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The classroom air was thick with the midday heat, hummed over by a buzzing ceiling fan that did next to nothing except slice through the warm, stagnant light.
Mingi rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his thumb tracing the worn edge of his wooden desk. He wasn’t listening to the lecture. He hadn't been listening for the past forty-five minutes. His eyes were glued—unwillingly, painfully—to the back of Yunho’s neck, right where his messy black hair curled just slightly over the collar of his uniform shirt.
Yunho was leaning forward, laughing at something Seonghwa had whispered from the row beside him. It was that effortless, low rumble of a laugh that Mingi knew better than anyone else in the world. They’d been inseparable since they were seven years old. Mingi knew every inflection of Yunho’s voice, the exact shade of brown his eyes turned in direct sunlight, and the way his shoulders twitched when he was trying to hide a smile.
He also knew the exact moment his own chest had started burning an hour ago, right in the school cafeteria.
“Did you hear about Yunho and Soojin?” someone at the next table had said over the clatter of plastic trays. “Apparently they used to date back in middle school. Someone saw them talking behind the gymnasium this morning—she was giving him a gift or something.”
“Wait, really? Soojin from Class 3? I thought Yunho was single.”
“They were definitely a thing. Everyone says she’s trying to get back together with him.”
The words had hooked into Mingi’s chest like barbed wire and yanked tight. He hadn't said a word. He’d just picked at his rice, his throat suddenly too dry to swallow, while Yunho sat right across from him, entirely oblivious, scrolling through his phone with that stupid, handsome, relaxed look on his face.
Now, as the bell finally rang to signal the end of the day, the sharp sound snapped Mingi out of his trance. Chairs scraped against the tile floor. Students began stuffing notebooks into their backpacks, chatter filling the hallway outside.
Yunho turned around in his seat, his wide, bright eyes landing instantly on Mingi. A soft, familiar smile spread across his face.
"Hey," Yunho said, resting his arms over the back of Mingi's chair, leaning into his space with the casual intimacy that had been their default for over a decade. "You've been out of it all afternoon, Min. What’s up? You sick?"
Mingi didn't look him in the eye. He reached down, grabbing his tote bag and shoving his pencil case inside with unnecessary force. "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine. You're quiet," Yunho observed, leaning closer, his brow furrowing with genuine concern. He reached out, his broad, warm hand brushing against Mingi’s forehead to check his temperature. "No fever..."
The touch sent an electric jolt straight down Mingi’s spine, but instead of leaning into it like he usually would, he flinched, pulling back abruptly.
Yunho’s hand froze in mid-air. His smile faltered, replaced by a look of quiet confusion. "Mingi?"
"I said I'm fine, Yunho," Mingi snapped, his voice rougher than he intended. He zipped his bag shut with a sharp zip, stood up so quickly his chair rattled against the floor, and swung the strap over his shoulder. "I'm just going home."
Before Yunho could answer, Mingi turned on his heel and walked straight out of the classroom, his heart hammering a frantic, angry rhythm against his ribs.
The walk home was a blur of muted colors and stifling heat. Mingi walked fast, his head down, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He hated himself for how he was acting. He hated that a stupid, unverified rumor about a middle-school ex-girlfriend had sent him spiraling into this bitter, suffocating state.
Because that was the core of it, wasn't it? They were best friends. Just best friends.
Yunho had every right to date whoever he wanted. He had every right to talk to his ex, to fall in love, to leave Mingi behind in the friendzone where he belonged. Mingi had been secretly in love with Yunho for three years—three excruciating years of watching other people look at Yunho, of holding Yunho’s hand under the pretense of "bro support," of falling asleep on Yunho’s shoulder during late-night movie marathons while pretending his heart wasn't trying to beat out of his chest.
He had buried those feelings so deep he thought they’d turned to dust. But hearing Soojin’s name today had dug them right back up, raw and bleeding.
When Mingi reached the porch of his apartment building, he heard heavy, rapid footsteps behind him on the pavement.
"Song Mingi! Wait!"
Mingi paused, his key hovering inches from the lock. He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath.
Yunho caught up, slightly out of breath, his cheeks flushed from running all the way from the school gate. He stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, staring up at Mingi.
"What are you doing?" Yunho asked, panting slightly, his eyes searching Mingi’s guarded face. "You ran off. You didn't wait for me. We always walk home together."
"I wanted to walk alone today," Mingi said, his tone flat, refusing to look down at him.
"Why?" Yunho took a step up the stairs, closing the distance between them. "Did I do something? Did I say something wrong at lunch? Talk to me, Min. You're acting like you hate me."
Hate you? Mingi thought bitterly. I'm losing my mind because I love you too much.
"You didn't do anything, Yunho. Just drop it." Mingi turned back to the door, shoving the key into the keyhole.
"No, I'm not dropping it," Yunho said firmly. Before Mingi could turn the lock, Yunho reached out, grasping Mingi’s wrist. His grip was firm, warm, and possessive, a familiar touch that suddenly felt overwhelming. "You're glaring at me, you won't make eye contact, and you pulled away from me in class. What is going on?"
Mingi tried to yank his wrist back, but Yunho held fast, stepping up onto the top step so he was standing right in front of Mingi, towering over him slightly, blocking the door.
"Let go," Mingi muttered, his lower lip trembling slightly.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong."
The stubbornness in Yunho’s eyes was the final straw. Something inside Mingi snapped. All the accumulated frustration, the secret longing, the bitter jealousy that had been festering in his throat all day erupted at once.
"I said let go!" Mingi shoved Yunho’s chest with his free hand.
Yunho stumbled back a step in surprise, releasing Mingi’s wrist. His eyes widened. "Mingi..."
"Why don't you go back to school?" Mingi spat out, his voice sharp and laced with poison, his chest heaving. "Go check behind the gymnasium! Maybe Soojin is still waiting for you with another present!"
Silence fell over the porch, heavy and suffocating.
Yunho stared at him, completely thrown off. He blinked once, twice, processing the name. "Soojin? What are you... wait. Is this about Soojin?"
"I don't care about Soojin! I don't care about your middle-school romance or whatever you two were doing behind the gym!" Mingi yelled, his throat burning, tears of frustration stinging the corners of his eyes. He hated how pathetic he sounded, but he couldn't stop the flood. "You could have just told me, Yunho! You don't have to hide it! If you're back together with your ex-girlfriend, just say so instead of acting like everything is normal!"
Yunho didn't answer right away. He just stood there, watching Mingi’s trembling shoulders, his furious, tear-rimmed eyes, and his clenched fists.
Slowly, the confusion on Yunho’s face melted away. A realization washed over his features, followed by something deep, dark, and intense that Mingi couldn't quite read.
"You think..." Yunho started, his voice dropping an octave, losing its usual cheerful brightness. He took a slow step toward Mingi. "You think I'm getting back together with Soojin?"
"Everyone in the cafeteria was talking about it!" Mingi snapped, backing up until his spine hit the door frame. "They said you two used to date, and she gave you something today—"
"Soojin is my cousin, Mingi."
Mingi froze.
The words hung in the air, crisp and absolute.
Mingi blinked, his mind coming to a screeching halt. "...What?"
"Soojin is my maternal cousin," Yunho repeated slowly, taking another step forward until he was standing directly in front of Mingi, close enough that Mingi could feel the heat radiating off his body. "She transferred to our school two weeks ago. She came behind the gym this morning to give me a sweater my aunt left at my house last weekend."
Mingi’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. The rage that had been fueling him instantly drained out, leaving behind a cold, embarrassing wave of humiliation.
"Your... cousin?" Mingi whispered, his face burning hot.
"My cousin," Yunho confirmed.
"She's... not your ex?"
"I have never dated Soojin in my life," Yunho said softly. "I don't know who started that stupid rumor in the lunchroom, but it's completely false."
Mingi wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He looked down at his shoes, his cheeks scorching red, his hands nervously clutching his bag strap. "Oh. I... I didn't..."
"Mingi."
Yunho’s voice wasn't warm anymore. It was quiet, heavy, and thick with an emotion Mingi had never heard from him before.
Before Mingi could apologize or try to brush it off, Yunho reached out, catching Mingi’s chin between his fingers and lifting his head up. Mingi was forced to look directly into Yunho’s eyes, and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.
Yunho wasn't angry. He wasn't laughing at him either.
His eyes were dark, intense, and burning with a fierce, possessive focus.
"Were you jealous?" Yunho asked softly, his thumb tracing the sharp line of Mingi’s jaw.
Mingi’s heart gave a violent leap. "I—no. I was just—"
"Don't lie to me," Yunho interrupted, his voice dropping into a low, commanding register that sent a shiver straight down Mingi’s spine. He stepped even closer, crowding Mingi against the door, his tall frame completely towering over him. "Look at me and tell me the truth. Were you jealous because you thought I was with someone else?"
Mingi swallowed hard, his hands trembling where they pressed lightly against Yunho’s chest to keep some distance. But Yunho didn't budge. He stayed planted, solid and warm, trapping Mingi in his orbit.
"It doesn't matter," Mingi choked out, trying to avert his eyes, but Yunho’s hand on his jaw held him firm.
"It matters to me," Yunho murmured, his gaze dropping down to Mingi’s trembling lips before rising back to meet his eyes. "It matters more than anything."
Mingi felt his resistance crumbling under the sheer weight of Yunho’s focus. He was so tired of hiding, so tired of holding it all in.
"Yes!" Mingi broke, his voice cracking, a single tear slipping past his lashes. "Yes, fine! I was jealous! I was terrified, okay? I thought—I thought you were moving on, that you were going to fall in love with someone else, and I'd just have to sit there and pretend to be happy for you!"
"Why would you be terrified of that?" Yunho asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb gently catching the tear rolling down Mingi’s cheek and wiping it away.
"Because I'm in love with you, you idiot!" Mingi cried out, his chest heaving, the confession tumbling out of him like a floodgate bursting open. "I've been in love with you for years! And it kills me every single day knowing we're just best friends—"
Mingi didn't get to finish his sentence.
Yunho leaned down and kissed him.
It wasn't a gentle, tentative first kiss. It was deep, desperate, and possessive. Yunho’s lips locked onto Mingi’s with an urgency that knocked the air straight out of Mingi’s lungs.
Mingi let out a soft, shocked gasp against Yunho’s mouth, his mind going completely blank. Before he could process what was happening, Yunho’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling Mingi flush against his body, lifting him slightly off his feet as he deepened the kiss.
Yunho’s other hand tangled into the soft hair at the back of Mingi’s neck, holding him right where he wanted him. He parted Mingi’s lips with his own, his tongue sliding in to taste him, hot and demanding, claiming every inch of Mingi’s mouth.
Mingi’s hands, which had been resting weakly on Yunho’s chest, clutched tightly into the fabric of Yunho’s uniform shirt. A low, helpless whimper escaped Mingi’s throat as he melted into the kiss, his knees going weak. He kissed back with all the pent-up longing, desperation, and love he had hoarded for three long years.
Yunho groaned into the kiss, a dark, needy sound that reverberated straight through Mingi’s chest. He pulled Mingi tighter against him, pressing him hard against the door, taking total control of the moment.
When Yunho finally pulled back for air, he didn't go far. He rested his forehead against Mingi’s, both of them breathing heavily, their hot breaths mingling in the cool late-afternoon shadow of the porch.
Mingi was dizzy, his lips swollen and red, his eyes wide as he stared at Yunho in absolute shock.
"Yunho..." Mingi breathed, his hands still clutching Yunho’s shirt. "What..."
"You really are an idiot, Song Mingi," Yunho murmured, his thumb running over Mingi’s lower lip, tracing the wet sheen left behind by their kiss. A soft, breathless laugh escaped Yunho’s throat, but his eyes remained dangerously intense. "You think I could ever look at anyone else? You think I’ve been staying this close to you for years just because we're 'best friends'?"
Mingi’s breath caught. "What do you mean?"
"I’ve been waiting for you," Yunho said, his voice raw with emotion. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Mingi’s mouth, then to his cheek, then to the shell of his ear, making Mingi shiver in his arms. "I’ve been waiting for you to look at me like I look at you. I was losing my mind trying to figure out how to tell you without scaring you away."
"You... you love me?" Mingi whispered, unable to believe the words coming out of his own mouth.
"I am completely, entirely insane about you," Yunho corrected softly, sliding his hands down to frame Mingi’s face, forcing Mingi to look at the unadulterated devotion in his eyes. "There is no one else. There has never been anyone else. It's only ever been you, Min."
A fresh tear spilled over Mingi’s lashes, but this time, a breathless smile broke across his face.
Yunho smiled back, relieved and radiant, leaning in to capture Mingi’s lips again in a slower, sweeter kiss that tasted like relief, warmth, and promises kept.
Yunho’s hands moved down, resting firmly on Mingi’s hips, hoisting him slightly so Mingi was sitting on the porch railing, bringing them flush level. Mingi wrapped his legs instinctively around Yunho’s waist, pulling him closer, burying his hands in Yunho’s soft dark hair as they kissed over and over again under the fading sun.
"Unlock the door," Yunho murmured against Mingi’s lips, his hands squeezing Mingi’s waist gently, a dark, low edge returning to his voice. "Let me inside."
Mingi didn't hesitate. Fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Yunho followed him inside, shutting the door behind them and locking it with a sharp click, sealing them away from the rest of the world.
Without a second of delay, Yunho pulled Mingi back into his arms, backing him up against the hallway wall. The bag dropped from Mingi’s shoulders, thudding onto the floor, completely forgotten.
Yunho’s hands were everywhere—sliding up under Mingi’s uniform shirt, his large, warm palms pressing against the bare skin of Mingi’s waist, sending spark after spark straight through Mingi’s veins. Mingi arched into the touch, a breathless gasp breaking from his mouth as Yunho trailing hot, bruised kisses down his jawline, down to his sensitive neck.
"Yunho..." Mingi whimpered, his fingers tightening in Yunho’s hair as Yunho bit gently into the pulse point at his neck, soothing it with his tongue immediately after.
"I'm never letting you go now, Min," Yunho growled softly against his skin, his hands gripping Mingi’s thighs to lift him up. "You're mine. You hear me? Yours."
Mingi wrapped his arms around Yunho’s broad shoulders, pulling him as close as humanly possible, his heart overflowing with a fierce, absolute certainty.
"I'm yours," Mingi whispered back, pressing his lips to Yunho’s temple. "I've always been yours."
Yunho carried Mingi down the short hallway into the bedroom, not breaking the kiss for more than a second to navigate the doorway.
When Mingi’s back hit the mattress, the sudden softness made him catch his breath, but before he could even settle, Yunho was over him. Yunho shifted his weight onto his knees, straddling Mingi’s hips, towering over him with a dark, heavy intensity that made Mingi’s breath hitch in his throat.
"Yunho..." Mingi breathed out, his hands reaching up instinctively to rest against Yunho’s broad chest, feeling the frantic, rapid thud of Yunho’s heart against his palms.
"I need you to say it again," Yunho murmured, his tone deep and demanding as he leaned down, pressing his lips to the corner of Mingi's mouth, then down to his jawline, leaving a trail of hot, lingering heat. "Tell me who you belong to."
Mingi’s lashes fluttered shut, a soft gasp escaping his lips as Yunho’s fingers dug firmly into his waist, holding him pinned beneath him. The absolute possession in Yunho’s voice sent a shiver straight down Mingi’s spine, melting away every last shred of doubt he had carried all afternoon.
"Yours," Mingi whimpered, arching his neck back to give Yunho better access. "Only yours, Yunho."
Yunho let out a low, satisfied growl that vibrated directly against Mingi’s skin. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on Mingi’s uniform shirt, pushing the crisp fabric aside to expose the pale, smooth expanse of Mingi's chest. Yunho paused for just a second, his dark eyes sweeping over Mingi's flushed cheeks, his swollen, kiss-bruised lips, and the soft rise and fall of his chest with an expression of sheer, unadulterated worship.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this," Yunho whispered, his thumb tracing the sharp curve of Mingi's collarbone before pressing a firm, bruising kiss right over his beating heart. "How many times I had to force myself to turn away, to act like I didn't want to tear your clothes off every time you smiled at me."
Mingi’s eyes snapped open, wide with surprise and pleasure. "You... you felt like that?"
"Every single day," Yunho confessed, leaning down so his lips hovered a breath away from Mingi's. He brought his hands up to frame Mingi’s face, his broad palms warm and grounding. "Every time you sat on my bed, every time you fell asleep on my shoulder... it was torture, Mingi. I was so terrified of losing you that I kept my mouth shut. But hearing you talk about someone else touching me today..." Yunho’s grip tightened slightly, his eyes darkening with that possessive fire again. "It almost drove me out of my mind."
"I hated it," Mingi admitted softly, his fingers tangling into the back of Yunho’s dark hair, pulling him down until their noses touched. "Thinking you were looking at someone else... I thought my chest was going to burst."
"There is no someone else," Yunho said fiercely, his voice heavy with promise. "There's never going to be anyone else."
Yunho captured Mingi’s lips once more, the kiss deeper, slower, and far more deliberate than before. He shifted his body, crowding Mingi completely into the mattress, taking control of every sensation. Mingi whined softly into the kiss, his legs parting instinctively to wrap tight around Yunho’s waist, bringing their hips flush together.
The heat between them was suffocating in the best way possible. Yunho’s hands moved down, sliding under the waistband of Mingi’s trousers, his large, calloused palms pressing against the small of Mingi's back, pulling him up hard against him. Mingi gasped at the contact, his fingers gripping Yunho’s broad shoulders for leverage as a wave of intense pleasure washed over him.
"Look at me, Min," Yunho commanded softly, pulling back just enough to look into Mingi’s eyes.
Mingi opened his eyes, heavy-lidded and glossy with tears of pure sensation.
Yunho smiled, a rare, dangerous smile full of affection and absolute ownership. He reached down, intertwining his fingers with Mingi's, locking their hands together beside Mingi’s head, pressing them firm into the pillows.
"You're never going to doubt me again," Yunho murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Mingi’s forehead, then his eyelids, then the tip of his nose, before locking their lips together once more in a slow, deep consume. "I'm going to make sure you remember every single second of who you belong to."