Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Fuck, Marry, Kill,” Jeonghan says, prodding the beef on the grill between them. “Soonyoung, Seungcheol, Joshua.”

Seokmin points at him with his chopsticks. “I can answer this, but you have to you promise not to tell them what I say.”

“Why would I tell them?”

“Because last time you told Seungkwan that I would fuck Junhui! He didn’t talk to me for a week!”

Jeonghan sniggers and turns the meat over on the grill. “I was just being honest! Don’t you want me to be honest with our friends?”

“Not when you make me answer Fuck, Marry, Kill about their boyfriends. You knew what it would do!”

“Okay, alright. I won’t say a word.”

“Fuck Soonyoung, marry Seungcheol, kill Joshua.”

“Oho,” Jeonghan says, placing the grilled meat on Seokmin’s plate to reward him. “What did Joshua ever do to you?”

“Nothing! Don’t get any ideas! I just don’t know him as well as you do.”

“You don’t know Seungcheol that well either, do you?”

“No… but he seems like husband material. Joshua just had the last option left.”

“So you’d definitely fuck Soonyoung?”

He considers, tilting his head from side to side, and Jeonghan giggles mischievously. “I think we’d be a strange duo. But I wouldn’t say no to it, just one time.”

“Let me think of a more objective one,” Jeonghan says, absent-mindedly picking out some kimchi to chew on. “People we don’t know as well. Who do we always see on nights out at Homo Hill?”

“Wait, aren’t you going to answer it too?”

“Fuck, Marry, Kill,” Jeonghan insists. “Choi Soobin, Kim Mingyu, Xu Minghao.”

“Who’s Xu Minghao again? Is he the one who painted that mural on the school walls last semester?”

“Yeah. He’s Mingyu’s ex.”

“Mingyu’s ex?”

“They broke up at the end of the semester.”

He takes a bite of beef, thinking it over. As someone who’s been in the same room as Kim Mingyu many times, he knows what it’s like to experience a face like that up close. He can’t even talk about the time they’d bumped into him on a night out, and he’d been wearing this shimmery, sheer shirt, and Seokmin had a hard time looking him in the eye. Mingyu is tall, and his pecs had been Right There.

Jeonghan had laughed at him and splashed his drink at him for it, which had brought him back to reality. Which is a relief, because Mingyu typically sits two rows ahead of him in their cinematography lectures. He’d never attend those lectures again if he were caught leering at Kim Mingyu in a gay club.

“Do you know Soobin?” Jeonghan asks, bringing him out of his thoughts of shimmering abs and Mingyu’s cute, pointed canine that pokes out of his mouth when he smiles.

“Yes,” Seokmin says, shaking himself out of it. “He’s in some of my classes. He’s really nice.”

“What were you thinking so hard about, then? Mingyu’s abs?”

“No,” he says, too quickly, which gives him away. “I think I’d fuck Minghao, marry Mingyu, kill—no, I can’t kill Soobin, he’s too nice. Fuck Soobin, marry Mingyu, kill Minghao.”

“Definitely marrying Mingyu? You do realise if you marry him, you can’t fuck him too, right?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it’s the rules. You have to choose one or the other. Gonna change your answer?”

He pauses for a beat too long. “No.”

Jeonghan laughs at him again. “You want to. Admit it! It doesn’t have to just be one fuck. You could fuck a lot.”

“Stop! I’m not changing it!” he says, putting a hand to his face as he feels his cheeks going warm. “I think he’s husband material! Soonyoung says he’s a great cook, and he always keeps their dorm clean, and he’s really great at photography, his work is always some of the best I see in class—”

“Okay, you don’t have to write poetry about him,” Jeonghan says, nabbing the perilla leaf from Seokmin’s plate. “I get it. I’ve seen him. I just didn’t know you had a crush on him.”

“I don’t have a crush on him!” he exclaims, and the two girls sat on the table next to them turn to look their way. Jeonghan sniggers, and Seokmin smiles at them before turning away, covering his face talk to Jeonghan.

“I don’t have a crush on him,” he repeats, and Jeonghan just shrugs.

“Doesn’t bother me if you do. But it’s obvious.”

“Everyone has a crush on Mingyu. It’s not serious. Soonyoung doesn’t call him the Gaymaker for nothing. He just looks like that, and people fall over themselves for it.”

“Not me,” Jeonghan says, gripping his chopsticks in hand and sitting back in his chair. He crosses his arms, like the statement is a challenge.

“That’s because you’re the other Gaymaker. The original Gaymaker. You know Mark Lee approached me at the end of term and asked for your number? I could’ve sworn he never even dates, just kisses girls at parties sometimes.”

“And you didn’t give it to him?” Jeonghan says, his affronted air tinged with amusement and pride.

“No! You’d be terrible together. You’d string him along with all your schemes and he’d be clueless about it until the last minute. Plus, you and Huang Renjun would start bitchfighting in the corridors, because he’s in love with Mark and Mark has no idea. You’d find it funny, but Mark and Renjun are friends with almost all the arts students between them. You’d be making enemies left and right all the way to graduation.”

“You have no faith in me! I could take Huang Renjun,” Jeonghan grins. “You never know. Me and Mark Lee could be great together. Maybe it’s worth making enemies of half the school.”

“No, no. You need someone who understands you, Hyung, or you’d never make it work.”

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkle at him under the restaurant lights. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” he says. “Someone like Seungcheol or Joshua. They know what you’re like.”

“There are people who know me better,” Jeonghan says, eyebrows raised.

“What, like Seungkwan and Wonwoo? They’re both taken, Hyung, you’re going to have to check with Junhui and Chan about that.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes with a funny sort of smile. “And Kim Mingyu? Does he know you?”

“Barely. But Kim Mingyu isn’t asking for my number. And this isn’t about me!”

Jeonghan eyes Seokmin up carefully. “We could make it happen, you know.”

Seokmin looks up from his plate, surprised, then laughs nervously. “No, I don’t like Kim Mingyu like that. It’s nothing serious. And you can’t just make someone like you back, Hyung, not through tricks. I’m need to focus on studying this year, anyway.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan says, voice even. “Not the study of Kim Mingyu, right?”

Seokmin throws a napkin at him, and the awkward angle carries it over to land on the floor beside the two girls. He looks away awkwardly again, and Jeonghan laughs at him.

-

Sometimes he wonders if Jeonghan might be related to some gods somewhere, or the fates, or maybe a mythological being or two. There’s something about him that makes him hard to refuse, absolutely mesmerising to watch, and unbelievably perceptive about things.

Mingyu has been in his classes for the past two years he’s studied here—that’s nothing new. The two of them regularly take the same seats in the lecture hall: he and Soonyoung take the middle row, while Mingyu and his friend Vernon take the seats nearer the front, two rows ahead. Also nothing new.

What is new is Mingyu turning around in his seat to look at him. Right as the lecture is starting, right as Seokmin is staring at the back of his head and trying to figure out if he’s dyed his hair a lighter shade of brown, Mingyu turns in his seat and looks straight in Seokmin’s direction.

He blinks, smiles his curling little smile, and turns back around to look at his notebook as the lecturer starts to speak. It lasts just a second or two, but he’s never really had unnecessary attention from Mingyu before.

Hence the thought that Jeonghan might be divine. That’s something all-new and scary, and it’s happened less than a week after they’d sat at the BBQ place and talked about Mingyu together. It’s crazy, absolutely crazy, but—

“He looked at you?” Joshua asks from the little kitchenette he shares with Jeonghan and Seungcheol, as post-grads with privileges. “So what?”

“He doesn’t usually do that! He’s never looked at me before unless we’re having a conversation!”

“That is usually how looking at people works,” Joshua shrugs.

“Exactly! But we weren’t having a conversation—I hadn’t made a noise, we hadn’t talked right before sitting down, nothing like that. He just looked at me. It has to mean something, right?” he turns to Jeonghan, who is looking at Seokmin with pursed lips.

“Do you want it to mean something?”

“I mean—it’s not that I want it to—I’m just wondering, you know? Why would he do that? He’s Mingyu, and I’m me! Why was he looking at me?”

“He has every right to look at you!” Jeonghan says defensively. “Why wouldn’t he look at you?”

“Have you seen him?”

“You guys,” Joshua says, bringing over the pot of teokkbokki he’s been working at over the stove. “It was just a look. It might not mean anything.”

“It has potential,” Jeonghan insists, diving in for the teokkbokki as soon as it hits the table. “We can work with it.”

“Potential?” he asks, voice thin.

“Sure. If you have the attention of someone you like, you have to do whatever necessary to keep it.”

“He only looked at me for a second…”

“I don’t mean keep it right there and then,” Jeonghan says, gesturing with his chopsticks for Seokmin to take some food too. “I mean, he’s going to look at you again, and take note of whether you look back. He might start liking all your posts on Instagram. He’ll ask you if you want to get coffee after class, or if you want to study together, or—”

“Or he could’ve just been looking behind him,” Joshua says.

“He probably was,” Seokmin sighs.

“No, he’s interested, I’m positive. Even if it was just a glance, people like Mingyu can’t hide what it is they really want.”

“I don’t think he’s going to get very far.”

Jeonghan looks at him, blankly unimpressed. “And why is that? You’re very good looking! You should have more confidence!”

“I—it’s not that, but thanks. I’m not exactly Kim Mingyu, but—“ he hurries on at Jeonghan’s look, “I meant in your steps, he’s not going to get very far! I only have two posts on Instagram, and one is of my uncle’s dog. And I don’t like coffee.”

“The other post is the gum wall, isn’t it?” Joshua says, eyebrow raised.

“Are you even stood in front of the gum wall?” Jeonghan asks, and Seokmin can see him opening up Instagram over the table.

“No,” he admits. “I don’t think he’s going to be very interested.”

He means for it to be a joke. It’s not that he’s desperate for Kim Mingyu’s attention—it was just a surprise to have him notice Seokmin in class, seemingly for no reason. He wants to make Jeonghan laugh and say something ridiculous, like there’s a reason you only have two friends, and it’s because you have five slides of gum wall pictures on your Instagram. Then they’ll leave it at that. Maybe Kim Mingyu can become an in-joke Jeonghan teases him about in the future.

Instead he says, “We can fix that.”

Seokmin slowly chews his piece of teokkbokki. “What?”

“We can take some pictures for your Instagram,” Jeonghan says. “Let’s walk around campus tomorrow and do it. Bring some different clothes so you can post them across a few days.”

“Hyung,” he says, flustered. “We don’t have to do that, it’s okay.”

“We’re doing it,” Jeonghan says. “If you want Kim Mingyu, then I’m getting you a date with Kim Mingyu.”

He swallows at the prospect. A date? He can see it written all over Joshua’s disbelieving face—the guy only looked at him. Once. Briefly.

“Trust me,” Jeonghan says, looking Seokmin in the eye, something knowing to his gaze.

And against Seokmin’s better judgement, he does.

-

The next day, Jeonghan turns up at his dorm room and helps him pick out a t-shirt, an outer shirt, a jacket, an oversized hoodie, and a coat to wear. Then he instructs Seokmin to layer them up, so he can take them off one by one as they wander around on their photography tour of campus.

“Joshua told me yesterday that whenever you take pictures of him, you make him look like a giraffe,” Seokmin says as they leave his building, already sweating under all the clothes. It’s mid-February outside, so for once he’s glad when they hit the chilly air, but he still feels like he’s been shoved into a mascot suit for Jeonghan’s entertainment.

“That’s just because I don’t want to take pictures of him. He always asks me to. Don’t worry, I’m good at it when I want to be.”

They start at the fountain outside the Physics building, which Jeonghan instructs him to look up at, look away from, look at the camera, smile at the ground, smile like you mean it! He’s self-conscious with the streams of students passing by, but Jeonghan makes him stay until he’s happy with the results.

He’s a little more merciful on him for their next location, which takes them out of campus, on a ten minute walk into the city. The park out this way is a favourite spot for couples in the summertime, taking romantic walks or having picnics under the shade of the trees. With spring not quite in bloom yet, it’s a little bare, but still a fresh green walk alongside cyclists and dog walkers.

They stop beside some of the pretty bridges and flower bushes, and Jeonghan throws Seokmin’s coat haphazardly over his shoulder as he angles the perfect photos, blocking everyone’s way on the path.

“Good, very good,” Jeonghan says, praising him for barely shifting poses beside the stone statue of a boy they’ve found amongst the trees. It’s cute, how invested he is in this silly plan to populate Seokmin’s Instagram, but this is classic Jeonghan behaviour, after all. “Great, these are great. I don’t know why you don’t do this more often.”

“I don’t have enough followers to bother posting for,” Seokmin jokes. “I just send pictures of my meals to my eomma, and she replies with a thumbs up. That’s about as social as I can manage.”

“Don’t be stupid, you have loads of friends!”

“I don’t do anything worth taking pictures of, then?”

“You hang out with me. I’m worth taking pictures of.”

Seokmin pushes him, laughing, but can’t find a flaw in his logic.

As they follow the path further into the trees, they come around to the small greenhouse exhibit in the park. It looks the same as ever, but the walkway that runs around it catches his eye. Maybe someone caught on that the park is a popular spot for couples, because the walkway has these new, big wicker arches over them in the shape of hearts, and each heart has a little plaque sitting primly at the arc of it.

“Five languages of love,” Jeonghan reads aloud, then brightens. “This is perfect! Take your coat off, we’re taking pictures here. Hoodie too.”

“What sort of pictures am I supposed to take here?” he laughs, taking his coat off nonetheless.

The attendant standing at the doors of the exhibit approaches them politely. “Would you like me to take pictures of you both?”

Jeonghan seems delighted at the prospect. “Yes please, that would be great.”

“Hey!” Seokmin exclaims, and Jeonghan just smiles at him, eyes bright.

“What? It’ll be fun!”

“Is this still for Instagram?”

Jeonghan’s expression softens. “It’s still for Mingyu,” he affirms. “We can make him jealous, look.”

They move under the first arch, which says, a warm meeting of eyes. Jeonghan positions Seokmin in front of him, but they both end up trying not to laugh as the attendant starts taking pictures, looking each other in the eyes with wide smiles. This barely lasts ten seconds before the attendant is ushering them over to the next heart.

A soft holding of hands. Their hands meet in the middle, Seokmin looking at Jeonghan and trying not to smile too much. Jeonghan looks at the camera to avoid making himself laugh, and the attendant takes a few pictures again.

Next up is hugging cosily. “These are going to be so good,” Jeonghan says as Seokmin puts his arms around him in an open hug, not quite going in so that the two of them still have room to face the camera. Jeonghan had also taken his coat off so as not to look strange beside Seokmin—he’s starting to shiver now, but still looking pleased with himself as they walk along to the next one.

Heart number four says kiss sweetly. Seokmin laughs, and Jeonghan steps back.

“Let’s do a standoffish one. You stand over there.”

Seokmin points at the sign and looks at the camera, trying not to look like a deer caught in headlights. If this is number four, he’s nervous for what number five might be.

A deep, passionate kiss.

“Wow, we’ve been moving really fast,” he says, going in to wrap his arms around Jeonghan. “A kiss, Hyung? A deep, passionate kiss?” He tilts his head as if to go in for it, and Jeonghan just laughs at him, backing away.

“I think we’ve got the important ones,” he says, swerving Seokmin to go back to the attendant for his phone, their coats, and to thank her several times.

“Isn’t kissing the most important?” Seokmin asks offhand, but comes to Jeonghan’s side to see how the photos turned out anyway.

The attendant had managed to get some of them at the end, despite Jeonghan not staying in place for long. From the angle they’re at, it really does look like Seokmin is going in for a kiss, albeit Jeonghan doesn’t look too serious about it, an awkward smile on his face.

“These are pretty good,” he says, as Jeonghan studies them closely.

“They’ll do,” he replies, raising his head. “Don’t think you’re off the hook yet. We’ve got two more sets of pictures to do.”

Jeonghan buys him some bungeoppang to reward his patience as they do the round trip back to campus. In only the outer shirt layer, he takes some pictures against a mural outside the Arts building. Jeonghan thankfully agrees to taking pictures inside the library for the final, t-shirt set.

They find the corner with all the huge, old books, take some pictures under the stone archway with the sculpted face at the top of it, and take a few shots by a window where the sunlight shines through strongly.

“Success?” he asks, cupping his face in his hand as Jeonghan sits opposite him at the study table. He swipes through pictures, an absent smile on his face, and Seokmin has to repeat his question. “Are they okay?”

“Hm?” Sat under the angle of the sunbeams himself, Jeonghan’s pretty features look even more unreal than usual. “Yeah, they’ll do. You look good. We should do this more often.” He stands, stretching with a groan as if he’s fourty years older than he is. “Now I need you to do something.”

“Oh no.” That tone rarely means anything good or easy with Jeonghan. “What is it?”

He leans over the table, so he’s right by Seokmin’s ear. “Do you see that guy over there?”

There’s a guy a few tables away from them, sat with a pair of headphones over his head, squinting hard at the book on his desk. He looks as though he hasn’t slept any time recently.

“Yes?”

“I want you to go and ask for his number.”

Seokmin looks over at the guy, then back at Jeonghan, doing a double take. “You want me to what?”

“It’ll be good practice!” Jeonghan insists, though the smile in his voice definitely implies more than practice. “How are you supposed to ask for Mingyu’s number if you can’t ask for a stranger’s?”

“Why do I need to ask for a stranger’s number if I’m going to ask for Mingyu’s?” he says, flustered. “I know Mingyu! I’m not going to go and disturb that guy, he’s working. And I don’t even know if he’s into guys, what if it’s really weird?”

“He is, I know him. Trust me.”

“Are you just saying that to make me do this?”

“No, I really do know him through Seungcheol! He’s a post-grad in music production.”

“What am I even supposed to say?” He wrings his hands together. “How do you lead into something like that?”

“Just go and sit with him and start a conversation. Say something natural, compliment his clothes or something.”

“He’s wearing a university hoodie, Hyung.”

“Use your imagination!”

“Jeonghan,” the guy says from across the room, and both of them turn their heads. The guy has his head raised, looking straight at them, unamused.

“Jihoon?” Jeonghan says innocently.

“Can you go and terrorise someone else?”

“Terrorise?” Jeonghan says, a hand over his chest. “Me?”

“No one asks for a stranger’s number in person these days,” Jihoon says. “You’re torturing him.”

“I’m helping him!”

“I’m so sorry,” Seokmin says, grabbing Jeonghan by the end of his sleeve and pulling him up. “We won’t disturb you anymore.”

“Do you even have music playing?” Jeonghan asks as he’s being led away. “Do you just sit in here and listen to people’s conversations with headphones on?”

Jihoon is still giving Jeonghan this unimpressed look, but the way his mouth is curling up reassures Seokmin’s conscience. He’s not really mad. No one can be when it comes to Jeonghan, though. “I was between songs. I’m not a complete menace like you, Hyung.”

“No one is,” Seokmin agrees, pushing open the door. “Sorry again!”

“Don’t apologise!” Jeonghan tells him as they make their way through rows and rows of books, not bothering to be all that quiet. “He ruined our fun!”

“Your fun,” Seokmin reminds him, in a hushed voice. “I was never going to ask him for his number.”

“You would’ve,” Jeonghan says, looking awfully pleased with himself.

“I wouldn’t,” he insists.

He probably would’ve, if Jeonghan hadn’t dropped it. He’s simultaneously hopeful he never sees Jihoon again, and he has the chance to buy him a grateful coffee sometime. His suspiciously long gap between songs saved them both from a horribly awkward interaction for the sake of Jeonghan’s amusement.

-

In his next class, the inevitable happens: group projects. And as is turns out, even the inevitable has been Jeonghanified.

What’s usually inevitable about group projects is this: getting assigned with people you don’t know; someone (not Seokmin) taking the leadership role and awkwardly delegating tasks; and the whole group doing the bare minimum communication possible until deadline day. Then it’s over.

But today is different. Today, Jeonghan’s spell still lingers over him, because against all the odds, he’s assigned to a group with Mingyu.

Mingyu is practically beaming when they’re told to sit with their groups and discuss their project for the last ten minutes of class, looking around at Seokmin with the biggest toothy smile, and Seokmin averts his eyes quickly, smiling at the ground. When he looks back up, Mingyu is still grinning to himself, making his way up to where Jung Jaehyun is beckoning them to sit on his row.

Maybe Mingyu really does like him. He hadn’t given the idea too much credence before now, not wanting to give in to what could be nothing—but he can’t deny it makes something squirmy kick in his stomach at the thought of it. Being desirable isn’t exactly high in his list of self-descriptives—not that it’s a huge goal for him, or anything. But attention from someone like Mingyu is never a bad thing.

He comes to sit nervously next to Jaehyun, who is just as ridiculously good looking as Mingyu, and is joined at his other side by Choi Yuna, who he’s never spoken a word to before despite them attending the same high school.

When they fall into an awkward silence, waiting for the last member of their team to join them, Mingyu starts bouncing his leg, looking restless. He glances up at Seokmin, and Seokmin smiles back at him. Mingyu seems surprised, raising his eyebrows and smiling in return.

When Park Soobin joins them at last, she sits next to Mingyu with polite greetings. Mingyu stops bouncing his leg, looking up at her in confusion.

“I thought our last team member was Soobin?” he says, and Soobin looks back at him.

“That’s me.”

“You got mixed up with Choi Soobin,” Seokmin tells him, happy to be helpful. When he’d heard the name on the list, he’d turned to make eye contact with Choi Soobin too, usually only a row or two behind him in class. But he’d already been looking over at his teammate Choi Yeonjun, and Seokmin had done a mental pause before remembering Park Soobin, who always sits at the back of the room.

“Ah,” Mingyu says, expression falling, which Seokmin thinks is cute. He also gets easily embarrassed about being wrong. Maybe they are a good match for each other.

Yuna takes on the designated leadership role pretty quickly, and Seokmin starts to take notes just for something to do with his hands, conscious he’s taking a few too many stolen glances at Mingyu. Thankfully, his team all seem to take their tasks seriously, and Soobin suggests a time and place for them all to meet and work on the project together.

They end up swapping Instagram handles to create a group chat. Mingyu officially joining his small pool of followers, only days after uploading the first set of strategically taken pictures, has him wondering again about Jeonghan’s power of divine intervention.

As they’re heading out of class, he ends up falling into step with Mingyu. Whilst writing his notes and watching Mingyu twitch nervously out of the corner of his eye, he’d had a crazy idea, and now he needs to work up the nerve to put it out there. If he wants to get to know Mingyu better, they need a more comfortable place to hang out than their lecture hall.

He pulls in a breath as the two of them reach the door. “Do you have any plans for the weekend?” he asks as they emerge into the throng of people. Soonyoung catches up to them—none of them have any classes after this, so he and Soonyoung usually end up going somewhere for food. Considering Soonyoung and Mingyu share a dorm room, it’s kind of amazing they’ve never been out somewhere with Mingyu before.

“Hm?” Mingyu says, at the same time Soonyoung slings an arm over Seokmin’s shoulders, excitable as ever. “No, not really. You?”

“This weekend is gonna be great!” he enthuses, squeezing Seokmin in his excitement. “It’s Seokmin’s birthday!”

“Oh, happy birthday! You got plans?”

“Bowling,” Seokmin says sheepishly. It’s not the huge birthday bash others have at his age, but he’s happy just going to the arcade with a few friends.

“Sounds nice!” Mingyu says, genuine. “It’s Vernon’s birthday this weekend too, but he doesn’t even want to celebrate. Doesn’t want the fuss, or something.”

“You guys should join us!” Seokmin blurts, amazed by the way the opening fell into his lap. For all the excuses to invite Mingyu along, he couldn’t have imagined sharing a birthday with Chwe Vernon would be one. “I don’t mind sharing the cake! He can’t go without celebrating!”

“Really?” Mingyu seems surprised by the invitation, but Soonyoung is already cawing over the idea.

“That’ll be so fun! Vernon seems really cool, I want to get to know him.”

“You don’t have to if he doesn’t want, but the offer is open,” Seokmin says, and they reach the doors where the Arts building opens leads outside, the dorm building looming opposite. Soonyoung and Mingyu live a different direction to him, so they stop still at the crossing there.

“Thanks,” Mingyu says, apparently touched. “I’ll do my best to bring him.”

“Great,” he says, a little breathless. He can’t believe that worked. “I’ll see you there, then.”

“We getting food?” Soonyoung asks, and Seokmin nods. “You want to join us for that, too?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Wish I could. But I’ll make it this weekend, yeah?”

“Great,” he says, as Soonyoung waves.

They split off to go in different directions. When they’re just barely out of earshot, Soonyoung turns on him, grabbing his arm and making a strange cooing noise.

“What?” he asks, and Soonyoung just grins, ear to ear, eyes disappearing with glee.

“Jeonghan told me,” is all he says. “He’ll be proud you made the first move!”

He giggles loudly when Seokmin groans, hiding his face with his hands.

-

The invite was a mistake.

He goes from being excited about his birthday party to incredibly nervous about it overnight. What if Mingyu doesn’t like it, or doesn’t get on with any of his friends? What if everyone hears about what’s going on from Jeonghan and starts teasing them on his birthday? What if he doesn’t know what to say to him, and the whole night is a disaster? What if Vernon resents Mingyu for dragging him out to celebrate someone else’s birthday on his birthday?

“You’re overthinking it,” Jeonghan tells him, standing at the end of his bed with his hands on his hips. Seokmin has been staring at the three different pairs of jeans on his chair, paralysed at the thought of choosing the right outfit.

“Yes,” he agrees. “Which is why I need you to pick what I should wear.”

Jeonghan picks up a pair of jeans and a t-shirt without a second thought, throwing them at him. “They all look the same anyway. Get dressed, let’s go!”

“Why am I doing this?” he moans, and Jeonghan starts to tug his shirt off over his head impatiently.

“Because it’s your birthday,” he says, tossing a small box into Seokmin’s lap. “Happy birthday.”

“What is this?” he says, struggling to pull on the new shirt without knocking the box off.

“Your present, duh.”

“You got me a gift?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Gifting me ‘your love’ isn’t a real present, Hyung.”

He turns the package over in his hands, finding where the top pries open, only to find a pair of small hooped earrings inside. Real silver, shiny and smooth.

“Thought I’d combine two into one,” Jeonghan says, voice cheeky, but eyes warm when he sits on the bed next to Seokmin.

When he’d first joined the university, the year after Jeonghan and Wonwoo and a different school to Seungkwan, he’d joined the performing arts society to try and make new friends. It’s where he’d met Soonyoung, and where he’d signed up to do his first proper singing recital.

Back in first year, the thought of getting up on stage and singing for a huge audience of people made him want to vomit. Everyone around him had told him not to worry, that he had an amazing voice, that he’d do well naturally.

But it wasn’t his skill that was the problem—it was his nerves. When he first started high school, he’d been so nervous he’d said his own name wrong to the school councillor. Too embarrassed to correct himself, she’d called him Dokyeom for the rest of his high school career.

He wasn’t good with nerves.

Jeonghan was the only one who had taken him seriously. But he hadn’t offered any words of advice—he’d simply taken Seokmin out for food, listened to his worries, then presented him with a pair of earrings. Small silver studs that had complimented his skin tone.

“They’re for you,” he’d said.

Seokmin had stared at them, uncomprehending. Jeonghan doesn’t often buy him gifts. “For me?”

“Wear them when you have your recital. In fact—” he’d plucked one out of the box he was holding—“wear one of them for your recital, and I’ll wear the other one. Then you’ll have to think about hearing yourself the way I hear you, and seeing yourself the way I see you. Just me, not anyone else in the crowd. I know you. Even if you mess it up, I’ll still think you’re good.”

“Hyung—” he’d spluttered, not sure whether to laugh or cry or to feel incredibly touched. “We’re going to look silly wearing one earring each.”

“Then you won’t be thinking about the performance, will you?” Jeonghan had grinned.

The things is—it actually worked. They’d made it a tradition of sorts—every recital he’s done, every semester, Jeonghan has bought a pair of earrings, split them between them, and they’d worn one each to the show.

The more his collection of mismatched earrings grows, the more his confidence has, too. He’s strong enough now that he doesn’t really need the earrings, but he’s too fond of the tradition to let it go.

“Thank you, Hyung,” he says, grabbing Jeonghan in a hug around the waist before he can move away. “You sure you won’t be too busy with exams for my next recital?”

“Nah,” Jeonghan shrugs. “I can’t miss it. Then the earrings won’t work.”

“Can’t have that,” Seokmin agrees, putting the box carefully on his bedside table.

-

He didn’t put the earring in before leaving the dorm—they’re for performances only. But somehow, the gift makes him feel more confident when he arrives at the bowling alley, his entire party of seven already waiting at the door. Seungkwan seems to be grilling Mingyu about something, and Seokmin anticipates again the very real possibility of Jeonghan having told everyone everything. Seeing Mingyu actually there makes him feel better, though—he’d half convinced himself he wouldn’t turn up.

“Have you even heard him sing?” Seungkwan is saying, Mingyu cowering at his look despite being a head taller than Seungkwan. Junhui, waiting nervously behind his boyfriend, looks like he’s weighing up the repercussions of stepping in. “Or are you just some random gay guy?”

“He doesn’t usually invite just anyone,” Wonwoo agrees, peering at Mingyu, fascinated.

“I don’t really know why I’m here, then,” Vernon says.

“Because it’s your birthday!” Seokmin says, making them all turn to face him on approach. “Happy birthday, Vernon!”

“Happy birthday!” Chan chirps from beside Wonwoo, though it’s not clear who it’s meant for.

“You didn’t tell us you’d made more friends?” Seungkwan says, tone accusatory.

“Mingyu is in my group project,” he says by way of explanation. “He’s Soonyoung’s roommate.”

“And we couldn’t let Vernon go without celebrating his birthday,” Soonyoung says, with a grin on his face that doesn’t match his words in quite the right way. “So here we are!”

Seungkwan clocks Soonyoung’s terrible bluff at the same time as Jeonghan, who says loudly: “And we’ll miss our slot if we wait out here any longer!” and proceeds to usher everybody into the bowling alley.

He knows he’s doomed from the start when Jeonghan has to be his saving grace.

“So this guy,” Seungkwan says to him in a low voice once Seokmin has taken his first throw, Mingyu just gone up to take his. “He’s horribly good looking.”

Seokmin turn to face him with big eyes. “Do we have to talk about this now? Your boyfriend is right there!” He gestures to Junhui, who’s peering around Seungkwan to watch Mingyu throw.

“What? He’s right?” Junhui says absently.

“Don’t use Junhui to get out of this conversation,” Seungkwan hisses.

“How about my birthday?” Seokmin says, pouting a little. “Can I get out of this conversation if it’s my birthday?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Seungkwan says, but then it’s Junhui’s turn to bowl, so he has to step up to stop him from picking the biggest, heaviest ball from the rack by mistake.

Seokmin takes his chance to escape to the bench. The only gap available is between Mingyu himself and Jeonghan, but it looks like a safe bet—Jeonghan is the last to bowl before Seokmin himself, and Mingyu’s turn is right after his. Seungkwan can’t get him here.

Only Jeonghan is in a steady conversation with Vernon on his other side. That leaves Seokmin to make conversation with Mingyu, and Mingyu alone.

“How are things going with the project work?” he asks after a minute of silence.

Mingyu cocks his head. “The project? Not going anywhere. Haven’t done anything yet.”

“Me neither,” he says, and the two fall into awkward silence again.

When Vernon gets up to take his turn, Jeonghan thankfully turns to the two of them. “No gift, Mingyu? Poor show, it’s his birthday!”

“Ah—sorry,” Mingyu stammers.

Seokmin hits Jeonghan as he sniggers. “Please ignore him. It’s Jeonghan’s life joy to tease. You don’t have to get me anything—none of us are very big gift-givers, anyway.”

“I got you something,” Jeonghan interjects.

“Yes, but it wasn’t really for my birthday, was it?”

“Of course it was! I gave it to you on your birthday!”

“But you gave it to me for my recital.”

“Recital?” Mingyu asks. “Is that what Seungkwan meant about singing?”

“Oh yes, Seokmin sings,” Jeonghan says before Seokmin has a chance to play it off. “You haven’t lived if you haven’t heard Seokmin sing. He’s like Mariah Carey’s long lost son.”

He’s suddenly feeling a lot more trapped between Jeonghan, who’s leaning over him to talk to Mingyu, and Mingyu’s big frame that he’s trying not to make too much contact with.

“I wouldn’t say that—”

“You have to come and see him perform, the next recital isn’t long away,” Jeonghan insists. “What is it, the week after next?”

“Yes,” Seokmin says weakly. “But it’s nothing special, really, I know so many people who perform at the recital. Soonyoung is doing a modern dance version of Blood, Sweat and Tears with Choi Soobin and Xu Minghao, I bet that will be way more interesting.”

“He is?” Mingyu asks.

“Yes,” he says, remembering a beat too late that Minghao is Mingyu’s recent ex. He refrains from face-palming—there’s no way Mingyu will be interested in coming now.

“Don’t talk yourself down,” Jeonghan scolds, even as Chan is prodding him. It’s his turn to bowl. “He’s the star of the show. Don’t tell Soonyoung I said that.”

“I’ll come,” Mingyu says, to Seokmin’s surprise. “Seems like I’ve been missing out.”

“Oh,” he says, and Jeonghan jabs him in the side before standing to take his turn. “Cool! I’ll send you the link for the tickets.”

He tanks the rest of his bowls, too busy thinking about more pressing matters. Like Mingyu attending the arts recital to see his performance. In less than two weeks.

So much for sitting where it’s safe.

Mingyu ends up winning their game, while the other four playing in the next alley conclude with Wonwoo’s win. The alley offers them a quick-fire game of Mingyu vs Wonwoo, and despite the odds, Wonwoo comes out the winner. Seokmin didn’t think he was skilled at anything that didn’t require a remote control.

They split off to wander around the arcade after that, Wonwoo and Junhui pairing up to geek out while the rest of them get competitive over the strength tester and racing each other on the Mario Kart simulator. Seungkwan hasn’t forgotten about his quest for information—Seokmin can see it in his eyes—but he doesn’t say anything in front of Mingyu, so the rest of the party doesn’t cause him too much stress. Just plenty of laughter, terrible scores at first-person shooters, and seeing Vernon grin wider than he thought possible thanks to the bucking horse in the corner.

The only other risky part of the night is this: not long before they head out to the restaurant together, Wonwoo pulls Chan into the photo booth, and the two come out with a cute photo strip that makes Wonwoo’s whole face light up. Jeonghan eyes it up after that, dragging Seokmin over like he won’t notice exactly what he’s doing.

“Mingyu!” he calls, with Mingyu only two machines away, watching Vernon and Junhui in the Jurassic Park simulator.

“Hm?”

“Look at this! We should try it out!” He grabs Mingyu’s arm, pushing him into the booth first, casting a wicked look at Seokmin before pushing him in after.

“Oh! Yep!” Seokmin says, squishing up to Mingyu in the small seating space. As much as he doesn’t want to be pressed against him any further, he wants to be in here alone with him much less. He uses his grip on Jeonghan to pull him in too, the three of them squashed up in front of the screen. “Good idea, Hyung!”

“Look, there are filters!” Mingyu is saying excitedly, leaning forward to select the animal ears on the screen. He and Jeonghan look at each other, challenging, a glint in Jeonghan’s eye. He smiles slyly, then leans in closer to Seokmin to press the big green GO button.

“Cheese!” he says happily, looking into the camera as the screen counts down from three. The filter has given Mingyu dog ears, Seokmin cat ears and whiskers, and Jeonghan bunny ears.

“Hey, let’s do this,” Jeonghan says as the second countdown begins, then leans in to kiss Seokmin’s cheek. Unfortunately, Mingyu is too busy changing the filter at the last second to notice. Seokmin feels himself getting warm as it just leaves Jeonghan smooching his cheek alone.

“Oh, I like this one,” Mingyu says, pouting cutely to suit the sparkly filter as the third picture takes. Seokmin looks over at Jeonghan, unable to stop the smile on his face as Jeonghan looks put-out at being ignored.

He giggles at the sight, but again Mingyu doesn’t notice, changing the filter to a Happy Birthday one. “Perfect!”

Jeonghan meets his eye, and they both laugh. He can tell this isn’t going the way Jeonghan pictured it, but that’s fine. Probably better than the alternative of Jeonghan getting his way.

When they get out of the booth to pick up the strip copies, Mingyu pouts down at them. “You guys weren’t even posing!”

Seokmin takes one of the strips and looks down at it. Other than the first picture, he and Jeonghan seem to be in their own world—Seokmin’s eyes are closed in embarrassment in the cheek smooch picture, and he’s looking at Jeonghan in the third, while Jeonghan looks unimpressed. They’re making eye contact and laughing in the last, where Mingyu is posing for the camera.

“Sorry,” he laughs. “We got distracted.”

He looks up at Jeonghan, who is looking down at his photo strip with a strange expression. It’s like he’s been caught unawares—like someone had poked a bruise then run away, leaving him vulnerable and stung.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, glancing up at Seokmin only to look away again.

“What for?” he asks.

“There you are,” Seungkwan says from behind them. “We’ve got to go to this meal, or we’re going to lose our booking.”

“Sure,” Jeonghan says, pocketing his strip and leading the way out with Seungkwan. “I’m not missing out on their lobster for anything.”

He doesn’t have time to think on it, after that—Chan comes up to him and starts chatting away, asking about his classes and projects and what he’s singing at his next recital. By the time they sit down at the restaurant, they don’t think any more about the arcade, too caught up in the array of food available.

But he does think about it later, lying in bed, on the precipice of sleep. Wonders what that look had meant—if anything at all.

-

Two days after Seokmin’s birthday, Mingyu sends him a message on Instagram, their only point of contact. It’s right after he uploads the third set of pictures from his photoshoot with Jeonghan, which Mingyu had liked, and Seokmin had promptly panicked about.

“He wants to meet up,” he tells Soonyoung as soon as he reads the first half of the notification. “Oh my God, Hyung, it says, ‘Do you want to go out on Friday…?’”

“On a date?” Soonyoung asks from where he’s sitting on the edge of the stage. He and Soobin are waiting for Minghao to arrive for their stage rehearsal. A few of the other singers and dancers are waiting around them in the auditorium seats, disgruntled that their rehearsal slots have been pushed back thanks to the delay. “Kim Mingyu asked you on a date? Seokminnie! You’re successful!”

He opens up the notification. The message reads, Do you want to go out on Friday to work on the group project? I know a great café with study booths Vernon recommended me

“Not on a date,” he announces, and Soonyoung hops off the stage to read over his shoulder.

“Study date!” he exclaims. “That’s almost a date!”

“Do you think?”

“Why would they call it a study date if it weren’t a kind of date?”

“Oh, God, you’re right. What’s the etiquette on a study date? Do I buy something for him? Do I text that I’m excited right before I go?”

“That’s too much,” a voice says from behind them. Xu Minghao approaches alongside the rows of chairs, gym bag in hand. “Sorry I’m late. Are we ready to start?”

“Don’t you think this sounds like a date?” Soonyoung asks, taking the phone out of Seokmin’s hands and shoving it in Minghao’s face, who squints at it.

Seokmin is mortified. He barely even knows Xu Minghao, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Soonyoung never knew Minghao and Mingyu were dating in the first place. He has no sense of social awareness at the best of times.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, putting his hand out for his phone back.

“It’s fine,” Minghao says, handing the phone back to Seokmin, but only after frowning at the screen. “As someone who knows Mingyu pretty well, it seems like he wants to talk with you about something important. He wouldn’t go out of his way to arrange something otherwise.”

Seokmin can’t explain the way his heart drops to the floor. That sounds awfully like the setting for a confession, and he’s suddenly not so sure he’s made any of the right steps at all. Does he want Mingyu to confess to him? Does he even like Mingyu back?

Soonyoung is making a long excited noise as Minghao just looks at Seokmin. “Are you in his class?”

Seokmin nods, looking back up at him. “There’s no chance this is just for studying together?”

Minghao’s mouth turns down like he seriously doubts it. “We’re still on friendly terms. He told me recently that he was interested in someone in his class.” He pats Seokmin’s shoulder gingerly. “Good luck.”

“On good terms?” Soonyoung asks, following Minghao up onto the stage. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

He stares back down at his phone. Minghao gives Soobin a quick kiss as he passes to put away his bag—that’s some new gossip for Jeonghan, he vaguely registers—and Seokmin is left to listen to his own panicking thoughts when Soonyoung trails after him.

They’re only interrupted when Soobin nervously asks, “Are you alright?”

“Me? I’m fine!” he says, in a way even he can hear isn’t convincing. “All fine. Never better.”

He takes a screenshot of the chat, sending it to Jeonghan with a long AAAAAH caption. Jeonghan texts back a string of laughter, which he can only hear as maniacal.

-

When Friday comes around, Seokmin ends up at Jeonghan’s door. It seems to catch him unawares, hair a mess, one of Seungcheol’s hoodies lopsided on his shoulders.

“You’re early,” he remarks, opening the door to let him in.

“I’m too nervous. Am I dressed okay?”

“Yes, you look handsome,” Jeonghan says, squinting at him. “Why are you worried? You already know they won’t care.”

“I’m worried he’s going to tell me—” Seokmin pauses. “What do you mean they? As in plural they?”

Jeonghan blinks. “Aren’t we still going to eat with Seungkwan and Junhui tonight?”

His mouth drops open. “That’s today?”

“Yes.” Jeonghan gives him a look like Seokmin is a small, endearing child. “Did you forget?”

“I thought it was next Friday,” he says, plopping down onto Jeonghan’s couch. “Oh, no. I’m so bad at this.”

“You’re going out with Mingyu now?” Jeonghan asks, sitting down next to him. Seokmin raises his head and realises Jeonghan’s work is laid out on the table, halfway through some notes.

“Sorry, I’m totally interrupting you—” he starts, but Jeonghan grabs him to keep him sat on the sofa.

“It’s okay, you can miss one week with the others. What are you worried Mingyu will tell you?”

“But I’m a terrible friend!”

Jeonghan shakes him slightly to get him to focus. “It’s fine! You just have to learn to manage when you get a boyfriend outside of our friendship group. Tell me what you’re worried about!”

“I’m worried Mingyu will confess to me!”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why are you worried about that? Isn’t that what you want?”

“I—well—” He’s not sure how to explain how panic-inducing that prospect feels. Is it scary because he’s afraid of disappointing people? He doesn’t know how it is he’s supposed to feel about Mingyu—it doesn’t feel like love, or even like like. “I have no idea what to say! Or what to do! What if he asks me out on a date? What if he tries to kiss me?”

“You say I like you too, Kim Mingyu, of course I will date you, let’s go out this weekend, and then you kiss him back.” Jeonghan says, like it’ll just be that easy. “Do you know how many people on campus would kill to be in your spot? I think just about every gay guy I know will be making voodoo dolls of you if you start dating Kim Mingyu.”

“You don’t make it sound so great.” He can’t explain why it doesn’t feel exciting. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks he just doesn’t like Mingyu that way. He’s a great guy, and undeniably good looking, but the thought of going on a date with him or making a move just makes him panic. He’s never dated for the sake of it before, and doesn’t have an interest in trying now. “I think I’m just nervous.”

“Then tell him you want to take it slow. If he’s decent, he’ll understand.”

“I’ve never been on a date before. Never kissed anyone. How slow can a normal person put up with?”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Jeonghan says softly. “Don’t let it hold you back. But if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“Do you think I should try?”

Jeonghan levels him with this look—mouth slightly open, eyes full of something he won’t quite say. Maybe he thinks Seokmin is being silly—Jeonghan has been on plenty of dates, after all. He has boys falling over themselves to go out with him, and he’s given plenty of them chances, even if they never last very long.

“I just want you to be happy with whatever you’re doing,” he says, reserved. “If you want to date, I’ll get you a date. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to go.”

Seokmin rubs his hands together, shaking his head. “No, I can’t stand him up. I’ll go and see what happens. Who knows? It might feel right when I’m there.”

Jeonghan nods. “Good luck, then. He’ll be good for you. If he leans in to kiss you, make sure to angle your head like this so you don’t knock noses.” He leans into Seokmin’s personal space, tilting his head and coming in closer as if to kiss him.

Seokmin reels back quickly, taken aback by the proximity. “Hey! We’re not the ones kissing!”

Jeonghan pulls back. “I know! I was just showing you!”

“You scared me!”

Jeonghan’s mouth is round and surprised. “What’s so scary about me?”

“I wasn’t planning on kissing you!”

“It’s not that bad!” Jeonghan grumbles, turning away from Seokmin to go back to his notes. “Go on your date then, have fun. Don’t come crying to me if the kiss is bad.”

“I won’t!” he says, thrown by how defensive Jeonghan is being. He’s usually the first to soften and apologise if they’re disagreeing on something. Maybe he’s just teasing him—but he seems a little too stung by his outburst, somehow.

“Bye, then!”

“Bye!”

He steps back out of Jeonghan’s dorm with a sinking feeling. Surely leaving the conversation on such a strange note is a bad omen. That wasn’t a proper fight, was it? Is Jeonghan really mad at him?

He wants to go back in and check with him, but he feels silly with his hand on the door handle again. If Jeonghan really is mad, he doesn’t want to make it worse. He leaves to meet Mingyu instead, willing himself not to panic, not to expect the worst. It’ll be fine.

So long as Mingyu doesn’t try to kiss him, that is. He really wasn’t paying attention to what Jeonghan was saying.

-

He’s sweating profusely by the time he arrives at the café and spots Mingyu, waiting for him with a mug of coffee in hand. He waves him down, and Seokmin seriously considers turning tail and running the other way.

“Hi,” he says as he sits, swallowing. “How are you?”

“Not good,” Mingyu says with a pout. “I need your help.”

“Oh? With the work?”

“The work?” Mingyu looks around himself as if expecting their group project work to magically appear. “No… I actually forgot my notes. I didn’t really want to study, to be honest.”

“Oh?” he says again, pitched.

“Yeah. You’re so nice, Seokmin. You’ve got such great friends, and you seem to get along with everyone. Is it okay if I tell you something? A secret? I really need to get it off my chest.”

This is it then. He has to break it to him gently—he’s just not ready to commit to anything right now. None of this feels right.

“Of course,” he squeaks.

“I want to ask out Soobin, but I have no idea if he likes guys,” Mingyu says.

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t know you well enough to like you like that,” Seokmin says in a rush.

He and Mingyu blink at each other from across the table. Seokmin’s brain does something akin to a double take.

“Wait, what?”

“What?” Mingyu echoes at the same time. “What are you talking about?”

“Soobin?” Seokmin says. “You like Soobin?”

“Yeah. You… don’t like me?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” he says, cheeks heating. “Erm—I thought you were going to confess to me. Ha ha! I’m kind of really relieved you didn’t. That was scary!”

“No,” Mingyu says, baffled. “Why did you think that?”

“Because you’ve been turning around and looking at me in class lately,” he says, trailing off as he realises how shallow that sounds. “And you didn’t do that before.”

“You noticed that?” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re not very subtle.”

“Oh. Well. Sorry, but I wasn’t looking at you.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and really means it. Mingyu not-confessing is the best news he’s had all week. “What were you doing, then?”

Mingyu looks away awkwardly. “Looking at Soobin,” he admits.

Seokmin draws out a sound of amazement. That makes so much sense. “Because he sits right behind me!”

“Right.”

“Wow. That’s great. Actually, about Soobin, I do know he likes guys! The other day I saw him kissing—”

He comes to an abrupt halt. He’d seen Soobin kissing Mingyu’s ex.

“Who?” Mingyu asks, leaning forward urgently. “Is he already with someone?”

“Erm,” he says, good mood quickly fading. He considers making a run for it a second time. “Just the other day… I saw him kissing… Xu Minghao?”

“Minghao?” Mingyu says loudly, planting his hands on the table and leaning back. “Minghao?”

“Yes…”

“Minghao…” Mingyu says, looking away wistfully. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows furrow, and his pout deepens. “I’m having confusing feelings about this.”

“Ha ha…” Seokmin says. He seriously does not want to get into this with Kim Mingyu. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Did you seriously not want to study, by the way?”

“What did you mean you don’t know me well enough to like me like that?” Mingyu asks abruptly. “You can want to go out with someone if you know them a bit. I came to your birthday party!”

“Yes, but I don’t know you really well. You know?”

Mingyu squints at him. “But why is that your reason? Surely having a boyfriend should be enough reason to reject someone. Unless you guys are open.”

“What?” he laughs. “I don’t already have a boyfriend.”

“You aren’t dating Jeonghan?”

Seokmin laughs again, high and surprised. “Jeonghan? No! What gave you the impression I was dating Jeonghan?”

“Like, everything you do. What was that in the photo booth if you’re not dating?”

“What was what?”

Mingyu gives him a look like a confused puppy. “You know! Whatever you were doing! Whenever I see you guys, you’re always together. Like how annoying couples can’t do anything separately. I thought you’d been together for ages.”

Seokmin gapes at him. Their friends have made dating jokes about the two of them before, sure, but they’re his friends, and they’re jokes. An outsider genuinely believing he and Jeonghan are dating is another thing entirely.

“We’re not together, never have been. Just been close friends for a long time. It was him who told me I had a chance with you!”

“Uh-huh,” Mingyu says, brow still furrowed like he doesn’t believe him. “So you just invited me to your birthday party? Because Jeonghan thought you should?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah, that’s kinda weird. You guys have a weird dynamic,” Mingyu says, putting his chin in his hand. He’s still looking moody. “Did Minghao figure out I was interested in Soobin, do you think?”

“Didn’t seem like it to me,” he says, squinting back at Mingyu. “Is it really weird to ask someone to your birthday party because your best friend wants you to get together?”

“If you don’t actually want to get together? Yeah. You guys have co-dependency issues.”

“Oh,” he says. Then pauses.

Oh.

-

He doesn’t see Jeonghan for several days after that, with his string of finals keeping him locked to his studies. They send a few messages, but it’s easy for Seokmin to hide behind their scarce communication for a while as he panics, spirals, and dissects everything he and Mingyu talked about over coffee.

Mingyu doesn’t like him? Great, problem solved, he doesn’t have to worry about that any more. He wishes him luck when it comes to the Soobin and Minghao situation, though.

He and Jeonghan are too co-dependant? Yep, okay, fair, that checks out. Jeonghan usually gets clingy and dejected if Seokmin can’t hang out with him at least once a week, and Seokmin tends to run every decision past Jeonghan, from washing his colours with his whites to whether or not he can be trusted to take care of a succulent. Maybe they do need to set some boundaries.

Mingyu thought he and Jeonghan were dating? That they’re always together to the point they genuinely come across as a couple? It’s not like he can’t see why Mingyu said that—they are together all the time, and Seokmin feels closer to Jeonghan than just about anyone in his life. For all he can talk about Jeonghan’s separation issues, Seokmin also feels glum and de-energised if he doesn’t get to hang out with him regularly.

Hanging out with Jeonghan is easy and fun in a way that’s unique to Jeonghan—he puts Seokmin at ease, despite all his teasing, jokes and insecurities. He understands Seokmin in a way no one else does. So when he thinks about Mingyu assuming that they’re together—he doesn’t hate it.

In fact, it’s quite exciting—nothing like the stress of thinking Mingyu was about to confess to him. The thought of being seen as Jeonghan’s boyfriend is… nice.

And the thing is, if it had been Jeonghan in that café with him—if he’d thought Jeonghan was about to confess—he’d be so excited he’d feel dizzy. He’d be anxious, definitely, nearly sick with nerves. But when he replaces the memory of Mingyu with a vision of Jeonghan confessing, it makes him feel giddy, puts an unwitting smile on his face.

Which is not what he thought he’d get out of that conversation with Mingyu. That he wants to be Jeonghan’s boyfriend.

The realisation comes with a lot to unpack. But his first concern, before he can tackle any of that, is that he’s not sure if Jeonghan is still mad at him for the small argument they’d had. Minimal contact with him leaves Seokmin more unsure of where they stand day by day, especially as he remains obsessed with the thought of him and Jeonghan as a couple.

In the days running up to the recital, he keeps taking the solitary earring out of the box and holding it, torn between hoping he’ll see Jeonghan there and hoping he’ll never have to face him again. He’s dying to get it all off his chest, but also afraid Jeonghan will hate the idea, and every hope in him will be crushed by his bony little hands. If Jeonghan were interested in him that way, he’d know, right? He would have said something!

Seokmin is afraid getting his hopes up high is only going to lead to them crashing down again, sooner or later. He’s not sure he’s ready to face that particular music.

-

The more he thinks about it, the more he works himself up. And the more he works himself up, the more nervous he feels for the show. He’s sung his song a million times, knows it in his sleep, but it’s never about the singing—it’s about doing a good job. It’s about making his friends proud, making himself proud, making Jeonghan proud enough to give him that affectionate look…

Which is part of the problem. If he’s being honest, this is the whole problem—that he has to face Jeonghan, all his new worries resting just under his skin, and sing this gushy Yang Da-il song while he’s there.

He’s up after Soonyoung’s dance performance, waiting in the dark wings, clutching his microphone and trying to watch the three of them instead of panicking. He can’t zone out right before going on stage, but he keeps fiddling with the one earring and wondering where the other one is. Is he here? He hasn’t heard from him today, and wouldn’t blame him if he chose to focus on his work instead of sitting through two hours of this show for six minutes of his friends.

He knows Mingyu is coming, too. God, he really hopes Jeonghan doesn’t speak to Mingyu.

When the audience claps, he stands, free hand clenched anxiously. The stage manager gestures for him to go on, and he steps out to a polite applause, the bright stage lights in his face.

He clocks Jeonghan immediately when he puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles, and it carries across the whole room. He can’t project his voice to save his life, but he waves wildly in support, catching Seokmin’s attention from the back of the room. Seokmin starts smiling hard, whilst also feeling like he might burst into tears.

The opening instrumental of the song seems to last for years, as he looks straight at Jeonghan and waits for his cue. When it comes, he closes his eyes and starts to sing.

Muscle memory takes over. It feels as if it’s done within seconds. When he opens his eyes again, Jeonghan has that look on his face—that affectionate look, the soft smile, the proud eyes. Seokmin’s chest suddenly feels incredibly heavy, like Jeonghan has looked straight into his soul and filled it with something—something that makes his heart want to beat right out of his chest.

He walks offstage in a daze. Soonyoung hugs him and tells him he did well—Seokmin can barely hear him. He needs to lie down, or to hide forever. Or at least until he’s figured out what he’s doing with all these feelings.

In what simultaneously feels like no time at all and forever, the show is over. They can hear it wrapping up as he waits for Soonyoung to get changed—they’re due to meet their friends outside now, and probably go somewhere for a meal.

He follows Soonyoung down the corridor on autopilot. When they reach the auditorium back doors, he can see through the windows that it’s long gone dark outside. Jeonghan, Joshua, Seungkwan, Wonwoo and Chan stand outside, waiting for them. Jeonghan is holding a bouquet of flowers.

His breath catches in his throat in a way that makes him feel sick. “Ah—toilet,” he says to Soonyoung, before taking a sharp turn into the next corridor.

“You couldn’t have gone before now?” he calls after him. Seokmin doesn’t look back, wandering blindly down the corridor, knowing there are no toilets back here. It’s all prop storage and recording booths—but there is another door leading outside.

Stepping out into the cool, quiet evening helps. His warm cheeks meet the outside, and he realises just how much he’s panting, worked up over nothing. It’s just Jeonghan.

Still, he comes to a stop for a minute, closing his eyes and letting himself calm down. It’s fine. He’s fine. It’s just Jeonghan—his best friend for life, his number one confidant. He knows how to be normal around him.

At least until he figures out how to tell him the truth.

“Seokmin?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin as the man in question pipes up from beside him—he opens his eyes to find Jeonghan standing at the corner of the building, looking at him with big eyes. They shine under the soft orange glow of the school’s streetlamp, and his one earring catches the light. He’s wearing it in his right ear, where Seokmin’s is in his left.

“Hyung!” he says, and sounds so not-normal he immediately wants to die. “Hi!”

“I saw you coming out here, are you okay? Soonyoung said you were going to the toilet.”

“I’m fine. Just needed a minute.”

“Oh? Are you stressing out? You did really well out there, you know! You’ll have to record your version of the song for me so I can listen to it whenever I want. I can’t go back to the original now.” He thrusts the bouquet out in front of him. “These are for you.”

As soon as he looks down at the flowers, it’s game over. He presses his lips together, willing himself not to cry, but one inquisitive, surprised noise from Jeonghan has him clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Seokmin?” Jeonghan says, stunned. “What is it?”

“Sorry,” he says, takes in a sharp breath but only ends up with tears rolling down his cheeks. “Sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Jeonghan says, coming in closer to put a hand on Seokmin’s back, rubbing it. “Hey, come here.”

He embraces him in a hug. Seokmin, absolutely mortified, emotion crashing through him in waves, takes the chance to hide his face in Jeonghan’s shoulder.

“What is it, hm? What’s wrong? You did really well!” Jeonghan says, smiling slightly into the words, but concern edges his words too. He can tell he’s thrown off by this—Seokmin hasn’t cried over a performance since he was eighteen and convinced he wasn’t good enough.

How to explain that it’s almost the same now—that he’s twenty-two, and still convinced he’s not good enough? Not at singing, but at everything else—he’s never kissed, never dated, never really liked someone like this before. He has no idea what to do.

His crush on Seungkwan when they were fifteen felt big at the time, felt like a Jupiter-sized secret he had to keep locked inside in case he drove Seungkwan away. But this—the overwhelming feeling that Jeonghan is special, that he knows him like no-one else does or ever will—this is something that could actually ruin him if he broke it. He can’t lose Jeonghan.

He doesn’t want to tell Jeonghan the truth only to have him awkwardly reject Seokmin—he can’t think of anything worse. But he can’t keep it from him either. That would never last very long, both because Jeonghan can read him like an open book and because he’s got the worst poker face in the world.

So either way, he’s doomed.

“Tell me,” Jeonghan says gently into his ear, pulling back and putting the bouquet down on the steps behind them. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

Maybe Mingyu was right, and he should stop doing whatever Jeonghan tells him without question.

“I realised I’m in love with you,” he blurts out. “And I can’t stop thinking about it, and I feel silly for thinking like that when you’re my best friend but I also feel stupid for not realising it before. I really, really like you Hyung, and I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you feel awkward, and we don’t have to talk about this ever again, but I’m really terrible at keeping secrets and it’s really been weighing me down and I haven’t even seen you and I saw you just now and—I panicked, I just panicked, I don’t know. Sorry for crying on you. Sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you now, but—I’ve just been scared.”

Jeonghan is wide eyed. “Me? But… I thought you liked Mingyu?”

“I don’t like Mingyu like that,” he says with a sniff. “I don’t think I ever did. I just said he was handsome and then you tried to set me up with him, and the longer that went on the more I realised I didn’t want a date with him. Not at all.”

Jeonghan quirks an eyebrow. “But you do want a date with me?”

Seokmin groans. “Don’t! Don’t tease me about it, I know I’m being silly. I’m sorry. Can we forget I ever said it?”

Jeonghan’s smile grows, lights up his face, crinkles the skin by his eyes. He giggles, really giggles like a schoolgirl, turning away from Seokmin to hide his face. “Wow. I never thought you’d say that. Me?”

“Yes, you!” He feels a bit put out by Jeonghan’s reaction. Is he really laughing at his intense emotional distress? “Please don’t mention this to the others.”

“Why? What if I want to go on a date with you?” Jeonghan says, crossing his arms. “Then we’ll have to tell them. You want to lie?”

“Hyung. I want to go on a date-date with you. Like a boyfriend date. I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too!” Jeonghan says, with a huge grin on his face. “I’ve liked you for years, but you never seemed interested. Do you really like me? Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” he asks, flabbergasted. “Are you sure? You like me? For years?”

“I’ve never been surer!” Jeonghan says, picking up his bouquet again. “Look! I brought you flowers! Do any of your other friends bring you flowers?”

He looks down at the flowers, reaching out to take them. He lifts them so he can smell them, and the soft petals brush his face. Abruptly, he laughs into them, then looks up at Jeonghan.

“Only you,” he says, and the waves inside him crash into a crescendo of affection for his best friend, his flowers, and their matching earrings. “Do you want to ditch the others for food?”

“As much as I would love to do that, Seungkwan will kill us. My last final is tomorrow afternoon—we can go out after that? Talk this through?”

He looks nervous for the first time, with no bouquet to occupy his hands, sticking them in the pockets of his coat. Seokmin can’t stop smiling—he can’t believe this is a real conversation that’s happening. “Tomorrow. Okay! I can wait until then.”

“You sure? You look like you’re about to explode.”

“I’m sure,” he laughs, moving forward to hug Jeonghan again. He comes in gladly, clutching him and giggling again into Seokmin’s ear.

“Hey!” Chan’s voice says, and Seokmin leans out of the hug to find him approaching them from around the corner. “What are you doing? The rest of us are going to freeze to death out here!”

“We’re coming,” Jeonghan says, taking Seokmin’s hand in his and leading him back towards their friends, natural as anything.

Holding hands isn’t something unusual for them—but it feels even more special now, novel by virtue of his newfound feelings. Jeonghan squeezes, and Seokmin squeezes back, and they share a secret, knowing look as they re-join their friends.

-

On their first date, Seokmin insists on getting timeline of Jeonghan’s feelings, and Jeonghan dodges the question the relentlessly. But he gathers that Jeonghan has liked him for years, truly been half in love since the start of University. He’d always assumed Jeonghan hasn’t really been interested in seeing other people, because if he’d wanted to date someone, who in their right mind would say no to him? But when he looks at the situation objectively, everything falls into place. Even if he still can’t quite believe Jeonghan likes him. Him!

Jeonghan seems to feel the same, as they also ask each other over and over if they’re sure, really sure they want to do this, if they’re ready to take the leap from friendship into more than friendship. Then they figure out that not that much will change. They already go out together, spend all their time together, hold hands, and message each other every day.

The crux of it comes down to them. And they’ll figure the rest of it out together.

They wander around the mall after their meal, Seokmin feeling like he might just float away if not for Jeonghan’s hand swinging his, the two of them giggly over nothing. Jeonghan eventually leads them back into the arcade they visited for his birthday, so that Seokmin can have another go at the claw machines he missed last time. And for his own reasons, of course.

“Let’s go in here,” he says, leading them towards the photo booth. Seokmin gets a strong sense of déjà vu.

“We already did this the other week!”

“Yes, but I can’t crop Kim Mingyu out of a photo strip,” Jeonghan says, and Seokmin laughs.

“You know I never liked him, right? He never even liked me! And you were the one who set us up in here last time!”

“That’s why I’m setting you up in here again, but with me,” Jeonghan says, tapping the screen to pull up the same filters as before. “What was all that about if he doesn’t like you?”

“Oh, I haven’t even told you! Remember how I said Xu Minghao is with Choi Soobin now?”

Their first photo starts counting down. “Yes?”

“Well, Mingyu fancies Soobin. He sits right behind me in class. He was going to ask him out.”

Jeonghan looks around at him, delighted scandal on his face. The first picture takes, and they both laugh.

“Okay, let’s do this properly,” Seokmin says, putting his hand up to form a heart with Jeonghan.

“Now that would be an interesting trio,” Jeonghan says, smiling sweetly at the last second before the second picture takes.

“Let’s not talk about them,” Seokmin says, readjusting on his seat to face Jeonghan better. “Come here.”

As the third countdown starts, he leans in to kiss Jeonghan’s cheek, the way Jeonghan had done for him the last time.

Jeonghan reaches around to hold his arm as he does, and when he pulls away his expression is soft and shy. So cute.

“Last one?” Jeonghan says, pouting his mouth as if for a kiss, voice light so that Seokmin can take it as a joke if he wants to.

He doesn’t want to.

He leans in and kisses Jeonghan back as the last picture takes, and Jeonghan smiles against his mouth, taken by surprise. Then they kiss again, despite the screen declaring they can take their photo strips. Then again, Seokmin leaning in so much they nearly fall out of the booth.

When they finally push out into the arcade again, giggling over their own little, not-so-subtle secret, Jeonghan picks up both strips. Seokmin is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

When he looks down at the pictures, he sees them. The way they’ve always been, but also starting something new.

“Hey,” Jeonghan says, looking at Seokmin with warm eyes. “You’re still sure about this, right?”

“I’m sure,” he says, with more confidence than he’s ever had in his life. “Really, really sure.”

“Me too,” Jeonghan says, their hands clasping together again. “Me too.”