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Summary
“Did I catch your eye?” asks the boy, and Minho realises he’d been staring. When he instinctively turns away, the boys tsks. “Aw, don’t be shy on me now.”
Despite himself, and despite knowing the position he’s in, Minho scoffs. “Please. I’m not shy.”
“Look at me, then.”
It’s a challenge. Minho knows it’s a challenge. The boy caught him when he was vulnerable and snatched his weakness with his greedy, greedy hands. He’s cocky now. Minho almost feels bad for him when he steps forward and matches his gaze with a practised, unwavering intensity. The poor boy doesn’t know that he’d given Minho his own weakness; but Minho knows the moment the boy yields, when his teasing eyes grow wide and he averts his gaze.
It’s silent for bit while everyone tries to process the boy’s shamefully sudden show of defeat, but all Minho can fixate on is the deeply scarlet blush high on the boy’s cheeks.
“Damn,” their leader whistles. “Never thought I’d see the day someone shut Jisung up.”
or, when Minho joins Chan's gang of misfits, he doesn't expect to fall for the leader's younger brother.