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There was a time, a much simpler time, when Yoonsung had considered the BBQ joint next to their dorm to be simply just that: a BBQ joint.
Back when the members had just settled into their dorm, the neighboring corner store had suddenly shut down. For months, the building stood empty. Then, one day, a sign appeared on the door. “Korean BBQ. Grand Opening.” And just like that someone new had moved in. It was an elderly man, who was apparently finally fulfilling his lifelong dream of running his own tiny restaurant.
Thanks to this somewhat odd but endearing neighbor, the smell of smoky, sweet grease seeping through the dorm room windows turned into nothing out of the ordinary. And after a few weeks of relentless complaining, the members had to admit it kind of grew on them, becoming strangely comforting.
This small BBQ place next to their dorm was truly nothing special, but it had the kind of charm that came from being run by a man who clearly cared about two things: meat and apparently, Minho’s hands.
It was a Tuesday evening, long after the sun had set. They were sitting around the dorm’s large dinner table after finishing practice, all of them half-dead from their new choreography and living off shared takeout. The general exhaustion plunged the late night dinner into a comfortable silence. With all of their limbs aching, no one had been able save the day's energy for the usual evening chatter, and so only the scratching of cutlery and the occasional throat clearing could be heard. Yungyu, the lucky bastard, was spending a few days away to record his solo OST, leaving the remaining seven members to occupy themselves with countless practice schedules and challenge recordings.
Minho had gone out alone after they finished filming that day, which left the others behind to stay late at the vocal practice rooms. So Yoonsung only heard about it secondhand over dinner, when Minho said, mouth still full of rice: “The BBQ guy said I had nice hands.”
The room immediately went completely still, save for the hum of the rice cooker and Jaeyun’s slow chewing. At first, no one reacted. Seungheon passed the kimchi, Myungho kept scrolling through his phone as usual and Kyungmin just looked lost.
“…Excuse me?” Yoonsung said flatly, breaking the silence and setting his chopsticks down with deliberate care. His eyes flicked to the others. Another agonizing beat of silence followed.
“Minho got hit on.“ Jaeyun clarified with a slight grin, casually leaning back in his chair and looking utterly unbothered.
Across the table, Minho let out a noise halfway between a sigh and a dying animal.
“Oh my god, no.” He groaned, waving his hands dramatically. “I wasn’t hit on.”
“Oh, he was definitely hit on.” Haemin now chimed in, reaching for the rice bowl.
“I mean, I guess it’s a compliment?” Minho shrugged and stuffed another fully loaded spoon into his mouth. “Maybe he just appreciates defined knuckles.”
Yoonsung stared at him in disbelief. Then he stared at Minho’s hands like they had somehow betrayed him by being attractive. It was unsettling. Not the hands, exactly. The idea of the hands. Their potential. Their... public exposure. There was a strange tight feeling in his chest.
Seungheon slapped another spoonful of rice onto his plate. “Well that’s a new one. What kind of compliment even is that? Like what’s the metric? Nails-to-fingers ratio?”
“No, no.” Minho continued, either unaware or willfully ignoring the turmoil he had just triggered. “He called them pretty. Said I’d be good at flipping meat.”
This caused Myungho to choke on his salad, but before he could open his mouth for a comment, Jaeyun shot him a meaningful glare. Myungho coughed into his sleeve.
Yoonsung cleared his throat, looking down at his own empty plate. “Uh, pretty hands, huh? That’s…flattering.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kyungmin raise his eyebrow.
Pretty hands.
He gulped. That had to be code. There was no other way. The ‘flipping meat’ was a metaphor for… no, stop. He was not going to spiral. He was not.
He spiraled.
Minho, still focused on the pork belly trying to slip from his plate, glanced over to him.
“Yeah? You’re the one who always complains that your hands get dry. Maybe you need some lotion.”
Now dropping his chopsticks he raised his hands to his eyes, admiring them from all sides.
“I should start a hand modeling side hustle. You know. Flex the assets.”
Myungho, still gasping for air, let out a breathless giggle.
“Sure, sure. Some very ‘hands-on’ work.”
Minho grinned back. “I do like being appreciated for my grip.”
He turned to Jaeyun, who still looked like he deeply regretted being part of this conversation in the first place.
“Do you think I should name them?”
Jaeyun swallowed slowly.
“Like Leftie and Rightie?”
“No, like Meat Master and Man Tamer.”
Yoonsung, still frowning, once again squinted at Minho’s hands.
“We’re just letting strange men evaluate the attractiveness of our members appendages now? That’s normal?”
“Dude, the moment someone called your hands pretty you’d be absolutely insufferable.” Haemin responded.
Yoonsung rolled his eyes. “I’d be respected. A local legend. Feared. Not …flirted with over korean BBQ!”
“You should be happy for me!” Minho complained, chewing thoughtfully. “Not everyone gets hit on for their metacarpals.”
“It’s not like I’m jealous.” Yoonsung insisted, crossing his arms. “I’m alarmed. There’s a difference.”
“I don’t get why you’re pressed. He said I’d be a good ‘meat flipper.’ That’s just… efficiency.”
Yoonsung blushed. “Your hands are mine to protect, okay?!”
Confused, the others turned to look at him. Minho, completely oblivious, happily kept munching on his kimchi.
“I mean. Not mine. Not... like that. Just. Communal hands. For the group. For flipping... choreo.”
“It’s just hands, man.” Minho said with a smile. “You’re being dramatic.”
***
After dinner Yoonsung flopped down onto the large couch next to Minho, who was lazily flipping through TV channels. Jaeyun, who had somehow migrated down to the floor, was leaning against the couch with a bowl full of grapes. In the other corner of the living room, Haemin and Seungheon had taken it upon themselves to badly braid Myungho’s hair, pretending to listen to whatever he was quietly ranting about. Kyungmin was draped over the armchair, a book in hand, blissfully ignoring everything going on around him.
Head still spinning from what had happened at the dinner table, Yoonsung couldn’t help but glance over at Minho, specifically, his hands. Minho did have nice hands. How could he only have noticed this now? Did other people know of this? Now that he thought of it, he vaguely remembered seeing specific comments from scrolling certain subreddits. Not that Yoonsung found hands attractive in particular. But now that he thought of it…
Nope, still weird. Though there must definitely be people with a hand fetish. But not Yoonsung. Definitely not. He sighed. This was all the BBQ joint owner’s fault. He was the one who caused this. Shamelessly ogling his friend’s hands. What was he, a pervert?
Minho, of course, was lounging with all the grace of someone whose hands had been compared to kitchen utensils.
“Meat Tamer.” He mumbled, as if testing the sound of it as he tossed a grape in the air and caught it in his mouth.
“You're not naming them!” Yoonsung snapped before he could stop himself.
Minho looked at him, feigning innocent surprise. “Who’s gonna stop me? You? Mr. 'These Hands Belong To The Group'?”
Defeated, Yoonsung only grumbled something inaudible in response and tried to focus on the TV. Yet his thoughts kept drifting off. How come none of the others seemed to care? He looked around the room. Haemin had somehow managed to braid Seungheon’s left hand into Myungho’s hair and now the three of them were frantically trying to free him from his predicament. Annoyed, Kyungmin loudly clapped his book shut and threatened to get scissors. Eyes wandering towards Minho again, Yoonsung watched as the other pulled his hair back, fingers flexing as he tied the scrunchie and he could practically hear the BBQ man whispering: “Such dexterity…”
He choked on his own spit, just as Minho stood up, stretching. “I’m gonna shower.”
Right. Take a shower. With his hands. Those shameless, slutty, exposed hands. Just bare skin on bare skin. Lathering too much of that expensive shower gel on his muscles, gently massaging the soreness of the day away and scrubbing along his body with those long fingers, sliding over the curve of his back-
For the first time in his life, Yoonsung felt like he needed a cigarette.
The moment the other left, he pulled out his phone and opened Google.
When Minho came out of the shower roughly twenty minutes later, hair damp and body securely wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, Yoonsung was already buried in the depths of the internet.
“Did you know that in some cultures the hands are considered the most sensual part of the body?” He said without looking up. “They are also part of the so-called erogenous zone.”
Minho blinked. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Yoonsung said, his voice definitely not cracking at all. “Totally fine. Just curious.”
He didn’t sleep much that night.
***
They were mid-practice the next morning, bodies already aching, and the events of the past night were almost forgotten. Almost.
Then it happened again.
“Again from the chorus!” The choreographer barked. "Five, six, seven…"
The beat dropped, and they moved in sync. Mostly. …not really. Kyungmin missed the first beat. Haemin slightly tripped over his own feet. Jaeyun nearly collided with Seungheon.
The choreographer clapped his hands, cutting the music.
“Okay…” He said, pointing toward the middle of the room. “Minho, you’re taking the center here.”
Minho positioned himself between Yoonsung and Yungyu.
“It’s all in the wrist, yeah?” The choreographer continued, stepping forward and physically guiding Minho’s arm up. “Very fluid. You’re the visual hook here, so give me elegance. I want seduction. Think hand confidence.”
Immediately, Yoonsung dropped to his knees, clutching at his chest. “NO.”
Haemin didn’t even look up. “He’s having another episode.”
Minho grinned, ignoring the mayhem, and raised his hand. “Like this?”
The choreographer nodded. “Exactly. That’s a hand that knows what it’s doing.”
Yoonsung pointed dramatically. “SEE?! IT’S SPREADING!”
“I think you’re going insane.” Seungheon muttered while making his way to his water bottle. “Like clinically.”
Yungyu, who had returned that morning, pouted. “Can’t believe I missed this. I leave for a few days and come back to a full-blown hand-based love triangle?”
Still frozen in the middle of the room with only one hand raised, Minho rolled his eyes. “It’s not a love triangle. It’s literally just a compliment.”
Yoonsung, who was now kneeling in the corner, hissed like a cat. “IT’S A METAPHOR, MINHO!”
“This is such a non-issue.” Kyungmin protested, carefully stepping over Yoonsung’s legs. “How is this even a real conversation?!”
“Alright, alright,” Jaeyun cut in, pinching his forehead. “Chit-chat’s over. Water break, then we start again from the top.” He paused, giving each of them a pointed glare.
“And I swear to god, if I hear one more sentence about hands I’m feeding you all to the BBQ man.”
***
After practice, the members returned to the dorm. Yoonsung had insisted on taking the backdoor entrance to avoid any more “sinful hand comments regarding Minho” and for the sake of keeping the peace Jaeyun, being the group's unofficial crisis handler, had reluctantly agreed, ushering him out of sight just before Yoonsung could spot the BBQ owner stepping out onto the street.
But when Jaeyun had come back downstairs after his shower, he realised that peace would not last long. He could already hear Yoonsung's frantic movements from the hallway and cautiously poked his head into the kitchen
“...what are you doing, buddy?” He asked carefully, almost if Yoonsung was a skittish fawn he didn’t want to startle.
Yoonsung halted, slowly turning around. While his comparison to a deer was pretty far-fetched, Jaeyun would still describe the look in Yoonsung’s eyes as something along the lines of ‘feral animal’. Behind him pots and pans piled up on the kitchen counter and Jaeyun suddenly catched a whiff of something burning. Obvious signs of stress-cooking.
“Is this still about the hand thing?” Jaeyun sighed. “You’re taking this way too seriously. It was probably just a joke anyway.”
“It was unholy.” Yoonsung growled, turning back to the stove. “And now I’m making dinner to remind everyone that I, too, have hands.”
A sudden spark of realization hit Jaeyun. “Are you… dare I say… jealous?”
Jealous? Yoonsung gasped by simply the audacity of that question. What would he even be jealous of? The attention? The compliment? The way Minho seemed to love a literal stranger making slightly suggestive comments towards his phalanges?
“WHAT? I mean… what? Me? Jealous?!” Yoonsung laughed, maybe a bit too loud and hysterical.
Somberly he added: “It’s just… weird, isn’t it? Minho-”
He quickly interrupted himself. “Minho’s hands are…not to be appreciated by some old-aged meat-man. That’s all.”
Jaeyun smirked, scratching his head. “I know, I know. You just want to keep him, uh, his hands all to yourself. I mean-...the group. Obviously, the group.” He added quickly.
Yoonsung snapped. “No. I’m concerned about the handling of the situation.”
“Ah, the hand-ling.” Jaeyun deadpanned.
“Just- get out of my kitchen!"
***
The situation was officially out of control. It was 8:29 am on Thursday and Seungheon had already counted the word ‘hand’ being said approximately 44 times, which included the following phrases: fingers, grabbers, pinchers, digits, claws and ‘those things at the end of your arms’. Not to mention the puns. Minho was dubbed ‘handyman’. Yoonsung was not to be approached under any circumstances. Haemin was having a field day.
By 9 am someone had taped a paper sign to the fridge that said ‘NO MORE HAND COMMENTS’ in bold letters in what looked suspiciously close to Kyungmin’s handwriting.
From then on it was utter chaos.
“I need all hands on deck.” Jaeyun had declared at lunch and immediately slapped himself.
“Need a hand?” Yungyu had offered, grinning mischievously, while Seungheon was cleaning the kitchen table.
“That was a very casual wrist graze, Jaeyun. Should I leave the room?” Haemin winked while passing by Myungho and Jaeyun, as they reviewed the choreo again.
Kyungmin just tapped the sign.
Almost 24 hours after Kyungmin had declared the word ‘hand’ banned at the 8TURN dorm, Minho’s voice rang through the hallway as he pushed the front door open. He held some suspiciously familiar paper bags in his hands. “I brought food!”
“You went back there? Again?” Yoonsung shrieked, fully alarmed.
Minho shrugged. “I like it there.”
“I can cook!” Yoonsung immediately protested.
“No offense, but I’d really like to have something edible today.” Yungyu mentioned dryly.
Scrunching his nose, Kyungmin pulled out a takeout box out of the bag. “For breakfast? Seriously?”
“You know what they say.” chirped Minho. “A hearty meal at the start of the day keeps hunger and sadness away.”
“I don’t think anyone says that.”
***
By Friday evening, tensions were high. Yoonsung had called an emergency meeting in the kitchen, which caused Jaeyun and Myungho to promptly flee the building and Kyungmin to groan “absolutely not” before disappearing into his room. The rest of them, either too slow or too curious to escape, were already gathered… or trapped, depending on perspective.
“Thank you all for coming,” Yoonsung declared, arms spread as he addressed the room from atop the kitchen table, as if leading a revolution. “We will be discussing a serious matter and I’m counting on your assistance.”
“I’m just here for the snacks.” Haemin mumbled through a mouthful of chips.
“And I was just getting water.” Deadpanned Yungyu. “But this seems insane enough to be interesting.”
“Minho isn’t here.” Seungheon pointed out. “Which… honestly makes all this even more pointless.”
“He’s probably on a date with his secret admirer.” Grumbled Yoonsung, while distributing home-printed flyers to the attending members. “The enemy is moving fast.”
“This just says ‘beware of the hand-man’.” Yungyu chuckled. “And did you draw that guy from memory?”
“We have a duty to warn the public, for the greater good. Who knows whose hands this lunatic is preying on.”
“I think the only lunatic here is you.” Seungheon mumbled.
Haemin looked at him funny, which he did a lot these days. “Yoonsung, I love you, but I don’t think Minho’s hands are in danger. Worst case, they get moisturized aggressively.”
Yoonsung dramatically leapt off the table and slumped against the counters like a distressed Victorian lady. “Do you know how many things moisturized hands can do?”
Kyungmin appeared, strolling through the group and making a beeline towards the fridge, grabbing a yoghurt. “Please just stop talking.”
“This is important business!” Yoonsung shouted after him, but Kyungmin was already slipping out through the kitchen door.
“No, this is the kind of thing that got people institutionalized in the 1800s.” His muffled voice came from the hallway.
“Perhaps you should consider therapy.” Whispered Seungheon but nobody heard him.
Yungyu was still looking at the flyer. “Maybe you shouldn’t put these outside. I don’t want to get banned from the BBQ place. The food isn’t that great but the vibes are fire.”
“The vibes? You mean the harassment? Hand-rassment?!”
Yungyu shrugged. “I doubt anyone cares.”
“I care!” Yoonsung sniffed defensively. “The world cares! Besides, people have a right to know what they’re getting themselves into!”
Haemin was scrolling through his phone. “We’re probably banned already, honestly. Considering what you posted on their Google reviews.”
Looking over his shoulder, Seungheon’s eyes widened. “Yoonsung, you’ve left like five one-star reviews. One of them said ‘hand worship.’”
Haemin read aloud from his phone. “‘Would not recommend unless you enjoy sensual meat-flipping by a man with lustful eyes.’ Bro.”
Yoonsung lunged forwards to grab the phone from his hand. “THAT ONE WAS ANONYMOUS!”
Yungyu grinned at the scene unfolding in front of him. “Minho does seem to enjoy sensual meat-flipping considering he went back there today.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to him.
“Wait, you guys didn’t know? He said he wanted to learn ‘the magic’ from the grill master.”
“That’s it.” Yoonsung stood up abruptly. “I’m going to confront that guy.”
“Oh my god, please, do not ‘confront him’.”
“We’re gonna have to move.” Seungheon groaned. “I’ll never get to eat cheap pork bulgogi again!”
But just before Yoonsung could set his plan into action, the kitchen door swung open.
Minho walked in, his shirt smeared with grease and other… undefined substances. Probably mayo. Hopefully mayo.
“I’m not saying I’m a meat whisperer, but the grill listens to me.” He flashed them a bright smile.
“It’s not the grill I’m worried about. It’s the guy whispering back.” Yoonsung muttered darkly.
Minho blinked, the smile faltering ever so slightly as he took in the suspiciously quiet room.
“…Did I miss something?”
“Depends.” said Seungheon. “Do you or do you not have a legally binding grill apprenticeship now?”
Minho scratched his head. “Well, he did say I had potential in my fingers…”
Yoonsung made a strangled noise like a wounded animal.
“And today I got a free apron and a nickname.”
Yungyu, more amused than interested, leaned forward. “What nickname?”
Minho held up the apron, which read in cursive red stitching: “Handsome Hands”
Yoonsung collapsed back against the counters like he’d been shot.
“I think it’s cute.” Minho said, casually tossing the apron over a kitchen chair. “Also I got us a coupon for a free appetizer next time we go.”
“We’re never going back!” Yoonsung hissed from where he sat on the floor. “They’ve gotten to you. You’ve been grill-washed.”
Kyungmin poked his head back into the kitchen, half-empty yogurt in hand. “You guys are still at it?”
Minho held up the apron. “Look, I have a nickname now.”
Kyungmin didn’t blink. “Of course you do.” He muttered, and left again without further comment.
Yungyu was taking a photo of the apron. “I'm putting this in the group chat. This is history.”
“This is war.” Yoonsung corrected, but no one seemed to be listening anymore.
Seungheon grabbed a chip from Haemin’s bag. “I’m so serious. We’re going to need to start eating somewhere else.”
“I can cook.” Minho offered. “I’m basically a pro now.”
The door opened again and Jaeyun, who just stumbled in through it, froze, causing Myungho to smack into his back.
“Is that a threat?” He asked quietly. “Didn't you set the bacon on fire last time because you put it in the toaster?
“I’m surprised that guy even lets you handle the meat.” Haemin agreed.
Minho scoffed. “I handle my meat carefully. You should too.”
Yungyu leaned against the wall. “So wait. Is the real problem that the owner is into Minho, or that Minho’s kinda into it?”
Yoonsung turned slowly to face the group, his gaze burning with purpose.
“He’s been compromised. We need to do something before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?” Haemin asked. “You think he’s going to get proposed to with a marinated rib?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a meat ring.” Minho mused.
“Focus!” Yoonsung barked. “We can’t let this continue. For our dignity. For …hand autonomy!”
“I’m begging you to stop saying that.“ Seungheon muttered.
Yoonsung slapped a flyer onto the kitchen table. “This is a mission. We’re going to the BBQ place.”
“You just said we were never going back.” Yungyu pointed out.
“I literally just got home.” Complained Minho.
“That was before I realized the true extent of this. We have to go see it for ourselves. Gather evidence. Observe the suspect in his natural habitat.”
“Like a nature documentary, but with more sexual tension.” Haemin added.
“Exactly.” Yoonsung said, missing the sarcasm entirely.
Minho looked both amused and mildly alarmed. “Wait. You guys want to follow me there? Like, as a group?”
“Like as bodyguards,” Yoonsung corrected. “An intervention. Also, I need to return the cursed appetizer coupon before it infects somebody else.”
“I’m not going if we’re going to make a scene.” Seungheon said, which everyone knew was a lie.
“I’m not going unless we do make a scene!” Yungyu countered, which everyone knew was the truth.
Minho held up the coupon again, wiggling his eyebrows. “It’s for a free order of cheese corn.”
A beat of silence.
“…When do we leave?” Haemin asked.
“I’ll get my shoes.” Said Jaeyun, already walking away.
Yoonsung looked around in horror as they began to mobilize. “You’re all seriously going along with this?”
“We have to see what’s making you act like this.” Seungheon said, grabbing his jacket. “Either it’s real or you’ve finally lost it.”
“And if there’s cheese corn…” Yungyu added. “We win either way.”
Minho slung his arm around Yoonsung’s shoulders. “Aw, come on. We’ll walk in together. Like a family.”
“You’re not my family.” Yoonsung muttered.
“I’m your handsome-handed coworker.”
Yoonsung tried to storm off dramatically, but Minho kept his arm firmly in place and cheerfully steered him towards the door.
Seungheon sighed as the chaos moved out of the kitchen. “I can’t believe this is my life.”
Haemin tossed the bag of chips to Kyungmin, who had just reappeared with a second yogurt. “You coming?”
Kyungmin stared at the group assembling at the door, then at the apron still draped over the chair.
“Fine.” He sighed.
Stopping right before the door, Jaeyun turned to face the others. “Wait, if Minho’s hands really are the problem, couldn’t we just hide them?”
Minho raised his eyebrow. “Should I wear oven mitts to dinner?”
“You should.” Yoonsung muttered, eyes narrowing.
“I can bring a scarf.” Haemin said helpfully.
“I have compression gloves.” Kyungmin offered dryly. “From when I tried to become an artist in middle school and got wrist pain from drawing too many anime boys.”
“That’s…oddly specific.” Said Jaeyun. “Also perfect. Bring those.”
Yungyu looked entirely too delighted. “We’re staging a hand intervention. Incredible. Should we come up with a code phrase in case the grill guy tries anything?”
“How about ‘The meat is overcooked’?” Myungho suggested, already halfway through the door.
“That feels like an insult.” Minho said. “I am trying to keep this job.”
“Oh my god, you actually care!” Seungheon said, pointing at him. “You like it there!”
Minho shrugged. “I mean… I get compliments and cool aprons. What more could a man want?”
“A workplace that doesn’t objectify your phalanges!” Yoonsung shot back, scandalized.
Minho pulled on a clean hoodie and clapped his hands. “Let’s go, troops. Follow my hands. I mean lead. I’ll lead.”
“See that’s what worries me.” Kyungmin grumbled.
“I swear.” Jaeyun said as they piled into the hallway, “If this ends with us getting banned, I’m blaming Minho.”
“No one bans Handsome Hands.” Minho smiled confidently.
“They might ban the rest of us though.” Yungyu replied. “We’re basically accomplices now.”
Yoonsung was the last to leave, shooting a last dramatic glance behind him, as if he was leaving for a deadly mission without a promise to return.
Then the door shut behind them.
They were going to the BBQ place. May God help them all.
***
“Act natural.” Whispered Yoonsung as they shuffled in through the door.
“You’re wearing sunglasses at night.” Kyungmin pointed out.
“I’m in stealth mode.” Yoonsung hissed back.
Haemin nodded solemnly. “Yeah. No one suspects the guy in full black holding a flyer that says ‘beware of the hand-man’.”
Minho, cool and unfazed, was the first to slide into the booth. The others settled in more or less showing various degrees of hunger and/or suspicion. The boys had barely sat down when the owner emerged from the back, sleeves rolled up, his apron already stained.
“Minho-ah, you back already! Good. I want to show you proper grip.” The owner said, gracefully sliding a tray of marinated short ribs and a few sides onto the table.
“Wait, where did all of this suddenly come from?” Yoonsung questioned. “We haven’t even ordered yet.”
The owner, entirely unfazed, turned his attention back to Minho, who had calmly picked up a lettuce wrap from a salad and was chewing like this was the most normal dinner in the world.
“Minho-ah, your touch is gentle. Like someone who is used to delicate handling.”
Minho swallowed and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I fold our laundry.”
Much to Yoonsung’s dismay, the owner took their orders without any more incidents, before disappearing back into the kitchen. Still, his eyes never left the door, as if he anticipated the man to jump out at them at any second.
“The kitchen is probably where he keeps his past victim’s hands.“ Haemin nodded at Yungyu, loud enough to be in Yoonsung‘s earshot.
Yoonsung shot him a pointed glare, immediately turning back to face the kitchen. Minho in the meantime, was halfway through a monologue describing the best grill-tactics to anyone who would listen.
Seungheon leaned over to Jaeyun, eyes never leaving the odd pair at the other end of the table. “Why is this more tense than our last comeback meeting?”
Jaeyun didn’t answer at first, eyes flicking between Minho, the grill, and Yoonsung, who now looked like he was genuinely preparing an attack on Minho’s future BBQ husband. “Because Yoonsung’s out here fighting for Minho’s hand in marriage.”
Minho, without looking up, said calmly. “He can have my left. It’s weaker.”
That caused a loud snort from Myungho, who nearly choked on his soda. “Honestly, at this point I’m actually rooting for the owner. At least he appreciates technique.”
Kyungmin finally broke his silence, stuffing a piece of meat into his mouth with an amused hum. “Can’t wait for Dispatch to catch Minho holding hands with a BBQ dude in Gangnam. That headline’s gonna break Twitter.”
“If Minho marries into the BBQ business, do we get free meat?” Seungheon asked, sounding genuinely hopeful.
“Nobody’s getting married!” Yoonsung groaned. “Not on my watch!”
Yungyu expertly flipped some rips on the grill. “Can we please agree that this place is just your usual BBQ joint and not some secret evil lair?”
Yoonsung scoffed. “Didn’t you see the way that guy looked at him? Just wait until he comes ba-”
Before he could finish, the owner suddenly appeared at their table. Startled, Yoonsung dropped his piece of uncooked pork on the floor.
Unimpressed, the owner tilted his head, voice flat. “You want hand job?”
Yoonsung made a noise that wasn’t entirely human. “WHAT-”
The owner didn’t react. “Flipping your meat. I help. Hands are important. Yours? Nervous.” He offered in very broken korean.
“That’s… exactly the problem.” Yoonsung muttered, sinking back down.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.” Minho beamed from the other side of the table, winking at Yoonsung.
***
In the end, they didn’t get banned from the BBQ place. Yoonsung was offered a few lessons on ‘handling meat the right way’, which he gracefully declined. Minho was promised a full-time job, should the idol-thing not work out as expected. Full and mostly happy, the group made their way back to the dorm.
“So just to recap: I went through literal hell for the last few days because of a misunderstanding? A language barrier? That’s it?” Asked Kyungmin as they stepped out into the empty street.
“I know right? That’s sooo anticlimatic.” Yungyu pouted. “I was totally prepared for a surprise proposal.”
“I think this provides a valuable lesson.” Jaeyun said, immediately sensing the chance for a learning opportunity.
“We live in a house with a lunatic?” Questioned Seungheon.
“I can hear you, you know.” Yoonsung responded weakly.
“What I was trying to say.” Jaeyun continued. “Is that language barriers are still day-to-day business in our career and should not be taken lightly. I’ll ask our manager to schedule a class. This would make a great PR-Training!”
Everyone groaned.
Finally stepping back through the front door, Haemin grinned. “I wanna see the fans suffer too. Next comeback: all hand choreography for Minho.“
Seungheon smiled back. “Or we lean in. Start selling photo cards of his hands.”
“I bet there are some really sick people who would love that.” Kyungmin mused. With a side glance towards Yoonsung he added: “One of them might even be among us…”
Yoonsung let his head hang low, sniffing dramatically. “At least I was attempting to help. Don’t expect me to plan a rescue mission for you when your toes mysteriously show up on wiki feet!”
Kyungmin’s face fell. “Wiki…what?!”
Ignoring the chaos, Minho smirked at Yoonsung, acting as innocent as ever.
“So… you wanna help me exfoliate?”
“I- YOU- THAT’S NOT WHAT THIS WAS ABOUT.”
(It’s entirely what this was about.)