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Summary
"Forget I said anything, I was just," Mingi cleared his throat, steadying his voice. "Making sure."
His tone regained its smoothness, the richness and reclaimed calm of it reaching Yunho's ears. The phone's speaker carried the sound across the entire room.
"Yeah," Yunho muttered. He drew a breath through parted lips.
He reached to knead at the back of his neck, staring at nothing in particular.
(or: Mingi misinterprets that Yunho is touching himself while on call. Yunho doesn't realize that's even an option—until he considers it.)