My Client's Former Best Friend | MEANIE/MINWON

Chapter Eleven.

Mingyu jerked awake, jostling his arm and hissing through his teeth. It was dark wherever he was. Armrests. A chair in front of him. A little window with the shade pulled down. He was on a motherfucking plane. Of all the places he'd woken up after a bender, this one took the cake.

He looked down at his arm. Someone had put it in a sling. Maybe they'd taken him to the hospital after all. In his dream, though, he remembered Junhui grabbing said arm while going on about research and then snapping the bone into place. No one had even offered him a drink for the pain. It must have been reality-in a dream, he would have at least gotten a morphine drip or a bottle of scotch.

The fact that he was on a plane had been established. The why and how and where-to remained mysteries. He peered around, the hazy glow of the emergency exits his only guide. It was night. Planes didn't turn off their lights during the day. Well done, deductive reasoning. It was night. On a plane. A private plane. Junhui's private plane, he guessed, given there were only two other passengers and the one on his right was Junhui.

Junhui had his seat leaned all the way back and was wearing earplugs and an eye mask. He was snoring. Wonwoo, in the seat in front of Mingyu, also leaned back, but without the sleep gear. He snored even louder.

Mingyu stood up to get a better look around but realized, halfway there, that he hadn't been sitting at all; his seat was reclined as well. And he was wearing a seatbelt. He fell back with a smack and a groan that did nothing to interrupt the REM cycles of his fellow passengers. No wonder the angles are all off. He undid the seatbelt the way the flight attendants always showed him to and sat up. Dizzy. His head felt like it was floating around in another hemisphere but hadn't bothered to invite his body along. He swung his legs over the side and stood. Wobbly, but functional. He stumbled forward, grabbing the back of Wonwoo's seat. Then he turned and faced the prone figure of his best friend. Perhaps he should start saying former best friend and get used to that now.

The plane jerked and he fell backwards into Wonwoo's lap. Wonwoo woke up with a shriek, just as Mingyu covered Wonwoo's mouth with his uninjured hand. Wonwoo glared at him and nipped his palm.

"That's not going to work on me, sweetheart. I have sisters," Mingyu said. He felt Wonwoo close his mouth, his lips barely touching him. Mingyu lowered his hand.

"Get off me," Wonwoo growl-whispered.

"In a moment. I'm not very steady yet." Actually, he couldn't feel his legs. He knew they were there because he could see them, but they weren't responding to his brain. "Where are we?"

"You're really heavy. I can't feel my legs." Wonwoo gave him a push.

"Me neither. Scoot over, this is a huge seat." Mingyu nudged Wonwoo to the right side and maneuvered his own body between Wonwoo and the armrest, his left arm on top. They ended up half lying next to each other, with Mingyu's injured arm between them, like lovers in a hospital bed.

"Why am I doing this?" Wonwoo asked him.

"Because neither of our legs are working."

"Hmm. The feeling's coming back to mine."

Mingyu felt him move his legs experimentally. Wonwoo grimaced at the sting of renewed circulation. Mingyu's legs felt fine already but he wasn't going to mention that. Or move just yet.

"What the fuck were you doing?" Wonwoo asked him. They were so close together he could feel Wonwoo's breath on his face when he talked.

"I was trying to punch Jun in the face."

Wonwoo nodded a little. "Any particular reason?"

"This time? For kidnapping me and putting me on a plane in the middle of the night. Plus, the whole me-nearly-getting-murdered-in-his-house thing."