Tastebuds (Specifically Yours)

- three

Calculus is the devil, Mingyu is convinced. "It looks good on your transcript," is what Mingyu tells himself whenever he wants to bang his head off his desk. It's what he's telling himself right now since he's on his way to the library for tutoring.

Seokmin, a very bubbly and kind-hearted blessing, had volunteered to tutor him after Mingyu had actually banged his head off his desk during a test. Mingyu had initially declined, saying that he didn't want to inconvenience anyone, but Seokmin insisted that he needed more extracurricular credits that could be earned from tutoring. So, now, they met in the library after school three times a week, and Seokmin would help Mingyu with Calculus, while Mingyu helped Seokmin with Literature and History. Seokmin was quite literally his life-saver during Pre-Calc the previous year, when Mingyu had decided that dying seemed like a better option than taking his Pre-Calc final. Seokmin tutored the shit out of Mingyu after that, and he managed an 87% on his final, which qualified him to take Calculus the next year. (Mingyu cried when he heard that, but he told Seokmin they were happy tears.)

~

It was nearing 6:30pm when Mingyu began complaining of being fed up with Calc and hangry. One bag of M&M's was not enough to hold him over until 9:00pm. "Seokminnnn," Mingyu groaned for the third time. Seokmin was counting. "Can we pretty please order a pizza or something before I die of math poisoning?" Seokmin snorted before laying a hand on Mingyu's hunched back. "Yes, but it's Wednesday, so you're paying, my young padawan." They had developed a system of taking turns paying for food or bringing snacks so neither of them were broke or hungry. Mingyu groaned, and Seokmin smiled, noting groan number four in his head. "Do you want the usual?" Mingyu asked, digging through his bag for his wallet, and counting how much cash he had when he found it. $23.14. Nice. Seokmin hummed as Mingyu dialed the number of the closest pizza place- he had memorized both the number and Seokmin's preferences, but he would never admit it.

"Fifteen minutes." Mingyu mumbled, earning a nod from Seokmin. They went back to their homework, and Seokmin counted two more groans from Mingyu. Ten minutes passed in the quiet library before a small figure came through the door, and took a seat at the table across from Mingyu and Seokmin. The person was obviously male (Mingyu could tell from the lack of hips), and Mingyu vaguely recognized the boy, but he couldn't put a name to the sharp features- seriously, sharp; sharp eyes, sharp bone structure, sharp, sculpted eyebrows, hell, even his lips looked sharp. "Seokmin, who's that?" Mingyu aksed, too curious and frustrated with not being able to remember the boy. "Him?" Seokmin questioned, pointing at the boy, which earned him a scolding, "Pointing is rude, Seok."

"I think his name is Wonwoo," Seokmin said, ignoring Mingyu's pouting face. "He's a year above us. He's the one who always brings snacks to Ceramics." Mingyu despised Ceramics (he could paint and draw, but he could not create pottery), and he vividly remembered every sound in the classroom to drown out the teacher's incessant teasing, "I guess we've found something you aren't good at, Mingyu!" Of course he remembered the crackling of a snack being opened every day at exactly 12:15pm. Mingyu had actually become very suspicious of Wonwoo for awhile because his soulmate tended to eat around the same time. He had even gone as far as sneaking popsicles into the refrigerator in the teacher's lounge. It had earned him no reaction though, so Mingyu quickly dropped the idea and dealt with his friends calling him a "hopeless romantic". It was a shame though, because Wonwoo was stunning, and incredibly smart from what Mingyu understood. "I think he's a friend of Seungcheol's. Why don't you go talk to him?" Seokmin whispered absentmindedly. Both turned their heads at the sound of the door opening again. "It just wasn't meant to be, Seok." Mingyu shrugged. Seokmin only grinned at the other, knowing about the affinity he had with Wonwoo. He wasn't blind; anyone could see that Mingyu was interested in the boy, but he didn't have the courage to actually talk to him.

Seokmin sighed as Mingyu sat the pizza between them. He briefly saw Mingyu's eyes roam his face before he said, "You're thinking too hard again, Seok. You've got a little number eleven on your forehead." He then pressed his thumb between Seokmin's eyebrows, gently massaging the area where he knew Seokmin got headaches most often. Mingyu was such a good person, and it killed Seokmin that he didn't have more friends. He was so gentle and observant, and no one but Seokmin saw that. That thought is what provoked him to open his eyes and ask, "Mingyu, why don't you go ask Wonwoo to join us?" The shock on Mingyu's face almost, almost, made Seokmin coo, because, dammit, Mingyu was one of the most expressive people he had ever met. The shock was quickly replaced with a soft smile, and a whispered,

"Okay."