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The studio lights beamed hot overhead, white and unforgiving, the kind that made your sweat feel like spotlight glitter.
Mingi leaned back in the chair, one ankle casually draped over his knee, arms folded like he wasn’t pressed. Like he wasn’t watching with too much attention. Like he wasn’t trying to count the inches between Yunho’s lips and Wooyoung’s as if his sanity depended on it.
1,5 cm.
“Okay, okay, again. We’re really gonna try to break the record this time!” Wooyoung shouted excitedly, slapping the table. Thr other members were laughing and joking around.
Wooyoung was already giggling, bouncing on the balls of his feet, the corners of his eyes crinkled with that wild thrill he got when he was about to do something chaotic on camera. And Yunho? Yunho just stood there smiling, cool and confident as always, holding another Pepero stick like he wasn’t about to do something absolutely reckless with one of his best friends on national television.
Mingi swallowed hard.
San elbowed him from the side. “You’re gripping your knee like you’re about to break it” he whispered.
“I’m not” Mingi muttered, flexing his fingers out of the tense grip.
“Uh-huh” San smirked, then leaned forward, eyes fixed like the rest of the staff and crew. “They’re gonna kiss, you know.”
“It’s just a game” Mingi replied, too fast, too defensive.
San tilted his head, then smiled in that vague, unreadable way of his. “Mm. Sure.”
The countdown started. 3...2...1...
Wooyoung stepped forward. Yunho matched him. The Pepero, long, chocolate-dipped, innocent in any other setting, was caught between their mouths, and then gone. In precise, quick bites. Neither of them looked away. Yunho’s eyes crinkled, but never left Wooyoung’s, and Wooyoung, that little showman, kept inching forward with mischief dancing behind his lashes. The whole room was holding its breath, like they were all complicit in something they weren’t supposed to be witnessing.
Mingi’s smile didn’t falter, not once. He even laughed, loud enough to be caught by the mics, when someone behind the camera gasped. He leaned back further, as if he was relaxed. As if he didn’t feel like the floor under him was slowly tilting.
They were so close now. The stick was barely a crumb. Mingi saw Yunho’s lips twitch, just a tiny, involuntary curve. Wooyoung’s mouth parted slightly-
The studio erupted.
“1cm!!”
“THAT COUNTS!” someone shouted.
“I swear their lips touched” someone cried out.
Mingi wasn’t sure who said it, but it might as well have been him. Because they had. He saw it.
Yunho’s lips had brushed Wooyoung’s. Just the edge, just for a second, but it was there. Not a mistake. Not just proximity. It was contact.
“Again!” with the a Almond one.
On the screen, it played in glorious slow motion. The two of them frozen in time, Wooyoung’s lips glossy, Yunho leaning just a millimeter too close. The Pepero vanishing. The angle where it was impossible to say they didn’t kiss.
Mingi bit the inside of his cheek.
Beside him, San was clapping. “Legendary” he said under his breath.
Mingi looked sideways at him. “You’re not bothered?”
San raised a brow. “By what? They’re just playing.”
Mingi looked back toward the pair still standing at the center of the chaos, Wooyoung looking smug and breathless, Yunho rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. There was something about the flush on Wooyoung’s cheeks that didn’t feel like acting. Something about the way Yunho kept looking over at him, off-camera, subtle, that wasn’t part of the bit.
Just a game... Then why did Mingi feel like someone had reached into his chest and pulled the thread that held everything in place?
When Wooyoung came back to the group, San gave him a high-five. “You looked like you enjoyed that a little too much.”
Wooyoung laughed, tossing his hair back with faux innocence. “What can I say? I commit to the moment.”
Mingi smiled up at him. “New record?”
“Shortest Pepero stick ever left” Wooyoung grinned proudly.
San muttered, “Shortest distance from lips to scandal” and Wooyoung cracked up again.
Yunho was still over by the cameras, but his eyes flicked toward them now and then. When he caught Mingi watching, he smiled.
Mingi smiled back, wide and lazy, like he didn’t feel anything at all.
But later, when the lights were down, and they were in the van headed back to the dorms, Mingi sat in the back corner, headphones on but no music playing. Yunho and Wooyoung sat in front of him, close, sharing a phone screen and laughing softly under their breath.
Their shoulders touched. Wooyoung nudged Yunho with a grin. Yunho leaned in to whisper something. They laughed together with Hongjoong.
Mingi stared out the window, his reflection barely visible in the dark glass.
Just a game. He repeated it like a mantra, like if he said it enough times, it would rewrite what he saw.
But Mingi wasn’t stupid. He saw the way Yunho looked at Wooyoung today, like his whole world lived inside that smile..And worse, he saw the way Wooyoung looked back.
For Wooyoung, it really was just a game. Everyone was used to him being flirty with everyone. And maybe for Yunho too..
That’s what Mingi kept telling himself as he watched Wooyoung now, back to his usual self, draped over San like he belonged there, laughing too loudly, teasing like nothing had happened in that studio half an hour ago. Like he hadn’t practically kissed Yunho. Like their lips hadn’t brushed, even for a second. Like that moment hadn’t sat like a stone in Mingi’s stomach ever since.
They broke the Pepero record and his heart.
San on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind. If anything, San looked like he was encouraging him again, just like he always did. Cheering Wooyoung on, like Wooyoung’s wild energy was something he was proud of, even when it hurt him. Mingi could see it, clearer now, the faint pull around San’s mouth when Wooyoung leaned into him too easily, the way San’s hand hesitated before it ruffled Wooyoung’s hair, playful but lingering just a second too long.
San was jealous too. But not as much. San always knew when to let go. Mingi didn’t.
The van jolted as it pulled up outside the dorms. Without a word, Mingi slid his headphones back over his ears, music already playing - something heavy, loud, meaningless. He pushed the door open before the van had even fully stopped, ignoring group-mom Seonghwa’s half-scolding voice telling him to wait.
He didn’t.
The night air hit him like a wave, cool and thick, swallowing the leftover adrenaline thrumming in his veins. He didn’t pause. He didn’t look back. His steps were fast, automatic, up the stairs to the dorm entrance. He could feel his heart pounding against the bass in his ears, his own personal soundtrack to a jealousy he didn’t want to name.
In the rearview mirror, Yunho saw him go. His brows furrowed. “Mingi?” he called after him, too late.
The door closed behind him.
Wooyoung laughed at something San said, his head thrown back, full of life. Yunho’s attention drifted from the conversation like he wasn’t hearing it anymore. His smile faded, just slightly.
“Did he say anything?” Yunho asked quietly.
“Hm?”
“Mingi. Did he say anything?”
San glanced sideways at him. His voice was calm, unreadable. “Nothing.”
“Is he…okay?” he pressed.
San shrugged. “You know Mingi. He’s probably just tired.”
But San’s gaze lingered on Yunho a moment too long, and Yunho felt it.
“Yeah…” Yunho said softly, unconvinced.
The others piled out of the van, Wooyoung still laughing, trailing after San like he always did. But Yunho stood frozen for a second longer, eyes still on the door where Mingi had disappeared.
Something was wrong.
Mingi stood alone in the bathroom, headphones still blasting, staring at himself in the mirror. He yanked the headphones off suddenly, the music cutting off mid-verse, leaving the heavy silence behind. His reflection looked tired. His eyes were rimmed red.
What the hell was he doing? Why did he care? Because it wasn’t just a game. At least not for him.
He’d laughed when Wooyoung and Yunho nearly kissed, like everyone else. He’d smiled, he’d clapped, he’d even shouted "MORE MORE MORE" like some kind of masochist. But that moment, the brief brush of lips, Yunho’s hesitant smile, Wooyoung’s flushed cheeks, that moment had burned itself into Mingi’s mind and it wouldn’t fade.
They didn’t even notice.
Wooyoung had already bounced to someone else’s side. And Yunho...did he even think about it? Or was it just another stage moment to him? Another thing to laugh about later?
Mingi splashed cold water on his face.
Behind the bathroom door, he could hear footsteps and voices. Wooyoung’s voice, higher than usual, teasing San about something. Mingi knew that tone, he always used it when he wanted attention. When he wanted to be chased. Maybe that’s all he wanted. Maybe that’s all Mingi was to him too. Someone to tease. Someone to leave behind.
The knock on the door startled him.
“Mingi?”
Yunho.
His heart stuttered and he swallowed hard. “What?”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
There was a pause.
“You sure?”
“Yeah” He hated how hoarse his voice sounded. He cleared his throat, forcing it stronger. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Another pause. Longer. Mingi could practically feel Yunho hesitating behind the door.
“I don’t know” Yunho finally said, soft. “Just… seemed like something was off.”
Mingi gripped the sink until his knuckles went white. “I said I’m fine.”
“…Okay.”
Yunho’s voice was quiet now. Almost hurt. Mingi squeezed his eyes shut.
The footsteps retreated...and Mingi let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
In the hallway, Yunho stood still, staring at the floor like it could give him answers. His chest felt tight and he didn’t know why. San walked past him, expression unreadable.
But just before he rounded the corner, San glanced back, his voice low. “You’re not as blind as you pretend to be, are you?”
Yunho blinked. “What?”
San didn’t explain. He just kept walking toward his room. And Yunho stood alone in the hallway, confused, the sound of Mingi’s voice, flat and cold and distant, echoing louder in his head than any music.
Yunho wasn’t good at overthinking. He left that to Seonghwa or maybe Jongho. He liked things simple and clear. Laughing made things better and joking fixed most problems. But not this time. Not with Mingi.
It started after San’s words. Just a throwaway comment, or that’s what Yunho wanted to believe. 'You’re not as blind as you pretend to be, are you?' It circled his head like a song stuck on repeat.
Now, days later, Mingi was still avoiding him. And Yunho couldn’t ignore it anymore.
He noticed the way Mingi’s smile never reached his eyes around him now. How Mingi sat beside San and Yeosang at dinner instead of him. How he chose the other van when he could. How he laughed too loudly when Yunho spoke, but never looked at him when he did.
Yunho wasn’t as blind as everyone assumed.
Tonight was the last straw.
Practice was over. The others filtered out of the room. Yunho had been waiting. For what, he didn’t know. Maybe for courage.
Mingi wiped sweat off his forehead and turned toward the door, earbuds in, eyes distant.
Yunho blocked his way.
Mingi blinked. Paused. Then moved to sidestep him.
Yunho shifted too. "We need to talk."
"About what?" Mingi didn’t even pull his earbuds out. The music leaked out faintly - some rap with a heavy beat, just like always.
Yunho hesitated. "About why you’re avoiding me."
"I’m not."
"Mingi."
Slowly with a sigh, Mingi tugged one earbud free. His expression was blank, but Yunho could read him better than most. Mingi looked tired. And hurt.
"I’m not avoiding you" Mingi said, quieter this time. "I just…had fun hanging with San and Yeosang or Hongjoong more lately. That’s not a crime, is it?"
Yunho’s throat tightened. He shook his head, almost helpless. "No. Of course not."
Mingi let out a short laugh. Humorless. "You seemed like you had fun with Wooyoung too."
Yunho froze.
Mingi’s jaw worked like he was chewing the next words before spitting them. "Seems like you had fun. With him."
"You mean the Pepero game?"
Mingi’s gaze flicked to him sharply. "What else would I mean?"
"It was just a game."
"Right" Mingi looked away, stuffing the other earbud into his pocket. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
Yunho felt something crack inside him. Something he didn’t have a name for. "I didn’t even think about it" he said, desperate now to explain something he didn’t even fully understand. "It wasn’t a big deal—"
"You never did it with me."
Yunho’s mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Mingi’s voice wasn’t angry. It was quiet and honest. "All those variety shows. All those times the fans asked. You always laughed it off. Always said no. Or made a joke."
Yunho remembered. He remembered every time he’d waved off the idea of doing skinship games with Mingi. Laughed when the others teased him. Said 'Mingi would eat the whole Pepero before I even took a bite' or 'we’d just end up wrestling instead'. He remembered Mingi smiling with him. Laughing too. But not once did Mingi ask again.
"I thought you didn’t care" Yunho said softly.
Mingi looked down. "Yeah. I know."
"Why didn’t you say anything?"
Mingi shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Why would I? It’s stupid, Yunho. It’s a dumb game, right? I shouldn’t care."
"But you do."
"Forget it."
"Mingi, look at me."
He didn’t.
Yunho’s hand reached out before he even thought about it, grabbing Mingi’s wrist, not tight, just enough to stop him. Enough to make him stay.
Mingi’s shoulders tensed.
"I’m sorry" Yunho said.
Mingi’s voice cracked. "For what?"
"For not noticing."
Now Mingi finally looked at him. And Yunho hated what he saw in those eyes. Hurt. And something else. Something too heavy to be jealousy alone.
Yunho swallowed hard. "It didn’t mean anything. With Wooyoung."
"Maybe that’s the problem" Mingi whispered.
Yunho’s breath caught.
They stood there like that, frozen, for too long. Yunho didn’t know what to say next. Everything felt too big suddenly. Too real.
Mingi pulled his wrist free gently. "Forget it, Yunho." And then he walked past him. No more words. No anger. Just silence.
Yunho let him go this time. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t know how to stop him.
Yunho sat alone in the practice room long after Mingi left, staring at the empty doorway. San’s words echoed in his head again. 'You’re not as blind as you pretend to be, are you?'
Maybe he was. Until now.
The dorm was unusually quiet for early evening. No schedules. No rehearsals. No interviews. Just stillness, broken only by faint sounds coming from Mingi’s room.
Yunho knew it was Mingi.
That familiar rhythm, the low thrum of bass-heavy beats looping, Mingi’s voice rapping steadily over them. Not loud enough to disturb the others. Just enough to block out the world.
Yunho hesitated outside his door. He’d been standing there for five minutes. Listening.
Snacks in hand - a peace offering. He wasn’t even sure why he’d gone to the convenience store. Muscle memory maybe. Or maybe guilt. Or maybe...something heavier. Because now, with San’s words and Mingi’s expression carved deep into his mind, Yunho was starting to see the last few years differently. He’d been replaying it all since the conversation yesterday.
- The way Mingi always sought him first in crowded rooms.
- The times their arms lingered pressed together after fanservice moments, not pulling away right away like the others did.
- The glances. The shy laughs.
-The times Yunho had to break eye contact because it felt too warm. Too much.
And all those touches…
Fans called them Yungi. Best friends. Brothers. The playful pair. A bit of teasing, a bit of skinship, harmless jokes.
Except...maybe it had never been harmless.
Not for Mingi.
And if Yunho was honest with himself...not for him either. He let the realization sit there like a weight in his chest.
This wasn’t just jealousy. This wasn’t just friendship. Mingi cared...and Yunho had laughed it away. He knocked, finally.
No answer.
“Mingi...it’s me.”
He waited. There was a long pause. Then, slowly, the music stopped. A shuffling sound. Then silence.
Yunho sighed softly. “I got snacks.”
Still silence.
Then, at last. “…Door’s open.”
Yunho pushed it open gently.
Mingi sat at his desk, back half-turned, headphones resting around his neck. His screen displayed an open audio file. Scribbled lyrics on scattered papers. His knuckles were tapping lightly against the desk, a nervous habit.
Yunho stepped in, hesitated near the doorway. “I didn’t come to bother you,” he said quietly. “I…just wanted to talk.”
Mingi didn’t look up. “You said what you needed to already.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Mingi’s knuckles stilled.
Yunho crossed the room slowly, heart hammering. He set the convenience store bag down beside Mingi’s lyric notebook, nudging it gently forward. …“Your favorite.”
Mingi glanced at the bag. Chips. Those weird yogurt drinks. The melon bread he always picked without thinking.
Yunho watched him silently. “I didn’t know what else to bring.”
For a long moment, Mingi didn’t say anything. Then his voice came, flat. “You think snacks fix this?”
Yunho flinched. “No. But I didn’t know how to start.”
Mingi finally looked at him then. His eyes weren’t angry. Just tired. “Then say what you actually came here for.”
Yunho hesitated, then “I know.”
Mingi frowned, confused. “…Know what?”
“That you’re jealous.”
Mingi froze.
Yunho swallowed hard. “I didn’t understand before. I kept thinking...it was just a game. With Woo. But you weren’t angry about the game. You’re hurt. And you’re jealous. And now I get why.”
Mingi’s voice cracked: “Don’t.”
Yunho’s chest ached. “I have to. You’re my best friend, Mingi. But that’s not all you’ve been.”
Mingi looked away.
Yunho stepped closer. “I thought all those times we touched, laughed, messed around… I thought it was fanservice. I told myself that. But I know I’m lying.”
Mingi’s breath caught in his throat.
Yunho kept going. “When you look at me, it’s never been just joking, has it?”
Mingi’s voice was barely a whisper. “Not for a long time.”
Yunho’s heart stuttered. He already knew, but hearing it crushed something inside him. His voice dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mingi laughed softly, bitter, cheeks now a little red. “Because you always laughed first. You kept it light. Safe. You were never ready to see it.”
“I was scared to.”
“Of what?”
Yunho’s voice shook now. “Of ruining everything.”
Finally, Mingi met his gaze again. Raw and vulnerable. “You already did.”
That broke Yunho. Without thinking, he sat down beside him, their knees touching. Mingi didn’t pull away. Not this time.
“I don’t want to lose you” Yunho whispered.
“You already did.”
“No.” Yunho’s voice cracked. “Not yet. Not if you’ll let me fix it.”
Silence. Mingi’s hands trembled slightly in his lap. Yunho could feel it. Mingi didn’t really mean what he said. He was just hurt.
Yunho forced himself to speak honestly, every word terrifying. “I always looked for you first too. You were never just my best friend, Mingi. I was just too much of a coward to admit it.”
Mingi blinked, stunned.
Yunho’s throat closed up. “When I almost kissed Woo…I didn’t think about you. And that’s what hurt you most.”
Mingi nodded faintly.
Yunho whispered: “I’m sorry.”
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Then Mingi’s voice, hoarse. “…You owe me a Pepero game.”
Yunho startled. Looked at him.
Mingi gave a broken, small smile. “Not on a show. Not for fans. Just us.”
Yunho stared at him, heartbeat ringing in his ears. Then he said softly. “Okay.”
Mingi looked down. “You’ll probably just laugh it off again.”
Yunho reached out cautiously and took Mingi’s hand. “No. I won’t.”
Mingi squeezed back, just slightly.
Yunho wasn’t sure how long they sat like that. Both too scared to move. Both too scared to speak. But for the first time in days…Mingi didn’t pull away. And Yunho didn’t let go.
Mingi felt Yunho’s hand in his. Neither of them had said anything for a while. The music from his computer screen had long gone silent, the usual hum of their friendship replaced by a tension that wasn’t uncomfortable, but unfamiliar..kind of. There had always been a spark, but different.
Yunho shifted slightly beside him.
Mingi didn’t let go.
And then Yunho reached down into the plastic bag with his free hand. Sowly, like he wasn’t sure if he should. Then he pulled something out.
A box of Pepero.
Mingi stared at it, breath stuck in his throat.
Yunho gave a small, nervous laugh, his eyes not meeting Mingi’s. He smiled softly down at his lap. “I thought...maybe.”
Mingi’s chest tightened. His cheeks burned. He looked down, couldn’t meet Yunho’s eyes either. “…You’re late.”
“I know.”
Then there was a silence. Mingi’s heart pounded painfully against his ribs. “Is this a joke?”
Yunho shook his head, voice quiet but steady. “No.”
Mingi hesitated. His mouth was dry. “You’re serious.”
Yunho finally looked at him. His eyes weren’t teasing. Not this time.
“I’m serious.”
Mingi felt like the air in the room shifted.
The kind of shift that didn’t come from just close friendship. The kind of shift that had been lingering for too long. Unspoken.
Yunho held the Pepero box between them, waiting. It felt like a question, a challenge and a promise.
Mingi’s voice cracked when he whispered, “Okay.”
Yunho didn’t grin. He didn’t make it funny. He just opened the box with careful, almost trembling fingers. Pulled out a single Pepero stick. His hand brushed Mingi’s as he passed it to him, unspoken understanding between them. “Do you…want the chocolate side?” he asked softly, suddenly unsure.
Mingi shook his head, throat tight. “Doesn’t matter.”
Yunho nodded.
They both held either end of the stick.
Mingi swallowed hard. He could feel the stick trembling slightly between them, not from his hands, but Yunho’s.This wasn’t a game.
“Ready?” Yunho asked, but his voice was strained and uncertain.
Mingi couldn’t speak. He just nodded.
And then they started.
Slowly. Too slowly.
Mingi could hear their breathing. Could feel Yunho’s exhale hit his skin as they both leaned in at the same time, each bite shortening the distance between them. They could barely keep eye contact. It was intense. Each crack of the stick felt deafening in the quiet room. His heart was racing so hard, he was sure Yunho could hear it.
They kept going. Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Yunho’s lips trembled just slightly as they met the last inch.
And then - a pause.
Mingi froze, so close he could feel Yunho’s breath brushing his lips, warmth ghosting over his skin. He didn’t move.
Yunho didn’t either.
Neither of them bit the last piece.
Mingi’s eyes flicked up instinctively, meeting Yunho’s.
And there it was. The look. Not friendship. Not playfulness. Not fanservice. Something raw and real.
Mingi felt his whole body tremble, but neither of them pulled back and then...Yunho closed the last breath of space between them. The Pepero piece fell away, forgotten, as his lips pressed softly, carefully, against Mingi’s.
No audience. No cameras. No fans. Just them.
Mingi felt himself break. His hands moved before he could think, dropping the stick and gripping Yunho’s shirt tight, pulling him closer like he’d been aching to for years.
Yunho responded, gentle but desperate. His lips soft, but hungry.
This wasn’t a show or pretend.
Mingi kissed him back.
Finally.
When they broke apart, both gasping quietly, Yunho pressed their foreheads together, his hands gripping Mingi’s arms like he needed to anchor himself.
Mingi’s voice cracked. “What does this mean?”
Yunho didn’t hesitate. “Whatever you want it to.”
Mingi laughed, a shaky, disbelieving sound, his eyes burning. “I..I want you.”
Yunho smiled softly against his skin, his own breath shaking. “Then you have me.”
They stayed there, wrapped in silence, the forgotten Pepero piece between them on the floor. Neither of them moved away.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It felt heavy, sure, but soft and comfortable. Like something fragile they were both too afraid to break.
Yunho sat cross-legged on Mingi’s bed, watching him.
Mingi, who rarely blushed, was visibly red. His skin flushed all the way up his neck, ears burning. He kept looking down, pulling at the sleeves of his hoodie like he wanted to hide inside them.
Yunho smiled softly. His own heart was a mess too, but Mingi’s shyness…it made him braver. “You’re really bad at this” he said gently.
Mingi peeked up, eyes wide. “At what?”
Yunho tilted his head. “At hiding.”
Mingi groaned, burying his face in his hoodie. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not.” Yunho leaned forward, voice low but warm. “I like seeing you like this.”
Mingi made a small, embarrassed noise.
Yunho couldn’t help it. He laughed. Before Mingi could complain, he reached out and tugged him forward, catching him in a loose hug. Mingi stiffened for just a second, then melted. He always did. He then pulled him in tighter, resting his chin on Mingi’s shoulder. He felt the way Mingi’s pulse hammered under his skin. Not from nerves. From something else.
“I’m scared too” Yunho whispered.
Mingi froze.
Yunho pulled back slightly. “I might look calm, but inside? I’m losing it.”
Mingi looked up at him. Really looked. His voice cracked softly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then Yunho smiled. A real one now.
Mingi smiled back, hesitant but genuine.
Yunho shifted to sit back, dragging Mingi down with him without thinking. Mingi yelped, but laughed as he stumbled, falling sideways onto Yunho’s chest.
“Yunho!”
Yunho just laughed quietly, settling back against the pillows, Mingi half on top of him, legs tangled together. The moment felt lazy. Safe. Like breathing after holding back too long.
Mingi wriggled, trying to get comfortable.
That’s when Yunho noticed.
As Mingi shifted, the edge of his oversized hoodie lifted slightly, exposing a thin strip of pale skin. Yunho’s gaze caught on the soft curve of Mingi’s waist, the faint definition of muscle just above the waistband of black Calvin Klein underwear. He swallowed hard. He shouldn’t stare. But he did.
Mingi hadn’t noticed.
Yunho’s fingers moved on their own, brushing lightly over the revealed skin. A soft, absent stroke, as if he was tracing a secret without realizing.
Mingi gasped.
Yunho froze, realizing what he’d done, eyes darting up. Mingi was staring down at him, stunned, lips parted, cheeks fully flushed now.
“Yunho…”
“I - sorry.” Yunho tried to move his hand away.
Mingi caught his wrist, making Yunho blink.
Mingi held his breath, then whispered, “It’s okay.”
Yunho felt like the world slowed.
Neither of them moved for a moment.
Then, quietly, Yunho asked. “Is it really?”
Mingi nodded.
Yunho swallowed hard.
The air between them changed again, softer now, but electric.
“I like this” Mingi whispered shyly.
Yunho smiled at him, voice low. “Me too.”
Mingi let go of his wrist, settling against Yunho’s chest again. His hoodie didn’t fall back down. Yunho’s hand hovered over the warm skin, unsure, until Mingi shifted slightly closer.
It was permission.
Yunho let his fingers rest against Mingi’s waist this time. Light and careful. Not moving. Just…being. And Mingi didn’t pull away.
They stayed like that, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally feeling less heavy. More real. More comfortable.
Mingi mumbled, “So…what happens now?”
Yunho ran his thumb absently over Mingi’s skin, thinking. His heart raced. But his voice was calm. “I don’t know.”
Mingi huffed softly.
Yunho continued. “But…I want to figure it out. With you.”
Mingi’s shoulders relaxed.
Yunho smiled lazily, the earlier tension slipping away. “And I want to do it right. Not just because of tonight.”
Mingi peeked up at him, expression soft, trusting now. “Okay.”
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Yunho broke the quiet, hesitant but sincere. “…Is it okay if I kiss you again?”
Mingi’s pulse jumped against Yunho’s chest. His lips trembled slightly and he whispered. “Please.”
Yunho smiled. He leaned up, slow, careful and kissed Mingi, softly, this time. No rush. No fear.
When they broke apart, Yunho stayed close, whispering. “I’m not going to stop wanting to.”
Mingi whispered back: “Don’t.”
And Yunho didn’t.
Mingi never thought he’d feel nervous around Yunho. Not like this.
Yunho. His best friend since forever. The one person who always made him laugh, who pulled him into stupid dance-offs at midnight, who knew every version of his smile. The one who always caught him when he fell...Now he was the reason Mingi’s heart raced.
Yunho shifted beside him on the bed, but didn’t let go. His hand still rested against Mingi’s waist, fingers light but steady. Mingi could feel every brush of his skin. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.
It felt easy, being close like this. Too easy. Mingi’s nerves faded slowly, leaving behind a quiet warmth in his chest. Yunho made him feel safe.
His hoodie had ridden up again, but Mingi didn’t care anymore. Not when Yunho looked at him like that.
Soft. Like Mingi was something precious.
Mingi buried his face against Yunho’s shoulder without thinking.
Yunho chuckled quietly, hugging him tighter.
“You’re warm” Mingi mumbled.
“You’re heavy.”
Mingi laughed into his hoodie.
But Yunho didn’t ask him to move.
Eventually, Yunho shifted just enough to tilt his head, pressing a soft kiss to Mingi’s temple. A simple thing. But it felt bigger than it should.
“Stop doing that” Mingi whispered, face still hidden.
“Doing what?”
“Making my heart hurt.”
Yunho smiled lazily against his skin. “Sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“I’m really not.”
Mingi laughed again, quiet, tired, but real. And Yunho’s arms stayed around him, steady and calm.
The world outside could wait.
Here, in this small moment, there was just this. Just them.
And for the first time in too long, Mingi felt like he didn’t have to pretend. Not anymore. He could stay like this forever.
“Yunho?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let go.”
“I won’t.”
There was silence and soft breathing.
Then, Yunho said with a grin. “…Unless you get sweatier.”
Mingi shoved him weakly, laughing, cheeks burning. “Yah! You said I’m warm!”
“Yeah, not a heater.”
Their laughter tangled together, quiet and real. Yunho kissed Mingi’s temple again and neither of them moved.
And in the end, Mingi figured maybe falling in love wasn’t that complicated after all. Especially when your best friend had always been holding you.
Even when you were sweaty.
