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I like it, Hyunjin realizes.
And swallows, harshly, because he’s not sure what that means.
Looking into the full-body length mirror in front of him, twisting his neck in his attempts at catching a view from behind, switching between wringing his hands together and fiddling with the hems of the…
Of the skirt.
That Hyunjin likes.
He likes the way the soft fabric flutters against the skin of his thighs (compared to how the roughness of denim really annoys him at times), and he likes how it’s naturally tight around his waist (the way he usually needs to force his belts into to make his pants stay where he wants them).
And it looks good, doesn’t it? a small voice in his head asks him cautiously.
Hyunjin spins again, watches the way the hems of the plaid skirt swings around him, how the black and white checkered patterns blend together with the movement. It’s so pretty, Hyunjin mourns, heart beating out of his chest.
But he does mourn, because he knows he can never wear something like this. Not for real. Not seriously. It’s so taboo, so frowned upon, so… wrong, for someone of Hyunjin’s gender and profession and public status.
He can’t wear a skirt.
But God, he wants to. He wants to. So bad. And maybe he can wear one here, around the dorms? Surely there couldn’t be any danger in that, right? Just around the members (family) at the place he actually lives (home). Home and around family, that’s the safest space imaginable, right?
Hyunjin goes for his phone where it’s lying on his bed, and types before he can change his mind.
Not even five minutes later - although Hyunjin has had a lot of time to panic and talk himself out of changing back to his track pants - Felix walks through the door, an obvious question in his eyes at Hyunjin’s cryptic message of ‘please come over, just you, right now’.
And then Felix stops, because his eyes are scanning Hyunjin for answers, and he finds all of them as soon as his round eyes land on the skin of Hyunjin’s thighs and the fabric above.
Hyunjin closes his eyes and waits one horrible second. And then another. And then another. Until--
“Waah, Hyunjinnie, you look stunning! When did you get that skirt? Why haven’t I seen it before? Did you get more? You look amazing!”
Hyunjin opens his eyes, slowly, and almost cries in relief at the huge smile on Felix’s face. “Really?”
Felix throws him an incredulous look in return before closing the door behind him and walking over to where the taller is standing, to get a closer look.
“Yeah, obviously!” he replies, and then takes a step back to get a proper look at the outfit as a whole. “Will you give me a twirl? It must look amazing when you turn, right?”
Hyunjin feels like the words are stuck in his throat, so he simply nods in reply (because it does look amazing) and lets the tiny smile form on his lips.
Then he twirls - as Felix asked - and when the reaction he gets is Felix clapping his hands giddily and giggling… Well, then he does it again.
And it goes like that for a good while; a sense of relief in Hyunjin’s chest that only grows at the encouraging words from his invaluable friend, and it doesn’t take long for Felix’s laughter to spread to Hyunjin’s own lips, and there’s a warm, lovely feeling in Hyunjin’s chest when Felix asks to touch the fabric and his mouth opens in awe at how smooth it feels.
But then the door opens again, and Hyunjin’s nerves rocket right up to his throat, and there’s a brief moment where he entertains the terrifying possibility that he will throw up, especially if the person behind the door is…
But it’s not.
Entering the bedroom is instead Hyunjin’s other roommate (the one he was already typing to before getting a reply from Felix), and he exhales shakily instead of emptying his stomach completely.
“Hi!” Felix exclaims as Seungmin takes his airpods out, and Hyunjin feels frozen on his feet and has to remind himself to breathe when he sees the exact moment that Seungmin spots the difference between today and every other day.
“Hi,” Seungmin replies, not even looking at Felix as he meets Hyunjin’s eyes with his unreadable ones, and then he looks back down. At Hyunjin’s legs. “Is that new?”
Hyunjin’s mouth falls open in shock.
Seungmin has never seen him wear a skirt before. Hell, Hyunjin has never seen himself wear a skirt before. Because he hasn’t. Yet, here Seungmin is, acting like Hyunjin has worn them forever and this isn’t out of the ordinary what-so-ever.
Something aches in his chest. (In a good way.)
“What do you mean ‘new’?” Felix asks, confusion written all over his small face, and then turns on Hyunjin. “You mean to tell me you’ve been wearing skirts before, without showing me? I thought we were best friends!”
“We are,” Hyunjin tries to reassure the shorter out of them, but his eyes keep going back to the roommate whose cheeks are suddenly a reddish colour. “I’ve never tried one on before, that’s why I… Why I texted you.”
Felix's mouth forms a small ‘o’, and then he turns to look at Seungmin as well.
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it!” their red-cheeked member tries to explain as he waves one hand around. “Of course I would remember if I’d seen Hyunjinnie…”
He cuts himself off, and suddenly the blood is rushing to Hyunjin’s face as well.
“You look incredible,” Seungmin finally tells him, obviously a little embarrassed but the sincerity in the eyes that meet Hyunjin’s once more is not one that can be mistaken. “You look… It’s beautiful, Hyunjin-ah. I just didn’t know what to say. What you wanted to hear.”
Hyunjin feels an abrupt need to go and hug his roommate as his heart swells in his chest. But he restrains himself, because he senses that might embarrass Seungmin even further.
“You do, you know,” Felix chirps, glee in his voice as he glues his eyes to Hyunjin’s legs for further inspection of the skirt. “Minho hyung is gonna lose his shit. Or wait, does he know? Has he seen you already?”
Hyunjin shakes his head, mutely. He fiddles with the hem again, and doesn’t know how to explain everything he feels surrounding the piece of fabric sitting on his hips.
“You know what,” Seungmin starts when the tallest doesn’t give them any further explanations, and there’s a determination in his voice that surprises Hyunjin enough to look back up at him. “We should go out there right now. Everyone’s in the living room arguing over dinner, we should just walk past them into the kitchen and get it over with. And Hyunjin-ah, I promise you, if anyone even looks at you the wrong way Felix will make use of that quadruple black belt or whatever it is he has.”
Felix nods fiercely.
“But if you want to keep it to yourself for a bit,” Seungmin continues with a softer voice, “then you should. It’s nobody’s business but yours what you want to wear or how you want to express yourself, Hyunjinnie. You can change first and we’ll support that, too.”
Hyunjin bites at his lip and tries to force the oncoming tears back into their channels.
It is his business, and Hyunjin isn’t ready for the world to see and think and judge him on this. At least not yet. But the members are different, and he has thought about it, and he does trust that Felix would kick anyone’s ass if they were mean about it, member or not.
(Seungmin would probably bite their head off so harshly they would cry, and then poison their dinner, if Hyunjin had to bet on it.)
But the predominant reason, the most important factor to Hyunjin’s final decision, is this:
He likes it. And he doesn’t want to take it off.
“Okay,” Hyunjin says quietly, because even though he’s certain about it he’s most definitely nervous at the same time. “I won’t change. I like it.”
“That’s our Hyunjinnie,” Felix smiles and tugs at Hyunjin’s arm to bring him into a hug. Then he waves impatiently at Seungmin to join them, which he does with a huff.
(And standing there, tucked between his members and best friends, wearing whatever Hyunjin wants with the support of the most important people to him… Hyunjin likes it.)
***
Now, on the topic of boys in skirts.
Well.
Lee Minho can’t say it’s a topic he’s spent much time on, honestly. Not even skirts in general. Growing up as an only child, becoming an idol, living with multiple boys - and being gay, on top of everything - hasn’t really set the scene for the skirt discourse to be one Minho frequents.
But as he chokes on the water he is preoccupied with drinking and spits it out all over the floor, and no one even notices… The topic of boys in skirts is definitely one society spends way too little time on, in Minho’s opinion.
Because maybe if he had, say, seen commercials with boys wearing skirts, or heard his members talking about it, or come across other male idols wearing them (properly), then maybe Minho would have been at least an ounce more prepared. Maybe the thought would have crossed his mind at least once. Maybe the vision of his boyfriend wearing one - a skirt - wouldn’t have sent Minho into fucking cardiac arrest right here on the couch.
But then again, Minho thinks with his jaw on the floor and his fingers slowly crushing the water bottle in his hand, nothing could have prepared him for this.
Not for Hyunjin, with his parted blonde hair half-shielding his troubled face, and with that big, black hoodie that he likes to hide in stuffed into the waistband of his… Of the skirt he’s wearing.
It’s not the shortest thing Minho has seen - thank God - but covers around half of his thighs, at least. Hyunjin could probably bend over and still--
Minho coughs. Loudly, because the air in his throat is choking him and he’s honestly not even that surprised that the sight in front of him might be the cause of his imminent death.
What a way to go, Minho supposes, and tries to dry the tears out of his eyes so his vision will at least be clear in his final moments.
But then Hyunjin is gone, disappeared behind the corner to their kitchen, and the silence that remains is so loud that Minho wonders if they’ve all gone mute. He wants to check on the others, see how Jeongin is reacting and if Changbin is still breathing and if Chan has passed out yet and--
“Oh, my god!” Jisung yells, and then he’s scrambling off the floor and pushing Changbin down as he uses the elder to steady himself when he stands, and before Minho can blink, Jisung has bolted in the same direction as Hyunjin went. In his skirt.
“What the fuck?!” they all hear Jisung’s loud screech, and no one else is moving. Not even Changbin, still on the floor, who is staring straight up towards the ceiling. “How could you not show me first?! You look fantastic, what the fuck? Spin around and show me, oh, my god! Oh, my fucking god, Hwang Hyunjin, I could propose to you right now. Forget about Minho hyung, please marry me right the fuck now. I asked first! I asked first, right? Oh, my god.”
Minho hears his name, and he hears the context of which Jisung speaks it, and if all the blood wasn’t boiling all over in his body it would definitely be heating up his face (and stupid ears) by now. As it is, he’s completely frozen to the spot, unable to move, and it’s a good thing his bottle was nearly empty because the plastic is almost torn around the middle part where Minho is digging his fingers in.
“Wow,” he hears Jeongin whisper in awe on the other end of the couch. “Wow. I’m-- Have my eyes just been blessed?”
“Yes,” Changbin replies, completely red-faced where he’s still staring at the ceiling. “This is our peak. We’ve peaked.”
Chan makes a noise that was probably supposed to be a snort, if Minho had to guess, but sounds more like some kind of choking sound. He’s still staring in the direction of the kitchen, where Hyunjin had disappeared.
And… Minho has to struggle to remember who was with him, because there sure was someone blocking Minho’s view of Hyunjin’s left calf, but he can’t for the life of him remember who. He feels absolutely paralyzed, his limbs too heavy to move and mouth unable to form proper words, as his mind replays the image of Hyunjin in his impeccable outfit and beautiful hair and hints of the sweater paws that only come out when he’s--
When he’s nervous, Minho realizes with a jolt. He rewinds the film inside his head again, and hadn’t there been signs on Hyunjin’s face as well? Did he bite his lip? Did he look anyone in the eye? Had he pursed his eyebrows together?
Minho feels how his heart pounds in his chest once more, for the first time in very long minutes, as he tries to separate all the emotions currently flooding through him. Shock, obviously, to be expected, right? Worry, now, at the way Hyunjin quickly disappeared from sight and didn’t stop to talk to Minho (or anyone else). But there’s something positive there, too, something lighter that Minho has to concentrate to wrap his head around. After a moment, he figures out what it is.
Pride.
And at that realization, he finally reconnects with the whole of his body and stands up, and briskly walks towards their kitchen to… Well, he’s not sure exactly ‘to’ what, yet. But he can’t sit in their living room any longer when he has a stunning boyfriend in the next room.
So Minho lets his feet take him to where Jisung is still going off in something of the likes of ‘you look incredible, Hyunjinnie, holy shit’ and ‘if our stylists saw the way you look right now, you’d never wear anything else again’.
Minho swallows and silently agrees.
When he enters the kitchen, Hyunjin is leaning against the counter with Felix’s tiny hand supportingly holding his, and Seungmin on the other side with a tiny smile as he watches Jisung ramble on. Hyunjin’s legs are crossed at the ankles, and the slender muscles that could very well stretch for miles as far as Minho is concerned run along his smooth legs until they are hidden behind the fabric swaying slightly around Hyunjin. It’s enchanting.
When the 00’s spot their hyung closing in, Minho sees the way Hyunjin squeezes Felix’s hand and Seungmin straightens his back as he watches Minho with an indecipherable look. Minho stops about a meter away from them, next to Jisung, and looks Hyunjin over once more.
(Holy s h i t , is what Minho’s mind is screaming inwardly.)
“Hi,” is what he actually says, and lets his eyes return to his boyfriend’s as he tries to make himself as gentle and harmless as possible. Clearly, the situation is a sensitive one for Hyunjin, and judging by the way he had walked in plain sight of all the members and seemingly shown Felix and Seungmin first… Minho has already reached the conclusion that this is not a sex thing, that it has nothing to do with Minho, and that the subject is delicate.
“Hi,” Hyunjin murmurs in return, and looks somewhere just right of Minho’s eyes instead of meeting them. Then he looks down, at the fingers he uses to fiddle with skirt’s edge, and God, Minho thinks as there’s a sudden tug at his chest, he’s so precious.
“Hyung would really like a hug,” Minho says, and tries to bear the evident fondness in his voice even though it’s usually reserved for when he’s alone with Hyunjin. Not when Jisung and - God forbid - Seungmin is listening. But it can’t be helped this time, he figures. “Is that okay?”
Hyunjin's eyes do flicker up to meet Minho’s, at that, and there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he nods. Victory, Minho thinks with a warmth to his chest. So he smiles back, tilts his head in response to the lovely creature in front of him, and opens his arms only to close them once his boyfriend is secured against him.
At first he says nothing, a little self-conscious about the other members over-hearing, but when Minho opens his eyes (and blinks Hyunjin’s hair out of them) they’re all moving around and busying themselves with other things. He smiles and nuzzles his face against Hyunjin’s head, and tightens his arms around the taller boy.
“You’re so precious,” Minho tells him in murmurs that come way more natural to him at this point that he thought they could, even just a couple months ago. “And stunning, like always. I’m not letting Jisung have you, just so you know. You're mine. Mine, mine, mine.”
Hyunjin shakes with laughter against him, and then removes himself slightly to meet Minho’s eyes instead. Minho thinks he can see the difference in weight on top of Hyunjin’s shoulders.
“As if I would accept Jisung’s hand in marriage,” Hyunjin replies, just loud enough for Jisung to stick his head out from where it’s buried in the fridge to exclaim indignantly.
“Yah! You don’t know what you’re missing, Hwang Hyunjin,” Jisung tells them and flexes his biceps. “These babies would carry you over the threshold every night, don’t you worry.”
Hyunjin snorts. “Hannie. Have you seen hyung’s thighs?”
Jisung looks over at said thighs and closes his mouth. Minho might flex a little himself, but no one needs to know that. Jisung sighs, throws a despairing look at the two of them, and then leaves while loudly ranting about that one time he walked in on them and how he will never feel that kind of joy again. Minho snickers.
“Well”, Seungmin teases from the sink, “everyone’s certainly seen yours, Jinnie.”
Felix quickly smacks him over the arm, Seungmin yelps in pain, and Minho giggles as he presses his blushing boyfriend forward until he’s back against the counter.
“There,” he proclaims, “they're hidden now. I’ll even hide them with my hands if you’d like, Hyunjin-ah.”
Seungmin fake-gags to their right, and then leaves the kitchen as he mumbles about their room being empty for once. Felix exchanges some sort of silent communication with Hyunjin using their eyes only, but then Hyunjin smiles one last time and Felix touches Minho’s shoulder before leaving as well, saying something about organizing dinner.
Once they’re actually alone, Minho doesn’t waste any time before reaching up to hold Hyunjin’s face in both his hands, and then close in slowly enough to make his intentions clear. But there’s no need to worry, he quickly finds, as Hyunjin stretches his neck to meet Minho’s mouth with his own for a couple of soft, close-mouthed kisses.
“Hi,” Minho says again as they part, and he brushes a blonde strand of hair away from Hyunjin’s eyelashes.
“Hi,” Hyunjin whispers back with a small smile. “Did you… Did you like it?”
Minho stares back at the boy in front of him in confusion. “Did I like it? What am I, blind?”
And then he’s met with a giggle, and can’t help the way his heartbeat speeds up as Hyunjin’s eyes crinkle and his teeth peek out behind plush lips.
“The real question here is if you like it, Hyunjin-ah,” Minho tells him. “You’re not wearing a-- You’re not wearing it for me. You’re not wearing it for me, right?”
Hyunjin shakes his head, and there’s a pink tint to his cheeks that makes Minho want to pinch them or - even worse - kiss them to feel if they’re as warm as they look. “No, hyung.”
Minho hums, because that’s exactly what he had figured. If the skirt-wearing had been directed at his boyfriend, Hyunjin would have brought it up when they were alone, and Minho thinks it would have been in a more sexual setting. Probably. But in the middle of the afternoon, revealing the piece of cloth to others first, and then Minho along with everyone else… It wasn’t for him. It was for Hyunjin himself.
“Will you tell me?” Minho asks gently, because he’s actually very curious. “When did you get it? How does it feel? And do you like it?”
“I like it,” Hyunjin whispers, and it’s so quiet that Minho has to strain to catch the words leaving his boyfriend’s lips. He leans forward to find Hyunjin’s gaze again, and softens at the nerves he sees in them. “It’s… I’ve never worn one before. I ordered it and just had to try it on, and it… I like it.”
Minho waits patiently, sensing that there’s more the younger has not yet said, and lets his thumb run along the shape of Hyunjin’s jaw in the meantime.
“It’s…,” Hyunjin starts, and it’s a little louder this time. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of it or anything, it’s just… It feels nice. The fabric is really soft and it sits on my waist just the way I like it, without any belts, and it’s black and white so it goes with a lot of things, which is good, and it’s not that short, I tried to sit in it and crouch and it seems fine, and it’s so pretty, hyung, it’s so, so pretty, isn't it? I really like it, I do, and--”
“I love you,” Minho suddenly blurts, interrupting, and then hurries to apologize when Hyunjin stops and stares at him in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off, go on. It is pretty. I just… I just really love you, Hyunjin. Fuck, I love you so much.”
“I…,” Hyunjin breathes, and looks at him again. There’s something in his eyes that Minho can’t quite pinpoint, but then it’s gone because Hyunjin is kissing him and Minho’s own eyes are falling shut, and he feels the pressure at the seam of his lips to open up for Hyunjin, which he does, of course he does.
And it’s not soft or close-mouthed this time. Hyunjin is kissing and licking and nibbling at Minho’s mouth as if he wants to devour him whole, and he’s making these pretty little noises in his throat that always give Hyunjin’s neediness away.
Minho would grin if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. His hands aren’t, though, and without thinking too hard about it, Minho reaches down and takes Hyunjin’s bare thigh into his hand, wraps his fingers around the strong muscle there and hoists Hyunjin’s leg up off the ground to lean against Minho’s side, instead.
“Is this alright?” he half-murmurs, half-pants against Hyunjin’s wet mouth, slick with both of their saliva at this point and much too inviting to hold off on for another second. Minho feels the hand that slides into his own hair, but also the one crawling up the back of his shirt. He kisses Hyunjin once more before letting him reply. “Tell me it’s alright.”
“Please,” Hyunjin breathes against him, leg curling around Minho’s hip to pull him closer. “Touch me more.”
Minho groans, dives back in to lick into Hyunjin’s mouth in that way his boyfriend so quickly weakens for, and digs his fingers into the skin of Hyunjin’s thigh. Soon enough, Minho comes back to the realization that Hyunjin is wearing a skirt, which means…
He slides his hand one tiny centimeter upwards, curling around to hold underneath instead of beside, and then Minho’s fingers are teasing at the inside of Hyunjin’s thigh, higher than ever before in a situation where Hyunjin was actually, properly dressed.
Hyunjin whimpers into his mouth.
Minho lets his fingernails scratch at the soft skin.
And then, right in the middle of their blissful kitchen make-out session, the interruption comes in the form of - guess who - Kim Seungmin.
“I fucking knew it,” Seungmin states, but without malice. “Felix told me, ‘no, Seungminnie, Hyunjin wouldn’t do that, not today’, but I knew. Hyunjin can’t keep it in his pants - not that he’s even wearing any if we’re being honest - but neither can you.”
And Minho doesn’t see, isn’t looking at his roommate, but he senses the accusing finger aimed at him anyway. So Minho removes his tongue from the inside of Hyunjin’s mouth, but doesn’t back up much further than that. Hyunjin’s head falls to the cupboard behind him as he tries to catch his breath.
“Well,” Minho replies, his own lungs heaving for air, “can you blame me, Kim Seungmin?”
Seungmin snorts, but when Minho rips his gaze from the beauty in front of him, there’s a bashful smile on Seungmin’s lips and a light stain to his ears. “Shut up. I hate you.”
Hyunjin giggles, and when he puts his leg down and removes Minho’s stubborn hand, he takes it into his own and intertwines their fingers instead.
***
When they’re finally gathered around the dinner table with a good number of take-out boxes in front of them, Minho makes use of his ambidextrousness by eating with his left hand and groping Hyunjin’s thigh with his right.
...when Felix suddenly - in the middle of everyone stuffing their mouths - muses out loud that he really liked the fabric of the skirt and the way it looked, maybe he should get one, too? In red? Do they think that would suit him?
And when Minho sees the happiness on Hyunjin’s face as they chat about it, he only looks away one brief second in search for more water when he manages to catch the way Chan has completely malfunctioned to his left (the chopsticks are halfway to his open mouth).
Needless to say, Minho bursts out laughing.
(Later, he actually sends his leader a sympathetic look. Laced with amusement, of course.)