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Curious eyes watch as a tall alpha walks into the conference room, expression a little sour but overall pretty good looking.
Minhyeong considers him and lets his eyes travel down the sharp lines of the man’s body.
Good enough.
“He’s handsome, but he looks like he’d have a temper,” Minseok comments from next to him. They’re tucked up against the wall, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves as they sip their drinks and wait for the rest of their team to finish their interviews.
It’s busy backstage and Minhyeong is starting to get a headache from all the sounds and scents that assail his senses.
Minseok has decided to distract him by talking about all the good-looking people that walk past, though, and Minhyeong has let him. It’s nice to just be shallow and most of the people there don’t understand Korean anyway.
“Yeah,” Minhyeong agrees, glancing over at the random tech guy Minseok is talking about. Worlds is busy and there are a lot of people they wouldn’t normally see, so it’s like a walking buffet of attractive alphas and betas and omegas.
“You like that, though. Especially making up after a fight.”
Minseok grins. “Sure. He smells like a beta, though. Pity.”
Minhyeong rolls his eyes. “Minseok, seriously. It’s not like you’re going to find yourself a mate here anyway. You don’t even speak the same language.”
Minseok doesn’t care, though. He’s an omega and ever since he and Minhyeong broke up he’s seemed restless. As if realizing that Minhyeong isn’t going to be the one for him and that it means it’ll have to be someone else.
“We can communicate through body language,” Minseok says, a filthy little twist to his lips.
Minhyeong just laughs.
A new person walks through the door and both are distracted. A tall, slender man with bright eyes and defined features steps inside and then stops to check something on his phone.
Minhyeong just knows that the man smells good just from looking at him.
Minseok whistles under his breath. “Wow, he’s gorgeous.”
His friend’s eyes seem to light up, though Minhyeong knows it’s more for Minhyeong than Minseok himself. His friend likes someone bigger than him who he can bully into submission, not someone as slender and pretty faced as the one fiddling around on his phone in front of them.
“He seems familiar,” Minhyeong muses. It’s like he can smell him from all the way against the wall. Jasmine and moonlight and old memories.
It makes no sense.
“Oh yeah,” Minseok says, suddenly excited. “I think I remember him too. He’s from years back when we faced WBG, isn’t he? Crisp?”
Ah yes. Minhyeong remembers him now. The pretty support on the other side, eyes occasionally straying to where Minhyeong had been sitting. They’d fought tooth and nail like mortal enemies and yet Minhyeong had felt eyes on him more than once.
“Isn’t he the one who called you his favourite adc, or something?”
“He did.”
It comes back to him, then, the comments. He’d felt so pleased to be recognized by a senior in the business. Someone who saw him and chose him of all people.
He remembers encountering him in soloqueue and complimenting him back, but then…nothing. No interactions beyond Minhyeong occasionally noticing his name on some of the LPL results.
He wonders if the man is here in any official capacity or just visiting like so many other players who were in the finals of Worlds once.
“You’re staring,” Minseok hisses, elbowing him in the stomach, and Minhyeong blinks.
It’s as if he’d been locked away for a second there, just full of memories and the scent of potential. Potential for what, he doesn’t know.
He realizes then that the man, Crisp, has looked up from his phone now and is staring right back at him. Minhyeong feels himself blush.
Maybe that’s what sparks the man to walk up, because the Chinese man pockets his phone and makes his way over. Minseok makes a startled little sound, like he doesn’t know what to do.
“Gumayusi-seonsu,” Crisp says, the words accented by easy enough to understand. “Keria-seonsu.”
He gives them a small bow and then smiles. Minhyeong watches his lips as they stumble over the vowels like he’s never really used them before. He supposes he would have had no reason to.
“Hello,” he answers back, feeling foolish. Minseok bows back, but Minhyeong can feel that his support feels tense.
“Long time no see,” he tries in his best English. If he directs conversation then maybe his friend will feel a little less awkward.
“Yes. Long time. Good memories.” The other man pauses and seems to consider something. “Well, bad memories. We lose. But good to see you again.”
Minhyeong wants to say something cool and impressive, but his brain refuses. He stands there, trapped in a sea of jasmine and languages he doesn’t really speak.
What does he call the man? Crisp? Hyung? Minhyeong is younger, sure, but that’s a Korean term. Gege? Isn’t that what Chinese people use for men that are older? But wouldn’t that be awkward? Minhyeong can feel his mind spiralling a little and it’s frustrating because that is not him. He is Gumayusi, confident even when he’s not. Words never leave him and certainly not when he needs them most.
“You are good,” Crisp says next. His eyes are sharp and they land on Minhyeong. “Always very good.”
“Ah,” he stutters. “Thank you.”
His pulse is racing and he doesn’t know why. Nerves, sure, it’s never easy to meet a senior and talk to them in a foreign language, but is that all it is? Minhyeong isn’t so sure.
He smells good, he suddenly realizes. He didn’t think he liked jasmine, but this man - this omega, his alpha brain supplies helpfully - smells so good that Minhyeong is having trouble not leaning in closer.
He can’t do that in public and Minseok would absolutely yell at him for overstepping boundaries, but…he wants to.
Both he and Minseok have been quiet for a while now, though, and the other man laughs awkwardly.
“Ah, I will go. Good luck in your matches.”
Minseok bows respectfully and thanks the omega, but Minhyeong is unable to move. He stands there, his eyes following the slender back of a man he barely even remembered before today. He regrets it.
“Minhyeong.”
Minseok sounds annoyed.
“Minhyeong.”
Minhyeong swallows nervously. “I…”
“What’s wrong with you?” Minseok hisses. “Why are you all red?”
“I don’t know!”
He doesn’t. All he knows is that the man’s scent won’t leave his nose and his body feels hot. He keeps glancing at the door, as if he’s expecting something. Someone.
He wants to follow.
“You’re being super weird.”
Minseok is right. He is. A random man from a random moment in Minhyeong’s past spoke to him for less than a minute and now Minhyeong is startled. Unmoored. It’s like he needs…
“I have to go after him,” he tells Minseok. The support’s eyes go large.
“What? But we’re leaving soon!”
“I know, but I have to. I don’t know why, but I know I have to.”
“Minhyeong, don’t be stupid. We have a match tomorrow and the interviews will be over soon. You can’t just walk o-”
“I’m sorry,” Minhyeong interrupts. “I need to go.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply and just rushes out the door. He thinks he vaguely hears Minseok yelling out his name, but his heart is thundering out of his chest and all he feels is the ache in his bones that tells him to chase that omega.
He knocks into one person too many as he makes his way through the hallway, but all he can focus on is the scent of jasmine and the way it is spurring him on.
It leads him to the exit and two large doors. Outside it’s already getting dark and rain is streaming down. Minhyeong doesn’t care and walks head first into it, his tracksuit soaked within minutes.
He can still feel where he needs to go, though, and doesn’t care that he’s soaking wet when he finally finds the omega he’s been looking for in a nearby parking garage.
Crisp stares at him, clearly shocked. There’s also something in his eyes, though. A tremble of recognition and an unveiled sliver of joy. Had he been hoping for this?
“Alpha,” the man says, voice soft.
“Omega,” Minhyeong acknowledges back, shivering with more than just the cold.
The other man leans in, gently wiping away some of the raindrops that are running down Minhyeong’s face. His touch burns and Minhyeong gasps in a breath.
He knows what this is. It’s scary and it’s terrifying, but now that he’s so close to the man he remembers how he’d looked the few times they’d interacted. He remembers how fascinated he had been with the omega support, but how hard he’d pushed it down because his own omega support was sitting right next to him.
It’s no longer guilt he feels now, though. It’s jubilation and need and wanting to burrow closer.
The omega seems to realize, because he smiles and tilts his head. A long, pale neck is exposed and Minhyeong dives in greedily, breathing in the scent that drives him wild.
It’s unprofessional and rather rude to scent a stranger in a parking lot, but Crisp lets him and whimpers softly when Minhyeong’s nose touches his bare skin.
“I…” he starts, hands hovering in the air to keep from touching the other man. It’s not appropriate and he needs to keep his composure.
He doesn’t know what to say, though. How is he supposed to figure things out with someone who he thinks might be his mate but whose language he doesn’t speak?
The support shakes his head as if to tell him not to worry. “It’s okay. We are okay.”
Minhyeong nods, giving him a shaky smile in return.
He puts his hand on his chest. “I am Minhyeong.”
The omega’s face brightens and Minhyeong thinks he’s beautiful.
“I am QingSong.”
Minhyeong doesn’t quite realize it then, what this moment means, but he will soon enough.
When he leaves China some weeks later he doesn’t just bring home a trophy. He also leaves with the knowledge that he’s met his future.