Mingled Round 🍭 ateez slash challenge [⏯]

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bottom!Yunho
Top!Hongjoong

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The scene couldn’t have been more humiliating if Yunho had scripted it himself. His suitcase had chosen the exact moment they reached the airport gate to explode, scattering his belongings across the shiny tile floor like confetti at a disaster-themed parade. Pineapple-print boxers hung from the shoulder strap of a businesswoman’s briefcase. His socks had scattered like landmines, and a rogue tube of toothpaste was rolling ominously toward a toddler’s outstretched hand.

Hongjoong stood over him, arms crossed, his face caught somewhere between pity and amusement. Yunho, crouched in the middle of the mess, looked up at him with a sheepish grin that was anything but convincing.

"I swear I zipped it," Yunho said, fumbling to shove a pair of jeans back into the suitcase. "This suitcase must have it out for me. Maybe it’s cursed."

Hongjoong raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Or maybe the universe is punishing you for packing seven pairs of pineapple boxers for a two-day trip."

Yunho froze, halfway through rescuing a rogue T-shirt. "First of all, they’re lucky pineapples. Second, how dare you."

Hongjoong crouched down and picked up one of the boxers, holding it between two fingers like it might be radioactive. "Lucky? These look like they belong on a reality show contestant trying to win a vacation to Hawaii."

"They’re practical," Yunho retorted, snatching the boxers out of Hongjoong’s hand. "And stylish."

"They’re crimes against humanity," Hongjoong muttered, smirking as he handed Yunho a wayward sock.

Five minutes later, they were no closer to getting the suitcase under control. Every time Yunho tried to zip it, another corner popped open, and Hongjoong was having way too much fun watching him struggle.

"I don’t need this kind of negativity," Yunho grumbled, jamming a bundle of socks into the suitcase with more force than necessary.

"You don’t need this kind of suitcase," Hongjoong countered. "When we get back, we’re buying you a new one. Preferably one that doesn’t have abandonment issues."

Yunho groaned and collapsed onto the floor, ignoring the scandalized stares of nearby passengers. "Just leave me here. I’ll live in the airport. Become one with the chaos."

"Drama king," Hongjoong said, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

"You’re not helping," Yunho pointed out, glaring up at him.

"I’m providing emotional support," Hongjoong said, leaning down to pluck a stray sock off his shoulder.

"Your version of emotional support involves laughing at me," Yunho grumbled.

"You’re not wrong," Hongjoong admitted, tossing the sock into the suitcase.

After much effort—and a few arguments—they managed to cram most of Yunho’s belongings into Hongjoong’s carry-on. The suitcase itself was relegated to a sad, deflated heap that Hongjoong carried under one arm like a defeated trophy.

As they made their way to the boarding gate, Yunho glanced over at Hongjoong, his voice quieter than usual. "Thanks for helping me, Joong."

Hongjoong looked at him, his teasing expression softening. "Don’t mention it. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t show up to this trip wearing nothing but pineapples."

Yunho laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "I mean it, though. You always have my back."

"Of course I do," Hongjoong said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

On the plane, Yunho fell asleep almost immediately, his head lolling onto Hongjoong’s shoulder. Hongjoong didn’t move, even though his arm was starting to go numb. He glanced down at Yunho, his face peaceful in sleep, and felt a familiar tug in his chest.

Yunho was chaos incarnate, but he was also warmth and laughter and everything Hongjoong didn’t realize he needed. He sighed softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from Yunho’s forehead.

"Chaos and all," he murmured to himself, "you’re still worth coming back for."

The corners of his mouth twitched upward as he added, "Even if it means dealing with pineapple boxers."