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Mingyu came to a stop, his chest heaving out a few panting breaths, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and using it to wipe the sweat that was running out from under his bangs. There was still a full month before summer officially, technically started, but it was unusually hot for May, and Mingyu had now been playing basketball with Seungcheol, Wonwoo, and Seokmin for over an hour, working up a proper sweat.
“Heads up!” Seungcheol exclaimed, while Wonwoo shouted “Mingyu!” and Seokmin squeaked out a fretful “I’m sorry!” Thankfully, the mix of voices were warning enough; Mingyu looked up in time to see their basketball hurtling towards his face, and in a move of uncharacteristic grace, dodged it. The ball flew past him.
But now it was off the court, set loose to wreak havoc across student grounds. Seokmin let out another apology, but Mingyu waved the words off and dashed after it. There wasn’t anyone out there that Mingyu could see; the spring semester had ended last week, and the summer one hadn’t started yet, with the only people on campus those who lived in nearby apartments year-round. The basketball hit the ground, bounced three times, and began to roll, but by then Mingyu had caught up. He stooped to scoop it up, but that was when his grace decided to run out: his fingers had just made contact with the ball when he felt the toes of his right foot catch on a tree root, his ankle slipping and twisting painfully. He yelped, tripping, squeezing his eyes shut tight to brace for his inevitable crash into grass when there was a strong arm around his waist, catching him.
The owner of that arm grunted slightly at the impact of Mingyu’s body, but aside from that they barely swayed, solid and steady. Mingyu felt fingertips against his waist, cold through the damp fabric of his shirt and digging in nearly enough to bruise, but he didn’t mind; this tight grip was highly favorable to whatever would have happened if he’d landed on his face. Mingyu opened his eyes, and his breath stuttered to a stop in his chest, his heart flipping over.
“Are you alright?”
It was Jihoon. Lee Jihoon.
Mingyu knew Jihoon… sort of. If asked, he would say that yeah, they were friends; they had so many mutual friends that bumping into each other at gatherings was inevitable, and the conversations they sometimes found themselves in always went amicably enough. They weren’t close though, not by any means. They were on opposite ends of their mutual-friendsphere, and hadn’t ever interacted outside of a group setting. So maybe they were more like acquaintances, and that saying “friends” was wishful thinking on Mingyu’s part, but Mingyu did want to be Jihoon’s friend. Friend, or—or whatever else Jihoon might want him to be, if they got to know each other. As long as it was something close.
And right now, they were close. Very, very close, Jihoon’s arm around his waist, propping Mingyu up with his own body, his chin tilted to properly look at Mingyu’s face. Mingyu had always found Jihoon handsome, but it was different like this, his skin incredibly clear and smooth and soft-looking, his eyes dark and warm, his hair falling softly against his forehead.
“Uh,” Mingyu responded eloquently.
“You twisted your ankle. It looked like it hurt.” Jihoon said the words in a way that was almost hilariously informative instead of any sort of sympathetic, like somehow Mingyu, of all people, wouldn’t know that. In fairness though, he was staring at Jihoon’s pretty pink lips a bit too intently to really feel the pain anymore. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Mingyu breathed. Jihoon’s eyebrows drew together, Mingyu realizing how incredibly unconvincing he sounded and trying again. “I—yeah! I’m fine!”
“You’ll be good if I let go of you?” Jihoon asked. Mingyu was a bit put out that Jihoon’s question seemed like less concern for his well-being and more a want to stop touching him, but he nodded anyway. Hesitantly, Jihoon took a step back. His hand stayed lightly on the small of Mingyu’s back.
“Is Mingyu okay?” Seungcheol called out. Jihoon and Seungcheol—along with another friend named Soonyoung—were all roommates, and Seungcheol looked completely unsurprised to see Jihoon there. None of Mingyu’s friends had left the court, just standing back and watching them. Or, Seungcheol and Seokmin were watching; Wonwoo was squinting, Mingyu pretty sure that they were too far in the distance to still be anything more than fuzzy blobs.
“Twisted ankle!” Jihoon called back, as Mingyu tried to put some weight on his right leg. The ankle was tender, sure, but there wasn’t any genuine damage done; it would probably be okay by tomorrow. He hobbled over to the basketball and picked it up.
“I’m fine!” He declared again. Then he turned to Jihoon.
“Thanks, um, for catching me like that.” Feeling awkward, he gave a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “It was pretty cool.”
Jihoon gave a small smile back. “Don’t mention it,” he answered, like—like he just wanted to be cooler, and knew he was succeeding. “You should get an ice pack on that.”
“I will,” Mingyu promised, Jihoon giving him one last glance before continuing on his way. Mingyu watched him go, the basketball tucked under his arm, before he realized something, his frown growing with every retreating step Jihoon took.
He’d been sure, almost completely sure, that the grounds had been empty when he’d gone running after the ball. There had been no sign of Jihoon. There had been no sign of anyone.
So how had Jihoon gotten to him so fast?
“Vampire,” Mingyu said, setting their tray of overpriced caffeinated drinks and pastries on the table. “Has to be. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“We were wondering why Joshua has such big hands, so no, that doesn’t make sense,” Seungkwan countered, ice rattling as he picked up his americano by the lid and took a sip. “What are you talking about?”
Monday morning coffee dates had been Mingyu and Seungkwan’s tradition since their second year of high school, getting up a little extra early and spending their painfully scarce pocket money on—back then, much less bitter and more sugary—coffee in attempt to lessen the burden of being sixteen years old and hopefully start the week off right. Sometimes other friends joined them, and sometimes it had to be virtual, if Mingyu was on vacation or Seungkwan was back home visiting family, but they hadn’t missed a single week in the past seven years, an accomplishment both of them held in pretty high esteem. This time, they were joined by Seokmin and Seungkwan’s boyfriend Hansol.
“I’m talking about Jihoon,” Mingyu explained. “I think he’s a vampire.”
His three friends blinked at him.
“Jihoon?” Seokmin asked in clarification. His expression suggested that he thought he’d missed out on some joke. “Like, our friend Jihoon?”
Mingyu nodded, taking a sip of his own coffee. Hansol’s mouth was twitching in a way that suggested he was trying not to smile and Seungkwan, after a slow look over him, reached across the table and placed the back of his hand against Mingyu’s forehead, as though checking for a fever.
“Hey!” Mingyu exclaimed, hitting his arm away. “I’m serious! I know how it sounds—”
“And you said it anyway?” Seungkwan cut in. Hansol snorted back a laugh.
“—but I’ve been thinking about it all weekend, and I have a bunch of evidence. Seokmin can vouch for me.”
“I can?” Seokmin went from confused to bewildered. “I—what?”
“We were playing basketball together on Friday, right?” Mingyu asked. Seokmin nodded slowly, as though afraid that the simple action would be the same as putting his approval on a theory that he clearly thought was ridiculous. Or, thought was ridiculous now; Mingyu was sure he could convince him. “And you threw the ball off the court, I ran after it, almost fell, and Jihoon caught me. Right?”
Seokmin nodded again.
“So.” Mingyu fixed Seokmin with a stare, placing his latte down to point at him. “Did you see Jihoon walking up before he caught me? Or was it just like he appeared out of nowhere?”
Seokmin glanced away as he fell into thought. Then his eyebrows raised, his eyes going wider and wider.
“Out of nowhere,” he confirmed. Mingyu slapped his hand on the table, very nearly dumping his muffin into his lap, the pastry jostling dangerously.
“Oh, come on!” Seungkwan complained. “What are you talking about?”
“Jihoon! He clearly has super speed.”
Hansol now had a hand over his mouth.
“Aren’t there a bunch of trees down there?” Seungkwan asked. “Maybe that’s why you didn’t see him.”
“But he has super strength, too!” Mingyu was not deterred. “I hadn’t just lost my balance, or whatever. I was going, like, face-first into the dirt, but he somehow managed to save me with just one of his arms around my waist. And I’m huge! He shouldn’t be able to do that.”
“That did happen,” Seokmin seconded, pointing at Mingyu, his own coffee all but forgotten. “It was pretty amazing.”
“Regular people can be fast and strong,” Seungkwan said stubbornly, crossing his arms. “You really think that Jihoon sucks blood?”
“It’s not about that!” Mingyu insisted. “I’m just saying. He’s so pale, he's unnaturally strong, and he’s gorgeous. His hands were so cold when he touched me, even though he had on long sleeves and long pants, and it was hot out. Doesn’t he sleep all the day, and never go outside?”
That question was directed at Hansol, the member of this little group that was the closest to Jihoon. He had his lips pursed and his nostrils flared, his responding nod falling away into a stream of choked giggles as he finally lost the battle he’d been fighting with himself since Mingyu had begun positing his theory. Mingyu took the affirmative answer anyway.
“See? It all lines up! He even has those pointy little fangs!”
“Wait, wait. Back up. You think Jihoon is gorgeous?” Seungkwan leaned in across the table. “Is that what all of this is about?”
“It’s evidence!” Mingyu protested weakly. “Vampires—they’re supposed to be pretty. To attract prey, and stuff. That’s what I meant.”
Seungkwan clearly didn’t believe him.
“Mingyu… are you sure this isn’t just because you read Twilight recently? I think you just have vampires on the brain.”
Mingyu had read Twilight recently. He’d read all four of the books. He and his sister had buddy-read them together, missing each other and wanting something fun to do to pass the time until he could go back home and see her, texting each other reading updates and discussing the content during phone calls. It really had been a lot of fun, and as it was, Mingyu had plans to travel home this upcoming weekend.
But that wasn’t it. It wasn’t because of Twilight, Mingyu was sure.
“I’m going to prove it,” he told them. Hansol’s quiet laughter had now brought tears to his eyes.
“How?” Seokmin asked with interest.
“Well, I did some research, and vampires can’t eat human food, right? Only blood. But I’m good at cooking, so I’m going to make him a super delicious meal. If he refuses to eat it…” Mingyu snapped his fingers. “Vampire.”
“I don’t think that’s conclusive,” Seungkwan countered.
“You guys have all tried food that I’ve made,” Mingyu countered back. He had yet to meet someone that didn’t enjoy his cooking. “It’s really strong evidence, isn’t it?”
Even Seungkwan—begrudgingly, but still—had to agree with that.
“I think one of his favorite foods is rice,” Hansol told him helpfully. Mingyu’s eyebrows flew up his forehead.
“Rice? Who’s favorite food is rice?” The vampiric evidence was almost overwhelming. “See? That’s exactly what someone who doesn’t actually eat human food would say!”
Hansol dissolved into laughter again.
Mingyu spent the entire next day looking through recipes, wanting to make something that looked and smelled irresistibly mouth-watering. Once he’d picked something out he went shopping, sifting carefully through the aisles to get only the best ingredients. The next morning he got up early, showering and shaving and doing some stretches. He put on his “Focus” playlist—a little lo-fi and a little gay—then went into the kitchen and got to work.
He’d decided on barbecue short ribs on a bed of rice with a sweet and spicy potsticker salad, all made from scratch. And though he knew Jihoon probably wasn’t going to eat it, probably wouldn’t even find it appetizing, he still wanted to try his best on the off chance that Jihoon was human and would eat his food, so that hopefully he would, well… like it. Mingyu wanted Jihoon to like it.
Cooking took up the entirety of the morning. But the self-satisfaction made it all worth it once Mingyu tried some and found out how good it all tasted, getting it wrapped up and ready to carry over to Jihoon’s apartment. He’d made three servings, in case Seungcheol and Soonyoung wanted some too, and even had a cover story for why he was coming; he wanted to borrow one of Seungcheol’s physiology textbooks, shooting a text to him about it as he left his apartment. Then he set off.
Since he was quite close with Seungcheol, he already knew the way. It was a solid ten minute walk, Mingyu knocking on the door and waiting expectantly. It took a good few minutes for it to be opened, and instead of Seungcheol, Jihoon was standing in the doorway and looking rather confused.
“Hi,” he finally said, after looking at Mingyu for a moment more.
“Hi!” Mingyu gave him a smile. “I—sorry. I told Seungcheol I was coming.”
He lifted up the food in explanation, and after another few seconds of examination, Jihoon stepped back to let him inside. Mingyu had been to this apartment a handful of times, but usually Jihoon had either gone off to the university’s music building or was tucked away in his room. Now, he was out in the living room, and Mingyu didn’t miss how the blinds were drawn over all of the windows. Mingyu had seen Jihoon outside during the day plenty of times, so he knew that sunlight wasn’t deadly to him; maybe he just didn’t want to sparkle in front of Mingyu.
Mingyu was in the middle of telling Jihoon all about the trade he wanted to make, the meal for the book, when he noticed that aside from the two of them, it seemed like the apartment was empty.
He and Jihoon were alone.
“Is Seungcheol not here?” he asked. Jihoon shook his head.
“He and Soonyoung went on a bike ride,” he said.
“You didn’t want to go too?”
At that, Jihoon made a face. “It’s a bit too sunny today.”
Mingyu tucked that suspicious information away for later.
“I’m sorry for just showing up, I should have waited for Seungcheol to respond before coming over,” Mingyu said, but Jihoon shook his head again.
“No, it’s fine. I just don’t want to go into his room without permission.” Jihoon pulled his phone out. “I’ll text him too. Hopefully he’ll look at his phone soon.”
“I made three servings.” Mingyu gestured to the food he’d brought, while Jihoon tapped away at his bright screen with his thumbs. “So you can have some too, if you want. It’s warm now, and it’s lunch time, so…”
Jihoon looked up, examining the food, Mingyu watching him with baited breath. His expression seemed to suggest that he was actually, seriously considering it, but then he gave Mingyu an apologetic sort of smile.
“I would, but I literally just ate,” he said, gesturing to the coffee table in the living room in explanation. There was no food to be seen, though, just a red soda can that had the lid popped. So what, he only had a drink for lunch? Mingyu was about to protest when inspiration hit him like a bolt. Jihoon wouldn’t eat the food—one point for the vampire theory—and had a lunch that was liquid out of a red can. Red like blood.
Mingyu couldn't help the way he lurched away from Jihoon, just a bit, feeling a strange mix of slightly frightened, painfully curious, and even a bit apologetic for interrupting Jihoon’s midday blood drinking session.
“Oh. Okay.” He tried to keep his voice neutral. He didn’t think he was succeeding, the suspicion confirmed when Jihoon gave him a small frown.
“It looks really good,” he told Mingyu. “Really. I, uh. I’ll eat some later. Thank you for making some for me, that’s… It’s really kind of you.”
Though Mingyu didn’t actually believe that Jihoon would eat some of it later, the thanks and the compliments had his cheeks burning, turning quickly away from Jihoon to put the food in the fridge. He opened the door, just to completely freeze when he saw that the two whole shelves in the refrigerator were filled with red soda cans. No one could drink that much soda, the idea of it absolutely ludicrous, but if it was Jihoon’s only form of sustenance, then…
Jihoon peered around his shoulder to look at his face.
“Do…” he sounded confused. “Do you want a Coca-Cola, Mingyu?”
“Nope!” Mingyu shoved the food into the fridge and slammed the door closed. He was not going to drink blood. Nope, nope, nope. “No, I, uh—I can’t—can’t have—or, um, don’t like sweet stuff. You know, stuff like sodas and chocolates and, uh. Yeah. No thank you.”
“Okay.” Jihoon blinked at him a few times. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine. Do you want water, or something?”
That was an offer that Mingyu accepted, going over to sit on the couch while Jihoon got him a glass. He needed to get a grip on himself. He knew that vampires drank blood. He knew that. And if Jihoon was a vampire, then that was what he was going to do. Drinking it from a can definitely wasn’t the same as stalking people through the night or something, so… so that really wasn’t so bad, right?
Jihoon came over when he had the glass filled, handing it over before picking up his own drink and sitting on the other side of the couch. He took a quick drink, balancing the can on his knee with a loose grip as he took his phone from his pocket and placed it down on the coffee table. Mingyu tried really, really hard not to stare.
“Is your ankle better?” Jihoon asked him, after a few moments. He wasn’t looking at Mingyu, and his ears had turned a rather eye-catching shade of red. “You’re not limping, and it seems like you walked here.”
“Yeah!” Mingyu said quickly. “Yeah, it’s okay now. It’s been okay for a few days.”
“A few days?” Jihoon looked at him curiously. “That seems fast.”
“I…” Mingyu shrugged a little. Jihoon had caught him before he’d actually really twisted it, so healing had just taken some ice, a few painkillers, and some very careful walking in an attempt to not trip over anything else. “I mean, I guess. I try to take care of my body well.”
While he didn’t quite mean it that way, those words had Jihoon looking over him, and he felt himself burn pink again. Then, in a way that very nearly killed him, Jihoon gave a tiny nod.
“I mean, I hear about you from Seungcheol.” Jihoon seemed to have noticed his blush, and looked embarrassed in turn. “He’s a sports medicine major, but you just like playing games for fun, right?”
Mingyu nodded. “I like all kinds of sports, I think,” he said. “Basketball, volleyball, football… I want to learn how to play tennis, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to yet.”
“Lots of ball games,” Jihoon remarked, and Mingyu nodded. That was most sports, after all. “I know that everyone else says I never leave my room, but I like sports too. I was on a few teams when I was younger.”
“Really?” Mingyu asked in interest. He couldn’t really imagine that, but he liked the thought; Jihoon, on the other side of a volleyball net, the ball in his hand and the wind in his hair. Maybe on the beach, with his toes in the sand. Maybe in just a pair of swimming trunks.
Okay, maybe Seungkwan was onto something and part of this did have to do with thinking that Jihoon was gorgeous.
“Yeah,” Jihoon said, bringing Mingyu from thoughts that he really didn’t need to be having while sitting in Jihoon’s living room. “I’m pretty good, I think. I was good at baseball back in school, and I’ve kicked Seungcheol’s ass every time we played foot volleyball together, so don’t let him tell you otherwise.”
There was a small grin on Jihoon’s face, something a bit mischievous about the light in his eyes, and Mingyu laughed.
“Noted,” he said. “We should all play together.”
“Both of us against him sounds like overkill,” Jihoon remarked. Mingyu raised an eyebrow.
“Who said I was on your team?” he asked Jihoon, who looked at him in surprise for a moment before bursting into what was, quite frankly, an adorable pile of giggles, his body limp against the back of the couch, his eyes folding into crescents above the smile in his cheeks. Mingyu couldn’t help a few laughs of his own, realizing that if he played his cards right, he might be able to get Jihoon to go outside with him. For evidence purposes, of course.
“We should go play!” he said. “It would be really fun! And if—if you don’t want to, then we could just go out and do something else. I even like going on walks!”
“That…” Jihoon looked a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “That does sound fun.”
Then Jihoon’s phone went off, buzzing against the table, the screen lighting up. He frowned at the device as he leaned in to look at it.
“Oh, Seungcheol.” He picked his phone up, and Mingyu’s own phone went off in his pocket. He had messages from Seungcheol too.
From: Old Man
Don’t come over!!! I’m not home!!!
OH you’re already there…… pls don’t break anything
Mingyu sent back a well-deserved XP for Seungcheol’s lack of faith in him, while Jihoon got to his feet. He stretched his arms over his head as he did so, his biceps curling, his back arching, his whole face scrunching up.
“He gave me permission to go into his room,” Jihoon said, “so I’ll get that book for you.”
“Book?” Mingyu echoed, before remembering his cover story and giving his head a quick shake. “Right, right. Thanks.”
Jihoon paused for a moment in the doorway, giving Mingyu a small grin before vanishing into the room. The word “permission” was standing out in Mingyu’s mind; had Jihoon needed to be invited inside? That brought the idea of gathering evidence back to the forefront of his thoughts, and he resumed his “Get Jihoon To Go Out With Me” plan.
Outside. Go outside. “Get Jihoon To Go Outside With Me” plan.
“So did you want to do something?” he said, raising his voice a bit to be heard over the rifling, shuffling sounds that were now coming through Seungcheol’s bedroom door. Then, when Jihoon didn’t answer right away, “It can be whatever you want.”
When Jihoon did finally pop back up, book in hand, he looked hesitant.
“Maybe you have an idea? All I really have that we can play with is an old baseball. I used to play catch with my dad a lot, but my friends think it’s kind of boring, so I haven’t done it in a while.”
“We could do that!” Mingyu said quickly. “That sounds great.”
“Really?”
“Really.” It really did, and at Mingyu’s assurance, Jihoon’s smile returned to his face.
“Okay.” He held the book out. Mingyu took it. “I, um… I’m busy tomorrow, but maybe we could hang out Thursday? Same time as now?”
“Yeah!” Mingyu had no idea what his schedule for Thursday looked like, but he’d already mentally cleared it. This felt like the end of the conversation, and Mingyu now had the book he’d come for, so he made his way to the door. Jihoon walked him there, even reaching around his body to open the door for him. “Thursday works for me.”
“Okay,” Jihoon said again. His smile was a bit more muted now, but his eyes were bright, and something in the way his lips were pursed had small dimples popping at the corners of his mouth. Looking at them had Mingyu feeling downright lovestruck. “I’ll see you then.”
Then Mingyu left. He turned back to glance towards the apartment once he was a good ways down the hall, surprised to see that Jihoon hadn’t yet closed the door, and was looking at him. He looked a bit embarrassed by being caught, but it had Mingyu’s heart beating faster, lifting a hand to wave at him. Jihoon waved back, then closed the door quickly, and Mingyu couldn’t stop smiling the entire way home.
“So you think that he has… What did you say? Predatorially advantageous dimples?” Hansol struggled around the words. Mingyu nodded. Seungkwan flapped his arms around.
“That is so not important right now. Kim Mingyu, I need you to know that your soda idea is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
It was Thursday. Mingyu was trying to get dressed while he told Seungkwan and Hansol what he’d discovered on Tuesday afternoon, on a video call with them, Seungkwan’s face currently taking up the entirety of his phone screen. He wasn’t exactly being subtle about his opinions on the many ways Mingyu’s vampire theory had been strengthened.
“It was so many cans though, seriously! Like, definitely a suspicious amount.”
“Shopping mishaps happen! Remember when Junhui accidentally bought a thousand face masks? And really, if it actually had blood in it, why would he offer you one?”
Mingyu decided not to answer that. Thankfully, Hansol had a question.
“Doesn’t this mean that he isn’t a vampire, though? Wanting to go outside during the day?”
“I don’t think sunlight hurts Jihoon,” Mingyu explained, sitting down to start tugging his shoes on, “so he’s probably more worried about that sparkling thing. I checked the forecast; it was sunny yesterday, on the day he said he was busy, but today it’s cloudy with a chance of rain. Just like in Twilight, right?”
“This is so stupid,” Seungkwan muttered.
“I have to go, Seungkwan! He said he played catch with his dad, and aren’t vampires super old? What if his dad has been dead for like, a hundred years or something? Then he has no one to play catch with!”
Hansol was trying not to laugh again. Seungkwan leaned in close to the screen.
“Mingyu, I’m getting worried about you.”
“Worried?”
“Yes!” Seungkwan threw his arms up in exasperation. “Your sense of self-preservation is abysmal! I don’t understand why you want to hang out alone with Jihoon if you’re so convinced that he’s going to suck you dry like a juice box!”
Hansol choked on something—maybe his tongue—and Mingyu frowned.
“He seems nice, though. And his eyes aren’t red, so he probably doesn’t drink human blood anyway. He’s never seemed interested in drinking my blood before, but if, if he wanted to…”
Mingyu had spent yesterday thinking about it, about how to reconcile the fact that Jihoon was definitely secretly a vampire and the fact that Mingyu definitely had a giant crush on him. He was going to make an effort to be around Jihoon more, but he didn’t want to make anything difficult for him, so he figured that… that maybe letting Jihoon drink a little blood from him wouldn’t be so bad. If Jihoon wanted to, of course.
Jihoon wouldn’t be able to comfortably reach his neck while standing up, so they would have to be somewhere else, like on a couch or on a bed. Jihoon might have to sit in his lap, one hand in his hair, gripping at it to pull his head back. His lips would rest against Mingyu’s neck, a gentle kiss that gave way to the sharp prick of fangs…
“Mingyu?” Hansol’s voice brought him from his thoughts.
“Hm?”
“Seungkwan’s gone.” Sure enough, Seungkwan wasn’t in the frame anymore. “And I think he wants to kill you.”
Mingyu had his shoes on now, and it was as good of a time to go to the park as any, so Mingyu said goodbye to Hansol, hung up the phone, and made his way outside.
Jihoon, to Mingyu’s surprise, was already there. He was in the field by himself, looking incredibly at ease, tossing the baseball up into the air and catching it again. He was dressed pretty simply, in black shorts and a cuff-sleeved white t-shirt and black ball cap, with two baseball gloves by his feet in the grass. His hands were eye-catching, his fingers pretty as they paused in midair to wait for the ball to come back down, his chin tilted upwards towards the cloudy sky.
Oh, Mingyu was a goner.
“Jihoon!” he called out. Jihoon turned at the sound of his name, beginning to smile when Mingyu waved and waving back. Mingyu began running his way, letting his arms spread; the wind smelled like rain, nice and cool against his face. Jihoon warned him to be careful, but there was an amusement in the words, still smiling when Mingyu came to a stop at his feet.
“Hi,” he said. He looked amused. “You didn’t have to run down here.”
“But it’s a nice day!” Mingyu told him. The words seemed a bit silly, with the gray clouds covering the sun, but Jihoon just nodded in agreement. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
Jihoon shook his head at that. “No, it’s fine. Here, see if this glove fits you.”
The baseball glove did fit, Mingyu putting it on and jogging out a decent distance away.
“Ready?” Jihoon called out. Mingyu nodded, giving him a thumbs up, so Jihoon nodded back, then wound up to throw.
The pose was surprisingly professional, Jihoon lifting up in one leg in a pitcher’s stance, showing off an impressive curl of bicep, a mouthwateringly muscled thigh, and an unbelievably round ass all at once. It was all so distracting that Mingyu didn’t even notice when Jihoon let the ball go.
It hit Mingyu straight in the gut.
The ball wasn’t traveling dangerously fast, but the impact still knocked the wind out of him, Mingyu doubling over and crouching in the grass. He heard a shout of his name and then Jihoon was next to him, a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
Mingyu nodded, trying to say that he was but finding it hard to speak. In truth, he was more preoccupied with how Jihoon had run all the way over so fast, seeming to have crossed the distance in just a few seconds. It was amazing, really. He sat back on his butt, managing a full inhale and exhale before he spoke.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
Jihoon looked over him, his hand lifting off of Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu mourned the loss for a moment, but then Jihoon gave him a little pet on the head, and his heart soared.
“You, um.” Jihoon petted his head again, and gave him a small smile. “You’re supposed to catch the ball, you know.”
“Hey!” Mingyu protested, elbowing him. Jihoon laughed, a fondness in his eyes, losing his balance and falling to sit next to Mingyu. His hand slipped off the top of Mingyu’s head, scratching at his nape for just a moment before retracting completely.
Once Mingyu got his breath back, they began to actually play. It was fun, each of Jihoon’s throws coming towards him in a perfect arc, Jihoon making cute noises and cute faces when he threw and caught the ball. Mingyu’s aim wasn’t quite as good, apologizing every time Jihoon had to run for it.
At one point during the game the clouds broke, sunlight streaming down on them. It happened just as Jihoon took off his cap, tilting his chin back and shaking his hair out, running his fingers through it. Mingyu was sure, then, that Jihoon wasn’t just sparking; he was glowing.
When the clouds returned, they came back with a vengeance. Heavy and dark, blotting out the sun almost immediately and beginning to rumble. Mingyu walked up to Jihoon, tossing the ball over when he was halfway there. Jihoon caught it deftly.
“Hey, maybe we should—” he started, the words “go inside” drowned out by a loud clap of thunder. Then the heavens opened up.
“Shit!” Jihoon exclaimed, the curse a laugh, and they both ducked their heads, starting towards the apartments at a run. Jihoon’s place was closer, Jihoon reaching out and grabbing Mingyu’s wrist to tug him towards it. They were both completely soaked through and absolutely breathless with laughter once they reached the door, stopping for a moment to catch their breath. Mingyu had water dripping from his hair and into his face, scrunching his eyes closed and giving his head a big shake. Jihoon yelped as the droplets flew, swatting at his shoulder in protest, but all that did was make Mingyu laugh again.
“Are you sure?” he asked, when Jihoon opened the door. “I don’t want to drip on the carpet.”
“It’s fine.” Jihoon beckoned him in. “You need some dry clothes, or you’ll catch a cold.”
Curiously, the living room was empty again. Mingyu walked in gingerly, still feeling bad about being so wet, and now a little cold too, with the way the air conditioner was blasting. Jihoon shuffled around, getting him a dry outfit, a folded towel, and a plastic bag for his wet clothes once he’d changed out of them.
“I know where the bathroom is,” Mingyu said, with a vague gesture in the proper direction. Then his eyes slipped from Jihoon’s face to his wet torso; his white shirt was now clinging to him, showing his swell of pectoral muscle, his broad shoulders sloping down into a slim waist. Mingyu’s tongue felt about four times too big for his mouth, and he had to avert his eyes, turning completely away. “I—thanks.”
Surprisingly, Jihoon’s shirt—lilac and oversized—fit him decently well, and the shorts he’d been given were only a little small. By the time Mingyu got himself all dried off and changed, the storm seemed to have gotten worse. Soonyoung was in the kitchen when he emerged, not looking at all surprised to see him, giving a grin and a little wave and saying that Jihoon was in his bedroom. So Mingyu walked to the bedroom door, struggling for a moment about whether or not he should knock—he almost just walked in, but then his brain caught on the idea that Jihoon might still be changing, freezing him on the spot—when the door opened anyway.
It was Jihoon, similarly dressed in comfy-looking clothes, a towel around his neck that he was using to ruffle his hair. The strands seemed to have gone a bit frizzy from being dried like that, the apples of his cheeks pink, like he’d been rubbing at them. He looked adorable, but Mingyu didn’t want to overstay his welcome.
“Do you have an umbrella I could borrow?” he asked. Jihoon frowned at him.
“It’s so windy that you’ll just get wet again,” he said. “Do you want to just stay until the storm passes? It’s only supposed to last a few hours; we could watch a movie or something.”
He said it all casually, but he seemed nervous with how his eyes were somewhere over Mingyu’s shoulder and his face got pinker as he spoke, the color even reaching the tip of his nose. Mingyu had to work very hard not to swoon.
“Yes.” He wanted to do that very much, actually. “That sounds great.”
Jihoon gave a little nod, seemingly more to himself than to Mingyu, picking up his laptop from his desk and opening it, taking it into his arms and sitting on the edge of his bed. Then it hit Mingyu that they would be watching a movie together, sitting on Jihoon’s bed together, Jihoon’s bedroom dark aside from the yellow light of a lamp on the bedside table. It felt nice, with just the rain falling outside, quiet and intimate.
“Do you have a movie in mind?” he asked, just to say something to break the silence, and Jihoon glanced at him.
“Not really,” he confessed. “I was going to ask you.”
They each threw out a handful of titles, and as conversation began to flow, any awkwardness in the air dissipated. Jihoon even very nearly dropped his laptop at one point, falling onto his back on his bed in laughter at the expression on Mingyu’s face when he confessed that he’d never watched A Star Is Born. They both liked Marvel, they discovered, though Jihoon staunchly refused to watch Morbius, despite Mingyu saying he hadn’t seen it yet; Mingyu couldn’t help but wonder if he’d found the vampire portrayal offensive. Mingyu almost agreed with Jihoon’s Black Panther suggestion, but after Jihoon confessed that he’d already seen that movie seven times, A Star Is Born was agreed upon. Jihoon set the movie up and beckoned Mingyu up onto his bed, Mingyu trying to keep his heart calm—could Jihoon, with some kind of vampiric ability, hear how fast it was beating?—as he sat next to him.
The thing about the movie was that while Mingyu liked it and all, it was Seungkwan’s favorite movie. Being one of Seungkwan’s best friends meant that Mingyu knew the soundtrack inside and out, and some of the songs were slow. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, honestly he didn’t, but Lady Gaga’s beautiful voice and the storm outside combined to make him very drowsy, and the next thing Mingyu knew he was slumped against Jihoon's pillows, his eyes were opening to the sight of movie credits scrolling up Jihoon’s laptop screen.
He sighed and shifted, sleep-warm and content. Jihoon’s bed really was comfortable. That thought served to remind him that oh right, he was in Jihoon’s bed, glancing quickly to his right. Jihoon was still there, sitting up straight against the head of the bed, all big eyes, looking down at him.
“I wasn’t watching you sleep,” he said, quick and embarrassed in a way that made it seem like that was exactly what he’d been doing, actually. “You just, um. You were talking in your sleep. You were talking to Seungkwan and Hansol about me.”
Oh, no. Mingyu didn’t remember dreaming during his nap, but he knew he did sleep talk, and with how much Jihoon had been occupying his thoughts lately, the information didn’t surprise him.
“What did I say?” he asked, despite being pretty sure that he already knew. The whole jig was up. Mingyu had uncovered Jihoon’s biggest secret, and now Jihoon knew about it.
Sure enough, Jihoon looked nervous, glancing away from him.
“You told them that I… That you think that I’m…”
Mingyu squeezed his eyes closed, unable to hold in a wince.
“You said that you think that I’m cute.”
Mingyu’s eyes flew open. Jihoon’s face was pink.
“Oh,” Mingyu said dumbly.
He’d been sleep-talking about how cute Jihoon was. Again, not outside the realm of possibility—or even that surprising, in truth.
“I… Yeah,” he admitted. “I do think you’re cute. I—I always have, but we weren’t really friends so I never…”
He trailed off when he realized that after hearing the confirmation, Jihoon was just staring at him. He wasn't moving, wasn't even blinking; wasn't doing anything. Mingyu decided that he should probably stop talking now, should apologize and cut his losses and move past this before he said something he couldn’t take back.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, shifting, trying to sit up. “Sorry, you don’t—you probably aren’t—”
“Mingyu.” Jihoon reached out, covering Mingyu’s hand with his, both of them palm-down against the bedspread. The lamp was lit on the bedside table behind him, making his hair glow around the edges, but the blinds over the window were open and the rain clouds must have cleared up, silver light from the almost-full moon illuminating his face. He seemed to struggle internally for a moment, his next words tumbling out quickly, but not quietly; not unconfident, or unsure in any way. “I think you’re cute too.”
The words settled in the quiet darkness in the room. Mingyu was having a bit of a hard time processing them.
“Oh,” he said again.
“Yeah.”
And Mingyu—he just couldn’t help it, a smile starting on his face, going wider and wider as the confession sunk in, an incredibly giddy lightness swelling in his chest and popping into butterflies when Jihoon smiled back. He collapsed into a grateful little laugh, his shoulders falling as he inadvertently leaned in, glancing to Jihoon’s face when he felt Jihoon’s grip tighten just slightly on his hand. Jihoon was looking at him, and after a moment he reached up with his other hand, his fingers gentle against Mingyu’s jaw as he cupped his cheek. Then Jihoon leaned in and kissed him.
Jihoon’s lips were soft against his, kind and slow. It was as though Jihoon was being patient, but admittedly, Mingyu did need a moment to catch up; he was a little overwhelmed by the fact that Jihoon was kissing him, then by the fact that Jihoon thought he was cute and was kissing him, then by the fact that Jihoon liked him too and thought he was cute and was kissing him. By the time that he realized that yes, he should kiss Jihoon back, Jihoon was already pulling away.
They both took a moment to breathe, and Jihoon did look a bit hesitant now—maybe from Mingyu’s dumbfounded lack of reciprocation—but Mingyu was eager to remedy that as quickly as he could. He leaned in himself this time, nudging Jihoon’s nose with his own in permission, and when Jihoon didn’t pull away, kissed him properly.
It was cute, Jihoon’s slight inhale of surprise. The way Jihoon reached out to touch him, his fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. He seemed to want to be closer and Mingyu was more than happy to oblige, surprised by how warm Jihoon’s body felt. Maybe vampires weren’t actually cold, and Twilight had gotten that little fact wrong—that was fiction, after all—or maybe Mingyu’s body was warm enough for the both of them.
“Let me take you on a date this weekend,” Mingyu murmured, Jihoon pulling back more fully to properly look at him. “Like, a real one. So I can do this right.”
“If that would be for asking me to be your boyfriend, you already know that I’ll say yes,” Jihoon told him, a mock exasperation in his voice that was entirely unconvincing against the fondness in his tone. Mingyu hadn’t known that actually, giving Jihoon a quick peck on the lips just because he could.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked and Jihoon smiled, rolling his eyes. His gaze landed out the window for a moment, seemingly distracted by the moonlight before coming back to Mingyu’s face.
“But aren’t you busy this weekend?”
He sounded hesitant, but Mingyu realized that he was correct; Mingyu was getting on a train at noon tomorrow and going home to visit his sister, not returning until Sunday. He wasn’t sure how Jihoon knew that, but he was sure he’d mentioned his plans to his friends, and word could have easily traveled around the group.
“Oh right, thanks. I am busy. I still want to take you out, though.”
“I’m free all next week,” Jihoon told him. He looked amused again. “There’s no rush.”
No rush for him, maybe; he’d probably already been alive for a few hundred years. Mingyu wanted Jihoon to be his boyfriend as soon as possible.
But it was also getting late, and the rain had stopped, and Mingyu was now quite hungry. He didn’t want to be rude and eat in front of Jihoon so reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed with an explanation that he needed to get going to prepare for the weekend. Jihoon didn’t protest, simply nodding, though he did stop Mingyu before he left the bedroom, pulling him down for a few more head-spinning kisses. Then he walked Mingyu to the door, staunchly ignoring the raised eyebrows from both Soonyoung and Seungcheol, who were on the couch watching some drama together.
“Text me this weekend, if you want to,” he said. Something in his tone was shy, Mingyu unable to keep himself from finding it adorable as he slid his feet into a pair of Jihoon’s slides—a little too small, sure, but better than trying to put on his still-wet tennis shoes. “If you need anything, or just want to talk.”
“Okay.” Mingyu leaned down to poke Jihoon’s nose with his. He was grinning, but he couldn’t help it. “You can text me too.”
Something in Jihoon’s expression suggested that he felt like he was being teased by Mingyu’s affection, taking advantage of their proximity to give him a gentle pat on the head and a kiss farewell. Then Mingyu went home.
When Mingyu told his sister about Jihoon the next day, he expected full, enthusiastic backup. Instead, she shot holes in every single theory that he had.
“So you’re saying that the two times you think he used super speed, you were actually just disoriented and in pain?”
“I literally saw him sparkle!”
“Mingyu, he was just sweating, and you think he’s gorgeous.”
It was great to see her, though. She was as talkative as he was and they could stay that way for hours, him in the kitchen and her sprawled across the living room couch, catching up on what they’d missed in each other’s lives while he took advantage of the full spice cabinet and proper cookware and she took advantage of the fact that he would make her any food that she asked for.
They decided to have a Twilight movie marathon too, and every film was terrible, Mingyu needing a break after the first two before they put the third one on. They walked to a nearby convenience store for some ice cream, the full moon bright and high in the sky. His sister stuck close to his side, wrapping both of her arms around one of his.
“If your new boyfriend does turn out to be a vampire, don’t let him transform you, okay?” She kept her eyes on her feet as she spoke. There was a halo of light on the top of her head, with how the moonlight was hitting her shiny black hair. “We’re supposed to grow old together.”
Mingyu couldn’t help but laugh, just a little. “Okay,” he promised.
To Mingyu’s surprise, when he woke up the next day—in the afternoon, on the floor, the menu for The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 2 still up on the television screen—he had a text from Jihoon. It was a simple and short How are you?, but it brought a smile on his face all the same.
Just woke up, he sent back. He moved to sit up, giving his shoulders an experimental roll and wincing a bit. A little sore, but that’s okay.
Jihoon sent back an unexpectedly adorable frowny sticker.
I’ll be fine, Mingyu told him. He had a blanket over him and a pillow under his head, two things he hadn’t had the night before, knowing that his sister must have gotten up and taken them from her own bed for him before returning to the living room and falling asleep on the couch. My sister is taking care of me.
She was still asleep, her mouth slightly open, Mingyu taking a quick picture to tease her with later before getting up to start on breakfast.
The weekend ended way too soon, his sister walking him to the train station on Sunday evening, letting him wrap her up in a huge hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. After making him promise not to wait so long before seeing her again, and to tell her how things went on his upcoming date with Jihoon, they said their goodbyes and he was off.
Mingyu spent most of the ride texting Jihoon, telling him about the weekend, asking him how he’d spent the time, and formally inviting him on a stargazing date—something out of the sun and not involving food, which had taken some thought to come up with but felt pretty perfect—on Tuesday night. Mingyu fully planned on waiting until then to actually see him in person again, but by the time he’d gotten to campus he felt a little too eager, asking if it would be okay to stop by under the very flimsy excuse that he needed to return Jihoon’s clothes to him.
I’m at the music building right now, Jihoon told him. Let me know when you’re home, and I’ll go to your place.
Mingyu did a quick tidy of the living room when he arrived, washing himself up a bit before telling Jihoon to come over. He was so excited that when the door was finally knocked on he leapt from the couch to open it, nearly tripping over his own feet, having to steady himself against the doorknob and feeling a little breathless when he swung the door open.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” Jihoon responded, a grin on his face. Mingyu smiled back before remembering himself, moving aside quickly so Jihoon could enter.
“Come in!” he insisted. “I—I’m inviting you in. You’re invited to come in whenever you want to.”
“Um… Thanks,” Jihoon said as he came inside, seeming a bit taken aback by the words. Mingyu probably could have done that in a more natural way, he realized, but he was just trying to cover all of his bases and make Jihoon feel welcome. “How are you?”
“Better, now that you’re here.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes, the gesture making Mingyu giggle because Jihoon was tilting his chin up at the same time, rising onto the balls of his feet. It was a request for a kiss and it was unbearably precious, Mingyu leaning down obligingly, smiling as Jihoon’s lips met his.
Jihoon seemed very eager to kiss him, his arms coming up to wrap themselves around Mingyu’s neck, stepping up to move in closer. It was something that Mingyu hadn’t expected but certainly wasn’t complaining about, and after a moment he pulled back, stuttering out an embarrassed suggestion of taking this to the couch. That had Jihoon laughing, standing between Mingyu’s spread knees once Mingyu sat down, taking Mingyu’s head in his hands and brushing his thumbs against Mingyu's pink cheeks. His fingertips were cold again.
“It kind of seems like you missed me,” Mingyu said. Jihoon didn’t confirm the statement but he didn’t deny it either, reaching up with one hand to run his fingers through Mingyu’s bangs. “It’s sweet.”
“I’m not sweet,” Jihoon countered, an adorable little frown on his face at the words, petting at Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu leaned up into the touch, basking in it a little. “I’m just glad you had a good weekend. I’m glad you were with your sister.”
“Sounds pretty sweet to me,” Mingyu told him, pulling Jihoon in to kiss him again.
As soon as Jihoon’s lips were on his, the eagerness was back. Before long, Jihoon was crawling up onto the couch with him, up into Mingyu’s lap, pushing Mingyu against the back cushions with the weight of his body and kissing him more firmly, a hand sliding into his hair. Mingyu couldn’t help a gasp as Jihoon’s lips left his and landed on his neck, pressing light kisses into his skin.
“It’s okay,” Mingyu told him. “You can bite if you want to.”
Jihoon’s entire body went still at those words, pulling back to look at Mingyu’s face, searching his eyes.
“What?”
“It’s okay,” Mingyu repeated, keeping his head tilted, his neck exposed. “I trust you, and I don’t want this to be hard for you, so if—you can drink some, if you’re hungry. I don’t mind.”
“Mingyu.” Jihoon’s eyes had not left his, his eyebrows furrowed, and Mingyu realized that the expression on his face wasn’t just surprise; it was confusion, too. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
Mingyu blinked, feeling just as bewildered. “Are you not a vampire?” he asked. Jihoon’s mouth began to open, the corners of it curled into an amused smile, but the expression froze before it was fully realized.
“Oh, you’re serious,” he said. “This isn’t a joke. You’re actually serious.”
Mingyu studied Jihoon’s face. First Jihoon had been confused, then thought Mingyu was kidding around, and now was looking at him like he had two heads. If this was acting in an attempt to throw him off, then Jihoon was doing it incredibly well. Too well, really. Instead, Mingyu couldn’t help but find the reactions genuine, which really meant only one thing.
“I’m guessing this means that the answer is no,” he said sheepishly. Jihoon looked at him for a moment more, then covered his face with his hands. He still hadn’t gotten up out of his lap though, so Mingyu was taking that as a good sign, anxious to remedy the situation.
“I can explain,” he said quickly, and that made Jihoon lift his head. “I—like, yeah, I know how it sounds but… I have reasons.”
“Please,” Jihoon requested.
Mingyu recounted the basketball incident from his point of view, about Jihoon’s cold hands and super speed and super strength. Jihoon sat there for a moment, mulling all of it over, then stared Mingyu full in the face.
“How did you not see me walking up?” he asked. “Seungcheol even waved at me. I—I was cold, but I’d just come from the Music Building, and that place is always freezing. And…” Jihoon seemed to get genuinely upset, a small spark of hurt in his eyes. “I go to the gym with Seungcheol and Soonyoung. Just because I’m short, that doesn’t mean—”
“No!” Mingyu exclaimed, desperate to let Jihoon know that his height was not a factor here. “No, I’ve just—I’m so clumsy, I’ve barreled over like three people at once before, so… so I really thought that you keeping me on my feet like that had to be impossible.”
Jihoon examined his face for a moment, then seemed to deem Mingyu’s answer acceptable and stayed seated, though he leaned back and crossed his arms. Worried about Jihoon’s center of balance, Mingyu put his arms around him, interlocking his fingers at Jihoon’s lower back. Jihoon allowed the contact.
“Plus, you’re so pale—”
“Born that way.”
“You don’t go outside—”
“Don’t like people.”
“Drink from a red soda can—you know, red like blood—”
“Like Coca-Cola, Mingyu.”
“Okay!” Mingyu gave Jihoon’s body a squeeze. “Okay. It was dumb. I know it was dumb. I got… I got caught up, I guess. Maybe I just had a hard time believing that someone like you was real.”
The compliment got an upturned quirk of Jihoon’s lips, begrudging but pleased.
“I’m not a vampire,” he said. “No blood, no fangs—” he lifted his lip with one finger to show his flat upper teeth “—no turning into a bat. I love instant ramen, and I can go outside, and I can see my reflection in the mirror. Okay?”
“Okay,” Mingyu mumbled. His reaction made Jihoon laugh, just a little, cupping Mingyu’s face in his hands again. “That… I mean, that is a relief, honestly.”
“Why?” Jihoon asked. He brushed over Mingyu’s cheeks with his thumbs again. “Is there some rule that says that vampires and werewolves can’t date each other?”
“Oh, ha ha.” Some teasing was warranted, Mingyu supposed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pout about it. “Vampires and werewolves, very funny.”
Jihoon was grinning at his petulance. “I am making fun of you, but I am asking, too. It seems interesting.”
And that seemed true, a curious glint in his eye. Mingyu stared at him for a moment, then the truth sunk in.
“Oh. You’re serious too.”
Jihoon stared back. Blinked.
“No I’m not,” he tried to say, but the way he was lighting up pink was a dead giveaway. He began trying to get out of Mingyu’s lap, definitely wanting to run off, but Mingyu knew that they needed to talk about this, putting one hand on Jihoon’s thigh and using the other to hold onto his arm.
“You—you think that I’m… what? A werewolf?”
“It made sense!” Jihoon protested. He wasn’t trying to get up anymore, so when he tugged at his arm, Mingyu let it go. “And when you said the vampire thing, that meant that being a supernatural creature wasn’t impossible, so I knew that I was right.”
Mingyu wasn’t sure he followed that logic. It seemed like it didn’t account for the idea of Mingyu being a complete idiot.
“Please explain this,” he asked. Jihoon’s lips were pursed tightly together, avoiding Mingyu’s eyes, looking like he very much wanted to be anywhere but here. Then he let out a long, slow breath.
“I first noticed it when you brought that food over,” he said.
“That was actually a trick to see if you would eat human food or not,” Mingyu told him. “I thought it was pretty suspicious that you couldn’t go into Seungcheol’s room without permission.”
Jihoon treated him to a completely unamused look.
“Hey!” Mingyu squeaked in protest. “It got us talking, didn’t it? So that’s a good thing, right?”
“Well, I thought it was suspicious that your twisted ankle had healed so fast, and then you said that you couldn’t eat chocolate,” Jihoon said. “Plus, you said that you like going on walks and playing games where you chase a ball, and you seemed to like it when I pet you on the head, and you look and act all…”
Jihoon seemed to run out of words, just doing a giant gesture to Mingyu’s entire body for his last point. Mingyu wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean.
“That’s all of your evidence?” he asked.
“Well, this weekend was really what convinced me,” Jihoon confessed. There was a sigh in his voice. Mingyu frowned.
“But we didn’t see each other this weekend.”
“Yeah. Exactly.” Jihoon finally looked up and properly met his eyes. “I asked if you were busy, and you said that you were.”
“I’m not following,” Mingyu told him.
“This weekend was a full moon,” Jihoon said, like it was obvious. “The morning after it happened, I texted you. You didn’t respond until three in the afternoon, saying that you’d just woken up, and that your body was sore, but your sister was taking care of you. It all seemed like it fit.”
It did fit. Mingyu knew, if the roles had been reversed, that would have been more than enough evidence to convince him that a wolf transformation had happened the night before.
“I woke up late because we’d been watching movies all night,” Mingyu explained. “I’d fallen asleep on the floor, but she put a blanket over me and a pillow under my head. That’s all that I meant.” He felt strangely touched that Jihoon had asked after him, instead of being afraid. “Is that why you were concerned about me?”
“I was worried that it might hurt,” Jihoon said. His eyes were on his hands, resting in his lap. “In movies, werewolves are always chained up, and… and they’re screaming. It looks so painful. I didn’t want that to happen to you.”
Mingyu’s heart was in real danger of melting right out of his chest and into a puddle on the floor.
“Well, I’m not a werewolf,” he said. “No transforming, so you don’t need to worry about that, okay? And I lied about the chocolate—I was just afraid of the blood soda.”
“It’s not blood!” Jihoon insisted. “That’s so dumb, seriously. Everyone in the apartment just likes drinking it, okay?”
He was frowning. It was adorable. Mingyu wrapped his arms around Jihoon again, then leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.
“You really would have been okay with dating me, even if I was a werewolf?” he asked, giving Jihoon’s body a quick squeeze.
“The transforming thing is only one day out of the month, it’s not like it’s a dealbreaker,” Jihoon retorted, still seeming a bit too defensive about his Coca-Cola habits. “You wanted to date me, even though you thought I drank actual human blood.”
Okay, Jihoon definitely had a point there; the blood thing was arguably and objectively worse. But hey, the heart wants what it wants, and Mingyu’s wanted Jihoon.
“Jihoon, I think—and I mean this in the least romantic way possible—” The disclaimer had Jihoon glancing up to meet Mingyu’s eyes. “I think that we might be perfect for each other.”
The words brought a small smile to Jihoon’s lips.
“Because we’re both idiots?” he asked.
“Yep.”
The straightforward admittance had Jihoon laughing, leaning in to kiss Mingyu again. His hands made a slow trail up Mingyu’s chest, looping comfortably around his neck, Mingyu giving a light, happy hum as one of them threaded up into his hair, Jihoon’s fingers playing lightly with the strands. The sound had Jihoon smiling against his lips until he couldn’t properly kiss back, leaning away to look at him.
“Do you still want me to pet you on the head?” he asked. Mingyu figured that he should probably be embarrassed by the question, but he wasn’t.
“Yes please,” he said instead, so Jihoon reached up and did it, making Mingyu giggle and kiss him on the cheek.
“Well,” Jihoon remarked, his hand still on the top of Mingyu’s head, palm-flat. “At least I know what to be for Halloween this year.”
Mingyu wrapped Jihoon’s entire body up in a hug, laughing so hard that both of them completely fell off the couch.