It’s been a long week. Everything feels far away to Minjae, soft and indistinct, like they’re viewing it from a distance. Like they’re living from a distance. There are some days when everything is okay, some weeks when they cope better than they thought possible, and then there are others. Others when they find they can’t cope, at least not in the ways that they like, and they go a bit numb after so much bullshit that they can’t handle it anymore. Right now, they feel like they’re detached from everything besides the weight of Bobby’s head in their lap, and the knowledge that Sunday is the best day of the week.
Whether they’re at their house with their family or at Quinn’s with their family, they know that it’s going to be good. Comfort and warmth and the feeling of home wraps them up tight, easing away the frustrations of the week.
Caught somewhere between sleep and consciousness, Minjae is aware when Quinn enters, but doesn’t immediately respond. Heavy eyelids lift, flutter, and their lips part a fraction around a breath. Long, delicate fingers are methodically carding through Bobby’s curls, and they brush against Quinn’s with a slight tingle of recognition when he touches, too. A smile curves up the corners of their mouth as they shift into a position more upright, shaking the drowsiness from themself. Or at least trying to. They don’t bother speaking aloud; they can’t really hear anyway, and it’d been other telling signs that had made them notice Quinn.
“About an hour.” They sign, movements as gentle as their expression. It’s clear they are okay with the situation. More than okay. “They are exhausted. They work too hard.” A small frown goes along with that, and Minjae cants their head to the side a bit, always expressive. Bleached hair falls over their forehead. The soft sounds their signing makes are not enough to disturb Bobby. They make sure of it, years of practice making it easy to accommodate. “We need to make them take a day off. Besides Sunday.”
when quinn first chose to educate himself in sign language, it hadn’t been through necessity or even prompted by knowing someone hard of hearing. he’d chosen to take on the task of learning multiple languages, and it’d seemed appropriate that that be one of them. a part of him had hoped bobby would learn with him, too, since their selective mutism and speech impediments have made it hard for the twins to communicate in times of extreme anxiety. it hadn’t happened immediately, but once quinn was adept enough to show bobby little things, they’d agreed to meet with someone who could help to teach them the rest.
neither of them have looked back since, and quinn thanks his lucky stars for having found minjae through it. as he watches them sign now, he finds it easy to keep up, translating it in his head the way he would if minjae was speaking french to him. his expression softens impossibly further when he learns of just how long the other has been trapped, the knowledge that they’re altogether unfazed by it adding to his fondness.
“good luck with that,” he both signs and speaks out loud at once, though his voice is so quiet he may as well be mouthing the words -- there’s no point to being louder, minjae won’t hear him either way and bobby is sleeping so peacefully it’d be a shame to disturb them. “they won’t listen to me when i suggest it, but maybe you’ll be able to work a miracle,” it’s clear that quinn thinks if anyone can, it’ll be minjae. “do you need rescuing, or would you like to nap with them whilst i make dinner?” he’s happy to accommodate either way, and he’s almost positive they could rescue minjae without disturbing bobby too much. they enjoy a good cuddle, but as sleepy as they clearly are, they’d probably settle for hugging a pillow.
