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Mingyu is tall and pretty and good at everything. Soonyoung hates it.
He doesn’t really hate it, because he thinks it’s amazing (and useful whenever you are very, very bad at something, like Soonyoung sometimes is), but he almost hates it. Today is the annual bonfire at Wonwoo’s house to celebrate the advent of fall even though fall has been going on for at least an entire month, so Mingyu is going over a few hours earlier to help set up because they always need him to do things that nobody else can ever seem to do. As much as Soonyoung wishes he did, he has no reason to go over a few hours early, so all he’s got to do on this fine Saturday is sit around and wait until it’s a reasonable time and leave.
If only they could have the bonfire at his house, he thinks. Things would be a million times better at least, and he would be so much less bored, but it goes without saying that it could never happen. While Soonyoung lives in the center of a semi-cramped suburban neighborhood with a yard the size of a tic tac, Wonwoo lives twenty minutes away in the middle of Buttfuck, Nowhere, on like a million hectares or something. Soonyoung forgets how much land it is exactly, but it’s more than everybody else’s yards put together, so his house is the designated bonfire location if they want to avoid being suspected of arson. Soonyoung pushes his hair out of his face and groans when he sees how the hands on the wall clock haven’t moved any. Suspicion of arson might not even be that bad.
Soonyoung flings his feet over the arm of the couch and decides he may as well take a nap if the only other alternative is to waste his day away in bored aggravation. He sets his phone on the center of his chest and closes his eyes, neck bent uncomfortably against the other arm of the couch and head lolling over the back. It’s tragically uncomfortable, but he is a man of perseverance, and after a few minutes, his brain is starting to drift into that halfway zone between being asleep and being awake.
Just as he is on the brink of drifting into slumber, his phone buzzes excitedly and alarmingly right on top of his sternum and yanks him back to full consciousness. He fixes the screen with a glare so bitter he puts his password in wrong three times before he gets it to unlock.
FROM: WonWHO
Bring a bag of chips or something when u come over later
Soonyoung contemplates for a moment before typing his reply.
TO: WonWHO
would it be 2 much for me to get a bag and come over now
His phone alerts again within seconds.
FROM: WonWHO
Don’t even think about it
FROM: WonWHO
If ur thirsty ass comes over 3 hrs early just to gaze longingly at mingyu and get in the way i’m murdering u myself
TO: WonWHO
I’M NOT THIRSTY you DICK
FROM: WonWHO
Sure. And i’m 12 feet tall and greek
FROM: WonWHO
Don’t come over
Soonyoung purses his lips and rests his phone back where it had been on his chest. Against his better judgement, he starts scrounging his brain for Mingyu’s favorite chips; after all, if he has to suffer now, he may as well get to enjoy that huge smile stretching Mingyu’s whole face later. The only problem is that he can’t remember what Mingyu’s favorite is, which is both annoying because he feels like he should know it and also a relief because it means Mingyu might not own his ass as much as he thought. After a few minutes of contemplation, he picks his phone back up and types out a hasty message.
TO: JiWHOn
would u happen to know offhand what mingyu’s fav type of chip is
It’s a few minutes of tense breathing before he receives anything in reply. Jihoon may not have been the best choice, but Soonyoung’s hands move faster than his brain, and all actions are impossible to undo, so he does nothing but wait in silence for his phone to vibrate again.
FROM: JiWHOn
Wonwoo texted u too I guess
FROM: JiWHOn
I think he likes sour cream and onion but i literally don’t know why ur asking me
Soonyoung hums. Sour cream and onion sounds kind of right, and even if it isn’t, Soonyoung likes it enough to justify the choice to everyone but Jihoon.
TO: JiWHOn
thanks
FROM: JiWHOn
No problem. Also *whip noise*
TO: JiWHOn
im sorry What are u implying
FROM: JiWHOn
You know exactly what i am implying
TO: JiWHOn
u sending me *whip noise* doesn’t affect me at all jsyk
FROM: JiWHOn
Say that all u want but i know it totally does. Mentally, i own u
Soonyoung throws his phone back down irately because, unfortunately, Jihoon does mentally own him. Jihoon has mentally owned him since three months ago, when the neck of Mingyu’s shirt got caught on a stray nail in the wall and ripped it all the way down the back and Soonyoung stared very hard and Jihoon just happened to be looking in the right direction at the right time. If there’s anyone you do not want to mentally own you, it would have to be Jihoon, and while Soonyoung does regret being mentally owned, he does not regret the eyeful of beautifully tanned back he was privy to on that sweaty afternoon.
When there’s about an hour left before the actual “official” start of the get-together, Soonyoung reasons he can leave to go get the chips and then make the journey out to Wonwoo’s house and arrive early enough that it’s only slightly uncomfortable, so he scoops his keys off the counter and hustles out the front door with barely tied shoes and barely a word to his mother.
He rolls up to Wonwoo’s driveway a little bit earlier than he expected and parks in the grass by the roadside. There’s a pretty big concrete space at the end of the driveway meant for guests, and nobody’s parked in it yet, but the driveway itself is so ungodly twisty and there’s no way he’s going to test his own skills by trying to navigate his way back down it once the sun’s already long set. Once he climbs out, bag of chips clutched firmly in hand, he sees Mingyu’s dinged up Chevy perched snugly on the other side. A small smile crosses his lips. At least he’s not the only one who’s too scared to risk it.
“Nice and early, I see,” is what Wonwoo says when he opens the door, eyes narrowed in protest of Soonyoung’s brightest smile.
“Good to see you too, buddy,” he responds, hoisting up his bag of chips. “I brought the requested chips.” The way Wonwoo’s brow furrows tells him Jihoon’s information was more than likely correct, and Soonyoung makes a mental note to thank him later. “Where’s your peon?” he asks with a cough.
Wonwoo’s face quickly morphs into a smug smile. “Very far away. Sucks for you.” As he finishes up the sentence, the sound of heavy footsteps on hardwood reaches Soonyoung’s ears. Not a second later, a tall figure is meandering around the corner with a large bag of ice in each hand.
“Woo! Soonyoung’s here!” The goofy grin overtaking his face is enough to make up for ten eternities of suffering. He’s got the exact right set of teeth to smile like a complete dork and still look handsome, and he makes plenty sure Soonyoung never gets a chance to forget it. His eyes travel to the bag of chips in Soonyoung’s hand and widen exponentially. “Sour cream and onion chips?” he cries, flailing his arms around despite the heavy load. Soonyoung is grateful and disappointed he’s wearing a sweater and not something that would showcase his arms better. “Christmas really does get earlier every year.”
Soonyoung is having such a tough time holding back a smile that he ends up letting himself grin like an idiot, and Wonwoo is having such a tough time refraining from rolling his eyes that he gives in fully to rolling them. Sweeping the door open, he ushers Soonyoung inside to either sit there like a good boy and not mess anything up or make himself useful and do one of the simpler menial tasks that Mingyu doesn’t have enough hands for. He opts for choice number one and cops a seat on the couch, trying not to stare too obviously whenever Mingyu walks through the living room. In the space of time that he sees Mingyu pass through on six occasions, always with something different in his arms, he sees Wonwoo only once, carrying a sleeve of plastic cups.
“It seems like Mingyu is doing more work than you,” Soonyoung remarks when Wonwoo returns emptyhanded. Wonwoo places a hand on each hip and guffaws loudly at the accusation.
“Of course he’s doing more work than me,” Wonwoo explains, brushing a nonexistent tear from beneath his eye. “Look at my frail body. He has to do it or I will die.”
“Frail, my ass,” Soonyoung scoffs. “There’s no reason you even need him to do anything for you in the first place.”
“The reason is I like ordering him around,” Wonwoo says with a shrug. “Sue me.”
“You are truly terrible.” Wonwoo snorts.
“If it upsets you so much, go help him set up the table.” He eyes Soonyoung suspiciously as he rises from the couch, fingers drumming against his own leg. “I can’t believe you’re trying to claim the moral high ground when you trip Chan just to make him tie your shoes for you.”
“You can’t prove that I trip him,” Soonyoung sings on his way out the back door.
“That statement is proof enough,” Wonwoo sings back from behind him.
Mingyu is crouched down next to the folding table when Soonyoung gets outside, one hand gripping the plastic edge and one hand pressed into the paving of the patio to support his weight. Cogs are turning behind his eyes while he tries to figure out how he’s going to get this open easily without any help. If Soonyoung gives him enough time, he’ll probably figure it out, and given that would defeat the purpose of his coming outdoors, he intervenes before Mingyu has time to reach his revelation. He looks up when he sees Soonyoung’s fingers curl around the edge of the table, next to his but not quite touching.
“Oh, sweet,” he says, straightening his back and rising to his full height, “you’re gonna help me? I was just thinking about how there’s no way I could get this thing open by myself.” His eyes are glittery and his hair looks soft and god damn does Soonyoung wish he could get anywhere past longing gazes.
“I’m sure you would have figured it out,” Soonyoung tells him, swiveling the plastic around to get to the legs. “You’re good at this kind of thing.”
“I’m really not,” Mingyu grumbles. Soonyoung doesn’t know whether it’s an outright lie or excessive humility, but his weak, tender heart tells him to lean toward the latter. “I don’t know why Wonwoo always has me come help set up.”
“Well, I hate to be the bad news bear, but he just likes bossing you around.” Mingyu sighs more heavily than Soonyoung has ever seen anyone do.
“I know.” He whips out one of the legs of the table with a low hum and flashes a muted smile. “But I like to pretend I live in a world where Wonwoo is not that much of an asshole.” He passes another leg into Soonyoung’s hand smoothly. “So, did you bring sour cream and onion chips because you know they’re my favorite, or was that just a coincidence?” Soonyoung thinks about how badly Jihoon mentally owns him before answering.
“Just a coincidence, I guess,” he lies. Mingyu can probably tell he’s lying. Jihoon is at least ten miles away and can probably tell he’s lying. Mingyu acts like he can’t tell.
“Darn,” he mumbles cheerlessly. “And here I thought I was special.” Oh, but you are, Soonyoung’s heart sings. His lungs are on the verge of joining in when Mingyu swings another leg out and fixes Soonyoung with a smug smile. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to eat them all regardless.”
“I guess I can’t stop you.”
“You can,” Mingyu muses, lips stretching into a wider grin, “but I know you won’t.” Before Soonyoung can think of something clever to say, Mingyu has extended the final leg and locked all of them in place, is setting the table up on the patio and dragging the cooler up beside it. “Thanks for helping me with the table.” Soonyoung is highly aware he did not do much.
“No problem.” As he meanders back into the house, he spies Wonwoo lounging on the couch with his eyes in a book that he’s not even pretending to read. The title on the front cover is very conspicuously upside down. “You’re really the worst, you know that?” Wonwoo’s jaw drops.
“You have the nerve to say that to me when I just gave you a free pass to flirt in my backyard?”
“I did not—” Soonyoung sputters. “I was not flirting.” Wonwoo hums and shuts his upside down book.
“People tend to split their contractions up when they lie,” he informs him, shoving himself up off the couch. “Just something to keep in mind.” A ring comes from the doorbell before Soonyoung gets to retort, and Wonwoo strides over to pry the door open and admit Jihoon. Seokmin is close at his heels, noisily singing an improvisational medley of Christmas songs, and Jihoon looks severely torn over whether he should commit murder or sing along. Whip noise, indeed.
The sun set impossibly quickly between Soonyoung coming inside and Wonwoo opening the front door again, and the darkness only gets more pervasive with each guest he lets into the house. By the time they’ve all arrived, it’s pitch dark outside; fortunately, Mingyu was forced into stringing up fairy lights on the pergola, so they crowd under it outside until the fire is lit. Once again, Mingyu is forced into lighting it.
A tight ring of outdoor chairs circles the fire at a semi-safe distance, and Soonyoung finds himself in the seat next to Mingyu, which would be much more enjoyable if Jihoon were not on his other side. Mingyu claims the entire bag of sour cream and onion chips and sits with it in his lap, munching on them without pause. Soonyoung accidentally makes eye contact with him eight times, and Mingyu always smiles back at him like they’re sharing some secret. Jihoon makes certain to cough extra loudly whenever he sees it happen.
Once enough time has elapsed, Wonwoo’s mom busts out the s’mores supplies and pulls all the boys out of their seats with ease. Much like Soonyoung, Mingyu allows the flames to completely engulf the marshmallow and burn it to a crisp black, and Soonyoung internally registers it as just one more item in the infinitely long list of reasons why they are totally meant to be. Across the fire, Wonwoo rolls his eyes behind a perfectly golden brown marshmallow.
Half an hour later, the desire to consume s’mores is still running strong, but the graham cracker supply is drastically low. With each s’more made, cautious glances are thrown around the circle, a silent plea for someone, anyone to volunteer to venture back into the house to find the extra box Wonwoo is sure must be in there somewhere or head to the closest grocery store if necessary. Given that it’s Wonwoo’s house, he should be the first to volunteer, but he’s also a huge dick, so he refuses to do it, instead patiently eyeing the rest of the group to see who will crack first.
There is one single graham cracker remaining when Soonyoung glances to his right and sees Mingyu drop his phone out of his pocket and bend down to pick it up. Soonyoung really, truly, honestly does try not to look, but he knows from past experience that Mingyu has a phenomenal ass, so his polite eye aversion accidentally turns itself into a blatant stare. To his left, Jihoon chokes on the breath he was taking, and Soonyoung’s face colors the bright red hue of shame. He becomes the first to crack; Wonwoo cackles behind his hand.
Once inside, Soonyoung quickly determines he has no idea where he ought to be looking for spare graham crackers in the first place. Normally, the kitchen would make the most sense, but knowing Wonwoo, they’d probably be tucked in the closet with the hot water heater, so it’s a much more difficult course of action to pursue. Eventually, he decides that wherever they are, Mingyu probably put them there so Wonwoo’s lazy ass wouldn’t have to, which means they’re likely somewhere normal like the kitchen or the pantry.
Wonwoo’s house has an enormous walk-in pantry the size of a small nation, so Soonyoung deems it the most reasonable location and elects to scour it first. He counts at least six boxes of Cheerios and two huge bags of rice and wonders if Wonwoo’s mother knows something about an impending apocalypse that she’s been hiding from them. Shelf by shelf, he looks everything over, starting at the bottom and moving up, and by the time he’s started looking at the third shelf, he figures he would save time by just going to the store to get some, but now he’s determined to find them somewhere in this house, even if he does have to go fetch them from the closet where the hot water heater is.
The top shelf is just high up enough that Soonyoung can’t really reach anything on it, but it’s low enough that he can mainly see everything up there, and he thinks he sees the blue packaging of a box of graham crackers shining like a local north star a few inches back from the edge. There’s no way Mingyu didn’t put those up there; Wonwoo would have been too lazy to keep them anywhere he can’t reach with his feet. Soonyoung stretches with all his might, but the tips of his fingernails barely graze the front of the box. If only he were a little taller.
“I’ll get it for you.” A voice like melted caramel is right behind his ear, and not one second later, he sees a long arm stretching overhead to snag the box from its perch. For all its cliché overtones, Mingyu’s chest is warm and strong and pressed against Soonyoung’s back probably more than it needs to be, and he revels in the moment briefly. When he turns around, Mingyu is still standing unduly close, and the shelves prevent Soonyoung from backing up any farther, so all he can do is stare up into Mingyu’s eyes like a little kid looking at the stars. He wishes he were taller by any amount at all. He’d even settle for an inch. Mingyu lowers the box into Soonyoung’s idle hands but doesn’t let go of it. “Sure took you a while to find them.”
“I was going shelf by shelf,” Soonyoung mutters, only just realizing that going shelf by shelf doesn’t make as much sense as he thought originally. Laughter dances in Mingyu’s eyes, and they both stay exactly where they are.
He’s standing too close for someone who’s not interested. He has to know that, Soonyoung thinks. There’s no way he doesn’t realize how close he’s standing, no way he thinks this is an acceptable distance at which to stand away from someone, yet he doesn’t look like he’s going to move any time soon or ever. Maybe he’s just not standing as close as Soonyoung thinks even though he can feel their knees bumping into each other, and perhaps Soonyoung is just hallucinating their nearness because he’s spent so much time in the pantry. Maybe Mingyu’s not even here at all and he’s just dreaming him up because he fell asleep after spending too long looking for the elusive graham crackers, and his face is actually smashed on the floor of the pantry right now as Wonwoo takes pictures to blackmail him with later. To test his hypotheses, he reaches forward and thoughtlessly places a hand on Mingyu’s chest.
His sweater is soft, and having felt it, Soonyoung should promptly remove his hand, but he does not. He leaves it there much longer than anyone should leave their hand on anyone’s chest. Especially if all that someone is doing in the first place is making sure they aren’t imagining things or dreaming with their face on a tile floor. Especially if the person whose chest is being touched is an abominably attractive just friend who has done nothing to indicate being interested aside from stand very close on this particular occasion. Mingyu raises his eyebrows.
“Yes?” he asks, amusement twinkling in his words.
“God,” Soonyoung groans, heat creeping to his cheeks, and Mingyu chuckles deeply. Soonyoung feels it through his palm.
“Nope, just me.” Soonyoung laughs even though it’s not funny because he really feels like he has to. He hears Jihoon’s voice do its best recreation of a whip noise. “Not that I’m complaining, but why is your hand on my chest?”
“Why are you standing so close?” he asks instead of answering. Mingyu hums, and Soonyoung feels that through his palm, too.
“‘Cause I want to.” The way Soonyoung’s heartbeat stops and starts back up again is highly worrying from a medical perspective.
“Well, then,” he says, patting Mingyu’s chest a few times gently. He takes a good, hard minute to contemplate whether he wants to go ahead and shoot himself in the foot now or put it off for a little while longer. Weighing options is tough, and it’s even tougher when Mingyu decides to chime in.
“You look like you want to say something,” he points out, and Soonyoung wishes he would stop being like this for a minute or two so he could gather his thoughts instead of make the split-second decision to shoot his own foot like he’s about to.
“Yeah,” he concedes lamely. “I lied earlier,” is what he begins with. “I actually did buy sour cream and onion chips because they’re your favorite.”
“So I guess I am special after all.”
“Yep.” The way Mingyu’s face lights up when he smiles is really something. Soonyoung wishes he had a camera. He takes a long pause to figure what exactly he’s trying to say here, but nothing comes to him. “God,” he says again around a sigh.
“Still just me.” Soonyoung snorts.
“Would you stop being so lame?”
“No,” Mingyu denies flatly. “You love it.” Soonyoung releases a long exhale. “That sigh sounded like you agreeing.”
“Did not.”
“Did so.”
“Did not.”
“Did so.”
“Did not.”
“Would you just kiss me already?”
“Did—what?” Soonyoung blinks slowly a few times, waiting for Mingyu to repeat himself, but Mingyu’s giving him a look that says you heard me. “Are you giving me permission?”
“I’ve been waiting for a very long time for you to request permission, so I’m guessing that you were about to and giving you the okay in advance.”
“Are you saying you want me to kiss you?”
“Soonyoung, I asked you to.” He clamps a hand firmly on Soonyoung’s shoulder, thumb ghosting toward his neck. “I don’t know how much more direct I can get.”
“Here?” Soonyoung asks hesitantly. “In the pantry?” Before he can ask any other questions, Mingyu robs him of the opportunity, pressing their lips together with a tender firmness that Soonyoung hasn’t felt from a kiss in a long time. Mingyu leans back slowly, eyes glittering. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” Soonyoung breathes. Mingyu’s eyebrow shoots up.
“Do what?” His smile is smug and annoying and also beautiful and Soonyoung adores it. “That was all me.” He leans in until Soonyoung can’t look anywhere but his eyes. “Put your money where your mouth is.” Soonyoung does.
When they make it back out to the fire, they find that Jeonghan went to the store and bought two boxes of graham crackers while they were otherwise occupied and is now demanding reimbursement that nobody is willing to offer him. Jihoon eyes the pair carefully as they reassume their seats, clears his throat very loudly when Mingyu leans in close to whisper in Soonyoung’s ear, raises his eyebrows clean off his forehead when Mingyu scoots his chair closer to let his hand linger on Soonyoung’s thigh. Soonyoung gets a number of text messages on the drive home to which he does not reply.
FROM: JeongWHOn
Nice dude. But if u don’t pay me back 4 the graham crackers ur so fukn dead to me
FROM: JiWHOn
*whip noise* whip noise* whip noise*
FROM: JiWHOn
Also the whip noises are louder now just in case u didn’t know
FROM: JiWHOn
Also i still own u mentally even if mingyu owns u physically. Typing that made me want to puke. I hate u
FROM: WonWHO
You’re a sick piece of shit you know that. My own pantry. ALL OUR CEREAL IS IN THERE AND U AND MINGYU TAINTED IT
FROM: WonWHO
Come over tomorrow and deep clean it i’m serious. If i can never eat breakfast again and waste away into death my blood will be on ur hands
FROM: WonWHO
YOU DICK
FROM: WonWHO
STOP IGNORING MY TEXTS
Soonyoung can still taste s’mores bizarrely mixed with sour cream and onion chips, and he does not stop ignoring Wonwoo’s texts.