Ship/Member: Minghao/Seokmin Major Tags: university, infidelity (mentioned, not the main pairing) Additional Tags: looking for love in all the wrong places, emotionally fraught office hours Permission to remix: yes
Xu Minghao’s here for office hours again.
He waited outside Seokmin’s office for a full twenty minutes as Seokmin helped Ju Seohee work through her first draft and Seokmin couldn’t stop flicking his eyes up to meet Minghao’s as he spoke to her, the warmth of Minghao’s gaze impossible to resist.
Why are you here? he wants to ask. It’s not like Minghao doesn’t have someone else he can ask for help.
Seokmin knows, after all. He may be a fool but he’s not completely oblivious. He goes to all the literary department social functions, too. He’s seen the way Minghao looks at Dr. Im.
He’s seen the way Dr. Im looks back, too. It makes Seokmin’s heart speed up, and his palms sweat. Not nerves, but —
Anger, he thinks, shamefully, able to admit it only to himself. Jealousy.
Minghao’s an adult. It isn’t any of Seokmin’s business what he does. It isn’t Seokmin’s place to say anything. No matter if there are twenty years between Minghao and Dr. Im, or if Dr. Im has two children at home, or if Seokmin caught Minghao sitting out by the fountain after the department dinner with tears staining his cheeks.
It isn’t Seokmin’s place to take care of him, either.
“Hello,” he says politely, when he’s bid Seohee farewell and it’s Minghao’s turn to come closer, finally. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Minghao hesitates, curiously, when Seokmin gestures to the open seat next to him. Seokmin’s smile wavers just the slightest bit.
“Is something the matter?”
At the sound of Seokmin’s voice Minghao shakes his head as if startled, plastering a deliberate sort of smile onto his face.
“No,” he says decisively, coming forward to sit.
“Well, then,” Seokmin starts, leaving room for the unspoken question. When Minghao doesn’t fill it he keeps going, forcing a confidence into his voice that he doesn’t feel at all. “Did you have a question about the assigned material?”
He can’t imagine that Minghao does. Minghao is much more advanced than Seokmin, and has a better mind for the subject. Seokmin isn’t like Minghao. He only studies poetry, he doesn’t write it. He doesn’t have any creativity in him at all, not like Minghao or Dr. Im. Minghao would do a better job in Seokmin’s place, probably, it’s just that Seokmin’s the one who needs the money, so here he is.
Sure enough, Minghao shakes his head at Seokmin’s offer.
“No,” he says again, rifling in his bag to pull out a notebook. It’s clearly for personal use, too small and too worn to be for class notes or assignments. Seokmin watches, curious, as he slips the cover open and starts to turn through the pages in search of something.
“I wanted to ask you to read this for me,” Minghao says, still looking down at the page in front of him.
“Oh,” Seokmin says, surprised. “Is that — ”
“It’s not an assignment,” Minghao says hurriedly, finally pulling his gaze back up. His cheeks are pink, Seokmin can’t help but notice. The blush looks sweet on him. “I just wanted….” Minghao trails off before he can finish, too embarrassed to finish, and Seokmin jumps in before he can flounder.
“Of course,” he reassures him. “Of course! I just don’t know — I don’t know if I’ll have anything helpful to say?”
He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, wavering uncertainly between them. There’s a flush his own cheeks, now, the back of his neck heating up to match. Minghao only shakes his head, though, looking sure of himself.
“That’s okay,” he says quietly. His gaze drifts back down to the page in front of him, then up again. “I just want someone to read it, that’s all.”
Strange.
Seokmin smiles encouragingly at him, then, his confidence boosted by Minghao’s certainty, and he takes the notebook when Minghao passes it over.
His smile fades as he reads through once, then again to be sure, his heart rising up in his throat as the meaning sinks in.
“Minghao-ssi,” he says quietly. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Minghao’s knee bouncing up and down anxiously, the bone of it visible through the wool of his trousers.
“Seokmin-ssi,” Minghao answers, just as quietly. His knee is still shaking, but his voice doesn’t tremble as he speaks.
“Why are you showing this to me?” Seokmin asks carefully, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he can. He doesn’t want Minghao to think it’s an accusation. He just doesn’t know what Minghao wants him to do with it, that’s all. He wants Minghao to tell him what to do.
Minghao’s knee stops moving suddenly, as though he’s forced it still. Seokmin forces himself to wait patiently as Minghao swallows hard, then bites his lip. The skin turns white under his teeth, then flushes red with blood as he lets it go.
“I wanted,” he starts, voice nearly a whisper. Seokmin nods encouragingly, watching as his eyes flutter shut. “I wanted someone to know,” Minghao finishes, eyes still closed. “That’s all.”
Seokmin’s breath catches. He still has the notebook open, one hand on top of the page. He can feel the indentations in the paper where the pen dug in, rough under his fingertips. He takes his hand away very slowly, careful as he closes the notebook. He doesn’t hand it back.
“Thank you,” he says. “For trusting me.”
Minghao nods tightly. His eyes are still closed, but they startle open when Seokmin reaches over to touch his hand. Seokmin’s embarrassed, but he looks Minghao in the eye as he speaks.
“Do you want me to hold onto this?”
The words feel clumsy coming out of his mouth. He holds up the notebook as he asks, hoping desperately that he’s read it right and his offer isn’t completely out of line. He nearly panics when Minghao only stares at him, blank faced and miserable, and he’s opening his mouth to take it back when Minghao lets out a breath and nods, shoulders sagging with something that must be relief. The look on his face makes Seokmin ache. He wants to wrap Minghao in his arms and tell him he’ll be fine. He wants to press a kiss to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and hold his mouth there until it eases.
“You don’t have to worry about it anymore,” he says solemnly, instead. “I’ll carry it for you. ”
I've rolled on velvet cushions where I heard Always slept, and I once tried to kiss Always, but I don't think it was the Always I was looking for. I like your Always, it looks such a demanding pet. It looks like it kisses nice and soft. It looks like the bruise I found flowering on my knee. I fell down at your voice.
[FILL] i have never seen an Always
Major Tags: university, infidelity (mentioned, not the main pairing)
Additional Tags: looking for love in all the wrong places, emotionally fraught office hours
Permission to remix: yes
Xu Minghao’s here for office hours again.
He waited outside Seokmin’s office for a full twenty minutes as Seokmin helped Ju Seohee work through her first draft and Seokmin couldn’t stop flicking his eyes up to meet Minghao’s as he spoke to her, the warmth of Minghao’s gaze impossible to resist.
Why are you here? he wants to ask. It’s not like Minghao doesn’t have someone else he can ask for help.
Seokmin knows, after all. He may be a fool but he’s not completely oblivious. He goes to all the literary department social functions, too. He’s seen the way Minghao looks at Dr. Im.
He’s seen the way Dr. Im looks back, too. It makes Seokmin’s heart speed up, and his palms sweat. Not nerves, but —
Anger, he thinks, shamefully, able to admit it only to himself. Jealousy.
Minghao’s an adult. It isn’t any of Seokmin’s business what he does. It isn’t Seokmin’s place to say anything. No matter if there are twenty years between Minghao and Dr. Im, or if Dr. Im has two children at home, or if Seokmin caught Minghao sitting out by the fountain after the department dinner with tears staining his cheeks.
It isn’t Seokmin’s place to take care of him, either.
“Hello,” he says politely, when he’s bid Seohee farewell and it’s Minghao’s turn to come closer, finally. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Minghao hesitates, curiously, when Seokmin gestures to the open seat next to him. Seokmin’s smile wavers just the slightest bit.
“Is something the matter?”
At the sound of Seokmin’s voice Minghao shakes his head as if startled, plastering a deliberate sort of smile onto his face.
“No,” he says decisively, coming forward to sit.
“Well, then,” Seokmin starts, leaving room for the unspoken question. When Minghao doesn’t fill it he keeps going, forcing a confidence into his voice that he doesn’t feel at all. “Did you have a question about the assigned material?”
He can’t imagine that Minghao does. Minghao is much more advanced than Seokmin, and has a better mind for the subject. Seokmin isn’t like Minghao. He only studies poetry, he doesn’t write it. He doesn’t have any creativity in him at all, not like Minghao or Dr. Im. Minghao would do a better job in Seokmin’s place, probably, it’s just that Seokmin’s the one who needs the money, so here he is.
Sure enough, Minghao shakes his head at Seokmin’s offer.
“No,” he says again, rifling in his bag to pull out a notebook. It’s clearly for personal use, too small and too worn to be for class notes or assignments. Seokmin watches, curious, as he slips the cover open and starts to turn through the pages in search of something.
“I wanted to ask you to read this for me,” Minghao says, still looking down at the page in front of him.
“Oh,” Seokmin says, surprised. “Is that — ”
“It’s not an assignment,” Minghao says hurriedly, finally pulling his gaze back up. His cheeks are pink, Seokmin can’t help but notice. The blush looks sweet on him. “I just wanted….” Minghao trails off before he can finish, too embarrassed to finish, and Seokmin jumps in before he can flounder.
“Of course,” he reassures him. “Of course! I just don’t know — I don’t know if I’ll have anything helpful to say?”
He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, wavering uncertainly between them. There’s a flush his own cheeks, now, the back of his neck heating up to match. Minghao only shakes his head, though, looking sure of himself.
“That’s okay,” he says quietly. His gaze drifts back down to the page in front of him, then up again. “I just want someone to read it, that’s all.”
Strange.
Seokmin smiles encouragingly at him, then, his confidence boosted by Minghao’s certainty, and he takes the notebook when Minghao passes it over.
His smile fades as he reads through once, then again to be sure, his heart rising up in his throat as the meaning sinks in.
“Minghao-ssi,” he says quietly. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Minghao’s knee bouncing up and down anxiously, the bone of it visible through the wool of his trousers.
“Seokmin-ssi,” Minghao answers, just as quietly. His knee is still shaking, but his voice doesn’t tremble as he speaks.
“Why are you showing this to me?” Seokmin asks carefully, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he can. He doesn’t want Minghao to think it’s an accusation. He just doesn’t know what Minghao wants him to do with it, that’s all. He wants Minghao to tell him what to do.
Minghao’s knee stops moving suddenly, as though he’s forced it still. Seokmin forces himself to wait patiently as Minghao swallows hard, then bites his lip. The skin turns white under his teeth, then flushes red with blood as he lets it go.
“I wanted,” he starts, voice nearly a whisper. Seokmin nods encouragingly, watching as his eyes flutter shut. “I wanted someone to know,” Minghao finishes, eyes still closed. “That’s all.”
Seokmin’s breath catches. He still has the notebook open, one hand on top of the page. He can feel the indentations in the paper where the pen dug in, rough under his fingertips. He takes his hand away very slowly, careful as he closes the notebook. He doesn’t hand it back.
“Thank you,” he says. “For trusting me.”
Minghao nods tightly. His eyes are still closed, but they startle open when Seokmin reaches over to touch his hand. Seokmin’s embarrassed, but he looks Minghao in the eye as he speaks.
“Do you want me to hold onto this?”
The words feel clumsy coming out of his mouth. He holds up the notebook as he asks, hoping desperately that he’s read it right and his offer isn’t completely out of line. He nearly panics when Minghao only stares at him, blank faced and miserable, and he’s opening his mouth to take it back when Minghao lets out a breath and nods, shoulders sagging with something that must be relief. The look on his face makes Seokmin ache. He wants to wrap Minghao in his arms and tell him he’ll be fine. He wants to press a kiss to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and hold his mouth there until it eases.
“You don’t have to worry about it anymore,” he says solemnly, instead. “I’ll carry it for you. ”