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Baby cuts. Cat scratches. Damage dealt within the epidermis and the upper half of the dermis. Whatever you want to call it.
For a few weeks now, that's exactly what has been slowly but steadily appearing on Mingi’s feet and lower calves. Or re-appearing, rather. A bad habit from the past coming back to haunt him all over again for no apparent reason.
No but seriously, what reason for doing this is there? He’s happy, has a stable part-time job on the side of his studies that are also going great, and an incredible boyfriend with whom he’s just celebrated a 6-month anniversary. No real issues in his life as far as he can see.
Sure, sometimes he gets caught up in a fight with his friends or parents, or even with Yunho, or maybe some of his insecurities hit extra strong on some days. But all of that is normal, right? Just some passing obstacles that get resolved in a few days tops.
So why is he here, at 3 am, staring at the husk of a person in the mirror? Why is his head so empty yet incomprehensibly full at the same time? Why are his hands all fidgety, getting ready to strike any moment?
Truth be told, he has no clue.
This was supposed to be a lovely weekend for him. He got off work early on Friday, securing enough time to pack his stuff at his dorm before heading to Yunho's apartment for a sleepover. He's been trying to convince Mingi to move in with him after their anniversary, saying how it would be both cheaper and closer to his university. Both of those arguments are true, and yet he remains stubborn, wanting to keep his independence just a bit longer.
Alas, Yunho has no choice but to respect his decision and settle for weekend sleepovers in the meantime.
And even those are great! The two of them get to talk for hours and play games, cook dinner together or order in and watch TV... Mainly, though, they get to cuddle and snuggle to their hearts' content (and maybe even do a bit more than that, if the opportunity and want arises).
That's also one of the main reasons for his hesitance over this whole... relapse thing.
Because of Yunho and his affectionate nature towards him, hiding the traces of his renewed habits became much more difficult. He couldn't cut where he used to before, all of those areas feeling way too exposed now.
And so, he settled on the bottom of his legs. Anything a pair of longer socks could easily hide without too much questioning from his boyfriend. Let's just say his feet are cold all the time now, even though summer's just barely starting to end.
Is it satisfying to harm there? No, not at all. The area is too small and angular, and the pain-to-mark ratio is nowhere near optimal. Everything feels too bony and stings more than other places, and all he gets from it are the faintest of scratches.
But anything to at least partially quell the urge, right?
Well, not exactly.
If the razor blade hidden within the confines of his duffel bag was any proof, his methods weren't exactly effective.
He’s never used an actual razor blade before, never even planned on trying it since he knew about the dangers of using it and how everything could get out of hand within seconds. Sure, the scissors and other sharp objects he’s used until now weren't exactly perfect either, but they didn't put him at as much of a risk of going to the ER.
...So why did he buy the blade then?
Well, it was pretty cheap, first of all. He could just buy it, think about using it, and then throw it out without feeling too guilty about it, right? Not to mention how it helped him feel more valid about harming, even if he hasn't used it yet. Self-harm is always depicted as razor blades on wrists, so even just owning one somehow helped him feel a bit more valid amidst the disappointing scratches on his leg.
It's been a week since he’d bought said blade (or 5 blades rather, as they came in a pack - what a steal!). During that week, not much has happened to it. Right after he paid and got his receipt, he tossed the paper into a nearby trash can and stashed the pack of blades into his wallet. And there they were even later tonight, as he quietly crept to his bag to retrieve them, careful not to wake Yunho up.
But let's rewind back a bit. Back to where today's misfortune started.
Just like with everything else lately, he doesn't know why the urge to indulge washed over him specifically tonight. He and Yunho have spent such a fun evening together, lounging around and enjoying each other in whatever way felt right.
And yet, the moment the lights were turned off and his boyfriend spooned him from behind, holding him close while his breathing slowly evened out, it was as if something had shifted in the air. An overwhelming sense of emptiness washed over Mingi, making him feel both completely dull and overstimulated. Yunho's arms around him felt both like an anchor and a vice, the opposing feelings adding even more to the already rising chaos in his mind. He was suddenly overly aware of every part of his body, as if his own skin was calling out to him.
He didn't want to.
He knew he had to.
As gently and quietly as he could, he unwrapped himself from Yunho's embrace and got up. Yunho let out a soft sigh at the loss of contact, and Mingi had to admit, he already mourned it too.
Sneaking into the bathroom, he closed the door before turning on the lights. Avoiding the reflection in the mirror, he began searching through the cabinet under the sink. He didn't want to see himself right now. If anything, it would just add to the confusing conflict raging within him, and he really didn't need that.
Rummaging through each shelf one more time, he let out a frustrated huff. There was nothing he could use. Well, save for the expensive-looking razor Yunho owned, but he really didn't have the patience or coherency to take apart his boyfriend's belongings.
It's time, then.
The return to the bedroom was a bit stressful, as he couldn't decide between searching through his duffel bag there or bringing it with him to the bathroom. Both options seemed too noisy right now, causing him to awkwardly loom over the bag for a few moments, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.
In the end, Mingi decided to just risk it, crouching down to begin unzipping the top. Strangely enough, he kind of hoped Yunho would hear it and wake up. Maybe the shock of being caught would stop him for the time being and he could just go back to bed.
To both his luck and dismay, Yunho didn't wake up, his biggest reaction being the slightest stir of the sheets.
With his wallet in hand, Mingi walked back to the bathroom, his steps a bit bolder this time. Now that he knew Yunho wouldn't wake up so easily, he didn't pay as much mind to the noise he was making.
In a weird way, he was upset. Upset Yunho didn't wake up. Upset Yunho didn't magically realize what his new obsession with socks could possibly mean. Upset he wasn't there to stop him right now.
But along with the upset came a strange feeling of calm. Joy, even.
Yunho doesn't know. Nobody has any idea Mingi's doing this right now. Nobody cares enough to find out anyway. He’s free to reign over his body as he pleases, especially if it will finally shut down the confusing mess of emotions boiling within him.
It will, right?
It's 3 am. Mingi's staying over at Yunho's, who’s currently sleeping in the bedroom next-door. He finally gathers enough courage to look at himself in the mirror, but it's rather disappointing. The shell standing in front of him doesn't bring up any emotions anymore. It doesn't even look like him, he thinks. Maybe this isn't him, actually. That's what he likes to tell himself whenever the moment is over, that this isn't actually the real him harming himself. This is someone else taking hold of him and his upcoming actions.
He sits down on the cold bathroom floor, a razor blade in hand. When did he unpack them? The small paper packaging and 4 other blades are lying right next to him. Huh. Guess he did just now.
He doesn't bother taking off the socks. A precious thing like this shouldn't be used in such a shitty spot anyways.
Then again, he also doesn't exactly want to die right now, so the wrists are off-limits. Sure, he wants to feel more valid and that place is the most stereotypical for cutting, but he’s already holding the blade he thought he’d never dare use, so that's enough "progress" for now.
Now that he thinks about it, the thighs sound pretty scary too. He’s always heard of some major arteries being located in the thigh. Perhaps he shouldn't risk it there then. Not yet, at least.
And so, like a coward, he moves back to his lower leg.
To Mingi's defense, he does go considerably higher than usual! He picks a nice spot that's vaguely in the middle of the side of his leg, where his shins and calves would meet.
Deep breaths. You can do this, Mingi. Just brace yourself and-
...
...
Oh fuck.
No, no, no nonono-
He knew the risks, he knew he should watch out for the pressure when using a razor blade for the first time since it's so much sharper than any pair of scissors he owns, but somehow even the lessened pressure he put was too much.
Within seconds, blood started rushing to the surface. Mingi dropped the blade, making it fly in a random direction as his hands trembled.
His eyes welled with tears as, despite the blood, he could see a gash way deeper than any cut he’d ever made until now; he could literally see two parts of his skin split-
He’s gonna throw up. Or faint. Or both. Oh fuck.
The first drops of blood fell onto the tiles just as his own tears pooled over. His chest heaved with labored breaths. Mingi didn't know what to do.
Should he go to the ER? Will it stop on its own? Should he wake Yunho up? Oh god, he should probably wake Yunho up, shouldn't he.
Wiping his tear-stained face as best as he could with his shirt, he crawled over to the bathroom door. He was too scared to walk, afraid he’d faint if he stood up so suddenly.
As he sat by the door, another sob wracked through him. He couldn't calm down, too scared of what might happen if he didn't take care of the gash in time. And yet, he couldn't help but fear what might happen if he woke Yunho up. Now that he thinks about it, maybe it will just stop on its own and he can hide it for the rest of the weekend and then he’ll just make up a story about how he got into an accident at work and-
One look at the trail of blood behind him was enough to get his hands on the door handle, pulling the door open on his second try. The handle flew back up with a loud bang as Mingi dropped back down, but the door was open at last. He pulled it fully open from where he sat, taking a few shallow breaths once he did so.
"...Mingi?"
Now. Now he wakes up. Not at any point before Mingi could have done this. Now.
In the back of Mingi's mind, a strange feeling of anger bubbled up. Somehow, he wanted to blame Yunho for not getting to him sooner. But the second he realized what his brain was trying to do, he felt another pang of nausea hit him.
Yunho was not to blame in the slightest. This was all Mingi's fault. He started this, he went through with it, and now he’s crawling back to Yunho for help. Don't even try to put any blame on him, no matter how much easier it would make this whole thing to stomach.
"Mingi, are you okay?"
Right, Yunho was awake. The shuffling of the sheets coming from the bedroom confirmed as much.
Mingi tried to call out to him but choked on another sob instead.
All of his fear of being seriously hurt and needing help immediately shifted, transforming into the most heart-wrenching wave of guilt imaginable. Just what has he done? Why is he burdening someone else with this? Is he really going to make Yunho see this?
His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the first footstep. All the raging panic hit Mingi anew, making him speak before he could think.
"W-wait!" Mingi cried, an unknown feeling of desperation clutching his chest. "Please, please don't come here, please."
To his surprise, the footsteps actually stopped.
"...I'm waiting, but please tell me what's going on," Yunho replied with obvious unease.
Well, uh. He hasn't exactly thought this far, has he?
"O-okay, I, well, I," Mingi stumbled over his words, trying to work through the mush of his brain to come up with anything even barely comprehensible. "I did something really bad and I think I need your help but you have to promise not to be mad. I don't know what to do but please, don't be upset."
Selfish. That's what Mingi was. Even amongst all this chaos and pain he was about to drag Yunho into, all he could think about was saving his own face and evading consequences.
"Mingi, I'm sorry but I'm coming in," Yunho suddenly announced, and the footsteps resumed. "I need to see if you're okay, I promise I won't be mad."
There was no escaping it now. Mingi could only brace himself for the worst, whatever that would entail.
Two feet stood before his hunched-over form. Mingi didn't dare look up, didn't dare see what Yunho was feeling.
As carefully as he could, Yunho stepped around Mingi and further into the bathroom. Mingi heard the scraping of metal across tiles before the cabinet doors opened. A towel, a first aid kit, and a small, colorful box appeared before him, along with his boyfriend in his cozy pajamas. Still, Mingi didn't dare look up.
Wordlessly, Yunho propped his injured leg up as gently as he could, as if he was handling the finest china in the world. Placing the dark grey towel under it, blood immediately rolled down and seeped into the material.
"Okay, this might seem a bit weird, but just- I'm not an expert or anything, far from it, really, but-"
As Yunho rambled nervously, Mingi watched him tear open a pack of pads. Ever since their sleepovers became a more regular thing, Yunho had made sure to always keep some in his apartment in case of an emergency. Never had he thought he'd use them in this type of emergency, though.
Mingi watched in confusion as he pulled out one of the pads, opening it and double-checking which side was sticky and which was dry. Unable to hide his worried grimace as he got closer to the wound, Yunho pressed the cotton pad against it.
"I- I probably have something better in the first aid kit to stop the bleeding, but while I look through it, just hold that down to the cut, okay?"
Mingi nodded weakly, deciding not to ask any questions and just let his boyfriend try to fix him. Not that he could say much anyway, not with the way his throat had dried and closed up from all the anxiety.
He silently kept watch as Yunho fumbled through the red bag, noticing the slight tremors in his hands. When he looked at his face, however, it was completely neutral.
Ah, so he was trying to stay calm to not worry Mingi any further, but on the inside, he was freaking out just as much as him, if not more. Great. Mingi didn't think he could feel more guilt than he already had, but guess not.
"I'm sorry it's taking so long," Yunho spoke up again. "Yeosang would get injured all the time before he moved out - you know how clumsy he can get - and I, uh, haven't exactly taken the time to re-organize everything. Sorry."
Mingi's lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, along with a hushed "It's okay, babe".
Yunho's eyes shot up at his words, mirroring Mingi's soft smile with his own. Pausing his search for just a second, Yunho leaned over and planted a quick, reassuring kiss on his forehead. "You're right. I'll take good care of you, don't worry. After the first accident Yeosang had here, I bought some steri-strips... They should still be around here somewhere, but we threw the original packaging away, so they're just a bit hard to find."
Mingi hummed in understanding, hoping he could ease at least some of Yunho's worries by showing him he was doing alright.
Somehow, the moment Yunho appeared in the doorway, all of Mingi's previous panic stopped. It was as if through his presence, the jumbled mess of worries surrounding Mingi had split into two. Yunho had graciously shouldered the worries about his physical state, while he focused on keeping Yunho's emotional well-being in check. All of the fear about his reaction to this situation as a whole was still there, of course, but for the time being, Mingi had managed to shove them to the back of his mind. It was something to worry about later, when the two of them could calm down and properly talk to each other.
For now, all Mingi had to do was just worry about Yunho while he worried about him.
"Finally!" Yunho sighed in relief, fishing out two small packs of steri-strips. "Okay. Let's do this, then."
But as he shuffled closer to Mingi's leg again, he paused.
"Wait, I'm sorry for assuming," he began while opening the first set, "but you don't want to go to the hospital, right? They'd obviously do a much better job than me, but since you said you needed my help, I just, I guessed that- you know. Should we go to the hospital instead?"
Mingi immediately shook his head no, making Yunho smile faintly, glad to have read him right and that he wasn't wasting time trying to play hero.
Mingi was thankful he didn't insist on taking him to the hospital. He knew it would probably be for the best, but right now, in his state, he couldn't even fathom going. He was terrified just crawling to the door to beg for Yunho's help, let alone driving to the opposite part of town to have complete strangers examine him.
"Right then," Yunho sighed, mentally steeling himself for the next step. "Can you feel your leg fine? Feeling faint or anything?"
Mingi shook his head, slowly easing the pressure he held on the cut. "I'm okay, I think. Just a little shaken up still."
Yunho nodded thoughtfully, helping him unstick the bloody pad from his hand. Luckily, it seemed that most of the bleeding had stopped, at least for now. "It's okay, I'm a bit out of it too."
"Sorry for making you do this," Mingi whispered sincerely, but Yunho quickly stopped him again.
"Don't be sorry, love. I know you didn't mean to do this. You wouldn't have called for me like that if things went down the way you wanted them to."
Mingi couldn't bring himself to say anything after that, feeling his throat tighten as a fresh wave of tears rushed to his eyes.
He averted his gaze as Yunho began cleaning the area as gently as he could before placing the strips down, helping hold the wound shut. Four strips helped the cut close up, and then two were laid on top of them to help everything stay put. Despite no professional medical training, Mingi swears his boyfriend could do anything like an expert first-try. Well, considering him saying something about treating Yeosang's injuries, he might have actually trained a bit already. Either way, Mingi could feel his nerves easing a considerable bit at the sight of the gash finally closed-up.
"There we go," Yunho said contently, giving his other leg a gentle pat. "Just stay put a little longer, okay? I'm gonna clean up a bit in here."
Oh, that's right.
Mingi was so out of it that he completely forgot about the blades scattered around, the blood dripping across the floor, the towel, pads, first aid kit, everything.
Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on his breathing. It has mostly returned to normal, but he could still feel a lot of tightness in his chest from the lingering anxiety.
"Hey now, don't go falling asleep on me, okay?" He heard Yunho calling out to him a few meters away, making Mingi peek at him with one eye.
Yunho was kneeling by the sink, scrubbing at the dirty tiles. When he noticed Mingi looking at him, he flashed him a quick, comforting smile.
"'m not falling asleep," Mingi protested, "I'm just resting a bit, sorry."
"It's okay, I was just a little worried."
Yeah. That's definitely one way to put how Yunho was likely feeling right now.
But that could be dwelled on and discussed later. For now, all Mingi had to do was sit still, breathe deep, and stay strong.
...
"You still with me, princess?"
Mingi opened his eyes again, this time to find Yunho sitting in front of him. He doesn't know how much time had passed, too focused on pacing his breaths, saying the alphabet forwards and backwards, thinking about his favorite TV show moments - anything to calm down, really.
When he saw Mingi was still fully awake, Yunho pulled out a gauze bandage. "We should be fine with just the steri-strips, but let me wrap this up for you to be one hundred percent safe, okay?"
Mingi let him do as he pleased, trusting his judgment better than his own at the moment. As Yunho bandaged his leg, Mingi looked around the room, noticing everything was back the way it was before he’d entered.
"I put the, uh, the blades away for now," Yunho continued, a nervous edge to his tone. "I didn't want to just throw them away without permission but leaving them out here in the open didn't seem like a great idea either. Sorry if it seems distrustful, it's just... you know."
"You're scared I might do it again," Mingi finished for him, making him nod hesitantly. "It's okay, I get it."
It was honestly surprising how easy it was to talk to Yunho about this. Maybe it's because he already saw the worst of it, maybe it was the way he took such gentle care of Mingi, or maybe it was just his entire attitude about this so far. Caring, non-judgemental, open to listen.
"Alright then, I think we're done here. Let's get you to bed, shall we?"
Before Mingi could respond, he was being picked up by a pair of strong, warm hands. He wanted to object for a split second, but on second thought, maybe it was in his best interest not to move too much right now.
A few moments later, he was laid back down on the bed, a soft kiss pressed to his temple before he was shrouded in his blanket. With a whispered promise of returning again, Yunho rushed back to turn off the lights and close the door, enveloping the two of them in darkness. Mingi waited a second, two, and then the bed dipped behind him with a quiet creak.
"Come here." Yunho's arms wrapped around his waist from behind again, holding him closer than before. "Is this okay? Should I give you space?"
"It's fine, Yu."
His chest shook with a small chuckle. "Oh come on, don't call me that right now." Yunho somehow snuggled up even closer to him, pressing his face into Mingi's neck. "I'm already emotional enough as is."
A beat or two of silence passed between the two of them before Yunho spoke up again.
"Was this," he paused, hesitating, "was this the first time you did something like this, or are there... more?"
Mingi sighed. "Well, this was the first time I've messed up like this and used an actual razor blade, but in general? There's been a few instances, yeah. Most of them happened years ago, but lately, it started up again."
Yunho stayed quiet this time. As the silence stretched on, Mingi began to grow worried. Is this the moment where he gets mad at him?
A sniffle broke through the air, quickly followed by another. The hold around Mingi's waist tightened.
"It's the socks, isn't it?" Yunho barely choked out, voice trembling.
Never has Mingi felt so guilty in his life before.
"I thought it was weird, I wanted to ask you about it, I really did," Yunho sobbed, burying his wet face further into his shirt. "I didn't want to make you feel bad about it if it was genuinely just something you preferred, so I held back, but it worried me anyway. I should have asked so much sooner."
"Yu..." Mingi tried to turn around in his embrace, but Yunho stopped him, not letting him see his tearful eyes. "Honey, it's not your fault in the slightest, please don't beat yourself up about it."
"But I should have-"
"Just listen to the same advice you gave me, hm? You never wanted this to happen, you wouldn't be so torn up about it otherwise. It's really not your fault."
With what Mingi assumed to be a watery hum of agreement, Yunho nodded into his back.
He tried to turn around again, and this time, Yunho finally let him. He watched as Yunho's silhouette sat up, reaching around for the tissue box on the nightstand before wiping his tears and blowing his nose.
"I'm sorry," Yunho muttered, crumpling the tissue and putting it away, "you're the one hurting and I'm making it all about myself."
Mingi tutted softly as he laid back down, shuffling closer to Yunho to drape himself over his broad chest. "That's not true, Yu. I know this is really hard on you as well, you have all the right to be upset. Please don't hide it just because I'm also in pain."
"Okay," he accepted, taking a deep breath to calm himself.
The room stayed quiet for another few minutes, save for the faint rustling of the sheets as Mingi intertwined one of his hands with Yunho's.
"If it's okay," Yunho croaked in a careful, ginger tone, "could we maybe talk more about this tomorrow? I feel like I have over a million questions right now, but I don't want to overwhelm you when you should be resting."
Mingi let out a small, sleepy chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds good. I think I'll also feel a bit better if we talk about this some more tomorrow. It's a bit embarrassing even now when I know that you know, but I trust you enough to share this part of me, I think."
Yunho leaned down to kiss the top of his head, making him smile. "Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me. And please, never feel embarrassed about this. Just because this stuff is not talked about enough doesn't mean your feelings are wrong or not valid. We'll figure this out together, I promise. No matter what it takes."
"Okay. I look forward to tomorrow, then," Mingi said, pressing a quick peck to Yunho's sternum before lying down again. "Goodnight, Yu."
"Goodnight, love."