Work Text:
The familiar rhythm of the drums resonated through the small space of the practice room, as a guitar Jungmo knew too well as it was his own, in the hands of the slightly taller than himself boy, picked up its own melody just a few counts later. Through the small window, the sun’s rays fell onto the instruments rather mesmerisingly, and just as Jungmo had thought of it, the boy sitting beside him, Hyeongjun, was heard fiddling with the camera, complaining momentarily of the string attached to it.
Hearing the shutter of photos being taken, Jungmo finds himself wondering if any of them would be of the very boy his eyes are currently on: blonde hair, long enough to be put in a small ponytail, the strands that are still too short to do that framing his face, a faint outline of freckles shining under the natural light of the evening. Minhee, in Jungmo’s humble opinion, looked stunning.
Though stunning was too big of a word. Honestly, Jungmo would probably find any word in the dictionary that people might use to describe one’s beauty too big. Minhee’s tall, there’s no doubt in that, being younger by two years yet a few centimetres over Jungmo, the younger boy was still simply tiny.
The way he would fold himself on the small couch in one of their friends’ apartment just to take a five minutes at most nap, the way his dahlia dimples appear whenever he giggles at something entirely too small, or the, perhaps insignificant to others yet very important to Jungmo, way Minhee furrows his brows involuntarily as he gets the annoying fringe out of his sight, his cheeks puffing out slightly.
To put it frankly, Jungmo thought that the word beautiful was good enough to describe Minhee. For now.
“Hey, do you think I got all the cords right, this time?” As they say, speak of the devil (although Minhee was more likely to be an angel); a sheepish yet straightforward question brings Jungmo back to reality, as he realises the song was already over. “I feel like I keep messing up in the very beginning.”
Jungmo smiles. “You’re doing great, Minhee,” he says, genuinely. He means it; for someone who has always been playing on the keyboard, Minhee was doing fantastic with taking the challenge of leading the guitar part alongside Taeyoung in one of their upcoming performances. “I’m sure with practise you’ll do even more amazing.”
“Thanks,” it’s a small, barely audible puff of an air. Minhee’s eyes wander around before they settle on nothing particular on Jungmo's face, one of his hands caressing the other lightly. He looked almost bashful, if the vibrant rosy shade of his cheeks was telling Jungmo anything. “Wonjin is going to dinner with Seongmin, tonight, so I'm free from his Japanese lessons. For now,” he chuckles.
Jungmo nods, humming. He’s heard Seongmin mentioning it in the passing, and Wonjin has been extra blabbing through the whole practice, so everybody could piece it together that he and the youngest of their small group were going out. Obviously they were. “These lovebirds.. Can you believe that Wonjin is actually gonna confess? Crazy words.” Jungmo shakes his head as he lets himself sneak a glance at the drummer: busy talking to Woobin, one of their vocalists, hands gesturing animatedly.
Minhee only laughed, a small outburst of joy and amusement at the words, yawning afterwards. The sun is almost set by now, leaving just a slight golden shade on the walls, and given how relatively loud the band practices are, Jungmo supposed Minhee was tired. Probably drained with how he practically melts as he’s gotten on Jungmo's lap, somehow managing to make himself look smaller than he actually is, his feet resting on Hyeongjun's lap.
It’s quiet for a few moments. Well, as quiet as it could be with four other guys in the small room, but Jungmo didn't mind. He preferred people watching, though— there's a lot you can get from that. For example, currently Woobin was looking at Wonjin incredulous as the latter boy explained something, Taeyoung snorting besides them as he’d unplugged his and Minhee’s own guitar. By Jungmo’s side, Hyeongjun was browsing through his phone absentmindedly, groaning at the seemingly slow speed of everyone packing their things. And lastly, in his arms was Minhee: eyelids so heavy he was barely keeping them from closing completely, arms folded lazily over his stomach, and under them were Jungmo’s own, wrapped around the younger’s waist in a so-called hug.
After a while, Jungmo let himself tune all the conversations around out and look at Minhee for a little more. It wouldn't hurt anyone, would it? Nonetheless, the boy is too sleepy to even notice Jungmo nearly staring at him. Jungmo lets his eyes dart over the younger boy’s brows, even now slightly furrowed; Jungmo tries to resist the urge to ease the crease with his thumb, scared to ruin the moment, so he stays still. His eyes then dart over to Minhee’s small nose, the curve between it and his slightly parted lips, small breaths coming out steadily as his chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, somewhat opposite to Jungmo’s own, strangely racing one.
Jungmo hopes Minhee doesn't mind. The way his arms tighten just briefly around the younger, hopes he doesn't mind the way he swings his own body back and forth. It feels almost silly, maybe too intimate of a moment, considering the possibility of eight other eyes in the room falling all at once at the two boys almost cuddling on the small couch. Albeit, it seems like neither of them mind it, more so, Hyeongjun’s own hand that isn't occupied with his phone goes to rest on Minhee’s ankle, patting it mindlessly. Jungmo had nearly missed it, but there was a small, soft smile on Taeyoung’s face as he glanced at the two, before he turned the other way.
Apparently, Jungmo was too invested in his Minhee’s beauty appreciation time, unaware of the grin spread across his face, that he doesn't notice how both Woobin and Wonjin were gone now, Hyeongjun still on his phone, as Taeyoung cleared his throat, loud enough to startle Jungmo, yet Minhee remained unmoved.
“I’m sorry to interrupt whatever you two are doing, but the sun is set and we need to get home, like, now.” Taeyoung explains, and maybe Jungmo was reading too much into it, but the guitarist seemed almost apologetic. “So we don't have to wait for the next bus,” he adds in a weak explanation.
“Dunno, I like it here. Do you think Ruby-hyung will let me buy a couch like this?” Hyeongjun mumbles, looking at Taeyoung with his eyes widened, a pout on his face as the latter sighs unimpressed.
“Minhee, you gotta get up. Your bed is waiting for you and Serim-hyung has already ordered us dinner,” Taeyoung whines, checking his phone.
“Mmhmm..” Minhee grumbled, only sinking more into Jungmo’s lap. “I’m too lazy.”
Jungmo can't help, but chuckle. When Minhee is tired, he gets extremely stubborn. It’s cute, he’s like a big, very clingy puppy who’s forced to go outside and play. Jungmo hummed to himself; maybe sometimes Minhee was representing a cat more. “Come on, you’re practically falling asleep. Don't disturb your precious activity and go home with Taeyoungie.”
Somehow this worked, and with a way too dramatic sigh, Minhee actually managed to get up, accepting his jacket from Taeyoung’s hands as the four of them made their way out of the room.
“Are you thinking blue or pink?” Minhee hums, chewing on the straw as he sits cross-legged across the kitchen island, sipping on a strawberry smoothie.
“For what?” Jungmo asks, confused, eyes not leaving the screen of the laptop in front of him as he types, and types, and—
“Hair ties.” Minhee deadpans like it's the simplest thing that everyone knows. “Seongmin and Allen are going shopping tomorrow, and they asked if I needed anything. I honestly don't, because Serim buys everything, anyways, but you know,”
“Minhee.”
“Right. Seongmin suggested I’d try hair ties in colours other than black, and I thought, why not? So I’m asking you, blue or pink?”
“I’d say blue. It goes well with the type of blonde you have and less likely to blend with it. Plus, isn't your favourite colour blue?” Jungmo finally looked up, a simple smile on his lips as he blinked at the younger boy’s thinking face. “Just buy both. You lose them often, anyways.”
“Rude.”
“I’m just saying facts!” Jungmo defends, though lets himself giggle as his history essay goes forgotten. “Is Seongmin coming to the practice, today?” He asks, suddenly aware of the fact that they still need to review one of the songs, the one Wonjin is planning to confess to the younger with.
Minhee seems to consider the question for a moment before shrugging. “Ask him,” he ends up replying, gesturing vaguely behind Jungmo. For a second, Jungmo is confused, but soon enough remembers that he lives with Seongmin, as a low grumble is heard before the younger appears in the kitchen, hair disheveled from sleep as he rubs on his eyes.
“Is there anything to eat in this house?”
Jungmo shrugs, forcing himself not to laugh at the smaller boy’s appearance. He wouldn't laugh at Seongmin in a bad way, anyways, it’s just the way Seongmin looked adorable whenever he was grumpy. “I think there’s cereals still left in the drawer, but we might be out of milk.” He replies, trying to be helpful.
Minhee’s snort gets ignored as Seongmin sighs, letting himself melt on the chair beside Minhee. “Did Wonjin sleep here?” The latter asks after a while, looking at Seongmin curious as the younger nods.
“He’s an idiot, though,” Seongmin sighs. There’s a barely present smile on his lips, though, but Jungmo chooses to not comment on it. “Why would he go out with me after hours of studying and practising! He was practically falling over me when we were in the elevator. He didn't even shower.”
A ray of ‘ew’s resonated through the kitchen, before the three of them burst into laughing. “Yeah, sounds like Wonjin.” Jungmo says through giggles. “Hey, Seongmin.” He calls out a few moments later, the younger hums. “Minhee told me that y’all are going shopping later?”
“Yeah? You can go with us, Minhee’s too much of a lazy ass to do so.”
Minhee was once again ignored as he whined. (Don't get them wrong, they loved Minhee, the guy is just very, very whiny.)
Jungmo shakes his head, “No, sorry, I have assignments to write. We’ll meet on practice today, though, hmm?”
“Oh, yeah,” Seongmin’s eyes widen for a brief second. “I mean, if Wonjin could make it there. Do not let him have more than one cup of espresso, I would rather deal with sleepy-grumpy Wonjin than high-on-caffeine Wonjin.”
The two other boys agree and the room falls silent again, just the sound of Seongmin eating and Minhee slurping on his drink occasionally resonate through the space, but Jungmo once again doesn't mind it. More so, he thinks it's the perfect opportunity to let himself admire Minhee just a bit more.
It's a rare occasion today: the younger boy is wearing his hair down instead of a ponytail or an attempt at the right use of a hair band (is there even one?) and the sight is just— pretty. Jungmo doesn't think he can choose whether he likes the sway of Minhee’s ponytail and the framing pieces, or the way his hair falls down his neck and over his ears more. Jungmo finds himself wondering if the younger boy has brushed his hair. Maybe in the morning, before coming over to Allen, Seongmin and Jungmo’s house, maybe it’s in his routine, like it is to brush his teeth for an unreasonably long amount of time.
It's once again a silly thought, but Jungmo finds himself wondering if he’s right. Wondering if they lived together, would Minhee let the elder brush his hair for him? The younger doesn't really like when anyone touches his hair, only really letting Seongmin braid it once in a while, or when Jungmo occasionally puts a strand of it behind his ear for him when he eats. Jungmo wonders if Minhee would feel comfortable enough with him to do that. To let Jungmo see his bed hair every morning, to witness the sleep creases on his face fade away as they’d share leftovers for breakfast.
“Can I brush your hair?” Jungmo doesn't mean to let it slip past his lips, isn't sure he should have as both Minhee and Seongmin look at him rather surprised.
“I mean, sure..? Why not, do you have a brush?” Minhee looks at Seongmin, the younger nods as he goes to find the aforementioned object. “Why so sudden, though?” Minhee’s voice is suddenly smaller, almost inaudible as he looks somewhat bashful, chewing on his lower lip.
Jungmo clears his throat, suddenly feeling the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. “We were just.. Talking about hair earlier, so I— I thought..?” Jungmo frowned at himself, at the way the words seemed to disappear all at once, and partly, at the way Minhee chuckles, low and light, just like the sun warming the side of his face. Jungmo tilts his head, “What?”
“You’re silly, Jungmo,” shrugs Minhee, cutting himself off as Seongmin came back with a brush Jungmo might have never seen before, but it surely looks like something the younger would own. “Go ahead. I haven't brushed it today, yet.”
So Jungmo was wrong. Maybe. The image of sleepy Minhee brushing his own hair mindlessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub was too nice for Jungmo to forget it so soon. Plus, maybe Minhee just forgot about it exactly today? Maybe the stars aligned the way they did just so Jungmo’s excuse would be more of a reason than a weak attempt to be close to the younger.
Ignoring the amused snort coming from Seongmin, who’s too busy with keeping his eyes more than halfway opened, Jungmo gets up, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the brush shakily as he stepped behind Minhee; and suddenly, it was too difficult to breathe.
It’s not like Jungmo has never brushed anyone’s hair before, more so, he’s sure he’s done that to Minhee as well, just with his fingers and in the middle of meaningless conversations. This, now, on the other hand, was meaningful. Just to Jungmo or to whatever it is between him and Minhee, Jungmo couldn't really tell as he inhaled deeply, reminding himself how to move as he brushed the younger boy's hair lightly.
And again, perhaps Jungmo was reading too much into it, he’s been noticing himself doing so a lot more, lately, but in the mere of just a few seconds, he swore, Minhee tensed up all together and just as momentarily, almost melted at the touch. It’s like his body got the message from his brain that it’s just Jungmo, that it's safe and maybe even good.
The room suddenly felt too quiet, the silence pressing on Jungmo’s chest as he’d brushed Minhee’s blonde hair, untangling the small knots that have seemingly formed whilst the boy was sleeping. Jungmo smiled to himself— it was almost the ounce of his thoughts from before that he could allow himself to experience. It almost, once again, felt too intimate; another type of intimacy, though— this one almost too soft.
Jungmo felt as though Minhee's let him see just a bit more of himself, and to Jungmo, it was all too beautiful, so human. “Do you generally not brush your hair, or did you just happen to forget today?” Jungmo finds himself asking jokingly, words wavering with something like a mix of fear and disappointment. He didn't want to ruin the moment, but it was all too overwhelming.
Minhee's chuckle comes out just a beat too late, though Jungmo doesn't comment on it. Maybe it too, is a bit too much for Minhee, to be that vulnerable. “Wouldn't you like to know?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe he did it on purpose, so you’d notice and ask to brush his hair.” The three heads turn synchronously to the other boy coming out of the room Seongmin had come out of just some time ago. “What? You never know,” the boy, Wonjin, shrugged, looking no better than the youngest. Jungmo thinks back on Seongmin's words, and eyes Wonjin as he goes to the coffee machine like it’s his own.
“Somehow, I think that nobody including Seongmin will be really surprised at Wonjin’s song confession thing,” Minhee sighs from where he was splayed over the couch.
It’s later in the day, hours after, the practice cancelled as Wonjin had felt too exhausted to even get back home, that Minhee was also still in the apartment. It wasn't even out of ordinary for him to be there, yet as Jungmo entered the living room, as aware of the giggles coming from Seongmin’s room as Minhee probably was, he still smiled, feeling warm inside.
Jungmo shrugged. “I don't think either of them care, though,” he says as he sits beside the younger boy, the latter's head coming to rest on his lap almost immediately. “Wonjin is too head over heels, and Seongmin isn't less whipped.”
“Hmm, says who,” Minhee murmurs absentmindedly, playing lazily with the sleeves of his own shirt.
Jungmo feels himself freeze— suddenly his hand in the air, on the way into Minhee’s hair felt too intrusive, suddenly he’s too aware of the heat creeping up his neck as well as the slight blush peeking on Minhee’s own cheeks.
“What?”
“Aren't you whipped, too?” Minhee says, almost too shyly as his voice dropped lower, almost a whisper against Jungmo’s knees. “Not for Wonjin, obviously. For me.”
Oh.
Maybe Jungmo wasn't as subtle with the way he smiles, or with the way his eyes always linger just a bit longer on Minhee than they do on everyone else. Or maybe, Jungmo was still dreaming and in no time he’d wake up to his alarm ringing annoyingly—
“I'm not oblivious,” Minhee pulls Jungmo out of his spiral. “Well, maybe just a little. But I thought you weren't that oblivious, either?” The younger turns slightly, a frown on his face as he sounds genuinely curious.
“Oblivious of what?” Jungmo didn't really understand. He should have had coffee instead of tea in the morning, he suddenly feels too dizzy.
Minhee gets up, tilting his head as he examines Jungmo's face. “Do I have to spell it out for you? You like me, Jungmo. Maybe love, I don't know the difference too well.”
Well, Jungmo knew that. Even if he didn't really think of it exactly that way, there surely were feelings a lot deeper than he’s my best friend and— Jungmo feels like an idiot. Maybe he’s worse than Wonjin, but then again, Minhee’s never really shown any signs that he was even aware of anything Jungmo did.
“Am I wrong?” Minhee asks after a moment too long, and he sounds sheepish again.
Jungmo thinks he shakes his head way too hard. “No!” He clears his throat. “Not at all. I.. I do like you, and love you.” He smiles.
Minhee doesn't reply for a few moments, staring at Jungmo’s face with an expression Jungmo couldn't really read. It couldn't be too bad, could it? Jungmo can feel his hands sweating profusely as he rested them against his thigh, too aware of the thumping of his heart against his ribcage. The moment is surely stretching for too long, isn't it? Maybe it isn't too late to take his words back, maybe run—
Minhee’s lips cover Jungmo's own in what seemed to be the softest touch, barely there, yet Jungmo’s entire body felt as though it was on fire. “I like you too, Jungmo,” the younger whispered against the elder’s lips, before he leaned in again. This time, Jungmo remembers how to human as he parted his lips, reciprocating the touch as they kissed slowly.
It’s all too soft and almost domestic for maybe a minute more, before Minhee is the first to pull away, catching his breath as he giggled wholeheartedly. Jungmo stares for a brief moment, before he grins widely, sneaking another kiss.