Lacy Euphoria

His Favorite Girl/Part One: The Moment He Notices You

Originally published on AO3.

🔞 Adults 18+. MDNI. Fictional fanwork using names fictitiously for entertainment. Not real, endorsed, affiliated, or a claim of real events. All romantic and sexual content is between consenting adults. Please consume fiction with media literacy intact.

The knock cuts through the quiet room sharply enough to pull both of you out of the warmth settling between you. Mingi’s mouth stills briefly against your shoulder while your entire body tightens before your brain fully catches up. Another knock follows right behind it.

“Mingi-ya.”

Your eyes lift immediately toward the door while his arm stays heavy around your waist like nothing about this moment requires urgency. The calm in him somehow makes your own reaction feel louder.

“You expecting somebody?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah,” he answers without hesitation, voice still rough with sleep. Like this is normal. Like another member knocking on the hotel room door while you’re still tangled in his sheets barely registers as a complication at all.

You push yourself up slightly, suddenly aware of everything all at once. Your shirt somewhere on the floor. The sheets twisted around your legs. The fact that his hand still hasn’t moved from your waist.

“Mingi,” you say more seriously this time.

“I know.”

Another knock lands against the door. “Mingi-ya,” the voice calls again. “Open the door before I start assuming things.”

That finally pulls something dangerously close to amusement onto his face. He drags a hand slowly down his face before sitting up beside you, completely unhurried.

“Oh, he’s already assuming things,” he mutters. Your head turns toward him immediately. “Excuse me?”

Now he actually grins.

Not nervous.

Not guilty.

Just entirely too entertained with himself for somebody currently exposing you to another member before breakfast.

“You think I’m subtle?” he asks while reaching down to grab his sweatpants off the floor.

Honestly?

Fair point.

Still.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, dragging a hand over your face while he steps into the sweats like this conversation isn’t actively shaving years off your life. “You told him about me?”

“I talked about you.”

That lands differently than it should.

Not defensive.

Not dismissive.

Not accidental.

Talked about you.

The room suddenly feels much smaller after that.

Another knock follows, lighter this time, followed by an exaggerated sigh from the other side of the door. “Mingi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he calls back lazily before looking over at you again. “Relax.”

“You relax.”

That earns a real laugh out of him, low and rough from sleep, and you hate how much lighter he looks this morning. Not stage-lighting handsome. Not fanservice smooth. Just relaxed in a way that feels strangely intimate to witness.

“There she is,” he says, still grinning.

“Do not ‘there she is’ me right now.”

That only makes him laugh harder. You narrow your eyes at him while reaching for your shirt off the floor, pulling it back on quickly beneath his entirely unhelpful gaze. Unfortunately for you, trying not to look at Song Mingi in daylight while he’s half dressed is significantly harder than it sounds.

“You’re staring again,” he says casually.

“You’re irritating.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t deny it because he knows he is.

Mingi finally crosses the room and pulls the door open just enough for Seonghwa to step inside carrying a paper bag in one hand and a coffee tray in the other like this entire situation was already mildly expected.

Seonghwa’s eyes land on Mingi first.

Then immediately past him.

To you.

The pause barely lasts a second, but you feel every piece of it. Not shock. Recognition. Like he’s confirming something instead of discovering it.

“Hm,” Seonghwa exhales quietly.

Mingi steps aside enough to let him in before dropping back onto the edge of the bed behind you, completely comfortable now, one arm resting lazily across his knee while he watches the entire interaction unfold like he’s curious what you and Seonghwa are going to think of each other.

“You’re dramatic this early in the morning,” Mingi says.

“You stopped answering your phone,” Seonghwa replies calmly while slipping his shoes off near the door. “Management started asking questions.”

The word management shifts the atmosphere instantly.

Not enough to ruin it, just enough to remind you this is real.

Schedules.

Staff.

Visibility.

Consequences.

Seonghwa notices the shift in your expression immediately too. He moves through the suite with the kind of quiet awareness that makes it obvious he notices far more than you realize.

“You don’t need to panic,” he says evenly while setting the coffees down. “If there was a problem, I wouldn’t be the one here.” That somehow comforts you and stresses you out at the exact same time.

Your eyes follow him a little more carefully after that. Calm. Controlled. Observant enough that you immediately understand why Mingi trusts him.

And maybe why he can’t really hide things from him either.

“So this is her,” Seonghwa says finally, glancing toward you again.

There it is.

Your eyes flick toward Mingi instinctively, but he doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t explain. Doesn’t deny it. Which honestly tells you more than if he had.

You look back at Seonghwa instead and shrug lightly. “Guess so.”

That almost pulls a smile out of him.

Almost.

“I’m Seonghwa.”

You give him your name and he nods once like he’s filing it away somewhere important.

“Nice to finally meet you.”

Finally.

Oh, so Mingi really has been talking.

Your head turns slowly toward him while he immediately notices the look forming on your face from the bed.

“Don’t start,” he says.

“Start what?”

“That look.”

“What look?”

“The one where you realize I’m already gone over you.”

Your mouth falls open slightly while Seonghwa quietly huffs into his coffee like this statement confirms every suspicion he already had.

“You really do talk too much,” you mutter.

Mingi leans back against the headboard afterward looking entirely too satisfied with himself. “You haven’t left yet.”

The answer comes smoother this time. Less like pressure. More like observation.

Seonghwa reaches into the bag before setting one of the coffees toward you. “It’s black,” he says simply. “I brought cream and sugar because neither one of us knows how you take it yet.”

Your brows lift slightly at the honesty of that while Mingi immediately points toward him from the bed.

“See? This is why everybody thinks you’re the normal one.”

Seonghwa doesn’t even look up while unpacking the food. “I am the normal one.”

“That’s actually terrifying.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself, and the sound immediately pulls both of their attention toward you. Mingi’s expression softens almost instantly when he hears it, like he likes making you laugh more than he planned on admitting yet.

The room settles after that in a way you didn’t expect. Not awkward. Not tense. Just strangely real, like this stopped being fantasy sometime during the night and nobody warned you when it happened.

You fix your coffee while Seonghwa starts unpacking food onto the small table near the windows. Mingi eventually pushes himself off the bed and wanders over beside you, still half asleep, still entirely too comfortable, his hand sliding absentmindedly along your lower back while reaching around you for one of the drinks.

The touch is casual.

Natural.

Like he already forgot this isn’t normal for the two of you yet.

And somehow that affects you more than anything else this morning.

Not the sex.

Not the confession.

Not even waking up beside him.

This.

Standing barefoot in his hotel suite while Seonghwa sets breakfast out and Mingi moves around you like your presence already belongs somewhere inside his real life.

That’s the thing that finally makes this feel dangerous.