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It’s been a year since Minhyun moved in with Seongwoo, therefore being twelve months since they stopped being just casual friends and actually initiated a strong-bonded friendship based on cheap potato chips brands and hoarding toilet paper at the store. They learned a lot about each other in that time, Minhyun believes, like, before they were more than just two people who most of the time sat next to each other on Film class, Minhyun didn’t know Seongwoo preferred banana milk over the strawberry one―he always pegged him as someone who liked chocolate milk better, to be honest, but the more you know... Minhyun also learned that Seongwoo is extremely allergic to peanuts, and this is only after he almost killed him by making some fancy chicken with, uh, peanut sauce or something like that (they’ll always be grateful to Jaehwan; although most of the time being loud and unsympathetic, he always notices the smallest details of his friends, so the moment he tasted the sauce he prohibited Seongwoo from taking a bite of anything on his plate).
Seongwoo probably learned a lot about Minhyun too, like how he likes to iron his socks when he’s stressed because they’re the only pieces of clothing that aren’t flat and have wrinkles and he hates ironing a shirt twice. Hopefully, he also caught up on the fact that Minhyun has the palate of a kid―no coffee, no broccoli and, fuck, no Brussels sprouts.
Minhyun knows Seongwoo knows him, though, there’s no doubting that. He knows many important things and he cares for Minhyun and, listen, Minhyun doesn’t want to sound hopeful―no―delusional? Because it’s nothing like that, but he’s almost sure that, maybe, just maybe, Seongwoo feels something for him.
- “But you do.”
Minhyun, more or less, wants to die. And it’s not an exaggeration, really, he just wishes he could stop breathing at least for a few moments because everything, somehow, piled up on his shoulders and his brain is about to explode and there’s just no way being a university student is this difficult because―because if he could survive high school with the teenagers and the teachers who thought they knew every obscure bit of the world then he can also do this thing, even if it feels impossible. Maybe it is impossible. He just wants to stop.
He’s been holed up in his room all day, alright, with the shades drawn and the little, absolutely useless, lamp on his desk turned on and shining down on his notes and he has a pounding headache―been having it since noon and, according to his digital clock, it’s already 6p.m―and he’s cursing everyone going from himself to Guillermo del fucking Toro because, while he’s really not the best director out there, it’s Pan’s Labyrinth what got him here and―fuck Guillermo del Toro. Had he not watched that damn movie when he was a kid, then maybe Minhyun wouldn’t have decided to be a “film major”, and he says those two last words with every mocking bit of himself that he can muster up because he’s that upset. Honestly, he’s about to fucking shove his own fist down his throat and see how that goes.
“No way in hell history of film is this fucking difficult, what the fuck,” he murmurs to himself, hands gripping at his hair and brows frowning at the same words he’s been skimming over for the past two hours of his review. I’m so going to fai―
A timid knock interrupts his train of thought, and Minhyun is a little grateful for that because being negative never got anyone anywhere, right? And he knows who it is, or hopes the person behind the door is who he thinks it is, so he just groans out a “come in” but doesn't let his eyes part from his paper.
Some shuffling steps can be heard and how many times has Minhyun told Seongwoo to walk properly and stop dragging his feet? So many times, but that’s the least of his worries right now, in fact, the thought only enters his mind for one nanosecond and then it settles right back on what the fuck am I even reading? Anyways, while that thought seeps into his brain Seongwoo opts to sit on his bed, Minhyun guesses, because he can feel his presence but he’s too far away and Minhyun doesn’t feel him looming over his shoulder.
“How’s it going?” Seongwoo asks.
Minhyun scoffs, not wanting to be rude but not being able to help it in this situation. “Fucking fantastic, I'm just one second away from stabbing myself with my pen. Wanna see?”
“Let me go get my camera.” Seongwoo mumbles as dejected as Minhyun feels, but it’s probably because of Minhyun’s answer because he hates when he gets an attitude. Understandable. Either way, he stands up―or continues his path―and finally stands behind Minhyun, looking at the notes in a total uninterested manner. “But, seriously, you should take a break. Aren’t you tired? You haven’t eaten all day, other than a stale piece of bread that is.”
Light-headed, cramped, numb, there’s an unmistakable ache just pinching on the back of his neck―yes, Minhyun is tired or fucked up, either works, and yes, he’s hungry enough to eat two days worth of grocery shopping but fuck if he’s going to let himself take a break now. And, you know what, fuck Professor Choi too for wanting to cram all this material into one exam―isn’t that illegal?
He doesn’t say of this, though. “Seongwoo, I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I’m―shit.”
It’s never happened to him and Seongwoo’s deep gasp when he notices the droplet of blood falling neatly from Minhyun’s nose onto the corner of his notebook, missing a few lines of information by a mere centimeter, isn’t helping the situation. Should he tilt his head back? But he’s read somewhere―some time―that it’s bad, so does that mean he should lean it forward? Doesn’t that mean the blood will just keep coming―
Seongwoo grabs him by the face and is pressing some type of clothing to Minhyun's nose (it’s Seongwoo’s favorite sweater, Minhyun realizes in his dizzy state of mind). He looks concerned out of his mind, with his little brown eyes that shouldn’t be filled with anything other than mischief and happiness. There’s only worry and I told you but you didn’t listen to me.
“How about that break now, big boy?” He ushers Minhyun out of his seat and into the bathroom so he can wash the faint trail of blood the nosebleed left on its wake. “I bought some pizza too, I hope it’s still warm. And the crust in filled with cheese.”
Minhyun sounds nosy as he says, “But you don’t like the crust with cheese,” because of the improvised gauzes―pieces of toilet paper―he shoved into his nose.
Seongwoo just smiles lightly at him as he softly runs, but not quite, his fingers through Minhyun’s hair. “You do.”
(Once they settled in front of the small television on their little living room and Seongwoo’s mouth is already stained with tiny bits of tomato sauce and he’s trying to slurp the melted cheese into his mouth, Minhyun is hit with the fact that―yeah, he does.)
- “I brought you an umbrella.”
Rainy days are a beautiful thing; Minhyun considers them a blessing sent to him to turn his good days into even better days or to make the bad days become good days. He likes to hear the pitter-patter of the small drops landing gracefully yet recklessly on the pavement, hitting softly at the windows of cars as if asking to be let in, seeping through Minhyun’s hair just faintly but never making it to hit his scalp because they’re not big enough for that. That’s the kind of weather Minhyun likes.
And it's the kind of weather Minhyun expected when he got out of the apartment and promised Seongwoo to come back with bags full of junk food and some meat to grill from the grocery store, but he was let down by Mother Nature for the first time ever since he was a kid and he went to the beach for the first time with his older sister and that group of friends of hers that he always deemed as cool because they were older and funny. When he went into the store, it was just a grey sky with a barely hidden sun that promised to bring humidity to the city, but Minhyun hoped that before that happened it would let a few droplets of water come down. Instead, he got a full blown storm standing at the door of the store like a dumbass, with three bags filled with junk food and some vegetables and two other bags hanging from his arms―one with meat and the other one holding a bunch of banana milk bottles. And he had no umbrella with him.
He’s not dumb, so he gets out his phone to call Seongwoo and ask him to bring an umbrella which would totally be redundant since, well, Seongwoo would be coming so he should bring an umbrella, right? But he can’t. More like, he’s unable to as the doors of the store open and a frantic Seongwoo is looking around with an umbrella in hand and a few drops of water sitting patiently on his hair while some other seeped into his clothes.
Minhyun is a little taken aback. “Looking for me, Mister Idiot?”
It's a little cute how Seongwoo gets startled by Minhyun’s voice before he looks to his right, where Minhyun is standing with a smile on his face―ah, so this is what friends are for, is what is says, "Yes, you big dumbass. I brought you an umbrella. And me. It’s kind of a combo deal."
“I see.” Minhyun lets out a small laugh. “Just like this bunch of bags and me.”
Seongwoo rolls his eyes but dutifully grabs the three bags full of junk food after he hands the umbrella to Minhyun. “Of course, I didn’t expect anything else.”
(They walk back to the apartment in a nice, amicable silence with only a few words shared here and there, and only when they're safe inside their place does Minhyun get slapped by another life-changing fact: he, too, was looking for Seongwoo.)
- “What would I do without you?”
Minhyun is not a night owl. He used to be, when he was dating this guy that had a car and would take him for a midnight drive and get him back home at 2a.m., but that is the past and now Minhyun goes to sleep no later than 12a.m unless he’s pulling an all-nighter, and even then it’s not that common for him to do that. Opposite to him, though, it’s Seongwoo. The amount of times Minhyun has woken up to get some water and found Seongwoo watching any movie that was playing on TV or writing his paper last minute or doing anything but sleeping is infinite. At first, he remembers getting startled because he really wasn’t expecting it, but around the second month mark Minhyun discovered that he grew used to his friend staying up till late and replaced the sudden whisper of fear with worry, which, by the way, is a little silly―Seongwoo just stays awake at home and doesn’t go out at the ungodly hours, so Minhyun is thankful for that.
Was thankful, he corrects, because right now it’s about to be 2:45a.m and Seongwoo is nowhere to be found. When Minhyun got up to go to the bathroom he expected to hear the television’s static or bags being crumpled in the kitchen where Seongwoo would be making a sandwich, but when he didn’t he though―wow, he’s sleeping? So he checked the couch and it was empty. Then he checked Seongwoo’s room and it was empty, too. He even went to the bathroom because he even imagined Seongwoo could have fallen asleep on the toilet, but that was empty too. So then he peed and called Seongwoo, to ask where he was, but the kid didn’t pick up the damn phone.
Now, Minhyun is out on the streets calling Seongwoo like a mad man, with the wind all but knocking him out of his feet at how strong it is and missing his bed more than ever. Every now and then he checks his phone to see if there’s an incoming call from his friend, or if he missed any, or to call him in the hopes that he will pick up but everything stays the same and Minhyun is, more or less, freaking out because―what the fuck is wrong with Seongwoo, really? Minhyun doesn’t have a problem with him, I don’t know, going out to a party and getting smashed drunk and not telling him beforehand, but he needs to leave a note at least. And, now, Minhyun doesn’t know where he is or what he’s doing, but he swears if that is what's going on he’ll kick Seongwoo in the ass and―it’s time to call him again.
By now, he’s grown used and tired of the waiting beeps and he could even harmonize with them if he wanted to; he’s called Seongwoo so many times in the past ten minutes. Should he report him as missing? What if he―god, what if he’s dead and they incriminate Minhyun for being the last one who saw him but, like, that’s not the problem; the problem would be Seongwoo being fucking dead. Jesus Christ, what is Minhyun supposed to do in this situation―?
“Heeellooooo,” the slurred greeting comes from the other side of the phone and, yes, Minhyun is both startled and relieved that Seongwoo picked up, but he’s also furious.
He calms down, though, or tries to, before he talks to Seongwoo. “Where the fuck are you, man? I’ve been looking for you like crazy.” True, he went around their building at least three times before venturing to close locations such as the grocery store, the pharmacy, and the Subway that Seongwoo always goes to when he's hungry and too lazy to cook (read: make instant ramen).
Seongwoo is giggling as he replies, “I―Daniel called me to, ugh, pick him up from this parrrty,” burp, “but, dude, it’s so much fun, I―I think I lost Daniel, too,” giggle. “I don't know where he is! Oh my god, what if he went home? Who am I thuppothed to take home now?”
“First of all, no one, you dickhead; you’re drunk. Second, tell me where you are so I can go and pick you up, fuck Daniel―not literally, though!” Giggle, “Just―make sure you know where your car keys are and stay in one place while I’m on my way.”
The younger one (by a mere week or so) sighs and hums, as if he’s chewing the idea to swallow it and understand it. “Okaaay,” he sings. “I’m at―uh―dude, what’s your name again? Oh, Jaehwanie, Jaehwanie,” giggles, again. “I’m at Jaehwan’s.”
“Alright, stay there and tell motherfucking Jaehwan that he’s fucking banned from coming into the damn apartment for two goddamn months… with all of those exact words. And also tell him he’s dead.” Before Minhyun ends the call, he swears he can hear Seongwoo mumbling “but he’s here now, how can he be dead?” and decides that it is pretty urgent that he gets Seongwoo as soon as possible.
As Minhyun walks fast, but isn’t running nor jogging, he starts to think that, well, yes, Seongwoo is a grown man and he knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s Jaehwan’s place, too, what could go wrong there? But then he considers that Jaehwan isn’t big on parties, right, so this must be the work of someone else―this someone else being either Daniel, the original culprit for Seongwoo’s disappearance, or someone else, like maybe Sanggyun―and Seongwoo was stuck there, and he isn’t one on missing a party, so there’s that. There’s every little possibility running through Minhyun’s mind, and none of them make any sense because they just end up with the conclusive thought that Seongwoo is big enough and it’s Jaehwan and though Minhyun doesn’t know who’s at the party, he’s sure it’s all the people they both know, so there should be any latent danger. And, like this, all his thoughts mingle into one: why is he worrying this much, still?
He gets to Jaehwan’s place as he comes up with the perfect reply to that question, but it gets lost under the loud volume of the stereo and the disgusting smell of alcohol that he could never tolerate, so he shakes it off and sets on a quest to find Seongwoo (the latter told Minhyun over the phone that he would be near the staircase, but a peek at the said location told him that either Seongwoo lied, or he didn’t know where exactly he was, or this dumbass voice in his head told him to move. He doesn’t know which one to pick because the three options sound a lot like his friend).
Minhyun walks on his tiptoes―he’s tall but he needs to be taller―and goes on Fan mode, turning his head from left to right and right to left, scanning the room with his eyes. There's a lot of drunken movement and flustered laughing but no Ong Seongwoo and, yeah, that oath he made to kick Seongwoo in the ass? It still stands. Which is a funny thing to think, you see, because right after he train of thought arrived to Panic Station, a weight is being dropped over―around―his shoulders and a pair of wet, sticky lips are pressed to his right cheek.
“You came for me!” Seongwoo screeches right next to Minhyun’s ear, and while Minhyun wants to be mad, the way Seongwoo melts into his arms as soon as he wraps them around his body and the look of pure bliss on his face make him take several metaphorical steps back. This is a Seongwoo that you can’t really get mad at. He’s just too… cute. “Thank you, buddy, you’re the best!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know I am, now let’s go home. Where’re the keys to the car?”
Seongwoo giggles and leans forward to whisper in his ear. “In the back pocket,”
“You’re incredibly immature when you’re drunk, you know that?” Minhyun huffs, nearly hugging (actually hugging) Seongwoo, with his chin on the latter’s shoulder and both his hands going in the back pockets of Seongwoo’s jeans. He pays no mind to Seongwoo’s “shouldn’t you hold my hand first and then see about the butt stuff?” and gets the keys out. “Off we go, big guy,”
In the car, Seongwoo is extremely whiny on the passenger seat, kicking his feet and wriggling his body in one big tantrum that's just way too funny to piss Minhyun off (more than he originally was, anyways). By the smell of his friend, Minhyun can tell it’s going to be one hell of a hangover (thank you, Kang Dongho, for being Minhyun’s ex-boyfriend who liked to drink every Saturday and spent every Sunday crying over the unstoppable, huge headache; you’re a dude) so he decided, why not take him to McDonald’s?
“Can I― can I have two fries?” Seongwoo asks in a meek voice in from the cashier. Both her and Minhyun are stifling their laughs at the question, but she nods anyway, understanding exactly what he means. “And a― a what? Minhyun…”
Sure, why don’t you just look at Minhyun with your big puppy eyes the moment you forget the word you’re looking for and break him into tiny pieces? “A large chocolate milkshake, please,”
Wrapping, once again, his arms around Minhyun and nuzzling his neck with his nose, Seongwoo breathes out a content sigh, “What would I do without you?”
And Minhyun replies by returning the hug and running his hand up and down his friend’s back. “Probably die,”
“Yeah, most likely,”
(Yet again, as Seongwoo is drunkenly dipping his fries in his milkshake and laughing at how some of it drips onto the table and Minhyun can’t help but to stare, he realizes something else: it’s not that Seongwoo would die without him, is that Minhyun wouldn’t feel complete if he didn’t have Seongwoo with him.)
- “I’ll meet you halfway.”
It’s an odd day in which Minhyun has absolutely nothing to do, sprawled on his bed and staring at the ceiling; it's relaxing, really, and he has fun counting the cracks on the most superficial surface of it, in fact, he made the discovery that there are two new little cracks on the ceiling and he’s fascinated by it, somehow. There’s also Seongwoo next to him, arms stretched over his head with his phone dangerously held by his hands―Minhyun is secretly waiting for it to fall on Seongwoo’s face―and using Minhyun’s arm as a pillow, but he doesn’t mind. However, the―uh―intimacy? Of the setting just makes Minhyun blush a little, and he’s thankful Seongwoo can see neither his ears nor his chest because that’d be embarrassing. But it’s just that, for some reason, Minhyun is thinking. Thinking about Seongwoo and his subtle actions―words―that he doesn’t know when they begun.
Still, he thinks hard and rewinds to when they were new roommates; they didn’t talk to each other for a long while, just sharing some comments and greetings here and there and making sure the other was eating enough and the typical “do you want anything from the store?” because they weren’t―aren’t―impolite beasts. If Minhyun is remembering correctly, it was like this for about a month and a half before they actually started normal conversations and became the best friends they are now, or so Minhyun hopes. But it wasn’t the “flowery path” since the beginning, no, they went through a lot. There was this one fight that has Minhyun shivering at how intense it was and―
“Are you cold?” Seongwoo asks; his eyes no longer on his phone but on Minhyun, with a quirked eyebrow.
Minhyun shakes his head, eyes wide because his train of thought got interrupted, and gives him a small smile. “No, just that feeling―the sudden shivers,”
“Ugh, I hate when that happens,” he says and goes back to his cyber-world, letting Minhyun go back to his memories.
It was intense, alright, and Minhyun vividly remembers it. They weren’t roommates for more than four months or so, and Minhyun―he really hates the fact that he remembers this―was still dating Dongho. Not anymore, actually, because that day they just broke up in the most horrible way with shouts and foul words and things that made it pretty clear that they wouldn’t be friends anymore, or crossing paths if they could help it.
In those four months with Seongwoo, they had set some ground rules: don’t bring anyone home, don't do this and don’t do that, they were stupid rules that Minhyun did his best to follow and he knows Seongwoo put in some effort too, but maybe there were some things that, because they were habits, were just too hard for him to change or adjust. So, maybe, the fact that Seongwoo hadn’t cleaned their small living room and done the laundry like he was supposed to because it was his turn just set Minhyun off, made him explode like a bomb that had been ticking for a little too long because―honestly? It hadn’t been the first time, but Minhyun had been so enamored by his ex-boyfriend at that time that he would have licked a cow's ass for Seongwoo, too; he wouldn’t have cared.
That day Minhyun had been feeling awful, exhausted; emotionally drained. He had tears choking him and punches he wanted to throw and words to spit at everyone, but he held them back for as long as he could and, sadly, it wasn’t enough time for Seongwoo to run, so he got the short end of the stick.
Minhyun remembers well how he entered the apartment, ready to go to bed and scream and cry into his pillow, but instead found the welcoming area still a mess, with empty bags of chips that, funny enough, hadn’t even been there when he had gone out. Somehow, Seongwoo had managed to make it even messier and dirtier. And he also saw the culprit laughing at the television, some dumb show playing way too loud for Minhyun’s pounding head to tolerate.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Not even a hello, not even a “what is this?” Just, are you fucking kidding me? Loud and clear, startling Seongwoo off the couch and onto the floor. His wide eyes would have had been comical in any other situation but, god, Minhyun had been so upset that day.
There was a tense silence for a whole minute, Seongwoo still on the floor and the television being an awkward background noise that neither of them liked. “I leave for two hours, expecting to come back to a decent place, or you still cleaning up, but instead I find that you haven’t gotten your lazy ass off the couch for more than two minutes to pick up a broom and do your chores? What the fuck, Seongwoo, really,”
Seongwoo hadn’t liked the attitude. He never does. All he did then was scoff and roll his eyes like an immature teenager, Minhyun recalls. “Okay, you can’t talk to me like that. You’re just some dude, not my mom.” He stands up. “And I know I have things to do, but there isn’t a fucking time limit for it, is there? We set the rules, we have chores to do. I know that, Minhyun. There’s still a whole damn day ahead for me to start. Chill,”
“Don’t tell me to fucking ‘chill’.” Minhyun was angry. Anyone with common sense would have been able to tell.
Seongwoo was that anyone, but then again he also was someone. “Well, Im still telling you: fucking chill. Honestly, you sound like an old lady with a temper, treating me like I’m a maid. Dude, just go to your room and take a nap, I don’t fucking know, you just don’t have to be this rude. It’s unnecessary.”
“No, Seongwoo, what’s unnecessary is the way I’ve had to put up with your laziness for the past four months. I can help you, but I can’t just do everything. You are the one treating me like I’m your maid and that’s not cool. We’re roommates and we’re supposed to have a―a certain kind of teamwork.” The words had come out, the punches he wanted to throw were gone, but the tears were still there and getting heavier, more difficult to hold in and hold back. “But you just keep fucking up and, fuck, it’s my fault. Everything is my damn fault. I can’t do anything right. From the first moment you didn’t do anything, I should have said something but I just kept doing everything because I have to do everything and I fuck up and I keep fucking up and everything is my fucking fault and―”
Minhyun didn’t know if the ceiling had fallen on him―the impact knocking him off his feet and making him land on his back with the weight on his chest―but there was something pressing against his lungs and ribs and he just felt so heavy. He was cold and he couldn’t breathe and everything was his fault even the things that had nothing to do with him. Everything.
And this part is all a blur to him, up until the moment Seongwoo walked up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders and made him meet eyes with him, only to ask, “Why are you crying, Minhyun?” In the softest voice he had heard the entire day, with a certain kind of warmth that maybe he’d known before but he didn’t remember, and it wasn’t like him to just break down but he had and he was and Seongwoo was trying to hold him up.
“I don’t know,” but yes, he did know, and he realized this and he ended up telling Seongwoo everything and he ended up in Seongwoo arms, on the floor, surrounded by the mess that didn’t start this because the mess had been him and Dongho and maybe a little bit Seongwoo but the story was and still is a little bit too tangled for him to decipher what started what and how it ended like that way.
Maybe he had seen Seongwoo’s eyes one too many times, for he could already make out the little lights in them and the depth of their brown color, but Minhyun found out that day that Seongwoo would be a good someone to keep around, perhaps. His hand was held by Seongwoo’s hands and the latter was speaking so softly, still, as if scared to startle him.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized and Minhyun had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying that he didn’t need to apologize. Of course he did. That was why he said it.
“I’ll try―I will really try, not just for you but for me. There are many things we still don’t know about each other and ourselves, you know? And maybe it was a little bit out of nowhere to start living together when the most we’d said to each other before then was hello and “your notes look nice”, but I promise we’ll make it work, alright? There’s no need to be like this. While you have part of the fault here, I take most of the blame, buddy. I should have, you know, thought that you weren’t my maid; realized you aren’t a mule that works for me.”
Minhyun had thought then―those are the nicest words I’ve head, but then Seongwoo kept talking.
“I’ll adjust myself to you like you adjusted to me. I’ll make you the center of my home like I’m the center of yours. I’ll meet you halfway, Minhyun. It’s what you deserve. You’ve been nothing but a good person, roommate, friend to me and I have been nothing to you. So here’s my promise that I’ll do better from now on.”
Sniffing, because the waterworks were still running but Minhyun wanted to hold back, he nodded. “Thank you, Seongwoo…”
“You’re welcome, Minhyun.”
(“Oh, fucking hell,” Seongwoo groans out, present time, when the phone finally lands on his face and Minhyun comes back to reality with a big laugh.
“I didn’t want to tell you, but I was waiting for that.”
Seongwoo pouts at him. “You’re so mean. I’ve been nothing but kind to you and this is how you repay me?” Funny, Minhyun thinks, it sounds extremely familiar and he knows from where.
A sudden urge makes him tug Seongwoo closer to his body, in a way that feels and looks more playful than anything, something like a soft, friendly chokehold. Still laughing a little, Minhyun leans into Seongwoo's ear and whispers, “Promise I’ll meet you halfway,”
But there’s nothing like the feeling of fact number four slapping Minhyun in the face: they’ve reached halfway a long time ago, and they're past that point already.)
- “I don’t mind.”
it’s cold. It’s numbly, ridiculously cold in the apartment and outside and Minhyun blames it all on global warming. Sure, the air conditioner in the apartment is actually broken—it somehow just happened and it’s not the kind of broken that leaves you wishing you lived in the Antarctica—and they’re still waiting to the, uh, guy to come and fix it, and they’re close to winter, too, but still.
Minhyun likes warm, toasty sweaters but all of them seemed to vanish from his closet (they’re just in the laundry basket), so he’s left with a thin shirt, sweatpants and some cold sheets to keep himself warm, opposite to Seongwoo who’s drowning in his grey sweater, sliding his socked feet across the floor, with his sweatpants a size too big but promising to keep him from being cold. He’s also covered in his thick, fluffy duvet, wrapped like a burrito and—he looks adorable. But Minhyun is freezing and—
“You can just take one of my sweaters, dumbass,” Seongwoo tells him, plopping down next to him but still wrapped burrito style. “I don’t mind.”
So, yeah, Minhyun does just that but he is still cold and when is the fucking guy coming to fix this issue (several exclamation points)? They’re—is even Seoul supposed to be this cold around this time of the year? See, global warming (but, yes, it is).
And as Minhyun shivers, Seongwoo walks up behind him with his arms open to engulf him in one big, warm hug. “You can also get in here. There’s enough room for the two of us.”
(Of course. Of course there is room enough for the feelings and the two of them and the quickening of Minhyun’s heartbeat to go along with Seongwoo’s not-so-subtle one and Minhyun’s cheeks chose to be beet red because of the action and not the cold anymore.)
0. “I love you.”
Seongwoo is running late to class for the first time ever. It’s funny to Minhyun because it is somehow his fault—he spoiled Seongwoo by being his personal alarm clock, waking him up five minutes before seven and telling him to hurry up ten minutes past eight, because Seongwoo just took the longest time in the bathroom and getting ready in general.
Anyways, it’s comical to see him losing his mind while looking for a pen and some whiteout while he’s still in his underwear and wearing his shirt inside out. A feeling of protectiveness just sparks crazily in Minhyun’s chest and it’s so sudden that he feels like he might puke the orange he had for dinner last night, so he hurries to the fridge and pays no mind to Seongwoo literally crawling on the floor because “I’m sure I saw my pen over here last night, did you see it?” and it’s so, so endearing that Seongwoo believes that Minhyun pays attention to the smallest things because he does and he really needs to drink something before he spits his heart out on accident and he really doesn’t mean it as a metaphor but quite possibly literally.
He pours himself some water and drinks it without taking a breath, almost choking on it when Seongwoo abruptly stands up and dusts off his Spiderman-printed-boxers covered thighs and—Minhyun must be crazy, thinking of such sight as adorable and irreplaceable and what the fuck is wrong with him, really. But he’s kind of happy because Seongwoo looks happy because he found his pen and it was just under one of the stools and it’s so nice to see him happy over such little things.
“Can you pass me one of those?” Seongwoo asks Minhyun, not noticing the way is staring at him and fuck Minhyun is unbelievably relieved because it’d be so awkward and—
Seongwoo is pointing at the row of banana milk bottles. “Sure thing,” Minhyun replies, easily taking one of the small bottles and swiftly tossing it at Seongwoo who catches it with the ease of a professional.
“Thank you, I love you.” And Seongwoo just walks away, into his room so he can get ready.
And Minhyun—he has a hard time processing it because, did it even happen? It was so casual. Seongwoo said it so casually. As casual as Minhyun tossing him the bottle and as casual as his catch, but also as casual as the secretive smiles Seongwoo usually sends him whenever and the little hugs they share for no reason at all. it was as casual as the way Seongwoo feeds Minhyun when they eat and as casual as Seongwoo walks into the bathroom when Minhyun is showering to pee or brush his teeth or because Minhyun casually called him into the bathroom so he could scrub his back or help him wash his hair because he’s exhausted and Seongwoo is always there.
It’s the most casual I love you Minhyun has ever heard in his twenty-two years of life and he loves it. He loves Seongwoo too. And it took the latter so long to finally say it.
So Minhyun decides that he, too, will be casual about it. There’s a plan cleanly sketched in his mind about how casual he’ll be when Seongwoo comes out of the room. He’ll say “I love you too” and then they’ll live happily ever after—maybe. And it’ll be super duper casual, but it’s love so it’s okay.
But this is Ong Seongwoo and that is Hwang Minhyun, whose plans later get tossed out of the window when Seongwoo comes out of his room, dressed ready to suffer morning classes and still has a hint of what the fuck I’m tired on his face but he still looks good and he smells good, too, and Minhyun can really feel all of that when Seongwoo grabs him by the face, like he’s done many times before, and plants a big, incredibly smooth, kiss on his lips and doesn’t let go for a while.
Minhyun feels like he’s dying. But he also feels like he’s flying on cloud nine. There are way too many butterflies in his stomach and, you know what, feeling like this—making people feel like this—should be illegal, so maybe Seongwoo should go to prison for loving Minhyun and making Minhyun love him too.
“You can say it when I come back home later,” Seongwoo tells him as soon as he separates from him but proceeds to leave a quick peck on Minhyun’s lips, the tip of his nose, his cheeks and his forehead (he had to tiptoe a little for this one). “I love you, Minhyun. See you later.”
And, with a breathtaking smile and a little bit of a skip on his giddy steps, Seongwoo is out of the door in the blink of an eye.
“What the actual fuck, Ong Seongwoo.”
Minhyun doesn’t understand. He’s still smiling and happy, though, because yes, he’ll tell Seongwoo that he loves him too when he gets back home.
(Just so you know, when Seongwoo got back home, his face and the tip of his ears were tinted with an alarming hue of red and he kept avoiding Minhyun’s eyes and squealing and Minhyun had to take him by surprise when he had his back to him, giving him the most casual back hug ever with the most casual kiss on the cheek, with the most casual shit-eating grin, with the most casual “I love you too, dummy.”
And, well, unexpectedly, Seongwoo replied with the cutest giggles no one would have thought he owned.)