Chapter Text
A few hours after Minho left the stadium...
Seungmin
Seungmin is staring down at his phone when out of the blue, he feels a pair of arms lifting his body up in the air like he weighs nothing.
“Here’s our Star!!” a voice buzzes across the clubhouse. Standing tall with broad shoulders and glinting brown eyes with a hint of hazel, Minjae effortlessly swings Seungmin over his shoulder, showing him off like a trophy. A few people around give them a “WHOOOO”, a few clap. Minjae is Seungmin’s senior, someone he met after joining the district’s baseball team. Truthfully, they don’t share many common interests outside of the sport, but Minjae has a way of sticking close. He’s always around, always ready to offer advice or lend a hand when it comes to baseball. That much, at least, makes sense. He is a senior, after all. One who Seungmin respects.
“Minjae hyung, put me down,” Seungmin says, half-pleading and half-laughing. His voice laced with embarrassment, masked behind a shy smile. Seungmin should be basking in the glow of his earned victory. And he was feeling it a moment ago but now all he can think about is the stillness of his phone that sits silently in his pocket. Why hasn’t Minho replied?
“Why are you still here? Everyone’s waiting for you,” Minjae says, slightly out of breath as he sets Seungmin down. He must have jogged up to Seungmin earlier. The team is heading for a celebratory dinner. Normally, Seungmin would be as thrilled as a child on a Christmas morning. Celebratory night usually means fancy food, the kind he’d never splurge on himself. More than that, it’s not an everyday occasion where Seungmin’s efforts are celebrated. But something else is pressing in, heavier than a joy. He doesn’t feel like going anymore. He needs to think of an excuse and he needs it fast. He glances at Minjae who’s tugging on Seungmin’s arm like a little kid.
“Hyung, I’m not feeling very well...,” he says, rubbing his tummy. “I think I pushed myself too hard before the match. Think I’ll pass and head straight home.” A sudden worry forms on Minjae’s face. He grips both of Seungmin’s arms, peering carefully at him.
“Are you sick? *어디 아프냐?” Seungmin lets out a soft chuckle at the sound of his mother tongue language slipping so naturally from Minjae’s lips.
“I’m okay but I could use a plenty of good rest tonight,” Seungmin reassures, tilting his head as he locks eyes with Minjae’s. *“걱정 마 형. 애들 한테 좀 전해 줄 수 있어요? 내가 몸이 안 좋다고,” he continues. Those years he spent in Korea hadn’t gone to waste, he thinks to himself. Being able to speak the language of his home feels like a quiet comfort, a bridge between worlds. “I’ll let them know, but...,’ there was a pause before Minjae continues, “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you? I could keep you company tonight.” “Yeah, hyung, I’m sure,” Seungmin answers, words spilling out in a rush. “I’ll see you around.” Before Minjae could say anything, Seungmin’s already long gone from his peripheral vision, leaving behind only the faint echo of his footsteps.
After leaving the clubhouse, Seungmin finds himself walking through a familiar street. He walks, empty-minded, until an apartment building comes into view. In his right hand, he carries a plastic bag which has a box of fried chicken and a carton of four cans of Cass beers on the other. Subtle as it is, they are both Minho’s favorites. He presses the intercom buzzer for apartment eight and waits. The city’s quiet hustle and bustle fill the silence. His leg bounces restlessly, his stomach churns with every second that passes.
Minho
The bell rings, breaking the silence of Minho’s agonizing night. Confused, he jerks his head towards the door, then to the buzzer. Before he can stand, his phone lights up.
Seungmin: I’m outside. Hurry up, it’s freezing.
Minho’s heart kicks against his ribs. Seungmin? Here? His stomach flips in excitement as he rushes to the door, when a sudden thought hits him like a bad plot twist. Wait... What if Seungmin dragged his mysterious guy friend here, ready to rub it on my face? Is this supposed to be a twisted introduction? Am I supposed to shake hands? Pretend I wasn’t just bawling into my pillow minutes ago? He groans, dragging a hand down his face. However, at this point, anyone could tell that Minho isn’t exactly the type to think through before he acts on something. Anyone with half a brain would open the door. To what could potentially be a beginning of a love story with their long-time best friend, their first love. Or he could just congratulate Seungmin for his victory tonight. But instead... He flips his phone and begins typing.
Minho: I’m not home.
Yeah. He really is an idiot.
Seungmin
A couple of days passed since that night. They both haven’t seen each other at all. Sure, there must be a hint of longing inside them, suppressed deep towards the plates of the Earth. Seungmin walks down the staircase of his college, books stacked on his hand, headphones snug over his ears. He gives a quick glance over his watch. He has 40 minutes for lunch before his next class.
I am a moth who just wants to share your light...
Radiohead hums to his ears. This song has been on repeat more than he dares to admit.
I'm just an insect trying to get out of the night...
With his eyes down, he rounds a corner, walks past the cafeteria – though he should be heading there for lunch, he keeps walking. When he finally looks up, he finds himself standing in front of a lecture hall. He’s at the Computer Science department. This is not his department. It’s Minho’s. He doesn't remember deciding to come here.
I only stick with you because there are no others...
Right at that moment, the door swings open. Minho steps out with his backpack hangs over his shoulder. His hair ruffled like he had been running his hand through his hair the whole lecture.
“Seungmin?” his voice slips out, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Umm...,” Seungmin fumbles, words dancing around the tip of his tongue. “Lunch...? Wanna go...? You...? Together...?” he stutters. His face is slowly turning red in embarrassment. Minho takes a peek to his left, then to his right. As if he is expecting someone to step out from the shadow. He’s not even sure what or who he’s looking for.
“Are you here alone?” he asks.
“Yeah, who else would I be with?” Seungmin coughs out a small snicker. Minho slowly nods his head, “Right. Sure, let’s go. Lead the way, princess.”
As Seungmin starts to march forward, Minho throws his arm around Seungmin’s head, tugging him closer to his body. Seungmin half-heartedly pushing away, barely using his strength. Their laughter fills up the space, soft and unguarded. Until...
Minho
“Seungmin!” They both stop in their tracks, heads turning back. A guy jogs up to them, slightly breathless.
“Hyung, are you okay?” Seungmin says, scanning him up and down.
Hyung?
“You know him?” he checks. This guy looks familiar but he can’t place him.
“Ah yes. This is Minjae,” Seungmin turns, placing his hand on the small part of Minho’s arm as if to reassures him. “Hyung, this is Minho,” he looks at Minjae now. “We’re heading to lunch. Do you need anything?”
“Hey,” Minho offers, forcing friendliness. But his effort was dismissed by a simple nod from Minjae. He faces Seungmin, almost having his back on Minho.
“승민아, 너랑 할 말이 있는데 점심 먹으면서 애기하자.”
Minho doesn’t miss the switch to Korean. He does not know what’s the deal with this guy but he’s not an idiot to not realize that he is purposely leaving Minho out from this whole interaction. He scoffs, he hopes it’s loud enough for them to hear him. Minho’s eyebrows furrow a little. Now it hits him. This is the same guy Seungmin was hugging at the end of his baseball match. A pang of jealousy rises in his chest.
“Hyung, I’m sorry but I’m having lunch with Minho. Can we talk about it another time?” Seungmin says carefully.
Minho blinks.
"If Seungmin were dating this guy,” he thinks to himself, “he’d have introduced him earlier. ‘Hey Minho, this is my boyfriend, Minjae.’ Also, he wouldn’t be prioritizing me over his own boyfriend, would he?” He feels a flicker of hope growing inside of him. He now realizes he could have probably misunderstood the whole thing. Congrats, Minho. You have now graduated from the School of Idiots.
“Seungmin,” Minho cuts in, “Go ahead. It sounds like an important thing.” Then, he goes softer, “But uh, you can come over tonight, yeah? We can hang at my place. Have Chinese takeout. We can order from your favorite place. What is it called again? Madam... something?” Minho squints up, pretending to think. Without realizing, he hooks his finger softly around Seungmin’s and gives it a gentle swing.
“Madam Bo?” Seungmin reminds.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Minho grins, he’s confident now. “That sounds even better isn’t?” He wishes he could see Minjae’s face but at this moment, he’d rather keeps his eyes on the one who matters.
Seungmin
Seungmin is staring at his food. Across from him, Minjae is still complaining about something, though he has stopped listening 10 minutes ago. The cafeteria being very noisy at this hour also makes it hard for Seungmin to pay attention to literally anything.
“Are you just going to stare at your food? It’s meant to be eaten, you know?” Minjae ribs. Seungmin shrugs, takes a full bite and sets his chopsticks down.
“Hyung.”
“Mhm?”
“That wasn’t nice. What you did back there to Minho.” Seungmin confronts. “You know he doesn’t speak Korean, right? You remember that when I told you about him.”
“Yeah, and?”
“Then, why would you speak Korean in front of him? And he tried greeting you which I saw you deliberately ignored.”
“I nodded to him!” Minjae argues.
“That’s not enough,” Seungmin’s voice turns firm.
Minjae replies with a scoff. “If you like him so much, why don’t you just go and tell him how you feel?”
“You don’t get to grill me on that,” Seungmin sneers, almost fed up. Seungmin feels childish. He doesn’t want to be this petty but he can’t hide at the fact that he is annoyed. He’s annoyed because he could be having lunch with Minho but he’s here with Minjae over something so trivial.
Minjae puts his hands up, waving in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” An awkward pause settles in. Minjae bites his tongue, debating himself on whether or not to speak out his mind. He tries to swallow the words but they come out eventually. “Look, I don’t think what you’re feeling right now is one-sided,” he leans forward as his voice goes gentler, “I saw the way he looks at you. Even when you’re not looking.”
“What do you know about that?” Seungmin grumbles, turning his head away. Minjae breaks into small laughter. If Seungmin pays attention to him, he might have noticed the bitterness of his tone.
His gaze lingers at Seungmin. “I know more than you do, Kim Seungmin.”
Seungmin pushes back his chair and stands, “I need to run now. Thanks for the lunch.” He gathers his stuff. Before leaving, he turns to Minjae. “Hyung, promise me you’ll be nice to him the next time you see him around.” Minjae shuts his eyes, nods once and make a cross over his heart. His eyes follow Seungmin until he loses the sight of him. He places his bag on the table and pulls out two movie tickets.
“What a waste,” he whispers.