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Mingyu is a little surprised that neither he nor Seokmin’s hands are bruised yet with how hard they’re gripping each other. 

The game has been intense, to say the least. 

Low score but high scoring chances; every puck that’s a hair too wide or tings off a post or is saved by what can only be a goalie standing in his head makes both of their breaths hitch. The anxiety is high and looming and both of them are clearly losing their minds. 

The game goes into overtime and Mingyu feels his heart go into overdrive. 

“I’m so stressed,” Seokmin breathes out, and Mingyu somehow manages a strangled hum. 

“Me too.”

“Y’know what,” Seokmin says as another commercial plays, squeezing Mingyu’s hand before he lets go, “I have, like, twenty minutes. I’m gonna fuckin’ make a batch of cookies. Any requests?”

“Chocolate chip?” Mingyu manages to squeak out, rubbing his hands together and doing his best to get himself back under control. He’s failing, but hey, at least he’s trying. 

 The stress is almost unmanageable, even as Mingyu tries to distract himself on his phone. It’s just, Jihoon’s had an incredible season and so has his team, so the stakes on this game feel beyond astronomically high. But somehow he manages to keep breathing even if he can’t keep himself sane. 

Seokmin joins him on the couch again as the puck is dropped and overtime begins. 

Mingyu and Seokmin are holding hands so tightly that they’re cracking each other’s knuckles. They do get a break when somehow there’s a commercial, no score yet during sudden death and Mingyu’s heartbeat frantic, especially as Seokmin’s timer goes off. Mingyu listens to the slight clanging behind him as Seokmin pulls out his cookies, the oven clicking off soon after as Seokmin makes his way to the couch. His ass has barely even hit the cushion before the puck is dropped again. They cling together on the couch, both of them holding their breath, when the unthinkable happens.

It’s a bad pass that turns into a breakaway. A 2 on 1 is quick to form, and with the players out there run ragged, there seems to be no hope of breaking it up. 

But there, sprinting down the ice, is none other than Jihoon. He’s closing in on the guy with the puck, but it’s too late when he finally manages to get his stick in the way.

The guy passed it cleanly. It goes five hole. Too fast for the goalie to see, less than 0.1 seconds after he drops into a split. 

They’ve lost. 

The season is over.

Mingyu is devastated. 

But reality catches up to him quickly when the announcers start to sound worried, the cameras still glued to the celebration. They’re saying something about Jihoon laying out on the ice, but the cameras won’t change. Instead, Mingyu is forced to watch the true elation on the other team’s faces as he bites his nails, worried sick for his boyfriend.

It turns out, he should’ve been even more worried than he was. 

“Lee is still on the ground here,” one of the guys is saying, his own concern clear in his tone. 

“And for those of you who don’t know Lee, he’s not a player to try and embellish for a call, especially not now. We’re trying to get the replay folks, but it’s bad either way.”

“And there’s the trainer,” the first one says and Mingyu clutches at Seokmin’s hand. 

Finally the cameras switch and they get a visual on Jihoon lying prone and Mingyu feels his heart stop. Jihoon is covering his head with his hands, but he isn’t propping himself up in any sort of way. The trainer is crouched next to him but Jihoon still doesn't move.

“And here’s the replay.” It feels as if everyone is holding their breath, and Mingyu watches as Jihoon tries to deflect the pass before he loses his footing, and absolutely everyone makes pained or horrified noises when they watch him collide into the goal post and then be taken into the boards by the player he had tried to defend against. 

It’s no wonder that Jihoon can’t get up. Those hits must have done some insane damage. 

“It looks like he slammed his knee against the post,” one of the announcers says as he clearly cringes, one final replay playing before they’re back to the live view. 

Jihoon’s on his back now, but that’s about where the good news ends. His face is a picture perfect definition of severe pain, his hair in complete disarray and his skin paler than a ghost. Whatever is wrong, it’s beyond serious.  

“They rolled him over,” Seokmin whispers, squeezing Mingyu’s hand, “which means it isn’t his back or neck. Which is good.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu manages to choke out, only to realize that he’s crying. Within an instant Seokmin is pulling him into a hug, rocking him gently and running a hand through his hair. The announcers continue to talk even as Mingyu feels like he loses his mind. 

“It definitely seems like it’s a lower body injury.”

“Yeah, and since their season is officially over, we may actually get to know the details on this one.”

Mingyu squeezes Seokmin even tighter, getting shushed softly in return. 

“He’s sitting up now, but he will not let JP anywhere near that leg.”

“He really won’t Bobby. If it’s actually his knee, it’s gonna be hell for him trying to get out of his gear.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” Bobby mumbles, and Mingyu just hides his face in Seokmin’s neck.

“Do you want me to turn it off? Or mute it?”

“No,” Mingyu somehow manages to mumble, still hiding himself in Seokmin’s warm embrace, “it’s okay.”

“Just let me know,” Seokmin whispers, running his fingers through Mingyu’s hair. 

The announcers continue to speculate but Mingyu just ignores them. Jihoon is hurt, and it’s taking everything in him not to rush down to the rink and hold him until the pain fades away. 

Since he’s literally unable to do that, he holds Seokmin instead. 

“It looks like Lee is getting to his feet.”

Mingyu sucks in a breath, but Seokmin immediately shushes him and runs his fingers through Mingyu’s hair. “It’s okay Gyu,” Seokmin soothes, but Mingyu just clings harder. It is absolutely not okay, but he still appreciates Seokmin’s efforts. 

“There is absolutely no weight going anywhere near that leg, Bobby.”

“No, and he’s holding it up with his hip alone. There’s no bend to that knee at all.”

“But wait,” the announcer starts suddenly, and Mingyu preemptively winces, “Lee’s not leaving the ice.” 

The words prompt Mingyu to move, extremely confused. Jihoon should be down the tunnel and seeking treatment already. Staying on the ice makes absolutely no sense. 

When he looks, it takes him a minute and Bobby’s eventual words for him to make sense of it all. 

“Would you look at that. Lee is staying out there to shake hands.” Sure enough, Jihoon is doing just that. He’s braced against the trainer and his weight is far removed from his left leg, but he still stays out there to congratulate the other guys. The looks and applause it garners clearly make him uncomfortable, but he withstands it to shake a few hands, offer a few bro hugs. He even manages a conversation, albeit a short one, with the guy who took him out, clearly placating him. 

It’s only after that and a quick hug from his captain that Jihoon finally leaves the ice, thunderous applause flooding the arena behind him. 

And while its most certainly a moving moment, Mingyu can’t help but to freak the absolute fuck out. Who can blame him?

“So,” Seokmin eventually says, squeezing Mingyu as he offers him a smile, “I know you’re losing your mind, and so am I. I say we trash the kitchen and make enough food for an army until we feel better.”

Somehow, Mingyu manages a shaky smile despite the ever looming threat of tears. 

“Bet.”

🏒

Mingyu has just put a pan of potatoes in the oven when his phone begins to ring. He rushes to scoop it up, Jihoon’s name displayed on screen and his own panicked expression staring back at him. Admittedly, he looks a little wild right now, but he’s not sure how you could blame him for it. 

“It’s Jihoon,” he says immediately, and Seokmin just waves him away.

“Check these in twenty?”

“Yeah, I’ll update you when I’m done.”

Once more Seokmin just waves him off, and Mingyu answers the phone as he rushes down the hallway to his room. It takes a little while to connect, their shotty wifi acting up, but when it does he finds himself pausing. 

“Um…?” 

“Soonyoung,” the mystery man, Soonyoung he supposes, says without a pause. When he smiles, he looks a little sheepish, but Mingyu can tell based on the background that he’s in Jihoon’s apartment. Slowly and surely, the gears in his head start to spin. “I’m sure Ji’s mentioned me.”

“In passing,” he admits, and Soonyoung gasps in offense. 

He whips his head around before he practically cries, “How have you not told your boyfriend about me?!”  

“‘Nyoung,” who is clearly Jihoon slurs from what Mingyu is guessing to be the couch. “Shh.”

“I mean,” Mingyu starts before Soonyoung can continue past his gasp, “Ji and I haven’t exactly been dating all that long, and it’s playoffs.”

“Was,” a tiny voice pipes up before there are loud sniffles crackling through the line. 

“Oh Hoonie,” Soonyoung says softly, Jihoon’s phone abandoned and Mingyu forced to stare at the ceiling as his boyfriend cries. 

Mingyu barely keeps it together as he’s forced to wait, but eventually Soonyoung does come back into view. He looks a little haggard and a lot sad, but he still smiles at Mingyu as he seemingly walks out of the living room and into the bedroom for some privacy. Once the door is clicked shut, Soonyoung sighs heavily.

“Sorry, he’s pretty drugged up right now.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu somehow manages to choke and Soonyoung just hums, pushing a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah. They had to cut him out of his gear, and even then it was bad enough to make him scream. We gave him the good shit as soon as we could.” Soonyoung shrugs, and Mingyu remembers that Soonyoung works with the team as an associated medical professional - an LPN he thinks. It makes sense that he was with Jihoon and still is.

“Do you know what it is yet?” 

Soonyoung huffs out a sigh. “No. His knee is an absolute mess, so we’re waiting for the swelling to go down before we try and image it. But it’s bad.”

Mingyu cringes. “If it’s a mess to you,” he starts and Soonyoung hums, “how bad is it gonna look to me?”

“Ugly, but everything that’s supposed to be inside still is.” 

“Was that a concern?”

Soonyoung just shrugs. “Listen, he’s gonna be fine. Straight leg brace and drugged to the gills, maybe surgery in a week or two, but he’ll be fine.” 

“But will he play again?”

Soonyoung scoffs before he’s smiling at Mingyu again, shaking his head softly. “You know Jihoon. This isn’t the end.”

Mingyu lets out a soft sigh, sure that his smile is shaking as he looks back at Soonyoung. He still wants to cry, but he figures he shouldn’t, not yet. 

“Are you staying tonight then?”

Soonyoung hums softly. “Yeah, I was planning on it, but I’m not sure how long I can stay tomorrow. Are you around?”

“Yeah, Seok and I can come over. I’m guessing his car is still at the rink, right?”

Soonyoung makes an odd face. “I hope so.”

Mingyu bursts out into laughter. He’s pretty sure it wasn’t all that funny, but with how tense he’s been all night, well, who can blame him. It takes a while for him to calm down, but once he (and Soonyoung too, strangely, but he won’t ask) manages it, he offers Soonyoung a smile.

“Seok and I both make food when we’re worried, so we got a bunch of stuff to bring over tomorrow. We can grab his car on the way.”

“Is that an invite for free food?”

Mingyu laughs as he shakes his head. “Of course.”

“I’ll text you my number and you can let me know when you’re here.”

“Sounds good. And Soonyoung?” 

Soonyoung hums, his eyebrows lifted and expression open, clearly waiting for Mingyu’s next words. 

“Thanks for calling.”

Soonyoung’s face splits into a smile like that’s what it’s always meant to do. “Of course. Have a good night, Mingyu.”

“You too.”

They hang up and Mingyu hefts out a heavy sigh, laying spread eagle on his bed as his eyes flood with tears. 

He only realizes he’s crying when the water reaches his ears. 

Time is sluggish around him as he just leaks, a million emotions swirling through him and trying to pry their way out of his chest.

The season is done.

The miracle season is over. 

It did not go out in a bang but instead a whimper, blown away like ashes in the breeze. 

He feels a little silly to be so upset about the season ending, but there’s questions of who will even be here next season. So many contracts have expired, and despite the hell that was the ending, they will never have this kind of magic again. Mingyu is sure of it. 

Plus, Jihoon is hurt. Hurt in a way that his heart hammering in his chest, anxiety choking him as it tries to escape him in any way that it can. 

He doesn’t know how long he lies there and just leaks, buried in his misery. 

“Hey.” Seokmin’s voice is soft and he raps on the doorframe. Mingyu can barely choke out a hum in response. “Can I sit?”

“Sure,” Mingyu chokes out and Seokmin makes a sad noise. 

“It’s okay, Gyu,” Seokmin says softly, curling against Mingyu’s side and holding him tightly. 

Mingyu just cries. Seokmin holds him through it. 

🏒

When Mingyu’s phone begins to ring in the dead of night, it doesn’t wake him up. He’s been too sad and worried to sleep. 

With a sigh Mingyu hunts for the device, fumbling to answer when he finally realizes it’s Jihoon’s name on his display. It takes a few agonizing seconds for the call to connect. But when it does, Mingyu is staring at Jihoon. A sickly looking Jihoon, but it’s Jihoon all the same. 

“You should be sleeping,” he says immediately, his voice soft and rusty due to the hour and the tears. 

“So should you,” Jihoon mumbles back, sassy even despite how shitty he clearly feels. 

“How’s Soonyoung?” He asks rather than anything else he wants to know, watching Jihoon try and shift slightly before he winces and gives up. 

“Asleep. A menace, but asleep.”

“Yeah?” 

Jihoon nods as he sighs. “He’s been good to me, sure, but I also know he took far too many videos of me drugged up for it to be good.”

Mingyu can’t help but to laugh softly, Jihoon’s lips ticking up slightly with the sound. “Remind me to ask him about that,” he teases and Jihoon just rolls his eyes. 

“Asshole.”

Mingyu just hums in response. It’s quiet for a little bit between them, both of them seemingly lost in their thoughts, before Jihoon breaks the silence. 

“Hey,” he starts, his voice small and hesitant, shyness clear in his expression, “are you planning on coming over tomorrow?” There’s hope there that makes Mingyu’s heart twist, and he wants nothing more than to hold him close. 

“Yeah. Seok and I were gonna grab your car from the rink too, then bring over all the food we made too.”

“Food?” Jihoon says softly, his eyes shining in a way that has Mingyu’s chest warming. 

“Seok and I make food when we’re stressed,” he half mumbles as he rubs at his neck, sure that his cheeks are burning red. 

“Homemaker syndrome?”

Mingyu bursts out laughing, far too loud and joyous for the hour but he’s not complaining. 

“Exactly homemaker syndrome.”

They laugh a little longer before they fall quiet again, listening to each other breathe in the quiet of the night. 

“Wait,” Jihoon says as Mingyu has finally begun to fall asleep, his anxieties soothed slightly by Jihoon’s presence. At the sound of the word Mingyu forces his eyes open, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. “You don’t have my keys.”

Mingyu blinks at him a few times. 

“What?”

“You don’t have my keys. You can’t grab my car.”

“Oh, shit. Right.”

Jihoon makes a soft noise. “It’s okay,” he placates, a sleepy smile decorating his features, “it can stay there. It’ll be alright.”

“When Seok leaves tomorrow, I’ll just have him drop me at the rink and I’ll grab it then.”

“Really?”

Mingyu hums, ignoring the weird tone in Jihoon’s voice that he can’t quite place. 

“Yeah, of course. I could even have Soonyoung do it, if you want someone to stay with you. Seok would be more than willing.”

Mingyu wishes that there was better lighting; he knows that Jihoon has some sort of meaningful expression in his face that he can’t sort out without a real light. Instead he is forced to guess and pray that it isn’t anything terrible or sad. 

“Or,” he says when Jihoon still hasn’t said anything, “we can talk it out tomorrow.” 

“That’s good,” Jihoon mumbles through a yawn and Mingyu can’t bite back his smile.

“You should get some sleep.” 

“You too.”

And with that, they both end up asleep on the line. 

🏒

Mingyu is buzzing as he flits around the apartment, much to Seokmin’s growing annoyance. He doesn’t call him out for it or anything, because despite being a bit of a menace Seokmin is still devastatingly kind, but Mingyu has caught him rolling his eyes at least four times. 

So, he’s anxious. Who can even blame him?

“You should try and chill,” Seokmin scolds softly, trying to juggle the mountain of food that he’s carrying. “You don’t wanna drop anything before we make it to the car.” 

“Fair.” Mingyu focuses on his breathing then, doing his best to chill. He does his best to hold it together, to keep himself steady, as they make their way to the garage and figure out how to secure their feast in the car. Thankfully, Jihoon’s place is only like fifteen minutes away on a bad day and not filled with tight high speed turns, but Mingyu is still anxious about it. 

He’s anxious about everything, really, but who can blame him?

Starting the drive and the drive itself are even a little tense, Seokmin raising an eyebrow at him when he starts to move towards the driver’s side. The message is received immediately, and without a single word exchanged Mingyu just hands Seokmin the keys and moves to get into the passenger seat. When he thinks about it, it’s definitely for the best. 

He texts Soonyoung when they’re a block away, and finally Mingyu realizes that his hands are shaking. 

“Is there a reason why this has fucked you up so badly?” Seokmin asks, his voice soft and careful and concerned, even if his words are a little crass. Mingyu can only sigh, but he can’t say that he doesn’t appreciate it. 

“I dunno, honest,” he eventually manages as the light turns green, robbing Seokmin of his chance to stare him down. Once more, Mingyu’s grateful to evade the look. 

“Is it ‘cuz he wrecked his knee? Or is it the season’s over? Or,” Seokmin pauses, dropping his voice so that it’s even softer and more gentle, cuing Mingyu in on the fact that he should prepare himself for the worst, “or are you worried about what you and Jihoon look like outside the context of the season?” 

Mingyu loves Seokmin, honestly. But currently he would love to throttle him. 

He supposes that means he’s right. That doesn’t mean he has to answer him though, not at all. 

They’re silent as they pull into guest parking, and Mingyu texts Soonyoung a simple we’re here. Within seconds, there’s a man with floppy hair jogging towards them and waving, Soonyoung’s enthusiasm making Mingyu snort. He turns to Seokmin then, about to ask him if he’s ready to go, when he sees him staring at Soonyoung.

“Seok?” Mingyu asks, and Seokmin immediately snaps his gaze away from Soonyoung, his cheeks turning red. 

Interesting, Mingyu thinks as he narrows his eyes, interesting indeed.

“Let’s go,” Seokmin says as he gets out of the car, and Mingyu can only snort as he follows. 

“Hey!” Soonyoung greets happily, smiling at both of them so hard that his eyes are hidden in his cheeks. But Mingyu can’t look at him for very long before he’s being wrapped up in a hug, unprompted and unexpected but not unwelcome. 

“Hi Soonyoung.” 

Soonyoung squeezes him a little harder before he lets go, patting Mingyu’s shoulder as he turns to smile at Seokmin. “You’re Mingyu’s friend, yeah?”

“Yeah. Seokmin,” Seokmin introduces, sticking his hand out for a handshake. Soonyoung just uses it to pull him into a bro hug. 

Mingyu has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. 

“Thanks for coming,” Soonyoung says once he’s freed Seokmin and they’re trying to figure out how to get everything inside without spilling anything. 

“Of course,” Seokmin says before Mingyu can respond, and Mingyu does his best to stifle the knowing grin that he can feel trying to burst out. 

“How is he today?” Mingyu eventually asks as they’re making their way to the elevators, arms ladened with food. 

Soonyoung theatrically rolls his eyes. “Less pain today. Which would be good if that didn’t mean that he’s trying to walk around like a heathen.”

“What?!” 

Soonyoung sighs as he nods. “Yeah. He doesn’t do the whole sitting still and resting thing well. And I told him he has to this time,” Soonyoung puffs out, leading them into the elevator and hitting the button before he’s leaning against the wall, “but even then he can’t really handle it. I was hoping you might be able to help him chill the fuck out.” 

Mingyu grimaces. “I dunno, but I’ll try like hell.” 

“That’s all any of us can do.” 

The mood is mostly somber as they walk to Jihoon’s apartment, Soonyoung letting them in without any fanfare. 

“Jihoon? Where’d you go?” Soonyoung calls as they all make their way to the kitchen, the cocoon of blankets and pillows on the couch vacant. 

“Bathroom!” Jihoon calls back and Soonyoung seems to relax slightly. 

“Mingyu and Seokmin are here! They brought food!” Soonyoung shrugs at the pair as they figure out what needs to be refrigerated and what doesn’t, Soonyoung poking and prodding and peeking at the selection. It makes Seokmin laugh softly, and though he tries to hide the noise with his hand, it still catches Soonyoung’s attention. He smiles up at Seokmin then, and Mingyu is convinced that everyone who’s been on the receiving end of that smile has fallen in love with Soonyoung. No questions asked. 

Mingyu leaves them to have their moment and heads towards the bathroom, the sound of the sink running greeting him in the hallway. He knocks on the doorframe and stays behind the open door, just in case Jihoon doesn’t want him to see for any reason. 

“I’m using my crutches, mom,” Jihoon says in an annoyed tone, and Mingyu is sure that he thinks he’s Soonyoung. 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He listens as Jihoon seems to freeze, the door opening further before the clicking of crutches starts. 

And suddenly, after what feels like seconds and also eons, Mingyu finds himself face to face with Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to hold him close and never let him go, but he’s a little too scared to do it, too scared to hurt him. 

Jihoon, however, shares none of these qualms, and Mingyu finds himself with an armful of Jihoon in a moment’s notice. He’s a little startled and all, but when he hears Jihoon sniffle against his chest, he feels himself snap back into reality and into action. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mingyu soothes, wrapping his arms around Jihoon and cradling him close. He keeps a hand securely around Jihoon’s waist in order to help hold his weight and to ensure that even if his crutches fall he’s still supported, but his other hand cradles the back of Jihoon’s head as gently as he can. Jihoon has his hands clutching so hard to Mingyu’s shirt that Mingyu can still feel the bite of his nails in his sides, and though he’s gone silent, the growing dampness on Mingyu’s shirt speaks to the fact that he’s crying. 

Jihoon, Jihoon, is crying. 

Mingyu’s world feels like it’s tilting on its axis. 

“Why don’t we get you sitting, baby?” Mingyu asks softly once Jihoon’s started to shake. Whether it be from pain or exertion or something else entirely, Mingyu can’t be sure. But he’d rather get Jihoon comfortable and spared from injury than know the details. 

And though he expects a fight, all Jihoon does is sigh in defeat. “Okay.” 

Mingyu’s heart hurts. 

“Do you want me to carry you?” He offers, only to be snorted at. 

“No, that’s okay. I can make it there.” 

“Okay,” Mingyu agrees softly, stepping back slightly and allowing Jihoon to get his bearings, find his balance. When Jihoon looks up at him, his eyes sad and red and misty, his mouth twisted as if he was trying to smile but he just can’t do it, Mingyu feels his heart begin to wail. “Okay?” Mingyu manages to ask before the tears can well in his own eyes, pressing a kiss to Jihoon’s temple when the older man eventually nods. 

Together they make their way to the living room and Mingyu helps to get Jihoon comfortable, doing his best to avoid looking at Jihoon’s knee. Soonyoung has it wrapped in a compression bandage now, but with the quick glances he’s seen he knows that the bruise extends further than the flesh toned elastics. 

“You hungry?” Mingyu asks softly once he has Jihoon propped up and comfortable. He’s about to ask again when gentle hands catch his cheeks, and slowly he’s guided close for a kiss. Mingyu has to brace himself on the cushions to ensure that he doesn’t crush or hurt Jihoon, but he can’t even care. It feels like it’s been years since he’s been able to kiss his boyfriend so thoroughly, and if it meant scaling a mountain, he’d do it to be able to do this. 

After they’ve broken apart slightly, panting into each other’s mouths and Mingyu feels a dumb grin start to possess him, he has half the mind to wonder why they haven’t been interrupted yet. He places a quick few pecks to Jihoon’s lips and cheeks before he pulls away further, looking into the kitchen and squinting at its occupants. 

Sure, Soonyoung and Seokmin aren’t doing anything unorthodox, per say, but their proximity and smiles and moving lips speak to a hushed conversation that they’re not interested in sharing. Mingyu squints a little harder, watching Seokmin begin to cover his laugh with his hand before Soonyoung’s stealing it and placing a kiss to his knuckles, before Mingyu moves back to where he was, rather happily propped on top of Jihoon. 

It’s easy to tell that Jihoon’s been watching him the whole time, his smile slightly teasing as his knuckles knock against Mingyu’s cheek. “What’s got you so interested?” He asks, though his voice remains quiet and private, just like the pair in the kitchen.

Mingyu shakes his head before he thinks of something. “You know when you were talking about setting Seok up with someone?”

Jihoon only hums in response, the hand on his cheek moving to run through his hair, trace patterns on the nape of his neck. It takes Mingyu a moment to pull it together and not get distracted by the simple touches, but he manages it all the same. If you ask him, he deserves a prize.

“Was that someone Soonyoung?”

Jihoon just laughs softly, tugging Mingyu down so that he may press a chaste kiss to his forever waiting lips. 

“I’m guessing they’re hitting it off?” Jihoon half laughs against Mingyu’s lips, driving him absolutely insane. 

“Soonyoung’s kissing his knuckles.” 

Jihoon snorts softly. “He’s a goner.” 

“Seok seems to be too.” 

They laugh together softly before Mingyu moves, burying his face in Jihoon’s neck and shuffling slightly so that it’s easier to hold himself up. Jihoon makes an unimpressed noise, batting at his shoulder in a weak protest. 

“What’re you doing, dork?”

“Giving the idiots in the kitchen a few more minutes without crushing you.” 

Jihoon hums for a moment, his fingers scratching at Mingyu’s scalp. “Fair enough.” 

Lord only knows how much time passes, the two of them just clinging to each other and basking in the hold, when a voice from the kitchen finally brings them back into the present. 

“Do either of you want food?” 

Mingyu finally stands up, stretching as he goes. He raises an eyebrow at the duo blushing in the kitchen but he decides to be kind and not call them out, turning to Jihoon instead. “You want me to grab you a plate?” 

Jihoon’s responding smile is small and sedated, a private look that Mingyu is grateful that he just gets to keep seeing. “If you don’t mind.”

Mingyu salutes and Jihoon laughs, and maybe, just maybe, everything really will be okay. 

🏒

Mingyu likes Soonyoung, but it’s pretty clear that Seokmin likes Soonyoung, if you catch his drift. The conspiratorial looks that he shares with Jihoon while they sit and chat speaks volumes to the fact that he feels the same. 

Sure, it’s a little funny, but Mingyu can’t help but to feel warm, knowing how happy Seokmin seems. Soonyoung too, for that matter. 

They fit together in a way that makes Mingyu’s own heart turn to goo, but he doesn’t bother to investigate it. Instead he holds Jihoon’s hand and rests his head against his shoulder, content with where he is and who he’s with. 

But all things must come to an end, and it starts with Soonyoung apologizing for having to go soon. He runs Mingyu through the basics and gives him his number, much to Jihoon’s clear annoyance, but he still does it just in case Jihoon’s too tired to do it himself. Or at least that’s what he says, and Mingyu doesn’t have any reason not to believe him, even if Jihoon seems to. 

“Hey, do you want us to get your car?” Seokmin asks, standing next to Soonyoung like he belongs there. It makes Mingyu smile, to see Seokmin so excited to be able to spend more time with someone. It’s been a long time since Mingyu’s seen him like this. 

“You’d be willing to?” Jihoon asks, his voice twisted in a way that makes Mingyu squeeze his hand a little tighter. 

“Sure! Soonyoung can drive me to the rink, and then I can come back here and say bye and everything before I have to go.” Seokmin’s words are easy, casual, and Mingyu knows without looking that Jihoon’s going to agree to it. 

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, Ji,” Soonyoung placates easily, and Mingyu can literally feel when Jihoon begins to settle. 

“Okay.” The duo smile widely and start to leave when Mingyu suddenly thinks of something.

“Hey wait,” Mingyu calls, catching Seokmin’s attention immediately. “Can you swing by the apartment? I think I left my overnight bag there.”

Seokmin shakes his head, his smile bright even if he’s pretending to be annoyed. “It’s in the car. I had a feeling you would’ve forgotten it.” 

Mingyu blinks. He’s not sure when Seokmin would’ve done that, but he’s not about to ask. Instead he just shoots Seokmin a smile, cuddling up to Jihoon a little more. “Thanks Seokkie.”

Seokmin just winks at him. “Don’t worry about it. Or if you wanna worry about it you can always buy me a coffee,” he teases and Mingyu can’t help but to laugh.

“Sure, Seok.” 

And with that they leave, letting Jihoon and Mingyu bask in the quiet that comes with it being just them. Mingyu can’t say that he minds, happy to be able to sit with his boyfriend and not have to think too hard about it.

He’s half dozing a little while later when Jihoon nudges him softly.

“Hey, do you mind grabbing me an ice pack? There should be a cold one in the freezer.”

Mingyu hums softly as he blinks his eyes open, looking at Jihoon with what he’s sure is a beyond concerned expression. “Does it hurt? Do you want meds too or anything?”

“No, that’s okay,” Jihoon placates easily, reaching out to squeeze Mingyu’s bicep. “I’m not due for meds yet. Just supposed to be doing an icing regimen and all that jazz.”

Mingyu makes a sad noise as he stands, reaching out to move Jihoon’s bangs out of his face. “If you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure, I promise.”

Mingyu takes him at his word, finding the ice packs in the freezer and grabbing one without a question. He does however pause at the fridge, snagging a Coke Zero for Jihoon and a few snacks for himself before he makes his way back to the couch. He leaves the snacks on the table, handing Jihoon the ice pack and watching him work. Jihoon undoes the last round of wrapping of the bandages with minimal wincing before he’s placing the ice pack where he wants it, securing the elastic around it. It looks easy as Jihoon does it, which only has Mingyu’s heart twinging.

“How often have you had to do something like this?”

Jihoon turns to him with confusion clear on his expression, his fingers still fidgeting with the ice pack, “What do you mean?”

“You’re just really good at that,” Mingyu says softly, waving to Jihoon’s knee with his free hand. “Looks like you’ve had a ton of practice.”

Jihoon shakes his head and laughs softly, finally happy with the placement of the pack. “Probably not as often as you think. But when you block a shot where you don’t have padding, ice helps a lot.” 

Mingyu winces at the words, but he hands off the soda and smiles at the almost ecstatic expression Jihoon offers him. 

“That doesn't sound fun.”

Jihoon just shrugs. “Hazard of the job.”

“Doesn’t make it any more pleasant.” 

Jihoon just shrugs, not bothering to fight with him on it. It’s the truth anyway. 

“So I’m sorta fucked up,” Jihoon says softly, offering Mingyu a sad sort of smile, “and Soonyoung couldn’t help me shower yesterday with how bad everything was. But when I’m due for the next round of those massive pain meds, you think you could help me clean up?”

Mingyu finds Jihoon’s hand and squeezes it, sure that his own expression is filled with fondness. “I’d be more than happy too. And we’ll talk through it before you end up high as a kite, make sure that nothing hurts.” 

“Thanks, Mingyu.” 

“Anything for you, baby,” Mingyu says with a seedy wink, making Jihoon snort.

“Anything, huh?” Jihoon’s sort of melancholy expression gives way to a shark smile, the look sending a little zip down Mingyu’s expression.

“Anything.” And with that, Jihoon tugs him close. 

🏒

Anything turns out to be curling up close and watching a movie, but it’s more than enough for Mingyu. His frayed nerves feel a lot more soothed when he’s sitting with Jihoon, even if they don’t talk about the elephants in the room.

Mingyu’s gotten good at ignoring them. 

But Jihoon doesn’t seem like he’s into talking about it at all, and Mingyu would rather not upset him after everything that’s happened. 

The key turns in the lock then and Mingyu moves to watch the door, smiling at Seokmin as he walks in. “Everything good?” Mingyu asks softly, aware that Jihoon’s half dozing where he pretends to be watching the movie. 

“Yeah. I brought your bag up, too.” 

“Thanks, Seok.” 

Seokmin waves him off, dropping the bag on the floor nearby. “I did swing by the apartment and grab a few other things though, so you should be good for more than just tonight without having to do laundry.”

“Thanks, Seok,” Mingyu says again, and he means it. “I owe ya.” 

“I’ll see you later. Text me with updates?” 

Mingyu nods easily. “‘Course. Drive safe.”

Seokmin waves before he leaves, the quiet sounds of whatever wack ass movie Jihoon put on the only noise in the background. That is until Jihoon shifts, tapping on Mingyu’s arm until he turns to meet his confused gaze.

“How long are you planning on staying?” His voice is soft and tired, and Mingyu swears that once they’ve finished this conversation, they’re going to nap. Jihoon needs all the rest he can get, and Mingyu is still pretty burnt out from walking around in a cloud of panic for so many hours. 

“However long you want me to,” he says softly, and while he brushes Jihoon’s bangs from his eyes, he ignores the tears that gather there. 

When Jihoon pulls him into a hug, Mingyu can’t even say that he’s surprised - not really. Instead, he’s just glad to be able to hold Jihoon. 

“C’mon,” Mingyu starts softly, bullying Jihoon into sitting up for a few moments so that he can sit behind him, lowering him down until he’s fully resting on Mingyu’s chest, “you should get some rest.”

And though Jihoon scoffs at him like that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, he still sighs happily when Mingyu presses a kiss into the crown of his head and relaxes into the hold. Mingyu slips his hand under Jihoon’s shirt and rests his hand on the smooth skin of his stomach, rubbing gentle circles there and biting back a grin when it makes Jihoon hum softly. 

He wishes that Jihoon didn’t have to get hurt for him to have this, but Mingyu has to say he really does love the fact that he gets to hold Jihoon close until the cows come home. 

🏒

Napping is great. Mingyu loves napping. But he especially loves waking up with Jihoon in his arms, still sleeping soundly. 

It’s a wonderful thing, something that he wants to hold close to his heart and never forget what it felt like, what it made him feel. 

He thinks about getting up, getting some food ready and checking the time and checking his phone, but Jihoon makes a soft noise in his sleep and derails those thoughts immediately. 

Didn’t Soonyoung say that he hasn’t been able to sit still very well? Well then, who would he be to interfere with the few times that he can? He’s certainly not a monster, no ma’am.  

Instead of doing anything, Mingyu just sighs and shuffles a touch, getting comfortable once more and falling asleep without fanfare, instead just with a warmth that’s so pressing he has half the mind to think that he’s glowing. 

🏒

“Mingyu.” 

Mingyu hums, only half hearing the voice. He’s still mostly asleep, after all.

“Mingyu, wake up,” the voice says softly, a hand now pushing at his shoulder. 

Mingyu only groans in response. 

“If you don’t wake up I’m gonna end up elbowing you in the balls, idiot.” Those words are finally enough to get Mingyu cracking his eyes open, blinking at his boyfriend with what he’s sure is an unimpressed expression. Jihoon only rolls his eyes fondly, patting at Mingyu’s chest. Finally, the sleep crusted gears in his head begin to turn, and he realizes that Jihoon’s fully sitting up. He paws at Jihoon’s middle and gently tries to tug him back down, but Jihoon bats his hands away easily. 

“I don’t wanna crush you, but I need to pee.”

“Okay?” Mingyu mumbles, trying but failing to understand. 

“I need your help to maneuver so I don’t bend your knee back,” Jihoon explains, his expression still fond even if his voice is flat and unimpressed. 

“Oh, okay.” And with that Mingyu finally moves, shuffling so that his legs are no longer bracketing Jihoon and giving Jihoon the space he needs to shift in order to get off the couch. 

“Thanks, babe,” Jihoon says with a pat to Mingyu’s chest before he’s wiggling, getting himself standing with only a minimal wince. He sighs before he crutches off towards the bathroom, and Mingyu just scrubs his face with his hands. Sure, he knew that he’s been burnt out by his own heightened emotions and anxiety. But that doesn’t mean he realized how terrible it became. Seriously, it comes as a shock to them all really.

Mingyu’s closer to fully awake by the time Jihoon crutches back out into the living space. When Jihoon notices him sitting up and watching he stops where he is and smiles, sinking down so that his crutches are braced on his armpits as he sighs. 

“You wanna do lunch?” Jihoon asks, his smile only growing when Mingyu silently nods. “Can we do it at the table though? I’m getting sick of that couch.” 

Mingyu can’t help but to laugh softly, shaking his head as he clambors towards the kitchen, the little chtk chtk of Jihoon’s crutches slowly following behind. 

“Sure, we can do the table. But what do you want for lunch?” Mingyu holds open the fridge and allows Jihoon to pseudo wiggle his way close enough to see, watching him as he bends fully at the waist, crutches splayed out to the side and mimicking some kind of odd scaffolding, even if they bear absolutely no weight. It’s a little funny and it brings a smile to his face, but Jihoon’s ease of movement really is something that he hadn’t expected to see. 

“Does your training involve a lot of one legged squats?” 

Jihoon looks up at him then, his eyebrows pinched, but his expression smooths when Mingyu just gestures to one of the crutches he’s spinning and clearly not using. 

“Oh. Yeah, actually, you’d be surprised.” 

Mingyu just nods, leaning back against the counter as he allows Jihoon to peruse the new contents of the fridge. It’s a few minutes later when Jihoon looks at him funny, his confusion clear on his face and, in Mingyu’s opinion, cute as hell.

“Is this a whole ass lasagna?”

Mingyu blinks a few times before he moves to peek over the door, sighing when he sees what definitely is the lasagna sitting on the shelf. “Yeah. The plan was to freeze it, Seok probably forgot, but we can def do that for lunch.”

“Why freeze it?” Jihoon asks as he shuffles, finally righting himself on his crutches and moving out of the way, chtk chtk-ing as he goes. 

“It freezes and reheats really well,” he explains easily, dishing them both out a serving onto plates and popping the first one in the microwave, making sure to cover it so that tomato sauce doesn’t splatter all over the microwave. “One of my neighbors said they always bring it to grieving families or when someone’s just had surgery and shit. A bitch to make, especially from scratch, but it can feed an army.”

Jihoon hums in appreciation. “That makes sense.”

Mingyu doesn’t bother to answer him, instead waving towards the table. “Go sit, I’ll bring these out when they’re done.”

“But I like standing here.” 

Mingyu huffs softly, reaching out to gently cradle Jihoon’s waist. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go get off your feet.” Mingyu watches as Jihoon’s expression sours, his eyes moving to the ceiling so that he doesn’t have to even look at Mingyu. A touch offended, Mingyu sighs, turning to scan Jihoon’s apartment before he comes up with an idea. “Why do you like standing here? Is it ‘cuz you’re standing or ‘cuz you’re here?”

“Here,” Jihoon says as he rolls his eyes, clearly pretending that his cheeks aren’t turning red. Mingyu just swoops in to press a kiss to his cheek before he leaves, coming back to the kitchen with a barstool in hand. He sets it down in the corner before he turns to Jihoon, smiling at him as he gestures to the seat.

“You are sooo proud of yourself, huh,” Jihoon grumbles, but obediently he moves to sit on the chair, his knee still straight and his other leg and arms now afforded a break. Mingyu can’t tamp down his grin. 

“And what if I am?” He teases, leaning close to grin in Jihoon’s face. It’s not much of a surprise that a hand is immediately on the back of his neck and Jihoon’s kissing him within an inch of his life. 

The song from the microwave is the only thing that calls their attention away from each other, and Mingyu just knows that his own cheeks are cherry red. Jihoon reaches out and pinches at his cheek with a knowing smirk decorating his features, and it just further proves his thoughts true. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Jihoon teases and Mingyu just waves him off with a smile and an overzealous wink, swapping the now too hot plate of food for the cold one and turning on the microwave before he turns back to face Jihoon again. 

“Are you due for meds soon?” He watches as Jihoon hums softly, turning towards the clock before he seemingly does the math.

“After we eat, yeah.”

“I’m guessing you’ll wanna get clean then?”

Jihoon groans, tossing his head against the wall before he looks at Mingyu through his lashes like the devil he is. “Fuck yes.” 

“Fiend,” Mingyu tosses at him just to watch Jihoon roll his eyes. “Do you have a plastic chair or something? Besides the stool you’re sitting on?”

This time Jihoon just raises an eyebrow as he clearly tries to remember if he does. “Like a foldable one?”

“Exactly a foldable one.”

The smile that Jihoon shoots at him after makes him want to melt. “Yeah, in the back of the hall closet. You think that would work as a shower bench?” 

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

The microwave sings its little song before they can continue their conversation, and Mingyu moves to collect the hot lasagna before he’s back to smiling at Jihoon. “To the table?”

“To the table,” Jihoon agrees, standing and crutching over to his table. Mingyu follows in suit, putting the plates down before he’s popping back into the kitchen to grab forks. While he’s there he grabs them both drinks, then sliding into a chair not occupied by Jihoon nor his leg. 

Their conversations over lunch are meaningless in the best way, banter that they won’t exactly remember a year from now but an atmosphere that will forever sit with them. Mingyu has half the mind to wonder when the last time he’s felt like this was, but then that would require him to take his focus out of the current moment, which, no thank you. 

His boyfriend is not only within reach but able to have a full blooded conversation with him after what feels like eons, especially one that isn’t flooded with exhaustion or has its end constantly looming due to a demanding schedule. Of course he’s going to cherish these moments until he dies. There’s nothing else for him to do.

Once Mingyu’s cleared the plates and they’ve gotten pain meds into Jihoon, they slowly begin to prepare for the ordeal of showering without a major joint. Admittedly, Mingyu is a little anxious about it, anxious about everything really, but Jihoon just squeezes his arm or shoulder or hand whenever he starts to feel even the slightest bit overwhelmed. Part of him is surprised that Jihoon can do so much to help soothe him, while the other part just laughs. Of course Jihoon can help him feel better. 

The meds are about to start kicking in when they finally get Jihoon in the bathroom, waiting on the plastic chair, before Mingyu finally thinks better of the brace on Jihoon’s leg. 

“Do you think we can take the ace off?” 

Jihoon hums softly before he shrugs, tugging at the elastic until it comes loose and slowly unraveling it, revealing the absolute disaster that is the joint underneath. Mingyu has to look away, the short glance already making him feel sick to his stomach. 

“It’s off,” Jihoon says with a shrug, and Mingyu forces himself to take a deep breath and smile at his boyfriend. 

“Should we try and, like, cover your brace or something?” 

Jihoon blinks at it, humming softly as he looks at his shower head before he’s looking back at it. “I mean, we could? I think it would be easier to take it off, which I’d rather not,” he adds before Mingyu can start to tell him how bad of an idea that sounds. “But it might be worth it to just washcloth everything but my hair. I just really want help with my hair.” Jihoon’s eyes are wide and sad as he blinks up at Mingyu, and Mingyu realizes that Jihoon must feel so helpless right now that it could kill him. Before he even thinks of saying anything he’s wrapping his arms around Jihoon and rubbing a hand down his back.

“Of course I’ll help you with your hair, Ji,” he eases softly, pulling away to smile at Jihoon and cup his cheeks, swiping away the few tears that he notices escaping but refusing to call anymore attention to them. “Why don’t we do that first, and we can see what you’re up to after that. How does that sound?”

Jihoon’s next breath shakes but he manages a nod, reaching up to squeeze Mingyu’s wrists in silent thanks. Mingyu just shakes his head at him, tugging off his own socks before he turns to look at what Jihoon’s wearing. 

“What do you think about losing the shirt?”

Jihoon doesn’t bother to say anything before he’s taking it off, a few bruises in various states of healing now on full display. The last series had been a rough one, Mingyu knows, he watched it, but to see the actual marks caused makes him cringe a little bit. But he does his best to keep his expression clear and to instead take Jihoon’s shirt from him, draping a towel around his shoulders when Jihoon already seems to be cold. Jihoon offers him a sweet smile, and Mingyu feels like he’s absolutely melted and is slipping away down the drain.

“You ready?” He asks softly, earning himself a slight nod as Jihoon tilts his head back. Mingyu runs his hands through Jihoon’s hair a few times before he pulls the shower head out of its stand, aiming it towards the floor as he turns the water on and waits for it to heat. It takes almost no time, for which Mingyu is incredibly jealous, but he adjusts it to his own personal liking before he’s turning back to Jihoon again. 

“Let me know if it’s too hot, okay?” 

Jihoon barely nods in response and Mingyu takes it as it is, wetting Jihoon’s hair thoroughly before he turns the water off again. He’d rather not get soaked, thank you very much, and if the water heats up that quickly, he really has no worries about having to turn it back on in order to rinse everything out. 

Hands now free, Mingyu finds Jihoon’s shampoo and begins to work it into his sweaty locks, making sure that he doesn’t miss any major areas. Jihoon seems to enjoy the ministrations too, if the way that he goes boneless or the content noises he makes mean anything, which only brings Mingyu a feeling of relief. 

He probably washes Jihoon’s hair for too long, but he can’t be assed to care, too busy scratching and massaging the scalp underneath his fingers. 

It’s only once he’s sure that he’s washed every single centimeter of Jihoon’s scalp and Jihoon is practically putty in his hands that Mingyu fiddles with the shower head again, allowing the water to warm up before he’s rinsing out the shampoo methodically. Jihoon seems to enjoy this too, or at least drugged up Jihoon does, almost continuously humming a happy few notes. It’s endearing, Mingyu has to say, and it only makes him that much more enamored by the other man. 

Once it’s rinsed Mingyu repeats the same process with Jihoon’s conditioner, but this time he pays more attention to the length and ends of his hair rather than the scalp, but that doesn’t seem to dampen Jihoon’s spirits at all. When Mingyu chances a glance at his face, he finds Jihoon smiling sweetly with his eyes closed, clearly more than happy just to be pampered. 

Mingyu can’t help himself; he swoops down to press a sloppy kiss to Jihoon’s cheek. Rather than a smack, the silly action earns him a giggle. 

Mingyu’s ready to soar. 

He rinses Jihoon’s hair once more and ensures that it’s fully free of product before he turns off the water, slotting the shower head back into its holder. He towels Jihoon’s hair until it’s mostly dry before he moves in front of Jihoon, crouching so that he’s at his eyeline. 

“Hey,” he starts softly, watching as Jihoon flutters his eyes open, his expression so openly sappy that Mingyu feels like he’s the one who’s melting. “Do you wanna try and wash up?”

Jihoon blinks at him a few times, the movement slow and sedated and overwhelmingly cute. “Can we sit?” Jihoon asks instead, reaching out to touch Mingyu. Of course, Mingyu allows it, lacing their fingers together and smiling at the lovestruck expression that grows on Jihoon’s face. 

“Of course we can sit. But do you wanna put your ace back on?”

Jihoon looks at his knee then, his head tilting to the side as he stares at it for a few moments. It’s as Mingyu truly begins to worry that Jihoon looks back up, shaking his head as he goes. “Should let it breathe.” 

Mingyu hums easily, grabbing Jihoon a new t-shirt and helping him get it on before he retrieves his crutches. “Ready?” 

Jihoon nods but Mingyu still ends up doing most of the work to get him standing, hauling Jihoon up by his hips and steadying him as he tries to get his crutches under him. He keeps stumbling on the crutches which is terrifying, but Mingyu can’t figure out how to carry him without hurting his knee. Instead he’s forced to watch and hover and help Jihoon to the couch, breathing a sigh of relief when they finally manage to get him seated. 

Mingyu doesn’t get very far before Jihoon manages to get a hand in his shirt, knocking him off balance enough to send him flailing as he falls onto the couch. The only reason the roughness of the fall doesn’t send him into an anxious tailspin is that he can hear Jihoon laughing the whole time, not an ounce of pain anywhere to be found. 

Reassured that he didn’t actually hurt Jihoon, Mingyu shoots him the most over dramatic offended expression he can manage, and he watches as Jihoon keels over in a fit of laughter, the bastard. He’s still wheezing on the couch by the time Mingyu’s righted himself, but Mingyu admittedly has to fight back his own smile. 

“That was rude,” he says in a deadpan, watching as Jihoon continues to giggle. Mingyu just rolls his eyes. “Was there a reason you decided to pull me down here?”

“Duh,” is Jihoon’s only response, which again:

“Rude.”

Jihoon just continues to laugh, tugging at Mingyu until he’s half sitting half lying on the chaise. “Get comfortable,” Jihoon instructs and Mingyu listens, finding a spot that doesn’t make any muscles or joints protest about their position before he turns back to Jihoon.

“What’s next?”

Mingyu’s answer comes in the form of Jihoon almost collapsing on top of him, his head finding its home on Mingyu’s stomach as he wiggles into a comfortable position. The whole thing - the theatrics, the pushing, the sly answers - it all makes sense now. 

With them like this, they still get to cuddle, and they don’t have to worry about Jihoon’s leg getting hurt. Nor, Mingyu realizes, do they have to worry about any balls getting bruised when one of them has to pee.

“Is this good?” Mingyu asks, and sure, Jihoon’s half wet hair is sitting on top of him, but he can’t care, not when it means he gets to run his fingers through it whenever he wants. And yeah, he’s a glorified pillow, but Mingyu - forever the base of the pigpile, dogpile, cuddle puddle, et cetera - doesn’t care. Honestly, he likes it like this, the steady weight of someone he cherishes feels like a constant reminder that they’re there. He really does love it.

“Yeah,” Jihoon mumbles, finding Mingyu’s hand somewhere and lacing their fingers together as he settles further. 

It’s a little while later, after Mingyu had long since assumed that Jihoon had fallen asleep, that the older man speaks up.

“Mingyu?” His voice is deathly soft and sleep ridden, but Mingyu still manages to hear it all the same. 

“Yes?” 

Mingyu runs his fingers through Jihoon’s hair once again, earning himself another happy hum. “Thank you.”

Mingyu can’t stop his smile, not like he would ever want to. “Anything for you.”

And somehow, Jihoon’s content little hum is enough to tell Mingyu that everything’s going to work out. He can’t wait to see how it gets even better than this.