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Mingyu often wonders why he has hands, especially at this moment- as he's crouching over a mess of cola and broken glass, soaked rags and a broom in his clumsy hands.
What good are his hands if he's cursed with butter fingers?
Can't hold awards. Can't hold mics. Can't even hold a dumb glass. Mingyu you're such an idio- "AH!"
Mingyu leaned back on his heels and nursed his bleeding palm. The glass barely scratched him, but it sure did cut deep into his self-esteem.
"Mingyu."
He looked up and pouted at Jihoon standing in the doorway. Jihoon huffed out a "tsk" before turning and leaving the room as quickly as he had appeared.
Mingyu wishes he could have Jihoon's hands instead. Not only were Jihoon's long, slender fingers prettier than Mingyu's, they were also responsible for composing all of Seventeen's songs. Jihoon's hands are superior- when they wrote down new lyrics or tapped out a funky beat.
Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed Jihoon kneeling down in front of him.
"Give me." Jihoon ordered.
Mingyu stared for a second, jealous of Jihoon's outstretched, amazing hand before offering his useless, injured hand to the older.
Jihoon busied himself with disinfecting and bandaging Mingyu's palm as he started a small conversation.
"You're an idiot."
Mingyu watched Jihoon work, how did his hands look so graceful even while doing such a messy task? "I know."
"Don't beat yourself up for it, it's just a glass. We can always steal more from the other dorm." Jihoon reasurred, but the broken glass wasn't the problem.
"Yeah..." Mingyu trailed off, before continuing: "I wish I had your hands, Hoonie." He stated softly, barely audible to the other.
Jihoon looked up from working for the first time and met Mingyu's eyes.
"Why would you say something dumb like that?"
"You just... your hands create, and mine destroy. Your hands are better."
"Why? I can't draw or cook like you. I couldn't have designed a felt toy from scratch. I can't catch fish or build absurd gadgets like you did in the jungle. Why would you want mine, when you can do so much with yours? You're hands are perfectly fine, even for a big oaf like you."
Jihoon was noticeably upset, but sometimes Mingyu needs the blunt truth with no sugarcoating. Jihoon seems to be the only one available to offer that most of the time. Mingyu is lucky to have him as a roommate to keep him grounded.
Just because Jihoon's hands are different, and can do different things, that doesn't mean his hands are any less. He began to appreciate his hands for what they could do, and what they could create.
He was proud of the lyrics he wrote, of the many Bong Bong variations he made.
He loved Jihoon's face after he cooked his favorite meal, or the mess he made when he ruffled Jihoon's hair.
He loved how his and Jihoon's hands fit together- how, although they're the same size, they complimented each other perfectly. Mingyu's warm, Jihoon's cold.
"Hoonie," Mingyu's voice was timid, but assured "can we watch a movie tonight and maybe just hold hands."
"Ew, no." Jihoon dropped Mingyu's bandaged hand and before Mingyu even had time to be upset, he picked up his other hand. "That one's bloody. I'll hold this one instead."
"Hoonie, that's soft" Mingyu cooed, smiling as he watched Jihoon's ears turn into his favorite shade of red.
"Shut up, it's just because you're injured." Jihoon's voice was stable, but his embarrassment was visible from a mile away. "Get up, I'm making you watch anime with me for that comment."
Mingyu smiled as Jihoon leaned his head against his shoulder, shielding his eyes with his hair to keep Mingyu from noticing he was tearing up.
(He pretended not to notice for Jihoon's sake, even though this was the 6th time he's watched Your Lie in April and he cried at the same scene every time.)
This moment felt right. Maybe, above all, his hands' main purpose is to hold the hands he admired most. He wouldn't mind dropping a few more glasses if he could stay like this forever.