Fics like icebreaker

“Is the seat next to you taken?” Minho looks up, fixing the round rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, and finds the guy that has clearly become familiar against his will standing there, fingers curled around the strap of his bag. “Ah. Jiwon,” he says. “I suppose this row has enough seats for both of us.” “Jisung,” he corrects, settling down with one chair of respectful distance between them. He sounds amused by the mistake. Minho is just happy they won’t be bumping elbows. “But you can call me anything you want.” Minho’s eyebrows shoot up. “Does that line usually work for you?” “I don’t know,” Jisung laughs, setting his laptop on the desk and pulling out a giant can of an energy drink out of his bag. He pops it open and takes a generous swig. “It’s the first time I’ve ever used it.” (Minho moves to Seoul with one rule at the forefront of his mind: to not give his heart away to a hockey player. Jisung breaks it for him.)

Fics like icebreaker

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