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It’s the little things that they do that mean the most. The subtle looks and sly touches they think go unnoticed, nods from opposite ends of the room that convey the entirety of a conversation in a single movement. Sometimes it’s just choosing to sit beside one another when they all gather together for meals, but it’s all they need.
The others notice though, because how could they not? They live with each other, eat, sleep, practice, laugh, talk together every day of their lives, so it’s hard for anything to slip past them. Even the little things.
♥
Seungcheol watches as they are sat on the sofa next to him, engaged in a simple conversation with Seungkwan. He had been paying attention to the subject until his eyes had found their linked hands, Minghao’s fingers playing with Mingyu’s nonchalantly. The younger’s slender fingers curled gently around the elder’s thicker ones, touch delicate and familiar. He wasn’t sure they even knew they were doing it—it was something they slipped into regularly, usually after Mingyu had said something that made Minghao laugh or frown, a pout present on the black-haired boy’s lips. Their hands would sort of just connect, like a magnet drawing them together, and that’s where they would remain. Interlocked and inseparable.
It was gentle and loving and Seungcheol couldn’t hide the soft smile drawn across the width of his face. These kids were always pushing and pulling off each other, but in the end the simple brush of their fingertips was all they needed. He’s almost angry when Mingyu decides to pull his hands away so he can throw a cushion at Seungkwan for his teasing remark, the disappointed look in Minghao’s eyes for just a split second not going unnoticed. The leader’s heart clenches as the brunette slides his hands back into the pocket of his hoodie, and he gets up to leave and get a drink.
♥
Sorting out each other’s hair had only recently become one of their habits, but it’s almost every time they’re getting ready to go on stage that Jeonghan notices Mingyu stop the younger boy and brush his hair delicately from his forehead. He scoffs a little, laughing silently to himself because he’s just ruined the stylist’s handy work—work they’re paid to do, only to have their excitable, puppy-like giant come along and ruin it. He’s sure there’s nothing really wrong at all with Minghao’s hair; it’s an excuse to be close and affectionate. But he doesn’t say anything, just watches as Mingyu towers slightly over Minghao and “fixes” any bits of his newly dyed mop that stick up around his crown.
He likes to observe as Minghao frowns, eyebrows drawn close together in faux irritation; really Jeonghan knows the boy loves it when Mingyu is grooming him this way. His large hands are usually clumsy, dropping things at the most inconvenient moments, but against Minghao’s skin and features he’s soft and careful and loving; it brings such a warmth to Jeonghan’s heart that he almost misses Joshua tapping his shoulder to tell him they’re about to start recording. He blinks out of his trance, and the pair have parted and it is just another thing brushed under the rug that none of them talk about.
♥
For Joshua, it’s the way their arms are constantly draped around each other, especially whenever they’re sat together for a live stream. It’s nothing out of the ordinary—the entirety of the group are prone to linking arms and resting their heads on each other’s shoulders; they’re family after all, closer than brothers. But with Minghao, it’s like he’s clinging onto Mingyu as if it’s the last time he’s ever going to see the boy again. It starts with a chair shuffling closer out of the corner of his eye, and by the time Joshua turns, they’re sat so closely he almost believes himself that they’re joined together with super glue.
Minghao likes to hold Mingyu’s shoulder tightly, sometimes shaking it, sometimes tapping it, or—if on the occasion Mingyu is wearing a hoodie with tassels—play with the loose fabric hanging there. But his arm never leaves its spot from around his shoulders. He can see it doesn’t bother Mingyu, not at all; the boy almost sinks into Minghao’s side, taking comfort from the embrace in a way that looks like the stress of the day just vanishes from his body. It’s soft and sweet, and Joshua only looks away when Minghao’s chin resting on the older boy’s shoulder gently gets too much for him to watch. Instead he smiles to himself and hopes the fans watching can see what he has the joy of experiencing in person.
♥
Junhui thought the whole charade of them kicking each other under the table was sweet and playful at first, but he’s fallen victim to their violent nudges too many times. The word for it was “footsie”, he thinks as he finds himself unfortunately trapped between the two once again at dinner—he supposes it’s his own fault for not taking the races to the table as seriously as Seokmin, Seungkwan and Soonyoung do to get the best seats. He tries his hardest to pull his feet back as far as possible so he doesn’t interrupt their light kicks, turned to less than gentle nudges, and though they would deny it, it’s definitely a game of footsie. An intense one, but still footsie.
With every miss-kick from Minghao’s strong foot or Mingyu’s larger, more clumsy ones, Junhui can’t help but glance between the two knowingly. They don’t make eye contact often, but he notices the way their lips curl upwards at the corners and the way their eyes wrinkle around the edges in both concentration and the attempt to hold back their shouts—or laughter. He bites his tongue, because although his shins are bruised and he rarely gets an apology from either Minghao or Mingyu, the affection behind the little game they play, not so subtly, makes him giggle, smile into his food and wonder if any of the other boys have caught on too.
♥
It’s something the whole group have grown accustomed to whenever they are practicing for a performance outside in the dead of winter, but Soonyoung notices them latching on a little tighter than anyone else and it makes him wonder. He doesn’t blame Minghao, really—Mingyu is like a furnace with his huge body and if he were to pick one person to penguin huddle with in their jackets as they wait around, freezing to death, it would be Kim Mingyu. But that’s not the point. They all hug each other for warmth in bundles, but the way Minghao’s arms are wrapped so tightly around the taller’s front, face nuzzled into the back of his parker makes his heart hammer in his chest. It’s so loving, and close and Soonyoung shivers at the sight (not just the cold).
He tries not to let his eyes linger, moving closer Jeonghan and Chan in his own hopes of getting warm. He wishes their cue for positions can just be called because the cold is unbearable and so is the sight of Mingyu breaking free of Minghao’s arms. Soonyoung also wishes he counted how fast Minghao latched back onto the larger boy, pout on his face, hands trembling; it’s almost instantaneous (and he reminds himself to tease the boy about it later). When Mingyu turns, however, and wraps the boy in his arms so their positions are switched, he can’t help but swallow back a smile. It looks almost couple-like now with Mingyu’s larger frame engulfing Minghao’s much slender one, rather than a child hugging their favourite over-sized teddy bear. Soonyoung hopes that maybe at least Minghao can now feel warm in Mingyu’s embrace.
♥
Wonwoo, over the rim of his glasses one evening in their dorm, picks up on the habit Minghao has for always catching the stray eyelashes that fall onto Mingyu’s cheekbones. He’s seen it before—fan signs, before or after performing one of their various music show stages—but he’s only just put two and two together. He watches as Minghao halts whatever it is they’re talking about, peering in close to the taller boy’s face, and for a moment Wonwoo questions what exactly is going on. Then he notices the boy’s fingers twitch at his side before his slim digits carefully touch the skin of Mingyu’s cheekbone, just below his eye, and cleanly sweep there before Minghao leans back once more.
Mingyu grabs his hand to see if the eyelash is still there, and Wonwoo expects nothing less than what he sees: Minghao suddenly pulling his hand away before they return to their conversation—which was apparently one of their many bickering matches. But he can see Mingyu is thankful for the small gesture, the light, gentle touch against his skin; the twinkle in his eye after gives it away, despite his pout and furrowed eyebrows. It’s the same any other time it’s happened, he realises, and he kicks himself for not catching on sooner. Wonwoo is glad he’s regarded as the quiet, observing type, for he gets the privilege to witness moments like these that the others might have missed.
♥
He wonders if he should go over to them and see if they’re all right, but Jihoon watches from the side as Mingyu’s hand is gentle on Minghao’s back, their heads close, and whispers low over to the side of the room. They all feel a burden upon them every so often, hell, he knows it all too well, and it starts to chip away at his heart as he watches Mingyu comforting the younger boy after just breaking away from their group pep talk. He just wrings his hands together, watching earnestly as Mingyu’s grip moves to his shoulders and he’s staring Minghao straight in the eye. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but Jihoon watches as the black-haired boy’s eyes twinkle with hope, head tilted ever so slightly to the side in the most endearing manner.
It doesn’t take long to see the change in the way the slender boy is standing, and Jihoon feels his own worries ease. Minghao takes a deep breath and a smile spreads wide across the taller boy’s face with a nod, hands still on the younger’s shoulders for support and nurture. It’s not the first time he’s seen them down, and although Jihoon wishes he could be the one to take all the pain they go through so none of them have to feel it, he is grateful none of them have to go through it alone. Whatever Mingyu has said seems to have made Minghao smile, and the sight is dazzling. He wonders if it was a joke they share, something only the two of them understand, or if it was just Mingyu reading Minghao perfectly the way he always does. If anyone can get Minghao through a rough patch—however big or small, he thinks—it’s Mingyu.
♥
What if they’re actually fighting for real, Seokmin thinks as he sits to the side of his same-ages friends, and me cracking a joke will just make the whole situation worse? Fleeting thoughts like that come and go so often nowadays with the amount the brunette finds himself in the presence of his friends arguing over the tiniest of things. He thinks, maybe, they enjoy winding each other up—in fact, he knows they do from the smirks drawn on their lips and the crinkles in the corners of their eyes. It’s just past midnight and it’s no longer Minghao’s birthday and so Mingyu explains there’s absolutely no excuse for him to pretend to like Minghao now and treat him nicely; Seokmin laughs into his hand and only watches the playful flick the taller boy receives to his forehead.
He doesn’t know how they find the energy or the time to bicker, but they do it over anything, and somehow Seokmin seems to find himself right in the middle of it all too often. Charming as it was watching Minghao struggle to fight with Mingyu with his fractured Korean early on in their debut, he feels genuinely sorry for the taller boy now with all the quick-witted remarks Minghao has picked up on. Seokmin feels a little tinge of jealousy underneath it all, watching as they slip so easily into this routine of bickering aimlessly; then within seconds they are laughing together as if they hadn’t been calling each other names. He constantly has to remind himself that this is how the two are—they’re not fighting, they’re playing, pushing and pulling off one another as they always do. With a shake of his head under his hoodie, he lets out another laugh as Minghao wraps his arm around his shoulder and observes the fake glares the two throw at each other, the hidden adoration behind their eyes.
♥
Seungkwan notices that it’s always Minghao to be the one to take the photo, whenever the two insist on taking a selfie. He laughs to himself, because he can see the joy Minghao takes from the taller boy’s irritation, but it never stops him from participating anyway. Minghao insists he takes better shots from better angles, and despite Mingyu’s incessant disagreement of the matter, Seungkwan has to agree. It’s kind of a shock and definitely a blessing when he is included one time in their little snapshot of life; he takes a certain pride in the fact the two of them want to document that moment with him, just sat there eating dinner like any regular day. Usually it’s just the two of them in their digital pictorial snap-book whenever they cease their squabbling and Mingyu sighs in defeat, surrendering to Minghao’s front camera—Seungkwan just hopes his hyungs don’t crop him out (though he’s sure Minghao is more likely to do that to Mingyu than anyone, so he feels slightly reassured).
He’s seen all the photos they post onto their social networks, the way Mingyu’s hand is always perfectly curled around Minghao’s shoulder and their heads angled towards one another subconsciously. But now, Seungkwan sees the aftermath too, the subtle twitch of Minghao’s lips as they curl into a small smile and laugh at the photo just taken, pointing out all the flaws Mingyu certainly does not have. It’s kind of intimate, their teasing, and Seungkwan finds the only way to stop his heart racing at their shoves and pinches around him is to make his own comment on the situation. He says it’s obvious who the real visual in the selca is (of course, it’s him), and all three of them pause for a second before bursting out into fits of giggles.
♥
It’s always Seungcheol and Jeonghan who are the self-proclaimed parents of their group, Hansol nods to himself as he picks up his dirty socks as requested, but when it comes to keeping their dorms clean and tidy, everyone knows who the real parents are. It’s like a flip switches in both his hyungs, Mingyu and Minghao going from laughing and joking with him one moment to reminding him that they have to share a room with him and they don’t want the place permanently smelling of his feet. It’s not just him that gets scolded for the untidy state of their dormitories—though, what did the two of them expect, really? They’re thirteen guys all living together every day, working their butts off to produce new music. Who really expects a neat and tidy living space? He dumps his laundry in the overflowing wash-basket and attempts to neaten out his bed covers under Minghao’s watchful eye. When he receives a small smile and nod, a raise of an eyebrow as if to ask “was that so hard?”, Hansol sighs and watches Minghao retreat back to Mingyu’s side where he usually belongs.
It’s very domestic; the way Mingyu and Minghao take care of the dorm, making sure everything that they touch at least is left spick and span, even with the taller boy’s clumsy tendencies. The elder of the two usually did the more hands-on jobs, but Minghao was always there to pass the light bulb from the ground whenever Mingyu was up the ladder. Hansol sometimes watches from the sofa as Minghao—without realising—will begin to pick up scattered objects on the coffee table, and in the blink of an eye Mingyu will be there to return the favour. Many hands make light work, and the two of them work together so well, he thinks. Of course, none of it comes without the pair of them wishing they all took a little more care of their living space, but Hansol is grateful for the effort and care the two of them put in to making them all feel comfortable.
♥
Chan can’t help but smile and giggle too as he watches the two wrap their arms around each other as they burst out into a fit of laughter. Okay, so maybe he’d deliberately minced his words a little just to see them all smile, but he takes particular notice of and warmth to Minghao and Mingyu who constantly fall into this routine. They support each other in so many ways, and holding each other up in case their legs give out from laughing is just one thing Chan picks up on between the two; their matching eye crinkles and way their mouths open in wide, toothy grins is another. He sees the way Minghao’s hands slip around Mingyu, hands curling into the fabric of his jumper, and how Mingyu’s soft touch follows, fingers encasing the boy’s thinner arms. Chan smiles wider.
Minghao’s giggle is light and airy, radiating joy from the recesses of his belly as he falls into the taller boy beside him. He watches as Mingyu’s eyes almost sparkle at the sound and his own fractured, breathy giggle matches his in harmony. It’s nice to see them laughing together, rather than teasing chuckles at each other’s expense, little jabs at their sides and fake frowns trying to show their faux irritation. Chan listens as their laughter fades but the smiles remain, hands still grasping tightly as if they’re melded together as one. He may be the youngest, but his heart warms at the sight and he hopes he can witness the sight of the pair of them laughing for the foreseeable future with the rest of the boys by his side.
♥
It’s become a habit that he’s not sure he likes, cooking for all thirteen of them. Mingyu had suggested they all get take out, but since he was already tidying up the kitchen after a messy lunch, the others had suggested he cook for them. So that’s what he was doing, and had been doing for the good part of an hour—still unfinished in his endeavours.
He doesn’t hate cooking at all; he’s extremely good at it and Mingyu guesses this is all in good practice for when he actually has his own kids to cook for and look after. The thought makes him chuckle as he sniffles and wipes his eyes with the back of his arm as he cuts the onions on the chopping board.
The footsteps are too light and faint that he doesn’t hear them over the sound of his knife and sniffles, trying to fight back the onion-induced tears. Until he feels his head being pushed forward lightly, Mingyu doesn’t glance up. Groaning at the sudden jerk of his head, Mingyu’s eyes find Minghao to his right, eyebrows raised in a questioning look. He points to the onions, swearing he wasn’t just crying out of nowhere and asks whether it was necessary for him to push his head like that. Minghao just laughs and pulls himself up on the counter, skinny legs swinging above the ground.
Mingyu’s grateful for the company in any case, even if he does focus best when he’s on his own and fully immersed in what he’s doing. But knowing Minghao is there, despite his teasing giggles, gives him the energy to keep going and want to make this the best meal yet.
They remain like that as Mingyu continues to prepare dinner, the only difference now is that when he realises he needs something, Minghao is already there, hand outstretched, ready with the item for him to take and add to the dish. Mingyu’s heart swells and his smile grows wide on his face. It’s the little things Minghao does that he loves the most, how he’s always there to lend a helping hand without being told to, even if it comes with a few snide remarks.
Minghao ends up helping him with the chicken and various other parts of the meal, the pair of them getting the job done twice as fast as he would have done on his own. Mingyu wishes he could stop the smile on his face as they’re plating everything up because it’s really starting to hurt his cheeks, but as they sit down for dinner, he fills his mouth with their jointly cooked meal and accepts the compliments from the rest of the boys. The meal doesn’t go by without a few playful jabs to his ribs from Minghao, insisting he helped too. Mingyu refuses to acknowledge it, but the smile still never leaves his lips as he sees Minghao’s annoyed pout. He’s won this time.
♥
Minghao is dripping with sweat as he wakes up with a start from what was possibly the most horrific nightmare he has ever had. His eyes burn, even in the pitch black of the dorm room, and as he bites down on his lip he is unable to hold back the tears that roll down his cheeks; they cut fiery tear trails into his skin, a painful reminder of what he had just experienced in his dark dream land.
Mingyu had died. Mingyu had died in his dream and he couldn’t stop it from happening. Breathing ragged, he tries to calm himself down and remind himself that it had all been in his head, that he was awake, that it hadn’t actually happened; none of it helped in the slightest.
A shuffling from across the room caused him to sink back down under the covers, trying to muffle his ragged cries with his duvet pressed tightly to his face. He really hoped he hadn’t woken anyone else up, because despite feeling awful himself, he couldn’t bear the thought of also making someone else lose their sleep. But, much to his chagrin, Minghao listened over his sobs to the sound of feet hitting the floor of their room and the springing of the mattress as a body left it.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Minghao curled up into a ball and wiped at his eyes some more, but in less than a minute he felt the other side of his covers being lifted. Minghao sniffed and frowned, craning his neck slowly to wince at the person now climbing into his bed in the dark.
It was Mingyu.
The taller boy struggled to crawl into Minghao’s bed, as the size of it was only a single; with a little moving around and silent words spoken between them, the pair managed to comfortably settle under the duvet together. Minghao faced Mingyu, lying on their side. Carefully, Mingyu’s hand reached out to wipe at the tear trails on his cheeks, eyes droopy from sleep but filled with what looked like concern (from what he could make out in the darkness of the room).
The slight brush of his hand was all that was needed for Minghao to whimper again quietly and bury his face into Mingyu’s chest, the other boy holding him tight, close. It’s the little things he loves the most about Mingyu. He was warm and he was alive and Minghao could hear his heartbeat as he was pressed firmly against his broad, pyjama-covered chest.
Suddenly, all his worries dissolved as he sunk deeper into Mingyu’s embrace, eyes shut, tears ceasing to exist. Soft breathing, warm against his hair lulled him back to sleep and this time Minghao knew nothing could go wrong because Mingyu was there, holding him and he would still be right there when he woke up in the morning.
♥
It’s the little things that they do that mean the most. The casual nudges and sudden bickering matches they think are overlooked. Sometimes it’s being there for each other when one has a vivid nightmare, or needs a helping hand in the kitchen.
They all wake up in the morning and see Minghao and Mingyu curled up together in the same bed with smiles painted across their lips. It’s nothing new and when they wake up it may just become something none of them talk about; they live with each other, eat, sleep, practice, laugh, talk together every day of their lives but it certainly doesn’t slip past any of them. Not their little things.