Chapter Text
The campus library is as quiet as it should be, with the occasional whisper of voices and the clacking of laptop or computer keys. Seungmin appreciates the silence here more than anything; here, it's easier to concentrate on his tasks than at his dorm.
His eyes stay fixed on the assignment he is busy with, his glasses nearly slipping off his nose as he types, and without looking up, he starts, "You know, hyung–" there's a small pause that he uses to keep typing, "if you'd use half the time you do lazing around to finish up your assignment, you would have a decent amount done already."
Across from him, Minho snorts, twirling the pencil in his hand around his fingers for what is probably the thousandth time. "Not a chance," his voice is dry with boredom more than amusement, and Seungmin rolls his eyes fondly. "Plus, I like the adrenaline rush of finishing an assignment hours before the deadline."
"Why do you even bother coming here, then?" Because for all that Seungmin definitely enjoys his company, he knows Minho would rather spend his time on the court than following him into the library like a lost puppy.
The conversation gives him a bit of a break from his work, and he lowers the lid of his laptop to better see Minho's expression as a smile spreads over his face and Seungmin has to fight the smile that tugs at his own lips.
Minho sits up straighter, probably to talk him into leaving his work early so they can frolic in the campus' open fields, or something equally as ridiculous. "Because," he starts, voice too loud for the atmosphere if the shushing that ensues is anything to go by, "I actually like spending time with you, no matter what we're doing."
Or not doing, in Minho's case.
With another fond eye roll, Seungmin gets back to work, and Minho heaves an exasperated groan as he does so, long, drawn-out and dramatic.
Seungmin shakes his head. Idiot.
Just as he'd thought, Minho bugs him into leaving an hour earlier than planned to have a late lunch. To his credit, he'd waited thirty more minutes after their initial conversation ended until he'd gotten antsy and started sighing dramatically to get his point across.
"You're such a pest," he says, not unkindly, watching the way Minho laughs, full bellied and warm, with his head thrown back. Despite the exasperation he feels, he can't deny that having something to eat would really do him some good.
He's finished with more than half the assignment anyway, and it's only due in a week, so he can afford the break. Minho pulls him up and out of his seat by the arm after he's finished packing up, and Seungmin lets himself be dragged.
જ⁀➴
It is a secret to everyone that Seungmin has fonder feelings for Minho than the average human should have for their best friend. A secret because he'd rather pull each individual tooth out one by one than tell anyone about his ridiculous feelings, or worse, confess them. A secret also because Minho is an oblivious mule, who'd rather look for fleeting love in the bed of another than turn Seungmin's way.
And, well, he's fine with it. Absolutely okay.
It's a small consolation that Minho never stays in any of those beds but follows Seungmin like a lost puppy to wherever he goes and says things like I missed you and Wanna try out that new cafe downtown? that give Seungmin just the slightest feeling that not all hope is lost.
Regardless, there's always a painful twist in his chest where his heart should be when Minho stares at someone else with interest, when he tells Seungmin not to wait for him, to go ahead to his dorm. Alone.
That being said, it feels different this time around when Minho bounces over towards him at another overcrowded party he'd been invited to and dragged Seungmin out of his bed for. He'd been milling about in a less crowded spot near the staircase that faced the sliding back doors, trying to avoid conversation by looking busy on the home screen of his phone.
Conversation between him and Minho was easy; Minho understood him more than he probably understood himself, offered him what he needed when he was scratching at his head trying to figure out what he was missing, and gave him space when he needed it. With others, it was a lot harder not to feel awkward and inadequate, no matter what he said or did.
At the end of the conversation, he'd have said two lines consisting of five words maximum each, and the other person would have left for something more interesting.
In any case, he'd had the thought to open up something to read, maybe more research he still had to go through, when he spotted the brown waves of hair and green sports jersey Minho wore in his periphery. He'd looked up, relieved to see his best friend and his crooked grin, when he'd spotted the person trotting obediently behind him.
His relief quickly turned to confusion and then dread. This, like every other time, was the part where Minho would ditch him for his entertainment for the night. Before Minho had even said a word, his heart had given a traitorous squeeze at the thought.
So now, here he is, phone in hand and staring at his friend's dark eyes as Minho smiles, something small and precious, normally reserved for Seungmin alone to witness. Tonight might be the first time that someone else sees it too. "Seung!" Minho caws, voice battling against the deep rumble of the nonsensical rap that flows out of the speakers scattered across the room. He tugs at Seungmin's arm, pulls him closer and towards the figure shying away behind him.
A guy, he realizes, shorter than the both of them by just a few centimetres at most, with jet black hair and round, curious eyes. He's wearing a rather depressed version of the colour yellow that somehow seems to suit his shy demeanour. Minho continues, "This is Jisung!" He turns to the other guy, Jisung, and introduces Seungmin to him, too.
Jisung gives him a hesitant smile, round full cheeks going pink the longer Seungmin stares without saying a word. He looks severely overwhelmed, and in other circumstances, Seungmin would have found him endearing. As it stands, Jisung is currently the bane of his existence. He nods politely for Minho's sake, so Minho won't be suspicious of him, then turns to his best friend with a question mark looming over his head. Seungmin might be imagining it, but Minho's ears are coloured red down to the lobes.
Interesting.
"I'll explain later," Minho mouths silently, and Seungmin's stomach drops as more dread pours into it, thick and heavy and suffocating. He only nods mutely, watching Minho beam before he turns to Jisung, leaning over to whisper like Seungmin doesn't need to hear whatever it is that he needs to say.
Jisung leaves with a shy smile and pink cheeks, and Seungmin can't help but think that that expression will be his undoing. This doesn't feel like all the other times Minho has fallen into a new bed.
This feels so much worse.
જ⁀➴
Later turns out to be never. It's been almost four days since the last time Seungmin has received a text from Minho, and even longer since they'd gone out together to do anything. The silence stings, because it's so unlike Minho to ignore him for so long, no matter if he's busy or if they've had a disagreement. He's usually texting about the most random things, or silly memes he finds online.
With no one actively bothering him to take a walk or eat out, his days have seemed longer than they actually are, and more monotonous than he'd like to admit. He wakes up early for classes, checks his phone to find no notifications from the one person he actually wants to hear from, and then drags himself throughout his day.
It stings a little worse when he searches campus and finds his best friend with Jisung, the new kid he'd picked up from seemingly nowhere and is now completely enamoured with.
When day five rolls around with no text or call, he slips on a jacket, slides into worn shoes and trudges his way to Minho's dorm. The evenings are still warm with the leftover heat from summer, clouds rolling over the sky in pinks and oranges that would've made him feel at ease at any other time. The songs of birds and the distant sounds of cars zooming by make for good background sounds for his otherwise drab thoughts.
Along the back of his mind, he recognizes that there is absolutely nothing wrong with Minho gaining a new friend, especially because he knows his best friend is more social than he could ever dream to be. Accompanying that, though, is the bitter voice that screeches to be heard. It screams something about being first, that Minho's abandoning him for someone new.
He knows that this line of thinking is wrong but knowing and believing are two separate concepts.
He sighs into the warmth, feels the hairs at the back of his neck curl the longer he walks in the humid air. Before he reaches Minho's place, he makes a detour, buying their favorite snacks in hopes that they'll gloss over this small period of separation and enjoy their time together in the safety of the dorm's four walls and their friendship.
At the door, he knocks in respect to Minho's dormmate, Hyunjin, then steps inside, the plastic bag rustling in his hand as he shuffles forward. It's cool inside, and in Seungmin's immediate sight, there's a fan creaking about as it whirs away, twisting from side to side. A fan that Seungmin has never seen before.
When he turns the corner, he tries to convince himself that there's nothing wrong. Minho is allowed to have friends over, he's allowed to laugh at whatever they're watching, he's allowed to offer them snacks and joke with them. Even though that was what they did all the time – even though that was a Minho-and-Seungmin thing only.
Did Minho have to do their thing with Jisung, too, though?
They don't notice him at first, too busy with each other and their show, his favorite, he realizes with a pang in his chest. A few new episodes had come out, and Seungmin had waited until Minho would be available to watch it together, but now he'd have to catch up. Alone.
When he drops the bag on the coffee table, ice cream tubs thudding against the surface, Minho and Jisung look up, startled. Minho is the first to show any outwardly reaction that isn't surprise, launching himself at Seungmin with a grin that nearly blinds him and almost melts away the ice that frosts his lungs. From Minho's shoulder, Seungmin spots Jisung frowning at his lap and looks away. Something at the back of his mind feels smug, but the feeling doesn't last long.
"Seungmo!" Minho crows in his ear, squeezing his ribs until he wheezes a laugh. When he pulls back, there's a small smile on his face, his eyes soft. "Missed me? I'm glad you're here! We're watching your show," he shimmies back into his seat next to Jisung, rummaging through the plastic bag filled with snacks they were meant to share. "Can you get us spoons, and we'll watch it together?"
All he can do is obey, coming back with three spoons that he passes out. Minho hands him a tub of ice-cream, then turns to Jisung. "You don't mind sharing, right?" And Seungmin watches Jisung turn pink in the face, shaking his head with a soft no that rings loudly in his ears.
He turns back to the laptop screen from where he sits on the floor, but the entire time he stares, eating his ice-cream and listening to the soft remarks Jisung makes from the couch, or the way Minho laughs with him, he never understands what happens on the show.
જ⁀➴
Minho sends his first text in almost a week later that night, after Seungmin has showered and has, frankly, had enough of the day.
hannie's cool, right? :-D
Hannie. Seungmin doesn't reply, clicking his phone off and slipping into bed with a defeated sigh, chest aching.
The silence and darkness of his room almost feel like his mind, except thoughts buzz around, unrelenting. What was once a time for him to fall asleep to thoughts of Minho's pretty smile or the newest ways he's made Seungmin's stomach flip has now turned into hours filled with raging thoughts that torture him into extended wakefulness.
He agonizes over every second spent wallowing in his own misery and trying to drown himself in sticky sweetness while Minho and Jisung whisper between themselves over his head like he wasn't there. He tugs his blanket over his head, hugging himself tighter in hopes of tricking his mind into thinking someone's there to comfort him – but all it does is make him aware of how desperate he is.
Defeated, he picks his phone up again, clicking into his and Minho's chat like a lovesick fool. Between the memes and texts to "sleep, you insomniac" from himself and "don't forget to eat, Minnie<3" from Minho, his chest aches something fierce, but he ignores it. Minho's been good to him all this time, has been his main system of support all along. The least he can do is like his new friend.
Yeah, Jisung's fun!
He deletes it almost immediately. It feels too real – too accepting – to openly admit something he knows he isn't sincere about. He types, deletes, retypes before giving up on answering that text at all. Instead, he types:
Is there a chance we can meet up alone?
He hesitates, adds a silly emoji, then backspaces in shame. That feels like too much, too, like he's making Minho choose between Jisung or him. Instead, he lets the screen blink into darkness, placing it face-down on his bedside table.
It really shouldn't matter who Minho spends his time with. They're best friends, above all else, so he need not worry. And yet–
And yet.
But he's fine, he's okay. Minho can have other friends; he's had plenty before and he's never forgotten Seungmin. They've still been best friends, so it shouldn't hurt. Eventually, Minho will ask him to hang out and he'll agree, and they'll be fine. So, he's fine.
He's not.