What happens next?
Title: What Happens Next?
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Onho, slight KyuhyunxOnew
Warnings: mushy?
Word count: 7276
Summary: In which Minho is a quidditch player and married to a neglectful Jinki who owns a book store. Magical & Post-Hogwarts AU!
Disclaimer: This story is meant to be a supplement to one by static_abyss. As a result, some of the dialogue was not written by me but rather copied from her brilliant story, WITH her permission.
A/N: This is like a counterpart to static_abyss's story Tell me what happens next and has been written with her express permission. This story can stand alone but is in Minho's POV (Her story is in Jinki's POV) so if you want a more complete sense of what's going on here, you should read her story as well. It's a bit disjointed but I kind of like it. I hope you do too
Minho sighs, tossing and turning for what seems like the tenth time since he decided to go to sleep seven minutes ago. He has had another long day of intense quidditch practice and by all rights he should have passed out the minute his exhausted body hit the bed, like the rest of his teammates undoubtedly had. He had never had too much of a problem falling asleep after practice before. The problem this time could be that the inn had enough space for each player to have his own room; he tends to sleep better when he can feel the presence of another in his room. But he knows that the problem runs deeper than the lack of a roommate- he misses the warmth that comes with being cuddled up with Jinki in bed, especially on days like today where he has been out in the cold long enough that even heating charms weren’t able to make him feel a shred of warmth.
He wonders what Jinki is doing right at that very moment. Whether he’s poring over a pile of spell books that he likes to pretend Minho doesn’t know about. Or if he is even taking enough time away from work to eat properly. Jinki has always been like that, a little spacey, a little introverted, but always reliable. Always comfortable. Always home. For Minho, every day is an uncertainty. There are times when he gets injured and does not know if he will be able to recover enough to play at the same level as he was used to; after all, even magic can only do so much. There are times when he makes mistakes and sees them amplified all around him until they encompass his very being and leave him feeling like a little nothing. Like the instances when the media will take a little slip on his broom and use it as basis to question his total worth and merit as a quidditch player. Those are the times when he just wants to crawl up into a little hole, so safe and snug that there is no way anything could ever get close enough to hurt him. And that’s what he has with Jinki. What he had always had with Jinki. Minho craved companionship and constancy after a life full of neglect from his sometimes well-intentioned but ignorant muggle parents and Jinki was nothing if not constant. Even in Hogwarts- hell, even when they had first met, Jinki had been main constant in his life.
They were both muggleborn and relied upon each other for support in times when it seemed like they didn’t belong. He could still remember being shorter than Jinki and being able to fit right into his small arms. He had soon outgrown that tiny stature and the age where he could have sought out comfort in that way without being judged. By that time, Jinki had faded into the background, not because others wanted to but because he wanted it for himself. He had always known exactly what he had wanted out of life, and Minho admired that because he could not say the same. What Minho had was an above average athletic ability and looks that appealed to people he wasn’t interested in. The boys in his year envied his popularity with the girls (and some boys), but it was never really something Minho had desired. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that while the girls fawned over him whenever he succeeded, they were almost never around when he failed. But Jinki was. He was always there and Minho loved him for it.
Sure, the fact that a crowd always surrounded him now wherever he went remained constant, but the people that made up the crowd changed. And Minho personally cared more about the people than the crowd as a whole. When he saw the same fans in the crowd, he knew he was doing something right. When he saw a large crowd but not a familiar face amongst them, he felt unsure inside. Sometimes old fans would come back, and new fans would turn into old fans, but it changed too much for Minho to ever really feel comfortable with. That was why Jinki not showing up at his matches anymore really bothered him; he didn’t know what he had done wrong but didn’t even know if his attempts to fix it had worked; Jinki was constant in that too- once he decided to stop showing up he really didn’t show up again.
Jinki’s loyalty wasn’t the only reason why he loved Jinki, but it was what had first drawn him to the other man. He had not expected that what he had initially perceived as closeness between friends of similar backgrounds was actually the respect and love found between intimate lovers, but he had never regretted it. He could still pinpoint the exact day he had asked Jinki out. It had been a warm Sunday afternoon, and he had finally worked up enough courage after staring at the giant squid thrashing moving about in the black lake. Once he had made up his resolve, finding Jinki had not been hard to do. He had not even hesitated before walking in the direction of the library, and found the other in the process of cleaning up after what, from the looks of it, had to have been an intense study session. He had looked up when he felt the light being obstructed from in front of him, and smiled softly when he saw Minho. The smile had been his undoing and he found himself croaking out an awkward “Will you go out with me”. The frown that had followed had alarmed him, and Jinki dropping his books a minute later had nearly stopped his heart, but the reactions had apparently not been indicative of a rejection, as he had feared. The memory of Jinki’s bright, loving eyes and sunshiny smile as he agreed to go on a date with Minho was still one that raced to the front of his mind when he needed to conjure a particularly powerful patronus.
The first night he comes back after three months he’s so relieved to have the familiar warmth that is Jinki back in his arms that he nearly groans in protest when he feels the other pull away and leave him in a sudden flurry of cold. He’s too exhausted to move at the moment and cannot even bring himself to sit up and demand that Jinki return to bed, but as he hears Jinki murmur incantations from much too far away, he vows to get to the bottom of the issue. He knows that come morning, Jinki will undoubtedly deny the existence of the issue, but he isn’t stupid. He knows that something is bothering his husband, he knows it from the uneasy quirk of his lips and the stiffness that springs up in his body the instant Minho comes in contact. He’s sure he already knows part of it, and he will get to the bottom of the rest, but tomorrow.
-
"Are you having anything to eat?" Minho asks in the morning.
Jinki shakes his head and runs a hand through his dark hair, and Minho bites his lip to prevent an endless litany of carefully worded and well-intentioned but indubitably annoying (To Jinki at least) reprimands to take better care of himself from spilling forth.
"You need to have something," he says instead, pulling out things from the fridge.
Neither of them really knows how to cook, but he uses cooking as an excuse to turn away from Jinki’s blank stare anyway. He hates their kitchen, hates the stark contrast between the white countertops and cabinets and the well-scrubbed but still grimy tiles on the floor. Jinki likes all the white, says it looks homey, but to Minho it all just serves as a reminder of the sterile hospital wing he had spent so much of his time in Hogwarts at.
"I'm fine." Jinki says, watching as Minho cracks an egg over the skillet on the stove. "You cook?"
Minho laughs, because he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. It comes out deeper than he intended and resonates through the too-silent kitchen. Jinki doesn’t seem to mind, if the smile on his face when Minho looks back at him to double check is anything to go by. He grins in response and turns back because he doesn’t trust himself to not mess this easy camaraderie up.
He finishes scrambling the eggs in the skillet and ladles the finished product out on two plates. He turns to Jinki who is still standing there but looks distracted. He takes his hand, leaning in out of instinct. He can smell the familiar soap that Jinki uses and it makes him smile. "What time do you come out of work?"
"Seven," Jinki answers and pulls his hand out of Minho's. "Have you seen my wand?"
"Yeah, it's on the counter by the fridge." He sighs internally, pushing away his disappointment at the obvious rejection.
"Huh?" Jinki says blankly. "I thought I took this to bed with me."
"You did," Minho answers with his back to him, unwilling to turn and let Jinki see the pain he knows must be in his eyes. He doesn’t know if he sounds as upset as he feels, but he hopes not. He had known before coming home that he would not have the welcome he craved, but this was too much. Why was Jinki so cold? What did this mean for them?
"So, what are you doing today?" Jinki asks. He seems to be working hard to keep any emotion out of his voice.
"I have a few interviews, a round at the gym then back here," Minho answers and already feels exhausted at the mere thought of doing more things. Last night’s sleep had not been as restorative as he had hoped. "I'll catch you for lunch.” it’s a question, even if it doesn’t sound like one.
"That sounds good," He smiles, glad Jinki is willing to give him that at least. He’s already planning a nice, quiet meal at their favorite restaurant. Maybe afterwards they can really talk and air their grievances so that they can begin to move on. And then maybe, just maybe, they can get to the stage where they will both want to get… reacquainted with each other. Just the thought of it causes blood to rush south and he smirks even though he knows that they’re nowhere near that stage at this point. He shakes his head as if to clear his mind when he hears. "Will you be home early?"
He turns around without schooling his features back into the usual detached mask, and regrets it when Jinki frowns up at him. This is not a promising start.
"I wanted to ask you something," Minho says. He feels nervous, unsure if Jinki will even want to spend more time with him than he really has to. Jinki’s grumbling response does nothing for his confidence
"There's a party to celebrate that my team made it to the Quidditch World Cup," he pauses. He wants to make this sound like something Jinki would want to go to, but how? And why? Is it not enough that Minho, who has never asked Jinki to do anything that could potentially make him uncomfortable, wants him there? He should not feel this awkward asking his husband for a date. He shouldn’t even have to feel like he needs to ask. "It's this weekend. Tomorrow actually. Would you like to come with me?"
Jinki nods, and walks out without so much as a goodbye. Minho is ecstatic. He eats his eggs, and the ones from Jinki’s forgotten plate as well, before clearing his mess up and heading to the bathroom. He spends a few minutes just staring into his own reflection, trying to quell his nervousness. He hasn’t felt this strange mix of anticipation and nerves since the day he proposed to Jinki, and the thought thrills him. He’s so lost in his thoughts of warm eye smiles and kisses exchanged infront of a small but approving bunch of their closest friends that he doesn’t even notice the red envelope flutter in through the mail slot on their door until it comes and floats right next to his ear. His eyes widen impossibly but he doesn’t have a chance to do much more before the envelope explodes and Key’s distinctive shriek echoes through the bathroom
Choi Minho! You’re going to be late! Hurry the hell up or I’m going to kick your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit, let alone fly during the world cup.
The howler dissolves into tiny little pieces of ash and Minho is left staring in shock and trying to get his hearing back.
-
That afternoon finds Minho standing in Diagon Alley buying a set of elegant auto-stamping quill for Jinki.He had gotten through his schedule for the day much faster than expected, partly due to the fact that the Witch Weekly interview had been cancelled with no advance notice. Kibum was furious but Minho couldn’t care less. He had a lunch date with Jinki in a few hours and was planning on using the time in between to find a little present to surprise him with. It was in Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment that he came up with the idea of buying a new, top of the line quill for Jinki. He had promptly walked over to Amanuensis Quills and after half an hour spent carefully examining the goods, he had found the perfect one. With just two items left on his shopping list, a large pack of sugar quills and some Fizzing Whizzbees (Jinki’s favorites), he headed out of the store.
It’s when he reaches Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop that he sees them. Jinki with a tall, and curly dark haired wizard. A smile blooms across his face at the sight of his love, and he opens his mouth to call out to Jinki until he sees the smile on Jinki’s face. It’s not the polite smile that Jinki usually offers acquaintances, it’s more of the flirtatious smile that he used to gift Minho with. It’s clear that this isn’t just some random person Jinki had run into and was exchanging pleasantries with. This is something else, and he nearly gasps when the man turns a little and he can see that he is none other than Cho Kyuhyun, asshole extraordinaire and Minister of Magic hopeful. And suddenly Minho feels all the elation with which he had just shopped drain out of him. He feels tired. And Jealous. Very jealous.It’s not so much that he’s jealous at Jinki getting romantic attention from someone other than him, although he is very jealous about that too. But it’s more that Jinki seems to actually want that attention that bugs him. He’s not usually the type to get irrationally jealous and possessive; he has always known that Jinki is attractive and that he will naturally attract admirers. But the scene before his eyes bothers him more than he had thought possible. Here is a man, far more influential and better looking than him, standing far too close to Jinki for Minho’s comfort and Jinki seems to be encouraging him. He wants to know what they could possibly be talking about like this , what could possibly make Jinki smile so much. He walks closer and closer, somehow managing to remain undetected. The lack of acknowledgment only irks Minho more; what could they possibly be that engrossed in that they wouldn’t notice Minho walking closer to them in broad daylight on an otherwise empty street.
"Hey," Jinki says, and Minho starts in surprise at how happy and un-emotionless he sounds. "You never told me what book it was you were looking for."
"It was a pickup line." Minho sees red.
"Excuse me," He has to say something, and he’s glad that that is what he has come out with; he’s unsure of his relationship enough without having to worry about the consequences that hexing the future Minister of Magic will bring.
"Minho," Kyuhyun says, and Minho knows that he’s trying to figure out where he knows him from.
He wraps an arm around Jinki’s shoulders because it feels right. He doesn’t worry about the fact that it is more contact than he has initiated with Jinki in a long time. He doesn’t even focus too much on how uncomfortable it’s going to make Jinki. All he thinks about is the fact that Kyuhyun was coming dangerously close and even if he and Jinki are done for, he would be damned before he let another man take advantage of his Jinki. So it is with no small level of satisfaction that he watches Kyuhyun’s eyes flicker over to his arm and between their faces and Minho smiles, a twisted ugly grimace of a thing, because he knows that Kyuhyun knows now. He doesn’t want to think about why that does nothing to alleviate the hurt he feels inside.
"So it's Minho," Kyuhyun comments.
"Yeah," Minho snaps, and stops because if he says anything else he might explode and he still doesn’t want to make a scene. Not for his sake, nor Kyuhyun’s, but for Jinki.Jinki doesn’t seem to appreciate this show of restraint, because he shrugs Minho's arm off his shoulder and takes a step away. Undeterred, Minho reaches for his hand and twines their fingers, hoping that Jinki will understand and not begrudge him this. It’s not meant as a show of ownership or anything ridiculous like that; he just needs the comfort of knowing that even after spending time with this obviously interested and very influential man, Jinki still wants him. Maybe that’s why it hurts when Jinki rips his hand away and stuffs it down his pocket, although he does appreciate that Jinki at least tries to pretend that he’s looking for something.
"I'll talk to you," Jinki says to Kyuhyun.
"Please do," Kyuhyun grins, and Minho wants to hit something. "And thank you for lunch."
Kyuhyun disapparates with one last smirk but even his absence does nothing to placate Minho. Jinki, unfazed as always, turns and heads up out of the alley, no doubt heading back to the library. Minho isn’t ready to let it go, so he follows.
"Want to explain what that was?" Minho asks, and there’s no controlling the anger in those words. Jinki just looks at him blankly, as if this were a conversation about something that had nothing to do with him. Minho is tired of seeing that expression, tired of those lifeless eyes that haunt him even in the absence of their owner. Suddenly, he feels exhausted.
"I went to have lunch with a friend," Jinki answers, muttering familiar spells to dismantle the wards he must have placed on the library before leaving for lunch. Minho has nothing better to do, so he mumbles along to speed up the process.
"He was flirting with you." He hopes for a frown, a disagreeing shake of the head, anything to indicate that Jinki had not intentionally gone out with someone else who wanted to bed him.
"I know," Jinki nods. And it’s the first time Minho can really remember feeling this angry at Jinki. He knows he has made mistakes, they both have, but he doesn’t appreciate Jinki’s acting like it’s entirely his fault. Jinki undermining the effort he’s tried to make
"So," Minho says through gritted teeth.
"I'm not stupid. Or five," Jinki says, with a sense of finality that sets his teeth on edge
"What's with you?" he says, and he hates how quiet his voice has gone. He doesn’t try to speak louder though because he is afraid his voice will crack with all the pent-up emotion his body seems determined to release at the very moment. "You haven’t said anything about me being back. Is something wrong?"
Jinki shakes his head, and Minho feels himself swell up with fury at Jinki’s persistent denial of the problems that stand between them.
"I don't know what you expect. You're back. You'll leave. You'll come back. I'm used to it."
"So you don’t care?" And suddenly he feels like a hot air balloon after it had been popped; it’s like all the hot rage that had been building up inside him just drained out of him at Jinki’s point-blank indifference.
Jinki sighs, "does it really matter?"
Minho remains calm, an admirable feat seeing as how his insides have all shriveled up in agony. Have his efforts, late and weak as they are, been pointless from the start? Does Jinki really not care? Is Minho stupid for still trying to ensure a better, happier future for them? Is he ready to give up all that has been holding them together for this long? Is there still anything left? He mulls all these thoughts over as he blankly stares at Jinki walking around, straightening the house up. The answer comes to him in the blinding flash of sunlight that filters in through the curtains Jinki has just drawn back. It’s almost as if it is a sign from god, and while Minho has never been particularly religious, he is willingly to try anything so long as it makes his marriage works. Because he really, really wants it to. He needs to say something now and retreat so that he can formulate his next approach, because he isn’t ready to give up on them. Not by a long shot.
"It does matter," he says, schooling his face so that Jinki won’t be tempted to read through his emotions like he always does so easily.
Jinki looks up in time to catch what he thinks is a half-defeated, half-angry expression on Minho's face before he walks out.
-
Minho doesn’t go home that night, choosing instead to stay at Jonghyun’s house. Jonghyun and he had managed to beat the odds and retain their friendship regardless of their statuses as captains of rival quidditch teams. Jonghyun’s been one of the only people in his field that Minho can stand to be around for more than is absolutely necessary; there’s something about the man that enables him to be childish and silly but still intuitive and insightful in tough situations. This time is no different, because he takes one look at Minho’s face before he ushers him in and wordlessly points him towards the spare bedroom. Minho flashes a smile back at him and he just nods understandingly, before retiring to his own room. Minho falls into bed with a sigh, closes his eyes and tries not to think about the cold and empty static abyss that seems to be trying to smother him. He clenches his eyes shut and counts sheep backwards from a 100. He falls asleep somewhere around 56, give or take about twenty because he is pretty sure he has messed up in his counting a few times. He dreams of nothing.
The next morning, he stumbles out of bed to find a plate of breakfast waiting for him at the table. He’s hesitant about eating it, even though he hasn’t eaten in over a day, because he knows from experience that Jonghyun cannot even fix a bowl of cereal without messing it up. Just as he is contemplating forgoing breakfast altogether, he spots a note lying next to the plate-
No, Jjong didn’t make this. I should be insulted that you even thought that he could create this masterpiece. I’ll let it slide because I know that you are stupid. Eat and meet us at mine so we can try to make you look less like a troll. And for Merlin’s sake, take a shower.
there’s no name at the bottom, but he didn’t need one; as soon as he had read the second sentence, he had known who wrote it. Yeah. Kim Kibum, his manager, his stylist, his mentor, his confidant and Jonghyun’s other half is definitely responsible for the “masterpiece” on the table. He didn’t know how he hadn’t recognized it before- it was definitely made in Kibum style. On the blue china plate was a smirking face. It strip of crinkled bacon for a mouth, eggs sunny-side up for eyes, and pieces of a grilled cheese sandwich for the eyebrows and nose.
He smiles, and eats. He usually hates eating by himself, but he’s too touched to hate anything at the moment; it had been a long time since someone had done something that thoughtful for him. Jinki never ate breakfast, so it was understandable that he had never made Minho any either. Sighing, he finished up and went into Jonghyun’s bathroom. Normally, he wasn’t allowed because Kibum stored all his expensive bath products in there but today he felt mischievous enough to use them. Besides, Key had been the one who insisted on his showering anyway.
-
Later that afternoon, Minho is putting the finishing touches on his hair. Despite Kibum protesting at the outdated style and cut, Minho had dressed himself in the black robes Jinki had bought him ages ago. He had always had a love-hate relationship with the robes, but he still tended to wear them on special occasions because they made him feel like Jinki was there with him, supporting him. Jinki made him smile by promising to come today. So he’s wearing the black dress robes to make Jinki smile. Minho finishes fixing his hair and turns to Kibum for a final approval. The party had already been in full swing for an hour or so, and he had been itching to go downstairs and find Jinki for just as long, but Kibum had refused to let him leave until he was completely satisfied with his appearance. Besides, Kibum had always said that being fashionably late was always a good thing. He didn’t agree, but with Kibum that never mattered.
Soon enough, Kibum gives the okay and the three of them walk downstairs together. Kibum and Jonghyun are chatting about something or the other, but Minho finds that he cannot pay attention. He’s going to see Jinki soon. He hopes so anyway because he hasn’t spoken with Jinki since yesterday afternoon and things had not ended on a happy note so he has no way of knowing if Jinki is there or not. Maybe he should just go back upstairs and change out of these robes. He feels stupid. It’s too late now though because they’re already at the entrance to Jonghyun’s foyer and he can hear people talking and music playing. His stomach gives way and he moves as if to walk backwards away from the party but Jonghyun and Kibum both descend on him at that moment. They give him knowing looks and string their arms through his, effectively sandwiching him between them and rendering him unable to move. He groans and allows the two to pull him forward, zoning out the minute Kibum starts lecturing him about manning up. He absentmindedly twines his fingers through Jonghyun’s soft blond hair, just to have something to do with his hands.
Once they’re safely inside the room, Kibum walks off to greet amber, his cousin, and Minho who is still sore from the last time he irritated Amber chooses to stay away. He and Jonghyun walk together, and Jonghyun’s impression of Amber’s tantrum mode sets Minho off. The laughter leaves momentarily distracted from what he had been doing from the moment he got in the room; inconspicuously looking around to detect any sign of Jinki’s presence. When he straightens up again, he has no need to go back to surveying the room; he has just seen Jinki and it appears that Jinki has seen him too because he starts walking in his direction. He is wearing the deep green robes he had brought back from Ireland, and the knowledge sets his heart afire. He’s so happy at seeing Jinki there, so relieved that their fight yesterday wasn’t bad enough to force the other to break his promise, and just so in love with Jinki that it’s all he can do to plaster that familiar mask back on his face so as to not burst into tears and embarrass them all.
"Jinki," Minho says when Jinki's close enough that anything other than acknowledgment would be flat out rude. "This is Jonghyun. We met after my team kicked his ass." He already knows the punch is coming; Jonghyun is still sore that his high-ranked team had lost to Minho’s three years ago in what was now considered to be one of the the biggest upsets in quidditch history. He punches back on instinct, but Jinki’s presence has rattled him enough that he misses and Jonghyun smirks and punches his shoulder again. Minho groans, knowing he will have no choice but to chase after the already fleeing Jonghyun until he successfully lands a few punches; his competitive side won’t let him rest until he does now that Jinki’s here. So he runs and thanks god for his long legs because it doesn’t take him long at all until he has a sheepish Jonghyun in his arms and he proceeds to pummel, jokingly of course, the life out of him. Once he has Jonghyun begging for mercy, he stands up gracefully, as if he hadn’t just been rolling around on the floor with another grown man. He hoists Jonghyun up and together they walk back, laughing at their own silliness. Minho spots Key speaking to Jinki and hopes that he’s not saying anything that will make him look immature and unworthy of Jinki’s affections.
"I'm sorry," Jinki says. "I don't know who you are?"
"Kibum," the guy answers. "I'm Minho's manager."
"Stylist would be a more accurate term," Minho says as he and Jonghyun reach them. He’s thankful that Key doesn’t seem to have done any damage. He laughs and wraps and arm around Jonghyun, feeling happy to be standing there with the people that matter the most to him.
"Your picture is in the paper every week. You'd make me look bad if you looked and acted anything less than perfect.” And it’s true, but he would never do anything of the sort. Not intentionally anyway; after all, there was a chance that Jinki would read it and he would not want to look bad in front of him.
"That's never been an issue," Jinki says.
Minho stares at Jinki, who keeps his eyes fixed onto Kibum. He doesn’t know if Jinki intended that to be as complimentary as it sounds, but what else could that have possibly meant?
"Minho's always been well behaved and he listens. But that could just be because he's married to you."
Jinki nods, but it doesn’t seem like he’s actually agreeing. If anything, he looks a bit sad
"What do you do when he loses?"
Jonghyun laughs and Minho studiously avoids Jinki’s gaze. He knows he’s always been a bit competitive and even though that part of him remains locked up most of the time, he always loses some of the control when Jinki is around. He can’t help it; he wants Jinki to be proud of him.
"He doesn't lose," Jonghyun explains. "He calls a draw until the next match."
"At least I win more than I lose," Minho says. "I've always been a winner. Ask Jinki." He waits, uncertain of whether or not Jinki wants to talk about anything at all.
Jinki smiles wide, and it hurts Minho to look at it because it just seems wrong.
"Sometimes even I don't believe he's a Gryffindor," Jinki nods.
"Gryffindor," Kibum rolls his eyes. "Sad, pathetic losers. But, I guess Gryffindor is better than Hufflepuff."
Jonghyun coughs loud and rude and turns pointedly away from Kibum. "So, Jinki," he says. "Minho won't shut up about you. What did he say about me?" Minho winces internally; he knows Jinki knows next to nothing about his friends, but it’s not like it’s Minho’s fault. Jinki had never shown any sort of interest in that part of his life.
"Nothing, really," Jinki answers. "He's not home much." Ouch. As if his being there would have done anything; Jinki may physically be home more than he is, but his heart hasn’t been there for months.
Kibum hits Minho, "you haven’t spent any time with him yet?"
Minho shakes his head. "There hasn't been any time," he says. It’s not strictly true but it’s the easiest way to explain the situation without revealing just how far they’ve come from each other. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to fool because it’s clear that no one believes that statement, but it makes him feel better all the same.
"Then go," Kibum waves in the general direction of the door. "This party is all for show anyway. No one here will miss you."
Minho doubts that Jinki believes him, hell, even he has trouble believing it, but he’s past caring. Kibum and Jonghyun have just okayed Minho’s absence at one of their parties, and that’s more than enough to convince Minho to get out of there. He bids his friends goodbye, wordlessly thanking Jonghyun for his hospitality through a hard punch to the arm, and follows Jinki to the cloakroom.
"You came," Minho says, straightening his cloak and pulling the two ends tighter across his chest to fend off the biting cold gust of wind that blows past as they step outside.
Jinki nods and they head down the street. Minho feels, rather than sees, Jinki pull on his cloak and has to restrain himself from reaching over and straightening the collar of those Irish dress robes he had spent three hours picking out. If he closes his eyes, he can still hear Kibum nagging at him to hurry up. He opens his eyes again, and glances over at Jinki, getting courage from the weak half smile he receives; he likes knowing that Jinki is just as lost as he is.
"You asked me to come," Jinki answers. A very Jinki-like response; not revealing too much but honest all the same.
"I didn’t expect you to." If honesty is what Jinki wants, honesty is what he’ll get.
The silence stretches between them and yet Minho feels content. As he sees it, the ball is in Jinki’s court now. He has introduced Jinki to the two other people that matter most to him, shown Jinki more of his life. He has done nothing he wants to hide and if this is it for him, he won’t leave without letting Jinki know exactly how he feels.
"You should watch some of my games," This honest, no holds barred approach is not as hard as he had thought it would be. He continues, for once not being bothered by Jinki’s continued silence.
"I don’t forget about you," he says, his eyes focused straight ahead of him "I think about you when I'm away because whenever I go out people stop me and tell me how many points I scored at a certain game, as if that's all I am. And when I don't score well, they stop me to complain about that and all the time I feel like I have to do better, be better and you're not there like you were in school." It surprises him how truthful that statement is. Not because he’s trying to lie or flatter Jinki, but because he doesn’t know why he’s never said it before. When had it gotten to the point where he felt that he couldn’t even be honest with his own husband?
"Remember in our third year," Minho laughs. "Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff and we were down 400 points because I couldn’t get the quaffle in any of the stupid hoops. Our captain yelled at me for hours, said we couldn't win unless by some miracle we scored those 400 points and caught the snitch. The next game I scored 350. I was ecstatic, but you stopped me and said-"
"You always forgot there are other people besides you on the team." There’s no negative judgment in that statement but he has to stop himself from smiling fondly at the thinly veiled reproach in Jinki’s tone. He has always known how to read in between the lines where Jinki is concerned and he knows what Jinki means now.
"I do," Minho consents. "All the time."
Acknowledgement of his flaws had ironically never been a problem for Minho and he relishes in the feeling of it as he and Jinki walk together, not holding hands but close enough.
"I have to go again," Minho says, and stops because he doesn’t want to say anything else. Can’t bring himself to say anything else. Minutes go by and Jinki hasn’t responded yet.
"I'll come back every night. I'll floo in. I promise." Now he’s just letting it all out, hoping against hope that he can draw a reaction out of the silent man.
Jinki nods. "Yeah," he says. "We can try."
Minho looks at him, really looks at him and sees the faith and hope, the life, that he has been searching for in those eyes. He leans forward and brushes his lips against Jinki’s, because he can and because he doesn’t think he can stay away for a moment longer. It doesn’t matter that they have to pull apart and readjust before getting comfortable again, doesn’t matter that their actions are still a little unsteady, a little unsure because it’s getting there and he has no problem touching his husband until they both know what to do with themselves again.
-
He makes sure to keep his promise, because it really is the least he can do. Some nights he and Jinki cuddle and watch cheesy movies, other nights he just has a chance to say hello before he crashes on the sofa. Those types of nights seem to increase in number as the quidditch world cup approaches, and he resents the fact that he can’t enjoy both his loves at the same time but it’s the happiest he can remember being in a long time. He doesn’t really know what Jinki’s doing to occupy his time away from Minho and he can’t bring himself to ask; he isn’t sure if their relationship is ready for that, if Jinki is ready for that.
-
Minho feels raw emotions coursing through his body too fast to be identified as he and his teammates make their way towards the ground. The crowd screams and shouts as his beaters hoist him onto their shoulders. Sitting there on his teammates shoulders, he feels as though this should be the happiest moment of his life. But it isn’t. He loves that he won, that he and his team were able to bring happiness to thousands of people, but he feels just a little hollow on the inside. And then suddenly he knows where he wants to be more than anywhere else in the world. He humors his fans, and his coaches, and the reporters but quickly makes his goodbyes before grasping the cup and flooing home; he has a husband to make proud. His shoes skid against the floor in his hurry to get out of his fireplace, but scuff marks on expensive, custom-made sport shoes and scratches on gold trophies don’t matter because now he has his husband in his arms and he never wants to let go.
"We won," Minho grins, still a little breathless from the kissing. Jinki just murmurs in agreement and tightens his hold around Minho’s waist, the touch familiar enough to comfort him but still one that he is unacquainted with enough to cause goosebumps to erupt across his arms and the back of his neck. He smiles happily in return and buries his face in Jinki’s beautiful hair.
-
"I want you to meet someone," Jinki says that night and Minho nods, heart starting to beat just a little faster in anticipation. He knows Jinki isn’t one who would have another lover on the side, let alone spring it on Minho in such a fashion but his brain has had years of exposure to cheap sappy dramas and it’s not his fault he feels a little paranoid. "His name is Taemin and I've been helping him get through school."
Minho laughs and the warmth and relief pooling in his belly overwhelms him enough to leave him feeling a little lightheaded. He learns forward, kisses Jinki's cheek and folds his arms across Jinki's back. He’s ecstatic that Jinki has warmed up to him enough to allow him back into his life. "All right," Minho agrees. "Let me meet Taemin."
-
"No fucking way," Taemin shouts when Jinki introduces him to Minho. "Hyung, you and Choi?"
Jinki winces, "This is a library."
"You never told me," Taemin goes on almost jumping up and down he's so excited.
Minho smiles, eyes slipping back and forth between the two. He still isn’t too sure of the dynamic of the relationship between the two and the explanation Jinki had provided him beforehand did nothing but fuel his curiosity.
"I heard Jinki was helping you with your books and things."
Taemin nods, "he never said or I would have sent two presents every Christmas."
Taemin turns to Jinki. "Hyung," he says. "You never said."
Jinki grins and Minho knows that this meeting was more important than Jinki had made it out to be. He had realized within minutes of being introduced to him that this Taemin was close to Jinki’s heart, just by watching the fond smiles and proud eyes that Jinki bestows upon the child. But now he can see just how much Taemin looks up to Jinki, literally and figuratively, with bright, sparkling eyes and he vows to honor their bond. Taemin turns and presents him with a purple permanent marker, eyes asking the question the mouth is too shy to voice. Minho beams and conjures up a stack of copies of his official profile picture - the same picture that has been plastered on the quidditch player trading cards for the past few years- and starts signing away. He listens to Taemin gush over his performance at the finals, rejoicing internally when he hears Jinki concur, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. By the end of the whole affair, Minho is ready to talk to steal the boy away and keep him forever, or at least speak boy’s mother so he can work out some sort of visitation agreement for the holidays. He knows Jinki would not mind in the least.
"Go home," Jinki tells him. "Your mother is going to kill me."
"Okay, but I'd like to tell my mom about this if that's okay."
Minho nods and Taemin skips off. He has a hand on the door when he stops, turns to Jinki and frowns.
"Hyung," Taemin says, the lines of his face serious as he regards the space in the library. "Professor Trelawney said I'm probably a Seer, but when I asked Professor Firenze, he said I probably have centaur blood. My mom says that centaurs are just as much snobs as wizards are and they both like to take credit for things that they have no right to. She thought you should know."
Minho frowns and can see by Jinki’s blank expression that he is just as speechless as Minho himself. Taemin just smiles and waves on his way out.
A/N: SO. How was it? I hope you guys liked it! As always, comments are highly appreciated. The next chapter to Bet will be up tomorrow and if you guys notice any grammar mistakes or anything like that, please point them out. This is unbeta-d
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Onho, slight KyuhyunxOnew
Warnings: mushy?
Word count: 7276
Summary: In which Minho is a quidditch player and married to a neglectful Jinki who owns a book store. Magical & Post-Hogwarts AU!
Disclaimer: This story is meant to be a supplement to one by static_abyss. As a result, some of the dialogue was not written by me but rather copied from her brilliant story, WITH her permission.
A/N: This is like a counterpart to static_abyss's story Tell me what happens next and has been written with her express permission. This story can stand alone but is in Minho's POV (Her story is in Jinki's POV) so if you want a more complete sense of what's going on here, you should read her story as well. It's a bit disjointed but I kind of like it. I hope you do too
Minho sighs, tossing and turning for what seems like the tenth time since he decided to go to sleep seven minutes ago. He has had another long day of intense quidditch practice and by all rights he should have passed out the minute his exhausted body hit the bed, like the rest of his teammates undoubtedly had. He had never had too much of a problem falling asleep after practice before. The problem this time could be that the inn had enough space for each player to have his own room; he tends to sleep better when he can feel the presence of another in his room. But he knows that the problem runs deeper than the lack of a roommate- he misses the warmth that comes with being cuddled up with Jinki in bed, especially on days like today where he has been out in the cold long enough that even heating charms weren’t able to make him feel a shred of warmth.
He wonders what Jinki is doing right at that very moment. Whether he’s poring over a pile of spell books that he likes to pretend Minho doesn’t know about. Or if he is even taking enough time away from work to eat properly. Jinki has always been like that, a little spacey, a little introverted, but always reliable. Always comfortable. Always home. For Minho, every day is an uncertainty. There are times when he gets injured and does not know if he will be able to recover enough to play at the same level as he was used to; after all, even magic can only do so much. There are times when he makes mistakes and sees them amplified all around him until they encompass his very being and leave him feeling like a little nothing. Like the instances when the media will take a little slip on his broom and use it as basis to question his total worth and merit as a quidditch player. Those are the times when he just wants to crawl up into a little hole, so safe and snug that there is no way anything could ever get close enough to hurt him. And that’s what he has with Jinki. What he had always had with Jinki. Minho craved companionship and constancy after a life full of neglect from his sometimes well-intentioned but ignorant muggle parents and Jinki was nothing if not constant. Even in Hogwarts- hell, even when they had first met, Jinki had been main constant in his life.
They were both muggleborn and relied upon each other for support in times when it seemed like they didn’t belong. He could still remember being shorter than Jinki and being able to fit right into his small arms. He had soon outgrown that tiny stature and the age where he could have sought out comfort in that way without being judged. By that time, Jinki had faded into the background, not because others wanted to but because he wanted it for himself. He had always known exactly what he had wanted out of life, and Minho admired that because he could not say the same. What Minho had was an above average athletic ability and looks that appealed to people he wasn’t interested in. The boys in his year envied his popularity with the girls (and some boys), but it was never really something Minho had desired. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that while the girls fawned over him whenever he succeeded, they were almost never around when he failed. But Jinki was. He was always there and Minho loved him for it.
Sure, the fact that a crowd always surrounded him now wherever he went remained constant, but the people that made up the crowd changed. And Minho personally cared more about the people than the crowd as a whole. When he saw the same fans in the crowd, he knew he was doing something right. When he saw a large crowd but not a familiar face amongst them, he felt unsure inside. Sometimes old fans would come back, and new fans would turn into old fans, but it changed too much for Minho to ever really feel comfortable with. That was why Jinki not showing up at his matches anymore really bothered him; he didn’t know what he had done wrong but didn’t even know if his attempts to fix it had worked; Jinki was constant in that too- once he decided to stop showing up he really didn’t show up again.
Jinki’s loyalty wasn’t the only reason why he loved Jinki, but it was what had first drawn him to the other man. He had not expected that what he had initially perceived as closeness between friends of similar backgrounds was actually the respect and love found between intimate lovers, but he had never regretted it. He could still pinpoint the exact day he had asked Jinki out. It had been a warm Sunday afternoon, and he had finally worked up enough courage after staring at the giant squid thrashing moving about in the black lake. Once he had made up his resolve, finding Jinki had not been hard to do. He had not even hesitated before walking in the direction of the library, and found the other in the process of cleaning up after what, from the looks of it, had to have been an intense study session. He had looked up when he felt the light being obstructed from in front of him, and smiled softly when he saw Minho. The smile had been his undoing and he found himself croaking out an awkward “Will you go out with me”. The frown that had followed had alarmed him, and Jinki dropping his books a minute later had nearly stopped his heart, but the reactions had apparently not been indicative of a rejection, as he had feared. The memory of Jinki’s bright, loving eyes and sunshiny smile as he agreed to go on a date with Minho was still one that raced to the front of his mind when he needed to conjure a particularly powerful patronus.
The first night he comes back after three months he’s so relieved to have the familiar warmth that is Jinki back in his arms that he nearly groans in protest when he feels the other pull away and leave him in a sudden flurry of cold. He’s too exhausted to move at the moment and cannot even bring himself to sit up and demand that Jinki return to bed, but as he hears Jinki murmur incantations from much too far away, he vows to get to the bottom of the issue. He knows that come morning, Jinki will undoubtedly deny the existence of the issue, but he isn’t stupid. He knows that something is bothering his husband, he knows it from the uneasy quirk of his lips and the stiffness that springs up in his body the instant Minho comes in contact. He’s sure he already knows part of it, and he will get to the bottom of the rest, but tomorrow.
-
"Are you having anything to eat?" Minho asks in the morning.
Jinki shakes his head and runs a hand through his dark hair, and Minho bites his lip to prevent an endless litany of carefully worded and well-intentioned but indubitably annoying (To Jinki at least) reprimands to take better care of himself from spilling forth.
"You need to have something," he says instead, pulling out things from the fridge.
Neither of them really knows how to cook, but he uses cooking as an excuse to turn away from Jinki’s blank stare anyway. He hates their kitchen, hates the stark contrast between the white countertops and cabinets and the well-scrubbed but still grimy tiles on the floor. Jinki likes all the white, says it looks homey, but to Minho it all just serves as a reminder of the sterile hospital wing he had spent so much of his time in Hogwarts at.
"I'm fine." Jinki says, watching as Minho cracks an egg over the skillet on the stove. "You cook?"
Minho laughs, because he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. It comes out deeper than he intended and resonates through the too-silent kitchen. Jinki doesn’t seem to mind, if the smile on his face when Minho looks back at him to double check is anything to go by. He grins in response and turns back because he doesn’t trust himself to not mess this easy camaraderie up.
He finishes scrambling the eggs in the skillet and ladles the finished product out on two plates. He turns to Jinki who is still standing there but looks distracted. He takes his hand, leaning in out of instinct. He can smell the familiar soap that Jinki uses and it makes him smile. "What time do you come out of work?"
"Seven," Jinki answers and pulls his hand out of Minho's. "Have you seen my wand?"
"Yeah, it's on the counter by the fridge." He sighs internally, pushing away his disappointment at the obvious rejection.
"Huh?" Jinki says blankly. "I thought I took this to bed with me."
"You did," Minho answers with his back to him, unwilling to turn and let Jinki see the pain he knows must be in his eyes. He doesn’t know if he sounds as upset as he feels, but he hopes not. He had known before coming home that he would not have the welcome he craved, but this was too much. Why was Jinki so cold? What did this mean for them?
"So, what are you doing today?" Jinki asks. He seems to be working hard to keep any emotion out of his voice.
"I have a few interviews, a round at the gym then back here," Minho answers and already feels exhausted at the mere thought of doing more things. Last night’s sleep had not been as restorative as he had hoped. "I'll catch you for lunch.” it’s a question, even if it doesn’t sound like one.
"That sounds good," He smiles, glad Jinki is willing to give him that at least. He’s already planning a nice, quiet meal at their favorite restaurant. Maybe afterwards they can really talk and air their grievances so that they can begin to move on. And then maybe, just maybe, they can get to the stage where they will both want to get… reacquainted with each other. Just the thought of it causes blood to rush south and he smirks even though he knows that they’re nowhere near that stage at this point. He shakes his head as if to clear his mind when he hears. "Will you be home early?"
He turns around without schooling his features back into the usual detached mask, and regrets it when Jinki frowns up at him. This is not a promising start.
"I wanted to ask you something," Minho says. He feels nervous, unsure if Jinki will even want to spend more time with him than he really has to. Jinki’s grumbling response does nothing for his confidence
"There's a party to celebrate that my team made it to the Quidditch World Cup," he pauses. He wants to make this sound like something Jinki would want to go to, but how? And why? Is it not enough that Minho, who has never asked Jinki to do anything that could potentially make him uncomfortable, wants him there? He should not feel this awkward asking his husband for a date. He shouldn’t even have to feel like he needs to ask. "It's this weekend. Tomorrow actually. Would you like to come with me?"
Jinki nods, and walks out without so much as a goodbye. Minho is ecstatic. He eats his eggs, and the ones from Jinki’s forgotten plate as well, before clearing his mess up and heading to the bathroom. He spends a few minutes just staring into his own reflection, trying to quell his nervousness. He hasn’t felt this strange mix of anticipation and nerves since the day he proposed to Jinki, and the thought thrills him. He’s so lost in his thoughts of warm eye smiles and kisses exchanged infront of a small but approving bunch of their closest friends that he doesn’t even notice the red envelope flutter in through the mail slot on their door until it comes and floats right next to his ear. His eyes widen impossibly but he doesn’t have a chance to do much more before the envelope explodes and Key’s distinctive shriek echoes through the bathroom
Choi Minho! You’re going to be late! Hurry the hell up or I’m going to kick your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit, let alone fly during the world cup.
The howler dissolves into tiny little pieces of ash and Minho is left staring in shock and trying to get his hearing back.
-
That afternoon finds Minho standing in Diagon Alley buying a set of elegant auto-stamping quill for Jinki.He had gotten through his schedule for the day much faster than expected, partly due to the fact that the Witch Weekly interview had been cancelled with no advance notice. Kibum was furious but Minho couldn’t care less. He had a lunch date with Jinki in a few hours and was planning on using the time in between to find a little present to surprise him with. It was in Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment that he came up with the idea of buying a new, top of the line quill for Jinki. He had promptly walked over to Amanuensis Quills and after half an hour spent carefully examining the goods, he had found the perfect one. With just two items left on his shopping list, a large pack of sugar quills and some Fizzing Whizzbees (Jinki’s favorites), he headed out of the store.
It’s when he reaches Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop that he sees them. Jinki with a tall, and curly dark haired wizard. A smile blooms across his face at the sight of his love, and he opens his mouth to call out to Jinki until he sees the smile on Jinki’s face. It’s not the polite smile that Jinki usually offers acquaintances, it’s more of the flirtatious smile that he used to gift Minho with. It’s clear that this isn’t just some random person Jinki had run into and was exchanging pleasantries with. This is something else, and he nearly gasps when the man turns a little and he can see that he is none other than Cho Kyuhyun, asshole extraordinaire and Minister of Magic hopeful. And suddenly Minho feels all the elation with which he had just shopped drain out of him. He feels tired. And Jealous. Very jealous.It’s not so much that he’s jealous at Jinki getting romantic attention from someone other than him, although he is very jealous about that too. But it’s more that Jinki seems to actually want that attention that bugs him. He’s not usually the type to get irrationally jealous and possessive; he has always known that Jinki is attractive and that he will naturally attract admirers. But the scene before his eyes bothers him more than he had thought possible. Here is a man, far more influential and better looking than him, standing far too close to Jinki for Minho’s comfort and Jinki seems to be encouraging him. He wants to know what they could possibly be talking about like this , what could possibly make Jinki smile so much. He walks closer and closer, somehow managing to remain undetected. The lack of acknowledgment only irks Minho more; what could they possibly be that engrossed in that they wouldn’t notice Minho walking closer to them in broad daylight on an otherwise empty street.
"Hey," Jinki says, and Minho starts in surprise at how happy and un-emotionless he sounds. "You never told me what book it was you were looking for."
"It was a pickup line." Minho sees red.
"Excuse me," He has to say something, and he’s glad that that is what he has come out with; he’s unsure of his relationship enough without having to worry about the consequences that hexing the future Minister of Magic will bring.
"Minho," Kyuhyun says, and Minho knows that he’s trying to figure out where he knows him from.
He wraps an arm around Jinki’s shoulders because it feels right. He doesn’t worry about the fact that it is more contact than he has initiated with Jinki in a long time. He doesn’t even focus too much on how uncomfortable it’s going to make Jinki. All he thinks about is the fact that Kyuhyun was coming dangerously close and even if he and Jinki are done for, he would be damned before he let another man take advantage of his Jinki. So it is with no small level of satisfaction that he watches Kyuhyun’s eyes flicker over to his arm and between their faces and Minho smiles, a twisted ugly grimace of a thing, because he knows that Kyuhyun knows now. He doesn’t want to think about why that does nothing to alleviate the hurt he feels inside.
"So it's Minho," Kyuhyun comments.
"Yeah," Minho snaps, and stops because if he says anything else he might explode and he still doesn’t want to make a scene. Not for his sake, nor Kyuhyun’s, but for Jinki.Jinki doesn’t seem to appreciate this show of restraint, because he shrugs Minho's arm off his shoulder and takes a step away. Undeterred, Minho reaches for his hand and twines their fingers, hoping that Jinki will understand and not begrudge him this. It’s not meant as a show of ownership or anything ridiculous like that; he just needs the comfort of knowing that even after spending time with this obviously interested and very influential man, Jinki still wants him. Maybe that’s why it hurts when Jinki rips his hand away and stuffs it down his pocket, although he does appreciate that Jinki at least tries to pretend that he’s looking for something.
"I'll talk to you," Jinki says to Kyuhyun.
"Please do," Kyuhyun grins, and Minho wants to hit something. "And thank you for lunch."
Kyuhyun disapparates with one last smirk but even his absence does nothing to placate Minho. Jinki, unfazed as always, turns and heads up out of the alley, no doubt heading back to the library. Minho isn’t ready to let it go, so he follows.
"Want to explain what that was?" Minho asks, and there’s no controlling the anger in those words. Jinki just looks at him blankly, as if this were a conversation about something that had nothing to do with him. Minho is tired of seeing that expression, tired of those lifeless eyes that haunt him even in the absence of their owner. Suddenly, he feels exhausted.
"I went to have lunch with a friend," Jinki answers, muttering familiar spells to dismantle the wards he must have placed on the library before leaving for lunch. Minho has nothing better to do, so he mumbles along to speed up the process.
"He was flirting with you." He hopes for a frown, a disagreeing shake of the head, anything to indicate that Jinki had not intentionally gone out with someone else who wanted to bed him.
"I know," Jinki nods. And it’s the first time Minho can really remember feeling this angry at Jinki. He knows he has made mistakes, they both have, but he doesn’t appreciate Jinki’s acting like it’s entirely his fault. Jinki undermining the effort he’s tried to make
"So," Minho says through gritted teeth.
"I'm not stupid. Or five," Jinki says, with a sense of finality that sets his teeth on edge
"What's with you?" he says, and he hates how quiet his voice has gone. He doesn’t try to speak louder though because he is afraid his voice will crack with all the pent-up emotion his body seems determined to release at the very moment. "You haven’t said anything about me being back. Is something wrong?"
Jinki shakes his head, and Minho feels himself swell up with fury at Jinki’s persistent denial of the problems that stand between them.
"I don't know what you expect. You're back. You'll leave. You'll come back. I'm used to it."
"So you don’t care?" And suddenly he feels like a hot air balloon after it had been popped; it’s like all the hot rage that had been building up inside him just drained out of him at Jinki’s point-blank indifference.
Jinki sighs, "does it really matter?"
Minho remains calm, an admirable feat seeing as how his insides have all shriveled up in agony. Have his efforts, late and weak as they are, been pointless from the start? Does Jinki really not care? Is Minho stupid for still trying to ensure a better, happier future for them? Is he ready to give up all that has been holding them together for this long? Is there still anything left? He mulls all these thoughts over as he blankly stares at Jinki walking around, straightening the house up. The answer comes to him in the blinding flash of sunlight that filters in through the curtains Jinki has just drawn back. It’s almost as if it is a sign from god, and while Minho has never been particularly religious, he is willingly to try anything so long as it makes his marriage works. Because he really, really wants it to. He needs to say something now and retreat so that he can formulate his next approach, because he isn’t ready to give up on them. Not by a long shot.
"It does matter," he says, schooling his face so that Jinki won’t be tempted to read through his emotions like he always does so easily.
Jinki looks up in time to catch what he thinks is a half-defeated, half-angry expression on Minho's face before he walks out.
-
Minho doesn’t go home that night, choosing instead to stay at Jonghyun’s house. Jonghyun and he had managed to beat the odds and retain their friendship regardless of their statuses as captains of rival quidditch teams. Jonghyun’s been one of the only people in his field that Minho can stand to be around for more than is absolutely necessary; there’s something about the man that enables him to be childish and silly but still intuitive and insightful in tough situations. This time is no different, because he takes one look at Minho’s face before he ushers him in and wordlessly points him towards the spare bedroom. Minho flashes a smile back at him and he just nods understandingly, before retiring to his own room. Minho falls into bed with a sigh, closes his eyes and tries not to think about the cold and empty static abyss that seems to be trying to smother him. He clenches his eyes shut and counts sheep backwards from a 100. He falls asleep somewhere around 56, give or take about twenty because he is pretty sure he has messed up in his counting a few times. He dreams of nothing.
The next morning, he stumbles out of bed to find a plate of breakfast waiting for him at the table. He’s hesitant about eating it, even though he hasn’t eaten in over a day, because he knows from experience that Jonghyun cannot even fix a bowl of cereal without messing it up. Just as he is contemplating forgoing breakfast altogether, he spots a note lying next to the plate-
No, Jjong didn’t make this. I should be insulted that you even thought that he could create this masterpiece. I’ll let it slide because I know that you are stupid. Eat and meet us at mine so we can try to make you look less like a troll. And for Merlin’s sake, take a shower.
there’s no name at the bottom, but he didn’t need one; as soon as he had read the second sentence, he had known who wrote it. Yeah. Kim Kibum, his manager, his stylist, his mentor, his confidant and Jonghyun’s other half is definitely responsible for the “masterpiece” on the table. He didn’t know how he hadn’t recognized it before- it was definitely made in Kibum style. On the blue china plate was a smirking face. It strip of crinkled bacon for a mouth, eggs sunny-side up for eyes, and pieces of a grilled cheese sandwich for the eyebrows and nose.
He smiles, and eats. He usually hates eating by himself, but he’s too touched to hate anything at the moment; it had been a long time since someone had done something that thoughtful for him. Jinki never ate breakfast, so it was understandable that he had never made Minho any either. Sighing, he finished up and went into Jonghyun’s bathroom. Normally, he wasn’t allowed because Kibum stored all his expensive bath products in there but today he felt mischievous enough to use them. Besides, Key had been the one who insisted on his showering anyway.
-
Later that afternoon, Minho is putting the finishing touches on his hair. Despite Kibum protesting at the outdated style and cut, Minho had dressed himself in the black robes Jinki had bought him ages ago. He had always had a love-hate relationship with the robes, but he still tended to wear them on special occasions because they made him feel like Jinki was there with him, supporting him. Jinki made him smile by promising to come today. So he’s wearing the black dress robes to make Jinki smile. Minho finishes fixing his hair and turns to Kibum for a final approval. The party had already been in full swing for an hour or so, and he had been itching to go downstairs and find Jinki for just as long, but Kibum had refused to let him leave until he was completely satisfied with his appearance. Besides, Kibum had always said that being fashionably late was always a good thing. He didn’t agree, but with Kibum that never mattered.
Soon enough, Kibum gives the okay and the three of them walk downstairs together. Kibum and Jonghyun are chatting about something or the other, but Minho finds that he cannot pay attention. He’s going to see Jinki soon. He hopes so anyway because he hasn’t spoken with Jinki since yesterday afternoon and things had not ended on a happy note so he has no way of knowing if Jinki is there or not. Maybe he should just go back upstairs and change out of these robes. He feels stupid. It’s too late now though because they’re already at the entrance to Jonghyun’s foyer and he can hear people talking and music playing. His stomach gives way and he moves as if to walk backwards away from the party but Jonghyun and Kibum both descend on him at that moment. They give him knowing looks and string their arms through his, effectively sandwiching him between them and rendering him unable to move. He groans and allows the two to pull him forward, zoning out the minute Kibum starts lecturing him about manning up. He absentmindedly twines his fingers through Jonghyun’s soft blond hair, just to have something to do with his hands.
Once they’re safely inside the room, Kibum walks off to greet amber, his cousin, and Minho who is still sore from the last time he irritated Amber chooses to stay away. He and Jonghyun walk together, and Jonghyun’s impression of Amber’s tantrum mode sets Minho off. The laughter leaves momentarily distracted from what he had been doing from the moment he got in the room; inconspicuously looking around to detect any sign of Jinki’s presence. When he straightens up again, he has no need to go back to surveying the room; he has just seen Jinki and it appears that Jinki has seen him too because he starts walking in his direction. He is wearing the deep green robes he had brought back from Ireland, and the knowledge sets his heart afire. He’s so happy at seeing Jinki there, so relieved that their fight yesterday wasn’t bad enough to force the other to break his promise, and just so in love with Jinki that it’s all he can do to plaster that familiar mask back on his face so as to not burst into tears and embarrass them all.
"Jinki," Minho says when Jinki's close enough that anything other than acknowledgment would be flat out rude. "This is Jonghyun. We met after my team kicked his ass." He already knows the punch is coming; Jonghyun is still sore that his high-ranked team had lost to Minho’s three years ago in what was now considered to be one of the the biggest upsets in quidditch history. He punches back on instinct, but Jinki’s presence has rattled him enough that he misses and Jonghyun smirks and punches his shoulder again. Minho groans, knowing he will have no choice but to chase after the already fleeing Jonghyun until he successfully lands a few punches; his competitive side won’t let him rest until he does now that Jinki’s here. So he runs and thanks god for his long legs because it doesn’t take him long at all until he has a sheepish Jonghyun in his arms and he proceeds to pummel, jokingly of course, the life out of him. Once he has Jonghyun begging for mercy, he stands up gracefully, as if he hadn’t just been rolling around on the floor with another grown man. He hoists Jonghyun up and together they walk back, laughing at their own silliness. Minho spots Key speaking to Jinki and hopes that he’s not saying anything that will make him look immature and unworthy of Jinki’s affections.
"I'm sorry," Jinki says. "I don't know who you are?"
"Kibum," the guy answers. "I'm Minho's manager."
"Stylist would be a more accurate term," Minho says as he and Jonghyun reach them. He’s thankful that Key doesn’t seem to have done any damage. He laughs and wraps and arm around Jonghyun, feeling happy to be standing there with the people that matter the most to him.
"Your picture is in the paper every week. You'd make me look bad if you looked and acted anything less than perfect.” And it’s true, but he would never do anything of the sort. Not intentionally anyway; after all, there was a chance that Jinki would read it and he would not want to look bad in front of him.
"That's never been an issue," Jinki says.
Minho stares at Jinki, who keeps his eyes fixed onto Kibum. He doesn’t know if Jinki intended that to be as complimentary as it sounds, but what else could that have possibly meant?
"Minho's always been well behaved and he listens. But that could just be because he's married to you."
Jinki nods, but it doesn’t seem like he’s actually agreeing. If anything, he looks a bit sad
"What do you do when he loses?"
Jonghyun laughs and Minho studiously avoids Jinki’s gaze. He knows he’s always been a bit competitive and even though that part of him remains locked up most of the time, he always loses some of the control when Jinki is around. He can’t help it; he wants Jinki to be proud of him.
"He doesn't lose," Jonghyun explains. "He calls a draw until the next match."
"At least I win more than I lose," Minho says. "I've always been a winner. Ask Jinki." He waits, uncertain of whether or not Jinki wants to talk about anything at all.
Jinki smiles wide, and it hurts Minho to look at it because it just seems wrong.
"Sometimes even I don't believe he's a Gryffindor," Jinki nods.
"Gryffindor," Kibum rolls his eyes. "Sad, pathetic losers. But, I guess Gryffindor is better than Hufflepuff."
Jonghyun coughs loud and rude and turns pointedly away from Kibum. "So, Jinki," he says. "Minho won't shut up about you. What did he say about me?" Minho winces internally; he knows Jinki knows next to nothing about his friends, but it’s not like it’s Minho’s fault. Jinki had never shown any sort of interest in that part of his life.
"Nothing, really," Jinki answers. "He's not home much." Ouch. As if his being there would have done anything; Jinki may physically be home more than he is, but his heart hasn’t been there for months.
Kibum hits Minho, "you haven’t spent any time with him yet?"
Minho shakes his head. "There hasn't been any time," he says. It’s not strictly true but it’s the easiest way to explain the situation without revealing just how far they’ve come from each other. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to fool because it’s clear that no one believes that statement, but it makes him feel better all the same.
"Then go," Kibum waves in the general direction of the door. "This party is all for show anyway. No one here will miss you."
Minho doubts that Jinki believes him, hell, even he has trouble believing it, but he’s past caring. Kibum and Jonghyun have just okayed Minho’s absence at one of their parties, and that’s more than enough to convince Minho to get out of there. He bids his friends goodbye, wordlessly thanking Jonghyun for his hospitality through a hard punch to the arm, and follows Jinki to the cloakroom.
"You came," Minho says, straightening his cloak and pulling the two ends tighter across his chest to fend off the biting cold gust of wind that blows past as they step outside.
Jinki nods and they head down the street. Minho feels, rather than sees, Jinki pull on his cloak and has to restrain himself from reaching over and straightening the collar of those Irish dress robes he had spent three hours picking out. If he closes his eyes, he can still hear Kibum nagging at him to hurry up. He opens his eyes again, and glances over at Jinki, getting courage from the weak half smile he receives; he likes knowing that Jinki is just as lost as he is.
"You asked me to come," Jinki answers. A very Jinki-like response; not revealing too much but honest all the same.
"I didn’t expect you to." If honesty is what Jinki wants, honesty is what he’ll get.
The silence stretches between them and yet Minho feels content. As he sees it, the ball is in Jinki’s court now. He has introduced Jinki to the two other people that matter most to him, shown Jinki more of his life. He has done nothing he wants to hide and if this is it for him, he won’t leave without letting Jinki know exactly how he feels.
"You should watch some of my games," This honest, no holds barred approach is not as hard as he had thought it would be. He continues, for once not being bothered by Jinki’s continued silence.
"I don’t forget about you," he says, his eyes focused straight ahead of him "I think about you when I'm away because whenever I go out people stop me and tell me how many points I scored at a certain game, as if that's all I am. And when I don't score well, they stop me to complain about that and all the time I feel like I have to do better, be better and you're not there like you were in school." It surprises him how truthful that statement is. Not because he’s trying to lie or flatter Jinki, but because he doesn’t know why he’s never said it before. When had it gotten to the point where he felt that he couldn’t even be honest with his own husband?
"Remember in our third year," Minho laughs. "Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff and we were down 400 points because I couldn’t get the quaffle in any of the stupid hoops. Our captain yelled at me for hours, said we couldn't win unless by some miracle we scored those 400 points and caught the snitch. The next game I scored 350. I was ecstatic, but you stopped me and said-"
"You always forgot there are other people besides you on the team." There’s no negative judgment in that statement but he has to stop himself from smiling fondly at the thinly veiled reproach in Jinki’s tone. He has always known how to read in between the lines where Jinki is concerned and he knows what Jinki means now.
"I do," Minho consents. "All the time."
Acknowledgement of his flaws had ironically never been a problem for Minho and he relishes in the feeling of it as he and Jinki walk together, not holding hands but close enough.
"I have to go again," Minho says, and stops because he doesn’t want to say anything else. Can’t bring himself to say anything else. Minutes go by and Jinki hasn’t responded yet.
"I'll come back every night. I'll floo in. I promise." Now he’s just letting it all out, hoping against hope that he can draw a reaction out of the silent man.
Jinki nods. "Yeah," he says. "We can try."
Minho looks at him, really looks at him and sees the faith and hope, the life, that he has been searching for in those eyes. He leans forward and brushes his lips against Jinki’s, because he can and because he doesn’t think he can stay away for a moment longer. It doesn’t matter that they have to pull apart and readjust before getting comfortable again, doesn’t matter that their actions are still a little unsteady, a little unsure because it’s getting there and he has no problem touching his husband until they both know what to do with themselves again.
-
He makes sure to keep his promise, because it really is the least he can do. Some nights he and Jinki cuddle and watch cheesy movies, other nights he just has a chance to say hello before he crashes on the sofa. Those types of nights seem to increase in number as the quidditch world cup approaches, and he resents the fact that he can’t enjoy both his loves at the same time but it’s the happiest he can remember being in a long time. He doesn’t really know what Jinki’s doing to occupy his time away from Minho and he can’t bring himself to ask; he isn’t sure if their relationship is ready for that, if Jinki is ready for that.
-
Minho feels raw emotions coursing through his body too fast to be identified as he and his teammates make their way towards the ground. The crowd screams and shouts as his beaters hoist him onto their shoulders. Sitting there on his teammates shoulders, he feels as though this should be the happiest moment of his life. But it isn’t. He loves that he won, that he and his team were able to bring happiness to thousands of people, but he feels just a little hollow on the inside. And then suddenly he knows where he wants to be more than anywhere else in the world. He humors his fans, and his coaches, and the reporters but quickly makes his goodbyes before grasping the cup and flooing home; he has a husband to make proud. His shoes skid against the floor in his hurry to get out of his fireplace, but scuff marks on expensive, custom-made sport shoes and scratches on gold trophies don’t matter because now he has his husband in his arms and he never wants to let go.
"We won," Minho grins, still a little breathless from the kissing. Jinki just murmurs in agreement and tightens his hold around Minho’s waist, the touch familiar enough to comfort him but still one that he is unacquainted with enough to cause goosebumps to erupt across his arms and the back of his neck. He smiles happily in return and buries his face in Jinki’s beautiful hair.
-
"I want you to meet someone," Jinki says that night and Minho nods, heart starting to beat just a little faster in anticipation. He knows Jinki isn’t one who would have another lover on the side, let alone spring it on Minho in such a fashion but his brain has had years of exposure to cheap sappy dramas and it’s not his fault he feels a little paranoid. "His name is Taemin and I've been helping him get through school."
Minho laughs and the warmth and relief pooling in his belly overwhelms him enough to leave him feeling a little lightheaded. He learns forward, kisses Jinki's cheek and folds his arms across Jinki's back. He’s ecstatic that Jinki has warmed up to him enough to allow him back into his life. "All right," Minho agrees. "Let me meet Taemin."
-
"No fucking way," Taemin shouts when Jinki introduces him to Minho. "Hyung, you and Choi?"
Jinki winces, "This is a library."
"You never told me," Taemin goes on almost jumping up and down he's so excited.
Minho smiles, eyes slipping back and forth between the two. He still isn’t too sure of the dynamic of the relationship between the two and the explanation Jinki had provided him beforehand did nothing but fuel his curiosity.
"I heard Jinki was helping you with your books and things."
Taemin nods, "he never said or I would have sent two presents every Christmas."
Taemin turns to Jinki. "Hyung," he says. "You never said."
Jinki grins and Minho knows that this meeting was more important than Jinki had made it out to be. He had realized within minutes of being introduced to him that this Taemin was close to Jinki’s heart, just by watching the fond smiles and proud eyes that Jinki bestows upon the child. But now he can see just how much Taemin looks up to Jinki, literally and figuratively, with bright, sparkling eyes and he vows to honor their bond. Taemin turns and presents him with a purple permanent marker, eyes asking the question the mouth is too shy to voice. Minho beams and conjures up a stack of copies of his official profile picture - the same picture that has been plastered on the quidditch player trading cards for the past few years- and starts signing away. He listens to Taemin gush over his performance at the finals, rejoicing internally when he hears Jinki concur, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. By the end of the whole affair, Minho is ready to talk to steal the boy away and keep him forever, or at least speak boy’s mother so he can work out some sort of visitation agreement for the holidays. He knows Jinki would not mind in the least.
"Go home," Jinki tells him. "Your mother is going to kill me."
"Okay, but I'd like to tell my mom about this if that's okay."
Minho nods and Taemin skips off. He has a hand on the door when he stops, turns to Jinki and frowns.
"Hyung," Taemin says, the lines of his face serious as he regards the space in the library. "Professor Trelawney said I'm probably a Seer, but when I asked Professor Firenze, he said I probably have centaur blood. My mom says that centaurs are just as much snobs as wizards are and they both like to take credit for things that they have no right to. She thought you should know."
Minho frowns and can see by Jinki’s blank expression that he is just as speechless as Minho himself. Taemin just smiles and waves on his way out.
A/N: SO. How was it? I hope you guys liked it! As always, comments are highly appreciated. The next chapter to Bet will be up tomorrow and if you guys notice any grammar mistakes or anything like that, please point them out. This is unbeta-d