It’s no surprise that Minghao has a life outside of dance practice and Mingyu’s PT sessions, but it’s still a little disappointing when he cancels on the 2^nd. Ironically or not, it’s on a Thursday. Now, Mingyu is left with a half-eaten Subway sandwich and about eight pounds of discount candy. Questions about Halloween were on the tip of his tongue, but Minghao wasn’t very talkative. In addition to that, it was the first time that Minghao brought over a subpar meal. Well, it’s Subway so it isn’t The Worst, but it’s nothing compared to the stuff he’d been bringing over days before.

          He remembers the short apology.

          Minghao has been troubled with something daunting back at his apartment and while he refuses to tell Mingyu the exact parameters of the issue, Mingyu knows that it involves Seungcheol and something about wanting to take Thursday to go into the city and have a talk. A serious talk. Over dinner. He’s not entirely sure how he feels about that information. Although he has little experience with stern talks, personal ‘talks’ are usually full of personal things, serious matters, stuff that will carry long-lasting weight and if Seungcheol wants to call Minghao out to talk about it then it must involve him in some way.

          But Minghao’s the type of person who is really good at listening. He’s able to sit down and be an emotional sponge for anyone who needs to vent. The guy isn’t really affected by it and he can give level-headed advice afterwards—at least that’s what Minghao claimed to be the reason why Seungcheol wants to talk to him. Up until now, Mingyu had assumed that Seungcheol and Minghao were roommates and just that, but they seem to be closer than he originally framed them to be. It shouldn’t be cause for worry, but there’s something about their relationship that stresses him.

          There shouldn’t be. There shouldn’t be.

          But there is.

          Dragging the giant bags of candy to work the next day somehow makes them heavier. Wonwoo can tell right away that there’s something eating at him, but Mingyu denies it all. He’s really just a little salty that dinner was a not-five-dollar footlong. The weather is getting cold and salad on stale bread wasn’t cutting the dinner-time standard that Minghao had set the previous meals. He misses deep flavors and warm food.

          “No Hao today?” Mingyu looks up at Wonwoo who starts picking at the large bag of chocolates and candies, wrinkling his nose when he discovers an entire package of Tootsie Rolls.

          “How’d you know?”

          Wonwoo snickers, “Hao’d I know? Soonyoung and Jun are covering his classes. If you’re concerned about the roomie, don’t. They’re just friends.”

          “One, never asked. Two, their personal affairs are none of my business.” He snatches the bag shut and away from the other PT, earning a grumble. There are a lot of things that are a tad off-kilter about today. Seokmin had ditched his morning lecture halls to sleep in, but was called into work anyway since Jeonghan is a no-show. Joshua doesn’t seem very worked up about it and he usually berates anyone for not calling in ahead of schedule. This would be the first time Jeonghan slid under the radar to catch up on beauty sleep. Joshua, himself, is also set to leave work early and the secretary for the imaging department, Siyeon, will take over for him. That’s the event that stands out the most since Joshua never leaves work early. He’s been here every day, all day since Mingyu’s started working and he’s pretty sure that the trend was there since the place opened. It’s probably just one of those weird, astral Thursdays. More so than feeling like he’s at work, he feels like he’s standing in a Safeway at midnight. There’s just something off about it.

          “You’re spacier than usual.” Wonwoo ruffles his hair. It’s down today, like, rolled-out-of-bed-and-combed-it-with-my-fingers-at-a-red-light down. He’s not seeing anyone important today; it doesn’t matter, “Seungcheol’s probably just having a bit of a rough patch right now. He probably just wants to ask Hao for some perspective.”

          Mingyu, as always, is very suspicious that Wonwoo knows more about Seungcheol and Minghao than he lets on. What happened to not knowing anything about the roommate? Lies. All of it, “Again, didn’t ask.”

          “Right.”

          Wonwoo lets the silence hang in the air like he’s fishing for Mingyu’s curiosity, but Mingyu has a strong resolve and isn’t going to care because he doesn’t. He doesn’t care in the slightest! He doesn’t care that Minghao’s rich-boy roommate has whisked him off to the city and is buying him a nice dinner and that they’re talking about personal stuff and that there’s going to be emotional vulnerability served at that table. “Did something happen at home?” Damn. So much for that resolve.

          The older male smiles, “Not that I know of, but I don’t know that much about Seungcheol.”

          “Then how’d you know about the rough patch or whatever?”

          “You seem to always forget that Soon and Hao are friends and friends talk to each other about things.” He laughs, “Hao’s just really worried about him. They haven’t known each other for that long, but I think that—to a point—Seungcheol is dependent on Minghao for his upstanding support. Hao’s the one who pushed him to keep writing and not give up on that dream and he relies on Hao for sound advice when it comes to his relationships and publications; stuff like that. I’m pretty sure Hao even edits his manuscripts sometimes.”

          This is the perfect opportunity to ask, isn’t it?

          “Relationship advice? Really?”

          “Hey, Hao’s dated and he definitely reads enough to understand a vast amount of relationship dynamics, but you shouldn’t be getting that information from me.” Wonwoo’s using the nickname a lot today and Mingyu isn’t too sure if it’s out of convenience or out of habit, maybe it’s just to , but he isn’t very concerned.

          Because now Mingyu has a hundred questions quivering at the tip of his tongue. The idea that Minghao has dated people in the last ten years shouldn’t be anything notable or odd, in fact, that’s probably the normal thing to do. Minghao was charismatic; is charismatic. He’s beautiful and has a cool occupation and probably keeps amazing stories stored in his back pocket for warm coffeeshop dates. He’s not the type to go out to bars or fall into one-night stands. However, all of that is just information that Mingyu gleans from hangin- working with him. Their conversations aren’t ever deep enough for Mingyu to pick up on less-professional traits, but he’s just sure about it.

          Minghao’s probably the type to like serious, long-term stuff. Mingyu does, too.

          “I know you want to ask and I know you have something on your mind, Gyu, but it’s really not that hard to just talk to Minghao.”

          Talk to Minghao. Wow, Wonwoo. If it wasn’t already obvious that Mingyu can barely meet eyes with the guy, what makes you think he can talk to him on a personal level. To his credit, Mingyu did try to talk about high school with Minghao and that ended poorly every single time. Admittedly, when they’ve talked the previous few nights, the conversation had been pleasant and steady, but, “Talking to him is… difficult.”

          “I’m pretty sure you’re the one making it difficult.” Wonwoo takes the bag of candy back from Mingyu’s clammy hands and starts searching through it again. Joshua had come through earlier and hoarded a lot of the Milky Ways and (begrudgingly) the Kit-Kats. He pulls out a Twix, opening the wrapper and popping the chocolate into his mouth, “Minghao likes talking. He’s easy to get along with.”

          “We can agree to disagree on that point.” But Wonwoo isn’t wrong. After Minghao settled everything at work and started mending his knee and feeling better, he was much more amicable. Small talk was easy, just nothing personal. Mingyu just can’t settle for an easy answer. If it’s that simple—which it’s not—to talk to Minghao, then why was it such a chore after their first time meeting almost ten years down the road? Mingyu is good at speaking, he’s good at sweettalk, he’s good at first impressions, and he botched it all because Minghao was impossible. 

          “Maybe you guys just need a change of environment.” Wonwoo shrugs, “Based on you as a person, I’d guess that your apartment might be a little stuffy.”

          “Rude.”

          “Is it, though? I mean, Minghao can learn everything about you from your apartment; how you live, what you like—he doesn’t have to ask about any of that stuff if he’s seen your apartment more than once.”

          Mingyu hates to admit that Wonwoo makes a good point. He’s going to have to figure out a way to open up the conversation. In addition to that, he’ll also have to figure out a way to save some good candy for himself. He didn’t have enough foresight to leave the good kush in his cabinet and Wonwoo, Seokmin, and Joshua are plowing through the chocolates. The imaging department has also started weaseling their way into the candy bag, stealing a significant amount of sweets when Mingyu’s out with patients.

          Based on his apartment alone, Minghao can probably glean that he’s a neat-freak.

          Minghao probably knows that no one ever comes over because everything has its place and nothing is ever moved. Every single detail of the living room isn’t tailored to anyone in particular, not even Mingyu. He had intended to go shopping for in-home items and décor, but the apartment wasn’t going to be 'home' for long. Once he started on his full-time pay, he’d probably upgrade to a nicer place and once he got married and had joint incomes, he’d finally settle into a forever-home. That’s not to say that the living room isn’t nicely furnished, it does have some useless knickknacks and bobbles that Mingyu’s saved from moving place to place during his college career, but outside of the handful of trophies, his diplomas, and some glass ornaments that sit pretty on the entertainment center, it’s rather barren.

          Everything is neutral in color; browns, tans, blacks, whites, like the clinic. He doesn’t know much about coordinating color or home improvement, but he figures if everything is within the same area, then he can’t be doing a horrible job. Even the kitchen is outfitted with silver stainless steel and dark granite. His cupboards are a warm, deep wooden color, and the floors are white tile. It looks a little like a showroom in IKEA without all the fun pops of color. Mingyu had abandoned his creative efforts in high school to focus on his more scientific studies. The only thing of significant hue is the blue candle that Minghao had brought over a few nights ago. It stands out, but not garishly so. It compliments the room and it looks intentional; it looks like it belongs there. He attributes that to Minghao’s fashion sense.

          Mingyu feels a little bad that it’s spending its life sitting up on a shelf looking pretty because he doesn’t want to burn it more than he already has.