Work Text:
Kim Seungmin was an idiot.
He watched his phone ring, he set the song to one produced by his friends, Collision, by 3RACHA. ‘ Did you hate me that much? We're meant to be, I told you, we're like stars in the sky’ The words echoed in his head, written by none other than Han Jisung. The lyrics are so ironic, they perfectly reflected his current predicament - Lee Minho.
He debated not answering at all, it was 3am in the morning and he had many better things he could be doing, like finally finishing the drama Hyunjin has been begging him to watch, or catching up on paperwork.
Well, he does neither of those things. He picks up the phone, and sighs into the microphone. “Hyung?” he hears giggling from the other end, “Minho hyung? Are you drunk?” Stupid question, of course he’s drunk. Ever since Jisung started dating Hyunjin, everything went downhill from there.
Seungmin felt his own world collapse that day, Hyunjin had always been a romantic, Jisung was perfect for him. Seungmin was bland, he was entertaining enough for a conversation but his words fell flat to Hyunjin’s beautiful poetry, everything about him was beautiful. That night, Seungmin and Minho found each other outside the club, equally upset, and well, they ended up using each other to blow off some steam.
They didn’t speak to each other, and for their first time they didn’t even kiss. Seungmin tries to forget the pain from that night, the ache in his stomach when Minho immediately flipped him over, the heartbreak he felt when he heard his hyung moan Jisung’s name and not his.
It wasn’t healthy, so why couldn’t either of them let go?
Seungmin could imagine that Minho’s fingers were Hyunjin’s long and dainty ones, that his mouth was the same one that uttered praise that Hyunjin said after he heard Seungmin’s voice. He could play pretend, and in return, Minho could imagine that the face pressed against the pillows was Jisung, not his dongsaeng from elementary, he could imagine that he was kissing Jisung, not the bratty Kim Seungmin from his childhood.
It’s been around four months since their arrangement began, and it’s been around two since Seungmin stopped wishing Hyunjin was the one making his pain go away. He began to see Minho as more than his stubborn hyung, he began to think that maybe Minho could see him as just Seungmin, not a cheap replacement for Jisung, oh, how naive of him.
“Ah, Seungmo,” Minho said, his words were slurred, “Hyung needs you,” no, no you don’t, he wants to say, you need Jisung, not me. Seungmin merely sighs, “Where are you hyung?” he settles with.
“Just the usual, you know?” The usual. The place where this mayhem began, the place where Seungmin grabbed Minho and kissed him, begged him to distract him from the pain. He didn’t reply, he only changed into his outside clothes and shoved on a coat, listening to Minho’s rambling from the other side.
He’s so stupid. He can’t even force himself to get mad at Minho, even Seungmin thought he and Jisung were inevitable. They just seemed so in love, Jisung was one of the few people that he was openly affectionate to, on the other hand, Jisung and Hyunjin hated each other when they first met, nobody could’ve guessed they would fall in love and leave two hearts shattered behind. Seungmin used to tell Hyunjin that he wished they would get along better, but now he feels a little (very) stupid.
In the beginning, Seungmin found himself drunk quite often. He yearned to forget everything. He thought Hyunjin’s affection was for him only, he felt tears slip when he saw the sheer amount of art the other had made for Jisung, a true romantic, unlike Seungmin himself. He could never bring himself to hate either of them, he just let it all consume him.
Changbin caught on nearly immediately. They all knew each other for years, he was able to tell that Seungmin had feelings for Hyunjin early on, he was also able to see the heartbreak evident on his face.
He seemed perplexed when Seungmin rang him the next morning, asking to be picked up from Minho’s apartment, but he never asked - the car ride to Seungmin’s place was an uncomfortable silence, but Changbin knew better than to pry.
Seungmin finally spoke into his phone, “I’m fifteen minutes away, stay put. Get some water will you?” he said. He can handle Minho when he’s tipsy, but when he’s drunk he’s a nightmare, but tonight he was uncharacteristically quiet.
“‘M getting water Seungminnie, don’t you worry about hyung,” he replied. Seungmin feels ill. It’s always Kim Seungmin or Seungmin-ah with him, but as soon as he’s got alcohol in his system, he’s throwing out all these nicknames that only a select few tend to call him. At least he’s getting himself some water.
It’s a painfully long fifteen minutes. The music playing in the car was a shitty breakup playlist Seungmin made months ago when he was helping Jeongin get over some guy, he used to tease him, ‘you guys never even dated,’ but now, now he gets it.
Minho isn’t his, just like Hyunjin. Kim Seungmin wasn’t made to love or be loved, he was just supposed to be there, he was meant to be a placeholder until something of true value replaces him. They stay on the phone, the sound of music could be heard from both sides. Shitty pop songs blasted from Minho’s side, despite the somber atmosphere.
“Hyung, I’m outside. I’ll come and get you.” Minho merely hums, probably too drunk to form a coherent response. He hasn’t been dealing with anything all too well, every moment he gets he mopes over Jisung, he would cry and ask Seungmin if he just wasn’t enough, they called each other their soulmates, and that wasn’t enough for him to stay.
Seungmin was different from Minho in that way. Unlike Minho, he never brought Hyunjin anything good, he was only leeching off of his brightness, destined to dull later on. He would give Hyunjin the stars if that’s what he wanted, but he would never ask that of Seungmin, no, he only trusted Jisung with such things, Jisung, whom he despised in the beginning - okay, maybe Seungmin was a little bitter, so be it.
He stayed by the entrance of the club, slightly embarrassed by his scruffy appearance. He scans the crowd for Minho, and sees him trudging towards him. His heart skips a beat, pathetic. He looked beautiful - not in the way that Hyunjin did, where Hyunjin had soft lines, daintiness and floaty words, Minho was sharp and guarded, a piercing glare that would honestly scare Seungmin if he didn’t know his hyung any better.
“You came,” Minho said, as if they hadn’t been on the phone for the past twenty or so minutes. His hair was styled nicely, it’s been growing for a while and had soft black curls. His eye makeup was smudged, likely a result of him crying.
“You know I always will,” Seungmin said, he told the truth. He would never leave Minho, not when he was the only one he had left, he would fight for those fleeting scraps of romance and hold them until only claw marks were left behind. Minho clung to Seungmin’s arm, babbling utter shit that he couldn’t help but find endearing.
“At least try to walk in a straight line, hyung!”
“Yah! That’s no way to speak to your hyung.”
Seungmin scoffed, opening the car door. Wow, Minho looked, well, amazing. Seungmin mentally scolded himself for letting that thought cross his mind, Minho isn’t his, his heart belonged to Jisung. The older man clambered into the front seat, almost smacking his head against the headrest.
Seungmin shuffled a couple songs by 3RACHA, intentionally avoiding any mentions of Collision, he can’t handle both of them crying tonight. Minho stayed quiet, the energy the alcohol gave him must be wearing off, because now all Seungmin can see is the tiredness in his eyes.
“Channie hyung isn’t home,” Minho said, the two of them have been living together for quite some time, but Chan has been busy with Jisung and Changbin, they have a new record coming out soon and have spent a lot of time refining it. He only knew because Hyunjin kept whining about his boyfriend being busy all the time now, Seungmin felt a pang of sadness at that, but not because of Hyunjin.
No, not anymore. Seungmin was jealous and he knew it, deep down there was a monster clawing at his heart, yearning for more than the casual shit he and Minho had going on. He wanted to be his, in the way that Jisung was Hyunjin’s, in the way that he longed for.
“Mh, I figured.” Seungmin replied, keeping his eyes on the road. He isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to having Minho in the passenger seat, his hyung had quite literally forgotten he had his license for weeks until Yongbok brought it up.
There was something on Minho’s face that Seungmin can only describe as grief when he realised he was the only one unaware of it. The two of them had grown distant without even knowing it. Seungmin knew, he always did, he used to wonder if he did something wrong.
Before they were a massive chaotic (lovingly) group, it was just Seungmin and Minho. They both met in elementary and followed each other to college, despite their age gap. It never mattered, back when they were close. Seungmin was eventually shoved to the side, it was neither of their faults but fuck, it kept him up at night.
“I forgot my keys,” he whispered, as if he was too ashamed to say it out loud. Seungmin sighed, but he was frankly too exhausted to scold him for being stupid. At least he didn’t have to haul a drunk Minho up the stairs anymore.
“You can stay the night then,” he said. He doesn’t want him to stay the night. It ends the same every single time. Minho will pepper kisses along his neck and promise he’ll stop Seungmin from hurting, then the morning after he’ll wake up cold and alone. He’ll wash off the tell tale signs of sex and rinse his hands of Minho’s touch, then they’ll act like nothing happened at all.
That’s how they were, everyone would joke, gagwanz, messy couple. It’s all casual, no strings attached.
He hears sniffles from the passenger seat, Minho is crying, “Hyung’s sorry,” he says. Sorry? What is there to be sorry for? The heartbreak that Seungmin has kept hidden for months? He scoffed and deflected, that’s just how they operate.
“It’s fine hyung, nothing a bit of coffee won’t fix.” Ah, Seungmin used to make Minho coffee every morning when they used to live together in college, how could he forget?
“You know that’s not what I’m apologising for.” No. No he doesn’t. He will pretend, he will pretend his heart doesn’t split in half every time he wakes up to an empty bed, he will pretend he doesn’t want to cry everytime Minho refuses to leave any marks, Minho is not his. He chooses not to reply.
When they finally arrive at Seungmin’s place, Minho again clings to his arm, like a stray kitten. He isn’t the chipper Minho from the club, he’s probably just ready to go to sleep then. Minho drags his feet and trails behind him, kicking his platform boots off to reveal his actual height. Seungmin giggles, he’s no longer crying and now just looks like a scruffy and irritated cat.
“Come on, you need to wash your face and I’ll grab some spare clothes.” Seungmin loved seeing him in his clothes. They hung from his shorter frame and maybe just for a little bit he can pretend Minho could for once be his.
The other man grumbles under his breath, Seungmin knows he’ll be complaining in the morning if he doesn’t wash up so he doesn’t dignify his mumbles with a response. “Makeup remover is on the shelf!” he called.
Seungmin himself doesn’t wear makeup, it was only there because of Hyunjin, he would experiment more with his looks and roped Seungmin into being his practice model on numerous occasions.
Weirdly enough, his heart doesn’t flutter like it used to at the thought of it, he was never a romantic but previously he’d feel the heat rush to his face as Hyunjin swiped gloss onto his lips, now? Now he felt nothing towards him, at least not in that way.
He listens to Minho fumble around in his bathroom for a while until he finally comes out, and Seungmin just sighs. Minho looks amazing all dressed up, but this is when he looked the best, barefaced and fluffy haired. He’s wearing Seungmin’s clothes, and he wants to melt, even if it’s just a 3RACHA graphic tee shirt and some old sweatpants.
He pats the left side of his bed, gesturing for the other man to lay down. To his surprise, he doesn’t protest and gets all comfortable in his sheets, if it had been anyone else, Seungmin would’ve forced them to shower, but apparently he’s grown soft for Lee Minho of all people. Minho’s dark hair fanned out on the pillow, but he didn’t look tired.
This is out of his comfort zone, sure they’ve fucked before in his bed but they’ve never done… less? Maybe if they never pushed each other away in this life a couple years ago, they could’ve spent more time like this. Relaxed, no pressure, just Seungmin and Minho. Seungmin’s had his own face pressed into the pillows, or his back smushed against the sheets. This? This is nothing like before. It’s strange and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
The older man wrapped an arm around Seungmin, nuzzling his face into his neck. Seungmin’s heart swells, this is too much, he can handle fucking and pretending it never happened, but he can’t do this. It’s too sweet, too domestic, Kim Seungmin isn’t made to be loved like this. Kim Seungmin was the only one in the group that Minho showed no affection to, Kim Seungmin was the only one who he doesn’t pay for, Kim Seungmin isn’t his.
Without releasing, tears silently dripped down his face. He pretends he doesn’t know why, he rubs his eyes and prays the other didn’t see anything. Stupid move really, because of course Minho noticed. Minho who noticed when Seungmin was sick and drove him home, Minho who noticed his heartbreak after Hyunjin’s words echoed in his mind, ‘what do you even know?’
“Why’s my baby crying?” Minho asked, thumbing at Seugmin’s cheek, it’s out of character for the two of them, they don't do this. They don’t do domestic, that’s not their style. They’re rough and messy and impulsive, the unspoken agreement didn’t have anything to do with this, with Minho consoling him in his bed and in his clothes. He calls him ‘his baby’ but how much truth is behind that? Will Seungmin ever be his?
“Jagi, let hyung make your pain go away.” Jagi. Baby. That’s what he called Jisung. Seungmin feels his heart split in two for the hundredth time that night. Minho’s breath is so hot on his face and his cat-like eyes are staring right into his soul.
Seungmin doesn’t say no, “Hyung, you’ll be tired in the morning.” he said weakly, attempting to roll over in the twin sized bed that clearly wasn’t enough for the tension the two of them radiated. Minho kept clinging, practically on top of Seungmin. “Minho hyung, you’re drunk.”
“‘M only tipsy,” he says, like a child, “tell me to stop and I will,” he replied, Seungmin knows he will, he has stopped whenever he asked, but he doesn’t want him to stop. He relished in the tiny kitten licks Minho gave him on his throat, never leaving marks, but at least he can have this. He kisses Seungmin everywhere, clawing at the plain white shirt he wore.
“Hyung,” Seungmin whined, “please,” Minho smiled, he could feel his cheshire like grin against his chest. For the first time, Minho sucks hard on his milky skin, and he mewls. “Mh? You’ll have to be more specific.”
Seungmin could easily throw him off, but he doesn’t. He just lets the older man keep leaving mark after mark on his skin, listening to the pathetic noises he lets out whenever he grazes his teeth a little harder than anticipated. “Want this off,” Minho said, tugging at Seungmin’s shirt, he peels it off, secretly yearning to see the red splotchy mess Minho made of his chest.
“My pretty baby,” he cooed. His, his, his, his words echoed in Seungmin’s head and he felt so weak for this man. He’s not Minho’s, but he can pretend, just for tonight. They don’t usually speak like this, sometimes they never exchanged words, this was different, this was real. Pretty wasn’t a word he associated with himself, that would be for maybe Yongbok or Hyunjin. Minho must’ve thought differently, because he was staring at Seungmin with stars in his eyes.
Seungmin wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck and pulled him closer, he felt like a stupid teenager again, giddy and wanting more. Minho, of course, gives him more, even if he didn’t deserve it.
Minho leans in for a kiss, it’s weird, different, but never bad. The kiss is everything to Seungmin, it heals even the ugliest parts of him, it’s unlike the rest they previously shared, heated and full of the primal need to fuck. Minho’s lips are so soft against Seungmin’s chapped ones, it’s tender and loving and Seungmin can’t fucking breathe.
“I love you.” Minho whispered, still laying on top of Seungmin. Nobody moves, but for some reason it feels like the world is ending for the second time in four months. Minho’s drunk. He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean what he’s saying and Seungmin can feel tears welling in his eyes. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, so he chalks it up to him being tired, but Minho repeats the god forsaken three words again, and nibbles on his ear.
His voice cracks, “Hyung, I don’t think I’m who you think I am.” Seungmin lets a tear fall, he’s not Han Jisung, maybe he could give Minho this, but he doesn’t want any of their imaginary lines crossed. He knows it will hurt more in the morning when he wakes up alone, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to brush it off this time.
“Don’t be stupid, Kim Seungmin.” oh.
“I’m not drunk, I know who you are.” oh.
Despite it all, Minho just keeps kissing Seungmin everywhere. It’s so disgustingly sweet that he doesn’t know what to do. He kisses his neck, his cheeks, even gently grabs his wrist to kiss his knuckles, but mostly his lips. He kisses Seungmin like he’s worth being held, worth all the attention Minho is giving him.
Seungmin is still grappling with the fact that Minho sees him. He’s choosing to do this to him, not Jisung, not Hyunjin, but Kim Seungmin. Of course Minho wasn’t drunk enough to not know who he was, he called Seungmin first, and obviously sobered up by then. Minho stops his kiss attacks and tugs at the waistband of Seungmin’s sweatpants.
“Can I?” he asks, because he’s Minho and he’s too considerate for someone like Seungmin, who is too flustered and merely nods in reply. Minho tsks, as if he was talking to a misbehaving puppy, “I need words, Seungminnie.” and fuck, if that didn’t make Seungmin’s head spin.
He whined, “Yes hyung, please.”
“Ah, so polite.” Minho teased, undressing the younger. It’s only then that Seungmin realises that he’s naked, but Minho is fully clothed. Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem, but tonight is different to any other night, so he lets himself be selfish, tugging at the other man’s shirt. Minho huffs a laugh out, and pulls his own shirt off.
Fuck, he’s perfect. Seungmin often forgets that Minho goes to the gym, sure he’s not a gym rat like Changbin or Chan, mostly seeing it as a necessity, but god is that man toned. He makes pathetic grabby hands at Minho’s chest, feeling him up.
“Mh, lube is in the drawer.” Seungmin managed, he just wanted Minho to touch him again, make him feel all light and floaty. As if he said it out loud, Minho squirts the strawberry (courtesy of Felix and Jeongin) lube onto his hand and presses a finger inside. Seungmin immediately arches his back, searching for more.
“My baby is so sensitive.” he chuckled, moving his finger and making Seungmin squirm. He never stopped crying, but now his tears are from pleasure, or maybe relief. He replays Minho’s words, ‘my baby’, my, my, my.
He adds another finger, scissoring Seungmin’s insides. If Seungmin weren’t in such a frenzied state, he’d have it in him to at least feel a little embarrassed at how reactive he was, but Minho was so gentle and sweet and it’s too much for him.
It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but Seungmin is too distracted to feel it because Minho went back to kissing him passionately, like nobody else mattered. He nips at Seungmin’s bottom lip, and he opens his mouth to let him in. Their tongues press together and it’s a mess of tears and spit, Seungmin wouldn't have it any other way, truly.
For the first time that night, he ignores the voice in his head that tells him it won’t last forever, he ignores the way that reality will hit him in the face in the morning when he wakes up alone and goes back to being Jisung’s replacement. He ignores the thoughts that would typically consume him, and deepens the kiss with Minho.
Minho’s never unmoving fingers reached a spot that made Seungmin keen, he whimpered and begged Minho to do more, a string of spit connected the two of them together and he pleaded, “Hyung, hyung, please,” he cried, “make me feel good,” he said quietly, as if it were shameful to do otherwise
The other man smiled, “Thought you would never ask.” He removed his fingers from Seungmin, and does something so fucking absurd that Seungmin squeaked. Minho took his slick covered fingers and licked, lapping his tongue around them till they were clean, Seungmin’s face flushed and he could feel his dick hardening even more, despite not being touched throughout the night.
Instead of giving Seungmin what he wanted, he buried his face in his thighs and sucked, marking his territory yet again. Seungmin let out a wanton moan, grabbing onto Minho’s hair and pulling, bringing out a moan from Minho, the lighting was dim but he could see his ears flush red.
He knows he’s going to feel it in the morning, he’s going to feel the red hickies littered on his inner thighs when he tries to walk, or the blatant bite marks around his neck whenever he stretched, fuck, Seungmin’s going to need a turtleneck tomorrow.
Minho stops his attacks on Seungmin’s thighs, meeting him face to face again. Neither of them say anything, only short pants from the two men could be heard until Minho speaks up again, “I love you, Kim Seungmin.” Oh, oh he may actually mean it this time.
Seungmin isn’t sure if he’s drunk off pleasure or something else, because he says the same three words back, they slowly drip off his tongue as if they’re sacred, and, maybe they are. It’s his first time saying it out loud, it feels right.
“I love you.”
It feels different, as compared to Hyunjin. When he loved Hyunjin he felt fireworks in his stomach and wanted to kick his feet and giggle like those main protagonists in the shitty rom-com movies they used to watch together. When he said those words to Minho, they settled in his stomach and he felt safe, he felt loved.
Minho finally pushes in, hitting exactly where he needs to, and Seungmin melts, the name he moans is never Hyunjin’s, his brain is full of Minho, Minho, Minho. He’s afraid he’ll never get enough, he claws at Minho’s back, admiring his beautifully stupid face and leaves his own marks, just for tonight, Minho is his.
-
Seungmin wakes up, he doesn’t jolt awake like he usually does. He already feels like crawling out of his own bones, the shame from last night was quickly making its way up his throat and he vaguely feels like throwing up. He was so pathetic.
Of course Minho didn’t mean it, he was just Jisung 2.0, a placeholder to fuck. Of course he was drunk, he only said that shit to get off. Seungmin isn’t even angry, he just cries, like a child. They already agreed their arrangement had no strings attached, it’s Seungmin’s fault for getting the wrong idea like an idiot.
He lets himself sulk, tears running down his face yet again. He remembers how Minho had licked them last night, whispering sweet nothings whilst thrusting into him, shit, he’s doomed. Kim Seungmin is an idiot, and he wants to march right up to the dance studio and scream at Minho for leading him on, the bitterness clawing at his stomach.
Seungmin sluggishly gets up, he needs to brush his teeth and at least make himself presentable. He looks in his bathroom mirror and almost shrieks, he looks like he’s been mauled. Maybe that’s why his hyung never left any marks, because he’d known Seungmin would call fucking animal control on him.
Angry red marks littered his neck, a bite mark sat on his collarbone and he groaned, he’s going to have to beg Felix for concealer because whatever amount he has is certainly not enough. His hair is fucked, not because of your average bed head, but because of Minho tugging on it so hard that Seungmin let out the loudest moans of the night.
Shit, Minho’s back is probably full of scratches from Seungmin’s blunt nails. They’ve fucked multiple times but never like that. Seungmin splashed his face with cold water, cautiously pulling down his pants to check his thighs. As he predicted, they’re covered too, god, he didn’t know his hyung was a vampire.
After a mini existential crisis in his bathroom, he makes his way to his kitchen, only to have his heart jump out of his chest. He smelt warm food and was greeted by Minho, clad in his own clothes and still here - Seungmin fights every bone in his body that’s telling him to break down in tears again.
“You’re here.” he decided on, nothing harsh but nothing too telling. Minho smiled fondly, his lips are so plump and shit, is that a scab from Seungmin biting them last night? The embarrassment creeps up on him when he sees Minho eyeing his work from last night, grinning at the red welts on Seungmin’s neck.
“Kim Seungmin,” he said, softly. He’s not used to this, he’s finally got hold of the side of Minho he always wanted to see, he has it, but what should he do with it?
“Minho hyung.”
“I think it’s time we finally talk,” Minho says. Seungmin wants to run away, but he knows that would be counterproductive. Maybe now is the time to shout and call Minho an asshole for leading him on, but why would he be leading him on if he was sitting in his kitchen with a plate full of eggs and fried rice?
“Okay, hyung.” he smiled, and talk, they did. If the conversation ended with Seungmin in tears and Minho kissing them away, then nobody would talk about it. If the next day they walk to the group hangout, hands entwined and showing off Minho’s work, then well, everyone talks.
When he explains most of it to Hyunjin, he’s met with a glowing grin, he feels it then. He’s right where he needs to be, living in this moment, with these people.
Kim Seungmin is an
idiot,
he’s Minho’s idiot, and he is so so so
loved.