Chapter Text
Minhyun wants to say that he’s shocked, but the truth is he really isn’t surprised when Minki decides to kick him out of what was once his room.
“I’m not giving you your room back, and the lease to this apartment ends when our Pledis contract ends in March, anyway,” Minki says, a little too nonchalantly. Minhyun feels his eye twitch. “The CEO says we’ll move to a five-bedroom apartment once the lease expires and if we all re-sign with Pledis. Which is what’s happening anyway, so it’ll only be for three months!”
Minki had always been fiercely independent, and having had tasted freedom from JR’s nagging and constant late-night game sessions for the past year and a half – really, Minhyun understands where Minki was coming from. Frankly, he doesn’t care, and rooming with any one of his members for three months sounds infinitely better than staying in the five-membered room in the Wanna One dorms.
(He loved his Wanna One roommates to death, will miss them dearly, will cry endlessly when he inevitably has to move out. But he honestly almost went insane because of Jaehwan’s inability to clean up, Jihoon and Woojin’s constant need to give in to their violent tendencies, and Guanlin… Guanlin was fine. Guanlin was a good roommate.)
“You can room with Jonghyun,” Minki says over the phone. “Jonghyun wouldn’t care. Or Dongho, probably, but you wouldn’t like that.”
“I’ll think about it. You’re awful. That was my room.”
It crosses his mind how how funny this whole situation is – as it stands now, he’s one of the top-earning idols in South Korea, one of Pledis’ greatest assets, and all that power goes to shit when it comes to dealing with his teammates for the past nine years. It’s even funnier when he realizes that he likes that fact.
“It’s been my room longer than it was yours!” Minki retorts. Minhyun realizes he can’t argue with that; they had only recently moved to the four-bedroom apartment before Produce 101. “And whatever. You love me anyway.” He swears he could hear Minki stick out his tongue as he hangs up the phone. Minhyun really misses him.
The thing is, he doesn’t want to room with Jonghyun. He knew of the leader’s hectic schedules, how his life constantly moved from one variety show to another, to dance practice, to their group schedules and fansigns. Minhyun knew of Jonghyun’s tendency to overwork himself to the point of exhaustion, and not interfering in Jonghyun’s solo room honestly seems like the biggest favor he can do for his leader. Aron-hyung wasn’t an option either: even if Aron had been his roommate during the holidays they shared together in his home in Busan, even if Aron would probably be the best choice of a roommate because of their closeness, their similar personalities and their synchronized sleep-wake schedules, Minhyun respected the fact that Aron was a hyung, and that hyungs really deserve the nicest things in the apartment. Aron wouldn’t mind – “I’m American, there’s no such thing as hyung-dongsaeng in America, Minhyun-ah.” -- Minhyun would.
So he calls Baekho. All things considered, he’s not the most ideal roommate, but he’s the only one left, and though he can think of a million and one reasons why he doesn’t want to room with Baekho (there’s a reason why they stopped being roommates in the first place), the reasons why he didn’t want to room with Jonghyun and Aron seem greater in terms of importance.
(At least, this is what he tells himself as he waits for Baekho to pick up, but these are the thoughts at the back of his mind:
First, he misses his best friend.
Second, he misses the giant bear hugs and the fact that Baekho somehow manages to listen to him when he ends up talking all night long.
Third, he misses the sarcasm and the realism, the late-night drives to Busan, the impromptu duets, nights spent in Baekho’s room studying music composition, how peaceful Baekho looks at seven in the morning when he’s dead to the world and Minhyun is already wide awake and he gets to appreciate how --)
“Hwang Minhyun?”
“Dongho-ya, let me use your room.”
“Wait, what?”
“Minki kicked me out and I don’t want to ask Jonghyun or Aron-hyung,” Minhyun explains. “Jonghyun is too busy… Aron-hyung is… Aron is a hyung.” Dongho will understand, he knows this. He also predicts that Dongho will respond sarcastically.
“Yah, and you feel like you can ask me for a space in my room?”
“Yes.” He’ll get what he wants in 3… 2…
Dongho bursts into laughter. Minhyun thinks that it sounds nice. “Eh. Okay. Honestly, I figured you’d ask after Minki decided to snake you, so I tried to clean up. It probably won’t meet your standards but whatever. See you next week.”
“Kang Dongho, I love you!” Minhyun exclaims as he hangs up. It occurs to him that his best friend did not just understand – Dongho was a full step ahead of him, ready to accommodate him at a moment’s notice. He is reminded that beyond his strong man image, beyond all the damn walls Dongho built around his heart, despite the year and a half they spent apart, Kang Dongho will always have a soft spot for Hwang Minhyun.
Minhyun finds it hard to stop smiling for the rest of that afternoon.
Minhyun comes back to the Nu’est dorms exactly a week after Wanna One disbands. Nothing much had changed since the last time he visited: shoes were strewn near the front door, dirty dishes were left in the sink, and clothes – was that his sweater? – were lying around everywhere. He feels a strong urge to drop everything and clean, but then Aron and Minki suddenly have him in an embrace, JR is welcoming him back, and Dongho is cheering unenthusiastically in the background. Minhyun somehow catches Dongho’s eye and shoots him a glare; the shorter man waves back sheepishly, a gigantic smile blooming on his face. Minhyun finds himself overcome with the urge to hug Dongho. He supposes that can wait until later.
“Guys, this house is a mess,” Minhyun says. “Minki stole my room, and I come home to a dirty house. I thought you guys loved me?”
“I mean, you were coming home anyway, so we didn’t bother cleaning up,” Dongho started, earning a glare from JR. “What? It’s the truth. We were all thinking the same way.”
“At least Jonghyunnie, Minki and Aron-hyung have the decency to look ashamed… you… you’re so--!”
Dongho shrugs. “It’s a good thing you miss me—”
“Yah, when did I ever say that?”
“We’re so ashamed, Minhyunnie~ so we bought galbi jjim from that place you liked!” Minki piped up, seemingly sensing that it was his time to intervene or else the two would go on forever. “And Aron-hyung will cook that pasta you like so much!”
“Did you just volunteer me to cook, Minki?"
“Would you rather I cook for Minhyun?” Minki responds dryly, glaring pointedly at the older man. Beside Minki, JR is laughing silently, eyes shining with mirth.
Minhyun blinks once, twice. He should be feeling irritated, but instead relief floods through his veins, his heart feels like it’s filled with an overwhelming warmth. He was afraid that coming home would mean distance, would mean contrived conversations and awkward silences, that it would mean he’d be treated like a stranger. He’s never been so glad to be wrong. A year and a half and not much had changed.
“Yeah, I do miss you, Baekho. I missed all of you. Let’s eat,” Minhyun says, as he drapes himself around Dongho’s shoulders, letting himself be dragged by the shorter boy to the dining area.
(He chooses to keep this to himself: he’d really missed the boys, but he also misses this, the feeling of wrapping his long arms around Dongho’s wide frame, the familiar smell of musk cologne mixing with his favorite aftershave when he buries his face in Dongho’s neck; he’s missed the goosebumps he knows he can elicit from Dongho’s skin if he breathes at that junction between his neck and his shoulder; he relishes in the fact that Dongho is sturdy enough, is strong enough, is there to support him in every sense of the word.)