Work Text:
“Hey,” Minho calls, finally taking mercy on the seemingly distraught traveler a few seats down the opposite row, who can’t seem to decide whether to bring their luggage with them to the bathrooms they have been eyeing for twenty minutes or if they’re gonna risk it and leave it by the gate. “Yeah, you. Black bucket hat, white mask. I’ll watch your stuff. Go.”
The stranger blinks, turning around and staring at Minho with his feet slung up over his own suitcase and scrolling away on his phone, portable charger running hot on the empty seat beside him. Maybe they doubt Minho’s ability to keep their stuff safe. Maybe they think Minho will steal it and take off the second the owner is out of sight. Yeah, right.
As if Minho would have waited for two hours and… eighteen minutes, according to his Apple Watch, for some idiot to leave his stuff unattended to so Minho could steal it. He scoffs, even though the stranger haven’t said anything.
“Do you think I would be sitting here, wasting my two hours of prime stealing time, if those were my intentions?”
Minho can’t really see, of course, because the stranger is wearing a mask, just like Minho himself. But he wonders if the stranger is blushing, if they’re embarrassed by being called out twice. Oh, well. Minho has always had a habit of being too blunt for most other people, he thinks. It probably won’t be the last time.
Eventually, the stranger makes up their mind and bows hurriedly before dumping the jacket from their lap onto their seat and heading off towards the bathrooms. Minho isn’t sure concerning the stranger’s gender since those eyes were really soft and the brown hair escaping the bucket hat seemed even softer, not to mention the shy, kind of jittery behavior. But the person is taller than expected as they stand up and walk away, and Minho assumes the person is a guy. Around his age, if he were to guess. What he saw of the other’s face made it seem that way, at least.
Nothing happens to the luggage anyway - obviously - since both planes that are supposedly arriving to the adjacent gates are waiting out the storm surrounding Incheon tonight, and if they hadn’t already passed midnight Minho would’ve said ‘fuck it’ and called Changbin to come pick him up and catch another flight. But he can’t, because Changbin has a fucking baby at home and needs all the sleep he can get, and Minho wouldn’t get that many hours before the next flight to Hong Kong anyway, so. He’s stuck, just like the other unfortunate souls around him.
The stranger returns from the bathroom rather quickly, probably not trusting Minho all that much. He supposes he can’t blame them.
“Thank you,” the person says quietly, making sure to bow one more time before sitting back down those three or so steps away from Minho.
Minho is intrigued, simply because he’s so fucking bored that he doesn’t have many things to think about apart from this stranger. He can watch a movie, sure, or go through some webcomics, but… But people-watching is fun, and he’s a bit curious about this stranger. Especially since he’s still not completely sure about their gender. Does it matter? No, not really. Minho doesn’t discriminate. Does he wonder anyway? Yes. Yes, he does.
“Hey,” he says again after a minute or two of silence, where the stranger simply stares down at their own hands in their lap and Minho figures they can’t be much busier than he is. “I’m Minho, by the way. Might as well introduce myself if we’re gonna be here for a while. Who knows if you’ll have to run again later, right?”
“Hello, Minho-ssi,” the other replies politely, wide eyes unblinking as they look over in Minho’s direction. Their jacket is once again bundled together in their lap, and Minho wonders if it’s on purpose or not. “My name is Hyunjin. Thanks again. For watching my stuff. I don’t know what I’d… what I’d do if I lost it.”
An eyebrow lifts on Minho’s face on pure reflex. Oh?
“Really?” he says, not usually one to bite his tongue. “That valuable?”
“Not exactly,” the stranger replies, knotting the fabric inside their hands as their eyes dart over to their suitcase. “It’s just… I’m just bringing most of my stuff. Like… Like the stuff I own. That I didn’t throw away or donate or sell before leaving. And then my flight gets delayed by hours which is, you know, just my luck, but… But it’ll work out. Eventually.”
“You’re bringing everything you have on this flight?” Minho asks, double-checking because boy is his curiosity peaked now. “To…”
He has to check the screen again, looking where this stranger is going with everything they own and has.
“To Phuket? That’s in Thailand, right?”
“Yeah,” the stranger confirms, even nodding a little. Their hair bounces. Cute. “I’m an artist. And photographer. My most valuable stuff is in this suitcase, and the rest in the one already checked in and hopefully on the plane. Or getting there when I do, at least. I’ll be traveling for months, so it’s… Yeah. I’d like to keep all my stuff ‘cause I imagine it’s not the easiest task to replace anything along the way. Clothes and toiletries can be found anywhere, but I’ve chosen everything really carefully while packing my life up, so… Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”
“Not at all,” Minho replies genuinely, putting his phone aside to indicate that he’s interested in their conversation. He still can’t tell whether this person is a boy or a girl or simply beyond those labels, but their life interests Minho either way. Packing their whole life up to travel and then proceed to make a living out of their travels? Minho logically knows that people do that, but he’s never met one of them before. “I’ve always been curious. Is this your first time doing something like this?”
“Yes,” Hyunjin answers. That’s a… sort of gender-neutral name, right? “I know two people who do it, but they travel together. I don’t have anyone like that, so I finally decided to stop waiting for someone to show up and just go. People travel by themselves all the time. I’ll manage. I think. I hope. Otherwise, I’ll just go back. I figure I could just go back and stay with my parents if it doesn’t work out. Right?”
“Right,” Minho smiles, entertained by how easily Hyunjin’s spilling their story but also by how they look to Minho as if the two of them know each other, as if Minho possesses the ability to reassure them and answer their questions. Cute, his brain repeats. ‘Damn Minho and his ego’ is probably more like it. “That sounds like a back-up plan to me. Very brave of you, Hyunjin-ssi. I’ve only traveled alone through work, and something tells me that’s easier. I just need to show up at the airport and when I arrive I do the same things I do here in Seoul, and then I go back home after a week or so. I think that makes your life more fascinating than mine.”
This time, Minho is certain that Hyunjin blushes beneath the mask, wriggling and laughing under their breath to only further prove Minho’s point. Cute, cute, cute. The over-sized outfit over the seemingly thin frame doesn’t really lessen Minho’s impression of the other’s cuteness either. He supposes he should be grateful that more than half of Hyunjin’s face is totally covered.
“I doubt it,” Hyunjin argues lightly, looking into their wrung hands for a second and then back at Minho. Soft, soft, soft. “Do you travel a lot then, Minho-ssi? Would asking what you do be too much of me?”
“Nah,” Minho replies, leaning back in his seat as he kicks his feet for a second. “You can ask. I make choreographies for idols. Mostly here in town, obviously, but sometimes at places of their convenience and not mine. Sometimes for some TV show. This time for MAMA. I’m going in advance to check out the stage and make adjustments for two of the groups I’ve worked with.”
Hyunjin doesn’t reply at first, too busy staring at Minho with wide eyes and unmoving hands. Probably the first time they are unmoving, actually. Minho supposes surprise might kick even such habits. He doesn’t really have any himself, he thinks. It’s hard to say.
“Are you kidding right now?” Hyunjin finally says, voice unsure when they lean forward almost as if they didn’t hear correctly. “Did you say you’re going to MAMA to ‘check out the stage’? For the groups you’ve taught? Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Minho chuckles, sitting back up to reach into his backpack and grab his ID-card for one of the larger labels he works with. “Here you go.”
Their fingers brush when Minho offers the laminated paper to the person in front of him. It’s not like sparks go flying or anything, as if the world stopped spinning or the planets suddenly aligned in front of Minho’s eyes. It’s nothing like that. It’s just Minho’s calloused fingers brushing those of a painter. Just his thick skin meeting a body so finely shaped it could crack if Minho touched it the wrong way. He retracts his arm slowly, leaning both elbows on his thighs as he watches Hyunjin scan the card that was offered.
“Wow,” Hyunjin breathes, and Minho has to laugh again. Of course this person would be easily impressed, stroking Minho’s ego just right. Of course their chocolate eyes would flicker between Minho’s masked face and the unmasked one of his photo, putting their imagination to work. “Sorry, this is just… Amazing, actually. I wanted to be an idol so bad when I was younger. I was a trainee for over a year, actually, before I… Before I got hurt and couldn’t move like that any longer. Probably for the best, in hindsight, but it lingered. This is really cool, hyung. Thanks for showing me.”
Minho pauses. His birthdate is on the card which Hyunjin definitely took notice of, considering the ‘hyung’ that was added to his own name. Doesn’t that answer his question? Or does it?
“‘Hyung’?” he repeats, latching on immediately and making no move to retrieve his card from Hyunjin’s outstretched hand. They’re closer like this, just a foot or two between them, and Minho deeply approves of the fact that Hyunjin doesn’t back away from him. “You younger than me then, Hyunjin-ah?”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin confirms with a small nod, rotating the card between his fingers as he waits for Minho to take it back. “I was born in 2000. Is… is that okay?”
“That you’re born in 2000?”
“No,” Hyunjin giggles - giggles! - even though he - he? - must’ve been able to tell that Minho was playing fun, “that I said ‘hyung’! Was that okay?”
A smile plays on Minho’s lips as he nods, but Hyunjin probably can’t see it. For the better, maybe.
“Don't worry about it,” he assures the younger, finally retrieving his card from Hyunjin’s out-stretched hands and dumping it inside his bag once more. “I work with kids calling me ‘hyung-nim’ two hundred times a day and whose birth dates begin in the 2010’s. They’re teenagers. Can you believe that?”
“No,” Hyunjin laughs, but he doesn't lean back against the plastic backrest of his seat so Minho doesn't either. “That’s crazy, actually. One of my friends - who travels, I mentioned him - is just one year younger than me and I still consider him my baby. He tries to call me ‘Hyunjin-ah’ every now and then and I have to smack him across the head.”
“Somehow, I can't really picture you smacking someone’s head,” Minho teases lightly as Hyunjin’s shoulders shake with silent amusement. “Me? Oh, yeah, definitely. You? More of the pouty, playing-with-someone’s-feelings-to-get-your-way type. How wrong am I, 1-10?”
Hyunjin laughs.
“A solid 2.”
“Figured,” Minho plays along, inwardly acknowledging how charmed he is by this stranger who won’t let Minho’s eyes stray even for a second. “I like to watch people. Make assumptions, try to read them without actually having to interact. I don't usually share all my thoughts, though, believe it or not. Feel free to tell me if I overstep.”
“You haven’t,” Hyunjin tells him, flickering his eyes between Minho’s, “yet.”
Minho makes the attempt to let Hyunjin’s mouth run wild after that, assuming that the younger indicated that Minho very well could overstep if he kept going. He doesn't want to do that, so he listens to Hyunjin talk about a variety of cameras, about the difference between photographing landscape and scenery versus living subjects, about the places that are lined up after Phuket.
It’s interesting, is what Minho keeps coming back to. He’s interested, both in what Hyunjin is telling him and what isn't being said. Minho doesn't know a lot about Hyunjin’s topic of fascination, and he hasn't been to many of the locations that Hyunjin is planning on visiting, but maybe that helps in keeping his attention up?
Or maybe it’s irrelevant, on second thought, because Hyunjin’s lock screen is a tiny dog curled up next to the visible half of the younger’s face, and Hyunjin’s laugh is breathless and light and makes Minho want to hear it again. Maybe it’s irrelevant, because Hyunjin’s eyes are bright despite their color and wide despite their size, and Hyunjin’s body is angled towards Minho for every word they share, and Hyunjin’s hands fly all over the place in tangible excitement while describing things.
(Minho likes Hyunjin, he’s pretty sure. What he’s supposed to do with that knowledge is another question entirely. One he doesn't even know if he should be entertaining or not, considering their parted fates when the first plane inevitably arrives.)
“Hyung?” Hyunjin finally calls when Minho hasn’t immediately replied to whatever the younger just said and he must’ve missed. “Did your ears finally shut off? I don't blame them if they did. It’s late and my voice isn't… It’s a little weird, isn't it?”
“What?” Minho asks, feeling confusion build in his chest. “No, it’s not weird. Who told you that?”
“You’d be surprised,” is all Hyunjin says. Quietly.
“Well,” Minho decides, making up his mind, “I like your voice. I like how excited you are when you tell me things, even though I don't have a lot to give you in return to go on. I think your voice is cute. You roll your words somehow and it’s adorable. Your voice is cute. Just like you.”
Hyunjin’s eyes go wide as saucers as he processes Minho’s compliment. Minho’s stated fact, really. Hyunjin is cute. Anyone claiming differently is a damn liar, to be honest.
“Oh, my God,” Hyunjin whispers beneath his mask. “Hyung, did you just call me ‘cute’?”
“I did,” Minho confirms, choosing to take Hyunjin’s reaction as a positive enough one to…
To get even more personal, he supposes. Too personal for the setting, he does realize that, but… Maybe he’ll be forgiven considering Hyunjin will probably forget about him the minute the flight to Phuket arrives. Or, at the very least, when it lands. Maybe it’ll be okay. Maybe Hyunjin will be able to tell that Minho doesn't really mean anything bad at all, he just… He just wants to know the younger better. He just wants Hyunjin to know that he wants that. Should he ask?
He takes a breath and voices the inquiry on his mind, and prays that their chemistry won’t suffer any blows for it. He’s bringing it up to be respectful, not the opposite, but Minho supposes the only one who can tell him if he’s in the wrong or not is the pretty individual before him.
“Initially, I wasn’t sure if you’d say ‘hyung’ or ‘oppa’ there for a minute,” he admits after some deliberating, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem offended. Thankfully.
Minho exhales in relief.
Hyunjin’s eyes seem to soften further as he nods imperceptibly at Minho’s words. As if expecting such a thing, almost. Minho wouldn't know. He has no idea how many times Hyunjin has had this conversation, but it’s only Minho’s second.
“Or something else, maybe,” Minho rambles, not sure what to do now since it’s out there and Hyunjin doesn't immediately reply. “I don’t know. I’m not picky, so. Whatever’s okay with you.”
“Not picky then, clearly,” Hyunjin says with a breath of laughter beneath his mask. Light-hearted still, then. Minho doesn’t regret saying anything, but he’s glad for the younger’s reaction regardless. He’d never actually intend to offend, even if he inevitably does at times. “I usually go for ‘hyung’ since that’s what I grew up saying. I’ve played around with ‘oppa’, though, I won’t lie. What gave it away?”
“Nothing, really,” Minho says truthfully, grateful for their proximity that shouldn’t let too many surrounding travelers listen in on their conversation. Hyunjin seems fine talking about this with a mostly-stranger in this mostly-public setting, but one can never know when a prejudiced asshole will show up. “I just couldn’t tell at first. Your name, your voice, your look. Could’ve gone either way. Your way.”
Hyunjin doesn’t immediately reply, but he doesn’t do anything else either. Minho realizes that he refers to Hyunjin as ‘he’ now, inside his head, and hopes that’s okay. It took him some time getting used to when Yongbok started experimenting with pronouns, but Minho really tried to make Yongbok as comfortable as possible when it seemed they were already having a hard time. They use different pronouns to express themselves these days, depending on what’s more comfortable at the time, but the golden standard is always a neutral ‘they’, and that’s the standard for Yongbok in Minho’s head as well. He wonders if it’s the same for Hyunjin.
“Well,” Hyunjin says, soft as ever as he fiddles with his elegant fingers between them, “I’d say he/they is ‘my way’, then. ‘Oppa’ made everyone uncomfortable, myself included, so I dropped it pretty fast. I say ‘hyung’ and I don't mind being called that myself. I usually tell people around me on the days I prefer ‘they’ since there’s fewer of those, but… They’re definitely there.”
“Makes sense,” Minho says gently, a little surprised and kind of grateful that Hyunjin is sharing, even after Minho voiced his suspicions. Considering the society they live in… Well. “Is today one of those days?”
This time, Minho is certain that Hyunjin is smiling beneath his mask when he replies.
“No,” he says quietly, “but I appreciate you asking, Minho hyung.”
“It’s nothing,” Minho replies, because it isn't if he gets over himself and stops staring at what he thinks is the shape Hyunjin’s lips. “It’s your business. I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Hyunjin-ssi. That’s not why I asked.”
“No discomfort this time either,” the younger replies kindly, half-hidden face frozen in that same expression. “You don't have to apologize, Minho hyung. I’m glad we met. Waiting makes me jittery and restless, but you've distracted me for… almost three hours, according to your watch. And you said I was cute, so… So it’s okay if I say that I think you're really sweet, right?”
Minho wants to outright laugh, but he somehow restrains himself and his overwhelming urge to do just that. It’s mostly out of shock and not humor, at least he realizes that much. ‘Sweet’ definitely isn't one of the praises he’s sung most often.
“Yeah,” he croaks instead, trying to fake some coughing. “Yeah, that’s okay, Hyunjinnie, that’s… Thanks for saying that. I'm glad you think so.”
“I do,” Hyunjin says, a little bashful and a lot cute. So cute. “You're really nice. To talk to. And in general. You're really nice, hyung. And funny, too.”
“And sweet,” Minho adds, laughing slightly under his breath just a heartbeat before Hyunjin does the same. “Nice and funny and sweet, right? You’re making me sound like a whole catch here.”
Hyunjin’s reply sounds an awful lot like ‘maybe you are', but Minho doesn't ask him to repeat it. He doesn't want to be told differently, after all.
***
Minho doesn’t know whether to laugh or pass out when he arrives in Hong Kong - a whole six and a half hours later than expected - and starts his phone back up only to find a message from an unknown number right there waiting. He swipes it open as soon as he’s found a cab, and doesn’t even try to restrain the smile that spreads over his face as he zooms in on the photo.
It’s not like he’s in any way prepared, but Minho appreciates the sequence of selcas from Hyunjin anyway. From the first one (mask and bucket hat properly on) to the second one (a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as the mask hangs loosely from one ear) to the third one (no mask, no hat, just a smiling creature who’s even cuter than Minho dared to imagine while waiting at the gates of Incheon). He appreciates them, and he appreciates the memory Hyunjin must have on him if he remembered Minho’s phone number from his card ‘til the next time he picked his own phone up.
Which must’ve been when he stepped off the plane not that long ago, if Minho’s head is still somewhat functioning. The flight to Phuket is substantially longer than the one to Hong Kong, but Minho had to spend absolutely dragging minutes - hours, maybe, if he thinks really hard about it - alone by the gate as Hyunjin’s plane arrived and also left while Minho’s didn’t, because apparently it was experiencing technical difficulties even though the storm eased up. Of course.
He wondered if he should have asked for Hyunjin’s number, but finally decided against it. Would there be a point? They probably couldn’t meet for months, knowing Hyunjin’s plans. Was it really worth all the trouble of getting to know someone across different timezones and countries and lives, in general? Minho wasn’t sure, so he didn’t ask. Hyunjin didn’t ask either, and Minho figured that was that. He was glad for the younger’s company as they waited, because they could talk about dance - from Hyunjin’s trainee days - and pretty places in Seoul - from Minho’s semi-routinely walks - and just matched really well, in his possibly biased opinion.
Minho likes Hyunjin, he definitely does. If they’d met waiting for the subway, he would probably have asked the younger out. At least asked for his number. Or slipped his own, that’s also a possibility. Hyunjin seemed… as cautiously interested as Minho must have, right? He thought so, at least, but Minho feels like this confirmed it. Like Hyunjin sneakily memorizing his phone number and then properly showing his face (for the first time) once they’ve parted must… It must mean that Hyunjin’s a little interested in keeping contact, right? Why else would he do it?
‘Cute’ is what Minho sends back, swiping between the pictures as his driver takes him across the metropol that is Hong Kong. It’s pitch dark but the city is bright, and somehow Hyunjin’s smile on Minho’s phone is brighter still. The mole beneath his eye is barely visible due to the creases that appear when Hyunjin smiles like this - apparently - but Minho doesn’t mind either way. Happiness is a good look on Hyunjin.
hyung did you arrive?
yeah im headed to the hotel
might get an hour or two of sleep if im lucky
hows thailand?
hot
possibly too hot
i’m not sure i’ll make it back as anything other than a puddle at this rate
Minho laughs and his driver raises an eyebrow through the mirror, but he pays the man no mind. The person in Minho’s phone is far more interesting, as the feeling doesn’t seem to diminish despite the hours they’ve spent apart now, interaction decreasing into nothing during the course of their flights.
aww
do you need hyung to come scoop you up at the airport?
Minho holds his breath as the tiny bubbles let him know that Hyunjin is typing.
ask me again on
hang on
march 7th!
ask me again on march 7th
okay?
okay
[image attached]
you put me in your calendar <3
unnecessary really
as if hyung could forget you