Work Text:
It was meant to be the perfect road trip. Mingi was able to score last minute tickets to the final show of his favorite artist, who had a very exclusive tour stop list, which their city did not make the cut for. The nearest show is only a short, 15-hour drive from them, very manageable as Mingi had pitched it at the time of purchase. Mingi would drive to the show so Yeosang could do some work with his hotspot, and then they’d switch on the way back after the festival so Mingi could do the same, neither having to drain too much time off for the trip. It would also be the first big trip they’d take together as a couple, a test that Wooyoung says every couple must go through to figure out if they have forever kind of potential. Yeosang’s not worried, though. His relationship with Mingi is nothing like the ones before, and Yeosang is confident that if they can survive their arguments about what to order for dinner then they can definitely survive a long weekend together.
✕
“Are you excited?” Yeosang clicks his seatbelt into the buckle, signaling Mingi to switch the car from park to drive to pull away from Mingi’s apartment building.
“Yes. Kind of. I’m not excited for the 500 something miles of driving today, and then another 400 something tomorrow.” Mingi reaches a hand over to squeeze Yeosang’s thigh. “But with you navigating, I think it’ll be as good as it can get.”
Yeosang’s lips pull tight into a smile, melting under Mingi’s affections. It’s early, and so unfair that they had to roll out of Mingi’s bed at the ungodly hour that they did, but staying over at Mingi’s last night was not just for early morning company. They had a schedule to stick to, finely-tuned by their two brains combined, and they weren’t going to let anything distract them this morning. Excluding the shower they took together, because the time they would’ve saved by showering together was lost to other activities that occurred under the hot stream of water.
But that’s behind them now. Before them is 564 miles (according to Yeosang’s phone) to their halfway point and if they can beat the morning traffic they might arrive ahead of schedule and have time for more other activities in a fresh hotel room.
Mingi pulls up to a stop light just before the freeway entrance when Yeosang gets a funny tingle in his gut. He turns to look into the back of Mingi’s 2010 Ford Taurus, only finding Mingi’s backpack and a pile of their jackets they threw in last night. Yeosang could swear he brought his backpack on his last trip down from the apartment, but not seeing it with Mingi’s backpack is concerning.
No, it’s probably just in the trunk. I’ll get it after we stop for gas and start working then.
…
But why would I have put it in the trunk if I might need to grab my laptop before the next time we stop?
Yeosang looks into the back again, maybe his eyes just glazed over the lump of a black bag as it blended into the shadows.
“Looking for something?” Mingi asks, watching Yeosang who turns in his seat to face Mingi.
“Do you remember where I put my backpack?” Yeosang asks, turning back to the back seat again, lifting up the jackets only to find the worn beige cloth of the seat under.
“Your backpack?”
Mingi’s questioning answer rings a small alarm of concern in Yeosang. “Yeah, when I brought it down.”
“I don’t remember you bringing down a backpack. Just your heavy-ass suitcase, which I put in the trunk.” The light turns green before them, but Mingi doesn’t move his foot off the brake.
“Is it too late to turn back?” Yeosang asks sheepishly, just before he’s cut off by the loud car honk behind them.
A small mishap, but it was bound to happen. Best to get it out of the way early on in the trip, Yeosang thinks. After they swing back for Yeosang’s bag, then their perfect road trip will begin.
✕
“Which exit am I taking again?” Mingi turns down the volume on the stereo, lowering the road trip playlist he curated with songs that are confirmed on the setlist for the show.
“Exit 72.”
“Didn’t you say 73 last time?”
Yeosang looks up from his laptop seeing the overhead sign warning about the approaching exit 72 in less than half a mile. “I’m pretty sure I said 72.”
“Can you double check the directions?” Mingi asks, letting the car decelerate slowly, avoiding having to make a decision about the encroaching exit 72, much to the dismay of the car behind him that zooms around to pass them on the left.
“Not quickly. This hotspot is eating up all my phone data and I can barely open my work documents.” Yeosang begins opening up the Maps app on his phone, but it can’t even load their location, let alone the directions Yeosang had saved. The car closes in on the exit, Mingi gripping the steering wheel tightly, but unable to decide whether to take it or keep driving on. “Just take this exit while I look it up. If it’s not right we’ll get back on the freeway and keep going.”
Mingi’s groan isn’t the boost of confidence Yeosang was looking for, but Mingi follows his instructions anyway, slowly climbing the exit ramp.
As soon as Mingi turns off the ramp, Yeosang immediately realizes that it was exit 73, and Mingi was right to question his earlier answer. The map still isn’t loading properly, but Yeosang remembers that the gas station was supposed to be right off the exit, and as far as he can see there’s only farmland for miles down the road.
“This doesn’t look right.” Mingi says, who had been so excited to stop for lunch at one of the largest rest stops along their route.
Yeosang looks back down to his phone, the device suddenly finding all the data to confirm that this was indeed the wrong exit. “I think you were right. I did say 73 last time you asked.”
Mingi turns to glare at Yeosang, slowing the car to pull a u-turn in the middle of the barren road. The lack of city cars makes Yeosang feel a little less bad for messing up his navigating job. At least Mingi can do his turn around without others looking at them.
Yeosang resets the directions on his phone, expecting it to say “get back on the freeway, dummy”, but instead it flashes a warning about an unexpected closure. Through the passenger window Yeosang finds the flashing construction sign on the side of the road, confirming what his phone is saying: on-ramp at 72 will be closed for the next six weeks as ongoing construction continues.
“What does that mean?” Mingi groans, stopping the car just short of the sign, unsure where to go, looking to his trusted navigator.
“That we’ll have to take a detour.” Yeosang holds up his phone, reading through the new list of directions more closely. “Maps says that we need to head north for a few miles, and then east for another seven, and then south for a few miles and then we’ll be at the gas stop.”
“22 minutes?” Mingi bemoans, peeking over Yeosang’s thumb that had been hiding their new arrival time at the bottom of the screen.
“Oops.”
✕
“Order number 4.” The grouchy looking woman from behind the counter screams to a nearly empty room. Yeosang steps forward to grab the brown bag that’s already accumulated a few grease stains. He whispers a quick thank you, but the woman has already turned away before Yeosang finishes his sentence.
Yeosang takes the brown bag in his freehand, the other hand preoccupied with holding a flimsy, plastic bag full of pre-packaged snacks and drinks to accompany their warm meals on the remainder of their drive. Originally they’d planned to stop for longer so they could stretch their legs more, but in an effort to make up time their food will have to be on-the-go.
Outside, Mingi deposits the gas pump back onto the holder, turning back to close up the gas cap on his car, spotting Yeosang approaching. “Ready to get back on the road?” Mingi says with a smile, like Yeosang hasn’t derailed their schedule two separate times this morning.
Yeosang plops the bags of food onto the trunk hood of Mingi’s car. “Oh yeah. I think there’s enough food in here to keep us going until the hotel.”
Mingi leans over the car, an encouraging peck just missing Yeosang’s lips. “Awesome, let’s get out of here.”
A couple bumps like forgotten luggage and a wrong exit won’t ruin them. This trip may be a test according to Wooyoung, but Yeosang will still find a way to pass, even with a few dings on his report card.
Mingi drives the car out of the gas station, seamlessly merging back onto the freeway since the on-ramp for exit 73 is wide open for them. Yeosang begins setting out their food and drinks, putting Mingi’s drink in the front cup holder and precariously perching his food on the center console so he can eat and drive. Yeosang takes out his food, resting the warm boxes on his lap, ready to dive in on his sampler appetizer combo meal.
“Did you get my barbeque sauce?” Mingi’s question stopping Yeosang mid-bite of his first fried mozzarella stick.
Right, the barbeque sauce that I usually hold for Mingi so he can dip his fries while he drives, because he hates dry fries. The barbeque sauce that I definitely added to the order but completely forgot to check for when I grabbed the bag. The barbeque sauce I definitely would have brought out if it was in the bag.
Yeosang sets the uneaten half of his mozzarella stick back into his box. He reaches for the brown bag, which feels suspiciously light for the sauces he hopes are at the bottom of the bag. When he doesn’t find the missing sauce (as he suspected would happen), Yeosang wishes he could fall into the bag and hide in there.
Mingi lets out a long sigh from his side of the car. “No barbeque sauce?”
“Do you want to turn around?” Yeosang turns to look at Mingi, prepared for a cold glare, but he’s still looking out the windshield, face indifferent and unreadable.
“No, it’s fine.” Mingi reaches for a french fry from his box of food, biting into the dry fry, his face morphing into an odd grimace as he chews.
✕
“I think it’s under the last name Kang.” Mingi tells the front desk attendant.
Against all odds, the pair have finally made it to their hotel more than halfway to their final destination, and only 45 minutes off from their anticipated arrival time. It seems Yeosang’s minor mishaps couldn’t totally derail their schedule. The slip-ups wear on their spirits and patience with each other, yes, but a good night’s rest in an average travel hotel should patch things up to start again in the morning.
After a long few minutes of typing away on their keyboard, the desk attendant shakes their head at Mingi. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t see a reservation under that name. Is it under a different name?”
Mingi looks back to Yeosang, who is equally as confused by this answer. “Maybe Song?”
But Yeosang knows it’s under his name because he was the one tasked with booking the hotel they’d stop at on the way there, so he pulls out his phone to pull up the confirmation email he received after booking.
“No, I’m still not seeing anything for tonight, sir. Do you have the confirmation code?” The attendant eyes Mingi and Yeosang, their tolerance for the two dwindling.
Yeosang reads out the code from the email, the attendant typing it into their system, then clicking around a few more times before meeting Yeosang again. “Can you read me the physical address it lists for the hotel in your email, sir?”
Yeosang begins reading out the address, stopping when he gets to the state and zip code, realizing what the attendant must already have figured out.
“I believe you’ve booked one of our other hotels located in another state.” The attendant confirms somberly. Yeosang is sure the desk attendant has had their fair share of customers lose it on them for a mistake they had no fault in, but Yeosang won’t react like that.
“Do you have any available rooms?” Mingi’s voice sounds just as desperate as Yeosang feels for a big hotel bed and a nice shower, even if it means spending more than what they’d budgeted.
“Unfortunately, no. There’s a big convention in the city and all our rooms are booked through the weekend. You could try another hotel, but I imagine they will also have limited availability.”
Still, Mingi and Yeosang call every hotel within a 10-mile radius looking for any kind of room, but to their bad luck they find nothing except for a five-star hotel that could give them a room for the price of what Yeosang makes in a week. They keep searching further and further out, but unless they want to drive another hour in the wrong direction of where they’re headed, they decide they’re better off sleeping in the car. The front desk attendant who watched from afar as the two sat in the lobby trying to find another hotel offers them a night of free parking and vouchers for the in-house buffet, which the two happily take.
“I should’ve asked to borrow Yunho’s truck. At least then we’d have the truck bed to stretch out in.” Mingi jokes from the back seat, but Yeosang can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to maneuver himself to a more comfortable position.
When the engineers designed the Ford Taurus, Yeosang doesn’t imagine that they envisioned a six-foot man sleeping in the back row of seats, but there Mingi is with his knees bent and torso curled over just to fit. Yeosang’s not sure if his set up is much better though. He’s got the passenger seat all the way reclined and the back of his seat resting just above Mingi’s legs. It wouldn’t be so bad if Yeosang hadn’t been sitting in this seat for 9 and a half hours already today, but he’s not in a place to complain.
“I’m sorry, Mingi. I should’ve double checked the booking.” Yeosang flips around in the seat, lying awkwardly on his side to get a better angle on Mingi. “Who knew there were so many Glendales across the country?”
“It’s okay. It seems like something I would do too.” Mingi pauses for a moment, reaching for his phone next to him on the floor below the seat, tapping away quickly. “Okay, good, I booked this hotel for the trip back.”
Nope, this is a mistake only I could make.
“Do you want me to drive tomorrow?” Yeosang offers weakly.
“I’ll be okay. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you’ll get much better sleep than me.” Mingi taps his knee against Yeosang’s seat.
“I still feel bad. Our first trip alone together and it keeps going wrong.” At this rate, Yeosang’s grade for the trip might as well be a C-.
Mingi leans up onto his elbows, bringing his face closer to Yeosang. “As long as we make it in time for the concert, then this trip will have been perfect for me.” Mingi pulls himself up further, reaching a hand across to cup against Yeosang’s face, bringing him in for their lips to meet.
Yeosang tilts his head, letting Mingi guide him as their lips fall into something deeper than a gentle goodnight kiss. Yeosang’s hand finds its way against Mingi’s neck, Mingi’s quickening heart rate pulsing under his palm. Yeosang’s list of mistakes are so easily wiped clean when he’s holding Mingi like this and Mingi’s lips open for him so freely. Yeosang’s never been all that interested in sex in a car, if only for the lack of privacy, but he could be convinced tonight if that’s what Mingi’s looking for too.
The sun reflector blocks out the windshield and gives them some privacy, but they didn’t have much else to work with and left every other window clear. Yeosang considers using some of their clothes to block out more of the windows, but when Mingi breathes a needy little moan in Yeosang’s mouth, he decides he doesn’t want to waste anymore time on a silly notion like privacy.
Yeosang wiggles and squirms in his seat, attempting to move his way to the back to climb on top of Mingi, his stray foot pressing into the car horn.
“Yeosang, we gotta be quiet.” Mingi teases, finally able to reach at Yeosang’s waist, feebly pulling Yeosang into the back.
Yeosang smiles into Mingi, thinking of how much he’ll enjoy it when Mingi’s the one making noise under him. Halfway into the backseat though, a distant conversation in the parking lot grows louder and louder, it sounds like multiple voices shouting about something. Yeosang tries to ignore it, but then there’s a car alarm that sets off in the other direction. And even when he’s able to ignore those together, as he’s finally able to get on top of Mingi, the whole setup feels wrong. Well, Mingi and what he wants to do with Mingi doesn’t feel wrong, but Yeosang’s neck is already growing uncomfortable from the angle and he feels a cramp coming on in his foot.
How long would he have to tolerate it though? They’ve been quick before, it’s not Yeosang’s favorite, but they can do it. He’s not sure how clean-up will go without running water, but he tries to slow his thoughts. He’s getting ahead of himself. He should just enjoy the feel of Mingi’s warm body under him, letting his hands explore the backside of Mingi’s head until he reaches behind to the seat for stability, his hand instead tangling into the seatbelt just next to Mingi.
Yeosang pulls his lips away from Mingi’s, who only moves to pucker his own lips against Yeosang’s neck, a blossoming mark for later. “Should we stop?” Yeosang asks.
“Do you want to?” Mingi mumbles against Yeosang’s skin, frustratingly answering Yeosang’s question with another question.
“Kind of. We had a long day and we’ll have a long day tomorrow. Maybe we should just sleep.” Mingi’s kisses stop as Yeosang’s answer slowly falls out of his mouth, which Yeosang also kind of hates because so far these last two minutes have been the peak of the trip for him. He can feel the frown on his face forming, and hopes Mingi understands that it's not for him, but at all the dumb mistakes throughout the day.
“Sleep sounds good too.” Mingi answers with a smile, his fingers still wrapped around Yeosang’s middle, squeezing gently, but strong enough to bring a small giggle to Yeosang’s lips. “Do you want to stay back here with me for a little bit longer?”
They shouldn’t fit back here together, logistically speaking, but with their combined willpower and determination, Yeosang twists his limbs around Mingi’s and rests his chest on Mingi’s. He’ll probably move back to the front again in the middle of the night, but for now, falling asleep on Mingi feels just as good as the hotel bed they should be sleeping in.
✕
As expected, their night in the car was not their best sleep. Between the random car sounds around them, trying to sleep around each other, and the lumpy cushioning of the car seats, it’s a miracle either of them slept for the six or so hours that they did manage. But today is a new day and Yeosang is determined to not let the previous day get to him.
They make a quick pit stop at a nearby gas station before heading out on the road again. On the same lot as the gas station, Yeosang spots a small coffee stand and quickly decides that a coffee treat will be the perfect way to start today’s ride with the best intentions.
“Coffee?” Mingi asks cheerily, watching as Yeosang slides into the car as he carefully holds onto the two iced americanos in the crook of his arm against his chest.
“To make up for yesterday’s mishaps.” Yeosang replies, placing his cup into the cup holder between him and Mingi. He leans over to hand Mingi’s cup off with a kiss. Mingi greets Yeosang’s lips with his own, but doesn’t realize that he was expected to take the coffee from Yeosang, who in turn releases the coffee thinking Mingi took it, ultimately dropping and spilling the drink all over Mingi’s lap.
Great start.
✕
It was a mostly silent drive the remainder of the way to their destination with only the low volume of Mingi’s playlist and white noise of the freeway filling the air. They hadn’t anticipated traffic to be so bad on a Saturday. The expected 6 hours turned into almost 8, but it means they arrive at their next hotel well after check-in time so they don’t have to wait for their room. Relief pours down Yeosang when the front desk confirms that they did receive a reservation under Mingi’s name. The two hurry upstairs with their bags, moving at lightning speed to wash up, change, and leave in time to walk the 15 minutes to the venue.
They approach a massive, open air stadium, surrounded by hoards of people. Yeosang knows they missed the opening act, based on the time and the fact that he can hear the opening act playing out the open roof and spilling to the surrounding streets. The people outside the venue don’t seem to be in a rush to get inside, many of which seem to be content with a spot on the grass surrounding the stadium, like this concert is lite entertainment for the Saturday evening picnic.
A roar of noise comes from the stadium. Applause and cheers, and the music that had greeted Yeosang and Mingi fades away along with the screams of fans.
“Good, that’s the last opener so we should have enough time to swing past merch. I might want to get something, but I’ve seen the prices and how bad the lines get, so we might just skip it and go straight to our seats.” Mingi his pace quickening as he fires off his plan for when they’re inside.
“Works for me.” Yeosang reaches out for Mingi’s hand, only because he’s already struggling to keep up with Mingi’s long strides. “Do you have the tickets?”
Yeosang doesn’t stop in time with Mingi, his arm being pulled back with a rock solid Mingi suddenly behind him. “The tickets.” Mingi whispers, eyes glazing over as he stares at the ground before them.
“You do have the tickets, right?” Yeosang feels Mingi’s hand loosening around his, but Yeosang only grabs on tighter as Mingi’s eyes stay glued to the spot on the ground he’s found.
“I forgot the tickets.”
“Forgot’, like forgot the tickets back at the hotel?” Yeosang clarifies, but Mingi shakes his head no in response.
The tickets that Mingi had been so insistent about receiving as paper tickets rather than electronic tickets because he wanted to frame them when they got back from the show, memorializing the event forever. The paper tickets that he stuck to his fridge, drooling over them for weeks, and in such an “obvious” place that he surely wouldn’t forget them when they left for the weekend. The tickets that Yeosang assumed he wouldn’t need to remind Mingi to grab because Mingi had been looking forward to this night for months.
Yeosang looks around, spotting the will call office across the concrete courtyard, dragging Mingi along behind him. There has to be some way to fix this, right?
Wrong.
After a long conversation with a very nice ticket agent, they learn that due to some backwards-thinking policies from the ticketing company, because the show has already started, the agent cannot change the delivery of Mingi’s tickets now. And with a sold out show, unless Mingi’s paper tickets can magically appear in his pant’s pocket, there’s nothing the ticket company or venue can do to get Mingi and Yeosang inside.
Gloomily walking away from the office, Yeosang racks his brain for some sort of solution, but all that comes to his mind are all the little mistakes he made along the way that further delayed their arrival time. Maybe if Yeosang hadn’t been so focused on going back for his backpack, then Mingi would’ve remembered that he left the tickets. Or maybe if they’d gotten a better night of sleep, then Mingi would’ve remembered sooner that he forgot the tickets and could’ve called ahead to change his tickets. Or maybe if Yeosang hadn’t spilled coffee earlier today they would’ve gotten out just before the traffic got so bad and arrived at the venue in time to change Mingi’s tickets.
Eventually they find themselves at the edges of the concrete, at the threshold before stepping into the grassy lawn that others have grown comfortable in knowing they too cannot get into the show.
Yeosang turns into Mingi who has found another distant spot to lose his focus on, eyes looking more glassy than before, as if tears could fall out at any second. “Mingi, I’m really sorry this happened.”
Mingi blinks repeatedly, finding his attention again and turning to meet Yeosang. “It’s not your fault I left the tickets.”
“I know, but you were really looking forward to tonight. If you at least got to your concert, then that could make up for everything else that’s gone wrong.”
Mingi fingers trace along the edge of Yeosang’s hand before looping back into his palm. “Gone wrong?”
Yeosang rolls his eyes, refusing to believe that this is how Mingi planned their trip to go. “When we took the wrong exit, the hotel not having a room for us, and of course the coffee this morning, just to name a few.”
“Oh, yeah, but we still got here, right? And it’s not like you did something as stupid as forgetting the tickets.” Mingi laughs at his joke, but Yeosang doesn’t. Mingi might use humor to mask his disappointment, but Yeosang won’t play into it.
“Are you really okay about not getting in?”
“No.” Mingi answers through another laugh. “But I can’t change it now. I’m sure I’ll be kicking myself for forgetting the tickets for a while, but - I don’t know - at least I’m here. If I hadn’t even tried to come I know I’d be even more annoyed with myself. And now I know to always choose the electronic option, so a lesson learned, at least.”
Mingi’s other hand finds its way to Yeosang’s, grounding him and pulling him in closer. “And at least I got to do it with you.”
It’s not right. Mingi should get to see the show and enjoy his night, but unless Yeosang discovers some hidden ability to fly, there’s no way he can get them in. If Mingi can’t have his perfect night, then Yeosang will just have to find a way to give him his second best night.
With a renewed purpose, Yeosang sets out for his materials, dragging Mingi along with him. Just along the perimeter of the arena is a long line of food trucks for people passing by or the pre-opening doors crowd. They stop at the pizza truck because it’s the shortest line that offers accompanying beers. Yeosang rounds back to an ice cream seller and his metal box full of frozen treats, picking out two drumsticks to thaw out while the pair work on their dinners.
The grassy knoll they passed before is full of people, but underneath a large oak tree they find a spot just big enough for the two of them and their food. The grass isn’t as damp as Yeosang worried it would be, and after he finishes his beer he’s sure he won’t even notice. They’re only a few bites and sips into their meals before the booming of the sound system returns, reciprocated by the loud cheers and applause of the crowd inside and outside. It’s not perfect, but for Mingi who knows the setlist front to back, he can easily pick out the beginning notes of the first song.
The first song ends and Mingi, wide-eyed and cheering along with the crowd around them like he’s inside, leans over to Yeosang. “Thanks for fixing my mistake.” Mingi says, planting a greasy, cheesy kiss on Yeosang’s cheek, before the next song starts and Mingi loses himself in the music again.
Yeosang would be lying to himself if he believed that Mingi was having more fun outside than inside, but Mingi puts on a compelling act that almost has Yeosang convinced this was the plan all along. Yeosang could continue kicking himself for all the errors he made on the way here, or he could follow along with Mingi. Take his mistakes in stride, choose to learn from them instead of getting himself down about them tonight, and just be thankful that at least he’s here with the only person he’d want to be here with anyway.
Yeosang tries to follow along with the setlist, but he only recognizes the songs because Mingi sings along with them so much. He’s not even sure what the names of most of the songs are until Mingi whispers it over to him. It’s not until about halfway through the setlist that Yeosang finally recognizes a song without Mingi telling him because it’s Mingi’s favorite song. The song that Mingi states is his favorite song every time it comes on when they’re together.
“Have I ever told you that this is my favorite song?” Mingi’s cheeks flushed red from his beer.
Yeosang giggles at the warm breeze of Mingi’s breath against his neck. “Only a few hundred times.”
“Have I ever told you why?” Yeosang is so distracted by Mingi’s gleaming smile he almost forgets to respond, shaking his head no. Yeosang’s not sure if Mingi has intentionally withheld the information or if he just zoned out when Mingi explained it before, but Mingi seems pleased to explain now.
“Because it just sounds like the kind of song you’d make out to in the middle of a crowd. Like when the couple in a movie finally figures out they should be together and they find each other and an airport or big basketball game and it’s just like-” Mingi makes a small, faux explosion with his hands. “It’s magic.”
Yeosang giggles, always enthralled by Mingi’s imagination. “Have you ever tested your theory out before?”
“I haven’t yet.” Mingi’s giggle teasing along the edges of his lips. “But I’d like to find out.”
And it’s then, sitting on a grassy knoll that is sure to stain Yeosang’s jeans with Mingi leaning into him, Yeosang realizes that even if this has been the most unperfect road trip, he’d gladly do again and again if he gets to do it with Mingi every time.