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Seungcheol grimaced slightly, looking out the glass door of the ice cream shop to the overcrowded sands of Gwangalli Beach. They were opening in five minutes, and with both Dokyeom and Wonwoo having called out—and Seungkwan not scheduled, but Seungcheol refusing to be the manager that called people in on their well-deserved days off—they’d be running the shop with a skeleton crew of himself, Minghao, and the new hire Jihoon. Which was manageable on maybe a Tuesday or something, but on Saturday, when July temperatures had been record-breaking all week? It was guaranteed to be sticky, sprinkle-covered chaos.
“Looks like it’s going to be really busy today,” he told them both. He’d just seen three different groups of teenagers look hopefully at the door, notice that the “closed” sign hadn’t been flipped to “open”, and glance away again. Minghao was refilling the toppings station, while Jihoon had already positioned himself behind the register. It was going to be Jihoon’s first time doing a customer-facing job without Seungkwan next to him, and he looked uneasy about it. “I’ll do everything I can to help you guys out, and Jihoon-ssi, if you need help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask me or Myungho.”
Jihoon nodded a little. He’d been hired just a week ago, so while he was technically still in training, he’d picked up the job pretty fast. He was kind enough, but he was also pretty quiet, keeping to himself. Because of this, most of what Seungcheol knew about Jihoon were things he’d found out during his interview: he was a college student, like most of the employees were, attending Busan Arts College and wanting a way to make some extra money during his lighter summer semester. Seasonal employees at the ice cream shop were common, Jihoon filling the last available position. Unfortunately, the past month and a half had felt like a constant scramble with how much business they’d been getting, Seungcheol thinking that he might have to hire at least one more.
“Okay. Are we ready?” Seungcheol asked. Minghao finished up with the container of chopped peanuts and stepped away, brushing his hands on his apron before positioning himself behind the counter, holding up his ice cream scooper as though ready to march into battle. Jihoon just nodded again. Seungcheol nodded back, opening the door and flipping the closed sign around.
The door was open so often that sometimes, it didn’t feel as though the air conditioner in the shop was even on. Minghao’s ability to keep a straight face when someone ordered a disgusting mix of flavors and toppings degraded rapidly after about an hour and a half. Jihoon held on for a bit longer, but on hour three, his customer service smile began to slip; he winced so horribly when a little girl started scream-crying about dropping her ice cream cone on the floor that Seungcheol decided that as soon as he had the mess cleaned up, he would take over the register and let Jihoon take an extra break—the back of the shop could get pretty quiet with the doors closed, and the storage freezers were big enough to lie down on—but in the middle of Minghao making the little girl a replacement cone, the front door chime!-ed open, and Jihoon smiled.
It was a small smile, but also clearly a real, genuine one. Looking over, it wasn’t hard to see why. It was just one customer, a man—an absolute tree of a man, really—in a surprisingly open drop-arm tanktop and above-the-knee shorts, the bicep in his arm bulging as he reached up to flip his sunglasses to rest on the back of his head. His chocolate brown hair was mussed by the sea breeze and his golden skin was damp with sweat in a way that had him sparkling under the overhead lights. He was so shockingly handsome that Seungcheol looked around, thinking that this had to be some sort of celebrity, but there wasn’t anyone outside that suggested some kind of security or media presence. The man smiled back at Jihoon as he walked up to the counter.
“Hey.”
Seungcheol blinked. He’d never heard a single word sound so flirtatious before. And, shockingly…
“Hello,” Jihoon responded. The smile hadn’t faded.
“I heard this place was busy today, and wanted to check it out. One ice cream, please.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes. That was not customer service procedure, not at all, but the customer didn’t seem to mind; instead, he just beamed, clearly taking the action as playful, leaning a bit closer towards the register. Maybe they knew each other?
“You’re going to have to order something specific,” Jihoon said.
“I want to know what you recommend…” The customer’s eyes flicked to Jihoon’s name tag. “Jihoon-ssi.”
Oh. So, they didn’t know each other? That gave Seungcheol half a mind to step in, because being flirted with while at work could be tough, despite how well Jihoon seemed to be handling the interaction. He’d make his way over once he had all of this strawberry swirl mopped up.
The man tested three flavors before settling on mango, and with how standard the rest of the interaction ended up being, Seungcheol ultimately kept his distance and just watched. It was impossible to miss the way the tension seemed to have faded from Jihoon’s shoulders, the way Jihoon’s ears lit up when the customer winked at him as he handed over his card, the way Jihoon’s eyes lingered on the customer as he made his way out. Minghao caught Seungcheol’s eye, raising an eyebrow, but Seungcheol didn’t find it too strange; being flirted with by an extremely hot guy, when in the mood for it, was also a pretty reliable mood booster. Maybe Jihoon had just been in the mood for it, and Seungcheol didn’t know him well enough to tell.
The post-lunch rush ended with enough of a lull for them to get themselves ready for the post-dinner rush and then, finally, the day was over. Seungcheol high-fived both Jihoon and Minghao and praised them for such hard work, telling them that he’d handle final clean up, and they could head on home. He wanted a bit of fresh air before getting started on the impending sweeping and mopping though, stepping outside while the two gathered their belongings and seeing, to his surprise, the handsome customer from before leaning against the side of the building.
“Oh, hello,” Seungcheol said, the man straightening up to duck his head in greeting. With the sun in the middle of setting, he had his sunglasses on backwards again. Was it weird to have remembered him? Seungcheol wasn’t sure, but the customer didn’t seem surprised by it. “I’m sorry, we just closed.”
“That’s alright! I’m just waiting for someone,” the man said. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”
“Choi Seungcheol,” Seungcheol returned with. Through surprisingly easy small talk, he learned that Mingyu was also just a college student, a few years younger than him, and was looking for something to do with himself during the summer.
“Well, this might be odd, but you saw how busy it was in there today,” Seungcheol said, jerking his thumb towards the ice cream shop door. “I’m looking for one more seasonal employee, if you’d like to apply.”
Mingyu beamed at him. It was a bit dizzying, being hit with the full force of that smile, pretty teeth with pointed canines and genuinely happy eyes.
“I’ll have to think about it, but I think I will,” he said.
“Looking forward to it,” Seungcheol said. He’d have to check in with Jihoon of course, and make sure that the interaction had actually been as welcome as it seemed, but if it had, then… having someone around that could make Jihoon blush might be extremely fun.
“And now you use the ice cream scooper to push the ice cream into the—ah,” Seungkwan said, trailing off as yet another ice cream cone cracked in Mingyu’s hands.
Sorry!” Mingyu said, a mix of fretful and disappointed, looking down at his hands, at the heavy metal scoop and the cracked waffle cone. “I didn’t—it’s hard.”
As the assistant manager, it was Seungkwan’s job to train the new hires. Mingyu had been hired just three days ago, and in most other aspects, he was a great employee; he was fantastic with customers, he was always in a positive mood, he saw down time as an opportunity to clean up or restock, and his ability to decorate the specials board was already on par with Minghao’s. He was just… clumsy.
“It’s alright,” Seungkwan said, patting Mingyu’s arm. “We’ll just keep you on cups for now.”
“You can use the sample spoons,” Jihoon said, both of them turning around. Jihoon was supposed to be on break; Seungkwan didn’t know that he’d been there, leaning against the open breakroom door and watching them. For someone so physically dense, Jihoon was shockingly quiet on his feet. “Or—that’s what Seokmin does, when the cone is too small.”
“Ah. Thanks, hyung.” Mingyu’s smile was a bit toothy, a bit bashful. He handed out the suavest smiles whenever he was working the register, and was very easygoing when talking to his coworkers, but Seungkwan couldn’t help but notice how different he could be with Jihoon. He got all shy and sweet and shockingly, even more clumsy, following him around like a puppy when the shop closed and everyone was cleaning up. And, though he never said it—or even directly showed it, really—Seungkwan had a hunch that Jihoon liked the attention.
Technically, the sample spoons were only supposed to be used for samples, since they were handed out for free, but Seungkwan was too distracted by the interaction to correct them. Besides, what they would spend in buying more tiny plastic spoons was probably less than what they would spend in buying extra cones, so it was probably fine.
“Alright, you can start your break now, and when you come back, I want you to shadow Wonwoo-hyung on the register,” Seungkwan said, Mingyu’s eyes not returning to him until halfway through the sentence. “Come find me when it’s time for closing, and I’ll show you how we sanitize the empty ice cream trays. You can eat that cone, if you want.”
“Okay!” Mingyu said brightly, taking off towards the back, broken cone in hand. After another moment of leaning against the frame, a ghost of a smile on his lips, Jihoon pushed up and followed after him.
Seungkwan pulled up the empty vanilla ice cream tray, getting ready to take it to the back when Seungcheol popped his head out of his office. The shop was currently void of customers, but he seemed to be checking for employees too, deeming it safe and stepping out.
“Hey, Kwan-ah, I know I put out this month’s schedule already, but I’m trying to work Mingyu in and there have been a few changes. Are there any days you had off before that you need to keep free?”
He had a physical piece of paper in his hand, a calendar printed on it, a pencil in the other hand. Seungkwan glanced down at it.
“We don’t usually schedule new people together,” he said, pointing down at it. Seungcheol had, for some reason, penciled in Mingyu and Jihoon on almost all the same shifts, with the same days off as well.
“Jihoon’s pretty close to being fully trained by now, isn’t he?” Seungcheol asked. Which sure, that was kind of true, but…
"He's still new.”
“I—okay,” Seungcheol sighed a bit, looking around again, like Seungkwan had caught him in a lie. “Listen. I think Jihoon has a crush on Mingyu, so… I’m trying to set them up. Not seriously!” he added, when Seungkwan gaped a bit. “But, you know. A bit of a nudge, or whatever.”
“You think Jihoon likes Mingyu?” Seungkwan asked, lowering his voice slightly. He hadn’t seen this yet, but he needed to. Jihoon didn’t really share anything personal or join in on small talk, making him a mystery that Seungkwan wanted to unravel. Seungcheol looked surprised by his surprise.
“Yes…?”
“Okay. That’s great.”
“It is?”
“Yes!” Seungkwan grabbed at Seungcheol's shoulder, giving it a little shake. “Mingyu-ssi totally has a crush on Jihoon-ssi too. We need a plan.”
”Ugh,” Jihoon muttered, trying to pour the refill chocolate sauce into the squeeze bottle that they kept up front. Minghao had been doing the same with a handful of their sprinkle containers—with, admittedly, a much higher level of success—as Mingyu entered the back room for his lunch break. “This stuff gets everywhere.”
True to his grumbling, he’d gotten chocolate sauce on his fingers, the dark topping stark against his pale skin. Mingyu grinned at his discomfort, looking noticeably enamored as he wetted a clean washcloth in the sink and walked over to him. Minghao froze, committed to watching and listening.
Yesterday, Seungkwan had told he and Seokmin about the need to form a plan. Apparently, Jihoon and Mingyu had crushes on each other, but because Jihoon was too shy and Mingyu was too respectful, they needed a nudge to get together.
Minghao wasn’t sure that he believed in meddling with the personal lives of his coworkers, so he hadn’t exactly agreed to help. Unfortunately though, between himself, Seokmin, and Seungkwan, he was the best at watching, listening, and being confided in, so he’d begrudgingly agreed to be the eyes and ears his coworkers needed for them to do the meddling.
And sue him, he couldn’t resist a little relationship drama.
“I know, I had some on the back of my neck the other day.”
Mingyu was turned away from Minghao, but Minghao could hear the smile in his voice, moving to hand the washcloth over. Instead of taking it, Jihoon held his hand in Mingyu’s direction, huffing out a breath. His expression seemed a little deadpan, a little grumpy, but that wasn’t completely definitive, when Jihoon was involved; Minghao couldn’t discern if the sound was amused or annoyed.
“Trust me, I remember.”
Mingyu must have done something with his face, because Jihoon’s lips turned up into a grin.
“It could have been worse,” Mingyu said, reaching out, his fingers light around Jihoon’s wrist. “The sanding sugar is so gritty, and the gummy bears—”
He swept his washcloth-holding hand towards the toppings refill area and, consequently, towards Minghao, who was still holding his half-full container of jimmy sprinkles. They both seemed to freeze and Minghao, with a small smile, waved the container in a bit of a nonsensical way and darted towards the break room doors, back out into the front of the shop.
The space was empty of customers, nobody there except for Seokmin, who was standing behind the register and holding a vanilla cone he’d clearly just made for himself, decorated with peanuts, caramel sauce, and the last of the quin sprinkles—which he was going to refill himself, because Minghao was not going back there. Minghao rushed to him, eyes wide. Seokmin caught the expression immediately and, because he was Seokmin, his own eyes widened in response.
”What?” he asked, hurrying towards Minghao in return, his voice hushed. “What is it?”
”Mingyu-ssi and Jihoon-ssi were definitely flirting back there,” Minghao said, having to lean back before Seokmin accidentally smushed his large vanilla cone against the front of his apron. “They were talking about…”
”About what?” Seokmin asked, wholly and completely invested and suddenly, Minghao did feel a bit bad. Ever since the “put Mingyu and Jihoon on the same shifts until they kiss” plan had been unveiled, their newest coworkers had been the unknowing subjects of almost one hundred percent of the workplace gossip. But then Seokmin’s eyes went wide, looking at him. “Myungho-yah, please?”
”They were talking about licking chocolate sauce off each other. I think.”
Seokmin gaped. “No. What? Are you sure?”
”Well… no,” Minghao admitted, because no, he hadn’t heard that exact phrase, but still. “That’s what it seemed like, though.”
Seokmin did seem to deflate at that, as though it were just too good to be true, giving his ice cream a rather obscene lick.
“Not that there isn’t something going on,” he said, in a way that seemed almost placating. “There definitely is. Like, the other day I totally saw Jihoon-hyung wearing a jacket that I know belongs to Mingyu-ssi.”
”They could just own the same jacket.”
”It had the same stain!” Seokmin insisted. “Plus, that time that Jihoon-hyung fed Mingyu-ssi a bite of his own lunch, with his own chopsticks.”
”Neither of us saw that,” Minghao reminded him. It was the most compelling piece of evidence that they had, but Minghao couldn’t ignore that it was nothing more than a testimonial from Seungkwan. It might be real—from everything Minghao knew about Jihoon, that didn’t seem extremely likely—or Seungkwan just wanted to bring everyone over to his cause. He was the most excited to play matchmaker; Minghao wouldn’t put it past him to invent some propaganda. Thinking about it now, even the idea that Minghao had overheard what he’d thought he’d heard was feeling silly. That was an absolutely ridiculous thing to talk about at work, even if they had forgotten that Minghao was in the room. Jihoon was so chill, and so quiet. Maybe Minghao had misunderstood.
Before Seokmin could offer up a defense, Mingyu walked back in. He had a smile on his face, his cheeks a bit pink, running his hands through his hair. His eyes were singularly focused on the water bottle he’d seemingly left on the counter, and he had a smudge of something dark at the edge of his jaw, Minghao squinting at it. Seokmin licked his ice cream again.
“Hey, Mingyu-ssi?”
“What’s up?”
”Do you like Jihoon-hyung?”
Well. That was straightforward. If Mingyu thought the question to be an odd one, he didn’t show it, answering easily.
“Yeah, of course.” His smile widened, picking the water bottle up. “I love him.”
That was… Even if Mingyu did have a crush on Jihoon, and even if that crush was reciprocal, that just… That seemed incredibly fast. Mingyu had only known Jihoon for—when had Mingyu been hired, a whole two weeks ago?—but maybe Seungkwan was right. Maybe the both of them were head over heels, and that they needed was a little push.
Seokmin seemed to think so, turning to Minghao with a grin. Minghao refused to dignify the action with his attention, his eyes still on Mingyu instead.
”You’ve got a little…”
He gestured to the side of his own jaw, Mingyu wiping his face on the inside collar of his apron with a quick thanks.
It really, really looked like chocolate sauce.
Just a day later, disaster struck. Or, that’s what Seokmin was espousing, holding onto Wonwoo’s arm in despair. He swore up and down—and Minghao corroborated his story in the Operation: Domino group chat—Seungkwan had insisted on using a codename for the whole thing—that he’d gotten an honest-to-god confession out of Mingyu just the day before. Mingyu was in love with Jihoon. That was what he’d said. He loved Jihoon. According to Seokmin. But… Jihoon’s boyfriend had just walked into the shop.
At least, that’s what Wonwoo was forced to assume. This guy had opened the door, seen Jihoon standing behind the register, said “Hoon-ah!” in the happiest, affection-filled voice that Wonwoo had ever heard, and hurried in to hug him. Jihoon had not only hugged this guy back, but had also accepted a kiss on the cheek with minimal grumbling.
“But Jihoon and Mingyu are meant to be!” Seokmin cried. Seungkwan and Seungcheol were lost in thought, Seungkwan’s eyes closed, Seungcheol frowning. “This is going to break Mingyu’s heart.”
Mingyu, thankfully, had the day off, and hadn’t seen any of this. Jihoon was in the break room with this mystery man, who had brought lunch for the both of them. They were eating together, chatting easily as they shoveled down what looked to be the cutest, tastiest bento boxes Wonwoo had ever seen.
”What if… What if this guy isn’t Jihoon’s boyfriend?” Seungkwan tried. None of the responding looks he got were on board, and he huffed. “Listen! This plan only works if Jihoon is single, right? So before we just completely give up, we need to find out if they’re dating. They might just be friends.”
“Cheek kiss,” Wonwoo reminded him. Like Minghao, he wasn’t trying to get involved. Jihoon and Mingyu were both competent at their jobs, so Wonwoo liked them well enough. Jihoon liked video games and Mingyu liked photography, so Wonwoo hoped that they were happy in life. But he didn’t get the investment that his fellow coworkers had decided to have in their relationship.
“Maybe they’re brothers!” Seokmin proposed.
”I don’t kiss my brother,” Wonwoo said. Seokmin looked desperately to Seungcheol, who winced.
“Sorry Seokmin-ah, but I don’t kiss mine either. And I think I remember Jihoon saying that he’s an only child. Either way, they don’t look related.”
Then, muffled but still audible through the breakroom door: ”But Hoon-ah, it would be so fun to have a date night!”
Seokmin put his face in his hands.
”We can’t give up!” Seungkwan hissed. He turned to Wonwoo. “You have to go in there.”
“Go… in?” Wonwoo asked.
“Yes!” Seungkwan got himself behind Wonwoo, moving to push him towards the door. “Go in, and find out if—”
Suddenly, the door cracked open. It was Jihoon, his expression slightly apologetic, sweeping over them all before landing on Seungcheol.
”Sorry, I didn’t realize lunch was over,” he said. “I need a few minutes to clean up, but I promise it won’t take long.”
“I can clean up!” came a quick exclamation, this maybe-boyfriend coming up behind Jihoon, placing his hands on Jihoon’s hips as Jihoon glanced over his shoulder at him. “Don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Seungcheol’s expression very much told Wonwoo that he hadn’t noticed that Jihoon was late coming back from lunch—and wouldn’t have cared if he was—but he didn’t argue. Jihoon was giving the guy a smile, though he was also squirming free of his hold.
”Okay. Thanks, Soonyoung-ah.”
He stepped back behind the register, breaking up the crisis-mode gossip session, while this Soonyoung retreated back to the break room. Seungkwan took the bag from the trash can in the front, the thing barely a third full, shoving it into Wonwoo’s hands and looking between him and the break room so pointedly that Wonwoo took the bag and left, just to keep him from pulling a muscle.
Soonyoung was, as he’d said, cleaning the bento boxes up. It was hard to ignore how heart-filled Jihoon’s box was, the few non-heart shaped foods made to look like cats or music notes. Soonyoung’s food, meanwhile, had a confusing but unavoidably pervasive tiger theme.
“Need somewhere for your trash?” he asked, holding the bag open. Soonyoung gave him a grateful smile, tipping a few napkins into it.
“Thank you. You’re…?”
”Jeon Wonwoo,” Wonwoo said. Soonyoung was still smiling, looking over him in a way that put a little skip in Wonwoo’s chest. Soonyoung was a handsome guy, undeniably so, his short hair bleached into an almost white blond, his nails painted a chipping black, his eyes so bright that they were hard to look away from. Soonyoung’s pants were big in that stylishly baggy way, but keeping with the trend had his top small, a form-fitting tank top under an open, black and white knit sort of thing, hiding his arms but showing off a lithe and clearly strong chest and abdomen. Jihoon… Jihoon was a lucky guy.
“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung repeated to himself, tucking the now-closed boxes into a tote bag he’d hung over the back of his chair, then pulling that bag onto his shoulder. “I mean, he probably didn’t even notice, but I can’t believe Hoonie didn’t tell me that he has such a cute coworker.”
The compliment was so unexpected that Wonwoo was blushing and sputtering for nearly a full minute before realizing that Jihoon’s boyfriend should not be talking to him like that.
“I—thank you?”
“You’re welcome.” Soonyoung, clearly, had found his flustered reaction amusing; the smile on his face was a happy one, and while Wonwoo did feel stupid, it also felt more than worth it, to get that kind of smile on Soonyoung’s face. “I—hold on.”
Soonyoung dug around in his tote bag for a moment, pulling out a pen, uncapping it as he walked around the table and taking Wonwoo’s wrist in one hand. All of the actions were gentle, Wonwoo easily able to stop him, but… but Wonwoo didn’t want to, watching as Soonyoung wrote a combination of numbers and letters on the heel of his palm.
“My KakaoTalk ID,” he explained, recapping the pen. While his smile hadn’t faded, his cheeks had gone a bit pink, a bit bashful. “You should message me.”
Then he flitted from the break room, Wonwoo struck dumb as he watched him go. Seungkwan saw him still standing there as the break room door swung open, and it was either the expression on his face or the fact that he hadn’t yet taken out the trash that had him walking into the room, Seungcheol and Seokmin on his heels.
”What?” he asked. “What is it?”
Wonwoo didn’t believe in meddling. He didn’t really care what others did, as long as they were happy. But…
”If they are dating, then we need to break them up,” he said.
Seokmin was, admittedly, at his wit’s end. Operation: Domino had only been around for five days, and had already fallen into disaster, Seokmin lost for ideas on how to salvage it. Mingyu and Jihoon had been scheduled on shifts together, but all that had done was get Mingyu to fall in love with Jihoon. Which might be good, except that Jihoon had a boyfriend. A boyfriend that, apparently, was cheating on him. Was cheating on him so regularly that, when Seokmin felt so eaten by guilt that he just had to tell Jihoon that Soonyoung had called Wonwoo cute and had given him his KakaoTalk ID, Jihoon had simply sighed and said “of course he did”. Jihoon was a good person, and deserved a good boyfriend. He deserved someone nice, and in love with him. Like Mingyu.
When he lamented all of this to Minghao, who had missed Soonyoung’s appearance at the ice cream shop. Minghao just quirked an eyebrow at him.
”You haven’t even tried anything, but you say that you’re all out of ideas?”
That had led to the throwing of a post-work beach party. They were going to watch the sunset, have a bonfire, drink a bit, and play volleyball (that last one wasn’t quite as romantic as everything else, but Seungkwan had declared that he was bringing a ball and a net before anyone had the chance to stop him, so they were going to play volleyball). It would be a good setting, Seokmin thought, to let some sparks fly. Especially if Mingyu did something like take off his shirt.
The first road bump was Jihoon revealing to everyone that he didn’t really drink much, and was going to abstain. While that was fine, sure, Seokmin couldn’t deny that he had been depending on an altered mental state to get Jihoon to possibly break up with—or at least, maybe cheat back on—his cheating boyfriend.
The second obstacle was Seokmin, Mingyu, and Seungcheol’s complete inability to get the fire started. It led to Jihoon inviting Soonyoung down to the beach to help them, and while Soonyoung was able to help—shouting out “Kwon Fire!” as he did—now Soonyoung was there, grabbing onto Jihoon and laughing, insisting on being on Jihoon’s volleyball team. To Seokmin’s disbelief, Mingyu simply watched the interaction and relented, agreeing to be on Seungkwan’s team instead. Minghao was the referee, Seokmin sitting on the sand to sulk with Wonwoo. He rested his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, Wonwoo letting him, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
”Soonyoung wasn’t supposed to be here,” Seokmin said with a sigh. “You’re messaging him, right? Convincing him to break up with Jihoon?”
”No,” Wonwoo said flatly, and Seokmin gave another exaggerated sigh. He hadn’t really meant the question genuinely. “We’re just… I don’t know, just talking. He’s nice.”
“But they need to break up! You’re our secret weapon.”
”I’m not going to do that.”
Seokmin sighed a third time. He knew that. Wonwoo was a good guy. He didn’t miss the way Wonwoo blushed when Soonyoung smiled over at them, though.
Seokmin was unable to sulk for too long. His coworkers were his friends, and it was downright fun to be tipsy on the beach with his friends. He got into a couple rounds of volleyball—beat Seungcheol, something he was going to gloat about for the next few weeks at least—and retired to the fire once the sun started setting, wanting to sit on the sand and watch all the colors streak the sky. Wonwoo, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Soonyoung were all chatting at the water’s edge and Seungkwan and Mingyu were still hitting the ball around, Jihoon coming over to sit next to Seokmin.
“Hey!” Seokmin said, Jihoon sending him a smile. Seokmin couldn’t help but feel that this was his chance to do something, the opportunity that he’d been waiting for, the whole reason to throw this party in the first place. He just had to say the right thing. “So...”
Jihoon tilted his head in question, Seokmin searching for the words.
”Mingyu’s hot, huh?”
Jihoon paused. Blinked. Seokmin, internally floundering, gestured over to Mingyu in an attempt to help his case. And it did help; he’d just happened to pick the perfect moment, Mingyu lifting up the edge of his shirt to wipe at his sweaty face.
“See?”
Jihoon had gotten strangely dodgy, making a noncommittal sort of sound. Trying to keep from getting discouraged, Seokmin went for something that was impossible to deny.
”And just—isn’t he so nice? He’s really nice.”
”Yeah. I guess so.”
Seokmin decided to go for the kill.
”Wouldn’t Mingyu just be the perfect boyfriend?”
Instead of agreeing, like Seokmin wanted—or disagreeing, which Seokmin wouldn’t love, but was a sort of answer—Jihoon looked at Seokmin for a long moment.
”Do you like Mingyu?” he finally asked. Seokmin gaped at him.
”No. No! No, hyung, no, I don’t. Not at all!”
“Good, because he’s taken.”
Seokmin immediately felt stricken. Taken? Mingyu was dating someone? How could that be? Didn’t Mingyu love Jihoon?
Were they going to have to break two couples up?
Before Seokmin could start asking questions, Mingyu jogged over to them.
“Hey, what’s—” he began, but before he could even start, Jihoon took hold of the front of Mingyu’s t-shirt, pulled him close, and kissed him on the mouth.
Mingyu went pink, starting at the tips of his ears and going all the way down his neck, the smile on his face so wide when Jihoon pulled back that he looked downright stupid. Seokmin spluttered out an exclamation, more of a feeling than any kind of comprehensible sound, Jihoon’s fingers staying lightly tangled in Mingyu’s shirt.
”I thought you just said he was taken?!”
Jihoon didn’t even look at Seokmin, meeting Mingyu’s eyes and smiling.
”Yeah. By me.”
“I can’t believe it,” Jihoon said, for what felt like the hundredth time, Mingyu leaning even more heavily against the back of the couch to laugh. It was late, but the revelation of their relationship to their coworkers had caused the post-work party to last longer than anyone had anticipated, sitting around the fire and answering the seemingly endless questions that their coworkers had about them. It had been hilarious.
They’d showered the salt and sand off once they’d returned to their apartment, curled up together on the couch, Jihoon in a classic t-shirt and small shorts combo, while Mingyu had only really bothered to throw on a pair of sweatpants. Jihoon was pressed so close to him on the cushions that just a few less centimeters of distance would mean having his boyfriend in his lap. While Mingyu knew that it was a remnant of Jihoon wanting to show that Mingyu was his despite their current lack of audience, he hoped that those few centimeters would be lost—thoroughly and completely—before the night was over.
”Which part?” Mingyu asked him, trying not to laugh. “The dating Soonyoung part?”
Jihoon made a face.
“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled. “It’s not like—it’s not like we were subtle. How did they think I was dating him, when… They met him when we were eating the lunches that you made us! Did they think he could cook that?”
The indirect compliment—at Soonyoung’s expense, sorry Soonyoung—did make Mingyu’s chest glow.
“I did tell them I loved you like, last week,” he said, Jihoon looking up at him in surprise. “I really don’t know what they were thinking.”
The indirect confession had Jihoon looking down at his hands, picking at some skin on the side of his thumb with his other thumbnail. It wasn’t Mingyu’s first “I love you”, but the words were relatively new between them, and it still seemed to make Jihoon fluster up. How pink it made his ears was an incredible new development.
“I still think that Seokmin might have a crush on you,” Jihoon mumbled. Before Mingyu could start in with any reassurance though, he continued. “That means we’ll need to rub it in. Any idea how big the supply closet in the break room is?”
The laugh that startled itself from Mingyu’s chest had Jihoon looking up at him, a smile on his face, and the next thing he knew Jihoon was drawing him in to kiss him, turning fully towards him, his knees pressing into the seat cushions to box Mingyu’s hips under him.
“Probably not big enough,” Mingyu told him, which was regretful but true. “But hey, I’ll be as affectionate, and as obvious as you want. Just say the word.”
It was still breathtaking, having Jihoon this close. Jihoon was level with him on his knees like this, chest to chest, his dark eyes looking over Mingyu’s face, one of his hands in Mingyu’s hair.
“I love you too, you know,” Jihoon said, his lips curling upwards at the corners. He let himself sit in Mingyu’s lap, his voice going softer as he leaned in again. “And I might need to send you to work with a hickey tomorrow.”
“I’m not on the schedule,” Mingyu said. He regretted the words immediately, because that had Jihoon pausing, a warm exhale leaving his parted lips that sent a full body shiver through Mingyu. “I can ask Seungcheol-hyung to put me on.”
Jihoon laughed so hard at that that it had his head falling back, Mingyu’s hands finding his hips to steady him.
“Don’t,” Jihoon said, his eyes so bright when he steadied himself. “I’ll give you the hickey anyway.”
“Thank god,” Mingyu said, Jihoon’s responding giggle something that he could feel as Jihoon’s lips met his skin again, making the mental note to stop by the ice cream shop tomorrow anyway in a nice, low cut shirt. Just in case.