Archive of Our Own

Seokmin pauses when he sees him. He hadn’t expected anyone to be here, a fallen tree trunk just on the edge of where the driveway meets the woods, hidden away from the frat party taking place a couple hundred feet away. Here, the music is quiet even if it’s pounding, and the smell of liquor and failed deodorant isn’t oppressing, the air free of so much sweat it felt as though it were about to rain inside. Instead it smells like smoke and wet pavement, an odd mix of home and long gone summer nights. Seokmin doesn’t say a word as he sits down. 

“Did Jihoon send you?” Seokmin snorts. Though it’s very probable, it isn’t a correct guess. Not tonight, at least. 

“No. We couldn’t convince him to come out tonight, something about how he was too old for frats. I can’t really blame him; I forgot how insane these things can be. Watched a freshman dump a skunky beer on his friend’s head when he realized they were losing pong.” Seungcheol puffs out a laugh, smoke curling from the cigarette cradled in his fingers. They’re shaking, Seokmin notes. The night is quiet around them, comforting after the chaos Seokmin had just lived through. He’s sure that he just narrowly avoided the drunken puking that most definitely is happening. 

Maybe Jihoon’s right; maybe they are too old for this. 

In the quiet of the night, Seokmin realizes that he hasn’t had much of a chance to catch up with Seungcheol. (It’s his own fault, really, his own anxiety and his own weak heart get the best of him easily. But hey, there’s no time like the present.) Without much of a second thought, Seokmin decides to fix that. 

“Are you still in the dorms?” Seungcheol hums, not even bothering to glance at Seokmin. He’s aggressively chewing gum, Seokmin realizes, teeth gnashing violently before he pauses and takes a long drag of his cigarette. 

“After last year’s Neighbor Shit,” he says it as if it were a proper noun, and Seokmin shudders at the thought. It definitely deserves the notoriety it gets, “I split an apartment with Shau. Though it might as well be with Jeonghan too, with how often he’s there.” Seokmin lets out a puff of air. Yeah, he’s been there. It’s not that Jeonghan is like a stereotypical clingy boyfriend, (if he even is Josh’s boyfriend, something that no one can be sure of,) annoying to a fault, but sometimes it’s impossible to shoo him. “You still in a dorm?” The tone is decently condescending, though Seokmin doesn't find it surprising. A lot of people talk to Seokmin like that for some reason or another, all unbeknownst to him. He’s just glad Jihoon isn’t here; Seungcheol would probably be bloody by now. Deserved, but not really the most favorable outcome. 

“I pull in enough with TA-ing that I have an apartment. It’s small, but Hansol and I make it work.” Seungcheol seems to pause, cigarette half-way to his mouth. 

“You live with Hansol?” Seokmin raises his eyebrows. 

“Why is that so surprising?” Seungcheol unsticks and visibly deflates, taking a long drag despite how his cigarette is practically a nub.

“I figured you’d live with your boyfriend,” Seungcheol mutters darkly, gnashing at his gum again. It’s Seokmin’s turn to pause, turning to Seungcheol with what he’s sure is a baffled expression.

“I have a boyfriend? That’s news to me. Pray tell, who is he?” Seokmin teases, smiling as he watches Seungcheol’s eyes widen and a blush flood his cheeks. He stammers for a few moments until he looks away, stamping out his cigarette on the ground next to him. Seokmin notices he puts the cherry in his pocket - leave it to Seungcheol to be so considerate that he won’t litter even as he slowly kills himself.

“You and Jihoon aren’t an item?” It’s Seokmin’s turn to blush. He knows it’s always been a bit obvious as to who he holds a torch to at any given time, but he hadn’t expected it to be so obvious that people thought they were actually dating. 

“Jihoon? Dating me? Yeah, no way dude.” Seungcheol gives him a long and hard look that Seokmin isn’t sure what to do with. It’s not like he insulted Jihoon or anything, so he’s not sure why Seungcheol is starting to get so high and mighty. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seokmin can only shrug, picking at his nail beds before he checks the time. He should leave soon if he wants to get home by a reasonable hour. His place is fully across campus and he’s not in the mood to spend money on an uber or a sober ride, not really. The path back is lit well enough anyways. 

“You really think someone like Jihoon would ever go for someone like me?” He shakes his head, making his way to his feet before he dusts off his pants. Patting his pockets to check that he has everything, Seokmin looks at Seungcheol once more, unsurprised to see his expression is pitying. “Don’t feel bad, Cheol, I’ve made my peace with it. That’s just how life is.” The quiet is stilted between them, and Seokmin can’t help but to wonder why it always ends up like this. 

“Are you going home?” Seokmin can tell that’s not what Seungcheol actually wants to ask. He appreciates the tact all the same. 

“Yeah. Sollie and I are on the opposite side of campus. I’ll be lucky to be there in, like, thirty minutes.” Seungcheol blinks at him a few times before he stands, following Seokmin’s lead and dusting off his pants.

“I can give you a ride.”

“I couldn’t-”

“Seok, don’t give Jihoon another reason to castrate me. Lemme drive you home.” Seokmin laughs before he shrugs. 

“Well, when you put it that way,” he teases, following Seungcheol as he leads him to where he’s parked. “You haven’t been drinking?” Seungcheol easily shakes his head. 

“Nah, on DD duty for Han and Shua. If they’re not up to leave yet I’ll just come back.” Seokmin smiles gently, shoving his hands into his pockets and kicking at the ground. 

“I can wait till they’re ready if you’re willing to drive me. I don’t wanna put you out of your way, y’know.” For some reason, Seungcheol seems to give him a soft look, his hand reaching towards Seokmin before he suddenly retracts it. 

He wonders why Seungcheol stopped. 

He sort of wishes he hadn’t.

“Just buy me a coffee next week and we can call it even.” Seokmin feels himself grin, unthinkingly pulling Seungcheol in for a quick hug and smacking at his back. When he pulls back, he easily assumes that Seungcheol’s blush is just a trick of the light. What else would have caused it, besides maybe the summer heat that still has its claws in tonight?

“Of course!” He almost chirps, half skipping beside Seungcheol as they make their way further and further from the house. “Just tell me what and when and where, Seungcheollie.” Seungcheol huffs in amusement as he shakes his head, gesturing to his black four door as he unlocks it. Seokmin happily climbs in, always a little surprised at how Seungcheol’s car doesn’t reek of smoke. It’s something that’s so contradicting that it always makes Seokmin think of Seungcheol and the duality of his entire being, not just his personality. 

“What’s your address?” Seungcheol asks after he’s been tapping away at his phone for a little while, dragging Seokmin back into the present. Seokmin just blinks at him until Seungcheol fondly rolls his eyes. “I know how you are with directions sober, Seokmin.” Seokmin flushes, relaying his address quietly. With only the soft sound of the radio between them, Seungcheol drives him home. 

In the meantime, Seokmin texts Jihoon.

Jihooooonie

Heading home
And before you ask i got a ride

like i care

Ouch jihoonie

who’s driving? you didn’t say anyone was gonna drive there
and ik you don’t have money for an uber or anything

Well funny story,,, it’s actually seungcheol

He’s not surprised that Jihoon stops responding, not really. Instead he simply updates the rest of his friends that he’s almost home and he’s safe, asking them to do the same when they inevitably leave. Unfortunately for Seokmin, a sudden thought strikes him like a bell. Unfortunately for Seungcheol, Seokmin’s always had a pretty shitty brain-to-mouth filter that’s made worse with even the smallest bit of liquor.

“Would you have preferred it?” He turns to see Seungcheol’s brows scrunch, the older man clearly confused by the sudden question. 

“What?” Yeah, Seokmin deserves that one. It’s too late to take it back now, he knows by the look Seungcheol shoots him at the next stop sign, so with a sigh Seokmin explains. 

“If Jihoon had sent me to check on you. Would you have preferred it?” Seungcheol’s expression twists before it settles into something eerily blank, leaving Seokmin none the wiser of the older man’s emotions. It’s deserved, he figures, turning to look out the window so that he doesn’t have to see Seungcheol’s blank face and so that his mind stops throwing terrible thoughts into his face. The reaction is definitely deserved.

The only sound that fills the car is a haunting cover of Sweater Weather. Seokmin doesn’t bother to change that.

—

The story began in middle school, or so Seokmin’s been told. Two boys, both shy despite their growing popularity, respected amongst their own scenes with the utmost regard. Always orbiting each other but never taking the plunge. 

They say that both boys carried torches for the other. 

Seokmin can only wonder who asked. 

But of course the story doesn’t end there. That would be too easy. Instead, despite what everyone assumed to be their kerosene doused love, the flame never seemed to die out, having the staying power of a thousand suns. Apparently the torches morphed into something stronger, dropped in a drought ridden forest and razing the whole thing during high school. 

They never asked each other out, somehow convinced that their affections weren’t returned. Seokmin again can only wonder who asked. 

People tend to regard the whole Jihoon-Seungcheol-Thing as a classic will they won’t they story, something old but familiar, a well worn coat treated with care. Everyone knows what it looks like, and everyone knows how it ends. 

But to Seokmin, it looks more like a tragedy. 

After all, there’s no space for a newcomer in something as well developed and known as a story like this. Despite how both of his hands curl around his own torches, burned by the heat of their respective flames, he knows that there’s a time and a place: never and nowhere. 

If only his heart could make peace with that. 

—

“He’s cute.” Seokmin hums along without bothering to look, focused on his laptop in front of him rather than the people watching that Seungkwan is doing. Apparently the library’s cafe is the perfect place to cultivate that, much to Seokmin’s (admittedly half hearted) annoyance. 

“Y’know, you could at least pretend to look.” Seokmin just shrugs at that. He could. He could also continue to ignore the younger. The second option is better in his opinion, but he’s not quite irritated  enough to not grace Seungkwan with the barest of answers.

“You could at least pretend to be doing research. Didn’t you say your project partner’s about to murder you at this rate?” Seungkwan rolls his eyes so dramatically that Seokmin can practically see it despite his attention remaining firmly on his own laptop. 

“It’s not my fault my professor had to stick me with the most elitist perfectionist asshole in the class.” Rude, but from what Seokmin’s been told, fitting. He’s still never been told a name, and there’s some sinking feeling that lives in his gut that he knows who Seungkwan’s group mate is. 

Seokmin doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to know. 

“Just try not to die,” he says offhandedly. “I don’t have the time to go to a funeral.” Seungkwan snorts but Seokmin ignores him once again, his focus fully on the report in front of him. It’s due in less than 24 hours and he still has pages to go. He’s sure that any random stranger who saw him would know he’s stressed beyond his years, but then again who isn’t. 

A heavy sigh leaves him before he can stop it, Seungkwan’s attention snapping to him in an instant. Any and all talk of cute guys or annoying partners is out the window, Seokmin’s sure. He confirms his thoughts with a glance at Seungkwan’s face, the new subject of discussion clearly becoming whatever the hell just prompted that sigh. 

Seokmin’s already tired. 

“What’s wrong?” Seokmin forces a smile and shakes his head, gesturing to his laptop halfheartedly, praying to any god above that his acting classes have paid off. 

“Just this report; it’s a bitch.” Seungkwan doesn’t look as if he believes him, which he shouldn’t. But Seokmin isn’t ready to fold just yet, his cards as tight as they can be to his chest, rolling his eyes before he looks back at his computer screen, ignoring how they instantly ache. “My professor wants like fifteen pages on how apparatus theory applies to Jaws.” Seungkwan blinks at him for a few moments before his eyebrows knit.

“Fifteen pages? Fifteen?” Seokmin nods, eyes burning as they return back to his laptop as if he had used acid for eye drops. “May God bless your soul, holy shit.” A simple hum is all he manages next, already wrapped in the world of sharks and hoity toity words. God, film theory sucks. (But, a dark part of his mind supplies, at least it doesn’t suck as much as the emotional turmoil he seems to live in. Film theory is nowhere near as messy as his poor heart. Nothing seems to be.)

The only thing that pulls him out of his zone is a gentle touch to his shoulder, the whole interaction scaring the shit out of him enough to send him jumping straight into the air as he gasps audibly. He doesn’t know how long he’s been slaving away at this fucking paper, but with a quick glance to the window he can tell that it must be late afternoon, meaning that it’s been hours since he’s resurfaced. Something about that flags as an issue, an event he presumably missed, but his attention is called away from the thought when he finally looks to see who touched him.

There, in all of his sheepish glory, is none other than Lee Jihoon. 

Without a thought, Seokmin is instantly checking to see if Seungkwan is still there, relief flooding through his chest when the younger is nowhere to be seen but his stuff is still scattered on their table. Taking a deep breath, Seokmin forces himself to calm down, looking at Jihoon with a small smile. 

“Hi Jihoonie.” Jihoon’s smile widens a touch more as his cheeks are stained red, his fingers squeezing Seokmin’s shoulder gently before he withdraws his hand.

Seokmin wishes he wouldn’t.

“Hi Seok. You okay?” The concern is so prominent that it’s almost palpable, Jihoon’s brows knitted slightly and eyes narrowed as he looks over Seokmin. He’s sure he’s a mess, hair disheveled from where he’s been running his fingers through it and eyes red and dry from staring at his screen for so long. It’s then that he finally notices the pain in his wrists and fingers from typing fervently, glancing down at his hands as he tries to flex his fingers a few times, wincing as he goes. Eventually he remembers that Jihoon is watching all of this and he instantly looks back up at him, smiling sheepishly as he’s sure he’s as red as a tomato.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This report is trying to kill me s’all.” Jihoon’s eyes soften considerably, the tension in his shoulders instantly disappearing as he offers Seokmin a pitying look. He can’t even feel annoyed or bad or whatever about the pity, far too focused on the natural slump of Jihoon’s shoulders. Had Jihoon been that worried about him? Reining himself in before he can have a heart attack, Seokmin just nods and smiles, sure that the expression is pained.

“Hey,” Jihoon starts, soft and almost shy, leaving Seokmin’s heart to tap dance in his chest. It’s quiet for a few moments, causing Seokmin to raise an eyebrow even as he’s sure his cheeks flare even redder. 

“Hi?” At the sound of his voice Jihoon seems to blink back into himself, apparently having zoned out as he stared at Seokmin. He rubs at the back of his neck as he drops his eyes to the floor, taking a few deep breaths before he meets Seokmin’s eyes once more. 

“Are you going out this weekend?” Seokmin finds his head tilting on its own accord as he thinks about it. Some of the underclassmen he knows are going to another frat but if he’s truly honest, Seokmin isn’t sure he’s ready to be dodging pushy girls and douchebags and literal puke everywhere he turns. Even if it’s tamer, he doubts he can even be convinced to go to the bar. He probably deserves a quiet weekend anyways after this report, so he shrugs as he looks back at Jihoon. 

“I don’t think I can handle that this week.” Jihoon hums softly, nodding his head as he rocks from heel to toe.

“Valid.” Seokmin wonders why the question came up, about to ask Jihoon if he wants to go out (an oddity, truly, but Seokmin also knows Jihoon won’t go out by himself), when Jihoon begins to speak again. “Would you wanna come over? We can watch a movie or something.” Jihoon’s blushing. Honest to God, he’s blushing. Seokmin doesn’t give himself a second to overthink before he smiles and nods, hoping that his toothy grin isn’t too telling when he aims it at Jihoon. 

“Yeah! I’d love to, yeah! That honestly sounds great.” And shut up, he thinks sourly before he’s fully focused on how Jihoon mirrors his grin right back. He’s about to say something when he looks down at his phone, eyebrows furrowing and a pout forming as he reads whatever’s on the screen. Seokmin knows what’s about to happen before it does, but he can’t even seem to really mind. 

“Sorry, but I gotta go meet my groupmates,” Jihoon apologizes, smiling at Seokmin once more but dimmer this time, as if he really is sorry that their conversation is being cut short. “I’ll, um, text you about this weekend later?” Easily, Seokmin nods, waving Jihoon off with a small and quick gesture. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, I should get back to work anyways. And if you forget, I will be blowing up your phone.” Jihoon theatrically rolls his eyes as he shakes his head, smiling at Seokmin once more as he starts to shuffle back. However, he doesn’t get even two steps away before he pauses, pulling a hand out of his hoodie pocket and pressing it into Seokmin’s palm, plastic crinkling between them. 

“Good luck with the report,” he says softly before he practically bolts away, his ears as red as can be as he retreats through the maze of tables of the cafe space and into the actual library. When Seokmin looks down at his hand, he can’t fight back the smile that overtakes his face. 

Jihoon slipped him a pack of fruit snacks. 

Jihoon only ever shares with Seungcheol, and that’s only one gummy per pack that he’s actively eating.

Jihoon gave him an entire pack of fruit snacks.

Jihoon cares.

The thought reinvigorates him more than he’d ever care to admit, and with more energy and straight chutzpah than he's had all week, Seokmin gets back to work on his report. 

“Report going that well?” Seokmin startles at Seungkwan’s voice, but he immediately forgives the younger when there’s a drink set down in front of. “Dirty chai. I figured you needed it.” Seokmin hopes that the gratitude he feels comes across clearly, even despite his hushed tones and admittedly dimming mood. 

“Thank you.” Seungkwan waves him off, his eyebrow still raised. The look alone tells Seokmin that he’s not getting out of this one without a real answer. “I mean, it’s going better.” Seungkwan narrows his eyes but Seokmin refuses to elaborate. He doesn’t have the time for the conversation that Seungkwan is clearly gunning for. Plus, he doesn’t want to risk bursting his own bubble.

“Fine. But you’re telling me about whatever this is when we’re both through hell season.” Seokmin’s not sure that they’ll both be out of the woods until after finals, and it’s with that as his comfort that he doesn’t bother to fight it. Hopefully he manages to douse the feelings in his chest long before then.

—

Though he’s not as bad a klutz as Mingyu, Seokmin really has his moments. Like now, running full force into Seungcheol as they’re both trying to leave their respective classes. He’d feel worse about it if Seungcheol was the one sprawled out, but with Seokmin landing on his ass in a crowd of students, he can’t help to feel anything but a bruise in his ego. 

“Oh shit, lemme-” Seungcheol grabs him by the biceps and hauls him back onto his feet, the whole thing making something in Seokmin’s brain grind to a halt. Well, he thinks, let’s simply not think about that, thank you very much.  

“Uh, thanks,” he manages, dusting himself off and ignoring how his tailbone is smarting. Seungcheol looks sheepish when he looks back at him, and Seokmin really has to pause and consider how to get his life in check. Maybe he should listen to The Secret and add it to his dreamboard: Be A Functioning Adult. 

“Sorry.” Seokmin shakes his head easily and offers Seungcheol a smile. 

“Nah, don’t be. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Seungcheol doesn’t fight him but he still looks terribly guilty, biting at his lip as his eyes refuse to meet Seokmin’s own, a blush growing on his cheeks. 

“Um, do you have a, no, um,” Seungcheol stammers, like actually stammers, rubbing the back of his neck as a blush blooms on his face. Seokmin finds himself both endeared and on edge - Seungcheol looking absolutely adorable is not helping him get over his stupid crush. Patiently Seokmin waits, hoping that allowing Seungcheol the space to gather his words is the best approach. Eventually Seungcheol heaves out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he finally meets Seokmin’s eyes.

“Do you have a gap right now?” Seokmin pauses for a moment, his head cocking to the side as he tries to recall his schedule. 

“It’s Tuesday?” Seungcheol hums in agreement and Seokmin can’t fight back a dopey smile. Of course he’s being transparent as hell, and at the rate he’s going the entire campus is bound to know that he’s absolutely head over heels for Choi Seungcheol. (But will they when he looks at one Lee Jihoon the same way? He hopes not.) “Nah, I’m done for the day. What’s up?” Seungcheol returns his smile, eyes shining even despite his cherry red cheeks. 

“You still owe me that coffee,” he teases and Seokmin feels his heart stutter. Oh. Right.

“Oh, um, you wanna grab something from like Dunks or whatever?” Seungcheol hums playfully, even despite the clear shyness in his features. 

“Sure, or we could go to that cafe that just opened?” Seokmin’s brain is both at a standstill and running a mile a minute. Is this-

Is Seungcheol inviting him on a date?

“Sure! Yeah, I mean, yeah!” One day Seokmin won’t put his foot in his mouth when he’s talking to Seungcheol. Today is not that day. But his fumbling makes Seungcheol smile even wider, his eyes crinkling with the force of it. 

“C’mon, the bus should be here in a few.” Seokmin nods easily, happily walking alongside Seungcheol like he’s Charlie and he just found his Golden Ticket. Besides, the small talk between them is easy, rising and falling like the tide. It makes him even more cheerful.

Seokmin doesn’t know why it’s always been so easy to talk to Seungcheol, just that it has been. Maybe it’s Seungcheol’s fiercely kind demeanour, or the way that he’s loyal to a T, or just how much he clearly cares for his friends. Seokmin doesn’t know, but he’s not sure it matters. All that really matters is that he has Seungcheol, and seemingly, Seungcheol has him.

It’s terrible for getting rid of his crush. 

They make it to the cafe in one piece, the wind a bit biting but all and all not terrible. Sure, Seokmin might be shivering, but at least the skies didn’t open up on them. (It felt like they did every time he tried to somewhat enjoy his life as a freshman, but that’s besides the point.) Seungcheol however deems this unacceptable, instantly stripping off his jacket and draping it around Seokmin. 

“Idiot, you know the wind around here is the worst,” Seungcheol chastises immediately, tugging the fabric around him and fussing as if he were a mother hen. “Why are you only in a sweater?” He sounds like he’s half pouting and Seokmin’s heart thuds.

“I checked the weather this morning and it wasn’t supposed to be that bad.” He knows he’s whining, but it earns him a slight shove and jostle from Seungcheol, an arm wrapping itself around his shoulders as Seungcheol gives him a noogie. 

“Dumbass, you know it’s always worse than the apps say.” Seokmin huffs just to keep up appearances, leaning into Seungcheol’s hold. He goes as far as to wrap his hands around Seungcheol’s arm and toss his head back, freezing when he realizes just how close that puts them, their faces, their lips.  

Fuck, this isn’t good for him.

The overzealous kiss that Seungcheol plants onto his cheek doesn’t help either. 

But damn does it feel so good.

—

It’s sort of dark and brooding as Seokmin walks to Jihoon’s apartment, but he soldiers on. He’s not sure what it would require to keep him from marching his way to the older man’s apartment, but it would have to be more than a dreary sky and a threat of rain. Seokmin can handle rain, he won’t melt. Get super sick? Of course. But what’s a relationship without a little bit of sacrifice?

Two girls giggle between each other and let him follow them into the building, stumbling over each other and stage whispering about how hot he is. Seokmin can only smile sheepishly, forcing his attention on his phone while the three of them wait for the elevator. Though they keep giggling and stage whispering about him, they thankfully don’t make a true move on him. He stills texts Jihoon a 911, previous experiences of unwanted attention calling for his acknowledgement in the back of his mind, and he feels something in his chest release when he sees the older man waiting for him outside of the elevator. Jihoon looks up as the doors open and Seokmin feels his heart stop.

It’s not like Jihoon’s dressed to impress, which Seokmin isn’t either. But Jihoon pulls off the whole casual look better than anyone Seokmin knows. (It might be because the other man lives in it, but he digresses.) He’s leaning against the wall with one foot propped up, drowning in an oversized flannel that he’s tossed on top of a black shirt and black joggers. And of course, slides to top it all off. His hair is fluffy too, ruffled everywhere but still somewhat in order almost as if he had been running his hands through it constantly and then rushed to try to haphazardly fix it.

Overall, he looks hopelessly soft and endearing, and Seokmin can’t stop the fond and frantic beating of his heart.

“You okay?” Seokmin nods once the doors shut behind him, letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. The sound seems to worry Jihoon even more, pushing off of the wall and shoving his phone into his pants, freeing both his hands to fuss over Seokmin like it’s only natural. They land on his shoulders eventually, Jihoon’s eyes searching when they finally meet eyes.

“You sure?” Seokmin nods once more. He’s sure that Jihoon’s picked up on the undercurrent of things brewing within him that extends far beyond the girls from the elevator. There’s been a lot of things that have been pressing on him recently, and he’s sure that they’re starting to worm their way through the cracks of his detailed facade. But he doesn’t want to focus on any of that, not when he has a night with Jihoon ahead of him. 

“Don’t worry about me.” Jihoon huffs, squeezing Seokmin’s shoulders and shaking him gently. 

“You make it so easy, Seokminnie. Of course I’m gonna worry.” Seokmin isn’t in control of himself, and instantly he’s wrapping himself around Jihoon’s smaller frame and holding him as tightly as he can. Jihoon lets out an oof but doesn’t protest the action, almost as if he knows how much Seokmin needs the hug. Seokmin’s too kind to allow it to last terrible long, pulling away and swiping at his eyes as nondescreetly as he can. Jihoon tuts softly, reaching up to wipe at an errant tear before he offers Seokmin a small smile.

“C’mon, we got movies to watch.” Seokmin can only hum in response, allowing Jihoon to grab hold of his wrist and lead him to the older man’s apartment. Once inside Seokmin kicks off his shoes, looking around at the familiar place with a soft smile. It’s not his first time over but he is always amazed at how much the space seems to ooze Jihoon despite its other inhabitant’s, well, eccentricities. Everyone’s always been a little puzzled at how Jihoon and Soonyoung have been best friends, but Seokmin’s heard it’s easier not to ask. Soonyoung tends to get all huffy about it and starts to cling and when Soonyoung gets clingy it seems to annoy Jihoon more than anything else. 

“Do you want any snacks?” Jihoon calls softly over his shoulder as he pads his way into the kitchen, and dotingly Seokmin follows.

“What do you have?” Jihoon hums softly, walking over to the pantry and opening the door, leaning against the door as he looks over its contents. Seokmin smiles as he leans against the doorframe, his eyes snagging on a bag of kettle corn. A random memory hits him then, one of him and Jihoon drunk and commiserating, homesick beyond their years. He’s sure that Jihoon only told him because of the circumstances, but the idea still sticks. 

“Do you have apple cider?” Jihoon blinks up at him, raising an eyebrow with a soft smile still ever present on his face. “And kettle corn?” Understanding blooms on Jihoon’s face along with a blush, his eyes dropping to the floor as he knocks his elbow into Seokmin. He always gets shy about these kinds of things, and Seokmin always finds it so endearing.

“Shut it,” he mumbles, plucking the bag from the shelf and moving to unearth the kettle from one of the cabinets. “Can you grab the cider packets? They’re up there.” Jihoon points to the cabinet above him before he starts filling the kettle, and suddenly Seokmin has a bad idea. But, he’s feeling brain dead and sappy, so. Sue him or whatever. Like he’s in an aughts romcom, Seokmin steps up behind Jihoon and reaches around him to open the cabinet that he was told too. He is still too shy and polite to do something like press into Jihoon, so instead he leaves a gap between them, small in nature but big enough to ease his anxious mind. Jihoon laughs at him but doesn’t comment, not even when Seokmin drapes himself across Jihoon’s back and shoulders with the box in hand. He simply covers Seokmin’s hands with his own and maneuvers them to the stove so that he can put the kettle on, a move oddly reminiscent of the one that Seokmin pulled on Seungcheol at the cafe. The thought has him blushing beyond words but not yet embarrassed enough to pull away.

“You good?” Jihoon asks gently. Seokmin’s sure that it’s meant to come out more like a teasing remark and not a genuine question, but the sincerity is easy for Seokmin to hear. It’s even easier for his heart to latch on to. 

“Yeah.” Jihoon makes a noise as if he doesn’t believe them. “I mean, at least I will be.” Jihoon gently bumps his head into Seokmin’s own, and Seokmin swears there’s a kiss pressed into his hair.

“Why don’t you deal with the popcorn?”

“And get outta your hair?” Seokmin teases, playfully shoving at Jihoon when he nods in agreement. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you be.” Faking pouting all the way, Seokmin pointedly grabs the kettle corn bag and rolls his eyes, not bothering with a bowl before he slinks off into the living room. There he finds a movie already cued, the sight of Tangled bringing a smile to his face, and blankets piled on the back of the couch. 

It’s clear that Jihoon thought everything out tenfold, that he really wanted this night to be almost perfect.

Seokmin can’t keep his heart from practically glowing.

He’s settling down as Jihoon comes out of the kitchen, two steaming mugs in his hands and a soft smile on his face. Seokmin rushes to get the coasters out quickly, practically preening when a warm hand cups the back of his neck as a form of thanks, his sincerity clear in the gesture. Though he knows it’s not always born out of a good thing, Jihoon’s clearly in a sort of clingy mood. Seokmin can’t say that he really minds, leaning into the soft touches whenever they’re gifted to him. They help to ease the ache in his heart easier than almost anything.

“You good?” Seokmin’s sure that his grin is wider than strictly necessary and his eyes are shining as he turns to nod at Jihoon, but he can’t help feeling anything but adoration when he turns and sees his own glee reflected back at him. 

“Yes.” And with an almost shy look, Jihoon turns back to the TV and starts the movie. 

It’s unintentional, or at least it is on Seokmin’s side, the way that they end up pressed against each other. The kettle corn ended up on Seokmin’s lap after his cider had warmed him from the inside out, and both of them sit picking at it as Mandy More sings on the screen. It’s only natural that Jihoon ends up pressed into his side so that he doesn’t have to reach so far. At least that’s what Seokmin keeps telling himself.

“Y’know,” Jihoon starts softly, a few paces shy of a whisper, “I don’t do this often.” Seokmin waits for him to continue but he doesn’t seem to plan on it, instead pointedly watching the television. Carefully Seokmin just hums, shifting a bit until Jihoon is resting more heavily against him. 

“Movie nights?” Jihoon shakes his head.

“No, this.” Jihoon gestures to the cider and the kettle corn in front of them. A soft noise leaves Seokmin as he snakes his arm around Jihoon’s back, giving him a little squeeze. Jihoon leans into the touch, so with pride on his side, Seokmin leaves his arm there, his thumb rubbing little circles into Jihoon’s side. 

“I thought you said you and your parents do this all the time.” They fall silent as Mother Knows Best plays, because you simply can’t speak through that song. It’s only after the final notes have played that Jihoon makes a little noise that has Seokmin preparing to go on the defense. 

“My parents aren’t at school dummy.” Something in him deflates at the words as something else sharpens at Jihoon’s tone. It’s an odd feeling, but Seokmin doesn’t bother to try and dissect it just yet. Especially not when Jihoon seems to have to bite back a sigh. “I just,” the sigh finally escapes him. “It makes me super homesick sometimes.” 

Oh.

Oh shit.

“Is this making you sad? Should we stop?” Adamantly, Jihoon shakes his head, shifting so that he’s even more on top of Seokmin. It’s as if he’s trying to keep Seokmin from moving, and said man feels his heart soften with the movement.

“No. It’s different with you.” Though the words are soft they still send Seokmin soaring. Nothing makes him really come down, not even when he had to leave their comfortable strictly unmentioned cuddle session to pee. Besides, when he gets back to the couch, it’s to find Jihoon looking adorably sleepy, his eyes half lidded as they watch him walk through the room.

“Are you tired?” Seokmin asks softly. Jihoon goes to nod before a stray crack of thunder startles them both. Seokmin walks over to the window and peaks outside, flinching slightly when Jihoon saddles up next to him. 

“Oh shit.” Seokmin can only agree.

“I didn’t realize it was gonna rain,” Seokmin half whines, Jihoon looking at him with an expression of disbelief immediately.

“That’s not rain, that’s a deluge.” And yeah, okay, Jihoon’s probably right in that. 

If this were a movie or a production of some sort, Seokmin would be certain that Jihoon set this whole thing up. With how he's been acting tonight, or even in the weeks past, Seokmin wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to conjure a storm to trap them there and force them to hang out for longer. However it’s the thought of being trapped that has Seokmin groaning immediately; he made a rookie mistake. 

“I didn’t bring a rain coat.” Jihoon raises an eyebrow immediately. 

“Did you not see how foreboding the sky was?” Seokmin can only shrug. 

“I just figured it was gloomy. A normal fall coat is fine in the gloom.” He’s sure that he’s whining, but it’s not like he’s simply making this up. Besides, it’s Seungcheol’s coat that he’s been wearing. How is he supposed to give that up just on the chance of rain?

“Cheol was right. You really do need to start checking the weather app.” Seokmin’s heart stops immediately. He’s not sure what his face looks like, but based on Jihoon’s well worn sigh, he assumes it to be confused. “He told me you didn’t have a coat the other day when the wind was so wicked I thought my eyes were gonna blow out.” Seokmin half has to force an embarrassed laugh in a last ditch effort to hide the emotions brewing in his chest. 

There’s hope growing there, warm and sunshiny despite the dreary weather. It’s clear how fond Jihoon seems to be. The tone of his voice, the softness in his eyes, the blush staining his cheeks. But, it’s not only how fond Jihoon seems to be. No, because if he and Seungcheol are talking about him, worrying about him, God does it make him think that maybe there is a chance to get what he wants. Maybe there is something more than just his friends being his friends. Maybe he really can get his fairytale ending.

“C’mon,” Jihoon says softly as if he’s too afraid to break the atmosphere between them, “let’s finish this movie.” Fingers curl around where Seokmin’s wrist meets his hand, one step closer to holding his hand, and gently Jihoon leads them back to the couch. Seokmin sits first as Jihoon seems to pause, clearly lost in his head. 

“You good?”

“Stay here.” Seokmin feels his brows furrow but he listens all the same, watching Jihoon practically scamper to his before there’s some rustling. Eventually he reappears with a plastic tin in his hand, clear plastic showing the orange pieces inside. It’s with a start that Seokmin realizes that they’re orange slices, which are known to be his favorite candy. 

His heart swells so much he’s afraid it’ll burst. 

Jihoon opens the tub and places it on Seokmin’s lap as he flops half on top of him, offering a lazy grin as he looks back up at Seokmin. 

“Cool if I start the movie again?” Seokmin responds with an easy smile and a nod, getting one in return before they pick up where they left off. And if they fall asleep on each other while Turning Red plays in the background, well, no one else needs to know. They especially don’t need to know just how warm Seokmin’s insides feel, not at all, even though he’s sure it’s easy to guess. For now, he’s just happy with how it is. 

—

“What’s got you so happy?” Seokmin’s head snaps up, scared by the sudden voice before he deflates. 

“Asshole.” Mingyu grins in response. He’s always found it funny when he can get Seokmin to jump. 

“But you love me.”

“Unfortunately.” Mingyu just hums, slumping down into the chair next to him with a knowing grin on his face. Clearly, he’s not going to let this go.

“No but seriously, what’s got you so happy?” Seokmin finds himself looking around the lecture hall, the rest of the students either too far away to hear them or totally enraptured in their own conversations and what has to be Minecraft — you’ve got to love massive lecture halls. With a defeated sigh, Seokmin keeps his eyes on his notebook where he keeps scribbling in the corners.

“Um, well.” He pauses as he tries to collect his words, Mingyu kind enough not to press him on it. “Y’know how I was crushing pretty hard?” Seokmin’s purposeful about his lack of descriptions; it could be a woman he’s talking about, and it’s probably only one. It’s the armour he hides himself in. Either way Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice the ambiguity. 

“Yeah?” The hope in Mingyu’s voice and wide eyes are enough to ease the aching in his chest a touch. This is Mingyu, this is his best friend. If he can’t tell Mingyu, who can he tell?

“I think it’s reciprocated.” Mingyu whoops. Literally cheers, in the middle of their lecture hall. Seokmin figures he deserves to be smacked for it. Bastard doesn’t even look like he’s embarrassed about it, before or after Seokmin starts (lightheartedly (maybe)) beating him. 

“Ah, this is so exciting,” Mingyu gushes. “We should celebrate.” Seokmin just shrugs, watching their professor come in with a huff.

“Nah, I’m just happy that things seem to be working out. I don’t really need anything else.” Their professor starts to settle everyone down, yelling something about homework or questions, but it doesn’t dislodge Mingyu’s grin.

“We’re gonna celebrate,” he whispers again, and even as they all fall silent and class starts, Seokmin knows there’s no getting out of this. But still, there are worse things. Even a promise of Mingyu’s drunken ass hanging off him does nothing to dull the warm feeling in his chest. He’s not sure there’s any coming down from this.

—

Unfortunately, Seokmin forgot one little thing:
What goes up must always come crashing down.

—

Seokmin and Seungkwan are at the library cafe once more, with Seokmin “working” on a paper. He’s really just rewatching a youtube video with only a headphone in so that he will be able to hear Seungkwan’s exasperated rant. Seungkwan needs the venting session anyways, anyone who’s ever met him could probably tell that. The story has layers and complications and messiness galore, and Seokmin finds himself more than happy to be the soundboard this time.

“And then this motherfucker has the audacity to laugh-” Seungkwan cuts himself off, instantly calling Seokmin’s admittedly flighty attention to him. (Listen, the best joke of the video just played. Even Seungkwan understands those kinds of distractions.)

“What?” Seungkwan doesn’t bother to respond, his eyebrows furrowing as he leans closer to whatever he’s staring at, clearly a subconscious reaction. Confused and baffled, Seokmin follows his gaze.

Instantly he wishes he hadn’t.

There, on the other side of the cafe, are Jihoon and Seungcheol. Usually it’s something to make his heart go in double time, but this time, this time it freezes in his chest. He feels like he’s dying. No. He feels like he’s already dead. 

Jihoon and Seungcheol are laughing with each other, too far away for Seokmin to actually hear them, but the sounds play delicately throughout his mind, a song that he loves now feeling like an axe to the chest. Their hands have found each other as they bump into each other playfully. The smiles are intimate, and so is the kiss they share.

Right.

Well.

Seokmin feels his heart shatter. The gentle kiss to Jihoon’s temple seals the deal. The shards of his heart begin to burn, kerosene doused glass cracking in the heat. It's only a matter of time until there's nothing left to break.

“Seok? You okay?” Seokmin’s head snaps back towards Seungkwan and back into the present, the sinking feeling in his chest trying to overcome him. He doesn’t know what his face is doing. He doesn’t want to know.

“Yeah,” he has to swallow around the lump in his throat after his voice comes out squeaky. “Yeah, fine.” Seungkwan doesn’t believe him, but somehow he keeps himself in check. Seokmin appreciates it beyond measure. 

“Do you wanna get out of here? I know you’re not really doing anything and I can keep bitching in my own room. I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” Seokmin loves his friends, he really does. Without a care for his video or work Seokmin shuts his laptop with shaking hands, somehow managing to nod at Seungkwan.

“That’s good.” Seungkwan moves to pack up, his eyes straying to where Jihoon and Seungcheol were a few moments before. Seokmin half sees him wave his hand in a clear gesture of no, and he doesn’t bother to dissect what’s probably happening. The actions alone are enough to cue him in as to what’s going on that he’s not missing anything. Clearly Seungcheol and Jihoon have noticed them. Clearly Seungkwan is keeping them away. Though it makes his heart hurt as if there’s a serrated knife twisting in it, he appreciates Seungkwan’s help here. Lord only knows what would happen if he tries to talk to either of them right now.

“C’mon Seok,” Seungkwan says softly and sort of sadly, his hand extended, “let’s go.” Ever grateful for the support, Seokmin fits his hand in Seungkwan’s own, allowing the younger man to tug him along. He’s mindless at this point, too shocked and sad to do much of anything, especially not feel the pairs of eyes following their retreat. 

Breaking your heart is terrible enough. But breaking it twice, and in one simple moment?

Seokmin’s not sure if he’ll survive.

—

“Hey, I’m glad I found you.” Seokmin feels a pit grow in his stomach at the sound of the voice, and he only reaffirms his anxieties when he looks up to see Soonyoung’s wavy brown hair and worried features. He’s in a pink sweater today, one with white and brown accents that make Seokmin think of Neapolitan ice cream, and he has makeup on too. Idly, Seokmin wonders who he’s off to impress.

“Hey.” Soonyoung looks around a few times at the mostly empty lounge, after all no one really knows about this place with it being tucked away on the top floor of the chem building, before he slides into the seat across from Seokmin. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have, but Seokmin has a feeling there’s no getting out of it. At least the other students seem to be none the wiser, one girl having a heavy set of headphones over her ears and the other two in the far corner whisper bickering about which one of their creepy professors is worse.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Seokmin closes his eyes and sighs heavily, looking back at Soonyoung with what he’s sure is an expression a touch too sad to be truly deadpan.

“I mean, if you found me here, I guess you’ve earned the right.” Soonyoung forces a smile as he nods, moving to run his hands through hair before he freezes, redirecting to rub at his neck instead. Seokmin was right in his assumption that he’s got someone to impress. He can only wonder who.

“Are you okay?” Seokmin pauses. That is not what he expected. He can only blink at Soonyoung until the older man finally decides to continue on. “Look, I dunno what happened between you and Ji, and maybe Cheol? I’m guessing he’s involved too. But whatever,” Soonyoung scrunches his face and waves his hands back and forth frantically, clearly trying to clear the air. “I just wanted to ask if you were okay.” Soonyoung is being terribly sincere, and Soonyoung feels something like a soft blanket gather up the remains of his tattered, bleeding heart. If he can’t be honest with such a clearly loving gesture, Seokmin’s not sure when he can be. 

“Sorta, I guess.” Soonyoung hums softly, waiting patiently for words that Seokmin isn’t sure he has. 

“Is there anything I can do? I know how much this stuff can hurt.” Seokmin sort of wonders what Soonyoung means, the messiness with friends or his broken heart, but he doesn’t hate himself enough to ask.

“I should be fine in a while.” Once more Soonyoung hums, reaching out to pat Seokmin’s hand as he smiles softly.

“Whatever it is, whatever you need to know or wanna ask, don’t feel like you can’t come to me.” A smile, an actual real smile, grows on Seokmin’s lips. 

“Thanks Soonyoung.”

“Of course, Seokkie.” Soonyoung stands then, smiling once more before he moves to take his leave. He does swoop in and press a soft kiss to the top of Seokmin’s head, patting his head a few times before he walks over to the girl with the headphones. Suddenly, it makes a lot more sense as to how he even found Seokmin here.

Overwhelmed with both a gratefulness for his other friends and a sadness due to how it all turned out, Seokmin pulls out his journal and goes to town. It’s the only thing he has that’s truly impartial to the situation. Besides, he’d be lying if he said that writing isn’t one of the best ways for him to process his emotions. 

When he meets eyes with Soonyoung a little while later, that same soft feeling makes its home in his chest. It’s nice for something so light to make its home there for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s nice to finally have something sweeping up the shards of his heart and clearing away the cobwebs.

It’s nice to know how many people care. 

—

Of course, Seokmin cannot escape from Seungcheol and Jihoon for forever. Especially not when he and Seungcheol have classes near each other. Like the Universe is in on the joke, Seokmin finds himself running square into the chest of someone as he tries to scurry away from his professor and some student arguing loudly, looking up to find that the chest belongs to none other than Seungcheol.

Well, fuck.

“Shit, Seok, lemme help you up.” The nickname makes the pain in his heart return with a vengeance, reminding of everything he thought he could have before it all came tumbling down. Still, Seungcheol manages to get him to his feet and begins to start fretting immediately, driving a stake into Seokmin’s poor wounded heart. 

“I’m fine,” he chokes out, talking a step back from Seungcheol to try and get himself some distance, some space. Seungcheol’s expression breaks for a moment, which makes Seokmin freeze, before he seems to come back into himself.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked if you needed help.” Seokmin has to close his eyes and take a few measured breaths to keep himself in check. It wasn’t so long ago that Seungcheol didn’t need to ask. It wasn’t so long ago that Seokmin would’ve let Seungcheol touch him without a question. 

But times change. Seokmin can only pray that his battered heart can get it together enough so that he can be friends with his friends once more. He misses them, even if seeing them feels like rubbing salt in his wounds.

“Cheolie?” Seokmin’s heart sinks even further. This cannot be happening. Seungcheol turns to look at Jihoon, his expression a bit broken-hearted. A soft gasp sounds from his right, and Seokmin’s sure that Jihoon’s finally seen him. His heart hurts even worse as Jihoon moves into his field of vision before he takes a few steps towards Seokmin. But Jihoon’s expression breaks when he takes a step back for every step that Jihoon takes forward.

“Seok-” Seokmin can only shake his head.

“Please don’t.” The two of them exchange pained expressions, but Seokmin can’t handle it. He can’t handle the thought of what those looks entail. 

Hope has burned him before. Hope will only burn him again.

“Seok, listen-” Seungcheol tries this time, but again Seokmin shakes his head.

“Every time I see you,” he says softly, looking between the duo as he white knuckles his backpack, “I feel so alone.” Both of their expressions fall even further. “Just leave me be. Please.” And when he turns to leave, neither of them follow him out.

He’s not sure why that seems to make everything hurt more.

—

“C’mon Seok, I made food.” Mingyu’s been taking care of him since his unexpected run in with Jihoon and Seungcheol the other day. It’s definitely taken its toll on him, ruining his focus in class and his ability to do decent work or even hold a decent conversation. If he’s honest, Mingyu is the only reason he has yet to wither away. 

Wordlessly Seokmin pries himself off of his bed, wincing at the aching in his muscles and the feeling of grime overwhelming him. He definitely needs to shower after he finally manages to get some food in him. But with Mingyu in his apartment, he’s not really worried about it. Mingyu’s a good friend; he’d never let someone he loved suffer aimlessly, not if he could help it. He hasn’t tried to pry yet either. Seokmin doesn’t even have the words to describe how grateful he is for that. 

The food is good, but more importantly it’s warm and filling, something that’s been absent in his life the past few days. He relays his praise to Mingyu just as well, finding himself biting back a smile as Mingyu’s ears go red. The poor guy has always been shyer than anyone else Seokmin’s met, which is to say far too shy for his own good. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Even if Seokmin expected to be asked at one point or another, he’s still not really in the mood to field any questions about what has him so down. He can’t blame Mingyu for asking though, so instead he manages to shake his head. Just barely, but he still manages. 

“Not really.” Mingyu lets it die there, only hugging Seokmin the next time the older man moves to stand. It’s a wonderful feeling, Seokmin easily admits. Mingyu gives some of the best hugs in the world. After they break apart Seokmin manages a half smile, looking back at the mess in the kitchen and biting back a cringe. 

“Do you want help with the dishes?”

“Nah,” Mingyu says easily, going as far as to ruffle Seokmin’s hair before his nose crinkles in disgust. “Go shower, I’ve got this.” Beyond grateful, Seokmin tugs Mingyu into one last hug before he does as he’s told. He really does need a shower.

The relief is almost instantaneous, Seokmin discovers the moment he steps into the shower. The hot water does wonders to help ease the ache in his muscles and being clean really does make him feel more like himself. He even goes as far as to use a hair mask in a real treat yourself moment, practically melting at the feeling of his fingernails against his scalp. 

Maybe all he needed to feel better was a day to himself and a little help from Mingyu. He can’t deny the effort that Mingyu’s definitely put in, Seokmin even has clean sheets. Mingyu did his laundry. Mingyu cleaned his apartment. Clearly, Mingyu deserves only the best of things. 

It’s with these loving and almost glowing thoughts that Seokmin leaves the bathroom, ready to collapse on top of Mingyu and stay there until he feels okay again. 

But Mingyu isn’t in the living room, oddly enough, and Vernon isn’t home. So unless Mingyu is off snooping in Vernon’s things, he has to be in Seokmin’s room. It’s not as odd as it is just unexpected, Seokmin had thought he declared the room clean a while ago, but he’s still not worried as he walks through his apartment.

Except, despite all the goodness in his heart and in his deeds, Mingyu apparently can’t handle not knowing what’s wrong.

Seokmin freezes the second he walks into his bedroom. Like a deer caught in headlights, Mingyu’s head snaps towards him, his eyes wide and his body frozen. Disbelieving, Seokmin scans the sight once more, dread filling his chest and sinking his heart. 

Mingyu has his journal open in his lap. 

Mingyu knows.

Oh, god, Mingyu knows.

Seokmin doesn’t even think. He just bolts from his apartment, barely managing to shove on shoes before he’s off on the street, running wherever his legs will take him. He can only run. Run until his breath is long gone and his muscles are on fire. Run until the neighborhoods morph into something just left of familiar. Run until his legs give out.

The asphalt leaves his knees and hands scuffed up and burning, the telltale feeling of little rocks buried in his wounds making him sob even harder. Which is sort of funny: he hadn’t even realized he was crying. 

The rain is bruising as it comes down in sheets and the wind keeps howling, but Seokmin can really only focus on the pain in his chest. There’s a sinking feeling that envelopes him, to make it worse. But there’s really only one thought in his mind, and it’s solely how fucked he is. The second thought that hits him is it’s wicked fucking cold. 

Shit.

T-shirts and shorts aren’t meant for fifty degree highs, especially not a raw and raining fifty degree night. Seokmin can’t even drag himself off the ground before sobs overtake him, leaving him trembling even harder on a random dark sidewalk. 

Everything hurts, but his heart is the worst. He’s not sure how many more beatings the poor thing can take.

Eventually Seokmin manages to make it to his shaky legs, stumbling down the streets. He’s lost, beyond confused, and he can’t stop crying. It’s all terrible. His chest aches at the thought of what’s become of him, of what Mingyu knows. But he starts to walk in the direction that he thinks is home, his burning eyes glued to the ground even if they are unseeing. 

Fuck, he doesn’t even have his phone.

His despair only takes a reprieve when he slams into someone else. He ends up on his ass, his stinging hands now burning and surely with pebbles fully ingrained in his flesh. Seokmin can’t even bring himself to look at who crashed into him, his eyes shut as he tries to steady his breathing and hide his tears. It’s much easier said than done.

“Hey,” a soft voice says, one that’s eerily familiar. Seokmin prays it’s not who he’s thinking of. “Are you okay?” He refuses to look. It cannot be him. It can’t be. “Seokmin?” A gentle hand falls on his shoulder before the man in front of him spits out a string of curses. 

“Seok, can you hear me?” After a thick and almost tortured breath, Seokmin nods. “Do you think you can stand? We gotta get you outta this storm.” Seokmin feels numb to the rain pounding sheets into his back. It’s probably a sure sign that he should get somewhere warm sooner rather than later, save himself from the bruising force of the wind and rain against his back. He’s not sure how much he actually cares. 

“Yeah,” he croaks, and in an instant Jihoon is helping him to his wobbly feet, cursing all the way. 

“There’s an awning we can duck under over there. And then I’m gonna call Cheol to come get us, okay?” Seokmin goes to shake his head but Jihoon doesn’t let him, a burning hand on his cheek and wiping away his tears. “You don’t have to tell us what’s wrong, okay? We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. We just need to get you warmer, Seokkie. You’re gonna get sick at this rate.” Seokmin can’t argue with that one, not at all really, so he lets Jihoon lead him to the sparsest bit of cover he’s ever hidden under, but it’s the best they can manage. Jihoon even bullies him into curling around the older man, an arm wrapped around Seokmin’s shaking shoulders as he calls Seungcheol. He recites their location and asks him to hurry up, still fussing over Seokmin as he talks. Once he’s hung up, it’s a different story. 

“Here,” Jihoon says almost frantically, practically ripping his jacket off before he’s wrapping it around Seokmin’s ever trembling frame. “This’ll at least help.” Seokmin goes to say thanks before he’s cut off by Jihoon, not words but actions, a hand behind his neck leading him to tuck his nose into Jihoon’s warm and dry neck. A sob escapes him before he can think of doing anything about it, and in an instant Jihoon is running his fingers through Seokmin’s hair. The feeling of Jihoon’s nails on his scalp are even better than his own, and despite choking on a sob, Seokmin can’t help but to lean into the touch.

“There we go, Seokminnie, there we go.” 

He already knows that his heart won’t be able to survive the night. Seokmin can’t help but to relish in it all anyways. 

Seungcheol pulls up a few minutes later, looking beyond worried when Seokmin finally spies him through the window. Carefully, as if he were something precious, Jihoon guides Seokmin into the front seat and blasts the heat, helping him to buckle his seatbelt and get comfortable without a care that he’s getting fully drenched. Even as Seokmin and Seungcheol both try to express their concern Jihoon easily ignores them, too busy fussing over Seokmin to care about his own well being. It’s only when he deems Seokmin good enough (and his teeth start to chatter) that Jihoon climbs into the back seat. 

Seungcheol turns the heat on high. Jihoon passes him a blanket. Seokmin can’t fight back his tears.

“Oh, baby.” It’s Seungcheol’s gentle voice that whispers the words, but he doesn’t reach out to touch Seokmin. He does give the blanket one more tug to help cover more of Seokmin’s shaking body, but Seokmin can tell he doesn’t dare do more in case it isn’t wanted. 

This time, an acoustic version of Hollow serves as the score to their silent drive. Seokmin still can’t stop his tears. 

They find their way into Seungcheol’s apartment, all of them worse for wear thanks to the worsening storm outside. Even if it sort of feels like torture, Seokmin’s glad he ran into Jihoon when he did; thunder and lightning have joined in on the chaos of the night. 

At least he’s safe. At least he’s okay. 

“Lemme get you both towels,” Seungcheol says softly, immediately disappearing further into the apartment and leaving Seokmim and Jihoon to shiver in the entry and soak the floor. They don’t bother to say anything, but slowly Jihoon begins to fuss over him once more. 

“You really scared me,” Jihoon eventually whispers, and Seokmin feels another crack decorate his broken heart. He goes to apologize but Jihoon shakes his head, a hand reaching up to carefully brush away a few more tears from Seokmin’s cheeks. 

“Don’t apologize. Just, tell me what happened if you really want to. Otherwise, can you just let us take care of you?” Seokmin feels his breath rattle in his lungs, but he can’t say that he isn’t relieved. He knows Jihoon’s said it before, but reaffirming that he doesn’t have to spill his guts definitely helps to ease the pain in his chest even if it won’t dry his tears. At this point he’s sure that nothing can. 

“Yeah.” You would think his tiny answer was the promise of the moon with the way that Jihoon’s eyes begin to shine. 

“Yeah?” Seokmin manages a shaky nod before the sound of footsteps can be heard, both of them turning to watch Seungcheol approach. He and Jihoon must silently be communicating based on how Seungcheol’s expression takes on a hopeful edge, even as he tosses a towel at Jihoon’s face. The younger man splutters and curses and Seokmin can’t fight back a little smile, and when he turns to meet Seungcheol’s eyes it’s to see them shining the same way that Jihoon’s were. 

“Come in, come in,” Seungcheol urges, clearly not caring about the water they’re dripping onto his floor, “lemme grab you both some dry clothes. You’re gonna freeze otherwise.” Jihoon grumbles about it but Seungcheol ignores him, disappearing off into his bedroom for a few moments before he’s back with a bundle of clothes in his hand. Once more Seungcheol haphazardly throws things at Jihoon before he gently hands stuff to Seokmin, the action earning him a huff before Jihoon stalks off to Jeonghan’s room, dripping water as he goes.

“You can change in mine or the bathroom, whatever you want.” Seokmin’s next breath shakes even as he nods, slowly making his way to Seungcheol’s bathroom. His heart is still thudding painfully in his chest. Honestly, he’s not sure if it will ever be able to recover from this.

But he’s safe. He’s okay. He’s warm. 

It takes him a while to get himself changed, having to quite literally peel off his clothes before he can even towel off. But Seungcheol’s sweatpants and sweatshirt smell like the older man in such a way that Seokmin feels his heart soften and warm, some of the cracks in his heart being covered by this illusion of being held. He buries his nose into the sweatshirt for a few more moments, holding the fabric up to his eyes as he continues to cry. God he’s a wreck.

A gentle knock startles him out of his thoughts, Seungcheol’s easy voice following after. 

“You okay in there?” Carefully, Seokmin takes a shaky breath before he hums, finally opening the door. Seungcheol looks a little heartbroken even as he smiles, his eyes catching on the pile of sopping wet clothes on the floor. “Do you want me to toss those in the dryer?” Seokmin can only nod, forcing a smile when Seungcheol immediately moves to gather them. 

“I’ll go put these in the wash. Jihoon’s in the living room.” Seungcheol leaves him be, and gathering all of his strength, Seokmin makes his way into the living room. There he does find Jihoon, the older man scrubbing his hair violently with a towel until he spies Seokmin and freezes. 

“Hey,” he starts softly, moving the towel off of his head to around his neck as he manages a smile, “how’re you feeling?” Seokmin shrugs, curling up into a ball in the corner of the couch. Immediately a blanket is passed to him, Jihoon’s expression remaining warm and open as he moves slowly back into his own space. They remain quiet for a little while, exhaustion settling in Seokmin’s bones like an old friend coming home, until Seungcheol reappears with two steaming mugs in his hands. He pauses in front of Seokmin sporting a boyish grin, and Seokmin feels his heart melt. Maybe, just maybe, he can pretend this is real tonight. Lord knows Seokmin deserves it.

“Cocoa or cider?” Seokmin blinks up at him, his brain taking a few moments to process the words. Eventually Seokmin reaches out with shaky hands towards the pink mug with strawberries painted on it. He doesn’t care what’s in the mug, not really, more so just caring about how much softer he feels looking at it. Seungcheol’s still smiling when Seokmin checks. That makes him feel warm too. 

Seungcheol is careful not to spill anything on Seokmin as he passes him his mug, practically huffing out a sigh of relief once the mug has made it into Seokmin’s hands and is cradled against his chest. His now free hand seems to twitch for a few precious moments before Seungcheol seemingly commits to what he wants to do, his fingers gently carding through Seokmin’s rain soaked bangs. The way that his eyebrows knit makes him look even more endearing, especially as his eyes widen.

“Do you wanna dry your hair more? It’s probably making you colder.” Seokmin just curls tighter around his mug. He doesn’t really want to have to move, and the headache that’s beginning to pulse underneath his temples isn’t making the idea of a towel or a hair dryer any more pleasant.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, closing his aching, burning, swollen eyes as he breathes in the steam from his cider.

“Lemme know if you change your mind.” Seokmin nods as he settles into the couch even further, sure that he looks quite comical even if the other two aren’t laughing. They are looking at him fondly though, and even despite the undercurrent of concern that’s clear in their expressions, Seokmin finds himself melting even further.

Even if it’s just for tonight, Seokmin decides this can all be real. He can have his cake and eat it too. They both can be his moons, steady beside him and always there, keeping him company constantly and forever in awe.

The vice around his chest seems to loosen just a touch. 

Tonight, this is real. Tomorrow may be hell, but that doesn't matter in the wake of tonight.

“Is there anything we can do to help you feel better?” Seokmin blinks back into the present, his eyes falling onto Jihoon in a moment. Seungcheol is seemingly nowhere to be found and Jihoon has the other mug in his hand, leaving Seokmin to guess that he’s in the kitchen getting another drink or maybe even a snack. The sound of the microwave buttons seem to confirm that. Seokmin looks between himself and Jihoon and his steaming mug of cider as his thoughts swirl, knowing exactly what he wants but unsure if asking for it will actually kill him. Not out of embarrassment or anything, no. It will be the sake of knowing what this feels like that rips him into two. 

But he’s sad. He’s sad and he’s scared. Safe, sure, but when has being safe ever fully eradicated fear from someone’s heart?

Besides, Mingyu has already broken his heart. He may as well let these two bury it. 

Ever so slowly, Seokmin begins to unfurrel, his eyes flickering back and forth from his movements to his mug and finally to Jihoon, desperately trying to ignore the hope that seems to be shining in the older man’s eyes. The slow and steady movements keep him from spilling his cider everywhere, for which he’s grateful, but they do accentuate every aching bone and muscle and wound in his body. He must wince when the base of his hands touch his mug because in an instant he’s opening his eyes to see Jihoon carefully kidnapping his mug from his grasp. When there’s no more danger of spilling steaming liquid all over themselves Jihoon approaches Seokmin slowly, almost as if he’s a wild animal. 

“Can I see your hands?” His voice remains soft and almost hesitant but Seokmin doesn’t think too much about it, holding out his shaky hands and sagging just a hair when Jihoon takes a hold of them. “Hey Cheol?” Jihoon calls over his shoulder, careful to keep his voice gentle, almost as if he’s worried about scaring Seokmin. A hum sounds in the kitchen, Seungcheol peeking his head out in a way that Seokmin can’t help but to find hysterical. He’s too tired to laugh as hard as he wants too, but his little giggles do draw the others’ attention to him, both of them smiling softly. The relief in their eyes is clear too. Seokmin feels even more guilty for making them worry.

“Can you grab me a damp washcloth? And your first aid kit?” Seungcheol’s brows furrow in what’s clearly concern but Jihoon waves him off, giving Seokmin’s fingers a little squeeze when he turns back around. Carefully he pokes around the inflamed area, making sure that he’s always cradling Seokmin’s hands as he does so. When Seungcheol reappears with the requested supplies Jihoon just offers him a soft smile, his eyes fluttering shut when Seungcheol shifts his bangs out of his eyes. A frown tugs at Seungcheol’s features as he looks over both of them, the crinkle in his brows and sourness in his expression clear as day.

“You’re both gonna get sick at this rate,” he half whines, clearly ready to fret over both of them. Jihoon meets Seokmin’s eyes before he rolls his own theatrically, his smile broadening at Seokmin’s little laugh. Seungcheol huffs but leaves them be, heading back into the kitchen after he’s pressed a quick kiss to both of their temples. Seokmin’s cheeks flare red, but he’s almost glad to see Jihoon sporting a similar reaction. It helps make him feel better for a reason he doesn’t care to think of, let alone name. 

“This might hurt,” Jihoon says in lieu of an apology before he begins to dab at the torn skin of Seokmin’s palms. The sensations have him scrunching his face back and biting back winces, each little jolt earning him an apology from Jihoon. That part is almost worse with how it encourages his guilt to fester creully. 

The couch dipping next to him is the only real warning he gets before there’s a gentle hand on his back. It scares him for a moment, which is unsurprising with how his panic attack is still clinging to his skin, but the moment that he recognizes what it is he leans into the touch. Though it’s clear that he tried to hide it, Seokmin can still hear Seungcheol’s relieved sigh. It’s truly just endearing. Seokmin’s heart seeps into the warmth that surrounds it, and he can’t even feel worried about how this may ruin him later.

Later is later. Now, now he is alright.

“I’m gonna put on some neosporin and wrap these, okay?” Seokmin nods even as he finds himself sagging a bit, exhaustion slowly beginning to nip at him. He wiggles a touch until he’s almost leaning fully on Seungcheol, his head resting on the other man’s chest. Time is fluid around him, with him warm and comfortable and the ache in his chest only a background presence. All too soon, Jihoon seems to finish treating his hands with how he no longer cradles them, shuffling sounds in front of him as Jihoon must carefully begin to pack away the supplies. Seokmin’s mourning the loss, but he’s taken by surprise when Jihoon carefully cups his hands, and a gentle kiss seems to be pressed to both of them. He’s ready to burst with affection.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” Seungcheol asks softly as he begins to shift, only stopping once Seokmin is more comfortably leaning against his chest. Seokmin can really only hum, too tired and too content to really care, too blissful with his mind floating away. A hand gently combs through his hair before it slowly moves down his neck and shoulder until it squeezes his bicep, making him flutter his eyes open and meet Jihoon’s warm look. The pink mug is in his hand, held out to Seokmin with an easy smile.

“Want this back?” Seokmin feels his smile widen as he nods, careful not to press his stinging hands into the mug so hard that they’ll hurt. It’s then that he watches Jihoon pass a remote off behind him, Seungcheol clearly getting control over the TV, before a bowl of popcorn appears in Jihoon’s hand. Slowly and carefully Jihoon rests close to Seokmin, careful not to touch him, that is until Seokmin reaches an arm out and tugs him closer. 

They settle together easily, almost like it’s meant to be, and Seokmin feels his heart almost heal in his chest. Together, together, they sit as a movie plays in the background, Jihoon half on top of Seokmin and Seokmin ready to crush Seungcheol. Though he knows tomorrow is going to hurt, Seokmin finally allows himself to rest. 

After all, there is no way better to end his days than like this.

—

 Waking up has never been Seokmin’s favorite part of the day, but waking up today is something even more dreadful. There’s a warm body on top of him but none underneath him, the noise in the kitchen confirming his theory that Seungcheol is already awake. It fits  Seungcheol’s personality, especially when Seokmin sees him come into the living room with a mug in his hands. It smells like coffee. Seokmin’s heart only gets warmer. 

“Did I wake you?” Seokmin blinks a few times before he realizes just how guilty Seungcheol looks. Somehow he manages to shake his head as he yawns, blinking at Seungcheol slowly as he smacks his lips a few times.

“Stop that noise.” It’s grumbled against his sternum, Jihoon groaning as he shifts in order to hide his face in Seokmin’s chest. Seokmin can’t fight back his smile, one of his hands moving to play with Jihoon’s hair before he can even think about it. When he finally remembers himself and looks back at Seungcheol, he’s more than surprised to find Seungcheol’s expression one of longing.

“Oh, Mingyu called me last night,” Seungcheol says softly, shifting Seokmin’s hair out of his eyes. Seokmin can feel panic start to seize his mind, but Seungcheol is careful to smile at him softly and continue to comfort him. “He was worried about you being out in the storm so I told him you were gonna stay over here. But,” Seokmin feels his heart stop, but it starts once more when there’s a little squeeze to his side from a half asleep Jihoon and Seungcheol scratches at his scalp, “he did ask me to tell you that he’s sorry. I didn’t ask why, he said you would understand.” Seokmin feels a sigh of relief escape him - though he knows the dreaded conversation is hanging over him, it’s nicer to be more in control of what’s happening versus if Mingyu had spilled.

“I’ll talk to him later,” Seokmin somehow mumbles, earning him another squeeze to his side and a soft smile from Seungcheol. 

“Breakfast?” Seokmin just hums, taking a deep breath as he shuffles a touch to get more comfortable. Jihoon starts to move off of him but Seokmin doesn’t let him, keeping a soft hand on the older man’s back. “Ji? You want anything more than coffee?” Jihoon makes a grumbly noise and doesn’t bother to actually say any real words. Seungcheol seems to understand anyways, squeezing the back of Jihoon’s neck fondly.

“Why don’t you two just go back to sleep?” Seungcheol teases, and Seokmin complies without a word. He’s still exhausted. Besides, he’s in college; who is he to fight a few extra hours of sleep?

Allowing himself the bliss that comes with his well tended ignorance, Seokmin slips off once more, sugary sweet feelings that he pretends he can’t name engulfing him. 

—

“We should talk.” It’s Seungcheol’s steady voice that breaks their comfortable silence, Jihoon and Seokmin instantly turning their attention to the eldest. “If last night is off the table,” Seungcheol shoots Seokmin a look that has him cussing internally, ready to grab a shovel and start digging his own grave, “then we should at least talk about everything else that’s happened.” Though he knew the time was coming, Seokmin wishes he could play dumb. But, since that’s impossible, he can only be glad that he finished his pancakes already — his appetite has all but disappeared. 

They’re already at the table; it’s arguably the only place in Seungcheol’s apartment that can host this conversation. Plus, Josh isn’t here. They couldn’t have better timing if they had planned it. 

With a resigned sigh, Seokmin closes his eyes and bites the bullet. 

“You two are together.” It was meant to be a question but Seokmin can’t get the intonation right. Then again, it’s not like he didn’t know. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious.

“Yeah, we are.” Jihoon’s voice isn’t as cold as Seokmin had expected it to be, and then he has to wonder why he ever thought Jihoon would ever be cold. Not to anyone when they were so fragile, no, but definitely not to him. He takes a steady breath and mentally prepares himself to take a chainsaw to the bush he’s been beating around for weeks, months, years. 

“I like both of you. A lot.” Seokmin wants to say more but he physically can’t. He’s not sure what’s stopping him besides that there’s no getting around it. With another deep breath, Seokmin finally opens his eyes to survey the damage. What he sees, well, he’s instantly on the defensive. “I know, it’s, it’s,” he makes a guttural noise akin to one someone doing a terrible French accent would do crossed with a gag and paired with a grimace rather than finding the words to describe it. “It’s why I’ve been weird, and I’m sorry. I’ll be fine in a little bit, promise. Just gotta get over myself.” There are tears in his sandpaper eyes once more and his fingers are crossed under the table. He hopes that the other two pick up on none of it. 

“Seokmin.” Seungcheol sounds literally heartbroken, and Seokmin can only wonder what he’s done wrong. The tears threaten to fall as he watches Seungcheol mirror his pitiful expression back, and for a terrible second Seokmin thinks he’s being mocked.

“Seokkie.” Jihoon sounds like he’s wading through pity and it isn’t working, like he’s only a few moments away from drowning in it. 

Both reactions make his heart feel like it’s being rung out. He ignores it for the moment, knowing if he stops now he’ll never be able to start again. Besides, the ship is already taking on water. He might as well sink it his goddamn self. 

“Last night, Mingyu came over to check up on me.” His eyes are glued to his hands as the fidget, anxiety building in his chest. “I didn’t wanna talk about what was wrong, I still don’t, and he seemed fine about it. Super supportive and everything. But then,” his voice shakes until it breaks, “when I got out of the shower, I found him reading my journal.” He’s sure that his voice is so quiet that the other two have to strain to hear it. Even if he wished they hadn’t heard it, they had to based on the little angry noise to his right and heartbroken one to his left. They’re both the correct reaction to have. “I panicked and bolted. And, well, you know the rest.” 

The silence is deafening. The silence stings. Seokmin’s heart breaks once more. He begins to steal himself to thank them for helping him out last night and to get the hell out of here, building his shaky resolve slowly and carefully. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, Jihoon’s voice stops him.

“Seokkie,” he says softly, and when Seokmin chances a glance he sees Jihoon sporting a sad look even with a soft smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this earlier, I thought you had realized it and I should’ve just talked to you, but Seokkie. Seokkie, I really like you.” Seokmin’s heart freezes. What?

What?
What?

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Min. I was just always too scared to tell you.” Seungcheol’s words as to the chaos that is his mind, leaving him reeling with a catastrophe of terrifying thoughts threatening to overtake him. Burying his face in his hands, Seokmin shakes his head almost viciously. 

“Please don’t lie to me.”

“Do you really think either of us would lie about something like this?” Seokmin feels like he’s dying. 

“You have to be.”

“Why?” Seungcheol still sounds so terribly heartbroken that Seokmin knows he’ll never forget it. “What did we do to make you so sure that we are?” Seokmin digs his nails into his scalp and tries to force himself to stay in his head and in the present. 

“I just, you can’t-” A sob finally rips itself from his chest. 

“Seokmin, can I touch you?” With limited hesitation Seokmin nods, grateful for Jihoon’s steady hands against his back. “It’s alright baby, you can cry.” The pet name makes Seokmin choke on another sob. This can’t be happening. It just doesn’t make sense.  

“Here, why don’t you sip on this,” Seungcheol says softly, and a cold glass of water appears in front of him when he finally manages to get his eyes open. With shaking hands Seokmin takes the glass, carefully sipping at the water and doing his best to calm down. 

“I don’t understand,” he mumbles sadly, curled in on himself as he tries to breathe. A hand runs through his hair, fingers scratching at his scalp. 

“That’s okay, baby. Take your time. Ask us whatever.” Seokmin can only whimper. He has so many questions that he has no idea where to start. 

“Explain?” Both of them hum softly, Seungcheol’s arm wrapping itself around his waist as Jihoon runs paths along Seokmin’s spine. 

“What do you need us to explain?" Seokmin chokes slightly. 

“Everything,” he practically sobs once more and in an instant he’s being soothed. Seungcheol has him leaning against his shoulder almost immediately and Jihoon is curling around him, resting his own head on Seokmin’s shaking shoulder. 

“Cheol and I talked last week. We didn’t plan to or anything, we sorta just ran into each other and decided to grab coffee and hash it all out. Things were getting weird between us, and we’ve known each other for years. When shit gets weird it hurts.” Seokmin manages a hum. That all makes sense, and the thought that they hadn’t planned on talking it out without him has something easing in his chest. They hadn’t intentionally left him out.

“We realized pretty quick that we felt like we were walking on eggshells, and in part that was because we were both crushing on the same guy,” Seungcheol squeezes his waist gently, “but also because we had feelings for each other.”

“It only took twelve years to notice.” Seokmin feels Seungcheol reach out and smack Jihoon for that one. He can’t hold back his laugh, they haven’t even known each other for twelve years.

“We were planning on talking to you this weekend actually. We were gonna sit down and tell you everything - about how we realized we were being so dumb throughout all of this, and that we had thought, even hoped, that you shared the same feelings. We were never trying to hurt you, but we still did. We did and I am so sorry.” Seungcheol sniffles and Seokmin feels his heart ache, reaching out to gently squeeze Seungcheol’s leg.

“I know you guys wouldn’t, whether you liked me or not. Neither of you are like that.” It’s Jihoon who hums this time before he wiggles a hair closer.

“But we still hurt you, and I’m sorry. Intentions don’t change what happened.” Seokmin sighs softly. Neither of them are wrong, sure, but he really doesn’t want their pity. Not for this at least. 

“So,” he barely manages, doing his best to keep from spiraling, “what’s next?” Jihoon hums again, finding Seokmin’s hand and squeezing it easily as Seungcheol speaks.

“We were hoping that you’d wanna be with us. Romantically, as boyfriends, the whole thing.”

“Cringe.” Jihoon gets smacked for that one too. But Seokmin doesn’t really notice the violence, too busy rolling over the words in his mind. They, they want to be with him? They want to be with him? Seokmin is finally reeling. 

“Really?” They both squeeze him once they hear the clear disbelief in his tone, and honestly, he can’t blame them.

“Really Seok. If you’re up for it, we really wanna call you ours.” Seokmin’s heart feels as though it’s been brought back from the dead via a true love’s kiss. It’s odd and wacky, but the feeling of it being bandaged is one that eases his pain.

“Okay,” he whispers, earning grins from both Seungcheol and Jihoon as well as a sloppy kiss to his cheek and a squeeze from each of them, respectfully. But a thought strikes him then, something he’s been dreading making itself known. It’s as if his self doubt has grown a form and is smirking at him, daring him to come out with his little secret and see if he survives. 

But relationships require honesty, and if Seokmin isn’t ready to be honest about this, well.

“I need to tell you something.” They both seem equally concerned when he looks at them, soothing him as well as they can without interrupting him. Instead they simply wait, not pressing, and after a few minutes, Seokmin finally finds it in himself to speak.

“There’s, there’s something that I haven’t told you, haven't really told anyone,” he mumbles, his eyes now glued onto the table. The rest of the story is stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t have to worry about it. Not with the two most gentle souls surrounding him.

“Take your time, baby. We’re not going anywhere.” Jihoon hums in an easy agreement, playing with Seokmin’s fingers all the while.

“Whatever you say isn’t gonna change this, okay? We’re still gonna want you here.” Seokmin tries to take a steadying breath and ignores how it shakes. Rip off the bandaid, right? Rip the bandaid clean off.

“I’m asexual.” The words stick but he still somehow manages to force them out. “It’s part of why I ran earlier, when Mingyu found out. I just, it’s not something I care to announce, or even like to deal with.” A hand runs through his hair once again.

“Well, thank you for trusting us enough to tell us this.” Seungcheol hums in agreement softly before he asks the million dollar question.

“But why were you so worried to tell us?” Seokmin squeezes his eyes shut as he forces a shrug.

“Shitty people. Like, I told a guy in high school and he said basically every form of ‘that’s fake’ and ‘you’re broken’ in the book, so.” Seungcheol pulls him even closer, keeping Seokmin close against his chest. Jihoon however just squeezes his hand rather harshly, his breathing too forced for it to be calm. 

“Do you remember his name?”

“No killing,” he admonishes softly, smiling when Jihoon squeezes his hand again. 

“But maiming is on the table.” Seungcheol shakes his head and puffs out an exasperated sigh before he presses a kiss to the top of Seokmin’s head. He’s clearly far too used to Jihoon’s antics. Far too fond of them, too. 

“Lemme put this out here plainly — this changes nothing, Seokmin. I’m still falling for you the way I was three minutes ago.”

“Same.” Seokmin can’t fight back his sniffles. 

“It’s just hard.” They both hum softly, smooshing him between them without hesitation. They stay like that for a long time until Seungcheol groans, shifting a bit before he huffs out in annoyance. 

“This isn’t good for my back,” Seungcheol whines and Jihoon instantly chokes out a laugh. 

“Old man.” Seokmin giggles before he can stop it, earning him an excited squeeze and grin from Jihoon as Seungcheol groans once more. 

“I see how it is. You two are just gonna gang up on me now, huh?” Jihoon’s grin is cheeky when Seokmin looks, clearly taking joy in the whole situation. 

“C’mon, let’s go to the couch,” he teases gently, holding a hand out to Seokmin and Seungcheol. With shared grins, they both take Jihoon’s hands, happy to be led to the couch to dog pile on top of each other. 

Seokmin can’t think of anything better than being smooshed between Jihoon and Seungcheol, his boyfriends. Despite the pressing insecurities that are tripping over themselves to make themselves known, Seokmin does his best to allow himself to rest. The story book ending he’s been craving is right in front of him, it’s not worth ruining that just yet. 

Seungcheol is asleep against him, his nose pressed to Seokmin’s neck as they lay chest to chest. Fingers are gently threading through his hair, detangling it while still scratching at his scalp, never once pulling. It’s making him feel warm and soft, sweeter than he’s felt for a long time. 

“Hey,” Jihoon mumbles quietly, clearly trying not to disturb him if he had fallen asleep. With a little smile blooming on his lips, Seokmin hums back in return. “Was there something else bothering you about coming out?” Seokmin can only blink his eyes open, looking over Jihoon’s worried expression as he thinks. 

“Why?” Jihoon shrugs easily. 

“I dunno, it just seemed like there was something else there. I could be wrong, or you can tell me to fuck off. It’s whatever.” With a heavy sigh, Seokmin finds it in himself to nod. There’s no real point of lying. It’ll make it worse in the long run if he just lets it fester. 

“No, you’re right,” he admits, both of Jihoon’s hands now working through his hair as he captures the older man’s full attention. Seokmin can’t meet his eyes. “It’s something that I’ve always kinda felt guilty about. That guy definitely started the spiral, but basically once I started thinking about how it’s something my partner was gonna have to put up with, I couldn’t ever stop.” Jihoon makes a sad little noise, scratching a little harder at Seokmin’s scalp as he does so. 

“I’m sure it doesn’t feel like it, but it’s not that big of a deal. I’m guessing the guilt has something to do with sex, right?” Seokmin nods. “It’s not really anything to worry about, at least not with us. You know Cheolie will respect any boundaries you have, and I don’t really see sex as all that important to a relationship. We either have it or we don’t, as long as I get stuff like this,” Jihoon gestures to the way that they’re all currently haphazardly sprawled, “I’ll be happy.” Seokmin forces a laugh through the tears brimming in his eyes, hiding his face in Jihoon’s torso. 

“You’re such a sap.” Jihoon only hums against him. 

It’s there, piled between his new boyfriends and bathing in the glow of both acceptance and dare he say love, that Seokmin allows himself to fully relax. Story book endings aren’t always a thing, no, but Seokmin would argue that whatever this is is damn close. A kiss is pressed to his forehead, and with a smile Seokmin finds himself falling asleep once more. 

—

“Hey, baby.” A kiss is pressed to his temple as a drink is slid in front of him, Seungkwan’s eyes blown wide across the table. Seokmin can’t blame him — he’d be pretty fucking confused too if Choi Seungcheol had randomly called him babe and gave him coffee before last weekend. 

“Hey,” Seokmin greets back, sure that his expression is beyond lovie dovie. Seungkwan’s growing confusion practically makes that clear. But none of it really matters when Seokmin sees Seungcheol’s own fond expression mirrored back at him. 

“Wanna come by tonight?” Seokmin thinks about it, considering the paper he’s terribly behind on and the 9 o’clock class he has the next day. His grimace must say it all with how Seungcheol nods easily, running his fingers through Seokmin’s hair before he works on smoothing it where it’s rumpled and mused from Seokmin’s own frantic movements. “Too much work?” Seokmin sighs heavily. 

“Yeah, my theory prof again. I didn’t get near enough done this weekend.” Seungcheol blushes almost instantly, a guilty and sheepish smile overtaking his features. 

“Yeah, fair enough. Just text us if that changes.” Seokmin starts to smile once more, but it turns immediately into a grin once Seungcheol presses a kiss to his cheek. “Oh and here,” he rustles around in his hoodie pocket before he produces a little plastic package that has Seokmin laughing the second he recognizes it. It’s a package of fruit snacks. 

“Tell Jihoonie I said thank you.” Seungcheol shakes his head. 

“Tell him yourself, dork.” Seokmin shakes his head, chancing a glance at Seungkwan to see that his expression has morphed into a calculating one. He’s clearly putting the pieces together, but Seokmin isn’t sure that he cares. 

“I’ll text you later Cheolie.” Seungcheol just smiles, waving to both him and Seungkwan as he leaves. Once Seungcheol’s out of earshot, Seungkwan is clearing his throat and calling Seokmin’s attention back to him. 

“So, I guess you got that figured out?” Seokmin is sure that his own expression is shit eating. 

“Somehow.” Seungkwan rolls his eyes, patting Seokmin’s hand as he smiles. 

“Congrats, Seok. You deserve it.” He’s not sure how to take the words, but he smiles all the same. After all, Seungkwan’s right - he really does deserve good things. 

—

It’s not perfect, not exactly. Seokmin still has days where it feels like everyone is pulling one over on him, and even if they aren’t, Jihoon and Seungcheol will inevitably wake up and realize that they aren’t actually into him. Though it makes him embarrassed, he does try to tell them every time. Getting hugs and kisses helps make up for it anyways. 

There’s also the whole thing about history; it’s just a fact that Seokmin will never have known them for as long as they have known each other. That makes him feel unsteady too, like he doesn’t necessarily fit with them, but they’ve gotten good at working through that too. Talking - it all takes a tremendous amount of talking. 

And sometimes Seokmin walks over to them with his tail between his legs. It didn’t take them long to realize that Seokmin’s terribly sad moods are usually caused by one of their friends graphically discussing their sexcapades. Though he knows that neither Jihoon or Seungcheol are ever going to push him into doing something he doesn’t want to do, it still makes him feel guilty that he doesn’t want to do it. 

He’s not sure that he’ll ever really stop feeling guilt over it. They told him that’s okay too. 

Seokmin hopes that one day he’ll believe them.

—

There’s a knock on his door that has Seokmin’s eyebrows furrowing. He isn’t really expecting anyone - Vernon is out with one of his friends, his boyfriends also quiet in their group chat. More confused than anything, Seokmin pauses the youtube video he has playing, a touch apprehensive as he goes to open the door. When he sees who’s on the other side, he wishes he hadn’t.

“Can we talk?” Mingyu sounds sad and like he’s been appropriately admonished, which Seokmin can’t exactly blame him for. Honestly, Mingyu probably should sound like that. With a sigh, Seokmin leans against his doorframe, the hurt in his heart flaring as he looks at his best friend. The fact that his eyes are starting to sting, a tell-tale sign that tears are soon to follow, has him more annoyed at the whole experience than he maybe should be. 

“Why?” Mingyu deflates a bit, his free hand running through his hair. It’s then that Seokmin finally notices he’s holding some sort of box, and after a second of scrutiny he knows exactly what it is. “Is that an apology cake?” Mingyu goes beet red before he nods, his puppy dog eyes in full force as if he’s trying to convince Seokmin to let him in. Fortunately or unfortunately, who knows, it works. Seokmin huffs and walks back inside his apartment but doesn’t close the door, a clear sign for Mingyu to follow him. 

A little while later, Seokmin finds himself with a plate of German chocolate cake, filled with some sort of strawberries and cream situation that he doesn’t care to know more about than just that it tastes excellent. He knows he’s being primed for an apology, but hey,  sometimes apology cakes are worth it. 

“I’m sorry.” Seokmin just hums, not at all shocked that Mingyu starts out with that. 

“Me too.” Mingyu’s eyes drop to his fidgeting hands rather than looking at Seokmin, something he’d call cowardly if he hadn’t known Mingyu for so long. 

“I just, I dunno what came over me. I guess I figured if I knew why you were so upset I could help you more, but it was really fucked up for me to breach your privacy like that and Im really sorry.” Seokmin hums once again. There’s a way to wear Mingyu down, and it’s just like this: let his own mind suffocate him. Normally Seokmin wouldn’t go to such lengths, but he wasn’t kidding when he said Mingyu broke his heart. He also helped trigger a massive panic attack, so Seokmin figures it’s all only fair. “You don’t have to forgive me or anything, but I really miss you Seok. I just hope that we can be friends again.”

“Y’know,” he starts after a long pause, Mingyu’s eyes darting to his immediately while Seokmin continues to lick at his fork (it’s good cake, sue him), “Jihoon was ready to beat your ass. Honestly, he still might.” Mingyu swallows thickly. 

“I can’t blame him.” Seokmin feels his eyes narrow as he looks over Mingyu once more.

“I’m really fucking mad at you.” Mingyu nods, his eyes back on his hands.

“Yeah, I know. You should be.” Seokmin sighs heavily, debating with himself for a few minutes before he eventually gives in. This is Mingyu, even if he’s done something terrible, Seokmin can’t let him out of his life. Losing Mingyu would hurt worse than his betrayal. Besides, he gets it, he really does.

“I do get it though.” Mingyu’s eyes snap back up, his expression shocked. 

“What?”

“I get why you did it. I hate to admit it, but I can see a world that I would do the same.” Mingyu just keeps blinking at him, which makes Seokmin sigh at him once more. “Look, I’m gonna be pissed for a while. But that doesn’t mean I want to lose you over this.” The tears in Mingyu’s eyes are as surprising as rain during a thunderstorm warning. 

“Really?” Seokmin nods easily, holding his arms out. Mingyu barely even hesitates before he’s flinging himself into Seokmin’s hold. It feels right to have his best friend back, Seokmin has to admit, even if it stings. 

“If you do anything else like this, I’ll gut you myself.” Mingyu only squeezes him harder, his face buried in Seokmin’s shoulder.

“As you should.” Seokmin can only smile. Of course they're going to be okay, there’s no other way for them to be.

—

Seokmin slowly makes his way to a nearby table, holding a finger to his lips when Soonyoung catches his eye. He watches the older man fight back a smile before he turns back to Jihoon, nodding along to whatever he’s saying. The glee in his eyes is clear, and Jihoon must call him out on it with how huffy he gets. 

Without a warning and without a care for any retaliation, Seokmin drapes himself across Jihoon’s back and locks his arms around his torso, pressing a sloppy kiss to Jihoon’s cheek. The elbow he gets to the ribs is well worth Jihoon’s muffled yelp paired with how far he jumps. 

“Assholes,” Jihoon mumbles, pointedly ignoring Seokmin hanging off of him and Soonyoung cackling across from him. 

“Naw, Jihoonie,” Seokmin whines, tucking his face into Jihoon’s neck and squeezing around his middle. 

“I’m unfriending both of you,” he says without any bite, leaning into Seokmin’s touch ever so slightly. 

“But you love us,” Seokmin teases back, feeling himself freeze when Jihoon nods against him.

“Yeah, I do.”

Oh. They haven’t talked about the L word, not really, but Seokmin isn’t actually all that surprised to hear Jihoon admit to it. 

“Love you too, babe.” He can feel Jihoon heat up with what must be a blush, smiling to himself before he presses himself even closer to Jihoon. 

“While this is cute and all,” Soonyoung eventually says after Lord only knows how long, “get a fuckin’ room.” Seokmin feels Jihoon move and he doesn’t have to look to know that Jihoon’s flipping him off.

“Don’t come home tonight, asshole.” Soonyoung gasps in mock offense this time and Seokmin can’t hold back his giggles against Jihoon’s neck, not even when Jihoon squirms and bats at him. “Stop that, you menace,” he hisses but Seokmin only clings harder.

Eventually Seokmin does let go, grinning cheekily at Jihoon as he finally stands. Soonyoung is still clearly laughing even if he’s trying to hide it, Jihoon huffing as he tries to right himself. 

“Movie night?” Jihoon rolls his eyes as he begins to pack up his stuff, huffing once more for show.

“Just for that I’m picking a horror movie.” 

“Jihoooooonieeeee,” Seokmin whines instantly, wrapping his hands around Jihoon’s arm and shaking it softly. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” Jihoon scowls at him, though Seokmin can still see the undercurrent of teasing in his eyes. 

“We’re watching Nightmare on Elm.” Oh man, Seokmin can only think, his face scrunching up at the prospect of watching that. Jihoon laughs at his suffering, the bastard. 

“Cheol’s gonna be so mad,” Seokmin groans, ignoring Soonyoung as he laughs.

“You get to tell him why he’s being subjected to this.” Seokmin whines high in his throat, tossing Soonyoung a quick wave before he tugs on Jihoon’s hand.

“Don’t make me.” Jihoon just grins victoriously, leaving Seokmin to sigh. “Are we picking him up?” 

“Nah, he’s meeting us in a little while. Which means I have you all to myself,” Jihoon wiggles his eyebrows as he says it, bumping into Seokmin a few times as he laughs.

“Oh no, Jihoonie, whatever will we do?” Jihoon just winks, and Seokmin can’t fight back his laughter. The cuddle session that follows the second they’re within the door lives up to all the teasing he had to endure. 

They’re in Jihoon’s bed waiting for Seungcheol to arrive, and Seokmin has his head firmly against Jihoon’s chest. He’s half asleep, Jihoon playing on his phone with one hand as the other combs through Seokmin’s hair, and Seokmin can’t deny the warm and melted state of his heart. 

“Baby?” Seokmin hums softly in response. “Cheol’s gonna be here in a few minutes.”

“Is the door locked?” He somehow manages to say, and Jihoon just hums softly.

“I gotta get up and let him in.” A pitiful noise is all he responds with. Jihoon’s soothing him in a moment, scratching at his scalp carefully as he does so. “Consider this: you can cuddle with me and Seungcheol if you move.” That’s enough to have him moving, rolling off of Jihoon and curling around himself. A kiss is pressed to his temple as Jihoon laughs softly, still working his fingers through Seokmin’s messy hair. They stay like that for a little while before there’s a knock on the door, Jihoon pressing another kiss to his temple as he stands to leave. He doesn’t have much time to doze before Seungcheol and Jihoon’s voices can be heard throughout the apartment, a soft smile finding its way to his features.

“Oh lovie, are you tired?” Seokmin hums softly, smiling a hair wider when Seungcheol kisses him gently. “Well that’s no good, is it Ji?”

“Not at all.” Seokmin reaches out, relaxing even more when Seungcheol indulges him and takes his hand. 

“What should we do Jihoonie? You think we should join him?” Jihoon hums this time and Seokmin can practically see his little smile.

“He did tell me he loves me today so I think he earns the right.” The bed dips next to him, and before he really knows it he finds himself laying on Seungcheol’s chest, Jihoon presumably across from him. He curls around Seungcheol with an easy sigh, smiling to himself as his action earns him a kiss from Jihoon. 

“No movie tonight?” Seungcheol teases but Seokmin just smacks at his chest with his fingertips.

“Nap first.” Seokmin reaches out and squeezes Jihoon’s hand in thanks, a kiss pressed to the back of his hand without warning. 

“Love you both,” Seokmin mumbles a few minutes later, teetering over the precipice of sleep but aware enough to know what he’s saying, “so much.”

“I love you, too, Seok,” Seungcheol whispers as Jihoon hums in agreement, another squeeze to Seokmin’s hand punctuating the words.

“Love you too.”

Happier than ever, or at least more content, Seokmin allows himself to drift off, more secure and safe with his boyfriends than he ever could have imagined. 

(Jihoon does make them watch A Nightmare on Elm Street after their nap. But even with visions of Freddy Krueger dancing throughout his mind, Seokmin still ends up smooshed between his boyfriends. He’s not sure he’d have it any other way. (Besides, post-nightmare guilt cuddles are some of the best cuddles out there.))