Chapter Text
Lee Minho’s 10 Step Guide to Falling in Love
I’ve lost the guy and I don’t know why. What went wrong?
When I started writing this column, I wanted to commit certain silly dating faux-pas. I didn’t realize I was making the biggest mistake of all.
I lost the only guy I’ve ever really fallen for.
Monday - 9:15 am - Maxident Magazine Corporate Office
“Well… It’s not what I expected…” Nayeon hums.
Minho has laid his soul down on her desk, bare, for her to read. He finished the fucking article, he just finished it his own way.
“It’s better.” She raises her chin up from reading, grinning widely. “Congratulations, Minho, you’re ready to be unleashed!”
“I– really?” Minho stutters. This is not what he was expecting.
“You can write about anything, wherever the wind blows you!” Nayeon says, clapping her hands together.
“Politics?” Minho asks.
“Well… the wind’s not going to blow you there.” Nayeon pouts.
Minho grits his teeth. “Religion? Poverty? Social issues?”
Nayeon waves her hand around like she’s shoo-ing his words away. “Okay, when I said wind I really meant more of a draft . Shoes, bags, laser hair removal, use your imagination!”
“Thank you for this opportunity, Nayeon,” he says curtly, nodding once. “I quit.”
***
“Min, you’re doing the right thing, you deserve the best,” Hyunjin assures from where he’s standing at his kitchen counter mixing drinks.
As soon as Minho left Nayeon’s office, he felt mass relief. He’s been miserable writing his silly nonsense column for months, he just finally had the balls to cut himself loose. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying, though.
He went home with Hyunjin after work, the only one of the boys that was free, so they could wallow over their heartbreak to romcoms together. Yes, Hyunjin is still heartbroken.
There’s a knock at Hyunjin’s door.
“Ah, can you get that? It must be our food,” Hyunjin asks.
Minho huffs and forces himself off the couch, shuffling over to the front door, expecting a delivery man.
“Seungmin?!” Minho yelps.
On the other side of the door is not a delivery man, but one Kim Seungmin, holding a massive bouquet of flowers. Seungmin looks just as surprised as him. “Minho?”
A shriek sounds out behind him, growing louder by the moment, Hyunjin shoves Minho aggressively out of the way and slams the door in Seungmin’s face.
“Hyunjin, what the hell?!”
Hyunjin’s eyes curve up in a horrified expression. “What is he doing here!?” he hisses.
“That’s my question! How do you even know Seungmin?” Minho asks, blinking a few times. Oh. Oh shit. Seung. The guy Hyunjin has been crying all month over. “Oh my god , Jinnie, your man is Jisung’s Seungmin !?”
“Jisung’s Seungmin!” Hyunjin pouts. “He’s my Seungmin, I didn’t even know he knew Jisung.”
Minho laughs, he can’t help himself. It’s perfectly stupid for the fucked up month he’s had. “Well are you just going to leave him out there?” he asks, gesturing to the door.
“Why is he even here ?” Hyunjin looks highly distressed.
Minho sighs. “Jin, that seems like something you could figure out if you asked him.” He shoves his friend towards the door.
“Okay,” Hyunjin whimpers.
“You got this!” he cheers, moving back towards the couch to watch the scene unfold. So much for movie night, he’s got the real thing. Hey! It’s almost like Hyunjin is putting on a stage show for him right now. The theatre… he’s destined for it…
Hyunjin pulls open the door, slowly. “Seungmin… what are you doing here?”
“I don’t really know…” Seungmin mutters, glancing over at where Minho is sitting. “It’s kind of embarrassing that Minho has to watch this. He scares me.”
Minho barks out a laugh. “I can go lock myself in the bathroom, or something,” he says, amused.
Hyunjin turns his nose up, crossing his arms. “Whatever you have to say, Minho can hear it. Now talk,” he orders.
Seungmin looks over at him again, pained expression in his eyes. He starts fumbling through his speech, “I–I was laying in bed, trying to sleep last night, and you know… that perfume you sprayed on my pillow?” God damn it, Hyunjin, you fucking whack job. “Well, that smell is gone now… and I want it back…”
“Well I don’t know if you can have it back.” Hyunjin stands his ground.
“Right…” Seungmin squeaks.
“Yeah.”
“Ok, well, this is worse than I expected so I’ll just…” Seungmin juts a thumb over his shoulder.
“Wait!” Hyunjin breaks. It took longer than Minho expected, honestly. “I’m willing to consider it.”
Seungmin looks hopeful. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Hyunjin smiles prettily.
“These are for you, by the way,” Seungmin shoves the flowers into Hyunjin’s arms.
“Thank you…” Hyunjin peeks up at him, clearly lovestruck.
Seungmin takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Jin, I’m so sorry. It scared me, how sure you were about us. You’re quite literally the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and I was having such a hard time understanding why you would like me so much.” Seungmin is such a fool. He’s exactly Hyunjin’s type… boring, normal, smart…
“I’m boring and normal and average, Jin. I’m not used to people wanting me. Much less being sure about wanting me. I screwed up so badly, when I let you go. It was all my own insecurity, I just… I want another shot,” Seungmin finishes pathetically.
Hyunjin sniffles, wiping tears furiously out of his eyes. Minho loves that little drama queen. “You stupid, stupid man,” Hyunjin whines, grabbing Seungmin’s face and leaping into his arms, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. The flowers fall to the floor, forgotten, as they kiss passionately. Minho’s stomach turns at the sight, it’s so romantic and beautiful he could vomit.
“Maybe just no more calls from blocked numbers…” Seungmin mutters between kisses.
“Don’t worry, Minho taught me all about how not to lose a guy,” Hyunjin responds.
Minho sighs heavily, laying back on the couch.
The mention of his name must have reminded Seungmin that Minho was, in fact, still there. “Oops, sorry Minho, we’ll just…” He pulls them into the hallway, door shutting behind them.
He’s happy for Hyunjin, he really is. He likes Seungmin a lot.
He’s also very, very sad for himself.
Thursday - 9:15 am - 3Racha Studio
“Pleeeeeeaseeee open me, Jisung… please break my binding!”
Changbin is putting on a stupid voice, pretending to be , to actually speak for , the magazine he’s been shoving in Jisung’s face since Tuesday. He’s progressed to full on delusions.
“Jesus Christ,” Jisung complains, smacking the magazine out of his line of sight.
“Pleeeeeeaseeee!” Changbin howls, mimicking the sound of someone yelling as they fall off a cliff. Dumbass.
“Sung, he’s right, you really should read it,” Chan comments. Always the fucking logical one.
“No thanks,” he bites. “I’d rather not be reminded.”
Minho’s article got published on Tuesday, Seungmin bought a copy as soon as it was stocked in the newsstand outside. Apparently , Seungmin’s jilted lover is Minho’s friend, Hyunjin, and apparently , there’s something very important in the article that Jisung should see.
Too bad he’s a stubborn asshole.
The guys have been trying to get him to read it all week. He’s thrown at least ten copies of the magazine in the shredder. Seungmin is probably keeping Maxident in business the way he’s buying the things. They haven’t given him details about what’s inside, just that he needs to read it himself . Idiots.
Seungmin sighs, apparently finally tired enough of Jisung’s refusal to open the magazine that he takes it upon himself. “ I’ve lost the guy and I don’t know why. What went wrong? When I started writing this column, I wanted to commit certain silly dating faux-pas. I didn’t realize I was making the biggest mistake of all. I lost the only guy I’ve ever really fallen for .” Seungmin holds the magazine out, a knowing look on his face. “Jisung, trust me, at this moment, I’m being absolutely serious with you. Read. It.”
And Jisung does.
Thursday - 10:47 am - Maxident Magazine Corporate Office
Hyunjin is minding his business, painting his nails at his desk.
“Excuse me?”
Hyunjin whips his head around, he knows that voice. “Holy shit!” he yelps. Why the fuck is Han Jisung in his office.
“Where’s Minho?” Jisung says, frantic.
“He’s not here…” Hyunjin knows he’s being cagey, but this man did just break his best friend’s heart.
“Where is he?” Jisung repeats.
“He quit,” Hyunjin says simply.
Jeongin decides to ruin his fun, popping his head over the wall separating their desks. “He’s got an interview in the capitol.” Damn it, Jeongin.
“Shit,” Jisung curses. “When is he leaving?” He’s just speaking to Jeongin now, Hyunjin unsatisfying to him. Sigh!
“Like, now? He’s on his way to the airport.”
Jisung turns his eyes on Hyunjin, squinting accusingly. “You’re not a therapist, are you?”
“Oh…” Hyunjin chokes. “No.” He offers Jisung a pained smile in reconciliation.
“You owe me $300 dollars,” Jisung smirks, disappearing as fast as he came.
Aw man. So much for that Gucci ring he had his eye on.
Thursday - 11:11 am - Departures Terminal
Minho sighs, he’s next in line to hand his ticket and passport to the grumpy looking security officer at the airport checkpoint. He hates flying.
“Minho, wait!”
“Jisung?” he thinks out loud, cranking his neck to see the man in question running towards the front of the line, through the crowd.
“Don’t go,” Jisung pleads, now standing on the other side of the flimsy queue barrier from him. “We need to talk.”
The security guy looks pissed. “Get out of line or come through, man, there’s a shit ton of people here,” he grumbles.
Minho huffs in annoyance. Fucking Han Jisung coming to fuck his life up again. Stupid Jisung and his stupid pleading eyes that could make Minho lose his place in a line of a million people, if he only asked. He ducks under the rope, pulling Jisung to a quieter nook.
“What the hell is this, Jisung,” he demands. Angry. He’s angry, but most of all, he’s hurt.
“Is it true?” Jisung holds up a copy of the magazine. The one that his article is in.
“Jisung, please.” He refuses to make eye contact. Embarrassed. He confessed his love up down and sideways in that fucking article.
Jisung grabs his hand. “Is it true, Minho? Or are you just trying to sell magazines?”
Minho swallows. His mouth is dry. “I meant every word.”
“Then where the hell are you going?” Jisung breathes, squeezing his hand a little tighter.
“I have an interview. In the capitol. It’s the only place I can write what I want to.” He’s waffling. Trying to get Jisung to let him go. He wants to go lick his wounds in private, get over Jisung and never deal with the pain of falling in love again.
“I think you’re running away,” Jisung says.
Jisung knows him too well. He can read him like a book. Minho’s next words are just a lame attempt to self-sabotage, they sound fake coming out of his mouth, “Why don’t you save your mind games for your next bet, Jisung, I’m late.”
But he doesn't try to pull away. He doesn’t want to pull away. Jisung grounds him like an anchor. He doesn’t want to be without Jisung’s touch ever again.
“Bullshit,” Jisung says.
“Pardon?”
“I said, bullshit. Do not leave me like this, Minho. Not when I’m in love with you and I know you’re in love with me too.”
Minho’s heart stutters. Skips one, two, three beats. His butterflies are going mad.
He drops his shoulders, last of his reluctance waning. “What did you say?”
Jisung smiles at him, mischief in his eyes. “Bullshit?”
“No!” Minho whacks his shoulder playfully, unable to contain his own silly grin. He steps forward, right into Jisung’s space, whispers, “Say it again.”
“I’m in love with you, Lee Minho. Please. Don’t go.” There isn’t a hint of insincerity or uncertainty in his voice. Jisung loves him. Minho is on fire. He’s smiling so hard his cheeks push his eyes up.
“I’m in love with you too, jagi,” he admits, finally, out loud.
“I know. I’m very lovable. One time I even made a bet on it,” Jisung teases, an annoying smirk on his lips.
Minho reaches out and pinches him hard in the side.
“Ow!” Jisung whines.
“Han Jisung, can you shut up for once in your life and kiss me?”
They’re smiling when they meet, pieces fitting together exactly how they’re meant to. He will never get tired of this feeling, of Jisung holding him in his arms, stroking down his face, his chest, grabbing at his waist. And now, he doesn’t have to.
The kiss is soft, meaningful, filled with so much pent up love and longing that Minho might explode.
Minho thinks that if he were to look inside of his chest now, instead of those neat little boxes, all stacked and tied up, he would be flowering from the inside out. Absolutely overcome with the hugeness of all of these feelings. His feelings are big, they’re scary and unknown and all consuming, but that doesn’t make them bad.
Felix told him that. Smart kid.
When they break apart, highly aware that they are still in public, Jisung is gazing at him with all the fondness in the world, running a thumb over Minho’s cheekbone.
“Does this mean we can still go to that concert next month?” Minho asks, breathily.
Jisung grins. “Didn’t I tell you I’d take you anywhere?”