Chapter Text
It’s only a week and a half later when Hyunjin gets the email.
He’s scrolling down his social media feed in bed when the notification banner comes down, says:
Inbox: Lee Minho, KIN PE 50 Beginning Surfi…
He berates himself when he clicks the email so fast that he almost ends up dropping his phone straight onto his face. It’s probably just one of those automated emails or something.
But when he opens it up, that doesn’t end up being the case.
Dear Hyunjin, I’m emailing you and everyone else to let you know the grading criteria has changed for the class. Earlier I told you students would be graded purely on effort and attendance, but the university has informed me that I need to use some measure of progress at the end of the semester and add it to the gradebook. Sorry about the sudden changes. And I hope this doesn’t discourage you from continuing the class.
Minho
He stares at the message with a smile. It doesn’t fail to cross Hyunjin’s mind that Minho could have sent one generic email about the grading changes to the whole class. But he sent one directly to Hyunjin. He chuckles a little at the formal tone of the email before pressing reply to type out a response.
Hello Mr. Lee, I appreciate you taking the time to clarify that your goal this semester is to completely sabotage my grade and transcript. Thanks for the heads up!
But you should know that email isn’t the best way to contact me.
I’ve attached my phone number below for more convenient contact purposes. (Strictly to discuss more academic information.)
Sincerely, Hyunjin (from your surfing class)
He hopes the ‘from your surfing class’ part comes across as unserious as he means for it to. And with a tap, he sends the email.
His phone dings with a text less than five minutes later. And he can’t help the victorious smile and the small giggle he lets out when he reads the message.
Unknown Number
you think you’re so funny
Hyunjin
I do actually
Minho
but seriously, you’re not gonna drop the class are you?
Hyunjin
u severely underestimate how much I enjoy annoying you and the rest of the class with my abominable skills
Minho
yea you definitely annoy me. I absolutely dread having to see you hwang hyunjin
Hyunjin
aw
I dread having to see you too minho
Minho
no you dont
you love seeing my pretty face
Hyunjin falls into a small laughing fit at the unexpected message. It is a really pretty face , Hyunjin thinks. He thinks if Minho’s going to flirt with him unapologetically, he might as well do it back.
Hyunjin
u caught me :/
Hyunjin
actually that’s pretty much the only reason why I go to class
He watches in amusement as the typing symbol appears a few times and then disappears before he gets the next text.
Minho
wait
are u saying u only like me for my face?
my feelings are hurt
Hyunjin
woah, woah I never said I liked you, calm down there mr. lee
He watches once again as Minho’s indecisiveness shows in the form of the typing bubbles appearing and reappearing for a while. Then they go away completely. He bites his lip and prepares to type out another message, but then the typing bubble reappears.
Minho
have you eaten?
Hyunjin sits up in a moment. He glances at the time which reads 9:46pm .
Of course he’s eaten. Who hasn’t eaten by this hour?
Hyunjin
no
have u?
Minho
nope. not yet
Hyunjin
and you’re asking me this because…
Minho
would you be so benevolent as to come over and keep me company for dinner?
Hyunjin feels a burst of nerves, or excitement, or both appear in his stomach. Minho wants him to come over? So they can have dinner together?
Hyunjin
right now?
Minho
Yea. I’ll even let you stare at my very pretty face while I prepare the food
Hyunjin
now that is an offer I can’t refuse
Hyunjin
send the addy and im there
Minho
addy???
Hyunjin
it's the slang kids use these days !!
Hyunjin hops up to rummage through his drawers before deciding to put on a button up top and a pair of jeans. Then he rethinks the whole thing when he looks in the mirror. It's late and they're going to have dinner at Minho’s place. Casual is probably the way to go.
So Hyunjin is in a muscle tee that’s too loose to be considered anything more than a slip of fabric and a pair of baggy jeans when he’s closing the door to his bedroom, making sure the click is quieter than a mouse.
He tiptoes to the front door only to find out his stealthy moves were all for nothing when he turns to see Seungmin laying across the couch on his phone giving him a look that says ‘caught you red-handed.’
Here we go, Hyunjin thinks.
“I’m going out,” he tells him before practically bolting to the door and trying to get on his shoes before his friend can ask any questions. But he should have known the other boy was going to probe regardless.
“Okay,” Seungmin replies. “Need anything? Lube? Condoms?”
Hyunjin throws him a look. “You’re so fucking weird.”
“Says the one going to our teacher’s house,” he shoots back.
“How did you…” Hyunjin trails off as he looks around in confusion. Since when did his friend become a mind reader?
“You think I can’t see the makeup you’re wearing? You only wear it for special occasions. And you wear that top whenever you want to get laid,” Seungmin says, simply.
Hyunjin sputters a little in embarrassment at how easily he figured him out. He pointedly looks down at his shoes as he ties them instead of at the other boy.
“This never happened,” he says, points at Seungmin threateningly, even though it probably doesn’t come across that way.
Seungmin just chuckles as Hyunjin finishes tying his shoes. And as he’s about to step out the door, his friend calls for him once again, this time sounding a lot more timid.
“Hey, um. Hyunjin.”
He turns around to find that Seungmin has a soft, red hue over his cheeks and a look on his face that’s similar to the one he gets when he’s about to force out something sentimental.
“Thanks for taking the class with me,” he says, dropping his phone onto his stomach. His eyes seem bigger and more innocent from this distance and Hyunjin is reminded that his best friend has always been soft in heart, despite his best efforts to appear indifferent at times. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, considering…everything.”
“You’re welcome,” Hyunjin replies, then adds bashfully, “Thanks for dragging me along.”
He really hadn’t known what was in store for him all those weeks ago when Seungmin had been yanking him across the beach that day. He couldn’t be more grateful.
Seungmin shrugs. “You're welcome. Have fun.”
Hyunjin opens the door and it’s when he’s barely stepped out that Seungmin decides it would be funny to embarrass him.
“Use protection!” He yells.
Their older neighbor entering her apartment gives Hyunjin a dirty look.
He can’t even find it in him to care.
When Hyunjin steps out of the car he rode over in, he spots Minho’s place immediately. It’s a small, pale blue house with Minho’s surfboard propped up on the porch.
Behind him, across the street, is the vast, dark ocean, which looks very ominous in the night time. Because of course Minho lives on the beach.
He lets out a breath and makes his way up the small stairwell to knock softly on the door, feeling exposed and strange without the surfboard he usually has with him when they’re together.
Hyunjin hears some shuffling and footsteps inside right before Minho makes it to the door.
When he swings it open, Hyunjin is completely unprepared for what he sees.
Minho is in a plain t-shirt and sweats, his slightly damp hair falls around his face and there’s a hand towel resting on his shoulder, like he just got out of the shower. There’s nothing particularly special about his appearance, but Hyunjin stands there in awe, never having seen their instructor in anything but a wetsuit. Not that he was ever complaining about that. But this .
This is a sight to behold.
“Hi,” Hyunjin finally says, a bit breathless.
Minho smiles, eyes brightening in real time. “Hi,” he says. He moves aside to open the door wider. “Come on in.”
Hyunjin takes a timid step inside, looks around at the small living room as he tries to appear less nervous than he actually is. The place is spotless but looks lived in as well, with the pictures along the walls and all the little trinkets lying around, like the trophies sitting on top of one of the bookshelves. Hyunjin assumes they’re from the past competitions Minho talked about on the first day of class. Hyunjin’s eyes catch on a photo of Minho when he was a little boy, no more than ten years old, holding a mini surfboard up on the beach with a bright smile on his face. Hyunjin’s chest inflates.
“I hope you weren’t expecting a mansion,” Minho says suddenly. Hyunjin realizes he went too silent while taking everything in. “The salary for teaching a sport these days isn’t exactly six figures.”
“I was expecting one actually,” Hyunjin jokes. “But I guess this will suffice.”
Minho lets out a chuckle as he leads him into the kitchen.
Hyunjin can’t even believe he’s here right now. He’s daydreamed about this place so many times that he was starting to think he would never actually get to see it. But the moment becomes more real with every step he takes.
Once they’re in the kitchen, he leans against one of the counters as Minho places some pots from the stove into the fridge.
“You should see my kitchen,” Hyunjin says, noticing the cleanliness of the place right away. “It’s an atrocity. I think there’s dinner from like two weeks ago still sitting around in there somewhere.”
“Our record is a month ,” Minho says, bringing a water pitcher out and setting it down before opening the cabinet. “I just cleaned up before you came,” he admits with a small smile.
He offers some water and Hyunjin accepts. Minho pours a glass for him and brings it over, leaning against the counter beside him as well. A lot closer than Hyunjin expects. He wonders if Minho can hear the way his heart picks up speed in his chest.
“So…” Minho says.
“So?” Hyunjin replies, peering at him from behind the rim of the cup.
“How did your stats exam go? That professor still giving you trouble?”
Hyunjin throws his head back at the mention of his taxing mathematics course that he’s dangerously close to failing. He didn’t think Minho would even remember him saying he had an exam coming up. “Ugh,” he groans. “It was set up for me to fail! And yes, that man is always giving me trouble. He has it out for me. I’m convinced he’s homophobic and hates gay people.”
Minho lets out a huff of laughter. “Is it that or is it ‘cause of how many classes you miss?” He asks, a humorous glint in his eyes.
Hyunjin rolls his eyes. He can’t believe Minho is calling out how terrible of a student he is. It’s not his fault someone decided to schedule a statistics course at nine in the morning. And it’s not his fault the professor isn’t a young, hot surfer that he has a major crush on.
What motivation is he supposed to have to go to class?
“Well. I guess I have skipped a lot of his classes. And I never really turn in the assignments…” He sets his glass down and crosses his arms. “But I’m cute so it should cancel out,” he jokes.
Minho just chuckles again. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he says, instead of the response Hyunjin really wants to hear, which is, ‘ Yeah. You are.’
Or something along those lines.
“Sometimes it does,” Hyunjin says, drumming his fingers along the countertop which consequently has him leaning in closer to Minho. So close that the smell of him, which Hyunjin can only describe as a fresh, summer breeze, tickles his nose and has him feeling a little lightheaded. Has a few goosebumps prickling his arms. The part of him that craves Minho’s touch flaring up like flames doused in gasoline. “Teachers usually have a soft spot for me.”
Minho squints.
“Including you,” Hyunjin adds.
“Not true,” Minho says, and Hyunjin thinks it’s silly the way the statement causes a flash of disappointment to shoot through him. “I treat you the same as all my other students.”
“Sure,” Hyunjin nods. “That’s why you let me use your surfboard when I forgot mine in Changbin’s car. Even though you said you would never let anyone touch your board.”
Hyunjin briefly remembers the way he blinked in shock when Minho handed over his surfboard after Hyunjin told him he didn’t have his a few classes ago. Even though at the very first class Minho told everyone that if they ever forgot their surfboard, they would just get sent home for the day.
‘ You’re giving me your baby? Your firstborn ? ’ Hyunjin had gasped.
Minho had just shrugged and said, ‘ I trust you. ’
Which was a pretty wild statement, considering Hyunjin’s history in the class.
“That was one time,” Minho says, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“And that’s why you offered me private lessons and to buy me frozen yogurt after all of them.”
“Because I wanted to help you keep up with the rest of the class. And the free frozen yogurt was one of your terms to accept,” Minho says, his deep eyes piercing Hyunjin down to his core.
“Oh, but that’s also why you asked me-” Hyunjin almost says asked me on a dinner date but he changes the words in a split second. “-to come over for dinner, right?” He lowers his eyebrows as if he’s offended. “Have you been asking all your students that?”
Minho tongues the inside of his cheek like he’s been caught.
God, Hyunjin wants to kiss him so bad.
“It’s okay. You can admit it.”
‘That you like me ,’ are the words he holds back once again.
He thinks the older surfer knows how bad Hyunjin wants to hear some type of verbal confirmation that his feelings are reciprocated, and is purposely not giving him the satisfaction.
Because Minho just backs away to put the water pitcher back in the fridge, gives him a knowing look, and says absolutely nothing .
Hyunjin is never falling for his innocent facade ever again. Lee Minho has way too much fun teasing him. Too much fun playing his little mind games.
But that’s fine, Hyunjin thinks. He’ll draw it out of him eventually.
“Do you have a roommate?” Hyunjin asks after taking another sip of his water, thinking about the way Minho referred to more than one person making a mess in the kitchen earlier. Thinking about if they’re alone right now.
Minho nods, heads back to his spot right in Hyunjin’s personal space. “We do live in LA so I’d have to sell an arm and a leg every month to be able to pay rent otherwise,” he says, then adds, “Which means I’d be limb-less and homeless by month two.”
Hyunjin snorts. He of all people knows how true that is. And everybody knows that living on the beach is pricey.
“Is he here?” He asks, hands resting on the edge of the counter as he places his empty glass down.
“Hm?”
“Your roommate,” Hyunjin clarifies.
Minho’s eyes do something funny and he brings a hand up to the back of his neck like he’s thinking. Then he says, “He’s at work until midnight. He works late shifts at the bar down the street.”
Hyunjin nods in acknowledgement, the air between them shifting into something that feels a bit more tense at the implication that they’re alone. Or maybe that’s just Hyunjin projecting his feelings onto this moment, the maddening crush he’s developed on Minho making every word and every glance seem like more than it is, perhaps.
And this is the part where Hyunjin tries to push the beating muscle in his chest back down to where it belongs instead of its place right in the base of his throat. But he fails of course and he’s always been a slave to things like the fluttery feeling in his stomach when someone with honey sweet eyes looks at him like that.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
Usually he’d listen to that voice in his head, the voice of reason. Because he was supposed to wait .
But he fails in an instant and he’s sure there’s a glimpse of pleading in his eyes as he glances down at the tempting lips only a few inches away from him. He can’t help it. Minho’s just so close .
He sees Minho’s eyes do something similar and a spark swirls through his stomach, turning his stomach to liquid. Minho’s lips twitch up and Hyunjin can’t be imagining the invisible magnetic pull between them, reeling him in. He gulps.
All he would have to do is lean in a little. To get a taste. To feel him on his tongue, to feel him everywhere. Because he’s so very weak. And desire punches through him like a freight train.
He’s about to say ‘fuck it’ and lean in to press his mouth to his right as Minho halts his entire train of thought.
“Have you ever made pizza?”
Minho asks the question so suddenly that Hyunjin blanks before asking him to repeat himself.
“What?”
“Have you ever made pizza?” He says again, pointing to the fridge. “I think I have all the ingredients. Are you still hungry?”
“No. I mean, yeah. I mean, no, I haven't made pizza. Ever. But yes. Hungry. Definitely hungry,” Hyunjin says, like his mouth suddenly doesn’t know how to put words together anymore, as his clouded thoughts come back to him.
There’s a look of amusement on Minho’s face as he backs away and heads toward the fridge again. Hyunjin takes a deep breath and lets his body relax against the counter, all the bubbly anticipation leaving him in seconds until he feels like a balloon that’s just been popped and deflated. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, for Minho to start making out with him like this is a movie or something?
“I didn't exactly plan for this so topping options are limited,” Minho says, unaware of the thoughts storming around in the younger’s head.
He rummages around in the vegetable bin and pulls out a small container to show it to the younger.
“Mushrooms?”
Hyunjin makes a face and a sound that indicates he does not want to be within ten feet of that particular vegetable.
“Got it,” Minho says, placing it back inside. “Eggplant?” He holds up the vegetable that reminds Hyunjin instantly of the suggestive emoji. He would laugh if the sight of it didn’t make him want to vomit.
“I hate eggplant,” he groans, slumping against the counter a little in embarrassment. He hadn’t considered himself a picky eater before, but right now he’s starting to question that. Minho doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he throws the eggplant back into the bin.
He looks around some more before he turns around, this time with a box of cherry tomatoes in his hand, quirks an eyebrow in question.
“Tomatoes?” He inquires, like they’re playing a game of guess the vegetable.
“Ew.”
“I guess that just leaves us with pepperoni then,” he says, finally closing the fridge before he pauses and gives Hyunjin a look. “Don’t tell me you’re allergic to pepperoni or something.”
Hyunjin balks. “What kind of person is allergic to pepperoni?”
“You?”
“I love pepperoni,” Hyunjin says with a satisfied smile.
“Perfect.”
So Hyunjin hops off the counter and they move around in the kitchen as they prepare a homemade pizza. Minho mixes a tomato sauce and Hyunjin kneads the dough and attempts to throw it up and catch it the way pizza chefs do, but he decides against it when he imagines missing the catch and dropping it onto the floor.
“Too much cheese?” Minho asks as he’s sprinkling more mozzarella over the pepperoni.
“No such thing as too much cheese, Minho,” Hyunjin replies.
It takes twenty minutes for the pizza to cook. They spend the time cleaning the mess they’ve made and Minho washes a few dishes while Hyunjin distracts him by blowing soap bubbles out of his fingers, cackling when a few of them pop on his face.
He gets a few texts from Seungmin asking what’s going on and Hyunjin ducks his phone out of the older’s view to respond.
When the oven timer goes off, Hyunjin opens his camera to snap a few pictures of their finished meal, hot and sizzling on top of the stove. He may sneak a few of Minho in his oven mitts as well. But he doesn’t have to know that.
“ Mm . This is insanely good,” Hyunjin moans when he’s sitting down at the kitchen bar and he takes a bite, the cheese stretching out to an amusing amount. Minho has poured them both some cola and eats his own piece in satisfaction. “Tomatoes would have killed this. Like fucking ruined it.”
Hyunjin can’t seem to stop ranting about the pizza as they eat, glancing around the room as he does so, taking in more of the space around him. He can’t even quite pinpoint why he’s bubbling over with happiness in this particular moment. Maybe that’s just what being around Minho does to him.
“This is genius. We’re geniuses,” he goes on as he finishes off the perfectly melty, soft crust and wipes his hands, stomach full to the brim and satisfied.
“Right,” Minho says, finishing up his own and taking both of their plates to the sink. “We’re geniuses for inventing pepperoni on pizza,” he deadpans.
Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows playfully. “Hey, I'm definitely claiming that title tonight,” he says, right as Minho comes over and rests his arms on the countertop between them, bright eyes assessing the younger to the point where Hyunjin feels his body reacting without his permission for the millionth time.
“Are you?” He asks in amusement.
“Yes. Who’s gonna stop me?” Hyunjin replies, doesn’t break eye contact with Minho once, whose smile is growing bigger by the second. Hyunjin wishes he could stay here all night. All week. He wishes he could spend every day with Minho. It might be a little dramatic, but Hyunjin’s never been around a person who makes him feel like he’s riding a high. Not until now.
“Does anybody even know who invented pepperoni pizza-” Hyunjin continues to ramble, if only to keep Minho’s dark eyes pinned on him.
“Somebody Italian probably-”
“-No, they don’t. But they’ll remember me. Everybody will know my name. Hwang Hyunjin. Inventor of pepperoni pizza. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think-”
It takes a split second too long for him to realize he’s no longer talking.
All the thoughts in his brain come to a screeching halt when he realizes there are lips against his own.
Minho’s lips. He’s kissing him right now.
Hyunjin brings himself out of his shock so he can kiss back, but before he gets the chance to, Minho is already pulling back, separating them and leaving Hyunjin wanting more. A lot more. The taste of him lingers on his lips and Hyunjin just stares at the older man wide eyed as he stares back with the exact same expression. Like he didn’t mean to do what he just did.
When it seems like an apology is about to come out of his mouth, Hyunjin stands up, the sound of the stool screeching against the floor barely registering in his mind as he walks around the bar top and over to Minho’s side.
Minho must see it in his eyes. Because Hyunjin doesn’t have to say anything before Minho is already wrapping a hand through his hair and bringing him in for another kiss, this time a little more passionate, against the counter.
Hyunjin’s waited so long for this that he thinks maybe there’s a chance he’s dreaming this up. The way Minho slips his tongue past Hyunjin’s lips to slide it along his, the breathy sound he lets out in response, the hand cupping the back of his head like he’s craving him closer. It feels like it could all be a figment of his overly-detailed imagination.
But all the varying degrees of sensations along every inch of his body reminds him that this is real.
“Oh my god, you actually like me.” Hyunjin says against his lips before going in for another taste. “You actually like me back? What the fuck.”
“Was it not embarrassingly obvious?” Minho mumbles, pulling back just the tiniest bit.
“No? Not really. I mean, I don’t know,” Hyunjin replies, unable to think clearly. Or at all.
So he kisses him again instead.
He wonders if his whole body is vibrating with how violently his heart thumps behind his rib cage as he drifts into a haze of ocean mist ( Minho’s lips ), perpetual summer ( Minho’s lips ), warmth and a soft heat that fills every inch of his being ( Minho’s lips ).
He could do this forever, he thinks.