Chapter Text
A weirdly gentle knock came at Min-Gi’s door.
And for the first time since he was eleven years old, Min-Gi pulled the blankets over his head and groaned in response.
A beat passed. Then two. Then the door gently creaked open. “…Min? Normally, I’d be totally in support of you sleeping in, but like…it’s noon? And you seem like the kind of guy who’s going to get a headache if you sleep past noon.”
Min-Gi sighed and peeked out of the top of his blankets, squinting blearily at the sunlight and the way Ryan glimmered in it like an angel as he stood sheepishly in his doorway, balancing a box in one of his hands.
Shit. He wasn’t supposed to look like that.
“I brought doughnuts,” said Ryan, a note of hope in his voice. “And coffee?” He held up his other hand, revealing the reason why his knock had sounded strange. He’d probably knocked with his foot if both his hands were full. “Y’know, to pay you back for the bagels? Except I didn’t know what kind of doughnuts you like, so uh… I just got a dozen and tried to mix them up as much as possible.” He bent over to set the doughnuts on the edge of Min-Gi’s bed. “I figured we could split them, so whichever ones you don’t want, I’ll happily take.”
As Ryan opened the box, Min-Gi watched his hair, the way it swung forward with the change in gravity, the way it traced the edge of his jaw, the way it tickled his neck. And the way it slid off his cheekbone, revealing a bruise that Min-Gi hadn’t seen before.
Where did he get that? Was that from last night? When that robot thing threw him across the road?
Min-Gi reached out of his blankets, freeing himself from their grip to hold Ryan’s face, to swipe his thumb gently across the blotch of red and purple, as if a simple concerned touch could save him from that minor wound, as if it was something that could be kissed better.
Then he realized what he was doing.
His gaze darted from Ryan’s cheek to his eyes, which had flown wide open, seeming to glow white against his newly bright red face.
Min-Gi was sure he’d gone the same exact color.
“Uh—!” He snatched his hand back. “Uh, I was— You have a bruise? And—”
“Oh.” Ryan stood up straight, flattening his hair over his injured cheek. “Right, yeah, that’s from last night.”
“I thought so,” said Min-Gi. “I just— Does it hurt?”
“I mean, yeah,” said Ryan. “It’s a bruise.”
“Did it hurt when I touched it?”
“No, no.” Ryan repeatedly flattened that lock of hair between his thumb and index finger. “You were, like…super…gentle.” He cleared his throat. “So! Coffee?” He transferred one of the cups to the hand he’d been using to pet his hair. “I don’t know how you like it, so I just got it black, but there’s some sugar packets rattling around in the bottom of the doughnut box, so…?”
“Thanks.” Min-Gi took the cup from Ryan and reached into the box for the sugar, pushing a sticky bear claw out of the way to reach.
Ryan lowered himself silently onto the space beside Min-Gi’s legs and grabbed a jelly-filled doughnut out of the box. Min-Gi took a bite out of a classic sprinkled doughnut, eyes on Ryan as he pensively chewed his own first bite.
Okay. This is fine. I can do this. We can just…be friends. I don’t have to think about how it felt when he kissed the back of my head last night, or how scared I was that he’d get hurt. I mean, that last part is fine, I guess. Friends can worry about each other. And he can date guys and I can just…ignore it. And if I am gay, then I mean…I don’t actually have to act on it. I mean, he never has to know. No one has to. I can just…ignore it. It’s fine. We can be friends. It’s fine.
Swallowing his mouthful, Ryan looked down at his doughnut, raised his eyebrows, and took another bite. “Y’know,” he began, mouth half-full. "I can tie a knot in a cherry stem with my tongue.”
Min-Gi coughed and yanked his coffee to arm’s length, afraid of splashing himself as he spluttered and gasped for air. “What?!”
“I was just thinking, you know…” Ryan shrugged a shoulder as if he hadn’t personally pile-driven Min-Gi’s mind straight into the gutter. “When that robot-pilot-person was beating me up, they were all—” He gestured with his doughnut like he was holding up a claw. “‘Why do you care? You don’t even know each other! Wooooooo…’ So you know…” He shrugged again. “I decided I want to fix that.”
Min-Gi swallowed. “And you decided to start by telling me…that?”
“Well, I’m eating a jelly doughnut,” said Ryan. “And I was like… ‘Raspberry jam…raspberries…cherries… Hey, I can do that thing with my tongue!’” He took another bite, smiling proudly. “Why? Did it make you start wondering what else my tongue can do?”
“No!” Yes.
Ryan laughed, like he knew damn well what he did. And damn it, he probably did know. He seemed…weirdly perceptive. Not smart, exactly, but…observant.
Min-Gi held his doughnut in his mouth and turned his attention to his coffee, pouring the sugar in and replacing the cap so he could swirl the contents around in lieu of stirring without making a mess. Taking his doughnut back to free his mouth, he took a contemplative sip of his coffee and looked up.
Ryan was staring at him.
“What?” asked Min-Gi.
Ryan went just as red as he had when Min-Gi touched his face, but it didn’t stop him from giving a sharp, deadpan response. “That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Min-Gi was going to start sweating through his pyjamas at this rate. “…What was?”
“Uh, everything you just did?” squawked Ryan as if it was obvious. “With your doughnut and your coffee—”
“I just added sugar!”
“Yeah, in the cutest way possible!”
“How was that cute?!”
“It just was!”
Min-Gi, lacking an argument that amounted to more than a “Nuh-uh!” (which Ryan would have no doubt countered with a “Yeah-huh!”), shoved the urge to argue back down his throat with a gulp of still-quite-hot coffee.
Having given himself a moment to think, Min-Gi lowered his cup, took a breath, and said, “I was supposed to go to college. Finance. With an emphasis on risk assessment.”
He looked at Ryan over the lid of his cup.
Ryan looked back, eyebrow raised.
“You said we should get to know each other,” said Min-Gi.
“No, I know, I just…” Ryan averted his eyes. “That, uh… Sounds fun… Why…?”
“Why did I pick finance?”
“Why didn’t you go?”
Min-Gi fell quiet. He swirled his coffee around in his cup, idly stirring the sugar, putting off the answer.
“I couldn’t handle the stress,” he muttered. “I never wanted to go anyway. It’s just what my parents wanted for me. I started…throwing up. Getting sick at the idea of going. Physically sick. And I knew I’d never be able to keep up with work that stressful if I couldn’t even think about it without puking, so…I gave up before I even started.”
“That doesn’t sound like giving up to me,” said Ryan. “That sounds like making a smart choice.”
“Smart choice?” Min-Gi laughed bitterly. “Look at me. I’m living alone in a shitty apartment with no friends, working at a dead-end job, with no future.”
The bed shifted. The box of doughnuts made an audible creak as it was lifted and moved to the other side of the bed. When Min-Gi looked up, he found Ryan sitting closer. Much closer.
“You don’t seem that alone to me.” He set a hand on Min-Gi’s leg. “I’m your friend, aren’t I?”
“…Sure.” Min-Gi looked back at his coffee. “I guess. But…” But you’re leaving eventually. And Kez has some mission that’s going to have to be done eventually, and then I’ll be alone again. “That still leaves the ‘no future’ thing.”
“Dude.” Ryan shook Min-Gi’s leg, sending a small amount of pain jolting up his back just from being jostled. “You don’t have ‘no future’, you have an open future. You’re, like, a life plan bachelor. You can do whatever you want. Be whoever you want. Screw your dead-end job. You could travel! Go to Toronto or, hell, New York! Or Dubai or Tokyo or any other big city in the world! You could change the world! You don’t know! There are tons of opportunities out there. You just have to wait for yours to knock.”
Min-Gi scoffed. “Most people wouldn’t see it that way.”
“Screw people!” Ryan shoved Min-Gi’s arm, sending a slightly bigger shock of pain up his back and evoking a tiny “ow” coupled with a wince. “Who cares what they think? What, are they going to steal your opportunities and throw them in the trash because they decided you don’t deserve them? Dude, if you were smart enough to get into uni, you’re smart enough to be someone without it. I mean, you’re what, twenty-three? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, dude! You’re so young!”
“I’m…actually twenty-one,” said Min-Gi.
“Really?” The determined twinkle in Ryan’s eye was replaced abruptly by blank confusion. “Huh. I thought you were, like, a couple of years older than me. Wait, I’m not older, am I? When were you born?”
Min-Gi raised an eyebrow. “April 15th…?”
Ryan blinked.
He sat back, oddly silent, a strange sort of smile on his face. “Oh. Heheh. That’s…funny, Min. Seriously, when’s your birthday?”
“April 15th,” Min-Gi said again, firmer this time. “Why would I lie about that?”
“Because, uh…” Ryan hesitated, for reasons Min-Gi couldn’t understand. “That’s…my birthday.”
“Oh.” Min-Gi felt a warmth come rushing back to his face. Which was stupid, right? There was nothing about Ryan having the same birthday as him that should have turned him red. Except for the fact that Min-Gi immediately started having fantastical ideas about the two of them being born on the same day because they were meant for each other and neither of them was meant to be without the other and that maybe that was why Min-Gi had always felt so lonely—not because he didn’t have friends, but because he didn’t have Ryan, specifically—and that maybe he’d been leaving that space on the opposite side of the room open because all that time he’d been waiting for Ryan and that was where his belongings were always meant to be, filling the space in his room just as Ryan filled the space in his heart.
Min-Gi shook his head. Romantic nonsense. The real world didn’t work that way. There were no soulmates, and their shared birthday was just a coincidence.
“Well…” Min-Gi looked at his doughnut, hesitant to take another bite. “…at least I know I’m not going to forget your birthday.” He took the bite anyway.
Ryan laughed. “Yeah… Guess not.” He set his doughnut on the lid of the box behind him, dusted flakes of glaze off his hands and scattering them across Min-Gi’s floor, and he reached across Min-Gi’s lap to set a sticky hand on the other side of his thighs. “It’s weird, though, right?”
Min-Gi swallowed hard enough to nearly choke, flustered in part by the mere idea that Ryan might have thought the same thing he did, and in part by the fact that Ryan’s hands were straddling his legs. “Weird?” His voice came out too high-pitched. “What’s weird? Why would it be weird?”
“I mean, I was born in BC,” said Ryan, dead serious. “We’re not that far from my parents’ house, and I bet we’re not that far from where you grew up, either. So like, what if we met before? What if we were born in the same hospital, at the same time, on the same day, and we were in the same nursery, and our souls just—” He pulled his hands off Min-Gi’s legs and brought them together, hard enough to clap, but not to bounce off each other. Just hard enough for Ryan to interlock his fingers without hurting himself. He held his joined hands there, right above Min-Gi’s lap. Min couldn’t take his eyes off Ryan’s, and Ryan wasn’t moving his eyes from Min’s. “What if we, like, connected, you know?”
Min-Gi laughed, sharply. “What? That’s ridiculous.”
“Dude, I’ve heard weirder,” said Ryan. “Weirder true stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Like getting chased by a giant robot, dude!”
Min-Gi sighed, exasperation taking over his anxiety. “Ryan—”
“Think about it,” said Ryan. “Even in, like, a totally believable way, what if we just saw each other. We saw each other, and—and we remembered? Or at least I did? Like way deep down. And maybe when I saw you working in that diner, that was what made me talk to you. Wait—” He dropped his hands onto Min-Gi’s thighs. “Where did you go to school?”
“Uhh…” Min-Gi raised an eyebrow. “Like, secondary school? Powell Lake.”
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Dude… We went to the same school.”
“…No,” said Min-Gi. “No, not possible. If we’re the same age, we would have been in the same year. I would have noticed the only other Asian guy in my year.”
“So would I!” said Ryan. “That’s what I’m saying! This is so weird! Quick, who was your math teacher?”
“How do I know you’re not just going to say ‘mine, too!’ no matter what I say?” asked Min-Gi.
“Because we’re going to say it at the same time!” Ryan grabbed Min-Gi’s shoulders and shook them gently. “On three.”
“Ryan—”
“Please, Min? Just humor me?”
Min-Gi sighed. “Fine.”
Ryan nodded sharply and took a deep breath. “Three, two…! Mrs. Ot—”
“Mrs. Otto.”
Min-Gi raised his eyebrows, surprised by the echo of his own answer falling from Ryan’s lips.
Okay, so…getting admittedly weirder…
“When did you have math class?” asked Ryan, all the more urgent, squeezing Min-Gi’s arms so tight they almost hurt.
“It was the first class of the day,” said Min-Gi cautiously. “I always had trouble staying awake because—”
“Because she kept her classroom at, like, five degrees all the time?” Ryan shook Min-Gi’s shoulders. “I know! I’d always sit in the way back row because it was right over the vents—” Min-Gi furrowed his brow. “—Well, actually, the vent was in the back corner, next to the window. I always sat in the seat right next to that one because I never got there in time. The corner seat was always taken up by someone who got there earlier—”
“By me.”
Ryan shut his mouth. Sharp enough that his teeth clicked when they met. He stared, frozen, wide-eyed.
Min-Gi stared back. “Ryan, I sat in that seat. Right…next to—”
“Next to me…” Ryan’s hands slipped down from Min-Gi’s shoulders. “You were right next to me. How—?”
“I don’t know,” said Min-Gi. “I guess we just…forgot?”
“No way,” said Ryan. “It’s only been a couple years and I could never forget a face like yours.”
“…Is that an insult?”
“It’s a compliment, Min,” said Ryan distractedly, climbing to his feet. “You’re a total zeek.” He crossed to the empty side of the room, fingers steepled and pressed to his lips, leaving Min-Gi to absorb what Ryan had just said by himself.
And he did, face turning a bright, blotchy, tomato-ish red and a thin sheen of sweat spreading across every inch of his skin.
“So here’s what I’m thinking.” Ryan turned around, fingers steepled, eyes averted in thought. “We were supposed to meet. In fact, we did meet, but the guy in the robot is a time-traveler—hence the giant, futuristic robot—and he went back in time to stop us from meeting for some reason, but fate was on our side, so we met anyway, and the guy doesn’t like that, so he’s trying to make us un-meet. …Or something.”
Min-Gi ran his hand down his face, trying to calm himself enough to answer. “Why wouldn’t he just go back in time to when we met and stop it from happening?”
“Maybe he can’t do it anymore for some reason,” said Ryan. “Or maybe…” He gasped theatrically, spinning around to point at Min-Gi’s chest of drawers. “The bell!”
“…The bell,” deadpanned Min-Gi.
“Yeah! What…” Ryan winked and tapped the side of his nose. “…if it’s actually part of his time machine?”
Min-Gi hid his face in his hands, as much to hide the blush he knew was still there as to express exasperation. “You’ve watched way too many movies.”
“It could be part of, like, a Rube Goldberg machine,” said Ryan. “Like he has to sound an exact tone that he’s only ever been able to get just right with that particular bell to get his time machine to work, and he lost it somehow, and you wound up with it?” He paused. “…How did you wind up with it, anyway?”
“Not important,” said Min-Gi, perhaps too quickly. “Why would someone need a sound to make a time machine work?”
Ryan scoffed. “Do I look like a time travel scientist?”
Min-Gi pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t look like you could figure out a home computer.” He sighed and leaned back. “Ryan, these ideas are, uh, great, but maybe we should stick to this side of reality.”
“Dude. Chased by a crazy robot guy.” Ryan flailed his arms at the window as if the crazy robot guy in question was just outside. “I think we’ve moved past our usual realm of reality. This is way bigger than us in any way we’ve ever experienced.” He hesitated. “That we know of, anyway. I’m still kind of reeling over the supernatural-forgetting-about-you thing.”
“Ryan—”
“Don’t.” Ryan raised a finger. “Don’t try to say we haven’t met before, because we have. Only two Asian guys in our year, same exact birthday, sat next to each other in Mrs. Otto’s class? We would have at least talked. Or had some opinion about each other, even if we weren’t best friends—which, by the way, we totally would have been.” He pressed his face into his hands, sliding them under his glasses, and when he took a breath, it sounded almost…sad.
“What’s wrong?” asked Min-Gi.
“I just…” Ryan took his glasses off and rubbed his eyelids with a thumb and his first two fingers. “I’m trying to remember what you looked like in high school, or what the apparent nameless guy who sat next to me every day in Mrs. Otto’s class looked like, and there’s just…nothing. It’s like static on an old, worn-out tape.”
Min-Gi pushed his blankets off and got out of bed with a wince. “I think I have my old yearbooks…somewhere.”
He grimaced as he kneeled in front of his chest of drawers, back tugging in all the wrong places.
“Dude…” Ryan dropped to the floor beside him. “You should be laying down.”
“It’s fine,” said Min-Gi. “It’s just for a minute.” And as much as he didn’t want to say it out loud because he could imagine the face Ryan would make and it hurt, he really didn’t want Ryan going through his stuff.
He opened the heavy bottom drawer and started taking his belongings out. Records, old music books, and a photo album all piled beside him before he reached the bottom, where his yearbooks sat. Or around half of them. Some of them, he supposed his mom must have kept. But there was a decent variety. Including senior year, when he had Mrs. Otto’s math class.
“Here.” Min-Gi handed Ryan the entire stack. “Knock yourself out.”
Ryan took them eagerly, rushing to the bed so fast he nearly sat on the doughnuts just so he could set them on his lap. He opened the one at the top, flipping through page after page until—
“…Yeah, I definitely would have noticed you. Kid me would have thought kid you was the coolest guy on the planet. And…he would have been right.”
Min-Gi allowed himself a smile, but said nothing to encourage the compliments.
Ryan strode ahead, flipping through pages all the way to the end.
“…Check it out.” He turned the yearbook around, wide open, pointing to a picture inside. It wasn’t much, just a simple black-and-white photo of small kids working on some kind of construction paper craft.
The weird thing about it, the part Ryan no doubt meant to show Min-Gi, was that they were sitting across from each other at the same table, Ryan cheesing at the camera, Min-Gi focused intently on what he was doing.
Ryan, the one sitting on the edge of Min-Gi’s bed, turned the book back around, uncharacteristically quiet. He ran his hand down the glossy page, across their childhood faces, every trace of every sparkle in his eye faded to nothing. He was just…somber. Lost in thought, as crazy as it sounded.
“Something must have happened,” he murmured. “I know I was supposed to meet you.”
Min-Gi held his breath. Everything in him screamed to tell Ryan…something. To pat his shoulder, to encourage him, to tell him everything would be okay. But that was a slippery slope. If he gave into his basest desires, his most demanding wants, right here, then what would happen next time, when it was more than sympathy he wanted to give? What would happen when it was an embrace? A hand to hold? A…
Min-Gi ran his thumb across his lips, briefly, before hiding his thoughts behind biting his thumbnail.
“…You did.”
It wasn’t until Ryan lifted his head and looked Min-Gi in the eye that he’d realized he’d said something.
Urgently, he averted his eyes. “I-I just mean… We met. Maybe it wasn’t as early as we could have if we met at school, but we met. It’s not like we ran out of time.”
Ryan stayed quiet.
“Like, sure—” Min-Gi, anxious, started to ramble. “Okay, maybe we could have grown up together, playing music in the back yard and driving our parents nuts, and maybe we could have made a million memories together. Maybe all your memories of home wouldn’t suck so much because someone who didn’t care if you were gay or not was there, and maybe all my memories of home wouldn’t have been so lonely, but we can’t go back and change that now. What we can change is what’s happening right now, and…and we already have, so, I mean…don’t worry about it.”
Ryan snapped the yearbook shut.
“You know what? Yeah.” The bed creaked as he climbed to his feet. “You’re right. Fuck the past. We have an entire future together. And no one—not my parents or your parents or some creepy guy in a robot—is gonna take you away from me.”
Min-Gi’s heart stuttered, warm and thrilled and terrified. He couldn’t remember anyone, with that much conviction, telling him he wanted to be in his life before.
“But I mean, aren’t you…?” Min-Gi swallowed, hard, thinking about how little time they really had left. “Didn’t you just say last night—?”
He lifted his head to find Ryan standing above him, looming, almost scary from how serious he was. Almost, but not quite; it was hard to be afraid of someone with tears in their eyes.
Ryan sniffed. His glasses clacked, plastic on plastic, as he reached underneath them to wipe his eyes with his thumb and fingers.
Then he descended, arms open like an owl on the hunt. Before Min-Gi could catch his breath, Ryan was wrapped around him, warm and clinging and just gentle enough not to hurt his back.
“Sorry for phrasing it this way after what we were just talking about, but where the hell have you been all my life?”
“Uh.” Min-Gi set a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. He’d never stop blushing at this rate. “Apparently, right next to you in math.”
Ryan giggled, helplessly, almost hysterically, seemingly unable to stop even as he pressed his face into the side of Min-Gi’s neck. “Fuck you, man…” He tightened his grip, inching impossibly closer, climbing over Min-Gi’s legs. “Fuck you.”
Min-Gi averted his eyes. He’d never heard a “fuck you” that sounded so close to an “I love you so goddamn much, bro” in his entire life. But he didn’t hate it. “Yeah, well… Fuck you, too.”
Ryan laughed. This time, it sounded like a sob.
Min found his hand sliding into the ends of Ryan’s long hair. He should have pulled it right back out, but… “Okay, seriously, I have to— I mean, weren’t you just telling me last night that you don’t like being tied down? That you couldn’t do the apartment thing even if you wanted to? How the hell do you go from being in the process of leaving to swearing you’re never going to leave in a day?”
“You don’t get it,” said Ryan.
“Get what?” asked Min-Gi.
Ryan pulled back, out of the hug, tear tracks shining on his cheeks. Wet speckles on his glasses decorating the smudges from Min-Gi’s neck. Apparently bothered by the way it impacted his vision, Ryan raised his glasses to the crown of his head, pinning his bangs back with them in the process, rather than bothering to clean them. He must have been close to Min-Gi’s face to see it without his glasses because he didn’t squint and his eyes didn’t glaze over like he couldn’t see and couldn’t be arsed to fix that. He just…looked into Min’s eyes like the space between them didn’t matter anymore, like his dark brown eyes pierced into Min-Gi’s soul, carried there by a wormhole.
He was close. Close enough that Min-Gi could smell the toothpaste on his breath. And god, his breath must have smelled terrible, but for some reason, Ryan didn’t flinch away. He just kept looking into Min-Gi’s eyes, their noses almost near enough to touch, paralyzing Min-Gi, sticking him to the floor like static cling.
“We knew each other when we were kids,” said Ryan. “We’ve known each other forever. We were so inseparable that someone tried to, I don’t know, change fate to make it so we never met, and it didn’t work.”
Min-Gi swallowed, hard. “...A-Allegedly.”
“Humor me.” Ryan’s hands slid up Min’s back, up his neck, to his cheeks, where he could hold his face. “Please, Min, for five seconds. You can stop believing me after this, but for once, stop being so smart and just listen to me. Okay?”
Min-Gi wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore. It was hard to tell.
“We’ve been together this whole time, and it worked.” Ryan tipped his face forward until his forehead met Min-Gi’s. “Something… Something about you is different. Or something about us. I don’t know what it is, or how it works, but if even someone deliberately trying to pull us apart couldn’t do it, that means something. So, from now on, if you’re not going anywhere, neither am I. Not unless you’re coming with me. You…” Ryan licked his lips. “...You stuck with me.” He swept his thumbs across Min-Gi’s cheeks. “So…now you’re stuck with me.”
He smiled, teary, benignly, blissfully unaware of the goosebumps crawling under Min-Gi’s bandages, across the arms behind Ryan’s back, out of his sight. Since when was he so sincere?
“Oh,” whispered Min-Gi, as if those words weren’t something he’d been begging to hear since he was old enough to walk, as if they hadn’t just been said by someone who made earthquakes jealous of his heart. “…Okay.”
Ryan laughed breathlessly, less than an inch from Min-Gi’s lips. “Okay.”
Then he pulled back, fixed his glasses, and climbed off Min-Gi’s lap, like nothing had happened at all.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get dressed. Unless you need help with—?”
“No!” squeaked Min-Gi. “No, no, I’m, uh, I’m good.”
“All right, cool.” Ryan shot him a grin. “So I guess I’ll be in the living room, setting up a comfy-as-hell couch situation so we can watch TV until we puke.”
Where normally Min-Gi would have asked how watching TV was supposed to make them puke, he just sat on his bedroom carpet instead, watching Ryan close the door between them.
And Kez, casual as can be, zipped off the chest of drawers toward the box of doughnuts. “Dude, I thought he’d never leave, y’know what I’m sayin’? I am, like, famished.”
To the soundtrack of Kez gorging herself, Min-Gi leaned back until his spine hit the floor, trying to remember how to breathe.
As self-conscious as he was, it was a damn good thing he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet. Because if he had…
Fuck.
Fuck.
There was no way in hell he could have resisted kissing Ryan. Which pretty definitively answered a question Min thought would take a lot longer to answer.
He covered his face and groaned into his hands.
This is not good. This is really, really not good.