Work Text:
the kitchen is soaked in gold. the wall clock ticks in the serene morning.
golden light spills through the small window above the sink, turning the steam from the kettle into soft, hazy ribbons.
minghao stands right in the middle of it, sleeves pushed up, hair still messy from sleep. he pours the freshly brewed tea onto his cup. he moves slowly—too slowly for someone who claims he 'slept fine.'
well, for one: he didn't.
it shows in the way his eyes blink just a touch longer than usual, with the occasional sighs he unknowingly heaves out. it also shows in the way he wraps both hands around his tea cup as if stealing warmth.
minghao's so deep in his thought that he doesn't even hear their dorm's door open.
junhui walks in, towel slung over his shoulder and shirt clinging to his body after an early morning training.
he glows under the morning light, in a way only people who enjoy self-inflicted pain at sunrise can glow.
he spots minghao absent-mindedly staring at nowhere and grins. it's that easy, practiced grin he only ever uses on the other.
slowly, he makes his way over the kitchen.
"morning!" junhui greets, leaning against the counter and snickered at the sight of minghao, "you look like you fought sleep and lost."
the other, now aware of junhui's presence, did not even turn to look yet still managed to answer, "mmm. you smell like you fought a dragon and lost."
junhui laughs—the sound loud, bright, and a bit too fond. it's as if they're the only ones on the dorm, and in the world, now.
he reaches for minghao's cup with the confidence of someone who's done it for years. true enough, minghao doesn't even blink. he turns to junhui and flicks his wrist.
"ow!"
"hands off."
"...gabriela?" junhui joked, rubbing his wrist to soothe the spot. he smiles at minghao, looking like they're in the middle of a dance they've done a hundred times.
before junhui can try and pick on minghao again, another door creaks open. the two turn their heads to the sound at the same time.
seokmin shuffles in, hair sticking out like a startled puppy and his shirt half tucked.
he's stretching by the doorway, eyes still half-closed but already smiling warm enough to light the whole room—a total sunshine.
"good mo— oh."
he halts from his steps after stretching.
his eyes dart from junhui's playfully cute grin... to minghao's tired but gentle glare... and to the way the two stand just a little too close.
a weird tug pulls at his chest.
yet, before the feeling even gets a name, junhui strikes. he tries to sneak his hand toward minghao's mug again.
minghao flicks him harder, and junhui had no choice but to yelp dramatically.
meanwhile, seokmin who's still barely awake, now bursts into laughter. it's so loud that it echoes through the whole dorm.
the other two stopped from their antics and looked at him. minghao raises a brow and junhui wears a fond grin, looking quite amused.
"it's too early for your things, guys," seokmin says in between his hearty laughs. his shoulder shakes, half-mortified and half-delighted from laughing too much.
a few minutes more, he finally calms down. his eyes then finds minghao staring at him.
it wasn't sharp. not cold even. he looks like he's just... studying him—soft, in a way that makes seokmin's breath hitch.
seokmin blinks, "y-you always look at me like that."
"hmm?"
he mentally curses when he realised he just spoke his thoughts, and now even junhui looks at him in confusion.
"i.. wh— d-don't you guys have classes?!" seokmin blurted out, looking at the wall clock showing time almost 10 am.
junhui bursts out laughing this time, "i just got back from training, seok. you want me to go out again?"
minghao stays silent. he only lifts his cup to his lips, taking a slow sip.
"i-i.. i don't know? maybe?" seokmin shrugs, his ears bright red from embarrassment, "you know what? i'll just make breakfast! no more talking! g-go do your things!"
he makes his way to the kitchen, shooing the two away. minghao can only shake his head while holding onto his morning tea. junhui, on the other hand, goes straight to his room to take a shower—he doesn't want to smell like someone who fought a dragon and lost.
the morning settles around them again, like they're back in their individual lives. the day's warm and bright but, interestingly, a bit too intimate for three people living under the same roof.
the three of them share a cramped dorm near campus, about a five minute walk—sometimes ten when they go together, thanks to their endless banters.
the place is tucked between an antique shop and a small café that always smells like burnt beans, at least to minghao's preference.
they met through the oddest mix of coincidences; minghao takes fine arts, junhui's in sports science, and seokmin in music education—who all happen to be looking for a place to crash in for the last two grueling semester. different worlds, but somehow, they slid into each other's routines as if gravity had decided they belonged together.
from awkward greetings, their typical day now blurs through shared meals at ungodly hour, mismatched schedules, and the subtle yearning of having to make time and connect more.
after breakfast, seokmin leaves to get ready for class while junhui volunteers to do the dishes before he goes for another training.
minghao stays behind in the quiet hum of the kitchen; his tea has gone cold, untouched.
"don't you have any classes today?" junhui asks, as he slips into his training shoes by the door. minghao shakes his head, "dr. choi moved our classes on saturday."
the former only nods before waving his hand goodbye. minghao sighs and looks down. the soft morning light cuts across the counter, but his eyes stay fixed on his phone, thumb hovering.
he opens his messages without thinking. it's like muscle memory mixed with curiosity and a pressure in his chest he can't name. unconsciously, he clicks on a specific thread.
the contact name shows as junpi. it was the old number.
the scroll bar jumps high, and there are so many messages left in the dark... some recent, but most are from two years ago—before they even settle themselves in a setup under one roof.
"are you home? i can drop off notes."
"my phone alarm just went off. it's your study break, right? meet me by the park, please. got you snacks."
as minghao scrolls, his mind recalls the most vivid memories from each message. the soft jokes that once only made sense to them; photos of the other's training bruises to which he always nags for being careless; and late-night check-ins sent when minghao would stubbornly pull an all-nighter.
then the one message that him in the gut every time—at the very latest in the thread:
"is it still okay if I come over? i wanted to talk to you."
the timestamp sits like a ghost in the room, and right below it in the reply window reads a draft:
"you can always come over."
he never sent it.
he doesn't even remember why he didn't. his thumb trembles a little, and something twists under his ribs.
he exits the chat too fast, accidentally opening the latest thread from seokmin. he subconsciously read the texts as well.
in a huge contrast to junhui's, seokmin's messages open to a burst of colour. interestingly, while they just met last semester, his thread's much longer than the former's—he's a ball of energy even in texts.
seokmin sent a whole thread of photos of sunsets from the music building, noting that minghao might love to paint it one day.
there are also voice notes from when seokmin feels a bit too lazy to type. all are filled with random stories about him, school, or even them three. most of them are also full of seokmin's laugh—loud and warm, like the bright sunlight that casts over minghao's hands right now by the counter.
some messages also contain random reminders and check-ins;
"have you eaten alr? made some rice balls this morning. it's in the fridge. eat before painting again."
"i just heard the lock chimed lol is that you? make sure to wear your jacket. it's cold tonight."
"guess what?! met junhui otw home!!!!!! we're getting milk tea along the way hehe your usual?"
as minghao immerses himself with the messages, he noticed that the timestamps form a steady pattern.
seokmin sends these every day. never skipping, always checking. his hand hovers over the latest one, sent just last night:
"good night, hao ~ don't stay up late."
surprisingly, his mind forms the strangest thought he'd ever had and it hits him like a tide. the two threads give him two different kinds of affection—two different pulls.
both of them, unexpectedly, makes his pulse speed up. he knows his feelings for junhui never faded, but his growing fondness of seokmin is just as strong—and neither feels wrong.
his thoughts spiral, quiet and sharp. questions filled his mind.
why do they both get to me in different ways?
why does my chest feel tight but warm for junhui, while soft for seokmin... at the same time?
why does none of this feel like i'm betraying anyone? could it be because it's just me?
no. because then, why does all this now feel right in ways that scare me?
bombarded with questions with no answers, minghao inhales a sharp one and closes his eyes.
"ugh, dr. choi shouldn't have moved our classes today. now i'm frustrated."
junhui is quick to notice minghao's growing stranger behaviour.
for three days straight, the latter leaves earlier than junhui (who often trains at dawn), then comes home past midnight. he barely eats, now barely speaks to any of the two.
it's sunday night—monday midnight, actually. minghao's back on his spot in the kitchen counter from that day. he once again went to scroll past the thread of messages in an attempt to understand himself more, but to no avail.
he sighs, set the phone down and pressed his palms over his eyes. he's aware that he had not been himself for days. he'd purposefully come home late enough that seokmin would start pacing near the door, before junhui convinces him to sleep because he's got classes the next day.
minghao also avoided any eye contact, because he knew that the moment he looks at either of them, something would tug at him in ways he wasn't ready to name.
as if the universe is joking at him, it chose this exact moment to make things worse.
footsteps. a shadow emerges in the doorway, and it's from the person he doesn't want to face right now. not when he's in this state.
"thought i'd find you here," junhui starts. he's still in his training jacket, tower around his neck, hair damp. he looked like he just finished training, "everything okay, hao?"
minghao stiffened, and his eyes widen for a split second before he goes back to his usual calm demeanor, "you're back quite late today."
"you've been avoiding... me."
junhui answered, his voice wasn't accusing—it sounds exhausted.
"did i do something?"
minghao's throat tightens. junhui's words dragged up memories he had done his best to bury.
the late-night study sessions; junhui falling asleep on minghao's shoulder; him brushing the hair from junhui's eyes like it meant something more than what they were before; their hands brushing between pages; and the soft smiles that lingered too long.
they weren't dating, they weren't casual either—they were a messy, unlabelled something that scared minghao and unbalanced junhui.
it fizzled not because they stopped wanting it, but because they never figured out what wanting it meant. and although that's the case, neither of them forgets.
"no," minghao gulps as he whispered an answer, "no, you did not."
junhui's chest tightens. he thought he moved on, that distance have already fixed him, and that liking someone once doesn't mean you'll still do after a year or two.
so, why does seeing minghao's troubled face make his heart ache again?
he takes a few steps forward, just a few meters closer to the counter where minghao is.
and that's when a soft creak echoed in the quiet dorm. junhui and minghao turn their heads almost at the same time to where the sound came from.
there they saw seokmin frozen by his room door, eyes wide like he wasn't eavesdropping. he cleared his throat before breaking the awkward silence.
"ah. i, uh— i wasn't— well, i just... have to use the bathroom... but i, well, don't feel like it anymore."
the air goes tensed. interestingly, it doesn't reek of jealousy nor anger. it's just... awkward in every direction.
junhui steps back, minghao sighs then scratches his nape as seokmin's ears turn pink.
and none of them understands why the moment feels so fragile.
among them three, seokmin has always been the cheerful one.
easy smiles, loud laughs, big gestures. people often think those actions mean he doesn't worry about a thing in his life.
and that's where they're wrong. seokmin worries a bit too much... worse, about everything.
lately, he's been off too. he doesn't know how to name the feeling that's been sitting under his ribs. it's warm, yeah, but it also makes him anxious and hopeful and afraid, all at the same time.
he likes minghao—that much he obviously knew. why would seokmin worry about him otherwise? waiting by the living room, until he falls asleep there waiting for minghao to come home.
he's also come to a conclusion that he probably likes junhui too; it wasn't in the same fluttery way (yet) but his feelings grow in a warm, grounding way that felt just as real.
after what happened the other day, he realised something.
knowing there's still tension within the two and given his feelings, he should be feeling out of place between them.
heck, he should be jealous, right?
but, no. he did not feel one bit of it. instead, he just... want all three of them to fit somehow.
"ah, this dumbass," he muttered to himself, standing up from his bed, "you don't get to want things like that, seok. no, no, no."
he grabbed a hoodie from his wardrobe and slipped out of the dorm to clear his head.
after a seemingly endless walk, he found himself at a convenience store. he picked up his go-to hot tea, some snacks he knew minghao would occasionally munch, plus the ones junhui often ate after training.
in the store mirror, he stops and stares at himself. hopefully, the clerk in charge won't find him strange.
"i... like you."
he whispers to himself while still looking in the mirror. then again he mumbles, "i like you, both of you."
he tries to smile as if practising, but it comes off as an awkward one.
he sighs then laughs to himself. he can't say it, he just can't risk doing so because he doesn't think he deserves either of them—much less both.
he pays, walks home, placed the snacks quietly on the counter... and kept the storm inside where no one could see it.
the air inside the dorm feels softer at the end of the week—quiet in a way that makes every small sound feel louder.
laundry day takes place on wednesdays, as it's the only day all three of them have no classes.
sunlight pours over the dorm's tiny balcony, the laundry lines hanging low from the weight of wet shirts.
minghao sits on the couch, half-watching a random documentary, half-waiting for his cycle to end. it's really convenient that they managed to grab a place with a washer. it mildly hums in the corner, by the bathroom.
junhui emerges from the balcony, basket under one arm, shirt tucked up on one side. seokmin trails behind, hugging a pile of half-folded clothes he did from the balcony; he holds them like it's a newborn he's scared of dropping. the two were able to finish their parts earlier than hao.
"junhui, wait up! i told you to wait for me to finish folding," seokmin calls out, voice coming out as a child whining.
the other faced him after putting the basket down near the couch.
"you did not even fold this one right," he says, already reaching for the shirt on top of seokmin's stack.
seokmin gasps as if witnessing a crime. he gently put his pile of clothes down the ottoman by his side.
"there is no right, junhui!" he grabs the shirt back, dramatically hugging it again, "there's only the natural flow of fabric."
"folding should be done in three steps."
"well, that's stupid," seokmin counters, folding the shirt again but now in the most unnatural way.
junhui can't help but face palm.
"that's a crime, seok!" he retorts.
"then arrest me, mister?"
minghao snorts before he can stop himself.
he watches the whole scene from the couch, back lazily resting against it. he's holding the tv remote, but it's barely moved as he's too caught up watching the two bicker over fabrics like divorced parents.
junhui flicks seokmin's forehead that made him yelp.
minghao's brow raised, and the corner of his mouth softens—he wasn't smiling seconds ago, but he is now.
seokmin feels the stare first. his shoulders twitch, then turns his head.
the second his eyes met minghao's, something warm leaps in his chest. it's sudden and confusing.
he let go of the shirt and took a step back. unfortunately, his foot hit the ottoman and his stack of folded (?) clothes fell scattered on the floor.
"...oh god," he whispers to himself.
junhui stares at him, baffled and amused at the same time. minghao laughs under his breath, the first real laugh they’ve heard from him in days.
later that week, an unplanned study session blooms.
the dorm living room is a maze of open books and scattered highlighters. minghao sits on the floor cross-legged, pointing a capped pen at his art history notes.
with exams coming up, he plans to review alone. well, he always reviews alone anyway.
what he didn't know is that seokmin's also planning to do the same thing. the latter popped out of his room, a bag of snacks in hand and a number of notebooks on the other.
he flopped down beside minghao, looking a bit dejected.
"i can't read music theory anymore. my brain is milk, and i still got like three whole chapters to study."
without looking, minghao slides him an extra pen, "then rewrite your notes. make it look fun."
"notes? fun?" seokmin blinks, "hao, are you okay?"
before the other could answer, junhui arrives through the front door; sweat damp in his collar, hair a mess—it's clear that he jogged back from training.
he looks at the two flopped down on the floor in a sea of notebooks.
"what's this?" he grabs the ottoman and sat on it, "a group study? and you guys didn't invite me?"
"no."
"yes."
minghao and seokmin answers two different things at the same time.
they look at each other, and then burst into laughter; not quite loud, but it's warm and familiar.
minghao shakes his head and mumbles a quick, "ugh whatever," before returning to his notes.
junhui stood up and made his way in the middle of the two.
"thought i'd join. you know, moral support."
the three of them end up in a warm cluster—their knees almost touching, elbows brushing.
minghao suddenly felt the need to look up.
he catches junhui's warm gaze watching him. sensing something, seokmin also looks at him with a soft smile.
and for a moment, the air feels right—too right—like they fit exactly where they're supposed to be.
and it scares minghao the most.
unfortunately, small peace never lasts.
not when old feelings and new ones keep brushing too close.
after the review session they had that night, the three of them went back to zero: barely interacting.
it seems though that they know something's going on, but they can't just pinpoint it.
junhui stays longer at the gym for a few nights. he's been pushing himself until his chest burns, and until he forgets why he's trying so hard to forget.
knowing him a bit too well, minghao's footsteps echoed in the venue.
catching his breath after a lap, junhui sits by a bench. he looks up and immediately spotted the other.
"you're overdoing it again," minghao says, voice loud and breath quite shaky from having run all the way there.
junhui can't deny it, so he just smiled at him.
"i'm fine."
"no, you're not," minghao snaps—still softer than anger, but sharper than worry. "you never know when to stop. even if it hurts you already."
the other froze to his seat. minghao's words hit too close.
before anything else can be said, another set of drawing footsteps rang out the gym.
"junhui!"
seokmin bursts inside the gym, chest rising and falling. he looks like he sprinted from the dorm to here.
"why didn't you answer your phone? you scared me—"
he stops in his tracks as soon as he sees minghao standing closely to junhui. the three of them fall into a tight, fragile silence.
something sharp stings under seokmin's ribs. it shouldn't hurt, but it does.
"i.. i should've known," he whispers, head dropping and started turning away.
"seok—"
"it's fine, hao," seokmin's head snaps up and smiles at the other, "you two.. have your thing. i shouldn't have interru—"
"no, stop."
minghao says, voice a bit louder than he intended to. he stands there watching seokmin freeze from his voice. junhui, who's still catching his breath, watches them in a complicated expression.
their hearts pound like crazy—all for different and the same reasons. crazy, but it is. too loud, too messy for any of them to understand.
"i never stopped waiting."
minghao blurted out. the words slip from him like a burden finally lifting from his shoulders.
junhui freezes and seokmin blinks.
the other realises, too late, what he just confessed; and the fact that it's not only to junhui, but in front of seokmin as well.
minghao gulps. he speaks again, voice comes out slower and smaller this time.
"i... never stopped waiting for you," he admits to junhui, gaze looking straight into his eyes. seokmin's brows furrow—what is he even here for... and then minghao continues.
"and then seokmin came into my life and everything got worse... or better.. or both. i'm feeling crazy."
minghao looked relieved and troubled at the same time, finally letting out all his bottled up feelings for the past weeks.
junhui's the first one to react. he stands slowly, calling out to minghao.
"hao..."
seokmin bitterly smiles before looking down at his shoes.
"so, it's me," he says quietly, not intending for the two to hear.. but it's too quiet for it to be a whisper, "i'm the one who shouldn't be here."
junhui's eyes widen and lands straight on seokmin. minghao was also quick to snap his head towards seokmin and take a step toward him in a rush.
"n-no, seok. don't say that. that's not what i meant."
"then what? what did you mean?" seokmin asks.
junhui can't help but follow, "are you not... choosing me?"
minghao feels the world tilt. the burden lifted from here earlier seems back and is doubled this time. his throat tightens.
he looks at the two.
"it sounds... selfish, but don't want to lose either of you," he whispers but it's loud enough for the two to here, "yet why does it feel like i'm losing both of you right now?"
minghao's voice was filled with pain and confusion.
silence envelopes the three of them.
no anger, no jealousy, just... fear. and it's shared among all three of them.
no one knew how they ended up walking home together after that mind-boggling gym encounter.
they returned to the dorm almost dawn, and no one spoke a word. the air's thick—fragile.
it's minghao who sits by the cold living room floor, back resting by the couch. he closes his eyes, probably regretting whatever he's mentioned earlier.
hesitant at first, but seokmin was also quick to join him after a moment.
junhui goes straight to the kitchen counter. a loud sigh from him echoes the room as he grabs three cups of water.
he eventually joins the two, putting down the water on the coffee table before sinking down by the ottoman.
the dorm's pretty dark except for the faint glow of streetlamp that the kitchen window catches.
after god knows how long, the sky shifts.
soft gold slowly bleeds into the room. it's the sunrise.
warmth envelopes the dorm, but none of them move. they seem wary of each other's movements, though.
finally, minghao breaks the quiet. his voice small, honest.
"i tried to heal myself by choosing one of you," he whispers, "and i only hurt me, us."
junhui's fists clench from minghao's honesty. seokmin's breath hitched.
"i felt so confused, because the longer i try to figure myself, the harder it is to understand. i really tried," minghao looks at the two with so much pain in his eyes, "but choosing one of you felt like tearing my heart apart. when i decided i'd just ignore it, i only hurt more."
junhui cleared his throat, making the other two look at him. he rubs his thumb over his palm as if grounding himself.
"you know what, me too," he admits, "i kept fighting it. i kept saying i moved on from you, hao. i believed myself for a while—why would i agree to live with you if not, yeah?" he scoffs before looking at seokmin with sincerity.
"and i don't know when it started, but i felt like i've been drawn for seok as well. you're... you're a sunshine. has anyone told you that?"
seokmin's eyes widen as he takes in junhui's words. he quickly glances at hao—he's the only other one who describes him as a sunshine.
junhui continues, "i didn't think it was allowed. won't i be unfair to the other? i don't know. am i even allowed to feel these?"
seokmin chokes out a tiny laugh. seems the two shares the same worries he's been keeping the past few weeks. it's insanely unbelievable.
"i was scared," he mumbles with eyes glistening, "wanting something that didn't even make sense. you guys think it's only you who's been troubled? for weeks, all i thought of wanting both of you was me being selfish, or stupid, or naive."
seokmin swallows hard to stop his tears from falling before continuing.
"i don't know how to say love yet—i'm bad at it. i mess it up. but i... feel it with you both, in ways that make me want to learn more."
seokmin was surprised to see junhui stood up and sat beside him. he nudges seok's shoulder gently.
minghao, with a smile on his face, scoots over the other side.
seokmin was startled; they seem like holding him without touching—providing comfort and support.
"...then," minghao exhales softly, "maybe we don't have to name it yet."
junhui nods.
"let'f figure it out together. slowly."
his eyes soften, leaning his head gently on seokmin's shoulder. minghao does the same.
seokmin's lip trembles and none of them say a word.
the sun continue to rise, spilling gold over the three of them who found solace even on the coldest floor.
nothing's defined yet, but nothing's also forced.
it's just three hearts no longer pretending.
for the first time in weeks, the restless yearning finally quiets.
and in the soft glow of morning, their hearts beat in the same rhythm.