Chapter Text
The light of the monitor was the only thing illuminating the room as Minhyung’s fingers danced across the keyboard.
While he recalled to base he pushed up his glasses and pressed two fingertips against his eyes. They were starting to hurt a bit from staring at the screen for too long, but who cared.
Back in lane, his Yunara dashed through a crowd of minions in a flurry of precise clicks and ability placements that left the enemy ADC dead before their support could even react.
He was trying to drown it all out - the lingering bitterness of HLE’s early exit from the LCK Cup, the hollow feeling of having time now that he didn't really want. He’d done the same thing last year during his benching, grinding solo queue until his eyes burned, but it did feel different this time.
Back then, he’d been fighting for his life; now it just felt like he was fighting his own head.
He knew the team had potential, otherwise he wouldn't have joined, but they just didn't click yet. That was just a matter of time though and it actually wasn't what kept him queuing right now. Even with the game’s audio at full volume, he couldn't stop remembering and replaying that night.
It had been weeks and still the ghost of Jihoon’s touch and the sharp clarity of his commands kept Minhyung up at night. He had enjoyed slipping back into full submission more than he could have ever anticipated.
Handing control over had felt like slipping into a warm bath after being out in the cold for too long. It hadn't been like his usual dynamic with Geonwoo though. When Geonwoo led, he guided him through the dark with a steady, firm hand. Jihoon in the same role had been something else entirely.
Minhyung leaned back as the victory pop-up coloured his dark room blue. He sighed deeply as he let his head tip back against the chair.
Calling Jihoon a Dom was laughable. He was a brat, a tease, a sweet sub who usually preferred to be the one being worshipped. Yet, that night, he had wielded his power in a way that had flattened Minhyung and Geonwoo both.
That night had awakened a near desperate urge to please him that Minhyung just couldn't shake. He wanted to serve, to bask in Jihoon’s attention and he just couldn't make sense of it. It was confusing, almost frightening and it frankly pissed him off that he suddenly didn't seem to understand himself anymore.
When Gen.G had defeated them, Minhyung had been deeply disappointed and annoyed with the ruleset, but seeing that triumphant expression on Jihoon’s face had made something in his stomach twist in arousal anyway. Geonwoo had looked all concerned when he had rushed to the restroom after the post-game fistbumps.
Back in the dorms he’d spent hours staring at his ceiling, going through his feelings with a fine toothed comb, terrified he’d committed the unforgivable mistake of falling in love with his friend, who was already half of a very happy pair.
But no, it wasn't that deep, a puppy crush at most. How fitting, considering what they called him …
Usually, he’d bring such a crisis straight to Geonwoo. But for the first time since they met, the other man didn't feel like the safe option. He wasn't a neutral party after all; he was the bloody boyfriend of the problem and how could Minhyung ever admit to him that most of his recent fantasies revolved around him kneeling for said problem.
He had felt relief when Geonwoo had announced that he'd visit his family for a couple days. However, having the dorm to himself hadn't helped one bit. He needed an outside perspective! Someone who knew about them, knew him and most importantly, knew how to keep a secret.
Minhyung picked up his phone from the desk, as the queue timer ticked up. For once it was useful that it sometimes took ages to find teammates. His thumb hovered over a contact. Seonghoon had also been knocked out of the Cup earlier than expected. Maybe it was time for a little loser's meeting.
<are you free to grab a drink or something one of these days hyung? I need to get some stuff out of my head>
When the invite to the Nongshim dorm the day after tomorrow came back a few minutes later, Minhyung felt a wave of relief so sharp it was a little ridiculous.
He cancelled the queue, not in the mood to wait any longer and shut down the PC. The silence of the room felt a lot less unbearable than before he had started grinding. He just had to get through one and a half days, he could do that.
Maybe sleep would even come easier tonight and wouldn't be filled with dreams of intense eyes watching him from above.
When the door swung open, it was Siwoo that greeted him; a very surprised looking Siwoo who leaned against the doorframe with crossed arms. "Huh, Minhyung-ah, you're the visitor Seonghoon mentioned? That's new," he said, his eyes scanning Minhyung’s slightly frazzled state. "Do I even want to know what you two are up to?"
Minhyung forced out a laugh. It was a strange reality they lived in, with so many players across various teams now at least somewhat aware of their little group’s unusual hobbies. It was a small miracle that nothing had leaked to the public yet. If the fans or press ever got so much as a glimpse of what they got up to behind closed doors …
"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to, Siwoo-hyung," Minhyung replied cheekily. "Plausible deniability and all."
Siwoo snorted and moved aside to let him in. "Whatever! Our room is at the end of the hallway. Don't do anything I woul- … you know what, I'm not even going to say it. Just behave!"
When he stepped into the indicated room, Minhyung was still smiling a bit. Under different circumstances he would have loved to tease the support some more.
Seonghoon looked up from where he was relaxing on his bed. He offered a warm, easy smile that quickly faltered as he tracked his guest's tense body language.
Minhyung grabbed the desk chair, sinking into it and spinning in a slow circle. The whir of the wheels was the only sound for a moment. "I could use some advice, hyung," he said, uncharacteristically serious.
Seonghoon let out a long, dramatic sigh, though his eyes remained kind. "Nobody ever just comes by to just say hello to little old me. First Geonwoo, now you ... if Jihoon shows up next, I’m going to start charging you guys by the hour. I’m a toplaner, not a therapist."
The attempt at humour fell flat.
Normally, Minhyung would have had a witty retort ready, but today, he just stopped the chair’s rotation and stared out the window.
Seonghoon sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to face him, all playfulness vanishing from his expression. "Talk, Minhyung-ah, I'll listen," he said.
The younger man laid it all out, though he was unusually careful with his words. Picking what to disclose from the night with a rare sense of restraint, glossing over the more explicit details. He knew Seonghoon didn't need - or want - a play-by-play of how delicious Geonwoo or Jihoon looked high on pleasure.
"It’s like … I don’t even know," Minhyung muttered, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. "I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, the way it felt to just ... let go for him. Maybe it’s just curiosity? The temptation of something I know I shouldn't want? But I can't get the image of Jihoon like that out of my head. It’s stuck there and looping."
Seonghoon stared at him for a long moment of silence, his expression unreadable. "Minhyung-ah? Seriously? You’re not normally this dense. And save the kicked puppy eyes for the cameras or your midlaners, because they don't work on me."
Before Minhyung could protest, Seonghoon stood up from the bed. He crossed the small space until he was standing directly in front of him. "Stop slouching like that. Look at me and listen," Seonghoon commanded.
Minhyung obeyed slowly, his spine straightening as he met the older man’s eyes with a mix of apprehension and hope. Seonghoon’s face softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Why have you already decided you can’t have this?" He asked. "Actually think about it for two seconds. Jihoon and Geonwoo invite you into their bed more often than not as far as I'm aware and despite my valiant efforts to remain ignorant, I know way too much about what you three get up to during those nights."
Minhyung’s expression turned sheepish, because he was well aware that it was largely due to his own inability to keep his mouth shut that Seonghoon was so well-informed.
"You’re acting like this is some impossible wish, when really? You just need to ask them," Seonghoon continued. "Ask Geonwoo first if you’re worried about overwhelming Jihoon, but ask. Even if one of them says no, I can guarantee you this won't change anything between you. But if you don't speak up, you’re going to keep sitting here looking like a dog that’s been left out in the rain for three days straight.”
Minhyung groaned, leaning his head back. "What is it with you and the dog puns toda-?"
"Quiet, I’m talking!" Seonghoon interjected with an amused flick of his index finger against Minhyung's forehead. "Communication is the only thing that makes what we’re doing possible. You know that. So do yourself a favor and actually talk to them, okay? You're not a coward, don't act like one."
Minhyung couldn't really argue with his logic. The knot in his chest loosened significantly as he accepted that, a quiet “You're right, hyung, I'll talk to them.” escaping his lips.
Seonghoon clapped him on the shoulder with a mischievous grin. “Good boy!" Minhyung glared at him, but he couldn't keep his own mouth from twitching into a smile.
"Now that we’ve sorted that out, stop brooding. You’ll give yourself wrinkles before your time.” Hauling him out of the chair the older man added: "Siwoo and the others are probably still in the common room playing some god-awful party game. Let’s join them, you look like you could use some fun.”
Minhyung stood up and followed his friend. He still had difficult conversations waiting for him, but he definitely felt lighter and a bit of mindless fun sounded perfect.
When they entered the lounge, Siwoo was in the middle of what might very generously be called charades but looked more like a full-body exorcism and included way too much swearing for a supposedly silent game.
Yechan filled them in that the support was trying to act out a specific champion’s death animation. The room was in hysterics - half the team doubled over laughing, while the others shouted absurd guesses, none of which made any sense.
The good mood was contagious and Minhyung was just starting to lose himself in the distraction when the phone next to him buzzed.
Seonghoon stepped away for a quick, hushed conversation. When he returned, he caught Minhyung’s eye. "Geonwoo is stopping by for a bit," he announced, tucking his phone back into his pocket. "He needs to pick something up I’ve been holding onto for him."
Minhyung felt his entire body go rigid and he immediately hated that he reacted that way to the mere mention of one of the most important people in his life. He tried to keep his face neutral, but the sharp look Seonghoon shot him suggested he failed miserably.
When Geonwoo arrived fifteen minutes later, he barely had time to offer a general greeting to the room, before Seonghoon was on him, maneuvering him toward the hallway.
"Come on," he said, his voice not allowing any argument. Seonghoon’s other hand snagged the sleeve of Minhyung’s hoodie, pulling him up and dragging them both toward his room.
"Hey!" Siwoo yelled after them, pointing a finger in warning. "Whatever you're doing, stay away from my bed! I have to sleep there tonight and I don't want to need a priest or a bucket of bleach!"
The lounge erupted in cat calls and laughter. It was Hyunbin who burst out laughing the loudest and Siwoo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He was still trying to figure out which of his teammates was Seonghoon’s secret boyfriend. He’d been methodically crossing names off his list, but hadn't even considered their youngest - until now …
Geonwoo was laughing too as he was being hauled away, seemingly unfazed by the chaos. Seonghoon just rolled his eyes, a long-suffering look on his face. "We should have never told him anything!"
Once they were inside, he pointed toward his wardrobe. "The box you’re looking for is in there. Bottom shelf, behind the jerseys." He turned his gaze toward Minhyung, who was standing still like a statue, as if he was trying to turn invisible. An almost mean little smirk played on Seonghoon’s lips - the kind of look that promised trouble.
Or as Minhyung realised soon after: payback for months of oversharing about his sex life. "I’m going back to make sure they don't burn the place down. You two need to have a conversation," Seonghoon said, his tone dripping with fake sweetness.
Minhyung’s heart did a somersault and dropped into his stomach.
Seonghoon paused with his hand on the doorknob before he looked directly at Geonwoo. "Minhyung here was just telling me how he wants your boyfriend to boss him around again. Have fun talking!"
The door clicked shut with the finality of a gunshot. Minhyung stared at it. He knew Seonghoon was ultimately just trying to help, but right now he really could have strangled him. He didn't want to face Geonwoo, but the silence was starting to feel suffocating so he forced himself to turn around.
Geonwoo didn't look angry. If anything, he looked intrigued when he sat down on the edge of the bed to watch Minhyung with a curious, way too adorable little head tilt. "What was that about?" he asked, tone calm and inviting.
Minhyung took a deep breath, the air in the small room feeling thin. He realized there was no point in lying or coming up with excuses, not after Seonghoon had thrown him to the wolf like that - and Geonwoo had a way of seeing through him anyway. So he started talking and once he began, he couldn't stop.
He explained how he wasn't able to stop thinking about that night weeks ago, when Jihoon had taken the lead. How different it had felt. How it reawakened something he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. How it scared him, confused him, made him question what exactly he wanted, what exactly it all meant.
Geonwoo let him finish, patient as always. When Minhyung seemingly didn't have anything else to add, he asked: “Can you stop standing in the middle of the room like you’re about to be executed and come here to me, Puppy?”
The casual endearment soothed some of the anxiety Minhyung still felt. After revealing all that, it felt … warm, like a confirmation that he hadn't screwed up too badly. He moved forward on shaky legs.
Without a word, Geonwoo reached out, his hands firm on Minhyung’s waist and pulled him down into his lap. Minhyung followed the momentum, kneeling over him, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Geonwoo’s hands moved up, cupping either side of Minhyung’s face, his thumbs stroking over his cheekbones, forcing their eyes to lock.
"Do you want Jihoon for yourself?" Geonwoo asked, his voice steady and serious.
Minhyung jerked back. The very idea felt like sacrilege. He must have looked as incredulous as he felt, because he saw the almost imperceptible tension in Geonwoo’s shoulders bleed away.
"Of course not!" He blurted out, his voice cracking. "You two belong together! I’d never- I never even thought about that. That’s ... that’s not what this is! I just ..."
Geonwoo’s smile turned cheeky when Minhyung trailed off. He looked like he’d just baited a lane perfectly and watched the enemy walk right into the trap. "So where exactly is the problem with that little fantasy of yours then? If you don't want to steal him and you just want to be his puppy for a bit ..." He leaned in, his nose brushing Minhyung’s. "I think that sounds hot. And if Jihoon is up for it, I don't see why we couldn't make it real."
Minhyung just shook his head, a helpless, relieved chuckle bubbling up from his throat. The weight he’d been carrying for weeks practically evaporated when faced with Geonwoo’s blunt logic. He let his muscles go slack, dropping his forehead against Geonwoo’s shoulder.
"How the fuck do you always make everything sound so easy?" Minhyung whispered into the fabric.
"One of us needs to keep it simple and it sure as hell won't be one of you two hopeless overthinkers," Geonwoo murmured back, his arms sliding down to wrap around Minhyung’s waist. “If that's all that's bothering you and I don't have to put out any other fires, let's grab my stuff and leave. I'm so tired, you have no idea. I haven't been able to sleep more than four hours at a time back home. I missed my bed and someone to cuddle with.”
Minhyung smiled at the sudden shift from calm Dom to whiny friend. “Maybe I can help with that.”