Work Text:
When Seungmin tells his friends – hands twisting in apprehension under the library table and books open yet forgotten in front of him – they do not even pretend to look excited. Jeongin has not bothered to as much as raise his eyes from his AP Physics book. Instead, he wordlessly reaches out to pat shoulder Seungmin’s shoulder lightly and mumbles an indistinct “congratulations,” before returning to his task of colouring his page pink with his highlighter.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, cracks an almost sincere smile before sighing wistfully in the direction of Jisung’s back three tables away.
“That’s it?” Seungmin sputters incredulously with a prick of disappointment. Surely a new development in his love life warranted a larger reaction.
Jeongin shrugs absentmindedly.
“We all knew it was going to happen sooner than later,” Jeongin says, eyes still glued to his book. He points at Hyunjin with his highlighter, “Not everyone pines agonisingly from afar for years, like this annoying prick here.”
“I am not pining,” Hyunjin replies, grimacing and dragging his eyes away. “I’m just waiting for the right time to approach him.” At his table, Han Jisung, unaware, is nodding along to the song presumably playing in his headphones, twirling his pen in his fingers.
Jeongin finally looks up to pass Seungmin a deadpanned look. “See.”
"But it's hyung and I," Seungmin stresses, begging them to understand. Don’t you see how unfitting it is? Minho hyung choosing me when he could have anyone?
"And?" Hyunjin questions and Seungmin blinks blankly at their confused stares.
The beat of silence stretches a beat too long before Jeongin gives up trying to decrypt Seungmin's meaning. He pinches the bridge of his nose and snaps his book shut.
"You and hyung are like– more domestic than half the couples I know," he says, "You will live together, you both wait for each other after class to go home together. You have scheduled dates every Friday–”
"They aren't dates, we just–" Seungmin protests but Jeongin raises his voice.
"–you have taken flowers to each and every one of his showcases and I'm sure he packed food for you like he has done every time you have stayed late to study with us for the last three years."
Seungmin opens his mouth to defend himself and then promptly closes it, at a loss for words,
"And I'm sure you guys haven't dated anyone in the last two years, which I know doesn't necessarily mean commitment, but if Changbin's and Chan's scarred testaments are anything to go by, you have been sleeping together exclusively for the same amount of time."
Seungmin face colours.
Jeongin massages his temple and then with a softer, yet infinitely tired tone says, "So no, hyung. I'm not surprised. I am happy for you but you and Minho hyung have been a given for a long while now."
But it is different, Seungmin itches to confess.
"What Jeongin means to say," Hyunjin says catching his unconvinced expression, "Minho hyung is graduating in six months so we all expected you both to finally go official before that."
"We could have just drifted apart," Seungmin says, picking at the skin around his nails, but Hyunjin and Jeongin simultaneously snort.
"You are overthinking this hyung. You and hyung love each other too much for that," Jeongin says, disgust etched on his features as if Seungmin had not seen him sucking faces with Beomgyu mere hours ago. "You both are sometimes on the same wavelength to an extent that it is creepy. It is like you are made for each other."
"But we are so different," Seungmin complains.
"Yeah, but you fit together," Hyunjin says, waving his fingers in the air. "You know like opposites attract, the sun and moon and whatnot."
"Yeah and whatnot," Seungmin replies dragging his books back towards him.
Their reassurances fall on deaf ears.
It had perhaps begun when Seungmin as a fresh-faced freshman had embarrassed himself in front of Minho, his assigned roommate by dropping his boxes while too eagerly trying to shake his hand. Or a week later, when Minho smoked silently next to Seungmin on the open porch when the party he had been dragged to had proved too much for him.
Maybe it had been the movie night that had ended with Seungmin on his back and Minho’s lips scorching his skin. Or the day after when Minho had intertwined Seungmin’s finger with his to stop them from involuntarily picking the skin around his nails.
Or perhaps, it had been last week, when Minho had asked if the dinner they were currently having should be labelled a date and Seungmin had selfishly given in.
Let me have this, Seungmin had prayed to whoever was listening, I won't fuck it up. I won't fuck him up either.
The Moon and Sun.
Like the sun, Minho calls attention to himself, lighting up the room where ever he goes. There is light in his eyes when he wakes up, and energy still thrumming in his body when he drags Seungmin home. Seungmin finds him in the middle of crowded rooms at parties and the centre of praise among the university gossip. He fills his pockets with candies for the children that visit the veterinary clinic he part-times at and brings along with home stray cats on cold nights.
Minho has an effortless charm and a soft heart that he wears on his sleeves. He drags everyone in his orbit and Seungmin is tugged along, helpless, just another of his staunch satellites.
And what is the moon, if not a reflection of the sun’s own brilliance?
Seungmin is also cutting wit and dry humour. He gets too upset and too scared, feels too much and shows too little. He avoids crowds and craves routines. He gets frighteningly competitive and obsessively dedicated to the things he pursues. He overthinks and burns and crashes. He yearns for too much, takes and devours and never gives enough back.
What could the moon have to offer the sun anyway?
Seungmin takes every good thing and watches as it falls apart in the safety of his palms.
When Seungmin arrives at the art building, he finds Minho with the dance team huddled in the parking lot, shivering in the cold. Jaehyun spots him first and raises his hand to wave at him before elbowing Minho and nodding in his direction.
Minho smiles and shuffles to meet him halfway and the storm brewing in Seungmin's head calms.
"Why are you out in the open when you know the temperature is sub-zero today, hyung," Seungmin hisses at Minho, removing his scarf to tie around his neck.
"Was waiting for the transport with the team," He breathes out, his warm breath fanning over Seungmin's face. His nose and cheeks are coloured red and his sheepish smile has Seungmin wanting to kiss him, sweet and desperate.
But they are standing among Minho’s friends and Seungmin is unaware of the extent of what Minho has shared with them. Seungmin does not want to inadvertently create difficulties for him. Seungmin is still debating on whether to surge forward or break away when Minho takes the decision from his hands and pulls Seungmin in with a hand at the nape of his neck.
They only break away when Jungwoo hollers at them, "Minho, aren't you coming?"
"Were you going somewhere?" Seungmin asks puzzled, looking back between Minho and his dance team, his heart sinking forebodingly.
Minho grimaces but it is Yeonjun who chimes in, "Soonyoung hyung just opened a studio so he was throwing a party to celebrate. Do you want to tag along Seungminnie? Soonyoung hyung won't mind."
"You are like an honorary team member at this point anyways," Jaehyun snorts and Seungmin ducks his head to hide his abashed smile, excuses to escape already forming on the top of his tongue. However, before he has an opportunity to say anything, Minho is stepping forward and looping his arm around Seungmin's waist.
He does not look at Seungmin when he says, "You guys go ahead. Seungmin and I are supposed to go on a date."
Date.
Seungmin can picture it right now. Sitting on the couch as the movie Minho had been excited to watch plays uselessly in the back.
Seungmin would hold himself carefully through the first half and then the voices in his head would win the upper hand. His mind would run in spirals and his hands and feet would lose their warmth. And when he would attempt to excuse himself because he can feel his breath turning laboured, Minho would latch onto me.
He would meticulously tear down Seungmin's walls until Seungmin is voicing every dark and bleak thought in his head; his mother's beliefs, his sister's toxic marriage and her tendency to overshare and not heed his advice, his own declining bank balance and uncertainties about his future.
And Minho would listen, would lay Seungmin's head on his chest, over his heart and run his fingers through his hair. He would reassure and talk until Seungmin's head calmed for the day and the storm ebbed away.
"You guys fit", Jeongin had said. But has it not always merely been Minho giving, and Seungmin being too selfish to turn him away?
Seungmin steps back, breaking away from Minho's embrace.
"I actually came to tell you I can't make it. Jisung said the audio file got corrupted and I need to rerecord my parts."
Minho's eyebrows stitch together.
"You came all the way to the science building to tell me that? It's cold and Arts block is three blocks away. You could have texted me."
"Maybe I just wanted to see you," Seungmin replies cheerfully, hoping Minho is unable to see through, or kind enough to overlook his bluff.
Minho's frown deepens and he steps back into Seungmin's space. The rest of the dance team politely avert their eyes.
"You know I would rather spend the evening with you, right?" Minho says and Seungmin feels his resolve shake. It would be so much better to end the day within his arms, to lighten his body by spilling every dark thought in the space between them.
However, Minho's graduation is half a year away. He should be out enjoying himself with his friends, not sitting at his home and babysitting his boyfriend. H does not doubt that Minho loves him, but the twisted voices in Seungmin's head are not his burden to bear. And he may put up with it now, but who is to know Minho gets too tired of his shit. It's a miracle it has not come to that already and if by some glitch in the universe, Seungmin has scored Minho as a boyfriend, Seungmin is adamant about keeping him as long as he can.
It is better to absolve Minho from this responsibility anyways.
"I know," Seungmin whispers against his mouth before kissing him chastely, "but I have work, and your friends are waiting."
He does not look back when he walks back to the Arts building.
In the end, he decides against going to Jisung. Exhaustion is etched on his features and he is one word away from bursting into tears. Jisung would pick up on everything far too quickly and Seungmin feels against sparing one friend to burden the other.
He visits one of the vocal practice rooms and sings until his cords are raw and his mind numb. He ignores the messages on his phone, goes home a little too late and pretends to be asleep when Minho comes back.
Regardless, every day is not awful as this.
A week later, Seungmin wakes up and the sunlight is a tad warmer. He is less hesitant about touching Minho in public and needles him annoyingly to pay for ice cream in the middle of winter. He kisses Minho at Walmart and lets himself be dragged to another party by the dance team. He pulls Minho to dance in the snow and sneezes through the next week.
Better yet, he does not hear loud voices screaming that one could have been better than you for him, anyone would be better than you, when he watches a pretty stranger sliding up to Minho and being brushed off at the bar.
And Seugmin can reassure himself, see I can be unbroken too. I can live and love fully too. He can pretend he is not making a fool out of everyone including himself.
Not even a month later, his mother calls and everything comes back viciously.
He tucks the phone between his face and shoulder, dinner forgotten, and paces around the entire apartment.
She calls him her good boy and reprimands him for the major he chose three years ago. She talks about him and his sister, reinforces his fears and insecurities, and none of it is anything he has not heard before.
Seungmin hums and laughs at the right times. It is always easier and quicker to hear her out and end the conversation. He has given up trying to change her opinions a long time back. If anything, he is more conscious of Minho's worried eyes following him around. He feels shame colour his face and cold seep into his skin the longer the call goes on and the more concerned Minho seems.
The silence after he wires her money and puts his phone down is suffocating. The air around him becomes denser and shame clogs his throat. He lowers his head to let his hair hang over his eyes and wishes Minho had not been home to witness the spectacle Seungmin makes of himself.
"What did she want?" Minho says, his soft voice loud in the silent room. Because Minho does not need to ask who it is, knows what gets Seungmin like this.
However, when he reaches to intertwine his fingers with Seungmin, after the initial brush of comfort, Seungmin feels the shame rebound and the guilt eat away in his stomach like acid.
Look at poor Seungminnie, he thinks, another day and another problem.
"You know the usual," Seungmin replies, shaking his head and drawing his fingers away from Minho's grip. Because at the end of the day, it is nothing unusual. Seungmin has dealt with this before and he knows how to deal with it now. There is no need to drag Minho into his issues.
He does not miss the hurt on Minho's face and his intestines tighten further at his expression.
Seungmin grips his knife with his shaky hands and goes back to cutting the meat he has no further appetite for.
"Do you want to go to the new Thai restaurant that opened down the block for our Friday?"
"Seungminnie–"
"Hyunjin says it is great," Seungmin continues, because he cannot bear to hear Minho's concern and kindness without scattering at Minho's feet and embedding his broken being into Minho's unblemished skin. "We should go."
Let it go hyung, Seungmin pleads with Minho with his eyes, let us enjoy this night like we were supposed to before I came and ruined it as I do with everything I touch. Just as I'm bound to ruin us.
He feels awful at the dirty tactic but what is Minho if not indulgent to Seungmin's requests?
However, even after Minho nods with his eyes trained on his food, and mumbles, "alright," the guilt and shame churn relentlessly in his abdomen all the same.
Somedays, a part of him screams to let Minho know, exhausted by all the hiding and pretending. Begs him to allow to soak in comfort in Minho's words and arms after a hard day.
He knows you, the voices whisper, he wouldn't be here if he didn't accept you as you were. He was there before and he would want to know now too.
But it didn't matter much in the beginning, another part of him adds, There was never this much at stake. What if it is too much for him? What if he gets tired? What if he leaves? Could you bear that?”
Then, he will leave, the first voice reasons, Isn't it better to rip the band-aid off?
What if he stays because he feels obligated to? What happens when I start holding him back?
At the end of the day, though, Seungmin is too cowardly and too selfish. Even if they are bound to break up in the end, Seungmin wants it to last as long as it can.
Sleep does not come that night. The doubt and his insecurities eat away from the inside until they are boiling right under the surface. Until he wants to rake his nails and shred his skin to free turmoil out in the open. His heart flutters in his chest like a frightened bird and the covers he is supposed to be under encircle his limbs like vines.
His chest does not expand and despite his best efforts he cannot draw in sufficient air. He suffocates and he resists the urge to scream, to claw out his own hair, and lash out at himself.
But there is nothing to do except to stay still and silent because Minho is asleep peacefully mere inches away and Seungmin would be damned if he let the chaos in his head wake the other man up.
It's almost dawn when Seungmin slips away from their bed to the bathroom down the hall instead of the one attached to the bedroom.
He dry heaves until his abdomen is heavy and tender, until the taste of bile at the back of his throat is all he knows. He digs his nails into his scalp until his fingertips come back stained red. He stuffs his tie into his mouth deeper and deeper and screams until his throat is raw. and until his head is finally numb.
He stumbles back to their room only to find Minho walking out of the door with his eyes wide and his shaking body covered by a measly thin sleeveless shirt. He raises his arm and then, lowers it to fist his hand in his trousers.
"You weren't in bed," is what he offers in explanation.
"My god," Seungmin scolds him. "Why are you out of bed? It is two degrees outside and you are shaking like a leaf."
He attempts to wrap his hand across Minho's forearm to tug him to the warm bed but Minho moves out of the way at the last minute, twisting so that he is instead folding his fingers around Seungmin's wrist and restraining him in their doorway.
"What happened to your voice?" he insists.
"My voice? Nothing. I just went to the bathroom." Seungmin tugs at his hand harder but Minho does not relent, standing in the doorway like an immovable statue. "Come on hyung, it's cold, let's go back inside."
"Bathroom?" Minho replies incredulously, "We have one attached to our room. Why go all the way to one across the apartment."
"Hyung, please." Seungmin hates how his voice sounds. Pleading, fragile. One wrong word away from shattering.
There is pain etched in the crease between Minho's eyebrows and hurt around the curl of his mouth. The rigidness however bleeds out from his shoulders and he pliantly allows Seungmin to pull him under covers.
The way it crashes down has an eerie resemblance to how it all started.
Minho is frying eggs and Seungmin is setting the table when he speaks, small and serious, not looking up from where he is needlessly poking the eggs with the spatula, "Did I mess this up?"
Seungmin frowns. "Mess what up?"
"Us," Minho says hollowly, his eyes downcast and the edges of his lips downturned.
An unnecessary and aggressive poke with the spatula has the yolk spilling out into the pan and Seungmin wordlessly tugs the spatula out of Minho's grasp and plates the eggs before the rest of them meet the same fate.
Minho grips the counter until his knuckles turn pale.
"Hyung, you are literally the boyfriend of my dreams," Seungmin says, unsure of where the conversation was heading.
It is not like Minho to deprecate or doubt himself. Unlike Seungmin, he is comfortable in his own skin and knows how to charm his way through conflicts. The meek way he holds his limbs around his body and the way his shoulders curve inward has a pit of worry expanding in his belly. "Is there something wrong hyung?"
Minho snaps his head toward him and the agony in his voice and wetness in the corner of his eyes has Seungmin reeling, "You tell me Seungmin, is there wrong?"
Seungmin had not realised this thing between them had already started cracking.
"No," he denies vehemently, digging his nails into Minho's elbow but it only has Minho’s expression pinching further.
"Then, why don't you talk to me anymore?"
Seungmin gapes at him. Opens his mouth and closes it. "I do talk to you though," He says, aimlessly stringing together words. Anything to wipe the misery on Minho's features that he seemed to have a hand in. "I spent two hours yesterday dissing that–"
"Exactly though," he interjects sharply, "You talk about the movie you liked, about the neighbours having loud sex. You ask about my day but– but you don't talk about yourself anymore."
Of course, Minho had noticed the line Seungmin had been hellbent on drawing.
"I'm not asking you to tell me everything going on in your life. But– but Seungmin, you used to talk to me. You told me your fears. You told me when you felt awful. You didn't avoid me after a bad day and you let me comfort you."
The more Minho talks, the lesser the bite becomes in his words. Instead, when his voice begins to crack, it almost sounds desperate and frenzied. A stray tear slips from the corner of his eyes and his breathing is laboured when he stops to draw in air.
But Seungmin could not protest even if wanted to. His tongue is heavy in his mouth and his limbs are paralyzed at his sides. He had assumed by veiling the worst parts of himself, he had been sparing Minho the trouble and the effort.
Evidently, that was not how Minho saw it.
When the silence stretches and it becomes apparent that Seungmin would not answer, Minho breathes in deeply, wipes his eyes with his sleeve, and continues in a steadier voice, "Did I do something? Did I go wrong somewhere? We were so good together, and I asked you out because I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I thought by cementing our relationship I would get to keep you. I was so happy when you agreed, but– but I feel like, ever since then, you keep drawing away. You don't touch me as often and sometimes you hold yourself as if you are scared. And I don’t know what I did to lose your trust, where I went so horribly wrong that you–"
It is the vulnerability and the boundless agony in his words that have Seungmin moving. Was this exactly not what he had been trying to protect them from?
"No, hyung, it is not your fault. You have literally been perfect. I–"
"No, no, you don't get to do this to me anymore." Minho chokes, breaking away from Seungmin, distressfully shaking his head. "Stop it. You don't have to protect me any more.”
"Just tell me how to fix this," he says
"Please, I don't want to lose you," he pleads.
And who is Seungmin if not indulgent to Minho's wishes?
"I have been just a little scared, I suppose," Seungmin says slowly, playing with his fingers, unsure how to explain the disarray in his head without sounding crazy. "It is like, sometimes, there is rot in my head. I can't trust myself, I can't trust my head and I despise everything sometimes."
The words clog his throat and voices in his head scream at him to stop before it is too late, before Minho realises how much of a fuck up he has tethered himself to. But Minho's eyes, despite their wetness, are wholly attentive and tender behind the cloud of pain. And Seungmin, greedy and selfish, has been yearning for his comfort for so long.
"My skin feels foreign and my body not my own. Every criticism is heavy on my shoulders and exhaustion makes a home in the core of my bones. And I know you know most of it because you have been there, but I don't want you to feel obligated to shoulder my faults. I don't want you to sit out on things you enjoy just because my head decided to have a bad day."
"I don't feel– I don't do things for you because I feel obligated," Minho says gently, reaching to where Seungmin is pulling at the skin near his nails and interviewing their fingers. "I do them because I love you. I do them because I want to."
"But until when?" Seungmin presses, his voice strained and eyes burning, "How long before you get sick of all these breakdowns and unnecessaries worries? How long until you get sick of me?"
Minho groans as if it physically pains him to listen to him. Seungmin tilts his head to stare at the floor.
"You think I listen to your problems because I'm nice?" Minho questions, voice saturated with disbelief, "You think I want to be around you when you are unhappy and anxious because I have a noble heart?"
He gives Seungmin's shoulder a little shake as if he could rattle the absurd thoughts out from Seungmin's head.
"I'm selfish Seungmin. I do this for myself. My heart feels fulfilled when I have you laughing in my arms. I breathe easier when you allow me to comfort you."
Warm fingers trace the arch of Seungmin's cheekbones, the curve of his eyebrows and the reddening tips of his ears. Minho presses his thumb under his chin until Seungmin is forced to look upwards directly into Minho's dilated pupils.
"I like that out of everyone you come to me with your problems. You are home to me and is it really hard to believe that I want to be that for you?"
How is Seungmin supposed to fight that sentiment? How is he supposed to return such sincerity?
Seungmin surges forward to kiss him. Allows their lips to meet even as Minho still tries to talk ahead, clanking their teeth together painfully. Arms wind around Seungmin's waist and teeth nip at his lips, and in turn, Seungmin weaves his hair at the back of Minho's head and tugs at it until he has adjusted the position of Minho's face to his liking. There is liquid fire in his veins instead of blood and an expansile contentment that replaces the weariness in his bones. Minho's mouth is searing hot and frantic, almost as if determined to prove the sincerity behind his love and words through his actions.
And despite his talents for articulation, all he can think of is, I love him, I love this man so much.
"I love you," Seungmin gasps between kisses and although there will be time for everything else later, he knows they will be alright.
Later, Seungmin will mold himself into Minho's lap and he will run his hands through his hair, nails scraping his scalp. Seungmin will talk about his mother and the rejections he has received. And Minho will listen and soothe his worries. They will talk about the expectations they have from their relationship and the future they aim to pursue.
But at that moment, Seungmin is just content with kissing Minho and being kissed in return.