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Somewhere between their first drink and Soonyoung passing out on the couch, Seokmin's phone pings with a message from Minghao.
It reads – not fun. 4/10. wanna get dinner? the usual.
Unlike Soonyoung, Seokmin has not been drinking much, just enough to make him feel slightly buzzed. He quickly types back a confirmation before pocketing his phone and untangling his limbs from where he had been cuddling with Soonyoung. He receives an annoyed grunt in response as a hand blindly reaches out to keep him still.
"Sorry, hyung," Seokmin whispers as he maneuvers Soonyoung so that he is laying down on his side before pushing a cushion into his arms. He immediately cuddles up against it.
"I'm going to get dinner with Myungho," he says, louder, making sure his voice reaches Seungkwan who had abandoned the two of them in favor of staying shut in his room. He joked that it was because they're too noisy when drunk, but all of them know that he just wanted to call his boyfriend who is visiting family all the way on the other side of the world.
Seungkwan pokes his head out from his room by the time Seokmin is crouched in the entryway, struggling with his shoelaces. "Are you going to see Myungho hyung?"
Seokmin nods. "Yeah. Bad date."
Seungkwan snorts. "Again? What's this, the third date this month?"
"Second," Seokmin corrects, finally managing to fasten his laces. He stands up straight and narrows his eyes. "It's not his fault. The dates would be terrible for anyone."
It's true. Minghao's previous date – a friend of a friend of Junhui – had spent a good portion of the date on call, passive aggressively flirting with her ex. Another one before that, a guy he had met on Tinder, had started a discussion about movies and then promptly insulted Minghao's favorite movie. Shockingly enough, they were not even the worst of the bunch.
"I'm not saying that it's his fault," Seungkwan says, walking over to plop down beside Soonyoung, "I'm just saying that maybe he's not a blind date kind of a guy, you know?"
"Maybe," Seokmin frowns. "I don't know. Maybe he just has terrible luck."
"I have an idea!" Seungkwan turns to look at Seokmin and wiggles his eyebrows playfully, "Why don't you date him?"
It's a joke.
Seokmin knows this – he can see it in the curve of Seungkwan's smile and the way he punctuates it with a laugh. It's a joke and still, Seokmin pauses before choking out a pathetic, "What– Why would we date?"
"Because you two would be great together," Seungkwan says, as if it were obvious.
Seokmin suddenly feels a little off-kilter, chalks it up to the alcohol even if he didn't have much and forces out a strangled laughter because it is a joke and that's what you do when someone cracks a joke. The struggle of it must show on his face because Seungkwan stares at him in confusion. He opens his mouth to say something, maybe to explain that he was just kidding.
Seokmin, however, is already out of the door before he can, muffling the response against the bang of the shutting door. He winces at the noise but does not go back to apologize, just runs down the stairs and directly into the biting cold of the November wind. It's only then that he realizes that in an attempt to escape, he forgot to grab his coat.
"Get yourself together, Lee Seokmin," he mutters to himself. He was not going to return to grab his coat and risk facing Seungkwan again – especially not after running off like that. So, he wraps his arms around himself and prays that the thin sweater is enough against the cold as he begins the trek to the meeting spot.
Maybe the cold will help him sober up.
It began five months ago with a date that Minghao had accepted out of kindness more than anything.
Kang Byeol was in Minghao's Contemporary Design class and had everything Seokmin wanted. She was smart enough to spend time with Minghao alone, under the guise of helping him out with the class, confident enough to grab Minghao's hand during their study sessions and ask him out on a date and nice enough for Minghao to give it a shot.
It was not the first time Minghao was seeing someone romantically — far from it, really. Their school years had been brimming with someone or the other dragging him away during lunch breaks and after hours to confess to him. It never bothered Seokmin back then, not even when Minghao found himself a boyfriend that remained in his life for five entire months. Maybe it was the fleeting nature of teenage relationships, but Seokmin always knew that none of it would last and it helped that Minghao thought so, too — told him this in the dark of his room during sleepovers.
Now, Minghao said none of that. Instead, he looked at Seokmin and said in that determined way of his, that he was going to give this a proper try. Seokmin wished him good luck and then laughed to cover up how weak his voice had come out.
In the end, it did not work out between Minghao and Kang Byeol and Seokmin had felt nothing but an overwhelmingly shameful sense of relief. After the first date itself, Minghao called him and said that there had been no spark. Seokmin responded to the statement with laughter and playfully told him that he watched too many romance movies and that had been that.
Then, a week later, Minghao texted him something along the lines of the date making him consider getting back into the dating scene along with a carefully curated collection of pictures that he was going to display on his brand new Tinder profile. The pictures mostly included selfies taken in various locations — by the Han River, on his bed, in front of a half-finished canvas — but there was a picture that ground Seokmin's thoughts to a halt. Minghao was shirtless in it, that much was obvious, despite the way the entire image was shrouded almost entirely in shadows. The sharp angles of his torso stood out against what minimal light was present and Seokmin knew that he was staring.
His phone pinged with another text from Minghao — what do u think?
Seokmin snapped out of his trance and hastily typed back, pretty as always~ fighting, myungho-yah! with an excessive amount of emojis and deleted the images from the chat like some sort of self-imposed act of abstinence. He could not meet Minghao's eyes the next day.
Minghao went on multiple dates after that. He never rejected anyone – said that he believed in giving people a fair chance. It never worked out, never even went beyond the first date, but every single time Seokmin couldn't help but dread Minghao telling him that he had found the one.
Every single time, he felt that he had missed out on a chance that he could never gather the courage to grab in the first place.
By the time he sees Minghao waiting for him outside the restaurant, he still has not managed to stop thinking about Seungkwan's joke, despite purposefully walking much slower than he would in an attempt to clear his mind.
Part of him wants to turn around and run, text Minghao an apology and then bury himself in the guilt of lying to his best friend. But then, Minghao turns and catches sight of him. He raises his arm to wave at Seokmin, his wide smile visible even from a distance. Seokmin mirrors the smile as he jogs over.
He stops in front of Minghao, close enough to catch a whiff of the woody scent of his perfume. It's evident that he has been outside in the cold for a while. The tip of his nose and his cheeks are red from it. Seokmin grabs one of his hands and holds it between his palms to warm it up. "Why didn't you wait inside?"
Usually, this is when he would ask about Minghao's date. How it went, who rejected who, was the rejection funny, at least? – it was a routine, at this point. They would meet-up after the failed dates at this hole in the wall restaurant they discovered together back during their first year in university and Minghao would talk about the reasons why the dates failed out and Seokmin would listen all the while holding back the urge to say – I could do better. I could do it. Give me a chance.
Today, Seokmin feels too wound up to talk about Minghao's potential love interests. It's funny how a little remark from Seungkwan can stick to him like this.
Minghao shrugs. Wisps of his soft pink hair peek out from underneath his beanie. "I just got here so I thought I would wait for you." A pause, and then, sheepishly, "I didn't ruin your plans, did I?"
Seokmin shakes his head. "No, I was just drinking with Soonyoung hyung."
"Aigoo," Minghao coos, bringing his free hand up to cup Seokmin's cheek, his voice all high like it got whenever he wanted to tease someone. His palm is startlingly cold against the flushed skin of Seokmin's face. "Are you drunk, Seokmin-ah? Is that why it took you longer than usual?"
Seokmin holds back the urge to close his eyes and allow himself a moment to nestle his face against Minghao's palm. Instead, he pouts. "I'm not. I just had a little soju and the walk sobered me. I just got caught up talking to Seungkwan." And then, because he cannot think of anything else, he blurts out, "He said that we would be great together." He says it in a way that's like can you believe that? As if the idea of them together, the idea of them dating, is ridiculous.
It's only when he is greeted by silence does he realize what he said. He panics and takes a step back, away from Minghao's touch. Minghao lets him go easily. It shouldn't sting like it does.
"No, I mean—," he starts, stops, laughs nervously, "that's ridiculous, yeah. I know. Us, dating?" He forces out another laugh but it falls flat. "Funny. Seungkwan was joking anyway. He jokes around a lot these—"
"Seokmin-ah," Minghao interrupts, gaze intense in the way it gets when he is determined. Seokmin's stomach drops. He doesn't know if he can handle rejection on the street outside their favorite restaurant. He doesn't know if he can handle rejection at all.
"Myungho," he tries, desperate, "It was a joke."
Minghao shakes his head and then, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay, let's try it out."
Seokmin's jaw snaps shut and he wonders if he is experiencing the world's first case of concussion without impact. He also wonders what kind of a person it would make him if he physically runs away from two conversations in the span of an hour.
Not a brave one, probably.
Minghao hesitantly closes the distance, as if he knows that Seokmin is considering making a break for it. He reaches forward and takes hold of one of Seokmin's hands between both of his — one of them warm from being held before — and offers him a smile. Despite the situation and the years between them, the weight of Minghao's attention still makes Seokmin feel warm inside-out.
"Let's try it out," Minghao repeats, "let's go on a date."
On days when Minghao recounted the details of a confession, Seokmin allowed himself to indulge in elaborate fantasies of how it would go if he were to confess. He would imagine going up to Minghao, taking him somewhere secluded and spilling out everything he has been holding onto. He would imagine being overwhelmed with the weight of his love and kissing Minghao and being kissed back. He would imagine a world where he did not have to be brave at all because Minghao would do it for him — where all Seokmin would have to do was meet him halfway.
Now, faced with it, all he can manage is a weak nod.
Minghao smiles even wider. "It's a date then."
Two months into their third year at highschool, Seokmin came to the crushing realization that he was in love with Minghao. Three months in, Mingyu dragged him to get shitfaced in a dingy bar where a boy tried to hit on him while Seokmin horribly, terribly, thought – if only it was Myungho.
Four months in, Minghao asked him to dye his hair.
"How have you been?" Seokmin asked while he mixed the hair products. It had been over a month since he had last seen Minghao and there was no one to blame but himself. In the wake of his newfound feelings, he was constantly worried that he would be found out with a single glance.
"Fine," Minghao replied from where he was perched on the counter. The steady thump-thump-thump of his swinging feet hitting the cabinets below echoed in the tiny bathroom. And then, with an air of nonchalance, he said, "We broke up."
Seokmin turned to look at Minghao properly for the first time in a month. He looked – fine, honestly. Nothing about him screamed of heartbreak. Still, Seokmin asked, "Are you okay?"
In hindsight, it had been a long time coming. When Minghao had first started dating Wonwoo, a final year student, both of them knew that the arrangement was going to be short-lived. Something to look back upon fondly rather than something to hold onto. But then a month passed, then another, then another, with no signs of a breakup. Just like that, after five months, Wonwoo had been Minghao's longest relationship.
"Yeah, don't worry." Minghao shrugged. He ran his fingers through his wet hair once, twice, thrice and scrunched his face in frustration. "It's nothing. We knew it was going to end anyway."
Seokmin frowned. He knew that it was obviously not nothing. Minghao had never been a good liar. He was too sincere with his intentions to be one. Still, he did not call him out on it. He already knew that no matter what Minghao claimed to be true, Wonwoo had been important to him.
Curiosity took hold of Seokmin for a moment and he wanted to ask – how did it happen? Who initiated the breakup? Did you fall in love with him? But it was obvious that Minghao did not want to talk more about it. And so, Seokmin chose to focus on the task at hand. He stepped closer to the counter and placed the bowl on it before sliding his hands into protective gloves. The proximity would be too much if it wasn't so familiar.
"You know," he spoke conversationally as he started applying the dye, keeping his eyes trained on the hair even though he could feel Minghao looking at him. "If I was in your place, I would be sad about it."
It startled a laugh out of Minghao. "That's because you're a crybaby," he teased, raising his hand to poke Seokmin's cheek playfully. "You used to cry everyday when your mom dropped you off at school."
Seokmin groaned, overly dramatic. "When will you let that go? I was four!"
Minghao grinned. "When it stops being funny."
Seokmin huffed in exasperation and allowed them to lapse into silence while he worked to make sure that every strand was coated.
Over the years, Minghao had often asked him to dye his hair for him. Sometimes it was because of the injuries he managed to gather during dance practice, sometimes it was just because Minghao did not want to do it. Most of the time, however, it was because Minghao wanted to hang out with Seokmin. Not that he needed an excuse to do so, but it was just a thing they did – an unspoken, unbreakable promise – Minghao asks him to dye his hair, Seokmin never denies.
Losing himself in the repetitive motions of applying the hair dye was easy. Seokmin only spoke to instruct Minghao into turning his head this way and that. Between all that, he could see in the tense line of Minghao's mouth suggesting that he wanted to say something. Seokmin waited for him to.
Afterwards, while they shared japchae on Minghao's bedroom floor and Seokmin tried to hold himself back from running his hands through Minghao's brand new pink hair, Minghao spoke.
"I miss Wonwoo hyung." His voice was tinged with a sadness that Seokmin did not know how to deal with.
"I don't love him," Minghao explained, "I just – I got so used to having him beside me that I miss him now that he's not."
Seokmin did not allow himself to think about the implications of that. Instead, he placed his chopsticks down and then grabbed Minghao's chopsticks and placed them down as well. He held his hands and turned his eyes up at Minghao. "Myungho-yah, you're allowed to miss him. You spent so long with him." He rubbed his thumb across the back of Minghao's hand as he considered his next words. He smiled in a way he hoped was encouraging. "You're allowed to love him, too."
Minghao shook his head. "I did not love him," he insisted. He turned their hands over so that he could intertwine their fingers. "It's okay. At least I have you."
For the first time since they had known each other, Minghao looked uncertain. Seokmin felt it sink like a stone in his gut. He knew that it was because of all the calls he had dodged and the plans he had canceled in a sad attempt to not face Minghao.
Seokmin squeezed Minghao's hands and looked him in the eye, trying to convey as much sincerity as he could through his gaze. "You do. You always will."
On the day of their date, Seokmin knocks on Minghao's door twenty minutes late.
"I'm sorry," he blurts out as soon as the door opens.
" Seokmin?" Minghao says, bewildered, "you— why are you wet?"
Seokmin smiles sheepishly. "I ran here," he admits, as though foregoing transport and running through the rain is something normal people do. He tries to not be too obvious while glancing down apologetically at the puddle of water he had created under his feet while waiting for Minghao to answer the door.
Minghao sighs. He pulls Seokmin in by the elbow and into the apartment, shutting the door behind them. "I'll get you some towels," he says and disappears down the hallway while Seokmin tries to minimize the damage by standing very, very still in the doorway.
He isn't sure what he is doing here. They had planned a simple date — a picnic and a walk, all by the Han river. Now, with the heavy downpour, the date probably stands canceled. And yet, Seokmin is here. For a moment, he feels stupid for it.
"Here." Minghao enters his line of sight with his arms full of towels. He hands Seokmin one towel and uses the other one to dry his hair for him. Seokmin feels his skin burn at the proximity, the display of domesticity, even though this is something Minghaao has done for him often.
It's only then that he notices how Minghao is dressed in his usual sleeveless shirt and joggers — a decidedly un-datelike outfit.
"Sorry," he mumbles.
Minghao tilts his head. "For being late? It's okay, Seokmin-ah."
"Not or that. For showing up without checking," Seokmin says, "I wanted to see you today." I didn't think I would get another chance with you after today, is what he wants to say.
Minghao considers him for a moment and then, "This means a lot to you."
"It does," Seokmin says quietly.
Minghao smiles. "Okay, let's hang out. But first," he pushes all the towels into Seokmin's arms and then guides him towards the bathroom. "Go and shower or you'll fall sick. I've left a change of clothes out for you." Seokmin worries about the carpet that he is ruining beyond doubt but Minghao doesn't mention it and just shoves him in the bathroom.
Seokmin sighs and peels his clothes off. He digs into his pockets and finds that miraculously, his phone still works. He places the wet clothes inside the bag Minghao had set aside for him and steps under the warm spray of the shower.
In theory, this could go well. Seokmin has gone on his own fair share of dates in the past, even if they were mostly a desperate attempt to get over Minghao. He knows how it goes — have a good time, charm the person you're on a date with and possibly kiss them at the end to seal the deal.
Realistically, this could easily take a turn for the worst and Minghao might quickly realize that he cannot see Seokmin under a romantic light — tell him that he did not feel the spark with him either and leave their friendship a sad imitation of what it is with the awkwardness of a failed date hanging over them.
It's stupid, he knows. He would never lose Minghao to this. They love each other too much to truly cut each other out of their lives over an attempt to see whether their love can be more . Still, Seokmin worries.
True to his word, Minghao has left out clothes for him. The shirt belongs to Minghao and is a little tight on Seokmin but the pants are the ones Seokmin left behind the last time he slept over. Back then, Minghao had invited him over to watch a movie they had been looking forward to. Seokmin had cried over the ending and Minghao had asked him to sleep over. It felt natural.
Now, he feels nervous and almost jittery standing in the same bathroom he has even thrown up in. It almost catches him off-guard. He has not felt like this in Minghao's presence for nearly half a decade.
By the time he exits the bathroom, Minghao is seated on the couch, watching what Seokmin recognizes as a show he has been into recently.
"Hey," Seokmin says as he plops down beside him.
Minghao turns to him with a smile. "Hi. Are you hungry?"
Seokmin returns the smile and nods. "I could eat."
Minghao grins. "Good. I made stir fry while you were showering."
They eat while watching the show that Seokmin barely pays any attention to. He did not realize how hungry he had been. Ever since they had agreed on the date last night, it was all he had been able to think about. He might have missed out on a few meals because of that.
"You know," Minghao says, catching his attention, "I'm a little nervous."
Seokmin frowns. "About what?"
"This date, obviously."
And that is — absurd. Seokmin has seen Minghao before his dates. He has seen him getting ready for dates with people he has been genuinely interested in and ones that were with people that never stood a chance in the first place. Minghao has never been nervous about a date before. It feels so out of place that Seokmin almost believes that he is joking.
"Why?"
Minghao sets his chopsticks down and takes in a deep breath, as though steeling himself. "Because I don't want it to be bad for you. I don't want you to feel like I'm not taking this seriously when I know that this means a lot to you."
Seokmin feels a little like crying. He also feels a little like kissing Minghao. He does neither and just smiles, feeling his heart warm him up from the inside out. "Thank you," he whispers, "For the record, you're doing good."
"I didn't even do anything."
"You made me food!" Seokmin points out, picking a piece of meat and popping it in his mouth to make a point. "That's already so many points for you."
Had it been anyone else, they would have missed the way this makes the tip of Minghao's ears turn pink. Seokmin being who he is, catches this, and it feels almost subconscious, the way he reaches out to touch the shell of Minghao's ear. There's a mole there that Seokmin goes to thumb at before catching himself and snatching his hand back, as if burnt.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to," he says.
Somehow, Minghao has turned an even brighter shade of pink than before and Seokmin would find it cute if he wasn't so embarrassed. Minghao shakes his head. "It's fine." He picks up his chopsticks and goes back to eating as though the last five minutes did not occur and he is not blushing down to his fingertips. He turns to Seokmin who is frozen in place and raises an eyebrow. "Are you not eating?"
Seokmin feels the tension drain out of him. It's comforting to know that he isn't the only one affected by this. He picks his chopsticks back up and they resume eating.
Once they're done, the rain is still falling heavily and so, they settle back onto the couch and turn on a movie that neither of them really pay attention to. At least, Seokmin does not. He keeps stealing glances at Minghao and by the way he often catches Minghao returning the glance, he knows that he is not watching either.
"Myungho-yah," Seokmin says after the eighth time he catches Minghao looking at him, "do I have something on my face?"
Minghao rolls his eyes. "Don't act like you weren't looking."
"I didn't say that," he says, and then, he asks, "Can we, um, hold hands, maybe?"
Seokmin feels foolish for asking. They have always been physically affectionate towards each other. They started holding hands when their mothers told them to, back in preschool, and it carried over the years until it grew into a habit. Yet, it feels different now. To his credit, Minghao does not laugh at him for asking it. He nods and slides his fingers between the gaps of Seokmin's fingers and squeezes.
Minghao's palm is soft and warm against Seokmin's. His fingers are thin and long, almost the exact same size as Seokmin's fingers. There is nothing new about it and it still makes Seokmin's heart jackrabbit in his chest. They place their conjoined hands in-between them on the couch and like that, they watch the movie.
Sometime during the movie, he feels Minghao rest his head on Seokmin's shoulder. This close, the smell of his shampoo is noticeable. Seokmin knows that his hair smells the same from the shower earlier. In a rush of courage, he presses a kiss to the top of his head and waits to see Minghao's reaction. Minghao just melts further against him, shifting so that there's barely any space in-between them, as he drags their conjoined hands to rest against his chest — right above his heart.
The rest of the day passes by in a blur.
After finishing the movie, Seokmin cooks tteokbokki for them, making sure to keep the spice mild for Minghao. They eat while they trade theories about the open ending of the movie and Seokmin feels his heart expand everytime Minghao giggles at a particularly outlandish theory he offers. It makes him want to come up with ones that are even funnier and by the time they're done with dinner, Minghao's face is red with laughter.
Once the food is cleared and Minghao has forced Seokmin away from the dishes, they stand at the doorway. The rain has reduced to a drizzle so Minghao lends him an umbrella and does not insist on him to stay after Seokmin refuses once. The clothes he arrived while dressed in are still slightly damp, despite Minghao washing them and putting them in the dryer earlier, so he is dressed in the same tight shirt he borrowed.
"That was fun," Minghao says, leaning against the doorframe.
"It was. Thank you," Seokmin says. His hands itch to touch Minghao but they're both occupied so he refrains. He offers a smile instead. "I should go."
"Yeah, you should," Minghao says, but neither of them make any move to leave or shut the door. They must make for an odd view, Seokmin thinks, two men staring at each other with an almost misplaced amount of intensity at the doorway.
Then, so suddenly that Seokmin has no time to brace for it, Minghao's lips are on his own.
Seokmin gasps against Minghao's mouth. There is one hand cupping the side of Seokmin's face as Minghao kisses him, soft and chaste. It burns through his skin, he feels it down to his bones. Just as he begins to kiss back, Minghao pulls back. Seokmin makes a noise of dissatisfaction that makes Minghao giggle.
"Okay," he says, sliding the hand that was cupping Seokmin's cheek down to his shoulder. "Off you go."
If given the chance, he would push Minghao against the door and kiss him until they're both breathless, and then kiss him more. He would thread his fingers in the long hair by Minghao's nape and lean against the warmth of his body, feeling dizzy with want. As it stands, he does not want to rush Minghao – as it stands, he can only nod and whisper a goodbye before turning to leave.
For almost the entire walk back home, Seokmin does his best to memorize the way Minghao's lips had felt, the way he had cupped his cheek and swiped his thumb across it, the way he tasted like the tteokbokki Seokmin had cooked for them.
Too late, he realizes that this might have been the only chance he would ever get to kiss Minghao. They did not talk about a second date or the spark that Minghao is constantly looking for. The realisation feels like heartbreak, even if Seokmin knew that it was inevitable.
As his apartment comes into view and Seokmin tries to settle into the sting of rejection, his phone pings.
It reads – i think i owe him a 2nd date.