𝐀𝐊𝓤𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐒

heat lifts and swirls into the air as he sits by his sliding door, gaze vacantly watching the world blur by him while his tea steeps; he's hypnotized from the gentle lull of the waves and the people that dot the shoreline of the beach. he wonders, distantly, what they feel when the sand climbs up to their ankles or when the sea salt hits their visages or even when they jump into the water and the coldness climbs up their body like a familiar lover unseen for years.

( KKT -> 창민형 ) tell me about it, hyung. it's been crazy this week, hasn't it?

he shifts on the cushion meant solely for sitting, curling a leg under his weight before bringing a hand down to the heated clay pot— his palm slides over the body of it, heavy weight feeling soft and comforting against his skin.

hesitation anchors itself in his body, stiffening his joints and muscles. with a languid sort of motion, minghao looks to his phone and at where his messages lay bare. changmin hadn't responded yet so he jumps at the opportunity, leaning against his coffee table with a soft, content yawn.

( KKT -> 창민형 ) actually. ( KKT -> 창민형 ) how about you come over, hyung? i'm brewing a fresh pot of tea.

            In  the  end  he  had  stretched  himself  too  thin.  If  someone  were  to  couple  that  with  the  arguments  he’d  had  with  people  he  believed  were  his  friends  that's  a  pretty  solid  recipe  for  emotional  disaster.  It  felt  a  little  bit  like  his  life  was  falling  apart,  and  there  were  only  so  many  people  he  could  lean  on. 

            There  was  a  horrible  voice  in  the  back  of  Changmin’s  head  telling  him  that  he  was  being  a  bad  senior,  a  bad  hyung  for  having  to  rely  on  someone  that  was  nearly  a  decade  younger  than  him,  but  he  was  quick  to  shake  those  thoughts  away.  Relying  on  his  friends  did  not  make  him  weak,  and  using  his  friends  in  the  way  that  they  were  meant  to  be  used  was  a  good  thing.  It’s  why  they  were  there  after  all  and  he  really  needed  to  try  and  move  past  the  constant  overthinking. 

[  KKT     >    徐明浩  ]  honestly  i  think  that’s  exactly  what  i  need [  KKT     >    徐明浩  ]  i  just  got  finished  dropping  everything  off  at  my place  from  the  airport  so  i’ll  head  right  over [  KKT     >    徐明浩  ]  i’ll  be  there  soon  ^^ 

            Armed  with  everything  that  he  had  picked  up  for  Minghao  during  his  trip  he  makes  quick  work  of  changing  out  of  the  clothes  he  wore  coming  back  from  Japan  into  something  a  lot  more  innocuous  and  comfortable  :  a  simple  pair  of  oversized  black  slacks  and  a  tee  shirt  of  the  same  color  and  fit,  fabric  hanging  off  of  him  in  a  way  that  both  showcased  and  hid  his  form.  A  cap  was  pulled  low  over  his  eyes  and  a  mask  hiding  his  face,  both  to  keep  himself  tucked  away  from  the  public  eye  and  just  to  have  a  bit  of  privacy  to  himself.

            Changmin  knows  that,  the  second  Minghao  sees  him,  the  man  will  see  right  through  whatever  walls  he’s  attempted  to  put  up  in  the  span  of  the  short  drive. 

            The  trip  is  about  as  smooth  and  quick  as  can  be  with  the  traffic  in  Korea,  and  Changmin  takes  a  moment  to  breathe  a  little  bit  as  he  gets  out  of  the  car.  He  immediately  smells  the  ocean  and  it  calms  him  a  bit,  and  he  quickly  understands  why  his  friend  picked  such  a  place  to  live.  The  voice  quickly  returns  in  the  back  of  his  head,  berating  him  for  choosing  an  apartment  in  one  of  the  luxury  complexes  in  Seoul  over  somewhere  more  peaceful  and  quiet.  This  time  though,  when  he  tries  to  shake  the  mental  ugliness  away,  it  refuses  to  disappear,  only  getting  louder  and  louder  as  he  heads  up  towards  the  unit. 

the world is frozen around minghao's body, his mind unable to process anything besides the hand on his back— a stable and grounding tether to the earth, to his present, but it does little to combat against the static roaring to life in his head. his breaths come out heavy and the panic rises like bile in the back of his throat, the pulse of an oncoming migraine pressing incessantly against his temple.

he can't possibly remember the exact events of his journey to this point in his day; he remembers, in short bursts, the airport and seventeen landing from god knows where. he remembers, with a figurative burst of a vein, the uproar of screams and the way bodies were pushing against barricades, against the hands of bodyguards.

trembling fingers press against his forehead roughly, eyelids squeezing shut to will the pain away— minghao had never been too good at handling pain, despite getting injured so often, and he had never been too good at averting mental crises, despite having a history of depressive slumps every so often. this, however? this was bad.

he's not alone, he knows this, but the body beside him does little to ease the panic in his chest— ballooning, ballooning, ballooning. this is his own personal war and he knows he needs to push against it.

a deep inhale now and he holds this breath in his chest to push the feeling down until it's practically nonexistent, and then he exhales once his lungs feel the deep ache. it feels like a breath of fresh air, albeit a momentary relief from the fuzzed screams in his head. minghao's legs give out from underneath his own weight, leaning into changmin's hand with a shaky sigh.

"yeah," he breathes out, elongating the syllables with a weak tremor. "yeah, i know." a whisper of the words, ghastly when he utters them out, with an edge of relinquishing whatever stubborn hold his brain had over him being an idol in the present moment. he knows he doesn't have to uphold any of the standards here— knows that this is a safe space, that he's but human and not a machine.

and as he sits there, knees pressing into the ground, the thought slips from him over and over again.

            It  was  how  Changmin  had  easily  spotted  the  signs  in  Minghao.  He  saw  the  drop  coming,  color  draining  from  their  eyes  along  with  the  inevitable  disassociation  and  denial.  With  no  hesitation  he  had  all  but  physically  scooped  up  the  man  and  dragged  him  away  from  the  crowd  before  anything  could  become  too  bad.  He  hadn’t  been  able  to  tell  what  had  set  off  his  friend  but,  quite  frankly,  that  really  didn’t  matter  in  the  end   —   what  did  was  making  sure  he  was  there  to  take  care  of  them. 

            And  that  was  how  they  had  currently  found  themselves  in  this  particular  situation.  Changmin  had  fallen  into  senior  idol  mode  quickly,  mind  sharp  as  he  took  care  of  his  friend  in  the  same  way  he  had  done  with  Yunho  for  two  decades.  Without  batting  an  eye  he  squeezes  at  Mighao’s  hand  tightly,  sliding  their  fingers  together  and  letting  them  interlock  even.  One  of  the  things  his  own  therapy  had  taught  him  to  help  with  others  was  deep  pressure.  That  sort  of  push  can,  sometimes,  be  enough  of  a  distraction  for  the  mind  to  pull  away  from  any  type  of  panic. 

            Slowly  and  with  cautious  movements,  Changmin  slides  down  until  he’s  sitting  on  the  floor  beside  Minghao,  never  once  letting  go  of  their  hand  as  he  did  so.    “  Yunho  hyung  used  to  get  really  bad  panic  attacks  after  he  was  poisoned.  ”     He  suddenly  says,  though  his  voice  is  quiet  and  even,  calm  in  a  way  that  he  had  spent  twenty  years  perfecting. 

            Changmin  can  picture  the  panic  attacks  that  Yunho  would  get  so  clearly  in  his  head,  even  though  so  much  time  has  passed.  Sometimes  he  would  hear  the  click  of  a  bottle  opening  and  suddenly  be  unable  to  breath,  unable  to  eat  or  drink  because  he  got  so  worried  someone  else  was  going  to  try  and  hurt  him.  Yunho’s  hands  would  shake,  he’d  completely  shut  down  physically  and  mentally,  even  becoming  unresponsive.  All  Changmin  could  do  was  sit  there  and  hold  him,  try  to  ground  him  back  to  reality  as  much  as  he  possibly  could. 

            It  was  what  Changmin  was  going  to  do  now  with  Minghao   —   or  at  least  what  he  was  going  to  try  to  do.  His  movements  are  incredibly  careful  as  he  shifts  to  sitting  properly  on  his  rear,  not  once  letting  go  of  the  other’s  hand  as  he  moves.    “  Something  that  helped  him  was,  honestly,  as  simple  as  a  tight  hug.  It  gives  your  mind  something  else  to  focus  on.  ”     He  explains  as  he  uses  his  free  arm  to  help  adjust  how  the  younger  idol  was  sitting.  He  swings  their  legs  over  his  own  lap  so  that  he  can  drag  them  close,  moving  slowly  but  clinically.

"hyung," he drags out, syllables slurred with the lull of the alcohol, and then proceeds to take another sip as though the mere memory of the punishment were inflicting him negatively (it isn't and he's simply a secretive creature of intense dramatics). "yeah, fuck if i remember what the game was— but it was some punishment," he mumbles into his glass, tone whiny even as he nods his gratitude at the refilling of the soju, watching the ice with a slight morbid curiosity.

what a sight, in all honesty. minghao is known for being put-together— the member with the highest level of emotional intelligence, the one who will stay sober to drag the drunkards back home, and the one with the leashes tight around his knuckles. it's rare for him to let loose this much and, in all honesty, it had been a long time since he had last drank so much.

though if he attempts to remember the last time in his current state, he'd end up sinking into the plush couch and disappearing altogether. so, he decides to not do that. the pinch in his brow smooths out, his visage devoid of any wrinkles now, and he leans forward to clumsily place an ice cube in his glass too. with a pleased hum, he swirls the liquid in the glass, watching the ice dance around with each gentle movement— then, as though he were shot with a remembrance bullet, he sits up a little, continuing where had left off.

a sip, his words muffled as the soju coats his lips, chills his teeth, and makes his entire body shiver from the sudden wave of cold. "randomly memorized while drunk off my ass? nope, i needed to look it up on my phone." now, this memory flutters to the forefront of his mind and he ends up laughing at it, uncontrollable and infectious.

indeed, it had been when they still lived together— three floors, three dorms, and the guys were quite the clingy sort. even if a couple of members had differing schedules, it had felt as though they hadn't seen one another for a month or so. minghao can hardly remember the occasion, really, but he remembers them gathering on the wood flooring, a rug thrown on there to lessen the eventual pain to their rears. he remembers glasses being clinked, heads leaning on shoulders, the sticky sweetness of somaek, and the lingering taste of fried chicken in the air.

conversations traveled all around the world and lingered in places where home burned the brightest— they were young, it's to be remembered, and hadn't the best handle on sentimentalities just yet. they combatted it the only way they knew how, and that had been with some ridiculous drinking game.

"korean games of any sort were my ultimate weakness," minghao murmurs, as though entranced by the memory and the dc show running on the television in front of him. he inhales through his soju-coated teeth, tongue running across the front of them before taking another long sip. "so i lost, naturally, and the punishment was decided by joshua hyung."

there's a flatness to tone and face, the glassiness disappearing as his memories filter just the same way each scene animates into the next on the screen. his head tilts to the side, falling back on the plush edge of the couch, and he offers a loose grin. "joshua hyung was a menace back then, too. he pinned that on me, but i didn't feel like looking like an idiot and having that video of me used for blackmail so i just took a shot." minghao shrugs, not seeing it as anything different than the usual antics, and he wonders distantly, amidst the fuzz and the intoxication, if the elder has gone through anything like he has with his group back in the day.

            If  he’s  going  to  talk  about  his  past  then  he  is  going  to  need  just  a  little  bit  of  liquid  luck. 

            His  body  shifts  until  his  legs  are  criss-crossed  underneath  himself,  thumb  brushing  up  and  down  the  side  of  the  cup,  playing  with  the  condensation  that  was  building  there.    “  We  split  pretty  early  in  our  career  if  you  remember   —   but  we  still  shared  a  lot  of  very  fond  memories  together  in  the  meantime.  Nothing  all  that  crazy  happened  I  think  until  it  was  just  myself  and  Yunho.  ”     Okay  so  maybe  the  alcohol  was  doing  a  little  bit  more  to  his  brain  than  he  thought.  He  usually  kept  such  a  careful  filter  on  everything  regarding  life  before  the  infamous  TVXQ  break  up,  unless  it  was  with  Yunho  or  his  therapist  quite  frankly.

            Slowly  his  features  melted  as  he  sank  a  little  bit  more  into  the  cushions,  propping  himself  up  mildly  against  the  arm  of  the  couch  so  that  he  was  able  to  face  his  friend  properly.    “  But   …   Yunho  and  I  used  to  be  quite  loud  together  honestly,  especially  when  drinking.  A  lot  of  us  all  lived  in  the  same  dorm  building  :  Super  Junior  was  a  few  floors  up,  EXO  was  in  the  same  building  I  believe  as  well,  with  myself  and  Yunho  there  too.  ”     He  snorts  a  little  bit  at  the  memories  flowing  through  his  mind:  ridiculous  drinking  games  consisting  of  running  through  the  halls  and  sneaking  up  onto  rooftops,  causing  all  sorts  of  mischief.

            “  We  got  a  lot  of  noise  complaints,  quite  frankly   —   I  think  that  might  actually  be  some  of  the  worst  of  it.  ”     Truth  be  told,  with  Tohoshinki  being  such  a  small  group  anyways,  and  always  pretty  volatile  right  up  until  their  split   …   a  lot  of  the  memories  that  he  had  just  weren’t  the  best.  Sure  they  had  fun  sometimes,  but  it  gets  to  a  point  where  the  good  can  no  longer  outweigh  the  bad.    “  Though,  I  do  have  …  vague  memories  of  going  skinny  dipping.  All  I  really  remember  is  drinking  with  Minho,  Jaewon  hyung,  and  a  few  others.  At  some  point  we  were  absolutely  blasted  and  our  shirts  started  coming  off  by  the  pool.  ” 

            The  more  that  Changmin  talks  the  more  that  he  suddenly  remembers  their  vacation  together.  Somehow  the  color  both  simultaneously  drains  from  his  face  and  turns  his  ears  bright  red,  a  hand  coming  up  to  rub  at  his  forehead  as  he  heaves  a  loud  sigh.    “  I  can’t  remember  how  or  why  I  decided  to  get  absolutely  naked  but  I  did  …  ”     His  eyes  are  a  little  unfocused  as  he  tries  to  recall  how  everything  happened,  lips  pulling  into  a  tight  line  before  taking  another  sip  of  his  drink.  Though  typically  Yunho  was  the  one  to  get  loud  with  his  friends,  his  boisterous  personality  was  absolutely  a  factor,  Changmin  did  …  fly  off  the  handle  himself  on  rare  occasions. 

            He  thinks  for  another  moment  before  making  a  small    ‘  ahh  ’     sound  as  he  suddenly  recalled  the  rest  of  the  evening,  the  sound  morphing  into  an  embarrassed  little  laugh.  He  deposits  his   (  now  )   empty  glass  onto  the  table  in  front  of  him  as  he  rubs  at  his  face  with  a  groan,  taking  a  moment  to  gather  himself  before  speaking.    “  I  got  up  on  the  diving  board,  it  wasn’t  a  high  one,  and  proclaimed  I  could  fly  like  Superman  …  and  proceeded  to  belly  flop,  forgetting  to  actually  jump.  ”     He  remembers  it  so  clearly  now  that  he  talks  about  it  :  standing  at  the  edge  of  the  platform  proclaiming  loudly  while  intoxicated  he  was  somehow  going  to  fly  or  float  after  he  jumped,  only  to  completely  forget  that  portion  and  just  fall  forward. 

feel free to combine prompts! add ' reverse ' to switch roles! WARNINGS: drugs, alcohol

[ GLITTER ] for my muse to brush against yours & accidentally get bodyglitter on them

[ EARPLUGS ] for my muse to be obviously overwhelmed & yours offers them earplugs

[ HEADLINER ] for our muses to finally see the act they came for together

[ SUNBURN ] for my muse to apply aloe to your muse's sunburn

[ BACKSTAGE ] for my muse to ask yours to sneak in backstage with them

[ SHROOMS ] for  our  muses  to  take  something  together  &  ride  it  out

[ REFILL ] for my muse to run into yours at the drink stand

[ LOST ] for my muse to run into yours while lost

[ SELFIE ] for my muse to take a picture with yours

[ CRASH ] for my muse to invite yours to their tent, van, or hotel

[ BAND ] for my muse to be part of the band & meet yours after the show

[ VIP ] for my muse to invite yours to a vip event

[ AFTER PARTY ] for my muse to hang out with yours after the festivities have died down for the night

[ DOWNPOUR ] for our muses to get caught out together in a sudden downpour

[ NEON ] for my muse to draw something on your muse's body that can only be seen under a blacklight

[ BUZZED ] for my muse to tipsily ramble to yours while waiting for a show

[ SHIMMER ] for my muse to do your muse's makeup

[ SKIP ] for my muse to offer to skip the show with yours

back, sender gives receiver a back hug.

beckon, sender beckons receiver closer with a finger.

blood, sender cleans blood off of receiver.

book, sender helps receiver get a book from a higher part of the shelf.

care, sender takes care of receiver when they're sick.

catch, sender catches receiver by the waist after they bump into each other.

choke, sender saves receiver from choking by giving them the heimlich.

cold, sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders.

cry, sender wipes tears off receiver's face with their thumbs.

dance, sender sticks a hand out to receiver and invites them to dance.

dip, sender skinny dips in front of receiver and invites them to join.

dog, sender's dog pulls them in receiver's direction.

drive, sender drives receiver somewhere in their car.

drag, sender drags receiver into a room and closes the door behind them.

draw, sender draws receiver like one of their french girls.

face, sender turns receiver's face towards them.

flower, sender gives receiver a flower.

footsie, sender initiates footsie with receiver under the table.

forehead, sender presses their forehead against receiver's.

grab, sender grabs receiver's wrist to stop them from leaving.

jump, sender jumps onto receiver's back.

kiss, sender kisses receiver.

link, sender links arms with receiver while walking.

massage, sender offers receiver a massage.

patch, sender patches up receiver's wounds.

piano, sender teaches receiver how to play the piano.

pin, sender pins receiver's hands behind their back.

pluck, sender plucks something out of receiver's hair.

press, sender presses receiver against a wall.

propose, sender proposes to receiver.

quiet, sender gestures for receiver to be quiet.

rest, sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder.

serenade, sender serenades receiver with a song.

sign, sender walks into a sign and receiver sees.

size, sender measures the size of their hand against receiver's.

shoes, sender removes receiver's shoes for them.

sun, sender rubs sunblock onto receiver's back.

tattoo, sender gives receiver a tattoo.

tie, sender helps tie receiver's tie.

tuck, sender tucks receiver's hair behind their ear.

umbrella, sender lets receiver under their umbrella.

warning, sender presses a knife against receiver's neck as a warning.

it's strange, he realizes suddenly, how the rain touches every sense of his with a yearning he cannot seem to understand— when he stands beside the window, admiring the architecture of the apartment, he starts feeling warm despite the adverse reality of him being cold-soaked to the bone. the elder's smile, the gentle yet playful touch to his hair, and the arrangement of banchan and budae jjigae all add to this strangest feeling of nostalgia.

the warmth, as though having grown into a person, feels as though it's hugging him from the inside. he hasn't felt this comforted and safe in quite some time. this, he fears, is something to unpack at a later time— perhaps with a looser tongue and a full stomach.

minghao's lips curl into a looser smile, his body relaxing as his hands fall from where they linger at his chin and find comfort in the quiet of his pockets. he feels, truly feels, changmin's sincerity in the words, the kind dismissal of his worries with a reassurance that runs down his spine like a calm river.

"ah, if you say so," he responds with a soft chuckle, glancing over at the sight the windows provided them both with. "with a sight like this, though, i wouldn't complain doing mundane chores, hyung. this is beautiful." he takes a beat, just to admire the way the clouds smatter across the blue of the sky and the sun, shying away behind lumps of white, glistening like the bright star it is.

he imagines, visualizes, how it must look on a rainy day— rain drops sliding down these massive windows. his mind gallops through images of sunsets, sunrises, and gloomy days— he paints a scenery of winters, springs, and summers in this spot. then, suddenly, inspiration. he files away his desire to paint in the back of his mind, thinks he'll finish it and gift it to changmin eventually.

quickly being pulled out of his imagination, his secret world, his attention is thusly turned to both his demanding stomach and the inciting aroma of freshly cooked cuisine; a bashful smile is offered, then, remembering his situation. he pulls at his shirt, it stiffening the more it air dried where he stands, and nods gratefully, his expression twisting into a soft appreciation for having a senior in the industry that he can feel this comfortable around. it's rare, truth be told, to find genuine people in their industry— when the gems are unearthed, it's important to cherish them as they're meant to be.

            “  My  home  is  everything  to  me.  ”     He  replies  quietly,  a  little  lost  in  his  own  head  as  memories  of  signing  the  paperwork  come  flooding  back.    “  I’ve  been  in  the  spotlight  for  almost  twenty  five  years  so  having  a  place  that’s  really  truly  a  home  was  important  to  me.  ”     He  pauses  for  a  second,  words  thoughtful.    “  I’ve  done  my  best  to  fill  it  with  what  I  love  while  making  it  welcoming  towards  others.  ”     There’s  a  ridiculous  smile  on  his  face  that  keeps  getting  bigger  and  bigger  the  more  that  he  talks. 

            With  an  ever  so  slight  bounce  in  his  step,  Changmin  turns  back  to  the  table  alongside  Minghao,  stomach  suddenly  reminded  of  the  food  that  he  had  prepared.  The  scent  was  beginning  to  fill  the  space  and  was  reminding  him  that  he  really  needed  to  eat.  He  finds  himself  rolling  his  eyes  a  little  bit  at  the  chores  comment,  resisting  the  urge  to  reach  over  to  tug  playfully  on  the  still  drying  locks  on  Minghao’s  head.  Instead  he  just  picks  up  one  of  the  bottles  of  Soju  and  clinks  it  against  his  friends,  taking  a  swig  of  it  with  a  smile.    “  It  ended  up  costing  me  about  nine  billion  won  if  you  have  that  much  lying  around.  ”

            Having  another  sip  of  the  alcohol  in  his  hand  he  carefully  places  it  back  down  on  the  table  right  afterwards,  unable  to  stop  himself  from  clapping  the  other  on  the  shoulder.  He  had  easily  taken  note  of  how  they  picked  at  their  still  drying  shirt  a  little  bit,  and  the  order  of  things  he  initially  had  suggested  changed  in  an  instant  internally.    “  I’ll  gladly  tell  you  all  about  my  home  but  let  me  actually  grab  you  some  dry  clothes  first.  You  don’t  look  comfortable.  ”     He  also,  quite  honestly,  didn’t  want  wet  clothes  on  his  chairs  but  he  wasn’t  about  to  say  that  out  loud.

            Changmin  had  always  been  really  particular  about  cleanliness,  even  having  multiple  sets  of  slippers  scattered  throughout  his  home  so  that  things  didn’t  overlap.  He’d  spoken  to  a  few  therapists  about  it  before  and,  while  it  didn’t  seem  to  be  OCD,  there  were  absolutely  little  quirks  that  pointed  in  that  direction.  He  had  learned  to  live  with  it  though,  working  around  the  things  that  made  him  uncomfortable  and  making  sure  that,  with  his  lifestyle,  he  wouldn’t  get  overstimulated  by  different  textures  that  could  potentially  set  him  off. 

            He  makes  sure  not  to  be  gone  too  long  while  going  to  get  some  fresh  clothes,  his  pace  relatively  quick  moving  through  his  home.  He  slides  out  of  the  slippers  he  had  been  wearing  in  another  portion  of  the  house  and  into  the  ones  for  his  bedroom,  foot  snagging  a  little  bit  in  front  of  his  dresser.  Changmin  digs  through  the  different  drawers  before  he  eventually  pulls  out  one  of  the  softest  pair  of  sweatpants  that  he  owns,  fleece  lined  and  warm  on  the  inside  while  nice  and  baggy  as  well.  Easily  one  of  his  favorite  pairs.  The  tee  shirt  he  grabs  is  a  bit  random,  a  simple  black  one  from  one  of  his  last  tours   —   it  hadn’t  exactly  been  intentional,  but  he  wasn’t  about  to  find  a  new  one.