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Minho has, and always will have, a soft spot for his seven friends. But the two youngest in particular, he will always look out for, always protect (Felix is an outlier, anyone would die for that kid).
With Seungmin, Minho has to be a little more tricksy in the way he shows his affections. Neither of them are particularly touchy or prone to gift giving, points they both agree on, but they do enjoy doing little things for others, silently supporting their different friends whenever they need it. But Minho has found that the times when he feels particularly soft (disgusting) and fulfilled in his duties as a caring friend, is when he does something small for Seungmin on his neutral days, when things are neither good nor bad, but just are, and he manages to coax that small smile out of the younger.
Today is one such day. Seungmin had accidentally alluded to missing breakfast and forgetting to pack his lunch, and Minho knows that today is a day where Seungmin won’t have time to wait in lines between his classes to get something to eat, given that they’re nearly back to back, with the longest break being thirty minutes and half of that time being taken to get across campus to the right classroom, not until he’s done late in the afternoon.
So Minho cracks his knuckles and sets to work in the kitchen. Seungmin trying to power through the day on a granola bar he probably has tucked away in case of emergencies just won’t do. No, it will not.
“Watcha making?” Chan asks when he comes into the kitchen at one point, hooking his chin over Minho’s shoulder while he works away at the stove, watching him work for a minute before moving on.
“Food,” Minho says simply.
He doesn’t see the evaluating look Chan gives him before the lightbulb goes off in the older’s eyes and he’s smiling mischievously, having an inkling of an idea of what Minho is up to.
“Okay,” Chan says as he walks out of the kitchen. “Have fun!”
Fifteen minutes before Seungmin’s class lets out, Minho is walking out the door, food container in hand, and on his way to where he knows Seungmin will be next.
He spots Seungmin in his trademark navy and white windbreaker from where he’s sitting on the low concrete wall, walking as fast as he can, face set in that determined look Minho knows well. It’s the one where Seungmin is struggling and trying to power through with all that he’s got. And Minho can’t fault him for that, it’s actually admirable to an extent, but he knows that Seungmin hates feeling like that.
So he stands up and goes against the crowd of students until he reaches Seungmin.
“Here,” Minho says, in lieu of greeting. He presses the container of food into Seungmin’s hands. “It should be cool enough now to eat before class.”
He’s off before Seungmin can say anything, too surprised to get the words out fast enough.
Sure enough, a small smile creeps over Seungmin’s face (along with a warm feeling in his chest), and he rushes to get into his classroom and grab a seat, easily able to make his way through half of the homecooked meal before his class starts, feeling much, much better than he did earlier.
Seungmin: I’ll get the container back to you asap.
Seungmin: And thank you. It was really yummy.
Minho: You’re welcome.
~~~
Jeongin, surprisingly, Minho sometimes has to work a little harder, the kid too smart for his own good, a little too good at hiding things (he learned far too well from Seungmin).
But tonight is not one such night.
It’s late, the library is almost empty, and Minho is ready to chuck his biology textbook out the window so it can fall to its death to the ground below, when he hears Jeongin groan from across the way and the distinct sound of a head hitting a textbook in defeat.
“Remind me why I decided to take a class on Shakespeare’s works?” Jeongin asks woefully.
“Because you listened to Jisung,” Minho responds easily. “You should know by now to never listen to Jisung when it comes to taking classes with him.”
Jeongin just groans again in response, mumbling something about “friends and their lack of sanity”.
Minho checks the notes he’s been working and where he is in the textbook readings and decides he’s done enough to warrant a break. Bookmarking his textbook, he grabs his wallet and stands up, stretching tall, feeling relief when something in his back pops after sitting for so long. “Come on, Mr. Playwright, we’re going to get ice cream.”
Jeongin perks up at that. “Really?”
“Chop, chop, or else I’m leaving you behind,” Minho says, moving towards the elevator. He nods at Momo behind the desk, tilting his head at their things. She gets the message and nods, making an “ok” sign with her thumb and index finger. Usually it’s fine to leave your stuff alone in the library for a short amount of time, but it never hurts to let the librarian on duty know you’re doing so.
Jeongin catches up to Minho while they wait by the elevator, shuffling in place a little from excitement.
The convenience store that sits in the corner of the first floor of the building is dead at this time of night, most people either sleeping (responsibly) or caught up studying. It leaves Minho and Jeongin with a case filled with ice cream options to choose from, much to both their delight. After purchasing the treats, the two go outside and sit on the bench, enjoying the cool night air.
“Thanks,” Jeongin says, nudging Minho in the side with his elbow, a bright smile on his face.
“Don’t mention it.”
(If Jeongin sees the soft smile Minho directs his way out of the corner, he doesn’t mention it. Just like he doesn’t mention that the selfie they take later after finally defeating their studying goes straight into his favourites folder on his phone.)