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March 5, 2025, Wednesday, was supposed to be nothing.
Kim Mingyu had woken up late that day, tripped over a sneaker in their messy dorm room, and smirked when Wonwoo, who was already awake, phone in hand, grumbled, “You’re a hazard,” without looking up.
He was in the kitchen, toast blackening, when his phone pinged.
It was their group chat. He swiped it open, expecting Hoshi’s nonsense, but Vernon’s message stopped him dead: a screenshot.
SEVENTEEN’s Wonwoo to Enlist April 3, Mandatory Service Confirmed.
Vernon’s text reads below after: “Hyung, what’s this??”
Before he could even digest what he has read, a message from Minghao popped up shortly, “You didn’t say anything to him?”
Seokmin was now starting to ring his phone. He was also sure it was Seungcheol spamming his inbox.
He scrolled up and read the article.
Again.
He read it over and over hoping the words, the name, on the text would magically change.
Mingyu’s stomach dropped when it started to sink in.
April 3.
Three days before his birthday.
The knife clattered to the counter, his pulse too loud in his ears.
Wonwoo hadn’t said a thing to him.
He stormed back to their room, toast forgotten.
Wonwoo was still there, lounging on his bed, legs crossed, scrolling like the world wasn’t splitting open. He glanced up as Mingyu burst in, eyebrows lifting at the heat in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asked calmly.
Way too calm for the younger’s liking.
Mingyu shoved his phone forward, hands shaking. “This. Explain.”
Wonwoo’s gaze flicked to the screen, then back. His jaw tightened, just a fraction. “The enlistment.”
“April 3,” Mingyu said, voice cracking hard.
“You’re leaving April 3, and I’m hearing it from Vernon? Not you?”
Wonwoo sat up, tossing his phone aside with that careful move he always did. “I was gonna tell you tonight. They set it two days ago. Didn’t expect it would leak this fast.”
“Leak?” Mingyu’s laugh was rough, edged with something breaking. “It’s a damn announcement! Everyone knows except me, and I’m—“ he stopped, chest heaving. “I’m your roommate, Wonwoo. I live here. With you. And you didn’t think about mentioning it to me?”
Wonwoo flinched, and the younger hated that he noticed it. Hated that he felt guilty over this when he was the one supposed to be mad.
And why the fuck was so he mad about this, anyways?
Wonwoo swung his legs over, facing Mingyu, hands gripping the edge of his bed. “It’s a big deal. I just didn’t want to dump it on you.”
“Dump it on me?” Mingyu stepped closer, voice climbing. “We share this room! I trip over your crap every day, and you couldn’t tell me you’re leaving? That I’ll be here alone on the 6th?”
“I didn’t know how,” Wonwoo shot back, standing now. “I found out just recently, Gyu, and I’ve been stuck in my head since. I didn’t want you pissed, or wrecked, like this.”
“Then why am I both now? ” Mingyu yelled, tears burning his eyes. “April 3! You’ll be gone, and I’ll be…what? What, hyung? Blowing out candles without you? I didn’t even get a heads-up. Do you know how is that making me feel?”
Wonwoo’s face twitched, eyes narrowing. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t pick the date. I didn’t pick any of it! I was gonna tell you, I swear.”
“When?” Mingyu demanded. “After I saw it online? After the whole world knew?”
“Tonight!” Wonwoo said, stepping into the gap between their beds, voice dropping but shaking. “I was waiting for the right second, okay? I didn’t want you looking at me like I’m already out the door.”
Mingyu’s breath caught, tears spilling now. Fuck. He didn’t want to act like this, but god was he frustrated. “But you will be. Thirty days. That’s it. And I’m supposed to just deal?”
Wonwoo grabbed his arm, fingers digging in. “I’ll be here until then. Every day. I’m not going yet.”
“Thirty days isn’t enough,” Mingyu’s voice broke, raw and loud.
“Then I’ll make it count,” Wonwoo said. “I’ll call you every chance I get. Promise.”
“You’re awful at calling,” Mingyu muttered, swiping at his face, but he didn’t pull away.
“I’ll figure it out,” Wonwoo said, stepping closer. “I’ll call, I’ll text. Hell, I’ll send you letters. Okay?”
“More,” Mingyu said, voice thick. “Promise me something else.”
Wonwoo blinked, then nodded. “I’ll come back the same. No weird military brainwash. Promise.”
“And?” Mingyu pressed, grabbing Wonwoo’s hand now, holding tight.
“I’ll save every story,” Wonwoo said, voice softening. “Everything that happens there, I’ll tell you. Swear it.”
“All the bad and good,” the older mumbled.
“All the bad and good,” Wonwoo nodded, eyes softening.
Mingyu’s throat burned. “And my birthday. Before you go. Give me something.”
“April 2,” Wonwoo said quick. “All day, just us. I’ll cook, I’ll drag you out. Whatever you want. Promise.”
“You can’t cook,” Mingyu said, a shaky laugh slipping out.
“I’ll try,” Wonwoo shot back, a small grin breaking through. “For you.”
“Keep going,” Mingyu said, quieter now, tears still falling. “Promise you’ll come back here. To me.”
Wonwoo’s grip tightened, eyes locked on his. “First stop when I’m out. This room. You. I’ll go straight ahead towards you. I promise.”
“And don’t shut me out,” Mingyu said, voice barely there. “Not again. Tell me everything.”
“Everything,” Wonwoo agreed, low and sure. “No secrets.”
Mingyu nodded, clutching Wonwoo’s hand like it could stop the clock. “What about after? Next birthday?”
“I’ll be there,” Wonwoo said, no hesitation.
“April 6, 2027. I’ll make it up double.”
“Thirty days,” Mingyu whispered, voice wrecked. “That’s all I get?”
“Thirty days here,” Wonwoo said, pulling him in, their shoulders brushing. “Then I’m still yours, just farther. I’m not letting go.”
Mingyu’s chest shuddered, but he nodded, leaning into Wonwoo’s space. “You better not.”
“I won’t,” Wonwoo said, voice reassuring.
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Seal it with a kiss then, hyung.”
The older followed not even a heartbeat later.