Work Text:
Seungkwan, by virtue of working with Jeonghan, is first.
Technically, he isn’t Jeonghan’s ex. The two of them like to act like it, because the veiled horror with which people respond to the thought of them dating is endlessly hilarious, but one date does not a relationship make.
Jeonghan remembers it well.
It had been a great, auspicious night—warm, pleasant, the moon already peeking out from behind some clouds despite the sun still lurking in the sky—when Jeonghan had sat down at a table opposite Seungkwan for their blind date. I think you two will get along really well, Nayeon had said, and it was true. Remains true, even now. They had gotten along stunningly, in a way that made Jeonghan wonder what he was even doing with his life beforehand.
It was an instant connection: both of them a little mean, deeply empathetic, and wicked smart. Smart enough to realize and agree within minutes that they wouldn’t work out as boyfriends, but would as everything else: best friends, co-conspirators, shoulders to cry on. Roommates, for a while. Coworkers now, after Seungkwan pulled some strings to get Jeonghan a job.
At the time, Jeonghan had appreciated the help immensely. Now, as he stares outside, watching Kim Mingyu approach through the huge café windows, he’s wondering if he shouldn’t have just moved back in with his parents and mowed lawns for pocket change.
He’s been very careful in drawing out the spaces of his life that Mingyu is allowed to occupy. It’s been almost two months now, and the borders are still up. No staying the night. No public affection. No meeting each other’s friends. It’s the kind of thing that makes him feel fucking insane sometimes, when he’s lying in bed and unable to escape his thoughts, but he can’t bring himself to abandon it yet.
At least Mingyu has been remarkably nice about it all. He isn’t oblivious to the situation; he knows, even without Jeonghan spelling it out, but he’s never pushed, always stayed respectful of the unspoken boundaries. This achieves the double whammy of making Jeonghan feel overwhelmingly guilty about it all, and increasingly fond of Mingyu because of it.
It is this combination of guilt and fondness that Jeonghan blames for him evidently losing his mind and giving Mingyu his place of work, and thus implicit permission to visit said place of work.
It hadn’t occurred to him, at the time, that doing this would mean skyrocketing the chances of Mingyu and Seungkwan meeting. It’s occurring to him now, as he watches Mingyu walk into the café, a smile on his face and a paper bag in his hand. Jeonghan can’t see what’s inside, but he can pretty confidently guess that it’s some kind of home-baked good. That’s just the kind of person Mingyu is. He is the kind of person who, after being given permission, visits his… whatever at work with baked goods in tow, completely unaware of what he’s getting himself into.
He’s in the store now. Jeonghan resists the urge to hide.
As Mingyu comes closer to the counter, he calls out, “Hi, Jeonghan-hyung.” He’s beaming, but somehow still comes across as shy.
Seungkwan, who has been eyeing Mingyu from the moment he entered, sends Jeonghan a look. Eyebrows raised slightly.
Jeonghan meets his eyes and tries to communicate please act like a normal person , before turning to Mingyu.
“Hi,” he replies. Mingyu brightens even further once he’s under Jeonghan’s attention. Seeing this, Jeonghan tries to keep the reproach out of his voice. “You didn’t tell me you would be coming by today,”
Mingyu shakes his paper bag a little. “Surprise? I brought cookies,”
He brought cookies.
Jeonghan doesn’t need to look to know that Seungkwan’s eyes are raised to his hairline now.
“You brought cookies,” he repeats, biting back his smile. “That’s sweet,”
Mingyu grins. “You know me; sweet as a plum,”
Seungkwan gives a very polite cough. Jeonghan, expert that he is, translates it to mean I don’t know what’s happening here and if I’m not caught up in the next few seconds the consequences are going to be dire.
Jeonghan smiles at Mingyu, gives him a silent apology, and says, “Mingyu, this is my best friend Seungkwan,”
“Nice to meet you, Seungkwan,” Mingyu says, because he’s lovely. Jeonghan sends up another silent apology.
Then he turns to Seungkwan and says, “Seungkwan, this is my friend, Mingyu,” without a single beat missed.
Even without the conspicuous silence that follows that, Jeonghan would be able to discern Mingyu’s reaction by the look on Seungkwan’s face.
Wow, Seungkwan’s face is saying. Nice one. Great work you’ve done here.
Fuck you, Jeonghan thinks back ferociously. He closes his eyes. He breathes in.
He opens his eyes, and continues with, “He’s the boy I was telling you about,”
The next thing Seungkwan does with his expression translates to I think you’re ridiculous, but I also think it’s entertaining, so go on. Jeonghan supposes that’s encouragement enough.
He hazards a glance towards Mingyu. His nose is scrunched up, like he’s still a little put out, but he’s holding back a smile. When their eyes meet, Mingyu glances to the side, his cheeks pink. Jeonghan had figured he would like knowing that he’s talked about.
Because Seungkwan is an unrepentant bitch, he says, “Ah, the one who smashed your cologne, right?”
Mingyu’s expression immediately turns betrayed. Jeonghan feels the same way.
“You tell people about that?” Mingyu whines.
After sending a look towards Seungkwan that promises merciless retribution as soon as they’re alone, Jeonghan turns back to Mingyu and says, “My hallway still smells like it! What am I supposed to say when people ask?”
Mingyu whines more, his entire posture slumping. “It came with the place?”
Jeonghan laughs, and Mingyu pouts again.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he soothes, wanting to reach out and pinch Mingyu’s cheek. Instead, he busies his hands by grabbing a cup, and says, “Let me make it up to you. Iced americano?”
Mingyu’s expression is torn between reluctant delight at the prospect of coffee and some lingering upset, but he nods. Jeonghan bites back another laugh.
He falls into the rhythm of making coffee easily, glad to have something familiar to focus on in such a precarious situation. He leaves it to Mingyu and Seungkwan, two of the most sociable people he knows, to pick up whatever conversation is left behind.
He’s never let himself consider it before, but they would get along stunningly as well. Mingyu would probably get along stunningly with all of his friends. He promptly stops letting himself consider it.
True to form, Mingyu steps closer to the counter, big eyes staring at Seungkwan, and asks, “So, hyung talks about me a lot?”
Jeonghan snorts. Seungkwan does something complicated with his face that happens when he finds something funny, but has committed to being a bitch already and so refuses to show joy.
“You’re the one that dropped the cologne?” he asks.
Mingyu huffs. “Yes.”
“Are you also the one that tripped and knocked over his pot plant?”
After a pause, and a potent glare sent Jeonghan’s way, Mingyu mutters, “Yes,”
“And the one who argued with him while he was in the middle of a presentation?”
“...Yes,”
Seungkwan smiles, pretty and mean. “Yeah, he talks about you plenty,”
Jeonghan bursts into giggles. Mingyu turns to him and whines, “Hyung!” and he laughs harder.
Mingyu whirls back to Seungkwan, his entire face red, and demands, “Does he say anything nice about me?”
Seungkwan looks over at Jeonghan. Jeonghan looks down at the coffee dripping into the cup.
Yes— and no. Seungkwan had said it already: Jeonghan talks about Mingyu plenty. The part left out was that Jeonghan doesn’t talk about Mingyu specifically. Doesn’t say oh, remember Mingyu? when he recounts the stories; he sidesteps around names, identifiers, casually throwing out anecdotes about this boy in my class or this guy I know. Seungkwan’s smart enough to put it all together, but Mingyu’s presence in Jeonghan’s life is a puzzle with half of the pieces missing.
Seungkwan looks at Jeonghan. Jeonghan looks back, but he doesn't say anything.
It doesn't matter anyway; Seungkwan is perfectly capable of reading what Jeonghan wants off of his face, and he turns back to Mingyu with a slight smile. Mingyu brightens in expectation.
"How much would you pay for the information?" Seungkwan asks, and Mingyu throws his head back in a groan.
“I can see why you two are friends,” Mingyu sighs, but he’s smiling already. Whether he can read something in Jeonghan’s body language, or whether he simply thinks talking to Seungkwan isn’t worth the effort, he decides to switch track. “Is it fun working with Jeonghan-hyung?”
Seungkwan looks over at Jeonghan. Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan looks back and communicates that yes, he has permission to embarrass him. Brat.
Seungkwan and Mingyu fall into an easy conversation. They hit it off, and they’re both on their best behaviour even though it might not seem like it. Eventually, the sound of their talking soothes Jeonghan more than it makes him anxious. It’s a good sign. Jeonghan had been half-convinced he would have a nervous breakdown the first time he introduced Mingyu to one of his friends. Of course, the very fact that he isn’t having a nervous breakdown kinda makes him want to have one, but he summarily blocks out that thought.
When he hands Mingyu the cup, Mingyu takes it with both hands and strokes Jeonghan’s fingers before pulling away. Looking at him, standing in Jeonghan’s workplace, blushing, makes Jeonghan want to do something crazy like lean over the counter and kiss him.
Instead he says, “I’ll see you later?”
Mingyu’s blush deepens. It’s cute, how the smallest things make him go pink. So easily delighted with the world. “You’re done at 5, right?”
Jeonghan nods. Mingyu nods too, and continues, “Alright, I’ll see you, hyung.”
He leaves the store with obvious reluctance. When the door slips shut, Jeonghan does not look at Seungkwan. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with his face, and he certainly doesn’t want to know what Seungkwan’s opinion on it is.
They go about the rest of their day in the cafe. Because Seungkwan is significantly more soft on Jeonghan than he would ever admit to, he doesn’t mention it for the rest of the shift. He can probably tell how keyed up Jeonghan still is, and aside from that, Jeonghan hates being cornered. Seungkwan knows him well.
He waits until they’ve locked up, now standing outside in the bite of the autumn air, to say anything.
“So,” is all he gets out before Jeonghan’s phone goes off.
[17:02] minggoo 💖🐶
Did I pass?
Usually Seungkwan would keep talking regardless of what notifications Jeonghan was getting because he’s a bitch, but something must show on Jeonghan’s face. He pauses. “Is that him?”
After a moment, Jeonghan shows him the text. There’s no going back now, he supposes. Mingyu is already a person who quantifiably exists to Seungkwan.
Seungkwan snorts. “Eager to impress, isn’t he?” When Jeonghan smiles and shrugs, he rolls his eyes. “God, hyung, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger already.”
Jeonghan giggles. “A little bit, huh?” he replies, feeling as pleased as he does weird about the whole situation. It’s just Seungkwan, he tells himself, and he musters up the courage to say, “He’s fun.”
Seungkwan watches him for a moment. Then, he nods. “Good,” he says, tone both firm and casual. “Have some fun, hyung.”
They take a selfie together, Seungkwan holding up a 2/10 on his phone while Jeonghan puts up a peace sign. Mingyu replies with a string of crying emojis and then an invitation to dinner.
Jeonghan, tentatively, feels excited for the future.
—
(Later that night, when they’re curled up in bed together, Mingyu murmurs, “Seriously though, did Seungkwan like me?”
Jeonghan huffs a laugh. “He did. He’s just a bitch.”
“Like you,” Mingyu teases, but his smile is so indulgent that Jeonghan lets it pass without comment. He shifts closer to kiss Jeonghan on the forehead. “I’m sorry for dropping by without saying anything.”
Jeonghan shrugs as best he can while lying down. “It’s not like you knew Seungkwan was going to be working.”
“Yeah, but I knew he worked with you often.” Mingyu bites his lip. “I… kinda did it on purpose. I thought that if I just showed up, then, whatever happened would happen. I knew the possibility was there. I was— I was hoping—”
“Minggoo-yah,” Jeonghan interrupts gently, “I know.” He’d begun suspecting as soon as he had time alone to sort out his thoughts. At first, it had annoyed him, but— Jeonghan can’t really bring himself to hold it against Mingyu. As far as being manipulative goes, dropping by his workplace to bring him cookies in the hopes that his friend will be there as well is absurdly tame. Jeonghan’s done more underhanded things to people in his life, and has rarely gone so far as to admit it afterwards. “I’m not mad.”
Mingyu looks at him with big, open eyes. “Are you sure? I know I shouldn’t have done it; it’s okay if you’re mad, hyung. I shouldn’t have pushed.” He looks so serious, so committed to seeing this conversation through.
Jeonghan reaches out and smooths his hand down the side of Mingyu’s perfect face. Curls it into the junction of his neck. “Really, Mingyu, it’s okay. Take it from the resident expert in pushiness; you weren’t being pushy at all.” He exhales softly. “I know I make things difficult—”
“No, never!” Mingyu protests. His hand comes up to cup the one Jeonghan has on his neck, as though he feels the immediate need to hold on. “You don’t at all.”
Jeonghan raises his eyebrows. “I kinda do.”
Mingyu sets his jaw. “Well,” he starts, blushing at the same time as he tries to tell Jeonghan off, “I like that. I like you, hyung. Everything else, we can figure out.”
The things Jeonghan wants to say to that are a river, are a flood, so instead, he leans forward and kisses Mingyu. Everything else, they can figure out.)
—
It seems it would behoove Jeonghan to remind himself more often that life is cruel and unforgiving and getting your hopes up only leads to crushing disappointment and humiliation, because the second time around, is Seungcheol. Who isn’t a problem in and of himself—Seungcheol is one of Jeonghan’s best friends, and Jeonghan loves him dearly. Seungcheol, however, is also 1) actually his ex and 2) very recently returned from doing a master’s degree abroad. Whereas Seungkwan was going into the situation with some awareness of Jeonghan’s… whatever, Seungcheol has nothing except a prerogative to be very defensive of Jeonghan.
Worst of all, Jeonghan hadn’t been prepared for it at all. He and Mingyu had just been on a date at the dog park when they ran into Seungcheol. Like, Mingyu has his arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders. Jeonghan is going to drop through the crust of the earth.
“Jeonghan!” Seungcheol calls, jogging over with Kkuma in tow. God, she’s so cute, but even she can’t make him feel better about this situation. “And… uh?”
Seungcheol gives Mingyu a once-over. Not mean or unfriendly, but pointed. Mingyu smiles at him, but then looks at Jeonghan, uncharacteristically hesitant. He probably senses the weird vibes in the air. Or can feel how Jeonghan’s gone stiff underneath his arm.
Ever the initiative taker, Seungcheol doesn’t wait for Jeonghan to introduce them. He nods at Mingyu and says, “Hey, I’m Choi Seungcheol. I’m one of Jeonghan’s best friends. And you’re…?”
Mingyu pauses. Jeonghan is filled with the conviction that if he lets Mingyu speak, he’s going to lose control of the situation entirely.
He blurts out, “This is Kim Mingyu. We’re, um, dating.”
Next to him, Mingyu goes still. In front of him, Seungcheol gives a slow blink.
Jeonghan twists his fingers into the fabric of Mingyu’s jacket, and meets Seungcheol’s gaze haed on.
Moving overseas has changed Seungcheol. It’s clear in many ways, but especially when he says, with composure that Jeonghan doesn’t quite remember him possessing, “I didn’t know you were dating anybody. Congratulations, Hannie.”
Jeonghan feels, very suddenly, very terrible.
Seungcheol had been Jeonghan’s first real, serious relationship. They had been great for each other as friends, and just as good as boyfriends. Jeonghan would’ve gone insane in his last year of university without Seungcheol.
When they broke up, it hadn’t been because they grew apart. Simply because they were growing up. Seungcheol was considering his options past undergraduate, and they seemed to be pointing him overseas; Jeonghan himself was having a crisis of career. They were standing at a crossroads, and neither was going to follow the other.
So with a lot of talking, some screaming fights, and an enduring sense of love, they parted ways. Seungcheol went overseas. Jeonghan stayed.
Quietly, Jeonghan replies, “Thank you, Cheollie.”
There’s a pause, and then Mingyu slides the arm he has around Jeonghan’s shoulders down to the small of his back. Gently, he places his palm there. The hand at my back, Jeonghan thinks, with fondness and chagrin. Does he need the support so transparently?
Mingyu says, “It’s all pretty new, so I hope you won’t hold it against him.”
Seungcheol stares Mingyu down for a few moments. He doesn’t let show on his face what he thinks of what he sees.
Turning to Jeonghan, he says, “Of course I wouldn’t,”
Seungcheol had missed the worst of it when he was overseas. His first year of Masters, he didn’t fly back at all, so caught up in his study. By the time he came back the following year’s winterbreak, everything had already passed. All that was left were the secondhand accounts from their friend group trying to deal with the aftershocks, and the wreck that Jeonghan was in the wake.
Jeonghan knows Seungcheol blames himself a bit, for leaving. Just as he knows that Seungcheol blames him a bit, in a roundabout, vague way, for not telling him sooner. In all honestly, this rift they now find between them isn’t either of their faults, but it doesn’t make Jeonghan feel any less guilty about it.
Jeonghan leans his cheek against Mingyu’s shoulder for a second, before lifting his head and saying to him, “It’s okay, Minggoo. Seungcheol’s just protective of me.” Then, he looks to Seungcheol, and says, “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you earlier.”
Seungcheol’s face softens, and he waves Jeonghan away easily. “It’s okay, Jeonghan, I know we’ve both been busy.” It’s sad at the same time as it is proud, and Jeonghan feels bruised, tender all over, at the thought of the people they once were and the people they’ve become.
Seungcheol turns to look at Mingyu head-on and says, “You better be good to him.”
Jeonghan starts smiling even before Mingyu speaks. Seungcheol doesn’t know what he just got himself into.
“I will,” Mingyu says, lovely and serious. He stands up straighter, expression brighter, blossoming under the challenge and at the chance to please. “You can kick my ass if I’m ever not. Really, feel free.”
He must have the earnest puppy expression turned up all the way, because even Seungcheol looks slightly bowled over. Jeonghan has to hold in a laugh at the sight.
With an admirable recovery, Seungcheol nods and says, “Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.” It’s warmer this time; Mingyu has evidently just impressed Seungcheol. Jeonghan thought he might, but he’s still relieved. Even accounting for his absence, Seungcheol has a lot of pull in their friendship group. If he didn’t approve of Mingyu the rest of the process would be much more difficult.
Jeonghan can’t believe he’s considering the rest of the process now. When it had just been Seungkwan, it still felt manageable; Seungkwan was loyal and smart, and would keep a secret to the grave if asked to. With Seungcheol in the loop, the wheels have well and truly been set into motion. Seungcheol isn’t going to put up with Jeonghan’s bullshit, and especially not now that Jeonghan’s outright said they were dating.
Strangely, he’s panicked and he isn’t. He feels strangely detached from the emotions of the moment; he’s sure he’s going to go home and have a very drawn-out freak out about this, but for now, he feels weirdly steady. It had been an inevitability. Something that was always going to happen.
This is a thing, now. Mingyu and Jeonghan. No going back.
—
(Mingyu raises his eyebrows at Jeonghan when they’re walking back from the dog park, and that’s all it takes for Jeonghan to crack.
“Seungcheol and I used to date,” he tells Mingyu. It doesn’t feel like a confession, because it isn’t, but it does feel… weird. They haven’t talked about their dating history. Obvious reasons aside, it simply makes Jeonghan feel ansty. Like there’s something actually developing here. Of course, there is something developing here, and he’s being insane, but it’s not like he can just stop. First of all, that’s half of his charm.
Mingyu nods. He says, “Ah, I thought so. Should I be worried?” He’s trying to sound nonchalant and chill, and he’s mostly succeeding, but Jeonghan can see how much his grip on Aji and Bobpul’s leashes has tightened. It’s sweet at the same time that it makes Jeonghan want to start running.
Jeonghan breathes in deeply and replies, “No, no. Like I said, he’s protective of me. He doesn’t want me to get hurt.”
Mingyu studies Jeonghan. Then, he nods in acceptance. “I get that,” he says, so lovely that Jeonghan has to reward him with a quick kiss.
Mingyu leans down again to chase his mouth, and they end up idly kissing on the side of the street for a few seconds.
When they break apart, Mingyu laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Ah, hyung,” he says, voice pitched up, “I’m starting to rethink this whole meet-your-friends thing.”
Jeonghan snorts in amusement. “You should be glad you met Seungkwan and Seungcheol first. You’re starting from easy.”
With a pout, Mingyu whines, “They were the easy ones?”
This time, Jeonghan laughs for real: clear into the open air. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” he says, and it’s true; Seungkwan and Seungcheol are both more bark than bite. “There’s going to be confrontations you’ll be glad to get out of with your life intact.”
Mingyu sighs dramatically, and wraps an arm around Jeonghan’s waist to pull him closer. “You’re such a chore,” he groans, but he follows it up with a brush of his lips to Jeonghan’s cheek, so fleeting and chaste that it makes Jeonghan burn hotter than anything they’ve done today.
“Come on,” he says, wrapping a hand around Mingyu’s arm and tugging. “Let’s get back to your apartment.”
Mingyu grins at him and follows easily.)
—
A day after that, Jihoon texts him.
[13:25] jihoonie
kim mingyu, huh
[13:25] me
Do u and cheollie have nothing better 2 do than gossip abt me
[13:25] jihoonie
it’s not like u tell us anything
Ouch. Harsh, but fair. That’s how Jihoon’s always been.
He and Jeonghan didn’t really date. They had been dormmates in freshman year of university, and when you’re both 18 and confused about everything and perpetually stressed and kinda obsessed with each other and living together, certain arrangements seem to make a lot of sense. They kept it up for the better part of a year, until they both stabilized a bit and didn’t need to use each other as emotional crutches. Jeonghan likes to think it benefited the both of them, even if it was an insane choice to make in retrospect. They’re steadier because of it. Even now, he’s certain. They may have drifted slightly in the past few years, as their lives took different paths, but Jeonghan still goes to Jihoon when he needs to feel like he isn’t withering away in his skin.
[13:26] me
m(_ _;m)
How do you know him?
[13:26] jihoonie
he’s in my stats class
nice enough
talks too much
Surprised, Jeonghan feels a bit of a lump forming in his throat. Jihoon is affectionate and tender whenever it takes you off guard the most; sometimes, it’s easy to think that he avoids it altogether. But he doesn’t. He chooses it carefully, shows it uniquely. It means a lot that he reached out about Mingyu. Jihoon is good at reading other people and has notoriously high standards; from him, those messages are a stamp of approval. Jeonghan hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear something like this until now, looking down at his phone, feeling the relief crest over him like a wave.
[13:28] me
Thanks, jihoonie
[13:28] jihoonie
it’s whatever
that beanstalk better treat u well
He sends a severe looking cat sticker after that. Jeonghan giggles at his phone, wondering how he got so lucky in life to have friends like these.
—
(
[15:42] me
You know Lee Jihoon
[15:42] minggoo 💖🐶
Ya
He’s in my stats class
P sure he hates me TT he always glares at me!!!
[15:42] me
Lol he doesn’t hate u
[15:42] minggoo 💖🐶
How do u know that! How do u know him!
[15:43] me
He was my roommate in first year
[15:42] minggoo 💖🐶
You didn’t answer the other question…
Omg
Did he msg u about me
He did right
Omg he totally likes me
Ahahahahahah im going to sit next to him next time in class
[15:42] me
Youre ridiculous
But tell me how he reacts lol
)
—
“So like,” Mingyu says a week later, dipping down to whisper into Jeonghan’s ear, “is this a terrible time to tell you that Minghao and I used to hook up?”
Jeonghan snorts and presses the bell to Minghao and Seokmin’s apartment again. “It’s cute you think I didn’t know that already,” he murmurs back. “You’re in an art appreciation society together. I know that’s a cover for orgies.”
Giggling, Mingyu replies, “I want to state for the record that we do appreciate art as well. It’s a multifaceted club.”
“I’m sure there’s plenty of appreciating going on,” Jeonghan says dryly, and then the door opens. Minghao smiles at them from the other side.
“Jeonghan-hyung, Mingyu, hey,” he says. He ushers them inside into probably the nicest apartment Jeonghan’s ever seen a pair of 24-year-olds own.
From inside the kitchen, Seokmin calls, “Welcome, guys!”
Jeonghan and Mingyu chorus back their greetings. Mingyu hands Minghao the wine that they—well, Mingyu, mostly—bought for tonight, and the two of them have a chat about seasonal harvests and whatever it is that wine people talk about.
Jeonghan wanders over to look at the paintings hung up in the living room. Some done by Minghao, some done by other people in the Seoul art circuit. He stares at the strokes of paint, vivid in some places, tender in others, and tries to figure out how he’s feeling about this all so far.
Having dinner here had actually been Minghao’s idea. It turns out that he, Seokmin and Mingyu have been best friends for years, which Jeonghan definitely should’ve known but was too busy being crazy to find out. When the news started spreading around about Jeonghan finally dating again, and who exactly, Minghao reached out to suggest a catchup. He’s always been able to read meaning from Jeonghan’s sharp edges; it doesn’t surprise Jeonghan in the slightest that he caught onto his reluctance to let his and Mingyu’s lives mesh. Having the first official meet-the-friends be a part that already overlaps makes sense. Eases the process. Hopefully, will shut off all of the worst thoughts in Jeonghan’s head.
Jeonghan finds that so far, this tactic seems to be working. He still has a very complicated set of feelings on Mingyu being so much more present in his life, but in this specific instance, it’s almost nice to see how Mingyu interacts with Minghao, who Jeonghan knows and loves so dearly. Like it’s proof that Mingyu has been out here this whole time, living his own life, completely unrelated to Jeonghan. It’s ridiculously narcissistic of Jeonghan to even need this clarified, but he’s trying hard not to hold things like that against himself.
Mingyu has been friends with my friends this whole time, Jeonghan thinks to himself, letting the thought sink in. Then, a little gentler: he doesn’t have anything to hide.
Jeonghan still wants to flinch reflexively from that thought, but he eases it through his mind anyway, getting himself used to it. Mingyu doesn’t have anything to hide. He believes it. Or, he wants to.
Soon, Mingyu and Minghao wrap up their conversation, and Mingyu announces he’s going to go help Seokmin cook. He leaves, and it’s just Jeonghan and Minghao.
Minghao drifts closer. Jeonghan braces himself for impact.
“I painted that after my first heartbreak,” Minghao says, gesturing to the painting that Jeonghan’s been staring absently at for the past five minutes. “I thought the world was going to end.”
Jeonghan huffs a laugh. “Didn’t it?” he asks, thinking about how bleak everything felt to him after Seungcheol left. Thinking about how indescribably awful it all was after—
Minghao gives him a small smile. “I’m still here, aren’t I? And so are you. We all go forward eventually.”
If it were anybody else, Jeonghan would’ve walked away by now. Angry and miserable at the thought of somebody presuming to know him, his experiences, what he’s been through. But if anybody has a claim to that knowledge, it’s Minghao.
Back then, after it all went down and Jeonghan had gotten out, Minghao had been the only person he could stand to be around. Everybody else, he loved them, he let them fuss, he let them hover, but only Minghao made him feel like he wasn’t entirely empty. Or, maybe more accurately, Minghao was the only one who let him be empty.
They spent a lot of time together. Long hours with Jeonghan’s head in Minghao’s lap and the T.V. on, colours flickering with some show Jeonghan couldn’t even remember. Minghao had been the only person he could bear to be touched by. The only person who didn’t come to his side and expect something from him—grief, anger, reassurance. The only person who didn’t look at him with pity.
Minghao is allowed to tell Jeonghan that they all move on from terrible things, because Minghao was who bore him with patience when he dug his heels in, and who put out a hand when it was finally time to step forward.
Jeonghan exhales. “Yeah, we do.”
Minghao hums, and steps closer to Jeonghan. Close enough that Jeonghan can lean his head to the side, cushioned by Minghao’s shoulder. Together, they stare at the painting; bold strokes of desaturated greys and purples, fractured across the canvas by slices of black. Clear stretches of bleakness, cut up by dark lines of despair.
“This is a very good painting,” he tells Minghao.
Minghao preens a bit, then replies, “Mingyu’s a very good person.”
It makes Jeonghan jolt a bit. “That’s a non-sequitur,” he laughs, but of course it isn’t. Minghao doesn’t fuck around with his words. It’s probably what he came over to say initially.
Minghao hums non-committally. After Jeonghan settles a bit, he says, “Yeah. I know.”
Minghao nods. “I hope it works out for you two,” he says. Jeonghan is charmed by the way it sounds. I hope it works out for you two. A statement with so little baggage attached.
“Yeah,” Jeonghan says. “I hope so too.” He means it. He means it with whatever’s left of his heart, and then some.
—
Seokmin corners—no, corners is the wrong word, Seokmin is never so ruthless— approaches Jeonghan after dinner. Minghao and Mingyu are still in the dining room, deep in a discussion about this poetry review they read recently. There’s only so much Jeonghan can hear about ontological criticisms before he goes insane, so he excuses himself to go snoop in the bedroom. He doesn’t think Minghao would mind, and he genuinely thinks Seokmin would worry himself sick if he didn’t.
It’s a very nice bedroom. Jeonghan gets a good five minutes of smelling tea samples in before Seokmin enters.
“There you are, hyung,” he says warmly. “Find anything incriminating yet?”
Jeonghan laughs. God, he loves Seokmin. “Implying there’s incriminating stuff to find?”
Seokmin just winks at him, so obviously settled into his skin that the pride Jeonghan feels almost hurts.
Jeonghan and Seokmin have kissed exactly two times. They met in high-school, making Seokmin one of Jeonghan’s oldest lasting friends. In the way that it happens when you’re in high-school and trying to figure out if you’re gay, they pined on and off for each other for about two years. Then, one night at a party, they drunkenly made out.
Their second kiss was the next morning, hungover, sleep-dazed, trying to figure out if whatever this was was going to stick. It didn’t, but neither Jeonghan nor Seokmin felt particularly put out about it. They simply moved on, and now here they are: adults in their own right. Still a spark of that youthful nonsense in them somewhere, but grown up all the same.
Seokmin comes up to Jeonghan and backhugs him, enveloping him in his broad frame. Jeonghan leans back, sinking into the feeling of safety.
“Minghao has been friends with Mingyu since high-school,” Seokmin starts. “So I can’t really speak for him. But, just so you know, if you guys break up I’m 100% on your side. I don’t even care if you key his car or something.”
Jeonghan barks out a laugh at that, startled and delighted. “What happened to the timid little boy I met all those years ago?” he teases, poking his elbows into Seokmin’s sides. “You’re a regular white knight now, aren’t you?”
Seokmin rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning with the force of the sun. “Just trying to look out for you, hyung,” he says, and it’s so obviously dripping with kindness that Jeonghan doesn’t even chafe at the implications.
He laughs softly. “Alright, Seokminnie. If Mingyu breaks my heart and I need help trashing his house, you’re the first person I’m calling.” He gives Seokmin a hesitant smile. “Though I don’t think he’s going to do that,”
Seokmin smiles back too: not hesitant, but just as gentle. “I don’t think so either, hyung,” he says, sounding both glad and proud. Oh, Seokminnie. Even if he talks big, it still probably upset him to think about having to fight with one of his friends, even on behalf of another friend.
It’s nice to see Mingyu in this context. See how he acts around his friends, and how they view him; even better that these are people Jeonghan trusts so much. It makes Jeonghan feel less terrible about the big feelings he has inside of him for Mingyu, for one. A justification, or a validation, maybe. It tells him his judgement isn’t completely shot to hell.
On the other hand, it makes Jeonghan feel much, much more terrible. Mingyu was perfect on paper, and now he’s perfect in reality as well. Put together with somebody with Jeonghan, if it crashes and burns, it’s only ever going to be one of their fault.
Jeonghan leans into Seokmin more. “Will you like me even if I break Mingyu’s heart?” he asks.
Seokmin hums. “Maybe I’d like you even more. He deserves to experience rejection like the common people do.”
Jeonghan cackles.
—
(It takes two days for Jeonghan and Mingyu to really talk, afterwards. Jeonghan knows it’s a dick move, but he also knows that if they had talked any earlier, he would’ve only been much more of a dick.
“Hi, hyung,” Mingyu greets when Jeonghan opens his door. He walks inside without prompting, leaving his shoes next to Jeonghan’s on the rack and throwing his jacket onto the armchair, just like Jeonghan does because he’s too lazy to buy a stand.
“Bedroom?” Mingyu asks, loosening the tie at his neck. He must’ve come straight from work.
Jeonghan rolls his eyes and says, “Sit down.”
He can’t hold back his laugh when Mingyu nods and says, “Ah, couch, I see,” slyly. Still, he sits down and stretches out his arm, patting the spot next to him. When Jeonghan sits down, they fall together easily; Mingyu wraps his arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders, and Jeonghan curls his whole body into Mingyu’s. It’s comfortable. It makes him feel—safe.
Jeonghan says, “Seokmin and Minghao really like you.”
“I would hope so,” Mingyu snorts. Jeonghan tickles him in the side in response.
He breathes in, and he breathes out. “I really like you,” he murmurs, tucking his face out of sight in a mix of embarrassment and paralysing fear.
After a moment, Mingyu replies, “I really like you too, hyung.”
Unable to look at his face, Jeonghan simply nods. He can feel his cheeks getting hot. Even worse, there are slight shivers running through his body, and he can’t seem to unclench his fists. Some baseline vulnerability and he’s acting like he’s about to die. God, this is humiliating.
He grits his teeth and bears it. “I think you’re really good for me,” he mumbles into Mingyu’s shoulder. A great shoulder. Jeonghan should be telling Mingyu about how great his shoulders are instead of whatever the hell else he’s trying to accomplish here.
Mingyu exhales unsteadily. Jeonghan wishes he could see his face. Of course, he could, but that would require looking up so actually, he can’t. Still. He’s so cute. Such a nice, lovely face. Jeonghan loves looking at him.
Gently, Mingyu shifts so that his chin is tucked over Jeonghan’s head. He brings his other arm over to wrap around Jeonghan as well, and then they’re just—curled up against each other, on Jeonghan’s terrible leather couch. Joshua had bought it for him as the world’s worst housewarming gift: he knows Jeonghan hates the texture of leather against his skin, but also, it was literally a free couch.
Mingyu kisses the crown of Jeonghan’s head. He murmurs, “You’re so full of love. It just—seeps into everything you do. Even when you’re being ridiculous or unreasonable, I can’t be mad at you properly, because the love’s right under the surface and—”
Jeonghan jerks his head up hastily. In doing so he smacks into Mingyu’s chin—Mingyu yelps ow! at the same time Jeonghan keens in pain.
They pull apart. Mingyu covering his mouth while Jeonghan clutches his head. For a moment, all they do is stare at each other.
“What are you doing!” Jeonghan hisses.
Mingyu blinks at him, his face reddening. “I— I thought we were like, complimenting each other!” he hisses back. He’s speaking with a slight lisp. “You made me bite my tongue!”
“We weren’t complimenting each other!” Jeonghan shoots back, half-hysterical. “I mean, I was, but I was trying to ask you to be my boyfriend! Why did you start saying things about me?”
Mingyu is so appalled he takes away the hand covering his mouth so he can yell at Jeonghan better. “I thought I already was your boyfriend? And I can compliment you if I want!”
“Not out of the blue!”
“It literally was not out of the blue, you started it, I was—”
"I was trying to build up to something!"
“Well then what is it? And, need I remind you again, I'm already your boyfriend!”
"Maybe if you'd shut up and let me finish!"
Breathing heavily, Mingyu stares at Jeonghan. He cocks his head like, well, go on! Jeonghan stares back and wants to kiss him. God. Not the time.
He takes in a deep breath. “Come to my birthday party,” he says. His voice goes quiet and wobbly like it always does when he’s being too genuine and terrified of it.
Mingyu immediately comes off the offensive. “I already am,” he says, quiet and confused. “We talked about this a few weeks ago.”
They did. But Jeonghan—
He reaches out his hand, and Mingyu takes it. Focusing on that warmth, that immediate steadiness, Jeonghan continues, “As my boyfriend. Come to my birthday party so I can introduce you to everybody as my boyfriend.”
Jeonghan’s sister will be there. All of Jeonghan’s friend group, not just the assorted few they’ve encountered, will be there.
Mingyu stares at him. He holds onto Jeonghan’s hand very, very tightly.
“Hyung, are you sure?” he asks.
Jeonghan nods. He doesn’t think he should speak anymore. He doesn’t want to cry tonight.
Mingyu exhales, and then breaks into a grin so big that Jeonghan almost can’t look directly at it. He looks anyway. He couldn’t look away.
“Yeah,” Mingyu breathes, “shit, yeah, hyung. I’d love to. I—” He pauses, and it’s almost like he’s vibrating in place from the sheer joy. “Can I kiss you?”
Jeonghan nods again.
Mingyu leans forward and kisses him. Jeonghan closes his eyes, and for a while, nothing in the world seems so scary anymore.)
—
Jeonghan wakes up the morning after his party, bleary and tired, and tries to figure out why he feels so light. It comes back to him in all at once: Mingyu at his party, formally being introduced to his life.
Jeonghan sits up, and breathes in deeply.
It had gone well. Really, really well. Mingyu had gone out of his way to charm everyone, and it worked; he even managed to thaw over Jihoon and Seungcheol. Always such a hard worker. Passionate when it comes to things he cares about. It makes Jeonghan feel warm to know how much it mattered to him.
The meeting with his sister went well too. Jeonghan wasn't expecting it not to—he and Mirae aren't really the type to be protective—but seeing Mingyu speak with somebody so close to his heart was. Thrilling. Nerve-wracking. Then, all at once, deeply gratifying.
Still. When it all comes down to it, not even his sister was the person he really wanted Mingyu to meet.
He looks up as the door to his bedroom creaks open, and Joshua walks inside.
"Jeonghan," he calls softly. "You're awake."
Jeonghan nods as he sits up, still nestled in his blankets. Joshua walks over, sits down on the bed next to him, and tugs at some of Jeonghan's blanket pile.
With an exaggerated sigh, Jeonghan allows Joshua to get underneath. There's some wiggling, and Joshua very rudely sticks his cold feet underneath Jeonghan's thighs, but they settle quickly. Facing each other, leaning against the headboard. It's a mirror of what they used to do when they were children having sleepovers, unwilling to be the first to sleep. Whispering to each other in the dead of night.
Hong Joshua. Jeonghan's oldest friend. His dearest. Another piece of his soul.
"How are you feeling?" Joshua asks.
"Sleepy, but okay," Jeonghan replies. "I was too nervous last night to really drink."
Joshua nods. "It was a big night for you."
Jeonghan curls his hands into the blankets. He nods unsteadily, swallows once, twice, trying to ask the question that’s been on his mind ever since he took Mingyu by the hand last night, walked him over to Joshua, and said, Joshuji, this is my boyfriend.
Watching Joshua’s face carefully, he asks, “What did you think?”
Joshua raises his eyebrows. “Well, I’m a little pissed I was one of the last people to find out.” He continues, always unflinching, “Honestly, that concerns me a little.”
Jeonghan sighs. He knew this was coming already, knew Joshua wasn’t just going to let it slide. It’s a fair question.
“I know,” he mumbles. “I did want to tell you. Since the beginning. It’s just…”
It’s Joshua. Oldest friend, dearest friend, a part of his soul. Everybody else, Jeonghan can handle. At the end of the day, he can come to terms with anybody else’s judgement on Mingyu and come out the other side mostly intact. But not Joshua. He won’t let Jeonghan get away with that. Sees right through him.
If Joshua met Mingyu and found anything suspect, anything that gave him pause, Jeonghan would walk away and never look back. Jeonghan makes his own decisions. He’s self-contained in a way specific to himself, and always strives to be firmly in control. Nobody else gets to make that call.
But Joshua does. And Jeonghan’s realized over the past few weeks, as he sank deeper into Mingyu and everything the two of them could be, that he wants to keep this. He wants to keep it very, very badly.
He sighs again. Says, “Just answer the question, Shua.”
Joshua rolls his eyes, but acquiesces. “I thought he was nice. Funny. Kinda pissed me off that he was so handsome.”
“God, right?” Jeonghan snorts.
Joshua smiles. Gently, he takes Jeonghan’s hand. “I don’t think my opinion on him really matters, though. I care more about what you think about him. How you’re feeling about the relationship in general.” He pauses, and then says, “Can I be honest?”
Jeonghan huffs. “You haven’t been so far?” he replies, but he squeezes Joshua’s hand to let him know it’s okay all the same.
Joshua squeezes his hand back. “It worries me a bit that you’re getting into a relationship again. I know you can take care of yourself for the most part, and I don’t think that Mingyu is going to be… like that, but.” He purses his lips. “I wonder how much of this is driven by things other than attraction and love.”
Unflinching. Jeonghan would be biting anybody else if they said that to him.
“I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” he grumbles, but tries his best to think through his answer anyway.
Once again, it’s a fair question. Rings true, as well; in the early days of Jeonghan hooking up with Mingyu, it had been driven by loneliness and desperation as much as it had been by desire. He had thought it was just something to— get out of his system, a stepping stone in his journey back to being a real person. Mingyu had been there, had been lovely, and had been willing. It was easy.
And then, several weeks of easiness later, Jeonghan was sleeping worse when Mingyu wasn’t there, and he had more of Mingyu’s clothes in his house than he could give back in one go.
Jeonghan’s bad at being alone. He knows this. And Mingyu, for all that he drives Jeonghan crazy sometimes, has never left him alone for long.
“I think,” he starts, “I think I like being in a relationship. In some form. I mean, everybody does, that’s the point, but…” He shrugs, a little helpless. “You know me, Joshuji. I hate being alone. I need attention all the time—I’m clingy and possessive and jealous. It’s easier for me to be all of those things in a relationship. Makes more sense. I need the security of it. As much as you guys all put up with my bullshit, I can’t expect to monopolize my friends like that. I can get away with it in a relationship. And Mingyu… I like him. I like him a lot. He… makes me feel safe.”
Joshua watches him, taking all of that in. Then, he says, “We could date, if you wanted.”
The world pauses. Hangs in the balance, for a moment, as Jeonghan tries to rearrange it into one where that statement would make sense. When it starts again, he’s left staring at Joshua, who stares back, and is still confused.
“You…” he starts, “don’t want to date me.” Not quite a question. A reiteration of a statement. One that he thought he knew.
Joshua shrugs. “I mean, not particularly. But I would. I would, if it meant you felt safe. If that’s what you needed. It would be easy.” He meets Jeonghan’s eyes, and gives a grin. Firm at the same time he is fond. “We’d be good together.”
Jeonghan blinks, and is horrified to find his eyes getting hot. “Joshuji—” he says, already choked up a little, and Joshua groans and says, “No, don’t you start, ” and then Jeonghan’s laughing at the same time he is sniffling, overwhelmed at the sheer— the sheer fucking enormity of that.
It would be easy. They would be good together. Jeonghan wipes his eyes furiously.
He breathes in deeply. “Thank you, Shua,” he murmurs. “Thank you, but it’s okay. I— I really like Mingyu.” He thinks about talking with Minghao, Mingyu’s oldest friend. He wonders if Mingyu is having these kinds of conversations about him. “I really want it to work out between us,” he says, almost confesses. “And I think… I think it will.”
Joshua takes that in stride, nodding along. He leans forward and brushes a kiss to Jeonghan’s forehead.
“He makes you happy?” he asks.
Jeonghan nods, tearing up again. “Yeah,” he croaks. “He does.”
“Good. You deserve it.”
Yeah. Jeonghan thinks so too. He really, really thinks so too.
—
(Mingyu shows up at his apartment the next day with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and reservations to a BBQ place Jeonghan’s been meaning to try for ages. They dress up and go eat, spending the night smiling at each other over the hotplate and playing footsie underneath the table. Later, Jeonghan invites Mingyu back home and they fall into the bed, young and alive and beautiful. Mingyu puts his hands on Jeonghan, and Jeonghan feels more present in his body than he has in years.
And then, afterwards, when they’re lying in bed together, Mingyu clears his throat.
Jeonghan blinks at him in the lowlight.
Mingyu looks very serious. Beautiful. He says, “There was somebody else, wasn’t there? Between me and Seungcheol.”
Jeonghan imagines trying to explain to Mingyu the complicated web of quasi-romantic connections he has with most of his friends. Obviously, not at all the point, and not at all the time, but it would be funny.
He nods. “Yeah,” he says, feeling like it’s being scraped out of him.
Mingyu gives one, short nod. “Thought so. You don’t have to tell me. I just—” He clenches his jaw. “I thought so.”
Jeonghan’s heart aches for him. For himself, too. He murmurs, “I’m sorry.”
Mingyu shakes his head. “No, don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for. I just— the way some of your friends acted around me. It made me wonder. And I just wanted to know, to say…” He pauses. Swallows. “I love you. I never want you to hurt.”
Jeonghan’s breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t— he doesn’t think he can say it back, but he wants to say something, wants to take this hand that Mingyu’s been reaching out the whole time.
He says, “I want to tell you.”
“You don’t have to,” Mingyu replies immediately. “I’m always here to listen, but seriously, you don’t have to. I don’t need to know anymore.”
He’s so good. So kind. Jeonghan loves him back. Of course he does.
“I want to tell you,” he says again, slower, firmer. “I’ve never wanted to tell anybody before. I don’t even want to think about it, sometimes. But. I want to tell you.”
It’s the truth. Sure, Jeonghan’s told people, but he’s never wanted to. It was the circumstances, it was more for them then it was for him, it was what seemed required of him. He’s never, out of his own, tremulous volition, wanted to share it.
“Not now,” he continues, “but. Soon. Eventually. I— I want you to know.” He wants to open himself up to Mingyu. Crack open this shell he’s built around himself. Let the light in.
Mingyu says, “Okay. Whenever you’re ready, hyung. I’ll be here.”
Jeonghan smiles. He leans in and kisses Mingyu, softly, lips closed. “Good,” he murmurs, when they separate, his face still mere inches from Mingyu’s. “Be here. Stay with me.”
“I will,” Mingyu promises, smiling, and kisses Jeonghan again. Jeonghan sinks into it, deeper and deeper. Steady and alive and in love.)