Work Text:
1
Minho pats the baby doll's back while swaying side to side, like he's seen his mother do with his little cousins. He thinks he's doing a wonderful job, really, shushing the plastic kid to sleep while he takes out a small pie from the oven in the playhouse. He'd set the table beforehand, and now all he needs to do is wait for his husband Seungmin to come back from work.
He hooks his foot on the stroller to bring it closer to him without moving too far away from the kitchen (he doesn't want to ruin lunch!) and carefully sets the baby down. He tucks the thin blanket under the body and boops the baby's nose with a giggle. The doll stares back at him with the same unmoving eyes and a dent on its head from when Minho had accidentally smacked it against the table.
"I'm home!"
Seungmin walks in, still carrying the huge briefcase his father had lent him to play with Minho for the day. It's half his size and filled with rocks (courtesy of his very serious job in his own backyard), but he manages to drag it into the house with all his 6-year-old strength. Minho straightens back up with a grin.
"Hi!" Minho chirps, running up to Seungmin to wrap his arms around him. Cheeks smashed together, they stay locked in a tight hug for a couple seconds before Minho pulls away. "I missed you!"
"Um, me too," Seungmin says. "What's for lu— what are you doing!? "
Minho blinks, confused and with his lips still puckered for the kiss he was leaning in for. "Kissing you?"
"Why do you want to kiss me?" Seungmin asks, dumbfounded. He takes a step back and away from the embrace.
"Well, my mom always kisses my dad when he comes back from work," Minho reasons with the logic of the 7 year old that he is. "And you just came back from your work, so I thought I should do that."
"Only grown ups kiss each other!" Seungmin exclaims.
"But we are grown ups right now," Minho says, pointing at the forgotten stroller with their kid in it. "We have a baby! And a house! I also baked a pie."
Seungmin contemplates all of this evidence with a frown. The beat up doll they have for a daughter, their humble abode, the plastic pie. Minho's right— they're adults, now. He supposes kissing each other hello only makes sense.
"Okay," Seungmin says, taking a step closer to his friend.
Minho smiles. He puts his hands behind his back and leans slightly forward, mouth ready but letting Seungmin make the final push. The red blush of Seungmin's embarrassment spreads all over his face without any care, like the kids at his school who color outside the lines. Still, he bravely pouts and presses his lips against Minho's for a total of two seconds before they both pull apart.
They blink at each other with a similar expression on their little chubby faces, like they both want to ask the same question: What's with all the hype around kissing? With the way their parents rush to cover their eyes when people do it in movies, they'd thought it would be something more thrilling. Instead, it can be easily classified, undoubtedly, as the most boring thing ever. It doesn't take them longer than a minute to shrug the moment off and sit down at the Winnie the Pooh table for lunch.
By the time Minho's dad knocks on the playhouse door to tell his son it's time to go home, they're both huddled cozily in a corner with the doll resting between them. Minho's reading Cinderella out loud while Seungmin stubbornly fights against his drowsy eyelids begging to slip shut, and Minho's dad doesn't have the heart to cut the moment short. He ends up waiting for Minho to finish the fairytale before he even thinks about mentioning them leaving, and when he does, Minho begs for five more minutes exactly like he'd expected him to.
"Mommy's waiting for us at home. Don't you want to say hello to her?" He tries. Minho pouts. He loves his mom, but he also loves Seungmin— his dad is being unfair.
"Okay," Minho sighs. He lifts the doll up and lands a smooch on its forehead. "Bye, baby," With another quick movement, he smacks his lips loudly against Seungmin's cheek. "Bye, Seungminnie."
Seungmin rubs the spot with a sleepy fist. "Bye, hyung."
"I'll be back tomorrow!" Minho makes sure to announce as he and his dad walk out of the tiny space and begin to make their way to the car.
"Minho, you can't visit tomorrow," His dad says, "It's your aunt's birthday, remember?"
"Can Seungminnie come?" Minho asks, squeezing his dad's hand excitedly at the prospect.
"Seungmin's not your aunt's nephew, though, now is he?"
"I always get sooooo bored," Minho complains. "And I will miss Seungminnie if I don't see him. Pleaseee e, dad."
His dad chuckles, opening the door for Minho to hop in the backseat. "What if Seungmin doesn't want to come?"
"He would definitely say yes!" Minho argues. When the door shuts, he waits patiently for his dad to walk around the car and slide into the driver's seat to continue. "Because he would miss me, too. We always want to be together."
"Always?"
"Al-ways."
2
Twelve year olds have odd perceptions of what fun is, Seungmin philosophies as a fellow small, human person that has been alive for twelve years. Sitting in a circle among even more pre-teens, he watches in disgust as Felix, Minho's cousin and the birthday boy of the day, is dared to lick the remote control for the sake of a silly game that doesn't even have winners. He leaves the buttons shiny with saliva, and Seungmin makes the decision to never watch TV at Felix's ever again.
"Seungmin, your turn," Felix says. Before Seungmin can utter the word he's been repeating for every round, Felix adds. "And you can't say truth again."
"Why not?" He complains. He doesn't want to run his tongue over suspiciously dirty surfaces or yell inappropriate things out the window for the neighbors to hear (Jisung had received a scandalized gasp from a nearby passer when he'd screamed PENIS AND BALLS at the top of his lungs two rounds ago) and he's perfectly content with answering yes or no to harmless questions.
"Come on, Seungminnie," Minho elbows him lightly on the side with an amused smile on his face. "Just once won't hurt. Promise not to make you do nasty things."
"Hey—" Felix tries to object. Minho stretches his leg to kick his knee. "Ouch!"
"Promise," Minho repeats with finality.
Seungmin looks into Minho's eyes, finding them playfully wide and glimmering, and figures that eyes like those could never be bearers of lies. He sighs, giving in to everyone's expecting stares. "Okay. Dare, I guess."
"Yes!" Felix fist bumps the air in victory. "Let me think of a good one. Hm…"
While Felix contemplates the options for Seungmin's challenge— possibly very embarrassing, if it requires that much thought— Minho knocks their shoulders gently in silent encouragement. Seungmin rolls his eyes, pretending not to need it, but notices how the confidence that it gives him helps him sit more straight. It's a stupid game, they're twelve, and it can't get much worse than what Seungmin's already witnessed as a strictly-truth player.
"Got it," Felix snaps his fingers to signal the arrival of his idea. "I dare you to kiss the person sitting to your right."
"On the lips!" Someone chimes in. Felix nods in mischievous agreement.
Oh, no. He jinxed it. Because this— this is bad. Seungmin turns his head slowly and meets Minho' own startled expression, and for a moment all they can do is hold their breaths and watch as each other's cheeks start turning as red as ripe tomatoes. Felix must be joking. Kiss… his best friend? On the lips?!
" Noooo , to your right," Felix whines. Seungmin uses the interjection as an excuse to look away and attempt to dry his sweaty palms by dragging them over his shorts. Why does it feel like his stomach is filled with ants? Then, Felix points at what is decidedly not Seungmin's right, at a girl he doesn't know who has her hair up in two pigtails tied with butterfly scrunchies, and says. "Minho hyung is on your left."
"Yah!" Minho exclaims loudly. "Felix, stupid, that's your left."
"What?" Felix crosses his arms over his chest with a frown. "Stop making things up, there's only one left."
"Oh, my God," Minho groans frustratedly. "I'm the one on Seungmin's right, which is your left because you're sitting in front of him and it's not the same."
Felix scrunches his nose. "That makes no sense. You're such a liar. I'm gonna tell Auntie Minju."
"Stop fighting," Seungmin butts in. He feels his face get inexplicably hot the moment his words coax Minho to look at him again, and wonders if he should call his mom to tell her he has a fever. He did feel a little funny after he ate his fifth hotdog an hour ago, after all.
"So what do we do?" Jisung speaks up, eyes darting between the three involved. "If Seungmin's right is Felix's left and Minho hyung is sitting on the left and on the right—" Jisung's eyes widen suddenly, lips parted in a surprised gasp. "Wait, do I have a third left? How many lefts are there?"
"Just one," Seungmin says, which has at least half the circle scratching their heads as they try to understand the logistics of the conversation.
" Whatever . Just kiss Minho hyung, then," Felix throws his hands up in the air in annoyance.
Seungmin gulps as he feels the colony of ants inside him start marching to the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat, "Uh…"
"Y-you can say no," Minho stutters next to him, giving him the chance to back out. Seungmin ventures to meet his eyes: still openly honest and shiny, as they always seem to be. Minho turns to look at Felix. "You messed up, so he doesn't have to—"
All at once, Seungmin acquires a rush of the game spirit that appeared to be dormant within him until that very moment, and it has him thinking: I can't say no. It's a game, isn't it? He can't lose— who likes to lose?
Not kissing Minho sounds a lot like losing.
"I can do it," Seungmin says, surprising everyone sitting on the Spiderman rug that covers Felix's room floor. "If— if hyung is okay with it, of course."
Minho shrugs, but his act quickly crumbles when Seungmin sees the tips of his ears painted in bright pink. It's a little comforting to know he's nervous, too. "Sure."
Suddenly, the game has become a lot more interesting for everyone present. The rest of the kids break the circle to gather together in a messy group around Felix, and they all sport the same wide eyes filled with childish wonder. For twelve year olds, this is the most scandalous thing that can happen at a birthday party— kissing. Seungmin can feel the back of his neck burning up.
"You can still say no," Minho whispers, and, wow, he's a lot closer than Seungmin remembers. Minho crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue in a funny face, pulling a laugh out of him.
"It's fine," Seungmin assures him, his posture a lot more relaxed. "I just… I don't know what to do."
"Me neither," Minho chuckles softly. "Let's just go for it."
"At the count of 3?"
"Got it. One," Minho arranges his position so that he's facing him properly, legs tucked under his butt.
"Two," Seungmin fists the hem of his shorts.
"Three!"
Minho closes his eyes and surges forward at the same time Seungmin puckers his lips, meeting a little bit harshly in the middle. Seungmin's eyelids clip shut when the spectators gasp, as if the action would magically hide him from them, and tries to focus on the point of contact between his and Minho's mouths.
It's not unpleasant, the warm, steady press of their lips against each other, but it does feel tense. Seungmin sits unmoving and rigid while Minho leans down slightly to fix the couple inches difference in their height, and when Seungmin tentatively opens an eye mid-kiss, he sees Minho's eyelashes grazing the blush on his cheeks… along with Felix and every birthday attendee watching them curiously. His fingers clench the fabric of his pants tighter.
When Minho sets his hand on Seungmin's knee for balance, his stomach feels as funny as it did with the hotdogs, so he pulls away first. Minho lingers in place for a second longer, and then his eyes open abruptly. Clumsily, he settles back in a cross-legged position next to Seungmin— only perhaps a little more distanced than before. Finally, they give each other bashful little smiles and seal the unspoken deal to never talk about this again.
Already over it, the kids return to their places in the circle one by one, ready to continue being dumb and gross for another round.
"I still think Minho was to your left," Felix comments offhandedly. Then, he points at Jisung. "Your turn."
"Dare," Jisung announces proudly, chest puffing out.
"Lick the sole of your shoe."
" Ewwww! "
.
The funny feeling in his stomach persists even after Truth or Dare is over, spiking exponentially when Minho takes his hand and drags him to the kitchen in order to sing Happy Birthday to Felix. They don't let go of each other for the entirety of the song.
In the end, Seungmin has to call his mom to pick him up before the party ends. When she asks if anything is wrong, he simply says he ate too much.
3
The moment Lee Minho threw his arm around Seungmin's shoulders, he knew he was gonna be asked to be part of something he wasn't going to like. Minho had tried to disguise it as needing more players for a game , but they're teenagers now, and games stopped referring to action figures and imitations of explosions that are more spit than accuracy at least four years ago. In actuality, games involve things Seungmin is not keen on, like unnecessary embarrassment and people laughing at his expense.
At first, his no is rotund.
"I'm hanging out with Hyunjin," Seungmin tells him.
Hyunjin, sitting in front of him, widens his eyes at the mention of his name. Minho intimidates him a little bit— because he's so cool , as he'd explained to Seungmin once. Seungmin had snorted, and then stopped when he realized Hyunjin wasn't laughing along. Oh, you're serious, he'd said, surprised. Earlier that day, Seungmin had seen him shove a finger up his nose with more enthusiasm than needed and then not wash his hands. Minho? Cool?
"He can come, too," Minho says. He tightens his hold around Seungmin and shakes him around, as if that would scramble the ideas in Seungmin's brain in his favor and get him to say yes. "Come on, Seungminnie. Just for a couple rounds."
"Hyung."
"What about you, Hyunjin?" Minho aims for a different approach, and immediately Seungmin knows he's lost the only excuse he had in hand. "Do you want to play?"
Hyunjin nods, elated at the prospect of hanging out with Minho and his older friends. Traitor . "Sure!"
So here they are— and, as usual, Seungmin was right. There's a circle of teenagers seated on the grass outside the school building, in a pattern too purposeful for Seungmin not to realize what the game is as soon as he spots the bottle positioned horizontally in the middle: boy, girl, boy, girl. Minho turns to check he's still following the moment the revelation hits, and he's quick to wrap an arm around Seungmin's wrist to hold him back from running away.
"Just a couple rounds," Minho repeats. Seungmin makes the mistake of looking into his eyes when the sun is still high up in the sky and reflected in Minho's pupils, a glint so intense Seungmin has to squint. Minho reads it as hesitation. "You probably won't even have to touch the bottle— there's a lot of people."
"Then why am I here?" Seungmin asks, even if he continues to trail dutifully after Minho when he lets go of his arm.
Minho taps a girl's shoulder and motions for her to scoot over and make space. As soon as a small opening is visible, he urges Seungmin to sit down, pushing on his shoulders until his butt is on the ground. "We needed more boys."
Seungmin crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Minho's escaping figure all the way to his own spot a couple of nervous teenagers away. Minho catches his gaze and mouths the words three rounds while holding up the same number of fingers, finishing it off with a pout. Seungmin shifts his eyes downward, scowl directed at his tingling stomach instead.
Round one starts with a boisterous guy spinning the bottle before anyone else can try to get their hands on it. It lands on a girl Seungmin's seen once or twice in the hallway who he doesn't exchange more than polite nods with and it's strange, at such superficial level of acquaintanceship, to see her kiss someone right in front of his face. Out of respect, he looks away.
Round two goes by similarly, with a press of lips and annoying kids howling in the background— has anyone notified them they are actually sixteen years old, and not twelve? Seungmin breathes out a sigh of relief when the third round begins and readies himself to stand up as soon as it's done, eager to tell Minho he can walk home alone as revenge. Oh, the look he'll get on his stupid cat-like face. Seungminnie, no, wait for me! Ha.
"Minho," Someone says. "Your turn!"
Seungmin looks up. Minho is leaning forward and reaching for the green glass bottle without any sign of shyness, twisting it with enough force to send it spinning all over the clear, wide space in the middle. Someone complains about the possibility of a shoe-clad foot getting in the way and altering the result, but it whirls on, uninterrupted and purposeful, as expectant teenagers watch. Seungmin doesn't know why he feels so nervous, or why he cares so much about who it'll point to. He'll stare somewhere else, anyway, because he knows Minho too much — because he's his best friend, and it'd be awkward.
… But definitely not as embarrassing as this. The bottle comes to a slow stop, stilling in front of Seungmin. It's not crooked, or slightly pointing to the left, or stuck in the space between Seungmin and the girl sitting next to him. Its narrow mouth aims straight at him, firm in its choice, and sudden silence surrounds the otherwise chatty circle.
"It's okay, man, just spin again," A boy says after a moment. A few others chorus their agreement. "It happens sometimes."
Seungmin digs his nails into his palms. Minho frowns. "Why would I do that?"
"Because it landed on a dude?" The boy laughs nervously. He looks around to try and find an ally in someone else's eyes. "It's weird."
"It's not, though. It's just two people kissing," Minho says, gaze unwavering— he doesn't need to seek support from others when he fiercely trusts his own words. "I'll only spin again if Seungmin doesn't want to participate."
Maybe Minho is as cool as Hyunjin makes him out to be, so sure of himself and confident in his beliefs, willing to go to the end of the world to defend them with iron fists and quick-witted words; enough to kiss his best friend to fight homophobic remarks in front of everyone in his year. Seungmin is rarely wrong, but he'll admit this mistake and the one he'd made earlier: the sun wasn't just reflected in Minho's eyes— it's burning in them, and he can see it clearly when he turns to search Seungmin's own wide ones for an answer.
"I'll— I'll do it," Seungmin stutters.
Three years ago, his best friend was his first kiss. They never talk about it, but Seungmin's pretty sure he was Minho's as well. There have been plenty of other mouths on Minho's lips since then, but Seungmin's experience starts and ends with Felix's old Spider-Man rug under his knees and Minho's touch on his leg shocking him into retreat. He knows what it is now, at least. Definitely not hotdog induced nausea.
"Alright," Minho moves closer, ignoring everyone else in the circle. "Come here, Seungminnie."
This is such a huge problem, he thinks. Minho may have erased any trace of Seungmin left on him, but he's still making Seungmin's lips tingle when he steps into his space, as if they'd parted merely two second ago and not long-gone thousands . This Minho is nothing like thirteen year old Minho, while Seungmin feels exactly like twelve year old Seungmin did. Holy shit. A massive fucking problem.
They shift on their knees to the center, bottle of spilled fate pushed to one side, and Minho looks so calm . As kids there'd been a shared moment of nerves, matching sweaty palms and identical pink cheeks, and now Seungmin's been left all alone— these feelings are his own and no one else's. To the crowd, this is entertainment. To Minho, a game. To Seungmin, his personal Big Bang.
His best friend cradles his cheek (Oh. My. God.) and smiles. "At the count of 3?"
Lee Minho , always so perceptive. He knows Seungmin so well it's beyond infuriating. The small jab at their first kiss helps Seungmin regain his footing, determined to stand on the same ground as Minho even if he's in an entirely different part of the world on the inside. He rolls his eyes (a well-known move from his part when it comes to the dynamics of their friendship) in an attempt at normalcy, plants his hands on Minho's legs, and dives in with his eyes closed.
Minho's hand flies off of his skin in surprise, left hovering somewhere near Seungmin's head instead. Seungmin lets the feeling of his lips on Minho's stretch for a total of five seconds before pulling away and standing up in a hurry, patting his pants where they'd been pressed against the ground. He hates it— the round of too-loud whispers surrounding them, Hyunjin's wide eyes staring at him from his spot. Minho, still on his knees and looking up at him with a confused tilt of his head.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
Seungmin thinks it's quite obvious: escaping . "You said three rounds. This was the third."
Minho tries to reach for his hand. "Seungminnie—"
"I'm… You know I have to get home, hyung," Seungmin stutters out with a smile that is more weak than reassuring. "I'll see you later."
"Uhm, okay. Text me?"
(On his way home, he decides he won't text him. At least for the rest of the day— or until he can figure out why Minho had seemed so disappointed to see him go. But it turns out he really , really can't find a logical reason for that, even though he's never tried so hard for something. And now:
minho hyung
its been three days
can we talk???
seungmin
yeah
im sorry ive been acting weird
minho hyung
its fine
i just miss you
seungmin
i miss you too
Now he doesn't think it matters at all.)
4
They're a little old for sleepovers, and yet here Seungmin is: 18 years old and knocking on Minho's door with his pillow under his arm and his toothbrush in hand. Minho's dad opens the door for him and sends him up the stairs to his son's room, where his best friend sits on the bed with his laptop propped on his lap. The Sims mellow music for build mode plays through the speakers, mixed with the computer's huffs and wails of effort as it does its best to run the game.
Seungmin announces his arrival with a suggestion. "You need to get an actual PC for gaming before your laptop gives out."
"No need," Minho says without taking his eyes away from the screen. "She's a tough one."
Seungmin jumps onto the mattress, shifting to lie on his back next to Minho. He runs a hand along the back of the computer as if he were caressing someone's face. "If he doesn't treat you right, dump him, queen."
"Excuse me?" Minho pulls the laptop up and away from him with a theatrically offended expression. "I'm all she's ever wanted. And she likes to be called princess — but you wouldn't know that."
Seungmin laughs, and soon enough Minho's joining him with his own fit of giggles, cat-like eyes crinkled. He finishes up remodeling his virtual house and saves the changes before springing up and running to the bathroom to pee, apparently having been holding it in for half an hour to make the most out of his inspiration in interior design. Seungmin calls him stupid on his way out of the room, and Minho shouts at him to not brainwash his computer into breaking up with him while he's gone.
"Think about it," Is all Seungmin says to the device before pulling out his phone. A little limited in vocabulary, all she does is reply with more Sims music.
It's actually a nice tune, even if repetitive, and Seungmin finds himself moving his sock-clad feet side to side to the melody while he scrolls through his socials. Nothing much has happened since he last checked twenty minutes before, right before hopping into his mom's car so she could drive him to Minho's place, so he gets bored quickly. With a sigh, he drops his phone on his stomach and turns his head slightly to look at the computer screen, following Minho's Sim around the house like it's a reality show.
Sim-Minho stands in front of the toilet and speaks gibberish to it, upset that it's filled the bathroom with water he now has to mop up. Then he looks at himself in the mirror and runs a hand through his hair while ah -ing appreciatively at his own reflection. He cleans, makes himself a snack, and watches TV until, to real-life Seungmin's surprise, Sim-Seungmin comes home from work.
Their virtual versions greet each other with a wave and start to chat, speech bubbles changing as the conversation flows: a newspaper, and some other Sim's face they both seem to agree on disliking (if the giant, red X on his face is anything to go by). Seungmin turns to lie on his side with a curious smile in order to get a better grasp of the gossip. A glass of champagne, a ring, and then—
Sim-Minho grabs Sim-Seungmin by the hips and dips him for a passionate, movie-style kiss that seems perfectly normal for both of them. In fact, Sim-Seungmin wraps his arms around him as Sim-Minho pulls him back onto his feet, and seems reluctant to let go. The symbols next to their heads signal the act has had a positive effect on their relationship, and when Seungmin looks for the bar, he has to read their status three times to believe it.
Boyfriend. Sim-Seungmin is Sim-Minho's romantic partner. They kiss three more times in the time that it takes real-life Minho to come out of the bathroom, and Seungmin is definitely blushing pathetically at the thought of his best friend adding him and then pursuing a relationship with him in a goddamned game .
"Do you wanna watch a movie, or something?" Minho asks casually, unaware of what Seungmin has just discovered.
He replies with a different question. "You made me in The Sims?"
Minho stops with a knee up on the bed and his hand splayed on the mattress, frozen before he could fully climb up. "Uh."
"And we're… dating each other," Seungmin continues.
"It's, uh—" Minho licks his lips and swallows nervously. He fakes a laugh, too high-pitched and structured (three ha-has in a row) to be real. "Very funny, actually. You see, I… was joking. It's a joke."
Seungmin blinks. "A joke."
"I did it ironically?" Minho tries, but it sounds more like he's trying to convince himself. Seungmin stares, and it takes ten seconds for Minho to break. He lowers his head in defeat. "Fine. I'm a loser."
He nudges the computer closed and pushes it out of the way to sit next to Seungmin, who rises up as well to lean his back against the headboard. Minho's ears are lit up a fiery red, and he can't look Seungmin in the eyes for more than a second, limiting himself to side-glances that simply aren't enough. Seungmin needs to see it— that comforting glint of honesty that has gotten them where they're now. Otherwise, he won't think it's true.
"Seungminnie."
"If you're gonna say it, I need you to look at me."
Minho casts his eyes upward, directly at the ceiling. "This is really embarrassing."
"Hyung," Seungmin insists.
"I like you," He says. He drags his hands over his face once before committing to eye contact like Seungmin wants him to. "I like you."
Seungmin's heart beats cheerfully, each pump pushing the corners of his mouth into a bigger, wider teasing smile. "The Sims, really?"
"Can you not?" Minho groans.
+1
Seungmin finds Minho's hand and takes it into his own, fingers fitting together perfectly. Minho's still allowing him to look into his eyes even though the red has spread to the sides of his neck and, as always, it's the familiar light in them that pulls Seungmin in until all he can see and feel is a childhood lived together, their closeness summed up in an endless stream of memories. Minho's lips brush against his own, and Seungmin tilts his head to press against them— for real, this time.
"Your Sim dipped my Sim," Seungmin says when they part. "Like, swept him right off his feet. It was really romantic."
Minho rolls his eyes. "You want me to take notes?"
He doesn't twirl Seungmin in the air with the rain falling during a starry night, but he does slide down to lie on his back and tug on Seungmin's shirt for him to do the same. Face to face and with his head pillowed on Minho's stretched arm, Seungmin realizes that, much like the virtual version of himself, he'd rather never let go.