Minho was truly beginning to feel frustrated; nothing had ever taken him this long before, without getting any kind of results. He'd been in love with Jinki for...how long was it now, he wondered, maybe five years or so? Since high school, for sure, and for the past year or more he'd been stepping up his game, actively trying to pursue Jinki.

But Jinki, it seemed, was very good at not being pursued. Mention a date? Jinki would ask why Kibum, or Taemin, couldn't come along as well. (Oh, but you know how much Kibum likes to eat there, too!)

Try to hint at his very real, and long-felt affection, and receive a terrible joke in return. (What do you call a man with no body and no nose? Nobody knows! Hahaha!)

Being more direct didn't help, because every time Minho became serious or attempted to have a 'talk' with Jinki, he would, somehow or another, manage to put it off and change the subject.

They were friends, this at least, Minho was sure of. They'd been friends since school, they'd had years to talk, joke, go places, discuss deep, thoughtful things together, play games, all the things friends enjoyed doing. But try as he might, Minho just couldn't get past that step; it seemed too steep, too precarious, even for his challenge-loving self to climb.

The worst part was Minho knew that Jinki liked men, they both knew this about each other, so Minho couldn't even soothe himself with ideas of Jinki not being gay.

All of this lead Minho to the idea that maybe, maybe, no matter how hard he tried, Jinki just didn't want him like that and his lack of silence on all of Minho's efforts was Jinki not wanting to confront him, admit it out loud, and hurt him. Maybe. Minho didn't know anymore.

With all these thoughts in mind, Minho wondered if maybe it was time to tone it down, give it up, and go back to just being friends. He hated giving up, but he couldn't force someone to love him if they didn't want to.

It was New Year's Eve that night, and Minho decided that he wanted to focus on having fun and spending a good time with his friends, not worrying about his utter lack of a love life, so it was almost unconscious, his subtle shift in behaviour that evening.

Kibum was holding the party at his place, as he 'didn't trust anyone else to have a good party' and besides all four of Minho's closest friends, there were a whole host of people who he assumed were Kibum's friends, acquaintances, and random people off of the street. There was a definite party atmosphere going on tonight.

“Jinki's already here,” Kibum said as Minho walked in, not needing to be asked. “He's in the living room, I think,” he added, easily ignoring the glare Minho sent his way; he didn't want to think about that tonight.

Still, Minho shuffled through the faces he didn't know and found Jinki and Taemin talking together in the living room. Minho smiled as soon as he saw them, genuinely happy to see his friends.

“Do you want another drink?” He asked, looking from Taemin to Jinki. For once, Minho wasn't giving as much attention as possible to Jinki, just the same amount he gave all of his friends (which was, granted, still a lot, but without any hints of attraction). As the night wore on, the drinks went down, and the laughs were had, Minho found that he worried a lot less about Jinki's feelings for him when he wasn't so blatantly putting them out there, and wondered if, maybe, this was the way to go.

In a blur of drinks and good times, the clock was counting down before Minho even knew it. And without him even realising, he was looking around to make sure all the people that mattered the most were near him, searching for Jinki because Minho had lost sight of him, and then he was there, right in front of Minho, smiling at him.

Minho felt his chest constrict painfully, the breath catching in his throat, and he knew, now matter how many times he might try to tell himself, it wasn't going to be so easy to just fall out of love with Jinki, not when he smiled at Minho like that, as if he were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Jinki came over, a drink in hand, and his greeting was lost in the noise as everyone around them started counting down.

Ten...

Minho could see Jinki's lips forming the word 'hey', and he smiled in return.

Nine...

Jinki sidled up close, closer than would be normal for him, and Minho could feel his heart leap into his throat. So much for just acting like nothing mattered, tonight.

Eight...

With one swift smile, Jinki had insured all that came crumbling down around Minho.

Seven...

Jinki began to say something else, his words again lost in the noise around them, and Minho only caught syllables here and there, he couldn't even guess.

“I can't hear you,” he said, leaning his face toward Jinki's.

Four...

Jinki smiled again, and looked up at Minho in such a way that he wondered if he might just combust, at any moment, from just being overwhelmingly in love with this man.

As they counted down the last few seconds together, Minho felt fingers slip against his own, struggle for a moment to find their place, before eventually linking their hands together.

One.

As the shouts erupted around the room, glasses and bottles and anything else that could hold alcohol, clinked together in celebration, Minho felt his chest swell and his head spin from the unexpectedness of this gesture. Even as they shouted a 'Happy New Year!' to each other and had a drink, Minho could not wrap his mind around the fact that Jinki was holding his hand. Their fingers were laced together and Jinki's skin was warm, there was a slightly nervous tilt to his smile, but he'd initiated it.

Eventually, when the celebration of the new year had worn off a little and people began to speak at normal volumes to each other, Jinki slipped his hand free from Minho's, and for a moment he felt stranded, wondering, until he saw the way Jinki was looking at him. With a nod of his head, Jinki gestured that they move, and Minho obediently followed until they were somewhere a little quieter, shielded a bit from everyone's view.

“What were you trying to say, just now?” Minho asked, as soon as they could hear each other, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Jinki looked away then, seeming almost a little shy. He said something, in a quiet, half-heard murmur, and Minho leaned in closer to try and hear.

“What was that?” he asked.

This time, Jinki looked up and met Minho's gaze. “I said, I'm sorry I made you wait for so long.” Jinki looked away again, and Minho could have sworn that he was almost blushing, which was a strange thing to witness.

He felt confused by this comment, and he didn't want to get his hopes up, in case Jinki had meant something else, anything else, anything but what Minho wanted it to mean. The confusion must have shown on his face, because Jinki suddenly looked even more nervous.

“When you were...the way you acted around me tonight,” Jinki began, only able to meet Minho's gaze briefly, “it made me realise. I might have made you wait too long, and I hoped...” He fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with all of this, but Minho could almost see some part of Jinki will himself to carry on. “I hoped that I hadn't. The look on your face earlier seemed to say I hadn't. Have I?” This last was asked imploringly, looking up into Minho's face, and there was so much happening inside Minho in that moment that he didn't know how to respond.

When he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was a quiet, “What?”

Jinki looked almost pained. “I'm not making any sense, I'm sorry.”

In an effort to correct his mistake, Minho stepped forward, closer, and took one of Jinki's hands, holding it between his own, holding on to this moment, to the hope growing inside of him. “It's not too long,” he said. “Not too long at all.”

The smile unfolded slowly across Jinki's face then, slow and beautiful, with a warmth that filled Minho completely.

“Oh, good,” Jinki said, and for a moment he seemed as dazed as Minho felt, the alcohol and the surprise of this moment mixing into something that didn't feel quite real yet. “Good,” he said again.

Unable to help himself – Minho was finally getting what he had tried for for so long – he leant forward, pulling Jinki into his arms, holding him close. It was only a moment before Jinki's arms wrapped around Minho in return, and he leant against him,

Minho let out a long, shuddering breath, his heart was hammering inside his chest and his emotions were going almost haywire. Resting his head against Jinki's, he whispered into the other's ear a soft, affectionate, “Happy New Year.”

Minho could feel Jinki shiver in his arms and the grip on his shirt tighten, as Jinki swayed in closer.

It was going to be a good one, Minho thought, smiling.