Incidental; PG
Pairing: Minkey
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1K+
Summary: If you ask him, he’s incredibly happy with how the circumstances turned out. But the thing is, after five months of being acquaintances, Minho can kind of understand why the other guy proposed that fast.
Minho didn't mean to see it.
He swears it was just purely coincidental as he watches two guys in the middle of an almost fight. By almost fight, he meant that the taller, more muscled one was clutching the smaller one's wrist in his grip. And by the looks of it, it must have hurt, judging by how the smaller one was wincing and trying to pry away the fingers around his wrist and now around his torso.
Minho looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching the same scene as he was. But then he remembers that it's already 9pm and that it was the time for the amusement park to close. He spots a family of five walking happily to the exit, along with some couples heading the same way. And if he was correct, no one else was stopping to see what he was seeing, or at least as invested in the scene as he was.
But these two, the two men, Minho supplies in his mind, seem to be unmindful about their surroundings. Maybe a few minutes have passed and Minho is still leaning against the counter of the store, the same store whose floor he was supposed to be mopping and yet, he's still watching the two guys stay in front of the lit Ferris wheel. The scene was kind of romantic, to be honest, given the background, mood, setting and all, if he didn’t know any better.
And now, the bigger guy must have coaxed the smaller one into listening to him, holding the smaller one's face in his hands. Maybe they're in the middle of reconciling, maybe the smaller one is in the middle of firing up the argument now that there's barely anyone around, or maybe- oh shit.
The taller one is now getting down on one knee, rummaging something in his pocket and the smaller one is looking around, his face confused and then turning panicked by the way he's tightly clutching the straps of his bag. Minho can see the bigger one whispering, "Marry me."
And for moments passed, the smaller one doesn't move, still staring blankly at the other on his knees. A shake of his head, once, twice, and Minho can see the smaller one saying, "I'm sorry."
Minho looks at his feet then, feeling pity settle at the bottom of his stomach as he convinces himself that there's nothing else to see, that he doesn't have a reason to keep watching the two men, that the way he's so invested in the circumstance must be bordering on crossing the lines of other people's privacy. He picks up the mop that he has unknowingly dropped to the floor, and finds himself looking out the window once more.
The bigger guy stands up and walks away, and now the smaller guy is standing alone, his arms falling limply to his sides. His head’s still tilted down, still staring at the position the other one left. Another minute, two, and then three, before the Ferris wheel's lights turn off, even the street lamps are turned off not long after. Five minutes have passed, Minho estimates in his head, and the other guy still isn't even moving from where he's standing.
He doesn't know what pushes him to grab a bag of cotton candy from behind the counter, but he does, and before Minho is even aware of himself, he's striding out the door and walking purposefully to the other man left alone on the street.
"Here." Minho says.
The smaller guy looks from the offered candy, then slowly moving up to meet his eyes. And damn, if Minho isn't smitten, he doesn't know what else he can be called at the moment. The other guy has carefully curled blond hair, slanted eyes and high cheekbones. He falls exactly under Minho's type, but then his sense of self-preservation kicks in and deduced it isn’t the appropriate time to hit on the other guy and dispatch his hormones all over the place. Minho shakes his head as he dispels his thoughts, covering up the fact that he zoned out with a badly disguised cough.
“So,” Minho says. “Rough night?”
To Minho’s surprise, the other guy turns around and just heads for one of the benches without another word. Minho watches him sit and stare at his open palms resting on his lap, before promptly groaning and resting his face in his hands.
Feeling awkward with himself, Minho rubs the back of his neck. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for him to approach a total stranger who, by the looks of it, is not in any mood to entertain or even humor his good intentions. Besides, he should probably finish mopping the floor of the store if he wants to leave the place by ten.
“I’ll just, uh, go.” Minho says as he backs away. “The place is closing down for the night so you should probably also, um.”
Minho stops in his steps and his speech altogether as the other guy holds his hand in front of him, stretching his fingers in front of himself. “I don’t understand.” He says, a little raspy and on the side of high-pitched.
Minho clears his throat. “Well, it’s already quarter past nine and the place closes down at nine.” He says, feeling a bit idiotic for his mindless rambling as it becomes clear that that is not exactly what the other guy was pertaining to.
“Five months.” He says before looking Minho in the eyes. “I just met him five months ago and, just, I don’t understand.”
“Uh, yeah.” Minho takes the continuation of the conversation as his cue to get closer. The other is occupying one side of the bench and Minho isn’t sure if he’s welcome to sit on the other half or just standing closing enough will do. But then he figures that the worst case scenario here is that the other guy will raise one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him and for Minho, it’s pretty much a small sacrifice.
“Five months. That’s just too fucking fast. Right? I mean, five months.”
“Um.”
“We haven’t even moved in together yet!”
“My parents got married after knowing each other for only three months. And they’re now living- okay, um, that’s probably something you don’t want to hear right now.” It’s a testament to how he’s practically a six-foot living bundle of awkwardness with just by counting how many times he has probably scratched his nape by now.
The other guy doesn’t seem to notice, or he’s probably too kind to point it out. But then there’s the raise of one perfectly groomed eyebrow in Minho’s direction before sighing. “You saw all that, huh?”
“It’s not like I was spying on you or anything like that.” Minho says as he points out the store he’s supposed to be cleaning for as of now, a total of fifteen minutes ago. “I work there and, um, it’s hard to not notice?”
To his surprise, the other one scoffs. “What? Two gay guys in the middle of a date is considered entertaining for you?”
It’s now Minho’s turn to raise an eyebrow at the other. “It’s probably the fact that you were trying to get away from him and he didn’t let you.” Minho nods to the other’s wrist which is now turning into an ugly shade of red. “You should probably put some ice on that.”
The other frowns down at his wrist. “I’m afraid ice is inaccessible to me at the moment.” He sighs before suddenly standing up, which also causes Minho to mimic the movement and remembers not to drop the bag of cotton candy still in his grip. “I should go.”
For the nth time that night, the rational, more careful part of him should smack the current Minho in control of his mind and body at the moment. “I have ice.” He mindlessly blurts out. The other is looking at him curiously and Minho takes a mental note to double the amount of smacks he deserves. “I mean, um, at the store. Ice dispenser.”
To his utter surprise, the other man laughs and Jesus fucking Christ, every part of him is becoming more and more attractive in Minho’s eyes. He feels a feint heat creeping up his neck as he once again, inevitably clears his throat.
“Sentences, they’re a must in human communication, you know.” He laughs again and smiles with a small quirk to his lips. “Well then, lead the way Mister?”
“Minho.” Minho is definitely close to choking on his saliva and decides to postpone the unattractive event for when the other guy isn’t looking at him with such scrutiny anymore. “Choi Minho.”
“Ah. Well, I’m Kibum, Kim Kibum.” He says as he walks to the direction of the store and Minho falls in step next to him. “So.”
Minho turns. “So?”
“Is the offer for candy still on the table?”
“If you want it.”
“Wouldn’t you get into some sort of trouble for stealing?” Kibum nods to the counter as they enter the premises. “Obviously, you just grabbed it without paying.”
“My mom owns the place. She’ll forgive me for it.” Minho pauses and shifts his foot. “Or maybe, we just won’t tell her.”
Kibum laughs and Minho finds himself grinning in response.
Minho isn’t sure what he was in his previous life, but based on how incredibly lucky he is to become friends with Kibum after the whole incident, maybe he has saved a whole fucking country on his own, or invented the magical near-impossible pill to cure cancer in an alternate universe.
Surprised doesn’t fully explain how he felt upon finding Kibum walking through the doors of the store the next day, and the week after that. That is, until they both agreed to meet at another location as it’s not exactly wise for Kibum to pay for the amusement park’s entrance fee and incredibly bloated up prices of food, and for Minho’s part, well, it’s the fifth time he’s gotten scolded to stop staring and making heart-eyes at the blond customer and get some work done.
If you ask him, he’s incredibly happy with how the circumstances turned out. But the thing is, after five months of being acquaintances, Minho can kind of understand why the other guy proposed that fast.
Minho doesn’t propose on the fifth month though, but he does buy the ring, thumbing it in his pocket whenever he thinks of proposing then chickens out on their first anniversary, their third, and on every day afterwards.
Unsurprisingly, it was his innate talent of talking before thinking that makes him do spontaneous, stupid things and before he knows it, he’s down on one knee and proposes to Kibum in the middle of their ride inside the Ferris wheel, just when their carriage stops at the peak. Kibum doesn’t notice at first, too busy looking out the view of Seoul while Minho was too busy staring at his potential fiancé, if he says yes, that is.
Just his luck, Kibum says yes.
A/N: Hey there. Sorry for just appearing whenever and for leaving incomplete fics all over the place. Anyway, 2nd part of Pretending until we're not is in the works (after one full year orz) so let's just all treat this as a warm-up. Thank you! :)
A/N2: The plot of this fic isn't mine. I'll post the link of the original story I've found online, I just can't find it at the moment. Thank you again. :)
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1K+
Summary: If you ask him, he’s incredibly happy with how the circumstances turned out. But the thing is, after five months of being acquaintances, Minho can kind of understand why the other guy proposed that fast.
Minho didn't mean to see it.
He swears it was just purely coincidental as he watches two guys in the middle of an almost fight. By almost fight, he meant that the taller, more muscled one was clutching the smaller one's wrist in his grip. And by the looks of it, it must have hurt, judging by how the smaller one was wincing and trying to pry away the fingers around his wrist and now around his torso.
Minho looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching the same scene as he was. But then he remembers that it's already 9pm and that it was the time for the amusement park to close. He spots a family of five walking happily to the exit, along with some couples heading the same way. And if he was correct, no one else was stopping to see what he was seeing, or at least as invested in the scene as he was.
But these two, the two men, Minho supplies in his mind, seem to be unmindful about their surroundings. Maybe a few minutes have passed and Minho is still leaning against the counter of the store, the same store whose floor he was supposed to be mopping and yet, he's still watching the two guys stay in front of the lit Ferris wheel. The scene was kind of romantic, to be honest, given the background, mood, setting and all, if he didn’t know any better.
And now, the bigger guy must have coaxed the smaller one into listening to him, holding the smaller one's face in his hands. Maybe they're in the middle of reconciling, maybe the smaller one is in the middle of firing up the argument now that there's barely anyone around, or maybe- oh shit.
The taller one is now getting down on one knee, rummaging something in his pocket and the smaller one is looking around, his face confused and then turning panicked by the way he's tightly clutching the straps of his bag. Minho can see the bigger one whispering, "Marry me."
And for moments passed, the smaller one doesn't move, still staring blankly at the other on his knees. A shake of his head, once, twice, and Minho can see the smaller one saying, "I'm sorry."
Minho looks at his feet then, feeling pity settle at the bottom of his stomach as he convinces himself that there's nothing else to see, that he doesn't have a reason to keep watching the two men, that the way he's so invested in the circumstance must be bordering on crossing the lines of other people's privacy. He picks up the mop that he has unknowingly dropped to the floor, and finds himself looking out the window once more.
The bigger guy stands up and walks away, and now the smaller guy is standing alone, his arms falling limply to his sides. His head’s still tilted down, still staring at the position the other one left. Another minute, two, and then three, before the Ferris wheel's lights turn off, even the street lamps are turned off not long after. Five minutes have passed, Minho estimates in his head, and the other guy still isn't even moving from where he's standing.
He doesn't know what pushes him to grab a bag of cotton candy from behind the counter, but he does, and before Minho is even aware of himself, he's striding out the door and walking purposefully to the other man left alone on the street.
"Here." Minho says.
The smaller guy looks from the offered candy, then slowly moving up to meet his eyes. And damn, if Minho isn't smitten, he doesn't know what else he can be called at the moment. The other guy has carefully curled blond hair, slanted eyes and high cheekbones. He falls exactly under Minho's type, but then his sense of self-preservation kicks in and deduced it isn’t the appropriate time to hit on the other guy and dispatch his hormones all over the place. Minho shakes his head as he dispels his thoughts, covering up the fact that he zoned out with a badly disguised cough.
“So,” Minho says. “Rough night?”
To Minho’s surprise, the other guy turns around and just heads for one of the benches without another word. Minho watches him sit and stare at his open palms resting on his lap, before promptly groaning and resting his face in his hands.
Feeling awkward with himself, Minho rubs the back of his neck. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for him to approach a total stranger who, by the looks of it, is not in any mood to entertain or even humor his good intentions. Besides, he should probably finish mopping the floor of the store if he wants to leave the place by ten.
“I’ll just, uh, go.” Minho says as he backs away. “The place is closing down for the night so you should probably also, um.”
Minho stops in his steps and his speech altogether as the other guy holds his hand in front of him, stretching his fingers in front of himself. “I don’t understand.” He says, a little raspy and on the side of high-pitched.
Minho clears his throat. “Well, it’s already quarter past nine and the place closes down at nine.” He says, feeling a bit idiotic for his mindless rambling as it becomes clear that that is not exactly what the other guy was pertaining to.
“Five months.” He says before looking Minho in the eyes. “I just met him five months ago and, just, I don’t understand.”
“Uh, yeah.” Minho takes the continuation of the conversation as his cue to get closer. The other is occupying one side of the bench and Minho isn’t sure if he’s welcome to sit on the other half or just standing closing enough will do. But then he figures that the worst case scenario here is that the other guy will raise one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him and for Minho, it’s pretty much a small sacrifice.
“Five months. That’s just too fucking fast. Right? I mean, five months.”
“Um.”
“We haven’t even moved in together yet!”
“My parents got married after knowing each other for only three months. And they’re now living- okay, um, that’s probably something you don’t want to hear right now.” It’s a testament to how he’s practically a six-foot living bundle of awkwardness with just by counting how many times he has probably scratched his nape by now.
The other guy doesn’t seem to notice, or he’s probably too kind to point it out. But then there’s the raise of one perfectly groomed eyebrow in Minho’s direction before sighing. “You saw all that, huh?”
“It’s not like I was spying on you or anything like that.” Minho says as he points out the store he’s supposed to be cleaning for as of now, a total of fifteen minutes ago. “I work there and, um, it’s hard to not notice?”
To his surprise, the other one scoffs. “What? Two gay guys in the middle of a date is considered entertaining for you?”
It’s now Minho’s turn to raise an eyebrow at the other. “It’s probably the fact that you were trying to get away from him and he didn’t let you.” Minho nods to the other’s wrist which is now turning into an ugly shade of red. “You should probably put some ice on that.”
The other frowns down at his wrist. “I’m afraid ice is inaccessible to me at the moment.” He sighs before suddenly standing up, which also causes Minho to mimic the movement and remembers not to drop the bag of cotton candy still in his grip. “I should go.”
For the nth time that night, the rational, more careful part of him should smack the current Minho in control of his mind and body at the moment. “I have ice.” He mindlessly blurts out. The other is looking at him curiously and Minho takes a mental note to double the amount of smacks he deserves. “I mean, um, at the store. Ice dispenser.”
To his utter surprise, the other man laughs and Jesus fucking Christ, every part of him is becoming more and more attractive in Minho’s eyes. He feels a feint heat creeping up his neck as he once again, inevitably clears his throat.
“Sentences, they’re a must in human communication, you know.” He laughs again and smiles with a small quirk to his lips. “Well then, lead the way Mister?”
“Minho.” Minho is definitely close to choking on his saliva and decides to postpone the unattractive event for when the other guy isn’t looking at him with such scrutiny anymore. “Choi Minho.”
“Ah. Well, I’m Kibum, Kim Kibum.” He says as he walks to the direction of the store and Minho falls in step next to him. “So.”
Minho turns. “So?”
“Is the offer for candy still on the table?”
“If you want it.”
“Wouldn’t you get into some sort of trouble for stealing?” Kibum nods to the counter as they enter the premises. “Obviously, you just grabbed it without paying.”
“My mom owns the place. She’ll forgive me for it.” Minho pauses and shifts his foot. “Or maybe, we just won’t tell her.”
Kibum laughs and Minho finds himself grinning in response.
Minho isn’t sure what he was in his previous life, but based on how incredibly lucky he is to become friends with Kibum after the whole incident, maybe he has saved a whole fucking country on his own, or invented the magical near-impossible pill to cure cancer in an alternate universe.
Surprised doesn’t fully explain how he felt upon finding Kibum walking through the doors of the store the next day, and the week after that. That is, until they both agreed to meet at another location as it’s not exactly wise for Kibum to pay for the amusement park’s entrance fee and incredibly bloated up prices of food, and for Minho’s part, well, it’s the fifth time he’s gotten scolded to stop staring and making heart-eyes at the blond customer and get some work done.
If you ask him, he’s incredibly happy with how the circumstances turned out. But the thing is, after five months of being acquaintances, Minho can kind of understand why the other guy proposed that fast.
Minho doesn’t propose on the fifth month though, but he does buy the ring, thumbing it in his pocket whenever he thinks of proposing then chickens out on their first anniversary, their third, and on every day afterwards.
Unsurprisingly, it was his innate talent of talking before thinking that makes him do spontaneous, stupid things and before he knows it, he’s down on one knee and proposes to Kibum in the middle of their ride inside the Ferris wheel, just when their carriage stops at the peak. Kibum doesn’t notice at first, too busy looking out the view of Seoul while Minho was too busy staring at his potential fiancé, if he says yes, that is.
Just his luck, Kibum says yes.
A/N: Hey there. Sorry for just appearing whenever and for leaving incomplete fics all over the place. Anyway, 2nd part of Pretending until we're not is in the works (after one full year orz) so let's just all treat this as a warm-up. Thank you! :)
A/N2: The plot of this fic isn't mine. I'll post the link of the original story I've found online, I just can't find it at the moment. Thank you again. :)