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“Minho.”
Feeling a hand snag his wrist, Minho paused, looking at the person who’d just spoken.
It was Gally.
Raising an eyebrow, Minho turned to face him, shaking Gally’s firm hand off of him, “Gally?”
Gally pointed to the ceiling above Minho, a smile— tainted by alcohol— plastered on his face, “What’s the rule again?” Minho reluctantly followed Gally’s finger with his eyes, already knowing what the hell was about to happen. Gally’s eyelids drooped and his voice went low, “I fear I’ve caught you underneath the mistletoe.”
“Okay,” Minho smirked, sighing through his nose, “so?”
Pupils dilated abnormally wide, Gally quietly laughed, “Mind if I..?” His arm snaked around Minho’s waist, pulling him close. He lifted his other hand, fingers brushing against Minho’s jaw.
Minho should’ve cared. Should’ve pushed him away and left right there.. but he didn’t. Had he had too much to drink? Possibly. Likely, even. He didn’t care, though. With a hushed chuckle, Minho melted in to the touch, “No, not at all.”
Humming, Gally turned his head to the side slightly, nearing Minho’s mouth. “Merry Christmas.” was the last thing he murmured before moving towards Minho again. Their lips met in the wild haze of the party— slow and gentle compared to the chaos that was spiralling around them. Minho pushed himself closer to Gally, putting his hands firmly on Gally’s waist.
He felt Gally smile against him and closed his eyes, letting them slip away from the noise. His back was pressed against a wall, somewhere quieter, in a matter of seconds. He walked his fingers up Gally’s sides, and gasped for air when they parted. He didn’t allow Gally time to breathe, however, and was on him again instantly.
Gally’s hands started to shake and he laughed, coming to his senses and finding Minho’s hands in his hair.
They should’ve really stopped before it got this far, but it felt too good. Minho had no idea why they hadn’t done this before.
Just as they established a rhythm, someone appeared nearby. Gally flinched, parting with Minho quickly, meanwhile it took Minho a few moments to snap out of his trance.
The person was Thomas. Yet, he didn’t see them. Gally sighed with amusement as he watched the guy stumble away, definitely pissed. “He’s gonna be so hungover tomorrow.” Gally whispered.
Minho, meanwhile, was looking around to see where they were. They’d left the main building— Vince’s community hall, and were stood on the large porch outside. He was leant against the outside wall, unsanded wood prickling his back through his shirt. He raised an eyebrow at Gally, “This isn’t exactly private.”
“We don’t need privacy.” Gally’s confusion dissipated quickly and he smirked at Minho, “Unless..?”
Minho grabbed his arm with haste, laughing in disbelief, “C’mon, then!”
The glass fell from his hand, shattering by his feet. He didn’t even notice the pain it brought him, too distracted.
A few metres ahead were two silhouettes in the same spot he had been last year.
He almost threw up in his mouth.
Gally was there, Minho could recognise him anywhere. Since their.. meeting today last year, they’d been getting closer and closer and—
Well, Minho had been planning to ask him out this very evening.
His dreams came crashing down in the blink of an eye.
Gaze squinting past layers upon layers of dancing people, Minho saw them. Gally grinning. Brenda looking up at him with delighted eyes.
She grabbed his face.
Someone stepped in front of the scene, blocking them from Minho’s view. That didn’t matter anyways, because he had already turned away, running towards the building’s exit. Both Harriet and Jorge tried to stop him as he passed them, confused, but he paid them no attention.
He didn’t stop running until he was well and truly lost in the night. There were trees, a faded pathway, and the ever present cold of December whirling around him. Falling to his knees, Minho let out a sob, teeth grating together. The first thing he did was check his ankle, which was burning in pain.
Great, blood. He’d definitely left a trail for someone to find him, which was not what he wanted at all. But that had to wait, as there were more pressing things on his mind.
Gally.
The fucking bastard.
Had Minho been fooled by him for twelve entire months? Each kiss they shared after that night, every late conversation, every small gift and laugh— it was nothing all along?
“Fuck.” Minho let out a shaky breath, sitting on the floor and staring at his damaged leg.
He hated him.
He hated him so much.
And he wanted to hate Brenda too, but how was she supposed to know? They’d kept in the shadows, surrounded by secret. But maybe Gally wanted that. Minho hadn’t. He didn’t care if people saw them. He loved Gally. That’s why he had been planning on asking him to he official, so they wouldn’t need to hide anymore.
He felt humiliated.
But just.. god. He was fully aware what Brenda was tasting now. Mint and orange, which strangely worked well together. Minho knew exactly how Gally tasted, and he knew it better than the back of his own hand.
“I hope he has fun.” Muttering, Minho got to his feet, tears dried out, leg starting to throb.
With a heavy limp, he progressed further in to the forest.