Chapter Text
Never in the whole course of recorded history had a man wearing flamingo print swim shorts looked as miserable as Mingi was looking right now. The melting piña colada with the little pink umbrella just added the final touch of dissonance. You walked over to him and gently removed the tepid cocktail from his unprotesting hand.
"Parties are supposed to be fun, honey. You gonna tell me what's up?"
His eyes dipped to the grooved tiles at the poolside.
"Nothing's up. I'm fine, baby," he said dully.
"We've been together way too long for you to possibly still believe you're a convincing liar. Give it up."
Your hands wrapped around his waist. Even in your heels, he towered above you. His collarbone was all you could reach for a kiss.
He caved, weak for your affectionate attention, but he still wouldn't meet your eye.
"It's stupid. I'm embarrassed," he muttered.
"Come on, you can tell me anything."
There was a raucous howl and a splash as your cousin's boyfriend cannoned into the deep end. Mingi looked across at the hyped-up, sweaty crowd on the dancefloor. The crowd you'd been part of until you realised you hadn't seen your boyfriend in quite a while.
"Not here," he squirmed.
You tugged him around the corner behind the bar. The cacophony of house music and yelled conversations muted a little. He leaned against the concrete wall, his golden skin illuminated by the fading light of the summer evening, and sighed hopelessly.
"I'm the worst person in the world."
"Never knowingly less than dramatic." You rolled your eyes at him lovingly. "I'm sure it's not that bad."
"I... we never... this is..." he stumbled. "Well, it's more difficult than..." He wasn't giving you much to go on. Finally, he flung out his hand and gestured at you.
"You look hot!" he burst out desperately.
You were lost, and your confused frown told him so.
"People are... people are looking," he hissed out. "At you. And I shouldn't care, but I do, and - and I'm sorry."
"Plenty of people are checking you out too, sweetie. Your physique is... extremely eye-catching."
You smiled at him but he didn't smile back.
"That's not... I mean, I don't wanna sound vain but, like... I do know that. It's not about that."
His unhappiness was starting to worry you.
"What is it about?" you asked gently.
"I refuse to be the kind of absolute jerk that tells their girlfriend to cover up! You can wear whatever the fuck you like - it's not for me to decide, is it?" His voice cracked with anguish. "I trust you, baby. So why is it so fucking hard to get my head right? Am I really that much of an asshole?"
Understanding hit you like a splash of cold water. He wasn't mad at you. That would have been an easy fix. A soft I'm sorry, honey always got him folding like tissue. He was mad at himself, frustrated about his own insecurities. If you didn't snap him out of this quickly, he'd be spiralling for days. Reasoning with him wouldn't help. You knew that from experience. His self-reproaches didn't respond well to logic.
You also knew that if you suggested going, he'd dig his heels in. No party meant shit to you compared to Mingi's happiness and comfort. You'd leave in a heartbeat. But if he thought he'd ruined your night, it would give him another reason to blame himself. He needed something different. And you were going to give it to him.
"You're not a jerk. Ever. You need to stop talking about yourself like that."
Your tone slipped into a familiar sharpness that had him pricking up his ears like a dog that's heard dinner rattling into a bowl.
"Come on, follow me."
You clicked your fingers and stalked off, leaving him to scurry along obediently behind you, a beam of curiosity slicing through the heavy clouds of his sadness.