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After taking his bar exam, Seungmin has a couple of notable realizations. One being that seventh-grade him had been way too serious about becoming a lawyer, and two being, holy fuck—he was literally in love with his roommate.
He was in love with Minho, who always made him feel like he was deserving of the world, even when it was so incredibly difficult to believe some days. He was in love with Minho, who'd held him while he cried when the pressure of life was too much for his tired body to shoulder, and who'd feed him when he couldn't find it in himself to bother with even the simplest of self-care.
For some reason, he felt a pressure building behind his eyes after this revelation. This was why Seungmin didn't like drinking—he didn't like not being in control. Not being able to control his own fucking emotions was horrifying to him, and he was so overwhelmed with everything right now.
If Seungmin was anything, it was determined without a sense of self-preservation.
What did this mean?
It meant that when seventh-grade Seungmin decided that he wanted to be a lawyer, there was no questioning whether or not he'd see it through. By now, he was pretty sure that he'd gaslit himself into thinking he wanted to become a lawyer just because he once watched a law-related show and based his entire personality off of it for a few weeks, then fully brainwashed himself into believing he actually wanted it as his future.
(That was a joke, he promised.)
Obviously he eventually had the realization that it wouldn't just be butterflies and rainbows, but Seungmin was determined regardless, and he somehow reached his early twenties and went to law school.
For nearly three years now, Seungmin had studied for hours and hours on end, pulling all-nighters and developing chronic back pain from the naps he took hunched over his desk. He was surviving off of instant noodles, a disgusting amount of coffee that started tasting like water at some point, and the few healthy, homemade meals his roommate Minho would make and force him to eat when he would cooperate.
Seungmin was pretty sure that, without Minho, he would have been diagnosed with a condition with an incredibly scientific-sounding name that really just dwindled down to "You-haven't-thought-about-anything-but-the-fucking-law-for-years-so-your-brain-stopped-functioning-correctly-and-you're-going-to-die." But since Minho was a sweet, kind, wonderful angel who came to him with a halo hovering above his head, plates of snacks and fruit every so often, and soothing teas that made Seungmin want to cry because of how comforting they smelled, he had miraculously survived.
It was also because of that, though, that Seungmin was drinking tonight.
He was partly drinking to celebrate with his other law school friends because they'd all just taken the bars and were happy to have a moment to be proud of themselves for how far they'd come, but also because he, in his own little moments of celebration when he got home after his exam and found a small plate of snacks and a cute post-it note from Minho, realized belatedly that he was literally in love with his roommate.
He was in love with his sweet, kind, wonderful angel of a roommate who brought him snacks and teas. He was in love with Minho, who complained about Seungmin's light being on while he was trying to sleep, but would quietly keep him company while he worked late at night, even if he had early morning classes or work the next day. He was in love with Minho, who would tease him for being a nerd, then take care of him when he studied and leave encouraging post-it notes in his textbooks.
Seungmin was in love with his roommate, Minho Lee, so he was basically fucked.
As soon as he finished the piece of calamari he'd been mindlessly nibbling at for the past ten minutes, he finished the rest of his beer and gladly accepted one of the shots his friend Jeongin had poured. The pair downed them at the same time and then Jeongin was pouring them more.
"Why do you look so distraught, Attorney Kim?" Jeongin asked two shots later, letting out a little giggle as Seungmin paused before taking another. "Trying to come to terms with the fact that you're a lightweight?"
Seungmin narrowed his eyes at the other. He scoffed and downed the rest of it, kicking Jeongin's shin. Jeongin yelped and nearly choked on his piece of calamari. "Jesus, that was unnecessary," Jeongin grumbled quietly to himself. "But seriously, what's going on with you? You look like shit."
"Thanks, there's no need for such flattery," Seungmin deadpanned, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Just tired."
Jeongin blinked at him with the beginning of a frown on his face, as if there was something on Seungmin's forehead that was telling him what was wrong, but it was upside down and had been put through twelve languages on a Google Translate app.
Seungmin was not paying attention to him anymore.
He was zoned out, instead staring at the record player across the bar as he sank deeper into his half-drunken crisis. He was going back and forth—from the bars to Minho, then back again.
The gravity of what he'd done today was finally beginning to settle in. The rollercoaster of emotions he'd felt throughout the entire day—from waking up after another sleepless night and robotically getting ready, feeling trapped in his own chest and mind while he got ready and checked his backpack several times before leaving; to coming home after the exam and changing into more comfortable clothes, having the fucking realization that he was in love with his roommate of almost four years, then sucking his feelings back in to come to this bar party he wasn't even really enjoying anymore.
Seungmin let out an exhausted sigh, suddenly hating the way he could still taste the alcohol on his taste buds. He reached over to the little basket of strawberry-flavored hard candies at the end of the table and popped one into his mouth, closing his eyes slowly and relaxing back into his chair. He breathed out in contentment when he was able to taste the strawberry, his mouth being rid of the gross taste of soju.
He opened his eyes again, glancing at Jeongin's side profile. The other seemed to be trying to convince one of their other friends, Jungeun, that his relationship with Hyunjin Hwang was purely platonic.
(Personally, Seungmin would beg to differ and probably would have jumped in on Jungeun's side, but he didn't.)
Seungmin, instead of just joining in on the teasing, blurted out something he instantly regretted. Jeongin and Jungeun's conversation stopped and they turned to him, looking a bit confused.
"What?" Jeongin asked.
"Oh, um," Seungmin swallowed, glancing between the two as a nervous laugh escaped his lips, "Nothing. It was nothing."
Jungeun raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh, yeah, sure," she stirred her drink a bit with the straw, "Who is it? The person who's making you question this."
Seungmin let out a pathetic whine. "Why'd you pretend not to hear me if you heard me the first time?"
"Because you asking about being in love is not really something I thought I'd live to see!" Jungeun defended, and Jeongin nodded immediately. "At some point in the past years I just accepted that you'd probably get married to that fucking law book."
"That fucking law book saved my ass a lot today, thank you very much," Seungmin shot back, not appreciating her talking badly about his precious book. "But whatever, just ignore what I said. It's not a big deal."
Jungeun and Jeongin exchanged looks, and then Jeongin was speaking again. "Would this person happen to be your roommate with the tea?"
Seungmin almost swallowed the rest of the strawberry candy whole. "What? No, obviously not. That's weird."
A part of him felt a little twinge of uncomfortableness in his chest at calling the idea of being in love with Minho "weird," as if it were such an unbelievable thing to suggest. Who wouldn't fall in love with Minho?
Jungeun and Jeongin let out a laugh, though, and Seungmin hated the way it sounded like they knew something he didn't. "What?" He frowned.
"You're being ridiculous, Seungmin," Jungeun said offhandedly as she finished the rest of her drink. "It's so obvious that you're literally seconds away from mapping out six different ways to propose to him every time you talk about this guy, and you just asked about love. If that's not saying something that's making big alarms go off in your head, I don't know what will."
"Yeah, maybe you just became incredibly emotionally constipated because you overloaded yourself with the law," Jeongin suggested. "Even through our own emotional constipation we noticed you getting all lovey-dovey."
Seungmin stared at his friends in disbelief. "I am not emotionally constipated, nor am I about to plan a proposal," he narrowed his eyes at both of them, actually starting to feel a bit irritated. "It's really nothing. It was just a stupid thought because I'm drinking as much as I want for the first time in, like, a year."
None of those were entirely true, but also not entirely wrong.
He would admit that he was slightly emotionally constipated, but not because he'd been stuffing himself with the law for years. He was slightly emotionally constipated because he'd always felt the need to be. The idea of opening up to people scared the fuck out of him.
(And yet he cried all those times in Minho's arms, sobbing out his worries and everything he was afraid of—something he hadn't even done with his parents, and never imagined being able to.)
He was not about to plan a proposal, and definitely not six of them. He had only discovered his feelings less than five hours ago, and even then, he wasn't completely sure they were real. Maybe he just loved the idea of Minho—someone who took care of him so sincerely, and who was there by his side even when it was probably frustrating to be around him.
And he was not drinking as much as he wanted. Seungmin didn't even like alcohol, which was obvious because of the accumulation of strawberry candy wrappers he had next to his empty shot glass. He didn't like alcohol because it made him feel like he wasn't in control, but maybe a part of him just wanted to feel numb for now.
Finishing his candy, Seungmin reached for the soju bottle by Jeongin and poured himself another shot. He downed it like it was nothing, winced at the disgusting taste, and all but slammed the glass back down onto the table.
"Okay, that's enough alcohol for you tonight." Jeongin took the glass away from him, and Seungmin barely heard himself mumble back the best threat he could manage.
He blinked slowly, then opened his eyes again and saw Jungeun looking at him, her expression softened compared to before. Seungmin wondered if everyone could hear what he was thinking—if they could hear the thousands of thoughts spinning around his head at hundreds of miles per minute, all filled with the same name.
He wondered if Jungeun and Jeongin had figured out the true extent of his feelings before he had. He wondered if Minho had known.
Seungmin took a swig of Jeongin's beer, the other letting out a yelp at the sudden theft. Jeongin took it back and put it far away from Seungmin, a horrified look on his face.
"I'm calling Minho-hyung.” Jeongin sighed, pulling out his phone. "You're going home."
"Why?" Seungmin whined, leaning sadly against the younger's shoulder.
His attitude was changing—he was becoming something akin to a whiny child being put on a screen limit. The situation of his drunkenness was suddenly growing to be a lot more serious.
"You're going to get alcohol poisoning or something," Jeongin mumbled, then glanced over at Jungeun. "Is that how that works?"
Jungeun let out an unamused sigh, shaking her head. "You're both stupid."
Seungmin sniffled, getting more comfortable on Jeongin's shoulder. His shoulder was bony, but it was better than screwing up his back on the stiff metal chair he was sitting on. Eventually, he was able to rest and close his eyes, tuning out the sounds of loud music and his classmates playing messy drinking games, listening in on Jeongin's conversation as he rang Seungmin's roommate.
Wait.
"Wait, what? Don't do that!" Seungmin gasped, trying to take Jeongin's phone.
It was a Thursday night and Minho had work tomorrow morning. He didn't want to make him drive half an hour out to pick him up because he was trying to drink his feelings away, especially since they were literally feelings for him. He also couldn't possibly make Minho come get him and see him in his drunken state. He wouldn't allow it if he wanted to preserve any bit of the sanity he had left.
(On the other hand, though, he did kind of miss the older one now that he really thought about it.)
"Stop! Get your—ow! Did you just fucking bite me?" Jeongin pulled his hand away, smacking blindly at Seungmin. "Ow! Let me go!"
"Don't call him!" Seungmin exclaimed.
"He's already on the phone, you idiot!" Jeongin said, biting Seungmin's outstretched hand.
Seungmin let out another whine, giving up and instead falling forward. He fell into Jeongin's lap, who he heard make a noise of surprise. He also heard Jungeun laughing, and then Jeongin greeting him.
"Hey, hyung! Sorry, were you sleeping?" Jeongin asked, and Seungmin felt his heart drop to his ass. He was supposed to be put together. He wasn't supposed to be drinking like this, knowing very well he couldn't handle his alcohol. "Oh, okay, good. I was just calling because Seungmin is, um—" he glanced down at the borderline puddle of a man laying in his lap, "—He's drunk. I was wondering if you could come pick him up?"
Silence for a moment. Seungmin wondered if Minho was plotting his death now. Or maybe he was writing up his papers to move out and find another roommate who wasn't crushing on him like a fifth-grader and who wasn't drinking their feelings away less than five hours after taking arguably the biggest test of their life. Death or moving out—Seungmin was pretty sure they'd be equally as bad because in both situations the outcome would be a lack of Minho.
"I don't know. I saw him eating calamari earlier? Not much, though." Another gap of silence. "No, we didn't eat lunch. We didn't have time."
Seungmin sniffled and did his best to push the feelings bubbling in his chest back down, letting out a hum of content as he relaxed in Jeongin's lap. He was able to make out the feeling of a hand running through his hair, and realized that Jeongin had begun carding his fingers through it in an attempt to soothe him. Seungmin breathed in through his nose and closed his eyes, trying to block out the loud thoughts trying to take over the forefront of his mind again.
He wasn't sure when or how he'd fallen asleep, but before he knew it, his eyes were opening again.
This time, though, Seungmin wasn't lying in Jeongin's lap in the bar. He was in a car, surrounded by a familiar scent. Seungmin let out a happy sigh, and then his breath hitched and he turned his head to see Minho fucking Lee driving with one hand, the other secured in his own.
If Seungmin wasn't going to die from drinking on an empty stomach, it'd be because of this.
"Uh, um," Seungmin cleared his throat, pulling his hand away as his eyes widened, "Shit, sorry. You didn't have to come and pick me up."
Minho glanced at him and, even through bad lighting and his drunken haze, Seungmin saw the unreadable expression on his face. "It's no problem," he replied, looking back at the road. "You were drunk. I wasn't going to tell Jeongin to just send you home in a taxi."
"Why not?" Seungmin asked the question before he could even process himself thinking about it. His brain was moving too fast now. Maybe this was a side effect of spending so much time trying to cram tons of information into his head, then trying to speed through tests too long for the time allotted.
"Does alcohol make you that stupid?" Minho snickered playfully. Seungmin only pouted at the words.
"Don't be mean to me," he said. "My head already hurts."
"Okay, okay, fine," Minho sighed. "I'll lecture you on safety tomorrow. Just sleep a bit more. We still have, like, twenty minutes until we're home."
Seungmin nodded wordlessly and relaxed into the seat.
Seungmin woke up the next day and truly thought about offing himself because, until then, anything would have been better than the awful ache in his head and the disorienting feeling of waking up sweaty and wearing a trashy tee and his roommates sweatpants at 3 in the afternoon.
He groaned in discomfort and rolled over in his bed, yawning then immediately regretting it. In an instant, he felt the urge to empty his entire stomach and he knew he only had a few seconds before it was no longer just a warning. Seungmin threw himself out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. He hunched over the toilet and the rest was a blur.
At some point, though, someone came behind him and used one hand to rub his back and the other to hold him up so he didn’t fucking face plant into the toilet.
It took an embarrassingly long amount of time to recover from it, and even more so when he realized that the person had been Minho and now the older one was helping him clean his face off.
“You really can’t handle your alcohol, huh?” Minho asked eventually, slightly teasing but not unkind. “Thank god you didn’t miss the toilet, though, holy shit.”
Seungmin only managed a small chuckle, rolling his eyes. “Next time I’ll throw up on you,” he said.
“There better not be a second time,” Minho replied, a small smile on his face now. “I’d rather not get a call about you being drunk at, like, eleven at night again.”
Seungmin’s smile fell almost instantaneously. Minho’s did too once he noticed the change in expression. “I’m sorry about that, actually,” Seungmin said. “That was so embarrassing, fuck. I’m sorry they called you. I could have just gotten a—“
“A cab?” Minho finished for him, an eyebrow raised. Seungmin nodded. “Yeah, no, absolutely not. I said I’d rather not get one, but I didn’t say that because it was such a hassle for me to come get you—I said it because it was unsafe and I was worried. Don’t get me wrong, I would come to you in a heartbeat if you were drunk and needed a ride home—“
Seungmin’s heart skipped a beat and his head started hurting even more. Normally, his brain would comprehend words like that as just that—words, straightforward and not having any other underlying meaning. But in his muddled and delusional thinking, he searched for something else in what Minho had said.
“—but I would rather you not get drunk at all because it’s just not good for you and I don’t want to see you sick like this.”
This was one of the things about Minho that Seungmin was sure was among the reasons for why he liked him.
He, contrary to popular belief, was able to bluntly state his feelings. This wasn’t in the generic way—like outrightly confessing his feelings to someone’s face or telling someone they looked bad—because Minho had his own way of doing it. He was quick to reassure, explain, and validate, and he had no trouble doing that. Minho had a way of delivering big bombs quietly. If he felt a certain way and wanted someone to know, he would voice it.
So hearing this from Minho of all people was exactly what he needed this morning because he actually felt it to be true. Apart from the fact that Seungmin wanted to believe this was a sign of Minho being interested in him romantically, it was reassurance he really needed just from anyone. It was reassurance that he wasn’t just causing trouble for everyone around him and that he was cared for.
Seungmin could only smile sleepily after Minho said that. “Thank you for coming to get me, Minho,” he said genuinely, hoping it came out that way. “I’m sorry for ruining your night.”
“Oh, shut it, you didn’t ruin my night at all,” Minho sighed, smiling fondly and helping Seungmin up. “I made some haejang-guk for you, so wash up then come out and eat.”
Seungmin sighed and nodded. “You’re a lifesaver, y’know that?”
Minho snickered and pinched his cheek on his way out of the bathroom. “Yeah, sure.”
Seungmin came out into the kitchen and sat down at the counter just as Minho turned off the stove. He watched as the older man practically glided around the kitchen, collecting a bowl of haejang-guk for Seungmin. He placed it right in front of him and handed him a spoon.
“Just eat this for now,” he said. “I would give you rice and kimchi, but I don’t think you should eat something big right now.”
Seungmin nodded. “Thanks,” he said before he started eating, melting to the taste. The soup was really fucking good for hangover soup.
Seungmin ate quietly for some time while Minho washed some dishes left over in the sink from the day prior. When Seungmin was halfway through his meal, Minho appeared in front of him on the other side of the counter.
“Is it good?” he asked, sounding cautious. “I’ve never made haejang-guk before.”
(Oh yeah, because Minho never drank, and when he did, he never had hangovers bad enough to make haejang-guk. What a bastard.)
Seungmin hummed. “It’s good,” he said. “Is it a difficult recipe? Did it take long?”
Seungmin didn’t want Minho to have spent his whole morning making this for him. That would be even more embarrassing, and he would also feel like shit because Minho shouldn’t have to do this for him on a Saturday.
“No, not long at all,” Minho said. “It’s not that complicated either. I just didn’t want to screw it up.”
Seungmin hummed again. “Well, you didn’t.”
They stayed in silence for some time. Minho scrolled through his phone and Seungmin finished the whole bowl of haejang-guk. When he was done, he yawned and stood up to put his bowl away. Minho didn’t comment, only watching the younger as he moved around the counter and went to the sink. Seungmin wasn’t sure if Minho was still watching him as he started washing the dishes, but moments later, he heard the older one clear his throat a little and shift his weight to a different foot.
“Uh, so,” Minho started speaking, “Can we talk about something?”
Seungmin’s heart sank and he nearly dropped the bowl. He began racking his brain for anything he could’ve done wrong or anything that could have been misunderstood, anything of importance to talk about. Maybe he’d said something stupid last night and Minho was trying to figure out a way to let him down slowly because he wasn’t interested in him that way and never would be. He vaguely remembered holding Minho’s hand the night before, and maybe that alone had been enough to scare him off.
Or maybe Minho was moving out and they would never see each other again. That would suck almost just as much as the first option, because at least with that one he’d get closure—
“It’s nothing bad, at least I don’t think it is,” Minho said, cutting through his thoughts. “And sorry, actually, I should have waited until you were done washing the dishes. I’ll wait in the living room, if that’s okay with you? I know this is sudden and you’re probably still half hungover.”
Any ounce of his hangover that had been still there before was now gone. He was pretty sure he’d actually been completely sobered up when Minho said they needed to talk, and now he was too focused on that to think about anything else.
Seungmin swallowed and looked back at the older one. “No, yeah, we can talk,” he said. “You don’t have to be sorry, but I don’t want you to have to talk to my back so we can talk after I’m done.”
Minho smiled small and nodded, then stepped away while Seungmin returned to all of his worst-case scenarios.
Seungmin joined Minho in the living room a few minutes later. He sat down on the couch next to him and quickly observed Minho’s body language—how he sat, curled up with a pillow in his lap as if to protect himself, and an unreadable expression on his face that felt much too familiar.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Seungmin asked, bringing up the topic.
Minho wet his lips and adjusted to sit up straighter. “I’m sorry for making it sound like I was upset with you or something,” he clarified. It seemed like that had been sitting on his mind ever since their interaction just minutes before. “I just want to get this out there.”
“It’s okay, don’t be sorry,” Seungmin said. “Say whatever you need to.”
Minho smiled a little and nodded. He looked down at his hands and breathed in. “Last night, while you were drunk and when I had just gotten to the bar, I, um, I think that—“
His breathing had begun speeding up and he just felt the need to beat Minho to saying it or mentioning it. During his dishwashing (which took a lot longer than it needed to due to his inability to face possible confrontation) session, he realized that the night before, he hadn’t only held hands with Minho in the car. Before then, he’d practically confessed to his roommate of four years and crush of god knows how long.
“I’m so sorry if I said something weird,” Seungmin interrupted, his heart racing a million miles per hour. “I shouldn’t have overloaded you with all of that shit so late at night and I should have kept my mouth shut. If you want to reject me, that’s perfectly okay and I understand completely because we’re just roommates and friends and—“
“Hey, wait, can I finish what I was saying before you start apologizing for something you might not even have to?” Minho intervened, looking a bit upset now. Seungmin’s heart sank further. This hadn’t been one of his worse-case scenarios, but this was probably worse than the worst of them.
“Yes. I’m sorry again,” Seungmin mumbled out, sinking deeper into his seat and kind of wishing it'd just swallow him whole.
“Thank you,” Minho continued. “As I was saying, I think that last night made me realize how much time I’ve wasted.”
Seungmin blinked. What?
“I’ve liked—I’ve been in love with you for, like, two years now,” Minho admitted, trying to smile in spite of how insecure he looked. “I’ve known since last year, but I never worked up the guts to tell you because, well, for one, you’re my roommate and if it went wrong, it’d be really fucking messy. Two, I’m older than you, and even if it’s only by two years, I know that might be uncomfortable for some people and making you uncomfortable is the last thing I want to do.”
“And three, I just convinced myself that it would never happen,” he said, looking down again. “I still don’t know if I have any real chance considering last night might have been the alcohol talking, but I’m willing to take a leap of faith here because if there’s even a sliver of a chance of this not being completely one-sided, I’m okay with it.”
Seungmin couldn’t respond.
Memories of pining after the older one without even realizing it ran through his mind, making it abundantly clear that he’d been crushing on and in love with Minho for a lot longer than he’d thought. The feelings of regret and guilt and anger at himself as well as nothing but love and respect and adoration for Minho followed soon after.
Seungmin was regretful because he wished he’d noticed sooner. He wasn’t sure if that would improve this situation at all, but he wished he’d been able to recognize his feelings for Minho earlier on so that he could process them easier now.
He felt guilty because Minho had been aware of it for the past year, while Seungmin had only realized it the day before and was able to confess everything and wouldn’t have really felt the consequences entirely consciously or soberly. It was a complicated way of looking at the situation that would probably only make sense to Seungmin, but he felt guilty because it felt like he’d had it the easier way when Minho had probably been so cautious all that time.
It was neither of their faults, though. He knew this, and yet he still felt bad about it.
And he felt angry with himself, also because it’d taken him so long to notice. He’d handled none of this situation in a way he wished he could have. He’d probably overwhelmed Minho with his feelings the night before, sent mixed signals when he was half sober in the car, then interrupted Minho when he’d been trying to talk about his feelings because he was afraid he’d get judged for his own, even while knowing Minho would never do that.
Minho was not a cruel person. Under no circumstances would he have ever judged or ridiculed or made fun of Seungmin for how he felt, and yet he had brainwashed himself into believing that this would be some special exception. Minho was kind and handled the genuine feelings of those around him with care, and it felt so wrong to have assumed he’d treat this any differently.
He felt love and respect and adoration for Minho because of those reasons as well. Minho had spent the past year not being able to tell Seungmin about his feelings and probably would have gone the rest of his life without speaking up in order to not make him uncomfortable, or in order to save their friendship. After last night, he was willing to risk things for his love for Seungmin and confessed properly—something Seungmin himself wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do if he were in his position. And Seungmin felt love for him because, now that he knew he was in love with him, he didn’t want to spend any time not letting himself feel it.
He was also increasingly upset with himself when he noticed how long he’d gone without saying anything. Minho had settled on his side of the couch, now with watery eyes and a look of regret on his face.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“ Minho tried to apologize, seemingly afraid he had misread the situation.
“No, you’re right,” Seungmin blurted out. Minho looked a little puzzled and Seungmin sighed because that wasn’t what he meant to say. “I like you—might even love you. I just… I only realized it yesterday, like probably seven hours before I told you.”
Relief spread across Minho’s face in an instant and Seungmin liked that a lot better than how afraid he looked before.
“And I know for a fact that they’re true,” he followed up, not wanting to leave any room for doubt. “I’m in love with you and I’m pretty sure I have been for a long time, I’ve just been, uh, too emotionally constipated to realize it, I guess? Everyone else seems to have known before me, so I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to recognize it.”
“I really am in love with you,” Seungmin repeated, glad to be able to say that out loud and relishing in how right it felt. “I have no idea what I said last night and I’m sorry I can’t make it up to you now because my brain is still processing the fact that you actually like me back, but one thing I am so sure of right now is my feelings for you. I’m sure of loving you and everything about you, and I’m sure of wanting to be with you and wanting to be able to cherish you the way I think I’ve always wanted to.”
“I’m just—I know that I love you, and it feels so good to finally be able to tell you, even if I’ve only been consciously aware of it since yesterday,” he said. “I don’t want you to doubt any of my feelings for you just because of that, though, because I realize now that I’ve always felt this way about you and, since we met, I can’t remember a time where I didn’t.”
Minho broke out into a big smile and a tear fell down his cheek. Seungmin leaned forward by some strange instinct and wiped it away. When he met Minho’s eyes, they filled with tears again and Seungmin panicked.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry—“
“No, no, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying,” he whispered out. “I just… I’m so relieved.”
Seungmin smiled. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
Minho sniffled and shook his head. “It was worth it.”
Seungmin’s chest was about to burst as he looked at Minho. Neither of them could hold back their widening smiles and the older one let out a little laugh before falling forward onto his shoulder.
“I love you, did you know that?”
“Now I do,” Seungmin replied. “I love you too, did you know that?”
Seungmin still believed that he hadn’t been able to mend the fact that he hadn’t even really been there for his own confession to Minho, but he hoped that their future together would be even a fraction of enough time to make up for it.
(“Wait, so what does this make us?” Seungmin asked later that night during dinner as he picked up his lemonade.
They hadn’t explicitly decided on labels and, though Seungmin was perfectly fine with that, he was also curious as to how official they were going to be.
Minho looked up at him from his plate and—too easily—responded with, “Dating, I’d hope.”
Seungmin choked on his drink and Minho laughed loudly at his reaction, reaching over to hand him one of the crappy napkins their food delivery had come with.
“Sorry, too straightforward? We can just take it slow without labels if you want,” Minho backtracked, though he still seemed to be holding back laughter.
Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I’m not dating you until you stop laughing at me.”
Minho laughed again, then worked for the next couple of minutes to calm himself down. He breathed in slowly at the end of it and smiled lovingly at Seungmin. “Now will you date me?”
Seungmin pretended to think about it when, in reality, the concept of them being officially together pushed his heart on the verge of exploding into a million little heart-shaped shards of love and happiness and fucking rainbows and unicorns.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He really hoped that Minho couldn’t sense the fact that he was using all of his self-restraint to not jump up and start kissing him to death right in the middle of their meal.)