Chapter Text
Mingi loved his job. Truly, deeply, whole-heartedly. He was a firefighter, and a very proud one—so proud that he flexed at every reflective surface he passed. Window? Flex. Car door? Flex. A spoon? Flex.
But even with all his muscles and sunshine-for-brains energy, nothing could have prepared him for the day his squad was scheduled to do a fire-safety demonstration at Little Star Preschool.
The late-morning sun shone over Little Star Preschool, kids buzzing with excitement as they gathered on the grassy field. A shiny red fire truck rumbled in, sirens chirping playfully. Kids screamed in delight.
Mingi hopped out first.
He meant to jump down casually… but he saw the preschool staff lined up and immediately turned it into an unnecessarily athletic leap; landing with a flex of his biceps that definitely wasn’t in any safety manual.
Mingi scanned the group.
And there he was.
Yunho, the preschool teacher.
Soft sweater, tall, warm smile, gentle laugh as he helped a tiny child tie their shoe. He practically glowed.
Mingi froze.
His brain went: Wow.
Then: He’s pretty.
Then: I NEED TO IMPRESS HIM IMMEDIATELY.
Mingi forgot how to inhale.
Yunho noticed his staring.
He stood up and made eye contact, then smirked.
Just a little.
Just enough.
The smirk did permanent emotional damage to Mingi’s frontal lobe.
He straightened up quickly, puffed out his chest, rolling his shoulders like he’d been born knowing how to model for a firefighter calendar. He picked up the fire hose like it weighed nothing, hoping Yunho was watching.
Yunho absolutely noticed the way the firefighter’s biceps bulged under his uniform sleeves. The way he kept smiling shyly whenever their eyes met. But Yunho was nothing if not polite… and maybe a tiny bit mischievous.
“Thank you for coming today, Firefighter Song,” he said calmly, reading the name tag off his chest.
Mingi melted. He knows my name.
Hongjoong, their captain, clapped to gather the kids’ attention. “Alright, little stars! We’re going to show you how we put out a practice fire. Pay attention—no running near the equipment.”
Mingi tried to look professional. But every few seconds, his head snapped toward Yunho like a sunflower chasing the light.
Yunho pretended not to notice. He absolutely noticed. And he enjoyed it way too much.
He pushed his glasses up with one finger, glanced at Mingi briefly, and then looked away; completely unfazed.
Mingi felt that micro-interaction vibrated through his soul.
“Now,” Hongjoong said, “we’ll show how to handle the hose. I’ll need one adult volunteer.”
Mingi prayed to every deity he knew. Before Mingi could leap out of his boots, Hongjoong pointed casually.
“You. The teacher in green.”
Yunho raised a polite hand. “Me? Sure.”
Mingi’s survival instincts took over. One second he stood by the truck. The next he was materializing at Yunho’s side.
“I…uh- I can help you! You know. With the heavy equipment. Safety first!”
Yunho tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “Oh? Is it heavy? You make it look pretty easy.” He says in an innocent tone, but Mingi swears he caught the sultriness of it.
Mingi puffed up like a blown-up life jacket. “Oh yeah it’s super heavy. Really heavy. I’m just… strong.”
Yunho let his gaze drop to Mingi’s arms. Mingi forgot his name. Then Yunho looked away casually as if the moment meant nothing.
Hongjoong dragged over the large practice fire target. Mingi lifted the thick red fire hose and placed it in Yunho’s hands.
“Here,” Mingi said gently. “Use both hands. Feet apart. Like this.”
He nudged Yunho’s shoe with his boot, guiding the stance. Then stepped behind him, arms bracketing Yunho’s without touching… yet.
“Mind if I-?” he asked, breathing warm near Yunho’s ear.
Yunho didn’t move. But he did smile, small and wicked.
“If you think I need your help,” Yunho murmured, “go ahead.”
The hose roared to life, pressure vibrating through their arms.
—
Yunho’s body leaned back slightly from the force; and right into Mingi. Mingi went still. His heartbeat felt loud enough to trigger the fire alarm again.
“You’re doing great,” he whispered.
“Oh?” Yunho replied lightly. “Thought I’d be struggling.”
“You can…uh…you can lean on me. If you need.”
“I’m fine. But thank you.”
Then, after a pause, Yunho added softly: “You’re warm.”
Mingi stopped functioning for a full three seconds.
—
The kids cheered as the fake flames went down. Yunho stepped away, brushing imaginary dust off his cardigan as if the past sixty seconds didn’t just turn Mingi into a sentient puddle.
“Thanks for the help, Firefighter Song,” Yunho said, professionalism back in full effect.
Mingi’s ears turned red. “You…uh…you can call me Mingi.”
“Oh.” Yunho’s lips quirked. “Mingi, then.”
He waved at the kids and began herding them back toward the shade like nothing unusual had happened.
But Mingi stayed rooted to the spot, staring after him with the expression of someone who had just been emotionally uppercut.
Hongjoong slapped him on the back.
“You’re doomed, aren’t you?”
Mingi didn’t even pretend.
“Hyung… I think I’m in love.”
Hongjoong sighed. “Try not to break anything while you’re pretending to be subtle.”
Mingi watched Yunho laugh with the kids, the breeze lifting his hair.
Subtle.
Yeah.
Sure.
Mingi had no idea how to be subtle.
—
When the demo ended, Hongjoong announced, “Alright, kids! Who wants to see the fire truck up close?”
Twenty hands shot up instantly. The preschool field exploded into excited squeals. Mingi brightened. This was his chance. To be helpful. Professional. Totally normal.
And maybe… talk to Yunho again without melting into a puddle.
He started lifting the kids one at a time onto the fire truck’s step, giving them little guided tours. All of them looked around, with excited shining eyes. Yunho stood nearby, keeping the line organized, laughing whenever a kid pretended to “drive” the truck.
"One at a time kids!" Yunho reminded when some of them started to get too excited.
Every time Yunho laughed, Mingi missed a detail in his explanation and forgot what he was supposed to be saying.
Then, finally, there was a lull, the kids sitting inside happily pressing the (deactivated) buttons. Mingi wiped his palms on his uniform pants, totally not nervous.
He turned to Yunho.
“S-so, um…” He cleared his throat. He tried again.
“Would… would you want to ride me?” He pointed to himself. He wanted to say ‘ride with me’, Emphasis on WITH. But Yunho was so pretty he couldn’t say a proper sentence.
His eyes widened. His brain caught up.
OH NO.
“THE TRUCK. I MEANT THE TRUCK.” He waved wildly at it. “Ride the truck! Not- I mean… not anything else, obviously-”
Yunho arched one eyebrow so slowly it felt illegal. “Oh?” he said, voice soft and dangerously amused. “You’re offering me a ride?”
Mingi died inside.
This was it.
Time of death: Yunho’s eyebrow raise.
“N-no! I mean, yes! I mean! YES to the truck part…just…NOT-”
Yunho stepped closer, just enough to invade Mingi’s personal space while still looking perfectly innocent.
“It’s okay, Mingi. I think I understand.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
“So… where would you take me? On this ‘ride’ of yours?”
Mingi’s brain blue screened. The children could have set the grass on fire and he wouldn’t have noticed.
“Uh, uhmm.. I-...around the parking lot?” he croaked.
Yunho laughed, warm and musical, and Mingi’s heart did a somersault.
“Relax,” Yunho said. “I’m just teasing.”
But then Yunho added, voice dropping just a little more than necessary:
“…Unless you really do want to take me somewhere.”
Mingi opened his mouth. Nothing came out except a squeaky inhale.
Yunho smiled like he’d won a prize.
—
A little girl tugged Mingi’s sleeve. “Can Teacher Yunho wear your big helmet too?”
Yunho’s eyes went wide. Mingi’s eyes went wide for an entirely different reason.
“Oh! uh…sure!” Mingi stammered. He pulled off the firefighter helmet, trying not to shake.
“This is… uh… actually kind of special. Only firefighters wear it. But for today I can… yeah…”
He held it out with both hands like he was offering Yunho the crown to a kingdom.
Yunho took it gently. “Wow,” he said, placing it on his head. “It’s heavier than it looks.”
Mingi forgot how to breathe. The oversized helmet sat crooked on Yunho’s hair, making him look adorable and devastating at the same time.
In fact, he was so busy staring that he didn’t realize he whispered aloud:
“You look really cute.”
Yunho blinked slowly. His ears started to turn pinkish red. He clears his throat and then smirks.
“Oh?” He adjusted the helmet deliberately, tilting it in a way that made Mingi’s soul collapse.
“Do firefighters say that to all volunteers?”
“N-NO! No, absolutely not! Just you—wait. I mean-”
Yunho chuckled, stepping even closer, placing his hands casually behind his back.
“Well,” he said, leaning in just enough to make Mingi’s breath hitch, “maybe you can tell me again… after the kids go back inside.”
Mingi.exe has crashed.
But he nodded. Vigorously. Like a puppy who’s just been told he has a favorite person.
“Mingi! Stop flirting and help me with this equipment!” Hongjoong yelled from across the field.
Yunho whispered, just for him: “See you soon… Firefighter Song.”
Mingi nearly tripped over a hose.
—
When the last child was ushered back toward the classrooms, Yunho waved goodbye to his students and turned with that soft, teacher smile-
Which disappeared the moment he saw Mingi standing there waiting for him.
Not “casually nearby.” Not “coincidentally in the same area.”
No.
He was waiting, hands behind his back, rocking on his heels like an overgrown golden retriever trying not to wag his tail.
Yunho bit back a grin. This was going to be fun.
He walked up slowly, arms crossing as he stopped in front of Mingi.
“So,” Yunho said lightly, “you wanted to tell me something?”
Mingi froze.
Oh no.
OH NO.
He did say that.
Or… something like that.
His brain replayed the last twenty minutes like a CCTV tape with smoke damage.
“I…uh…yeah,” he stammered. “I mean, earlier I said you… um… looked cute.”
Yunho nodded. “You did.”
“And I didn’t mean to say it out loud!”
Yunho raised a brow. “Oh? So you didn’t mean it?”
Mingi panicked so hard he almost dropped the walkie-talkie still clipped to his vest.
“No! I DID mean it!” He slapped a hand over his mouth. “I mean… I stand by what I said! You’re…you’re cute. Very. Extremely. In… in a safe-for-work way!”
Yunho burst into laughter.
Mingi nearly died again.
Yunho stepped a little closer, arms uncrossing.
“Mingi,” he said softly, “you’re very sweet.”
Sweet.
SWEET.
Mingi internally combusted. He was a firefighter yet could not put out the flames Yunho was lighting in his brain.
“But,” Yunho added, tapping his chin, “you say things so honestly. Is that how you flirt?”
Mingi blinked rapidly.
“Is… is that bad?”
“No,” Yunho said, voice low. “I just like watching you get all flustered.”
Mingi made a noise that was probably human. He thinks. Yunho held up the helmet he was still wearing; crooked and enormous on his head.
“You’re not taking this back yet, are you?”
“N-no! You can keep it! I mean! temporarily! Borrow it! Safely! Please don’t run with it!”
Yunho smiled, wicked and sweet. “You want me to hold onto something that’s… important to you?”
Mingi nodded furiously. “Yes.”
Yunho stepped close enough that their chests nearly brushed.
“Then come get it from me later.”
Mingi’s soul left his body, circle-ran three laps, and returned.
“I’ll come get it!” he blurted. “Whenever…whenever you want. Wherever you want. I can. I can come to your classroom? Or…uh…I mean- wherever’s convenient. For safety.”
Yunho’s lips twitched.
“So if I told you to meet me alone…” He let the silence hang. Long. Warm.
“Mingi… would you come?”
Mingi’s brain:
SYSTEM OVERLOAD
CRITICAL FAILURE
PLEASE CONTACT TECH SUPPORT
“Yes!” he answered immediately. Then, realizing the implications, corrected:
“I mean….YES! As in- YES, because you’re a teacher and I respect teachers and schedules and-”
Yunho laughed quietly and placed a hand on Mingi’s bicep.
Just rested it there. Warm. Firm. Intentional.
“You’re adorable,” he said.
Mingi’s heart exploded.
—
“Mingi!” Hongjoong shouted from across the yard. “We’re leaving in five! Stop fraternizing and return the gear!”
Yunho stepped back slowly, but not before letting his fingers glide off Mingi’s arm.
“I guess that’s your cue,” he murmured.
Mingi swallowed. “C-can I see you again? Like, soon? For the helmet. I mean. Only for the helmet. Mostly.”
Yunho nodded thoughtfully.
“Hmm. I’ll think about it.”
Then-
“But I do expect you to come back.”
Because Yunho was still wearing the helmet. And he looked unfairly good in it.
“Come by after school ends,” Yunho added, turning toward the building. “I’ll be in my classroom. Waiting.”
Mingi forgot how to stand.
“Waiting?” he echoed.
Yunho looked back over his shoulder, eyes sparkling.
“For you, firefighter.”
And then he disappeared inside.
—
Mingi didn’t move.
Couldn’t move.
His brain was still buffering the last five seconds: “I’ll be in my classroom. Waiting for you.”
His soul had left his body for the third time that morning. He stood there on the grass like a very large, very muscular garden statue until his walkie-talkie crackled in his vest:
“MINGI. I swear on every fire extinguisher in Seoul—get back here.”
—Captain Hongjoong
Mingi jumped so hard he almost dropped his gloves.
“O-oh! Right! The helmet-” he muttered to himself, eyes darting toward the building where Yunho vanished. “I- I need the helmet.”
He took a few hesitant steps toward the doors, then froze again, cheeks blazing like an actual fire hazard. Finally, he shuffled inside and found Yunho in the hallway, still wearing Mingi’s helmet; too big, too heavy, tilting adorably to one side.
Yunho blinked at him, all innocent warmth.
“You’re back?”
Mingi nodded rapidly. “I- I really need the helmet. Before the captain releases his… uh… fire. On me.”
Yunho’s lips parted in a soft “oh,” but instead of giving it back;
He pouted. Lower lip out. Brows soft. Eyes going big and tragic like he’d just heard the saddest bedtime story ever.
“You have to take it back already?” he said, sounding genuinely disappointed. “I was getting attached to it.”
Mingi made a noise not found in the human language catalog.
“I mean if you want to wear it longer… I can try to stall the captain… or distract him- or hide behind the truck.”
Yunho shook his head slowly, dramatically, as if this were a scene from a tear-filled drama.
“No… it’s fine,” he sighed. “If you really have to take it from me…”
He lifted the helmet off with both hands, hugging it to his chest for a second like he didn’t want to let go. Mingi’s heart collapsed inward.
Then Yunho stepped close; dangerously close, and placed the helmet gently onto Mingi’s head.
“You should take good care of it,” Yunho whispered. “It’s important to you… right?”
Mingi nodded so fast the helmet wobbled.
“Yes,” he blurted.
“Very important.”
“So important.”
“I wash it. Sometimes.”
Yunho laughed softly.
Mingi melted.
But then-
A small voice echoed from down the hall:
“Teacher Yunho!!”
Yunho suddenly straightened, slipping seamlessly from flirtatious chaos demon into Professional Sunshine Mode. He placed a gentle hand on Mingi’s arm just long enough to make him forget physics.
“Thank you for the demonstration today, Firefighter Song,” he said warmly, voice pitch-perfect for little ears.
Mingi blinked.
Firefighter Song?
Firefighter Song??
Where did “waiting for you” Yunho go? Where did “lean closer” Yunho go?
Yunho bowed politely.
“Please drive safely back to the station.”
Mingi stared at him like he’d been emotionally robbed.
The kid ran up, grabbing Yunho’s hand. “Teacher Yunho, did you get to touch his big hose?”
Mingi choked. Yunho didn't even flinch.
Professional. Perfect. Angel mode activated.
“I did,” Yunho said, smiling down at the child. “Firefighter Song helped me hold his big hose. It was long and heavy."
Mingi basically imploded.
Then Yunho turned to him, smiled gently and completely unbothered, eyes sparkling with secret mischief only Mingi could see.
“Goodbye, Firefighter Song.”
As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t spent the whole morning setting Mingi’s nervous system on fire. As if he hadn’t told him to come back. As if he hadn’t just given him the most devastating pout in human history.
Mingi watched him walk away, children clinging to his cardigan like ducklings.
He clutched his helmet to his chest.
“...I’m in so much trouble,” he whispered.
Hongjoong yelled again from outside.
“MINGI! IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR HELMET BACK IN THE TRUCK—”
Mingi sprinted out the door.