Work Text:
Minho glances at the clock.
23:59 PM .
A soft breath escapes his lips. He glances away and then back quickly, eyes flitting about on the way.
23:59 PM.
Still? He looks again.
23:59 PM.
How long is this damn minute?
00:00 AM .
He jumps up, the soft give of his bed slowing his movements. Minho’s first reaction to the time is to fall to the floor dramatically, looking up at his door in agony. Nobody seems to be on the other side. Good. That’s good.
His phone is silent, too, save for the YouTube notification that pings loudly in the otherwise completely static room. It’s like being locked in a pressure cooker, he thinks. He has a very vivid and almost terrifying sense he might know the origin of said notification, too, and he doesn’t want to check, so instead he averts his eyes to the clock.
00:02.
Oh, oh wow. Two minutes passed like that? That’s, uh. That’s good.
Yeah, that’s good.
His phone pings again, this time the distinctive Bubble notification sound playing. Curiosity killed the cat, or whatever. He runs to his nightstand and lets his face-ID do all the work, and makes quick swipes to see what one of his lovely bandmates said.
Ah. Ah.
크리쯔 | 00:03
Listening to Lee Know’s cover atm
Minho launches his phone onto his bed and then dives onto the floor again. Goddamn it and this love-steeped and endlessly supportive group he’s found himself in. He groans, standing back up and rolling back into his bed, and grabs his phone.
Call .Bang Chan-hyung.
He picks up on the first ring.
“Hyung.” It comes out whinier than he expected.
“Your cover is so amazing, you know? You don’t have to be worried.” It’s strange and awfully revealing that he could tell from one word.
“Yeah, but—what if they don’t get it?”
“Don’t be stupid, they’re going to.”
“How stupid can I be? Confessing to two sickening MyDays using our actual, legitimate platform? I can’t believe—”
Chan interrupts, “You say ‘sickening,’ but I think you’re the lovesick one, here—”
“Hey!”
“I kid, I kid. Don’t worry, Lino-yah, they’re going to love it and so will Stay. I think it’s really sweet you’re letting them hear it, too.”
Minho grips his blanket, waving it back and forth. “Well, it’s my first record, so..I don’t know, I figured it could be a double present. Triple present? I don’t know. I—”
“You’re rambling, I know. I’m proud of you.” Minho can hear the gentle smile with the dimples through the screen. He scowls as his ears redden.
“Yuck.” Then, a little quieter: “Thanks, hyung.”
“Mhm. Go get them, Lino-yah.”
“I’ll try.”
જ⁀➴₊˚⊹♡
Somehow, Minho has managed to sleep, but the regretful thing about sleeping is that he has to wake up. And even more regretfully, he wakes up and the clock reads, bright and happily:
07:02 AM .
Minho wishes he wasn’t such a morning person. Additionally, he wishes that one of his ginormous crushes wasn’t his biggest competition for morning person. Even more additionally—these could go forever, he realizes—he wishes that one of his ginormous crushes, who is a huge morning person, wasn’t also his bathroommate. Roommate, specifically for the bathroom.
He’s going to cry.
Regardless, he has to pee, and he doesn’t want to know. Know what? Literally anything. He will not check his phone or try to talk to anyone. He will get to the bathroom and then make it back to his plush oasis and heed no conversation.
Things seem to be proceeding well throughout the short walk to the bathroom door, until he actually opens it and Seungmin is standing there eerily, a hand up as though to knock and a cup of coffee held tightly in the other. His lips are parted delicately, his face the epitome of morning dew-soft and dark eyes lit beautifully in the dawn. He wants to cry.
“Hyung—”
“Seungminnie, ah, hey. Um, what are you up to?” Nice save.
“I wanted to bring you coffee. The—”
“Wow, thank you.” He tries to control the blush rising to his cheeks and ears, and his voice comes out more deadpan in his anxiety that he means it to. Seungmin smiles, regardless, eyes seeming to say something more. Before he can say anything else, though, Minho speaks up again, “Through the bathroom, though?”
That catches him off guard. Yes! Distraction!
“Ah—honestly, I don’t know why I was going this way. I guess I set my cup down and didn’t think to go back out and around the long route? I also figured you wouldn’t mind much, you know, you being you—”
Minho laughs, hoping it doesn’t sound too fake. He can’t handle the metaphorical weight on top of him right now. He is on the verge of shaking and never stopping.
“Anyway, here. The coffee is for you. Also—”
Minho cuts him off again, “Thank you, Seungminnie. It smells delicious.” He smiles, hoping to convey his actual, real gratitude that is constantly blooming bigger than previously, even if right now it’s stifled under stress. “Also, I hate to push you out, but I really have to pee, so, um. Yeah.”
Seungmin glances down, then at the coffee cup, and then back directly at Minho’s eyes. “Oh, of course! No worries, do you, um, want me to hold this for you, or—”
“Uh, I can take it, actually! I’ll set it on my nightstand. You know how I love to savor Seungminnie Coffee TM . Thank you, again.”
“Mhm, of course, hyung,” Seungmin’s radiant puppy-smile is going to kill him. “I’ll just be in my room if you need anything any time soon.”
Before he can say anything else, Seungmin is out his own bathroom door and, essentially, long-gone.
Minho spends at least five minutes staring himself down in the mirror before turning on the shower and letting out a stress-killing shriek. It doesn’t really work, but it sure is the thought that counts.
જ⁀➴₊˚⊹♡
Somehow, Minho is actually able to avoid anyone and anything until 6pm. An incredible feat, but he supposes with vacations and plans everyone is just likely to get a little busy. He has also avoided his phone, because despite the amount of effort and love he poured into his cover, he is still afraid. Not necessarily of the reception, but just..it’s like anything. Comeback season is nerve-wracking, learning a new choreo is nerve-wracking, posting your first-ever solo SKZ-RECORD is nerve-wracking. Anyone could see where the stress comes from.
In fact, the last thing he did on his phone was send a comment on Bubble about the cover, before deciding that is the last anyone will hear of it from him. It works pretty well for Hannie, it can work pretty well for him. Yeah.
Well.
For Stays, it’ll work, at least.
The sudden knocking on his door seems to say otherwise in terms of his members.
He takes a chance, “Yes?” It doesn’t come out strained, even though all he’s done all day is make squeaking sounds when something good happened in the anime he watched.
“Linoring, hyung, can I come in?”
Hannie.
Apparently he hesitates too long, the soft voice coming through again. “I didn’t know you recorded a cover?”
Straight to the point, as always. It was muffled through the door, but, despite the confidence, he almost sounds—sad? Minho’s brain can’t decide, but his heart does, and he rushes for the door at a speed he’s not sure he’s moved at in at least three months.
He rips open the door, and Jisung is on the other side, eyes wide, glassy, and filled with an emotion Minho still can’t fully interpret. Maybe a day away from the members was not a good idea when so much is on the line.
Before he can say anything, though, Jisung grabs his hands and starts waving them gently, though not without enthusiasm. “Hyung, you—did you see?”
“Um, see what, Hannie?”
“I had a suspicion you stayed off technology today,” he laughs, and it’s like sunlight warming Minho’s skin, even though the sun is basically down outside the window. “You got a million views in 18 hours, Minho.”
Minho shudders, mostly because Jisung using his name without any honorifics or endearments always makes him shudder, but also because he had no idea that a silly little cover could have that much traction so fast. Well, it wasn’t silly, it was more of a giant “LET ME LOVE YOU” sign with fireworks and glitter, but, still. Just a cover.
“I—what?”
“You’re really the king of surprises, aren’t you, hyung?”
Minho flushes. “Well, I—um. It was supposed to be a surprise, at least, so…it’s good you received it as one?”
Jisung pauses, still clutching Minho’s hands like a lifeline. He sways them with a little more force, looking up at the ceiling, eyes squinting in calculation. Eventually they meet eyes again and he speaks, softly; “Will you come to the living room with me?”
Minho tries to act normal, his breath hitching and betraying him just the slightest bit. Jisung definitely notices, but he can’t care much, not right now. “I—I can, of course.”
Jisung smiles and drops one of his hands, but entwines their fingers to make the remaining hold more secure, before gently leading Minho through the door and down the short hallway. Minho’s heartbeat is going to set off an alarm on his watch, he thinks.
The second they step into the common space, Minho sees Seungmin, his back straight and eyes already glued to him even though he only just entered. He can see his chest stutter with every breath, but his eyes remain determined and dark, the same expression he had that morning.
Maybe Minho can’t read either of them because he’s on the verge of imploding. First K-Pop idol to implode at the dorms. He could make headlines!
Before his stress can consume him fully, though, he feels Jisung squeeze his hand comfortingly. It calms him instantly, the wave of relief and adoration soothing him in the same way that Seungmin’s coffee does every morning. He remembers why he released the song in the first place.
A call to the two people who let him feel so loved .
He doesn’t notice as Jisung sits him down on the soft surface of the couch, but does eventually notice the way he is kind of being cornered, Jisung sitting in front of him (still holding his hand, except now playing with his fingers—thank goodness) and Seungmin moving to kneel in the space between the couch and coffee table.
Minho watches as the two of them glance at each other, an entire silent conversation passing in the span of a millisecond, before they turn to him, two pairs of lips twitching as they contemplate what to say next. Somehow, Minho finds himself being the first to speak.
“You—uh, you found the dice, didn’t you?”
He watches as both of them jump to life, Jisung squeezing his hand harder as his plump lips twitch into a smile, and Seungmin just flushes and puts a hand into his shirt pocket. It quickly resurfaces, carefully holding a custom-made, sky blue die, fingers shaking almost imperceptibly. Jisung rushes to pull out his own, the lime green stark but lovely in his palm. Minho thinks this sight might make him cry, too.
Even though neither of them have said anything yet, the need to explain takes over him. He whispers, “I, um, the song is a little..sad, or, I think melancholy might be a better word? But it’s hopeful, too, and I wanted to be hopeful for us…I spent a long time picking the song.” A laugh falls past his lips, made of a mixture of self deprecation and affection and stress.
Seungmin jumps in first, reaching out to take Minho’s free hand. “It’s literally perfect, hyung. Your voice is just so…the lingering feelings you portrayed were so real, when I listened to it before finding my die I thought someone may have hurt you. But, um, when I realized it was a confession—it took Jisung holding me back from jumping you in my room, to say the least..”
Minho laughs again—a happier sound—as Jisung turns to face Seungmin, widened eyes flicking back and forth between the pair as he talks. “Oh, hyung, you have no idea! I found mine too, and, well, the lyric connection was a bit obvious..but I told him you needed time! I came over super early today, actually, but I wasn’t going to bother you—well, not in person, at least, this is how I knew you weren’t on your phone, because you didn’t answer—” he pouts pointedly before continuing, “but, anyway, once your cover literally demolished the charts and I still hadn’t seen you today, I couldn’t wait any longer.” His chest rises and falls quickly with his passion, one more sentence escaping as his eyes gloss over:
“Also, well, we would like to give you our answer.”
Seungmin nods, hand squeezing tighter in determination. “It may not be quick, since it took us 18 hours…and a lot more before the cover even released…” he looks down, cheeks blooming into a peachy pink, “but it is honest and we aren’t holding back, not this time and never again.”
Minho thinks he might pass out, the intensity of a long-festering dream coming true making him feel light-headed. However, the two of them holding his palms keep him grounded, and he squeezes both hands, encouraging them. If he opens his mouth right now he might burst into flames, so he does what he can to keep his composure, nodding and looking with what he thinks are pleading eyes (but might very well just show off how close to tears he is).
Jisung speaks first, his heart-shaped smile bright and beautiful, “Hyung, we love you so much.”
Seungmin moves his free hand to Jisung’s waist, somehow smiling almost brighter. “We really, really do.”
“I think that using a Day6 song might just be the most romantic thing to ever happen to me—ow!” Seungmin pinches Jisung in jest, cutting him off, and smiles and rests his head onto his shoulder. From Minho’s point of view, he looks even more like a puppy than usual, and the proximity of their faces to each other just makes him flush more, anticipation rising.
Eventually, finally , Seungmin delivers the final blow. “Would you be our boyfriend?”
Just because he expected it doesn’t make it any easier. In fact, Minho is going to explode. It isn’t just a possibility anymore, it’s a fact. Even so, he manages to reply, breaths labored but filled with light, so much that he could be convinced he was glowing.
“I would be so honored, my Seungminnie, my Jisungie.”
જ⁀➴₊˚⊹♡
Minho snuggles his face into Seungmin’s chest, the warmth and comfort of his bed being filled with the boys he loves completely overwhelming. Jisung has his hands delicately, but no less possessively, wrapped around Minho’s middle, fingers trailing designs into his skin. He can make out stars and hearts and something shaped oddly like jureumi, he thinks.
Their dice—now a complete trio, Minho’s pink one dug out of his own pocket after he burst into tears as the final “-ie” left his mouth—sit on the nightstand, a beautiful testament to a love shared and a love long-lasting. Before falling asleep, Minho allows himself one last comment, smile terribly obvious in the cadence of his words.
“At the risk of sounding cheesy, please don’t leave me, tonight.”
“That was terrible, hyung.”
“It was, but we won’t be leaving you any night ever again, Linoring.”