Work Text:
The first one to seek him out is Seungkwan, and Junhui doesn’t see it coming at all.
In the hallway backstage after a performance, Seungkwan shuffles to catch up with Junhui’s long-legged stride.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks, slightly out of breath, once he’s by Junhui’s side. “I want your advice on something. When you get a moment.”
There’s a hint of desperation to Seungkwan's voice, well-hidden under his usual bravado. “Sure,” Junhui says, a bit concerned. He lowers his voice. “Um, how about once we’re at the dorm?”
“Right,” Seungkwan says, nodding. He falls back in with the rest of the group, and Junhui resumes kicking at Seokmin’s ankles and then feigning confusion when Seokmin turns around to glare at him.
&&
“I’d like your advice,” Seungkwan repeats, when they’re alone later on the dorm balcony. He fidgets where he’s leaning up against the railing, and Junhui fidgets in kind from one of the balcony’s uncomfortable plastic chairs.
“On dancing?” Junhui asks, joking but not really joking at all. He’s been thinking about this since Seungkwan came up to him earlier, and still hasn’t figured out what he has to offer on in terms of advice that doesn’t pertain specifically to dancing, speaking Mandarin, or pushing his chin-length hair away from his face while sexily staring into a camera.
Seungkwan shakes his head gravely.
“I like someone,” he says.
Um. Well.
“Okay,” Junhui says, not sure where this is going.
Seungkwan lets out a huff of air, like he’s preparing for something. Junhui finds himself getting nervous too.
“It’s a member,” he says.
It’s a member.
”It’s a mem-- what?” Junhui finally splutters. “Are you-- what? Seungkwan, I-- it’s a member?”
“What do I do,” Seungkwan asks plaintively, ignoring Junhui’s question. “I really like him, and I don’t even know where to begin! It could go wrong in so many ways-- what a nightmare-- we all live together, and I don’t even know if he likes guys--“
“What is going on,” Junhui asks the universe. Seungkwan, at least, doesn’t even hear.
“Do I make him jealous? Do I have someone talk to him for me? How about getting him drunk? That always works on the dramas. What do you think about me getting him drunk?”
“You like guys?” Junhui asks belatedly.
Seungkwan stares at him blankly.
Apparently he’s a couple steps behind. When Junhui’s mind does catch up a moment later, it responds by running wild with all of the possible members Seungkwan could have his crush on. There’s a lot of people to consider. Thirteen members, whose idea was that? Why are there so many of them?
Junhui finally breaks from his reverie to find Seungkwan looking at him expectantly.
“So,” Seungkwan repeats, “what do you think? Which idea?”
Junhui has no idea what’s going on. He is not qualified to give advice here. He has no clue how to guide a love connection, he’s not particularly well-known for taking things seriously, and, perhaps most importantly, this situation does not fall into any of his three areas of expertise noted earlier (to reiterate: dancing, Mandarin, pushing back hair and giving sexy look).
Seungkwan is still looking at him expectantly, so Junhui tries to contribute.
“Tell him...that you like him?” he attempts feebly.
Seungkwan stares back at him.
“No,” he dismisses immediately, and then returns to his vault of ideas. “I think the jealousy thing would work. Maybe mixed with the drunk confession thing, if necessary. Net time we go out, why don’t you help me get everyone drunk and then we’ll--“
“No!” Junhui blurts desperately. Junhui may not be an expert, but at least he knows that any of those ideas, especially in combination, are guaranteed to result in disaster.
Seungkwan stops, and something clicks for Junhui.
“Tell him,” Junhui insists again. “Tell him how you feel.”
If Seungkwan’s stankface is anything to go by, he remains deeply disappointed by this suggestion.
“No, I mean it.” Junhui takes a deep breath. “Tell him. Just, really simply. Be honest. When it’s just the two of you, be like, ‘Look, I like you. A lot. It’s ok if you don’t like me back or if you don’t like guys. I just wanted to be honest with you.’ And leave it at that.”
Seungkwan quirks an intrigued eyebrow.
“Maybe he’ll say he’s into you too, or that he’s open to the idea, or something,” Junhui continues. “Or maybe he’ll just politely say he’s not interested. Whatever. EIther way you’ll be the one who was casual about it, so it’ll be fine.”
Seungkwan leans back, considering this. Junhui nods to himself nervously.
“Actually,” Seungkwan finally says, “that could work.”
“Damn right it could,” Junhui says automatically. If he truly believes anything deep down, though, it’s that being straightforward is probably the best answer to most issues.
“I think I’ll do that.” Seungkwan’s thoughtful expression changes and his eyes light up, part with excitement, and part, Junhui can see, with nervousness. This is no small thing he’s thinking of doing.
They stay where they are for a moment, both contemplating the consequences.
“Thank you,” Seungkwan says suddenly, very sincerely. “This really helped.”
“Oh.” Junhui is taken aback. “Sure. I mean, no problem.”
“I knew I could talk to you about this.” Seungkwan smiles warmly. He pats his hands against his thighs with finality, and then gets off the railing, moving into the dorm. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Invite me to the wedding,” Junhui adds, still somewhat in shock.
Seungkwan smirks, nods, and departs.
Junhui sits back in his chair. Well, that was weird.
“Wait!” Junhui almost totally forgets, and has to shout after Seungkwan. “Seungkwan!” He wants to ask why the hell Seungkwan came to him, of all people. “Seungkwan!”
But Seungkwan doesn’t hear.
Well, Junhui reasons to himself, whatever it was, it doesn’t matter.
It’s not like it’s going to happen again.
--
Less than seventy-two hours later, Junhui enters his room to grab his things before showering to find Mingyu sitting at his desk. The younger has folded into himself; his arms are wrapped around his middle and his feet resting against the lip of the desk. It’s almost, Junhui thinks, like he’s trying to hide his enormous frame from sight.
“Sup?” Junhui asks, retrieving a towel from the shared closet.
Mingyu looks to be in a daze. He’s clearly nervous, one of his legs bouncing where it’s propped up.
“How does a person know,” Mingyu begins hesitantly, not looking at Junhui, “if they’re gay?”
Oh god.
“Oh god,” Junhui says, too stunned to censor himself. There’s no way. “You too?”
Mingyu doesn’t even seem to hear. “I think...I think maybe...” He fidgets where he’s scrunched up between the chair and the desk. “Um, I think that I might...I might be...”
Junhui’s hit with a pang of sympathy-- followed by a sudden pang of terror. He shuffles over to the desk quickly.
“Mingyu,” Junhui says nervously, “just tell me it’s not for someone in the group.”
Mingyu does the exact opposite.
“I slept with Wonwoo,” he says.
Junhui feels like he’s been hit by a sack of bricks. “You slept with Wonwoo?” he repeats incredulously. That is not what he expected Mingyu to say.
“I did,” Mingyu affirms, and bites his lip hard enough to probably draw blood.
Junhui stumbles into a crouch next to where Mingyu sits. “Min,” he tries. “A lot of people...a lot of people experiment, they hook up with someone of the same sex, and they never-- it turns out that they don’t--“
“We’ve been sleeping together for two months,” Mingyu cuts in, still staring at the wall.
Junhui’s mouth drops open.
“We’ve had a lot of gay sex,” Mingyu adds unnecessarily.
Junhui buries his face in his hands. Oh Jesus.
“I like it a lot,” he hears Mingyu say, and it’s choked out, like he’s about to start crying.
Junhui immediately lifts his head. Indeed, tears are wobbling at the precipice of Mingyu’s eyes.
Mingyu finally turns to make eye contact. “I’m pretty sure I’m gay,” he whispers. A tear escapes.
Junhui exhales. He’s not sure if Mingyu would be okay with Junhui touching him to comfort him, so he places his hands on the desk close to where Mingyu is, just to be nearer. “Mingyu,” he says. “I thought you’d been with girls before. Right? Girlfriends, before debut.”
Mingyu nods quickly. “But it’s not the same,” he admits. He lets out a breath. “I liked that. I liked them. But...” he contemplates something. “I didn’t need them like this.” He face is twisted up in confusion. “I just, I need him, all the time, you know?” He sniffs. “I really like being with him, and I...”
Something finally clicks for Junhui.
“Hey,” he says gently, drawing his hands a little closer on the desk to where Mingyu’s feet are propped up. “Mingyu. Listen to me. I think this is less about gay and,” he takes a breath, “more about being in love.”
Another tear runs down Mingyu’s face. “What?”
Junhui smiles, though it probably doesn’t look much like a smile, because he’s distressed by Mingyu’s distress. “Dude, I think you’re in love with Wonwoo. You might be gay, or not, it doesn’t matter, but what matters is that you’re in love with him.”
A third tear falls. Mingyu’s stares at him with aching vulnerability. “Really?”
And Junhui is suddenly stunned by how Mingyu sounds like he really trusts Junhui’s opinion, like really trusts it, and will believe whatever Junhui tells him.
Junhui is overwhelmed by the authority Mingyu’s given him on this, but he’s also pretty sure about his verdict of ‘love,’ so he nods.
Mingyu absorbs this information. He seems a lot less put out by it than Junhui expected.
“Okay,” Mingyu eventually says, nodding and collecting himself. He sounds almost...hopeful. “Okay.” Junhui nods back uselessly.
“I’m going to reflect on it,” Mingyu continues without a trace of irony, removing his feet from the desk and unfolding himself to stand up. “Thank you, man,” he says, also unironically, and then without warning, envelops Junhui in a very tight hug.
Junhui lets himself unfreeze out of his surprise and then hugs Mingyu back tightly. It feels good to make his friend feel better.
Still, once Mingyu’s left, he silently prays to God, or the Universe, or whatever it is that’s out there, that this is the last time someone comes to him looking for advice on liking another man.
--
“I’m gay,” Joshua announces, and then bursts into tears.
“Whoa!” Junhui recoils in his blankets. “Good morning?!”
These are Joshua’s first words to him after shaking him awake--“Junhui, Junhui, Junhui, Junhui”-- and Junhui opening his eyes to find Joshua standing at his bedside like a child awoken from a nightmare.
“Oh my god,” Junhui says, scanning the bedroom and thankfully finding it empty apart from the two of them. This is seeming like a situation requiring privacy. Meanwhile, Joshua sobs uncontrollably. “Joshua, what?”
“I’m sorry!” Joshua cry-shouts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, I didn’t want to cause this whole mess, I’m sorry, I’ll just, I’ll leave you alone--“
“Wait,” Junhui pleads, his brain finally waking up. “Wait-- Joshua-- Joshua-- Jisoo--“ but Joshua’s back is already turned.
Before he can run away, Junhui darts a hand out from under the covers and grabs onto Joshua’s wrist.
“Jisoo,” Junhui repeats, and finally Joshua turns to look at him. His face is covered in tear tracks.
“Don’t be sorry,” Junhui says. Joshua looks away nervously. “You just surprised me. Don’t be sorry for coming to talk to me.”
Junhui yanks on the other’s wrist until Joshua looks back and they make eye contact. “And I’m not sure if this is what you were doing, but just in case, don’t ever apologize for liking another guy. Okay?”
Joshua gives a miserable hiccup. He doesn’t look very convinced.
“I mean it,” Junhui repeats. “Don’t ever be sorry for liking guys. You got that?”
Joshua takes a deep breath. He looks nervous, but finally, he bites his lip and nods.
“Okay,” Junhui says. He draws himself up into a sitting position and pats a space on the edge of the bed. “Now tell me what happened.”
Joshua takes a seat like he’s still not sure he’s allowed there, and then he stares down at his hands, folded in his lap.
“Well?” Junhui prompts after a stretch of silence.
“So, um...” Joshua begins. “Jeonghan asked me to cuddle with him two nights ago...”
&&
“And now I think I like him,” Joshua concludes sadly. “And maybe, I don’t know, I’m gay too. I’m gay, oh my god.” He buries his face in his hands.
Junhui’s heart clenches. No one should look so sad about loving another person.
“Jisoo,” Junhui asks carefully, “did you like girls when you were in school in America?”
Joshua lets his hands drop from his face and wipes at a couple stray tears. “Um, yeah,” he says. “Of course I liked girls.” He shrugs helplessly. “I had lots of friends who were girls.”
“No, like, did you like like girls.”
Joshua looks at Junhui like he doesn’t comprehend the questions. Junhui gives up on nuance.
“Did you have sex with any girls when you were in America?”
“Jun!” Joshua looks scandalized. “I mean! Really...”
“Just answer my question,” Junhui says as politely as he can. “Did you, uh, sleep with any of the girls?”
“No,” Joshua answers, blushing.
“Did you want to sleep with any of them?”
After a moment of introspection, Joshua says very quietly, “no.”
“Not like you want to sleep with Jeonghan?”
This is the perhaps the worst secret he’s kept-- Joshua knows that. “No.”
Oh dear. Junhui sighs. “Jisoo, I think you might be gay.”
Joshua finally looks straight at Junhui and his eyes are wide with terror. “What?” he asks, panicked.
Junhui realizes a little too late that Joshua might have been hoping that Junhui, in what the other members apparently believe to be his infinite expertise in dude-on-dude issues, would actually deem him not gay, yes, you are cured, that will be all, you can go home now, please mail in the ten thousand won.
“Is that it?” Joshua shrieks. “Am I gay? Is that it, I’m gay from now on? I’m gay forever?”
Junhui tries to calm him. “Joshua, it doesn’t work like that.”
At Joshua’s plaintive expression, Junhui sighs. “Well, actually, maybe it does.” Joshua’s face falls. “But!” Junhui shakes one of Joshua’s shoulders gently until the other looks at him.
“Maybe you’ll be gay,” Junhui concedes. “Maybe forever.” Joshua looks like he’s about to resume crying.
”But,” Junhui repeats. From what Junhui’s witnessed between the two of then, and from the sound of Joshua’s explanation, Jeonghan is locked down tight on Joshua. It’s the other way around that’s the problem. “Does it really matter if you’ve got Jeonghan?”
Joshua’s expression clears. It’s like he hadn’t considered that at all.
Junhui waits patiently-- and mentally crosses his fingers-- as Joshua internally wrestles with the question.
“I guess...I guess not,” Joshua says after some time. “Not really.”
Junhui can’t help smiling. “Right?”
Joshua nods shakily. “Right.” He thinks for a second more and then his expression changes, into one with new determination. “Right.”
Right, Junhui says to himself, and pulls Joshua in for a hug. Joshua squeaks with surprise, but Junhui just pulls him closer. Joshua gives a watery laugh.
And maybe he cries a little more before they finish the conversation. But that’s alright. Everything’s going to be okay.
--
Jihoon is, by far, the most difficult person for Junhui to counsel on this matter-- even more difficult than a crying Joshua or a petulant Seungkwan or a closed-off Mingyu. And that is because: Junhui is scared of Jihoon.
He might not advertise it, since this means that he is scared of a guy who is not only approximately ten feet shorter than him, but who is also younger than him, who can regularly be seen sporting a real, actual children’s backpack, not ironically, and who, finally, Junhui is pretty sure legitimately owns onesie pajamas with a strawberry shortcake design printed on them-- but goddamn it if Junhui isn’t terrified of his wrath.
On a related note, Jihoon is also difficult to counsel because he is a difficult person in general.
“I need to talk to you,” Jihoon informs Junhui briskly, popping up out of nowhere and accosting Junhui as he exits a practice room. He grabs Junhui’s shoulder and proceeds to physically drag him into the big Pledis office that no one ever does actual office work in.
As usual, the office is totally empty, though Junhui wonders if Jihoon would have threatened people into leaving for the sake of their privacy. Junhui wouldn’t put it past him.
Junhui adjusts his position in the chair that Jihoon has carelessly dropped him into. Jihoon primly sits down beside him and opens up some food thing sitting on the table.
“Am I in trouble?” Junhui quips, trying for lighthearted but landing closer to awkward.
“I have an issue that you need to help me with,” Jihoon informs him, not even looking up from his lunch. Junhui reminds himself that asking for some of the food as payment for said ‘help’ will probably not be considered ‘funny’ in this situation.
Jihoon keeps talking, still looking down at his food, which he’s carefully arranging on the table before he begins eating. “I like Soonyoung.”
Of course. Of course.
“Like?” Junhui asks hopefully. “Like, best friend like?”
“No,” Jihoon says, pulling out a pair of chopsticks. “Like, gay like.”
Well, he does get right to the point; Junhui has to give him credit for that.
“What, no identity crisis?” Junhui jokes weakly.
Jihoon raises an eyebrow at his lunch. “About being gay?”
“Yeah,” Junhui says. “You seem pretty sure about it.”
Jihoon finally looks up from his food.
Junhui attempts a smile.
“I suck dick,” Jihoon says flatly, and then returns to his food. Junhui almost chokes to death on his own spit.
Jihoon nonchalantly begins stuffing his face.
“Glad we cleared that up,” Junhui finally says, after watching his life flash before his eyes.
“I like Soonyoung,” Jihoon resumes like there wasn’t an interruption. “I'm thinking of telling him.”
Junhui exhales. “So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t think he likes me back.”
Junhui laughs.
Jihoon turns his robot lazer gaze onto him.
“Seriously?” Junhui asks. Finally, he’s got some leverage in this conversation. “Are you for real?”
Jihoon goes blank.
“Come on Jihoon. Soonyoung, like, loves you.” He feels himself smile. “He’s so into you. He watches you with stars in his eyes all the time. Didn’t you notice that?”
“No,” Jihoon says very, very quietly. He turns back to his food, paying an inordinate amount of attention to it.
After an extended period of silence, Junhui leans back in his chair. “So. Now you know he likes you back. And apparently you’re down with the d. And judging by the amount of time Soonyoung spends staring at your ass when your back is turned, he’s down with the d too. Problem solved. This means you don’t need my advice anymore, right?”
He’s teasing, of course-- he knows the issue is deeper than that. He knows Jihoon is worried about something more. It’s just that he wants to hear Jihoon admit it.
Jihoon contemplates his food. Junhui rolls his eyes.
“He’s just--“ Jihoon struggles, breaking the silence a moment later, “he’s just"-- he huffs-- “he’s just so nice.”
“Right,” Junhui nods, like he’s also deeply offended by Soonyoung’s niceness. “Disgusting.”
“I mean, he’s nice and he’s this legitimately good human being and-- how could he want to be with me? I’m like, angry all the time and I hate people, like for real, I really do hate most people, and I’m so different from him and-- dammit, this is a waste of time.” He hangs his head, food forgotten.
Junhui sighs.
“Hey,” Junhui interrupts Jihoon’s psychological death spiral. Jihoon doesn’t move. “Jihoon. What do you like about him?”
Jihoon looks up, surprised. “What?”
“Soonyoung. What do you like about him?”
Jihoon looks like he knows this is a trap, but he gives in anyway. “He’s...nice. Way nicer than me.” He cocks an eyebrow. “He’s a good listener. He’s clever. He’s an incredible dancer, of course. And he wants to learn to be a better singer even though he doesn’t have to.” Jihoon softens as he speaks. Junhui feels strangely like a voyeur to some hidden-away, rarely-seen side of Jihoon. “He’s like, gorgeous, you know?” Jihoon lights up. “It’s weird. Like when he’s smiles, he’s just so...” He trails off, dazed.
“Jihoonie,” Junhui says, guessing (correctly-- thankfully) that this is the one time in their lives that Jihoon won’t straight-up murder him for using the nickname. “Maybe Soonyoung says all the same stuff about your cranky ass.”
This catches Jihoon off guard.
“Stop messing around,” he eventually grumbles, resuming stuffing his face, but Junhui can see that he’s trying to hide a tiny, tiny smile.
And Junhui thinks, my work here is done.
--
Only two days later, Junhui is alone in his room when he’s approached by Hansol, who is wearing the. ugliest. outfit. that Junhui has ever. seen. He’s got on a black blazer, something they’d normally wear on stage, but underneath that is a red plaid flannel, and underneath that is some bright yellow printed thing, and maybe something turqouise under that, Junhui can’t be sure, and then paired with that Hansol’s got on cargo pants that are camo and tied around his head are not one but two handkerchiefs and dear god, is one of those handkerchiefs red plaid? Do they even make red plaid handkerchiefs? Or did he murder some innocent plaid shirt in order to make it? He’s quite sure none of the stylists are purchasing these clothes for Hansol. Where does he find these things?
Junhui tries to focus on Hansol’s face, because it hurts his eyes significantly less than looking at the outfit.
“Hyung,” Hansol begins, biting his lip. “Can I talk to you about something?”
No. No.
“About what,” Junhui asks lowly.
“I didn’t know if I should come to you,” Hansol says nervously instead of answering. He looks down and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “I didn’t know who else to ask--“
“Hansol,” Junhui warns, but it’s already too late.
“It’s just, you know, you have experience in all this, hyung, and who else can I really get into the details with--“
“WHY,” Junhui bursts out. “WHY ME.”
Hansol freezes, a deer in the headlights.
”Why does everyone want to talk to me about being gay," Junhui hisses desperately. It’s practically a plea. “Everyone wants to talk to me about liking dick. I just, I don’t understand. Why, Hansol. Why.”
Hansol’s mouth falls open.
They stand in thick silence for a while, Hansol in shock and Junhui in shame for his outburst, before Hansol finally speaks.
“Hyung, haven’t you and Minghao hyung been together for like, six months?”
Oh Jesus.
Junhui turns red.
“Right?” Hansol asks, a smile beginning to form. “Aren’t you guys like, really happy together and everything?”
Junhui turns redder.
Hansol takes Junhui’s silence the wrong way. “Wait--“ his face falls, “--you two didn’t break up, did you? Did you?”
When Junhui is too stunned to respond, Hansol looks genuinely panicked by his silence. “Oh my god, you two can’t break up! Whatever it is, I’m sure you guys can work it out! This is terrible, I can’t believe you guys broke up.” He begins pacing. “You guys were doing so well! You two are like my favorite couple ever! Really, for real! I mean it!” He pauses to think. “Except, maybe Nicki and Drake. But they’re not actually together, so that probably doesn’t count. But they might be one day. I believe in them. But on the other hand,” he tilts his head to one side, “what about me and Drake? I’m not gay but I feel like we’d make a really good couple. I could be gay for Drake. I think about that sometimes. We have a lot in common, you know,” he informs a stunned Junhui. “Like, we both like his music, we both speak English, and I know we’ve never met or whatever but I have been to Canada, like, twice--“
“No!” Junhui accidentally shouts. Hansol looks at him in confusion.
“No, we didn’t break up,” Junhui clarifies, embarrassed.
It’s not that the memebers can’t know about their relationship-- it’s that he didn’t realize everyone already knew and was so invested in it. And that they were keeping track of the dates and everything.
Though, it does explain how he became some sort of gay guru to all of them.
Hansol visibly relaxes at Junhui’s confirmation. “That’s good,” he says, and it’s almost sweet how relieved he seems. Then he perks up again. “It doesn’t make sense for you two to break up anyway, cause didn’t you give him that necklace last week for your anniversay--“
“WHAT DID YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT,” Junhui shrills.
Hansol breaks from his train of thought. “Oh, right.” He gestures towards his atrocious ensemble. “What do you think of this outfit?”
--
“Oh my god,” Junhui says, abruptly remembering. “I have to tell you something.”
Minghao lifts his head from the pillow, slightly alarmed. “What?”
“It’s not even that big a deal, it’s just...it’s weird.” Junhui sighs, pulling Minghao a little closer in his arms. “Okay, so, a bunch of the guys came to me and wanted to talk about...being gay.”
Minghao’s head drops back onto the pillow. He stares at Junhui with wide eyes.
“And like, they’re all gay, but with other members? Like, Joshua and Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Mingyu-- like, what? How is that even possible? This must’ve been some casting process.” Junhui sighs. “Minghao, all of our bandmates are fucking each other, and they all came to talk to me about it.”
Minghao is frozen.
“Hello?” Junhui asks hesitantly.
Suddenly, Minghao bursts into laughter. Like, uncontrollable, wild, really loud laughter. He practically shakes out of Junhui’s arms with it. Junhui watches in confusion.
“Babe?” he asks, “Are you...okay...”
Minghao laughs a little while longer before he calms down, wiping at what are apparently tears. “Oh my god,” he gasps. “Me too! They did it to me too!”
Junhui’s jaw drops. ”No.”
“Yes!” Minghao laughs again. “They were all like, really confused-- and wanted to talk about liking the other members-- oh my god--“
Junhui rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ.” This is out of control. “Who did you get?”
Minghao finally begins to calm from his laughter. “Sungcheol, Jeonghan,” he strains to remember, “Wonwoo, and...Soonyoung.”
Junhui nods. “I got Seungkwan, Joshua, Mingyu, Jihoon. Jeez, let’s hope they all match up with each other.”
Minghao nods. “I think they will. Thankfully mine were all pretty sure about liking dudes.”
“Really?” Junhui says, kind of grumpily. “Like, three of mine wanted me to tell them whether they were gay or not. It was really uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have that kind of authority.”
“Nope! I got the like, deeper existensial crises. Well,” Minghao concedes, “to be fair, Sungcheol didn’t really talk. He just came and sat down on the floor and stared at nothing for, like, an hour.” His face twists into confusion. “I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with that one.”
Junhui rubs a big circle on Minghao’s back. “I’m sure you did the best you could.”
They lay in silence processing the information before something occurs to Junhui. “Wait!” he bursts out. “Sungcheol? You got Sungcheol?”
Minghao nods.
“Ah,” Junhui whines, “did he say who he liked?”
“Pretty sure it was Seungkwan.”
“Ugggghhh,” Junhui moans. “That explains so much.”
Minghao lightly slaps his chest. “Don’t be salty.”
Junhui rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright.”
“They’re in love,” Minghao says plaintively. “Cheol and Seungkwan. Or, maybe, all of them. With each other. In the pairs. Whatever. It doesn’t matter, they’re in love and it’s really beautiful, and they trust us, so we should be honored that they came to both of us to talk about it.”
“Right, it’s beautiful,” Junhui says, but it comes out overwhelmingly fond, because all he can think about is how adorable Minghao is.
He draws Minghao closer into the circle of his arms and throws one of his legs over Minghao’s. “Were we this ridiculous in the beginning?”
Minghao’s nose scrunches up. “Well...” he contemplates.
Junhui laughs. “Don’t answer that,” he says quickly, bringing his face just a breath away from Minghao’s. “Just kiss me.”
Minghao does.