Work Text:
Now, after two years of dating, Mingi realized three days of silence could make the comfort of warm hands, tight hugs and kisses of reassurance feel a million miles away.
Mingi stood outside Yunho's door everyday, calling his phone and hoping that Yunho would just answer his call just this one time. The call will ring, which means Yunho's phone was working perfectly. He needed to hear him, just for one second. But the call always went to voicemail and Mingi felt like his entire world was slipping through his fingers.
On the fourth day, Mingi didn't find Yunho in his dorm or in the hallways. He found him in the library.
Not at their old table, but in the deepest, darkest corner of the periodical section, a place not even Mingi had ever hid in. He had rushed in frantically, leaving in the middle of his own class when he got a message from Seonghwa telling him that he saw a glimpse of Yunho in the library. When Mingi saw Yunho, he felt as if his world wasn't only slipping through his fingers but it was literally disappearing into thin air.
Yunho sat on the floor, back against a shelf of bound newspapers from the 1990s. He wasn’t studying. He wasn’t scrolling his phone. He was just sitting there, staring at the wall opposite, his phone dark and discarded beside him. He looked… smaller. The vibrant energy that usually seemed to take up extra space around him had vanished. His usually impeccable posture was gone, collapsed in on itself. He was wearing the same hoodie he’d had on almost four days ago, and his hair was a flat, damp mess. The sight was more unnerving than any breakdown.
“Yunho.”
The name left Mingi’s lips as a breath, not a shout. Yunho didn’t startle. He just blinked slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep, and turned his head. The sight of his face hit Mingi like a punch. He looked… emptied out. The vibrant gold was gone from his eyes, replaced by a flat, dull fatigue. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath them. This wasn’t his Yunho. This was a ghost of him.
For a long second, they just stared at each other. Mingi saw the moment Yunho’s brain registered him, saw the shame flood his features before the blank mask slammed back down.
“Mingi”
Yunho said the name, a rough scrape of sound. No smile. No warmth.
Mingi walked over and slid down the wall to sit beside him, not touching but close enough that Yunho could feel his body heat. The coolness of the floor seeped through his jeans.
“You said you were studying,” He began. He saw the way Yunho's fist clenched and unclenched before the older looked away from Mingi.
“I lied”, Yunho said, blunt and quiet. “I was studying…. Until I wasn't….”
A heavy silence fell between them.
Then Yunho turned to Mingi, and Mingi, now close to his face, could see just how exhausted and tired Yunho was. “You shouldn’t be here, Mingi. Your art history class started an hour ago….”
Mingi felt like the air in his lungs was punched out of him. He just stared at Yunho, who didn't look at him anymore and just looked straight ahead. “You say I shouldn't be here….”. Mingi's own voice was low, even soft at first but it trembled with a cocktail of desperation, anger and sheer terror.
“Then where the hell else would I be, if not here with you?”
Yunho didn't say anything. Or more like he didn't know what to say. He just looked down at his hands, clenched in his lap. A fine tremor ran through them.
“Something happened. I know it. Talk to me. Tell me what happened. Please, my love….”, the endearment slipped through Mingi's lips out of habit. But it didn't make Mingi flinch. Because he meant it. He meant it every single time he uttered the endearment.
“You vanished, my love. For three days. Do you have any idea what that did to me and everyone around you?”. Mingi was calm. His voice was calm. And it was even surprising to himself. He thought he'd crumble when he saw Yunho. He thought he'd be screaming and yelling at Yunho for ghosting everyone. But now, he was calm and maybe that was for the best.
“Look at me. Just look at me.”
Slowly, Yunho’s gaze lifted. The emptiness in it was worse than anger. Mingi's hand reached out, gently tucking Yunho's hair, that had been growing over the summer, behind his ear. He looked straight into Yunho's eyes, doing nothing but just waiting. Yunho’s breath hitched, a ragged, awful sound. And then the dam broke.
Yunho launched himself at Mingi, not in passion but in sheer, desperate need. He wrapped his arms around Mingi’s neck, burying his face in the hollow of his shoulder, and broke. It wasn’t a graceful collapse. It was ugly and gut-wrenching. The sobs were choked, silent with Yunho's shoulders shaking violently.
Mingi was frozen for a heartbeat, rigid with shock. Then, as Yunho’s tears soaked through his shirt, a great, shuddering breath escaped him, and his arms came up, slowly at first, then crushing Yunho to him. His own composure shattered. He didn’t cry, but a broken, wounded sound tore from his throat as he pressed his face into Yunho’s hair. He held on as if Yunho were the only solid thing in a dissolving world.
They stayed like that for what felt like a lifetime and Mingi just held onto Yunho. After a while, Yunho lifted his head from Mingi's shoulder and picked up his phone lying between them. He thumbed it on and handed it to Mingi without looking. The screen showed a text thread within Yunho's family group.
Group: Jeong Family 🏡
[3 days ago]
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️: Hey, where is everyone? Has anyone heard from Eomma today? She was supposed to call me an hour ago but she’s not picking up.
Appa ❤️ : I just tried her. It went straight to voicemail. Maybe her battery died.
Yunho :She went to her friend's daughter's wedding downtown, right? She’s probably stuck in traffic. Don’t worry.
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ :It’s not like her. She always texts if she’s running late.
[2 hours later]
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : I’m getting really worried. I called her friend. She said Eomma left over three hours ago.
Appa ❤️ : I’ll call the highway patrol. Yuna, call the hospitals near her route. Start with St. Mary’s.
Yunho: Hospitals?? Appa, don’t jump to conclusions. Let me try her again.
Yunho: It’s still off.
[1 hour later]
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Oh my god.
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Appa.
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Yunho.
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ :They have her at St. Mary’s hospital.
Yunho: WHAT?
Appa ❤️ : What happened? Is she conscious?
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Car accident. Multi-vehicle pile-up on the interstate. She’s in the ER. They said she’s stable but they’re assessing her. They wouldn’t tell me more over the phone.
Yunho: I’m coming home. I’m getting on the next train.
Appa ❤️ :Yunho, wait. Let me get there first. You have exams.
Yunho :I don’t care about the exams.
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ :I’m on my way to the hospital now. Appa, I’ll meet you there. Yunho… You should focus on your exams first. I'll talk to her.
Yunho: Noona……..
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ :Yunho.
[Seen by Yunho]
[The next day]
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Update for everyone: Eomma is out of surgery. They had to pin her ribs. She has a concussion and a lot of bruising. She’s in a lot of pain but she’s awake. She’s tough.
Appa ❤️ : Thank God. Yunho, me and Yuna are with her now, so don't worry. She’s sleeping.
Yunho: How long will she be here?
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : At least a week, they said. Maybe more. Recovery will be long.
[Seen by Yunho]
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Yunho, where are you? Did you go and write your exam? Eomma told you to do well.
[Seen by Yunho]
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Are you angry at me?
[Seen by Yunho. No reply from Yunho.]
[Two days later]
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Yunho?
Yuna Noona 👩🏻⚕️ : Hey. I know you’re scared. We all are. But you shutting down isn’t helping her. Or you. Call me when you can.
[No reply. Last seen today.]
The messages stopped there. Mingi’s heart plummeted. “Yunho… why didn’t you…”
“She’s stable,” Yunho interrupted, his voice still that terrifying monotone. “She’ll be okay. She is okay.” He said it like he was convincing himself. “I only left my room this morning.”
“And you came here?” Mingi asked, the library’s silence pressing in.
“Where else?” Yunho finally looked at him, and the raw shame in his eyes was worse than the fatigue. “I failed my last two exams, Mingi. I walked out. I saw the questions and my mind just… went white. All I could see was the phone call, the hospital lights.” He let out a shaky breath that was nowhere near a sob. It was the sound of collapse. “I’m going to lose my scholarship. I haven’t told my family. I can’t.”
This was the unpredictable core of it. It wasn’t just the accident. It was the shame. Yunho, the perfect son, the reliable friend and partner, the “golden retriever” who held everyone together, had cracked under pressure. And in his mind, that was an unforgivable sin.
Mingi’s initial panicked thoughts that Yunho was leaving him, melted away, replaced by a cold, clear understanding. This was the shadow side of the boy who had bought him coffee. The burden of being everyone’s shelter.
“So you just… disappeared,” Mingi said, not as an accusation, but as a fact.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Yunho whispered, drawing his knees up and resting his forehead on them. The pose was so reminiscent of Mingi’s own breakdown that it ached. “You look at me like I’m… I don’t know. Steady. I saw your name on my phone and I wanted to answer it every day……. Every. Single. Day. But I couldn’t make my fingers work. How was I supposed to say, ‘Actually, I’m falling apart, and I might have just thrown my future away’?”
Mingi didn’t offer empty platitudes. He didn’t say It’ll be okay. Instead, he did what Yunho had done for him years ago. He acted. He stood up, grabbed Yunho’s bag, and started shoving the scattered books and laptop inside. “Get up.”
Yunho looked up, confused. “What?”
“You’re not staying here in the dark,” Mingi said, his voice leaving no room for argument. It was a tone he’d learned from Yunho. “We’re going to my room. Now.”
“Mingi, I don’t need-”
“I’m not asking what you need,” Mingi cut him off, zipping the bag shut. He finally turned and looked down at Yunho, his expression softening. “You asked me if I trusted you. On the beach. Do you remember?”
Yunho nodded, a flicker of life returning to his eyes.
“Now it’s your turn,” Mingi said, extending a hand. “Trust me to hold you together. Just for tonight.”
The simple request shattered Yunho’s last wall. His face crumpled, not into silent sobs, but into a wave of overwhelming, noisy grief. It was for his mom, for his exams, for the terrifying feeling of failure. Mingi knelt and pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly as the older cried into his shoulder, his whole body shaking with the force of it.
It wasn’t pretty or poetic. It was messy, and snotty, and real.
Later, in Mingi’s single dorm room, after Yunho had cried himself into a state of exhausted numbness, Mingi made tea. He put a blanket around Yunho’s shoulders and sat facing him on the bed.
“We’re going to make a list,” Mingi announced, pulling out his own notebook, the same one where he writes his lyrics in.
Yunho stared at him, hollow-eyed. “A list.”
“Step one. You call your family. Talk to all three of them, your appa, noona and most importantly eomma. Not to confess about the exams, just to check on eomma and everyone else. You tell them you love them. You do it now, while I’m here.” Mingi’s voice was gentle but firm, a conductor guiding an orchestra back to the melody.
With Mingi’s hand on his knee for grounding, Yunho made the call. His voice was thick, but he said the words to his family. His sister was on the verge of crying as her voice became shaky when she heard Yunho’s voice. His mom and dad were steady but their voices were still strained with worry for Yunho. Only when Mingi took the phone and ensured that he was with Yunho and he would take care of his boyfriend did the whole family let out a breath of relief.
“Step two,” Mingi said, putting the phone down after the call. “You sleep. For at least ten hours. The world will not end.”
“Mingi….. The exams-”
“Will be dealt with in step three,” Mingi said, writing it down. “Tomorrow, we will go to your professors. We will explain that there was a family emergency. We ask for an incomplete, a retake, anything. You don’t ask. We ask.”
The use of “we” was deliberate on Mingi's part. He was building a scaffold around Yunho’s shattered confidence.
Yunho looked at the list, then at Mingi, looking for any sign of pity but only saw overflowing love in Mingi's eyes. The awe in Yunho’s eyes was new. “When did you get so strong?”
Mingi gave him a small, soft smile. “I learned from the best.” He reached out, cupping the older’s cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear as Yunho nuzzled into the warmth of his hand. “You don’t always have to be the strong one, my love. You are allowed to fall apart”, Mingi said, each word deliberate. “You are allowed to be scared. You are allowed to not be the strong one for five fucking minutes. That’s the deal. That’s what ‘us’ means. Sometimes, you’re the one holding us together. Sometimes, it's me.”
That night, Yunho slept curled around Mingi, his breathing finally deep and even. Mingi lay awake, not with anxiety, but with a fierce, protective focus. He watched the moonlight trace the lines of Yunho’s face, the stress still visible but softened by sleep.
Yunho woke to the smell of coffee the next morning, Mingi had made a terrible, too-strong coffee….. A pale, bitter imitation of the caramel macchiato that had started it all. The kind of coffee that would have made Yunho gag if it was any other time. But now the bitter taste was much more sweet when it was served with Mingi’s love.
As he glanced at the nightstand, he found the notebook open on it. Underneath the practical list, Mingi had written a single line, a lyric for his unfinished song, or more like something he wanted to say to Yunho:
‘I will love you when you are a sunrise, and I will love you when you are a cliff. My hands are not as steady as yours, but I promise I will catch you no matter what.’
It was a promise. And for the first time in three days, Yunho believed in tomorrow.
