[exo] aerosol hearts; minseok/jongin (3/3)
Kyungsoo doesn’t mind an extra person working on the piece, as long as the price they had originally settled on doesn’t change. He likes the design, and runs it by his boss, who also approves. Since the store is in use during the day, they work out a schedule where Minseok and Jongin will come in on Friday and Saturdays to work on the wall after hours. Kyungsoo will wait for them, and then set the keypad door lock so they can leave but the door is locked from the outside.
“Technically I should stay to supervise you,” Kyungsoo explains. “But I don’t particularly want to spend hours sitting around doing nothing and breathing in paint fumes. I will, however, tell you that we recently got new security cameras installed and they capture just about every inch of the store.” He smiles, and Minseok feels somewhat terrified for his life.
The first day Minseok and Jongin work in priming the wall with a neon green basic interior paint. Minseok had even gotten Kyungsoo to grudgingly cop the price after he pointed that the saturated color would help to brighten that entire inside of the store. It’s boring and rather mindless work; seemingly endless masking tape and drop sheet prep followed by literally sitting around watching paint dry.
Jongin is wearing a sleeveless shirt to work in despite the cool autumn night outside, and Minseok’s eyes keep wandering over to his arms. Jongin isn’t a weightlifter by any means, but his arms are still nicely toned. Jongin catches him staring, once, and Minseok laughs and plays it off like he had just been spacing out. When Jongin laughs along, Minseok heaves a mental sigh of relief.
Ever since his conversation with Lu Han, Minseok feels hyperaware of Jongin. Whenever they’re together he notices every little thing Jongin does, analyzes every detail of their interactions. Was Jongin always this touchy? Minseok wonders as Jongin lands a bright green handprint right on Minseok’s arm. Minseok raises an eyebrow while Jongin proceeds to giggle hysterically.
“Watch it, punk,” Minseok says. He raises the roller brush in his hand threateningly and Jongin dodges away, still laughing. No, Minseok is sure, Jongin wasn’t always like this. The first time Minseok tried to sling an arm around Jongin’s shoulder while they were walking Jongin had dodged away. Minseok hadn’t thought much of it at the time - he had only done it out of habit, because his friends are particularly touchy. But now Jongin practically hangs off of Minseok whenever they’re together. Is all of that simply because they’ve spent a lot of time together and have a closer friendship now, Minseok wonders. That’s the explanation he would have given before, but now he’s not quite so sure.
The problem is that Lu Han had been right when he suggested that Jongin was Minseok’s type. Jongin is, actually, exactly Minseok’s type. Minseok has been aware of that since the first time he spoke with Jongin and was able to clearly see him. As far as Minseok is concerned, Jongin’s face was probably carved by the gods. He’s got the perfect jawline, the perfect nose, the perfect lips. He’s also tall, and looks really good in those snapback hats he always wears. And, apparently, sleeveless shirts as well.
Minseok thought he’d been doing a good job of keeping his physical attraction to Jongin separate from their friendship. More correctly, he’s been refusing to acknowledge it out of fear of making things with Jongin weird. Now that he’s started thinking about it, though, Minseok isn’t sure that he’s been doing as good of a job as he’d thought... especially because he has a feeling that somewhere along the way physical attraction may have developed into emotional attraction as well.
“What are you thinking about?” Jongin asks, making Minseok startle and almost drop his paintbrush. “You’ve been kind of spacey today.”
“Nothing,” Minseok says. His mind races for an excuse. “I’m just worried about this piece. I’m still not satisfied with the design.” Well, it’s true at least. It isn’t actually the reason he’s been out of it. Jongin doesn’t need to know that, though.
“Don’t worry,” Jongin replies. “It’s you painting it, so it will be fine.”
“You’re just biased, Mr. ‘I’m your fan,’” Minseok says with a laugh. He puts the roller brush down in the tray and backs up to look at the wall. They’re probably just about done for the night. Minseok turns to look, expecting Jongin to be laughing along sheepishly, but finds Jongin is staring at him seriously.
“No, that’s not what it is.” Jongin worries his lip between his teeth while he thinks of what to say next. The store seems too quiet even with the playlist from Jongin’s phone playing through the speakers Minseok had brought along. Minseok can hear the blood pounding in his ears. “I mean,” Jongin continues, “it was like that at first. And I still really admire your work. But the reason I believe this will turn out well isn’t because Xiumin is making it, but because I know that Minseok hyung, my friend, will put his everything into this piece. Because I know you, and I know that you won’t settle for giving someone anything other than your best.”
Minseok feels rooted to the spot, staring at Jongin. “Oh,” he manages to say. He must look pretty dumbfounded, because Jongin laughs.
“Minseok hyung fighting!” Jongin says, complete with a fist pump.
“Wow, no pressure, huh?” Minseok asks. Then, more quietly, he adds, “Thank you.”
Jongin grins at him. Minseok’s heartbeat thunders even louder.
--
The next day Minseok starts laying down the barest sketch of outlines. Mostly he’s trying to work out spacing and proportions, to make sure that he can fit everything into the space he has to work with. One he’s satisfied he climbs down off his step ladder and starts working on the bottom portion of the piece. It’s little more than a rough sketch, and he’ll polish it up later, but he wants to get the general idea in place so that Jongin will have something to work off of.
When Minseok finishes filling in the design Jongin moves in to take all sorts of measurements, trying to figure out just how much space he needs to cover and how many stencil “frames” he needs to create. Minseok stands back, out of they way, except when Jongin needs him to help hold an end of the measuring tape.
Jongin pays attention to even the smallest details, carefully noting down each measurement before moving on to the next. He’s so focused, even though it’s just a relatively small task, and something in Minseok’s stomach flutters as he watches. Jongin’s got his concentration face on, the one he usually reserves for his school projects. The fact that he’s putting that much effort into Minseok’s project - their project - makes Minseok’s chest feel tight with pleasure.
After he finishes his measurements, Jongin technically doesn’t have any reason to hang around, since he can’t paint his part of the piece until he’s finished making his stencils. Jongin doesn’t leave, though. Instead, he pulls his laptop and some paper from his backpack. For the next two hours while Minseok lays down base colors on the wall, Jongin sits near the front of the shop where the door is propped open to help bring in fresh air, reviewing his old dance animations and sketching ideas for stencils.
About an hour later Minseok’s hand starts cramping and he decides to take a break. He ditches his respirator mask and heads to the doorway, where Jongin is hard at work. Jongin doesn’t seem to notice Minseok approaching, but he looks up and pulls his headphones off when Minseok sits down across from him.
“You don’t have to hang around for me, it’s pretty late,” Minseok says as he settles down. The draft coming in through the open door is cold, but it feels refreshing against Minseok’s slightly sweaty skin. Jongin, in contrast, is bundled up in a down jacket. Jongin somehow seems small, huddling in his jacket and bent over his work. Minseok feels guilty for keeping him here, even if Jongin’s only around because of his own sense of loyalty.
“It’s fine, I’m more of a night owl anyway,” Jongin insists with a slight smile. “Besides, if I’m not here who will guard the door to keep people from coming in and stealing CDs? Wouldn’t want that scary manager to kill you.”
Minseok snorts. “Kyungsoo isn’t that scary,” he says. “And I don’t think he would actually kill me. Probably.”
Jongin gives him a disbelieving look, which makes Minseok laugh again. They lapse into a comfortable silence, and Jongin goes back to his sketch. Minseok turns his face towards the door and closes his eyes, relishing the breeze until he has cooled down enough for goosebumps to form along his arms.
“Don’t your friends mind that you’re doing a commission?” Minseok asks as he opens his eyes. Jongin hand stops moving across the paper, and he looks up at Minseok.
“My friends?” Jongin asks slowly. “You mean Young Blood?” Minseok had actually mostly meant Sehun, but he nods anyway. Jongin gives a half-shrug and returns to his work.
“They don’t really care, I guess,” he says after a second. “I mean, Young Blood isn’t exactly around anymore, so...”
“What?” Minseok exclaims. Things have been quiet lately, but he never really suspected it was because Young Blood had disbanded. “The crew broke up?”
“Not exactly?” Jongin tilts his head to the side and frowns at his sketch. “I mean, they split up into two groups. Like after you found their art, they weren’t secret anymore, and I think that really shook them up. No one really told me about it, but I think they had a pretty big fight. They threw up a new piece, or at least some of them did, and actually signed it. I think they were trying to apologize? Anyway, it was completely buried by everyone they pissed off within a day or two.”
Minseok knows about that at least; he’d heard of it through the group chat. Chanyeol, Hyoyeon, and Jongdae had all gotten in on the action, each leaving their own figurative “fuck you” on the piece.
Jongin pauses. He lifts his pencil from the paper, and moves to put the end of it in his mouth before catching himself and looking up at Minseok instead. “I don’t know much about the others, but the group Sehun split off into changed their name. They’ve put something up, and signed it, and they aren’t going to go after other artists anymore. Or, at least, that’s what Sehun said.”
Minseok feels a bit like he’s been blindsided. He tries to reconcile what Jongin just said with his memories of Sehun slashing Minseok’s work, calling Minseok a sell out, trying to wipe Minseok’s art out of existence. “Sehun said that?”
“Yeah, he was actually one of the ones who started the fight, apparently.” Jongin’s gaze on Minseok is searching, and Minseok briefly wonders what he’s looking for. “It’s funny, because he’s had this huge crush on one of the girls in the crew, and she was really into the tagging, but he apparently went right up to her and said he thought they should stop.”
Minseok feels like his brain is in overdrive trying to process all the new information. As a result he spends a few moments staring wordlessly at Jongin. Finally he says, “I never really expected the group to split. I wanted them to stop what they were doing, sure, but not break up.” Minseok had been looking for revenge, and now that he’s gotten it he feels kind of shitty. The irony of the situation has him letting out a wry laugh. “I kind of feel like I indirectly stole candy from a bunch of kids.”
“No way,” Jongin immediately protests. “We’re not kids, and they all knew exactly what they were doing. They deserved the consequences they had to face.” Jongin leans forward slightly, eyes still locked with Minseok’s. “I think they realize that part, too. You know, just the other day Sehun texted me, and he said that I was right and he shouldn’t have disrespected your work. He made his own choices, and now he’s learning from them. Don’t you dare feel guilty for that.”
The hand Jongin’s holding his pencil in has closed into a fist, and Minseok wonders if Jongin even knows that he is practically yelling by the time he finishes his short speech. Minseok doesn’t think he has ever even heard Jongin raise his voice before. That he would do so for Minseok’s sake makes Minseok feel- well, he’s not really sure how he feels exactly, but his stomach is trying to do some sort of acrobatics, like it’s halfway between anxiety and anticipation.
“So you don’t have to worry about being a dirty sell out?” Minseok asks with a weak smile. It’s a pathetic attempt at changing the subject away from himself, and he knows it. Jongin must know it too, because he smiles. The tension seems to drain out of him, and he retreats back out of Minseok’s space.
“Nah, I’m good,” Jongin says. “Sehun asked me if I wanted to join the new crew with him, but I said no. Being in a crew was kind of fun, but I really don’t want to get involved in any more drama.”
Minseok nods; he knows the feeling. “Good, I wouldn’t want some kids breaking in here to tag over our piece. For their own sake, mostly. They probably wouldn’t even know what hit them if Kyungsoo ever caught up with them.”
Minseok and Jongin both fall silent for a second at the thought of the immaculately dressed store manager beating up a bunch of graffiti artist punks. Then Jongin snorts out a laugh, before practically doubling over with laughter. Minseok is pretty sure that what he said wasn’t actually that funny, but somehow he finds himself laughing uncontrollably too. Jongin reaches over to smack Minseok in the arm while he laughs, and Minseok counters by rolling away. Minseok ends up lying on his back on the concrete floor, and Jongin joins him. They laugh until they can barely breathe, and then lie there gasping for breath.
Jongin sits up first, and when Minseok props himself up on his elbows he finds Jongin staring at him. “I’ll be sure to warn Sehun away from here,” Jongin says solemnly. There are still traces of tears in his eyes from the laughter, but he says it so seriously that Minseok bursts into laughter again. Jongin shortly follows suit, a grin stretching across his face and his nose wrinkling. He’s completely gorgeous, Minseok realizes with a lurch, and suddenly Minseok is breathless for an entirely different reason.
Well, damn.
--
Minseok can’t focus. Normally art is something that helps him clear his head - the more detailed the piece the better - but today even the intricate swirls he’s outlining can’t help him. He’s been on edge all week, particularly whenever he’s around Jongin. Which is often, since they’re still meeting almost every day. Minseok keeps spacing out and catching himself staring at Jongin. More often than not, Jongin catches him staring. Minseok is pretty good at playing it off, but he realizes that there’s a limit to how many times he can claim coincidence.
Jongin hasn’t mentioned it outside of gently teasing Minseok for the way he keeps spacing out, but Minseok can tell that he’s curious. Jongin is waiting for Minseok to talk first, but Minseok doesn’t know how to bring the topic up without making things awkward between them. How exactly does one explain to their friend that they not only find them attractive but have apparently been suppressing a full on crush on them? Since Lu Han got Minseok thinking, Minseok hasn’t been able to stop thinking. And the more he mulls it over, the more Minseok realizes that he really does like Jongin. He had just hidden it so thoroughly under layers of denial that he needed some help realizing it.
It’s not just the way Jongin is so meticulous with his work, putting his all into even the smallest tasks. It’s also Jongin’s love for art, and the way he comes alive whenever he talks about it - or anything he’s passionate about, for that matter. It’s the comfortable silences at the table while they study, the small text messages of encouragement, the way Jongin’s nose crinkles when he laughs. It’s the way Jongin bites his lip when he’s thinking...
Minseok curses loudly when the line he’s trying to draw comes out wobbly instead of smooth. He leans backwards to survey the line from another angle, to see if it might look okay from a distance. Nope, definitely wobbly. Heaving a sigh, Minseok leans back in to trace over the line again and stabilize it. He can feel Jongin’s eyes on his back while he works, and it makes him jittery in a way that is not helping his attempts to smooth over his mistake.
It’s the first day of their second week working on the piece, and Jongin had finished his part of it within what seemed like minutes. That’s the benefit, Minseok supposes, of working with stencils. After you do your hours of drudgework at home, the actual painting takes minimal effort to throw up. Jongin had taken up his post by the door again after he finished, staying to work on homework regardless of Minseok’s urges to go home.
Minseok fixes the line and moves to start on another. Or at least that is his plan, until somehow he overbalances on the stepladder and just barely manages to save himself from doing a face plant into the floor. Jongin is at his side in an instant. He helps Minseok disentangle himself from the ladder and then watches as Minseok pulls off his mask to call the ladder, and his own clumsy feet, some choice words.
“Maybe you should take a break,” Jongin suggests after Minseok has calmed down a bit. “It’s almost three in the morning. If nothing else you should probably have an energy drink or something.”
“Coffee,” Minseok says plaintively as he allows himself to be led towards the door. He sounds pathetic even to his own ears.
Jongin laughs and wraps an arm around Minseok’s shoulders. When they reach the door Jongin fishes an energy drink and a canned coffee out of his backpack, and then they head outside. “For some fresh air,” Jongin says as he carefully puts a textbook in the entryway to keep the door from closing and locking them out.
Minseok settles down on the front step and leans back against the doorjamb as he pops open his coffee. It’s the same brand Jongin had left on Minseok’s table well over two months before, he notices. Minseok takes a sip and closes his eyes. There’s no one about on the street the shop is on, but Minseok can hear people out on the main street it connects to. Seoul never sleeps, after all, especially not on weekends.
“You’ve been really out of it lately,” Jongin says hesitantly after a minute. “Is something wrong?”
Minseok’s eyes open and slide over to Jongin. The energy drink is still unopened in Jongin’s hands, and he’s staring at it rather than looking at Minseok. Jongin looks so concerned that Minseok immediately feels bad for making him worry.
“I’m that obvious, huh?” Minseok asks, forcing a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
There’s an unspoken question hovering in the air, an invitation to discussion. It would be the perfect opportunity for Minseok to explain, to bring up everything he’s been obsessively thinking about since his conversation with Lu Han.
But Minseok is scared. He tries to force himself to talk, but the words all stick in his throat. He’s scared that he’s wrong, that he’s been misinterpreting Jongin’s actions, that he’s been reading too much into things. That Lu Han was wrong, and that Jongin really does just think of Minseok as a friend, a hyung he admires. Minseok is scared, so he takes the coward’s way out.
“What do you think of me?” Minseok asks. Jongin looks up now, surprised by the change in topic.
“What do I think about you?” he repeats, mostly to himself. Jongin pauses and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth while he thinks. Eventually, after a silence that feels almost suffocating, he says, “I think that you’re a great guy and a wonderful artist. Your work is breathtaking, honestly.”
Minseok can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips - it still feels good to hear Jongin compliment his work - but he shakes his head slightly. “No, what do you think about me, not my art.”
Jongin blinks at Minseok, like he’s been caught off-guard. He takes even longer to answer this time and keeps his eyes on the ground when he finally speaks. “I think that you’re… different,” he says tentatively. “I mean, not in a bad way? Just, the circumstances we met under kind of sucked, and you could have hated me, but...” Jongin trails off and makes a vague gesture at their current spot on the doorstep. “Here we are.”
Jongin takes a shaky breath, like he’s steeling himself for something, then lifts his head and looks Minseok straight in the eye. “And,” he repeats, “I think you’re really hot.”
Minseok feels like he’s been frozen in time. He would think that maybe he heard Jongin wrong, except he’s certain he didn’t. Minseok half expects Jongin to take it back and say he was just joking - except he doesn’t. Jongin holds Minseok’s gaze steadily, even as he clasps his hands around his drink to keep them from shaking. Jongin is serious, and Minseok knows that he should say something, but his brain can’t seem to work fast enough. The silence seems to stretch on forever while Minseok scrambles for words.
“I-” Minseok starts, then stops. He swallows. It would be best to say something meaningful, Minseok knows, but instead what comes out when he opens his mouth again is, “I think you’re really hot too?”
Even if it’s not what he intended to say, the effect is immediate. Relief washes over Jongin’s face - Minseok realizes with a start that Jongin had probably been terrified - and then he breaks down into laughter. Minseok blinks, and blinks again, as Jongin doubles over.
“Your face,” Jongin gasps. “Oh my God.” He manages to pull himself upright, practically wheezing from laughter. “I was so scared,” Jongin says. “I mean, I was pretty sure I’d been reading you correctly, but what if I hadn’t, you know? But then, your face-” Jongin breaks into giggles again, and Minseok reaches over to punch him indignantly.
“I take it back,” Minseok says with as much dignity as he can manage. “You’re not hot, you’re a brat.”
Jongin doesn’t reply, just grabs Minseok’s hand Minseok used to hit him and laces their fingers together. It’s chilly outside and Jongin’s fingers are cold in Minseok’s own, but Minseok is filled with warmth. The shock has worn off now and Minseok feels every bit as relieved as Jongin had looked. It’s like some kind of floodgates inside of him have opened, and a giddy feeling bubbles through Minseok until he’s laughing along with Jongin. Jongin leans in until their shoulders are touching, linked hands between them. They stay that way, even after their laughter lulls, until the cold sets in and Jongin shivers.
“Let’s go back inside,” Minseok suggests as Jongin huddles closer to Minseok’s side. “I just have a little more I want to finish up, and then we can head out.” Jongin nods and they haul themselves upright, grab their forgotten drinks, and head back into the store. Jongin settles back down with his homework while Minseok walks back to the painting.
Finding himself face-to-face with the piece once more, Minseok’s previous elation starts to fade. He’s still unhappy with the design, and none of the small changes he’s made have seemed to help it. Minseok sighs, picking up the can he’d been using before Jongin pulled him outside. Before climbing back onto the ladder Minseok glances back over his shoulder, and finds Jongin watching him. Jongin smiles, almost shyly, when their eyes meet. Minseok grins back. He might not be able to fix this painting, Minseok acquiesces as he steps onto the ladder. But this thing he’s got with Jongin? Minseok is pretty sure that’s something they can make work.
--
It’s close to 4 a.m. when they finally move the drop sheets and stepladder out of the way and leave with Minseok’s bag of spray paint cans slung over his shoulder. Jongin checks his phone as they walk towards Sinchon station, then swears under his breath when he pulls up the bus times.
“Night buses already stopped running,” Jongin explains when Minseok gives him a curious look. “I was hoping that they ran later, damn. I guess I’ll just wait around for the subway to start running.”
Minseok stares at Jongin in shock. “But that won’t be for at least another hour,” he says with disbelief. Jongin nods glumly, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He seems resigned to waiting with all the stranded revelers who had missed the last train home the night before. Maybe Minseok is spoiled by having an apartment nearby, but the thought of having to wait around like that appalls him. “Do you want to come over to my place?” he blurts out. Jongin’s eyes are immediately on him, wider than Minseok thinks he’s ever seen them before.
“That’s not what I meant,” Minseok says with a laugh when he realizes why Jongin looks so startled. “Not like- I mean we can just stop by the convenience store and get some snacks and watch a movie or something until the subways are running, or you can just crash there and save yourself the trip altogether? If you want.”
Jongin hesitates, then nods. “That would actually be great,” he says with a relieved grin.
There are convenience stores on almost every corner, but they end up stopping by the one just across the street from Minseok’s apartment complex. They pick up a package of cookies, coffee milk, and a bag of chips, and then they make their way over to Minseok’s building and head up the three flights of stairs to his room.
Minseok’s one room apartment is pretty small, as is his bed, but somehow Minseok and Jongin both manage to fit onto the mattress and set up Minseok’s laptop at the end. Minseok puts on some superhero movie Chanyeol let him borrow and then flops down along the length of the bed on his stomach. Jongin squeezes in so that he can tuck up his legs and lean back against the wall.
By the time they get situated and start the movie it’s pushing 4:30 a.m. and Minseok’s eyelids feel heavy. The caffeine from coffee he had earlier wore off ages ago. He makes it through about twenty minutes of the movie before he feels himself starting to nod off.
“Falling asleep already?” Jongin jokes. He pokes Minseok in the side, and Minseok groans.
“Unlike someone I didn’t spend my night ingesting energy drinks,” Minseok mumbles into the pillow he has propped up under his arms.
“Or maybe someone is just old,” Jongin says, poking Minseok again.
“Hey, watch it punk,” Minseok says. He reaches one arm out behind himself and blindly punches in Jongin’s general direction. Jongin laughs and catches hold of Minseok’s arm. A small scuffle ensues that soon turns into a full scale tug of war that ends with Minseok flipping over onto his back and accidentally pulling Jongin halfway on top of him. When Minseok looks up he finds Jongin hovering over him, hands braced on either side of Minseok’s head. Anything Minseok might have been planning to say dies on his lips, and the movie fades into background noise. Minseok doesn’t think he could pull his eyes away from Jongin’s even if he wanted to try.
“I meant it when I said I think you’re really hot,” Jongin suddenly says. He’s staring down at Minseok, so completely serious that Minseok can’t help but smile.
“I’m gonna be honest,” Minseok says with a breathless laugh, “that was the exact last thing I was expecting you to say.”
Jongin immediately flushes and pulls back until he’s sitting upright again. Minseok immediately worries that he’s said something wrong. He’s about to apologize when Jongin says, “Lu Han told me I should say it.”
“What?” Minseok exclaims. He bolts upright, lifting himself up on one elbow so that he can gape at Jongin. Once the immediate surprise wears off, though, he sinks back down onto the bed with a groan. Because of course Lu Han would be involved somehow. Of course.
“I mean,” Jongin quickly cuts in, “I always thought that? I never really considered telling you, though. But then when I was talking to Lu Han, after he totally unsubtly tried to make sure I was gay, he basically told me that you liked me but would never make the first move.” Jongin is still blushing, and Minseok is sure his face is the same color. However, more than being embarrassed, Minseok is mostly ashamed because Lu Han had been absolutely correct about him.
“He told me to make the first move, and I thought he was playing a joke on me.” Jongin’s voice is quiet now. Minseok’s heart clenches. He knows what that feels like, to worry that you might get your hopes up just to find out that you’re the butt of someone else’s joke. Minseok knows that Lu Han would never do that, but there was no way Jongin could have known.
“He was just being a nosy asshole,” Minseok says. “Sorry about that.”
Jongin shrugs, then smiles. “Turns out that he gave me good advice, though.”
Minseok snorts. “True,” he admits grudgingly. Jongin laughs, and he’s so gorgeous and so close and Minseok’s heart is racing in his chest. “Let’s stop talking about Lu Han now,” Minseok says, then reaches up and pulls Jongin down.
Jongin lets out a surprised oof when he lands on Minseok, but eagerly responds when Minseok kisses him. Jongin shifts to brace his arms against the bed, in order to both take some weight off of Minseok and to adjust the angle of the kiss. He parts his lips against Minseok’s, and Minseok reaches up so that he can wrap one arm around Jongin’s shoulders, burying his other hand in Jongin’s hair. Jongin’s response is immediate, a low moan that catches in his throat. Pleased, Minseok tugs lightly in order to bring Jongin, if possible, even closer.
They kiss open-mouthed and languid, almost lazy. Somewhere behind them on the movie buildings explode and sirens blare, but neither of them hear it. Jongin runs his teeth lightly over Minseok’s bottom lip, and Minseok shivers as they pull apart. Minseok opens his eyes Jongin is right there above him, looking back. Jongin’s lips are red and slick, and his hair is messy from Minseok’s fingers. Seeing Jongin up close, like this, Minseok feels almost overwhelmed.
“If this is the way all your visits are going to go, you’re welcome to come over anytime,” Minseok says breathlessly. Jongin smiles and leans in for another kiss.
--
Minseok hates the piece in the record shop.
“Only your part of it came out well,” he whines to Jongin when they stop by the store. It’s been a week since they finished the piece, and Minseok had insisted on coming by on their way back to Minseok’s apartment from meeting Lu Han in Hongdae, so that he could see if a bit of time and separation had changed his opinion about his work.
It hadn’t.
“I still think it looks good,” Jongin replies. He wraps a casual arm around Minseok’s shoulder, and Minseok leans into the touch.
“Biased,” Minseok accuses, even as he fights back a smile. Around them several customers browse the rows of CD and record cases. It’s surprisingly lively, enough that Kyungsoo, who had greeted them when they came in, is being kept busy. At least Kyungsoo, as well as his boss, liked the piece. Technically that’s all that really matters even though, as the artist, Minseok finds that hard to accept.
“Absolutely,” Jongin agrees shamelessly. “The most biased.” He’s got a goofy grin on that makes Minseok laughs and elbow him lightly. Minseok is pleased, though, and he knows that Jongin can tell.
“Come on,” Minseok says after another minute of scrutiny, and slides out from under Jongin’s arm. “Let’s get out of here. I might puke if I have to look at this any longer.”
Jongin snorts a laugh and follows Minseok towards the entrance. They wave goodbye to Kyungsoo before heading out onto the street and starting off again in the Sinchon direction. They could have easily caught a bus back from Hongdae to start with, but Minseok prefers to walk whenever possible. This has been a point of contention with many of his friends over the years, but Jongin doesn’t seem to mind.
Once they reach a main road Jongin places a hand lightly on Minseok’s arm. “It really does look good,” Jongin says softly. When Minseok turns to look at him Jongin isn’t smiling or laughing, just serious in the way he gets whenever he’s worried about something. “It may not be your favorite, but that doesn’t make it bad. Besides,” now he does smile, a small, shy smile reminiscent of the very first time they had talked, “we can do better next time.”
Next time. Warmth floods through Minseok and he stops walking so abruptly that Jongin almost trips trying to stop with him. Jongin throws Minseok a curious look, inquiring. Minseok isn’t sure how to explain the emotions making him feel lightheaded with happiness, so he settles for saying, “Sure.” Jongin lights up in that way he does, so that he’s practically shining, and Minseok feels much the same. He’s smiling so hard it hurts. “That sounds great.”
A/N 2:
+ A huge thank you to C for being my brainstorming buddy, and to Willow for her unending patience while handholding, cheerleading, and betaing -- all despite not even being in exo fandom. You guys are seriously the best ♡
+ Street art, especially street art in Korea, is admittedly not my area of expertise, and despite my research I feel that this was still in many ways lacking. However! If anyone has anything they're curious about, please let me know in the comments!! I would love to discuss it with you ♡
“Technically I should stay to supervise you,” Kyungsoo explains. “But I don’t particularly want to spend hours sitting around doing nothing and breathing in paint fumes. I will, however, tell you that we recently got new security cameras installed and they capture just about every inch of the store.” He smiles, and Minseok feels somewhat terrified for his life.
The first day Minseok and Jongin work in priming the wall with a neon green basic interior paint. Minseok had even gotten Kyungsoo to grudgingly cop the price after he pointed that the saturated color would help to brighten that entire inside of the store. It’s boring and rather mindless work; seemingly endless masking tape and drop sheet prep followed by literally sitting around watching paint dry.
Jongin is wearing a sleeveless shirt to work in despite the cool autumn night outside, and Minseok’s eyes keep wandering over to his arms. Jongin isn’t a weightlifter by any means, but his arms are still nicely toned. Jongin catches him staring, once, and Minseok laughs and plays it off like he had just been spacing out. When Jongin laughs along, Minseok heaves a mental sigh of relief.
Ever since his conversation with Lu Han, Minseok feels hyperaware of Jongin. Whenever they’re together he notices every little thing Jongin does, analyzes every detail of their interactions. Was Jongin always this touchy? Minseok wonders as Jongin lands a bright green handprint right on Minseok’s arm. Minseok raises an eyebrow while Jongin proceeds to giggle hysterically.
“Watch it, punk,” Minseok says. He raises the roller brush in his hand threateningly and Jongin dodges away, still laughing. No, Minseok is sure, Jongin wasn’t always like this. The first time Minseok tried to sling an arm around Jongin’s shoulder while they were walking Jongin had dodged away. Minseok hadn’t thought much of it at the time - he had only done it out of habit, because his friends are particularly touchy. But now Jongin practically hangs off of Minseok whenever they’re together. Is all of that simply because they’ve spent a lot of time together and have a closer friendship now, Minseok wonders. That’s the explanation he would have given before, but now he’s not quite so sure.
The problem is that Lu Han had been right when he suggested that Jongin was Minseok’s type. Jongin is, actually, exactly Minseok’s type. Minseok has been aware of that since the first time he spoke with Jongin and was able to clearly see him. As far as Minseok is concerned, Jongin’s face was probably carved by the gods. He’s got the perfect jawline, the perfect nose, the perfect lips. He’s also tall, and looks really good in those snapback hats he always wears. And, apparently, sleeveless shirts as well.
Minseok thought he’d been doing a good job of keeping his physical attraction to Jongin separate from their friendship. More correctly, he’s been refusing to acknowledge it out of fear of making things with Jongin weird. Now that he’s started thinking about it, though, Minseok isn’t sure that he’s been doing as good of a job as he’d thought... especially because he has a feeling that somewhere along the way physical attraction may have developed into emotional attraction as well.
“What are you thinking about?” Jongin asks, making Minseok startle and almost drop his paintbrush. “You’ve been kind of spacey today.”
“Nothing,” Minseok says. His mind races for an excuse. “I’m just worried about this piece. I’m still not satisfied with the design.” Well, it’s true at least. It isn’t actually the reason he’s been out of it. Jongin doesn’t need to know that, though.
“Don’t worry,” Jongin replies. “It’s you painting it, so it will be fine.”
“You’re just biased, Mr. ‘I’m your fan,’” Minseok says with a laugh. He puts the roller brush down in the tray and backs up to look at the wall. They’re probably just about done for the night. Minseok turns to look, expecting Jongin to be laughing along sheepishly, but finds Jongin is staring at him seriously.
“No, that’s not what it is.” Jongin worries his lip between his teeth while he thinks of what to say next. The store seems too quiet even with the playlist from Jongin’s phone playing through the speakers Minseok had brought along. Minseok can hear the blood pounding in his ears. “I mean,” Jongin continues, “it was like that at first. And I still really admire your work. But the reason I believe this will turn out well isn’t because Xiumin is making it, but because I know that Minseok hyung, my friend, will put his everything into this piece. Because I know you, and I know that you won’t settle for giving someone anything other than your best.”
Minseok feels rooted to the spot, staring at Jongin. “Oh,” he manages to say. He must look pretty dumbfounded, because Jongin laughs.
“Minseok hyung fighting!” Jongin says, complete with a fist pump.
“Wow, no pressure, huh?” Minseok asks. Then, more quietly, he adds, “Thank you.”
Jongin grins at him. Minseok’s heartbeat thunders even louder.
--
The next day Minseok starts laying down the barest sketch of outlines. Mostly he’s trying to work out spacing and proportions, to make sure that he can fit everything into the space he has to work with. One he’s satisfied he climbs down off his step ladder and starts working on the bottom portion of the piece. It’s little more than a rough sketch, and he’ll polish it up later, but he wants to get the general idea in place so that Jongin will have something to work off of.
When Minseok finishes filling in the design Jongin moves in to take all sorts of measurements, trying to figure out just how much space he needs to cover and how many stencil “frames” he needs to create. Minseok stands back, out of they way, except when Jongin needs him to help hold an end of the measuring tape.
Jongin pays attention to even the smallest details, carefully noting down each measurement before moving on to the next. He’s so focused, even though it’s just a relatively small task, and something in Minseok’s stomach flutters as he watches. Jongin’s got his concentration face on, the one he usually reserves for his school projects. The fact that he’s putting that much effort into Minseok’s project - their project - makes Minseok’s chest feel tight with pleasure.
After he finishes his measurements, Jongin technically doesn’t have any reason to hang around, since he can’t paint his part of the piece until he’s finished making his stencils. Jongin doesn’t leave, though. Instead, he pulls his laptop and some paper from his backpack. For the next two hours while Minseok lays down base colors on the wall, Jongin sits near the front of the shop where the door is propped open to help bring in fresh air, reviewing his old dance animations and sketching ideas for stencils.
About an hour later Minseok’s hand starts cramping and he decides to take a break. He ditches his respirator mask and heads to the doorway, where Jongin is hard at work. Jongin doesn’t seem to notice Minseok approaching, but he looks up and pulls his headphones off when Minseok sits down across from him.
“You don’t have to hang around for me, it’s pretty late,” Minseok says as he settles down. The draft coming in through the open door is cold, but it feels refreshing against Minseok’s slightly sweaty skin. Jongin, in contrast, is bundled up in a down jacket. Jongin somehow seems small, huddling in his jacket and bent over his work. Minseok feels guilty for keeping him here, even if Jongin’s only around because of his own sense of loyalty.
“It’s fine, I’m more of a night owl anyway,” Jongin insists with a slight smile. “Besides, if I’m not here who will guard the door to keep people from coming in and stealing CDs? Wouldn’t want that scary manager to kill you.”
Minseok snorts. “Kyungsoo isn’t that scary,” he says. “And I don’t think he would actually kill me. Probably.”
Jongin gives him a disbelieving look, which makes Minseok laugh again. They lapse into a comfortable silence, and Jongin goes back to his sketch. Minseok turns his face towards the door and closes his eyes, relishing the breeze until he has cooled down enough for goosebumps to form along his arms.
“Don’t your friends mind that you’re doing a commission?” Minseok asks as he opens his eyes. Jongin hand stops moving across the paper, and he looks up at Minseok.
“My friends?” Jongin asks slowly. “You mean Young Blood?” Minseok had actually mostly meant Sehun, but he nods anyway. Jongin gives a half-shrug and returns to his work.
“They don’t really care, I guess,” he says after a second. “I mean, Young Blood isn’t exactly around anymore, so...”
“What?” Minseok exclaims. Things have been quiet lately, but he never really suspected it was because Young Blood had disbanded. “The crew broke up?”
“Not exactly?” Jongin tilts his head to the side and frowns at his sketch. “I mean, they split up into two groups. Like after you found their art, they weren’t secret anymore, and I think that really shook them up. No one really told me about it, but I think they had a pretty big fight. They threw up a new piece, or at least some of them did, and actually signed it. I think they were trying to apologize? Anyway, it was completely buried by everyone they pissed off within a day or two.”
Minseok knows about that at least; he’d heard of it through the group chat. Chanyeol, Hyoyeon, and Jongdae had all gotten in on the action, each leaving their own figurative “fuck you” on the piece.
Jongin pauses. He lifts his pencil from the paper, and moves to put the end of it in his mouth before catching himself and looking up at Minseok instead. “I don’t know much about the others, but the group Sehun split off into changed their name. They’ve put something up, and signed it, and they aren’t going to go after other artists anymore. Or, at least, that’s what Sehun said.”
Minseok feels a bit like he’s been blindsided. He tries to reconcile what Jongin just said with his memories of Sehun slashing Minseok’s work, calling Minseok a sell out, trying to wipe Minseok’s art out of existence. “Sehun said that?”
“Yeah, he was actually one of the ones who started the fight, apparently.” Jongin’s gaze on Minseok is searching, and Minseok briefly wonders what he’s looking for. “It’s funny, because he’s had this huge crush on one of the girls in the crew, and she was really into the tagging, but he apparently went right up to her and said he thought they should stop.”
Minseok feels like his brain is in overdrive trying to process all the new information. As a result he spends a few moments staring wordlessly at Jongin. Finally he says, “I never really expected the group to split. I wanted them to stop what they were doing, sure, but not break up.” Minseok had been looking for revenge, and now that he’s gotten it he feels kind of shitty. The irony of the situation has him letting out a wry laugh. “I kind of feel like I indirectly stole candy from a bunch of kids.”
“No way,” Jongin immediately protests. “We’re not kids, and they all knew exactly what they were doing. They deserved the consequences they had to face.” Jongin leans forward slightly, eyes still locked with Minseok’s. “I think they realize that part, too. You know, just the other day Sehun texted me, and he said that I was right and he shouldn’t have disrespected your work. He made his own choices, and now he’s learning from them. Don’t you dare feel guilty for that.”
The hand Jongin’s holding his pencil in has closed into a fist, and Minseok wonders if Jongin even knows that he is practically yelling by the time he finishes his short speech. Minseok doesn’t think he has ever even heard Jongin raise his voice before. That he would do so for Minseok’s sake makes Minseok feel- well, he’s not really sure how he feels exactly, but his stomach is trying to do some sort of acrobatics, like it’s halfway between anxiety and anticipation.
“So you don’t have to worry about being a dirty sell out?” Minseok asks with a weak smile. It’s a pathetic attempt at changing the subject away from himself, and he knows it. Jongin must know it too, because he smiles. The tension seems to drain out of him, and he retreats back out of Minseok’s space.
“Nah, I’m good,” Jongin says. “Sehun asked me if I wanted to join the new crew with him, but I said no. Being in a crew was kind of fun, but I really don’t want to get involved in any more drama.”
Minseok nods; he knows the feeling. “Good, I wouldn’t want some kids breaking in here to tag over our piece. For their own sake, mostly. They probably wouldn’t even know what hit them if Kyungsoo ever caught up with them.”
Minseok and Jongin both fall silent for a second at the thought of the immaculately dressed store manager beating up a bunch of graffiti artist punks. Then Jongin snorts out a laugh, before practically doubling over with laughter. Minseok is pretty sure that what he said wasn’t actually that funny, but somehow he finds himself laughing uncontrollably too. Jongin reaches over to smack Minseok in the arm while he laughs, and Minseok counters by rolling away. Minseok ends up lying on his back on the concrete floor, and Jongin joins him. They laugh until they can barely breathe, and then lie there gasping for breath.
Jongin sits up first, and when Minseok props himself up on his elbows he finds Jongin staring at him. “I’ll be sure to warn Sehun away from here,” Jongin says solemnly. There are still traces of tears in his eyes from the laughter, but he says it so seriously that Minseok bursts into laughter again. Jongin shortly follows suit, a grin stretching across his face and his nose wrinkling. He’s completely gorgeous, Minseok realizes with a lurch, and suddenly Minseok is breathless for an entirely different reason.
Well, damn.
--
Minseok can’t focus. Normally art is something that helps him clear his head - the more detailed the piece the better - but today even the intricate swirls he’s outlining can’t help him. He’s been on edge all week, particularly whenever he’s around Jongin. Which is often, since they’re still meeting almost every day. Minseok keeps spacing out and catching himself staring at Jongin. More often than not, Jongin catches him staring. Minseok is pretty good at playing it off, but he realizes that there’s a limit to how many times he can claim coincidence.
Jongin hasn’t mentioned it outside of gently teasing Minseok for the way he keeps spacing out, but Minseok can tell that he’s curious. Jongin is waiting for Minseok to talk first, but Minseok doesn’t know how to bring the topic up without making things awkward between them. How exactly does one explain to their friend that they not only find them attractive but have apparently been suppressing a full on crush on them? Since Lu Han got Minseok thinking, Minseok hasn’t been able to stop thinking. And the more he mulls it over, the more Minseok realizes that he really does like Jongin. He had just hidden it so thoroughly under layers of denial that he needed some help realizing it.
It’s not just the way Jongin is so meticulous with his work, putting his all into even the smallest tasks. It’s also Jongin’s love for art, and the way he comes alive whenever he talks about it - or anything he’s passionate about, for that matter. It’s the comfortable silences at the table while they study, the small text messages of encouragement, the way Jongin’s nose crinkles when he laughs. It’s the way Jongin bites his lip when he’s thinking...
Minseok curses loudly when the line he’s trying to draw comes out wobbly instead of smooth. He leans backwards to survey the line from another angle, to see if it might look okay from a distance. Nope, definitely wobbly. Heaving a sigh, Minseok leans back in to trace over the line again and stabilize it. He can feel Jongin’s eyes on his back while he works, and it makes him jittery in a way that is not helping his attempts to smooth over his mistake.
It’s the first day of their second week working on the piece, and Jongin had finished his part of it within what seemed like minutes. That’s the benefit, Minseok supposes, of working with stencils. After you do your hours of drudgework at home, the actual painting takes minimal effort to throw up. Jongin had taken up his post by the door again after he finished, staying to work on homework regardless of Minseok’s urges to go home.
Minseok fixes the line and moves to start on another. Or at least that is his plan, until somehow he overbalances on the stepladder and just barely manages to save himself from doing a face plant into the floor. Jongin is at his side in an instant. He helps Minseok disentangle himself from the ladder and then watches as Minseok pulls off his mask to call the ladder, and his own clumsy feet, some choice words.
“Maybe you should take a break,” Jongin suggests after Minseok has calmed down a bit. “It’s almost three in the morning. If nothing else you should probably have an energy drink or something.”
“Coffee,” Minseok says plaintively as he allows himself to be led towards the door. He sounds pathetic even to his own ears.
Jongin laughs and wraps an arm around Minseok’s shoulders. When they reach the door Jongin fishes an energy drink and a canned coffee out of his backpack, and then they head outside. “For some fresh air,” Jongin says as he carefully puts a textbook in the entryway to keep the door from closing and locking them out.
Minseok settles down on the front step and leans back against the doorjamb as he pops open his coffee. It’s the same brand Jongin had left on Minseok’s table well over two months before, he notices. Minseok takes a sip and closes his eyes. There’s no one about on the street the shop is on, but Minseok can hear people out on the main street it connects to. Seoul never sleeps, after all, especially not on weekends.
“You’ve been really out of it lately,” Jongin says hesitantly after a minute. “Is something wrong?”
Minseok’s eyes open and slide over to Jongin. The energy drink is still unopened in Jongin’s hands, and he’s staring at it rather than looking at Minseok. Jongin looks so concerned that Minseok immediately feels bad for making him worry.
“I’m that obvious, huh?” Minseok asks, forcing a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
There’s an unspoken question hovering in the air, an invitation to discussion. It would be the perfect opportunity for Minseok to explain, to bring up everything he’s been obsessively thinking about since his conversation with Lu Han.
But Minseok is scared. He tries to force himself to talk, but the words all stick in his throat. He’s scared that he’s wrong, that he’s been misinterpreting Jongin’s actions, that he’s been reading too much into things. That Lu Han was wrong, and that Jongin really does just think of Minseok as a friend, a hyung he admires. Minseok is scared, so he takes the coward’s way out.
“What do you think of me?” Minseok asks. Jongin looks up now, surprised by the change in topic.
“What do I think about you?” he repeats, mostly to himself. Jongin pauses and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth while he thinks. Eventually, after a silence that feels almost suffocating, he says, “I think that you’re a great guy and a wonderful artist. Your work is breathtaking, honestly.”
Minseok can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips - it still feels good to hear Jongin compliment his work - but he shakes his head slightly. “No, what do you think about me, not my art.”
Jongin blinks at Minseok, like he’s been caught off-guard. He takes even longer to answer this time and keeps his eyes on the ground when he finally speaks. “I think that you’re… different,” he says tentatively. “I mean, not in a bad way? Just, the circumstances we met under kind of sucked, and you could have hated me, but...” Jongin trails off and makes a vague gesture at their current spot on the doorstep. “Here we are.”
Jongin takes a shaky breath, like he’s steeling himself for something, then lifts his head and looks Minseok straight in the eye. “And,” he repeats, “I think you’re really hot.”
Minseok feels like he’s been frozen in time. He would think that maybe he heard Jongin wrong, except he’s certain he didn’t. Minseok half expects Jongin to take it back and say he was just joking - except he doesn’t. Jongin holds Minseok’s gaze steadily, even as he clasps his hands around his drink to keep them from shaking. Jongin is serious, and Minseok knows that he should say something, but his brain can’t seem to work fast enough. The silence seems to stretch on forever while Minseok scrambles for words.
“I-” Minseok starts, then stops. He swallows. It would be best to say something meaningful, Minseok knows, but instead what comes out when he opens his mouth again is, “I think you’re really hot too?”
Even if it’s not what he intended to say, the effect is immediate. Relief washes over Jongin’s face - Minseok realizes with a start that Jongin had probably been terrified - and then he breaks down into laughter. Minseok blinks, and blinks again, as Jongin doubles over.
“Your face,” Jongin gasps. “Oh my God.” He manages to pull himself upright, practically wheezing from laughter. “I was so scared,” Jongin says. “I mean, I was pretty sure I’d been reading you correctly, but what if I hadn’t, you know? But then, your face-” Jongin breaks into giggles again, and Minseok reaches over to punch him indignantly.
“I take it back,” Minseok says with as much dignity as he can manage. “You’re not hot, you’re a brat.”
Jongin doesn’t reply, just grabs Minseok’s hand Minseok used to hit him and laces their fingers together. It’s chilly outside and Jongin’s fingers are cold in Minseok’s own, but Minseok is filled with warmth. The shock has worn off now and Minseok feels every bit as relieved as Jongin had looked. It’s like some kind of floodgates inside of him have opened, and a giddy feeling bubbles through Minseok until he’s laughing along with Jongin. Jongin leans in until their shoulders are touching, linked hands between them. They stay that way, even after their laughter lulls, until the cold sets in and Jongin shivers.
“Let’s go back inside,” Minseok suggests as Jongin huddles closer to Minseok’s side. “I just have a little more I want to finish up, and then we can head out.” Jongin nods and they haul themselves upright, grab their forgotten drinks, and head back into the store. Jongin settles back down with his homework while Minseok walks back to the painting.
Finding himself face-to-face with the piece once more, Minseok’s previous elation starts to fade. He’s still unhappy with the design, and none of the small changes he’s made have seemed to help it. Minseok sighs, picking up the can he’d been using before Jongin pulled him outside. Before climbing back onto the ladder Minseok glances back over his shoulder, and finds Jongin watching him. Jongin smiles, almost shyly, when their eyes meet. Minseok grins back. He might not be able to fix this painting, Minseok acquiesces as he steps onto the ladder. But this thing he’s got with Jongin? Minseok is pretty sure that’s something they can make work.
--
It’s close to 4 a.m. when they finally move the drop sheets and stepladder out of the way and leave with Minseok’s bag of spray paint cans slung over his shoulder. Jongin checks his phone as they walk towards Sinchon station, then swears under his breath when he pulls up the bus times.
“Night buses already stopped running,” Jongin explains when Minseok gives him a curious look. “I was hoping that they ran later, damn. I guess I’ll just wait around for the subway to start running.”
Minseok stares at Jongin in shock. “But that won’t be for at least another hour,” he says with disbelief. Jongin nods glumly, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He seems resigned to waiting with all the stranded revelers who had missed the last train home the night before. Maybe Minseok is spoiled by having an apartment nearby, but the thought of having to wait around like that appalls him. “Do you want to come over to my place?” he blurts out. Jongin’s eyes are immediately on him, wider than Minseok thinks he’s ever seen them before.
“That’s not what I meant,” Minseok says with a laugh when he realizes why Jongin looks so startled. “Not like- I mean we can just stop by the convenience store and get some snacks and watch a movie or something until the subways are running, or you can just crash there and save yourself the trip altogether? If you want.”
Jongin hesitates, then nods. “That would actually be great,” he says with a relieved grin.
There are convenience stores on almost every corner, but they end up stopping by the one just across the street from Minseok’s apartment complex. They pick up a package of cookies, coffee milk, and a bag of chips, and then they make their way over to Minseok’s building and head up the three flights of stairs to his room.
Minseok’s one room apartment is pretty small, as is his bed, but somehow Minseok and Jongin both manage to fit onto the mattress and set up Minseok’s laptop at the end. Minseok puts on some superhero movie Chanyeol let him borrow and then flops down along the length of the bed on his stomach. Jongin squeezes in so that he can tuck up his legs and lean back against the wall.
By the time they get situated and start the movie it’s pushing 4:30 a.m. and Minseok’s eyelids feel heavy. The caffeine from coffee he had earlier wore off ages ago. He makes it through about twenty minutes of the movie before he feels himself starting to nod off.
“Falling asleep already?” Jongin jokes. He pokes Minseok in the side, and Minseok groans.
“Unlike someone I didn’t spend my night ingesting energy drinks,” Minseok mumbles into the pillow he has propped up under his arms.
“Or maybe someone is just old,” Jongin says, poking Minseok again.
“Hey, watch it punk,” Minseok says. He reaches one arm out behind himself and blindly punches in Jongin’s general direction. Jongin laughs and catches hold of Minseok’s arm. A small scuffle ensues that soon turns into a full scale tug of war that ends with Minseok flipping over onto his back and accidentally pulling Jongin halfway on top of him. When Minseok looks up he finds Jongin hovering over him, hands braced on either side of Minseok’s head. Anything Minseok might have been planning to say dies on his lips, and the movie fades into background noise. Minseok doesn’t think he could pull his eyes away from Jongin’s even if he wanted to try.
“I meant it when I said I think you’re really hot,” Jongin suddenly says. He’s staring down at Minseok, so completely serious that Minseok can’t help but smile.
“I’m gonna be honest,” Minseok says with a breathless laugh, “that was the exact last thing I was expecting you to say.”
Jongin immediately flushes and pulls back until he’s sitting upright again. Minseok immediately worries that he’s said something wrong. He’s about to apologize when Jongin says, “Lu Han told me I should say it.”
“What?” Minseok exclaims. He bolts upright, lifting himself up on one elbow so that he can gape at Jongin. Once the immediate surprise wears off, though, he sinks back down onto the bed with a groan. Because of course Lu Han would be involved somehow. Of course.
“I mean,” Jongin quickly cuts in, “I always thought that? I never really considered telling you, though. But then when I was talking to Lu Han, after he totally unsubtly tried to make sure I was gay, he basically told me that you liked me but would never make the first move.” Jongin is still blushing, and Minseok is sure his face is the same color. However, more than being embarrassed, Minseok is mostly ashamed because Lu Han had been absolutely correct about him.
“He told me to make the first move, and I thought he was playing a joke on me.” Jongin’s voice is quiet now. Minseok’s heart clenches. He knows what that feels like, to worry that you might get your hopes up just to find out that you’re the butt of someone else’s joke. Minseok knows that Lu Han would never do that, but there was no way Jongin could have known.
“He was just being a nosy asshole,” Minseok says. “Sorry about that.”
Jongin shrugs, then smiles. “Turns out that he gave me good advice, though.”
Minseok snorts. “True,” he admits grudgingly. Jongin laughs, and he’s so gorgeous and so close and Minseok’s heart is racing in his chest. “Let’s stop talking about Lu Han now,” Minseok says, then reaches up and pulls Jongin down.
Jongin lets out a surprised oof when he lands on Minseok, but eagerly responds when Minseok kisses him. Jongin shifts to brace his arms against the bed, in order to both take some weight off of Minseok and to adjust the angle of the kiss. He parts his lips against Minseok’s, and Minseok reaches up so that he can wrap one arm around Jongin’s shoulders, burying his other hand in Jongin’s hair. Jongin’s response is immediate, a low moan that catches in his throat. Pleased, Minseok tugs lightly in order to bring Jongin, if possible, even closer.
They kiss open-mouthed and languid, almost lazy. Somewhere behind them on the movie buildings explode and sirens blare, but neither of them hear it. Jongin runs his teeth lightly over Minseok’s bottom lip, and Minseok shivers as they pull apart. Minseok opens his eyes Jongin is right there above him, looking back. Jongin’s lips are red and slick, and his hair is messy from Minseok’s fingers. Seeing Jongin up close, like this, Minseok feels almost overwhelmed.
“If this is the way all your visits are going to go, you’re welcome to come over anytime,” Minseok says breathlessly. Jongin smiles and leans in for another kiss.
--
Minseok hates the piece in the record shop.
“Only your part of it came out well,” he whines to Jongin when they stop by the store. It’s been a week since they finished the piece, and Minseok had insisted on coming by on their way back to Minseok’s apartment from meeting Lu Han in Hongdae, so that he could see if a bit of time and separation had changed his opinion about his work.
It hadn’t.
“I still think it looks good,” Jongin replies. He wraps a casual arm around Minseok’s shoulder, and Minseok leans into the touch.
“Biased,” Minseok accuses, even as he fights back a smile. Around them several customers browse the rows of CD and record cases. It’s surprisingly lively, enough that Kyungsoo, who had greeted them when they came in, is being kept busy. At least Kyungsoo, as well as his boss, liked the piece. Technically that’s all that really matters even though, as the artist, Minseok finds that hard to accept.
“Absolutely,” Jongin agrees shamelessly. “The most biased.” He’s got a goofy grin on that makes Minseok laughs and elbow him lightly. Minseok is pleased, though, and he knows that Jongin can tell.
“Come on,” Minseok says after another minute of scrutiny, and slides out from under Jongin’s arm. “Let’s get out of here. I might puke if I have to look at this any longer.”
Jongin snorts a laugh and follows Minseok towards the entrance. They wave goodbye to Kyungsoo before heading out onto the street and starting off again in the Sinchon direction. They could have easily caught a bus back from Hongdae to start with, but Minseok prefers to walk whenever possible. This has been a point of contention with many of his friends over the years, but Jongin doesn’t seem to mind.
Once they reach a main road Jongin places a hand lightly on Minseok’s arm. “It really does look good,” Jongin says softly. When Minseok turns to look at him Jongin isn’t smiling or laughing, just serious in the way he gets whenever he’s worried about something. “It may not be your favorite, but that doesn’t make it bad. Besides,” now he does smile, a small, shy smile reminiscent of the very first time they had talked, “we can do better next time.”
Next time. Warmth floods through Minseok and he stops walking so abruptly that Jongin almost trips trying to stop with him. Jongin throws Minseok a curious look, inquiring. Minseok isn’t sure how to explain the emotions making him feel lightheaded with happiness, so he settles for saying, “Sure.” Jongin lights up in that way he does, so that he’s practically shining, and Minseok feels much the same. He’s smiling so hard it hurts. “That sounds great.”
A/N 2:
+ A huge thank you to C for being my brainstorming buddy, and to Willow for her unending patience while handholding, cheerleading, and betaing -- all despite not even being in exo fandom. You guys are seriously the best ♡
+ Street art, especially street art in Korea, is admittedly not my area of expertise, and despite my research I feel that this was still in many ways lacking. However! If anyone has anything they're curious about, please let me know in the comments!! I would love to discuss it with you ♡