Work Text:
“Minhee, I feel…feelings.”
Jungmo pauses, mouth dry, eyes unable to look anywhere apart from Minhee—except, it’s not really Minhee in front of him. If he’s this flustered in front of a pillow with googly eyes stuck on it, desperately thrown together by the hands of a whipped boy in a moment of panic, how is he planning to ever actually confess to Minhee?
“That’s the best you think of?” Wonjin unhelpfully supplies, sneaking up behind him. Jungmo would be embarrassed but, as shameful as it is to admit, this isn’t the first time Wonjin has caught him confessing to an inanimate object.
“I feel feelings,” He continues to mock, picking up the pillow and throwing it across the room. Jungmo gasps, way too into the mindset of the pillow actually being Minhee. “Even if he feels the same way, he’ll run away after that.”
Jungmo furrows his eyebrows. “It was my first attempt. Don’t be mean.”
"This is, what...the 8th time you’ve practiced now? You haven’t even managed to say the words I like you, yet. To a pillow.”
“It’ll be easier when it’s actually Minhee,” Jungmo counters. “No matter what I say, the pillow will reject me because it can’t talk.”
Wonjin sighs, giving him a look that screams ‘I know you don’t believe that either.’ “Then confess tomorrow.”
"No! What the fuck, Wonjin?” Jungmo screeches, all too fast. His shoulders slouch in defeat when he realises he’d given Wonjin exactly what he wants.
Wonjin grins, sending a smug wink his way before heading towards the door. “Okay, hyung. Goodnight.”
Jungmo sighs as the door closes, left alone once again with nothing but a fake, yet still just as soft, Kang Minhee lying on the floor.
“Jungmo…” Jungmo turns around to meet the eyes of a guy in his math class he’d seen many times before—and each time, he had confessed to him. He knows what’s coming. This was a routine by now.
“Hi. Again. Do you need something?” Jungmo tries to keep his tone as polite and neutral as possible. He can’t find it in him to be anything but kind to the boy, even if this is a little (very) annoying by now.
“No. I mean. Yes?”
Jungmo's eye twitches, but he puts on his kindest smile, and the boy’s eyes gleam with hope for a moment. “If it’s...I’m sorry, but I…”
His timid voice trails off when he spots Minhee zigzagging his way through hurried students, a head of black hair sticking out like a sore thumb. He wasn’t looking for him, he swears—it’s just pretty hard not to notice him, with him being so much taller and lankier than most of the other boys his age.
"I have to go. Sorry. It was nice talking to you.”
He briefly hears the fading voice of the boy claiming he didn’t even say what he wanted to say yet, but he blocks it out as he jogs over to Minhee. A smile immediately appears on the taller’s face as he spots Jungmo, and Jungmo has to put in more effort to keep his own smile from being too enthusiastic than he’d like to admit.
“Him? Again?” Is the first thing Minhee says when Jungmo reaches him. They automatically begin walking towards the exit—Jungmo thanks the gods that Minhee lives so close to him and has no choice but to walk home with him everyday. It makes every school day worthwhile.
If he didn’t, Jungmo wonders whether he would’ve ever had the courage to talk to Minhee in the first place. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say his heart had skipped at least 4 beats when he’d first set eyes on Minhee, and Jungmo is the worst at talking to people he finds cute. Thankfully, Minhee was very friendly—not too confident and outgoing, but friendly enough to greet everyone in the morning with a smile, no matter who it was or what history they had, just hoping they’d have a good day. He’d talked to Jungmo 2 years ago when he noticed they walked home the same route, all soft smiles and a kind voice and an offer to help Jungmo carry his things since Jungmo had too many gifts in his hands (it was valentines day), and things got a little easier for poor, panicking Jungmo from there.
“I know. I’ve tried to be as blunt with him as I can, but maybe I’m not blunt enough.” Jungmo replies, sighing.
Minhee hums. “Are you doing something to people?”
Jungmo scrunches his nose out of habit. “What do you mean?”
"There’s too many people that like you and won’t give up no matter how many times you tell them. Do you give off some sort of...pheromones? Like a vampire? That’s a thing, right?”
“Shut up, what are you talking about,” Jungmo snorts, almost pushing Minhee but retracting his hand immediately because the thought of touching Minhee is too much for his heart. Yeah, it’s that bad. “There isn’t even that many people.”
“How many people have confessed to you this year alone?”
“I don’t know. I can’t count them all.”
“My point exactly,” Minhee says, pushing open the door. They’re met with a gust of wind that blows Minhee’s hair back, and it’s so dumb that just the sight of Minhee’s face with less hair covering it is enough to make Jungmo’s ears turn red, but it is. God dammit. He reaches up to pull at his ears like that’ll do anything. “Why don’t you give one of them a chance? All the cute people are crushing on you.”
Jungmo wants to yell “Not all of them, you idiot.” (It’s true, if the cutest in school Kang Minhee isn’t crushing on him, then what’s it worth?) but he doesn’t. He has some self control, at least.
Instead, he clears his throat and looks at the floor, stares at one part of his shoelace that isn’t properly tied like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. It’s too hard to lie to Minhee, too hard to talk about this topic when he can’t even look at the boy without wanting to get on his tippy toes and kiss each of his freckles over and over and over again. Then an extra time for good measures.
Jungmo is fucked.
At this point they reach a turning that leads them onto a quiet field, with no loud voices of obnoxious students to fill the silence Jungmo is so desperately trying to avoid.
“Hyuuuuung. Is there someone you like?” Minhee sing-songs, not letting him get away with it.
Jungmo turns to look at him, with what he hopes is a threatening look on his face, but realistically he knows he’s probably just pouting. Minhee has a stupid smile on his face, the one where one of his eyes closes more than the other and his one tooth that’s sharper than the other becomes much more obvious.
It’s too much. Too cute. Jungmo surrenders.
“T-There isn’t. I don't like anyone. You do.”
Minhee’s eyebrows raise in question. Jungmo praises himself for doing a good job—a good job at saying whatever comes to his mind in a moment of panic and now being stuck because that’s not at all what he meant to say.
“Me?” Minhee laughs softly, and the sound sends a wave of dangerously soft feelings through Jungmo’s entire body. Don’t do that, Mini. “Stop trying to change the subject, dumbass. Your ears are red, you’re so obvious. Who is it?”
Jungmo reaches peak panic at that moment. He doesn’t think too much—he should definitely think more—and he runs. Straight across the field, straight past his house just to be extra safe, straight into a cafe he spots a few roads down. He runs so fast he struggles to stop, barging through the door of the quiet, peaceful cafe. Well, that was before Jungmo got there.
His cheeks heat up as he bows apologetically (so far down his hair almost brushes the floor) to the heads he’s turned.
“Sorry. I was running away from my crush.”
The next day, Jungmo ignores every one of Minhee’s texts mocking him for running away, but not on purpose; because he hardly slept, the words Minhee knows Minhee knows Minhee knows he definitely knows tormenting his mind.
Turns out Minhee doesn’t know, though, because when Jungmo finally wakes up at 1pm thanks to Wonjin throwing the same pillow Jungmo had used as a substitute for Minhee at his face (the googly eyes hurt more than you’d imagine), he isn’t met with the texts he’s expecting.
minhee:
you’re such a baby lol
who is it? :( u dont trust me?
u can’t get away from me hyung!!!!
i’ll come torment u tomorrow if u don’t tell me
wonjin will let me in cause loves me
"He didn’t guess.” Jungmo mutters absentmindedly to himself, voice croaky, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He’s decided to purposefully ignore Minhee’s use of the word “baby”—does he need to remind him he’s older than him?
“Are you 12, hyung? You’re making this so much harder for yourself than it needs to be.” Wonjin says, slurping up noodles Jungmo had bought for him the previous day to get him to keep his mouth shut.
Jungmo wishes it wasn’t morally wrong to kick your own step-brother out of the house—just for a week or two.
“I’ve never had a crush like this before. It’s terrifying,” Jungmo insists dramatically, an expression of pure torture on his face. “I don’t know what to do! I don’t think I can handle rejection.”
“There might not be rejection.” Wonjin says, and while Jungmo knows deep down that’s always a possibility, it doesn’t seem realistic. Jungmo knows he’s on the handsome side, and he gets told he’s cute quite often—but Minhee? Minhee is on another level. Minhee is pretty and selfless and witty and angelic, albeit annoying and too keen on teasing Jungmo, holds much more love in his heart than Jungmo thinks anyone is worthy of, and most of all—has cute little freckles. How can someone be so lovely and have freckles to top it off? Minhee having feelings for him isn’t something he can fathom.
Besides, Jungmo doesn’t even know for sure if Minhee likes boys. It’s all too risky.
“Anyways, Minhee’s coming over in a seco—”
"Huh?” Jungmo yells, suddenly sitting up in bed. “You couldn’t have told me this before?!”
Wonjin smirks in amusement. Jungmo has never been so tired of a particular facial expression on someone before. “You’ve been awake for like 5 seconds. Maybe if you got up earlier…”
Jungmo throws the Minhee pillow at him this time, launching out of bed and hurriedly heading into the bathroom to tidy himself up. He doesn’t know why he’s making such an effort when Minhee doesn’t care what he looks like, has seen him in a worse state, and definitely doesn’t and won’t ever have feelings for him, but his feelings are so heightened right now that he can’t bare the thought of being seen by the younger in anything but top condition.
When he’s all cleaned up, looking rather cute if he does say so himself, he comes out of the bathroom to see—
No Wonjin. No Minhee. Anywhere.
He knows Wonjin has tricked him before he even looks at his phone—step-brother senses—but the one word text is all he needs as a confirmation.
wonjin:
lmfao
He’s in the middle of texting back the middle finger emoji when a call from the devil (angel) himself cuts him off. He debates declining it, but his fingers physically won’t press the button.
“Hyung, you picked up!”
He smiles involuntarily, all teeth showing and a scrunched nose. Minhee’s voice is always welcomed. “Hey, Mini. I picked up.”
“Did you get my texts?”
Jungmo pauses, reality hitting him that, oh yeah, he has to deal with this. Maybe he should just make someone up. Some he goes to a different school kind of thing. “I did, and I ignored them.”
Minhee scoffs on the other side of the phone. “I meant it. You can’t get away.”
"Why are you so stubborn?” Jungmo exclaims, rubbing his forehead head out of stress. “It’s not even exciting. Especially with all of this build up.”
What a lie, his brain tormentingly adds.
“If it’s not exciting, then why can’t you tell me?” Minhee fights back, and Jungmo can practically hear the grin he’s probably wearing right now in his voice. He knows he’s about to win. Jungmo is too weak for him.
"I can. Fine, I will,” Jungmo says quickly, “You wanna go get coffee?”
"You don’t even like co-”
"Okay. See you there in 30 minutes.”
Jungmo hangs up the phone abruptly, and when he looks in the mirror to check himself one last time before he leaves, there’s a deep pink resting on his cheeks. He doesn’t understand why he’s blushing at his suggestion when he doesn’t plan on telling Minhee the truth—
is what he tries to convince himself for comfort.
When Minhee arrives at the cafe they routinely go to to study (thankfully a different one to where Jungmo humiliated himself last night), Jungmo is already sitting down at a table picked strategically closest to the door. It’s always good to be prepared when you’re as impulsive as him.
Minhee looks at him suspiciously as he sits down slowly opposite him, eyeing the drink Jungmo’s holding in his hand. “You suddenly like coffee?”
“No—I just. Said that,” Jungmo glances down at the drink, unable to make eye contact with Minhee due to how nervous he is for no apparent reason. He’s going to tell him it’s a guy that doesn’t live here, that’s it, so why is his stomach currently doing jumping jacks? “It’s hot chocolate. Got you your favourite, though.”
Minhee smiles a small, closed-mouth smile as Jungmo hands him the coffee he was holding in his other hand the entire time. The youngers freckles are extra visible today, not covered up by makeup or various creams he usually puts on when he’s not too fond of them, and Jungmo is nothing short of endeared.
He coughs, snapping himself out of it. “It shouldn’t be too hot anymore.”
"Thank you,” Minhee says softly, taking a sip straight away. “You really dragged me here just to tell me about this supposedly unexciting crush?”
“I just wanted to see you, too,” Jungmo says a bit too honestly, eyes widening when he realises how it could come across. “I couldn’t take being stuck with Wonjin any longer.”
He tells himself he’s hallucinating when he sees Minhee quickly look out of the window in a similar fashion to how Jungmo usually does when Minhee says something that makes his heart stop.
“Did you fight?” Minhee asks, watching various people walk past the window. When he looks back at Jungmo, he finds himself frantically searching for a sign of a blush, red ears, anything. This is ridiculous, he thinks to himself, when he can’t spot anything. He’s getting his hopes up because Minhee looked out of a window.
“No, he’s just annoying.”
"How dare you say that about my best friend?”
"Try spending a week with him.” Jungmo shoots back, biting back a smile at Minhee’s fake hurt expression. It’s a running joke that Minhee prefers Wonjin over Jungmo when they’ve only met a couple times, but Jungmo can’t help but wonder if Minhee really would.
“Fair,” Minhee says, taking another sip of his drink. “Let’s get it over with then. Who is it?”
Jungmo freezes. This isn’t supposed to happen. Be natural, he tells himself. You can lie just this once.
“I’m hungry.” is what eventually comes out of his mouth instead.
Minhee’s mouth drops open in disbelief. Jungmo can tell he wants to say something about him changing the subject again, but instead he settles on saying “What do you want? It’s on me.”
2 patbingsu’s later, due to Jungmo’s sweet tooth, they sit in silence, Jungmo unable to avoid the situation anymore. Wonjin’s voice rings in his head saying you’re making this harder for yourself. He thinks he needs an exorcism.
Jungmo knows that he is, knows that it can be simple and he can lie, but also knows he’s too far gone to continue a friendship where the unrequited feelings only get stronger and stronger the more he sees Minhee.
He rests his chin on the palm of his right hand and sighs. Minhee is being too patient. It’s almost like he knows, and that’s why he isn’t pushing Jungmo too much. Minhee is too good.
"You’re too good.” Jungmo says, a pout on his lips.
Minhee looks up from his phone, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”
"You’re just good. To me and to everyone.” Jungmo rambles, something clicking in his brain due to all the thinking he’s been doing.
"Good?”
Jungmo nods. He knows he’s not being clear, but this is the best he thinks he can do right now. He might’ve decided to be a little braver, but he’s still not brave enough to say the Dreaded Three Words.
Minhee’s eyes soften. He knows, Jungmo’s brain adds. He knows. Fuck it.
Jungmo reaches out with the hand that isn’t holding his head up, brushes each of Minhee’s freckles with the pads of his fingers. Minhee gulps, and Jungmo feels the corners of his lips raise.
All of Minhee’s little reactions are egging him on, urging him to just go for it—after all, even if Minhee doesn’t feel the same, he’s too kind of a person to hold it against Jungmo. For the second time, he says fuck it.
"Kang Minhee, I li—”
Uh oh. He’s stuttering again. His confident facade breaks and his gaze falls down to Minhee’s neck along with his hand falling back to the table, unable to look away from him but also unable to make eye contact any longer.
“You. I like you. I think. I really like you.”
His ears are ringing, face burning up. He decides this was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea, but it’s too late and Minhee has a hand on Jungmo’s jaw and now his lips are way too close to his and Jungmo can’t process what’s happening, can’t say anything except “Sorry—” before he’s cut off by a pair of lips.
Jungmo doesn’t shut his eyes, can’t shut his eyes, can’t relax and he really, really, really hopes that Minhee understands he’s not kissing back because he is literally dying.
He pulls away when he gets no reaction, but Minhee shows no sign of looking rejected. His hands pull away from Jungmo to touch his own face, holding his own cheeks in his hand as if he can’t believe he just did that either. His cheeks are bright red, much redder than Jungmo thinks he’s ever seen his own go, freckles hidden amongst the deep shade, and he can’t help but laugh.
“This is so dumb. We’re so dumb.” Jungmo says, and he doesn’t particularly know why he says that. Truthfully, he doesn’t really know what’s going on—all he knows is he’s on cloud nine and he can’t stop thinking about kissing Minhee again, so he does. Again and again and again. It doesn’t matter that anyone else is in the cafe and that Minhee hasn’t said anything, because Minhee’s face is in Jungmo’s hands and Jungmo’s heart is about to jump out of his chest.
Later, when Jungmo has taken everything in and is settled on Minhee’s floor watching his favourite show, Minhee sat just above him on the sofa with his hands gently tangled in his hair, Minhee tells him softly, “I knew, by the way.”
Jungmo turns to look at him abruptly, even if his favourite scene is playing right now; Minhee is better to watch. “Literally how? I was so good at hiding it.”
Minhee makes a pfft sound and Jungmo reaches up to push his shoulders a little too aggressively (but out of love) so he falls back onto the sofa. Jungmo immediately grabs his hands to bring them back to his hair when they naturally fall away.
He can touch him now without panicking. It’s an experience he’ll never take for granted.
Minhee tilts his head, looking at him with an expression filled with so much fondness that his ears and cheeks ignite much faster than ever before. It’s a look close to many he’s seen from Minhee before, but seeing it in a different light, knowing the things he knows now, he realises these looks were always directed at him only—how could he have been so oblivious?
"Your ears only went red around me.”