Work Text:
"Hyung, wait!"
Choi Minho slowed only slightly, just enough to glance over his shoulder. Sweat clung to his temples, and his breathing was steady, annoyingly steady. Kibun told him many times how the fire in his eyes even when he was doing nothing was annoying – Minho was competitive even without trying to.
Lee Minho never knew he could find someone as intense as he was about exercising. Sure, Chan and Changbin hit the gym quite often– Chan even went as far as practicing boxing just like Minho did, but still. It was Minho who made a bet with his friends about exercising like a madman until the end of the year (and he was winning it, obviously!), and he treated it like a sacred mission.
“You didn’t warm up properly! That’s why you’re dying.”
So to befriend Choi Minho was not a goal in any bingo card he had for his life.
“I did warm up!” Minho argued between breaths. “You just sprinted out of nowhere!”
Choi finally stopped near a lamppost, rolling his shoulders as he waited. Lee stumbled up to him, hands on his knees, gasping for air. It’s been a while since he last felt like working out was too much for him, maybe when he started to exercise a few years ago?
Or maybe Choi Minho was a machine after all.
“That wasn’t a sprint. That was light cardio.” Choi said as he stretched his calves against the curb.
Minho made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a wheeze. “Light cardio for you is attempted murder for normal humans.”
“Hush now, that’s what Kibum says to me.”
“I think Seungmin would say the same, actually.” Choi only laughed at him, then tossed him a water bottle. Lee caught it badly but then took a long gulp, letting the cold water dribble down his chin. “It’s been a while since I last exercised, go easy on me.”
“Oh, right!” Choi said suddenly, taking back the water bottle to twist the cap closed. “Seungmin arrives in a few days, right?”
One day that damn company was going to hear the worst of curses from Lee Minho– Japan was his and Seungmin’s place, theirs! Whenever they needed to hide from the world or escape from everyday life. How dare they send his husband there for their so-called business? Moreso, right before winter break? Him and Seungmin should be planning for the holidays with their families and friends, making Santa hats for SoonDoonDo and resting together under a warm blanket. Definitely not working.
His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to grab his phone and text Seungmin again, even though the man was probably still mid-reunion with the company staff. He didn’t know.
“What time is it now?” Minho asked, forcing his voice to sound casual.
Choi checked the watch on his wrist. “5pm now.”
Minho hoped the delight wasn’t obvious on his face. For the first time in months, he didn’t have to keep a second clock on his phone to match whatever timezone Seungmin had traveled to. Seoul and almost every japanese city had the same timezone, which felt like a blessing.
He knew Seungmin was in Fukuoka, but even if it was Tokyo, Nagoya, Sapporo– it didn't matter. Same timezone.
“We have about an hour left before I have to go home and call Seungmin.” Lee said, stretching and doing another small round of warm-ups before they eased back into a lighter running pace. The sun was starting to set, painting the park in shades of gold. “Kibum-ssi is coming for your birthday? It's in a few days too, right?”
Choi scoffed before he could stop himself.
“As if he could. He’s still in Texas. The company isn’t giving anyone a break until Christmas Eve.” Lee raised a brow at him. “Seungmin is in a different division from Kibum, right? And they’re different functions too. Since Kibum is a senior, they expect him in every important meeting they can gather.”
Lee winced sympathetically. “That sucks.”
“It does,” Minho agreed. “He wanted to come, but there’s no way he can fly back in time. He barely has weekends off.”
The silence followed after. Both felt uncharacteristically quiet.
“You miss him a lot.”
Choi swallowed, scoffing through a breath in their run. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I do.”
Lee could understand him. Choi already told him a couple of times how birthdays were important to him, since he got to spend time with his family and both his parents showered him with love and care; it was a bit sad that his birthday was right at the end of the year. That’s why they spent more time together than usual, and Kibum was a very present character too.
He didn't know if they had already spent a birthday apart before. Even if they did, it seems like a sensitive topic to Choi. Minho decides to not dwell on it any further to not make the oldest any more upset. “Let’s finish this session, yeah?”
“Yeah… yeah, okay.”
Minho showers in record time, just enough to wash the grime from exercising all afternoon off his body. He's anxious to leave early and pick Seungmin up from the airport. The last time they were together was back on Minho's birthday in October, so spending a whole month away from his boyfriend was pure torture. Minho missed him like a Victorian lady sending her husband off to war— though he would never admit that to anyone.
“Seungmin and I are closer to signing the divorce papers than it seems. Don’t be fooled.” he tells their friends whenever they point out the lack of skinship whenever they’re out together.
Everyone laughs, and especially Seungmin– only he knows how clingy Minho is in the safety of their home, whining in annoyance when Seungmin wakes earlier than him and leaves him with a cold spot on the bed.
Seungmin will laugh when being attacked by a grumpy Minho later in the kitchen, octopus arms around his lithe frame while he tries to move around and prepare coffee for both of them.
“I don't even drink it anymore, stop,” Minho whines with his face buried in Seungmin’s broad back, eyes shut as he tries to catch a bit of sleep even while standing.
“Oh?” Seungmin turns in his embrace, cupping Minho’s face with one hand and stroking his messy bed hair with the other. Minho blinks sleepily at him. “I thought you couldn’t live without coffee?”
“If it isn’t your coffee, I don’t want it.”
Minho is a severe case of a manchild, but Seungmin loves him all the same.
That’s what sends his heart into a wreck when he spots his hyung waiting for him outside the arrival gate, looking around and bouncing his leg impatiently. Minho’s stern expression softens immediately when he sees him.
Seungmin slightly towers over Minho when they hug, but the grip Minho has around his waist is just as overpowering. They both soak in the other’s affection before they can finally head home and be all over each other like they’ve been longing to be.
“I'm suing your boss if he sends you to Japan again,” Minho whispers, face tucked into Seungmin’s neck. The youngest laughs, still smirking when he pulls away from the hug to look at Minho’s flushed face.
“I hope you do, hyung.”
Minho laces their fingers together the moment they start walking, as if afraid Seungmin might slip away again. They weave through the airport crowd, and Seungmin notices Minho glancing at his suitcase like he wants to snatch it out of his hand, but is pretending not to.
“You can carry it if you want.” Seungmin teases.
“You could always ask if you don't want to, Kim Seungmin.” Minho lies immediately, taking the suitcase in his left hand in the biggest display of pride known to humankind. Seungmin laughs as Minho’s ears grow red.
They step out into the parking garage, breaths puffing faintly in the cold.
“You parked like this on purpose, didn’t you?” Seungmin asks, tilting his head at the car parked crookedly.
“I was in a hurry,” Minho mutters, unlocking the car and shoving Seungmin’s suitcase on the backseat. “Someone said he’d be arriving at nine, and it was already nine-oh-four when I got here.”
“So dramatic.”
“Shut up and get in.”
Minho starts the engine, blasting warm air into the car.
“How was the trip? Did you eat well? Did your boss make you cry again? If he did, I know where to dispose his body.”
“Hyung!” Seungmin exclaims, startled. “It was fine, really. I couldn’t even leave my hotel room because we had a lot of online meetings, so I spent most days inside. Wouldn’t want to stroll around without you anyways.”
“Wise choice, Kim Seungmin.”
A soft tapping against the windshield interrupts Seungmin's next banter. He looks at the window just in time to see the first delicate flakes drift down, illuminated like tiny sparks under the garage lights.
“It’s snowing.” Seungmin murmurs.
The snow falls slowly, lazily, melting as soon as it touches the glass. Minho leans back in his seat, finally turning to really look at Seungmin, noticing his travel-tired eyes.
He's so pretty even like this. Minho needs him on their bed as soon as possible, wearing his basketball shorts and one of Minho's oversized shirts, surrounded by three cats and tucked in Minho's arms. Maybe this time Minho will left his stupid dog plushie get in between them, but he can't make promises.
Minho only makes it halfway down the ramp toward the street before the snow shifts from gentle flurries to heavy, sudden clusters, fat flakes thudding softly against the windshield.
Seungmin leans forward, squinting through the white blur. “Hyung, maybe slow down?”
“I am slow.”
Outside, the snow thickens in real time, curtains of white falling so fast the city seems to vanish behind it. Minho clicks his tongue in irritation, gripping the wheel too tightly.
After another few meters, visibility drops to almost nothing.
“Okay, no. We should wait.”
Minho mutters a curse under his breath which Seungmin reprimands him (“language, hyung”) then pulls into a spot just under a flickering streetlight.
"A month,” Minho grumbles, killing the engine but leaving the heating on. “I didn’t see you for a month, and the universe decides to mess with me now.”
Seungmin smiles softly. “Don’t be selfish. We're still together.”
“It’s not the same.” Minho sulks.
Seungmin shifts closer, turning in his seat so he faces him fully. Minho refuses to look at him out of principle, staring straight ahead like he could possibly will the snow to stop falling with only the irritation in his eyes.
“The japanese team there is sweet, but strict. I ate so many convenience store meals I might actually turn into a rice ball.” Seungmin starts talking to distract Minho from his sulky state. “And there was this café near the hotel that sold the best matcha cake I’ve ever had.”
“You ate matcha cake without me?” Minho asks, scandalized.
“I can go back in spring and take you—”
“No.” Minho leans closer. “Only if I go with you.”
Seungmin can’t hide the tiny blush at that. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I’d like that.”
A brief silence settles between them, broken only by the soft hum of the heater and the muffled sound of snow pattering against the roof.
Then Minho shifts, clearing his throat with exaggerated nonchalance.
“So… Can I hug you now, or are you too jetlagged?”
Seungmin snorts. “You know I didn’t cross any timezone this time.”
Minho takes that as permission to lean over and wrap himself around Seungmin’s middle, practically dragging Seungmin into his lap. The youngest laughs into his hair, arms coming around him instinctively.
Outside, the snow keeps falling in thick waves, but with his big noodle of a boyfriend on his lap, Minho thinks everything is warm.
Seungmin murmurs into his chest, voice sleepy. “Wake me up when we can drive.”
“You’re not sleeping on me. You left me alone for a whole month.” Minho replies immediately.
Seungmin just tightens his hold, resting his chin on Minho’s chest.
“Hyuuung.”
“Only five minutes.”
“Ten minutes.”
“... We'll see it.”
The snow keeps thickening in the streetlight’s glow, but neither of them mind anymore. They can wait.
“I can see your pouting from a mile, hell even Kibum hyung must see it from across the globe.”
It's Taemin who scolds Minho for his behavior. He’s sure there’s nothing wrong until the youngest points it out with a disgusted look on his face.
“Yah, what are you talking about?” Minho snaps. “I'm not pouting.”
“Yeah, far from it, actually,” Taemin retorts sarcastically. “Only sulking like a child being denied their favorite candy.”
“I'm not–”
“Taemin, leave him,” Jonghyun who cuts him with a sharp look. “Just because you’re single it doesn’t mean you can be mean to everyone else.”
“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”
“We’re not all thinking that.”
Minho huffs and looks away, pretending to be engrossed with the beer in front of him. His birthday dinner with his friends and hisnfamily should be fun. And he is happy, but he misses his husband.
The last call he and Kibum had earlier helped a little, cursing the “old hags” (as Kibum called them) he was meeting to convince to invest in a branch office or whatever. Minho didn’t exactly understand, he was only happy to hear Kibum's voice, even the virtual version of it.
Still, Minho missed having him here, hovering, nagging, laughing, stealing bites of his food and denying it.
Suddenly, a warm hand lands on Minho’s shoulder. Jinki smiles gently at him from the seat beside him.
“He’ll call once he wakes up over there.”
Minho sighs. “I know. It’s just… a weird birthday without him.”
Taemin, now a little less annoyed, nudges Minho’s knee under the table.
“He’ll make it up to you. Probably with something disgustingly romantic and expensive. Like a Gucci bag or something like that. Hyung’s a man of his word.”
That earns a small smile out of Minho at least.
Jinki brightens. “There it is. See? Much better than the sulking.”
“I wasn’t sulking!” Minho mutters one last time, though everyone at the table laughs because he absolutely was.
Before he can argue further, his parents arrive with more dishes, his mother kissing both his cheeks with affection and his father gives him a tight hug.
By the time the clock strikes midnight, they’ve finished eating, and Minho’s mom insists they all stand so she can pray properly. She rests a hand on Minho’s shoulder, her voice soft but steady as she blesses him for another year, thanks the boys for being his second family, and wishes health and happiness upon them all.
He only hears from Kibum again by early afternoon.
kibummie
Happy birthday, my love.
I’ll call you later. Promise.
Minho had stared at the message longer than necessary, rereading it. Kibum was rushing between meetings, navigating a packed schedule for the company project he’d been flown out to handle. Minho understood, of course he did, but understanding didn’t make the day feel any less strange.
choi annoying minho
Ok. Thanks.
He hits send and immediately regrets how blunt it sounds, but he doesn’t take it back. He just puts the phone face-down and forces himself to continue getting ready for the small family lunch planned for later.
Much later when Kibum finally calls him, Minho pretends he didn’t desperately sprint across the apartment to grab his phone before the first ring even ended.
He clears his throat and answers with what he hopes is calm.
“Hello?”
Kibum doesn’t even try to hide his amusement.
“Don’t tell me you’re sulking, Choi Minho.”
“Why would I?” Minho asks (and not successfully) trying to sound unaffected.
Kibum’s soft laughter filters through the speaker and Minho feels the tension in his shoulders loosen. Kibum’s always been good at reading him and this time is no different.
“We should divorce soon or later if you keep up with it…”
“Do as you wish, Kibum.” Minho is not falling for his baits either.
He knows this is Kibum’s attempt at a joke and ease his feelings, but Minho's resolute to keep his tone.
“I’m sorry,” Kibum murmurs, voice dipping into something gentler. “I tried to escape those mummies for even one minute to call you as soon as my alarm went off, but they wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“You could’ve called when it ended.”
“You were already sleeping, Minho. It’s fifteen hours of difference in time.”
“Still… I wanted to hear your voice. But you didn’t forget,” Minho says. “That’s enough.”
“Of course I didn’t forget!” Kibum huffs. “I set three alarms. One for your midnight, one for my morning, and a third one in case the universe decided to play with the clock again.”
Minho smiles despite himself. “That sounds like you.”
“Exactly. So stop pretending you’re not disappointed. I can hear it in your voice.”
Minho closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. He doesn’t deny it this time.
“Sorry. I promise it's not serious. I'm just kind of pissed off with this job of yours that won’t let you be with me for too long.”
“Ay, now you sound too sappy.”
“Oh please, you love it.”
“Whatever you say, Minho.”
“And I wasn’t sulking! I gave you a normal answer!”
Kibum laughs again, louder this time.
“Do you hear yourself? You texted me like I just gave you an appointment at the doctor.”
“It wasn't!” Minho softens immediately, the ache in his chest settling. “I miss you,” he says quietly, the words slipping out before he thinks too hard about them. “A lot.”
On the other end of the line, Kibum goes still for a moment.
“…I miss you too, Minho. More than I want to, honestly.”
“Then come home faster.”
“I’m trying!” Kibum squeaks. “This deal is almost done. Two more weeks. Maybe three if the old men here keep arguing about the color the building should or not be.”
“Jesus Christ.” Minho frowns.
“You have no idea what I go through. I deserve a raise!" Kibum deadáns.“I’ll make it up to you. When I get back, we'll have more time, I promise. I'll take you, CommeDes and Garçons on a walk.”
“I'm not your puppy Kibum, I'm literally your husband.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever you say.” Kibum’s smile is audible. “I should go before you get sappy again and I start crying in this stupid hotel room. Happy birthday again, Minho.”
Minho feels his chest loosen, the weight lifting just enough to let him breathe fully.
“Thank you, Kibummie. Come back soon.”