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so stupid

Summary:

“His eyes immediately found Minho’s across the field. It was like a k-drama, the way Minho’s wide, surprised eyes took in Jisung’s costumed form as Jisung shyly stared back at him. Jisung could practically hear the swelling instrumental in the background.

Minho didn’t seem to be put off at all by Jisung’s attire as he continued to stare, open-mouthed. If anything, Jisung thought he looked a little awed (though maybe that was just what he wanted to see).

It was perfect.

Or, at least, it was–until Minho got drilled in the stomach by a soccer ball.”

Or: Jisung loses a bet and Minho loses his mind

Notes:

Hello, everyone!! Happy my birthday!! Yes, you read that right—on this very day, 19 whole years ago, I was born into this world, the only one of my siblings to arrive on their due date.

Anyway, to celebrate my first birthday away at college, I wanted to give back to the community that has given me so much the only way I know how—writing gay K-pop fanfiction!! So, here you go!! Enjoy!!

(Also, yes, I do say soccer instead of football—sue me)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“This is so stupid.”

 

Hyunjin tittered. “You lost the bet fair and square, Sungie.” 

 

Jisung huffed as he looked down at himself, swishing his hands along the red and white pleated skirt that stopped at his mid-thigh. The way too tight shell Hyunjin had forced him into matched the skirt in color theme, and had a big, sparkly “YWU” embroidered across the chest. 

 

Jisung grabbed the edge of the shell and pulled it down, hoping it would cover his stomach all the way, but to no avail—no matter how much he pulled, the stupid top always rode up to show a sliver of his tummy (not that he minded that much—his body was his greatest asset, after all—but it was still embarrassing. At least the tight shell made his arms look great).

 

“It’s not like you would win against Felix, either,” Jisung grumbled as he looked back up at the mirror, puffing out his cheeks at his reflection. 

 

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I would never challenge Felix to a video game competition, let alone bet on it,” Hyunjin replied flipently. Jisung glared at the taller’s reflection. When he saw Hyunjin’s phone pointed toward him and heard a shutter sound, he immediately whirled around. 

 

“No taking pictures in the bathroom, Hyunjin!” he complained, crossing his arms over his chest. The reminder that they were in a public bathroom sent a hot wave of embarrassment through him. God, anyone could walk into the bathroom at any minute and see him in his stupid, old cheerleader uniform (well maybe not anyone, since the stadium they were in was technically closed to the public, but anyone on the soccer team could. That would probably be the worst thing in the world, if Jisung were to guess). 

 

Please, you’re fine,” Hyunjin countered, but pocketed his phone anyway. “Besides, I want to remember this moment forever.”

 

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, my embarrassment is your happiness, or whatever Seungmin says. I’m sure you’ll take enough photos and videos to eat up all that extra storage you just bought, but can you at least wait until we get out onto the field?” 

 

Hyunjin held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I hear ya. But, just so you know, I am 100 percent going to be using the videos I take to torment you forever.”

 

“I figured,” he grumbled, once again uselessly pulling the shell down. “God, where the hell is Felix? It’s fucking cold,” he said as he rubbed his arms, trying to sooth his goosebumps. 

 

“You’re fine, you big baby,” Hyunjin said as he hopped up on the counter next to the sink. “You wear sleeveless shirts, like, everyday.”

  

“Not true,” Jisung countered. “I only wear sleeveless shirts when I work out, which I haven’t been doing lately. So, boom.”

 

Pfft. Okay, man. You really showed me,” Hyunjin responded sarcastically, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and randomly scrolling through what looked like Instagram (Jisung wasn't sure–everything was flipped in the reflection). Jisung nodded once, glad Hyunjin got his point. 

 

The sound of the door opening sent a spike of panic though Jisung. He startled, whirling toward the door with a mortified expression contorting his face, his skirt fanning out around his legs. He quickly smoothed the cursed thing down, convinced his entire boxer briefs were visible with every movement. 

 

He prayed to every god he could think of that the person walking through the door wasn’t a member of the soccer team. 

 

Jisung let out a breath of relief as a familiar head of blonde hair popped out from behind the door. “Felix! You scared me!” Jisung complained as Felix slipped into the bathroom. 

 

The freckled boy giggled. “Sorry, Sungie,” he apologized as his eyes raked up and down Jisung’s body. Jisung instinctively covered the little sliver of skin with his arms as Felix whistled appreciatively. “Damn, dude. I figured you would look good in a skirt, but I didn’t think you’d look this good.”

  

“Literally, shut up,” Jisung whined as his cheeks colored, swatting at Felix’s arm as he walked past. “Where are my clothes, loser?” 

  

Felix snorted as he slid his backpack off the shoulders and propped it up on the counter. “Yeah, I’m the loser,” he said as he unzipped his bag. “Here you go.” Felix handed Jisung a small pile of clothing. 

 

“Thanks,” Jisung grumbled as placed the pile on the counter next to the sink. He heard Hyunjin and Felix giggling quietly as he grabbed the black track pants and slipped them on. He cursed under his breath as he shoved the skirt inside his pants, the fabric bunching up uncomfortably and making the area around his crotch look absolutely ridiculous, but it was marginally better than the skirt being in full view, so he would deal with it. 

 

He then grabbed the matching jacket and shrugged it on, zipping it up all the way to his chin before turning to Hyunjin and Felix, who were now done doing whatever they were giggling about before (which was most likely making fun of Jisung. It wasn’t like he could fault them, or anything—if literally anyone else other than himself was in this situation, he would be laughing, too).

 

“Are you ready to go, loverboy?” Hyunjin asked as he slid off the counter. Jisung’s brows creased in confusion as Felix grabbed his bag once more and started heading out of the bathroom. 

 

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘loverboy?’” Jisung asked as he followed Hyunjin who followed Felix (who was the only one who actually knew how to get onto the field). 

 

“Did you seriously forget Minho’s on the team?” Hyunjin casually threw over his shoulder as they walked through the spacious stadium hallways. 

 

Jisung stopped short, his new white sneakers scuffing the concrete floor. 

 

Holy fuck. 

 

He totally forgot Minho was on the soccer team. 

 

“I can’t do this,” he stated, already looking around for an exit. 

 

Fuck. Minho was on the soccer team. Obviously Minho was on the soccer team. Why wouldn’t Minho be on the soccer team? Jisung knew Minho was on the soccer team—how could he just fucking forget?

 

“Whoa, relax, there, Sungie,” Felix attempted to soothe as he laid a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, evidently having realized Jisung was no longer following their little train. 

 

“Relax? Felix, I am 100 percent positive this is about to be the most embarrassing moment of my entire life and Minho is going to be there. How am I supposed to relax? He’s never gonna want to talk to me again! God, I’m gonna be known as the cringy weirdo who impersonated a cheerleader and made a fool of himself in front of the entire soccer team! Who wants to hang out with someone like that?” Jisung exclaimed, tightly gripping the overly-long sleeves of the track jacket. 

 

“Jesus, man, calm down. It’s not that deep,” Hyunjin said as he sucked on the lollipop he had gotten out of god knows where. 

 

Jisung glared at him, though he wasn’t sure it had the intended effect as Hyunjin just stared at him boredly. “It is that deep, actually. You know how I feel about Minho—please don’t act like you don’t know this is a big deal to me.” 

 

Hyunjin stared for a moment more before sighing through his nose. “Fine. I understand, Jisung, but think about this—would you really want to be romantically involved with someone who can’t handle you being embarrassing? I mean, you make a fool of yourself all the time.”

 

Jisung waited for a “but” statement that never came and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Hyunjin did have a point, even if he insulted Jisung in the process—which wasn’t necessary, but it wasn’t like Hyunjin was wrong: Jisung, whether intentionally or not, embarrassed himself left and right almost daily. 

 

But did he really want Lee Minho, star striker of Yellow Wood University’s varsity soccer team, to watch him absolutely crash and burn as the world’s worst fake cheerleader? 

 

Did he have a choice?

 

“C’mon, Sungie,” Felix coaxed gently. “I’ll punch him in the face if he tries to make fun of you.”

 

A laugh forced its way out of Jisung’s mouth unwittingly, his body already feeling lighter at the mental image of little Felix trying to take on a buff, intimidating dude like Minho. 

 

“Hey, don’t laugh,” Felix reprimanded, also giggling quietly as he gently elbowed Jisung in the ribs. “I have a black belt in Taekwondo, remember?” 

 

Jisung shook his head fondly. Of course, he knew Felix had a black belt, but he had tested for it when he was in middle school, and Jisung wasn’t sure how much Felix actually knew anymore. Jisung assumed the blondie could hold his own in a fight if he had to, but Felix was more of a “peace and love” kinda guy, so he doubted Felix would ever end up in a situation where he had to use his old moves. 

 

Or, at least, until now, apparently. 

 

“But, seriously,” Felix continued after he’d sobered from his giggling. “If you really think you can’t do this, we’ll figure out something else. I know Minho means a lot to you—I don’t want to be the reason a potential relationship fails.” 

 

Jisung could see the sincerity shining in Felix’s eyes, clear as day. He knew that if he said the word, Felix wouldn’t push. Hyunjin might have a sarcastic retort or two, but would never pressure Jisung into doing something he truly wasn’t comfortable with. 

 

Jisung wasn’t going to lie—it was tempting. 

 

But, on the other hand, this would hardly be the first time Minho would witness Jisung making an absolute fool out of himself. 

 

Take, for instance, the time Jisung had the brilliant idea of playing beer pong, but with vodka instead of beer, and then proceeded to throw up in the potted plants on the patio after getting absolutely destroyed by Hyunjin and Chan. Minho had had the displeasure of finding Jisung hunched over what turned out to be the elder’s favorite plant that was affectionately named “Ted”—Jisung, of course, had only been filled in on this information after Minho had managed to sober him up considerably by forcing him to drink so much water he had to piss every five minutes. 

 

Jisung had felt nothing short of horrible, but Minho had just laughed it off, saying it was actually pretty funny. Minho had also whispered something that sounded suspiciously along the lines of “I didn’t mind taking care of such a cute guy, either,” under his breath, his words making Jisung feel just as drunk as the ten shots he had taken before had, even if it was just what his drunk brain wanted to hear.  

 

Or, how about when Jisung cut his hand on a tree branch and sat under the offending tree close to breaking down because he had no idea what to do, and his hand hurt and there was blood everywhere and he didn’t even know where to start, until Minho stumbled upon him on his way to his car after dance practice. Minho had been quick to comfort, calmly grabbing the first aid kit he kept in his dance bag (because of course he kept a first aid kit in his dance bag) and assisting Jisung with his injuries. As he dressed Jisung’s wounds, Minho talked idly about how he had gotten his basic first aid certification in high school after he had witnessed a nasty fall on the dance floor. He explained how he felt so helpless as he watched his friend writhe in pain on the ground, and how he never wanted to feel like that ever again, so he immediately signed up for a basic first aid class (Jisung later found out Minho had gotten his CPR certification after his grandmother had had a pretty bad heart attack that landed her in the hospital for a week. This additional info really defined a key difference between the two of them—Minho was definitely a “doer,” whereas Jisung was more of a “panicker,”).

 

Once Jisung’s hand was all cleaned and bandaged, Minho casually handed Jisung his hoodie, saying it would help cover the blood stains on his t-shirt. Jisung had reverently stared at the baby blue piece of fabric for a moment before snapping out of it and pulling it on quickly before Minho could change his mind. Minho had smiled softly and offered to drive Jisung home, and Jisung, in a haze of soft cotton and the scent of Minho’s lavender detergent, almost agreed before remembering he was supposed to meet Hyunjin and Felix for dinner. He mourned the loss of a chance for alone time with Minho, but quickly got over it when Minho just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and said, “Another time, then.”

 

Jisung was quick to agree, and was even more elated when Minho didn’t say anything about getting his hoodie back as he said goodbye and walked off to his car (and if Jisung slept with that hoodie every night until it stopped smelling like Minho, then that was between himself and god).

 

Tldr: Minho wasn’t a stranger to Jisung’s embarrassing moments. Compared to what Minho had already seen, how much worse could watching Jisung flail around in a skirt for two hours be?

 

“No, i-it’s okay,” Jisung said in response to Felix’s suggestion. 

 

“Really?” Felix said doubtfully, his forehead creased in concern. Jisung nodded as he stood up straighter and drew his shoulders back, feigning confidence he definitely didn’t feel. He had to do this—Hyunjin would never let him forget if he didn’t. 

 

Felix still looked unsure, but Hyunjin crunched his lollipop and gently grabbed Felix’s wrist, pulling him away from Jisung and toward the direction they had been heading in before Jisung stopped them. “C’mon, Lix—Jisungie’s a big boy. If he says it’s fine, it’s fine. Now, let’s go! Practice starts in three minutes!” 

 

Felix stared at Jisung for a moment more before hesitantly continuing to lead the other two out to the field. Jisung let out a steadying breath, trying to calm the hurricane of emotions brewing in his stomach. 

 

He’ll be fine. He had to be. 

 

He didn’t let go of his death grip on his sleeves the whole way out of the stadium. 

 

Jisung wasn’t exactly sure how they got there, but suddenly they were standing in front of a big opening, the soccer field just visible through the glare of the sun. It was a beautiful day, perfect for running around a field, or whatever soccer players did during practice. 

 

Felix didn’t hesitate as he led them out onto the field and down the sidelines, toward a familiar figure standing at the center line. Jisung glanced out at the field to see what looked like most, if not all, of the team spread clustered here and there all across the green, some kicking balls back and forth while others chit-chatted. 

 

Like a magnet, Jisung’s eyes naturally found the recognizable line of Minho’s broad back, his bright green, jersey-like shirt making him stand out. He appeared to be talking with Chan and Changbin, two seniors in Jisung’s music production major who served as goalie and left defender for the soccer team, respectively. 

 

Jisung just so happened to forget those two were also on the team. Great—there go his chances of ever working with them like he had dreamed of. They would never want to work with him after this. 

 

“It’s about time you showed up!” Jeongin exclaimed as they got closer. “I was beginning to think you chickened out!”

 

Jisung tore his eyes away from Minho’s back as Jeongin’s voice rang out. The younger held his clipboard up to block the sun, watching as the other three approached. Jisung felt quite scrutinized as he watched Jeongin’s eyes scan up and down his body as if appraising him. 

 

“He almost did,” Felix informed his roommate, almost losing his balance as Hyunjin rushed past him and proceeded to smother Jeongin with “love” (or Hyunjin’s interpretation of it, at least). 

 

“I did not,” Jisung grumbled as Jeongin tried to guard himself from Hyunjin’s attack. Felix looked back at him over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. 

 

Jisung just waved him off—it wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. Innie didn’t even hear him. 

 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Jeongin said, firmly swatting Hyunjin’s hands away. Hyunjin wasn’t deterred from expressing his love for the youngest member of their friend group, however, instead just wrapping his arms around Jeongin from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. Innie rolled his eyes as Hyunjin smiled contentedly before they both simultaneously turned their attention to Jisung. 

 

Unnerving, but whatever. 

 

“Lix hyung filled me in last night, so I won’t extend your embarrassment by forcing you to explain your plan to me, but please, for the love of god, wait until after warm-up to do your little routine. I can’t have you distracting my players from their warm-ups, not right before the big game. Especially with the actual fucking coach out sick,” Jeongin’s explained, almost sounding like he was pleading with Jisung. 

 

Jisung was quick to agree to Jeongin’s terms, knowing full well how much stress the younger was under. 

 

See, Innie had somehow gotten the opportunity to become the soccer team’s manager when the previous manager had quit right after the season had begun. Jeongin had taken the opportunity, because obviously any chance to make money was a good one (plus, according to Jeongin, there were quite a few similarities between elementary school age kids and soccer players, especially when something didn’t go their way, so he said it would be good for his major, too). 

 

What Innie didn’t expect when he accepted the job was to especially become the coach. For one reason or another, the actual coach somehow always found an excuse to either leave practice early or not show up to practice at all, leaving Jeongin on his lonesome to coach a sport he had no experience with. 

 

Jisung had had a front row seat to the absolute train-wreck that led to the first few weeks for the season. Whenever he went to Felix's apartment (which was basically every day), Jisung either witnessed Jeongin furiously studying everything about soccer (which seemed unbearably boring to Jisung, but he digresses), or had to listen to him rant about the “stupid fucking coach, leaving me to fix an unfixable team when I don’t fucking know fucking anything about fucking soccer.” 

 

And, sure, maybe the team was kind of bad. Maybe they ate absolute shit their first few games, but it wasn’t their fault their coach basically abandoned them (why he abandoned them, no one knew for sure. Some figured it was because he had been coaching the soccer team for years with little success, while others thought maybe he was just losing interest. A less significant minority thought the coach had been caught funneling funds into his own account, and that’s why he had dipped [the last theory was posited by Jeongin after he found a few discrepancies in the books, and the “minority” that believed it was literally only Jeongin and Hyunjin, and Hyunjin barely even counted since Jeongin’s could say the earth was flat and he’d believe him]). 

 

And, besides, the team found their footing after the first few games, especially after Jeongin started working with Seungmin, an acquaintance turned co-coach turned friend who knew a fuck ton about sports for some reason (Jisung never understood people like that, but it helped the soccer team, so, whatever).

 

Seungmin and Jeongin turned out to be a damn good pair, because they somehow managed to get the team all the way to the elusive conference game, which hadn’t happened in, like, twenty years, or something. 

 

But that meant that Jeongin was under the most stress he had ever been under, and he didn’t even have Seungmin around to calm him down with his even energy since the sports nerd had to study for an exam and couldn’t make it to practice. The least Jisung could do was wait until after warm-ups to be stupid. 

 

“Are you sure this is actually okay, Innie?” Felix asked, sounding very concerned. “I mean, we don’t want to ruin your chance to win by being too distracting, or anything.”

 

Jeongin huffed out a laugh as he brought his clipboard down and flipped through his papers idly. “It’s fine. The guys could use a moral boost, anyway. It’s been a hard week.”

 

Jisung saw Felix's big smile and knew there was absolutely no way out of this now (not that he tried all that hard to get out of it in the first place). “You should start stretching, Sungie,” Hyunjin suggested, a little shit-eating grin on his face. 

 

Jisung rolled his eyes, shaking his head to flick his fluffy blond hair out of his face. “I already stretched, dumbass. You were literally there.”

 

“Jinnie’s right, Sung,” Felix said in his gentle Felix voice as he turned to face him. “It’s been at least half an hour since you stretched. You should loosen up a bit more before you start your routine.” Felix suddenly narrowed his eyes , poking Jisung’s tit with his little pointer finger. Jisung’s eyes widened. “You did learn a routine, right? Because that was part of the deal.”

 

Yes, Lix, I learned a routine. You think I would do this without a plan? Do you even know me?” Jisung responded, grabbing Felix’s hand with both of his own. Felix nodded once, satisfied. 

 

A sudden, ear-splitting tone shattered the peaceful air of the field. Jisung nearly jumped out of his skin at the tone, dropping Felix’s hand and clutching at his own heart instead. 

 

“Bring it in, boys!” Jeongin yelled, hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound, his whistle swinging on his wrist. 

 

Alright. Game time. Or practice time. Whatever. 

 

Jisung unconsciously moved a little closer to Innie as the entirety of the soccer jogged toward them. It was intimidating, to say the least—most of those guys could probably punt him if they wanted to, and that was not a comforting thought. He just hoped nobody would get too annoyed with his antics later. 

 

Jeongin started going over announcements, or something (Jisung wasn’t sure—he was tuning him out, instead just staring at the turf in front of him). A little pst! caught his attention enough for him to look in the direction it had come from, only to see the man who was at the forefront of his mind staring right at him. 

 

Jisung’s eyes widened, glancing over his shoulder to see if Minho was trying to get someone else’s attention. When he saw that no one else was paying attention to either of them, he turned back to Minho and pointed a disbelieving finger at himself. 

 

Minho smirked, infuriatingly hot, as he nodded at Jisung’s deduction. He minutely beckoned Jisung to come closer. Jisung shuffled over, trying not to be too obvious, but it seemed that the rest of the team and Jisung’s friends were thankfully too caught up in Jeongin’s pep talk to notice. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Minho whispered once he apparently deemed Jisung close enough. Instead of judgemental, he sounded genuinely curious, and maybe even a little excited (though that was probably just Jisung’s mind playing tricks on him).

 

Jisung shifted so he was next to Minho, his body facing toward Innie. “Oh, y’know, thought we would come support the team. Big day tomorrow, and all,” Jisung mumbled. His ears felt like they were in fucking fire—having Minho’s full attention on him made him feel a little queasy. 

 

His stomach settled a bit when Minho smiled that stupid charming smile at him, the one where his eyes crinkled and his bunny teeth were on full display, unabashed. He looked… happy. Very happy. 

 

“That’s awesome. I appreciate the support,” Minho said through his smile. Jisung smiled back hesitantly, forcing his heart to beat at a normal rate instead of pounding its way out of his chest and into Minho’s hands (though Jisung supposed it was already there. Had been for a while).

 

“I’m glad you're here, actually,” Minho began as he slid a bracelet Jisung hadn’t noticed before off his wrist. “Do you mind holding this? I normally take it off before practice and put it with the rest of my stuff, but I forgot and I know that Innie won’t let me go to the locker room for something like that. Do ya mind keeping it safe for me? Promise I’ll come back for it after practice.”

 

Jisung looked down at the bracelet resting in the palm of Minho’s hand, feeling paralyzed.

 

He fucking recognized that bracelet. In fact, he had fucking made that bracelet. 

 

The first time Jisung gathered the courage to go to a Pride club meeting, he hadn’t expected to see Minho there. He hadn’t expected Minho to smile when he saw him, or sit next to him, or strike up a conversation with him. He certainly hadn’t expected Minho to want to pair up with him when they had to make friendship bracelets for their buddy. 

 

But the most surprising part was that, evidently, Minho had kept the slightly ugly rainbow bracelet Jisung had made him. Not only did he keep it, he wore it. And, by the sound of it, he wore it often—often enough to have a “regular” place he put it during soccer practice. 

 

Was this some kind of sick joke? Was Minho indirectly making fun of him? No, he couldn’t be—how would he know Jisung was going to be there today? 

 

He glanced up at Minho’s face—Minho wasn’t that much taller—only a few centimeters—but the height difference never failed to make Jisung melt. Minho looked earnest, like he meant what he was asking. 

 

Well, what could be the harm? It was just holding onto a bracelet—it wasn’t like Minho was asking for his hand in marriage. 

 

“Sure,” Jisung eventually answered, reaching out slowly and taking the bracelet from Minho’s palm. He quickly slipped it into the pocket of his jacket, zipping the pocket up tight to make sure it didn’t fall out. 

 

“Thanks,” Minho whispered, the hand that had been holding the bracelet traveling up to pat Jisung’s head. 

 

Jisung’s face flamed as Minho stroked his hair. What the fuck? What the fuck?

 

He kept his eyes trained on Minho’s grass-stained black and white cleats, unconsciously leaning into Minho’s touch. 

 

“Minho!” a loud voice exclaimed, startling Jisung. He looked up to see Innie staring at the two of them disapprovingly. The rest of the team followed Jeongin’s gaze, countless eyes boring into Jisung. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said?” 

 

“Um, yes?” he said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement. Jisung’s shoulders drew up to his ears as he curled in on himself, beyond embarrassed to have the attention of the full team on him, though Minho’s lingering hand offered some comfort. 

 

Jeongin sighed heavily, making Jisung’s stomach turn. The younger was already under so much stress—why was Jisung making it worse by distracting his players so much? 

 

He took a few small steps away from Minho, causing the older’s hand to flop back to his side. He felt Minho’s eyes on him, but didn’t dare meet them as Jeongin started speaking. 

 

“Fine. I can tell we’re all a little restless today, so why don’t we just get this practice started? Two laps, everyone—except Minho. Since my announcements were so unimportant to you, you get to do three.”

 

The rest of the team chuckled at Minho’s misfortune. “Do the rest of you want three, too?” Jeongin asked. The team shut up then. “That’s what I thought. Start running.”

 

The team took off, slowly starting their jog around the field. Jisung glanced up to see Minho’s back as he followed the crowd. 

 

“What was that about, hmm?” Hyunjin asked conspiratorially, sidling up next to Jisung. 

 

Jisung huffed, embarrassment still sticking uncomfortably inside his chest. “He just wanted me to hold his bracelet,” he answered as he unzipped his pocket and checked that the piece of jewelry was, in fact, still there before he zipped his pocket closed again. 

 

Somewhere to the side, Jeongin scoffed. Jisung ignored him in favor of watching the team continue their laps. They were coming around the bend to pass by their little group on the sidelines. Jisung stepped back so he didn’t get trampled. 

 

He watched the team pass, none of them paying his group any attention, save for Chan—who flashed them a smile—Changbin—who gave a little wave—and Minho—who both smiled widely and waved wildly. 

 

Jisung scoffed at Minho’s antics—how could he make such a goofy gesture look cool?

 

Once the team passed, Jisung decided it was as good a time as any to start stretching. He bent at the waist, carefully stretching his hamstrings. He was a bit awkward—the skirt in his pants kept bunching up even more with his movement as he continued the “cheerleader stretch” routine he had found online. 

 

He continued stretching as the team finished running, bar Minho who still had another lap to do. Jisung giggled softly as Minho flashed him an exasperated face as he passed. The rest of the team jeered and hollered as Minho finished his last lap. 

 

“Alright, boys,” Jeongin said once Minho returned, “passing drills first. Let’s go!” 

 

The team quickly made their way out onto the field, some setting up cones while others grabbed balls from the bag by the goal or stretched a little. Jisung hesitantly finished his own stretching routine, standing back up and looking over at his three friends anxiously. 

 

“Ya ready?” Hyunjin asked, a little irritating smirk painted on his face. Jisung nodded timidly as he looked over at Jeongin, silently asking permission. 

 

The younger rolled his eyes as he scoffed. “Knock yourself out,” he said, turning his attention away from Jisung and toward the soccer team, yelling indistinctly at them as they started their drill. 

 

“Go on, Sungie. Cheer ‘em on,” Hyunjin taunted. He was enjoying this way too much in Jisung’s opinion. 

 

Jisung took a deep breath, centering himself. So what if he made a complete fool of himself? He prided himself on being silly and unserious. This was perfectly in line with his values—he was just wearing a skirt to boot. 

 

He was fine. He was going to be fine. Everything was fine

 

He turned away from the field, too embarrassed to disrobe with all those eyes on him. He then slowly unzipped his jacket off, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the ground. He made a mental reminder to himself to put the jacket and pants in a place he would remember so he could give Minho his bracelet back. 

 

He had finally arrived at the part he’d been dreading. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pants and pushed down, peeling the fabric away from his legs and letting his skirt uncrumple. 

 

He pulled his pants all the way off and dropped them to the ground next to his jacket. He smoothed his skirt down, trying to cover his briefs as much as possible, grateful he had fought tooth-and-nail to not have to wear panties under that stupid costume instead. 

 

He took a deep breath as the warm breeze skimmed across his bare arms and legs. This was definitely the hardest part of this whole thing–just the thought of turning around to see the disgusted faces of the soccer team was enough to send an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

 

I’ll be fine, he said to himself, just as he had every two minutes since he had woken up that morning. I just gotta do this. I have to. Hyunjin will make fun of me if I don't. 

 

That thought was enough to convince him to turn around, but not before he squeezed his eyes shut, too afraid to keep them open.

 

He heard a wolf-whistle next to him–most likely from Hyunjin–along with cheers from Felix. “C’mon, Sungie! Open your eyes!” Hyunjin jeered loudly. 

 

Jisung slowly peeled his eyes open, bracing for whatever awaited him outside the safety of the dark. 

 

His eyes immediately found Minho’s across the field. It was like a k-drama, the way Minho’s wide, surprised eyes took in Jisung’s costumed form as Jisung shyly stared back at him. Jisung could practically hear the swelling instrumental in the background. 

 

Minho didn’t seem to be put off at all by Jisung’s attire as he continued to stare, open-mouthed. If anything, Jisung thought he looked a little awed (though maybe that was just what he wanted to see). 

 

It was perfect.

 

Or, at least, it was–until Minho got drilled in the stomach by a soccer ball.

 

Jisung gasped as Minho dropped to the turf, clutching his stomach. Jisung almost ran across the entire field to go check on him before he remembered his friends who were standing by his side, laughing at poor Minho. His friends would never let him live it down if he abandoned his post to go check on his crush.

 

Thankfully, it seemed like Minho was okay: he got back up quickly with the help of a few teammates, looking no worse for wear (although his hair was a little more untamed than it was before). Jisung gave him a small wave when he looked over at him and was admittedly a bit surprised at the exuberant smile he got in return.

 

Jisung grinned as Minho returned to his drills; maybe this whole cheerleader thing wouldn't be so bad, after all.

 

“Show us what you got, cheer boy!” Hyunjin encouraged, and, as he watched Minho sneak glances at him as he dribbled through cones, he suddenly didn't dread this as much anymore.

 

He started with all the classic cheers he always saw back in highschool when he pretended to care about sports so he could see buff, sweaty guys in their natural habitat. He did feel a little stupid doing all these cheers solo, especially when so many had to do with scoring goals, which was not what the team was practicing then, but he wasn’t nearly as mortified as he thought he was going to be.

 

The members of the team gave him strange looks at first, but they seemed to get into it after their warm-up drills; a few even did the cheers along with him, much to Jeongin’s chagrin. 

 

As crazy as it sounds, he was kind of… enjoying himself. The team didn’t mind his sub-par cheer routine, and he cared less and less about Hyunjin immortalizing this moment on his phone with each time he caught Minho’s eye. 

 

Eventually, the team began doing a scrimmage (Jisung was pretty sure that’s what it was called) and Jisung more-or-less gave up on his predetermined routine. He still cheered widely, but it felt more like he was in the stands at an actual soccer game than on the sidelines during practice. He yelled encouragements, mostly at the team Minho was on, though he did try to include Chan and Changbin when he remembered they existed. It was more than a little difficult when a whole Lee Minho was running across the field, his bright green shirt sticking to his skin and outlining the firm muscle of his chest. 

 

Jisung watched as Minho stole the ball from someone on the opposite team and quickly dribbled it to the other side of the field, his expression focused, determined. Jisung held his breath as Minho’s eyes flitted from the ball to the goal, seemingly calculating how and where he should kick to ensure a goal. 

 

God, Minho looked so hot when he was in his zone. 

 

Jisung unconsciously flinched back when Minho suddenly looked over at him. Jisung’s eyes widened as the soccer player pointed across the field at him, yelling out a barely distinguishable “This one’s for you!” before he kicked the ball past the goalie and directly into the corner of the goal. 

 

Jisung couldn't keep the deep red blush from rising in his cheeks as Minho’s teammates celebrated his flawless goal. 

 

After that, Jisung made sure to cheer extra loud whenever Minho got the ball, just so the older knew he was watching. It seemed to motivate Minho, if his endless goals were anything to go off of. Minho would always look over at Jisung after scoring a goal, and Jisung would thrust his fists into the air in a show of support. Minho would smile at him until the next scrimmage started, when he would transform into the picture of concentration.

 

By the time Jeongin blew his whistle to signal the end of practice, no one but Minho had managed to score a goal. Jisung cheered excitedly as the team jogged over, jumping in place and clapping his hands. Minho smiled at him as he approached, immediately sidling up next to the cheerleader and flicking his sweaty hair out of his eyes as his chest heaved. 

 

“Good job!” Jisung congratulated softly. 

 

Minho didn’t get a chance to respond before Jeongin started speaking. “Good job out there today, boys,” he said. “That was probably the best practice I’ve seen all season. Minho,” he paused to look up over at the mentioned man, “you really kicked ass out there today. I better see that same energy tomorrow.”

 

Minho nodded. “Will do, coach.” 

 

“Good. Now,” Innie said, facing the rest of the team, “get outta here. Make sure you rest up for tomorrow!” 

 

Jisung heard a few stray chuckles from the team as they dispersed, some grabbing their water bottles from the sidelines while others went off to gather the scattered soccer balls.

 

“Um,” Jisung heard from his side. He looked over to see Minho still next to him, fiddling with the hem of his sweat-soaked shirt. “You look, um… wow.” 

 

Jisung flushed as he looked down at himself, once again fruitlessly pulling down his shell. He had more or less forgotten about it during the practice, meaning it had ridden up to reveal almost half of his stomach.

 

“Um, thanks,” Jisung said quietly as he brushed his hands against his skirt. “It was for a dare,” he informed as his feet turned inward, the toes of his white sneakers bumping together. 

 

Wow,” Minho repeated. 

 

Jisung looked back up at him. “Is that all you can say?” he asked, a small smile spreading across his face as he looked at MInho from beneath his lashes.

 

“When you look like that, yes,” Minho responded without hesitation. 

 

Jisung was sure he looked like a tomato at this point, his flush spread all the way down his neck. “Is it really good?” he asked in a small voice as he twisted his fingers together.

 

Yeah,” Minho responded emphatically. Jisung giggled shyly–what a lucky turn of events. He never thought all it would take was wearing a cheerleader costume to get Minho’s attention. If he had known, he probably would've done it a long time ago.

 

“Hey, I gotta change quick,” Minho said, gesturing over his shoulder vaguely. “You’ll still be here when I get back?”

 

“Of course,” Jisung said. “I have to give you your bracelet back, after all. I'm not going anywhere.”

 

Minho smiled brightly at him. “You better be.” He probably meant to sound at least a little threatening, but Jisung only felt comforted that Minho even wanted him around.

 

A giddy little giggle left him as he watched Minho walk backwards across the field, occasionally tripping over his cleats as he kept Jisung in his sight. Jisung waved him off–he had no plans of going anywhere. 

 

Jisung sighed wistfully as Minho finally turned around and jogged off toward the locker rooms–he almost couldn't believe this wasn't a dream. He’d certainly had dreams involving Minho (some he’d shared with his friends, some that were just for him and his right hand), but none of them were this realistic. He pinched himself as Minho disappeared into the tunnel he himself had come out of not two hours ago, just to make sure.

 

Ouch! he thought as he jumped from his little pinch. 

 

Yep. Definitely not dreaming.

 

“I’m impressed, Hannie,” he heard from over his shoulder. He turned around to see Hyunjin looking at him, brows raised in surprise. “I didn't think you had it in you.”

 

Jisung harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm very impressive, thanks for noticing.” 

 

“Yeah, you are!” Felix agreed as he rushed up to Jisung and almost tackled him in a hug. Jisung had to steady himself before he could return the hug. “I don't think anyone would notice if you, uh, borrowed that uniform for a little longer, y’know. A certain someone seemed to really like it.”

 

Jisung spluttered as he pushed Felix away. How could he just say that? “You're nasty,” he admonished as he bent down to pick up his jacket. Felix cackled loudly as Jisung slipped his jacket on, pulling it closed and crossing his arms again. 

 

“Seriously!” Lix exclaimed. “I’ve never seen Minho look at someone like that, and I've known him for years!” 

 

Jisung rolled his eyes to distract from his rapidly coloring cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

 

“I can’t believe you actually managed to pull Minho dressed like that,” Hyunjin said, gesturing up and down Jisung’s body. 

 

“I didn't ‘pull’ anything,” Jisung argued. “Minho’s just nice.”

 

Please, like he wasn't about to bend you over right here,” Hyunjin countered. Jisung choked on spit as he registered Hyunjin’s words.

 

“I’m gonna kill you,” he threatened quietly, pointing at his friend. Hyunjin just smiled innocently.

 

Jisung jumped and squeaked loudly as he felt an arm wrap around his waist. “Why are you going to kill Hyunjin?” Minho asked in his ear. 

 

“No reason!” he exclaimed as he covered his face with his sweater paws. He was mortified: did Minho hear what Hyunjin said? “I, uh, didn't hear you come back.”

 

Minho laughed softly, his tinkling little giggle bringing a smile to Jisung’s face. He felt a hand grab his wrists (yeah, both at the same time) and push them downward. Jisung allowed it, his hands falling away to reveal his face. He was looking right into Minho’s pretty, scrunched eyes and couldn't help but wish he could still hide behind his hands (god, just looking into Minho’s eyes made him flustered. He was so damn whipped).

 

“Don’t hide,” Minho chided. “You're too pretty to hide.” 

 

Okay, what?!?! Jisung was definitely dreaming. Ain't no way the real life Lee Minho just called him pretty.

 

“Have you seen yourself?” he asked, unthinking. 

 

He pursed his lips as Minho laughed again. Jisung noticed the little ahh at the end of his laugh. Cute. 

 

Minho sobered quickly and released Jisung’s wrists only to tangle their fingers together instead. Jisung was pretty sure he was about to combust on the spot.

 

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner with me, maybe? I haven't eaten since, like, one, and I'm starving,” Minho asked as he played with the ring on Jisung’s pointer finger.

 

“Yes!” Jisung responded immediately. “I mean–yeah, sure, whatever.” he tried to play it cool, but he was pretty sure his flushed cheeks and shaking hands gave him away.

 

Minho didn't seem to mind. He just smiled the happiest smile Jisung had ever seen and tugged on Jisung’s hand. “Great! C’mon!” 

 

“Wait!” Jisung said, tugging Minho back toward him. “I have to say goodbye to my…” he looked over his shoulder to see no one, all of his friends gone. On the ground where Felix once was, was a pile of Jisung’s clothes, “friends.”

 

“Or not,” he mumbled, turning back to Minho. “I still have to change before we go anywhere, though.”

 

At that, Minho pouted. “Do you have to? You look amazing.”

 

Jisung was pretty sure his whole entire body was flushed at that point. How this ended so well, he had no idea. 

 

Suddenly, Felix’s earlier words played over in his mind. Surely no one would miss an old uniform, would they? 

 

“Yes, I have to change,” Jisung began. Minho’s pout deepened. “But,” Minho’s pout fell slightly, his eyes brightening as Jisung leaned closer to him, “I’m sure no one would miss this costume for a few days.”

 

A smirk spread across Minho’s face as he wrapped his arms around Jisung’s waist and pulled him closer. “You little vixen,” he playfully admonished. Jisung giggled, turning his face away as his hands landed on Minho’s pecs. “You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?” 

 

“Not if you kill me first,” Jisung laughed, turning his face back toward Minho’s. Jisung could feel Minho's breaths fan across his face, but did nothing to put distance between them. 

 

God, Minho’s eyes were so pretty. Jisung was sure there was more than one undiscovered universe hiding in them, and he couldn't wait to find them.

 

“So, dinner?” Jisung asked after a long moment of silent staring. Minho seemed to snap out of whatever reprieve he had been stuck in as he blinked rapidly, long lashes brushing his cheeks. 

 

“Right. Dinner,” Minho repeated, stepping back slightly but keeping his arms around Jisung. 

 

Jisung smiled at him. “Can you let me go, please? I still have to change.”

 

“Oh,” Minho said, seemingly just now remembering he still had the younger in his grasp. He let his arms drop to his sides, finally releasing Jisung. “Of course. But you better keep that uniform.” 

 

Jisung laughed as Minho narrowed his eyes at him. “Please. With the way you look at me in this getup? I'm never getting rid of it.”

 

It was Minho’s turn to laugh as Jisung turned around and grabbed his abandoned clothing from the turf, a small smile on his face. He made sure to bend down slowly and exaggeratedly, just to tease. From the soft groan he heard from behind himself, he guessed it worked. 

 

“Won’t you come along, hyungie?” he asked as he coyly looked over his shoulder. Minho smirked as he came up to him and wrapped his arms around his waist again, plastering his chest to Jisung’s back.

 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Han Jisung,” he warned as he burrowed into the crook of Jisung’s neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down Jisung’s back. 

 

“More dangerous than soccer?” Jisung joked. He felt Minho huff out a laugh against his neck and smiled. 

 

“Yes, more dangerous than soccer,” Minho said, sounding amused. “Now, let’s go. The pizza place I wanna take you to closes soon.”

 

Jisung couldn't keep the giddy smile off his face as he awkwardly started toward the tunnel, Minho clinging to his back the whole way. 

 

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbled as they entered the opening into the arena. He scrambled for his pocket, unzipping it and quickly pulling out the keepsake he had been entrusted with. 

 

He turned around in Minho’s grasp, presenting the bracelet to him. “Here. God, I almost forgot to give it back.”

 

Minho gently took the bracelet from Jisung only to reach out and slip it back into Jisung’s pocket. He laughed softly at Jisung’s confused noise as he zipped the pocket back up. “Give it back to me after our date, hmm?” Minho said, patting Jisung’s hip. 

 

Jisung couldn’t keep the wide, gummy smile off his face. A date. A real life date with real life Minho. Jisung couldn’t believe it. 

 

Maybe this whole thing wasn’t so stupid, after all.

Notes:

Kudos and comments are appreciated!!

I have a twitter!! @skz_tj!! Before you follow (which you totally should—come say hi!! Ask me any questions you have!!), you should know that I follow a lot of nsfw accounts, so if you’re not of age (18 ) or don’t have your age in your bio, I suggest following my other account, @skz_tj_2!! All the same updates will happen there, but I won’t interact with any nsfw accounts!! Be safe, everyone!!

Until next time!!❤️❤️

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