Ship/Member: Minghao/Mingyu Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: Post break-up Permission to remix: Please ask
***
“And did you get everything you wanted?”
Minghao snaps his focus back to the present, caught off-guard. “Yes,” he affirms automatically. “Yes, I did.”
Mingyu snorts to his champagne flute, gold band on his ring finger molten in the sunlight. “You’ve become so agreeable,” he remarks in disbelief.
Their newly wed mutual friend in the center of the venue has an arm around her husband’s side, other hand holding the knife with him to cut the cake. Minghao returns her smile when they briefly make eye contact. They’d all clamored over Mingyu in the down time between the ceremony and reception with the woes of wedding planning, and Minghao had watched as he took their overbearing advice graciously with a winning smile from the sidelines. “And you’ve become so sure of what you want,” replies Minghao in stride, “On your way to married life.”
“But have you ever–” Mingyu’s jaw sets, stubborn, as he cuts himself off. “I knew you would’ve said no if I asked.”
“But you never asked.”
“You told me to stop being desperate!” Mingyu bursts out. He lowers his voice when the group of bridesmaids turns to look at them. “What was I supposed to do, let myself keep getting hurt from all your rejection?”
“No,” Minghao admits staring straight ahead. Everyone around them starts clapping at something they hadn’t been paying attention to. Mingyu joins in absentmindedly while Minghao continues, “I don’t have everything I want.”
“What?” Mingyu applauds five beats longer than the rest of the crowd.
“But you’re still too impressionable,” Minghao elaborates. “That’s why we broke up, remember?” Just then, a waiter carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres utilizes the space between their shoulders and cleaves them in two.
***
Some time after the break up, Minghao was sitting across from Junhui at the same hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant they’d been going to for years, eating the same dishes they always ordered and pecking at the pickles the owner always piled high for them for free with their chopsticks when Junhui pointed out suddenly, “Hao Hao, you don’t realize you’ve changed?”
Minghao looked up from the work email he’d been skimming on his phone. “Why do you ask that?”
Junhui only smiled, sheepish and curling in on himself over his bowl of noodles. “Because you have.” When Minghao didn’t reply, he added, “You regret ending things with him.”
“I don’t regret cutting off a relationship before we both got irreparably hurt from it, if that’s what you mean,” was Minghao’s canned response. “And Mingyu didn’t know what he wanted. You know it's dangerous, not knowing what you want. That's how people get taken advantage of."
Junhui placed the last radish on Minghao’s plate gingerly. “You say that only because you think you have to say it.” It was even worse, knowing what you wanted but knowing it was never possible the way you dreamed it to be.
***
Mingyu calls him a week after the wedding. “I just have to understand,” he stammers as soon as Minghao picks up the line, “When you said you didn’t have everything you wanted. Did you mean – shit, this is so stupid, I just… I think I’m reading too much into this, but did you mean me?”
Minghao’s heart is beating in his throat. “Mingyu, this is–”
“Myungho,” Mingyu interjects like he’s afraid Minghao will hang up at any time, “I don’t think I’ve stopped loving you.” A dangerous hope shakes in his voice. “So if you still love me–”
When they were still together, it’d become a running joke that Mingyu was always bombarding him with a never-ending stream of questions, most of which Minghao answered to with some version of no.
“Don’t you ever get tired?” Minghao asked once, half-laughing and apologetic. Mingyu’s thumb was rubbing against the cracked skin on Minghao’s knuckles, dry from the winter. The touch was so tender it stung. “You hear ‘no’ more often than a cold call salesperson.”
“Congratulations on your engagement,” Minghao settles on, hanging up the phone right after. It buzzes with an incoming call less than ten seconds later, and again, and again, and again until it finally quiets like something on its dying breaths inevitably succumbing to the end.
Mingyu on that couch had peered up at him from where he’d been resting his head on Minghao’s shoulder. “All it takes is one yes to make it worthwhile,” he said, playing the part to a T with a full-canine smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
[FILL] i will have you know – my swan song will not be my last
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Post break-up
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
“And did you get everything you wanted?”
Minghao snaps his focus back to the present, caught off-guard. “Yes,” he affirms automatically. “Yes, I did.”
Mingyu snorts to his champagne flute, gold band on his ring finger molten in the sunlight. “You’ve become so agreeable,” he remarks in disbelief.
Their newly wed mutual friend in the center of the venue has an arm around her husband’s side, other hand holding the knife with him to cut the cake. Minghao returns her smile when they briefly make eye contact. They’d all clamored over Mingyu in the down time between the ceremony and reception with the woes of wedding planning, and Minghao had watched as he took their overbearing advice graciously with a winning smile from the sidelines. “And you’ve become so sure of what you want,” replies Minghao in stride, “On your way to married life.”
“But have you ever–” Mingyu’s jaw sets, stubborn, as he cuts himself off. “I knew you would’ve said no if I asked.”
“But you never asked.”
“You told me to stop being desperate!” Mingyu bursts out. He lowers his voice when the group of bridesmaids turns to look at them. “What was I supposed to do, let myself keep getting hurt from all your rejection?”
“No,” Minghao admits staring straight ahead. Everyone around them starts clapping at something they hadn’t been paying attention to. Mingyu joins in absentmindedly while Minghao continues, “I don’t have everything I want.”
“What?” Mingyu applauds five beats longer than the rest of the crowd.
“But you’re still too impressionable,” Minghao elaborates. “That’s why we broke up, remember?” Just then, a waiter carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres utilizes the space between their shoulders and cleaves them in two.
***
Some time after the break up, Minghao was sitting across from Junhui at the same hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant they’d been going to for years, eating the same dishes they always ordered and pecking at the pickles the owner always piled high for them for free with their chopsticks when Junhui pointed out suddenly, “Hao Hao, you don’t realize you’ve changed?”
Minghao looked up from the work email he’d been skimming on his phone. “Why do you ask that?”
Junhui only smiled, sheepish and curling in on himself over his bowl of noodles. “Because you have.” When Minghao didn’t reply, he added, “You regret ending things with him.”
“I don’t regret cutting off a relationship before we both got irreparably hurt from it, if that’s what you mean,” was Minghao’s canned response. “And Mingyu didn’t know what he wanted. You know it's dangerous, not knowing what you want. That's how people get taken advantage of."
Junhui placed the last radish on Minghao’s plate gingerly. “You say that only because you think you have to say it.” It was even worse, knowing what you wanted but knowing it was never possible the way you dreamed it to be.
***
Mingyu calls him a week after the wedding. “I just have to understand,” he stammers as soon as Minghao picks up the line, “When you said you didn’t have everything you wanted. Did you mean – shit, this is so stupid, I just… I think I’m reading too much into this, but did you mean me?”
Minghao’s heart is beating in his throat. “Mingyu, this is–”
“Myungho,” Mingyu interjects like he’s afraid Minghao will hang up at any time, “I don’t think I’ve stopped loving you.” A dangerous hope shakes in his voice. “So if you still love me–”
When they were still together, it’d become a running joke that Mingyu was always bombarding him with a never-ending stream of questions, most of which Minghao answered to with some version of no.
“Don’t you ever get tired?” Minghao asked once, half-laughing and apologetic. Mingyu’s thumb was rubbing against the cracked skin on Minghao’s knuckles, dry from the winter. The touch was so tender it stung. “You hear ‘no’ more often than a cold call salesperson.”
“Congratulations on your engagement,” Minghao settles on, hanging up the phone right after. It buzzes with an incoming call less than ten seconds later, and again, and again, and again until it finally quiets like something on its dying breaths inevitably succumbing to the end.
Mingyu on that couch had peered up at him from where he’d been resting his head on Minghao’s shoulder. “All it takes is one yes to make it worthwhile,” he said, playing the part to a T with a full-canine smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.