Archive of Our Own

Mingyu weaves through a narrow aisle, his basket already half-full with a sketchbook, an 18 inch ruler that keeps poking him, and a rogue granola bar. His phone is tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he squints at a row of pens labeled “India Ink Brush Tip – DO NOT TEST.” 

“No, Mom. It’s not a ‘paint class.’ It’s a Fundamentals of Design course. We’re doing, like, ink and line work. It’s real. I promise.”

A pause. Mingyu frowns at the price tag.

“I’m just saying, I thought transferring meant you could… I don’t know, buckle down? Not run around drawing… textures?” 

Mingyu grins. “It’s linework, actually. And typography. And conceptual space. And I like design, Mom. You know art is my thing.”

“Are you eating? You sound skinny. And tired.”

Mingyu laughs, shifting his basket to the other hand. “That’s just my ‘first semester at a new school forcing me to live in a dorm the size of a shower stall with freshmen’ voice.”

“I still think you should’ve waited until fall to transfer.”

“Well, we both know it’s a little late for that. Plus, you heard Seungcheol-hyung at Christmas, the team needed a right fielder. I mean, the design program is really solid, and–” he hesitates for a split second, “–Dad said I could stay with him this summer. So, it’s all working out.”

His mother pauses.

“He… offered that?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says way too casually. “Said it’d be good for us to catch up. Nothin’ big.”

He picks up a pad of textured paper, flips it around like it personally insulted him. “What the hell is a ‘deckled edge’? I have to pay extra because someone ripped it for me? Can I not rip paper for free?”

“Let me get this straight,” his mother ignores the torn-paper talk. “You move into a shoebox, join a baseball team because your hyung asks, change your major, and now you’re spending the summer with a man who once wrapped a birthday gift for you in newspaper.”

“The sports section of the newspaper. It was on theme!”

“Because if your father loves one thing, it’s staying on theme.”

Mingyu laughs. “I know you don’t trust him, Ma. But it’s different now. He’s trying. And I- I want to try, too.” He keeps his tone light, but his face softens. It’s the kind of thing he can’t say out loud too often or it’ll mean too much.

“Just don’t get your hopes up, okay? People like him don’t change overnight.”

“I’m not getting my hopes up.” Mingyu sighs.

“Wait a minute- does this mean I can tell Miss Barbara she can stay in your room through summer?”

Mingyu laughs. 

“Don’t laugh at my most loyal customer, Kim Mingyu. You know how much she loves the natural light in there! My god, she is going to be elated.”

“Yeah, yeah. Very happy for my replacement. Well, I gotta go, okay?”

“Décolletage calls?"  

Mingyu snorts. “Deckled edge. But, yeah. Love you, Ma.”

“Love you, my baby. Go eat something, please.”

He hangs up with an endeared sigh and turns the corner into—

A loud clatter. He watches a brightly dressed boy with bleach blond hair and a frantic aura drop what looks like fifty skeins of embroidery floss onto the laminate floor. Mingyu instinctively crouches down to help.

“Ohmygod, how did that even– everything just crashed down–I-” The flustered stranger is almost out of breath trying to grab everything. 

“No worries,” Mingyu smiles at the stranger. The two take a quiet minute to add hooks back to the wall and hang the packages up again.

The blond exhales deeply and wipes actual sweat off his brow. Hands on his hips, he looks at the collection of string with pride. 

“Big fan of embroidery?” Mingyu asks. The guy gives him a funny vibe – something tells Mingyu not to walk away yet.

“Well,” the stranger ponders, “Fan? Yes. Looks awesome. Very cool. Have I ever done it? Absolutely not and I have no idea what I’m doing.” The last sentence comes out as if it was all one word. 

“Oh! Well, a lot of stitches aren’t too hard – just tedious, that’s all. You’ll get it in no time!”

“You’ve done it?!”

“I love embroidery, yeah! I’m no pro, but…”

“REALLY?! Wait–can you help me?” The blond’s eyes look like they actually sparkle for a moment. Cute.

“For sure,” Mingyu laughs, almost taken aback by the enthusiasm, but more so charmed. “Here, if you’re new to hand embroidery, make sure to use needles like these – they’ll be easier to hold on to. And for the thread,” he pulls a skein of red floss off its hook, “this brand is perfect. It’s durable and it’s not gonna fray on you – arguably the most frustrating part when your thread won’t go in the eye, right?” Mingyu laughs and looks at the stranger. The blond blinks.

“Have you.. threaded a needle before?” 

The stranger’s lips press together as he does a small shake of his head. 

Mingyu sports a goofy grin and grabs a needle threader as well.

“Here you go.” He hands the blond the items. “This’ll get you started. Don’t be afraid to practice and mess up – no one’s ever going to give you permission for the first stitch. You just have to take it.”

The stranger studies the items in his small hands and nods with a dramatized confidence.

“I have to run now. It was nice to meet you,” Mingyu says genuinely. Why do his ears feel warm? This store is cold.

The blond still looks overwhelmed, but gives Mingyu another affirming nod. “Thank you for your services!” 

Mingyu likes how serious the stranger’s tone is. He walks away with a smile. 

The back patio of the Sigma Beta Tau fraternity house is buzzing in the lazy way campus gets before sunset. There’s an unfinished cornhole game in the grass, a Bluetooth speaker playing 2015 pop, and a handful of guys lounging around with iced coffees and soda cans in hand. Mingyu follows Seungcheol around the side of the house like a shadow, cleats slung over his shoulder and baseball duffel banging against his back.

“Let me introduce you to some of my guys real quick before we head out to practice,” Seungcheol says over his shoulder, “Say hi, show your face.”

“Should I bow? Offer a sacrifice?” Mingyu asks, trying to play off his real nerves.

A grin appears on Seungcheol’s face as he says, “Only if you wanna rush next semester.”

Mingyu blinks in surprise, but Seungcheol chooses not to elaborate. Before Mingyu can get more out of him, they’re stepping up to the patio. 

“Boys! Look alive,” Seungcheol calls to the people splayed about.

A round-cheeked boy looks up first, mid-rant about oat milk. He waves with a layer of theatrics. “Oh my god, new blood!” He looks Mingyu up and down. “Wait– you’re tall. Are you tall-tall or just athlete-tall?”

“Uhh… both?” Mingyu answers.

“Hate that. Welcome,” he raises his ice coffee like he’s cheers-ing Mingyu for being here, “I’m Seungkwan.”

“I’m Mingyu, nice to mee-” Mingyu starts to bow before a body launches itself onto Mingyu in a backslapping hug.

“Mingyu-yah! Didn’t think I’d be seeing you off the field!” Despite nearly getting the wind knocked out of him, Mingyu gives his overly friendly peer Dokyeom a pat on the back in return. Personal space has never meant much to his teammate. Dokyeom smiles, but his head turns like a confused puppy’s would as a thought visibly enters his brain, “Wait. Seungcheol-hyung brought you over?” His head whips between Mingyu and Seungcheol as he returns to his seat on a lawn chair. “Are you guys close or something?” 

“If close means he never stops sending me weird Instagram Reels, then hyung and I are two peas in a pod. Hi, DK,” Mingyu grins.

“You know him?” Seungkwan asks Dokyeom. 

“Baseball team. Our new right fielder. Guy runs like a deer,” Dokyeom says matter-of-factly. Seungkwan fans himself like he’s fainting. Mingyu’s laugh comes out a little more awkward than he’d like.

“Guy runs like a deer,” someone else echoes lightly. Mingyu peers over Seungkwan and sees another boy leaning back in his chair, Diet Coke balanced on one knee, eyes half-lidded in an expression that looks quite unbothered. His voice is calm and low in a way that almost makes you second-guess hearing it. “Vernon,” he adds simply, raising the can like a slow, lazy salute.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Seungkwan pipes up, tugging on Vernon’s sleeve without looking, “he’s probably already memorized your batting average.” Vernon shrugs with a mild smile. 

Mingyu smiles politely, though something about the boy’s normal-but-not energy makes him tilt his head a second longer. 

Mingyu’s gaze finally lands on the last body on the patio. A bleach-blond boy in a bright orange t-shirt sits criss-cross in his chair. He is looking at a small sketch pad with furrowed eyebrows and an HB #2 pencil in hand. Mingyu squints for a second, until–

“Oh!” Mingyu says with surprise, “You’re from the—”

The blond’s attention is pulled from his work, whipping his head up. His eyes widen at the sight of Mingyu. “HIIIIIIIIII NICE TO MEET YOU FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME,” he cuts off Mingyu, voice loud, chipper, and quite sharp.

Mingyu’s mouth stays open, mid-word. The blond is already on his feet, bowing so fast he throws his pencils out of his lap. He flashes Mingyu a smile of please don’t make this worse, eyes staring into Mingyu’s soul with mild terror.

“Uh. Right,” Mingyu slowly nods. “This is… new. Hi. I’m Mingyu.”

Seungkwan’s eyes narrow like a shark smelling blood in the water. ”... what was that? You two… have never met? Like never ever?”

The frazzled blond laughs unnaturally loudly. Mingyu realizes his mouth is still a little open so he shuts it quickly.

“Mingyu transferred this semester,” Seungcheol cuts in, “he’s a graphic design major, so maybe you guys have crossed paths in the arts building, Hoshi-yah.” 

“Yes!” The guy apparently named Hoshi says much too quickly. “Yes exactly! The arts building. Where I have my dance classes and Mingyu has his… design classes. Yep.” 

Mingyu blinks. Hoshi refuses eye contact.

There is a wonderfully awkward beat before Dokyeom claps his hands once, breaking the tension. “Okay! I should grab my stuff for practice, too. Do you two mind waiting a sec? I can join you guys on the walk.” 

“Make it quick, Dokyeom-ah. We need to be a little early today,” Seungcheol says with that firm voice that takes Mingyu down memory lane.

“Heard, hyung, yes, hyung!” Dokyeom chants as he skips inside.

Mingyu takes a step closer to Seungcheol, keeping his voice casual as the patio noise continues around them. 

“Seeing you all big brother-y reminds me of when you used to force Byeongcheol to take those ‘mandatory hydration breaks’ during kickball,” Mingyu says with air-quotes, smiling at the memory.

“Byeongcheol?” Seungkwan perks up, a brow raising. “You mean your actual little brother?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Well, someone had to make sure he didn’t pass out trying to outrun your mile-long strides,” he says.

Mingyu grins. “You were like a dictator with those orange slices. No mercy,” he laughs.

“Hold the phone. How do you know Byeongcheol, Mingyu-ssi?” Seungkwan asks, pointing a shockingly accusatory finger in Mingyu’s direction.

“Mingyu’s my next door neighbor. He practically lived at our house after school,” Seungcheol gives Mingyu’s shoulder a squeeze.

“My mom was juggling two jobs. The Chois always helped her out by keeping me and my sister busy,” Mingyu speaks with a quiet kind of sincerity, “so… yeah. I owe the Chois big time.”

Seungcheol just smiles, a little soft, a little protective. “You make it sound like I didn’t kick your ass in Smash Bros weekly.”

“That never happened and I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mingyu says through a wide grin. “Oh!” Mingyu remembers, “Speaking of parents, did I tell you my summer plans yet, hyung?”

“No, you and your mom doin’ something fun?”

“Nope. My dad invited me to stay with him! My mom can keep renting my room out through summer.”

Something unreadable flickers across Suengcheol’s face for only a second. “Wow. That’s… big. You excited?”

Mingyu tries to contain his grin. “I mean, yeah! He asked if I wanted to help with some projects around the house. Said it’d be ‘our summer.’ Wild, right?!”

“That’s great, man. It’s about time.” Seungcheol’s voice is gentle. They hold eye contact for a second. Mingyu looks away first, a little bashful. Suddenly, the back door rips open and–

“READY!!! Let’s get walking!” DK yells, flinging himself out of the house with his baseball bag in tow, beaming at everyone. Mingyu only now notices what an impressive amount of teeth Dokyeom has.

“Nice to meet you guys,” Mingyu waves goodbye to Seungkwan, Vernon, and Hoshi. Seungkwan says his goodbyes, and he hears a “bye” from Vernon only after he could have sworn he saw Seungkwan elbow the quiet man. Hoshi just steals a glance at Mingyu before ducking his head back into the small sketchpad propped against his knees. Mingyu chews the inside of his cheek as they leave, wondering what that guy’s deal is. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER; 8:50 PM
kim mingyu.

Mingyu stares at the text. He’s sitting on the locker room bench, putting his shoes on after showering off the sweat and dirt from practice. It’s been almost a week since Seungcheol took him to the SB Tau house. School and baseball have been keeping Mingyu pretty busy, but he finds his mind revisiting that odd encounter on the back patio fairly often.

Mingyu is certainly one for getting spam texts, but they’re usually about unpaid tolls he never drove through. Not his legal name in lowercase. Does he answer? What if someone is trying to steal his information? But… what if it’s just a classmate asking about an assignment? The period at the end sends a chill down his spine.

Mingyu clicks on the text box to begin his reply when another text appears.

UNKNOWN NUMBER; 8:51 PM
hey kim mingyu are u busy. can you get here before seungcheol-hyung does

Okay, what.

KIM MINGYU; 8:51 PM
Who is this??

Mingyu chews on a thumbnail.

UNKNOWN NUMBER; 8:51 PM
hoshi
craft store guy
please u seem chill and i need u rn but i don’t want hyung to see.

He stares at the phone.

UNKNOWN NUMBER; 8:52 PM
bring ur hands

What is this guy’s deal? ‘i need u rn’???? Mingyu doesn’t know much about hook-up culture, but this feels weird. His hands?

KIM MINGYU; 8:52 PM
Oh hey hoshi-ssi! Uh sure I guess?? Why my hands

HOSHI; 8:53 PM
can’t explain just come over pls
also go to the back door. front door is cursed rn. long story

KIM MINGYU; 8:54 PM
Omw

Mingyu shakes his head to himself as he approaches the house, trying to ignore the cloud of nerves that seems to be following him. Snaking around to the back patio, he finds the blond leaning against the house like he’s straight out of a spy-noir film: head down, hands in pockets, SB Tau baseball hat brim low on the nose. 

“Hey Ho-”

“Shh, quick,” Hoshi whispers while his eyes dart around in every direction. Quietly sliding the glass door open, he grabs Mingyu’s sleeve and pulls him inside. A TV game show can be heard from another room as Hoshi continues to drag Mingyu through the kitchen and into the hall. They ascend the staircase and slip into the first room on the right. 

“Sorry, one sec.” Hoshi’s head disappears under his bed as he rummages for something.

“Uh.” Mingyu stands still just inside the doorway, feeling quite small despite his 6'3 stature. His gaze wanders, taking in the space. There are two beds in the room: the one Hoshi is currently underneath, covered in plushies – wow, that’s a lot of tigers – and Mingyu can guess from the baseball glove on a desk below a CATS The Musical poster that the other side of the room probably belongs to his teammate Dokyeom. 

Hoshi stands up straight with his sketchpad from the other day now in hand. Is he sweating? “Okay. Sorry.” He finally lets out a deep breath. “Hi, Mingyu. Thanks for actually coming” His grin spreads wide, eyes creasing into two slits, and extends his hand for Mingyu to shake it. Mingyu can confirm that Hoshi is quite clammy as he slowly shakes the shorter man’s hand.

“Hi, Hoshi-ssi. Nice to… see you again,” Mingyu says hesitantly. “Why am I in your bedroom?”

“Sorry, I’m being so weird to you… again,” Hoshi cringes a little.  “Damn- I’ve really been nothing but weird to you.”

“No sweat, I didn’t even notice.” 

Hoshi snorts. The corner of Mingyu’s mouth twitches, but the tension in his shoulders doesn’t release. 

“So… you said you needed… me? Is something… wrong?”

“No, no no. So- okay wait, let me explain. I wasn’t lying when I said I needed your hands. But before I get into that, remember how you helped me in the craft store?” Hoshi bounces on his toes.

“When we put the embroidery aisle back together? Yep– rings a bell.” Mingyu tries a polite smile; he’s having a tough time gauging the severity of whatever situation he’s getting into. 

“Please don’t tell anyone about that,” Hoshi pleads as he shifts his weight. 

“About us meeting?”

“No, no,” Hoshi says quickly. “Where we met. I just- I can’t have anyone finding out what I was shopping for. Or even that I was in an arts and crafts store – they’d know something was up.”

“Why would you have to hide that?” Mingyu is stumped, especially as he sees a grin grow on Hoshi’s face.

“You see,” Hoshi steeples his hands in a Ted Talk-like fashion. “I’m working on something huge. Like… legacy huge.” He opens the notebook dramatically on the bed. The pages are almost unintelligible. Mingyu’s head tilts, and can almost make sense of a section of scribbles labeled “Jihoonie: five cats in a trench coat?”

“Jihoon, one of your frat brothers? You’re… drawing him something?”

Hoshi hops up to sit on his bed, feet swinging. “Not just that. Designing custom patches. Hand-embroidered. For him and for every single brother. It’s for the 10-year anniversary in the fall. Huuuge event. Everyone will be there! Nobody would expect me to do something this… put together and wholesome.” He pumps his fists. “Isn’t it genius?!”

Mingyu is impressed. “So that’s why you’re being weird. You don’t want anyone to catch wind?”

“Exactly! If Seungkwannie or Jeonghan-hyung even catch a whiff of this, it’ll be in the group chat before I can thread a needle. And then the surprise is dead. Dead and no fun at all!”

Mingyu laughs, shifting his weight to lean against Hoshi’s bed frame.

“But drawing?” Hoshi continues. “Drawing is freaking HARD. My stick figures have body dysmorphia. So when Seungcheol-hyung kept mentioning you – he showed us your art page on Instagram, by the way, really good – and I remembered ‘design major’… the story writes itself. You’re my guy, Kim Mingyu.” He punctuates his pitch with finger guns waggling at Mingyu.

Mingyu stares at him, oddly warmed by the trust in that statement. Being chosen, even in this small way, makes something bright uncurl in his chest. “You… want me to help?”

“Please. I need to get all of my ideas out but the pencils don’t listen to me. Just help me sketch and trace. I’ll handle the stabbing parts.”

Mingyu grins, flustered and glowing under the attention. Then–his brow furrows.

“Uh… but if we’re sneaking around-” Mingyu glances at the door, “isn’t this gonna… look bad? I don’t wanna like… infringe on the-” he gestures all around them, “the brotherhood or whatever. Hanging around all the time when I’m not an SB Tau. I don’t know if Seungcheol-hyung would love that, right?” He chews on his lip.

Hoshi waves a hand as if Mingyu just asked if water is wet. 

“Pffft. Cheol-hyung doesn’t have to know.” Hoshi smirks. “And even if he did, there’s no way he’d care. He loves me. Promise.”

Mingyu chews on his lip. Seungcheol’s voice is always there at the back of his mind, weighing rules against his choices. But then there’s Hoshi in front of him, grinning, practically buzzing with faith that Mingyu’s the one he needs. The tug-of-ware doesn’t last long.

“I’m in. Where do we start?”

Hoshi lights up like someone plugged him into a socket.

“First, we pick your pencil, Picasso.”

Mingyu chuckles as he climbs onto Hoshi’s bed. Hoshi shoves a blank page toward him as he scoots closer to Mingyu’s side. For some reason, the room suddenly feels a little too small, and Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind.

The sun hangs low over the Sigma Beta Tau back patio. Lo-fi beats fill the air from a speaker connected to Jihoon’s phone, despite wearing his own pair of headphones around his neck as he hunches over his laptop. Seungcheol is writing notes into the margins of a paperback book, sprawled out in a lawn chair. Chan, the youngest SB Tau, sifts through books and papers spread all over his corner of the picnic table with severely furrowed brows, gen-eds clearly kicking his ass. DK is scrolling through TikTok at full volume, seemingly unaffected by the shackles of finals season.

Mingyu sits across from Hoshi on the other end of the picnic table from Jihoon and Chan, taking a phone break and nursing the last of his iced tea, while his Principles of Design essay notes sit in front of him. Seungcheol has invited Mingyu over quite a few times in the last month or so since being introduced to the SB Taus. He’s fallen into the routine of coming over for a study session or group outing to the movies quite easily. There’s a beautiful peace about this moment, in a chaotic, frat-adjacent way— until:

*Ding*

“Oh.” The noise leaves Mingyu’s throat before he can help it. He stares at the notification on his phone screen. 

Seungcheol notices first. “What’s up?” 

Mingyu swallows, tries for a shrug that doesn’t land. 

“It’s… uh. My dad. He–” He hesitates, reading again. “He canceled on me. Said I can’t stay with him this summer.”

DK’s head swings around. “What? Why?!”

“Said he’s road tripping across Europe with his girlfriend— I didn’t even know he had one…” Mingyu’s already quiet voice seems to get quieter with every word. 

There’s a beat. Even Jihoon’s attention is captured. 

“... Yikes,” Dokyeom lets out.

“Wait, so like—where are you gonna stay?” Chan asks, face full of worry for a man he’s met twice before this. “Summer is like 10 days away.”

Mingyu laughs once, short and unconvincing. “No clue. My dorm closes after finals, my mom’s already renting out my room, and the baseball house isn’t move-in ready ‘til the end of August.” He sets his phone down like it weighs a thousand pounds. Seungcheol doesn’t even spare a blink before suggesting–

“You can crash here. Couch is yours.”

Mingyu looks up fast.

“What? No, I can’t just–” he waves his hands all around, “take over your space like that. This is your fraternity, not an airbnb.”

“It’s a couch, Mingyu. I know you’ve slept on worse. Remember that summer at baseball camp? The year the cabins flooded?”

Mingyu grimaces – then gives Seungcheol a grateful but surely uncomfortable shake of his head no.

“Seriously, thanks,” Mingyu says, “--but I don’t wanna overstep. I’ll figure something out.”

The backyard quiets for a moment, until Hoshi perks up, practically bouncing out of his seat.

“Wait, Gyu! What if… you don’t have to figure anything out?!” Mingyu blinks at the excited blond. Hoshi leans forward, eyes glimmering – everyone’s attention locked onto him. “I’m an orientation leader this summer. Free housing in the freshman dorms. BOOM.” Hoshi simulates an explosion with his hands, sporting a very wide grin.

“...Okay,” Mingyu replies, “that’s great for you. But how does that help me?”

“Because we’re hiring! Or– recruiting? Begging? Whatever. One of our OLs just dropped out last week.” Hoshi scrolls through his phone at lightning speed. “Hyelim, she runs orientation. Absolute queen. Used to be a dance major here, so we’re tight. Hold on, I’m calling her.”

Mingyu stares, half-panicked. He hears what might be a snort from Jihoon’s corner of the table. “Wait, what? Now? I’m– what would I even say?”

“Say yes.” Hoshi taps on her contact like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And smile. You’re hot, she’ll love you.”

Mingyu goes scarlet. Seungkwan isn’t even on the patio, yet Mingyu can feel the ghost of his unimpressed stare – the kind that says God, get a grip, you’re blushing like a fire hydrant. 

Hoshi flips the phone to speaker. It rings twice before—

“Hello?”

“Noona! Babe, hi! Listen. I’ve got your orientation savior right here. Tall, friendly, basically a golden retriever. Has experience as a camp counselor too. You free in an hour?”

“...Who is this?”

Hoshi’s grin doesn’t even waver. “Kwon Hoshi. Dance major. Your fave OL. The cute one. Anyway, can he swing by your office? Impromptu interview?”

A beat. 

“... If he’s even half as enthusiastic as you’re making him sound, sure. One hour.”

*Click* Hoshi beams at Mingyu.”See? You’re in.”

“I– what? I don’t even know what orientation leaders do, Hosh, I’m a transfer!”

Chan snorts. “Smile at parents and tell freshmen where the bathrooms are.”

“Oh, and hold those tiny orange flags!” DK cheers.

Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, laughing helplessly. “This is insane. Also, I- I wasn’t even a camp counselor! Seungcheol-hyung and I were campers at a baseball camp! We were like ten!”

Hoshi grins. “You’ll be perfect. We just welcome new students with open arms and make sure they aren’t scared of this place. Prepare them for the new. Free housing, free meals, and me as your co-worker, all summer long. What could go wrong?!”

Mingyu meets Hoshi’s eyes for a moment – Hoshi looks way too pleased with himself. Mingyu surrenders with an exhale.

“Fine. Let’s go meet Hyelim-ssi.”

“That’s my guy,” Seungcheol says with a clap and a smile.

Jihoon doesn’t look up from his laptop, but murmurs, “Please tell someone to record his lipsync ice breaker battle in 4k. I need to see that.”

“My what?!” Mingyu is horrified, but it’s too late. Hoshi is already pulling him from the table to make the trek to campus.

Mingyu’s dorm room is quiet. There’s no muffled laughter in the distance or peers running down the hall when it’s summer break. Just some noise once in a while from the handful of Orientation Leaders who stay here during June for their training. Mingyu’s roommate – a rising sophomore OL who Mingyu has seen twice in their shared dorm – is out, like most nights. The small group of rising sophomore OLs have really taken to each other. Rising junior Mingyu lies on his back in the narrow bed, feet hanging off the edge a little. He continues his staring contest with the ceiling fan blades. His phone rests on his chest, screen dark except for the faint glow of the time: 10:48 PM.

He exhales, thumb tapping the screen alive for the nth time, checking for notifications. Nothing. The phone unlocks and he rereads the last text in his thread with Hoshi, sitting there like a bruise: 

KIM MINGYU; 8:16 PM
You eating after training today?

Delivered. No reply.

Mingyu huffs a laugh through his nose- not bitter, just tired. His chest feels weirdly tight for something so small. He tosses the phone to the side and stares up again. The fan wobbles slightly, like it’s debating falling on him. Honestly? Could be fun.

It’s fine, Mingyu tells himself. It’s only been a week. It’s not like Orientation training has been bad. Hoshi-hyung probably just has plans. Or fell asleep. Or… doesn’t wanna babysit me every second. Normal stuff. 

He shifts, the mattress squeaking under him, but the thoughts keep circling, relentless.

God, what am I even doing? Orientation leader? I guess. Rushing a frat? Maybe- Who knows! Should I have just said yes to living on Cheol-hyung’s couch? Ugh. Will hyung regret inviting me into this world? What if I just disappoint him? What if I already HAVE? 

His chest squeezes tighter. He drags an arm over his eyes, testing if that stops the spiral. He then exhales sharply, sitting up like he can shake it off, but it clings to him. His gaze snags on the baseball cap hanging from the bedpost adorned with his high school team’s logo. A gift from his Mom when he made the team freshman year. The sight twists something in his chest, and suddenly, he’s taken back to when he was only eleven years old, standing on a dusty baseball field in far away 2008. 

Middle schoolers swarmed the area, all noise and bravado. Tween Mingyu clutched a borrowed glove like a ticking timebomb, as he looked up at Seungcheol. Being a year and a half older, Seungcheol was already much taller and broader than Mingyu, sporting his jersey like it’s a second skin.

“Hyung, what if I suck?”

“You won’t,” Seungcheol replied with that annoying and knowing grin he always seemed to be wearing.

“You don’t know that!” Mingyu’s pout grew.

“Yeah, I do. When have you ever dropped a ball? You and I both know you’re good, Gyu.”

Mingyu swallowed hard, scanning the field like it could swallow him whole any second. “...If I mess this up…”

“You won’t,” Seungcheol put a hand on his shoulder. “And even if you do, you’re still my guy.”

After a deep inhale, Mingyu had given Seungcheol a small nod, then ran out onto the field.

Mingyu presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, swallowing down the memory like a pill. It doesn’t make him feel any better. If anything, his stomach twists even more. 

He believed in me before I even knew what I wanted. How does he do that?! Luckily, baseball worked out. But what if this doesn’t? What if he’s counting on me to be an SB Tau and I blow it? He hasn’t even asked me to rush outright. Just that joke months ago. But- he keeps inviting me over. That means something, right? … Right?

The silence feels incredibly loud as the self-doubt rages inside his head. Mingyu stands up abruptly, grabbing his empty water bottle like a lifeline, and heads for the hall. 

He drags his slides down the brightly lit corridor towards the water fountain. As he passes a lounge, something catches his eye: a hunched figure on the couch, haloed by the soft glow of a table lamp. Hoshi, completely absorbed, is balancing an embroidery hoop between his knees, thread looped around his fingers like a magician mid-trick. His tongue peeks out comically in concentration. His phone lies beside him, screen black, charger tangled uselessly around it. The whole scene is unexpected, and so… him, that Mingyu just stares for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips before he can help it. He hesitates in the doorway. Then–

“You always work this hard on Friday nights?”

Hoshi yelps and jumps like someone set off fireworks, stabbing himself with the needle in the process. 

“OW—! Damn it— oh– hey! Mingyu! Hi! Uh–,” he grins sheepishly, “you didn’t see that.”

Mingyu steps into the room, biting back a laugh. “Didn’t see what? You bleeding out over arts and crafts? Totally invisible.”

Hoshi waves him off, holding up the half-finished patch like a trophy. The stitches are… earnest. A little crooked, but full of heart. “Don’t mock the process, Kim Mingyu. It’s harder than it looks.”

Mingyu drops into the armchair across from him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. 

“Looks like you’re at war with it.”

“I am. These threads are full of evil.”

Mingyu watches him struggle for a few seconds, then slides out of the armchair and onto the couch beside him without asking. He plucks the hoop gently from Hoshi’s hands. 

“Here. You’re pulling too tight. See? You gotta ease it through. Like this.” Mingyu’s big fingers move with surprising confidence – steady, precise. Hoshi stares, jaw hanging slightly open. 

“...Okay, what the hell. You are good at this. Unfair.”

Mingyu shrugs with a faint smile. “Sophomore year Home Ec project. Thought it’d be an easy A. Turns out I really liked it. Went through a phase for a year or two.” He continues to thread the needle, showing Hoshi how to keep the tension even. Hoshi leans in close to watch, his shoulder brushing Mingyu’s. Mingyu feels a bolt static under his skin. He keeps going, voice soft. “If you want… I can help. Not just sketches. Like- the actual embroidery.”

Hoshi’s gaze snaps to Mingyu, wide-eyed. “You’d do that?!”

Mingyu nods, a little shy but certain. “Of course, why not? We’re stuck together all summer, anyway. Might as well make it fun.”

Hoshi beams. It’s the kind of grin that could light a whole building. “Okay, deal. You’re officially my secret weapon, Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu grins back, warmth blooming in his chest like sunlight through a cracked door. For the first time all night, the tightness in him eases. Just sitting here, shoulder to shoulder, trading helpful tips and teasing jabs, the world feels… simple. Manageable. Like maybe he isn’t failing at everything after all. 

The two of them huddle over the hoop together, laughter spilling quietly between them as the night stretches long. The whisper of thread, the brush of arms, and the unspoken comfort of being exactly where he wants to be.

The days blurred into something bright and dizzy, stitched together by orientation training interspersed with student sessions in the day and secret embroidering deep into the night. 

Mingyu settled into his role faster than he expected. Hyelim adored him – he could tell by the way she threw him into every icebreaker, even overhearing her calling him her “unicorn find.” New students clung to his easy smile and tall frame like it was a promise of safety. Whenever he led a tour group across the quad, Hoshi’s voice was always somewhere nearby, shouting instructions for a ridiculous team-building game, laughter carrying over the summer heat. Every time Mingyu caught his eye across the lawn, Hoshi grinned like they were sharing a joke no one else could hear.

The nights belonged to their secret patch project. They claimed a corner of the dorm lounge, spreading embroidery floss like confetti over the table. Hoshi cursed at stubborn thread while Mingyu leaned close, untangling knots with hands that should be too big to be that gentle. “You’re pulling like you’re trying to choke it out,” Mingyu teased once, earning a glare sharp enough to make the taller one giggle – and a laugh from Hoshi in return that Mingyu felt in his chest for some reason.

Sometimes they ended up in Hoshi’s dorm instead, sketching and refining patch designs across Hoshi’s beat-up tiger print notebook. Hoshi sprawled on the floor while Mingyu sat cross-legged beside him, pencil gliding over the paper as they brainstormed. Every idea was louder than the last. Hoshi would throw out something chaotic, like “What if Vernon’s patch is just like… a normal guy but with an alien face?” and Mingyu would giggle and turn it into something real, something better than either of them pictured. Hoshi always looked at him with the biggest smile after that.

There were rooftop sunsets with greasy pizza balanced between them, long after student sessions left them sweaty and starving. Hoshi told stories to Mingyu like they were gifts — childhood pranks, dance competitions, the time he got locked in a costume closet freshman year – and Mingyu listened like each one was something he’d keep forever. They laughed so hard once Mingyu had nearly tipped the pizza box off the roof, clutching their sides until the campus lights below blurred with tears.

When laughter faded between the two, silence never felt awkward. It felt like gravity, like the kind of quiet that pulled you closer. Sometimes Mingyu would glance over at Hoshi – at the way he chewed the edge of his straw or drummed his fingers to a SHINee song on their blend playlist –  and his chest would squeeze tight, an ache he couldn’t name. So he didn’t. He just laughed at something stupid again, too loud.

And when Mingyu’s phone buzzed late one night as he was cozied up in bed after a strenuous orientation session—

HOSHI-HYUNG; 11:48 PM
let’s sneak in a little secret project time before cheol-hyung’s party tomorrow night ;)

—Mingyu grinned into the dark, heart thudding just a little heavier. It wasn’t just the message; it was the way Hoshi made him feel chosen. Special.

The thought warmed him as he shut his eyes, but it didn’t settle cleanly. Underneath the glow, there was a restless edge he couldn’t smooth out. It sat in his chest like a weight, sharp and soft at the same time. It stayed with him, not discernable to name, only enough to make him wonder if he’d imagined it.

It’s already a week into August, the day of SB Tau’s most important birthday. The SB Tau house is alive and well. The living room thrums with bass – Seungkwan and Vernon playfully fighting over DJ duty (Jihoon supervising their use of his equipment with all the self-restraint in the world) while a cluster of friends dance in the glow of string lights. Joshua is somehow serving jungle juice with a level of class yet to be seen in a frat house – like a calm and poised bartender at the eye of the storm. Minghao’s delightfully artistic decorations have transformed every corner into a Pinterest fever dream. There are attendees Mingyu recognizes as SB Taus he hasn’t met yet, but there are plenty of party-goers he doesn’t recognize either — maybe alumni or adjacent frat members?

Nonetheless, it’s a college summer party done right: sweaty, loud, and electric. Birthday boy Seungcheol navigates the chaos like a king, hugging brothers and friends, and taking a few too many shots in his wake. 

A handful of the guys are snacking around the island, the air thick with banter. Chan stands by the counter, cheeks stuffed full of Junhui’s homemade mango cookies. 

“Chan-ah, has anyone ever told you you kind of look like an otter when you eat?” Wonwoo asks sincerely. “Wah~~ our otter baby…” Jeonghan coos, and as Chan swats away Jeonghan’s hand going to pinch his cheek (despite the blush creeping up the youngest’s cheeks). 

Mingyu and Hoshi share a smile, until they seem to experience the same flicker of an a-ha moment. Eyes wide, Mingyu arches a brow in silent question. Hoshi answers with a subtle nod. Go time. 

They slip out of the kitchen like ghosts – well, almost ghosts. Hoshi nearly collides with Seungcheol rounding the hallway corner. Tipsy and breathless, Hoshi blurts a “sorry, hyung!” Before Seungcheol can answer, Hoshi drags Mingyu upstairs, laughter trailing like a ribbon. Mingyu’s ears flush scarlet and tries to catch Seungcheol’s expression over his shoulder, but fails as a very determined Hoshi pulls him into the room.

Mingyu stumbles through the doorway, taking it all in. He hasn’t been in Hoshi’s room since that first proposal to work on their secret project, and it’s everything he remembered and more. Comfortably messy, trinkets on every surface, the massive poster of a tiger dominating one wall. Mingyu has got to ask about the tiger thing. He files that away as Hoshi slams the door and yells, “AN OTTER! AN OTTER FOR CHAN IS PERFECT!”

“SHHHH! Hyung—” Mingyu lunges in a fit of giggles, clapping a hand over Hoshi’s mouth. For one delirious, intoxicated second, they’re too close, breaths mingling — until Hoshi licks Mingyu’s palm.

Mingyu yelps and pulls back. “Ewwwww!” he whines. “What is wrong with you?!” Hoshi replies with an evil cackle.

After he finishes pouting and wiping Hoshi’s slobber on the bedspread, Mingyu digs into the tiger-print backpack and pulls out the also tiger-print sketchbook stuffed with patch ideas. (Seriously. The tiger thing. How has Mingyu not asked before?) They sprawl across the floor, tipsy and giddy, sketching the new “otter” patch for Chan. Mingyu’s lines wobble with liquor, but Hoshi beams like it’s fine art. 

The creation looks vaguely bear-adjacent, but Hoshi insists, “it just has to rest. Marinate. It’ll look better in the morning.”

Mingyu nods, drunk logic working overtime. Their chatter spirals into delirious territory: tagging every SB Tau as an animal. (Jeonghan is a rabbit. Joshua, a doe with beautiful eyelashes. Seungcheol — a debate between a lion and a raccoon.) Mingyu finally seizes the moment.

“Okay, wait– pause. Your tiger thing. Explain.”

“Well, people said when I dance my eyes turn into a ‘tiger’s gaze’, or, Horangi Siseon, so they just started abbreviating it as ‘Ho-Shi’ and started calling me that instead of Soonyoung! It’s stuck ever since!” 

“Sorry. Instead of what? ‘Soonyoung’?”

“Mingyu… You don’t know my real first name?”

“WHAT?! HOSHI ISN’T YOUR REAL NAME?!” Mingyu’s jaw is on the floor.

Hoshi collapses into Mingyu’s side in a fit of giggles. Mingyu just stares, offended and amused, as the secret detonates like confetti between them.

A half hour of extremely deep liquor-induced philosophical discourse has passed before they can no longer ignore the pounding music that shakes the bedroom walls. Within seconds of descending the stairs, Hoshi somehow vaults onto an elevated surface, dancing shoulder-to-shoulder with DK and Seungkwan, like they were born for the spotlight. Mingyu watches from below, dizzy and fond. He can’t seem to look away.

Things finally wind down at about 2am, and, despite numerous beds upstairs, Mingyu and Hoshi decide to trek back to the campus dorms.

Mingyu lingers by the door while Hoshi sprints upstairs for his bag. Jeonghan drifts past with a drink, smiling like a cat who knows too much. “Are you sure you don’t want to crash, Mingoo~?”

Mingyu smiles but shakes his head. “We’ve got an early orientation session. The walk’s not too bad, Hoshi has invented a million shortcuts.” 

“Ahhh,” Jeonghan says with a sage nod. “Well, have a good night,” he winks, and saunters off in search of Joshua.  

“Happy birthday, hyung,” Mingyu says warmly to Seungcheol as the two are now alone by the door. 

Seungcheol smiles sincerely, his thick eyelashes almost tickling his cheeks. “Thank you, Gyu. And thank you for being here.” A beat. “You know this is how I was hoping it would be.”

Mingyu tilts his head, curious. 

“You, here. With the brothers,” Seungcheol finishes. 

Seungcheol has yet to have the official “rush” talk, so the weight of expectation hums between them. Mingyu swallows hard. Before he can answer—

CRASH! A loud clatter followed by a Hoshi-sounding groan comes from upstairs. Both men glance towards the noise. Seungcheol places a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, steady, sure. 

“Be careful, Mingyu,” he nods towards the stairs. “You know I care about you. I don’t want you to be biting off more than you can chew, so watch your step.”

His grave tone throws Mingyu for a loop. More than he can chew? Mingyu hasn’t considered any of his actions… careless, per se, but – are they? His stomach knots. He opens his mouth–

“Hyung, w—”

“GOT IT!!! Let’s get going if we want to catch some z’s, Mingyu-yah!” Hoshi barrels down the stairs in 3 strides, already hooking his arm through Mingyu’s and tugging him toward the door. 

“Goodnight, you two. Get home safe,” Seungcheol says before Hoshi has Mingyu all the way out the door. 

Cool summer air hits Mingyu’s face, but it doesn’t do much to clear the fog in his head. 

Hoshi’s bag bounces against his side as he chatters, oblivious to the storm in Mingyu’s chest. “Phew, sorry that took a second. Accidentally knocked down Dokyeom-ah’s Littlest Pet Shop dog collection. Had to reassemble their treehouse before he noticed,” Hoshi smiles to himself. He looks up at Mingyu. “Woah, you good?”

Mingyu sees Hoshi’s concerned expression and forces a grin for the sake of ease. “Yeah, just hittin’ that point in the night, you know?” he bluffs. There’s no way he’s processing anything about Seungcheol’s implications tonight. “I’m excited to be moved into the new Baseball house next month; all my future walks back from SB Tau will be… what-” Mingyu does fake-math in the air, “-30 meters tops?”

Hoshi lights up like a sparkler. “Oh my god, you’re so right! We’re about to be backyard neighbors! That’ll be perfect for our patches – we can sneak around so easily!!! Maybe we can get some soup cans and string and have secret window convos. God, that’d be epic.”

Mingyu smiles at Hoshi’s future planning. Always so eager. He wonders if Hoshi would even like Mingyu to be a part of SB Tau. Or if he would even want to hang out with him outside of the patches–

No. He cuts off that thought before it grows into a monster. He has that much self-respect, at least. But – what did Cheol mean about biting off more than he can chew? He looks down at Hoshi bopping along. 

The cool breeze feels heavy somehow, tangled with questions Mingyu is struggling to word. He forces another smile and keeps walking. 

Mingyu’s eyes flutter open to the soft warmth of sunlight across his face. He groans, instinctively rolling his head away from the window. Too bright. Way too bright. He lifts an arm to rub the sleep out of his eyes, until– what’s this? His arm won’t move. Something is pinning it down. Something… warm? 

Confused, Mingyu blinks, lashes heavy with sleep, until the blur sharpens: a mop of messy blond hair cuddled into the crook of his neck. 

His brain stutters, pulse kicking. The sunlight suddenly feels like a spotlight. He jerks his gaze around, disoriented. This isn’t even his dorm. Which means—

Mingyu’s stomach flips. He and Hoshi… slept here? Together? In Hoshi’s bed? And they’re cuddling?

Oh my god.

His body lights up like a fire. Ears burning, his face must be pure scarlet. He can feel it. He can feel him. Hoshi is curved into his side like it’s the most natural place for him to be, one arm draped across Mingyu’s waist, breathing slow and steady, lips parted slightly.

For a moment, Mingyu melts. Hoshi’s weight is nearly stifling, yes, but grounding. His blond hair tickles Mingyu’s jaw, and Mingyu can smell his shampoo, something soft and minty. Bright, like Hoshi. It hits him low in his stomach, a wave that steals his breath.

And then – like a delayed explosion — the thought detonates:

Oh my god. Do I have feelings for Hoshi?

The words are less tentative than Mingyu needs them to be. Feeling like an excuse to even call them a question. They’re sharp and sudden, a flare scorching across his mind. He doesn’t just like the easy laughter or the way they’ve turned sneaking around into an inside joke. He likes him in a way that feels alive and terrifying. 

The actualization of thoughts he’s been suppressing knocks him sideways, and right into the echo of Seungcheol’s voice:

Be careful, Mingyu. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.

This is what Seungcheol meant all along, isn’t it? The warmth in his chest curdles into panic. He shouldn’t be here. This is Hoshi. His friend. His partner-in-crime. A hopeful future brother. Seungcheol’s trust means everything, and here Mingyu is, lying in Hoshi’s bed like a line he didn’t even notice has already been crossed. 

Last night comes back in flashes – Hoshi laughing so hard during a silly drinking game of his own invention that he fell against Mingyu’s shoulder; Hoshi saying “stay a little longer” with that grin that makes everything he says sound harmless and simple. 

Mingyu swallows hard. If Hoshi wakes up, what does that even mean for them? For him? For the thing he’s been silently building towards for months?

Carefully — so carefully – Mingyu untangles Hoshi’s arm from his waist, fingers trembling like the blond is a bomb that could go off at any moment. Hoshi stirs, murmuring something unintelligible, and burrows even closer for a second. Mingyu’s heart is in his throat. 

Then Hoshi settles again. Breathing slowly, and blissfully unaware.

Mingyu exhales shakily and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. His head swims while his feet hit the floor. He takes one last look – because he can’t not – and the sight guts him: Hoshi curled into the sheets, hair a mess, sunlight painting his skin gold. Beautiful. Completely oblivious.

Mingyu slips out the door without a sound. 

September is creeping up, and the late August haze hangs over campus like a warm quilt. The easy, endless days of summer are nearly complete, swiftly being replaced with welcome emails from professors, PDF syllabi attachments, and the sudden bustle of a college town filled with familiar faces once again. For Mingyu and Hoshi, school starting means the patch project has to be slowed down. Not stopped, never stopped, but stolen moments now have to be carved more carefully into their schedules. 

Most of the brothers had chalked up the two’s secret disappearances to something, though none of them were guessing embroidery. Hoshi would giggle about their whispers, Mingyu’s giggles always following a beat behind, having to first swallow down what he refuses to address. 

“We’re gonna have that gap on Tuesdays, right? No baseball in the afternoon for you?” Hoshi whispers to him one afternoon, sprawled across the library lounge couch with his notebook open but clearly ignored. The two instead are utilizing a particularly quiet orientation day to work out their fall semester patch-plans. “You’re in the science building at noon? I’m just down the hall. We could meet in one of those lounges. I don’t think anyone ever checks those.”

“Sure, or my room,” Mingyu counters, nervous one of the SB Tau science majors could see them, like biochem major Junhui. “Less sneaking around. You also wouldn’t have to haul your embroidery backpack around like it’s contraband.” 

Hoshi groans dramatically. “But half the fun is sneaking! The thrill of it! The danger.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes, but he smiles too, because he knows Hoshi is right. The secret carries itself like an electric current, one that only the two of them can touch. Their stolen time isn’t just about the patches anymore; it’s about the way Hoshi’s laughter sticks in his chest long after, the way the world shrinks down to nothing but the sound of Hoshi whispering plans only for him.

As Hoshi tugs playfully on the drawstring of his bag, Mingyu thinks about how much he wants to keep this secret world, and how dangerous it feels in a way that has nothing to do with embroidery.

By the time the annual Sigma Beta Tau and Nu Gamma Tau Fall Kick-off rolls around, the patches are about 75% done. Mingyu always keeps track – he likes the numbers, deadlines, and progress bars in his head – while Hoshi likes to brag, “We’re flying through them, no problem!” even when he had pricked his finger three times in one sitting. The party is meant to mark the real end of the summer, a night where everyone shouts away the last of the humidity and welcomes the cooler months with too many drinks and too-loud music. Luckily, SB Tau, Nu Gamma, and the baseball house are all backyard-neighbors, so they don’t have to worry about any rogue calls from neighbors to the cops about noise complaints.

The backyard is strung up with fairy lights and packed with bodies. SB Taus are manning the grill, while other Nu Gammas are climbing patio chairs to yell over the crowd, and someone’s bluetooth speaker keeps cutting out mid-song. Mingyu has already made a few rounds with his signature soju peach lemonade, Hoshi trailing close behind, his hand brushing against Mingyu’s wrist at what Mingyu can only perceive as every chance he gets.

By the time the night simmers down, the crowd has broken into pockets: a group around the firepit, another tangled on the patio couches, Seungkwan shouting something incomprehensible to his friend Jungwoo from Nu Gamma. Mingyu and Hoshi catch each other’s eye when the chaos tilts in another direction, hearing the shouts of “MORE SHOTS!!” from Nu Gamma’s super-senior Johnny Suh. The volume of his ferocious roar rings over the momentary lull, picking spirits and energy right back up.

Hoshi gives Mingyu the smallest hint of a nod. Mingyu follows without a question.

They slip through the glass slider, up the stairs and through the familiar doorway of Hoshi and DK’s bedroom. 

“You sure Dokyeom won’t come in?” Mingyu asks.

“He already told me he’s staying at Jaehyun’s tonight! He’s pretty… distracted out there anyway,” Hoshi nods over his shoulder towards Dokyeom’s yells that can be heard through the walls. Hoshi clicks the lock shut anyway, just in case.

Hoshi connects his phone to his own speaker to drown out the party noises, putting on his and Mingyu’s shared playlist. Despite how excellently tipsy the two of them feel, it’s like clockwork the way they take their respective spots on Hoshi’s bed, grabbing the patches they were each previously working on, and grinding away. 

After some whines of his back hurting, Hoshi has now taken up what he coins ‘horizontal embroidery’, laying nearly flat on his back in his pile of pillows and plushies at the top of his bed, a leg thrown over Mingyu’s lap. Mingyu hums at the warmth. 

At this late hour, their conversation has dwindled into comfortable silence. Something about the moment feels a little extra wonderful to Mingyu, and, taking some time to reflect, catches himself watching Hoshi’s face. His eyebrows are furrowed in deep concentration as he makes small green stitches, perfecting the leaves atop of the tangerine he has embroidered for Seungkwan’s patch — an homage to the pride Seungkwan has for his homeland of Jeju Island and their famous tangerines. 

Mingyu’s heart swells suddenly in adoration for the man as he thinks back on all of the memories they’ve created in the past few months, all the laughs they’ve shared, but he feels especially grateful for how good of a person Hoshi has been to Mingyu. Without a moment’s hesitation, Hoshi took so much time and energy to make sure Mingyu was included – to make every single day fun, exciting, and spent not alone. Mingyu never would have guessed how tight this bond between him and Hoshi feels, and how naturally they fell into it. Never would have guessed how fond he has become of Seungcheol’s friend. How warm all over he feels in this exact moment, watching the older smile to himself when Chemistry by SHINee comes on the speaker. 

“Ugh, I just love this song. I might have to use it for my first choreo this semester,” Hoshi smiles to himself, trailing off.

After no reply, Hoshi looks up at the silent Mingyu. Hoshi’s expression catches for a moment as he realizes Mingyu’s attention is already locked onto Hoshi. The older holds eye contact, face not quite readable. Mingyu’s heart rate picks up at the prolonged silence, feeling a charge in the air. He is suddenly completely overwhelmed by the man two feet in front of him, too occupied to think about how much his expression reveals to Hoshi. 

Hoshi gingerly props himself up on an elbow, but it’s his parting lips that Mingyu’s eyes dart to. If Hoshi was going to say anything else, he doesn’t now. Mingyu knows a song is playing, but he doesn’t hear it. Can’t even hear the voice in his head that usually second guesses his every thought. His ears are filled with the sounds of blood rushing through his veins. He has tunnel vision, only seeing the details of Hoshi’s face: his small lashes, the cracks in his lips, the warm lights reflecting in his big, dark eyes. He learns that Hoshi has a few freckles. Every inch of Hoshi’s face consumes Mingyu’s vision more and more until he realizes he has been leaning closer and closer into Hoshi’s space. Before Mingyu has any time to rethink his decision, he steals every ounce of courage he can from the charged, thick air of the room. Heart pounding impossibly louder, he breaches through the wall of electricity. He feels every zap and tingle as he pushes forward. His hand moves on its own accord, reaching to hold Hoshi’s cheek carefully. 

The second Hoshi’s lips meet Mingyu’s, the music becomes audible again, every instrument swelling in symphony. 

“깊이 더 빠지도록, 쉬지 않고 난 계속 자극해, 전부 보여주고, 아낌없이 더 퍼붓는 impact // Do you feel it closing in on us? I want us to focus on feeling the same. We can’t even stop this, so let’s leave everything up to love” 

A current of energy explodes between the two as they move in sync. Hoshi’s hands are in Mingyu’s hair, on Mingyu’s neck, holding tight to keep him in place, embroidery hoop in his lap long forgotten. Mingyu doesn’t know who is in control of his body. He’s almost afraid this taste of Hoshi could vanish if he opens his eyes. 

They continue moving as one, sharing one breath, bodies responding with each touch. Mingyu is learning so much with each kiss. Hoshi is much firmer than he looks. Despite Mingyu’s towering build, it’s Hoshi who is making Mingyu feel grounded – giving reassuring touches, letting him know he’s not letting go.

Hoshi’s hands guide Mingyu to lay down fully beside him, never breaking the kiss. He runs his fingers through Mingyu’s hair, nails dragging along the younger’s scalp. Mingyu hums softly, Hoshi laughing through his nose at the reaction. Mingyu’s ears get hotter (if that’s even possible). Every part of Mingyu is hot, but he won’t allow himself to move an inch away from Hoshi’s body. He must have been pulling Hoshi closer, because Hoshi guides the taller boy until Mingyu is flat on his back, chest to chest. 

The new angle makes Mingyu feel engulfed in Hoshi’s adoration, wanting even more. His hand goes to Hoshi’s hips, pressing ever so slightly. Hoshi laughs at the meek gesture in the midst of such a passionate makeout, but understands nonetheless, swinging his leg over Mingyu’s body to straddle him. 

Mingyu could explode. There is Hoshi everywhere. Hoshi in front of his face. Hoshi’s hands on either side of his head. The full weight of Hoshi sat on his body. Hoshi uses this new angle to his advantage, finally breaking the kiss. He moves down the side of Mingyu’s neck, to the exact spot below Mingyu’s ear that pulls a whine low out of his throat. Hoshi doesn’t giggle this time, though, using his hips for the first time to create friction between the two. Mingyu’s hips jump with a gasp, and now he’s sure he’s dreaming. This can’t be real. 

“Hyung-” Mingyu whines, and grips tighter on Hoshi’s hips, feeling the buzz in each fingertip. Hoshi has switched ears, leaving kisses all over Mingyu’s tan skin in his wake. Mingyu’s breath becomes even heavier as he tries working up a rhythm, controlling Hoshi’s hips gently against his own. Hoshi lets out an almost inaudible groan, hastily returning to Mingyu’s lips to kiss them more powerfully than before. His hand finds Mingyu’s hair again, tugging slightly as his hips also take control, grinding down fervently through the thin layers of clothing that separates the two.

Mingyu feels that swelling of his chest from earlier again - from Hoshi’s tongue dancing with his own to the intricate and powerful pressure of Hoshi’s hips on his. Everything is rising in him, building up with such intensity, his moans getting higher and higher pitched until — a sudden thump against the bedroom door from the outside, incoherent mumbling and fumbling sounds filling the room through the crack under the door.

Mingyu and Hoshi break from the kiss with a gasp, heads whipping to the sounds. Dokyeom’s loud voice can be heard whining about “the devil’s lock” on the door, the jingling of a key repeatedly missing the keyhole, and a curse or two as something clinks to the floor. Mingyu has two panicked thoughts at the exact same time: He’s gonna see the patches— He’s gonna see us– The speed at which Mingyu nearly throws Hoshi off of him until he is completely off the bed and haphazardly shoving the patch supplies into Hoshi’s tiger-print backpack is staggering. His hands are shaking (with a completely different kind of electricity than earlier), blood drained from his face as the door bursts open and Dokyeom falls into the room. Dokyeom freezes as the two men look at him like deer in headlights. He takes in the pale-faced Mingyu, the frozen-in-place Hoshi, and the mess that is Hoshi’s bedspread.

“Oh, uh-” Dokyeom starts but is interrupted by Mingyu spitting out rushed apologies in Dokyeom’s direction, and an even hastier “See you” to Hoshi as he finally kicks Hoshi’s bag under the bed and rushes out the door, accidentally slamming it behind him. 

Mingyu barely registers stumbling down the stairs and out the back door, muttering back a half-assed “Hey” in the direction of a “Mingyu?” he hears coming from someone he passes in the backyard. He doesn’t check to see who, and he doesn’t care.

Mingyu has never known silence to be this loud. It thrums in his ears, a hollow ringing that won’t let up as he lies flat on the bare mattress of his new room. The bedframe is still in pieces against the wall, the sheets lost somewhere in half-unpacked boxes. He did plan on making his new room in the baseball house livable today, but then Hoshi had asked him to help set up for the fall kick-off, and of course Mingyu had said yes. Now the night has caught up to him, and he is left staring at the blank ceiling, stripped down and exposed, lonelier than he’s felt in a long time.

The kiss replays in his mind like a cruel loop. The heat of it, the weightlessness of their touch– and then the look in Hoshi’s eyes, a look of fear that made Mingyu’s stomach flip. Was it more than fear? Regret, even? Mingyu is certain his own face had mirrored it. Two careless idiots caught in the same mistake.  

A mistake. What will DK do now? Considering the compromising position he walked in on, he definitely knows what they were up to. Sneaking around behind all of SB Tau’s back. Behind Seungcheol’s back. Will Dokyeom tell Seungcheol? What will Seungcheol do if he finds out? He wouldn’t just be disappointed in Mingyu; he could ask him not to rush this semester. What if Seungcheol takes it out on Hoshi? Would Hoshi’s place in SB Tau be at risk because Mingyu was too weak to control himself?

No amount of tossing and turning soothes the frantic thrum in his chest, that hot, restless ache spreading through him. He should be basking in the moment he and Hoshi finally shared– but he is only horrified enough to shove this feeling down and forget it. The confusion coils tighter and tighter inside. The only thing he knows for sure is that he ruined something fragile before it even began.

At some point, exhaustion finally drags him under. Just before sleep claims him, the ugliest realization slices through the haze: he hadn’t even looked at Hoshi as he ran out. Not a glance. He never saw Hoshi’s expression; not to see his face, not to know what he was feeling. He just bolted, like a coward. The thought is enough to hollow Mingyu out, because it means the last image Hoshi will carry of him is of his back.

It’s the first day of classes, and Mingyu is already late. He was too busy with last night’s emotional turmoil that he forgot to set his alarm. He curses under his breath as he sprints through the arts building, heart pounding — not just from running, but from the mess still sitting heavy on his chest. He rounds a corner too fast and nearly crashes into someone. Hoshi.

The world tilts. Time slows just enough for regret to punch him in the gut. Hoshi’s unreadable eyes meet his. Mingyu’s breath catches. This is it. He has to say something about last night, about the kiss, about why he ran. He has to apologize for potentially harming Hoshi’s relationship with SB Tau. Maybe they can convince Dokyeom to not tell anyone. He opens his mouth, desperate to explain—

“Mingyu! You’re seriously gonna be late!”

The shout from a fellow classmate down the hall snaps him back. Mingyu falters, panic flaring. There's no time. No time for honesty or the apology burning on his tongue. All he can manage is a rushed, “I’m sorry,” as he places a hand on Hoshi’s shoulder — an instinct, a silent plea. But Hoshi flinches, shrugging him off like it meant nothing.

It hits harder than it should. Mingyu’s chest tightens, but he forces himself to move, tearing his gaze away and running past — leaving behind words he doesn’t know how to say and a chance that has already slipped through his fingers.

Mingyu doesn’t see Hoshi for the rest of the day. He keeps replaying the moment Hoshi shrugged his hand off, like Mingyu’s touch burned him. He feels devastated, not knowing how he can fix this if Hoshi hates him now. He doesn’t want anyone to take this out on Hoshi, especially Seungcheol. He doesn’t know exactly what the frat’s repercussions are for those kinds of… relations taking place between future or existing brothers, but Mingyu doesn’t want to find out. As if that someone was listening to his thoughts, a text dings on his phone.

SEUNGCHEOL-HYUNG; 8:02 PM
Sb tau house. Now

His heart sinks. 

The room is dim. Seungcheol leans against the edge of his desk, arms crossed. Mingyu sits on the edge of Seungcheol’s bed, fingers twisted together, avoiding eye contact. 

“I need you to be straight with me. What happened last night? Why is Hoshi so upset?” 

Mingyu’s throat tightens. His knee bounces. He doesn’t answer right away.

“Hyung…” Mingyu mutters, “I messed up.” He swallows, still unable to look up. “I tried – really, I tried not to let my feelings get in the way. But… I kissed him. I kissed Hoshi last night.” He rushes now, voice cracked with panic. “I shouldn’t have. I know it’s not what’s best for my chances of getting into SB Tau. Causing all this drama and breaking rules. I know how much you care about keeping things solid with the guys, and– god– I know how seriously you take your relationships and trust and all of it. I didn’t mean to risk that. I didn’t mean to ruin things.”

There’s a moment of silence. Heart beating out of his chest, Mingyu accepts it’s time to uncork what he’s been bottling for weeks. As if his volume will lessen the blow, eyes still locked on Seungcheol’s bedroom carpet, he quietly reveals, “I just… I think I really might like him.” 

Seungcheol stares. “...What?”

This sends Mingyu into a spiral. “I’m sorry, hyung, I’m so sorry! If this means I can’t rush this semester, I get it. I understand. I mean, I haven’t even been asked yet – I know that – but it’s always kind of been the plan, right? I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to mess up something that important, not with the guys, not with you.” His voice begins to shake, “I know there’s gotta be, like, a million rules about dating within the frat, and – hell, I don’t even know if Hoshi-hyung likes me like that. I mean- probably not. I kissed him and then freaked out and ran, so-”

He lets out a breathless laugh that sounds more like a choke. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’m just– I’m really sorry. Please don’t take this out on Hoshi at all, I kissed him. Punish me.”

Seungcheol holds up both hands, like he’s trying to pause time, “Wait– hold on. Back it up. You kissed him… last night… for the first time?”

“Yeah…?” Mingyu’s pout grows stronger, feeling like Seungcheol is pouring salt in the wound. 

“So you two,” Seungcheol continues, hands still up in the air, “haven’t been hooking up all summer?”

“NO??!? What?! Why would you think that?”

Seungcheol looks like his brain is short circuiting. He takes a deep breath, “Okay. So, you kissed him once – last night – and you’re freaking out because… you think you’ve committed some kind of… cardinal sin against Sigma Beta Tau?”

Mingyu stares at his elder, trying to decode Seungcheol’s incredulous tone. “Uh,” he swallows, “yeah.”

“Why-” Seungcheol lets out a singular dry laugh, “why would you think that?”

“I don’t know what the rules are! I’m not in the house yet, I don’t know the rules,” Mingyu repeats. “Your warning was clear enough for me to follow. Well– until last night,” he shakes his head to himself.

“My warning?” Seungcheol questions.

“What you said to me on your birthday. When you saw me leaving with Hoshi-hyung. You told me to be careful with him. That I needed to watch my step. But the warning didn’t even work,” he throws his hands into the air. “I still ‘bit off more than I could chew,’ just like you told me not. God, why’d I screw up this bad?! Fuck!” Mingyu swears at himself, dropping his face into his hands. Seungcheol lets him have the air, and Mingyu uses the extra seconds of silence to take a steadying breath. 

“I know–” Mingyu continues, “I know I don’t get this frat the way you do, yet, but I do know what SB Tau means to you. And that alone means a lot to me too. It’s always been my goal: being part of that. Being part of your world.” The last line hangs heavy in the air. Seungcheol softens slightly. 

“Mingyu. You think Hoshi doesn’t like you back?”

Mingyu stares at the floor, helpless, reminded of how many times he messed up in the last 24 hours. 

“Hoshi,” Seungcheol continues, “who was attached to your hip for the entire kick-off yesterday; who’s been talking about you nonstop in the group chat since June; who asked me when the baseball games are so he could come watch you play? Hoshi, who kissed you back last night? Who’s been miserable since you ran out on him for whatever reason you made up in your head?”

Mingyu’s eyes go glassy. His chest rises and falls like he’s been holding his breath for days.

“Look,” Seungcheol sighs gently, “I know you don’t want to screw anything up. And I know I haven’t asked you to rush yet, officially. But I’ve always wanted you there. You’re already part of it, Gyu. You’ve been my brother longer than any of these brothers have been. You’re already one of us. You haven’t ruined your chance to be a part of this world. You have to trust yourself.

“But that’s not what this should be about, Gyu. Hoshi is really hurt. If there’s more to this that you’re not telling me, that’s fine.” Mingyu nods at his hyung, ashamed. Seungcheol goes on, “You don’t have to tell me right now. But you do need to talk to Hoshi. That warning I gave you was to make sure you were treating him and yourself with respect. This is what matters right now. Be honest with him. Don’t shut him out. He’s… sensitive, yeah, but he’s also all heart. The worst thing you can do is make him feel like you’re not being real with him.”

Mingyu swipes at his eyes and nods again. “I will, hyung, thank you. I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol pulls him into a hug. A long one. Then–

“By the way, you know Vernon and Seungkwan are dating, right?”

Mingyu pulls back from the hug, blinking. “Wait– what?”

“Yeah. And a whole lot of other brothers h—” Seungcheol cuts himself off with a laugh. “Nevermind. But seriously, there aren’t any ‘rules’ about inter-frat dating. That’d be so stupid, dude. And frankly? Pretty homophobic.”

For the first time since last night, Mingyu laughs. Quiet, disbelieving, and relieved.

Mingyu knocks on Hoshi’s bedroom door.

“Hosh? It’s Mingyu,” he says softly. A nervous looking Dokyeom opens the door. “Oh! Sorry, DK. Is- is Hoshi-hyung around?” Mingyu asks as he tries to peer over Dokyeom’s shoulder. 

Dokyeom is wearing an expression that Mingyu hasn’t really seen from him before: sadness? Pity? Whatever it is, it makes Mingyu feel even more ready to make amends with Hoshi. 

“I saw him an hour or two ago, but he said he was going on a walk. That’s all I know, sorry Mingyu-yah.” Mingyu thanks him and heads off, determined.

Mingyu scours campus, going to every area he can think of. He’s standing alone in the quad, catching his breath and feeling only a little helpless when his eyes catch on a shape above him, feet hanging off the roof’s edge. He doesn’t have to get any closer to know that the figure has bleach blond hair and a thing for tigers. He runs into the building and up six flights of stairs until he makes it to the rooftop, the very one that Mingyu and Hoshi have shared countless boxes of stolen orientation pizza. The warm breeze tousles his dark hair in every direction as he steps out from the stairwell onto the roof. Hoshi is sitting on the rooftop’s edge, legs swinging off as he leans back on his arms. It’s not until Mingyu approaches Hoshi’s side that he notices the older wearing earbuds. The blond’s eyes are closed, his face calmer than Mingyu expected it to be. Almost meditative. 

The taller one approaches carefully, slowly sitting down on the ledge, a cautious distance away.

“Hey,” Mingyu says.

Hoshi startles, a gasp leaving his mouth. Upon recognition of the intruder, his alarmed expression turns into one of disappointment. He pointedly averts his gaze, focusing his attention out into the darkness.

Mingyu was expecting the cold shoulder. He joins Hoshi’s gaze into the night, and looks down onto the quad below. “It’s weird how busy every corner of campus is now,” he tries. “Everything used to be so quiet in the summer.”

“This rooftop used to be quiet,” Hoshi jeers without sparing Mingyu a glance. Mingyu hangs his head low apologetically. “You sure you even want to be sitting up here with me? Not too scared someone will see us up here?”

“Hyung, no, I-” Mingyu tries before being cut off.

“No, Kim Mingyu,” Hoshi retorts, sitting up straight and finally looking at the younger. “Listen. I understand panicking being walked in on. I live in a frat house. But physically throwing me off of you? Running out the door? You didn’t even look at me when you left, Mingyu. Do you have any idea how that felt? Any at all?”

“I-”

“No. You were only thinking about yourself. God forbid you be seen with me,” Hoshi’s voice cuts, low and furious. “Is your reputation really that fragile? Am I really that disposable? Just something you can toss aside? Fucking jackass.”

Mingyu winces. He’s never heard Hoshi sound so reproachful before, and it cuts straight through him. His chest aches knowing he’s the reason for it. 

“God, I’m an idiot,” he mutters, mostly to himself. He forces himself to meet Hoshi’s eyes. “I deserve that. And you really don’t deserve this. I’m sorry.”

“Do you?” Hoshi shoots back, sharp as glass. “Because last night made me feel like a stupid fucking idiot. So if this is you asking me to pretend it never happened, don’t worry. I got that message loud and clear.”

Mingyu inhales deeply, steadying himself. With a gentle but unwavering voice, he says, “It’s not about pretending. It’s about fixing something special that I messed up. Hyung, I–” his voice falters, then steadies again with a breath, “I didn’t leave because I regretted kissing you. I left because… God, I’m so dumb. I left because I thought I wasn’t allowed. And I was terrified.”

“Terrified of what? Me? Not allowed?” Hoshi’s sarcasm stumbles, but his guard remains up.

“No no no, not you. Never of you,” Mingyu reassures. “Scared that I’d ruin everything I’ve spent years trying to live up to. That Seungcheol wouldn’t forgive me, and he’d take it out on you. That the brothers would see me as someone who couldn’t control himself. That I’d blown the one thing I’ve always wanted – being part of something that felt like home.” He breathes deeply before confessing, “But none of that scared me as much as the thought of you thinking I didn’t want you, Soonyoung.”

That catches Hoshi’s attention. He blinks, clearly caught off guard.

“... What?”

Mingyu swallows, forcing himself to keep going. “I used to tell people who were trying embroidery, or any other art project really, that no one was going to give them permission for the first stitch or first brush stroke. That you just had to take it, even if your hands shook, even if you were scared of ruining the whole thing. But when it came to you,” his voice falters. “I couldn’t follow my own advice. I kept waiting for someone to tell me it was okay to want you. And no one did. So I panicked, and I ran, and I made you think you were disposable. Which is the furthest thing from the truth.”

Mingyu pulls out his wallet, fishing out a small piece of paper, torn from a notebook. The corners are soft from being folded, the pencil lines smudged from months in his wallet. On it is a simple doodle of a tall stick figure with messy black scribbles for hair, a shorter one beside him grinning so wide it takes up half his face. Overhead, “GYU + HOSH, BEST TEAM FOREVER,” is written. Around them, there are scribbles of stars and bursts, like the whole universe was celebrating. “I’ve been carrying this around since June. Ever since you drew it for me that first day of training. You made me feel welcome and a part of the team since the moment you creepily asked me to come to your bedroom. Everything with you is easy, Hosh. Well, until I screwed it up,” he sighs. “You make me feel comfortable and safe and accepted and… even then, I let these stupid rules that I’ve now learned don’t even exist get in the way of that! I just- panicked. And I hurt you. I hate that I did that.”

Hoshi’s eyes are softer now. He’s not yet smiling, but the fire in him cools. “You really kissed me because you like me? You didn’t leave because you were embarrassed of DK seeing us?”

Quietly, Mingyu says, “I kissed you because I couldn’t not. I left because I thought you’d get in trouble with SB Tau and that I wouldn't be allowed to rush. It’s ridiculous, I know that now. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it, but, Hosh. Hyung. I like you so much it makes me stupid. You’re everywhere in my head. It’s like you live there now.”

Hoshi pauses for a second, then lets out the tiniest laugh. Still looking a bit annoyed, he grumbles, “That’s so dumb. Kind of sweet, but so dumb.”

Mingyu smiles. “I’m not trying to be smooth. I just want to be honest. I didn’t talk about so much inside my head with you this summer because I thought I wasn’t allowed. That it’d ruin my chances of being in the frat and continuing to spend time with you after the summer ended. But I know I don’t need permission anymore. I like you, Soonyoung. I want to try, if you still want to. No hiding. No running.”

Hoshi leans back on his hands, staring up at the sky. He lets out a dramatic sigh. 

“You really had me thinking I made it all up in my head. That that kiss meant nothing to you. I was this close to blocking your number and pretending you died in a boat fire.”

Mingyu snorts. It breaks the tension. Finally.

“Well,” Mingyu says, “Lucky for you I’m scared of boats.”

Hoshi looks at him sideways, still a little wounded but melting under it all.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you. Not completely.”

“That’s okay. I’ll earn it.”

“You better. Do you know how awkward trying to explain that to DK was? He assumed the bag of patches you shoved under my bed was full of sex toys.”

Mingyu’s face gets red. “Oh my god, but we had our clothes on!”

Hoshi just shakes his head. “You can’t make anything make sense to a drunk Dokyeom. I think as payback you need to get me VIP seats to your baseball games. And provide snacks.”

“Done,” Mingyu says quickly.

“And,” Hoshi almost looks away, “I get to kiss you first next time.”

“Absolutely,” Mingyu blurts, failing miserably to contain his cool.

They’re smiling now. Hoshi pulls Mingyu up from the ledge and bumps his shoulder into Mingyu’s as they walk back down the stairs and to the houses. And just like that, the weight has lifted.

“By the way, dummy,” Hoshi jests as they walk through campus to their homes, “you should’ve known SB Tau doesn’t have a no-dating rule. Haven’t you hung out with Seungkwan and Vernon like a hundred times?”

Mingyu lets out the world’s most dramatic sigh before exclaiming with an impressive level of exasperation, “I didn’t know they were a couple!!”

Hoshi snorts, shaking his head. “And you think I’m clueless. C’mon, Kim Mingyu-” he nudges him with a grin, “next time, just take the damn first stitch.”

The hallway lights buzz overhead as Mingyu bounces on his toes, waiting outside the practice room. He looks sharp in a collared shirt, but the way he keeps adjusting the tie gives him away. He looks down at the scribbled, half-sweated talking points he wrote on his palm earlier, but attention is stolen as he hears the studio doors open. Dancers spill out, but his focus is only on the sweaty, flushed, radiant blond laughing in the center of the group.

Mingyu’s heart skips. He clears his throat, calling out, “Hyung–! Can I- do you have a sec?”

Hoshi looks elated to see him, waving goodbye to his peers. “Mingyu-yah! Sure thing, what’s going on?”

Instead of explaining, Mingyu grabs Hoshi’s warm wrist and gently guides him outside, leading him towards a small garden tucked behind the arts building. It’s quiet out here, just the sound of crickets. Mingyu exhales, steeling himself. “So,” he begins, “hyung.” When he looks down to try and sneak a glance at his palm-notes, his eyes get caught meeting Hoshi’s, and he sees the cutest, most patient stare looking back at him. This alone is better motivation than any ink stained hand, so he pushes through. “Will you go ou– May I please take you out on a date?”

A Cheshire-level grin breaks over Hoshi’s face. He laughs, unable to contain his joy. Infectious, Mingyu’s smile grows wide as well.

“And I mean a real one. Not a rooftop quad outlook, or secret patch time holed up in one of our rooms,” Mingyu adds quickly before Hoshi can reply.

Hoshi looks Mingyu up and down with a cheeky smirk. “Is that why you’re dressed for prom?”

“Do you want a corsage?” Mingyu butts back. 

Hoshi cackles, swatting at him. However, Mingyu swings the backpack hanging from his left shoulder to his front and reaches inside. Carefully, he pulls out a small, only slightly-crushed bouquet of flowers. 

“I thought these might help my case. Tiger lilies,” Mingyu says, cheesing.

Hoshi’s purely amused grin grows softer. “You are such an idiot. God- you’re so awesome.”

“That’s a yes, right?” Mingyu asks gently, blushing. 

“That is absolutely a yes, Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a week. Hell, he probably has been since the night they kissed on Sunday. Relief warms through him. For once, he didn’t wait for anyone’s permission. He asked Hoshi because he wanted to. Because he likes Hoshi, and Hoshi likes him. 

Before Mingyu can anticipate what’s happening, Hoshi rests one hand on Mingyu’s around the tiger lilies, the other on Mingyu’s broad shoulder. He stretches up on his tip-toes and kisses the younger one. The kiss is short, soft, sweet, and tells Mingyu that this is what the beginning feels like.

“Wait-” Hoshi stops in his tracks as they begin to walk to Mingyu’s car, and looks down at his own outfit. “I am not going on our first date in sweatpants and a cut-off. Can we stop home so I can change?”

“Aw, you didn’t want to wear sweaty clothes to the fancy restaurant?” Mingyu smirks. “I’m kidding, yes, of course. I was already planning on it. Didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to upstage you with this stunning fit of mine.”

Hoshi swats at him once again, both of them giggling like young schoolkids, bumping shoulders back and forth through the parking lot. Mingyu feels light, like the night air itself is telling him he did good.

Laughter and the smell of takeout are carried through the late-summer air. A dozen Sigma Beta Tau brothers lounge at the picnic tables on the back patio, eating, drinking, and arguing about nothing at all. Mingyu and Hoshi gently push the back gate open, hand in hand, glowing from their date, laughing at a barely-funny joke Hoshi said. 

Seungkwan spots the two first. “Oooooh,” he sings, “look at those fingers! They’re waffling, not pancaking! Somebody’s in l-o-v-e!”

The table erupts in whistles and “ooOOoohs.” Mingyu blushes hard. Hoshi preens, wiggling their hands for emphasis. 

“Well,” Hoshi clears his throat dramatically, “about that.” Mingyu squeezes his hand. A nervous but certain nod. Hoshi grins, wide and unapologetic. “Mingyu and I are dating.”

The brothers just stare. Waiting. Chewing. Someone coughs. 

Finally, Jihoon deadpans from his corner seat, “Uh, yeah. We know.”

Startled, Mingyu looks to Hoshi, “How’d you tell them already?! You said your phone died!”

Accusingly, pointing right back, Hoshi yells, “I was just about to ask you the same thing!”

They both whirl back to the crowd of onlookers, demanding in unison, “Who told?!”

“Are you guys trying to prank us right now?” Seungkwan asks.

“No!” Hoshi whines petulantly, “Mingyu took me out on our first date and asked me if he could be my boyfriend. It was really cute and sweet and-” His pout deepens as the table chuckles. 

“Wait–” Jeonghan cuts in, “You guys haven’t been dating already?” 

“No!” Mingyu and Hoshi reply in unison, scandalized.

“So you guys going over to each other’s rooms every night and locking the door… platonically…?” Chan asks.

“And you guys being attached at the hip at every party?” Jeonghan inquires.

“Jaehyun told me he sees you two getting the Couples’ Special every weekend at the Groovy Smoothie,” Dokyeom adds. 

“And the matching bracelets!” Joshua accuses, pointing at their wrists.

The brothers continue rattling off examples like a jury presenting evidence. 

“That was all purely coincidental friendship! The Couples’ Smoothie is cost-effective!” Hoshi throws his hands up.

“Well-” Mingyu grins sheepishly, “kinda friendship. I did think we’d look cute with the bracelets.” The two share a quick look, Mingyu is shy, Hoshi is smug, and it feels like a whole conversation in a smile.

“Well, congrats on finally catching up to the rest of us,” Joshua teases, raising a glass.

The brothers cheer, clinking bottles in a mock toast. Mingyu covers his face, embarrassed, but Hoshi gleefully tugs his hand down so everyone sees his grin. 

“For the record, he got so nervous he wrote notes for his confession on his palm,” Hoshi says cheekily.

“Hyung!” Mingyu yelps, horrified. The table erupts. Mingyu groans, but Hoshi leans closer, still holding tight to his hand. 

“They can laugh all they want,” Hoshi says quietly, just for Mingyu to hear, “I’m just glad you finally asked.”

Mingyu beams back at him. Around them, the patio roars with that warm, chaotic, signature-SB Tau energy, but all Mingyu can focus on is the quiet certainty in Hoshi’s hand in his.

The dining room of Sigma Beta Tau has rarely looked so formal, if formal is what you could call the mismatched tablecloths spread along the entire table, covered in too many candles and cluttered with platters of food. Every seat is filled, brothers laughing too loudly, trading stories about the fraternity and the like. 

Mingyu sits in the middle of it all, still a little stiff, but doing his best to graciously soak it all in. His nerves haven’t settled since the moment Seungcheol handed him the invitation. Not every future-pledge was asked to the anniversary dinner. To be here meant something – something official. His pulse still jumped every time Seungcheol caught his eye and gave him a nod of approval. 

“Attention!” Hoshi’s voice rings out over the chatter, a spoon clinking against his glass. 

The room quiets.

“Alright alright- before everyone gets too drunk, I’ve got something to say,” Hoshi announces, grinning like he has the world’s best secret tucked in his pocket.

“Uh oh,” Jeonghan sings. 

“I know I’ve been acting a little… weirder than usual the last few months.”

“‘Little’ feels generous,” Seungkwan pipes up.

“You’ve been sneaking around like a cartoon hamster, hyung,” DK adds. Laughter bursts down the table.

Hoshi only smirks. “That’s because I’ve been working on something. And I pulled off the biggest secret in the history of Sigma Beta Tau. Not even Jeonghan-hyung or Seungkwan caught me.” This earns a few loud gasps.

“Impossible,” Seungkwan claims, “I know everything.”

“Anyone else feeling personally attacked?” Jeonghan says, holding his heart, eyes narrow.

“Oh, you should. Because while you were all busy assuming Mingyu and I were glued together for romantic reasons–”

“How is that not the secret?!” Joshua cuts him off, raising an eyebrow, “how is there more?”

The whole patio cackles. Mingyu’s ears burn bright, while Hoshi beams, milking the moment.

“Nope! That was just a convenient distraction. This is the real surprise,” Hoshi declares, as he pulls a small wooden box out from under his chair. When he sets it on the table and lifts the lid open, the room collectively leans forward to see inside.

Neatly stacked inside are 13 embroidered patches, each one unique. Gasps fill the air.

“For the ten-year anniversary,” Hoshi explains, his voice suddenly softer, reverent. “I made a patch for each of you. To wear on whatever you want. To show my gratitude for every single one of you. You are all my brothers for life, and I wouldn’t trade anything for what SB Tau has given me.”

He shows off the very first one he made, earning some sounds of concern from the table. Thread is sticking out from every direction, and the image itself looks a bit like a firework. “It’s obviously a tiger,” Hoshi starts.

“Obviously,” Minghao echoes sarcastically.

“But after I realized I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, I enlisted some help.” Hoshi puts a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder. “Mingyu did all of the actual heavy lifting, helping me design, teaching me how to not tie my fingers to the patches when I tried to stitch, keeping me sane.” The blush creeping up Mingyu’s neck is undeniable, but he cares less about it this time. He just looks at Hoshi and returns the warmest smile possible. 

“That’s why,” Hoshi explains, as he pulls out all of the patches, “they get much nicer looking after mine.”

Hoshi begins handing them out, one by one. The reactions are immediate.

“Mine’s a tangerine!” Seungkwan exclaims, brandishing the patch like it’s treasure. “Look at the little leaf! It’s perfect!”

“Heh heh, the cat is wearing glasses,” Wonwoo chuckles, showing Chan.

“A sun with a big heart-shaped smile,” Dokyeom says proudly. “Oh my god- does it have puppy ears? It’s literally me!”

“I love my antennas,” Vernon says earnestly, holding his little alien patch.

Minghao squints at his. “Mine’s a frog. But, why does it look like he’s side-eyeing me?”

“Because it is,” Hoshi deadpans.

The table roars in laughter. Brothers pinning patches to jackets, bags, even hats, everyone buzzing with delight.

Mingyu claps along with the rest, grinning at each reveal. His chest swells just being here, able to witness this.

Then, Hoshi turns back to him. 

“And… one more.”

He pulls out a patch and holds it up to Mingyu. 

A circular patch, with ΣBΤ carefully handstitched at the top, and 김민규 at the bottom. In the middle, a beautifully sewn image picture of a spool of red thread. 

The world goes quiet around Mingyu. He stares, throat tight. He reaches out to take it gently, hands slightly trembling. He runs his fingers over the stitches, over his own name. His vision blurs immediately. 

Mingyu’s mind rushes back to the very first day – the skein of red embroidery floss he had handed Hoshi in that craft store. 

“You…” Mingyu’s voice breaks, “you made me this? But, you didn’t even know if I’d get to stay.”

Hoshi’s smile is tender. He leans closer, just enough for Mingyu to hear. 

“Told you Cheol-hyung wouldn’t care.”

Mingyu laughs, wet and shaky, tears slipping free. The sound of pounding hands against the table echoed around them as the rest of SB Tau erupts in cheers.

“You’re not getting a formal invitation, Gyu-yah, this is your invite,” Seungcheol says to him.

“Welcome to the family, Kim Mingyu!” DK shouts, raising his patch like a toast.

“OUR BOY!” someone else yells.

“Yah! Mingyu-yah!” comes another. 

The room is pure joy, pure chaos. Celebrations for Mingyu’s pledging announcement, celebrations for the brotherhood, celebrations for Hoshi’s gifts. Mingyu presses the patch to his chest, unable to stop crying, but grinning so hard it hurts. His heart swells until it feels too big to fit inside of him. He turns to Hoshi, and under the table their hands find each other, fingers interlacing like they have been since that first date over a month ago, steady and sure. 

For once, Mingyu didn’t wait for permission. He hadn’t asked if he was allowed. He simply chose.

And for the first time in his life, he knows with certainty: he belongs here. He always had.