Work Text:
Mingi wakes up on the day before his birthday and instantly regrets it. The normal gentle sounds of his alarm are blaring, like a siren going off in his room, grating on his ears. He knows deep down in his bones that it’s going to be a bad day.
His sheets feel itchy and rough and the comforter feels like lead on top of him. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, whipping too fast for him to grasp and sliding slowly like molasses at the same time.
Time seems to stretch on forever into a gaping abyss before Mingi finally gets his thoughts in order enough to open his eyes.
Golden sun streams through cracks in his blue curtains. He’s curled up on his side, facing away from his windows, but the light is still too much. It’s too much for his confused brain, speeding up and slowing down and he feels like he can see inside the cracks in his walls—
Darkness. Blissful, not-quite blackness. It lasts for only a second though, the peace he gets from clamping his eyes shut and tucking his head down.
Because then his other senses kick in. He can hear the sound of voices from downstairs, too indistinct to pick out words but loud enough to grate on his ears. The birds chirping outside. The sound of his own heartbeat, thudding inside him (and he swears he can almost hear his blood pumping through his veins—)
The smell of breakfast cooking downstairs, assaulting his nose. Rice and eggs and meat. A tinge of Seonghwa’s shampoo and the freshness of water. The sparkling, sweet scent of grapefruit from Wooyoung’s room across the hall. And on top of it all, his own scent, warm chocolate that permeates every inch of his room.
His alarm continues. He groans - his voice sounds like gravel to his ears - and reluctantly tries to find his phone in his bed.
The volume doubles when Mingi unearths it from underneath one of his pillows. Eyes still shut, he fumbles through trying to unlock it and shut off his alarm.
It’s a process, but his room gets quieter when he figures it out. Without the alarm, there’s only the noises from farther away - everyone downstairs and the world outside his room. Like this, he can almost block everything out.
Breathing slowly, he drops his phone back on the bed. Footsteps pick up in the hall, and then two voices.
“-all yours, Wooyoung.”
“Thanks, hyung! Breakfast’s almost done!”
“I’ll head down in a bit — I’m going to see if Mingi is up yet.”
“I can do it!”
“No, go take your shower.” A pause. “You smell.”
“Hyunnngggg.”
Bright, loud laughter that scrapes at his ears. Mingi grabs one of his pillows — it feels like heavy cardboard in his hand — and shoves it over his head.
Louder footsteps. The sound of a door slamming. A pause, and then knocking on his door.
It sounds like thunder. Mingi can’t help the whine that escapes his lips. He tries his best to burrow under his heavy-feeling blankets.
Please, please go away —
“Mingi?” Seonghwa’s voice doesn’t even sound distorted through the door. It’s like a sharp, piercing whistle straight to his brain. “It’s time to get up.”
He stays quiet. More laughter drifts up from the stairs. The chirping seems to mutate into squawking, like they’re taunting him. It hurts.
“I heard your alarm, Min. I know you’re awake.”
His whine gets caught in his throat, and it feels like glass. Mingi sinks further into his bed, searching for some kind of comfort, anything at all.
“Song Mingi, do not make me come in there.”
The beta’s voice is clear and full and disappointed. And yet all Mingi can offer in return is a half-croaked, desperate, “Hyung,” that’s barely audible.
Well, at least to a full-blooded human. Seonghwa hears him just fine, if the hastily-thrown open door is any indication.
The slam of it against the wall is almost enough to make him pass out. Everything goes still and silent for a blissful moment, and then Mingi’s roused by cool hands on his face and his hyung’s voice, softer and more delicate now.
“—gi, tell hyung what’s wrong,” The beta is saying. Mingi whimpers and tries to turn his face away, but Seonghwa climbs up on the bed and hauls him into his lap. Mingi yelps at the treatment, brain whirring and unconsciousness threatening to pull him under.
“—sorry, I’m sorry baby,” Seonghwa’s petting his hair, campfire scent smoky with his worrying. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Mingi swallows, and presses his cheek to the fabric of the witch’s sweatpants. “s’okay, hyung.”
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Seonghwa presses a cool hand to his left cheek again.
It takes him a moment to sort through everything that’s bombarding him, and thankfully Seonghwa stays quiet while he attempts to un-soup his brain.
Finally, in stilted, half-mumbling words, Mingi begins to try to express himself. He starts off with: “Brain is soup. Hot soup. Ow,” and continues on, “Too much noise. Smells. Light bad. Too much everything.”
The beta takes his free hand, gently petting over Mingi’s shiny, silver hair. “I’m sorry, baby. That’s no good. I’ll try to whip up a potion to help, if that’s alright with you.”
“‘es, hyung. Please,” He mumbles.
“Okay, okay. Do you think you can make it downstairs? You need to eat — I know, but you’ll probably feel better with something in your stomach. And I’d like it if everyone else is able to keep an eye on you while I’m in the workshop.”
Going downstairs sounds like hell. Mingi whines and curls up further into the witch’s lap. Seonghwa continues petting his hair.
“Yunho can probably be convinced to cuddle with you on the sofa bed all day,” The witch cajoles softly, and Mingi feels his ears burn.
“Can try,” He manages.
“That’s our brave wolf,” Seonghwa says, fondly, and Mingi can’t help but blush.
“Hyung,” He complains.
“Okay, okay,” Seonghwa acquiesces. “Do you wanna change clothes, Mingi?”
“Mmm.”
The witch climbs out of bed, and helps Mingi up. His head throbs every time he moves a limb, and Seonghwa eventually has to help him into a loose, faded dark blue t-shirt and worn, soft sweats.
Seonghwa props him up against the wall. “Do you want your glasses?”
“Mmm, but just so if I need them later.” The sentence sounds like it makes sense. Maybe. Whatever, he’s too tired for this.
“I’ll hold onto them then,” The witch fetches them from Mingi’s dresser, grabs his phone off the bed, and then softly walks down to the end of the hall to switch off the lights.
The soft ambiance of the natural light from the skylights is easier on his eyes. He reaches out a hand and Seonghwa catches it, squeezing gently. The pressure is a lot and comforting at the same time.
“Take your time, Min. If you need to stop we stop. If you really can’t do it I’ll get Jongho.”
Mingi scrunches up his nose, takes a second to press his free hand against the wallpaper (scratchy, scratchy bark. His brain wants to scream but it’s too tiring) and takes a step.
Halfway down the hall the bathroom door opens. Steam billows out alongside harsh, artificial light, and Mingi flattens himself to the wall in an attempt to get away from it, despite how much it hurts.
“Wooyoung, turn off the light,” Seonghwa’s voice is brisk even as he moves to block it out with his body.
There’s a hurried click of a switch, amplified like the smack of a ruler against his desk, and fresh grapefruit wafts under his noise.
“What’s going—“
“Will you please go down and tell Joong that Mingi isn’t feeling well, and that we’re going to get him set up on the couch.” Seonghwa’s tone is brisk with no room for argument.
There’s a pause, and then another surge of grapefruit as Wooyoung carefully lays his hand on Mingi’s face.
“m okay, Youngie.”
“Mmm, that’s a lie,” Wooyoung strokes his fingers down his cheek. Mingi tries not to flinch. “Okay, I’m off to go deliver the bad news.”
His footsteps echo down the hall. Seonghwa reaches over, squeezing Mingi’s hand. The wolf lets him guide him to the stairs.
The stairs are not fun. Mingi actually has to keep his eyes open as they descend each step. A third of the way down there’s a sudden influx of smells, the scents of his packmates billowing from the kitchen, all tinged with worry and upset.
It hits him so hard Mingi blacks out. When he comes to he’s sitting on the stairs, one hand wrapped around the banister, Seonghwa’s hand on his shoulder.
The smell of under-baked cookies drifts up from the bottom of the stairs.
“Yunho,” Seonghwa calls gently. “Why don’t you go raid the blanket closet.”
There’s no reply, but the scent of wet-dough-not-quite-edible cookies fades. Mingi feels wetness prickle at the edges of his eyes. His brain is screaming. It hurts more then before.
“Hwa-hyung…” His voice is completely shot, shattered glass and gravel in his throat like he’s been yelling. Huh. That’s why Yunho was hovering, probably.
“I’ll go get Jongho. Sit tight.”
Mingi leans his head against the stair above him, doing his best to ignore the sharp edge digging into his neck as Seonghwa’s footsteps peter off.
Time slows to a crawl again, left alone in the staircase. Mingi watches the back of his eyelids and tries not to think about anything. It’s hard.
Warm, baked apples tickle his sense of smell, and then strong but gentle hands are on his arms. “Hyung, you in there?”
Mingi slurs out some kind of response, and tries to grab for Jongho. The pack maknae hums, and then suddenly there are strong arms lifting him into the air.
His stomach twists. “Might throw up when you set down.” That was most of the words he wanted to say. Yay.
“Got it, hyung. Hold tight.”
He holds tight, shuts his eyes, and lets his head loll against Jongho’s shoulder. The scent of sunshine-warmed flowers hits him, just a hint, and it’s enough to know Yeosang is spotting them as Jongho carries him down the stairs.
Each step down feels like it’s rattling his brain around in his skull. Mingi’s lips part on a pained groan.
“I know, hyung. We’re almost there.”
“The couch is unfolded, Jongie,” San calls up the staircase.
“Someone get a trash can,” Yeosang’s voice is like ice water over his back. He whines. “Said he feels likes he’s going to throw up.”
“Yunho, sit down,” Hongjoong’s voice hits Mingi’s ears like lightning, and the smell of his pack alpha has him gagging, almost retching as saliva pools in his mouth. Zesty lemon coats his throat, a usually calming scent that means safe pack protected.
Today it burns. He gags again.
“Jong-“
“Yeo-hyung, grab the bucket—“
“I got it, take the last step—“
Mingi’s body seizes towards the left. He hits his elbow on the wall. The pain zig-zags through his body, lances straight into his brain.
He throws up.
He’s crying, shaking. Whispered voices echoing around him, scratching at his ears. He wants to curl up and disappear.
Just when his brain is about to tip over into a whirlpool of never-ending anxiety and bad thoughts, the smell of cookies blocks everything else out. Warm, fragrant, perfectly baked. Just out of the oven. A tall, broad body covers his, so familiar he could never forget it.
“‘unho,” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“I’m here, Mingi,” The alpha wolf protectively curls further around him, gentle fingers petting at his bangs, moving to wipe away his tears. The touch of Yunho’s skin doesn’t hurt, even though everything else is scratchy and heavy and wrong, still.
“…throw up on Sangie?”
“No, Jongho managed to aim you towards the bucket.”
That’s a relief, even though his stomach is sour and cramping now. “Kay.”
Yunho shifts behind him, and the calming scent of evergreen wafts through the room.
“Hey, Mingki,” San murmurs, patting his ankle with one finger. “Brought you some water. Joong-hyung is making you tea and pouting in the kitchen.”
There’s a rumble of grumbling from that direction. Mingi ignores it to crack his eyes open and stare up at San.
The beta were-panther shoots him a megawatt smile, sitting down on a free corner of the futon and holding the glass out, touching a blue-colored reusable straw to Mingi’s lips.
“Small sips, baby,” Yunho kisses the top of his head and the wolf can feel his ears going red.
The straw against his lips is abrasive, but the tiny sips of water are refreshing going down his throat. Actually swallowing hurts, but he perseveres. Mostly because Yunho can read him like an open book, and presses more kisses to his head and praises him every time he swallows water down.
He feels hot and squirmy in Yunho’s arms. Gods, he feels so obvious about the depths of his emotions for the alpha. If he felt better, he’d be pulling away and hiding from Yunho by now.
San knocks him out of his thoughts by taking the glass and straw away, setting it down on the coffee table. “I’m gonna go get your tea,” He says, patting Mingi’s leg gently again. “Do you think you can keep any food down?”
Mingi shrugs and tries to burrow further into Yunho’s arms.
“We can try again later,” The alpha’s voice rumbles through his body. Mingi shivers.
“Okay,” San pats his leg once more and stands up. “Be right back.”
Sunshine flowers replaces evergreen, and Mingi opens his eyes enough to see Yeosang tucking a soft, crochet blanket from Wooyoung’s mother around them. “Seonghwa-hyung’s in the workshop getting started on that potion. Woo is taking over your classes today, Yunnie.”
“Remind me to thank him,” Yunho says, adjusting Mingi in his arms. The wolf can’t help but go boneless against him, nose pressed up against the alpha’s scent gland. Mmm, cookies.
There’s another rumble of laughter, and fingers ruffle his hair. Oh, gods. He said that out loud.
“Cute,” Yunho nuzzles his ear. “How are you feeling, baby?”
Mingi hums, and checks in with his body. He still feels tired and heavy. His brain is still fast-slow and doing juggling tricks with his thoughts.
However.
He can’t smell the tea brewing in the kitchen, and the faintest smell of Hongjoong, lemon-orange, is calming instead of aggravating. The birds aren’t assaulting his ears, and the sound of Yunho’s heart beat is actually comforting.
Maybe throwing up helped? Probably not. Whatever. Light is still the number one enemy.
“Brain ten percent less soup,” Mingi mutters into Yunho’s skin, and closes his eyes again.
“…did you understand that?” Yeosang sounds amused. Mingi grumbles and tucks himself further under the blankets.
“He’s starting to feel better,” Yunho translates.
“The power of Yunho cuddles,” San’s voice says. “I brought tea~!”
Mingi whines and buries his head further into Yunho’s neck.
“It’s chocolate lavender,” San cajoles, stroking over his hip. “Joong-hyung made it speciaaaal, just for our princessss~!”
Mingi’s ears go hot again, and he peeks over the edge of the blanket to narrow his gaze at San.
The beta grins at him, unbothered, and wafts the cup towards him. It smells quite good, actually, chocolate and lavender warm and heavenly as it hits his nose.
“For me, baby?” Yunho murmurs in his ear. Warmth crawls up Mingi’s neck as his glare drops into a pout.
“Fine,” He croaks. Yunho kisses his head again and helps him sit up. Yeosang rearranges the blankets around them and San holds the mug of tea out.
Mingi gingerly lifts his heavy arms and wraps his big hands around the mug. San tucks one hand loosely around his wrist, steadying his grip and guiding the mug up to his mouth.
It’s hot when it touches his lips — but not tongue-scorching hot. Yunho pets the back of his neck as Mingi takes his first swallow.
The tea tastes as good as it smells, and when it hits his stomach it doesn’t sit heavy. Mingi exhales and leans back against Yunho, taking another small, tentative sip of the tea.
“Good?” The alpha wrapped around him asks. When Mingi nods, Yunho nuzzles at the pointed tip of his ear affectionately, before softly scenting him.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Yeosang leans down and kisses Mingi’s forehead. “Jong-ah and I are going to open the shop today. Feel better, Mingki.”
“Thank you, Sangie,” The wolf buries his face in his mug of tea, trying not to think about how red his ears are.
“Call us if you need anything, Yunnie,” Yeosang ruffles Yunho’s hair.
“I’ve got cuddling Mingi’s brain into submission down to a science,” The alpha says playfully. “I’ve got this.”
Mingi scowls into his tea.
“Cute,” Yeosang laughs, and wanders off in the direction of the kitchen. “Joong-hyung!”
Mingi doesn’t hear Hongjoong’s reply, distracted by San tipping the mug against his lips once more.
“Not baby,” He grumbles after another sip.
“I will fight you on that,” San smirks. “You’re our baby, Minky, just accept it.”
Mingi pouts and buries his face back in his mug.
Yunho’s arms wrap tighter around his body, the wolf still nuzzling his ear. “You made him pout, Sannie.”
“Yeah I’m definitely not sorry about that.”
The three of them don’t share any more words as Mingi slowly but surely drinks his tea with his packmates’ encouragement. When his mug’s halfway empty, Jongho and Yeosang traipse back out through the living room, dropping kisses on Mingi’s forehead and saying goodbye again as they head out to open the pack’s shop.
It’s quiet now, Hongjoong peeking his head briefly into the room before heading into the workshop, leaving the three of them alone.
Mingi takes his time with his tea, never parting from his mug until he finishes the last drop. He feels warm inside, and much better. His brain’s the only thing still constantly bothering him — all his senses seem to be slowly dialing back down.
San takes the mug back and gently climbs off the mattress. “I’m going to go check on Hwa-hyung.”
“We’ll be here,” Yunho nuzzles his ear again and Mingi hides his face in the blanket. “Do you want to try to sleep?”
Napping curled up in Yunho’s arms sounds like heaven, but…with his brain still fizzy and firing at what feels like 1000%, he probably won’t be able to fall asleep again. Still… “Can try.”
“Let’s get comfy then.”
Yunho —gently— manhandles Mingi until they’re both laying down again, curled up under the blankets, the alpha’s chin tucked over his head. His brain re-soupifies (those aren’t words, he knows that, but what are real words anyway?) at Yunho picking him up and turning him around without a problem. It’s hot. Yunho’s hot.
Mingi is a gooey, gooey mess and. He’s so in love with Yunho.
The alpha inhales above him. Mingi has exactly two seconds of clarity, two seconds to realize oh shit I just said that out loud before his brain starts to spiral.
Ice cold anxiety crashes over him like a wave, and sad whines slip out of his lips. He tries to turn, to roll away and bury himself in the depths of the sofa bed forever, but the movement makes his head throb again.
“Mingi, baby, stop,” Yunho’s voice manages to pierce through the self-doubt and the brain pain. “Don’t cry, baby, please, you’re breaking my heart.”
Oh — he is crying, wet tracks down his cheeks. He sniffs and tries to hide his face again.
Yunho’s large, soft hands land on his cheeks. “Mingi,” He says, voice softer and deeper. “Look at me, please?”
The wolf whines, but peeks his eyes open.
Yunho is staring down at him, face soft and full of wonder and care and — Mingi swallows. There’s very visible love shining in his eyes.
Oh, He thinks.
“There you are,” Yunho murmurs. He bends his head down slightly and brushes their noses together. The scent of cookies intensifies in the air, a tinge of melted chocolate running through it. “Mingi. I have been hopelessly in love with you since we were fifteen.”
Oh, again. “Yunnie. Really.”
The alpha cuddles closer. “Yes, baby. Really.”
Mingi feels himself start to tear up again. “Yunho I love you.”
“I love you too, Mingi.”
Mingi is an ooey, gooey mess. He starts crying again.
Yunho kisses his cheeks and holds him closer. “Stop crying, love, you’re going to make your brain hurt more.”
“Happy tears,” He manages to sniff, burying his face in the alpha’s shoulder. “Can’t stop.”
“What am I going to do with you,” Yunho says, but turns his head to scent at Mingi’s neck.
The wolf melts into him. “Love me?” He says, not able to help himself.
Yunho presses a kiss to his cheek, one large hand massaging his lower back. “Forever if you’ll have me, baby.”
The wolf blushes and buries his face in the blanket. Yunho giggles and kisses his cheek again, tucking the blankets further around them. “I’m going to take you out on the best date ever on Thursday, so try to relax now and get better.”
Mingi feels fluttering in his chest at the reminder of tomorrow - of his presentation. “Okay,” He murmurs shyly, still half-hiding. “Stay?”
“Even the hyungs won’t be able to drag me away,” Yunho promises. “Sleep, baby.”
It takes a while. But Mingi is cozy and warm and his brain has finally stopped bitching at him. Yunho is murmuring soft, happy things to him.
Mingi falls asleep either all at once or very slowly. He won’t be able to remember which. But he sleeps soundly, tucked in Yunho’s arms.
And his dreams are made of sweet, cotton candy.
And everything is alright again.
~the end