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Chapter Text

(5)

Mingyu first finds GAM3RBO1 when he’s in high school. It’s 2016 and he’s 19 years old, a senior, and spends most of his time either playing volleyball or studying. He has no fucking clue what League of Legends is, but this guy named GAM3RBO1 makes it look easy.

(It also helps that he’s easy on the eyes. But Mingyu doesn’t make that anyone’s business but his own.)

Volleyball is his thing. He’s playing until he drops so he can get scouted by the V-League after college. He already got into his top choice, who scouted him after he won his high school the national championship title. But with GAM3RBO1’s voice in his ears as he studies for exams and works out at the gym, life feels more manageable, for some reason. 

Well, the guy has a nice voice. But Mingyu feels drawn to him in a way that he can't explain, not entirely.

“Maybe it’s because he’s hot?” Jungkook offers. They are - unfortunately - best friends, and Jungkook clocked his “crush” coming from a million miles away, when he caught Mingyu watching Twitch instead of studying at cram school last night.

(“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook had said, peering over his shoulder. “We have an exam - wait, is that LoL?”

Mingyu’s face had gone red. “No-! You saw nothing-!”)

“No,” Mingyu says. “He’s just-“ He stops talking, because he knows whatever he says will dig himself into a hole.

Jungkook grins, completely evil, as he steals one of Mingyu’s shrimp chips. “Mhmm.”

Mingyu would wish death upon him, but Jungkook is one of his only real friends. Mingyu is popular, yes - he’s an athlete and he’s tall and he knows that he looks good when he spikes - but most people stick around him because they want him to come to their parties (so girls come) or blind dates (so, again, girls come). He and Jungkook have been attached at the hip since they were kids, and only someone as chaotic as Jeon Jungkook is willing to put up with his bullshit.

So Mingyu sighs, burying his head into his English textbook.

“Do you even know how the game works?” Jungkook asks. 

Mingyu shakes his head. “No clue.”

Jungkook laughs. “Is it his face or his voice?”

Mingyu groans. “Both.”

He looks up, and Jungkook is laughing in his face. Mingyu has been known to fall for the pretty types - his last crush had wide shoulders and a small waist and a nice voice and he was gone - and this GAM3RBO1 guy is no exception. Except that GAM3RBO1 is in professional e-sports and Mingyu has literally never seen him outside of the shitty webcam he uses for his streams. 

The angle of it is horrible - it shows GAM3RBO1 from the shoulders up, and you can see up his nose - but he’s still handsome. And Mingyu is weak to handsome people.

“Oh, Kim Mingyu,” Jungkook pats his arm condescendingly. “One day, you’ll learn. You’ll get over him soon enough.”

It’s true. GAM3RBO1 is just some random pretty boy somewhere out there, and Mingyu is just some high schooler who watches him. One day he’ll get over this “crush,” and one day he’ll probably forget that GAM3RBO1 even exists.

But for now? He’s fucked.

(41)

“Hyung!” Mingyu calls out when he gets home. “I’m back!”

The apartment is suspiciously quiet. No sounds of the TV going, or Seollie running around. And Wonwoo definitely wasn’t live… 

Mingyu toes off his shoes and puts his duffle down in the entryway. 

He wanders through the apartment. The kitchen is spotless - Wonwoo really doesn’t cook when Mingyu isn’t here, huh? - and the only sound comes from the ice dispenser. When he gets to the living room, he sees why. 

Paused on the TV is the game from today. And asleep on the couch is Jeon Wonwoo himself. He’s sprawled across the sofa, Seollie laying at his feet. He’s wearing one of Mingyu’s Bluefangs hoodies. 

Ugh. He’s literally 30, but he’s cute.

Like a man possessed, Mingyu approaches his sleeping boyfriend with little trepidation. He smooths his hand over Wonwoo’s hair and says almost reverently, “Hyung.”

Wonwoo blinks his eyes open, slowly. He fell asleep wearing his glasses, and there’s marks on his face. Wonwoo breathes, once, and then says: “oh, you’re back.”

Mingyu smiles. “Just got home.”

Wonwoo blinks at him. “Welcome back, Min.”

With little fanfare, Mingyu drags him into a hug. Wonwoo goes easily, because he’s so pliant when he’s tired. Mingyu loves it when he’s like this, sleepy and confused and affectionate. Wonwoo breathes in the crook of his neck. He’s home now. 

“Missed you,” Mingyu whispers. 

Wonwoo chuckles. “Mingyu, it was three days.”

Mingyu whines, clutching him tighter. “Three long days. I thought I was going crazy. I need you to survive.”

Wonwoo laughs again, and squeezes him back. “You’re impossible,” he says. 

Mingyu presses a kiss to the side of his head. 

“I know.”

Ugh. It’s so nice to be wrapped around Wonwoo, who always gives in to Mingyu’s affection despite his grumbling. 

It also helps that it’s been a long few days, between training and photoshoots and today’s big game. The last couple weeks of the season are always the most chaotic of his whole year, and oftentimes, the only thing that helps him cope with the stress is knowing that his very grumbly boyfriend is waiting for him at home. It’s pathetic how Mingyu spent the whole commute home excited to hear Wonwoo’s nightly nagging, but that’s what domesticity does to you, he supposes. 

They sit there for several more content moments before Mingyu pulls away. Before Wonwoo can start complaining about so heavy, Min, god, or any other of his recurring gripes. “I need something to eat - did you have dinner?” He asks. Wonwoo shakes his head no and looks up at him in the pleading way that says please cook for me.  

And he will. Both because he can’t say no to that face and because he wants to cook dinner for Jeon Wonwoo until the day he dies. 

Mingyu heads off to the kitchen and starts on making kimchi fried rice, because he’s craving it after the long game he had today. It was against Incheon, who are still their #1 rivals, and they nearly lost. His coach would be on his ass if he saw the amount of sesame oil Mingyu pours into the pan, but that’s between him, his kitchen, and god.

Wonwoo sleepily pads into the kitchen, blanket around his shoulders. He’s cute. Mingyu repeats that like a mantra to himself - his boyfriend is cute, cute cute, and that’s all he can think about.

Seollie circles around Mingyu’s legs, looking for scraps. Mingyu slides her the tiniest piece of pork when Wonwoo isn’t looking, busy scrolling on his phone. Mingyu makes a shh sound to her, and she backs off. Their secret is safe for now. Dinner is ready and Mingyu serves the both of them. They start eating with little fanfare.

It’s late, and Mingyu is tired and Wonwoo is still groggy, so not much is said between them as they eat. But it’s comfortable and familiar to be together like this, sitting at the kitchen island while a video plays on Wonwoo’s phone in the background. It’s a T1 match, of course - as long as Faker is still kicking, Wonwoo will always be watching. Whether that’s because they’re friends or because of Wonwoo’s odd hero worship towards the guys on T1, Mingyu has yet to figure it out. Not that he minds, not in the slightest.

“How’d I play today?” Mingyu asks, nudging their shoulders together.

Wonwoo grins, in that mischievous way he often does when he’s decided on being a little shit. “You were alright.”

Mingyu huffs and takes both of their bowls to wash them. “Just alright?” He asks. “Did I look handsome while doing it, at least?”

“Of course,” Wonwoo says automatically, because even after all this time, he still “doesn’t play around about Kim Mingyu’s looks” (his words, not Mingyu’s). “You’re still my volleyball bias.”

Volleyball bias? Mingyu makes a face and Wonwoo giggles. He’s more silly because he’s tired, and Mingyu feels himself go soft at the sight. 

“C’mere,” he says, voice a little rough. He drags Wonwoo into his arms by the waist and squeezes him tight. “I forgive you.”

“I don’t remember saying sorry,” Wonwoo says, but accepts the hug anyway.

“You should,” Mingyu suggests.

“You should go back to being sappy,” Wonwoo says into his shoulder.

Ugh. Mingyu wishes that he wasn’t so fond of the way Wonwoo has an attitude even when he’s dead tired. He huffs and hauls Wonwoo over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. Wonwoo, who is used to this behavior, doesn’t do anything besides say in a very disgruntled voice: “Kim Mingyu.”

(Too bad that Mingyu loves it when Wonwoo’s voice takes on that disapproving tone. It makes him want to misbehave even more.)

“Bedtime!” Mingyu cheers, taking him back to the bedroom as Seollie chases them. Wonwoo’s legs kick in the air uselessly as Mingyu sets him down on the bed. Despite his complaining, he immediately snuggles into the covers, head burrowing into his pillow. Sleepy boy. Mingyu hums with satisfaction and strokes his hand over Wonwoo’s hair.

“Good night?” Mingyu asks.

Wonwoo cracks an eye open to look at him. “Turn the light off and get in here.”

Mingyu speedruns his bedtime routine and jumps into bed with Wonwoo. Immediately, Wonwoo rolls into his arms. Even after all these years, Wonwoo always ends up as the little spoon (despite Mingyu’s desire to be the little spoon, hyung, please) simply because Mingyu can’t fight against his easy affection like this.

“You played well today,” Wonwoo finally admits into Mingyu’s collarbones. “I’m proud of you, Min.”

Oh. Mingyu loves him.

There’s a whole country rooting for him, but none of their compliments make him feel the way that Wonwoo makes him feel. His sweet, thoughtful praise stirs something warm in his belly. Mingyu can’t help his smile.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says, voice syrupy sweet, as he digs his chin into the top of Wonwoo’s head and squeezes him close. “I love you.”

Wonwoo breathes him in. “I love you too.”

Kim Mingyu can’t believe he gets to live his life like this - lovely boyfriend in his arms, their dog at the foot of the bed. Tired from his job, but content, because there’s always someone in his corner to cheer for him.

It’s worth the fatigue and long hours at the gym and the body conditioning that never really ends. Because he gets to have this. And there’s nothing better than this, not in the whole world.

(3)

By all accounts, Mingyu grew up as a perfect kid with the perfect life.

He has two parents who love each other. He has a little sister he adores. He has good grades and a good number of friends and is good at sports.

In middle school, it starts going like this:

Kim Mingyu is tall for his age, relatively. His female classmates think he’s handsome. His male classmates invite him to all the functions, to all the games after school. He’s the class rep. Mingyu doesn’t care about any of it except for volleyball.

He takes it too seriously, while his parents nag him to care more about his grades. And Mingyu does, after all, care about his grades, but he cares about volleyball more. Everyone rolls his eyes at him, because it’s not like he’s going anywhere with it.

(He’s going to prove them all wrong.)

He has one close friend, Jungkook. They’ve been friends since they were infants. Jungkook is the only person who knows that Mingyu thinks boys are just as pretty as girls. Jungkook is the only one who knows that he has a crush on the new transfer student, Bogum. 

“He’s too pretty for you,” Jungkook says offhandedly as they walk home from school, following Mingyu’s eyes to where he’s anxiously looking after his new classmate.

Without looking, Mingyu hits him on the shoulder. “Shut up.”

“You’re too manly and brutish,” Jungkook continues. He dodges Mingyu’s kick to his shin. “That's why the other guys are intimidated.”

“I’m friendly towards them, though,” Mingyu huffs. Bogum, across the courtyard, is sipping on banana milk while one of their classmates talks his ear off about Starcraft, or some other nerdy shit. Hm, maybe Mingyu has a thing for nerds. “I’m nice.”

And he is. He’s friendly towards everyone, and everyone is his casual friend. It still doesn’t change the fact that he towers over the other boys and kicks their asses in every sport they play in PE.

“Well, you’re not gonna tell him that you like him, right?” Jungkook asks, a little cautious. Mingyu looks over at him. Jungkook just wants what’s best for him, just like his parents say they want what’s best for him as they make him go to cram school after cram school until his eyes are tired from studying English.

Mingyu purses his lips. “Obviously not.”

There’s the expectation of him that grows with each passing day, growing into a more enormous burden the older he gets. He’s destined to be the perfect son. He will go to an Ivy League University and land a high-paying job and find the perfect girl to marry. He will have two kids, at least. He will pay his parents back for their “investments” in his future. This is what Mingyu’s life is destined to look like, even at only 14 years old.

Liking boys doesn’t align with this plan his parent’s have mapped out for him, so Mingyu can’t act on it. Obviously.

“It’s just a crush,” Mingyu says. Jungkook looks at him like he doesn’t believe him.

“Uh-huh,” Jungkook says. “Sure thing.”

Mingyu sighs, as they go off to buy ice cream from the convenience store before he has to head off to cram school. “It is,” he stresses. “You know my parents would kill me.”

Jungkook’s expression softens. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.”

There’s nothing for him to be sorry about, not really. It doesn’t hurt to be realistic in today’s society, where there is no option for him to date a boy without being marked as an outcast.

(“We just want what’s best for you,” comes his dad’s voice in his head, the man who would rather die than have a gay son. Or bisexual, or whatever he is. Mingyu mentally tells him to shut up.)

The thing is that Kim Mingyu has a secret: he doesn’t care about his grades, or the future, or making money. He doesn’t care about having two kids. He wants to play volleyball - he wants to go to the Olympics. He wants to sing the Korean national anthem while a gold medal sits on his chest. He wants to kiss boys and have boys kiss him. He wants to prove them all wrong and rub their faces in the dirt.

But the thing is that his parents are firm in their intentions to make him into their idea of a perfect man, almost to the point of cruelty. So he doesn’t.

“It would be a waste, you’re so good at studying,” one homeroom teacher said, once. No one cares about how well he plays on the court besides the boys who are jealous of him and the girls who have crushes on him. No adult wants him to pursue volleyball, and the issue is that his future is all being decided by adults.

The world lies on Mingyu’s shoulders, expecting him to do what's right. But what is right? He guesses that that doesn’t matter. After all, no one really cares about that at all, no one besides him. 

No one cares that Mingyu likes boys the same way Jungkook likes girls. No one cares that he’s happier on the court than he ever has been while studying. No one cares that he’s the best spiker in his entire middle school - they only care about themselves, at the end of the day. Mingyu is perfectly aware of this.

(“Did you study hard?” Mingyu’s mother asks when he gets home at 10 PM. Never how was your day? Or did you have fun at school? Despite how well off their family is, no matter how happy they look on the outside, neither of his parents care about him outside the scope of what they think achievement is.)

(No one ever notices how Mingyu doesn’t fit in with the rest of them, at least not entirely. They don’t notice the distance he maintains from them. In a way, Mingyu is waiting for someone to finally notice.)

(Maybe just once, he wants someone to ask him what he wants.) 

None of it matters, really. Kim Mingyu is going to do what his parents ask him to. He will obey. 

But he will never, ever, be happy doing it. Not if he doesn’t get to play volleyball. Not if he has to live in the closet until he dies. Not if he’s just a good son, and that’s it. Mingyu isn’t living in order to be a good son. He wants to be happy.

He may just be 14 years old, but one day he’s going to outlive all of this.

(10)

It’s a normal night - Mingyu has the day off, so he watches GAM3RBO1’s stream when he gets back home from the gym. He goes about his nightly routine, speedrunning through his skincare, when Boo Seungkwan the Youtuber joins the stream and says something that stops him in his tracks.

“WONWOO HYUNG, THE ACE HITTER OF THE SOUTH KOREAN NATIONAL MEN’S VOLLEYBALL TEAM THINKS YOU’RE HOT!”

Mingyu freezes.

He watches in horror as GAM3RBO1’s face twists up into confusion, and he says, “What?” 

Mingyu has half the mind to pretend like he totally dreamt what was said just now - that he just hallucinated it - but then Seungkwan says again: “An interview came out with Kim Mingyu, the ace hitter of the Olympic men’s volleyball team. And he’s a fan of Wonwoo hyung. Like, a huge fan.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Seokminnie!” Mingyu screams at the top of his lungs, as he scrambles out of the bathroom with his phone. His voice cracks and he nearly slips across the linoleum floors (fuck his clumsiness, this might be the end of his life) to the living room. “Help me!”

Seokmin, who was watching Masked Singer reruns on the TV, looks at him like he has three heads. “What?” He yells back. “Are you hurt?”

Mingyu collapses onto the couch, passing his phone over.

“GAM3RBO1-ssi just mentioned me on stream.”

For a second, Seokmin freezes as he processes what Mingyu said, and then his face relaxes. “Oh. That’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s not!” Mingyu wails. “He said ace of the national team. That’s me, right?”

Seokmin stares at him. “Why, is there another one?”

Mingyu frowns. “I don’t know. There could be.”

Seokmin sighs, long suffering, like he can’t believe this is happening. “There isn’t,” he says, then unpauses the stream on Mingyu’s phone. “Hey, they just called you hot.”

Mingyu’s brain does a hard reboot. They just what? He stares as Seokmin holds his phone up to him, and watches GAM3RBO1’s rather unimpressed face as Hoshi and Dino talk about Kim Mingyu’s looks. They’re talking about him.

“Pinch me,” Mingyu demands.

Seokmin complies, and squeezes the skin of his thigh between two fingers. Fuck, that hurt. 

“Okay, ow,” Mingyu whines, rubbing his skin. “I meant a light pinch.”

Seokmin grins. “You can never be too sure.”

The stream erupts into laughs. GAM3RBO1 looks entirely unphased, if not a little confused. Ugh. He’s cute. Mingyu doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s been harboring a crush on him since he was 19, or the fact that GAM3RBO1 now knows about it.

“He said that in an interview?” GAM3RBO1 asks, and Seokmin actually laughs. Mingyu is horrified. What has he done?

“I can’t believe you talked about him in an interview, Gyu,” Seokmin says while laughing, because he’s a bastard. “You were not slick at all.”

Mingyu’s face flames red. “I just said it without thinking!” He wails. He minimizes the stream (not exiting out of it because he is not missing out on the watch time, thank you very much), and texts the groupchat with: HELPPPPPPP!!!!!!!

The instant replies:

From: seokminnie: ignore him

From: hannie hyung: who died?

From: coups: so do we ignore him are we concerned

From: hao hao: ?

Mingyu ignores them, because they’re assholes, and goes to Twitter. Sure enough, there are already tweets of the clip of GAM3RBO1 and his friends finding out about the interview. Mingyu sends the clip to his friends.

From: hannie hyung: O.M.G.

From: hannie hyung: AHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHA

From: coups: oh

From: seokminnie: his crush found out he likes him

From: hao hao: this is a little pathetic

From: shua hyung: wait is that the guy that mingyu has stalked since he was a teen

Mingyu gapes down at his phone, torn between saying STFU and WHAT DO YOU MEAN “STALKED”???? Seokmin has already gotten bored, and is back to watching TV.

“I don’t stalk him,” Mingyu reasons out loud. “I just follow all of his content.”

“To an obsessive degree, yeah,” Seokmin replies, sipping on his drink and not even bothering to look his way. “Or whatever you wanna tell yourself.”

Mingyu doesn’t know if he wants to strangle his roommate or strangle himself. He tunes back into the stream. Seungkwan and Dino are asking GAM3RBO1 to shout Mingyu out, and Seungkwan compliments Mingyu not once, not twice, but maybe four times. They speak about how hot he is, over and over again.

Not that GAM3RBO1 seems to care, not even a little bit.

“They want me for my body,” Mingyu stares down at his phone. Seokmin raises his eyebrows and says nothing. He doesn’t know if he should be relieved or crestfallen that GAM3RBO1 seems to not care about Mingyu’s appearance.

Is Kim Mingyu exhausted from being sexualized? Of course! But does he wish for his celebrity crush to be at least a little affected by his sex appeal? Of course!

Mingyu watches, in a trance, analyzing GAM3RBO1’s every microexpression until the stream ends. A part of Mingyu is desperate for acknowledgement, yes, but the other part of him is terrified. He has now been perceived. His celebrity crush now knows who he is, knows his name and face, and it’s a little bit… terrifying.

“This was my fault,” Mingyu concludes when the stream is over, falling face first onto the couch and curling up into a ball. “I should’ve never mentioned him in the interview.”

Seokmin rubs his shoulder. “There, there,” he says. “It’ll be fine. You’re hot, Gyu. Maybe he’ll fall for you.”

Mingyu begs to differ. There is no chance that GAM3RBO1 would ever fall for him, despite his looks. GAM3RBO1 is way too handsome and probably has a more refined taste, or whatever. And if he does like Mingyu, it’ll just be for his body. Just like everyone else.

Mingyu groans. His life sucks.

(42)

“I’m off, hyung,” Mingyu kisses Wonwoo’s forehead in the morning. The sun is just now rising. Wonwoo grumbles and blinks up at him.

“You’re going?” He asks, voice raspy.

Mingyu grins. “Yeah. Go back to sleep.”

Wonwoo brings an arm around Mingyu’s shoulder to bring their lips together, eyes closed, and then he’s asleep again. Mingyu huffs a quiet laugh and tiptoes around Seollie, out of the room.

He loves mornings like these, when he gets to brush the hair out of Wonwoo’s eyes and kiss each facial feature one by one before he’s off to a long day of training and working out.

He makes extra eggs for Wonwoo’s breakfast (his hyung is getting better at not burning them, but you never can be too sure) and makes a protein shake for the gym. The sun rises over the skyline and sets an orange glow across their fancy Seoul apartment. Mingyu stretches and grins.

Time for a good day.

(13)

“Somebody’s been distracted, recently,” Bumzu says offhandedly to him during a gym session. Wonwoo is playing in Mingyu’s headphones, so he almost doesn’t hear him.

“What?” Mingyu asks, taking out an Airpod.

Bumzu has a shit-eating grin on his face. “Exactly.”

Mingyu’s face goes red, just a little bit. His head is somewhere in Hongdae, at that karaoke bar. They were sitting so close, their thighs almost touching. Ugh. He can still feel it.

“Shut up, hyung,” is what Mingyu mutters. Bumzu laughs.

“Cheol told me,” he says, even though Mingyu could have guessed that himself. “He showed me pictures.”

That gets Mingyu’s attention. “There’s pictures?” He half-wails, half-yells. Bumzu is still laughing. Mingyu doesn’t know whether he wants the photos deleted forever or sent to his iPhone right now.

“It was cute, you looked very enamored,” Bumzu offers, and Mingyu is horrified. The absolute last thing Mingyu wants to hear from his personal trainer is that he has seen photos of Mingyu looking enamored. Besides, Bumzu is much too old to be saying these things, it’s like talking to an ahjussi about his dating prospects.

Mingyu puts down his weights and sinks to his knees, despairing. 

“Does he like you back?” Bumzu asks, seeing right through Mingyu’s poorly-veiled affection. Just as everyone else does.

Mingyu rubs his hands over his temples and grimaces. “No. He doesn’t.”

He’s been struggling with it these past couple days. He’s used to being wanted, by pretty much everyone. He’s used to people eyeing his muscles and complimenting his face and leaning in too close, too fast. And Mingyu is glad that Wonwoo wasn’t like that, not at all.

But it also makes it obvious that Wonwoo isn’t into him. He kept a respectful distance, complimenting his playing when appropriate. He never leaned in too close, his voice going low, or hands wandering up Mingyu’s arms.

He doesn’t know if he’s more upset or happy about it, because it kind of only makes him like Wonwoo even more. How often is it that he finds someone outside his field who treats him like a normal person instead of an object? Instead of something they want solely for the sake of having?

Wonwoo looked at him like he was normal. And that’s the part that Mingyu gets stuck on. 

Maybe Wonwoo doesn’t like him back, but he likes him enough - maybe as a friend? Could they be friends? Mingyu sure hopes so.

“That’s tough,” Bumzu says, hand on his shoulder. “You’ll win his heart eventually.”

Mingyu looks up at him and manages a wary smile. That’s just what Seokmin said, and it’s ridiculous coming from everybody’s mouths. Wonwoo hyung doesn’t like him back, and Mingyu is (mostly) okay with that. He just needs to find a way for them to get close.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Mingyu sighs. Bumzu squeezes his shoulder.

“Let’s work on those reps, then, hmm?” He raises his eyebrows. “We can impress him with your muscles.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes, but complies anyway. “That’s the creepiest thing you’ve ever said,” he claims, though not disagreeing in the slightest. If Jeon Wonwoo is into big muscles, Mingyu can make that happen - no problem. 

(46)

It’s a low-key Wednesday morning when Mingyu springs the question on Seungcheol. The question that’s been weighing on his mind for months and months now. They’re in the gym lounge. Mingyu sits down next to his hyung and leans into his space. 

“So,” Mingyu starts conversationally. “How bad would it be for me if I came out?”

Seungcheol, who was peacefully playing a mobile game, turns and looks up at him. Stares. Mouth opens, closes. Opens again. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, very slowly. “I think I just hallucinated. Can you repeat what you just said?”

Mingyu rolls his eyes and leans away from him. “You heard what I said.”

He is asking Seungcheol, because Seungcheol is the only one who can give him an answer. An honest answer. Seungcheol does not mince things, but he is not unkind, and there are certain times where his wisdom seems infinite. Mostly when it has to do with volleyball and that’s about it, but still.

Mingyu is looking for an infinite kind of wisdom right now. Is a little bit desperate for it. 

“So you want to come out,” Seungcheol says slowly, like he has to digest the sentence. His wide eyes blink in half-speed. He was probably hoping that he and Mingyu would never be having this conversation, but here they are. “You want to come out publicly.”

Mingyu nods.

Him and Wonwoo started dating over 2 years ago. It’s great, really. But he’s getting tired of the secrecy, no matter how selfish that sounds. There are people out there who suffer just as much in secret, for much longer, but Mingyu gets antsier the longer his career goes on and on without being able to just say it. Interviewers have started to ask him if he has a special someone, or when he’s getting married, or what he likes in girls, and Mingyu never has anything worthwhile to say in response.

He says he likes tall girls, who are a bit nerdy. Wonwoo was appalled by how transparent that was, how easily that could be linked back to them, but the media is so overwhelmingly heteronormative that they haven’t. Even so, just to appease his boyfriend, he’s started saying “anyone with a good heart.”

Which makes Wonwoo roll his eyes every time, but it’s worth it.

Seungcheol says nothing for a long moment. Unspoken, he says: you know how bad of an idea that is. They both know that Mingyu doesn’t have to hear it. He knows.

“Well,” Seungcheol says, voice delicate and pleasantly diplomatic (if only for the fact that Mingyu is his favorite, and also the golden boy of Korean Men’s Volleyball). The leader in him is stern, but he’s always gentle about things like this - personal stuff. “Do you want the honest answer or the nice answer?”

Mingyu purses his lips. 

“Obviously the honest one,” he says. And then, just to be respectful: “my dear hyung-nim.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. 

“Well, you know what coming out would mean. Losing sponsorships. You could get kicked out of the team,” he says. “You’d probably be targeted by Christian organizations. There could be boycotts or protests.”

Everything he is saying, while hypothetical, is true. It’s something Mingyu already knew. 

“Everyone including me will tell you that it’s a bad idea,” Seungcheol says. “It would completely jeopardize your career. But you already know that.”

Mingyu nods. Because he did. Because he’s not an idiot, and while he’s far less cynical than his boyfriend is, careers have died for far less than that. It’s the kind of society they live in. It’s the world they were bred to serve.

“I know,” Mingyu says, the tiniest bit petulant. “I know, but…”

He wrings his hands together. Seungcheol, of course, notices. It’s Mingyu’s most telling tick, the one that gives him up immediately.

“You’ve been thinking about it anyway, haven’t you,” Seungcheol says. Voice a little more soft. “You really want to do it.” It’s not a question.

Mingyu bites his lip. And then, even more softly: “I do.” 

He has. He has for years, even before he met Wonwoo. He always wanted to be honest, be true to himself, especially after the oppressive upbringing he experienced growing up. He always wanted to say it, completely honest: my name is Kim Mingyu and I like boys just as much as I like girls.

He thinks, every now and again, about how it could have been different for him if there was a gay volleyball player when he was growing up. Maybe that would have given him more confidence. Maybe it would’ve made him believe less in the things his parents said to him. Maybe it would’ve been the difference between obedience and genuinity. 

He could be that role model, one day. He wants to.

“Oh, Mingyu,” Seungcheol says. Like he feels bad for him. 

Mingyu looks down at his hands. 

He’s been hiding himself for so long, but there’s also Wonwoo. Who, despite his many shortcomings, is the best thing in Mingyu’s life. Who watches Mingyu’s every game, but can’t sit in the stands, lest people become suspicious why his roommate is so dedicated to his career. Who sleeps with his legs tangled in Mingyu’s, but has to pretend like they sleep in different rooms in front of both his fans and Mingyu’s. Who never complains that they can’t go out on dates, and never whines when Mingyu can’t come with him to award ceremonies, but still deserves to have someone who can do that for him nevertheless. 

Mingyu wants to be honest, but he also wants to be able to love his boyfriend the way he deserves, and sometimes he just gets so frustrated that he can’t.

“There’s never been a gay Korean athlete,” Seungcheol says. “Especially not one like you.”

“I know, hyung,” Mingyu says bitterly. Like you, he says. Like Mingyu’s sexuality should be even more shameful given his reputation. “I know.”

“There’s never been one, but maybe it’s not entirely impossible?” Seungcheol amends. He shrugs. “I mean. Someone’s gotta do it first, right?”

What he does not say: you could sacrifice your career if it means giving other people a fighting chance in the future. You could be the one to take one for the team, but it would mean losing everything.

What’s worth more: your comfortability or your career?

“You don’t have to, like, try and make me feel better,” Mingyu says, groaning. He rubs at his temples. “It was stupid, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He thinks about Wonwoo, asleep in their bed at home. Undeserving of this. He wants to scream.

“No, I’m being serious,” Seungcheol nudges him. “Like, seriously, if anyone could do it, it’d be you.”

Mingyu sends him a wary look.

“Hyung,” he says slowly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You have all of those offers from Italy, right? Or Europe, or whatever?” Seungcheol asks. Which is odd. Because that has nothing to do with any of this. “You could play internationally, and then do it. You would have more support that way. It wouldn’t matter what people think back home.”

Mingyu blinks at him. Stares. Because what Seungcheol is suggesting is…

It’s…

It’s complete social suicide in Korea. It is. It would be a total annihilation of his domestic career, and he would never be able to play at home again, but it’s an option, and he’s right, and it’s not totally impossible…

Mingyu has established himself in every possible way, both in his home country and abroad. Everyone knows that he’s an asset, and they all know that he is the best player to come out of South Korea in the past few years. Coming out would tarnish his reputation, but his track record is honest.

He’s Korea’s ace. Nothing could take that away from him. Everyone knows it. That’s why he has all those offers to begin with.

“Oh,” Mingyu says, as it very slowly dawns on him. As he realizes that Seungcheol is not joking, but is giving him the only possible way for him to come out without destroying himself in the process. “Oh, shit.”

Seungcheol grins. Because while he is honest when he says that coming out would be a terrible idea, he is never a liar. And the plan he’s proposing is batshit insane, but it could work, and it could be the answer to everything.  

“Oh my god, hyung,” Mingyu says, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “You really think so?”

He’s only a few years into the V-League, but he’s getting offers to go abroad, and he was always going to take one of them eventually. But it just might be sooner than later. He always hesitated because of Wonwoo, but if this means that they could be happy… if this means that they could be out…

“I mean, why not?” Seungcheol asks. “What the fuck do the kids say? YOLO? I could get you set up with Minhyuk hyung. I can ask him what the vibes are like out there in Europe. It could be safe.”

“Safe,” Mingyu repeats, not able to believe it himself. “Huh.”

Safety. The idea of it is weird. Trying to imagine living without the secrecy and paranoia… he almost can’t imagine it.

But it would be good, wouldn’t it? It would be nice to get to hold Wonwoo’s hand while they go out on walks together. It would be nice to be able to stop hiding their matching rings. It would be nice if they could take the chains off their neck, the chains that differentiate them from everyone else. 

This all means nothing if it isn’t Wonwoo standing next to him. He’ll hide his whole life if it means staying with Wonwoo.

“I mean, let’s not get hasty,” Seungcheol says hurriedly. “It’s kind of a crazy idea. Talk to your boyfriend, first. His career isn’t much better. Take things slow.”

Mingyu’s heart is beating a little fast, at the sudden possibilities. His blood is roaring in his ears, thinking about the what ifs and the maybe we coulds. The mention of Wonwoo brings him back down to earth.

Any decision regarding coming out would be from both of them. Just because Mingyu could be safe doesn’t mean that Wonwoo would. And this plan would require both of them relocating to a new country and disregarding their Korean fanbases, and Wonwoo has never even expressed any interest in going with Mingyu when he inevitably goes abroad-

“Breathe, Mingyu,” Seungcheol pats his hand. “Everything is fine, hmm? You don’t have to make any decisions now.”

He’s right. Seungcheol squeezes his hand as Mingyu lets out one breath, then two, then three. There’s no need to get worked up. All he has to do is bide his time and figure things out day by day.

The past two years have been so wonderfully perfect, and none of this would even be worth it if Mingyu didn’t have Wonwoo by his side. He could spend the rest of his life out and proud, but not if it made Wonwoo suffer. He never wants Wonwoo to suffer.

He just has to be careful.

“Okay,” Mingyu breathes. “You’re right. Sorry.”

Seungcheol smiles. “Don’t worry about the future. If anyone deserves living a life full of peace, it’s you.” 

(16)

Mingyu doesn’t know what god he appeased that allows him to do something like text Jeon “GAM3RBO1” Wonwoo, but he does. And he’s not fucking around when he says that he could never be more grateful for something in his life. 

Wonwoo is cute. So, so cute.

@gam3rbo1: good morning 

@gam3rbo1: ignore that it is currently 2 pm

@min9yu_k: good morning hyung ^_^

@gam3rbo1: are you at the gym?

@min9yu_k: yuppp its leg day

Mingyu is aware that he’s whipped, and that he’s also a huge fucking loser. But Wonwoo puts up with it, so he doesn’t care.

@gam3rbo1: youre such a jock lmao

@min9yu_k: im an athlete -_-

@gam3rbo1: same thing

@gam3rbo1: and im the nerd :(

@min9yu_k: well…

@gam3rbo1: actually dont say anything

@min9yu_k: no comment

@gam3rbo1: SIGH

@min9yu_k: hehe

@gam3rbo1: go lift your weights or whatever u do at the gym

@min9yu_k: im on break rn

@min9yu_k: did you eat breakfast?

Mingyu already knows the answer to his question. Even from just a week of texting, he’s well aware that the first thing Wonwoo does is check his phone, and only ever remembers to eat when Mingyu reminds him.

Apparently, Wonwoo can’t cook for shit. It takes all of Mingyu’s self restraint to not offer to cook for him.

They’ve only met once! And he can’t come on too strong!

@gam3rbo1: … no comment

@min9yu_k: go eat!!!

@gam3rbo1: so bossy

@gam3rbo1: my dog has been fed and thats what matters

@min9yu_k: seollie pics???? PLS?????

@gam3rbo1: FINE….

Wonwoo sends several pictures of Seollie. Most of them are blurry from her running around. Mingyu imagines Wonwoo chasing her with his phone camera. Her eyes are round and big and there’s a bow in her hair. She’s cute - almost as cute as Wonwoo himself. Mingyu snorts to himself.

“What are you laughing at?” Seokmin asks, from where he’s doing bicep curls. “Did you take a weird photo of me again?”

“Not everything is about you,” Mingyu tells him. 

Seokmin looks offended. Serves him right. They both stick their tongues out at each other.

“No fighting!” Seungcheol bellows out from where he’s stretching. “Mingyu, Bumzu hyung has big plans for us today. Start stretching.”

Ugh. Mingyu would much rather talk to Wonwoo hyung about literally anything than start his stretches. He doesn’t mind working out, but talking to Wonwoo is much more fun in comparison. Plus, it doesn’t help how giddy he gets when Mingyu remembers that he has GAM3RBO1’s contact information.

@min9yu_k: awwww so cute

@min9yu_k: sry my teammates were distracting me

@gam3rbo1: do you need to go back??

@min9yu_k: no cheol hyung is just cranky bc we’re doing yoga later

@min9yu_k: he doesnt have the chill to namaste

@gam3rbo1: LOL

@gam3rbo1: hes kinda scary looking but i guess hes nice (?)

@min9yu_k: in like a dad way yeah

@min9yu_k: hes lame lets not talk ab him

“Yah, Kim Mingyu, it’s your turn!” Jeonghan comes into the gym and calls for him. “Bumzu hyung wants you for the weigh in.”

Mingyu would rather do anything else. He sighs.

@min9yu_k: UGH SRY I GTG

@min9yu_k: have to go do athlete shit

@gam3rbo1: ok have fun 

@min9yu_k: not fun T_T i would rather talk to you

@gam3rbo1: too bad! go do your athlete shit!!!

@gam3rbo1: i can text u when ur done ?

@min9yu_k: yes pls

@min9yu_k: talk to u later hyungggg

@gam3rbo1: see u later

“Kids these days are always glued to their damn phones,” Seungcheol snatches Mingyu’s phone literally right out of his hands and rolls his eyes, ignoring how Mingyu jaw drops, shocked at the audacity. “It’s your turn. Go.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu pouts, but complies anyways. Mostly for his own safety - Seungcheol has never held back on punishments, even if they have a game tomorrow. He’s kind of hardcore when it comes to training. “Fine, I’m going!”

Jeonghan smacks him on the ass as he walks by. Mingyu ignores him. Several people laugh as he leaves the room. Sucks for them all - Jeon Wonwoo is talking to him, not them, which makes him the luckiest guy in the world.

Chapter Text

(7)

After Mingyu is done with his military service, he breathes nothing but volleyball. 

The V-League is calling his name. He breezes through classes and studying and spends mornings and nights at the gym, always practicing, always training. He’s 23 and scouts have started to look his way more carefully at his college games. He just needs to keep up the momentum until he graduates, and a spot on the V-League is his. 

He practices things like charisma and his smile, which Jungkook absolutely bullies him for, but it helps him charm scouts and officials and gets him an in with players at other schools. The networking tricks his dad taught him that were meant for business school are now helping him land the gig of his dreams.

(He and his dad aren’t talking, not anymore, not since Mingyu left the military and told both of his parents that he was going to become a volleyball player. He went four years without telling him that that’s the reason he got into his top school - not for grades, but for volleyball.)

(They were not happy. Not at all.)

Two years ago, he took college a little less seriously. He used to go to parties and bar crawls and let both pretty girls and pretty boys talk to him while their hands traced his biceps. But now, he doesn’t drink outside of department functions. He keeps people a little at bay, a little far, everyone who doesn’t help him achieve his dreams. Because he learned the hard way that no one besides him cares about his future, at least not in the way that he wants.

It doesn’t matter. Mingyu doesn’t need anything but the court and a volleyball in his hand.

Eat, sleep, train. Spike, block, receive. It blends into a pattern. It’s the reason why more and more people are coming to him with contracts as his college career ends. He has offers from D2 and D3, and his coaches chastise him for not taking what he can get. Mingyu doesn’t care. He is going straight to the V-League, no matter what anyone says.

A prodigy, they call him. A monster.

Mingyu doesn’t care. He’s glad to be all of it.

(37)

The idea of Mingyu going to therapy doesn’t come as a suggestion, but rather, an order. From Wonwoo. 

They’re only a year into dating. It’s going well - well enough - but there are still times when Mingyu is too hesitant, too secretive, too scared, and Jeon Wonwoo has never been known for his patience. It’s during a conversation where they aren’t quite fighting, but Wonwoo is exhausted, over something they’ve rehashed a million times. 

The love is there, they both know, but the trust also has to be there. And, despite everything, sometimes it just isn’t. There, that is. Not for someone like Mingyu.

“Please, for the fucking love of god, schedule a therapy appointment,” Wonwoo says, hand rubbing at his temples. “Min. This can’t keep happening. It can’t.” 

Mingyu keeps his mouth closed. His first instinct is always to apologize and overcompensate, twist himself into something that Wonwoo likes more than he does right now, but the thing is that Wonwoo always sees right through him, and he hates it. He hates it when Mingyu puts on his celebrity smile and promises to change even though they both know that change needs more intervention than Wonwoo’s tired, passive-aggressive comments over dinner. Something more than the fact that they’re together and they love each other, because making things work requires so much more than that.

So Mingyu bites back the sorry, I’ll be better, and hangs his head. Tries to hold off on the puppy eyes that Wonwoo always accuses him of weaponizing. “I know,” he says, and hopes that it conveys what he really means. I know and you’re right and I hate this about myself, too, you know-

“Yeah. You do,” Wonwoo mutters, a little bitter. And then makes a face. “I’m not angry, but you know me. I’m tired.”

He does. Mingyu does. Even during these moments - even when things are tense - Wonwoo always still remembers to tell him that he’s not angry, just so Mingyu doesn’t spiral, and maybe that’s what does him in, in this moment. The fact that Wonwoo knows him so thoroughly and still chooses to love him anyhow. 

“Okay. I-” Mingyu digs through his head for the words. Comes up empty. “Yeah, hyung,” is what he settles on. Because saying anything else is unnecessary, not when Wonwoo already knows that he knows. Not when Mingyu’s trust issues are a thinly veiled secret, not when he still is surprised every time Wonwoo tells him he loves him, not when he clings onto all the affection Wonwoo spares for him like it could be taken away at any moment.

They both know, that’s the thing. So Mingyu casts his eyes back down at the ground and rubs his temple and tries to think of anything other than I’m sorry, I love you, you know that, right? I’d only ever try to be perfect for you, and I’m sorry. 

Wonwoo is sighing, and then stalks off into his office to start streaming, closing the door a little loudly. Seollie gives Mingyu a look that says something like: now look at what you’ve done. Mingyu gives her her dinner and pets her on the head, a little solemn. 

It’s nothing he doesn’t know. Honestly. Over the past year, his popularity has only increased, and the pressure and expectations have increased along with it. Pair that with international offers and brand deals and less time for the two of them to spend together, you get Mingyu doubting everything in front of him and Wonwoo trying desperately to not doubt himself all the while. 

So Mingyu takes the hint. His boyfriend can’t play therapist and there’s not enough room in this relationship for Mingyu to keep reopening old wounds, no matter how much it hurts - no matter how easy it is to do so - so that night he texts Seungkwan for suggestions and schedules himself an appointment. 

(“It doesn’t have to be forever, the therapy, you just-” Wonwoo says later, after Mingyu tells him about this next step and they’ve both calmed down. Mingyu, after going on a five mile run. Wonwoo, after streaming for four hours. “It can’t just me, you know. Or Jungkook.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says, craning over the stove, making ramyeon as an apology. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

Wonwoo drapes an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. Just, you know… put in the work.” Jeon Wonwoo language for get your shit together.  

“Next Wednesday,” Mingyu promises. “She deals with celebrities.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathes, and buries his face in Mingyu’s shoulder blade. “‘M proud of you. Nothing to be scared about. Okay?”

Mingyu squeezes Wonwoo’s hand. “Nothing to be scared about.”)

Wednesday comes quickly. He cuts his training short that day to drive the forty minutes to Yeouido. He doesn’t tell anyone else about it besides Minghao and Jungkook, sending the text: my boyfriend is having me go to therapy btw, and receiving the following replies: fucking finally and LET’S GO KMG!!!!, respectively.

Dr. Oh’s office is in a building that looks like every other business building in Seoul. He gets buzzed in and is greeted with decor that looks like something straight out of Joshua and Minghao’s art gallery. Sculptures that are all organic shapes and paintings that are nothing more than abstract blobs of color on a canvas. Taste that’s to be expected of such a high profile doctor, maybe, but it puts him on edge as he waits for name to be called. He’d be more comfortable if it was all less suffocatingly pretentious. 

Kind of reminds him of his parents.

“Kim-ssi?” the receptionist asks him, even though Mingyu is the only one in the waiting room. Hat and mask on and all, just in case. Mingyu nods and she beckons him to follow her back down a hallway, where they stop at a door at the end. 

The receptionist opens the door for him - impeccable service, really - and Mingyu steps in. 

He’s met with the sight of the presumed Dr. Oh sitting at a mahogany desk - very therapist-esque of her - who looks up at his arrival and smiles. There’s smile lines around her eyes. She looks kind.

Mingyu has always been kind of uncomfortable around older women, since they so often remind him of his mom and his aunts back in Anyang, but none of them ever smiled at him like this. Like he was worth the kindness.

“Kim Mingyu-ssi?” She asks. And then when Mingyu nods, “Come and sit down. It’s nice to meet you.”

Mingyu approaches. They shake hands. Mingyu’s palms are trembling. How long has it been since he’s been honest with anyone other than Wonwoo?

“I know it can be scary, but please try and relax,” she says, as Mingyu sits down on the chair across from her desk. “Is this your first time?”

“Um, yeah,” Mingyu says. His voice is a little hoarse, already overwhelmed. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Dr. Oh is still smiling. “Let’s just go over some things first, and then we’ll get started. It’ll be slow, no pressure, hm?”

Mingyu nods. “Okay.”

Introductions are brief. Dr. Oh has an outstanding resume and specializes in trauma, which is what Mingyu supposes he needs. Someone to work him through his trauma. They will meet once a week or even more or less if he needs it. They will take things slow. They don’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. 

“I should have you know that everything between us is confidential, unless you express something which I think puts you or others in danger - in which case, the authorities will be contacted.” Dr. Oh says. “Does that make sense, Mingyu-ssi?”

“Uh - yeah,” Mingyu replies, a little lamely. He’s well versed in NDAs and contracts, so something as simple as the PIPA code is a little… underwhelming. There’s nothing for him to sign, after all. “I got it.”

“Alright, good,” she hums, jotting something down on a notepad. “Sorry for my principal’s office scenario, I just wanted to get everything sorted first. Would you like to sit somewhere more comfortable?”

She gestures to the couch and armchair situation that Mingyu didn’t even notice when he was walking in. It’s situated in the corner of the room, against floor to ceiling windows. More comfortable than where he’s currently sitting, for sure. 

“Oh, yeah,” he breathes. Desperate for anything that’ll put him less on edge. “That sounds great.”

And so they go.

Mingyu always figured that the movies were exaggerating when they would have the therapist taking notes on a chair while the patient laid on the couch, and yet. Mingyu sits with his legs crossed, unsure what the usual protocol is for these types of things. Maybe he should ask Wonwoo about it, later. 

His foot shakes, restless. There’s a line of sweat at his hairline and he finally, finally takes off his mask. Perhaps he was more nervous for this than he thought he’d be. 

“So, Mingyu-ssi,” Dr. Oh begins. “What brings you here today?” 

It’s a non-invasive question, and yet Mingyu already feels like he’s being pried open and dissected. After keeping all of his cards to his chest for so long, surviving on his own, even just the expectation of honesty to a stranger sets his heart racing.

He fidgets. Searches for a proper answer, one that isn’t too revealing. 

“My boyfriend asked me to try therapy,” is what Mingyu ends up saying. It’s close enough to the truth and he tries to emphasize the word boyfriend just so she knows what she’s working with. Dr. Oh gives no reaction to that information, thankfully. “He thinks it’ll help me. I have issues to sort out, ones that I’ve never really tried to work through… so yeah.”

“I see,” she says. “Are you comfortable with being more specific about these issues?”

Mingyu hands roll up into fists before he even realizes. Clenches, unclenches. He’s always been bad at hiding things, but this obvious reaction to the mere idea of laying himself bare has his brain spiraling, a little bit.

“How specific?” He asks. “I, um. I’m not great with… you know…” He searches for the word. “Trust. I guess.”

She hums. Still smiling, though it’s more subdued. In understanding, maybe. 

“As specific as you want,” she offers. “I’m not going to pry anything out of you.”

That soothes Mingyu’s fears, a little bit. Thankfully. He feels his shoulders untense and he tries to think. 

The trust issues are obvious. Plenty blatant. Mingyu figures it’s common amongst celebrities, anyhow, which Dr. Oh would understand. It’s embarrassing to admit that he’s so clearly affected by his parents, even all these years later, but it’s the truth. And he should be telling the truth.

“When I was growing up,” he says, “there were a lot of, um. Expectations, I guess, on me. And I don’t think I ever really learned how to live without them.” He pauses. “So there’s some trust issues and I want to work through them.”

“Ah,” she says, understanding. “Does it come from your parents? The trust issues?”

“Among other things, yeah,” Mingyu says. “I kind of… built my life around making them happy. For a really long time. And I’m trying to figure out how to change that, or, like, make it into not such a big deal. If that makes sense.”

“It does, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says, like she just knows. “It takes a lot of work to un-do something that’s been so integral to your life, Mingyu-ssi. Coming to therapy was a great first step.”

Mingyu doesn’t know why, but that makes him chuckle. “You can thank my boyfriend for that.”

She grins. “Your boyfriend is a smart man.”

From there, they talk about basic things. What Mingyu does for work, his home life. His family structure - two parents, a younger sister. She asks if he gets panic attacks. He says he doesn’t. She asks if he gets nightmares. He says he doesn’t think so. It’s not PTSD, really, it’s something else. Something that’s been wired into his DNA, something he was born into. 

“My dad,” Mingyu says, “he had all these hopes for me. That I was going to go into business like him, start a company, start a family. He wanted me to produce an heir, or whatever. He wanted my life to match his.”

“And you didn’t do that, did you?” Dr. Oh asks, writing something down.

Mingyu laughs. “Not even a little bit.”

Talking about uni is still hard. Talking about the days where it was him and his futon and his shoebox of an apartment, eating canned chicken and cafeteria rice and running all kinds of odd jobs just to keep up with tuition. He’s thankful, of course, that he was even able to survive that period of his life, let alone make it to the V-League at the end of it. But he thinks about the last Chuseok he spent with his parents, how the disappointment had echoed in their voices. How he had no one to welcome him home when he was done with his service. How the world had not waited for him, and so Kim Mingyu had to be the one to take the world in his hand for himself. 

It’s disorienting, to be who he is. To have lived the life where he was subservient to his parents, but also lived the life as Kim Mingyu the Volleyball Player, but also lived the life as Kim Mingyu: Jeon Wonwoo’s Boyfriend. There’s the constant push and pull between his heart and his mind and his memories, and it goes back to how he was wired, the way his nerves fire off in the way that was programmed to please his parents above all else. 

Trust issues are one thing, yes, but it is an entirely different thing when Mingyu sometimes feels trapped in his own skin. Like he needs to claw his way out. 

“I just-” Mingyu says, and then stops. “Sometimes I just feel so lost. Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing anymore.”

That’s the only way he can think to describe it, really. As being lost in the space between himself and the thing that he’s supposed to be. As being the person he is and the person he was designed to be, bred to be, born in the image of perfection.

Dr. Oh hums. “You feel lost?”

Mingyu just shrugs. “That’s what it feels like.”

She nods. Easy to please, now that he’s talking. “Tell me about it, then.”

And so he does. 

How do you put it into words? Always feeling like there’s eyes on you? Like someone’s always hovering over your shoulder? He’s heard about it happening to religious people, where they feel like God is always listening in on them. But Mingyu’s guilt isn’t religious, it is instinctual, it is learned from his father’s belt. It makes him feel as if he’s being watched, which is funny, because he is. He is a celebrity and Korea’s #1 volleyball player and yet the fact that he’s being watched is what scares him the most. 

The world waits for him to make one wrong move. One misstep, one missed spike, one serve an inch over the line. It’s exhausting. It haunts him in the hours when he isn’t playing, the need to overcompensate. To be better and better and better. Except now he is the best, and what does he do with that? What do you do once you’ve done everything you’ve ever wanted to do?

Volleyball was never supposed to be a finish line, to prove something, except it is. And now Mingyu has proved himself and all he’s left with is his hands. 

“I think-” Mingyu starts, and then stops. And then tries again. “I think I need to, like. I don’t know. Try and find myself. Or something.”

“Find yourself…” she echoes. “Maybe figure out who you were before you were Kim Mingyu? Who you were before you were everything to everyone else?”

She puts it into words that make him feel a little nauseous, but are true nonetheless. Because, to a lot of people, he is everything. To a lot of people, he is infallible and perfect. To a lot of people, he is nothing more than a deity, something nearly intangible.

Not to himself, though. Never to himself. Because nothing has ever felt more real to him than his own never-ending terror. 

Mingyu nods. “Yeah.”

Not an entire answer, but… you know. Close enough. She nods, too. Sits and thinks for a second, and then looks as if understanding is dawning on her. 

“Well, do you remember any of that? Do you remember who you were before you were Kim Mingyu?” She asks. “Before any of the stuff with your parents or your fame?”

Mingyu shakes his head. He doesn’t even need to think about that one. “No. Not at all. There’s, like, a me that existed before all of this, I think, and I don’t know who that is,” he says. “Before my parents had me in that box to be perfect. Or maybe it was groomed in me from the start? But I don’t really know who I am without the pressure. Or even now… it sometimes feels like… Like this whole thing is just me, like, rebelling. Against them.”

Dr. Oh writes something down. “Rebellion, huh? And you’re 28.”

“Yeah, well, it was this - this whole thing,” Mingyu begins. “When I was a kid, in high school, I’d think about how one day I’d be this famous volleyball player and I’d maybe have a boyfriend. And all of the stuff I would get to do if I didn’t listen to them. And now I’ve done that, all of it, and it feels… I don’t know. Like I’ve done something wrong.”

“That makes sense, yes,” she agrees. “If you work something all your life and suddenly you have it, it can be disorienting. Have you told your boyfriend this?”

Mingyu sighs. Because this isn’t something he’s proud to admit, even to a psychologist. “Not- not exactly. But I think he knows. Sometimes he just knows, like, everything, and it feels like being ripped open. And it gets overwhelming.” He laughs, a little shakily. “I’ve told him a lot, but I was too scared to tell him that sometimes I just feel empty, because… I don’t know. Maybe he’d leave me?”

Dr. Oh hums. Like she’s starting to finally get a handle on him. 

Mingyu shrugs, a little lame. Losing his grip on any other words. “And that’s the problem, I guess.”

Laying it all out there on the table, for someone else to analyze, is something he’s never done before. Not even for Wonwoo - or Jungkook - who know him both inside and out, who have inklings of every fear he’s ever had, because sometimes he’s still just so blatantly terrified of everything. There are still moments where his perfectly crafted mask of security slips off. Horrifying moments.

And Mingyu doesn’t like being dissected. He’s had enough of it, between his parents and the fame and the never-ending physical exams where every nook and cranny of his body is poked and prodded and examined to see if he’s still good, still useful, still worthy of what he has. For the Olympics, commentators comb through every part of your life. Why doesn’t Kim Mingyu-ssi have any family cheering for him in the stands? one of them said, after a short documentary had been done on his career and unlike other athletes, there were no shots of supportive family members to be seen. Only him and the ball.

It’s just like that all over again. Laying the bruised parts of his brain open for Dr. Oh has his guts twisting into knots. It feels like he’s too honest, too vulnerable, too easy to hurt. Too susceptible to pain, even after all the years he’s had to grow from it. 

He clenches his jaw. 

“Sometimes…” he starts. “Sometimes I still forget that they don’t control me.” He looks down at his hands. “Sometimes I still feel guilty when I kiss my boyfriend, or when he says he loves me, and sometimes I forget that he even loves me at all.” 

“I understand, Mingyu-ssi,” she says, voice soft. “It feels hard to unlearn everything, doesn’t it?”

Mingyu nods. “I guess I always thought that love was conditional, you know? And here’s someone who loves me unconditionally. Not because I’m famous or handsome, but just because he likes me.” He inhales, exhales. “I don’t know how to tell him, sometimes, how scared I am. How grateful I am that he’s even with me. How much I want him to stay.”

His words hang heavy in the air. He’s never even admitted that to himself, the insecurity that stretches down to his bones, because Wonwoo is someone who needs him to be strong. Wonwoo needs him to be Kim Mingyu the Infallible and Kim Mingyu the Supportive Boyfriend and Kim Mingyu Who is Secure in Himself. Except Mingyu isn’t any of those things, really, and how do you even admit something so pathetic about yourself to the love of your life?

“I have a feeling,” Dr. Oh says slowly, “that your boyfriend would like to hear that from you. Do you want me to help you figure out a way to tell him?”

Mingyu thinks about Wonwoo, asking him to go to therapy and slamming the office door shut but still sleeping with his face in Mingyu’s collarbone, and the way Wonwoo’s face lights up when Mingyu comes home from practice, and the way Wonwoo leans towards him, always in his orbit, revolving around Mingyu like he is the sun.

He would like to be worthy of the devotion Wonwoo gives him. The unconditionality of it. Worthy of the kind of love that never makes him feel lonely.

“I would, actually,” Mingyu says, voice raw. “I would really, really like your help.” 

(18)

Today is the day. Mingyu is going to hang out with Wonwoo, for the first time since they met at karaoke. Even if it’s not a date, at least not really, Mingyu is determined to make it a good one.

Practice goes well enough - he’s on fire, a little bit, because he’s excited. Coach tells him to cool it on the overeager laps a couple times, scolding him for using up too much energy, but Mingyu can’t help it. He’s excited. Wonwoo hyung is coming to watch him play.

(Wonwoo has seen him play before, of course, back at the finals game. But Mingyu didn’t know that he was there, then, so the excitement didn’t set in. Now that he knows that Wonwoo will watch him, really watch him, he can’t help but get fired up.)

“There’s something wrong with you,” Minho observes, one of the senior players. He’s a wing spiker, and his swing is the closest anyone else can get to Mingyu’s. “You have a date today, or what?”

Mingyu can’t help his grin. It’s not a date, per say…

“Kim Mingyu has a date?” Taeju, one of their middle blockers, perks up. Because he’s the nosiest person Mingyu knows. “After your years of celibacy?”

“Years of celibacy-!” Mingyu goes red. “Are you crazy?”

He’s been so busy since he’s been in college, between the V-League and sponsorships, that he hasn’t dated anyone. It’s also because he’s a flaming bisexual with a preference for men, but it’s not like many people know that. It all has led his teammates to believe that Mingyu, despite his abs and sex appeal, is either celibate or waiting for a pretty girl to be “the one.”

Oh boy, are they wrong.

He is much more interested in 6'0” tall gamers with messy hair and glasses, who are way too good at League of Legends and absolutely horrible at cooking.

“This is what happens when you get too much pussy,” Kwangsoo, their newest wing spiker says. Mingyu hates him on principle because he’s Incheon’s ace, but also because he’s annoying as fuck. “You become delusional.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Seungcheol calls. “Focus on practice and leave him alone.”

Several guys boo at him, annoyed that they can’t bother Mingyu further (he’s the punching bag of the National team, after all, always targeted by the guys - half because most of them are his seniors, half because it’s funny to push around the #1 volleyball player in the country), but they all listen to Seungcheol anyway. Thank god.

Mingyu puts an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulders and squeezes. “Hyung, I love you,” he says.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes and pats his head. “Yeah, yeah. Calm down and focus on your drills.”

After that, Mingyu does focus more on practice. He gets dragged into the competitive spirit between the other guys, who love to goad him on. “Watch your nasty-ass swing, I’m not trying to lose an arm!” Kwangsoo yelps, because he sucks at receiving. Mingyu grins and aims his spike at him again, laughing when the coach tells him that Kwangsoo “needs the practice anyway.”

They start a practice game, and Mingyu gets sucked into the energy of that too. Moonjae, Incheon’s setter, is paired up with Mingyu against Jeonghan and Minho. He’s their second setter after Jeonghan, so he has to practice with him for when Jeonghan gets subbed out. Seokmin is also on the other team, which is fun, because it’s not often that he gets to receive Mingyu’s spikes. 

“Nice dive!” Seungcheol calls out, after Seokmin digs up Mingyu’s spike for the fifth time. He has yet to let a single one hit the ground. Mingyu can get through blockers no problem, but it becomes an issue when his best friend is the number one libero in the country. 

“Hyung, you’re on our team,” Mingyu complains. “Don’t compliment him.”

Seungcheol shrugs. “He’s still my kid.”

The teams are pretty much even, but Jeonghan’s side wins in the end. Minho and Mingyu’s rivalry gets to live another day, and Mingyu is grateful that Minho is deep into his 30s and doesn’t taunt him like, say, Kwangsoo would. They shake hands and take a water break before practice is done for the day.

“So, when’s your date?” Taeju passes him a towel. “Is she cute?”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “There’s no date. But yes, they are very cute.”

Several guys ooh at him, completely missing Mingyu’s use of gender neutral pronouns. They’re all too painfully straight to notice. 

“I want pictures!” Kwangsoo complains, putting an arm around Mingyu’s shoulders. “Come on. Share.”

Mingyu shoves him away. “Don’t be gross.”

They annoy him some more, before Seungcheol comes over. Mingyu is grateful for the reprieve. “Yah, Mingyu,” Seungcheol gestures up at the stands. “He’s here.”

Mingyu’s eyes follow Seungcheol’s gesture, eyes landing on Wonwoo sitting in the stands, talking to Jeonghan and Seokmin (who is doing the thing where he hangs off the railing, again. Even though they all beg him to stop, he keeps doing it). 

Oh, right! Their… not-date. Mingyu leaves the rest of the guys behind in the dust and bounds over to where the two are standing.

“Wonwoo hyung!” Mingyu cheers, coming over to stand next to Jeonghan. 

Wonwoo looks at him, then. He grins. “Mingyu.”

Heh. That smile, all for him. “Are they bothering you, hyung?” Mingyu asks, while Jeonghan is busy pulling Seokmin by the ankles, who yelps and says “okay, damn! I’ll come down!” Mingyu ignores them and adds: “We’re done for the day. Give me like twenty minutes, and then I can meet you.”

Wonwoo looks at the other two, a little wary, but he’s still smiling. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

Ugh. And he’s so kind and understanding too! Mingyu wants to kiss that smile off of his face. “Well, wait for me, okay?” Mingyu says, giddy as can be. “And ignore these idiots. They’re annoying.”

“Hey!” Seokmin says, offended, as Jeonghan leads them both away. The coach calls for a group huddle before they hit the showers - “Okay, boys, gather up!” Mingyu waves at Wonwoo and jogs off.

“Be right back!”

Does Mingyu pay attention to anything the coach says? Absolutely not. His not-date is waiting for him in the bleachers and Mingyu bounces on the heels of his feet until they all race off to the locker room.

“Definitely a date,” Taeju observes, peeling his shirt off.

“Who was that guy?” Kwangsoo asks.

“None of your business!” Mingyu calls, peeling off his sweaty practice clothes and hopping right in the shower. The guys continue grumbling, but he can hear Jeonghan telling them all to shut up. Serves them right.

He speedruns his shower - which the guys tease him for, endlessly - and he stuffs everything into his duffle and bounds out of the locker room, up towards the stands.

Wonwoo is waiting for him, scrolling on his phone.

Mingyu can’t help his smile. “Hyung, I’m back,” he calls. 

Wonwoo turns around, a little startled, and his expression softens when he sees that it’s Mingyu. Mingyu’s heart does several thousand backflips in his chest, just because he’s so damn lucky that Wonwoo hyung is only looking at him.  

“You should dry your hair,” Wonwoo says, eyes zeroing in on his head. “You’re gonna get a cold.”

Oh, he’s so sweet. Despite his cold demeanor and sarcastic attitude, Wonwoo is doting in his own way, and Mingyu loves it. He pouts anyway, just because Wonwoo blushes every time he does. “Well, hello to you too. It’ll dry on its own.”

Wonwoo shakes his head and stands up to join him. “Okay, fine, Mr. Olympian. But don’t come crying to me when you get sick.”

Mingyu sticks his tongue out at him, and says “I’ll cope.” Bantering with Jeon Wonwoo has improved his life in every way, and he is not going to forget that, not ever. He takes Wonwoo’s elbow and leads him up the stairs. 

“Where are we going?” Wonwoo asks, not shaking him off. 

Mingyu is thrilled. He smiles. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he says, and then they’re off. For their “not-date.”

(40)

One thing that Mingyu likes about their relationship, in some twisted way, is that Wonwoo doesn’t expect anything from him.

Mingyu comes home to their apartment, tired and sore from practice, and Wonwoo just asks if he had a good day. There’s no did you beat out everyone else? or are you improving any of your stats? Wonwoo just smiles and sinks into his side and asks Mingyu to stroke his hair.

Which he does, of course. But he always gets a little distracted by how damn lucky he is.

Growing up, there was never not the expectation to be perfect, and it’s something that Mingyu carries with him even now, even though he and his parents don’t really talk anymore. There was always the unspoken voice asking when he’ll get even better, when he’ll become better than everyone else. He can still see it in the way people look at him, in the way they scrutinize him.

So what, you’re the best Korea has to offer? Who cares? Be better.

It’s funny, thinking about how Mingyu’s last boyfriend from college cared so much about how much Mingyu could lift, whereas Wonwoo gets surprised everytime Mingyu can carry all of their grocery bags in one trip.

(“Oh, I forgot how strong you were,” Wonwoo says, poking at his bicep. “You’re not using steroids, right?”

“Hyung,” Mingyu complains. “You can’t keep asking me that.”)

Wonwoo doesn’t care about his money or how good he is at volleyball or how handsome he is (though he does buy every single one of Mingyu’s editorials and keeps them in a drawer in his desk, and Mingyu pretends he doesn’t know about it). He just cares that Mingyu is happy - he cares about volleyball, because that’s what makes Mingyu happy.

No one had ever cared about volleyball before, at least not enough to convince Mingyu that they actually did. Wonwoo is so different from everyone else, and it only makes Mingyu love him even more.

Tonight, he gets home and Wonwoo is streaming. He’s playing League, of course, never able to abandon his Masters rank. Seollie circles around Mingyu’s legs as he pokes his head in.

“I’m home,” he waves at the back of Wonwoo’s head - not because Wonwoo can hear him, but because chat can see him in the background. After about 30 seconds of him standing and staring, Wonwoo notices.

“Mingyu-yah,” he turns and calls. He smiles, soft because he’s not looking at the camera. “How was your day?”

Mingyu sighs, coming in close and waving to chat. “Long. Is everyone behaving?”

Chat fills will yes father o7 and HI DAD and Mingyu is home yippee!!!! Over time, chat has adopted Mingyu as their own. Wonwoo pretends like it’s annoying, but Mingyu knows that he secretly loves it - and loves his fans - no matter how much he complains about them.

“They’re fine,” Wonwoo shrugs, entering queue for his next game. “I’ll play for another hour. Do you wanna order dinner?”

Mingyu wanted to cook tonight, but Bumzu was sort of mean about his weight regimen today, so his shoulders are sore and Mingyu has no complaints. “Alright. I’ll get chicken, hmm?”

Wonwoo gives a thumbs up and turns back to his PC. “Sounds good.”

And, well, that’s all the attention Mingyu can get out of him while he’s streaming. If Wonwoo looks at him too much, the affection becomes too blatant (according to their friends), so they try to keep it brief and on the down low. 

“Bye, chat!” Mingyu smiles, and blows them a kiss.

“Yah,” Wonwoo says, voice flat. “Go away.”

Jealous from one little measly kiss, hm? Mingyu laughs.

“Okay, I’m going!” He ruffles Wonwoo’s hair and slips out of the room. He’ll probably be paying for that later, but it’s not like that's a bad thing. Wonwoo hyung only gets cuter when he’s angry.

His boyfriend is amazing. He’s the best. Mingyu hums to himself while he orders their dinner. There’s no one else in this world like Jeon Wonwoo, and Mingyu intends on keeping him to himself, thank you very much.

And the first step to his plan is buying them a very tasty fried chicken dinner. Yup, he’s got this in the bag.

(9)

This isn’t Mingyu’s first interview - not even his first major interview, not by a long shot - but he’s still a little nervous as he sits under the lights of W Men Korea’s interview set. He gets more and more used to the fame with every passing interview and editorial and photoshoot, but it’s still a little intimidating at times.

Like now.

He was under the impression that they were going for a soft, boyish concept, but they styled him in a sleeveless shirt that shows off his biceps. So, in other words, they’re highlighting his best assets. 

(Back when he first debuted in the V-League, fresh out of college, they spent a lot of time making him do boyish concepts. Maybe he’s finally too old for that now…?)

“That’s a little horny,” Jeonghan comments passively from off-camera, since it’s his turn next. Looking up only briefly from his phone, he adds: “Good for you.”

Mingyu frowns. “Wasn’t my idea.”

“And yet you’re so good at it,” Jeonghan replies, the sarcasm underlying his voice. He snaps a quick picture and Mingyu blinks, slightly offended. 

“You can’t say that and then use me for content,” Mingyu accuses.

Jeonghan waves a hand at him, unbothered. “Too bad. It’s going on my Instagram story.”

It’s the four stars of the Bluefangs getting interviewed today, though separately. Seungcheol is still getting his makeup done, and Seokmin is still in the dressing room. Considering that they put Jeonghan in a very modest crewneck and jeans, Mingyu hopes that it doesn’t get any more revealing than this.

It probably won’t. Hopefully.

“Mingyu-ssi, are you ready to start?” Minji, the PD, asks. They’ve worked with her before. She’s nice.

Mingyu nods. “I’m ready.”

The director counts down and Mingyu levels his gaze to the teleprompter, slipping his expression into something open and casual. Everyone likes it when he smiles like this.

“Action!”

“Hi, my name is Kim Mingyu,” Mingyu says, voice warm and friendly. “I’m a middle blocker for the South Korean Men’s National Volleyball Team.”

He smiles at the camera. One of the PDs coo at him. The teleprompter says: FIRST QUESTION - WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO DO IN YOUR FREE TIME?

“Hmm, the first question… What do I like to do in my free time?” He pauses to think for a second. He maintains his charming, winning smile. “I like to watch movies and hangout with my friends, mostly.”

It’s kind of a boring answer, but these are never meant to get too personal anyway. The PDs give him a thumbs up.

“I watched Extreme Job, recently, and it was really funny, so I recommend that,” Mingyu says. And then, without even thinking: “And I like watching stuff on Twitch.”

Oh, fuck. He didn’t even mean to say that.

Off camera, Jeonghan muffles a snicker. Mingyu ignores him, smile twitching a little. Well, he dug this grave. He better commit to it.

“There’s this guy…” Mingyu trails off and nervously laughs a little. He turns his brain off, trying not to overthink what he says next. “His name is GAM3RBO1. I’ve been watching him since he was in T1. I really like his streams. I have one of his jerseys. His voice is soothing, so I listen to his streams to go to sleep.”

Jeonghan actually hides his face in his hands, then, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. Mingyu did not intend to expose his sleeping habits to all of Korea today, especially not the fact that he listens to GAM3RBO1’s voice to fall asleep. He feels his ears burn and continues on anyway.

“I’m his fan, so this is kind of embarrassing to say. And I doubt he likes volleyball very much. But I hope everyone checks him out, because he’s a great creator.” Mingyu finishes, a little flustered.

Well, he nailed the ending, at least. Hopefully GAM3RBO1 never sees this interview, ever.

The PD signals for him to move on, and Mingyu tries to smooth his expression back over. The teleprompter says: HOW ARE YOU GETTING READY FOR THE OLYMPICS?

Mingyu smiles and continues: “Next, how am I getting ready for the Olympics? Well…”

He falls back into his celebrity persona, giving his usual generic athlete answers for the rest of the interview. He doesn’t remember much after that.

When he’s finally let off of set, after they take b-roll and closeups, Mingyu is quick to get up from the uncomfortable interview chair and grab a bottle of water from the staff table. As he soothes his sore throat, Jeonghan saddles up to him.

Uh-oh.

“So,” Jeonghan says conversationally. “Twitch, huh?”

Mingyu’s face burns red, immediately. “Shut up.”

“You should’ve told them about how you make us watch all of his streams at the gym and how you can’t sleep unless you hear your GAM3RBO1’s voice in your ears,” Jeonghan teases him. Mingyu wants to sink down onto the floor and become one with the concrete.

“Hyung,” Mingyu whines, desperate to move past this. “Please don’t.”

“I’m just saying that you managed to confess your love for him in a Youtube video,” Jeonghan pats him on the back. “It’s impressive.”

Mingyu groans and puts his head in his hands.

Love, huh? Yeah, that sounds about right. 

“Oh, Kim Mingyu,” an arm wraps around his shoulders. Seokmin worms his way into the conversation (as he always does), and leans in, conspiringly. “I heard something about a love confession?”

Mingyu swats him away. “Absolutely not.”

“He talked about GAM3RBO1,” Jeonghan offers, because he’s the meanest person on this earth. “It was during the interview.”

Seokmin’s eyebrows raise, way too close to his hairline. “In an interview, Mingyu? Are you shameless or what?”

Mingyu sighs, accepting defeat. This is the worst. His crush was already public knowledge amongst their teammates (however none of them - besides the four of them - know that it’s an actual crush, and not just like hero worship or something like that), and now it’ll be public knowledge amongst the public.

Mingyu can kiss his peace and quiet goodbye.

“He probably won’t see it, right?” Mingyu asks in a small voice, face bright red and ears burning. “It won’t be, like, a big deal or anything. Right?”

Jeonghan and Seokmin give him matching expressions that say: you’re fucked.

“I have a feeling that he might,” Jeonghan shrugs.

“You are much more famous than you think,” Seokmin reminds him.

Mingyu groans again and sits in a corner of the studio, depressed, for the rest of the shoot day.

It’s when he gets home in the evening that he gets a text from Seungcheol:

From: coups: so when hannie says that you confessed your love to that one streamer on video he was joking right

From: coups: right????

(43)

They’re in California and it’s fucking hot, and Wonwoo looks like he’d rather die than be here. “Smile, baby, this is your thing,” Mingyu attempts to encourage him. 

Wonwoo makes a face.

“It’s hot,” he says, voice taking on the subtle whining tone that it only ever has around Mingyu. “There’s too many people.”

Well, he has a point. They’re at Twitchcon, of all places.

It’s packed to the brim, with fans and creators alike. Everyone has a vlog camera or a streaming backpack, and the two of them almost stand out more because they have neither. Masked up, they’re burning alive in the Cali sun.

As much as Wonwoo has spent the past two weeks complaining about his obligation to be here, he’s most definitely excited to be a part of the League of Legends esports panel later today. Getting through customs was a pain and the flight was long, but the excitement of the convention is palpable. Wonwoo also insisted on Mingyu being his translator for English speakers (embarrassing, but it gives him an excuse to be here, so he’s not complaining), so they both got their creator badges.

There’s a couple security guards flanking them, just in case. Wonwoo has been mobbed at enough LCK finals games for it to be necessary, much to his disappointment.

(“It’s for safety, hyung,” Mingyu had reminded him this morning.

Wonwoo grumbled. “They’re wearing suits, Min, I look like a celebrity. It’s weird.”

Mingyu did not have the heart to remind Wonwoo that he is, in fact, a celebrity.)

“Babe, you have eight million followers,” Mingyu points out. 

Wonwoo sends him a look. “And?”

Okay, he knows when to give up on that line of convincing - if Wonwoo gets any more grumbly today, they are going to have a bad time, and Mingyu still, even after two years, has trouble getting Wonwoo to stop being in a mood.  

(Unless it involves sex. Mingyu has no issues pulling the brat out of him in that case).

So Mingyu just laughs and puts an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders and drags him into the convention center. They get stares from other people, as security guards part a way through the crowd for them. Mingyu pulls his hat down over his eyes. Just in case.

“GAMER BOI?” Someone says in perfect English, incredulous, from the crowd. 

Wonwoo stiffens and waves a little stiltedly. Mingyu pulls him a little closer and says low, into his ears: “Mr. Worldwide, huh?”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo says. “You’re an Olympian.”

Arguing about who’s more famous is a bit of a contentious point between them, mostly because they’re both plenty stubborn, entirely unwilling to give up their points. But the point now is that today is Wonwoo’s day to be the more famous one out of the two of them, which Mingyu has no qualms about (unless the fans start getting pushy. In that case, Mingyu also has no qualms about pushing back). 

They keep attracting stares as they make their way through the crowded convention floor. Mingyu is actually surprised by the amount of people who recognize Wonwoo, even in the US, but he supposes that when it comes to League, he’s just as much of a household name as Faker is.

“Is that Kim Mingyu?” Someone even shouts at them. Wonwoo stiffens and Mingyu laughs and waves back, good naturedly. 

“We got caught immediately,” Wonwoo nudges him. “Your fault for being a giant.”

Mingyu holds back his scoff, just barely, because their height difference is literally only two and a half inches. “I think it’s because any fan of yours knows me, hyung,” Mingyu points out. “It’d be hard for them to not realize.”

It’s true. A good portion of Mingyu’s fans are now not just volleyball fanboys, but Twitch viewers who like Wonwoo. They flood his replies every time he tweets.

“I’m starting to realize that we aren’t great at subtlety,” Wonwoo points out. “And we’re pretty bad at tricking people.”

Mingyu laughs. “Hyung, it’s been this way for years now.”

They get dropped off at a creator lounge, right off the convention floor. It’s connected to the back hallways they use to get between panels, so they don’t have to try and navigate the floor anymore. Thank god.

The lounge is full of other creators, none of which Mingyu recognizes (his scope of Twitch streamers outside of Korea is pretty much non-existent). To Wonwoo’s horror, it seems like everybody recognizes him.

They get wide stares from everyone, and Wonwoo pretty conveniently avoids eye contact with all of them. Mingyu smiles, steers Wonwoo towards the refreshments table, and realizes that even though this is Wonwoo’s thing, he’s going to end up doing most of the talking.

(Again.)

“What do I do if they come up to us?” Mingyu asks Wonwoo. Hopefully none of these people know Korean and overhear the two of them talk shit. “Should I pretend that I don’t know English?”

That makes Wonwoo smile, and he leans the slightest bit into Mingyu’s side. Just enough for Mingyu to notice it, but not enough to draw any more attention to them. Or, like, signify outright they are a gay couple. “Just stop looking so friendly,” he teases. “If you smile at everyone, they’ll come up to us.”

As much as Mingyu wants to snark back, he has a point - even though it feels wrong to not be friendly, that’s part of his whole schtick. So he follows Wonwoo’s advice and avoids their eyes as he and Wonwoo get their free coffee from the table and move to stand off in a corner.

“Do you think any of them know who I am?” He asks.

Wonwoo looks around, eyes squinting. “Well, I hope not. I don’t know anyone here, so it’d be good if they didn’t know us.”

Mingyu elects not to point out that everyone here very clearly knows who GAM3RBO1 is, by the wide berth they’re giving him. Mingyu just takes a sip of his coffee and smiles into it, a little smug about this whole ordeal.

It’s kind of awesome that his boyfriend is so popular here. Too bad he’s Mingyu’s.

Thirty minutes before the panel starts, they make their way to the appropriate room. Thankfully, one other person on the panel is a Korean streamer who Wonwoo knows, so they get to talking about flights and how much LAX sucks and the new League of Legends patch notes. It’s the most comfortable Wonwoo has looked the whole trip. If the guy recognizes Mingyu, he doesn’t say it, so Mingyu introduces himself as Wonwoo’s translator and gives a respectable bow.

Wonwoo elbows him in the side, hard. The guy laughs.

Yup. He definitely knows who Mingyu is.

The panel goes well. Mingyu ends up translating for both of them as they talk. The other people on the panel are other big streamers and esports players, from all over the world. It turns out that the other Korean guy is also ex-T1. 

Mingyu steps back as Wonwoo signs autographs and takes pictures. He’s so cute, in his big white t-shirt (wait a sec… no, that’s definitely Mingyu’s…), smiling at the cameras. He gets a few gifts and fan art every now and then, and blushes all shyly. Mingyu wants to pinch his cheeks.

If only this was more like a Korean fansigning, where fans give accessories. Mingyu has been dying to see Wonwoo in cat ears for years.

“Kim Mingyu, right?” Someone asks Wonwoo in English - a young girl, maybe in her 20s. She points right at Mingyu. 

Wonwoo sighs and beckons him over. Mingyu smiles. “You caught me,” he says in English.

“It’s kind of obvious,” she laughs, and Mingyu not-so-subtly nudges Wonwoo: I told you so. “Could I get a picture of the two of you? My brother is a big fan.”

“Of course, your brother is a very cultured man,” Mingyu agrees, and drags Wonwoo close so they can pose together. 

She smiles, and holds up her phone. They stick up matching peace signs and smile. She takes the picture. 

“Is that good?” Mingyu asks when Wonwoo starts fidgeting next to him. Still always uncomfortable in front of cameras despite the fact that that’s, like, what half of his job entails. 

“Yeah, thanks!” She says. “It means a lot. Have a good day!”

She runs off, back through the crowd. Mingyu waves and Wonwoo grins up at him, a little mischievous. Mingyu would be scared, but they’re in public - so surely Wonwoo can’t be a menace here, right?

“You’re Mr. Worldwide, huh?” Wonwoo teases. Mingyu rolls his eyes.

“You suck,” he says, but smiles anyway. Wonwoo seems a lot more cheery when talking to fans after that.

(35)

Kim Mingyu loves Jeon Wonwoo a normal amount, thank you very much. 

(And by normal, he means with his entire being and then some.)

Loves him so much that it bleeds into all facets of his life, everything he does and everything he touches. So obvious to anyone who has looked at him even just twice, long enough to look into his soul.

He spikes the volleyball and he bleeds with it: it lands on the other side of the net, scoring a point. He thinks about Wonwoo in the stands and Mingyu thinks, “it’s all for you.”

Is Mingyu whipped? Yes. But it’s not like he doesn’t already know that.

Wonwoo is already streaming when Mingyu gets to his apartment, much to his disappointment. Ever since they started dating, Wonwoo usually waits a little bit after Mingyu arrives to start, so they can eat and hang out together. 

Ugh. Ugh. Mingyu hates eating alone.

He stays away from the streaming room, careful not to make too much noise, and starts on the hamburg steak he recently learned the recipe for, just because Wonwoo loves hamburgers so damn much. It’s only been a month since they’ve gotten back from the Olympics, and Mingyu spends as much time as he can at Wonwoo’s place, ordering them takeout or cooking for him.

Mingyu tries not to pout too much as he gets to cooking. By himself. This sucks.

He puts in his Airpods to listen to music while he squashes beef into a patty and cooks it, to IU’s new release. Wonwoo has gotten him hooked, recently, and it doesn’t help that she’s the only thing they listen to in the car.

It’s catchy, okay?

Wonwoo will probably be streaming for another few hours, so Mingyu eats by himself when the food is done. Seollie begs for scraps at his feet, and it takes all of his self control to not just give her the whole damn hamburger.

She’s so cute. And sometimes she acts so similarly to Wonwoo - clinging onto him and looking up at Mingyu with wide eyes. 

Mingyu gives her a tiny piece - it’s tiny, okay? So it’s fine! - and washes the dishes when he’s done eating. It’s getting late and he has practice early the next day, so he heads off to take a shower and get ready for bed. After he’s done, he changes into spare clothes and sprays his cologne around the bedroom. He’s been secretly doing it for months, just because Wonwoo is so happy every time his bed sheets smell like Mingyu.

Despite every bone in his body wanting to barge into the streaming room and take Wonwoo for himself, Mingyu lays down and stares up at the ceiling and tries his fucking hardest to fall asleep. It’s hard these days to fall asleep without Wonwoo in his arms, but he manages just fine normally.

But today, for some reason, it’s difficult. 

He doesn’t fall asleep for hours, much to his frustration. None of the normal stuff works, like reading emails, or leafing through one of Wonwoo’s boring-ass philosophy books, or playing with Seollie until they’re both worn out. Mingyu gives up eventually, laying in bed and staring out the window, looking out at the warm lights of the city.

Normally hearing Wonwoo’s voice through the wall between the bedroom and the streaming room would be enough to make him fall asleep, but it’s not tonight. Not when he’s experienced the real thing - Wonwoo in his arms, nuzzled into the crook of his neck. That is so, so much better than hearing Wonwoo’s muffled laugh as he wins yet another ARAM.

“No losses today, chat!” Wonwoo says in the next room over, loud enough for Mingyu to barely hear, and he wishes that Wonwoo was next to him instead. Ugh.

Fuck. Fuck. This fucking sucks.

It’s maybe 2 AM when Wonwoo finishes streaming, and Mingyu only realizes because he hears the shower running in the bathroom. He attempts to close his eyes, maybe feign sleep - he doesn’t know quite how he will feel when Wonwoo crawls up in bed and curls up next to him, lovely and warm.

Because he’s still upset, a little bit. Not at Wonwoo, exactly, but at himself. And he doesn’t want Wonwoo to know that.

He’s so pathetic like this.

The bedroom door clicks open, and Wonwoo’s voice comes out as surprised. “Min?” he calls, and the door slides shut. “You’re here?”

Mingyu doesn’t even open his eyes, just burrows into the pillow. Okay, maybe he’s pouting, but that’s no one’s business but his own.

“I texted you earlier about coming over,” he says. “And you said okay.”

“Shit, I completely forgot,” Wonwoo says, sounding apologetic. The bed dips under his weight as a body drops down next to Mingyu and strokes at the hair on the crown of his head. “I just started streaming without checking my phone again. I’m really sorry.”

Mingyu cracks an eye open and finds himself face to face with the love of his life. All the anger and bitterness seeps out of him when he makes eye contact with Wonwoo.

“It’s fine,” Mingyu says, even though you can hear the hurt in his voice. 

Wonwoo winces. “It’s not, I’m sorry. You should’ve come in, or called me, and I would’ve left.”

Mingyu fists clench, balled up in the pillow - his pillow, the one Wonwoo bought for him when they became official and he started sleeping over at his apartment all of the time. “Hyung, it’s okay,” he says. “I wasn’t gonna take you away from the fans, or anything.”

It’s true. Mingyu’s ugly feelings towards Wonwoo consume him - the possessiveness, the want, the need - and Mingyu tries to stamp them back down. Interrupting him while he’s working would be… too much. It wouldn’t be right. What if he was talking to other people? Would he leave them to be with Mingyu? Would he still choose Mingyu?

Mingyu voices none of this. He just closes his eyes again and sighs.

Wonwoo’s hand is gentle in his hair, and things are fine, anyway. He’s just being dramatic, like he always is.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says gently. “Look at me.”

Mingyu listens, because he always does. The softness of Wonwoo’s voice is also just so easy to fall into. Wonwoo is close, just inches away, and Mingyu wants to breathe him in.

The ugly feelings again. They’re rising.

“You were upset that I couldn’t spend time with you, right?” Wonwoo asks, and Mingyu really wishes that his hyung was less perceptive. “Me too. I’m upset at myself because I wanted to spend time with you too.”

“But it’s-” Mingyu says, then stops. Wonwoo would probably hit him if he said that it was fine again, so he cuts himself off and doesn’t say anything.

Wonwoo, despite his general sense to simply choose to not perceive other people’s feelings, has become scarily adept at reading Mingyu in the last few months. There are times where Mingyu doesn’t even have to speak to be understood - sometimes being direct like Wonwoo wants him to be is still a little hard, and he still has that leftover childhood habit of beating around the bush to avoid confrontation - and it’s sometimes… intimidating. To be so easily understood. On an innate level. 

Even Jungkook doesn’t analyze him all that deeply. 

But there’s also Wonwoo’s own insecurities underlying everything, and he has the tendency to second guess even his own thoughts, so Mingyu supposes it isn’t as easy as just being read. It’s also about understanding and all of that. There are times when Wonwoo’s inferiority complex keeps him from being able to read between the lines, in the nuances of their relationship - despite the “codependency” as it’s been infamously described, thank you very much, Minghao - so maybe… okay, maybe he could try a little harder. 

“I know that you have a thing about being selfish,” Wonwoo continues, and wow, he knows how to hit the nail right on the head as always. “But I want you to be selfish with me. I want you to take up my time and be clingy and tell me when you want me.”

Mingyu swallows thickly. Wonwoo sighs and takes off his glasses and puts them on his bedside table.

“If you aren’t, I don’t know what you want, and it makes me a little scared,” Wonwoo says. “And I want you as much as you want me, anyway. So...”

He trails off, as Wonwoo often does, but Mingyu gets the gist of what he’s saying. He’s being as honest as Jeon Wonwoo can possibly be. 

They’ve had this conversation before, once or twice - once when they were getting together, and again in passing remarks every now and then. Wonwoo and Mingyu are on diametrically opposed sides on the matter, in terms of who they are as people; Wonwoo with his inferiority complex and Mingyu with his trust issues. 

And, well. They have to agree, eventually, in order to make this whole thing work. Be on the same page. And they often are - usually are - but it’s oftentimes Mingyu who is too hesitant, too scared to trust, unable to understand if the depth of Wonwoo’s feelings matches his own.

The guilt slowly crawls up Mingyu’s throat and he avoids Wonwoo’s eyes. Because he should know by now, really. He should know that Wonwoo cares. “Sorry,” he says.

Wonwoo makes a little noise, a frustrated one. “Min,” he says. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not mad at you. I just want us to be able to understand each other.”

It’s not often that Wonwoo is the one to dangle the olive branch out of the two of them - he’s the most stubborn person Mingyu knows personally and five months of therapy can only do so much - but in times of need, he always does. He reaches out to Mingyu every time without fail.

Mingyu winces. He swallows down the part of his brain that lives in perpetual fear, that wants to ask are you mad at me? Do you love me? Did I fuck up again? because Wonwoo loves him. He does. And he’s showing it by giving Mingyu a hand to hold onto. 

“Okay. You’re right. Yeah.”

Wonwoo is looking at him, expression as gentle as it possibly could be. Mingyu studies his eyes and finds nothing hostile there. Little mercies.

“I mean, I just want you to understand that I want you to be selfish with me,” Wonwoo says. “It would mean a lot to me if you were honest about things like that.”

It stings a bit, but he’s right. You can always trust Wonwoo to find the vulnerability in his psychological armor and exploit it. His childhood has done a number on him far greater than Mingyu would like to admit to himself, let alone his boyfriend, but again. Wonwoo always just knows. 

He knows. And he loves him anyway. Mingyu rubs at his temple. 

“Hyung, you’re right. I’ll try,” Mingyu says each word carefully, a little tiredly, like he’s at the edge of a cliff and scared of toppling over. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to get tired of me if I tell the truth, you know?”

The excuse sounds pathetic even to his own ears, but it’s not like it’s something Wonwoo doesn’t know already.  

“The truth is that I want you all to myself, honestly. I want to be with you all the time. But I don’t want to stop you from talking to your fans, or doing your job,” Mingyu says. A little embarrassed, a little frustrated. “I’m not used to talking through this kind of stuff, but I promise that I want you. More than anything. All the time.”

Wonwoo softens. “Mingyu.”

“I just have a hard time,” Mingyu sighs. “With being selfish. Because of… you know. I’d just rather not be.”

It’s not a good explanation, nor an entire one, but Wonwoo knows. Knows enough. The tension between them softens and Wonwoo smiles and falls sideways into Mingyu’s arms.  Mingyu lets out an oof with the weight. 

“You’re silly,” Wonwoo mutters. “My silly puppy.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu expresses. His ears burn red, as they always do when Wonwoo says things like that.

“I’d rather you barge into my room and have me eat with you than stream for five hours, you know,” Wonwoo says. “I miss you too, all the time. All the time. I love you. And I like it when you’re all jealous, I think it’s cute.”

Mingyu groans and hides his face in Wonwoo’s hair.

“But your job,” Mingyu says. “It’s more important than me.”

“Work is never more important than you. Besides, my fans don’t care if I leave early,” Wonwoo disagrees. “They see me everyday, Min. And I don’t really care if they get upset, I care about you way more.”

Mingyu’s face goes bright red. Wonwoo has become so honest over these past couple months, and it always catches him off guard. The expression he makes when he’s earnest… it’s so open. So loving.  

Fuck. Mingyu’s body untenses slowly but surely, exhaling all the guilt that eats away at him. He is trying a bit more everyday to let go of it, but it’s still hard. 

“You’re right,” Mingyu mutters. 

“Aren’t I always?” Wonwoo teases.

Mingyu rolls his eyes, ignoring that comment. “I just get nervous about being clingy, or whatever,” he says. He pretends to not see the pointed look Wonwoo sends him. “But you have a point. I just need to be selfish, because that’s what you want.”

Wonwoo nods. “It is what I want. And you’re gonna be a good boy and give me what I want, right?”

That makes it easier. To frame the whole thing as selfishness being just another thing he needs to do in order to provide for Wonwoo - that’s what Mingyu likes best, after all. Providing. Being useful.

That’s something he should maybe unpack in therapy, but that’s not anyone’s business.

“Yeah,” Mingyu breathes. “For you, hyung, I’ll be good.”

Wonwoo smiles and reaches up to give him a kiss. “Good.”

Mingyu settles back into the sheets and Wonwoo curls up beside him, in his arms. It’s funny how they haven’t even been dating for very long, but Wonwoo always knows just what to say to make him all pliant and easy. Though, Mingyu could say that he does the same for Wonwoo - when he’s stressed, all Mingyu has to do is drag him into bed, feed him, and kiss him until he doesn't remember his own name.

They fit together in that way.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Mingyu offers, pulling Wonwoo in tight with his arms around his waist.

Wonwoo nuzzles into his collarbone. Sleepy already. “Yeah. You have to wake up early, right?”

“Mm,” Mingyu hums. “The usual time.”

Wonwoo smells like strawberry shampoo and Mingyu’s cologne, and something sweet and clean underlying all of that. They burrow into each other, breathing slowly, and Mingyu falls asleep just like that.

(22)

Mingyu is 27 years old, and now his apartment is packed to the brim with friends and acquaintances, celebrity and civilians alike.

After doing his rounds greeting everyone, it’s nice, actually. He sinks into the cushions of his couch as he nurses a beer and lets Minghao and Jungkook argue, quite literally, over him. 

“Minho is hotter than that piece of shit Kwangsoo,” Minghao insists, gesturing over to where guys from the national team are playing drinking games at Mingyu’s kitchen table. Kwangsoo, is of course, at the helm of it - he’s a menace at parties. Mingyu only invited him because he invited everyone else on the team.

Minho left at 9 PM sharp, saying verbatim: “I’m too old for this shit. It’s my bedtime.” Oddly enough, it made Mingyu respect him even more.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Kwangsoo has a fat ass, Hao. You can’t beat that.”

Mingyu frowns. “My ass is fatter.”

“Don’t even get me started on your ass,” Minghao rolls his eyes. “You have nothing on them.”

Jungkook nods gravely. “He’s right, Gyu. For example, Seungcheol hyung has the nation’s fattest ass.”

Mingyu sighs, sitting up. The conversation is stupid enough as it is, which is even worse because they’re both stone-cold sober. “You’re both lunatics.”

“Sounds like someone’s mad that his ass isn’t fat,” Jungkook whispers to Minghao conspiringly.

Minghao grimaces. “He doesn’t care enough about his glutes.”

Mingyu pays them no attention. This is his birthday, thank you very much, and they better leave him and his ass out of this entire conversation. He is slightly tipsy and wishes, not for the first time, that Wonwoo hyung was here instead of these two idiots. Wonwoo hyung is pretty and funny and doesn’t insult his ass. 

Even though Wonwoo’s been a little weird around him, recently. That doesn’t matter anymore. Mingyu wants to see him now.

Mingyu sits there and stares off at nothing in particular as Minghao and Jungkook continue to debate, or argue, or whatever they’re doing, about asses. He’s occasionally interrupted by someone saying hi or happy birthday! Mingyu smiles at everyone, though a little tired of it all already.

Which is kind of odd, because he usually makes a point to be the life of the party wherever he goes. He doesn’t know what it is, but something is making him feel more reserved today.

Maybe this is what happens when you get older?

Mingyu snaps back to attention when Minghao pokes him in the side and points off into the crowd. Mingyu follows his gaze and the first thing he sees is Jeon Wonwoo.

Speak of the devil.

“Hyung!” Mingyu leaps up off the couch, tiredness forgotten, ignoring the way Minghao says “so predictable” under his breath and Jungkook snickers. “There you are, I was waiting for you!”

Wonwoo is looking at him with that fond expression again, with something foreign in there too. He can’t place what it is, exactly, nor does he really care to. There’s no use in opening that can of worms at his birthday party, of all places. 

“Mingyu-yah. Happy birthday.”

Mingyu grins. Oh well. It’s probably nothing.

“Happy birthday, Gyuie!” Soonyoung yells, appearing in front of them with Seokmin in tow. Before Mingyu can say anything else, he shoves Wonwoo forward. Mingyu tilts his head in confusion. “Here’s your present, he got all dressed up.”

Oh. Oh. Mingyu goes red. 

Wonwoo looks enough like a present - he’s back in that crop top again, a piece of fabric which has both ruined Mingyu’s life and made his life worth living. Wonwoo holds his arms in front of his stomach - is he shy? - and glares at Soonyoung.

“Stop, like, soliciting me like I’m a prostitute.”

Soonyoung pouts. “It’s for Mingyu, not you.”

Mingyu’s face is bright red, and he’s largely unable to say anything. Wonwoo looks good - he always does, but now especially. His jeans hug his ass (not that Mingyu was looking!) and are artfully ripped around the thighs, showing sneak peeks of skin. Wonwoo has always been pretty, but now he’s something else entirely. Something ethereal.

When their gazes meet, Mingyu looks away. He puts a hand on the back of his own neck and nervously rubs the skin there. “Uh, thanks, Hyung. You… look. Um. Good.”

Wonwoo smiles. He’s so pretty. “Thanks.”

He’s pretty and he actually showed up to Mingyu’s birthday after days of radio silence - only ever active online, but not to Mingyu, always just right outside of his peripheral - and Mingyu wants to talk to him, suddenly. How are you? Why did you not want to touch me at the park? Have you missed me? But it all gets jumbled together in his head. He can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or the sudden need to be close, to check in.

The need is always there, whenever he’s around Wonwoo. But right now, it has grown into something much stronger, something less controllable.

His hands tremble with the need to touch him, and Mingyu is only to hold himself back because he’s more afraid of seeing Wonwoo flinch again than he is afraid of anything else. It doesn’t help that Wonwoo’s waist is small and it’s right there, and any other time, Wonwoo would’ve accepted the touch gladly.

But not anymore. Right?

“Is this the Wonwoo hyung that I keep hearing about?” Jungkook steps in, snapping Mingyu out of his reverie. He puts an arm around Mingyu’s shoulders and Mingyu wants to throttle him. “Hi, I’m Jungkook. This guy never shuts the fuck up about you.”

Mingyu sputters indignantly. There’s something about the love of his life and his best friend for life meeting that does him in - he feels shy all of a sudden, a little meek. Thankfully, Minghao joins them and flicks Jungkook on the head.

“I told you to not cause trouble.”

“I’m literally an angel,” Jungkook grins, despite being maybe the most evil force in Mingyu’s life. 

Wonwoo smiles, “Nice to meet you.” 

Mingyu is utterly horrified to find that he immediately bristles. He wants to keep that smile to himself, and the ugly part of Mingyu that is full of ugly feelings rears its ugly head. 

He’s jealous? Over Jeon Jungkook, the straightest guy he knows?

Uh-oh. 

Wonwoo is smiling, and Mingyu's ugly feelings only bubble up to the surface. It’s hard enough to keep them at bay as it is, but now it hurts tenfold. Wonwoo used to smile at Mingyu like he was the only person in the room, but now he’s sharing that smile with everyone else.

Mingyu doesn’t know what it is, exactly, but something deep in his gut clenches. It hurts.

“I lost the kids already,” Jun says as he comes up to them. 

Mingyu likes Jun, really, but there’s something about him that’s a little off - it feels like Jun is always watching him carefully. Mingyu shrinks into himself, a little confused, as Jun gives him a lengthy look-over. He looks Mingyu up and down like he’s done something wrong. He hooks arms with Wonwoo and Mingyu blinks, and the moment is over.

What the fuck was that?

His head is a mess. It’s the alcohol and it’s Wonwoo’s smile and it’s the fact that his apartment is full of people he doesn’t even like that much. Jun and Wonwoo are saying things to each other, but all Mingyu sees is the way Jun rests his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder. He’s jealous, but not angry. Mostly sad. Because the last time he touched Wonwoo like that, he flinched at the contact. What is he doing wrong?

Everything is loud, and it all melds together into one incoherent noise in his head. Mingyu blanks out of the conversation. Everything is blurring together. 

He hasn’t felt this bad in years, and he feels kind of like a stranger in his own body. He takes a sip of his beer and closes his eyes and hopes that somehow, he can sink into the floorboards and cease to exist entirely. That would be better than what’s happening right now.

(He wishes he could blame it on the alcohol, but it all stems from the way Wonwoo is looking at his friends with the fond smile that used to belong to Mingyu alone. He’s reminded of the way Wonwoo quite literally ran away from him back at the park, and his fist clenches into something unnameable.)

“Gyu?” Jungkook asks into his ear. “What’s wrong?”

Mingyu blinks. Everything roars back into focus all at once and the force of it all - the noise, the lights, all the senses - make him stumble a little. Something is happening to him - something bad.

“Nothing,” he says, even though Jungkook would know better. “Tired, I think.”

Voices are hard to distinguish from each other, and Mingyu stares at Wonwoo’s collarbones. Is this just anxiety? He doesn’t know. He hasn’t felt like this in… ever? Maybe back in college, when his mom stopped sending him money, it was like this. Back when the world was against him, and he had nothing to his name but a futon and a volleyball.

“Mingyu?” Minghao is the one asking this time, hand on his shoulder.

Mingyu wipes his eyes and smiles over at him. His smile feels fake, like he’s wearing it wrong on his own face. “Yeah?”

“You-” Minghao begins, and then cuts himself off. “Let’s talk. Later.”

And, well. That’s fine with him. 

Seokmin is motioning towards where the kitchen is, and seconds later, Soonyoung drags Jun and Wonwoo off unceremoniously. Wonwoo catches Mingyu’s eyes, once, before he’s gone, and smiles a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Mingyu smiles back at him, though feeling oddly defeated.

Something is going horribly wrong, and he doesn’t know quite what it is.

After that, Mingyu lets Seokmin wrangle him into doing another shot, because why the fuck not? It’s his birthday! Who cares if the pretty boy hates the way Mingyu touches him? He’s 27 now!

He ignores the pounding in his head, the way everything blurs together into one incoherent mess. 

Whatever. Whatever!

“What the fuck is up with you?” Jungkook asks into Mingyu’s ear again, three shots later. Mingyu is settled back into the couch, also again. He wants to become one with the couch. “You look like shit.”

Mingyu shrugs and takes a swig of beer. “Take a fat fucking guess.”

“Oh…” Jungkook says slowly, and Mingyu gets to watch him put two and two together in real time. “Oh. The thing with Wonwoo again.”

Again, he says. Like this isn’t the first time. Mingyu sinks deep into the couch and drowns his beer and pointedly does not look in the direction of the kitchen. His brain is fighting its stream of Wonwoo hyung looks cute, he hates me, something is horribly wrong with me right now. 

After that, the alcohol is taken away from him, at Jungkook and Minghao’s insistence. Mingyu sits heavy in Seokmin’s side and pets at his hair, distracted.

Stupid Jeon Wonwoo and his stupid smile. Mingyu wants to hug and kiss him and ask if he even cares, anymore, about Mingyu. If he also looks at their DMs and selfies and yearns for them to be even just an inch closer together. If there’s anything Mingyu can do to let Wonwoo touch him again, just one more time.

“Boys are stupid!” Mingyu tells Seokmin. “I hate being in love.”

Seokmin nods, knowingly. “They are.”

They’ve had this conversation countless times, on this very couch, just the two of them nursing soju and eating chips and talking shit about their teammates. 

“I think he hates me,” Mingyu adds, eventually, after he stops thinking about the way Wonwoo’s hair is getting longer, the way it curls behind his ears. 

“You think so?” Seokmin asks.

Mingyu frowns. “He won’t let me touch him.” And then: “He looks at me like I’ve done something wrong.”

Seokmin tenses next to Mingyu, and he only notices because they’re touching from their shoulders down to their thighs. The look on Seokmin’s face is familiar, but rare - the same kind he gets when they’re dissecting the other team, when there’s a problem they need to solve. 

It looks funny on him. Mingyu tells him so.

“You look so mad when you frown,” Mingyu pokes his cheek. “Smile.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Seokmin sighs and detaches himself and says, “Hold on. I’ll be right back.” 

Mingyu watches, a little bewildered, as Seokmin heads off through the crowd in the direction of the kitchen. Weird, but Seokmin is a weird guy. He settles back down and stretches across Jungkook and Minghao’s laps.

“Kwangsoo roped Seungcheol hyung into doing shots,” Jungkook says conversationally, pointing across the room.

Mingyu follows with his eyes, though largely disinterested. Sure enough, Seungcheol is downing shots at the kitchen table, while Jeonghan stands off to the side and takes a video. 

“Look at his ass,” Minghao whispers, entranced.

Mingyu groans. Not this shit, not again.  

He burrows his head into the meat of Jungkook’s thigh and closes his eyes. Everything is loud and even the extrovert in him is just fucking tired. 

To be perfectly honest, Mingyu doesn’t care about anything but Wonwoo anymore. He wants to see his pretty face and the way his lips quirk up when he takes on that snarky tone and Mingyu wants to be in the center of Wonwoo’s love and attention again. Just one more time.

He wants to press Wonwoo against the kitchen counter and say, “hyung, you look so good.” He wants to cradle Wonwoo’s face in his hands and inspect the way his eyes reflect the dim lights of the apartment, and just hold him close. Mingyu just wants to be close.

Wonwoo hyung feels so fucking far away. Mingyu hates it.

“I’m gonna text him,” Mingyu announces to no one in particular.

“Mhmm,” Minghao says, a little drunk. “Yeah, okay.”

“Fighting,” Jungkook says, distracted by his phone.

Mingyu opens up his text messages and scrolls to Wonwoo’s contact. He doesn’t have to scroll far - it’s the only one he has favorited, after all, besides the group chat with the other guys. Mingyu types something out, a little clunkily, and presses send before he can think about it too hard.

@min9yu_k: where are you

Mingyu stares at the message.

What is he doing? He doesn’t know, exactly. He wants Wonwoo close by, he wants them to be alone together. Is that too much to ask for? For them to go into Mingyu’s room and sit side by side and breathe the same air?

He misses their drives, more than anything else, because he could always feel Wonwoo’s presence next to him in the car. Sometimes their shoulders would brush and it would feel like a jolt of electricity up his spine. Wonwoo would smile as he sang along to the IU playlist - off key, but that was always on purpose just to annoy him - and they would both be so content with each other.

The car feels empty, when he commutes to the gym. There’s a Wonwoo-sized hole in his life. He’s used to Wonwoo always being close, always in his peripheral vision, and now he’s nowhere to be found.

It comes to him randomly, but that’s when Mingyu remembers the jersey sitting in the back of his closet, with Wonwoo’s name on it. The one he bought eight years ago, secretly, with his allowance. He used to trace the shape of Wonwoo’s name and wear it, thinking about how in some twisted way, it made him closer to GAM3RBO1.

Hmmm. Mingyu should show him that.

@gam3rbo1: balcony

Bingo, the love of his life has been located. Half-tipsy, Mingyu gets up rather ungracefully and ignores his friends asking where the fuck he’s off to. He reaches the balcony door in five strides, and wrenches the door open.

It takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark and see him, but sitting on the ground, crouched, is Jeon Wonwoo. He looks a little tired, a little on edge. He’s still beautiful despite it all.

Mingyu has to consciously remind himself to breathe. “Hyung. Are you okay?”

Wonwoo nods. “I just needed a break.”

The cool air sobers him up a little bit, and Mingyu’s head clears. The background noise fades away, and his eyes come into focus. Wonwoo sounds exhausted. Mingyu wants them to be closer together.

He edges closer to Wonwoo, a little cautious about the space between them. He doesn’t want to scare Wonwoo away, not again. Not ever again. He’s careful in the way he pulls up a chair to sit in.

“There’s a lot of people, sorry. Minghao says I have too many friends.” It’s a bad excuse even to his own ears. Mingyu is still tipsy. 

Wonwoo looks at the ground.

“That’s a good thing, you know.” His voice is something unfamiliar, in this moment. There’s a tone in there that Mingyu can’t quite place, and it makes him a little restless. Is there something that Wonwoo wants? Is there something Mingyu did wrong?

“Maybe,” Mingyu hums, trying to sound even-toned. He thinks about the jersey - it’s an excuse, at least, to get them alone. That’s all Mingyu wants - is for them to be alone together. There’s no one else on the balcony, but there could be, and that’s enough to spur him into action.  “I wanted to show you something while you were here. Wanna come with me?”

Wonwoo blinks up at him. Mingyu attempts a smile, trying not to betray how his heart pounds with uncertainty.

“Sure,” Wonwoo says, and stands up. “Lead the way.”

Mingyu opens the balcony door and weaves them through the party. He doesn’t touch Wonwoo, not even once, but constantly looks back to make sure Wonwoo is still following him. He is. If any of his friends see the two of them together, no one says anything. Even though it’s his party, most people leave him alone.

Mingyu reaches his bedroom door and ushers them both in with little ceremony. It’s quiet and dark in here. He turns on a light. Mingyu exhales, once, and tries to smile.

“Sit down,” he motions at the bed.

Wonwoo nods. “Okay.”

His head feels oddly clear as he approaches his closet. “Do you remember my interview?” Mingyu asks him as he digs through it. It’s in here somewhere.

It feels silly to mention the interview now, given that it made him look like such an idiot, but it’s worth talking about. In regards to the jersey, at least.

Wonwoo’s voice is quiet. “Yeah.”

“Remember when I said that I had your merch?” Mingyu asks. Voice a little uncertain, so he tries to keep it in a flat tone.

Wonwoo hums. “Well, you also have the new merch.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Mingyu huffs. 

He digs through a drawer. He’s pretty sure it was in here, the last time he checked. “I have… oh, here it is. Wait, close your eyes.”

It’s a weird request, but Mingyu says it before he can stop himself. When he turns around, Wonwoo listens and closes his eyes.

Mingyu's heart beats in his chest, hard, as he approaches Wonwoo. He looks beautiful like this, chin pointed up and head tipped back. Mingyu wants to touch him so, so badly. Even though he can’t.

Mingyu puts the jersey in Wonwoo’s lap, trying to not think about how this is the closest they’ve been in weeks.

“Now open.”

The jersey is old and worn - it was one of Mingyu’s practice shirts in his early college days, before he bulked up. Mingyu can’t tell from Wonwoo’s expression if he’s awed or thrilled or weirded out or disgusted. Wonwoo traces the letters of his name as he looks up at Mingyu.

“You have… my jersey.”

The sentence holds so much weight, for some reason. Wonwoo says it with reverence and Mingyu wishes, not for the first time, that they could at least hold hands. But Mingyu keeps a respectable distance and looks down at Wonwoo and nods. 

“Yeah.”

The jersey is 8 years old. It was the first and only piece of fan merch Mingyu had ever purchased up until a few months ago. It’s from 2016, back when Wonwoo was new to the team and played support like nobody’s business. Mingyu was so fond of him, back then.

He still is, even now. Obviously.

“Isn’t it kind of funny?” Mingyu asks, sitting down next to him. Still keeping a few feet of space between them. “Look at us now.”

He doesn’t know what he means by that, not really. Because Wonwoo’s face looks a little lost, a little confused, and the distance between them is growing by the day. A few weeks ago, they used to touch wrists and shoulders and thighs and laugh in each other’s faces. The space between them feels like a chasm, and Mingyu doesn’t even know what they are anymore. 

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says suddenly, voice watery. “What is it that you want from me?”

Mingyu stops smiling. It drops from his face involuntarily. The question feels like a slap to the face, in a way, because Wonwoo is the one who put space between them first. 

Something overtakes him and Mingyu freezes. There’s something a little accusatory in the way Wonwoo says it, in the way his voice shakes. It’s unfamiliar and there is something very wrong. Something very wrong is happening. 

Before he’s even fully processed the sentence, Mingyu says: “What?”

“We’re friends, right?” Wonwoo asks, blinking back tears, wiping at his face. Mingyu wants to hold him close and wipe them away, but he’s held back by some invisible force that restrains him down to his bones. “I mean, that’s all we are. Or do you want something else from me?”

Mingyu is… confused. He doesn’t know what this means. He doesn’t know what Wonwoo’s talking about, exactly. Wonwoo suddenly stands up, placing the jersey back down on the bed, and puts himself between Mingyu and the door.

The distance between them stretches and stretches and Mingyu feels something in his sternum ache.

“Hyung…” Mingyu says very slowly. “What are you talking about?”

There’s nothing, for a moment, and then Wonwoo is looking at him with an unreadable expression. “You have been my fan for 8 years.”

What? What is he saying? Distantly, something in Mingyu’s brain is starting to panic. 

“Well. I guess.”

Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “And yet my feelings, they’re…” His voice trails off. “I don’t know, but it’s just too much now. I can’t do this anymore.”

Mingyu doesn’t know what he’s talking about, not really, but something bad is happening right now. He sees it in the tenseness of Wonwoo’s shoulders, in his hard expression, and Mingyu stands up. A little territorial over his feelings, maybe, but something is going horribly wrong between them.

Wonwoo is trying to run, something instinctual in him says, and Mingyu wants to stop him. He doesn’t come closer, but his shoulders rise with anxiety.

“What do you mean?” Mingyu’s voice is hard around the edges, but breaks a little at the end. He is fucking terrified of where this is going.

“I can't do this anymore,” Wonwoo repeats. “You’re a fan.”

A fan. A fan. Something about it sounds so detached, so unlike Wonwoo. It sounds like he’s accusing Mingyu of something, like there’s something to be upset about. It feels like a sting, even though it’s the truth.

“What?” Mingyu asks anyway. Even though he’s terrified of the answer.

Wonwoo stares at him. “You… you’re my fan.”

It hits him, right then - oh. Okay. 

The anxiety in Mingyu’s body fizzles up into something larger than he is capable of encompassing, and then the fight leaves him all at once. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Mingyu feels something in himself break. His face smooths over into something hard and expressionless. 

So this is where this is going. So this is what Mingyu was afraid of all this time. 

But it makes sense, doesn’t it? The way Wonwoo is looking at him like he never mattered in the first place?

“A fan,” Mingyu says. “That’s all I am to you.”

It’s not a question. Wonwoo looks away from Mingyu, then, and something in Mingyu’s heart that has grown so fond and in love over the past couple months twists into something that just hurts. It hurts so bad.

“You think that I want to be close to you,” Mingyu says slowly. “Because I’m a fan.”

Wonwoo says nothing. 

The truth is that Wonwoo doesn’t even have to say anything, at least not really. He’s clear in the way that there’s meters of space between them, and Wonwoo’s posture says that he’s ready to bolt.

“I…” Wonwoo starts, and then stops. “Yeah.”

Mingyu feels like his world is crumbling down, piece by piece, as he studies the look on Wonwoo’s face. It’s so foreign to him, the sharpness of his gaze - the unfamiliarity of it. It’s something Mingyu has never seen before, and it scares the shit out of him. Just forty minutes ago, Wonwoo had such a fond expression on his face.

What happened? What happened to them?

Wonwoo’s not looking at him, not exactly. He’s staring somewhere over his shoulder. He’s still so pretty and handsome and beautiful and everything Mingyu has ever really wanted, even more than that gold medal and his parent’s approval.

All of that melted away when they were together, which is what makes this so cruel.

I’m alone now, Mingyu realizes. I’m alone again.

He doesn’t know why, exactly, but it’s that very thought that makes Mingyu laugh. He can’t control it, not completely, at least. He laughs and he feels cruel and bitter and awful as Wonwoo’s expression looks scared, and the selfish part of Mingyu is grateful.

His fear, at least, belongs to me.

The ugly part of his feelings are nearly tangible right now, so much so that he can feel the weight of them in his hands. Mingyu can’t do anything besides laugh, unable to convince Wonwoo to stay, or love him, or touch him one last time.

That would be selfish for him to do, and Mingyu has sworn off ever being selfish again after he chose volleyball over his family.

“I’m an idiot,” Mingyu says, hand running down his face. His face is wet with tears - he’s crying. He feels like a child, like he wants his mother to come and comfort him. He cries harder when he remembers that his mother doesn’t love him anymore, if she ever did to begin with.

Fuck. He can’t. He can’t. Wonwoo is so far away and it all fucking hurts. There’s no one to love him and it hurts so bad.

Wonwoo stares at him. “You… you aren’t.”

Mingyu laughs again. He’s breaking into a million little pieces and Wonwoo still cares, for some silly reason. “Hyung, please don’t,” Mingyu smiles. “If you’re kind to me, I’ll just misunderstand again.”

Everything is breaking and Mingyu feels 23 years old again, telling his parents that he doesn’t need them, and he never will. Wonwoo is staring at him, expression horrified.

“Mingyu-” Wonwoo starts.

Mingyu is crying. “I’m just your fan, right? And you’re just my streamer?” His voice cracks, something delicate and fragile and breaking. “That’s it. So don’t worry about me.”

That’s it, isn’t it? It’s all over? There’s nothing left between them, Wonwoo made sure of that. Nor was there ever anything between them, and Wonwoo made sure of that too. 

So it’s all over, and all Mingyu is left with is his love for Wonwoo in his hands, spilling over his fingers and onto the carpet. It was always something bigger than just the two of them, bigger than the space in between them, and now Mingyu’s left with it. All alone.

“I just-” Wonwoo says, then stops. “I don’t-” 

Mingyu smiles. He’s exhausted, now. Forget about the party. Forget about the boy he loves. His heart is aching and there’s a chasm of space between them and Wonwoo is pretty even in the low light of Mingyu stupid bedroom.

“Wonwoo hyung,” Mingyu gently calls. “That’s it.”

He just… feels sad. He’s waiting for Wonwoo to run away again, to leave him alone again. To let him handle the hurt and grief alone, because that’s what he did - he put it all on Mingyu. Not that that’s entirely his fault - Mingyu was, after all, the one who had to go ahead and fall in love with him.

“I swear that I tried,” is what Wonwoo says, and that only hurts him more.

Mingyu looks at him. Here is the boy he loves, hand nearly on the doorknob, ready to flee. Wonwoo doesn’t have to make excuses, not anymore. He stares at Wonwoo for a very long moment, and then smiles. 

“I know.”

And, well. That’s all.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says. His voice breaks halfway through his name. It filters through Mingyu’s brain and it sounds garbled. Everything is becoming too much, all jumbled up again. “I’m gonna go.”

So he goes. Mingyu watches Wonwoo turn around and open the door and leave. He watches Wonwoo run away from him, again, away from Mingyu and his big, ugly, terrible feelings. Everything melts together again - all the sounds, all the lights, all the pain. Mingyu sinks down onto his knees and puts his face in his hands and very loudly cries.

That’s how Jungkook and Minghao and Seokmin find him sometime later, when almost everyone else is gone. No one even noticed he wasn’t there.

“Gyu,” Minghao says, voice a little horrified. “What happened to you?”

Mingyu doesn’t know how long he cries for. He doesn’t know if he even explains what happened, if he’s even able to. All he knows is that they tuck him into bed and make him drink water and take turns cooing at him, soothing hands on his back.

Mingyu is alone, alone, all alone, in the dark of his bedroom. Their love feels more like a burden than it ever felt like a promise, and he wonders distantly if that’s what scared Wonwoo away. If Wonwoo could see just how much Mingyu loved him - the amount of which is terrifying even to himself.

He cries and cries. They sit there the whole time. Even Jeonghan and Seungcheol come in at one point, and soothe him with pretty words and their hands brushing through his hair, because they’re the closest thing he’s got to parents ever since his real parents let him walk out of their lives without even so much as a we love you, Mingyu-ah.

“I love him,” Mingyu sobs, nearly passing out from the force of his own tears. “Fuck. I love him.”

“Shh,” Jeonghan says into the nape of his neck, while Jungkook wipes his tears away. Despite the fact that they just keep coming. “I know.”

“He didn’t love me,” Mingyu sobs again.

Jeonghan just sighs and holds him a little closer, and says nothing in response.

Chapter Text

(2)

Mingyu is on his knees, palms shaking, as he stares at his report card in his father’s large hands. He knows what those hands are capable of. It’s the reason why he worked so hard to get to the top of his class this semester, full marks. 

“Number one again,” his dad mutters. 

Mingyu looks down at his lap.

There’s nothing to be afraid of, not when he knows he did everything right this time in order to be the Perfect Son. His parents would never say that they were proud of him, not in a million years, but at least his grades didn’t drop. They didn’t rise as much as he hoped, which is why his body is tense and scared of the backlash. Of the belt or the sandal or anything nearby, really. 

Mingyu had distracted Minseo with some snacks he picked up after school in case things got ugly. The last thing he needs today is his sister screaming-crying as he gets punished. But hopefully today won’t be as bad as normal. 

He has been obedient. He has been good. He has been the best he knows how to be, even with sneaking in volleyball practices between cram school lessons. He has been diligent and attentive and polite to his teachers and a perfect nephew for his aunties and their stern faces. 

So Mingyu sits on his knees, hands in his lap, not daring to look up at his father. Not wanting to see the frown that’s always there. Not wanting to be hurt.

Conditional love is the only kind Mingyu knows. Love that depends on his grades, on his ability to charm girls, on his achievements, on the family’s prosperity. 

“This is acceptable,” his dad says. “I knew you would do it, Mingyu.” 

It’s the closest to a good job he’ll ever get. “Thank you, Abeoji,” Mingyu says. 

That’s all he is allowed to say. 

No belt today. Nothing at all besides his father shooing him away, turning his attention back to his phone. Mingyu gets up, bows with full politeness and gratitude, and leaves the room. 

Little mercies. 

He’s tired. Between class and volleyball and cram school. He’s not even in high school yet, but naturally his parents are working him to the bone so he gets into an Ivy. He’s half tempted to apply for military service right out of high school just so he can get away from them for a while, but he knows that that will only make them more mad, so he won’t.

Jungkook texts him. How’d it go?

Mingyu sits down on his bed, still shaking a little. Adrenaline rush, fear.

Fine. Didn’t get hit, at least.

Jungkook sends a sad-looking Kakao sticker of a bear crying. Mingyu manages a smile.

He hopes to outlive this, one day, this terror and misery. To not be under the thumb of his parents. He hopes to be even bigger than their dreams, bigger than these four walls, bigger than the welts on his back from the belt and the way he hides his shirtless body when he gets changed in the locker room. 

Maybe one day this will all just feel like a distant dream. He sure hopes so.

Mingyu stares up at his ceiling for a long, long time. Fantasizing about the life he will one day get to live. One day. 

(20)

Mingyu is careful with his feelings. He’s careful at hiding them. Jeon Wonwoo does not make this an easy task.

They’re at an arcade. Wonwoo has dusted him in every game they’ve played thus far, from the crane games to first person shooters. He’s handsome in the bright neon lights of the machines, and Mingyu wants to kiss him. So, so bad.

“What do you wanna try next?” Wonwoo asks, and he’s smiling. He reaches out into the space between them and circles Mingyu’s wrist with his long, pretty fingers. 

Mingyu’s brain is stuck between he touched me first! and Jeon Wonwoo is pretty all over - it’s not fair.

“Um,” is what Mingyu replies. “Whatever you want, hyung.”

His face is red - thankfully the face mask hides that. They’re not even on a date, at least not really, but they’d both rather hide their identities. Wonwoo hates it when people come up to him to take photos (“it makes me feel self conscious,” he explained once, “and I feel like I’m always looking over my shoulder.”), and Mingyu wants to make this whole thing easier on him. So they wear masks and hats and avoid looking at cashiers and other people in the eyes. Just in case.

Wonwoo's eyes crinkle when he looks at Mingyu like this, and Mingyu watches with no small amount of reverence. As it is, it takes everything to not get on his knees and say you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, please let me kiss you even just once.

Yes, he’s pathetic. He knows.

“How about a rhythm game?” Wonwoo asks, motioning over at the DDR machines. 

“Oh,” Mingyu says. Okay, at least he isn’t terrible at dancing. “Sure.”

Wonwoo leads them over to the machine, and lets go of Mingyu’s hand to put the tokens in. He mourns the loss, but it’s ultimately a good thing - his palms are clammy and his hands trembling from the proximity alone. 

It’s a bad habit, but thankfully Wonwoo hasn’t caught on to the nervousness in Mingyu’s body when they stand too close together. At least, he hopes he hasn’t.

“I’m not very good at these,” Wonwoo says sheepishly, and Mingyu doesn’t believe him for even a second. He’s said that about literally every game they’ve played thus far, and he got the new high scores on several of them.

“Uh-huh,” Mingyu says, eyes narrowed. 

“I’m not!” Wonwoo laughs, but he’s already on the dance pad and selecting his song. It’s an upbeat old school Kpop song - Mingyu has noticed his proclivity for IU and early 2000s Lee Hyorin over the past month - and it’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t make him even more fond of Wonwoo. His tastes are a little unexpected at times. He shatters every expectation Mingyu had of him when he was merely a lowly fan.

(Because they’re more than that now, right? They’re more like friends?)

“No videos or pictures,” Wonwoo reminds him. “I’m gonna look stupid.”

Mingyu’s heart clenches. “That’s just not true.”

Wonwoo smiles and starts the song. “You’ll see.”

As expected, Wonwoo is good - maybe not at dancing, per say, but he doesn’t miss a single beat. He’s clinical in the way he moves, stiff but exact. Mingyu accepts defeat before his score even pops up on the screen.

“I can’t compete with you,” Mingyu sighs, leaning into Wonwoo’s side. “Don’t make me embarrass myself.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo insists. “I bet you’re just as good.”

Wonwoo’s score pops up as an AAA. Mingyu sends him a pointed look. Wonwoo laughs and pats him on the head.

“Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all.

“You’re such a show-off,” Mingyu accuses, but he’s smiling anyway.

Wonwoo steps off of the machine and pulls Mingyu up onto it. Wonwoo is looking up at him with those soft, kind eyes, and Mingyu is a weak, weak man.

“No,” he says. 

“Please?” Wonwoo asks. He doesn’t have an equivalent of puppy dog eyes, but something about his earnest expression always does Mingyu in anyway.

“Hyung,” Mingyu complains. “You just got a triple A.”

“So can you!” Wonwoo grins, and Mingyu wants to fucking kiss him. Ugh. 

Fine!

“Fine,” Mingyu grumbles, selecting his song. Wonwoo stands behind him, recording a video on his phone - blackmail material, he says, but Mingyu makes himself into an idiot 90% of the time he’s around Wonwoo, so he doesn’t see the point in it, really. 

“Good luck,” Wonwoo says in a low voice, and Mingyu’s heart stutters.

Fuck. This.

To be clear, Mingyu isn’t a terrible dancer. He’s fine at it - Seokmin and him used to do light ballet mixed with yoga back when they were new to the team, because it helped their muscles stay relaxed. None of those skills are transferable now, as Mingyu attempts to step to the beat.

It really doesn’t help that he’s flustered by Wonwoo’s eyes on him. He can feel them on the back of his neck.

He misses half of the notes, which isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that Wonwoo cheers for him the whole time, with “fighting” and “go, Min.” Mingyu keeps his head down and prays that they’re not attracting stares as he finally finishes the damn song. 

He gets a D+.

Go figure.

“Nice try,” Wonwoo pats him on the back, which isn’t helpful in the slightest. Mingyu’s face burns, mostly in shame, as he curls up into Wonwoo’s side and groans.

“Don’t even,” Mingyu says. “Let’s not talk about it.”

“The video is going nowhere,” Wonwoo promises, nudging him in the side. “But it wasn’t that bad. I’ve seen worse.”

Mingyu sighs. “I’m never showing my face here again.”

Wonwoo is kind enough to not point out that his face has been covered by a mask this whole time. “Maybe we should just get some food, hm?” he offers, changing the subject, well aware that the way to Mingyu’s heart is through his stomach. “My treat.”

Mingyu looks at him, a little reverent. This is why he’s in love with Jeon Wonwoo - he’s perfect. Mingyu slings an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, steering him in the direction of the food court. “Let’s get out of here right now.”

Wonwoo laughs. “Okay, okay.”

At the food court, Wonwoo buys them corn dogs to share, which Mingyu partakes in gladly. Their knees touch as they huddle over the table. The prizes Wonwoo won sit in a spare chair, in a haphazard pile of stuffed animals and keychains. 

“This is what I get for messing with a professional gamer,” Mingyu complains. “You made me look so lame today.”

Wonwoo grins and locks their ankles together. “You show off all the time. Let me have a little fun, too.”

Mingyu frowns. “I don’t show off.”

“I go to your practices like every week,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his Cola. “All the attention is on you, you know. You’re impossible to look away from.”

Mingyu freezes.

It’s one thing to hear from the coach, or his teammates, or a fan, but it’s another thing entirely to hear such a compliment from Wonwoo. Wonwoo, who looks at him fondly, who holds doors open for him, who has a designated playlist for Mingyu’s car, who is sarcastic and moody but always smiles in Mingyu’s presence.

His heartbeat stutters in his chest. Is that true? Is that what Wonwoo thinks, or is he just saying that?

(Mingyu wants to ask: what about when I’m not playing? Do you still look at me like the way I look at you? Do you still want to give me all of your attention, and no one else?)

He doesn’t say that. Mingyu just goes red and looks down at his food.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he claims. When Wonwoo compliments him, he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. It’s embarrassing. 

“Yes you do,” Wonwoo teases him. “You know that you’re the best.”

Mingyu puts his head in his hands and groans. Wonwoo laughs and doesn’t unhook their ankles until their meal is over.

They walk around the street for a while, stuffed animals and prizes in hand. They’re walking close together, hands brushing and shoulders touching. It feels suspiciously like a date, even though Mingyu knows that it isn’t. Wonwoo doesn’t like him! And he’s probably straight!

(All of his friends are gay, though? The devil on Mingyu’s right shoulder reminds him, and Mingyu tries not to think about it. At least, not anymore than he can help it.)

They’re not quite silent, but not talkative either. The quiet is comforting when he’s around Wonwoo - it feels awkward with anyone else. Despite all of their bickering and playful arguments, this is when it feels the best to be in Wonwoo’s presence: when it’s just the two of them together, basking in the quiet between them.

It’s dark and the streets are largely empty, so Mingyu takes off his mask. He stuffs it in his pocket and breathes out a deep sigh.

“Annoying, right?” Wonwoo nudges him.

Mingyu nods. “Well, yeah. But you know how it is.”

It’s true. They both do. But Mingyu is happy to shoulder the burden of hanging out in secrecy if it means he gets to be in Wonwoo’s orbit. 

“Thanks for today, Mingyu-ah,” Wonwoo says eventually. He looks up at Mingyu and smiles. “You always make it seem like I’m way cooler than I actually am, and I appreciate it.”

Mingyu frowns. “You’re the coolest person I know, though?” He asks. “Did you think I was joking about that?”

Wonwoo just huffs out a laugh and leans in closer, shoulders pressed together.

“Alright, no need to push it. It’s so obvious when you lie.”

Mingyu doesn’t say anything in response, face red. He wasn’t lying, though. Not in the slightest.

(23)

April has been bad so far. Mingyu is newly 27 and it’s been two weeks since he’s last talked to Wonwoo (the party doesn’t even feel like it really happened, but it must’ve, because his phone has no new notifications from his favorite person). He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing with himself anymore.

(“You look like shit,” Bumzu said. “Who broke your heart?”

Mingyu never responded. Just kept his head down and kept going with his workout.)

Wonwoo’s socials have been dead - yes, Mingyu has been checking, even though it makes him feel pathetic to do so. He follows the fandom activity closely, just in case he’s missed something, but it seems like no one else knows what’s going on with GAM3RBO1 or where he is, either. Mingyu could ask someone, reaching out to the other guys in the group, but that’s not really his place anymore. To care, that is.

Wonwoo made that clear, right? That he was nothing more than a fan? 

It doesn’t stop him from being worried sick. 

Mingyu throws himself into training. The Olympics are coming up, and that’s what matters, anyway. His life’s dream is right ahead of him, looming in the distance, so at least he has something.  

Not that training is going well, because it isn’t. The guys stopped inviting him out for drinks a week ago, when Mingyu stormed out of practice after a fight with Kwangsoo, and now they’re giving him a wide berth of avoidance - after all, Mingyu is the friendly guy. He never fights with anyone, not even the annoying ones.

It’s obvious that something happened. No one asks what it was.

The issue is that they’re all too nosy, thinking that they know him so well. They know nothing. They don’t know that he’s bisexual, or that he’s in love with a guy who doesn’t even see him as a friend, or that he finally got his heart broken after 8 years of yearning for the mere possibility to see his streamer in the flesh, even once.

“Get your shit together,” Kwangsoo had said. “Where the fuck is your head at?”

Seungcheol had to hold Mingyu back from exploding. He’s never exploded on a teammate before, but he was close. Close to anger, close to tears. 

“Fuck you,” is all Mingyu had said. Spite and hurt evident in his voice, the most vulnerable he has ever been. “You don’t know anything about me.”

It’s true. His teammates don’t know shit. It’s all so easy for them, with their simple heterosexual lives, no burdens on their shoulders. No pressure to be perfect, to be the best. Guilt eats at him faster than it did even when he was in college, when he couldn’t even look his parents in the eyes. He blows off Jungkook’s texts and ignores everyone’s worry because it’s his fault anyway.

Mingyu was the one who misunderstood their relationship in the first place - he has no right to be upset.

Seokmin bothers him all the time: partially because he’s way too caring and partially because they live together. He makes Mingyu sit down for meals, watches how hard he pushes himself at the gym. He makes Mingyu watch reality TV shows with him as they sit on the couch.

Seokmin smooths out the hair on the back of Mingyu’s head and keeps him wrapped up in a hug, and Mingyu feels like a piece of shit for not even feeling the slightest bit better afterwards.

(Nothing makes him feel better anymore, at least not really. Not since Wonwoo left him in the dark of his bedroom, tears staining both their cheeks. Mingyu wonders if Wonwoo regrets it all too, even the good parts. Because the good parts hurt to think about, even now.)

His life is a numb repeat of practice-eat-sleep. Wake up, go to the gym, ignore his phone, work out, eat, go to practice, go home, eat, try to sleep and fail. Melatonin is a new friend, not that it really does much. He can’t take anything stronger with the Olympics coming up, so he takes what he can get. No matter how little it is. 

He has Twitter deleted, barely uses Instagram. His phone is like a black hole in his pocket, begging him to check his messages despite knowing that nothing will be there. Encouraging him to reread the old texts, to try and figure out where he went wrong earlier down the line. He wants to break the damn thing. Wants to break himself. Wants to break everything. 

Two weeks past like this. 15 days after the party, Mingyu gets a Twitch notification. He knows what it is before he even sees it, because he only follows one person on Twitch.

Wonwoo is live. Like a man possessed, Mingyu clicks on it.

It’s a bad idea, he knows, but he needs to see Wonwoo’s face. He needs to know if he’s okay. He needs to know if the distance hurts him, too, or if this is all just one-sided. Because Wonwoo’s disappearance aligns with their argument, but Mingyu still isn’t convinced that his presence in Wonwoo’s life was never enough to mean anything. After all, why else would Wonwoo have left so easily, so quickly, like Mingyu never mattered at all?

The stream takes a second to load, but then his screen is full of Wonwoo at his set-up, his crestfallen face, and oh.

Wonwoo looks like shit. 

Of course he’s still gorgeous, he’s always been fucking gorgeous. But his eyes are hollow and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. When he rests a hand under his chin, his wrist looks so bony and skinny. It’s the first two weeks Mingyu has gone without feeding him since they met, he realizes belatedly.

(Is this… is this what Wonwoo looks like without him?)

“Hey,” Wonwoo says, voice low and scratchy. Mingyu wishes he didn’t, but he knows this tone - the voice Wonwoo uses when he’s upset and tired. Chat is filled with messages and love and Mingyu doesn’t dare take his eyes off of Wonwoo’s face.

Wonwoo changes his facecam to full screen. Mingyu wants to cry.

He looks exhausted. He needs to be tucked into bed and given a hot meal. Mingyu knows he shouldn’t care, but he does. He knows he should be angry, but he isn’t. He wants to wrap his hyung into a tight hug and smooth a hand over his hair and ask, “have you eaten? You need to eat,” and make him his favorite ramyeon.

Tears are welling up in Mingyu’s eyes before he realizes it. Wonwoo has never felt so far away before.

“Sorry I’ve been gone, I’ve been dealing with some personal stuff,” Wonwoo says, and tries to smile. He looks like he’s in pain. Mingyu cradles his phone to his chest and curls up into a ball on his bed.

He can’t look at Wonwoo anymore. He closes his eyes.

“I needed a break, sorry it was so sudden,” Wonwoo says. Mingyu wonders if Wonwoo’s thinking about him, if he’s thinking about how Mingyu could be watching. “But I’m back. I’m gonna keep it brief for today, but I’m going back to my normal schedule.”

Wonwoo queues in League. It almost feels like how it did back then, when Mingyu was just a viewer. Back before he knew the scent of Wonwoo’s cologne, or the layout of his kitchen, or the way he likes his eggs cooked. 

Except now Mingyu knows the pain in Wonwoo’s voice, and he sees the way Wonwoo stared back at him, in this very bedroom, those two weeks ago, every time he closes his eyes. The way he teared up and looked at Mingyu like he was terrified.

And that’s the funny thing, right? They can never go back to how things were, not ever again.

Mingyu’s soul hurts. He’s brimming with heartache. Seokmin knocks on his door and comes in and asks if he wants ice cream, and Mingyu doesn’t even bother to hide the fact that he’s listening to Wonwoo’s voice. 

“Oh, Gyu,” is all Seokmin said when he realized. He put their foreheads together and sighed.

Mingyu sniffled. The tears never stopped coming.

It’s a unique form of torture that he’s forcing upon himself, but Mingyu feels like he’ll die if he stops listening to Wonwoo’s voice. What the fuck would he do with himself if Wonwoo disappeared again, if Mingyu had no idea where he was or how he was doing? What the fuck would he do, stuck with only memories of Wonwoo’s hand around his wrist and pressed in Mingyu’s side, in the passenger seat of his car, saying “we’re listening to IU, Min, let’s be cultured here.”

Because the thing is that all Mingyu has left in his life, now, is volleyball. No more love, no more excitement to see his hyung and wrap an arm around his shoulders and cook the two of them dinner. There’s none of that anymore, so all he has left is the game and the selfish life he has carved out for himself.

He’s back to square one - square zero. Because at least when he was in college, newly cut off from his family and everyone he ever loved, he still had GAM3RBO1’s streams.

(Mingyu doesn’t even have that anymore, the streams. Because he’s sat at that setup and stared into Wonwoo’s face cam and put his head on his shoulder, and he will never be free of those memories for as long as he lives.)

Mingyu has nothing left in him except for hurt and what remains of his love for Wonwoo and the need to be perfect. Maybe the issue is that Mingyu wasn’t good enough. Maybe if he listened to his parents, someone as good as Wonwoo would’ve liked him back. 

None of that matters anymore, though, really. Because it’s happened and it’s done and Mingyu is just left with his hands and the court and the volleyball, palms red and sore, wondering if his swing just isn’t hard enough. 

Nothing matters anymore except for volleyball and winning.

(Though, does winning even matter? He was going to win gold for Wonwoo. For Wonwoo. Not even for himself.)

“I swear that I tried,” is what Wonwoo said to him at the party, face unreadable if not for the tears on his cheeks. It’s the image Mingyu keeps circling back to in his head.

(The cruel thing is that Mingyu had wanted to kiss him, even then. He had wanted to beg for Wonwoo to stay. But he couldn’t keep being so selfish.)

Wonwoo wins his ARAMs and hardly says anything at all. He responds to his donos and a few chats, and laughs just once. Mingyu listens with bated breath, unwilling to miss even a second. When Wonwoo ends the stream, he can’t help the sob that rises in his chest.

Fuck. He loves him. That’ll never change, will it?

The distance between them is a 30 minute drive and now Mingyu is just another person in his sea of 8 million fans, again, and it’s over now. It’s all over.

Mingyu doesn’t watch another stream after that. He deletes Twitch off his phone, but doesn’t stop his monthly 5 dollar payment to be a GAM3RBO1 subscriber. Pathetic, he knows.

It doesn’t matter. It never stopped him before.

(50)

“Bonjourno?” Wonwoo says, a little disoriented, as they leave the airport.

Mingyu grins. “Babe, I think you meant buonanotte.”

The glare Wonwoo gives him is ice-cold, half because he’s still groggy from his nap on the plane, half because he hates it when Mingyu one-ups him.

It’s weird to think that they’re now in Italy for… for as long as they want. The contract between him and Ali Roma got finalized weeks ago, and now they’re here with most of their belongings (and Seollie, in a crate under Wonwoo’s arm) in four suitcases.

This is their life now! Mingyu pokes at Wonwoo’s cheek.

“Sorry, I’ll know my place from now on,” Mingyu says, in an effort to make Wonwoo smile. “You’re better at Italian than I could ever hope to be.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Okay, shut up.”

(They’ve been studying Italian on and off for the past couple months, with… varying results. Let’s just say that Wonwoo isn’t particularly blessed in the foreign languages department. He says that it’s fine as long as he has Mingyu by his side, but Mingyu is still worried anyways.)

Mingyu gets a text on his phone from Roberto, his Ali Roma manager.

From: Roberto (Ali Roma): Have you landed? I’m here!

Luckily for them, they won’t have to navigate the Italian streets by themselves, at least not yet. The whole management team has made a point to accommodate Mingyu (and by extension, Wonwoo) on everything. Almost a little too much, at times.

It might have something to do with Wonwoo being here with him. After all, the management team was all shaken to find out that Kim Mingyu, Korea’s volleyball sweetheart, actually has a secret boyfriend coming along with him to Italy. Thankfully, they didn’t care much about it, in a good way. They understood to keep it under wraps, and it’s in his contract that he can come out when he wants.

It’s a breath of fresh air, compared to the stifling masculinity politics of South Korea. 

“Mingyu!” A voice comes from a black SUV waiting at the curb. It’s Roberto. He says in English: “You got here safe?”

Mingyu nods. “The flight went well.”

“Good, good,” he turns to Wonwoo and says, “I’ve heard a lot about you. You like games, huh?”

Wonwoo blinks at him, confused, and then turns to Mingyu.

“Translation?”

“He says he’s heard about how you like games.”

Wonwoo goes red and shakes Roberto’s hand. Luckily, he doesn’t mention how it’s weird that Roberto knows in the first place - Mingyu may have gotten too excited while talking about Wonwoo a couple months back during one of their meetings, but that’s no one’s business but his own. “Nice to meet you,” Wonwoo says in well-practiced English, though it’s just a little bit shaky.

Roberto grins. “You guys are cute. I was nervous when you said you had to bring your boyfriend, but you two seem sweet.”

Mingyu blushes. Okay, maybe he’s not used to being… out, especially around mere acquaintances, but it’s even odder to hear their relationship acknowledged so openly. “Um,” he says. “Thanks.”

It’s the first time anyone even knows about them to begin with, outside of their friend group and Wonwoo’s dad. It’ll take time to adjust to, and it’d be a lie to say Mingyu isn’t a little nervous about it. Wonwoo, who must have at least caught on to the vibes, also has a red face. He steps closer to Mingyu and laces their fingers together.

“Ah, young love,” Roberto sighs. “Okay, let’s get you to the dorms.”

Mingyu takes the initiative to manhandle the suitcases into the back, while Wonwoo sits with Seollie in the second seat. Mingyu joins him soon after.

“Your face is red,” Wonwoo teases him in Korean.

Mingyu nudges him in the side. “So is yours.”

The dorms, luckily, are single apartments. Wonwoo is able to live with him because Mingyu keeps telling management bullshit about how they’re engaged, and hoping to get married in Italy. Which, okay, isn’t a lie exactly (they’ve talked about it, after all - getting married in Italy while they’re here), but he’s mostly just been laying it on thick so they’d make the exception.

They were eager to do it, in the end. After all, Kim Mingyu is an international commodity they’re happy to have their hands on.

Rome is beautiful. Mingyu has been, once, when Ali Roma gave him the offer and he came to check out the facilities and accommodations. He signed the contract right after they told him he could bring Wonwoo along. The distance would’ve killed them, but Wonwoo was eager to leave Korea. Mingyu isn’t exactly sure why, when Wonwoo fits so comfortably into his schedule and friend group back home, but he’s not questioning it. Wonwoo is brutally honest when it comes to things like this, so it’d be obvious if he was uncomfortable with the whole ordeal. 

“You’ll be there,” is what Wonwoo had said when he made the decision to come along. “That’s what I care about.”

(And this is our only opportunity to be able to come out together, is what was left unsaid.)

(That… is a future plan. For the future. They haven’t talked about it, in exact terms, but they’re both aware of the weight this move holds, as well as the freedom it grants them. Wonwoo knows that Mingyu will come out sometime while he’s abroad, and Mingyu knows that Wonwoo is okay with that.)

Their explanation to Wonwoo’s audience about why Wonwoo was moving to Italy with his “best friend” was shaky at best. They honestly could’ve hidden it, but then Wonwoo would have had to pretend to not switch time zones, and ultimately, it was better to just come clean.

And by coming clean, they mean that they said Wonwoo wanted to spend time outside of Korea, so he came with Mingyu. Again, the excuse is shitty and gets more and more hard to believe by the day, but most people just accepted it at face value. So they’ll take whatever they can get.

Mingyu has met his teammates, and they’re all nice. Everyone here is so nice to him. He knows that it’s because of the weight his legacy carries, but still, it’s all still so unfamiliar. He’s used to stepping on eggshells around everyone, because of the burden of the secret on his shoulders - after all, if anyone got too close, they’d be able to see the truth. They’d be able to put two and two together and realize that Kim Mingyu spends a little too much time with his roommate.

He’s a bit scared now that everything is different. Unfamiliar territory always makes him nervous.

(He’s trying to not make it so obvious, though, because Wonwoo will always be more anxious than Mingyu could ever be. So he tries to keep on a brave face for the both of them.)

“Here we are!” Roberto says as they pull up to an apartment complex. 

It’s cute - kind of quaint. They’re in the heart of Rome, and all the buildings are old and very historical-looking.

“Thanks,” Mingyu tells him. It’s kind of weird to not add in the honorifics, but that’s more of a personal thing. “What floor are we on?”

Roberto leads them to the apartment and gives them the keys. It’s a top floor, two bedroom apartment with a decent sized living room and kitchen. They lug their suitcases up and Roberto leaves them alone to explore - they’ll see him tomorrow, at the team’s welcome dinner.

“I’ll come pick you up,” Roberto even offers. “It’s the off-season, so…”

“Thank you,” Mingyu tells him. “Seriously. This is awesome.”

Roberto laughs and shakes both of their hands. “Enjoy!”

He goes, and now they’re alone in their new apartment. Seollie is sniffing around the rooms, while both Mingyu and Wonwoo flop onto the couch, sighing.

“Remember how you were gonna tell them not to furnish the apartment?” Wonwoo asks. “We’d be on the floor right now.”

“Hyung, there’s no way you’re nagging me about this still,” Mingyu complains, a little whine to his voice.

Wonwoo makes a face. “I’m just saying.”

Mingyu grins. “Okay, sorry, you were right. C’mere.”

Mingyu holds his arms open, and Wonwoo sinks into him gladly. The couch is cushiony and soft and just big enough for the two of them to lay down together. Mingyu breathes in the smell of Wonwoo’s shampoo, the familiar cheap brand of strawberry that he’s obsessed with.

“We’re Korean, we need to shower,” Wonwoo says, muffled into Mingyu’s shoulder. He makes no effort to get up, though. “We’re gross.”

Mingyu holds him tighter. “We’re Italian, now,” he reminds him. 

Wonwoo makes a disgruntled noise. “That’s not what my visa says.”

“Okay, you’re lame,” Mingyu groans, and lets Wonwoo sit up. “Talking about visas. Baby, we should be breaking our new bed in.”

Wonwoo gives him a pointed look. “If you think we’re fucking after that flight, you’re dead wrong.”

Mingyu gives him his best pleading puppy eyes. 

Wonwoo glares. “No. We’re showering, and then sleeping.”

Mingyu tries again, but Wonwoo actually groans and leaves the room to head into the bathroom this time, muttering to himself about stupid Kim Mingyu’s stupid face.

Mingyu grins and calls after him: “Hyung. I was joking.”

“You’re banned from washing up with me!” Wonwoo calls back.

Even so, Wonwoo and Mingyu crowd into their enormous new tub together and wash each other’s hair, scrubbing off the muck and smell of the airport. It’s nearing midnight and they’re both still running on KST. Seollie whines at the door, so they take an impromptu walk around the block.

When they get back, they eat from their snack backpack, overjoyed to go to town on cup ramyeon and shrimp chips. Mingyu makes a grocery list for when they go out tomorrow, while Wonwoo insists they’ll be too tired.

Well, whatever. They can figure that all out later. 

It’s late, way too late, when they crawl into their new gigantic bed. Cushy mattress and new sheets and all. Wonwoo’s arms wrap around Mingyu’s waist as Mingyu noses into Wonwoo’s collarbone. He smells clean and his touch is warm and this is all just so nice. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine them still in that Seoul apartment. 

“I guess this is sorta nice,” Wonwoo mutters after a while of them laying in silence, “I like this bed.”

Mingyu sighs, content. “They really pulled out all the stops for us.”

One of Wonwoo’s hands reaches up to play with the hair on the back of Mingyu’s neck. He always grows it out long in the off-season, and Wonwoo didn’t even notice until they were three years into their relationship. Which is something Mingyu still teases him for. 

“I’m kind of scared, but I think it’ll be okay,” Wonwoo says, voice low.

Mingyu grins a little. Over the past couple years, Wonwoo has grown to be someone a little bit stronger, a little more confident. “It will be. We’re together.”

Wonwoo snorts. “I must be an idiot for following my boyfriend to another country,” he says. “We’re not even married.”

Mingyu squeezes him close. “Don’t act like you don’t already have a ring.”

“That wasn’t a proposal,” Wonwoo pulls away and looks at him. “That’s what you said.”

Mingyu grins. “Sometimes I lie.”

Wonwoo scoffs and pushes him away. “Idiot,” he says, voice fond. “Your proposal sucked. I want something better.”

Mingyu sits up and leans his head on one hand. “Something better, hm? What do you want?” He sneaks his arms around Wonwoo’s waist and drags him back in, so they’re chest to back. “Roses?” He asks in Wonwoo’s ear, voice low. “A bigger rock?”

“I thought I said we weren’t gonna ‘break the bed in’ tonight,” Wonwoo squirms a little. “Stop being a little shit.”

Mingyu laughs and relents. He digs his nose into the back of Wonwoo’s neck and rubs his face there. “You caught me.”

Wonwoo sighs, sounding exhausted, but snuggles in closer. “It’s fine as long as you don’t propose in public,” he says finally. “I just want it to be the two of us.”

Mingyu blinks. “The two of us, huh?” His insides feel gooey and warm and oddly content. The two of them sink and meld together in the softness of their bed.

“No one else,” Wonwoo clarifies. “Only want you.”

Mingyu grins and squeezes Wonwoo’s waist. That’s something he can do.

(8)

The only selfish thing Mingyu has ever done is volleyball.

He’s reminded of this when his sister texts him and asks if he’s coming home for Chuseok, and he tells her that he’s going to Jungkook’s house instead. He can’t take the oppressive silence of his parents staring at him over the expanse of the kitchen table anymore, looking at him like the shame on his face will tell them where it all went wrong.

He’s 24 and the Daejeon Bluefangs have a spot for him on their team. They like the swing of his arm, the force behind it. They have a good setter, someone who can make that swing stronger, and Mingyu can’t wait for it all.

It doesn’t change the way guilt eats away at his stomach every time he passes a family with a son out on the street. He looks at the parents carefully, their body language, wondering if they will make him choose between happiness or pleasing his parents, too. Just like how Mingyu did.

He hopes they won’t.

He spent all of his life being the perfect son, and now the remnants of him left behind are all twisted and cracked, unsure of themselves and where they belong. The last time he saw his parents was at his sister’s middle school graduation. He gave her a bouquet of lilies and they looked at him like he was a stranger.

Being selfish is unfamiliar, but it’s something he does everyday, now, as he goes to practice and spikes and blocks until his palms are sore. He chooses to be selfish when his friends ask him to go out and he declines because he’s busy conditioning. He’s become a selfish person between worlds, between his parents' intentions and his own pursuit of happiness.

Some days, he wonders if they even love him. Some days, he wonders if they were right all along.

He hangs the Bluefangs offer up on his fridge, as a reminder, and continues to be selfish. 

Volleyball isn’t easy, let alone the V-League, but that never stops him. He works out until his muscles are sore, he jumps until his calves are straining. He ignores his mother’s pleas for him to come home, it’s not too late to make things right, he can still be a good son for them. Mingyu doesn’t care about that anymore - about being good. No one he loves has told him that he’s good in a long, long time, and he’s fine that way.

People compliment his serve and his spike and his block and that’s enough. It has to be. 

Kim Mingyu is 24 and he has never been so selfish in his life. This is his first time not listening to his parents. He kisses boys, sometimes, and the rebellion within him feels so foreign. He holds their hands - their strong, manly hands, so unlike the hands of his past girlfriends - and squeezes. 

This is something he can have! He can be selfish!

(Does he even deserve it?)

Mingyu ignores the stress plaguing his mind, the push and pull between what he wants and expectations. Because it all comes back to expectations in the end - everyone wants something from him. They all expect things from him. And maybe the most selfish thing about him is that he really wishes they wouldn’t.

Some days, Mingyu just wants to be a fly on the wall, watching the world from a different perspective. Maybe that would make him understand why his father hasn’t ever told him that he loves him. Maybe it would explain why his parents stopped sending him money the second he told them about volleyball, so now he pays for everything through tutoring high school kids in English. Maybe it’ll explain why, out of everyone, it had to be him. 

Out of everyone, it was him who had to choose.

“You don’t look okay,” Jungkook says as a greeting, because they’re more like brothers than anything else, at this point. Jungkook’s mom regularly sends Mingyu food, which is more than his own mother has ever managed, so maybe that’s why.

“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says. Graduation is around the corner and he’s itching for that V-League salary so he can finally be free of lazy high school students and their mean, stupid parents. 

“Are you eating? Or just working out?” Jungkook pinches his thigh. “There’s some muscle growth here.”

Mingyu bats him away, too tired to be playful. “Both.”

Neither of them say anything for a while. They’ve never really had to - what do you even say to someone who has always known you, inside and out? Someone who understands just through linked fingers and the promise that their shoulder will always be yours to cry on? Jungkook touches their shoulders together and presses, just barely. Mingyu’s eyes grow watery. 

“Have you talked to Minseo lately?” Jungkook asks, voice gentler.

The tears are building, now, at the mention of his sister. “No,” Mingyu says - means to say - and it comes out as a sob.

Kim Mingyu is 24 and selfish and maybe a little bit bitter and he lets Jungkook, his best friend slash brother slash partner in crime, the only person who still loves him - at least anymore - hold him with one hand on his nape and the other brushing the hair out of his eyes.

“Shh,” Jungkook says, which is definitely the nicest he’s ever been in their 24 years of friendship. “It’s okay.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “It’s not.”

Jungkook nods. “No, it’s not. But you’re almost there, yeah? You’re almost free. Once you graduate…”

Mingyu laughs, and it’s wet and ugly. “I’ll never be free.”

Because that’s the truth, isn’t it? He won’t. He was born into the role, so he’ll die in it too. There’s no escaping it. His grave will say: Here lies Kim Mingyu. Son. He was bad at it. Nobody loved him.

“Maybe not,” Jungkook agrees. “Maybe it’ll always be this bad. But maybe it could be good, one day. Really good.”

“They don’t even love me,” Mingyu says, and they’re having two different conversations now. “I don’t know if they ever did.”

Mingyu’s whole life rests on the piece of paper on his fridge, the one that says, Kim Mingyu, we are pleased to offer you a position on the Daejeon Samsung Bluefangs during the 2021-2022 season. Jungkook holds him, like he’s the bigger one out of the two of them, and mutters: “It’s okay. Breathe.”

Mingyu breathes. With each inhale, he is breathing his own air, in a place his parents have never treaded. To them, it’s untouched.

He exhales the guilt and shame. One day, it could all be gone. Maybe, just maybe.

“They look at me like I’m a stranger,” Mingyu tells him, voice stuttering. “I don’t have anything anymore.”

Jungkook holds him. Mingyu breathes. The weight around his shoulders is grounding.

“The Bluefangs,” Jungkook points out.

Mingyu sighs. “I mean, besides that.”

What he does have, on that piece of paper, is worth his whole life of suffering. It’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s just still so empty - what will he do when there’s no one cheering for him in the stands? When he’s on top of the world, who will he share it with?

“There’s a world for you outside of here,” Jungkook reminds him. They’re in Mingyu’s shitty one room studio apartment, which is more similar to a box than it is to a room. “They’re waiting for you.”

The offer with his name on it. Jungkook putting pressure on the crown of his head. His volleyball sitting three feet away from them, colors dull and dirty with its use.

“You’re gonna show them, Gyu,” Jungkook promises. “You will.”

Mingyu cries and cries and rubs at his eyes. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

(29)

Their relationship is three days old, and Kim Mingyu is over the fucking moon.

Wonwoo is so pretty and Mingyu kisses him at every chance he gets. It’s a little obsessive, the way he feels about his hands resting in the divots of Wonwoo’s hips, but it’s ultimately okay because his boyfriend is just as quick to bury his head into Mingyu’s collarbones and take a deep inhale.

So basically, they’re obsessed with each other. It’s awesome. 

Despite everyone’s teasing, Mingyu spends every second he can at Wonwoo’s side. Olympic training is ramping up, so the most he can do is spend the nights at Wonwoo’s house and leave early the next morning to make it to the gym, but it’s worth it. Jeon Wonwoo is always worth it.

“Are you going to start to pay me rent, or what?” Wonwoo asks when Mingyu gets to the apartment at 7 PM sharp, takeout dinner in hand. “You haven’t been home in days. Seokmin texted me.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “He saw me at practice. I’d rather be here, with you, than watching Love is Blind with him.”

Wonwoo’s expression goes soft. “You really like me, huh?” He says, sounding a little smug.

Mingyu grins and walks over to the kitchen counter to wrap him into a hug. “Of course I do,” he says. “You’re my favorite.”

“So cheesy,” Wonwoo mumbles, but accepts the hug anyway. “What’d you get me?”

Mingyu breathes in the scent of his shampoo and squeezes him. “Naengmyeon,” he says. “You wanted it yesterday, remember?”

Wonwoo laughs. “Oh, you like me so bad.”

There’s nothing Mingyu can say against that.

They eat and Seollie circles around their feet. They hook their ankles together and talk about their days. It’s nice - it’s everything Mingyu has ever wanted in his life. Someone to come home to, someone who loves him for who he is. Wonwoo looks sleepy and rumpled and Mingyu is in love.

“Mingyu-ah, thank you for the meal,” Wonwoo pats his belly as Mingyu does the dishes. “I love you.”

Mingyu grins. “I love you too, hyung.”

(45)

“I hate this game,” Mingyu announces the fifth time he dies in the span of seven minutes. “It’s so stupid.”

Wonwoo snickers from his own desk. “It’s because you keep running into the enemy team.”

Over the years, Mingyu has tried again and again to get into League of Legends for Wonwoo’s sake, but he’s just so bad at it. The game makes no sense - where is all of their health coming from? Why is he dying so fast? How do you even play this game?

No matter how many times Wonwoo tries to explain it to him and walk him through schematics, it just isn’t sticking. Mingyu’s brain is wired for analytics and adjusting play styles in volleyball. Not this dumb PC game.

Mingyu is trying, okay? Really, he is. And it’s half because he wants to understand the appeal, half because he wants Wonwoo to love him more than he loves Faker (which will probably never happen, but a guy can dream). But Mingyu isn’t a gamer, isn’t familiar with the key mashing sequences, doesn’t quite understand what any of his abilities do, no matter how many times Wonwoo explains it to him. It makes him feel like an idiot.

He respawns, channels to their turret, and immediately dies again.

“Hyung,” Mingyu whines, devastated. 

Wonwoo just laughs. He thinks this is all so funny.

Mingyu grinds his teeth as he respawns again, channeling to their turret again. Being bad at this game isn’t even fun, it’s embarrassing and sad and exhausting. But Mingyu is going to try, of course, for Wonwoo. As he always does. As he always should. 

Mingyu tries to face off against the team’s Amumu, except the bastard uses his fucking ult on him while his teammates swoop in and gang up on Mingyu, who dies, naturally, right away. And he tried so, so hard this time. What the fuck is wrong with this game?

League of Legends sucks and was created to piss Kim Mingyu off specifically!

Mingyu sighs as he respawns. “Hyung,” he says, low enough that the mic can’t pick his voice up. “Help me.”

Wonwoo turns to him and smiles a little shit-eating grin. “Okay,” he says. “Just stay behind me.”

The thing about your boyfriend having ranked Masters every act since 2015 is that he will make a smurf account for your elo, and he will destroy the whole other team for you. Mingyu watches in delight as Wonwoo gets a triple kill with the quiet mashing of buttons and flick of his wrist on the mouse.

Mingyu stays far, far behind him, and farms minion kills. This is the only thing he is useful for.

The game chat goes crazy with the other team’s rage as Wonwoo kills the last two and gets a penta. This is an iron lobby!!! and WTF SMURF?? and CRINGEEEEE fill the chat. Mingyu laughs and Wonwoo gives him a sideways look.

“See, now they’ve caught onto us,” Wonwoo says. “I’m gonna have to make another account.”

This is the 4th smurf Wonwoo has made, since he keeps raising the MMR on the other accounts. He complains, but at the end of the day, always says it’s worth it to play with you, Min. 

Heh. Wonwoo does spoil him, in his own way.

“You’re just so cool that they got mad,” Mingyu grins. “You’re so handsome and strong and smart and-”

“Alright,” Wonwoo cuts him off. “That’s enough out of you.”

Mingyu giggles to himself. The stream chat fills with Mingyu pog and LCK soon trust!! and is Mingyu even playing?? Two people on the other team rage quit as Wonwoo, yet again, gets another penta.

Whoops! Sucks to suck.

They win the ARAM in no time. Mingyu has no kills or assists, but he manages to kill over 50 minions. Chat actually laughs at him for that, and Mingyu pretends like it’s a huge achievement anyway.

“We need to get you into easier games,” Wonwoo sighs, closing the game. “This can’t keep happening.”

Mingyu shrugs. “It’s kind of funny. C’mon, let’s play more.”

Wonwoo ignores him in order to turn and talk to chat, which is annoying because they’re also telling him to get back on. Mingyu pouts at the back of his head.

“He’s trying to end stream!” Mingyu yells over into the mic. “Stop him!”

Accordingly, chat speeds up, full of NOOOO and DON’T LEAVEEE and WONWOO WHY T_T!!!!! It’s rare moments like these where Mingyu and chat are in cahoots together, and when it happens, it’s almost always because they want to see Wonwoo play more League of Legends.

“Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo groans, removing his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Stop it.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu says, with feeling. “One more?” 

Wonwoo looks over at him and Mingyu pulls his best puppy dog eyes. Wonwoo frowns. Mingyu knows that he’s got him when Wonwoo puts his glasses back on and turns back to his monitor, grumbling a little.

“Ugh, fine,” Wonwoo says, opening the game back up. “Just one more.”

Mingyu smiles to himself. Sometimes Wonwoo hyung is just so easy.

(32)

Mingyu is back in Korea, finally, when he gets the call. It’s early in the morning and he has no obligations to tend to today, so he has Wonwoo tucked under his chin, sprawled against his chest, as the early morning light rays dance across the white sheets. 

He should’ve known it was gonna happen eventually. The call, that is.

His phone rings - the number is unfamiliar. Mingyu picks it up only because there are members of management whose numbers he doesn’t have saved, and they always need him for some odd task or another. Though it’s his day off, so he’s tempted to tell them to fuck off and bother Seungcheol instead.

“Hello?” He picks it up.

The voice on the other end makes his blood freeze. “Mingyu.”

It’s been four long years since he’s last heard it, but Mingyu recognizes the voice of his mother. He blinks up at the ceiling, brain rapidly rocketing towards panic at her tone of voice alone, and sits up.

“Mother,” Mingyu says, voice hard.

The shift in position makes Wonwoo wake up immediately. He blinks up sleepily at Mingyu and tilts his head in confusion. Mingyu pats his head, silently praying that Wonwoo will go back to sleep.

He doesn’t - Mingyu pretends like he isn’t there. He wishes that Wonwoo wasn’t here to listen in on this conversation, but Mingyu is frozen to his spot in bed, unable to run away or flee to another, more private, room. His bottom is lip quivering already. Preemptively aware that this conversation will end in tears one way or another.

“We saw the news,” his mom says. “The Olympics. Korea got gold.”

She doesn’t say you got gold, because then she’d be admitting that he’s completed his life-long goal, despite the terror they cast over him as a kid. And if there’s one thing about his parents, it’s that they will never admit to being wrong, especially if he isn’t under their thumb. 

“We did,” Mingyu says. “I did.”

Wonwoo sits up with him, then, at the sound of his sharp tone, and puts an arm around Mingyu’s shoulders. Mingyu’s first instinct is to push him away, but he shoves that instinct deep, deep down, because he would never forgive himself if he did. Wonwoo just cares, he does - but Mingyu doesn’t want him to know about this part of him, not yet. Mingyu avoids his eyes and lets Wonwoo touch him and swallows hard.

“So you really went off to play volleyball,” the disapproval in his mom’s voice still hurts, after all this time. “Is your salary good? Have you found a nice girl?”

Still, after everything, that’s all that’s ever mattered to them. Despite Mingyu’s happiness and his own achievements, he suddenly feels so small again. Teenaged and trying to morph himself into something his parents could decide to love one day.

Mingyu’s fist clenches and his jaw tightens up. “Why did you call me?”

She laughs a little, in that angry tone Mingyu is so familiar with. “You haven’t called, you haven’t come back to Anyang. You’re still rebelling at your age, huh? Think about how it looks on us that you don’t come back home. It’s bad for our reputation.”

Reputation. That’s all she cares about. It’s a sore reminder, and the part of Mingyu’s brain that constantly makes him feel weak and afraid and vulnerable boils with red-hot anger. 

“I’m not coming back home,” is what Mingyu says. He says it before he can think not to. “I won gold for our country and you can’t even tell me that you’re proud of me.”

It’s the truth. A part of Mingyu wants to be the bigger person and hang up the call entirely, but the part of him that is small and young and craving for someone to love him unconditionally makes him want to reach out into the space between them and ask: did you even ever care about me? Even though he’d rather not hear the answer, not really. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle it.

It’s funny, how he’s still so susceptible to their words. How he still crumbles so easily. The past four years he’s spent making himself into something unbreakable feel like such a waste now.

Because even if she did love him, could that undo all the terror they put in him over the past 27 years? All the hurt and insecurity? Tears water up in Mingyu’s eyes and spill over. Fuck - this is not how today was supposed to go. It was supposed to be quality time spent wrapped up with Wonwoo in his arms. 

Wonwoo rests his head on his shoulder and strokes his hair.

“I don’t see why we have to be proud of you,” his mother replies, voice even-toned and cruel in the way it betrays no emotion. She still picks out her words carefully, always going for maximum psychological damage. Cruel to the bone, as always. “You never wanted to please us, Mingyu, you just wanted to disobey us. How am I supposed to be proud of that? When you couldn’t even come home for Chuseok?” 

It shouldn’t hurt, after all this time, but it still does. Some parents soften with age, but Mingyu’s parents only get more exact in their ability to hurt him.

Something bubbles up deep from his gut, and morphs into something terrible. It’s the rage and the bitterness and the loneliness and the years of I will never be good. Mingyu is back in his apartment from when was 24, shaking and hurting and desperate. Wonwoo’s hold on him tightens and something in Mingyu snaps.

“All I wanted was for you to love me,” he says, voice heated and breaking. “I’m 27 now, and I don’t owe you anything.”

Because he doesn’t and he’s exhausted. He’s tired of looking over his shoulder, feeling like their eyes are always on him. Tired of seeing the way people can peer into his soul when he’s too honest, like they can see the ugly parts of him laid bare. Refusing to hold his boyfriend’s hand in public, masking up to go to his car, constantly terrified that he’s being followed with cameras and whispers and the sense of disappointment that waits for him in his shadow. 

What does he owe them? His misery? The fact that even now, after everything, his palms still get sweaty around authority figures? The fact that he avoids the mention of his family in interviews, is weird around his friends’ dads, doesn’t know how to act when someone asks if he’s close with his mom, still stumbles over his words when he tries to say anything close to the truth. The fact that he sleeps with one eye open, barely trusts his boyfriend to not leave him, hates the way his body looks in the mirror, despises himself even though he is all that he has left, even though he’s only had himself for so fucking long-

He doesn’t know what it is, exactly, that compels him to say it, but he does. The dam breaks, and he doesn’t care about looking composed for his own sake anymore, or even bothering to try and please them. Not that he ever could, at this point.

“I have a boyfriend, mother. He’s a man and he loves me.” She lets out a breath on the other side of the line, and Mingyu nearly laughs as he cries and cries. It’s like a scene out of a K-drama, how blatantly awful this all is. Like he’s the side character meant to suffer for the rest of his life. “You can tell all of your friends that your son is gay and a disappointment, and I hope your reputation suffers for it. My salary is good, and I’m not meeting a nice girl, and if I ever have kids, you’ll never know about them.”

His mom’s voice is enraged, loud and abrasive as she says, “Kim Mingyu-”

He’s so bitter and tired and small. He doesn't want to be small anymore. He wants to be big and all encompassing and something vast, bigger than the world, something worthy. 

“I’ve been happy, you know,” Mingyu continues. “You and father never wanted me to be happy, but I am happy. And you can’t take that away from me.”

There’s the truth, again, and it’s honest no matter how much it hurts. All Mingyu feels is numbness and Wonwoo’s touch around him, gentle and feather-light. Wonwoo, who loves him even right now, is here. Thank god. It’s all he needs.

“You’re a disappointment,” his mother says, voice shaking like she wants to cry at the very idea of her bisexual son being happy with another man. “I don’t understand how you could turn out like this. How could you do this to us?”

To them. Like it was a deliberate choice to hurt them. Mingyu’s body is tensing and tensing so much that he feels like he’s going to break apart. 

How could you do this to us? To us. To us, your family, the people who raised you, the people who should’ve loved you, the people who turned you into a monster- 

The fight bleeds out of him all at once, as quickly as it came, sucking him dry. Defeat. Because the truth underlying all of this is that he was always going to suffer, always going to disappoint them, always ending up having to be cruel in order to escape. He doesn’t want to argue anymore. He doesn’t want anything at all.

“I don’t care,” Mingyu says. “Don’t call me ever again.” He hangs up the phone.

It’s over.

The silence that follows is so overwhelming, he nearly chokes on it. Wonwoo’s weight is heavy against his shoulders and Mingyu lets his phone fall from his hand onto the bed. He stares at the screen until it turns off, and then even longer after that. His shoulders untense until he feels so loose that his limbs feel like they might just slip away from him entirely.

His mind, already racing with thoughts of they never even loved me and how could they say that?, goes carefully blank. Like a switch, the numbness overtakes him, and Mingyu just stares and stares at his phone like it’ll give him all the answers to all of the questions that have plagued him throughout his short, terrible life.

“Mingyu-ah,” Wonwoo’s voice comes eventually, impossibly gentle. 

Mingyu turns and looks at him, sees Wonwoo’s soft expression and concerned eyes, and breaks into a pathetic sob.

He’s been away from them since he was 23, and they still have so much power over him. Mingyu lets Wonwoo hold him tight and coo at him as he lets out over 4 years worth of tears, over 4 years of pain. He’s had all these years of freedom, but there’s a lifetime and a childhood worth of hurt that overshadows it all. He can barely breathe, but he doesn’t stop crying - it hurts, but there’s nothing he can do but tremble from the feelings of shame and guilt and everything that has plagued him since he last saw their faces across the kitchen table all those years ago.

“I’m sorry,” is all Mingyu can say. “I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo didn’t know about all of this, not yet - he just knew that his parents aren’t in the picture and he sends his sister allowance every month. He doesn’t know about the guilt in the shame and the bitterness that has eaten Mingyu’s insides alive. Mingyu was going to tell him eventually, when the thought of it all didn’t make it feel like he was reopening a poorly-healed wound. Mingyu was supposed to be brave and cool and loveable, always - not this. Not… broken.

“Why are you sorry?” Wonwoo mutters into his ear, stroking his hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Mingyu tries to explain, but the words don’t come. “They- they don’t. They can’t - they never - hyung.”

Wonwoo may not know everything, not entirely, but he’s smart. Always able to put two and two together. He holds Mingyu close. 

“It’s okay, Min, you can cry. Hyung’s here for you.”

It should feel weak and pathetic, to be babied like this, but Wonwoo just feels so safe. Mingyu sinks into his arms and cries and cries and tries to not think how even now, after all these years, his mother’s voice still holds no fondness for him.

Maybe it did, once upon a time. But if it ever did, he doesn’t remember.

It doesn’t help that the growing pains never really left him. With age, Mingyu grows to look more and more like his father, especially when he frowns. The bitter truth is that the heartache is in his blood, in his DNA, and nothing can change that. When he was 25, he avoided mirrors like the plague, because he saw his own father staring back at him.

At least he isn’t alone anymore. Wonwoo doesn’t leave his side - even though things aren’t easy for him either. 

And that’s - that’s the point of all of this, isn’t it? The fact that things aren’t easy for either of them, despite what Mingyu has spent the past few years of his life trying to convince himself? Their relationship wouldn’t work without that healthy level of codependency between them, the level where a day without each other sucks and they can act like a shoulder to lean on, but never where the need for the other - the need for someone - outweighs the love. 

Wonwoo loves him. He does. He loves Mingyu, and it’s the most obvious thing about him, the love radiating off him in waves. Giving Mingyu a hug even when he’s sweaty and gross or fresh off an overnight flight, and kissing his forehead when he wakes up in the morning - okay, the afternoon - bleary and sleepy but seeking out the affection anyways, and every couple weeks when he gets a determination to make them both breakfast even though he is still actively burning every egg he tries to cook, despite Mingyu’s best attempts to teach him otherwise. 

Wonwoo is loving. Wonwoo is good. He is everything that his parents aren’t, he’s everything that really matters, and even when he’s imperfect, that’s just him being Jeon Wonwoo, and shit, Mingyu fucking loves him. 

Loving and getting loved in return. By a boy, no less. If 12 year old Mingyu could see himself now, he’d absolutely shit himself. 

He doesn’t know if that thought is comforting or just makes this whole thing feel more… surreal. A fresh wave of tears comes - not bad tears, though, not exactly - and Mingyu just sits there. Staring down his phone, crying, all while being loved by the man in bed next to him. His mom is back in Anyang, probably cursing out his name to anyone who will listen, all while the sun continues to filter through the curtains, light falling over them. Seollie continues to chew at her bone in the hallway outside. Time continues on, and Wonwoo never stops stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu’s voice is hoarse. And then because he feels like he needs an excuse for it: “I’m so weak.”

Wonwoo sighs against his ear, and it tickles. “Don’t say that. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Sure, Mingyu is strong in theory, but Wonwoo is the one who brute forces his way through therapy, determined to get better with each passing day. So the statement is a little hard to believe.

Mingyu manages to give him a sideways look. Wonwoo squeezes him a little tighter.

“You went to the Olympics and won gold. You chased after me even when I was in denial,” Wonwoo continues. “You’ve always been strong, Min. I don’t know anything about your parents, but it’s on them for saying all of that to you. You’re adored by everyone I know, okay? You’re lovely.”

Mingyu lets out a shuddering sigh. There’s the love again, so strong it’s nearly suffocating, and here he is - clinging onto it like a lifeline. “I’m gonna disappoint you, you know. I’m gonna disappoint everyone.”

Mingyu feels Wonwoo shake his head. “You could never disappoint me. I adore you.”

The words are simple, but it’s enough to break his heart in two. Mingyu turns around and buries his face deep into Wonwoo’s neck and breathes in the scent there. Wonwoo’s generic body wash, the smell of his detergent. Clean and familiar. 

Wonwoo just hugs him. And that’s enough.

Enough for the mental block in his brain - the one that a childhood’s worth of tears and angst has taken refuge behind, just waiting and waiting for someone to come and free it - to crumble, a little bit. It crumbles enough.  

“I’ll tell you everything eventually,” Mingyu promises, voice low and broken. “As long as you won’t leave me.”

Mingyu is a little bitter, deep inside his sternum, when it comes to trust and vulnerability - even now, even still - and even saying that out loud to his boyfriend feels goddamn pathetic, but - god, he just needs to say it. To admit it to anyone, anyone other than himself, that he’s terrified of being alone again. 

“I won’t,” Wonwoo says, like he’s telling the truth. Honest eyes and all. Just like that, Mingyu believes him. 

Wonwoo has a thing about keeping promises and Mingyu has a thing about loving him unabashedly, and it feels okay to trust him. To give into his warmth and promise of safety. It’s - well, it’s Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo, who he loves, who loves him even after everything that’s happened between them. Who has always promised him forever - in some roundabout ways, yeah, but definitely has - and will accept this part of him, too. Even the ugly parts. Especially the ugly parts. 

Mingyu tightens his arms around Wonwoo’s middle and squeezes. He kicks his phone away. He thinks about the times when Wonwoo has described himself as broken, or healing, and some distant part of his mind wonders if this is just their chance to heal together. To become something new entirely. Something better.

“Alright,” Mingyu says, after a long moment of breathing in Wonwoo’s smell. “Thank you, hyung.”

Wonwoo, unwavering even after everything - even after all the hurt - just holds him tighter. “Don’t thank me. I’d do anything for you.”

Chapter Text

(34)

Mingyu was hoping that their first trip together would be something more romantic or tropical, but instead, they’re on a four hour drive to Changwon.

He’s going to shit his pants.

“We should’ve taken KTX, look at the traffic,” Wonwoo is saying in that I told you so voice of his. Any other day, Mingyu would’ve thought it was cute, or bickered right back, but today of all days is not exactly putting him in the mood. There is a limit to Kim Mingyu’s shamelessness, after all.

“I need your dad to see that I have a nice car,” Mingyu mumbles, half-focused on the road in front of him, half-focused on his sweaty palms on the steering wheel. “He should know that I can provide for you.”

Wonwoo snorts out a laugh, unimpressed as always. “I have just as much money as you.”

Mingyu frowns, hard. “Don’t remind me.”

Three months into their relationship, it’s time for Mingyu to meet the family for Chuseok. To say he’s nervous would be an understatement.

In a way, it makes him more nervous because he doesn’t exactly have a family of his own. His brain runs through every disaster scenario - what if Wonwoo’s dad doesn’t like Mingyu and doesn’t accept the relationship? What would they do? They’d have no family to support them. What if Wonwoo breaks up with him and he ends up alone again? What would-

“Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo reprimands. “I can see the look in your eyes.”

Mingyu frowns. You can always count on Wonwoo to catch him red-handed. He pretends to be extra focused on the road ahead of him, eyes squinted, dangerously close to pouting.

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” he says. “The only look I have is being in love with my boyfriend.”

That gets a huff of a laugh out of Wonwoo, at least. Though he doesn’t seem to be entirely convinced.

To be brutally honest, this whole thing is weird for Mingyu because he simply can’t relate to the care-free attitude Wonwoo has towards impressing his family. He wasn’t brought up with the buckle of a belt against his back, he wasn’t bred in the image of perfection. Not like Mingyu was. There wasn’t ever a time where Mingyu even considered coming out to his parents, let alone bringing a boyfriend home with him.

Not that he would’ve ever been given the opportunity, but still.  

Wonwoo’s dad knows that Wonwoo is gay, but it almost makes the fear even worse - he’s met Wonwoo’s past boyfriends and therefore he must have incredibly high standards. Standards that Mingyu could never possibly live up to, because he hasn’t even been able to live up to his own parents’ expectations.

When he voiced this to Wonwoo, Wonwoo had said that it doesn’t get better than dating an Olympic athlete to most Korean parents, but Mingyu hadn’t believed him. After all, his own mother and father wouldn’t have exactly been impressed.

(What do you have to show for yourself? His dad’s voice taunts him, whispering in the back of his head. What do you have to be proud about? What have you ever done? All you do is disappoint everyone, disappoint yourself, ruin everything-)

“Min,” Wonwoo says, voice gentle. He puts a hand on Mingyu’s thigh and squeezes. “Come on, breathe.”

Mingyu has to inhale, exhale. The same way Wonwoo taught him. There’s no use in working himself up.

“Sorry,” Mingyu mumbles, ears red. A little ashamed. 

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” Wonwoo huffs. “You’re my boyfriend and I love and you treat me well and if my dad hated you, I’d tell him to fuck off.”

Wonwoo must realize that him saying that actually helps nothing, because then he looks a little sheepish when Mingyu sends him a sideways glance, not convinced in the slightest. Though he appreciates the sentiment anyway. 

“But that won’t matter because they’re gonna love you,” Wonwoo concedes, voice firm. “Seriously, trust me.”

“Uh-huh,” Mingyu can’t help but be a little disbelieving. Because he’s traumatized or whatever. 

“I’m serious, I sent my dad a picture of you and he said that you’re very handsome,” Wonwoo insists. Any other time, he would never admit this to Mingyu’s face - I can’t stroke your ego any further, he always says, even though the mere fact that Mingyu is dating his teenage crush, GAM3RBO1, has sent his ego sky high as it is. “He said that you’re more handsome than all of my exes.”

Call him easy to please, but that makes Mingyu perk up. 

“Really?” He asks. Mingyu laces his fingers with Wonwoo’s and squeezes. “Did he actually?”

“Yes,” Wonwoo says, exasperated. “And Bohyun is super into volleyball, so he’s gonna love you.”

That’s slightly more promising, but Mingyu isn’t completely convinced. “Kwannie said that Bohyun told one of your exes to go fuck himself.”

Wonwoo sighs. “Yeah, but that was Daesung - he was a piece of shit. Bohyun’s just protective. He’ll accept you once he realizes that you’re completely whipped for me.”

And, well. Mingyu can’t exactly argue with that.

He taps on the steering wheel, to the beat of the IU song playing on the AUX. Wonwoo is holding his hand tightly and the drive isn’t going too badly. It could be worse.

“You promise that they won’t hate me?” Mingyu asks in a small voice. He wouldn’t ever be outwardly so insecure, not normally, but he’s always been touchy when it comes to family stuff. And Wonwoo has always been the one exception to Mingyu’s long list of never’s.

Wonwoo, after all, knows this. Knows his insecurities and knows that he’s the only person Mingyu has ever really let see the vulnerable parts of him. Knows about the phone calls and the occasional texts and the growing amount of blocked numbers from Anyang. There are times when he has to drag it out of Mingyu - who tries to hide out of habit - but he knows all of it now. It’s only him and Jungkook that know everything.

He had witnessed Mingyu getting the phone call after the Olympics, after all. Had witnessed how easy it was to break him down into nothing. Had witnessed the cruelty of his mother’s voice. And yet he still loves him anyway. 

Mingyu can hear the grin in Wonwoo’s voice. “They’re gonna love you.”

He’s not entirely convinced, but Wonwoo doesn’t sugarcoat things, so he leaves it at that. They stop at a rest stop to fill up on gas and get tonggamja, which they share over the middle console as the drive continues. Three hours later, they pull up to Wonwoo’s childhood home in Uichang-gu.

“We’re here,” Wonwoo nudges him, when Mingyu makes no attempt to get out of the car.

He swallows and looks up at the two story home. “Uh,” he says. “Yeah. Okay.”

Mingyu gets their bags from the backseat as Wonwoo goes up to the door and puts the passcode in. The door swings open and they enter together, taking off their shoes. 

“Yah, I’m home!” Wonwoo calls out.

“Oh,” a voice says from the top of the stairs. “You’re here already.”

Mingyu looks up to see Bohyun, who is the spitting image of Wonwoo (besides being a little on the shorter side). Mingyu freezes, nervous, as Bohyun looks him up and down. His sharp gaze is a dead match to Wonwoo’s icy stare.

“Say hi,” Wonwoo presses. Mingyu doesn’t know who he’s talking to.

Mingyu bows and says, “Hello, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“Damn,” Bohyun says, coming down the stairs. Mingyu looks at him warily. “You’re actually dating Kim Mingyu, hyung?”

Wonwoo makes a face. “You were the one who told me off for posting so many pictures of him.”

Mingyu goes a little red. Okay, that’s embarrassing to hear from Wonwoo’s little brother, because Mingyu definitely posts way more photos of Wonwoo than Wonwoo posts him. 

“That was a joke,” Bohyun says.

“I never joked about it when you and Minsung were going all hot and heavy-”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Bohyun says to Mingyu, ignoring Wonwoo completely. “I’m the brother.”

Okay, well. Could be worse.

Mingyu nods appreciatively and Wonwoo snorts out a laugh, as he does whenever he experiences an awkward situation. He’s a menace when it comes to this type of stuff, like introducing Mingyu to his friends, which is funny since Wonwoo wanted to die the second Mingyu took the time to go around and introduce him to all of his teammates.

Hypocrite.

“Where’s dad?” Wonwoo asks, bulldozing over the way Mingyu stands next to him stiffly, unsure if he should try and shake Bohyun’s hand or not. “I told him we were getting here soon.”

“He went to the store, he’ll be back soon,” Bohyun says. “You want anything to drink, Mingyu-ssi?”

Mingyu blinks. He didn’t expect Bohyun to be welcoming towards him - Seungkwan’s warnings were pretty graphic, after all. He’s got that cold stare, though Mingyu’s starting to think that might just be a Jeon thing. Seungkwan painted him out to be akin to the devil himself - but there’s also the chance that Seungkwan was just trying to start shit out of boredom.

Yeah, probably. That sounds about right.

“Um,” he says. “I’m okay.”

“Just call him hyung,” Wonwoo says, leading them further into the hallway. “You’ll see that he’s much too like a puppy to be so formal.”

Mingyu reddens but can’t disagree, exactly. He puts down their bags in the foyer and follows Wonwoo into the living room.

Bohyun grins, chin resting in his hand. His shit-eating grin is a dead ringer to Wonwoo’s. “A puppy, huh?”

Wonwoo’s smile matches his brother’s. “I mean, just look at him.”

Mingyu blinks as his face is dissected by the two of them, and just stands there awkwardly. “Hyung,” he whines. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Oh, I see it,” Bohyun agrees.

“Yeah, it’s cute,” Wonwoo says smugly.

Mingyu has no idea what is going on, exactly, but the moment is broken by the front door opening and the sound of plastic bags rustling. Wonwoo’s dad grumbles as he walks into the room, and stops dead in his tracks when he sees the three of them together.

“Oh,” he says. “So that’s your fancy car in the driveway?”

Mingyu goes red as Wonwoo and Bohyun both laugh.

“I’m Kim Mingyu,” Mingyu bows anyway. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“So polite,” his dad comes over and shakes his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You’re even more handsome than you were in the photos.”

Mingyu says nervously: “Oh, thank you. I try my best.”

Wonwoo’s dad laughs. “Aww, you’re cute.”

Well, alright. That’s the second time Wonwoo’s dad has mentioned his looks in the past twenty seconds, and Mingyu is starting to understand where Wonwoo gets his one-liners from. 

After pleasantries are made, dinner is set up. Wonwoo’s dad sets out songpyeon and Mingyu retrieves the japchae and kimchi jeon he made at home from the cooler they brought with them from Seoul. He heats it up, and Wonwoo’s dad is instantly taken by Mingyu’s cooking. In fact, all three of them make the same delighted face after tasting Mingyu’s food.

It must run in the family.

“So, you play volleyball?” Wonwoo’s dad asks. “And you’re an Olympian. I was wondering how Wonwoo managed that.”

Mingyu laughs. He’s a little more comfortable over a meal, now that they have food as a buffer. “Well, I was hyung’s fan at first, but then we became friends.”

Wonwoo’s face goes red. “Don’t tell him that,” he says. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Ohhh, a fan. So you also like video games?” Wonwoo’s dad asks, something in his expression a little knowing. “Since that’s all he does in those videos.”

Mingyu grins. “No. I just like him.”

It’s absolutely shameless, but everyone besides Wonwoo is certainly pleased with his words. Bohyun laughs loudly and Wonwoo’s dad smiles widely. Wonwoo kicks him under the table, and Mingyu just continues on with his shit-eating grin.

This is his one and only time to express his love for Wonwoo to people who love him just as much, and he’s not taking that for granted.

“I hate you,” Wonwoo grumbles.

Mingyu pats his thigh. “I love you too, hyung.”

Wonwoo’s dad coos and Bohyun just laughs even louder. It’s clear that they adore Wonwoo, in the way they encourage the affection between them. Instead of being disgusted by it, or put-off, or upset. Mingyu hadn’t even known that there were families who loved each other like this, unconditionally, accepting each other’s flaws without a second thought. 

Not that being gay is a flaw. But it’s not like Mingyu was ever taught any differently. 

Watching the family around him makes him feel… he doesn’t know, exactly. There’s a part of him that’s bitter, of course - there always will be - but he’s also fascinated by the way they interact. By the way they all joke around with each other.

Wonwoo’s dad doesn’t yell at his sons to sit up straighter, or be better hosts, or criticize them for not being good enough. No, he’s interested in their lives. The projects they’re working on, the things they’ve been doing. He loves them. It’s a stark contrast to what Mingyu is used to, despite the fact that he hasn’t actually seen his parents in years.

The ghost of his own family sits heavy on his shoulders. Mingyu tries not to think about the weight, how it’s always there. 

Wonwoo’s dad is a good father. He’s nice and kind and accepts his son for being who he is. Mingyu’s jealousy is nearly palpable and it’s shameful, because he knows that Wonwoo hasn’t had an easy life, either, no matter how loving his family is now. But it doesn’t stop Mingyu’s heart from clenching at the way Wonwoo’s dad pinches his sons’ cheeks and coos at them and says, so easily, that he’s proud of them. 

It feels… he doesn’t know. He thought that it’d be easier to deal with all of this by now.

“Do you have any siblings, Mingyu?” Wonwoo’s dad asks eventually. “With a face as handsome as yours, I hope they made more of you.”

Mingyu smiles. “I have a little sister. She’s a senior in high school right now.”

“Aww,” Wonwoo’s dad says. Mingyu can feel Wonwoo’s eyes on the side of his head - it’s not often that he talks about his family, and Wonwoo knows that. A hand squeezes his thigh. “Are you two close?”

Mingyu knows what he wants to hear, he’s heard a million times before: brothers and sisters should be close, it makes the parents happy. But something about the atmosphere makes it hard to lie to Wonwoo’s dad, who is so effortlessly nice and accommodating and thinks he’s handsome. 

“My parents and I… we’re not really on speaking terms,” Mingyu says. “So I don’t talk to her as often as I should.”

Wonwoo’s dad nods, understanding. “I see. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Mingyu smiles, a little sadly. “They didn’t want me to play volleyball, but I did it anyway. No big deal.”

It is a big deal. It’s been a big deal his whole life, but Wonwoo’s dad doesn’t need to know all about that. Wonwoo tangles their fingers together and squeezes. 

“You’re always welcome here,” Wonwoo’s dad says, voice warm, and Mingyu kind of wants to cry. “It may be a long drive from Seoul in that fancy car of yours, but you can come whenever you want to.”

Mingyu’s vision goes watery and shaky and he nods, and that’s that.

After dinner, someone breaks out the karaoke machine, and the warm mood quickly devolves from there. Apparently Wonwoo’s dad takes karaoke very seriously - everyone sings three times, and whoever has the most points at the end wins. Mingyu sings a horrible rendition of Love Rain and comes in third place. 

“Is he always like this?” Mingyu whispers to Wonwoo as his dad hits the high notes in a Big Mama song.

“It’s usually worse,” Wonwoo smiles. “He’s trying to be chill since you’re here.”

Mingyu doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’s so, so earnestly grateful right now, so much so that he doesn’t even mind it when Wonwoo’s dad drags them into singing along to five trot songs in a row. If this is what it means to have a loving family, sign him the fuck up.

They sing along to Hong Jinyoung and watch the Chuseok special of Running Man. He tells them that he’s friends with Kim Jongkook (“It’s an Anyang thing,” he says), and Bohyun asks for an autograph. It’s nice. It’s warm. It’s like nothing Mingyu has experienced before, the love that this family blatantly shows each other. 

Eventually, he escapes to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Bohyun joins him.

“I don’t need to tell you to be careful with hyung’s heart, right?” Bohyun asks. Cuts right to the chase, just like his brother.

Mingyu shakes his head. “I’m friends with Jun hyung and Soonyoung hyung. I got the shovel talk a long time ago.”

Bohyun's default cold expression melts into a grin. “Of course you did. Well, you make hyung happy, so I have no complaints,” he says. “And the game against Brazil was awesome. So I’m rooting for you.”

Mingyu blushes and smiles. “Thanks. It means a lot.”

Wonwoo’s dad joins them soon after - Wonwoo is passed out on the couch, easily tired after the long drive. He looks the two of them up and down.

“You’re being nice to Mingyu, right, Bohyun-ah?” He asks.

Bohyun grins. “Jun hyung and Soonyoung hyung did all the heavy lifting for me, Appa.”

Wonwoo’s dad shakes his head, smiling. “Ah, you rowdy boys.” He strolls over to the fridge. “Do you two want soju? The lightweight is passed out, so now’s the time.”

Mingyu glances at Bohyun, who is eagerly nodding. Hopefully these two can hold alcohol better than Wonwoo can. 

“Please.”

He had no idea that the day would end with him sharing a drink with Wonwoo’s dad and little brother, but he doesn’t have any complaints about it. They’re good company. A little awkward, but it’s far from the worst social situation he’s been in. 

“Does Wonwoo still not drink?” Wonwoo’s dad asks after they’ve all taken a shot. Mingyu pours him another.

“No, he thinks it’s embarrassing to be drunk,” Mingyu says. “Which I get. Because he does get a little embarrassing.”

“Hyung never changes,” Bohyun grins. “When I first drank with him, I had to bring him home because he wouldn’t stop asking strangers to watch his stream.”

Mingyu laughs. “He still does stuff like that. He tried giving me an autograph the last time we went out.”

It’s nice to talk about Wonwoo, since he is, after all, Mingyu’s favorite thing to talk about. It also helps that he can talk about Wonwoo to people who want to talk about Wonwoo, since his teammates and friends are all tired of his shit. In fact, they were done with him before the two of them even started dating. Apparently Mingyu’s obsession with Jeon Wonwoo predates most of his current friendships. 

Though that’s not anything to be surprised about, not really. 

“Ah, I’m happy you’re taking care of him,” Wonwoo’s dad smiles a little wistfully. “That boy never learned how to cook, and he lived off of takeout for so long. Does he take care of you, too?”

Mingyu looks down at his hands. Wonwoo is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, in every possible way. He’s blunt and snarky and sarcastic, but he’s also kind and snuggly and says Mingyu’s name in such a fond voice. Min. Mingyu. Mingyu-ah. No one else had ever spoken to him with such adoration before. Mingyu had grown up learning to despise his name, despise the weight that comes with it, despise himself. Wonwoo had been the one to teach him how it feels to be loved. 

Wonwoo was the one who had held out his hand and given him a shoulder to rest on after all that time Mingyu spent by himself, taking on the world alone. Wonwoo was the one who took all the ugly parts of him in his hands and still chose to love him. Wonwoo was the one who saw Mingyu for who he truly is and wasn’t afraid. Mingyu had never known what that was like, to be something that wasn’t scary. And yet, Wonwoo had shown him. Still does. The only exception in a life of never’s. 

Wonwoo’s love is the greatest gift his life has given him. 

“He takes care of me,” Mingyu says earnestly. Maybe a little too earnestly. “He’s the best thing to happen to me.”

Bohyun pretends to gag, and Wonwoo’s dad laughs. No judgement on their faces, nothing but love in their hearts.

“Well, you’re a good influence on him. I’ve never seen him look so smitten with any of his past boyfriends.” Wonwoo’s dad says. “He smiles a lot when he’s with you.”

(It’d be a lie to say that that doesn’t make Mingyu a little smug.)

They drink as it gets darker and darker outside. They talk about Wonwoo, mostly, because they seem to catch on to the fact that Mingyu doesn’t really like talking about himself. Though he tells them about volleyball, the V-League, contracts and sponsorships. Makes sure to flex his paycheck, just so they know he can provide, which mostly seems to amuse them more than anything else. 

Eventually Bohyun leaves to head up to bed, and Wonwoo’s dad puts their drinks away.

“Mingyu-ah,” he calls. “Thank you for taking care of our Wonwoo. He seems really happy lately.”

Mingyu, a little tipsy, bows. “It’s an honor, sir,” he says. “All I want to do is make him happy.”

It’s the truth, the very thing that Mingyu’s life kind of revolves around. Wonwoo and his happiness. Wonwoo and his health. Wonwoo and his smile. Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo.

“Aigoo, you’re a good one,” Wonwoo’s dad says, reaching up to ruffle Mingyu’s hair. “And call me abeoji. You’re a part of the family now, okay?”

It’s the first time he has ever heard abeoji without the emphasis on the superiority lying underneath. He thinks about his father. I am not your appa, I am your abeoji. My word is law. You will obey me. 

Mingyu’s eyes go a little watery. What a strange thing it is, to be so well loved after being alone for so long.

“Okay,” he says. “Thank you, abeoji. I will.”

(17)

Mingyu is always upset by how pretty Wonwoo is, and today is no exception.

Even in Mingyu’s small phone screen, he looks beautiful when he laughs. Mingyu’s at the gym and he’s watching a VOD he missed last week. Wonwoo is berating chat (as always), and Mingyu is smitten.

“What will I do if I lose my ARAMs?” Wonwoo asks chat. “Hmm. Maybe I’ll be nice and do a little QNA.”

Mingyu, obviously, is excited by the prospect. Even though he texts Wonwoo back and forth every single day, he’s always eager to know more. He still doesn’t know Wonwoo’s favorite color, or how he likes his coffee. Or his taste in men, and if Kim Mingyu could potentially fit into said taste. Is Wonwoo even gay?

There’s still a lot left to learn!

Text him when your reps are done, his greedy, greedy brain suggests. Ask him questions and think about how cute he is the whole time.

That’s his main motivation as Mingyu speeds through his chest reps. However, Wonwoo (predictably) wins all his ARAMs, so there’s no QNA. Mingyu is just as disappointed as chat was. 

So on his water break, he opens up their messages and types:

@min9yu_k: whats your favorite color??

Okay, that’s random, he admits. But it’s a burning question.

@gam3rbo1: blue??

Mmm. Nice.

@min9yu_k: ok awesome

@gam3rbo1: ????

@min9yu_k: hehe

@min9yu_k: dont worry abt it

@gam3rbo1: you are so strange at times

@min9yu_k: im collecting research

@min9yu_k: ^_^

@gam3rbo1: ok WEIRDO….

@gam3rbo1: whats your fav color?

@min9yu_k: red!!!!

@gam3rbo1: i shouldve seen that coming

Wow. Wonwoo hyung is so cute. They text back and forth for a while, before Bumzu catches him slacking off and assigns him another set of reps. Oops. 

“Slacker!” Bumzu smacks a towel at the back of his head. “I don’t care how pretty he is, you need to work on your chest!”

Mingyu gives him the best puppy dog eyes he can muster, and Bumzu only smacks him again. And wow, okay, he regrets that move.

“Ow, okay! Fine!” Mingyu yelps. “Have mercy!”

“Pull that shit on me again and I’m making you take out your Airpods,” Bumzu threatens. He gets a little menacing, at times, and Mingyu isn’t exactly trying to face his wrath. Bumzu takes the personal trainer shit seriously.

Mingyu bows, polite. “Yes, ahjussi. Never again.”

“Yah, ahjussi?” Bumzu says, incredulous, and Mingyu dodges the towel this time around. He laughs as Bumzu aims again, but is cut off by Seungcheol’s “Hyung! Hannie needs a spot!” from the other side of the gym.

Bumzu levels him with a glare. “Behave.”

Mingyu salutes. “Yessir.”

Bumzu grumbles as he marches off to reprimand Jeonghan for lifting without a spotter, and Mingyu is once again left alone to giggle at his phone as he texts the prettiest man in the entire world.  

@min9yu_k: do u wanna call when im done practice?

@gam3rbo1: yeah im bored

@min9yu_k: hi bored im mingyu :D

@gam3rbo1: ughhhhh youre gross

@gam3rbo1: i take it back. if you call me i am NOT answering

@min9yu_k: hyung T__T

@min9yu_k: pls??? T_____T

@gam3rbo1: ………

@min9yu_k: PLEASEEEEE?????

@gam3rbo1: ugh

@gam3rbo1: fine

@min9yu_k: yippee!!!!

@gam3rbo1: you are SO LAME

Mingyu smiles to himself and goes back to his rep sets. Call him an idiot, or a loser, or whatever, he doesn’t care. One day he’s going to kiss Jeon Wonwoo on the lips - he’s sure of it.

(24)

Life without Wonwoo, after their fight, feels so stilted. Mingyu didn’t know how much his life was soaked in Wonwoo’s presence before, but he can feel it now that they’re apart.

Wonwoo is streaming again. Mingyu doesn’t watch any of them after the first one. It’s not his place, nor his business; not anymore. Wonwoo doesn’t talk to him and Mingyu doesn’t reach out either, and this is their new normal now. Radio silence - only aware of each other in their peripheral. 

The parasocial part of Mingyu is enraged that Wonwoo is fine without him, while the rational part of him knows better. He didn’t really mean anything to Wonwoo, so of course he’s fine. They only knew each other for a few months, anyways. Surely Wonwoo has much better people in his life. 

That doesn’t mean it stings any less.

Practice is brutal, as they get closer to the Olympics, and Mingyu leans into it. He stops hanging out with anyone, except for the few times he sees Seungkwan. That’s because they get the rare opportunity to talk about Wonwoo, which only makes him feel even more pathetic over this whole thing. Seungkwan pities him, he knows, which doesn’t help in the slightest.

(Everyone else is too biased on the matter. All of his other friends just want Mingyu to be free of his feelings and get over the asshole streamer who broke his heart. Whereas Seungkwan holds no biases towards either of them and is just focused on the drama of it all, first and foremost.)

“You look dead inside,” Chan very politely comments as they get drinks. Chan is basically Wonwoo’s mini-me, so Mingyu doesn’t get why Chan tolerates him. Especially after everything that went down. But he’ll take what he can get, at this point. 

“I am dead inside,” Mingyu agrees. 

“It’s because of hyung, isn’t it?” Seungkwan asks in a flat voice. Mingyu makes a face.

He never brings Wonwoo up first - that’s his one rule. He lets the others broach the topic first, because somehow it feels less pathetic that way.

“No comment,” he mutters, taking a swig of his drink.

Seungkwan and Chan look at each other and shrug - not that Mingyu really cares. He’s aware that his feelings are crystal-fucking-clear.

“He’s not doing well,” Seungkwan offers, knowing that that’s what Mingyu wants to hear, at least subconsciously. Mingyu has always been worried about Wonwoo and probably always will be, because Wonwoo is terrible at taking care of himself (and anything that doesn’t concern his dog). “He looks like shit. All his viewers think that he’s depressed.”

Mingyu grunts. An acknowledgement. He would probably be one of those viewers if he was on Twitter or Twitch, but he hasn’t touched either one in the past month except for when he’s contractually obligated to post something. 

“He is depressed,” Chan says. “Or something equally bad. We made him bibimmyeon and he didn’t even complain that it was too salty.”

“Bibimmyeon,” Mingyu sighs, exasperated. A little incredulous. “Nothing with nutrients? He needs veggies and protein.”

The two of them give him unimpressed stares.

“Well - erm,” Mingyu backtracks. “You know. As does anyone, that is. Everyone needs veggies and protein.”

“Uh-huh,” Seungkwan says, sounding unconvinced.

“Oh boy,” Chan smiles. “You’ve got it bad.”

Mingyu says nothing in response, just gulps down his soju. It’s too late for any of this to be embarrassing anymore - not after they fought at Mingyu’s fucking birthday party, of all places - but he’s still uncomfortable with being so blatantly obvious about his feelings. Especially since Chan and Seungkwan are both Wonwoo’s friends, first and foremost.

Not that they act like it. As far as Mingyu can tell, they leave most of Wonwoo’s post-breakup care to Soonyoung and Jun. Which stings, a little bit, because Mingyu can still remember the way Jun stared him down that night, like Mingyu was the one who was doing something horribly wrong.

Well, hey, maybe he fucking did. Mingyu doesn’t care about the schematics of it all anymore, nor does he have the energy to. It is what it is, at this point. 

“Do you have any games coming up?” Seungkwan eyes the way Mingyu reaches his shot glass out to be refilled. “I thought athletes weren’t supposed to drink so much.”

Mingyu shrugs and downs it anyway. It’s not like Chan and Seungkwan, of all fucking people who consume alcohol, are the patron saints of moderation. They are far from it. 

Even so, the two of them start reenacting a recent encounter with Wonwoo. Most likely for Mingyu’s sake, more than anything else, because most people can see his anxiety over this whole thing from a mile away. Or the restlessness, or whatever it is. Apparently Wonwoo spends all of his time playing League and ignoring everyone’s texts - which is a little funny, because it’s not like Mingyu would know. Which is why they’re telling him, which is even funnier!

It’s not his place anymore, remember? He’s just a fan?

Wow, maybe he’s drunk. Everything is funny and it all hurts. Badly. It hurts badly. Mingyu decides that he doesn’t really give a shit about his practice game on Monday and drinks his soju straight from the bottle.

Coach’s voice in his head reprimands him with some not-so-nice words, but Mingyu isn’t really worried about that. He’s the ace of the team, anyways, so it doesn’t matter. Maybe he should be a little more concerned, since being Korea’s ace is really the only thing he has left going for him, but sometimes you get to a point in the night where soju tastes like juice and it just goes down so easily.  

Yeah. Fuck all of the volleyball shit. Drinking is more fun.

So it’s not his fault that he gets absolutely trashed, not exactly. He just drinks every time Wonwoo’s face pops up in his head, which is constantly. And Seungkwan and Chan are horrible drinking buddies, since they never seem to stop refilling Mingyu’s glass, but he’s not complaining.

Wonwoo’s face distorts into something horrific in his mind, and Mingyu almost prefers it this way. It makes the distance easier to swallow.

“Wow, you’re fucked up,” Chan giggles at Mingyu, and Mingyu smiles all crookedly. If any of them were responsible adults, a sober person would be with them, but all three of them are trashed instead. 

“I am,” Mingyu agrees. “So fucked up.”

“Cheollie hyung wants a picture!” Seungkwan cuts in, phone camera out, which sounds a little incorrect to the last coherent part of Mingyu’s brain, but he quickly gets over the notion. He poses with them, heads leaning in and peace signs up. “Cheese!”

Mingyu’s smile gets all dopey. Maybe Seungcheol hyung is bored of conditioning and wants to join in on the fun.

Things quickly devolve from there. All three of them are sloppy drunks - further proof that this is an unhealthy combination of people, they’re all enablers - and between talking about Wonwoo’s cute face and cute butt and cute everything, Mingyu kind of loses track of space and time and his life. 

His phone eventually rings with a call from Seungcheol. 

“Hyung!” Mingyu yells into his phone. “Hyung, hi!”

“Oh my god,” Seungcheol says, sounding very unimpressed. “You’re drunk aren’t you.”

“Yeah!” Mingyu agrees. He ignores the fact that Chan and Seungkwan have started a fist fight with each other, they’ll probably get that resolved eventually. “Wanna come hang?”

“Where are you?” Seungcheol asks. “Seokmin said Itaewon?”

“Um,” Mingyu says, and looks around. “It’s the place we went to when Hannie broke up with his college boyfriend and we all got trashed. Y’know, the place with the nice ahjumma who shows us pictures of her dogs.”

“Of course,” Seungcheol sighs. “Stay there, don’t move. I’m gonna pick you up.”

Mingyu blinks down at his phone as the call hangs up. Seungcheol hyung is coming? Here? They need to order more drinks!

Time blurs together. They take shot after shot and the world is spinning and Mingyu has forgotten that he’s an Olympian and not some college kid out with his buddies. He thinks about the curve of Wonwoo’s nose and the quirk of his lips and the way he smiles. God, his smile is so pretty.

Everything about him is pretty. He takes another shot. 

Seungcheol, of all people, comes to pick him up. If Mingyu was the least bit sober, he’d realize that that’s bad news, because Seungcheol’s going to complain the whole next day about Mingyu drinking so heavily when they have practice games on this week’s schedule. And his nagging is intolerable, basically ahjussi level. 

However, Mingyu is drunk. So he just giggles and reaches up to pat Seungcheol on the head. 

“Mingyu,” Seungcheol sighs.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says. “Everything is spinning.”

Seungcheol hoists him up with an arm under a shoulder, with little fanfare, and drags him off. Mingyu waves goodbye to Seungkwan and Chan (who laugh at him, because they’re awful). Seungcheol lugs him back to his and Jeonghan’s apartment.

Mingyu reeks of alcohol and barbeque as he flops down onto the couch and groans. “I miss him,” he whines at nobody in particular.

Seungcheol smooths his hair back and pats his cheek. “I know,” he says. ”You need to stop doing this.”

Mingyu is well aware that he’s digging himself into a hole, but it’s just so hard when Jeon Wonwoo plagues his daydreams and nightmares. Mingyu plays back the moment when Wonwoo said “You’re just a fan, right?” back in his head over and over again. He still sees it in slow motion, the final blow to their relationship.

Not that there’s anything he can do about it, anymore. It’s already over.

“I don’t know if I can,” Mingyu tells him. “I love him.”

Seungcheol sighs, force feeds him water, and goes to bed.

Left alone, Mingyu curls up under a spare blanket that’s too small to cover his whole body and sobs into the quiet of the living room. He’s sobering up, very, very slowly, in a pretty god-awful way. In the way that makes him remember that Wonwoo hyung is never coming back to him again. They’ll never hook their ankles or pinkies together again. All that’s left between them is the chasm of space, impossible to cross.

Somewhere out there, Wonwoo is living his life, Mingyu-free and happy about it. He’s out there and he’s unaffected by the complete grief Mingyu feels, and he never even cared in the first place.

Mingyu goes to sleep crying and wakes up the next day to sunlight in his eyes and his head pounding with a hangover. He stares at his phone, sees no new messages from the person he wants to see the most, and groans.

Fuck. What is he even doing anymore? Fuck.  

(12)

Kim Mingyu meets Jeon Wonwoo on an innocuous night in February, and it turns his whole world upside down. Permanently.

Though, to be fair, the night starts off innocent enough.

The bar is a good idea, Seokmin insists early in the evening, which is why they go. And their teammates just so happen to be there. What a crazy coincidence! Fresh off the finals win and a little too big for his britches, Mingyu tags along all innocently with his friends (who would surely never betray him by staging a meet cute with his long time crush at a karaoke bar, no sir), not a single worry in the world. Only thinking about what cover of Kim Bum Soo he should do to knock Seokmin down a peg.

However. He probably should’ve known something was up when Hoshi from Twitch walks into their private room and greets his teammates like they know each other. 

Mingyu isn’t even drunk (not yet), but it’s disorienting to see a new group of people walk in, a group of people whom he has definitely seen on his phone screen. People whose streams he’s watched. Who rein over his Youtube home page. Who are all connected to the one specific person Mingyu has been vaguely obsessed with since he was nineteen years old.

And holy shit, yeah. GAM3RBO1 is standing in the throng of Twitch streamers and influencers and he’s real, and he is in the same room as Mingyu, and huh. Mingyu is not drunk enough for this. 

That’s GAM3RBO1 - who is just as pretty as he is at 3 AM on Twitch dot tv, who has legs that are miles long and messy hair and aggressively dark eye bags, who just has something about him that is ethereal. Kind of achingly beautiful in a nerdy, loser-ish way, and fuck! Mingyu has a thing for nerdy losers!

So, naturally, as if some kind of slightly-horny-but-mostly-parasocial demon possesses him, Mingyu stands up and bows. “It’s an honor to meet you, Gamer Boi-ssi.”

The room goes dead silent at his proclamation, which is the first sign that he’s not doing great at this whole meeting-your-crush thing, and then GAM3RBO1’s friends start laughing, which is the second sign. And Mingyu should probably be embarrassed, really, but who has time to be embarrassed when Wonwoo from Twitch is looking right at you with shock written all over his face? 

Which is… hopefully not a bad thing?

“Uhh,” GAM3RBO1 says. “Just Wonwoo is fine.”

Mingy can’t help his smile, because he’s a freak.

“Wonwoo-ssi, then,” he insists. Seungcheol sighs, loudly, to his left, and Jeonghan snickers. Mingyu ignores them, of course, because they’re all awful people.

“I would prefer just Wonwoo, actually.” GAM3RBO1 - erm, Wonwoo, says.

“Call us hyung!” Hoshi adds. “We’re all 96ers, besides Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Oh, okay,” Mingyu nods and sits down. It feels awkward to keep standing, after all. “I'm 97.”

“We know,” Dino says. “We stalked your profile.”

Oh. Oh. Wonwoo’s friends, these super cool streamers, know all about him? Him, Kim Mingyu? This is, perhaps, when the embarrassment finally starts to dawn on him. Because he knows the things that are in his player profile - the fact that he likes to cook and that he was the president of his middle school’s sewing club.

Not exactly the most stellar of his achievements, but the social media noonas insisted that it would make seem more humble, more endearing.

His ears burn. 

“It's nice to meet you all, again,” Seungcheol says again. He sounds a little… well. Not particularly calm and collected. “We’ve heard about you a lot, Wonwoo, from Mingyu.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo says, voice trailing off. 

“Not that much!” Seokmin adds quickly. “Mingyu is normal, hyung, I promise.”

Oh my god. 

Yeah. The embarrassment has hit him for real, now.

This is because Mingyu knows for a fact that there is not a single good wingman amongst his friends. They’re all awful at it for various reasons. Even Jeonghan’s uncanny ability to passively manipulate the pure and innocent has yet to get them out of any embarrassing situations, let alone ones that involve meeting the stranger that you kind of seriously have a crush on.

Seokmin gives him a look that says don’t worry, I’ve got your back, and Mingyu mouths in return: you suck.  

Two of Wonwoo’s friends burst into laughter and even Hoshi looks a little lost. Mingyu wants to dig a hole for himself and die in it. 

“How embarrassing was I on a scale from 1 to 10?” Mingyu leans over and stage-whispers to Minghao.

Minghao smiles back. “You were absolutely shameless.”

Reality starts to set in as Jeonghan says, “How about you guys come sit down?” So this is not a passing thing but the beginning of a fucking hang out. One in which he has totally, completely, fucking bombed. In front of the guy he’s been sort-of in love with since he was 19 years old, no less. 

Wonwoo sits down next to Mingyu, and Mingyu tries not to look at the way their thighs are nearly touching.

“Order some drinks,” Seungcheol offers, passing the menu over to the newcomers. Chan takes it from him, smiling. Mingyu takes a sip of his soju and stares up at the ceiling, waiting for the ground to swallow him up whole.

Okay, to be fair, it’s not like anyone prepared Mingyu for this. Maybe they could have warned him, at least. You know the guy you’ve been watching since high school? You’re gonna get to meet him tonight. And you’re gonna be really bad, too. Just a head’s up.

Like, it wouldn’t kill them to be good people. 

Mingyu is only paying half-attention when they go around and make introductions. Each streamer and each volleyball player (and also Minghao) introduces themselves and their real names. When it gets to Wonwoo, it gets a little awkward. 

“I’m Jeon Wonwoo,” he says.

Mingyu’s ears burn red as Jeonghan smiles. “We know.”

“We put on your streams when we’re at the gym,” Seokmin says in that obnoxious-casual tone of his, because he thinks he’s being super smooth when he absolutely is not. It doesn’t help that Mingyu knows that they will all absolutely hold all of this over his head for the rest of his goddamn life. “It’s Mingyu’s idea, mostly, but we’re all into it,” he adds, and Mingyu wants to strangle his fucking roommate.

“Oh,” Wonwoo says, not sounding impressed in the slightest. “Cool.”

Mingyu’s face is red and he looks down at his hands, which have a vice-tight grip on his shot glass. Mingyu can feel several pairs of eyes on him, and he tries to will away the sheer embarrassment of it all, to no avail.

The damage is done. His life is ruined. 

Conversation fades into the background, and it distantly occurs to him that they’re talking about volleyball, which, thank god. Volleyball! They can talk about volleyball! That’s one of Mingyu’s favorite things in the world, right after GAM3RBO1 streams.

“How have you developed your serve?” Seungkwan asks Jeonghan, excited. As far as Mingyu knows, Seungkwan is the only volleyball fan out of the group of them - he regularly retweets Mingyu’s clips, so Mingyu followed him back on Twitter a few months ago. 

“Just years of practice,” Jeonghan smiles. “But to be honest, I think it’s fucked up my wrist a little. Sometimes it’s at a funny angle.”

As if to show him, Jeonghan lets his wrist go limp, and it twists a little weirdly. Somehow, Seungkwan looks impressed.

“I played as a setter in high school,” he explains. “You’re so much cooler than all the other setters in the league.”

Jeonghan laughs. “Aw, thanks.”

Mingyu stops paying attention there, because his brain becomes fixated on the warmth of Wonwoo’s body by his side. Their thighs are inches apart, nearly touching, and Mingyu swallows thickly. They’re so close.

“Talk to him,” Minghao leans over and hisses. Because he always has a second sense for these kinds of things - Mingyu’s crushes, that is. Mingyu gives him a look.  

“Absolutely not,” he reasons. “I will die.” His phone dings, and Mingyu looks down at his phone as a text arrives. 

From: coups: apologize to him for being a freak

From: coups: you look so awkward

Mingyu’s face goes red, yet again. The last thing he needs is his father figure trying to play wingman. 

From: hannie hyung: YAH KIM MINGYU

From: hannie hyung: MAKE A MOVE

From: hannie hyung: WE DIDN’T RAISE YOU TO BE A COWARD

When Jeonghan gets involved, there is the threat of action. If you don’t do something, I will. Mingyu meets his eyes from across the table and they’re shining with pure fucking mischief.

So Mingyu sighs, resigned. He has no choice then. Which is the only reason why he ignores his ears burning red and vaguely leans the tiniest bit in Wonwoo’s direction. 

“Uh, sorry for earlier,” he says, and Wonwoo turns towards him, looking a little startled.

“I didn’t mean to be so lame. I’m just a really big fan.”

Wonwoo avoids looking at him in the eyes, and nods. “Um, no, it’s fine.” Then, he adds, “You’re not lame.”

Mingyu laughs a little, which helps ease the tension. Wonwoo is bad at lying - it’s obvious that he’s just trying to be nice. “It’s okay if I am. Jeonghan says it’s bad for my hot guy image.”

Wonwoo smiles, and finally meets his eyes. God, he’s pretty. He looks so cute in glasses, and Mingyu prays he never decides to get lasik or something. Those eyes magnified by big frames do something to his heart.

“Well, it’s okay to be a little lame,” Wonwoo smiles. “Despite what you think, I am just a Twitch streamer, so I know what it’s like to be lame.”

Mingyu smiles back. Oh, this is nice. Talking like normal people. They’re similar in height, but Wonwoo has this horrible posture which makes him seem shorter. Mingyu wants to squish his cheeks.

“Well, thanks for letting me be a little embarrassing,” Mingyu says. “I’ve been a fan since 2016, when you joined T1, so I kind of feel like I’m meeting my childhood hero.”

Wonwoo blinks, looking confused. He freezes. 

“That long?” Wonwoo sounds shocked. “I didn’t think I had any fans when I joined T1. You might be the only one, honestly.”

Mingyu doesn’t get why that’s so crazy to believe. Wonwoo had plenty of fans back when he joined T1, and Mingyu was just one of many.

“There’s no way. When you were in T1, I thought you were cooler than Faker.”

Wonwoo’s eyes go wide and he sputters on a sip of his drink. “You’re lying!”

Mingyu laughs. Wonwoo is so cute, in the way his face is a little pink and he’s looking at Mingyu like he just said something insane. “I’m not,” Mingyu insists, a little sheepish. “Everyone talked about how handsome you were on Twitter, but I was just talking about how you were the coolest mid-laner in League.”

Which, yes, is true, but it’s not like Mingyu wasn’t also one of the fans who thought Wonwoo was the most handsome member of the team. Back when he was in high school, he’d get into fights with people on Twitter about it, too. But Wonwoo was also the coolest mid-laner in League! And still is!

(And Mingyu will tell him that, too, if it’ll make Wonwoo blush again. He’ll do anything to make him blush again.)

“So, you’re an OG,” Seungkwan cuts in, coming out of nowhere. He’s hovering over Wonwoo’s shoulder to lean in. He eyes Mingyu up and down in a blatantly judgemental way, which makes Mingyu blink back at him, a little confused.

They’re literally Twitter mutuals. What is this energy, exactly?

“Yeah, I guess,” Mingyu says, suddenly a little shy from the additional attention on him.

Seungkwan huffs. “What Valorant act did he first peak ascendant?” 

“What is wrong with you?” Wonwoo asks at the same time Mingyu says, “episode 3, act 1.” Which, honestly, was easy peasy. He could answer that in his sleep. Seungkwan and Wonwoo both look at him, shocked.

“You know that?” Wonwoo says, sounding a little faint.

Mingyu shrugs. “It’s common knowledge.” Because it is.  

Any casual GAM3RBO1 fan would know that, let alone someone like Mingyu, who has been secretly knee-deep in his fandom since 2016. Wonwoo stares at him and Mingyu grins.

“Ooh, common knowledge he says,” Seungkwan sounds overjoyed. “Channie? Are you hearing this?”

“Loud and clear, Kwannie,” Chan responds. He looks at them from over Wonwoo’s other shoulder, sipping on soju and looking delighted.

“You’re drunk already?” Wonwoo asks, exasperated.

“Tipsy, ” Chan and Seungkwan both correct him at the same time. They glare at each other. It makes Mingyu laugh - these guys are funny.

“Are you drinking, hyung?” Mingyu asks Wonwoo. Wonwoo blinks and looks a little startled.

“Just water,” Wonwoo says, looking at the ground. Mingyu can’t tell if it’s because he’s shy or because Mingyu did something wrong. “I don’t, uh, feel like drinking tonight.”

“He’s embarrassed,” Seungkwan, who is still hovering here, for some reason, offers. 

Wonwoo glares at him. “You. Quit that.”

“Scary,” Chan says pointedly over Wonwoo’s other shoulder. “Where’d my sweet Wonwoo hyung go? I thought we were your favorites? Have we been replaced by-”

Wonwoo puts a hand over Chan’s mouth and leans in to say something to him. Mingyu has no idea what they’re saying, but Chan salutes when Wonwoo pulls away.

Um. What the fuck was that?

“Is everything okay?” Mingyu asks as Wonwoo lets go of Chan. A little concerned, a little confused. Mostly confused.

“These two -” Wonwoo motions over his shoulder “- are just pains in my ass. Don’t mind them.”

Mingyu doesn’t know why, but it makes him smile. Wonwoo seems so at ease around him now, and his friends are funny, and this is all just so fucking surreal. If 19 year old Mingyu could see him now, he would probably shit his pants while Jungkook points and laughs.

(Jungkook, who is going to go absolutely insane when he hears about this. Mingyu doesn’t know if he’s excited or scared to break the news to him.)

They talk for a long while, and Mingyu is absolutely over the fucking moon. Wonwoo is sarcastic and funny and smiles at him in this cute, shy way. The conversation flows so easily between them, and Mingyu nearly forgets that this is their first time ever meeting. It feels like they’ve been talking to each other for years.

Mingyu even tells him that he likes it when he plays League the best, and then is completely thrown off guard when Wonwoo compliments his volleyball playing. It’s shocking, because he nearly forgot that Wonwoo was at the finals game last week. He watched him play.

Mingyu hoped that he looked cool, at least. He hopes that Wonwoo doesn’t think he looked stupid.

“I didn’t even know that you were at the game until I saw a fan post you on Twitter,” Mingyu tells him “Minghao asked for tickets, and he said it was for some friends. He didn’t say it was for you.”

(If he had known it was for Jeon Wonwoo of all people, he would have personally delivered them himself. Or posted more thirst traps in his Bluefangs uniform.)

“I was kind of peer pressured into going, so don’t worry,” Wonwoo assures him. “And besides, you played really well. I was very impressed.”

Impressed? Wonwoo was impressed with him? Mingyu isn’t unfamiliar with compliments, not at all, but it’s much different hearing it from Wonwoo. He feels simultaneously embarrassed, simultaneously thankful that he chose volleyball over his parents all those years ago.

If not, he wouldn’t be here, face to face with Jeon Wonwoo. Who is - as far as Mingyu is concerned - a god amongst men. 

Mingyu perks up. “Really? You were?”

“Aren’t you on the Olympic team?” Wonwoo laughs. 

Mingyu pouts, because he can’t help it. “Well, it’s different to hear it from you,” he reasons. Still, he can’t help his smile. “Thanks.”

Wonwoo looks at him, and smiles back. Mingyu is whipped.  

It’d be a lie to say that Mingyu isn’t still a little nervous as the night and their conversation continues on. He fulfills his normal duty of refilling Wonwoo’s water and making sure that everyone else in the room isn't too drunk. He orders food for everyone and slips the waiter his credit card. 

He likes Wonwoo a lot. He likes that Wonwoo laughs at his jokes and jokes back with him. He likes that Wonwoo doesn’t mind when Mingyu accidentally spills his drink (not once, but twice). Even when Wonwoo gets dragged away from him, roped into another conversation, Mingyu can’t stop fucking looking at him. 

This… celebrity crush… it’s quickly rocketing into becoming a real crush. 

Fuck.

Mingyu has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom, at one point, just to give himself a breather. He pisses and then calls Jungkook, hands shaking a little.

“‘Lo?” Jungkook says when he picks up.

“Kook,” Mingyu whispers into the receiver. “I met Gamer Boi.”

Jungkook says nothing for a long moment, and Mingyu doesn’t either. “Um,” Jungkook says. “What?”

“I met Wonwoo - Gamer Boi,” Mingyu repeats. “The streamer I’m in love with.”

“Huh?” Jungkook says, and then adds: “Wait, actually? Holy shit.”

“I’m being so serious,” Mingyu hisses. “Ignore whatever Hao says. I need you to know that this is the happiest day of my life, and I’m a little tipsy right now.”

“Did you tell him that you’ve been in love with him since you were 19?” Jungkook asks, teasing. “Or that you hung his jersey up in your college dorm?”

“I hate you,” Mingyu grumbles. “You suck.”

“So Cheol hyung’s party was to meet him?” Jungkook sounds overjoyed. “Please take pictures, or something. I need proof. Get his number, or something.”

Oh. That never occurred to him, to get Wonwoo’s number.

“You have a point…” Mingyu’s voice trails off. “Fuck.”

“Go get it now!” Jungkook chides him. “The night is ending! Go get your man!”

That’s never what Mingyu wants to hear from Jeon Jungkook, out of everyone else in his life, but he gets the idea. “Okay,” Mingyu says. “I will.”

“Call me tomorrow,” Jungkook says. “No, wait, I’ll come over. I wanna hear all about this.”

Mentally, Mingyu sighs. He can’t imagine anything worse. “Fine,” he says.

“Go get him!” Jungkook cheers, and then hangs up.

Mingyu rolls his eyes and finally exits the bathroom. While Jungkook is annoying, he’s well meaning. And besides, he isn’t wrong - Mingyu needs to man up and get Wonwoo’s number or his KakaoTalk if he ever wants to see him again.

When he gets back to the karaoke room, everyone's a little disheveled. Jihoon has Chan on one shoulder and Jun is holding Soonyoung up by the arm. Wonwoo is basically forcing water down Seungkwan’s throat. 

“Everything okay?” Mingyu asks, a little concerned. 

“We’re gonna go,” Wonwoo sounds apologetic, putting his coat on. “Sorry. I’m worried that if they drink any more, they’ll end up committing crimes.”

“Crimes?” Seokmin asks, excited, because he’s easily impressionable. Seungcheol nods knowingly and holds him back.

“It was nice meeting you guys,” Wonwoo offers, with a little bow. Oh, cute. “It was fun.”

“Let’s meet again sometime,” Jeonghan smiles, waving.

“Yeah, let’s hangout,” Seungcheol grins.

With that, Jun herds Soonyoung through the door and Jihoon follows with Chan. Wonwoo drags Seungkwan and something compels Mingyu to reach out and grab his elbow.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says. He tries not to look nervous, because he feels fucking restless. “It was nice to meet you. Let’s hangout again, okay?”

Wonwoo’s face is pink and he’s just a little bit shorter and Mingyu loves it. “Okay. Sounds good.”

Mingyu’s smile grows and his hand squeezes Wonwoo’s elbow before letting go entirely.

They leave through the door, and then they’re gone. Mingyu’s hand feels like it’s on fire - he didn’t even touch Wonwoo’s skin, but he could feel the warmth anyways. Mingyu goes red and Seungcheol whistles to get his attention.

“How was that, lover boy?” He asks. “Was it everything you hoped and dreamed?”

Mingyu grins, smiling wide. “Yes. Hyung, I owe you my life.”

The others laugh. That’s when Mingyu realizes that he forgot to get Wonwoo’s number.

Shit.

(25)

Kim Mingyu is actively losing his mind. 

First of all, it’s a Wednesday when he gets the text from Wonwoo. 

@gam3rbo1: can we talk?

It throws him completely off guard, and he replies to it before he can even think twice. 

@min9yu_k: okay

Alright. Not his best work. He’s probably coming off as too eager, which isn’t great considering he was supposed to spend the last two months getting over Wonwoo. Which he didn’t do. Get over him, that is.

But Wonwoo wanted to talk, and Mingyu wanted to listen. So they set a time for Saturday, Wonwoo’s place, and Mingyu is now in his car on the 30 minute drive to Wonwoo’s apartment. This morning he threw himself into his gym regimine, desperate to empty out his brain through the only way he knows how: exercise.

But now. Now, his brain is a chaotic mess. He never expected this, because as far as he was aware, Wonwoo was the one who ended things between them - whatever they were. Mingyu has steeled himself into accepting the distance and trying to move on (and failing to, but that’s not the point), because he figured that he and Wonwoo would never speak again.

Wonwoo is the streamer and Mingyu is the fan, and that was supposed to be the end of it.

And the thing… the cruel thing is that Wonwoo reached out first, and something awful like hope bloomed in Mingyu’s chest. He dreamed about holding Wonwoo’s hands again last night - slotting their palms together and tangling their fingers and being so, so close to each other. It was mean and he’s more restless than he is nervous, at this point. 

What’s the worst that can happen, after all? Especially now?

Mingyu sighs and pulls up to Wonwoo’s building, parks in Wonwoo’s designated parking spot, and knocks his forehead against the steering wheel.

Fuck. Okay, what matters is that he doesn’t start begging for Wonwoo to take him back, at least. All he needs to do is listen and then leave. Even if it hurts.

Sounds simple enough. Right?

The security guard ahjussi waves him in, and Mingyu heads up to Wonwoo’s floor. He shares the elevator with a mom and her kid, and attempts to smile at them. The mom blushes and the kid grins. At least he doesn’t look like a wreck - at least, not yet.

Mingyu gets off at the appropriate floor, reaches Wonwoo’s door, and buzzes the intercom. After a few moments, he says tentatively: “Hyung? It’s me.”

Mingyu’s voice cracks a little on the end, and he swallows thickly. There’s a beat of silence before the door swings open, and Kim Mingyu is suddenly face to face with Jeon Wonwoo for the first time in two long, terrible months.

And, well. 

Wonwoo is beautiful, of course. He always is. 

His hair has gotten long, and it hangs in his eyes. He still has dark circles though his frame is skinnier than it was two months ago, hanging from his impossibly wide shoulders, but at least he’s alive. And hopefully doing well. Mingyu has to bite back a comment on how he looks cute in his tracksuit. When their eyes meet, something in Wonwoo’s expression softens.

“Mingyu,” he says, a little breathless.

Oh, yeah. The affection and fondness rushes back to him in an instant - Mingyu still loves him. A lot. That look in his eyes stirs something warm, deep in his guts.

Mingyu bites the inside of his cheek to keep from doing something stupid, like reaching out and brushing Wonwoo’s bangs out of his eyes. He puts his hands deep in his pockets and looks away from the stare Wonwoo is directing at him. “Hey.”

They don’t say anything after that, at least not really. Mingyu kicks off his sneakers and lines them neatly next to Wonwoo’s shoes, and then follows Wonwoo to the kitchen counter. Wonwoo pulls out two stools for them at the island, and it’s hard for Mingyu to act like a stranger in this apartment, not when it’s so achingly familiar to him. He avoids looking at the stove, remembering how he’s cooked there so many times. Always eager to feed, eager to please.

God, he feels pathetic.

Mingyu sits down and is careful to keep the distance between them as Wonwoo scoots in. They sit as far apart as socially acceptable, without it being too obvious. But they both are obviously aware of it - the distance, that is. It’s hard not to, not after all this time.

Mingyu looks at Wonwoo expectantly, and tries not to let his face convey all the worry within him.

Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “So.”

Mingyu nods. “So…”

“I,” Wonwoo says, and then pauses. Mingyu is reminded of that night in his bedroom, when Wonwoo could never seem to find any words besides the ones that hurt the most. He sits and waits for Wonwoo to say more. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Mingyu doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. He freezes and his shoulders go all tense and he doesn’t know what to make of this, exactly.

“...You’re sorry,” Mingyu repeats very slowly. And because he’s confused: “For what?”

Wonwoo blinks, staring for a moment, before he says, “For everything. I was an asshole, and I’m sorry.”

Oh. Okay. Mingyu doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know what to think about this, even. He stares at Wonwoo for a little while, almost hoping that he’ll elaborate. He never does.

Well. He’s sorry, huh? It’s a little twisted of him to apologize after everything, like it was Wonwoo’s fault, when Mingyu was the one who ruined everything - who loved him too much, too deeply, too obviously, when he should’ve just been a good fan and stayed out of Wonwoo’s direct line of sight.

Mingyu leans away, uncomfortable, before he even realizes. He smiles apologetically, a little pathetically. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, hyung. I was the one who misunderstood our relationship.”

At those words, Wonwoo’s expression twists into something completely foreign - something angry, almost. At the night of the party, he just looked so sad and defeated and scared. But now… now, he looks upset.  

“Don’t say that,” Wonwoo says. “Don’t do that. You know that I was the one who fucked up everything. Don’t be nice.”

Mingyu smiles, and his hands clench into fists. Here’s another misunderstanding between them, one that cuts them apart even two months later. “You didn’t.”

Wonwoo looks at him, then, really looks at him hard, like he’ll figure something out if he studies Mingyu closely. Maybe he sees something in Mingyu - the terror? The panic? The love? - because he looks at him like he can see right through him. Mingyu wants to run.

You can see Wonwoo visibly steeling himself. “I fucked up, really. I lied to you that night,” he says, almost like he’s come to a decision. It comes a little suddenly, with force behind it, his voice a little louder than usual. “You didn’t deserve any of it. It’s my fault.”

It takes a minute for him to process that completely, but Mingyu’s smile fades once he does. His brain sticks onto the word “lie.” A part of him wonders if this is another one of Wonwoo’s cruelties, or if he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it to begin with.

“...What?” Mingyu asks. He’s a little terrified of the answer.

Wonwoo twists his hands together. His body untenses, and he’s back into the Wonwoo that Mingyu knows - hesitant, a little meek at times when he has to speak his mind. Wonwoo’s voice is low and unsure when he says: “You were never just a fan to me. I was being cruel to you because I was upset at how much you mean to me. It wasn’t fair.” He looks Mingyu in the eyes. “Mingyu, I’m sorry.”

For a moment, there’s nothing. 

It’s been two months since their fight, and Mingyu has been hurting the whole time - he’s been in pain his whole life, honestly, but these past two months were something else entirely. He doesn’t know how to feel about anything, about all of this - an apology? He guesses that he wanted that. Wonwoo cares? Well, he wanted that too.

But now that he’s heard it… he doesn’t know.

He feels betrayed, mostly, but he’s also just exhausted.

There’s two months of tears. Two months of questioning every interaction they ever had. Two months of I wasn’t good enough, I should’ve known my place, how would he ever want someone like me- Two months of Mingyu; his ire towards himself; his calloused hands; wondering if there was any worth in continuing to spike that ball anymore if Wonwoo wasn’t there to watch.

So there’s the anger, but then it bleeds out of him so quickly. It’s like he was never angry at all, and then Mingyu is just so, so sad.

Because Mingyu loves him, and the love itself was never in question. Mingyu loves him and Wonwoo must know, he must, because Mingyu has never been particularly good at lying. Honest to a fault. I can just see it right on your face, Seokmin had said once, and Mingyu had laughed it off back then, but he isn’t laughing anymore. He loves him and it makes him so sad, because Wonwoo had lied, but that doesn’t mean Mingyu could possibly love him any less. 

And. Well. He has always been a crybaby, so it shouldn’t come as a shock that he starts crying now - not even out of his own volition - but the tears still come without warning. A few tears drip down before Mingyu realizes it, and then he lets out a shuttering sob, and now he’s fully fucking crying in front of the only person he’s never wanted to cry in front of.

“You-” Mingyu says through tears, voice shaking. His head doesn’t know what to focus on, not anymore. “You lied.”

Wonwoo nods. Mingyu barely catches it through his tears. “I did.”

I did, he says so simply. Though Mingyu supposes that it was always that simple. Oh, Wonwoo hyung has always been capable of cruelty, but this is something that hurts even more. 

“I spent the past two months,” Mingyu says, “thinking that I meant nothing to you.”

It’s not what he means, not entirely, but it says enough. Thinking that you hated the fact that I loved you, would be more apt, but Mingyu doesn’t know if he’s brave enough to even approach that thought right now. Let alone put it into words, especially to Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo’s voice shakes, like this hurts him all just as much, “I’m sorry. You meant everything to me.”

Oh, yeah. There’s the cruelty again. It’s everything that Mingyu has ever wanted to hear, and it feels like a knife twisting in his gut. He laughs, unable to stop himself. “Everything, huh. That’s funny.”

It’s funny, it is. Because what are they now, even? What remains of the relationship they had before Wonwoo went and ended it? Nothing, really, as far as Mingyu’s aware. But Wonwoo is saying all of this like there could be something between them, again, at one point in the future.

There’s no way. No fucking way.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says slowly. “I was terrible to you. I thought that you deserved better than me. I know that that doesn’t make up for anything, but I’m sorry. I…” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not very good at being good to you. Or anyone.”

Mingyu smiles. He wipes tears and looks Wonwoo in the eyes and says, “That’s not true.” Mostly because he always hates it when Wonwoo is mean to himself. Despite everything.

“No, I was really bad to you,” Wonwoo says. “I was. I’m not asking you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I’ve always cared about you. I was just scared.”

I’ve always cared about you, he says, like that’s a given. Except it isn’t, because Mingyu hadn’t known that. He hadn’t known anything, not since that night at his party two months ago, and Mingyu’s hands start shaking because this is all so much, too much at once, what’s even the truth anymore?

But it’s all laid out in front of him, free for him to inspect. Wonwoo cares, of course he fucking does. He’s not a good liar either - something that Mingyu has always inherently known, since Wonwoo turns red so easily - but lying and dishonesty aren’t exactly the same thing. He lied, but his feelings were never dishonest. And maybe Mingyu should’ve known that. 

Obviously. It feels so obvious now, and the past two months of hurt and thinking I meant nothing to him sit heavy on Mingyu’s shoulders.

There’s the fear. Mingyu can see it so plainly, now, see the way that it’s consumed both of them. Can see it written all over Wonwoo’s face, all while knowing how deep it sits in his own bone marrow. There’s the fear and it’s something he knows better than anything - especially after his parents, his childhood, the ever-growing pressure that he can still feel so viscerally on bad days - and the fact that Wonwoo was ever even scared feels like being dunked in one of Bumzu’s ice baths. 

He hadn’t known that. He hadn’t known anything. It’s not just curiosity, but yearning, that burns through him. 

“Scared,” Mingyu echoes. “What was there to be scared about?”

A loaded question, like Mingyu’s loaded a pistol and is aiming it right between Wonwoo’s eyebrows. He thinks about Wonwoo’s expression that night in April. He looked terrified every time Mingyu came close. There is an answer in there somewhere. 

Wonwoo’s eyes widen. Mingyu does not regret asking. 

“Mingyu…” Wonwoo says, and then stops.

Mingyu stares as a million emotions flicker across Wonwoo’s face. Wonwoo hyung has always been a little blunt, always straight to the point, so it’s always a little odd to watch him try and say things so carefully in these moments. Though, Mingyu supposes he should be grateful.

He’s careful towards you, a voice in his head says. Cruel, yes, but always careful. A little mean, but just as loving. And maybe that means something, after all. 

Wonwoo takes a deep breath.

“I am scared,” Wonwoo begins. “Of everything. Of you, mostly.” He puts a hand up before Mingyu can even think to interrupt him, and Mingyu just watches the way his mouth moves to shape each word: “You are the most lively person I know, Mingyu. I was scared to be consumed by you and your presence. If you were me, you’d be scared too.” 

Oh. Oh. Mingyu says nothing, not yet, and Wonwoo continues.

“I… I am not doing well. I haven’t for a really long time. But when I was with you, I felt so brave.” This is all so much, and Mingyu can’t breathe. Wonwoo wipes his eyes. “I was scared that you didn’t like me, for me. Because the me that I know is weak and fragile. But GAM3RBO1 is something strong. And you like GAM3RBO1. So I thought that if I pushed you away and just saw you as a fan, that I could protect myself.”

Wonwoo takes a breath, and then stops talking entirely. Mingyu jaw clenches, and then unclenches, and he chooses his next words very carefully.

“So…” Mingyu says, a little slowly. “You wanted to protect yourself.” Because protection is something he understands. Especially after growing up the way he did. It’s something that he could never fault Wonwoo for. 

“You don’t understand just how selfish I am, Mingyu,” Wonwoo tells him. “I wanted you, but I also wanted to be safe. I didn’t realize that I could have both until I went back to therapy. It’s my fault.”

It’s sort of funny. How selfishness pops up again, even here. Wonwoo; selfish more than anything else. Mingyu; terrified by the desire to ever want anything for himself, even deep inside his own body. It’s even funnier that Mingyu wouldn’t have ever blamed Wonwoo if he was only just being selfish. Because deep down, Mingyu wishes he could do the same. 

And it’s not a full explanation, not entirely. Not even when it’s clear that neither of them ever learned how to be brave. 

An explanation where there’s a lot of things that Wonwoo doesn’t say, and Mingyu isn’t sure if he’s brave enough to read in between the lines - because even the confidence he feels on the court has been so deeply fabricated through years of conditioning, let alone the confidence he feels while confronting the love of his life after two months of oppressive silence between them. Wonwoo is saying a lot of things that make it sound like he loves him, really, but Mingyu knows that that isn’t true. Care doesn’t mean love, not exactly, but something about the way he says it makes Mingyu nearly choke on the hope that rises within him. 

I wanted you, Wonwoo said. It’s my fault.

The tears are threatening to spill again.

Mingyu, hands shaking, runs a hand through his hair. He looks Wonwoo up and down, and then looks around the room. There’s something about this all that he isn’t quite getting, not entirely. He’s missing something crucial to this conversation, and the big question mark between them lays on him heavily.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says. Voice tired, unsure, timid. Still so fucking terrified. “Why am I here right now?”

It’s not the entirety of what he wants to say - needs to say - but Mingyu can’t voice that all. Not to Wonwoo, not now. What do you want from me? He doesn’t say that. Mingyu is trembling, all the way down to his bones, in the moment it takes for Wonwoo to answer him.

“I told you that I’m selfish,” Wonwoo says, tone even and sure for the first time during this entire conversation, like this is the easiest thing in the world. “I’ll take whatever you give me. I just couldn’t let it end like that. I’m sorry.”

Whatever you can give me. Mingyu can’t say that he wants to give Wonwoo everything, right? Even after all of this, it’s not really his place anymore.

Mingyu says nothing for a long moment, eyes cast down to the ground. He exhales. “You want closure,” he says slowly. He tries to make it make sense in his head.

Wonwoo exhales, too. “Well. I guess.”

That’s not a real answer, not from someone like Wonwoo. There’s something that he’s hiding, even now, and Mingyu sits there for a long, long time, looking at the ground. He follows the kitchen tile grout lines with his eyes until they lose focus entirely.

Wonwoo wants closure, huh? After all this time?

Well, Mingyu fucking loves him. There is no future where he gives this all up, and then that’s the end. Not like that.

His head is a mess and the through line is that he’s scared of where this conversation is heading. They’re edging close, way too close, to Mingyu’s burning desire to keep Wonwoo near and dear to his heart. They’re toeing the line of something beyond what it means to be friends. What’s too far past the line? What’s safe? Mingyu doesn’t know. He doesn’t.

“I don’t think I can give you that,” is what he says, and there’s trepidation in every single word. Mingyu is shaking like a leaf in the wind because Wonwoo is looking at him so intently, and their conversation is heading towards a place Mingyu swore he’d never show Wonwoo. Not even in his dreams.

Wonwoo visibly swallows. “What do you mean?”

The terror builds up in Mingyu’s system all at once, like it was just waiting on the backburner to consume him this whole time. He looks at Wonwoo in the eyes and the tears start watering up again. There is something uniquely horrifying about this whole conversation.

I am going to have my heart broken again, Mingyu realizes suddenly. It’s getting hard to breathe. He’s going to leave me again.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo offers, impossibly gentle. “It’s okay-”

It’s not okay. It’s not okay because Wonwoo was the only thing Mingyu had ever thought to be selfish about in years and years, and the burning desire that has made its home in his guts makes him nearly choke. It’s not okay because here is everything Mingyu has ever needed, right in front of him, close enough to touch. Wonwoo is here and he’s something tangible and Mingyu can’t- he doesn’t- he shouldn’t-

“Hyung, you don’t get it. I can’t give you closure,” Mingyu says. Voice shaking but steadier than he thought. The desire and the love eats away at his composure until he’s crumbling. “I…I can’t just move on.” 

Mingyu can hardly breathe, but this is the closest Wonwoo has been to him in two months, and he’s right there. He’s just a few feet away and Mingyu nearly reaches out between them. It’d be so easy. So fucking easy. 

Mingyu sniffles, close to tears. He’s about to get his heart broken, again - again - and he doesn’t know if he can handle it this time. It might just break him completely. “Hyung,” he says, voice watery. “I can’t. I know you hurt me, but I can’t just let you go.”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says again. “I-”

“I thought it was my fault that I wanted too much,” Mingyu says. He always says too much, too often, especially when he’s nervous, but now it feels like he needs to keep talking or else he’ll die. Wonwoo is looking at him closely, and Mingyu never wants him to leave again. Mingyu has never wanted anything so badly in his life. “I know I’m a lot to love, really. I thought it would be too much for you to handle.”

The admittance comes out like it’s a sin. He thinks about his parents and their glares at his back and the way the ahjummas at the supermarket ruffled his hair, cooing about his grades, and- and the desire. The desire is eating him alive, and Mingyu has never felt weaker than he does right now. 

Because he has wants; because he wants Wonwoo; because Wonwoo is all he wants; because he promised himself to never be selfish again-

In the time it takes for him to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth falls open, agape. 

“YOU?!” He says, incredulous. “Too much?!”

He doesn’t know why. That why, of all times, he smiles. Mingyu smiles and his eyes are watery and something deep, deep inside of him is threatening to spill out, so much so that he almost feels sick. 

Oh, he wishes that this could all just be over already. Wonwoo should just break his heart now, so he can get over it sooner. As a cop out: “Well. My feelings for you are kind of ugly.”

It’s the partial truth, again, because Mingyu doesn’t know how to be selfish, even now. He doesn’t know how to make the desire into something beautiful or palpable. Not when it’s something so ugly and deeply visceral and consuming. Because it’s true - Mingyu’s feelings are ugly and shameful and the reason he is left behind over and over and over again. 

That’s the part that hurts. The fact that it’s true. It’s fucking true. Mingyu wants Wonwoo to himself. He wants to kiss him and hug him and live with him and marry him - one day, whether he’s out to the public or not - and they’ll have a big house with a big yard for Seollie. He’s dreamt about a foreign destination wedding, somewhere it’s legal, where they can be free. He wants Wonwoo to give all of himself to Mingyu, because Mingyu has already given all of himself to Wonwoo.

There’s nothing left of him that doesn’t belong to Wonwoo already.

Selfishness and the ways in which it has turned him into nothing more than his own twisted desires. Mingyu clenches his fists and avoids his eyes. 

“Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo says. “Nothing about you is ugly.”

Mingyu laughs, and it doesn’t sound like his laugh. His heart clenches in his chest and it fucking hurts. “Hyung, you don’t understand,” he says. “It’s not just sunshine and rainbows. I want you so much that I could die - that’s what it feels like.” Because Mingyu has never wanted anyone more, has never wanted anything besides Wonwoo and volleyball, has thrown away his life to let the love he has in his entire body eat him alive. “I want you to myself. It’s not normal, it’s ugly. The things that I feel for you aren’t kind.” 

It’s there. As much as Mingyu knows how to split his guts open and bare them for Wonwoo to see. All the shame and guilt, shame and guilt, shameandguilt - running together until he’s barely even human anymore. 

Wonwoo stares at him, face red. 

“You…” He stutters. “You.”

Mingyu heart leaps to his throat, and he keeps fucking talking. Because he’s alight with desire and something else that he can’t refer to as anything other than love. Because this is the only way he knows how to feel. 

“When you’re live in front of millions of people, I want you to only stream for me,” he says. “When you do photoshoots, I want the photos to myself. Don’t you see? My feelings are ugly, hyung. I’m too much for you.”

That’s not even everything - not everything he wants to say, not everything he feels. But Wonwoo’s face is red and Mingyu shrinks into himself, embarrassed. There’s no hiding anything now. Not anymore.

“Holy shit,” Wonwoo whispers.

Mingyu closes his eyes and tries not to cry. The selfishness and guilt is crawling up his insides and he desperately bats it back down, to where it can’t reach him anymore. Wonwoo knows his weaknesses now, his burning thoughts. Everything that makes him into a horrible person, everything Wonwoo can use against him.

Don’t be selfish, don’t be selfish, Mingyu tells himself. He’s going to break your heart again. Just smile and then leave.

Just take it, let him go, let everyone go, so there’s nothing in your hands but desire and a volleyball. Let him meet someone better, someone more whole, someone who has a loving family and the will to say “I love you.” Let him be happy. Let him be happy.  

Let him be happy. Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut and breathes through an almost-sob. Because he’s given all of himself - everything that he knows - to Wonwoo. And this is where he breaks his heart all over again. 

Don’t be selfish.

He hears the shuffling of Wonwoo’s feet on the kitchen tile, and then Wonwoo sighs. Both of them are breathing heavily. Mingyu clenches his fists.

A moment passes, and then two, and then: “...I feel the same way,” Wonwoo whispers to him. “My feelings for you are ugly too.”

Mingyu’s eyes snap open. He looks at Wonwoo.

There’s nothing. Nothing that he feels, not in particular. Because words have never caused him anything except for pain - deep, incredible, excruciating pain. All the evil in his blood and ire in his heart. 

But then there’s Wonwoo, whose expressions never lie, looking at him so openly. His eyes are gentle and the slope of his mouth is gently curving upwards. He’s shaking, just as much as Mingyu is, and Mingyu’s guts twist into an uncomfortable shape.

My feelings for you are ugly too, except that can’t be true, because Mingyu has seen the way he looks at Wonwoo in candid photos, and he knows that not even desire encapsulates all of it. Everything within him. All of the nasty, ugly thoughts in his brain. The ache in his hands. 

Mingyu swallows thickly, still afraid. “No they’re not,” he says. And as one last measure to protect his heart: “Hyung. Be serious.”

“They are,” Wonwoo insists. He insists, and Wonwoo never ever really insists on anything, except for playing IU in the car and that soju is the root of all evil. Wonwoo, who is usually opinion-less, who sticks to himself, who makes faces when other people are too loud and demanding- he is insisting on something. “I was panicking so much because you’re this tall and hot athlete and I’m a fucking Twitch streamer, Mingyu. You’re out of my league. I don’t have pretty feelings about you.”

Mingyu… Mingyu doesn’t know what to say. Because while he knows a thing or two about warped perceptions, that’s pretty fucking twisted. Wonwoo is GAM3RBO1 - pretty and funny and loved by everyone. He’s everything Mingyu has ever wanted since he was 19 years old. The source of all of his wet dreams in college. The archetype for all the guys he was ever into. He’s the most special person in the world.

Mingyu is… well. He’s got a pretty hefty chip on his shoulder from his parents, and the only thing going for him is his bank account and the swing of his left arm and that’s about it. Wonwoo is gorgeous and incredible and- and he’s everything- and-

“…So you’re jealous…?” Mingyu asks. Because he’s just more confused than anything else, now. 

There’s a moment of nothing, but then Wonwoo’s eyes go wide, bugging out at him, and he stands up a little in his chair.

His hands are shaking - both of theirs are - and he takes a stuttering breath. 

“I’m literally in love with you!” Wonwoo says, and those words. Those words…. Mingyu just stares at him. “I have been for months… so don’t act like it’s one-sided,” Wonwoo looks away. “Because it’s not.”

Silence stretches between them.

Mingyu’s brain has gone blessedly silent. He doesn’t know if he hallucinated the past thirty seconds or not, but Wonwoo is looking at him expectantly, and that’s when Mingyu realizes that he actually, truly, said all of that.

Wonwoo… Wonwoo said… he loves…

“You…” Mingyu says eventually. “You… love. Me.”

Blood roars in his ears. He can feel his heartbeat everywhere, how fast it is, how hard it’s pounding, like his blood is rushing everywhere as one last desperate act to save Mingyu from himself. Blood singing desire and love and want, and Wonwoo loves- loves him-

Wonwoo covers his face and nods. “Yes. It’s so obvious, you’re the only one who didn’t know.”

Oh. Oh no. This is a dream, now. Or Wonwoo’s been replaced by an imposter. Mingyu can feel the desire in his veins, in his shaking palms, in the need to love, touch, be closer and closer. This can’t be real. It can’t, not after everything. Not after all the pain. 

He makes a sputtering noise. “You’re lying.”

Wonwoo groans. “I’m not. I’ve been in love with you since the karaoke bar. I always thought you were handsome. I watched compilations of you on Youtube, for like a month.” He shrinks down into himself, and curls into a ball. “Don’t make me say any more.”

The karaoke bar? The fucking karaoke bar?! Back when Mingyu embarrassed himself, Wonwoo laughed at all his lame jokes, and he spilled soju over both of their laps? When Mingyu called him Gamer Boi-ssi and Wonwoo looked at him like he was insane? 

That can’t be true. No fucking way. There’s no way that the most embarrassing moments of Kim Mingyu’s life made Jeon fucking Wonwoo, in all his beautiful glory, fall for him. 

Neither of them say anything for a very long time. Mingyu stares at Wonwoo, like it’ll somehow tell him the truth.

Mingyu doesn’t- he doesn’t know what to think. Because Wonwoo’s ears are pink and he almost looks embarrassed, and he lied, once upon a time, but is he lying right now? 

I’m literally in love with you, Wonwoo had said like he meant it. He looked like he meant it, and his face has always been the most honest part about him. Mingyu thinks about the lie, from two months ago, and how Wonwoo’s expression was hard and unfamiliar when he said it. But now… now, he looks certain, if not a little desperate.

It’s the truth, and the truth is something so fucking beautiful, it’s everything Mingyu could ever want in his entire life. The love and the love and the love, between both of them, equal in measure. 

Wonwoo… is telling the truth. He - he loves Mingyu. 

“You love me,” Mingyu asks again.

Wonwoo looks away and nods.

And, oh. Wonwoo’s blushing and that’s the face he makes when he’s shy. Mingyu made Wonwoo shy because they love each other. The hope within Mingyu explodes into something else entirely, into something lovely and completely foreign. Something Mingyu has never felt before. Into something so big and vast and perfect that he can barely contain it, barely stop himself from sobbing with relief, barely able to do anything at all but stare at Wonwoo’s gorgeous face and let himself see the love in his expression for the very first time.

Terror and love all mixed together. Something Mingyu knows very well.  

“You were scared… because you love me?” Mingyu is more certain, this time. Wonwoo nods again. 

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

Wonwoo sits there and crawls up into himself, shy. He’s waiting for Mingyu to make the first move. He’s patient, and beautiful, and holy shit! Mingyu fucking loves him.

The past two months have been agony, something absolutely horrible, but sitting in front of him is the man who loves him, and Mingyu forgets about all of that. Mingyu forgets about everything, everything that doesn’t have something to do with the way Wonwoo shyly looks down at his feet, knees drawn up to his chest, his glasses nearly slipping off of his face.

He’s everything. He’s everything and Mingyu is an idiot and he loves him more than anything else in this world. He’s selfish for it, frighteningly so, but Wonwoo loves it. Loves him. Loves all of the ugliness and pain and fear and-

“Hyung,” Mingyu reverently, and Wonwoo looks back at him with wide eyes. Something softens, something deep within him, and Mingyu can’t help his smile.

This is hard, it is, but he can’t help his own happiness. His eyes are watery and he holds out a hand to Wonwoo, who takes it. 

They’re holding hands - touching for the first time in two months.

“We love each other,” Mingyu says, awe in his voice.

Something in his chest slots into place and they’re touching again. Again. Again, again, again, they’re together again, and Wonwoo is looking at him like he loves him.

“We do,” Wonwoo whispers.

Mingyu smiles and scoots his stool closer and closer until their knees are touching. One hand is holding Wonwoo’s and the other is fidgeting on the side of his chair, aching to touch more. To touch everywhere, to hold his jaw and kiss him. Fuck.

“You’ll take what you can get from me?” He asks.

Wonwoo nods. “Whatever you’ll give me.”

Mingyu laughs. “Hyung,” he says, and oh, this is everything he’s ever needed in his life. “What if I want you?”

Wonwoo… Wonwoo takes a second where he looks unsure. But then he smiles, and the tenseness in his shoulders melts at once. They’re smiling at each other, for the first time in so long, and he tugs on Mingyu’s hand.

“Come here,” he says a little roughly. “I want a hug.”

Mingyu goes. Nothing could’ve stopped him from stepping into Wonwoo’s personal space and holding him tight. They’ve never touched like this before, so openly, with all the fondness and affection so apparent, and Mingyu exhales shakily.

The boy who loves him is holding him close, and Mingyu feels the fight in him from the last two months die out.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says, a little whiny without meaning to. Wonwoo burrows his head into Mingyu’s chest. He’s warm, they both are, and Mingyu wants to fucking kiss him. 

“I missed you,” Wonwoo admits, voice low. 

Mingyu cards his hand through Wonwoo’s hair and smiles. “Me too,” he says.

This is the loveliest moment of his whole entire life. Mingyu starts swaying them back and forth and he’s just so fucking happy. Wonwoo in his arms, the two of them wrapped up together . This is all he can ever ask for, and now he has it.

Wonwoo is close. It feels good to be close. Wonwoo clings onto Mingyu, and Mingyu lets himself have this.

Every touch shared between them up until now is nothing compared to this, the way they cling onto each other. The previous brushes of Mingyu’s fingers against Wonwoo’s waist, or circling his wrist, or arm slung across his shoulder, is almost nothing in comparison. Mingyu burns with the feeling of Wonwoo’s arms around him.

They’re hugging. They love each other.

Mingyu takes a deep inhale of Wonwoo’s hair and Wonwoo melts into his chest, so subtly but definitely, and everything feels like it’s slotting into place all at once. So this is what it’s like, huh? This is how they’re meant to be?

It comes out before Mingyu can think to say anything otherwise. Not that he regrets it.

“Hyung?” Mingyu says quietly. “Will you go out with me?”

Okay, the way he asks may be a little cringe worthy (none of his friends are allowed to know about this for as long as he lives or else they’ll tease him to death), but he’s always been kind of hopeless when it comes to these kinds of things to begin with. His past girlfriends and boyfriends were always concerned more about his strength or his money than his charisma, anyway. 

Thankfully, Wonwoo pulls away from him, just a little bit, and smiles. “Yes.” Then adds: “But only if you give me a week to answer.”

And, okay. What?

A week, he says, and it takes Mingyu a moment to process the fact that Wonwoo didn’t say yes. Not entirely. And after all of that?!

“You want a week,” Mingyu says slowly. Voice uncertain. Panic rises up in his throat, slowly but surely.

Wonwoo nods. “I’m sorry.”

There’s hesitancy in Mingyu to ask for an explanation because he’s scared of the answer. 

His feelings have been laid bare, the ones he’s been struggling for months - if not years - to conceal. He’s vulnerable, and it hits him at this moment that Wonwoo has all the power over him. Over their future. 

Mingyu tenses.

Even so, Wonwoo stands up and steps a little closer and leans into his side. “Just to process stuff, I swear. I want to talk to my therapist. It’s a big change, and I want to be able to handle it.”

Oh. Oh. Okay.

That's… that’s good? Right? That makes sense…?

Mingyu blinks. “Okay. But you won’t…” He hesitates. “You won’t run away again, right?”

He doesn’t like coming off as weak, or insecure, but love is a thing that makes him both weak and insecure anyway. To his relief, Wonwoo digs his head into Mingyu’s shoulder and nods. 

“No more running away. I’m just gonna be right here. I just need some time.”

Time. Just time. Okay. Mingyu can do time. He’s a patient guy.

It’s been 8 years. What’s a week more?

Slowly, Mingyu starts to understand. He lifts his arms up and brings them around Wonwoo’s shoulders. He squeezes Wonwoo tight, once, and then lets out a sigh. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry about wooing me, I’m wooed,” Wonwoo tells him. “I just need to get my shit together so I can be good for you.”

Mingyu loves him so much, this silly boy who says he’s wooed. Who, despite his claims, has always been good and always fucking will be.

Mingyu nods. “You’re always good for me, but okay. Fine.”

Wonwoo smiles up at him and squeezes Mingyu’s waist. Fuck, he’s pretty. Mingyu can never be upset at that face, not when he looks at him like that.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo says. “Wait for me, and I’ll meet you there.”

Mingyu squeezes him back. “I will.” 

(6)

If Kim Mingyu has one secret, it’s the fact that he has to listen to GAM3RBO1 in order to fall asleep. 

Okay, to make a few things clear: he isn’t proud about it. In fact, it’s probably the most embarrassing thing about him. Jungkook bullies him to death, and Mingyu very secretly plays the streams through his earbuds as he falls asleep in his college dorm - his roommate is kind of weird, so he’s not willing to take any chances and expose himself.

It doesn’t help that he’s been watching GAM3RBO1 for over a year now, and still finds him just as handsome as ever and his voice just as alluring as he did back in high school.

But alas. It is what it is. 

Because it’s not like it’s not, like, his own fault. He was the one who became obsessed with this random guy online and now harbors said obsession like it’s his greatest weakness. CUniversity-aged Mingyu is a jock, by all intentions, who spends his free time at group functions or the gym. If he got caught watching Twitch streams, his teammates would never let him live it down, and his current in-the-talking-stage sort-of-boyfriend would probably accuse him of being a virgin.

Which he is. But that’s not the point!

Mingyu studies for his biology exam as GAM3RBO1 plays in his headphones. He’s playing League because of course he is, and Faker is there, too. Mingyu still doesn’t get the hype around Faker. Sure, maybe he’s one of the best players in the world, but it’s not like he’s GAM3RBO1 - who is handsome and smart and low-key sexy when he smirks. Mingyu has the libido of a young, healthy boy, and it really doesn’t help that GAM3RBO1, of all people, is one of the few things that really gets him going.

No one - and he means no one - is allowed to know about that. Not even Jungkook. 

(Although he probably has figured that out by now.)

“Jaewan and Junsik went out and got us tteokbokki,” GAM3RBO1 says to the camera. He’s munching on the food, his cheeks full of rice cakes. Cute. 

“Jeongyun hyung paid,” Faker adds. “Because Wonwoo couldn’t eat the fish cakes. He’s allergic, or whatever weird thing it is.”

“Don’t tell them that!” GAM3RBO1 scolds, cheeks pink. 

Oh, he doesn’t like fish cakes? That’s so cute. Mingyu looks at his phone and sighs, a tad bit more dreamily than he would like to admit. 

“So secretive,” Faker says. “Chat, how do you put up with him?”

Mingyu wants to join in the clamor of chat, who jump to defend GAM3RBO1. He ends up obliging, typing he’s cute in chat and sending it off without a second thought. 

“He’s cute, he’s hot, he’s better than Wolf at support,’ ouch,” Faker reads chat. “Jaewan’s gonna cry when he hears that.”

“I'M GONNA WHAT?” A voice yells from the background. 

“Someone said you’re handsome!” GAM3RBO1 yells back. Mingyu smiles.

This is awful for studying, because he can’t get over the way GAM3RBO1 grins at the camera as Faker and Wolf start yelling out at each other in the background of the stream. 

“Alright, boys, calm down,” GAM3RBO1 chides. “C’mon, let’s queue, Jeongyun hyung wants us to practice.”

It’s kind of embarrassing how even after all this time, Mingyu knows next to nothing about League, because it’d be a lie to say that he doesn’t spend most of the stream staring at GAM3RBO1’s facecam. Though he’s sure that the gameplay is riveting, he wouldn’t know.

He has to force himself to lock back in on his work as GAM3RBO1 and Faker start playing again.

It takes a few hours where he’s vaguely distracted by the stream, but Mingyu finishes up his flashcards for his upcoming exam without any major issues. Luckily, GAM3RBO1 plays late into the night, so he’s still live as Mingyu gets ready for bed and lays down. 

He’s careful to lay his phone face-down so his roommate doesn’t see it by chance. Not that he holds his reputation over being a GAM3RBO1 fan, but maybe he just needs to readjust his priorities. Jungkook probably calls him obsessed for a reason. 

Goodnight, Gamer Boi, Mingyu sends into the chat before he falls asleep. It might get lost into the sea of chats, it might not. He doesn’t care.

He’s asleep before he hears the reply: “oh, hi chatter. Goodnight to you too.”

Chapter Text

(11)

The beginning of what Mingyu would later describe as his descent into madness - the end of the part of his life in which he didn’t spend his days being delusional and obsessively pining over his favorite Twitch streamer - starts on a night that, for all intents and purposes, is a good one. They’re at their celebration dinner for winning the 2024 V-League final championship.

Seokmin is, of course, the one to lean over the table and tell him. Mostly because his ability to read the room isn’t the greatest.

“Gyu, have you seen Twitter?”

It’s a fairly innocuous question. Nonconsequential in the grand scheme of things. They’re all coming down from the high of one of the greatest victories of their careers and Mingyu hasn’t so much looked at his phone since getting a congratulations message from Jungkook, who couldn’t make it in person but never misses a game anyhow. He had been quickly roped into group shenanigans, dinner plans, and a few player challenge TikToks for their team social media accounts. No time to check Twitter.

So Mingyu blinks at him. “Uh. No?”

And Seokmin doesn’t say anything in return, just slides his phone over to Mingyu for him to take a look. On the screen, there’s a tweet.

Jae @jae_NATION

WOW BLUEFANGS WON!!!! Also I met @gam3rbo1 there <3

[img attached: picture of a fan dressed in Bluefangs blue and orange smiling widely next to GAM3RBO1, who looks a bit off kilter. His face is red and his glasses are askew, but he’s smiling and holding up a peace sign.]

For a second, Mingyu isn’t quite sure what he’s looking at. Because on the screen is GAM3RBO1. And in the background are the familiar stands of Gyeyang Gymnasium. And standing next to GAM3RBO1 is a guy wearing a Bluefangs jersey, the same shade of blue and orange that adorns Mingyu’s own uniform.

And yet.

“Great, you broke him,” Seungcheol says.

Mingyu stares. Looks up at Seokmin, who is grinning with a self-assured smile. Then to Jeonghan, who is looking at him with a little bit of pity, pouring Mingyu a shot. Then Seungcheol, who’s busy shoving a wrap into his mouth. And then he looks back at the phone, staring down at it, not quite believing his own eyes.

That… is GAM3RBO1. At their game today. 

GAM3RBO1. At their game. 

“Oh,” he says. “Um.”

Mingyu really wishes he could be more eloquent, but he’s a couple soju shots in and the adrenaline is still buzzing in his veins and his brain can’t really conjure up any significant thoughts other than HE SAW ME PLAY? and he’d look good in my jersey.

So.

“Why’d you show him?” Jeonghan scolds Seokmin, reaching over to give Mingyu a gentle slap on the cheek. “You should’ve waited until he was drunk.”

And that wakes Mingyu up. He gapes over at his setter, somewhat offended. “Why are you so evil?”

“Blackmail, entertainment, pleasant memories to look back on when I’m old and decrepit,” Jeonghan counts off on his fingers. “What else?”

Okay, he should’ve seen that coming. Seokmin waves his phone in Mingyu’s face, bringing him back to the topic at hand. 

“Maybe he’s your fan now,” Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows. “I bet he saw your interview and fell for you right away.”

He knows that Seokmin is joking. He does. And the comment even makes Seungcheol and Jeonghan both laugh. But to be completely honest, Mingyu would be lying if he said that the idea doesn’t make him perk up, get his hypothetical tail wagging.

With more hope in his voice than he would ever admit to: “You think so?”

“Oh, god,” Jeonghan mutters.

“Absolutely!” Seokmin says.

Seungcheol makes a face. “How about we-”

“Do you think he knows me?” Mingyu asks because he’s pathetic and also the worst. But it’s not his fault that he can still feel the high off the win, a little more optimistic than usual, if not to a mildly delusional degree due to the brief mania you experience while coming down from a big game. “Do you think he thought I played well?”

“It’d be kind of hard not to,” Jeonghan points out. “Unless he watched with his eyes closed.”

Which, okay, rude.  

But this only hypes Seokmin up further, a little more hyper than usual. “He totally did, and now he’s gonna come to you and get his jersey signed, and get your number, and then you’ll fall in love and get married and have 16 kids-”

“Alright, let’s not,” Seungcheol cuts him off. “We don’t even know the guy.”

Seokmin pouts, of course, as does Mingyu. But Seungcheol admittedly has a point. Mingyu has been watching GAM3RBO1 since he was 19, almost to an obsessive degree, but that doesn’t mean they know each other or that GAM3RBO1 even likes Mingyu as a player. As far as anyone knows, Mingyu simply has a very passionate parasocial crush on this random streamer, who just so happened to go to his game today. 

The thought is sobering. Mingyu sighs, and promptly downs a shot. 

Look, it’s not his fault that he feels a tiny smidge of hope that maybe his feelings - completely non-romantic and not creepy at all, thanks, Jungkook - could be reciprocated if GAM3RBO1 knows that he exists. After all, they’re both celebrities. In completely different fields, yes, but celebrities all the same. It’s like all of Mingyu’s daydreams in college coming true. 

Meeting GAM3RBO1 at a game. Wooing him with his brilliant personality. Going for it and maybe, just maybe, flirting with him and sticking the landing. 

(Alright so maybe his feelings aren’t exactly what most people would describe to be non-romantic and not creepy at all, but he’s allowed to have celebrity crushes and yearn about them, okay!)

Mingyu isn’t always the most sane person he knows, but he’d really rather not entertain the possibility at all. The possibility of any type of reciprocation in his feelings, let alone his and GAM3RBO1’s paths ever even crossing. And yet that doesn’t change the fact that his chest bursts with hope at the thought of GAM3RBO1 existing in the same space as him. The same building! Him and GAM3RBO1 in the same building!

And besides, GAM3RBO1 probably likes Mingyu, at least a little bit. Right? If he saw him play? Mingyu isn’t Daejeon’s ace for nothing. He knows that he’s excellent at his job and looks great while doing it. There’s a good deal of people who walk into their games without knowing a single thing about volleyball and walk back out as Kim Mingyu superfans. It doesn’t hurt to have faith that Mingyu has at least made a good first impression.

He got them the win today, after all.

“You look like you’re scheming,” Jeonghan says, leaning back into Mingyu’s space.

Mingyu ignores him. Seungcheol frowns.

“Don’t scheme,” he says, taking a bite of galbi. “You’ve been obsessed with him since high school. Never meet your heroes.”

“But it was the greatest day of my life when we met Kim Yeonkoung,” Seokmin says through a mouthful of samgyeopsal. “It was the greatest day of all of our lives.”

“Okay, well obviously Kim Yeonkoung doesn’t count,” Seungcheol concedes. “But just think about it. Famous people are the worst.”

He’s right, for the most part, but Mingyu thinks about GAM3RBO1 and wonders how that could possibly be true about his favorite streamer. Who is shy and nerdy and wears big sweaters and puts bows in his dog’s hair. Who quietly scolds chat with a small frown and disapproving voice and looks like a cat when he laughs and has a series of glowing reviews from those who have managed to meet him. Mingyu has seen GAM3RBO1 in several stages of life, from his time in T1 until now. From when he was the least popular member of the team, feilding messages in chat from people who just asked for his teammates over and over again. 

And yet GAM3RBO1 never complained. Never snapped. It’s partially why Mingyu was so drawn to him in the first place. Not his just his face, but his demeanor. Kind and calm and kind of reassuring.

But then again, Mingyu doesn’t know him personally. Doesn’t know him at all. As much as he wants to.

“Yah, Cheol, don’t make him sad,” Jeonghan coos. Pinches at Mingyu’s cheek, because he’s the worst. “I’m sure Gamer Boi is a nice guy. And if he’s ever mean to you, we’ll kill him.”

Mingyu just stuffs his face with pork belly and perilla leaves and downs it all with a swig of beer. “Thanks, hyung.”

“Just being realistic,” Seungcheol says with his hands in surrender, which is rich coming from the most delusional person Mingyu knows personally. “Don’t get your heart broken, Mingyu-yah. Especially not by a stranger.”

And despite his hangups, it’s sound advice. So Mingyu nods dutifully and turns his attention back to his meal and tries to get the image of GAM3RBO1 at Gyeyang Gymnasium out of his head. It never hurts to be realistic. Kim Mingyu doesn’t need any more things to be miserable about in his life. What he has is already enough. 

“Is it time to get drunk?” Seokmin asks, apparently ready to move on from their current conversation, simply because he’s a little less empathetic when he’s tipsy. As if he didn’t just completely upend Mingyu’s life with a single tweet. If he wasn’t one of Mingyu’s beloved best friends, he would have hit him by now - hard, and with his spiking hand.

“Yeah,” Mingyu tells him. “Let’s get drunk.”

The off-season, after all, starts now. And his feelings are nothing a bottle of soju can’t fix. 

(47)

Mingyu has been getting offers from abroad for well over a year now, but it’s Ali Roma who gets his attention after his talk with Seungcheol about coming out. 

The 2025-2026 season is wrapping up, and it’s time to renew contracts. 

Italy, after all, is nice - it’s beautiful and the people are friendly enough and he can get by with just speaking English. He wouldn’t be ostracized for being queer there, nor would sponsors back home be able to sabotage him if they do decide that they want to drop him for coming out. For whenever that hypothetically happens.

Mingyu stares at the offer email in his inbox for a long, long time. 

“Just talk to Wonu about it,” Seungcheol says, sitting down next to him on the couch of the gym’s lounge room. “I’ve never seen you look so hard at an offer before.”

It’s true. Mingyu hadn't actually considered going abroad until he was more seasoned and more established, a few years later in his career. But if he goes now, this could be his chance to come out sooner rather than much, much later. And with much less drastic consequences if he’s still only a few years into the professional scene, rather than a long-time Korean household name. 

Mingyu swallows. “I will. I just don’t think he’ll want to go abroad with me, and it’d be scary to do long distance.”

Seungcheol just shrugs, even though this is kind of a big deal and a shrug is not helpful at all, asshole. It would be too much to ask his boyfriend to uproot his entire life for him and move to Italy, although that’s exactly what Mingyu wants to do. 

(In Italy, they could even get married. That is certainly a thought.)

“I dunno,” Seungcheol says. “I think he might be more willing than you think.”

It’s hard to imagine Wonwoo - anxious and shy and quiet Wonwoo - willingly moving to a foreign country just because his boyfriend wants him to. Wonwoo hates events outside of Korea as it is. Getting him to Twitchcon is rare, Vidcon even rarer. He hates speaking English and he refuses to sit in on Mingyu’s tutoring sessions to learn.

Mingyu sighs. “I really don’t know about that.”

Even so, it’s an idea. As in, the idea is out there, floating in his mind. The offer is in his inbox and they’re willing to negotiate small details, like accommodations, which means Mingyu could hypothetically bring his boyfriend along. Maybe.

He tries to not get too attached to the idea. He really, really tries.

Mingyu attempts to shove that conversation out of his mind for the rest of the day, but most people notice his head is in a different place during practice anyways. Coach scolds him for slipping when finals is next week, Gyu! and with tensions running high, Mingyu forces it onto the backburner. For now.

It doesn’t stop him from daydreaming about a life with Wonwoo in Italy, anyhow. But that’s nobody’s business.

“Run drills with me,” Jaekyung, one of their middle blockers, drags him out of his thoughts. “We need to work on the synchronized quick.”

Mingyu nods, and shoves volleyball into the forefront of his mind, focusing as Jeonghan runs him and several others through the new timing they’ve developed. 

(But still. Italy…)

Practice wraps up, and Mingyu heads home to their shared apartment. He picks up tonkatsu for dinner and hopes that one of Wonwoo’s favorite meals will be a good buffer for their conversation tonight. 

Hopefully.

“How was practice?” Wonwoo asks when Mingyu steps through the front door. Wonwoo in the kitchen is a rare sight, especially since he’s leaning over the stove and staring at the eggs he’s cooking with a ferocity Mingyu only ever sees when Wonwoo is mad or concentrating, or sometimes horny. He figures that it’s not the latter, though.

“It was fine. What’re you up to?” Mingyu slips his shoes off and puts the food down on the counter. He strides over to Wonwoo and tugs on the bow of the pink apron he is wearing right now, for some reason. The one that Wonwoo got for him as a joke a year ago, but Mingyu still uses every time he cooks.

And not in a sexy way, either. It’s just very practical. 

 “Cooking,” Wonwoo says, like that’s an apt explanation. Mingyu grins.

“Babe, you’re staring at that egg like it killed your family.”

“This is my third attempt,” Wonwoo finally looks up and sighs. He leans into Mingyu’s side. “Min, please tell me you brought dinner. I’m starving.”

Mingyu pats him on the head. “Yes, hyung, I got tonkatsu. Let’s eat, yeah?”

The relief in Wonwoo’s eyes is obvious as he turns off the stove and takes off the stupid apron. “Thank god,” he says. “I was so close to looking up recipes.”

Mingyu laughs and starts setting the table.

They’ve been dating for nearly two years and nothing between them has changed. The whole cooking ordeal helps Mingyu relax, a bit, despite knowing what they have to talk about tonight. It helps that Wonwoo always makes him feel better without even realizing.

They eat in comfortable quiet, between Mingyu explaining the team’s newest exploits and Wonwoo catching him up on Soonyoung’s latest scheme. They’re getting together with everyone this weekend.

It’s towards the end of their dinner when Mingyu takes a deep breath and steels himself.

“So,” Mingyu starts. “I have something to talk to you about.”

Two years ago, those words would’ve sent Jeon Wonwoo into shock and fear. Now, he just looks up from his food and squints his eyes a little at Mingyu, as if trying to gauge the temperature of the room.

“Okay,” he says. “Am I supposed to be nervous?”

Mingyu hands sweat. “Um. Maybe?”

Wonwoo just gestures at him to keep talking with his chopsticks, and Mingyu tries to compose himself properly. It’s fine - it’s just Wonwoo hyung. Who loves him and cares about him and won’t leave, no matter the distance. Hopefully.

“Well, as you know, I’ve gotten a lot of offers to go abroad,” Mingyu says slowly. “And you also know that I’ve never been interested in any of them.”

He doesn’t know how else to start this, doesn’t know how else to ease them into this conversation when they’ve never talked about it before. Yeah, Mingyu was always going to go abroad eventually. But with their careers both being so fickle, at times, it’s easier to live in the moment rather than make grand plans out in the future. Not when neither of them can never know what’s going to happen.

Mingyu could suffer from a career-ending injury and never play again, at any time. Wonwoo could lose all of his followers tomorrow. They just never know. 

But then Wonwoo just raises an eyebrow. “So who do you want to play for?”

And yeah, of course he’s quick to catch on - Wonwoo can read him like a fucking book, and that has never changed in the time they’ve spent together. But it doesn’t ease his worries, not really. It makes him wonder if this was a conversation Wonwoo was one day dreading. 

Mingyu breathes. “Ali Roma. They’re in Italy.”

He’s been thinking about it seriously for weeks, the thought at the back of his mind for even longer. Today was the first time he’s admitted his interest to anyone out loud - Seungcheol first, now Wonwoo. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. Doesn’t know whether his boyfriend’s reaction will be good or bad. Is praying to god that it isn’t the latter.

Mingyu holds his breath. Mentally bracing himself for the worst.

And yet:

“Italy is nice,” is what Wonwoo chooses to say. “So, when are you going? Can I come with you?”

It’s not… it’s not what he was expecting. Not from Wonwoo, who is anxious, who is rarely so easygoing about big things. Who is rarely chill about huge changes. But then Mingyu blinks and Wonwoo’s face melts into a smile, nudging him under the table with his foot. And they…

They haven’t talked about this.