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Mingyu may be a fan of hockey, sure, but he’s never actually made it to a professional game. He’s not sure why, if he’s honest, having been to other professional sports games a fair amount; basketball, baseball, football, even soccer. Hockey, however, the only time he ever even managed to end up at a rink was to cheer on some of his friends that played in high school.
So when Seokmin came to him with two tickets to the last home game of the season, of course Mingyu jumped at the opportunity.
Which means you can’t blame him for not knowing there was a fucking ceremony to expect, let alone one that involves the players getting half naked (if the title is anything to go by, at least. Mingyu prays that it isn’t).
It’s part way through the game before the ceremony gets brought up again, a stoppage of play giving Seokmin some time to fuck with Mingyu without having to worry about missing anything on the ice. Plus, it removes anything else for Mingyu to pretend to be distracted by other than Seokmin’s teasing.
“Hey,” Seokmin starts, and Mingyu knows immediately that that tone does not promise good things for him. When he turns to look at him, Seokmin’s smiling in a way that promises pain.
“Hi?”
Seokmin’s grin only widens and Mingyu feels himself break into a cold sweat. It’s made more uncomfortable with the cold air of the arena around them.
“You do remember that the winners of the raffle are gonna be called soon, right?”
Mingyu blanches and Seokmin laughs at him, knocking against him jovially. The asshole finds this far too funny.
“It’s not like we’re gonna win.” The odds are insanely stacked against them - they only have two tickets, one each, and there’s certainly more than half the people in this arena who entered. If he cared enough to do math, he’d figure out the actual odds, but instead one in a million sounds about right.
Seokmin, the bastard, just hums smugly.
But the players are coming back on the ice and his attention is drawn away, the raffle long forgotten in his mind. He almost survives the night like that, happy to watch the game with his best friend. The crowd is great around him, and every time the entire arena boos he can’t help but to lose his mind laughing. When they chant bullshit, it’s even better. It’s a great night, truly, and memories that Mingyu will cherish forever.
Except, when they announce the winners for the Shirts Off Their Backs Ceremony, the lovely name Mingyu and his seat number are displayed cheerily, practically winking at him.
Seokmin, the bastard, ends up in stitches as the crowd around him erupts in cheers.
Mingyu spends the rest of the game anxious about this ceremony, much to Seokmin’s delight. Well, it’s not malicious delight, of course, because though Seokmin may be a little shit he isn’t actually an asshole. But the delight is clear with how many playful looks and elbows and shoulders get tossed his way.
Mingyu is going insane, and his best friend isn’t helping.
But even if he is a teasing asshole, Seokmin isn’t actually mean-spirited. When Mingyu’s hands start visibly shaking and he’s sure he’s as white as a ghost, Seokmin intertwines their fingers and gives them a squeeze. Seokmin’s offering him a kind smile when he turns to look at him, teasing nowhere to be seen in his expression.
“I can be Mingyu for the night if you need me to be.”
Mingyu loves his best friend. He loves him more than anything in the world, and with that thought in mind he squeezes Seokmin’s hand.
“I can manage. Just, can you somehow make it near the ice? I think I’ll need moral support and I’m not sure I can see you this far away.”
Seokmin squeezes his hand again, and most of Mingyu’s nerves take a hike.
“But should we be praying that you get Lee’s jersey or praying that you don’t?”
Aaand there’s the teasing again that Mingyu knew he wouldn’t be able to escape. It’s not his fault that Lee, or Jihoon as he calls him when Seokmin isn’t around to tease him about it, is as hot as he is. Plus, he’s insanely talented, loves to chirp and does it well, the little shithead, and as far as Mingyu knows he’s single and available and into guys. Total package, and no homewrecking required? What else was he supposed to do besides decide that this man is his favorite player and the star of his fantasies? Be normal about it? Pass.
“Honestly,” Mingyu manages eventually, no longer looking at Seokmin as they both watch the game below, “I don’t even know.”
Seokmin squeezes his hand again. Mingyu squeezes it back.
A woman appears behind them as the game draws to a close, her smile polite and her official arena garb explaining who she is before she can even open her mouth. Seokmin’s hand is in Mingyu’s in a moment, and Mingyu can only be filled with that much more love for his best friend.
“Mingyu Kim?” She asks, her voice kind even if it is sort of curt. Somehow, Mingyu manages to nod all the same. “I’m here to take you down to the ice.”
Before Mingyu can even stand, Seokmin’s launching into a plea, his flair for the dramatics coming out strong.
“Ma’am,” he starts, and Mingyu already knows he’s gone for the whole hog, “I don’t mean to be a sob story, but his mom got sick and couldn’t make it tonight. She’ll be heartbroken to hear that she missed this, and I was just hoping if it’s of no trouble to you, is there a possibility for me to get down there to get a video?” Seokmin points towards the plexiglass, making sure that his eyes stay wide and doe like and his expression stays sincere and hopeful. Mingyu knows within a moment that the woman will cave.
When she sighs softly, she practically confirms it.
“You just wanna get to ice level?”
“Yes ma’am, that’s all. His mom already missed the game, and with how sick she seemed she can’t still be awake.”
The woman sighs again and shakes her head, gesturing for both of them to stand.
“Normally I wouldn’t do this,” she starts, her voice still soft even if it is a little conspiratorial, “but I can’t see why this would hurt anybody. I’ll make sure you get a good spot to film from.”
“Thank you so much,” Seokmin instantly says, only for her to brush it off. Mingyu decides it’s not even worth it to tease him about the manipulation; to have Seokmin that much closer will be such a relief to him.
The woman makes good on her promise and helps Seokmin get by an usher and even get an escort down to the glass, their polite demeanors and half-true sob story sealing the deal. See, Seokmin hadn’t exactly been lying, Mingyu’s mom is sick. With a simple head cold that one of her students must have given her, but she’s still sick. Besides, she definitely will get a kick out of the video, even if it was unlikely for her to even know that this was even happening.
Mingyu’s nerves come back tenfold when he and Seokmin are split apart, and he has to physically force himself to breathe as he joins the other winners. His favorite team won their last home game of the season, the first game he’s ever even been to, and he even gets a jersey out of it. He knows that he should be more grateful than he is nervous, but somehow he’s still half a step away from sprinting out of there, jersey be damned.
Reassuring texts from Seokmin flood in and help to ease the pain in his chest, and somehow, Seokmin and his practiced internal mantra manage to talk him down. He’s not exactly calm, no, but instead Mingyu manages to find a break in his anxiety to instead allow excitement to fill his bones. He gets to be on the ice. He gets a jersey.
Mingyu feels like the luckiest man alive.
A different woman walks between all the winners, handing them each sharpies and an unmarked white manila envelopes with a stern no peeking tacked on. She shows them all which way to hold them too, so that way the name stays upright, and reminds them again a few minutes later when one of the kids who won has to ask. Mingyu spends his time studying the envelope rather than anything else, and before he knows it they’re all ushered onto the carpet rolled out into the middle of the ice.
The team is less than 20 feet away like this, all hanging around the bench. It’s clear that some of them are just chatting and others are jostling each other playfully, and when Mingyu’s eyes catch on Jihoon he has to force himself to look away.
Sure, everyone knows that Jihoon is short. He’s the shortest guy in the league, but he more than makes up for it with speed and crazy amounts of skill. But seeing him on the ice, a shit eating grin spread across his face, somehow his presence feels as large as the arena.
Mingyu hopes he doesn’t have Jihoon’s name in his hands.
Some other part of him is praying that he does.
The main announcer begins his speech and Mingyu searches the crowd, feeling a little bit of the tension between his shoulders drain out when Seokmin smiles at him, phone held up in one hand and the other waving almost maniacally. Mingyu waves back and finds it easy to laugh when Seokmin starts over exaggeratedly pointing at the phone in his hand and then smiling widely, pointing at that next. He’s definitely taking pictures to send to Mingyu’s mom, and Mingyu is filled with love for his best friend once again.
But then the announcer introduces the first person and asks him to open his envelope and Mingyu’s attention is gone from Seokmin immediately. It’s a man, probably Mingyu’s dad's age, and he’s delighted as he pulls his name from the envelope. The defenseman who was called skates over with a smile, tugging his jersey off over his head before he greets the guy at the end of the carpet.
Next is another man, similar in age and a sunny smile. He pulls out the name of the assistant captain, and cheers suffocate the arena. The player smiles and the guy looks ecstatic, handing over a sharpie as Mingyu can tell he rambles on.
Two kids are next, girls that can’t be much older than twelve grinning at the camera. They pull the name of a player that the younger one is wearing the jersey for, and their cheers of glee are distinguishable even with the crowd around them cheering. For a moment, Mingyu even forgets his nerves, so wrapped up in the other winners’ glee, until a thought strikes him almost dead.
They’re more than halfway through the line, and Jihoon’s name has yet to be pulled.
He’s sweating.
But Seokmin just gives him a thumbs up and a smile, doing large hand gestures to imitate deep breaths. Somehow the little thing manages to get him to smile and breathe, reassured in a way that he hadn’t expected possible.
The woman two away from him is introduced and Mingyu finds a new form of panic brewing inside of him. The player called took off his jersey as he skated, as they all seem to do, except there was one main difference.
This guy doesn’t have a t-shirt on under his pads.
His mind starts to wonder if Jihoon wears anything under his jersey before it sputters and dies immediately.
The teenager next to him is introduced and goes and Mingyu finds himself sweating again, especially when the name pulled still isn’t Jihoon. There are only like four people after him (admittedly, Mingyu is too panicked and overwhelmed to be able to count currently) so the odds are only growing in his favor. But his panic is cut short when the announcer finally says his name and hometown over the loudspeaker.
Somehow Mingyu gets his limbs to cooperate and his sweaty fingers to get a grip on his paper, pulling it out and freezing when he takes a peek at the paper, the announcer’s voice deafening over head.
“Number 17, Jihoon Lee!”
Mingyu doesn’t even have to look to know that Seokmin is losing his mind laughing.
But Mingyu’s brain manages to reboot and reminds him he’s on camera and being broadcasted to thousands if not millions, and somehow he manages to check himself and make his smile genuine. He finally sees Jihoon skating towards him, his shoulders back and what has to be a smirk playing on his features. That’s right, a smirk. Jihoon, Lee Jihoon, his favorite player and celebrity crush, is smirking. At him. Either God is cruel or Mingyu is clearly one of God’s favorites.
But he doesn’t have too much time to think about that anymore, because Jihoon is tugging off his jersey.
And Jihoon doesn’t wear a shirt under his pads.
Mingyu could faint.
“Mingyu, right?” Jihoon says to him (to him!!!!!) once he’s within hearing distance of Mingyu.
“Yeah,” Mingyu somehow manages to choke out, sure that he’s blushing bright red. Jihoon’s smirk simply widens until it’s practically a cheshire cat grin.
“It’s nice to meet you Mingyu.”
“Um, you too,” he somehow manages to get out as Jihoon plucks the sharpie from his limp fingers. The jersey ends up in Mingyu’s hands then and he has to focus on breathing, somewhere in the back of his head clocking that the person next to him is being announced. Even despite how he’s smiling, Jihoon’s expression takes on a focused edge as he assesses his jersey for what Mingyu assumes is the best place to sign.
“You played really well,” Mingyu gushes when Jihoon bites the sharpie cap and yanks it to uncap it. Between that and the proximity and Jihoon’s almost full shirtlessness, Mingyu can’t manage to police his thoughts or words in the way he would like. But he figures that wasn’t the worst thing he could’ve said, and he thanks his lucky stars for that.
Jihoon clearly finds it beyond amusing, however, and when he looks up at Mingyu, grinning with the pen cap between his teeth and his sweaty bangs hanging low into his eyes, Mingyu feels like he’s about to have an aneurysm.
“Thanks.” And then, because clearly Jihoon is a menace, he winks. Mingyu wants to scream.
“Do you, um,” he starts and fails, looking to Seokmin with what he’s sure is panic in his eyes. Seokmin motions for him to breathe once more and Mingyu somehow manages it, turning back to Jihoon in time for the other man to speak.
“You’ve been a fan for a while?”
Mingyu just nods, not trusting his voice.
“Who’s your favorite player?”
Mingyu feels himself blush even harder, but he somehow manages to keep his eyes on Jihoon and not choke. If you ask him, he deserves a fucking medal.
“Is it cringy to say you?”
Jihoon laughs, like really laughs, his head thrown back and glee clear on his features. It makes Mingyu’s gay heart do a stutter step, and suddenly Mingyu has half the mind to hand him his number. But Mingyu isn’t somehow suddenly shameless or even less shy, so he manages to keep himself contained by some miracle.
Jihoon doesn’t seem to subscribe to that thought himself. “Are you doing anything tomorrow?”
This time Mingyu does choke. It takes him a few moments to recover, but eventually he manages what he’s sure is a shaky smile. Jihoon’s still looking at him in a way that makes him feel like he’s on fire, makes his insides itch.
“No?”
Jihoon’s grin only widens. He moves to tug on the envelope in Mingyu’s hand, shooting him yet another wink as he frees it from Mingyu’s loose and shaky hold. “You’re here with a friend?”
“Yeah, um, he’s over there,” Mingyu says as he points towards where Seokmin is standing, Jihoon returning Seokmin’s over enthusiastic wave and laughing when Seokmin points frantically at his phone.
“I think he wants us to get a picture.”
Mingyu didn’t know it was possible for his face to burn even more. “We can do that, once you’re done.”
Jihoon grins back, turning back to the paper in the hand. He signs the paper with his name and number on it easily before he sort of stares at the envelope for a few moments, his expression hardened in a way that has Mingyu beginning to worry. After those few moments Jihoon suddenly is moving, scribbling something on the inner flap of the envelope and handing it back to Mingyu with a sly grin. “Be careful with that envelope, yeah?”
Mingyu goes to nod, more confused than not, until he realizes that there are numbers scribbled there. Jihoon just gave him his number. He could faint.
Jihoon must see how his brain short circuits because he laughs again, this time a little softer than before. His smile is sweet too, and gently he reaches out and gives Mingyu’s arm a squeeze. “Do you wanna take a picture before you’re kicked out, then? We could do a selfie or I could ask one of the guys to take it.”
Somehow Mingyu manages to make his brain work again, sure that his smile is shaky as he looks back at Jihoon. “Whatever,” he says as he digs out his phone, bobbling it before he inevitably drops it. Jihoon looks endeared as he laughs, shaking his head and picking up the device. It gives Mingyu a view of his back that he didn’t need (but he greatly appreciates), thank you very much.
“Hold up the jersey,” Jihoon tells him easily, opening Mingyu’s camera app immediately and making a funny face when he sees himself. “Sorry, I look pretty gross,” Jihoon laughs, toying with his sweaty bangs.
“You look pretty hot.” The words are out before Mingyu can even think about them, and Jihoon easily just raises an eyebrow in response. His smile is teasing and even a touch hungry, if Mingyu had to put a name to it, which has him sweating once more.
“Yeah?”
Mingyu can’t manage any words. He’s not surprised to see that his face is cherry red on his phone’s screen when he looks at it. But Jihoon takes pity on him once more and just laughs, shuffling a little bit until he can get himself, Mingyu, and the jersey all lined up in the shot. Somehow he manages it just as they’re about to kick the winners off the ice and the players go back down the tunnel, and Jihoon goes as far as to slide his phone into his back pocket for him.
Mingyu is about to combust, he swears to every god above.
“Text me,” Jihoon says softly before he taps at Mingyu’s chest, laughing as he skates back to where a few players seem to be waiting for him at the entrance to the tunnel. Mingyu watches as they jostle him and even ruffle his hair, all the teasing touches met with retaliating punches. But Jihoon looks back and winks at him before he disappears, and Mingyu thinks his heart is going to give out.
Seokmin laughs at him their entire ride home. Mingyu can’t even blame him.
🏒
Overthinking is second nature to Mingyu.
He and Seokmin only made it home from the game line twenty minutes ago, enough time for him to shower and change before he flopped on his bed. The signed jersey is on a hanger and hanging over his door frame until he figures out how he wants to display it - there’s no hope that he’ll ever really be able to wear it; despite Jihoon’s solid and impressive build and the fact that his pads have to fit underneath the jersey, there is still the issue of the height difference between them. It’s an unfortunate truth that he and Jihoon can’t share a size. (Or is it, part of him wonders, knowing that the jersey must be soaked with dried sweat. He’d probably want to wash it before he wore it, and with the sharpie signature on the number, he can’t really do that.)
But Mingyu is agonizing over what to send when there’s a knock on his door, Seokmin leaning against the doorframe as he towels at his hair.
“You send it yet?”
Mingyu huffs out a sigh, starfishing on his bed as he makes pathetic noises. “No,” he whines, and Mingyu doesn’t even have to look to know that Seokmin is rolling his eyes at him.
“He gave you his number, Gyu. Pull it together and just send him something line ‘it’s Mingyu please fuck me into next Friday.’”
Mingyu throws a pillow at Seokmin, somehow managing to nail him square in the face. Karma, Mingyu thinks smugly as Seokmin makes offended noises before Mingyu himself is pelted with the pillow.
“I’m serious though, Gyu, just send him something simple. He asked you if you were doing anything tomorrow, right?” Mingyu nods even as he continues to stare at his ceiling. “Just ask him if he wants to get coffee or something.”
Seokmin walks away then, but his words are still bouncing around in Mingyu’s head.
Coffee. He should be able to handle coffee.
Jihoon ?!?!?
Hey it’s Mingyu
Do you wanna get coffee tomorrow or smt?
Name where
Mingyu feels himself blanch before his cheeks burn, and he has to take four deep breaths before he can even think about that message.
I mean I don’t wanna make you have to hike anywhere super far or anything
Eh
I have a car and no practice idc
Oh okay
In that case have you ever been to Junnie’s?
… where is it i think i mightve
Downtown by the rink actually
Oh yea ive def heard of it
There then?
Sure
You mind if we meet at like 11? I dont plan on getting my ass outta bed early
Works for me :)
See you then Mingyu
Have a good night
You too~
And with that, Mingyu rolls over and screams into his pillow.
🏒
Somehow, Mingyu manages to bully Seokmin into giving him a ride to Junnie’s the next day. It actually wasn’t even all that hard, really all he had to do was ask him three times and each a little more desperate than the last, before he caved. Besides, when he pointed out that riding with his best friend would help ease his anxiety more than a subway car full of strangers, Mingyu knew that Seokmin couldn’t even try to fight that.
Mingyu has a little more time to worry about his appearance now that he doesn’t have to worry about the curses that follow him on public transportation. He’s scrutinizing himself in the mirror, Seokmin sprawled on Mingyu’s bed with a bag of chips tucked into his ribs as he calls out his own opinions. If Mingyu didn’t love him, he’d beat his ass.
“Either put on the jeans that make your ass look insane or the ones that are so ripped they’re barely pants at all.”
Mingyu pauses at the suggestion and thinks about it, the pair of jeans in his hands forgotten as he turns to Seokmin.
“Are you trying to get me laid?”
Seokmin shrugs. “Should I be?”
“Honestly, I dunno,” Mingyu mumbles as he refolds the jeans in his hands - cute but not the most comfortable.
“Don’t worry about that,” Seokmin starts as he clambers off Mingyu’s bed and to his closet, pawing around for what he’s looking for. “Go say hi to Jun, get a fuckin’ stellar latte, and see if you guys hit it off outside of the arena lights.” Seokmin turns to him then, handing him a little stack of clothes. When Mingyu looks a little closer, he sees that it’s a plain black t-shirt and his most comfortable pair of jeans. “And if it’s brutal, just text me and I’ll come pick you up. We can grab ice cream and call Minghao and see if he’ll curse him to hell and back.”
Mingyu laughs at the thought of Minghao cursing someone like Jihoon, and when Seokmin grins victoriously he knows that was exactly what the other man was going for. Smiling all the while, Mingyu clasps Seokmin’s shoulder before he’s squeezing it gratefully.
“Thanks Seok.”
“Don’t mention it,” Seokmin brushes off, waggling his eyebrows as he starts to leave the room. “But hurry up, we gotta leave in like 5 if you wanna be on time.” And with a wink, Seokmin’s gone and leaving Mingyu cursing alone in his underwear.
Mingyu gets dressed with what Seokmin handed him and runs a hand through his hair a few times to try and tame it. It’s longer than he’d usually let it get, but seeing as Seokmin was right and it’s already 10:48, he really doesn’t have time to clean it up in any way. Once the flyaways are mostly dealt with and the other stubborn ones are staying closer to the rest of his hair, Mingyu grabs his phone and wallet and rushes out towards the front door.
Seokmin’s standing next to the door, his converses already on and keys in one hand as he texts with the other, but he looks up when Mingyu rushes in. “You ready?”
“Boots and keys,” is all Mingyu says, but Seokmin understands his curtness for what it is and grabs Mingyu’s keys from the hook. By the time he’s all laced up Seokmin already has the door open, his smile soft as Mingyu rushes out behind him.
“You look good,” Seokmin says softly as he locks the door, smiling at Mingyu even as the younger man fumbles with everything he’s holding.
“Really?”
“You do.”
Mingyu smiles even as he feels his cheeks heat. Seokmin huffs fondly and smacks at his chest as they walk out together, and once more Mingyu is beyond grateful for his best friend.
He’s even more grateful when Seokmin holds his hand the entire drive over.
Jihoon ?!?!?
I’m pulling up now, do you want me to order for you?
Dw i already grabbed us a table
“Oh,” Mingyu says unintentionally when he reads the message blinking up at him. Seokmin just squeezes his hand in a silent question before he has to take his own back to turn. “Um, Jihoon is already there. He got us a table.” When Seokmin can finally look at him fully without risking their lives, his grin is shit eating.
“Oh really?”
“Please shut up.” And to his credit, Seokmin does. But he doesn’t manage to do anything about the shit eating grin, the bastard.
Seokmin parks the car and turns it off, surprising Mingyu when he moves to get out. Mingyu’s confusion must be visible though, because Seokmin just raises an eyebrow.
“What? I want a coffee.”
Well there’s no contesting that, so Mingyu steps out of the car and bites back his shivers. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but it is far too cold out for just a t-shirt. But Mingyu knows that he looks insanely attractive even if it’s just a plain black shirt, so he figures that it’s worth it to be cold.
Together he and Seokmin make their way into Junnie’s, surprisingly no line to be found. Jun smiles at them from behind the counter, and though Mingyu loves Jun within an inch of his silly sweet life, he’s admittedly distracted. Instead he’s focusing on searching the tables around them, pausing at the sight of shaggy hair facing away from him. A latte is pressed into his hand as he continues to squint at the man, and when Mingyu turns he sees both Seokmin and Jun trying to hold back their laughter.
“I’m pretty sure he’s the guy that you’re looking for,” Jun confirms with an overzealous wink.
“You’re both insufferable,” Mingyu mutters as he leaves, latte in hand, and both of them burst out in laughter that’s loud enough to call the attention of the entire shop. The plus side is that the shaggy, fluffy haired man turns and confirms that it is indeed Jihoon.
And besides, the smile that Jihoon shoots him immediately makes any embarrassment worth it.
“Hey,” Mingyu greets as he slides into the seat across from Jihoon, trying to ignore the fact that he’s pretty sure that Jihoon was just checking him out.
“Hey yourself.” Jihoon’s hair is fluffier than it was last night, dry now and presumably free of sweat. It still hangs into his eyes, but the waves and fluffiness of it makes him look a lot softer than he did last night. He also was actively being a menace and playing his ass off last night, so Mingyu figures he’s bound to be softer than that, but still. Jihoon also isn’t shirtless in front of him, instead dressed in an oversized hoodie and a white shirt, which helps make him appear softer too.
“Is that your friend?” Jihoon asks softly as he tosses his head to the side, clearly referencing Seokmin at the counter where he’s still cackling with Jun, the bastards.
“Yeah, he’s the one that came with me to the game last night.”
“Right, right. I thought he looked familiar.” And then Jihoon smiles at him, and it’s so soft and sweet that Mingyu feels like a jar of warm honey.
“We share a car, so he offered to give me a ride over,” Mingyu adds to the quietness starting to spread between them. The smile he receives has lost some of that softness as Jihoon raises an eyebrow. For what, Mingyu doesn’t know, but it makes him start to sweat all the same even despite the chilly air.
“And a ride back?”
Suddenly Mingyu gets it. But instead of shying away like he wants to, he instead manages to smile coyly.
“Unless you don’t.”
Jihoon barks out a laugh as he leans back into his seat, shaking his head in what Mingyu can only assume is fondness. “Down boy,” he eventually says once he’s gotten a hold of himself, the words making Mingyu’s cheeks burn, much to Jihoon’s clear delight. “Coffee first. We can see what happens after later, yeah?”
And though his voice is beyond squeaky, made worse by Jihoon’s teasing expression that has just the right amount of edge on it, he somehow manages to respond with a simple, “Yeah. Sounds good.”
They end up actually talking then, once MIngyu’s managed to wrangle a hold on himself, getting to know little things about each other like where they’re from, where they went to school, where they’re living now. He learns that Jihoon is a cat person, contrasting Mingyu and Seokmin’s personalities completely.
“Why don’t you get a dog then?” Jihoon’s asking when they’re almost rudely interrupted, an apologetic Seokmin standing at their table. Mingyu is sure that he looks as unimpressed as he feels, especially when he sees that Jihoon looks to be holding back a laugh.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Seokmin’s saying, his voice taking on a frantic edge that has Mingyu worried within a moment, “but do you have your train card? Work just called and there’s something wrong-”
“I’ll drive him home,” Jihoon cuts off before Seokmin can work himself into a full panic attack. The words do the trick and have Seokmin pausing immediately, looking over Jihoon critically before he turns back to Mingyu.
“Are you okay with that Gyu?”
“Yeah,” he agrees easily, only a little surprised as to how much he means it. “Go deal with your crisis. Text me how it goes.”
Immediately Seokmin hugs him and whispers a few more apologies into his ear before he’s hugging Jihoon, and whatever he says to the other man has him snorting. Mingyu can only guess what embarrassing thing Seokmin said before Jihoon’s laughing, waiting for Seokmin to leave the cafe before he turns back to Mingyu, his grin shit eating once again.
“I can’t believe your friend just threatened to disembowel me.”
Though Mingyu feels himself blush, he shrugs nonchalantly, sipping at his latte all the while. “Don’t think he wouldn’t do it.”
Jihoon just laughs harder.
🏒
Conversation with Jihoon is easy, Mingyu is happy to discover. It ebbs and flows in a way that Mingyu’s gay ass can only describe as beautiful, but it always seems to be a step away from slipping into pure dirty talk. And though Mingyu is incredibly shy, having Jihoon looking like that across from him and smiling at any less than PG remark he makes is enough to get him more than excited for what this may entail.
It’s when they’ve both finished their drinks and their refills when Jihoon finally starts to speak to the unspoken, his smile knowing all the while.
“So,” he starts, speaking around the straw and making Mingyu think of things that make it hard to focus, “I have a feeling I know how you’d like this to end.”
Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“Yeah, in my bed.” Jihoon’s words are so blunt that Mingyu splutters, grateful that he’s finished his lattes because otherwise he would’ve just choked. Jihoon just laughs at him, and Mingyu feels his cheeks burn so hot that he could fry an egg on them.
“And? What if I do?” He eventually manages, just barely a step up from squeaking. But his words are worth the embarrassment coursing through him when Jihoon’s smirk grows, almost taunting in nature.
“I’d say we could make that happen.”
Mingyu has half the mind to ask when he died, because this must truly be Heaven.
“Yeah?”
This time Jihoon just hums in response.
“I mean, I have to admit that I’m not really one for one offs,” Mingyu starts, feeling his cheeks burn even hotter when Jihoon smirks, “and I really do like our vibes.”
Jihoon’s smirk only grows, sucking on his straw despite how there’s no liquid really left in his cup. Mingyu has half the mind to think that he’s completely trying to tease him, and unfortunately he is succeeding beyond words.
“Which vibes? The general fact we’re vibing well together, or the ‘fuck me into next week’ vibes?”
Mingyu hates how Jihoon’s words sound so much like Seokmin’s from last night. But when Jihoon is the one saying them, well, Mingyu is far less opposed. He does however have to pull it together in order to respond to Jihoon, which is a feat that takes more out of him than he particularly cares to admit.
“I more so meant the fact that we’re vibing, but I’m not opposed to the others.” He tacks on a wink to the end of his words to get Jihoon to laugh, and he can’t help but to feel some odd sort of pride bubbling in his chest when Jihoon does just that. It really helps him to believe that they are really meshing well with each other.
“In that case,” Jihoon says before he stands, raising an eyebrow at Mingyu when he sees that he’s still sitting, “you wanna come over?”
Mingyu isn’t sure he’s ever jumped to his feet faster.
🏒
Mingyu finds himself spread eagle on Jihoon’s bed a couple hours later, loose and sedated in the way that he only can be after a mindblowingly good fuck. He hadn’t gotten the chance to look around Jihoon’s room when they first stumbled in, far too occupied with other more exciting and enticing things, so he takes the time now to look. It’s a decent sized bedroom, and the bed feels like the most luxurious thing he’s ever slept on. Jihoon has grey sheets and there’s a black patterned comforter that’s been mostly kicked off the bed, a fuzzy blanket just barely peeking out from the edges. There are also a few pictures scattered around and a bunch of knick knacks that Mingyu finds immediately endearing.
He’s still doing this slow and thorough look around when he hears Jihoon walk through the door, the older man snorting as he must finally see Mingyu.
“You good there?”
Mingyu manages to hum in the back of his throat, turning his head to look at Jihoon. Regretfully he put on a pair of sweatpants already, but that’s it. The scattered marks on his chest mixed with the flush that has yet to fully dissolve does something to Mingyu that he doesn’t care enough to admit to, at least not now. Instead he just wants to bury himself in this moment, in Jihoon.
Jihoon snorts at him once more before he’s sauntering towards the bed, and Mingyu finally catches the washcloth in his hand. When Jihoon sits on the bed next to him, Mingyu can’t help but to hum happily at what he’s sure is to come.
Sure, he likes to get his brains fucked square out of his skull. But he also really likes it when his partners help him with the clean up after.
Like he already knows this, Jihoon starts to wipe the mess from his chest, the cold cloth a nice feeling against his burning skin. Jihoon takes his time and makes sure that he’s thorough with his efforts, and Mingyu feels like the cat that ate the canary.
Jihoon may have been just his celebrity crush yesterday, but to Mingyu, Jihoon’s moved out of that category and into the classic Love Life? category that’s been emptier for longer than Mingyu cares to admit.
“Y’know,” Jihoon starts softly, his hair mused in a way that makes Mingyu’s heart surge when he finally looks back up at him, “I think we should meet up again. Not just ‘cuz the sex is great-”
“Spectacular,” Mingyu juts in with, Jihoon laughing at him as he shakes his head and his sweaty bangs scatter with the movement. Mingyu is in love, like, immediately.
“Sure, spectacular. But y’know,” Jihoon looks away, his ears a cherry red and Mingyu finds his sudden shyness more than endearing, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you again for more than just that.”
Mingyu smiles easily, catching one of Jihoon’s hands and pressing a long kiss to his knuckles before he speaks against them. “I’d be more than happy to oblige.”
And though Jihoon rolls his eyes like Mingyu has just said the most annoying thing in the world, when he leans down to kiss the breath out of him, Mingyu knows that he agrees.
And Mingyu? He can’t wait to see what comes next.
