actually Mingi’s best friend, then he’d be sleeping in a separate bed.

“I’m sure you’ll be mobbed plenty tomorrow to make up for it,” he says. Mingi hums and
sighs, leaning his forehead against Yunho’s chest. Yunho shifts around and turns the lights
off, and then he too goes to sleep.

There’s a certain buzz in the air that wasn’t present at the previous concerts. Yunho sits in the
dressing room, nibbling on a piece of chicken as Yeosang and Mingi go over Mingi’s plan.
After he performs his final song, in Yeosang’s words, “the world is your oyster. Do whatever
you want. Scream it, whisper it, as long as you’re satisfied. We have security guards to help
you and Yunho get out safely.”

“Okay,” Mingi says. He looks over at Yunho and Yunho pretends he hasn’t been paying rapt
attention to their conversation.

“Okay. Your translator will be up there too, but she’s staying backstage. You wanna go
now?”

Mingi nods. Yunho gets up and wipes his hands on his legs, and then he follows Mingi
toward the stage.

“I’m scared,” Mingi turns around to whisper. Yunho looks around, trying to guess how many
people are watching. And then he grabs Mingi by the front of his shirt and kisses him, pulling
away to use his nail to clean up the lip tint he smudged.

“A good luck kiss,” he whispers, leaning their foreheads together. He smiles a little at Mingi.
“You’re gonna do great.”

Mingi nods at him, and then he’s called in. Yunho rushes backstage and goes to hide in the
bathroom, pressing his back against the wall. The cool material feels good under his skin as
Yunho shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back, sliding down.

Everything is going to change, he realizes. He looks back at the door. Everything is going to
be different after this.

He sits in the bathroom for the first few songs, and then he goes out during Mingi’s break to
congratulate him and cheer him on. Mingi has one more break before the finale, and Yunho’s
heartbeat grows louder and stronger with every passing second. He tells himself that it’s
because of the nerves, because he’s scared and nervous for Mingi since this is a really big
thing. He’s only out to three or four people, Yunho included, and this is a huge leap.

“All right,” Yeosang says as Mingi finishes the song. He gets up and reaches around, pulling
out a little pride flag and waving it around. Yunho swallows hard, but the lump in his throat
stays where it is.

“Here he is!” someone cries as Mingi comes back. He’s sweat-slicked and grinning, his eyes
bright. Yunho wants to vomit, he’s so nervous. Mingi walks over to him and hugs him, and
Yunho vaguely registers that he should probably react, but all he can do is stand there.

“Are you okay?” Mingi whispers. Yunho blinks several times and then forces a smile,
nodding.
“Of course. Just a little nervous,” he says. Mingi still looks uneasy as he’s whisked away, so
Yunho forces himself to make some funny face to ease his nerves. Mingi cracks a smile, and
Yunho considers his job done.

Yunho walks Mingi back to the stage, and they stand there together, waiting. Yunho stares at
Mingi, trying to soak everything in.

“Thank you,” Mingi whispers, pressing his forehead against Yunho’s. He’s holding his hands,
and Yunho feels numb. He doesn’t know if it’s from fear or just a general numbness, but he
does know that it’s making him flounder awkwardly as Mingi looks so kindly at him. His
eyes are saying something, something that Yunho refuses to read into.

“It’s no problem,” he says, and his voice is so terribly hoarse that Yunho wonders when he
started crying. Mingi tilts his head up with a gentle touch to his chin, smiling at him.

I don’t deserve you.

“Good luck,” Yunho says. Mingi looks back in the direction of the stage and nods, and then
he turns back to Yunho. He presses their lips together, and the kiss is so fleeting that Yunho
wonders if it ever happened because seconds later, Mingi is walking out onto the stage.

Some of the staff members have set up a TV that’s been taking in all of the performance, but
now, Yunho can’t pry his eyes away from it. Mingi stumbles his way through a few English
seconds before switching to Korean and relying on the translator. He talks and smiles, talks
and smiles, and then he performs. Yunho feels the sweat sliding down the back of his neck,
slow and sinister.

“Here we go,” Yeosang says quietly. Yunho nods, his mouth dry. Something is nudged into
his hand, and he looks down to find a shot glass with some amber liquid inside.

“Let’s do a shot for good luck,” Yeosang tells him. Yunho nods and lifts the glass to his lips,
swallowing hard.

“Here we go,” Yeosang says again. Yunho nods and turns back to the screen.

“Everyone!” Mingi cries in English. He’d practiced for hours to make sure his pronunciation
was just right. “I have something to say!”

Oh my God, it’s really happening.

Mingi puts his microphone down for a second and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a little
square. He unfolds it and Yunho’s breath hitches as he takes in the sight of the rainbow flag,
bright and unmistakable in all its glory.

The crowd shrieks and Mingi laughs nervously. Yunho reaches for the bottle and pours
himself another shot.

“I’ve had - I’ve had these thoughts on my mind for a while,” Mingi says. He’s draped the flag
over his shoulders like a shawl. Yunho’s stomach twists. “And I think you guys should know.”
More cheering and Mingi smiles brightly.

“I’M GAY!” he shouts into his microphone. His voice cracks and it’s already hoarse from
performing, but there’s so much joy and conviction in his words that Yunho feels his chest
clench. His eyes are itchy, and he blinks rapidly, feeling tears slide down his cheeks. Yunho
can’t even try to wipe them away as Mingi jumps up and down with his flag.

“I’m gay, and I’m so happy , ” Mingi says once the crowd has quieted down. He wipes his
eyes, and the lights catch on the tears so they glitter like little stars falling from Mingi’s hand.
“I love that I can - I can be honest with you. I’m so proud of - of myself and you and
everyone else.” He pauses to sob, looking away and wiping his eyes.

The chanting starts up. The words ‘사랑해, 송민기’ ring in the stadium, and Yunho can see
as Mingi grins happily at the crowd.

“You should go be with him,” Yeosang whispers. Yunho looks over at him and then back at
Mingi, the way he’s surrounded by all of these people with lightsticks that make it look like
he’s the sun in a sea of stars.

I don’t belong up there, he thinks. I don’t belong anywhere but back here.

“I don’t wanna steal the spotlight,” he says weakly. “I think I’m - I have to use the bathroom.
I drank too much.”

Yeosang says something as he goes, but Yunho’s head is spinning too much to care. He finds
himself hidden in the bathroom yet again, his hands covering the back of his neck as he
presses his face into his knees. Yunho rocks weakly, licking his lips and trying to think
clearly.

Yunho sits in the bathroom for several minutes. He rocks back and forth on the ground, his
mind clouded.

“Yunho, are you okay?”

No, not at all.

“Yeah,” Yunho says raspily. He wipes his eyes. “I’m just - sick. I had too much to drink.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Yunho’s heart twists and he shakes his head, licking his lips. He hears footsteps, and then
there’s the dull thud of someone letting their forehead rest against the door.

“I’m not mad,” Yunho says. “I’m just drunk.”

“Can you open the door?”

“It’s really gross.”

“Please?”
Yunho bites his lip before he slowly turns around and unlocks the door, and there’s Mingi.
He’s sweaty and smelly and his eyes are red and puffy but he’s also the most beautiful person
Yunho has ever seen in his entire life. They stand there, staring at each other, and Yunho can’t
help but wonder how lost he’s gotten in this boy.

“Hey,” Mingi says, breaking the spell. Yunho blinks and then he smiles, and Mingi returns it.
Yunho wants to cry even more.

“I’m proud of you,” Yunho says softly. He opens his arms and Mingi falls forward, hiding his
face in his chest. His breathing is audible, his tears and sweat soaking into Yunho’s already-
wet t-shirt. Yunho licks his lips and lets his head fall back as he runs his fingers through
Mingi’s hair, staring up at the ceiling.

“Jaesoo is going to hate me,” Mingi says.

“Jaesoo is a dick. Besides, you have me,” Yunho tells him, tilting his head up. He smiles, a
lopsided little thing that seems to calm some of the anxieties constantly brewed in Mingi’s
head. “I said I was gonna be your older brother, didn’t I?”

Mingi nods. Yunho wants to kiss him, but that’s only for when they’re in the right situation.
The good luck kiss was an exception, and Yunho isn’t going to let there be another one.

“We should probably head back,” Yunho says quietly. Mingi nods and they walk toward the
dressing room, holding hands all the while.

The reaction to Mingi coming out is instantaneous. Yunho checks Twitter and finds it to be
flooded with talk and pictures from the concert, and the reactions range from amazing to . . .
death threats.

“No social media for you. We need to let things cool down,” Yeosang says. “Just focus on the
rest of the performances. It’s been taken care of.”

Mingi purses his lips and doesn’t say anything, though Yunho can tell that he’s upset. His jaw
is clenched and his lips are thinned out, his brow furrowed. He reaches out and grabs Mingi’s
hand, squeezing it gently.

“Okay,” he finally says. He turns to Yunho. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on a second,” Yeosang says, stopping them both. “You guys need to wait for your
bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard?” Yunho and Mingi say at the same time. A young man comes out, his black hair
pushed back from his face and his expression schooled into one of blank indifference.

“This is Choi San,” Yeosang says. “He’ll be your bodyguard from now on. We don’t know . .
. well, word travels fast and the death threats have gotten pretty graphic, though I’ll spare you
the details. He’ll be shadowing you guys from now on.”

“Did he just . . . appear?” Mingi says.

“No, we’ve been going over this for a while. Ever since you brought up coming out to me,
actually, we’ve been planning to get someone. San-ssi came from Korea with us.”

The man smiles kindly at them and bows.

“Uh, pardon me for asking, but how old are you?” Mingi says.

“The same age as you, sir,” San says. He grins slyly. “Congratulations, by the way. You’re
really helped a lot of people.”

Mingi smiles, and he shakes San’s hand. Yunho does the same before he and Mingi leave,
deciding to go to a spa. San tells them that he’ll be inside, though they won’t have to worry
about him. He already has a plan.

Jaesoo’s response comes while they’re headed to the airport. It comes as a message, full of
slurs and curses and talk of how Mingi’s going to hell. Mingi reads the first few sentences,
his eyes wide and his hand covering his mouth, prompting Yunho to look over his shoulder.

“Oh my God, that fucking asshole,” Yunho growls, grabbing Mingi’s phone. Mingi doesn’t
even protest as Yunho deletes the message, scowling as he hands Mingi his phone back.
“Don’t listen to him. Just block him.”

“But he’s my brother.”

Yunho looks up from his phone.

“But he’s a homophobic dick,” he says.

“That doesn’t make - we’re still related to each other. He’s still my older brother, Yu. He’s
always going to be my older brother.”

“Why do you want to associate with him, though? Isn’t - doesn’t it-”

“Please? I just want to - to leave him unblocked. If he sends something else, I’ll block him,
but until then . . . I dunno. Maybe he’ll change.”

Yunho purses his lips and thinks. He doesn’t know what to do. On one hand, he and Mingi
have both been raised to believe that family is the most important thing in their lives, but, on
the other, Jaesoo’s toxic comments are certainly going to have an impact on Mingi.

“All right, fine,” Yunho says, sighing. He wags a finger at Mingi. “If he tries to contact you,
though, tell me first. I don’t want you reading that shit.”

Mingi laughs and throws an arm around Yunho’s shoulder, and red paints his skin.

“Okay,” Mingi says, wonderfully oblivious. “Thanks for being my knight in shining armor.”

Yunho smiles weakly at him.

“Any time.”
Their days in America dwindle down, and, slowly, Yunho and Mingi get used to San. He gets
an apartment near theirs and Yunho eventually realizes that San is someone he has to share
Mingi with.

Already, in Yunho’s opinion, there are too many things he has to share Mingi with. His
schedule, his work, Hongjoong, his mother, his fans, and, now, San. San wants to talk to
Mingi about the threats, to brief him, to teach him a few self-defense techniques that Yunho
thinks are stupid. San offers to teach Yunho too, but Yunho declines - at first. A look through
some of the deeper posts on social media sends him back. San is happy to teach him.

“You know,” he says, stretching, “you should tell him.”

“Tell whom what?” Yunho asks.

“You’re in love with Mingi-ssi.”

“I am not.”

San snorts and shakes his head, sitting down and arching an eyebrow.

“You are,” he says. “You’re afraid of it, though. There’s something between you two. There’s
a story there.” He tilts his head to the side, and Yunho hates how scrutinizing his gaze is.
“You guys have known each other for a long time?”

“Yeah. We’re best friends.”

“You don’t think that.”

Yunho looks away and crosses his arms.

“I do. We’re just friends.”

“Well,” San says, doing a handstand, “Mingi doesn’t seem to think so. He thinks you guys are
more.”

“We aren’t. He’s just saying that.”

San looks at him curiously, climbing up. He walks forward and crouches down, sitting
directly on Yunho’s lap. He cards his fingers through his hair, tilting his head a little.

“Is that the truth?” he whispers. He glances back. “So you wouldn’t care if Mingi came in
right now?”

Yunho pushes him off. San lands perfectly.

“I would care ‘cause it’s weird as fuck that you’re doing this,” he snaps. He crosses his arms.
“If you’re not gonna do anything, then I’m going to leave. This is stupid and weird and it’s
making me uncomfortable.”

San shrugs and waves at him as he stalks out, not making any move to stop him.
Instead of going back to the apartment, Yunho decides to go for a walk. He covers his face
with a mask and walks quickly through the streets of Seoul, music playing in his headphones.
He wants to vomit.

Mingi thinks that we’re not just friends.

Mingi thinks of me in a romantic way.

Mingi has a crush on me.

He thinks I have a crush on him.

Mingi thinks I like him back.

Yunho ducks into a bar and sits down, putting his head in his hands.

“You need anything, kid?”

“A bottle of soju, please and thank you,” Yunho says, not looking up. He wants to vomit.

“Here you go,” the bartender says, and Yunho nods, opening the bottle and bringing it to his
lips. He’s going to have to walk home on his own, so it’s not a good idea to get knockout
drunk, no matter how badly he wants to.

While he drinks, Yunho feels his phone buzz several times. Eventually, he just powers it off,
sighing and shaking his head.

“Rough day?”

“Rough life,” Yunho grumbles, drinking a little more. He should stop soon. “Fuck, man, you
don’t even know.”

The bartender laughs and shrugs.

“Sorry about that. You can tell me, but it seems like you don’t wanna talk.” He glances down
to where Yunho’s phone is in his pocket. “You might wanna answer some of those messages,
though. It sounds like someone’s worried about you.”

Yunho sighs.

“I should probably go,” he says. He gets up and pays. “Thank you. Bye.”

The bartender waves at Yunho as he leaves, his stomach twisting. He looks up and finds the
sky to have darkened, and he shakes his head. There’s no time for worrying about how much
time has passed since he left; he should just get back to the apartment before he worries
anyone too much.

When he arrives at the apartment, though, Yunho is unable to make himself go inside. He
stands at the door, key in hand, and stares ahead. He has a feeling about what waits inside,
and it’s not something Yunho wants to confront. He goes so far as to contemplate going to
Seonghwa and Hongjoong, but he knows they’d want him to explain, and, honestly, Yunho
doesn’t think he could do that.

Unfortunately, San makes his decision for him. He comes out of his apartment, looking
around, and his eyes land on Yunho.

“Oh my God, there you are!” he cries, rushing over. He unlocks the door to Yunho and
Mingi’s apartment, revealing Mingi on the couch, his head in his hands. He’s been crying,
Yunho can tell that much - his eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, his skin is streaked with tears.
The sight makes guilt twist in Yunho’s stomach as he bites his lip and forces himself to look
away.

“Here he is,” San says, nudging Yunho forward. Mingi remains sitting down and Yunho
refuses to look at him, already having noticed the flowers sitting on the table. San looks
between them, probably able to sense the tension, and then he steps toward the door.

“It seems like you guys have some stuff to talk about, so I’m going to leave,” he says. He
points toward the door. “Uh, call me if you need anything.”

Neither Mingi nor Yunho nod and San leaves. Once the door clicks shut, Mingi gets up and
walks over. He reaches up and cups Yunho’s face, smiling gently and tilting his head.
Yunho’s chest clenches.

“I was worried,” Mingi whispers. He runs his thumbs over Yunho’s cheekbones, tilting his
head a little. “You smell like you went drinking.”

“I did,” Yunho says. He knows Mingi can smell the soju on his breath because he wrinkles
his nose when Yunho speaks.

“I wanted to tell you something.” Mingi steps back and walks to the table, picking up the
flowers. His eyes are hopeful, his smile is soft, and his posture is open. Yunho hates himself.

“I’m - I’m in love with you,” Mingi says, holding his bouquet up. “And I-”

“No.”

Mingi stops mid-sentence, looking up at Yunho with wide, confused eyes. Yunho tastes
something bitter on his tongue.

“What?” Mingi stammers. The bouquet falls to his side. Yunho looks away.

“Think about it, Mingi,” he says. He glances up at him. “What do you know about love?”

“I-”

“You’ve never been in a relationship before,” Yunho says. He sighs and shakes his head.
“Whatever we have, or whatever you think we have . . . it’s just . . . it’s circumstantial. It’s
not real . And look, I get it, you were caught up in the moment ‘cause we’re friends and the
sex is good-”
“That is not what this is,” Mingi snaps. He tosses the bouquet on the couch, and Yunho tells
himself that it doesn’t hurt. “There’s - there are way too many - I fell in love with my best
friend. What’s circumstantial about that? That happens all the time! Who knows how many
people have done that?” He sniffles and wipes his nose. “I just - I don’t understand what’s so
- I love you, why is falling for your best friend circumstantial?”

“You’re an idol, Mingi,” Yunho says, his voice shaking. “You can’t - it’s hard to date people,
I know. But that doesn’t mean - you can’t just fuck someone a few times and call it love.
That’s not real.” That’s not fair.

Mingi’s eyes turn hard as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Okay,” he says, surprisingly calm. “Okay, let’s say that you’re right. Let’s say that I’m just
in over my head or whatever and that I’m mistaking lust and platonic love for romantic
feelings.” He walks up to Yunho, jabbing a finger in his chest. “What now, then? What about
you?”

Yunho fumbles for an answer.

“I-”

Mingi scoffs and looks away.

“Don’t try to invalidate my feelings, Yunho. I know what I feel, and-”

“You’re just desperate,” Yunho snaps. “You’ve never been in love, Mingi. Think about it -
when was your last relationship? Who was your first kiss? Your first time? Your first
everything? Be logical, will you? It’s not-”

“What are you afraid of?” Mingi asks suddenly. “You - you’re - I know there’s something
there. We’ve been best friends for years and years, Yunho, there’s no way that - I just don’t-”

“Mingi, listen to yourself ,” Yunho says. “Just - look, this-”

“I love you,” Mingi cries. “I love you, I love you, I love you! Why are you so afraid of it?”

Yunho drags his hands over his face.

“I’m not!” he argues. “I’m just - I’m just saying-”

“What, are you scared about breaking up with me or something? Is that it? Are you scared
that I’m gonna find someone better than you or something? You’re - why can’t we try ,
Yunho?”

“Because everything would fucking fall apart!” Yunho yells. He feels like he’s going to cry.
Mingi is crying. “I don’t - what’s the point of risking everything like that? When we don’t
even love each other, too! Fucking hell, Mingi, you can’t just - this isn’t love! This is just two
best friends who sometimes hook up! There’s nothing there!”

Mingi stares at him, wiping his eyes. And then he sits down and puts his face in his hands.
“Fine,” he says weakly. “Fine, fine, let’s just - let’s just fucking - let’s stop talking about this.
This is just - it’s just a waste of time because you clearly don’t give a literal shit about how I
feel.” He gets up and storms toward the bedroom, stopping at the door. “You can go - I don’t
fucking know. Just don’t get in trouble, okay?”

Yunho sighs. He’s tired, all of the energy having left him in a sudden rush.

“Fine,” he says. Mingi nods at him and all of the tension seems to disappear, awkwardness
taking its place. Yunho sighs and shakes his head, getting up and heading to the bathroom.

like i need u

He’s lying on the couch, alone, when he realizes that he can’t sleep like this. He can’t sleep
alone.

He seems to black out for ten or so seconds because, somehow, Yunho finds himself standing
in front of the door to his and Mingi’s room.

His hand, he notices, is also on the doorknob. And then, without thinking, Yunho pushes the
door open and walks inside.

Mingi is lying alone in the dark on his side of the bed (if you face the bed and stand in the
doorway, then it’s on the left), facing the wall. Usually, he and Mingi start out that way before
they work themselves into a cuddle, one that ends with their legs tangled together under the
sheets and their bodies pressed up against each other without even a hair’s space between
them.

“Hey.”

Mingi doesn’t answer, but Yunho knows he’s awake. He pulls his shirt over his head and
unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down his legs before climbing into bed with Mingi.

They lie like that for a few moments, with Yunho staring at Mingi’s back as Mingi stares at
the wall. Mingi shifts around, though, rolling over to face Yunho.

He doesn’t say anything, partly because there’s too much to say and because they’re both too
afraid to bring it up. Instead, Mingi leans forward and presses his lips against Yunho’s,
reaching up to tangle his fingers in his hair. Yunho tilts his head to kiss him better, shutting
his eyes and letting his hands wander.

There is a bitterness when he kisses Mingi, one that wasn’t there before. It’s spread all over
Mingi’s skin and Yunho would know. His skin crawls with the knowledge of everything
between them, and he just knows that things will never be the same again.

They do go back to some semblance of normal, though. If Yunho is alone and he’s thinking
about it, then he laughs bitterly because all it took was him being lonely before he came
crawling back to Mingi. He is pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” Mingi whispers to him one early morning when the sun has just barely started
rising. Yunho hums, keeping his eyes closed as Mingi draws circles on his skin. “I’m . . . I
didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“What are you talking about?” Yunho says.

“When I told you that I-”

“It’s fine,” Yunho interrupts. “It’s fine, I’m fine. Just . . . don’t do it again.”

Mingi looks up at him, but Yunho makes a point to avoid his gaze.

“I love you,” he whispers, his breath hot against Yunho’s chin. Yunho tries to focus instead
on how Mingi should brush his teeth. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“I know you do too,” Mingi says, his voice even quieter. Yunho tenses.

“Mingi-”

Lips press against his own, a tongue licking into his mouth before he can continue to
reprimand Mingi. Mingi swings a leg over his hips as Yunho cranes his neck to kiss him, the
blankets falling softly from Mingi’s still-naked body. Skin on skin, lips on lips, body on body.
The rising sun is the only one to bear witness to their actions, to watch the strange sort of
dynamic between them, to know what goes on. But even Yunho doesn’t know what’s going
on, so he doubts that the sun does. If it does, though, he would like it to tell him because he
sure as hell doesn’t have any idea what it is that they have.

But, well, things are somewhat back to normal. Mingi writes songs and Yunho tries to ignore
how likely it is that the ones about love - the ones about unrequited crushes, about loving in
secret, about desperation, the ones begging just lovemelovemeloveme - are about him. Mingi
will, sooner or later (though, hopefully, it’s sooner), find someone better. Yunho is broken,
he’s useless, and, above all, he doesn’t even know what’s going on in his head. He’s someone
who is so tied to Mingi, who has been seemingly taught that he’s supposed to be Mingi’s
“guardian” for an unclear amount of time. And he’s never had a choice in the matter.

And if I ever . . . how do I know that anything I feel for Mingi is real ? he thinks, staring at the
ceiling. How do I know if anything I think or feel or want isn’t just because I have some
subconscious instinct telling me that I have to do it for him? I couldn’t do that to him. That’s
not fair to either of us.

Yunho sighs. They’re getting ready for the day-long drive to Gwangju since Mingi’s break
has started and he wants to go visit his mother. Jaesoo has contacted him since that one
message, and, since he’s come out, things have eased up a bit. San is staying back in Seoul to
be with his boyfriend, Wooyoung, who is also a friend of Yeosang’s. Now, San only ever
goes out with them when they’re heading to heavily crowded areas, and, since they’re going
to be in Gwangju with their families, they don’t expect a lot to happen.

But, relationship-wise, Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Ever since Mingi’s confession,
there’s been a quiet sort of tension between them, like an uncrossable chasm that has been
growing wider ever since the day Yunho realized that he was supposed to be the confidence
Mingi’s never had. And Mingi’s confession - or, rather, what Yunho said in response to it -
simply cut the ties of the weak little bridge between them.

“Are you excited?” Mingi asks him, grinning. Yunho turns and smiles at him, nodding.

“Yeah,” he says. They’re whispering because Yeosang has fallen asleep and neither of them
are keen on waking him. “Yeah, I’m really excited.”

And he is excited. He’s telling the truth. He’s really excited to see his mother and Geonho. He
hasn’t been able to see them often, only during Mingi’s breaks, and he’s been extra busy
these past few months (especially since that night), so it’ll be good for everyone.

Or so he thinks. Yunho should’ve known something was wrong when they got to the
neighborhood and, the next morning, people came to congratulate him and Mingi. They were
vague about it too, so that didn’t really help Yunho figure out what was going on. Mirae and
Eunji are cooking up a storm for dinner and Geonho (who, somehow, is in high school )
offers to take Yunho and Mingi to the flower shop their mothers like.

“Uh . . . okay?” Yunho says. Mingi, who’s always liked Geonho, happily skips to the car.
Geonho hits him on the back and grins at him.

“He’s a nice guy, Hyung,” he says. Yunho frowns at him as he walks off, tilting his head. He
shrugs to himself and shakes his head, sighing and then following Geonho and Mingi to the
car.

For some reason, the florist has several orders of white lilies and roses. Geonho picks them
up happily and shoves a bouquet of red roses into Yunho’s arms, winking at him as he pats
Mingi on the shoulder and sashays back toward the car. Mingi walks over and looks down at
the roses, poking on the blossoms.

“Does my brother seem . . . weird to you?” Yunho asks as they watch Geonho put the flowers
in the car. “He’s acting weird.”

“Yeah. Geonho seems like a total het. I never thought I’d ever see him sashay confidently.”

Yunho hits him with the bouquet.

“No, like, seriously,” he says. “Everyone’s acting kinda weird. They, like, came to
congratulate us when we got back, that was weird. Is something going on?”

Mingi shrugs and then Geonho calls them over before he can say anything else.

By the end of the day, Yunho thinks he knows what’s going on. The congratulations, the
flowers, the knowing looks - they all point to one thing.

Someone’s getting married. Yunho doesn’t think it’s Geonho and it’s certainly not him, so
maybe it’s their mom? But no, that wouldn’t make sense. She would’ve told him. Auntie
Eunji, maybe?
They all sit down at the table and begin to eat, and Mingi talks about the album he’s working
on while Geonho talks about his classes and Mirae brings up his girlfriend, teasing Geonho
playfully. Yunho stays quiet because, as he’s come to realize, his life is just . . . Mingi. And
Mingi’s right here so they don’t really need Yunho’s updates.

“I’m just so happy for you,” Eunji says sweetly over dinner. Yunho stills, his spoon halfway
to his mouth as he looks around the table. His stomach flips as he begins to get a hunch about
what this is all about.

“Uh . . . what are you talking about, Eomma?” Mingi says, laughing nervously. He shoots his
mother a look and Eunji frowns, tilting her head.

“Aren’t you two together?” Mirae says, pointing between the two of them. Yunho chokes on
his rice and begins to cough, hitting his chest. Everyone simply stares at him as he does.

“We’re not together,” Yunho says after a drink of water. He looks around the table. “Why
would you - why would you think that?”

“After Mingi came out,” Eunji begins, “everything was saying that you guys - that it was the
first step in you guys going public with your relationship. And besides, you two have always
been extra close.”

“We’re not together,” Yunho says again. “We never - we never were.” He looks over at
Mingi, finding that he’s taken a sudden interest in his rice. “Mingi-”

“It’s really good, Auntie Mirae!” Mingi exclaims loudly. Yunho puts his utensils down.

“Mingi, can I talk to you?” he says. He notices the eyes on them. “ Outside?”

Mingi eats another spoonful of rice before getting up and walking toward the door, Yunho in
tow. He opens the door for Mingi and then closes it behind them, but he finds that he’s unable
to turn around.

“Did you tell . . . did you tell your mom that we’re dating?” he asks quietly. He can see Mingi
fiddling out of the corner of his eye.

“I didn’t,” he says. “I just - she was the one who - who encouraged me to confess. To you.
That night.”

Yunho turns around and crosses his arms. Mingi stands in the backyard, looking scared and
nervous.

“And you didn’t think to tell her that it didn’t go well?” Yunho says.

“I just thought she would’ve assumed since I never texted her about it again!” Mingi says. “I
didn’t - I didn’t think that she’d say or assume that we were, like, dating! Why would I do
that?”

“Because you’re desperate, that’s why,” Yunho snarls before he can think better of it. “You
just - I can’t believe you.”
“I’m not - I never told her we were dating!” Mingi hisses angrily. “Goddammit, Yunho, why
does it matter so much? Everyone thought we were dating in high school!”

“But was that our entire neighborhood knowing? Now I can’t go around without anyone
congratulating me for nothing!”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Mingi cries. “Why are you so averse to being in a
relationship with me?”

“I don’t have a fucking problem!” Yunho yells back, uncaring of their neighbors. “I’m just - I
don’t want to date you, okay? I’ve already sacrificed enough for you, what more do you want
from me?!”

Mingi stares at him.

“What do you mean?” he says, his brow still furrowed.

“I mean everything! Ever since - ever since we met, I’ve been just . . . everything I do is for
you!” Yunho says, unable to make himself be quiet. “I didn’t have any friends but you in 4th
grade! I was one of the most - one of the biggest social butterflies the year before!” He runs a
hand through his hair. “And holy fuck, do you know what happened with high school?! My
mom fucking signed me up without telling me! Just because of you ! You know how shitty
that feels? I had actual plans , Mingi, but then you decided you wanted to go to fucking
SOPA so I had to go too!”

“Yunho-”

“And then when you became an idol, I had to - I had to sign a contract and now I can’t do
shit!” Yunho shouts. “I actually had - fuck, Mingi, I’ve never even had my own life! You
came in and suddenly everything I do is for you! Everything! You know how shitty it is to
live that way? To feel like you only exist for someone else? ‘Cause I fucking do! I know what
- holy shit, I don’t even know who I am without you! I’m just some guy!” He’s crying,
shitshitshit. “I just - fuck, and you know what sucks? I might actually want to be with you!
But I’m so used to lying to myself and doing shit to make you happy that I can’t fucking tell!
And I don’t want us to go through that! I really fucking care about you, Mingi, and I don’t
want to not be your friend. I genuinely think that you’re an amazing person and I wanna be
with you, but I can’t tell if it’s because I just feel obligated to date you or if I actually want to,
and that really fucking sucks, okay?” He sits down on the porch and puts his head in his
hands. “Just - look, I need some space, okay? I’m gonna book a hotel room, I won’t tell you
guys where, just tell everyone that I need a break. Please.”

When Yunho walks by, Mingi is still as a statue. Yunho half-wonders if he even heard any of
what he said, but then he’s grabbed by the wrist and tugged into a hug.

“Okay,” Mingi whispers, his voice hoarse. “I’ll tell them. See you back home.”

Yunho nods, his lips sealed tight as he watches Mingi head inside. And then he heads out
through the gate and walks to the bus station, looking through his phone to find nearby
hotels.
He orders a bottle of wine to be brought up to his room before collapsing on the bed with a
heavy sigh. Yunho rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, blinking a few times.

Because, despite the fact that he and Mingi just had a huge fight, the weight on his chest has
been lifted. He’s finally released the terrible thoughts into the air, and he’s finally talked to
Mingi. Well, it’s more like he shouted at him, but, well, beggars can’t be choosers.

Yunho sighs. The wine bottle arrives not long after the little realization, but Yunho doesn’t
drink. Instead, he sits in bed and thinks. He runs over things, trying to figure out what he’s
feeling. Because, despite everything, he thinks he still owes it to Mingi that he gives him a
definite answer. Or the beginning of one, at least.

Yunho’s epiphany comes to him at 3 a.m. while he’s still asleep. He has a dream, and, in the
dream, he’s slapped by Seonghwa wearing a fish on his head, and then he’s told to get his
start getting his shit together.

“Weird,” Yunho says as he looks around the empty hotel room. And he realizes that the part
of him that’s just Yunho, though it’s quite small, doesn’t like that he’s alone.

Mingi isn’t here, Yunho realizes. He gets up.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he says. He looks around again. “I think.”

And then he decides to get back in bed and go to sleep.

The next morning, though, over an iced americano, Yunho thinks. He goes over the previous
night’s events in his mind, something that leads to him examining his and Mingi’s entire
relationship. And, at least an hour and a half later, Yunho comes to a conclusion that . . . he
needs more time to think about this. He doesn’t know how long, but he knows what he has to
do. He and Mingi aren’t supposed to leave Gwangju until . . . well, until next week so Mingi
can get ready for his next comeback by polishing up some of his dances as well as a few of
the songs, so Yunho has time. He knows what he has to do.

Several minutes later, Yunho finds himself on the bus to the florist’s. He searches for flowers
to convey his meaning because he’s always thought of it as romantic to speak through the
language of flowers. He just hopes that he can get the bouquet done now.

“Do you have an alstroemeria and forget-me-not bouquet?” Yunho says quickly as he enters.
The florist looks around before coming across a bouquet of white alstroemerias and pretty
blue forget-me-nots. Yunho grabs it and places it on the desk, tapping his toe.

“Can I request a note?” he says. The florist nods and gets out a pen and pretty piece of paper,
writing down the little phrase before attaching it to the bouquet. Yunho smiles and nods,
bowing his head before he races out.

He leaves the bouquet on Mingi’s doorstep and rings the bell before bolting. Yunho doesn’t
plan on sticking around for now, but he’ll be back. At some point.

Yunho smiles to himself as he walks to his own house to get his things.
Wait for me

Film Out and Film Out (Piano Cover)

The note stuck to Mingi’s fridge still makes him smile whenever he passes, albeit a little
sadly. He lifts his coffee mug to his lips and turns to look out the window, taking in the way
the sun shyly begins to color the sky. He smiles to himself and adjusts his glasses, turning
back to his work.

Mingi has held onto the note for the past three years. The flowers, unfortunately, weren’t as
long-lived, but there’s a sort of solace he’s found in the absence of them. He can’t quite
explain it and, even if he could, he’s not sure if he’d want to. For now, he’s content with
Yunho’s note. They started messaging each other again just last month when Yunho had
texted him out of the blue to ask how he was. Mingi, in truth, had been writing down all of
the things he wanted to say to him in a journal, and he’s working on making them into a song.
He’s content, though, to simply let it sit in his drafts, waiting patiently for his attention.

Mingi sighs, exhaling softly through his nose and closing his eyes. His apartment is blissfully
quiet, the only sound coming from the coffee machine. And even then, it’s near-silent. There
is no shouting, no yelling, no endless chatter that he struggles to keep up with. Just a peaceful
sort of silence. And even if he used to live a life where his apartment was always full of
laughter, Mingi is . . . he’s okay with things. He’s okay with being alone. Throughout the
years, ever since Yunho left, Mingi has dated a few people here and there, but there hasn’t
been anyone he was serious about. And, honestly, Mingi is okay with that. He’s happy, even.
He’s mentioned it to Yunho once or twice, but he’s more interested in what Yunho’s been up
to.

So far, this is what he’s told Mingi: he’s staying with a family friend in Japan, he’s started
going to a therapist (Mingi has too. His mother had told him to do it after he’d finished
crying over Yunho), he’s getting a degree in business, and he misses Korea. Not Mingi, not
his family, not their mutual friends, but Korea itself. And Mingi doesn’t blame him. He
knows now that Yunho has been through a lot, and, though it hurts to think that he hid so
much from Mingi, Mingi has come to understand why.

Mingi’s phone buzzes, then, startling him out of his memories, and he smiles at the message
from Hongjoong. He should probably get to the studio now.

His day is uneventful. Yunho doesn’t message him a lot and, though he’s slowly begun to do
so, Mingi doesn’t like texting him first. He wants things to go at Yunho’s pace, though his
therapist has also told him that he needs to assert himself sometimes too. It takes two to make
a relationship, after all.

It begins to rain. It’s strange since it had been wonderfully sunny in the morning, but, well,
April showers, right?

Mingi sighs and shakes his head at himself. He’s being ridiculous. He gets out his phone and
checks his messages, deciding to text Hongjoong to pick him up. Or maybe Yeosang. Or San.
One of the three.

“Gosh, this weather,” someone says beside him. Mingi hums without looking up from his
phone since he’s not exactly keen on being seen at the moment. He isn’t wearing any makeup
and he’s spent all day in his studio, so he’s sure that he looks awful.

“Well, I’d best be going now. Seems like he’s not here,” the stranger says. Their voice is
familiar, and Mingi looks up as they walk away, something falling from their pocket as they
go. Mingi rushes over and grabs it.

“Hey!” he yells into the rain. “You dropped this!” It’s a little piece of paper, and the ink on it
has been washed away by the rain, but Mingi will be damned if he doesn’t try to figure out
how he-

The stranger turns around, and Mingi stops in his tracks. Yunho stares at him from under his
umbrella, a bouquet of red roses and white hydrangeas pressed closely to his chest. Mingi
swallows hard and stares at him as he stands in the pouring rain, his heart pounding.

“Yunho,” he whispers, half-afraid that the sound of the rain will drown it out. But Yunho
smiles, and, just like it did all those years ago, it makes Mingi’s heart thunder in his chest.
Yunho looks more or less the same as he did when he left, but something about him seems . .
. it just seems different. Wiser. And then it hits Mingi; his eyes aren’t sad anymore.

“Hi,” Yunho says. Mingi takes a few tentative steps toward him, and Yunho continues to stare
at him with that smile that makes it feel like the rain has totally stopped.

“You - you’re back,” Mingi says softly. Yunho nods. He puts his bouquet in his bag, then,
tilting his head a little. Mingi blinks at him several times, trying to-

And then hands are grabbing his hips and lips are pressing against his, soft and just as sweet
as when he remembers. Mingi clutches the back of his neck and tilts his head because the
feeling of their noses pressing together is none too pleasant, but it hadn’t taken away from the
kiss. Mingi presses closer to Yunho, holding him tighter.

When Yunho pulls away, his bangs are sticking together from the rain. Mingi thinks he looks
as beautiful as ever.

“I missed you,” Yunho says softly. Mingi leans their foreheads together and thanks the rain
for hiding his tears as he hugs Yunho, shutting his eyes.

“I missed you too,” he whispers hoarsely. He opens his eyes and stares at Yunho, and, just
like he did back at their first pride parade in high school, Mingi falls in love all over again.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

Yunho laughs softly and kisses him again.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says. He pulls away, grinning. “Did it work?”

Mingi laughs and he continues crying, wrapping his arms around Yunho’s shoulders to press
their bodies flush against each other.
“Yeah, I think so,” he says, his voice still so hoarse from crying. Yunho’s arms are warm and
familiar around him, and it only makes Mingi cry harder.

“Do you wanna head home?” Yunho says. “I brought my car. Yeosang said you needed
someone to pick you up, but he wrote your address on a piece of paper anyway.”

Mingi nods, wiping his eyes in vain as they walk over to Yunho’s car. They get in and Mingi
holds his flowers, the two of them sitting in silence.

They arrive at Mingi’s apartment building, and then they head upstairs. They take their shoes
off and change, and then Mingi offers Yunho a cup of hot cocoa to warm up.

“Thank you,” Yunho says as he takes the steaming mug from him. Mingi smiles at him and
sits down, shifting awkwardly. What now?

“I’m sorry,” Mingi says before he can chicken out or think of something else. He looks up at
Yunho. “I didn’t get to say it to you when - before you left. And you deserve to hear it from
me.”

Yunho smiles kindly at him.

“I’m sorry too,” he says. He looks at his mug and then places it on the coffee table. “I just - I
shouldn’t have kept all of that from you.”

Mingi nods, shifting in place.

“You said you missed Korea,” he says softly. He looks up and offers a lopsided smile. “How
does it feel to be back?”

Yunho laughs, smiling at him.

“To be honest, I wanted to say that I missed you,” he says. He adjusts on the couch, and he
suddenly looks very nervous. “I was . . . I was actually wondering if you wouldn’t mind
letting me stay here.”

Mingi stares at him with wide eyes.

“You - you want to stay with - with me?” he says. Yunho nods.

“If you’ll have me, that is,” he says with a shy smile and a little shrug.

“Of course!” Mingi says. Yunho laughs and he blushes, looking away.

“Glad to hear that you’re so happy to have me as your roommate again,” Yunho says
jokingly.

“It’ll be nice to have someone else do the dishes every once in a while.”

Yunho throws his head back and laughs, and Mingi can’t help but join in. He and Yunho sit
there and laugh until they finally calm down, but neither of them are able to stop grinning at
each other from their places on the couches.

And then Yunho’s clearing his throat and looking down, playing with his hands. Mingi shifts
a bit in his seat, biting his lip.

“I actually wanted to - I wanted to ask you - well, no, it’s more like I wanted to tell you
something.” He looks up at Mingi, then, his eyes firm.

“Yeah?” Mingi says.

Yunho’s lips twitch.

“I wanted to tell you, Song Mingi,” he says softly, getting up from the couch and walking
over to stand in front of Mingi, “that I love you. And I want to - I want to date you. And, at
some point, maybe even marry you, but I’m getting ahead of myself.” He smiles nervously.
“So? What do you think?”

“I think that I’d like that,” Mingi says softly. He stares up at Yunho. “I - I think I’d like that a
lot.”

Yunho laughs, crouching down and scooping Mingi into his arms. He smells nice.

“Really?” he says, his voice just as soft. “You - really?”

Mingi nods and Yunho laughs again like he can’t believe what’s happening.

“I just love - I’m so happy,” Yunho says. Mingi giggles and hides his face in the crook of his
neck.

“Me too,” he says, blushing. He looks up at Yunho and smiles, and Yunho smiles back. “Me
too.”
End Notes

twt: the_28th_anon
cc: the_28th_anon

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