Chapter Text
mid-October
Junhui is Minghao’s best friend. Minghao’s very sure of this. Which is why he feels like he has some authority when he proposes the following theory.
Something’s wrong with Junhui.
And not in the “he’s a weird, hyperactive prankster, oh god please calm down” way that Minghao usually expects. Junhui’s been avoiding him and acting weird on stage. By “acting weird on stage”, Minghao means he notices that Junhui’s making sure he’s never standing near Minghao, and if he is, then it’s not for long. So it would technically also go under avoiding.
Minghao’s also gotten used to Junhui coming to him whenever he’s anxious or needs help. Junhui hasn’t done that in a while. Typically, Minghao would just assume that means Junhui has no anxiousness he needs help with, but that doesn’t feel like the case, especially with all the stages going on lately.
At one point on stage, the MC across the stage asks Junhui if he’s learned any new pickup lines he’d like to share with fans. Minghao looks at him in anticipation, being the one most frequently on the receiving end of Junhui’s pickup lines, and notices Junhui quickly make eye contact with him before turning the opposite direction and putting a hand on Hansol’s shoulder to tell him a pun-based pickup line.
Interesting. Time for experimentation. At the next venue, he decides to stand next to Junhui and put a hand on his shoulder and asks Junhui if he’s learned any new pickup lines. Junhui looks at him like he’s never seen him before and asks “What’s wrong with you?” in Japanese in exaggerated disgust. They’re not even in Japan this time, but sure.
Final experiment. Next day, same venue, same question, standing right beside Junhui. Junhui makes an over-the-top shocked face and wanders all the way over to Jihoon to say the pickup line.
During a break, where they’re prepping while the Vocal Team performs for a set, Minghao pulls Junhui aside.
“Are you okay?”
Junhui doesn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, just tired, but I’ll get through it.”
“Jun-ah, look at me,” Minghao says, concerned. “If you’re feeling anxious, you know you can always come to me, right?”
Junhui does look at him but his eyes aren’t lit up the way they usually are; they’re slightly dull and unhappy. Maybe he is really tired. “I know, Myungho,” he says with a nod.
Minghao points a finger and lowers his head, and hopes he doesn’t look too much like a scolding school teacher. "You..." you're okay, right?, is what he's about to say. Junhui knows him well enough to be able to read that in his eyes and tone anyway.
"Yeah," is Junhui's shaky reply, bringing a hand to rub the side of his neck.
There's, what Minghao hopes is, a firm look in his eyes when he makes the pointing gesture again. You're sure?, is the message there this time.
Junhui nods again with a sharp squeeze of his eyes and heads off to one of the dressing rooms.
He doesn't want to insult Junhui by not believing him, so he accepts this and walks off. Junhui will tell Minghao on his own when he's ready.
Minghao’s theory and experiments ended with no real conclusion. He was sure that something was off with Junhui, he just can’t prove it and he also doesn’t know what it was.
Two weeks have gone by since that day and Junhui hasn’t brought it up or come to him about it. Most shows have wrapped up but he hasn’t seen much of Junhui, just glimpses here and there. But from what he’s seen, Junhui seems to have returned to the same hyperactive flirty prankster. Minghao figures whatever was wrong, Junhui must’ve worked out on his own.
Either way, Minghao is sitting with his feet outstretched on the bed and reading about identity in feudal Japan. Or he was, until Wonwoo knocks on his door and peers in through a small opening.
"Hey, can I talk to you?"
Minghao makes a note of where he left off in his book, sticks a bookmark in there, and stashes it aside. "Yeah, sure, come in," he swings his legs around to sit cross-legged and gestures for Wonwoo to sit in the now-vacant spot in front of him. "What's up?"
Wonwoo lets out a relieved chuckle of an exhale and makes a point to close the door gently behind him. He approaches far too anxiously for Minghao to not be concerned, so he raises his brows in curiosity and leans forward until Wonwoo actually sits down.
"Hmm?"
Wonwoo opts to sit with his legs facing forward, rubbing his palms on his legs with another nervous exhale. "It's just um…"
Minghao waits quietly for Wonwoo to gather his thoughts. He feels like if he takes his eyes off Wonwoo for a second, he’ll miss something. His anxiousness reminds Minghao a bit of Junhui.
"Have you spoken to Junnie lately?" Wonwoo finally gets out. Speaking of Junhui .
"Sure," Junhui's been fine lately as far as he knows. They’ve spoken, but it’s been small occasions here and there. “Why? Is he okay?”
"He's been coming to me more often lately, and I know he usually goes to you so I was just wondering—" Wonwoo stops himself. "I wanted to ask if something happened between you two, like a fight or something like that?"
Minghao's not quite sure what to do with this. "He's been fine whenever I saw him?" He says with a curious tilt of his head. Granted, whenever he did see Junhui, it’s been fairly brief lately, but the point still stands. "I can’t think of anything like a fight though, sorry."
At first, Minghao thought he was imagining that Junhui speaking to him less or almost avoiding him was a coincidence, but Wonwoo mentioning it makes it seem like it’s not entirely in Minghao’s head.
Wonwoo pushes his glasses up by the bridge as he lets out a sort of soulless chuckle. "Ah, I see." He stands up. "Don't worry about it then."
Something's up. "He seemed off about something a couple weeks ago, but he said he was fine when I asked, so I left it," Minghao offers, hoping Wonwoo will add more onto that.
"Ah yeah," Wonwoo says, as if he's recalling something.
Curious. "Did he say anything to you?"
"No more so than usual," Wonwoo supplies vaguely, stretching backward in an exaggerated cat-like manner. Even more curious.
It was probably a dumb question to ask, considering that Minghao already knew Wonwoo wouldn't tell him anything about Junhui that Junhui didn't say to Minghao himself. He's loyal like that.
"Don't worry me like that," Minghao says with a grin as he stands up to shake Wonwoo. He has to lighten the mood somehow. "I thought something bad was happening," he pats Wonwoo's chest and may have let out a giggle.
Wonwoo, on the other hand, doesn't play along. "I think you might need to talk to him," is all he says, standing up straight again. "I don’t think he would approach you first about this, and it's not that I can't handle it—I mean I can, I just don't think I'm the one he should be talking to, y'know?"
What happened to ‘ Don’t worry about it then’? "No, I don't know," Minghao says.
Minghao knows how anxious Junhui gets sometimes, especially with performances, so he also knows that going to confront him about it won't help. Minghao has always given Junhui the space he needs to work things out on his own, but also makes sure Junhui knows that he can come to him if it gets too much.
Junhui knows that, so if it were related to one of those worries, he would've come to Minghao by now. But he hasn’t, so Minghao doesn't know. He says this much to Wonwoo while adding, "I don't wanna push him."
There's a long, strange silence before Wonwoo puts his hand on Minghao's shoulder and says, "I get it," with a resigned exhale.
When Wonwoo leaves his room moments later, Minghao still isn't sure what Wonwoo means.
-----
"Maybe you went too far on something," Mingyu says in a distracted tone, leaning forward on the kitchen counter to squint at his phone perched nicely in the stand. "I need more onion? I thought I got enough already."
Minghao makes a grunt of acknowledgment, chin sitting in his hands and elbows resting on the kitchen island counter across from where Mingyu is figuring out the vegetables he needs to chop. "Maybe. But he’s good at telling me when that happens."
"Why don't you just talk to him?" Mingyu says as he dices up the onion that he just plucked from the fridge.
"Junnie usually comes to me on his own."
"Did you ever think that that's the problem?" The onions hit the pot with a sizzle as Mingyu smiles proudly down on it.
Minghao doesn't respond but is definitely paying more attention.
Mingyu seems to have noticed so he continues, "Like, if you come to me all the time and I never tell you anything that's on my mind, how would you feel about it?"
"You don't have anything on your mind, though," Minghao says a little too quickly, but there's no real bite behind it as he giggles. His lips form a tight line, holding in more laughter and looking at up Mingyu expectantly for a reaction.
"Fuck you, you know what I mean," Mingyu starts tossing the onions around in the pan. "He tells you all these things he's worried about and you don't tell him much about anything remotely close to that cold, iron, walled-off heart of yours. At least that's how I'm hearing it."
Minghao pauses. "I don't have anything like that that I don't already say to everyone already though." Minghao is blunt and not scared of saying what's on his mind. Everyone is painfully aware of this.
"Insecurities, nothing?" Mingyu supplies. "C'mon, everyone has them. I'm not saying tell me but maybe Jun thinks he's not special to you because he pours his guts out to you and he might feel like you don't trust him enough with yours."
"I tell him stuff," Minghao says through a pout as he repositions himself on his seat. "He knows I trust him."
Mingyu finally seems about ready to throw some meat into the pan. "Look, I'm just guessing here, you're closer to him than I am."
This shuts Minghao up for a while. He would make a bad joke about how Mingyu should ask Wonwoo to ask Junhui for him but Minghao doesn't see the point in beating around the bush like that.
But if he confronts Junhui, would that mean that Minghao doesn't trust him as much as he thought he did? Minghao has never told Junhui but it's a line he's never been interested in crossing. Confronting Junhui was never an option because Minghao always wanted to make sure the other was comfortable enough to come to him first. It was a weird unspoken rule he had with himself.
Mingyu must've been thankful for the silence because his pot of food is just about done, and he breaks Minghao out of his thoughts by asking him to get the bowls for him to start distributing the food.
Minghao is about to offer to round up the members when Junhui walks into the kitchen. Minghao half-stands from his seat and is about to say something but freezes. Junhui passes behind Mingyu on his way to the fridge, returning with a water bottle, stopping when he sees the food in front of Mingyu.
"Guys, food!" Junhui yells in his usual tone, doing an awkward one-arm hug at Mingyu's back. Minghao finally gets a good look and sees that his eyes are a bit redder than usual and slightly puffy.
"Junhui?" Minghao starts in a questioning tone, not realizing he used the Mandarin pronunciation, and makes a pointing gesture to his own eyes.
Junhui looks slightly surprised and blinks a couple of times. He puts the water bottle down on the counter to prod around his eyes with the sides of his index fingers, blinking rapidly.
"Did the onions get you?" Minghao continues, still not noticing he slipped into Mandarin.
"Ahh," Junhui dabs the heel of his palm onto his eyes. "I was watching a sad drama with Wonwoo," he replies in Korean. Junhui grabs a bowl in front of Mingyu, along with his water bottle, as he heads out. He doesn't forget to call out a “thanks for the food,” to Mingyu.
Minghao is about to say something but the other members have already piled in and grabbed at the closest bowl they can, each calling out their thanks to Mingyu.
When Wonwoo appears, his eyes look fine.
"What drama are you watching with Junnie?" Minghao asks suddenly.
"Drama?" Wonwoo replies, taking his bowl and slurping some black bean noodles into his mouth. He looks to Mingyu, as if hoping he would fill in the blanks for him through eye telepathy of their own.
"Junnie just passed by and Minghao said his eyes were ... something, I'm not sure," Mingyu pauses and makes a face, "and Jun said he was watching a sad drama with you," he finishes with a sigh, leaning one hand against the counter.
"I thought the onions you diced affected his eyes!" Minghao says in a more defensive tone than he'd like. "He was kinda red-eyed and teary."
Mingyu raises his hands in mock defense and takes a small step back, "You didn't say that in Korean so I wouldn't know."
Oh. Minghao really didn't notice.
"Ahh," Wonwoo says while chewing. Minghao feels like he's heard Wonwoo make that acknowledgement noise more often than he's heard anything else lately. "That bastard must have watched some episodes ahead of me," it's not entirely convincing when he says that, but Wonwoo still makes his way back to the same room that Junhui did without another word.
Minghao must have been making a sour face because Mingyu hits his shoulder lightly with a towel. He’s about to protest how Junhui and Wonwoo's stories about the drama don't match up, but Mingyu nods with an ‘I know’ face, and shoves a black bean noodle-filled bowl in front of him, "Eat," is all he says.
Minghao does eat, but not without feeling some tension between his brows.
November
Whenever Minghao and Junhui do Chinese press interviews, the question of "what pickup lines do you know?" always comes up, without fail. It's usually accompanied by "say 10 compliments about each other," (usually in 30 seconds) but luckily, if all thirteen members are there, the compliment question usually gets omitted. No such luck for the pickup lines question, though.
Minghao nods at the PD, turns to Junhui, one forearm on his shoulder and holding the microphone with the other hand. "What's that spinning ride in the carnival called?"
He and Junhui learned this one a while back. Repeatedly. Because when Junhui asked their friend to teach him and Minghao five pickup lines, their friend insisted he only knew the one and just repeated it five times, which Junhui had amusingly treated as essentially the same thing.
However, Junhui's reacting like Minghao just grew an extra head. He shakes his head quickly once in confusion. His huge eyes blink at him in an odd silence.
Work with me here, Junhui, Minghao tries to say with his eyes.
"I don't..." Junhui says nervously into his mic, turning towards the PD and probably hoping they either edit this out or help him.
Minghao breaks into a laugh and playfully hits Junhui's chest. "Do you not remember this one?" He says in Korean for the benefit of the members.
Up close, Minghao can see the gears in Junhui's head turning for a second, but thankfully, they're far enough from the cameras that it looks like Junhui just started laughing out of embarrassment.
"Ah, ah! I remember! I remember, do it again! Please edit this out," Junhui says in a mix of Korean and Mandarin, trying to save himself from the members’ laughter and the PD’s editing.
"How is it supposed to go?" Seungkwan asks from somewhere behind Minghao.
Minghao turns to him, "So I ask what the name of the spinning carnival ride is called. In Chinese, the ride is pronounced 'mua', like a kiss noise. So he would answer that, and I would repeat it but more," Minghao wiggles himself side to side a bit, "flirty, I guess?"
"Ooh, try it on me," Seungkwan says cheerfully.
When he says it to Seungkwan, he throws in an air kiss for dramatics, which surprises the Jeju boy for a beat before he returns it with even more flourish. Most of the members break into clapping and laughter.
Minghao turns to look at Junhui, who is mostly laughing awkwardly out of good nature. Hopefully he's not too embarrassed that he got the response wrong, "See, that's how it's supposed to go," Minghao reprimands Junhui with teasing fondness, shaking him and laughing.
"I acknowledge, I apologize," Junhui says in Mandarin towards the camera, raising his hand. Minghao smiles at him and lets out some more giggles while Junhui sighs dramatically with a shake of his head, looking at his cue cards.
When shooting ends, the members stand up, bow at the production staff with plenty of “thanks” and “you worked hard!” They're returning their mics when Minghao pulls on Junhui's wrist. "Should we prepare more pickup lines for next time just in case?"
Junhui makes a small tsk sound, "Amateurs prepare, I just know them," he says confidently. Minghao knows Junhui probably has a whole archive of them stored somewhere in his brain.
"Sorry, I thought you knew that one. Victor told it to us 11 times," Minghao says with a laugh and light pat to the back of Junhui’s neck.
Minghao suddenly feels something in the atmosphere change and it makes him think he’s in dangerous territory, “I’ll just let you tell one next time, you’re better at them.” It shouldn’t feel like Minghao threw that out there to save himself, but yet it somehow does in a weird pit of his stomach.
Junhui is quiet, eyes looking past him with an unreadable expression. “Yeah, we’ll just do that,” he says finally, voice slightly shaky. His eyes flicker to the side to see Jisoo walking by and Junhui’s expression changes back into an over-excited puppy. He bounds off after the older, slinging an arm around his shoulders.
Minghao feels like he’s been having far too many encounters where the other person leaves the conversation without giving him adequate answers and it’s starting to annoy him.
“That was weird,” Mingyu’s voice comes up behind him.
“Yes, thank you. I thought I was the only one,” Minghao exhales in exasperation.
“No, you’re weird too.” Mingyu doesn’t even try to stop the hit Minghao lands on his shoulder. “But I see what you mean; he’s not usually like that with you. Or with anyone, actually.”
Minghao stares after Junhui, watching him talk animatedly with Jisoo and Chan, very different from how he was when Minghao was talking to him just a few minutes ago. Something is off and Minghao doesn’t know what. He’s hoping Junhui will eventually come tell him but he’s not sure how much longer he can wait.
Junhui does end up being the one to say pickup lines during their next Chinese press tour stop about three days later. Except he does it to an unsuspecting Chan instead. It’s a curious choice seeing that, as the Mandarin-speaking representatives, Junhui and Minghao are usually seated front and center, and this time, Chan was seated on the far left. This meant that Junhui ended up leaning over Minghao and speaking past a confused Hansol, just to ask Chan a pickup line that the youngest just managed to translate in his brain but isn’t sure what the response is supposed to be.
It’s a bit awkward and doesn’t quite get the response the PDs wanted, especially since the other members don’t know how to react, but they move onto the next question nonetheless.
When Minghao looks around in confusion, he catches the eye of Wonwoo at an angle behind him who widens his eyes in an equally confused expression.
“I’ll definitely talk to him,” Minghao mutters to himself, running a frustrated hair through his bangs and trying to stop tension he feels growing between his brows.
Apparently, space be damned; he’s going to have to confront Junhui after all.
December
Minghao waits a few more days after they’re back in Korea before asking Junhui to go to a Chinese restaurant with him. Sure, they just got back from Chinese press tours a few weeks or so ago, but the two of them can’t stay away from the food for long. He tries hard to make it not seem like an ambush, and even lets Junhui get his Luosifen noodles that Minghao was always on the fence about but Junhui misses so very much.
Junhui sighs theatrically as he sits down across Minghao. Minghao fails to suppress a laugh as he slurps some congee . Junhui had just come back from his third time telling the server that he wants to make his dish spicier. The server in question had blanched and told Junhui that he has to speak to the chef directly and that he’s responsible for whatever happens.
“We’ve been here so often, you’d think they’d just know you by now,” Minghao smiles. “Put your picture up somewhere, ‘this man will ask for more spice and we approved his death wish’.”
Junhui lets out another sigh after sipping his complimentary tea. “I think that server’s new,” he shakes his head in exaggerated disappointment and takes out his phone, becoming lost in the screen.
“Did they make you sign anything?” Minghao continues joking.
“Yeah, they took my mugshot, I signed it, and now it’s hanging by the chef station as my unwavering consent to spice up my food to hell and back,” Junhui replies dryly, going along with a wistful smile. Minghao notices that even when Junhui looks away from his phone, he looks around everywhere except at Minghao himself.
“I mean, it would make things easier.”
Junhui hums in acknowledgement and takes another sip of tea. They fall into a comfortable silence while Minghao slurps some more congee porridge. He gestures at his side dishes to let Junhui know he can take some if he wants. He’s relieved when he sees Junhui’s chopsticks reach over, grab some slivers of pickled ginger, and shove them in his mouth.
Minghao feels a bit bad that he’s almost done his congee when the server finally slides Junhui’s Luosifen bowl back in front of him, broth looking a darker red than when it left. Junhui smiles and nods his head in thanks at the server, who makes curious eye contact with Minghao as he backs away with Minghao’s empty dishes.
“I think he’s scared of you,” Minghao says with a grin, leaning forward like he’s telling a secret. It’s a bit odd but Minghao is going to grab any chance to talk to Junhui, especially after the past few weeks.
Junhui is slurping through a mouthful of noodles but his face still scrunches up in laughter.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he is,” Minghao absent-mindedly takes out his phone, leaning his chin in his hand, elbow propped on the table. “The amount of spice you can handle is pretty terrifying,” he holds his phone between his thumb and middle finger, spinning it. He finds himself grinning at the thought.
Junhui swallows the noodles in his mouth and is about to protest but seems to decide against it as he sips some broth from the soup spoon, muttering how it’s still not spicy through a shaky exhale.
Minghao eyes him carefully. “So, Wonwoo says I should talk to you,” he says and stops spinning his phone.
Coughing erupts from Junhui and it’s a relief that the spoon is far enough away from him that he doesn’t make too big of a mess. Minghao waits for him to recover and Junhui wipes his mouth with his napkin. “He did?”
Minghao smiles fondly and reaches over with his free hand to dab a spare napkin at the broth droplets near Junhui’s cheek that he didn’t quite get, “Yeah, it seemed important. I didn’t want to pry if you didn’t want to tell me yourself but I’m getting more concerned,” he says, keeping his voice gentle.
Junhui’s eyes start darting around again. He looks like he’s having an internal battle about whether to say something or hold back.
“You know I won’t judge you, so if you ever want to tell me anything, I’ll listen to you,” Minghao offers reassuringly when he senses Junhui doesn’t have a response. “We don’t have to do this here. I just know I should talk to you because I also feel like something’s been off lately.”
“Was the Luosifen bribery?” Junhui chuckles out uneasily as a joke.
“Hmm, a little,” Minghao replies with a sly smile.
“I forgot how straightforward you can be sometimes,” Junhui mumbles, eyes back on his bowl as he stirs the spoon around a little to distract himself.
Straightforwardness was one of the ways they were opposites. Junhui keeps his thoughts in his head and lets them swim until he can’t handle them, while Minghao says whatever thoughts he has that he knows he needs to say, embarrassment be damned.
Minghao lets Junhui’s response float in the air and lets him finish his Luosifen bowl in silence. It’s not as awkward as he would’ve thought. The only words spoken are when Minghao counts down from three to take a selca with him smiling in front of a slurping Junhui.
Minghao goes to pay, ignoring the cautious eye the server is giving to Junhui standing behind him. They do a slight bow of the head and leave. The December air is chilly enough to bite a bit and Minghao pulls his coat collar closer around his neck as they walk home.
Junhui is walking beside him, hands shoved in his pockets and teeth chattering. Minghao links his arm around one of Junhui’s and smiles up at him, noting how the sound of chattering teeth stops so he pats Junhui’s arm in comfort. They don’t talk on the way back because it’s too cold and Minghao knows Junhui can’t handle it.
“Oh my god!” Seungkwan screeches as soon as they come back. “What is that ?”
Minghao shrugs his coat off and toes his shoes off. “It’s called fashion , you peasants still haven’t learned yet,” he slings with a tired laugh for show as he hangs his coat up. Junhui laughs as he hangs his coat up along with him.
“No, I mean,” Seungkwan says as he cautiously walks closer. He sniffs near them, yelps, and runs back across the room to open a window without another word.
Oh, right. Minghao remembers why Junhui rarely gets Luosifen : the smell. Even when they were in China, Junhui didn’t eat it since he had wanted to eat all meals with the members and knew that the smell of Luosifen might drive them off. Minghao can barely tolerate it, but Junhui loves eating it and Minghao wants Junhui to have what makes him happy, so he usually ignores it.
This time, he didn’t really notice it. Or he got used to it somehow. Maybe he just knows what to expect.
Jeonghan wanders in, likely alerted by Seungkwan’s screaming. He insists that he needs to know, at all times, what’s bothering the children. He pauses when he steps into the general area, sniffs, and looks towards Junhui and Minghao at the entryway.
Junhui raises his hand, bows and says, “I’ll go take a shower,” without argument.
“I’ll go tell Mingyu to wash our clothes,” Minghao offers, pulling their jackets back down with a sigh.
Jeonghan nods, as if he’s just finished a successful meeting.
-----
“You would all combust into flames without me,” Mingyu says as he starts up the washing machine. “Smelly, hungry flames.”
Minghao scoffs. “Well, the smell was caused by food, so it wouldn’t really be both.”
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Mingyu huffs good-naturedly. He makes his way to leave. “You should shower too, though.”
Minghao knows he’s right. At least he had the good sense to change into some other clothes first before he asked Mingyu to start the wash. When he’s finished his shower, he finds Junhui in his room, fresh from his own shower, sitting cross-legged on the bed and looking anxious. Minghao can sense they’re about to finish their conversation from the restaurant, so he closes the door behind him and walks to his cooler for his wine in his usual routine, like Junhui being there is normal.
“You’re right,” Junhui says suddenly.
“About what?” Minghao asks as he pours his usual amount in a glass he also has stashed in one of the cupboards. He offers the glass to Junhui who shakes his head, expression still distracted. Minghao takes a seat cross-legged on the floor to face Junhui, who is fidgety and nervous.
“Something’s been off but I—I didn’t,” he pauses and flaps his arms in his shirt until the sleeves cover his hands, “I didn’t know how to talk to you about it.” He’s looking straight ahead at the wall, lost in thought.
Minghao isn’t sure what to say. He tries to stop himself from throwing around random guesses since that won’t really help.
“I just—” Junhui wipes his hand down his face in frustration. His face looks like it did when he told Minghao he was supposedly “ watching a drama with Wonwoo ”.
Minghao silently puts his wine glass down on top of the cooler, goes over to sit in front of Junhui on the bed and holds his sleeve-covered hands. He swings their arms around a little; it’s a bit silly, but it’s all he can think of.
Part of Minghao’s unwritten rules, along with never confronting Junhui (until today, at least), was not to interrupt him when he’s trying to talk about something. He always waits for the other to speak until he looks up at Minghao for a response. That was the system they had. It was comfortable.
“I – I’m just – the pickup lines,” Junhui manages in a low voice, staring down at their hands. His eyes are getting red and Minghao gets up to bring over a tissue box. In a foolish moment, he tries to connect their hands again before realizing Junhui needs his to wipe his eyes and blow his nose.
He lets Junhui start an ugly pile of tissues on his floor in front of him before reconnecting their hands and rubbing his thumb over the backs of Junhui’s hands. Minghao is a little bit jealous of how Junhui is, of course, one of the pretty criers. His face doesn’t contort into a wailing mess, just slightly more teary.
Junhui looks up at him so Minghao speaks, “What about pickup lines? Is it because of that time I had to say it to Seungkwan instead?” Minghao asks in a small voice. When Junhui nods, Minghao continues, “Are you still embarrassed? Don’t worry about that, it was a mistake. The members and PDs probably don’t remember it anymore. Hell, Seungkwannie and Seokminnie have done more embarrassing things before. ”
“No, it’s not that,” Junhui pulls back one hand to dab the tissue around his eyes before dropping the tissue in his lap and reconnecting their hands. “I knew the answer to it.”
Minghao is mildly surprised. Normally, he’d make a joke about how it would be hard to forget after hearing it so many times, but he refrains, “You did?”
“I just didn’t—” Junhui sniffles and tilts his head upward in an attempt to stop incoming tears. “This was so much easier to say to Wonwoo,” he exhales with effort
There’s a thump in Minghao’s chest and a small voice in his head that goes ‘ oh, sweetie’ but he pushes them back. Minghao counts ‘head tilted upward’ as following his unwritten rule that he shouldn’t respond until Junhui looks at him again.
Junhui does look at him for a second before lowering his head again. “I just didn’t want to hear a pickup line from you if you didn’t mean it,” he finally says, but it’s in Mandarin. As soon as it’s out, he shrinks into himself; he pulls his hands away from Minghao and hugs his knees to his chest, trying to bring his forehead to his knees to hide his face. “I know it sounds stupid though,” he adds in a mumbling whisper that Minghao barely catches.
Minghao’s brain scrambles. “W-what do you mean, if I didn’t mean it?” Apparently, they’re continuing this conversation in Mandarin.
Junhui doesn’t lift his head. “I told Chan the pickup line that time because—” a deep breath “—I didn’t want you to answer just for it to be a joke. It would hurt too much if it was, and I didn’t want that to be real. I’ve had a crush on you for a while now. I like you, like, more than just best friends and stuff.” The end of the sentence melts into another delicate whisper.
The ‘oh, sweetie’ voice is back and thumps around in Minghao’s head. Somehow, any move feels like the wrong one. He looks at Junhui’s timid form and has too many thoughts running around. He breathes out an “ Oh ,” because that’s all he can do right now.
Truthfully, Minghao isn’t sure what he feels; he’s never really thought about it. He’s been so focused on work, performances, dance, stages, and anything related to his health that he hasn’t let himself think about anything else.
“Please let me think a bit,” Minghao asks. Junhui releases his knees cautiously and nods, finally using the tissue from his lap to wipe at his face before discarding it into the pile on Minghao’s floor. “Do you mind if I ask since when?”
Junhui seems to have calmed down. “I’m not sure since when, but,” he pauses to dab at his eyes with a new tissue. “I know I joke around with the pickup lines and stuff, but at some point I realized I meant them when I said them to you, and I wanted them to mean something to you too, even though I know that sounds stupid.”
Junhui’s voice sounds really small and fragile and it hurts Minghao’s heart seeing him like that. He must have been holding onto these feelings for a long time. Minghao is a little frustrated at himself for not noticing sooner, but also for not knowing how he himself feels.
“I didn’t want you to brush them off anymore, I wanted you to somehow know I meant them,” he continues softly, fidgeting with his hands. “I decided to just say pickup lines to anyone except you since it wouldn’t hurt that way. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice but you pulled me aside that day. I was so scared you figured it out and were going to tell me off.”
Maybe Mingyu was right and he did go too far. Minghao just thought Junhui was having stage anxiousness again. He didn’t mean to make Junhui feel bad about it, he thought Junhui knew that.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad that day,” Minghao offers quietly.
Junhui just nods. “Wonwoo saw me after and asked about it. He said maybe you were upset I wasn’t professional on stage but I knew that wasn’t it.”
Minghao doesn’t say anything, but offers Junhui a soft smile.
“I think that’s when he went to you,” Junhui guesses, voice still small and solemn. “Because he told me you weren’t mad and I said I knew. I told him that I liked you and he said ‘ah, that makes sense then’.” The mock deep voice used for imitating Wonwoo would’ve been funny in any other situation.
“Is that why your eyes were red that day? When you lied about watching a drama with him?” Minghao asks cautiously. Junhui looks surprised. “When I asked Wonwoo, he seemed confused at the idea of a drama being involved. And then said you watched episodes without him when you said you watched them together.”
“I didn’t think you’d fact-check me,” Junhui says with a sigh.
Minghao chuckles at that and gets up, going over to his almost-forgotten wine on his cooler. “I fact-check everyone ,” Minghao says before taking a sip. It makes Junhui laugh a little so Minghao feels a bit better.
He swirls the rest of the wine in the glass and stares at it. He knows that when he finishes it and goes back on the bed, he’s going to have to make a decision. Part of Minghao feels worried and guilty; guilty that he doesn’t know his own feelings, and worried because what if he isn’t able to return Junhui’s feelings properly? What if Junhui ends up liking Minghao more than Minghao likes him and it destroys him?
It probably already is.
But it’s also Junhui; Junhui’s his best friend. He’s probably closer to Junhui than he is with anyone else, and if he’s being honest, he might have a bit of a soft spot for Junhui, considering the special attention he gives him sometimes. He loves all the members but he knows his first instinct is always to look for Junhui. When he thinks about it, he lets Junhui get away with things that he wouldn’t regularly let people get away with. Minghao thought that was just because Junhui was his best friend but now he’s thinking maybe there’s something there worth exploring. Besides, if Minghao isn’t willing to open up and try with Junhui, who else is it going to be? He downs the remainder of the wine.
When he sits back in front of Junhui, he grabs his hands again, swinging them lightly, “Let’s go on a date,” Minghao says, smiling.
People are always telling Junhui he looks like a cat, but in that moment, he really did resemble a deer in headlights. Cat in headlights? Minghao tries not to get sidetracked in his thoughts as he stares at Junhui, hoping he can see how sincere he is.
“Now?” is all Junhui says, and Minghao can feel how close Junhui’s heart is fluttering on his sleeve.
Minghao shakes his head with a laugh. “No, not now. It’s late and Soonyoung will kill us if we don’t get up in time for practice,” he says and Junhui agrees with a nod. “Besides, we just came back from a restaurant. But we will definitely go on a date later, if you want,” he adds the last part after a pause.
Junhui breaks into a grin and starts nodding quickly, slowly returning to his usual demeanor, especially after Minghao starts rubbing the back of Junhui’s hands with his thumb again.
Minghao wants to try . He wants to try letting himself feel and think about things that aren’t about work and stages and performing. Mingyu was probably right when he says Minghao keeps things too far away from his heart. Not that Minghao will ever tell Mingyu that.
Especially not when he barges in with a laundry basket of their clothes from earlier, gasping in over-dramatic horror when he sees Junhui’s pile of tissues on the floor and starts nagging about how they would all die without him. He’s right about that too, but Minghao can never give him the satisfaction.
“Must be some drama,” Mingyu says as he gathers the tissues in the garbage bag. He sends Minghao a knowing look. “Wonwoo was pretty upset that you watched without him, especially since it’s a Chinese drama and he has no idea what’s going on without you.”
Minghao contemplates going along with Mingyu’s ruse, especially considering that it’s fairly obvious there’s no way they would be watching a drama here. He knows Mingyu’s feigning ignorance for Junhui’s sake.
Minghao’s thankful, but he also can’t let Mingyu leave unscathed, “You should watch it with him. Your Mandarin’s been getting better,” he says with a grin, standing up and stepping a bit closer to Mingyu at the doorway.
“There are Korean subtitles! That’s how Kim Heechul watches them!” Junhui pipes up from his spot. Minghao can’t tell if he’s in on it or not.
“Isn’t that your Super Junior dad?” Mingyu asks, thrown off by the sudden name being thrown in. They’ve strayed from the original point and Minghao couldn’t be more grateful. “How do you even know that?”
“Weibo,” Junhui answers, taking his phone out of his pants pocket. He taps the screen a bit and Minghao thinks he’s about to show them Heechul’s Weibo account as proof, but Junhui puts the phone away soon after. “I texted Wonwoo a good one he can watch with you!”
Mingyu’s eyes widen in a questionable expression. He leaves the room in a hurry and Minghao giggles, turning back to Junhui. “Does Wonwoo really watch Chinese dramas?”
Junhui shrugs, “He asked to see some of the series I was in once and then he got into a bit of a rabbit hole,” he finally stands up from Minghao’s bed. “He trusts my recommendations after that.”
Minghao was so sure that had been an excuse that day with Mingyu and the black bean noodles. “So that day...?” he trails off. He’s not sure where he’s going with this.
“Nah, I’m kidding. He tried to watch some and got worried about being quizzed on Korean series in the future so he said he can’t right now. But he does have a list of my recommendations somewhere.”
Of course. Minghao nods. He looks at Junhui. You’re okay now, right? He tries to communicate. Just in case, he grabs Junhui’s hands again. “We are going on that date soon, okay?” I’m just making sure you know and you’re okay.
Junhui just nods with a goofy grin on his face, laughing slightly. “Okay,” he says, staring at Minghao’s eyes. After a pause, he continues, “I know you keep relying on that eye communication thing, but sometimes it’s nice to hear you say things, too.”
“You always know what I mean though!” Minghao protests half-jokingly.
“I know, that’s why I said it’s nice to hear you say things, not that you have to .” It’s Junhui’s turn to swing their arms. I always know what you’re trying to say , Minghao reads from Junhui’s eyes.
Minghao’s mind flashes to something he remembers Mingyu telling him the day he was preparing the black bean noodles. “I don’t want you to think you’re not special to me, because you are. That’s why we’re going on that date and no other reason, okay?” he smiles. It felt like one of the things Junhui needed to hear.
Junhui’ scrunches his face and retracts his hand to playfully punch Minghao in the chest, over his heart.. “No, you’re gonna make me cry again and then Mingyu’s gonna come in here and lecture us on the tissues.”He tilts his head upwards again in another attempt to stop his tears.
Minghao sighs, a smile creeping on his lips. He brings the hand Junhui let go of and wipes Junhui’s tears with his sleeve. He wants to make a bad joke at Mingyu’s expense about how he’s probably watching that series with Wonwoo by now. But if Mingyu isn’t around to hear it, does it really count?
Instead, his eyes search all over Junhui’s face, thinking to himself how pretty he is and how silly Minghao must have been to not see Junhui’s feelings earlier. Without thinking, he tilts Junhui’s head down and plants a kiss on his nose. He pauses. I don’t know why I did that is swimming all over his eyes.
If Junhui is freaking out, he’s doing a very good job of not showing it. He breaks into another grin and it seems to give him enough courage to place an equally quick kiss on his forehead between Minghao’s eyes. When Minghao stares up at him questioningly, Junhui says, “It’s probably been feeling a lot of tension lately, right?” He points to his own and makes a furrowed face.
Minghao starts laughing. “Yeah, it has.” He doesn’t know how to kick Junhui out but he also doesn’t really want him to leave. “Goodnight, Junhui,” he tries.
“Goodnight, Minghao,” Junhui responds, but neither of their feet move, still swinging their arms around. Their hands must have reconnected without Minghao noticing. Junhui’s the one who starts searching Minghao’s face now. He stares hard at his eyes, “Can I sleep here tonight?” he says after a while.
Maybe he was able to read Minghao better than he thought. “Sure.”
Minghao is the first to let go, remembering how he needs to wash his wine glass before Mingyu finds out. Junhui runs off to brush his teeth and grab a pillow from his room. Junhui gets back first because, of course, he had less to do than Minghao did, and he’s once again sitting cross-legged on Minghao’s bed when he comes back.
They settle into the bed, Minghao wrapping his arms around Junhui’s waist at his request to be cuddled, with Junhui himself clutching the pillow he brought from his room.
Minghao waits for Junhui’s breathing to even out before he feels safe thinking to himself about what just happened. His best friend just confessed that he is romantically interested in him, and Minghao agreed to go on a date with him. Partially out of curiosity “to see what happens” (since he doesn’t know his own feelings yet), and partially because it’s Junhui and he’s never been good at saying no to Junhui.
Minghao’s never been good with feelings like this, but for Junhui, he’ll try. He can figure out his feelings along the way, and it’ll be fine, right?