… ever agree to the date. Minho had spent a good part of the week convincing himself not to get his hopes up, that just because Jinki had held his hand during that one party at Kibum’s house didn’t mean that the older man was actually romantically interested him. He was just a naturally touchy person. Yeah. That also explained why he’d kissed Minho’s cheek—completely straight, no homo—later that same night.

Finally, armed with movie tickets in hand and words ready on his tongue, Minho was confident that no matter what he would be shot down—despite this certainty, he asked anyway, that just being the type of guy he was—when he finally dropped the question.

"Jinki-hyung," he began, a little hesitant when Jinki’s eyes moved up to meet his. The older man was grinning at him, gaze questioning.

"Yes?" he asks.

Suddenly Minho’s mouth is stuffed with cotton, too dry to form words with his tongue, while the rest of his body breaks out with cold sweat. “W-Will you g-g-go see a movie with m-me?” he blurts, and then curses himself internally at the sound of his voice.

However, Jinki’s responding smile was blinding, and Minho nearly fainted when the elder nodded his affirmation. “Of course! I’d love to see a movie with you.”

Shocked, Minho chokes out, “Really?” Jinki nods again. “When I asked, I meant as my date. Like, as more than friends.”

The older man is still smiling at him. “Your point?”

Flabbergasted, Minho asks, “And you’re okay with that?”

Laughing, Jinki says, “Why not? I think I’ve been pretty obvious about my feelings for the past few months.”

Minho is utterly speechless. “M-Months?!”

So maybe he wasn’t as all-knowing as he’d liked to think.

~~
the game.