#xu minghao x reader angst

[honeyhuii]

Make My Heart Race

Sports Au, Nascar Au, Illegal Street racer Au, Journalist Au, Strangers to Lovers

Genre:Fluff, seriously don't know how i managed to not even add an ounce of angst

Pairing: NascarDriver!Xu Minghao x Journalist!Reader

Wordcount: 9.2k

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of food, illegal street racing, breaking the law, possibly wrong nascar termiology

Rating: PG-13 for swearing and breaking the law lmao

A/n: This is for the Sport Au Collab hosted by @gyukult! Thank you so much Gyu for letting me apart of this amazing collab. I made some wonderful friends and thank you to those who helped me figure out plot and which banner was better. You guys are the best! I also want to thank @sungbeam for helping me with the outline, without you I would seriously still be struggling where to go with this! I would also like to thank @heeracha for letting me use her all eyes on me line! I also hope you don't mind the awkward pov switches. I tried to space out the places when I would switch them. Also, some of the parts are purely self induldge and Hao is a bit oc...

Engines rev as they wait for the chequered flag to wave signalling the start of the race. Loud music blasted from the several cars, all of different types, but all doing the same thing…making the person behind the wheel hellbent on winning the race. One racer stood out amongst the crowd, She was notorious for winning and was one of the fastest racers Seoul has seen in years. She however, could care less about winning because she just wanted to feel the adrenaline course through her veins as she sped through the streets, she just happened to win every single time. This time was no different. She sped through the streets, turning tight corners, zooming past red lights. She just loves the thrill of racing.

You quickly looked over your outfit in the mirror in front of you, making sure it is deemed appropriate for a journalist interview. This was it. You were finally going to interview the people you’ve been dreaming of meeting. You gave yourself another look in the mirror before confidently nodding to yourself and grabbed your keys off the table, heading out the door with a confident walk.

Once you looked at the building in front of you, you felt your previous confidence leave your body. You’ve never felt so intimidated by a building before until now. But, you had to present yourself with confidence, so you took a deep breath and let your anxiety release as you breathed out. You let your false confidence return to you as you walked towards the arena with a notepad and pen in your hands. You flashed the security guards your press pass and walked through the doors. You  could hear the sounds of engines roaring as you walked to the pit stops in hopes of catching one of the racers . Cars would zoom past you and you could feel the gush of cold air fly past you just as the cars did.

 You let a grin take over my face as you spotted the very racer you were hoping to be able to interview. He was just getting out of his car as you made your way towards him, as his best friend sauntered over to him with a big grin stretched across his face. The very racer you were making your way over to, notices you walking towards him and cocks his head in confusion.

He watched as she made her way over to him. There was something fascinating about her, the way she carried herself. Full of confidence and intimidation, but the man did not feel an ounce of fear or nervousness as she continued to make her way towards him. No, instead it made him curious about her. He wanted to know…No, he needed to know more about her. He was compelled to walk over to her. To start a conversation, to talk to her. It was like he was under a spell or some magnetic force that pulled him towards her. He couldn’t even hear a word his best friend was saying. Not even when she was right in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. He only started to pay attention when she opened her mouth and started to talk to him.

“Hi! I’m Y/n, I work for the Daily Carat. I’m a journalist there and I was asked to come interview you and the upcoming Indy 500. Are you able to answer questions right now or do you need to get back to practising, I don’t mind coming back another time or scheduling an interview,” you say, trying to be confident with my words. 

“No worries, I’m available to talk now. Is it me you want to interview or Seungcheol,” Minghao asks with a slight smile on his face. 

“Well, both if you don’t mind. I originally came here to interview you, but I don’t mind interviewing The Quickest Lane Switcher either,” I smirk looking over at Seungcheol. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course you would call me that,” He rolls his eyes, but there’s mischievous glint in them.

“Do you two know each other,” Minghao asks, confusion written over his face. 

“Yeah, just a bit. I’ve run into him a few times,” I reply, “Anyways, let’s get on with the interview. You guys are probably very busy with the race only being next month.”

“Right, so what do you want to know,” Minghao sits on the hood of his car.

You pull out your notepad and look over the questions you had previously prepared beforehand. “Well, I want to know how you feel about being a third time winning racer going for his fourth win. It must be pressuring for you to have to live up to big expectations. Especially with everyone expecting you to win. How do you try to not let the pressure get to you and push forward?”

“Yeah, there is a lot of pressure with people trying to constantly expect me to win for the fourth time. I feel like I’d disappoint them if I didn’t strive to always win because it’s just expected of me. I try to not let it get to me and use it as motivation. I want to be able to surpass everyone’s expectations and go fast each time. I want to surprise people,” Minghao looked away from me, jaw clenched in frustration. Something must be bothering him.

You write down key notes about what Minghao has said and move onto the next question, ‘Seungcheol, what about you? I know you might not be going for your fourth win, but going for a third one is still a big deal. Is there a lot of pressure around it? Especially, since this time you have to go up against your best friend. Are you planning on taking it easy on him,” you let a teasing smirk play on your lips at the last comment.

“Haha very funny, you think you’re very funny because you beat me. Don’t get so cocky, I’ll win next time,” he rolls his eyes with a cocky smirk.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say. Now answer the questions Choi,” You rest your hands on your hips, fully confident in yourself. Your anxiety has completely left and you feel completely in my element.

“Fine, Lee. I would say there is and there isn’t a lot of pressure. I think I mostly put the pressure on myself because much like Minghao, I want to surpass people’s expectations of me. I don’t want to be seen as only one thing. I want to be able to surprise people with a variety of skills. And no, I’m not going to go easy on Minghao just because he’s my best friend.”

You continue asking them questions and they continue answering them, but every once in a while you couldn’t help but look over at the cars driving by. The way that they would speed past  you was thrilling. You couldn’t help but let a small grin take over your face whenever they would drive past.

Minghao noticed the way her eyes would gleam whenever they drove past them. He was growing even more curious about her. He wanted to know her secret. He wanted to know what she loved about racing and why she loved watching people race. He was also rather curious to know how she knew Seungcheol and what the hell they were talking about. He was so enthralled by her and the way she spoke that he failed to realise that the interview was over and that she was walking away from them now. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would see her ever again as he watched her figure leave the arena. Damn it, he should’ve asked for her number before she left.

Seungcheol whacks him on the back of the head, “Dude, you’re staring, she’s not coming back. Who knew Xu Minghao would be the type of guy who would fall in love at first sight.” 

“I’m not in love with her,” Minghao replies, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh yeah, definitely not. I’m also not an illegal street racer,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes at the obliviousness of his friend.

“Whatever, I’m just curious about her. I’ve never met anyone quite like her before.  I just…I don’t know how to explain it, but she has the magnetic aura about her that pulls me to her.”

“That’s the first step, then boom next thing you know you’re in love getting married and having kids and-”

“Choi Seungcheol.”

“Sorry man. I was just trying to make a point. But, speaking of Illegal street racing. There’s another race tonight. You should come with me. I’ll even drive you there,” Seungcheol says, hoping to convince Minghao to finally go.

“I don’t know Cheol. You know how I feel about those races. I’ll have to think about it.”

“C’mon man. It’ll be fun, I promise. How about this, if you don’t have fun or enjoy it, I’ll drive you home immediately no questions asked. I will never ask you to attend another race again.”

“Why do you want me to go to this race so bad?”

“Well, I’ll be racing in one of the events tonight plus I think it might surprise you about who else will be there tonight.”

“Who else?”

“Come and you’ll find out. Don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Fine. One race and that’s it.”

Evening finally rolled around and Minghao couldn’t believe how many people showed up to an illegal street race. He would think that there were famous people here with the amount of people that showed. Well, not counting himself and Cheol because they were technically celebrities. “Seungcheol, what’s up with all of these people? You would think it would be a bit more discreet…Is there some sort of celebrity coming to the race or something,” Minghao asks, eyes widening  as he sees even more people join the neverending crowd.

“Hush! Don’t call me that here, call me S.coups. People don’t know me as that here, can’t let them know I’m a famous racer, otherwise they would think that I’m cheating, they don’t take that shit lightly either,” Seungcheol, quickly hushes his friend.

“Alright, Alright. Calm down. You didn’t answer my question nor did you tell me that before we arrived here,” Minghao couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Seungcheol’s stupidity. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” He rubs the back of his neck, “Well, somewhat famous people. At least what we consider famous in the illegal street race community. First, there’s DK, but you know him as Seokmin, yes a lot of nascar racers do illegal street racing. Then there’s Woozi, he’s known for his speeding  tricks. He’ll speed up and pass someone just to slow down right when they are behind him. It pisses everyone off when he does it, but it’s a brilliant way to always stay in first. Lastly, the one even more famous than you and I, Zero Light. She always wins because no one seems to be able to beat her. She also happens to be DK’s sister so she grew up behind the wheel, racing is in her blood. It’s my dream to be able to go against her in a one on one and win. Ah, here she comes, that’s her car.” As Seungcheol was talking, a car sped down the street. It was jet black and had white racing stripes.It was the coolest car Minghao has ever seen, but the comment about Seungcheol wanting to win against her made him confused. Because Seungcheol was a literal nascar driver, she can’t possibly be that good, right?

Once everyone noticed the car, they surrounded the car, and started to whoop and holler. Two people got out of the car and because everyone was surrounding them, Minghao couldn’t make out their faces. But he could definitely feel the change in the atmosphere when they showed up. Before everything was chill and people were just vibing, but now people are buzzing with excitement. 

“Hey! Zero Light, over here! I have someone I want you to meet. Bring DK with you,” Seungcheol shouts, waving his arms hoping to get their attention, which it somehow does.

They start weaving their way through the crowd to him and Seungcheol. And Minghao couldn’t believe who was in front of his eyes, “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

Her lips curved up to a smirk and he swears he’s never seen anything more attractive than the confidence he could feel surrounding her, “Ah, Minghao! I see S.coups has finally convinced you to come to one of these. And please, refer to me as Zero Light. Can’t let anyone know my real name in case the cops catch someone from one of these races. We should give you a nickname in case too. Do you have a nickname someone calls you that you like?”

“Uhm…”

“How about The8, for his love of infinite speed,” Seungcheol pipes in, “Also, where’s Woozi? Isn’t he supposed to be racing tonight?”

“I think it’s perfect,” you say, “Yeah, he’s on his way. He said he should be here in a couple of minutes. We won’t start the race without him anyways. What’s a good race when Woozi isn’t there.” 

“I like it,” Minghao replies, a confident smirk on his pretty lips, “Whose Woozi? S.coups mentioned him before, and said he was some sort of illegal street racing celebrity.” 

“Cool. Woozi’s my best friend. Yeah, he’s well known amongst the community here in Seoul, not quite sure if he’s as well known outside of it as we mostly do our races here. Oh, right. This is my brother DK. You probably recognize him, but because of him I’ve been able to see every single race of yours. Gotta say, I’m quite the fan. S.coups also talks quite a bit about you and wanted you to come to one of these. Glad you finally decided to come.”

“Really? Every single one? And you talk about me, they better be good things or I’ll-”

“Haha. Don’t worry, he only says the best things. Well, maybe a few embarrassing stories here and there, but that’s what friends are for. They gotta embarrass you sometimes and you them otherwise, are you true friends?”

“I guess you do make a good point.”

“Oh, Zero Light. I wanted to ask you if we could hold a one vs one tomorrow night. I don’t think there’s any scheduled illegal races for next week,” Seungcheol asks, butting into the conversation.

“You really want to lose that bad, huh?”

“I don’t think I’ll lose. I am a nascar driver after all,” Seungcheol smirks, confidence blooming in his chest.

“Although that may be true, how many times have you lost to me? I mean the same goes for DK here. He’s my brother so he would hate to lose to me at something he does for his career,” you rest your hands on your hip, cocking your head with a mock.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. What do you say? You in?”

“Sure, why not. I could use a break from all the tough competitors,” you smirk as Seungcheol scowls.

“Oh fuck off will you. Anyways, I can’t wait to finally win against you and rub it in.”

“Confident are we? Speaking of racing, where the fuck is Woozi. He said he’d be here soon, we can’t wait all night for him.”

Soon enough another jet black car comes barrelling down the street and instead of white racing stripes, it has a single red stripe down the centre of the car. When everyone notices that car, they start shouting yet again and the already buzzing energy gets even higher as someone new makes their appearance. 

“Ah, Woozi’s here. Perfect timing as always,” you roll your eyes and look over at the car that’s currently parking.

“That’s Woozi? I’m not going to lie..I expected him to be a lot more-”

“Intimidating? Taller? He’s very intimidating when you first meet him, but once he warms up to you, he’ll be someone you never forget,” you say, looking over at the short male with a smile on his face as he greets others while he makes his way towards us. 

“Hey guys! Who's the newbie? I swear I’ve seen you before, are you a model or something,” Woozi asks, looking up at Minghao.

“That’s The8,” you lean closer to Jihoon’s ear, “His name is actually Minghao and he’s a nascar racer. He’s S.coups best friend and has raced against DK before.”

“Ohhhh. Wow, I’ve heard so much about you from Zero-” Woozi starts to say until I elbow him before he says too much.”

“That’s enough out of you. We’ve got a race to start now that your ass has finally arrived,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, it’s starting now? Good luck Zero Light! You too Woozi and S.coups,” Minghao says, smiling with sincerity. 

“Baby, I don’t need luck,” you wink and leave a flustered Minghao behind as you head back to your car.

“I do, thanks The8,” Woozi says, “Especially if I’m going up against her.”

Minghao couldn’t even respond to Woozi because he was so caught up in his thoughts of her. His heart sped up just like the very cars he was surrounded by. Maybe Seungcheol was right. Maybe he did fall in love at first. “Come on lover boy, quite staring at my sister. You’re not going to want to miss this,” He lets Dk pull him somewhere they can see the race and just ignores the comment he made because again, it might very well  be true.

Engines revved as they waited for the chequered flag to wave. Loud music blasted from all the cars, pumping up both the racers and the viewers. Minghao could hear Villain blasting from her car. He was excited to see how she would race. Since he’s never been to one of these, he’s not quite sure how  they work. But he’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to wait for everyone to speed off while you wait behind. Except that’s exactly what she did. She stood at the start line for five seconds before she finally sped off. 

You could feel the bass of the song thrum against you as it blasted through the speakers. You waited for about five seconds before you decided that it was long enough for everyone to get a good distance from the start line. You waited so that you could feel the real adrenaline race through your veins as you raced through the streets desperately trying to catch up. But for you, it was nothing.

You zipped through the streets, fast as the speed of sound. You could hear the tires screech against the asphalt every time you took a tight turn left. You drove up next to a jet black car with a red racing stripe and you knew exactly who you just caught up to.. you looked to your left and saw Jihoon flip you off and grinned from ear to ear. You could hear his laughter ring through my ears as you finally drove past him, making me come in first.

Watching her drive the way she did ignited something in Minghao, something he hasn’t felt in a while. He wanted…he craved to know what it felt like to drive the way she does. He wanted to be both the passenger and driver. He wanted to feel the thrill she felt. And he could tell she loved the adrenaline by how excited and how her smile beamed into the night as she celebrated her new victory. 

You climbed out of the car. A grin present on your lips as you bask in the glory of your win. Minghao pulled you into a tight hug, congratulating you on the win. Woozi even came over and joined the crowd  to congratulate you, though he did tease you and tried to say that you cheated. You could still feel the adrenaline pump through your veins. There was nothing more thrilling than racing down the street reaching new speeds. 

The glory and excitement was cut short as soon as you and everyone else heard sirens race through the streets desperate to find you and where everyone was hiding. Everyone quickly scrambled to get out of there before the cops showed up. Everyone was so panicked about getting caught that Seungcheol forgot to grab Minghao. DK and Woozi must've sped off together because they were nowhere to be found in the vicinity. 

Minghao still hadn't registered what was happening even when you pulled up next to him furiously trying to get him into the car. "Hao, fuck. Come on get in the fucking car, we don't have time for you to look like a cute lost puppy!"

"What? What's going on Y/n-" you didn't let him finish his sentence and opened the passenger side and yanked him in the car. You see flashing red and blue light's behind youand siren's blaring, "FUCK!"

You hurriedly shift your car into gear and speed down the street. Cops seemed to catch on that you were one of the racers and started to follow you, "Fuck, fuck. Okay, Hao...We are currently getting chased by cops, so I'm going to need you to duck down, so they don't see you. Can't have you going to jail."

Minghao listen's instantly and ducks down, hiding himself from the view of cops. You grip your steering wheel so tight that your knuckles start to turn white. You keep taking several left and right turns to throw the cops off your track but it doesn't last long enough. 

You quickly turn left into an alley. Fortunately, the cops were far enough back that they didn't seem to notice the sharp turn, so you quickly turned off the car and ducked down to remain hidden. You look over at Minghao to gauge his reaction. To your surprise, he looked like he was having the time of his life. He let out an elated laugh and you couldn’t help but start laughing alongside him.  “I think we’re safe now. I don’t hear the siren’s nor do I see flashing lights. I’ll take you home, where do you live,” you sat up in your seat and pulled out of the alley and drove Minghao home.

You walk up to Minghao and tap him on the shoulder, “Hey. My boss didn’t think we got enough questions yesterday, so I’m back again. Is Cheol not here today? Also, if you aren’t free right now, I can come back another time, schedule a lunch with you if need be.”

“No! No. It’s fine. I have time now. Yeah, Seungcheol is still a bit shaken up from last night, so he wants to take the day off from practising, especially since he has the race against you tonight,”Minghao sits on the hood of his car, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Ah, typical Cheol,” you reply playfully, “Anyways, some fans want to know how you got into racing in the first place. I’m not going to lie,  I’m also curious as to how you got into the whole nascar racing scene as well.”

“Well, Seungcheol would be the reason. He’s my best friend and he’s been doing illegal street racing since we were teenagers. I went only once to one of those and it was an amazing experience. I know I said I haven’t gone to one before, that is mostly true. I haven’t been to one since that one because after that I started to do more research about Nascar racing and just fell in love with everything. The way that there is no limit to how fast you can go. What about you?”

“Huh? What do you mean,” you look up from your notepad and give him a quizzical look. 

“What do you love about racing? Why don’t you become a Nascar racer instead of doing illegal ones?”

“Hey, I’m the one supposed to be asking the questions, not you. You can’t take my job like that,” you tease, trying to fight off the embarrassment.

“Awh, please? I won’t ask anymore questions. I’m just curious to know more about you,”Minghao takes his hands out of his pockets and folds them over his chest.

“I was just teasing you,” you sat next to him on the hood of his car. ”Jihoon actually got me into it. That’s Woozi’s real name, don’t tell him I told you,” you point your pen at him and he puts his hands up in surrender, “You would think it was my brother, but it wasn’t. He was a Nascar racer and sure that was cool too, but there were too many rules, plus tell me how many women Nascar drivers you see. But anyways, much like you. Jihoon was an illegal street racer as a teenager too and at first I was terrified of being at one of those races. Then he convinced me to and instead of being on the side lines, I was in the car with him. I got to feel the air whip through the car as we went faster and faster. I was so scared that we were going to  crash any time we took a tight corner. However, it was the most fun I’ve ever had and I just loved the rush of adrenaline.”

“Wow…that’s amazing,” he truly looked like he was in awe of what I told him. you felt extremely touched that he wanted to learn more about you. You also felt your heart pick up the pace.

“I guess..Anyways, are you ready for the Nascar race next month?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m excited,” Minghao lets out a breathy sigh and looks a bit dejected.

“Is everything okay? You can talk to me if something’s bothering you…”

“No, I’m fine! Don’t worry. Are you excited for the race against Seungcheol?”

“I mean, it’s Cheol. How excited can one be? I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you say when you notice the look he was giving me. “Yeah, I’m excited. I'd be even more excited if I were to know whether or not you would be making an appearance there.”

“Honestly? I love being a Nascar driver and being able to go fast. But when we were speeding away from the cops? What I felt then? That was something entirely different. The thrill and rush of getting caught was so exhilarating. I want to experience it again. Seungcheol didn't ask me to go, so I wouldn’t know where it was being held and-”

“I could take you,” you quickly chime in.

“You want to take me?”

“Yeah! It would be fun to have a passenger, someone that isn’t my brother or Jihoon,” I let out a chuckle, causing Minghao to smile.

“They, hell yeah!”

“Cool! What time should I pick you up?”

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me a time you think would be good.”  

Score! “Cool, I’ll text you then. I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tonight. Bye Hao!”

“Bye…” 

The ride to the new area, where the race will be held, was a silent one. Not an uncomfortable or suffocating silence, but rather one that you basked in. You felt so comfortable around Minghao and you’ve only known him for two days. It’s crazy to think about how you’ve gotten close over the span of 48 hours, but you guess if you are getting chased and fleeing from the cops, it does that. Not that I’m complaining. It was somewhat a magical night, one that you will commit to memory forever. You wonder if he would do the same. 

You pulled into the lot and everyone crowded around your car once they noticed you had arrived. You told Minghao to stay in the car until you gestured for him to get out. You spotted Seokmin, Jihoon, and Seungcheol walking towards your car, so you waved for Minghao to get out of the car. Everyone gasped in surprise when they saw Minghao get out of the car, you even noticed your friends making confused faces, but you ignored them.

“Hey S.coups. Ready to lose,” you ask, taunting him.

“I don’t think so. Tonight is the night I finally beat you,” Seungcheol smirks.

“You think? Want to put a bet on it?”

“Sure. Loser buys dinner?”

“How about dinner for the entire group, your friends and mine?”

“Deal. But before we start the race, I want to know why you guys arrived together?”

“Yeah, I’m also curious. Last I checked, you only ever brought us two,” Seokmin points to him and Jihoon, “Are you guys a thing?”

“What? No,” both Minghao and you shouted together, causing some onlookers to stare.

“Uhm no. I asked if Minghao was coming and he said that he wanted to but you didn’t invite him so I did. I took your personal cheerleader, jealous?”

“Well, I thought after last night he wouldn’t want to come to one of these things again. Or maybe he didn’t come to see me race, but rather someone else,” Seungcheol looks over at Minghao, hinting at something.

“Who? It’s only  us racing tonight,” you ask obliviously.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes at your response which confuses you more, “No one, no one. Speaking of races, Minghao, are you prepared for the race next month? I still feel like I haven’t gotten enough practise in and I’m doing these illegal street races. I can’t imagine what it would be like for you.”

“I’d rather not talk about it right now. You have a race to lose,” Minghao quips

Seungcheol looks absolutely baffled to the point where you want to take a picture to laugh at in the future, “Wow. I thought you were MY best friend…”

“I am. Also try not to get too angry when I sit with her in her car,” Minghao starts walking backwards towards my car.

“Wait, what? I thought you would’ve wanted to ride with Seungcheol,” you replied.

“And be on the losing team? Nah, plus after the experience from last night, I want to experience that again with you,” Minghao gives your a toothy smile, that just maybe, just maybe makes your heart flutter a little. 

“Suit yourself,” Seungcheol walks past my car to his, not before passing by Minghao whispering something in his ear. 

You could hear music blasting from Seungcheol’s car as he revved the engine. The grip on your steering wheel tightened. You could feel the adrenaline start its course through your veins. You took a deep breath in and let it consume you. You felt a hand on yours, took it off the steering wheel and intertwined it with another. You look over and see Minghao’s hand interlaced with yours. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you were about to question it, but Minghao squeezed your hand in reassurance. Silently, he was cheering you on. Your heart definitely did flips that time.  The chequered flag waved, but you were too caught up in Minghao to notice, that was until he released his hand from yours and pointed. Oh fuck…you were going to have a hard time explaining this one.

It took everything in Minghao to hold back his laughter. He didn’t want to throw her off her game. But as soon as she noticed she went flying down the road. Instinctively, he grabbed the handle and held onto it for dear life. He could tell that as soon as he did that, that Y/n was trying to hold back her giggles. As the car continues to pick up speed, Minghao starts to let loose a bit. He lets go of the handle and rolls down the window to truly feel air whip through his hair. He takes a deep breath in and truly tries to feel how she’s currently feeling. He pictures himself behind the wheel instead of her. He breathes in every sight, feels every turn, and can taste victory around the corner. Well, he could. That was until Seungcheol came speeding down the street, fast as lightning. Seungcheol quickly took the spot as first place. Minghao looked over at Y/n and noticed the panicked look on her face. This must not happen very often. Minghao did the first thing he could think of that would ground her. He put his hand on her arm, causing her to look over at him. Her eyes widen in surprise as she continues to look forward to the road ahead of her. She took one of her hands off the steering wheel and interlaced it with Minghao’s. He felt his heart speed up as the car began to speed up. They both secretly conveyed their thoughts and feelings to each other without murmuring a word. They could tell just by how someone would squeeze their hand. Minghao was cheering on and motivating her without having to say a word because all she had to do was look over at him and see the emotions in his eyes. 

To celebrate your win with Minghao, the both of you went to a fast food place to grab a bite to eat. “Hey,” you hear in a soft voice and look up from your burger to see Minghao staring at you with a curious gaze.  You blink in confusion. “Yeah? You need something?”

“I was wondering if you knew a place where we could chill out for a bit. I don’t really want to go home yet, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. I’ll take you there after we finish eating. Is that good with you? If not, I can bring our food with us.”

“I don’t mind waiting for you.”

You park the car on the grassy hill away from city life. You stepped out of the car and let the cold breeze fill your lungs as you breathed in the fresh air. Minghao also stepped out of the car and took in the surroundings around him. You could see a soft smile greet his lips., causing you to smile at his contentment. You sit on the hood of your car and put your hands behind your head as you lay down to look at the stars above. You feel the car shift in weight as Minghao lays next to you. You look over and see him already looking at you. You take one of your hands from underneath your head and innerlace them with his. At this point, when your hand isn’t in his, it feels strange. Like a sense of lostness. Your hand feels like it belongs in his. You feel at home when you're with him. you can’t help wondering if he feels the same as you do.

“Why didn’t you want to go home? Is there something bothering you,” your voice is soft and not above a whisper. You continue observing his face as he looks away from you and towards the city in front, oblivious to love blossoming in the air. 

Minghao lets out a deep sigh, “there’s a reason I didn’t really want to talk about the race. I’m not all that happy racing anymore. It’s kind of become a burden to me instead of a fun career. I don’t really feel the same passion and energy that I used to feel. I think it’s because people nowadays only care about winning and will do whatever it takes to win, even if that means cheating.  I’m actually thinking this will be my final season as a Nascar racer.”

You sat up in shock, “What? Really?”

He nods his head, “I haven’t made a final decision yet, but it’s something I’ve been thinking of. My passion for racing is dwindling everytime I go to the race track to practise for my upcoming race.” 

“What if I help you get your passion and love back for racing? I mean these past two days, I’ve seen you smiling and you look so light and free than I’ve seen you in your past races. What if I help you get your love back? You can maybe try illegal street racing and if you don’t want to physically be in the driver's seat, you can sit next to me. I really really want to help you. Maybe even use this as practice for the Indy race instead of actually practising. Get away from the race track and the rules for a bit.” 

 “Yeah…Okay. That sounds like a good idea. Let’s do it,” Minghao warmly smiles towards you and your stomach does somersaults. 

It’s been two weeks since you had that talk with Minghao. You’ve been going to illegal races almost every day, minus a few breaks here and there. But it’s sort of become a tradition that after every illegal race, you would go grab some greasy food and go up on the hill away from the city. Some of those nights were the best nights of your life. You would just sit and talk about anything and everything that came to mind. Those nights were your favourite because you get to listen to him talk about his life.  

Tonight was no different. You guys were chilling on the hood of your car staring at the stars talking about life. “Y/n,” he quietly speaks up.

“Yes Hao?”

“I think I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“I want to race in an illegal street race,” he looks over at you, eyes full of anxiety.

“Are you sure,” you ask and he nods his head, “Well, why don’t we make an announcement at tomorrow night’s race? Hell you can even race it! I’ll let you take my spot for tomorrow night’s race!” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to race one last race?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I mean I can always join you in the car if you are that worried I would get bored,”

“What? I wasn’t worried, I just didn’t want your fans to get mad that you aren’t racing.”

“I could use a break. They’ve seen me win enough times. So, don’t worry about them.”

The evening rolled in faster than you thought it would. You could feel the excitement and adrenaline radiating off of Minghao as he sat next to you on your way to the illegal street race. It was his debut night as an illegal street racer, so to see him not anxious in the least bit surprised you to an extent. He was a nascar racer after all, but you think he would be a little bit nervous about racing in an actual street race where he could potentially go to jail for. But no, you could see the confident smirk and glint in his eyes. 

You arrived at the parking lot where others were currently parked and waiting for you to arrive. The spectator’s and your friends surrounded your car as you parked, whooping and hollering as soon as they saw you exit, but their cheers grew when Minghao stepped out. Minghao walked over to your friend group while you thought now was a good time to announce Minghao’s debut because everyone was all fired up by his arrival. But first you had to get their attention.

“ALL EYES ON ME,” you shout, cupping your hands around your mouth to make your voice louder.

“ALL EYES ON YOU,” everyone shouts in return except there’s a faint voice yelling, “my eyes are always on you.” You could’ve swore it was Minghao saying that but why would he.

“Alright, now that I have everyone’s attention. I have a few announcements about tonight’s race. I know some of you might be a little disappointed with some of the news I’m going to share, but I don’t care,” you playfully tease, hands on your hips and a growing smirk on your lips.

 “The first announcement is that tonight, I am not racing.” You could hear a series of groans come out of people’s mouths. You also noticed Jihoon and Seokmin furrow their eyebrows in confusion, meanwhile Seungcheol is raising an eyebrow towards Minghao, but he chooses to ignore him. “I know, I know. You’re all mad and upset because you took the time out of your night to come and see me. I appreciate it, I really do, but I’m going to be taking a break from racing for a bit, Not for too long, but a small break, like around a week.”

If that didn’t confuse everyone then what you’re about to say is going to definitely elicit surprises and confusion. “Since I’m taking a small break, someone’s going to need to take my place for the race tonight. I want to introduce you to one of my good friends who will be taking my place tonight and for future races. I know you all have been quite curious about him, so why don’t I let him introduce himself? The8, come here please”

Everyone turned to look at the man you pointed to; and the previous disappointment everyone felt vanished, instantly replacing it with excitement. Cheers surrounded Minghao as he made his way towards you. He had a rather shocked face at all the cheers…it was really cute. 

“Hello everyone! I’m The8 and I’m taking Zero Light’s place for the time being. I hope you guys won’t be too upset about your future losses and your upcoming loss tonight,” Minghao says with a cocky smirk, firing up the crowd even more. 

“Alright, alright. That’s enough boasting, why don’t you actually show them what you’re capable of? Because you may be able to talk the talk but it doesn’t mean you’ll walk the walk. How about it ladies and gentlemen? Are you ready for the race to start,” you shout, screams encompass the parking lot, bouncing off the walls echoing through the small neighbourhood. 

Minghao grips the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He hasn’t felt the rush of adrenaline like this in a really long time. He’s been craving for another taste ever since he lost his love in racing. This. This feeling is what he’s missed for so long. He can’t even say he’s nervous because he’s not. Although he should be with you watching, however, it brings him a sense of comfort knowing that you’ll be watching him race. Watching him win. He let his confidence take the wheel and stepped on the gas as soon as the flag was waved.

Minghao sped down the streets as quickly as he could. Zooming through the streets, weaving through the cars, passing obvious stop signs, and doing his damned best to win. There was no way he was going to let someone show him up. Racing was in his blood after all. It’s what he lived for. It was what drove him to be the person who was. So there was no way he was going to lose.

Minghao had to do a double-take when he saw Jihoon sitting on the hood of his car, waiting for his fellow racers to show up. He didn’t even see Jihoon pass him. How the hell did he get there before him? Minghao storms out of the car, or correction, your car because you oh so graciously let him borrow it, but not without threatening him if he puts a scratch on your precious baby. He marches his way over to Jihoon, “Dude, when did you even get here? I never saw you pass me?”

Jihoon shrugs his shoulders, “maybe you just weren’t looking for me. Slipped right past you, near SVT Street.”

“That far?! Seriously, how did you do it? You have to teach me, but I still can’t believe I lost.”

“Well this is your first street race. You may be a Nascar racer, but you don’t know the streets like we do. We know what streets we can skip, plus we aren’t afraid to play dirty,” you walk up behind Minghao, “don’t be too sad that you lost. It was more than likely you were going to lose against Woozi.” 

“I could teach you a couple of tricks if you would like,” Jihoon suggests.

“Yeah, okay. Who knows, they might help me in Nascar racing too. It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Minghao tries not to pout, but couldn’t help it. He genuinely thought he would win. You walk up to him, and without thinking about it, you press your lips gently to his cheek, hoping that you will slightly cheer him up. When you pull your face away from his cheek, you find him staring at you, an unknown emotion swirling around his eyes. You’ve never noticed how his eyes are a vast ocean that will pull you under. It’s almost as if you could find all the answers to the world hidden inside.You would’ve stared longer, but you quickly moved away from Minghao as soon as you heard Jihoon clear his throat behind you. You spun on your heels and practically sprinted to your car. 

Jihoon looks over at Minghao to question him about what just happened, but he could tell the man was lost in thought, staring at your faded silhouette. Jihoon just shakes his head at the obliviousness between you two. “Dude, are you just going to stare at her longingly and let her keep waiting for you? Or are you going to follow her? Maybe ask her what the fuck just happened,” Jihoon says, mumbling the last part.

“What?” Minghao furrows his eyebrows and lets confusion fill his features. 

“She’s going to leave your sorry ass behind if you don’t hurry up and get it together.”

“Shit,” Minghao sprints after your car, waving his hands hoping to get your attention.

Jihoon sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “idiots to lovers I tell you. Oblivious idiots.” He rolls his eyes and sticks his hands into his pocket and jumps off the hood of his car to head home.

Jihoon has been training Minghao in the art of street racing, alongside you. He’s definitely changed since you first met him at the track. At first he was so reserved, reluctantly answering your questions, but now he can’t stop talking about himself. In a positive way, of course he always remembers to ask you questions in return. Usually, those questions are asked while the both of you are laying on the hood of your car, your head on his chest, and his arm lazily wrapped around your waist. Those nights were your favourite because it’s become some sort of tradition that the both of you would head there after one of Minghao’s street races, but not before grabbing some greasy food to eat while staring at the far city lights, surrounded by thousands of glittering stars. 

It was hard to believe that a month has passed since you struck up the deal together. You’ve noticed that not only is he not as reserved, but he’s gotten his spark back. You can see it in the way he smiles while his hands are on the steering, shifting gears, and zooming past cars. He’s finally found himself and his love of racing. However, there’s a few problems that you’ve come to realise. 

You realised that you were madly in love with Xu Minghao, especially the Minghao you only got to see. You couldn’t determine whether or not he felt the same, but he had to at least feel something during those nights when he would sing to you, gently kissing your forehead and stroking your cheek while you accidentally fell asleep on the hood of your car.

But the next problem you ran into was a major one. If you were to ever tell Minghao your feelings and he returned them, he would easily forget about you. Afterall, tonight is his final street race before he has the Indy 500 the next day. And once he’s done with the race, he’ll probably go back home, continuing his life as a Nascar racer. Meanwhile, you’ll be left alone in a giant city. 

“Hey Minghao! Are you ready for your final race tonight? Even if it’s up against me,” you smirk, walking up to Seokmin’s car. Seokmin let him borrow it for the night because he wasn’t going to use it, not if you, Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Minghao were all planning on racing. No, he valued his life much more than his car.

“Yeah, hope you’re ready to lose this time,” Minghao returns your smirk.

“Against you? Never. Remember who you’re talking to baby, I am Zero Light, the undefeated,” you lean in closer, breath tickling his ear.

“How about this, if I lose against you, I’ll tell you a secret,” he whispers, bringing his hand up to your face, resting his palm on your cheek, gently grazing it with his thumb.

“And if I lose? What will I have to do,” you ask, leaning into his touch.

“Nothing because that’s how confident I’ll win against you,” he pulls his hand away from your face, grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles. His smirk widens when he looks up and sees the light red hue spread across your face.

“I better get back to my…uh… car….the race will…um… be starting soon,” you back up away from the car accidentally bumping into a stranger, “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You keep apologising to the stranger, while Seokmin, Jihoon, and Seungcheol all collectively sigh watching both you and Minghao act stupid in front of each other.

You swung open your car door, stomping your way over to him. You swing his door open and yank him out of the car after he unfastens his seatbelt. You bring him into a bone-crushing hug and hold him tight. Tears well up in your eyes and you slightly pull away from him, “I can’t believe you.”

“Can’t believe what? That I won and that you lost,”  Minghao teases, looking deep into your eye, mapping every detail of your face.

“No. I can’t believe how far you’ve come during this month. I’m going to miss you when you leave to go home,” you wrap your arms around his neck, drawing his face closer to yours so that you can truly stare into his eyes forever.

“It wasn’t without yours and Jihoon’s help, thank you for everything. I’m…” you can see the hesitancy within his eyes. He wants to say something…he needs to tell you…

“Hao? What is it? You can tell me anything,” you take his face into your hands and gently brush your fingers against his cheek, much like you did before, he leans into your touch.

“I’m going to miss you too…I’m going to miss you more than you can imagine,” you can hear the sincerity in his voice and it takes every last bit of self-control in you to not smash your lips onto his, so all you could offer him was a comforting smile.

Minghao was anxious, you could tell even far up in the bleachers. You wanted to be in the pit with him, cheering for him, but you couldn’t. You were only allowed down there when they weren’t busy getting ready for a race, 1 minute left, you noted, and when it was appropriate for journalists and reporters to ask their questions. 

He was pacing back and forth. The anxiety chewed him up inside. He got so used to racing in the street races, that he seemed to forget some of the basic rules. He has to go over them before the race starts. What was it? What was the first rule? Shit…He can’t remember.  

Then his phone rings. He knew it was you. He could tell because he purposely picked out a ringtone for you, so that he always knew it was you calling him. “Y/n?”

“Hao…breathe for me. Just remember you’ve got this,” your voice soothes his growing anxiety.

“But what if I accidentally forget that this isn’t a street race and it’s an official one?”

“You won’t. Do you know how I know,” you see him shake his head from a distance, “Because on the track you are Xu Minghao, not The8. You are just yourself and not some persona you put on for others. Because if you lose, I won’t tell you a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Yeah, if you win…I’ll tell you one of my deepest secrets.”

As if a switch was flipped, in that very moment, you could feel the fiery energy radiate off his aura. Even though he was going up against his best friend and your brother, he had confidence in his ability to race. He knew he would win. He had to win. He’s never felt this desire to win this strong before. Not until you gave him a reason to want to win. When he races, he doesn’t care if he wins or loses, as long as he’s feeling the adrenaline pump through his veins he’s okay with losing. But now? You telling him one of your precious secrets? He has to win.

Lap after lap, it felt like the race was never going to end. You felt anxiety raise each time someone overtook Minghao’s first place, but he always seemed to be able to kick it into gear and steal his spot back. You were at the edge of your seat, hanging by a thread. Sometimes, it looked like Minghao wouldn’t even be able to take his spot back, but then suddenly he would use a move Jihoon taught him and it was like appeared out of thin air and was back in first place.Once the race was truly over, you were over the moon excited that Minghao was able to secure his fourth win. But more anxiety came once you realised you had to tell him your secret. 

“Hao! Congratulations! I’m so proud of you! After you're done taking pictures and celebrating, can we go to our spot?”

“Of course! I can’t wait to celebrate my win with you,” Minghao sends a wink your way.

“Do you remember what I said to you over the phone before the race started,” you ask, voice barely heard over the whisper of the lofi radio. The gentle glow cascades you both in a paint-like-lighting. Your question pulls Minghao out of his thoughts.

“How could I forget? It was my motivator…the reason I wanted to. It was the first time I ever really felt a desire to win that much,” Minghao looks over at you, but you are avoiding all eye contact with him, just staring out at the setting horizon in front of you, “what is it? The secret?”

“I don’t want you to leave and go back home. I want you to stay here with me…with all of us.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it happened, maybe when I was first introduced to you as a racer or maybe it was after I truly got to know you…” you finally gather the courage to look at Minghao, only to find him already staring at you. There that unknown emotion is again. It’s ever so present, swirling and mixing in his eyes.

You take his long silence as rejection and hop off the hood of the car, you can feel the tears well up and slowly slide down your face. You don’t know where you're walking to and frankly you don’t care, you just want to get as far as you can from MInghao. 

You feel gentle fingers grasp your wrist, you turn around to see Minghao crying. Why is he crying? You’re not sure, but you know that you’re crying along with him. “Y/n…you didn’t wait for my answer.”

“You took too long to answer, so I took it as a rejection.”

“Only an idiot would reject you and I am not one. But I am an idiot for not saying something sooner. I wanted to tell you that I loved you last night, but I just couldn’t form the proper words or sentences. I was also going to tell you that I was planning on staying…over the course of the month, Seoul has become my place because you are my home.” Tears start to slide down your face again after his heartfelt confession. He brings a comforting hand and lightly wipes your tear stained cheeks with his fingers…“Beautiful…as always,” slowly his face gets closer to yours. And as you stare into each other's souls, Minghao searches your eyes for any hesitancy and when he doesn't find any; he tilts your chin up, bringing your lips closer to his, finally letting them meld together like two puzzle pieces meant to find each other. 

Taglist for Seventeen: @mhyori1117

Networks: @the-k-neverland @cacaokpop-fics @timenote-library @k-radio

[toruro]

— ✧ flight of the stars

"It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake."

you go following flights to the stars, and these cars can get us home (zayn)

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff

description: being a doctor, you think you should feel guilty when you start to enjoy the presence of a “regular” a little too much, but who can blame you for missing your patient when he's xu minghao. you know—the xu minghao: crown jewel of SECTOR Racing, top pick of the season, and possibly the one person who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.

tags: character death (not reader / hao), discussion of medical issues, descriptions of pain, pining, racer minghao, physiotherapist reader, probably inaccurate representation of physiotherapy, also featuring kwannie, sollie, cheol, wonu, & hannie

w/c: 13.3k

fic playlist

a/n: oh. always thank u to @gyuswhore for helping me w this, and special smooches to han for going over this w me too ^^

smut tags. oral (m receiving), pet names (baby)

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Cheol is going to kill Minghao when he finds out he somehow managed to screw himself over while training. Well, only if Minghao doesn’t kill himself first.

It was just supposed to be a regular session, doing some standard neck exercises with Wonwoo, his training partner. General training shit—you know, the stuff Minghao needs to do so his neck doesn’t snap in half the next time he races and then—pang! Pain flares up in his muscles when Wonwoo adjusts the controls on the harness around Minghao’s head a little harder, the latter losing his form in a moment of unexpectancy.

His hand flies up immediately Wonwoo stops, shutting off the controls and loosening the tether attached to Minghao’s harness, releasing all the tension. “Are you good?” he asks, taking a step closer as he takes in the sight of the racer.

Wonwoo’s heart sinks into his chest when he finds Minghao’s head and neck unmoving, staring straight down as his breaths begin to grow shaky, and—crap, his eyes are glossy and—oh fuck, Wonwoo might just shit his pants.

“Hao—” Wonwoo calls out again, this time his voice drenched with worry as he reaches out to try and untie the harness from around his friends head, but as his hand brushes over the back of his neck, Minghao shifts a little and that’s when Wonwoo hears it—a sharp gasp following by Minghao muttering under his breath:

“G-get the medic.”

His voice is labored and Wonwoo knows exactly what to do and nothing at the same time. His mind is racing because holy crap, SECTOR probably just lost their best racer for a few months, if not the entire racing season, and it’s all because of this stupid neck training session, and—Wonwoo stops himself from thinking about what this means for Minghao’s work and forces himself to scramble back, running out of the training room and down to the nursing hall.

Five minutes and several phone calls later, Minghao is being loaded into a stretcher. He doesn’t say a word though, doesn’t know what to say.

Five hours and even more phone calls later, Minghao is sitting up with a brace around his neck, and his manager and friends around his hospital bed (Wonwoo and Hasnsol are to his left while Seungcheol stands on his right).

“So you’re telling me I won’t be able to compete for the rest of the season?” Minghao finally scoffs out after a couple minutes’ worth of silence in tense air.

“We don’t know that yet,” Cheol responds, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches the racer carefully. Minghao’s lips are curved down in a heavy frown but his eyes remain unwavering as he finally looks up at his manager.

“Fuck,” he breaths out.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Hansol asks worriedly, and Minghao knows that his friend is only just concerned for him but all the pain and frustration is already starting to bubble up inside of him.

“Like a bitch,” he mutters bitterly.

Seungcheol sighs deeply, stepping closer to the bed. He knows the situation isn’t easy for Minghao—it isn’t easy for anyone—and he’s aware of the stakes involved for the team. “Hao, you know we’ll do anything to get you back on the track as soon as possible.”

Minghao scoffs, not meeting the eyes of his manager. “Yeah. I know.”

Wonwoo nearly flinches at the stillness of his friend’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he finally says loudly, causing the other three in the room to look at him. “I messed up with the controls—it’s my fault, and I—”

“It’s fine,” Minghao huffs, tearing his eyes away from his friend. “It was an accident.”

It’s not fine. It’s not fucking fine at all and—

Deep breaths, Minghao reminds himself, but when he actually starts to think about the ache that blooms from his neck and down his spine, it gets harder and harder to keep his cool. He feels like he’s ‘bout to pop a vein from all the blood that’s rushing through his body, the only thing snapping him out of his trance being Wonwoo’s voice.

“You’ll start seeing a physiotherapist tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Best to start the recovery process early, Minghao thinks to himself, mildly calming his irritation. He purses his lips, trying to navigate the cluster of thoughts that plague his mind until he finally musters up the courage to ask, “How long is it gonna take? T-to heal?”

His friends look at him solemnly, and Minghao feels his heart sink right down to his stomach.

“We don’t know.”

“You already sa—” Minghao stops himself from saying something he might regret. “Could I actually be out the whole season?”

There’s silence until Cheol finally decides to speak up.

“There’s a chance.”

Minghao thinks he might scream.

“Hey Seungie!” you chirp, walking into the reception of your office with a bright smile. Your best friend greets you with only an eye roll as you approach his counter at the front, peeking at him from over his monitor.

“I told you to stop calling me that in public!” he whines, nose scrunched up as you laugh at the way he’s pouting.

“No one’s even here, no one’ll hear anything,” you try to reason as he huffs and turns away, refusing to look at you.

“Still!”

You sigh, putting down a brown bag on the floor before raising your hands up in surrender. “Okay fine, I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

This time, you roll your eyes. “Yes … Seungie—”

“I hate you!” Seungkwan roars as you double over laughing. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I’m officially disowning you as my best friend.”

You gasp, stepping back and picking up the brown bag again. “Are you kidding me? And here I thought I would’ve liked to share one of my Americanos with you but I guess not …” you sigh dramatically, starting to walk away as you lift the bag to wave it in Seungkwan’s face.

“I was just joking! Come back! How could I disown you as my best friend—c’mon, you know I was just joking,” he pleads from behind you.

You grin as you turn around and walk back to him with a grin. “You’re horribly unpersuasive. Like your acting skills are actually an abomination,” you tell him, pulling out one of the cups of the cold drink and handing it to Seungkwan. “You’re lucky I love you,” you continue, laughing a little as Seungkwan snatches the cup away hastily with a bashful “thanks” under his breath.

“Okay, well ditto to you too,” he barks back. “Who else would put up with you and your ugly crying over Taylor Swift music videos?”

“Hey! Wildest Dreams is a lyrical, musical, theatrical, melodcial masterpiece! ”

“Okay, first of all, melodical isn’t even a word, and even if it was—” Seungkwan is cut off by the ringing of the office phone line. “I probably need to answer this but we are not done with this conversation,” he shoots at you.

You giggle, waving him off and heading down one the hall to get to your office, barely catching what Seungkwan is saying, or who he’s even talking to. It vaguely crosses your mind that it’s a bit too early in the morning for your office to be getting work calls, but you brush it off as you slip past your door and into your little room.

It’s a nice little space you’ve made for yourself; your physiotherapy firm was set up a few years back, and you’d even recently gone through a certification process to belt yourself as one of SECTOR’s physiotherapists. Pretty exciting stuff when you think about it—being able to work with such top-notch racers (albeit under rather unfortunate circumstances), and you get to do what you love at the same time.

Now, you haven’t actually gotten any big-shot patients yet, and you’ve started to appreciate that more recently. It’s not as stressful, and you don’t have to navigate a possibly awkward doctor-patient relationship with someone who’s dealing with what might be a career-changing injury.

You wonder when you’ll stop forgetting that your luck ran out years ago.

Just as you set your bag down and slip into your chair to answer some emails, Seungkwan is knocking on your door and walking in. “Hey, uh, this is kinda important,” he tells you, pointing behind him at his desk where he was taking the call.

“What’s up?” you ask, slightly worried by Seungkwan’s quick change in demeanor from playful to serious.

“Some doctor at SECTOR’s facility just called and—” Crap, you know where this is going already. “—Xu Minghao just fucked up his neck. Like yesterday. And he’s getting discharged from the hospital in a few hours hopefully and they’re gonna send him over right away so you can take a look and start working with him.”

You press your lips together tightly, head going slightly dizzy at the mention of his name. Of course, when you finally got yourself licensed to practice under SECTOR, you were aware of the possibility of working with him, but this feels a little too real and a little too fast.

“You good?” Seungkwan asks, snapping you out of your haze. “Lost you for a second—it looks like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Sorry, just zoned out,” you laugh stiffly, turning on your computer and taking a shaky breath. “I’m a bit nervous I guess. I’ve never worked with a professional like him—at least not yet,” you continue to say, and it’s not entirely a lie.

You are nervous, and in any other situation you would try your best to just not think about the situation but given Xu Minghao is going to step into your office in a few hours, you figure you should get to work right away.

Seungkwan steps out soon, saying, “You got this. Seriously, you’ve been working so hard for so long and you finally get to work with one of the big shots!”

Chuckling at his optimism, you finally open the email application on your monitor. Your inbox is flooded with emails, most of which are a series of X-rays and MRI scans of your soon to be patient, and so taking a deep breath, you dive in.

“Hey Hannie, did you sanitize Room C?” you ask one of your (few) employees as he steps out from the supply room behind the reception.

“Shoot, was it supposed to be C? I’m sorry, I cleaned up B, but I can go to C and get it sanitized right now—” he starts to say, turning towards the supply room at the end of the hall.

“Hey wait no it’s okay, I just asked for C ‘cause it’s a bit bigger but it doesn't really matter. Don’t worry about it—have you had your lunch break yet?”

“Nah not yet, I was just about to step into that with Seungkwan, but he’s taken a moment to grab coffee from the cafe across the street.”

You chuckle, “Already? I got him an Americano only a few hours ago …”

Jeonghan laughs out loud at that, slipping off his cleaning gloves and patting his hands down on his scrubs. “You know how Seungkwan is with his Americanos.”

“Don’t remind me—he’s crazy. I don’t know how he ingests that much caffeine and still functions like a normal human being but—”

Seungkwan’s voice cuts you off. “I know you guys are talking about me but I’d suggest you take a break and go get ready because I swear I just saw a car with SECTOR’s logo on the back pull up onto the street right up front.”

Oh fuck. You’re already starting to feel awfully nervous.

“Shit, really? I didn’t think they’d be here as early as noon,” Jeonghan says quickly, tossing the gloves and turning to you for instruction. “Anything we need to do?”

“Guys, just chill,” you say casually. Ironic, you think to yourself, because you feel like your heart might pound right out of your chest any second now. “Just handle this like you would any other patient. I’ll probably have to talk to his manager, but while we’re doing that Jeonghan can take Xu into B and just ease him into things. Lay off the tension, you know? He’s probably stressed out as is.”

“Noted,” Jeonghan nods as he walks down the hall, and then you turn to the door of the reception where you see a group of three people walking up.

You try to make out their figures; that one on the left’s probably one of SECTOR’s health directors, and the one on the right is … that’s Choi Seungcheol isn’t it? The one who sent you the emails? He’s Xu Minghao’s manager, you’re pretty sure of it.

You straighten your back when the front door opens, clutching the clipboard full of prints of the scans you were sent earlier. Setting your eyes straight, you take a deep breath and finally take in the sight of the three people filling into the reception.

Yup, there’s Choi Seungcheol … and then Cho Miyeon following behind and she’s pushing a—shit, it’s Xu Minghao in all his glory.

Well, you’re not sure how wondrous he feels right now in that wheelchair, eyes cold as he stares at the floor. His neck’s held up in a thick brace that you can see reaches down under his shirt and over his shoulders; he doesn’t look up, and for a moment you’re grateful.

It puts off the question though, the words that linger in the back of your mind.

Will he recognize you? Well, more importantly …

Does he even remember you?

You rid yourself of the personal thoughts when Choi Seungcheol approaches you, holding out his hand to you. You shake it, strong and firm as he smiles awkwardly. “Nice to meet you, thanks for making time for us today.”

“No problem,” you reply with a nod as Jeonghan comes in from the hallway. “My assistant, Jeonghan here can take Mr. Xu to one of our rooms while I talk with you two about a few things. Does that work?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Seungcheol nods, motioning Jeonghan to Minghao in his wheelchair behind him. The racer keeps his head down as Jeonghan brushes over and starts pushing him down the hall to Room B. You wonder if he’s even noticed you.

As Jeonghan goes off, you turn back to the other two still in the reception and point at your room. “Shall we?”

Once the three of you settle down, Seungcheol and Miyeon sit across from you, the former speaks up. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice—this all happened really quick and if you can't already tell, we’re kind of desperate to get him back in the driver’s seat as soon as possible.”

“No worries, please. These kinds of situations are exactly what I’m here for,” you tell them, and they both seem to crack a small smile of relief. “Now I spoke with the doctor that examined him at the hospital, and then briefly with Ms. Cho,” you say, motioning towards the woman on your right, “And there’s a general understanding that Mr. Xu’s suffered a pretty serious strain in his neck muscles.”

“Yeah, uh—how long is this going to take to heal?” Seungcheol pops in, and you sigh.

“I can give you a range, but it’s not so definite … I’d say between three to five months,” you tell him. “But again, it’s different for every patient. Muscle strains aren’t like a clean break or fracture where we can determine almost exactly when it’ll be healed … this stuff is going to take more time and it varies from person to person as well. It all kind of depends on Mr. Xu’s body, and that’s what I’m here for—to help figure out what works for him.”

“We understand that, thank you,” Miyeon nods, sitting straighter in her seat. “How often should he be coming in?”

“Hm, I’ll give you a definite answer after checking in with him today, but to estimate, I’d say around 2-3 times a week, while also using my suggestions outside of our sessions.”

You finish the conversation with the two after that, excusing yourself as you let them back into the reception before knocking on the door to Room B. Jeonghan opens the door from the other side and quietly closes the door behind him before pushing you a little deeper into the hallway.

“He seems like, really sad, so—”

“Well, duh. It’s a serious injury,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jeonghan clicks his lips and nudges your shoulder.

“Whatever. I’m just telling you to tread carefully,” he says as you make your way to the door. You don’t respond to Jeonghan as you slip in. Minghao’s turned away from you as he sits on his wheelchair in the middle of the room you purse your lips before taking a deep breath and nodding.

You got this. Seungkwan was right—you’ve worked too hard for too long to be rendered anxious ‘cause of a silly little overlap of your past with your patient.

“Hi Mr. Xu,” you greet, making your way to the table right by where he sits, finally seeing him up close. He doesn’t look at you. “I’m pretty sure you already have heard enough about what’s wrong with your neck right now, so let’s talk about how we can make it better, yeah?”

You hear a gruff, “Sure,” escape his lips, and you figure that given his circumstances, it’s understandable.

“The report says that when you first started feeling the pain you couldn’t move your right arm even a little without it hurting in your neck, right?” you clarify as you sit at the chair between him and your table.

“Yeah.”

“Is it better now?”

“A little. Can move my forearm but moving my shoulder still hurts.”

“Okay, this is a good sign actually—you’re getting through the initial stages of healing just like normal. The first week or so of strain like yours might be pretty painful, but it’s over quickly and the pain after that should be pretty bearable, although it’ll take more time for it to heal.” You tell him, looking away to glance at the scans.

As he stares at the ground, Minghao wants to scream. Good sign? What the fuck are you talking about—he can’t even lift his goddamn arm without it feeling like there’s daggers plunging into his neck, and you’re here sitting all calm faced, pristine, acting like this isn’t his fuckin’ career on the line. Acting like your words are gonna make a difference as long as he’s in this stupid ass brace with this stupid ass injury in this stupid ass room with—who the fuck even are you?

His head hurts, and Minghao thinks it’s partly because of his neck, but it’s mostly because he can’t stop thinking. Thinking about the worst possibilities, thinking about everything that could go wrong and—well shit, he chides himself for letting his anger get the better of himself, even if it was just in his head.

Shamefully, he presses his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before finally lifting his gaze and turning to face you. When you look up from your paper and finally turn back to him, you’re met with the sight of pretty brown eyes staring right back at you.

“I—” Minghao starts, but it sounds like the air got stuck in his throat as he finally takes in your figure, and then he purses his lips together and turns back away. “Nothing.” the possibilities of what he could have been thinking ruins your mind just a little.

You can see it in his eyes—Minghao remembers. Still, he doesn’t say anything about it, and you wonder if you prefer things to stay that way.

“What time is Xu scheduled for on Wednesdays? He’ll be coming in on Wednesdays, right?” Jeonghan asks as he steps into your office.

“Uh, he’s coming in for a session from 11-2 today—which, by the way, could you set up Room C for that? I can’t remember if I already put that on the to-do list.”

“Yeah I did it yesterday after our last patient of the day, I was just wondering. You’re gonna lead it with him this time, right?”

“Yeah, since it’s the first session. You were right about him being … apprehensive—”

“Sad,” Jeonghan corrects you. “A sad, sad boy.”

“Yeah well, go figure,” you sigh out of sympathy. “Anyways, like I said, it’s understandable for him to be frustrated, so I’ll work with him at first to ease him into things and stuff. You can start taking over more of the sessions once he warms up to the whole process, and once we figure out and set a routine.”

“Okay great. Does this mean I can go out for my lunch break at 11:30?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply with a casual shrug as Jeonghan thanks you and slips away. You shift your attention back to your monitor before glancing through the initial medical reports you were sent by the hospital, and then the results of your own tests you ran during your first session with Xu Minghao.

It’s a shitty injury, you’ll have to admit. A neck strain on the muscles closest to his right shoulder, not only rendering his neck immobile for a period of time, but also hindering his abilities to move his right arm.

Must hurt like a bitch—physically and mentally—and the image of him staring down at the ground burns in the back of your mind.

With a sigh, you silently wonder if you could offer him the same solace he gave you.

Xu Minghao shows up to your office two hours later with Choi Seungcheol pushing him inside on his wheelchair, and you’re thankful to see that his stature looks much more relaxed than before. “I’ll come by at 2, right?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great. Thank you,” Jeonghan tells Mr. Choi with a smile before taking control of Minghao’s wheelchair and strolling him into the room. You’re already there and waiting for him, standing up to greet him with a smile.

“Hi Mr. Xu,” you say, thanking Jeonghan as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

“Morning,” he says quietly, not quite meeting your gaze. The air isn’t as thick as it was the first day, but there seems to be some invisible barrier between the two.

“How’s the pain right now, Mr. Xu?” you ask, pulling out a notepad on your computer to jot down some notes.

Your patient’s eyebrows furrow, and for a second you have a feeling this might be harder than you thought, but his next words are more comforting than anything. “Uh, can you just call me Minghao? Mr. Xu is … it’s weird.”

“Y-yeah of course, sorry about that, Minghao,” you nod with a half smile. “So could you tell me how things are feeling?”

“I guess it hurts less. I don’t really move that much so I can avoid hurting myself though—kinda in this thing most of the time anyways,” he replies gruffly, hitting the left side of the wheelchair with his palm.

“Do you stand up? Walk around at all?”

“Not often.”

“Okay so I think we’re going to try and change that soon,” you tell him. “We’ll do some mobility checks today but if it doesn’t hurt to move your shoulder a little, then I think it’s best you move as much as you can without pain. Honestly, you’re going to be injured for a while and—”

You pause when you hear Minghao inhale sharply at that, making a mental note to soften your words a little.

“—and we don’t want you to be immobile. If you can move, try to. We’ll try and get you out of the wheelchair within the next two weeks, how does that sound?”

Minghao’s ears perk up at that. “Two weeks? Only?”

You nod happily at his sudden energy and the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, you know the wheelchair is just so you don’t move your upper body too much but like I said the last time we met, the initial stages are pretty painful but once it’s over, you’ll be more mobile. Of course, you won’t be able to get back to racing and training right away, but you’ll be able to be a lot more active than you are now.”

“How long will it take before I can start training again?” Minghao asks curiously, finally looking you straight in the eye with parted lips.

The desperation is painful to watch.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, watching his shoulders deflate. “At least two months.”

“Two months?”

“At the least,” you say with a held breath.

“At the most?” Minghao asks hopefully.

You purse your lips. “At the most? … A year?”

“A year? That’s more than a whole racing season!”

“Yes but neck strains are fickle and we can’t let anything go wrong, and due to the nature of your sport, you really—”

“I think I know the nature of my own sport,” Minghao scoffs, and with the way he says it, you don’t know if you should be mad or sad or disappointed or a mix of all three.

“I—” you pause, “I understand your frustration Mr.—Minghao, but my job is to make sure you’re one hundred percent healed before you set foot on the track again, so please be patient and allow yourself to heal.”

Something about those last few words rings in Minghao’s ears, and he zones out for the rest of what you’re saying.

Allow yourself to heal. Fuck.

Minghao stays pretty much silent for the rest of the session, and you’re not quite sure if it’s out of complacency or indifference. You go through some slow mobility exercises, and figure out a good range for him to stay in for the next few days.

“Make sure you practice those movements every day,” you note once you near the end of today’s session. “I’ll send you an email listing all of them with instructions so you remember. Please try and do them every day, and it’ll hopefully speed up the recovery process.”

“Thanks,” Minghao murmurs as he carefully sits back down in his wheelchair.

“Is there anything else you’re doing in your free time right now?” you ask, trying to make casual conversation as you start to type up your list.

“Not really. I watch practice videos and stuff, I guess.”

You hum, not really responding until you finally finish the list and send it to his email. “I sent the list, you should start using it tomorrow. Anyways, I think you should try crocheting,” you tell him casually.

Minghao gives you a sideways glance as he raises an eyebrow. “… Crocheting?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug, finally turning around to face. “You know, with yarn and stuff.”

“I know what crocheting is.”

“I-I know,” you say awkwardly, slightly thrown off your game by his bluntness. “You won’t have to move your shoulders, only your forearms, so it’s fine.”

“But why?”

“It’s fun. And a nice way to pass time, especially when you can’t move around a lot. Plus, it’s always good to have something to distract yourself from—” You pause, thinking about how to finish your sentence. “—from shitty stuff, y’know?”

Minghao chuckles, and your heart swells a little when you finally see him break a smile. “Yeah, I guess.” There’s a long pause. “Shitty stuff, huh?”

You laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Shitty stuff.”

“You and your stupid Americanos,” you sigh, watching Seungwkan grin as the barista hands him his drink.

“Stop acting like you don’t indulge in me too. Getting me all those Americanos in the morning … I should blame you for this addiction!”

“So you admit it’s an addiction!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving your hands in the air. Seungkwan rolls his eyes, leaving you to sit at a table in one of the corners of the cafe. Laughing at his silent admission of defeat, you wait for your drink patiently.

It’s only a few more moments before the barista is back at the counter, calling out, “Honey lavender latte!” With a smile, you walk over, about to reach for the drink before a hand beats you to it.

Frowning, you look up at the man who’s holding your drink before you say, “Hey, I’m sorry, I think that’s my drink.”

“Uh, honey lavender latte? I’m pretty sure I ordered this,” he says. You look at him with a funny expression on your face, eyes darting between the drink you ordered and the drink that’s in his other hand. He catches your suspicion and shakes his head quickly. “It’s for my friend, I ordered for the both of us so I could get us a spot.”

“Oh,” you breath out, figuring that it probably isn’t a lie. “S-sorry for the misunderstanding. I just—” you chuckle, watching some of the tension from the man’s shoulders wither away. “I ordered the same thing—”

“Oh sorry, I—my friend isn’t here yet so you can just take this and I’ll wait for the other to come out,” he offers, watching your face, and you see something in his expression change. “Hey wait, you look really familiar,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows furrow as you silently thank him when he hands you the drink. “Uh, are you sure? I’m sorry, I just—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” you admit with an awkward chuckle.

The man shakes his head and laughs quietly to myself. “No, I swear I’ve seen you somewhere, but I’m just blanking on it right now—sorry this is probably so weird but—” The bell of the front door rings and he shoots his head to see who’s coming in, eyes lighting up. “Oh hey, Hao! Was just waiting for you!”

Hao? Mingh—

You lock eyes as soon as he walks in.

The man from before beams as he walks up to him as your eyes finally break away, and Minghao turns to his friend. “Hansol,” he greets with a small smile, and it’s a pleasant sight to see your patient—who’s more often monotone than not—seem a bit more at ease than before.

“How’re you doing? Was just waiting on your drink and—” the man—Hansol—points at you with eyes as wide as saucers, “—oh by the way, doesn’t she look really familiar?”

You chuckle nervously, breaking out an awkward smile and waving at Minghao who returns you by raising his left arm in a sort of half-wave before turning his attention to Hansol to give him a blank stare. “Yeah, she’s kinda like my physiotherapist dude.”

This time, you chuckle a bit more genuinely, eyes darting between the amused smirk that’s just barely there on Minghao’s lips, and Hansol’s agape stare.

“Ohh shit, yeah that’s where I saw you! Cheol and Miyeon were talking about you when they were booking you for Hao at the hospital, and I saw your picture on the screen,” Vernon explains as the realization hits him.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly. “That’s funny,” you reply as you turn your attention to Minghao, “Good to see you’re getting out of that wheelchair. I bet it feels nice to finally stretch your legs and stuff,” you say. If Minghao could move his neck without eruptions of pain, he’d nod his head.

For now though, he settles on smiling and saying, “Yeah, it’s refreshing.” His eyes wander around you, taking in how you aren’t dressed in your usual work attire, but rather clad in a cute outfit. “Is that my drink?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he points at the coffee you’ve just taken a sip of.

Hansol laughs and shakes his head. “You two got the same drink so when it came out, I just let ‘er have it, since you weren’t here yet.” He glances around before putting his drink down at a nearby table. “Shit, I think I left my laptop in my car,” he murmurs, looking at his friend. “I’m gonna go get it so I can show you those videos I was talking about.”

“Yeah, that’s chill,” Minghao agrees. Hansol smiles at you and then his friend before quickly retreating from the cafe to get to the parking lot, leaving you and the tall man standing in silence. It’s a few passing moments where you awkwardly sip on your drink before something pops in your mind.

“Hey, it’s actually really funny that you’re seeing me right now because—well it’s not funny funny, but it’s a nice coincidence so I guess that counts as funny but—anyways, look, I crocheted this cardigan.” You smile, lifting your arms a little so he can see the dark, navy blue fabric you made yourself, before turning around to show off the light blue, striped pattern on the back. “Cool, right?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty. Nice color scheme and all,” Minghao agrees.

“Thanks. Have you started crocheting? I can send you some videos to get you started,” you offer. Just as Minghao is about to reply, the barista from behind you calls out another order of your drink, causing both of you to glance back. “Oh, you wait there; I’ll get it,” you say, putting your drink down on the same table Hansol did before walking over to grab Minghao’s drink and hand it back to his left hand.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to,” he says as your fingers brush over each other before falling back to your side. “Isn’t your friend waiting for you?”

“Of course I have to. I’m your doctor! I can’t make you do that,” you reason before pointing back at your best friend. “And are you talking about Seungkwan? Looks like he’s having the time of his life doing—” You turn your head around to glance at him before looking back at Minghao, “—doing god knows what on his phone and—”

“Are you talking about me?” you hear Seungkwan’s voice calling from a few meters away, and the way you cringe has Minghao stifling a giggle. “All good things I hope!” he continues.

“You know it!” you shoot back sarcastically, only to be followed by Seungkwan’s rolling eyes. “That little shit. I pay his bills!” you exclaim, a faux frown making its way onto your face.

Minghao laughs, his head throwing back a little. The small movement flares up a bite of pain in his neck, causing his breath to get stuck in his throat, eyes widening as he slowly shifts back into a comfortable position.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly.

If Minghao could shrug without feeling like his neck would snap in half, he would. Instead, he raises his eyebrow playfully when he says, “Are you seriously apologizing for being funny?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m retracting my apology.”

It’s been around three weeks since you started working with Minghao. He’s warmed up to you a fair amount, and ever since you saw him at the cafe, the air around you two has been lighter.

It’s still a bit awkward at times—skitting around the moments where you wonder if you should say something about the elephant in the room before shaking your head and biting your tongue. Then again, given how often you see Minghao, you’ve gotten used to it.

Seungkwan stops by your office this morning when he walks into work. “Morning,” he greets, dropping a small brown bag by your desk as you file through some papers.

“Ooh, thank you,” you tell him gleefully, taking a break from your task to glance at the chocolate muffin that sits inside of the bag. “I’ve been craving this,” you admit, reaching in and picking out a small piece to stuff into your mouth.

“Your welcome,” Seungkwan sighs, sitting down on the seat in front of you. “Anyways, I found something cool that I don’t think you told me.”

You raise your eyebrows at him skeptically. “Yeah? What is it?”

“You and Xu Minghao are from the same hometown!”

You roll your eyes. “Why do you still keep calling him Xu Minghao? He’s told us to just say Minghao, and even if he didn’t, it’s awkward when you say his full name like that.”

Seungkwan scoffs at you, reaching his hand over to try and flick your forehead but you dodge. “Because he’s Xu Minghao. I can’t believe you aren’t still jumping up and down for getting to work with him, seeing how much you love SECTOR.”

“You want me to be happy that the best racer from my favorite team is injured?”

“Ugh, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever,” you shrug, a small hint of a smile peeking from your lips.

“Anyways, you didn’t answer what I actually said. Why didn’t you tell me you guys are from the same area? That’s so cool!”

“I mean I guess,” you say with a shrug.

“And you guys are the same age so—wait, did you go to school together? Oh my god, are you guys like—I don’t know, long lost best friends or something?” Seungkwan’s eyes widen. “Oh, that’d be so cool—I could totally see a movie on this and—wait! If he’s your long lost best friend, where does that leave me? You better not replace me with him!”

You laugh at the progression of his thoughts, almost choking on your second bite of the muffin. “We did go to school together,” you admit. “It’s not like we crossed paths though. He kinda just, I don’t know, existed back then. So no worries for you, you’re not getting replaced any time soon … unfortunately,” you add with mischievous giggle.

“Better not …” Seungkwan huffs.

Minghao comes in a few hours later for his afternoon session. Jeonghan works with him for the first two of the three hours, and you walk in for the last hour. You go over some more mobility exercises, before finally sitting down so you can discuss his progress.

“So things are going really well,” you start to tell him, beginning to list off a couple signs of development which stood out to you. You’re about to commend him on keeping up the exercises everyday, when you notice him staring at the floor with a blank expression. “H-hey, Minghao?” you ask, clearing your voice when he doesn’t respond. “Minghao.”

His eyes shoot up to yours, shoulders tensing for a second before he lets out a deep breath. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

You chuckle nervously, wondering if it’s okay if you probe just a little. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Minghao replies casually, but you catch the way he doesn’t meet your gaze. “Just thinking about last night’s race.”

“Oh, Singapore?”

“Yeah.”

“I was able to catch a bit of it last night, but I passed out. It seemed intense though—you see Kim’s pit stop?”

“Yeah, it was kinda insane,” Minghao says breathily. His expression is unreadable, but he’s continuing to respond and so you choose to let things go on naturally. “He’s been living up to his talent now that his shitbox is back to what it’s supposed to be.”

“Can’t imagine how frustrating it is.” Fuck, when Minghao’s shoulders drop, it feels like you said something you probably shouldn’t have.

I can imagine, Minghao thinks after hearing your response, but he bites back the words. “Yeah,” he says dejectedly instead.

Silence. This seems like a good chance to change the topic.

“Uh—” Sorry, you want to say, but you choose to hold your breath instead. “I have good news.”

“Oh?”

“We can get you out of the neck brace today,” you tell him happily.

Minghao’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yeah, your progress has been great. Didn’t want to tell you earlier to get your hopes up, in case something went wrong, but everything has been looking really good and you’re at the point where we usually take any supports like braces off.”

Minghao grins, and it’s a stark contrast from the grim shadow cast on his face just moments earlier. You take a few moments to go over the procedures with him, helping him out of the foamy, firm brace with gentle hands and watchful eyes.

“How’s it feeling?” you ask, setting the brace down by one of your counters so you can dispose of it later.

Minghao lets out a low groan of what you can only assume is relief when he looks up. “Like my skin can finally breathe,” he sighs heavily, a bright smile taking over his features as you turn to face him.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell him, before beginning a quick examination process of the area under the brace and going through some quick motions.

“All done?” he asks. When you nod, he continues. “Kinda early, huh?” he say pointendly, and you both quickly glance at the clock on the wall: his session is supposed to end in 43 minutes.

“Oh yeah, uh—actually … I was wondering if you wanted to try something?” you ask tentatively, and Minghao senses your hesitation. “If you have the time.”

Raising a brow, he nods. “Yeah I don’t mind, what is it?”

“One second,” you tell him, getting up and leaving the room to grab something from your office. Shyly, you walk back in and to your seat, all while holding up a brown bag. “Just some old crocheting supplies I thought you might like,” you murmur, placing it down on the counter.

Minghao presses his lips together tightly, not expecting your words. “Oh, uh—I haven’t really … I haven’t taken up crocheting yet. Sorry, uh—”

“Oh yeah,” you say quickly, holding a hand up, using the other to show him the contents of the bag. There’s some balls of yarn and hooks in a little mess, and you reach in to take some out. “I figured—it’s pretty intimidating to take up by yourself but,” you sigh. “I think it’ll be really nice for you. I recommend it to a lot of my patients who can’t do their regular activities and hobbies … and now given your brace is off, your vision will have more range and it might be really fun for you. No pressure if you don’t like it, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to show you the ropes,” you admit, holding up a ball of blue yarn.

Catching onto your pun, Minghao chuckles and replies, “Sure, why not.”

“Okay great,” you say excitedly, dropping the bag and pulling your chair up in front of him and next to the table, pulling the supplies out.

Minghao is patient as you show off the different yarns and hooks, explaining the very basics in great detail. You can’t quite tell if he’s being so obedient out of genuine interest, pity, or simply polite compliance, but for whatever reason, you’re thankful. Soon, you’re showing him how you do it yourself before handing him one of your spare hooks and the ball of yarn, letting Minghao test the waters for himself.

“Yeah, just do that and—wait,” you mutter, reaching over to adjust the way he’s holding the hook. Your soft fingers gingerly brush over his knuckles, and Minghao finds himself getting lost for a moment. As you innocently fix the position of his fingers, his stomach churns in a manner he can’t quite name. “You got that?” you ask him suddenly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, zoned out again. What was that?”

“Singapore really got you thinking, huh?” you muse before shaking your head and laughing it off.

“Sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about it. Here, I was just saying you should position your thumb like this or else you might start to cramp up really fast. Happens to me like crazy but I didn’t fix my habit and now I just gotta crochet through the pain.”

Minghao looks at you with an odd expression. “Crochet … through … the pain?”

“That sounded cooler in my head, my bad.”

Minghao laughs. It’s not a tight chuckle, or a soft giggle, it’s a laugh. And it’s bright and full and tugging at your heartstrings in a way you’d rather ignore. “It’s okay.”

“Anyways … here, I’ll show you how to start off with a slip knot and then we’ll take things from there,” you instruct.

Slowly, you walk him through the steps. You learn that Minghao is a good learner. He’s intuitive, but it’s not that you expect much different—you figure no one can get to the level he’s at without being quick to pick up on things.

You’re soon showing him how to start a simple chain, the yarn and hook still in his hands as you work him through the process. “Yeah, now you just gotta yarn over like this—no, the other way, just like that … and—yeah … yeah!” you exclaim excitedly when Minghao slips the hook right through, lengthening the chain. “You got it!”

“Really?” Minghao asks. “Simpler than I thought,” he admits aloud, and you nod vigorously.

“Yeah … crocheting looks hard from afar but once you actually get the hang of it, it’s as easy as breathing,” you explain, softly taking the yarn and hook from his hands and showing how it looks once you build in more loops.

He watches you carefully—the way your fingers so gently, with such precision; how your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as you focus in on the task at hand, tongue unconsciously sticking out from the corner of your mouth, and— 

“You’re really good at this,” Minghao murmurs quietly, and you swear he’s so close, his warm breath fans down on your cheeks. You gulp, pausing what you’re doing to look up at him.

“My mother taught me. It’s been a casual hobby ever since.”

You feel Minghao’s eyes bore down on yours intensely, wondering if he’ll respond. Something is screaming at you to pray he’ll keep his mouth shut.

Minghao doesn’t say a word, thankfully. Still, the possibilities of what could be running through his mind haunt you.

You think you should start feeling guilty. You think you should already be feeling guilty when you start to look forward to seeing Minghao. He’s your patient for fuck’s sake—you should be happy he’s not holed up in here everyday.

Still, there’s a weird feeling that festers in your chest when you think about him.

Minghao, and the way he’s so persistent, so patient, so attentive with all the exercises and information you tell him. Minghao, and the polite smile he throws your way at the beginning of each session. Minghao, and the way his eyes light up.

“We’re going to try some new mobility exercises today,” you tell him today with a grin, standing up from your seat. Minghao’s ears perk up as he catches the bright look on your face, and something inside of him swells with hope.

“Really?”

You smile and nod in return. “Yeah! I mean your recovery has been really great so far and I think this is a good point to move on and see if we can test out an even wider range of motion.” Minghao doesn’t really say anything in response, but the way his eyes light up when he watches you explain the exercises tells you enough.

In the hour that follows, you two walk through the exercises, trying out each one, and you’re almost three quarters through all the motions you planned today right before you show him how to angle his shoulder before a new exercise.

“How are things feeling? Anything hurting? Anywhere?” you ask anxiously as Minghao comes out of the last stretch you showed him with a pleasant look on his face.

“No, not like pain pain,” he says casually, leaning back into the chair. “Not the kinda pain from the strain, but I feel a bit of tension on my shoulder from keeping it in that position for too long.”

“Okay great,” you say, typing it down onto your digital notepad. “We’ll try and switch up that one next time so your body is completely relaxed from now on.”

“Thanks. What’s the next exercise?” Minghao asks curiously upon taking in the information. You vaguely think to yourself about how you enjoy his growing warmness—he’s been a lot more positive these past sessions with his rapid progress, and it’s bringing a much lighter atmosphere to Room C.

You explain the movement to him, explaining to him how to lift his shoulders just enough to circle them backwards without too much movement. It’s going pretty smoothly like the other exercises; you explain, Minghao listens, you adjust, Minghao lets you.

Right now you’re about to lean in, hands brushing over his shoulder blade to guide them to a more steep angle, explaining to Minghao how to fix his posture. Your fingers brush over his collarbone and jaw a few times in the process, your eyes keeping steady on making sure he doesn’t make any abrasive movements.

“There we go,” you tell him after showing him how to do the circular movement with his shoulders. “Why don’t you try it by yourself?”

Shooting you a thumbs up, Minghao complies, lifting his shoulder forward first slowly. He’s going through the motions of everything pretty normally—after all this is just like any other exercise so he doesn’t really worry that much until—fuck.

Holy shit, that quick but sharp pain stings so bad.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly when Minghao stills, his eyes widening.

So much. So fucking much, Minghao thinks to himself.

“Talk to me,” you say, moving closer to him so you can move your hands over his shoulder and lead them back down to a natural position.

“It h-hurt for a second. Really bad, but then it was gone,” Minghao says breathily. You purse your lips together and Minghao feels his heart sink to his chest when you turn around and type some stuff he can’t read from where he sits. “Is this like—” He needs to pause to collect himself so the nerves don’t get to him. “—is it bad?” When you hesitate to respond, Minghao already knows his answer. “Fuck.”

“Look, it’s just hurting in that spot for this exercise. The rest of your progress is amazing, but we’re just going to need to take it slower since you’ve probably just overexerted the muscle a little bit.”

“So I’ve been set back, basically,” Minghao says bluntly, his tone doing a full 180 from just a few moments earlier.

“Not a setback …” you sigh. “Just a sign that we need to go slower right now.” You watch him worriedly when he presses his lips together and doesn’t meet your gaze.

“So a setback.”

You gulp. “You can’t think of this like that. I told you from the start that progress is never linear and—”

“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” Minghao breaths out, and something about the way he says it with such a curt, tense tone almost makes you lose your composure. “This is—fuck, this my career okay? I can’t afford any setbacks.”

“I know that and that’s why I’m your doctor, okay?” you say, a bit more harshly than you intended.

You don’t understand why you’re letting his hostility get to your head all of sudden—it isn’t like you haven’t had frustrated patients before. Fuck, you’ve had people cry, sob, break down in this same room over slow progress but something about the way he looks so disheartened has your heart clenching.

“I’m here to help you,” you reiterate, your tone more composed than before. “But I can only do that if you let me.”

Minghao eyes flicker between your wide eyes and his hands in his lap. There’s a growing knot that ties in his throat, and he’s too afraid to open his mouth to speak, too afraid of what he might say. Instead, he just huffs and stands up.

“Sorry,” he finally musters up, eyes trained on the ground as you watch him carefully for his next move. “I’m leaving.”

You don’t stop him as he walks away.

When Minghao walks into the reception a few days later, he’s not surprised to see that you aren’t the one greeting him. He thinks back to the way your lips were pressed into a tight line when he walked out last week. It was the last time he’d seen you in the past few days, and some weird mix of worry swirls in his stomach.

Were you avoiding him? He wouldn’t blame you if you were, but he feels guilty for thinking that way. You wouldn’t let something personal get in the way of your work, Minghao knows that for sure.

Still, he bites his tongue when he briefly considers asking Jeonghan where you are. Would that be overstepping? It’s not like there haven’t been sessions where you weren’t there, but something about the thickness in the air around him tells Minghao that there’s something he should be worried about.

As if he could read Minghao’s mind, Jeonghan speaks up. “Doc’ll come in around the end. It’s her mom’s birthday so she’s out for most of the afternoon, but she’ll be back for the last half an hour,” he says casually, not really expecting to turn around to see Minghao looking at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“H-her—” Her mom? Minghao wants to ask but something stops him from saying it. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re not here. Something feels wrong. “That’s fine,” he mutters, pursing his lips before looking at the ground.

He can feel Jeonghan’s curious gaze burning into the back of his skull, but Minghao only doesn’t move as he keeps quiet. They soon fall into the regular pattern of starting off with mobility exercises before doing a check of his range of movement.

It’s nearing the final hour of his session when Jeonghan excuses himself for a moment. Only two minutes passes before there’s a knock at the door, and then some footsteps leading in.

“Good afternoon Minghao,” you greet softly upon walking in. The man glances up at you, eyes widening when he takes in your figure.

“Oh—uh, hey.”

Minghao wants to bash his head into the wall. Hey? Seriously? That’s all he could muster up? Hey?

“Jeonghan gave me the rundown,” you tell him, looking away as you lift a clipboard and squint to read the tiny text. “No more sharp pains … returning mobilily …”

You hum slowly as you read off the notes your assistant left for you, not meeting Minghao’s gaze. He wonders if that’s what you intended. “Seeing as things are going smoothly for now, we’ll continue with the low-risk exercises and—”

“I’m sorry,” Minghao blurts out. He wonders what compels him to do it, but when you finally meet his gaze, he realizes that he just wanted you to look at him.

“Mi—”

“I’m sorry for how I acted last time. I shouldn’t have said that stuff to you. I was frustrated and took it out on you, and that wasn’t okay. I’m sorry.”

Your lips are pursed by the time Minghao is finished. He’s said enough, but when he peers up at you, his eyes speak a story of their own.

“It’s okay,” you respond with no hesitation, before turning back to your clipboard, scanning over it a few more times and then setting it down.

You smooth your hands over your lab coat, and for a moment Minghao wonders what it would feel like to have your palms run down his neck, pressing into his skin so gently yet with such fervor, fingertips ghosting over—

Minghao shouldn’t think like this.

“Jeonghan told me that it’s your mom’s birthday,” he finally breaks the silence. It’s the first time either of you have actually brought it up, and the reality of it all—fuck, it’s hitting you so hard that there’s already tears pooling in yout lashline.

You silently curse yourself for forgetting to tell Jeonghan not to tell Minghao anything. It’s okay, it isn’t like he knew any better, you tell yourself as you blink rapidly, trying to shoo away the tears.

“Mhm,” you hum, hoping he doesn’t probe any deeper. You aren’t sure what you should say.

You’re silent, and Minghao itches to reach forward, to rest his hand on your shoulder, to smile at you, to say all the things he’s been thinking about you but he just can’t. All he can manage is to clear his throat, causing you to look up at him expectantly.

Fuck, what should he say? “I’m um—I’m glad. Glad that she’s uh—that everything worked out.” That’s fine, right? There’s nothing wrong with that statement, Minghao’s almost sure of it so … so why in the world are you crying?

Shoot, did he fuck up? You’re sitting in the chair right next to him, head in your hands as you cover your face and turn away; your cries are soft but just loud enough for Minghao to hear over the rush in his ears, just loud enough for him to feel the ache, just loud enough for him to get the message.

Oh.

The first time you meet Xu Minghao, you’re in middle school. Seventh grade and walking into Algebra, going to sit down on your regular seat. Five minutes into class and a new boy walks into the room, handing your teacher a slip before being directed to sit down at a spot a few tables over.

He’s got short, dark hair, cat-like eyes, and a bit of tall, lanky figure as he slinks down into the chair. Your teacher claps her hands together and announces that there’s a new student in class. His name’s “Xu Minghao,” she said.

You don’t really remember his name at first. It isn’t uncommon for there to be new students on campus. He’s not in many of your other classes you realize as the day goes on, and so he slips your mind. Maybe you work with him for a few assignments throughout the year, but not enough for you to wave at each other when you pass the other in the hallways.

Five years later and you’re in your final year of high school. Time has passed, you have changed, Xu Minghao has changed, but what remains the same is what you are to each other. Strangers.

You’re paired with a stranger for your final senior Literature project.

“Do you want to write a paper, or do the poster?” you ask as he sits down next to you once the pairing assignments. Your teacher had given you two options on how to go about the project. “I don’t really mind either or,” you admit.

Minghao hums, setting his copy of Macbeth on the table before turning to you. “Poster? I think I’ve done enough writing in this past year to last me a lifetime,” he tells you with an obvious sigh.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Were you in Biology?”

He nods. “Regretfully.”

“Oh so you also had to write that whole research paper. Damn, that thing had to have shaved at least ten years off my life.”

“Ditto,” Minghao grumbles, running his hands over his face. “Oh god, just thinking about it is making me queasy. I’m so happy we’re in our final semester.”

“So we agree on no paper, just the poster?” you finalize.

Minghao agrees, “Yeah, that’s great.”

One week later and Minghao is at your doorstep. “Cool set up,” he notes, stepping into your room, looking down at the poster splayed out with markers all over.

You grin. “Thanks—I kind of like being artsy and stuff sometimes so I was pretty happy to do this when you said you also wanted to do the poster.”

“Seems like I made a good choice then,” he replies, sitting down on the opposite end of the poster and pulling out a notebook and his book. “I did some work and got a bunch of lines that we could use as citations in different parts.”

“That’s great,” you say, picking a pen. “Let’s get started then?”

You two get straight to work, and all goes smoothly. Minghao is a good worker, you’ve noticed. His friends are quite fun—you’ve seen him with them in the hallways sometimes—but you start to realize that Minghao doesn’t let himself sacrifice his work ethic for fun.

You make quite some progress over the next hour or two, and you’re just about to bring up one of your ideas. “So over here, I was thinking we could write out the context of the play and then—” You’re cut off by the voice of your older brother at your door. He’s looking down at his phone with his lips pressed into a tight line as he speaks.

“Mom’s starting another cycle of chemo this Thursday so—oh, sorry,” Beomgyu says quickly upon looking up and seeing you have a visitor. “Come to my room when you’re done,” he mutters before turning on his heel.

The silence that envelopes your room is deafening.

You don’t say a word as you take a deep breath and pick up a different colored marker. You clear your throat. “So back to what I was saying …”

The next time you work on the poster, it’s at Minghao’s house.

You wear a blue gown at graduation. It’s a sunny day in June, and you’re sweating a little through the silk fabric, but it’s okay.

Your father and Beomgyu are there in the stands, but your eyes can’t help but be pulled to the empty seat next to them. Your mother said she’d try to make it, but broke the news last night that it was a dream too high up to reach.

It’s okay, you had told her, but as you clutch your diploma close to your heart, all you can think is, no it’s not, no it’s not, no it’s fucking not.

You sit through the rest of the ceremony with a silence and all around you, you see your peers’ smiling faces, the encouraging words of the dean, the cheers of the crowds, and somehow you feel so lost in it all. When you’re finally dismissed, everyone claps and revels once more, but somehow you can’t find the voice in your throat to join them.

Slipping through the crowds of people who line up to take pictures with their friends, family, and all the sort, you slip out of the small stadium and into some hallway.

“Fuck!” you finally cry out, raising your hand up and whipping it forward towards the brick wall. You wince, bracing yourself for the pain, but the sting never comes. Something warm envelopes your wrist, and when you finally blink your eyes open, you see a stranger.

“I don’t understand what you’re going through,” Minghao finally says. “I won’t pretend I do either, but it’ll be okay.” He hugs you and your face is pressed into Minghao’s own blue gown that is about to turn a few shades darker.

You cry. You cry harder than you think you’ve ever cried before.

You don’t know what it is about the way he speaks. Maybe it’s the way he holds you. Maybe it’s the way he smells. Maybe it’s everything, but whatever it is or isn’t, you don’t stop crying and for a gracing moment, you bask in catharsis.

And then, you hear Beomgyu’s voice calling for you from a nearby hallway, so you pull back. Minghao presses his lips together and lets you go, hands dropping to the side as you wipe away the tears. There’s a darker blue splotch in the middle of his chest, but he says nothing of it.

You don’t say a word as you step back—the only communication you share is a nod, but you swear on every last star in the sky that he has said more words to you in that moment than anyone has told you in your entire lifetime.

You don’t see Minghao’s face until it’s seven years later and he’s plastered on the screen as SECTOR’s newest recruit. He’s got phenomenal potential as an F1 racer—greatest new talent in a while—you hear the host of the channel say, but as you look at his picture on the screen, all you see is the face of a stranger who’s held you tighter than anyone before.

The last time you saw Minghao, it was through tear-blurred vision as you scurried out of Room C—you had to tell Jeonghan through broken sniffles to wrap up the session with Minghao—that the weight of the day had gotten to your head and that you needed to take a breather.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You retreated to your office soon after, staring at the photo of you and your mother that sat at the corner of your table, and then you cried a little more.

It’s the next day when you’re back in the office. Two patients had just finished up, and you’re sitting in your office, filing through some emails when you hear the familiar ringing of the front door opening. You furrow your eyebrows to yourself, not recalling having any other patients scheduled for at least another two hours.

Had Jeonghan and Seungkwan taken their break earlier than you thought? No, that can’t be possible because they always let you know when they’re heading out and—

“Doc!” you hear Seungkwan’s voice call out to you from down the hall. “Could you come here for a sec’?”

Frowning, you close your laptop and stand up, walking out the doorway and down the hallway towards the front entrance of the clinic. “What is i—oh.” The question dies on your tongue when you see Minghao standing in the reception.

Something in your stomach churns at the sight of him—eyes slightly blown out, lips parted but somehow curved downward in a way that has your own lips frowning. The events of the past few days crashes down on you, and you bite down on your bottom lips in hopes that it’ll ground you in reality.

Seungkwan stands behind the main desk, looking at you with some sort of awry expression, and you catch Jeonghan coming down from the other hallway to catch the odd situation. Minghao doesn’t seem to mind though, eyes zoning in on you.

“I need to talk to you,” he says. You feel Seungkwan and Jeonghan’s gazes burn into the back of your skull.

Glancing at them, you point to the door. “You guys can take your lunch break now,” you tell them before turning your attention to Minghao. “Let’s go to Room C?”

He follows you in an instant, slipping into the seat that he always does as you close the door behind you and walking up to stand in front of him.

You can hear the words already coming together on his tongue—I’m sorry—and so you open your mouth before Minghao can even say it.

“I’m sorry,” you say, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

“No, I—I shouldn’t have said anything. I had no idea you—” Minghao stops himself. He doesn’t know how much is too much.

It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he says. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since graduation.”

“Me too,” you respond in an instant. “I see so much of myself in you,” you tell him.

“Stop, I—our situations aren’t comparable and—”

“Let me be the judge of that, yeah?” you cut him off with a small smile and through tears, cupping his face. The skin over his cheek bones are soft when you run your thumbs over them. “When everything is going wrong and you’re so angry, and you’re blaming all the wrong people but you can’t help it, and it makes you feel worse and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.”

“Yeah.”

You inhale steadily, feeling hot water meet your hands and trickle down to your wrists. Minghao is crying, and suddenly you are hit with waves of deja vu. “I get it, okay?” you tell him, even though you know that Minghao already knows. You get it better than anyone. “It’ll be okay.”

The echo of his words from all those years ago crashes down on you, and suddenly Minghao pulls your arms down causing you to hunch over so your face is right in front of his.

“I’ve thought about you everyday since then.” The words come out of your mouth in a soft whisper. “Even when she passed away a few months later.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mutters, eyes closing and head titling forward so that your foreheads press against each other. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, stroking his cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry—you were right. Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“I—I’m sorry, I just—”

Something about the way Minghao says the word sorry not from his throat, but from his stomach, has your mind twisting in ways that you can’t comprehend. The sound is so guttural and heart-wrenching, and this time you want to cry because he’s got nothing to be sorry for. Not a thing.

And so you kiss him.

You kiss Minghao because he is no longer a stranger. Because he is crying for you and you might as well cry for him. Cry for him, but you have done enough crying to last you a lifetime and so you kiss him instead, because they speak the same words: I love you.

And his lips are soft, his tongue warm, his hand ghosting over your arm is gentle, and you can hear it. You hear it in the way he moves against you—he understands and you want to cry again because he’s always understood, and so you don’t cry but only kiss him deeper.

“I made you something,” he admits. “It’s in the car.”

You’re thankful you sent your two coworkers out when you did, sparring all four of you the awkwardness when you and Minghao slip out of Room C and out the clinic towards the parking lot and to his car.

He pulls a blanket out from the passenger seat. It’s hardly big enough to cover your lower half but it’s bright and blue and warm, and somehow you feel your eyes well up with tears that you can’t seem to stop this time.

“Did you—did you make this?” you choke out as Minghao stands in front of you, handing the cloth over as you run your palms over the loose threads and yarn that poke through.

“Crocheted it myself,” he tells you, standing from a couple inches above, as you marvel over his work. Minghao thinks he’s done a poor job—you could probably do better—but you clutch the blanket with such vigor that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you. “You’ve helped me so much,” he says instead.

“Fuck,” you mutter over harsh breaths. “Y-you made this.”

“You taught me,” he corrects, and that’s when the dam breaks.

And this time Minghao hugs you, and you can tell he’s being careful about his neck and in all your frenzy you almost want to push him away and say, “Don’t move so much!” but then his arms fold in on you like a blanket of their own and you crumble.

You crumble into happiness because through everything you’ve ever been through, Minghao still holds you tighter than one holds onto life itself.

“I don’t think I can come here on Sunday next week,” you tell your boyfriend as you peer down at your phone. You’re leaning over his kitchen counter going between looking at some emails and glancing at the screen.

Minghao groans, and you bite back a smile. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Yes I’m serious,” you huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “My brother’s visiting town for a bit.”

“And I can’t meet him, why?” Minghao asks with a raised brow.

You laugh. “Good point. I haven’t told him I’m dating yet though. Might be too big of a ball drop if I tell him I have a boyfriend right away. A boyfriend who’s SECTOR’s best racer, might I add,” you say, pouring yourself a glass of water from the fridge before joining Minghao on the couch.

“It would be a good surprise though, right?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah yeah, whatever floats your boat,” you shoot sarcastically. “But seriously. I’ll see if I can get you two to meet, but I really can’t see you on Sunday. I have to pick Beomgyu up from the airport.”

“Got it,” Minghao agrees, shuffling closer to you as you both focus on the TV. A live interview with Kim Mingyu plays on the screen, the young man talking about his recent rise in recognition. You two sit in silence for a couple of minutes before Minghao speaks up.

“I fucking hate not being able to do anything,” he groans, shifting onto your shoulder slightly. His condition’s gotten exponentially better in past couple of weeks, but you instructed for him to wait at least two more weeks before fully getting back to training.

He’s been restless ever since, you’ve started to notice. “Do I really need to wait?” he mutters, lips close to your ear as you cuddle into his embrace.

You pull back slightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yes! I told you—it’s a part of the process.”

“Fuck the process, I wanna drive again!”

“Too bad I guess,” you say with a shrug, turning your attention to the TV. The channel moves on from the interview to talk about some updates, and eventually somewhere in the mix, Minghao’s name comes up, and you hear the man next to you curse under his breath.

Chewing on your tongue, you debate for a few moments on what to do before reaching for the remote to shut the TV off.

“Hey! I was watching th—”

“Do you ever stop complaining?” you huff, stepping out of his embrace much to Minghao’s dismay. “Stop moving,” you order him, sliding down onto your knees in front of his legs.

“What are you do—oh.” You hear the words dry on his tongue when you nudge your body between his thighs, inching closer to his groin.

“You’re so restless,” you hum, trailing your fingers from his knees, over his thighs, and finally let the ghost over the growing tent under his sweatpants. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” you suggest, toying with the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“O-okay,” Minghao agrees, and you grin at the way you see his cheeks flush pink when you inch the fabric off of his pants. His cock springs out, hardening under your gaze as it slaps against his lower adobe that’s still covered by his shirt.

You think for a moment to help Minghao out of his shirt too, but with the pretty pearl of precum dribbling off his slit, veins pressing up all against the length of his cock—all of him aching just for you—you start to feel your mouth water, forgetting about anything that isn’t having Minghao’s cock in your mouth.

“Careful with the right arm, ‘kay?” you tell him, a sly smirk tugging at your lips when you bring them down, dragging them over the base of his length all the way up to the glossy tip where you place a wet kiss.

“Y-yeah—fuck baby,” Minghao grunts when you envelope your lips around his throbbing tip, tongue swirling over the slit at the top as you do so. His left arm makes its way into your hair, fingers digging into your scalp when you pull back to take a deep breath.

Saliva drips down the corner of your lips, and as you look up at Minghao with wide, glossy eyes, he thinks he might bust in on the spot. “Go on baby,” he murmurs, using his firm grip on your head to nudge your lips closer to his pink tip. “Put it in …” he instructs, and when you grin and open your lips wide once more, Minghao knows he’s too far gone to be saved.

“You’re so hard Hao,” you whisper against him, tongue tracing constellations over the base of his cock when you reach to cup his balls, massaging them under your palms.

“Fuck, just like that baby,” Minghao moans, and the sound is so guttural it has your own pussy clenching around nothing. Your skin burns when you take him into your mouth again, cock sliding further down your mouth than before.

He’s so thick, and you feel every last curve of his cock, every last vein, against your cheeks, pressing against your tongue—Minghao is all you can taste, and you might go drunk on the sensation alone.

And he isn’t faring quite well above you either—his hand in your hair has got a firm hold but if anything, Minghao is losing touch with reality. Your mouth is so soft and so warm, your tongue so meticulous with the way it’s swirling around his tip when you slip off his cock before pushing your mouth back down on him—he’s going fucking crazy.

“Baby—oh baby,” the words rumble at the base of his chest, egging you on. With every bob of your head, you start to take him down further until his fat tip is battering against the back of your throat and yeah, it’s got tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but he’s moaning and grunting and squirming all for you and you just can’t seem to fucking stop.

“Shit, shit, shit—baby, ‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warns when you deep throat all of him, your nose nearly pressing against his pelvis as you press your eyes tight and revel in the sound of his moans, the feeling of his hands in your hair.

You take his slice of warning as a token of advice, pulling back for only a breath before attempting to do the same thing again, shoving his cock into your mouth and down your throat, rubbing whatever you can’t with your palms as wetness smears all over your lips and cheeks.

“Oh—fuck, I’m—”

When Minghao cums, it’s with his chest singing your name. Breathy moans—calls for you—as you suck him through the high, hot white painting the inside of your cheeks and tongue. You pant heavily when you finally pull yourself off of him, swallowing all that is left of him in your mouth, and then he looks at you with flushed cheeks and you both grin.

And when you climb up, Minghao hugs you. He hugs you like a blanket—like the blanket he made you, the blanket you taught him to make—and you two bask in this moment because Minghao is no longer stranger, but he is here and he is in your arms and you are in is, and there isn’t any other place you’d rather be.

a/n: mika ramble time! whatever demonic sickness has been haunting me for the past 5 days will NOT get the best of me. i have been aching to get this fic out since like september and it was initially supposed to be posted on hubbie's bday but :/ unfortunately i was a bit late bc life gets in the way ;c overall i'm really happy w it! personally, i think this is among the most emotional fics i've written, and i am extremely proud of myself for some parts of this so !! yea !! if u enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it, pls feel free to leave comments / reblogs >_< they mean the world to me ^^

[yunjinified]

Minghao fic recs

✿=personal favourites

note: all of the fics i have recommended either have a female or gender neutral reader. this will constantly be updated.

terrified by @lovelyhan warnings and genre: smut, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, idolverse, established relationship, extremely slight angst. word count: N/A

✿rush hour by @lovelyhan warnings and genre: smut, enemies to lovers, dancer au, unresolved sexual tension, promiscuous behaviour in public. word count: 6700

golden hour by @synthetickitsune warnings and genre: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, blond minghao. word count: 1500

✿fixer upper by @seungkwansphd warnings and genre: smut, slow burn, affectionate member slander. word count: 9500

impatient by @ressonancee warnings and genre: friends with benefits, smut, humor, brat!reader, sub and dom undertones. word count: 3040

love bleeds lilac by @hoeforhao warnings and genre: non idol!minghao, fluff, slight mentions of mental health issues, angst but not angst, discovering self love, comfort. word count: N/A

10:52pm by @blue-jisungs warnings and genre: N/A word count: N/A

to love easily by @minghaoyoudoin warnings and genre: fake dating, smut, angst, fluff, non idol au, non idol!minghao, mentions of cheating and resulting in trauma, food consumption, kissing, dirty talk, pet name(darling), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex(m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, marking. word count:13 500

whisper game by @sunnylovespickles warnings and genre: smut, public sex, fingering, gagging, spit as lube, marking, horny minghao, pet names. word count: 960

smut prompt event(minghao) by @hoeforhao warnings and genre: smut word count: N/A

opposites attract by @rubyreduji warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, thigh high kink, creampie. word count: 1800

April 12th, 3:36pm by @gyupinkys warnings and genre: smut, mafia!minghao, yandere!reader, murder, gore, violence, guns, weapons, toxic relationship, manipulation, yandere, unprotected sex, public sex, sex with corpse in the room, scary dirty talk. word count:2700

idubilu by @toruro warnings and genre: smut, ceo!minghao, husband!minghao, fluff, oral(f receiving), pet names(princess, pretty). word count: 2800

(pretty) hungry by @icyminghao warnings and genre: fluff, drabble, established relationship, mentions of food. word count: 600

i don't understand (but i love you) by @icyminghao warnings and genre: fluff, some angst, comfort, established relationship. word count: 1500

4:18am by @number1mingyustan warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of sex, grinding, hands, pianist!minghao. word count: 2300

✿wrong turn by @meltwonu warnings and genre: vampire au, smut, dom!minghao, vampire!minghao, small about of blood play, dirty talk, degradation, fucking in public, overstimulation, squirting. word count: 3000

home yet? by @idyllicdeco warnings and genre: smut, subspace minghao. word count: 1700

22:34 by @toruro warnings and genre: smut, vibrators, pet names(pretty thing) word count: 610+

part 1:chérie by @venerex warnings and genre: duke!minghao, smut, oral(f receiving), fingering, virgin! reader. word count: 2500 part2:the poet by @venerex warnings and genre: smut, duke!minghao, fingering, virgin!reader. word count: 2300 Part3:mon amour by @venerex warnings and genre: duke!minghao, smut, fingering, intercouse, reader's first time, talks of having children, reader passes out. word count: 1900

blocked contacts by @jae-bummer warnings and genre: angst, fluff. word count: N/A

f* me, emo boy by @sunnylovespickles warnings and genre: rock guitarist!minghao, smut. word count: 1800

✿the letter by @toruro warnings and genre: jun's little sister!reader, slow burn, angst, fluff, childhood f2l, idol au, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, arguments, pent up emotions, miscommunication, hot headed reader. word count: 26 000 the letter(smut) by @toruro warnings and genre: smut, oral(f receiving, fluff. word count: 1300

✿red (k)nights by @toruro warnings and genre: knight!minghao, smut, fluff, royal au, princess!reader, secret relationship. word count:6700

oh my! by @toruro warnings and genre: smut, oral(m receiving), mutual pinig, fluff, mentioned past toxic/controlling relationships. word count: 13 600

dreamt of heaven by @jeonride warnings and genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, fiance!minghao, profanity, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, oral(f receiving), hand job, fingering, pet names(angel), praise. word count: 2400

✿felix felicis by @blue-jisungs warnings and genre: fluff, light angst, hurt and comfort, humour, slytherin!minghao, hufflepuff!reader, mentions of social anxiety, swearing. word count: 7000

✿now or never series by @heartkyeom series warnings and genre: strangers to lovers, ex!joshua, fake marriage, angst, fluff, mentions of food, big crowds, mentions of chronic illness, journalist!seokmin, food, smut, brief flashbacks, mentions of family planning, oral sex, descriptions of female anatomy, blowjobs, long car rides, cursing, dumbification, alcohol, fighting. word count: N/A, 5 chapters

[minghaoyoudoin]

to love easily

pairing: non-idol!minghao x fem!reader

genre: fake dating / angst / smut / non-idol au

words: 13.5k

rating: strictly 18+, stay safe out there 🫶

warnings: heavy mention of cheating and resulting trauma, fem reader, food consumption, kissing, dirty talk, pet name (darling), very explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), penetration (vaginal), some angst but more fluff, some marking, I'm sure there's more but you'll have to read to find out hehe

a/n: drum roll please.......... ta da! at long last, I've written for the namesake of this blog, the actual love of my life xu minghao! I hope y'all enjoy reading this one, it was such a joy to write and I'm excited to be able to share it with you! please like or reblog if you like it and thank you for reading!

synopsis: fake dating the beautiful stranger you met in the men’s room: what could go wrong?

~ DAY ONE ~

When you burst through the men’s bathroom door like a bat out of hell, you weren’t quite sure why you were surprised to find a boy on the other side.

Luckily, he wasn’t doing anything worthy of sprinting back out for. The boy stood at the row of old, slightly rusted sinks, the water running but not actually washing his hands. He had frozen the second the door opened, actually, which you figured was a pretty appropriate reaction.

And he was staring at you. Black hair hung into wide eyes, glasses you suspected he didn’t really need perched on the bridge of his nose.

Your chest heaved as you tried and failed to catch your breath. For all your many talents, running was not one of them. You offered a tired wave. “Sorry,” you panted, “I’ll just be a moment, promise.”

“What… are you doing.”

Phrased like a question, but not quite. You squinted at the boy as the automatic sink finally shut off, plunging the bathroom into silence. He straightened to his full height and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, appraising you warily. The boy knew how to dress, you’d give him that.

“Is there anyone else in here?” You demanded.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

The boy made a show of looking around, allowing his eyes to slide back to you after concluding the two of you were obviously alone. He shrugged. Not much for words, this one.

You finally managed to catch your breath enough to speak in coherent sentences. “Look, my ex-boyfriend is out there, okay?”

“Is that really a dire enough situation to warrant hiding in the men’s room?”

You scoffed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but his new girlfriend is with him. Who also happens to be my used-to-be-best-friend, okay? I’m not hiding, I’m saving everyone a headache.”

The boy grimaced. “Sounds messy. Well, good luck with that—”

“Do you have a name?” You interrupted. The boy levelled an impatient look at you over his fake glasses. When he said nothing you blurted your own name, at which his lips pressed into a hard line.

After what could have been hours of tense silence, the boy sighed. “Minghao. My friends call me Hao.”

“Nice to meet you, Hao.”

“You can call me Minghao.”

Despite his severe tone and the fact he definitely wasn’t joking, you laughed. You stuck out a hand for him to shake, more than pleased when he raised his own to meet yours halfway. He wore several delicate silver rings on his fingers, his skin slightly damp against yours from the sink. You took some solace in the knowledge he’d been able to finish washing his hands before you barged into the bathroom.

You froze, your hand still clasped in Minghao’s, at the sound of two horribly familiar voices on the other side of the door. The deeper of which was getting suspiciously close.

“Shit.” You moved before you could think better of it. You inadvertently dragged Minghao with you into the closest stall, managing to slam it shut and lock it mere seconds before the bathroom door opened.

“I’ll wait out here, okay?” Chaeyoung’s voice floated in from the hallway, as high and pretty-sounding as ever. Footsteps echoed as your ex-boyfriend crossed the tile floor to the urinals on the opposite wall.

You gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you not to listen to the sound of your ex-boyfriend’s piss. Minghao, looking hopelessly confused, opened his mouth to say something and glared down at you when you immediately covered his lips with your hand.

Don’t even think about it, you shouted with your eyes.

Minghao cocked an eyebrow, something akin to mischief shining in his eyes. Oh, I’m definitely thinking about it now.

To your despair, Minghao cleared his throat. Even through the barrier of your hand the sound echoed, and you scowled at the floor as your ex finished his business and washed his hands. It was good that he did, you thought. You hadn’t been convinced he was a dedicated hand-washer before.

You didn’t release the painful breath in your lungs until the bathroom door clicked shut behind him. Minghao immediately shook off your hand over his mouth and massaged his jaw, gazing down at you with mild dislike.

“I implied you were dramatic before, but I was wrong. That was dramatic.”

You rolled your eyes and unlocked the stall, marching out into open floorspace. Minghao followed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

You ran your hands over your face, now attempting to catch your breath for an entirely different reason than before. That was a close call, too close, and you were certain you’d never be able to live it down if you were caught in the boy’s bathroom with a total stranger.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line.” You glanced up at Minghao for all of one second before your embarrassment got the better of you and you looked down again. “I don’t even know why I dragged you in there with me, you would’ve been fine out here.”

He looked you up and down, allowing the silence to drag on for long enough that your skin prickled with unease. You took the opportunity to appraise him, as well. You’d be damned if you let some random college guy in a bathroom make you feel small.

Minghao’s hair, you realized now, was cut into a tasteful mullet. He wore some variation of streetwear, though you recognized the logos of a luxury brand or two as you examined him. Was he rich or just really into fashion? Maybe both, though you suspected it was more of the latter.

“Your boyfriend is Joshua Hong?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected sourly. “But yeah. We dated for two years before I caught those two in bed together.”

Minghao didn’t react, which you weren’t sure how to feel about. He didn’t seem to pity you, at least. You were so sick of people pitying you. “I have a proposition for you,” he said neutrally.

“No, I won’t have sex with you.” You answered immediately.

Minghao smiled humorlessly. “If we have sex, darling, I won’t be the one asking for it.” He ignored your scowl and continued calmly, “I think I have an idea that can fix your problem.”

You tried to let it go, you really did, but curiosity swiftly got the better of you. With an aggrieved sigh, you motioned impatiently for him to go on.

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me just fine. I don’t mean actually, of course, but no one else needs to know that. There’s nothing to make the ex jealous like dating someone new.” He spoke like it was the most normal thing in the word. Like the prospect of fake-dating someone was completely logical.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, completely unable to form words. “We go to a big university but it’s not that big,” you choked out. “Some people are bound to remember you and I have never spoken before today.”

“So? People form new, spontaneous relationships every day.”

That was true enough. You eyed him warily, trying to find any hints of ulterior motives in his cool exterior. Unfortunately, Minghao didn’t waver an inch. He stared back at you with an expectant smile, obviously anticipating you to agree, and it was around this time that you realized he was intimidatingly handsome.

“Why? What’s in this for you?” You asked.

He waved a dismissive hand between you. “It doesn’t matter. Just know this is a mutually-beneficial agreement. Think about it, you know I’m right.”

You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to kiss him for his great idea or punch him because he’d thought of it before you.

“For how long?” You asked. With every passing second you came closer to folding.

Minghao considered for a moment, staring at a point somewhere over your head. “Six weeks. That’s a month-and-a-half—if Joshua isn’t begging to have you back by then it means he probably won’t.”

Ouch. He was right, you figured. You did want Joshua to beg for you back, but you had absolutely zero intention of actually saying yes to him if he did. His and Chaeyoung’s actions had cut far too deep to heal back to the way it was before. There was a jagged, metaphorical scar that would probably give you grief until the day you died.

Without another word or attempt to convince yourself otherwise, you stuck your hand out in front of you again. Minghao’s eyes fell to it. They widened slightly, your only indication that at least some part of him had doubted that you would say yes.

“You’ve got a deal, Minghao. The arrangement will last six weeks—no more, no less.”

Minghao smiled down at you, the sight only confirming your suspicion that he was very handsome. His long, delicate fingers grasped yours, gentler this time than when you’d shook his hand to introduce yourself.

“Six weeks,” he agreed. “No less.”

You took a deep, steadying breath. What the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

~ DAY EIGHT ~

“Why are you making me go to a football game, again?”

“Because I’m president of the photography club and I have to be there. If we’re dating that means you do, too.”

“But Joshua’s on the football team,” you lamented.

“Even better. Who knows, maybe I’ll get a candid shot of him eating his heart out.”

Despite yourself, you grinned. You figured out more every day that Minghao was genuinely funny when he wanted to be.

It had been a little over a week since the incident in the bathroom. As you’d mentioned in passing, the university you went to was big, but Minghao somehow managed to find you wherever you were.

The day after the restroom debacle, you’d been eating lunch by yourself in a dining hall close to your apartment. It was a struggle not to mope, most days, especially when this dining hall was one you used to frequent with Joshua. Your ex-boyfriend himself had strode into the building right as you took a massive bite of your soggy sandwich, Chaeyoung perched on his arm. It was moments like those that really made you consider arson, but your urge to light things on fire dissipated the moment Minghao plopped into the booth at your side.

He'd offered you a lazy grin and slung his arm over your shoulders before you could protest. Don’t freak out, his eyes told you. The arrangement, remember?

It had taken every ounce of strength in your body to heed his silent warning. Rather than let your surprise show, you’d offered him a wide smile and leaned further into his side. Foolishly you’d planted a sloppy kiss on the edge of his jaw—that was something couples did in public, right?—and immediately flushed with embarrassment.

It worked, though. The one time you dared to look, Joshua kept glancing over at you, mingled confusion and worry lighting his face.

It continued like that for the next week. Minghao made you give him your phone number and text him your class schedule, which he exchanged for his. He showed up to your classes anytime he could, waiting outside in the hall so he could walk you to your next one. He began eating lunch with you in the same dining hall as the first time and put extra effort into his boyfriend façade when Joshua was around.

Outside of that, though, you tended not to speak to one another. He didn’t text, so you didn’t bother to either. He hadn’t yet asked you on a date off-campus, something which simultaneously relieved and disappointed you. You knew you’d have to, eventually, and going to the football game with him seemed like a good way to dip your toe in the water.

Minghao waved his hand in front of your face, forcing you back to the present. “Well? Are you coming with me or not? You can’t deny this is a perfect opportunity for operation jealousy.”

You sighed, but it was mainly for dramatic effect. You both knew you would say yes, especially when things like this were the whole point of your fake relationship, anyway. “Yeah, I’ll come with. Don’t expect me to start making out with you every time they score a touchdown, though.”

The smile Minghao gave you was downright diabolical. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-----

For all your protesting, the football game was actually kind of fun. Really fun. On a good day you didn’t know the first thing about football, so you tended to watch games based on vibes alone. Today, your university was leading 4-0 and Joshua was playing poorly, hopelessly distracted by the way you hung off Minghao’s arm on the edge of the field. The vibes were immaculate.

Minghao shifted so he stood behind you, looping his camera strap over your head so you could hold the camera while keeping your back pressed to his front. Your mind hyper-focused on the way his chest brushed your shoulders on every inhale. He was blissfully warm, especially when contrasted with the brisk November air around you.

“I already adjusted the settings for you. All you have to do is point and shoot.”

You lifted the camera so you could squint through the viewfinder. “Point and shoot. Got it.”

Minghao made it look way easier than it really was. He’d taken you to the photo lab a few days ago so you could talk through the details of your arrangement, speaking lowly under red light while his pictures developed. Every photo you took turned out just blurry enough that it was unusable, save for one or two shots of the crowd.

He didn’t seem to mind. At some points he rested his chin on top of your head while the two of you flipped through pictures you’d taken. At others his hands drifted up your forearms to your wrists, his fingertips raising goosebumps across your skin. He was good, you had to give him that. If you weren’t careful, you would start to believe his act.

The crowd went wild at something you didn’t see. You raised the camera like it was a gun, searching wildly for what had caused the ruckus. “What happened? What did I miss?”

Minghao chuckled in your ear. “Joshua just got the ball thirty yards closer to the endzone in one play. It’s impressive.”

You scowled, unconvinced. “Yeah, well I’d like to see him not cheat on one of his girlfriends. That I’d be impressed with.”

Minghao laughed again. You pointedly ignored the swell of warmth in your chest at the sound. He raised the camera until the strap lifted over your head, freeing you once again. You stepped away from him, more for your sanity than anything else, and rolled your tense shoulders.

“How many innings are left?” You asked. He just stared at you, his eyebrows raised so high they disappeared behind his hair. “Close your mouth, you’re going to catch flies.”

Without a word, Minghao raised the camera and snapped a picture of you. You narrowed your eyes, confused. He tugged on the end of one of your braids. “There aren’t innings in football, darling. You’re thinking of baseball.”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks. “Damn. I promise I’m not stupid, I’m just not much of a sports girl. Not these types of sports, anyway.”

Minghao nodded knowingly. “At least you’re pretty.” Did he really mean it or was he just teasing you? Usually that phrase was meant to be mean-spirited, but you could never really tell with him. “What sports are you referring to?”

“Hockey, mainly. But competitive swimming was always my favorite sport in the summer Olympics, so.”

He gave you a strange look like he was trying to hold in a laugh. “Weirdly enough, that makes sense for you.”

“Yeah, well.” You gestured to the field in front of you, scanning the players for the dreaded #05. You found Joshua just in time to watch him blow a kiss to Chaeyoung on the other side of the field, her cheerleading outfit glittering under the stadium lights. You exhaled heavily through your nose. They were perfect together. Straight out of some college romcom—you never stood a chance.

Minghao noticed what had drawn your attention. He took another photo of you staring across the field and approached to stand at your side again. “Her hair looks hideous.”

“No it doesn’t.”

He tugged on one of your braids again. “No. It doesn’t,” he conceded. “I’m trying to help you feel better.”

You appreciated it, you really did. Appreciated him. This past week had been the best you’d had since Joshua cheated on you, something you didn’t realize until this moment. For several seconds, you just stared at him. Minghao stared back, his expression unreadable. He’d lost the fake glasses—blue light glasses, he’d corrected—for the game tonight, his eyes a warm brown without them.

Before you could respond, the crowd erupted into screams. You whipped around to face the field, your eyes straining to find what was happening in the cacophony of male bodies.

There. Joshua had the ball. And he was running—sprinting for the endzone twenty yards away. Despite yourself, despite your anger and hurt with him, your heart squeezed painfully. Your blood sang, urging him to run faster. You might have yelled it, doing some sort of awkward side-trot along the field with him. Minghao did the same, obviously as invested in the score as you were. He kept his camera raised as he did, continuously snapping pictures of the action.

Several members of the other team closed in on him, but Joshua only pushed himself faster. He narrowly dodged the two men that attempted to tackle him and, in a display of athleticism that stunned you, dove across the line into the endzone.

The noise that followed was deafening. You jumped and screamed along with the crowd, just for a moment forgetting about everything weighing on your mind. Minghao’s long arms encircled your waist and he lifted you off the ground so he could spin in a wide circle with you. You laughed so hard your cheeks hurt, joy bubbling in your chest.

The crowd was still shouting when Minghao finally set you back on your feet. You kept your arms around his shoulders. He made no move to release your waist, either, grinning down at you the same way you beamed up at him.

Later, you would blame it on the heat of the moment. The stadium’s screams, the fact Joshua had just scored what would likely be the winning touchdown, the blinding lights—yes, it had to be that. Regardless, you looked into the stars in Minghao’s eyes and pressed your lips to his without thinking.

The kiss was barely more than a second. You shocked yourself so thoroughly that you pulled away immediately, you and Minghao staring at one another with equal expressions of surprise. But without warning, he crushed his lips to yours again. They were softer than you’d imagined as they slid against yours, Minghao exploring your mouth with languid curiosity.

Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest. You allowed your hands to timidly drift from his shoulders to the back of his neck, then gently tangle in the roots of his hair. Despite the riot of noise all around you, Joshua being carried on the shoulders of his teammates in celebration, all you could focus on was the feeling of kissing Minghao.

He pulled away after what could have been seconds or hours, his breathing erratic. He stared down at you for a moment and took a step back, releasing you once more. You swayed on your feet a bit after his sudden retreat out of your personal space.

“I just had to check,” he said through a heavy exhale.

“Check what?”

Minghao shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing.”

You turned your attention back to the game and ignored the shaking in your hands. What the hell just happened?

~ DAY TWENTY-TWO ~

“I think we need to have rules,” you said around a bite of your sandwich.

Minghao raised an eyebrow. “Rules? Why?” He continued poking at his pasta, cutting individual noodles into perfect, tiny squares.

You cleared your throat, aware of the self-conscious heat creeping up your neck. “At the game you, uh, kissed me. Well, I kissed you, but then you kissed me—whatever.” Minghao looked down at his food instead of you, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable. “I know it was just the excitement of the game, I don’t want you to think I expect anything out of you now.”

“I think it’s a little late to establish rules,” he said, finally taking a bite of his strangely diced pasta. “We’re already halfway through the arrangement.”

Your mouth fell open. “We are?” You did the mental math, the surprise shocking you into silence for several seconds. It felt like a week had passed, not a little over three. You had spent almost every day with Minghao, even if it was just for a few minutes between classes on campus. Other days you did things like this, going out for dinner and sometimes studying afterwards, sometimes not. You tried not to dwell on the fact you and Minghao had begun hanging out even when you knew Joshua wouldn’t be around.

Minghao smiled knowingly at you. There was a familiar look in his eyes nowadays, one that was somewhere between affection and thinking you’re a dumbass. “Cat got your tongue?”

You stuck said tongue out at him. “Well, my point still stands. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you or anything just because we kissed once.”

“I don’t think that.”

Great, super helpful. “Hao. Help me out here.”

His smile dropped, his expression turning contemplative. “Fine. How about… no more kissing? At least, not unless you ask.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you frowned.

“That won’t happen. I think we should just tack no sex on there too, while we’re at it.” At your words, Minghao’s face changed to mirror your frown.

“Fine. No sex.” He considered for another moment. “Is the point of this arrangement for you to get back together with Josh?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ sound for emphasis. In a way, the conviction with which you said it surprised you. Until now, you weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the end-goal of your fake relationship. If not to win Joshua back, what was the point? “He chose Chaeyoung, end of story. I think I’m more interested in giving him hell by being happier without him.” You smiled mischievously and Minghao snorted.

“As you should. Fine, then next rule: either of us can end the relationship at any time. If one of us decides we’re done then that’s it, no questions asked.”

For reasons you didn’t understand, your heart swooped into your stomach. You forced a swallow. “Okay.” After a beat of hesitation you plastered a teasing smile onto your face. “You’re not trying to fake-break up with me, are you?”

Thankfully, Minghao laughed. “No, darling.” He smiled when you scowled. “I enjoy the look on your face when I call you ‘darling’ far too much for that.”

“Fine, fine.” You took another bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly.

“Is that all?” Minghao asked.

“One more.” You held up a finger while you finished the sandwich in your mouth and tried not to choke. Anxiety gnawed at the edges of your mind. You weren’t quite sure how he would react to your last rule. “No falling in love. It would just complicate things unnecessarily. Even though you’ve told me that there’s no one else, I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“You have that look. I don’t know, I can just tell. You’re in love with someone but you won’t tell me who she is.”

Minghao stared at you, completely silent. His expression had gone back to the unreadable mask he’d frequently worn at the beginning of this whole thing. You hated it.

“Well?” You pushed.

Like someone had pressed play on a remote, Minghao resumed cutting and eating his pasta. “There’s no one else, but okay. I agree.”

You leaned forward. “Are you sure about that?”

He looked up at you through his eyelashes, his expression resolute. “What do you want me to say? There isn’t. I’ve gotten used to you these past few weeks. I’m having fun and I don’t care to have it with anyone else at the moment.”

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, evaluating him through narrowed eyes. He looked casual enough—he didn’t have to force the words out and there were no physical indications that he was lying. Minghao, apparently sensing your energy, set down his fork and mimicked your stance.

“Do you want me to break it off with you?” He asked neutrally.

“What? Of course not.”

“It seems like you do.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You didn’t, not at all. In fact, you were far enough into this… thing with him that you worried how you’d react after this arrangement was over. Would you replace being heartbroken over Joshua with being heartbroken over Hao?

When you said nothing, Minghao continued, “The same goes for you, you know. If someone you like tries to pursue you I’ll step aside. Even if it’s Joshua.” His face turned abruptly nervous and he swallowed. “However, I want to talk to you about something—”

“Did you say my name?”

Every ounce of curiosity at what he’d been about to say turned to ash at the voice that interrupted him.

You didn’t want to turn around. You didn’t need the confirmation that it was Joshua standing behind you, anyway. Minghao’s eyes raised to your ex-boyfriend’s face, his expression holding poorly-concealed dislike. He gave him a saccharine smile that you didn’t believe for a second.

“Joshua. What brings you here?”

He was standing far too close to your chair. Even though you still wouldn’t turn to look at him you could feel his presence behind you like a looming shadow.

“I’m meeting Chaeyoung for dinner. It’s our six-month anniversary today.”

Six months. You thought you might vomit. You knew Joshua had cheated on you, obviously, but according to this timeline he had gotten with Chaeyoung over four months before you caught them.

Minghao’s eyes flicked to you, fast enough that you could’ve imagined the worry in them. “Is that so?”

“You two are dating, then?” Joshua completely ignored Minghao’s pointed question. You knew he was addressing you without having to see his face.

You cleared your throat as a way to buy yourself time to breathe. “Yeah, we are. A little over a month now.” You were too afraid to exaggerate yours and Minghao’s relationship timeline any more than that. Joshua was known to poke holes in anything until it broke, especially when it was you.

At last, you turned to look at him. Joshua was smiling down at you, an expression that didn’t reach his eyes. Months of heartbreak surged to the surface and you pressed your lips into a hard line to keep your face from betraying your emotions.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other, Hao.”

Hao? Since when did Joshua know Minghao? Let alone well enough to call him Hao. You threw a carefully blank glance in Minghao’s direction, one he was smart enough to look nervous at.

“We met at school.”

Joshua stared at him like he expected him to continue, then looked slightly uncomfortable when he remained silent. You tried to squash your pleasure at this. It seemed Joshua didn’t know Minghao well enough to be used to the fact he was a man of few words.

“Did you need something, Josh?” You asked, your voice strained. You lied as convincingly as you could, “Neither of us said your name.”

He looked back down at you. “Oh. No, then. Just stopping by to say hi, I guess. I wish you two the best of luck with… this.”

Joshua hesitated before walking away, following a host to a booth in the corner of the restaurant.

Your eyes bore holes in the plate in front of you. You wrung your hands beneath the table, attempting to slow your racing heart. A cacophony of emotions stampeded through your mind, moving too quickly to focus on any of them individually.

This plan was stupid. You were three weeks into your fake relationship with Minghao and what did you have to show for it? Anxiety that Joshua somehow knew you were lying? Even though you’d begun to feel better in your new friend’s presence, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he repeated your name to get your attention.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t speak until you mastered the stinging in your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Don’t push me, Hao.” You raised your eyes to his face, aware of the redness in them without having to see yourself. Minghao’s face was hard with concern and he held eye contact until you broke and looked away. “You’re on a first-name basis with him?”

He was silent for a long moment, considering his words. “Yes. We used to be close.”

You released a controlled exhale, continuing to hide your shaking hands under the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have helped.”

“I had a right to know.”

“Yes, you did. Hey—” Minghao reached across the table so he could lift your chin with his fingertips, forcing you to look at him “—I wasn’t trying to hurt you by not telling you. You know that, right?”

You didn’t answer. You leaned back in your seat so that his hand was no longer touching your face. Seemingly disappointed, he withdrew it and folded his hands together on the table in front of him.

“When we met, you said this arrangement would be mutually beneficial.” Your throat was thick enough that you had trouble asking the question nagging at you. “Is it because of Joshua?”

Minghao’s answer was immediate. “No. I want nothing from him.”

You wanted to slap yourself at the involuntary relief that surged through you. You took several calming breaths, all too aware that Chaeyoung had just arrived for her date with Joshua. As much as you didn’t want to look, you watched through your periphery as they embraced and took their seats.

“I need to go home.”

Minghao seemed like he wanted to protest. He opened and closed his mouth but produced no sound. At last, he nodded tightly. This time, you weren’t sure if it was relief or extreme disappointment that bloomed in your chest.

When you stood, you held your head high. You threw some cash on the table for your meal, which Minghao deeply frowned at. Wordlessly, you squared your shoulders and walked away, aware of Minghao’s eyes following you until you disappeared onto the street outside.

It wasn’t until you were safely in your car that you finally allowed yourself to cry.

~ DAY THIRTY ~

Minghao decided, with very little planning, to take you on an I’m-sorry-I-hurt-your-feelings-and-you-cried-over-Joshua date. Or something like that. He settled on taking you to a hockey game.

He knew little to nothing about hockey, but you didn’t mind. The two of you had made up about the confrontation with Joshua last week. Or rather, you had finally decided to stop being angry with him. You had wasted a precious four days locked in your apartment, ignoring his texts and calls while you tried to sort out your feelings. So what if he and Joshua had been friends before? You had no more ownership over him than he did of you.

Strangely, your time apart hadn’t helped. If anything, it only made your yearning for him worse. You kept having the urge to talk to your best friend about him—to scream and cry until it dissolved into healing giggles and easy conversation. Only, Minghao was your best friend nowadays. After losing both Joshua and Chaeyoung in one fell swoop, the man beside you now was basically your only friend. Your person.

So, you allowed him to take you to the hockey game. You shared stale popcorn and egregiously large soft drinks, appropriately cheering and booing where necessary. You explained the rules of hockey as best you knew how, though the old woman eavesdropping behind you corrected you on multiple occasions. You had fun. A stupid, concerning amount of fun.

Halfway through you glanced over at him and realized that you loved him. It was sudden enough to steal the breath from your lungs. You didn’t allow yourself to commit to the idea of being in love with him, but your denial could only go so far. You loved him all the same.

He caught you staring and gifted you a brilliant smile. Minghao had somehow managed to become your best friend and sort-of-lover in the span of a month, and you suddenly couldn’t imagine your life without him.

You had no idea if he felt the same, but you decided then that you didn’t want to find out. Even if he did, Joshua had ruined you for anyone else. You weren’t in love with him anymore, not by any means, but you suddenly couldn’t trust anyone who dared try to be a romantic partner. Even Minghao.

On your way out of the game, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder. It was around this time, while Minghao gazed down at you with genuine affection in his eyes, that you realized what deep shit you were in.

~ DAY THIRTY-FOUR ~

 “If I see you take one more picture of me I’m going to throw your camera in the river.”

Minghao didn’t laugh at your threat. Instead, you heard another conspicuous click as he took the hundredth photo of your side-profile. You didn’t look at him, still shielding the sun from your eyes and reclining lazily on the sloped grass. It was freezing outside, to say the least, but it was the first day in a week the sun had made an appearance.

The two of you laid out on a grassy hill along the river, bundled in three layers each and soaking up what little December sun you could. Minghao, in his usual fashion, had brought his camera and spent the past hour taking pictures of you.

“If you do that who’s going to know you died of hypothermia out here?”

You scowled in his direction without opening your eyes. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m sure you’ll shout it from the rooftops.”

Minghao sighed. You half-listened to the sounds of him laying back on the grass beside you, your bodies barely touching from shoulder to knee. Goosebumps erupted on your skin everywhere you touched, even through your combined layers of clothing. You mentally reprimanded yourself for the involuntary reaction.

There was one week left in the arrangement. One single week before your fake break-up. You hadn’t brought up your relationship’s impending doom. Neither had he. As if he sensed the direction your thoughts had taken, Minghao’s long fingers sought yours on the grass. He tangled your hands but made no move to touch you further. You couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or aggravated.

“What are we doing?” Minghao’s quiet words surprised you. Not only because he’d broken the careful silence he so revered, but because it was the question you’d been wishing he’d ask for weeks. In truth, you hadn’t expected him to.

“We’re cloud watching.”

“Darling.” You flinched at that one word, so softly spoken. A plea, a warning, an affectionate reprimand—you would never understand how Minghao was able to convey so much with so little.

“I hate that you call me that.” Minghao’s head turned to face you, a look you didn’t return. If you looked at him now, your resolve would surely crack. You forced yourself to stay strong—you only had one week left. One week, then you could get out of this with your heart unscathed.

“Sometimes I think I don’t like you very much.”

The hurt was immediate. You finally turned your head to look at him, every thought rushing from your brain at the way his eyes burned into you. Your hurt rolled off you in subtle waves, despite your fierce attempt to hide it.

“Why?” You whispered.

“Because you make me wonder.”

That gave you pause. In all honesty, you had no idea what he meant. You voiced your confusion aloud, albeit softly, like you were trying very hard not to scare him away. Minghao still hadn’t released your hand, his skin warm and dry against yours. Despite the brisk winter air, the few small places your bodies touched warmed you enough not to notice.

“You make me wonder.” He repeated himself and shrugged, like it was the simplest explanation in the world. “I’ve never been one to believe in things like fate or destiny or whatever else the romantics tell us to dream for. I was very peaceful before all this, you know. I had my camera and a regular schedule and the few friends who stuck around after we graduated high school. Every day was simple, but I’ve always preferred it that way. Then you crashed into the men’s bathroom like a bat out of hell and… now I wonder.”

The breath had long since been stolen from your chest. “What do you wonder about?”

A ghost of a smile flickered on his face, its beauty there and gone in an instant. “I wonder about fate and destiny and the things romantics tell me to dream for. I always thought it was disappointing to watch the people around me fall in love. A waste of potential, or something like that. People become so wrapped up in those they love that it leaves little time for everything else.

“Yet here we are. The majority of the pictures on my camera are of you. When Joshua made you cry at dinner I thought I was going to tear his throat out with my teeth, and I am not a violent person. I could see so clearly, for the first time, what type of person he made you when you were together. Small and helpless and sad—nothing like the fierce girl that came into my life like a fucking hurricane and stole my peace right out from under me.”

Your chest was painfully tight now. “Hao, stop.”

He didn’t. “I value sleep more than most things in my life and I haven’t been able to get more than four hours a night since we kissed at the football game. When I got frustrated looking at all the photos of you on my camera I switched to painting, only to find I had painted your eyes without even meaning to.” Minghao sat up jerkily without releasing your hand. His eyes earnestly searched yours with an intensity that made you want to shrink under his gaze. You forced yourself to remain still, returning his stare without flinching. “You are… incandescent. Breathtakingly beautiful. I can’t breathe when I’m with you and I’m half-mad when we’re apart. Don’t you see? I can’t win.”

“Hao…” Your warning trailed off, his rapid breaths the only thing to fill the silence. Even the chatter of passerby and the drone of the city fell away, leaving you in a cocoon of quiet.

His hand released yours so that he could hold your face, his thumbs tracing gentle circles across your cheeks. Fire bloomed beneath your skin, flaring everywhere he made contact. Your hands raised to cover his, neither of you moving as you stared deeply into one another’s eyes. You were certain you looked crazy to anyone walking by.

For one tiny, insignificant moment, you allowed yourself to hope. It unfurled in your chest and beat alongside your heart. The possibility that this beautiful man could truly want you the way you wanted him rendered you speechless.

Minghao’s thumb traced your bottom lip and he groaned softly at the heated breath you released. “I have fallen so deeply, irreversibly in love with you that I don’t think my heart will ever truly belong to me again.” His words shocked you to your very core.

He leaned forward, watching your expression through hooded eyes. His warm breath mingled with yours and your entire body locked at his proximity. He was going to kiss you. Again. Only this time there was no crowd, no Joshua watching from the football field, no adrenaline to spur you on. If you kissed him now, there was nothing to blame it on.

Minghao’s lips brushed yours. You’d forgotten how soft they were—the way his breath made goosebumps skitter like beetles across your spine. His fingers were so long that they disappeared in your hairline, tangling in your roots like he never meant to let you go. He parted his lips to deepen the kiss and you felt his tongue ghost across your bottom lip.

You jerked away. You scrambled to your feet faster than he could react, your chest heaving. Minghao stared up at you, dazed, his breathing irregular for an entirely different reason than yours.

“What are you doing?” There was venom in your voice. More than you had intended, judging by the way he flinched back. When he said nothing, you bit out, “Are you trying to hurt me?”

Minghao’s eyes widened. “What? No—”

“Just stop, Hao.” The angry beast in your chest settled, retreating into its slumber as fast as it had awoken. Your shoulders sagged and you looked at your feet. You were abruptly exhausted, sadness nipping at your cheeks as surely as the winter around you. “You don’t mean it. I know you think you do—” you rushed when he opened his mouth to interrupt you “—but you don’t.”

“How could you possibly know that?” he huffed indignantly.

“This whole arrangement is based on a lie. We’ve been pretending to be in love for five weeks, it’s bound to have affected one of us after a while.”

“One of us?” Minghao surged to his feet, suddenly crowding your space. His hands took hold of your face again and he earnestly searched your eyes. You kept your expression blank, worried that if you showed any sort of emotion then you’d crack. “One of us? Tell me you don’t feel it too. Look me in the eye right now and tell me you aren’t in love with me.”

And there it was. The point of no return. You knew you’d have to lie, but would he believe you? It was the only way to spare him—spare either of you—from any further heartbreak because of your baggage. You couldn’t stand to see him hurt, to be the one that hurt him, but you had no other choice.

So, you once again placed your hands over his on your cheeks and took a deep breath. “I’m not in love with you, Hao. I never have been.”

For several moments, it appeared as if he hadn’t heard you. Minghao froze until, all at once, your words crashed into him and he stumbled back as if he’d been burned.

“You’re lying,” he breathed.

You squared your shoulders, still keeping your mask in that unkind, emotionless mask. “I’m not. I’m so sorry I led you on, I swear I never meant to. But we had rules, Hao. We made rules to prevent anything like this happening and you went and broke them anyway.”

You were being cruel, you knew you were. It was the only way. That’s what you kept telling yourself, over and over, as the affection in Minghao’s eyes turned to hurt, then to ice.

“Why are you saying this? Did something happen with Joshua?”

You attempted to laugh but it sounded strangled to your own ears. “No, nothing happened with Joshua. I want nothing to do with him. If we were to do this, it would only hurt worse down the line. I just… I wish you hadn’t said anything.”

Minghao backed up a step, then another, each of his footfalls a resounding crack in your heart. “Forget I did. You know what? Forget all of this.” He turned to walk away but stopped immediately and looked at you over his shoulder. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what happened, but if you’d rather be alone then fine.”

“It’s better that way.”

Minghao’s eyes shuttered. He turned and began striding up the hill as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t turn to look at you again, and never once did you look away.

~ DAY FORTY ~

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You jumped hard enough that you dropped your noodles in midair. They plunked back into your bowl and nearly splashed Joshua’s expensive leather jacket as he slid into the booth next to you. Your eyes raised slowly to look at him, taking in the look of vague distaste he gave you. “And you look like shit.”

You smiled sourly. “Gee, thanks.” It wasn’t anything you didn’t already know. In the past six days, you had barely eaten or slept, and you’d taken your first post-breakup shower only yesterday. Breakup, if you could even call it that. It sure felt like one.

“I heard you broke up with Minghao.”

You cringed. At this point, who hadn’t heard? It seemed like everywhere you turned, someone was whispering or staring at you. “That’s none of your business.” You tried to nonchalantly take another bite of your ramen but it might as well have tasted like tar.

“Fair enough, but who else is going to talk to you about it?”

Unfortunately true. “Why do you care, Josh?”

His eyes softened, just barely. “Because I still care about you.” You threw him a skeptical glare. “And because you’re infecting the entire campus with your heartbreak. It’s making everyone uncomfortable.”

“Everyone meaning you?” The timid smile on your face faded. You stabbed at your food, your appetite long gone. Before you could think better of it, you blurted, “It wasn’t real.”

Joshua’s brows furrowed. “What wasn’t real?”

“Any of it. Minghao and I never dated. It was… stupid, now that I think about it, but this all started because I barged into the boy’s bathroom trying to avoid you and Chaeyoung.”

Your chest felt inexplicably lighter after your confession. You thought that you’d be humiliated if Joshua ever found out, but you realized now you didn’t care. You’d gotten a best friend out of it, even if you’d gone and fucked it up five weeks in.

Joshua stared at you beneath lowered brows, his arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes flicked nervously between his face and the dining hall around him. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t feel like embarrassing me today?”

“I don’t believe you.”

You scoffed. “What?”

“I don’t believe you.” Joshua shrugged. He leaned forward and stole your chopsticks out of your hand, then proceeded to brazenly take a bite of your ramen.

You stared at him, speechless for several seconds too long. “I… don’t know what to say to that. Am I supposed to convince you that I rashly entered a fake relationship to both make you jealous and angry?”

“Maybe it started out that way, but you’re definitely in love with him now. You weren’t this heartbroken after we broke up, I can tell you that much.” Joshua hit his chest with a fist and returned your utensils, a grimace on his face. “This is so spicy, what’s wrong with you?”

You didn’t reply. You just looked at him, your mind racing. You muttered at last, “It doesn’t matter if I’m in love with him. Hell, it doesn’t even matter if he’s in love with me. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want all the baggage I have to bring into a real relationship.”

“What baggage?” He shot back. You stared at him incredulously, waiting for him to get it. Recognition flared in Joshua’s eyes and he smiled apologetically. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you asked him if he cares about your baggage?”

You frowned. “Well, no. But who would?”

“I think you’re forgetting that he already knows about your baggage. At least the me part of it. If what you’re telling me is true—which is crazy, by the way—then he literally got involved with you on the basis of your emotional issues.”

That was a good point, actually. You took another bite of your noodles, attempting to shake off the misplaced hope Joshua had instilled in you. “It doesn’t matter. I broke it off when he confessed. I was kind of a bitch to him, actually, so I’m not sure he ever wants to see me again.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that. He looks just as bad as you do, you know. Whatever you said to him, it worked, but I know Minghao. At least, I used to. To this day I haven’t met anyone even close to the man he is. He’ll forgive you if you’re honest.” Joshua stood and stretched his shoulders, his neck still flushed from eating your food. You stared up at him, more than a little dumbfounded. “Look, there’s an exhibition for the school of photography on Friday. Student admission is included in the cost of tuition.”

You knew what he was trying to tell you. Minghao would be there, no doubt about it. If you wanted to mend things with him, it was your best opportunity to talk to him somewhere he couldn’t shut a door in your face.

He had just turned to walk away when you spoke. “Why do you even care, Joshua?”

He stopped. When he looked at you again, there was genuine regret in his eyes. “I owe you. A lot more than this, considering what I did. Consider this my first act of earning forgiveness.”

“It was Chaeyoung’s idea, wasn’t it?”

He smiled wryly. “She misses you. Even if you never speak to her again, she wants you to be happy.”

Joshua said nothing else before he walked back into the throng of students in the dining hall. You remained frozen for a long time, your ramen now ice-cold and your thoughts running circles around you.

Fear had made you break it off with Minghao at the moment he told you everything you’d been dying to hear. He’d confessed and you’d thrown it in his face, believing yourself too broken to be with someone like him. He was the sun, you were a violent storm. Where he was peace personified, you often felt closer to screaming until the heavens fell. It shouldn’t work between you, but it did.

You loved him. That much was simple. It wasn’t until this very moment that you truly considered he might love you too. He had basically said as much, but it was now, six days late, that you believed him. If Minghao felt even half as miserable as you did now, you would spend the rest of your life trying to get over the guilt of hurting him.

You groaned and let your head fall into your hands. You had royally fucked up.

~ DAY FORTY-TWO ~

It seemed kismet that the exhibition—a.k.a. your excuse to beg for Minghao’s forgiveness—took place on what should have been the last day of the arrangement. You hadn’t even been sure you would show up until you arrived at the gallery.

I’m not gonna go, you’d said to yourself while curling your hair. You’d struggled to choose between two outfits, both of which Minghao had bought for you towards the beginning of this whole thing. Sooo not going. You’d decided to put on a little bit of makeup at the last minute. I’m just gonna order takeout again.

Now, you stood in front of the glass gallery doors, your heart in your throat and fear creeping in at the edges of your vision. It would be so much easier to walk away. He hadn’t seen you yet, it wasn’t too late to back out.

Your feet carried you forward without your permission. Each step was more confident than you really felt. Even if he wouldn’t give you another chance, which you wouldn’t blame him for, you were possessed by the need to tell him he’d been right. You did love him, and you were a fool, and your inability to love maturely was not his fault.

The gallery was beautiful, architecturally speaking. Everything inside the white stone building was pale, glossy wood, accented with stainless steel and glass. A large crystal chandelier dominated most of the lobby space, looking more like dripping ice as it hung over the crowd below. Every wall, even disappearing into the corridors branching off from the lobby, were covered by student work.

Low voices formed a steady hum around you, most people enraptured by the photos on the walls. You found yourself among them. Some of these photographs were incredible. It was obvious to you that your peers had poured their entire souls into their work, and some of these images were somehow better quality than your actual vision. For the first time, you understood what drew Minghao to photography as an art form.

You walked slowly along the wall, stopping briefly to admire each piece. For reasons you couldn’t fathom, a photo of a wilting flower nearly brought you to tears. You weren’t sure if it was really the art itself or if you were just feeling fragile. Possibly both. You continued on aimlessly, almost forgetting why you were here in the first place. You had no idea where Minghao was in all this, but you were bound to find him eventually.

You stopped when you reached the end of one of the hallways, this entire section seemingly occupied by one photographer’s unique style. Most of the pictures were in black and white, a select few of them rendered in shocking color. It was one of the color photographs that drew your attention.

Recognition teased the back of your mind as you approached. It depicted a dripping sink in a public restroom, the entire space covered in grime except the vibrant blue flower sitting on the counter. You had no idea why this scene seemed familiar to you—you certainly hadn’t been in this bathroom before.

You moved on to the next color photograph, but you didn’t really see it. Your entire body seized without reason, suddenly aware of a subtle change in the air.

You felt his presence without having to look. Despite your anxiety at baring your soul to him, you felt inexplicably lighter knowing he was here. Minghao walked up to stand beside you, mirroring your stance with his arms crossed over his chest. You gazed at the picture in front of you together in silence. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t focus your eyes on the art.

“Why are you here?”

His voice almost brought you to tears. I love you. “I came to see you.”

“Why?”

I love you, I love you, I love you. “To apologize.”

Minghao looked over at you. His eyes took you in, heat flooding your skin everywhere his gaze touched. “For what? Breaking up with me before we had a chance to date or crashing my senior photo exhibition?”

You recoiled. “Both, I guess.” You forced yourself to turn so you could look at him. It was a mistake. Minghao looked amazing. His skin was flushed with lively color, wonderfully offsetting the deep black of his hair. He’d foregone the blue-light glasses today, meaning there was nothing to protect you from the weight of his gaze. You realized with no small amount of certainty that you would do anything for Minghao to wear a suit forever. You opened your mouth and closed it several times, unsure of what to say now that he was in front of you. I love you, Hao. You were right. “Are these your pictures?”

“Yes.”

“They’re lovely.” You meant it. Minghao had a mastery over color that you would never be able to fully appreciate.

He looked back at the photograph hanging in front of you, a pensive look on his face. There was a strange, subtle humor there, too, though you had no idea why. “Thank you. It took a lot of sleepless nights, but I’m glad I didn’t give up on them.”

Guilt nagged at your thoughts. He hadn’t given up, but you certainly had. “I’m sorry I gave up,” you voiced aloud. “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I was afraid. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s true.” You took a deep breath and lifted your chin, staring at Minghao’s side profile as he looked at his photo. “Joshua fucked me up, Hao. I’ve been so terrified to open up again, to anyone, and I ran away the second you tried to give me what I’d been hoping for.”

“I’m not him.”

“I know. I know that now. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I tried to lie so that you would leave first. It was wrong, and I promise I’m trying. Because I—” you choked. I love you. You cleared your throat and tried again. “I love you.”

He was silent for a long time, long enough that you wondered if he would turn and walk away without a word.

“You love me?” He said at last. He spoke the words slowly, like he was tasting them, testing the weight of them on his tongue.

You shuddered. “Yes.”

Minghao took a deep breath and nodded once to himself. “You haven’t really looked at my work at all, have you?”

It was, without a doubt, the last thing you’d expected him to say. “What?”

He gestured vaguely at the piece in front of you, your eyes following the movement. You processed the couch first, then the fact that there was a body beneath a blanket on top of it. Hair fanned across a pillow, the girl’s face obstructed from view by a glare of sunlight. But one of her arms was extended, reaching limply towards whoever was behind the camera as she held up the blanket covering her. Beckoning them closer, asking them to join her.

Realization broke over you with the force of a tsunami. That was your living room. It was you on the couch, two weeks ago, sleeping the day away while Minghao watched TV from your secondary loveseat. At least, you’d thought he’d been watching TV. You remembered being cold and having trouble falling asleep, enough that you’d sleepily asked Minghao to join you. He’d pretended to be annoyed as he clicked off the television and slid onto the couch beside you, easily gathering you into his arms like you were made to be there. It was the best sleep you’d gotten since before your breakup with Joshua.

Apparently, he’d taken a picture of you before granting your tired request. The photograph, blown up to massive size and framed, was titled To Love Easily.

“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth with a shaking hand, your eyes darting to take in Minghao’s other displayed photographs. The bathroom. The bathroom, depicted more symbolically than it appeared in real life. Another of your hands, covered in flour from when the two of you attempted to make homemade pasta. A shot of Minghao’s fingers in your hair, a tiny blue flower petal tucked between the strands. You remembered it. He’d braided your hair for you before went to the hockey game because you were sick of it touching your neck.

All of these photos, in one way or another, were about you. The story of you, told through Minghao’s eyes. Suddenly, with blinding clarity, you saw yourself the way he did. Yes, you were a raging storm, but one seen through the window of a warm, dry home. If you decided to scream until the heavens fell, Minghao would be there to catch them.

“You love me.” You repeated his earlier question back at him, but it was no real question. Minghao loved you.

“Yes, darling, I love you.” A strangled sob broke from your chest, instantly embarrassing you. Minghao’s fingers gently took hold of your elbow and turned you to face him. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen. I already knew why you lashed out the way you did—expected it, even. You were just a little meaner than I expected, that’s all.”

You laughed despite yourself. One side of his lips kicked up in a small smile. His hand gently squeezed the back of your neck and he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“How do you not hate me?” You murmured.

“I can’t hate you for making a mistake. I knew you would come around. I mean, have you seen me?”

You halfheartedly punched his arm as he snickered. Before you could process that he moved at all, Minghao’s mouth was on yours. The kiss was gentle. Exploratory. It was what the last kiss should have been before you ripped yourself away.

His tongue gently probed yours, one small lick across your bottom lip turning your limbs to jelly. Minghao increased the pressure, his hand drifting from your neck to between your shoulder blades, then to your waist. He gently squeezed your soft skin and, completely on accident, you released a tiny moan that only he could hear.

You broke apart immediately. You stared at one another wide-eyed, embarrassment setting your cheeks aflame. Slowly, a sly smile took over Minghao’s face. Oh god. You’d seen that look many times before.

He leaned in so his mouth was pressed against the shell of your ear. He exhaled softly, drawing a small, contented sigh from you. Minghao squeezed your waist again.

“The exhibition is over in twenty minutes. Think you can wait?”

-----

You didn’t even make it through your front door before Minghao had you off your feet. You squealed as he lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his trim hips. He pressed you against the wall of your entryway, his hands braced on either side of your waist.

He nuzzled the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his lips dragging soft lines along your skin. Your sleeve had fallen down past your shoulder, baring your collarbone to the mercy of his mouth. You groaned at each small love bite he left, his mouth so gentle that you hardly felt the sting.

“I have waited—” he began, and you groaned when he sucked particularly hard on the side of your throat “—so long for this.”

You shared the sentiment. You’d developed feelings for Minghao fairly quickly into the arrangement and your brain had been plagued by imagining this exact scenario since. “Kiss me, then,” you said breathlessly.

He needed no further encouragement. Minghao’s lips eagerly found yours, this kiss nothing like its predecessors. He kissed you urgently, hungrily, like he might very well die if he stopped. You flattened your hips against his, a choked sound of pleasure escaping both of you when you ground against his erection. You hadn’t expected him to be hard already, but you figured he probably had been since the two of you hastily left the gallery.

His tongue invaded your mouth with an intensity that drew sharp pants from your throat. You returned his energy stroke for stroke, unable to get enough of him. Your hands dragged from his hair to his shoulders and further down, your nails digging in as you gripped his ass and forcibly pulled his hips tighter against yours. Minghao thrust against you, the friction making you see stars even with your clothes still on.

He gripped your ass hard enough to bruise and jerked you away from the wall so he could stumble to your bedroom. You barely made it, both of you kissing wildly and breathlessly giggling the entire way.

His body blanketed yours as you fell onto the bed, his warmth comforting and heartbreakingly familiar. You both muttered incoherent praises and I love you’s into the other’s mouth, still unable to get close enough. You sighed contentedly as he began to work his way down your body, taking clothes as he went. His chilled fingers slid beneath your blouse and helped you remove it completely, leaving you in a lacy white bra. He unabashedly moaned at the sight, and you would have giggled if not for the wet kiss he placed on each of your nipples over the fabric.

He continued his leisurely journey downwards, his hands kneading your breasts. His lips drifted across your waistline with infuriating slowness. You whined when he caught the button of your pants between his teeth and tugged lightly before moving on. Your fingers tangled in the roots of his hair, simultaneously enjoying its softness and lightly pulling to urge him on.

“Hao, you’re killing me here,” you murmured.

“Call it payback.” Despite his cocky words, his voice was strained with lust. You looked down at him and immediately regretted it when you almost came at the sight. His hair was wild from your hands running through it, flushed color high on his cheeks and his pupils blown so wide that hardly any brown remained.

No matter what he said, he wouldn’t be able to resist burying himself inside you for much longer.

At last, Minghao unbuttoned your pants and carefully pushed them down your legs, taking your underwear with them. You tried to find it within yourself to be embarrassed at your nakedness, but you couldn’t. Minghao’s eyes devouring you like this felt so right that it put a lump in your throat.

“I love you,” you told him again, as if you hadn’t said the same three words a hundred times in the last hour. Regardless, Minghao blushed again as if it were the first time you’d told him, a sweet smile pulling at his lips. When combined with the lust-crazed look in his eyes, though, you found yourself clenching woefully around nothing.

When your lower half was sufficiently stripped naked, Minghao lifted himself off the bed so he could remove his suit jacket and button-down, stepping out of his shoes at the same time. He did so slowly, methodically, and you watched him through hooded eyes, appreciating the tension of the wait as much as he did. Your mouth dried at the sight of him. His body was leanly-muscled and utterly perfect, dotted every so often with constellations of moles and small scars from past adventures.

“You’re so pretty,” you sighed, pleased when Minghao blushed again. He didn’t let your words distract him, instead settling between your thighs and roughly tugging your hips closer to his face. You gasped as you slid down the bed, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

His breath was unbearably warm against your overheated core and, like he could sense how it drove you wild, he blew lightly on your clit. Your entire body seized, your hands immediately burying themselves in his hair again.

“If we do this, darling, I want to make something abundantly clear.”

You cracked your eyes open, unsure when you had actually screwed them shut. “Yes, Hao?”

Minghao groaned and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “If you say it like that again I might never let you leave this bed.” You squirmed, the need to have his mouth on you all-consuming. He kissed your other thigh, allowing his tongue to drag to your pelvic bone as you moaned. He waited until you were looking down at him, your chest heaving, before he spoke. “After tonight, I’m yours, do you understand me? You won’t be able to get me away from this pretty pussy.”

Your entire body flooded with heat. “Yes, Hao. You’re mine. I’m yours—” Your declaration cut off in a cry when Minghao’s tongue parted your folds in one long stroke. He stopped to dote on your clit, working you in tight, expert circles that catapulted you to the edge in three seconds flat.

You weren’t sure when one of his hands left your thigh, but you jolted in surprise when two of his fingers poised themselves at your entrance. He gathered your slick on his fingertips and pushed in at the same time his tongue increased its pressure. You moaned loudly and ground your hips against his face, tugging hard at the roots of his hair now. Minghao groaned against you, the vibrations driving you wild. His fingers pushed into you at an angle, over and over again, long enough that they easily bumped that incredible spot inside you on every pass.

You climbed higher and higher with no end in sight. You were a thread one small breath from snapping, your entire body quivering with your need to orgasm.

“You taste—” he sucked hard and wet on your clit “—so fucking good.”

“God, Hao, please—”

“Come for me, darling.” Minghao withdrew his fingers from you without warning. Before you could protest their absence he replaced them with his tongue, thrusting it into you with the fervor of a man starved. Your back arched and you cried out. A light sheen of sweat covered your entire body as you writhed. “Need to taste it, please—” His nose bumped your clit at just the right angle and the thread finally snapped.

Your orgasm tore through you like a shooting star. Your body lit up, explosions rippling all the way to the tips of your toes. You clenched hard around Minghao’s tongue and he moaned, obviously satisfied beyond belief, as you came in his mouth.

It felt like hours before you finally came down. Your entire body shook in the wake of what was probably the best orgasm of your life. Definitely better than any that Joshua had ever given you, a thought which made you giggle.

Minghao kissed his way up your body, his lips and chin shining with you. “What’s so funny?” He nipped at the spot below your ear before capturing your mouth in his. You groaned at the taste of you on his lips, instantly ready for him again.

“Oh, nothing.” You giggled. “Joshua could never—”

Minghao cut you off with an honest-to-god growl. He moved back to kissing your throat, leaving new hickies over the ones he’d already created. You bit your lip, still smiling at the ceiling as he lightly ground his clothed dick against your core. “Will you not say his name after I’ve just made you orgasm?” He asked indignantly.

You pushed Minghao off of you by his shoulders, pleased by the surprised look on his face as you rolled him onto his back. You felt unbelievably powerful as you straddled him now. He couldn’t keep his eyes off your breasts even if he wanted to. You wordlessly reached behind you to unclasp your bra, taking your time sliding the straps down your shoulders. At last you were left bare before him and you tossed your bra across the room.

He began to sit up, his face dark with lust, but you stopped him before he could take your nipple in his mouth. He met your eyes, confused, and you answered him with a knowing smile.

You kissed his jaw, then his throat, pushing him back down onto his back as you moved to his torso. You didn’t torture him by moving slowly as he had with you, looking up at him through your eyelashes to observe his reactions. His breaths turned into quiet, short gasps when your mouth reached the skin just above his pants.

You unbuttoned his pants slowly, taking your time pulling those down first, then his underwear. Your mouth dried when his hard cock sprang free, the tip flushed and glistening with precum. You had no doubt that the stretch would be incredible—both his size and shape were perfect for you, like he had been designed with you in mind. Or perhaps the other way around. If there was ever a doubt in your mind about how much he wanted you, it was gone now.

His hips thrusted gently into the open air, seeking nonexistent friction. You took a moment to admire him and bit your lip. You pressed more kisses to his soft thighs, his knees, his hips. His cock twitched.

“Pretty boy,” you purred. He shuddered.

Minghao moaned again. “Please, baby—”

You cut him off by wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. He instinctively thrusted hard, nearly choking you, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. You wantonly moaned around him, gratified by the hard shudder that worked its way through his body in response.

The taste of him was addicting. You recklessly sought more of it as you took him further into your mouth, stopping only when he hit the back of your throat. You gagged and Minghao’s hands threaded into your hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail at the nape of your neck. You were dripping down your thighs now, a mixture of your cum from your last orgasm and the new need to have his cock inside you.

“You’re so sexy—ah—yes, just like that.” Minghao’s praises were music to your ears, only fueling you to bob your head on him faster. You relaxed your throat as best you could, pride swelling in your chest when you managed to take him deep. He gasped sharply when you swallowed around his length. “Fuck—yes, do that again—”

You obeyed, ignoring the tears overflowing onto your cheeks and the lewd sounds you were making. Minghao seemed so turned on now that he might explode out of his skin. Your hand found his sac, gently massaging it in time with the movements of your mouth. You felt him tighten beneath you, a telltale sign that he was seconds from cumming.

Not for the first time tonight, Minghao moved too quickly for you to process in a timely manner. Before you could blink you were trapped beneath him on the mattress, tears still staining your face and the taste of his cock in your mouth. He kissed you feverishly, his dick sandwiched between you as he ground himself against your stomach.

“I want to finish inside you, not before,” he said into your mouth, eliciting a groan from deep in your chest.

“Yes,” you hissed. You took his cock in your hand and smiled when he jerked. By this point, even with your previous orgasm, both of you were so sensitive that you wouldn’t last long. “Are you clean?” you asked.

“Yes, why—”

“Good, because I want you raw. I have to feel you—”

Minghao cut you off with a wild moan and kiss, his lips barely giving you time to catch a breath. “God, I love you.”

Your heart bloomed with warmth. This is what you’d been so terrified of? Loving and being loved in return?

He helped you line up the head of his cock with your entrance, notching it in just enough to stay there as he pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead. Your eyes were locked on where he entered you as he pushed in to the hilt.

You both released simultaneous moans of relief. Your limbs trembled as you tried to accommodate his size, the stretch burning through you in delicious licks of pleasure.

“You feel so good…” he murmured, taking one of your breasts into his mouth and sucking relentlessly at the nipple. “God, you’re so tight—”

You whined, urging him to move. He obeyed, slipping out of you almost completely before pushing back in. His face fell against your shoulder and he softly bit down on your flesh to stifle his moans. You unintentionally clenched around his length in response, dragging another strangled groan out of him.

He easily hit your g-spot on every thrust. You found yourself coiling tighter and tighter, dangerously close to your orgasm once again. Your walls continuously fluttered around him, made more intense by the string of unintelligible praises and curses that fell from his lips.

He captured your mouth in his again. Your nails dug into his shoulders and dragged low on his hips—you knew you would leave scratches, but you didn’t care in the slightest. Neither did he, apparently, because his thrusts turned wild. He impaled you on his cock over and over again, his pace brutal and unrelenting as you both sought your highs.

There wasn’t a single thought in your head save the feeling of Minghao pounding into you. You were an absolute mess, as was he—hair tangled, sweat-slicked bodies colliding and faces pinched with pleasure.

“Cum inside, baby—” you moaned “I’m on the pill, please. I need you—”

“Ah, fuck—” Minghao cut himself off and his thrusts grew sloppier, signaling that he was close. The sensation of his cock pulsing inside you ignited your second orgasm like a wildfire.

Your walls contracted hard enough that he moaned unrestrained this time, and he stilled momentarily as he filled you in repeated, thick spurts. Euphoria shattered through you, so intense you could scarcely breathe around it. He rocked his hips against yours slowly, working you both through your highs without crossing the line into pain.

When you both returned to earth, Minghao still didn’t remove his cock from you. Instead he rolled onto his side with his arms around you, taking you with him, and you threw a leg over his hips. You laid like that for a long time, just basking in the comfortable silence and aftershocks of your orgasms.

Tonight had ended the best way it possibly could have. You kissed Minghao lazily, like you had all the time in the world to do so. And really, you did. His fingers traced gentle lines up and down your spine as you drew small circles on his ribcage.

“Why did you agree to fake dating me?” You asked suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“The day we met, you said the arrangement would be mutually exclusive. What did you mean?”

Minghao laughed softly. “I’d forgotten about that. That day in the bathroom wasn’t the first time I saw you,” he confessed. “The first time I saw you was last spring outside the library. You were carrying this huge stack of books and you dropped them without question so you could help a caterpillar off the staircase. You put it in the grass and continued on like it was nothing.” Your jaw dropped. You barely remembered that and were shocked that he did, especially in such detail. “I think that’s when I fell in love with you, but who knows.” He drew back to look at you, satisfaction oozing from his every pore at your shock. He kissed the tip of your nose. “I have a proposition for you,” he murmured.

Your eyes narrowed. The last proposition had taken both of you for a wild ride, to say the least. “What is it?”

Minghao smiled.

“Will you be my girlfriend?"

~ DAY FOUR HUNDRED SEVENTEEN ~

You were almost more nervous to walk across the stage because Minghao was in the audience. Graduating college was already nerve-wracking, but put a smoking-hot boy who only had eyes for you in the mix? You were a goner.

You gripped your fake diploma for dear life—the real one was tucked safely in your purse beneath Minghao’s chair—and prayed you wouldn’t eat shit halfway through your walk.

You glanced out at the audience, finding your boyfriend’s face immediately. No, scratch that—fiancé. You still couldn’t get used to it, even if it had been a month already. You glanced down at the ring glittering on your finger, a dainty, whimsical thing that perfectly suited the man who had given it to you.

The sight gave you comfort. You looked back up at Minghao, who now had a pleased smile on his face as if he could sense the direction your thoughts had taken. He flashed you a conspicuous thumbs-up and you giggled quietly.

You turned back to the stage, suddenly aware that you were next to walk. You wished Minghao were up here with you, but he had graduated the semester prior and was left to support you from afar. You watched as Chaeyoung—the valedictorian, funny enough—shook hands with the boy who had gone before you, a radiant smile on her face. She looked beautiful. But then again, she always was. One of these days, you might actually achieve fully forgiving her so you could ask where she got those earrings.

Distantly, you heard the announcer call your name and the following whoops and cheers from Minghao and your family. The grin on your face wasn’t faked—over the past year-and-a-half, more and more of your smiles had become genuine.

You took a deep breath. Aware of Minghao watching you, you took the first step into the rest of your life.

BOOM! and with that, minghaoyoudoin is finally deserving of her name haha 😆 thank you again for reading if you made it this far, please leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

masterlist here :)

© minghaoyoudoin 2022 - all rights reserved. reposts/translations not allowed. I do not assume to know the personal lives of the idol(s) depicted in this fic, this is for entertainment purposes only!

[wheeboo]

ukiyo | xu minghao

SYNOPSIS. in which you and minghao spend the day together. PAIRING. xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship  WARNINGS. language alluding to death, reader is in a wheelchair, mentions of an unnamed terminal disease that causes reader to have weakened limbs n feel very weak in general, vague mention of nudity (hao takes off reader’s clothes and gives them a bath) but nothing is explicitly described, descriptions of a hospital, terms of endearment (love), one curse word WORD COUNT. 4.3k

ukiyo ( 浮世 ) 𑁋 “the floating world”; living in the moment; detached from the bothers of life.

notes: there’s not really a plot to this. it’s just brainrot because i love torturing myself and my heart. i saw pics of the beach of hai cheng mv and immediately wanted to write something sad for no reason. 

The late morning sunlight pours in through the small window of the bathroom as you hold a steady, blank gaze at the running water gushing out from the faucet. The sounds bounce off the walls of the bathroom, and you bring your eyes down to your legs. 

You can hardly move them. 

It’s been this way for the past two years. It had started with the muscles of your legs slowly succumbing to the weakness stemming from the terminal illness you had been diagnosed with. And as time continues to routinely pass, that certain weakness had set out to invade other parts of your body like a dumb and relentless parasite.

Over the years, the disease had been slowly nearing its peak. The countless visits to the hospital had laggardly dissipated every bit of hope to a possible recovery, and you’ve gotten used to the sentences being said of There’s no cure for the disease, or Sooner or later, it can spread to your brain. You’re only growing weaker and weaker each passing day. Every day tasks were already strenuous. Opening your eyes in the morning took too much strength. Nothing but tiredness and exhaustion plagued your body. Headaches have been becoming more prevalent. Sometimes you just want all this pain to cease to exist. You didn’t want to put this burden on the people you love. 

You didn’t want to put this burden on Minghao.

“So... cherry blossom, lavender, or coconut chamomile?”

You slowly bring your gaze up to the sight of your boyfriend holding up three different scents of bubble bath in the doorway. The sight makes you giggle as you look between the different scents with curiosity, before looking back up at Minghao. 

Even after being together the past four years, just the fleeting sight of him lights you up. Your body may be growing weaker each day, but your unwavering love for the man holding up bottles of bubble bath scents has never faltered. Not one bit. 

But if you weren’t sick, he would be able to live the long, happy life that he wanted, right?

Minghao knows that you are tired𑁋it’s your default answer every day. He wishes he can be able to take away the exhaustion that you feel. He wishes to put all of that pain onto his shoulders and carry it for you so you could experience the freedom away from the constraints of your illness. 

But he also knows that life doesn't always grant such wishes.

“Will you... surprise me?” You ask instead. 

All he does is smile. It’s that soft, fond nose-scrunching smile that you’ve grown to love over the years. Minghao places the bottles on the counter of the sink, putting his body in front so you wouldn’t be able to see what he selects. Covering the bottle with his arms, he playfully walks backward towards the bathtub, causing you to elicit a weak laugh at his dorky antics.

As he reaches the tub, he leans over and carefully pours the bubble bath into the warm water, And as you watch, a gentle purple hue of bubbles begin to form and spread sporadically throughout the tub like a magical mist. It's the soothing and enchanting aroma of lavender.

“You... always know what I like, hm?” You ask him as he closes the container to the bottle and sets it back on the sink counter.

The corners of Minghao’s lips curl amusedly. "I may have learned a thing or two about you over the years.”

The sincerity in his words never fails to relax your heart and push away the clouds of your bittersweet thoughts. Minghao waits a minute or two before turning off the faucet and directing his attention back to you.

“Now,” He leans in front of you, letting his hands caress over yours on the handle of the wheelchair and landing at the hems of your shirt. “can I help you out of these clothes?”

A blush grows on your cheeks at his request despite him doing this for years. You heave out a nervous breath and nod as Minghao's hands begin to move over you with practiced ease, aware of your weakened limbs and exhausted state. He keeps his touch gentle and respectful, and starts with unbuttoning your shirt, his delicate fingers gliding effortlessly along the fabric to reveal the vulnerability the lies underneath. He doesn’t rush or hurry anything, simply setting his focus on you and only you. The warmth of his hands against your skin sends shivers running down your spine.

Though he has seen you bare for him many times, Minghao can’t help the faint smirk to his face. As the last button is undone, he lets your shirt fall to the tile floor below, his gaze travelling over you with adoration. The all-too familiar intimacy between you two has never diminished the admiration he holds for you. Treasuring you is something he has always been devoted to do. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your knuckle, and you feel the surge of warmth and love run marathons to your heart.

With his hands now free from the task of your shirt, he continues his journey downwards, the tips of his fingers ghosting tenderly over your fragile skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You can barely feel the way he touches you, but the thought of him doing so brings you comfort. He takes his precious time, savouring each second that passes between as he loosens the clasps of your pants and helps bring them down your legs with utmost caution.

As each layer of clothing is finally peeled off, a wave of relief and peace washes over you. Minghao sets your clothing neatly away before returning to your side and bringing you closer to the tub. He lets his arms wrap around you, carefully lifting you from the wheelchair and guiding you towards the edge of the bathtub. Sticking a hand in the water to ensure its a good temperature, he slowly but surely eases you into the bath, the water and lavender aroma embracing your body as you sink deeper inside the tub. 

“Does it feel good?” he asks you while lathering the bubbles onto your shoulders.

A sigh escapes your lips as you lean your back against the tub with the bubbles tickling against your skin.

“Mhm,” You let out quietly. “Thank... thank you.” Thank you for taking care of me; I wish I could give you all the care back.

Minghao hums softly, planting a kiss to the top of your head, and retrieves a nearby sponge. Sitting himself down at the edge of the tub, he dips the sponge into the water before lightly caressing over your skin. He starts with your shoulders, washing your skin with a smooth pace and various patterns, helping to gradually ease away the tension to your body.

“Relax, love,” he tells you. “Let me take care of you.”

And so you let your eyes flutter to a close. It felt relaxing to do so𑁋to let go. It almost makes the pain in your head go away. 

You watch the steam rise from the untouched bowl of rice porridge in front of you. It takes Minghao a few minutes later to come back with his own bowl, along with a few side dishes in hand. He glances towards you and notices your empty expression, a tinge of sadness to your eyes that brings a heavy weight to his chest, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. Reaching over, he takes your metal spoon in his hand and dips it in the bowl, grabbing a spoonful of the porridge.

“It’s important for you to eat, love.” Minghao blows on the spoon, cooling down the porridge before bringing it to your lips. The illness hasn’t been much cooperative to your appetite, and eating has been a daunting task for the past few months. He prepares you light foods that doesn’t take much strength to swallow, but enough to nourish you at the same time.

Parting your lips slightly, Minghao feeds you the spoonful of porridge, and you immediately relish in the warmth coursing through you. A small smile crosses your face at the familiar taste of comfort, and it even makes Minghao’s worried face soften. He continues to feed you, spoonful by spoonful, his eyes never leaving yours while taking in every detail𑁋the way your eyes flutter close after each bite, the way the faint smile to your face grows every so slightly, but enough for him to notice. It’s a big change to see, according to him. 

“Tastes good.” You murmur under your breath, looking up at him.

The weariness fades off your face just minisculely. Minghao manages a gentle smile, barely noticing his own food going cold as he continues to feed you. 

There’s a certain silence that you love with him𑁋it’s a domestic silence, especially after being together for four years, where you love observing him doing his everyday routine. But gosh, you miss the times when you were able to hold him in your own arms, or when you could wrap your arms around him in a tight back hug while he cooked, or sneak kisses to his cheek and run away before he would tackle you back into the bed. You miss the times when he’d let you hold him so he could listen to you read, or when you both sat across from each other having your late night doodling sessions. 

You miss all those times, and there’s no way to get them back.

“I was thinking...” Minghao comes back to sit down after setting the dishes away. “...if you wanted to go on a little getaway for the day?”

You look up at him dazedly. “A... getaway?”

“You’ve mentioned wanting to go the beach before,” he inputs, and you see his face up to your idea. “and I think it would be nice to get some fresh air, would you say so?”

He really does remember all the things about you. 

A flicker of hesitation crosses your mind, yet the longing for a change of scenery, a temporary escape from the walls that confine you, helps to wash away any doubts.

You used to dream about running through the white sand beach, feeling the heat of the sun on your skin and the cool breeze caress your face while listening to the calming sound of the waves crashing against the shore. You dreamed of you and Minghao’s laughter mingling into the fresh, afternoon air, your hands intertwined together as you dash down the shoreline together. 

Ever since you were a kid, you dreamed of the beach being the place where you would marry the love of your life, because the sight of the sun setting in the horizon, the soft sand beneath your feet, and the vastness of the ocean waters as you kissed your partner was a fairytale you wanted to experience.

And ever since before your diagnosis and still to this day, you dream of the beach being the place where you would marry Minghao.

Now, it entirely feels like a distant memory now, something beyond unattainable, but the thought of simply seeing it with your eyes brings some form of hope back to your tired heart. 

So you look back up at Minghao as a very faint sparkle of eagerness passes through your eyes. 

The winter season paints the world with a palette of muted colours. The once vibrancy of the ocean waters fades into a pale blue-grey like the cloudy skies above, and the emptiness allows the beach to unfold in its truest form. The waves aren’t too strong or too weak, but roll in gently onto the shoreline with their white foam brushing against the sand before receding back into the vast waters. 

As you and Minghao stroll down towards the beach, you find small patches of snow in the grass and bushes. The air is crisp and chilly, but you don't mind the cold. You find yourself dressed in a comfortable and cozy turtleneck, along with a snug coat to protect you from the winter chill. Minghao had insisted on picking an outfit since dressing you up𑁋and making sure all the colours work well with each other𑁋has always been one of his favourite activities to do. 

There’s a ramp that you go down before finally arriving onto the sandy grounds. The wheels of the wheelchair sinks into the slightly damp sand as Minghao pushes you closer towards the water. He's used to assisting you with mobility the past two years, and he does it with such grace and care that it has practically become a second nature for him.

The beach appears desolate, but seeing it so untouched and undisturbed makes the experience far more peaceful.

Minghao stops the wheelchair at a comfortable distance from the water's edge before kneeling beside you. His ears are slightly reddened from the cold, even with the protection of his own turtle neck and long scarf, but his gaze in the direction of the water is filled with warmth and pure awe. 

He turns to reach for your hand on your lap and intertwines his fingers with yours, before turning back to the sight of the sky meeting the sea. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks.

“It’s...” If you could, if your body gave you the benefit of the doubt for one single moment, you would say everything coming from your heart𑁋how the word beautiful is just a small word compared to the real floating feeling that it gives you. “...beautiful.”

The word feels lackluster, but it's all you can manage to say, and Minghao's warm smile is all that you need to back you up.

He turns back towards you, hesitation in his words. “Do you want to stand closer to the water?”

You peer at Minghao with hesitation and uncertainty. Standing now took... more strength than usual as of lately, and it pains you to admit it. But the thought of being able to stand near the water, to be able to stand on the world that fills your dreams at night was more than tempting. You can barely remember the last time you were able to go to the beach; it was more than possible that it was way before the diagnosis of your illness.

But what if this could be your only opportunity?

And so you muster a small nod towards Minghao. “Help... me stand?”

Minghao only nods. He moves behind the wheelchair and locks the brakes so that it won't move while he helps you stand. With nothing but caution, he wraps an arm around your waist and one under your knees as you slowly rise from the wheelchair, your legs trembling from the use of all your strength as you lean against Minghao for balance. It felt... strange to be able to stand like this again, even if it was just for a few short minutes, almost like a sensation you have nearly forgotten. 

His arm tightens around your waist as he guides you to take your first step, leading you closer to the shore. Each step felt like an ardous journey. You basically can hear the loud protests of your own body telling you to stop. 

“You’re doing great,” he tells you, and his words bring you some heightened determination.

Even with each passing moment and your body slowly but surely taking all its effort to remain you upright, you don’t let the thought dampen your persistence. 

When you finally reach the line where the tip of your shoe reaches the edge, the ocean stretches out before you as if holding countless stories of joy, sadness, and everything in between within its deep, mysterious depths.

Minghao still has an arm wrapped around you, but his eyes are directed into yours, both tenderly and admiringly. 

"You did it," he assures you. "You're standing by the ocean.”

A bittersweet smile crosses your lips, a smile warm but with a hint of sadness. You feel the heat growing in your eyelids as you let a few streams of tears to flow down your face, never thinking that such a vast space would become your safe haven. Minghao leans in to press a loving kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

You feel like you’re floating in that moment, suspended between that of reality and a dream. The weariness that lingers in your bones is briefly forgotten about, and you relish in the feeling of standing tall after so much time. 

But as you continue standing, you feel the weakness descend upon you. The exhaustion surrounds you like a dense fog, clouding your mind and eating away at your energy. You try to keep your focus on the calmness of the ocean ahead, but you feel a certain heaviness to your eyes, making it difficult for you to keep them open. 

And the world around you starts to blur.

Minghao is speaking. He’s speaking but you can’t make out any words because of the ringing in your ears that was growing louder each second and drowning out his voice which was the only thing fucking powerful enough to keep you even remotely grounded𑁋

“Y/N, stay with me. Can you... hear...”

No, I can’t hear you. You’re fading away... I’m the one who is fading away.

“Hao...” is all you manage to mumble out in a hushed, weak whisper.

The last thing you remember is the feeling of his arms around you and his voice desperately calling out your name before all you could see is black.

It takes a lot for Minghao to break.

But seeing you in this hospital bed right next to him, with your skin more fragile than ever and your body laying unconsciously still, he feels each individual piece of his heart shatter by the passing minute and his chest grow heavy. The doctors predicted for you to have woken up two hours ago, but... you haven’t done so.

He doesn’t know what to feel, and it almost feels like each breath he takes only suffocates him even more, and being confined in the walls of the hospital room had been no help. Maybe it’s anguish, fear, guilt, or even anger. Perhaps it was all of the above.

Minghao's hands tremble as he clenches them into fists, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. He wants to scream, but he restrains himself, and he’s been oddly good at doing so.

If only you knew all the times he had desperately tried to fight back tears knowing that one day, you won’t be waking up next to him anymore𑁋that you won’t wake up at all. Or the times he had fought back anger to hide away just how much he wants to yell at the universe for cursing you with such a damned illness. 

As he continues to anxiously pace around the room, a soft knock to the door makes him halt. A man enters into the room𑁋the doctor𑁋with a solemn expression to his face. He glances towards your unconscious body on the bed, before turning back towards Minghao.

“Comparing the results of some tests and a previous medical check-up,” The man takes a noticeable deep breath. “I’m afraid that the disease has progressed its way into their brain, and it’s hard to tell as of now when they will regain consciousness.”

Minghao's body freezes at the doctor's words, and he feels something in his chest tugging painfully at the strings of his heart. The room grows silent aside for the sound of his racing heartbeat pounding in his ears, and the rhythmic beating of the heart monitor. 

He means... that you knew all along?

The weight of it all crashes over him like a wave at high tide, and he loosens the grip he has to his fists. He swears that the ground beneath him was crumbling now as he gets himself to run back to your side and bring the hands of your lifeless form into his trembling ones. 

“Why didn't you tell me?" he whispers shakily, but his question hangs unanswered in the air. “Dammit, Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”

He feels the anger inside of him now, but he isn’t angry at you. He’s angry at himself. He clutches at your hands tightly, his grip almost desperate with his fingers running over your knuckles. Minghao's eyes scan frantically over your face, pleading for some type of response, for any sign that you can hear him. But the silence in the room remains unchanged.

Minghao presses his quivering lips against your hand, a river of tears spilling down his face. He blames himself for not seeing the signs. He blames himself for the pain you’ve went through. All he wanted to do was bring you to a place of happiness for just a single day, but it all went downhill, and he blames no one else but himself. 

It takes a lot for Minghao to break, but not when it comes to you.

“I’ll beat you to it, Hao!”

Minghao doesn’t race after you, instead he watches with a grin to his face as you dash excitedly in the direction of the ocean water, nearly tripping in the sand in the process. The waves were calm as they crash lightly against the shoreline.  It wasn’t much cloudy than before, and the air was still as chilly as the previous days, but for some reason it felt refreshing as ever to breathe in the wintry air and a perfect time to take a stroll near the waters. 

He slowly makes his way down to the beach, hands in his pockets as he watches you stop at the edge of where the water rolls into the sand. You turn around to face him, a pout to your face that makes him chuckle to himself. 

“You’re such a slowpoke!” You exclaim to him.

When he finally makes his way right next to you, you both look out at the waters together.

“We both know I would’ve beaten you anyways.” Minghao mutters, and he hears you release an annoyed scoff. 

You turn towards him, a teasing smirk to your face. “Care to prove it?”

He raises an eyebrow as if contemplating your words for a moment. But with a sudden burst of energy, he takes off running, leaving you behind in the sand. Nothing but laughter leaves you as you follow after him, calling out his name for him to slow the heck down with your feet sinking into the softened sand with each step you took. 

It takes some time of more chasing before Minghao finally stops in front of the water. When you arrive next to him, breaths shallow and unsteady from all the running, he quickly circles his arms around your waist like a tender cocoon, pulling you into a loving back hug. 

Minghao rests his head comfortingly on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling against the skin of your neck. His touch immediately makes you lean into him, both of your gazes looking straight in the direction of the endless ocean waters. Time seems to stand still, where all the worries of the outside world melt away with each wave that comes in. It's just the two of you together, and no one else.

“I love you.” The words leave his lips like a hushed promise, even though it was only the two of you standing together. “You know that, right?”

"I know," You reply, voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too, Hao.”

As the words suspend quietly in the chilly air, a wistful breeze sweeps over the beach.

“You know I’ve always wanted to get married at the beach?”

Minghao tilts his head slightly, a soft, somewhat playful smile playing on his lips as he gazes into your eyes wonderingly.

“Is that so?” he hums. “Guess this is where we’re going to get married, then.”

You couldn’t tell if it was excitement or surprise that was raging through you. He said it so casually that it nearly makes your entire body go limp in his arms, your heart fluttering and swelling out of your chest. 

“Wow, I... I didn’t expect you to say that so easily.” You stammer out your words.

Minghao just chuckles, placing a kiss to the temple of your head. “If that’s what you want, then I promise to make it happen, love.”

You feel the smile bloom onto your face as you bring your eyes back out to the waters again. You feel him rocking you back and forth in his hold, swaying your bodies aside the small waves that come washing onto the shore. But as he continues to hold you and you notice the waves coming in heavier, the smile to your face slowly begins to fade away.

Turning around to face him, you get yourself to light up your face once more.

“Close your eyes,” You tell him, letting your fingers play with his hair flying in the breeze. “Can you do that for me?”

Minghao gives you an odd look, before complying and letting his eyes fall to a close. He feels you release yourself from his grasp until he was holding nothing, which he brings his arms back down to his side. He shivers from a sudden breeze running past him as the anticipation courses through his veins.

Seconds turn into minutes, and all Minghao can hear is the waves beginning to crash louder against the sand. But amidst the sound of nature taking its course, there's silence from you. He doesn’t hear any signs of movement, any noise that can indicate that it was you. He hears nothing.

“Y/N?” he calls out once, twice, three times. “Y/N!”

And when he finally prys open his eyes, he’s met with nothing. All he could see was the seemingly endless beach and ocean stretching out before him in all directions possible. He calls out your name again in desperation, panic, fear, but he doesn’t earn any response, feeling the tears brim in his eyes once more as he sinks to his knees in the sand.

You’re gone.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen​ @haowrld​ @ylliris-hanniehae​ @icyminghao @slytherinshua​

[gyu-effect]

Actually in line with my request for advice on relationships, if your requests are open, may I please request something sweet involving getting back together after a breakup, with a plan to make things work - so that I can cry and enjoy the fictional delusion instead? Dealers choice on which member

PAIRING || Minghao x Female Reader

GENRES || Angst

WARNINGS || none

WORD COUNT || 0.6k

A/N || i'm genuinely so sorry this took me so much time TT i really thought i would be able to do it quickly but i really wanted to answer your other ask as nicely as i could and publish this at the same time so thats why it took me so much time TT im so so sorry but i hope you enjoy this. i chose minghao cus idk...he seemed to resemble your ex and i hope this is to your liking

TAGLIST || ​@romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @amethyistheart @mirxzii [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

[21:13]

“you came.”

that was the first words that came out of your boyfriend, no ex boyfriend’s lips. no hi, no hello, no how are you doing. just…’you came’, straight to the point.

but you were used to that. you were used to xu minghao being straightforward and clear cut about what he wanted and what he was doing. and surprisingly, that was exactly what you loved about him.

or at least, had loved about him.

but now as you stared back at him resolutely, balling your hands into a fist as it snowed around the two of you, you could feel your entire will power crumbling as he looked at you with regret. 

no, no, y/n! you promised yourself-

“i- i thought you might not-”

“yeah i wasn’t going to.” you cut him off before he could complete his sentence. it was a lie, a very blatant lie but it was better to say that than for him to see the tears that were now beginning to sting your eyes.

“right.” he muttered, looking crestfallen. for the first time since you had met him, you noticed that he looked thinner than he used to be, with dark circles underneath his eyes. he almost looked like he had been going through a rough time himself. and somehow that made your heart clench more painfully. “i deserve that. i’m sorry.”

“i wasn’t-”

“y/n.” he cut you off, taking a step closer to you. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

you gulped. “why are you sorry?”

tentatively, minghao reached out for your hands and you let him take them, letting the wall you had managed to build crumble away. “i’m sorry because- because it’s my fault that we broke up. i acted so nonchalantly in the relationship-”

“what do you want?” you asked, your voice now trembling very obviously. you were tired of pretending around him, tired of pretending that you were fine about the break up when in reality it had torn you apart. 

minghao’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of your glossy eyes and he moved in even more closer. “when i was away from you, i realised that-” he gulped, “i realised that i- i really missed you. and i missed how much you always took care of me and how you were always beside me. i missed you so much, y/n.”

“why now?” you whispered, causing minghao to shake his head, as he gently brushed away the tear that had fallen down your cheek. “why now, hao? it- it hurt me so much, you know.”

“i- i know, love. i’m so, so sorry. i just didn’t have the courage after that…i’m sorry i’m such a coward.” saying that he took a step back, dropping your hands. “and i’ll understand and respect your decision if you want me to stay away from you. but y/n, i just wanted to tell you that…i love you. i really, really love you. i’ve hurt you and i’ve broken your heart and i’ll- i’ll try my level best to make up for everything i’ve done and i really love you so much y/n. but i understand if you don’t want to get back with me-”

even before he could complete his sentence, you flung your arms around his neck, engulfing him in a hug. minghao immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in even more closer as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, tears flowing down freely now.

“you idiot. you idiot.” you sobbed. “i hate you, hate you, hate you so much! i loved you so much hao, i love you so much.”

“i’m sorry.” he muttered, gently rubbing circles on your back. “i’m so sorry love.” then gently pulling you back slightly so that you could see each other, he said, “i’ll never let you go now. i promise.” he looked at you with such sincere eyes that you found yourself believing all his words. “you better.”

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

[jae-bummer]

Blocked Contacts

Request: can you please do #15 with a protective hao? like he gets snarky with the ex and drops his funny one liners. thank yooou! :)

Prompt:

15) You and your bias run into your ex.

Pairing: Seventeen The8 x Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst

TW: Ex repeatedly contacting Y/N and showing up at their apartment.

.

Days off with Minghao were few and far between. With your opposing schedules and general life responsibilities, it was seldom you were both sharing your small apartment at the same time. When days free of responsibilities presented themselves, it was usually a gift.

Today, however, was not.

Cursing to yourself, you shut your laptop and pushed it away. You knew a disgusted expression was plain on your face as you looked up to Minghao who was casually eating his morning yogurt.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he said calmly, dragging his spoon along the bottom of the container.

"I don't know," you sighed, dropping your face into your palms.

He remained silent, the sound of metal hitting glass the only thing in the kitchen.

"If I do, I'm worried I'll get mad, and honestly, I don't want to waste that energy on him," you grumbled.

"Him?" Hao asked, trying to keep his tone casual, but you knew his curiosity had been piqued.

"My ex," you muttered, finally lifting your head. "THE ex."

"Ah," he hummed, looking back to his food. "What's he up to?"

"No idea, but he tried to message me."

"Sudden shortage of children to steal candy from?" he smirked. "Absolutely no puppies left to kick?"

"Hao," you chuckled, shaking your head. "He's not a cartoon villain."

"Forgive me, love," he sighed, leaning over to kiss you on the temple. Moving toward the sink, he dropped his spoon and spun back to face you. "But I've never met the man, so I have to go off of what you've told me."

"I hadn't realized I was giving such glowing reviews," you mused.

"Come here," Hao grinned, extending his arms, complete with grabby hands.

Narrowing your eyes at him, it took only a moment to give in. Shuffling over, you slid against his thin frame, and wrapped your arms around his waist. Nuzzling into his chest, you let out a content sigh as he rested his arms on your shoulders.

He kissed your scalp before setting his chin there. "Why are you so bothered?"

"Why aren't you?"

Hao had never been particularly jealous. He was confident in who he was, as well as your feelings for him. In his head, he had nothing to worry about, so why let an emotion as petty as jealousy creep in when he could keep it locked down?

That being said, he was human, and had gone off of his peaceful rails on occasion. This mostly happened when it came to your attention. If someone was actively trying to take away your time with him, he would have a problem with it. You were his. He had no patience for anyone who acted adversely to that.

"If I was bothered by every man who sought out to contact you, I would be incessantly grumpy," he hummed. You could hear the smile in his voice. "And at this point, I'd likely want nothing to do with any of my members and I'd be planning their demise right now."

"I kind of assumed you were planning one of their impending dooms at any given time," you teased.

"Now who's the cartoon villain?"

..

*DING*

*DING*

*DINGDING*

*DINGDINGDINGDING*

"Y/N," Minghao sighed, looking over his shoulder at you.

"Oh, so the noise is bothersome?" you laughed, dropping your phone on the coffee table. "I thought you had lost your hearing."

Pausing the program he was watching, Hao pivoted himself to face you instead of the television. "I know this is a novel idea, but have you heard of manner mode?"

"I know this is a novel idea, but have you heard of me not giving a shit?" you smirked. Pointing to your phone accusingly, you added. "Plus, I'm not the problem here."

"Well, you have my attention now," he accepted. "What's up?"

"I didn't respond to the message I got this morning," you reported. "So, homie apparently got ahold of my number somehow."

"Then block him."

"You, my love, are a genius," you beamed. "But don't you think I did that?"

Minghao rolled his eyes before scooting closer to you and picking up your phone. His face immediately warped with shock. "What is this?"

"All of the numbers he's created to contact me," you continued. "There's been at least ten at this point."

"Who does that?" he gasped, scrolling up and down. Clicking into a message, he began to read. "Why can't we just talk, Y/N? It's been so long. I've changed."

"Apparently not enough to realize I don't want to talk to him," you muttered, crossing your arms.

"Maybe it's time we start locking down you phone," Hao sighed, placing your phone back down as it continued to vibrate.

"Locking down my phone?" you asked, furrowing your brow.

Minghao pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "Yeah, it's common amongst idols. If someone isn't in your contacts, your phone simply will not allow them to call you."

"What about doctor's appointments?" you questioned, feeling increasingly nauseous about the new security suggestion. "Or if someone gets a new number? What am I supposed to do then? I don't have a manager to handle those types of things, Hao."

"I know," he groaned. "It was just a thought."

"Why should I have to change my life because he's an asshole?" you grumbled. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Short of what?" Hao chuckled, obviously frustrated. You hated that you were making this a problem for him too. Hated even more that you knew he wanted to protect you but didn't quite know how. "What do you want me to do? Hunt him down and beat some sense into his brainless head?"

"I mean, that wouldn't be entirely unappealing," you joked.

"Right," he deadpanned. "Your old boyfriend is a psychopath, and your new boyfriend is in jail for assault."

"You pretty much have a built-in gang," you grinned. "Surely at least Mingyu would be down to-"

"Y/N."

"Kidding!" you gasped, winding your body around his. "I just want him to go away."

Hao immediately melted into you, always the first to comfort when things were going sideways. "Want to order take out and forget outside communication exists?"

"That sounds lovely," you sighed. "I'll close my eyes and let you hide my phone."

"Perfect," he smiled. "No promises that I'll remember where I put it though."

"Even better."

...

You wiggled from side to side on the couch, contentment flooding through your bones. Minghao had wrapped you up in one of your softest blankets and put on one of your favorite reality shows before cuddling beside you. "I'm not sure why you watch this."

"And yet here you are," you hummed. "Brain rotting beside mine."

"I do it because I love you," he sighed. "But also, who is that? And why is the other girl yelling at him?"

"I can restart the episode, Hao," you laughed.

"No, no," he muttered, crossing his arms. He was quiet for a moment before he furrowed his brows. "Why would she do that?"

"Okay, I'm restarting-"

*Buzzzzzz* *Buzz Buzz*

"Is that the food?" you gasped, whipping your head toward your boyfriend. He grinned back before springing up.

"My food," he cackled. "Who said I was sharing?"

"Hao!" you gasped.

Giggling to himself, he began unlocking the handful of locks on the door before pulling it open. Swinging yourself around, you peeked over the back of the couch, eager to see what he had picked. Instead, you were surprised when he kept the door cracked and angled himself to hide whoever was on the other side.

"Well," you heard him say calmly. "This isn't my delivery."

"Who are you?"

If you hadn't continued breathing, you would have assumed your heart stopped. How had he found you? Better yet, how did he find the audacity to show up to where you lived with your new partner?

"I'm the person who lives here," Hao said slowly. "Do you have my chicken order or no?"

You knew that Hao was fully aware of what your ex-boyfriend looked like. He was simply toying with him at this point.

"Where's Y/N?"

You felt dizzy with anxiety. Why would he show up here? Sure, he was a supreme jerk when you had dated, but you never thought him capable of his behavior today.

"Who?" Hao asked, his voice all innocence. If you weren't hiding in the living room, fearing for your life, you would kiss him.

"I know they're here, man," your ex insisted. "Just let me see them."

"I have no idea who you're talking about," Hao said plainly. "They have a pretty name though."

If you were in better spirits, you would have giggled.

"Just-" you heard your ex begin to struggle as if he was attempting to move Hao out of the way, but your boyfriend stood firm.

"I would think before trying that again," Minghao said quietly, his tone venomous.

"I just..." your ex trailed helplessly. "I messed up. I want to make it right. I took time and realized that I really love Y/N."

"What's your name?" Hao asked, tilting his head.

"Jae," your ex said quietly.

"Funny," Minghao hmphed. "I haven't heard your name leave their lips. Not once. Plenty of other things though, my name included. Mostly in the dead of night, often loud enough for the neighbors to hear."

"So they're here?" Jae perked up.

You could hear Minghao sigh in defeat. Clearly, the bone head wasn't listening to him.

"They must have forgotten all about you," he said slowly. "Pity."

Backing away from the door, Hao slowly began to shut it. "I'll make one thing clear, so if you're going to clean the shit out of your ears and listen, now is the time. If you're not off my doorstep by the time my food delivery gets here, I will be calling the police.

And if you don't stop contacting Y/N, I'll make sure you'll have bigger problems than getting arrested."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I don't know what you mean," Hao said lightly, the door only open a few inches now.

"You just said-"

"You must have misheard," Hao sighed. "Anyways, tata, have a nice day."

Slamming the door and locking it immediately, Hao spun to look at you. "Baby?"

Having ducked back onto the couch, you tried to reclaim any semblance of calm. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Taking a deep breath, you popped up again and attempted a smile. "I think so?"

"I'm sorry," Hao said, immediately crossing the room toward you. Pulling your face toward his torso, he hugged your head while you were still sitting.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" you asked, looking up at him. He had done so much for you in the past day, let alone since you had been together. You didn't know if you could possibly love him any more than you did in this moment.

"That was the last thing I wanted you to have to experience," he sighed. You could tell the exchange had shaken him up more than he wanted to admit.

"Well," you said, looking up at him through your lashes. "You were extremely hot."

"Was I?" he chirped, tilting his head.

"Being assertive suites you," you grinned.

"Unfortunate," he hummed. "Because I wasn't a fan."

"That's fine," you said happily, burying your face into his stomach. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

[shuaraes]

we shouldn’t have ended like this | x.mh

- leave your message after the beep

oneshot | 1.3k | exes! au | angst

it’s three am and xu minghao has never felt more lonely in life. drunk on melancholy and emptiness, he ruminates on your relationship and regrets the way you both had ended. even though it’s late at night, minghao tries to rewrite his wrongdoings because deep down he knows a part of you still loves him.

~ paring . xu minghao x gender-neutral!reader

~ content . exes (to lovers???)! au, non idol! au, miscommunication- no even lack of communication,

~ tw . mentions of alcohol, vague mentions of sex

~ song rec . only ones we know - arctic monkeys

~ author’s note . the idea for this was adapted from some of my poetry. my prose is still a bit rusty but i hope this is decent enough! happy christmas to those who celebrate, and to those who don’t hope you have a great day, happy reading! 🫶

MINGHAO’S BED IS EMPTY.

It has been for the past year, yet he can’t wrap his head around it. He lies down on the navy sheets of his queen-sized bed and reaches out to the other side. For some reason he expects it to be warm to the touch: he is met with only coolness. Not cool in the way a sip of water after a mint is or the rush of the winter wind not blocked by fabric. The coolness is like a ghost: the phantom of you that haunts every part of his dwelling.

The walls mourn for your presence, whispering your name, muted pleas into Minghao’s ear. Your name creeps up on him when he least expects it, after the two month-mark, he gave up trying to push you out. ‘It shouldn’t have ended like this,’ the walls call out to him. ‘We shouldn’t have ended like this,’ your last words to him. It shouldn’t have ended like this.

If Minghao squints hard enough, he can still see the imprint of your body, the permanent dent in the mattress where you used to lie. Minghao tries to pretend that just minutes ago, you were engulfed in his sheets, him engulfed in you. He waits for you to fill the dent in the mattress, to mend the hole in his heart.

But you don’t come. And he is alone.

Minghao turns over to face the celling, his jet-black hair falling on his pillow around his head like a halo. His fan spins like a vinyl on a record player from the 60’s. In his head, it’s playing your favourite song. He hums along to the lyrics, you always said he had a good singing voice. This thought almost breaks him.

You broke up with Minghao because you thought you could not love him enough, not knowing your mere presence was more than enough for him. If you were a baby flame, he was a pyromaniac, hand outstretched ready to be burnt. But when it got hard you pushed him away to protect his own feelings, so he became distant and pushed you out. It came to a point where Minghao felt it was like living with a stranger.

When you proposed a breakup, Minghao wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t act like he was either. He stayed deathly silent as you spoke, staring into his mug of tea that had long gone cold. “Fine.” He said as he looked into brown void of his cup (if he looked you in the eye, he would have broke). But with your closing words he knew it was a mistake, you still loved him (he will forever love you). It shouldn’t have ended like this, yet Minghao did nothing to prevent it.

Even after a year, Minghao wonders why he didn’t fight harder. Maybe it’s because, subconsciously, he knew you were too good for him. You deserved someone less cowardly, someone who would never let you go like a children’s balloon, would never let you go so easily. Yet nothing can stop the green-eyed monster of jealousy, waltzing around in her emerald ball gown whenever he hears about you with someone else. Your shared friends give him updates on how you’re doing, but when someone else is mentioned romantically, he shuts out. Trying to piece together why it wasn’t him instead.

Selfishness is a sin - he knows that - but he can’t help from wanting you all to himself. So, he tries to have you in any way he can. He sleeps with your favourite blanket, he washes his clothes with your favourite brand of detergent and in the winter, by the heater, he warms a pair of your house slippers that you never remembered to collect. He searches for you in the bodies of others, the dips in their collarbones and curves of their spines, but of course they cannot compare to you. No one does. If these hook ups amounted to even 1% of what Minghao feels for you, then he wouldn’t complain. But they don’t.

Minghao misses you.

In life, Minghao believes that people only get one chance at true love. He’s scared that he’s used all his luck up on you.

The loss of you gnaws away at him. It wains away at his resolve and destroys any hope for a life away from you. A slow dull pain, it was always in the back of his mind: inescapable though manageable. Minghao didn’t know what was different about tonight, but all he knows is that he has never felt the same about anyone else.

The past kills him. It strangles him, leaving him paralysed with no choice but to face his mistakes. His love for you kills him inside out. It eats away at his psyche until all that is left of him are his feelings for you. It’s three am and all that remains of him is you.

It has always been you.

Fuck it, he picks up his phone off his nightstand and dials your number. Minghao knows he’s not thinking straight, but if he doesn’t at least try to reach you, he will resent himself until the day he dies. The line starts to ring and Minghao holds the phone to his ear with bated breath and clammy hands. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears pounding like a wooden mallet while he waited.

After what felt like eons, the line goes to voicemail. Of course, it did, it’s three am. Minghao feels stupid for thinking you’d pick up. The automated voice reads out the predetermined script to tell him that you can’t answer the phone the right now. It then asks to leave a message if desired. Minghao knows he shouldn’t, he doesn’t care, he loves you.

- Leave your message after the beep - “Hey, it’s Minghao” his voice wavers, it’s obvious he’s nervous. “Call me when you get this.”

Minghao presses the keypad to end the voice message, yet he feels empty. This isn’t closure, this isn’t what he needs. With this alone, in the morning, you’ll probably delete the message and go on with your life.

Minghao is tired of pretending to be rational, hiding his feelings behind a masquerade of poise and nonchalance. He’s going insane because of you, and he needs to let you know, you need to know how much he loves you.

He left another voicemail.

- Leave your message after the beep - “Y/N, I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t blame you. A year of no contact and you get a call from me out of the blue, but for once I’m begging, give me a chance. Listen, I love you. I’ve loved you since the day we first met, since the day we broke up and i think i’m going to love you every day until I die. I don’t think i let it show but you were my endgame, after you i don’t want to love anyone else,”

Minghao could feel himself rambling, his words tumbling from his lips uncontrollably. His heart is a spilled glass of milk, all his soul on display for your critique. He wants to stop himself from speaking but he can’t, so he continues,

“Letting you go so easily was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I should’ve fought for you, and I know it may be too late but I’m doing it now.

Tomorrow let me take you out to dinner, we can dress up nice and get drunk off our heads. Then I’ll order us a taxi back to yours or mine I don’t mind, then we’ll slow dance to that one jazz album you like, and I’ll promise to never push you away. Things won’t be perfect, and we both have a lot to work on, but I don’t care. Everything is perfect enough for me as long as you're by my side. And before you say I’m drunk, trust me I’m not, I’m a bit sleepy but that doesn’t change a thing. I love you so much Y/N.”

Minghao cuts the phone down and the screen fades to his lock screen, a candid photo of you from a year ago that he refused to change. He places his phone on his heart (your home) and falls asleep waiting for it to ring.

[uhdrienne]

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 (𝐱.𝐦𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

💌 feat: idol!minghao x non-celebrity!reader (angst, i almost cried planning this oneshot)

💌 summary: once a dream relationship with the love of your life, now doomed to fail because of the media, you can only hope that minghao will think of you again -- even if it's in your wildest dreams.

💌 word count: 3.25k words

a/n: inspired by taylor swift's 'wildest dreams', bolded and italic words signify the lyrics!

"He said let's get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds..."

You sing the lyrics softly, looking out of the car window.

"Ironic," Your boyfriend chuckles from next to you, eyes trained ahead as he drives on the never-ending road, winding into evermore. "Exactly what we're doing now."

You let out a laugh, leaning your head on the window as he raises your interlinked hands to press a kiss on the back of your hand. "That we are, dear."

The sunset winds into the distance and shines, just the way you like it, and you pull out your camera, letting go of Minghao's hand to snap photos, much to his dismay.

"Hey," He nudges you after you're done admiring the way the oranges and yellows twist and intertwine in all the right places, and holds his hand out again. "Hold."

You pat his cheek affectionately and take his hand.

Thirty minutes later, the same man offers you his arm to hoist you up onto the roof of the van, where he insisted was the most beautiful place on earth.

You lay your head on his shoulder and sigh in content.

The sunset could shine all it wanted, and be the largest and prettiest thing in the sky, but nothing would beat the man who was currently nestled into your side, arms snug around you and smiling with the awe and love of a lifetime.

The photo you take of you two is now framed in your shared house, and your phone next to the photo frame buzzes and lights up.

"Happy two years dear, I love you to the moon and back. Sorry I had to go back to the city, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"Nothing lasts forever... but this is gonna take me down..."

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, Hao, don't be sorry," you cajole. "We'll be okay. What did the company say?"

"They'll be releasing a statement." Minghao sounds half-frustrated, half sad as he paces around, you can hear his footsteps scuffing the floor. "They're trying to do damage control, but the media is already eating it up. People are spreading the photos and I just-- I'm sorry you have to go through this. I know we wanted to keep us private."

"It was going to come out at some point," You sigh. "We both knew that."

"But it shouldn't have happened this way." Minghao counters.

"I know," You murmur, "But don't think too much and worry. We'll be fine. I love you, and I'll see you tonight, okay?"

With the promise of seeing him and spending the night together, you hang up.

Two years is a lot, you tell yourself. He'll stick by you and you'll have the ending you always dreamed of with him.

But along with the consolation came a sense of dread. Were you convincing him or yourself?

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"I can see the end, as it begins, my one..condition..is…"

"Minghao?" Your voice is meek, so scared, soft and vulnerable.

Minghao hates the way the happiness in your voice has disappeared.

"Darling?"

"Th-there's reporters shouting outside," You say, clutching the phone tight as if you could gain comfort from it. "Lots of them with cameras. They... I think you might have been followed home last night. They probably waited for you to leave."

"Shit," he curses. "Wait for me, I'll be right there."

"No!" Your voice cuts through. "You can't. Y-you'll be ambushed. I know how scary the paparazzi can get. I just--"

"Baby," He says, tears welling up in his eyes, because you’re right. He would be torn to shreds. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, a million times over. You don't deserve any of this, I-"

"No more of that," You whisper, and he goes quiet. "I love you. All I need is you. If this is what we must go through for me to be with you... so be it."

"I love you," he chokes out through a haze of tears and anguish. "I love you so, so, much, you have no idea."

"I love you too, Hao," You reply, and say that you'll hide out for a while so they'll leave before hanging up.

Minghao slumps down and cries like he's never cried before.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"I said, "No one has to know what we do", his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room...And his voice is a familiar sound..."

"Baby!" He races to you, sitting in the living room, still slightly shaken. He engulfs you in a hug. "I'm so sorry, I'll be sorry for the rest of my life..."

"It wasn't your fault," You reply softly, pulling back to cup his face, drawn and blotchy with tears. "Love you lots."

He wipes at your eyes, slightly swollen with your tears, ears still ringing with the shouts and camera clicks, eyes still seeing stars with the flashes as you stepped out to threaten calling the police.

"I love you," He weeps, clutching at the material of your clothes. "Why can't I just love you without other people getting involved?"

And you don't have an answer to that, so you just pull him in and press your mouth to his. It's salty with his tears, and he's shaking, but he hugs you tight, grip firm and unwavering.

He whispers promises into your skin, swears to every higher being that he'll keep you safe, promises that he'll love you for the rest of his life, and no one could keep him away from you, you both were too strong together for that. He tells you things will get better, they have to.

You believe him as you come undone, the tears staining the sheets beneath you.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"And when we've had our very last kiss...my last request...is.."

From that day on, everything changes, as much as you both vow to prevent it from happening.

Kisses are still shared, and movies are watched. His arms wind around you as you go to sleep, but those events are few and far between as he shuttles between you and the city, fulfilling his career.

When he comes home, he's either too tired to do anything, and you're not exactly inclined to ruin the one moment of peace he finally has for him.

What used to be a sanctuary of love and laughter and life, is now just an empty shell. Two people cohabiting in a desperate attempt to keep the flame kindled, huddling together for warmth.

You can feel it, and you know he can, too.

Things haven't gotten easier like he claimed. Your love hasn't dwindled one bit, but the media has only gotten more ferocious, even now hounding your workplace and regular haunts. You're practically confined within the walls of your home, either alone or with Minghao.

No more sunset dates. No more shared giggles under a blanket fort, no more pillow fights as he tackles you. No more late-afternoon cuddles as thin sunlight slants into the room. No more midnight instant noodle sessions. No more of anything. Silence overtakes, and the days drag by.

You know it's bubbling, the frustration, the anger at the media and at the world for being absolute busybodies, at Minghao (you don't know why), and at yourself.

And it's only a matter of time before it boils over.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

You explode in the worst way possible.

It starts when Minghao comes home, looking even more tired than usual. You don’t even look up to greet him anymore as he trudges into the room, simply humming in acknowledgement. The spark in your eyes long gone, your smile feigned.

Perhaps those were the tell-tale signs of a relationship long gone. The spark wasn’t there. None of the previous joy you felt when he came home was there.

Were you falling out of love with him? ..No, that couldn’t be it. You knew you loved him for years, ever since you set eyes on him at an art museum, and you would always love him. Now, you just felt nothing but sadness when you saw him. If it wasn’t love, you would have only felt indifference.

None of you spoke about the reporters. It was like they didn't exist, only you knew it was the opposite, with them clamouring outside, with no reprieve. It was to the point where you had to lock every door and window for fear they would break in. Yet, both of you avoided the topic like a taboo, while it loomed over your bond like a dark cloud.

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t that you wanted this relationship to end, it was more like… you just knew it would.

What you had with Minghao would not end well. It would only end.

“Hey,” He speaks for the first time since coming home. “How was your day?”

“Nothing much,” You reply, and the kitchen goes silent.

He knew your day was nothing much. He knew why it was nothing much too. You couldn’t even go out without being mobbed by shouting reporters and blinding cameras. How well could your day have went?

“Dinner?” You ask, and he shrugs. “Sure.”

It was sad, really, you note, how quickly a conversation could end. So pitiful that a couple of over two years, who always never had enough to say to each other, had nothing to say now.

You finish dinner in silence, only the clinking of cutlery to fill in the vacancy of your voices.

After dinner he walks to the living room and you to your phone. You open up the three messages that have appeared to view them, but let out a shriek and throw your phone on the couch next to Minghao.

He raises his eyebrows at you in confusion and picks your phone up when you look back at him, eyes wide in panic.

His eyes widen the same way when he sees the graphic content of the message, the threat of the malicious sender reverberating through his mind.

“This— you…” He trails off.

“Is-is that a knife?!” You yelp. “This person just sent me a photo of a knife and threatened to kill me!”

“Baby, wait—” Minghao gets up and reaches for you, but you shrink back. “D-don’t.”

His jaw tightens as he registers the fact that you’re afraid of him. That a devil hiding behind a screen was enough to scare you away from him, the person who loved you to the ends of the earth.

“Okay.” He steps back. “Please…don’t be scared of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Not you,” was your only whisper.

He furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“Not you,” You speak up, slightly louder than before. “Just… the fact that the rumour is out, the media at our door… we no longer have anything to say to each other… it hurts me beyond what you know.”

“I’m trying, love,” Minghao says, quietly.

“I know you are,” You reply. “Like I said, it’s not your fault.”

“But you’re hurt,” Minghao protests. “I’m hurt too, you know? I can’t even bring you out, let you live a normal life and be with you as I want. It’s not fair to me, either.”

“Nothing was fair from the moment the articles broke,” You reply softly, tears coming to your eyes. “That what we have is seen like…a mistake. A sin. That you, just loving someone, is the greatest wrongdoing. That reporters found the need to stay at our door just for pictures of us. That someone found the need to threaten to kill me.”

“That’s not fair,” Minghao protests again, tears welling up too. “You’re not the only one suffering here. I am too! My career, my relationship, all of that shoved into the limelight. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I don’t,” You answer. “I know I will never fully understand your situation. All I’m asking is…can’t we just—”

“Pretend nothing happened? Go on with this?” Minghao’s voice cracks. “You don’t want that. You do not. We can’t.”

“Why not?” You ask.

“Because nothing will ever be the same! Nothing we do can let us go back to before. You are hurt and stuck here, I am done for, we are now shackled here—”

“Shackled?” You ask quietly. “Is this what it is?”

“No, I—”

“I think I’ve known for a while,” You say. “That it’s not ‘if’ we will end, it’s when we will.”

“W-What?”

“There isn’t anything there anymore, Hao,” You throw your hands up. “Hell, we don’t even have anything to say to each other!”

“What can I say?! That my career is half ruined, my relationship dying away, my fans threatening to end us both?!”

You turn away, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “You should go, Minghao. I...I don’t want to keep you here if you don’t want to be. I'm so sorry...”

"Why won't you fight for us?" His voice is a deathly whisper.

"What?"

"Why... I know it's hard but... why-why are you giving up?"

"Giving up...?"

"You gave up on us." He breaks into a sob. "We don't talk because every time I look at you, I can't help but keep thinking about how much better your life could have been. You could go on sunset drives whenever you want. You could have spent night after night in blanket forts without a care in the damn world, without worrying that one day someone's going to break the door down and do something to you. You-"

"Thinking like that was always meaningless without you, Hao," You let out a humourless laugh. "All I wanted to do those things with was you."

"We can still do it all," He says, striding towards you. "I told you. I won't leave you."

"But you have to." You murmur back. "I've seen the reports. You're one of the highest-rising stars now. You're worlds away from where I am. And just being me, being bombarded with attention like this, attention I don't want, day in and day out, it... it suffocates me."

"So that's it?" He asks dejectedly. "You don't want me anymore?"

"I do want you, it's all I want," You try to gesture, try to tell him what you mean, but he shakes his head.

"You used to say that with so much life. Now... it's like a stranger telling me that." You look at him, eyes pleading, tears spilling over.

He takes a step back, eyes scanning you like it's the last time he'll see you. "I'm so, so sorry I put you through this. I-I'll go. I'll go now."

He comes forward and cups your face. He leans in, and kisses your forehead. The delicate action and gentleness of it all, combined with the salty tang of his tears, makes you tear up again.

“Say you remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe…”

You register the front door closing behind him. He’s gone, and God knows if he’ll ever return.

That night, you turn off the lights, make sure the windows are closed, but you leave the wooden door unlocked. You never locked it when he hadn’t come back.

You tuck yourself in, the way you like it, the way Minghao does it, and fall into a fitful sleep, the last words you uttered to each other ringing in your head.

When you wake up the next morning, Minghao hasn’t come back.

Something just tells you he won’t return this time.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

“Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you’ll see me again…” The tinny sound from the aged record player plays, prompting you to hum along to the tune.

“XU MINGHAO, singer, makes record-breaking return to the stage, set to perform...”

“Three years on — where is XU MINGHAO’s mysterious ex-partner now?”

“Woman spotted outside his apartment — liar or lover?”

You close the papers.

You smile. He’s on top of the world, just like he dreamed.

And you… you were just here. Alone, but moderately content, and at peace.

The media had left you alone from the third week that Minghao didn’t return. They probably deemed you less newsworthy, you muse, as you pour yourself another cup of coffee.

You sip coffee as you sift through your mail. You pick up an envelope, and smile at your friend’s invitation to an awards ceremony. Knowing that you were a fan of one of the performing ballad singers, she, as part of the management team, had taken it upon herself to secure you a ticket.

You get up and stretch. It was time to go to the city.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"And now, winning the most prestigious award of the night, the Artist of the Year..." The announcer smiles, stage makeup bold and sparkling against the lights. She steals a look at the card in her hand, takes a deep breath.

"Xu Minghao!"

Your hand flies to your mouth as the big screen shows his face, smiling as he waves, bows, and walks to the stage. You don't look out of place, as just about every fangirl is doing the same. Tears come to your eyes and you blink them away.

He's just as dashing as ever. Decked in a smart suit and jacket to match, with small, sleek hoops in his ears, and lips curved in a charming smile, he accepts the award and addresses the crowd.

"I...I'm beyond honoured to stand here today," His eyes dart about, trying to capture every pair of eyes from his vision. "You know I owe just about everything to my fans, new and old, my family, and my friends who've been with me through everything."

He visibly swallows. "And there's one more person, one really, really special person I want to thank."

He stretches out his hand and smiles as if beckoning to someone, and a beautiful lady hesitantly steps up, dressed in a gorgeous champagne-coloured gown, soft curls in her hair, a bounce in her step.

"She saw me through the darkest period of my life," He says, clutching onto the lady's hand like a lifeline. "From strangers to friends, from friends to lovers, I want her to know she's my day one."

The cameras and fans go wild, everyone clamouring to get a better glimpse as the woman smiles at him, full of adoration like he once used to look at you, and they share an embrace on the stage, the host cutting in to sing praises of the newly hard-launched couple.

Meanwhile, you sit, rooted to your place, as you watch them. But it isn't overwhelming sadness that engulfs you. It isn't any form of bitterness or resentment. The sweet tang of pride, that he can now freely love, and gratitude, that his new love was doing what you failed to, rests on your tongue.

You rise to your feet. As you're in a row closer to the front, it isn't hard to get out. As you walk towards the exit, you glance back one last time, only to have shock rain down on you as he locks eyes with you from the stage.

The shock dies away swiftly, only to be replaced by soft joy. You smile slightly and nod at him once, with nothing but sincerity in your eyes, and watch the relief sag on his shoulders as he smiles and nods back. Even with no words shared, he knows you've both found your ending.

"Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah, huh..."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

writer's note:

first ever oneshot and this was...sad? but also i wrote this in one day and almost decided not to publish it because it was so rough lol

but please enjoy! any feedback and interactions are welcome :> thank you for reading!!

[luvhhannie]

yes or no | x. minghao x reader

𓇢𓆸 synopsis: where jaehyun is forced to be yn’s wingman for mingyu, but unbeknownst to him, mingyu is also getting some help from his friend.

𓇢𓆸 genre: romance, fluff, sprinkle of crack, tiny bit of angst, series

𓇢𓆸 cw: twt/text fic, smau, AOT SPOILERS, non idol au! college au! swearing, anime references, silly drug and alcohol use

𓇢𓆸 a/n: idk what to say but pls enjoy! reblogs and likes are appreciated, and so are feedbacks! <3

𓇢𓆸 taglist (open!): @writingbarnes @90s-belladonna @leewonkyeom @to-mi-yo

masterlist

00:00

00:01

12:00

1 | spidey senses

2 | thirst trap

3 | average baroque enjoyer

4 | your fault

5 | eremika exhibition?

6 | ophelia

7 | judie’s rose toy

8 | HOMOPHOBE ALERT

9 | always the artist, never the muse

10:10

10 | ladybug and chat noir

11 | blast from the past

12 | yves boyfriend girlfriend

13 | judie vs soonyoung (& jun)

14 | dancer beef over

15 | hot pot dinner

16 | deja vu in a frat party?

17 | …

[jeonwonoow]

Chapter 3. A love triangle

warnings: just kissing lol

taglist: @miraes-world @viewvuu

—

"Where do you think are you taking me?" You ask Wonwoo as he drags you out of the building, to the parking lot. He stops but he doesn't let you go, tightening his grip on you even. "Let go of me or I'll scream."

Your threat didn't make him budge a bit. Wonwoo only looked at you, eyebrows a little furrowed. "If I proved to you that I never cheated and I didn't get Yubin pregnant, does it even matter anymore? You seem like you wanna live without knowing the whole truth at this point, Y/N. I'm trying. I still am. You weren't the only one in pain. I never planned - hell, I never even thought about losing you."

You looked down and he slowly let go of your wrist. That action made your heart ache a thousand times more. You wanted him to let go of you but you also wanted him to hold you, and he did the first one. "I chose her because I thought I got her pregnant too. I never chose her because I wanted her. I had you. I only wanted to be with you. But remember? Neither of us didn't want to take away that child's chance to grow up with a family.

"Y/N, I still love you. I never stopped." It's true. He would always ask Soonyoung for help although he never showed up until now because Wonwoo knew you still felt this way, that you'd still react like how you did the first couple of his attempts to apologize. "Tell me, do you still...do you still want me?"

"I don't wanna be a homewrecker, Wonwoo." You gulp, still looking on the ground.

"You didn't answer my question," he says, voice lower. "Say it. To my face." You kept your mouth shut and turned away from him. "Y/N," Wonwoo calls again. "Are you gonna shut me out again?"

"I don't-" your voice cracks and your eyes find the comforting gaze of Myungho who's approaching with Mingyu. "I don't wanna ruin a relationship."

"He wasn't mine. The child. I didn't marry Yubin." You don't know how many times you've heard it from Soonyoung and Hayoon, but hearing it from him squeezed your heart so hard. But you were selfish, too prideful to accept it no matter how sincere Wonwoo sounded. You walked into Myungho's arms as if what Wonwoo said did not matter.

"Why?" Myungho asks softly as he strokes the back of your head, while Mingyu walks up to his friend, giving him a man hug before dragging him away but Wonwoo's eyes don't leave you, taking in the pain seeing you hugging that man whom he thinks owns your heart now.

—

You put Myungho's dress shirt on his desk and sat down with pursed lips. He told you he'll just take it home after you stained it when you cried on his chest but you insisted on washing it yourself.

"Do you feel better, Ma'am?" He asks and you only chuckle at the name.

"Yes, Sir," you answer. "Are we...are we still partnering with ONETech?"

Myungho let out a deep sigh and nodded. "Don't worry. If you're not comfortable, I'll let someone else cover you for our meetings." You respond by shaking your head 'no'. It's a personal problem you have with Wonwoo which you shouldn't take to work.

Myungho gets up and walks to you, taking your hand and making you stand up with him. He puts both hands on your waist and he pulls you closer. If you said you don't get flustered over Myungho, that'd be a lie. "Okay. But if there's anything wrong, tell me." He inches even closer until you both could feel the hotness of each other's breaths. "If it gets heavy for you, then carry it with me. I don't want you getting hurt."

Before you know it, your lips are pressed on his, moving along with his rhythm. And your hands find their way to the back of his head, fingers entangling with his hair. Myungho couldn't stop himself. You couldn't either. The last time you made out with someone, it was Wonwoo. Of course you've fooled around a few times after you two ended but you never let any man kiss you on the lips. You couldn't. But why Myungho?

When Myungho pulled away, you wanted to chase him. Maybe you felt needy. But you came to your senses and stepped back, giving him doe eyes, almost asking what just happened without saying a word. Myungho gave back just the same look and tilted his head before laughing it off when he noticed that you didn't get mad nor were you gonna protest at all. "I'm sorry! I've moved on. I swear."

"We're friends, right?"

"Of course, ma'am."

—

You accidentally push the door close too hard, making your heart pound at the sound. You had to check on the door knob to make sure you didn't damage it, then you turned to rest your back on the door. You just kissed your boss.

Before that scene completely floods your mind, you notice a bouquet of tulips on your desk. But you both just reminded yourselves you're just friends (who just kissed). "Ah! Seo Myungho!"

J. WW

You hated how easy you get overwhelmed by things. It's starting again. Just after kissing your boss-slash-friend, you receive a bouquet from your ex.

—

"Hayoon, I can't," you cry that night, sitting at the porch of Hayoon and Soonyoung's house. "I can't do this. No. I-"

"Calm down," Hayoon gives your thigh a gentle slap. "I thought we'd be too old for boy problems," she laughs. "So, Wonwoo's back in the scene and you're confused about Myungho? I thought you rejected him before?"

"I did. Like, twice, I don't know." You were touching your lips as you spoke, remembering how his soft lips glided with them. "I know we're friends, he knows we're friends. Friends don't kiss on the lips. And- and I feel bad that friends don't."

Hayoon gasps, her other hand covering her mouth and the other pointing at you. "You feel bad because you want more?" You kick the air continuously while covering your face. "You may just be touch-deprived. Don't overthink. You don't like him. I'm team Wonwoo."

"Shut up." You sulk again. "That too. I pushed him away for nothing. I was wrong all this time."

"We've been telling you, Y/N. Wonwoo would never hurt you like that. Yubin was crazy, you should've known she tricked all of us."

All this time, you believed what you first heard. Then you became selfish and prideful. So much that nothing would change your mind and how you feel.

"If...if you were me, would you forgive him? Would you tell him it's all good now? Would you have the guts to face him and say it to his face after shutting him out for so long?" You ask Hayoon and she scoots closer, hugging you from your side.

Hayoon rests her cheek on your shoulder and you feel her nodding. "I'd be so ashamed but knowing Wonwoo, especially if it's you, he'd understand. But it's all up to you. You decide your own pace. Wonwoo is willing to wait until you're ready for him again. Even if it takes three more years, five, ten."

"We'd be old and gray then," you start crying again at the thought. "I hate myself!"

You didn't notice the footsteps approaching as you cried in Hayoon's embrace. Wonwoo leans on a wooden post on the porch with his arms crossed as he watches you. Hayoon only chuckles as she shoo him away with a hand, telling him to get inside. She rolls her eyes when Wonwoo sticks his tongue out and smirks after.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you see are his pair of shoes and the ends of his slacks. You immediately look up and just as fast, you look away while wiping your tears. His smirk morphs into a gentle smile and he walks closer to ruffle your hair before leaving you with Hayoon. It only made you stain the cheeks you just wiped with your tears again.

Wonwoo helped Soonyoung get the table ready while Hayoon walked you into the house, Hyungjun greeted you with a smile while chewing the tail of his stuffed dinosaur which Hayoon immediately took. "Honey, don't bite that."

"Oi!" Soonyoung's loud voice made you turn your head to the dining area.

"You-" you hiss at him. "You're setting us up again, are you?"

"Excuse me? You didn't even give us prior notice!"

"Hey, hey," Wonwoo covers Soonyoung's mouth, stopping him from being too loud while laughing. The scene looked almost like a flashback to whenever you guys gathered at Soonyoung's apartment when you were in college. "Nobody told me you're coming, Y/N. But if you're not comfortable, I can le-"

"No, I- it's okay, Wonu." Everyone turned to you with round eyes and as if on cue, Hyungjun lets out the purest giggle. "Come on! It's just his nickname!"

Only Soonyoung was blabbering stuff during the dinner. Not even Hayoon was talking a lot to support her husband due to the awkwardness.

"How old is Junnie again?" Wonwoo asks, eyes gently fixed at the kid who's been playing with his baby food. "Looks like a mini Soonyoung."

"He's one year old," Soonyoung happily answers but his smile falls when a spoonful of Hyungjun's food comes flying onto his cheek, making all of you laugh except him. "Right, right. Laugh at me, especially you two," the dad squints eyes at you and Wonwoo who are sitting next to each other. "Just wait till you get a baby." Hayoon was quick to kick her husband under the table.

"Crazy," Wonwoo comments and laughs it off awkwardly while looking at you, your lips pursed while you poke on your food with your chopsticks. "Just eat."

—

The end of an episode of the TV show you were watching in their living room after dinner signals you that it's already almost ten in the evening. Soonyoung already went inside their room earlier to put their son to sleep, while Hayoon stayed with you and Wonwoo, talking about stuff from college and what you're busy with at the moment. You just got to know that Wonwoo just came back two months ago from Japan.

"I think I should get going," you lean forward, getting ready to stand up from the couch. The two also get up and walk to the door with you.

"Are you gonna ride the taxi?" Hayoon worriedly asks because you didn't bring your car today. Wonwoo looks at you with worried eyes too. You just nod.

"I'll take care of her then. Thank you for the dinner, Yoonie."

"Mm, you two, send me a message when you're home, okay?"

You walk to the side of the road as soon as Hayoon closes the door. Wonwoo was fast to block you from going any further. "I'll drive you home. It's late, Y/N."

"Why did you send me a bouquet?"

"Just because...? I can't?" Wonwoo raises an eyebrow and your words get stuck on your throat. "Mingyu told me Myungho isn't your boyfriend. So, can I? May I? Y/N?"

"Don't." You frown. Wonwoo gulps and you could almost hear it due to the silence of the night.

—

"Why were you in Japan?" You ask when he started his engine. Wonwoo's surprised you're initiating a conversation.

"Work? What else?"

"Family?" There you go again. You look outside the window and Wonwoo opens it for you. He still remembers how you'd always ask for it whenever you two went on road trips. There was something about the wind whenever you rode as his passenger. It always felt cold yet warm.

He chuckles in disbelief at your question though. "Y/N, I already told you, that kid wasn't mine. Yubin actually got married to the real father of her son." You furrow your eyebrows but you don't look at him. "She was so obsessed with your boyfriend back then that she tricked everyone even though she knew the truth. And your boyfriend was stupid."

After that, the ride went quiet. You're getting eaten by guilt and shame, but Wonwoo seemed okay over all. It didn't matter to him that you did or did not believe him. What matters was that you're with him.

"Where do I drive you to? Did you move out of the flat we shared?" He asks and you nod. Understandable. You had all sorts of memories there.

You lean onto his dashboard, opening his gps on the infotainment system. The map shows he's been driving in the opposite direction and you didn't even tell him until now. "You're trying to spend more time with me now, I see."

"I'm just wasting your gas, dummy."

[hcuyk]

SYNOPSIS : jeonghan loves you. the happier ending to kidult

PAIRING : daycareworker!jeonghan x genderneutral!reader

GENRES : established relationship, daycare au, angst, fluff, features seventeen as children

WARNINGS : mentions of car accident and child neglect

TEASER WORD COUNT : 329

ESTIMATED WORD COUNT : 7-10k

ESTIMATED RELEASE DATE : within the next week. i lied its coming out when i get time cause why tf is my college doing sm

TAGLIST : lmk if you want to be added!

A/N : this is for kidult jeonghan reaching 1k notes. i love you all

K. COLLECTION [Y.JH] ONE | TWO

Tears began to stream down your face, unable to hold them back, and you were thankful Jeonghan missed it, but when you heard him apologize, you turned around and snapped at him.

“What the hell do you even want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“You had two weeks to talk to me!” you yelled, fighting the loudness of the rain. The stream of tears ran faster down your cheeks as you brought a hand to your forehead, shielding the rain from getting into your eyes.

“I tried!”

“By knocking on my door for an hour straight at two in the fucking morning?! You could’ve called! You have a key!”

“Well it’s not like you tried either—”

“I got hit by a car!” you screamed, storming towards him as the sky reflected your mood. The thunder was just as loud as the pounding in your heart, and the rain poured just as much as your tears. You pushed Jeonghan, and behind him you saw a crack of lightning. Your vision started to blur as you didn’t hold back your sobs, wanting to show him the pain he’d inflicted on you ever since he left.

“I got hit by a car, Jeonghan! What about you? Were you hit by a car?! A truck? Perhaps a plane?” You forced out a manic laugh before continuing. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. Let me guess,-”

“Y/N—”

“-mauled by a bear?”

“I can explain-”

“Tell me I’m goddamn overreacting.” You took a step forward, and instead of pushing him again, you stared, making him look at the pain he created. “Tell me I’m overreacting, Hannie. Look me in my eyes and say it loud and clear.”

“I knew you’d be there for me.”

“I missed you, I needed you-”

“I know.”

“The day I lose you is the day I lose myself.”

“I don’t want you to wake up and realize I’m not the one for you. I don’t want that for us.”

hopefully the svt readers see this 😔

[toruro]

— ✧ the letter

i hope one word, one letter, will laugh and cry with you (the letter / ateez)

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

genres. slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l

tags. idol!au, alcohol consumption & underage drinking, lots of arguments, Lots of pent up emotions oops, miscommunication, sorta hot headed reader, minghao is minghao and that is a warning enough

fic playlist.

w/c. 26k

a/n. the smut has been moved to a separate post which can be found here! i had so so so much fun writing this! huge thanks to @gyuswhore bc em literally helped me through every step of the way & sat through me planning & switching around the events of the story a bajillion times, and thank u to @honeyhypen who read over this for me ^-^

ENVELOPE

To: Xu Minghao

“Why are you in my room?” Jun huffs, turning around to look up at you as you stand by his door. In front of him is a massive, yet unfinished LEGO replica of Hogwarts. You frown, glancing at his friend who lays on his bed with a phone up to his face.

He’s Jun’s new friend, and you’ve heard your brother talk about him but this is your first time really seeing Minghao in the flesh. Shaggy hair hangs loose over his dark eyes as he peeks over his phone and glances at Jun, as if to silently ask who you are.

“Dad says dinner is ready,” you tell him, feeling a little timid under the gaze of the new boy. He’s only two years older than you, but the only interaction you get with high schoolers is your brother, so you’re feeling shy. He’s a very nice looking boy, you think to yourself, but try hard not to stare as Minghao uncrosses his legs and sits up on your brother's bed.

Jun’s eyes soften when he notices you standing awkwardly, standing up and pointing at you as he says your name. “My sister—two years younger,” he explains.

“One point five, actually,” you correct him with a roll of your eyes, feeling more comfortable now that Jun is initiating something. Your brother laughs at you and ruffles your hair while Minghao stands up behind him.

“Ya-da, ya-da. You’re still two grades below, so it doesn’t really make a difference. Anyways, this is Minghao,” he says, pointing at his friend behind him who throws you a small smile and wave.

“I know,” you blurt out before you even have a chance to think, heat flushing to your face after you realize what you said and see Minghao give you a funny look. “I-I mean because Jun talks about you a lot,” you clarify, clearing your throat. “Y’know, he doesn’t have a lot of friends so when—”

Jun clamps a hand over your mouth and gently drags you out of the room as Minghao follows behind closely with silent laughter. “That’s enough from you. Watch it, or I’m never letting you talk to my friends again.”

“Friends? I think you mean friend,” you retort, looking back at Minghao who watches the two of you amusedly. “Are you sure you want to be friends with someone so mean to his sist—”

Jun flicks your forehead and you push his chest. “Shut up already! If you scare away all my friends, all I’ll have left is you, and you’ll just have to put up with me all day!”

“You’re right about that,” you say with a heavy sigh as you all make your way to the dinner table where your father has set out a meal for the three of you. Putting your hands up in defeat as you sit down at your spot at the middle end of the table, you glance at Minghao who takes a seat with Jun sitting between the two of you. “I guess I’ll back off for now.”

Jun scoffs. “You better.” The three of you laugh together.

Yiren rummages through your closet, and you frown deeply. “Hey! You better clean that up,” you warn, rolling off of your bed and onto the floor, lazily standing up.

“I’m helping you pick out a nice outfit! You said Minghao is coming ri—” You scramble to your feet to slap a hand over Yiren’s mouth, eyes wide.

“Shut up! My brother’s room is right there—he might hear you!”

Yiren rolls her eyes, nudging your hand off her mouth with a huff. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” you narrow your eyes at her, grabbing one of your bras that she threw onto the ground and stuffing it back into your closet. “You thought I was going to tell Jun that I have a crush on his best friend?” you half whisper, half yell.

“Uh, why wouldn’t you? You’re seriously missing out on your chance to have him help you get with Minghao.”

You scoff, looking down at all the clothes strewn across the floor. “Have you met my brother? He would flip if I even mentioned being with a guy, let alone that guy being two years older and his friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Yiren retorts, throwing herself onto your bed leaving you to clean up the mess she made.

“Yes I do. This is how I can tell you don’t have any brothers …”

“Well if you never make a move on Minghao, how are you ever going to get him? You gotta start somewhere, and maybe your brother is the first nut you gotta crack to get there.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly planned on making any moves,” you mumble, reaching down to pick up a cute pink jacket you haven’t seen in a while.

“Uh, why not?” Yiren piques, sitting upright on your mattress.

“Excuse me, have you looked at Minghao?” you groan, slumping against your wall with the jacket in your hands. “He’s so … cool, and popular, and handsome,” you gush, and Yiren makes a disgusted face.

“Uh, no, sorry I don’t fawn over your future husband, so I don’t really look at Minghao but—”

“And he’s going to be a senior! Why would a senior ever go for—” you look down and gesture at yourself, “—me.”

“You’re seriously downgrading yourself—you know you’re a catch.”

“Yeah, not for someone like him,” you snort, flopping down onto your bed next to her. “It’s whatever, it’s a stupid crush anyways.”

“Yeah,” Yiren says flatly. “You’ve only been crushing on him for like three years—hey! Don’t hit me!”

“Then stop saying this stuff,” you groan, throwing a pillow onto her head.

“Okay fine, I’ll stop. So are you going to wear that?” she asks, pointing at the jacket you left at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s cute right?”

“Mhm … bet Minghao will totally like it and—”

“Yiren, shut up,” you giggle, pushing her again as you roll off the bed. “Okay, so the pink jacket and these jeans?” you ask, picking one pair off the ground and holding it up for her to see.

“Mm, no,” she says while shaking her head, standing up to join you as she looks at all of the clothes she threw across the floor. “Let’s see …” she hums to herself.

“Yiren,” you say with a laugh, “I think you’re putting more thought into this than me.”

“Well I can’t just let my best friend be single and lonely for the rest of her life! If all you do is sit around and listen to Radiohead, you’re going to end up being sixty-five and alone in some cottage in the woods.”

“Hey! That actually seems pretty peaceful,” you try to object, but Yiren narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Okay well,” she drawls out, putting her hands on your shoulders so you’re right in front of her, “Imagine being sixty-five and living in a cute cottage in the woods with Minghao. Sounds better, doesn’t it?” You can’t help the giddy grin that makes its way onto your face when Yiren says that, and she punches your shoulder lightly when she notices. “See, you do want that! So just listen to me, okay?”

“Okay, okay, fine! Just tell me which jeans to wear.”

She looks down, picking through the denim before pulling out a light blue one with little flowers embroidered on the pockets. “Look, this is cute. It’ll match with the jacket.”

You nod along, not questioning her because as far as you know, Yiren’s fashionable instinct stretches much further than yours and whatever she says about this must be true. As you change from your pajamas  into your new, curated outfit, Yiren sits back on the bed and grins widely.

“Looks perfect on you. Minghao will love it.”

“You think?” you pique, looking at her with bright, beaming eyes.

She winks at you and you jump up and down on the balls of your feet at the excitement. “I want at least 25% of whatever you get from your wedding gifts. You both will owe me big time.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens … Anyways, you ready to go? Let’s wait downstairs and get some pop while we wait for Minghao to come,” you suggest, Yiren agreeing with a nod as she bounces behind you. Jun, it seems, is still in his room waiting for his friend, so you stick your head through his door. “We’re going down to snack a little. Wanna come?”

Your brother shrugs, pushing himself off his swiveling chair to join you. “You know if we still have those cupcakes? The ones you made last week?”

“I think we have a few left. Why? You liked them?” you exclaim happily, turning around to face Jun as the three of you settle in the kitchen. You reach for a box you kept on the island, popping off the lid to show him.

Jun grins and pulls one out and you offer one to Yiren who stands beside you. “‘course I like them,” he says with his mouth stuffed with cake and cream.

Yiren, shooting a look of disgust his way, says, “Ew! Please don’t chew and talk, that’s gross.” Jun rolls his eyes at her as Yiren stuffs her own face with the cupcake, sighing as she digs in.

“Whatever,” Jun grumbles after swallowing it down. “They taste really good, you should make them more.”

Yiren nods, tapping your shoulder, “Agreed. Send me the recipe too,” voice muffled as she continues to munch down on the cupcake.

“Didn’t you just tell me not to eat with my mouth full?” Jun mutters, crossing his hands over his chest. You laugh at the banter and suddenly you hear the doorbell ring, ears perking up. “That’s probably Minghao—I’ll get the door.”

As your brother makes his way down to the foyer, you turn to look at Yiren. “I would give you the recipe but I don’t want to be the reason your house burns down. Seriously, remember the last time you tried baking and—”

“Oh my god, is the recipe what you’re thinking about right now? Minghao is just about to come—offer him a cupcake! Show him your amazing baking skills and show him what a good housewife you can be!”

You give your best friend a look of bewilderment. “What the hell Yiren,” you groan, slapping your hand on your face, trying to hold back your chuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it to him but only because I want him to be impressed. Not because I want to submit myself to misogyny for the sake of a man.”

“Okay fine but—look!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper. “He’s here!” You immediately straighten your back and smile when Jun walks back into the kitchen with Minghao. He’s wearing some loose jeans and a black hoodie, his hair longer than before.

He says your name when he sees you, throwing up a wave and a smile. Minghao then glances at Yiren with a blank stare, pursing his lips together. Yiren chuckles nervously and clicks her tongue while pointing at herself. “Yiren.”

“Ah. Hi Yiren,” he says politely.

“You guys want some pop?” Jun offers when he opens up the fridge. Yiren, Minghao, and you nod happily and respectively call out your choices.

“Sprite!”

“Cola!”

“Cola!”

Jun juts his lip out in a pout when he turns back to the three of you. “I wanted Cola too, but there’s only two left.” You’re about to furrow your brows and tell him that it’s okay, you don’t really want any, but Minghao speaks up before you.

“She can have the Cola, I don’t mind,” he says casually, grabbing one can from Jun and handing it to you with soft eyes. “Here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t really care for the difference between Sprite and Cola and—”

Minghao chuckles and shakes his head, and you think you might just pass out when your palm brushes against his knuckles when he eases the cold can into your hand. “Seriously, it’s fine,” he tells you. You glance at Jun and Yiren who are busy opening their own cans, turning your attention back to Minghao.

“Thank you … Uh, do you want a cupcake? I made some a while ago and we still have some left,” you offer, holding up the box to him.

“It’s the last one. Are you sure?”

“How the tables have turned,” you laugh, and Minghao cracks a bright smile at that and holy crap, if you weren’t so busy trying to keep your composure, you’d be freaking out over how handsome he looks when he smiles. “‘course you can have it. I’ve had plenty of them,” you admit sheepishly as he reaches for the cupcake and brings up to his mouth.

“Holy shit. I don’t blame you for eating a lot—if I had these in my house they’d be gone in like an hour.”

“Right!” Yiren agrees, and you can’t help but chew on your bottom lip when you smile from the praise.

“Guess this is just a sign for you to make more, huh,” Jun says, walking to stand next to you to lean on your shoulder.

“Uh-uh! You gotta reimburse me somehow,” you protest, looking up at your brother with a firm expression.

“Please make more, they’re really good. I’ll buy you boba if you make more,” Minghao chimes, and it’s safe to say you don’t expect it from the way you cough on your own saliva. Yiren laughs at your reaction, and Jun only looks at you weirdly when you nod in agreement.

“Oh, so you’ll make cupcakes when he asks but not for your dear older brother?”

You roll your eyes, saying, “He offered to buy me boba! You know I can’t turn that down.”

Jun huffs in faux irritation, digging his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. “Ya-da, ya-da. Anyways, would anyone other than my super fake, mean, evil sister like to go to karaoke now?” he asks playfully. All it takes is one glare and pulling on his hair for a few seconds to have him shouting out apologies as the four of you make your way to the car garage.

The ride to the karaoke place is short with Jun in the front and Minghao sitting in the passenger seat next to him. You and Yiren pile into the back, and the three of you scroll through your phones to decide what songs to sing later while Jun drives.

“I get to sing Creep, right?” you ask excitedly, bouncing up and down in your seat.

“How’d I know you were going to bring up Radiohead,” Jun mutters, pressing his head back into the head rest when he stops at a red light, while Minghao turns in his seat to look back at you with wide eyes.

“You like Radiohead?” he asks with a small smile.

The corners of your lips are lifted and your face brightens when you nod vigorously. “Yeah I do!”

“I think ‘like’ would be an understatement. I’m like 99% sure Thom Yorke lives in her skin or something because what she has for Radiohead is a lot more than just ‘like,’” Yiren says.

“No way, I love Radiohead,” Minghao tells you. Holy shit. So Minghao is attractive and nice and smart and pretty much perfect at everything and he enjoys Radiohead? You might go insane.

“Really?” Your eyes are wide with your jaw hanging open, leaning forward in your seat.

You hear Jun groan from the driver’s seat, and both you and Minghao shoot him a dirty look. “I forgot both of you are obsessed with Radiohead. Seriously, could either of you get more emo?”

“If you weren’t driving right now, I’d strangle you,” Minghao says bluntly before looking back at you. “Anyways, what’s your favorite song?”

“Junnie, please, can you put on Creep now? You know I’ve been waiting forever,” you plead, holding your hand out to the microphone that’s in your brother’s hand. The room is dark and lit up with red and blue LEDs across the border, making the room glow purple.

“But I want to sing another round of Taylor Swift!” he protests, pointing at the big screen in front of you while clutching the microphone close to his chest. You scoff, poking his side. “You know I’m not ticklish, so that doesn’t work.”

“You’re not ticklish? How?” Yiren exclaims, looking at Jun with wide eyes.

You turn to squint at her. “He’s weird. I thought we already established this.”

“Hey!” Jun whines. “See this is why you won’t be getting to sing Creep tonight.”

“Jun!” you cry out, and you’re about to pull out a string of complaints and curses, but then Minghao is stepping in, pointing at you.

“Put on Creep. She’s been asking for a while and I want to sing it too,” he says. Jun is quiet for a moment before sighing and handing you the microphone which leads you to puffing up your chest and smiling proudly.

“Thanks,” you chirp gleefully, as Minghao holds his own microphone up to his lips.

When he smiles at you, it’s kind and sincere in such a way that it has your heart swelling under your pretty pink jacket. Minghao coolly points at Yiren who sits by the control tablet. “Creep. Hit it.”

The air inside your house is warm as you skip down the hall and down the stairs. When the bell rang the first time, you thought it was just some package but when you hear it ring twice, you think otherwise.

When you peek through the little peep-hole, you jump up and down on the balls of your feet, a mix of excitement and nerves pools at your stomach. You open the door and Minghao shuffles in front of you at the doorstep. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, and his hair looks shorter. “Did you cut your hair?” you ask the seventeen year old as you move to the side so he can step in.

“Yeah, it was getting in my eyes too much,” he tells you with a nod, a small puff of vapor coming from his lips. It’s cold, and you hear him inhale a breath of relief when you close the door behind him. “Thought the door was never gonna open. I was freezing my ass off,” he says, unwinding the brown scarf from his neck.

“‘m sorry,” you reply sheepishly as he takes off his shoes, following you through the foyer. “Jun didn’t tell me you were coming so I was in my room. He’s still out with my dad, but he’ll be back soon.”

“That’s fine.” Minghao shrugs off his puffer jacket, placing it on the coat rack while you make your way to the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink? It’s cold outside, so I can make some hot chocolate. Jun got the nice kind from the cafe down the street.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says, sitting down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island as you take out some milk and hot chocolate powder. It’s silent, and you chew your lip while thinking about how this is the first time in a really long time that you and Minghao have been alone together.

Nearing the end of his twelfth year in high school and just like the first time you met him, he’s as enticing as ever. Dancing competitions with Jun, left and right, smart and respectful with the teachers, popular among the students—you're lucky you get to talk to someone as cool as him, even if it is only on the account that you’re his best friend’s little sister.

“How’s high school?” he asks casually as you boil some milk over the stove.

“It’s alright … English is still hard as ever,” you admit, dropping the powder into the frothing milk.

Minghao chuckles softly when you turn around to face him, and a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “Yeah, it was never my strong suit either. You still friends with … what’s her name? Sorry, I’m not good with names—the girl who lost her voice at karaoke when she came with us?”

“Yiren?” you giggle softly, recalling the memory. “Yeah. Still friends, still as loud as ever,” you say with a sigh, mixing the milk as it turns light brown. “How are things with you? Jun’s been telling me the dance practices you guys have is pretty intense. He always looks like he could eat a horse when he comes home.”

“That’s good to hear, and yeah, it’s all going good. It is pretty tiring, but it’s a lot of fun,” Minghao replies, stretching his arms behind his back as you pour out the hot chocolate into two mugs, bringing it over. “Thanks,” he murmurs, grabbing from your hand sitting down at your regular spot, one extra chair seated between the two of you as always.

Arm’s length, you think for a moment, before shaking yourself of the thought. “I’m sure the practice is paying off though—seems like Jun is always talking about some new kinda competition or something.”

“Mhm,” Minghao hums, taking a sip of the hot cacao. “This is really good, thank you,” he says with a soft smile, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some sort of giddiness erupt in your stomach. “I think … I think we can really take it somewhere—our dancing.”

It’s a sparing thought that Minghao and Jun’s dreams are far beyond yours, and you have a bit of a difficult time trying to understand what he means by somewhere and if that somewhere includes you or not.

“You’re going to Korea?” your eyebrows furrow as you glance between Jun and your parents.

“Nothing’s finalized yet—” your mother says, but when Jun’s eyes flicker between you and the ground, you already know that this is set in stone.

“Yes it is.” Your voice is small when the words come out. “You—” you take a deep breath, “—you’re going.”

“Not now, of course,” your dad says, patting your back as he stands up, your mother following suit. “Talk for a few minutes, yeah?” he says as both your parents walk out. When your whole family walked into your room ten minutes earlier to tell you they had big news, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this.

And now you’re sitting with your brother on one end of your bed while you’re curled up against your pillows on the other, unable to meet his gaze.

“When are you going?” you ask quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“August.”

“That’s in a month and a half,” your shoulders deflate as you say it. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You bury your face in your hands in hopes that it’ll muffle your cries. It doesn’t.

Jun scoots over to you quickly when he sees your shoulders shake, one arm going around your back to pull you close to his body, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “How are you going to do it?” you blubber as your brother pats your back. “You can’t just go to a whole different country alone and—”

“I won’t be alone. Minghao is coming with me,” Jun tells you quickly. Now that brings your head up. You don’t care that your nose is snotty and that your hair is all over the place and that your face burns, you just need to see the look on Jun’s face to see that he isn’t messing with you.

The way his own eyes are glossy gives you your answer. “Y-you both got accepted into tha-that company?”

Jun nods. “We applied together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were applying? I-I would’ve understood. You could have given me more time to process this and—” You look down at your hands, “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, not finding the words in your throat.

“We didn’t even know if we would get accepted. Me and Minghao promised each other that we’d only follow through with it if both of us got in and we didn’t think that there’d be a high chance of that because it’s so competitive … I only told Mom and Dad because until we got the acceptances, I really didn’t think it was going to actually happen.” You gulp at his words, trying to let it all sink in.

“I think … I think I just need to go on a walk. Take a breather, y’know,” you mutter under your breath as you stand up. Just as you're about to walk away, you stop yourself, looking back at Jun who stares down at his hands. You don’t think twice before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. “I’m really proud of you,” you say quietly before rushing out of your room and down the stairs.

You shove your feet into some slippers in the foyer, rushing out onto the street soon after. You aren’t sure what you’re doing or where you’re headed, but you continue to trudge along the sidewalk until you’re walking down the main road.

The summer air is hot and stuffy, and you wonder if you feel so suffocated because of the sun’s onslaught or because of thoughts that run through your head. It’s surrounding you, breathing it in, it fills your lungs, courses through your veins, rushes to your brain—you don’t know what it is, but it’s uncomfortable and has you dizzy and your vision foggy.

You lean against a thick lamppost next to you, hands on your knees as you knit your eyebrows together as sweat beads down your forehead. What the fuck, you think as you breathe in through your nose.

You hear your own name bounce around in your head, and the sound only grows louder and louder until you’re muttering under your breath, telling yourself to shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up. And there are tears in your eyes but you furiously wipe them away because while you don’t mind crying, you do mind crying if you don’t know why.

And fuck, there’s that voice again, your name echoing over and over again until it’s growing lowder and ringing in your ears. You think you might start crying again until the voice sounds familiar and you’re whipping your head up and standing straight when you see a car pull up to the curb next to you.

“Fuck my life,” you mumble to yourself when you see Minghao in the driver’s seat of the car. He rolls down the window and god, he looks so pretty with his hair back and upper body fit into a loose yellow shirt.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asks you, brows pinched into a concerned expression as he looks at you, face flushed and sheen from sweat.

“I—” You’re about to smile at him and let the giddiness of having your crush talk to you take over, but then the words get caught in your throat when you remember the whole reason you’re out here. “—I’m just going on a walk.”

“In this heat?” He raises a brow at you. “Where to? Let me give you a ride. You don’t look too well.”

“Nowhere really,” you say with a shrug. “Actually, I might just head back home,” you rush out, turning on your heel to walk in the other direction so Minghao can’t pry any further, but he stops you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he calls out, and you don’t have the willpower to ignore him. “Let me drive you home then. Seriously, you don’t look well—like you look like you’re ‘bout to pass out and shit—so just get in the car, please?” He says the last part with some sort of beggary etched onto his face and you just can’t deny him. Not now, not ever.

Pulling the door open, your limbs feel heavy as you climb into the car, air much cooler and fresher than outside. Leaning your head against the headrest, you let your eyes flutter shut as Minghao starts the car.

“Are you seriously okay? You look—”

“Sick, I know. I look sick,” your grumble, eyes still shut. You wonder if you should tell him Jun just told you everything.

“I’m sorry,” and you can tell from the way his voice doesn’t waver that he means it.

“Jun told me about Korea.”

“Oh.” Yeah, very big oh. “Just now?” You nod. “Is that why you were out here?” You nod again, finally opening your eyes.

“Hey, this isn’t the way to my house.”

Minghao keeps his eyes on the road. “C’mon, let’s get some pop,” he says, ignoring your statement and driving into the parking lot of a convenience store. He unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out his end, not saying a word, and you figure that you have no other choice but to follow.

Any other situation and you’d be grinning about spending some time alone with Minghao, but after hearing Jun tell you that he’s going to be traveling hundreds of miles and flying over borders within the next two months has your stomach churning in a way you don’t like.

You don’t know if you want to spend all the hours of the day with Jun and Minghao, or if you want to crawl up in your bed and pretend they don’t exist so it’ll hurt less when they’re gone. You feel stupid for thinking like this—you know it’s going to hurt either way.

You’re lost in your own thoughts as you walk into the store after Minghao, only snapped back into the present when he says something to you. “Hey, those are your jeans that you wore when we first did karaoke right?’

You blink once and then twice before looking down at your pants. They were those same jeans. “Yeah, how’d you know?” you ask him incredulously, and Minghao chuckles as he reaches into the cooler and pulls out a pink popsicle.

“I remember the flowers and how they matched your pink jacket. It was cute,” he says casually, and you hope he doesn’t catch onto the way your fingers twiddle together nervously and you avert your gaze. “Anyways, you like Cola right?” he clarifies when reaching into the drink fridge near the cooler. You nod shyly, thanking him quietly when he hands you a can.

As you make your way to the cash register, you fish around in your pockets for a few moments hoping you’ll dig up a dollar bill or something but then Minghao’s hand is on your wrist and he shakes his head with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it.” He turns back so quickly you don’t have time to protest because he’s already sticking his card into the machine, throwing the cashier a thumbs up and walking out the store without a word.

“I could’ve paid for myself, y’know,” you grumble, following behind Minghao, watching to see where he’s headed. You think he’s going to get back into his car, but instead he plops down on the street curb, sitting on the ground. You just look at him for a few moments, contemplating what to do for a few moments before joining his side.

“Yeah, but I wanted to pay for it.”

The sun is bright and it beads down on you relentlessly, but you don’t complain. You both sit in silence as you both tend to your snacks—Minghao tries to lap up his popsicle quickly now that you’re out in the heat and you try to drink as much of your Cola as you can before it grows lukewarm. The air grows thick between you.

You can’t find the right words to say. You suppose there aren’t any right words or any wrong words, and that you can say just about anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Glancing at Minghao who takes a lick of his pink popsicle, you feel that uneasy feeling swarm inside of your chest.

You could kiss him right now. You could press your mouth against his sticky lips and lap at the sugar against his tongue. You could hold his face and run your fingers through his hair and cradle the nape of his neck. You could do anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Minghao, after all, was leaving.

But you’re scared and Minghao is mature and his dreams are big and he’s brave.

Your eyes linger on his plush lips for no longer than a second before you shamefully look down at the Cola in your hands, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

“You’ll remember this place, right? Like—if you get big and famous and stuff, you two won’t forget, right?” you resort to asking. You say ‘this place,’ but really, you mean ‘me.’ You don’t want to be forgotten.

Minghao watches you with his eyes clouded with something you can’t really make out. “Of course we won’t. We’ll remember forever.” Absentmindedly, you trace figure-eights into the top of your can of pop, and Minghao catches the motion.

Using his own finger, he traces the figure of the number eight over the cement of the curb. “See. Like infinity, y’know?”

You purse your lips together and nod, your mind going dizzy. “Can we … can we go?” you mumble softly, gripping the can in your hand. “I think the heat kinda got to me.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Minghao doesn’t question you, polishing off his popsicle and tossing it into the trash before unlocking the door so you can take the silent ride home.

Jun and Minghao flew out two months ago. You went with your family and Minghao’s family to bid goodbyes. It’s not like you wouldn’t see them again—give or take a few months and Jun would be back at home, but he’d have to leave again. And again. And again.

It’s sad, you think, as you slump against Yiren on some random person’s couch. You miss them so much, but when you think about Jun and Minghao, all you can see is the hard work they’ve put into going where they’re headed.

You feel selfish as you bring a cup up to your lips. You feel pathetic and lame and if you weren’t already drunk, you’d be wallowing in self pity as well. The alcohol tastes just as bitter as your feelings, and while you wince when you gulp it down, you don’t hesitate to let some more run down your throat.

Yiren watches you worriedly when you clutch her arm and shut your eyes tight. “I miss them,” you whisper, and she doesn’t know if you’re talking to her or to yourself. She strokes your hair and coos to you about taking you to lie down somewhere.

Your head spins as she helps you stand, letting the cup fall to the ground, not bothering to pick it up. Yiren pulls you into an empty bedroom and sits you on the bed. “Drink this,” she instructs, handing you a bottle of water.

“Yiren, I miss them,” you repeat yourself.

“I know, I know you do. Do you want to go home? I’ll drive you and—”

“No, you go have fun. I just need to sit down for a sec,” you tell her, letting your back fall onto the mattress. Yiren gives you a warning look, but you shoo her off. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She looks like she wants to protest, but you both know you’re on a one track mind right now.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Yiren begs as she walks away and closes the door behind her. You’re still dizzy, but not nearly as bad as before. Sitting up, you glance around the room. It’s simple—probably a guest room in whoever’s house this is. Also probably why the door was unlocked in the first place.

You feel you might pass out until your eyes land on an open notebook on a table in the corner of the room. You don’t think twice before standing up and ripping a sheet out, scrambling for a pen.

DEAR MINGHAO

I’m drunk right now. I miss you and I miss Jun. I hope when you guys come back again, we can go to that karaoke place again and sing to Radiohead. I’ve expanded my taste you know—my favorite song is Fake Plastic Trees now, and I even got a record player just so I could play the vinyl for it. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.

When you come back, we should really go there again. Yiren’s been getting really tired of me singing Creep every time, so I need a new duo partner. And she’s leaving too, so there’s that.

I really want to kiss you right now, but you’re in Korea.

I miss Jun a lot too. I think I hate you for it. He’s my brother but somehow you get to see him more and talk to him more and be with him more. Sometimes I call him and it’s for less than five minutes and I hear your voice in the background and I don’t know if I want to listen to you speak forever or strangle you so you can never talk again. I get that Jun is busy, and that you’re busy, but you guys get to be busy together.

Yiren told me she’s probably going to go to college out of the country next year. I’m going to miss her like hell. I think I already miss her, and so I drag her to karaoke with me so she won’t ever forget about me and Radiohead and how garbage I am at singing Creep.

Jun says he’s going to come visit home in two months, and that you might come along. I didn’t know home was a place you only visit, but I guess being an idol changes you. I probably sound super bitter right now. I’m not. Maybe I’m upset that you guys are gone, but I really am happy for you.Jun is happy, and you’re happy, and I’m so happy you have each other.

It’s hard to focus on your exam—halfway through your degree and you still get the jitters every time you step into the testing hall. It’s probably the nerves. And the caffeine. And the fact that you’ll be seeing your brother and Minghao in three hours.

It’s mainly the third that has your leg bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you jot down your answers. The exam takes longer than you’d like to finish, but as soon as you’ve finished the final question, you’re bolting out of the large room and toward the parking lot.

Connecting your phone to your car, you call Jun as you back out of the parking spot. “Hey, you guys at the airport?” you ask when you hear him pick up.

“Yeah, we’re just getting out right now but there’s kind of a crowd so it might take a while to just get to the car.”

“I forgot you guys are, like, famous,” you mutter jokingly. “Where’re you headed first? Minghao’s place first?”

“Yeah probably. He’s gonna see his parents and stuff first and then I’ll go to Mom and Dad’s house, so you can just come there.”

“Okay … we’re still good for our dinner plans, right?”

“Yeah, actually I was wondering if Minghao could tag along,” Jun says, and you can hear some muffled shouting from the other side.

“Oh okay, yeah su—”

“Hey, look, there’s a lot of people here and I can’t hear much so just text me your response and I’ll get to you in a second,” Jun tells you quickly as the shouting grows louder. He hangs up soon after and you sigh heavily as you start driving to your parents house.

The ride is quiet but you’re happy to be met with gleeful parents when you get to their place. You’re all a bit spirited at the prospect of Jun coming home, so when you hear the old ringing of the door bell, you’re bolting to the door and swinging it open, jumping into his arms.

“What happened to ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” Jun teases as he hugs you close, awkwardly trying to shuffle into the house. You poke your tongue out at him when you finally unwind your arms from around him.

“Hi. Hello. How are you? You seem obnoxious, as always,” you shoot back, and Jun only grins, pinching your cheek tightly.

“Oh how I missed my little insane sister,” he says before moving onto your parents, enveloping them in hugs as you all begin to settle down in the living room. The four of you spend a few hours catching up with Jun before he excuses himself to freshen up so he can get ready for your plans for the evening.

When he comes back all ready, you’re pulling out your keys from your purse and waving bye to your parents, promising them you’ll stop by the next morning as you and your brother make your way to the door.

“See you later!” Jun calls out before closing the front door behind him and following you to your car. Minghao’s house is close by, no more than a five minute drive, and it’s quiet as you take the familiar roads through the town to get there.

“Should we go in?” you ask when you park in Minghao’s driveway. “You haven’t seen his parents in a while, have you?”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. C’mon, let’s go.” You both slip out of the car and make your way to the front door. Minghao’s mother opens the door and you spend a few minutes exchanging greetings and catching up before Minghao is stepping out, clad in some black jeans and a grey hoodie.

He smiles when he sees you, pulling you into a hug, giving you a chance to feel the slightly damp hair against your cheek and the woody smell that always reminds you of him. “Hey, how’s it been?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I-I’m good,” you say shyly.

“Let’s talk more in the car, yeah?” Jun suggests, turning back to Minghao’s parents to give them a hug before you all wave your goodbyes and get into your car.

“Where’re we headed?” Jun asks, as you back out of the driveway. Jun sits in the passenger seat while Minghao slips into the back.

“It’s this new place—opened just a few months ago so I doubt you’d have gone there yet,” you tell him as you start driving.

“Is it the place next to the cafe?” Minghao asks you, and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah … how’d you know?”

“My mom told me about it, and said I should try it out. I guess now’s my chance, huh.”

“Yeah! It’s really good, I hope you both like it,” you say, reaching over to the AUX controls to flick on one of your playlists. “Okay guys … are you ready?” you warn, watching Minghao’s eyes brighten through the mirror.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you guys are going to sign Creep again—” Jun starts to groan, but you reach over and press a finger over his lips to shut him up.

“Quiet,” Minghao hisses to his friend, scooting forward in his seat so you’re in his view, placing his hands under your headrest. His fingers brush against the back of your neck and you’re scared you might crash the car from the way his touch makes you shiver. Fuck, more than half a damn decade and you still can’t fight it off. “Turn it up,” he instructs from behind, and you can only grin as you reach over and pump up the volume.

The deep rumble of snare and guitar echoes through the car as the song starts and you already feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. So when the first lines of, ‘when you were here before,’ leave your lips, you aren’t sure if you feel your heart mending itself, or if it’s salt being poured on the wound.

Because from behind you is Minghao’s voice, so deep and velvety and angelic it has you almost in a trance. He’s been good at singing, always, but now his voice sounds … mature, and developed and … and you love it.

You think back to the first time you sang Creep with him, and the lyrics already have you reminiscing when you both sing, ‘couldn’t look you in the eye,’ because goddammit you still struggle to look at Minghao for too long because you’re scared you’ll get lost.

And when it gets to the part before the bass is blaring in your ears, Minghao and you are singing, ‘I wish I was special, you’re so fuckin’ special,’ at the top of your lungs and you can’t help but let the irony sink in.

Now you’re pretty sure when Thom wrote Creep, he didn’t mean it to be about your love life, especially not the non-existent one between you and your brother’s best friend, but Thom is speaking to you right now, and you wonder if Minghao can hear the way you’re singing from your heart. How you’re singing for him.

When the song comes to an end, Minghao’s fingers brush over the nape of your neck one last time before he retreats back into his seat. You try to not mull on the feeling any longer, shaking your head of all of those thoughts when you near the restaurant.

“Here it is!” you chirp, parking the car on the curb. The three of you shuffle out of the car casually, making your way to the entrance.

“Looks nice,” Minghao comments as he opens the door for you and Jun. Your brother hops in merrily and you and Minghao both share a soft smile as you go inside too, your body nearly jerking when you feel his hand on the small of your back as he follows behind you.

His touch is warm and gentle and—fuck, does he know what he’s doing to you right now?

You’re more relieved than anything when he finally lets his arm drop, the three of you making your way to the table you booked. You were scared that if Minghao stayed close any longer, he’d be able to feel your heart beating through your chest.

You guys sit down at the table, Jun next to you while Minghao settles across the two of you. “So how’s your classes going?” he asks you as you look through the menu. “Jun said you had an exam today, right?”

“Yeah, it was my final one,” you tell him with a sigh of relief. “It was stressful preparing for it but it went better than I thought.”

“Good to hear,” Minghao says as a waiter comes along to pick up on your orders. After he leaves, Jun turns to you.

“What’s Yiren up to?” Jun asks you curiously. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.”

“She’s, uh, she’s good,” you reply. “I haven’t seen her in a while either … she went off to college in Korea, remember?”

Minghao chuckles, “Seems like everyone’s going there, huh? Maybe you should pull up too.”

You scrunch up your face and shake your head while you take a sip of water. “I think I like this place too much to leave. Plus, who’s going to take care of our old folks if I leave too?” you tease, nudging your brother in the side.

“Mom and Dad can take care of themselves just fine,” Jun shrugs, ruffling your hair as the waiter brings along some food.

“Looks good,” Minghao says, holding up some chopsticks as you all look down at the sizzling dishes in front of you.

“It is! See?” you say pointedly, looking up at Jun. “Imagine I moved to Korea—I wouldn’t be able to eat this.” Your brother only rolls his eyes and Minghao and you laugh together while you dig in.

As you work through your meal and catch each other up on your lives, Minghao eventually leans back in his seat and sighs heavily. “I’m really craving something sweet right now.”

“I’d say we should pick up some pastries from the cafe next door but they closed two hours ago,” you say sadly.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that place. They made the best chocolate buns ever,” Jun mutters to himself, polishing off his plate.

“Let’s go to the cafe tomorrow evening, yeah?” Minghao suggests as he takes a sip of water. At the suggestion, you chew at your lip.

“Uh, I don’t think I can go then,” you say, hoping they won’t pry any further.

Of course, your brother doesn’t allow you a second of peace. “Why not? Your last exam was today, right?”

“Yeah, but I have stuff to do,” you reply nonchalantly. Jun scoffs and tugs your ear, causing you to whine. “What was that for?!”

“You didn’t clear your schedule out for me? I thought you missed me! You know I have to leave in like a week,” he complains, and you and Minghao share an amused look as you nudge Jun on the side.

“Relax, you can have me in the morning and afternoon and everything … I just have to go somewhere for the evening.”

���You’re being really ominous about this, you know,” Jun retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’re you going?”

You chew on your tongue, contemplating if this is the right moment to bring it up, or if you should even tell Jun and Minghao this at all. “I just have to see someone.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jun groans. “You’re literally asking me to pry. Tell me who—a boyfriend?” You chuckle nervously, eyes flickering between Minghao and your brother, shaking your head.

“No—not a boyfriend,” you say dryly, scoffing at the irony. “Remember Renjun? I told you about him when I was in freshman year.”

“Vaguely. Remind me who he is again?”

“He’s just a guy, and he has some of my stuff I need to pick up.” Both Minghao and Jun cock an eyebrow at you after that. “What?” you huff, leaning back in your seat.

“An ex?” Minghao asks and your face burns.

“I—yeah,” you say casually. “An ex.”

Jun frowns deeply. “I didn’t know you and Renjun ever dated. I didn’t even know you ever had a boyfriend,” he says, voice evidently upset that he was left out of this.

“It wasn’t that serious,” you pat his shoulder as to soften the blow. “Plus it happened when you were on tour—we hardly talked then.”

“Still! You could’ve told me!” You bite back a, ‘But could I really?’ because this isn’t the time or place for that.

“It’s whatever. I just need to pick up some stuff I left at his place and—”

“So it ended pretty recently then?” Minghao piques, and your eyebrows furrow, slightly annoyed by both of their belated interest in your love life.

“What, no! It’s been months and—wait, I don’t see how that’s any of your guys’ business,” you huff and Minghao backs off a little, but Jun still stays curiously leaning in.

“Whatever. You’ll be available to come with us to the lake on Friday though, right?” Jun asks, pulling out his phone and holding it up to your face to show you a picture of a lake house. “I booked a place to stay the night and all.”

“Of course I’m going to come—I’ve been looking forward to it!”

“Good,” Jun says gruffly, still somewhat glaring at you.

You give him a funny look. “What?”

“I’m still mad you never told me—you’re supposed to tell me this stuff! How else am I supposed to know that you’re doing fine on your own and actually growing up.”

“Oh my god, Jun, I’m an adult! Did you think I would never have boyfriends?”

“No! At least not without telling me!”

You chuckle and Minghao follows in suit, enjoying the little sibling bicker. “Okay fine. I’m sure I’ll be telling you every detail of my love life when it gets resurrected.”

Minghao snorts at your use of words, and you revel in the way the sound makes you feel. Fuck it, it’s been more than half a decade and you still get butterflies—you can’t fight away the feeling, so you might as well wallow in it.

You wonder what Jun would think about this—your love life being pulled and shaken by his own best friend. Oh well, some secrets are best kept hidden anyways.

“Here’s your stuff,” Renjun says softly, handing you a paper bag that’s stuffed with a wide array of your belongings.

“Thank you. Is my pink jacket in there? I’ve been looking for it for a while and I didn’t know if I left it at yours,” you ask timidly, holding the paper bag close to your chest.

He scratches the back of his head as he steps back, nodding. “Uh, yeah I think it’s at the bottom.” You peer down at the contents of your back, and give a half smile when you see the pink cloth peeking out from underneath.

“Thanks for taking care of my stuff. I know you’ve basically moved out and all.”

“No worries. Do you, uh, need a ride home or anything? It’s pretty cold.”

You purse your lips at the offer, but shake your head. “It’s fine …” There’s an awkward silence and you quickly wonder if you should say anything more. Renjun looks awfully … apologetic right now and you feel there’s some more you can say. “How’s your new place? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I flew up there a few weeks back to get some of my main stuff shipped. A nice apartment, way bigger than whatever I had here,” he says with an awkward chuckle. You appreciate the effort.

Nodding, you tighten your grip on the bag. “That’s good to hear. I hope it all goes well with you. I … I think I’ll be taking my leave now. My brother’s back in town so …”

“Oh yeah, I heard from Jianing. Hope you’re having a good time—I know you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Thank you. Anyways, I’m gonna get going now. Thanks again,” you say as you step back, throwing out a small wave.

A half-hearted, “See you,” leaves Renjun’s lips as you turn on your heel and start walking back to the bus station. There’s no promise of seeing Renjun later, or ever again, and something cold sinks in your stomach at the thought.

The thought that this all could’ve been avoided if Renjun hadn’t gotten that stupid job offer hundreds of miles away. If he didn’t decide to pack his bags and fly away just like Jun, like Yiren, like Minghao. Renjun was leaving, just like everyone else.

You clutch the paper bag close to your chest as you make your way to the bus stop, one hand fumbling in the pocket of your jacket as you search for your wallet and within seconds you’re a frantic mess. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Shit, shit, shit!” you cry out when you drop your bag and pat frantically over your pockets to try and feel for your wallet.

Your digging into every crook of the coat and there’s a growing feeling of dread that washes over you once you realize that you lost your fucking wallet. Hands clenched at your side, you feel hot tears well up in your lash line as you stare down at the ground, letting in the shitty events of today sink in.

You don’t even know why you’re crying now. It’s hardly even cries, really, you’re downright sobbing as you plop down on the curb of the empty street, fumbling with your phone as you pull up Jun’s contact. Pressing the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight in an attempt to calm down your breath, but when you hear the line go dead you cry even harder, realizing that Jun is probably napping right now.

“Fuck my life,” you complain to yourself, letting your head hang low as you scroll through your phone. You aren’t even sure what compels you to click on him but before you know it you’re on speaker as you hear the buzzing of the phone as you wait for Minghao to pick up.

One ring. Maybe he’s busy.

Two rings. He might be looking for his phone.

Three rings. He probably won’t pick up.

Four rings, and you’re about to hang up but then it stops. “Minghao?”

Minghao’s voice is cool and calm when he says your name. “Do you—”

“I need your help,” you say so quietly you aren’t sure if he’ll be able to hear it. And then Minghao hears it: your soft pants and shaky breath and something about the sound has him squeezing his phone tightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m—” No, I feel like shit and I’m freezing my ass off and it’s so cold and I need you to help me. “Can you pick me up? I lost my wallet which has my bus card. I’m sorry, I know it’s a little late and you’re probably busy but—”

“Send me your location.”

Minghao is pulling up in his black car within twenty minutes and by then you’ve had enough time to wipe the tears from your face and piece together yourself to look presentable. Rolling down the windows as you wave over to his car, you hear the doors click and you’re roughly yanking on the door and throwing your stuff and yourself in.

Minghao raises a brow at your ruckus, asking once again, “Are you okay?” When you only sigh heavily, buckling yourself up, you hope Minghao will just leave it alone. You’d rather not talk about the stupid breakdown you just had in front of your childhood crush.

Minghao clearly doesn’t get the message, so when he starts the engine again, he murmurs, “Have you been crying?” You purse your lips together tightly as if the question itself as the tears bubbling up to the surface once again. “Did meeting with Renjun not go well?” You’re surprised he remembers his name—Minghao was never great with names. “Can you say something? I’m worried.”

“Sorry,” you say softly, letting your shoulder drop down, and from the corner of your vision you see Minghao watching you carefully. “I-I just got overwhelmed. And it was cold. Really cold. And then—” You take a shaky breath. “—and I lost my fucking wallet on top of it and it’s all so shitty and—”

His hand is on your shoulder and you hardly realize that Minghao has pulled over and parked so he can turn to face you. You’re crying again and you don’t even know how this fucking happened, all you know is that there’s so much going on in your head and Minghao is right there, he’s so close but then again, he’s so far.

“Hey, hey calm down for a sec’,” he says calmly, gripping your arm firmly. “Breathe slowly, and tell me what happened.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and scrunch your face up as you bury your head in your hands. In your right mind, you wouldn’t even think about telling Minghao about what’s on your mind but it’s been a really terrible past hour and you can’t control yourself.

“Renjun’s leaving. Didn’t want to do long distance and so he’s gone and—fuck, I don’t even blame him but why’d he have to leave,” you ramble, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minghao pats your back gently.

“Did he say something to you when you met with him?” he asked, tone laced with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m just—are you o—okay please don’t cry.”

You don’t know why, but Minghao telling you to cry only makes the tears fall faster. “And Yiren—” you hiccup, “Yiren left too, I haven’t seen her in months and Jun a-a-and you—you’ve all been gone.” You don’t realize when Minghao grabs both your shoulders and forces you to face him completely.

“Slow down, please. No one’s left you, we’re all going to be here for you, you know that. Did Renjun say something which made you think like this?” he asks, the grip on your shaking shoulders growing tighter as you desperately try to steady yourself.

“N-no, but you’re not here. I hardly ever get to see my own brother and Yiren and you and Renjun and everything is so shitty I just—” you cry out and suddenly you stumble forward in the seat and before you know it Minghao’s arms are around you.

It’s not like you haven’t hugged him before but this is the first time you’re blubbering into his shoulder about your feelings, and if you weren’t so sad, you’d be fucking appalled. His warm hand is on your back, rubbing up and down slowly until you’ve finally found the conscience to actually breathe and realize just what’s going on.

Slowly, you pull away from Minghao’s hold, furiously wiping away at your face to dry yourself, looking down at your lap bashfully. “I am so sorry, what the fuck, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you blurt out when Minghao drops his hands from your shoulder. You miss the warmth, but you’re quite very embarrassed with yourself and don’t have the will to chase after his touch.

“Please don’t apologize,” Minghao replies softly, watching you with wide eyes. “That … was a lot and—”

“I’m sorry, look, I was just having a shitty day and it all piled up and you just—I don’t know I guess, let’s just pretend this never happened,” you beg with him. Minghao’s face looks like he wants to say more, but you really can’t tell with the way his eyes are clouded.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.”

You gulp at the irony. No, you really can’t. You can’t tell Minghao anything, really, because even after crying and sobbing and wailing in his car he still looks at you with so much care and it has these stupid fucking butterflies erupting in your stomach like you’re fifiteen with a massive crush on your brother’s best friend.

“Can you just please drive me to my place?” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I think I just really need to sleep.”

You can tell Minghao still has questions, but you don’t seem too willing to answer them so he doesn’t say anything when he nods and turns back to the road. The ride is silent, and when he finally parks he pats your shoulder.

You look out the window and furrow your eyebrows. “This isn’t my apartment complex …” you tell him, confused as you see a convenience store in front of you. The same one.

“C’mon, I know you love pop,” he says casually, unbuckling his seatbelt leaving you with no other choice to follow behind him. There’s an odd sense of deja vu that envelopes over you, shoving your pockets into your jacket shyly.

“Remember the last time we were here?” Minghao asks with a chuckle as you guys walk into the store.

“Don’t remind me,” you murmur. “That was a shitty day.”

Minghao gives you a nervous smile as he pulls out a can from the fridge and hands it to you, grabbing his own bottle as well. “Yeah, but Cola made it better, right?”

“I guess it did. Cola always makes things better,” you admit. “Hey, fuck you,” you say jokingly when Minghao pulls out his wallet. “You should’ve taken me here another time when I actually had my wallet—I need to pay you back for that day!” you whine with a pout. “Now I’m in debt to you twice! You’ve bought me two Colas!”

Minghao rolls his eyes playfully as he pays for the drinks. “Yeah well things are different now, and I’m pretty sure my wallet doesn’t care about the cost of two Colas.”

“Is Mr. Big and Famous too good for my money now?” you huff when you step back outside, opening your Cola. “I will pay you back, no matter how stupidly rich you get.”

“I’ll have to hold you to that,” Minghao laughs as you slip back into his car. The air is lighter as he drives you back to your place for real this time, and the lingering feeling of pop on your tongue is sweet and fun.

“Thank you for the ride. And the Cola,” you add when he’s in front of your building.

“You remember what I said?”

You nod as you step out of the car, picking up your brown bag. “Thank you so much for this. I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing. Is there … is there anything else I can do? You want another Cola perhaps?”

“Very funny, but I don’t think I want to be jumping off the walls tonight …” you answer, closing the door but still peering through the open window. You think for a second as you chew your lip, nodding when you come up with something. “But do me a favor … don’t tell Jun.”

Jun takes you out to the lake house he booked three mornings after you met with Renjun and sobbed to Minghao in his car. It’s a refreshing turn of events, if you’re being honest, and you’re eager to sink into a relaxing weekend after a stressful exam season.

Your brother drives the three hours on the way with the promise of you driving on the way home hung over your head. When you reach the house—a medium sized cabin perched right by the lake and surrounded by trees and mountains—you’re greeted with the sight of Minghao sitting in his car and scrolling on his phone.

As you and Jun pile out of the car and grab your bags, Minghao comes out too, walking toward you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Thought you guys would never come. If you were gonna be late you should’ve just given me the keys to this place,” he says with a huff.

“Don’t blame me,” Jun shrugs, locking the car after you’ve both taken out your stuff, walking up to the cabin’s entrance. “She’s the one who wanted to stop and buy some pop.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want it either,” you retort, reaching into your tote bag to hand Minghao a can of Cola. “Here,” you offer with a smile which he returns gleefully.

“Okay actually, totally valid reason,” Minghao says, flicking open the can before taking a sip.

“Hey! Don’t be on her side,” Jun whines as he opens up the cabin. Minghao and you chuckle together, your heart warming at the sound as you three start to load your things into the house. Minghao doesn’t say anything about that night when he picked you up, and for that much you’re grateful. This much, you can manage.

By the time you all have settled your things into your respective rooms it’s noon and the sun pummels down with admirable strength. As you stick your head out of your room, you catch Jun making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom.

“You going for a swim?” you ask, gesturing down to your swimsuit that you’ve already eagerly put on.

“Nah, I’m gonna go later. I need to take a call right now,” he says with a sigh and you nod, about to retreat back to your room before Minghao walks out of his own room.

“I’ll go if you’re going,” Minghao tells you casually, and you don’t waste a second to nod. “Give me five so I can get changed and then we can go out.”

You jump down the hall excitedly after he closes the door behind him, making your way to the backyard porch which leads into a deck over the lake. As you place your towel on one of the chairs outside, you hear the sliding door open.

Minghao walks out shirtless, lower half only covered with his swim trunks as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head lightly as he makes his way towards you, placing his towel next to yours. “Thanks for waiting … shit, it’s hot as hell,” he murmurs, and you’re thankful that you’re facing away from him right now—you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle the proximity and the sight of his bare upper body.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally straightening your back and putting some distance between the two of you when you start walking towards the edge of the deck. “The water’s so clear,” you think out loud, looking down at the blue lake in front of you.

“It’s really pretty … you want a picture?” Minghao suggests, walking up behind you.

“I would, but I left my phone inside.”

“Let’s just take it on my phone,” he says casually, holding up his phone in front of you, waving at you to step back a little so he can take a picture. “A candid one would look pretty with this view—like you’re looking out at the lake and stuff,” he begins to say, placing a smooth hand on your shoulder so he can manually turn you around so that you’re facing away from him.

When he lets his hand drop, it brushes over the curve of your hip and you have to bite down on your lip to stop the pathetic whimper that threatens to escape your lips. Luckily, Minghao can’t see the pained expression that makes its way onto your face as he steps back holding up his phone.

“Okay ready …” he calls out from further behind. “Three … two … one!” You hear a faint tapping sound as you still, letting Minghao take the pictures as you wait patiently. It takes a few moments, and you’re about to ask him how much longer he’s going to go at it before you hear the sound of something being dropped, and then a few rattling thuds.

“Minghao, what—” you begin to question as you slowly turn on your heel but by then it’s too late. “WHAT THE F—”

Your scream is cut off short when Minghao runs forward and lunges at you, one arm wrapping itself around your waist as he jumps into the water, bringing you down with him. The cool water of the lake hits your body and the wind gets punched out of your lungs as you feel your limbs entangle with his. Instinctevely, your arms tighten around one of his as your eyes press closed tightly as you feel your warm body start to level with the temperature around you.

And so even as your legs kick around for a few panicked moments, you begin to feel oddly at peace when your head finally reaches the surface of the water, Minghao’s hand still steady over your hips as you gasp for air.

“You’re a bitch for that,” you say, a few choked giggles escaping your lips as you do. Minghao finally unwinds his arm from yours, and while you miss the contact, his body is still dangerously close to yours, and you figure that that is already more than you can manage.

Minghao smiles gleefully, pushing his face so close that it’s right up in front of you. “Mm maybe, but it was really funny. Got it on video too.”

“What?!” you screech, swimming backward so quickly that you hit  your head on the wooden platform of the deck. “Crap!” you exclaim, hand immediately flying up to press against the throbbing crown of your head. Minghao’s eyes widen with concern as he wades his way towards you, tall enough to still have his feet touch the lake bottom unlike you.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his own hand coming up to feel the back of your head. His eyes are big and brown as he looks down at you, and for this moment, you forget about the dull ache and bask in the way the sun hits his skin so perfectly he glows.

“I’m fine!” you squeak quickly, letting your hand drop so you can tread in the water lightly, slowly moving a safe distance away from the deck.

“A-are you sure?” he probes, making his way to you, and you have a moment to admire him from afar—the way his hair is matted against his forehead and water drops gather at his lashes, making his eyes look prettier than ever.

You chuckle at the way his lips are pursed together apologetically, and you splash some water at him to lighten the mood. “Yes, Minghao, I’m great. I hardly hit myself.” Minghao’s face looks uneasy, and you laugh again.

It takes a few more minutes of you trying to convince him that you’re totally fine before he finally lets it go. Eventually, you find yourself on a big inflated duck-shaped floaty, laying down with your face up and eyes closed. You lose track of time, enjoying the white noise of Minghao splashing around in the water around you, drifting off into a hazy state until you hear a loud yell and feel yourself being flipped over and off your floaty.

“Jun!” you whine, rubbing your eyes as you furiously push hair off your face when you resurface, glaring at both Jun and Minghao laugh side by side. “You guys have to stop doing this to me,” you groan, eyes finally adjusting to its normal state.

“What are you talking about?” Jun asks innocently as you make your way over to the two of them, not bothering to turn your duck floatie back up right. “It was just an accident I fell on you—hey!” he yells out when you lunge at him. Minghao steps back quickly as you and Jun waddle and fight in the water, splashing water at each other while you try and get your revenge.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” Jun admits with a pout. “You didn’t do this to Minghao after he dunked you in the water,” he complains as you release him.

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“He sent me the video.”

“Minghao!” you exclaim, turning to the boy who is now treading around a meter in front of you. He only shrugs and grins cheekily.

“It was really funny,” Jun tells you with a laugh. “I might just post it on my story.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare.”

Jun only shakes his head and starts slowly swimming further into the lake. “Don’t worry—I wouldn’t do that. Minghao can’t have any dating rumors, now can he?”

You chew on your lip, not responding. Minghao doesn’t say anything either, only chuckling along with your brother as he follows after him. You aren’t sure what to say to that, and the comment leaves some uneasy feeling hanging in your stomach.

Fuck, maybe you did hit your head hard.

You three spend a good few hours out in the lake until it’s evening. It’s a slow day and you start to realize just how much you missed spending time with your brother and Minghao like this—it isn’t often they get the opportunity to do things like this, so you’re grateful that they decided to share some of their few days of peace with you.

The second day is even hotter than the first, and you wake from your sleep early in the morning when the sky is still blooming with purple and orange hues. Crawling out from your bed, you make your way downstairs. If it was just you and your brother, you wouldn’t be so mindful about keeping your noise levels down because god knows that Jun can sleep through just about anything, but, Minghao is with you guys now, and you’d hate to sour his experience even just a little by accidentally waking him up for being too loud.

So you can imagine your surprise when you walk into the kitchen to see Minghao already leaning against the counter as he scrolls through his phone. He hasn’t noticed you and you contemplate leaving it like that for a few moments.

He’s wearing a tight fit, black, sleeveless top that shows off the curve of his shoulders and lets the sparkle of his silver chain glint under the morning light. Minghao is attractive—you and the millions of people in his comments know that—and you feel an odd sense of pride well up in your stomach that you’re one of the few people who get to see him like this.

With his hair messy and brushing over his eyes, legs crossed over each other as he presses his body weight against the kitchen island, bare skin glowing from the natural light, he’s beautiful.

Your face heats up when you realize you’ve just been staring at him, so you quickly clear your throat. “Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the kitchen so he can finally see you.

Minghao looks up from his phone, tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants to greet you with a smile. “Hey, I didn’t know you were up. How’s your head doing?” he asks shyly, walking over to casually run his hand over that same spot on the crown of your head.

It’s an oddly intimate gesture, and if you didn’t know any better, your heart might have given out from the way he was touching you. Still, you know he’s just checking to see if it’s swollen, but your heart flutters anyways.

“I-it’s fine,” you reply, opening the fridge to pull out some orange juice as his hand drops. “I didn’t know you were an early riser. Jun always sleeps in whenever he gets the chance.”

“Yeah, well that’s why he’s paged as a literal cat by everyone,” Minghao says with a chuckle as you place a jug on the counter. “Do you want some tea? I’m just boiling the water now so I can add some more if you want.”

“Sure, that’ll be nice.” You pour yourself some orange juice. “Do you want to eat something? I brought some cupcakes to have for breakfast,” you offer, reaching into one of the bags you didn’t unpack to pull out a box.

“Are they those cupcakes?”

“Yup—the one and only!” you exclaim, opening the lid to show him. Minghao grins, pulling two out.

“God, I missed these. Y’know, Jun actually gave your recipe to Mingyu too, but he just doesn’t make them the same,” Minghao tells you, and your eyes light up.

“Really? Poor Mingyu,” you say with a sigh.

“If you ever end up visiting us in Korea, you should really make some,” Minghao suggests as he goes to take care of the boiling water, dropping some tea leaves into it before moving the water into a pot. Then, pulling out two small cups and plates, he says, “Me and Jun have told the others about how good you make them, but they really need to try them.”

“I’d love to,” you say with a grin, giddy with the way Minghao is boosting your ego. As he pours out the tea into two mugs, you put the cupcakes on the small plates, looking out to the glass sliding door which leads to the porch by the lake. “You want to eat outside? The sky looks really beautiful now, and the weather looks like it’s nice too.”

Minghao nods, holding up the two mugs while you grab the plates and follow him outside and onto the little shaded porch where you sit by two of the chairs and the small, knee level coffee table. The sky is still deep in its changing colors, and you pull out your phone to take some pictures.

“Can you take some pictures of me? For my WeVerse and Instagram and stuff?” he asks when you’re done, holding out his phone in your direction.

“Yeah, of course.” Leaning back after you grab his phone, you position yourself as Minghao poses. “Lean back a little more so the background can—yeah, perfect …” You take a few photos, and Minghao nods happily when you show him.

“Can you take some more candid ones?”

“Sure, let’s switch spots. I think it’ll look nicer if it looks like you’re looking out to the lake from here,” you suggest, getting up from your seat. Minghao complies without protest and you spend a few more minutes taking some pictures before finally handing him the phone. “You like them?”

“Hell yeah I do,” he says, looking through his phone. “You’re great at this,” he compliments sincerely.

“I’m used to taking the kinda pictures you guys like now … Jun has trained me well,” you joke, sitting back in the seat and reaching for your own cup of tea. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both relax and watch the sky grow brighter by the minute.

Jun wakes up an hour later, trudging out his room with groggy eyes as you poke fun of him. The morning is slow for a short while after that before Minghao is reminding you all that you need to start heading back home. The two of them are leaving for Korea in two days, after all, and that leaves them with only today and tomorrow to completely bask in themselves and the rest of their family, so you pack your things and end your stay at the cabin before the clock hits noon.

That night, after you drive yourself and Jun home and you retreat to the comfort of your apartment, you flop down onto your couch and pull out your phone. You’re met with a few notifications from WeVerse and Instagram, casually scrolling through the apps when your eyes catch a few familiar pictures.

It’s on Instagram and you recognize the bright orange of the rising sky that sits behind Minghao who is smiling into the camera. The next picture is a candid one of him looking at the lake while he drinks some tea, and the third is a picture of the cupcake you made.

You grin at the picture—the rest of the world won’t know it, but you definitely do—it’s a little piece of you that Minghao is sharing with the world. Though, you aren’t sure if he put as much thought into it as you are right now.

Brushing it off as Minghao just wanting to share a pretty picture of a nice looking cupcake, you purse your lips together only for them to be parted when you read his caption.

i’m a weirdo

Scrolling through the comments, you come across people saying, many among the following:

ur not a weirdo >:c fellow radiohead fanatic i see is the8 a certified creep? o: i didn’t know minghao liked radiohead … another reason to stan!

As you ignore the increased palpitating of your heart at the idea that Minghao quoted a line from, in your opinion, “your guys’ song.” you sit and think for a moment about what to do. You consider just liking the post and scrolling past it before a funny thought crosses your mind, and so you start typing into the comments.

i wonder who took these pics lol

No one’s going to see it. Minghao is definitely not going to see it, but you giggle to yourself anyways. You’re about to put your phone down when you get a notification of a reply to your comment. Curious, you open it up, and see that it’s just a random person.

imagine it’s his gf

You laugh to yourself. You wish.

The last day or two with Jun goes as they always do when he’s here—slow, but all that you need. He spends his time at your parents house and you stop by for lunch and dinner the day after you both return from the lake house.

The afternoon, you both went down to the cafe and stocked up on chocolate buns—Jun’s request—and spent the rest of your time until evening going over your plans for the rest of the summer. You enjoy this part, always. Not Jun leaving—of course not—but spending these tame moments with him.

It makes you wonder what things would have been like if he never left. Maybe he’d move out for university someplace else, but you’d get to see him more, probably. Get to hang out with him every weekend, instead of every two months.

You shake yourself off the thought as you drive to your parents house. Having Jun around more often would be nice, but there isn’t any point in dreaming about the impossible.

As you pull up to the driveway and park your car, you notice Minghao standing out by the front door with his suitcase and a bag. “Hey, looking for Jun?”

“Well, yeah. Of course I wanna say bye to you both before you go … is the van here yet?”

“Nah, it’s still taking some time but Jun is on the other side of the house to see if the car is gonna come from that side,” he explains.

“I’m gonna miss you guys … you know when you’re both going to come next?” you ask, voice softer than you anticipated.

“I really don’t know—I’m sorry. You know how things are.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, shoulders deflating as you look down at the ground..

“I know—it’s not … it's not easy for Jun, either, I can tell. It isn’t easy for any of us to leave.” When Minghao finishes speaking you only nod, and as your eyes meet,you feel like there’s something he wants to say. “Hey,” he murmurs quietly.

A heavy hand is placed on your shoulder, and you feel you might as well sink to the ground and let the earth swallow you up. “If you’re going to talk about—”

“Hear me out, yeah?” Minghao cuts you off, and when you open your mouth in protest, he continues. “Don’t …” he inhales deeply before saying, “Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, okay?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “That really depends on what you’re going to say.”

“Okay, just … just listen. Jun, and me, and Yiren, and Renjun—” God, why is he bringing this up? “—we aren’t trying to hurt you.”

“Of course I know that.” Your eyebrows knit together and Minghao sighs at your reaction, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You miss the touch, but your mind is a little too preoccupied with trying to decipher Minghao’s words to dwell on it.

“I’m just saying … you shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.” You open your mouth and then close it, trying to figure out how the hell he expects you to respond to this.

“What d’you mean?”

“Well I mean,” he huffs before continuing, shoving his hands in his pockets, “you obviously have been … upset about people leaving you and you can’t expect everyone to stick around forever.”

“If you’re talking about Renjun, he was my boyfriend. I think it’s okay for me to expect someone who I’m dating to ‘stick around,’ even though it might not be forever.”

“I guess, but it’s not just Renjun, right? Jun … Yiren … me …” he voice trails off.

“I basically spent my whole middle and high school years around you and Yiren, and Jun is literally my brother. Do you think me wanting the people I quite literally grew up around to be here for me is being ‘dependant?’”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I mean we were all going to grow up eventually? Look, don’t take this the wrong way and—”

“Excuse me?” you blurt out harshly, taking a step back, scoffing before you continue. “I wouldn’t be taking this the wrong way if you obviously didn’t mean it the wrong way. You basically just said I’m not independent.”

Minghao frowns at your reaction before responding, “I didn’t say that. I just said you shouldn’t depend on anyone.”

“Which implies that I am depending on people unnecessarily!”

Minghao adjusts his backpack straps as he says, “I mean you did cry for quite a while about how people are leaving you. I just don’t want you to get more hurt by being dependent on others.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you shoot sarcastically, “but I’m not dependent on anyone. I was upset that night because all the people closest to me have moved away and if you ask any normal person, I’m pretty sure they’d agree that that’s a valid reason to cry a little. So sorry if that was too much for you.” You say the last part with disgust laced on your tongue, and you watch Minghao’s face grow increasingly sour as you go on.

“Okay, now you’re just twisting my words,” Minghao huffs, glancing around to make sure that no one is close by.

“What the hell Minghao,” you scoff, clenching your fists at your side. You don’t want to be the person to jump down his throat, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being talked down to. “Why—why are you acting like I’m still a little kid. I’m more than Jun’s little sister, you do know that right?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Minghao retorts, eyebrows rising in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You think that’s what this is about? For fuck’s sake I’m just looking out for you.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him. “There’s no reason for that! Like I said, I’m not some little girl anymore and I’ve been looking out for myself for years. You just happened to catch me in a moment where I let myself be sad about it which, again, is a totally valid thing to be sad about.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Well congratulations! You were unsuccessful,” you mumble out, feeling an ugly knot build up in your throat. “I trusted you,” you say softly, and Minghao looks at you with eyes so apologetic you almost think about forgiving him. “That night after I saw Renjun—I-I trusted you,” you add more harshly this time. “And I cried to you even though we haven’t properly spoken in fuck knows how long and you take all that and make me out to seem like some sort of defenseless kid—”

“Can you stop—you’re putting words into my mouth. I never said you were defenseless or not independent or anything like that—I don’t even know why you think I would think of you like that because you know that’s not true.”

“Minghao, I don’t know if you’ve realized but it’s been years since we've talked properly. Just because—” You take a deep breath before continuing your bitter words. “—just because you get to live your stupidly amazing life with my brother by your side doesn’t mean that you know me and that I know you, because clearly we don’t know each other at all!”

“I’m sorry?” he says exasperatedly. “Sorry I care about you or whatever, even though things have changed.”

You scowl, and in your right mind you wouldn’t let your next words slip out of your mouth. “Well don’t. I’ve been fine without your sympathy so far, I’m pretty sure I can go on a bit longer.”

Minghao is about to respond, you can tell from the way his hands fiddle at his sides, but then there’s a buzzing and you reach into your pocket to pull out your phone. “Hey Jun,” you say, answering the call without meeting Minghao’s gaze. “… Yeah, he’s with me, we’re just waiting for the car … okay I’ll tell him.”

Tucking the device back into your pocket, you look at Minghao. “Jun is asking for you on the other side of the house. You should go,” you say flatly and you can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more, but holds back.

Grabbing his suitcase, he tears his eyes from you and doesn’t look back after saying, “See you,” walking away and around the corner of the street. There’s that similar chill that takes over your body when Minghao says the same words Renjun said just a few nights before, and you silently wonder if this is history repeating itself.

“So,” Yiren says as she plops down onto your couch, kicking her feet up onto your coffee table. “How’d meeting with Renjun go? He give you your shit back?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” you grumble as you walk over and nudge her legs to get her to put them down. “And you can’t just flop down and sit! Put your suitcase away so it’s not in the middle of the room,” you order, trying to be stern as Yiren sticks her tongue out at you.

“So bossy—your best friend is visiting your cute little abode and you can’t help her out with her stuff?” Yiren juts out her bottom lip into a pout as you sit next to her and wrap your arms around her waist, sinking into the couch. “Okay what’s going on. You’re being extra snappish …” she asks a bit more seriously, pulling away from your hold to get a better look at you. “Was it Renjun? Did he say something before he left?”

“No!” you say quickly, looking away bashfully, leaning back against the arm rest. You fucking wish you were in this sour mood because of Renjun because you could manage that. Renjun is gone, and it would hurt but you’d get over it.

You aren’t sure how long it’ll take to get over Minghao, if you ever do at all.

“Are you lying to me? You know I can tell when you’re not telling the truth.”

“I am telling the truth.” Just not all of it, you think to yourself.

Yiren sighs loudly, sitting up straight and facing you completely. “You are so bad at this. C’mon tell me—what’d he say? Or was it not Renjun—Jun? Which Jun was it? Did you and Jun fight?”

“I—”

“Like that one time two years ago and you didn’t talk to each other until he came back a month later and—”

You cringe at the memory, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Yiren don’t bring that up. I hated that.”

“Okay sorry,” she says sheepishly. “But seriously—what was it? Renjun? Jun? Which one? Or wait—Min—oh my gosh, don’t tell me it was Minghao!” When you take more than a second to respond, Yiren gasps. “Oh god, it was Minghao.”

She stands up quickly, looking down at your figure on the couch. Before you can say anything, she turns on her heel and walks towards your kitchen. “Hey, where are you going!” you call out to her, sitting upright.

Yiren doesn’t respond, only reaching into the fridge and pulling out two cans of pop. Walking back, she sits down in front of you and hands you a Cola, opening her own Sprite herself. “C’mon, you need to tell me about this. The pop is just here for emotional support.”

You narrow your eyes at her. You thought you were dealing with the effects of your argument with Minghao perfectly fine, but as you look down at the cold can in front of you, an uneasy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you set the can down on your coffee table, leaving it unopened.

Yiren gapes at you with wide eyes. “You’re not going to have it?” Neck hanging low, you shake your head, and you hear her gasp quietly. “Oh my gosh, you just turned down a Cola,” she mutters, grabbing a pillow and pushing it in your direction. “Okay now you need to tell me what’s going on.” She pauses, shuffling closer, adding softly, “It’s okay, you can cry.”

And just like that, the dam breaks and stray tears fall from your lashes as you clutch the pillow close to your chest, blubbering your mind away to your best friend.

“I don’t even get it—I thought I was over him?” you question aloud. “Like when I was with Renjun I was happy and I didn’t think about Minghao because Renjun was great and he was so nice but he just—” you choke back a sob and Yiren pats your back.

“But he left,” she murmurs softly and you want to cry harder because Yiren left too, but then you remind yourself of what Minghao said. Taking a deep breath, your wipe your face of your tears and although your lips still quiver, you start to speak.

“It’s okay,” you mutter, because it isn't like you haven’t cried over this before. “I just—I guess I haven’t really tried hard enough.”

“Tried to … what exactly?”

You huff, throwing your back onto the couch as you look up at the ceiling. “You know: get over him.”

Yiren chuckles a little, and even through your sniffles, you laugh with her. “What are you saying—you gonna fuck around now?”

“Maybe not fuck around,” you say, crossing your legs. “More like … have some fun.”

“So basically fuck around.”

“Yiren!”

“Oh c’mon—you need me to set you up with someone? My sister knows a lot of—”

You nudge her playfully. “What happened to ‘Ms. I Want Half of the Proceeds from your Wedding with Minghao?’”

“First of all,” Yiren waves a finger at you pointedly, “I only asked for 25%, but if you two can come back from this, I will be asking for at least 50% because I have been rooting for you two since day one.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s trying to set me up with other guys?”

“That’s only because you come first to me. Your relationship with Minghao—”

“The nonexistent one,” you correct and Yiren glares at you.

“Okay fine. Your nonexistent relationship with Minghao comes second. I want to see you happy. If you get to be happy with Minghao that’s just an added plus because, you know, 50% of all the gifts and—”

“You’re getting 25% max.”

“Don’t worry. There’s still time for plenty of negotiation and—”

“Yiren!”

You don’t live up to Yiren’s expectations—in her words, she wanted you to have a hot girl summer, but you couldn’t be bothered to go through with it. Well, sort of.

The next two months go along as your summers usually do. You take up a job near your apartment, working through the morning and afternoon, spending your evenings at home or occasionally out with Jianing.

Jianing doesn’t know much about anything when it comes to your (nonexistent) relationship with Minghao, and you figure she doesn’t need to. When you need a distraction, all it takes is a quick message asking her to accompany you for whatever endeavors you have going on for the night and she’s on board.

It’s a slow summer, but you don’t really mind. Not burdened with the stress of your classes and with Jun and Minghao gone for the next two months for their own performances and promotions, you have time to focus on yourself.

Occasional parties, indulging in hobbies, daily walks in the mornings, late nights of binge watching TV shows, outings with Jianing—it’s all a part of a simple routine that you’ve curated to do one thing, and one thing only: relax.

It’s only near the end of the summer, around three weeks before your classes are set to resume, that Jun calls you to let you know he’s coming home with Minghao. He seems pretty casual about it, and you’re reminded about how Minghao probably didn’t mention anything about your argument to your brother, which you’re thankful for.

It’s a passing thought that you’ll have to figure out how you want to act when you finally face him again. Whatever. That’s a problem for another time. Right now, you relax.

That problem for another time seems to have become a problem for now. Jun came home two days ago and things were alright—no run-ins to Minghao and you spend time with your brother like you usually do whenever he returns: with bickering and meals.

It’s only on the third day that things become a little … a little iffy. Your brother texts you in the evening to get ready quickly because he’s stopping by with Minghao for dinner at his place, and it’s all happening so quickly that you don’t have time to come up with an excuse.

So here you are, throwing on your sacred pink jacket because it’s the first thing in your vision, some old jeans, and waiting outside your apartment building much less enthusiastically than you’d like. It’s only a matter of minutes before your phone buzzes with a text from Jun letting you know he’s here and you see Minghao’s car pulling up in front of you.

Making your way to the back door where you usually sit with the two of them, you furrow your brows seeing Jun sitting in your usual spot.

“Sit in the front,” Jun orders when you go to open the back door, “I wanna lay down.” You shrug, making your way to the passenger seat as Jun settles into the back, resting his head on the window while kicking his legs up onto the other two seats.

“Hi,” you say quietly to Minghao who nods and speaks his own quick greeting, averting his attention to the wheel in front of him without much more than that.

“Please,” he huffs, watching Jun through the rear view mirror, “don’t put your shoes on the seats. I just had the car cleaned.” Jun clicks his tongue and kicks his shoes off, continuing to lay back in the seat as Minghao starts the car. The ride is silent as he drives toward the restaurant, both you and Jun on your phones while Minghao has his eyes trained on the road.

Once he parks in front of the place, you watch from the corner of your vision to see Minghao unbuckling his seatbelt before your brother speaks up.

“You guys can wait here, I’m gonna grab the food,” Jun says, slipping in his shoes and making his way to the restaurant, leaving you and Minghao in thickening silence. His hands are resting on his thighs and you press your head on the window, looking out as you try to focus on anything but this.

“Uh,” Minghao clears his throat, and you silently brace yourself for what he might say. “Nice jacket.”

Oh.

Glancing down at what you’re wearing, you twiddle with the hem of the familiar pink jacket. You wonder if this is Minghao’s way of holding out a figurative olive branch, and then you think harder about if you’re willing to accept it. “Thanks,” you reply, matting a hand over your hair before turning your attention to Jun who’s walking towards your car now.

Slipping into the back seat, he shakes the plastic bag in the air as he buckles himself in. “Takeout secured. Let’s go back to your place now,” Jun says, tapping on Minghao’s shoulder from behind. There’s an odd tension in the air, and you don’t doubt that Jun feels it, although he keeps his mouth shut about it.

No one says a word until Minghao is parking in his driveway and unlocking the front door. You follow behind the two of them, Jun grabbing the food as you enter Minghao’s house.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jun asks, putting the takeout bag on the coffee table of the living room as you all begin to settle down.

You shrug off your coat as you say, “Uh, I have to go back to my place and go out for the afternoon and evening with Jianing. Me and her have this little monthly date day thing, and we’re going to the city.”

“Wha-a-a-t,” Jun drawls out, a frown etched onto his face. You narrow your eyes at him, shrugging.

“What? It’s not like you’re leaving right after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I’m not here for long. I wanted to do something tomorrow, since I might be doing stuff after that!” Jun whines, pointing at Minghao. “We might be going to this cool store and take some pictures and stuff.”

You huff, slightly annoyed as you flop down on a couch. “Okay well can’t you do that tomorrow then? I already have plans.”

Jun pouts, and if he wasn’t so on your nerves right now, you would poke some fun at him. “Why-y-y? You knew I was coming this week!”

“Well it’s not like I can clear my schedule for you. If you wanted to do something you should’ve told me earlier!”

“I let you know last week I was coming down!”

“Jun,” you say with a half laugh, noticing the way Minghao’s eyes have been flickering back and forth between you two through the whole conversation, “one week is not enough time to change some plans. I’ve been meeting with Jianing consistently at this time of month for over a year!”

“But still—”

“It’s not like if I showed up to Korea whenever the time’s convenient for me, you’d drop everything you’re doing to spend time with me!” you exclaim.

Jun’s fists ball at his side before he says, “That’s because my job is important and—”

“The stuff I do in my life might not seem important to you but it is very much important to me. Sorry I’ve made commitments to other people before I even knew you were coming, but I don’t know why you’d expect me to drop all my plans just for you. It’s not even like we aren’t going to see each other afterwards too.”

“Well I’d only hope that’s the case—I only ever see you once every few months so sorry for wanting to take some of your time.”

“Guys—” Minghao starts to say, standing between the two of you but when both you and Jun glare at him, he steps back.

“Do you think your time is worth more than mine or something?” you scoff at Jun, ignoring Minghao.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly did you mean it like then?” you hiss.

Jun sucks in a breath between clenched teeth and runs a hand through his hair. “You know what I meant. Things are just—they’re different. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right yeah. I won’t understand because I don’t have all these girls throwing themselves at me, making me think I’m entitled to everyone’s damn time.” Maybe you crossed a line with that one, but you’re too angry to care now. Hot tears well up in your lash line, threatening to fall any moment now.

“You were the one who was being a brat when you found out I was going to go to Korea in the first place!” Jun exclaims. “Fucking hell, why are you making such a big deal out of me wanting to spend some time with you now?”

Your face screws up into some kind of ugly frown at the words, and you clench your fists as your side. “A brat?” you repeat. “A brat? Is that seriously what you think of me?

“Well you did make a pretty damn big scene about me leaving, so yeah, maybe I do feel entitled to some of your time seeing that you were the one who was desperate for it in the first place.”

“Desperate? Are you kidding me—desperate? I was sixteen and you dumped the fact that you were moving away in like less than two months on me —of course I was upset but desperate? Well fuck you too I guess.” You punctuate the last word by turning on your heel, grabbing your coat off and marching past Minghao and over to the door.

You don’t hear Jun say anything after you do, and for that you are grateful because you don’t think you’ll be able to handle hearing his voice again. Walking out the foyer past the door, you stomp your way to your car, forcefully yanking the driver’s seat open and plopping yourself down with a heavy thud.

Without a word, you press your forehead against the steering and scream a loud and painful, “FUCK!” You can’t even remember a damn thing you or Jun said but all that throttles in your head is the word brat and you feel you might just pull the steering wheel off your stupid car and tear just about everything else apart too.

The prospect is pretty tempting, actually, and in your red, you continue to hit your head, albeit gently, against the wheel as you mutter incoherent curses to yourself. The thud of your skull against the smooth letter rings in your ears until it becomes all that you can hear, so loud that it almost drowns out the knocking sound that comes from outside.

“Holy shit!” you gasp, when you see Minghao from the corner of your vision, standing outside your car with his lips pressed into the thin line. Rolling down your windows, you grimace. “You fucking scared me so bad. Please never creep up on me like that again.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t fucking storm out like that again then,” Minghao says, and your eyes widen slightly when you hear his voice. It’s harder, firmer, more serious than you’ve ever heard before.

“What are you—”

“You can’t drive when it’s night and you’re sobbing—”

“I am not sobbing,” you fruitlessly choke out, wiping some tears off your cheek as you straighten your back and glare at him.

“Look I get you’re mad at Jun and all but can you please calm down and talk to me so—”

You let out a humorless laugh as you begin to roll your windows back up. “Don’t even get me started on you.”

Minghao clicks his tongue as he sticks a hand into your window to stop it from going up any further, looking sideways for a second before turning back to you. “Okay well I don’t want you to drive yourself home like this. It’s not safe.”

“I am not staying here tonight.”

“Then let me drive you home,” Minghao suggests and you open up to object but no words come out. “You agree? C’mon, step out.” You let out nothing more than a huff as you open the door, slipping out quickly and shuffling to the other side where you sit with your arms crossed over your chest, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

Minghao has already taken your spot, hands on the same steering wheel that you were planning on smashing with your head just minutes ago. He’s quiet for a few moments as he backs out of the driveway and starts driving down the street, the car echoing nothing but your soft sniffles that haven’t seemed to stop.

When Minghao opens his mouth again, you’re bracing yourself for a round of chiding, but all that comes out is a one-word question. “Pop?” He takes your silence as a confirmation, and soon enough Minghao is pulling up to that same convenience store. “Do you want me to get it for you?” he asks after he’s parked in front of the convenience store.

You purse your lips together, finally letting yourself turn to look at him. You really want to be mad at him but when you catch the way his fingers are shoved into his pockets, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he awaits your answer, you start to realize that Minghao might be just as apprehensive about this as you are.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, unbuckling your seatbelt so you can get out, Minghao following you quickly.

You’re the first to walk in this time, grabbing a Cola for yourself before looking at Minghao with a raised brow. When he nods, you toss him another can and he makes his way to the cash register. He’s about to pull out his wallet when you’re brushing past him and getting there first, holding up your card to the machine proudly.

“Just because I don’t want to be in any more debt to you,” you murmur, handing Minghao a can after you’ve paid for them both. You lead the way, walking out of the door and slotting yourself into the passenger seat of your car and Minghao gets into the seat next to you, turning on the engine.

You’re still quiet when he starts driving towards your apartment building, and you think that this is the perfect chance for you to drown in the silence. Maybe if you pretend you’re alone, you’ll be able to forget about all the thoughts running through your mind.

Pressing your eyes shut, you slump down into your seat and just as you’re about to let your mind drift into the silence, you hear a familiar rattle of the snare and guitar bridge and your eyes snap open, staring at Minghao directly. He faces forward, eyes trained on the road as he pulls closer to the curb in front of your complex, sighing deeply when the car starts to slow down.

“What are you trying to do Minghao?” you finally say weakly, burying your face in your hands. “You—you’re playing Creep and you took me to get Cola and all you were supposed to do was take me home so—”

“Can I not try to make you feel better? I don’t want you to be upset, so I’m sorry if I’m trying to do the things I know you enjoy,” Minghao responds with a heavy breath, parking in front of your building just like that night he did when he picked you up from the bus stop after you met with Renjun.

The deep strumming of guitar and vibrations of the bass bounce off the walls of your car, and you slip into your seat as the words of the song sink in.‘What the hell am I doing here?’ Glancing up at Minghao, your vision grows blurry. “Minghao …” your voice is quiet and strained when you call for him, and in that moment, you know.

All those years ago when you wanted to kiss him and hold him and pull him close, but you didn’t because you were scared. When you wanted to let your tongues collide and tug at his hair, but you didn’t because you had so much to lose.

You still have so much to lose, but you’re not scared anymore.

And it seems Minghao isn’t either.

Tonight, you get to taste the lingering drops of Cola on his tongue. You get to feel his arms fumbling over the armrest, slipping around your waist and yanking you onto his lap. You get to hold his neck and let your fingers sit in his hair. You get to indulge.

Minghao’s mouth is hot against yours, tongue lapping at your bottom lip when you take a sacred moment to breathe on top of him before your eyes are fluttering back shut and your lips mold into one once again. He hugs you so close you don’t know how you can still breathe, don’t know how your bones don’t melt into each other in this burning moment.

Your lips work fervently to slide against each other in a wet, calculated mess that has you whimpering into Minghao’s mouth when one of his hands cups your jaw. His thumb is soft against your cheekbone when he tilts your head to the side so that your noses brush against either and his lips delve deeper into the caverns of your mouth.

You don’t know how long you two go at it, fingers grappling at whatever skin you can, Minghao’s hand brushing under your shirt and stroking the plush of your hips. And when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore because your heart is so full, you pull away, letting the thin string of saliva connect your shiny lips.

Your brain is foggy and you and Minghao simply sit in the comfortable silence. Well, almost comfortable silence.

You shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.

“W-wait,” you stutter when Minghao leans forward in hopes to catch your lips in another fleeting kiss. “Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, pushing his shoulders back against the seat as you try to shuffle off his lap.

Minghao holds your waist tightly, but you break free of the grasp. “What are you doi—hey, wait a sec!”

“You said you’re trying to make me feel better but you just did exactly the opposite,” you scoff, slipping on your coat as you push the car door open.

“What are you talking abo—” You cut him off by slamming the door, and Minghao quickly grabs your keys and follows after you. “Slow down.”

You whip around to face him, tears streaming down your face for what feels nth time tonight. “Look, you left like two months ago spewing all this stuff about how I should be independent but the second you come back you act like you’re trying so hard to make me feel better and stuff and then—” You take a deep breath, “—then we makeout and you—fuck I don’t know, I don’t know what you expect from me! Do you just expect me to forget about this and not get upset when you leave again?” you choke out. “Just keep my keys and drive yourself back to your place. I’ll pick up my car later,” you mutter.

“Can you stop doing this? It’s just like what happened last time, and I don’t want to have to leave if you’re—if we’re not okay.”

“What ‘we?’ Weren’t you the one who told me to not expect anyone to stay? I’m not going to do this ‘we’ and ‘us’ thing with someone who is just going to leave all over again. I’m not going to expect you to stay.”

“Look, I just don’t want this to be hanging over your head when I’m gone.”

Ironic, you think to yourself. You want to tell Minghao that he’s been hanging over your head ever since you met him all those years ago, but you bite back the words.

“Minghao,” you say, your voice strained and tired, “I’m already exhausted and my brain isn’t working so can you please just give me my space.”

And if Minghao is one thing, it’s not pushy, and you know that this is all it takes to get him to back off. Though, you don’t miss the way his face falls as he steps back quietly.

“See you,” he mutters through gritted teeth as he turns on his heel, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or bothered by the way he leaves so silently.

You don’t see Minghao or Jun after that night. They’rewere  supposed to leave for Korea in the next four days, and so you spend those four days lodged up in your apartment, not leaving unless absolutely necessary—you’re scared that you might run into one of them, as pathetic as that sounds.

Jun doesn’t text you and you don’t text him. It’s a bit abnormal, you two communicate at least once every two days, if not more. It’s a bit of an unspoken rule, but now that you’re both hot-headed and very much not in the right mind, you figure some rules are meant to be broken.

It’s two days after Jun and Minghao were scheduled to leave, the only confirmation that you got that they actually did leave being the group picture at the airport your father sent to the family group chat.

Jianing comes to your apartment when you finally call her over, quickly picking up on your sullen state.

“I don’t get it,” she says with a shrug after you explain to her everything that happened between you and Jun and Minghao.

“Well yeah, I guess you don’t, but this has been going on for a while,” you reply begrudgingly, sinking into your couch as she stares at you blankly from your armchair.

“Just—I dunno—talk to them?”

You give her a funny look. “How?” you groan, throwing your head back. “They won’t be back for like a month at least, and I don’t want to call them.”

“I forget they’re famous sometimes” Jianing mutters, rolling her eyes, and you laugh at the comment.

“You and me both,” you say, straightening your back.

“But still, I don’t get it. I mean just visit them?” she suggests casually.

“I can’t just fly up to Korea unannounced!” you exclaim, bewildered.

Jianing rolls her eyes at you and you frown. “Why not? I mean you just said this might go on for a while if you don’t talk to them so I don’t get it. Just go see them.”

YOURS TRULY

you: chan i need ur help [8:13 AM] chan: this is ur first time texting me in three months [8:15 AM] chan: so i am going to assume this is pretty important [8:15 AM] you: i’m at incheon airport [8:16 AM] chan: what [8:17 AM] you: what [8:17 AM] chan: jun didn’t say anything about u coming??! [8:19 AM] you: DON’T TELL HIM [8:19 AM] chan: what … [8:20 AM] you: i’m surprising him [8:20 AM] chan: ????? [8:21 AM] chan: who knows [8:21 AM] you: um you do [8:21 AM] chan: thank u [8:22 AM] chan: so what do u need [8:22 AM] you: can u pick me up [8:23 AM] chan: i don’t have a choice do i [8:24 AM] you: nope :3 [8:24 AM]

When black SUV stops in front of you by the curb at the airport, you smile brightly, waving at the driver as the windows begin to roll down. You’re about to chirp a quick, “Hi Chan!” but the words get caught in your throat when you see who’s driving.

“Jeonghan?” you ask confusedly. He waves at you from the front seat, and Chan sticks his head in from the back to look at you through the window.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, opening the door to help you pull in your suitcase and get situated into the back seat. “Look, I tried to leave without anyone noticing but they saw me so I told them I was going to the gym, but he said he wanted to come and —” Chan glares at the man in the passenger seat, “— I don’t even know why since he hasn’t gone to the gym in ages—”

“Watch it Chan!” Jeonghan calls out from the front as the cat starts to move, pulling an eye roll out of the boy sitting next to you.

“Whatever. Basically, I had no choice but to bring him along and tell them I was actually picking you up.”

“You guys didn’t tell Jun, did you?” you ask worriedly.

“I—no,” Jeonghan says. “And even if we tried, he won’t be awake for another hour or whatever. That’s besides the point anyways—Chan is terrible at lying.”

“You caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this morning, so I didn’t have any excuses prepared …” Chan huffs, sinking into his seat as you glance back and forth between them nervously.

“Thank you for trying anyways,” you say sincerely, adjusting in your seat. “I know this was all really sudden but I didn’t plan anything out and I kinda ended up here before I could even process anything,” you add.

“Hey, Minghao was telling us about these really good cupcakes you make—if you have time, can you bake them for us?” Chan asks, out of the blue.

You give him a funny look and then smile. “Sure, if I have the time. I’d like to—they told me Mingyu tries to make them for you guys.”

“Yeah! That would—”

“Thank you, but I’m going to assume that you are here for a reason other than making us your infamous cupcakes,” Jeonghan says, merging onto the freeway.

“As much as I’d love for that to be why I’m here, you’re right,” you mutter, resting your head against the headrest.

“Is everything alright?” Jeonghan asks.

As you’re about to respond, Chan chimes in. “This is about Jun, isn’t it?”

“Ai—Channie, don’t jump to conclusions,” Jeonghan reprimands but Chan shakes his head, holding his hand up as he turns to you with wide eyes.

“No, no, I’m not assuming anything. I’m right, aren’t I?” Partly. Chan continues. “Well it’s just—I can kinda tell. He’s being a little snappier. Jeonghan wouldn’t know but—“

Jeonghan gives Chan a warning look through the rear view mirror. “What do you mean I wouldn’t know?”

“Hannie, just listen to me. So me and Soonyoung and Minghao and Jun have been practicing at night right—for that next performance—and you know that Jun has a bit of a temper, especially in the night, but I don’t know—it’s just been different recently.”

You stifle a scoff when Chan mentions Jun having a short temper, looking out the window hoping no one heard. Jun does have a bit of a fiery streak, but the truth is that you’re just as sporadic as him.

Fire meets fire. Huh, wonder what that makes. More fire, probably. That’s what got you here, isn’t it? Unfortunately.

“Has, uh,” you pause wondering if you should ask this, but curiosity does kill the cat, after all. “Has Minghao seemed … off?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you. “What’s Minghao got to do with this? Did something happen with him too?” Curse that emotionally intelligent man.

Chan eyes flicker between the ground and you. “It’s hard to tell when Minghao is upset. He seems normal even when he’s upset so I can’t really tell … why though?”

“Just—just a lot of stuff. I think I need to see them both. Separately.”

Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips together before responding, “Do you need our help?”

Jeonghan takes you to his apartment first so you have a moment to drop your suitcase off somewhere, and you get to say hi to Seungkwan who you’re pretty sure didn’t even recognize you in his drowsy state.

“Where’re we going?” you ask when you get back outside of the building heading towards the car.

“C’mon, let’s walk,” Chan says, pulling you away from the car.

“Jun’s apartment building is just down the street here,” Jeonghan explains. “He should be sleeping right now, so just wake him up.”

“Are you kidding me? He might kill me!” you complain with a frown.

Chan huffs, “Well you did come here unannounced and without a plan, so you don’t have much of a choice anyways.”

You chew on your lip as you fruitlessly try to come up with an answer, sighing in defeat when you come up with nothing.

“Exactly,” Jeonghan concludes, stopping in front of a building that’s built similar to his. “Anyways, his suite number is 345 on the third floor. You should know the code to his apartment right?”

You nod, but then shake your head. “I know it, but I think I’ll just knock until he wakes up. He might actually kill me if someone shows up inside his home unannounced.”

Chan laughs at that when the two of you lead you to the elevator of this new building. “That, he might.”

“So encouraging,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out at them as the elevator door opens. “Anyways, thank you for helping me, really. I’ll make cupcakes if I make it out of this alive,” you promise while you step in.

“You better!” Jeonghan calls out as the doors slide shut and the elevator begins to take you up.

It’s now, when you’re alone, that it all begins to sink in. You’re in Korea. You’re about to see Jun. You might die—okay maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you aren’t sure what to do with yourself so your mind is jumping towards the worst possible scenario as you reach the third floor and make your way to his apartment.

You stand in front of room 345 for a few moments once you arrive, not even sure if you’ll manage to go through with this. What the fuck are you even going to say?

(Un?)fortunately, you have a tendency to not think before you act, and before you have a second of thought your knuckles are rapping against the door. It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if you should go again.

Taking a deep breath, you continue knocking on the door at a steady rate before you hear soft footsteps growing louder in volume until they stop at the door. You hold your breath and let your hand fall, fisting it at your sides in anticipation.

When you see the door crack open, a wave of relief washes over you. But when you see Jun’s blank face as he looks down on you, a new sense of uneasiness takes over.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” Ah, how nostalgic.

“So cold. You aren’t going to let me in?”

Jun rolls his eyes, and you grow more anxious because you can’t tell if he’s being playful or not. He steps to the side though, and you quickly slip through the door so he can close and lock it behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he reiterates and you feel your tongue go dry.

“Uh, Chan told me that you’re being—well—how do I put this?” you mutter to yourself, rocking back and forth on your feet.

“Difficult?” Jun guesses, bitterness laced in the word and you cringe at the tone.

“I guess.”

“I don’t think you came all the way to Korea just because Chan told you I was being difficult.”

“I, uh, I talked to Jianing about it when she visited and … I guess I felt I should come see you.”

“So if Jianing didn’t talk to you about this, then you just wouldn’t have talked about it?” Jun asks harshly and you glare at him.

“Well it’s not like you would’ve come talk to me about it either,” you retort, and Jun goes quiet at them. “And Jianing didn’t make this decision for me, by the way, I made it all by myself.”

“Okay well you’re here now. What is it?” An uncomfortable silence sits between you two. “If you only came here to just stand there and stare off into space then—”

“Jun, please shut your mouth for like one minute,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I wanted to apologize. That night I … I was on edge.” Jun watches you intently as you finally meet his gaze. “There was a lot running through my mind and I was just—just fucking annoyed at everything and I took everything you said the worst way.”

A feeling of worry climbs up your throat—you and Jun don’t often apologize, at least not like this. Apologies usually come in the form of figurative olive trees—you buy him a LEGO set, he buys you a gift card to your favorite cafe, or something among that. Then again, this isn’t your usual argument with Jun, and maybe sometimes resorting to more traditional methods are most effective.

Jun sighs softly, not looking at you, and you grow worried that he’s even more angry than you anticipated. You brace yourself for his next possible words. “I … I did say some mean stuff too. I’m sorry—I just—I have a shitty temper. You know that. Chan probably told you that too.” Jun is silent for a second before continuing. “Is … is everything okay?”

The question isn’t quite what you’re expecting and you press your lips together tightly because you want to cry. You want to let the tears stream down your cheeks and tell Jun that you have no idea but also the perfect idea of what you’re doing and it’s all jumbled up mess in your head.

“I guess—I mean, I hate fighting with you,” you admit. “But, that’s why I came here and we didn’t say goodbye the last time and I know that was partly my fault but also I missed you.”

“But are you okay?”

“Jun—”

“Because I know you’re stubborn—it really is annoying sometimes but I’m not one to complain,” he adds with a huff, “and I know you’re a little weird—”

You both laugh and you point a finger at him, “Watch it—you and me both.”

“Whatever,” he says lightly before turning to a more serious tone. “But I never thought we’d fight again like that one time two years ago and—”

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up!? Yiren said that too,” you sigh.

“To make a point. Which, by the way, is me going back to asking you if everything’s okay. I just … I know that you’re a little crazy but I never thought that you’d fly over here for something that we could probably sort out over the phone. Not that I’m not glad to see you here, I mean, I am, I’m just … worried.”

“I kissed Minghao,” you blurt out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth after you do.

“What?!” Jun’s eyes go wide for a moment before he relaxes a little. “Is that what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean ‘up with me?’”

“Moody. Cranky. Like you’re in high school again.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You chew on your lip as you try to read Jun’s expression. He doesn’t seem mad nor happy nor confused, and you’re running out of emotions to label him under.

“I knew you liked him in high school, you know. Thin walls, plus Yiren is loud as hell.”

“Ugh, I always told her to keep it down! She didn’t believe me!”

“Doesn’t matter now. What you or him do isn’t much of my business anyways,” Jun mutters, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodies. “I mean I guess it is, if it makes you all upset and not okay like this,” he continues.

You can tell he’s encouraging you to explain more, and you press your eyes together trying to figure what and what not you should say. “Has Minghao … has he seemed different?”

“I mean not really, but also it’s hard to tell with him because—” Your whole finger droops and Jun quickly places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, what is this about? Did something happen? You know you can tell me.”

“It’s a lot,” you confess. “I don’t know, I-I came here to talk to the both of you but I haven’t even thought about what to say to him. I kind of booked my tickets last night.”

“Last night?!”Jun exclaims. “Are you stupid or what?”

“Maybe I am!” you murmur, slapping your palm against your forehead. Jun looks down at your pained expression and frowns.

“You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”

“What happened to, ‘I don’t care what you guys do it isn’t my business?’”

“Well it is my business if you’re upset! I’m the only person who’s allowed to be a bitch to you.”

“Well ditto to you too!” You follow with a sigh. “I think I just need to talk to him.”

“He’s at the gym right now. Do you want to get coffee instead?”

“Hogging me all to yourself? I know you missed me but don’t you think this is a little unfair—I’d like to at least say hi to the others first. Or maybe have some time to sleep. I kind of got here at like seven in the morning.”

“Be grateful! I’m actually looking out for you, because they’ll literally hound you, plus I want to make up for not spending time with you last time I visited.”

You grin at the words, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“When do I not pay for you?”

“Loads of times!”

“That’s because you insist on paying for yourself.”

“Irrelevant!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving a fist in the air before Jun locks his arm around your neck and traps you in a headlock. Good times.

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously behind your back as you wait in the elevator with Jeonghan. Jun had to take care of something with one of the other members, so he sent you off with the older boy to take you to the meeting room.

“He’ll be there, don’t worry,” Jeonghan tells you as he pats your shoulder lightly. “I just checked his location and I’m positive he’s there right now.”

“Thanks,” you say with a sigh, shifting your weight from leg to leg, “but I’m more worried about what I’m going to say. I think you already know but I planned like zero percent of this.”

“It’s becoming increasingly evident, unfortunately,” Jeonghan admits when the elevator dings and the door opens onto a floor full of rooms. “You’ll figure it out, I’m sure, seeing as you’re just like Jun.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeonghan chuckles and leads you to a door a few steps down the hallway, pointing to it. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be in there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be down on floor three making some ramen,” he says cheerily, waving at you before retreating to elevatory before you have even a moment to protest.

So now you’re left with nothing but yourself and yet another door. This time, instead of knocking your life away, your hand is pressed against the knob as you debate whether or not you should turn it or not.

Once again, your body acts without your mind and you’re quietly opening the door and poking your head through the crack. Inside is Minghao with headphones over his ears, sitting at the end of a long table with his head crooked down as he scrolls through his lap top.

He doesn’t hear you, but you aren’t sure if it’s for the better or the worse. In some ways, you still have a chance to run, but in others, you’ll have to call out to him if you want him to notice you. Gulping, you realize that you’ve been too scared for too long and so you clear your throat.

“Minghao,” you call out.

It only takes a second for his eyes to shoot up, hands flying to his headphones to take them off as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. You’re at opposite ends of the room right now, and you nervously shut the door behind you as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“I—” You inhale sharply. “—I don’t know. I just think we both needed to talk.”

You can see him visibly gulp as he stands up, and looks away as if trying to figure out what he should do with himself.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, dread washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, face burning. “I know I just showed up like this without warning and I know that’s not fair so if you don’t want to talk you know I totally get it and—” you start to blabber so fast you hardly notice him walking over and down the length of the table, “—I just really wanted to see you and talk to you but I couldn’t do it over the phone because—”

“Slow down,” Minghao says firmly, now standing in front of you as he gazes down with wide eyes. “Is everything okay? When did you come here—wait, did you come here just to talk to me?”

“Well yeah. And Jun.”

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks softly. “This doesn’t seem like you.”

You wince at the familiar words but shake it off. “I know, I just had so much to say and I’m sorry because you were right, and when you said you didn’t want this hanging over my head I was angry and I thought I could ignore this and ignore you but I was wrong and just really needed to sort things out. And the night you picked me up after Renjun and all—I know you told me to not depend anyone or anything—and I know I’m not listening to you right now and I don’t want you to be disappointed but—”

“Stop,” Minghao says, holding a hand up. “Disappointed? I—please don’t think that. The stuff I said that night was …” he sighs before continuing. “You were so upset that night because you didn’t have us around and I felt so bad but also, there wasn’t anything I could do about that.”

“I …” your eyebrows knit together as you try to find the right words. “… I know that. I didn’t mean to make it feel like you had to change anything, or that it was your fault.”

“I know and—”

“Wait, please hear me out. I don’t want to ever make you think that I blame you or Jun for leaving—I-I’m so happy for you guys you don’t understand. I was just … I was bitter,” you admit. “And I was jealous of you because you get to be around my own brother more than me and … I guess I was also jealous of Jun because he gets to be around you so often too.”

You finish your confession by burying your face in your hands, face heating up as you can only imagine the look on his face. He says your name softly, and you peek up at him through the gap between your fingers.

“Hey, no, I get it. I mean, I guess I don’t exactly understand how you’re feeling but I don’t blame you either.”

“I wrote you a letter,” you blurt out, a hand digging into your pocket as it toys around with the folded paper inside. Minghao raises a brow, and you pull it out and hold it in front of him. “Right after you guys left,” you explain as he takes the paper from your hand, carefully unfolding it. “Don’t open it now! That’s … embarrassing. Just read it when I’m not here or something because I might just die out of humiliation.”

When Minghao chuckles, you feel some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. “Noted,” he murmurs, tucking it into the pocket of his sweats before turning his attention back to you with a more serious expression which has your stomach tying up in knots.

“You know how my job is. I can’t promise how often I’ll be home and when I’ll be able to make time and I know that people leaving hurt you so much and … I guess I just didn’t want to give you hope that I would be able to give you a ‘normal’ relationship, because I can’t, even though I want to. I think when I told you all that, I just—fuck—I hoped that you’d be able to focus on someone better for you.”

You want to cry and tell him that you don’t want someone ‘better,’ but choose to save those words for a different time. “T-then why’d you kiss me that night?” you ask quietly.

“I—” Minghao pauses, looking down as he searches for what he’s about to say. “I only have so much self control.”

You chew on your lip, debating if you should frown or grin at his statement. “So you—you wanted to kiss me?” Minghao responds in a heartbeat.

“Of course I did,” and then he clears his throat, “I wanted to for a while. I still do.”

Chuckling nervously, you start to say, “I don’t kn—”

The air is successfully sucked from your lungs when Minghao slides his hand around your neck, angling your jaw up with his gentle thumb. You think you might just go dizzy from the way he’s touching you until his warm mouth presses against yours, and this is the moment you feel every last muscle in your body let go.

He kisses you softer than the first time, his tongue running against your bottom lip for only a moment before you let your hand grip at his torso instinctively. “Sorry,” Minghao murmurs sheepishly when he breaks away. “Told you. Only so much self control.”

“I-I won’t complain,” you admit quickly, and though you let your hand drop to your side, Minghao keeps his where it is: cradling your cheek. He’s quiet for a moment before whispering again, and the words make your face burn and your heart fly around in circles.

“Can I kiss you again?”

link to smut!

“You have everything? Your tickets?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe. You’re both standing outside your parents house right now, waiting for Jun to finish his last bit of packing (why he was so insistent on you two coming quickly when even he wasn’t ready is still a mystery to you) so you can call over the van to take them to the airport.

Minghao shrugs at you, pulling out his wallet to look through the pockets to double check. As he’s shuffling through them, a familiar piece of paper sticks out and grabs your attention. “You keep my letter in your wallet?”

Minghao nods, seemingly unbothered by your surprise. “Yeah. Where else would I keep it?”

“Well, I don’t know but—”

“It’s a cute letter!” Minghao reasons. “And I like having it with me. Like a little good luck charm.”

You press a kiss to his cheek when he says that, but continue to say, “I don’t get what’s so cute about me getting drunk and writing to you.”

“Okay that part, I don’t like. Seriously. Underage drinking is not cool,” Minghao mutters. “But the rest of the letter is pretty nice I guess,” he teases, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

“Pretty nice?” you scoff, trying to snatch the wallet back from him to grab your letter. He swipes it away too quickly though, and you’re left pawing at his chest to try and get it back. “You don’t deserve that letter! I put my heart and soul into it!”

“Heart and soul? I think you mean you poured five shots of vodka into it.” You frown deeply, and Minghao relaxes his shoulders. “Okay I’m sorry—you know I love the letter.”

“Do I?” you huff stubbornly, looking at the ground.

Minghao traces a hand down your face and tilts your chin upwards. “C’mon look at me,” he murmurs, and you begrudgingly meet his gaze. “I love the letter.” He pecks you on the lips. “Do you believe me now?”

“You might have to kiss me one more time for that.”

Minghao grins and presses his lips on yours again, a little harder this time. “Good now?”

“Yes—you got lucky.”

“Okay good … but just for extra measures, I have something that might sweeten the deal,” Minghao tells you, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket and handing it to you. Carefully, you take it and unravel it, glancing over the words.

There’s a lot—like a lot—and Minghao’s face flushes as you skim over the paragraphs he wrote, slapping a hand over the paper. “Okay don’t read it in front of me!” he whines, and you beam because history has a tendency to repeat itself.

“Fine, fine,” you sigh, looking down at it one more time when your eyes catch a little note at the bottom.

Pursing your lips, you glance up and find Minghao watching you with wide eyes and a bright smile, and you can’t help but fling yourself into his arms. Your heart swells when you feel him wrap his hands around you rightly pulling him close as the words cast their imprint into your mind.

You’re happy. So, so, so happy.

Yours truly, Xu Minghao (weirdo)

P.S. I love you.

a/n. okay wow i can't believe this is done ... genuinely put so much into this fic i hope u all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! i definitely might be writing more about these two bc i loved them so much😭 i had like 2 more ideas for a smut in mind but decided not to add them but if you'd be interested in reading them, i might post them as a oneshot/bonus, so lmk what you're interested in! please reblog if u did, and let me know ur thoughts—it would mean a lot to me :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @junhui-recs @ichorjeon (strikethrough could not be tagged)

[wongyuuu]

raindrops | xmh

pairing: minghao x f!reader genre: fluff word count: 2.5k summary: you and minghao walk home after a party, when you are surprised by the rain. warnings: none

The cold air hit your skin as you walked out of the building, yet another reminder that you shouldn’t have worn a dress in the middle of the winter. Granted that it wasn’t as ruthless as the year before, but it was winter nonetheless. 

As you were getting ready, you told yourself that it was a party and probably everyone else would be wearing something similar. Oh, just how wrong you were. No one else, not even a single soul, was wearing a dress. You felt stupid the minute you walked in and saw everyone else dressed in long coats, pants, and boots.

It didn’t matter how miserable you felt for being cold and the odd one out, Minghao made sure to tell you just how good you looked, that although you were freezing inside out, you were the most beautiful woman in the entire party.

To be honest, a party on a sunday night to celebrate valentine’s day wasn’t your perfect idea of a night with Minghao. Work kept both of you busy so it was hard to be together, even though you lived together. But when he looked at you like your eyes held the answers to his life, it didn’t matter where you were and who was around you. All that mattered was Minghao, how he was yours, and how much you loved him.

“I just want to get home and warm," you said hugging his arm.

Minghao untangled himself from you and took off his coat, leaving him just in a thin sweater, and put it around you.

“Hao, no" you protested, pulling the coat off your shoulders “I’ll be fine until we get home”

He just shook his head and raised his eyebrows at you, his way to make you put your arms through the sleeves. He smiled when you complied and held your cheeks.

“If you go around like that until we get home you’re probably going to be sick in the morning"

Minghao always had a way with his words, even when you were talking casually he made it seem like he was telling the world truths even though he was lying through his teeth. It could be how sincere he looked while doing it. In moments like that he made your heart flutter.

It was a fact that Minghao didn’t speak much, not even when you first started your relationship - you could talk enough for the both of you - but his actions were so much louder than any word that he could ever say. He cared for you in silent ways, like when you ordered a very specific kind of coffee and whenever you went out after that he always ordered if you, or when you felt uncomfortable during a high school reunion so Minghao made sure to tell everyone just how much you had accomplished and that even though you weren’t running a big company like some of them you had your own business that allowed you to have a good and happy life.

The thing Minghao never saw was that everything you had accomplished was because he held your hand and helped you through all of it, because he was your source of strength. He was like a forest giving you everything you needed to keep moving but also sheltering you when you were scared and needed comfort.

You hugged his side again and sighed when he put his arm around you. The pair of you did that often, it was sort of your thing to go around at night when most stores were already closed for the day and there were hardly any people out. You liked to do that once a week, or even more. Whenever there was a chance, when you both left work late instead of taking a cab or the subway to go home, you would walk. No words were exchanged, you would only hold onto each other and every once in a while you looked at him from the corner of your eye to see him looking down at you. 

In moments like that, you felt like you were a teenage girl in love and not someone who had been in a relationship for over two years. They say that six months after people start a relationship the “honeymoon phase” was over because that was when you started to really get to know each other but for you that couldn’t be further away from the truth. The longer you were with Minghao, the harder you fell for him.

“Oh” you looked up when you felt something cold hit your hand, the top of your head, and finally your cheek, “I think it’s raining”

As if your words held some kind of power, suddenly it started to pour down. It was too powerful, too strong and so very cold. It was hard to breathe and even more to see what was right in front of you. Minghao cursed under his breath and held your hand pulling you with him. He ran as fast as he could without dragging you with him, the heels on your feet making it hard to run much faster. Despite the situation you were in you found yourself smiling, not at all concerned about the rain. Something like that, so sudden and unexpected, brought your mind back to the day you met Minghao for the first time.

It happened on a day very much like that one. You were leaving your job in the mall when it started to rain. As usual, you didn’t have an umbrella with you and it was raining too hard so there was no way that you could go home walking – like you always did – and you doubted that a taxi driver would be able to see you in your hiding spot. You felt a little better by knowing that you weren’t the only one, that someone had been as careless as you even though the news had been announcing heavy rain for a couple of days.

The man by your side looked just as unhappy about it as you felt. He would look down at his phone and then around the entrance as if looking for someone. Of course, someone like him would be waiting for someone. The first thing that crossed your mind when you saw Minghao was that he looked too good to be true. You did your best so it wouldn’t be too obvious that you were looking at him but it was just too hard. What you really wanted to do was to turn around completely and just look at his face.

“Do you think it’s going to last long?” you asked.

Actually, saying that was just an excuse to look at him freely, or at least as much as you could without looking like a weirdo. For a couple of seconds, he stayed quiet, not even looking at you.  Your heart dropped all the way down to your toes when he didn’t answer. Your mind, which was used to overthink everything, went to all the different places that it could possibly go.

He has a girlfriend.

He doesn’t like girls.

You’re unlikable, someone like him would never look at someone like you.

“I hope not" he finally said and smiled at you.

Your heart leaped inside your chest, it was beating in such a way that made you think that it already knew him. The smile on his face was just so beautiful. If you thought that he was handsome before, it became obvious that he was beyond anything and anyone you had ever seen before.

Somehow the conversation simply started. You were on that same spot for over three hours waiting for the rain to stop. You couldn’t even remember what you truly talked about but what you did remember was Minghao’s smile. He smiled a lot that day and his laugh was huge, to the point that his eyes nearly closed and it took over his entire body.

At some point during the night, Minghao moved closer to you, your shoulders touching as you watched the raindrops in the streetlight

“I hope you don’t think this is weird," Minghao said.

He turned to you and held your hands, that you were trying to hide by crossing your arms.

“It’s fine" you smiled at him before looking away.

There you were, talking to a complete stranger for hours, letting him hold your hand, having him so close to you that you could feel the heat coming from his body. On top of all that, you thought about kissing him. 

You could do it, if you leaned in a few inches you would be so close to him but whenever you mustered the courage to get closer to him Minghao would turn his head and look away from you.

“It stopped" he announced.

You were too busy looking at his profile to realize it. You half expected him to move away from you once the rain stopped, and half begged the universe that he didn’t. For the first time in your life, you felt like everything in the world was conspiring in your favor because Minghao didn’t move.

“Would I sound creepy if I said that I didn’t want the rain to stop?” you took a step closer to him, your chest nearly touching his, and shook your head. If Minghao was a creep for wanting to stay a little longer you didn’t know what made you “I’m going to walk you home, if that’s okay"

The next day you were texting each other. You could hardly concentrate on your job because you wanted to keep running back to your phone to see if Minghao had texted you. A week later you had your first date, a month later you were officially a couple and precisely a year later you moved in together.

The people around you thought you were moving too fast but when you talked about it with Minghao it seemed that you were taking the right steps, at the right time. Being with him just felt natural, like something you were supposed to be doing your entire life.

“I hate it when it rains” Minghao grumbled.

You smiled at him and reached for his hair, pushing it out and away from his face.

“You shouldn’t, we met on a night much like this one”

It was his turn to smile at you, and put his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him until you were trapped in his arms.

“Let me rephrase that: rainy days are awesome but I hate being rained on but because you were with me, it wasn’t all that bad"

Morning came, the sun through the thin curtains making you question the memory of the pouring rain from the night before. Minghao wasn’t by your side like you expected him to but you could hear the shower running.

You stayed in bed, tucked under the covers. Minghao already being up meant that you would have to follow soon after. What you would do to be a le to just stay in bed with him all day just once.

He finally entered the room but he didn’t look all that well as he ran his hands over his face. He looked a little pale and his eyes were puffy.

“I told you, I hate to be rained on"

Minghao crawled back in bed and pulled you to him, you went to him willingly and rested your head on his chest.

“I’ll call in sick for us”

He raised his eyebrows at you. He looked so cute with his eyes half closed due to sleep but God forbid you of ever calling him cute – that was a mistake you never wanted to make again.

“For us? You’re not sick”

You simply shook your shoulders and leaned forward to kiss his lips quickly.

“Well, I have days to take. I can’t just leave my sick boyfriend at home all on his own”

“And your boss loves you so she wouldn’t really mind”

Ah, the perks of being your own boss, you thought smiling.

The two of you fell asleep again, only waking up much later when it was past lunchtime. You ordered some food and you and Minghao huddled up on the sofa eating quietly.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Seokmin is going to propose to his girlfriend” Minghao’s face didn’t change in the least and you rolled your eyes “Will I ever tell you something that you don’t know already?”

He just smiled at you and kept eating until he went wide-eyed.

“How do you know about that? I’m sure Seokmin didn’t tell anyone else”

You closed your eyes and sighed, knowing that it was something that you shouldn’t have done. Thinking back, Seokmin’s girlfriend had asked for your secrecy when she told you that saying Seokmin doesn’t know that I found the ring so let’s keep it quiet for now.

“She found the ring,” you said because you knew that Minghao would never let it go and would probably call his friend and you would be the one looking bad “I thought that he was going to make a big deal and propose to her in front of all of us, it would the highlight of the night”

“The highlight of the night was Soonyoung crying on the couch”

“You’re so mean! He is heartbroken”

You didn’t think that Soonyoung would actually throw a Valentine’s Day party without having a girlfriend, or at least a date, but he did it anyway. All it was good for, was to get him drunk and a crying mess. It was funny to see him that drunk and crying but it was also sad, you wanted to hug him and say that everything would be alright.

“Do you want to know a real secret? I can assure you that no one knows about it” you nodded your head almost desperately making your boyfriend smile and lean closer to you “That night, when we first met, I actually had an umbrella. I was debating whether or not I should give it to you or maybe offer to go with you until you found a taxi but you started to talk to me and I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I had never done something like that but for the first time I wanted to be the kind of person who did something, who took an opportunity, instead of being someone who simply watched”

That was something that you never imagined that you would hear from Minghao. Back then you thought that he didn’t want to talk to you at first and he only did it because you were the one who started it. The idea that he stayed because he wanted to be somehow closer to you was foreign but it also made your heart warm and made you feel butterflies in your belly.

“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?’

Minghao smiled at you as he took the bow of food from your hand and placed it on the table.

“I love you so I should keep it interesting”

You pressed your lips to his, lingering there for a minute.

“I love you too”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @mhlsymlysn, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag, @k-drama-adict, @sofix-hc7, @scarlet789, @moonlightgrleric, @r6njunlv, @mixling-blog, @cinnamongirl127, @haowonbins, @valgracia, @shuabby

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[spamgyu]

Angel // Minghao

"Always and angel. Never a God"

DESCRIPTION: She knew she never fully had him – despite his countless reassurance that she did. She wasn't stupid, she knew that she had big shoes to fill and though his words said one thing, the ghost of his past says otherwise. GENRE: Angst

There was a ghost of her that haunted every part of your relationship.

He said it wasn't so but you felt it.

She had been long gone for years but you can feel her presence with every time he touched you, with every word he said, with the cologne he chose to wear, and the songs he listened to.

It was all her.

The girl that once occupied his heart before you did.

He never once uttered her name, not even during the worst of your fights. He never once held her over your head.

But he didn't need to.

He kept her around – his favorite jacket he wore during the cold winter months were from her. The chain that dangled above your face during the nights he made you his, she purchased.

He doesn't think you know, but he underestimated a your power to sleuth – finding all information about her down to what high school she graduated.

But it wasn't just him.

His friends kept in contact with her - her name slipping from their lips every now and then when we were in group settings. You knew they didn't intend to utter it, you can see the regret in their eyes as they pause in the middle of their sentences.

And every single time, you pretended not to hear it.

You pretend to not be fazed by the sinking feeling in my stomach; the voice in your head screaming at you.

"You'll never measure up to her."

Everyone had their own demons. Yours just so happened to be your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend.

"Angel," Minghao's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, turning to face him. "You okay? You're out in space over there."

You pulled your lips into a tight smile, giving him a soft nod. "Just– thinking."

"About?"

Her.

"Nothing." You shook your head, scooting into his open arms – allowing him to pull you against his chest.

"Is it about what Jun said?"

What Jun said.

The reason why you allowed your thoughts to consume you.

During dinner, your boyfriend's best friend had accidentally mentioned her as he gushed over the meal in front of them. He spoke of how Kaia was the one that showed them the Italian restaurant – the one that Minghao had claimed to be his favorite when he had first brought you around.

You thought it was the one final place that she didn't haunt.

Boy, were you oh so wrong.

For the remainder of the night, you couldn't help but think of the first time Minghao had ordered for you when he had taken you to the establishment – not bothering to glance at the menu.

He knew the meals by heart.

Was the pasta that you liked so much once hers?

"It's nothing, Hao." You shook your head, not wanting to further dig deep into the large wound.

"He didn't mean it."

"They never do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His body shifted from under you, causing you to sit up and face him again.

"I– She'll always be around, it's okay." You shook your head. It was far too late in the night to start an argument, and you weren't in the mood to sleep without the warmth of his arms.

"We– you know she and I ended in good terms. I– I can't really tell them to not hang out with her."

He was right and that's what hurt the most.

Minghao did his part, he steered clear from her. Not once did he join his friends when they hung out with her, nor did he stay in contact with her.

Out of respect of you.

But despite all his efforts, and his reassurances – she still remained. Almost as if she had never left.

"I know." You nodded. "I– it's just my head."

"It's you that I chose to be with. It's you that I come home to."

Minghao was right yet again, but why did it still feel like it wasn't so.

Because if he did let go of her, pieces of her wouldn't remain in your shared apartment. He wouldn't smell like the scent she had picked out for him all those years ago.

He wouldn't take you to the places they once claimed to be theirs.

He would have started a brand new slate.

"Angel, I need you to know that I love you." Minghao spoke slowly, taking your hands in his.

You looked down at the cold metal that made contact with your skin – the Chrome Hearts ring she had gifted him their first year together.

Yet another reminder of her as he professed his so called love for you.

You had him, but never all of him. You were his angel, but never his god.

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[ateezthings]

SVT after an argument: Performance Unit

Angsty cz I'm in my svt delulu era, don't judge me

Pairings: each svt performance unit member x genderneutral reader (established relationship)

other units soon to come, 13 people is a lot

Warnings: angsty themes, walking around at night, arguments, fluffy endings though

Word count: 2,2 K

Songs to listen to while reading:

     theory of a deadman – say nothing

lewis capaldi - before you go

taylor swift, bon iver - exile

jessie murph - pray

kyu - sanctuary

   

Jun

It wasn't rare that you and Jun had a quarrel but they never seemed to get quite as rough as this one. You both said things you didn't mean but knew would hurt the other person in the moment. After Jun raised his voice a bit, he realized it had gone too far, so he excused himself. Grabbing his coat, he was out of the apartment in no time. He wasn't able to look you in the eyes.

While taking a walk outside, he thought it all over. How it was nonsense that you two were fighting like this, over a thing that wasn't even worth mentioning. He'd never raised his voice in a argument with a partner before but you knew him too well, knew what to say to push his buttons.

It was dark outside and cars and street lights were illuminating the roads. Jun took his time because he wanted to sort this out with you with a clear head. He loved you after all and he wasn't willing to lose you over something so arbitrary.

After walking a few blocks his heart rate had calmed down, the heat in his head had faded and his forehead relaxed again. He knew it was time to go home.

He figured you were probably still awake but didn't know what state you were in, so he didn't want to startle you. He slowly opened the door.

"Y/N?"

There was no response.

Jun closed the door behind him and took off his shoes and jacket. All the lights were off, so maybe you had gone to bed after all?

"Y/N? Honey?" Still no response. Making his way into your living room, he saw a slight glint coming from the couch. You were sitting with your big headphones on, eyes closed. The TV showed you had paused a show and it was the only source of light in the room. Jun could hear the beats and melody coming from your headphones - you were listening to 'I don't understand but i luv you'.

After a few moments of watching you being so lost in the music, he approached you and carefully put his hand on your shoulder. You startled visibly, the headphones falling off your head.

"Jun?"

Even though it was dark he could tell you had been crying from your glistening eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have raised my voice like that... I didn't mean what I said-"

He was interrupted by your hands on his cheeks, pulling his head towards your own. You kissed him.

After a few moments you pulled away.

"It's alright, Junie. I might not understand why we fought but I know that I love you... I love you so much."

There was a small smile on his lips, he realized he scored the jackpot with you.

"I love you too, Y/N" He took your hand in his.

Hoshi

Soonyoung tends to get a little agitated and hyperactive whenever he gets passionate, in a good and bad way. He knew that. And he thought you knew that.

This time though, it made you physically distance yourself from him a little. The argument you had was meaningless and pulled out of thin air. But for some reason, Soonyoung couldn't let it go. He was gesturingly wildly, raising his voice, trying to make you understand and explain his side.

"I can't argue with you like this anymore, Soonyoung... It's too exhausting."

For the first time he noticed the tired look in your eyes. Have you not been sleeping well?

"I'm sorry, Y/N... I'm sorry I'm exhausting."

"No, babe, that's not what I meant, it's not you, it's- ugh- I don't know- it's... I need to get some air." Before he could comprehend what was happening you had grabbed your coat and left the apartment.

"Wait, Y/N, it's dark outside, it's not safe! Please wait!" But the only sound that could be heard was the front door closing again.

He couldn't let you go out on your own at night. What if something happened to you? What if there were shady people out there? Within a minute he put his phone in his pocket, threw on his shoes and ran out the door to go after you.

...

Even though he was fast, Soonyoung couldn't immediately find you after leaving the house. That really scared him.

When he stepped out on to the street, he noticed a group of guys standing around a few buildings down. They yelled and bellowed, some were drinking beer. It seemed like they were all gathered around another smaller person who was standing in the middle. For a secound it seemed like the person in the middle was you. Soonyoung felt a shiver go down his spine. Even though they were bigger than him physically, Soonyoung approached the group. There was no way he'd let anything happen to you.

"Y/N?" With fast strides he made his way over to the group of guys. The closer he got, the more it looked like you being taunted by a bunch of big drunk guys. Soonyoung ran to where he thought you were.

"Y/N?! ... Hey! Stop, what are you doing to them?" He pushed some of the men away to get to you. That's when he saw, that it wasn't really you. It was another guy, long-haired, and he seemed fine. They were just playing a game, it looked like.

"Hey, what's your problem, man?"

Soonyoung was confused. "Oh, sorry, it seemed like- I was just looking for my partner."

The man right next to him looked at Soonyoung sceptically. "Get lost, weirdo."

Soonyoung retracted and went back into the direction of your house. Where could you have gone off to?

Soonyoung looked for you in every alley around your house, before he made his way back to the entrance of your house. When he opened the front door, he saw that the light in the backyard was on. Could it be...?

He opened the back door and there you were, sitting on the grass, a fluffy stray cat roaming around your feet.

"Y/N?"

"Hi, baby" You smiled when you saw him.

"Are you trying to kill me? Leaving like that? I looked for you all over, I was so worried." He plopped down onto the grass next to you. The cat inspected his shoes.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't think straight, I needed some fresh air... I'm really sorry, Soonie" You reached for his hand.

He let out a big sigh before putting his arms around you. "It's alright... But don't ever think about doing that again... I almost beat up a group of men out there because I thought you were being harassed by them."

You shot him an "are you sure about that"-look but he just cradled your head further into his chest.

"I'm just glad you're safe. And I'm sorry for how I acted earlier."

"It's okay, Soonie... I love you."

"Love you too, baby." He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Minghao

No matter how hard he tries to be composed and balanced, Minghao has an inner child like everyone. And in this particular fight with you, little Hao felt hurt by some things you said. So he said the one thing he knew would hurt you.

Minghao immediately regretted it but he was too overwhelmed to say anything.

"Get out" you said.

He wasn't sure if he heard you right.

"I said get out. I can't look at you right now."

Minghao was confused, he didn't think the fight was that serious. How did it escalate like that? After a few moments of gathering his thoughts, he slowly turned towards the front door.

"I'll be at the dorm, when you're ready..." His voice was only a whisper but he turned around again to look you in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..." He didn't want you to reject him further which is why he grabbed his coat and phone and left.

...

When he arrived at the svt dorm, a few of the guys were there but he didn't feel like talking so he made his way to his room and closed the door.

He let himself fall onto the bed face first. Why couldn't he have just apologized to you properly? It wasn't that hard. He usually had no problem doing it.

His thoughts were still spinning when someone knocked on his door.

"Who is it?" Minghao really didn't feel like socializing at the moment, his voice severely muffled by the pillow he was laying on top of.

"It's Hoshi" He didn't even wait for Minghao's answer and jsut entered the room.

"Are you okay, buddy?" Hoshi sounded genuinely concerned.

Minghao finally turned around to face his older friend. "We had a fight... and it was stupid and we both got mad and I said things I didn't mean and then they told me to get out and so I did."

Hoshi took a seat on the bed. "That doesn't sound like you guys... Did you apologize? You know you can be a bit petty sometimes."

"Thanks, hyung, that's just what I needed."

"You know what I meant. Is a little argument really worth being in a bad mood for? And I can guarantee you, Y/N is also not feeling too great about this."

"I guess you're right... Maybe I should call them to apologize."

"We're about to start playing some drinking games in the living room, if you need me."

And with that, Hoshi withdrew from Minghao's room. He tried to remember the last time, his hyung seemed so compassionate but couldn't recall.

Minghao took out his phone and pressed the call button next to your number.

"Hao?"

"Hi baby... Y/N, I'm so sorry for what I've said earlier. I didn't mean any of it."

"So, you're not sorry?" Your voice sounded a bit amused.

"No, that part's true... I never meant of it to become this big thing and I'm sorry... Can I come home so we can talk about it? I miss you."

"Yeah... I miss you too, Hao. Please hurry."

And that he did.

Dino

You two didn't usually go to bed not having resolved an issue but this time it just kinda happened. You were both too tired to talk rationally and he had an early morning call time.

Dino knew he wasn't gonna let you sleep alone in your shared bed but he didn't have the guts to cuddle you yet. He didn't wanna leave you alone, yet he wanted to give you some space. After a while of going over the argument in his head and coming to the same conclusion - that he loved you nonetheless and he didn't want to continue fighting - his eyelids felt impossibly heavy and he fell into an exhausted sleep.

...

Dino was dragged out of his deep sleep by his alarm. He hurried to make it stop, worried it had woken you up as well. When he looked over to you, it seemed like it didn't disturb your slumber. As he looked at your sleeping figure, his gaze wandered around your face, your cute cheeks, your pretty nose, your kissable lips. Your whole face seemed so peaceful, so relaxed. It immediately made him feel more peaceful too.

After a few moments he snapped back to reality, he had a job to get to after all. He was gonna send you a good morning text from the car to promise that you'll talk it over when he got home that evening.

Right as Dino got up from your shared bed, he felt your warm fingers grab his wrist.

"Please, don't leave me"

Your sleepy voice almost broke his heart. Dino wasn't sure if you were fully awake yet since your position hadn't changed and your eyes were still closed.

He decided to cuddle up to you for a moment, your head underneath his chin, so he could really hold you close.

"I will never leave you, Y/N, you hear me? I will not, I will never." He whispered it into your hair.

You must've heard him since you cuddled even further into him. Dino pressed a short kiss on top of your head.

He didn't even care that his phone rang 3 times. So what if he was a little late for once? His hyungs were late all the time. You were more important to him right now.