Work Text:
Wooyoung knew that Yunho could handle his drinks. He’d seen him knock back shots of vodka like they were water and still be upright in an hour’s time. It was true that he always got a little bit loopy by the end of the night, but the alcohol was only partially to blame. He was a ‘high on the vibes’ kind of guy anyway.
Wooyoung wasn’t as sure about Mingi. He wasn’t a lightweight by any means, especially considering the sheer height and width of the man, but he seemed to compensate for this by drinking as much as he could as soon as he could get his hands on it. Wooyoung had seen the videos circulating on the internet of him chugging Jagermeister straight from the bottle. Mingi was impulsive, and that didn’t always mix well with liquor.
These were only passing thoughts, crossing his mind as he stared at the open pantry and mulled over what he should bring. It was just dinner, after all. It wasn’t like they had planned to get outrageously drunk, just pleasantly tipsy.
Wooyoung had offered to come over and make a meal for the two of them, and even though Mingi was a half-decent cook himself, he would be a fool to say no to the Jung family’s famous gochujang jjigae. It was a nice thing to think about in the weeks leading up to the break, a distraction from the nagging voice of Hongjoong putting them through their paces in the rehearsal room.
Besides, it had been a while since the three of them had a chance to eat together. Usually, their days either ended with a group meal, or with everyone going their separate, exhausted ways and curling up in their rooms. Living with an introvert was hard for someone like Wooyoung, whose brain always became too active in the quiet, and the long days and strenuous rehearsals meant that San’s social battery died pretty quickly by the time they both got back to their apartment.
The living room had ended up a fairly lonely place as of late. Now that they all finally had a few days off, Wooyoung was looking forward to actually talking to people again outside of work. He figured the three of them would spend the evening catching up, maybe watch a nice fluffy film, and he’d either stumble his way back home or crash on their couch. It sounded like a lovely way to use their free time, and he wanted to make the most of it.
It was a questionable choice to bring soju.
******
He rang the doorbell impatiently, arms full of assorted vegetables and sauces. He figured the Yungi kitchen wouldn’t exactly have a fully stocked pantry, and he had the recipe down to a science. As soon as the door was opened, he barged through and dumped the grocery bags on the bench.
“What took you so long? My arms are falling off!” Wooyoung exclaimed.
He tried to fake his annoyance, but Yunho looked so happy to see him that the act didn’t last very long. He pulled him into a tight hug, as Mingi’s voice ran out from somewhere in the next room.
“Yuhno! Where are the candles!?”
“They’re on the shelf! Next to the TV cabinet!” Yunho called back. He turned to Wooyoung and smiled, excited. “We’re setting the table and everything.”
Wooyoung took his coat off and started hunting around for a chopping board and a knife.
He was glad he had brought his own ingredients, as the cupboards seemed to be exclusively filled with instant noodles and snacks. There were two containers of leftovers in the fridge, one with abura soba and another that looked like some sort of spicy chicken dish.
It warmed Wooyoung’s heart a little, that he could tell exactly who lived there just by looking around the kitchen.
Mingi wandered in, arms full of small tealights. He grinned when he saw Wooyoung, pulling him in and slapping him on the back.
“What do you think of my outfit, Wooyoungie?” Mingi asked, voice warm and deep. He gestured to his loosely-buttoned shirt, and the baggy suit pants that he had clearly pulled out of the back of his cupboard for the occasion.
Yunho leaned in towards Wooyoung, fake-whispering.
“You have to say you like it, or he’ll get upset.”
Mingi mimed slapping Yunho.
“Ahhh, so trendy," Wooyoung said, batting his eyes, “but I think your pants are going to fall down.”
Yunho stifled a giggle. Mingi frowned.
“They’re meant to look like this! It’s the style!” he whined, indignant.
“Ah, of course, of course.” Wooyoung nodded intently, eyes wide and innocent. He put on an overly-flattering voice. “You look so cool, Mingi. So sexy.”
Mingi huffed, turning his back to the two of them in mock-anger as he began to set the table. Wooyoung turned the stove on and, whilst he prepared dinner, Yunho and Mingi laid down a tablecloth and started lighting candles to put in the centre. The room felt cozy with the lights dimmed.
There was always such a big difference between the Yungi and Woosan living rooms. It was an unspoken agreement between the latter that Wooyoung would be quiet whenever San needed rest. Considering how hard he pushed himself at rehearsals, their apartment was near-silent whenever they were preparing for a comeback, and the light usually stayed off in the evenings so that San could go to bed early.
Here, it was like they had created a little bubble. It was February, so the outside world was bitterly cold and snowy, but inside the small dining area it was perfectly warm, and the candles bathed the room in a comforting glow. Wooyoung listened to the sizzling of the fry pan, and to the cheerful conversations of his friends, and smiled to himself.
Mingi hovered around the kitchen as Wooyoung began chopping the onions, surveying the ingredients he had laid out.
“I can help with something,” he offered, “I can grab the- AH!”
He backed away suddenly, pressing his palms to his eyes and grimacing.
Yunho giggled. “This always happens.”
“Oww-”
“Most of the time he makes me cut the onions.”
Mingi groaned and rubbed at his face. “Can you get some paper towels?”
Yunho tutted and shook his head, grinning as he tore off a piece and ran it under the water. He held it out to Mingi, but he was doubled-over in exaggerated pain. Yunho rolled his eyes.
“Come here,” he said, holding Mingi by the arm and leaning in, dabbing at his eyes whilst Mingi squirmed slightly and protested.
“Hey, don’t scratch me!” Mingi complained.
“Sorry, princess.” Yunho pressed his lips together to stop himself from smiling, and ducked as Mingi tried swatting him again.
“It’s ok to cry, Minki!” Wooyoung called out. “We won’t make fun of you!”
“He’s ok, he just needs to wait in his castle.” Yunho led him over to the dining table, and Mingi sat heavily, defeated.
“Bastards.” Mingi grumbled. Wooyoung saw Yunho quickly tousle his hair before skipping back over to the kitchen to help serve the food into dishes.
“Should I get us some beer? Mingi, do we have any left over from Friday?” Yunho went to check the fridge, but Wooyoung grabbed his freezer bag and pulled out the soju, earning a small cheer from the other two in the room.
“You’re spoiling us!” Yunho exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Wooyoung. He grabbed two of the drinks and three glasses, and poured out the first shot of the night for each of them. They gathered around the dinner table, the thick smell of sesame oil and red pepper hitting almost as soon as they sat down.
They raised their glasses, clinked, and drank.
******
This same pattern continued for quite some time. Their conversation drifted from their latest comeback, to the other members, and eventually to whatever they had been filling their brief time off with. There were plenty of heated arguments, all three of them trying to make their points between bites of potato and taking shots, voices almost drowning out the sounds of snow falling on the windowpane outside. At that moment, they were locked in an intense debate over who got the better living arrangements.
“That’s easy for you to say! You don’t have to live with him!” Mingi exclaimed, indignant. Yuhno was laughing into his palms, face buried in his hands.
Mingi gestured wildly. “You leave in the morning and he’s playing that stupid game, and when you come back at night he’s still going!”
“I do other things in between!” Yuhno’s voice was muffled through his hands. “I’m the only one who cleans anything around here.”
Mingi’s eyes widened, and he stared intently. “I vacuum!”
Yunho had calmed down enough to look over at Wooyoung and sigh. “I have to stand there and watch him do it or he’ll get distracted.”
“At least you don’t have to live with Sannie,” Wooyoung exclaimed, “he’ll lock himself in his room just so he doesn’t have to do the dishes! I have to nag him to come out and clean up after himself. I sound like Seonghwa.”
He leant back in his chair, feeling warm and fuzzy. The alcohol was starting to get to his head. His shirt had become untucked, and at some point he had put his feet up on one of the stools next to him. He was surprised to look at the table and see that they had already gone through a few of the bottles he had brought over.
“Is he at home tonight?” Yunho went to check the fridge, grabbing the rest of the soju and a case of beer that they had bought the week prior and bringing it to the table. It seemed like a risky move to mix drinks, but he also poured a glass of water and set it down in front of Mingi. At least he was being responsible about it.
“Probably. He’s probably asleep right now. He’s so boring,” Wooyoung whined, grabbing a bottle and cracking it open. “All he does is sleep and go to the gym.”
Yunho shrugged. “It must be nice to have the place to yourself.”
“But it's so quiet!”
“I think we could use some peace and quiet sometimes.” Yunho mused.
He seemed less energised now, a gentle calmness settling over him as he poured a beer into glasses for him and Mingi. “I talk a lot on voice chat, and Mingi loves to sing to himself. Very loudly.”
Mingi huffed slightly, but didn’t bother defending himself. He was leaning forward in his chair now, elbows on the table, and he seemed to be just as tipsy as his guest, if not more. Wooyoung noticed that another button on his shirt had somehow come undone.
“Mingi, you shouldn’t take your clothes off at the table.” Wooyoung quipped.
Mingi looked down, confused. He started fiddling with the button, but glanced across the table and smirked.
“Hey Yunho-”
Mingi clambered off his chair and onto the ground. For a second Wooyoung thought he had tripped and fallen over, until Mingi started miming the floor choreography from ‘Slide to Me’.
Wooyoung cackled as Yunho watched closely and nodded, trying to keep the grin off his face as he pretended to judge Mingi’s dancing. “That’s not bad.”
“Careful, Yuyu,” Wooyoung warned, “he’ll take your place.”
Mingi laughed. “You can do my solo instead. We can swap.”
Yunho walked over to the bench to grab another bottle of soju. “I think I’d be quite good at rapping.”
Mingi slumped back into his chair and smiled teasingly at Yunho. “You tried it at Hongjoong’s birthday, didn’t you?”
Yunho's ears went pink as he wandered back over to the table and grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”
“It was good.”
Yunho set the bottle down. He stood behind Mingi’s chair, hands on his shoulders and massaging gently. “I don’t think our lovely Captain agreed.”
Mingi smiled at the memory of the infamous evening, chuckling to himself as he poured another round of shots.
Wooyoung wondered if their apartment was always like this. The two seemed to never tire of each other, and it was hard to recall a time where they didn’t laugh at the other's jokes or turn to each other for comfort when the group was going through a rough patch. There had been fights throughout the years, of course, but they always drifted back towards each other before long.
Wooyoung knew he and San were the same, in a way. They had been through a lot together, and at the end of the day he knew that there was nothing that could come between them, but there was something about these two that always left him with a tiny, strange ache inside his chest.
It wasn’t like San and him weren’t close, that was absurd. He didn’t think it was possible to have a deeper friendship than theirs. But these two were different somehow, and that thought had been nagging at the back of his mind for weeks.
But he didn’t mind.
It felt nice to watch them, really. It was like the pair gave off their own light, a soft yellow haze that settled over them as they laughed and teased each other. It felt nice to be a part of it.
Yunho leant forward and rested his chin on Mingi’s head. Wooyoung noticed the way his fingers trailed along Mingi’s shoulder, almost slipping under the collar of his shirt before he sat back down in his seat. It was barely noticeable. Barely.
Yunho poured another shot for Wooyoung, and again, they raised their glasses together and drank.
******
“OH! I’M JONGHO! I’M JONGHO!” Mingi shouted.
Mingi had been trying desperately to guess whose name was on the note stuck to his forehead. It had taken Wooyoung grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and trying (unsuccessfully) to split it in half for Mingi to finally catch on.
“That one was so easy!! How did it take you so long?!” Wooyoung yelled, gesturing wildly. He playfully pushed Mingi, who stumbled backwards into his seat with a thud. He leant his head on Yunho’s shoulder as Wooyoung grabbed a page off the notepad. He closed his eyes and held it out, trying to plant his feet firmly on a floor that seemed to somehow be shifting and spinning him around.
He felt someone grab the paper, and heard the other two whispering to each other and debating what name to write. He heard a drunken giggle.
“It’s too easy! He’s going to get it straight away-”
“We have to!”
Fingers pressed against his forehead. He opened his eyes to see Yunho and Mingi smiling conspiratorially at each other.
Yunho set the timer. Wooyoung rocked on the balls of his feet, waiting impatiently.
As soon as he pressed play they both whipped their heads towards Wooyoung.
Yunho furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, while Mingi puffed up his chest and pushed up his sleeve to flex his muscles.
It took Wooyoung all of two seconds to guess who they were mimicking.
“SAN! IT’S SAN!” Wooyoung shrieked. He couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous Yunho looked when he was trying to be scary. He tore the paper off his head as the others cackled.
“That was stupid! This game is supposed to be hard!!” Wooyoung whined.
“I couldn’t help it. I had to see how fast you got it.” Yunho wheezed.
Mingi leant the back of his head against Yunho’s shoulder and grinned up at him.
“I’ve never seen you frown like that, Yuyu,” Mingi giggled, “you look like an angry puppy.”
“You’re the-” Yunho paused and hiccuped, “you’re the one who’s always barking, aren’t you?”
Mingi was too drunk to think of a comeback. He just laughed to himself and put a warm hand on Yunho’s leg.
Wooyoung could feel something tugging at his heartstrings a little, but with the comfortable fog that had been creeping into his brain, he waved it aside. He took another gulp of his beer and leaned back, head spinning but in high spirits.
“You two are cute,” he slurred, gesturing vaguely at the pair. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?” Yunho let his arm fall naturally around Mingi’s shoulders as the younger man tapped out the rhythm to an unknown song on his leg.
“Spend all your time together and still be so cuddly.” Wooyoung flumped back in his seat, sighing dramatically. “If Sannie and I did that we’d kill each other.”
“I don’t know. If he leaves junk all over the bed again, I might be tempted.”
Mingi made a small, sad sound, staring up at Yunho with a wounded, wide-eyed stare. Yunho glanced down at the drunken man on his shoulder, a soft smile playing on his lips. It was impossible not to fold when Mingi got like this.
“You’re right, though. I don’t really know how we do it either. It just worked out that way.” Yunho rubbed Mingi’s shoulder. “I don’t think either of us would do very well being apart.”
Mingi shook his head.
“I couldn’t live without him.” Mingi mumbled. He said it lightly, as if he barely noticed the words coming out of his mouth. He was blissfully unaware of himself, staring absently at Yunho with tired, soft eyes.
Yunho’s face melted, unable to conceal the warmth in his expression. “You’re very sentimental, aren’t you?”
Even though he was teasing Mingi, he spoke gently, and it was almost unbearable how much tenderness there was in his voice.
It almost hurt Wooyoung to look at them, but he always felt extra emotional when he’d had a bit to drink, so he figured he was just being overly clingy. A little envious of their closeness, maybe, but that was nothing to make a fuss about.
He watched Yunho slide a hand onto Mingi’s back, rubbing between his shoulder blades. He watched Mingi blink, a strange intensity coming over his face as he leant closer to Yunho.
“Don’t laugh at me.” He murmured, breath warm against his cheek.
“I’m not.” Yunho tilted his head slightly to the side as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re just very sweet when you’re drunk.”
A look passed between the two of them, an invisible question. Yunho raised his eyebrow slightly. Mingi leant almost imperceptibly forwards.
What happened next seemed so natural, so normal, that Wooyoung’s brain barely barely registered it.
He watched Mingi cup Yunho’s face in his hand, and they kissed.
Wooyoung didn’t react. He blinked, as if he didn’t understand what he was seeing, or why a muffled part of his brain was telling him that something unusual was going on.
It was only quick, over in a second, and he remained silent as Yunho’s hand moved to rest on the back of Mingi’s neck, Mingi’s arm wrapped loosely around Yunho’s waist. Mingi settled back in his seat and started tapping a rhythm with fingers again.
It was all so fast, so casual, that it took Wooyoung a few more seconds to process what had happened.
Eventually something clicked, and his jaw dropped open. He stared at his friends, mind reeling.
“Waitwaitwaitwait-” Wooyoung fumbled, words blurred into one another, “what was- are you two-”
He gestured vaguely at the pair of them, eyes wide in disbelief.
The pair looked at each other, almost as if remembering that there was someone else in the room with them. Mingi buried his face in his hands. Yunho looked everywhere except for Wooyoung, giggling quietly like a schoolboy who had just let out a secret he wasn’t supposed to. He took a sip of his beer, feigning nonchalance, but almost spilt it on himself in the process.
“I didn’t mean to do that.” Mingi half-whispered to himself.
Yunho snickered, ears bright red, and patted his back. “It’s ok.”
He had to find out somehow, Yunho thought. Being so close with Wooyoung, they had figured something like this would happen eventually.
Mingi turned to look at Wooyoung, smile faltering ever so slightly when he saw the shock in the other man’s eyes. There was a brief, uncomfortable moment where they wondered if they had misjudged the situation, if this was a bigger deal than they thought. Wooyoung always had something to say, but at that moment, he was speechless.
However, the silence was thankfully ended when Wooyoung tipped his head back and let out a cackle so loud that Mingi nearly jumped out of his seat. He pointed at the two of them and laughed until he couldn’t breathe.
“You’re both idiots!” Wooyoung wheezed, dying. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
The sober part of him was quietly telling him to take this seriously, to think of something gentle and accepting to say. But seeing the drunken look on the couple’s faces, both embarrassed and excited at once, made him start laughing all over again.
And they didn’t seem to mind. In fact, there was an intense sense of relief that washed over the room as Wooyoung laughed. They were finally acknowledging the elephant in the room, and it was ok.
There was a chorus of explanations from the pair about their secrecy.
“We were going to say something-”
“We didn’t really know how to-”
“It’s only been a few months-”
“A FEW MONTHS??” Wooyoung screeched. He had jumped out of his seat now, flapping his hands excitedly. “How did you hide it so well?!”
Mingi pointed at Yunho. “He’s too good at lying!! He’ll make up stories about where we’ve been and why we’re spending so much time together and everything-”
“I’m barely doing anything!” Yunho interrupted. “I think people are just pretending they don’t notice.”
“I’m not pretending!!” Wooyoung said indignantly. “I thought you two were just close!!”
“Young-ah, we spend every break together, we drive home together every day-”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “That’s nothing! Me and San are like that, and we’re not…”
He gestured vaguely at the two of them.
“...whatever you two are.”
The pair turned to face each other, a look that Wooyoung couldn’t quite read in his drunken state passing between them. Mingi opened his mouth to say something, but Yunho gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and he thought better of it.
Wooyoung was barely paying attention. He was still in shock, running his hands through his hair and rocking on the balls of his feet. The couple didn’t know what reaction they had been hoping for, but they were mostly just glad that he was happy for them.
And he was. He was very happy for them. He was so happy for them that the other feelings, the strange squeezing that had started inside his chest, the quiet hum that was building in the back of his mind, were drowned out for now. He knew that later, alone on his bed in a silent apartment, all those feelings would rise to the surface, but for now it was easy enough to gently submerge them again.
And there was plenty to do in the meantime.
He had an endless list of questions, some more personal than others, and if he didn’t ask them all right now he thought he might collapse under the weight of them. Wooyoung sat back down in his seat and folded his hands, staring the couple down with a wild look in his eyes.
“So who else knows??”
“I told some of my family. Yunho told one of his friends from school.” Mingi coughed, uncomfortable. “...and Yeosang knows.”
Wooyoung’s jaw dropped once more.
“You bastards! Why would you tell him before me?!”
“We didn’t! He heard us on the phone together!” Mingi whined. “I didn’t realise he was there until I hung up. He scared the shit out of me.”
“Aside from him, none of the members know.” Yunho looked at the table.
His expression softened. He was smiling, but the smallest hint of sadness was audible in his voice as he continued. “We’d like to tell everyone eventually. It’ll just be a bit of an adjustment.”
“Because Joongie’s gonna kill you?” Wooyoung asked, matter-of-fact.
Yunho nodded, and took another swig of beer.
“He’s the last person on earth who should know about us.” Mingi grumbled.
Wooyoung sighed. “Not unless you want to end up in a trunk at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.”
Mingi snorted. Yunho sighed. It wasn’t as if they resented Hongjoong for being so strict, but telling the poster boy of idol image that two of his members were in a secret relationship sounded like an easy way to get the pair separated for life. And to give their captain a nervous breakdown.
The image of them kissing was burning in Wooyoung’s mind, and he swore he could still see that same glimmer in their eyes when they turned to look at him. It was like they had reached out a hand to him, like that warm glow that seemed to wrap around the two of them had been stretched just that little bit further. He didn't know what to do with the feeling.
“So whose bed do you sleep in?” he blurted out.
Mingi reached across the table to slap him and Yunho laughed, nearly knocking their glasses over.
“Why are you always such a pervert, Young-ah?!” Mingi groaned.
Wooyoung cackled. He walked around the table to stand in between the two of them, wrapping his arms around them and pulling them in.
“Just curious.” Wooyoung said in a sing-songy voice.
Standing between the two of them was like being swaddled. Yunho’s hair was soft against his cheek, and the woody scent of Mingi’s perfume made his head spin more than it already was. Wooyoung sat back down at one of the chairs and scooted forward, resting his chin on his hands.
“So… tell me.”
Yunho blinked. “Tell you what?”
“Everything.”
“I don’t know if-”
“When did you start dating?” Wooyoung interrupted, impatient.
Yunho began hesitantly, glancing over at the half-asleep Mingi, “I guess… we sort of started during Part 3 rehearsals.”
“...and? Who asked who??” Wooyoung insisted.
It felt so strange to talk about this, even to Wooyoung.
Considering they had both heard stories of his wild nights out in particular areas of the city, and San had complained more than once about waking up to find random men wandering about their house in a towel, they figured he was a safe bet. But after so many months of whispering behind closed doors and unsending messages in case someone went through their phones, it still felt unreal to put it out in the open.
“I did.” Yunho admitted eventually, slurring his words slightly.
Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s a shock.” His voice was brimming with sarcasm.
As if waking back up from his stupor, Mingi looked up and squinted at Wooyoung.
“Why’d you say it like that?” he rumbled. “I could’ve done it.”
Wooyoung let out a single, harsh laugh. “You’re dating a gentleman, Mingi. I’d be surprised if he didn’t show up with flowers and a speech too.”
The tips of Yunho’s ears were a bright pink. He did, in fact, buy flowers for Mingi once he worked up the courage to. Although, he recalled, the shift between them had been fairly obvious by that point. All he really did was make it official.
Wooyoung giggled into his drink. “You should keep an eye on him though, Yunho. He’s still a flirt.”
Yunho fake sighed. “I know. Every day I have to compete with Atiny.”
Mingi swilled the last of his beer around in the glass. “He’s worse than me, Youngie. He acts all innocent, but every time he posts it’s…”
Mingi demonstrated a series of poses, making sultry eyes at Wooyoung and running his hands over his neck.
“Oh, your boyfriend likes to post sexy photos? That must be so hard for you.” Wooyoung nodded, voice dripping with fake sympathy.
Mingi mumbled a series of expletives at Wooyoung and averted his eyes.
The word ‘boyfriend’ seemed to linger in the air. It felt surreal to hear it coming out of someone else’s mouth and, in all honesty, it still felt new enough to the pair to send a little shiver through the room.
“That’s what you two are, yeah? Boyfriends?”
Mingi and Yunho looked at each other, thinking. It had been such a strange journey, such a gradual shift in their dynamic, that they didn’t always know what to call this. What to call each other. ‘Boyfriends’ was sweet, but after being friends for so many years, it felt like more than that.
“Too many questions,” Mingi mumbled, scrunching his eyebrows against a rapidly-growing headache. “Too complicated.”
Once again, Yunho had to be the spokesperson for the two.
“I suppose we are. But I…” Yunho cleared his throat. “I like to say ‘partners.’”
Partners. That word could mean anything, but being in the presence of the pair, Wooyoung knew what it meant to them. Together through all the pressures and the absurdity of idol life, one unit against the world.
Wooyoung nodded. It was too much. Too many things to think about, too many questions, and probably too many drinks. He thought of San, lying peacefully asleep and unaware at their house. He felt ill, but he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to break away from their little bubble of safety.
He reached out and grabbed the pair's hands, smiling. He wished he could say everything he was feeling, but the words were already falling apart in his mouth.
“Congratulations,” he said quietly, genuine for a moment. He squeezed tighter for a moment, not wanting to let the feeling go.
“You two are very brave.” Braver than me, he thought.
Eventually, he made his way back to his side of the table. He poured the last dregs of drink into their glasses and held them aloft. He grinned, cheesily.
“A toast to the happy couple?”
The other two cringed slightly, but stood, basking in the quiet peace of the room. The wind was howling outside, but the rattling of the windows seemed quieter somehow, fading until there was nothing else. Nothing but the three of them.
They raised their glasses one last time, and drank.
******
Wooyoung tiptoed through the door of the empty room quietly. After he had helped Yunho to stack the dishes, they had taken one look at the state of the weather and decided Wooyoung should crash there for the night. He would’ve been happy to take the couch, but they had insisted on letting him use one of their bedrooms.
His earlier question about sleeping arrangements had been answered after all. The pair had taken Yunho’s bed for themselves, and now Wooyoung stood blinking in the dim moonlight seeping in around the cracks in Mingi’s curtains. He could turn on the lamp, but the darkness seemed to lessen the pounding in his head.
It felt strange to be alone in the Yungi household. He was so used to spending his time here surrounded by friends and conversation that the peaceful quiet was disorienting.
Wooyoung slowly began undressing, fumbling with the buttons on his jeans and swearing softly to himself under his breath. It was hard to keep his balance when he tried to tug them off, stumbling into the wall with a soft thud. He paused, listening for any sign of movement through the wall, but there was only silence.
They must’ve fallen asleep straight away. Yunho showered in the morning, so he had stayed around and chatted quietly with Wooyoung until Mingi emerged from their bathroom in his fluffy pajamas. They had said goodnight, barely able to speak though their yawning, and ambled off. It hadn’t felt weird until they shut the door behind them.
Looking around, Wooyoung had expected some sort of mess, some clothes or junk that Mingi hadn’t bothered to pick up, but the room was strangely bare. The desk looked untouched, and the bed was neat in a way that made it hard to imagine that anyone had ever laid down there. Wooyoung realised, with a pang of some oddly painful feeling, that this was more of a spare bedroom now.
Wooyoung pulled off his shirt, leaving it draped on the back of a chair. Yunho had offered him one of his old pajama tops for the night, and when he pulled it on he swore he could still smell his cologne. He thought he could smell Mingi’s perfume on it too. His stomach turned over, and he didn’t think it was from the alcohol.
He fell gracelessly into bed, trying to fluff the pillows in a way that made them feel more like they did at home. He lay on his back, looking blankly at the bluish darkness above him.
It must’ve been very late. Or early, he supposed. In the distance, a solitary bird had started singing, the first thing to wake up in a city that was still asleep.
In his mind’s eye, Wooyoung could see Mingi and Yunho in the other room. He didn't know why, but when he pictured them, the two were huddled close under the covers together, like teenagers spending the night at each other’s houses for the first time.
Mingi’s hair would still be damp, he thought, still smell of shampoo, but he was sure that Yunho wouldn’t mind. He would let Mingi tuck his head under his chin, or press his face into the crook of his neck as they slept. He would wrap his arms around the other man’s waist, and let their legs intertwine. Their breathing would be warm on each other’s skin.
It was all Wooyoung could think about, as he brought the blanket up to his chin and pressed himself deeper into the mattress. These sheets were probably the same pattern as the ones they were sleeping under right now. The thought made him ache.
Just a little further down the hall, two people were doing what they did every night.
And Wooyoung was only a few metres away, lying on his back and staring blankly at the ceiling that wasn’t his, in the apartment he was a guest in. A stranger.
Thinking about it was exhausting. He was grateful for the fog that was settling over his brain, the drinks and the hours of conversation dragging him slowly down into sleep. He shut his eyes, looking for some comfort in that faint smell, that tranquil silence.
But it didn’t stop the truth from settling in like a weighted blanket, right as his eyes began to close.
The truth that it didn’t really matter how long he spent with his friends, sharing their jokes or their drinks, or letting himself be lit up by that gentle glow the pair both seemed to have when they were together. The closer he got to something like this, something soft and sweet and not unlike love, the less likely it seemed that he would ever be a part of it.
Some things were just meant for other people. It was better to accept that then keep trying to fight it.
But for now, he could let that feeling dissipate in the gentle darkness of the couple’s apartment. He could let his mind go blank, and he could sleep in the warmth of someone else’s life. It was a beautiful thing to be a part of, while it lasted.
Wooyoung closed his eyes.