#SORRY you were probably expecting like. domesticity au HWJSFDLFDJLFSD she got away from me ...........

[wuahae]

congratulations cat my beloved !! 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

“mingyu + 2:08 am + the kitchen” for the milestone event 🩷

[2:08] / the kitchen

-

peering through the glass to check for anyone inside the apartment, you lift the window slowly, pane sliding quietly against the frame. the motion is jilted, your breath catching as a particularly harsh motion has you wincing, hand flying to your side as you try to ride through the wave of pain.

fuck. this really wasn't how you pictured your night to go.

it was supposed to be a simple job—stop the drug deal, get in, get out, go home. you'd done it hundreds of times before, everything was practiced motions from the moment you got to the scene. that was, until the backup that came later made very clear that this wasn't just a solo op, and you were in way out of your league.

it's really the only explanation you have as to how you've ended up here—on the run, bleeding out, and sneaking into mingyu's apartment through his kitchen window at two in the morning. (in retrospect, one of those was not like the other, but you'd rather go back to that drug deal and take your beating eyes closed than to hear jihoon's extremely blatant and obvious "i told you so" when he inevitably hears about this whole debacle. if it was happening sooner or later, you choose later.)

opening the window was the only thing you managed to do somewhat gracefully, because your next step weaving your leg through the window has you half-stumbling half-crashing onto the floor of his kitchen. you try to stiffle the yelp of pain that tries to shoot out of your mouth, but you only manage to quiet it down to a low grunt instead. the light flickers on in his bedroom, unsurprisingly, and you brace yourself for what's about to come next.

there's a beat, and then two, and then mingyu comes rushing out into the kitchen, the silhouette of his favorite lamp held up threateningly. "who's there!"

"hey—" you hold your hands up in surrender, the leather of the mask pressing against your cheeks more than it seemed to before. "calm down, i'm not gonna—"

"what do you want, money?" mingyu shakes the lamp in emphasis. "i don't have anything worth much in here, i just have an airfryer!"

"no, can you just—"

"you can't take my airfryer!"

"that's not what i—"

"what am i doing, i'm calling the cops—"

"mingyu!"

he stops, eyes widening. a breath. "how do you know my name?"

frustration curdles in the back of your throat. you think about strangling out some lame excuse, all of which would probably just end up with you in a worse situation than before, so you just let out a sigh, slipping off your mask. "it's me."

as soon as your unveiled eyes meet his, mingyu falters, the hand holding the lamp dropping to his side, the panic in his eyes vanishing only to be replaced with shock—shock? confusion? hurt? betrayal? it's hard to tell in the dark.

(it's months of lies and deception and blatant secrets washing over him, all at once. that's all it took for him to look at you like a stranger—one flimsy leather mask.)

you know he has so many thoughts flitting through his mind, so many questions to ask you. of course he does, how could he not? but instead of grabbing onto any of the emotions flashing in his eyes and throwing them back in your face, mingyu instead says: "you're bleeding."

ah. you'd almost forgotten about that small thing in the middle of everything else.

mingyu scans your body silently, pursing his lips and knitting his brow, before grabbing one arm and slinging it over his shoulder, leaning your body against his as you hobble your way into his bathroom—first door to your right.

you end up sat on the edge of his tub, top half of your uniform stripped off to reveal the worst of the damage on your upper body, your head a little too light and vision a little too fuzzy to be normal as mingyu takes out his supplies. (that's why you came to his apartment, right? because he was an emt? because he would know what to do?)

there's a tense silence, one briefly interspersed with the practiced motions of a needle and thread and your restrained hisses of pain as mingyu stitches your open wound back together. it's awkward and stiff and not at all what you're used to with mingyu—for the first time, his apartment seems cold, and you hate it.

"don't worry," you try, after he's finished with the sutures. mingyu reaches for the bandages, and you resist the urge to cringe at how nonchalant you sound. "i made sure no one was following me before i came here."

mingyu's lips press into an even thinner line (you didn't even know that was possible) before making a small noise of acknowledgment. anything you had planned to say after that snuffs out before the matches even gets the chance to get lit. he finishes up fixing the big, gaping wound at your side quickly after that, moving onto the smaller cuts and bruises littered throughout the rest of your body.

and after what seems like forever of the same, frozen quiet, mingyu finally asks: "who else knows?"

it catches you offguard, hearing him speak so suddenly. and then you swallow your tongue, teetering on a narrow line—how much could he know? how much could you tell him without him piecing out other secrets by himself? "jihoon," you eventually decide on. you figured at least that would be okay to tell him, right? it wasn't as if you told him any secrets that weren't already yours. "that's it."

mingyu lets out a wry laugh, short and slightly bitter, and you wonder how many new sides of mingyu you'll bear witness to tonight. he feigns disinterest, focusing on treating the cut on your cheek, but the alcohol swab dabs a little too harshly for the act to be convincing.

"you know," mingyu says distantly, peeling the plastic off the back of the bandaid. "usually you're supposed to tell your best friend about these sorts of things." you brace yourself when he places it on your cheek, but he smooths out the bandaid out with his thumb, gentler. "or could you not trust me enough?"

you whip your head to him the second he finishes placing it on your cheek, the brief touch gone in a flash. "don't do that," you bite out. "you know i couldn't tell you."

"if not that, then what else?" mingyu counters. "you seemed perfectly fine letting jihoon in on your big secret."

you really don't have the energy to explain to him the absolute mess that was jihoon finding out about your secret identity, nor could you go on to explain how at the time you really had no choice but to let jihoon join you. but that required jihoon developing a secret identity of his own, splitting his life into two, becoming so encompassed in necessary lies that everything else would become tangled in between. it happened to him, and it happened to you, and that was the last thing you'd ever want for mingyu.

"that's different."

"right."

you snap, words flying out. "if i knew you were going to react like this, then i never would have come!"

"then why did you come!"

"i—" you start, heat lying beneath the syllable, but it dies almost as soon as you speak. why did you come? reasonably speaking, you could have gotten help from jihoon, his verbal lashing be damned, or you very well could have made it back home and stitched yourself up without bleeding out completely. but you didn't—instead, you hauled yourself through mingyu's kitchen window because (your head buzzes)... because—

"i didn't know where else to go," you tell him, but that's not quite right either. you had other options, this was just the one you chose.

mingyu blinks, and you can tell he catches your lie from how he draws in a breath, quiet, only to release it tiredly. he's been catching you in too many lately, but like all the others, he doesn't press you on it. mingyu pulls away, skin brushing against yours, and you know this is it.

you're watching as your blood washes down the tub drain, remnants of the dirt and gunpowder from your uniform falling all over his tile floor, and all you really want to do is have this be over with. but you know if you do, if you let him pull away and shut him out again, mingyu would carry that festering hurt with him into everything moving forward. it would be the end of this—whatever this was.

(and really, wasn't this the point? didn't you come here because you were tired of shutting him out, of lying to him? you want your honesty to mean something, for once.)

"hold on, i—" your hand shoots out, grabbing him by the wrist in a sort of panic and desperation you didn't think you had in you. "the real reason i came was...i didn't want to be anywhere else but here. with you."

mingyu stops. he doesn't say anything else, just continues tending to your wounds. mingyu avoids your eyes, and somehow the rejection feels worse than the wound you came in with.

"thanks," you say quietly, after he's finished getting you patched up. you're back at the kitchen, pushing open the window. you couldn't leave through his front door like this—not when you were more vigilante than friend to him now. you're not even sure what to say to him anymore, the hurt wedging the distance between you. "sorry about the bathroom. if the blood stains let me know."

turning to the window, an apology threatens to creep its way up your throat, a last ditch effort to mend the gap. "and if it means anything anymore, i'm s—"

"wait," mingyu interrupts, and you freeze. he grows quiet again, grappling over his next words. "i... have you eaten yet?"

your eyes widen, turning back to him, window abandoned. "what?"

he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, shifting his gaze to the kitchen. "it's been a long night for you, i'm sure. i can make you some ramen, if you want." he hesitates, before offering. "you should stay for the night."

you must be gaping, because mingyu starts to ramble, talking about how he has a set of spare clothes if you need it—of course you need it, you're covered in dirt and oh! you probably need to shower too and he can totally sleep on the couch tonight so—

"mingyu," you gently interrupt. maybe he feels it too, the way you'll scatter away like a wounded dove if you both leave it like this. it's why the offer feels like an olive branch—a forgiveness, an apology. and so you grasp onto it gently, letting him guide you back home.

"okay," you accept quietly. mingyu's shoulders sag in relief. "i'll stay."