Chapter Text
1
Mingi has never seen something with so many teeth. Not even at the zoo. There was this… thing sitting on the edge of his bed where his feet still tangled with his sheets motionless. It was so dark in his room this deep into the night that he could barely make out the creature’s gnarled body, its small torso hunched over its legs and gripping its ankles with hands sharper than talons. It was a creature that didn’t make sense, its grotesque head too large, its feet resembling the hooves of a horse, and the wicked tongue of a snake rolling out long enough to reach Mingi’s cheeks if it wanted it to. And it just sat there on the end of his bed. Watching him.
Mingi wanted to run away, to get as far away from this thing as possible.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t run, he couldn’t even tremble with the icy fear flooding through his body. Couldn’t even raise his voice enough to shout for help from his group members all of whom slept peacefully just further down the hall. He was paralyzed from head to toe with only his chest able to breath, his brain able to think, and his eyes able to peer into the shadows of his room. He squeezed them shut. A choked sound managed to claw out of his throat, a whimper that could have been a prayer for a divine savior or another stoppered cry for help.
No, no, no. Please not again. Please stop. Stop!
Mingi blinked his eyes open to find that the creature has now grown a pair of horns from the top of its shadowy head. They were still growing, spiraling in on themselves as they grew taller and taller until they scraped against Mingi’s ceiling, and he so very badly wanted for this sick punishment to end. He was well aware what sleep paralysis was; his mind logically knew that this creature watching him was nothing more than a hallucination cooked up by his own overactive brain sabotaging itself, but that knowledge did nothing to steady his frantic heart when that creature finally moved. It reached out one hand that had at least three knuckles too many in each of its fingers and pressed down on the center of Mingi’s chest.
It pressed down with so much force, it’s hand so impossibly heavy that Mingi could no longer breath. He felt his body spasm, he should be able to open his mouth, but he could not draw air into his lungs. His vision was poked through with black spots as panic seized him. That ugly, demonic thing smiled at him, pressed down harder on his chest, and another whimper, louder this time, escaped his throat, forced out of him by desperation.
“Mingi?”
His bedroom door was pushed open. Someone’s phone flashlight shone over him as brilliant as a beacon from heaven. But for one moment that stretched itself into an eternity, Mingi was still frozen, still staring straight into the crazed, bloodshot eyes of the creature, and saw the empty madness that resided there as it still crushed his chest under its hand.
Then he was released. It was gone. He could breathe.
He sucked in a trembling breath and held it close like a precious treasure. Then he burst into a flood of tears.
“Mingi!”
Through his tears, Mingi saw Wooyoung’s small figure rush to his bedside and a citrus smell left over from his shampoo washed over him. What was he doing being up so late at night? Mingi quickly decided he didn’t have the mental capacity to care about such small things as Wooyoung climbed into his bed and cradled his shaking form in the warmth of his arms. A steady hand worked through his blonde hair and a low whisper shushed his tinny cries.
“Shh, shh now. You’re okay. You’re home with all of us at the dorm, and I’m here now. It’s all okay.”
Wooyoung didn’t rush him, only tried to keep him quiet enough to not wake the others. They’ve all had long days, long weeks, and sleep was more valuable to them than any paycheck. So he gently pushed Mingi back against the pillows and settled down with him. He let Mingi rub his tears and snot into the front of his shirt without complaint, more worried about the ceaseless shaking of his friend than anything else. And Mingi will never be able to be honest enough to tell him how much that consideration meant in secret moments like these.
Being the middle of the night, both of them were only dressed in old sleep shirts and boxer briefs to battle the summer’s dire heat. But none of that made Mingi think even twice about latching onto Wooyoung and clinging close enough to practically be lying on top of him on his bed. He didn’t care. He wanted Wooyoung to make everything better. To chase away the shivers running down his spine and the tremors still lingering in his fingertips. The warm hand rubbing along his back was a good start.
It took a moment, maybe several, but soon enough Mingi’s crying died to a few wet hiccups, his late-night fright startling his body in all kinds of ways. But they remained in the quiet; Wooyoung didn’t try to ask him about what happened, and Mingi didn’t offer one either. It was too scary to even speak about that damn creature; he just wanted to forget and sink back into sleep. But what if it happened again? When he was home and had trouble sleeping, he would go to his mother’s arms and sleep with her in her nice, big, and comfy bed. Even when he was in secondary school and grown enough to take care of himself.
It was just better to be with someone on nights like this. Someone to protect him from all that crawled around in the dark. Even from the shadows that came from his mind. But how could he ask that of Wooyoung? They were friends, closer than friends as group members working together for their dreams. But there were still boundaries. It would be uncomfortable for Wooyoung to share a bed with him especially when his own is just down the hall and Mingi was a damn adult and it was so hot tonight despite their air conditioning’s best efforts and it was just a fucked up episode of sleep paralysis that was over now and Wooyoung had already done enough to help him and he can shake it off and and and
But all those teeth… and that smile. And those crazy fucking eyes.
Mingi whimpered as the image of that horrid creature flashed before him again. He hugged his friend even closer to him. Immediately Wooyoung’s other hand went back to his hair and a soft humming filled the small space between them. Wooyoung was trying to sing him to sleep. Mingi felt tears prickle his eyes again, but he swallowed them down. He took a deep breath, dragging that fresh, calming scent of citrus into himself. He wrapped his long arms around Wooyoung’s chest and squeezed the man to him a little tighter. The image of Wooyoung as his glorified, personal teddy bear made him smile enough to risk facing the dark once again.
“‘M okay now. Th-“
“Can I sleep here with you? Don’t wanna get up again.” The words were whispered into his hair as Wooyoung held him tightly and didn’t let him pull back enough to search his eyes for the truth. So Mingi stopped looking for it. He kept quiet, settled down into his thin blankets, and let his eyes slip shut. Wooyoung kept up his humming and didn’t move away even as they drifted closer and closer to sleep.
“Thank you, Wooyoungie.”
Mingi felt the kiss pressed into his temple, and he fell asleep with a small smile on his lips.
2-
His room was dark. Of course, it was. It was well into the night, the clock’s hands creeping towards the smallest numbers on its face. Wooyoung glared into that darkness. His hands incessantly picked at his sheets already half-kicked off him from the heat. Heavy breathing and light snores from his two roommates filled the quiet night with their steady rthythm. They should annoy him; he’d often chuck a pillow at Jongho to get him to shut up, but tonight he only felt jealousy. The poisonious feeling coursed through him stronger and stronger with every hour he laid there listening to those soft, peaceful sounds.
When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he sat up with a huff and quietly made his way out of the room. He’ll just spend the night on the couch again, counting all the leaves on the plants in their livingroom and trying to stay away from his phone. He really wont get to sleep at all if he starts scrolling on any of his socials. And there should be 473 leaves according to the last three times he counted. But one or a few could have fallen off since then. It was possible. Maybe if they were real houseplants.
He stepped carefully through the hall to remain quiet, but he never made it to the livingroom. There was an unusual noise; something that sounded like gasping, like stuttering shallow breathing, and whimpers quieter than a mouse. It was the same sound that haunted him some nights these past couple of weeks. Wooyoung stood frozen as his ears strained to decipher exactly what he was hearing and where it was coming from. But he already had a hunch; a horrible hunch that he wished wouldn’t turn out to be true. He went to stand by Mingi’s door, listening closely.
It was the exact same as last time; he pushed open the door to find Mingi lying prone on his bed, eyes open but body completely motionless. He looked terrified, just staring down his bed and struggling to breath steady, and it was a repeat of the same scene that had been burned into his mind whenever he was the misfortune of staying up too late. He knew what sleep paralysis was now, after one long night of websearching sleeping disorders and reading story after story of its terrifying hallucinations. He hadn’t slept well that night either. And he couldn’t stand to watch Mingi be its prisoner for another second.
He didn’t hesitate to run onto his friend’s bed and firmly grab his shoulder, attempting to startle him out of the paralysis like he had been able to do last time.
“Mingi, Minmin! Wake up!”
But it didn’t work. Mingi didn’t move a muscle, not even a twitch. Only his eyes flicked over to stare up at him, pleading for him to make this real-life nightmare stop. His eyes were open so wide that Wooyoung could see his own scared self reflected back in those brown irises. A single tear slipped down his cheek which Woyoung quickly thumbed away. The sight of it sent a crack through his heart. He didn’t know what to do, how to help. He could only try to reassure him that it’ll all be over soon.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s going to be okay soon; I’m here. I won’t let it hurt you.” Wooyoung repeated the words over and over as he brushed back Mingi’s blonde hair. It was damp with sweat, sticking to his fingers, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the heat or the fear.
Sleep paralysis episodes only lasted a minute or two, but as that minute stretched on longer and longer, Wooyoung leaned over Mingi, placing a hand on the bed on his other side, and tried to completely take up his line of sight. Tried to block out whatever creature or demon or monster might be lurking in the shadows of his room. He didn’t know it would help or make it worse, but he had to do something. Anything other than just sitting there watching one of his most precious friends be scared to death.
And maybe it did help; suddenly Mingi was blinking rapidly and his body started to shake all over. He burst into a fit of heavy panting just like he had last time, like he hadn’t been able to even breathe while paralzyed. He wasn’t crying though, just reached out for Wooyoung with trembling hands and a silent request in his eyes.
Hold me?
Wooyung let out his own held breath, his next inhale also shakey as relief flooded through him. Mingi was alright. They were both fine. Without wasting another moment, he latched himself to Mingi’s side, guiding the other to lay his head on his chest. He wrapped one arm around Mingi’s waist to pull him as close as he could and tried to put the other around the man’s shoulders but they were too broad. He settled for resting his hand against the nape of Mingi’s neck where his fingers lightly scratched through the cropped buzz of his undercut.
It was a long time before Mingi spoke. He had finally stopped shaking, but he held onto two fists of Wooyoung sleep shirt for dear life. His voice crackled and broke between words like he hadn’t spoken in a year. Wooyoung didn’t want to know what on earth he could have seen that made him become so rattled. So shaken to his core. But appearantly Mingi didn’t want to talk about it either.
“Wooyoung… why are you up so late again?” He asked instead. Wooyoung laughed, he couldn’t stop it. It was a humorless sound.
Why does he want to know about such stupid things after he just had a small piece of hell in his own bedroom? When I can still see the fear leftover in his eyes.
“I got up to get a glass of water. This weather is drying me out like crazy.”
If Mingi noticed that he didn’t have any cup or drink with him, then he didn’t mention it. Just lifted himself up enough to press a quick kiss to the base of Wooyoung’s neck. A silent thank you maybe for coming to help him again. And he didn’t ask him to stay this time. Wooyoung didn’t annouce that he would be staying for the night either. He just did. And Mingi just let him. They snuggled with only the thin sheet over them, the body warmth cooking between them enough to keep them comfortable.
Mingi was so warm against him, but not like the nauseating heat of hot summer nights that kept Wooyoung tossing and turning. Mingi radiated a gentle warmth, just the right temperature to be comforting. His body was draped across Wooyoung like a giant, weighted, heated blanket that pressed him into the mattress. Pressed him into the quiet embrace of sleep.
Wooyoung didn’t get it. He didn’t understand why his eyes suddenly felt so heavy, why it seemed impossible to keep them open any longer when hours of YouTube sleep-help compliations couldn’t even make him yawn. Maybe it was just exhaustion after the rush of fear-induced adrenaline from watching Mingi struggle through another sleep paralysis episode. At least, that’s what he going to tell himself for tonight. Even as he buried his nose into Mingi’s hair and squeezed the man tighter to himself until sleep forced his grip to loosen.
3
Mingi knew it was going to be a long day. He had known it was going to be a long day since last Sunday when the group was reviewing their upcoming schedules, and yet the feeling of complete exhaustion still managed to blindside him like getting T-boned by a truck. He had prepared for this, had calculated the maximum hours of sleep he could get away with every night and he even managed to hit that maximum most nights this week. But it wasn’t enough. Last night, he slept for 5 hours. The night before that had been 4. He doesn’t remember 3 days ago. It was just one of those weeks.
They had deadlines to meet. Today had started with dance practice shifted up to start at 10am instead of the usual noon so Hongjoong and Mingi could rush over to the recording studio as soon as possible to join the production team. As rappers, song writers, and budding producers, they tried to help the main producing team as much as they can for the mentorship, the opportunity to practice, and to soak up everything they could about the creative process of song production. It was the best thing to do to help them get better, even if it cost upwards of a dozen hours of sleep every week. The production team just never stopped, always creating and revising, creating and revising, looking towards the next comeback and the one after that before the current promotions even wrapped up.
That was just how it worked, and it was a sacrifice Mingi was happy to make most days. But not today. It was now headed into hour number 10 in the studio. Straight. Someone had run out to grab takeout dinner for everyone and they ate while they worked. The rest of the group had joined them at the studio about 3 hours ago for revision recordings, and while they were almost there, they still weren’t quite done yet. Mingi was ready to tear his hair out as one hyung asked Yunho to repeat his lines from the top one more time. But it would be too much effort to raise his hand to his scalp. He just gave a slow blink instead and said nothing, standing vigilant over the production team’s shoulders. Waiting to be called on for help.
He caught sight of Wooyoung coming over to him and looked away. Wooyoung was already done his recordings, and despite whatever it was he wanted, Mingi couldn’t let it distract him.
“Hey. Come sit on the couch with us.” Wooyoung said as he tugged on the sleeve of Mingi’s oversized hoodie. He preferred clothes that were too big for him; they gave him extra space to hide in when he wanted to. His hood was flipped up to cover his head, so he could block Wooyoung out when he turned away again. He can’t sit on the couch now. He’ll be asleep before his head hit the backrest; he could already tell.
“No thanks. There’s no room.” He mumbled with a small shake of his head. It was the most he could muster right now. It was taking all of his focus to just remain upright on his feet. But Wooyoung didn’t retreat.
“I made room. Come over.”
“No. I’m fine Woo, let it go.”
“No.”
So Mingi ignored him. He’ll go away eventually; no one was more stubborn than Mingi. Only maybe Hongjoong and only maybe sometimes.
Mingi watched Yunho through the glass dividing the recording booth. It didn’t feel like he was really watching him though, each blink coming by slower and his head struggling to remain upright and attentive. He had to be on his feet when it got this late like this. He had to as it was the only thing keeping him awake.
But one moment he was very determinedly watching Yunho wrap up his recording, and in the next, he was waking up.
When did I…?
His head rested on a firm shoulder. His face pressed into a warm neck, and someone’s arms were locked around his middle, keeping him steady. But he was still on his feet, standing up but his body slumped into another of much shorter stature for support. How could he have fallen asleep standing up? That didn’t really happen to people did it? The smell of citrus filled his nose. No one in the room was speaking. He couldn’t even hear Yunho singing anymore.
“What…” He rumbled, his voice conspiring against him and sounding squashed.
“Come.” Wooyoung said again. He was the one who caught him.
“F-fine. Not sleeping anymore though. ‘M helping still.”
Wooyoung just hummed in response as he walked them over to the couch. Mingi huffed, a little irritated at how excessive it all seemed. He was just sleepy; he could still walk by himself. But he didn’t try to fight it, not when Wooyoung’s grip around his waist had a sense of urgency to it. Like he was scared there would be consquences if he let Mingi go for even a second. Wooyoung had him sit down first then slid onto the couch cushion next to him. Everyone went back to work.
Mingi did manage to not fall asleep within the first minute of sitting on the couch. He still managed to contribute a little, pulling up some sound samples for the producer hyungs to review when they got stuck on revision for the bridge. But slowly he was sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. His eyelids grew heavier every minute or maybe someone swiped some eyelash glue on him to keep them stuck together when he was zoning out.
When his head started the tired battle of keeping up right, a hand quietly cupped the back of his neck. It guided his head to lean back and rest against the same shoulder that had caught him before: Wooyoung. He had slouched so low on the couch; it was comfortable now to tuck his head into Wooyoung’s shoulder despite the height difference. But when had the other man snuck his arm around Mingi’s shoulders? Why was he pulling Mingi closer, forcing him to curl into his side when they were still in the studio? They had work to do.
“You’re sabatoging me.” He said, voice barely above a whisper. Wooyoung flicked at his ear, and he would not be embarrassed for the soft whine he let out at the sharp pain.
“I would argue that you’re sabatoging yourself. But we’ll talk about it later.”
“No.”
That was the last thing he said that night. Always so stubborn and willing to die on every petty hill. But he couldn’t deny how nice it felt to relax against Wooyoung’s soft body. It felt nicer than the couch. Maybe he was getting a little too used to sleeping in Wooyoung’s arms.
The next time Mingi remembers waking up, he was leaning against Wooyoung in one of the company cars headed back to their dorm. Then he was in his bed with Wooyoung sleeping steadily beside him. Then it was morning, and it was the best night of sleep he’s had in weeks. The last time he slept that well was when Wooyoung had stayed with him after his sleep paralysis weeks ago. But he didn’t dwell on that for now. There was still too much work to do.
4
Wooyoung loved coming to the United States. Everything was so big and bustling and eccentric in a way that only a country completely obsessed with itself can be. It was always new and exciting and a little bit riduclous but Wooyoung liked that energy. He felt like it suited him.
But he hated getting to the United States. There was no getting around it, the time difference sucked ass. Every time they flew over, they essentially had to relive the same day and power through the exhaustion for over 12 hours to try and get their body to hop onto the time shift as soon as possible.
Usually, they were given a full day to allow for this adjustment, but this time, someone from the company seriously fucked up somewhere because they had an interview scheduled for the very next morning after they arrived. Early in the morning. Needless to say, someone got quite the earful from a jetlagged Hongjoong, but there wasn’t much they could do about it now. They could only suck it up and suffer through it. Maybe receive a delicious, iced treat afterwards as a lackluster apology. But some people were able to do that much better than others.
Mingi was not one of those people.
Through the grapevine i.e. San, Wooyoung found out that their rapper didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. And he already knew that he didn’t really sleep on the plane either, because Wooyoung hadn’t been able to rest as well and the two had made knowing, but shy side glances the entire flight. But even if he didn’t have all that information, he would have quickly figured out that something was up because Mingi was, well. Being a bit of an asshole.
He already snapped at 3 people and it wasn’t even 8 in the morning yet. Each one was just a small yet biting comment, picking and poking at anyone who dared approach him. He refused to play with Jongho when the maknae had tried to lighten the mood. All he received was a death glare for his best efforts. Mingi’s bright grin was nowhere to be seen. Even Yunho could hardly drag a smile out of him. Wooyoung’s heart panged with longing to see it again. Sooner rather than later.
Then the interview was delayed. Something about their microphones not working without any extras at hand and a leak that needed to be fixed. So, they had to wait for who knows how long which meant who knows how much longer they all had to go before they could crawl back in bed and set their internal clocks right.
“They wake us up and drag us out here just to do fucking what? Nothing! I can’t fucking believe this!” Mingi growled out as he paced back and forth in the provided waiting room. The heavy bags that hung under his eyes were dark enough that their shadow remained even under a generous layer of concealer. No one answered him, they knew he wasn’t looking for a proper response. It would just risk provoking him more.
Something had to be done. They couldn’t go into an interview with everyone tense and walking on eggshells like this. Wooyoung took a deep breath, counted to 7, and stepped into Mingi’s pacing path. The taller man startled, his eyes snapped up to accost Wooyoung in slitted annoyance, but Wooyoung cut off whatever mean little remark before it could even jump from his silver tongue.
“Can you take a nap with me?”
A careful question. A sneaky question. He didn’t actually feel tired enough to sleep though jet jag weighed down his body like chains. But this way he was the one asking for Mingi’s help, staying clear of implying that Mingi was the one who really needed help. It caught the man off guard, his scowling demeanor replaced with confusion then suspicion.
“Sorry, but I can’t sleep now. Who knows when this stupid thing is going to start.” He said with his arms crossed over his chest. Guard up. Senses on red alert. Wooyoung will have to be careful, because while Mingi liked to be babied and doted on, he absolutely hated being treated like an actual child who can’t make decisions himself. He can take care of himself; he just liked it when people occasionally did it for him. It was a razor thin line, and Wooyoung found himself recently becoming an expert in walking the tightrope.
“Can you help me take a nap though? I can’t fall asleep without something to hold onto. Please?”
For a moment, Wooyoung was sure Mingi would say no. He could see the irritation, the exhaustion and a streak of selfishness, flare up in his eyes. But then all of it died. Mingi’s shoulders slumped. His body seemed to collapse a little bit on itself like a popped balloon deflating. Wooyoung almost felt bad until he remembered his real goal behind the nap.
But why does he look so small? So… lost.
Maybe he was only agreeing out of some sense of obligation. Debts to be paid, favors to be returned. Wooyoung will take it and use it to his advantage even if he didn’t agree with the premise in the first place. Mingi didn’t owe him anything just because Wooyoung helped him fall asleep a few times. Friends just helped with those kinds of things.
Friends…
Mingi coughed into his hand and snapped Wooyoung out of his hesitation. He grabbed Mingi’s wrist and dragged him over to the last empty couch in the room. He made sure to lay down first then patted the space between his legs. Then his chest. He wanted Mingi to lay on top of him again. He wanted to cuddle with his living weigthed blanket one more time. The man just raised his eyebrows at him, at the ridiculous suggestion in a public place like this, and a grin broke over Wooyoung’s face.
“Need to hold something, remember?”
There was that hesitation again, that grumbling, but it didn’t last for even a moment before Mingi was laying down, his chest to Wooyoung’s front and this actually wasn’t what he originally had in mind. A blush started to heat up Wooyoung’s neck. He thought Mingi would lay on him back to chest, not chest to chest where their faces were so close to each other and Wooyoung could make out every perfect hair in Mingi’s perfect eyebrows and each ridge along his plump lips.
Wooyoung liked to count things, okay?
But this was okay. Or was it? When he looked around no one was really paying them any attention, so this wasn’t that weird. If they slept this close together in a bed, what was the difference of sleeping like this in an interview waiting room?
Everything.
But he didn’t push Mingi away. They settled down together with Mingi’s face buried in his chest and away from the harsh brightness of fluorescent lights. Wooyoung’s hands clasped together on top of his lower back, maybe too low, but it allowed him to hold the taller man close to himself. This certainly wasn’t the best position for Mingi’s back as his body was bowed like a ship’s hull, his feet sticking out all the over on the other arm rest since he’s so damn tall. But Wooyoung made up for it by slipping a hand under Mingi’s loose shirt and rubbing his fingers along his spine. A little bit of a massage, a little bit of comforting pats and Mingi was melting into him completely boneless.
A contented hum left his big lips which were tinted a soft cherry red for their interview. Wooyoung didn’t comment on the matching red shade of Mingi’s ears, and in return Mingi didn’t point out the heated flush of his own tan skin. They were good at ignoring things together. Wooyoung could get used to this indulgence.
Mingi did manage to fall asleep, but it took a long while for his body to get the memo that it was time to shut down. Wooyoung watched on as his eyes started to open less and less, how they stayed closed for longer intervals while his head lolled to one side so he could breathe properly while asleep. How he nuzzled his cheek against Wooyoung’s soft cotton shirt while his breathing evened out to a slow steady pool. Even when unconscious, his whole body wanted to be closer. Wooyoung didn’t realize how hard he was smiling until San texted him to stop looking like an idiot from across the room.
And he really didn’t expect to fall asleep as well. He had been awake and wired well before their managers had come to collect them this morning, but there was just something about holding Mingi that made his every muscle relax. The tension drained from his body, and he was left dozing in a light nap before he even felt his head rest back against the couch cushions.
It was a sleep light enough to dream, and Mingi was still there with him. Still in his arms and smililng up at him with that full grin and cute crooked front teeth. His face glowed in the golden hour of sunlight, and Wooyung didn’t want to let him go. When Mingi was happy, when Mingi was smiling his brightest smile full of teeth and gums and bunched up cheeks, he radiated a warmth that even the sun couldn’t replicate. Wooyoung laid back and sunbathed in that delicate, sweet warmth. Floated in it. Soaked in it.
But it was probably a mistake that they both fell asleep. It had left them defenseless.
When the interviewers were finally ready to start, Wooyoung awoke to quiet laughter. His eyes opened to his group members standing in a circle around Seonghwa’s phone each of them trying to smother their giggles, and Wooyoung dropped his head back down with a groan.
“Don’t post it anywhere, guys. C’mon.” He called out, words sluggish and still tinged with sleep.
“Too late~” Came Hongjoong’s sing-songed reply, and Wooyoung rolled his eyes, giving up quickly. Hopefully whatever evidence the boys had on them wasn’t too bad. He looked down to Mingi still sleeping in his arms and started to rustle him awake. He looked so peaceful, but they really had to go now.
“Mingi-yah. Wake up, baby, it’s time for the interview.” Wooyoung watched on carefully as Mingi struggled to lift his head and blink his eyes open to the bright room.
His eyes really are so pretty.
Mingi stretched like a cat on top of him, arms thrown over his head and feet rolling in circles with his toes pointed. Wooyoung gazed steadfastedly up at the ceiling as he tried to ignore how good it felt to have Mingi arch into him like that. His blush came back, darker and more spread out than before, but he chugged an entire bottle of water to will the flared heat away.
As they got up, Mingi flashed him a shy smile and murmured a quiet thank you. It was only a small nap, but the man already looked more like a real person instead of a walking live wire. Wooyoung’s plan worked. He really was able to help.
The interview started and Wooyoung had to wait 2 whole hours until he could see the stolen pictures. There were three. One was of Seonghwa and Yeosang hovering over them smiling serenely and throwing up a matching set of peace signs as Wooyoung and Mingi slept on unbothered. The second had Yunho pinching Mingi’s cheek and San giving Wooyoung devil horns with his hands as the two made grossed-out faces at the camera. Then the third was just of Wooyoung and Mingi; the pair asleep together in peace on the couch with Mingi’s face tucked in the dark crevice between his arm and the cushions and Wooyoung’s hand threaded through his hair.
He didn’t even remember when his hand got up there.
They were all together embarrassing photos that Wooyoung groaned at the sight of and at the wild response from their fans. Wooyoung’s mouth is wide open in all of them, and his hair is flopped over at a weird angle from the hairspray. He will have to get revenge for them later, maybe eat some of Yeosang’s leftovers at some point or switch Yunho’s nice shampoo with a dollar store 3-in-1 brand.
But none of that stopped him from saving the last photo in his phone though. That one became his lockscreen.
5
There were no monsters in his room this time. It wasn’t even that dark considering the streetlights outside that managed to glow through the drawn curtains. America was so bright, so shiney. So far, far away from home.
It was the third week now that they were promoting their comeback in the United States. Their days were filled with interviews, dance challenges, concert performances, YouTube guest appearances, modeling shoots, and filming for a reality show program. And Mingi was barely holding it together. He wasn’t having fun anymore; there was an awful ache in his heart. Each heartbeat merely an echo of that same dull pain that couldn’t seem to go away.
He dragged the heavy hotel comforter over his head and tried to take deep breathes in the calm repreieve of his cacoon. But it was too late, he felt the tears beginning to build up at the corners of his eyes. Threatening to fall and to fall soon. He didn’t want to wake up San, and he didn’t want to cry all alone either. There was only one person he could go to.
Before he left the room, before he could venture out into that long, dark hallway separating him and a decent night’s sleep, Mingi went over to his raggedy shoulderbag to grab a friend. He unclipped one of his pokemon stuffed plushy keychains, making sure to take the oldest and his most favorite one. Lapras. Clutching the small stuffed animal to his chest, he made sure to be quiet while closing the heavy hotel room door.
The hallway lights were dimmed due to the late hour, but it wasn’t so dark that Mingi couldn’t see as he scurried past each door as quickly but also as quietly as he can. He would be in so much trouble if one of their managers, or worse Hongjoong, found him outside his hotelroom so late at night, but he had to risk that chance of untimely death if he wanted to stave off the incoming melt down he could feel building in his chest.
It was going to crest soon. He needed Wooyoung.
if you’re awake, im sorry
please let me in
He sent the short text to his friend to avoid waking Jongho up with his knocking. By the time Wooyoung swung open the door, tears already slipped down his cheeks. He kept himself quiet, only sniffling slightly as they stared at each other across the doorway for a moment.
“Baby, baby.” Wooyoung sighed, with a sad fondness welling in his eyes. One of his hands wrapped around Mingi’s that still held onto his tiny stuffed Lapras for dear life and tugged him inside. “Come back to bed, Minnie.”
The bathroom would be too loud to try to talk there with an automatic fan that turns on with the light switch. So, they slip into Wooyoung’s bed together, shuffling closer to one another to reduce the distance their whispers would have to travel. Mingi became distracted from his tears as Wooyoung loomed so close to his. He counted the numerous, small freckles that crawled up the man’s neck and splashed across his face. One mischievous freckle rested on his full lower lip, and Mingi rubbed at his wet eyes to avoid staring at it.
Why does he put up with me, when he’s just as tired too?
Mingi’s breath caught in his throat when Wooyoung pulled his fists away from his red, bleary eyes, and didn’t let him go even when their hands dropped to the sheets between them.
“Rubbing irritates your eyes. You’ll just cry more.” Wooyoung said, and his thumb stroked along the back of Mingi’s hand. It was a gesture so small, yet it had Mingi reduced into a puddle under the heavy comforter. His Lapras plushie lay discarded between them somewhere between their stomachs, but that was okay. He had Wooyoung to hold now.
“I miss home, Woo…” He sniffled, more tear drops trailing down onto the pillows. “But not just Korea. Or our dorm… I miss my home. My family. I’m just so tired; we go and go and go and I’m happy that we’re finally going somewhere. But I’m not… it’s a lot, okay? And I hate that I feel this way but I can’t stop—”
“I cried this morning. In the bathroom before we left this morning. That’s why I was gone for a little while.” Wooyoung cut across him, dark eyes peering into his own like he could slipt Mingi in half and open him up. Mingi’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click of his teeth, his eyes widening as he panicked over whether he stepped over some invisible line. He didn’t mean to burden, to drag Wooyung down when he had to deal with his own problems. He should just be grateful and take the blessings as they come. They had so far to go, and he was with the team 110%, and he didn’t mean any of it, he was happy, he’ll make himself happy for them. But Wooyoung smoothed out the wrinkles of Mingi’s sleep shirt and gave him a small smile. He continued talking slowly, like a calm breeze blowing away the sudden storm clouds that rolled through Mingi’s head.
“I cried, because I missed another facetime from my little brother last night. He got up extra early before his school, because I promised I would take him outside and show him what America looked like, but I fell asleep. When I woke up, I looked through my phone and… I haven’t called them in 2 weeks. Any of them, Mingi. Not my mom. Not my brother, not my uncle. I’ve barely returned a text. And I… couldn’t take it. He must have been so disappointed. I couldn’t stop crying.”
Even in this dense dark of night and drawn blackout curtains, Mingi could see the silverlining of tears glisen under Wooyoung’s eyes. He couldn’t bear the sight of it. All gangly arms and legs, he practically lunged on top of Wooyoung to smother him in a desperate hug. They held on tight, neither giving up an inch as they soaked each other’s shirts with their muffled cries.
“So, I get it, okay? It’s okay to say those things, because we’re going to get through it together. We’ll be just fine.” Wooyoung whispered softly into his hair, close enough that his lips brushed against the shell of Mingi’s ear, and Mingi didn’t want to think anymore. With a turn of his head, he caught Wooyoung in a kiss on those beautiful, freckled lips. And when he pulled away with a guilty look marring his face, Wooyoung didn’t let him go far.
He pulled Mingi back to him with gentle fingers hooking under his chin and laugh to constrast the tears still drying on his cheeks.
“C’mon, you can’t just run away from me now. Not after a little peck like that.”
They kissed once again, but chastely. Exhaustion from a day full of tears and fear beckoning them to finally rest. Wooyoung didn’t want to move away, and Mingi craved the feeling of warmth surrounding him. It had been an exactly 3-minute, hushed argument over who would be the big spoon, but Mingi had just been in denial. He always wanted to be the little spoon, and Wooyoung woudn’t take no for an answer. He fell asleep that night with Wooyoung’s arm thrown around his waist and his soft breathes brushing the back of his neck. He fell asleep finally not alone in this wild, weird foreign country. He fell asleep protected from all the shadowy creatures and storm cloud thoughts. And he woke up to the prettiest lips puckered for a sweet good morning kiss.
+1
It is 3 in the morning, and Wooyoung was still crying. It was too late to still be crying, but every time his sobs subsided enough to think, he could only remember that painful afternoon. His thoughts were angry like bees and his head was a rumbling hive. Each one was loud and stung him repeatedly. Most nights like these he could cry quietly and be on his way. But not tonight.
A corner of his pillow was trapped in his mouth as he screamed and sobbed into it to force himself quiet. He was frustrated. Heartbroken, sitting on the closed lid of their toilet from where he’d locked himself in the bathroom. If any late-night sleepwalkers had to pee, they could piss in one of their fake plants for all he cared. Life just wasn’t fucking fair.
Fuck them. Fuck them. Fuck them and fuck their stupid rules.
Ateez had performed at a music show that night though promotions for their latest comeback had long been over. Wooyoung had been expected to lipsnyc for the performance, because he was always expected to lipsnyc. His vocals weren’t strong enough yet to keep stable through their outrageous choreography, and he knew it was more of a policy to protect him than anything else. A bad vocal clip could haunt him for the rest of his career no matter how many live performances he could perfect in the future.
But still. He was a singer. Who wanted to sing.
That night he had felt good. He had practiced and sacrificed countless nights of sleep singing and dancing and singing while dancing and singing as loud as he could while still sounding great. And he was getting better. Everyone could tell, Hongjoong discussing his improvement with the managers and Mingi rewarding him with forehead kisses when he absolutely killed a rehearsal. He had wanted to test himself. He had wanted to try. He had held his headset mic as close as he could without banging his teeth and he had sung.
He had sung with his entire open heart and had not heard a whisper in return. He could not hear himself through his in-ear monitor. His mic had been completely turned off. He couldn’t even hear his heaving breathes as he raced through each complicated step. He had barely 20 seconds to shine in the song and they denied him the chance. They didn’t want him to even try. He was just there to thrust his hips and sit pretty. He was supposed to shut up.
Wooyoung clawed out his rage on the pillow he held so tightly. He was choking on his tears now, throat raw and becoming hoarse as he sucked down air through gritted teeth. He might lose his voice for a day if he kept crying so hard. But it didn’t fucking matter anyway, so he screamed and cried and shut himself up like they wanted him to.
“Wooyoung? I know it’s you in there.” A deep voice spoke through the locked door. A gentle tapping along the wood as that quiet voice gently asked for him to open the door. “Please?”
The door gave a loud creak when he let it swing open. The crack of Mingi’s heart when their eyes met was even louder. Wooyoung walked straight into Mingi’s arms, his pillow dropped to the floor in favor of something much better to hold.
“You shouldn’t stay out of bed like this. Do you want to go to your room or mine?” Mingi knew better than anyone the comfort of one’s own bed. But Wooyoung shook his head, giving the man a squeeze.
“Your room please.”
Mingi’s bed was big enough for the two of them and a third. It had too many mismatched blankets, a small collection of more pokemon plushies, and the pillows smelled like Mingi’s Hawaiian hibiscus shampoo. It was slowly becoming Wooyoung’s favorite place in Seoul. He pushed Mingi to lie down in its center before crawling on top of him to lie down between his legs. As his long arms came to settle around his waist, Wooyoung let out a shakey sigh.
There was more crying dwelling within him. He could feel it ebbing and flowing, threatening to break his forced calm. He was holding it back out of habit. And habits were hard to break. But Mingi was a new habit of his. One that was bigger and brighter and demanded his constant attention in a cute way. He knocked his knuckles gently against Wooyoung’s forehead just like the bathroom door.
“You have to let me in, Woo. You can’t just expect me to watch you break.”
If Mingi was trying to stop him from crying, then he was doing a shit job. Wooyoung sniffed as his cheeks became wet again. But maybe there was a difference between happy and sad tears. He tucked his face to Mingi’s chest to hide them, but as his shirt became wetter and wetter, he was also doing a shit job of it.
Wooyoung finally spilled.
“I can do it.” He said, voice breaking. “I can sing I promise. Please, please, please let me sing!”
He wasn’t talking to Mingi anymore; he was crying out against the world. Against its mistreatment towards him. Against everyone who didn’t trust himself enough to even try. But it was Mingi under him. Mingi who held him so carefully, like he was a trembling creature who fit in the palm of his hand. Mingi who kissed at his tears, helped him blow his nose, and fetched him Tylenol when he cried hard enough to bring on a headache.
It was Mingi who spoke to him so softly. “I… don’t know if this you will make you feel better or worse. But… I-I heard you singing. You sounded amazing, even better than at practice.”
Wooyoung kissed him. Hard on the mouth and probably at little gross considering his dishelved shape, but it was all he could do to express the mess he was inside and out.
“Honestly, a little of both. Worse, but also a bit better.”
Mingi shyly met his teary gaze, and raising his hands up in a tiny cheer, he muttered a soft. “Yaaaay.”
And it was so damn cute, Wooyoung pulled him down again for another kiss. And when all of his tears dried, his endless well finally empty, he was the little spoon that night.
+2 A Little Bonus for You Babes ;) xoxoxo
Mingi has a mental list of all the reasons why it was the best thing ever that he got a room all to himself when they moved into a new apartment for the dormitory. Now he could fall asleep without being subjected to Jongho’s late-night gaming, he can retreat to all the quiet he needed to recharge when days get hard, he has en entire closet for himself, and he cnould finally have private, personal time for some self-love. But nowadays… he thought the absolute best benefit of having a single room was that he has a place to makeout with Wooyoung whenever they want without the rest of the team teasing them.
Which is what they were doing. Right now. As they have been for hours. Just kissing each other breathless while their hands roamed to squeeze, knead, and stroke. It was nice. Mingi’s lips were so tingly with sensation that they had gone numb about an hour ago, but he still squirmed and whined whenever Wooyoung would pull away for even a minute too long. He barely even gave himself enough time to breath, he was just so wrapped up in Wooyoung. Kissing Wooyoung, tasting Wooyoung, feeling Wooyoung, smelling him, touching him, seeing his beautiful, freckled face.
The smaller man hovered over him, pressing into from above and kissing Mingi silly back into his own pillows. Wooyoung’s lips tasted like sugary coffee, and he couldn’t get enough, licking at them in hopes they would open a little wider. They had spent so much time crying in this bed together; it was nice to put it to better use.
When Wooyoung gently bit his bottom lip and tugged, he managed to pull a strained moan out of his new boyfriend. He pulled away with a laugh, leaving Mingi to pout at him with starry eyes. He was begging, he knew it, but he wanted Wooyoung to give him more.
“You’re doing that on purpose now.” He whined, his cool, deep-toned voice becoming pitchy and child-like.
“You don’t want to kiss me?” Wooyoung shot back with a smirk only causing Mingi to pout more.
“I always want to kiss you. You’re just… really… sexy. Wooyoungie!”
Slowly Wooyoung pecked closed-mouth kisses along Mingi’s left cheek bone then down to his jaw. He kept kissing his jawbone moving towards his chin and forcing Mingi to tilt his head up to make space. He felt those full, plush lips graze his adam’s apple before they latched onto a spot in the hollow of throat near his collarbones. And then Wooyoung sucked. Mingi moaned again, and he scrambled to push his michevious boyfriend away.
“No bruises! Are you trying to get Hongjoong and the stylist noonas to draw and quarter us?!”
“They can’t prove that I did it~ Don’t worry Minki I’ll write you a good eulogy~”
“They already know we’re dating and I’m not above snitching! I’m taking you down with me bitch.”
Mingi managed to buck Wooyoung off of him, and he twisted away into his covers so he could protect his sensitive neck. He felt warmth as blazing as a furnace curl up against his back, surrounding him, pulling him back into it’s embrace. He couldn’t stop himself from relaxing into the back hug immediately, all of his play fight attitude knocked down with the simple comfort of being held. Wooyoung laughed again and hugged him tighter.
“I’m already lonely. Kiss me again.”
Mingi couldn’t say no. Not when his body was already instinctually turning around to give Wooyoung want he wanted. Whatever he wanted. All of it. He kept the blanket with him, only poking his face out of his cacoon to keep his neck shielded against anymore sneaky attacks on his very young life.
“Cute.” Wooyoung whispered just before they were kissing again. Mingi didn’t even have the time to blush at being so babied before his every sense was taken over by Wooyoung again, and he drifted off into this dream that became reality. Floating in the shallows of that bliss, he had a thought that should have been more startling.
I could do this forever. Kiss and sleep and love you forever.
But he wasn’t scared at all. Just warm, content and sleepy. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment their lips stopped their ceaseless dance, when they fell away from each other but didn’t go too far. They fell asleep curled into each other, tangled together and sharing the same breath. In their little pocket of paradise, they protected each other from all that hunted them in the night. And they didn’t wake up once before the soft light of morning gently called for them to join the new day.