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Chapter Text

“Where do you put all of that?”

Minho looked up from his sundae at the sound of the disgusted voice above him. He gave a questioning glance at Kibum as his classmate dropped down into the seat across from him, beside their senior Jonghyun.

“That...thing.” Kibum gestured at the tall glass filled with several flavours of ice cream. “How can you eat that stuff?”

Minho grinned. “It’s ice cream,” he said. “How can I not?”

“It’ll make you fat, you know,” Kibum told him, tone dripping with disdain as he eyed the dessert.

Minho raised an eyebrow and then stuck his tongue out at him, immediately sending their mutual friend into a fit of snickering at the scandalised look Kibum wore. Minho held out his spoon, purposely piled high with ice cream, to Jonghyun.

“Want some, hyung?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Jonghyun smirked and Minho was sure the acceptance was more to annoy Kibum than anything else.

It wasn’t often they could get one over the diva after all.

.x.

The end of school found Minho standing at a junction, glancing down two different streets. Both would lead to his home, he knew, but the one on his right was the route he usually took. He’d never gone down the other street yet and he wondered what it was like. He couldn’t deny he was curious, though why today of all days eluded him.

Minho shrugged. ‘Let’s just try it out,’ he thought to himself.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he began to see that this street had little difference with the one he usually took to go home. There were more shops than houses here, however, as well as a tiny playground halfway through as opposed to the park in the other street. In terms of community it was identical, with people just barely crowding the sidewalks and cars going back and forth noisily on the road.

Minho looked around curiously as he passed by a row of mini shop houses. He paused at the display window of a sports store for quite a while before deciding to move on. He didn’t stop again until he was about a block away from home when a particular shop caught his eye.

‘Icia’ read the cone-shaped sign on the roof of the tiny store which sat second from the end of yet another row of shops and outlets, nestled comfortably between a boutique and a grocery mart. Minho’s large eyes lit up in curiosity and he stepped forward to peer at the shop window, pasted with pictures of delicious-looking ice cream and milkshakes. The building was painted a soft pink which looked fairly unmarred, showing that it was probably new. The shop must have just opened, which explained why Minho had never seen it before.

After a short debate, he decided he had time to go in and look around. The thought of a shop selling mainly ice cream was wonderful; he loved ice cream. He had thought that there weren’t such stores anywhere in his neighbourhood and he was definitely happy to have found one so close to home.

A little tinkle was heard as Minho pushed open the door and stepped in. He glanced up to see a small bell attached to the wall, with a little string connecting it to the door; the cause of the chime. Minho turned to survey the place.

The shop was small but decidedly cosy. The walls were painted a creamy colour and stamped with blown-up posters of some of the menu choices. A long counter where the ice cream tubs were displayed stretched across an entire side of the room, aside from a small section sealed off with a waist-high door that was the divider between customer and server area. On the other side of the room were arranged chairs and tables with menus set on them, small but more than enough for the few who would choose to eat their ice cream there.

At present, the store was empty. Minho was the only person there. Just as he took another step forward, however, the door behind the counter opened and someone bustled out, clad in an apron and what Minho assumed is the staff uniform. The man was shorter than Minho with slightly messy dyed brown hair and small honey-coloured eyes; his face was round, still containing some cheek fat. He was far from fat but he wasn’t exactly thin either, at least not when compared to Minho.

“Hi!” the attendant greeted brightly, his smile friendly and welcoming. “Welcome to Icia. What would you like?”

Minho blinked. For some obscure reason, he found himself tongue-tied. The other man’s brilliant smile directed at him had chased out his original reason for coming in here. Where was he again? Ice cream shop, right.

With considerable effort, he pulled himself together and came forward to look at the choices. There was a variety of flavours, much to his delight, including some he had never heard of. He wondered if he should try those or just go for the ones he actually recognised.

“Would you like to hear our specialties?” the server asked politely, smile still on full-force. When Minho looked at him, he couldn’t help but notice how white the man’s teeth were.

For a good second Minho scrambled for words before gulping, all the intelligent things he could’ve said flying out the window. Was there something in the air? There had to be a good reason why he was acting with as much intelligence as an overly grown troll. Maybe he should get out of there. Fast.

“Err...no, thanks,” he blurted. “Just a vanilla cone, please.”

Well, that was as good as any. Vanilla was an all-time favourite, after all.

“Just a second, sir.”

Before Minho knew it, the attendant was happily handing him his order. The tall soccer player absently noticed how pleasant the man’s eyes were when they crinkled into little half-moons like that. He quickly paid and left to the call of “Please come again!”. He stood outside, staring at his cone. Strangely, the man had seemed slightly familiar. Where had Minho seen him before? Or was he just imagining it? Minho licked at his ice cream. To his surprise, it was pretty good. Smiling, he began to walk down the street, heading for his house up the block.

Maybe he would come again tomorrow.

.x.

The next day after school, Minho didn’t even realise he was walking down the left street instead of the usual right until he spotted the ice cream shop ahead of him. He stopped for a moment, disconcerted, before shrugging and moving on. He figured that since he was already on his way, he might as well visit the store again.

When he arrived, two teenagers were exiting the door as they shared a tall cup of thick blue concoction he was sure was packed with sugar. He entered cautiously, remembering yesterday all too clearly. The same man from the day before was already behind the counter and beamed a familiar grin when he saw Minho.

“Hello!” he said as Minho came forward. The student offered a brief smile, thankful that he was able to act normally today. Subtly he tried to spy the man’s name and was inappropriately disappointed to discover that he didn’t wear a nametag.

Nevertheless, he moved on to browse the double row of flavours, trying to decide what flavour he’d choose today. There were so many that he was hard-pressed to make a decision. Perhaps he should just go with the simple ones for now.

“Would you like vanilla again?” the attendant asked.

Minho thought about it then shook his head. “No, thank you,” he declined. “I’ll look for something else.”

“Alright, then.” The bell twinkled, signalling the entrance of another customer. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

The man waited until Minho nodded his assent. The tall teenager watched as the server headed for the elderly man and greeted him with all the familiarity of old friends.

“Good afternoon, Grandpa,” said the employee gently, his voice just slightly louder than a regular tone. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in nearly a week.”

The aged customer smiled with noticeable gaps in his teeth. “Fine, today,” he answered. “I’ve had a cold recently but I recovered.”

“Are you allowed to be eating ice cream after a cold?” There was a touch of humour in his voice although he seemed to be serious.

“I’ll be okay.” The old man waved his hand dismissively. “Ice cream doesn’t affect me at all, I’ve told you. It does more good than harm.”

“If you say so,” said the server in amusement then reached for a scoop. “So, Grandpa, watermelon for you and butter pecan for Grandma again?”

“You know our tastes as always,” said the other with a dry chuckle.

Minho didn’t miss how the attendant added more ice cream than strictly necessary for both cups. He looked away, focusing on the various flavours before him. He heard the ‘ting’ of the cash register and then the sound of the bell as the elderly customer left. The server returned, smile wide as ever when he looked up at Minho.

“Have you made your choice, sir?” he asked.

Minho gazed at him for a moment, feeling his heart skip a beat. “Chocolate,” he said. “No toppings, please.”

.x.

Three days of resistance proved to be for nothing when Minho found that he couldn’t stand avoiding the ice cream shop anymore. After two consequent visits to Icia, he had refrained from going down the left street, determined to prove that he could control himself. It didn’t work, however, when he found that he kept thinking about the little store; its diverse selection of really good ice cream often lingered in his memory while the image of the smiling shopkeeper occasionally flitted across his thoughts.

He mostly tried to ignore the latter. ‘Tried’ being the key word.

Finally Minho gave in to his greedy urges and headed down the left street that Friday. When he entered the shop, the noisy chatter of excited children met his ears and he saw a bunch of middle-school students crowding the long counter, pressing their noses against the glass as they peered down at the tubs of ice cream within.

He was only a little surprised to see the same server from last time behind the counter again, scooping out cones of ice cream and handing them out to the excited kids. Minho could see the way the man automatically reached out to each flavour requested by memory, a testament to how well-versed he was in the arrangement of the tubs. His small eyes calculatingly flitted to each face, matching it to the ice cream and when they paid, he recited the prices from heart.

Was he the only one who worked there? Minho had never seen anyone else besides the customers and all the jobs – cashier, maker, cleaner – seemed to be handled by the one man alone.

Minho waited at the side until each child had left before coming forward. The server, who looked slightly out of breath but still quite happy, wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead with his arm. He beamed at Minho, which caused the student to temporarily forget how to speak.

“Hello, sir,” he greeted welcomingly. “What would you like to have?”

Minho looked down at the choices yet again. Despite the amount of times he’d surveyed them, he had yet to actually try any of the different flavours, sticking to the classics so far. He didn’t really have a favourite; there were a few he held a particular fondness for and others he’d prefer not to taste again. But there wasn’t any single flavour he looked out for since he had yet to find something that matched his tastes perfectly.

“Sir?” The server smiled mischievously when Minho looked up at him. “Since you chose vanilla and chocolate last time, maybe you’d like strawberry today.”

Suitably startled, Minho opened and closed his mouth several times but not a sound escaped. “You remember?” he eventually managed to say incredulously.

The employee’s smile became just a little shy. “It’s sort of hard to forget someone like you,” he said, and his cheeks turned the barest shade of pink.

When Minho left the shop, his head was whirling and he had a strawberry cone clasped in one hand.

.x.

The next day was Saturday. After lunch, Minho headed over to Icia clad in regular clothes. The ice cream store was little more than a block from his house, a fact that served to elate him although he wasn’t really sure why. He told himself it was because he now had easy access to his favourite dessert.

The shop was empty despite it being the weekend but Minho attributed that to the fact the place was still new and was relatively unknown. Yet again he was greeted cheerfully by the same attendant and he wondered if he imagined the tinge of warmth in that smile. He took a seat at one of the tables closest to the counter and farthest from the door, picking up the menu and browsing through it.

“Will you be eating here?” the attendant asked as he came up beside him.

“Yeah,” said Minho with a nod, casting a cursory glance at the menu. “I’ll have a double scoop of chocolate chip ice cream, please. No toppings.”

“Coming right up!”

By the time he returned with the order, Minho had amassed enough courage to ask a question of his own. “Could I ask your name?”

The server paused for a moment then set the glass bowl down. “Lee Jinki,” he introduced himself cheerfully, with a big grin.

Lee Jinki. That didn’t ring any sort of bell as he had hoped but he hadn’t really expected it to.

“Jinki-shii.” Minho nodded with his own friendly smile. “I’m Choi Minho. I’m a student at Konkuk High School.”

Jinki seemed delighted for some reason. “Konkuk High School?” he said excitedly. “I used to go there!”

Minho blinked in shock. Lee Jinki used to be a student at his high school? Why hadn’t he ever seen him before? Or maybe he had, which would explain why he seemed somewhat familiar. Maybe he’d seen him somewhere at school.

“What year are you in?” Jinki was asking him.

“Um...fourth,” Minho answered uncertainly.

“Ah.” Jinki nodded to himself. “Last year was my final one, so you would’ve been a third year.”

Minho quickly calculated the boy to be 18 years old. He had guessed they were around the same age, and was glad that he wasn’t off the mark. He did wonder why they had never encountered each other at school before.

“It’s not too much of a surprise that we’ve never met before,” Jinki told him, still grinning. “We were in different years and I was usually too busy with my studies and debate to go to most school events.”

Minho felt his ears perk up. Debate? That sounded interesting. Maybe he could use that information somehow.

“It’s nice to meet you, Minho-shii,” Jinki said brightly. He sounded sincere and Minho couldn’t keep the smile from spreading a little wider on his face.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Nice to meet you, too, Jinki-shii.”

.x.

From then on, Minho found himself visiting Icia every day after school. Each day he came he tried a new flavour of ice cream, having decided to embark on a quest to find his personal favourite. There was such a wide assortment at the tiny shop that he thought he might succeed one day. If he kept at it, of course, which he fully intended to do.

So far he’d tried a lot, ranging from coffee to French vanilla, ‘very berry strawberry’ – which was really just strawberry ice cream with strawberry jam swirled in – to mint chocolate chip and even caramel praline cheesecake which was surprisingly good. As of yet, he hadn’t found any flavour he would confidently call his number one but he wasn’t going to give up. He wanted to keep looking.

At the same time, he began to get closer to the attendant Lee Jinki. Spending all his afternoons at the ice cream shop with the same person, he should’ve expected it. He was getting to know Jinki better as time went by and he found that he was a very pleasant person, easily likeable and forever cheerful. Minho had never met anyone he could like so quickly but Jinki proved to be an exception. They had gotten close in a blink of an eye.

After Jinki had let slip the little fact of him being on the debating team, Minho had done some digging at the school library and discovered a gold mine of information. Lee Jinki had definitely been on the school debate team; he had been the captain, winning nationals as well as the Best Speaker title for four years in a running. Minho had found a picture of Jinki and his teammates, hugging and raising a gold trophy to show their earnings.

Not only was he an exceptional debater, he was also quite brainy. Academical records Minho had found showed that Jinki had been in the top five for scholastic achievements since he had entered high school. In his final year, he had been awarded Salutatorian status in his entire grade. He had shared a champion title with Jung Jessica at the Korean Science Fair as well as winning third place for an international Olympiad competition.

With all his notable accomplishments, it was a wonder Minho had never heard of him before. In fact, Minho had never even been aware that they had a debating team or that Konkuk High School had participated in an Olympiad competition after Kyuhyun-hyung had left. When he thought about it, however, he realised it wasn’t as surprising as it sounded.

Konkuk had always been more of a sports-based school, with its students far more interested in the goings on of their soccer team or the cheerleading squad. It was one of the main reasons Minho was so popular there, seeing as he was the captain of said soccer team, vice-captain of the basketball and hockey teams and also one of the best players for each sport. His good looks attributed to his popularity amongst his peers even more.

Therefore, it wasn’t strange that nothing about Lee Jinki or the activities he had participated in had been brought to the attention of the school community. They would have been completely drowned out by the news of what was happening in the sports tournaments and competitions that took place at the same time. Even now such information was non-existent. Minho didn’t know if they still had a debating team or not.

Jinki never mentioned about any of his school activities when he talked about himself. Minho wasn’t too surprised; Jinki didn’t seem to be the type of person to boast. However, the shopkeeper did tell him normal stuff about himself, simple things that could be shared between friends.

Jinki told him about how he was an only child of two doting parents. He himself adored his folks and strived to make them happy in any way he could. He was a student at Seoul University and had the ambition of being a technical engineer. He loved chicken (his favourite food, apparently) and ice cream, which was the reason he had taken a job at the four-month old Icia. In his free time he was usually found either at home or at the library.

Which meant he didn’t get out much. Minho didn’t know how he felt about that.

In return, Minho told Jinki about how he spent most of his time either practicing his game, hanging out with friends and, at the rarest of times, studying. His grades weren’t all too bad despite this and he had a clean record. He enjoyed school most of the time but had his fair share of problems with girls and friends. He loved eating pretty much anything, especially ice cream. Everything typical of a teenager, really. Minho was struck with the differences he could draw between their lives.

With the revealing of every tidbit, Minho found himself liking Jinki more and more. He was a genuinely nice person and the high school student found himself enjoying his time spent with the odd shopkeeper. Of course, the price that came with it was the fact that Minho was noticing Jinki more and more every day, something which he didn’t think was healthy.

A sneaky voice in his head told him he had a crush. Minho resolutely denied it. He didn’t have a crush or any sort of attraction, to anyone. It was just absurd to even consider it. He and Jinki were getting closer so it was normal to have feelings which he knew were perfectly friendly. And if those feelings were slightly (very, very slightly) different from the ones he held for his other friends, he was sure it wasn’t anything in particular. Jinki was one of a kind; that was the reason why Minho noticed him more than anyone else he had ever met.

It wasn’t a crush. He’d know it if it was.

TBC

Chapter Text

Two months since Minho had first started coming to Icia found him sitting behind the counter – he was pretty smug with himself the day Jinki invited him to, although the shopkeeper claimed it was because Minho took up space that could better be used by customers who weren’t such a bother – flipping through the menu in absolute boredom. He hadn’t yet tried even half of the various flavours the store offered but he wanted something different today. Something special, maybe.

He reached the end of the booklet, having found absolutely nothing. He sighed and Jinki glanced questioningly at him although he said nothing. Minho shrugged and looked back down at the menu. That was when he noticed a small section at the very bottom of the page. It was titled ‘Bizarre’ and written below it was only one sentence:

Refer to Server.

Curious, Minho turned to Jinki. “Hyung,” he called. “What’s this?” Jinki took a step closer and leaned down to see what Minho was talking about. Then he looked up and suddenly smiled naughtily.

Minho felt a flash of heat sear through him; he was uncomfortably warm for some reason. He stared at Jinki, completely forgetting everything he had been thinking about prior to that smile. He hadn’t known Jinki was capable of making such an expression.

“Do you want to try it?”

Minho blinked. “Try what?”

“That.” Jinki gestured at the menu. “We have a small selection of rather...unique flavours. Would you like to try one of them?”

“What kind of flavours?”

The naughty smile was enhanced and Minho had to work to remember the conversation.

“Can’t tell you,” said Jinki mischievously. “That’d ruin the surprise. Why don’t you try one of them? It might even turn out to be that elusive favourite of yours.”

Minho considered it, hesitating. Jinki raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t dare try it?” he said innocently.

Oh, that sounded like a challenge. And Choi Minho never backed down from a challenge.

“Bring it on.”

When Jinki returned, he was carrying a bowl containing a strange, reddish scoop of ice cream. Minho suspiciously eyed the dish as it was gingerly set before him. A spoon was placed in front of it.

Jinki gave him an innocuous smile. “Enjoy.”

Minho gave him a look but picked up the spoon nonetheless. He stared down at the ice cream, wondering if he should be doing this. It looked normal, but one shouldn’t be fooled by appearances. It could be poisoned, for all he knew. Jinki could be aiming to kill him; as the saying goes, it’s the nice ones you had to be careful around.

‘It’s ice cream,’ a voice, sounding eerily similar to Kibum’s, told him dryly. ‘Stop being a drama queen and eat the damn thing.’

Scandalised, – he was not a drama queen – Minho scooped up a bit of the reddish ice cream and put it in his mouth.

And immediately spit it out.

Jinki began to laugh as Minho practically dry-heaved, sticking his tongue out and coughing; his face was screwed up in disgust as he frantically looked around for something to wash his mouth with. Seeing nothing useful in arm’s reach, he jumped to his feet and dashed to the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. Jinki slumped against the counter, clutching his stomach as he laughed, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.

When Minho stormed back out, he still wore a disgusted expression and he was covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What the hell is that?” he barked, pointing accusingly at the bowl of ice cream sitting innocently where he left it.

Managing to gather himself, Jinki answered with a smirk on his face. “Fish-flavoured ice cream,” he revealed, still more than a little amused.

“Fish!?” Minho repeated in horror. “Someone made ice cream out of fish?”

“There’re all kinds of people in the world, Minho.”

“I can’t believe I put that thing in my mouth,” said Minho, flopping back down into his chair. He glared at the shopkeeper. “I can’t believe you let me.”

Jinki was too amused to feel guilty. “I just wanted to see your reaction,” he said airily, his smile sly. “I wasn’t disappointed.”

Minho glowered at him. “That was revolting,” he declared, gazing at the ice cream in extreme dislike. “Who can stomach that stuff?”

Jinki shrugged. “Japanese people, I’d guess, since they’re the ones who made it.”

Minho screwed his face up, still feeling utterly disgusted. “I’m never touching that again.”

Jinki looked at him and the smirk returned in full-force. “You know,” he said, leaning across the counter and putting a hand under his chin. “We have several more unique flavours. Since you can’t handle this one, I guess you can’t handle the others either.”

Jinki had gotten to know him too well. That was a blow straight to Minho’s pride.

“Who said so?” the student growled, feeling stung. “I haven’t tried them yet.”

“You man enough to?”

Ooh, and that was an all-out strike. There was no way Minho would back down now. And Jinki – the sneaky little tramp - knew that.

“Put down anything when I come in tomorrow,” he said firmly. “I can take whatever you hand out.”

Jinki laughed again. “We’ll see,” he said.

Minho resolutely pushed the sound of that musical laughter out of his head.

.x.

“Do you want to know what it is?” Jinki asked.

Minho looked first at him than at the tiny serving of light brown ice cream spotted with dubious-looking red chunks. Jinki had apparently gotten a heart and scooped out only a miniscule portion, enough for two bites. Minho swallowed.

“No,” he finally answered. The memory of yesterday’s fish was still fresh in his mind. He was afraid he would lose his nerve. He took up the spoon and stuck it into the ice cream. Taking a deep breath, Minho closed his eyes and put the utensil in his mouth.

“How does it taste?” Jinki asked after several seconds of silence.

“Really, really weird.” Minho’s face was pained. “It’s...sweet but in a strange way. And the...whatever the thing was, is really stringy. What is this?”

“Candied bacon ice cream. It’s pretty popular in America, from what I’ve heard.”

“The hell would someone eat that?”

“I wouldn’t know. Some people really love bacon.”

.x.

The next day Jinki set down a dish containing an ice cream several shades lighter than peach. It looked edible and not at all odd but Minho knew it wasn’t under the bizarre section for no reason. And true to his assumption, the taste succeeded in making him nauseous.

“Oh my god.” Minho groaned and laid his head on the counter. “That’s terrible.”

Jinki set down a milkshake next to him. He immediately snatched it up and began to drain the glass, desperately wanting to get rid of the sickening taste.

“That was sweet potato,” the attendant informed him.

Minho wondered what other flavours could be worse than this.

.x.

A week passed by in the same manner. Every day Jinki would have a bowl prepared with a different, so-called ‘unique’ flavour for Minho. Every day Minho would try each and every one, refusing to back down from what he viewed as a challenge to his male pride.

The flavours ranged from green tea (which was bitter) and seaweed (which tasted more medicinal than anything) to salad (which made him unable to eat vegetables for a while) and chicken wing (which even chicken-loving Jinki despised because it was so unnatural). There had even been an oyster-flavoured ice cream that gave Minho a stomach ache (since he hated clams in any and all forms) for the rest of the day, although he kept that information secret from Jinki.

‘There are some really strange people in the world,’ thought Minho as he took his usual seat behind the counter. He was almost scared to think about what he would be eating today. He wondered why he hadn’t gotten sick yet, considering the strange types of ice cream he was digesting.

“So what do you have for me today?” he said, glancing over his shoulder as Jinki exited the freezer.

The server was carrying a bowl that held a very small portion of an ordinary-looking ice cream. Then again, most of the bizarre flavours looked normal and Minho wasn’t about to be lulled into a sense of safety. He had to be cautious. Jinki seemed to be slightly hesitant and this put Minho instantly on guard. Why did the attendant look so nervous? Did he have doubts about this ice cream? Was it really so bad?

Well, he wouldn’t know until he tried.

“It’s...different from the ones you tried before,” Jinki informed him as he set the bowl down.

“Different how?” said Minho suspiciously.

“...If I told you, it’d reveal too much.”

Minho knew that if he pressed Jinki would tell him all he needed to know. But they had an unspoken agreement; Minho would eat the ice cream without knowing its name first, for his own good. He knew that all the flavours he had sampled would taste far worse if he knew their composition beforehand. It was better to just remain ignorant for the time being.

“Well, let’s see how it tastes,” Minho said, digging his spoon in the ice cream. “Can’t be all that bad, seeing what I’ve tried so far.”

He was so pathetically wrong. The taste practically exploded in his mouth, an intense, horrendous flavour that numbed his buds and forced bile to rise up in his throat. He swallowed an odd, lumpy texture embedded in the ice cream and immediately knew he needed the bathroom.

Jinki watched, torn between amusement and worry, as Minho practically vaulted over the counter and ran towards the toilet at breakneck speed. The sounds of retching filled the small store and the shopkeeper prayed no customer would come in at that moment. When Minho finally emerged ten minutes later, he was green in the face and looked utterly sickened.

“Minho?” Jinki ventured cautiously. “You okay?”

“No,” was the strained answer.

Jinki sighed and emptied the bowl into the trash can underneath the counter. Minho wobbled forward, one hand on his suffering stomach, and sat at one of the tables. Jinki quickly swirled up one of his favourite smoothies and brought it over for him.

“Better?” he said gently, a hand warm on Minho’s arm.

Minho pretended it was the smoothie and not the hand that warded away some of the nausea. “Yeah,” he said then glanced at the counter in revulsion. “What the hell was that thing?”

Jinki hesitated. “Octopus ice cream.”

Minho’s jaw dropped and the green tint returned to his pale skin. “Octopus?” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s a delicacy in Japan, after all,” said Jinki weakly. “It was bound to come to ice cream in time.”

“Ugh.” Minho buried his face in his arms. “Japanese people are crazy. Or at least some of them. That should be illegal.”

“If you thought octopus ice cream is bad, you should hear the others.”

Minho jerked up at that, face now white. “What other flavours are there?” he demanded to know. “Hyung, tell me!”

Jinki pursed his lips, thinking. “Well,” he said slowly. “There’s charcoal ice cream.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It’s this grey sort of thing. Really yucky, I tell you. The person who made it must’ve been a permanent resident at a mental hospital. That, or Santa always gave him charcoal for being a bad boy.”

Minho was too disgusted to even laugh. “What else?”

“There’s squid ice cream.”

“Squid?!”

“Yeah. Squid guts, squid ink. The works.”

“Eww.” Minho made a face. “What could be worse?” He hated himself immediately for saying that when Jinki gave him an appraising look.

“Raw horse flesh ice cream.”

Minho blanched. “R-raw?” he stuttered. “Horse?”

“Yup.” Jinki nodded. “All sorts of body parts can be found in the ice cream, like the tongue. It’s rumoured to be one of the vilest things ever created.”

“Wonder why,” Minho muttered, laying his head back down. “I give up.”

“What?” Jinki looked down at him in surprise. “You’re giving up?”

“Don’t make it sound like that,” the student grumbled. “Yes, I’m giving up. Do you really think I’d risk trying something as disgusting as octopus again? I am not touching anything that has the word squid or horse in it.”

Jinki couldn’t resist a smile that somehow managed to make Minho at least a fraction better.

“I get it,” he said. “They’re not the nicest things to eat.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve tasted them.”

Jinki shrugged, much to Minho’s abject horror. “I’m the only worker here,” he said. “Somebody has to sample all of them to make sure they’re public-worthy.”

Minho suddenly felt terribly sorry for, as well as completely in awe of Lee Jinki.

.x.

“I want to know where you’ve been disappearing off to.”

Minho blinked as Kibum slammed his pile of books down in front of him. He looked up at his miffed classmate and wondered what he was on about now.

“What are you talking about?”

“You.” Kibum huffed as he sat down on the opposite bench. “You’ve been ‘mysteriously’ disappearing every day and I have no idea where you go to. I want to know.”

“Why would you want to know?” said Minho with a furrowed eyebrow. “It’s none of your business.”

“You completely bail on me. So it is my business.”

“Kibum, I hardly ever spend time with you outside school unless I sleep over at night. I always have practice, remember?”

“That’s where your excuse dies a miserable death,” Jonghyun told him as he flopped down next to Minho. “You used to be at practice hours early to work on your own. Now you don’t show up until most of us do.”

Minho raised a disapproving eyebrow at him. “I’m always on time,” he pointed out.

“Barely.”

“So we have proof,” said Kibum, leaning forward. “You don’t hang out with me, you’re not at practice and I know you’re not at home ‘cause I asked your mom and she said you were always out before practice. So what’s the deal?”

“Look, I don’t see why this matters,” said Minho impatiently. “So what if I don’t spend all of my free time with you guys? I don’t have to.”

“You don’t, but you should tell us about it,” said Jonghyun pointedly. “We’re your best friends.”

“Definitely,” Taemin agreed as he took the empty spot beside Kibum, although he didn’t know what they were talking about. “Minho-hyung, could I ask you something?”

“What?” said Minho warily.

“Where do you disappear to after school?”

Minho groaned as Kibum straightened in triumph. “Even baby notices,” he said. “So spill.”

“What is this; an interrogation?” said Minho, glowering. “I don’t need to spill anything. It’s none of your business.”

“Dude, you, like, vanish into thin air after school,” Jonghyun said. “I mean, usually you stay at school until soccer starts or you go sleep at home.”

“Or hang out at the arcade with me,” Kibum jumped in. “However rare that may be.”

“So?” Minho said irritably. “My life doesn’t entirely comprise of you guys, you know.”

“Ouch,” said Jonghyun dryly.

“What I mean is; I don’t have to tell you guys about every single thing I do. Sometimes, what I do in my private time is private.”

Minho immediately regretted saying that as Kibum latched onto it like a rabid dog.

“Private time?” His classmate leered. “So, that must mean you have a girlfriend.”

“What? No!” Minho sputtered. “I mean; no, I don’t. Still officially single.”

“What about unofficially?”

“Kibum.” The sports fanatic glared at his classmate. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“You don’t have to be dating someone to like them,” said Jonghyun with a grin. “Maybe you have a crush so you’re going off to see her whenever you can.”

Minho’s glare intensified. “I don’t have a crush on anybody,” he said. “And I’m not going off to see anyone.”

‘Big, fat lie that is,’ the sneaky voice at the back of his head told him. ‘Both of them.’

“Then where else would you be going that you won’t tell us about it?”

They had him backed into a corner. Minho had to find a way to fend them off. Fast. “I don’t have to tell you anything!” he exclaimed. “I’m not five; I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“Of course you can,” said Jonghyun reasonably. “And we’re not stopping you. We just want to know, as your very concerned best friends, where you keep holing yourself up every day.”

“I don’t hole myself up anywhere.”

“They’re sort of right, hyung,” Taemin said. “I can’t find you at all before basketball. Your phone is always off and you’re not home. You don’t turn up anywhere until practice is about to start!”

“So?” said Minho crossly. “I’ve never been late, after all. What’s the big deal?”

“Hyung, you do remember that finals are coming up, right?”

Now Minho felt mildly insulted. “Where I’ve been going hasn’t affected my game one bit,” he said sharply.

“Right, sorry,” said Taemin hurriedly although not without sincerity. “I just mean, practice is going to crop up more now that it’s close. You’re going to have to keep your evenings free.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Minho dismissively, waving his hand. “I’ll be free. I’ll just be gone for a little while after school and then I’ll be around.”

“Where exactly are you gone at?” Kibum asked again, his curiosity burning inside him.

But no matter how many times his friends asked and bothered him, Minho refused to answer. He didn’t actually know the reason why he wanted to keep his daily visits to Icia a secret, but he was sure that if any of them knew, the other two would soon find out and all three would hound him. They would want to know everything and come up with the craziest conclusions.

He would have to be careful when he went off from now on. Knowing Kibum, he would go as far as stalking to sate whatever urge he happened to have. Minho would have to watch his back and check if he was being followed whenever he headed over to Icia. They couldn’t know about it right now. He wasn’t ready for them to find out just yet.

And he didn’t want them to know about Jinki. That was a secret he was determined to keep to himself, at least for now.

TBC

Chapter Text

That evening Minho could be found as always at the ice cream shop a block from home. He was sitting behind the counter in his usual spot, bent over a bowl of a multi-coloured ice cream Jinki had prepared for him before he arrived. Since the octopus fiasco, Jinki had apparently felt so guilty that he had taken up the cause of finding Minho’s favourite flavour upon himself. Every day when Minho came, he would be waiting with a bowl of a different ice cream for Minho to try.

Minho didn’t know why but the action caused his heart to warm up in odd ways.

“This is one is really nice,” Minho commented, scooping up another bite. “What’s it called again?”

“Cotton candy,” said Jinki, smiling as he looked up from his counter cleaning. “I figured you’d like it, you sweet-toothed freak.”

“It really does taste like cotton candy,” said the student in fascination, ignoring the jibe. “All sweet and stuff. I don’t think I’ll ever want to eat the real thing if I could just eat this. It tastes way better.”

Jinki laughed. He set down his cloth and went over to seat himself beside his friend. “You know, I’m a lot happier these days,” he said.

Minho blinked at him in confusion. “Why?” he said curiously.

“Well, before you started coming here, this place was only starting out. We didn’t have many customers yet.” Jinki’s smile was absent. “I was bored a lot. There isn’t much to do here other than clean. So I’m happy that I have someone to talk with now.”

Minho felt his face heat up when Jinki looked at him from under his lashes like that.

“I’m glad you’re here, Minho,” said the shopkeeper, blushing as the words left his mouth.

Minho couldn’t really pretend that the information didn’t thrill him. Especially since he himself thought the short time he spent at Icia was the best of his entire day. “Yeah,” he said after a while. “Me, too.”

Faces red as tomatoes, both boys were unable to look at each other. The sound of the bell tinkling signalled someone’s entering. Minho quickly ducked a little to avoid catching attention. After a second, Jinki jumped to his feet, his expression a cross between shock and delight.

“Taeyeon-ah!” he exclaimed. “Sunny-ah!”

Minho watched as two females approached the counter. They were small, short people with pretty faces and fashionable taste judging from their clothing. They looked to be around Jinki’s age despite their size, and both were carrying bags designed to hold more than just cosmetics. Minho instantly recognised them. He had seen them once before in a picture, when he was researching about Jinki.

They were Jinki’s teammates from the debate team.

“Hello, Jinki-ah,” said the shorter of the two, Sunny, with a bright grin. “Long time no see.”

“I should be saying the same thing,” said Jinki, and his smile was so happy, Minho began to feel his hackles rise. “What are you doing in Seoul? I thought you two were studying in Daegu.”

“Of course we are,” said Taeyeon as she looked around the shop in interest. “But we’re having break right now and came back home. Umma told me you were working here so we decided to visit.”

“Hyoyeon-ah says hi, by the way,” Sunny told him. “She wanted to come back but she’s busy with her dance team and all. She misses you.”

Minho’s stomach clenched at that. He tried to ignore it.

“I miss her, too.” Jinki’s smile was warm. “And I missed you guys as well. How are you?”

“Perfect,” Taeyeon said happily. “Living there isn’t as bad as we thought it would be. Since we had our friends with us, it was okay. It’s great now that we’re used to the schedule and class and all.”

“Sounds you like it there, after all. I remember a certain time where all you did was complain about having to study there.”

Taeyeon stuck her tongue out at him. Sunny leaned across the counter.

“So,” she said with a sly grin. “What have you been doing without us to take care of you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Jinki, affronted.

The girls laughed. “I’m surprised you haven’t wound up in the hospital yet,” Sunny teased.

“I’m not that bad.”

“Oh, please,” Taeyeon scoffed despite the grin pulling at the corner of her lips. “It’s a miracle you went this long without losing a limb.”

Minho had to admit she had a point.

“I’ve been fine,” said Jinki, apparently deciding to ignore the playful dig. “College just like you guys. Umma thought I should get out of the house more so she got me this job.”

“She’s got a point,” said Sunny pointedly. “I bet you’d be holed up in either the public library or at your personal one if you didn’t have to work right now.”

The shopkeeper turned pink. “So, err...what’s happening?” he said lamely in a pitiful attempt to change the subject.

They dissolved into laughter again as Minho rolled his eyes.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Jinki,” said Taeyeon, her eyes glittering with amusement.

Jinki grinned at her.

“I can still remember that time at Jessica’s party,” said Sunny, an entertained expression on her face. “Everyone stayed over, remember?”

Jessica. Jinki’s partner for the school science fair. Minho glanced over curiously when Jinki groaned. Clearly he remembered it too well. The student wondered what was so bad about it.

“You fell asleep together with Sooyoung-ah and Heechul-oppa on the bed,” said Taeyeon gleefully, causing Minho to stiffen.

“You’re expression when you woke up was priceless!” said Sunny in delight, looking entertained.

“It was terrible!” Jinki argued. “Heechul-hyung kept teasing about it.”

“Yeah, he kept saying you guys had a threesome but you just don’t remember. Oh, I had a stomach ache the entire day from laughing so much.” Taeyeon snickered.

“Stop talking about it!”

Minho tuned out of the conversation, unable to listen to anymore. He regarded the trio distantly, watching the easy way in which they interacted although it had been a while since they’d met up. Jinki was clearly close to these girls if he could act so at ease with them. It had taken quite a while before he acted like that with Minho.

‘What does that have to do with anything?’

Nothing. It wasn’t anything to be fretting over. Jinki had only just met him, after all, of course he hadn’t warmed up immediately. He’d known Taeyeon and Sunny for years. They were the same age, they worked together on the same team. It made perfect sense that they were close. There was nothing to worry about.

Minho watched as Sunny reached over and squeezed Jinki’s hand. Fire laced through his stomach and his nails nearly cut into his palm from the tight fist his hand had curled into.

He was jealous, he realised with a start. That was the only explanation as to why he was so wound up right now. He didn’t like the way Jinki was so friendly with these people, platonic though it was. There could’ve easily been more than friendship between them in the years they had known each other and the very thought of it made Minho want to break something.

He tried not to think about the implications of it all. Clearly he had a crush. Why else would he feel jealous? Despite his denial, despite his attempts at stomping out the possibly, he had begun to have feelings for Jinki. Question was; what to do with them? It wasn’t like the crush would amount to anything. He had to leave it alone and wait for the day it would die and leave him in peace.

With that resolution in mind, Minho looked back down at his cotton candy ice cream. He found on the next bite that it wasn’t as appetising as it had been before.

.x.

Cherry was a particularly nice flavour, Minho decided a few days later. The simple flavour calmed his somewhat strained nerves. He wouldn’t mind choosing it as his favourite if no better option presented itself.

Tomorrow was the basketball game. He needed to get to practice soon. But he didn’t really want to; he preferred staying here, in the cool, air-conditioned Icia. When he was in here, it was like he was in another world or something. Separated from the outside, situated in a place inhabited only by him and Jinki. Just the two of them. Alone. Together.

‘Stop that line of thinking right there.’

Minho groaned silently and spooned another scoop of ice cream. Finals were tomorrow. He had to focus, not think about Jinki or Icia. He had to get his priorities in order. Tomorrow’s game was the most important one in the season. It was his last chance at the championship title. He needed to win this one.

Although...it would be rather nice to have Jinki there.

“Hey, hyung,” said Minho, looking up from his treat to watch Jinki mop the floor.

Jinki hummed distractedly in response.

 “I was wondering.”

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow’s the basketball game.”

“Is it?” Jinki raised his head to give Minho his brightest, warmest smile. “Good luck, then. I’m sure you’ll win this one. You always do.”

Minho ignored the violent flip his stomach gave at the double combo of smile and compliment. “I definitely hope so,” he said with a grin. “I’d kill myself if we lose this year.”

Jinki grimaced. “That isn’t funny,” he reprimanded.

Minho’s grin only widened. “Anyway,” he said, straightening in his seat. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“Will you come?”

Jinki’s movements stilled. Slowly, he raised his head again, locking eyes with the sincere Minho. “What?”

“Will you come to the game?” said the student again. “It’d be great if you were there.”

Jinki blinked then hesitated. “I don’t know if I can make it, Minho,” he said uneasily. “I have work. Here. Closing up and all.”

Minho thought about it. “I think it’d still be running after closing hours,” he said, glancing at the clock. “The game starts at four.  Closing time’s at five-thirty right? You should be able to catch the second half.”

Jinki bit his lip, shifting uncertainly. “I’m not sure,” he said finally. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

Minho sensed the older boy’s caution. “There’s no pressure, hyung,” he said gently. “All I’m saying is I’d like you to be there. You don’t have to come, though; I don’t mind, really. You can do whatever you feel comfortable with. I won’t force you.”

‘Even if it would be nice if you were there,’ his traitorous mind whispered.

“Okay.”

An awkward atmosphere settled over them. Jinki still seemed to be uncomfortable. Minho decided he had to do something to break it..

“So, what else can you offer me?” he said, grin returning as he held up an empty bowl. “This was nice but surely you have better.”

It worked; Jinki gave him a dry look and placed his hands on his hips. “One flavour’s enough for a day,” he said in a reprimanding tone. “If you want any more, buy something.”

Minho laughed and tried not to think about how grateful Jinki had looked for a moment when he changed topics.

.x.

The stands were packed. The sound of chatter and cheers permeated the air as the cheerleading squads of the competing teams performed before the spectators. The first half was over. Konkuk High was leading by three points and school morale was high. It looked like they were going to win.

Minho took a swig from his water bottle, gulping the water down his parched throat. His brow and sports jersey was soaked with sweat; the product of his vigorous play on the court. He was mostly satisfied with himself. Aside for that one incident when the ball had been snatched from him by his opponent – he was still a bit upset over that, bastard Junho –, the game had gone smoothly. If it continued like this, the champion title was theirs.

Large, dark eyes drifted across the audience absently, ignoring the swarm of girls trying to attract his attention and the exuberant roaring of his more extreme fans when they caught his gaze. He blinked when he caught sight of a familiar face at the very top of the stands and his fingers tightened on his bottle.

Jinki, clad in a green sweater and white slacks, waved at him shyly. He was wearing glasses; they made him look adorable, in Minho’s opinion. Grinning rather stupidly, Minho waved back, which caused screams to erupt from the over-excited crowd. Taemin, who sat on the bench next to him, glanced over his shoulder in curiosity.

“Who are you waving at?” he asked.

“No one,” Minho deflected easily, although he couldn’t completely wipe the silly smile off his face. “Come on, game’s about to start again.”

Taemin gave him a speculative look but in the end he dropped it. The game was more important right now. He’d throttle it out of Minho later.

.x.

They had won. In the heart-stopping final moments in which the two teams had been tied, Minho had managed to score their winning three-pointer right as the bell rang to end the game. They had won the game and with it the championship title.

Upon seeing Minho being mauled over by his ecstatic teammates and fans, Jinki had decided that there was no way he would be able to talk to him now. It was better to wait somewhere until the round of congratulations from the student body had ended. But where would be the best spot?

He ended up choosing to wait outside the locker room for the basketball team. If anything, this was the one place he was sure Minho would arrive to, eventually. All he had to do was be patient until the festivities were calm and Minho would come to change. It turned out he didn’t have to wait long.

“Jinki-hyung!”

Jinki looked up and smiled when he saw Minho dashing down the hall towards him. The smile was quickly wiped away by surprise as the basketball player rushed right into him, sweeping Jinki up into a swirling hug. The older boy tensed for a moment before relaxing; he hesitantly slipped his arms around the other, hands fisting at the back of Minho’s sweaty jersey as he returned the embrace.

“We won, hyung!” Minho exclaimed, face split into the biggest grin he could muster as he squeezed his friend in his arms. “We won the championship!”

“Congratulations,” said Jinki sincerely, laughing. “You were amazing out there.”

Minho pulled back slightly so he could look the other in the face. He abruptly realised the position they were in; Minho, with his long arms tightly holding Jinki close to him and Jinki with his own wrapped around Minho’s waist. Heat pooled in his gut and something tugged at his heart strings. He remembered his impossible crush. If he wanted to get out it quickly, it would do no good to encourage it further.

Gently, Minho released Jinki and stepped back, careful to look natural so he wouldn’t hurt the older boy’s feelings. He felt light-headed, almost dizzy even; partly from the long-awaited victory and partly from the sweet smile Jinki was now flashing at him.

“I’m glad you came,” said Minho quietly, genuinely. “I didn’t think you would.”

“It was a last minute decision, actually.” Jinki rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry I was late. I only made up my mind while closing shop. I wasn’t really planning to go before but...I wanted to see you.”

He studiously avoided looking into Minho’s eyes. The younger boy felt his face caught fire and he knew he was probably as red as Jinki was now. For some reason, knowing that Jinki had come just to see him made Minho feel elated. His stomach was performing acrobatics. He didn’t even know why something like that could make him so happy.

He cleared his throat. “So, err...what are you doing now?”

“Other than standing here with you?” Jinki teased. Minho stuck his tongue out at him and the older boy laughed. “I have dinner with my parents in a little while.”

“So you’re no free?” Minho was irrationally disappointed by that fact. “Not even later tonight?”

“No, sorry.” Jinki was the picture of regret. “I’m spending the whole night with them. But I promise we’ll celebrate tomorrow, though, okay?”

“...Yeah, sure.” Minho smiled convincingly to assuage the other’s worries. He didn’t want Jinki to know just how let down he felt.

Jinki touched his arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said softly, turning.

“Bye,” Minho returned just as softly. He watched as Jinki walked away and felt his heart twist in a sweet pain.

‘Stop it,’ he thought firmly. ‘It’ll just end badly.’

It was true. Falling for Jinki was probably a bad idea—he didn’t know what exactly was bad about it but it was. This stupid crush was just that; a stupid crush. Soon it would fade so all Minho had to do was wait. It wasn’t the reason he felt so eager for tomorrow to come so he could visit Icia. The ice cream there was mouth-watering and he had a mission to complete, after all, which was he kept returning. That was it and that was all it would ever be.

But that didn’t explain why Minho could still feel Jinki’s warm touch on his arm.

.x.

Weeks passed by after the game. Each day Minho spent some time at Icia; on the weekends, he could be found there from opening until closing. It had become routine for him to visit at least once a day.

With the amount of time they spent together, it wasn’t a surprise that Jinki and Minho were getting closer. Minho could easily say that Jinki knew him as well as Kibum did, and he hoped the same could be said for him. He was learning more and more about Jinki and he couldn’t say most of what he found out didn’t thrill him.

Jinki made his days brighter. He thought that was true, crush or not.

Minho felt happy with the arrangement really. It didn’t trouble him in any way and being at the little ice cream shop cheered him up a good deal after a stressful day at school. Exams were coming up and Jinki was helping by tutoring him when he studied at Icia. He was glad.

Despite getting plenty of chances, Minho didn’t try to take things further. He had realised that his crush would take a while to disappear but he didn’t want to pursue it. He wasn’t even sure if Jinki was gay, straight or possibly bisexual. He didn’t want to make any advances for fear of getting rejected and losing their friendship which he held so close to his heart. Better to keep quiet and enjoy what contact they already had.

About two months since the fateful basketball game, Minho was packing his school bag after a long day of school. He briefly wondered what flavour Jinki had set out for him this time. He had loved yesterday’s caramel praline cheesecake; it had been absolutely heavenly. Would today’s sample be as delicious? He hoped so.

“Minho.”

The soccer captain looked up in question only to see Kibum standing in front of him, arms crossed and a terrifying grin on his face. Behind him stood their friends Jonghyun and Taemin, both looking determined. Minho was instantly on guard.

“What?” he said warily.

“Where are you going?”

“...Somewhere,” Minho replied evasively. He still couldn’t trust Kibum, or the other two either. He didn’t want any of them to know where he disappeared to everyday. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if Jinki met his three eccentric best friends.

The grin widened. It was starting to scare Minho a little bit.

“Well, you’re not going today.”

That got Minho’s ears perking up. “Why not?” he said frowning. ‘Who’s going to stop me?’ he added silently.

“We have a party to go to,” Jonghyun informed him snobbishly. “You can’t miss it. Everyone’s going.”

Minho wrinkled his nose. He had never liked parties. “Exams are coming up,” he said.

“It’s a de-stress party, hyung,” replied Taemin, quick as a whip. “We have to relax, too. We can’t just study all the time or we’ll explode. So we’re having this last party to release all the tension.”

“I don’t have tension.”

“You’re going,” Kibum told him firmly. “It’ll do you some good. You’ve been pretty wired lately.”

“I haven’t been wired,” said Minho immediately. Well, not by exams at any rate. Being around Jinki was proving to be a bit of a strain these days, especially when Minho kept noticing the most absurd things about him, like how long his eyelashes were, and the endearing way he so freely laughed out loud and—

‘Not the time,’ he snapped at himself.

“Yes, you are. And so is everyone else. And the cure—” Kibum wiggled his eyebrows. “—is to party.”

Minho stared at him. “I’m not going,” he said flatly.

Minutes later he found himself being dragged into the house – which was pretty big, he couldn’t help but notice – where the party was being held, amidst heated protests and repeated attempts to escape. But Jonghyun and Kibum held him fast and forced him down onto the couch. He sat there, pouting and glaring at them.

“Try and have some fun, hyung,” said Taemin, handing him a cup of some sort of juice. “I’m sure you can miss going wherever you always go for just today.”

Deep down, Minho knew he was right. He visited Jinki every day, it wouldn’t hurt to break the routine just once. He had to spend time with his friends, too. He couldn’t devote all his time to the ice cream shop. It was a good idea to relax out with kids his own level once in a while. There wasn’t anything wrong with that.

He didn’t do a very good job of convincing himself with that. He tried, really, he did, to mingle amongst the others. For hours he chatted and laughed, teased and made jokes at all the appropriate times. There was never a lack of people to socialise with; it seemed everyone he knew was there. He danced, gorged on cheese chips and watermelon punch, hung out with his friends and even flirted a little bit with some kids – this time, he didn’t differentiate between men and women – who had caught his eye. He did everything one was supposed to do at a party.

But for the entire time he kept fidgeting. His thoughts constantly ran on a particular tangent, staying at the forefront of his mind and refusing to disappear despite his better efforts at actually trying. What was happening at Icia right now? What was Jinki doing? Were there a lot of customers today? Did anything special happen?

‘Stop it,’ Minho told himself sternly. ‘You can’t enjoy yourself if you keep thinking about it.’

He had to forget about Jinki and Icia. Today was for partying. He could always go tomorrow; it wasn’t like there was anything wrong with that. He didn’t have to go every day. He was there only for the ice cream, after all. It wouldn’t vanish after a single day. He just had to forget about it, at least for the time being. Jinki would understand.

But then, unbidden, an image of Jinki rose in his mind. Minho could see him waiting behind the counter, chin on hand, staring off into space with the occasional glance to the clock. In front of him sat a bowl of ice cream. It was melting.

Minho felt his heart twist painfully and he was jerked out of the image. He blinked rapidly.

“Minho?” said Jonghyun curiously when he saw his friend’s expression. “What is it?”

Minho stared at him and made a choice. “I have to go,” he muttered, shoving his cup into his friend’s hands. “I’ll see you later.”

“What?” But Minho was turning and moving away. “Hey, wait—Minho!”

Minho didn’t hear him. He was already running, out of the house and onto the street, going as fast as his legs would carry him. The sound of his rapid heartbeat thundered in his ears; it was the only thing he could hear. Breathing became difficult, harsh pants that escaped his lips with difficulty but he refused to slow down. His lungs screamed and he ignored them.

He took a precious moment to glance at his watch and felt his panic rising. It was already five-thirty. Icia should be closing by now. Was he too late? He forced himself to go faster. He arrived on the left street and sped up, practically flying over the pavement, flitting through the people as he headed for the small ice cream store.

His breathing was laboured and scarce; his lungs tortured in his chest. His heart practically thudded against his ribcage as though trying to burst free. But he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t afford to. The pain from the lack of oxygen was nothing compared to the pain stabbing through him for the image still burned into his mind. He needed to get to Jinki.

He only slowed down when Icia came into sight. Harsh breathing hitched in an inaudible gasp of relief when Minho spotted the lone figure standing before the shop, keys in one hand. It was closing time; Jinki was locking the door after a long day of hard work.

“Jinki!” Minho called, voice strained due to lack of breath. But Jinki heard him. He jerked his head up and stared.

“Minho?” he said in disbelief.

As Minho skidded forward, narrowly avoiding a collision with the older boy, he could only think of one thing.

‘I’m not too late.’

TBC

Chapter Text

“Wha...what are you doing here?” said Jinki, blinking up at the taller boy in shock.

Minho’s chest heaved from the earlier exertion as he fought to regain breath. He braced himself, hands on his knees, panting and glancing up at the shopkeeper at certain intervals.

“Looking...for you,” he managed to make out.

Jinki gaped at him. “M-me?” he repeated. “Why would you be looking for me?”

Minho straightened after a moment, the burn in his lungs lessening as he finally inhaled enough oxygen to talk properly. “I come here everyday, don’t I?” he said, trying to smile as if he were making a joke. He wasn’t very successful.

Jinki stared at him, startled. “I...yeah,” he said slowly. “But I...I thought that—I waited but you didn’t show up so I thought...well, I thought you weren’t coming.”

Minho winced, feeling guilty. Jinki’s eyes widened the minute the words left his mouth, when he realised what he had just said.

“Not that you have any obligation to be here or anything!” he said hastily, trying to correct himself. “I mean, it’s your life and of course you can do whatever you want with it and it is your time to spend and everything. It’s not like you have to come every day anyway; I’m sure you have better things to do and I don’t really have the right to expect anything from you and—”

“Jinki,” Minho said, cutting the older boy off. Jinki stared at him with wide eyes. Minho gazed at him for a long second and then the corner of his lips quirked in a little smile. “Want to grab some dinner with me?” he asked.

Jinki’s mouth dropped open and he stared at the taller boy in a cross between amazement and confusion. “W-what...but I...you...” He stopped, swallowed and shook his head violently to himself. “Erm...yeah,” he stuttered out a second later, flushing deeply. “That sounds great.”

Minho’s smile seemed to expand but he only nodded. “Come on,” he said. “There’s a cafe nearby. I hear the chicken there’s great.”

“Chicken?” Jinki said, brightening instantly.

Minho laughed.

It turned out that the cafe was closed that day due to unspecified reasons, so they ended up at a fast-food restaurant instead. Minho was glowering just a little bit, annoyed that his original plans for a cozy, romantic dinner had been foiled. Sitting across from him, Jinki smiled.

“I really don’t mind, Minho,” he said reassuringly. “As long as the place has chicken, I’m all for it.”

The student couldn’t help but grin in amusement at that. “You sure this is okay?”

Jinki winked at him as the waiter came up. “Chicken is always okay, Minho-ah,” he said wisely, causing the other boy to abruptly start laughing.

Later, after an admittedly nice and fulfilling dinner, they found themselves walking down the street away from the restaurant. It was already dark out, with the short hand on Jinki’s watch passing the tiny eight figure. The street lights provided enough light for them to see where they were going and they didn’t have to worry about bumping into the few pedestrians walking around.

“—a whole kindergarten class came in!” Jinki exclaimed, as he recounted a memorable incident that happened at Icia that afternoon. “The teacher told me they were on a school trip. There were so many of them running around and it was so noisy! The shop was in total chaos and it was so hard trying to keep up with all of them. They each wanted different flavours and some wanted double scoops while others wanted triples and sundaes and milkshakes and all that stuff. I was exhausted when they finally left.”

Minho grinned in amusement. “If only I’d been there,” he said wistfully. “That would’ve been a sight to see.”

Jinki snorted. “They don’t pay me enough to handle that,” he complained. “I should get a co-worker. Or at least a raise! I’m going to grow old fast at this rate.”

“You’re already old.”

“Yah!”

Minho chuckled, a smile that couldn’t be blamed entirely on his amusement playing at his lips, and tilted his head back as a breeze ruffled past them. In the sky above the stars were just barely visible amidst wispy clouds. Jinki glanced at him speculatively.

“So, erm...” He hesitated, looking down at his feet. “Where did you go anyway?”

“Where did I go?” Minho looked at him, puzzled.

“Since you weren’t at Icia,” the older boy clarified. “What were you doing?”

Minho pursed his lips and decided there was no harm in telling him the truth. “At a party,” he said. “My friends dragged me over to ‘destress’, or at least that’s what they called it.”

“Your finals are coming up, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Not really,” said Minho, surprised at himself by how honest the words actually were. “I haven’t hung out with my friends in a while so that was nice but I just couldn’t stop thinking about Icia. And the party was everything it should be but you know what? I think I much rather prefer trying out all those flavours you have and looking for that perfect one.”

Jinki didn’t say anything for a while but then he sighed. He looked up at Minho. They had both stopped walking, although neither could remember when that had happened. The light of the lamppost shone directly on them, encircling them in a golden glow. The few people bustling by didn’t give them a second glance; the sight of teenagers out was more than normal especially on a Friday night.

“Minho, can I ask you something?” Jinki said uncertainly.

“Yeah?”

The older boy gazed at him inscrutably. “Erm...” He hesitated then ploughed on determinedly. “Will you tell me why you come to Icia everyday?”

Minho stayed quiet for a while, carefully mulling the question over in his mind.

“Well,” he finally spoke, his tone serious but sincere. “For one, it has really good ice cream.”

Jinki snorted and shoved him. But the student wasn’t done yet.

“And for another...” Minho’s smile became soft and just a little diffident. “I get to see you everyday,” he admitted.

Jinki blushed a becoming red and to Minho’s utter relief, he was smiling. He decided to take it as a good sign, feeling his courage rear its head up approvingly. He leaned down slightly as Jinki raised his head to look him in the eye. He took a step forward, decreasing the distance between them. Minho smiled and then pressed their lips together.

The kiss was slow and languid. Minho’s tongue gently pushed its way into Jinki’s mouth, granted easy access, and licked at the interior, shivering at the feelings rushing through him. Jinki made a small noise and pushed forward a little more, his hand warm on Minho’s elbow. His other hand stroked Minho’s cheek and his tongue came up to tangle with the appendage possessing his warm cavern.

Eventually they parted and Jinki pressed their foreheads together as they panted slightly. He looked into Minho’s large, doe-like eyes, and his own crinkle at the corners as he smiled. Minho licked his lips, grinning. He reached out to clasp Jinki’s hand in his. They reluctantly pulled away and started to walk again.

Jinki’s cheeks were red as their entwined fingers swung between them. “Hey, Minho,” he said as they reached a corner.

“Yeah, hyung?”

“Are you coming tomorrow?”

Minho took a second to glance at the older boy and gave him a warm smile. “Of course, why?”

“Oh, we have a new flavour,” Jinki told him earnestly. “I was going to give it to you today but you can try it tomorrow. It’s really nice. Who knows, it could even be your favourite.”

Minho hummed in thought. “Maybe,” he agreed. “I’ll definitely be there to try it anyway.”

Jinki blinked at him when he felt his hand being squeezed in Minho’s grip. The taller one sent him a side-long smile, riddled with more emotion that Jinki had ever seen before.

“But I’ve already found my favourite flavour,” said Minho softly.

Jinki coloured again but he couldn’t help but beam at Minho, squeezing back.

“That’s good, then,” he said lightly. “But, you know, you don’t have a second favourite yet. I guess we have to keep trying.”

Minho grinned. He certainly had no objections with that. He did love ice cream, after all.

END