Work Text:
The sun was high in the sky, hidden behind clouds that resembled cotton candy, offering slight relief from its relentless heat. It was only early May, but the weather had warmed significantly, prompting people to shed their outer layers of clothing. Mingi’s flannel jacket lay by his side, and the sleeves of his form-fitting black polo were rolled up to his elbows. Beaded bracelets and silver rings decorated his hands, and the black nail polish was already chipped, irking Mingi whenever he looked at his nails. He would have redone them had he had more free time, but his assignments were piling up, and Mingi was lucky to have even a few minutes between his classes to enjoy some of the exciting student life he had been promised when he applied for his fine arts degree.
Legs propped up on the bleachers in front of him, Mingi’s left knee bounced up and down as he stuffed his face with butter popcorn, his thick-framed, black glasses on the verge of slipping off the sharp bridge of his nose. His poor jeans were a faded grey, frail at the knees after Mingi had given them makeshift rips, stained with oil paint that would never be washed out anymore. Not that Mingi minded; most of his clothes were stained with paint, and he knew he reeked of acrylics most of the time, too.
Wooyoung shifted next to Mingi, his bony knee digging into Mingi’s thigh, and his best friend cheered as he nearly leapt up to his feet. Mingi snorted under his breath as he stuffed his face with another handful of popcorn, chewing loudly as Wooyoung’s hand aggressively reached for the bucket in Mingi’s lap.
“Did you see that?!” The loud man sitting next to Mingi exclaimed, his eyes tracking the people out on the field. Mingi hummed, but in truth, he hadn’t seen that.
Mingi was caught up in his thoughts, looking towards the field but not paying attention to whatever was happening. He didn’t understand much about baseball, but he still enjoyed watching it. Anything to get away from the dreadful end-of-year project that would very soon come to bite him in the ass, as Mingi had been procrastinating on it.
“Did San pitch well?” It was a wild guess, but at the same time, not that big of a wild guess. San had wicked arms that he could throw fastballs with, and it was quite well-known that the Aurora University team was unbeatable when the pitcher was out on the field.
“He always does,” Wooyoung answered smugly as he leaned back in his seat – seats that were really uncomfortable and were starting to make Mingi’s back ache – arms crossed in front of his chest, “But I was talking about Yunho this time.”
“Ah,” Mingi sighed, eyes falling on the batter instead. He was a tall guy, rather handsome, but much too grumpy for Mingi’s liking. It was a pity, though, because with a face like his, he could have had anyone, with how much boys and girls fawned over him.
Mingi smiled at himself, knowing damn well he would have been one of Yunho’s admirers had the batter not been ignoring him despite Wooyoung introducing them a long time ago. Mingi was convinced the guy didn’t even remember his name anymore, which was pitiful since Wooyoung and Yunho were housemates and Mingi would hang out at their place from time to time.
“You’re lost in your head again, aren’t you?” Wooyoung didn’t sound too angry about it, but Mingi still felt bad for not being present. He hummed with a pout on his lips and looked at his best friend.
“Sorry, I’ve been really stressed lately.” Mingi sighed, popping a popcorn in his mouth. He hadn’t chewed it enough before he continued, and Wooyoung grimaced as he could see the food in Mingi’s mouth. “It’s a miracle I even agreed to come today. I should be sitting at my desk, attempting to sketch that damn non-existent soulmate of mine.”
“Don’t say that.” Wooyoung was gentle as he elbowed Mingi, “They are out there, somewhere. Don’t lose hope. We are still so young!”
“It’s easy for you to talk,” Mingi sighed, pouting again, “You met San at like what—fifteen years old?”
“Fourteen, actually.” Wooyoung’s smile was sickening, and Mingi scoffed playfully, rolling his eyes.
“You make me sick, actually.” Wooyoung giggled at Mingi’s playful jab, leaning into his side as Mingi threw an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders.
It had been really easy for his best friend. The summer before they had turned fifteen, Wooyoung’s parents had sent him to summer camp as he had been a rambunctious teenager, having hoped that the camp would make him more organised and less chaotic. It sure hadn’t done that, but his best friend found his soulmate there, perhaps the biggest win of all.
In a world where finding your soulmate supposedly was really easy, Mingi begged to differ. He always rolled his eyes when he heard the elders say that, gazing at his own shadow. Maybe it had been easy to them, but to Mingi, it was a damn near impossible feat.
Mingi was a tall guy, having been so his whole life, and his growth spurt not only had deepened his voice but also made him tower over people at just sixteen. He had been a lanky teenager before he grew into his body – aka started doing Pilates before he hit up the gym once he got to uni – but for some reason, his whole life, Mingi’s shadow had looked like…him. Perhaps it was slightly taller and less bulky, but if one didn’t look closely enough, they would have thought it was Mingi’s own shadow.
At some point, right before his eighteenth birthday, Mingi had convinced himself that he didn’t have a soulmate, which is why his shadow looked so much like him. It was a depressing thought, one that stopped him from dating for a very long time, his eyes always falling subconsciously on other people’s shadows, hoping to see his own build somewhere out there.
So far, Mingi had been unsuccessful, and he had finally come to terms with the thought of living the rest of his life alone. It’s not that Mingi was a romantic, but he’d rather stay single than steal someone else’s soulmate. It just didn’t feel right.
“Hey, seriously now…” Wooyoung’s tone was considerate and warm. “Is everything alright with you?”
“Yeah, don’t mind me. I’ve got the blues for no apparent reason again…” Mingi sighed, stuffing his face with more popcorn as if it would help quieten his mind, “You know how I get when projects start piling up.”
“I do, and because of that, I have a surprise for you today.” Wooyoung grinned, nudging his head towards the field. Mingi watched as a curveball flew towards Yunho at an intimidating speed, but instead of screaming or jumping away like Mingi would have done, the batter swung hard, and the ball hit the metal, which made Mingi shiver as the sound echoed around them.
They all watched as the ball flew way over the markings, prompting the people watching the warm-ups to start cheering loudly.
Mingi smiled despite himself, watching San jog up to Yunho to pat him on the back. It would have been a Home Run if they had been playing already.
“What surprise?” Mingi asked with a frown, nearly forgetting Wooyoung had spoken to him just a moment ago.
“We’ll get to pitch and bat after the game!” Wooyoung’s voice rose in his excitement, and Mingi’s frown deepened as he looked at his best friend sharply.
“What do you mean?”
“They are letting people try out for fun, and San secured us spots! You could bat, and I could pitch!” Wooyoung grinned, shaking Mingi by the arm. He chuckled, but wasn’t as excited as Wooyoung, “What do you think?!”
“I think that I’m already a walking hazard, so this won’t end well for me, or…for someone else...” Wooyoung groaned, releasing his hold on Mingi’s arm, “But I’ll try it out just for you, okay?”
“Good. I would have accused you of being a horrible friend, otherwise.”
“But I’m awesome!”
“Mm, I’d beg to differ.”
“Hey!”
⚾︎
Mingi shouldn’t have been as nervous as he felt, his hands clammy as he gulped, looking down at the metal bat in his hands. It was heavy and had taken Mingi off guard the first time he took it into his hands, trying to gauge its weight and girth. He felt out of place, too, as he was surrounded by excited dudes waiting for their turn to bat or pitch. It was supposed to be really easy.
When they got down to the field, Wooyoung had stepped up behind San and pressed a kiss to his nape before the pitcher even noticed, making a wide smile spread on San’s lips. He then stepped aside and easily veered Wooyoung to his spot, explaining what he needed to do as the pitcher as proposed by Wooyoung earlier.
Mingi trudged to the batter begrudgingly, a guy he didn’t know, as Yunho had slipped away minutes ago, telling San that he needed a bathroom break. The guy who had come to teach in Yunho’s place was impatient and only explained things half-heartedly, and Mingi was sure the guy was done with his clumsy ass.
Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Mingi gulped as he looked towards Wooyoung, who looked confident, as if he had been playing this sport since birth. What Mingi had to do was hold the metal bat firmly, take a stance that felt right – no matter how Mingi stood, it didn’t feel right – and swing when the ball was flung at him. That was all easier said than done, especially as Mingi’s eyes widened when Wooyoung threw the first baseball at him unannounced.
Instead of even trying to hit the ball, Mingi dodged with a yelp, making the people waiting in line snicker as his cheeks flushed red. Wooyoung laughed, and it was enough to tell Mingi that he had done it on purpose.
“Baby, play nice. If the ball hits Mingi, he could end up with serious injuries.” San chastised Wooyoung, and Mingi huffed as he rolled his shoulders back, throwing Wooyoung a challenging glare.
It was all fun and games, but Mingi didn’t wish to make a fool out of himself when he was having an already kind of shitty day. Plus, the guys snickering didn’t help much either in hyping him up.
“I’m throwing it!” Wooyoung warned this time, and Mingi was grateful, as he had about a millisecond to prepare for the baseball, and failed to hit it miserably. The real batter next to Mingi tsked, and Mingi was embarrassed all over again.
“That was two strikes, one more and you’re out.” The guy said loudly enough that the students waiting in line could also hear him, and the huge guy next in line grinned as he rolled his wrists out, as if he were getting ready for kickboxing, not throwing a pitch or batting.
Mingi gulped and took a deep breath, making eye contact with Wooyoung, who looked at him with an encouraging smile on his face. He raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Mingi nodded, feeling ready. It was now or never, not that it mattered; he had already made a fool out of himself.
Wooyoung grinned as he pulled his hand back, then swung the ball towards Mingi with a wicked twist, making his eyes widen. Instead of losing his cool and ducking again, Mingi pulled his arm back and closed his eyes as he swung, his ears ringing when the hard ball connected with his metal bat.
Mingi gasped as his eyes flew open, “Oh my God! Oh my—oh my God!”
A shriek followed by a mortifying cracking sound made the metal bat fall from Mingi’s hands as his muscles went lax, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as he watched the ball he had just batted fall to the ground, bloody. Whatever Mingi had done, he had fucked up badly.
Blood dripped from Yunho’s nose, coating his upper lip red as the batter’s face was scrunched up in pain, his chest heaving as Mingi rushed to him without even thinking. He had no idea what he could have done to help, but he found himself reaching for the man’s face, his hands shaking.
“Oh my God, I’m so terribly sorry!” Mingi’s words were rushed as his fingertips touched Yunho’s cheeks, his eyes still wide as a pained groan left Yunho’s mouth, his jaw tightly clenched, “What did I do, oh my god…What do I do?!”
“Someone get the paramedics!” Mingi heard San call out behind him, but the poor art student had no idea what to do, how to help Yunho, or how to utter as many apologies as he could in under a minute. Mingi was beyond mortified, and he didn’t work well under pressure, but Mingi was panicking right now, and that was even worse.
“Are you okay? Can you hear me?” Mingi uttered whatever came to mind first as Wooyoung and San finally reached them. Had Mingi really managed to hit that ball so far? And how did he manage to get to Yunho so quickly?
“You just broke my nose, take a wild guess if I’m okay.” Yunho snapped, his eyes cracking open a notch, dark and glaring at Mingi. He gulped, guilty and ashamed as he let his hands fall from Yunho’s face, feeling helpless, “And you hit my nose, not my ears. I’m not deaf.”
“I know, I’m just—”
“Jake’s here, let’s go sit down.” San interrupted another word vomit of apology from Mingi and grabbed Yunho’s arm to lead him to the bleachers, where, Mingi supposed, Jake was waiting for them with a medical kit in his hands.
Mingi followed the two without thinking, and Wooyoung was hot on his tail, grabbing Mingi’s arm as he walked closer, “I don’t think you gave him a concussion.”
“Fuck, and if I did?” Mingi ran a hand through his long hair, shaking his head as his stomach twisted, “What if he…I don’t know, reports me to the dean? For bodily harm? They’ll kick me out—”
“Mingi, stop. It was an accident. Yunho knows it too.” Wooyoung stopped Mingi before he could spiral, “He won’t report you, it’s unlike him.”
“He hates me,” Mingi whispered as he watched Yunho sit down in an uncomfortable red seat, his face contorted in pain as the paramedic started checking him out.
The clouds moved, and the sun was suddenly unveiled, shining down blindingly on them. Mingi had to squint until he and Wooyoung got under the shade of the balcony, and for a split second, Mingi’s eyes settled on Yunho’s shadow.
Whoever Yunho’s soulmate was, they were tall with wide shoulders and with the sleeves of their shirt rolled up at the moment.
“Okay, it’s not broken.” The paramedic spoke as he felt around Yunho’s nose, making him wince with each touch, “Maybe a small fracture, we’ll need to go to the hospital to check it. No signs of a concussion yet, but I’ll keep it under watch…and you’ll have a black eye, too. The ball didn’t seem to have had much speed, though.”
Mingi was mortified as he listened to the paramedic list all the possible injuries he had caused to Yunho, and his throat went dry, “I’m so sorry, Yunho. I really am. I’ll accompany you to the hospital and cover the costs if necessary. I am really so—”
“Shut up.” Yunho snapped, his glare fierce. Mingi froze, then closed his mouth before he could finish his apology, “And get lost. I don’t need losers on this field. I told San it was a stupid idea letting just anyone bat and pitch, but when does he listen to me….”
“Don’t listen to him,” San interjected with an eye roll, turning towards Mingi as the paramedic gathered his things, phone in hand, calling for an ambulance, “He’s an asshole when he’s cranky. You’re good.”
“Yeah, shit happens.” Wooyoung tried to cheer him up, but Mingi felt like shit as he watched Yunho, who held the ice pack against his nose when the paramedic handed it over to him. This wasn’t a ‘shit just happens’ type of situation, and Mingi was on the verge of losing his mind.
“Ambulance will be here in ten, let’s get to the main gate. Yunho, can you stand?”
“Let me help—” Mingi rushed forward, needing to do something, to try and show Yunho he really hadn’t wanted to hurt him on purpose.
“I told you to get lost!” But Yunho was having none of it, and he pushed Mingi’s hand away when he reached for the batter. The art student froze, his eyes widening as Yunho huffed and turned away from him, standing abruptly on his own, and swaying uneasily for a second.
“Let’s go, Mingi.” Wooyoung muttered as he rubbed his best friend’s back, “Don’t mind him.”
But Mingi couldn’t do that when he felt so terrible about what he had done. If Yunho hadn’t known who he was previously, he certainly would not forget Mingi now. He wished the batter had remembered him for something else, something more pleasant.
𓂃🖌
Mingi, once again, couldn’t sleep as he tossed and turned in his bed. It’s been three days, but he couldn’t stop replaying that dreadful moment in his mind. He still heard the ball hit that metal bat, and for a moment, Mingi felt genuinely excited and proud that he had managed to hit the ball and not completely embarrass himself—but then that girl shrieked, and Mingi opened his eyes, and everything went to shit. He was mortified when he saw the blood on Yunho’s face, the ball which fell to the ground and rolled towards Mingi, almost comically.
And then Mingi couldn’t stop replaying Yunho’s reaction, his harsh words and the annoyance and hatred in his eyes as he looked at Mingi for just a few seconds at a time. It was terrible. Mingi was sure that half of the university had already heard about what he had done to their precious star athlete, and he was expecting them to show up with pitchforks at his door any minute now.
Mingi shuddered at the mental image and felt like screaming as he buried his face in his pillow. And if it weren’t past midnight, alright, he might as well have screamed.
Taking three deep breaths, Mingi rolled onto his back again and stared at the ceiling. His room was covered in a warm haze of lighting, low and dull as his little battery-powered duckie lamp sat on his nightstand, keeping the room from being plunged into complete darkness. The window was cranked open just a notch to air out the stuffy room as Mingi knew it probably still reeked of tempera and oil, though his nose was already used to the smell.
Sighing out loudly, which ended in a groan, Mingi reached for his phone. He knew his best friend wouldn’t be sleeping yet, and Mingi hoped he wasn’t busy with San and would answer him. He needed a distraction to stop the guilt from eating him alive. He wasn’t faring well, and it was chewing him up alive.
Mingi opened his chat with Wooyoung and snorted at the outrageous video his best friend had last sent him hours ago.
Mingi (01:23 am):
hey, woo…are you asleep?
Wooyoung (01:23 am):
you wish, what’s up?
Mingi felt a moment of triumph, glad that his friend would help put him out of his misery.
Mingi (01:24 am):
i’ve been thinking, and i’ve come to decide that the guilt will eat me up if i don’t make this right
Wooyoung (01:25 am):
make what right?
Mingi huffed, but he supposed Wooyoung had no reason to be thinking about Mingi nearly killing his housemate. However, he did have to see Yunho every day, which should have been a reminder of Mingi’s attempted murder – or so he heard a girl say earlier today when he passed by her and her friend.
Mingi (1:27 am):
yunho, bro
i need to make it up to yunho somehow, or i’ll never be able to sleep again
tell me what he likes
Wooyoung (1:27 am):
lmao, you’re still thinking about it?
bro, it’s fine. yunho’s had worse injuries, trust me
Mingi (1:29am):
woo, you’re not helping right now
Wooyoung (1:30am):
fine, but like, what do you wanna know?
he likes a bunch of shit, be more specific
Mingi (1:31 am):
idk, something i can do for him
Wooyoung (1:32 am):
suck him off? he likes a good head, but who doesn’t
Mingi (1:33 am):
broo, wtfff. be serious for one second, im begging
Wooyoung (1:35 am):
LMAO okay. tho im serious…
Mingi groaned as he locked his phone for a second, closing his eyes and rubbing his brows. What was he even expecting from Wooyoung at that hour, to be honest? He was a menace and a half most of the time; no wonder he got worse by the night. But as Mingi had nearly given up, his phone buzzed again.
Wooyoung (1:38 am):
come on, don’t start sulking now
yunho likes food, right?
Mingi (1:39 am):
yeah? im listening
Wooyoung (1:40 am):
good. so like…how about you buy him something he likes?
im sure it’ll work like magic
the way to a man’s heart is through his belly
although i highly doubt yunho bottoms
Mingi (1:42 am):
you’re getting off track again!!!! focus!
tell me what he likes
something i can easily get him
Wooyoung (1:43 am):
a croissant with almond crème filling should do the trick!
he loves those. buys them all the damn time
never even lets me close enough to touch them
greedy bastard!!!
Mingi grinned, finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. He had a plan now, as banal as it was, Mingi was set on making things right with Yunho.
Mingi (1:46 am):
good, okay.
thanks!
you’re a lifesaver, woo
luv u
Wooyoung (1:50 am):
hehe, damn right i am!
luv u too
now go to sleep, big guy
Mingi (1:51 am):
i told you to stop calling me that!!!!!!
𓂃🖌
Mingi had allowed another day to pass until he set his plan into motion, and it easily came to life once he had built up the courage to face Jeong Yunho again. Mingi was sweating as he clutched the strap of his tote bag, as if his life depended on it. A small paper bag was clutched just as firmly in his left hand as he headed purposefully towards the library.
Thanks to Wooyoung, Mingi had easily found Yunho’s whereabouts, and he tried to convince himself that there was nothing weird about asking his best friend if he knew where the batter would be around this time of the day.
Most people were down in the cafeteria as it was just a bit past noon, but apparently, Yunho spent all of his free time gaming wherever he could, and that usually was the public library of their university.
Mingi didn’t want to judge, but he wondered if being addicted to games was really worth it in the long run. But who was he to conclude such a thing, since he’d have an art degree if he managed to finish his last year with success.
Their university had been built a while ago, when tall towers and sharp roofs were the rage, with narrow stone hallways and stairs so many that you either lost a lung or your legs by the time you made it to the top. Thankfully, the library in the new wing was added to the rows of buildings much later, and the architects had in mind a bright and open space when designing it. The elevator was also perfectly functional, and Mingi beelined for it when he saw the doors slide open, an influx of students all trying to push inside.
Mingi managed to squeeze himself inside at the last minute and smiled awkwardly as he apologised for stepping on the feet of the cute girl standing behind him. She was so short that Mingi had not seen her, and he suddenly felt all too aware of his large limbs and towering height. How easy it would have been to find his soulmate if it had been someone like the petite girl behind him, Mingi thought. Finding someone with a completely different body type from your shadow was a lot easier than finding the one Mingi had, someone tall and kinda muscular.
Mingi sighed as the doors pinged open, and he got off the elevator quickly and started for the library, which was at the end of the short corridor. The glass doors were heavy when Mingi pushed them open, and he was hit with sudden warm air that nearly made him pause.
The librarian was burning some incense too, and it irked Mingi’s nose as his eyes squinted, on the verge of sneezing, when someone dropped a book and completely threw Mingi off. He flinched and grimaced as the moment passed, and he was left with an itchy nose instead. He rubbed it with disdain before pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.
Having been to the newer library a few times already, Mingi easily manoeuvred his way around the place as he took the winding and narrow stairs to the top floor, where they had a computer room for those who didn’t have computers or laptops at home.
The wooden stairs creaked under Mingi’s heavy red-soled boots, and he felt claustrophobic for no reason as he gripped the railing hard, his rings getting caught in the ridges. Someone moved at the top, but thankfully didn’t start coming down as they heard Mingi approach. The two of them wouldn’t have fit on the narrow staircase, and Mingi was glad he didn’t have to awkwardly rub up against another person as they shot each other apologetic and fake smiles.
He nodded at the guy in thanks for his patience when Mingi reached the top, and he took a second to shake off the sudden dizziness. The computer room was to the left, the automatic doors having just closed as someone had just entered.
Mingi’s fingers tightened into the paper bag as he gulped, eyes already finding Yunho through the glass wall. The batter was sitting across from Mingi, with his back to the entrance, no doubt to minimise the distraction others would cause him by entering or leaving. Headphones obscured his hearing, no doubt noise-cancelling, as Mingi had the same model lying in his tote bag.
Knowing that he was starting to look like a creep by loitering by the doors, Mingi took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back, taking a determined step forward despite not feeling too confident about how this whole interaction would go down. He hoped Yunho didn’t hate him that much, but then again, why wouldn’t he?
The clicking of keyboards was loud in the otherwise silent room as Mingi entered, and he realised a window was cracked open, bringing a freshness to the room that the rest of the library desperately needed too.
Knowing it wasn’t very nice, but still doing it, Mingi peeked at the screens of those who had already claimed computers and was surprised by just how many students were actually playing games. Had Mingi accidentally stepped inside an internet café instead of the library’s computer room?
It’s not that Mingi didn’t like gaming; he just found it a waste of time and completely useless. Not that he would tell any of those inside the room that, he didn’t want to be chased out by scary gamer boys.
Coming to a stop behind Yunho, Mingi positioned himself just a little sideways to him so he wouldn’t spook the batter in case he didn’t notice Mingi. And that seemed to be the case as he was immersed in whatever game he was playing.
Mingi watched the batter’s hands, his long fingers as they clicked away on the keyboard and mouse, his eyes moving on the screen so fast that Mingi wondered if he was damaging his eye muscles by doing that.
Mingi cleared his throat, hoping that Yunho would notice him at last. Still, the loud shooting noises and the voices coming through the noise-cancelling headphones should’ve told Mingi that the batter was in no way going to hear him, unless he physically made his presence known, which made Mingi incredibly nervous. He bit his bottom lip and tried not to pout as he realised he’d have to touch Yunho, and then reached for his shoulder, hesitant.
At first, Yunho didn’t even react to Mingi’s fingers tapping his shoulder, but the art student had been so shy with it that maybe Yunho hadn’t even felt the taps. Then, somehow, realising that it was whatever, Mingi grabbed Yunho’s shoulder firmly and squeezed once.
The batter’s shoulders shot up as his muscles tensed, and he whipped his head around, already glaring. He faltered for a second when he realised he was looking up at Mingi, and then his confusion transformed into frustration.
“What?” He snapped as he pulled the headphone off one ear, looking at Mingi expectantly. For a second, Mingi thought what a bitch, then shook his head and reminded himself that he had nearly broken Yunho’s – handsome – face. Speaking of which, he had a butterfly bandage on the bridge of his nose, the skin pink underneath it, and the batter’s under eyes were swollen, but thankfully, his black eye had started healing well.
Mingi gulped, then cleared his throat, “Uh, hi. I…I’m Mingi…the guy who nearly broke your nose.”
“Yeah, I know.” Yunho deadpanned, giving Mingi a one-over. The art student flushed, and he looked down as his hands gripped the paper bag tighter.
Of course, Yunho knew who he was. He had nearly broken his nose, for God’s sake!
“What do you—”
“I’ve come to apologise.”
The two paused as they looked at each other, and then Yunho jerked, his eyes widening as he looked back sharply at his screen. Mingi watched in confusion as Yunho started clicking his mouse like a madman, his eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets.
“Shit!” The batter hissed under his breath, continuously hitting the space bar, borderline aggressive, as Mingi frowned, leaning slightly down as if he’d understand anything happening by doing so, “Fuck!”
Mingi flinched as a red, blaring "Game Over" sign flashed on the computer’s screen, the sound coming through the headphones even more distorted. Mingi gulped, realising that he had made Yunho lose the game, and the art student convinced himself that if Yunho hadn’t hated him before, he sure did now.
“Honestly, what the fuck—” Yunho’s words died in his mouth when he sharply turned his head, glaring, but realised Mingi was leaning over his shoulder and towards the computer’s screen, putting their faces close to each other’s.
Mingi gulped, his eyes widening when he realised this too, and quickly stood up straight, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Whatever Yunho seemed to have to say was now forgotten as he blinked at Mingi, expectant, lips in a tight line.
“Right, uhm,” Mingi started, “I just…As I said before, I wanted to apologise…again…for what happened on Friday. I was, uhm, I didn’t think I’d hit the ball, so I closed my eyes because I also got scared, and then I did hit the ball, and it was awesome—until it wasn’t.”
Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed the longer Mingi spoke, his speech getting faster and faster as he forgot to take breaths in between his words. Mingi could feel judgment and annoyance rolling off Yunho’s body, and it was making him panic again as he tried to scramble through his unimportant thoughts and get to the point.
“So like, I did not mean to give you a black eye and a minor fracture, I swear! And Woo told me you lost the game on Sunday because you couldn’t play, and I just…I’m so terribly sorry, Yunho.” Mingi chewed on his bottom lip, his hands shaking a little. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt this stressed, and the lack of reaction from Yunho was making it even worse, “I know I can’t make it up to you, that losing a game is worse than probably your injury—not that I’m undermining the injury! It must hurt so much! I’m an idiot, I know that, but…I…I, uhm, I brought you your favou—”
Mingi’s voice got quieter and quieter as Yunho rolled his eyes at the art student, then faced the computer screen again, putting the headphones back on as he pressed play again.
“…favourite croissant. It’s with almond crème filling…”
Mingi gulped, trying to ignore the pang of hurt in his chest, the way his mouth twisted as he stared at the back of Yunho’s head. The batter looked tense as he started a new game, his eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw clenched, and Mingi might have been an idiot, but he recognised when he was becoming a burden, being unwanted.
With a sigh, Mingi placed the paper bag with Yunho’s favourite croissant on the desk, next to Yunho’s Spiderman-themed water bottle, and nodded his head in greeting despite Yunho not even bothering to spare him a glance.
“I’ll just go then…sorry for making you lose both games…” Mingi mumbled as he took off with one last lingering glance, his head hanging low between his shoulders as he tried not to feel as crestfallen as he did. But how could he not when his attempt at peace-making has been so blatantly brushed off?
Ugh, this is why Mingi didn’t meddle with the ‘popular’ crowd. Those damn athletes have always had such huge egos!
𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋
Sometimes, Mingi felt like he was going crazy. He talked to the moon and the stars on the nights he couldn’t sleep, and he had nicknames for the colours on his palette, as well as claimed certain spots where the inspiration hit harder and faster. As a broke student still financially supported by his parents, Mingi had no choice but to make do in a stuffy studio flat, which always reeked of paint and looked worryingly messy since Mingi was either too tired or lazy to tidy up the place.
But when deadlines approached, and exams loomed over Mingi’s head like a poltergeist that was haunting him for its own fun, Mingi knew he was turning into a lunatic as he found himself scolding his cup of coffee for not being on the stand he had, supposedly, placed it on minutes ago. And then, for a second, Mingi thought he heard his plants calling out to him, scolding him for forgetting to water them again. And no, Mingi wasn’t on drugs, but maybe he should have been.
So, whenever Mingi hit new lows due to stress and was on the brink of burning out, Wooyoung, God bless him, came to his rescue.
The two best friends rarely hung out at their places, as they were always looking for something fun to do, something that would take their minds off their stressful courses and projects that haunted them even in their sleep.
This time, however, Wooyoung was too lazy to go out, and Mingi was too tired to drag himself over to their favourite arcade, so that’s how they ended up at Wooyoung and Yunho’s flat. Mingi had been reluctant to go until his best friend told him that Yunho was out for practice and would come home late, so Mingi had one less thing to worry about.
Notebooks and textbooks strewn across the living room floor, Mingi and Wooyoung had been lounging on the carpet for hours now, giggling about silly things that came to mind, or working diligently in silence on their laptops. Mingi was making great progress on his research for his project, and for a second, he felt emotional about having such a good friend like Wooyoung, who recognised when Mingi needed him most.
But they weren’t Superman, and at some point, the letters started melting off the pages, and the words turned blurry, which was their sign to call it a day…or night, as it was nearly ten by the time Mingi and Wooyoung remembered to check the clock.
Not quite ready to put an end to the night – it’s been quite a while since Mingi and Wooyoung were able to enjoy each other’s company in a quiet environment – Wooyoung proposed he’d go and buy beers. At the same time, Mingi browsed the streaming services on the TV to select a movie to watch. Nothing scary, though, or Mingi wouldn’t have been able to sleep alone that night.
Notebook closed and laptop put on standby, Mingi’s feet were up in the air as he swung them back and forth, lying on his stomach as he drew lines in his sketchbook, which looked abstract until they started making sense. He was chuckling to himself as he glanced at the duck in the corner of the page, pouting and winking at whoever looked at it.
It was safe to say that Mingi might have been a bit obsessed with ducks, but sue him! They were sweet, little creatures, and probably the only animals with wings that he wasn’t afraid of.
Mingi was snapped out of his thoughts when, for a second, Wooyoung struggled to find the keyhole as he had returned, but then the doorknob was twisting, and light from the hallway spilt inside. He had been quite quick with his spontaneous shopping trip, Mingi thought, since the closest supermarket was nearly a fifteen-minute walk away from the flat.
But maybe Wooyoung was just really excited to open up his beer and kick his feet up on the coffee table, watching the movie Mingi had chosen.
“Hey, remember that time we were walking in the park and that little girl started laughing at your shadow because it was so buff compared to you?” Mingi snorted as he spoke up, listening to Wooyoung shuffle in the small foyer as he was most likely kicking his shoes off and shrugging his jacket off too, “Well, before you got distracted by starting a stupid fight with a literal five-year-old whose frontal lobe isn’t even formed yet—not that yours is, given your behaviour at times…Anyways, I digress! You know how you were trying to play the smartass again yesterday by saying that ducks don’t have dinosaur descendants?”
There was a hum as an answer, and Mingi grinned, rolling his eyes. Of course, Wooyoung wouldn’t admit he was wrong; he never did, but Mingi continued to lay out the facts, “Well, it takes about two neurons to figure out that ducks do come from dinosaurs. I mean…most animals do, and they found fossils in Antarctica, so you can’t even say I’m full of shit. They come from the Theropod family, by the way. Now, Prof Park asked us to make an oil painting about the first thing that comes to mind, and well, you know me…it was ducks!
“So, I’ve been thinking…would it be too silly if I painted at least one duck pink? And the other blue, and then named them San and Wooyoung. Oh, I bet San would actually love that! I’ll make the one I’ll name Wooyoung the dumbest-looking, of course. It’s hard to hide your true nature, you know?” Mingi snickered at himself, putting his pencil down as he craned his neck back at the unusual silence. Wooyoung would have been complaining already, whining and throwing jabs at him, but he was rather docile for once, “I made the mama duck big and fluffy and yellow! She’s really cute, too, especially with the ducklings following after her, between her feet.
“I’ve been thinking about what San said the other day, too, and maybe I should get a duck tattoo. I mean, it’s not cringey if I draw it, besides, even if it is…I don’t care. My body, my choice—hah, mom would’ve cheered that I said that. A true feminist raised an ally feminist. Hey, Wooyoung, since when did the cat get your ton—”
Mingi pushed himself up with a groan, running his hands through his hair to get the strands out of his eyes. But who should have been Wooyoung standing in the foyer was instead Yunho.
Mingi’s eyes widened as he gasped, his body tensing up as he gulped, mortified that the batter had heard everything he’d just said, had even stayed silent, probably to laugh at the shit Mingi was spewing. But Yunho had no reaction as he stared at Mingi, his damp, ashy-brown hair matted to his forehead, his backpack slung over one shoulder, and his feet bare, as he stuffed his dirty socks into his back pocket.
Mingi gulped, fumbling with his hands as he tried to explain himself, apologise for imposing, probably start packing his shit and call it a night. He wondered if Wooyoung had told Yunho that he was coming over, and he wondered if Yunho hated him even more right now.
“You should get that tattoo if you really want it.” Yunho broke the charged silence, and Mingi’s eyes widened. He had not expected Yunho to say that.
“Re-really?” He stuttered and flushed for being such a loser, “Uhm, yeah, I agree. A cute duck would look…cute…on me…maybe.”
“Depends where you put it.” Yunho shrugged, expression still as impassive as ever, and Mingi felt like he was in a fever dream, “Would be funny if you tattooed it on your ass cheek.”
“What?!” Mingi sputtered, utterly confused but also really flustered. Yunho’s whole image was this extremely serious and no jokes guy, always glaring or looking like he had a stick shoved up his ass – no offence – his expression stoic, either glaring or staring for no reason, making people feel uncomfortable.
So to hear him even attempt to make a joke with that blank face had Mingi questioning his reality, wondering if he had somehow fallen asleep while waiting for Wooyoung to come back with their beers.
Mingi pinched himself and hissed. So nope, he wasn’t dreaming.
Yunho watched Mingi for a second longer, then trudged towards the kitchenette, where he yanked the fridge door open, as the hinges were rusty and sometimes didn’t even work. Mingi had told Wooyoung to demand a new one from their landlord—hell, there was mould in the back of it and no matter what they did, it refused to stay gone for long!
Clearing his throat, Mingi watched as Yunho grabbed the orange juice carton, twisted the lid off, and then drank straight from it. Wooyoung would have screamed at Yunho had he been there to see the batter, but Mingi wasn’t going to tell on Yunho. Not unless he wanted to become the batter’s mortal enemy, which was very possible at the moment.
“So, uhm, are you okay? I mean, you look a lot better than the last time I saw you.” Mingi tried to start a conversation, something that made him forget about the embarrassing duck tangent he had gone on, thinking it was his best friend returning from the store. And Mingi really meant what he said, because the swelling had gone down, but the butterfly bandage had also seemed to have gotten smaller.
“Thanks. Are you saying I look like shit most of the time?” Yunho raised an eyebrow as he turned around, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed across his chest. Mingi’s eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head so hard his glasses nearly flew off.
“No! Oh my God, no! I just meant your nose and the swelling…which I’m terribly sorry for, by the way.” Mingi scrambled to save face, looking as guilty as he still felt.
“Are you going to apologise every time you see me?” Yunho raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips, “It’s becoming really annoying, even worse than the stupid fangirls following me around on campus.”
“You have fangirls?” Mingi’s eyes widened as he asked in wonder. San had never said anything about having fangirls, perhaps because the pitcher was just too humble to brag about something like that.
“A few very annoying ones, but you are reaching new levels with your pathetic puppy-like eyes and frown whenever you are around me.” Mingi’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away, biting his bottom lip. It’s not that he was easily offended, but his heart was fragile, and nobody liked being called pathetic. But Mingi supposed he deserved it after everything, “Just don’t start apologising for making me lose the game too, I’m begging you.”
Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked back at Yunho, reminded about their encounter in the library again, “Right, I’m so—oh, I mean. Yeah, I’ll try not to bother you again…like ever…I bet you wouldn’t mind that...”
Mingi couldn’t tell what Yunho’s frown meant, and he didn’t bother trying to understand it either, “But at least I got you your favourite croissant, right? Hah, I was trying to make up for the injury…not that a croissant is enough, but I thought it would be a nice gesture…”
“The almond crème croissant?” Yunho quirked an eyebrow, and for a second, he looked like he was about to laugh.
“Yeah, that one. Did you like it?” Mingi smiled, hopeful, “I bought it from your favourite bakery.”
“I’m allergic to almonds, Mingi.” And for a second, the words didn’t register. Then, Mingi’s whole world stopped spinning.
“What?!” He didn’t scream, but his voice was suddenly very loud, “But-but Wooyoung! He said—I don’t understand! He said you love almond crème-filled croissants! That you never share them with him because of how much you love them! I don’t understand.”
For the first time in his life, Mingi witnessed Yunho’s stoic mask break. The batter snorted as his lips pulled into a wide and amused grin, quickly hidden behind those long fingers and large hands.
Mingi’s eyes widened, and his heart stuttered traitorously. He frowned at the feeling, irked as he didn’t want to feel anything like that unless it was for his soulmate.
“Wooyoung loves that croissant. He tricked you into buying it because he knew I would give it to him since I can’t eat almonds.” Yunho snorted, then cleared his throat and stood up tall, schooling his expression as Mingi’s whole world crumbled in mere seconds. How could Wooyoung do that to him?! “Aren’t best friends supposed to know that about each other?”
“I know! I just—it didn’t click! I was so happy I could at least try and make it up to you, and then—shit, I screwed it all up again!” Mingi groaned, hiding his face in his hands as the front door suddenly swung open.
“I’m home!” Wooyoung hollered, plastic bag swinging from his hand as he was sucking on an icicle, his mouth stained blue like he was a toddler, “Wha—”
“You ass!” Mingi lunged for his best friend, who shrieked and nearly collided with the wall to escape Mingi’s claws, “You lied to me! Made me embarrass myself again! Yunho is allergic to almonds!”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know!” Wooyoung’s innocence was so fake it hurt to watch and hear, “Whoopsies!”
“Come here!” Mingi squinted his eyes, and he waved his best friend over, but he shook his head stubbornly and inched towards Yunho to use as a human shield.
“Ah, no. Keep me out of this feud.” Yunho raised his arms as he moved far away from Wooyoung, inching towards the left end of the counters so he could slip away to his bedroom.
Mingi paid the batter no further attention as he was focused on Wooyoung, who was pouting at him.
“Mingi—”
“Wooyoung.”
And after a beat of silence and stagnancy, Wooyoung shrieked as Mingi lunged again. Why have enemies when they are right under your nose, disguised as your best friend, Mingi thought.
⚾︎
Mingi had reached lows he hadn’t thought were possible. For a second, he wondered who the idiot was who pushed him to get a fine arts degree, then realised it was the clown staring right back at him in the mirror. Mingi snorted at himself, then looked down at the scissors in his hands. He lifted them slowly, pulling strands of his hair this and that way, wondering if he should do it. But at last, the scissors clattered into the sink, and Mingi nearly started sobbing. He couldn’t do it, as a matter of fact, he didn’t want to cut his pretty long hair. It made him feel good about himself…pretty and cute even.
With a low groan falling from his lips, Mingi wondered for a second if phoning up his mother and breaking down over the telephone would make her so panicked that she’d drive down to the city in just two hours, cook Mingi his favourite comfort foods, tuck him into bed like he was a kiddo again, and reassure him that everything would go fine, that the projects weren’t going to be the end of him even if Mingi felt like the guillotine was about to fall anytime over his neck.
Prof Park’s classes were supposed to be fun; they had been fun up until today, when he told them to flip to a blank page and grab their charcoal. Mingi was well-versed with the technique and feared nothing at this point, but then devastating words had left the young professor’s mouth, “For the lantern festival celebrated next month by our university, I will ask all of you to draw your soulmate’s faces with charcoal. If you haven’t found your soulmate yet, you can improve and explore your creativity by simply doing a self-portrait. This will count in your final grade, do not forget!”
And Mingi wanted to kill himself. Not only were his stress levels over the roof because of the projects he was now speed running through whenever he wasn’t in his classes, but now every other minute, he kept being reminded of his very absent soulmate.
There was just something in the air that was making everyone choose the topic of soulmates around Mingi as if they were trying to mock him, remind him that he was nearly twenty-five and basically bitchless. Not by choice, because Mingi would have loved to have his partner by his side already, but whoever it was, they were amazing at hiding from him.
So, yes, Mingi has had a terrible day, and just when he was finally ready to bunk down, his mind decided otherwise for him. After an hour of tossing and turning and getting tangled up in his stupid sheets, Mingi decided to change something about his appearance. Cutting his hair was a no-go, so he painted his nails an ugly neon yellow and black instead, then grabbed his leather jacket and stepped into his worn sandals to head to the 7-Eleven just around the corner.
He wouldn’t be out for long, so the last thought on Mingi’s mind was to look presentable. Plus, it was nearly midnight. Nobody would care or even see the tiny yellow ducks on his pyjama pants and the ugly yellow band t-shirt he got from Wooyoung for shits and giggles last year.
The bell chimed over Mingi’s head as he entered the relatively small store, nodding his head in greeting at the clerk. The guy couldn’t have been much older than Mingi, and he looked bored as he was loudly listening to whatever show he was watching on his phone. Mingi paid him no more mind as he grabbed a basket, let it hang from his arm like a purse and started browsing the shelves.
The art student didn’t have anything particular in mind to buy, as he didn’t want to spend too much money, but he was also feeling up for some snacks and a little something else that was yummy. He walked to the refrigerators first and lit up when he saw they were thoroughly stocked up on Onigiris. Mingi opened the glass door and grabbed three with salmon, feeling his stomach suddenly churn as if he were hungry. Mingi had had dinner, but it was way too long ago at that point.
Satisfied with his finds, Mingi then walked to the snacks, which were two rows from the cold fridges. The music playing through the stereos was quiet, and Mingi could hear the laughter of the hosts of whatever the clerk was watching. He thought there was nobody else inside the store as he peered at bags of chips and popcorn, his eyes falling on the large bottle of Nutella. God, Mingi would have done anything to stuff his face with Nutella pancakes. But he had none at home, and thus abandoned the idea with a regretful sigh.
With a small pout on his lips, Mingi crouched to grab the vanilla crackers he liked so much, looking for other flavours that caught his eye. His attention, however, was quickly averted when he noticed movement at the end of the row from the corner of his eye.
Mingi turned his head just slightly and involuntarily eyed the shadow moving just along the aisle, no hint of a person around. Mingi frowned, slightly spooked to see a shadow but not the human it followed after. Standing up tall, Mingi tilted his head as he now faced the shadow. It moved as if it was looking back at Mingi, and he gulped as he looked at it even closer.
It was tall, almost scarily so in the absence of a person, and Mingi flinched when it tilted its head. Mingi’s hair had fallen in his eyes in his scare, and he pushed his glasses up, frowning when the shadow moved similarly. Looking down the aisle, Mingi still saw no hint of whoever’s shadow it was, and feeling courageous for a second, the art student started for the mysterious shadow. That, however, moved swiftly as Mingi did, and he found himself chasing after a shadow that wasn’t even his, probably looking like a lunatic.
And in his pursuit, Mingi was too focused on the dark moving figure to look ahead, and gasped loudly when he collided with something solid. The basket nearly fell from his arm, but hands steadied him, and Mingi was glad he hadn’t fallen back on his ass with how aggressively he had lurched backwards. Apology and thanks on the tip of his tongue, Mingi looked up, ready to speak, but the words died in his throat as he came face to face with Yunho.
The baseball player was frowning, but not at Mingi. He held two cans of different sodas in his hands, making Mingi wonder how he had managed not to drop them during the collision. Mingi was too clumsy to stop something like that from happening, and he was glad Yunho was agile, because now Mingi’s bare toes would be soaked in soda, and he’d have to pay for the drinks and probably compensation as well.
“So, which one should I buy?” Yunho’s tone was bored as he looked at Mingi, shaking both cans. Mingi gulped, speechless, staring at Yunho for a good second. He would have never guessed he’d run into the batter here, and Mingi found himself embarrassed for a few different reasons.
One, he wanted to badly apologise for running into Yunho like that, two, he looked terrible, not that it mattered, three, why the hell had he followed a shadow like a lunatic?!
“Uh, uhm,” Mingi gulped, staring at Yunho’s face instead of the cans of sodas. He hadn’t noticed before, but the batter had three moles under his eyes, and his skin looked really soft. For a second, the art student felt compelled to reach out and touch the batter, recalling suddenly that he had done so already, when he didn’t know how to help Yunho after having injured him. His skin had been really soft, “Sprite? It’s green.”
Yunho blinked, unfazed by how much of a loser Mingi thought he was being again in front of the batter, “I should choose Sprite because the packaging is green? Alright.”
The batter shrugged, then turned swiftly and started walking towards the end of the aisle. Mingi had no idea what came over him, but he felt compelled to follow after him, his heart racing for no apparent reason.
It was from the scare, Mingi told himself. From what else could it have been?
The last thing he needed right now was to develop a stupid and unfulfilled crush on the star athlete of their university’s baseball team, especially when Yunho couldn’t care less about him and probably thought Mingi was an irritating idiot.
But Yunho was really handsome, Mingi found himself thinking as he realised Yunho was leading them towards the clerk, and Mingi was just dumbly following him.
Much like always, Yunho was wearing a sporty outfit, which told Mingi that he had probably come from practice or working out. Mingi wondered how the batter had time to juggle practice, attend classes, study, and still enjoy life. Not that he was much of a party animal, Wooyoung always complained about the batter choosing to play video games rather than go out with Wooyoung when San and Mingi were busy.
“Hi,” The clerk greeted them, looking less bored compared to when Mingi had walked in. “Anything else?”
Mingi didn’t miss the way the guy’s eyes sparkled a little as he looked at Yunho, the interest in his expression. Did the batter naturally turn heads wherever he went?
Mingi gulped, suddenly feeling something uncomfortable settle in his chest as he watched Yunho’s easy dismissal like he was used to the attention, like he really didn’t care. It wasn’t exactly jealousy that Mingi felt, but he couldn’t explain what else it was either.
It was something bitter and heavy on his chest, maybe because nobody looked at Mingi even twice, maybe because Yunho was just so handsome and perfect that he had been treated like this his whole life, even before he became well-known at their university.
Mingi was invisible, but Yunho wasn’t, and it was a weird realisation to have when Mingi had never cared before if he was seen or not by strangers. But if even a clerk ignored him, then how did Yunho see him? Did he even see Mingi at all?
Probably not, was the voice whispering in Mingi’s head.
Two weeks ago, the batter hadn’t even known Mingi’s name, hadn’t even looked at him when they crossed paths on campus. Sure, Mingi didn’t hang out too often at Wooyoung's and his place, but his best friend had spoken about him plenty of times. It was what he did best; he mentioned San and Mingi whenever he could.
Mingi sighed as he looked down at his bare feet, trying not to feel like shit when his whole day had been going downhill from the moment he awoke.
Mingi felt a nudge, and he frowned as he raised his head, unaware of the awkward silence and the stares of the two men on him as they waited for Mingi to place his items on the counter, “Oh—shit, sorry. I was lost in thought…”
Mingi’s cheeks flushed as he made sure not to make eye contact with either man, and he fumbled with his wallet for a second when he had placed all the items on the counter from the shopping basket. The clerk eyed Mingi almost sceptically, the pyjama pants he was wearing, then something behind Mingi.
Right, his shadow. The light fell just right, and with a swift glance behind himself, he could see it extend tall towards the shelves behind him and Yunho.
But as the clerk scanned Mingi’s items, his eyes kept flitting between Mingi and Yunho, straying to the batter’s shadow, looking just slightly crestfallen after a good minute of observing. Mingi frowned and turned just slightly to look down at Yunho’s shadow, too, but the clerk sighed loudly before he spoke up, “Do you want a bag, too?”
“Yeah, sure.” Mingi shrugged and grabbed the plastic bag as soon as it was scanned. The clerk told him the total, and while he scrambled to grab the crumpled bills out of his wallet, the clerk started putting his things into the bag, “Here, thanks.”
Mingi placed the exact money on the counter, and was just about to reach for his bag when the clerk put Yunho’s soda inside of it too, as the batter had left it on the counter, “Oh, that’s not—”
“Thanks.” But Yunho cut Mingi off before he could finish his sentence, and snatched the bag from the clerk before Mingi could do so. He frowned as he looked at Yunho, who nodded his head towards the exit.
“Have a good night!” Mingi called as he rushed to follow after Yunho, confused slightly and mostly taken off guard by how rude Yunho was to everyone. Mingi had assumed it was just a him thing, but it turns out Mingi wasn’t the problem here.
The 7-Eleven’s door closed behind them with a slam, and Mingi frowned as he looked at Yunho, who had reached inside the bag to grab his soda. Mingi watched the batter, then couldn’t help but speak up, “Do you just never greet people?”
Yunho raised an eyebrow as he handed Mingi his plastic bag. Their fingers touched for a second, and Mingi gulped, feeling something flutter uncomfortably in his stomach. He’s had crushes before, so he knew what the signs were, and it was bad if he was starting to feel butterflies in his stomach at such a simple touch. Since when did he even see Yunho like that?
“Words aren’t always necessary if your actions speak louder,” Yunho answered, deadpan.
“Yes, but your actions aren’t saying anything positive.” Mingi found himself countering the batter, “You are glaring, and you looked pissed off too, while the clerk was scanning our things.”
“He was staring at me.” Yunho faced Mingi, an eyebrow raised, “And looking at you weirdly too. And then tried to hit me up. I don’t like people like him. Of course I’m not going to be nice.”
When did that happen? Man, Mingi really needed to get out of his head unless he wanted to miss moments like that.
“Oh,” He gulped, reaching inside his bag to look busy, “I didn’t realise that…”
“Yeah, because you were busy staring at me—”
“I was not!”
The two stared at each other for a second, Yunho looking amused while Mingi was flabbergasted. Then the batter chuckled, and Mingi thought it was the second time ever that he’d seen his stoic mask break. But much like last time, it lasted for barely a second, and then Yunho’s face was blank again as he looked at Mingi, nearly bored.
“You were, but you also looked lost in thought.” Yunho broke the silence, then opened his can of soda with one finger only, and Mingi just knew San had taught the batter how to do that. Mingi had tried it plenty of times, too, but it never worked out. It was too difficult for the clumsy art student, his fingers bent weirdly, “Wooyoung tells me you’re an art student? Fine arts, more specifically.”
Mingi’s heart kicked harder again, and he hummed as he fumbled with his Onigiri, trying to open it without dropping it on the dirty ground, which would then turn into a waste of his money, “I am, yes. Last year…struggling my ass off, too…”
“Why?” Yunho asked as he took the lead again, starting to walk, and Mingi felt compelled to follow him again.
“We have a bunch of assignments and projects that I’m starting to be unable to keep up with.” Mingi pouted, picking at the seaweed as he looked down at his hands. The white plastic bag swung from his right wrist, the Onigiri held in both hands as he had stuffed the wrapping paper in his pocket, “And Prof Park keeps talking about soulmates and I just…”
Mingi cut himself off, regretting having brought up the subject, especially with Yunho. But the batter looked at him expectantly when Mingi didn’t finish his sentence, and even raised a curious eyebrow.
“I don’t have a soulmate—I mean, I haven’t found them yet.” The words rushed out of Mingi’s mouth before he could stop them, and he lowered his head so he wouldn’t see Yunho’s reaction. It wasn’t shameful, it was just Mingi who felt like shit about it…he was starting to think that he felt like shit about everything, “But Prof Park loves talking about soulmates and giving us assignments on drawing them in different scenarios using different techniques we’ve learned, and in two of my classes with him, I’m the only one who still hasn’t met their soulmate. So it feels…shitty. I feel shitty, like I’m…unworthy, embarrassing, I don’t know…”
The street they were walking down was quiet at that late hour, with lampposts casting large and almost comical shadows as the two men walked side by side. Warm lights spilt through the windows of the flats lined up on both sides, and Mingi watched a cat run past them as the silence stretched between him and Yunho.
He had said too much. They were strangers, and Mingi shouldn’t have been so honest, but it just all came out before he could stop himself.
“I haven’t found my soulmate either yet.” Yunho’s voice was quiet, uncharacteristic, and Mingi looked at him, surprised. The batter shrugged when he saw the expression on Mingi’s face, then looked ahead again, “It’s not shameful or embarrassing, you shouldn’t think about it like that. You are still you, and you can be complete on your own as well. I think I feel most complete when I’m alone with my thoughts, away from desperate eyes that only look at your shadow instead of you.”
Mingi had never seen it that way, perhaps because he was like that too at times. He gulped, wondering for a second if he had misjudged Yunho’s character all along. Maybe he wasn’t this brooding, cold guy Mingi had made up in his mind; maybe he was just protective of his heart and reserved around strangers who’d only use him.
“I dated a lot when I was a teenager, desperate to find my soulmate.” That made Mingi’s mouth fall open, and Yunho snorted before he rolled his eyes, “I know. It sounds insane, but I wasn’t better than anyone else…still am not, I’m just not in a rush anymore. There’s a reason for everything, and I think timing is important. I wasn’t mature enough for a long time, and I know I would have hurt my soulmate many times in the past, so I’m glad I didn’t find them back then.”
Mingi’s eyes strayed to the shadow following Yunho, and he saw someone nearly as tall as the batter, with messy long hair and something like a purse swinging from their hand. Then, Mingi looked at his own shadow and relaxed a bit at its familiarity, even if it frustrated him more often than not. It was someone tall who took too long steps, almost as if he was rushing Mingi to keep up with them. His arm was bent, and Mingi wondered whether the person was holding maybe their phone or a book.
“Do you like to read?” Mingi found himself asking, and Yunho shook his head. Well, that was answer enough, “Right. That was random, sorry. About dating…I never dated. I didn’t have it in my heart to fall for someone who wasn’t destined to be with me. And I also hated the thought of stealing someone’s soulmate. My parents…they aren’t soulmates, not real ones, at least. But they love each other the same, and have always been good to me, but I could never stop thinking about the fact that they just abandoned their true pairs. It’s so…unfair.”
“Life is not always fair.” Yunho’s voice was quiet, warm, and Mingi looked at him with big eyes, “We don’t have to be perfect, nor our relationships. The Universe wants us to find each other, but sometimes it just doesn’t happen. I don’t think it was wrong of them to fall in love as long as they live a happy life together.”
Mingi hummed, finding himself thinking about his parents' relationship in a new light. Mingi had never wanted to judge them too harshly since they were his parents and he loved them, but he had always disapproved a little of their decision to be together, despite it not being a true pairing. But Yunho was right, perhaps the shadows were just suggestions of the Universe.
Perhaps Mingi didn’t have to wait around for his soulmate to show up. Perhaps he could enjoy his life a little and find somebody to make him feel less lonely when he went out with San and Wooyoung, who were made for each other, perfect in every aspect.
“You’re right,” Mingi muttered with a smile, looking at Yunho, “Maybe I should start dating too. Live my life a little. I’m too young to be this single.”
“Oh, that’s not—” For a second, Yunho looked like he was lost for words. His eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw clenched, and Mingi wondered why he looked displeased suddenly. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and Mingi blinked at Yunho with a smile, not bothered by his cold expression anymore, “Well. I hope you have success in your dating endeavours. It’s not as fun as you might think. Lots of crazy people…”
“Are you crazy, Yunho?” Mingi asked with a grin, bumping his shoulder into Yunho’s, realising too late that he was insinuating that he could date Yunho too. But the batter just huffed and gave him a pointed look in response.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll find out one day.” And Yunho didn’t shut down Mingi’s insinuation, which had no business making the butterflies go haywire in Mingi’s stomach, but he couldn’t help it.
Mingi huffed to try to seem playful and then took a bite of his Onigiri to look busy by eating, as he had nothing to say. Mingi didn’t want to say anything, lest he’d accidentally ask Yunho to go on a date with him. Maybe the batter had similar thoughts as he walked alongside Mingi in silence, his eyes sometimes straying to Mingi’s face as he hummed in satisfaction while he finished the Onigiri.
Mingi didn’t notice when Yunho grabbed his plastic bag and tugged on it to veer Mingi away from the puddle he would have walked into, soaking his bare toes had it not been for the batter. And somehow, Mingi also forgot to question how Yunho knew where he lived when they turned down onto his street, which was in a completely different direction from Yunho and Wooyoung’s flat, and walked Mingi to his building.
And somehow Mingi didn’t find it weird either when, nearly at two in the morning, a notification popped up on his phone, and it was Yunho requesting to be his friend on Instagram. Instead, Mingi smiled and followed back, then accidentally posted his stupid duck pyjamas in his story, fast asleep when another notification had just popped up.
Yunho had liked his Instagram story.
𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋
Mingi frowned, bottom lip between his teeth, treated like a poor chew toy as if he were a dog. His glasses were pushed up on his head, pulling the strands fallen from his ponytail out of his face. The art student’s eyes were burning, had been for a while now, but the thick-rimmed glasses were irritating him, had been for at least an hour or so. The room reeked of oil paint, and the one poor open window did nearly nothing to air out the pungent smell. Mingi didn’t mind it, though. He found the smell of paint familiar and relaxing, something that helped spike his creativity, something that wasn’t working for some reason at the moment.
Palette held in his left hand, Mingi tilted his head as he tapped the wooden end of his paintbrush against his chin, just thinking. Though sometimes art didn’t require much thinking, Mingi found himself questioning his vision. He’d been cooped up in the small art studio for hours now, for so long that he was actually afraid to check the time. He knew he had missed calls from Wooyoung and probably received borderline hysterical messages from his mother, asking where he was and if he had eaten anything that day. And Mingi had a bagel this morning, which was…too long ago.
Someone shifted behind Mingi, and he sighed, dipping his paintbrush into the vibrant cerulean he’d decided to use for the sky. They had been tasked to choose a revolutionary era for the fine arts, and true to himself, Mingi had found himself sketching a beach that oddly resembled one of Monet’s paintings. It wasn’t quite like the Seine’s shore, but a true art lover would make the connections, just like Prof Park had done so upon a fleeting glance.
He hummed, pleased as he passed by Mingi’s stand and stool, smiling dashingly at the art student. And even though the silent approval and praise had felt somewhat good, Mingi was stuck again, something he often seemed to be doing lately. It was a bad sign. A stuck Mingi meant a burnt out Mingi, a Mingi that wasn’t creative and spent his days in bed, watching shitty movies and feeling under the weather. And Mingi couldn’t go into that phase when he was on the last hundred meters of reaching his goal.
Graduation.
“You go to 7-Eleven often?” The sudden voice coming from behind Mingi made him flinch, snapping him out of his thoughts. He wondered how long he had been staring blankly at his half-painted canvas, the light charcoal sketches still visible in some corners.
“Uhm, I don’t know,” Mingi answered the girl sitting behind him without turning around, knowing the question was addressed to him as it was just the two of them remaining in the studio. She was a nice girl, albeit a bit weird, but Mingi wasn’t one to judge. He knew people thought he was unusual at times, even though that was just Mingi’s rapidly thinking mind influencing whatever came out of his mouth first.
“I saw you like…maybe four days ago?” The girl hummed, her voice light and airy. Mingi frowned as he twisted slightly on his stool, shooting the girl a questioning gaze. Her dark hair was in two high pigtails, and she only wore yellows and pinks. “I was turning the corner on the street just as you were leaving the store with that popular athlete. His name is Jeong Yunho, I think. You looked cosy. I had no idea you were friends. You are just too different.”
Mingi gulped, hating the way his heart kicked faster at the mention of Yunho. These past days, something had shifted between them. Yunho had liked every story he posted, even the stupid ones – Mingi had tactfully tested it out – and the baseball player no longer ignored him if they crossed paths on campus, or even at his shared flat with Wooyoung.
Just yesterday, Mingi was over for a movie night, and Yunho had offered to make him dinner as well since he was already cooking for himself and Wooyoung. And then he had even spoon-fed Mingi as he wanted to hear his opinion whether the ragout needed more salt or not.
“Uh, we are…not really friends.” Mingi said awkwardly, blushing for no apparent reason, “He lives with my best friend, so we just…know each other, I guess.”
The girl quirked an eyebrow at Mingi, looking unconvinced, “I’m sure strangers don’t lean on each other when walking, nor do they look like they’ve known each other their whole lives.”
Mingi frowned, wondering if the girl was teasing him, or whether he and Yunho really did look like that to an outsider’s eyes. Humming under his breath, Mingi faced his canvas again, feeling just as stuck as seconds before, except his mind was on Yunho instead of on the perfect colour for the sky, so it wouldn’t look like the sea was one with it.
“It’s nothing like that,” Mingi mumbled at last, paintbrush between his teeth, “We happened to run into each other, and he walked me home.”
“How sweet,” The girl giggled behind Mingi, and he flushed again, glad that she couldn’t see him since he had turned his back to her, “He’s outside, by the way.”
“What?!” Mingi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide as he looked towards the door. The glass was blurred so it wouldn’t distract the students working on their art, but the small, round glass on the door wasn’t. And the girl was right.
Yunho was standing right there, looking slightly lost as he held his phone in one hand and something that looked like a zip-up hoodie in the other.
Mingi gulped, hastily placing his palette and paintbrush on the stand next to his stool as he stood, wiping his hands down in his stained apron. Mingi paid the girl no mind as she snorted under her breath, more preoccupied with Mingi and Yunho rather than her own art. And since Mingi sat closest to the door, he was there in three long strides, hand on the knob, before he could rethink his actions as he opened the door with more force than necessary.
“Oh,” Yunho muttered, surprised, his eyes widening as his arm was extended. He was just about to knock on the door and enter, and Mingi flushed red again, “Hi.”
“Hello, sorry, did I startle you?” Mingi asked, his voice sounding strange to his ears, as it felt raspy from not having spoken much that day. He cleared his throat in hopes that it would help, and tried to ignore the way Yunho was looking at him.
Mingi didn’t need to look in a mirror to know his light blue jeans were stained with different colours, his forearms too, as he had rolled up the sleeves of his form-fitting blouse. His apron was a mess, but that’s just what every art student's apron looked like; the beige was now a faded colour, stained with every other colour out there. His hair was messy, but with his accessories still on point, Mingi hoped he looked at least somewhat put together and not on the verge of losing his mind.
“I was just about to knock.” Yunho answered as he lowered his arm, gulping loudly, “Did I interrupt you? I apologise if I did.”
“Oh, no, I, uh, I really needed a small break.” Mingi huffed awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck, “What’s up? Is Wooyoung alright?”
Because Mingi couldn’t think of any other reason that would make Yunho seek him out, certainly, there wasn’t any other reason, right? Not even a month ago, Yunho didn’t even bother to acknowledge him.
“He’s fine, I would assume.” Yunho shrugged, then looked down at what he was holding. A dark green, knitted zip-up hoodie, and Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed. Wait. Hadn’t he been looking for it just this morning? “You left this at our place last night. Wooyoung’s busy today, so I thought I would bring it to you in case…it gets cold outside. And you need it. To wear it. So you don’t catch a cold. Yeah.”
Mingi tried not to gape, but it was a bit difficult. He managed to hum, looking down at his zip-up as Yunho held it out to him, “Right. I forgot until now that I left it at your flat. Thanks, you didn’t have to bring it all the way here, but I’m really grateful. Saves me from going over again tonight.”
“You could still come, if you wanted to.” Mingi blinked as Yunho spoke, their hands touching as Mingi had miscalculated where he should grip the zip-up hoodie. Yunho looked down for a swift second, then back up at Mingi, and nearly smiled.
The art student’s heart was racing, and he quickly took the zip-up hoodie from Yunho before the accidental touch could make the athlete feel uncomfortable. “I would love to, but if I don’t finish this painting today, I’m sure Prof Park will make sure to get me kicked out.”
“What are you painting?” Yunho peered over Mingi’s shoulders, and the art student was glad that he couldn’t see his canvas as the stand was turned away from the door.
“Oh, just stuff.” Mingi shrugged, shy all of a sudden since Yunho had never seen any of his works before.
“Right. Stuff.” Yunho echoed him, his expression unreadable as he looked back at Mingi. He had either not noticed the girl in the room or had chosen not to pay any attention to her. “Well, I best not hold you up then.”
“It’s fine,” Mingi smiled, holding the poor zip-up hoodie with a much too harsh grip, “Thanks for bringing it. I really appreciate the gesture.”
“Of course, it’s not a big deal.” Yunho shrugged, then stepped back, nodding his head once, “I’ll see you around, then. Bye.”
“Bye, Yunho.” Mingi waved as the athlete hummed, then turned and swiftly left, leaving Mingi not only confused but also feeling a bit fuzzy inside.
He closed the door with a stupid smile on his face as he stepped back inside the studio, clutching the zip-up hoodie to his chest, as he didn’t even realise he was grinning.
“Friends.” He heard the girl whisper, her smile wide, “You have each other’s shadows, by the way.”
“What?!” Mingi jerked at the audacious words of the girl, nearly running into his painting stand and knocking over his canvas. But the girl didn’t look at him, didn’t speak again, as if Mingi wasn’t even there. And he kept staring at her, frozen and bamboozled, nearly running after the baseball player to look at his shadow.
There was no way Yunho had his shadow; Mingi would have noticed it already! Did this girl think it was funny to say such things, especially when Mingi’s been struggling with this whole soulmate thing lately?!
Mingi rolled his eyes and sat heavily on his stool, trying not to glare, but it was hard not to when those words had given him both stupid hope and a type of chest pain he hadn’t felt before.
⚾︎
Wooyoung (4:40 pm):
oh my gosh!!!!!
mingi
im sooooooo sorry!!!!!!
i swear i didnt forget!!!!
Mingi (4:42 pm):
liar!!!!!
dude, we are supposed to meet in 45 minutes and u didnt tell me what u’ll wear!!!!
Wooyoung (4:44 pm):
i swear dude, i love u more than my cats
but
but
fuck
Mingi (4:45 pm):
just spit it out!!!!!!
Wooyoung (4:45 pm):
oh god
okay
i cant come anymore to the art gallery
im so dumb!
i forgot its my parents 25th anniversary today
i cant miss dinner unless i want to be skinned alive
im so sorry mingi!!!!!!!!
Mingi (4:48 pm):
oh
i thought u were going to hit me with another stupid excuse
just to hang out with san
ew
its okay, bro!
u go and have lots of fun!!
pass them my congratulations
i’ll send u the money back in a moment
Wooyoung (4:50 pm):
no need!!!
i’ve gotchu bro!
yunho will be there at 17:30 sharply
but dont hurry much
hes a freak
he always needs to be early everywhere!!
have fun, mingles!!! <33333
Mingi (4:54 pm):
what
wooyoung
wait
what?!
yunho???
jeong ?? yunho ??
JUNG WOOYOUNG
WDYM?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
HEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
𓂃🖌
Mingi had to stop touching his lips, and he needed to stop tugging on strands of his hair. He knew he looked fine; he knew it, but the art major was so nervous that he was seconds away from throwing up.
Mingi was late. Not by much, but six minutes were enough to make him feel nauseous when the stupid cab driver caught another red light. The man was driving like a slug, and Mingi’s patience had run out when they rolled up to the traffic light like they had all the time in the world.
Shaking his head, Mingi had reached inside his pocket and grabbed the money the device on the board said he needed to pay, and tossed it on the passenger seat while already out of the car with half a foot.
The National Art Gallery was just a block away, and Mingi figured he could just run and make it there faster than having to wait for the stupid cab driver to step on that damn gas pedal already. He ran between the stationary cars to cross the road, unable to catch the green light for pedestrians if he walked all the way to the front of the juncture. Safely getting to the pavement, Mingi adjusted his bomber jacket, his necklaces clanking together loudly as he huffed a frustrated breath out.
He had painted his nails last night, purple and black, but somehow the one on his left pinkie had already chipped off. In his haste to get ready, Mingi redid it, and now it looked like a mess. It had smudged when he tried to pull on his baggy black and grey jeans, so there was a purple stain on the lighter part of the fabric. Mortified because he hadn’t prepared a plan B outfit, Mingi grabbed his other nail polishes and did what he did best. Smudged the rest of his jeans with colours, possibly looking like a clown to those who had no artistic eye.
And Yunho was an athlete. Mingi didn’t want to be rude, but the man didn’t have an ounce of artistic bone in his body. He most definitely wouldn’t see Mingi’s vision, and the art student already feared that he looked like a fool to Yunho. Nothing new about that; many people underestimated Mingi and looked down on him for his sometimes air-headed nature. They just didn’t know he was a genius deep down, hiding it until it benefited him.
His heavy boots were loud against the concrete as he hurried down the large boulevard, walking between people and trying not to bump into an obnoxious group of teenagers who lacked a sense of awareness and walked all over the sidewalk, talking loudly, too. Mingi paid them no mind as he ran a hand through his hair, trying not to ruin the frail braids he had managed to do, accessorising them with little hoops and beads.
Okay. So, maybe Mingi had dolled himself up more than usual, doing a completely different outfit than he would have worn if he were still going with Wooyoung. There was a new art exhibition in town, an immersive experience of Claude Monet’s paintings. And as an art student, Mingi felt obliged to go, whether Monet was his favourite painter or not. Impressionism has always had a soft spot in Mingi’s heart, so when he saw the ad on his phone, he didn’t even think about it as he sent it to Wooyoung, both excited to go.
And really, Mingi would have gone whether Wooyoung decided to tag along or not, but for his best friend to send his flatmate as a replacement, Jeong Yunho, who Mingi was sure still didn’t like him very much, was not only shocking, but really panic-inducing too.
The art major’s heart was racing as he rounded the block and the grandiose National Art Gallery came into view. It was an old but beautiful beige building, with large columns and marble stairs leading up to the entrance. It sat on a plateau in front of verdant gardens in bloom, colourful wildflowers blooming between bushes, the rose arches attracting tourists and locals alike.
For a second, Mingi relaxed when he didn’t see Yunho. He was hopeful that the athlete had better things to do than come to a stupid art exhibition with an even stupider man, but that hope all but died in his chest when Mingi looked towards the rose arches and saw Yunho standing in front of them, phone in hand, taking pictures of the beauty.
Mingi’s stomach lurched in that annoying way, and his cheeks flushed for no reason. He wished he had brought a bottle of water with him, because it felt like his mouth was parched all of a sudden. His feet carried him towards the athlete before Mingi could think better about it.
“Hey,” Mingi called as he neared Yunho, trying to smile and not show just how nervous he felt, “I’m sorry I’m so late.”
“Hello,” Yunho put his phone away, turning to face Mingi with a small smile. The art major froze, his eyes widening slightly. Yunho has never smiled at him directly, even if barely, and Mingi’s mind went static, “Don’t worry, I’m just usually early. I didn’t have to wait long for you. And the view is pretty, so I don’t mind.”
Mingi gulped, pushing his hands in his pockets to try and hide his fidgeting, “Alright, I’m glad then. And, uh, sorry that Wooyoung made you come with me. You really didn’t have to, I don’t want to bother you or something.”
“If I didn’t want to come, I wouldn’t have come.” Yunho’s tone was rather assertive, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, “I like art galleries, especially exhibitions like this one.”
“Oh, I didn’t know,” Mingi mumbled, trying to keep his eyes from wandering all over Yunho’s body. He was dressed casually, yet he looked effortlessly put together, and Mingi couldn’t stop staring.
His jeans were more form-fitting than Mingi’s, and a deep blue that looked really nice on the athlete’s long legs. He wore a white, form-fitting cardigan that seemed to be from an expensive brand – Mingi couldn’t see the logo just yet – with the buttons of it stopping at his sternum. Yunho wore no shirt underneath, and Mingi tried to tell himself that it was totally cool, that he wasn’t staring at his exposed collarbones, nor at the man’s lithe form underneath his clothes. His black coat reached below his knees, and the small purse slung across his torso made the athlete look sophisticated.
For a second, Mingi noted how well Yunho’s face and body would fit in a Renaissance painting, his beauty blinding and evoking feelings of longing if one were to stare too long at him. He was the complete opposite of Mingi’s style, which was loud, obnoxious and unabashedly himself, and that, for some reason, had Mingi’s heart racing.
“I know. People don’t expect athletes to be very educated, or to even enjoy something like the arts. But I’m quite a big history nerd, so don’t be surprised if I know more about some of the artists than you.” Yunho’s tone was teasing as he tilted his head, and Mingi huffed, rolling his eyes playfully.
“I doubt you’d know more than me. In my first year, I ate, drank and breathed art history and everything one was supposed to know about the artist and their craft.” Mingi challenged playfully, and Yunho hummed, not rebutting this. As a second of silence passed between them and Mingi, unable to stop himself as he checked Yunho out again, he let his mouth speak before his brain weighed his words, “You look really good, Yunho.”
The second the words left Mingi’s mouth, he felt mortified. His eyes widened a little bit, scrambling to find the right words to play it off like some joke or anything, really, but Yunho blushed. Jeong Yunho, the man who despised Mingi, actually blushed as he lowered his eyes, an abashed chuckle leaving his lips. Mingi’s jaw slackened a little, his own cheeks flushing as he watched Yunho compose himself after a second of raw fluster.
“Thank you,” The athlete’s tone was even, but his cheeks continued to burn, “You look like you just walked out of a Top Gun movie. It suits you, I like it.”
Oh shit. The butterflies in Mingi’s stomach went crazy, making him speechless at the compliment. Never in his life had the art major expected Yunho to not only blush at his compliment, but to give him one back.
Their little moment was broken, however, when two girls walked over, their smiles wide.
“Hi, sorry, could you take a picture of us here?” The taller one asked as she was already handing her phone to Yunho, while her friend pointed at the arch to the right.
“Sure!” Yunho was eager to help as he followed after the girls, motioning with his head for Mingi to go as well. Still recovering from what had happened just seconds ago, Mingi followed along dumbly, staring at the back of Yunho’s head and probably burning a hole in it.
The two girls walked a bit further inside the arch, and Yunho visibly locked in as he started snapping pictures, even offering help as he instructed them for better poses. Mingi was impressed, but also amused as he watched the athlete, his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his cherry lips pouted.
He was cute, that Yunho guy.
“Thank you!” The girls giggled as they jogged up to Yunho and took the phone back, swiping through the pictures, looking rather pleased with the outcome. Yunho smiled back and bowed his head slightly, about to head towards Mingi, when the shorter girl caught the sleeve of his coat, “Wait. Don’t you two want pictures, too?”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea! I’ll gladly take it for you two!” The taller one called excitedly, and Mingi gaped at them like a fish, about to object when he saw Yunho fish his phone out of his pocket and hand it over to the shorter girl.
“Wait—for real?” Mingi asked in surprise as Yunho looked at him, nodding his head to where the girls stood seconds ago, “Alright.”
The two didn’t know what to do once the camera was on them. Mingi gulped, standing awkwardly next to Yunho, trying to smile as they both stood with their arms by their sides, distance between their bodies.
“Oh, come on!” The taller girl called, shaking her head at them, “Don’t be shy in front of us! Hold on to each other!”
“Yeah, blow a kiss or something! Have fun!” The shorter one encouraged too as she held the camera, getting ready to snap more pictures.
Mingi gulped as he looked at Yunho, who was already watching him. The slightly taller one motioned for Mingi to step closer, but the art student did the same at the same time. They chuckled and stepped closer at once, bumping into each other.
Mingi couldn’t help it anymore as he started giggling, holding onto the sleeve of Yunho’s coat so he didn’t lose his balance. The athlete smiled at him, something that looked like fondness written across his features, but Mingi didn’t notice it as he was busy pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, worried about his hair looking ruffled from the light breeze.
But then, Mingi felt an arm around his waist, and his eyes widened as he looked at Yunho, who faced forward, a pleased grin on his face.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” The girls called, and Mingi flushed, but grabbed Yunho’s shoulder and leaned into the athlete, facing the camera as well.
They smiled as the girls cheered and giggled, snapping pictures from different angles while coming closer. The photoshoot came to an end when Mingi glanced at his wristwatch and gasped; only five more minutes, and then their tickets would be null.
They thanked the girls and grabbed Yunho’s phone, then raced to the entrance and skipped the line since Mingi had bought the more expensive ones with more benefits. Shaking their jacket and coat off at the wardrobe, the two were good to go inside the exhibition.
The first room was no biggie. Music played from the speakers overhead, loud enough that it felt jarring as they walked inside, but not so loud that they couldn’t speak to each other at a normal volume. Yunho walked close to Mingi as the art major’s eyes widened, an elated smile settling on his lips. Mingi loved this so much. Being surrounded by art – colours, history, stories hidden on canvases, memories of great artists, of times that were happier and better.
Taking it all in, Mingi’s wide eyes moved from wall to wall, reading the words that were being projected, each painting a story of its own, a moment from Monet’s life. At the far end, the painter’s The Water Lily Pond painting was hung up on the wall, overhead lights falling on it and brightly illuminating it. Mingi smiled, already familiar with it, but still as fascinated by it as the first time he had seen it.
“You really like Monet, don’t you?” Mingi flinched at the sudden voice, having nearly forgotten that he was there with Yunho.
He chuckled, embarrassed, as he looked back at Yunho, who was strolling after him casually, hands behind his back.
“Yeah, how did you know?” Mingi asked after a moment, leading the way to the painting.
“Your face lit up the second we entered through the curtains,” Yunho noted, so casually that Mingi worried for a second that the athlete was already bored, “And you haven’t stopped smiling for even a second since.”
Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as his hand came up to touch his lips, Yunho’s eyes following the movement. The athlete gulped as he watched Mingi’s fingers trace his bottom lip, then averted his eyes with a huff. Mingi frowned, but figured Yunho was right.
“Oh, I didn’t even realise it.” He muttered under his breath, coming to a stop in front of the painting, “I hope this is not boring to you.”
“We just started, Mingi,” Yunho chuckled, unamused, “And I told you I like art.”
“Right.” Mingi cleared his throat, feeling like he had ruined the mood. He peeked at Yunho from the corner of his eye, but the athlete didn’t look irritated or really that bored, “Sorry. You are just hard to read.”
Yunho frowned as he turned his head to look at Mingi, “I am?”
“Yeah,” Mingi nodded, his voice quiet, “And you’re really grumpy all the time, no offence.”
“None taken, I know I am.” Yunho chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes, “Want to move to the next room?”
Mingi nodded and allowed Yunho to lead the way as he tried to ignore the uneven rhythm of his heart. The next few rooms were similar to the first one; the projections plastered on the walls and ceilings were of Monet’s most famous paintings, the projection moving under their feet and making Mingi dizzy if he looked at them too long. There were holograms in some of the rooms, too, and both Yunho and Mingi chuckled when a group of little kids tried to grab at the pixelated particles, just to be scolded by their parents before they hurried to the next room.
Phone in hand, Mingi trudged after Yunho leisurely as he snapped photos and took some videos of the place as a way to remember it, but also to send it to Wooyoung later. He smiled to himself as he snapped a photo of his reflection in the mirror room, dried poppies, which were supposed to represent the poppies from Monet’s Poppy fields near Argenteuil, hanging from the ceiling, being cute props in Mingi’s pictures.
When he noticed Yunho watching him, waiting for him at the curtain so they could proceed into the next room, Mingi’s cheeks burned in embarrassment as he quickly caught up with the athlete, who seemed amused as he held the curtain aside for Mingi.
The art major then quickly swiped through the pictures he had just taken, just to make sure they had come out all right, and noticed his shadow facing him. Well, not his shadow, but his shadow.
Mingi chuckled to himself, zooming in on the shadow, wondering what his soulmate was up to. Suddenly attacked by a memory of his exchange with the girl in the art studio four days ago, Mingi gulped, his heart skipping a beat as he frowned.
Slowly looking up from his phone, Mingi’s eyes fell on Yunho’s shadow, watching it with curiosity. It’s been a long while since Mingi was ‘on the shadow hunt’, but for the first time in his life, something in his gut coiled as he watched the shadow following after Yunho. It was faint since the lights were dim in this room, the orchestra music louder than in the previous ones, so the shadow was nearly see-through, but Mingi could see it clearly.
It was nearly as tall as Yunho, just a few centimetres of difference now as he looked at it more closely, walking with a kind of swag that Wooyoung had always made fun of Mingi for having. The shadow was holding something in the right hand, and Mingi gulped, trying to figure out what. It was small and rectangular, but the owner was clutching it for dear life, kind of like Mingi was holding his phone in his right hand.
The girl’s words echoed hauntingly in Mingi’s mind, and his eyes widened slightly as he adjusted his glasses, Yunho’s shadow doing something similar. There was no way in Hell that Yunho had Mingi’s shadow, like it was physically impossible. Yunho didn’t like him much – or maybe he did now? Mingi couldn’t tell for sure, but the athlete had stopped glaring at him as much, so that was a positive sign to the art major.
Even still, Mingi couldn’t imagine the despair Yunho would feel if he were destined to be with a man like himself. It’s not that Mingi looked down on himself, but he knew Yunho, and they were too different, and would most likely not work out.
If there was one thing Mingi truly feared – not the way he feared flying and heights, but true, sickening fear – then it was ending up like his parents, accidentally stealing someone else’s soulmate. And if Yunho and he didn’t match but were soulmates, then they couldn’t live a life forced to be by each other’s side.
Maybe Mingi could live alone for the rest of his life. If he had done it for twenty-four years, then why couldn’t he do it until he was ninety and probably living with either Wooyoung and San, or in an elderly home?
Mingi gasped when he collided with something sturdy, and Yunho huffed as he looked over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. Lost in his thoughts, Mingi hadn’t noticed that Yunho stopped walking and ran straight into his back.
“Uh, sorry.” Mingi mumbled, rubbing his nape as he came to stand next to Yunho, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I noticed that you were deep in thought about something. Is everything alright?” Yunho questioned, his voice surprisingly gentle.
Mingi gulped and looked into his eyes, feeling something come over him as he shrugged, biting his bottom lip.
“I just…really don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life.” The truth spilt out of him before he could regret it.
Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Mingi, visibly contemplating something.
“You know Monet thought his soulmate had died?” Yunho’s question took Mingi off guard, “And he was so sad about it that he started painting the places he imagined they would have visited together. In each painting, there’s a lady with black hair, because that’s what Monet imagined his soulmate to be like, black-haired with shiny green eyes.
“They only found each other when they were in their late forties, because she was not from France. She lived in rural Hungary, far from the likes of someone like Monet. One evening, they were both cruising the Seine, lost in thought until they bumped into each other just like you had bumped into me. It was love at first sight, or so the historians say, but I lean towards believing them.”
Mingi gulped, seeing Yunho in a new light as he had a gentle smile on his face, gazing at the shimmering painting in front of them, “I know Monet has a lot of splendid paintings, but this one is my mother’s favourite.”
Mingi looked at the Weeping Willow that seemed to be moving with the light breeze, a gentle gust blowing through the room to create the illusion of real wind, “How come?”
“Because she met my father under a Weeping Willow. They had me at eighteen, very young and irresponsible, but they did their best to raise me with the help of their parents. My mother was still going to school while she was pregnant with me, and my father had already started working.” This was the first time Yunho shared anything, even relatively personal, and Mingi was all eyes and ears, “It was love at first sight, even before they realised they had each other’s shadows. They love to tell the story whenever they can, and I fear they never grew out of their teenage love, pink-cloud phase. It was hard at first to navigate their youth while they were raising me as well, trying to offer me a stable home while remaining unmarried, much to their families' disagreement, and then my little brother was born, too, and things got even more complicated. But they pushed through, and they built a lovely family for themselves and a beautiful home. They were always so good to my brother and me.”
“That sounds lovely,” Mingi whispered with a smile, feeling his chest all warm and fuzzy.
“You know, Mingi,” Yunho faced the art major, his features all soft and Mingi couldn’t stop staring, “My parents never married. They believe in soulmates and in each other, and I’ve never seen two people love each other as much as they do, but they said you never know. Today, they are fine and madly in love; tomorrow, something happens, and they can’t go on together anymore.
“Sure, the Universe created two halves of the same soul, which would only truly be complete the second they unite, but you still have a choice, just like your parents did, just like mine did. They both chose not to let the Universe fully dictate their fate, to keep a small window open in case something happens. If you really want to find your soulmate, nobody is stopping you from doing so. But along the way, you might find people whom you will care about, and it’s alright to feel. Nobody will hate you for it, nobody will judge you for it. Especially not me, when I’ve once been so desperate that I dated nearly everyone from my small town in hopes that they would be the one.”
Mingi had no idea what to say, but he had the sudden urge to reach out, to hold Yunho’s hand, so that’s what he did. His heart was beating like crazy from how deeply Yunho was gazing into his eyes, and despite being flustered, Mingi didn’t dare look away.
The athlete tensed when Mingi’s fingers brushed against the back of his hand, but he didn’t pull away. Taking it as a green light, Mingi gently intertwined their fingers, holding onto Yunho’s hand tightly, something that felt like finally settled deep in his stomach.
“I thought we were very different, but I’m starting to change my mind.” Mingi’s voice was quiet but filled with emotion, “Maybe we are more similar than I would have ever thought. And I—I know you don’t like me very much, but I’m starting to realise that I like spending time with you. You make me very curious about who you are, and sometimes I see your face in the shapes I paint. I apologise if that is too forward or strange, but I’m…I’m an honest person who sucks at keeping things to himself.”
“Who told you I don’t like you?” Yunho asked with a frown, squeezing Mingi’s hand.
The art major gulped, shrugging a little, “Nobody, I just assumed…especially after I nearly broke your nose.”
“Then you assumed wrong,” Yunho’s tone was matter-of-fact, “Because I like you. Quite a lot, actually. I always have, I’m just not good at expressing myself.”
“Oh,” Mingi blinked at Yunho dumbly, his heart racing almost painfully fast in his chest. He flushed as he huffed, lowering his head before he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his long nose, “Alright. Thank you for not hating me, I guess.”
“You are hard to hate when you are this cute,” Yunho grinned as he shook their intertwined hands, then pulled gently, getting Mingi to move, “Now let’s go to the next room, it’s my favourite.”
“You’ve been here before?!” Mingi sounded as shocked as outraged, and Yunho just laughed.
“Yeah, with my mom a week ago. Her favourite artist is Monet. She paints too, you know?” At the wink thrown over his shoulder, Mingi’s knees nearly turned into pudding.
Why has Wooyoung never told Mingi this?! Oh gods, he had embarrassed himself so hard tonight.
But despite that thought, their night ended only after they’d hit up a pub and drank two pints of beer, sharing silly stories as well as sob memories, laughing heartily at stupid misfortunes and finding companionship in shared experiences. When Mingi had entered his flat at a late evening hour, his heart was still racing, and his cheeks were still burning.
Yunho had walked him home again, insisting that he’d only sleep well tonight if he did so. After the second attempt of getting Yunho to abort his plan, Mingi gave in to the stubborn athlete and intertwined their fingers again as they walked down the streets, huddled close together on the tram as they laughed at the silly photos they ended up taking of each other in the pub.
But the cherry on top, the one that nearly made Mingi phone his mother and gush to her about this stupidly handsome athlete, was the notification that popped up just as Mingi was about to get into the shower.
Yunho had posted a photo dump of today, and he had tagged Mingi in not one, but two pictures. One the girls took of them under the rose arches, the other Yunho had taken while Mingi was slurping on his beer, having a foam moustache.
He just knew Wooyoung would blow up his phone when he finally saw Yunho’s post, and he had no intentions of confessing his heart's truest desires.
𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋
Mingi’s left knee was bouncing up and down violently, and he was sure his cuticles were already bloody. As if Wooyoung sensed his train of thought, his best friend slapped his hand away before he intertwined their hands. He was just as nervous as Mingi, if not more so, given his quiet demeanour and complete focus on the game. Aurora University’s adversary was no joke today. The boys had wicked arms and a pitcher so talented that he was either fucking with Yunho’s team, or sending slow balls that wouldn’t fly far on purpose. Not that Mingi knew anything about baseball, but he had two good eyes, and he could assume…something he was really good at.
Wooyoung was muttering something underneath his breath, eyes locked on Yunho as he rolled his shoulders out, walking up to his plaque. Mingi’s heart was thundering in his chest, but he was trying to tell himself it was definitely not because of how handsome Yunho looked, being in his element, batting like his life depended on it…or well, the game’s outcome, which was a tie at the moment. They were in the last minutes, and if Yunho fucked it up now, Aurora University would lose. No biggie, right? No pressure at all!
Mingi was sure he would have caved under so many watchful eyes, the booming cheers in the grandstands and the cunning grins on the adversary’s faces. It’s not that Mingi had stage fright, but if the outcome of an important game depended solely on him, the paramedics would long be out on the field, trying to ease Mingi’s panic attack.
Good thing Yunho wasn’t like Mingi, though, the art major thought.
The tall athlete looked sure of himself as he took up a hip-width apart stance, gripping his metal bat with trust and a smirk that rivalled the pitcher’s, who was glaring at Yunho. The athlete seemed to be having fun, and Mingi found himself grinning as Wooyoung glanced at him, knocking their shoulders together in an attempt to soothe and encourage Mingi. The art major appreciated it, squeezing Wooyoung’s hand back before he faced the field again.
Number 68 pitched, and it was a foul ball. The crowd sighed, some even booing the pitcher, who seemed even more full of himself now. Mingi wanted to yell eat shit, but he didn’t want to get banned from future games…not when Yunho had walked up to him two days ago with cups of coffee in his hands, nudging one towards Mingi, excitement in his voice despite his neutral expression as he asked Mingi if he would come and watch him play.
Taken off guard but also flustered, Mingi could do nothing but nod and be a loser when he told Yunho he had painted him last night for Prof Park’s spur-of-the-moment project. Yunho’s eyebrows twitched for a second before he hid what looked like a smile behind his cup, and then Mingi was flushing and avoiding looking at the athlete.
Number 68 pitched again, and this time it was a curveball that Yunho didn’t hit quite right and fell to the side, way out of the field. The crowd tensed, their only chance at a win being the next ball. The pitcher didn’t hesitate to throw it, hurling it towards Yunho at great speed, one that would have had Mingi yelping and jumping out of its way.
But the batter didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe as he pulled his arm back and whack!
The ball hitting the metal bat was loud, and Mingi flinched, his eyes growing wide when he saw just how high and far the ball flew.
“Oh my God,” Wooyoung whispered next to Mingi, his voice shaky, “Oh. My. God. It’s-it’s going to be a—”
“Home Run!” Mingi hollered at the top of his lungs as he jumped up, breaking the stunned silence as Yunho cheered, his laughter audible as he started lazily jogging down the field, touching the plates almost mockingly when it was clear as day to everyone that the batter had just hit a Home Run.
Mingi’s blood was buzzing, and his skin was jittery as he started jumping up and down, his mouth pulled into the widest smile ever, yanking a stunned Wooyoung up to his feet as he was still blinking in a daze at the scoreboard.
Aurora University won by one point only, but it didn’t matter. What did matter was that they were the champions of the universities’ minor league, which would not only look good on a resume, but probably get some of the scouted too.
The grandstands' cheers were deafening, the rival team's fans not making a sound as they started leaving with shakes of their head, some of them clapping the others on the back as a sign of solidarity.
Mingi needed none as he grabbed his tote bag and struggled for a second to push his arm through the hole, grinning down at Wooyoung, who was already pushing his way towards the end of the aisle. Nothing and nobody could stand in his way when he was determined to get to his soulmate and kiss the daylights out of him, and for the first time, Mingi didn’t mind his best friend’s rudeness, as it meant he’d also get to Yunho faster.
People were already spilling out on the field, gathering around the players as they jumped around in a circle, celebrating with loud hoots and laughter, kissing their coach on his bald head, who pretended to hate the affection, but upon a closer look, it was obvious he loved it and was just as happy as his boys to win.
“San!” The muscular pitcher broke free from the circle when he heard Wooyoung’s shrill voice, and opened his arms as he smiled at Mingi’s best friend so widely that his eyes turned into crescents, his dimples deep.
Wooyoung giggled as he ran into San’s arms, legs around his hips as they embraced tightly, San twirling them in a circle as he pressed kisses against Wooyoung’s hair and cheeks. It was an endearing sight, one that made Mingi grin but also long to have something like that.
He gulped, standing to the side so he wouldn’t get trampled by the fans or the still celebrating players, fidgeting with his hands as his eyes strayed to Yunho.
The art major would wait, however long it took, until Yunho was free for a second so he could congratulate the athlete, but it seemed like Mingi didn’t have to wait for long when Yunho turned his head, and they finally made eye contact. Much like at the museum, this being the second time, Yunho broke into a wide smile as he detached himself from his teammates and headed for Mingi.
The art major’s heart was beating like crazy, and his palms were sweaty, something in his gut twisting. It felt like the world was tilting for a second, like he was seconds away from throwing up, like—like something was about to happen.
Before Mingi could even think, he was walking towards Yunho hurriedly, who seemed to be matching his pace as they were a little away from each other.
The sun was beating down on them like crazy, having nearly blinded Mingi while he was trying to watch the baseball game. He had forgotten to bring his attachable shades for his glasses, and had to squint through half of the game.
His shadow expanded long in front of him, taking large steps, for some reason faster than Mingi. The art major frowned, distracted by the strange occurrence as he was focused on his shadow instead of Yunho, who had noticed that something was wrong with his own shadow too.
For a second, the two shadows touched under the bright sunlight, and Mingi stopped walking.
His shadow was holding a tote bag at his side, glasses pushed up onto the top of his head. Yunho’s shadow wore a baseball cap, and his fingers fidgeted as he stared at it, his right foot stepping ahead at the same time as Yunho. Mingi raised his left hand, and his own shadow followed suit, making him gasp loudly.
It alerted Yunho as he looked over at the art major again, and Mingi gulped, his eyes shaky as he looked at Yunho.
The art major’s heartbeat had settled. Something in Mingi’s being unravelled, his soul releasing a long sigh, as if it was finally able to truly breathe.
Mingi’s bottom lip wobbled as he looked down at his shadow again, but it was gone. In its place stood a tall man wearing a baseball cap, a hand pressed against his mouth.
Mingi looked up and found Yunho doing the same, staring at him with such wide eyes that Mingi worried they might pop out of their sockets.
“Mingi,” The batter whispered, his voice shaky as he started walking again, breaking out into a sprint.
Mingi gulped, his tote bag falling to the ground as he took three long strides before Yunho’s body collided with his own. The breath was knocked from Mingi’s lungs, but he didn’t care as his eyes became blurry, arms around Yunho’s shoulders as he gripped onto the batter’s jersey as if his life depended on it.
A winded sound tore past Yunho’s lips, and Mingi thought for a second that the athlete was sobbing. His whole body was shaking as he embraced Mingi tightly, his head buried in the art major’s neck.
It felt so…right. Like it made sense all of a sudden, the way of the Universe, fate that’s brought them finally together.
It was also quiet and gentle, like the usual storm in Mingi’s head was…gone.
“I’m—I—” Mingi gulped, feeling lost despite being so happy, “I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry.”
“Then don’t say anything,” Yunho whispered, warm lips brushing against Mingi’s skin and making him shiver, “But you are everything and more I have ever wanted, Mingi.”
That made the tears roll down Mingi’s cheeks, and he sniffed, pressing his forehead against the side of Yunho’s head in an attempt to hide his tears from anyone looking at them, “Thank you for finding me. I was convinced I was going to die alone, and it just hurt so much. It was so confusing not to feel whole.”
“It’s so quiet right now,” Yunho whispered, pulling back so he could look Mingi in the face. He frowned when he saw the art major’s tears, and gently wiped his cheeks as Mingi sniffled, looking down at their feet, embarrassed, “Are you…sad that it’s me?”
“No! God, no!” Mingi shook his head, looking Yunho in the eyes. He had never seen such sincerity on the batter’s face before, his eyes a window to his soul, bright and happy and so beautiful, “I’m just overwhelmed. You are…more than what I ever dared fantasise about. Thank you.”
Yunho smiled, wide and genuine, and Mingi felt another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, but he didn’t want Yunho to think he was the one causing them, so the art major held them back.
“Come to the party tonight,” Yunho whispered as he cupped Mingi’s cheek, “As my plus one. We are celebrating our victory and I…I’d like you to be there, to share such an important moment with me and the others.”
“Really?” Mingi asked, surprised, thousands of butterflies flying in his stomach, nearly making him feel sick, “Yes, I would love that. I will be there, I promise.”
Yunho nodded, then leaned in, and for a second, Mingi thought the batter would kiss him. But Yunho didn’t; he just rested his forehead against Mingi’s and smiled, an incredulous giggle leaving his lips. It was infectious, and Mingi followed suit as he closed his eyes, feeling like he was on cloud nine.
“See you at nine.”
“See you at nine.”
⚾︎
Mingi couldn’t sit still. His whole body was buzzing, a nervous wreck since he had to separate from Yunho when the team ran over to hoist the batter on their shoulders, throwing him up in the air to celebrate their win. It’s been merely three hours since then, and Mingi nearly cheered out loud when Wooyoung knocked on his door, ready to go to the party as he was, obviously, San’s plus one.
They decided to walk since the frat house was just fifteen minutes away, and every particle in Mingi’s body was telling him to hurry up, to run if that would mean he got to see Yunho faster. But Mingi didn’t want to look like a crazed man; he had been desperate enough his whole life, and he didn’t want to explain to Wooyoung just yet. His discovery felt so fragile, so fresh, he wanted to savour having a soulmate first before he told the whole world.
But Wooyoung, the ever-observant best friend that he was, kept glancing at Mingi with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes sometimes straying to Mingi’s shadow as if he knew. The art major said nothing in hopes that Wooyoung wouldn’t either, but as the frat house came into sight, he felt Wooyoung grab his hand.
“Hey,” His best friend’s voice was gentle, “Is everything alright? You’ve been acting strange since the game.”
“Oh, I’m—” Mingi gulped, smiling at Wooyoung, “I’m fine. Very okay, actually. It’s all good, I just—I guess I’m just nervous about the party. I’ve never been to one before.”
“Right, I know. San told me Yunho invited you?” The raised eyebrow spoke volumes, but Mingi just gulped and averted his eyes before his expression could give away too much.
“Yeah, he…he was just happy, I guess. Spur of the moment, adrenaline, or whatever. People do crazy things when they are wired up.” Mingi’s excuse was lame, and he knew Wooyoung didn’t believe him. His best friend was smarter than that.
“Yunho inviting you as his plus one isn’t just some crazy thing.” Wooyoung chuckled, tugging on Mingi’s hand when he froze for a second, “You’ll tell me when you feel ready, right?”
Mingi gulped, his heart skipping a beat as he looked at Wooyoung with wide eyes. But his best friend was grinning knowingly, looking towards the large house as they walked up to it.
“Yeah, I will,” Mingi muttered as he gulped, grateful for his friend, for how well he knew Mingi, never pushing and prodding too much. But Mingi had about two seconds to gather himself before Wooyoung pushed the door open to the frat, which was not enough time for the art major to prepare himself to see Yunho again.
His heart was frantically racing in his chest, so much so that Mingi found himself rubbing his chest and gnawing on his bottom lip. The music was loud as the two friends pushed through the small crowd gathered at the entrance, eager to see Wooyoung. They already knew Mingi’s best friend, not him, though, which is why they frowned at Mingi, wondering who he was and who had invited him.
That shouldn’t have bothered Mingi – and under any other scenario, he really wouldn’t have cared – but he was so nervous that he felt like throwing up. His eyes searched the place, looking for one familiar tall baseball player, but Yunho seemed to be nowhere.
The crowd wasn’t as big as Mingi had imagined. It looked more like it was a gathering of friends of the baseball players, and Mingi thought he saw their coach in the kitchen, mixing a drink for himself before Wooyoung pulled him towards the back of the house.
The backyard seemed to be a whole different world, though, and Mingi’s eyes widened. The lighting was low as the fairy lights overhead could only do so much, and the smell of barbecue made Mingi frown as Wooyoung giggled at him.
The music was louder here too, with more people loitering around, strewn around a bonfire as well as the small DJ table at the back of the yard, near the fencing. A guy was grilling meat right next to the DJ, but the guy didn’t seem to mind as he was focused on throwing in a sick mix for the partygoers.
“Where’s San?” Mingi found himself asking, but the person he was truly looking for was Yunho.
“By the bonfire with Yunho,” Wooyoung answered with a giggle and tugged Mingi towards said bonfire.
Mingi’s stomach dropped at the mention of his soulmate, and his eyes widened a little as he looked towards the fire and the plastic chairs strewn around, looking for Yunho sitting in one of them. But he wasn’t. He was standing by San, nursing a bottle of beer in his hands, chatting to someone Mingi didn’t know.
He looked handsome in his light blue jeans and a black, form-fitting polo, the top buttons undone, showing off his collarbones. The sleeves were too long and came down to his knuckles, but Mingi had noticed the batter liked wearing the sleeves of his shirts like that. A few silver rings glinted from the overhead lights if they got caught in them, sitting pretty on Yunho’s long fingers.
His physique was to die for, and Mingi found it hard not to stare, that is, until Yunho frowned and looked over, his eyes slightly widening when he noticed Mingi and Wooyoung walking his way.
It's like the conversation he was having was forgotten as he stared at Mingi, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as Mingi flushed, looking at the ground as he was embarrassed for getting caught staring.
Wooyoung snickered next to Mingi, then released his hold on the art student’s hand so he could waltz over to San and sit in his lap. Mingi would have muttered something like you two are disgusting, but he found himself direly wanting to climb into Yunho’s lap at the moment, too.
“Hi,” He breathed out just as he came face to face with Yunho, trying to quieten his thoughts.
“Hi,” Yunho grinned, stepping just a bit closer as if he couldn’t bear the distance.
Mingi hummed, shy and flustered as he looked down at their feet. Their sneakers were touching, and Yunho’s fingers were twitching next to his body.
“Party’s good?” Mingi asked lamely, looking around so he didn’t stare at Yunho instead.
“Now that you’re here, yeah.” Yunho’s blatant reply made Mingi flush further, and he shot the batter a half-hearted glare that made Yunho chuckle, “Want a beer?”
Mingi shrugged but then nodded, hoping the alcohol would undo some of the knots he was feeling in his stomach.
He wanted to touch Yunho so badly, but he fought against his instincts and accepted the bottle of beer with a smile. He ignored how Yunho’s pinkie traced his own when he accepted the bottle, Yunho’s stare intense as Mingi cleared his throat and threw back some of the cold beer.
“What’s next now?” Mingi asked once he gulped down his drink, looking at Yunho but being unable to keep eye contact. The batter was staring at him so intently that Mingi found it impossible to look at him for too long.
“A big break, we deserve it.” Yunho answered, sighing a little, “And then, tryouts for the city’s major league. They want to sign me.”
Mingi’s eyes widened, his mouth closing and opening for a few seconds, “They—they do?! That’s—amazing, Yunho! You’ll be secure once uni is over, that’s great for you!”
“They got me a flat, too. San has been saying he wants to move in with Wooyoung, so it’s all good.” Yunho continued, sending Mingi’s heart into a frenzy when he felt fingers tracing the back of his hand. Mingi gulped, nodding as he took a swing of his beer, trying to stare at anything but Yunho’s lips, “You live in a studio flat, no?”
“Yeah. Alone.” Mingi hummed, feeling his brain mushy. It was usually him talking this much and Yunho listening, but it seemed like Mingi wasn’t capable of constructing long sentences anymore.
“How’s the rent? Expensive?” Yunho asked it with such casualness that Mingi didn’t even find his question weird.
“It’s doable,” Mingi answered with a shrug.
“Hmm. We could move in together once I sign the contract. You don’t have to pay rent, then.” Mingi’s eyes widened again as he stared at Yunho, slack-jawed, finding Yunho’s words just as shocking as outrageous.
Weren’t they moving too fast? But then again, Mingi wanted to spend every second by Yunho’s side from now on, too.
“I—Yunho. That’s moving too fast, don’t you think so?” Mingi’s voice was quiet as Yunho grinned. The batter stepped closer as he intertwined their fingers, his voice dropping lower.
“Definitely, but I want to spend all of my time with you from now on.” Mingi flushed as Yunho chuckled, licking his lips, “I’ve waited enough to find you, I’m not wasting any more time.”
“I don’t want to be apart from you either,” Mingi confessed, squeezing Yunho’s hand, “But it would be nice to get to know each other better first. Not all soulmates…work out…”
“I’ve liked you since before I knew you were my soulmate.” Yunho was sincere, his tone serious, “Would you like to go for a walk, Mingi?”
“I, uh,” Mingi frowned, trying not to get whisplash from all this new information being dropped on him in such a short amount of time, “Yeah, let’s go.”
Yunho grinned and grabbed Mingi’s beer bottle, handing it off to San and Wooyoung without looking over. Mingi stole a glance at his best friend and realised that Wooyoung had known all this time that the two were soulmates based on the shit-eating grin on his face. And Mingi couldn’t even be mad at his friend, because nobody was supposed to meddle in the process of finding one's soulmate. It had to happen at the right time for them, or else the Universe would find new ways to push back their meeting.
Mingi allowed Yunho to lead the way, tugging on their intertwined hands as they hurried through the backyard, then the house, breaking away from the party and leaving the frat behind. The street was quiet apart from the music thumping from the frat house, and Mingi fell into step with Yunho as he smiled at him, walking close until their shoulders brushed together.
Seeing Yunho like this was strange. Mingi would have never imagined the batter to be clingy, but he wasn’t about to complain. The art major was just too used to being alone, so having someone close like this would take some getting used to.
“I’ve been eyeing you since I moved in with Wooyoung,” Yunho spoke up, breaking the silence. Mingi’s eyebrows rose as he looked at Yunho, taken aback.
“You have? Definitely didn’t feel like it.” Mingi snickered as Yunho rolled his eyes, “You didn’t even greet me a few months ago, let alone look at me.”
“Well, I—” Yunho cleared his throat, looking almost embarrassed now, “You know I told you I tended to date around a lot in hopes of finding my soulmate. So when I saw you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away if I acknowledged you, especially if you turned out to be as nice and cute as you are. And then Wooyoung told me how iffy you were about dating anyone that wasn’t your soulmate, so I decided not even to try.”
Mingi huffed, shaking his head as he looked at Yunho, “You are an absolute loser, Yun.”
The batter grinned widely, “I know I am, but only for you, Min.”
And hearing that nickname shouldn’t have done anything to Mingi’s stomach, but the butterflies went rampant, forcing him to stop walking. Yunho did too and looked at Mingi with a raised brow, slightly confused, mostly intrigued.
Mingi gulped as he searched Yunho’s face for anything that told him the batter would absolutely hate it if Mingi were to kiss him right now, but as if Yunho read his mind, he cupped Mingi’s cheek with a sweet smile.
“I want you, if that’s what you are worried about. I always wanted you, even when I didn’t know it was you.” Yunho’s voice was sincere, his expression vulnerable as he leaned closer. Mingi gulped, his lips parting as he hummed, looking at Yunho’s pretty mouth.
“Mm, I appreciate your forwardness and you not being a prick for once.” Mingi teased, smiling as he closed his eyes and then closed the gap between their mouths.
Yunho’s lips felt like heaven against his. They were soft and warm, perhaps a bit chapped, but Mingi didn’t care as he kissed his soulmate, his thoughts going haywire as everything stopped existing around them. It was just him and Yunho, standing on a dimly lit residential street with the frat house party just a faint noise in the background, nobody and nothing to bother them.
Mingi had kissed people before, but it had never felt this right. Yunho’s lips seemed to fit against his as if they were designed to, and Mingi inhaled deeply as he pressed forward with more confidence, holding Yunho’s nape as the batter hummed against his lips appreciatively, rubbing Mingi’s cheek with his thumb and setting his skin on fire. It felt as if they were breathing one air, just theirs, sacred, their heartbeats aligning as Mingi’s finally slowed to an even rhythm, feeling happy, content, and at ease.
The palm pressed against his chest made the art major shudder as he kissed Yunho with more passion, probably inappropriate to do so in public, but there was no one around them, and even if there were, Mingi didn’t care. He’s waited twenty-four long years for this moment, and nobody could take it away from him anymore.
Mingi’s breath hitched when Yunho nibbled on his bottom lip, a little less careful than he had been a minute ago, as he captured Mingi’s lips with more conviction, kissing him senseless as fingers tangled in his hair and held him firmly. It felt surreal but exciting at the same time, and Mingi grinned despite himself as he pulled his head back with a chuckle, cupping Yunho’s cheeks.
The batter huffed, disgruntled that Mingi had pulled away so soon, and tried to chase after his lips again as Mingi giggled and turned his head away. Taking it as a challenge, Yunho reiterated by peppering Mingi’s whole face in chaste and wet kisses, making Mingi’s eyes crinkle from how hard he was smiling, “Is this a kiss attack?”
“It can be whatever you want it to be,” Yunho grumbled, angling Mingi’s head straight so their lips brushed together, “But you can’t deny me those lips until I’ve had enough of them.”
“I can’t believe you are grumpy because I pulled away.” Mingi laughed, resting his arms around Yunho’s shoulders as he leaned into him, “I need to catch my breath!”
“Fine,” Yunho huffed, but he was smiling too now, “I’ll give you ten minutes to catch your breath, handsome.”
“Why ten?” Mingi asked with a frown, feeling his heart jump again as Yunho grinned, biting his bottom lip.
“Because it takes us ten minutes to walk to Wooyoung’s and my place.” Mingi’s eyes narrowed as Yunho gave him a suave smile, “He’ll be at the party with San for a while. And nobody is really going to miss me if I don’t go back.”
“Are you proposing sex to me right now, Jeong Yunho?” Mingi raised his eyebrows, chuckling despite how shy he felt.
“Why, is it too soon, Song Mingi?” Yunho raised an eyebrow, rubbing his nose against Mingi’s.
“Yeah, very soon, but I don’t care.” Yunho’s grin screamed victory, and Mingi could do nothing but laugh, “What are you waiting for then?”
“To devour you whole.”
And oh boy, was Mingi in for wild times with his newfound soulmate, who remained the grumpiest but cutest person he had ever known. Mm, a lifetime by the successful batter’s side didn’t sound like a bad life at all.