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Every time Mingyu is tired and sick of League of Legends, he reminds himself how long he tried to be a professional League player, how much he sacrificed to be in his current position, and how Mingyu fromjust a couple of years ago would kill just to be here.
This is about one of those times, sitting in the Nongshim practice room with his head resting on one hand. Seohaeng’s voice was firm and authoritative as he gave feedback after the disastrous scrim they had against GenG, pointing at the large TV screen mounted on the wall as he broke down mistake after mistake Baekjin made.
Mid-tier teams like Nongshim don’t have the budget to build an all-star team like HLE or the reputation to retain good rosters like T1 or GenG. They make do with the resources they have and hope the talent they’re growing is good enough to go to tier 1, but even then, good players would choose reputable CL teams instead.
Mingyu thinks, given their limitations, they’ve got a good thing going on. Of course he knew that the majority of their budget went to himself and Minhyung, but their younger players aren’t bad. There are strokes of genius there, he knows, between the grind of scrims and solo queue, the clicking of keyboards at ungodly hours in the morning.
Seohaeng-hyung and Hagwon-hyung, he must admit, have a significant role in making their roster work. Going into his contract, he knew he was expected to be one of the team's pillars with Minhyung. A hard feat, Siwoo told him when he consulted him about it at ass o’clock in the morning, because you’re basically playing coach and player.
Well, he’s experiencing it first-hand now.
“I don’t think it’s just Baekjinie’s fault,” Mingyu spoke up, keeping his voice firm. “The tempo just feels off all the time, we let them run us around the map. I know Minhyung can hold his own in lane, but when he can’t then I need mid and top to be solid.”
“I know Baekjinnie made a mistake there, but we all made mistakes, and I keep getting so frustrated because the game keeps running away from us. Why is that? Even in critical team fights, I can’t set up the fight if no one listens to me. And it feels like no one does. Why is it that whenever I need you somewhere, you’re never there?”
Mingyu’s question rang around the room. He didn’t even realise he was speaking so loudly, he didn’t think of himself as an emotional person he supposed he was more frustrated than he thought. He would feel better if someone got angry, but the silence dragged on.
“Honestly,” Seungmin finally spoke up, “It feels like Minhyung-hyung is playing solo queue earlier.”
There were a few seconds of silence until Seunggyu spoke as well, “I agree. I understand that Mingyu-hyung can accommodate Minhyung-hyung’s shotcalls, and I know it’s on our individual skill too, but not all of us can do that. We’re not…”
A few moments of silence followed after Seungmin spoke. The ‘we’re not T1’, remained unspoken, but Mingyu heard it anyway. If the way Minhyung’s face hardened, he heard it too. Mingyu massaged his temples, trying to find a suitable reply to Seungmin and Seunggyu’s feedback. He came up with none. He supposed that if even he was bothered about Minhyung acting like he wished he was Keria, the kids would feel it too. And as a captain he should’ve nipped it in the bud before it festered this way.
The thing is, he never quite thought that playing in Nongshim would be anything like GenG that he couldn’t fathom Minhyung’s thought process. He signed the contract because of Minhyung, but he knew what it would entail. He never tried to play like he had Jihoon-hyung in the midlane, or the dependable Geonbu-hyung in the jungle, but Minhyung did repeatedly ask him to play ADC supports.
Fortunately, Hagwon-hyung jumped in. “Thank you, Seungmin, Seunggyu, I think that is a great point. We put together the drafts trying to accommodate your weaknesses and strengths, but I can at least say that we did not play that the way Seohaeng-hyung and I intended.”
“And it’s not like we have to play the way Hagwon and I wanted,” Seohaeng-hyung added, crossing his arms over his chest. “We want to play the way everyone wants, but it’d be helpful if you could voice it out loud so we, as the coaching team, can support you and strategise with you.”
“I understand,” Minhyung finally spoke.
Seohaeng let out a sigh, a simple agreement is probably not what he wanted. “Let’s talk about it. What did you see that the others didn’t, Minhyung-ah?”
Mingyu looked over at him, waiting for Minhyung’s answer. Every request he has rejected until now has always been the ADC suggesting champs, not explicitly the comp, with Mingyu connecting the dots himself. But Minhyung answered something entirely different.
“I don’t think we can win if we don’t take risks,” said Minhyung. “I understand that risky plays are burdensome and can turn things worse, but it also means it can turn things in our favor. If we don’t take risks, we wouldn’t go very far. ”
Then, “And I wouldn’t call it if I didn’t believe we could do it, but I need all of you to believe in yourselves as well. If Baekjin wasn’t so scared of dying in the Attakhan fight and went in more before he ulted, we could’ve engaged the Pantheon, he’s already useless at that point. I really don’t think it’s a draft problem.”
He looked at Mingyu then. “And Mingyu, I can’t carry by myself. You’re saying no one is ever where they need to be, but you’re not taking initiatives and making plays either. Stop… shadowing me, why aren’t we diving? Why aren’t we doing more?”
It was such an insane thing to say that Mingyu couldn’t help but say, “What the fuck are you even saying?”
“Mingyu,” Hagwon warned.
“No, please, tell me,” said Mingyu, raising his tone at Minhyung. “I was on Leona. What do you want me to do with Leona?”
“We need to draft more agressive champs for Mingyu,” Minhyung addressed the coaches instead of Mingyu, upsetting him even more.
“But he wasn’t on a support carry champ, so why are you expecting him to be?” Seungmin doubled down before Mingyu could speak. “I understand clutch is important, it makes or breaks the game, but I think we each know the limits of our form and you didn’t consider us or the comp at all. Hyung.” The honorific was tacked on as an afterthought.
“I agree,” Seunggyu quietly said. “I think Mingyu-hyung was trying his best, and I know Mingyu-hyung can keep up with you, but what about us? I’m not… I’m not Zeus.”
The tension was so thick that Mingyu could barely breathe, especially with the mention of one of T1’s more iconic toplaners. It felt like another targeted attack, but Mingyu was more surprised that the kids are actually defending him.
“I understand,” Minhyung repeated. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Thank you,” Seungmin said.
Then, in the quietest voice that could still be heard, Baekjin said, “I just want to go to MSI.”
Mingyu couldn’t resist the smile that formed on his lips. For some reason, the statement felt so pure compared to all of the issues that everyone addressed. The room lightened slightly, Mingyu let out a deep breath as he smiled to himself.
“Me too, Baekjin-ah,” Mingyu said.
“We all do,” Seohaeng smiled softly. “I think we are a strong team, but we do need to work on our communication a little more. I hope that you can reflect on what we talked about today and I’ll see you guys at the draft meeting tomorrow before scrims. Mingyu, can I talk you for a bit?”
Mingyu perked up, “Yeah.”
Seohaeng at least waited until they were outside of the practice room before saying, “I need you to stop forgetting you have three kids.”
The extremely deep sigh that came out of Mingyu was involuntary. “I’m sorry.”
“Minhyung is making winning calls that would work if it was any other team, and I know you can adapt to it easily with your experience, but not the kids,” said Seohaeng. “I need you… to reign him in, be the fence when he gets too impatient or eager instead of fueling it.”
Mingyu nodded, “I understand.”
“He’s been talking to me and Hagwon about making you play AD champs, giving you a little more agency as a Support, is that something you want to try?” Seohaeng waited a second, watching his expression, before continuing. “If you’re not comfortable with it, we can shoot it down right away. You can shoot it down right away.”
“Why are you telling me this now instead of at the draft meeting tomorrow?” Mingyu asked.
“Because when the kids see mom and dad fighting, they get discouraged,” Seohaeng answered easily. “I don’t think you realise just how much the kids depend on you and Minhyung being on the same page, they run around like a headless chicken when you guys aren’t.”
Mingyu rolled his eyes, “That’s not even true.”
“Sure, Xayah,” Seohaeng said.
“Wouldn’t I be Rakan in this case?” He tilted his head slightly.
“Anyway, I need to know your stance on it,” the head coach reminded him, changing the topic. Then, “I don’t think you’re one to shy away from non-standard picks, Mingyu-ya, I need to know what your issue is with this one.”
Mingyu sighed, sticking his hand into his pockets. “I debuted quite late, I think everyone knows that, I am reminded every single time my anniversary comes up and it’s such a small number compared to Minhyung, or… I don’t know, Hwanjoong.”
Seohaeng only hummed in response, so Mingyu went on. “I spent… at least my first year in GenG trying to be half as good as Lehends. I’m filling the shoes of someone who got MSI FMVP as a support, hyung, people don’t even vote for Support for MVP unless it’s…”
“Keria.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened slightly behind his glasses. Of course Seohaeng would notice. “Yeah.”
“I was a caster too, you know, they don’t vote for you if you’re not flashy and Support just doesn’t have that kind of role,” Seohaeng said. “So, what, now you’re worried they’re going to think you’re trying to be Keria? Doesn’t sound like you.”
“It feels like Minhyung wishes I was someone else sometimes,” Mingyu admitted. “It’s petty, I know, but I feel like my ADCs have been trying to get me to play like their other support for most of my career.”
Seohaeng pouted his lips slightly as he thought about Mingyu’s words, like he was trying to find his own. Then, “I don’t think you played like Lehends at all, though. You never played like him.”
Mingyu pursed his lips thinly, knowing that Blitzcrank will always be a Lehends special. “If there’s a non ADC support counter, I’d rather we do that. I know Minhyung will push, but this is one thing I won’t budge. I don’t play ADC champs, hyung, the last time I was an ADC was before LSB.”
“Yeah, that seems like too much to get into in the short-term. But I think that’s how the meta will be looking like for the rest of the year, Mingyu-ya, so if you could start trying out ADC champs on solo queue…,” Seohaeng seems to have noticed how Mingyu’s expression darkened, so he continued, “It’s a safety measure, we might not need it. Ever.”
Mingyu nodded quickly, “I understand. I’ve talked to him too, several times now,” Mingyu said, trying not to sound too upset about it. “He keeps bringing it up. Even during the break… he was talking about it too.”
“He’s obsessed with it.”
“He’s quite stubborn, yeah. I’ll.. I’ll talk to him,” Mingyu scratched the back of his head. Not like he hasn’t tried, not like he has literally served the ADC an ultimatum. “A family unit doesn’t function when mom and dad aren’t communicating, right?”
“You want an advice from a dad?”
Mingyu made a face, “You are not my dad.”
“I said a dad, not yours,” Seohaeng smiled slightly. “A family unit works on compromises, that’s how I can be working as a coach in the first place, and why you need to fight it out with Minhyung away from the kids,” he emphasized the last few words.
“I’ll talk to him,” Mingyu repeated. “I didn’t mean to have an outburst, he was just being really ridiculous. I mean, you get it, right?” He tried not to sound too desperate for validation, but it sure was difficult not to.
At that, Seohaeng let out a slight chuckle. “I know. Take a break before solo queue, Mingyu-ya, and make sure Minhyung actually sleeps later.”
Mingyu wanted to protest that he was not Minhyung’s babysitter, but he supposed he did just say that they were a family unit.
“Okay.”
When he came back to the practice room, Minhyung was on his phone with a slight pout on his lips. Not quite unapproachable, but one does not need to be a genius to notice that he was in a very particular mood. The kids tend to give Minhyung space when this happens.
Not Mingyu, though.
Mingyu walked over and stood in front of him, tugging his sleeve. Minhyung looked up from his phone, still looking a bit defeated, but otherwise unbothered that Mingyu was talking to him. “What’s up?”
“Do you want to go to the convenience store?” He asked. “I want ice cream.”
“Hmm, don’t we have ice cream in the fridge?” Minhyung suggested.
“We ran out,” Mingyu stubbornly responded. “Come on. Get up, you lazy ass.”
Minhyung sighed like he really didn’t want to move but eventually gave in anyway. Mingyu wondered if he noticed how the tension in the room dissipated when the ADC decided to follow him out, how so much of the team atmosphere depended on Minhyung bringing the vibes and how much it affected the rest of them when he was tense.
With a lineup so lively and relatively cheerful, feedback is very rarely tense. Seunggyu is always ready to brighten up the atmosphere, along with Seungmin. But overall, he and Minhyung try to ensure that the mood is always positive, so Minhyung down in the dumps tend to drag the mood quite a lot. They are the co-captains after all.
“Did the coach tell you to keep me in line?” Minhyung asked once they were outside, shivering slightly. The air outside was still cold enough for a light jacket that he conveniently forgot to take on their way down.
“No, just told me to make sure you actually sleep,” Mingyu handed over his cardigan without question. “I really do want ice cream, it’s been too long since we had some.”
“You eat a lot of sweets.” Minhyung took the jacket and put it on without saying anything else. They were of similar build, but it honestly looked better on Minhyung than it ever did on Mingyu. Well, Minhyung was more handsome than him and that might have something to do with it.
Mingyu chuckled, “And this is a surprise to you?”
“Not at all, just a concerned citizen,” Minhyung jokingly answered. Then, “You should’ve told me if my calls weren’t being taken well.”
The mood turned more sombre, and Mingyu sighed. “I didn’t notice either. I mean, I was focused on trying to make the calls. It’s my mistake, I should’ve reigned you in and I’ll keep that in mind for our next match.”
“Yeah,” Minhyung responded. “I shouldn’t have needed you to rein me in in the first place. Sorry for putting you on the spot like that.”
“There’s a reason we’re co-captains, right?” Mingyu tried to brighten the mood. “Whoever we’re going against doesn’t matter as long as we play well, so let’s play well and have fun. We’ll get to MSI, I promise.”
“Actually, I want to talk about Keria. I think you deserve to know.”
Mingyu blinked. He did not expect that. Thank god for the timing as they arrived at the convenience store. “Hey, do you think the kids want ice cream?”
“Mingyu-ya.”
Now, Mingyu is not the most composed person on earth. Sure, he has mellowed out as most people do when they get older, but he’s still the same Joo Mingyu who crashes out over solo queue rankings and ELOs. But this is not how he wanted to hear about his crush’s ex.
“If it’s not about League of Legends, I don’t want to talk about it until after Road to MSI,” Mingyu said decisively, looking at Minhyung. The street of the neighborhood was dark except for the neon sign of the convenience store, illuminating their faces.
“It has everything to do with League of Legends,” Minhyung said, “We can’t play if we go on like this, Mingyu-ya, I need you to understand.”
“Okay, but I want to do it with ice cream. I would actually prefer soju, but we have an important match in two days,” Mingyu said, walking into the convenience store. He went straight to the freezer.
“I want dweji bar,” Minhyung said, coming up behind him.
“Ask the kids what they want,” Mingyu grabbed the dweji bar from the freezer. He had taken an encho for himself and refused to look at Minhyung for now. Instead, he rested his hands on the edge of the freezer as he gave himself time to think.
Liking your teammate sucks.
But Mingyu is a professional League of Legends player, he had worked hard to get where he is now. He knew if Minhyung said it had everything to do with League of Legends, it must be. So he pushed aside whatever upsets he might have over talking about Keria.
And the thing about Gumayusi and Keria is that everyone kind of knew they were dating, until they’re not. But it’s quite obvious and it wasn’t a secret and when they fell out no one actually knew what happened other than they broke up. And no, it wasn’t the kind of break up Jaehyuk and Siwoo had when Jaehyuk went to China, it was supposedly worse.
So, Mingyu had just assumed it was a romantic thing. Maybe winning a match when you’re both professional League players is the equivalent of winning the breakup. Mingyu isn’t sure. He never had to go through it, but he didn’t feel the need to pry. He didn’t want to know.
But here one half of the legendary duo was offering his side of the story and Mingyu really really did not want to know.
On one hand, the small crush he held towards the ADC made it difficult to even think of him with anyone else. He’s too old for jealousy, he can deal with his stupid crush. But his pride as a Support trumps any romantic feelings he might have and he’d rather not hear whatever excuse Minhyung could make up to make him play like Keria.
Minhyung pulled him to walk the long way around after they paid, trying to eat his precious dweji bar without getting it all over himself. He didn’t talk as they made their way to a public playground nearby and Mingyu didn’t want to break the silence in case he said the wrong thing. The mood was too heavy, but Minhyung was holding him by the wrist, and Mingyu couldn’t quite find the words to tell him that he wasn’t going anywhere.
They couldn’t take too long; getting in the queue takes a while these days, and Seohaeng was strict with solo queue. But if there’s any time the coach would understand why they took a while, Mingyu supposed it was this one. They each settled on a set of swings, entirely too small for two adult men standing at over 180 cm, and he felt ridiculous just sitting there.
Waiting for his crush and lane partner to talk about his ex.
What kind of psychological warfare is this?
“Well,” Minhyung had started. “I realize that I am being very weird about Minseok and I’m sorry it’s burdening the team in such a way.”
Mingyu hummed, opening his own ice cream. “Shouldn’t you be telling the kids this? Seunggyu looked like he was going to cry.”
Minhyung laughed mirthlessly. “Would you talk to the kids about how you liked it better with Jaehyuk-hyung?”
“No, because I don’t like it better with Jaehyuk-hyung,” Mingyu tried not to sound too offended. He was trying really hard not to be a temperamental dick, but the way Minhyung spoke wasn’t making it easy. Maybe Minhyung was projecting, but does that mean he really does like it better with Keria?
“Minseok is the one person I don’t want to lose to, no matter what team he’s in,” Minhyung said instead. “It’s kind of stupid and irrational, but I always felt like losing to him means that I’m really only good with him.”
Mingyu cleared his throat. “Were you… you know?”
“Oh. Yeah,” Minhyung responded. “We were together for quite some time. As lovers, I mean, not just a bot duo. It was great for a while, we were winning together and everything was… you know when someone speaks your name as natural as breathing and it’s like… it feels right that you’re constantly the first person they seek out in any setting? That was Minseok for me.”
“I see.”
“It’s really… Sorry, I assumed you’d be okay talking about it because of Jaehyuk-hyung and Siwoo-hyung…”
“No, no, I’ve been there, I get it,” Mingyu said, shaking his head. “You’ve met my ex once, remember, before she broke up with me?”
“The dog owner.”
“Yeah, I understand you.”
“Yeah,” Minhyung sighed. “Well, turns out he only loved winning, and I happen to be part of that winning formula for him until I wasn’t anymore. Nothing I did or do was ever good enough for him. And I was an idiot, so I tried to make it work, played champs like Kai’Sa and Ezreal on solo queue, and the coaches are… they’re not Seohaeng-hyung, you know?”
Mingyu hummed.
“I don’t hate Minseok,” Minhyung declared. “I think we just wanted different things. It’s on me for expecting something more when he was only thinking of League. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, but I also haven’t won anything since I left and it’s like… I’m fucking tired of people saying I’m nothing without him, you know? I’m a good player too. I adapted to fit him. And he just… rubs it in my face all the time.”
Mingyu raised his eyebrows, “He does?”
“It’s probably just me being too sensitive,” Minhyung shrugged. “It’s usually me being sensitive, when it comes to him. Sometimes things you thought mattered just don’t to other people. They’re not wrong, I am the one who’s wrong for expecting so much.”
“That’s rough,” Mingyu, ever so well-spoken, said before eating his ice cream. He winced when he found that the ice is too cold and hurt his teeth.
“Well.”
“I mean, I kind of guessed,” Mingyu shrugged. “I don’t think it’s an excuse to ask me to play his champs like I’m his replacement. If I were you I’d run him down with Zeri to prove that you’re capable of doing things without him. But that’s just me.”
“You can never be his replacement, Mingyu-ya.”
Mingyu sighed. It shouldn’t really hurt, he liked to think positively of his ADC, but it’s getting really hard to. “I don’t want to be,” he clarified, voice shaking slightly. “I can’t say I understand from a LoL angle, I don’t. Jaehyuk-hyung and I weren’t like that and I will never face him on the rift again. But if you know you changed to fit him, why not change again? You don’t have to win against him with your formula, we can make a new one.”
“Right.”
“It’s so shitty of you to demand every support who works with you to be Keria when they’re good Supports in their own right. Like, you know I’ve won Worlds too, right? Fuck, I have more MSI wins than him,” Mingyu tried to keep his voice even, but even he realised it came out shaky. “I’m a good support too. And I know I’m not some rookie genius monster who is glazed by literally everyone, I was still in CL when you were winning Worlds, but surely there’s something I can do that he can’t? Do you have to insist to even the coaches and repeatedly to myself that I play like Keria?”
“I wanted to play with you because I thought we could make something new. I literally walked away from GenG because you specifically asked for me, because you said we had synergy from all the way back in 2025.” His cheeks felt damp, when did he start crying? Mingyu’s emotions always manifested in anger, but he feels like a dam burst open as he went on. “And you want me to play like a different support? I’m not some first year support you can just push around like that, Minhyung-ah.”
“I hurt you.”
“No fucking shit.”
He tried to wipe away his tears, but he had an uneaten ice cream in his hand too and it made things a little too complicated. And then, because Minhyung is actually insane, he reached over and used his thumb to wipe the tears off Mingyu’s cheek. And Mingyu’s brain switched from frustration to just a complete short-circuit because.
What.
“Sorry I made you cry, Mingyu-ya, I shouldn’t have,” Minhyung said. “It’s all on me and I made you carry all that on top of caring for the kids. I’m selfish. I’m sorry.”
Mingyu bristled, but he couldn’t quite get himself to pull away from Minhyung’s gentle hand. “I’ll start practicing ADC champs as support.”
“Mingyu.”
“It’s not something for Road to MSI, I don’t think it will come up any time soon, we might not even need it, but,” Mingyu paused. “I can try if it’s the meta. Fuck, I’m a professional too.”
“I actually have something I want you to test out,” said Minhyung. “It’s a counter that doesn’t need you to play AD support, but I think it would work as well. I wanted to talk to you about this, I should’ve told you sooner.”
Mingyu was still trying to keep himself together. “I’ve never even cried over League like this, you bastard.”
“Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t quite sure about it and wanted to test it out on solo queue,” Minhyung said.
“I should literally be your designated sounding board we’re co-captains,” Mingyu said, dripping ice cream all over his hand. “Fuck, I need a tissue. Goddammit, Lee Minhyung, fuck you. I hate you, you’re such a prick.”
Minhyung had chuckled. “I know, I know. I don’t have a tissue right now, though.”
“It’s on my pants!”
“Then finish your ice cream and we’ll get changed before going to the gaming house,” Minhyung suggested. “You are so dramatic, Mingyu-ya.”
“I feel sticky,” he whined.
“Somehow strange, this feeling melts away, sticky sticky sticky?” Minhyung teased him.
It was such an old song at this point that Mingyu took a second before understanding the joke. And then he just got upset and lunged at Minhyung, who’s caught unaware, and they both fell from the swings on the hard ground.
Minhyung laughed, Mingyu laughed too above him, and the ice cream is now on both of their clothes. “You’re really a titan,” said Minhyung between laughs. “You got your ice cream on both of us!”
“Serves you right,” Mingyu petulantly said.
But Minhyung wasn’t having it, trying to tickle him as they rolled on the dirty ground, fighting for some kind of dominance. Mingyu fought back, never one to back down from childish activities, and he found the brawl turning into the most ridiculous tickle fight he’s ever been a part of in his life.
Except it stopped being funny when Minhyung accidentally nudged Mingyu’s glasses off his face, leaving it broken.
“Oh shit,” Minhyung was the first to react, getting off of Mingyu to get the glasses. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Did you break it?!” Mingyu panicked, sitting up on the ground. He couldn’t quite see Minhyung clearly, the man a blur.
“I hope you have a spare.”
“I do.”
“Thank god, else we’re not playing the next match,” Minhyung let out a relieved sigh, leaning back on his hands.
They looked at each other for a few seconds. They were covered in dirt and ice cream at this point, whatever they bought for the team forgotten with the broken glasses in Minhyung’s hand. It’s stupid and ridiculous and probably not how two 26 year olds should be behaving. But they play video games professionally, no matter what people would describe it as, and Mingyu supposed it was actually quite on-brand.
They each got off the ground and tried to brush the dirt off their clothes. Except there is ice cream in their hair and they look like they were at war with Baskin and Robbins. So they laughed again. And they tried to collect themselves as they walked back, but neither of them could stop giggling at how ridiculous they probably look right now.
“You need a shower,” Minhyung nudged Mingyu’s shoulder with his as they walked back to the dorms. No way they’re going to the practice room in this state.
“You need a shower,” Mingyu nudged him back. And if there’s a limit to how much joy one can feel in their lives, Mingyu thinks he might have used it up then.
It was only when they reached the dorms that Mingyu realised they had forgotten to bring the team’s ice cream. And when they finally reached the practice room after their showers, Seohaeng eyed them suspiciously.
“You… showered?” Seohaeng asked skeptically. “Didn’t you go to the convenience store? What happened?”
“Yeah, we were a little sticky,” Minhyung joked, grinning at Mingyu meaningfully.
Baekjin nearly choked on air, even Hagwon-hyung was coughing. Seohaeng cleared his throat. “Right. Well, this is not what I thought would happen when I told you to talk it out, but I hope you two are… being safe.”
“Minhyung broke my glasses,” Mingyu said, a little sulky.
“Right…” Seohaeng trailed off, still trying to discern the two. “Yeah. Sure.”
Mingyu can summarise the disaster in game 4 with a couple of sentences, but he doesn’t think he has the words to describe game 5 at all.
Game 4 was a trainwreck, every single pick shut down that his team couldn’t do anything. Akali and the enemy jungler repeatedly caught Baekjin’s Viktor, so he never had the chance to scale. Toplane is an even match-up, but Minhyung’s Smolder had to work over time with Viktor struggling in lane. In the end, Mingyu’s Nami can’t help much and they lose both their scaling champs. It put them one match away from missing MSI and at least two series away from going there.
Game 5?
Game 5 reminded him of how he played with Minhyung all those years ago, in a mickey mouse match coached by Smeb and Kim Minkyo. Sleep-deprived, desperately wanting to go home, and using Minhyung’s tinted lip balm. But the ecstasy, the joy, the absolutely perfect synergy between them was back and the kids showed up. Seungmin’s Vi put some pressure off Minhyung to carry and Baekjin was steady in mid. Seungyu’s Renekton was so broken that it pushed them ahead.
Everyone showed up, everyone was moving as a unit, and the moment the nexus was taken Mingyu was so overjoyed you’d think they won Worlds.
(They didn’t, but they just beat Keria, and Mingyu knew Minhyung thought the same when the ADC immediately went to hug him as the nexus was taken)
They went around to bump fists with the opposing team, Mingyu’s face neutral when he faced his ADC’s previous support, and he can’t help but think that he won something today. He might have one more match before going to MSI, but he won. Somehow, he won. They won, him and Minhyung, his team, against a team they never even got one game from. Against Keria. Against someone he once admired, so many years ago when he was in CL.
Against someone who hurt his ADC in all the ways that mattered. Mingyu only hoped that it would bring a little beat of healing for his ADC. His ADC with his head held up high, not able to keep his smile away as he did his winning pose. And Mingyu, so enraptured in his ADC’s charm that he nearly forgot to do his.
His ADC.
The high did not disappear as they walked back to the waiting room, Minhyung wrapping his arm around his shoulder as they walked. Minhyung was really the most handsome when he was smiling, beaming at him like Mingyu meant something to him.
“You did great, you were so good, Mingyu-ya,” his ADC said, patting his shoulder several times. Minhyung’s smile was contagious too. “You’re the best support I have ever had.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and tried to speak, “Minhyung-ah—”
“Good job guys!” Seohaeng cut him off the moment they reached the waiting room. Minhyung was forced away from Mingyu as Seohaeng went to hug each of them, and Mingyu felt a little loss of warmth when he lost Minhyung from his side.
“One more series, guys,” Hagwon gave him a one-armed hug as well. “You were amazing today, let’s keep this form all the way to the next series.”
“Let’s go to MSI!” Seunggyu shouted, causing everyone to laugh.
Mingyu was naturally drawn to Minhyung, currently talking to Baekjin. He was about to walk over to steal him away from the midlaner, desperate to respond to Minhyung’s declaration earlier, but it seems that the stars aren’t aligning today for him outside the rift.
“Duro-seonsu, please come out for the player of the match interview,” a staff said from the doorway just as he grabbed Minhyung’s sleeve.
Mingyu looked at Minhyung, who smiled at him. “Go. You deserve it. Have your moment, Mingyu-ya.”
There were so many things that Mingyu wanted to tell him. Thank you. I’m in love with you. You’re also the best ADC I’ve ever had. Not a single one of them came out, not in the crowded green room, not when Mingyu was needed as a captain to go out there and pretend he didn't want to kiss his ADC silly.
“Yeah, okay,” Mingyu smiled back, patting Minhyung’s shoulder before leaving the green room.
He’ll save it for later.