request: the8 badboy!AU, highschool!AU ; insp. by the 6th prompt here!
a/n: *sweats* after 6 months of not writing a scenario, i am back!!! honestly i got a bit carried away so it’s a bit lengthier than usual, so i hope this makes up for it since this is my first minghao fic :’)
The sound of hurried footsteps and hushed voices outside your bedroom window is what pulls you away from your hour-long studying session. It’s five minutes past midnight and you’re reviewing your notes in preparation for your chemistry test in the morning, but now that your attention is elsewhere, you realize that further cramming will do you no good. You sigh and shut your notebook, stretching your arms behind your back as you get up to see who (or what) could be making such a ruckus outside your house this late.
When you peer outside your window, you barely make out the outlines of three hooded figures running straight for your backyard door. Your eyes widen as you watch them shove it open and run deeper in until they’re out of sight. You freeze in place as panic washes over you because oh my god they’re going to break in and murder me why do I have to be alone tonight out of all nights?
You grab your phone and rush into the master’s bedroom where a window gives the perfect view of your backyard. Creeping closer to the window and peaking through the blinds, you see that the three of them are standing in the middle of your backyard, two of their backs turned to you. The other figure is facing you, but you can’t quite make out their face.
“I don’t know. But it’s best to hide here until we’re sure.”
You sigh in relief. So their intention isn’t to break in.
“Minghao? What do you think?”
Minghao? You squint your eyes as the figure takes off his hood. Even in the darkness, his fiery red hair is visible and your jaw goes slack. Minghao’s in several of your classes, though he hardly shows up for it to feel that way.
“Yeah, let’s just wait here.” He cards a hand through his hair and looks around as if sensing your gaze.
You’re about to step back from the window just in case he sees you, but something in the corner of your eye makes you stop mid-way. Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, you can see that your garden—or what was your garden—has been trampled on. You’ve been tending to that garden for months now, and anger builds within you when you see some of your peonies limp in the soil.
You spin on your heel and down the stairs, clutching your phone in your fist. You make your way over to the living room where the backyard door is, flicking the backyard light on in the process.
You yank the door open and step out, pointing an accusatory finger at the three boys, “Hey!”
The three of them look at you in alarm, but before they can say anything you continue, “Look, I was going to let you guys off for trespassing after you leave and all, but how are you going to repay me for my garden? I’ve been working on it for months! And you,” you point to Minghao, “there’s a chemistry test tomorrow! Did you even know that? Actually, do any of you know how expensive it is to maintain a garden like this? Why my garden? You guys are so careless!”
By now you’re heaving from your mini-rant as the three boys stare at you in shock. You cross your arms. “Well?”
Much to your dismay, one of them has the audacity to laugh. “Come on,” he nudges the one standing next to him. “Let’s get out of here.” He shoves his fists in the pocket of his hoodie and brushes past you like it’s nothing. “Nice pajamas, by the way.”
You blink a few times before looking down at your current attire: a Hello Kitty pajama set you got for Christmas two years ago with fuzzy slide slippers to match. Feeling your face warm, you glare as Offender #2 joins Offender #1′s side.
“Let’s go, Minghao. You have a test to study for, remember?” he snickers.
And then they’re off, leaving the way they entered, not even sparing you a glance. Minghao watches as you sulk over to your garden. You can feel his eyes on you as you kneel down to pick up a crushed peony. “Just go,” you murmur, standing up to walk past him. “Jerks…”
“Hey,” he calls out right before you close the door behind you. “I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“How?” you frown. Even though Minghao’s always had the reputation as the school’s “bad boy”, you never paid attention to such labels. But now that you have a reason to dislike him, you’re starting to believe the rumors. Maybe he truly is just a delinquent who causes needless trouble. “I’ve been growing this garden for mo—”
“For months. Yeah, yeah. You’ve said that already.”
“I’ll find a way. But for now, I have to go.” He pulls his hood over his head and for the first time, looks you in the eye. “It’s ______, right?”
“Huh?” you ask, surprised that he knows your name. He looks at you expectantly and you clear your throat. “I mean, yeah. How’d you know?”
He smirks. “It’s pretty hard not to know the name of teacher’s pet, don’t you think?”
Unsurprisingly, Minghao misses the chemistry test the next day and doesn’t show up to class for the days that follow. You twirl your pencil between your fingers, chin resting on the palm of your other hand. “He’ll make it up to me my ass,” you mutter, remembering the amount of peonies that died at the hands (well, feet, technically) of those three impudent boys.
When class ends, you’re out the door, ready to go home and take a nice nap. With both of your earbuds in, you scroll through the music in your phone until you find a song you like and press play. You walk for five minutes until you feel a tap on your shoulder.
When you turn around, Minghao’s staring down at you. This time, his hair’s dyed a whitish grey that contrasts against his black hoodie.
You pull out your left earbud. “What do you want?”
“Here,” he holds out a mini succulent plant. “We’re even now, right?”
Frowning, you take the succulent from him and eye it. “This is your idea of making it up to me?” You narrow your eyes at him as he shrugs. The succulent is admittedly cute, and as you inspect it more, you notice black ink written on the bottom of the vase. Curious, you tilt it backwards until the words becomes readable.
Pausing, you look up at Minghao, to the succulent, and back at him. “Wait,” you say slowly, realization hitting you. “You stole this?”
You shove it back in his hands and glare, angry at yourself for actually thinking he could be true to his word.
“I got it for you,” he says simply, not understanding why you’re so upset. “You don’t like it?”
You look at him like he’s crazy, but his unwavering stare makes you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Forget it,” you say. “Just put it back where you took it from.” You shove your earbud back in your ear and continue your walk home.
When you open your backpack to do homework later that day, you find the succulent sitting inside the space between your notebooks.
Minghao, for reasons unknown, has become increasingly adamant on compensating you for the garden he and his friends ruined. Last week, he tried giving you a rose before you pointed out that it was clearly plucked from the school’s garden. You figure that it’s a pride thing that drives him to do these things; otherwise, a rebel like him and a straight-A student like you would never have crossed paths again following the incident last month.
Today, it’s a pack of sunflower seeds.
“You know these are for eating, not for growing, right?” you deadpan, looking up at him. “I can see you’re really trying. But what’s done is done, so you can stop feeling indebted to me or whatever.”
Minghao opens his mouth to speak, but you continue before he can, voice much softer this time. “You’re nicer than your other friends. I appreciate it.”
“Nice?” he frowns. “I’m not nice.”
“Then why do you keep doing this?” You purse your lips, clutching the pack of sunflower seeds embarrassedly. “People think you like me. Someone saw you give me the rose last week. You know how fast rumors spread in this school.”
“Let them think what they want,” he counters, expression unreadable. You’ve never felt so vulnerable under someone’s gaze. “Plus, some rumors turn out to be true.”
You feel a blush creep up your neck. “What do you mean?”
Minghao shrugs, feigning cluelessness. “Dunno.”
The words come out before you know it: “Do you like me?” You bite your lip immediately after the words slip out, mentally cursing yourself for asking such a forward and ridiculuous question.
Minghao, however, seems unfazed. “Wanna date?”
You definitely weren’t expecting that. At a loss for words, you can only pray that your face isn’t as red as it feels. Minghao looks amused as your mouth opens and closes as you struggle for a response.
“I don’t date,” you say lamely. “I’m focusing on my studying.”
Minghao quirks a brow. “So no?”
You feel as if your heart rate’s increased tenfold and your mind’s gone blank, and all you can see is Minghao watching you grapple with words like you suddenly forgot how to speak and why in the world isn’t there a class on Dealing With A Minghao 101?
You and Minghao are polar opposites. You study diligently and get good grades, never skip class, and are well-liked among teachers. Minghao’s known for his cold indifference and causing all sorts of mischief outside of school. You’re not very popular, either, so you can’t find any plausible reason as to why Minghao would want to date you.
“I… I don’t know,” you manage to choke out after what feels like an eternity. “I barely even know you.”
“Isn’t that what dating’s for?” For someone so relaxed, he’s strangely persistent.
“I mean,” you start. “We could maybe… study for the upcoming chemistry test together?”
Minghao scoffs and you look away sheepishly.
“What was I expecting,” he mutters. “Fine.”
You’ve never felt so many eyes on you before. It’s a rare sight, so you can’t be too mad at the staring students. Had it not been for your suggestion, Minghao would likely never be seen in the library, let alone with you of all people. There are papers splayed over your shared table, but so far you’re the only doing the actual studying. He’s been staring at you for, you glance at the clock hanging above a shelf of books, the past thirty minutes.
“Minghao,” you sigh, looking up from your notebook. “What’s the difference between molarity and molality?”
“Your nose twitches when you study,” he says plainly.
You give him a pointed look but before you can retort, a smirking figure grabs your attention.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The pretentious Jihoon has his fists in his khaki slacks and his chin up like usual. “______ sharing her smarts with someone? Who would’ve known,” he muses. “Tutoring will only slow you down. We'll see who lands the highest score this time."
“Actually, tutoring shows you’ve mastered the material well enough to teach it,” you roll your eyes. “And I’m not even tutoring him. We’re studying together.”
Jihoon scoffs, grumbling a “whatever” before stalking off.
“Who is that punk?” Minghao asks, eyes still on his retreating figure.
You shake your head, brushing your hair out of your face. “I guess you could call him my rival. He’s been like that since we were in the fifth grade.”
“The competitiveness or the rich kid look?”
Minghao adjusts his baseball cap so that his bangs flatten above his eyes. “Want me to beat him up?”
Your eyes widen as you look up at him. You can’t decide what’s scarier, his threat or the fact that he’s actually serious. “No, don’t do that,” you frantic. “I don’t want you beating anyone up.”
Minghao doesn’t look satisfied with your answer but doesn’t say anything. The next ten minutes are spent in silence, you reading over your notes and doing practice problems while Minghao idly scrolls through his phone. He gets up, sliding his phone into the pocket of his bomber jacket, and tells you that he’s going to the bathroom. You nod without looking up, letting him know you heard him.
"Finally, he left,” you hear someone a few tables away breathe out in relief the moment he’s out of sight. “I was going to leave myself if he didn’t.”
“Dude, same.” His friend shudders. “He’s so scary.”
You try to pay them no mind as you train your attention on your studying, but as they continue their Minghao-slandering you realize that you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over.
“What was he doing here, anyways? He should just go back to his shady business with his gang or something.”
“Tell me about it. And why was ______ with him? He probably threatened her into it.”
You slam your pen on the table. All eyes darting to you, you turn to the two gossipers. “Excuse me, but I’m trying to study,” you force a smile. “So if you could please—”
And what they ask next is all it takes for you to snap.
“______, is everything okay? You’re not feeling ill, are you?”
Feeling the anger coursing through your veins, you stand from your seat, palms laying flat on the table. “What do you two know about Minghao? Have you ever even talked to him?” You don’t care if you’re drawing more attention to yourself as you press on, “You have no right to judge him. He has feelings too, you know. What makes you think that I’d have to be feeling sick to want to be with him? You guys are so judgmental! You guys are such...” you remember what Minghao said earlier, “...punks! You guys are nothing but—”
Alarmed, you turn around to see Minghao standing there with his usual expressionless face. You turn back around consciously and shut your eyes tightly; just how much did he hear? Would he be proud that you stood up for him? Angry that you caused a scene?
Minghao tugs on your wrist, “Come on.”
Wordlessly, you pack up your things, head laying low in shame though you ironically don’t regret a thing. Swinging your backpack over your shoulder, you exit the library after Minghao.
“Um,” you cough, trying to catch up to him, “how much did you hear?”
“All of it,” he says casually, looking down at you. “You like me, don’t you?”
You stop walking and blink up at him. Minghao peers at you over his shoulder and you swear you see stars.
You suck in a breath and, feeling brave, say, “Well, we’re dating, aren’t we?” You rejoin his side and feel proud when you see him looking shocked this time.
But the surprise is quickly replaced by a smirk as he throws his arm over your shoulder.
“Geez, who knew gardening could be this tiring,” Junhui, previously known to you as Offender #1, sighs, wiping away a drop of sweat from his brow.
“Don’t forget expensive,” you remind him, using your hand as a shield from the sun.
“Can we take a break?” Soonyoung (Offender #2) whines, fanning himself. “It’s hot!” He tosses the trowel on the soil and let’s out a groan.
“No stopping, punks,” Minghao scowls, and you can hear Junhui mumble “he’s turned soft” under his breath.
“Hey,” you elbow Minghao, “you should be helping them. You did this too, remember?”
“I tried making it up to you, didn’t I?” he challenges.
You end up shoving Minghao into the soil, but thankfully this time the peonies are unharmed.
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