read me and weep - x.mh
pairing: xu minghao x f!reader rating: R | minors do not interact! 18+ ONLY warnings: best friends/coworkers to lovers, whole lot of yearning, angst, minghao is a stupid man, yn has moments of insecurity regarding her being plus size, SMUT: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), p in v protected sex, missionary, ankle kissing, thigh biting, slight hair pulling. doyoung makes a return appearance as a bartender, small bit of donghyuck x reader. wc: 15.2k synopsis: loosely based in part on a storyline that happens to Penelope Garcia in season 3 of Criminal Minds: Technical Analyst LN YN and FBI Agent Xu Minghao are known in the BAU as a dynamic duo. A duo full of reportable comments, inappropriate nicknames and so much warmth. Anyone with eyes can see that YN is in love with Minghao and it's likely that he's in love with her too. What happens when tensions finally bubble over? When someone else is introduced to the story?
*this fic is a part of the blockbusters collab hosted by @nerdycheol, @belovedgyu and @jakedustry | support the other authors of the collab here
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It's another day in Virginia. The winter this year is biting and you're too happy to scurry inside the BAU office to keep yourself from freezing. Chan, the security guard who always had a smile on his face, wishes you a good morning as you flash your badge at him. As you're waiting for the elevator up to your office, you reminisce about your beginnings at the BAU. Once the hunted, you had been working as a hacker under an alias that eluded this very department years ago. You were untouchable, called the best for a reason. It wasn't until you had a falling out with a network partner that you were in the claws of the department you'd been playing tag with. You remember it clear as day; the flashing red and blues lighting up the walls of your apartment, the cold chill of the interrogation room, and him.
[flashback]
The only sound that could be heard in your apartment was the furious typing coming from your keyboard. The code you had meticulously been working on for the last month all of a sudden wasn't running properly.
"C'mon you rat bastard, where are you hiding," you mutter out. You chewed on your bottom lip, dedicated to find the one piece of syntax ruining what was bound to be a big payout for you.
A month ago, you'd been tagged to do another hit on some confidential FBI files. The network you worked for was made aware by an informant that there were case files being built against the network. Being the resident hacker within the network meant that this task was immediately handed to you. This wasn't your first go at hacking the Federal Bureau of Investigations and you certainly didn't think it was going to be your last. You loved playing tag with the CyberSec department in the Quantico office. Imagining the look of shock when the analysts in their cushy lil offices realize that files were corrupted or missing. For a bunch of highly paid, well-resourced government officials, jobs that involved the FBI felt like taking candy from a baby.
Your search continued, scouring through what felt like endless lines of code, until your phone rang. Taking a look at the Caller ID, a chill ran through your body.
It's an unlisted number. To the ordinary person, it would look like an unknown caller. But not to you. No, you knew this number by heart. You gingerly pressed the answer button.
"YN, a pleasure."
You found it weird that he was using your actual name given everyone in the network typically used an alias. You figured he was in a secure enough location, so you didn't pursue this line of thought any further.
"Jackson. What can I do for you? I'm working right now." Every ounce of you fought to keep your words unwavered. A small chuckle came from the other end of the line.
"Just wanted to check in. Make sure you're holding up your end of the bargain." This caught you off guard.
Jackson was a higher up in your network, always the one doling out your assignments, but never one to double check your work. You'd proven yourself to be irreplaceable in the last three years of working for the Caissa. Why was he asking about this now?
"In the three years I've been doing your work, when have you ever known me to not hold up my end of the deal?" You questioned, a slight edge in your voice.
Even with your "boss" on the line, there was a deadline to meet and your code was still not running properly. Your hand moved to press a button on your phone and you placed Jackson on speakerphone. As the search for the bug resumed, you explained to Jackson that what he wanted should be finished within the next two hours.
"Remind me again, what is it I'm paying you for?" In hindsight, this question should have been ringing the loudest bells in your head. Jackson had the tendency to be aloof and a bit forgetful given he worked with multiple people, but not ever to this degree. But the damn bug making your code not work took up all of your attention.
"What are you talking about Jackson, did you seriously forget that you tasked me to wipe the case files being built against the Caissa? What, did you forget to take your pills today old man?" Another laugh came. It's uneasy but of course you were too wrapped up in fixing the code to notice the difference.
"Jeez Rook, I'm just testing you."
"I think I've outgrown that nickname, don't you Jackson? Was this really all you called me for?" You were getting annoyed now. There was a crunch for this code to be finished and here was your boss actively wasting your time. Again in hindsight this should have tipped you off. There's a bit of noise from the other end of the line before Jackson responds.
"YN?"
"What is it, Jackson?"
"The Grandmaster sends his regards." The mention of the kingpin of your network made your back straighten. Before you could ask what the hell Jackson meant, the line died. Your monitor went next. There wasn't enough time for you to make sense of anything before you heard the sirens surrounding your apartment and your front door being busted open. Everything after this point happened in slow motion, you moved like molasses. Only a few things in your vision were in focus: the reds and blues of cop car lights shining on the poster covered walls of your apartment, the condensation ring from the iced coffee you'd been nursing, a trinket of your favorite animal shattered from the impact of your front door.
You didn't resist any of the officers taking you into their custody. Your mind was otherwise preoccupied. The second your door was cracked down, the puzzle pieces connected: Jackson and the network had cut you loose and turned you in. Racking your brain for any possible reason why, you come up with the conclusion that the feds were getting too close and they cut the newest recruit on the team.
Last one in, first one out.
The interrogation room was bone-chilling and reeked of the worst kind of drip coffee. Agent after agent came in, but your mind couldn't focus. Every time they talked to you it sounded like Charlie Brown's parents were speaking to you. Your entire world had come crashing down. The network that had protected you for so long, had all of a sudden delivered you right to the FBI's front door, the team that had spent the better part of a year trying to track you down.
The door to the interrogation room opened again and you were about to tell the next agent that they were going to waste their time because you weren't going to spill a word. But when you lifted your head, you see him and the air shifts. You feel the static neurons become charged with something you can't quite place.
[end of flashback]
Speak of the devil.
The ding of the elevator doors snaps you out of your recollection and there stands Xu Minghao. The guy, who for a lack of a better explanation, is your knight in shining armor. Minghao was the one that broke through your walls that day in the interrogation room. The one that turned you from hunted to hunter. Every other agent they'd sent in to question you weren't able to hammer away at the walls you'd built, but he did. He walked in, the definition of nonchalance and arrogance. Taking your walls apart brick by brick like it was nothing with cologne that enveloped the whole room and would linger. The same one currently wafting in your nose as he's waving you into the elevator.
"Good morning babygirl," he says, pearly-white teeth shining right into your heart. It has been five years since the day Minghao cut you a deal and your partnership with him and the FBI had started. Five years since he gave you a chance to turn your life around and not rot in prison. Five years since he started calling you that nickname. The nickname that never failed to dust a deep shade of pink across your cheeks.
"Morning, White Rabbit," you chirp out, adding the delicious milk candy to the list of nicknames you have for the profiler. This was your banter, everyone in the office knew it. Everyone in the office was also sick of it. A prime example comes in the form of Dr. Jeon Wonwoo, resident know-it-all. He constantly commented on your relationship; labeling it grossly inappropriate for the office and requesting that it be taken outside of work. Both of your responses to him matching as you stick your tongue out, blowing raspberries at him.
"What's on your mind pretty?" Minghao questions. You wave him off, telling him that you'd been thinking about the day that you first met.
"Was it love at first sight?" He teases. You give him a slight push and tell him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine. The ride up to the office is silent, but it's comfortable. The kind of comfortable you can only get when you've built a relationship with someone. The elevator doors whoosh open signaling that your moment of peace is over and it was time to get to work. You start the short trek to your "cave of darkness", as the rest of the team calls it, but Minghao catches your wrist before you even make it another step.
"Here," he places a coffee cup in your hand, "Honey vanilla latte for the sweetest honey in my life."
There it is again. The blood rushes to your cheeks, covering it with a rosy haze. Minghao is still holding onto your wrist and you're painfully aware of everything happening right now. But you let yourself get lost in the feeling for a bit. Fantasizing that this is more than the usual nice banter between the two of you. That he got you a latte because he was thinking about you at the cafe you both frequent. That he knows your order because he learned it the first time the both of you had been to said cafe and not because you'd made him order it for you a billion times.
Wonwoo, who had been behind the both of you in the elevator, clears his throat to get through and the facade breaks. Minghao gives you a wink, then moves back to let him step between the two of you. Raising the warm coffee cup towards him, you bid Wonwoo goodbye and the two of you make your way down to your office. As you come down the hallway one of the other analysts, Maeve, falls in step with you. Her strong gourmand scent hits you before her greeting does. The three of you talk about recent case loads and what you had been up to the past weekend. She casually jokes that the intense amount of snow should be keeping the streets crime free, but the files coming across the desks say otherwise. Synced laughs of agreement come from you and him. Minghao replies that there isn't enough coffee in the world. Without any real thought, you say,
"Thank God for Minghao. I don't know what I'd do if he didn't get me this coffee." She coos at you, agreeing that it was really nice of him do so, but then she makes a comment that stutters your thoughts.
"God I wish I had a boyfriend that worked with me so I could get personally delivered coffee. You two are so cute together."
"Oh, no-" You begin to stop her.
"It's not like that." You pretend the emphasis Minghao places on the last word doesn't sting.
"We're not-"
The two of you stumble over each other to tell your coworker that you aren't dating. When she hears this, there's a look of surprise on her face, but she doesn't say anything else. She's too busy watching the two of you staring at each other, trying to find the hidden conversation in raised brows. You'd never been more thankful in your life to be right in front of your office door. Minghao quietly excuses himself and walks towards the bullpen. While your coworker chats you up, you're still staring at the back of Minghao, noticing how he rubbed the back of his neck as he walked away from the two of you.
"Helloooo? Earth to YN!" Your focus shifts to her hand waving in front of your face. Apologizing to her, you ask her to repeat herself. She talks about needing help on figuring out how to run a code to aggregate the encrypted files your team has been getting with the caseload. You relax, this is an easy task, you could write code in your sleep, this was something that won't distract you. Asking her for more metrics, your eyes light up at the chance to talk about coding â the only thing that has kept you alive all these years. As you're going over proper formatting syntax, she makes a silly joke that for some reason really just hit you, so you find yourself doubled over in laughter.
What you don't notice is that your coworker makes sudden eye contact with Minghao, who perks up and whips his head towards your direction at the sound of your laughter. You couldn't see it, but his gaze brims with adoration. The mere sound of your laugh, infectious, getting the corners of his lips to tug up. Maeve gives Minghao a questioning smirk, he then stutters and forces himself back into the conversation with Wonwoo. She continues your conversation by asking how to run newly written code without ruining encrypted files.
You lift yourself back up and continue your explanation of performing test runs on old files to Maeve. As you do so, you feel the air change and something in you tells your brain to look beyond Maeve. Cocking your head to the side, you see that Minghao has Wonwoo in a headlock. You try to hide your smile, but fail as Maeve traces your sight line. She shakes her head and jokes that it's really hard to believe that the two of you aren't together, with the way you steal glances like lovesick puppies. Suddenly, Minghao looks up and you immediately move your head back to its original position, not wanting him to catch you staring. Maeve watches this exchange with the biggest smirk on her face. Thanking you for the advice on writing code, she walks away to her office muttering something that you couldn't make out.
As you settle into your office, a sigh pushes through your entire body. Minghao's comment and gesture sticks with you for the rest of the day, the drink actually making it all the way home with you. Spending what others would diagnose as an "unhealthy" amount of time staring at the coffee cup, trying to will the fantasy in your head to life. So many things are swimming around in your mind right now. As you get lost in writing code, Minghao's question of love at first sight is ringing in your ears. You were telling the truth, you found him incredibly annoying at first. Your first month he did nothing but gloat that he was the one to bring you in; that if it wasn't for him there wouldn't be progress on the Caissa file. But something changed in the years of you working together and you're left remembering when exactly it was that he completely broke your heart open for him.
[flashback]
It's your first winter in Virginia. Adjusting to the non-criminal life has been easier than you expected. Who knew you could breathe easier when not working for the digital underworld and not having to look over your shoulder all the time. Regular civilian life wasn't something you steadily had access to in your formative years and you're finding yourself mourning that younger version of you.
Idyllic. Not hard. A version of you that didn't have to put up walls yet.
A particularly nasty case made its way to the top of your team's list, leaving you all to work past normal hours. You'd moved out of your office into the bullpen to make sharing information easier. The office is fairly silent, the only symphony playing is the shuffle of papers and the scuffle of your team walking around. You'd been knee deep in assembling a list of victim profiles to help look for the unsub's MO. You fired off a couple lines of code that you think will help you narrow something down, only to be hit with a big red flashing "ERROR". You slam your laptop down and exhale in frustration, the sound of it drawing everyone's eyes on you. You feel his eyes before you could see them. Flashing everyone a quick smile of apology, you excuse yourself to take a lap around and get a breather.
You stop by your office to grab your water bottle and on your way out you see Minghao. He smirks when he makes eye contact and you immediately brace yourself for whatever smart ass comment he had waiting for you.
"Taking a break already? Wouldn't have pegged you as the quitting type," he jokes. You mockingly laugh back and roll your eyes. The two of you were a duo that no one ever expected. You'd find this out much later, but there were bets going around the office for how long Minghao would last before you ripped his head off. You and Minghao got the last laugh as the two of you gelled together after you dished his smugness back to him. Fairly soon after, you became the insufferable duo that everyone was familiar with.
The two of you finish a lap around the office in complete sync, quietly returning to the makeshift workstation that was set up in the bullpen. You stretch your neck out before sitting back down to read over the case files in the hopes that you could pinpoint parameters that would get your team closer to solving this case. Line after line swims through your brain and nothing seems to stick. It's like suddenly all the ridges in your brain have disappeared and the receptors have melted.
Behind you, you hear someone yell that they're going on a coffee run, then you feel a tap on your elbow. Turning your head, you see Minghao with a questioning look in his eye. Without a word, you knew exactly what he was asking.
Want a coffee?
You immediately shake your head no, not wanting to deal with the effects of caffeine later. He gives you a curt nod and calls out to the person leaving the office to wait for him. He brushes behind you and you catch a whiff of him â sandalwood and something smoky â he smells like comfort. The scent of him lingers around you like an unspoken message from him:
Be back soon.
For the hundredth time, you turn your eyes back to the files hoping that this time you wouldn't come up empty. Taking a breath, you repeat a silent prayer in your head, one that wishes you are able to find anything that could help. Three folders of files later, you feel Minghao sliding into the seat next to you. You don't have to look up from the mountain of paper to know it's him. You just do.
As you're flipping over to the next page, you sense something warm near your left hand. You move your hand to find the source of heat and see that Minghao has placed a cup next to you. The logo of the coffee shop from down the street adorns the cupsleeve. Acknowledging him with a nod, you wrap both your hands around the cup and bring it in front of you.
I didn't ask for this. You say with a raise of your brow.
I know. He shrugs in response.
Drawing the cup to your mouth, the sweet scent of honey and vanilla fills the space around you as you blow on it. You were expecting the strong bitter aroma of coffee to invade your nose so when you smell the indicators of your regular order, your head whips back to him. You're staring at him with delighted surprise in your eyes. He squeezes your shoulder and shoots the warmest smile when he meets your gaze. You thank him by taking a drink, contently sighing at the sweet taste on your tongue.
When you open your eyes, you find a different pair of eyes staring at you.
"Can I help you, Dr. Jeon?"
"Just observing," he says, his eyes flitting between you and the man beside you.
"Find anything worth sharing?" You muse, tucking your chin on top of your hands.
While flipping through a case file, Wonwoo shakes his head no. You don't believe him for a second, which you make known by giving him a scrutinizing look. But you don't press him any further, opting to return to your work instead.
Minghao suddenly gets up and walks over to the board, presumably to pin something he found.
"He's never brought anyone coffee," Wonwoo says, breaking your concentration. You look at the doctorate in front of you with a deadpan look. One that prompts him to elaborate his point.
He leans forward and in a quiet tone explains that in the time that the two of them have worked together, he's never seen Minghao willingly get anyone coffee. Usually opting to joke that whoever asks has legs and can get the drink themselves. He also guessed by the look of your first sip that Minghao didn't just grab you any coffee, he purposefully got your specific coffee order.
There's a feeling in your stomach you can't place when you hear this. As Wonwoo drones on, you find your gaze naturally moving to where Minghao is. You can only see his back, but you can tell he's concentrating on something from the way his head is slightly tilted.
"And then there's the twin telepathy thing," Wonwoo quips. This breaks your stare.
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh c'mon! The two of you just had a full blown conversation without uttering a single word."
You scoff and wave him off, telling him that it doesn't mean anything. Defending your friendship, you deflect and mock the young doctor. He returns your scoff with his own and leans back in his chair.
To anyone that asked, you would always deny it. You and Minghao, were friends, nothing else. But after Wonwoo's line of questioning, you wonder if he's maybe just named the intense feelings that you've been unable to.
Returning your gaze to Minghao, your head is swimming with the thoughts Wonwoo's seemingly planted. He turns to call out for Wonwoo to join him. Your eyes meet Minghao's and he gives you a smile that makes your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. It's a smile laced with a check in. Like somehow he knows you might not be all there.
And suddenly you realize it.
Fuck.
You like Xu Minghao.
[end of flashback]
A soft knock breaks your mindless (but correct) code writing and you smile as you see Minghao waving through the window. You push the memory from three years ago to the deep recesses of your mind. He pushes the door slightly open and pokes his head in, weary smile following. You know what this look means; it's wheels up for the team, time for them to fly somewhere to solve a case, time for him to leave.
"Hey, I'm heading out. I'll see you soon, yeah?"
"Safe flight, call me for any expert information pulling," you joke as he pulls off from your door.
"There isn't anyone else I would want to call babygirl," he calls out as he jogs to catch up with the rest of the team flying out. You smile watching him bounce away.
Unfortunately for you, that moment was the last time you would physically see Minghao for the next week. This was the norm for the two of you. You hardly ever joined in the field, and to be completely honest you preferred it that way. With your history, you decided (along with some urging from your boss) that it was probably better that you stayed behind for cases.
You do get to talk to him mid-week when an important piece of information comes across your desk.
"Tell me something I wanna hear," he exhales. You can hear the exhaustion and frustration in his voice.
"Anyone ever tell you, you have a great ass? Cause you do," you tease, trying to lighten the mood. Hearing him smile from the other side of the line makes you feel better.
"Tell me something I don't know pretty girl," he jokes back. You boo him, whining that he always spoils your fun.
"Don't make me spank you."
"Mmm, don't tempt me with a good time Agent," you say in a lower tone, feigning seduction. With a click of his tongue, he tells you to quit playing around. You sigh and acquiesce him, sharing that the unsub and his victims had a shared history. Grimacing as you shakily recount horrifying details, you wrap up your information dump with a sigh and a promise that this information would be sent over asap.
"Look up the words hot and magnificent in that magic box of yours and tell me what comes up," you hear the smirk and pride on Minghao's face loud and clear. Luck was on your side today as no one could see the rouge tint splayed across your face and on the tips of your ears.
"Would ya look at that? A picture of me popped up." You replied, emphasizing the p in the last word with a popping sound. Inside you are fighting every nerve in your body.
"You are the love of my life, gorgeous! Good job, see ya when we're back." The click of the line rescues you from having to repsond. Your hand is still wrapped around the receiver as you let out a breath. An involuntary groan comes from you. It's the kind of groan you let out when you know you're absolutely smitten and can't do jack all about it. The silence in your office cloaks you in your own feelings, the next words that come out of your mouth barely break the sound barrier.
"I wish you meant that, Hao."
It wasn't till Friday afternoon that the rest of the team was flying in after wrapping up another horrifying but solved case.
The clock ticks a quarter till five and you shoot a text to your cat-eyed partner in crime, asking him if he needed a round (or more) once he landed. An immediate ping returns with a resounding yes and that he'd head straight to Rummo's. Wrapping up a report, you lock up and head to the elevator to meet with Minghao. The ride down takes longer than you want it to, but the doors finally ding open and you're basically skipping out the exit.
"Have a good weekend YN," Chan smiles at you as he holds the door open for you.
"Thanks Channie! I'll see ya Monday!"
"Rummo's tonight? I didn't see the team come in this morning." You nod back.
"Is tonight the night?" He asks with expectant eyes. While everyone in the office basically knew about the budding relationship between you and Minghao, Chan was the only one who ever said anything to you about it. He was also the only one who knew about how much you truly longed for Minghao. It wasn't like you paraded around declaring your love for the profiler, but anyone who looked hard enough could see it. You cared about Minghao in the way that you didn't about anyone else. Sometimes more than yourself. You shoot Chan a look with a hopeful gleam and he responds back with a thumbs up. The week spent in the office alone (along with a phone call from your mother regarding your love life) had forced you to evaluate your relationship with Minghao. Years of noticing the small things that make him tick. Simply put, after years of yearning for the man who broke you down with a whiff of his cologne, you came to the conclusion that you couldn't bear to wait any longer. You needed him to know how you felt and more importantly how he made you feel.
You send a quick text to him that you'd be at your favorite bar in less than ten minutes. As you're walking past storefronts you check your reflection in the glass. No biggie, you're just confessing your feelings to the most important person in your life and your hair is a tangled mess and the mascara on your eyelashes smudged from the strain of staring at a computer all day. You do your best to smooth down the frizz of your hair and you pray to whatever god above that you can fix yourself up before Minghao spots you.
It's half past five by the time you get to Rummo's and it seems like every other office worker in the vicinity had the same idea because your favorite local bar is packed with people in suits. You thank your lucky stars and make a beeline for the bathroom to fix yourself up. You assess the damage as you take a look at the mirror and you wish you hadn't.
Your top fits a little funny because of how blessed you are in the chest department. Your trousers suddenly feel a bit tight and you tune into how the button seems to dig into your stomach. You try to move your clothes around a bit to make it look more flattering against your shape and notice that the seams of your pants have left imprints on your hips. The movement (and your awful anxiety) have made the tiny bathroom even tinier and you feel like the temperature inside has gotten warmer.
Taking a shallow breath you move on to take a look at your hair but before you can do anything about it, a knock on the door alerts you to someone who had been waiting on you. You push the door open to the bathroom and apologize to the person on the other side and look for Minghao. Your confidence is lower than when you walked in, but you were still determined to tell him how you felt tonight.
The smell of his cologne, hidden behind copious amounts of whiskey, hits you before you even lay your eyes on him. You square your shoulders back, plaster on a smile and clap him on the back when you approach. He turns to you, a tinge of pink dotted across his cheeks and eyes in the shape of crescent moons. A quick glance at the three empty glasses next to him tells you all you need to know â this case was horrific and he needed a break from reality. You don't think you'll get to tell him anything tonight.
"There's my babygirl," he swoons excitedly reaching out to you. Your heart leaps out of your chest and it aches. It kills you to not focus on the inflection behind the "my".
"Hey Haoâ Whoa," you lean forward as he almost falls out of the bar stool. A giggle comes spilling out of him when he wraps his arms around you, pressing his face into your shoulder. You help him sit back upright and he scrambles to remove his jacket from the seat next to him, ushering you to sit next to him. Doyoung, the usual barback who tends to your crew, places a drink in front of you. Thanking him with a nod, you down the drink to match Hao's level of drunkenness. The night is filled with him drunkenly egging you on to drink more and you making sure that he's also drinking water so he doesn't absolutely perish the next day.
Suddenly Minghao, who had previously been slumped over the bar, sits straight up and grabs your face. He brings it close to his and you genuinely are unable to tell if you're currently hallucinating. He pores over your face with a scrutinizing look in his eyes. His gaze lands on your lips and stays for a while. Longer than what is appropriate between two best friends. Two coworkers. Your lips are inches away and the alcohol you've consumed silences the alarm bells going off in your head. You hadn't expected this at all, the second you had seen him downing drinks you quickly pivoted away from the original intention you had tonight. You let your eyes flutter shut and enjoy the warmth of his hands, you also pick up on the scent of whiskey and mint on his breath. There's a ringing in your ears and it isn't the alarm bells of your barely functioning brain. No, it's the ringing that happens when the one person who turns your world upside down is about to kiss you. But the moment never comes.
You open your eyes and find him studying your face. Irises wide (probably from the whiskey) and mapping spots on your face.
"Hao?" You ask as you place one of your hands on his, you're hyper aware of the small jolt of electricity that happens on your cheek when your hands touch.
"Mmm?" He hums, absolute glee hidden behind the smile on his face. You tap the hand on your left cheek, asking him if there was something he needed to tell you.
"You remind me of her." The shape of his eyes still crescent moons, his cheeks even pinker. From the alcohol or the confession you weren't able to tell.
"Hmm?" You say giggly.
"The girl I'm in love withâ you remind me of her." He says like he isn't absolutely shattering your entire world right now.
"Oh." You could only respond in a monosyllabic manner, the entire situation quickly sobering you from your fantasy. You grab his hands and gingerly fold them into his lap.
He giggles to himself at your short response. Your mind is spinning and the three heavy-handed drinks Doyoung poured you certainly weren't helping. It isn't till Minghao waves his hand in your face that you realize he'd asked you a question. You apologize and he asks you again what you think. It felt like an impossible question to answer; your heart was absolutely shattered but as his best friend you needed to at least seem supportive.
"Whoever she is, she's a lucky girl," you respond, the fake smile on your face hurting your jaw.
"You think so?" He asks, blissfully drunk and unaware.
You nod, trying to will the tears in your eyes to not spill. Your barback slides the two of you tall glasses of water and your tab. The time had passed by and the time on the receipt told you that the bar was nearing closing time. Downing your water like a camel, you gear up to play another heartbreaking game of pretend. Quickly you get Minghao to drink his water, slide some cash to Doyoung, and move the drunk cat that is your coworker outside the bar to wait for a cab. Puffs of your breath can be seen against the night sky and the two of you stand close to each other to get some warmth. It doesn't prove to be very effective as shivers run through your body. Perceptive as he is, Minghao wordlessly shrugs his black coat off and threads your arms through the sleeves.
"Hao, what are you doing? Take your coat back. It's below freezing," you say through chattering teeth.
You roll your eyes and start to remove the very warm coat off you. The unmistakable shake of his earrings rings through the air as he hushes you and forces the coat around you again, this time closing the buttons to make sure you stay put. A frustrated sigh comes from you, made evident by the puff of steam flowing in front of you. You silently thank him with a swift nod of your head. Some minutes tick by and suddenly you feel a cold hand slip into the pocket and close over your balled up fist.
A hollow ache is forming in your chest. Your hand instinctively unfurls and the second it does, Minghao threads his fingers through yours. Wetness pools around the rim of your eyes when you feel the shape of figure eights rubbing against the back of your hand. Silently, you thank the cold weather as you sniffle the tears back. If he noticed what was wrong, you could immediately blame it on the chill. You stare up at the sky, hoping to find something that could distract you from your wailing thoughts. But you're met with nothing, not a single star in sight. Not a constellation in the sky to use as small talk. So you stand and let your heart ache, because this might be the last time you have a moment like this with him.
You're also trying to make sure Minghao doesn't crumple to the floor. He whines telling you that he's tired of standing and he clings onto you like a koala, telling you that you felt like a plush radiator. You blow off his comment and wave down the bright yellow cab who had just dropped off someone down the street. With as much strength you can muster you push Minghao into the cab and give directions to the driver to his place.
"Wait, you're not coming with me?" He pouts, hanging his head out the window.
You hated yourself for how much you wanted to still kiss him. Shaking your head no, you tell him you'll see him later. He pouts some more and even whines a little, making your heart swell and ache simultaneously. You tilt his head up a little and drill into him that he needs to drink water when he gets home. He gives you a little salute and slumps his back in his seat. The cab begins to drive away and you wave even though you know Minghao can't see you. Suddenly he sticks his head out the window again and yells at you.
"Don't tell the girl at work that I'm in love with her!" And just like that Xu Minghao shatters your heart for the second time.
Saturdays are reserved for shitty movies and wasting away at your place. In the last year, Minghao has been a welcome addition to your long standing tradition, but you wake up today (still slightly hungover) remembering every single thing that happened last night and can't bear the thought of seeing him. You send him a text that you aren't feeling well and need to just sleep the nausea and hangover away. It wasn't completely a lie, you genuinely did have a hangover and you felt sick to your stomach at his confession. The confession that broke your heart and had you questioning your own self worth. Who were you kidding, no guy like Minghao could have ever been into you. He could have his pick of girls, so of course he was pining for someone else. You mostly felt so dumb that you even held the fantasy for so long. Minghao doesn't reply back right away, you assume he's probably still asleep and decide that a small nap might help you feel better.
You wake up to the sound of knocking at your front door and grumble, throwing the blanket over your head, hoping that whoever is at your door will just go away. You're not expecting any guests so you definitely were not getting up for anyone right now. Unfortunately, your attempt to ignore them does not work as the knocking gets louder and more aggressive. Throwing your blanket around you, you groan and stomp to your front door. The knocking keeps going and you finally swing your door open, ready to yell at whoever is fucking disturbing your peace right now.
"Jesus Christ! What do you waâ Minghao? What the fuck?!"
"Me what the fuck? I think I should be saying that to you. It's Saturday, our day remember?" You wince at the decibel he's at. Shooting him a glare with the force of a thousand daggers, you whip out your phone and show him the text of you canceling.
He sticks his tongue out and pushes into your apartment, blabbering about how you couldn't let a couple drinks interrupt the tradition. A trail of his things follow behind him as he makes himself completely at home on your couch. He spots his coat from the night before and jokes that he wondered where it ended up. Your nose scrunches up in annoyance and you can't find it within yourself to pretend to be fine with him being here. One by one you pick up his things and launch them at him, each landing getting a complaint. You coldly tell him to take his things and leave.
"Haha very funny babygirl. C'mon," he pats the spot next to him, "It's movie time. I'm thinking comedy because you're being so gru-"
"Minghao. I'm not kidding. I don't feel good, I'm going back to bed, please take your shit and go home."
You don't even wait for a response, you quickly spin on your heel and head back to your room. You don't even have it in you to close the door on him, you just slip back into your bed. Burying yourself under the covers, the tears in your eyes are hot and you try to blink them back. It isn't until you hear the muffled click of your front door that you let the tears stream down your face, effectively dehydrating you even more.
This year's winter was giving unsubs harsh brutality a run for their money. In the five years since you've lived in Virginia, you'd never felt such an arctic winter. Roads constantly slick with ice, the chill in the air absolutely biting. The only thing rivaling the intensity of this winter was how hard your head had been thinking about your relationship with Minghao. After what you thought would have been the moment, you decided that you couldn't wait forever anymore. You couldn't waste time on the cat-eyed profiler anymore. Knowing he'd had ample time in the years of you working together to say something. The years filled of stolen glances during team debriefs, of flirty comments that would gave HR a heart attack, of him using a nickname reserved only for you. Even on that night, he had the entire night to say something, anything. Instead you were met with a confession that crushed any hope you had as well as your self esteem.
This was the third week of you silently mending the heart he'd unknowingly broken. You could absolutely feel the difference in the interactions, but the profiler for all his ability to read humans, was none the wiser. The list of your names for him continued, but never with the same vibrancy you'd always envelope them in. You were facing a silent fight, the only person who only noticed your off kilter demeanor, was Chan. The first week of your moping he initially let you be, only ever giving a skeptic raise of his brow when you'd brush off his comments regarding your well-being. By the second week, he knew you'd been lying and figuratively backed you into a corner.
You had been drowning in case files and your eyes were starting to dry out. You make your way out of your office and to the bathroom on your floor, but you sharply make a right towards the elevator when you see Minghao heading in the same direction. The door is about to close and you call out to the group to hold the doors open for you. In your absolute panic, you don't realize how loud your voice was. What you also miss when you push yourself into the elevator is Minghao frantically searching for you across the office when he heard you.
You make your way to the back of the elevator and pinch the bridge of your nose as you lean your head back against the wall. Your eyes are closed for the entire ride and it's only when the automated voice of the elevator bell announces the floor, that you realized you took the elevator all the way down to the main lobby. Remembering what your actual purpose of leaving the office was, you make a beeline for the bathroom. You weren't explicitly avoiding Chan, but you knew you couldn't hold out much longer until you cracked under his constant questions.
On your way out from the restroom, you hear a sharp whistle come from behind. Whipping your head around, you see Chan waving you over. Timidly you walk over. You know that he's going to ask what's up with you, so you mentally prepare your responses on your way to him. Sure enough his first question after greeting each other is why you aren't your normal bubbly self. You lie and say that you haven't been feeling well, which he immediately clocks, urging you to not lie to him.
"Come on sweetheart. I haven't seen the two of you walk in together in weeks, almost a month. And if I'm noticing it, it's only a matter of time before everyone else in the office notices it too."
You say nothing and just look at him with pleading eyes, trying to communicate that you don't really feel like talking about this. But of course he doesn't see it or he adamantly ignores it because he presses you even further. Arguing that he definitely knows something is wrong because he hasn't heard a complaint from Dr. Jeon about the out of line comments that are always coming from the two of you.
"Seriously seeing his face scrunch up at the two of you is the only real bit of entertainment I get around here. So spill it sweetheart, what the heck happened at Rummo's?"
You don't know if it's his persistence, the threat that your multi-doctorate coworker would eventually put the pieces together, or the idea that you were tired of holding everything in, but you give in and run down the details of that heartbreaking Friday night. You don't even notice that you're speaking in hushed tones until Chan leans in closer and asks you to repeat certain parts of the story. As you move along the details, you notice his shoulders visibly lower, like he's physically taking the weight of your pain. When you finish, you're full on silently crying and the first thing he does is fish a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket. The whimsical dinosaur print makes you giggle and he tells you that it belongs to his kid. You look at him incredulously, you were not prepared for this lore drop about your favored security guard.
"You have a kid?!"
"You're not the only one with secrets around here," he says with a wink.
You hit him in the arm and beg him to show you pictures. Further prodding him about the fact that he has a kid, leading into the fact that he has a whole family that you didn't know about. He pulls out his wallet and shows you several polaroids of the sweetest little girl. She is the spitting image of him, even in her young age she smiles just as big as her dad. While you're leafing through the pictures, Chan starts to talk about your situation. He comforts you, assuring that your reaction to the whole confession was normal. That the ache you feel is what everyone would feel and comes with the territory. He starts the next sentence, but pauses, chewing on his bottom lip.
"I can tell you're trying to fit a sentence together, what is it Chan?"
"I'm just not 100% convincedâŠ" Your brows knit together in confusion. You stay quiet to signal him to continue his thought. He then asks if you're sure of what he said to you the night at the bar.
"I mean I don't think I'll ever forget him breaking my heart like that," you say solemnly.
"Look sweetheart, I'm not saying I know anything about how he really feelsâŠ"
"But?"
"But I've seen the way you two look at each other. More importantly I've seen the way he looks at you. The way he looks at you isn't the way you look at someone who's just a friend."
"How does he look at me then? If you don't think he looks at me like a friend, then how?" You arms are crossed as you scrutinize him with your eyes.
Chan sighs and takes the pile of polaroids from your hands. You whine in protest. He goes through them one by one, seemingly looking for something specific. He finally lands on the polaroid he's looking for and takes a big pause. You feel him take your hand and he places it face down on your palm. Flipping it over, your heart aches. It's a candid family picture; Chan's wife is cooing at their daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and Chan is off to the side smiling wide. At first glance you'd think he's smiling at his daughter, but at a closer look you can see that the smile isn't for his kid, it's for his wife. He is looking at her with so much love, if he was a cartoon there would pink and red hearts in his eyes.
"That's how he looks at you. The way I look at my wife. You told me what he said that night, I don't know. I just don't believe it."
You let out a huff of disapproval and he throws his hands up in defense, offering that these were only his thoughts. Your shoulders slump back down and you squeeze the bridge of your nose. Chan offers a comforting rub of your shoulder and suggests that maybe it would be good for you to get out of the office for a bit, or at the very least finding a quiet place to let your thoughts run wild so you can come back and focus on your work.
Deciding that the thing you needed to help you clear your head was a warm cup of coffee, you brave the flurry of snow and take a quick walk to your usual cafe, a ten minute walk from the office. As you're wrapping a scarf around yourself, a gust of wind knocks the fabric out of your hand and straight into the face of a person who was heading into same cafe.
"I am so sorry!" You call out, rushing over to the being whose face was currently trapped in your bright yellow scarf.
A muffled laugh comes from behind your scarf, a leather gloved hand bunches it up to pull it away, and what's revealed is the face of an absolutely breathtaking man. His skin glowing like he'd been kissed by the sun, even in this dreary winter. You notice the moles that decorate his golden skin, like stars had placed themselves there. Eyes the color of coal but the coal that still feels warm even after the fire stopped burning. He flashes a smile at you, the kind that that radiates heat in your stomach, one that you're sure could melt all the snow fluttering around you.
"It's alright, honestly it's my fault I walked into your scarf," he chuckles, folding up your scarf, handing it back to you.
He then opens the door to the cafe, gesturing inside. You basically float inside, the flutters in your tummy carrying you in. You walk up to the counter and order your usual â honey vanilla latte. There's something about this drink that just feels like the warmest and most comforting hug. As you pull out your card to pay, you hear someone behind you request a red eye added to that order. The speed at which you whip your head is probably faster than lightning. Ready to lay into the person who thought they could sneak in on your coffee order, you take a breath, but nothing comes out when you realize it's the guy who got a face full of your scarf earlier.
"Oh, it's just you," you say meekly.
"Just me? Ouch, I haven't even given you my name yet," he teases. You feel warmth grace the tips of your ears and cheeks. Chuckling at you, he reaches into his pocket and hands the barista behind you a ten dollar bill. Your eyes go wide, indicating a protest at his action. He shrugs and walks to an empty table, he looks up at you then shifts his gaze to the seat in front of him. After an internal conflict, you figure that a conversation with the cute stranger who just paid for your coffee wouldn't hurt. Thanking him for the coffee, he shrugs and leans back in his seat. He replies that its not a big deal and the two of you begin to talk as you wait for your coffee to be ready.
You learn his name is Donghyuck but most of his friends call him Hyuck. He moved to Virginia from California a couple months ago after picking a random spot on the map. He's a piano teacher to the children in his neighborhood. You jokingly ask if he would extend lessons to adults and he jokes back that you would be the only person he'd consider doing it for. Before you can reply, the barista calls out that your drinks are ready. Beating him to the punch, you pick up both of your drinks and take it back to the table.
Sliding his drink toward him, you circle back to him teaching piano lessons. Your hands touch when he wraps his hand around the cup and it lingers for just a moment. At a simple glance, no one would have noticed it. You do and you fight the smile that begs to come out. Luckily for you, the warm cup of coffee in your hands was a great way to cover it up. You take a small sip and feel yourself melt into the drink.
"Is your drink as sweet as you are?" He says as you put the cup down. It takes everything in you to not choke on the hot liquid. Cheesy lines like this don't typically work on you, but there's something about Donghyuck that just feels true and intentional. After years of pining over someone else, why not allow yourself to be chosen first? Chosen boldly?
As you're about to return the flirty comment, your phone pings. Shooting him an apologetic look, you flip your phone open to see that you've gotten a text from an analyst on your team asking where you were. You looked at the time and realized that you'd been gone for three quarters of an hour.
"Shoot, I'm sorry I have to go back to work," you say, shoving your arms through your coat. Scooting out of your chair you stand up and hurriedly rush towards the door.
"Hold on," he calls out after you. Turning around you notice that he has your scarf in his hand. You reach out your hand to accept it, but instead of handing it to you, he unravels the golden fabric. He wraps the scarf around you and once it's fixed to his liking, he steps back with a smile.
"Perfect."
Your eyes fall to the floor and you feel the prick of heat warming the tips of your ears. He slips something into your hand and you barely catch what he says, too distracted by the gesture. You know it was a question so you nod your head and promptly head out the door. It's not until you're halfway back to the building that you realize he gave you a coffee sleeve with his number written on it. Shaking your head, you laugh to yourself and slide the sleeve into your purse.
You return to the office in an absolute daze. Your steps feel lighter and so does your chest. The ache of Minghao's wreckage still sings, but the volume is currently softened. There's a smile hiding in your cheeks, you zip past security so you can calm yourself down in your office.
"Good morning!" The profiler chirps, coffee in hand.
"Morning." You push past, head down trying to avoid eye contact.
"Hold it," he stops you before you can get too far, "Ease off the gas there Zug."
You freeze.
You hadn't heard that name in years. Five to be exact. And he was the last one to call you that.
The nickname was a reference to your alias when you worked with the Caissa network. The network itself was named after the Greek dryad of chess and every network player had some kind of chess term as an alias. Yours was "Zugzwang" â a term to describe when a player is put at a disadvantage by having to make a move. Appropriate because when you trapped someone into your game any move they made was a losing one. When you were at odds with the government, they fell for the trap every time. But now, because of Minghao, you'd been using your evil genius for good.
"Every day."
"Every day what?"
"Every day I say good morning . Every day you say, 'it is now that I've seen you' or another quirky comment that would make Dr. Jeon turn the color of your sparkle pen. Where have you been?"
Your eyes form into lines as you scrutinize him. Pretending to straightening the ID badge affixed to his shirt pocket, you kiss your teeth with a click. He continues on talking about how he's noticed that you've been passing off delivering case reports and sitting out of team meetings.
"You profilers and your behavioral analysis. You ever take a break?" Inside you're screaming. Now he has the sense to finally notice the difference?!
"If I took a break, who'd catch all the bad guys? 'Fess up pretty."
You roll your eyes and land a soft smack on his shoulder.
"Fine. I met a guy," you admit, a dreamy smile breaking out of the corners of your lips.
For a second there is a look of shock displayed on Minghao's face. He quickly fixes his face, but you definitely notice. You always noticed the small changes, even when you tried not to. You try not to think too much of it as he digs you for more details. You recap the interaction from this morning. Spilling small details about Donghyuck in a dreamy daze. Not forgetting to comment on how handsome and hot you think he is. Twice. There's a beat of silence, a look of pondering etched across his face, before he nods to himself.
"Alright, yeah that happens." He gives you a pat on the shoulder and starts to walk to his office, but you don't miss the purse of his lips.
"Not to me it doesn't." He stops and turns around.
"Come again?"
"Look Hao, let's not kid ourselves. I'm not the kind of girl who turns heads when she walks into a roomâ"
"Babygirlâ"
"No. It's okay. I do well enough on my own. I'm a big girl, literally. I can pull, it just isn't always instantly, y'know? I gotta get them to look past the space I take up first." He hesitates to nod. Another small moment of quiet, the effort of piecing together his next sentence apparent in the crease of his brows. Before he can say anything you beat him to breaking the silence.
"I mean, what do you think Hao?"
"I'd say trust your gut princess. If the guy feels too good to be true, he probably is. Best to move on yeah?"
"Wellâ
Before you can answer, Hyeri the case liaison walks in, arms chock full of files.
"Team brief now. It's bad."
"Clearly."
The two of you follow her into the conference room, something indescribable weighs heavy on your shoulders.
The team debrief makes you feel nauseous. And it's not because of the bloody gruesome details of the latest unsub that Hyeri had briefed the team on. Minghao's words keep ringing in your ear. The rest of the team made their way out to the Florida site and here you were in your office replaying the peculiar conversation the two of you had. You're trying to make sense of his reactions but you're unable to get very far. To ease your mind, you turn to work and get to compiling and cross-referencing the victim list that the team had drawn up with the information the local police department had just sent over.
Knee deep in a list of mugshots, your office phone trills to break your concentration.
"You know who you've reached. Speak," your tone monotonous as you try to continue your focus on your job. Minghao is on the other end asking for an update. You frown at his voice, something that in the past rarely happened. But his comment, along with everything else that transpired between the two of you, were creeping under your skin. The reaction he had to Donghyuck was off and it was beginning to irritate you. Why did he care so much about you meeting a guy, much less a dreamy one like Hyuck? Shouldn't he be whisking away the girl he's supposedly in love with? As he continues to feed you more information, you cut him off telling him you've identified the victims and a locale parameter that the unsub is using as their hunting ground.
"Damn woman, you blow my mind." He whistles, the tone of his voice reading impressed at how fast you were able to narrow things down.
"Yeah, I'm efficient. Gotta go" You quip, not wanting to keep this conversation any longer than it needs to be.
"Whoa, whoa, that's the second time today. No fiery comment? No 'I'll show you what else I can blow'.
"Not today, Minghao." You sigh, rolling your eyes.
"Full government? What's going on?" He never called you by your full name either.
"I'm gonna tell the hot coffee shop guy no. I'm taking your advice, you were right he's probably too good to be true."
"Oh.. Um.. Well that was definitely a smart move." Adds insult to injury by saying there was probably, definitely something wrong with him. Fire starts to run through your veins.
"Huh. Guess that's why they pay you the big bucks." You snort under you breath.
"Come again?" The defensiveness in his voice ignites the fire inside you to roar.
"What was it Minghao? What tipped you off about him? I gave you an ounce of info about him and suddenly you can tell everything about him?!" You're sure that at the decibel you were screamng at, those standing out in the bullpen could hear you.
"Babygirl I-"
"No, humor me for a sec Mr. Profiler, was it how dashingly handsome he was or how interested he was in me that screamed wrong to you?"
"Waitâ"
"Just because YOU wouldn't cross a crowded room to hit on me, doesn't mean that someone elseâ someone less frivolous and not so damn full of themselves wouldn't. You want fiery Xu? How's this: You're a fucking coward."
You slam the receiver down and the dam bursts. You call for one of the other analysts to take over your casework for the day and rush home. As you're heading out, your boss catches you and you quickly tell him to expect a call once you get home explaining why you're leaving midday in the middle of the week. The elevator ride feels like agonizing hours, your anxiety spreading itself like wildfire across your body. You thank every star above that Chan was on his break because you didn't want to face him, mostly because you didn't want to break down at the entrance of your building where you could be perceived. It's only while you're driving home, in the quiet of midday traffic, do you let yourself actually cry. The tears making stoplights and street signs blurs of reds and greens. The rest of the afternoon is spent rotting on your couch, sniffling over the man who caused your heart to splinter.
When you're sure you've cried all the water out of you, you get up to get some water. A chill has landed in your apartment and you resort to wrapping your softest blanket around you. Grabbing your blanket ends up knocking over your purse and its contents spill out onto your carpet. The whine that comes out of you mirrors a petulant child and you kneel down to gather the mess up. When you think that you've returned everything into your purse, you notice a crumpled cupsleeve from the cafe you frequent. You pick it up and head to the kitchen to throw it in the trash, but before you drop into the plastic, you notice the handwriting on the back of it. You get a closer look and see that the mess of scribble is actually Donghyuck's number.
You don't know if it's rage, revenge, or purely just needing a distraction but suddenly you're grabbing your phone and dialing the number. After three rings, the call connects and you hear his smile before his voice.
"Hello?"
"Hi Donghyuck?"
"Ah the girl whose drink matches her voice!" You smile at his words and even giggle a little. You share that work had you pre-occupied (not a lie, but not the truth). The laughter on the other end of the line gives you butterflies.
"Are you free this weekend?" you blurt out. Immediately realizing how sudden it might seem you stutter out, "To pay you b-back for coffee, of course!" Your voice squeaks at the end and you roll your eyes at how pathetic you probably look right now.
"Saturday for dinner work for you gorgeous?"
You bite your lip at the nickname, feeling like you were back in elementary school waiting for your crush to read your note. Telling him that Saturday was perfect, he affirms by telling you he'll pick you up around eight o'clock.
Saturday rolls around and you're getting ready for your date with Donghyuck, but there's a twinge of something wrong in the air. Something in your gut isn't settling well.
Everything reminded you of him.
The outfit you were wearing? The first time you'd worn the ensemble, Minghao had said that the color made your eyes shine like galaxies.
The bangle hanging off your right hand? A present from him after your first year at the BAU. "A celebration â to turning a new leaf", he said as he closed the clasp around your wrist. You unconsciously rub your fingers around the metal band surrounding your forearm. The indentation of your favorite flowers etched in intricate detail, providing a sense of familiarity and emptiness.
The color on your lips, painted the same color the night you two almost kissed. The color he said was downright sinful but made you look like you had been plucked straight from heaven.
The moisture in your eyes isn't apparent until you're staring back at your blurry reflection. The soft ambient lighting in your apartment becomes unclear in the mirror. A groan erupts from the back of your throat as you blink the tears back, not wanting to ruin the makeup you'd spent way too much time on.
You felt him everywhere and it was suffocating. It became loud and clear that your heart still beats for one person and one person only. Your heart takes over your body and you reach for your phone to cancel your plans with Donghyuck. Before you can even press the call icon, a knock on your door startles you.
He's here? Already? You could've sworn that you had agreed on 8 pm and your clock only read quarter past 7. A quick swipe of your phone confirms that there were no new messages from Hyuck. You shrug, assuming that maybe he had just decided to come early. You let out a huff, realizing that the hot guy from the cafe is probably standing outside of your apartment, minutes after you'd come to the earth shattering realization that you were still hung up on the profiler you'd been avoiding for weeks. This was going to be really awkward.
Men and their awful fucking timing.
You grab a sweater to shield yourself from the inevitable chill that opening your front door would allow in. But what awaits you on the other side of your cherry red door isn't something that your sweater could've prepared you for.
"Minghao?"
The tips of his ears and his entire nose as bright as your door. Puffs of his breath coming out in short bursts. His chest was heaving. Did he run over here?
"What are you doing here?" You're staring at him in bewilderment.
It had been a while since you had last been face to face. The last time you'd seen him was the day you told him about Donghyuck. The last time you'd actually spoken to him was during the Florida case. Where he'd unknowingly planted a hurtful comment inside of you. You'd ignored his invite to the bar the day that he returned. The tradition of movie night on Saturdays had been skipped the last couple of weekends, with whatever excuse you could come up with. It took a lot of convincing on your end, but your boss allowed you to sit out on team briefs just so you didn't have to be in the same room as Minghao. One of the things that stayed with you from your past life was the ability to determine who was walking by based only on their tread. This came in especially handy on the days that you couldn't work from home. That skill escaped you in this very moment.
Because here he is. Right outside your apartment.
You say nothing and cross your arms with an air of ignorance.
"You said I wouldn't cross a crowded room to hit on you and you're right." You roll your eyes and start to close the door but he stops it. He pushes the door back open and lets himself into your apartment. Your eyes are wide, staring at his audacity.
"I'd do more." Kicking off his boots, he stalks further into your apartment. The nerve he has to make himself familiar in your sanctuary. What infuriates you further is how devastatingly handsome he looks. Hair the color of onyx, perfectly windswept, the tips of them covered in half melted snowflakes. You can see under his black trench coat, a black ribbed tank, showing off his stupidly perfect collarbones and the small layer of sheen from what you assume is the result of him running to your place.
"What?" The look on your face is a combination of bewilderment and annoyance. Minghao across your living room, huffs out and crosses to you.
He cradles your face then presses his forehead against yours.
"I'm sorry I was a coward."
Seconds that feel like hours pass and he finally kisses you. And of course it's perfect, the kind of kiss that you dream of when kissing the person that holds your entire heart. The perfect clash of passion. The kind of kiss that leaves you wanting more. The kind that leaves the both of you panting as you pull away for air.
"God for a profiler, you were really unable to read me for the longest time."
"I don't use my skills for personal gain, babygirl."
"Maybe you shouldâŠ" The lilt in your voice is teasing.
"You think so?" You flash him a grin, one that's inviting in nature.
"So⊠When you said you'd do more, what did that exactly entail?" You tease, fisting your hands in his tank as you pull him in for another kiss. His hands hadn't left your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as he returns your advance.
There is fire behind both of your lips, you can feel the rawness as the two of you clumsily fight for dominance. Minghao fists a hand in your hair and gently tugs, exposing your neck to him. He trails kisses down to your collarbone, each touch igniting the flame inside your stomach. He's got you pushed up against the wall, placing marks across your chest. Desire is pooling at the apex of your thighs and like moth to a flame, Minghao senses it. His free hands makes its way down your body, down to where you wanted to feel him the most. Pushing up your dress, he dreamily sighs at the sight that beholds him: red mesh underwear that leaves little to the imagination. The minx that he is skirts around your pulsing clit, the tips of his fingers flirting around your bundle of nerves through the thin layer of fabric. You whine against his lips, hips involuntarily pushing into his hand. The sound of his smile against your lips is intoxicating and the smokiness of his rasp is sinful.
"C'mon babygirl, use your words and tell me what you want."
Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he weaponizes his nickname for you. You can't help but whimper when he slides your underwear to the side and makes brief contact with your clit, an unrecognizable pitch coming from you. His lips have returned to your neck and your hands find purchase in his locks.
"Fuck Minghao. Please" You beg. The lack of touch driving you to the brink of insanity. He moves his hands, but in the opposite direction of what you want. A pout forms on your lips and another whine spills past. He pulls you away from the wall and kisses you again, hands roaming, like he was mapping every part of you he wanted to devour. They stop at your ass where he grabs a handful, the groan that follows sending heat straight to your belly. In between lip locks, he lightly taps the backs of your thighs and in a low register laced with sin, commanded
"Jump."
Your body moved faster than your mind, wrapping your legs around his waist. The simple ask sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. He carries you with ease to your bedroom, whose door he kicks open. You tell him this later but this very simple act of carrying you like you were weightless made you want to praise him like a god. Laying you at the edge of your bed, he stands back to drink the sight of you in. What he sees is feminine divine: your hair flowing like you were Aphrodite herself, remnants of your lipstick looking decadent on your lips, the way you're chewing on your bottom lip the very definition of sin. You prop yourself up on your elbows, completely in your head. You, the girl who was often passed over, almost always the second choice, felt the voices of doubt nipping at your skin. Even now as he towers over you, in your bedroom, you're avoiding his gaze and you can feel yourself shrinking.
"Hey, no. None of that pretty," he takes your chin in your hand and focuses your gaze on him. He kisses you, softly, waxing poetic of your beauty in between breaths. You mentally thank your past self for choosing a dress with buttons in the front as he begins to fumble with them. He doesn't get very far and out of frustration rips the front of your dress open, buttons flying in every direction. A sound of protest comes from you, but Minghao is immediately shutting you up by telling you he'll buy you another one. The other thing that shuts you up is his arms as he removes his trench coat. You'd always known his arms were thick, the lines of them defined in the button ups he'd wear to work, but seeing them bare confirmed your beliefs. The stretch of his biceps as he took his tank off making you dizzy.
There was no doubt about the hunger in his eyes as they raked down your body, the smirk forming when he realized that your bra matched your underwear. For a swift second, there's a tinge of darkness in them that chills your spine. The sound that comes from him can be described as nothing but feral when he leans over you and pushes your bra down. A mix of cold air and his warm wet mouth around your nipple makes you hiss. Your hands lock him to your chest and your hips are bucking up into him. His free hand reaches up and two fingers graze your lips and push into your open mouth. You feel Minghao smile against your chest when you swirl your tongue against his fingers. Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he dances a line down to your core, sliding them through your wet folds. The sensation elicits a sound that vibrates through your chest and you buck your hips against his palm, signaling your desire. He picks up on your cue and slides two fingers into you, the sensation stinging in the best way possible.Bucking your hips up into the air with wanton need, you lay a message for him to find in your moans â keep going.
The telepathic connection you two have proves to still be fully functional as he continues his pace. Curling his long, slender fingers into a spot that makes you feel like he's bringing down the stars just for you. Warmth is spreading all over your body, the band in your core beginning to tighten up. Your breath is getting shallower, your moans are barely sounds.
"Let go for me babygirl."
"Let me feel it," He urges and you can't do anything but oblige.
The coil snaps and the pleasure is white-hot. You cry his name out as you squeeze around his fingers. The bliss you feel pushes you to drag his face up to you and capture his lips. You snake a free hand down to his pants and palm his length, a moan coming out when you feel how hard he is. Switching positions, you get yourself on top of him and grind on him to try and cure the ache in your core. He makes space between the two of you and undresses his lower half for you.
You're slightly ashamed for how you drool when his length flops up and smacks against his toned stomach, but that feeling quickly disappears. There's a split second where you pout when you take in how well endowed Minghao is. Mentally whining that he was blessed in every department, you wrap your hand around his length and you hear him grit his teeth. There's a glint in your eye as you shimmy down and take his leaking head in your mouth. It's almost automatic how his hand flies and threads into your scalp. A groan escapes him and that encourages you to take his length even deeper. This action gets him to throw his head back and in turn pulling your hair. The sting from that sends waves of heat to your core.
"Fuck pretty girl, I knew your mouth was filthy but holy fu-" He doesn't finish his sentence because you take him in fully and he hits the back of your throat. You look up at him and the way his face twists in pleasure has you sucking harder. This proves to be enjoyable for him because you feel him trying not to buck his hips up into your mouth.
"Fuck. Fuck baby, hold on. I don't-" You pull off him, a look of worry in your eyes, eyelashes wet from your actions. He instantly assures you that nothing is wrong, he just embarrassingly doesn't want to cum too early. His ears twinge pink and you giggle at him, coming back up and placing a kiss on his nose.
"You have no idea, how longâŠ" he stops himself, but you give his hand a squeeze, telling him you understand. He kisses you lightly and before you two get lost in the heat, he pulls away then pats on your bed. Getting the hint, you climb onto your bed and wait for him. Turning over sits in front of you, drinking in the sight of you once again. There's lust in his eyes, yours too, but there's warmth behind the gaze.
Taking your left leg in his hand, he places a kiss on your ankle. The fire inside you burns brighter. Switching to your right leg, he does the same. There's hunger that radiates off him as he gets to your thigh and lands a big bite. He sucks at a spot close to where you ache for him the most. Pulling his hair in response, but he toys with you further and continues to bite and leave marks all over your thighs. He continues peppering kisses up along your body, maneuvering himself left and right, until he gets to your face where he places a soft kiss on your lips.
He reaches down to palm himself and the very real fact that the two of you are about to have sex, hits you.
"Wait, Hao," you say softly. He hums in response and you're trying to figure out how to ask for what you want without ruining the mood. In true fashion, Minghao senses your brain running wild and tilts your chin to look up at him.
"Where's your head at pretty?" He brushes your cheek with this thumb. Blushing is the name of the game and you have Olympic gold without even trying. Shyly you express that you haven't been with anyone in a while, which meant that you hadn't been on birth control. Your face is beet red as you're about to ask him for a condom, but he stops you in your tracks.
"Baby, you never have to feel weird about asking me to put on a condom," he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your forehead. He pulls back and looks straight into your eyes,
"Your comfort isn't optional. Ever."
He leans over to where he dropped his pants and fishes out a condom. He slips it on and returns to hover over you. Spreading your legs open with his knee, a sharp inhale comes from him when his eyes drop to your pussy, still glistening and pulsing from earlier. Reaching his hand down, he wraps his hand around himself and plays with your folds. Still sensitive from his fingers, you jump a bit at the contact. After a beat, he slides himself in with ease. Once he's bottomed out, you pull his face to yours to kiss him.
The two of you are a mix of groans as Minghao picks up the pace. One of his hands rolls a nipple in between his finger and thumb. The room feels hot, you feel sweat prickle at the base of your neck and the backs of your knees. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets, toes curling at the height of pleasure he's bringing you to. You're begging him for more with your moans, you can feel your throat beginning to get sore.
When he suddenly slides out of you, you whimper at how empty you feel. The feeling only lasts for a second as he takes your left leg and throws it over his shoulder and sliding right back in. The new angle that he's fucking you with makes you dizzy with pleasure. Broken cries come out of your throat. His right hand grips your hip harshly as he pummels into you. Taking your left leg, he pulls it straight up by the calf and starts kissing your ankle again. The sensation sending fire straight to your core, prompting you to squeeze tightly around him. In reaction he lets out a low growl and nips at your ankle.
"Fuck Mingh-hao. Feels so good!" The room is filled with the noises of him slamming against your pussy and the chorus of your voices ringing out in pleasure. You know your neighbors are gonna hate you, but you quickly stop caring as Minghao continues rutting into you.
He moans against your calf in response, you feel the vibrations in your belly. The pace of his thrusts are starting to slow and you can feel that he's close. Arching your back off the bed, the angle is deeper and kisses the tip of your cervix. You know that you're gonna feel it tomorrow, but this was another thing that future you could worry about. This is Minghao's downfall as the new angle has you squeezing him tighter. Your second orgasm crashes over you and he catches the swell with the ease of a veteran surfer.
"Fu-fu-fuck, baby I'm cumming," he groans as he lets your leg go. You wrap both of your legs around his waist and cradle him as he collapses on top of you and spills into the condom. The two of you stay like this for a few moments, until Minghao slowly pulls out of you. Immediately feeling the sensitivity, you let out a small hiss as he slides out. He peppers your face with kisses to help as he slips the condom off.
After the two of you get cleaned up, you both lay under your sheets â legs tangled, your breaths matching each others, his hand drawing random shapes on your upper arm. The silence that falls over you two is comfortable, but there's something waiting to break the quiet.
"We did this totally backwards," Minghao giggles. You look up at him with wide eyes, a bit in shock with his choice of his words. Realizing that, he immediately presses a kiss to your nose to calm you.
"What I meant was that I would've at least liked to take you on a date first." It was Minghao's turn to blush. You giggle and place a soft kiss on his lips.
"We've never been the kind to go about things the typical way Hao," you quip. The smile he gives you makes your heart sing and swell. It's the type of smile that you'd spend the rest of your life preserving. The kind people fought wars for.
"That's true⊠In that case, wanna be my girlfriend?"
You hit his chest softly and he places his hand over yours. You kiss his hand and you know that he knows the answer to his question.
Yes.
It's a new week of work and you and Minghao walk into the building, hand in hand. Your favorite security guard makes no verbal mention of it when you walk past him, but you do not miss the giant grin plastered on his face as he hands the two of you your badges.
"You get up to anything fun this weekend?" The smugness incredibly evident on his face. You shrug, pretending to be absolutely aloof. In your periphery, you see the tips of Minghao's ears turn pink. Collecting your badges from Chan's hands, you nudge Minghao in the direction of the elevator. Once inside, you let out the laugh you'd been holding in, clutching your your sides. He looks at you like you've grown two heads. You wipe your tears and explain to him that Chan knew about the feelings you'd been harboring for the last five years.
"Chan was probably thinking 'Finally'." You shake your head, chuckling. As soon the two of you step off the elevator, you hear a shriek and suddenly you're pulled away from Minghao. You get wrapped into a tight hug by Hyeri, who sounds absolutely hysterical.
"Hi! What's this for? Don't get me wrong I quite love everything that is happening, but Ri you never hug me." She hits your arm, sniffling, warning you to not joke around.
The rest of the team surrounds you, thanking the heavens that you were alright. You and Minghao share the same questioning look. Your resident boy-genius fills you in by directing your eyes to the TV behind him. Your boss, Agent Choi Seungcheol is leading a press conference. Your eyebrows scrunch in even more confusion and then you read the byline at the bottom of the screen: "Caissa Networks sends clear message to the FBI". Hyeri finally lets you go, her eyes rimmed with red and damp. She continues scolding you for not answering any of her calls over the weekend. She rambles on about the fact that there was a threatening letter left on the doorstep of your boss' door with your name on it.
The bullpen is quiet until Dr. Jeon breaks the silence.
"What did happen to you this weekend?" You shake your head, shifting your eyes to Minghao. Neither of you talked about whether or not you were gonna tell everyone the second you came back to the office. You were both otherwise preoccupied. Before either of you can fumble through some awkward explanation, Seungcheol walks in, the poster boy for stoicism.
"Team meeting. 10 minutes," is all he says as he walks by. Like ducklings following their mother, the rest of the team tails behind him. Wonwoo narrows his eyes at the two of you before following suit. Silence falls between you and Minghao. You can hear the corners of his mouth turning up, ready to interrupt the quiet.
"So⊠You gonna tell the truth and say it was love at first sight?" The smugness is radiating off of him. You roll your eyes and mockingly tell him that he's not funny.
The smile on his face is annoyingly wide, but also dazzling. Not wanting to dignify him with a response, you turn on your heel and walk towards the conference room.
"C'moooon. It's a little bit funny!" He whispers into your ear.
"Pissing me off this early in the morning and in our relationship is not a smart move, Xu." You grumble quietly as you enter the conference room. Minghao's right behind you, sheepish grin as Seungcheol raises his brow at the two of you.
The rest of the meeting is spent trying to keep your focus as Minghao draws circles on your thigh underneath the table. You know it's his special way of apologizing and buttering you up. You make eye contact with Hyeri at some point and from across the table she mouths, "Girlfriend?!" referring to your comment from earlier. A look that says "I'll explain everything later" dances in your eyes and she returns a quick nod. There's a smile hidden behind your eyes, giddy at the memory of Minghao asking you to be his girlfriend.
taglist: @chogiwaw @cherrymayz @lunaxgyu @choco-scoups
a/n: this is my longest fic so far, this was such a labor of love and i am so excited to share it with everyone! this fic would not exist without the beautiful brains behind this collab: luna, rae and izzy â thank you for bringing everyone together and giving us new writers a space to feel comfy and welcomed. to @livmarauder, @luvrung and @belovedgyu thank you for beta reading and helping this fic shine even brighter! a special dedication to my 8stars always! as always rbs are appreciated and rb's with your comments/tags are welcomed ⥠divider cred: @bunnytoppop
