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Minho sighs by the time he cuts the corner in the corridor and he sees Hyunjin sketching on the floor.
“So what did you do now?”
Hyunjin looks up. He’s crossed-legged in front of Minho’s office door, blinking up all innocently as if he’s not about to rewire Minho’s entire day before he pulls his keys out.
“My roommate wants to switch. Again.”
“Does he, now?” Minho says, tired but mildly amused. He starts unlocking the door. “That’s the second one this semester. He can forget about it.”
He pretends not to notice how Hyunjin sprints back up like a tightly bound spring. “He was very persistent and I kind of agree with him this time. He’s an idiot. We’re a horrible match.”
Minho hums, uncommitted. He makes a point of ignoring how unnecessarily close Hyunjin is standing, with his uniform jacket brushing into Minho’s shoulder. He also pretends not to notice the sugary whiff of fruits that follows the boy around as he opens the door and leans to the side, waiting for Hyunjin to step in first.
“The bitch has his god awful music on speaker all day then complains when I have the light on late to paint, go figure.”
“Language,” Minho warns him, rather lazily. “You should have thought about this before pestering the last one into threatening to drop out of college. I already milked all my monitor favors for you.”
“You’ve had to call in favors for me?” Minho realizes he said too much when Hyunjin speeds in front of him, voice high and arms stretching like he pretends to hug the whole room. “Hyungnim! You shouldn't have!”
Minho feels an eye twitching at the inadequate use of the honorific, only mildly regretting letting Hyunjin in as he closes the door behind them. Over the past month he has learned to accept Hyunjin for the annoying, overly excited little beast that he is, all ambitious ideas and little planning for them, so he knows by now that a closed door won’t stop him from drilling Minho with whatever imaginary problem he created for himself now.
“You’re more than welcome to switch dorms with me if you like. A whole office for yourself. How does that sound?” He's joking, of course, but his voice is as languid as usual and so he has the pleasure of seeing Hyunjin making a horrified turn to the other door at one side of the rectangle-shaped office; the one that leads to the barely bigger sleeping room that Minho has. The other monitors call it the dormoffice, something he sadly only understood once they’d already assigned him this wing.
It’s a miracle Hyunjin doesn’t hit him in the eye with his sketchbook when he makes another rapid spin. He slams it on the desk and leans on it towards Minho, blinking his pristine lashes at him.
“Hyung is so generous, but I could never do that to you,” he says, as insincere as humanly possible.
Minho is a simple man, so he doesn’t really mind the tiny-ass office, having enough space to sit on the desk and fill the bookshelf with his own literature, but he is acutely aware of how much space he has to move around right now, as Hyunjin coats everything with pheromones that will take forever to wear off. He scents everything so strongly that Minho cannot help but be slightly relieved that the school is omega-only, so he doesn’t have to worry about him running into the wrong person every other day on his way to class.
Well. Omega-only in regards to the student body, that is. He’d noticed first thing when he moved in that the staff is mostly betas and a couple alphas doing administrative work, like the dean, but all the monitors are also omegas and a few betas. Then they hired him and made some weird remarks about the high expectations they have for him taking a hold of the noisiest dormitory.
“Sit down,” he instructs, resigning himself to standing up around while Hyunjin takes the one chair his office has behind the desk. “You didn’t mind strutting all the way up here to bother me. Do you realize how late it is?”
“Can I stay here for a while?”
“What?”
That makes Minho turn. Hyunjin sits behind the desk, hands clasped together on his lap, staring up all innocently like he didn’t rat on how much of a bitch his roommate is a few minutes ago.
Minho frowns. “And do what?”
“Sketch.” Hyunjin shrugs. A few ink stains show on the inside of his hands when he starts fiddling. “You won’t even notice I’m here, I’ll be quiet.”
“Don’t you have some party to go somewhere? You kids love sneaking out to those.”
Hyunjin pouts. “Don’t you want me around? I’m great company! You need some creative energy here as well, how are you not going crazy living inside a matchbox?”
“I can feng-shui all on my own.” He starts squinting, slowly walking up to the desk. “And I’d appreciate my chair not smelling like fruits cocktail. Why don’t you want to go back to your room?”
“That’s harrassment!” Hyunjin gasps at him, dramatic as ever as a finger raises to point at Minho. “You could get fired for that, hyung! And I’ll have you know most people find my scent charming! You should be grateful it’s me and not Han Jisung stinking up your place.”
“Hyunjin.”
“Not only is his music taste shit but he has everything smelling like wet dog—”
Hyunjin makes a sound, high-pitched but muffled when Minho grabs him by the jaw and forces him to stop talking. He barely flinches though, letting himself be dragged around by Minho as he angles Hyunjin’s face up. His eyes are shiny in a strange way that makes something dangerous start curling in Minho’s belly, as he stares back and it’s clear as day that Hyunjin wants him to inch a little further down the line.
Minho kind of regrets every decision that led him to work in this school.
“I asked you a question,” he starts, voice steady and calm even though he can see Hyunjin squirming in the single comfortable chair they let him have in this miniscule room. “And you’re not going to sit there and ramble your way out of it. What is it?”
Hyunjin takes too long to answer. It doesn’t even seem like he is processing the question, and the hint of sweetness that follows him around starts pouring out in stronger waves off him, so Minho shakes his face a bit. He’s not about to deal with a horny sophomore here.
“Hyunjin-ssi. Speak up. What’s wrong?”
There’s some real empathy in Minho's tone this time around, so Hyunjin yields. “Jisung kicked me out.”
Minho scoffs. “And you let him?”
“That’s not it.” Hyunjin makes a grab for his wrist and Minho lets himself be cast aside as the younger groans in defeat. “He has someone coming over, it’s better that I’m not there, trust me.”
Oh.
This is where Minho starts feeling really tired. He leans into the side of the desk, rubbing at his eyes as he sighs. “That might be a problem. Does he bring them often?”
Minho doesn’t beat around the bush. The school grounds might have sworn to be an omega-only facility, a safe haven for the youth to achieve higher education without the complexities of early mating, being courted and warding off dangerous alphas and whatever, but he’s not an idiot. A week of sleeping in the same building as the students made it obvious that mates get sneaked in day in and out, and that being an omega-only facility only encourages said omegas to court each other as well.
He also thinks the whole university system is full of shit. There’s not a single reason for subgender-only facilities to still exist in this day and age, but these buildings are centuries old and so are their rules.
“No. But I walked in on them last week.” Hyunjin makes a face. “Maybe he fears I’ll steal his boyfriend now, some burly man that is.” He scratches at the peeled leather on one of the armchairs, eyes dropping so Minho doesn’t catch the jealousy stabbing through them. He knows Hyunjin too well by now not to notice that’s exactly where all of this is going, though. “I’m not sure they’re mated but they must really like each other.”
“And it’s no problem of yours.”
Hyunjin does flinch a bit at that, but Minho doesn’t feel sorry. He’s already ripped this particular bandaid off several times. But they keep coming back around it because Hyunjin’s big, major issue is, he desperately wants to be mated. He’s one of those romantic kids that are fully convinced that finding themselves a big, protective alpha to tie the knot with will solve all of their problems for life.
Minho knows better. He has lived a decade more and hasn’t met a single alpha who’s serious about mating, but several naive omegas who end up leading themselves into heartbreak. He should not have majored in psychology.
“Unless Jisung parades the guy around and it triggers a heat-wave in the building,” which, according to Minho’s supervisor, happened at least once while he still ran the dormitory, “I’m not about to walk in there and chase him out. You need to let this whole thing go, Hyunjinie.”
The brat has the nerve to pout again, staring sadly at the floor with so much intent that Minho nearly feels bad for him. He sighs.
“Did you think about what I told you last time?” Hyunjin stays silent, but Minho does not. “There’s some really nice colleges that have mating programs incorporated around town. You would certainly be happier than you are here,” he adds, while Hyunjin sulks further and further in the seat as Minho goes on.
Hyunjin bounces a leg up and down and Minho fights the urge to hold him by the knee so he stays put. “This is a good school. I can’t do that.”
It’s the same heartless, copywritten response he gave the first time Minho brought this up. It’s a good school. This degree will get me anywhere. My parents paid good money. Minho has a thing or two to say about all the parents that sent their kids to such an uptight, backwards-thinking university, but nobody has ever asked for his opinion on the matter.
He sighs. “I’m taking a nap.” He straightens up and moves towards the door by the side of the office. “Try not to paint over the desk, I’ll be paying for it.”
He avoids looking at Hyunjin throughout the whole process, letting him sit in silence for a bit as he adjusts to Minho silently agreeing to his earlier request. He paces around in the other room for a bit, fixes the sheets in the bed before setting down, and leaves the door open in full swing. From this angle he can see the bookshelf next to the desk and gets a glimpse of the back of Hyunjin’s head when he peaks into it. Minho closes his eyes and sits his head back into the pillow before Hyunjin looks his way.
A minute or so later, “Can I read your books?”
Minho hums, yaws, and finally, “Sure. Just don’t mix them around.”
He frankly stays awake for a good while but still appreciates the shut-eye time in silence, so quiet that he can make out the occasional sound of page turning and pencils moving from the other room. The faint smell of sweetness reaching into his bed lulls him to sleep.
♥
It takes a few weeks of Hyunjin spending his weekends doodling away in the dormoffice before Minho gets around to speaking to Jisung, but he does get to it.
There’s a huge poster for a rockband on his side of the room and above his bed which Minho gets full view of from Hyunjin’s side, sitting on the floor. It’s obnoxious and so are Jisung’s bed sheets, and the clutter on his desk, and the smudged eyeliner circling his eyes. It makes them look so much sharper as he zooms into Minho from his side of the floor. He’s cute in an offputting way, so Minho understands right away why Hyunjin and him might clash a bit.
“So what’s his name?” Minho prompts, rolling a tennis ball he borrowed from his supervisor on the floor and towards Jisung. He’s been talking to him for a while, tried throwing it a few times and quickly discovered the kid has no reflexes whatsoever.
“It’s Hwang Hyunjin I’m rooming with, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Minho glares at him. It makes Jisung shrink a little when he reaches for the ball. “So it’s Hyunjin leaving bite marks on your thighs, I assume."
Jisung flushes deep and reaches a hand to pull down the hem of his shorts, to no avail. He ends up flexing up his legs before he throws the ball back at Minho.
“First off, ew! I actually have standards. Second of all, you’re pretty chill for being in charge of watching over us and everything, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business—”
The throw is flimsy so Minho catches it easily enough, “You’re so lousy with him that it’s bothering your roommate enough to complain about it. So how long do you think will pass before news reaches somebody that doesn’t like you and you’re actually in trouble?”
Jisung stares at him from above his knees, eyes shiny and suddenly very scared. “You’re not going to… I mean you wouldn’t—”
“I’m no snitch.” Minho rolls the ball again, following its path right next to Jisung’s paint stained hand. He’s quite like Hyunjin in that regard, just with nail polish instead of acrylics. “And neither is Hyunjin, in case you’re worried. He’s just annoyed.”
He avoids looking at Jisung in the eye still, allowing him to breathe and process all that Minho just said.
“It’s not my business,” he goes on, looking at the poster on the wall. There’s some japanese characters on it. “You’re right about that. But sadly there’s an awful lot of rules that you have to pretend to follow through here, in regards to kissing other people and all that.”
“I’m not twelve.”
Minho looks back and Jisung is scrunching up his face at him. He snorts.
“I can see that. But you get my point. Don’t you think that maybe,” he shrugs, “You’re going a bit fast with this guy? How long have you known each other?”
A few other beats pass before the ball flies over Jisung’s knees and somewhat close to Minho again. “His sister was in a band I had in high-school.”
“Ah, so we have a lusting over best friend’s brother situation here.”
“He courted me for the past few years!” Minho gets a kick to the sole of his shoe at that. “And I’ll have you know he had to be very persistent. We just got together this summer.”
“And he hasn’t mated you yet? Damn. He’ll freak next time he gets a whiff of me in here.”
Jisung gets so flustered at that, he misses the next time the tennis ball rolls to his side entirely and the wildberries scent coating his side of the room gets stronger. He’s so dramatic. Him and Hyunjin would get along so well if they weren’t using all their energy on pissing the fuck out of each other.
“Look, if you’re happy, I’m happy,” perhaps happy ain’t the right word, but it gives Minho some solace knowing that this isn’t some random knothead Jisung met at a brotherhood brawl from one of the neighbouring colleges. “But try to tone it down a little. That’s all I’m saying. It might also help your non-existent cohabitation arrangement with Hyunjin, you know.”
Jisung stays fiddling with the tennis ball in his lap, sitting crossed leg in front of Minho again. “I can’t believe he sent you to give me the hormones talk while I’m already in my twenties.”
“He didn’t. It’s my job. But I am kind of tired of having him lurk all day in my office because you’re stuck in the honeymoon phase.”
Jisung is… why is he looking at Minho like that?
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Are you really tired of Hyunjin?”
Minho cocks an eyebrown. “What do you mean?”
Jisung shrugs. “I thought you two were awfully close. He sulks all day then comes back fresh as a grape from your place when he thinks I’m asleep.”
“I don’t see your point.”
Jisung gives him a shy, impish smile. “Weren’t we being honest with each other, Minho-hyung?”
Minho actually does see his point, but he’s not about to entertain it. He feels like he’s had Hyunjin’s shadow trailing right behind his own since he got transferred at the beginning of the semester, all promises of unforeseen talent and a bright future under the school’s art program, also shrouded in warnings for misbehaviour and ‘a need for corrective measures’. Minho hasn’t really need to keep a close eye on him, with how prone Hyunjin is to walk right up to him and bother him with all of his petty complaints about everything and everyone. He’s honestly a good kid but he’s pretty lonely. Minho has a feeling he keeps getting himself into trouble out of a strange lack of attention for an omega as appealing as him.
“He needs someone to talk to and I literally get paid to be that guy. I’m just awfully good at it.”
“Uh-huh. Where is he now, anyway?”
“Sculpting course. He gets really into it so it was safe to come talk to you.”
Jisung is giving him that funny look again.
“It’s so crazy that you know his schedule down to when he is not going to be in the building. I’m just saying.”
“Alright I’m leaving.” Minho begins moving as the tennis ball rolls his way one last time. “Nice talk. Behave for me, okay?”
“Is the car freshener you?”
Minho feels as nonplussed as he could be as he turns, right by the door. Jisung doesn’t look like he is going to elaborate any more than that.
“The what, now?”
“Mint, peppermint, whatever that is that Hyunjin’s stuff smells like lately. I thought he’d bought some shitty cologne to mask his scent or something. The one time I told him to use scent blockers he nearly stabbed me in the eye with a brush—”
“Goodbye, Jisung-ah.” Minho closes the door behind him before he hears the end of that. No. Just no. He’s hell bent on not giving whatever that last thing was any thought, but still, once he’s back in the dormoffice he stares around. And.
He can see one of Hyunjin’s pens sneaked in between Minho’s by the cup on the desk. They were there before he moved in and he doesn’t really use any of them, but Hyunjin left one of his own the one time he mindlessly grabbed for one of the pens to draw and they discovered they’re all dried.
(Don’t you ever write anything? How could you not know?
I’m more of the reading kind, in case you didn’t notice.)
Thinking of that makes him look to the side. Hyunjin is kind of chaotic in thinking but pretty well put together in practice, so he helped Minho rearrange his books recently. They’re by genre now and Minho ends up gravitating towards the teeny tiny section of light novels he has and that Hyunjin loves.
There’s an obnoxious pink bookmark peeking in between the top of his books. He doesn’t remember that being there.
Minho’s books smell of spearmint and a bit of pinewood, the same way all he owns does. Earthy and somewhat comforting (or at least that’s what some people have told him), and decisively not like car freshener. He is kind of horrified, however, when he pulls out the book that has the bookmark in it and he gets a whiff of something tropical.
He hesitates, for a second of two. But he ends up holding the book under his nose, with the bookmark tickling his cheek as he breathes deeply. It’s chilling, the way he suddenly feels like Hyunjin is pressed between him and his bookshelf.
Well, shit.
♥
Minho starts getting drunk texts from Hyunjin fairly quickly once he befriends Jisung. It should not and it does not worry him too much since getting shitfaced every other day is all that college kids do, but he gets sent rather… conspicuous sort of texts.
It’s funny enough at first. He sees Hyunjin somewhat tipsy in the hall one night and forces him to exchange numbers (Minho takes his responsibility over these kids seriously), and the next time he gets drunk Minho gets a string of the most ridiculous texts ever at rather unholy hours of the night.
Hyuuuuugh
ng
Lino hyunnng
Where r u
Im sbored
I tried talking novels with some guy
Noone here has read malice :((
Theyre so stupid u should be here
Honestly, Minho should not feel as flattered as he does, but nonetheless. He doesn’t really see Hyunjin around much anymore so it gives him an odd sense of satisfaction knowing he has such a presence in his thoughts, that Hyunjin feels the need to tell Minho about it at his most vulnerable. He barely gives any energy back through those texts besides making sure Hyunjin makes it home safe. He doesn’t tell him to stop.
The rest of the dormitory is fine. Minho has to resolve the occasional quarrel and remind everyone to play nice with each other, and the biggest complaint he gets from the rest of the floor is over how much more annoying Paint Boy and Guitar Boy are now as a unit.
“I don’t know what you did but it seems to be working. I think Hyunjin and Jisung are plotting together now.”
Minho hums, eyes glued to the three writing dots showing on and off on his phone screen. “So I heard. You sure you don’t want the tennis ball back?”
“Keep it, Hongjoong forgot that one on my car but he has tons of others. I’m sure you will need something else to keep you entertained now, anyway.”
Minho looks up lazily at Seonghwa. His elder slurps rather loudly from a plastic cup in front of him on the table, big doeful eyes staring like he knows something Minho doesn’t.
“Gee, thanks. It sure sounds like you were so worried about them.”
Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “I had a feeling. You’re rather good at this job, despite how much you seem to hate people.”
Minho’s phone pings, nearly on cue with that. He turns the screen back on again (not without eyeing his hyung suspiciously for a second or two).
Hyung look!
[file attached]
Minho opens it. It’s Hyunjin’s hand, holding a shiny, expensive looking pair of car keys. Minho raises his eyebrows at the screen.
You can drive?
That’s new.
Don’t be a jerk!!
I’ll learn hehe
Minho has a sixth sense for trouble, it seems. However good Hyunjin might be, at the end of the day he’s still the spoiled child of some money-rotten family out there, so it can’t be good that his very rich parents gift him a very pricely car out of the blue.
The telltale sound of air being sucked through a straw warns him that Seonghwa is done with his drink. “You sure seem to have everything under control. Keep it up!”
Minho does not keep up.
The funny tipsy texts come to halt about a fortnight after that, as winter break inches closer. With finals breathing down everyone’s necks his kids are both more stressed but also more prone to disaster, he supposes. So Minho has a few weeks of relative peace and quiet on the floor, right up until a night when he’s woken up by his phone buzzing like crazy on the nightstand.
He blindly makes a grab for it, letting it buzz for another full minute and wondering why he didn’t turn it off for the night. When he grabs it it's quiet again, although the screen lights up right on his face, showing a string of urgent texts flowing on the task bar. He frowns when he can make out Hyunjin’s name on them.
Minho barely has any time to piece those few things together when the phone starts buzzing again. It’s clearly Hyunjin’s name on display now, so despite how disoriented he feels, he picks up right away and grumbly goes, “Are you okay?”
“Minho hyung!” That’s not Hyunjin. Minho can nearly feel Han Jisung’s relieved breath through the phone. “Thank God, I thought you were a heavy sleeper. You’re at the dorm, right?”
“Yes.” And feeling stiffer by the second. “Why do you have Hyunjin’s phone? Where is he?”
“He’s right here!” Smart kid. There’s some rustling and then he can hear Hyunjin’s voice whining next to the phone.
“I said go away!”
“It’s Minho, you dumbwit. Say something to him.”
“To fuck off!” He sounds drunk. “Leave me alone already.”
By now Minho is sitting up tying his shoes, so he doesn’t really mind the two kids bickering through the line, but he is beginning to get impatient as to getting answers for his earlier question. “Where are you two, Jisung?”
“In the parking lot. We’re inside the building but Jinnie won’t—stop hitting me!—he doesn’t want to get out of the car and I really need some help here, hyung. Can you come?”
Minho stays on the line as he makes his way down the elevator, barely dressed in running joggers and a hoodie. He is grateful (for the first and only time) that Hyunjin’s parents went above and beyond in buying him a ludicrously expensive car, shiny and ominous from afar in the underground parking. He sees the pilot door open and what he guesses is Jisung’s form halfway out, struggling with the inside. By the time he nears the car Jisung miraculously misses getting kicked in the head by a sneaker.
“Jisung,” Minho stares, just barely glad to kind of see that both of them are okay. “Why are you not upstairs? What’s going on?”
“Is that Minho hyung?” he hears from inside the car, and the shoe retracts itself. Jisung stares indignantly at it for a moment before turning to Minho.
“He drank too much and has been a nuisance all night, I practically had to drag him back to campus.”
“I said you could leave wherever you wanted.”
“You can’t drive like this!” Jisung nearly gets red when he turns back to the car, so Minho guesses this is not the first time through the night he has said these words. Nevermind that neither of them should be driving, either.
“We’re here already, what does it matter?”
“You know what?” Jisung raises up his hands in defeat. “Have it your way! Sleep here.” He fully gets out of the car then, lightly slamming the door. He leans on it as he turns around, both hands covering his face before he groans. Loudly. It echoes a little in the silence of the parking lot.
So. Minho is still awkwardly standing to the side. He clears his throat.
“Jisung. Why am I here?”
The younger straightens up, frustration dead and gone and desperation (perhaps dashed with a bit of worry) taking hold in his eyes.
“I need you to take him back to the dorm. Please,” he adds, probably reading the trouble on Minho’s face. “I don’t know what's up with him today but he just won’t listen to me. I didn’t want to drag him back up kicking and screaming, we’re gonna get in so much trouble that way.”
“I don’t think you’re strong enough to do that anyway.”
“I know!” Jisung hisses, not even bothering with getting offended. “Just. Do something Minho hyung, please. He listens to you just fine.”
Minho frowns. He may digress but it’s so late, he would rather not argue with anyone in the middle of the school parking at this hour. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving Hyunjin drunken and alone either, at high risk of running into anybody else from the staff and getting himself in some real trouble for missing curfew. And a few other rules from the code of conduct about drinking, misbehaving and so forth.
Jisung keens. “Please.”
“Alright okay, please don’t start crying.” Minho steps up and slowly, carefully, peeks his head towards the window. It has one of those pitch black screens that don’t show the inside so he only gets a headshot of his own eyebags and blond hair. He sighs. “Why did you two have to take the audi? Why not just pay an uber?”
“Hyunjin? Inside an uber?”
Despite how tense they both are, Jisung manages to make them laugh.
“Go to bed,” Minho tells him, ruffling his head. He sees Jisung’s shoulders relax, the whiff of sourness on his hair fading, and dares to scratch at the back of his neck a little. Jisung’s eyes flutter and then he’s off, on his way to the elevator.
Minho is on his own now.
He’s used up all the patience he can muster after being woken up mid-sleep, so next thing he does once Jisung is out of sight is knock his knuckles on the window of the car.
“I’m coming in,” he warns, as loud as he dares without outright screaming. He makes a grab for the handle and pulls the door open before he can think on it too hard.
The barely there hint of wildberries tells him it was Jisung driving, but the whole cabin smells so sweet it makes Minho dizzy. Sweet in a distinctively alcoholic way, like one of those tropical, colorful cocktails that get served with a paper parasol that Minho hates. Hyunjin has his feet up on the dash, sprawled on the other seat like he really does plan to just sleep it out in here. His eyes are stark open as he looks forward though, toying with the keys on his lap.
“I thought you two were getting along.” Minho starts there, slowly getting himself comfortable behind the wheel. He has a feeling this will take a while. “Why is Jisung driving you around if you still hate his guts?”
Hyunjin stays quiet. It’s just the sound of the car keys for a beat, so Minho has time to take in of how red Hyunjin’s face is thanks to the alcohol, his hair finally beginning to reach into his eyes (a stark contrast to the razor cut he waltzed with into the university when he got transferred), the ridiculous amount of digital buttons the dashboard has. Technology is beginning to get past him.
“Suit yourself. Maybe I can call him back and have him narrate whatever embarrassing shit you were pulling out there. What was it that he said about having to drag you out?”
“Go away.” Hyunjin turns his head to the window. The few metal bars dangling from his ear wink under the mute carlight. He must take those off during school hours, Minho guesses. That’s depressing.
“I can sleep right here next to you all night and have you be responsible for me developing scoliosis,” he goes again, fully leaning into the seat. It’s surprisingly not uncomfortable at all. “Or you can tell me what’s going on. It’s your pick.”
The silence is shorter this time. Then, curtly, “If I do that will you leave me alone?”
“Depends on what I hear, but sure.”
Hyunjin gives him the evil eye from the reflection. He looks really tired and reeks of trouble, now more than ever before, and it makes every minute Minho has to sit still without reaching for him an impressive test of endurance on his part. Hyunjin blinks back towards the glass before saying anything, sighing so hard his breath fogs it up a little.
“You know how I have to meet my parents for the holidays.”
Minho nods. “So does everybody else, yeah.”
He gets the stare once again at that. He is aware that Hyunjin’s relationship with his parents isn’t all that good, but it can’t be monstrous enough for him to rather stay on campus. Or perhaps Minho doesn’t know shit.
“There’s some guy they want me to date.”
Oh. Minho feels himself tense up, pinewood flaring up suddenly from where he’s sitting and okay, yeah, perhaps it comes off like capping off a can of mints right under your nose. Screw Han Jisung.
“They reeeeally like him. Broke the news after they gave me the car.”
Hyunjin is back at not looking at him and maybe it’s for the best, that he misses the way Minho’s face twitches before he gets a grip and stares forward into the gloom. Minho ends up sitting up and leaning on the wheel, not really knowing what to do with himself. This is a good thing. Hyunjin wanted to get mated, right? It’s what he needs. He should stop being all miserable then.
It sure doesn’t sound like so.
“Isn’t that good?” Minho dares say, after a while. He’s aware that he doesn’t sound that convincing either. “He must be nice.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Hyunjin snorts and Minho is reminded sharply of the fact that he’s drunk off his ass. “We’re supposed to meet for Seollal. All I know is he’s son of someone dad works with and they’re arranging everything for us to tie the knot or whatever. Meeting him is just a formality at this point.”
The parking lot blurs in front of Minho after that, with his grip on the steering wheel tighter. So they tried to buy Hyunjin’s cunt with a car. For some fucker he doesn’t even know. Fucking splendid parenting that is.
“You have never seen this guy before?”
“‘Course not. I’ve been here with you, remember? They got him sending me letters and everything.”
With you.
Several things click for Minho then, with Hyunjin’s moodiness and drunk messages the past few weeks making much more sense. He starts feeling rather stupid as well, once the sending me letters part also point him to the fact that this has been going for a while—the distant courting from whoever the fuck that is. They must have told the guy Hyunjin is a romantic.
Bastard has a long way to go if he thinks some sappy letters will suffice to break it with someone as stubborn as Hyunjin, anyway. It’s his parents he can never bring himself to say no to, but everybody else he has no trouble telling to piss off. Minho gets a sour sort of satisfaction at that. Hyunjin clearly does not want anything to do with that guy. Good.
“You smell funny.”
Minho’s head turns sharply to the right. Hyunjin leans his head on the window glass, but he’s fully turned towards him now. The way he’s staring makes the hint of fangs itch on Minhos’ gums.
“I’m tired,” he manages, not bothering to lie. He’s still gripping on the wheel and Hyunjin is still looking at him like Minho’s some sort of dessert. “So what are you going to do?”
“I knew you would get angry.”
Minho frowns. “Hyunjin.”
“Play along, I guess,” he shrugs, like he truly does not give a fuck. “See where it goes. I was wondering whether you’d notice after new years.”
“It’s not my problem.” He’s gritting his teeth. This whole conversation has been going for too long. “Do you really want to go down the arranged relationship gig? That’s what matters. You shouldn't give a shit what I think.”
“Hyung,” Hyunjin moves through the dash, reaching to support himself on Minho’s side and Minho knows this is all happening rather quickly, but it feels like watching a slowmo video of Hyunjin landing a hand on Minho’s thigh to get closer. He’s lucid enough not to squeeze. “I care so much. It’s the only thing I’ve been caring about for the past months. Don’t you know?”
His face is much closer now and Minho can see a trace of smudged eyeliner and glitter, and glossy, beautiful lips that pour out so much liquor it’s making him depressed. He hears distantly how Hyunjin’s knee lands on something it probably shouldn’t, vaguely glad that the car is turned off.
Hyunjin tilts his head and pouts. “Don’t you like me?”
Fuck yes. Minho swallows, doing his best to word what he wants to say as gently as possible. “You’re drunk. And you just told me your parents want you to get together with some guy. I want you to think that one over.”
“I don’t want to.”
Minho goes to say then don’t but Hyunjin throws “I want you!” at the same time and he can barely hear himself. He gets so startled it takes him a second too long to realize Hyunjin is also leaning right into his face, to kiss him probably.
Minho ducks into the seat.
It’s the least suave thing he’s done to anybody ever but panic is what makes him let go of the wheel and lean away. Hyunjin yelps and falls into his lap, gracelessly, and then he just. Groans and stays there.
“Why don’t you like me, hyung,” he says to the seat, and it helps Minho wake up as to how ridiculous this is all turning. He breathes. Shakes a leg.
“Get up. You need to sleep.”
Hyunjin groans again, goes to nuzzle the inside of Minho’s thighs and okay he’s had enough for a night. He makes a grab for the back of Hyunjin’s shirt and pulls lightly, and luckily it is enough for him to turn up. He stays sprawled on Minho’s legs but at least he’s looking up now.
“Am I not pretty enough? Is that it?”
“Please get up.”
“Are you straight?”
“No.” That comes out a bit too stern. Hyunjin blinks up a few times at him and then his lip trembles. He can’t seriously be doing this to Minho. “Please don’t start crying.”
Against his better judgement, he reaches a hand to caress Hyunjin’s cheek before the tears actually pour out. His face feels warm and a bit sticky from the sweat and makeup. Hyunjin leans into his hand and Minho allows it for a while, grateful for the space for both of them to calm down. He thinks he might end up wasted as well just by the alcohol reeking out of Hyunjin.
“If you don’t want to go through with that then don’t lead the guy on,” Minho says finally, gentler. Hyunjin’s lashes are tickling his thumb. “Talk to your parents when you meet them. Throw a tantrum. They can’t physically or legally force you to do anything. Are they even aware it’s the 21st century?”
Hyunjin giggles. His mouth ghosts over Minho’s wrist. “I don’t think so. But thanks.”
Minho should pull away now. But he doesn’t, so there is no reason for Hyunjin to stop nuzzling his face on his wrist. The hair on Minho’s arm raises up as, suddenly, the smell of breezy summer drinks overpowers the alcohol reeking in the cabin. Or perhaps it doesn’t, but it’s all that Minho feels around himself for a moment. Light and not overtly sweet.
It takes a few minutes of Hyunjin scenting him for him to finally agree to get out of the car. He stumbles on his way off, in and out of the elevator, and clings to Minho’s hoodie all the way to his dorm. If Jisung is awake when they get in he doesn’t say anything. If Hyunjin’s clothes smell too much of spearmint as well he hopes none of them take notice either.
♥
The three of them do a spectacular job at pretending that last night never happened. It’s Jisung doing most of the job, probably, making sure Hyunjin stays busy for what’s left of the month they still have at campus for the year. A few other students show up at the dormoffice as the year end stress spreads around the dorm and Minho keeps busy.
It has been long enough for Minho’s books to no longer smell like Hyunjin, and quite a few days of absolute radio silence from him through text, that Minho thinks this truly might be it, for the best. So, to say he’s surprised when Hyunjin asks him to be his driving buddy would be an understatement.
Despite Minho’s initial thoughts, Hyunjin hasn’t used that monstrous car that much, and it seems he actually intends to learn how to drive it properly. He deems it a miracle the two kids didn’t crash into something the other night, and does Hyunjin the favor of approving permission for someone to give him driving lessons in the parking lot. As with most things, Hyunjin is a pretty fast learner once he seriously sets his mind onto something, so besides his tutor, he asks Minho to be there sometimes just to keep him company as he practices.
He’s either an incredible actor, does not remember shit of what he does or says when he drinks, or is much more mature than Minho gave him credit for. Whichever option it is—and despite him ignoring Minho’s physical presence for a forthnight—, he never brings it up.
Minho doesn’t personally find out what happened to Hyunjin’s parents' plan for him, but Jisung snitches that Hyunjin kicked him out of the dorm one day and had some big fight on the phone with them. He locks in on everything school related and starts talking to Minho again after it.
Funnily enough, he still has the tennis ball.
He’s fiddling with it in a pocket of his dress pants the first time Hyunjin asks him to come down and let him drive Minho around. Minho raises a skeptical eyebrow at his junior as he circles the car.
“And you want me to do what, exactly?”
“I don’t know, tell me about whatever mystery novel you’re reading right now and yell if I make a turn too sharp. You’ve never had any trouble scolding me.”
Minho stops pacing and gives him a stare. He finds Hyunjin leaning on the car and looking way too smug for his own good so he decides to get in before he thinks too much of it all. It’s starting to feel like he’s getting wooed so he pulls open the backseat door and drapes himself there as unceremoniously as possible.
“I also read nonfiction, you know. It would do you some good to do the same.”
“Are you accusing me of being one of those performative readers?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
“Whatever. Nana has all the life lessons I could seek for anyway.”
Minho wonders whether Hyunjin realizes he left the tennis ball back there once they’re done. If he’s going to ask Minho to come looking for it, or give it back himself. He’s so sure that the whole driving around scheme is a one time thing, that’s the only reason he should ever be inside that car again.
Hyunjin asks him to come by several other times. His driving is getting better. The tennis ball does not get mentioned nor does Minho see it anywhere visible, although he makes a habit of laying down in the back seat while he’s there. Hyunjin doesn’t really comment on it either.
He’s crazy talkative about everything and anything else, as per usual.
“Turns out Chan is a really nice guy,” he’s saying one day, rambling on about the Jisung-scapades. He gets warned before they happen now. “And he’s crazy about Hannie too. I have no idea how that happened.”
In Hyunjin talk, that means he’s happy for his roommate. Hyunjin likes pretending he still can’t stand the sight of him, but Minho is rather proud at having seen them sort their thing out. He hums, lulled gently by the car turning slowly in the parking lot. The Chan guy hasn’t showed up much lately so he must care about Jisung getting good grades.
“Hannie wants me to go out with them next week, I think they want to hook me up with one of Chan’s friends before winter break.”
Minho blinks his eyes open with a start at that. Huh. It never occurred to him that Hyunjin must still be on the hunt for a date.
He makes a grab for the headrest and sits up, groggily. “What?”
“I don’t know, a guy he meets at the gym I think. Hanbin or something like that.” Hyunjin snorts, blissfully unaware of how tense his hyung is getting as he goes on. “Gym alphas is the last place I would’ve gone looking for, but it turned out okay for Hannie, so what the hell. It might serve to piss off my parents if I bring him for the holidays.”
“No.”
“No what?”
“You’re not going.”
Hyunjin wasn’t really paying him attention at first, eyes focused on the columns ahead as he turns in the parking lot. But he eyes coldly at Minho through the rearview mirror after that. “What?”
Minho considers himself a pretty laid-back guy, for an alpha. He has never felt the need to be possessive over anything in his life before, having it all laid out to take but being too lazy to do it most of the time. He realizes now how costly that might be, with Hyunjin’s sweet and sating scent starting to sour fast inside the car. He will really go all the way until he finds some barely decent knothead that gives him what he wants, won’t he?
“You’re not going,” Minho says again, slower. His privileged position from the backseat of the car allows him to see the hair at Hyunjin’s nape stand up. “You’re not supposed to date anyone while you’re studying here. School’s rules.”
He sees now how smart Hyunjin’s parents were with the whole epistolary relationship gag. Curse them.
“Since when do you care about that? Jisung has Chan!” Hyunjin’s voice goes higher and Minho tries not to sigh too loud, or roll his eyes or do something else that might put him at risk while the kid is driving. “And he’s happy! Why can’t I do the same?”
“Because I say so.”
Minho nearly gets thrown forward when Hyunjin hits the break. He holds onto the back of the driver’s seat so he doesn’t fall as Hyunjin moves the gear, drives back up and parks somehow safe enough to not kill either of them. He turns on the seat and snarls right on Minho’s face a second after that.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? So I’m not allowed to be happy?”
Despite how mad he sounds, he’s shaking. His knuckles turn white where he’s holding onto the leather and it’s kind of cute, the way he’s trying his best at presenting himself like he might actually have it in him to go toe to toe with Minho right now.
Minho is not allowing him to twist his words, though. He frowns. “That’s not what I said.”
“Why do you care? You don’t even want me!”
Now that’s just a lie. But Minho has been getting himself knee-deep in it for months now so he kind of has to stick with it, for dignity’s sake. If he still has any of that, considering what he just got himself into. He’s been coddling Hyunjin for too long. He should’ve told Jisung to fuck off that night. Suspension would have probably been the best for both of them.
He thinks and he thinks some more, feeling a muscle at his jaw twitch. He should yield, or own up to his mistakes, at least.
“I don’t want you slutting up the place when you come back stinking of dumbwit alpha.”
Instead, he doubles down.
He doesn’t mean it. It comes out, nonetheless, and Hyunjin gapes at him, speechless. He’s turning white.
“Excuse me?”
“You will let him knot you on the first go, maybe even mate you because of how desperate you are—”
“Shut up!”
“...and then I will have to clean up everything around here for you, as I always do.”
There’s a flash of something moving and then a loud, god-awful sound as Hyunjin slaps Minho, hard enough for his head to turn.
So Hyunjin does have it in him, then.
Minho would probably stumble back if he could, but as of now surprise forces him back into the seat, so shocked it takes him a few seconds to register how much his face is burning. He brings a hand up to it, winces, and then he finally dares to look at Hyunjin, staring back like he can’t quite believe he did that either. It’s eerily quiet for a bit after that.
He’s about to say something really nasty—instead of apologizing or getting out of the fucking car, as he should have some time ago—when the whole thing shakes as Hyunjin crawls in between the seats to launch himself at him.
“Ow! Hyunjin what the fuck!”
Minho never had to physically fight an omega off in his life so at first he doesn’t really know what to do, lacking what it takes to hurt Hyunjin even as the boy does his best to hit him. He’s not a complete asshole. But then Hyunjin’s blunt nails scratch at his face and he has no other choice but grab his wrists and pull him off, be it by force or not. There isn’t really much of a fight but lots of cursing as Minho flips them around and then has Hyunjin pinned under him on the car seat.
“Let go of me!”
“Then stay still!”
Hyunjin should be grateful Minho isn’t resorting to the use of his alpha voice, no matter how tempting it might be. Once the initial shock settles he doesn’t really need it anyway, with Hyunjin’s noodle-like proportions doing nothing to help him get Minho off of him. He keeps on wriggling though, calling Minho all sorts of horrible things that he probably deserves.
“I hate you! Let me go, you stink!”
“Oh and you’re such a peach right now, are you?”
It comes out gruffier than it should and that’s when Minho realizes his fangs are tickling his lip, halfway out with how much they’re struggling. He sounds shy of monstrous all of a sudden, but it’s also what gets Hyunjin to stop fighting back, freezing in place. His eyes are shiny and his tie half unmade, collarbone peeking from under the dress shirt. He smells… not scared but definitely perked up, like a rabbit way too comfortable with being cornered in its burrow.
Minho hears himself growling. “Stop that.”
Hyunjin’s eyes sharpen again and then he’s moving around for an entirely different reason, not trying to break free but seizing how close they are now. His knee is pushed up high into the back of the seat and Minho can feel the other one next to his hipbone, dangerously close to caging him in.
“Is this what you wanted?” Hyunjin huffs, shaking one of his hands like he’s signaling Minho is gripping him too hard. He falls for it, unfortunately, and moves to still him by the forearm. He needs his hands. He paints. “You’re one of those freaks who likes it when we fight?”
“Be quiet.”
“Is that why you couldn’t get it up the other night?”
“Hyunjin.” He leans closer, forgetting he’s right in between the omega’s legs. He parts them away a little more and hears Hyunjin gasp faintly, “I want you to stop teasing me. I am going to get out, we will both forget this ever happened, and you will not look for me again.”
“Because that worked so well last time, didn’t it?”
Minho is running out of things to say. It doesn’t help that Hyunjin keeps wriggling around, arching when something hard brushes Minho’s hip. Those slacks fit him too well to be the regular uniform, he decides. Minho should have said something about them earlier, so he wouldn’t be thinking how expensive they’d be to replace if he were to rip through them right now to give Hyunjin what he deserves. What his scent and his entire body seems to be screaming for right now, thick and heavy and—
Minho feels his eyelids fluttering.
“So you can tell me no but other alphas don’t even get a chance with me?”
He leans closer, shakes his head. “No.”
Hyunjin’s breath is close, tickling his cheek as he keeps going. “Why not?”
Minho doesn’t like how brave the little brat is getting, bossing him around. He tries to move, to say something, and when he moves his head he feels a tongue darting to lick at the corner of his mouth. He can’t help it, really, when he outright snarls and moves a hand to grip Hyunjin by the jaw. Minho leans his full weight on him as he darts at the omega’s neck and licks a long, wet stripe right on his scent gland.
Hyunjin whines high, somewhere, but Minho doesn’t really care anymore, making sure he stays still as he laps at his neck. His other hand moves down, blunt nails scratching at Hyunjin’s arm, tugging at his shirt, not fully satisfied until he finds a thigh and kneads into it. The fabric is soft and he can almost feel Hyunjin’s skin through it. Almost.
“Hyung—”
“Shut up.” Minho pulls away, if only to grip Hyunjin by the hips and pull him into his lap. He groans at finally having something to rut into, nosing down Hyunjin’s neck. He’s so sweet, tasting even better than he smells and fully himself, despite all the talk about hooking up with other guys. Minho pulls at the tie, breaks a button and gets his tongue above heartbeat, smugness pouring out of him in waves at realizing he got here first. At least that’s what he tells himself.
“Hyung.” Why does he keep complaining? “Fuck, wait, my clothes—”
Something snakes in between them and pulls down a zipper, paws weakly at the less than subtle line of Minho’s hardening cock and now he’s shaking like some goddamned teenager. He’s weak and a coward and so he pulls away again and flips Hyunjin face-first into the seat, only lightly enjoying the way he yelps, all high and offended.
“Minho hyung!”
“Don’t you like me?” He says, rutting into Hyunjin’s clothed ass. He’s well aware he’s mocking Hyunjin’s drunken request from weeks ago, almost beaming at feeling Hyunjin struggle under him. The one request that’s been hauting Minho in his sleep, fighting not to fuck his fist into because he knew there was no coming back from that.
This is taking too long. He fists Hyunjin’s nape and pulls him halfway up. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” he gasps, a hand flying to support himself on something. It lands with an obscene slap on the window. “Please.”
Minho thinks again of those stupid pants and decides to have some mercy, pushing Hyunjin’s face back into the leather and leaning away so he can pull his hips up, presenting. He can see Hyunjin’s ears turning red from here, all flustered little gasps as Minho gets his hands inside his pants and pulls them off oh so carefully.
Just in time as well, with the thick smell of slick invading the car the second that layer is pushed away just enough to reveal underwear. They’re beginning to stick to Hyunjin’s ass, straining his dick and poor, little, bratty omega, really. Minho grants him the honor of sneaking a hand under the cloth, spreads his cheeks and feels his hand getting soaked through. The brat starts wailing then.
“Min-ah please, please, please…"
Minho licks at his own slick-covered hand once he lets go, finding some strength there to not rip through Hyunjin’s boxers and pulling them away instead. He gets a glimpse of Hyunjin’s tip on the process, wet and neglected and he makes a grab for Hyunjin's jacket from somewhere on the front, leaving it under him and on the seat before Hyunjin starts leaking. He goes to free himself, finally, when some clarity comes into his head. No condom. Shit.
Hyunjin starts whining again and, oh well. They’ll figure it out.
At first Minho only holds him by the waist, making sure he stays up as he fucks into Hyunjin hard, mechanical and with no build up for the ladder to get comfortable. And Hyunjin makes no complaint that Minho can hear from his side, scrambling around in between moans. The car shakes around them or maybe that’s just Minho’s wishful thinking, begging for some unfortunate cunt to walk in on them so he can finally get fired and bolt out with Hyunjin hanging on his cock.
Hyunjin manages to garble some nonsense with his name mixed in, tries to look back and he looks so desperate, barely managing to stay on all fours and asking for something he can’t quite name, and then Minho’s eyes land on his neck, the tie loosely hanging around it still, and when Minho licks his lips he feels teeth.
No. No. He grunts, stops, and leans forward to push Hyunjin down by the neck with a hand. For support, to stop himself from reaching way too far and whatever else, and then he’s ramming in again, panting like a dog. It’s satisfying, finally getting Hyunjin to shut his mouth for a good while, his pretty lips just managing to make little aborted sounds as he tries to breathe with half his face smudged into the leather. It’s beginning to get cramped for real and Minho can see his breath fogging up the window, meeting rabid eyes when he dares to look further up. So much for guarding Hyunjin from brute knotheads.
It’s only so long after that. The beginning of his knot starts catching on Hyunjin’s rim and he accepts that this is as far as he can go now with a pained groan. He pulls out.
“Nooooo.”
Hyunjin is writhing under him, literally begging him to get back in and stuff him full but Minho’s not about to nut himself into a litter of tinier brats, thank you very much.
He turns Hyunjin around again and has the incredible full front view of his leaking cock, his ruined shirt and his teary, desperate face as an incentive to jerk off into oblivion on top of him. He coats Hyunjin’s chest white and holds somewhere close so he doesn’t collapse on top of him, shaking all over and harder than he’s ever had in an orgasm, probably.
“Hyung.”
It is not over yet.
“M-minho-hyung.”
He’s fighting for his life here trying to keep his eyes open, taking too long to realize Hyunjin is free to do as he pleases now, but he stays hung and flushed, waiting.
Minho swallows thickly. “Does Hyunjinie need hyung to help?”
Hyunjin nods, weekly. Like he’s too tired to move. Minho might be a bastard but he’s a responsible alpha, so he gets his hand in between Hyunjin’s legs and feels him clench around air, whining while Minho lubes himself up. He wraps his palm around Hyunjin’s shaft.
“Do you want to cum, baby?”
He can see it’s taking everything in Hyunjin not to close his eyes, shaking like crazy on the seat. Minho holds his hip still, leans his forehead on Hyunjin’s.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to paint me something pretty once?”
That makes Hyunjin smile. It takes a little more praise but he finished content, as sated as any of them can be without a knot making sure Minho stays where he is for a while.
This is the second time in the day (hell, the semester) that some clarity graces Minho. Hyunjin has no reason to believe he is going to stay. He didn’t even dare touch him as Minho left his mark everywhere.
They will have to work on that.
“I’m sorry,” Minho is saying after a while, licking more apologetically into Hyunjin’s scent gland. He doubts he will ever be satisfied, as long as Hyunjin still has to walk around and brush into other people on his way around the university. Hyunjin shakes in his grasp, still not making a move until Minho grabs his arm and pulls it around himself, and then Hyunjin’s entire body is hoarding him, a relieved breath coming out of him at last. “Next time I’ll knot you into next week. Won’t be able to walk around without feeling me in.”
Hyunjin hums. He sounds unimpressed. “This shirt was custom, you know.” He slurs, like Minho gives a fuck. “Had my initials somewhere.”
“It has my cum now so it’s a collectors item.”
“My dad is going to be so pissed.”
Minho stirs, growling lowly and rubbing his half hard dick into Hyunjin’s. The younger whines. “Don’t talk to me about your dad now, Christ.”
“Do you want to go home with me for Christmas? They’ll have a heart attack and we can fuck in all the guest rooms you want.”
Minho ends up covering Hyunjin’s mouth with his hand. He’ll go. He doesn’t really have a choice now. He’s close to doom spiraling in how much of a disappointment he’s going to be to those snobby parents, but then Hyunjin is licking at his palm and his dick twitches. It hits him that he hasn’t kissed Hyunjin yet.
He can still knot his mouth as a first, too.