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Never in his 23 years of existence has Minseok imagined he’d be the one dealing with a sulking boyfriend.
Usually, he was the designated sulker in all of his previous relationships. It was his brand. His birthright. Sulking was supposed to be his job! Because he is Ryu Minseok, a man who knows exactly how to maximize his assets. Combining it with his natural charm as an omega, he has spent years maxing out his pouting skills, so having the tables turned on him like this feels unreal.
But dating his new adc is proving to be a crash course in entirely new life experiences.
Wait. That sweet and polite Kim Suhwan? Sulking? Is that even a possibility?
Well, yes. To outsiders, Suhwan is this soft and obedient boy who—despite being an alpha—looks like he needs to be protected from the world and would never hurt a fly, let alone cause distress to his favorite hyung.
Minseok just wants to laugh. If only they knew. After all, one doesn’t become a threat on the rift by being a pushover, so no one should be fooled by that cute, innocent-looking face. The guy survived a whole year in China and managed to charm his way through the infamously brutal grind of being an LPL pro player all over again.
Minseok really should have seen it coming.
It took less than a month for him to get completely charmed by the boy. Somehow, right in the middle of their unending schedule of tournament and content shoots, they end up as boyfriends—or as their second-gender-biased society would formally it, mates.
Turns out, Suhwan is so much more than his first impression. Once Minseok actually managed to slip inside Suhwan’s comfort bubble, his polite facade fell away, revealing a menace of a maknae who knows exactly which buttons to push—and right now, in the middle of Paris summer heat, right here on the rehearsal stage, that menace is deploying a weapon Minseok never saw coming at him:
The ultimate sulk.
Which makes the whole situation infinitely more awkward because, among the sea of players gathered on stage, Minseok and Suhwan are the only ones without their uniforms—and as result, they’re drawing more attention than they’d ever want.
At this point, if false rumors start flying tomorrow that T1’s botduo is locked in a feud over losing MSI, Minseok won't even be surprised.
“Suhwan-ah,” he tries to call out softly, keeping his eyes locked straight ahead so no one notices them whispering. But to his dismay, the young alpha doesn’t respond.
Minseok waits, silently reading the situation. It’s obvious that Suhwan is ignoring him on purpose.
Shit. This might actually be serious.
Once the curious stares finally begin to drift away and everyone returns to minding their own business, Minseok turns to his right. He looks up at his adc, whose arms are tightly crossed, cold eyes staring straight at the empty seats in front of them.
“Suhwan-ah. Sorry, okay?” he says, leaning slightly toward the boy. “It was my bad. Now stop acting like this, won’t you?”
“…”
Only the noise of the crowds answers him. Then Suhwan does something he has never done to Minseok before. He gives Minseok a brief sideways glance, lets out a soft sigh, and wordlessly takes a big step to the side—putting a very visible, very dramatic distance between them.
Minseok can only stare at his side profile from afar, lips still visibly set in a stubborn pout.
The heck? Was it really that bad?
They are finally back in the waiting room when the question finally gets its brutal answer.
The younger alpha is idly scrolling through his phone when Minseok approaches. Without another word, Minseok deliberately drops his full weight onto the spot beside Suhwan on the couch…
“Suhwan-ah,” he softly calls.
…but before his hips even touch the cushion, Suhwan smoothly slides all the way to the far corner, pressing himself against the armrest.
Minseok turns his head slowly, one eye twitching as he stares hard at the younger boy who doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone throughout the entire humiliation ritual he’s just done.
What the actual fuck.
“Pfft—“
There’s the sound of Hyeonjun's stifled laughter from across the room—Minseok can feel the jungler’s snarky gaze boring into the side of his neck. That little shit. He must be enjoying this.
“Suhwan-ah~” Minseok repeats, softening his voice with a slightly babied tone, hoping his adc will finally respond so the humiliation can end and he can finally shove his middle finger straight into Hyeonjun’s face.
But of course, Suhwan refuses to give him that.
There’s only silence that punctuates Minseok’s miserable defeat.
Minseok clicks his tongue. “Hey, Suh—”
But he is cut off by the door clicking open—and there by the entrance, appears Hyunjoon, their toplaner. The beta peeks into the waiting room, pausing on the threshold as his eyes sweep across the space.
Hyeonjun’s face instantly lights up like a golden retriever. He pushes himself off the couch to greet the older.
“Hyunjoon-hyu—”
But he doesn’t even get two steps before Hyunjoon bypasses him entirely. Minseok lets out a scoff. Serves you right.
Hyunjoon’s gaze passes straight over Hyeonjun’s pathetically ignored shoulder before settling on Suhwan.
“Suhwan-ah,” he calls out, and the younger reacts instantly. He locks his phone and turns toward the doorway with a bright expression. “Yeah, hyung? What’s up?”
…Ouch. The contrast.
Suhwan’s voice is warm and sweet—the specific tone that feels strange now that Minseok hasn’t heard it directed toward him all day.
“Come here for a second,” Hyunjoon beckons for the adc to follow him out of the room.
“?” Suhwan tilts his head.
“Just come.” The top laner sounds a little more insistent this time.
“Ah.. Sure thing.” Suhwan gets to his feet, smooths down his shirt, and walks straight past Minseok without sparing him so much as a single glance—and Minseok can only watch as his existence is casually skipped over for what feels like the hundredth time today.
“Pfftt—“ there’s that annoying shit again.
The door clicks closed behind them, leaving only Minseok, a peacefully sleeping Sanghyeok, and a barely contained Hyeonjun—
and the snickering finally erupts into loud bursts of insufferable laughter.
“Holy shit. What a generational turnaround!” Hyeonjun wheezes, clutching his stomach. “After years of watching a spoiled brat get babied by his hopeless boyfriends... who would’ve thought I’d live to see Ryu Minseok acting like a miserable simp? I knew Suhwannie had it in him.”
“Shut your mouth!” Minseok snaps, narrowing his eyes into deadly slits. “Simp? Have you ever looked in a mirror? Are you seriously throwing that word around when you act like that toward Hyunjoon-hyung?”
“Damn right I am! I’m an unapologetic simp,” Hyeonjun retorts proudly. “I just never thought I’d gain a fellow simp comrade in this room. Maybe we can share a mirror so you can finally see yourself?”
The jungler leans back, giving out the most shit-eating grin imaginable.
“Welcome to the club, Ryu Minseok. You should’ve seen how pathetic you looked just now.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Minseok snaps. He snatches a throw pillow and hurls it at full speed right at the jungler’s head. Unfortunately, Hyeonjun’s pro-player reflexes kick in effortlessly—he catches it one-handed before giving it an extra smug squeezd.
“Is that what you said to Suhwanie? careful not to bite more than you can chew.”
This asshole.
Minseok has officially had enough. He just rolls his eyes into the back of his head, snatches up his phone, and pretends Hyeonjun no longer exists. Eventually, the jungler gives up, letting the quiet hush settle over the room to smother out the one-sided banter.
…
“You know, Suhwanie could be in his rebellious phase. It’s completely natural for teenagers.”
Sanghyeok’s calm voice suddenly intrudes on the silence. Both Minseok and Hyeonjun immediately snap their heads toward their captain.
“Hyung… since when are you awake?” Hyeonjun tilts his head—that fucker is still grinning.
“Just now,” Sanghyeok replies smoothly, resting his chin on his palm. “Minseok-ah, you shouldn’t smother him. I read a parenting book that said teenagers going through emotional growth spurts simply require adequate personal space.”
Minseok’s jaw drops. “Hyung! Suhwanie is 20 years old! He’s an adult!” he protests loudly. “And why on earth are you reading parenting books? You’re creeping me out…”
Sanghyeok doesn't even bat an eye at Minseok's mini-meltdown.
“Well, at least we know Suhwannie is good at spacing both in-game and out,” he says with a small smirk—that triggers another burst of snickering from Hyeonjun. “Holy shit, you got diffed in real life by your own adc!”
“I hate all of you,” Minseok almost wanted to say, but then he remembers that “all of you” includes Sanghyeok—so he just ends up groaning, slumping back into the couch. He is about to bury his head in his phone and ignore the ongoing humiliation, when Sanghyeok’s tone suddenly turns serious.
“So, what did you actually do to make Suhwan act like that, Minseok-ah?” he asks.
Minseok stares at his captain—then glances over at Hyeonjun. Well… Sanghyeok is an alpha. Hyeonjun is one, too (though Minseok highly doubts the jungler’s brain will offer anything useful). Maybe telling the whole story to them isn't actually a bad idea? At the very least, he might be able to assess the problem from alpha’s perspective.
Clearing his throat, Minseok shifts in his seat.
“Well…” he begins. “The truth is…”
It doesn’t get any better.
Even after leaving the stadium, Suhwan keeps giving Minseok the cold shoulder, completely icing him out while turning around to talk sweetly to Hyunjoon, clinging to the taller boy like he’s being glued.
Desperate, Minseok waves a hand to catch Hyunjoon’s attention before subtly pointing at Suhwan. Hyunjoon immediately gets the message. He leans down to whisper something to the adc while discreetly gesturing toward Minseok’s side of the walkway.
Great. Minseok instantly fixes a warm smile onto his face, readying himself for the moment Suhwan finally turns around.
But all he gets is a tiny, regretful shake of the head from Hyunjoon.
No good, the headshake says.
Fucking shit. Why is Suhwan acting like this?
“You really are the worst,” Hyeonjun had said the second Minseok finished explaining his side of the story.
“You should probably apologize properly, Minseok-ah. That’s about the worst thing you could do to your alpha,” Sanghyeok had solemnly advised.
Okay. Minseok has to admit that he’s in the wrong. But…
…Was it really that bad?
Yeah. Turns out, it really was that bad.
The silent treatment drags on all through their night scrims. Suhwan remains dead cold whenever Minseok tries to initiate conversation, only responding when it is strictly about the game. It is getting so obvious that even the coaches are starting to cast concerned side-eyes toward the botlane.
Finally, with the stifling heat biting at the air of their now-empty makeshift practice room, Minseok snaps.
“Suhwan-ah. Seriously, cut it out. If you stay mad like this, isn’t it going to ruin our synergy for tomorrow’s match?”
“…”
Again, Suhwan doesn’t even bother looking at him. His gaze remains fixed entirely on his monitor. From the side, Minseok can see that pout forming again—an adorable sight, honestly, if only they weren’t trapped in this ridiculous situation.
“…I’ll still listen to your calls,” Suhwan finally says.
“I’m professional enough for that.”
They are brief 2 sentences, delivered in voice way too cold to belong to the usual Suhwan, but at last—he is talking to him!
Hope surges a little too quickly. Minseok leans slightly toward his side…
..but Suhwan instantly rolls his chair further away, stubbornly preserving the ridiculously wide gap between them.
The corner of Minseok’s lips twitches at the dramatic show being put up in front of him.
“Suhwan-ah,” he says, unable to hide the growing desperation in his voice. “But I need to listen to your calls too! It’s going to be so awkward on stage if you keep acting like this.”
Suhwan draws in a deep breath, looking up from his screen just to let out a soft scoff.
“So that’s all this is to you, hyung? You’re only worried because you want to win tomorrow? Not because you actually feel guilty for what you did and want to fix things with me?”
What the heck? Who even is this guy? Where did his sweet and soft Suhwan go?
Minseok draws in another breath and sighs.
Okay. Let’s think this through.
He’s no stranger to this whole sulking game. He’s been through it countless times—as the one doing the sulking, of course. Now there, Ryu Minseok. Surely a man with this much experience in sulking can handle one sulking boyfriend.
Sulking is all about striking the perfect balance between being just cute enough to demand attention and mean enough to make a point. Once the attention is secured, the next step is to throw out a few carefully chosen rhetorical questions that leave the other person feeling guilty no matter how they answer.
See? This is basically a textbook situation.
Suhwan, the do-er, is now executing the very same strategy—and Minseok, unfortunately, is the victim this time. A painfully similar situation from the past, but reversed.
“Babe, won’t you forgive me? Please? I’ll make it up to you.”
“What a waste of a pretty face. I’m sorry, okay? Babe. I’ll do anything to put that pretty smile back.”
All those cheesy lines from his history come echoing back in a mocking chorus. Different voices, different rooms, different scents of sweets, flowers, and all the nice things—but they all point to the exact same conclusion.
If Minseok wants to get out of this situation, the solution is simple.
Apologize. Properly.
Which is crazy—the fact that Minseok is actually about to do this right now. For years, he was always the one on the receiving end of these apologies. Men have spent hours trying to coax Ryu Minseok out of his dark moods, bending over backward to make things right with him.
Funny how the tables have turned.
The universe must be laughing at the irony right now. But looking at the boy sitting beside him, Minseok realizes he doesn't care about the irony.
He is just that down bad for Kim Suhwan.
So he swallows what little pride he has left and quietly glides his chair back over, closing the distance until his arm is nearly brushing Suhwan’s.
“Suhwan-ah. Look at me.”
His voice comes out much softer this time.
“I really am sorry. I mean it.”
He even puts on his signature puppy eyes, just in case Suhwan finally turns to look at him—which, apparently, isn’t happening anytime soon.
“…” No response.
Suhwan doesn’t budge even a single millimeter. He just sits there, as stubborn as ever.
Fuck. How humiliating can this get?
Is this really what he put his exes through in the past?
Minseok should probably write a formal apology letter to every single one of them for being such a brat. But that’s tomorrow’s problem. The one that actually needs solving is sitting right beside him, in the form of his pouting boyfriend who has apparently decided to become an ice statue.
Minseok takes in another shallow breath.
Deep down, he knows. He’s been too spoiled. Because Suhwan is always so mature, Minseok completely forgot that the younger alpha is still, well, younger. Now that their perfect relationship dynamic has blown up in his face, and Suhwan is finally acting his age, Minseok actually has to step up and act like the older one for once.
You’re the “hyung” here. Get it together. This is your real role, he tells himself, trying to scrape together whatever maturity he has left.
“Suhwan-ah,” he tries again, softening his tone. “Was it really just my uniform that made you this angry?”
Suhwan doesn’t answer, but the pout on his face deepens so dramatically that it might as well answer for him.
So that’s it.
It’s unbelievable how Paris summer heat has managed to affect an otherwise level-headed guy like Suhwan this much. Well, he always complains about hating the summer, but seriously? Getting this worked up over a piece of clothing?
Minseok quietly exhales. He forces himself to swallow the irritation creeping up his throat, shoving his own stubborn pride aside.
“It was my bad,” he says, making his voice as gentle as possible. “I completely spaced out and thought I’d already packed my uniform. I only realized I’d forgotten it after we were already in the waiting room.”
“…”
“After all the time I spent scenting it, too…” Suhwan finally mutters, still refusing to look at Minseok. “…either you’re a liar or you just don’t care. I guess wearing a scented shirt is a bit too much of a hassle when you’re planning to go mingle with all those other alphas.”
Minseok’s eyes twitch in disbelief. He can almost feel a sharp vein pop near his temple.
“Then why didn’t you wear yours?” he shoots back, throwing his hands up. “Because you wanted to mingle with all those other omegas?”
Suhwan shifts uncomfortably, dropping his gaze straight to the floor. “…It’s none of your business.”
What the heck? Is he for real? Minseok scans his boyfriend, eyes narrowing as he zeroes in on a certain telltale sign. He crosses his arms and lets out a sharp scoff.
“It’s my business when it comes to my boyfriend.”
As expected, Suhwan remains silent, so Minseok fires again, looking down at the younger’s hand.
“Stop trying to act tough, Suhwan-ah. You already gave yourself away the moment you started fidgeting with your fingers.”
Suhwan flinches, his hand freezes. Realizing he’s been caught, he jerks them away altogether before—finally an eyecontact!—shooting Minseok a glare.
“If you’re doing it, then why can’t I?”
“…”
Minseok blanks for a second. He rapidly blinks, staring hard just to make sure that it is actually Suhwan who is talking right now.
The boy doesn't back down, keeping his tone sharp.
“If my omega is going around without a mark on him, why should I bother showing that I’m taken?”
Wow. Hold on. So the reason Suhwan didn’t wear his own uniform to the rehearsal either—was because it was all part of his sulking strategy?
“What are you, a 5 year old?” Minseok tilts his head in disbelief. There is no way his usually mature Suhwan is actually capable of this kind of petty thinking process.
The younger only stares back at him, jaw tensing.
“I’d rather be a 5 year old than a 20 year old guy whose boyfriend walks around acting like he’s unmated.”
“…”
Shit.
It is always the quiet ones who manage to weaponize words that stab the deepest.
They hold each other’s gaze for another long moment before Minseok finally looks away with a weary sigh, tipping his head back toward the ceiling. Across from him, Suhwan does the opposite, dropping his eyes to his hands.
His fingers are fidgeting again.
“You know how the western players act,” Suhwan says quietly. “They’re always so touchy-feely. I even saw them give you a high-five, even hugging you. It already happened once back during MSI, and I told you how I felt about it then. Yet here you are again, doing the exact same thing… you even ignored the effort I put into scenting your uniform.”
Oh God. Minseok inwardly facepalms.
This is their first major international tournament together since they mated. Well, there is MSI, but that was back home in Daejeon—which is like a comfortable bubble filled by familiar Korean fans and predictable boundaries, way bearable compared to here in Paris, where the venue is crawling with foreign players and boisterous fans whose casual physical contacts could be a constant trigger for Suhwan’s alpha territorial instincts.
It’s understandable that younger alphas tend to be more sensitive about things like this. But damn. Suhwan is actually way more, more possessive than he lets on.
“One of the worst things you can do to your alpha is have physical contact with another alpha outside the pack without his mark,” Sanghyeok had explained back in the waiting room. “Experienced alphas like me or Minhyeongie might be more laid-back about it, but younger ones like Suhwan will probably have a much harder time keeping their territorial instincts in check.”
“Make sure to let him mark you. It’ll help him settle down.”
To think that Suhwan—the guy who rarely ever resorts to words—had to explicitly explain that to him, only for Minseok to brush it off like it was nothing.
Well, shit.
All at once, Minseok feels like the real bad guy. He’d grown so used to dating laid-back, more experienced older alphas that he’d unconsciously assumed Suhwan would be the same.
“Suhwan-ah. I’m really sorry, okay?” Minseok tries again. “I meant everything I said. I really was spacing out after our loss. My head was a complete mess, and I really forgot all about the scented uniform. It didn’t even occur to me that I’d be surrounded by so many other alphas at rehearsal.”
Suhwan stays quiet for a long moment before letting out another soft sigh, his gaze still fixed on the floor. Sensing the shift, Minseok decides to seize the opportunity.
“Suhwan-ah.” He leans in just a little. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
“…”
Oh.
Looks like it’s enough to draw out a different reaction.
Minseok watches intently as the tense line of Suhwan’s jaw finally relaxes and his expression slightly softens.
“Well…” Suhwan clears his throat. He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck, before speaking again. “You don’t have to go that far, hyung.”
The moment his voice settles back into the familiar gentle cadence of the usual Suhwan, relief washes through Minseok’s chest. Finally!
“…I actually didn’t mean to stay mad for this long,” the younger admits. “I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t realize how much losing MSI was still affecting my mood.”
Then he finally lifts his head. “But I really don’t like it when you’re surrounding yourself with the alphas like that. You’re the best support in the world, the prettiest too. Of course they’d want a piece of you.”
Minseok can’t help but burst out laughing upon hearing that, feeling a bit giddy.
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were so bothered by it,” Minseok says softly, reaching out to wrap his fingers around Suhwan’s wrist. “But you’re being ridiculous. None of those guys were looking at me like that. And even if they were, they wouldn’t dare try anything.”
Suhwan lowers his gaze to where Minseok’s hand rests around his wrist, but he doesn’t pull away—which is a good sign.
“How can you be so sure?” he asks.
Minseok laughs again, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze. “Because I’m pretty sure you were burning holes through the backs of their heads the entire time. You don’t need a scented uniform to claim what’s yours, dummy.”
“Well, but you—“
“Suhwan-ah,” Minseok cuts in with a grin, “Who in their right mind would try to pick a fight with the best adc in the world?”
He waits for the subtle smirk or the shy, flustered shoulder-shove he usually gets. It never comes. What Minseok thought was a foolproof pickup line and flawless bit of glazing doesn’t land the way he wanted it to.
Unexpectedly, the vibe in the room plunges instantly. Suhwan’s expression darkens, he pulls his wrist away from Minseok’s grip, then snaps his head further down as if the compliment was a straight out insult instead of praise.
Minseok instantly regrets what he has just said.
“…I’m not the best adc in the world,” the younger mutters glumly.
He stares at his own fidgeting fingers, back rounding as he slumps in his seat. “If I really were, we would have lifted the trophy at MSI. The best doesn't let a series slip away like that.”
And just like that, Minseok feels a sudden tightness in his chest.
He clicks his tongue, turns his chair fully toward Suhwan, and reaches for his dejected boyfriend. First, he gently tilts the younger’s chin up before sliding his hand to cup the side of his face. Suhwan lets him without protest—another sign that he’s completely out of his sulking phase.
Looking straight into the troubled eyes that keep trying to avoid his gaze, Minseok doesn’t hold back.
“I don't give a damn about the match result or what the analysts think,” he says. “I am the one playing next to you. And I say you are the best adc in the world.”
Suhwan’s eyes widen before he hastily jerks his head away. He clears his throat a little too loudly, trying to compose himself, but the deep crimson creeping up the tips of his ears betrays him completely.
Goddamn. Who knew having such a cute younger boyfriend could be this dangerous?
“…I’ll work hard to live up to your expectations,” Suhwan finally says, his voice is small,
“I’ll win this one.”
but the resolve behind it is unmistakable.
Minseok smiles fondly, giving his cheek one last gentle pat before letting his hand fall away.
“It’s not just your job to win this thing, silly. It’s ours. We’ll work hard and win this together.”
He pauses when he notices Suhwan’s grip tightening around his own knees.
“…Besides, even if we don’t win this one, we’ll just win the next tournament.”
Suhwan instantly turns back to him, his brows furrowing. “…Hyung, why are you bringing up losing right when you just got me fired up?” he grumbles softly.
“Well—” Minseok opens his mouth to explain.
It’s a lesson he’s learned over the years.
Back when he’d been obsessed with winning above everything else, that obsession had eventually turned into pressure—pressure that suffocated him the moment victory slipped even a little farther away. Somewhere along the way, he’d realized it was healthier to focus solely on the game itself while treating both victory and defeat with the same steady mindset.
It was the only way he’d found to keep himself standing.
But then again… Suhwan has consistently been their most solid player throughout all these matches. He doesn't need Minseok's coping mechanisms. So Minseok swallows the lecture before it can leave his mouth, replacing it with a confident grin instead.
“Damn. Losing really is doing bad for us huh. I guess it doesn’t fit us well. Let’s stop doing that.”
Suhwan stares at him for a moment of silence before he speaks again.
“I hate losing,” he mutters. “But what I hate even more is watching everyone else think they can get close to what’s mine.”
”…”
Oh?
A mischievous thought intrudes Minseok’s head, hearing his boyfriend being this fierce.
“In that case… why just mark my uniform?”
Suhwan blinks, momentarily speechless. Color immediately rushes to his face as he realizes exactly where Minseok is trying to steer the conversation.
He lets out a long sigh as he shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hyung. You’re such a tease. You know we can’t do that in the middle of a tournament.”
Minseok only laughs, leaning in with his teasing smile that Suhwan has never been able to resist. The younger instinctively glides his chair backward, but Minseok catches the armrest before he can put any more distance between them.
They’re suddenly close enough to hear each other’s breathing. Minseok can smell the rich, delicious scent of coffee radiating off the young alpha, seeping through the layers of suppressants. A sudden spark of heat flashes through Minseok's chest—and he really, really can’t help feeling a little excited.
He must have unconsciously let a stray leak of his own pheromones slip out in his excitement, because Suhwan’s eyes suddenly flash with alertness. Biting his lower lip, the younger averts his eyes as he lets out a strained exhale.
Another wicked thought flashes through Minseok’s mind. He can feel Suhwan’s dark eyes tracking his gaze, dropping straight down to those bitten lips.
That should be me doing that, the wicked thought says, as he leans in closer and closer.
With their faces now only a few centimeters apart, Suhwan finally crumbles down to his very last line of defense.
“Hyung. But we can’t—hmph—“
Too late.
Minseok’s heart hammers wild and fast as their lips meet. A gasp slips from him as Suhwan suddenly takes control—tilting his head to deepen the kiss while one hand comes up to cradle the back of Minseok’s neck, drawing him closer.
Huh?
Did mating actually link their minds?
Because in an instant, Minseok can feel a sharp surge of residual agitation radiating from Suhwan’s side—restless alpha energy that gradually begins to soothe and quiet down under his touch. It feels like Minseok is actively grounding him through the storm of his own instinct.
It’s not like they have kissed a lot since becoming mates. They barely have room to breathe with their unforgiving schedule, but somehow, this moment feels just like coming home. Strange how compatibility works for them.
When Minseok finally pulls away, Suhwan has already opened his eyes, quietly gazing into his face.
“Hm?” Minseok tilts his head, curious, yet unable to wipe the giddy smile off his face.
“…Hyung is so pretty. I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
Goddamn. Minseok is well-versed in all kinds of cheesy lines and flirting. What Suhwan just said is basically a textbook cliche, but what makes it hit so differently is the earnestness in his voice. As expected, Suhwan is too good at landing a critical hit.
Before a coherent thought can even form in his head, Minseok finds himself leaning in again, pressing a soft kiss near the corner of the younger boy’s lips.
“Yeah, just like how you’re mine,” he whispers against his skin, then he pulls away.
“But can you please leave the sulking to me from now on? I’m really not good at dealing with a sulking boyfriend, you know.”
A quiet laugh immediately rumbles beneath Minseok’s palm.
“Sorry, hyung. But you’re kinda cute when you’re trying your best.”
Minseok puts on a playful pout, shifting his grip from cupping Suhwan's face to giving his cheek a light pinch.
“Cute,” Suhwan repeats softly, his gaze never leaving Minseok’s. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll make sure you’re the only one in charge of sulking from now on. I’ll take good care of you.”
Oh. And just like that, there goes the usual, mature Suhwan.
The truth is, Minseok secretly enjoyed seeing that childish side of Suhwan today. It is always thrilling to discover a brand-new facet of his partner—and knowing he is the only one capable of bringing it out makes it even sweeter.
There’s a fluttering feeling in his chest when he thinks about it—that Suhwan is probably the only person in the world who could ever bring that different side out of Minseok as well.
Minseok hums back, matching the smile blooming across the handsome face in front of him.
“I’ll make sure to take full advantage of that sulking privilege…”
He knows he is definitely going to miss that rare sulky side of him. Oh well.
“…But first, let me be the hyung and treat you to some macarons while we’re here in Paris.”
Minseok can have every side of Suhwan he could ever want, anyways. The gentle and dependable, mature Suhwan. The possessive and sulky, childish Suhwan. His cute and pretty Suhwan.
They’re all his, after all.
When Hyeonjun enters the practice room, he immediately notices the distinct lack of distance between the botduo. They are sitting together on the couch, both absorbed in their phones, but this time they are pressed close enough that their resting hands are almost touching.
Looks like they made up already, Hyeonjun concludes. How boring.
He walks over and sinks into his rolling chair. Minseok notices him right away and throws a smug smirk straight at his face.
“So the show’s over already?” Hyeonjun groans lightly, leaning back. “I was really looking forward to seeing Minseokie crawl on his knees for another day or two.”
Minseok’s smug smirk transforms into a glare. “Keep dreaming, bro.”
“What a complete waste of leverage,” Hyeonjun sighs, shaking his head at Suhwan. “Suhwan-ah, you need to learn how to exploit your advantage while you have it. That guy is ten times more whipped than he lets on.”
Suhwan tilts his head, blinking, face a mask of unbothered innocence.
“Huh?”
“Don’t mind, Suhwan-ah. He’s just desperate for attention.” Minseok cuts in quickly, swatting at the air in Hyeonjun’s direction.
Hyeonjun lets out a mocking scoff. “‘Desperate for attention’? Sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience.”
The support answers with nothing but a dramatic side-eye roll and a middle finger held high in the air.
Suhwan ignores the whole thing and hums thoughtfully. “Speaking of which… I’m actually starving. Is Paris McDonald’s any different from home? Or maybe we should find some good pizza place.”
Minseok’s head instantly snaps toward him, his eyes sparkling in a way that makes Hyeonjun want to throw up.
“We can test both!” Minseok chirps. “Suhwan-ah. Should we go get some right now? Or I can just have the manager order a bunch delivered straight to our room!”
Suhwan glances over with a small smirk on his lips. “You paying, hyung?”
“Is that even a question? I’m your boyfriend! Whatever you want, it’s on me!”
From across the room, Hyeonjun just watches the whole pathetic display, letting out another incredulous scoff. It really is true what they say—people in love are completely blind to how ridiculous they look from the outside.
Ryu Minseok is a certified hopeless simp for his adc.
Kim Suhwan is definitely nowhere near as clueless as he plays himself out to be.
And it seems like Hyeonjun is just going to have to suffer through watching the strange, newfound dynamic for the rest of his career.
“Unbelievable,” the jungler mutters, rolling his eyes at his support.
“He’s way beyond saving.”