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Seungmin should’ve stayed home, and he knew it damn well the moment Jooyeon texted him about ‘an AMAZING plan’ they ‘get to do for Valentine's Day!’ That sentence alone was an outright red flag shoved right in his face. Jooyeon’s plans were never ‘amazing,’ and they almost exclusively involved Jooyeon and Jiseok getting whatever they wanted out of the situation while Seungmin got to essay the role of third wheel, or even fifth wheel, if you will, on a car rushing towards madness.
Now here he is, seated in a cosy café and trying not to die of sheer awkwardness. His lavender sweater (the one Jooyeon bullied him into wearing because “it’s soft, you’re soft, and Valentine’s is a soft day, stop being such a sad sack, Seungmin”) feels like it’s choking him. He tugs at the collar as his eyes dart around the tiny round table that’s much too small for four grown men. Except there aren’t four men here right now. He’s stuck with just one – Kim Jungsu, the same handsome boy from one of Jiseok’s classes (English one, he believes) Seungmin has been silently drooling over for about a month now.
Jungsu is… well, Jungsu might be the most ethereal person Seungmin has ever been forced to sit across from. It’s a little revolting because no one should be allowed to look that effortlessly hot in a simple, stretched-out T-shirt (with the Nirvana logo on it, of-freaking-course) without even wearing a single accessory other than round-framed glasses. His blond hair curls just enough to look stylishly windswept without crossing into manic pixie territory, and those lips… Okay, Seungmin is not going to think about those lips or the fact that Jungsu is smiling at him in that innocent, oh-I’m-just-a-polite-human-being way that makes Seungmin want to swallow his tongue. Like, damn, who even smiles like that? Who makes it for free? It should be illegal.
Meanwhile, those two traitors (a.k.a. Jooyeon and Jiseok) have been in the restroom for at least five minutes. Actually, Seungmin isn’t really sure it’s been five minutes; it might’ve been ten. Time has warped itself around his suffering, stretching and contracting like bubblegum. His cheeks grow hotter every second, and he’s somewhere between having absolutely no thoughts in his head, overwhelmed by the sight of his crush, and thinking too much about what unspeakable things his so-called best friends are doing in the café restroom right now.
Seungmin desperately hopes they aren’t doing anything that a clueless child could think of, something that would end up with an administrative fine or several days of detention. But what else could possibly take that long? They’d been giggling like middle schoolers the entire way there, clearly up to something. Knowing them, it was probably some unholy mixture of a terrible idea and public humiliation.
“Uh, Seungmin?” Jungsu’s voice cuts through his mental spiral, soft and lilting. Seungmin flinches and feels his back stiffen. Wonderful. So now he looks like some inept robot. Great job, Seungmin.
“Y-yeah?” he croaks, voice cracking in a particularly embarrassing way. God, kill him now. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Jungsu tilts his head slightly, blonde bangs falling across his forehead. “I said I like your sweater. It’s cute.”
Seungmin blinks, brain short-circuiting. “Oh.”
Real articulate there, genius.
“Thanks,” he manages after what feels like an eternity. “Jooyeonnie made me wear it today.”
He doesn’t know why he says that. Blurting out things like ‘Jooyeon dressed me because I have no spine’ isn’t exactly the way to show Jungsu he’s a functional adult with social skills. But, then again, he probably wasn’t fooling anyone on that front anyway.
His fingers tug at the cuffs of his sweater as his ears burn.
Jungsu smiles wider, and Seungmin hates him a little for it. Does he have to smile like that? Does he have to look like one of those angels off some ancient fresco? It’s unfair. Grossly unfair. Even worse, Jungsu doesn’t seem to be aware of his devastating unfairness; he’s sitting there with his smooth skin and rich-boy posture, sipping casually at his ludicrously pink smoothie as if there isn’t one flustered guy on the other side of the table imploding into a puddle of nerves. Then he leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table.
“Lavender really suits you,” he goes on. “It’s a nice colour. Do you wear it a lot?”
Why the hell is this guy so good at small talk? Seungmin can’t even get over the first part of the compliment, and now there’s more? More words? Strung together like Jungsu didn’t just say something that planted a small, relentless seed of chaos in Seungmin’s chest?
Seungmin’s fingers keep fidgeting restlessly with the edges of his sweater, and he hopes it looks casual and not like he’s on the verge of bolting out of the café. He clears his throat, trying to match Jungsu’s level of politeness and naturalness and utterly failing.
“Uh. Thanks. Again. I guess I don’t usually wear stuff like this. Jooyeonnie said it was fitting for…” He waves vaguely. “You know. Valentine’s.”
“Oh,” Jungsu replies, his gaze lingering on Seungmin’s sweater just long enough to make Seungmin’s skin prickle. “That’s cute. I mean, it’s nice to dress up sometimes, right?”
Seungmin isn’t sure what to do with that. It’s the word ‘cute’ again. What does Jungsu mean by it? Is this guy just naturally like this? Did he take a class on how to charm people last semester? Probably not, because Jungsu doesn’t seem calculating; he seems painfully, unbelievably genuine. Which makes everything worse.
Before Seungmin can gather his shit together and figure out how to stop stumbling over the simplest words possible, his attention is suddenly drawn to a couple settling down at the next table. The girl kisses the guy on the cheek, and the two of them look so happily in love, and… His gaze flickers back to Jungsu, who’s still looking at him with polite curiosity, and then it strikes him that this whole situation must be so weird for Jungsu. He doesn’t seem nervous or awkward, but come on. He’s probably wondering exactly why Jiseok dragged him out here to babysit his sad little friend who’s inarguably one lonely Valentine’s Day away from swan-diving into bitter resignation.
Seungmin’s face grows hotter.
“Sorry,” he mutters, staring at his hands. “I’m not good at this.”
“At what?” Jungsu asks as he tilts his head again. The way he does that… He always seems to incline slightly toward the person he’s talking to, like he’s genuinely interested. He’s so good at making people feel seen that it’s a bit scary.
“You know.” Seungmin twists his wrist, not meeting Jungsu’s eyes. “Talking. To new people. This whole thing. I didn’t even know this was supposed to be a double date, by the way. Jooyeonnie just dragged me out. I thought there would be three of us. Which couldn’t help but be upsetting, because I’m tired of feeling like the odd one out between these two nasty lovebirds.”
Jungsu lets out a soft chuckle.
“Yeah, Jiseok didn’t tell me much either. He just told me there’d be good drinks and good company.” He pauses, offering another one of those subtle, angelic smiles like it’s nothing. “I feel like he was right, though.”
Seungmin stares at him, stomach twisting into a knot.
Okay.
What the hell.
Is Jungsu… flirting with him? That can’t be right. Jungsu doesn’t even seem like the kind of guy who would like Seungmin much, per se. Maybe he’s just so naturally charming that everything feels like flirting, when really he’s just being mildly nice, and Seungmin is teetering on the edge of existential crisis.
“Uh.” Seungmin coughs, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. “Well, the good drinks part was definitely a lie. This place is… yeah.”
He gestures weakly toward the half-empty mug in front of him. The coffee is probably fine, but he needs some excuse to shift the conversation away from whatever the hell Jungsu just said, and Jungsu laughs softly again (God, even his laugh sounds melodic) and takes another sip of his smoothie, as if everything’s just fine and normal and this isn’t the most frazzled Seungmin has ever felt in his life.
For a moment, the silence sprawls between them. It’s not long enough to be unbearable, but just long enough that Seungmin glances toward the restroom with a simmering glare. If Jooyeon and Jiseok don’t show up soon, he’s going to kill them. At least he’ll give them the silent treatment for, like, an entire week. Maybe two.
“Are you in one of Jiseok’s classes?” Jungsu asks suddenly. “You looked kinda familiar when I saw you.”
Seungmin blinks at the question, catching himself before he blurts out something stupid like ‘You must know my face because I’ve been practically stalking you for the past few weeks and I’ve also been too afraid to come up to you and tell you how good you look.’
“Oh. Uh, no. We don’t share any classes, but we’re friends. All three of us, I mean. Since middle school. So you know, we hang out a lot. And I’ve seen you around, too. At university, I mean.” He fiddles with his sweater sleeve again, willing himself to sound less like a floundering dumbass. “You’re a year ahead of me, though, right?”
“I think so,” Jungsu nods. “What are you studying?”
“Graphic design. You?”
“Literature.”
“That’s… cool.” Seungmin means it, but he also knows he sounds like an idiot, and he’s doing a terrible job, trying to recreate his initial reaction when he truly first found out about it (about two weeks ago), which was something like, ‘Oh my God, that’s so fucking hot of him to be a smart-ass.’
“There we are!” Jooyeon’s voice cuts across the room like an explosion, causing Seungmin’s head to snap toward the restroom door like a drowning man spotting a lifeboat.
His lifeboat is on fucking fire.
Jooyeon and Jiseok do not, in fact, look sorry for their long absence. If anything, they’re grinning (beaming, actually) with the kind of unholy joy that can only mean trouble. Yeah, trouble, that’s right. They’re bringing trouble in the form of an absolutely enormous, aggressively red, fully heart-shaped balloon bobbing gently above their heads. Where… how did they get that? Did they blow it up in the restroom? Ugh, Seungmin doesn’t even want to think about how they got it floating in those conditions. He could’ve forgiven them a little restroom sex, but this? This isn’t something they could keep a secret from everyone but God.
Jiseok walks straight over and, with precisely zero warning and even less shame, uses Seungmin’s phone as a balloon anchor, pinning the ribbon under it so the heart floats over their table.
“Atmosphere!” Jooyeon proclaims as he plops down next to him, voice way too cheerful. “It’s for the vibes. It’s a special day!”
“You people are deranged,” Seungmin mutters, and both Jooyeon and Jiseok laugh, eyes glittery and satisfied, clearly thrilled by the way his cheeks go nuclear pink.
“Doesn’t it look cute?” Jiseok sing-songs, flicking at the balloon so it wobbles.
If there’s a God, Seungmin wants Him to take him to heaven right now, rather than be here any longer. He’s even willing to pay for the transportation costs, just please put him out of his misery.
Seriously, what the fuck are they doing?
Seungmin is going to strangle them right here, right now. He doesn’t care that this is a public place, and there are probably security cameras, and fighting them ends in exactly zero victory about 99% of the time. He’s just about to leap across the table and take his chances with Jiseok when Jungsu chuckles and shakes his head.
God, he’s so pretty and cute that Seungmin might actually die. He’s worried about his heart, which does strange things inside his chest when he sees Jungsu, and that’s exactly why he’s so mad about being tricked into meeting him in the first place. That stupid balloon only makes things worse. Seungmin doesn’t think he can handle both its and Jungsu’s company.
Blushing harder, he mutters something unintelligible; that’s probably an ancient curse aimed at Kwak and Lee’s entire bloodline. Also, he’s trying to calculate how many minutes have to pass before he can justifiably fake a family emergency, a spontaneous nosebleed or a stroke.
“So anyway,” Jooyeon says, already plotting mischief and absolutely ignoring Seungmin’s pitiful look, “Jiseok and I… we realised that we kind of need to go.” They exchange a look so over-the-top conspiratorial that Seungmin wants to whack them with the menu paper. “We’ve just remembered we, uh-h… needed to help out his mum, right?”
Jiseok nods as if in confirmation, but Seungmin can smell pure improvisation a kilometre away. They’re not going to help anyone. They just want to run away and leave him alone with Jungsu and that stupid heart-shaped balloon. They want him dead.
“Wait, what?” Seungmin frowns, but Jooyeon’s already standing, grabbing his jacket and slinging it on. Jiseok mirrors him, the two already halfway out the door before Seungmin can catch up.
“Yeah, big family dinner plans!” Jooyeon chirps. “You’re in good hands, though! Have fun on your date!”
Seungmin exhales, feeling every molecule of oxygen leave his body, slumping dramatically in his chair.
“Can you believe that, huh?” he mutters, watching through the window as Jooyeon and Jiseok hop down the steps outside, probably off to get matching tattoos or something that definitely isn’t helping out Jiseok’s mother, their arms looped like two halves of one very dumb brain cell.
“That’s… well, that was something,” Jungsu grins, eyes scrunching at the edges.
Seungmin sighs, picking at the edge of a napkin, brow furrowing. “Just so you know, those two are always like that. The chaos is just… baseline. This is honestly a gentle day for them, and I can’t even be mad at them, even though I really want to.”
Jungsu huffs a warm little laugh, flipping his straw back and forth between his fingers, and gives him a soft, kind of teasing look.
“So, you wanna be mad at them?” he asks, batting his lashes in painfully false innocence. “Is it me? Am I so terrible to be left alone with?”
“No. That’s the point. They…” Seungmin blows out a shaky breath, words jammed behind his tongue. God, spit it out, you coward. What’s the worst that can happen? He already knows you’re a total disaster.
Jungsu is waiting, head tilted, a little smile ticking his mouth up at the corners.
“They– uh.” Seungmin’s hands fidget with the napkin, mind racing. “They did this on purpose. Because they know that I– That I…” His face is boiling, probably the exact colour of the stupid balloon overhead. “That I like you,” he gets out, voice barely above a whisper. “Jesus. I really like you, okay? They knew. They’ve known for ages, probably longer than me. It’s why they set this up. Because I’m too… too much of a coward to do anything myself.”
He doesn’t dare look up. Humiliation is folding him in on himself, making his spine look like a freaking croissant.
“Oh, really?” Jungsu says, voice all teasing but soft at the edges. He leans forward, linking his fingers loosely on the table, and his smile is pure, undiluted fondness. “That bad, huh?”
There’s mischief in his eyes, but also something gentler, warmer, something that Seungmin wants to sink into.
“Yeah,” Seungmin mutters, letting his hair fall into his eyes. “That bad.”
“Well, your silly friends actually did a good thing. Because honestly, if I waited for you, I’d probably graduate before you asked me out.” Jungsu’s grin turns nearly smug. “So I guess I should thank them.”
“I just… I really can’t believe they did this for me. And I can’t believe it actually worked.”
“Well, I’m glad it did.”
There it is, that feeling again – his heart doing small cartwheels.
Maybe his friends are idiots, and maybe he is, too. But for once, everything feels like the universe has finally decided to stop punking him for once and just let him have something good. Can it actually be happening? Did he, Seungmin, full-time champion of self-inflicted awkwardness, finally get the guy of his dreams? Did he actually score a win on Valentine’s Day, of all days?
This is going to be the best day of his life.