I love woogi very much hence this is my only contribution that i am capable of giving with regards to them. i dont write as often anymore, but I hope everyone enjoyed this a tad bit, if not hated it. Inspired by a particularly difficult day  i had in the clinic.

I do apologize for any typos. I'm a very bad proofreader.

Enjoy!

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It was four hours later when wooyoung finally found the opportunity to give himself a break.

It had been hectic since the morning of his shift, and he wanted nothing more than to go home. With three of his patients being absent to the clinic, and having to replace his coworker's shift who quit their job without further warning – there was only so much that wooyoung could do in a short span of an hour when he came to the clinic at eight in the morning with so much information to take in.

For one, the clinic he worked in didn't exactly offered the best kind of employee welfare, and if it wasn't obvious enough from the way his coworker quit their job unannounced – it could be seen pretty evidently on wooyoung's eyes (and the pause, and the sigh, and the meaningless stare towards the clinic door) every day he checked in for work, before wiping everything off his face to step in as any other clinician would, and greet the people at the front counter with a smile.

Now, after seeing four patients in a row with no break, with another coming in since he had to replace the spot of his now gone coworker (wooyoung was pretty sure this was illegal and
Not the way to go, but well, the establishment had always been one to prioritise their patients in the wrong ways), wooyoung slumped back against the office chair, tilting his head back as he rubbed his eyes. Maybe he felt his vision blurring, maybe he even felt some hot tears in his eyes, but perhaps it was just the two hour sleep he got last night from trying to finish the paperwork for his patients.

A cold sensation on his forehead caused him to yelp, and when he opened his eyes, there was an apple juice can being held over his eyes by a way too familiar hand; Seonghwa.

"Here," his experienced coworker, a year his senior, offered. "You look like shit."

Wooyoung meekly smiles and takes the can of juice, popping it open as he gulps the liquid down. It had just occurred to him that he hadn't had anything to eat before he stepped into the clinic. His stomach grumbles at the thought.

"I'm sorry I couldn't take over some of your patients today – I'm so sorry for what happened," Seonghwa offers an apologetic look, knowing from experience how awful it was that Wooyoung had to do so much in such a short amount of time. Sure, their previous coworker may have left their therapy plans and the patient's files were neatly filled with detailed information from previous sessions – but it didn't eliminate the fact that wooyoung had so much to go through in one hour for four patients; one hour for each.

"Yeah well," Wooyoung smacks his lips. "Shit happens."

"I would have offered to help if I could, but I had extra patients to do sessions with today myself," Seonghwa sighs disappointedly. If there was anyone in the world who knew more about the speech clinic, it would be Seonghwa; a result of the five years of experience he had of working in the establishment – the outcome of getting a scholarship from the same establishment and now having to pay it back. In the worst working conditions possible.

Wooyoung only smiles. He knows Seonghwa is hanging in there himself. And hey – work isn't always bad – it's always rewarding to help children and adults alike; there is an indescribable joy in being able to teach a child to spontaneously call their parents for the first time, and the triumph in being able to provide a different communication system for those who could no longer verbally talk, and the swell of pride in him when he's able to make the experience of someone who was transitioning even better, just by teaching them how to alternate their vocal cords. There is so much to look forward to in the field of helping people, and yet establishments like these – which overwork their employees to the brim in refusal to take new interns, who blame you when the patient doesn't make expected progress, and ignore the complaints you have when you reach out to human resources – is what ruins the profession; a job both Wooyoung and Seonghwa love very much.

"It's all good, hyung," Wooyoung offers him a reassuring smile and says. "In fact, I'm looking forward to the day your contract ends."

Seonghwa laughs at the statement, "Well there's only a few more months until I can just not sign the contract anymore. It's a very convenient motivation that keeps me going more than you think." And it's true. Wooyoung thinks that if it weren't for Seonghwa's optimistic mindset, he wouldn't have been able to work in the establishment for five years. Wooyoung thinks that if it were him; he'd rather just work at another establishment and pay the scholarship back in cash. But Seonghwa was stronger than him, and wooyoung admired his senior coworker very much for it.

"Good work today, Wooyoung-ah." Seonghwa says, and for a moment Wooyoung feels his eyes sting, as much as he hates to admit it. It was in these rare moments of vulnerability that he wished he could have persevered through the day better, but in the end he is only human. And humans don't like their weakness being on display for others to see – so Wooyoung does what he does best; he swallows down the sting, and gives Seonghwa a scoff, "You should tell San he owes me five big macs and a ticket to the new spiderman movie."

Seonghwa chuckles, but it quickly gets replaced with a serious tone, "It was still kinda shitty of San to just quit without notice, though. He could've stayed for one last session – or maybe let you know beforehand about this."

Wooyoung stares at his feet. The formal leather shoes he had been wearing to the clinic from the very first year he worked here has been through so much with him (quite literally; from sprained ankles from tripping over toys to children vomiting all over his shoes, the list is quite endless really) has suddenly looked so much more worn out than wooyoung had thought; and perhaps that's how his current state of mind feels like – his current state of being, even. "I don't really blame him for it, though," Wooyoung says thoughtfully, thinking of his very cheeky of a coworker San – who entered the clinic as a fresh graduate in the same year he did, and they quickly became chummy because of it – who never showed what he was going through on his face, even on his hardest days. "I think I respect him for doing it, actually – quitting. It's not the right thing to do for the patients, but I trust him enough to know that he didn't just do it for no reason."

Seonghwa hums at his words, perhaps in agreement, as he knows how much of a hard worker San is – so cheerful, so patient – almost the first one to greet new patients at the clinic entrance even if they weren't his. So yes, perhaps Wooyoung was right; maybe San
was going through a lot at the moment, and that his notice of quitting without a pay was enough to speak of how he felt about the establishment; not even the love for his patients could help him persevere this time.

"Don't forget the department meeting at two," Seonghwa gets up from his seat after a quick glance at his watch. Wooyoung slaps his forehead.

"I totally forgot about it, thanks," Wooyoung nods, then laughs – as seonghwa jokingly bows just like royalty out of courtesy, and leaves the room.

With the sudden silence embracing the space, wooyoung thinks about how he still has a long day to go before he can go home.

(Home; where he can smell the waft of dried persimmons he hung from his kitchen cabinet; where he can spot the crumple of the familiar grey hoodie thrown over the chair of his work desk; where he can trace the evidence of his beloved's presence in the two coffee mugs seated next to the coffee pot on the dining table; and if he walks further down the hall and into the bedroom where he shares with his beloved, he would see Mingi – curled on his grey bedsheets and under the weighted blanket, snoring away.)

***

The meeting took three hours of his time – three hours of his superiors just barking at each other over problems that were never going to be solved. Beside him sat seonghwa, who was massaging his temples; equally disturbed at how much time they were wasting in the meeting, with no solution whatsoever to their problems. Wooyoung thinks that this scene reminded him a lot of watching a livestream of the parliament; of politicians just throwing personal attacks towards the other questioning their qualifications and their personal beliefs with no relation to the matter at hand; followed by mingi glancing at the screen, rolling his eyes and walking away in the manner he always does when it's about the government on tv.

Just when he thought it was over, wooyoung gets called over by one of his supervisors to her office where she mentioned they had matters to discuss. Seonghwa looked at him warily, worried. even offered if wooyoung wanted him to come along – but wooyoung knew that the elder was just as tired as he was, and there was nothing more in the world than everyone wanted than to just go home. Besides, it could be a personal matter, wooyoung reassures him, and so he waves a hesitant seonghwa goodbye – whose strides seemed quicker than usual, to pack up his things and go.

But for whatever reason he had been called into the supervisor's office was not what he had been expecting. Wooyoung was asked again and again if he knew of san's reason for leaving, if he knew anything that bordered along the lines of personal reasons, even. And suddenly it was him that was being blamed for san's leave – why didn't you stop him? Shouldn't you have known as a fellow coworker if he had any problems with the clinic? It's your responsibility to let HR know if he had any issues, yeah? I'm pretty sure we went over this before you started your job; i'm quite disappointed in you, wooyoung-ssi; knowing that you were san's best friend here – followed by the sudden additional workload to his coming days – and since we don't have enough clinicians here thanks to san's leave, i'll have to put more patients into your days and seonghwa;s too; you can go through the patients' files before you go home – and that was it. No apology; not even the tone of an apology. So that's exactly what wooyoung – upset as he is – does, as he flip through the pages of the new patients' information, file after file, and by the time he reached the last one, it was seven in the evening.

By eight, while he took the bus home, he gets a call from his mother, asking if he knew why san had left. He saves the surprise of his mom knowing what had happened, knowing that their moms were very close to each other ever since they visited each others homes during the holidays – and he also saves the tears that were pooling in his eyes, and the heavy, cloudy lump in his throat that could be faintly heard in his voice when his mother genuinely, genuinely asked if he was doing okay.

"I'm okay, mom." and well; what else could wooyoung – a stubborn man who doesn't want his mom to know of how bad his day was no matter how bad it is, just so she could sleep at night and not spend her days worried over his troubles – answer?

When wooyoung finally takes off his leather shoes and shrugs off his padded coat to hang in the hallway, the hands of the clock showed that it was nine. He notes that one of the dried persimmons hanging off the cabinet had disappeared; evident in the lonely end of the string hanging from the kitchen cabinet, and he stares at it affectionately. Mingi had been the first to taste them, and it makes his heart swell with love. It had been the result of mingi mentioning that he's never tasted dried persimmons before; had never really had the chance to make them; didn't really know how to; and that they never really dried as good in the area where he lived. And so this winter, wooyoung was determined (and more than excited) to show him what it tasted like and how to make them; and he remembers the text he got from mingi in between his shift, asking if he could taste them first, to which wooyoung argues that they would be finished by the time wooyoung came home, jokingly. Still, wooyoung tells him that he would be more than elated to allow mingi to have the honors first.

Wooyoung skips the routine of dropping by the bedroom where mingi was probably sleeping in; the tall man tired from his shift which started in the wee hours of the morning and ended at odd hours of the evening (he worked for a company which was based off somewhere overseas, hence the odd working hours he had to be up at even if the company is flexible enough to allow work from home). He strides towards his workspace, slumps down on his wheelie chair, and stares at the files he had brought home; more things to key in to the patient's e-files, and more paperwork to be done for his shift tomorrow. He lets out a long sigh, heavy and exhausted, and begins typing away.

***

When mingi's alarm went off at 3am; he was quick to notice that there was the absence of a familiar weight next to where he slept; usually huddled up close to him for warmth, or sometimes accompanied by a pair of arms which loosely wrapped around his waist, legs dangled together under he blanket; save the extra heat from their malfunctioning heater to keep them warm. Sleep still in his eyes, mingi palms the space next to him in an attempt to find the familiar arms and guide them around his waist, but they were nowhere to be felt.

Concerned, mingi finally rubs his eyes open to look around in the dimly lit room illuminated by the headlights outside their apartment. Wooyoung was nowhere to be seen.

Stumbling as he trips over some of his clothes he had strewn on the floor prior to sleeping, mingi manages to safely wobble out of his room and into the living room space of their shared apartment. In the dark, the outline of a human body on the desk of wooyoung;s workspace could be seen – illuminated by the blue light from the laptop. Mingi walks over to where the body sat; head slumped over his arms and elbow pressing over several keys on the keyboard – leaving an endless amount of 'k's to be produced in paragraphs and paragraphs and pages on screen. Mingi softly laughs at how ridiculous wooyoung looks, and it was all that he needed to have enough energy to quietly rush back to their room and grab his phone; snapping a few pictures of his lover to show it to him in the morning.

Mingi gently drags the laptop from under wooyoung's elbow and briefly scrolls through the document – he had no idea how long wooyoung had been asleep like this but there were around ten pages just filled with the letter 'k' – and mingi reminds himself to help delete them after he makes coffee.

It was a weird scene to be making coffee at three in the morning; which is why most of the time mingi opts for the thin packets of instant coffee as opposed to the black coffee machine they have in their kitchen, glossy and expensive; sitting in all of its glory at the corner of the kitchen counter. It was one of wooyoung's wishes to have one of his own right after they got their shared apartment – and when mingi had finally gotten his fifth paycheck, he was quick to buy one for wooyoung's birthday. And while they haven't been using it as much due to the odd hours of their working schedules on the weekdays, on weekends it was filled with the aromatic waft of coffee beans from the kitchen to their bedroom, to the balcony where mingi sat, scrolling through his emails in the morning, waiting for wooyoung to join him with two mugs of coffee in hand – one with an extra spoonful of sugar the way he likes it.

So yes – while wooyoung still does scold mingi for opting for the cheap instant coffee packets instead of using their sexy, expensive black latex donner dominatrix in the form of a coffee machine – wooyoung's words, not his – mingi can't bring himself to opt for better coffee in exchange for waking his wooyoung up at the odd hours of the morning after a tiring day, not when mingi liked to stare at wooyoung sleeping (affectionately – and not like a creep as jongho seems to think) while he has his daily caffeine intake, and that it reminded him of the first few times they had met which had led wooyoung to fall asleep on his lap unconsciously, after many hours of studying. And of course, since mingi was the one who fell first; he couldn't bring himself to wake wooyoung up even if he couldn't feel his thigh anymore – and these moments where wooyoung was deep in his slumber would remind him of those older days.

This time, however, mingi gets up after setting the now empty mug of his coffee on the table, gently tapping wooyoung on the arm.

"Hey," he tries, now placing his entire hand on wooyoung's arm. "Woo."

Wooyoung stirs at the name, seems to give a response, although it seems more of a gurgled sound than an actual hum, and pries his eyes open slowly. He stares at mingi for a second, then shoots up in a shock, looking around in a daze. Mingi thinks he must've been really exhausted.

"You fell asleep on the laptop," mingi places his grey jacket on wooyoung's shoulders, although it wasn't really needed knowing how he would escort wooyoung back to bed under much warmer covers. "Somebody was typing out a really long and emotional essay about the alphabet 'k'." wooyoung is still dazed from his sleep, but he rolls his eyes when he finally remembers what he was doing before conveniently passing out while writing his second report of the day. "Come on – you should go to bed."

Wooyoung only complies, takes himself wherever his feet takes him (more so wherever mingi takes him, holding him by his shoulders as they walk together into the bedroom). He watches as mingi adjusts the covers, and then motions him to lie down. It was when mingi tucks him under the covers and switches off the bedside lamp next to their bed that wooyoung finally says something, "You're not staying?"

Mingi turns around, plants his feet back in place instead of walking out the door. He leans against the bedframe, "I'll be outside." He says, almost matter-of-factly. His intentions were kind, but it only comes out sounding more like a question than a statement – mingi's attempt at deciphering what wooyoung actually wanted.

"Hm," the sleepier one hums in response.

Both men look at each other in silence; wooyoung's eyes heavy with sleep, but almost questioning in a way, perhaps even pleading – and mingi; maybe wooyoung could give him some credit for trying – returns the gaze with a smile; slightly confused but also calculating. He steps back inside the room and plants himself by the foot of the bed right next to where wooyoung lay. The younger huddles backwards, giving more room for his larger than life boyfriend the space he needs.

"You're not gonna ask how my day went?" Wooyoung asks. A very gentle offering. kind, kind words placed as the hint on the table for mingi to read. And it was small cues like these that mingi truly appreciates; it wasn't easy for him to read what people thought. He had been known to take things as they are and to not probe further unless the other party says something, and at times it came off as...rude. Inconsiderate, even – at least that was what his previous partners had said – but wooyoung understands. Wooyoung always understands – and they've worked their way into a relationship with many thanks to him.

Mingi thinks wooyoung is the living (walking, running, breathing,) embodiment of love; and if there was anyone in the world who was filled to the brim with unconditional affection, it would be wooyoung – and he was not afraid to show it to others, regardless of who they were. It's electrifying, almost; how someone could easily offer everyone everything they had even when they had just first met; and when mingi experienced the home in which wooyoung had managed to make him feel; safe and comforting and everything that was in between the small space they had shared underneath the bus stop when it was raining heavily right before a class they were late to; it was difficult to stop craving for that warmth; much, much harder to let go.

"You want to tell me about your day?" Mingi learns, understands, and applies it almost immediately as he does with everything else about wooyoung. At times like these; when wooyoung gets a tad bit needier with him, Mingi is aware that he needs some comforting. So he brushes the hair out of wooyoung's eyes, fiery red strands (it's amazing how the clinic still hasn't fired him for it yet), smoothes them back against his forehead, and lies down in the space wooyoung has made for him. It's welcoming, wooyoung's presence, and when the younger asks, "You don't have to time-in to your job?"

Mingi just shrugs and smiles, "I do. After I ask about your day."

And the smile wooyoung offers next is priceless, cheeks rising into full rounds and eyes drowsy with affection. His hand shifts under the blanket and find its way to mingi's; and they lace their fingers together. It's perfect like this. It's always perfect with mingi.

"So," Mingi starts, shifting closer, closing the space between them. "Anything you're comfortable with telling me?"

"San left the clinic," Wooyoung mumbles. Mingi only waits for him to continue, even if it was something that he wasn't too surprised about – he's heard only so much about their workplace. And it can't really be good if even someone like san had left.

"And they added more sessions to my day last minute so I was really tired," wooyoung goes on, speeding up the pace of his words in the same way he does when he's excited, only for this time to be monotonous. "And they kinda blamed me for San leaving. And now I have overtime and less time to finish documents before I leave. Which means I'll have to bring work home. Which means I'll have less time to spend – with you."

Mingi furrowed his brow, "Wow, they- they really blamed you for that?" Wooyoung only nods.

"I feel like shit today, Mingi," wooyoung says through a pout, and though it wasn't meant to be cute, mingi found it endearingly so. The grip on his hands tighten, to which mingi gives a reassuring squeeze in return, a sign that he was listening. "They added more patients to me at the last minute so what could I have done, really? They weren't familiar with me, so of course they'd be crying – and there wasn't much that I could do about it, although it's been two years and five months and sixty five days since I've graduated, I don't really have the powerpoint slide about how to stop a kid that's upset because i've interrupted their routine."

It's so expressive, the way Wooyoung talks about his worries, almost eloquent, even. Witty, yet still manages to get the point across that he's upset. Mingi mentally shoots himself in the stomach for falling harder at this moment, which is a moment where he isn't really supposed to.

"Can I hug you?" wooyoung asks softly, so uncharacteristically timid of him. Maybe it was the 3a.m. kicking in; since usually wooyoung would fling all four limbs onto mingi and hang from him like a baby koala that wants to show off its climbing skills at any other hour of the day. Still, it doesn't stop mingi from scooting closer and pulling wooyoung's arms to wrap them around him, placing his chin on the top of wooyoung's head. He smells like citrus, mingi thinks; the culprit being himself when he had picked the wrong scent of the green tea shampoo that they usually use (to which wooyoung had complained; "It doesn't match well with my perfume!" and mingi, amused as he was, had replied with; "your perfume smells like my dad.") and picked the citrus one instead. But it still smelled pleasant to mingi. Everything about wooyoung was his home.

Buried in the taller male's broad chest was wooyoung's face, planted right in the middle; and he showed no plans on moving even when his voice came out muffled when he said, "Today was an awful day; and I seriously don't want to get out of bed tomorrow morning."

"You mean today." Mingi responds, matter-of-factly. He laughs when he could feel wooyoung;s eyeroll. He knows them by heart.

"You're mean." Wooyoung whines.

"And you're amazing."

"Amazing is a pretty subjective word to use to comfort me, Min."

"No, really," Mingi nuzzles his chin on wooyoung's head, gently. "Amazing, because I can't find any other word that could describe everything that you are. And I think it's okay and perfectly human for amazing people to have bad days."

"I don't think youre getting the point – I don't think this is just another bad d-"

"I do, woo. I do," Mingi pats the small of wooyoung's back, sighing. "I'm only saying, because I know there are certain circumstances where you just become helpless because of things you can't control; like San leaving, and the awful people at your workplace who blame you, and god do I hate your workplace; if I had any chance to get you out of there, I would. My point is," mingi separates himself from wooyoung to look down at him, where he lay so small in mingi's arm, perfectly fitting into where he was; like those arms were just made for him, and how he was made just for Mingi. "That I think you'll power through another day just like the best clinician in the clinic that you are. It's okay to be upset over things. It's okay to not have good sessions. It's okay to feel like you want to beat the shit out of your coworkers. It's okay to want to leave just like San did."

"But most importantly, you need to keep going for the kids you're seeing – because they're the reason why you chose to do this, right?"

"Mm."

"And think about it – they'll be upset if their Mr. Woo is no longer at the clinic in the middle of their therapy block, yeah? No proper goodbye whatsoever. Right?"

"Mm."

"And before you report your workplace to a law firm or whatever authority that I have no idea who governs – let's finish what you started for the kids. Okay?"

"Okay."

Mingi pressed a kiss on his forehead, "That's the wooyoung I know."

"And maybe I'll ask seonghwa-hyung to take some of my share of san's patients," Wooyoung says thoughtfully, clear that he has pondered over the matter. "I hope he doesnt mind."

"I'm sure he won't," Mingi knows that Seonghwa is nothing but a kind soul. Who else would offer to work overtime for wooyoung when he was down with the flu for an entire week? "As long as you let him know about it." Wooyoung hums in agreement.

"I don't even remember what I was upset about anymore." Wooyoung laughs as if everything he had ever felt awful bout before being in this moment had melted away, the same way he did in Mingi's arms, just like this. As if the thought of signing the quitting papers or whatever you called it had not crossed his mind the exact moment he walked past the clinic counter on the way home. Wooyoung thinks about the times he's felt his eyes sting throughout the day, and the way he's swallowed them down with a smile or a pretend-sneeze, but for some reason even if he hadn't had the chance to let them out today, he doesn't feel like he needs to, not anymore.

"But seriously – once your therapy block for all your patients end you are so quitting that place." mingi says, almost threateningly. "That place doesn't deserve you."

"Really?" Wooyoung looks up at him again, this time with the all-too-familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. "You think I deserve better?"

"Only the best," Mingi continues. "Nothing less for the best student in the department."

Wooyoung snorts, "Says the person who graduated with a dean's list."

Mingi raised his eyebrow, "Yeah? And you're trying to say you didn't get the award for the best final year project?"

"Right. I totally forgot about that."

"You were really hot for that."

Wooyoung gets up and rolls onto Mingi's stomach, "Really? You think I'm hot?"

As much as he hated when wooyoung breaks into a full hearty cackle at times like that, Mingi couldn't hide his full toothed grin either. Wooyoung takes it all – the fondness in Mingi's eyes, the beautiful bridge of his nose, and the crooked tooth that becomes more prominent once Mingi smiles, full and sincere – and it doesn't take long before wooyoung finds himself leaning up to meet mingi's lips, taking in the smile of his beloved as much as he can, and presses further when he feels the smile through their kiss.

"Very," Mingi says through a chuckle when wooyoung pulls away, only to be greeted by an aggressive cheek rub and a wet, sloppy kiss on the cheek where mingi's dot lies, right beneath the eye. "Go to sleep!" he protests, wiggling away from wooyoung's grip.

"Fuck, I totally forgot," Wooyoung gets up from where he lay, leaning on his right elbow that was propped up on one of the pillows. "I didn't get to finish the reports for today."

"Sleep first," Mingi presses him back down onto the bed, as funny as it sounded. "I'll wake you up before seven – promise. Think you can cram in an hour?"

Wooyoung beams up at Mingi, "I love you."

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woogi. throws up

posted this on ao3 and thought that i wanted to share this here, too! thank you for sticking around!

- cee/fira