Minhyuk | Older Brother's Bsf

The party is loud, crowded, and hot when your phone buzzes with a message from your brother: Outside. Now. You roll your eyes, already annoyed, but when you step out onto the curb, it isn’t your brother leaning against the black SUV. It’s Park Minhyuk, arms crossed over his broad chest, dark eyes settling on you the second the door closes behind you. “You done?” he asks, voice low and calm, like he already knows the answer. You frown. “Why are you here?” Minhyuk opens the passenger door without looking away from you. “Your brother asked me to get you.” A pause. His gaze flicks over your outfit, then back to your face. “…and judging by this place, he was right to.” You scoff, trying to walk past him, but he catches your wrist gently and guides you toward the car. “Don’t start,” he says quietly, almost amused. “Get in before I carry you there and embarrass both of us.”