Chapter Text
The room was lit only by the colorful reflections from the damn lamp that Mingi had bought last week.
Yunho occupied half the mattress, stretched out as if he lived there, his glasses crooked on his face and one arm thrown behind his head. Mingi was beside him, leaning against the headboard, slowly taking a drag from the joint before handing it to the other.
Neither of them needed to speak to know how pathetic the situation they were in was.
I mean, they were friends, and well, ex-boyfriends, who hooked up occasionally to feel a little better about the fact that they couldn’t sort out their love lives like minimally functional people.
The worst part was that they weren’t even hooking up anymore, since Yunho was too emotionally hung up on Wooyoung to be able to cum with anyone else.
Yunho slowly blew the smoke toward the ceiling, staring at the fan that spun lazily, as if it wanted to give up on its useful life right then.
"I think you should buy a better fan."
"I think you should stop talking shit after smoking." Mingi replied without even looking at his face.
"It’s an observation."
"You made the same observation last week."
"And I’m still right."
Mingi let out a low laugh, Yunho was right, that fan was shit.
He needed cash to change it, maybe if he hadn’t bought a Seraphine skin, a lamp that shows glowing fish while spinning and two Gold Pokémon cards, he would have the change.
"Do you think it’s kinda pathetic that I’m still in love with Yeosang?" Mingi asked out of nowhere, still staring at the fish spinning on the lamp.
"You’re really asking me that?" Yunho turned his head immediately.
"You’re my best friend."
"Exactly." Yunho pointed to himself with the joint between his fingers. "I’ve been in love with Wooyoung since high school and right now I’m smoking weed with you to ignore the fact that he likes someone else."
Mingi stayed silent for two seconds before slowly turning his face toward Jeong, observing the bandage on the other’s eyebrow and the purple stains on his cheekbones.
"Technically, they broke up." Mingi argued seriously, as if it were an amazing incentive at that moment. "You even got beaten up defending his honor."
"I didn’t get beaten up, okay? It was a fair fight." Yunho sighed. "And besides, Wooyoung has always liked him."
"But you’re walking around with your face fucked up like this because you fought San." Mingi insisted. "That has to count for something."
"I don’t know, he’s in that phase where he just wants to stay quiet, and I doubt he sees me as anything more than a friend." Yunho took another drag before handing the joint back to him. "When I say it out loud, it gets kinda depressing."
"It does." Mingi chuckled softly, blowing the smoke slowly. "Thanks for the emotional support."
"Anytime you need." Yunho smiled, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. "But you guys were friends for years, it’s not weird that you still like him."
"But it’s been almost two years."
"So what?"
"I told him I liked him and he just started ignoring me, Yunho." Mingi huffed, recounting the tragedy of his life with a tired smile. "My 'so what' is that he hates me."
"He doesn’t hate you."
"Dude, he literally acts like I died."
"Wooyoung does that to me too when I eat the last slice of pizza." Yunho tried to soften it, stealing the joint from Song’s hand.
"It’s not the same thing." Mingi let out a loud laugh. "You suck at comforting people."
"It was you who asked for my opinion." Yunho said, but couldn’t help smiling.
"Because you normally say something smart without meaning to." Mingi rested his head against the wall behind the bed, watching the smoke slowly spread through the room.
"Thanks, I guess."
"I just wanted to stop missing him." He admitted softly. "You know? Move on like a normal person and I don’t know, end up falling for someone."
Yunho stayed quiet for a few seconds, understanding exactly what Song meant.
The situation with Yeosang, in general, was shit. I mean, what kind of person just starts ignoring someone else’s existence? Not that he knew all the details, but still, Mingi wasn’t the worst guy on the face of the earth, not even close.
Even when Mingi said they needed to break up, he was kind enough to explain the situation to Yunho. To say that the problem wasn’t him, but that he was in love with someone else and didn’t want to hurt him.
"But do you want to move on?" Jeong asked finally, the same question he asked himself every day.
"No."
"Then there you go."
" 'Then there you go' my ass, you son of a bitch." Mingi grumbled. "Life doesn’t work like that."
"It doesn’t work for me either." Yunho sighed. "I see Wooyoung all gorgeous, while I’m just a mess who sleeps badly, but... then he smiles at me and I think 'holy shit'."
"You’re so screwed." Mingi laughed through his nose.
"You too."
"That’s why we work so well as friends."
"And so badly as boyfriends." Jeong winked, and the two started laughing at the same time.
If life were easy, Mingi would have liked to have fallen for Yunho.
It would be easier than keep thinking about Kang Yeosang and how much time had already passed, and all the things that had probably changed.
"Do you think I should look for him?" Mingi said after a few seconds, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Yeosang?"
"Yeah."
"No."
"No?" Mingi blinked.
"You just told me he acts like you died." Yunho replied with way too much simplicity. "Then leave him alone."
"But I miss him."
Mingi stayed quiet, turning his eyes back to the lamp and its colorful fish, trying to figure out if he should really just let it go.
"Are you using reverse psychology on me?" Song arched an eyebrow, finally looking at his friend.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about, you fucker." Yunho smiled, blowing the smoke slowly while raising the hand with the joint up.
"Fuck..." Song murmured finally. "Sometimes you really are smart."
"I know."
"And you’re always a cocky asshole."
"I know that too." Yunho said calmly, turning his face to look at him. "Don’t end up like me, Mingi... At least try or you’ll never know if it could’ve worked."
Yunho was right, because even after two years, even after messing everything up... Yeosang was still the first person he thought of when something good happened.
[ . . . ]
Mingi discovered that day that there was a huge difference between having courage inside his own room, high and receiving questionable advice from Yunho, and having courage in real life. Because, honestly?
Real life was way worse.
He had already received a no before, now he was running after humiliation.
His hands were sweating so much it was ridiculous, his heart was beating way too fast and, as absurd as it was to admit, Mingi was absolutely sure he would die before even reaching the apartment door.
Maybe it would be an aneurysm, if he was lucky, God would simply decide that that public humiliation was too much and give him a heart attack right there.
What was he going to do? Show up, show the damn bag with strawberry ice cream and wait for Yeosang to invite him in? That would be ridiculous even for him.
Even so, he kept walking.
Yeosang’s condo was way too organized for someone as chaotic as him, everything looked clean and adult.
Mingi felt like a criminal, or a carpet salesman.
"First building, sixth floor." He murmured to himself, gripping the strap of the thermal bag tighter. "Sixty-eight."
It was the address that Yunho had managed to squeeze out of Jongho after a worrying amount of emotional blackmail.
And now Mingi was there, two years since the last time Kang Yeosang looked at him without pretending he didn’t exist.
Mingi ran his hand through his freshly dyed hair for the twentieth time since he left home, trying to fix it. It was useless, it always ended up messy.
He had also put on perfume, maybe even too much.
And he chose his best outfit, which consisted of a black Cyberpunk 2077 t-shirt that had a small tear near the hem because Yunho tried to open a beer bottle using it.
The elevator doors opened and he almost gave up, this was crazy. Yeosang probably hated him.
He probably didn’t even want to see him and maybe was dating, or too busy to worry about Mingi’s romantic suffering over a relationship that never even started.
Maybe he would call the police.
Mingi got out of the elevator anyway, walking in steps that were not at all determined while staring at the door numbers.
His legs went weak as soon as he saw the number 68. It was just a regular door, dark wood with a small plant pot beside it and a pink little rug in front... But, to Mingi, it looked like the entrance to his final judgment.
He stood still for a few seconds and then thought about the last conversation he had with Yunho, which basically consisted of Jeong calling him "Soft ass" and saying that if he didn’t go after Yeosang, he was a "Badly fucked coward".
Which made no sense at all, considering the last person who fucked him was the guy himself, but Yunho had really learned to use reverse psychology, because it had worked like hell.
Mingi pressed the doorbell and in the same second regretted every decision that led him there.
The doorbell echoed down the hallway, and during the seconds that followed, Mingi seriously considered running away.
There was still time, he could simply throw himself off the building, or try to run to the elevator, go back home and pretend that all of this had been a collective delusion induced by weed and bad company while watching the third season of Grey’s Anatomy.
Mingi forgot how to breathe when the door opened.
Yeosang was standing in front of him, wearing a baby blue pajama set, his hair tied in a messy little ponytail and, on his feet, huge slippers that were, without a shadow of a doubt, Hello Kitty heads.
In one absurd second, completely inappropriate for the situation, Mingi thought that maybe jumping from the sixth floor wasn’t a bad idea.
Yeosang was still ridiculously handsome, the kind that always made his brain forget basic words. And he also looked like he was about to throw himself out the window, his dark eyes were wide and, for the first time in two years, they were looking directly at him.
The two stayed silent staring at each other.
Mingi was almost sure that this already qualified as psychological torture, even if Yeosang seemed equally in shock.
Song Mingi was at the door of his house, wearing a Cyberpunk t-shirt, smelling like perfume and desperation.
Almost a full minute passed in that strange competition of who would die first, until Mingi slowly raised his hand, revealing the thermal bag he was holding.
It wasn’t a good plan, but it was the only one he had.
"I brought strawberry ice cream." He said, feeling his own voice come out strangely lower than normal. "I hope it’s still your favorite."
Yeosang’s eyes went down to the bag, then back to Mingi’s face and, for the first time since he opened the door, something changed in his expression.
It wasn’t a smile, but it also wasn’t indifference, it looked like... surprise, even nostalgia.
"It still is." He replied softly and Mingi felt his heart beat even harder when he heard that voice being so sweet with him.
"Yes!" He let out without thinking. "Cool!"
Genius, twenty-something and owner of the vocabulary of a child who just learned to walk.
Yeosang looked away for a moment, as if thinking about something, and soon opened the door wider.
"Come in."
"Seriously?"
"You rang the doorbell of my house carrying ice cream and smelling like an entire perfume store." Yeosang replied with his usual calm. "The least I can do is find out what went wrong in your life for you to show up here."
And holy shit, Yeosang still made dry jokes...! Mingi almost cried when he realized that.
"It was Yunho." He defended himself immediately. "The blame is usually his."
Yeosang let out a small snort through his nose, and that sound, so small and almost involuntary, made Mingi realize how much he had truly missed him.