Dozens of different thoughts fly through Minho’s mind as he’s standing face to face with a person he’s never wanted to see again. Dozens of excuses, dozens of ways to run away. But somehow he can’t make use of any of them; not when the guy’s eyes hold so much vulnerability and hope. And pain. So much pain.
That’s why instead of pretending not to know the guy in front oh him, pretending not to have had the most intimate form of physical contact with him, he bows hesitantly, nervously and breaths:
“H-hi.”
The other one bits his lower lip uncertainly and returns the bow.
“Hi.”
Minho his upper lip out of nervousness, because, really, what is he supposed to do now? Return to searching for the book? Envelop the other in a friendly hug (which would be the stupidest thing ever)? Run away in the end…?
“How’ve you been?” he asks instead, scratching the back of his head nervously, sending the other an apologetic smile. The boy returns the uneasy smile.

“I… I’ve been fine, I guess. You?” the look he gives Minho is absolutely heartbreaking and he needs a moment to catch up with that he’s just said.
“I, yeah, I’m good. I, uh, it’s a pretty weird place to meet, I guess” he adds with a short, broken chuckle, wanting nothing more than to just disappear.
“I work here.” comes a short answer.
Oh. How ing convenient. Just shoot me right now, would you?
“Oh” Minho replies eloquently. “Oh” he repeats and once again lets out a nervous laugh. “Well, I don’t come here too often” he explains, making an insignificant gesture with his hand.
The other nods with a shaky smile.
“I can tell. I have never seen you here. I thought we wouldn’t meet anymore anyways.” he ads as if an afterthought, crossing his arms and ducking his head down.
Minho blinks at him.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d meet here either… but… well, it is surprising that we meet.”
Somehow his words don’t seem to convince the other boy. His smile falters just the slightest but he fights with it and fakes it. The answer sort of crushes Minho.
“I thought I’d never see you again. You actually left before I woke up.”
The boy’s lips part as if to speak, but he can’t formulate any words; the weight of what he’s done- the betrayal, the leaving-without-telling, the hurt he caused his one night lover- it’s all to much for him. He can’t handle it all at once.
The other seems to read his mind; he adds quickly:
“I’m sure you had your reasons though.” his gaze seems to pierce Minho’s soul, it’s so palpable that it hurts. “Now, what is this? Why a biology section? You’re a medicine major?” he changes the subject casually, though his voice holds so much coolness and sadness that Minho winces.
What the have I done…
He’s thankful for the change of the subject though.
“Um, no, I was about to find a book for my—“ lover? Lover of over three years that I had been apart from for four months and because of whom I slept with you? “my friend. He’s, uh, he’s studying medicine. He needs some good for his thesis, I’m not too good at that biological stuff, you know” he finally says. The use of the word “friend” is just a temporal thing; he doesn’t want to lie, but he doesn’t want to make the other even sadder. It’s not like he needs to know anyways. It’s not like they’re going to see ever again. Minho’ll take care of it.
“Your friend? The one from the bar?” the other’s eyes lit up at the memory and Minho wishes they haven’t.

“Uh, no, the one from the party is Jonghyun, one hell of a romantic” he grimaces and that actually makes the other chuckle, somehow uncertainly, but it’s better than that faked smile still. “It’s… for my other friend.”
“I see” he nods ‘So, you don’t come here too often?”
Minho is glad that the other doesn’t continue Taemin’s subject. He’s had enough lying for today.
“Uh, I’m not a bookworm, I… actually prefer comics.” he finally admits and wishes he could just burn in embarrassment. But he doesn’t hear any mocking laugh, so he raises his gaze to meet with a very curious looking eyes.
Almond-like, beautiful, honest eyes.
God really hates him.
“Comics? There’s a comic library just about three streets away” the other says, genuinely surprised and not by the slightest amused. He’s more of… curious.
“Oh. I didn’t know, I tend to buy things I want to read, so… but… I could stop by and see what they’ve got” he nods fidgeting uneasily.
“They have lots of comics, old ones, new ones. Pretty much all the possible new ones, actually” the other continues, his voice staying emotionless. All that Minho can do is nod again.
“I… guess I’ll drop by then.”
The latter nods.
“You should. If you’re really into comics, that’s it.”
“I am”.
There is an uncomfortable silence between them (as if the talking was comfortable anyways…) when Minho comes up with another subject.
“You said you’re working here. Are you… now? Am I, you know, distracting you?”
The other quickly shakes his head.
“No, no, I’m on my break now.”
That gives hella lot of opportunities.
Minho chooses the one that seems most fair of them all.
“Maybe you want to talk? With coffee and all that stuff?” he suggests, hoping that his voice won’t shake too much.
The look the other sends him is so hopeful that it breaks Minho’s heart.
And then, that fake smile appears again.
“Yes. I do. I think… I think we should talk.”
Good. Oh, good. Then… I’ll just… “I’m sorry, I wasn’t myself, I was drunk, so freaking drunk, and it’s all that damn bastard, Jonghyun fault, he was too occupied gaping at the bartender’s in his tight, silver jeans, though he knows I can’t hold my drink, he’s an idiot, I missed my Taeminnie and it sorta just happened, I hope you’re not too sad about it, I can’t forget it either—“
Minho sends the other boy a smile that isn’t reassuring by any means.








“I don’t do one-night stands.”
Minho almost chokes on his coffee and these are only the first words the other uttered since they came into the cafeteria.
He feels really puzzled, not knowing how to react; tell him the truth? Lie?
The other sees his hesitance.
“I-I don’t mean to bind you over it or anything. I just thought I’d let you know.” he quickly adds, and sets his gaze on his cup.
Minho bits his lip in deep thought.
“I… I’ve never had a one-night-stand either.”
That makes the other lift his head in pure surprise. He scans Minho’s face as if not sure whether to believe it or not; then he smiles.
“You’re a good person” he chuckles, his cup with somewhat trembling fingers.
A good person?
“Am I?” Minho asks incredulously. He’s far from that description.
“Yeah. You are. You… seem to care about people” the other says and takes the first sip from his cup. He his upper lip unconsciously and Minho’s gaze sets on the movement. “I mean, you help your friend with finding a book… and you don’t pretend to not know someone like me… I bet most of people that leave without a word don’t acknowledge knowing their one-night-fling.” he ends, looking down at his cup again. “So… thank you. You know, for coffee.” he adds with a light chuckle.
“I… doubt someone wouldn’t want to see you again once he meets you.” Minho finally utters, not without difficulties though.
“Well, as far as my life goes, it’s been pretty much all about that… but let’s leave it, I’m being pathetic” he tries to turn in into a joke.
“Well, you kind of are” Minho helps him with shy smile and that actually makes the other laugh. Like, actually laugh. His laugh is warm and honest and a bit shy and it’s just impossibly heartwarming.
They stay silent for a moment, but Minho’s not that nervous anymore. He feels like it’s alright, like the other just forgave him and decided to move on with life. Minho’s thankful for that.
When they walk out of the cafeteria, Minho remembers something.
“I don’t even know your name.”
The other’s eyes widen immediately and then he chuckles.
“See, I don’t know yours either… it’s funny, I’ve never thought of asking.”
“Yeah, that’s… really funny” Minho admits, scratching his neck.
“Jinki.” comes out a silent whisper followed by an extended hand. Minho feels how the other’s, Jinki’s fingers burn his skin at the contact.
“Minho” he replies and quickly retreats his hand, putting it into his pocket. “I guess I’ll see you around, then” he adds and doesn’t wait for the reply; he turns on his heels and walks away as fast as he can.
No, I won’t see you around, it’s the last time I’m seeing you.
Or so he hopes.







Home greets him with a pretty much hyper and excited boy jumping straight into his arms the moment he walks in.
“Welcome home, baby!” he exclaims, giving his boyfriend’s cheek a long peck “guess what! I finished earlier today! The professor let me go because he knew that I just came back and that I have a lot to catch up with and that I’ve learnt all that stuff in Japan anywa—are you even listening?”
Minho only holds him closer and relishes in the warmth of his fragile body. They sway like this for a while, Minho running his fingers through the younger’s soft locks.
Blond. Soft blond locks.
It’s okay. Everything’s fine. Nobody’s hurt. Everything’s settled.
Well, maybe not exactly, when Minho realizes that he forgot to borrow the book that Minnie needs so much. He comes up with the last lie (at least that’s what he promises to himself), says they didn’t have it (he just can’t tell the truth, but he’s doing it with good intentions) and promises to try looking for it the next day in some other library.
Everything’s fine. Nobody’s hurt.

Everything’s perfect. Everyone’s happy.

He hates himself.

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