characters: you x minho
summary: when being study buddies with bad boy!minho turns into something moe
quote: “good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you”
a/n: i’ve been working on a few fics so hopefully they’ll be done and uploaded soon!
3:29 pm – after school
Staring at the stack of books that sat in front of you, you picked up the top one and scanned it. Sure, reading a book about statistics wasn’t the best thing to do, especially when you’re in a library with plenty of other genres, but at the moment, you wanted to do anything but talk to the boy in front of you.
The sound of a pencil being placed on the desk tells you that he was either done solving the problems or he just outright gave up.
“Lee Minho,” you said, glancing up from your book to look at the boy who sat in front of you with his head in his palm, “if you don’t stop staring at me, I’ll–”
“You’ll what?” He cocks his head to the side as if teasing you.
You sighed heavily, curse Minho and his childish antics. Closing the book, you sat up. “Just do the problems.”
Minho pouts his lips as if contemplating before turning to you with a sly smile. “But what if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll fail,” you say flatly, checking the time on your phone. “and you’ll be wasting my time.”
“But math is so boring, like c’mon who has time to stupid logarithms? Is the world going to end if we abolish math? Nope, so I definitely won’t be sad if we get rid of it,” MInho whines, making you chuckle a bit.
“So what I’m hearing is that you want to end the tutoring session earlier?” You reached for your bag just as Minho wraps a hand around your wrist, thus preventing you from leaving.
“No,” Minho says, dragging out the syllable, “instead of tutoring, how about we go get some food? Hm?”
“Like…a date?” Minho’s face brightened as he nods profusely.
“No.” You watch his face fall as you remove your hand from his hold and swing your backpack around your shoulder. “Try harder, Mr. Lee.”
Minho watches you as you exit the library. The corner of his lips curved up as he, too, packs up his backpack. Perhaps, getting a date out of you was harder than he thought.
3:02 pm – a few days later
“Why don’t you want to go on a date with me?” You two opted to be outside instead of the dreary library and thus chose to sit on a shaded table on campus. Minho pops a piece of gum into his mouth before looking at you again.
“Take a wild guess Minho,” you snorted, closing your textbook.
Minho contemplates for a minute before turning back to you. “Can’t seem to find one.”
“Well, one,” you lean forward to him, closing the distance between the both of you. His eyes flit to your lips before looking back up at you. “I’ll give you a number: five.”
When you pull away, Minho looks at you curiously. “Five? Five what?”
“It’s been five months since I’ve begun to tutor you and that’s the number of girls you’ve dated, or so I’ve heard.”
“Oh?” Minho chuckles. “I think the word ‘date’ is a bit too extr–”
“But yet you want to take me on one?” You raise an eyebrow, making Minho become flustered.
“But we’re talking about different contexts here, y/n, I rather take you out to somewhere nice and perhaps, we could continue on from there…?”
“You make me sound like I’m different than your other hookups,” you laughed. “Besides, you’re not really my type.”
Minho raises an eyebrow. “Oh boy, lemme guess, I’m your typical bad boy that likes to wear motorcycle jackets even in extreme weathers and likes to get involved in fights?” You nodded, making Minho smirk. “And I guess you go for the typical ‘good boy’? Someone who doesn’t like fighting and probably has way better grades than me?”
You nodded once again. Minho speaks up again, leaning closer this time until his face is inches from you. “What a shame, bad boys do it better.”
You looked at him quizzically. What was he even saying? “Do what better?” you scoffed.
Minho drops his head to your ear, where you could feel his breath vibrate throughout your body, making you shudder out of reflex. “Let me know when you change your type, then we’ll talk.”
You mentally gagged slightly when he winked. Curse Minho and his antics. You rolled your eyes and slid away from him. “If all you’re gonna do today is be flirty, then go to the football fields, there’s plenty of cheerleaders there.”
“But I like being with you,” Minho states. “And plus, I still haven’t understood binomial probability, tutor.”
Sighing, you opened your book again, making Minho lean closer to you. “Alright, chapter 1.” As his eyes began to flutter shut, you flicked his forehead, making his eyes snap open. “And try not to sleep on me again, will you? This is the third time we’re doing this.”
6:56 pm – next week
It was a Thursday, meaning that you would be tutoring Minho, but instead, you found yourself stood up. After waiting an hour for Minho to show up–in which he never did–you found yourself packing up your books and briskly walking your way to the bus station.
It wasn’t like you didn’t text him, no, you sent him a series of texts that turned more and more agitated the later time got. It wasn’t like Minho to bail on you either, in the whole time you’ve tutored him, he’s never left you hanging, at least without a warning. So, what was different about this time?
It wasn’t until later that evening that you received a text from on of Minho’s friends–Jungwoo–to inform you that Minho was involved in a school fight.
“Where are you going?” your mom’s question makes you stop in your tracks. In fact, what were you doing? You slipped on your shoes before standing up again.
“T-to the store,” you stuttered. You weren’t really good at this lying thing–to be honest.
Confusion shifts to understanding on her face. “Alright, be safe and don’t buy too many snacks, they’re not good for you, you know.”
“I know,” you chuckled as you headed out the door.
The cold air bites at your skin as you wonder why in the world there would be cold winds in the middle of April. It wasn’t long until you found your way through the maze of streets to Minho’s house–a place you were too familiar with.
Walking up to the door, you began to knock fervently, eventually shifting to the doorbell. You weren’t afraid of the fact that one of his parents could answer the door–because they weren’t even home most of the time.
“What are you doing here?” Minho asks after you rang the doorbell for the nth time. He held a bag of ice towards his eye as he leaned against the doorframe.
“I heard about the fight,” you explained.
Minho pulls himself up as he reaches for the door. “If you’re here to scold me for getting into more fights because “violence is never the answer”, forget about it because I’ve already received a mouthful from the principal.”
“I’m not,” you said, surprising him. “Plus, you know I wouldn’t do that until you’re fully healed.” You pointed to the open cut that rested on his upper lip. “At least clean it up, or else look ugly and scare away all the girls–not you don’t already, but you know what I mean.”
He scowls, but nonetheless, opens the door wider to let you in. A humble dwelling wasn’t the definition of Minho’s house, with multi-millionaire parents that were never home, Minho lived all alone in his spacious mansion.
“Any drinks?” Minho asks, leading you to the living room.
“I’m not gonna stay long, so don’t plan anything.”
Minho’s lips form a frown. “I’m doing this as the host, not for my own personal reasons.”
“Whatever, just get a first aid kit so I don’t have to keep looking at your bruised face.”
Minho scowls again, but exits for a few minutes before emerging with a white plastic box. “Do as you wish.”
You began to patch the cuts on his hands before moving onto the one on his lips. “Why’d you even get into a fight?” you asked, attempting to make small talk.
“Some guys can’t shut their mouths,” Minho says gruffly, distaste settled in his mouth as he recalls the fight.
“Then just tell them to fuck off,” you sighed as you leaned closer to clean the cut. Minho winces a little as you apply the rubbing alcohol. You said softly, “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”
Minho stares at you, awestruck as you began to notice the lack of distance between the two of you. The close proximity of Minho made you gulp a little. No, it’s not like you never found him handsome, of course, there were times where you found yourself in awe of his looks. But this time, it was different. You were seeing him in his raw beauty, no leather jacket, no gelled hair, just him.
Minho, on the other hand, noticed your silence. He, too, took in your beauty. And man, was he starstruck.
His fingers find their way to your face, where they move a piece of stray hair away. You knew that you should turn away soon, but you stayed in place.
Unable to resist the urge, Minho leans forward until you could feel his hot breath on your face as he asks: “Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” you say, your voice above a whisper as if to not disrupt the moment.
Before you knew it, Minho gently presses his lips against yours as his hands soon find comfort on your waist. Moving away from your mouth, Minho trails light kisses along your chin to the base of your neck and gently pushes you into the couch.
“Wait.” Minho’s lifts his head up to stare into your eyes, confused.
“I-I told my mom I would be at the store.” Your eyes flit over to the analog clock that sat on the table. “Which was an hour ago.”
Understanding, Minho pulls away to make way for you to stand up. He leads you to the door as you slip on your shoes. “Thanks…for patching me up.”
You smiled slightly. “No problem, just try not to get into another fight ‘cause maybe next time a band-aid and rubbing alcohol might not be enough.”
Minho chuckles as he opens the door for you. “Can’t count on it.” Stepping out, you forgot about the strange cold weather, immediately shivering, in which Minho quickly takes off his leather jacket from the coat rack and wraps it around you before you could protest.
“Can’t have you sick or else I’ll have to miss another day of tutoring,” he chuckles as he zips it up to your neck. He pauses for a moment, as if to say something, but decides not to. “Good night, y/n.”
You smiled. “Good night, Minho.”
That night, you laid on your bed wide awake after minutes of tossing and turning. The taste of Minho’s lips lingered on yours as you instinctively reached up to touch your lips. Never in your life did you think that you would ever kiss Lee Minho. But now that you did, you couldn’t get the feeling of euphoria out of your head when you kissed him.
HIs taste lingered on your lips–the taste of cherry cola. Although they were light, you could still feel Minho’s lips pressed against your neck as they wandered down. All you could think of was him. Your eyes flitted to his leather jacket that laid on the edge of your bed. You could smell its vanilla scent from where you were.
You wished that you could keep it. Suddenly, the idea of being with Minho didn’t seem so questionable anymore. But then you remembered the Minho everybody knew: a bad boy that liked to flirt with almost everybody. Your heart dropped a little. What if the way he treated you was how he treated everybody? What if you were just another potential fling of his?
With a heavy heart, you erased all the previous thoughts of Minho and tried to fall asleep once again.
12:23 pm – lunch
“Stop ignoring me.” You look up to see Minho in front of you, seemingly out of breath. You ignore his words and return to scrolling on your phone, in which Minho swiftly pockets it.
“You’re ignoring me,” Minho states.
You reach into your bag and threw his jacket at him. “If you’re just here for your jacket. Take it, I don’t need it anymore.”
Minho drops the jacket back on the table. “I’m not here for the jacket and you know exactly why I’m here, y/n.”
“What happened last night–”
“Tell me the truth, y/n,” Minho says in a quiet voice. “Tell me so I’m not stuck wondering what we are for the rest of the day.”
You sighed. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Your eyes glanced up to meet Minho’s concerned ones. Or were they confused?
“What?” Minho asks. He runs a hand through his brown locks.
“Don’t act dumb, Minho,” you sighed once again. “Don’t act like you don’t know who you are. You play with hearts for a living, what makes me different than your other one-week flings? Huh?”
You took one last look at him before proceeding to walk away, only to have Minho stop you by holding onto your wrist. “y/n.”
You hated how the way your name rolled off his tongue as if it belonged there. “I know my reputation and it’s not a good one, I know. And I know how fast rumors spread around this school, but I haven’t been without another person ever since you began to tutor me. And even so, I would never hurt you, y/n, never would I ever think of hurting you.”
“Do you know how cliche you are right now?” you scoffed. “You’re acting as if I’ve changed your whole life. How can I know that this isn’t just another ploy to get into my pants, huh? How can I know that you’re different?” You shook off his grip and began to walk away, your heart heavy.
“If you were just another person, I would have never gotten into that fight,” Minho speaks up. You turned around.
“What?” The word barely escaped your lips.
“Yesterday. Two guys from the football team started to mock you, and you know, usually, I would tell those shitheads to fuck off, but because I let my heart control my actions, I got bruised up. But they have broken noses and a lesson learned, and that’s all that mattered.”
“You did that…because of me?” you asked. Minho nods. “You idiot.”
You didn’t hesitate to hit his shoulder lightly, all previous feelings gone. You had trusted Minho, for a long time, but god Minho would never let you hear the end of it if you ever told him.
Minho takes your light hits, glad that you are no longer mad at him. “So, we’re good?”
You nodded. “We’re good.”
2:44 pm – a few days later
“What’s the occasion?” you chuckled as you walked over to Minho, who donned a bright red flannel jacket that contradicted his usual black bomber jacket. He leaned over the hood of his car with his hands behind his back, hiding something from you.
He seemed a bit nervous, but you didn’t want to question it. As you get closer, you see that he pulls out a bouquet shyly from behind him. “For me?” you say as Minho practically shoves the bouquet in your hands. “Really, what’s the occasion? It’s rather odd that you’re being nice to me, what’s the catch?”
“N-no catch,” Minho fumbles over his words. He’s rehearsed a couple hundred times in front of the mirror and few times in front of the boys before he came here, why was he so nervous? He could practically feel his heart beating out of his chest now. He knew that if he looked up into your beautiful eyes, he would melt and wouldn’t be able to form his words, which was why he opted to keep his eyes focused on the black pavement underneath of him.
“I’ve b-been meaning to say something for a while, y-y/n,” Minho starts. To reassure him to keep speaking, your hands find their way to his, interlocking them together, making Minho look up. His breath hitches as words began to clog up at his throat.
“Minho, no need to be nervous,” you smiled, making his heart skip a beat. When was the last time he was so smitten?
He takes a deep breath, staring into your eyes once again. “y/n…Ireallylikeyouwillyougooutwithme.”
You didn’t have to ask him again to decipher what he just said. But you liked to mess with him.
“I’m sorry,” you said, bringing your hand up to cup your ear. “Can you repeat that? Did Mr. Lee Minho get all nervous just to confess to me? Perhaps–”
“y/n,” he whines at your teasing behavior, anxiously waiting to hear an answer. “Answer the question, please.”
You chuckled as your arms encircled Minho’s neck and tiptoed up to meet his lips. Taking him by surprise, Minho’s eyes widen as he soon relaxes, his hands resting on your waist. When you pull away, you see his eyes still closed before they flutter open, his pupils wide.
“Does that answer your question?”
2:56 pm – a few months later
Minho hears rapid on the knocking before going over and opening the door, revealing you mid-knock.
“It’s a Saturday,” Minho dryly says. You push past him, dropping the stack of books on his dining room table.
“Everyday’s the perfect day for studying,” you replied, turning around to face Minho, who was a couple of inches away from you, shocking you with his close proximity.
Before you fall, Minho catches you, his hands finding a place on your lower back as he pulls you up. “But I had other plans in mind.” The corner of his lips curved up and his hands slid lower until they found comfort in your back pockets.
You were tempted to run your hands through his hair and down the side of his body, but as he leans down, you placed a finger on his lips. His eyes flutter open, a sense of desperation filled them, and Minho looks at you curiously.
“Study first,” you said, pulling his hands out of your back pockets before leading him to the dinner table and setting down the book in front of him. “Then we’ll continue this, deal?”