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Minghao can honestly say that he doesn’t often go out of his way to deal with people. It’s just...not something he’s interested in, usually.
Sometimes, this makes dating Lee Seokmin challenging. For example, when Seokmin makes friends with all the ahjummas at the grocery store, and Minghao just wants to go home. Or when the simple act of petting a stranger’s dog becomes a half-hour conversation (though at least then, Minghao has the dog to entertain him.) Another example is the scene in front of him at the moment; Minghao knew that when they walked past the upstairs neighbor they’ve met a handful of times holding a wriggling toddler and looking distressed in the lobby of their building, Seokmin wouldn’t hesitate to jump in and ask what was wrong, because he’s made of sunshine or dew drops or something (Minghao isn’t sure, he’s spent the last few years trying to figure it out.)
And sure enough, here they are, nearly across the lobby when Seokmin asks their neighbor, “Is everything okay?”
“Um,” Upstairs Neighbor starts. “Well, not really.”
He pauses, readjusting the squirming little girl in his arms, before going on, “I’m babysitting my niece, and I’m not — I’ve never watched her alone before, and —” his words are punctuated with little noises of discomfort as the baby pulls at his hair and his ear, looking disgruntled.
Minghao makes a noise that he hopes comes off as sympathetic, because it is, vaguely, even if he finds it slightly funny the way the baby is handling him. His hand is on the small of Seokmin’s back, and he pushes him forward a little as a physical reminder that they were in the middle of walking upstairs to their apartment, but it doesn’t work.
“Can we help at all?” Seokmin asks, voice so earnest and sweet and so damn annoying sometimes. Minghao almost groans out loud. How dare his boyfriend be so kind? He had his whole day planned, and now here he is, holding back a grimace as Upstairs Neighbor looks surprised at Seokmin’s generosity. Typical.
“Oh,” he says quietly. “I mean, that would be great. Thank you, Seokmin-ssi,” he says, sounding touched. Seokmin is beaming. Minghao is tired already.
“And thank you, um…” Upstairs Neighbor looks at Minghao, but his face goes blank and embarrassed.
“Minghao. It’s okay, I don’t remember your name either,” Minghao offers with a small grin. Seokmin nudges him with an elbow, but Upstairs Neighbor laughs despite the wiggling baby in his arms, finally letting her down to the ground and keeping a hold on one of her hands.
“Thank you too, Minghao-ssi,” he says kindly. “I’m Mingyu.”
Oh, right. That’s familiar. Seokmin must see him around more than Minghao does, because sometimes Seokmin mentions chatting with him. Then again, Seokmin could chat with a doorframe, so sometimes those stories run together for Minghao.
“He’s bad with names,” Seokmin says, shooting Minghao a look. Minghao just raises an eyebrow at him, amused at Seokmin’s rush to an excuse.
“Me too,” Mingyu says with another smile. This is probably why Seokmin gets along with him; his smile is warm and friendly, endearing even to Minghao.
“Where were you headed?” Seokmin asks Mingyu as they stand in the entryway of the apartment complex.
“Upstairs to my apartment. If you really do want to help, you could...come over?” Mingyu offers. He’s giving them an out, but Minghao knows it’s useless. The baby is still fussing, not happy having to stand still, and Seokmin looks wholly endeared, either by her or Mingyu or both. Probably both.
Minghao’s Saturday is a lost cause.
++
The baby’s name is Eunae, and now that she has people paying attention to her, she’s pretty well-mannered. Minghao doesn’t have much experience with babies; he was an only child, and all his friends growing up only had older siblings. They seem like foreign little beings, and he’s never really sure what they want from him.
Seokmin, on the other hand, spends the afternoon beaming at Eunae as he plays little games that make no sense, taking turns stacking the same three blocks over and over again on the floor. Minghao lets him take the lead with the baby, instead opting to help Mingyu cook a baby-safe dinner and tidy up the explosion of things that follow Seokmin and Eunae throughout the apartment. Besides being covered in baby supplies, Mingyu’s apartment is nice and well-decorated. It’s much neater than Seokmin and Minghao’s, which strikes Minghao as slightly irritating; Mingyu is already nice and handsome, did he need to be organized too?
“He’s good at this, huh?” Mingyu asks quietly as they both stand in the doorway to the living room, watching Seokmin bounce Eunae on his lap and smile happily.
“He’s good at most things,” Minghao says distractedly. He likes watching Seokmin with kids. Minghao’s not the biggest kid person, but there’s no denying that it’s sweet, to see Seokmin so happy and gentle.
“That’s sweet,” Mingyu tells him with a grin, and Minghao feels his cheeks go pink, embarrassed.
He shifts his weight. “Well,” he says, only a little uncomfortable.
“I just meant that you two are cute together,” Mingyu says, still smiling, like he’s immune to Minghao’s discomfort.
“Um,” Minghao mutters, shifting his weight between feet again, “Thanks.”
They stay looking at each other for a moment, and Minghao finally gives Mingyu a reluctant smile when he can see the visible sincerity radiating off of Mingyu. It’s...nice. Mingyu is nice.
“Mingyu-yah,” Seokmin calls in a stage whisper from the couch. “She fell asleep.”
“Oh, thank god,” Mingyu says in a high-pitched whine, walking over to collect a sleeping Eunae from where she’s lying in Seokmin’s lap. “Her nap’s on time.”
“That’s important,” Seokmin says with a smile.
“Yeah, I still get cranky if my nap isn't on time,” Minghao jokes with a smirk, and Seokmin snorts.
Minghao has to admit, Mingyu looks nice holding the baby, his face soft when he looks at her. He crosses his arms, a little uncomfortable with how endearing Mingyu is, as a person.
“We should go,” Minghao says now, on impulse. Seokmin looks at him, a little surprised.
Seokmin looks at his watch and hums. “You’re right, we have plans.”
(One of Minghao’s favorite things about Seokmin is how he’ll back Minghao up on excuses to leave any given situation.)
“Oh,” Mingyu says, looking up from Eunae’s sleeping face. “Yeah, no problem. Um, thanks again, for your help. I owe you.”
“No problem,” Seokmin says, smiling big and bright the way he knows full well charms people to death. Sure enough, on cue, Mingyu smiles back in a way that is unbelievably familiar to Minghao, a look on his face that says “I want to take care of you.” Seokmin is too powerful sometimes.
“It really wasn’t,” Minghao says, because it’s the truth. Yes, he unfortunately had to dash his plans of rewatching that Chinese drama Junhui reminded him they loved in high school, and yes, he did just prematurely yank them out of Mingyu’s home, but. It wasn’t a problem. It was nice, talking to Mingyu, watching him cook, watching Seokmin with the baby.
Seokmin smiles at him too, and Minghao, even after all these years, isn’t immune. Too powerful.
“I like Mingyu,” Seokmin says when they leave, making the quick trek up a flight of stairs to their own apartment. “He’s really nice.”
“Seokmin, you think everyone is nice,” Minghao says with half a smile.
Seokmin just stops to pout at Minghao. “He is, though. You think so too.”
Minghao just sighs a little, swinging their clasped hands between them. “I do. You’re right.”
Seokmin makes a satisfied little “Ha!” noise, and Minghao smiles despite himself.
“He told me we were cute together,” Minghao says, wrinkling his nose. “Who does that?”
“Nice people,” Seokmin says matter-of-factly. “That’s sweet, and also true. We are very cute together.”
“I mean, obviously,” Minghao says, grinning as he glances sideways at Seokmin, who laughs.
“So why’d we need to leave in such a hurry, exactly? I mean, I didn’t mind, I was just wondering,” Seokmin says as Minghao unlocks their apartment door. The layout of their apartment is almost the same as Mingyu’s, but with more clutter and less of a tasteful eye for decor. Neither of them care much about it, and it looks fine, so whatever.
“I don’t know,” Minghao says honestly, scrunching his nose again as he tries to pinpoint it, but he really can’t. “Can’t I just want to come home with my boyfriend?”
“I mean, I don’t blame you,” Seokmin says in a ridiculous faux-confident voice, smiling cheesily as he gestures to himself. “I’m very desirable.”
Minghao laughs easily, flopping down onto the couch. “Sure.”
“Are you saying I’m not?” Seokmin asks, straddling Minghao’s lap on the couch, grinning wide.
Minghao laughs again, brings his hands to rest on Seokmin’s thighs. “Never, Seokminnie. You’re incredibly desirable. I couldn’t control myself anymore.”
Seokmin laughs, leaning his forehead against Minghao’s neck before he comes back up and kisses him, familiar and easy.
“It was fun playing house for a little while,” Seokmin says, hand coming up to run his fingers through the back of Minghao’s hair. “Eunae was so sweet.”
“You’re cute,” Minghao says simply, because it’s true.
“You too,” Seokmin laughs, leaning in and kissing Minghao again. “Let’s go back to our own lives, where we make out on the couch because there isn’t any baby stuff on it.”
“Great idea,” Minghao says with a giggle, before he lets Seokmin push him back into the couch and kiss him properly.
++
It happens again a couple weeks later. Minghao’s coming in late from work on a Wednesday, tired and hungry and feeling kind of like he wants to lie in bed for the entire foreseeable future. Preferably with Seokmin, doing absolutely nothing at all.
Except then, this thing happens. This thing where Minghao’s walking up the stairs, because their stupid elevator is broken again, and he hears a voice that’s attempting soothing, mixed with the near-crying whines of a baby. It only takes him about six more steps to be sure that it’s Mingyu, his low voice (raspy with the hint of a lisp around the edges?) giving him away, and sure enough when he steps up to the third floor he sees the door to Mingyu’s apartment open with Eunae’s little hand around the wood of the door.
“This stays closed, Eunae-yah. Come on, it’s dinner time. Don’t you want dinner?” Mingyu sounds overwhelmed, pleading, and Minghao can’t help the way his lips upturn at it. It’s not funny exactly, but it’s...well, it’s a little funny.
Eunae just keeps whimpering, face contorted near tears. Minghao winces as he slows his pace, approaching the still-open door.
He clears his throat experimentally, trying not to startle Mingyu, but the man still jumps and gives a little shriek anyway. Minghao does laugh at that.
“Sorry,” Minghao says quietly, standing a little awkwardly outside the door. “I was just walking by and heard...a struggle, I think.”
Mingyu stands up from his crouch next to Eunae, opening the door all the way, and Minghao can’t do much besides blink. Mingyu is objectively handsome and always has been, but he looks...nice. He’s wearing slacks that fit him well, a nice little button-down shirt and these glasses that make him look...well, they look good, anyway.
Mingyu is pouting, which takes away slightly from his whole put-together handsome man thing, but it’s cute nevertheless. “I’m not struggling. I wasn’t expecting my sister to drop Eunae off tonight. I was expecting to order takeout and lay down and not move at all. So I’m adapting.”
“Funny, those were my plans for the evening, too,” Minghao says with half a grin.
“That kind of day, huh?” Mingyu asks sympathetically.
Minghao nods, still smiling. “Little bit.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy yourself for the both of us, because I need to find some baby food she’ll eat. She’s getting so picky,” Mingyu whines.
“Um,” Minghao says, not really planning the next words out of his mouth. Mingyu does something to him — messes with his brain to mouth filter that he’s worked for so long to build up. “If you wanted some company, you’re welcome at our place. You can share our takeout instead of trying to find your own with Eunae to deal with.”
Mingyu looks surprised then, only shaken out of his expression when Eunae makes another whining noise and he crouches back down to hold her hand. “I don’t want to intrude,” Mingyu says finally.
“You wouldn’t be,” Minghao assures him. “Seokmin likes company.”
Mingyu laughs a little at that, smiling toothily. “And what about you?”
“I like it less. But I invited you,” Minghao says with a shrug. Why he invited the acquaintance and the baby into his decidedly acquaintance and baby-unfriendly apartment is a little beyond him at the moment, but. He did.
“Well, I’m not going to turn you down.” Mingyu’s voice is a little soft when he says it, smiling in a cautious kind of way, and Minghao probably stares at him for a moment too long. Yikes, he has the wherewithal to think as he helps a man he barely knows transport baby junk into his home.
“I brought a man home,” Minghao announces as he walks in the door, setting down the baby bag in the doorway. (“It’s not called a baby bag,” Mingyu complained earlier. Minghao’s going to keep calling it a baby bag.)
“Oh?” Seokmin calls back from the living room, it sounds like.
“Yeah, and a baby,” Minghao says, though this statement is rendered unnecessary when Eunae announces herself with a little screech of indistinguishable emotion.
Seokmin pauses, then laughs, the sound of the couch shifting under him as he moves. “What the hell?”
“Hi, Seokmin,” Mingyu greets when Seokmin rounds the corner. He’s already in sweatpants and an old tourist t-shirt from a trip to Shanghai they went on with Minghao’s parents years ago. Embarrassing. Also, very cute. Minghao takes a moment to appreciate it as he walks over.
“Oh, hi Mingyu. You look nice,” Seokmin says, smiling brightly. “And Eunae! What a day.”
“See? He loves it,” Minghao tells Mingyu, nudging him with a shoulder. It strikes him as annoying that Mingyu is so...tall. He and Seokmin are fairly tall people, he isn’t used to feeling small next to someone, but he kind of does next to Mingyu.
Seokmin raises an eyebrow at him, but he’s still smiling when he leans in to kiss Minghao in greeting. It takes Minghao by surprise a little, the affection in front of both Mingyu and a baby, but Minghao should have figured, really. Seokmin never developed a radar for what counts as too public of a display of affection for Minghao, sometimes.
“Get out of the doorway, come on,” Seokmin urges them, and Minghao smiles before following directions, pulling Mingyu along by the arm.
It’s kind of a weird night, but not in a bad way. It’s strange having little baby toys mixed in with their stuff, in their space, but after Eunae eats dinner she calms down and almost immediately falls asleep. The rest of the night is just...them. They get takeout and sit around the coffee table on the floor to keep a better eye on Eunae, Mingyu chatting about work and Seokmin doing a much better job at keeping conversation going than Minghao. Mingyu is...sweet. Funny, sometimes. Funnier when he’s not trying to be, which Minghao enjoys. He likes the way Mingyu pouts and whines when Minghao makes fun of him lightly, experimentally, and Minghao smirks down into his plate every time he does it.
“Thanks for having me,” Mingyu says at some point, pushing his glasses up with his knuckle. “Sorry for ruining your plans to do nothing.”
“No, this was good too,” Minghao replies quietly, giving Mingyu a sincere little smile without really meaning to.
“Careful, that face looks too friendly,” Mingyu teases with a smirk.
“Hey,” Minghao says defensively. “I’m a very nice person.”
“You are extremely nice,” Seokmin agrees, pausing. “But you’re a little prickly at first, Minghao.”
Minghao makes a face at him. “I’m not prickly. That’s a word for cactuses. And...I don’t know, stubble.”
Mingyu snorts. Minghao glares.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Mingyu says, smiling over at Minghao.
Minghao can’t think of anything to say to that, so he just looks down at his hands, feeling awkward and unable to place why.
Eventually, Mingyu an Eunae leave. It’s later, after the three adults have managed to curl up on the couch (Seokmin heavy against Minghao and Mingyu on the other end of the couch), talking over the television in a way that’s more familiar than they really have any right to be with each other. But it gets late, and Mingyu sounds almost sad when he says, “I need to go, my sister’s coming for Eunae.”
“Oh,” Minghao says quietly, because he kind of forgot that was part of the deal. Usually, when there are people over, Minghao feels overly aware of them, ready for them to leave. Mingyu felt comfortable.
Seokmin pushes up from where he was leaned against Mingyu, something helpful leaving his mouth as he goes to join Mingyu in picking up the small quantity of baby stuff that somehow managed to get spread around in only a few hours. And Seokmin looks so nice, smiling at Mingyu. (Smiling up at him, he reminds himself — Minghao still isn’t quite used to how tall Mingyu is.)
Minghao feels vaguely off-kilter as they quietly say goodbyes at the door, Eunae slung gently over Mingyu’s shoulder (a good image, Minghao thinks.) When it closes, he’s left with Seokmin, staring at him with a smirk.
“What?” Minghao asks, feeling defensive. Seokmin looks up to something.
“Nothing,” Seokmin says, shrugging and walking past Minghao into the living room. “I was just thinking that you’re cute when you have a crush.”
Minghao feels himself blush almost instantly, and tries to argue, but ends up mostly just sputtering. “Hey,” he finally manages, loud and accusatory. “I do not have a crush.”
Seokmin just laughs, looking pleased with himself. “Sure, honey.”
“I don’t!”
“Your voice is getting all screechy,” Seokmin notes, still sounding amused. “If you really didn’t, you wouldn’t be so mad.”
“Yes I would, because I don’t like being accused of things,” Minghao says, though he does make a concentrated effort to bring his voice down a few levels.
“Minghao,” Seokmin says, walking back over in front of Seokmin and resting his hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay to feel things, you know. For people.”
“You know that I disagree,” Minghao grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring at Seokmin.
“You feel things for me,” Seokmin points out.
Minghao sighs, rolling his eyes. “You are an exception to a rule.”
Seokmin hums, like he’s thinking. “You felt things for Soonyoung.”
“Who doesn’t feel things for Soonyoung?” Minghao asks, waving a hand dismissively. “That doesn’t count.”
“We dated him for a year, I think it counts,” Seokmin says with a smile.
Minghao waves his hand again.
“You know, I’ll indulge you sometimes, but this whole allergic to feelings thing is the worst lie,” Seokmin tells him, not unkindly. “You should let yourself be happy more often, Minghao.”
Minghao just groans, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Seokmin’s and close his eyes. “Don’t be sweet to me right now. It’s so much work to like people, Seokmin.”
“Yeah, well, too bad. I like him too.”
That makes Minghao stand back up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. He’s handsome, and sweet. He offered to do the dishes. Who does that?” Seokmin asks with a little laugh, bringing his hands up to rest on the nape of Minghao’s neck.
“Boys that are too nice for their own good,” Minghao replies with a sigh.
“He looked really good tonight,” Seokmin observes, sounding contemplative.
Minghao sighs again. “Yeah. He did.”
Seokmin brings his hands down to Minghao’s waist, squeezing gently. “You do too, by the way.”
Minghao’s still in work-appropriate clothes, a pair of his nicer jeans and a dress shirt big enough that Minghao’s not sure if he bought it for fashion or stole it from Seokmin. It was half-tucked in, earlier, but now it hangs down wrinkled. All in all, it’s nothing special, and certainly doesn’t warrant the way Seokmin’s looking him over. “Don’t flatter me.”
“You always look good, Minghao-yah,” Seokmin mutters, leaning in to kiss him.
“You’re lying, but I’m fine with it,” Minghao breathes between kisses, and Seokmin breaks away to laugh.
“You and Mingyu would look good together,” Seokmin says a moment later, when he’s collected himself. His hands are still steady on Minghao’s waist, pulling him closer, and Minghao follows easily.
Minghao hums, ignoring the way that thought makes him go warm. “Yeah?”
“He’s bigger than you,” Seokmin says in a low voice. His hand pushes up under Minghao’s oversized shirt, thumb stroking errantly against his skin in a way that gives Minghao goosebumps.
“That’s true,” Minghao mutters. “Bigger than you, too.”
“Mhm,” Seokmin breathes, before he’s leaning forward to kiss Minghao again, and that’s the last thing either of them say coherently for a while.
Seokmin is still lying in bed languidly when Minghao comes back from taking a shower, barely moved from the spot he was in when Minghao left.
“Gross,” Minghao comments, throwing his towel at Seokmin with a quiet laugh. “How do you just stay all gross in bed after sex? Doesn’t it bother you?”
“You throwing a towel at me bothers me,” Seokmin comments, not even opening his eyes as he tosses it across the room toward the bathroom door.
Minghao doesn’t respond, just smirks as he walks over to his dresser. “I’m not getting back in bed with you like that.”
“I’m willing to take that risk,” Seokmin mutters, rolling over on his side to face Minghao.
“Gross,” Minghao says again with another laugh.
It’s quiet while Minghao finishes his skincare routine and pulls on a shirt to sleep in (that definitely used to belong to Seokmin, some amount of years ago.) Routines he’s used to.
“So what are we doing about Mingyu?” Seokmin asks while Minghao searches through his drawers for a pair of sleep pants.
Minghao hums quietly. “I don’t know. I’m bad at these things.”
“That’s not true. You’re extremely seductive.”
Minghao just snorts in response, looking over to Seokmin incredulously. “Yeah, right.” Seokmin just laughs, smiling wide.
“You seduced me,” Seokmin says, shrugging a shoulder.
“That’s not even remotely true. We danced around each other for months because we were both too dumb to realize we should kiss. Also, we were like nine years old.” Minghao rattles all this off as he pulls on his joggers.
“Twenty,” Seokmin corrects.
“Same thing,” Minghao says dismissively.
“But you were a dancer and you dressed so cool,” Seokmin says with a sigh, sounding wistful.
“Yeah, and I was barely fluent in Korean. Total package,” Minghao jokes, walking over to stand next to the bed. “Anyway, this is more your field than mine. You’re so nice to people that everyone you meet is a little in love with you.”
Seokmin scoffs. “Please.”
“I’m being serious. It’s very annoying,” Minghao says, but Seokmin’s big stupid smile makes him grin back as he says it. “Get up, we need to change the sheets.”
“Need is such a strong word,” Seokmin says, voice near whining at the mere thought of moving.
“I am not sleeping in the gross sex bed, Seokmin-ah. You spilled lube,” Minghao says accusingly, wrinkling his nose.
Seokmin sighs. “I did do that, didn’t I.”
“You did, and it’s gross. Get up. And get dressed, lazy.”
Seokmin sighs, long-suffering before following Minghao’s directions, wandering off to the bathroom to wash up.
“We should probably spend some time with him when there’s not a baby around,” Minghao calls over to him with a clean sheet in his hand.
“You know,” Seokmin starts, walking back over significantly cleaner. “You’re not wrong there. Though, if you’re attracted to him when there is a baby, I’m worried for you when there’s not one.”
Minghao feels himself go pink and glares at Seokmin. “You’re really having too much fun with this.”
“I told you,” Seokmin says with a smile, leaning in to kiss Minghao’s cheek. “You’re cute when you have a crush.”
++
Despite their plans, the next three times Minghao and Seokmin see Mingyu, there’s a baby involved. Somehow, they became Mingyu’s go-to co-babysitters, sending the two of them a barrage of texts every time he’s enlisted for the job. (And they’re cute texts, too, with emojis and weird slang, and Minghao hates being endeared by this sort of thing but he is, and it’s horrible.)
The three of them are actually getting...kind of good at babysitting, really, which isn’t something he ever thought he would be. Seokmin is good at playing with Eunae, cheering her up when she starts to cry; Mingyu is better at the more practical things, making sure she’s eating the right food and knowing what her cries mean; Minghao picks up the pieces between them, trying to facilitate the chaos that comes with the job. He’s not the best with kids but he thinks maybe he’s getting better; Eunae doesn’t hate him, at least, lets him pick her up and try his best to understand how to interact with her.
They’re a good team, really, a fact that Minghao takes some pleasure in. It’s been a while, since Minghao’s felt that, since someone slotted in so well with him and Seokmin. (Since Soonyoung, maybe, but that was different.) Seokmin makes fun of Minghao for having a crush but he’s just as bad, smiling dreamily at Mingyu constantly, finding excuses to hang off of him. (And maybe Seokmin’s cute when he has a crush too, but that’s not the point.) Minghao thinks maybe Mingyu is starting to notice, too, the way his eyes linger on the two of them sometimes.
Even if their plan isn’t going quite as they hoped, everything’s going...really well. Minghao forgot how good that beginning feeling is, that is-he-flirting-with-me feeling, and he’s enjoying himself.
Until, of course, the baby gets him sick.
“She’s not even my kid,” he complains the Saturday he wakes up with a fever. “I shouldn’t be out here getting sick from other people’s kids.” His throat hurts and his voice is nearly gone overnight, which he is extremely annoyed about. He’s extremely annoyed in general, and Seokmin keeps pressing his shoulders back down to the bed gently and shushing him, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. It’s very comforting and very irritating.
“Go back to sleep, honey,” Seokmin says soothingly, and Minghao wants to fight him, because how can he sleep when he has a 190-centimeter tall man to scold, but whenever he moves he feels extremely dizzy, so he guesses it’ll have to wait.
“I hate being sick,” Minghao whines instead.
“Let me go get you medicine,” Seokmin offers, running his hand through Minghao’s hair again and resting on his cheek for a minute.
“Thank you,” Minghao grumbles into his pillow. “I love you.”
“I know,” Seokmin says with half a grin, scooting off the bed toward the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.
Seokmin brings him medicine, a new shirt to change into, and a glass of water. “I really do love you,” Minghao repeats in his husky voice.
Seokmin just laughs softly, cupping Minghao’s jaw with one hand. “I know, Minghao-yah. I love you too. Come here, change your shirt, you’re all sweaty.”
Minghao spends the day in and out of sleep, drinking water when Seokmin prompts him to. When he’s asleep his dreams are weird, loud and sprawling and totally nonsensical; when he’s awake, he finds himself a little sad and homesick the way he always gets when he’s sick. He misses his parents, and his house. He misses Junhui, halfway across this damn country just to live with stupid Jihoon in stupid Busan. He’s happy for them and everything, but when they both lived in Seoul, Junhui would make him Chinese ginger tea every time he got sick, and the thought of that kind of makes Minghao want to cry. It’s a pitiful day, all in all, even more depressing since he’s wasting a Saturday in the process.
Minghao finally pries himself out of bed at about five in the afternoon, forcing himself to take a shower even after Seokmin worried at him about whether or not he was still dizzy and how pale he looked. That’s normal when he’s sick, and Minghao ignoring him and taking a shower anyway is normal. What isn’t normal is the sound of two voices in the apartment when he gets out, talking in low tones in the living room.
Minghao gets dressed hastily, not expending more effort than a soft pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, and when he emerges he finds Seokmin and Mingyu sitting across from each other on the couch talking.
They pause when Minghao enters, and Mingyu looks at him sympathetically. “Minghao-yah, I’m so sorry you’re sick.”
Minghao furrows his eyebrows. “How’d you even know?”
“You texted me this morning?” Mingyu says, sounding confused. “It just said ‘your baby gave me the plague and i’m dead now’.”
“Oh,” Minghao mutters. “I...don’t remember sending that.”
“You understood he was sick from that?” Seokmin asks. “I’m impressed.”
“I’m very smart,” Mingyu says seriously. It only takes three seconds of Minghao and Seokmin staring at him for him to start laughing, and then Seokmin starts laughing too. Minghao might have joined them if he could breathe or speak comfortably, or if he hadn’t just noticed the pot on the stove.
“What’s that?”
“I made you samgyetang,” Mingyu announces happily, like it’s no big deal at all.
“What?” Minghao asks incredulously. “You what?”
“You got sick, and it was kind of my fault, so. I made you samgyetang.” Mingyu says again, slower. When Minghao keeps staring at him, Mingyu goes on, “It’s soup? Korean chicken soup, with ginseng, and —”
“I know what samgyetang is,” Minghao insists. “I just...that’s a lot.”
“It wasn’t any trouble,” Mingyu says.
Except Minghao doesn’t believe him, even at all, because the only person who’s ever made samgyetang for him was Seokmin’s mother, and that was years ago. Minghao finds himself a little overwhelmed and at a loss for words. He glances at Seokmin, who’s just smiling happily over at Minghao, looking satisfied.
“Thank you. That’s really nice,” Minghao says finally. He thinks about Junhui and ginger tea and Seokmin and the cold medicine on the bedside table and for a second he’s worried he’ll cry in the living room in front of Mingyu, an absolute nightmare scenario in his mind. But he keeps it together, thank god, manages to walk over to the soup so he can stop feeling the uncomfortable prickle of gratitude when he looks at Mingyu.
It looks how it does from restaurants, how it did when Seokmin’s mother made it for him, a whole chicken steaming in the middle of the pot, ginseng and rice visible through the broth.
“I didn’t know there were boys like you out there, Kim Mingyu,” Seokmin says in the living room, because of course he’ll still flirt on Minghao’s deathbed. Minghao wouldn’t expect any less or have it any other way.
“I try my best,” Mingyu replies.
Minghao still hasn’t said anything else, still feeling vaguely overwhelmed. It’s one thing to like someone, it’s another thing to get shoved bodily into a bunch of feelings he never signed up for.
Mingyu and Seokmin are talking about cooking in the living room, a cute little conversation where Seokmin is trying to worm his way into some more free food, and Minghao just stares down at the soup, contemplating the fact that probably, he’s fucked.
++
The thing about being a couple who sometimes date other people is that at some point, there’s a big reveal. It always feels vaguely like a poorly-written drama, the act of letting people in on your scandalous lifestyle choices, though in reality it’s pretty far from scandalous.
In this case, it happens without much fanfare.
Mingyu is in their living room, curled up on the sofa in a cardigan that looks cozy, looking annoyingly cute. He just kind of...comes over sometimes now. Without a baby, most of the time, which Minghao is pleased about. (Though Seokmin was right, without that constant distraction, he is prone to fixating on the handsome cut of Mingyu’s jaw, how nice his eyes look, and how he’d kind of like to shove him against a wall sometime.)
It’s by chance that he glances up at the shelf on the wall in the living room and takes a harder look at the photographs there, though neither Seokmin or Minghao react much when he stands up to look them over. Mingyu’s apartment is kind of meticulous — well decorated, everything in its place — and watching him ghost his fingers over their assorted shelf of framed photographs, little trinkets and souvenirs and other cute junk they like, makes Minghao smile a little bit.
So neither of them are paying much attention to him when he asks, quietly, “Who’s in this picture with you?”
Minghao glances up, not paying much attention. “One of them is us with Seokmin’s sister, and the other is us with my parents,” he says errantly, looking back down at his computer where he’s editing some pictures he took at a wedding last weekend.
“No, the one in the middle,” Mingyu says. Minghao doesn’t look, moving sliders in Photoshop, and instead hears Seokmin say, “Oh. That’s Soonyoung.”
Minghao looks up. He forgot about that one, accidentally pushed back behind the family pictures.
“I haven’t heard about him,” Mingyu says. He’s heard of some of the other rotating cast in their dumb friend group, and in return they’ve learned a little about Mingyu’s friends, too.
Seokmin hums. “I guess not. He hasn’t really been around in a couple years.”
Mingyu looks uncomfortable at that, and there’s a pregnant pause before Seokmin goes, “Oh! I mean, he’s alive! He just moves around a lot.”
Mingyu looks visibly relieved. “Oh. That’s better.”
“He’s a professional dancer, so it’s part of the job,” Minghao intones. “He tours with people, that kind of thing.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Mingyu says lightly, not pressing but an invitation to say more. Minghao looks up from his computer properly to see Mingyu, face open and interested, and Seokmin on the other end of the couch, obviously weighing the options.
Fuck it, Minghao figures. Gotta happen sometime. “Well, we were dating him, so him moving away wasn’t the most exciting thing for us,” he says, keeping his voice casual even as he looks closely at Mingyu for reaction.
“Oh,” Mingyu says quietly. He’s hard to read, but mostly he just looks sympathetic. “That’s sad, I’m sorry. Were you...I mean, were you all dating for a while?”
“A year or so,” Seokmin says, sounding a little sad. It’s water under the bridge at this point but it’s still sad, thinking about how the timing wasn’t quite right for them. Minghao nudges his socked feet against Seokmin’s calf in something like comfort.
“Oh, wow,” Mingyu remarks. He looks like he has more he wants to say, and Minghao stares at him, waiting for it.
“You can ask us questions about it, you know,” Seokmin says kindly, a little more inviting than Minghao’s method.
“About what?” Mingyu asks, which comes out about as unconvincing as possible.
“About the fact that we date other people sometimes,” Minghao says bluntly.
Mingyu blushes prettily, and Minghao smirks. “Oh, that.”
“Mhm, that,” Seokmin agrees with a smile.
“I should mention I have a pretty low tolerance for bullshit about it, though,” Minghao says, voice hard. He’s learned that sometimes, it’s better just to be on the offensive before he has to play defense. Seokmin shoots him something like a glare, but Minghao just shrugs.
Mingyu doesn’t seem offended, though. “Yeah, I can imagine why.”
He walks back over to his place on the couch, fingers moving at the hem of his sweater. “I’ve never really known anyone who did that. It seems like it would be hard.”
Seokmin hums. “It can be sometimes, I guess. Mostly it’s just a little more complicated.”
“More moving parts,” Minghao agrees.
“Do you guys do that...a lot? I mean, that’s kind of personal, if you don’t want to —”
“You’re fine,” Seokmin interrupts with a comforting smile. He reaches over and puts his hand on Mingyu’s knee, too, and even Minghao is affected by it. Seokmin is so lovely all the time, he’s too powerful. “No, not a lot,” he says in response to Mingyu’s question.
“Sometimes it just happens,” Minghao says with a shrug. “Soonyoung was our best friend, before we got together, and it just kind of...happened.”
“I took a sociology class in college once where they talked about how people aren’t set up right for being with one person forever. It always kind of messed me up, because that’s what you’re supposed to do? Like everyone says it’s what you should do. But I guess you don’t have to,” Mingyu offers. He sounds shy about it, like he’s worried about offending or sounding dumb or something, but Minghao just nods.
“Yeah, there’s probably something to that, I don’t know. It just was the right thing for us, since we were a couple of idiots who fell in love with their best friend,” Minghao jokes. “And it was good for us.”
Mingyu nods. “That’s really...it sounds so evolved and healthy. The last guy I dated got jealous and weird over me wearing an ex’s old shirt,” he says with a laugh.
“We’re definitely not evolved,” Seokmin snorts. “I think we’re pretty healthy, though.” He looks over at Minghao with a smile, and Minghao smiles back over the top of his computer. He nudges his toes against Seokmin’s leg again, and Seokmin laughs quietly.
“Anyway,” Minghao says, eyes back on his computer screen. “It’s not a big deal, really. Just a thing.”
“Sure,” Mingyu says with half a grin. “Just a thing.”
And Minghao isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, but he swears Mingyu’s gaze lingers on him and Seokmin for a moment.
++
It’s one AM on a Friday night (Saturday morning, he supposes) and Minghao is woken up by Seokmin shaking his shoulder a little roughly, something that’s so out of character that for a second Minghao is worried their apartment is on fire or something.
He shoots up in bed, sitting up and looking at Seokmin blearily, confused. The lamp is on behind Seokmin so he’s kind of back-lit softly, and Minghao in his sleep-weakened state feels attacked.
“What’s happening?” Minghao slurs out, blinking heavily.
“We have a guest,” Seokmin says with a smile. How does he manage that at this hour?
“What?” Minghao repeats. He finds himself lacking the energy to understand that sentence fully.
“Mingyu just showed up at our door,” Seokmin explains, looking amused. “He is very drunk, and kind of ridiculous. I thought you might want to be involved here.”
Minghao groans, lying back down. “I want to be asleep, Seokminnie.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to be involved?” Seokmin asks.
Minghao sighs. “No.”
There’s the sound of something clattering in the living room and Minghao raises an eyebrow. “Fine. I’m getting up.”
Seokmin laughs as he leaves the room again, probably off to investigate that noise, and Minghao manages to drag himself fully upright, though he doesn’t bother changing out of his well-worn pajamas. Maybe it’s sad that this is their Friday nights now, but Minghao was tired, damn it.
When he comes out to the living room, he finds Mingyu clutching onto Seokmin a little desperately behind the couch, head resting on Seokmin’s shoulder, which he has to stoop to accomplish.
“Oh, Minghao’s here now,” Seokmin comments, hand patting Mingyu’s back.
“Oh, good,” Mingyu says weakly, eyes still closed against Seokmin. “Minghao, I almost broke your lamp.”
He sounds so apologetic that Minghao almost laughs. “That’s okay, Mingyu.”
Mingyu cracks his eyes open and asks, “Are you sure?”
It’s enough to spur Minghao to walk forward and rest his hand on Mingyu’s shoulder comfortingly, trying not to laugh. “I’m very sure.”
Mingyu looks at him for a minute, hard to read, before he says, “You look so sleepy.”
“Well, I was asleep,” Minghao explains, amused.
“Oh no,” Mingyu coos, closing his eyes again in a pout. “That’s so sad, I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s alright, I don’t mind,” Minghao says, and he’s barely even lying at all. Scary.
Mingyu moves away from Seokmin, standing upright, and nearly loses his balance for a moment. “Moving is hard, sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” Seokmin agrees kindly, hand rubbing Mingyu’s back. “Let’s go to the couch, Mingyu-yah.”
“I went out tonight,” Mingyu explains while they walk carefully over to the soft, padded surface that seems like a good idea for Mingyu’s current state.
“I see that,” Seokmin says patiently.
“My friends were in town and I haven’t — gone out in forever —” His sentence is interrupted by hiccups, reminiscent of a puppy, and Minghao is helplessly endeared. Horrible. “A lot happened.”
“Mhm,” Minghao murmurs, a hand steadying Mingyu’s back as he sits down. Mingyu manages to bring them down too, sitting on either side of him, and then he spreads out so that his head is in Seokmin’s lap, legs in Minghao’s.
“We went to a noraebang, and then we got pizza. Except I didn’t eat the pizza, but I drank more. And then I came home and I tried to go up the stairs but it wasn’t going very well so I stopped here,” Mingyu explains, voice slurred and muffled as he nuzzles his face into Seokmin’s thigh. (Which really, Minghao can’t blame him for.)
“That seems like a good choice,” Seokmin says sweetly, running his hand through Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu looks up at him, mouth open like he’s a little awestruck, and god, Minghao finds all of this intensely relatable.
Mingyu’s still looking up, eyes trained on Seokmin. “Seokminnie, you’re so handsome.”
Seokmin looks a little flustered, waving his hand dismissively, and Minghao scoffs. “Don’t give him a big head about it.”
“But he’s so handsome,” Mingyu says to Minghao, looking worried, like he has to convince Minghao of this fact.
“I know, it’s terrible,” Minghao agrees with a nod, patting Mingyu’s calf. He’s dressed in tight little black jeans with rips in the knees, and Minghao isn’t sure if they’re short for fashion or just because they weren’t made for his stupid-long legs, but he likes it either way. He lets his fingers play with the rough edge of the hem, running lightly over Mingyu’s ankle bone.
“You’re handsome too,” Mingyu assures him quickly, still looking worried. “Your nose is so good.”
That one actually does fluster Minghao a little bit, his face warm. “Thanks,” he mutters, embarrassed.
“It’s a very good nose,” Seokmin agrees, looking fond.
“Stop,” Minghao whines. “This is gross, stop.”
“I’m allowed to compliment you, Minghao-yah,” Seokmin says in an amused voice. “It’s my legal right.”
“Everyone should be allowed to compliment Minghao,” Mingyu mutters, burying his face in Seokmin’s leg again. Seokmin pats his head consolingly.
“I — okay, but stop,” Minghao says. He feels awkward, both of them looking at him so sweetly again. Or maybe just overwhelmed.
“You’re really making me not want to stop,” Seokmin warns with a smile.
Minghao glares at him, feels it turning into a pout but doesn’t stop it, and apparently it gets his point across.
Mingyu, for his part, seems to have moved on. He’s back to lying with his eyes closed on the pillow of Seokmin’s thigh, one of his hands gripped tight on Seokmin’s knee. “Thanks for letting me in,” he mutters quietly. “That’s so nice of you. You’re such nice people.”
“We’re good about taking in strays,” Minghao says, lips upturned when Mingyu laughs.
“That’s me,” Mingyu agrees. “I’ll stay as long as you let me, I’m bad about that.”
“We’ll have you for as long as you’d like,” Seokmin tells Mingyu quietly, sweetly. He runs a hand through his hair again, and Minghao’s eyes are focused on it without meaning to. The two of them are so pretty, so handsome, Mingyu tucked against Seokmin so nicely. It’s late and Minghao can’t help his thoughts from wandering, can’t help but think about Seokmin’s long fingers tipping Mingyu’s jaw up delicately into a kiss. It would be so nice to watch, to be a part of.
It’s not until Minghao feels Seokmin’s gaze that he knows he’s been caught. (“I can always tell when you want to kiss me,” Seokmin had told him years ago. “You’re bad at keeping it secret.”) It shakes Minghao back into reality, and he clears his throat, humming quietly afterward.
“He’s right,” Minghao says finally. Truthfully, he’s trying not to focus on the fact that he’d keep Mingyu forever, maybe. He’s trying not to focus on a lot of things, actually.
Mingyu is quiet for a moment before he sits up, draping himself clumsily across Seokmin’s lap (maybe by accident — he seems surprised when he gets there.) There’s a moment — Mingyu’s face is inches away from Seokmin’s and he looks...he looks wanting, his eyes drifting down to Seokmin’s lips before he glances back at his eyes. Minghao finds himself on-edge, tense, waiting; he watches Seokmin’s hands twitch, unmoving, before one finally rests on Mingyu’s thigh. The air is still, everyone quiet, and then — and then nothing. Mingyu breathes out a chuckle and leans forward, forehead resting on Seokmin’s shoulder.
“I should go to sleep,” Mingyu says, sounding like he doesn’t really believe himself.
Minghao doesn’t want him to. Minghao wants to sit next to them and splay his fingers on Mingyu’s thigh, watch him kiss Seokmin; the two of them would probably laugh too much, clumsy about it, and god it would sound good. If Mingyu was sober, maybe tonight would have gone differently — but then, if he was sober, he probably wouldn’t be here at all, and Minghao doesn’t know what that says, exactly.
“Probably,” he agrees, trying to shake himself out of his head. It’s late, and he blames the time of night for his total lack of focus, his wandering mind. It’s late and Mingyu is horribly handsome, clinging onto them affectionately, and it’s all just...a lot.
Minghao isn't sure how, but after some more quiet conversation about sleeping, the necessity of it, he gets up and walks over to their bedroom, digging through their drawers to find something for Mingyu to sleep in. He comes out with a big long-sleeved shirt, acquired via Junhui by way of Jihoon, probably, and Minghao would be lying if he said he didn't pick it because he thought Mingyu would look cute in it.
When he walks back out, Seokmin has his hand in Mingyu's hair again, Mingyu leaned against him on the couch with half-lidded eyes.
"You're both really so nice. I'm so glad we -- we're friends," Mingyu is muttering, arm wrapped around Seokmin.
Seokmin chuckles, stroking at his hair kindly. "Me too, Mingyu-yah."
"Me too, for the record," Minghao adds quietly, causing Mingyu to open his eyes a bit more and smile.
"Prickly. Seokminnie called you prickly," Mingyu remembers. Minghao snorts. "You're so sweet all the time, though."
"It's all an act," Seokmin says with a smile. "He wants to pretend to be cool, but actually he's a big softie."
"Hey," Minghao defends. "I'm not here to discuss my emotional availability. I'm here to give Mingyu clothes."
"So sweet," Mingyu repeats.
"You're...welcome," Minghao manages, shifting awkwardly on his feet.
Mingyu opens his eyes again and laughs, breathy and lazy as far as laughs go. "You're so cute when you get flustered."
It makes Minghao blush, cheeks warm and pink, and his hands grip the shirt a little tighter. "That's...I..."
Seokmin laughs, then. "He's right."
"Stop encouraging him. Just put the stupid shirt on and go to sleep," Minghao grouses, throwing the shirt at Mingyu.
Mingyu laughs again. Minghao is torn between wanting to hit him and kiss him. It's all very annoying. "So tsundere, Minghao-yah. Heart-fluttering."
Minghao does laugh at that one. "Alright, Mingyu. Goodnight."
"Are you really leaving?" Mingyu asks, sounding disappointed. He sits up properly, extracting himself from Seokmin's side.
"Just to the bedroom," Minghao says, amused. "It's like ten feet away."
Mingyu hums. "I don't like sleeping alone."
God, Minghao wants to kiss him. Seokmin starts petting Mingyu's hair again, comforting, and looks over at Minghao with a question in his eyes. A raised eyebrow.
Minghao sighs, resigned, before waving Seokmin on with one hand. Seokmin smiles, a dimmed version of his usual hundred-watt sunshine thing, before he turns back to Mingyu.
"Sleep in our bed," he suggests quietly, fingers curled up at the base of Mingyu's neck as he says it. "We have room."
"I don't know, he's a little big," Minghao teases, laughing at the offended little noise Mingyu gives.
"I don't want to impose," Mingyu says quietly, looking nervous for the first time all night. He's biting his lip, his brow furrowed prettily, and Minghao laughs a little.
"It's not imposing if we invite you, Mingyu. Come on, it's bedtime."
Seokmin gets up from the couch and grabs one of Mingyu's hands, pulling him up onto his feet, but he wobbles unsteadily. Minghao steps forward and grabs his other hand, and they just stand there for a minute, grinning a little at the large clumsy boy between them.
"Bed," Seokmin repeats, tugging at his hand a little, and Mingyu nods, following dutifully.
In their bedroom, Minghao and Seokmin fall into routine, making sure the lights are off in the rest of the apartment, flicking on the little bedside lamp before turning the lightswitch off. Seokmin climbs into the left side of the bed automatically, but Minghao hesitates, waiting for Mingyu. Currently he's just kind of standing near the dresser, looking at the little line of skincare products and watches and other little clutter they leave out.
"Mingyu-yah," Minghao murmurs, getting his attention easily. "You can't sleep in that. Let's go to bed."
"Right," Mingyu agrees, reaching down to the hem of his shirt and pulling it up automatically. Of course he's like this, shameless. Nothing else would make sense. Minghao averts his gaze a little on instinct, but doesn't quite stop himself from taking fleeting glances at Mingyu's broad shoulders, his lightly defined chest. It's unfair, is what it is. Mingyu almost falls over trying to remove his tight jeans and Minghao moves to steady his bare shoulder, earning him an embarrassed smile from Mingyu.
"I'm a mess," Mingyu says with a little laugh, and Minghao can't help but laugh back.
"A little, yeah," he agrees, still smiling. He tries not to stare at Mingyu's ass in his little boxer-briefs, outlining his body nicely, and instead just hands over the shirt, ready for Mingyu to stumble again as he pulls it on.
He manages it, though, head poking through with a grin. The shirt hangs down to his thighs, so god knows how long it was on Jihoon, but it looks good. It was bound to, but it does, and it's worth noting in Minghao's sleepy brain.
"Into bed, then," Minghao says, patting him on the arm lightly, and Mingyu nods, though his gaze holds steady on Minghao.
"Thank you," he says, something significant in his voice. Minghao figures it's more than just thanks for helping him take his pants off, but he can't really figure out exactly what he's being thanked for.
"You're welcome," he says instead of trying to figure it out. He considers reaching forward and grabbing his hand again, squeezing it comfortingly, but it feels like a lot right now.
And then Mingyu walks past him into bed, fitting snug against Seokmin, and that's that. Minghao follows, settling into his usual side of the bed but with a little less space than usual, and finds he doesn't really mind much.
"This is nice," Mingyu slurs, tucked neatly between them, and Minghao can't help but agree as his eyes close easily.
++
Minghao wakes up briefly at around eight in the morning, stirred by something, and he doesn't realize until he blinks his eyes open that it's the rustle of Mingyu getting out of bed.
"Hey," Minghao says, voice raspy, his eyes trying to focus on Mingyu. He's grabbing his clothes from the floor, and he looks startled as he turns to Minghao.
"Oh. Hi," Mingyu says. His voice is lower than usual, quiet, but also sounds kind of tense.
"Where you going?" Minghao asks, confused.
"Gotta head home," Mingyu says, and that's all the explanation he offers.
Minghao frowns. "You could stay, though. We could have breakfast."
Mingyu looks at him, brow furrowed. "I...thanks, but I can't."
"It's a Saturday," Minghao says. He isn't sure why he's arguing with Mingyu, it all just seems so...off. They've only known each other for a few months, but he's never known Mingyu to turn down any offered affection.
Mingyu just sighs, looking down at the floor. "You're being really nice, I just...need to go."
Minghao pauses. "Okay," he finally relents. "Will we see you later?"
"Probably not, I think I'm busy today," Mingyu says, pulling on his jeans and not quite looking at Minghao.
"Okay," Minghao says again. "Well, we'll see you soon. Yeah?"
"Yeah," Mingyu agrees, giving a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes. Minghao frowns again.
And it’s the last time they hear from him in a week.
++
Mingyu slips out of their lives about as easily as he slipped in — all of a sudden, he’s just kind of gone. First, he just starts responding to texts late, with one-word answers, a stark contrast from his usual six immediate consecutive reply messages. By Thursday he stops responding at all. He stops showing up at their apartment after work, and isn’t home the few times Minghao and Seokmin try to knock on his door. It’s radio silence, and it’s bizarre, but it also kind of stings.
It’s jarring, to realize how much of a place you’ve made for someone in your life, and then have them leave it empty.
Seokmin and Minghao haven’t really talked about it much. There’s no use, really, and he knows they’re both a little hurt, a little thrown back into the feeling of healing around a person. It’s not like Soonyoung, because no one and nothing is like Soonyoung, but there’s a familiar burn. They’ve been together for nearly six years now, and they’ve grown up together, twisted around each other like vines; there’s never been a thing wrong with it being the two of them. And it’s familiar, going back to doing things with just them. But it doesn’t stop that burn, held tight between them.
“I miss him,” Seokmin says on Friday while they wash the dishes from dinner. “Is that weird? It’s been like a week, but I miss him.”
“It’s not weird. He’s our friend,” Minghao replies quietly.
“You know it’s more than that,” Seokmin says with a sigh.
Minghao pauses. “Of course I know it’s more than that. But apparently it’s — he —” Minghao stops talking for a moment, collects his words. “I guess it’s not more than that for him.”
“He was going to kiss me, that night,” Seokmin argues, in a way that’s not really arguing. A gentle disagreement. He can probably tell how little Minghao wants to talk about this, and it’s nice of him to keep it easy.
“Maybe,” he says, trying to keep his voice normal. Not bitter, the way he’s trying not to feel. “But he didn’t. And he was drunk.”
Seokmin sighs. “Yeah.”
It’s quiet for a minute and then Minghao says, quietly, “Sorry.”
Seokmin turns the faucet off, dries his hands on a towel, before he turns Minghao and puts them on his hips. “I know. Me too. We’ll be fine, though.”
“Of course we will,” Minghao agrees automatically. If there’s one thing he ever knows, it’s that he and Seokmin will be fine. Seokmin smiles at how quick he is to say it.
“You think he’s scared?” Seokmin asks, one hand coming up to fix Minghao’s hair where it’s messy.
“I think he’s an asshole, and I’ll let him know the next time I see him,” Minghao answers coolly.
Seokmin clicks his tongue. “You won’t.”
“I will too,” Minghao argues. “You don’t know.”
“I do.”
“Do not.”
“You like him too much to leave it at that,” Seokmin says, corner of his lip upturned.
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say that’s the only thing I’ll tell him,” he grumbles.
Seokmin laughs quietly. “Ah! Then yes, I’m sure you will.”
They stay like that, looking at each other softly, Seokmin’s hands fixing Minghao’s hair, before Seokmin says, “He’ll come back around, right?”
Minghao hums, thinking it over. “If he doesn’t, he’s not the person I thought he was.”
Seokmin raises his eyebrows. “You’re really hurt, aren’t you?”
Minghao looks over Seokmin’s shoulder, avoiding his eyes. “Kind of, yeah.”
Seokmin makes a comforting noise, brings a hand up to cup Minghao’s jaw. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Minghao says quietly. “I’ll get over it. But if he could get his shit together before I have to, that would be great.”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll go fight him,” Seokmin offers.
That makes Minghao grin. “You won’t.”
“I will. I’ll fight anyone who hurts your feelings.”
Minghao laughs, stepping forward and resting his forehead against Seokmin’s. “Very valiant.”
“I’m like a knight.”
“Just like one,” Minghao agrees easily, leaning in to kiss Seokmin lightly. He does feel better, a little less tightly knotted, because Seokmin can just do that. He’s a little magic, maybe, Minghao thinks.
(Or maybe Minghao’s just really in love.)
++
Of course it’s not the right time when they finally hear from Mingyu. It’s four days later, four more days of total nothingness, and Minghao’s rush of anger and hurt has gone more cold and bitter. It’s almost off his mind entirely at the moment, because Minghao and Seokmin both coincidentally have the day off tomorrow (a rarity between the schedules of a schoolteacher and a photographer), and they decided to open a bottle of wine and get kind of tipsy on a Wednesday night.
Currently, they’ve gotten through half the bottle between them, and Minghao is on Seokmin’s lap on the couch, hands underneath his shirt, feeling warm and sated and a little bit like he needs this. It’s nice, it’s incredibly nice, just like it always has been. Nice to hear Seokmin’s breathing go irregular when Minghao moves his hands certain ways, nice to feel Seokmin broad and strong underneath him while they kiss. Seokmin is moving to take Minghao’s shirt off when his phone starts ringing loudly and violently from beside them, startling them enough that Seokmin almost knocks Minghao off his lap.
“Jesus,” Minghao breathes, irritated. He’s expecting it to be Seokmin’s parents maybe, the only people he can think of to call on a Wednesday evening (or at all), but then Seokmin says, “Oh. It’s Mingyu.”
They’re still for a moment, quiet next to the phone’s ringing, before Seokmin looks up at Minghao and answers the call.
“Hello?”
From the distance between them, Minghao can hear Mingyu’s voice loud and panicked, the sound of a baby crying in the background.
“Eunae fell, and she hit her head, but I don’t wanna call Minyoung because I don’t know if I should freak out, but I’m freaking out, and —” Minghao hears loud and clear from the cell phone, Seokmin pulling it away from his ear once he realizes Mingyu’s volume.
Minghao sits back on Seokmin’s legs, pulling away from him as he quickly realizes their evening together is over. That they’re about to rush upstairs to save the ass of someone who hasn’t spoken to them in a week in a half, who snuck out of their bed in a hurry and stopped returning their texts. He sighs, scooting off of Seokmin and standing up, fixing the way his hair has been mussed. He’s slightly irritated over it, but with the concerned look on Seokmin’s face, it’s inevitable. And, well, the three of them make a good team.
When Seokmin and Minghao get upstairs, they hear Eunae crying from outside the door. They let themselves in without knocking, figuring it’s not necessary, and they’re right; inside, Mingyu is sat on the floor with a crying Eunae, looking distressed.
“Thank god,” he says, not moving from his spot on the floor with Eunae. “She fell and hit her head, and now she won’t stop crying, and what if she has a concussion? If she has a concussion then, then I don’t know what because I don’t know anything about concussions —” Mingyu is talking a mile a minute, tripping over his words, and Minghao thinks he might be near tears. It’s...it’s almost uncomfortable, the way it pulls at his heart, the way Minghao wants so badly to take care of him after almost two weeks of absence.
He feels kind of frozen there, staring at this disaster unfold, so Seokmin is the one who steps forward. “Well, I do. I know the symptoms for kids older than Eunae, but, I mean. I know some stuff. Here,” he says, grabbing Eunae into his arms and patting her consolingly on the back.
Seokmin speaks to Mingyu in a soothing voice, comforting Eunae, and Minghao does what he does best and follows behind them worrying about the details and the mess. The emotional mess, in this case, as he grabs tissues for Mingyu and looks over Eunae for sign of injury. No bleeding, maybe a little bump on the side of her head if he looks close, the start of a bruise.
“Has she seemed sleepy or dizzy?” Seokmin asks calmly. Mingyu says something in response, but Minghao is busy going to the kitchen to find baby food, just in case that’ll calm Eunae down.
When he gets back, Seokmin is still rocking Eunae, whose crying is getting quieter. “I think she just was hurt and upset by it, but she seems okay. She seems normal, right? I mean, besides the crying.”
“I don’t know, that seems pretty normal to me,” Minghao says in a flat voice. Seokmin nudges him with an elbow.
“Yeah, I mean, I think so. I don’t know, I’m fucking —” Mingyu stops again, sounding overwhelmed. “I’m no good at doing this by myself.”
Minghao and Seokmin go quiet, neither of them saying anything to that. Minghao just steps forward with the baby food, stepping over toward Eunae’s mouth with a spoon extended. She takes a few experimental bites between whines, but then she seems fed up with the idea, going back to crying.
Alright. On to the next, he thinks as he pulls one of her pacifiers up off the table and holds it out to her. She seems slightly more interested in that, and takes it into her mouth easily enough, the act silencing her crying.
The room is quiet without Eunae’s noise, and Seokmin and Minghao just stand there staring at her. Eventually Mingyu appears too, staring down at the baby, who looks pretty content now even though her face is still red from crying.
“I think she’s fine, Mingyu,” Minghao voices kind of uselessly, just to fill the quiet.
“Yeah, I...I guess so,” Mingyu agrees, sounding tired. “I...sorry. I freaked out. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Seokmin says kindly, but Minghao just crosses his arms, his annoyance bleeding back through now that crisis is averted.
“Should we just leave now, or what?” Minghao asks, voice coming out a little cold. Mingyu looks over at him, expression hard to read. “I mean, we did our emergency routine. That’s apparently the only reason you’d talk to us, so.”
“Minghao,” Seokmin says with a sigh, but Minghao stays looking at Mingyu, gaze hard. Mingyu looks down, and the guilt is visible on his face but it doesn’t do a thing to melt the ice in Minghao’s blood.
“I’m…” Mingyu starts, voice quiet, and he sighs. “I’m really sorry.”
“For what, completely ghosting us for no reason and being a huge asshole, or —” Minghao stops himself from thinking about the way he almost-kissed them both that night, the way Minghao had gotten his hopes up. He stops his mouth, presses his lips together like he needs to restrain them. “Or what?” He finishes lamely, quieter.
“Minghao,” Seokmin says again, warning, and Minghao glances at him with something less than a glare but definitely in the same family.
It’s how they’ve always been; Minghao’s a little too confrontational and Seokmin’s a little too pacifying and sometimes, this is how it plays out. With Minghao being as blunt as the situation requires, Seokmin trying to pull him back into something calm and kind, and Minghao not having much of it.
“I’m being honest,” Minghao tells Seokmin simply. Seokmin, still holding Eunae, just shakes his head at Minghao.
“You’re being —” Seokmin starts, but he just shakes his head again.
“Am I wrong?” Minghao asks Seokmin, challenging.
“This maybe isn’t the best time for this conversation,” Seokmin says with raised eyebrows, gesturing to the baby still in his arms, sucking on her pacifier calmly.
“Well I’m taking my opportunities when they come, because apparently they’re few and far between now,” Minghao says. It’s petty, but whatever. He feels a little petty.
“I get it,” Mingyu says, crossing his arms. “You can quit guilting me now.”
“This isn’t me guilting you, this is me mad at you, asshole,” Minghao says with a glare. “I have no interest in your guilt.”
“I’m trying to —” Mingyu starts, sounding a little irritated himself, but Minghao cuts him off.
“You get to talk when I’m done,” he says, and Mingyu snorts.
“And I’m being an asshole?” He asks, brow furrowed.
Seokmin makes a frustrated noise and steps between them. “You’re both being assholes. Be quiet and wait for a minute.” His voice has an edge and Minghao has the sense to listen to directions, swallowing his words and crossing his arms where he stands. Seokmin walks off, over to the little baby pen in the corner and puts Eunae in it with a few toys before walking back.
Minghao and Mingyu stand there, scowling sort of around each other instead of at each other, and Minghao figures it probably looks funny from the outside, the two of them putting their argument on pause because Seokmin told them to.
“Both of you sit down,” Seokmin says, voice calm but firm. Sometimes Minghao forgets that conflict resolution is roughly half of Seokmin’s job as a kindergarten teacher, and how good he is at managing people when he needs to. (He’s not going to say it’s attractive, because it’s kind of a weird time for that, but it is, a little bit.)
The two of them go along, heads ducked as they sit down on opposite ends of Mingyu’s couch, Seokmin standing in front of them with his hands on his hips.
“You,” Seokmin says, pointing at Mingyu, “Did something shitty and owe us an explanation.”
Mingyu goes to speak, but Seokmin waves his hand, instead switching his finger to point at Minghao. “And you don’t get to be a dick just because your feelings are hurt.”
Minghao has an urge to say something back, but Seokmin’s eyebrows are raised at him warningly, and Minghao closes his mouth again, sulking. Seokmin nods in approval.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Mingyu says quietly from his end of the couch.
“You left after — after that night and you avoided us for almost two weeks. We’re friends. Of course you hurt our feelings,” Seokmin responds calmly, rationally. Minghao hates that he finds Seokmin’s emotional stability hot; where is he in life, exactly? “So like I said, you owe us an explanation. And maybe now’s not the best time, with the baby and everything, so if you want to take some time —”
“No,” Mingyu interrupts him, shaking his head. “I...no, now is fine. I feel weird with you standing, though.”
Seokmin offers a kind of apologetic grin at that, and moves to sit down in the chair next to the couch, looking at Mingyu expectantly. Minghao follows suit, albeit a little begrudging.
“I was embarrassed,” Mingyu admits finally, not looking at either of them but down at the fabric on the couch his nails are scratching against nervously. “I...I showed up drunk and I made a fool of myself and I was embarrassed.”
“Everybody gets drunk and makes a fool of themselves sometimes, they usually don’t disappear for a week and a half,” Minghao grumbles.
Mingyu sighs. “I was embarrassed because I crossed a line, and I felt really bad.”
At that, Minghao looks up, slightly confused. Seokmin shares his look. “What line, exactly?” Seokmin asks.
Mingyu looks embarrassed now, cheeks pink, eyes averted. “I was all over the two of you. I barged my way into your bed. It’s so embarrassing — I’m a goddamn adult and I got too drunk and came onto my friends.”
Minghao is quiet for a moment, glancing over at Seokmin with a raised eyebrow.
“Mingyu,” Seokmin starts quietly, calmly. “You didn’t barge into anything.”
Mingyu looks up at him with his red face and his guilty expression, and waits for an explanation.
“We invited you,” Minghao follows up with. “Into our apartment and onto our couch and...into our bed. We invited you.”
“We’re friends and I overstepped a boundary,” Mingyu argues, looking confused.
Minghao raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, and offers in a deadpan voice, “We’re a poly couple who have been flirting with you for weeks.”
Seokmin laughs at that, surprised, and Mingyu’s really red now.
“So what are you saying?” Mingyu asks.
“I’m saying you’re an idiot,” Minghao responds easily.
“Hey,” Mingyu mutters defensively. “I...I don’t know how to read cues for this, okay? You said it’s not a thing that happens a lot, that your last — your last boyfriend — he was your best friend or whatever. How was I supposed to know that it was okay?”
“Besides us telling you that it was okay at multiple points in time? Besides Seokmin bending over backwards to flirt with your dumb ass?” Minghao asks with a snort.
“I thought he was just like that,” Mingyu says blankly.
“I don’t even like kids, and I help you take care of a baby like once a week,” Minghao says. “Because you’re all handsome and endearing and shit. God. Mingyu, come on.”
“You can’t fault people for not picking up on your flawless completely nonverbal, noncommital offers of romance, Minghao,” Seokmin criticizes. “You’re like a kid on a playground giving someone a flower and sprinting away.”
“Hey, this isn’t about me,” Minghao says with a glare in Seokmin’s direction. Seokmin smirks.
“You think I’m handsome and endearing?” Mingyu asks, sounding a little flustered.
Minghao gives him an incredulous look. “I imagine everyone on earth does, yeah.”
“Well,” Mingyu mutters. “I care more about the fact that you do.”
“Well, I do. So there,” Minghao says.
“This is honestly torture to watch,” Seokmin comments dryly from his chair, looking unimpressed with them. “How am I supposed to put up with this?”
“You know what Seokmin, if you think you’re so good at this, then you do it,” Minghao aims at him, rolling his eyes.
“Alright,” Seokmin agrees with a nod, absorbing Minghao’s sarcasm and converting it effortlessly into sincerity, the Lee Seokmin special. “Mingyu, we like you. As in, we are both attracted to you and would like to date you. We’ve felt this way for a while, and I’m sorry we weren’t more clear about it.”
“You sound like you’re reading from a script,” Minghao complains quietly.
“Kiss my ass,” Seokmin aims at him lightly, rolling his eyes, before turning back to Mingyu with his normal kind expression.
“You want to...date me?” Mingyu asks, sounding disbelieving. It’s cute, Minghao admits to himself. Mingyu looks extremely cute right now, cheeks flushed, eyes a little wide.
“Yes,” Minghao says with a groan. “You’re killing me.”
“Ignore him, he’s just getting hives from all this open emotional communication,” Seokmin says, waving a hand in Minghao’s direction.
“For the last time, Seokmin, I swear —” Minghao snaps at Seokmin, but Seokmin just keeps waving his hand in the direction of Minghao’s face.
Mingyu giggles a little, biting at his bottom lip. “You two are ridiculous.”
“A little, yeah,” Seokmin agrees easily with a smile. “You don’t need to give us an answer right now. I know it might be kind of a lot.”
“It is kind of a lot,” Mingyu agrees. “I want it, though. I want to.”
Minghao looks over at him carefully, trying to ignore the excited little leap in his stomach. “Yeah?” He asks.
“Yeah,” Mingyu answers with a nod and a shy little smile that endears Mingyu an unfair amount. “I’ve never done this kind of thing, but...I want to. With you.”
“We want to, too,” Seokmin replies, laughing a little. His smile is blinding, and both Minghao and Mingyu seem to visibly melt a little. Powerful.
It’s at that moment that Eunae chooses to stop being cooperative, her pacifier falling out of her mouth followed by a little yelp of a cry about it.
“So...okay,” Mingyu says, nodding with a smile. “Yeah.”
“Eloquent,” Minghao comments with a snort, but he can’t keep the grin off his face, either. Eunae’s little whimpering noises are getting louder, really threatening to cry, but the three of them are still just sat there, staring dumbly at each other.
“The baby,” Mingyu finally mutters, standing up from the couch but having trouble tearing his eyes away from Seokmin and Minghao.
“Yeah,” Seokmin agrees, smirking a little at the vacant look on Mingyu’s face. “We’ll be here.”
“Sure, right,” Mingyu agrees, still smiling, and he almost trips over the coffee table trying to walk over.
Seokmin catches Minghao’s eye, grinning, and Minghao’s known him long enough to catch what the minute differences in his smiles mean. Right now, the way his eyebrows are raised, he’s smiling to say, This one’s going to be fun. And Minghao thinks he agrees.
++
“You don’t have to come,” Mingyu had said, sounding vaguely like a high schooler trying to ask someone to a dance.
“Don’t be stupid,” Minghao replied easily, because Mingyu was being stupid.
“Minghao never turns down invitations to theme parks,” Seokmin said with a nod.
“And you?” Mingyu asked curiously, lips upturned.
“I usually go where he goes,” Seokmin said, rolling his eyes and waving a hand as if to say what can you do?
Seokmin wasn’t wrong, but usually Minghao isn’t getting invited to theme parks with two men he’s dating, one of their sisters, and an eighteen-month-old baby. Still, it’s pretty good.
“Minyoung-ah,” Mingyu whines, pouting after she made some joke at his expense that Minghao only caught half of, with the way she’s leading the pack as they wind through the little walkways of amusement park things. Food carts, big plywood boards with animated characters on them. Mingyu has Eunae strapped to his back in one of those backpack-type things, and it makes him look older than he is in a funny kind of way.
“People are gonna think we’re married,” Minyoung said with a grimace when he offered to carry the baby.
“Gross,” he agreed.
“I mean, the reality is that a single mother brought her baby, her brother and his two boyfriends to a baby park, so I guess I don’t blame them for trying to cling to a normal explanation,” Minyoung mused with a sigh. “I’d rather be mistaken for Seokmin’s wife, though.”
Minghao laughed easily. He liked Minyoung already. “Understandable.”
It was an indoor amusement park, a big baby play place drawing Minyoung (and Eunae by extension), but there were bigger rides too, further into the park. Currently, Eunae is being very agreeable, babbling happily on Mingyu’s back as they follow behind Minyoung. She’s tall, shorter than the three of them but still tall, and she and Mingyu look eerily alike. Their faces do the same thing when they press their mouth into an irritated line, their cheeks puffing out cutely, like mice. She’s sarcastic and funny and Minghao kind of loves her.
“I told him to invite you, you know,” she says, turning around to look at Seokmin and Minghao. “I know you’ve been helping out with Eunae when I’ve been working late, and Mingyu hasn’t shut the hell up about you for like months, so.”
“Minyoung-ah!” Mingyu scolds again, sounding put-upon. “That’s embarrassing.”
“Uh yeah, that’s literally my job. Keep up, oppa,” Minyoung says, rolling her eyes at him.
“I want to hang out with Minyoung more,” Minghao says happily.
“I’m more fun than Mingyu, that’s for sure,” Minyoung agrees with a smile that’s strikingly similar to Mingyu’s.
“Don’t take it personally, he likes my sister more than me too,” Seokmin says to Mingyu, smiling sympathetically.
“Seokmin, your sister is an angel,” Minghao explains, like this says it all. “I mean, you’re an angel too, but she’s an angel.”
“I know,” Seokmin sighs. “Imagine having to live up to that all your life.”
“You’re doing a very good job,” Minghao assures him, patting him on the back. “We’re all very proud.”
Mingyu snorts a laugh at their antics, shaking his head. “Do I have to worry about getting dumped for my sister?”
Minghao smirks. “Unfortunately, not an option for me, but by Seokminnie, maybe.”
“Aw, me stealing your boyfriends is so nostalgic,” Minyoung says, turning around to pat Mingyu’s cheek.
“That sounds like a good story,” Seokmin comments.
“Don’t go to the same college as your sister,” Mingyu laments. “It’s terrible.”
They’re en route to the baby park, the sign in pastel letters, and when they finally get inside Minghao finds himself surrounded by more infants than he ever thought possible in life. He feels distinctly out of place among the young families, but then again, maybe that’s why Minyoung wanted company. He imagines he would feel even more out of place if he was alone with a baby.
It’s kind of fun, all things considered. Eunae walks and crawls around little padded play equipment, playing little games with the other babies. Seokmin is too friendly, chatting casually with all the parents and making conversation easily, because that’s what he does. Mingyu and Minghao drift together, shying away from other people and mostly just laughing when Eunae does something ridiculous, as babies are wont to do.
“I can’t believe you don’t really like babies,” Mingyu says.
Minghao shrugs. “They’re fine. They just kind of stress me out. I like Eunae, though.”
“That’s because she’s an extremely good baby,” Mingyu insists, like he’s challenging Minghao to disagree.
“Of course she is,” Minghao agrees easily with a smile, reaching down to hold Mingyu’s hand just because he wants to. Mingyu goes a little pink, still easily flustered by Seokmin and Minghao giving him affection, and it makes Minghao laugh.
“You’re cute,” Minghao tells him, just to see him look even more flustered.
“I — thank you,” Mingyu manages, finally squeezing Minghao’s hand back. Minghao just smiles, satisfied, turning back to where Minyoung is helping Eunae push a ball clumsily.
Eventually, Eunae gets tired from all the walking and moving (Minghao can relate to this aspect of baby life), and falls asleep in the stroller they had all collapsed up in a bag.
“You gonna go on the big kid rides?” Minyoung asks.
“Absolutely,” Minghao answers at the same time that Mingyu and Seokmin make noncommittal noises.
“No, not another one,” Minghao whines, turning to look at Mingyu’s grimace. “Not again!”
“Oh thank god,” Seokmin says with a relieved breath. “Finally, someone to end his power.”
“I’m scared of heights,” Mingyu says, making a face. Minyoung boos. God, Minghao loves Minyoung.
“Do you know how many roller coasters I’ve been dragged onto?” Seokmin asks, sounding long-suffering. “I could have died. I’ve faced death so many times.”
“I can’t believe this betrayal,” Minghao says with a dramatic sigh. “How am I supposed to date two men who are allergic to fun?”
“Fuck them, I’ll go with you,” Minyoung offers easily. MInghao turns to her, gives her an approving nod, and offers a hand for a high-five, which she finishes. “They can watch the baby, like the babies they are. Sorry, Seokmin-oppa.”
“No, it’s fair,” Seokmin says, nodding. “Have fun being very cool and adventurous.”
“That’s me,” Minghao says with a smirk, leaning in to kiss him lightly before walking off. On a whim he moves over a couple steps and tilts his head up to kiss Mingyu, too. “Bye, dummies.”
“Boy, he’s really going through it, huh?” Minyoung asks, looking back at Mingyu’s kind of dumbfounded expression.
“I’m assuming he’ll adapt, eventually,” Minghao says with a shrug. “It’s new.”
“Not to get all sister-y, but you guys seem good for him,” Minyoung tells him, voice still casual but her face serious. “He really likes you. Both of you. He was all torn up about it for a while.”
“Well, at least he sorted it out,” Minghao says with a smirk. “Thanks, though.”
Minyoung nods. “And thanks for like, helping him, with Eunae. He babysits to be nice and he’s out of his depth.” Her face takes on something different there, something less joking even if her voice hasn’t changed, and Minghao looks at her carefully.
“He’s fine, you know,” Minghao assures her. “Yeah, he freaks out sometimes, but he’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
“Yeah, well. You guys help him be more fine, so. Thanks.”
Minghao nods. “You’re welcome.”
Minyoung is a good roller coaster partner, laughing and yelling as loud as he does and sharing big smiles when they get off rides. They spend an hour or so like that, Mingyu and Seokmin following them around while they go on the fun rides, Eunae sleeping soundly through the noise of machinery and screaming.
“Come on,” Minghao whines, pulling at Seokmin’s arm. “Just one. It’s not even scary, Seokminnie. It’s the pirate ship.”
“Still scary,” Seokmin argues, shaking his head and standing his ground.
“Mingyu?” Minghao asks, eyebrows raised in his best attempt at puppydog eyes. He’s kind of good at it, if he really tries; used to be better, before he lost the baby fat in his cheeks and got all sharp. He bites his lip and reaches out to hold Mingyu’s hands, pleading. He thinks Junhui would be proud of him right now.
Mingyu, for all his fear of heights, sighs and closes his eyes. “I’ll go if Seokmin goes.”
“Mingyu, no, you can’t do this to me,” Seokmin whines, distress in his voice. “We have to stick together.”
Mingyu just shakes his head, like it’s out of his control, and Minghao moves back over in front of Seokmin and crowds close to him. “It’ll be fun, we’ll all go together. I’ll hold your hand. Come on, Seokminnie.”
“It won’t be fun,” Seokmin argues with a pout. “But I’ll go.”
Minghao smiles at him, leans in to kiss his cheek. “Nice.”
Seokmin and Mingyu spend their whole time waiting in line chattering nervously and whining when they see the pirate ship ride start moving.
“There are literal children on this,” Minghao argues, gesturing to the elementary students visible on the ride.
“They’re stupid,” Seokmin argues. “They have no self-preservation yet.”
Minghao just rolls his eyes, letting Seokmin and Mingyu hold his hands in their nervousness.
They’re even worse once they’re on the ride, both of them occasionally letting out a scared little moan as they wait for the ride to start. All in all, it’s absurd; the ride moves five feet and Mingyu and Seokmin are in hysterics, clutching at Minghao from either side while he tries to control how loud his cackling is getting. As the pirate ship arcs up to its highest point, Mingyu sounds like he’s actually losing his mind, and Minghao distantly feels bad. The more prevalent feeling is still amusement, but there’s sympathy somewhere in there.
“Never again,” Seokmin moans as they get off, leaning over onto Minghao’s shoulder. Mingyu makes a sympathetic noise.
“Ridiculous,” Minghao laughs, but he puts an arm around each of their waists, letting them lean on him as they make their way back to Minyoung and Eunae.
“I think they heard them screaming from outer space,” Minyoung teases, and Seokmin and Mingyu make another round of complaining noises.
“They’re very sensitive right now,” Minghao says, giving Minyoung a look.
“RIght, yes, of course. Good thing they have you to take care of them,” Minyoung says with a smirk.
“Of course,” Minghao deadpans, and Minyoung laughs loudly.
Eunae’s awake again and kind of fussy, which means it’s time to leave, and their walk out is spent with Seokmin and Mingyu complaining endlessly. Minghao just shakes his head, but keeps his arms around their waists, the three of them walking tight together.
++
They haven’t gone on a lot of dates, per se. It’s hard to find time for, between three people’s schedules, and it’s easier to just carry on like they had before, hanging out on couches with casual conversation (and a little more kissing, now.) Still, they’ve been an amorphous thing for about a month now, and no real dates.
“I don’t like it,” Mingyu says, pouting in his kitchen. “I like dates. They’re fun.”
“We’ve been together for six years, our ideas ran out a long time ago,” Seokmin says. “But if you want to go on dates, we can go on dates.”
Minghao’s making a face so that just Seokmin can see, displeased. Going outside? Spending money? These both sound like things Minghao doesn’t have time for. Seokmin gives him a little look, one that says, “Try a little,” and Minghao rolls his eyes but nods slightly.
“We should go ice skating,” Mingyu offers, leaning on his elbow on the counter, sounding a little wistful. “I’ve always wanted to do that as a date.”
“That’s cute,” Minghao admits. “That you’ve always wanted to, I mean. Ice skating itself isn’t that cute.”
Seokmin gives him another look, an eyebrow raised.
“What? I’ll do it, I’m just saying.”
Mingyu is just looking at him half-amused. “Well, I think it’s cute, so we should do it.”
“Anything for you,” Minghao agrees, and Mingyu does laugh at that.
“Liar,” he accuses, and Seokmin laughs.
“Obviously,” Minghao agrees, walking around the counter to pass Mingyu and kissing his cheek as he goes.
They finally manage to all be free for ice-skating about a week later, the three of them bundled in winter clothes to go be cold inside. (Minghao thinks ice skating is dumb.) What’s nice is that Mingyu and Seokmin look extremely nice in winter clothes, their handsome little jackets and scarves making them look like lead actors in a drama or something. Mingyu’s got his glasses on and everything, and Minghao wants very much to kiss him, right here in the middle of the loud ice rink. But it’s cold and slippery, and they’re on a real-live date, so Minghao figures he’ll save it for later.
The pros: Ice skating is fun, his boyfriends look great, there’s a lot of hand-holding.
The cons: It’s cold, it’s crowded, and Mingyu falls on his ass once per minute but especially badly about forty minutes in, twisting his ankle weird on the way down.
“We should leave before you kill yourself,” Minghao suggests as they help him back up to his feet (again.)
“Are you okay though?” Seokmin asks, concerned.
Mingyu nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. Minghao’s probably right.”
“It was a good date, though,” Minghao tells him consolingly, petting his hair. “I generally prefer dates with less physical injury, but that’s just me.”
Mingyu snorts out a laugh as he scoots his way off the ice, back to the plastic benches outside the rink. “It’s still early. We could go back to my place, I could cook you dinner?” Mingyu asks hopefully.
“How is that different than a usual Saturday night?” Seokmin asks with a little laugh.
Mingyu pouts. “Because this is a date,” he insists.
“Sure, of course,” Seokmin agrees, reaching out to rest a hand on Mingyu’s cheek. “Sorry for questioning you.”
Mingyu is a good cook. This is something they’ve known for a long time, but tonight, he seems particularly focused. He’s cooking them steak and everything, fancy ingredients Minghao doesn’t know how to use spread on the counter as Minghao and Seokmin sit at the little island (that Mingyu must have bought himself, because their own apartment doesn’t have one), just kind of watching him work.
There’s something about the concentrated little furrow in Mingyu’s brow that makes Minghao smile a little, half a grin at the way Mingyu throws himself into things.
“There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge,” Mingyu mentions at one point, wiping a spot of some red spice off his arm.
“This is fancier than usual,” Seokmin comments, getting up to open it.
“This is me on a date,” Mingyu explains simply.
Seokmin makes a little ooh noise, wiggling his shoulders with a laugh. “Special.”
“A little, yeah,” Mingyu agrees, a bashful kind of smile on his face.
“What, are you trying to seduce us?” Minghao asks with a smirk. “Because not to burst your bubble, but you probably could have done it without the steak.”
Mingyu pouts, and Minghao laughs quietly. “Look, I know you guys are all married and boring, but I’m not, and I’m trying to put some effort into this. You guys are worth effort.” He sounds kind of embarrassed after he says it, and damn if Kim Mingyu isn’t completely charming at all times, even when he doesn’t mean to be.
“That’s sweet,” Seokmin says in a cooing voice, standing up again to walk over to Mingyu and press himself against him, hands going around Mingyu’s back. “We appreciate the effort.”
“Could have done without the insults, though,” Minghao comments. “Joking,” he adds when Seokmin gives him a look.
Seokmin leans up and kisses Mingyu soft and slow, purposeful; it’s always good to be an outside observer to things like this, Minghao thinks. He knows what it feels like when Seokmin kisses him like that but it’s nice to see it too, to see Mingyu melt into it easily on the other end of it.
Seokmin brings one of his hands up to hold Mingyu’s jaw, his touch light, and Minghao feels enraptured by it, the sight of them. When Seokmin pulls back, Mingyu takes a moment to open his eyes again, dazed, and Minghao smiles warmly.
“Don’t take us seriously, Mingyu-yah. It’s very flattering for you to treat us so well,” Seokmin tells Mingyu softly.
All Mingyu can do is nod a little dumbly, still captured in Seokmin’s arms until he moves away smiling.
“And anyway,” Seokmin says in a more normal voice. “Don’t let Minghao fool you, he’s a big romantic.”
Minghao rolls his eyes, but doesn’t bother disagreeing, and his silence seems to catch Mingyu’s attention. “Oh?”
“I’m not gonna argue it,” Minghao says, shrugging. “You got me, I love love.”
“He’s very sensitive,” Seokmin informs Mingyu with a little smile aimed at Minghao. “You know those artsy types.”
“I do,” Mingyu agrees with a grin.
Minghao rolls his eyes again.
“So why are you making fun of my date, then?” Mingyu asks curiously.
“First of all, I’m not. I think it’s cute. Second of all, being a romantic doesn’t mean I support the idea that romance means taking people out and spending money on them. It’s the person you’re with — people you’re with — that matter. Not what little outing you do,” Minghao says, taking a sip of wine when he’s done. It’s white and sweet and seems very much like something Mingyu would have in his fridge.
Mingyu’s looking at him, kind of a funny look on his face. “You’re so — I really like you.”
It’s out of nowhere, seemingly, and it kind of takes Minghao aback, his face going pink on instinct. “Thanks,” he mutters back. Mingyu just stays looking at him for a minute before his steak sizzles aggressively, and he has to turn back to the stove to tend to it.
Seokmin is smiling at him too, and Minghao feels warm (albeit a little flustered) at the attention. He kind of forgot that feeling, what it’s like when there’s two sets of eyes on you, looking at you like you’re something special.
Dinner is the same as dinner always is with the three of them; they’ve gotten pretty used to it, over the past few months. Seokmin gesticulates excitedly and drops food on the ground; Mingyu talks with his mouth full sometimes; Minghao laughs under his breath at the two idiots he keeps company with.
“Good date,” Minghao says afterward, when Seokmin clears the table to be nice.
Mingyu looks at him with a raised eyebrow, suspicious, and Minghao laughs. “I’m being serious. It was nice.”
“Oh,” Mingyu says, a smile spreading across his face. “Well, thanks.”
Seokmin is singing while he rinses dishes, typical, and Mingyu glances at him before turning back to Minghao. They’re leaned kind of close together over the dining table, and Minghao doesn’t stop himself from glancing down at Mingyu’s lips quickly. It’s not subtle, not the kind of thing he’s embarrassed to be caught in, and it’s funny watching Mingyu catch it. It’s funny in general how easy Mingyu is to read, how he wears every emotion easily.
Right now, he looks focused, a little intense. Kind of hot, but that’s normal. Mingyu is always kind of hot, even when he’s cleaning up a bottle of soda he spilled. Annoying.
“Those glasses look really good on you,” Minghao tells him, not for the first time. Minghao is partial to glasses in general, really; Seokmin’s stupid reading glasses are a particularly embarrassing weak spot for him.
Mingyu gives him something like a smirk, resting his chin on his hand, emphasizing his jaw and his neck. Mingyu might be a clumsy puppy of a man sometimes, but you don’t get through life looking as good as him without knowing your damn angles. At the moment, after a whole two glasses of wine, Minghao would very much like to sit in his lap and make him stop smirking. Which, actually, why isn’t he?
Minghao hums quietly to himself. “Come on,” he says finally, standing up and extending a hand out to Mingyu.
Mingyu laughs a little, shaken out of his pose. “Where are we going?”
“This isn’t a good place to kiss you. Too much table in the way,” Minghao explains simply, takes pleasure in the way Mingyu raises his eyebrows.
“Practical,” he mutters, taking Minghao’s hand and following behind him.
Minghao pushes Mingyu down onto the couch unceremoniously, and he laughs as he falls. Minghao smiles back as he sits down, straddled across Mingyu’s lap, arms resting around the back of his neck. They’re just kind of smiling at each other, faces close, and Mingyu’s hand moves experimentally to Minghao’s thigh.
They’re nearing uncharted waters here; there’s no particular reason the three of them haven’t messed around much, mostly just busy schedules and a sense of wanting to ease Mingyu into things from Minghao and Seokmin. Mingyu, for his part, seems pretty eased, fingers tightening on Minghao’s thigh.
“You’re really hot,” Mingyu offers, still grinning a little while he says it.
It’s Minghao’s turn to smirk now, bringing a hand up to take off Mingyu’s glasses and set them on Mingyu’s coffee table. “Yeah, I know.”
That’s all it takes for Mingyu to surge forward, kiss him with a purpose. One of Mingyu’s hands is still gripped on his thigh, and the other comes up to his back, pulls him closer in until they’re pressed together. Minghao already knew Mingyu was a good kisser (Minghao thinks it’s maybe another thing in life you develop when you look how Mingyu does), but it’s nice to remember.
“Oh,” Minghao hears from behind him, and he pulls away from Mingyu with half a smirk still intact. “We’re doing this now?”
“I mean, I am,” Minghao answers easily, not bothering to turn around to face Seokmin. “Feel free to make your own choices.”
“Sure, sure,” Seokmin agrees easily, walking over to them. “You don’t get to have all the fun though, Minghao.”
Mingyu hasn’t done much more than look between them while they talk, looking vaguely overwhelmed. Seokmin sits down next to them on the couch, reaches out to smooth Minghao’s hair with a smile. “Hi,” he says quietly.
“Mhm,” Minghao murmurs, lips still upturned.
“He’s good like this, right?” Seokmin asks, turning to Mingyu, moving a hand down his arm softly.
Mingyu nods in agreement, eyes still locked on Minghao, and there’s that feeling again, the feeling of an audience. Sometimes, Minghao misses performing on a stage; he was never like Soonyoung, never needed it to breathe, but god it felt good sometimes.
Mingyu is still looking up at him, fingers moving almost imperceptibly against his leg, and Minghao smiles before he leans down and kisses Mingyu again. Except this time, Seokmin is there, his hand resting on Minghao’s other thigh, and god is that nice. Seokmin is less shy (god knows they’ve done this enough times), and it’s an interesting contrast.
“Minghao,” Seokmin mutters quietly some moments later, and Minghao pulls away from Mingyu to turn his head, leaving Mingyu with dark eyes and parted lips, chasing after him. But Seokmin is leaning forward, capturing Minghao in a kiss of his own. Minghao feels Mingyu’s hands tighten on him, and oh, that’s interesting. Minghao’s caught by surprise when Mingyu tips forward to kiss at Minghao’s neck, and he opens his mouth in a gasp, giving Seokmin an chance to bite at his lower lip.
It’s a careful little choreography, the three of them finding a rhythm together. Mingyu reacts with a jolt at every new point of contact, every time Minghao or Seokmin do something unexpected, and it’s a little thrilling to get such a reaction.
To be honest, the first time Minghao rolls his hips is unintentional, an instinct when Mingyu finds a sensitive spot on the side of his neck, but the way it makes Mingyu whimper is enough reason to start doing it on purpose. Mingyu’s legs fall wider apart and they’re kind of a mess, tangled together on the couch clumsily.
“This would be more enjoyable on a horizontal surface, probably,” Minghao breathes out, sitting up a little to look between Mingyu and Seokmin.
“Is that okay?” Seokmin asks Mingyu, voice steady.
“Very, yes,” Mingyu says in a rush of words, making Minghao and Seokmin smile.
“Great.” Minghao stands up, stretching out the burn in his thighs from the position, and waits for Seokmin and Mingyu to do the same but they’re distracted with each other, Seokmin leaned over with a hand on Mingyu’s chest, kissing him.
“Whatever,” Minghao says. “I’m not above starting without you.”
And that gets the two of them moving a little quicker.
(It’s something out of a fantasy, watching Mingyu go so pliant for him and Seokmin, listening to the sound of Seokmin’s soft laughter and Mingyu’s rough breathing.
“Funny,” Seokmin says at one point, a hand braced on Mingyu’s hip as he hovers just above the waistband of Mingyu’s underwear. “Didn’t peg you for a put-out-on-the-first-date kind of guy.”
“Shut up,” Mingyu says with a laugh, the end of it turning into a groan when Seokmin’s long fingers trail down to pull at his waistband.
“What do you want?” Minghao asks later, when Mingyu’s a little more ragged, eyes half-lidded and lips bitten pink.
“Just want you two,” Mingyu answered simply. And Minghao couldn’t say no to that if he tried.)
++
Minghao missed the feeling of sleeping between two people, warm on both sides, soft hands petting at him lightly until he falls asleep.
Unfortunately, tonight his sleep is interrupted by a startled noise and the feeling of the mattress bouncing on one side. Minghao groans quietly, blinking open an eye to try to take in the scene in the darkness.
Mingyu’s half-in bed, still mostly naked from earlier and clutching a (thankfully not very full) cup of water. The reason for his noise isn’t clear, and Minghao furrows his eyebrows. “The hell?”
“I got up to get a drink, and I was getting back into bed and Seokmin scared me,” Mingyu says in explanation, voice hushed.
Seokmin says something then, unintelligible but in a normal speaking tone, eyes still closed tight.
“Oh,” Minghao mutters, turning over onto his stomach. “He talks in his sleep.”
Mingyu pauses, then laughs quietly. “Really?”
“Yeah, too big of a loudmouth to save it for the waking hours,” Minghao says with a grin. “You get used to it. It used to wake me up all the time.”
“Anything interesting?” Mingyu asks, sounding amused.
“Mostly he just talks about food, and makes plans. He’ll get mad at me for not remembering we had dinner plans that he declared in his sleep.”
“That’s kind of cute,” Mingyu says. He’s finally back in bed now, moving to cuddle up against Minghao.
“Seokminnie is extremely cute all the time,” Minghao agrees sleepily. “I mean, this isn’t very cute, but it has its moments.”
“Mm,” Mingyu hums, reaching out to play with Minghao’s hair. “Tonight was really good.”
Minghao makes a content little noise, agreeing wholeheartedly, leaning into Mingyu’s touch.
“I’m really glad I…” Mingyu trails off quietly, fingers scratching along the nape of Minghao’s neck. “I’m just really glad. About us.”
Minghao smiles at the sweetness of it, at Mingyu’s nervous tone. “Me too, Mingyu-yah,” he says earnestly, grabbing Mingyu’s wrist with his hand.
“Jagiya,” Seokmin whines in his sleep, and the two of them laugh quietly.
“Romantic,” Mingyu says, nose scrunched in amusement.
“Yeah, well. That’s us,” Minghao says, looking over at Mingyu and thinking about how he could really, really get used to this.