Minho glared at Taemin quietly, wondering just how he was going to make this work. The mistletoe was in the middle of the room, and he’d been trying for at least half the night to get the younger guy under it. However, since this was a college party with other college kids and college-grade alcohol, there was a ing line to go under the mistletoe, and besides, Taemin hadn’t stopped talking to the same two people since the party started.

Ugh, he was so ing handsome. Who gave him the right? Who gave him the goddamn right? There he was, in an oversized black sweater and skinny jeans, that smile on his face that could light up a whole room. God, Minho was so over the moon for him, even though he seemed a thousand miles away. The older man sighed wistfully, rubbing his arm and trying to formulate some sort of a plan in his head.

“Hey, move it,” Sunny complained above the loud music as she pushed Minho playfully to get to the spiked bowl of punch. She ladled a generous amount into her cup and knocked it against Minho’s before taking a gulp, following his eyes to see just where he was staring. “Still haven’t gotten the guts to talk to him, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s just been standing there. Talking to his friends. You know. Like a person,” Minho complained, scowling all the more at the thought. Who socializes at a party, other than every other person in the world? Minho drank the remainder of the punch in his cup and turned back for more, but Sunny grabbed his wrist before he could get any.

“Nope. No more for you until you actually go over and talk to him,” she ordered, giving him a look that told him that she meant business. Minho scoffed, but the way she glared at him caused him to drop the ladle. He felt her hands on his shoulders turning him around and marching him a few steps away from the snack table.

“Alright, alright. I’m going,” Minho complained, groaning as he marched towards the opposite side of the room where Taemin was standing. He made sure to avoid the mistletoe line, not wanting to get caught up in whatever mess was going on there. He kept his eyes fixed on Taemin, already mentally practicing poses that could be construed as attractive, trying not to think too much. Ha, as if he could stop that from happening.

“Minho!” the younger man said brightly before Minho had a chance to greet him. It caught the older man so off-guard that all the mental practice he’d gotten a few seconds ago flew straight out the window as he stammered a bit before finding his verbal footing again.

“H-hey, Taemin! What’s up?” he said with a grin, standing closer to the younger guy than was necessary. He looked from one stranger’s face to the other’s before looking at Taemin’s for an introduction, just the sight of the other’s cheerful expression making his heart thump.

“Oh, , yeah,” Taemin said, wiping his hand free from chip crumbs and pretzel salt before pointing to his friends. “This is Jonghyun, we’re in the gaming club together. This is Kibum, we have English together. Guys, this is Minho”—the taller boy waved awkwardly— “He’s been helping me out with my math homework lately.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Jonghyun said with a plastic smile before he raised his cup to his mouth and took a sip. He bobbed to the music awkwardly, looking to Kibum to say something as well. The well-dressed boy cleared his throat, rattling a cup full of pretzels.

“So, what do you do around campus?” Kibum asked, tilting his head curiously and looking Minho up and down, as if sizing him up. The taller boy cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together, feeling awkwardly about this situation and desperately wishing for a way out.

Maybe if I leave right now, I’ll never have to socialize at a party again, he thought desperately as he rubbed cleared his throat again, ever second that ticked by just reminding him that socializing was the worst thing in the world.

“I do math tutoring, and I’m a graphic design major with a math minor,” he said shakily, looking back at Kibum and then at Jonghyun and back at Kibum and oh God, who should he look at? Which one was more, or less, likely to judge him? He remembered the look that his advisor had given him when he’d announced his majors, but here he was now, probably unemployable, and he had so much student loan debt—

“Oh, that’s not all! Minho works in the library too,” Taemin interjected, smiling up at the man brightly and tilting his head. Minho’s heart jumped straight into his throat, and he could only nod mutely as he felt Jonghyun and Kibum watch him with a raised eyebrow each.

“Oh, cool. What do you—”

“Taemin, do you want some punch?” Minho asked suddenly, all too loud and all too nervously, but he wanted to get Taemin to the mistletoe somehow. All three pairs of eyes blinked rapidly at him, and a quick mental replay of the moment told him that he’d been irresponsibly loud. , he’d ed up, hadn’t he? But then Taemin laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, bringing a feeling of relief to Minho’s tense chest.

“Um… sure, I’d like some punch,” he said, holding his cup out to Minho. The older boy took it awkwardly, realizing that he should have specified that he wanted Taemin to come get the punch with him, but it was too late now. His world seemed to collapse just a little bit as he turned and skirted around the mistletoe line again to get to the snack table.

“So, did it go well?” Sunny asked as she watched Minho ladling punch into Taemin’s cup. The man sighed and looked at her with tragic eyes that just told her everything, which only made Sunny laugh. She hit his arm gently, feeding him a cookie that he ate without hands.

“He thinks that I’m weird,” Minho insisted around the cookie as he chomped it down. He finished ladling the punch into Taemin’s cup and started to make another one for himself as he polished off the last few bites. Sunny smiled and rubbed his arm where she’d hit it earlier.

“Of course he thinks you’re weird, because you are weird,” she said brightly, making Minho pout before she continued. “But you have to make him see that your weirdness is adorable, okay? You can do it. You succeeded with Taehyung, didn’t you?” she asked, tilting her head. Minho groaned loudly at the mention of his ex.

“Yeah, but that was in freshman year, Sunny! I’m a senior now, it’s all different. Everyone has friends already. Everyone knows that I’m a big, tall, gay weirdo, and I’m never going to get Taemin to kiss me,” he muttered bitterly, grabbing a pretzel and chomping that down too. A few crumbs fell into one of the cups, but he’d give the clean one to Taemin, he decided.

“Whatever, Minho. I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself,” Sunny sighed dramatically as the man stuck his tongue out at her. With her “advice” ringing in his ears, he made his way back over to Taemin, looking down at the cups from time to time as he walked and tried to keep his head on his shoulders.

The clean one. The clean one. Give him the clean one. Don’t this up, Minho. Give Taemin the clean one, he repeated over and over in his head. He made sure he remembered. He’d forget his own name before he forgot that he had to give Taemin the clean cup.

He remembered so well, in fact, that he practically shoved the cup into the younger’s hands the second he got back to his side. He watched in abject horror as the cup spilled over, and the bright red liquid splashed all over Taemin’s sweater and leaving splotches all over his jeans. Oh, . Oh, good . Oh, sweet Jesus .

“I am so s-sorry,” Minho managed to stammer out, still holding out the cup of punch. Taemin just laughed a bit and took the drink, sipping from it and shrugging as Kibum and Jonghyun kept watching with their jaws nearly touching the ground.

“You don’t have to feel bad or anything. I’m so lucky to have a friend so committed to keeping me hydrated,” Taemin said with a wink. The wink and the word “friend” were both like a punch in the stomach, but in wildly different ways, and Minho didn’t exactly know how to react other than to take another drink of his own punch and fix his eyes on the growing wet spot on Taemin’s sweater.

Wait. An opportunity.

“You should probably get some napkins. I’ll go with you,” he said eagerly, looking from Taemin to the snack table and back again. Taemin smiled and nodded, looking down at himself and wiping a few drops away with his hands and clearing his throat as he flicked it from his fingers.

“I’ll go, you get to know Jonghyun and Kibum,” he suggested, leaving before Minho could protest. Minho swallowed hard and looked at the two guys, who each scanned Minho up and down critically now. The sight of their faces made Minho want to either cry or scream. Maybe even both, he decided, if it would get him out of a social situation.

“So, what do you do at the library?” Kibum asked first, twirling a pretzel between his fingers delicately before popping it into his mouth. He held the cup of pretzels out to Jonghyun. He neglected to hold it out to Minho, something that the man took note of, which wasn’t helping his nervousness.

“I’m one of those people who sits at the front desk and checks records all day,” he said softly, his voice trying to drop beneath the volume of the music. His job was lame. His life was lame. His existence was lame.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Jonghyun said politely, with the air of not finding it cool at all. At least he wasn’t being rude, which Minho took with gratitude. Another measure or two of music passed them by before anyone said anything else, and it was the longest measure of music that Minho had ever heard.

“So, do you get paid to be a tutor too?” Kibum asked just as Taemin got back. Minho almost jumped up at the sound of the younger man’s voice next to him.

“Oh, he doesn’t work with the tutoring center. He just saw me suffering over my math homework at the library last semester and rescued me from it, like a hero,” Taemin cooed. He patted Minho’s arm comfortably, which made the older man feel like he could faint right on the spot.

“I’m no hero,” he said loudly, at a volume which made Jonghyun cough in response. Kibum instead smiled sympathetically at the man, tilting his head and holding the cup of pretzels out to Minho now. The taller man gratefully shoved one into his mouth and chased it down with some more punch.

“Where’d you get so good at math, anyway?” Taemin demanded playfully, tilting his head and grinning up at him with a set of immaculate teeth. Taemin’s lips were stretched out in that bright smile, but they still looked perfectly plush and kissable and damn would Minho like to kiss him right now, but instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Oh, I’ve just always liked math,” he said with a hum. Taemin smiled and nodded as he listened, encouraging Minho to continue talking, so the older boy did. Even if this was a ty idea. Even if he ended up saying something stupid. He really wanted to see that smile some more. “Math just makes sense, you know? When I was in middle school, I won this math competition, so they sent me to this camp and I learned all these algorithms and postulates and—”

“Wow, I’m out of pretzels,” Kibum said suddenly, looking at the bottom of his cup, but Minho knew that it was because no one actually wants to hear about math camp. Who the talks about math camp in front of their crush? What the actual hell was he doing?

And yet, another golden opportunity.

“Taemin, let’s go get Kibum some more pretzels,” he said brightly, humming as he held out his hand for the pretzel cup. Taemin laughed and pushed Minho’s arm a bit, causing the older boy to panic before he looked at that bright smile and felt a bit better.

“You’re too nice, Minho. Don’t offer to help him so much, or Kibum will have you running back and forth from the snack table like a dog or something,” Taemin protested, shooting his friend a playful glare. “Why don’t you go walk off those pretzels?”

“Damn, kid, you sure know how to cut deep,” Kibum joked back, sticking his tongue out at the younger man before he walked off with a hum to get more snacks. Taemin looked back at Jonghyun, taking another drink of his punch.

“So, Jonghyun, why don’t you start talking? You’re usually always running your mouth,” Taemin teased. Minho’s eyes widened, and he didn’t ‘exactly know how to respond before the younger man looked over and laughed at his companion’s dumbfound expression. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Jonghyun sometimes guest DJs at the school radio. Not that anyone listens—”

“Tae!” Jonghyun said loudly, and when Minho looked over, the man’s entire face seemed to be enlarged. His eyes were taking up half his face, his nostrils were ridiculously flared, and his mouth was the size of a fist. Taemin lost it at the expression, laughing so hard that he was nearly doubled over and clapped his hand against his cup.

“How many people listened to the last broadcast?” he demanded, giving the most -eating grin. Jonghyun’s face fell like a kicked puppy.

“Okay, but at least we hit double digits this time,” he muttered bitterly. Minho gave him the most sympathetic smile, rubbing his arm and twirling circles in his sleeve as he watched Jonghyun pout pitifully.

“It’s okay, no on ever shows up to the library either, except during finals week. Once we had this kid who was literally living in the library during finals week, and he started showering in the bathroom sink. I walked in on him and I made him go back to his dorm to shower, but he was really angry about it, especially since he was in the middle of washing his ,” Minho babbled on, only stopping when Jonghyun started laughing hysterically.

“Holy , Minho. Next time, use that story as your opening line, that was ing hilarious,” Jonghyun said, wiping a tear from his eye. Minho grinned, taking it to mean that he’d said something funny, which was definitely a plus when interacting. He looked to his side to see that Taemin was laughing too, which made his heart skip a beat.

“What’s up? Who said something funny?” Kibum asked as he returned, going back to his place at Jonghyun’s side with a pretzel in his mouth. He held out the cup to everyone present, including Minho, who smiled brightly as he took a few and munched on them as a reward to himself.

“Minho did. Minho, tell him what you just told us,” Jonghyun insisted, tapping the taller man’s arm a few times. Minho repeated the story, grinning at Kibum’s obnoxiously out of control laugh. He found the sound charming, even funny. Funny enough that he started laughing too, something that he usually tried to avoid at all costs.

He hated his laugh. It was the worst laugh in the history of mankind. It sounded like if a squeaky toy got ed by a yipping dog. He tried hard to stop himself, but the ridiculous noise just made Kibum laugh, and Jonghyun, and especially Taemin, who was staggering around with the force of his amusement and clapping harder against his cup.

“Oh my God, why don’t you laugh more often? That laugh is amazing!” the younger man exclaimed, gripping Minho’s sleeve for stability as everyone finally managed to calm down a bit. Jonghyun was gasping for breath as Kibum stuffed his mouth with more pretzels to help himself stop laughing too.

“I hate my laugh,” Minho responded, whining just a bit. Taemin grinned up at him, all perfect teeth and soft lips again.

“Is that why you’ve never laughed around me? You should, though! It’s such a great sound, even if it does sound like a bunch of rubber ducks getting river-danced on,” he teased, but Minho loved that teasing. It meant that the younger man had been paying attention, the thought of which made Minho’s stomach somersault in his chest.

“You are such a , Tae,” Jonghyun teased, punching the younger’s arm lightly. Taemin acted as if he’d been killed, falling to the ground dramatically and holding his arm with a groan. Minho laughed harder at the sight, holding Taemin’s other arm to keep him at least on his feet. Kibum was dying over the melodrama that was playing out in front of him.

“Taemin, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink. Get some air,” he urged, pushing Taemin’s arm with his pretzel cup. Taemin just grinned, handing the older man his drink before looking up at Minho.

“Come with me,” he invited, looking down at Minho’s hand which was still around his elbow. “You’re still holding onto me anyway.”

Minho felt like he’d choke from the embarrassment, but also the joy that Taemin was finally choosing him, even if the door was nowhere near the mistletoe. He’d all but forgotten about that anyway, having gotten swept up in the conversation and the fun and just being able to be near people again. He’d forgotten how good that’d felt.

“I’ll see you around campus, we’re definitely getting lunch or dinner or gaming or something,” Jonghyun called out after Minho, making the taller man’s smile grow even wider. Taemin was grinning too, walking with his companion out the back door and into the chilly winter air. The two young men let the door of the campus center close behind them, and they both tilted their heads up to take in the refreshing night air. It was quiet for a moment, but Minho wasn’t bothered by that anymore.

“… I’m really glad you came,” Taemin said softly. Minho smiled and turned his head to look at the younger man, who didn’t seem so far away anymore. He nodded slowly as Taemin kept talking, playing with his fingers now that he wasn’t holding a cup anymore. It was one of those habits, just one of those things that Minho loved about the younger man. “When I told you about this party, I really didn’t know if you’d show up. I—”

“I don’t normally like parties,” Minho confirmed, rubbing his neck awkwardly. Taemin laughed a bit and nodded, his eyes fixed on Minho’s face in a way that was making the older man’s heart skip a few beats a second.

“I can tell,” Taemin whispered, stepping closer. Before Minho could react, their lips were pressed together, and Taemin’s arms were around his neck, and Minho felt like he was getting drunk on just this kiss. He started responding as soon as he’d gathered the shattered pieces of his brain together long enough to move his arms around Taemin’s waist.

This was the most beautiful kiss Minho had ever had. This blew every other kiss he’d had out of the water, not that there were many to begin with, and he couldn’t help but become more enthusiastic when Taemin didn’t pull away. One of Taemin’s hands found its way into his hair, and the younger’s lips were exactly how Minho had imagined. Maybe a little laced from the spiked punch, and maybe a little salty from the pretzels, but they were just like the rest of Taemin.

Perfect.

Finally, Taemin pulled away and grinned up at Minho, who couldn’t help but steal another kiss and press a laugh from Taemin’s pretty little mouth. The younger man looked up into Minho’s eyes, his hands sliding down his shoulders to relax against his chest, his fingers playing in the fabric of the older man’s shirt.

“Since you’ve been trying to get me under the mistletoe all night, I figured this is what you were after.”

~

A/N—Sometimes I’m in the mood to write fluff.