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D-21
So.
Mingyu’s more of a pragmatist, if you ask him. He’s a planner. He’d never be caught dead without at least one backup plan, maybe two if he’s had enough time to think about it. It’s just how his mind works.
Mingyu has a reasonable amount of confidence and a ton of resources at his fingertips. He’s never met a challenge he can’t overcome, whether by sheer determination and optimism, or just from being an all around lucky guy. So the look Minghao is giving him right now is kind of uncalled for, honestly.
“I just think it sounds dumb,” Minghao says frankly. “Like. Sorry. I love you, but what are you even talking about right now.”
Seokmin, through a mouthful of mandu, says, “Thank you. Exactly what I was saying.” It’s a little muffled, but Mingyu can get the gist.
Mingyu just sighs. Perhaps a weaker spirit would be cowed by the sight of their two closest friends shooting down their ideas over an hour-long lunch break, but not his.
“It’s called having a can-do attitude,” he tells them. “Not a can-don’t. I’m giving myself a doable timeline and an achievable goal. You should be supporting me!”
Minghao reaches across the table to take Mingyu’s hand in his. He’s got his assigned-therapy-friend look in his eyes.
“Mingyu-yah,” he says. “Please be reasonable. Boo Seungkwan-ssi from finance is not going to fall in love with you in twenty-one days. He doesn’t even know you.”
“He could,” Mingyu complains, shooting Seokmin across the table a look. Seokmin just makes a face back. “If someone here would actually help me out.”
Seokmin puts a hand over his own heart, looking offended. “You think it’s that easy to break into the BooSeokSoon bond? You think you can just step into this sacred circle whenever you want without doing the work?”
“Min-ah, you guys drew lots and did an Orange Caramel cover during the company party,” Minghao points out. “You were sacrificial lambs, not fated partners.”
“Myungho-yah, it was fate,” Seokmin says. He sounds genuinely hurt. “Seungkwannie from finance, me from marketing, Soonyoungie from sales— we’re the real deal. Fate is the core of BooSeokSoon. Nobody else had costumes as good as ours, and we sang live.”
“Okay,” Minghao sighs, and gets back to his noodles.
“That cover was the moment I fell in love,” Mingyu says. “If anyone cares.”
“We don’t,” Seokmin says cheerfully. Then, in sepulchral tones, “True love or not, you were but a spectator, not a participant.” In his normal voice: “Sorry, dude. An office crush just isn’t a good enough reason to give you his number. I have to protect Seungkwan’s peace.”
“Fine,” Mingyu snaps. “It’s day one of twenty-one, so. I have plenty of time.” He gestures at all of himself. The effect is slightly spoiled by the plastic apron he’s taken to wearing to prevent spills and stains during lunchtime, but still. “Anyway, I’m handsome, tall, smart, and have a pleasing personality. I’m a great catch!”
“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” Minghao says. “It makes you sound like you have a big head.” He pats Mingyu’s big head to soften the blow.
Seokmin is equally unimpressed. “You’re going to need a lot more than that if you want Seungkwan to be interested in you,” he says. “And he isn’t even in today. He took an annual leave for his birthday.” He raises his eyebrows at Mingyu, as if to say, See? BooSeokSoon bond.
Mingyu just shrugs. “Okay,” he says. “No problem. Monday is day one of twenty-one. Even better!”
“You have an indomitable spirit, at least,” Seokmin says. “Even if it is a little annoying.” Then he shoves another mandu into his mouth, and that’s the end of that conversation.
—
D-21 (again)
Boo Seungkwan from finance is usually a hard man to track down, but it’s fine, because Mingyu has a plan: submit a budget proposal to the finance department in person, say hello to Seungkwan, maybe even strike up a conversation with him.
He’s keeping it simple today. As much as he hates to admit it, Seokmin is right— he doesn’t really have an in with Seungkwan, at least not yet. They’re in different departments, and they didn’t even enter the company at the same time. There’s hardly any overlap, if he’s being honest.
But he still has a few chances. His recent promotion means that he has more opportunities to set up meetings between departments instead of just wasting away at his desk. Plus, he has thirty years of being incredibly personable and charming in his pocket; a good first (third?) impression is in the bag.
Mingyu wakes up bright and early Monday morning, packs his pre-prepared lunch (steamed broccoli, grilled chicken, and brown rice— alas, gains wait for no one), grabs an iced coffee from the neighborhood cafe, and hops onto the bus with a pep in his step.
Whatever good energy Mingyu is putting out into the world works— he spots a familiar round head among the sea of anonymous office workers on his way to the elevators.
Score! he thinks, then executes a few slightly unethical maneuvers so that he can cut in ahead and get on the same elevator. To balance it all out, he heads to the back so that he can at least stay out of people’s way.
Luck is on his side today, though. In the crush of people, Boo Seungkwan from finance ends up right in front of Mingyu, his back pressed against Mingyu’s front.
This is a top five best day of my life, Mingyu thinks as the elevator starts climbing up floors. In the sea of people depressed that they have to go to work, Mingyu is the brightest star.
And why shouldn’t he be? He’s in an elevator with his crush on a Monday morning, how lucky is that?
Ahead of him, Seungkwan snorts a little. He’s got his earbuds in, so it might be a funny podcast or something.
Wow, that bedhead is amazing. Two locks of brown hair are falling just so on either side, creating a truly powerful baby bear silhouette. Mingyu feels his heart squeeze a little in his chest. Cute!
Boo Seungkwan from finance keeps to his own department for the most part, but the glimpses Mingyu’s been able to catch over the past half-year have created a strong impression. He’s a meticulous worker who’s also incredibly funny and has a sharp wit. Karaoke at the company party last November revealed that he has an encyclopedic knowledge of Kpop, and also looks incredible in a puffy skirt.
We would make such smart and funny and beautiful babies, Mingyu thinks longingly, then shakes his head. He can’t get ahead of himself! He has to take this journey one step at a time. He who would climb the ladder must begin at the bottom, et cetera et cetera.
For whatever reason, Seungkwan stiffens in front of him. His ears are pinking slightly, visible even through his messy hair.
Mingyu’s prevented from thinking any more about it because the elevator doors open just then to their company floor. Suddenly, Mingyu is not Mingyu, but only one of many faceless workers trying to swarm out those doors so they can clock in before nine. They each have a long day ahead of them, only Mingyu’s is more special because he has to make a good first impression in front of Boo Seungkwan from finance.
Of course, as soon as that thought passes through his head, Mingyu trips on his way out of the elevator. He watches in horror as his half-drunk cup of coffee sails through the air in slow motion.
It makes a perfect, beautiful arc. At the highest point of its parabola, the cap separates, freeing enough of the contents (half-ice, medium roast) to splash against the band of grey wool and white cuff on Boo Seungkwan from finance’s arm. The rest scatters on the ground, along with the cup.
“Oh, fuck,” Mingyu says.
“Whoah,” says Yoon Jeonghan, also from finance. Possibly the worst person to bear witness to this, and who Mingyu didn’t even realize was in the elevator with them. “Hahahah. Wow hahaha. Good morning, Kim Mingyu-ssi.”
“I’m so, so sorry,” Mingyu says, to both the hallway at large and to Seungkwan in particular. He can feel an ugly flush climb up his face. He’s about to get on his hands and knees. “Let me help clean that up. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”
Jeonghan has handed Seungkwan a handkerchief to pat down his arm. The light pink cotton is staining brown.
“No worries,” Boo Seungkwan from finance says with a stiff smile. Mingyu can feel his heart sink down to his stomach. “It’s fine, it happens.”
“I’ll call the custodian,” Yoon Jeonghan, also from finance, says breezily. He guides Seungkwan around the mess on the floor, winking at Mingyu. “Accidents happen, Mingyu-ssi! Don’t worry about it and just get to your cubicle~ Let’s do well today~”
“Right,” Mingyu says miserably. He watches the two of them make their way down the hallway, until Seungkwan’s bear-shaped bedhead disappears round the corner. Then, he has to slink down to the marketing department, where, somehow, Seokmin has already heard about the coffee incident, and is waiting by Mingyu’s desk with a look of pity.
—
D-18
No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy. That’s fine, though. Mingyu is resilient.
But as resilient as he is, he’s still too humiliated to even attempt to submit the budget proposal. He sends Chan instead, who is gone for fifteen minutes and comes back with news that Boo Seungkwan-ssi in finance actually isn’t that bad and that they have a lot in common. Which is a little annoying, but it’s fine— Mingyu just has to regroup.
For better or worse, the next few days are busy— results from an A-B test are back and Mingyu has to organize the plan for the next testing round, so there’s no real chance to head over to the finance department and scope out the territory.
But that, too, is fine. He takes the time to lick his wounds and hope that Seungkwan has somehow forgotten about the whole fiasco.
Today, he’s convinced Seokmin to grab a mid-afternoon coffee with him (cap firmly secured) and walk casually around the hallway where the finance department is situated and say hello casually to anybody they happen to come across.
“This is so dumb,” Seokmin is telling him, after taking a prim little sip from his mug.
Seokmin’s started bringing his own blend of beans to the office and has been trying to convince Mingyu of the merits of Guatemalan roasts. Mingyu’s tried it— It’s like, fine. It’s good. There’s not much else he can say; Mingyu’s kind of got bigger concerns than flavor profiles.
“Every time you call my plan dumb, the chances of you being invited to our wedding get lower and lower,” Mingyu says. “Myungho will be my best man.”
“Myungho was always going to be your best man,” Seokmin sniffs, although he does look a little hurt by it.
“Keep wishing ill upon me and you won’t even get to sing,” Mingyu says. “Not one song,” he adds, at the look on Seokmin’s face.
“You’re an evil man,” Seokmin says darkly, then smiles wide at someone coming down the hallway. “Hi! Hayoung-ssi! Seungkwan!”
A shot at redemption. Song Hayoung and Boo Seungkwan, both from finance, have materialized in the hallway, probably on the way to the company cafeteria for their own mid-afternoon break.
Hayoung smiles prettily. “Good afternoon, Seokmin-ssi, Mingyu-ssi! Nice day today!”
It actually isn’t; the windows spanning the length of the hallway look out at a gray, stormy sky. It hailed instead of snowed on the way to work. But Mingyu doesn’t know Hayoung enough to tell if she’s joking— with Yoon Jeonghan heading their department, pretty much anything goes.
Still, Mingyu puts on a brave face. “It is a great day. I love winter,” he says nonsensically. Seokmin gives him A Look. “Afternoon, Hayoung-ssi. Seungkwan-ssi.”
“Afternoon, Mingyu-ssi,” Seungkwan says politely.
Oh, sweet sound of Mingyu’s name falling from Boo Seungkwan from finance’s lips. It perks Mingyu right up, even though Seungkwan’s eyeing Mingyu’s coffee with some alarm. That stings a little, but Mingyu will overcome it.
“Are you two headed to the cafeteria?” Seokmin asks, because despite their differences, he’s still a true friend.
“Yup,” Seungkwan says. He’s in a dark blue suit today, with a light gray tie. The blue brings out the richness of his brown hair beautifully. “We’re still working on budget requests today. I need coffee or I’ll die.”
“Your fifth or sixth of the day?” Seokmin teases. Oh, so they have inside jokes? Well Mingyu can do that, too. Will do that. Eventually.
“Only fifth,” Seungkwan says with a straight face, and then laughs. His cheeks go up and his eyes crinkle. Cute!!!
But Mingyu’s not going to push; he’s playing a long game. “Haha, tell me about it,” Mingyu says. “Anyway! Don’t let us keep you. Fighting!” He clamps his hand around Seokmin’s arm and steers them out of Seungkwan’s and Hayoung’s way, waving good bye.
Seungkwan looks mildly nonplussed, but waves anyway. Mingyu waits for him and Hayoung to move further down the hall before letting go of Seokmin.
“That went so well,” he tells Seokmin, relaxing enough to finally smile about it. “I think I made an impression.”
“You know,” Seokmin says, shaking his head. “Sometimes I feel like I should try to understand you better, but then you do things like this and I realize that it’s better if I don’t.”
Mingyu doesn’t even grace that with a reply. Again, bigger fish to fry.
—
D-17
As important as it is for Mingyu to complete his self-appointed quest to make Boo Seungkwan from finance fall in love with him, or at least fall in like with him, he still has to work.
The hiring round for interns hasn’t started yet, and they’re a little swamped with getting their budget proposals out the door so that the finance department can approve them. While Chan is their youngest and usually in charge of the more menial work, he’s been spirited away by department head Choi Seungcheol for a seminar that’s supposed to, quote, “build his resilience and marketing skills.” Mingyu’s already been on one of those; the food was all right, at least.
So, it’s up to Mingyu to face one of the most dreaded tasks of all: wrangling their 150cm tall office printers, which are supposedly only three years old but require ancient magic to photocopy a single page correctly.
In the spirit of fairness, Mingyu, Seokmin, and Minghao battle it out with rock-paper-scissors, but a poor decision on rock means that Mingyu still ends up on photocopying duty. Seokmin and Minghao send him off with a stack of forms and the promise that they will try to look for his body, should he not return in three days. Which is funny. Ha ha. His friends are funny.
Mingyu is an eternal optimist, but even the strongest soldier might be shaken by the long, lonely journey to the printer room and the sight of Kwon Soonyoung from sales with his hands dark with toner.
“What,” Mingyu says, stopping short at the door.
“Oh ho!” says Kwon Soonyoung from sales. He holds up his black-tinted hands in tiger claws. “Kim Mingyu-ssi from marketing. My rival. ”
“Okay,” Mingyu says, since this might as well be happening. “Good morning, Soonyoung-ssi. Is everything okay in here…?” He gestures to Soonyoung’s hands wordlessly.
Soonyoung flexes his tiger claws. Some divine power must be stopping him from making an accompanying tiger sound, but Mingyu can see the urge in his eyes.
“Everything’s gooood,” he says cheerfully, then pauses, considering. “Okay maybe not! One printer isn’t working. I tried to fix it but it might be dead forever. But this one—” He kicks the other printer, which makes a scary rattling sound, “— should be okay.”
Mingyu hesitates, eyeing the printer. They’ve got smaller ones in their departments, but these machines are the only ones that have the photocopying function. It’s probably time for the procurement team to get them a new set, but that’s none of Mingyu’s business.
The stack of forms weighs heavy in Mingyu’s hands.
“Right,” he says, shifting his weight slightly. “Guess I’ll… use this one then.”
“Yup,” Soonyoung says, popping the ‘p’.
“Because it works,” Mingyu offers slowly.
“Uh huh,” Soonyoung nods.
“It’s the working printer,” Mingyu says again, just to be sure.
Soonyoung nods emphatically. “Absolutely.”
Kwon Soonyoung from sales is a little crazy, but Mingyu doesn’t have any other choice. He feeds a sheet of paper into the intake end, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding stirring in his chest.
They watch eagerly as the printer beeps. The form disappears slowly into the machine with a rattle. Then a red light on the LED blinks.
“Was it this one?” Soonyoung asks.
The printer makes a weird hacking noise.
“No, it was definitely this one…” Soonyoung puts a hand up to his chin thoughtfully, and now his chin is covered in toner.
The printer shudders.
“Paper jam,” Soonyoung says helpfully.
“Oh my god,” Mingyu says, throwing his hands up in the air. He presses the pause button on the machine and lifts the top section. It fights him, but he wins. The paper he fed into the printer is there, all crumpled up and sad.
“Oh,” says Boo Seungkwan from finance, from the door. He’s got his own folder of papers in his hands. His hair is neatly set today. His suit is dark gray. “Is the printer working?”
“Totally,” Soonyoung says. “Mingyu-ssi from marketing is fixing it right now.”
Of course, that’s exactly the moment when the LED on the printer seizes up and blacks out with Mingyu’s hands in its guts, so. Go figure.
—
D-13
Mingyu’s never met a problem that he can’t overcome, but this thing with Seungkwan is a little harder than he thought it would be.
Mingyu has bumped into him three times over the past week, and each time fate has conspired against him. After the printer incident, Mingyu tripped over his own feet again and dropped his reports all over the floor in the finance department. Then, Seungkwan passed by their table in the company cafeteria just as Mingyu lost his grip on his tangsuyuk and dropped it on his lap. And finally, they had a completely normal interaction where Mingyu handed over another budget proposal to him and their hands! Brushed! But then Seungkwan made an odd face, so Mingyu can’t tell if that one should go in the win or lose column.
No matter. This weekend they’re going on a company MT to Gangwon-do, and it’ll be his chance. Two nights, two days at a ski resort— the falling snow, the cold weather. Mingyu’s had his fair share of winter dates. He knows exactly what works and how to work his charm.
The first hurdle is the bus ride, though. The company has contracted two buses to take them through the hour and a half trip from Seoul. It’s first come, first served— Mingyu was early, but not early enough.
Chan and Seungkwan seem to have struck up a friendship, and it’s Chan who gets the coveted seat beside him on Bus A. Mingyu has to be contented with sitting next to Minghao, who lends him an earbud so that they can both listen to his 10-hour long meditation singing bowls ASMR playlist. Mingyu’s never heard a bowl sing before, but it’s actually great background noise for helping Mingyu focus on his plan.
The plan is Mingyu corners Chan on the way to the toilets at the rest stop.
“Chan-ah,” Mingyu says before Chan can disappear through the door to the men’s room. “Switch with me on the way back.”
Chan looks up, surprised. He’s holding a pack of wipes in his hand; Mingyu pretends he doesn’t see it. They’re close, but not bowel movements close. “Why, hyung?”
“Just,” Mingyu starts, then sighs. He’s halfway through his self-imposed timeline and no progress has been made so far. What does he have to lose at this point? “Chan. Do you believe in true love?”
“Okay, stop right there,” Chan says, wrinkling his nose. “Whatever. I got it, just don’t say any more.”
Success!!! Mingyu claps Chan on the shoulder and walks back to the bus, swinging his plastic bag of snacks as he goes.
Bus A is half empty when he gets there, most of the passengers probably off buying their own snacks and souvenirs or in line for the toilets like Chan is. Seungkwan is there, though, typing something into his phone with his lips pursed.
Cute, Mingyu thinks in despair, and then goes to take his seat beside him.
Seungkwan looks up at him, surprised. “Mingyu-ssi,” he says, pulling his jacket out of the way from where he’s flung it over Chan’s seat. He gives Mingyu a onceover, seemingly at a loss for words. “Hi?”
“Hi,” Mingyu beams, “Seungkwan-ssi. How are you doing?”
“Good,” Seungkwan says cautiously, looking around. “Um. I actually… I was sitting next to Lee Chan-ssi from marketing…”
“I know,” Mingyu says quickly. “Chan asked to switch places. He says he gets carsick, haha, who would have thought! So. There. We’ve switched places.”
Seungkwan, who of course has had a front-row seat to Chan not getting carsick for the last hour, frowns. “Oh,” is all he says. “Well… all right.” He retreats back to his side, keeping his arms to himself.
Mingyu feels his smile falter a little. But it’s okay! Perhaps Boo Seungkwan from finance is simply a polite young man who adheres carefully to the five fundamental relationships in Confucian philosophy. Perhaps he’s simply deferring to the office hierarchy and giving Mingyu, newly-made team leader, his space.
Mingyu’s prepared to break this ice. He holds up his plastic bag of snacks. The sides of the bag strain with all the stuff he’s crammed into it.
“Hungry?” he asks encouragingly. “I bought— Well actually I bought a lot, but let me know if you want anything! Sweet, savory, spicy squid chips, I’ve got it all. Haha,” he tacks on after seeing the expression on Seungkwan’s face.
“I’m actually fine—” Seungkwan begins, but then his stomach growls loudly. He flushes immediately and puts his hands up to his face. “I’m sorry.”
Cute!!! Mingyu thinks.
Out loud, he says, “No need to be sorry, Seungkwan-ssi! That’s just peristalsis. Completely natural.”
Seungkwan removes one hand and looks at Mingyu sidelong. His face is almost comically expressive, although it does suck that many of the more… negative ones are being sent Mingyu’s way. So maybe Mingyu could have kept his voice down a bit just then, but. No regrets! Live in the moment!
So instead Mingyu just says, “Spicy squid chips?” and offers Seungkwan the pack. Happily, Seungkwan takes it.
“Thank you,” he says, still pink around the ears. He tries to open the bag, but his arms strain with the effort.
“I’ve got it,” Mingyu says, taking it back. He pulls it open easily— no mishaps!— and offers Seungkwan the first chip.
“Thank you,” Seungkwan says, taking it. Then he laughs, his eyes scrunching up into crescent moons.
Ohhh my god, Mingyu thinks. He could crush rocks right now from cute aggression.
“Sorry?” Mingyu says, besotted.
“No, I should be sorry,” Seungkwan says. He’s still smiling. “I was scared you were going to pop the bag open and spill everything. Sorry,” he adds again. “It just seems to happen with you a lot. I spill stuff too, though.”
“Ah, well,” Mingyu says, embarrassed. Curse his huge body that he grew into too fast and still hasn’t learned how to manage. “That does sometimes happen…”
“It’s fine,” Seungkwan replies. He takes a bite out of the spicy squid chip, crunching happily. “It’s kind of cute. Is that weird to say?”
“Not at all,” Mingyu grins. He leans back against his own chair (formerly Chan’s), satisfied.
Success.
—
D-12
Most of the weekend is spent doing team building activities, so there’s not much time to interact with Seungkwan except for meal times. By the close of the second day, Mingyu’s just about had it up to here with building his team.
“Hyung, I think we’re good,” he tells Choi Seungcheol, marketing department head, during their third trust circle exercise. “Our team is super strong already. I think Seokmin’s going to hurl.”
“He’s fine,” says Seungcheol dismissively, waving a hand at Seokmin as he’s spun around in an increasingly violent and erratic circle. “Mingyu, this is a metaphor for the tempestuous whirlpool of daily life. How else is he going to understand that his team is here to give him happiness during a swirling day, a steep road? That we’ll warmly hold his hands during a cold day, even if he loses his path?”
“I love this,” says Jeonghan, finance department head, who is also here, somehow. “This is my favorite thing ever.”
“Jeonghan-ah,” Seungcheol says reprovingly. His expression doesn’t match his tone; he’s thrilled that Jeonghan is beside him, sipping a strawberry milk as Seokmin is flung from side to side. “You should be managing your team. But it’s also fine if you’re here. I’m just saying.”
“They’re good,” Jeonghan says cheerfully. “They’re skiing. Park Jiwon fell and had to go to the infirmary, but I think she’s back out there.”
“We should be skiing,” Chan mutters, from Mingyu’s other side. “I thought we were going to ski.”
“That’s just part of the tempestuous whirlpool of daily life, Chan,” says Seungcheol. “Do you want a turn in the trust circle?”
And so on.
But there’s a bright spot, even if Mingyu’s getting sick of seeing the marketing team’s faces. After dinner, by the vending machines, he spots Boo Seungkwan from finance contemplating the list of milk flavors. Mingyu’s got nothing to lose at this point; he jogs right on over.
“Hi,” Mingyu grins once he’s drawn up beside Seungkwan. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Seungkwan must have already showered. His hair is lightly damp, and his cheeks look pink and warm. He gives Mingyu an answering smile, which makes Mingyu’s heart in his chest grow three sizes bigger.
“Hi,” he says. “I just wanted to get something sweet before bed. Not sure I want to get back out there, honestly.” By out there, he means the resort’s noraebang, which is huge and currently filled with drunk employees fighting over their turn on the mic.
“You sounded amazing, though,” Mingyu offers. Inside, he’s cheering. A conversation! A real conversation with Boo Seungkwan from finance! “I’ve never seen anybody cover Tell Me with that much… emotion.”
Seungkwan laughs. “Thanks, I think? I mean, I still want to sing! But before I left, Soonyoung from sales was already passed out and I’m scared your department leader is going to make me drink again.”
“He does do that,” Mingyu says darkly, having narrowly avoided another full bottle of soju before he made his own escape. He gestures to the vending machine. “Got your eye on anything? My treat.”
“No way,” Seungkwan shakes his head. “My turn to get you something! As payment for the snacks.”
Well, it’s not like Mingyu’s going to say no?!
“Sure,” he says happily. “Chocolate milk, please.”
Seungkwan salutes— cutely— and feeds the coins into the machine. Mingyu is overcome suddenly with feelings of gratefulness for Choi Seungcheol. Sometimes you need a crazy overbearing department leader who promises brotherhood for life and scares your office crush out of the noraebang.
Top ten best days of my life, Mingyu thinks as Seungkwan hands him the bottle of milk, still slightly warm from the machine. Their hands brush— Amazing!!!— and Seungkwan’s lips purse a little.
“You know,” Seungkwan tells him. His cheeks might be getting pinker; Mingyu’s not so sure. “You’re actually really… nice. I didn’t think you’d be this nice.”
Mingyu’s suddenly alert. “Why? Did Seokmin say anything about me? Don’t listen to him. We’re friends but we have a weird tension.”
Seungkwan shakes his head. “No, hyung didn’t say anything. It’s just because of… stuff,” he says cryptically. Then he smiles and holds his own chocolate milk up for a toast. “Geonbae!”
Their bottles clink, and it’s super cute, so Mingyu just puts the rest of it out of his mind.
—
D-10
Mingyu spends the next couple of days after the company MT floating on cloud nine.
While he and Boo Seungkwan from finance ended up in different buses for the trip home, Seungkwan did smile at him on their way out of the ski resort, which is an incredible win in Mingyu’s books. His chaotic first impression(s) seem to now be a thing of the past, replaced by normal, reasonable interactions.
He says as much to Minghao over lunch, proudly. Minghao’s eyebrows don’t make it all the way up to his hairline, but it’s a close thing.
“I’m so glad he thinks you’re a normal, reasonable human being,” Minghao says gravely. “It was my dearest wish for you, as your friend.”
“Thank you,” Mingyu tells him. “I know that was sarcastic, but thank you anyway. This is it, Myungho-yah. I can really feel the tide changing. We’re making a connection.”
“You’re halfway through your timeline,” Minghao says. “I feel like you should be way past making a connection at this point?”
Mingyu shrugs. “Some setbacks, here and there. Like, a few. But it’s fine! No plan is perfect.” He waves his chopsticks around in the air to illustrate. “I can reassess and revise. How’s ‘twenty-one days to get Boo Seungkwan from finance’s number’ sound?”
“As always, your quixotic personal journey remains compelling to me,” Minghao says. “Sure, why not. Let’s switch it up. Maybe you want to change the timeline, too? How’s twenty-one years sound?”
“Hah! Every time you and Seokmin neg me, I grow stronger,” Mingyu says, trying to sound threatening.
“It’s out of love— Oh?” Minghao’s head ducks down. He pokes Mingyu in the side, hard. “Target approaching at ten o’ clock.”
“What?” Mingyu says. Then, “Oh my god. Hi. Hi!!!”
Seungkwan has come up to their table with a determined look on his face. He nods awkwardly at Minghao, then turns to Mingyu. He holds out his phone with two hands, the screen activated and set to a blank contact page.
“Mingyu-ssi,” he says. He’s pink around the cheeks and ears, and the phone is trembling slightly. “If it’s not too much trouble. Could I have your number?”
Whoah.
“Whoah,” Mingyu says, his voice cracking. He clears his throat. “Of course! Yeah!” He takes the phone and types in his number quickly, only stumbling over it twice. His palms are super sweaty; he only narrowly avoids dropping Seungkwan’s phone as he hands it back.
“Thank you,” Seungkwan says seriously. “I’ll text you, if that’s okay. Have a great day.” He turns around stiffly and walks away. Across the cafeteria, Chwe Hansol from sales is giving him a thumbs up.
Mingyu’s mouth has been hanging open for a hot minute. He closes it with a click, then whirls around to look back at Minghao.
“Did you see that??” he says. He can feel a belated flush climbing up his own neck. “That just happened!”
“It was hard to miss,” Minghao says dryly. His expression softens, though, and he’s amused. “Congrats.”
“Thanks!!!” Mingyu grins, wide. “All part of the plan!!!”
“You didn’t do anything, though,” Minghao starts, then sighs. “You know what, fine.” He raises a fist in the air and waves it weakly. “Yayyy.”
—
D-7
Against all odds, Boo Seungkwan from finance texts him. And, even crazier, he asks Mingyu out on a date.
His text came in on Friday night and said, Hi, Mingyu-ssi. This is Boo Seungkwan from finance. Are you free this Sunday for coffee? There’s a new cafe near my neighborhood. I heard from Seokmin-hyung that you like South American beans.
Okay, strictly speaking, Mingyu couldn’t give two fucks about South American beans. But if Seokmin is lying to help Mingyu on his path to true love, then he’s a real one.
Mingyu sent a silent thank you to Seokmin and typed back, Yes!!! Hi, this is Kim Mingyu from marketing. I’d love some coffee. ^^ See you Sunday, 2pm? ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
The kaomoji heart might have been overkill, but Mingyu couldn’t waste time asking for a second opinion. Either way, it works out fine: Now Mingyu is seated across from Seungkwan at a pretty little cafe in Yeonnam-dong, trying to pretend he knows anything about Guatemala.
“This flavor profile,” Mingyu is saying. “Is so.” His brain feels like it’s going to overheat from trying to figure out what to say. He ends up with a lame, “Good. It’s good.”
Is this convincing? Seungkwan is nodding.
“Right,” he says. “It’s definitely… Some really good coffee.”
As short notice as it was, Mingyu did his best to prep for this date. He got a haircut on Saturday, got his nicest winter coat dry cleaned, and put on a super hydrating face mask the night before. He even got a quick workout in in the morning, to boost his endorphins and get rid of some after-sleep puffiness.
The cafe is nice, too— there are colorful posters and photos from different coffee capitals all over the walls, and the music is some muted amapiano that makes Mingyu feel especially young and hip and cool. So everything should be good, really.
But there’s a wall Mingyu can’t seem to overcome, either on his end or Seungkwan’s. It’s probably nervousness— Mingyu hopes it’s just nervousness. The conversation is stilted and awkward, and Mingyu had to scan the menu for any beans that looked like they were from the vicinity of Guatemala. And they’re nice! The beans are nice! You were right, Lee Seokmin!
Even so, Mingyu still can’t seem to get over the wall. The Boo Seungkwan who did the Catallena cover in November was funny, cute, and larger than life. This one sitting in front of him today is quiet and pensive, looking out the window at passersby on the street more than he’s looking at Mingyu.
But Mingyu’s not the type to give up. He’s made it through every setback in his life through sheer willpower and positivity. He’s not going to let a treasured date with his office crush go downhill!
“Ugh,” Mingyu says. Seungkwan looks up at him, surprised and wary. “Sorry. I can’t do this! Seungkwan-ssi, I have to confess… I don’t know a damn thing about coffee. I’m sorry. I just drink it so I can wake up in the mornings.”
That startles a laugh out of Seungkwan. The smooth planes of his face animate— there’s the round cheeks, and the half-moon eyes that Mingyu likes so much. Mingyu can feel himself relaxing just watching him.
“Oh, thank god,” Seungkwan says. “I thought you were an expert like Seokmin-hyung!” He leans in, conspiratorial. “Me too. I just always ask for an iced americano to go. Why did you say ‘flavor profile?’ I got so nervous!”
“I don’t know,” Mingyu whines. He slumps back in his chair, sighing in relief. “It just felt like a thing I should say. The pressure got to me.”
“Right. Let’s not feel pressured,” Seungkwan says, smiling for real. He plays around with his teaspoon, flipping it around in his fingers. Nervous tic? Cute… “Thanks again for coming out here to see me. I know it must have been weird that I contacted you, since we barely know each other…”
Not for lack of trying, Mingyu laments in his own head. Then he course corrects. Reassess, revise! This is an opportunity!
He lets that energy push him forward to take Seungkwan’s hand in his. Seungkwan startles but doesn’t pull away— a good sign!
“Seungkwan-ssi,” Mingyu says earnestly. “I know I haven’t made the, uh, best first impressions, but I’d actually really, really like to get to know you better. I was so happy you asked for my number. Ecstatic, even! I mean it.”
Usually in conversations when Mingyu gets earnest like this, he likes to maintain eye contact. The eyes are the windows to the soul, and Mingyu has particular large, shiny ones. He’s also been compared frequently throughout his life to all kinds of dogs, big and small, so the association really works for him.
For whatever reason, though, Seungkwan can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. His eyes flit from where their hands are clasped, up to Mingyu’s face, then back down again to their hands. He pushes his lips out in a little pout.
Aaargh, Mingyu thinks. How can one person be this cute and round?!?
Something changes in Seungkwan’s face— a decision, maybe? He looks up and into Mingyu’s eyes with that determined expression again.
“Me too,” he says. “I’d really like to get to know you better, too.”
Mingyu grins from ear to ear. “Great,” he says, meaning it. “Let’s work hard at getting to know each other, then, Seungkwan-ssi.”
—
D-3
Even though their coffee date got off to a rocky start, it ended really well. They spent hours at that little cafe, then moved to a nearby chimaek restaurant for dinner. They talked all the way to the bus stop, and Boo Seungkwan from finance had even clasped Mingyu’s hand in his right before he had to board his bus.
“Thanks again,” Seungkwan had said. The streetlights (and the purple and green signage of the nearby CU) reflected in his round eyes looked like little stars. “I had a really great time.”
Mingyu held himself back from begging for a second date, but just barely. Instead, he’d smiled, cool as anything, and replied in a gentle voice. “Me too. I’ll text you?”
Seungkwan had only smiled wider. “Sure.”
That dream of a first date has carried Mingyu through the week. The memory of it is bolstered by their KaTalk conversations, which are sporadic during the day and last for hours through the night. Mingyu is literally living past-Mingyu’s dream right now. How great is that?
“So did you kiss?” Seokmin is asking now, under the cool florescent lights of their office.
Mingyu sighs, morose. It’s only an hour or two until the end of the workday— the longest hours of all.
“No,” he says, pouting at his laptop. The cursor on his consumer data sheet blinks, mocking him. “It didn’t feel like the right time. Seungkwan is actually really sweet and shy and cute, you know. He didn’t know anything about coffee.”
“I already know that,” Seokmin huffs. “BooSeokSoon bond, remember?” Mingyu just rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I know he doesn’t know anything about coffee, but he didn’t know that you didn’t know anything about coffee. If I hadn’t lied then where would you be right now, Kim Mingyu?” He doesn’t even wait for Mingyu to reply, saying, “That’s right! No number and no cute Seungkwan texts.”
“Is anybody here working?” Chan from across the table asks the room at large. “Like, is anybody doing any work at all?”
“Okay, fine,” Mingyu says begrudgingly, ignoring Chan. “Thanks, Min-ah.”
“I know,” Seokmin says, then sighs. “Listen, I know I keep making fun of you, but actually. I think it’s really cute, what you’re doing! I’m a hopeless romantic. I love love! Watching you stumble around is just crazy, though.”
Trust Seokmin to not be able to compliment Mingyu properly. Whatever, Mingyu’s used to it— by mutual understanding, they’ve saved the gentle, lovey-dovey stuff for Minghao, and the fists and claws for each other. It works, anyway.
“I’m not stumbling around,” Mingyu insists. “I told you, I’ve got a plan!”
“You’ve got three days to complete your plan,” Seokmin points out. “Are you and Seungkwan even dating yet?”
“No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy,” Mingyu recites.
Seokmin, to his credit, doesn’t roll his eyes, but he does say, “Oh, here we go.”
Mingyu plows on, undeterred. “These things take time,” he says, as if he wasn’t the one to set the twenty-one day deadline. “Seungkwan-ssi and I are going slow. We’re meeting with good feelings. Just the one time, for now, but there will be more.”
Across from them, Mingyu can hear Chan muttering, “I graduated from university for this…”
“Right,” Seokmin says. He’s already losing interest in the conversation, turning back to his laptop. “And when is the next time?”
Mingyu pauses. “The next what?”
Seokmin actually puts his hands over his face. “The next date,” he says, muffled through his hands. “Mingyu-yah, you’re killing me.”
Mingyu was kind of hoping it would happen organically, but Seokmin is right. It’s high time he made the next move. Boo Seungkwan from finance said he wants to get to know Mingyu better! He might even like Mingyu now!
“This weekend,” Mingyu says primly. He pulls out his phone under the table and sends Seungkwan a message: R u free Sunday for dinner and drinks? ^^
The reply is instantaneous: Yes ^^ What time?
Mingyu thinks for a second, then types: 7pm? ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡
Seungkwan replies: Ok ^^
Mingyu looks up at Seokmin again. “This Sunday,” he announces, “7pm. And the plan has changed, by the way. It’s now ‘twenty-one days to get Boo Seungkwan from finance to date me.’ FYI.”
“Great,” Seokmin says.
“I’m adaptable,” says Mingyu.
“Okay,” Seokmin says.
“And now,” Mingyu adds, waking up his laptop again. He can feel the excitement bubbling inside of him— another date! Sunday! Life is worth living. “I’m going to finish work today, and finish work tomorrow, and then finally enjoy my weekend.”
“Thank god,” says Lee Chan from across the table.
—
D-1
Mingyu spends his Saturday morning at the gym. A burst of optimism while doing some lunges has him passing by the supermarket afterwards, for some snacks, soju, and an extra toothbrush in case tomorrow goes really well and Seungkwan stays the night. And also some condoms and lube. Fortune favors the prepared mind.
He uses the rest of his afternoon to clean his whole apartment: scrubbing the bathroom, vacuuming every corner, dusting his bookshelves. He runs a fresh load of laundry and changes his sheets, fluffing up the extra pillow he rarely uses— just in case.
The whole day passes by like this, which is why it’s just Mingyu’s luck that he gets a text from Seungkwan while he’s lying sweaty and spread-eagled on his floor at nine in the evening.
Seungkwan’s text reads: Hi, Mingyu-ssi. I got your address from hyung, I’m by the park near your apartment. Is it all right if we talk for a bit?
Uh oh. What could he mean?
No, scratch that. Not uh oh. This is fine. It’s super cool and great, actually, that Seungkwan wanted to see Mingyu so much that he texted ahead of their special date. Mingyu made like three different reservations, one for dinner at a nice restaurant, the other for a wine bar at 10pm, and the third one for a tour of a helipad overlooking Seoul (he might scrap this last one, actually, depending on his nerves). Meeting up like this beforehand is good; it might take the pressure off.
Mingyu texts back: Yeah of course!!!!! One sec, and takes the world’s fastest shower. He’s dressed and out the door in three minutes— possibly a new world record.
There’s no snow tonight, but it’s still cold. Seungkwan is sitting on a swing set, dressed in a huge gray puffer jacket like a little snow bear. Mingyu has to break out of the habit of comparing him to cute animals eventually, but not today.
“Hey,” Mingyu says breathlessly once he gets to Seungkwan. “Sorry I took a while. Is everything okay? Do you need anything?”
“It’s fine,” Seungkwan says. He stands up from the swing set, dusting his hands off on his jacket. “Everything’s fine! Sorry for calling you out here so late.”
“No, it’s all good,” Mingyu replies, like they’re in the world’s bizarrest game of word tennis. Seungkwan looks nervous, but it could be anything, really. Maybe he’s just embarrassed about the imposition. “Um. Is this about tomorrow? Because I did make some plans, but it’s totally cool if you want to do something else.”
“No,” Seungkwan says, then corrects himself. “I mean, no as in, I’m still game for tomorrow! Tomorrow is still great! But.”
Seungkwan takes a deep breath. He looks determined. Mingyu, meanwhile, is starting to feel maybe a little anxious.
“Mingyu-ssi,” Seungkwan says. “Now that we’re here, I have to tell you something really important.” He shakes his head. “No— Before that, I have to apologize. It’s wrong, actually, that I’ve kept this from you so long.”
Mingyu’s face falls. Is Boo Seungkwan from finance… carrying a deep and dark secret? Is this the part where the tonal shift in the drama happens, and Mingyu’s forced to descend into a life of white collar crime?
Nevertheless, he rallies. Some barriers are nothing in the face of real love.
“Seungkwan-ssi,” he says bravely. He tries to project seriousness and sincerity from his eyes, and takes Seungkwan’s hands in his. “For legal reasons, I can’t say that I agree with activities like fraud or embezzlement. But if there’s anything you need me to do, I’ll do it. For you.”
“What?” Seungkwan says, bewildered. “No. I’m saying I can read minds.”
Huh?
“I didn’t realize my feelings were so obvious,” Mingyu starts.
Seungkwan sighs through his nose. He grips Mingyu’s hands tighter. Oh! Okay! Despite all evidence that Boo Seungkwan is a proper Confucian man, he’s actually really hip and forward. Mingyu takes note.
“No,” Seungkwan says. “I mean that when I touch people, I can literally read their minds. Like, I can hear your thoughts right now.”
Mingyu pauses. All right, weird way to put it. Perhaps Seungkwan has a flair for the dramatic, just like Seokmin. It’s fine! It’s cute!
“Oh, cool! Me too, I’m really enjoying how great our synergy is right now!” Mingyu tries to smile, although he can feel his mouth struggling to pull up at the corners.
“You just called me weird in your head,” Seungkwan points out. Then, he flushes. “And you thought I was, um. Cute.”
Mingyu opens his mouth. He closes it. He opens it again.
Can you read my thoughts right now, he tries sounding out in his head. He does it a second time for good measure, but slower.
“Yes,” Seungkwan says. The flush has climbed all the way to his forehead.
Cute, Mingyu thinks. Then he thinks, Oh. Holy shit.
“Yeah…” Seungkwan sighs. Those beloved round cheeks, the starring feature of many an idle daydream at Mingyu’s desk, start to fall sadly. “Look, I know it was wrong of me— I should have said something from the start…” Seungkwan tries to pull his hands out of Mingyu’s.
Instinct makes Mingyu grab on tight.
“I don’t think it’s wrong at all!” he says quickly, ducking down so that he can telegraph sincerity straight from his eyes into Seungkwan’s. “Uh. How long have you been able to do this. Like, your whole life?”
Seungkwan shakes his head again. “No, I just— Ugh! This sounds so weird.”
“I can do weird,” Mingyu says in a faint voice.
“I just had a bizarre dream during my birthday a couple of weeks ago,” Seungkwan explains. “There was this talking plushie with a diamond on its head— anyway. Beside the point. Basically, when I woke up, all of a sudden I could do… This.” He lifts their still-joined hands to illustrate. Then, he says quickly, “I know you said you l— liked me, but I also know that this is a huge betrayal of your trust and privacy. I understand if you need some time or if you, um, don’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
Mingyu tries to imagine it. That this whole time, every instance they’ve touched, Seungkwan has been able to read his mind.
“Did I think any weird thoughts,” he asks, just to be sure.
Seungkwan pouts out his lips, considering. He looks like a tiny baby duck.
Ugh. Too cute, Mingyu thinks. Then he thinks, Uh-oh, he can read my thoughts.
“Nothing more than usual,” Seungkwan says cryptically. “Uh, we really don’t have to be holding hands for this, if it bothers you.”
“It doesn’t bother me at all,” Mingyu tries out. With the words out there, it does feel true. Which is good. Great, even! Of course! “I still like you. Really!” he adds at Seungkwan’s doubtful expression. “I like how hard you work, and I like how thoughtful you are, and I like how you do things that make you look cute without even trying. Your, um, superpowers… I like them too!” Mingyu squeezes Seungkwan’s hands again. “I like you, Boo Seungkwan.”
I’m super SINCEEERE, Mingyu thinks in his head, for good measure.
Seungkwan is so, so red right now. It’s amazing.
“Okay,” he says. He looks up at Mingyu with his big, round eyes. “For the record, I like you too,” he adds, in a small voice. He sighs. “Sorry, I know you had a big date planned for tomorrow… I hope I didn’t spoil it.”
“No way,” Mingyu grins. He uses his hands to pull Seungkwan closer, then lets go of Seungkwan’s hands so he can wrap his arms around his shoulders. “This is amazing. This is better than a date. Are we dating?”
“We can be,” Seungkwan offers, his voice muffled a little by Mingyu’s huge chest. “I mean! I want to be dating.”
“Me too,” Mingyu says happily. He squeezes Seungkwan tighter. “I want to be dating, too. This is the best day of my life.” After a few more seconds of this, he asks, “Can you hear my thoughts louder if I hug you?”
“What?” says Seungkwan, formerly Boo Seungkwan of finance, and now Boo Seungkwan, Kim Mingyu’s boyfriend. “No. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Figures,” Mingyu says. Then, suddenly, he remembers. “I was supposed to ask you tomorrow. Tomorrow is the twenty-first day.”
“Huh?” Seungkwan asks. He is definitely leaning his cheek a lot more against Mingyu’s pec. Thank god for bench presses and the muscle-building powers of protein.
Mingyu just smiles. Sometimes it’s fine when things don’t turn out the way you expect them to. Mingyu could never have foreseen his plan turning out this way, for example— Okay the mind reading is kind of. He’s going to think about that one later— but he’s learning that that’s the great thing about Seungkwan. He’s always full of surprises.
“Nothing,” he says. “Just. You know what they say. No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy, or whatever.”
Then Mingyu leans down for a kiss. Seungkwan, he’s pleased to find, is already waiting for him.