Chapter Text
Turbulence
Mingi is the most aware of himself doing a bad job at being an adult when Yunho is in Japan. In Japan without him, that is. Yunho loves Japan. He even goes the extra mile to study Japanese even harder than the rest of them. To ATINY they say it’s so Yunho can communicate with Japanese ATINY better, or because he’s dipping his toes into TV presenting more. But in reality as far as Yunho is concerned, he’d be in Japan every single free second of his life.
And it’s endearing. It really is. Mingi loves the sparkle in Yunho’s eyes from the moment they buy their flight tickets to the time they stand in the queue for airport security up until it explodes into firework when they exit the aircraft and their feet touch Japanese soil. It makes him happy to see Yunho this happy, and all the more it makes him sad whenever their schedule doesn’t allow him to witness it. Because Mingi has a job back at home in Seoul or rap recordings are on the studio timeline.
Sometimes it gives him irrational anxiety, even an unpreventable jealousy that’s entirely unfair to Yunho and ridiculously target-less, when Yunho - of course - still goes on with it and enjoys his time in Japan alone or with Japan-hyung, while Mingi sits on a chair in hair and make-up before being shot for this magazine or the other. Makes him think thoughts like ‘Yunho doesn’t care whether he’s with him or not’, ‘It’s not really important whether Mingi is able to keep up with him anymore these days’ and so on, that he fucking hates and knows in his right mind are unjustified and just his fear of separation speaking. And he knows he should probably finally talk to Yunho about it, but he’s just so damn embarrassed by his inability to be an adult about it all and by his dependency on him after all this time of doing what they do and being through what they’ve been through. He is twenty-five years old, goddamn it. He’s not fourteen anymore, in need of hiding behind his best friend who would’ve probably so desperately needed to hide behind him too, from time to time.
And yet, whenever Yunho is missing from his periphery, Mingi feels lost. He has long begun to wonder whether this is still for the reason of needing to hide behind his friend’s back, even after years of not only building a broader, sturdier frame, but also a mind that’s aspiring to follow suit. If he’s being completely honest with himself, he kind of knows it’s something else at this point in time. Something he every so often realises, not least because Wooyoung likes to very intently raise his aggressively sharp eyebrows at him or Hongjoong-hyung gives him pity looks from time to time. Seonghwa is even worse with those because he lives with him. Puts every motherly concerned worldly wisdom into one single look whenever he finds him on the couch pouting, because Yunho is once again posting pictures from the Japanese seaside in his ridiculously oversized jumper, hair unkempt under a baseball cap and face bare, flushed from the salty ocean air and divine.
‘Just landed in Narita 😊🖤 ’ he reads Yunho’s text from five minutes ago, staring a bit too long at the black heart he adorned the information with. He’s always been very deliberate with the use of cutesy displays of affection, much like in real life, and he doesn’t think anything of it at all. Mingi thinks a lot of it, basically everything, especially when Yunho’s not there to give him confused puppy eyes about it.
He looks around in a sudden flight of embarrassment, momentarily wary of being caught doing literally nothing of concern while inside him the things of concern are exploding. But Seonghwa is nowhere in sight. Thank fuck. He can't bear one of his mother-knows looks right now.
His fingers hover over the on-screen keyboard. It’s suddenly very hard to write a simple thanks-for-the-update message, basically impossible. It’s absolutely unthinkable to write a have-fun message. He’s gonna have fun anyway, without him telling him to do so.
Mingi knows he’s being unfair. And oh so very childish. But he thinks he probably simply has to accept that he’s being unfair and childish right now because he can’t change it. Sometimes even your best mental work is not enough when you’re unreasonably and helplessly overwhelmed with that thing you ever so often realise, even without Wooyoung’s raised eyebrow or Hongjoong and Seonghwa-hyung’s pity looks.
He kicks himself in the butt and types ‘I’m glad’ and then he locks his phone. Being everything but glad.
“Did you miss me?” Yunho asks, chuckling as the hair on the back of Mingi’s head tickles his nose as he wraps himself around him.
“Like crazy.” Mingi replies into his shoulder. It’s not even a lie but he can easily mask it as one in the playful nature of their reunion.
They’re inseparable the whole way home from the airport and it’s not unusual for them, especially Mingi, to be clingy after not seeing each other for a while, so Yeosang only gives them mild eyes through the rear-view mirror during their taxi drive. He came along to pick Yunho up stating that he’d locked himself out of their apartment this morning and like this he can also help him with his luggage. But Mingi, knowing Yeosang and how they definitely have a spare set of keys deposited in the company building, suspects it’s more of a security don’t-cause-a-scene-you-two decision and he’s honestly thankful for him. He was also the only thing that determined their exact destination when Yunho, still with happy glossed-over eyes, beamed at him “Let’s go home.” And Mingi’s brain tasted too long of the definition of ‘home’ and whether it meant Yunho’s apartment or Mingi’s apartment, or the entire bandwidth of what it could mean for them.
So, Yeosang forgot his keys at home and they’re going to Yunho’s apartment. Maybe it’s better that way. Yunho’s tapping at the end of a very long day. He is positively bushed as they get in the car, Yeosang in the passenger seat to direct the driver, Mingi and Yunho in the back. And he’s instantly knocked out as soon as the vehicle starts moving, arms hugged around himself in his sweater, his head dropped onto Mingi’s shoulder.
Mingi looks at him. Fights the smile stealing itself onto his lips in tandem with the way emotions make his heart soft and heavy. He sees Yeosang looking at him through the mirror but for some reason the expected urge to avert his eyes, pretend that smile never happened, doesn’t shake him. Yeosang just looks, gives him his own tiny compassionate smile, and then proceeds to talk to the driver. Hm.
And Mingi decides for once that this is not a big deal, lowers his head to lean against Yunho’s, and places his hand on the other’s knee for good measure. If Yunho weren’t knocked out cold, he’d swear he heard him let out a little sigh at that. And if Yeosang hadn’t also leaned his head against the glass of the car window, he’d swear he’s still smiling.
“You can stay if you want to,” Mingi hears Yeosang say as he finds him slumped on the couch with his arms outstretched and eyes closed. His voice is low and soft, so as not to startle him from his drowsy state. They helped Yunho sort his most important things, bathroom stuff, throwing his used clothes in the washing machine, and then sent him straight to bed. Now his door is closed and Mingi decided to rest his eyes and heavy limbs for a few minutes on the couch and then make the way downstairs to his own apartment.
He opens one eye after the other and turns his head over his shoulder to Yeosang, standing at the far end of the living room, holding a big bowl of what smells like bibimbap. Mingi’s stomach growls as if by command. “Nah, I just wanted to get going,” he replies, stretching his arms and shoulders.
Yeosang takes a moment to pause and look at him, almost as if asking him if he has any food at home. Then he nods and continues to stir the bibimbap. Mingi is slow to get up from the familiar comfortableness of the couch and it gives Yeosang another opportunity. “When are you going to tell him about your issue with him going to Japan alone?”
Mingi wants to dart his head, shoot Yeosang a death glare for calling him out so plainly, but when he turns around, just like in his voice, he finds only gentleness in Yeosang’s eyes. The initial feeling of betrayal after thinking at least Yeosang won’t press the non-issue almost immediately subsides. He takes a breath and tries to give a normal answer.
“He’s not alone. And I also don’t have an issue with it.”
Yeosang raises his eyebrows. And if he were Wooyoung, those raised eyebrows would be ones of judgement. But Yeosang’s are just enquiring.
“It’s not that bad,” Mingi says, still trying to keep his tone as casual as possible, but Yeosang probably read him minutes ago.
“It’s really bad, Mingi-ya,” he states. He looks like he’s planning to put the bowl down and give him a lecture, albeit a well-meaning one. “You always miss him like he’s not coming back. We all miss him. But you’re pretty bad. You have to talk to him.”
Mingi wants to throw his hands in the air and kick the coffee table and tell him he can’t do that, it won’t make a difference, and he’s also got it all wrong. But he just sighs and drops back down onto the couch. Yeosang finally sets the bowl aside on the dinner table. But he stays in his spot. He gives Mingi space. Mingi appreciates it. Out of all people, he wouldn’t have expected to have this conversation with Yeosang.
“I don’t want to spoil his fun.” Mingi starts. He knows how Yunho is, he knows if he asked he would drop everything and stay and cancel all his plans and sacrifice all the good times ahead just for him. He doesn’t want to take too much away from him, take up too much space, even more than he already does, as far as he can prevent it. Doesn’t want to be the shackle weighing him down. “Besides, he’s having a great time without me.”
“Mingi…” Yeosang’s voice is still gentle, but with a hue of empathetic determination, finally, the thing Mingi’s been waiting for. The thing that should infuriate him because he doesn’t want empathy. He doesn’t deserve empathy for acting like a child. But coming from Yeosang, it makes him feel seen. In a good way. He knows he’s talking nonsense again and he’s fighting it. Doesn’t want Yeosang to think he needs to be mothered. He’s going to have a good share of that when he gets home.
“Look, I know what your silly brain is doing right now. And I’m asking it to stop that,” Yeosang says after letting him sulk for a bit. “Cause there’s two things Jeong Yun Ho talks about nonstop. And that’s Japan and Song Min Gi. I’d say chances are pretty high he best likes those two things combined.”
Mingi scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” And he concentrates so fucking hard on not blushing like a literal school girl at Yeosang’s matter of fact tone. He hears the clattering of chopsticks as Yeosang finally resumes stirring the cooling ingredients. And he sounds a lot like Wooyoung when he says “I’m always right. And now we’re going to eat bibimbap.”
Months pass, they play a portion of their current tour, shoot a music video and a magazine feature and when it’s finally time for their long-awaited short trip to Tokyo, Mingi has to cancel again. He landed himself a job for a highly prestigious fashion designer he already forgot having his application sent in for and he has to stay in Seoul.
Yunho asks if he wants him to rebook and gives him such a pity look that Mingi has to put his everything into lying to his best friend, something he never does, and tells him that it’s fine, he can go without him. (Again.) And Mingi just wants to cry at this point. But Yunho’s face lights up and soon he is packing enthusiastically and an ulcer starts to grow in Mingi’s stomach.
He sends him his usual ‘I’ve landed’ text and then Mingi doesn’t hear from him for a week. Yunho posts his usual envy-inducing photos of himself being happy and handsome climbing some mountain or jumping around at the shore like a bouncy ecstatic puppy, but he doesn’t send him pictures of his food or a street sign he found entertaining or how his hair sticks up in a funny way in the morning. And Mingi doesn’t think anything of it, at all. He doesn’t wait for Yunho’s texts, doesn’t get ridiculed by San and Wooyoung for staring at his phone in blank space when they sit together at the dinner table for movie night.
“The princess is lovesick,” coos Wooyoung and Mingi gestures slapping him across the head but then they all laugh. Mingi laughs too. He’s so grateful for his friends. And then they watch that movie and he forgets about his phone for two hours.
He is reminded of its existence when Wooyoung leaves, decently inebriated and clearly relying a bit too heavily on living just across the hallway.
“Shush, Woo, you can thank Isabel Marant that Seonghwa-hyung isn’t here tonight or he would’ve given you a proper scolding,” San exclaims, similar in volume and similar in blood alcohol level.
“You’re both too loud,” says Mingi and flicks both their ears to make them jump in their spot. He smiles, so very tired and then opens the door for Wooyoung. “Get over quietly or I’ll kick you both out.”
Wooyoung laughs heartily, drapes himself all over him and kisses his cheek. “Sorry Minkku, I know you’re a bit delicate right now because the big bear’s not around.”
Mingi flicks him again and gravels “Shut up, Wooyoung” into his ear. He nudges his head. “Sleep well, okay?”
And Wooyoung nods, clumsily fist bumps San and then he’s out the door and across the hallway and they hear the faint sound of the keys rattling and then the door clicking shut.
“We had a lot to drink, huh?” San asks, leaning against the wall.
Mingi checks the clock on the wall showing almost three. “Yeah. We all did. But thank you, seriously.”
San looks back and forth between him and the clock, eyes slightly glazed over. “Thank you for what?”
“Just thank you. I’m going to bed.” And with that Mingi nods to him and disappears in the bathroom.
When he gets out again, the lights in the living room have been switched off and he hears nothing but the low buzzing of the fridge. So San has gone to sleep too. Good. He checks the door safety lock for any alcohol induced inattention and then makes his way to his room, closes the door behind him and finally fishes the phone out of his pocket.
Miraculous how he actually forgot about it for a while, thanks to his friends being loud and engaging. It was a nice diversion. But now he has to wake the damned thing and check his lock screen.
2 missed calls from Hongjoong. Shit. What the fuck?
The last one is from eleven minutes ago. What the fuck?
He calls back. Waits for the dial tone. And Hongjoong accepts after the fourth.
“Mingi-ya,” he greets him.
“Hyung?”
“How’re you doing?”
“Joongie-hyung, it’s three in the morning.”
“And yet you’re awake.”
“Woosan and I had a movie night. Are you drunk?”
“Are you?”
Mingi shakes his head. Sees some blurred stars at the corners of his vision. Nods. Hongjoong can’t even see him. Idiot .
“A bit.”
He hears him chuckle at the other end. “Look, I’ve wanted to check in on you. See how you’re holding up without the other twin.”
Mingi almost crumbles to the floor. He can’t be serious.
“You sure you’re not projecting because Seonghwa-hyung is in Paris?” he manages to retort. His cheeks feel very hot and his head also spins a lot more than it should. Damned alcohol. He didn’t even drink that much.
Hongjoong is chuckling again, cackling actually and Mingi knows he’s hit the nerve. “God, Joong, we’re pathetic.” He sighs and sinks down on one side of the bed, kicking his lounge pants off laboriously while listening to his hyung almost choking on his laughter.
“We’re the worst.” He coughs. Audibly tries to collect himself. “Seriously though, Mangi-ya, you should find time to go on holiday together. I mean it. You don’t want to hear it, but Yunho will realise that Japan is beautiful without you.”
And Mingi wants to die. His entire body starts burning, starting from his chest where he believes will reside only a chunk of coal when it’s done.
“Hyung, you can’t just say that.” His voice is leaden and barren of emotion. Hongjoong means it in such a different way and yet he said exactly what Mingi has been dreading his own head screaming at him for the past- half a year or so.
“You know I mean well.” Hongjoong says, now all serious, at the other end. Waits for him to respond. Suddenly sounds the opposite of drunk, all Captain and all dad. “You might think no one notices but you had to cancel your plans three times in a row and it shows.”
“I didn’t want Yunho to reschedule.” Mingi relents. He scoots up on the bed to rest his back against the headboard.
“Yes you did.”
Fuck. He hates Hongjoong sometimes.
“Joongie-hyung…”
“Listen, Mingi. I hate talking to you like this and I bet I’m not the only one appealing to your conscience, but it’s not a bad thing, okay? Tell Yunho you don’t want him to go without you. Tell him to wait until you’re both able to go. You know him, he will literally get on the next plane back if you ask.”
And that’s the problem, he wants to say. That’s always been the problem and Mingi doesn’t want to be the problem. What if Yunho secretly takes offence at him asking to rebook, he wants to say. What if Yunho won’t come back one day like Yeosang accused him of acting like it, he wants to say.
But what he says instead is “It’s not a big deal, hyung. Seriously. I’m just overworked and I was looking forward to the trip and now he went alone because I told him it’s fine. Yes, I’m sad I couldn’t go. Yes, I wished I was in Tokyo right now. Yes, I’m a bit crossed at him for not texting at all.”
“Mangi-ya, you’re babbling,” Hongjoong giggles. And Mingi experiences three sets of contrast shower. He fucking hates his hyung for making him talk while seriously very not-sober. And hates himself for just completely losing it.
“Hope you’re happy now,” he sighs, utterly exasperated. He hears Hongjoong chuckle a bit more, then regulate himself and Mingi hears the contented smile in his voice when he says “Very. Now get some sleep and think about what I said.”
Mingi is sure he will think about that for the rest of his life.
“Yeah,” he replies. Stretches his legs out and under the duvet, gradually sliding down to bring his head to lie on the giant fluffy pillow.
“Rest well and I’ll see you later at the studio.” Hongjoong says. His voice is now soft and sincere and all back to Captain.
“You too.” Mingi hears the sleepiness in his own words. “And I swear, if anyone hears of this conversation I’ll tell Seonghwa-hyung that you called at three in the morning because you missed him.”
Hongjoong cackles. And he hangs up.
Yunho comes back from Japan right in time for their next release. And he looks devastatingly dashing. Despite the little grudge he still holds about not hearing from him the entire time, Mingi is at the ready to pick him up from the airport and he is greeted with such a sight, despite having crumpled on an airplane seat for the past three hours, that he considers clawing his eyes out. Or his heart. Because what it prompts him to do is scream from the top of his lungs how handsome, amazing, dazzling, beautiful his best friend is and last time he checked that was not normal friendship behaviour. They tell each other they look stunning all the time, Wooyoung has a whole dictionary of words he uses to praise his friends, but Mingi wants to look Yunho in the eyes and tell him he’s the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on. And he seriously needs to get help.
“God, I could sleep for a week!” Yunho exclaims as Mingi wordlessly takes the handle of his suitcase from his hands, swallowing hard around the giant lump in his throat. “Why are you even here, didn’t you just get back from-“
“Ilsan. Yeah. It’s not a problem.”
And it’s true. Mingi’s own train back to Seoul arrived four hours ago and he is a walking corpse. But he had to see Yunho, see if there’s anything different about him, about them. And somehow there is, while there isn’t.
“Missed you,” he says before he can stop it. Thankfully he is tired enough that the words come out sounding almost in passing.
Yunho laughs, hooks his arm under Mingi’s and nudges him. “Bet you did.”
“Your hair,” Mingi starts and trails off, gesturing with half an arm connected to a suitcase handle.
“Oh yeah? I dyed it again. I liked the colour.”
Mingi likes the colour too, it’s one of the best on him. He nods, trying to keep up with Yunho’s pace. The fucker lets him drag around his suitcase and then starts a sprint.
“You sure you wanna drive?” Mingi asks for the, maybe, fifth time as Yunho unlocks the car he booked over his car sharing app.
“Mingya, I’ve sat in a plane for three hours, I’m not immobilised. Get in the car.” Yunho shakes his head at him and Mingi feels a bit smaller than usual. He holds his hands up in surrender and as he catches Yunho’s big toothy grin, he has to smile too.
They sit in the car in comfortable silence, the radio on a low, calming volume, Yunho humming along every other song and Mingi tapping his fingers on the dashboard. That is, until Yunho decides to break the comfortable part about it.
“Sorry for not texting,” he says, offering an apologetic smile Mingi sees in the corner of his eye. “I was a bit distracted.”
Mingi gulps. He Gods on Earth prays it wasn’t noticeable to Yunho with his eyes on the street.
“It’s fine, no worries,” he replies. Nothing’s fine and all the worries. He glances at him under his lashes. Heavens, how is he so beautiful after probably last showering the night before, throwing on his most baggy comfy flight clothes and fixing his hair effortlessly with a few bobby pins that got loose after shifting around in the airplane seat. It’s outrageously unfair.
Distracted , he says. Mingi’s ulcer has grown fangs and horns and a tail by now and he has to look away, out the window following the passing buildings and street signs, before he clutches at his stomach.
Hongjoong’s words decide for the worst moment to echo in his head. About Yunho realising that Japan is beautiful without him.
And even if? What business has he to become a literal angelic being in sweatpants over the course of one week?
“Mingya,” Yunho startles him out of his downward spiral, “you spacing out? Are you okay?” He smiles a lopsided Yunho-smile but there’s also a tint of worry laced into the words.
“I’m just so freakin’ tired, Yun.” Mingi yawns, silently thanking his body for producing that, and he honestly is. It’s been a long day, for both of them. That’s certainly also why his head is running wild right now.
“You look worse than me,” Yunho confirms, giving him a quick side glance before fixing his eyes back on the queueing traffic ahead. His grin is bigger and his voice louder as they’re getting closer to home.
“That’s not hard,” Mingi mumbles. And Yunho actually, effectively bursts into laughter at that. Very over the top, Jeong Yun Ho, but so very welcome.
“I can’t wait to get all this shit off and just drop dead,” Yunho laughs, catching his breath. “Let’s sleep at my place tonight.”
Mingi pauses, looks over at him and Yunho’s smiley but dead serious.
“Are you insane? Yeosang’s gonna kick me out after what happened last time.”
Good job Mingi, playing it cool A-plus.
“He can try and then he’ll eat the next pillow.”
They don’t talk about Japan after that. In fact, they rarely talk at all. They get in and out of studio every once in a while, Yunho has editorials, Mingi goes to art museums. They play a few shows here and there, present their new single, go live from their hotel rooms while the others are out for dinner. And somehow there’s always something blocking the way for their eyes to meet, a bright effect light, Jongho jumping into position to deliver the killing note, a stage prop.
And if he’s being honest, Mingi thinks he’s creating half these blockages himself. For some reason he’s reluctant to face Yunho. Now that his ulcer has grown into a full-blown demon in his stomach and it somehow strangles him from inside, making it absolutely impossible to talk to Yunho about it. He doesn’t even know what it is that he’s so afraid of. They’ve always talked about everything. Even when he was basically physically unable to voice his problems and deepest thoughts back when he was at his absolute worst- he could still always communicate with Yunho.
And then again he kind of knows exactly what it is that he’s afraid of.
One of these days Yunho’s lounging on the far end of the couch in Seonghwa, San and Mingi’s living room, long legs lazily splayed across the furniture, head rested against the cushioned armrest and laptop sitting on his stomach. Mingi steals a glance at him when he strolls to the kitchen to get water, slight bedhead and crooked glasses, pants barely clinging to his hips (he has to eat more after tour).
He didn’t even know Yunho was to come over today. That’s how little they talk these days.
Apparently Seonghwa had him swing by so they could revisit some lines from their recent recording. Yunho’s doing a lot of vocal work on this comeback and he asked for feedback. Ever so eager to improve. Mingi admires that about him. He could never.
His trail of thought is cut short as San also enters the kitchen, whistling and humming like he’s having a good old time. “Oh, you emerged from your man cave!” he exclaims and Mingi wants to shush him, but it’s already too late.
Yunho’s looking their way, instant sparkle in his eyes at the slight surprise of seeing him.
“Mingya! I didn’t know you were home!” he lilts. Quelle surprise, we haven’t talked in a month.
“Yeah, I’m also not really, I was just-“
Yunho sits up straight and puts the laptop aside on the coffee table. “Seonghwa-hyung and I are doing vocal revisions, you can join if you want to!”
Mingi fumbles with his hands, alternating between scratching the back of his head and trying to shift his glasses into position and somehow failing to do either.
“Sannie is also in.”
As if to confirm Yunho’s words, San pirouettes around him, boasting the chorus of their new Japanese ballad in definitely the most wrong pitch.
“Oh, no, I was just- I’ll just make us some gimbap.” Mingi mumbles and is ready to disappear behind the door of the fridge when Yunho gets up, stretching his limbs, yawning.
“You’re a saint,” he says, rolling his neck and shoulders, and everyone knows Yunho must really love Mingi, because everyone also knows how bad Mingi is at putting food in edible shape when he’s tired.
Seonghwa finally appears from inside the bathroom and makes way for Yunho to replace his spot in there, he shuffles through San and Mingi to get a bottle of vitamin water from the fridge, effectively making Mingi move out a bit towards the living area.
“It’s all coming together nicely. Hongjoong will be happy.” Seonghwa says, taking a sip from the water and waving the notebook pages around he conjured in his other hand. “You should listen to it, Min-a.”
Mingi shrugs his shoulders, staring into the void. “I’m cooking.”
“I’m sure you are!” jokes San, still spinning around and shouting wrong lyrics and wrong notes, tapping Seonghwa’s chest and bicep in a beat he definitely made up. And he also definitely spends too much time with Wooyoung. “Just make sure you don’t put Nutella in them or hyung will put you through the mincer like Yeosang.”
And Seonghwa smacks him across the head at that and they both laugh and Mingi would’ve probably also laughed if not at this very second he noticed what’s being displayed on Yunho’s laptop screen.
He’s not sure if he moves towards it or the world decided to do a very cinematic tele-zoom on his inner eye, but there he sees it, clearly and crisp right before him.
Japan’s ‘foreigner-friendly’ housing website.
And Mingi swears, something deep inside him gets killed by the ulcer.