Jinwoo supposes, on the bright side of things, that at least three-piece suits are better to walk than some of the ridiculously gaudy pieces some designers like to put them in.

He still hates them though. Stuffy, and always too fitting about the shoulders. There is, though, always a silver lining to things. Sometimes life’s silver linings are harder to find, but for three-piece suits the answer is far too easy, and comes at that moment in the form of a knock tapping at the door of his dressing room.

The doors push open, and Jinwoo smells Mino before he even turns around to watch him come in with an armful of clothes.

He's close enough now, for Jinwoo to pick up on his distinct scent of coffee and musky cologne. It's an incredibly intoxicating combination, and he resists the ever-present urge to lean forward and sniff.

“Yo, Mino nods, somehow managing to still hold the clothes in his arms upright without creasing them, and Jinwoo waits for the doors to fall shut.

“Hey,” Jinwoo says absently, eyes tracing down the lines of Mino’s shoulders and tattoos, exposed by the gaping neckline of his oversized chunky sweater. “I like your sweater.”

“You do?” Mino perks. “It’s one of my newer pieces.”

“I'd like to walk your pieces, someday.”

“It’s not much though, just one of the pieces I cobbled together for fun.” Mino turns to hang the clothes on his arm onto the rack. “Most of my official work is on collaborative pieces anyway, for other people’s lines.”

“I’d rather be dressed in your work than in these.” Jinwoo frowns down at today’s suit, doesn’t even bother rummaging for the label - it’s probably ridiculously expensive, and he walks better in these suits when he isn’t thinking about how much they cost.

“I’m not very practical, with the pieces I design,” Mino laughs, picking out the trouser pants and a dress shirt. “Not really items like these.”

Jinwoo gets changed almost on autopilot, focusing instead on the way Mino sorts through his pins and breaks thread with a quick snap of his wrists.

“Do you want me to, though?” Mino suddenly breaks the silence.

“Want you to...?”

“Dress you in my work,” Mino says, looking up at him. “I can fit you for one of my mockup pieces. I think you’d look good in them.”

“It’d be a pleasure,” Jinwoo says, is surprised he sounds so calm. Mino grins, cheshire smile wide and bright, at him.

“I’ll text you the address.”

The place is easier to find than he’d thought - the entrance of the cafe is half-nestled into a stone wall, and through a small glass window he glimpses a warm, cosily-lit interior.

Pushing the worn wooden door open with a merry jingle of bells, he steps in and is briefly halted in his steps by how the place actually smells like Mino. Only a few customers are nestled here and there, most with laptops and books and papers, at ridiculously comfortable-looking variations of mismatched patchwork sofas and coffee tables.

It’s like stepping into a world cushioned from the noise and bustle of the larger streets outside, as the door gently thuds to a shut behind him. A quiet weekday afternoon bubble.

“Good afternoon!” a chirpy barista looks up from where he’s wiping glasses at the bar counter, and freezes, recognition creeping into his eyes. 

“Hi,” Jinwoo says tentatively. “I’m looking for Mino-” before either of them can say anything else, Mino’s voice drifts down from upstairs, from a small flight of rickety wooden steps in the corner of the cafe that Jinwoo hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Seungyoon-ah, could you come up for a bit?” The barista - Seungyoon - sidles carefully over to the foot of the staircase, water glass and drying cloth still in hand.

“Mino-yah, I think you need to come down for a bit,” he hisses up the stairs.

“ you,” Mino yells back, and Jinwoo presses his mouth into a line to try not and laugh. “You know I’ve got pins everywhere, I need you to come and hold up this layer for me for a couple moments. Can’t move.”

“Go ahead up and help him first,” Jinwoo says to a wide-eyed Seungyoon, waving towards the stairs. “I’m not in a rush or anything.” Seungyoon half-stumbles up the stairs in his haste, but it’s only a couple of moments before Mino comes clambering down.

“Hey,” Mino says, and there’s still pins in the pincushion Mino has somehow pinned to his sleeve at his bicep, and his hair is in a tousled mess and and he’s in the most oversized sweater that Jinwoo has seen on him thus far, and Jinwoo thinks he looks beautiful. “I’m sorry - I wasn’t expecting-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Jinwoo shakes his head. “I just - needed a break. To get away from things for a bit. I know I'm an hour early - I hope I’m not intruding?”

“Of course not. Do you want to come up? It’ll be a bit more quiet upstairs.” Mino glances around, and Jinwoo knows the few customers in his cafe have started to look up. He nods, and follows Mino up the small and creaky flight of stairs, into a surprisingly large studio, brightly lit by the sunlight pouring in from skylights in the wood ceiling.

It’s a bit of a mess, with bits of cloth and pins and buttons haphazardly strewn over all the surfaces, and mannequins standing around, but it’s comfortable, and homey, he thinks, as he watches Mino shove a roll of denim off a worn couch in the corner.

“Take a seat,” Mino tugs at his elbow, and Jinwoo follows dutifully, letting Mino manhandle him onto the couch. Mino follows, flopping against Jinwoo’s side.

“I didn’t know you owned a cafe,” Jinwoo says.

“I guess it never came up as a topic of conversation,” Mino laughs, stretching out and his thighs chafe against Jinwoo’s, and Jinwoo presses himself up against his shoulder.

“Is that why you always smell of coffee?”

“I didn’t know I do, but yeah, probably,” Mino’s shoulders are shaking with laughter under Jinwoo’s touch, and he feels so… alive against him. “You never mentioned that either.”

And suddenly Jinwoo thinks he can place the odd tug in his heart that he feels every time he's around Mino, that he’s been unable to name. It’s almost as if a haze has cleared from his mind, and suddenly everything sparks into sharp clarity… the rumours they think he doesn’t hear, Seunghoon’s warning… that maybe he just wants Mino, and that he was the last one to realise.

“-not just coffee, there’s other things like tea and chocolate-”

“Sorry?” Jinwoo looks up at Mino. He feels somewhat like the world should have tilted on its axis, that the ground should have shifted under his feet - but somehow it feels the same. Mino feels the same, warm against his side, and maybe that’s all that matters.

“I was asking if you wanted a drink,” Mino says. “Are you okay? You really do look a little tired.”

Jinwoo shakes his head. ”A little, but I'm fine. Can you do latte art?”

“I make the best latte art tulips,” Mino grins, pushing himself off the couch, and Jinwoo already misses his warmth against him. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

When Mino has disappeared downstairs, Jinwoo looks around, at all the photographs and paintings Mino has up on his walls. Some are presumably his own artwork, with his name in the corner, and some are prints of his runway pieces… and some are photographs, some of him with what looks like his family, his sister and parents, and some of him with Seungyoon.

He has the most gorgeous smile, Jinwoo thinks, peering in close at one of the photographs, where Seungyoon has his arm wrapped about a laughing Mino. He has the prettiest crinkles around the corner of his eyes, and his eyes turn into little crescents.

“I look terrible in that one, my eyes are so small,” Mino’s voice murmurs in his ear, breath warm against his skin, standing closer than expected. “But Seungyoon liked it, and insisted on having it printed.”

Jinwoo draws back a little, his back colliding against Mino’s chest, but Mino doesn’t move.

“You’re really close with him,” Jinwoo murmurs, wondering why Mino isn’t backing off.

"Yeah, we kinda grew up together." Mino pushes his shoulder playfully into Jinwoo's, and gives him a mug. "Here."

"You make really good coffee," Jinwoo says after he's taken a careful sip around the perfect tulip. 

"One of my many talents," Mino laughs, wrapping a hand around Jinwoo's wrist and pulling him towards the racks. 

-pre- 

Seunghoon had asked him about it, one evening at their usual bar after a particularly grueling rehearsal.

“Is there something you're not telling me?”

“What have you been hearing?” Jinwoo reached for the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table between them.

“You know what I’ve been hearing,” Seunghoon swirled the alcohol in his own glass. “You’ve just been waiting for me to ask you about it.”

Jinwoo grimaced. “Shut up.”

“Song Mino?”

“I don’t know what they’re saying, but he’s just a very good friend.”

“I’ve seen him at the runways before, heard the girls whispering about him,” Seunghoon took a sip, eyeing Jinwoo contemplatively. “Has an infamous penchant for severely oversized pieces.” He shrugs. “You have an eye for the hot ones, don’t you.”

“Says the runway model himself,” Jinwoo laughed, emptying his glass. The look in Seunghoon’s eyes was still there, though, and Jinwoo knew he wasn't going to get off so easily. “What now?” he says.

“You like him?”

“Of course, he’s a nice guy.”

Seunghoon contemplated him for a little more, and Jinwoo tries not to squirm. “Be careful,” was all Seunghoon said after awhile, draining his own glass.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jinwoo murmured, even if he was completely sure what Seunghoon had meant.

“You do,” Seunghoon sighed. “You know how it is, dating within the industry. Things never end well.”

“We’re not dating,” Jinwoo said. “Is that what’s been going around?”

“There’s even a betting pool on it,” Seunghoon laughed, and Jinwoo emptied his glass, thought maybe he was done for the night.

-post-

Now that Seunghoon has mentioned it, Jinwoo realises that Mino does have this penchant for oversized sweaters. Big, slouchy pieces, with sleeves that fall way past his hands and loose necklines that part to reveal his bare shoulders and the inked tattoos on both sides. It's a testament to how broad his shoulders are that the sweater usually doesn't actually slip over his entire shoulder, but hangs on.

Jinwoo always wonders how Mino manages that. He doesn't really go for oversized, himself, even in casual clothing, because for him the neckline always just s it all and slips and slides and he has to keep tugging it up. But Mino’s neckline always stays in place.

He'd never tell, but he has a thing for Mino’s shoulders. Sometimes when he’s standing up on the platform, waiting as Mino pins his fittings into place, he’ll reach out and trace the exposed tattoos on his skin with his fingertips. Sometimes he'll hook a finger into the neckline and tug it down over Mino’s shoulder.

Sometimes Mino will laugh and shrug his sweater back up into place. Other times he just looks Jinwoo briefly in the eye, inscrutable when he chooses to be, but the moment will pass and he will pout and wiggle his bare shoulder playfully at Jinwoo.

Jinwoo is so often surrounded by men, so many of them beautiful, but Mino - has this strange magnetic pull, effortlessly y, and - I want him, Jinwoo thinks. Mino’s hands always flutter over his body, close enough that Jinwoo can feel the anticipatory warmth of his touch hovering, but he has never touched Jinwoo, skin on skin. Through fabrics, perhaps, but suddenly Jinwoo has never wanted the heat of someone else’s skin on his own so much before. 

It’s been an especially bad day at work, and when Jinwoo boards his cab he means to tell the driver his home address, he really does, but instead he ends up telling the driver the address for Mino’s cafe.

It’s closed, predictably, given that it’s past 11 at night, but Jinwoo glimpses a small light on, and movement behind the bar, and pushes at the door anyway. It opens, and Mino looks up from behind the bar.

“Hey,” he says, breaking into a grin, and Jinwoo thinks about the distances he would have travelled just for that smile.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I know it’s late, but I thought I’d just… try my luck-”

“Nah, I’m a nocturnal,” Mino laughs. “I’m here late in the studio most nights. Come on in, it’s cold outside.”

Jinwoo slips in, letting the door thud to a shut behind him, and Mino comes up to him, pulling him behind the counter.

“I was practising my latte art,” he tells Jinwoo. Cups of latte bears, roses, ferns scatter the counter. “Do you want to try?”

“I don’t mind,” Jinwoo says, and over the next hour they end up with about 20 more cups covering the counter.

“Here,” Mino says, giving Jinwoo a fresh mug. “One of my better roses.”

“That I’m about to ruin,” Jinwoo laughs, taking a sip. When he lowers the mug, there’s a red stain on the rim.

“You’ve got lipstick on,” Mino says, and his eyes are so dark.

“I haven’t taken my work makeup off,” Jinwoo wipes at his mouth with his fingers. “I came straight from a rehearsal.”

“You’ve smudged it,” Mino laughs, peering now at his mouth.

“Where?” Jinwoo asks, and maybe he just wanted the tingle of Mino’s skin on his own, but he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to admit that to himself yet. With previous lovers, he always knew with an ironclad certainty that they wanted him too, and the confidence with which he approached them was always met with equal fervour.

With Mino… he finds himself more careful. Almost as if Mino were more fragile.

Mino’s touch is as electric as ever, his fingers steady, but his breath hitching the slightest - and Jinwoo closes his lips around Mino’s finger.

Mino’s eyes flick up to his, dark and surprised, but there’s no rejection swirling in them. Jinwoo glimpses anticipation, nervousness instead in their depths, and emboldened, he cups Mino’s cheek with one hand, and as Mino slowly pulls his finger away he lets his mouth follow the digit - and he kisses Mino.

Mino is soft, his mouth warm and incredibly pliant under his, and so, so responsive as he kisses back and Jinwoo cradles his face with both hands, losing himself in the heat of the kiss. He feels Mino’s hands come up to tentatively grasp his hips to pull him closer.

They part briefly for air, Mino’s eyes opening slowly to meet his, glazed and pupils dilated. “Hyung,” he breathes, and it’s the first time Mino has ever called him that, despite Jinwoo’s admonitions all this time, and Jinwoo just wants him so much, stepping forward and pressing him into the bar counter. Mino moans into his mouth as his back hits the bar, his breathing erratic, eyes shut tight, and Jinwoo has never wanted someone so much before.

“I just- I just want-” he gives up on words then, at the sensation of Mino’s hard body surging up against his, and tilts his head to into his mouth. Mino tastes faintly of lingering bitterness of coffee, but that just turns Jinwoo on, and he pushes deeper, sliding a hand down Mino's neck and shoulders-

There’s a sudden click, and suddenly the cash drawer of the register snaps out, smacking painfully into both their hips and jerking them out of the kiss.

“Must’ve accidentally jabbed the release button,” Mino winces, shoving the drawer back in. “Sorry.”

Jinwoo blinks, tries to gather his wits together, but Mino’s hair is a tousled mess and his mouth kiss-swollen and smudged red - Jinwoo remembers belatedly the lipstick he'd been wearing, and brings a thumb up to trace around the edges of his own lips. It comes away red.

“Your makeup is ruined,” Mino murmurs, turning away and reaching for tissues, but Jinwoo reaches out and grasps his wrist.

“Mino,” he says. “I meant it. I don’t - I don’t take this lightly. I don’t take you lightly.”

Mino’s eyes are bright, when he turns back to look at him, his mouth smudged a really pretty red, and Jinwoo just wants to kiss him again.

“Do you like me,” Jinwoo asks, feeling like this is an incredibly stupid question, but he can’t help it. “For me.”

“I do, I like you too,” Mino says easily, unexpectedly, and Jinwoo feels it then, what he’d been waiting to feel all along - his world thudding to a halt under his feet, as if the now and present was where he was meant to be, after all this time.

“Then it’s okay,” he says, leaning in, pressing another kiss on Mino’s mouth. “Then it’s all okay.”

Even after they begin this - even after they’re together - Jinwoo still has trouble wrapping his mind around that - nothing has changed, nothing is different. It really is, except now Mino spends more nights than none in his room. They don't always - sometimes they're so tired that they're asleep before their heads hit the pillow - but the nights they do, Mino always falls asleep first, and Jinwoo will curl into the crook of Mino’s strong shoulder and look up at the way the moonlight casts shadows of Mino’s lashes on his cheeks.

“They talk, you know that, right?” Mino murmurs sleepily into his hair one cloudless, particularly biting winter night.

“I know,” Jinwoo says. “I think I’m… used to it. Sort of.” There’s no secrets in the fashion world. He’s resigned, at this point. “Does it bother you?”

“It would be lying if I said no.” Mino opens his eyes, stares up at the ceiling. Jinwoo understands. Even if he’s used to it, it doesn’t make things hurt less - and Mino is new at this.

And people would always talk. Heck, lord knows he’d probably talk too, if he were in their shoes.

“What exactly do they say, though?”

Mino blinks, slowly. “You want to know?”

“Not really, I guess,” Jinwoo presses his nose into Mino’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mino murmurs, his hand absentmindedly carding though Jinwoo’s hair. “Go to sleep.”

“Have you ever?” Jinwoo asks.

“Ever what?” Mino’s voice is thicker now, and Jinwoo knows he’s falling asleep.

“Been with a guy,” he mumbles, half-hoping Mino doesn’t hear, but he does, and his hand in Jinwoo’s hair stills.

“Yeah,” Mino shifts a little, pulling Jinwoo closer. “You know him, too. Seungyoon.”

“Ah,” Jinwoo says. He wonders if he should have asked. “I didn’t know.”

“We’d always been close but one night we’d just had a little too much to drink, and got carried away,” Mino snorts, and Jinwoo really wishes now that he hadn’t asked. “But it never turned into anything more than that. We’ve spent so much time together that dating would have felt somewhat like dating family.” He drops a kiss on Jinwoo’s forehead. “Does that answer your question?”

“I was just worried, if you’d be okay, with people talking,” Jinwoo says, making a mental note to shut up about it in the future. On hindsight, Seungyoon was really very cute.

“People will always talk,” Mino yawns. “On the bright side, we’re interesting enough to be talked about. It’s like making it onto the news.” 

The bells above the door jingle, and Jinwoo looks up from his tulip practice to see Seunghoon grinning at him over the counter. 

"So this is where you've been so busy with on all your off days. I want a latte, with one of them tulips you're working on, mind you." 

Jinwoo frowns at Seunghoon. "How'd you know?"

"I hear things," Seunghoon winks, as Mino appears from the backroom. "Hello," he says, eyeing Mino curiously, and Jinwoo fights the urge to roll his eyes.

"Hi," Mino says. "It's nice meeting you. I heard you put your money on Jinwoo in the pool they have going."

"You what?" Jinwoo whips around to glare at Seunghoon, who steps back with a surprised bark of laughter. 

"I couldn't help it," he shrugged. "They kept talking about it in the break rooms whenever you weren't around. There was quite good money on Mino too, if that helps."

"Well, you just lost good money," Jinwoo snaps. "Go away."

"You need to hire better baristas, look at your staff chasing away paying customers," Seunghoon snickers as Mino swipes his card for payment. 

"Seunghoon won, technically," Mino says, bemused, after Seunghoon has left in a fit of cackles. "You kissed me first."

"I guess he did, technically, but the whole world doesn't have to know," Jinwoo shrugs. "I just wanted him to lose the bet. And you fell for me first."

Mino blinks back at him, wide-eyed.

"I heard back then that you were intending to quit fitting to focus on the cafe but requested to keep just the jobs that covered me," Jinwoo nodded, putting his mug down. "Dressing room gossip is useful at times."

"You win this round," Mino says, shaking his head. 

"Do I get anything from it?" Jinwoo leans in, blinking up at him.

"What do you want?"

"You in lipstick again." Mino freezes for a moment, stunned, and then laughs.

"You liked it?" he asks, reaching out and threading a warm hand through Jinwoo's hair. 

"So did you," Jinwoo manages into Mino's mouth, as Mino leans in and kisses him. They're out in the open, and there's customers in the cafe, and at the back of his mind Jinwoo knows people will be talking about them before the day ends but he can't find it in himself to care, not when the air has stilled around them, not when it feels like his heart is bursting in his chest, not when there's no other place he would rather be.