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It doesn't feel as weird as it should, he thinks. It doesn't feel uneasy or disorienting and it doesn't manifest itself in any painful or scarring physical pains. If anything, it's like when a piece of ice is dropped down your shirt and your shoulders hunch up; the shiver inevitable. It's a subtle tingling up your spine that reminds him of tiptoeing into freezing ocean water or stepping outside into frosty winter air. When he feels it, he knows it's happened. He's just not really sure why.
The first time he experiences it, he's eight. They're playing a neighborhood game of baseball and he is always in the outfield, his nonstop energy being perfect for running this way and that way in the overgrown grass that tickles his ankles. The neighborhood kids didn't play baseball a lot, since the balls were always getting lost and most of the time they never had enough bodies to play a proper game. But that day they had just enough.
Seungcheol taps his bat against the plate and shouts out his own name to no one in particular, garnering snickers from the opposing team. Jun lobs one down the pipe and the elder boy smacks one straight towards Mingyu, directly to left-center field, and he thinks maybe he's been stung by some insect the way he feels the slight nip between his shoulder-blades that shoots down the length of his spine. But when he opens his eyes, he no longer sees the ball rapidly flying towards him, arching and falling against the bright blue sky. Seungcheol isn't even at the plate; he's sitting on the bench chatting with the new kid who just moved to town from China. His name escapes Mingyu in the moment but he notes how his ears stuck out in a funny way underneath his hat.
When Seungcheol finally stands and grabs his bat, striding towards homeplate to take his turn, the feeling of deja vu that overtakes Mingyu is uncanny. Of course eight year old him doesn't understand that at the time but he feels like he has skipped back to rewatch his favorite part of a movie. The taller, older boy taps his bat in the same manner and calls out his name but this time, Mingyu doesn't laugh.
When he yells over to Soonyoung in right field asking what just happened (because someone else had to see that too, right?), he receives a head tilt and a strange look in reply.
"We're losing, thanks to you."
It happens intermittently at first, to the point where he would nearly forget about it. He'd be riding his bike or sitting in class or lounging on the couch in Wonwoo's basement laughing alongside Minghao and Jun as Soonyoung shoved straws up his nose and shot wads of paper at them (they would collapse in a pile of giggles, all swatting arms and thrashing legs). Suddenly the sensation would creep along his back and have him shudder, his eyes squeezing shut, and by the time he opened them, things had rewound themselves.
It would only take him back short periods, tens of minutes at most, and at first, he'd waste it. He'd be confused and scared and if anyone was around, they could sense it. Mingyu, the boy who always smiled and laughed and flitted around would transform into this bewildered, alarmed shell of himself. Quickly he learned to stop asking about it; it never seemed to happen to anyone else and his friends started to think something was wrong with him (there was, he reasoned to himself).
It genuinely frightened other people sometimes too, like when he yelled for his mother to be careful of touching a hot pan (he had heard her yelp from down the hall just seconds before) and he could sense the alarm she felt from the other room once his voice quieted. How could her son see what she was doing when he was out of sight? He didn't really know either but he thankfully escaped any interrogation when the shy Minghao appeared at his front door, asking Mingyu's mom if he could come over to hang out with him, Jun, and Wonwoo.
Mingyu thanks the heavens that he is able to keep his mother from burning herself; not just to save her the pain but for his own selfish reasons too. Spending the evening with his friends as opposed to in the emergency room with his mother seemed far more enjoyable.
Over time, it becomes more frequent. It happens a couple times a week, sometimes more, even multiple times a day, to the point where he spends nearly every waking hour anticipating it. The moments that he doesn't waste waiting for it to occur are used to figure out why it happened when it did. The grander question (why it was happening at all) seemed too broad and unanswerable but figuring out what triggered it? That seemed plausible, at least to a child. He keeps track of them after that, writing down dates and times of day and approximate lengths that he skipped back. What he was doing, who he was with, what had happened. It was a lot for someone his age to process.
He never figures out what exactly causes it but he does discover some things that don't appear to be factors. It wasn't hinged on if he was upset or stressed; sometimes it would happen when he was and other times it didn't. He couldn't will it to happen either. It happened both when he was alone and with others, though more often the latter.
When he's in a good mood, he makes a game out of it, messing with his friends and teachers and sometimes his parents. And when he's not, he gets lost in his mind, wondering why it's happening only to him and not to anybody else.
---
He's fourteen when he first tells anyone about it. Wonwoo is lounging back on the couch in his basement, legs slowly swinging back and forth over the arm of it. Mingyu is laying on the floor, chest flush to the ground and cheek pressed against it too.
"Hyung... would you believe me if I told you I was a time traveler?"
He doesn't, of course. Mingyu explains that there's no machine or time turner or magic phone booth; it's just this odd... feeling and sensation and he doesn't know how or why it happens but it does, he swears. Wonwoo spares him the humiliation of making fun for him and goes for a more blunt yet still hurtful response of rolling his eyes and promptly ignoring his best friend to devote his attention back to his book.
Two weeks later though, the pair are playing cards with a bunch of the guys and when it happens to Mingyu right after Minghao plays a full house (Queens over fives), he takes it as his chance to actually prove to Wonwoo that he isn't a liar. He gets a few accusations of being a cheater (the first of which to call him so was Jeonghan, which seemed ironic) and some smacks on the head, but it gets his hyung's attention when he jokes about seeing the future.
Later that night, Wonwoo listens to him explain with a blank face and steely eyes. Mingyu would find it unnerving if he wasn't so used to the serious expression, knowing it only means that he was mulling something over or considering it heavily. He expected to feel unnerved at finally revealing his deep, dark secret but he knows Wonwoo well enough that with the right about of convincing, he will believe him. And he does.
He spends the next few weeks being interrogated, questioned about when it happens and how long the periods are that he skips back. Wonwoo takes it very seriously and demands to see Mingyu's notes and journal entries about his "trips", trying to piece them together. He's surprised there isn't red string and bulletin boards involved and when he jokes one day that maybe he's just a superhero meant to use his power for good, Wonwoo simply blinks at him ("With your dumb face? You wish.")
Autumn comes in slowly, the warm weather stretching long into October which is nice and unexpected. The two best friends lazily play catch one evening, the sun turning a dark golden orange that means it's almost time to go home.
"Maybe we need to think more about when it first started," Wonwoo thinks aloud, randomly. Mingyu shrugs as the ball is thrown back to him, making a delightful smacking sound into the net of his glove.
"I already told you about it. It was just a random day." Summer, baseball, his friends all together (literally all of them). That was the only rarity. He tosses the ball back, mechanically. "Maybe it has to do with all of us being together."
"Maybe. That's also the day we first met Minghao."
Minghao. The name hits him hard and he doesn't know why but he doesn't bother to lift his mitt when the older boy tosses the ball back at him, hitting him square in the shoulder.
Jun lives a few blocks away from Mingyu and while the two weren't necessarily close back when he was eight, their friend circle was the same. So when the twelve of them all met up to play ball that day, nobody questioned the introduction of Jun's friend who had just moved to town. He was short but not as short as Jihoon and he was sorta lanky and stick-like, but not as much as Seokmin. His ears stuck out in a way that made Mingyu want to reach out and pinch the tops of them but before the temptation overtook him, he was dragged out onto the field by Soonyoung.
And since then, Minghao had become the thirteenth member of their group.
Mingyu also remembers his first experience with the time bounce back, seeing Minghao chatting with Seungcheol during their ballgame. Why had that been important?
Sleep escapes him that night and it's unsettling how he can't shake Minghao's face from his mind. It pains him almost, worse than the dull ache in his shoulder, and he doesn't know what to make of it. The next day he doesn't think twice about running to Minghao's place after breakfast, all yawns and untied shoelaces. Somehow, he thinks, seeing him in person will calm the weird feeling in his gut but just as he starts to get winded from his sprinting, he feels the spark shoot down his spine and he's brought back to the night before, wide awake in bed.
The thought of laying there, waiting for morning with his friend's face looming in his head seems torturous so while Mingyu was never the type to sneak behind his parents' backs about anything, he reasons with himself that slipping out his window this once wouldn't be the worst thing he could do.
The neighborhood is quiet and he feels like a burglar the way he tries to sneak along the road, practically tiptoeing as if the sound of his heels on the ground would wake up everyone in the houses lining the street. He stops in front of the semi-familiar house, noting that all the lights are off and this is really a bad idea, isn't it?
He's come this far though so he takes a deep breath and awkwardly climbs over the brick fence, tripping over a coiled hose as he makes his way around the back to the window he knows to be Minghao's. As expected, it's dark, and the house is raised up on its foundation just enough that even the tall for his age boy has trouble peeking in.
Is this creepy? he wonders to himself and for a moment, he wills the tingling sensation to come and take him back to his bedroom so he can be back in his bed and wait it out until morning. But it never comes.
Less than delicately, he drags a patio chair towards the windowsill, stepping up on it and pressing the sides of his hands to glass, peering in. The moon casts just enough light for him to see outlines of the furniture and belongings inside through the semi-sheer curtains and he's just about to knock when something in the room moves and surprises him, causing him to step back and nearly off the chair. A yelp (or some sort of strangled noise, it's embarrassing) escapes his mouth as he steadies himself and the window is yanked open. Minghao squints up at him, all messy hair and pouted lips.
"Mingyu? What the hell are you doing out here?"
The elder boy smiles sheepishly and is grateful when he's invited in, despite the hissed scolding he receives for being so thoughtless ("My parents would murder both of us if they caught you, you idiot.")
The two lay on his bed, their legs raised and stretched out, heels resting against the wall. Minghao doesn't ask again why he's stopped by, if it could even be called that, and Mingyu is grateful because he hadn't thought up an excuse. Instead the two talk about school and baseball and how annoying Jun has gotten since he started getting all sorts of attention from girls. Mingyu steals glances at him and he's quite nice to look at, he thinks, with his rounded nose and prettily shaped eyes. This realization doesn't seem uncomfortable to him, something he comes to label as strange later on. But seeing Minghao does make him feel better and for a moment, he forgets all about time traveling.
The blanket spread over them smells warm and comforting, something to it that Mingyu can't place but it seems inherently Minghao and it makes him smile. He doesn't realize he's dozed off until the smaller boy is shaking his shoulder, face hovering a mere inches above his. The clock beside the bed radiates with a green 4:36.
"You better go home before either of our parents finds out."
The temperature's dropped considerably so Minghao loans him a sweatshirt that is snug across his shoulders and too short in the arms. But it's warm and dry and possesses the same scent as the blanket he was just sleeping under.
Mingyu makes it back into his own bed with his parents' being none the wiser and he drifts back into sleep with the sweatshirt pulled up over his mouth and nose.
---
Their first year of college, Christmas sneaks up on him. Classes are drowning him and he wonders why his "condition" (that's what Wonwoo started calling it in public, like it was some medical hang-up) can't strike him the night before exams so he can have the extra time to study and cram.
The group of thirteen boys decide on doing a Secret Santa this year and when Mingyu draws Soonyoung's name from Seungcheol's ball cap one night, he knows just what to get him. The satisfaction of having an easy gift to buy is short-lived though because the tingling hits him and suddenly he is presented with his hyung's hat once again.
In all the years he's dealt with this "condition", he's come to realize that it usually happens when he is supposed to change what he does. Even if it's just a little bit, it seems to keep the course of time in line. So with that in mind, his fingers ignore the first piece of paper they touch and he digs down deeper for another. He wishes he could say he is surprised when it reads Minghao's name.
He hasn't shared this epiphany with his best friend and confidant Wonwoo yet (it's embarrassing and kind of weird?) but Mingyu is pretty certain that the jumps in time have to do with Minghao. One day he started reading through all the occurrences he had documented, the list was long (six and a half pages), and so many of them were blatantly related to Minghao in some way. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it happened indirectly too, like missing the bus one day a few years back which had him calling his mom at work for a ride. She couldn't take him so he ended up walking and halfway there, Minghao rolled up beside him on his bike. It was awkward, considering their size difference (and maybe how closely he latched onto his friend), but Minghao got both of them there with laughs and smiles and jokes about how he always wanted to take a pretty face around on a ride like that. Mingyu will never forget that moment or the way his cheeks heated up, thankfully unnoticed by the other boy.
Minghao is hard to buy a gift for. He doesn't have any easily thought of hobbies like Wonwoo and reading or Seungcheol and sports. The guy dances, and he's very skilled at it, but Mingyu doesn't know what to buy a dancer. Jun mentions to him one day that he's translating a book of Chinese poems (by himself, by hand) into Korean to give to Wonwoo and despite how much he teases the elder boy about it, he can appreciate the personalization and sentiment behind it. Then again, Jun and Wonwoo have a very different relationship than he and Minghao have.
He decides on something personal in his own way: food. He's a hell of a good cook if he does say so himself and when he tries to think of something that may touch Minghao, he thinks of China. He thinks of how he wouldn't know what to do if he was uprooted and moved to another country as a kid where he could barely get by speaking basic phrases of the language. Minghao never complained about it, he never showed any struggle with the adjustment, but he never showed those kinds of emotions about anything really.
He spends the days leading up to the holiday researching traditional Chinese dishes and picking Jun's mother's brain over the phone, much to her son's chagrin.
Christmas Eve arrives and thanks to the holidays, the thirteen boys are all able to join together (as it was always a rarity, especially with them being older now). There's lots of yelling and talking and drinking the beer Seungcheol snatched for them by being a charmer. They exchange gifts and Mingyu only spends a few moments wondering who on earth knitted him a beautiful royal blue scarf because that was a talent he didn't know any of them possessed. Not to make himself so obvious as the gift giver (though Jun and Wonwoo and probably Soonyoung already knew he had picked Minghao's name), he sneaks glances as Minghao tears the paper apart and reveals a neatly folded sweatshirt.
Long gone is the comforting scent that Mingyu had once loved about it. Now it smells like his mother's detergent and it is far too small for him to fit into, probably even Minghao too... He wasn't sure if the other boy would even remember lending him the article of clothing years ago but the way his knitted brow softens as he unfolds it and holds it up gives Mingyu a glimmer of hope. The unsigned note he had carefully tucked inside it drops into Minghao's lap and as he silently reads it (it states a promise of a home-cooked Chinese meal), Seungkwan points at him.
"Okay, who gave poor Minghao a freaking hand-me-down sweatshirt?"
After presents, things lulled into separate quieter conversations and pockets of people spread throughout Wonwoo's basement. Mingyu gets cornered by the host and his handsy boyfriend for a chunk of the night and normally he'd be annoyed at their in-your-face PDA but his eyes keep wandering around in search of Minghao. He never approaches Mingyu aside from a bump in at the cooler, making an off-handed comment on how the color of the scarf (he had forgotten he was wearing it and that had to be why he suddenly felt warm, right?) looked good against his skin.
It's too cold outside when the party breaks up with hugs and a few sloppy cheek kisses. Mingyu's breath is nearly opaque as he puffs out some air and he stuffs his hands in his pockets after hugging a tipsy Soonyoung for the umpteenth time; as wonderful as the time together has been, he really just wants to get home and into his nice warm bed. He sees Minghao step out of the house and they lock eyes for a moment but Mingyu turns and heads down the sidewalk, chiding himself for thinking he would remember something as silly as loaning out a sweatshirt to him literally years ago.
He doesn't even make it halfway down the block before the tingles creep up his spine and he slows to a stop, cursing under his breath. He knows what it means this time, he knows what he should do.
Mingyu is once again being smushed by Soonyoung and this time he laughs lightly, ruffling the shorter boy's hair before prying him off. When his gaze meets Minghao's, he offers him a smile too and waits on bouncing heels for the boy to step beside him.
They walk home together, relatively quiet aside from inaudible noises that comment on how damn cold it is. Mingyu pulls the scarf up over his mouth and nose and when he takes in a deep breath, he's hit with a smell that seems so familiar.
"So... what are you gonna cook for me?"
The question catches him off guard and he turns his head to look at the other when it all hits him, like multiple bricks being thrown at his skull. That scent? It's familiar because it's Minghao's. And the regifted sweatshirt and IOU for a homecooked meal? He knows it's from Mingyu.
"I didn't know if you knew it was me," he admits. Minghao hums, the tips of his ears and nose red from the cold.
"You don't think I remember you stealing my sweatshirt?"
"I didn't steal it! You gave it to me."
"Uh, to borrow." He shoots the taller boy a dirty look that makes them both laugh and Mingyu feel like a bit of an idiot. But the way Minghao's laughter rings in his ears takes precedent over anything else. "Anyway, if I hadn't remembered, the cooking gave it away. It's not like half the guys can even manage to make ramen, so... what are you gonna make me?"
Mingyu is about to answer when he feels a hand tug the scarf up over his nearly numb ears.
"I just knew this color would look good on you." Mingyu swallows and manages to cough out a reply.
"Since when do you knit?"
---
It's the end of winter, unseasonably warm with snow melting and dripping from tree branches like droplets from the spring rains that will be coming soon enough. Mingyu is walking back to his dorm from class, a stride behind Minghao despite his much longer legs and steps. His eyes are trained on the ground, carefully maneuvering around and over puddles of melted snow and slush and the two are just about to turn down their street when the smaller boy calls out for him.
"Look!"
Mingyu looks up and all he can register in the brief moment is the wide, beautiful smile spread across Minghao's face as he gently pulls down a tree branch with a small but vibrantly green bud bursting from it. The tightening in his chest spreads out like an unfolding fist and there's a second where he's sure he stopped breathing. The image of that moment, as short as it was, stays ingrained on his eyelids and when that wonderful pain in his chest worms its way to his spine, that tingling feeling he knows so well taking over, he holds onto the image like a photograph, solid in his grasp.
But there was no need to hold onto it so tightly because he gets to live it again and again, the same few seconds as they round the corner and Minghao's voice calls out to him with the sound of pure unadulterated happiness. Mingyu watches that same smile spread across his face and he feels it down into his core over and over, he loses count how many times. The repetition of it only ends when he finally does something and instead of merely watching his friend with parted lips and glazed over eyes, he reaches out a hand and touches the other's cheek, curving his thumb up and under his bottom lip.
Minghao's smile falters and he instantly lets go of the branch and that's when Mingyu realizes he shouldn't have done anything. He should have just let that moment replay for the rest of his life, for the rest of eternity. But because he was greedy, it ended with the smaller boy mumbling about getting home and taking off in a jog.
The mental picture of his smile though, the way his eyes lit up in such a way that made Mingyu want to live and die all at once... he will always remember that image.
The two don't speak for a few days, Minghao having some excuse as to why they can't take their normal walk home together. One day it's a text about studying in the library and not wanting any distractions and the next day it's a relayed message from Seokmin about plans with Jun (Mingyu bumps into the latter grabbing pizza with Wonwoo, no Minghao in sight). Mingyu hates being avoided, he hates knowing he did something wrong but most of all, he hates not seeing Minghao like he used to.
Why did he have to ruin things? Why did this stupid condition want him to mess things up? He wears the blue scarf to bed and tries to pick out the scent in its chunky weave but he can't find it.
Wonwoo asks him about it a few times and he keeps quiet for the most part until one Friday night when they're at a party and Mingyu drinks way too much (he normally doesn't because the first college party they went to, Soonyoung threw up all over him and he vowed to never do that to anyone himself). The liquor and too loud music has him feeling particularly emotional and mopey so with his head against Wonwoo's arm, he starts talking.
He tells Wonwoo everything. He tells him how he figured out it has to do with Minghao for reasons unknown and he tells him about laying awake thinking of him and budding tree branches and blue scarves and how much he misses him (but he doesn't cry; his eyes just sting and when he wipes at them, they get irritated). He tells Wonwoo how it hasn't happened since he and Minghao last were together and the older boy shuts him up with a shove of his head, causing him to sit up.
"Just talk to him, idiot. Tell him about it."
That idea hasn't crossed Mingyu's mind before at all. It was one thing telling Wonwoo who, as stand-offish as he may seem sometimes, was always on his side but trying to explain to someone that time rewound and replayed itself for him and oh hey, it happens because of you... it sounds terrifying.
The next week, Minghao manages to join them for lunch which isn't normal since he usually uses the break to practice in the dance studio. But he joins them at the table and sits down diagonally across from Mingyu and despite Wonwoo stomping on his foot, he stands and murmurs an excuse about needing to go ask a professor a question.
He only makes it a few steps from the table before the sensation creeps along his spine and he's sitting back down, spoon of rice in his hand. Minghao sits down and Mingyu wants to bolt again but he knows what will happen. Instead he simply evades Wonwoo's stomping foot and clears his throat.
"Hey Minghao, wanna hang tonight?" The red-haired boy pauses his motion, food halfway to his mouth.
"I was gonna fit in some extra practice tonight..." Mingyu is about to admit defeat but Wonwoo elbows him and god, why does he always have to revert to physical prodding?
"Can I come watch then?" Minghao seems surprised by the question but nods anyway, almost hesitantly. Mingyu is happy though, finishing off his food properly while his friends around him chatter away.
He's only been in the dance studio once or twice to meet up with Soonyoung. It's late so there are no classes, just individuals practicing and working and Mingyu suddenly feels very incompetent and like a lumbering sack of potatoes as he watches a girl twirl and spin and another boy seem to glide along the floors.
He peeks in different windows until he spots his friend inside a room all by himself, stretching. It's his intention to make a quiet entrance but the door squeaks obnoxiously as he pushes it open and Minghao looks over at him blankly.
"Hi." The younger boy only nods in greeting as Mingyu takes a seat along the mirrored wall, legs outstretched before him.
Mingyu loses track of time as he watches Minghao practice. He bends and spins and he does freaking backflips and Mingyu has to restrain himself from clapping or crying out in awe. Instead he watches wide-eyed and slack-jawed, even after Minghao retries the same segments over and over again.
The dancer is panting lightly when he finally cuts off the music and when he looks over at Mingyu, the older boy notices how his hair sticks to his forehead and his face is flushed. He feels himself grow warmer too.
"Why did you want to come watch me?" Minghao bluntly asks, wiping at his face with a towel and avoiding eye contact.
"I just... missed hanging out with you, I guess." Mingyu knows he should apologize. He knows he should admit how weird it was for him to do that and lament on how sorry he feels, how he doesn't want to ruin or mess up their friendship because he is an idiot... but instead he starts talking about his stupid condition. He doesn't even ease into the topic by posing a question or picking Minghao's brain; he just launches into being able to jump back in time and do things differently. Not all things, just some things, things that seem to have to do with Minghao.
He expects to be laughed at or have something thrown at his head, a physical reaction like Wonwoo would give him because that's one of their biggest similarities. But all Minghao does is sit down next to him and take a sip from his water bottle.
"So uh, is that how you knew I had been really wanting Chinese food around Christmas? And how I was thinking about you that night you came to my window and sneaked in?"
Mingyu's neck all but snaps as he looks over at him. "What? No... what? I mean I can't read minds or something. I just... if it happens, I know the universe or whatever wants me to do something different." His mind is whirling and he doesn't know where to start. "You were thinking about me that night?"
Minghao laughs, light and airy. "Yeah, I decided I was gonna swing by your place in the morning because I just... really wanted to hang out, I guess? I don't know. But then there you were, like my thoughts had conjured you up."
If it weren't for the other parts of his life that were so strange, Mingyu might have found that coincidence odd. Instead the idea of Minghao thinking of him and wanting to see him makes his stomach bubble in a very pleasant but different way. It's also not lost on him that the other boy seems to accept what he's been told without even really questioning it.
When Minghao asks him what it feels like when it happens, he can't help but smile. "Like this," he tells him, lifting his arm to drag the tip of his finger lightly down the curve of the other's back. He shivers and it has Mingyu's smile breaking out into a full on grin.
"I'm serious."
"I am being serious."
Minghao looks at him then, as if he's considering something heavily, and Mingyu braces for a flick to the forehead or a shove of his shoulder. But before he can ask what's on his mind, their lips are pressed together and he feels it: that oh so familiar tingle dancing along the back of his torso and he's afraid to open his eyes because he's worried he's lost it, that the moment is gone forever and the universe is telling him to change something so the kiss doesn't exist.
But when he finally lets his eyes flutter open, tentatively, all he sees is an amused looking Minghao mere centimeters from his face. When he's kissed again, he braces for the shift that never comes along with the sensation that spreads throughout him. The warmth and buzzing hits him again and again and again, until he disassociates the shivers completely.
Time stays firm to its line and when Minghao asks him if it happened, he laughs and replies with a kiss of his own.