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Yunho was kind, caring, funny, handsome. He was perfect. But he didn’t understand.
To be fair to him, no one did. No one understood the paralysing fear that took over Mingi when a camera was pointed towards him. When he saw a photo of himself. When he heard his voice played back. It made him nauseous, panic swirling inside him.
It could be difficult living life afraid of literally every mobile phone vaguely pointed in his direction. He could just about manage that, reassure himself that the random person he walked past earlier was on a phone call and not using the camera in any way. There would always be a little voice that doubted it, convinced him it was an elaborate scheme, that photos were taken in that less-than-2-seconds interaction and would be plastered everywhere. But he could calm himself down from that.
It was different when it was intentional, and he knew it was intentional. They thought they were helping. They always did.
His home was meant to be a safe zone – he never had to panic walking around corners, never flinched when a phone was pulled out. Yunho accepted him sticking small bits of paper over both of their laptop cameras, because it made him feel safer.
They’d been in the living room playing games – him, Yunho, Wooyoung and San. They were having fun, laughing and joking around. When Yunho hit Wooyoung with a red shell in Mario kart, he got a sharp kick in return, and that distraction let Mingi swoop in to take 1st place. He grinned at his friends and Wooyoung had dropped his controller to put his arms around their necks and pull them in for a group hug.
Mingi felt the camera flash more than he saw it. It was like being doused with a bucket of ice water and he froze.
He couldn’t hear, vision going fuzzy as panic swirled inside him. He wanted to be sick, as if he could force the panic out that way. He couldn’t pay attention to what was going on around him even if he tried. His brain had gone hay-wire catastrophising.
Stupid pictures of him, people pointing and laughing, mocking. Wooyoung and San snarling at him. Yunho laughing at him. They tricked him. They wanted to make him look like a fool. They wanted to capture it, undeniable proof of it.
Mingi couldn’t hear anything over his own blood rushing in his ears. He vaguely felt himself be pulled upwards and taken to his and Yunho’s bedroom. A blanket was draped over his shoulders, plush toy pushed into his hands. He gripped it harshly, rubbing the soft material with his thumb in an unconscious self-soothing attempt. Yunho gave him room, sitting on the floor by his legs and keeping his eyes on him – watching for any signs of life. He was the expert in dealing with a Mingi panic attack.
When Mingi’s breathing got heavier, sounding like a struggle with every forced exhale, Yunho ran to the bathroom to grab a small bucket and came back just in time. Mingi grabbed it, dropping the soft toy to the floor as he emptied pure bile into it. Sour, acidic, bile. He took a couple of deep breaths, spitting out excess saliva when it blocked his airway.
His vision started to focus again, locking onto his shaking fingers that rattled the bucket with every movement. He spat once more before moving the bucket away. Yunho was ready to take it away from him, replacing it with a cold bottle of water, cap off and straw inside it.
The way Yunho took care of him made him feel like a child sometimes, but he’d accepted that he needed that care sometimes (thanks to many hours with a therapist).
As he drank the water, his breathing steadied. When Yunho deemed him stable enough that he wouldn’t die unsupervised, he moved the bucket into the bathroom sink, shallowly filling it with water. Mingi stayed put until he’d finished half the water bottle and couldn’t stomach anymore, moving it to the floor.
“You back with me?” Yunho asked as he came back with a wet washcloth. Mingi nodded slowly, but his eyes remained trained on the floor. Yunho kneeled in front of him, reaching forwards to dab the washcloth onto Mingi’s forehead. The younger closed his eyes, tilting his chin up slightly to make the job easier. Yunho moved onto his arms, pulling one out of the blanket, gently dragging the washcloth up and down the inside of his forearm before moving onto the second one.
Mingi’s therapist had told him that when he was spiralling, lots of things could help ground him to pull him out of his panicked state. One thing had been textures, like the soft toy that laid forgotten on the floor, and another had been temperatures. The cool cloth helped bring him back to his body, out of the depths of his own mind.
“Baby, it’s okay, we’ll get through this, you can get over this-“
“Stop!” Mingi yelled back, voice cracking as he let out a sob. “Stop trying to fix me! I am the way I am, and I shouldn’t need to change!”
“I’m just trying to help-“
“Then listen to me,” Mingi pleaded, tears pouring down his face. He was exhausted, sick and tired of trying to change and being forced into anxiety-inducing situations. He took a deep breath before speaking, “I don’t want to.”
Yunho frowned at him, head tilting to the side in his puppy-ish way that usually melted his heart. Mingi looked away, fists clenched at his side.
“Why?”
“Why does it matter? So what if I don’t like photos or being on camera? Why is it so important to you?”
“I just wanna help you get better-“
“No!” Mingi yelled. He turned and let out a broken laugh, wiping away the fresh set of tears. “You want to help me be normal. Not better.”
Yunho looked down, shoulders slumped. Mingi was right - but he’d always figured that if he could help his friend-turned-boyfriend get over his phobia of being on camera, it would help. Make him feel better, more confident, help him see himself the way Yunho did.
“I’m okay with myself. You know that,” Mingi walked over, sitting beside Yunho on the bed and putting his hand over the other’s. Yunho twisted his wrist so they could interlock fingers, looking up to meet Mingi’s gaze. “Remember how anxious I used to be-“ Yunho went to speak but Mingi cut him off with a wet laugh, “How anxious I used to be, all the time?”
Yunho nods to the best of his ability, forehead knocking Mingi’s as he does. The latter reaches with his freehand to hold the back of Yunho’s neck, pulling him closer and keeping their foreheads pressed together.
“I’m so much happier now. I’m much better with myself, my appearance. I manage my anxiety better thanks to my meds and therapy. I am better Yun.” He lets go of Yunho’s nape and leans backwards with a soft sigh. “But when you keep talking about fixing me, it just makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you.” His voice trails off as he speaks, hands shaking in Yunho’s hold.
“Mingi, baby, I never meant it to-“
“I know you didn’t,” Mingi cuts him off with a small smile. “I know that’s not what you think and that’s just how I perceive it - trust me, Dr Kim keeps drilling that into me. I’m working on it, but it’s still my first thought.” Yunho feels his heart fracture, the guilt of realising that’s what Mingi had been hearing whenever he thought he was helping. Mingi lets go of his hands and lies back on the bed with a soft sigh.
“One day, I’ll probably feel stupid for being so scared about it. Or maybe I’ll never get over it. I don’t care anymore,” Mingi crossed his hands over his chest, heartbeat drumming through his hands. “I’m okay with it. I’m okay with me.”
Yunho lays next to him on his side, hand reaching to join Mingi’s. The youngest eyes flick towards him and Yunho smiles.
“You’re perfect.” He leans to leave a soft kiss on his temple, tucking some of Mingi’s hair behind his ear. “Thank you for explaining it to me.”
“I know you complain about having no photos of me, of us, but if that’s gonna be a problem - nows the time to say something.” Mingi says seriously, voice steady.
“I would destroy every single camera in the world to make you more comfortable.” Yunho responds back, just as serious. “Who needs wedding photos when I’ll be waking up next to you every morning?” He grins and Mingi laughs, shoving at his shoulder.
“Gay.”
“You’re stuck with me forever Mingki~” Yunho grins and lays across him like a dead weight, trapping him.
Mingi pretends to struggle for a moment before wrapping his arms around his back and nuzzling into Yunho’s neck. He presses a kiss there with a smile on his face.
“Forever.”