The thing that set Minho and Changmin apart the most, but one of things Minho loved sincerely about him, was how they prioritized their individual families.

Minho loved his parents very much, and the rest of his immediate family, including his brother and sister, but that love had always felt a little contrived, or existent because of an obligation. For Minho, his happiness was not dependent on theirs, and despite the functions that they attended together in a show of familial solidarity, Minho couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d sat down to a dinner with anyone in his family simply for the sake of it.

And it was something Minho was rightly okay with. He’d always been independent, maybe to fault. He’d never really been the sort to require any kind of support system, and until Changmin, he’d never craved knowing he was making anyone proud.

But Changmin and his family? Changmin and Yunho? They were different.

Minho liked to tell himself it was because Changmin’s family was a bit unconventional. Changmin and Yunho didn’t actually share any blood between them, but they were closer than siblings who did. They’d cared for each other without hesitation when adults were typically selfish, and as a result, had developed a type of codependency. It had faded a bit as they’d grown older, naturally, but it was still ever present.

“I wouldn’t have made it without him,” Changmin told him once, early in their relationship, and maybe so Minho would know immediately how important Yunho would always be. “I would have died out there, Minho. In the orphanage. On the streets. I was small. I wasn’t always healthy. I wouldn’t have made it. I couldn’t have fended for myself.”

Since they’d set a rough timeline for the wedding, and in fact since Minho had suggested such a thing, and Changmin had answered yes before Minho could properly go about it, Changmin had been excited over the thought of introducing him to his brother. It seemed the only important thing to him now. Changmin desperately wanted Minho and Yunho to get along and like each other.

Because that was how important Yunho was to him. And Minho had sinking suspicion that if Yunho didn’t approve of the marriage, and pushed the issue, Changmin’s enthusiasm for it might take a dive. Or worse.

That was possibly the only reason Minho had so readily agreed to let Changmin go traipsing off with his big brother, more than likely getting involved in something less than legal.

Well, Changmin didn’t need his permission or anything.

The point was, at least from Minho’s perspective, that if he hadn’t supported Changmin, it might have eventually led to a point where Changmin might have needed to make a choice between the two of them.

Minho wasn’t hedging any bets on Changmin picking him over Yunho, no matter how much they were in love.

So he’d told Changmin to go after Yunho. He’d convinced him, even. And then he’d personally exerted his father’s influence to hold up Yunho’s ship until Changmin could get there and board. It certainly hadn’t been because Minho had wanted him to go. It had only been because Minho loved Changmin, and wanted him happy above all else.

He’d had a bad feeling in his gut ever since, and it had only compounded as the days passed and he heard nothing from Changmin.

Not until Changmin’s call had finally come through and he’d said, “I can’t find my brother, Minho.”

If Changmin lost Yunho, Minho was absolutely certain he wouldn’t be the Changmin he’d fallen in love with. Something would be unequivocally broken inside of him. And that wasn’t’ something Minho was willing to let happen.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“You realize,” Jonghyun said, pouring two fingers of whiskey and passing it off to Minho, “that your father is going to use this against you for the next few decades.”

Minho accepted the drink thankfully and tore his gaze away from the starry sky that was flashing by in a blur. “You think I don’t know that?” Minho asked with a chuckle. “He made sure to let me know he had to promise to hold an officer’s ball in the captain’s honor the next time his shore leave rotates out, and my father had to make a sizable donation in both credits and the currency of propaganda. So yes, I know that this means I’ll be standing by my father’s side for the next ten years, smiling like a fool at dinner function after function, charity ball after charity ball, ribbon cutting ceremony after--”

“I get it,” Jonghyun said, taking a seat next to Minho at the small table in the room. “You’re going to be his for a sizable chunk of the foreseeable future.”

Blandly, Minho said, “Thank you for phrasing it that way.”

“Sure,” Jonghyun grinned widely. “But here’s the part where you tell me what was so important that you up and got on a ship, and I know how much you hate flying, with the more interesting part being how we’re now diverted from our plotted course and for a reason that that Captain Jung has been especially tight lipped about. Even to the officers, though Key thinks it has to do with some rebel business, Onew is convinced we’re now errand boys, and Taemin still thinks the captain hates him so much he’s going to use this as an excuse to space him.”

“Taemin’s still a kid,” Minho laughed off, letting the whiskey warm him against the cold of space. “I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing out here anyway. He was all poised to inherit his father’s business, and he turned it down for what? A uniform?”

Jonghyun shrugged. “Maybe looking over legers of numbers for years until he needed corrective eye surgery wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life, Minho. Not everyone blindly does what their parents want them to.”

It was a dig, and a personal one at that, but Minho didn’t let it curl under his skin like it wanted to. Minho had known Jonghyun for a long time, and Key and Onew as well. He’d known them all before they’d joined the Alliance, when they’d simply been teenagers on Helios, getting into trouble and arrogant enough to buy their way out of whatever the consequences were. Minho even remembered Taemin as a snotty nosed kid, always trailing after them, complaining about getting left behind and how he was going to tell his mother.

The military had been a good option for Jonghyun and Onew, who’s parents could afford to purchase them an officer’s commission before enlisting. And it was the only option for Key, unless he wanted to end up working in a factory, or roped into something off planet. But Taemin? Taemin who’s parents were filthy rich and doted on him, spoiled him even, and would have set him up with a trust fund for life?

Maybe it came down to Taemin not wanting to get left behind by people he truly cared about, and not having the desire to do what Minho had, and delve into a career that would bring no happiness.

Only Taemin could tell Minho what the truth actually was.

“I’m on this ship, which your captain assures me is one of the fastest Alliance vessels in the area, because of Changmin.”

“Ah,” Jonghyun said, taking a generous second drink. “The fiancé.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Minho said, jabbing a finger at him. “Just because someone actually wants to marry me and you haven’t found anyone willing to do the same for you.”

“Oh, I’m not in any rush to throw away my freedom,” Jonghyun denied quickly. “I’m just curious to see who’d be certifiably insane enough to agree to marry you. I have to meet this Changmin. And before the wedding, is preferable.”

Minho shot him a look. “Who says you’re even coming?”

The serious look on Jonghyun’s face was almost startling, even more so when he said lowly, “I have been your friend for over a decade now, Minho. I’ve seen you go from a pimple faced twit to an actual adult, who’s responsible and boring as hell, but an important part of what keeps everything running smoothly down on Helios. So you are not going to sit here and tell me I don’t get to see you become someone’s husband. Because next you’ll be telling me I won’t be godfather the second you become a father.”

“Jonghyun,” Minho said softly, setting his tumbler down on the table. “I’m just joking with you. You’re coming to the wedding. And yes, even though you’ve already invited yourself to the position, when Changmin and I decide to start a family, you’ll be godfather. Jeeze, lay off the ennui.”

Jonghyun cleared his throat. “Good. Just so you understand.”

Minho pulled the bottle from Jonghyun’s hands and said, “Enough of this. I know you have to go back on shift in a couple of hours. How about you don’t end up spending the night in the brig?”

Sliding a little in his chair to get comfortable, Jonghyun asked, “We’re going to pick up your fiancé? Or deliver you to him?”

“Wrong on both accounts.”

“Then why are you here?” Jonghyun wanted to know. “Why are we playing chauffer to you when I know your father has a wicked fast transport that you could use if you needed to get out here?”

Minho had to nod. His father did have a small space craft that was quick and made for travel between planets. He could have taken it. His father hadn’t used it in half a year.

“This is a matter of speed,” Minho said plainly. “And my father’s space ship is fast, but it’s not as fast as an Alliance ship moving at top speed. And like I said, this is about Changmin, but we’re not going to get him.” With some reluctance, Minho had to add, “I’m going to see his brother.”

Jonghyun looked at him in disbelief. “Are you seriously making the Alliance cart you out here so that you can play meet the folks?”

“Changmin’s parents are dead,” Minho reminded sourly. “His brother is his only living family, and this is more of a recovery mission, than anything else. You’ll be dropping me off where he is, and another Alliance vessel is scheduled to take us towards where Changmin is. They’ve been separated, Jonghyun, and Changmin was upset because he couldn’t get a hold of his brother. Nothing was going through for Changmin, and he thought Yunho, his brother, was in trouble. I’m coming out here to sort it personally because I happen to be a fool in love.”

“Gods help you,” Jonghyun laughed out. “You must be.”

Minho let them each have one more drink for that.

“So where is this brother?” Jonghyun pried. “And why isn’t he answering Changmin’s communications? I barely get along with my brother, but when he calls, I answer. You just sort of do that with family, no matter how you feel about them.”

Minho said honestly, “I don’t know. That’s part of the reason I’m out here, doped up on dramamine.”

Jonghyun snorted out, “No one actually get space sick, Minho.”

Ignoring him, Minho said, “Changmin wasn’t even sure where his brother was. He just knew they were separated somewhere near New Haven. Security footage picked him up on Valhalla, two planets over from New Haven, but still easily within the same system. I watched the footage myself, Jonghyun. He looks fine. He looks perfectly fine. So why is he ignoring Changmin? Why hasn’t he even let Changmin know he’s okay? There has to be something more going on here, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

“Good luck with that,” Jonghyun said, fingers running through his short hair. “You and the brother get along?”

“I met him for about five minutes,” Minho laughed out. “I’m not sure if the impression was good on either side. But he’s Changmin’s brother. Changmin loves him, and I love Changmin, so here I am.”

“Well,” Jonghyung said with a heavy sight. “Good luck. Sounds like you’re going to need it.”

“Thanks,” Minho said. He hoped what greeted him on Valhalla was something he could report back to Changmin with happiness. He hoped there was a justifiable reason for Yunho ignoring Changmin and making him worry. Because if there wasn’t, Minho feared what would happen between the three of them, and how it would affect their future as a family.

Twenty hours later Minho found himself stepping off the Alliance ship with a small bag over one shoulder, and a determined resolve in his chest.

Like most of the planets located in the central Core, Valhalla was a hub of activity. An active space port gave way to a transport center filled with hotels, restaurants and more importantly, bars. And there was one bar Minho was looking for in particular, the very bar who’s security system had been the first to identify Yunho.

Minho had spent the last day or so watching that footage intensely, his attention drawn specifically to how often Yunho could be found sitting at the bar, shoulders slumped and head down as he nursed countless drinks. Occasionally they were others too, two men who came and went, often attempting to force the captain from the bar, but never succeeding.

The two men, Yunho’s companions, weren’t present when Minho made this way through the door to Odin’s Tavern. It was the kind of bar that catered to the likes of Yunho, probably serving scotch and whisky over the high priced and frankly somewhat bland alcohol Minho found closer to home.

But the captain was not present, which was an immediately worry for Minho. Cameras had tracked Yunho in the area for days, and he didn’t have much deviation from a pattern Minho had already memorized. If the captain wasn’t here, he had to be back at the hotel he was currently staying in, or stumbling around the space port like he seemed to do often.

“I’m looking for a man,” Minho said, sliding the bartender a credit chip and ordering a glass of water. He might have preferred something much stronger, but he needed to keep his wits about him, especially if the whole day was spent tracking down Yunho. “He’d have arrived several days ago and is often in the company of two other men.”

The bartender served him his glass of water, which looked clean enough, and slid the credit chip into his pocket. “A lot of men come through here. Can you be a little more specific?”

“I can do better.” Minho reached for his data pad and flipped it around for the bartender to see. “His name is Jung Yunho. Have you seen him? He comes here several times a day, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had to carry him out at the end of the night.”

The bartender gave a firm nod. “I know him. He usually stumbles his way in at the end of my shift. He’s …the kind of man who drinks like he has nothing else.”

Minho frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug, the bartender said, “He never makes eye contract, and the only time he talks is when he’s ordering a drink, or when those friends of his are trying to get him to leave. And yeah, sometimes he’ll drink until he’s close to passing out. Why are you looking for him?”

“Family business,” Minho informed him, passing the man another data chip. “You said he comes in at the end of your shift? When is that?”

After a glance toward the clock across the room on the wall, the bartender said, “About an hour. Stick around. He’ll be here.”

Minho wondered if it maybe wasn’t a better idea to keep moving, book a room at the local hotel, or even see if he could find Yunho before he showed up. But Minho was still feeling the after effects of traveling by ship, and no matter what Jonghyun said, the action made him more than a little nauseas.

Plus, an hour wasn’t so long to wait. Not for the answers he was determined to get from Yunho.

By the time the bartender tapped the countertop in front of him and gestured to the door, Minho had ordered something to eat and allowed himself a small drink.

All of that was forgotten as he turned to watch Yunho slink his way through the bar.

Minho had only met him the once before. But on that occasion Yunho had sort of been exactly the way Minho had imagined him been, from the way Changmin had described him. He’d been obvious captain material, tall, strong, and intimidating. He’d been a bit of a smart mouth, clearly the kind of man who commanded respect, but more importantly, the picture of a man who protected his family against any and all threats. That was what had eased Minho’s almost frantic concerns the most. Yunho had seemed as if he could take care of Changmin, as they flew off to get into trouble.

This man in front of him now, who wore Yunho’s face but seemed half the man physically now than he had been before, was radically different.

He seemed a shell of a man, hunched over with a slump as he walked, hair messy and in need of a brushing. There was several days worth of growth on his face, and he looked so pallid he seemed sick.

“Bartender,” Yunho said, throwing himself into the seat two down from Minho.

“Your usual?” the bartender asked, already halfway through making his drink.

Yunho gave a low grunt in return.

Minho leaned towards him, waiting for Yunho to recognize him, but the man who would be his brother-in -aw barely seemed aware of himself, let alone those around him.

Finally, out of patience and tired from all his travel, Minho cleared his throat and said, “Yunho.”

Yunho ignored him, reaching for the beer in front of him, gulping down some of the amber liquid quickly.

“Yunho,” Minho said against, sliding a chair closer. “It’s Minho.”

Yunho froze up, so at least Minho knew that Yunho recognized him there.

“Yunho, what the hell are you doing here?”

Moving almost sluggishly, Yunho set his glass down and turned bloodshot eyes on Minho. The look on his face was haunting.

Yunho’s voice was rough and low as he asked, almost like he thought he was hallucinating, “Minho?”

“How about,” Minho said, reaching for the beer and sliding it away from him, “we have this discussion with you sober. I can tell, neither one of us is going to enjoy it, but alcohol isn’t going to help it run any more smoothly.”

“You’re here.” Minho watched Yunho grip the countertop tightly, his fingers going white from the pressure. “How … why …”

“Because I was worried,” Minho said, and it was at least partially true. Of course if Changmin hadn’t been the one asking the favor, it was safe to say Minho wouldn’t have dared to think of leaving Helios for his wayward almost brother-in-law. However, they were going to be family, and if Changmin was worried, Minho felt obligated to be worried as well.

It was certainly Minho’s hope that the way that Changmin and Yunho loved each other would rub off a bit on Minho.

Yunho choked out a laugh. “You were worried about me?”

“Believe it or not,” Minho said. “Now, do you want to tell me what you’re doing here? I’ve got you on camera for the past few days doing nothing but drinking until you pass out.”

Yunho looked away, moving his hands to bunch up on the countertop, leaning forward to brace his elbows. “You’ve been watching me,” Yunho stated.

“For Changmin’s sake, if we’re being honest.”

“Do not,” Yunho said so viciously that he startled Minho and almost frightened him, “talk to me about Changmin.”

Minho was not one to be intimidated. He’d never been. Especially not by someone who had no right attempting it, whether it was reactionary or otherwise.

“I have every right to talk about him, Yunho,” Minho said right away, sternly even. “And that’s what this is really about. This, with you here, and me here, is about Changmin. So how about you start talking and we can get everything resolved.”

The bar was noisy around them. But Yunho was not. Instead he was still and quiet. He was, in Minho’s opinion, a perfect statue.

“Yunho?”

The first sign of life from Yunho came in the form of trembling shoulders, which gave way to shaky gasps of breath, and then eventually Yunho sliding forward until his forehead was braced against the bar countertop and he was going limp like jelly.

“I …” Minho reached a hand out for him, but drew back at the last moment. Changmin wasn’t overly affectionate. He liked to tease, and his verbal quips were almost legendary. But physically Changmin wasn’t much for what he jokingly called skinship. Was Yunho any different? Would he even want Minho to touch him?

“I’m sorry,” Yunho creaked out, head turning just slightly so that Minho could see the tears falling, streaking down his skin, making him seem much younger than he actually was.

“Sorry?” Minho asked. “For what?”

Yunho sniffled, and Minho could hardly believe what was happening. This couldn’t be Changmin’s brother. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I …” Yunho trailed off and finally Minho put a hand on his shoulder. When it wasn’t immediately shrugged off, Minho counted it as a win.

He dared to ask, “Why are you so upset? What’s got you all worked up like this?”

Blinking blearily at him, Yunho asked, his voice at a whisper, “Are you serious?”

Minho frowned. “Of course I’m serious. I want to know. Maybe if I know, I can help you figure it out. Or at the very least you have to give me something for Changmin. You’re scaring him half to death, I hope you realize. You won’t contact him, he can’t get through to you, and he’s going out his mind with--”

It happened so quickly that Minho lost himself for a moment.

Minho had never been much of a fighter. Per his father’s wishes, he and his brother had learned to defend themselves early on in life, and if push came to shove, in a fair fight, Minho was confident in his abilities. But Yunho had moved like a blur. He’d moved like he wasn’t even there, overturning bar chairs and ripping Minho off his feet with a twist to his arm before his mind could catch up.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Minho demanded, his arm wrenched up painfully behind his back, his face smashed down onto the bar top.

Around them voices quieted immediately and the barkeep was calling for Yunho to let him go, or face the consequences.

Minho certainly didn’t want Yunho being shot over him--that wasn’t really something he could explain to Changmin.

Quietly, and in the scariest voice Minho had ever heard, Yunho asked him, “What are you talking about? Changmin is dead.”

Minho’s feet fell out from under him even faster than Yunho had moved, and it disrupted the balancing act between the two of them. Yunho lost his grip and Minho slid to the floor, gasping out, “That’s not … it’s impossible. He’s not …”

“Of course he is,” Yunho spat out angrily, such furry and violence on his face. It crumpled a half second later, the tears threatening to resurface as he said much more kindly, “He’s dead, Minho. He’s dead. I’m so sorry. I was supposed to protect him. I was supposed to keep him safe. And now he’s …”

“He is not!” Minho shot to his feet, giving Yunho a vicious shove. “Don’t you say something like that.”

If Changmin were dead … Minho would …

Minho loved Changmin in the way that he’d almost imagined love couldn’t exist. In the way that was pure and unflinching, and wholly consuming. Life before Changmin was a distant memory, like a past life or vague dream. It was a place that Minho was never going back to, because he’d been incomplete then, and he was so very whole now.

“He is!” Yunho’s voice stormed back, and then from his pocket he retrieved a fist sized black box and slammed it down on the bartop.

Minho knew what it was immediately, despite very little knowledge about ships in general. But it was the most basic of understanding that each ship had within it a recorder, a little black, almost impenetrable computer that recorded everything from navigational data, to how the systems within the ship were functioning. They were always present in ships, a mandate by law that was strictly enforced, and an objected that few people ever hoped to see.

“Why do you--” Minho started to say, then stopped abruptly.

“This is all that’s left,” Yunho said, sliding it over to Minho who caught it awkwardly. “This is what’s left of Changmin. This and a bunch of floating space junk.”

Shakily Minho picked it up. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Yunho laughed out wryly. “And don’t bother deluding yourself. I already had the data analyzed. The ship … there was a hull fracture, and something went terribly wrong with the navigation system before that. The box recorded a loss of gravity, destabilization, and then an explosion. When I took the shuttle up to where I’d left the ship, the ship with Changmin on it, there was nothing but this, and space debris from what had been the ship. He’s … he’s gone.”

Yunho reached immediately for the beer in front of him and finished it off, then slammed his hand on the bar top and said, “I need another one.”

“Yunho,” the bartender eased out.

Minho lost himself in that moment, staring down at the recorder. His hearing winked out, his vision went spotting, and the world listed crazily to the side.

“It can’t …”

Changmin couldn’t be dead. It wasn’t possible. Changmin was … bright and sunny. He was funny and charming. He was thoughtful and intelligent. Changmin was everything right about Minho’s life, and everything his future held. He was not dead.

“He is not dead!”

Minho had not gotten on a ship, something that made him feel queasy and dizzy, and flown halfway across the Core for Changmin to be dead. And for what? For Minho to be left alone once more? Or worse, to be left with Yunho?

“Keep telling yourself that,” Yunho stated rudely. He was already working his way through the next drink.

This was why Yunho was where he was. This was why he was …

Wait.

Minho tried to get himself under control. His mind was whirling, but something wasn’t making sense.

“No,” he said, shaking his name and moving back to Yunho’s side. “I just talked to Changmin two days ago. He asked me to come looking for you then. But you’ve been here, steadily turning yourself into a drunkard, for a little over three.”

Yunho pivoted sharply towards him. “You talked to Changmin two days ago?”

Minho gave a slow nod. “I did. He contacted me because he was worried. He said he’d been separated from you, and couldn’t communicate with you. He thought something terrible had happened, so I came out here to make sure that wasn’t the case.”

“But,” Yunho said, inching away from his drink, then tentatively taking the cube from Minho’s palm. “But this thing recorded the ship exploding four days ago.”

Minho gripped Yunho’s shoulders tightly. “I talked to Changmin two days ago.”

It was etched across Yunho’s face, the desperate hope he had that Minho was telling the truth.

Minho made a choice to pull at Yunho right away. He tossed credit chips towards the barkeep, covering Yunho’s drinks, then led him out of the bar and to the slide street nearest them for privacy.

“Changmin said he’s been attempting to contact you since they managed to repair the ship’s communication’s systems.”

Yunho pressed in almost uncomfortably close to Minho, his eyes still a little wide. “The ship didn’t explode?”

Minho shook his head. “But there was an explosion. Changmin wasn’t clear about why or how, but I know it knocked out everything from propulsion to navigation, and even life support for a while. They had to jump start the engine, and it knocked them quite far away. Yunho, I swear to you, Changmin is alive. He--woah!”

Minho had to dive forward a little to catch Yunho as his knees finally unlocked and he threatened to go crashing down. Yunho was heavy, full of muscle and dead weight, but he only needed a second before he was helping Minho support himself.

“He’s alive,” Yunho gasped out. “Changmin is alive. The ship didn’t explode.”

Minho finally let go of Yunho and leveled the recorder box up. “I bet when that explosion on the ship happened, this box ended up in space along with parts of the ship. The box doesn’t think for itself, Yunho. It can’t even analyze its own data. It only records what its been told to. It would show an explosion. It would give you information to make you think the ship was destroyed.”

All this time, Minho realized. All this time Yunho had been thinking that not only had he lost his ship and his crew, but his brother.

It was no wonder he’d been thoroughly attempting to drink himself to death.

“Changmin’s alive,” Yunho repeated, and he was saying it over and over, like a mantra he couldn’t quite accept yet.

Minho offered, “You want to talk to him?”

Yunho froze.

Now that his future brother in law wasn’t looking quite so fragile, Minho felt safe pulling him along again, towards the hotel he’d planned to stay at until his Alliance transport picked him up the following day. “Come on. We’ll need to use the hotel’s communication’s terminal to get a signal to him. He’s pretty far away, on Caprix.”

“Caprix?” Yunho asked, walking along like he was on autopilot. “Oh, of course he is. Leeteuk’s alive too. He would know to go there. They’re waiting for me.”

Minho grinned at him, his stomach finally starting to settle down. “Let him yell at you a little, okay? He surely will the second he sees you. You really scared him, Yunho. Like I’ve never seen before.”

They were walking at a steady pace, faces flying by them as Yunho promised, “He can yell at me all he wants.”

It was obvious as long as Changmin was on the other end of the screen, alive and breathing, Yunho would clearly take whatever kind of lashing Changmin had ready for him.

And thrash him Changmin did.

Minho took a step back from Yunho as he made his call, offering the illusion of privacy, but could still hear every word.

Changmin’s voice was rushed and a bit pitchy as he snapped out, “--sitting around a bar? Jung Yunho, who do you think you are? Do you have any idea what I was thinking? I am going to strangle the inconsideration out of--”

Minho moved even further away.

Changmin and Yunho talked for fifty-five minutes, something that ate up a good deal of credits on Minho’s end, but it was worth it in the end for the way Yunho looked like life had been breathed into him, and Changmin grinned at Minho like he’d just earned himself uncountable bonus points.

Yunho drank buckets of coffee after that, to try and counteract the alcohol while Minho met Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi for the first time.

Zhou Mi was a calm, almost plain man that did nothing to catch his interest, but he supposed Kyuhyun made up for that by reminding him of Changmin in far too many ways.

“He’s marrying you?” Kyuhyun said, his eyes still a touch bit red, the only evidence that he’d cried the moment he’d heard the ship hadn’t exploded.

Minho laughed, “Why is that the reaction several people have had?”

Kyuhyun shrugged, then said, “You seem kind of boring, to be honest.”

“Then don’t I balance Changmin out?” Minho replied.

“Or settle him down a bit,” Zhou Mi said, arms around Kyuhyun playfully. “I understand the dynamic well.”

An hour later wedding invitations had been extended to the duo, something that Minho felt better doing formally instead of just verbally, but thought for sure it was something that Changmin would have pressed for long before the actual date, so it was more like taking care of business than anything else. And sixteen hours later they were on the Alliance ship Margot, jetting towards Caprix as fast as he powerful engines could take them.

This time around Minho still needed his dose of Dramamine for the nausea, but the flight left him feeling much less anxious, despite being housed with Yunho, Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi in the guest quarters for the journey.

“Woah,” Kyuhyun said from his position at the huge windows in the room. He’d been there for the entire duration they’d been moving. “This is awesome. Mi, what do you think the chances are of me getting onto the bridge? I have to see the controls for this ship in person.”

“Slim to absolutely none,” Zhou Mi said calmly from next to him.

“I want to thank you.”

Minho looked instinctively towards Yunho’s voice, the Captain sitting opposite him and almost looking like himself. Or at least what Minho remembered him looking like.

Not trying to sound rude, Minho did have to tell him, “I didn’t do this for you. You know I did it for Changmin.”

Yunho shook his head, but there was grin on his face. “I didn’t mean for this. I mean, thank you for this too. I … I always knew Changmin was the most important person in the ‘verse to me. I always knew that if anything happened to him … I would …”

“You don’t have to say it,” Minho said, because he already knew. He loved Changmin in a different way Yunho did, but they both felt the same about what his death would do to them.

Appreciative for the words, Yunho continued, “I mean thank you for being what Changmin needs. For loving him and supporting him, and giving him what I’ve always wanted him to have.”

Minho told Yunho happily, “You don’t need to thank me for loving Changmin. It’s … instinctual. It’s unavoidable.”

Yunho’s eyes narrowed appraisingly. “But you’re a good man. You’re better than most. And I don’t think I need to tell you I don’t reckon anyone will ever be good enough for Changmin, but you might be as close as it’s going to get.”

“Then we get your blessing?” Minho asked, because if this sort of thing didn’t bond a couple of guys, he didn’t know what did. “For the wedding.”

Yunho supposed, “Changmin really and truly loves you. And earning love from Changmin isn’t so easy. I think he’d marry you anyway, even if I didn’t support the two of you.”

“Nah,” Minho argued in a friendly way, “he wouldn’t. But thanks anyway.”

“I have got to get one of these!” Kyuhyun proclaimed loudly. Minho could see faint bruising around his neck almost like he’d been grabbed by someone, but he knew it couldn’t have been Yunho, and it seemed incredible unlikely it had been Zhou Mi.

“Trusting my little brother to someone, Minho, even someone who loves him as much as you do, isn’t any easy thing,” Yunho told him.

“You wouldn’t be a good big brother if it was.” Minho shrugged.

Yunho gave a huff of a laugh and in that moment Minho knew without a doubt that he’d won the man over.

They were going to be family.

It surprised Minho how much the thought pleased him.