Minseok gets a crush and proceeds to be an embarrassment to mankind (and shoujo manga).
The first time it hits Minseok, it literally hits him. In the face. With a soccer ball. He looks up at the sound of violins and a male chorus singing ‘
The nurse scribbles apathetically onto her clipboard, “You fainted. Your friend dragged you here,” she spins around on her chair and turns to face him, lips set in a firm grimace. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Ah, there you are!” a voice calls.
“I’m pretty sure I’m still sick,” Minseok claims, walking over to the bed and sprawling himself over it. “It’s okay, I’ll just sleep it out. Return to your cinema.”
The nurse slaps her forehead in exasperation. “Honestly, you look fine, and you don’t seem to be showing any symptoms.”
Minseok ends up suppressing all feelings extending beyond platonic friendship and treats his emotions like some kind of high school crush that’d blow over in a few weeks. But one month before their debut, two years later, and Minseok still has to bite his lip and try not to turn into incoherent mush when Lu Han is extra touchy, or extra lovely, or simply extra Lu Han-y. It’s a problem, since they’re supposed to be really good friends. Which they are because Minseok is thankfully, good at keeping up false pretences, but he isn’t going to lie to himself and pretend he ended up borrowing Brokeback Mountain to watch with Lu Han on their movie night by accident.
Minseok turns around to tell Lu Han ‘No I don’t have lip balm and maybe you should ask the cordi noona instead?’, but it ends up sounding more like “Wh-why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
Minseok blinks, he’s seeing a lot of rose petals and a field full of daisies and little woodland critters dancing in a circle around Lu Han singing nursery rhymes. He rubs his eyes. And there’s Lu Han pouting as a cordi attempts to fix his hair. That’s better. “Umm…”
Minseok does stop trying, he really does. But it’s also really hard to when the formation for EXO-M has both of them pressed up against each other more than often not. Minseok can usually save himself by taking a few steps back and violating Jongdae’s personal space instead, but it’s an unavoidable issue in interviews. Because Lu Han is a touchy person, with a compulsive need to intertwine their fingers together whenever “Xiumin’s” failed existence in China amuses him, and he places a hand on Minseok’s thigh whenever they’re asked to talk about each other. And even though they have a translator right there, Lu Han feels the need to lean over and bury his head into Minseok’s neck to keep him on top simply out of the good of his heart. Minseok can see Jongdae’s eyes flicker enviously towards them, probably simultaneously judging Tao’s uselessness at translating. The whole thing makes Minseok so deliriously happy it’s actually quite pathetic.
The best thing about airports, Minseok thinks, is the free Wi-Fi. He can stand against a pillar tapping away on his phone and look so engaged that no one approaches him. Including an incoherency-inducing friend who shall not be named.
“I think you should tell him,” Jongdae offers. It takes Minseok a second or two to absorb this information before he bursts into harsh laughter.
Lu Han blinks, “What’s wrong with him?” he turns to Jongdae.
Jongdae sighs, “So many things.”
After Jongdae’s necessary but absolutely scandalous revelation a few weeks ago, Minseok begins to take all necessary precautions in order to ensure his absolutely life destroying secret crush on Lu Han remains a secret. From at least Lu Han. He’d given up hope on everyone else after the host from their last interview pulled him aside and told him the proper way to put his hand on Lu Han’s thigh.
He spends his days avoiding eye contact, purposefully putting a two metres distance between himself and Lu Han at all times, and to prevent his alleged sleep talking from ever occurring again, he plays Bubble Pop on his laptop on full blast before falling into slumber. He wakes up to Zitao shaking and rocking himself back and forth on the bed next to him, but dismisses it as a sacrifice for the greater good of mankind. Everything goes pretty well, and he manages to not blush, stutter, or make an idiot of himself in front of Lu Han for two weeks straight.
He does, however, manage to start twenty fights with Lu Han within those two weeks.
“Seriously, Minseok what’s wrong? We’re only ever arguing these days!” Lu Han frowns, arms on his hips.
Minseok scoffs, “We don’t only ever argue,” he insists. Lu Han snorts and flops back down on the sofa and Minseok grimaces. “No seriously, we don’t—Oh. My. God. Did you just have the audacity to put your head on my special pillow.”
Lu Han lets out a strangled cry, “For God’s sake,” he throws the pillow at Minseok, who ducks and causes it to instead collide with a showpiece on top of the hallway table. “Take your fucking pillow,” Lu Han curses, stalking back into his room.
Minseok is at a loss for words, something tightens in his chest but he assumes he probably deserves it. Oh well, there’s no way Lu Han would ever like him back or even suspect Minseok of liking him now.
After Minseok spends five consecutive days wallowing in his own misery, writing dark poems in his journal, and changes his lullaby from Bubble Pop to a Korn song, everyone decides it’s time to save Minseok from himself. Of course being the worst bandmates ever, they assign the actual saving to Lu Han. Who, in a completely unoriginal fashion, corners Minseok whilst he’s angsting on his bed and locks the bedroom door behind them. The first thing to go through Minseok’s mind is to run, the second thing is ‘did I remember to get rid of that incriminating sign Zitao had stuck up’.
“Seriously, what’s up with you?” Lu Han asks, leaning against the door. Minseok sits upright on the bed and he prays to whatever God there is that Lu Han doesn’t notice the way Minseok’s legs turn into jelly in his presence.
“Nothing is up with me,” Minseok replies, it’s meant to be reassuring but it comes out scathing. Oops. Well, might as well be consistent. “Can you please move from my general vicinity?” Minseok attempts to manoeuvre his way around Lu Han, but the latter moves side to side, obstructing all possible routes of escape.
“Nope, we’re going to talk about this. This is why Kris should’ve taken tips from Suho. If we all just talked about our feelings every week this kind of stuff could have been avoided.” Lu Han stands his ground and smiles when Minseok weakens and collapses on the floor. The last thing Minseok needs is to divulge his ‘feelings’ to Lu Han.
“Please no,” Minseok murmurs.
“And this is why it’s just me,” Lu Han chortles but his expression turns staid soon after. “But really Minseok, what’s wrong? You’re acting so moody towards everyone these days. Some days you’re so quiet, other days you’re just bitter, and then you’re sad and it’s like you’re stuck in a funk.”
Minseok lifts himself back onto two feet and attempts to look Lu Han dead in the eye, but the eye contact makes his stomach tissue burn and so he aims a bit lower towards Lu Han’s nose. Such a cute nose, like a little button, Minseok just wants to—
“Why?” Lu Han asks again.
Oh right, Minseok clears his throat. “Honestly it’s not a big deal, I’ll get over it soon. It’s just been hard, adapting to a new culture and all,” Minseok excuses, trying to reach for the doorknob in between Lu Han’s elbow. Lu Han catches his wrist in between two fingers and frowns disbelievingly.
“Okay, can I be honest? It’s not even everyone. It’s just me. I feel like it’s just me. I get this feeling that you don’t like being around me anymore, and well, it sort of hurts. I mean, it’s me Minseok. Have I done anything wrong? Is it something I said? I just, please,” Lu Han pleads, bending down to catch Minseok’s eye. Minseok gathers up his courage and takes a peek at Lu Han from between his short bangs and – ah, fuck, the violins are starting up again.
Lu Han bites his bottom lip, “Please,” he tries again, “I miss you.”
Screw the violins, screw the male chorus, screw the rose petals, the anime sparkles, and the little woodland critters that would scarper around Lu Han in his delusions. Minseok wasn’t made for these Shoujo-esque archetypes. “Okay,” Minseok seethes, “do you want to know what you do wrong?”
Lu Han steps back and raises his arms, “Hit me with your best shot.”
“That!” Minseok spits out.
Lu Han quirks an eyebrow, “What?”
Unfortunately Minseok is like a balloon newly pricked, or a drunk fifteen year old girl, and the word bile spewing from his mouth is unstoppable. “You’re so freaking caring, and you’re always looking out for other people, and everyone loves you and sometimes I think I do too! And then you get so shy whenever people fawn over you, and you get so insecure whenever people say you’re pretty, and it’s so freaking precious it drives me fucking insane! And it makes no sense because we’ve all seen those unfortunate pre-debut pictures of you! You’ve only known everyone for two years but it’s like they love you more than anything, like holy cow, I love you more than anything! And it’s not even emotional assault that you do to me. You just rub your hands over my thigh during interviews and whisper into my ear and it’s like no big deal, and I’m just left trying to hold myself together, and it’s so freaking unfair. And just the way you look at everyone. Like you have so much love in your eyes, and you just leave me feeling so, and just-” Minseok exhales deeply and presses his eyes shut, trying to forego the overwhelming embarrassment and the incessant ringing in his ears.
“Wait, what did you say?” Lu Han asks, Minseok looks up at him and almost growls at how unfazed he looks.
“I said a lot of things, I really don’t want to repeat myself—“
“No just, what did you say before the attack on my face,” Lu Han asks.
“Um, hold myself together?”
Lu Han tsks, “No before that.”
“Thigh touching,” Minseok offers, and at the reminder Lu Han’s ears turn pink, which basically causes Minseok to flush red. Fantastic.
“B-before that,” Lu Han stammers.
“I lov—“ Minseok thins his lips, “nothing,” he squeaks.
“Do you really?” Lu Han asks.
“Do I what, I didn’t say anything, what did you hear?” Minseok rambles, “Like do I really what? Without the verb I can’t really—“
“Minseok,” Lu Han states firmly, “I’m asking you seriously, do you?”
“Do I what? I’m saying it seriously too, there’s no way for me to interpret—“
“Fine, I was trying to save you embarrassment, but I’ll say it out loud.” Lu Han says, and smirks when Minseok looks at him wide eyed. “Do you—“
“MAMA, MAMA—“ Minseok sings, closing his hands over his ears.
“JUST LET ME BE YOUR LOVAH”
“BOOM SHAKALAKA!” Minseok runs forward and stops Lu Han’s sentence.
With his lips.
“Yes, yes, I do. More than anything, more than anything in the world,” Minseok confesses breathlessly, colouring when Lu Han’s eyelids flicker up and down. Minseok clears his throat, “not enough to say it out loud though. And like, it’s okay, I’ll close my eyes and you can leave the room, I won’t mind, just I’ll move on. Like—“
“No,” Lu Han cuts him off, “that’s, that’s not what I want,” he says. Lu Han pushes Minseok back and rubs the back of his neck. “I- I- you’re nice. I want to try, I think I might like you?”
Minseok blinks and tries to hold down the stupid smile quirking it’s way onto his face. “R-really?’
“Well, I think I do. I didn’t think so. But now I think I do!” Lu Han adds quickly at the downturn of Minseok’s face, “ a lot actually. I think I have for a long time coming, really.”
“That’s, wow, that’s, okay, um… Do you want to actually date? Or just continue being friends and see how it evolves.” Minseok asks.
Lu Han laughs and brings Minseok closer, “You’re so stupid Baozi” he whispers into his ear, and Minseok knows he’s not dreaming up the ridiculously velvety tone Lu Han says it in. Lu Han’s lips travel from the shell of Minseok’s ear until they meet the other’s own chapped mouth. There’s no more glitter and anime sparkles this time, just fireworks.
“Woooooow,” someone exclaims from the door, causing Minseok and Lu Han to break apart abruptly.
“Um, sorry Yixing, did you need something?” Lu Han asks, lifting his collar to hide the flush around his neck.
“No, just continue,” Yixing shakes his head, “but wow, really, who saw this coming?”
a/n: hey there guys! long time no fic. anyway, this was written in a really spur of a moment kind of way, and it's definitely not my best. and i keep telling myself i'm not in exo fandom, and i'm totally not, i swear, but i sort of adore these two and just, yeah, they're adorable. also, i hope you noticed how i not so subtly beg everyone to write xiuhan fic inside of the fic. so guys, yeah, write me xiuhan fic! so that i don't have to pollute the pairing with my bad fics! also, not that this should surprise anyone, but i can't be funny. i legit went to my sister and said HELP ME WRITE FUNNY STUFF.