Chapter Text
“Alright everyone, huddle up,” Chan calls out to the field. Minho wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and jogs off the pitch and to the man. It’s his third year of playing for Yonsei University’s soccer team, but he feels like a rookie all over again. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s finally his senior year and the imposter syndrome is creeping in, making him feel like he’s someone that he’s not: someone experienced and educated, fit to lead.
Only he’s not a leader at all. For some reason, Minho was bypassed for the role in favour of his sophomore best friend, Han Jisung. Sure, he’s not the only leader of their team — there’s Hongjoong too — but for some reason, experience didn’t matter where the team was concerned. Minho wouldn’t say the votes were the result of a popularity contest, but he’s also not saying that, because who wouldn’t be a little in love with Han Jisung?
Minho’s definitely not immune.
Minho’s practically been in love with Jisung since the moment he met him. The second that he stumbled onto the field, tripped over himself, and then proceeded to laugh it off by telling enough jokes to fuel a small comedy show. It was pathetic, but also so fucking adorable, that Minho’s ice cold heart immediately melted into a puddle of mush.
The only problem is that Jisung has eyes for one person and one person only — Kim Seungmin. Fucking Kim Seungmin. The sweeper’s personality can only be described as a loose screw in Minho’s eyes, but for some reason Jisung’s head over heels for him, and it shows in their stupid team relationship. The other members call them their lucky charm, destined to be together forever.
If only they knew the truth.
Minho shakes the thoughts from his head as he drops down to the ground, grabbing the water bottle from his bag so he can chug it down, savouring every last bit of hydration after sweating his ass off on the field. He pays no mind as the others make their way over, Felix and Hyunjin animatedly talking to each other about how excited they are for the new school year. They all moved in two weeks before the start of the school year for practise, but now the campus is starting to come back to life as the rest of the students finally join them.
“What’s up, coach?” Hongjoong declares loud enough to make it a point that he’s going to take full advantage of his captain status this year. He was still a co-captain the year before, but since BamBam graduated, he wants everyone to know that he’s in charge, especially Seonghwa, who has his own little gaggle of followers within the group. ‘Followers’ is probably a strong term, but the sophomores weirdly love him, and again, Minho gets it, he’s just not in love with him too.
“I have some news to share, obviously,” Chan replies with a small grin before their assistant coach pulls out a folded piece of paper.
“Hyung, who prints things out anymore?” Wooyoung declares with a scoff. “It’s 2025, get with the program.”
Minho hears a yelp from behind him and he doesn’t have to turn around to know that Hongjoong smacked the man for his insolence. A good choice, honestly. If Minho were in his position, he’d probably shove the hand towel in his bag down his throat instead, so it’s probably for the best that he didn’t make co-captain.
“Thanks for that,” Chan mumbles to Hongjoong, keeping his tone light and pleasant. Minho wonders how many times Chan has wanted to hit all of them, but then stops that train of thought when he realises it’s probably too many to count on the entire team’s hands. He tosses his water back into the bag and pushes himself to his feet as Chan unfolds the paper.
“So you all know the season’s starting in a few weeks,” he tells the team. There’s a series of murmurs and nods of agreement before Chan continues. “To prepare, I’ve been reaching out to teams in the area to see who’s interested in a pre-season match or two.”
“And?” Seungmin calls out. “Please tell me we’re going somewhere warm.”
Chan quirks a brow at the interruption, but continues on. “We’re going to China for an international friendly with Shenyang University.”
There’s a series of mixed reactions, some groans combined with neutral noises, and one very excited Felix who says, “I can’t wait to go to China!” as he bounces on the balls of his feet. Honestly, if he wasn’t such a wonderful ray of sunshine on their team, Minho would probably hate him. It’s impossible to do so when he literally radiates light. The word of God part, though… He deals with it.
“Hyung…” Hongjoong sounds wary as he starts to speak but he’s effectively cut off by a new voice.
“I think that sounds pretty cool.” Minho’s heart rate instantly picks up as the sound of Jisung’s voice hits his ears. Of course Jisung would think it’s cool. “I’m pretty sure they played against China’s top university.”
“And lost miserably,” Seungmin cuts in as he slings an arm around Jisung’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. Minho grimaces. Fucking Kim Seungmin. He would know that, nerd.
“I think travelling to another country could be fun.” Minho turns his attention to the speaker, weakly smiling. Jeongin, sweet baby Jeongin, a child bred from nepotism with a side of talent. Minho’s always liked him. He’s known the freshman since he was still in high school and trying to get into Yonsei, the younger following his dad around like a lost child while Coach Yang showed him around campus and watched his highlight reel.
He’s definitely grown into his looks since then, developing from a fluffy ball of yeast to a full loaf of bread. He has nothing on his step-brother, but Minho likes Jeongin better than him. He’s at the point where he’ll likely take the freshman under his wing for the rest of the year.
“The baby’s right,” their goalie Changbin says. “If they want us to come and the university’s paying for it, why not go?”
Chan lets out a surprised laugh but he grins a tiny bit, eyes scrunching up at the chain of positive reactions. “That’s the way to think about it!” He reaches out and pats the shoulders of those nearest him, Yunho taking it like a champion while Jisung acts like he dropped a hundred pound weight onto him, wincing and scurrying back to the protection of his boyfriend. “Everyone rest up today, be back bright and early tomorrow. We’re going to play practice games for the rest of the week until we leave.”
“Wait, a week?!” Yeosang pipes up, eyes practically bulging out of his skull. “Hyung, classes start in two days. Are we going to miss school?”
“One day,” Chan tells them. “But we’ll get the proper excuses for your professors and we’ll have you back on Sunday, don’t worry.” Yeosang definitely looks worried, Minho thinks as he watches the younger pace in place, bumping into Changbin twice before the buff man pulls him into his arms and holds him still. Minho vaguely wonders if there’s something going on there.
”I’ll email out the schedule tonight,” Chan tells them all. “Any questions?” There’s quiet mumbles, but no one outright asks anything. Minho’s surely not going to. When Chan doesn’t get a single question, he looks a little disappointed but not surprised. “Alright, go clean up and get out of here. Coach Yang and I will see you bright and early at 6am.”
That earns a groan from the team. Morning practices are the worst and they all know it, but morning practises are going to be their lives for the next few months. For some reason the university loves scheduling them in the morning instead of at night; something about the field hockey team needing the later hours.
Minho grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder, not waiting for anyone to join him as he makes his way to the locker rooms. He’s always been a bit of a loner on this team, but over the years he’s gotten a little better with it. At least these days he no longer tenses up the moment an arm’s thrown around his shoulders.
Speaking of, he does an amazing job of controlling himself when a sweaty body presses against his side, that is until he looks over to find Jisung’s shining eyes staring right back at him. His heart rate jumps, the organ lodging itself in his throat and he almost forgets to keep walking as Jisung tugs him along.
“We’re going to China!” he says eagerly. “Isn’t that exciting, hyung?”
“Sure,” Minho says as casually as he can when his heart’s running a marathon in his chest. He might be going into cardiac arrest right now, he doesn’t even know, but he’d rather die by Jisung’s side than miss a moment with him.
“Come on,” Jisung coos, stopping to pinch at Minho’s cheek. The man instinctively slaps him away but Jisung comes right back, pinching Minho’s sweaty cheek once again until it turns red from the restriction of blood flow. “Cheer up, hyung. A whole weekend in another country, and we’ll crush them too.”
“You’re overestimating our team, Jisungie,” Minho points out. “We’re still struggling with our midline, and Jeonginie isn’t ready to sub in for any of them at this point. He’s good, but he’s got nothing against experienced players. We’re just lucky that we’re playing against a shit team rather than a strong one.”
“Yeah, BIT would probably destroy us.” Minho grumbles under his breath when Seungmin joins them, falling in step with the two. “Remember that friendly we had with them last year before regionals?”
“I try to forget it and yet you won’t stop bringing it up,” Minho replies in a flat tone. “What do you want, Kim Seungmin?”
“My boyfriend, Lee Minho,” Seungmin replies, flashing a grin at him that makes Minho’s stomach twist with anger. This fucking man. “You stole him from me.”
“Actually, I came over to hyung,” Jisung chimes in. He drops his arm and Minho misses the warmth as they step into the locker room and part ways to get showered and changed.
Minho quietly fumes through his entire shower as Jisung and Seungmin spend theirs flirting with each other. Their voices echo off the titles for the entire team to hear, but no one ever seems as bothered by them as Minho is.
After turning off the water, he lingers in the shower a moment longer, taking a few deep breaths to try and soothe the storm raging inside him. The others are talking about their upcoming trip when he finally steps out and starts drying off. Jisung and Seungmin are already dressed, but that hasn’t stopped them from not-so-secretly groping each other. Seungmin’s gaze finds Minho’s while he rests a possessive hand on Jisung’s tiny waist, his lips quirking into a smirk. Clenching his jaw tightly, he looks away and busies himself with getting changed.
“Ready to go, baby?” Jisung asks his boyfriend sweetly, hanging off of him like a koala.
“You go ahead. I’ll meet you.”
Minho doesn’t think much of the interaction as he packs his duffle bag, but when he glances up, there’s Kim Seungmin looming over him. The locker room is eerily empty, and Minho knows exactly what’s going to happen next, but he still feels the need to ask.
“What do you want, Kim Seungmin?”
Seungmin’s eyes glitter mischievously, that same smirk still painted on his lips. “You know what I want.”
Seungmin swoops in, his eyes fluttering shut, but before their lips can meet, he puts a hand on the man’s chest and shoves him back. The locker room is dead silent, but Minho still quickly looks around to make sure there’s no witnesses.
“Not here,” he hisses.
Minho snakes a hand around Seungmin’s wrist and he quickly stands up, dragging him off to the supply closet down the hall and locking them inside. He just barely manages to flip the lock before Seungmin’s on him, pressing him into the door as lips crash into his and Minho eagerly kisses him back. The guilt roils in his stomach, just like it does every time they do this, but he forces it down as they strip out of their clothes and Seungmin pulls a condom from his pocket.
What Jisung doesn’t know won’t hurt him, Minho reminds himself, and he’ll never hurt Jisung. He loves him too much to ever do that.
ᯓ⚽︎ᯓ ✈︎
“Babe, where’s my super suit?” Chan calls out as he shoves the last of his clothing into his bag.
“What?”
“Where. Is. My. Super Suit?”
Laughter echoes from the hallway before his boyfriend steps into the room. Bambam grins a little bit as he steps over and wraps his arms around the man, pressing himself into Chan’s back before he kisses his cheek.
“Did you check the secret lair?” he teases fondly, breath tickling against his ear and causing a shiver to run down Chan’s spine.
Chan sighs deeply. “Fuck,” he breathes out. “I forgot we have one of those.” He turns in the man’s arms, smiling softly as he hooks his arms around Bambam’s shoulders, fingers curling into the hairs resting on the nape of his neck. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“It’s only two days, jagi,” Bambam reminds him, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “You’ll be gone and back before you know it, and then we can keep planning our engagement party.”
When Bambam finally graduated from university, they’d talked about getting engaged, but because of schedules and life and Chan’s grad school schedule, it kept getting put off. Now, however, they’re finally figuring it out so the two of them can take the next step together. Maybe the engagement won’t be a surprise to them, but it absolutely will be for the friends and family that they invite to witness it occur, and that’s half the fun.
“I still can’t believe that you’re going to China for a scrimmage,” Bambam tells him. “We never got to go anywhere fun for friendlies when I was in school.”
”You mean three months ago?” Chan teases fondly, switching to English. “And that’s straight up not true. We went to Japan, and I took you to Australia-“
”You took me to Australia,” Bambam reminds him. “Not the school.”
“It was for a footie match!” Chan laughs as he tugs Bambam in, kissing him quickly before he murmurs against his lips, “And to meet my parents, but is that really all that important?”
“My point still stands,” Bambam grumbles, putting on a dramatic pout, but his eyes are shining in amusement so he clearly isn’t that upset about it.
“Maybe, but if you were still on the team, it would be a lot harder for me to do this,” Chan murmurs before drawing Bambam closer and sealing their lips together in a deep kiss.
To be fair, Chan was doing a whole lot of this when Bambam was still on the team too, but it was much more frowned upon then, so they had to be discreet. It’s not like their age difference is remotely inappropriate — barely even a year — but Chan is still the assistant coach, so power imbalances and all that. He just loved Bambam too much to wait until he graduated.
“I do like doing this,” Bambam breathes between kisses, their lips coming together harder each time as his fingers tangle in Chan’s curls. “Still need that super suit?”
”What super suit?” Chan jokes and nudges Bambam closer to their bed until the man’s knees bump against the edge.
They fall onto the bed together, and Chan drapes himself over his future fiancé, their lips centimetres apart. For a moment, he just looks at Bambam, his gaze roaming over his gorgeous face. His heart feels impossibly big in his chest, so full of warmth and love for this man. Bringing a hand to his cheek, he dips down to kiss his forehead.
“I love you.”
Bambam smiles up at him and cradles the back of his neck, his thumb brushing over his baby hairs. “I love you too. Don’t have too much fun without me.”
“I could never,” Chan promises, blissfully unaware that his entire future is about to change.
ᯓ⚽︎ᯓ ✈︎
“Don’t forget to pack your medication.”
Seonghwa sighs, staring quietly down at the plate in front of him, the food barely touched despite having been here for nearly half an hour now. It’s just so hard to eat when everything feels like walking through a thick fog while weighing a thousand pounds. He supposes he understands it, though. Without the medication, his mood swings are unpredictable to say the least.
There was a time when Seonghwa thought he could see into the future. He’d get glimpses of images that hadn’t happened yet. His parents decided to bring him to a doctor after he screamed bloody murder in the car, only for a car crash to happen right in front of them seconds later. The doctor explained that Seonghwa was experiencing hallucinations, manifestations his brain was conjuring, and his brain couldn’t be trusted.
Seonghwa sets down his chopsticks and grabs his pill bottle, shaking it a few times as he listens to the soft rattle of a bottle with too-few pills. He twists the cap open and peers inside, quickly counting out enough pills to last him just over a week. He’ll need a refill as soon as he gets back from China, but it should be more than enough to last the trip.
“I have it right here,” he announces, waiving the bottle briefly as he glances over to his house manager. He knows that she means well, but no one is ever going to be an actual substitute for the parents that never want to be a part of his life. Seonghwa shouldn’t complain, he gets whatever he wants whenever he wants, but that doesn’t replace the lack of family who actually give a fuck about him.
He pushes away the rest of his breakfast, no longer hungry. “Can you call the driver?” he requests, pushing himself up from his seat. “I’ll be ready to leave in a few minutes.”
ᯓ⚽︎ᯓ ✈︎
“Jeongin-ah come on, we have to go !” Jeongin huffs out a noise of frustration as he stuffs the last bits and bobs into his suitcase. Maybe he’s overpacking, but it’s his first away game in another country, and he doesn’t really know what he’s going to need. Will he run through the ten pairs of underwear he just kind of tossed in there? Doubtful, but better than shitting himself aggressively and not having a spare pair to change into.
He doesn’t even have to look up to notice Yunho’s presence, his skin prickling a little bit the moment that he spots the man peek his head into his doorframe. It’s not that Jeongin has a built-in Yunho radar, but he really does feel like that sometimes, because he’s always hyper-aware of when the man is around, even if he sometimes he wishes he wasn’t.
“The plane isn’t scheduled to leave for another three hours, hyung,” Jeongin replies with a roll of his eyes. “Chill out. The airport’s a half hour away, we have plenty of time.”
“We have to stop by the university and pick up the supplies,” Yunho tells him, looking oddly like a golden retriever with his freshly dyed blonde hair. “Appa asked me to this morning.”
Appa. The unfriendly reminder rings in Jeongin’s head once again, just like it does every time that Yunho reminds them that they share a dad. It’s not like it’s anything new. Yunho’s been a part of his life since Jeongin turned seven. His dad came home one day and asked him if he wanted a brother and baby Jeongin jumped at the chance, because what kid wouldn’t want someone to play with when their only family is their workaholic dad?
“I thought he said Chan-hyung was going to pick those up on his way in,” Jeongin says as he grabs his toiletry bag and stuffs it into the suitcase, barely squishing it in around all of the clothing before he moves on to his backpack. He made sure to put an emergency change of clothes in there just in case they lose his suitcase. He knows it’s unlikely on their private plane, but Jeongin doesn’t trust it enough to risk it.
“He had to change his plans. He and appa are running to the store and grabbing snacks and electrolyte drinks since we can take them on the plane. Channie-hyung wants us to bring the practice net so we can set it up at the hotel.”
Jeongin scoffs. “It’s two days. Do they think we’re moving there?”
“Guess so,” Yunho says with a shrug before he tilts his head, watching as Jeongin shoves the book he was supposed to read for school into the bag before his gaze shifts to the bed. “Don’t forget Bok-ah.”
Jeongin pauses, shifting to stare at the teddy bear sitting on his bed. Bokshil has been in his life almost as long as Yunho has. On one of the first adventures they had as a new family, their parents took them to the seaside for a weekend trip. Jeongin stuffed his face with as much sugar as he could convince the adults to buy for him and played games at the arcade with Yunho until he ran out of his allowance. He spotted the fluffy bear as they were heading out and pouted over how cute it is, so Yunho took the last few won he still had with him and fed it into the machine, playing until the bear successfully was handed over to Jeongin. Bokshil is his most prized possession and also the start of what Jeongin’s pretty sure was the worst turning point in his life; falling in love with Jeong Yunho.
When he realises how long he’s been staring, Jeongin quickly shifts his attention back to his step-brother and grimaces. “Why would I need that?” he asks with a scoff. “I’m not a baby, hyung. Bok-ah only stays on my bed anymore because he looks good there, not because I sleep with him. It’s for aesthetic.”
Yunho lets out a huff of laughter before raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, Innie, whatever you say. I was just trying to help.” He pauses before adding. “Give me your suitcase, I’ll start loading the car so we can get out of here.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jeongin replies, his voice flat as he moves to zip up the suitcase. He really shouldn’t keep lashing out at Yunho for treating him like his little brother, because he is, but that doesn’t mean that Jeongin wants to be. He’s tired of Yunho seeing him as baby brother Jeongin, the seven-year-old who he once played with. He wants Yunho to see him as someone interesting, someone that he’d be attracted to, both romantically and otherwise.
It’ll never happen, but a Jeongin can dream.
He waits until Yunho takes the suitcase and disappears down the stairs to throw it into the car, practically holding his breath until he hears him lugging the bag downstairs. Only then does Jeongin look back at Bokshil and sigh quietly. The bear is practically boring their beady eyes into Jeongin’s soul, guilting him for how he just treated the fluffy creature. Bokshil didn’t deserve his attitude, but most things these days don’t, not even Yunho.
Jeongin reaches across the bed and grabs the bear, quietly staring it down. He smooths down the fur and fixes the little bow around its neck before hugging it to his chest. It’s not a substitution for Yunho, but it’s all he has, so he holds it tighter. After a few moments of standing there holding the bear, he makes some room in his backpack and tucks it inside.
He probably won’t even room with Yunho in China — in fact, Jeongin will probably get stuck with their dad unless someone takes pity on him and picks him as their roommate. Yunho will never have to know that there’s one more passenger on their flight than they thought.
ᯓ⚽︎ᯓ ✈︎
Wooyoung doesn’t mind trips. In fact, he loves them. There’s something about getting to go on an adventure and explore the world that lights a fire in his veins, but he also knows that going anywhere is risky for him. His legal documents are always questioned, and every trip is a risk of being not only noticed, but negatively perceived.
It’s been better lately, especially since he was able to get his legal markers changed when he became an adult, but Wooyoung still fears the possibility of someone knowing what he really is and seeing him as lower than human. He’s tired of being called ‘it.’
He zips his bag shut and glances down at the checklist on his phone that he shares with San to make sure that he got everything. They started this last year for away games, making sure that they’ve got everything. Despite that, one of them manages to forget something every single time, but it’s usually not the biggest deal. The time that Wooyoung forgot his phone charger, though. That was unpleasant.
Wooyoung skims the list, checking off everything before pausing. His finger lingers over the checkbox next to the word, ‘tampons.’ It’s only then that he realises that he doesn’t remember the last time that he’s had to use one. His periods are light these days, barely around thanks to the hormones, but they’re still around, or so he thought.
He flicks through his phone, switching over to the section he keeps all his generic phone apps in and scrolls to the last page, opening his cycle tracker. It’s been ages since he’s clicked on this thing, but Wooyoung’s been chalking that up to the combination of exercise and his medication. He just hasn’t needed to use it lately.
He clicks back through the calendar to see when he last entered information, scrolling back to January before he finally finds an entry. It’s been almost eight weeks since then.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
Wooyoung’s probably overthinking it. It’s probably nothing, just a missed cycle or two, no big deal. It’s definitely not the worst case scenario that he’s thinking of. There’s no way, right?
He tries to brush it off as he clears the app from his history, quickly locking his phone so that he can grab his bag. He can deal with this when they get back, it’s fine. Still, he makes a mental note to stop and grab a test on the way to the airport. At least if he does it somewhere else, then he doesn’t risk someone finding it in the garbage in their bathrooms.
It’ll be negative, he’s certain of it, but Wooyoung still fears the worst as he slings his backpack over his back and heads out to meet San. Maybe he should tell him about this, but not yet. Not until he’s certain.
ᯓ⚽︎ᯓ ✈︎
“I’m so tired,” Jisung whines as he sprawls out in the passenger seat like the princess he is. “I’m going to sleep for the whole flight.”
“Well that’s boring.” Minho scoops up his americano from the cupholder and starts chugging, praying that the caffeine imbeds itself into his veins immediately. They definitely shouldn’t have stayed up as late as they did, but it was for very important reasons if he does say so himself. Between looking up the best restaurants in the area, and sharing one too many and yet not enough cat memes, it was nearly four when Minho reluctantly laid down the hyung law and forced them to go to bed.
Jisung fumbles with the beanie on his head, pushing it down further over his messy bangs and into his eyes. “How are you so functional, hyung?” he practically whines out. “We’re running on like three hours of sleep, if that.”
“That’s where I thrive, Jisungie,” Minho replies with a devilish smirk, dropping his nearly-empty cup back into the cupholder when the light turns green. “Who needs sleep when you can run off of hot bean juice?”
Jisung shudders. “That shit gives me so much anxiety,” he replies before he grabs his hot chocolate and takes a sip. “I don’t know how you drink it.”
“Pure willpower,” Minho assures him. He turns down the next street and makes his way towards the airport.
“Not sure if I’d call it willpower, but sure.” Jisung replies. Minho watches out of the corner of his eye as Jisung brings his thumb to his mouth and starts quietly gnawing on his nail. He sighs quietly before reaching across the car and wrapping a hand around Jisung’s wrist, gently tugging it away from his face.
“You know that’s only going to hurt you in the long run,” he reminds Jisung gently. “Did you bring your stress ball?”
Jisung grumbles but he glances towards the backseat. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s in my backpack, but I don’t think squeezing it is going to help make me less anxious about getting on a plane.”
Jisung’s anxiety is something that Minho is all too familiar with. The younger tries his best, but even his best can’t stave off panic attacks, especially when Jisung sometimes just doesn’t know why he’s even having one. There’s been so many times that Minho has just sat with Jisung, the man wrapped up in his arms as he coached him through breathing techniques to help calm him down.
“I know you don’t want to, but have you thought about seeing someone, maybe starting anxiety medication?” Before Jisung can start whining out his protest, Minho presses on. “I know you’re worried about how it’ll make you feel and how people will look at you, but I really think it will help. All that stress isn’t good for your body, Sung-ah.”
“I know, but…” Jisung trails off, a pained expression crossing his face. “You know how it is. Maybe after the season, hyung. It’s just – my parents won’t accept it, and what if Seungminnie doesn’t understand-”
“If Kim Seungmin can’t understand that his boyfriend needs to do something for his mental health, then he’s not the right person for you,” Minho replies simply, an edge to his tone the moment that that man is mentioned. Despite his feelings about their relationship, Minho only wants good things for Jisung, and if it means shitting on Seungmin in front of his face so that he realises that he could do better, he’ll do it without hesitation.
“Seungminnie is the right person for me,” Jisung retorts, and Minho has to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes. He’s so tired of hearing about Kim Seungmin this and Kim Seungmin that. His best friend has been obsessed with the man ever since they became roommates in university. How great can he be when he sneaks off with his boyfriend’s best friend to get his dick wet?
“That doesn’t mean I don’t worry, though,” Jisung continues, unaware of Minho’s inner turmoil. “It’s the anxiety. It comes with the territory.”
Minho merely hums in response and switches into the lane that leads to the airport parking lot. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, and it’s going about as well as it did all of the other times. Minho is happy to help Jisung when his anxiety spikes, but there’s only so much that he can do if his best friend doesn’t want to help himself, so he lets the conversation die there. It’s not like he wants to talk about Seungmin anyway.
“I still can’t believe we stayed up all night looking at cat memes.” Jisung breaks the silence, and when Minho glances over at him, he’s slumped in the passenger seat and rubbing his tired eyes.
“And places to eat in Shenyang. Don’t forget that,” Minho reminds him as he pulls into the parking lot, slowing down to a crawl so he can find an empty spot. “I’m not travelling all the way to China to eat subpar food.”
Jisung thinks about it for just a moment before he nods in agreement. “Worth it,” he says between giggles.
The sweet sound does terrible things to Minho’s heart, but so does just about anything Jisung does. The man is so cute and so full of life that it’s impossible not to be painfully in love with him. Minho distracts himself from those thoughts by focusing on pulling into the first empty spot he finds and turning off the car. He turns to look at Jisung and offers him a weak smile, reaching over the dash to ruffle his hair beneath the beanie
“You’ll be fine on the plane, Jisungie,” he reassures him gently. “If you get scared, you can hold hyung’s hand.”
“But what if I sit with Seungminnie?” Jisung asks, tilting his head to the side with a slight pout on his lips.
Even when anger gnaws at Minho’s chest, he still can’t help but notice how adorable he is. “You’re not,” he states, tone flat. “I get first dibs. Kim Seungmin can sit with coach and get hard talking about drills.”
“Hyung, gross,” Jisung shrieks, leaning over to smack Minho’s arm playfully.
“Yah,” Minho chides the younger as he bats his hand away. “Get out of my car or else Seonghwa’s fancy private jet will leave without us.”
“I still can’t believe that we’re flying in a private plane,” Jisung says as he pushes the car door open, only pausing to grab his hot chocolate before he climbs out of the vehicle. Minho lets himself breathe for just a moment, reminding himself that he has to act normal and not like the jealous, lovesick best friend that he is. He chugs the last of his coffee and then gets out, popping the trunk so they can grab their bags and head to the airport.
They make their way through ticketing and security before meeting the others at the special private plane terminal. It’s weird, Minho thinks, getting to go into an area that most people usually aren’t allowed in. He doesn’t really get why people in private planes are treated better than those travelling on regular planes, but he’s not rich, so there’s that. Seonghwa always shows up to practise with designer everything. He practically bribed the team into liking him last year by giving welcome gifts, as if that’s normal. It worked too well, the team loves him, but Minho still can’t fully get behind the man. There’s something about him that he just doesn’t like. It’s not that Seonghwa’s cruel or cold or anything like that, he’s just…off. Minho doesn’t know how, but something just doesn’t feel right about him.
Speaking of the man, he spots Seonghwa first, the second year leaning back in his seat and talking too warmly for this early in the morning with some of their fellow teammates. Jeongin seems to be hanging on to every word, the youngest curling into Seonghwa’s personal space as he listens intently. That’s his baby, not Seonghwa’s. The evil monster that lives inside of him called jealousy seems to be in overdrive today.
“Come on, hyung,” Jisung says as he wraps a hand around Minho’s wrist, tugging on him. Minho blinks, pulled from his thoughts. He’d let Jisung take him wherever he wanted to, which in this moment is to the convenience store near their gate for snacks.
“Do I want something sweet or salty?”
“Both,” Minho replies, knowing full well that Jisung never just wants one or the other. Whenever they get things when they go out, Minho always makes sure to get the other thing that Jisung’s debating between, solely so he can try them both. He always ends up giving him the one that Jisung likes better, unable to resist making the man light up whenever he pretends to have an internal debate about it before he actually hands it over. He always tells Jisung that it’s the last time he’ll ever be that nice, but Minho knows that he’d just about do anything for the man.
Between the two of them, they get a full bag of snacks. They definitely won’t finish them on the plane, but they might last through the weekend if they don’t share with the others.
“I’m going to eat this one first,” Jisung declares, pulling out a package of foreign cookies that Minho’s never heard of.
“Extra sugar for breakfast,” he comments in amusement as he digs into the bag and fishes out the gum that he grabbed for Jisung, just in case. It might help with the anxiety of the plane taking off, but if it doesn’t, it’ll be fun to try and pop bubbles with.
“There’s nothing wrong with eating sugar with every meal of the day,” Jisung insists with a grin, already digging into the cookies.
“No,” Minho agrees. “Nothing wrong with that, but eating only sugar for every meal of the day definitely is.”
Jisung waves him off. “We’ll get real food when we land, it’s fine.”
They make it back to the gate just in time to run into Chan, their coach looking beyond exhausted. “You would not believe how frustrating it was to check all of our equipment,” he tells Minho as Jisung bounds off to Seungmin and plops down into his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. Minho tries not to grimace.
“I believe it,” he tells the man just before Yunho interrupts them.
“You should’ve been there when Innie and I checked the net,” he tells them. “The agent literally asked us why we were bringing it and all I could tell them was that our coach said to.”
“They’ve seen worse things checked, I’m sure,” Chan says with a weak smile as he settles into one of the seats closest to the gate, sipping his coffee. “I remember the skiing team constantly complaining about having to check their skis.”
“There’s definitely worse things that could be checked,” Changbin chimes in, grinning a little bit. “Like a bag full of dildos.”
“Seo Changbin!” Minho tunes them out as Chan starts giving Changbin a lecture on things that they definitely shouldn’t discuss in the middle of an airport, but he’s trying not to smile so he’s pretty sure that the man’s not too mad about it. At least Coach Yang isn’t with them, too busy talking to the agent that’s waiting to get them on board.
His gaze shifts over to Jisung and Seungmin, watching silently as Jisung animatedly talks to his boyfriend like he’s not the least bit anxious for this flight. Minho knows the truth, though. He can see in the way that Jisung is pointedly tapping his fingers against the back of his hand so that Seungmin can’t feel it and how his foot shakes as he tells him how excited he is for their adventure.
The fact that Seungmin can’t pick up on it is yet another reason that Minho adds to his list of why he’s better for Jisung than him. He’s on number forty-five on that list, and it never stops growing.
“Alright, team, let’s go!” Minho mechanically pushes himself to his feet and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He waits as patiently as he can for Jisung to crawl out of Seungmin’s lap and stand up, but when he does, Minho reaches out and grabs onto Jisung, tugging him over to him and away from Seungmin.
“Excuse you?” It might sound like a question, but Minho knows exactly what Seungmin means with that tone. He shrugs simply.
“You should’ve called dibs,” Minho replies simply before he squeezes Jisung’s hand, his heart beating faster in his chest. “Let’s go, Sungie.”
Jisung giggles next to him but goes easily, walking with him to the gate so they can scan their tickets and get on the plane. Behind him, someone says, “ Oh , 2min are fighting,” and Minho’s pretty sure it’s San or Mingi, but he doesn’t bother turning around to find out.
They make their way onto the plane and grab seats right behind the wing, because Jisung’s telling him that he’s always heard that that’s the safest place on the plane. Minho doesn’t care where they sit, just as long as it’s nowhere near their coach or Kim Seungmin, so he’s fine with it. When Seungmin does board the plane, Minho gives him an icy stare to make sure that he knows he is not welcome anywhere near them before he turns his attention to Jisung as he rambles, jumping from subject to subject as his anxiety peaks.
“Hey, Sungie, breathe.” Minho takes Jisung’s hands in his and he turns to face him, slowly working through the breathing exercises as he tries to get Jisung to mirror him. It takes a few minutes, probably because the others are loud as fuck and therefore distracting, but Jisung ends up matching his breathing, calming slightly despite the fact that his hands are trembling a little bit in Minho’s.
Minho smiles at him, something small and warm as he squeezes his hands. “You’re okay, Sungie,” he assures him gently. “I’m right here with you, you’re going to be fine. I’ll protect you.”
Jisung clings to Minho’s hands and he nods quickly. “Okay, hyung,” he breathes out, puffing up his chest a little bit. “You’re right, I’m okay. I can do it, maybe…”
“You can do it definitely!” Minho’s gaze shifts as he sees Felix pop up from the seats in front of them, looking down at them with a grin. “Flying is like riding a bicycle, once you do it, you never forget.”
“That’s not how it works at all, Lix-ah,” Hyunjin comments as he pushes himself up to look at both of them. “Well, maybe it is, but I don’t think so, because we’re not the ones flying the plane.”
“Sit down,” Minho says as he gives them both an unimpressed look. He stares Hyunjin down until he sinks back down into his seat, but Felix is unphased, smiling brightly at the two of them like he didn’t interrupt their conversation.
“Oh! We should say a prayer before we take off,” the blonde declares. The plane breaks out into a series of boos and nos, one particularly loud, “ hell no,” coming from Changbin from where he’s stuffing his backpack into the space above his seat. Felix looks disappointed by the reaction and he practically turns into the saddest person Minho’s ever seen as he sinks back into his seat.
“It’s okay, Lixie, I’ll say one with you,” Hyunjin says just loud enough for Minho to hear. Of course he would, the simp. The way that he clings to Felix like he’s the only friend in his entire world is a little nauseating, but Minho likes Felix, so as long as Hyunjin isn’t treating him badly he’s not going to say anything about it.
He turns his attention back to Jisung and squeezes his hands. “So, do you want to watch something for the takeoff?” he asks Jisung. “Or do you just want to listen to music? We can do whatever.”
Jisung scrunches up his nose as he thinks and it takes everything in Minho not to lean in and press a kiss to it to try and make him relax. He holds his breath, waiting patiently for Jisung to decide. “Music, I think,” he tells Minho, pulling his hands out of the man’s grasp so he can grab his backpack. “It’ll probably be better. I don’t think I can focus on something right now.”
“Sure, of course, Sungie.” Minho lets him be as Jisung fumbles with his headphones and then shoves them over his head, blasting music loud enough that Minho can hear it quietly. He glances around the plane, watching the others quietly. Jeongin is sitting across the aisle from Seonghwa towards the front of the plane, talking with him about something that Minho doesn’t give a shit about, but he keeps glancing towards the back of the plane. When he turns to see what he’s staring at, he sees Yunho and Mingi loudly laughing with each other while Yeosang pouts, likely the butt of some joke.
Well that’s weird, Minho thinks. He sighs quietly to himself when his eyes lock with Seungmin and the younger gives him a look that can only be interpreted as, ‘meet me in the bathroom after we take off.’ Minho’s down for a lot of things in this world, but getting fucked at forty-thousand feet is not one of them, so he ignores him and sinks down into his seat, getting comfortable. The moment he rests his arm on their shared armrest, Jisung’s fingers tangle with his and Minho’s heart rate climbs, beating the plane in taking off.
“Jung Wooyoung, if you don’t sit your ass down I will bench you,” Chan declares after their flustered flight attendant tries and fails to get their attention. One meek woman versus almost twenty guys is never a fair fight, even if most of their team doesn’t play for hers.
“You can’t bench me, hyung,” Wooyoung declares loudly, voice squeaking as he drops down into his seat. “I already live there, it’s free real estate to me.”
That makes Minho quietly chuckle to himself. Wooyoung’s been complaining about being their frontline sub since he joined the team. It’s justified, honestly. He’s a good player, but not good enough to be a permanent part of the starting lineup and he should know it, but that doesn’t mean he does. It’s a constant pain point, especially in the locker rooms, but Minho’s not frontline so it doesn’t matter to him.
The lone attendant starts going through the process of making sure that they’re properly seated and runs through the safety instructions with them. Jisung’s hand grips tighter to Minho’s, but he keeps gently running his thumb over the back of his hand to try and calm him down. He listens to the pilot come over the speaker system to tell them there’s some snowstorms expected on their flight path which will cause some mild turbulence but nothing unexpected. Minho glances over to Jisung but it doesn’t seem that the younger heard that, thankfully, so all is well for now.
Jisung practically cuts off the circulation in Minho’s hand as they take off. His fingers are turning purple, but he’d lose his hand over trying to make Jisung let go. Eventually, the younger relaxes, quietly staring out the window as they soar above the clouds. The chattering in the plane starts to quiet, everyone finally realising that it was far too early for this takeoff or lost to their own devices. Minho can feel his eyes threatening to close, the lack of sleep starting to catch up with him, but he forces them to stay open for Jisung. Jisung needs him, and Minho’s going to be there for him no matter what.
Well, he can probably still be there with his eyes shut.
The heaviness in his eyes finally wins and Minho lets himself succumb to the darkness, listening to quiet conversation between Changbin and Jongho coming from his right. He thinks he heard something about flying squids, but maybe that’s just lucid dreaming taking over, because now he has visions of their airplane soaring through the skies, surrounded by squids flying next to them as easily as swimming in the ocean. He thinks he sees a whale jump out of the clouds and then dive back into them, but then Minho’s riding the whale and soaring up, up, up into a rainbow of colours in the sky as his lucid dreaming turns into a deep sleep.