Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jisung needed a break.

Work was beyond exhausting, and as far as he could tell, he needed a fucking drink. He wasn’t one to go out and party at random times of the night, especially on the weekend where a large crowd of people were surely out at a bar or clubbing their life away, chugging random alcohol and possibly consuming drugs left and right. It wasn’t Jisung’s exact idea of a good time, but being a musician, a struggling one at that, made him really want a bottle of soju.

He lived in an apartment by himself, one that was hardly kept clean and was small enough. The only separation his bedroom had from the living room was a dressing divider, one he found on the side of the road and would suffice enough to offer some privacy when he had company over. It was an affordable living space, one that would get him by before he could live in some sort of lavish mansion or. . . something.

He barely owned enough furniture, especially for someone who had been living there for the past year, it looked like he had barely moved in. Jisung admittedly was a bit frugal and didn’t find the need or want to expand the amount of possessions he had if he were to move out of this hellish apartment within the next few months. But, then again, he’s been telling himself he was going to move out for at least six months already, so, he was stuck in a loop of lying to himself every day.

He had a large desk, one that took up most of the room in his living space, fitted with three computer monitors, a powerful computer tower and a multitude of music equipment. He had a microphone, a keyboard, soundboard, mixing board and a few loose cables from something, but everything he needed to make a song was present. He had a few guitars hung on his wall for display purposes, but every now and then, he indulges himself and plays a few songs to alleviate the stress in his veins.

He wasn’t famous by any means, making barely enough to afford this shitty apartment from his freelance music work and composition skills, mixing and remixing songs over and over again until he can barely keep his eyes open. His diet basically consisted of coffee and take out from the barbeque place down the street, which was enough protein to keep his body alive and kicking.

He had some friends, ones he barely went out with, but he did his best to keep in touch. They had been friends since high school, and he wasn’t one to break promises. He told both of them that he’d keep himself in contact regardless of where they’d end up, making sure to see them at least once a month. Felix and Seungmin were his only friends, moreso the only ones who put up with his bullshit and lack of schedule. They graduated almost five years ago, putting everyone out of college and into the real world, where they all were very much single and working boring nine to fives.

Jisung did his best to keep himself isolated, making music for almost sixteen hours straight some days and other days sleeping until the sun set for the second time. Some would call him lazy, but Jisung refers to his routine as producer magic, claiming that he needs to hibernate until another idea develops in his mind and takes a hold of his heart.

This night in particular, Jisung had worked on his computer passionately for around nine hours before deciding that he needed some sort of a break. It was late August, a lonely Friday night spent staring into a computer monitor and working on the same remixed track he had been stuck on for the last week. His phone was empty of notifications and his mind was incredibly fried. He needed another outlet, at least, just for this one time. He needed to go out into the world and get some fresh air. But, that could also be the smell of his apartment rotting his brain. God, he really needed to clean.

He takes it upon himself to finally text Felix and Seungmin in their shared group chat which, as of late, had remained quiet for more than a couple of days. Everyone was busy, working their boring shifts and making money to live comfortably. But Jisung was bored. He needed his friends more than he ever has, finally deciding he needs more than just a five minute break.

I need to go out. Please say you’ll come with me.

Felix

You’re lucky you found me with no plans.

I’m in.

Seungmin

I guess I’ll go too just because you asked nicely.

I need a drink. Who knows of a good bar around here?

One that isn’t going to be riddled with people either.

Seungmin

I know one. I’ll send you guys the address.

Please don’t be late, Jisung.

Who said I was ever late?

Jisung knew he was usually always late, but he wanted to go out. Surely he wasn’t going to be late. Then again, when he looked down at his clothes and smelled the lack of showering he had done for the week, he might be a little late.

Nevermind. I might be late.

Gotta shower.

Be there in like twenty.

Jisung throws his phone on the couch behind his desk, jumping out of his desk chair and running into the bathroom without another thought.

He’s relatively quick, washing his hair and putting on a clean change of clothes within ten minutes before spending the next five minutes styling his hair and adding accessories to his outfit of choice.

Was he looking to earn some intimate company for the night? Not really. But, it didn’t hurt to at least try and look like he was worth buying a drink for. He was already running kind of late, grabbing his phone and a jacket before tying on his boots and heading out the door, locking it shut haphazardly. He rushes down the stairs, mind in a blur as he opens the bar’s location on his phone and realizes that it's a ten minute walk.

“Shit!” Jisung groans, eyeing the street ahead of him to try and hail a cab within a few seconds before giving up and walking dejectedly down the sidewalk. He made sure to text his friends that he was on the way and they didn’t forget to tell him what a mess he was, to which he laughed off and pretended not to hear because deep down he knew that, he just didn’t want to be reminded.

As he arrives, hearing the mellow thumps of music with street lights ambient on the pavement ahead of its open front doors, he spots Felix’s blonde hair and Seungmin’s usual jeans and white shirt combo, waving to them with a beaming smile.

“You’re so late!” Seungmin frowns, but Felix is quick to smack his arm with a sigh.

“We’re just happy to see you, Ji. Feels like it’s been forever, is all.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m always busy.” Jisung apologizes truthfully, watching Seungmin roll his eyes with an unamused gaze. He knew Seungmin felt left out of his life now, and he hated that his friend felt so abandoned, but he felt like he couldn’t help his introverted tendencies of locking himself away in peaceful isolation.

“First round is on me. Let’s go!” Felix places his hands on his friend’s backs, pushing them gently towards the doors and into the vacant bar Seungmin had suggested.

It was modern on the inside, filled with televisions that broadcasted sports games and some sort of music channel, black leather bar stools empty as two bar backs sit waiting, hands on the bar with a white rag laid over their shoulder.

The walls were wooden, brown slats of repurposed wood with pictures of aesthetic photographs labeled with different brands of soju and beer rested against the panels, along with the usual neon lights resting behind the counter to add the typical flair to the newer, modern bar.

There were some patrons in the back of the bar, talking loudly about a soccer game with a mess of onion rings and french fries between them, empty bottles askew on the table behind them. Jisung watches them for a moment, eyes flicking up to gaze at the televisions above them, trying to understand why people found sports so interesting before following his friends to the bar quietly.

“Three shots of soju, please.” Felix smiles at the taller bartender, sitting down on a barstool that was almost in the middle with Seungmin to his left and Jisung settling to his right.

“What have you been working on lately, Ji?” Felix turns towards his friend, watching him sigh with a million answers clinging to his tongue.

“Mixtapes and some commission work here and there. Usual bullshit.” Jisung’s attention is stirred away by three clear glasses being sat down ahead of them, watching the clear liquid be filled to the brim of the small shot glass. He patiently waits for everyone to have their glass filled, grabbing onto his glass with his thumb and pointer finger, quietly cheersing with his friends before tossing the bitter liquid back, barely wincing at the sting of the soju.

“Post any new music lately?” Felix asks after swallowing his shot, placing the glass gently down on the counter.

“No. I’ve been in some sort of mental rut with this track. Haven’t made any headway with it in like a week.”

“That sucks.” Felix frowns, feeling Seungmin lean forwards, eyes glancing at Jisung with bitter interest.

“Well, maybe if you took more breaks, you wouldn’t be so frustrated.”

“Minnie,” Jisung tries to play along, ignoring the sting the words had on his heart. “I try my best.”

“What Seungmin is trying to say is that you look tired, Ji.” Felix shoots their younger friend a threatening glance before turning to Jisung with an empathetic look filled with concern, but Jisung tries to wave it off as nothing.

“I sleep! I sleep a lot, actually.”

“But do you take care of yourself?” Felix’s words hurt more than Seungmin’s did. He knows his friends are trying to be good and considerate, but the last thing he wanted on his conscience was to know that his friends were worried about him. He knew he had some problems to dish out with himself and his dirty apartment, but he was doing his best, and in his mind, that was all that mattered.

“I’m okay, guys. I promise. Please stop talking about my sad ass life! Let’s drink and have fun, yeah?”

“You’re right.” Felix nods, raising his hand slightly to cue the bartender back over. “But we’re going to discuss your unhealthy habits later.”

“Give me a break, mom.” Jisung drawls, earning a small bout of laughter from Seungmin.

“One more round, please.” Felix politely asks, watching the bartender reach for the soju again and pour one more small glass for the trio.

“God, I don’t know if I want another shot,” Jisung groans and Felix smacks his wrist.

“You’re taking one.” Felix smiles at him, watching his friend roll his eyes in despair as the bartender lines up three more shot glasses and fills them to the brim.

Jisung hardly refuses as soon as the liquor is poured, fingers grabbing onto the shot glass quickly, raising it towards his lips and tossing it back, barely wincing when the soju hits his tongue.

Felix and Seungmin follow suit soon after, a groan following after the liquid is swallowed, visibly wincing in recoil to the bitter sting of soju.

“God, what brand is this?” Seungmin mutters, shoving his glass away as he decides against wanting another shot.

“You’re just being a pussy,” Jisung grumbles, watching Felix stifle an incoming laugh and Seunming’s eyes turn into visual daggers.

“I’ll kill you.” Seungmin threatens, though his words hold little weight as Jisung starts laughing and Felix struggles to keep his composure.

Through his laughter, Jisung notices a shift change between the bartenders, watching the two males serving them previously fill in two other bartenders, hand over their towels and leave beyond the bend of the bar. Two younger men come through, one taller with broad shoulders and dark brunette hair. The other was just a little shorter, auburn hair, sharp jaw accompanied by a muscular build and veiny arms. He was wearing a black button-up, the first two buttons undone, hands sliding to his wrists to move his sleeves upwards towards his elbows.

“Ji!” Felix gently shoves Jisung’s arm, trying to snap his attention away from the new bar backs.

“Hm?” Jisung practically tears his eyes away from the stranger, watching Felix gawk at him hysterically.

“Are you checking him out?”

“What? No!” Jisung recoils, watching Seungmin turn his focus towards the new bartenders and almost immediately stand up from his seat.

“I’m gonna go get a table.” He mumbles to Felix, walking away and leaving Jisung to defend himself to Felix who very obviously didn’t believe him.

“I don’t need a boyfriend right now.” Jisung tries to keep his voice low, eyes watching the two bartenders slowly ease into their shift and scan their surroundings. “Besides. . . he’s probably not gonna be into me.”

“You never know, Ji.” Felix glances towards the bartender in question, then back towards his friend who was watching him curiously. “He’s your type. Who’s to say you're not his?”

“A very broke and very struggling music producer with a bad sleeping schedule doesn’t exactly sound like his type.”

“Oh, so you know him?”

“Obviously not.”

“Well, then how do you know?”

“You’re annoying,” Jisung sighs, dropping his gaze for a moment. “He’s really hot, though.”

“Yeah,” Felix turns around, a smile curling on his lips. “He is.”

“Where’d Minnie go?” Jisung turns to look, scanning the area around the bar with confusion lingering in his gaze.

“Said he went to go get a table. . . not sure why.”

“Oh.” Jisung blinks twice, turning back towards Felix with a raised brow. “Did we do something wrong?”

“I’d hope not. He was the one making fun of you, actually. I think he’s just hungry or something.”

“Why’d he go to a table instead of just ordering something here?”

“He’s Seungmin. He’s weird.”

“Right.”

“I’m gonna go keep him company. Are you coming with me or are you gonna try to flirt with the hot bartender?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “I’m not flirting with him.”

“You didn’t say anything to coming with me, so I’m assuming you’re gonna stay here.”

“Lix.” Jisung makes stern eye contact with his friend, watching a smile curl on his ‘innocent’ lips. “I don’t need a boyfriend right now.”

“You don’t have to make him your boyfriend.” Felix reassures. “You can just like. . . fuck around, y’know?”

“God, Felix.” Jisung stifles a laugh, turning his attention away towards the nearing bartender. “Be quiet, will you?”

“Can I get you two anything?” The older bartender asks politely, eyeing both of his patrons down while reaching for the white rag hung over his shoulder.

“I’ll do another round of soju, please.” Jisung says quietly, turning towards Felix who nods.

“I’ll just do a bottle. I’m gonna go join my friend at a table.” Felix smiles at the bartender, who nods slightly and gives them a warm smile.

“Of course. One second.”

“He’s cute-” Jisung mentions lightly, looking up at Felix with a devious smirk.

“Enough, Ji. I really don’t need a boyfriend.”

“I know. You're still dealing with Hyunjin, trust me, I know.”

“Well,” Felix watches the bartender approach again, an unopened bottle of soju in one hand and a shot glass in another. “Cowboy up, Ji.”

“Cowboy up?”

“Here you go,” The bartender hands over the bottle of soju to Felix, setting the empty shot glass on the counter before grabbing the old ones to stow away in an apparent dish rack beneath the surface of the countertop. “Half shot, full shot?”

“Full.” Jisung drawls, looking at Felix with an unvoiced plea for help.

“Right.” The bartender reaches for the bottle of soju behind the bar, his free hand grasping onto the shot glass before generously pouring in the liquor. It’s only then that Jisung looks up enough to catch the name tag hanging on his button-up shirt, eyes glazing over the silver pin with interest.

“Christopher?” Jisung audibly asks, watching the bartender look up once he was done pouring.

“That’s me. Just let me know if you need anything more.” Chris smiles and leaves, turning away towards the other bartender, the one in question, down the line.

“Well, I’m gonna go sit with Minnie. Please don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Felix grabs onto his bottle, watching Jisung reach for his shot glass and raise it, slightly tilting his shot glass towards his friend in silent cheers. Felix tilts his bottle back, rising from the barstool and walking away, leaving Jisung to throw the liquor back without thought.

He sets down the glass, sliding it towards the edge of the counter before leaving his barstool and walking timidly towards the other end. The other male was quite bruting, quiet and focused, all things Jisung took notice of immediately. His eyes scan for the male’s name, hands reaching out for the back of the barstool before he pulls it out to sit.

“Can I help you?” The male asks, almost coldly, but warm enough to be inviting as an employee.

“Old fashioned?” Jisung watches as the bartender breathes calmingly, nodding with a quiet sigh.

“Sure.” The male grabs a glass under the counter, using the towel perched on his shoulder to wipe away any fingerprints on the outside of the glass before mixing bourbon and whiskey together, tinged with the flavor of citrus to top it off.

Jisung watches devotedly, eyes scraping to try and find the name of said bartender, but he misses the chance to see his badge.

“Here you go,” The bartender sets down the finished drink on the counter ahead of Jisung, finished with a thin black straw and a napkin settled beneath the drink, using his white towel to wipe his hands off afterwards.

“Thank you,” Jisung smiles, looking up just in time to catch the spelling of a name. “Minho.”

“You’re welcome. . .?” Minho smiles at him for a moment, words hanging on the edge of his tongue as Jisung finally blinks himself to life.

“Ah, Jisung.” The younger smiles at him shyly. “Where’re you from?”

Jisung wraps a hand around his glass, watching Minho exchange glances with him awkwardly for a second before sighing.

“Gimpo-si.” Minho sharpens his gaze, eyes narrowed and voice a cent softer. “You?”

“I live in Seoul now. I was born in Icheon.”

“Do you like it here in Seoul?” Minho asks, hands resting on the edge of the bar as he glances around timidly at first, catching sight of no other customers near the bar.

“I do. I’ve been living here for about a year.” Jisung shrugs, raising his glass. “The weather here sucks, though.”

“It does rain a lot.” Minho agrees lightly, watching Jisung take a long swig of his new drink.

“It’s good writing weather, though.” Jisung breathes, slightly wincing from the ache of bourbon.

“You’re an author?”

“No. I write music a lot.” Jisung sets down his glass, watching as Minho’s attention is caught by his own gaze.

“A producer, hm?” Minho looks over to Chris, then settles back towards Jisung as he watches the younger rake a hand through his hair.

“What do you do, besides this?”

“I dance.” Jisung raises a brow at the response, eyes struggling to stay connecting towards Minho’s gaze. Minho definitely looked the part, given the fact that his veins protruded out of his arms and his neck, and also considering that he was incredibly fit.

“How long have you been dancing?”

“For as long as I can remember.” Minho’s gaze drifts. “I’ve loved it more than I’ve loved anything else.”

“Interesting,” Jisung smiles, fingers tapping his glass lightly. “I’ve felt the same way about music.”

“Write anything good?”

“Probably not by your standards.” Jisung scoffs.

“How do you know my music taste, hm?”

“Let me guess,” Jisung narrows his gaze, jaw taut with a smirk curled on the edge of his lips. “You like rock. Not hard rock, but something enough to get your body moving and to keep your mind busy. Or, maybe hip-hop of some kind because you like the beats and tones associated with it.”

“Pretty close.” Minho raises a brow. “How’d you know?”

“You’re a dancer. It’s pretty textbook.”

“Hm,” Minho leans away from the counter, waist and lower back pressing to the counter settled behind him that held multiple bottles of liquor stowed away on shelves nailed into the walls. “Let me guess something about you.”

“Alright,” Jisung raises his glass again. “Shoot.”

“You write music, so you don’t sleep. Right?”

“How could you tell?” Jisung rolls his eyes playfully, taking a drink of his booze.

“I can see the ridiculous amount of bags under your eyes, plus you hold your liquor incredibly well and like you said; textbook.” Minho grabs onto his white towel that was resting on the counter and tosses it over his shoulder. “Writers never sleep.”

“You can just sense my insomnia from that far away, hm?” Jisung takes another drink, setting down the glass almost unphased, but quietly screaming inside.

“It’s not that.” Minho shakes his head. “Tortured souls can see each other.”

The conversation unexpectedly turned deep, and for a second, Jisung regrets sliding over to this bar stool. Minho was undoubtedly smart, seeing right through his drunken facade with ease, given that he’s only said a few sentences to Minho. He didn’t like to drag on his own personal red flags, especially with a random hot stranger he had only met three minutes ago, but something about the elder made his heart race. That was something he wasn’t so easily going to let go of.

“What do you mean by tortured?”

“I just know you’ve been through some shit.”

“Hasn’t everyone?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t mean for this to sound rude, but when I look at you I see pain.”

“I need more whiskey for this.” Jisung groans, taking another large swig.

“I don’t want to impose.” Minho hurriedly apologizes, but Jisung can’t help but think that it might just be to save his tip. “I can just see that about you.”

“Minho,” Jisung bravely asks, fingers clinging to his drink. “What are you doing after this?”

The comment seems to have taken Minho by shock, leaving the male to sit quietly and blink rapidly towards the younger. Jisung instantly feels regret sinking into his stomach, leaving him little room to formulate words to fix the mess that stumbled from his mouth.

“I work until late tonight.” Minho finally admits coldly, leaving Jisung sitting awkwardly in his chair.

“I didn’t-” Jisung’s eyes close in a pinch. “I really didn’t mean that.”

“It’s alright.” Minho holds his hand up, silently asking for the younger to quit blaming himself as his eyes wince open.

“Well, now I’m embarrassed. So, I’m gonna go join my friends and act like this didn’t happen. It was nice to meet you, Minho.” Jisung grabs his glass and starts to stand from his seat, watching Minho glance down the bar and mutter something towards Chris. Jisung watches curiously as Minho turns back towards him, eyes unsure and timid.

“Wait.” Minho pleads, catching Jisung’s attention immediately the moment his feet meet the floor of the bar. Jisung’s eyes are wide, drink sweating in the palm of his hand as he waits, watching Minho internally argue with himself.

“Can you come with me for a second?”

Jisung doesn’t seem to care about the consequences of his actions now as he sets his glass down, pointing to it assuredly. “I’m coming back for that.”

“Sure, Jisung. Come here.” Minho smiles at him, walking to the otherside of the bar and towards a nearby door, to which Jisung follows devotedly. Awkwardly enough, it was the staff room.

A black nameplate is screwed into the door, gold letters etched into the metal stating ‘ Employees Only Beyond This Point’. Jisung is hesitant at best, but the encouraging glimmer in Minho’s dark brown eyes persuades otherwise, so he trudges forward.

Jisung scurries into the staff room, listening to the door hurriedly shut behind him as he glances around the white-walled room, catching a glimpse of boxes stacked next to each other, labeled with different brands of liquor. It was kind of organized from what Jisung could tell, but then again, what did he know about owning a bar?

“Minho-” Jisung turns around, unexpectedly feeling Minho’s hands capture his shoulders. Jisung quickly gets pushed backwards towards the empty wall, breath leaving Jisung’s lungs as his back meets the wall, feeling Minho’s hands push into his shoulders, keeping him placed up against the wall.

Words barely left Jisung’s lips before he felt Minho press up against him, chest on chest and lips on lips. Minho groans into Jisung’s mouth, hands readily touching and feeling all parts of Jisung’s body as he clings to him, messily kissing his lips and his neck.

Jisung returns the favor, hands gripping onto Minho’s waist hungrily, feeling the booze simmer deeply within his core as it drives him to bite down on Minho’s bottom lip. Minho doesn’t back down and instead returns the favor, slipping his tongue past Jisung’s lips to taste inside of his alcohol-soaked mouth, grinning against Jisung’s lips.

“Minho-” Jisung breathes, catching a moment to fill his lungs with fleeting air.

“Shh, Jisung.” Minho coos, kissing another breath away from his lips.

“Is this really work appropriate?” Jisung asks the moment Minho presses a few more kisses against his throat. “I was thinking that we could go out when you get off, since I don’t sleep, so you working late will never bother me anyway-”

Minho pulls away for a moment, a look of incredulous shock pulling at his expression as he stares at the younger playfully. “Jisung just shut up, will you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

More kisses are pressed to Jisung’s lips as the next few minutes pass filled with hitched breaths and subtle groans, hidden by the impasse of touches and kisses. Jisung didn’t realize how much he missed this. He longed for something like this for a while now, but with his work schedule and his lifestyle, it all seemed impossible. Given, the past relationship he was in was nothing except for toxic and unloving, but something about relationships gave Jisung an ick.

It wasn’t that he hated sharing his life with someone, however, sharing his personal details with a stranger who felt replaceable was an uncomfortable idea. He just wasn’t one for labels, especially when it came to relationships. He just liked to flirt and hang out with others, but rarely did he ever find himself in this type of situation.

There was a first for everything, and Jisung supposed that making out in a staff room with a hot bartender was indeed quite the first.

“I should go back,” Minho breathes, one more kiss being placed on Jisung’s jaw. “But you should know that what you said-”

“It was stupid.” Jisung shies away, but Minho catches his jaw with his fingers.

“It was alright if you meant it like that.” Minho blinks, watching Jisung’s expression turn puzzled. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Chris, but, it was okay if you meant what you said, about going out or whatever tonight.”

“Oh!” Jisung’s cheeks deepen in flush.

“I’m off at eleven. I think your friend Felix knows Hyunjin, right?”

“They do know each other,” Jisung smiles, watching Minho’s eyes light up gently. “Why?”

“Chris was begging for Hyunjin and I to go out clubbing with him tonight after work. You and Felix can tag along too.” Jisung’s almost expressionless for a second and Minho’s eyes widened with concern. “Unless you don’t want to-”

“I want to.” Jisung smiles, suddenly caught up in the idea of leaving Seungmin out. “But we do have a third friend. Can he come, too?”

“Sure. As long as you’re there.” Minho leans away for a second, but Jisung is quick to pull him right back with his hands glued to the back of the elder’s neck.

“I can’t wait to see you later, then.”

“I can’t wait to be free of this uniform.” Minho laughs, but Jisung leans closer, breathing Minho’s air and hushing a promise against his lips.

“I can’t wait to take it off of you.”

“Jisung-” Minho wants to cut free of the tension building between them, but Jisung is eagerly placing himself against Minho’s lips, pulling away after a few seconds of peppering kisses to his face and mouth. “I really have to get back to work.”

“Then go before I keep you hostage.” Jisung smiles, half wishing Minho would beg to stay.

“I’ll see you later. I’ll have Hyunjin tell Felix the details, alright?”

“Okay.” Jisung watches Minho pull away and he begrudgingly sneaks back out of the staff room, returning to the familiar counter that Minho wastes no time in disappearing behind.

Minho shares little words with Chris as he returns to work, acting innocently as if nothing had happened just a minute prior, pressing longing kisses to a stranger’s neck and lips. Jisung was adamant that this was just a fling, but something inside of him knew that Minho could hardly ever be just a fling.

Jisung grabs his glass that was still sitting on the end of the counter, swirling his thin straw around in the glass before shyly looking upwards, watching Minho’s eyes trail away from him suddenly. Jisung can’t help but smile like an idiot as he strolls away in search of his friends.

“There he is,” Felix smiles, hand hovering over a basket of french fries. “Where’d you go?”

“So, about that.” Jisung laughs, sitting down at the table across from Seungmin and Felix. “I just made out with the fucking bartender.”

“You’re kidding.” Seungmin frowns.

“You’re kidding!” Felix smiles, watching Jisung gauge both of his friend’s expressions.

“The growing hickey on my neck would suggest otherwise.”

“You’re gross.” Seungmin grabs a fry, shoving it into his mouth with a tinge of disgust lingering in his gaze.

“Hey. The dude was hot, alright?” Jisung reaches his hand over to the basket when Felix’s hand withdraws. “Besides. I got us plans for later.”

“Which is what?” Felix asks with intrigue, a french fry gracing his tongue with a pinch of salt.

“Clubbing. Apparently Hyunjin knows the guy.”

“You’re lucky I’m on good terms with him right now.” Felix rolls his eyes and Seungmin groans.

“So you’re telling me that this is some kind of double date, and I’m left alone?”

“No! You can have the other bartender. He’s coming too.” Jisung watches Seungmin’s eyes track towards the bar and return back towards his own gaze with lingering disinterest.

“I’d rather die.”

“Oh come on, Minnie.” Jisung whines. “I never get to see you guys. Please?”

“You are literally working all of the time. You said it yourself!” Seungmin feels Felix smack him on the wrist lightly, to which he sighs in defeat.

“Come on. One night. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Fine. But you owe me.” Seungmin grabs another fry, looking at both of his friends. Felix and Jisung both had smiles growing on their lips, happily watching their friend grow an attitude. “What?!”

“You’re so cute, Minnie.” Felix teases lightly, watching the younger lean into his chair and fold his arms across his chest.

“Shut up.”

“Let’s pregame, yeah?” Jisung eyes his drink excitedly, listening to Felix hum happily and Seungmin groan disapprovingly.

“I guess.” Seungmin leans forward, fingers grasping onto Han’s drink as he steals it away, tilting the rest of the liquid down his throat with ease.

“You’re a fucking lunatic.” Jisung threatens, eyes wide as he watches his younger friend completely slam back a drink concocted with both whiskey and bourbon. 

“And I’m going to need to be completely drunk to get through a night stuck with you. So let’s party.” Seungmin winces as he sets the glass down, eyes shut tight with bitterness as the bourbon lingers on his lips.

“You heard him,” Felix nods, bottle of half-drank soju in his hands. “Let’s party.”

Chapter Text

“I am so hungry.” Jisung groans on his couch, watching Seungmin clear the other half of his messy furniture, tossing clothes to the floor with a grimace.

“What do you have here to eat?” Felix asks from the kitchen, hands grabbing onto the fridge door’s handle, swinging the cold coffin open, scanning for anything to cook for his tipsy friends.

“I always order food.” Jisung turns his head, looking towards Felix with reddened eyes and a lazy smile. Felix sighs, closing the refrigerator door, turning to look at Jisung.

“Do you want me to order something for us? We have like two hours before we have to go meet your bartender.”

“You don’t have to, Lix. I can order something.” Jisung tried to respond, but Felix was already pulling out his phone and leaning against the kitchen island.

“Too late, I’m ordering us barbecue from the place down the street.”

“Ha!” Jisung laughs quietly to himself. “I order from there like every other day.”

“Makes a lot of sense as for why your apartment is so disgusting,” Seungmin drawls, watching Jisung turn to look at him with fake pity.

“I don’t have time to clean, Minnie!”

“You literally fucking work from home.” Seungmin’s expression is nearly emotionless, eyes narrowed with both disgust and disappointment.

“I can’t do this by myself.” Jisung pouts and Seungmin rolls his eyes.

“We’re cleaning this pigsty.” Seungmin rises from the couch, looking around the messy apartment with a long sigh rolling through his lips. Jisung watches with a curious gaze, listening to Felix approach with determination leading his tone.

“We’re gonna help you, right now. Let’s clean.”

“Can I at least drink while we’re doing this?” Jisung begs.

“Yes, Ji. Go get a drink.” Felix smiles, watching his friend rise from the couch and practically race over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of soju from the door.

“Thank god,” Jisung’s fingers immediately move to pop the bottle open, instantly raising the fresh soju to his lips to tilt it over his tongue.

“Where are we starting?” Seungmin looks over the horrid living space, canvasing the possible hours it was going to take to clean Jisung’s cluttered mess.

“Start with the couch. Ji’s gotta sit somewhere.” Felix mutters, reaching over the back of the couch to grab a few items of clothing. “Where’s your laundry stashed at?”

“There’s a bin on the other side of the divider.” Jisung points, walking towards the only ‘wall’ he had that separated his bedroom from his office space. Jisung disappears behind the black divider, then reappears with a plastic black laundry bin, already filled half-way with dirty clothes.

“When do you do your laundry?” Seungmin watches curiously, eyes narrowing the moment he sees Jisung shrug.

“I dunno. Sundays?”

“Well, we’re doing it now.” Seungmin reaches for more clothes, ignoring any plea Jisung whined from his lips.

“You guys really don’t have to do this-” Jisung tries to reason, but Felix immediately looks at him with a stern gaze.

“What if you bring that bartender back here tonight? Then what? Hmm?”

“Oh my god,” Jisung groans. “You’re being really dramatic, Lix.”

“No, I’m not! You don’t want said hottie to think that you live like a pig!”

“I don’t live like a pig!” Jisung argues, to which both of his friends look at eachother, then towards him, nodding and smiling obnoxiously.

“O-kay Jisung. Whatever you say.” Seungmin laughs, listening to Felix giggle next to him.

“Besides. . . what else are we going to do for the next couple of hours?” Felix grabs the final shirt laying on the now vacant couch, eyes glancing towards Jisung before moving to the basket just a few inches away.

“Drink. I hope.” Jisung tries to laugh at himself, a few bursts of a chuckle escaping hopeless lips, but Felix shakes his head and Seungmin smiles.

“In your dreams.” Jisung rolls his eyes at Seungmin’s dry, smartass humor, putting his bottle of soju down on the kitchen island before returning to the living space, picking up random trash and wrappers hiding beneath his nearly broken coffee table.

Seungmin helps him, asking where his broom was while Felix grabbed the garbage can, gathering whatever tipsy power they had left to clean the floor and any remnants of trash around the couch. It takes them roughly ten minutes to finish cleaning that space, looking at one another and feeling accomplished, before they realize they still had Jisung’s horrendous desk, his unmade bed, his kitchen and his bathroom.

Seungmin leads the charge, as usual, heading into the bathroom to scope out the situation before calling Jisung inside to force him to clean his own toilet. Jisung hardly protests, shooing Seungmin out of the small room to clean dreadfully.

Felix spends the next thirty minutes sorting through the pile of clothes on Jisung’s floor near his mattress, setting dirty laundry aside while also setting clean clothes on his bed. Jisung steals a long swig of his soju nearly every time he passes by the kitchen island, tilting the bottle towards Seungmin, who groans and walks away, leaving Jisung with a smug, drunken smirk.

Not too much later, their food arrives. Felix happily answers the door and thanks the delivery driver, setting the food down in a spread along the counter top, letting the aroma of Korean barbecue fill the almost-spotless apartment, letting his friends sit at the counter stools and hum happily. Jisung was on his second bottle of soju now, dancing around the apartment shortly before their meal had arrived, using his computer’s speakers to play a few of the songs he had made that Felix insisted on listening to. Seungmin didn’t seem to mind much, and it more so seemed like he enjoyed it. Mainly because Jisung spotted him humming along at certain points, to which he smiled in secret.

Each male gathered around the kitchen island, grabbing a hold of their order with a hungry stomach, barely wasting any time before digging in and eating happily. Jisung’s soju-filled stomach growled joyfully, each bite of barbecue tipping himself further away from drunken stupor.

“How much time do we have?” Felix asks, watching Jisung take out his phone from his pocket before tapping it awake to eye the time.

“Like. . . thirty minutes. Should we go now?”

“I dunno. You’re the one meeting the guy there.”

Jisung shrugged. “I don’t have his number.”

“How are we supposed to meet him then?” Seungmin cocked his brow, both males looking at Jisung disapprovingly.

“Hyunjin was supposed to send Felix the address.”

“Oh. That’s what that was?” Felix’s eyes widen, setting down his empty container to reach for his own phone.

“What? You thought the random address was something else?”

“Kinda thought it was a location for a hook-up or something, I don’t know.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “You guys are fowl.”

“Oh please.” Felix laughs. “Didn’t you date some douchebag like a year ago? Weren’t you disgustingly in love?”

“We don’t talk about him.” Seungmin shakes his head. “Not now, not ever.”

“Touchy?” Jisung asks, watching Seungmin roll his eyes once more.

“Yes, now drop it, would you? We’re talking about you two. Not me.”

“Okay, sassy pants.” Jisung mocks lightly, wincing when he sees Seungmin raise his fist out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, we have an address. Should we just go?” Felix looks to both of his friends, trying to stop any type of bickering before it was about to start.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Jisung grabs his empty container and nearly empty bottle of soju, walking towards his steel trash can and tossing his items into the bin. Seungmin and Felix follow suit, grabbing the last of their belongings before following Jisung to the door and heading back out into the world, slightly tipsy and stomachs full, strolling towards the nightclub that was only ten minutes away.

The club was insanely busy. This was not Jisung’s scene at all. There were flopping bodies and drunken dancers mingling around almost everywhere, covered in beaming colorful lights with music blasting overhead. A live DJ played random mixes of songs Jisung could hardly make out, groaning at some of the song choices when they came to greet his ears.

Hyunjin had texted Felix that they were on their way, but that was almost twenty minutes ago. So, Jisung found a seat at the bar, relatively far enough away from the sea of drunk partygoers, sipping down another bottle of soju very slowly. However, the nerves building inside of his stomach were struggling to stay beneath a level of comfort, eventually rising into a mode of anxiety that Jisung knew the feeling of all too well.

He was normally pretty anxious, well, as anxious as someone can be with an anxiety disorder, but with the help of therapy (years ago) and pouring his soul into music, he found ways to cope. Social interaction was never his strong suit, but something about the environment and the impending company of a guy he made out with was enough to encourage his familiar anxiety to crawl back into his mind.

Felix and Seungmin had found a table with booth seating, ordering large bottles of liquor with unlimited quantities of shots available in preparation for the rest of the group to arrive. Jisung was secretly afraid that Minho was backing out, holding onto something similar to hope that the kiss was enough to entice the male to want to see him again.

Jisung then threads through the anxious thoughts of thinking he wasn’t attractive enough or wasn’t interesting enough, plaguing himself with the idea that he was so incredibly vanilla and uninteresting. His eyes blink to life and finally settle on the thought of Minho being too good for him. But, then again, what did he know?

Ten more long and dreadful minutes pass, leaving Jisung to swallow the rest of his soju unhappily. He was actually concerned now, looking over his shoulder every couple of minutes to gauge the crowd, wondering why he even agreed to all of this in the first place. However, the minute the younger stands to leave his bar seat, two warm and slightly familiar hands find his shoulders, which audibly draws him to silence and makes his body suddenly become pliant.

“You came.”

“Minho?” Jisung turns his head, eyeing the attractive auburn-haired male, a smile curling on his lips happily. “I’m not a liar! Of course I came.”

“Well, I’m still glad you’re here.” Minho smiles at him briefly before eyeing the empty bottle of soju rested on the bartop before him. “Have you been drinking since I saw you at the bar?”

“Just a little. Not anything too bad. We also ate a shit ton of food earlier, so if anything, I’m just kind of drunk.”

“Drunk enough to dance with me?” Minho brazenly asks, almost unable to see the red flush that rises to Jisung’s cheeks.

“I don’t have to be drunk to want to do that.” Jisung replies, teeth catching his bottom lip just barely as he watches Minho’s hand be held out just a few inches in front of him.

“Follow me, then.” Minho’s hand embraces Jisung’s, holding it firmly as he leads the younger through the pressing crowd, unaware of Jisung’s anxiety crawling through his veins. Jisung does his best to hold himself together, glancing down at the floor or to his held hand, avoiding the acknowledgement of a large group of people on either side of him.

The music is thumping, almost to the point where Jisung can barely hear his own thoughts, and it’s enough to drag his mind out of the gutter to focus on the present. Minho was here. Minho was holding his hand and asking him to dance. That’s all his focus is drawn to.

The moment Minho stops and turns, Jisung feels like he’s elsewhere; deprived of all sudden wills to run away from the partying crowd. He’s so drawn to Minho that it seemed painful, but his body was so comfortable, so seemingly used to Minho’s hands willing him towards the dancing crowd that his body follows without hesitation. Minho’s touch is warm against him, fingers wrapped around his waist as he draws him closer, a smile beaming on his face, hair dangling in front of his eyes just barely. Pink and red strobe lights beam overhead, covering Minho’s face in a flush of dark magenta, and Jisung can hardly look away. He’s being sucked in, stuck in a crashing wave that was inevitably drawing him closer, but he doesn’t bother to refuse. His body leans closer, arms wrapping around his shoulders, hands finding the back of Minho’s neck steadily.

The music, the lights, the dancing; it’s euphoric. Jisung’s worries drift out of the door the moment he meets Minho’s comforting gaze, trapped in a loop of reassurance and calamity. Though, Jisung isn’t sure if he can blame his soju-soaked mind before he leans in, hands just barely catching the sides of Minho’s jawline, forcing the male into a warm, passionate kiss.

Minho kisses right back, hands gripping onto Jisung’s waist steadily, almost afraid that the male would turn away. But Jisung is steadfast, feet complacent, unmoving and unwilling, standing there with urgency plaguing his lips as his teeth graze Minho’s bottom lip, nipping the flesh carefully, but just enough to catch the elder’s attention.

They weren’t even dancing, stuck in a sea of people and purely making out for the sake of making out now, stuck in the thought of their hands on one another. Jisung had no idea where they were within the nightclub, suddenly remembering that he had two friends to keep an eye out for, but something deep within him refused to leave, begging for more than just languid kisses.

Instead, Minho pulls away for him, eyes glazed over in firm adoration, loving nothing more than the sight of Jisung flushed before him. Jisung is smiling shyly, hands just barely reaching into Minho’s hair as he plays with auburn locks greeting his fingertips.

Jisung, in all honesty, could die at this moment. He could be happy here, staring into Minho’s russet hues, completely enamored until he feels two unfamiliar hands greet his shoulders to break him free of the elder’s spell.

“So this is the bartender?” Felix hums, appearing around Jisung’s right shoulder, eyes looking Minho up and down timidly before returning his gaze towards his friend.

“AH! Shit. Sorry Lix.” Jisung’s hands drop away from Minho’s shoulders, body turning towards Felix completely. “I completely abandoned you guys back there-”

“It’s okay. I know the crowd can be overwhelming. Let’s get back to our table, yeah?” Felix tries inviting, watching Jisung’s hesitance grow. Felix raises his brow, assuming it had something to do with Minho, but Jisung turns towards his date of sorts, timidly reaching for his hand.

“Sorry, I’m horrible with crowds. Can you follow Felix and I’ll just hide behind you?”

“Jisung, I didn’t know that-” Minho watches Jisung smile softly at him for a second, almost horrified at himself for walking the younger through a large overflow of dancing bodies earlier.

“It’s okay. I’m usually okay if I just look at the floor. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” Minho reassures, gaze turning towards Felix. “You’re Felix, right?”

“Yeah.” Felix smiles.

“Lead the way.” Minho steps ahead, pacing directly behind Jisung’s friend as he feels the younger shift behind him, hand holding onto his own for dear life.

Jisung plunges behind Minho into the crowd, diligently following with his eyes focused on his own shoes and the floor below him. The lights were fading in and out, music toned down while the DJ talked briefly about some sort of themed club night for the following weekend, which made the trip a lot easier on Jisung’s anxiety.

He’s always hated crowds, specifically ones that are enclosed spaces with large amounts of people. So, in other terms, a nightclub wasn’t exactly his idea of a great time, but he wanted to see Minho and be with his friends, so he swallowed his fear and went anyway, engulfing himself into his own version of hell. In all honesty, Jisung wasn’t as affected by the club as he thought he might be, maybe it was Minho, maybe it was his friends, but he felt a bit calmer knowing that he had familiar faces around, especially when one specific face was incredibly kissable and nice to look at.

“Here,” Felix points to Minho, leading them into the back corner, secluded from the rest of the tables and mostly out of the way, perfectly secluded from the chaos. “You can look now, Ji.”

“Thank you,” Jisung pops out from behind Minho after Felix’s comment. Jisung shyly lets go of Minho’s hand, trying to avoid the feeling of wanting Minho’s hand forever entangled with his own, especially after realizing that he was putting so much faith and comfort into someone who was basically a stranger.

“Jisung!” Hyunjin approaches, a smile curled to his lips, eyes trailing towards Felix almost immediately after. “Glad you found them.”

“Where’s Chan?” Minho asks lightly, watching Hyunjin put two and two together, eyes blinking rapidly as if he was just faced with an ultimatum.

“This is who you kissed?” Hyunjin breathes, watching Minho roll his eyes. Jisung, who was stuck in the middle, tries to squeeze out of the way, ducking his head down and moving towards Felix, but not before he feels Minho gently take a hold of his hand again.

“Yeah?” Minho responds, a tinge of ice versed on his tone. Hyunjin rolls his eyes playfully, teeth biting on his lower lip for a moment before reaching his hands out, hands placing themselves on Minho’s shoulders. Jisung ducks out of the way, standing next to Felix with confusion lingering in his gaze. Felix was almost as confused as Jisung was, but he was used to Hyunjin’s weird antics more than anyone else.

“Aw, Minho’ah! Don’t be so pissy. I was just curious. Not trying to be an asshole.” Hyunjin teases lightly and Minho shrugs his hands off of his shoulders.

“Where’s Chris at, Hyunjin?”

“In the bathroom. He went with their other friend.” Hyunjin points off to somewhere behind him, almost as if he wasn’t completely sure where the restrooms were. But Minho sighs anyways, walking away from the conversation to head towards the booth and sit down, scooting further inside to make room for Jisung to settle next to him if he wanted.

Jisung watches him curiously, eyes looking back at Felix for a moment before shrugging off his anxiety and following devotedly. He scoots under the table as well, sitting next to Minho closely, feeling the elder lean over slightly, lips parting next to his ear.

“Feeling okay?” Minho asks, watching Jisung turn towards him after watching his giggling friends.

“I’m okay.” Jisung’s brows furrow for a second, confusion lingering deeply within his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“You said that you don’t like crowds.” Minho mutters to him, but Jisung shakes his head.

“I’m alright. I’m kind of drunk so I’m not as worried about the crowd of people here. I just wanna get to know you.”

“What do you want to know?” Minho asks inquisitively, watching Jisung lean into the leather booth seat comfortably.

“Why’d you take me into the staff room?”

“Ah,” Minho smiles, head tilting downwards as if he were embarrassed. “I don’t know. I usually hate everyone who tries to hit on me when I’m behind that awful bar, but something about you was different.”

“Like what?” Jisung’s elbow greets the table, head leaning against his own palm as he stares at Minho with a dopey smile, watching the elder shy away from his gaze again.

“The way you carry yourself. You’re outgoing, but kind of shy. You cared enough about your appearance to dress up a little, let alone realize that you were going to try to swoon the bartender.”

“You act like you can see right through me, Minho.”

“I did tell you that tortured souls can see each other, right?”

“You did.” Jisung watches Minho inch closer just slightly, eyes tilting down towards the younger’s lips.

“I like that about you.”

“Hmm, what else do you like about me?”

“I could tell you,” Minho breathes, inching closer, hands finding Jisung’s thigh, just barely grasping the flesh nearby. “Or I could show you.”

“Is that a promise?”

Minho’s lips finally come within an inch of Jisung’s, just barely grazing past the skin of the younger’s. “It can be if you want it to.”

Jisung’s bottom lip tilts up, just barely pushing into Minho’s, and Jisung can’t help but smirk. “Just shut up and kiss me already.”

Minho follows through, pressing a slow, hungry kiss to Jisung’s lips. Jisung didn’t care about his friends possibly gawking at him, pointing and making fun of how pliant he seemed to be the moment Minho pressed against him. Jisung needed this. He wasn’t sure if he could have this for a day, for a week, or for no longer than their night at the club. Something inside of him begs for this to continue, lingering in the pit of his stomach as the thought of bringing Minho back to his apartment sits in the forefront of his brain.

He wants Minho more than he wanted a drink a few hours ago, hungrily chasing kiss after kiss, ignoring every possible distraction gathering around them. The music fades and the lights dim, all Jisung can focus on is the teeth that grab his bottom lip, a groan releasing from his mouth the moment Minho’s teeth let go of his own flesh.

“Get a fucking room,” Hyunjin drawls, earning laughter from Felix shortly after. Jisung ignores them, hand reaching to press against Minho’s chest, gently bundling the fabric in his fist, keeping the elder pressed against him lustfully.

“We should-” Minho tries to speak between kisses, hands grasping Jisung’s thighs tightly. “Get something to drink.”

“We could dance more-” Jisung tries to agree, more kisses following shortly after.

“Jisung-” Minho breathes.

“Hmm?” Jisung smiles against Minho’s lips, listening to the elder laugh into his own words.

“If you want to dance, then you’ve gotta stop kissing me.”

“Fine,” Jisung pouts, one last kiss pressed to the corner of Minho’s lips with haste. “But you’re leading the way. . . for obvious reasons.”

“Right,” Minho smiles, watching Jisung turn around, eyes facing their friends who were too deep in also kissing each other, a bottle of soju pinned between their chests while being held in Hyunjin’s hand. Jisung wants to interrupt, but Minho’s hand presses to his back and forces him to stand, ignoring the situation as they head into the flashing lights and mingling bodies.

Minho immediately takes a hold of Jisung’s hand protectively, walking him through a few crowds of drunk partiers, feeling Jisung grasp his hand tightly. Before Jisung realizes, they’re in the mix of a crowd, lights flooding overhead, flashing in several colors as the beat of the music drowns all thoughts of anxiety ripping through his chest. Minho is there, watching him closely, body moving subconsciously to the beat of the electronic music blasting overhead, immune to the onlookers and wasted peers around him. Jisung feels intoxicated, but it’s not from the alcohol. Something about the atmosphere was driving him full tilt, body moving readily with Minho, almost in tandem, eyes glazed over with stupor.

He finally felt a weight drift off of his shoulders, freeing him of the several ties to his lonely lifestyle, wanting nothing more than to pull Minho against him and breathe in his warm breaths. There’s a fire burning in his stomach, one that he isn’t completely sure how to tame. But he can feel it nonetheless, letting the music and ambiance drown him.

An hour passes. It’s well past midnight and Jisung is drunk. He spent probably twenty minutes dancing with Minho before rushing back to the booth and chugging a bottle of soju, laughing with Hyunjin and Felix about something completely random. Minho just sits in the booth and watches, eyes red, chugging his own bottle of booze. Seungmin and Chris had wandered back sometime later, drinks in hand and faces flushed, laughing about something only they knew about.

Felix and Hyunjin disappear soon after, strolling to the sidewalk to hail a cab. Minho and Jisung follow suit, emptying the remnants of their drinks before locking hands and turning towards their remaining friends. Minho makes awkward eye contact with Seungmin before watching the younger walk away after claiming he needed another drink, leaving Chris to fend for himself.

“We’re going to head out,” Minho leans towards Chris, head tilting towards their table. “Did Hyunjin pay for everything or?”

“He put it on our tab. Just split it like usual, yeah?”

“That’s fine. Let me know what I owe you.” Minho watches Chris nod with a friendly smile, but not before he notices his friend glance at his hand locked with Jisung’s.

“Get home safe. Don’t have too much fun.” Chris teases lightly, slowly walking back towards the table as he leaves Minho wordless behind him. Jisung watches with a drunken, curious gaze, but he barely cares enough to pay any kind of attention.

“Ready?” Minho turns to look at Jisung, who nods sleepily, eyes hazy and lips smiling. “Come on. I’ll get you home.”

Minho wasn’t sober by any means, but he did handle his alcohol incredibly well. It did help his cause by being a bartender where he learned how to control his intake, feeling more of a subtle drunkenness rather than full on inebriation. Jisung was well beyond that, allowing himself to feel nothing and relax, kissing Minho until he couldn't breathe.

But, Minho leads him out of the nightclub anyways, hands tangled together with Jisung helplessly following behind him. The crowd was thicker than before, more lively and more chaotic; everything Jisung hated. However, with Minho’s hold on his hand and his mind completely intoxicated, he could simply care less.

The moment fresh, cold air greets Jisung’s skin, he feels himself wince slightly, clinging to Minho like a lost puppy. Minho hails a cab, paying for their fare and settling into the backseat before asking Jisung for his address, to which he gives the driver in drunken mumbles. Somehow the driver understands and parades the drunken couple towards Jisung’s apartment, which hardly takes any longer than eight minutes.

Minho leads them into the apartment complex, listening to Jisung’s directions towards the staircase and up two flights of stairs, then down a long vacant hall that leads to a door that ends up being the second to last apartment. Minho watches Jisung fumble for his keys for a moment, but eventually the door unlocks and Jisung wanders inside, holding the door open for Minho before closing it behind the elder with a muffled laugh. Jisung was only laughing because his apartment was clean. This wasn’t the intent of Seungmin and Felix’s help earlier, but, god was he thankful.

Minho strolls around the apartment for a second, taking in the small studio apartment and its freshly cleaned state. Jisung sets down his keys on the counter, eyes watching Minho as he walks closer towards his desk.

“You work here?” Minho asks, hand gracing the back of Jisung’s desk chair.

“Yeah. It’s nothing special.”

“I thought you might have some sort of big studio. This. . . isn’t what I expected.”

“I’m not famous or anything, Minho.” Jisung laughs, walking towards the back of his couch, hand greeting the fabric as he watches Minho, almost feeling nervous as the elder inspects his workspace.

“No, no, I know that.” Minho laughs lightly. “It’s cool, though.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Jisung leans onto the couch, feeling the pull of exhaustion linger in his eyes, but he blinks awake, trying to stay alive for Minho’s sake. He knew he was drunk, but he was thankful he wasn’t his usual blabbering, flirty drunk-self. Normally he would be talking nonstop, drinking more than he breathes, probably dancing like an idiot, and flirting with anything that moved. Felix referred to him as a walking attention whore, and Jisung wasn’t one to refuse the name. He’s seen videos of himself completely blasted like this, so who was he to refuse his drunken title?

“Can I get you anything?” Jisung asks, watching Minho turn around to face him.

“Yeah, actually,” Minho walks towards the couch, legs barely touching the cushions as he smiles at Jisung, eyes hinted with something Jisung saw earlier in the depth of the staff room and in the floodlights drowning them at the nightclub.

“What is it?”

Minho leans closer, hands reaching to grab the back of the couch, just barely an inch away from Jisung’s hands. “Can I kiss you?”

Jisung’s heart stops the moment Minho whispers, jaw tight and eyes fluttering, gaze finally landing on Minho’s siren eyes. He hoped Minho knew he didn’t have to ask for permission at this point, given that they’ve made out three different times today alone, but something about the question drives to relight the fire in Jisung’s stomach.

Jisung nods his head feverishly, eyes gazing down at his lips. “Please.”

Minho wastes little time, pressing close, kissing the breath from Jisung’s drunken lips. Jisung’s hands raise immediately, cupping Minho’s jaw and neck lightly. Minho’s hands reach for Jisung’s back, encouraging the male to come closer, and somehow in Jisung’s drunk mind, climbing over the couch was the only way to get closer. So, he stumbles over, legs lazily swinging to the otherside of the couch, lips disconnecting for a second, but surging back the moment he’s able to.

Now their bodies are in line with one another, stomach to stomach, chest to chest; hands unable to stay off of one another. Jisung almost doesn’t understand how he ended up here, pressed against someone he met barely five hours ago, but he doesn’t bother to question it. He wants him. He wants him more than he’s wanted anything else.

Jisung’s lips travel towards Minho’s neck, planting a hungry kiss on his pulse, hands moving to Minho’s black button-up shirt, carefully undoing each button until he reaches the bottom. Minho lets him, his own hands glued to Jisung’s waist, fingers gently curling over the waistband of his jeans.

The final button pops free, and Jisung’s hands immediately travel around Minho’s now bare chest, lips disconnecting from the aching hickey he left painted against his throat.

“How are you so hot?” Jisung’s breath nearly leaves him, words muffled to a breathless murmur. Minho smiles at him, lips catching Jisung’s cheek then his earlobe. He presses closer again, hands gripping tighter around the younger’s waist. Jisung’s head tilts back for a second, teeth grabbing onto his bottom lip to avoid letting out an embarrassing whine. Minho was non-verbally begging, lustful kisses turning sinful the moment they grab onto the younger’s skin to leave loving bites.

“Minho-” Jisung breathes in a whisper, head tilting back down to capture the elder’s lips in a rushed kiss that separates almost as quickly as it begins. “You’re driving me nuts.”

“You like this feeling though,” Minho smiles, kissing Jisung again. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, Minho’ah.” Jisung chases the kiss, just barely kissing the corner of Minho’s mouth. “Please make me crazier.”

There’s a brief pause, only breaths being shared between the few inches between them, but Minho is quick to reach his hands down to Jisung’s thighs, lifting the younger up into his arms with Jisung’s ankles crossed behind his lower back. Jisung takes the chance to plant more kisses on Minho’s jaw, teeth grabbing skin and lips sucking, covering the elder in bruising hickeys. Minho makes his way over to Jisung’s freshly made bed, unaware that the entirety of this space was a disaster just three hours ago.

Minho leans down towards the bed once he feels his knees make contact with the mattress, carefully unhooking Jisung’s legs from his waist to set the younger down, almost as if he was afraid to break him. Jisung’s elbows land to prop him upwards, looking up at Minho with tired, sinful eyes. Minho leans down, hands settling on either side of Jisung’s waist, watching as the younger slides backwards carefully the more he towered over him.

Jisung’s hands find Minho’s torso, gently feeling his exposed skin with his fingers, trailing down towards his abdomen, enjoying the way Minho’s skin feels against his touch.

“I have to tell you something,” Minho says quietly, watching Jisung’s gaze turn confused.

“Okay.” Jisung blinks twice, watching Minho lean back a bit, words hanging on the edge of his tongue.

“My ex. . . I think you know him. You know him pretty well, actually.”

“Minho-” Jisung whines. “What does this have to do with anything we’re doing?”

“Hey,” Minho smiles at him. “I just think it’s important that you know.”

“You’re kind of ruining the moment here, hyung.”

“Jisung-” Minho smacks Jisung’s abdomen lightly, catching the younger’s attention quickly. “Just listen for a second, okay?”

Jisung stays quiet, eyes carefully watching Minho’s expression turn unreadable. “I was in a relationship with one of your friends. We were together for a long time, and I don’t know if he told you-”

“Wait.” Jisung leans upwards at his waist, hands keeping himself propped up as Minho leans backwards to adjust. “One of my friends?”

“Yeah.” Minho’s jaw is taut as the uncomfortable secret hangs between them.

“Who was it? Because, I only have like two friends, and it definitely was not Felix! Unless you dated Hyunjin, then I guess that’s weird but like, I get it. He is really attractive, but I wouldn’t really see you to be his type-”

“Seungmin. I used to date Seungmin.”

Chapter Text

“You what?”

“God, I just ruined the mood, didn’t I?” Minho flops down on the bed next to Jisung, hands finding his face almost immediately after, feeling Jisung turn towards him.

“No, wait-” Jisung sighs, struggling to compose his thoughts. It wasn’t that hard to believe, but from what he knew, Seungmin always referred to his ex as an asshole. Minho didn’t seem like an asshole, he was kind and affectionate. Maybe it was all a mask just to get himself laid, but Jisung couldn’t convince himself of that belief. “H-he didn’t tell me that.”

“How long have you guys been friends?” Minho turns to look at Jisung the moment his hands fall back to his stomach, fingers pulling his shirt closed as he toys with the buttons on his shirt between the pads of his thumb and pointer finger.

“A long time. Probably like, I dunno, eight years? Something like that?”

“Are you guys close?”

“Well, the three of us are all really good friends.” Jisung’s eyes blink down to catch a glimpse of Minho re-buttoning his shirt and his hand raises to smack away the elder’s hands preventatively. “I just hardly see them anymore and it sucks.”

“Is there a reason for that?” Minho doesn’t mention Jisung’s swatting hand and instead pauses his will to redress himself.

“I’m just busy all the time. I make myself busy to keep myself afloat. Producing isn’t exactly a booming business for no-names, so I work every hour that I’m awake.”

“Sounds unhealthy,” Minho mutters and Jisung doesn’t bother to react. Jisung knew his habits were extremely unhealthy and not for everyone, but it worked best the way it was. He avoided sleep and caffeinated his mind instead, working through rough patches of the evening until he reached a mental slump and forced himself to sleep, only to rise a few hours later to barely eat and keep working.

“But it makes money-” Jisung cuts himself off once he realizes that Minho is quietly laughing at him, and his eyes narrow jokingly. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re ridiculous. And I’m drunk.” Minho breathes, turning his gaze towards the younger with reddened eyes. “Are you going to be busy tomorrow?”

Minho watches Jisung’s brows furrow, eyes narrowing for a second, stuck in a thought that only Jisung would ever keep to himself as he listens to Minho’s teasing tone. “Why?”

“Well, if you’re gonna be busy and want to work tomorrow, then I can leave. We don’t have to fuck around.”

“I can make myself free for you,” Jisung’s hand shyly reaches over to land on Minho’s exposed stomach to catch the elder by surprise.

“Are you sure?” Minho’s breath catches in his throat the second he realizes that Jisung’s hand was traveling further down his stomach and was currently undoing the buttons that Minho spent a few seconds threading back through their desired holes.

“Very.” Jisung tilts upwards, leaning on his elbow, face towered over Minho’s perfectly, smiling down at him the moment his hand reaches the edge of the elder’s pants. Minho watches curiously, skin slightly twitching beneath Jisung’s touch the moment his fingers travel beneath the hem of his jeans.

Jisung finds little resistance building in Minho’s body the second his hand finds the edge of his boxers, sinking beneath the threshold of comfort into unexplored territory, listening to Minho release a breathy sigh through parted lips. Jisung watches him unfold, his cold exterior melting at the first pressure of heat, nearly falling apart just from Jisung touching him. Jisung enjoys this, lips diving down to press subtle kisses to his collar bones, rising up into the depth of his neck, sucking on his pulse as if he was a hungry vampire awaiting his next meal.

Minho is a heavy breathing mess beneath him, feeling Jisung’s grasp turn sinful, eliciting the quietest of groans from the elder’s lips.

“Quick fucking teasing me already.” Minho breathes, hands reaching up to cup Jisung’s jaw, pulling him up towards his lips to trap the younger in a searing kiss. Jisung’s hand removes itself, feeling himself race into unbuttoning Minho’s pants and pulling them off of his waist, leaving only his boxers exposed with his jeans bundled at his ankles. Minho’s hands needily tear and rip at Jisung’s shirt, pulling it over the younger’s head in a rushed, hungry fashion, tossing the fabric to the floor nearby without hesitance. Jisung moves to straddle Minho now, the elder’s hands finding their way to Jisung’s pants, unbuttoning them and forcing Jisung to raise his hips, pulling the denim down further and further (with help, of course).

Now, pantsless and almost completely exposed, Jisung’s hips finally tilt down with the intent of stirred friction. The moment Jisung sinks downwards, moving his hips sinfully, both males can hardly compose themselves.

“What the fuck-” Minho chokes, hands gripping Jisung’s hips tightly. Jisung mumbles something in a breathy, incoherent response and Minho laughs at his answer, head tilting back into the mattress.

Jisung was drunk, but not drunk enough to not know what he was doing. He leans down, hovering his lips above Minho’s, hips steadily and experimentally grinding down on Minho, listening to collective breaths muffle between them.

“God-” Minho breathes, hands reaching to cup Jisung’s ass in a firm hold, but once the younger grinds down slowly and languidly, his hands needily tug at Jisung’s boxers.

Jisung giggles lightly, pressing a kiss to Minho’s lips quickly. “Someone’s eager.”

“Seriously stop talking-” Minho kisses him again, feeling Jisung’s hands move to take off his boxers now, leaving them both exposed and at each other’s throats. Minho reaches in between  Jisung’s legs, touching the sensitive parts of his body, lips attaching themselves to his neck, biting and pulling the skin near his pulse. Jisung now falls apart, head tipping to the side, exposing more of his skin for Minho to nip at.

“Okay, okay!” Jisung whines. “Please stop before I-”

“Fine,” Minho hushes, “It was only fair.”

Jisung drunkenly smiles at him, eyes glazed over and casted in lust. “You’re okay with this?”

“Yeah.” Minho raises a brow. “Are you? I know we’re both drunk and everything, so I don’t wanna force you-”

“You aren’t forcing me, hyung. So just shut up and fuck me already.”

Minho’s eyes are spears, gazing up at Jisung for a second before wrapping his hand around Jisung’s back, switching them over to place the younger on his back beneath him. Jisung swoons, biting his bottom lip feverishly, eyes glancing at Minho’s muscular arms that hold him upright, veins protruding in all their glory. Minho shakes off his shirt, tossing the material to the floor as he finds himself naked and between Jisung’s thighs.

Minho was incredibly attractive, there was no denying that. But, seeing him like this? Jisung was incredibly smitten. Auburn locks tumble across Minho’s line of sight, staring down at Jisung like he was a hungry predator eyeing his prey, and Jisung wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Do you have-?” Minho breathily asks.

“Yeah, yeah. Side drawer. Just hurry, please.” Jisung pleads, watching the elder do as instructed, taking no longer than thirty seconds to prepare himself and settle back in between Jisung’s thighs, feeling the younger wrap his legs around his waist with ease.

Something changes in Minho’s gaze the second he leans back down, searching Jisung’s drunken eyes with no idea what he’s looking for. So he cranes downwards, pressing a warm, slow kiss to Jisung’s swollen lips. His hand reaches down, grabbing onto himself to press against Jisung, lips busy with stealing the breath away from the younger’s lungs.

Jisung’s breath hitches the moment he feels Minho, and everything turns to bliss. Jisung feels like he can’t see straight, mind hazy and vision blurry; completely stuck on the idea of feeling every single inch of Minho. There’s no words spoken, just hushed breaths and sloppy kisses, saliva exchanging between exploring tongues.

Minho’s hips send Jisung to what feels like a new universe, though, it could be the alcohol tilting him into this feeling. Everything was heightened, lust and longing pressured in his stomach until he felt it twisting with an ache that he almost couldn't refuse. Yet he does, hands reaching to drag down Minho’s back to ground himself, letting each and every noise echo out of his lips with the sinful plea of silently begging against Minho’s ear. “More.”

Minho isn’t sure what the younger exactly wants more of, but he decides to move Jisung’s legs a bit higher, pulling his waist closer to the younger’s, hands glued to Jisung’s hips with temptation and promise. He was chasing what felt like the beginnings of his high, but his focus drifted off elsewhere. For a second he gazes at Jisung’s inebriated and sleepy eyes, transfixed and aware of what Jisung wanted now, snapping his hips forward while attaching his lips to the skin just below the younger’s jaw.

A sharp whine echoes out of the younger’s lips, and Minho can’t help but love how Jisung’s sounds make him feel, let alone how Jisung felt around him.

“Hyung, please.” Jisung pleads quietly. “I can’t-”

“I know,” Minho hums sleepily, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s forehead.

It doesn’t take more than a minute before Jisung is completely falling apart, hands threading through Minho’s hair in a way that tilts the elder over the edge too, both males soon sharing the same breath with aching lungs. Minho’s forehead drops to Jisung’s shoulder, lips pressing a few, tired kisses to Jisung’s bare skin. Jisung’s hands wrap around Minho’s back, legs dropping to the mattress with exhaustion pulling at his eyes, head tilting towards Minho’s ear.

They’re wordless and breathless for a minute, lungs expanding to capture fleeting air as it leaves them, sweaty and pressed against each other tiredly.

“I’m so fucking tired.” Jisung laughs, feeling the elder chuckle against him.

“Me too.” Minho raises his head, looking down at Jisung. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No.” Jisung smiles. “I just need to clean my stomach off, for obvious reasons.”

“Well-” Minho presses a languid kiss to his lips, then pulls away almost a second later. “I’ll be right back, then. Wait here.”

Minho carefully pulls away, reaching for his boxers that were tossed onto the floor before stumbling towards the bathroom. Jisung watches, quietly giggling to himself before reaching for his phone to eye the time. It was late, but Jisung hardly cared. Felix had texted him about fifthteen minutes ago, but once he heard the bathroom door open again, he tossed his phone away, eyes wandering towards Minho’s toned stomach.

“Here,” the elder tosses a damp rag towards Jisung, to which the younger catches and begins wiping away at his stomach. “Did you want me to leave or-”

“No,” Jisung sits up, tossing the rag away and reaching for his boxers that were also discarded to the floor minutes ago. “You should stay.”

“I can stay. I don't work for the next two days.” Minho sighs, crawling back onto the mattress and plopping down next to Jisung, head resting into a nearby pillow.

Jisung turns to look at Minho, finally pulling his boxers over his waist. “So you don’t work on the weekends?”

“No, not usually. Sometimes I work for Chris so he can take some time off. Dude’s a workaholic.” Minho sighs, watching Jisung’s gaze trail towards his own ceiling.

“He and I would get along really well then.” Jisung smiles, feeling Minho’s eyes on him. “I work so much sometimes that I barely feel like I even live anymore.”

“You should take breaks.” Minho breathes. “It can’t be easy on your mental health.”

Jisung turns towards Minho, eyes tired and confused, almost stunned that a near-stranger was worried about his fucking mental health. “Why does it matter?”

“Because you matter.” Minho smiles slightly at Jisung, nearly delirious. “I’m too fucking tired for this conversation right now. Can we sleep? Or did you want to keep fucking around?”

“No, hyung, let’s sleep.” Jisung rolls his eyes playfully, rolling over to his side, hand gently moving to rest on Minho’s bare abdomen.”We’re gonna talk about what you said in the morning though.”

“If you remember, then sure. Let’s talk about it in the morning.” Minho presses closer, reaching his hand over to thread through Jisung’s dark hair. Jisung’s gaze softens, eyes searching over Minho’s face. He’s not sure if he’s drunk or if he’s genuinely feeling a connection between the two of them, but something in his heart is so adamant on not letting Minho leave.

“Just c’mere and cuddle me, idiot.” Jisung teases, turning to his other side quickly the moment he feels Minho reach to pull him against his chest. Minho is warm, almost like a radiator, bare chest against Jisung’s bareback, breathing slowing down and eyes eventually closing. Jisung was weirdly comfortable with this contact, feeling sleep overwhelm him quickly as he lay there, mind quiet and heart fluttering. Minho presses a few kisses to Jisung’s shoulder before pressing his head back into the pillow, taking a deep breath and exhaling quietly.

There are no more words exchanged between them, just soft, tired breaths. Jisung willfully sleeps an honest six hours with Minho wrapped around him, barely thinking into the awkward morning ahead of them.

The sun rises just before seven in the morning, cascading beautiful rays of warm light into Jisung’s freshly clean apartment. Minho had rolled out of bed ten minutes ago, sitting on his phone at the kitchen island, eventually turning to look at Jisung, waiting for the younger to wake. Minho wanted to take him out to get coffee or to eat breakfast, but he didn’t know how forward he could be. It seemed like this was some sort of one night stand, however, Minho didn’t expect to feel what he did. He’s weirdly attached to the younger, wanting to do this once more, and maybe even a second time. They were sexually compatible from what he could tell, so Minho didn’t really want to stop this. He wanted to see Jisung again, at least once more, if only the younger would allow it.

Jisung eventually starts making some noises, rolling back and forth in the bed until his eyes peel awake. He’s delirious, unsure of what happened the night before, barely remembering anything except for Minho’s lips and his hands. He sits upright, hand combing through his messy head of unwashed hair, eyes blinking awake until the blurry figure of Minho sitting in the kitchen comes into focus.

“Minho?” Jisung yawns, wiping away the exhaustion pulled at his eyes. “You’re still here?”

“Do you want coffee?” Jisung’s eyes open wider at the sudden promise of caffeine, slowly tossing his legs over the edge of the mattress. Minho is turned around in his seat, his black button-up shirt hung open, but hanging from his shoulders nonetheless.

“Yeah. I could use coffee. This hangover is starting to not feel great.” Jisung rises from the bed, strolling over to the kitchen to open his fridge, sighing disappointingly when he realizes he still doesn’t have any food in his apartment. “Maybe we should just get food, too. I don’t have shit in here.”

“Wanna go somewhere?” Minho watches the younger turn away from the fridge, elbows finding the cold countertop and bending at the waist curiously.

“Are you asking me out, Lee Minho?” Jisung raises a brow and Minho scoffs.

“Call it whatever you want.” Minho smirks, placing his phone face down on the counter.

“What are we calling what happened, by the way?” Jisung watches Minho sigh, a stroke of dread pulling at his stomach. He really wanted to avoid this conversation, but he knew the curious younger male would ask anyway.

“We don’t have to call it anything.”

“How about. . . a hook-up? Friends with benefits? Something?” Jisung fidgets with his hands for a second, unsure of how to react to the situation at hand. “I don’t know how to deal with this kinda thing and labeling it might make me feel better.”

“I don’t know how to deal with it either. I don’t have sex with every attractive guy that strolls into my bar.” Minho watches Jisung smile at the hidden compliment, a tint of blush rising to his cheeks.

“Well, I guess that leaves us with a decision, then.” Jisung watches Minho pay attention whole heartedly, eyes never wavering away from Jisung’s tired gaze. “Do you want to do this again?”

“Only if you want to.” Minho starts to smile, earning the same smile back from Jisung.

“Of course I do.”

“Then we’re friends with benefits. . . or whatever.” Minho watches Jisung’s eyes light up and he immediately feels his face grow warm.

“I hate that term.” Jisung rolls his eyes. “But I really do not want a relationship right now. I’ve got so much work and stuff already, so, if you’re okay with not having feelings attached then-”

“I get it. No feelings. Just sex.” Minho leans back slightly, grabbing his phone to check the time. He was still in his boxers, watching Jisung’s eyes trail down the line of his toned and exposed stomach. Minho is a bit smug, carefully picking apart Jisung’s expression the longer the younger stares obliviously.

“Coffee?” Jisung suddenly blurts out, eyes blinking back up to Minho’s gaze, stomach pressed into the kitchen counter.

Minho’s smile drops, hiding the smirk that lay dormantly a few seconds ago, watching Jisung look directly back at him, barely realizing the tension settled between them. “We can’t leave when you’re basically naked, Jisung.”

The younger leans away from the counter suddenly, eyes peering down at his bare legs and stomach, almost forgetting that he was basically naked with his boxers stuck to his waist. Jisung then looks back up at Minho, almost embarrassed, but Minho smiles at him almost instantly. With a sigh and quick steps, Jisung races towards his closet, built into the wall near his bed with dark doors. Minho watches curiously, Jisung opening slightly squeaky doors while perusing through hung shirts before pulling one free from its hanger.

“Did you want to borrow clothes from me?” Jisung peaks around his open closet door, watching Minho shrug.

“If you lend me a hoodie, I can just wear my jeans from last night.”

Jisung nods, focusing back into his closet as his hands move through a selection of hoodies he so apparently had, pulling two out and into view of Minho’s gaze. One hoodie was black with subtle and intentional rips within the fabric, while the other was gray with a familiar sport logo embroidered off-center near the shoulder.

“I’ll wear the gray one.” Minho points to Jisung’s left hand, watching the younger drop the item of clothing onto his unmade and messy bed.

“Did you need to take a shower?” Minho asks quietly, eyes drifting from the hoodie and towards Jisung’s side, unable to see his gaze when the younger moves back to look through his swarm of clothes.

“Yeah, actually.” Jisung laughs casually, peaking back around. “I probably smell like sweat and sex.”

“You and me both.” Minho watches Jisung’s wheels turn in his mind, and for a second he swears he sees the lightbulb turn on just above the younger’s head.

“Do you want to join me?”

Minho nearly chokes on his spit. “I-In the shower?”

“Why not?” Jisung finally tosses his own clothes onto the bed, shutting the closet doors softly. “You’ve already seen me naked, hyung.”

“Suit yourself.” Minho stands from the stool, hand raking through his hair as he watches Jisung approach, lips curved with a subtle smile. Minho hates how attractive the younger was, always gleaming with a soft redness tinged to his cheeks. His smile was adorable, in an attractive sense, one that Minho can’t help but fall smitten for nearly every time.

Jisung’s black hair was fluffy enough, but Minho could tell he still had bed-head, some locks curled and others dried with sweat, either way, Minho was feeling something burn in his stomach for the younger. Jisung’s doe eyes capture Minho’s whole-heartedly, and Minho swears for a second that he’d do anything for the male.

“Come on.” Jisung coos, grabbing Minho’s hand and leading him across the apartment and into the bathroom, turning on the light before closing the door behind Minho. The bathroom is well-lit, white tiled and painted in shades of light gray and white. Jisung clearly had decorative taste, even if it was all monochromatic. Minho could appreciate how simple the younger’s aesthetic was, given it was minimalistic and modern, somehow threaded between a musician’s messy habitual lifestyle with a sprinkle of insomnia.

Jisung turns the shower on, grabbing two towels from the caddy settled in the corner, handing one off to Minho to set anywhere he’d like. Jisung sets his down on the sink, not hesitating to pull his boxers free from his waist, dropping them to the floor without worry. Minho’s eyes accidentally travel towards Jisung’s bare ass, tongue drifting over his bottom lip sinfully, feeling a tinge of interest settle below the hem of his own boxers.

The sound of the shower turning on knocks Minho’s gaze away from Jisung’s body, his own hands dropping his opened shirt back onto the floor before reaching for his boxers, hesitating for a second the minute Jisung turns to look at him.

“It takes a minute to warm up.” Jisung timidly smiles, suddenly shy and avoiding Minho’s gaze.

Minho doesn’t know what he’s doing. Jisung is standing in front of him, exposed and shy, yet something inside of Minho wants to reach out and touch him. They just agreed on being friends with benefits, or something similar, and now that Minho was thinking with his dick and not his brain, he suddenly feels the need to rush forward and kiss the breath from Jisung’s lips.

So he does exactly that, dropping his boxers to the floor and pushing forward, capturing Jisung’s jaw in his hands and pressing a longing kiss to his lips hurriedly and without thinking, unafraid of rejection or bad reactions. Jisung does neither, sinking into the kiss with a hum of surprise. Minho’s needy hands pull Jisung into him, lowering from his jawline to his waist, listening to the shower rain down behind them.

Jisung’s hands suddenly move behind him, reaching for the shower door, swinging it open and detaching himself from Minho’s lips. He was flushed, either from the rising temperature within the enclosed space or his longing desire to feel Minho. The elder follows devotedly, watching Jisung walk into the shower blindly back first, colliding with the wall in wait for Minho to press right up against him.

The door closes and Minho rushes to meet Jisung’s lips again, water trailing through his hair and down his back, hand sneakily reaching down to greet the flesh between the younger’s thighs. Jisung groans against Minho’s lips, a smile pulled at the edges as he feels Minho’s hand wrap around him.

Minho isn’t sure how beneficial this was, but he was horny and Jisung was here, pressed against him with an aching urge to feel him. He knew he couldn’t get attached, there shouldn’t be any feelings involved. But Jisung felt small in his hands, always pliant and willing, eyes blinking up at him as if Minho held the whole universe in his hands. Minho can’t help how much he likes Jisung, but he knows that this is purely just sex. There should be nothing more to think about, but Minho’s head is dizzying and Jisung’s lips are intoxicating. He just wants Jisung to feel good, and he focuses on that, letting his fleeting feelings drown with the flow of the water.

“Minho-” Jisung breathes for a moment, tilting his jaw to let Minho kiss away at his wet skin, biting at his jawline and earlobe. “Please.”

The begging pleas somehow always gets to Minho, humble nerves struck in his core as he feels something new twist in his stomach. An urge to want to hear more from Jisung, something hidden beneath a careful cloak that he’s barely spent time investigating beneath. Minho is incredibly hungry for the younger now, listening to Jisung fall apart at his hands, muffled beneath the hush of slotted, searching lips.

“Hyung-” Jisung chokes out, a hand reaching up to search through Minho’s hair, softly tugging at his auburn locks in a fistfull, doing his best to ground himself from the waves of lust coursing through his veins.

Minho now realizes that he likes the begging more than he thought he did. Jisung was growing impatient, but Minho barely notices as he devotedly listens to the quick hushes of please, please, please ring through the shower.

“Okay, okay.” Minho hushes, kissing Jisung’s lips once more.

Minho’s hand slows, unwrapping itself from Jisung, and Minho’s spine chills at the hiss the younger lets through his teeth at the loss. Minho kisses his cheek, hand reaching for Jisung’s thigh to hoist it around his leg, scooting closer and flush against the younger’s trembling body.

Jisung is aching with temptation. He wants Minho in a way he wants air. But, Minho was taking his painstakingly sweet time.

Jisung is desperate for his new found beneficial relationship in more than one way, just wanting Minho to get on with it. He didn’t know how much hot water they had left, given that the first five minutes were spent on touching and bringing Jisung to near tears. Now Jisung was pliant, succumbing to every desire Minho had, leg wrapped around the elder’s waist lustfully.

“Ji, I don’t have anything-” Minho rushes out in a hushed breath, but Jisung is quick to distract him with a surging kiss. It distracts Minho enough, nearly complying until Jisung breaks from the kiss, muttering one final plea.

“Please.”

Minho obliges, finally giving into Jisung’s wishes. The intrusion brings wordless breaths through their lips collectively, melting past one another while the warm water beats down on their skin. Jisung’s hands find Minho’s back, dragging sinful lines down his skin and Minho groans.

Being marked was never something he openly admitted to liking, but Jisung’s touches and his whines could entice Minho to like anything. That’s just the effect Jisung had on him.

The encounter lasts several minutes, leaving Jisung coated in hickeys and begging for mercy. Minho is dutifully checking on Jisung throughout, making sure that his only standing leg wasn’t going to give out, hand wrapped protectively under his raised thigh with his lips glued to Jisung’s naked skin. The moment the water drops from hot to warm, they’re both nearing the same ending, muttering quiet words to one another in assurance. Then it happens, leaving both males breathless under the flow of water. Minho gently removes himself, placing Jisung’s leg down carefully after making sure he could stand.

“I hate how good you are at that.” Jisung moves his hand to wipe strands of hair out of Minho’s gaze, wet locks stuck to his forehead now freed.

“I’m sure you do.” Minho breathes calmingly, chest heaving up and down as his high travels through his body.

“Should we actually shower now?” Jisung smiles up at him, almost breathless, eyelashes batting and tempting, leaving Minho no room to disagree.

“Yes. Then I’ll buy you coffee.”

“You didn’t forget?” Jisung reaches for a shampoo bottle, fingers opening the cap with a sharp snap.

“Sex doesn’t make me stupid, Ji.” Minho shrugs. “Besides, it’s an excuse for me to take you out so we can actually get to know each other.”

“Right,” Jisung rolls his eyes playfully. “Turn around so I can wash your hair.”

“And now you’re taking care of me?” Minho turns around despite his apparent resistance, feeling Jisung almost immediately thread his hands through his hair, coated in a light layer of shampoo that he must’ve squeezed on his hands when Minho didn’t notice.

“Shut up and let me take care of you, hyung.” Jisung kisses his shoulder. “You took care of me a lot the last twenty-four hours. I wanna repay the favor.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to. We’re friends now, right hyung?”

“Right.” Minho swallows, eyes blinking back into reality from his euphotic fantasy filled with feelings that he now realizes are surely unrequited. “We’re friends.”

Jisung hums affirmingly, wrapping an arm around Minho’s stomach as he presses one more kiss to Minho’s shoulder. “Besides, I like taking care of you.”

Minho’s heart sinks. But he breathes calmingly, feeling Jisung resume washing his own hair until he gently guides him back under the water, letting the lathered soap rinse through his hair and down his back, eventually leading towards the drain to sift between the metal grate and disappearing into the pipes. Minho somehow feels like his heart drains there too, leaving his feelings to flush away and leave him thoughtless, focusing on how Jisung handles his body with care. He does the same for Jisung, washing his hair and lathering his body, pressing subtle kisses to his jaw and ears, hoping that this sinking feeling within the pit of his stomach dissipates with the stream from the shower.

It’s another forty-five minutes before the pair finds themselves nestled in a small coffee shop just down the street, sitting across from each other on a table inside, listening to quiet music fill the warm atmosphere with subtle yellow lighting. Big windows illuminate a majority of the space, filled with quiet circular tables of studying patrons, silently sipping on their caffeinated beverages of choice as they try to get work done.

Jisung held a mug between his hands, a smile plastered on his face as he laughed at Minho quietly. Minho rolls his eyes, one hand busy with a lidded americano that was half-way empty.

“Chris has always been like that.” Minho sighs. “He’s like a father figure, in a way. He’s always pulling Hyunjin out of some stupid shit.”

“Was he like that in college too?”

“Interestingly enough, no. He started being like that after we graduated. He was worried, I mean, he did find Hyunjin and I passed out on his couch with no explanation.”

“Seungmin is actually like that, too. He’s always watching out for me.”

“But were you found passed out on his couch after a night out?” Minho interrogates, taking a sip of his americano.

“No,” Jisung scoffs. “I’m just a bit irresponsible.”

“That sounds like you.” Minho sets his drink down, watching a curious brow raise on Jisung’s expression.

“How so?”

“I mean, from what you’ve told me, you don’t have a set schedule, you rarely eat and you don’t set time aside for yourself.”

Jisung takes a breath, only mildly bothered by the idea that Minho had him so figured out already. Minho was perceptive, picking up on the little things that Jisung enjoyed, especially during sex, and somehow Jisung really liked that about Minho. It was almost like he never had to explain himself and could just want what he wanted without the fear of judgment.

“You’re really good at seeing through me, hyung.”

“I don’t mean anything by it,” Minho rushes to soothe, but Jisung smiles and waves his hand.

“No, no. It’s okay! Really. But, you seem to know a lot about me and I don’t really know anything about you.”

“Well-” Minho wraps his hands around his drink, fingers tapping the sides of it nervously. “What do you want to know?”

Chapter Text

“Well,” Jisung pauses, hands on his mug carefully, eyes focused on his trailing fingers that slightly dance around the ceramic cup in his grasp. “I want to know what you like to do, your hobbies, your favorite color, your favorite song-”

“My favorite color?” Minho raises a brow almost unenthusiastically, and Jisung immediately rushes to defend his choice of words.

“We can’t forget the friends part of being. .  y’know.” The label on their relationship wasn’t something he wanted to openly admit to the public around him, not that anyone would be listening to two bickering males who were interested enough in each other, especially when they had coffee in their hands in an innocent enough shop.

“You act like what we are is the devil itself.” Minho sighs, watching Jisung recoil in his seat dramatically.

“You’re acting like it’s okay to just throw the term around.” Jisung raises his brow, leaning forwards with his elbows on the wooden table. “Also, it’s no one else’s business. I don’t like people knowing intimate things about me.”

“Is that right?” Minho’s lips raise into a smirk, hand held around his cup, tilting the drink towards his lips as he watches Jisung’s face fall in realization.

“NO! No. Not like that, idiot.” The younger’s expression is coated in redness, and Minho can’t help but giggle.

“Okay, okay, enough back tracking.” Minho sets his cup back down, watching Jisung lean back into his chair. “My favorite color is anything monochromatic. Black, or white, just anything like that.”

“That. . . sounds a lot like you.” Jisung smiles, but Minho doesn’t ask as to why Jisung thought that.

“What’s yours?”

“Red.” Jisung watches Minho nod his head, eyes avoiding him.

“And that sounds exactly like you.”

“See? We’re great friends already.”

Minho smiles, teeth grasping the inside of his cheek. He hated how warm he felt around Jisung, but there was just something around the younger that Minho couldn’t resist feeling a magnetic pull towards. It was like an electric current, strong and willing, always dragging Minho’s attention back towards him as if he were a light in barren darkness. He really did hate how it felt, but didn’t bother to store away any of the feelings that rose with the beat of his heart. “And my hobby? Well, I told you that. I dance a lot in my free time and I enjoy working out. Otherwise, I’m a foodie, I like to cook on days I’m not absolutely exhausted from my job. I also have three cats that I really enjoy taking care of, so-”

“You have three cats?” Jisung’s intrigued. Minho looks upwards after subconsciously looking down at his hands while rambling, a subtle smile hinted on his lips as he watches Jisung seemingly internally scream with excitement from the idea of Minho having three furry creatures living at his apartment.

“Yeah. They’re all rescues and I really like having them around. They’re quiet and actually really affectionate, but they can be picky with certain people. They don’t like Chan or Hyunjin much, though.”

“Can I meet them?” Jisung almost rushes, slightly cringing at himself at the haste associated with his own tone.

“I mean, if you want to. Don’t be surprised if they hate you or hide the entire time. They can be really skittish with new people.”

“That’s okay. I just can’t believe you have cats.”

“Am I not the type, or?”

“Not really,” Jisung smiles at him. “It makes you seem a lot softer than your exterior. You have a brooding aura about you, you know that right? You’re really intimidating.”

“I know that. It’s on purpose.”

“Oh.” Jisung sinks into his chair slightly, almost a bit dejected.

“I do that because I get hit on a lot at the bar. Not saying that I didn’t want you to hit on me or anything, by the way, but it just happens a lot so I just try to make myself unapproachable.”

“Yeah, it makes sense.”

“But, besides your musical genius, what do you do?” Minho takes another sip of his coffee, tapping his cup with his finger as he feels the drink near the bottom. He didn’t realize he had drunk almost the entire cup, but he was also surprised at the fact that he was not feeling the buzz of the caffeine yet.

“I read sometimes or play video games. Most of the time I’m writing lyrics, composing, or just playing on my guitar. I try to go out, like I’ve told you, but I really don’t have much time to myself.”

“I’m glad you made time for me,” Minho slightly smiles at him, watching Jisung’s cheek tint with subtle redness again.

“I wanted to get to know you better. I’m glad you opened up a bit, so, thanks for sharing stuff with me.”

“Spending this time with you like this has been nice.” Minho settles on after a moment of thinking, leaning forward in his chair slightly, fingers wrapping around his cup. “Speaking of my cats though, I do have to get home and check on them. But I promise that I will call you, alright?”

“I’ll hold you to that, Minho.” Jisung winks at him playfully, watching the elder snicker and bite back a smile.

“Alright. Oh shit,” Minho looks down, pointing to the hoodie on his chest. “I still have your hoodie on.”

“And I have your button up at my apartment. We’re even, and plus, you can’t forget about me when you have that on. So now you really have to call me.”

“As if I’d forget you.” Minho flirts sneakily, causing Jisung to twitch in his seat in slight shock.

Minho rises from his chair, grabbing his nearly empty cup with his gaze trained on Jisung.

“I’ll talk to you soon, ‘kay?”

“Yeah. See you.” Jisung smiles, watching the elder leave after throwing away his empty cup without another word or another glance.

He hates that he feels immediate loneliness stir in his stomach, wanting to run after Minho and go visit his apartment, but that also feels as if it’d be too much too fast. He was confused, as one should be, only being fucking “friends with benefits” with a guy like Minho. He knew he had no room in his schedule for a committed relationship, not when he can barely pay any attention to himself or his disgraceful apartment. Felix would surely give him an earful if he added anything more to his plate just to send him into a further state of depression and suffering. But that was an issue for another time.

For now, he could just enjoy having a sexual partner, putting all of his energy into his music and making money, saving and saving until he could move the hell out of his shitty apartment. That was his only goal, surely. It had to be. There was no room for feelings, no room for commitment, no room for anything else but himself. Yeah, it was selfish, but he spent so long being someone else’s punching bag that it was time he focused on himself only. Seungmin was the one who forced that lifestyle on him two years ago, and since then, he has refused to return back to his people-pleasing habits.

But as he sits in the quiet cafe, sipping away at his luke-warm coffee that tastes slightly like they added too much cinnamon, he finds himself unable to stop thinking about Minho. He crafted a connection with probably one of the hottest bartenders in Seoul, not to mention that he’s a fucking dancer and liked Jisung enough to have sex with him not once, but twice. As a cherry on top to his seriously messed up cake, Minho wanted to see him again.

That thought would ruin him for the week.

Seriously, Jisung thinks, what the fuck am I getting myself into?

The week passes without word or an ounce of intimacy, leaving Jisung back where he was, glued to his desk chair with his eyes stuck on his computer monitor. He was leaning into hour eight of working on this same track, constantly flipping through previous notes and strings, working through the rut he felt himself stay stuck in ever since he met Minho.

Jisung didn’t want to bother the elder by any means, knowing that he worked late during the weekdays, but also because he didn’t want to seem so eager about hooking up with him again. If he had to be honest with himself, he did want to see Minho again. However, he was never the clingy type to begin with, and he really did not want to be seen as a fling.

Flings tend to have endings, and Jisung didn't necessarily want any of what they were doing to stop. It was a fleeting hope, especially since Jisung hadn’t heard from Minho since he left the cafe a few days ago, but he just had to assume that he was simply busy.

So he continues to occupy himself, throwing the trash from his mediocre lunch off onto the couch, dirtying his space once again, but not to the extent that it was before his friends helped him clean. He was grateful that Seungmin and Felix cared about him enough to keep him from diving back into unpleasant habits, but whenever they were not around, he fell right back into his routine without fail.

But, as always, something was prone to interrupt his quiet time. His eyes shoot towards his vibrating phone, dreadful and looming with regret as he glances at the name appearing on screen, succumbing to the pressure of answering versus not answering. So, he grabs his phone, tilting it towards his ear as he answers the call unenthusiastically.

“Felix? What’s up?”

“Hey! Are you busy?”

“Kind of. Just working like usual.”

“Sorry to bug you, but I’m like two minutes away from your apartment. Can I bother you with my company for a bit?”

“Oh! I mean, yeah. I can leave the door open for you.”

“Thanks, Ji. I’m bringing coffee as a gift, too.”

“God, what are you? An angel?”

“Just someone who cares about you. See you soon.”

“See you.” Jisung hangs up the call, placing his phone flat on his desk as he spins around in his chair, rising from his seat as he strolls towards his front door. Felix didn’t normally swing by without reason, so the thought of something possibly being wrong drives Jisung slightly crazy. He was worried, but only slightly, trying to not let it overtake his sudden happiness to see his friend on a random weekday. Though, it would conflict with his will to keep working, and he really needed to release this track before rent was due.

However, he had been having issues with this track long before this, choosing to work on anything else before trying to finish this track in question. It wasn’t a bad song by any means, and what was different about it was that it wasn’t a remix, it was something Jisung was trying to produce by himself. It was melodic with a bounce and hip-hop tunes, but it screamed for lyrics that Jisung nearly refused to write. Something about happiness radiated through the tone, but he could not be fucked to bother writing lyrics when he’s hardly happy about anything.

Sure enough, two minutes pass and Felix is at Jisung’s door, waiting for his friend to swing the door open as he stands with two coffees in his hand.

“Lix,” Jisung smiles, standing to the side to let his blonde friend inside.

“Sorry to interrupt your work. I got out early and I just needed to talk to someone,” Felix sighs, walking into Jisung’s apartment. Jisung closes the door, turning to follow Felix’s trek into his home, watching him set down each drink on the kitchen island before turning around, a once friendly face now simmering with dejected hope.

“Hey, what happened? Is it Hyunjin?”

“Yeah.” Felix’s gaze drops, hands finding each other in anxious touches.

“Come on, let’s go sit. Tell me everything.” Jisung waves for Felix to follow him, hand being held out as Felix turns to grab Jisung’s coffee, handing over the caffeinated drink before following closely until they arrive at Jisung’s bed. Felix settles down, coffee in hand, eyes blinking as he tries to understand his own actions.

Jisung sits down next to him, taking a sip of his coffee with a surprised hum, noticing that Felix had bought him exactly what he usually ordered.

“Did you remember my entire coffee order from years ago?”

“Yeah,” Felix smiles at him. “We are best friends, silly.”

“I know,” Jisung rolls his eyes. “I’m just surprised, is all. But, uh, thank you, for this.”

“Don’t thank me yet-” Felix takes a drink of his own coffee. “There’s a shit storm brewing in my life right now.”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

This all started a year ago. Felix had met Hyunjin at a local club when he was visiting with his other friends, drinking and dancing the weekend away to relieve himself of the stress of applying for new jobs. Felix had a fashion degree, doing his best to work at some sort of company that sold magazines or made clothes, but every job he applied for had rejected him outright. He didn’t have enough experience, or he didn’t have enough concise ways of writing an advertisement, blah, blah, blah. It was all shit Felix had heard before, but he never gave up trying.

However, he did need some time to relax. He was caught up in the stress of being rejected time after time, so he begged his university friends to drag him out to some nightclub, listening to them continuously order drink after drink on their tab just for him. Jeongin and Changbin were something else, but he had no room to argue. Jeongin was in the same boat as him, but was looking to model instead, giving up on his dreams to design anything. Changbin was a hopeless producer just like Jisung, and Felix thought to introduce the two, but never got around to it before Changbin moved across the city.

Felix was about five drinks in, dancing around in the crowd of men and women, chatting up anyone who approached him, but never thinking anything more into their intentions as he decided to ignore their advances and continue dancing around with his friends.

The minute a long haired, taller male approached with puffed lips and smudged eyeliner, Felix found himself intrigued. Hyunjin was sweet and intoxicating, doused in cologne and wearing a very revealing top with ripped denim jeans. He was covered in jewelry pieces, fingers wrapped in silver rings and neck holding at least three different necklaces, a few piercings dangling from his ears evenly. Felix was in a trance, bowing to Hyunjin’s every will and move, grinding filthily against him and leaving teasing kisses against the elder’s jaw.

Hyunjin and Felix went home together that night, feeling and tasting one another through the night until exhaustion pulls over them when the sun rises. They agreed to keep seeing one another, settling into a relationship that was both loving and intimate, but it was fast and falling, leaving Felix with unrequited feelings that Hyunjin failed to reciprocate. Felix gave him chance after chance, falling into a loop of arguments and make-up sex, which only spurred a toxic relationship.

Felix refused to let go, trying to remain friends with Hyunjin, but he always found himself crying over Hyunjin’s instagram posts with other men and women, forming insecurities about himself with the standard of being unloved and only useful for his body and nothing more. The fear was only rooted deeper when his new job only started using him for columns and never crediting him for them, so he leaves that job too and ends up sleeping on Jisung’s couch for weeks at a time.

Jisung never asked him to leave and really insisted on him staying, watching movies and cheering him up, doing his best to help Felix through whatever depressive episode he was in.

Admittedly, Felix did miss Hyunjin. Three months ago, Felix did call it quits with Hyunjin, claiming that he wasn’t capable of some sort of friends with benefits type of relationship, keeping his heart isolated from any more pain that came from its source. Hyunjin didn’t seem to object, but would come crawling back two weeks later and Felix would let him.

The pattern continued, and Felix barely tried to stop it, falling further and further into a worse habit than Jisung’s insomniac work schedule.

“So, this time, after the club, he told me that he actually had feelings for me. I didn’t know how to respond. It’s been a month of this shit, and I don’t know if I still feel the same.”

“Did you sleep with him recently?” Jisung asks, watching Felix roll his eyes to turn his gaze away. “Felix. Seriously?”

“I did, Ji. But you took home, what’s his name? Minho? Didn’t you?”

“Yeah I did. But, that’s really not the point here. Why would you sleep with him again?”

“I was drunk and he was there and he insisted on coming back with me.” Felix shrugs. “I really wanted to be close to someone and I like how he makes me feel.”

“But do you still like him? Or do you just like sleeping with him?”

“God, Jisung.” Felix turns to look at him again, pouting and clearly confused. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I can help you get your mind off of it. Only if you want me to.”

“Anything. Please.” Felix takes another drink of his coffee.

“Well, I did bring Minho back here.” Jisung’s fingers tap the side of his coffee as he stares into it, feeling Felix’s eyes trail back towards him. “He told me he used to date Seungmin. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” Felix’s brows pinch together in confusion. “He just told me that his ex was an asshole.”

“He told me that too. But, I’m not sure if said asshole was Minho. I hope not, I really don’t want to be banging his shitty ex.”

“Oh god, you knew he was Seungmin’s ex and you still had sex with him?”

“Well. . . when you put it like that-”

“Jisung.” Felix drawls, closing his eyes with disappointment lingering in his tone.

“I was drunk! And he offered. . well, I guess that’s not technically true.”

“What part of it?” Felix looks up at him again, head slightly tilted to the side.

“I was drunk the first time.” Jisung squints, feeling Felix basically stare a hole into the side of his head.

“There was a second time?”

“I wanted to take a shower and he decided to join me. So sue me. I wanted to have sex with him again.”

“I guess we gotta find out what happened with Seungmin or what his past is. I don’t think we should tell Seungmin that you slept with him, yet.”

“I really didn’t plan on telling him, besides-” Jisung bites his tongue for a moment, pondering the possibility of telling Seungmin the truth, but his brows furrow the second he imagines it. “Do you honestly think he’d care?”

“He will.” Felix deadpans.

“Ah, fuck.” Jisung closes his eyes.

“We’re both a mess.” Felix chuckles quietly, taking another sip.

“Yeah.” Jisung wants to keep his relationship with Minho a secret, but the thought of hiding his life from Seungmin and Felix makes his skin crawl, so he decides to keep spilling his secrets, hoping to distract his friend from whatever traumatizing relationship he had with Hyunjin. “Minho and I are friends with benefits, I guess. Or whatever you want to call it.”

“Oh, that’s even worse.”

“I’m not gonna tell Minnie, alright? Plus, Minho hasn’t even called me. It’s been about a week, so who knows? I might never see him again.”

“Do you want to see him again at least?” Felix asks curiously, and Jisung smiles subtly.

“I do. He’s actually really sweet. That’s partially the reason why I can’t imagine he’s Seungmin’s ex. Given I don’t know too much about him, but the guy has three cats. I don’t think anyone who has three cats is an asshole. He’s rescued all of them too, so that's an even bigger green flag there.”

“He doesn’t sound like an asshole, but who knows? It was like two years ago, so, people change.”

“Did Hyunjin change?” Jisung asks without thinking and he instantly recoils at the words that tumbled from his tongue. Somehow, Felix doesn’t seem bothered by the question and answers anyways.

“No, he’s still mostly the same. Just maybe a bit more attentive than usual.”

“Well,” Jisung sets his coffee down on the floor, off to the right and a couple inches from his feet, leaning back into his mattress. “Sounds like we have shitty lovers, then.”

“We do.” Felix follows suit, setting down his drink and leaning backwards, settled next to Jisung as they both stare aimlessly into his badly painted ceiling. “You should call him.”

“Call who?” Jisung’s head turns towards Felix, gaze trained in confusion.

“Minho. You like him, and I can tell that you miss him.”

“How?” Jisung watches Felix start to laugh, eyes avoiding him still.

“You talked about the guy as if he was sent from God himself, and you really would not shut up about his cats.”

“I talked about him for like. . . a minute, at most. What makes you think I miss him?”

“You have a certain brightness in your eyes when you talk about him.” Felix turns towards him finally, expression suddenly unreadable. “I used to have that when I talked about Hyunjin.”

“Lix,” Jisung frowns, but Felix smiles at him.

“Go call him. I need a moment to think about my own damn feelings, alright? Then you can come back and we can watch a movie and we can ignore our love lives for a bit.”

“Are you sure? You look really sad right now and I don’t wanna leave you alone-”

“I’m fine. Let me be a sad puppy for a minute. Go get your man, please.”

“He’s not my man,” Jisung laughs, gently shoving Felix’s arm. “But alright. Fine. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Jisung rises from the bed, pushing himself off and trudging towards his desk, grabbing his face down phone as he strolls towards the front door of his apartment and steps outside, making sure the door was barely cracked open. The hall is empty, riddled with closed doors and quiet. Jisung hates to be the neighbor that talks outside of his apartment at random hours of the day, but Felix was insistent that he calls, so he does exactly that.

The line rings painfully long, and Jisung practically debates on hanging up until it stops ringing, and a deep voice smoothes through the speaker of his phone.

“Hello?”

“Minho?”

“Jisung?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s me, sorry to bother you.”

“No, it’s okay actually. I’m headed into work at the moment, though. What’s up?”

“I just haven’t heard from you. I was a little worried.”

“I’m sorry, Jisung. I’ve been working a bit more because someone else called off so I’ve been doing doubles recently. I just haven’t had time to do anything except sleep, eat, and work.”

“I’m sorry. Do you have time off soon?”

“I have tomorrow off, thankfully. I really could use the sleep.”

“I’d offer to come over and distract you, but I wouldn’t want to impose on your rest at all.”

“No, no. I want company. Chan has been bugging me all week to go drink with him and Hyunjin again, but I really cannot be asked to. I’d like to sit at home and relax-” Minho cuts himself off briefly, almost stuck on whatever he was going to say. Jisung remains patient, waiting for whatever time Minho needs to process his thoughts. “Did you want to come over tonight?”

“Yeah, yeah! Sure. What time?”

“I get off at eleven again, the usual. I can send you the address if you want.”

“Sure. I’ll be there. Take it easy at work, hyung.”

“I’ll do my best. See you later, Jisung.”

“Yeah.” Jisung smiles, hanging up the phone before staring out into the hall without thought, lingering on the idea of seeing Minho later. He was excited, and possibly a bit flustered, but somewhere inside of him he’s thankful he called.

Jisung opens the door again, closing it behind him once he steps inside, phone shoved into the depth of his pocket as he strolls towards the bed, eyeing Felix who was staring at his phone without an expression.

“What did your phone ever do to you to warrant that kind of stare?”

“Hyunjin texted me.” Felix tosses his phone off somewhere onto the bed, hands reaching up towards his face as he hides his eyes, avoiding the certain judgment from Jisung that lay waiting for him.

“What did he say?”

“He wants to see me tomorrow.” Felix mumbles against his hands, now suddenly dragging them down his skin, fighting off any type of anger or resentment that lay within his gaze.

“Did you say yes?”

“I didn’t say anything yet.” Felix turns to look at Jisung, thankful that all Jisung’s eyes held was concern with no ounce of judgment waiting for him.

“I’m not gonna tell you yes or no.” Jisung sits down on the bed next to him, reaching for Felix’s phone to set it down gently on his stomach. “Just do what feels right. Don’t force it.”

“Okay.” Felix smiles at Jisung, holding his arms up and spread out, hands waving in grabbing motions. Jisung smiles back, leaning down and giving into Felix’s need for a hug, letting his friend embrace his body gently. Jisung doesn’t hug his friends often, especially in this context, but Felix was his closest friend and looked like he really needed someone right now. Jisung wasn’t going to deny him that.

“Ready to watch a movie?” Felix mumbles.

“Yeah. Your pick.”

“Fine.” Felix sighs, gently pushing Jisung off of him to sit upright, placing his phone tentatively into his pocket without a sparing glance.

They spring onto their feet, walking towards the couch that Felix willingly scolds Jisung for, noticing the garbage almost immediately, berating his friend for his laziness. Jisung apologizes over and over again, cleaning the couch of every last wrapper and crumb before Felix sits down willingly, grabbing for the remote. Jisung cleans up their nearly empty coffee cups, snagging water bottles from his fridge before handing one off to Felix, sitting down on the couch next to him with his eyes trained to his television. It’s only then that Jisung notices his computer was still on, humming silently with glowing LEDs around his tower’s fans. His music program was still open, still stuck on the same frame of music he had been staring at all morning to no avail. Felix barely pays attention and Jisung is thankful, almost unaware of the track’s title nearly highlighted near the top. Want So Bad.

Jisung doesn’t want to think about it. Not now, not really ever. It’s too upbeat and too happy, everything he really wasn’t right now. So maybe he needs a muse. Maybe he needs someone to control that part of his brain to give him motivation, but it all feels meaningless.

Felix picks a movie without issue, leaning into the couch with a huffed sigh of contempt, listening carefully to the movie’s soundtrack as it plays. Jisung was partially distracted, more so by the idea of seeing his overly attractive friend later instead of the unforgiving music track. He almost wants to text Minho, but he chooses not to. He’d come off as too keen; too eager. There’s no way he could keep Minho interested in him if he all of the sudden turns needy.

It’s only then that he reminds himself that he really does not need a boyfriend, and he explicitly told Minho that. Minho agreed with his sentiment, so he knew that their feelings were somewhat mutual, and the sex was great. That was all there was to it. Just friends, getting each other off, and remaining just friends.

Somehow Jisung was okay with that, but there was a better part of his conscience that was rooted with something different, laced with wanting and hope. Jisung chooses to ignore it nonetheless.

“I texted him back,” Felix sighs once the movie was over and the credits rolled past, leaving Jisung to turn towards him expectantly. “I asked him if we could talk before we continued any kind of relationship.”

“So it wasn’t a yes, and it wasn’t a no.” Jisung nods. “That’s good. It’s a gray area.”

“Yeah.” Felix turns towards him, a soft smile curling on his lips. “I hope he and I can figure it out.”

“Oh?” Jisung grins, watching Felix blink down at his hands, toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Thank you for listening to me.”

“Of course.” Jisung nods his head at him. “I’m always here to listen to you.”

“You’re going to visit Minho soon, right?” Felix asks softly, watching Jisung hum yes in return. “Be careful. Don’t get caught up in feelings you don’t want, Ji. Don’t let what happened to me happen to you.”

“Nah,” Jisung leans into his couch a bit more, relaxed and stern with his decision. “We have an agreement to have no feelings involved. We’ll be alright. It’s just sex.”

“Is it?” Felix watches Jisung’s body grow rigid, and he suddenly regrets pressing a sensitive topic.

“I-It is.” Jisung affirms, a slight hesitance radiating in his tone.

“Okay. I trust you.” Felix rises from his couch, smiling down at his friend. “Just be safe, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Call me if you need me tomorrow.” Jisung’s head turns to follow Felix as he strides towards the front door, putting his shoes back on and reaching for his keys from the kitchen island.

“Bye!” Felix waves, heading out the door after Jisung replies right back with the same sentiment.

Once the door closes, Jisung turns back around on the couch, eyes staring at his computer monitors that rest openly, still showing the same track that he had been mentally avoiding the last few hours. He just wanted to see Minho, and he could finally admit that to himself.

Maybe it was all he needed to mentally reset himself. Yeah. Surely that was all he needed.

Chapter Text

Jisung was nervous. Something about Minho made the younger worry about his appearance and the way he carried himself, almost scared that the elder would turn him away based on his habits and lazy lifestyle. Jisung didn’t know anyone who wanted to have relations with an insomniac who produced music until he could barely keep his eyes open, and ate the same take out several times a week; but his last boyfriend would disagree.

Dating his ex was an experience, to say the least. It was blissful at first, given that their relationship started during Jisung’s prime time in college, so naturally everything was great when you were under the influence of soju and weed. Jisung wasn’t the same person he is now, always partying, drinking every weekend, showing up to class but slacking off, doing his best to indulge in his younger years before adulthood grabbed him by the throat. His ex liked him like that; encouraged it, rather. Mainly because he was the same way.

He was a dancer. He had strong thighs, a muscular torso, veiny arms and hands, but had a love for partying. It might be obvious that Jisung has a type by now, considering Minho is nearly the same as his ex, he just chooses not to think about that. His ex, Seojun, was everything to him. They dated for eight months, and loved each other for six. Jisung still loves him.

He’s not emotionally unavailable for Minho, he just doesn’t want to get tossed to the side again. His past is his past, Jisung knows that, but he hates how Seojun had a grip on him, claws embedded into his heart and soul, and it was a hold Jisung was unsure if he wanted to let go of.

With Minho, Jisung felt oddly calm and safe, wondering why the elder’s smile and his laughter always brought out his own; it was insatiable. That’s part of the reason why Jisung so readily agreed to meet Minho at his apartment close to midnight, walking down the sidewalk in downtown Seoul without another care in the world.

He really doesn’t do this type of thing. He doesn’t go to another male’s home without the promise of sex or alcohol or something to get the antisocial insomniac to free himself from the clutches of his freelance work. Felix and Seungmin alone struggled to get Jisung to escape and take a breath of fresh air, so the fact that Minho could do that with one simple question, that alone made Jisung nervous.

He hates how Minho makes him feel. He feels like everything is so easy, so unnerving; Minho just had that aura around him. Minho was kind and open, working hard to keep himself afloat while also keeping his body physically fit and his mind mentally sound. Jisung couldn’t be fucked to do any of that. He was too tired, too busy; it was too much to ask of him. He wanted to do those things and incorporate better habits for himself, but he’s never found the motivation to. Music was his everything now, especially since his love life is about as active as a graveyard, struggling to produce his first love song in months. He didn’t want to admit it, but he used to write his love songs about Seojun. Now, without a muse and without purpose, he finds himself stuck.

But, everytime Minho is around, Jisung finds his heart fluttering. It’s a stupid, wavering crush. One that budded from the lingering taste of alcohol and induced by Felix’s stupid antics, but hey, it got him laid and found him a new friend. He couldn’t be that mad about it, especially not if he was looking forward to seeing Minho again in the first place.

He approaches the apartment complex, walking up the stairs and searching for room 302, walking along a long drag of a hall until the door appears on his left. He isn’t sure why his stomach is in his throat or why his hands are suddenly clammy, but he takes a breath and knocks on the door, shifting in his stance by leaning from foot to foot as he waits for the door to open.

“Jisung-” Minho nearly whips the door open, a baggy hoodie hanging from his torso with joggers covering his legs. The outfit isn’t form fitting at all, but Jisung feels his breath hitch the moment he imagines ripping the clothes off of the elder. “Did you walk here?”

“Yeah?” Jisung tilts his head slightly, brow raised curiously. “I don’t have a car, so-”

“Well you could’ve told me! I would’ve come to get you.” Minho steps to the side, ushering the younger into his apartment with a waving hand.

Jisung walks in and begins to shrug off his black jacket, listening to the door close and lock behind him. “It’s alright, hyung. I kind of need the exercise, plus, it gives me time to think and shit, so it’s kinda nice to walk.”

“Please don’t tell me you walked far.” Minho crosses his arms against his chest, looking slightly down at Jisung with a subtle frown.

“It was like a twenty minute walk, Minho. I’ll be alright. I have two working legs that can walk just fine.”

“I’m driving you home.” Minho deadpans, and Jisung can’t find it within himself to argue.

“Fine, fine. If it makes you feel better, then sure.” Jisung slides off his shoes and leaves them by the door, following Minho a bit further into his apartment. It was spacious and clean, organized but hinted with the idea that Minho had pets lingering somewhere. There were a few cat toys scattered around the floor here and there, but it was not even close to being disorganized chaos like Jisung’s apartment.

The apartment had white walls and high ceilings, modern furniture with wooden floors that were obviously freshly cleaned. Right off of the hall there was the entrance into the living space, which was an open concept with the kitchen. Being the end apartment must’ve been a perk for Minho because there were windows stretched along the wall, showing a view of downtown Seoul that Jisung nearly gawks at. The windows were floor the ceiling in height, uncovered with parted curtains that matched the same hue of his medium-sized couch. Minho very obviously made enough money to live here, and somehow, Jisung isn’t sure how being a bartender warrants an apartment like this. But he doesn’t bother to ask.

“D’you wanna meet the cats? They’re probably hiding and I don’t know if they’ll let you touch them.”

“Yeah, what are their names?” Jisung moves towards the couch and settles down, nervously taking in his surroundings as Minho scurries about, looking desperately for his furry friends.

“Soonie, Doongi and Dori-” Minho mutters, looking under the couch. “Normally Dori is the one hiding under the couch, but he isn’t there.”

Jisung hums in acknowledgement, eyes scanning over the living room furniture until his eyes gaze across the nearby doorway, which must’ve led to bedrooms or a bathroom. Upon further inspection, Jisung spots two, shy cat eyes staring at him from the bottom of the doorway, and all he does is blink and stare right back, unsure of how to react.

“Soonie,” Minho laughs, walking over to the terrified cat and picking him up, holding him like a baby within his arms. Soonie was an orange tabby with big eyes and a skittish personality, but also with a smaller white spot on his nose that traveled up to the middle of his face, and Jisung finds him incredibly adorable. “He’s shy, so he might run when I set him down.”

“That’s okay,” Jisung smiles, watching Minho approach with the cautious cat. “I won’t be offended.”

Minho sets Soonie down, watching as the cat curiously watches Jisung on the couch next to him, eyes blinking as he waits for the human next to him to move first. But, Jisung stays still. Soonie takes the opportunity to take a few steps closer, sniffing Jisung’s arm before turning away and stepping onto the arm of the couch. Jisung turns to look at Minho, and Minho shrugs.

“That. . . went better than I expected it to.”

“You said that none of them like your friends?”

“No,” Minho scoffs. “Hyunjin wants to squeeze them to death because he thinks he can treat them the same as his dog, and Chan just doesn’t know how to approach cats.”

“Ah,” Jisung turns to look back at Soonie, who seems to have been comfortable enough to lay down, tail gently flicking against the couch with smoother body language, eyes away from Jisung and towards the large windows.

“Now,” Minho sighs. “Where is Dori and Doongi?”

“Don’t you have cat treats or something?”

“Yeah,” Minho stops looking around and instead swivels, marching into the kitchen before stopping at his pantry door, pulling out a bag of salmon-flavored cat treats. The moment Minho began shaking the bag, Soonie immediately leapt from the couch, pacing into the kitchen with soft mews that Minho smiled at. Surely enough, two other rounds of quiet paws stride into the kitchen, meowing all the same and ignoring Jisung’s presence entirely.

“They’re so cute!” Jisung mutters quietly, turning around on the couch to watch all three of Minho’s beloved cats beg insistently for a treat.

“Dori is the brown tabby, and Doongi is the orange tabby with more white. Dori is the youngest, the maknae, if you will, but I’ve had Soonie the longest.”

“You said you rescued them all?”

“I did.” Minho crouches down to the floor, handing each meowing cat a small treat before closing the bag and smiling at all of them. “They’re all I’ve got.”

Jisung feels a sting in his chest at the comment, even though he knows Minho didn’t mean it like that. “They suit you. You’re definitely a cat dad.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Minho rises back up, placing the bag of treats back into his pantry before closing the door and cooing quiet words at his cats. He heads back towards the living room and sits down on the couch next to Jisung, but with enough space between them to make it comfortable.

Jisung wouldn’t mind if he sat closer, given that they’ve been incredibly close already, but Minho was probably offering a little space since there was no agreement on what this was besides just two friends hanging out in his apartment. Jisung wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t anticipating anything, but he appreciated Minho’s quiet gesture in the event he wasn’t in the mood.

“Do you want to watch anything?” Minho asks, reaching for the remote that rested on the nearby wooden coffee table.

“Put on whatever. I’m pretty indifferent.”

“Do you like anime?” Minho turns to face him, and Jisung has to bite back the urge to kiss him.

“Mhm.” Jisung nods, teeth holding his tongue hostage as he adjusts his sitting position, leaning back further into the couch to release the tension in his chest. Minho really did not put any effort into his appearance for their ‘hangout session’, but Jisung finds him attractive nonetheless. His hair was fluffy and perfectly parted to just barely show his eyes, shorter parts of his bangs hanging across his forehead with longer locks curled in front of his ears or tucked behind. His hair was getting longer, and Jisung really didn't want him to cut it.

“I’ll put on the one I’ve been watching then.” Minho turns away to look at the television, fingers moving automatically on the remote as he presses button after button, scrolling until he finds the show in question. Jisung watches him, curiously reading the title and sighing in relief when the male chooses one he had already seen. “Have you seen this?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s good. It’s actually one of my favorites.”

“So you don’t mind watching it again?” Minho turns back towards him, thumb hesitating on pressing the ok button if Jisung wanted to watch something else.

“No, no. Go ahead. I’d love to watch your reaction to it all.”

“If you insist,” Minho smiles, letting his thumb press down on the button to play the show. Jisung pays attention, trying to shift his eyes elsewhere other than Minho’s pretty side profile.

It’s quiet for the next forty minutes, both males intrigued by the show wordlessly, watching with quiet breaths and lingering space still between them.

Jisung wants to move over and wants to touch Minho. It’s almost one in the morning at this point and he’s feeling something close to exhaustion as his lids droop and he feels the pillow next to him beg for Jisung’s head to plop into it. He normally isn’t so tired, but given the last time he did sleep was only for three hours to pursue more effortless work, it made a lot of sense. Minho doesn’t seem tired at all. In fact, he seems wide awake. Jisung turns to look at the elder, blinking away the will to sleep as he watches Minho get completely engrossed in the anime.

Jisung feels delirious. He isn’t sure what possesses him as he slides over, closing the gap between them as he feels his shoulder press into Minho’s and his head slowly begins to fall to the elder’s shoulder. Jisung liked physical contact, even if it was just as simple as this. Minho doesn’t bother to say anything, eyes quickly blinking down to get an idea of what Jisung was doing, and instead chooses to settle into Jisung’s lean.

“I hate that guy,” Jisung mutters, watching someone he claimed as his least favorite character appear on screen. “Such a dick.”

“You think so? I kinda think he’s funny.” Minho listens to Jisung scoff and he rolls his eyes in response.

“Oh, please. The guy tricked everyone into thinking that he’s the good guy here! He’s clearly not.”

“You don’t like the bad guys, Jisung? Are they too rough for you?” Oh, god. Minho was making a sex joke, and Jisung can’t help the swelling interest that swirls in his stomach. Jisung wasn’t sure what the elder was implying, given that their sexual encounters had been anything but rough, so he huffs in contempt as a chosen response, unable to come back with anything that wouldn’t render him flustered. “Jisungie? Hmm?”

Jisungie? “What the hell did you just call me?”

“Ah, so the pet names work on you. Good to know.”

“The pet- what?!”

Minho starts laughing, feeling Jisung’s head raise away from his shoulder, eyes staring into the side of his face. Minho purposely avoids his gaze, chuckling still, smiling wider when Jisung smacks his arm. “You’re easy.”

“Am not!”

“Why are you blushing then, Jisungie?” Minho turns to face him now, watching the younger’s expression completely fall to shambles.

“I- NO! I am NOT!” Jisung hides his face immediately, hands rushing to cover the red tint to his cheeks and nose, struggling not to laugh behind the cover of his palms.

“Jisungie-” Minho coos, pressing closer, fingers wrapping around the younger’s wrists.

“Minhooo,” Jisung cries, biting his bottom lip to hold the smile and laughter at bay.

Jisung’s hands fall away at the slightest hint of pressure, sinking back to his lap with Minho’s gentle grip. Jisung eyes the elder, a dopey smile curled on his lips with heat spreading across his cheeks still. Minho was laughing at him lightly, expression bright as his smile reached his eyes, looking at the younger fondly. Jisung barely notices Minho subtly leaning forward and his laughter quieting the moment they close in on one another’s personal space. Jisung can’t help it now, leaning forward to attach his lips to Minho’s in a chaste kiss that he almost immediately pulls away from, eyes wide and blinking with shock.

“God, Minho, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Minho grabs his shirt and pulls him forward again, slotting their lips together languidly. Jisung sinks into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut, feeling the tension within his stomach dissipate with surging waves of electricity that settle across his skin. Minho’s hands rise to cup Jisung’s jaw, holding the younger against him, almost refusing to let them part. Jisung’s hands shyly move towards Minho’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt carefully, suggesting that they weren’t close enough. It’s only then that Jisung is reminded of how truly tired he is, feeling sleep overwhelm his lidded eyes as he sinks further into the lustful kiss. He wants Minho, he knows he does. But he’s much too tired.

“Minho-ssi,” Jisung breathes, hands accidentally gripping the elder’s waist again when Minho’s tongue slips into his mouth to taste him. Minho crawls over and plants himself on Jisung’s lap, legs straddling the male with their crotches touching. Jisung is over the moon, eyes rolling back into his head with sloppy kisses that struggle to stay pure.

Minho was such a good fucking kisser, and Jisung hates him for it. Minho knew how to draw out every noise from the younger, with every lick into his mouth or bite on his lip, Jisung was automatically groaning and breathing into Minho’s mouth, letting the elder ruin him.

Jisung jolts awake the second he feels Minho grind into him, rubbing their hips together with long, sinful strokes, something that Jisung can hardly comprehend. He’s unable to keep himself quiet, tilting his head back, giving Minho access to his throat. Minho gratefully moves his lips and starts attacking Jisung’s jawline, sucking and biting the entire way down to his earlobe, and drops further to his neck, biting down on his pulse like a hungry animal.

“Shit, Minho-” Jisung’s eyes blink open, hands gripping into Minho’s waist.

“I can tell you’re tired, Ji.” Minho breathes, kissing his jaw, then his lips, eyes waiting for Jisung to look at him. “You’re a little tense.”

“I didn’t really sleep,” Jisung’s head slowly tilts back down, forehead gently pressing against Minho’s as his eyes lull closed again. “I was working a lot last night.”

“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard.” Minho frowns, kissing the corner of Jisung’s lips.

“I gotta pay rent, Minho,” Jisung smiles at him, leaning back slightly to gauge Minho’s expression. Jisung’s heart melts at the sight of him, looking at his kiss-swollen lips and lidded eyes, hair slightly messy and suddenly hanging in front of his eyes. “I’m okay, I promise. Don’t look so sad.”

“You make me worry, sometimes.” Minho tilts his head slightly. “I know we don’t know much about each other, but I can’t help but worry that you’re not taking care of yourself.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Well, I know so. You told me that you’re an insomniac, that’s just enough for me to worry at least a little.”

Jisung sighs. Minho really had a gift at seeing right through his bullshit. “I don’t sleep, so what?”

“If you aren’t sleeping, then you aren’t eating properly, and you aren’t really taking care of yourself.”

“If you’re such an expert in Han Jisung’s life-” Jisung leans back into the press of the couch, hands still gripping onto Minho’s waist. “Why don’t you tell me how to fix it? Hm?”

“Well,” Minho leans towards him, ghosting his lips over Jisung’s teasingly. “You can let me take care of you in one of two ways. We can go sleep in my bed until you’ve caught up on all the sleep you’ve ignored, or-”

“Or what?” Jisung interrupts, smug.

Minho’s hand reaches down Jisung’s chest, fingers trailing strokes of heat until he stops just above the base of his pelvis. “Or you can really let me take care of you.”

“Christ.” Jisung chokes out, blinking twice as he feels himself linger between both options. Jisung wants nothing more than Minho’s hands on him, feeling the stress drift away from his shoulders and evaporate into nothingness, but he is really fucking exhausted.

“Tell me what you want, Jisungie.” Minho kisses the corner of his lips, then his cheek, leaving open mouthed kisses down his jaw as he sits there and waits, fingers curling around the edge of Jisung’s pants curiously; pleadingly.

“Minho-” Jisung sighs, hands leaving the elder’s waist to drift towards his jawline, pushing his attention on that of himself. “As much as I want you to get in my pants right now, I really am tired. I don’t think I’ve slept more than eight hours the last two days.”

“That’s okay.” Minho smiles sweetly, retracting his hand from Jisung’s joggers. “Wanna sleep now?”

“Please.” Jisung mumbles back, hating the feeling sitting in his heart. He wants Minho to take care of him, he wants to be doted on and loved more than anything; but they were just friends. Everything about this felt like something else, something new. This wasn’t what they agreed on, and he isn’t sure that he should be allowing himself to feel like this. Minho was looking at him so fondly, so boldly, like he had no care in the world except worrying about Jisung, holding the younger on a pedestal in his life that he didn’t know he could sit upon. But Minho says next to nothing, getting off of Jisung’s lap and taking his hand, turning off the television before leading him into the room down the hall with its door ajar.

The room was dark with a queen sized bed resting in the middle, curtains closed to hide the view of the city beyond them. Jisung watches Minho shed his hoodie almost immediately, revealing a naked torso that Jisung can’t help but gawk at for a few moments before blinking away, trying to focus on anything else. They had already slept in bed together, so this was nothing new, but doing all of this sober felt strange.

“Left or right side?” Minho turns towards him nonchalantly, raking a hand through his hair.

“Can I, uh-” Jisung anxiously tangles his own hands together, gazing towards the edge of the bed. “Can I sleep on the left? I wanna look at the city, if you don’t mind.”

“I sleep on the right anyways.” Minho smiles, and Jisung hates how comfortable it made him feel.

“Do you want me to open the curtains a bit?” Minho moves towards his windows and Jisung nods quickly, shuffling towards the bed before sitting down and watching Minho unveil the same view he saw in the living room. He was in awe, watching the city lights brighten the space gently, eyes blinking in realization that his apartment didn’t hold the same view, but faced the opposite way. His apartment faced Minho’s, at least directionally. They most likely couldn’t see each other because of the distance, but Jisung barely realized how close they lived until now. It’s a wonder how they never crossed paths just yet.

“I’m gonna wash my face really quick,” Minho walks past Jisung, eyes curiously watching Jisung continue to stare out of the windows. “Let me know if you need anything when I get back.”

Jisung hums a quiet yeah in response, eyes still focused onto the view out of the window. He pulls himself into the bed, further and further until he finds the pillows, adjusting them diligently until he wills himself to pull the dark gray comforter back, sinking his legs beneath it. His head turned to gaze out of the window again, wondering if he should just go home. But he felt at peace here. He liked being able to smell Minho’s cologne around the apartment and kiss him, wondering if his heart would ever turn into turmoil the more time he spent with the elder. Minho was kind and doting every instance they met, wondering how the male could’ve ever ended up alone and single within this lavish apartment.

“You alright?” Minho re-enters into the room, approaching the bed as he watches Jisung’s gaze turn back towards him, eyes sleepy and breaths deep.

“‘M okay, hyung. Just tired.”

“Lay down.” Minho quietly demands and Jisung doesn’t bother to argue, lowering himself to the pillows with his eyes almost instantly fluttering shut. Minho pulls back the comforter on his side and plunges into bed next to him, getting comfortable and lying on his back. Jisung tiredly rolls over, slinging his arm carefully over Minho’s midsection as his head rests on his naked chest. Minho wants to protest, skin twitching, teeth biting his tongue, but the moment Jisung settles and his breaths deepen, Minho chooses to stay quiet. He didn’t want to disturb the younger, let alone ruin the opportunity for him to finally sleep, so he accepted the contact between them and closed his own eyes, letting sleep carry him into the dark.

Jisung wakes up feeling groggy. His mind is a mess, cluttered and riddled with anxiety as his eyes open to an unfamiliar setting. He’s facing the windows, which were still pulled open, sunlight caressing nearby buildings as the burning star rises further into the morning sky. Jisung’s eyes blink awake once then twice, trying to remember where he’s at, let alone what fucking year it was. He feels incredibly disoriented, unsure of the time or how long he had slept.

“Jisung?” Minho mumbles, shuffling on the bed next to him, eyes closed and hair messy. Jisung turns around to face him, hair also messy and suddenly remembering where he was.

“Hi.” Jisung smiles at him, moving his hand to rake through his hair as his vision begins to slowly clear and unblur. “Sleep okay?”

“Mhm. More than okay.” Minho’s eyes pull open, hand reaching over to wipe away the grogginess lingering in his vision. “Time’s it?”

Jisung reaches for his pockets, pulling his phone free and tapping the screen awake. “Close to eight.”

“So we didn’t sleep all day?” Minho sighs.

“Apparently not.”

“‘M sorry. I wanted you to sleep longer.”

“I’m okay, Minho. I feel a bit better, actually.” Jisung breathes through his nose, turning back around to gaze out of the windows again. He really couldn’t get over the view ahead of him, wondering how the elder got so lucky with this damn apartment.

“C’mere and cuddle with me, Jisungie.” Minho mumbles, holding his arms out with his eyes drooping closed again. Jisung turns to face him, now wondering why the hell sleepy Minho was so damn cute and how the hell he couldn’t resist him. Jisung sighs, leaning back down and placing himself into Minho’s arms, pliantly allowing the elder to pull him into his chest.

“Still sleepy?” Jisung asks, listening to the elder hum a mumbled yes. “Me too.”

Jisung presses a few kisses to Minho’s chest, then rests against Minho comfortably, feeling Minho’s left hand stroke his back in smooth motions. Jisung could fall asleep again, he really could; but he chooses not to.

Thirty minutes of quiet cuddles pass, and Jisung finds himself hating how content he is. He could spend forever here, wrapped in the arms of someone he was growing overly fond of. But, Minho starts moving and breaks away from their close hold, yawning and stretching out, rubbing at his eyes once more. Minho’s bed was unreasonably comfortable and warm, something he could get annoyingly used to sleeping in. But he knows they’re just friends. This isn’t a relationship by any means and he knew that. It just was getting harder to believe the more they kept allowing themselves to act like this.

“Minho?” Jisung watches the elder curiously as he rolls back over, hands wrapping around Jisung’s neck and pulling him close with a sleepy smile, eyes lulled and face slightly warmed with pink. Minho had intent locked into his eyes, and Jisung could sense it. “Awake now?”

“Mhm,” Minho hums, pressing closer, ghosting his lips on top of Jisung’s, biting down on his bottom lip.

Jisung can feel his heart beating in his throat, watching the elder stare into him with a burning lust that he’s seen before within his own bathroom. Minho had intent burned within his eyes the night before, settled on his lap and grinding into him, but Jisung denied him because he wanted to sleep. But now, pressed an inch away, Jisung finds no reason to deny him. “Wanna-?”

“Mhm.” Minho closes the short distance to connect their lips, his hand leaving Jisung’s neck to travel down his stomach and disappear beyond the band of his joggers. Jisung admires how bold Minho was, lips parting with a gasp the second the elder’s fingers wrap around him. Minho readily takes advantage of him, tongue licking into Jisung’s mouth and teeth searching to grab onto his bottom lip; hungry and sloppy. Minho is incredibly eager, and Jisung suddenly feels the same drive melt into his skin, starting a fire in his abdomen that drives him to push Minho onto his back and start to straddle him.

Minho grabs the bottom of Jisung’s shirt and tugs it off of him, tossing it to the floor before pulling Jisung back down to his lips, grinding his hips upwards, earning subtle noises to perch from Jisung’s tongue. Jisung’s hands are searching Minho’s body, squeezing his sides then his waist, fingers hooking beneath the fabric of his pants before pulling them down just enough to expose him.

“Off-” Minho begs, lips traveling to Jisung’s throat, teeth grasping at any skin that he could. “Off. Now.”

Jisung hurriedly pulls his joggers off, boxers falling away too as he throws them to the floor, eyes searching Minho’s face as he hesitates, swallowing the pooling saliva settled below his tongue. He felt fucking ravenous.

“Drawer-” Minho points with his right arm, struggling to turn his head around to grab it himself, so Jisung leans forward and does it for him, hand messily searching the contents of the drawer to pull free a bottle and an unfortunately familiar square packet.

Minho makes motions to grab the items from Jisung’s hands, but Jisung insists on doing it all himself, prepping Minho hungrily, smearing liquid across him with the intent of making it messy. Jisung really couldn’t care about Minho’s will to keep things clean or to keep things safe. He’s suddenly devoured by this sense of lust that he must’ve slept off last night, and now all it hits him full force, swimming back up through his veins stronger and more willful. Jisung can’t find it in himself to ignore it anymore as he leans down, kissing Minho’s lips twice, shifting his hips upwards before wrapping his fingers delicately around Minho again.

Minho’s breath hitches in anticipation, watching Jisung with a curious gaze, feeling his stomach tighten with need and wanting; something similar to lust twirling in his abdomen. Jisung is impatient, barely giving Minho any time to interject before he lets himself sink down, slowly, carefully, taking his time as he feels Minho’s hands spread across the thick of his thighs and grip them. Jisung’s breaths are rapid, head tilted down, cheeks flushed and eyes closed, suddenly filled with satisfaction the second he sits all the way down.

Minho is a mess beneath him, head tossed back and eyes screwed shut, struggling to keep himself quiet. “Oh my fucking god, Jisung.”

Jisung places a hand on Minho’s chest, splayed out, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he experimentally grinds forwards, sending both of their bodies to gently arch at the back. “All good, hyung?”

Minho nods at him, breathless, hands gripping Jisung's thighs for dear life. “All good.”

Jisung starts to move on Minho’s lap, enjoying the view of Minho looking so fucked beneath him, hair a mess and sweat beginning to bead down his forehead, lips parted with a blown out expression that he wants to remember forever. Jisung doesn’t realize how much he liked being in control, making his own pace and his own rules, keeping Minho pinned to the bed so he could do whatever he wanted to him. Minho would let him, he really wouldn’t stop him nor would he ever.

Jisung’s legs are beginning to give out on him, given that he barely worked out anymore and ate take out literally everyday, he can only imagine the torture he put his own body through. Now he was really regretting it, unable to support himself and the pace he wanted, nearly winded by the sudden surge of activity he wasn’t used to. Minho, perceptive as ever, picks up on this, wrapping a hand around Jisung’s back as he pulls himself upright, folding his legs under him with Jisung still settled on his lap. Minho moves Jisung’s arms to wrap around his neck, one hand pressed to the younger’s hip and the other to the top of his shoulder. Jisung knew Minho was strong, but he didn’t know he was strong enough to just move him so easily. The thought of that really drove Jisung insane.

Minho moves up and into him, using his hold on Jisung’s shoulder to keep him balanced on top of him, nuzzling his lips up and against his throat. Jisung is absolutely out of his mind right now, whining and groaning, sucking in air as he lets Minho take control now, teeth biting his skin and leaving aching bruises in their wake.

“Please-” Jisung begs, nearly panting from his mouth.

“What d’you want?” Minho breathes. “Jisungie?”

God, the fucking pet names were really doing it for him, and he would never admit it. “You-”

Jisung’s voice breaks when Minho bites his earlobe. “Fuck, hyung. You, please. Anything.”

Minho flips them again, pushing Jisung onto his back to sink even further into the male, wrapping Jisung’s legs around his back. Jisung isn’t sure how much more he can take as a familiar tightness forms in his stomach, balling tighter with every swift snap of Minho’s hips that rail into the younger. He’s struggling to stay in this realm, drifting back and forth between a limbo-like state, eyes fluttering with every snap and every kiss against his skin. Minho’s hands entangle with Jisung’s, pinning them to the bed beside the younger’s head, lips kissing his collarbones and his jaw, doing everything in his power to unravel the male.

It doesn’t take long before Jisung comes undone, arching his back dramatically as Minho whispers a quiet good boy in his ear. Jisung tiredly tightens the grip of his legs that were still wrapped around Minho’s back, letting the elder continue to chase after his own high until he snaps one final time, groaning into Jisung’s shoulder with stuttering breaths.

Jisung knows Minho is good at sex, but this was an entirely different plane of existence. Their last two hook-ups did not leave him feeling this good, given that the first time they were both drunk off their ass and the second time was in the shower, so now sober and left with enough space; they finally found out how truly compatible they are.

“You really like the pet names, don’t you?” Minho mentions lightly in the crook of Jisung’s neck, listening as the younger groans in embarrassment.

“Oh, shut up, hyung.” Jisung lets his legs fall down, hand reaching to smack the elder on his side.

Minho leans his head up, looking down at the younger, sweating and obviously worn out, but his eyes glimmered with adoration. “Are you hungry?”

Jisung winded up back at his apartment hours later. Minho insisted on making him breakfast and driving him home, to which Jisung found himself unable to stop from happening. Minho cleaned both of them up before strolling into the kitchen and preparing eggs and bacon for them, to which Jisung ate happily. They sat on the couch for an hour, trying to watch the anime they nearly ignored the night before, laughing at parts of the show as time went on before Jisung insisted that he went home to continue working. Minho didn’t argue and instead agreed without issue, driving the younger home and making Jisung promise to call him later if he had trouble sleeping. Jisung agreed, but he also internally promised that he wouldn’t, only to save himself and Minho the stress of worrying.

So now, he sits with his headphones over his head, staring at his computer monitor later in the evening. He’s been fixing this part of the song for about two hours, unable to find the right solution for the track as his mind messily reenacts the events of the morning in his head. He never wanted to admit how much he really liked Minho. He liked how he could see right through his mask, sensing the struggle within his eyes and wanting to help him through it. He hated the way Minho knew his body almost inside and out at this point, finding out new things to spur him on further, while also bringing out a happier, lighter side to him that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

He hates it so much that he wants to cry. He has no room for this in his heart right now. He has to focus; he has to get this music done. He needs to pay rent before he gets evicted for a second time, so he has to put it aside.

This track was so upbeat and happy, sung along with electronic tones that make the song flutter in one’s heart. It’s got the tune of a love song, but Jisung can’t get himself to write it. He isn’t in love, and he doesn’t want to be. So with these feelings that stem from wanting Minho, he chooses to ignore them all, closing his eyes and letting the tears stream down his face, abandoning the strength he swore he had to keeping their relationship labeled as just friends. Fuck, Felix was right. Jisung knew he would be. He really never wanted to admit it.

As he sits there, he presses play on the track, letting the entire two minute melody ring through the speakers on his headset as he cries, finally coming to terms with the fact that Minho was turning into his muse and he was only ever making any progress on the song after he sees the male. Given it’s never a lot of progress, but it’s always something. Other times he sits and stares, unable to fix any mistakes or think of new ideas, or even work on another song entirely, stuck on the way he wants to make the song about Minho, and Minho only.

He then looks at the title, “Want So Bad”. He shakes his head after reading it, knowing deep down why he titled it that way. He’s annoyed at himself and his insatiable desires, pushing his mouse cursor towards the top of the program where it hovers over a small trash can emoticon, hesitating to delete the song in its entirety.

Maybe he should stop seeing Minho. Maybe he should stop listening to this stupid love song. Maybe he should let it all go and move out of this apartment, just so he didn’t have to see Minho’s apartment building anymore, because now that he’s reminded of it, his eyes trail upwards to look out of his nearby window, and sure as shit, there the complex was. Jisung’s eyes roll and he leans back into his chair, pushing himself further away from his desk as he stares into his monitor, biting his tongue to wanting to abandon everything once again. He promised Felix he wouldn’t get attached to Minho, that’s not what any of this was for. They were just friends.

Just friends.

Jisung then realizes he doesn’t think he could be just friends with Minho.

Not when Minho looks at him the way he does or touches him the way he does, and especially when Minho coos at him so lovingly.

Minho was never meant to be just a fling. All of this was a bad idea from the start. But, Jisung couldn’t bring himself to stop. He was addicted and he hated himself for it. The last thing he ever needed was to get so attached to someone he met randomly, but now that person was consuming his thoughts on a daily basis and ruling his mind. He can’t say any of this to Felix, especially not to Seungmin either, so he sits there and stares, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously as the fear stumbles over. He’s falling again.

And he wasn’t sure if there was any way he could stop himself.

Chapter Text

The minute Minho finds his own couch again, he feels his world spin on its edges.

He had just driven Jisung home after spending the night with him again. He hates to admit how natural it all felt. He wasn’t close to Jisung by any means, but something about the younger made him feel comforted. Their arrangement was peculiar, and he definitely wasn’t used to it. Separating feelings from sex was hard enough as it is, especially considering how annoyingly compatible they were.

Relationships were intimidating. Everything Minho hated about them stemmed from pure insecurity, all learned from his previous relationship with Seungmin. It’s not that they weren’t good for each other or that they were toxic, at least, Minho would refuse to admit it to being like that in the first place. Through his own eyes, Seungmin was driven and always placed their relationship first. There was no distrust held within their bond, all pure and soaked in love, something Minho was learning for the first time.

Minho was a junior in college when he met Seungmin. They started off as lab partners in a random chemistry class that Minho had taken to get rid of his final generic class credit, being partnered with a freshman that was oddly optimistic and sarcastic. Seungmin didn’t strike Minho as his type at first, always sticking the elder with a sly comment the second he settled into his seat nearly two minutes late every day.

“Maybe if you showed up on time, the teacher wouldn’t be so hard on you, hyung.”

Minho would sigh and settle in, opening his laptop with an unamused glare, always responding with the same thing to whatever greeting Seungmin would meet him with. “Sure, Seungmin. Sure.”

They had spent an awful amount of time together studying and preparing for an exam, given that the other people in their class were not ideal study partners. Seungmin never bothered to invite his other friends over and would keep his time with Minho private. Minho never bothered to ask why.

On a random Wednesday, Seungmin accidentally ran into Minho at the nearby coffee shop and Minho offered to buy his drink, where they suddenly both found out that they enjoyed iced americanos equally. So, it became a thing. Once a week they would meet for coffee and study there instead, isolating themselves further from other friends and responsibilities, solely focused on one another.

This continued for two months, and somewhere within these months did Minho find himself feeling comfortable enough to want to share details about his life, diving into a close friendship with the younger that really caught himself off guard. So, they started hanging out more frequently, watching movies in Minho’s dorm room and going for walks, spending an ungodly amount of time talking about why Minho didn’t understand baseball and why Seungmin loved it so much.

“You’d look good in a jersey, hyung. You should come to a game with me.”

Minho would laugh, roll his eyes and deny it. “I am not going to wear a jersey for you, Seungmin. Let it go.”

Seungmin would keep bringing it up as baseball season strolled closer, and Minho began to find it hard to keep denying the younger. So, sometime close to the end of Seungmin’s freshman term, Minho surprises the younger and buys him two baseball game tickets and offers to learn the rules only if Seungmin would agree to going out on a date with him.

“Isn’t the baseball game a date? Isn’t that why you’re asking?”

Minho’s face will flush, and he’ll look away, laughing with quiet embarrassment. “If you want it to be, then let’s make it one.”

That’s exactly what they did. Minho was nervous as hell, strolling through an unfamiliar atmosphere filled with cheering fans and loud music playing through overhead speakers. He’s a bit timid, eyes glancing around at passing faces and cheering fans from either team, watching Seungmin’s eyes light up joyfully the moment he views the field. Seungmin takes Minho’s hand and leads him around the familiar stadium, talking about the history of the team and certain features of the guest area on the first level before leading the elder towards their seats near third base. Seungmin would go on and on about which players were good and who he was looking forward to seeing, cheering loudly when an underdog from the team scores his first homerun of the season, a beaming smile spread across his lips the longer the game would go on.

Around the sixth inning, Minho and Seungmin were in the middle of sharing some type of fried finger food, watching each team take a short break to gather their thoughts for the final three innings. The home team, which was Seungmin’s team, was in the lead, but only by a point. Anything could change at any time, and that’s what Seungmin loved the most. He found the sport exhilarating and lively, keeping its watchers on their toes as they watched each hitter try to hit the ball hard enough to land somewhere on the other side of the fence; praying for an easy score. Other times they swing and swing, stealing bases from under the opposing team’s nose to linger closer to home base, waiting for the prime opportunity to walk across the white plate to score for their team.

The innings drag on, hit after hit, score after score, ultimately to end up tied in the ninth inning. Seungmin was on the edge of his seat, metaphorically and literally, hands gripping the plastic, foldable seat anyway he could as he leans forwards, muttering chants beneath his breath. Minho watches amusingly, giggling any time Seungmin reacted negatively to something that happened within the inning, until a look of pure excitement rang through Seungmin’s expression. His favorite hitter catches a fastball with the underside of his bat, swinging upwards and sending the ball further and further, dropping and dropping until it ultimately lands beyond the wall. The player makes his rounds around the bases, jumping for joy and raising his fists, listening to the crowd beyond him chant his name. Seungmin was standing, clapping his hands overjoyed; engrossed in the end of the game as the player finally steps on home base. The crowd roars with cheers and Minho stands, clapping along as he feels the thrill of the game cultivate in his veins. Minho couldn’t lie, he did enjoy himself, but as he looks at Seungmin with unwavering eyes, he finds himself smitten.

Seungmin turns around, eyes catching Minho’s in a quick glance, but the younger presses close and kisses him quickly; barely a peck, but enough to catch the elder off guard. They blink at each other wordlessly after Seungmin leans away, almost afraid of Minho’s reaction to the sudden press of lips against his, but Minho reaches for his shirt and pulls him right back.

They went on dates every Friday, always picking one thing for them to enjoy together, holding hands and kissing as if they’d never see each other again. For a while they kept their relationship secret, away from the prying eyes of Seungmin’s overbearing friends and Minho’s annoying roommate, before finally deciding to come out to one person at a time.

The relationship fell fast, growing stronger the closer their bond grew. Before Minho knows it, he’s graduating college and buying an apartment, planning a romantic dinner with a key to his apartment settled in a cutely wrapped box, hoping the younger would agree to move in with him.

Seungmin would come back to his dorm from work, tired and completely in shock at the gesture, almost commenting on why Minho chose to do this in his dorm of all places. But he was too tired to care.

“I found an apartment,” Minho would start, gauging Seungmin’s expression carefully.

“Oh yeah? Am I allowed to occupy a drawer in your dresser now so I can sleep over?”

“Actually,” Minho breathes a calming breath, biting his bottom lip. “You should move in with me.”

Seungmin would nearly choke on his food and Minho hurriedly apologizes for being too forward, yet the younger stands from his chair and kisses him, muttering four words that Minho feels be engraved into his soul. “I would love to.”

It moved incredibly fast. The down payment for the apartment, moving boxes, cleaning Seungmin’s dorm and changing his living status with the college; but Minho felt incredibly happy all the while. He was in love, Seungmin was too. But slowly over time does he realize that it was too much too fast.

They had been dating for almost two years now, living together for nearly a month, and Minho was overwhelmed. There was no space, no time to be alone and no will to go out on dates. They just existed in mutual air, sitting on the living room couch on opposite ends with their minds engrossed into their phones. This wasn’t a relationship, this was something bitter; something wrong. Neither of them would dare to talk about it.

On a night out to finally achieve some space, Minho finds himself with Chris at a local bar, slinging his arm over the elder’s shoulders with a drunken hum. There was no intention of meeting anyone here, just the intent of getting drunk and wandering back home with a clear mind.

In the mix of four bottles of soju, Minho meets a young male’s gaze, biting back the urge to make his acquaintance. He was relatively tall, if not as tall as Minho, styled with black hair, fox-like eyes, a slender waist and a buffed torso. Minho was entranced from the moment they locked eyes, and he found it hard to look away. But the rest of the night is a blur, and the next morning he finds himself in a strange apartment, sleeping next to a naked male that was not Seungmin.

Two weeks later, Minho is sitting on his couch alone, hands covering his face as guilt pools in his stomach. He never wanted to cheat on Seungmin, let alone hide it from his partner, but the male at the bar was intoxicating, breathing in his air and giving in to every wish and command beckoned from Minho’s tongue. He had feelings settled there, somewhere deeply rooted in his heart that he can’t ignore. Feelings that had taken over the ones he once felt for Seungmin.

Minho can barely speak the truth when Seungmin comes home, tears streaming down his face with shame dribbling from his lips. He was terrified watching Seungmin’s expression fall further and further until his hands shove Minho backwards. Minho doesn’t say anything, holding his tongue, letting Seungmin’s hands smack and push against his torso. He deserved it, he knew he did. The last thing he ever wanted to do was break Seungmin’s heart.

The following week, Seungmin hurriedly moved out. They spent the entirety of their last week together ignoring each other, eating at different times, sleeping in different places; not saying a single word. Minho finds himself alone in the apartment with the space he longed for, but with the outcome he never imagined.

Since then, Minho never indulged in another relationship. He has since moved apartments to live closer to his new job, begging his father to let him rent a space in one of the complexes he owned in downtown Seoul. His father agrees, giving him the space he previously lived in as a bachelor, but has since married and now lives elsewhere. Minho redecorated very little, keeping the walls white and barren, only accenting with modern paintings and a collage of his cats that he rescued shortly after moving in.

But here he was now, sitting on his couch with a hand traveling down Soonie’s back, eyes gazing at his ceiling, wondering why a familiar feeling was flooding his chest. He liked Jisung, way more than he ever wanted to.

He feels lost. The only thing he knows what to do when he feels like this is to confide in Chris, but something inside of him didn’t want to bother the elder with what seemed like such miniscule problems. He can’t allow himself to feel like this, sitting up from his couch with his hands moving subconsciously to pick up the cat that was laying on his chest, setting him down gently on the couch. As much as he doesn’t want to, he decides to call Chris.

“Hello?”

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Nope, just at the gym. What’s up?”

“I really need to talk to someone. Do you think you can swing by my place when you’re done?”

“Yeah, sure. I just gotta shower and I’ll be on the way.”

“Thank you, Channie. I’ll see you in a bit-”

“Minho? Are you alright?”

“Hm?”

“You just sound. . . depressed. Is everything okay?”

“It’s better for me to tell you in person.”

“Right. I’ll be there soon.”

Almost thirty minutes pass by the time Chris reaches Minho’s apartment. Minho had been sitting on his couch, scrolling through Twitter with an uneasy mind. He had long since unfollowed Seungmin on social media by this point, but something about revisiting unfamiliar feelings made him want to check in. But, before he could commit to doing so, Chris walks into the apartment and Minho sighs with relief.

“What’s going on?” Chris shuts the door behind him, taking off his shoes and stepping further into the apartment, carefully walking around Minho’s lazily settled legs to sit down on the couch next to his friend.

“I fucked up.”

“Uh oh. What kind of fuck up?”

“I caught feelings. . . I think.” Minho rolls his eyes the moment he sees Chris smiling at him. “This isn’t a good thing, alright? This is bad, like really bad.”

“I think you’re overreacting. Who is it? Who’s the guy?”

“Remember who I met up with at the nightclub? Felix’s friend?”

“Ah, the cute short one?”

Minho’s cheeks burn. “Yeah. Him.”

“Jisung, was it?” Minho nods. “Ah, I see. What happened that night? You took him home, yeah?”

“Yeah. I made sure he got home safe. I ended up staying there-”

“Ah, so you two-?”

“Yeah.” Minho sighs, gaze falling to his lap. “Then again the next day.”

“Oh.”

“And again this morning.”

“ Oh!”

“Chan-” Minho smiles, raising a hand to smack at the elder, but Chris moves away with his palms raised upwards in defense.

“Hey, hey, hey! It’s nice to see you find someone again, alright? What’s so bad about having feelings for him? Is he a dick or something?”

“No, that’s the problem. He’s not a dick. He’s smart and witty, sarcastic and just fun to be around. He likes music just like I do and likes my type of anime. He’s just, I dunno, a perfect human for me.”

“Perfect?”

“Maybe it was a stretch-”

“Nah, nah. You said it, so you must’ve meant it.”

Minho rolls his eyes again, looking away towards the television in front of him that remained turned off. “I kind of meant it. I just want to get to know him better but we’re supposed to be just friends.”

“Friends who have sex?”

“Well, when you say it like that-”

“So you’re friends with benefits? Right?”

“Yeah. I don’t really want to be.” Minho shrugs. “But he was saying that he has no intentions for anything more than what we’re doing. He’s got a lot of stuff going on right now, so I really don’t wanna tell him all of this anyways.”

“But you want more?”

“I think so. It’s just so easy to be around him. Everything feels natural, like I don’t have to filter myself and we can just exist. He’s just a bit indescribable.”

“I can tell you definitely have a crush on him.” Chris smiles, looking down as he gathers his own thoughts. “Besides Jisung not wanting anything more, is there something else holding you back?”

“Maybe.” Minho looks at Chris, trying to hide the sadness in his tone. “My ex.”

“Seungmin right?” Minho’s eyes widen suddenly, and Chris sighs. “I went home with him that night. We just talked and he told me about you, y’know. I can’t say that I like what you did to him, but you’re my best friend. I wanted to hear your side of things, too.”

“I felt stuck.” Minho’s jaw is tight in remembrance, thinking back to a relationship he had tried to forget but continued to let haunt him more everyday. “Everything moved so quickly with us and I feel like I never got to stop and enjoy it. We went from our first date, to seeing each other everyday, to dates every Friday, and studying together to living together and doing nothing else-” Minho’s eyes squinted. “There was no space.”

“Seungmin told me that he felt like he didn’t have enough of you or that you were distant.”

“After we moved in together, it felt like we were roommates. We weren’t having sex, and we weren’t going out on dates anymore, we were just there. We were just existing. I wanted to talk to him and I wanted to fix it-”

“But that night we went drinking, something happened. . . didn’t it? That guy you met?”

“I can’t really remember. I was wasted. I just woke up somewhere that wasn’t my apartment and he offered to drive me home, but I said no and took the bus. I still feel bad about it, Chan. All of it. I led both of them on because I had confusing ass feelings for both of them, but I felt even worse because I had stronger feelings for the random one night stand than I did with my own boyfriend.”

“That’s. . . concerning.”

“You’re telling me.”

“So that’s why you broke it off?” Chris tilts his head slightly. “You told him the truth?”

“I lied about it for a while, and it got hard to keep lying. I loved him, I really did. But I was tired of feeling like I had no escape and no space. It’s not an excuse for me to cheat on him, Chan, I know that. I really hate myself for it, but I just acted out of drunken idiocy and Seungmin paid the price for it.”

“You know Jisung is like his best friend, right?”

“I do.”

“And you slept with him anyways?”

“God, you’re making me feel worse. You’re supposed to be making me feel better!”

“I know, Minho, I’m just trying to understand. You’ve got yourself into a pretty interesting situation, so I'm just a bit lost on how to guide you through this. Can you dumb it down a bit? I think my brain is overloaded with all of the information.”

“I slept with my ex’s best friend and now I have feelings for him. What the hell do I do?”

“Okay, hear me out-” Chris adjusts the way he was sitting on the couch, furrowing his brows slightly. “I think you’ve gotta make amends with Seungmin. He’s still upset about the whole thing and I think he’ll find comfort in knowing that you feel guilty about it. Closure is what the both of you need, I think.”

“Fuck me, seriously? I gotta go talk to him? It’s been like over a year since we broke up.”

“It’ll do you both some good. Just meet him over coffee. He won’t say no.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I asked him. I kind of had a feeling when I saw you with Jisung that something was bound to go wrong. Seungmin was uncomfortable the entire night, and I could tell that you were avoiding even looking at him. I promise you that he just wants closure, Minho. I don’t think he feels like he can move on because he refuses to. He’s been single since you’ve broken up with him because I don’t think he wants to move on. Somewhere deep inside of him I think he hopes that you’ll want him back.”

“God-” Minho’s face falls into his open hands. “I’m horrible, aren’t I?”

“No, Minho. You’re not. You fucked up, it is what it is. But if you don’t have feelings for Seungmin anymore, then you have to let him find closure and talk to him. Being with someone for that long with feelings that strong makes it harder to forget.”

“What if I say the wrong thing?”

“Minho. All you can say is sorry. He can’t hate you more than he did or does now, but you really gotta make sure he knows that he has to let you go.”

Minho’s hands leave his face, leaning back upright to look at Chris again. He felt relief and stressed all at once, knowing that this could be the fix to most of his problems, but he still had the issue of having possibly unrequited feelings for Jisung. That might just have to wait for another day.

“Alright. I’ll call him.”

“I’m trusting that you will.” Chris leans a bit closer. “If you want anything with Jisung eventually, then you have to make sure everything is cut off with Seungmin, okay?”

“Right.”

“God, what the fuck am I doing?” Minho stresses, hand rustling through his hair, leaning back into the press of a shitty cafe chair. He had been sitting inside of this coffee shop for roughly twenty minutes, scrolling on his phone and sipping his iced americano empty out of pure anxiety.

He called Seungmin later in the evening after Chris had left, the conversation awkward and quiet through the phone line. Minho managed to convince the younger to meet him two days later after he got off of work, making sure to add on that he’d buy his coffee too, in hopes that it lessened the anxiety of meeting up. Seungmin agreed, somehow.

Minho had spent most of his morning working out to clear his head, walking back home to shower and linger beneath the hot water, hoping that he’d get dizzy enough and pass out, internally wanting to avoid this entire situation. Yet, here he was, nearly struggling to remain still in his seat with an empty coffee on the table ahead of him.

He told Seungmin to meet him around three, but now it was ten minutes past three and Seungmin was nowhere to be found. Did he have cold feet? Did he not want to see Minho? Did he really not want to talk? Maybe Chris was wrong and Seungmin didn’t want closure.

This was a mistake. Surely it was all a mistake and a misunderstanding. Minho could leave and pretend that nothing had happened, going back to ignoring his evolving feelings towards Jisung and having ‘meaningless’ sex–

“Minho?” A familiar voice echoes inside of Minho’s ears, stirring the elder to blink awake to see Seungmin standing ahead of him.

“H-hey. Sorry. I was in my head.” Minho gestures to the chair in front of him with his hand, sitting up in his own chair. “Please, sit.”

“I’m surprised you wanted to talk.” Seungmin says as he sits down, hands timidly sitting on his lap as his fingers toy with the sleeves of the hoodie he was wearing.

“I just really wanted to apologize for the way I treated you.” Minho twines his hands together, almost as an act of comfort, setting them down on the table. “It wasn’t fair, at all. I was an asshole, I was secretive and I was just really fucking awful to you.”

“Who knew that moving into that apartment would tear us apart?” Seungmin tries to joke, but his smile never reaches his eyes.

“I’m really sorry about that, too. I should’ve been clear with what I wanted and-and I should’ve communicated how I was feeling instead of getting drunk and being an idiot.”

“Did you like that guy?” Seungmin’s eyes trail towards the table, almost afraid to look up and see the visible honesty leaking out of Minho.

“I did. I did have feelings for him.” Minho sighs. “I don’t know if they were fleeting or just drunk feelings, I just don’t know. I don’t know if I ever will know.”

“I hate you for that.” Seungmin winces, eyes lifting slowly. “I’ve hated you for cheating on me and not having the balls to be honest that you got drunk and slept with someone else.”

“You have every right to.” Minho assures, his breath catching in his throat.

“I just wanna know why you didn’t love me anymore. I feel like I loved you so openly, but it wasn’t reciprocated. I have to know the answer if I’m ever going to be able to move on from you.” Seungmin’s eyes held very little life within them, dejected and upset; clinging to the hope that Minho would say something he had been waiting to hear.

“We weren’t in a relationship the last few weeks we were together. We were just roommates who kissed every now and then. I did love you. I spent so many nights crying over how much I loved you and how I fucked it all up.” Minho feels tears welled in his eyes. “I hated myself for not loving you the way you loved me. I still hate myself for that.”

“So you feel nothing, now?” Seungmin looks into Minho sadly, tears welling in his own eyes too.

“I don’t feel anything between us anymore, Seungmin. I’m sorry. What we had was everything to me, but I don’t think I can give you the love you so deserve. I’m an asshole and a cheater, and you deserve so much better than me.”

Seungmin was silent for two long, painful minutes, processing information that was truthfully told ahead of him. Minho knew that the answers he offered were not the answers Seungmin wanted to hear. But he had to set him free of the burden of hoping there’d be another chance for them to work it out.

“Thank you for telling me.” Seungmin settles on, biting his lip anxiously, eyes struggling to meet Minho’s gaze again. “I needed to hear it.”

“I hope you find someone again, Seungmin. You deserve so much happiness.”

“You’re right.” Seungmin nods. “I do.”

“I hope you can forgive me one day.” Minho adds quietly, eyes staring down at his hands.

“Maybe. But not right now. This just reopened all of the old wounds about everything I thought I was long healed from, so I’m gonna go. I would say it was nice to see you, but I don’t know if it was.”

“Can I at least buy you a coffee or something? I feel really fucking bad for making you feel like this.”

“No, no. I’m okay. The walk home will be enough to calm me down.” Seungmin stands from his chair, fingers tentatively resting on the back of the chair. “Thank you for being honest. It’s all I ever wanted from you.”

“I wasn’t going to lie to you anymore, so it was the least I could do.” Minho watches Seungmin bite his tongue, nod wordlessly, and turn without daring to spare another glance. Minho says nothing, fingers letting go of each other as he moves to grab his empty cup, wondering why he was even here. He hated seeing Seungmin seem so upset, and he almost wished he simply felt the same so the whole situation could’ve been avoided. Then he realizes that he wouldn’t have Jisung in his life, and the thought of that felt much worse.

Stop thinking about him.

Jisung bites back the groan building in his throat. He had his hands in his pockets, a light jacket covering his shoulders with a beanie covering his ears as he walked briskly down the sidewalk. He had complained to Felix earlier in the day that he needed fresh air and an escape from his suffocating apartment, to which Felix replied with, “Go get yourself coffee instead of dashing it!”

He couldn’t say that Felix was wrong, because he surely wasn’t, but he really did not want to walk all the way to the coffee shop around the corner. It was colder out, but nothing too cold. Jisung was just always freezing to begin with, so bundling up far more than he really needed to was a must. He decided to leave after an hour agonizing over Want So Bad, finding no progress to be had after staring at his computer screen hopelessly before turning on YouTube and zoning out for hours on end. He had barely eaten today either, so the thought of an iced americano and some type of pastry sounded absolutely divine right now.

The shop comes into view, and something inside of him remembers back to when he brought Minho here, sitting across from him with stars in his eyes. He was so fond of him then, but now he sort of hates him. He hates how crazy Minho makes him, but he also loves it. Minho was annoyingly attractive and good at making Jisung fall apart like putty, melting his soul on contact with the second their lips slot. It’ll all go away if you just tell him that you can’t see him anymore.

Maybe the problem itself was the fact that they kissed; and they kissed a lot. Feelings tend to get in the way due to the intimate act of kissing, but Jisung wasn’t entirely sure how Minho felt. He really didn’t want to stop kissing Minho, but Jisung knew that if they kept going on like this, one of them would end up saying the horrid ‘L word’ and everything would be horrible from then on.  You really need to call him and just end it.

He liked their relationship and the boundaries they had set, solely focused on being friends – and every now and then sleeping with one another. They’ve only really set time aside to text almost everyday, otherwise keeping most of their physical contact to a minimum due to their work schedules, and Jisung is unknowingly grateful for that.

But as he passes the large windows of the famed coffee shop, his eyes trail down and inside, suddenly catching sight of two familiar people sitting across from one another. He stops in his tracks, watching the two talk over what seemed like coffee, or well, at least Minho had coffee at one point. By the looks on their faces, whatever they were talking about was intense and emotional; Jisung couldn’t imagine what they could be discussing. He knew Seungmin was his ex, but didn’t know anymore than that. He didn’t have to know, it was Minho’s business after all, but something about this encounter was being waved as a massive red flag.

Seungmin stands and lingers for a moment before leaving, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie before exiting the shop and leaving Minho alone at the table. Jisung couldn’t tell if they left peacefully or disgruntled, but the urge to comfort the elder was ever present, and he couldn't stop himself. His hands find the door handle, swinging the door open and listening to the sweet chime that rings through the moment he enters, eyes glued to Minho the second he spots him.

“Minho?” Jisung asks as he walks closer, watching the elder jolt upright, nearly startled to be disrupted from his own thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright, Jisung. I’m happy to see you, actually. What brings you by?”

“Needed a break from work. Felix insisted that I take a walk to clear my head, and I’m not too sure if it’s helped.”

“Still stuck on that song?”

Shit. “Yeah. It’s a pain in my ass.”

“Want me to buy you something? I need another one myself.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to. Iced americano? Right?”

“Yeah.” Jisung smiles at him, watching Minho rise from his seat and grab for his empty cup. “Thank you.”

Minho walks past Jisung and towards the counter, ordering two more iced americanos before he spots the younger staring at the bakery window, eyes locked onto a blueberry muffin with enlarged longing.

“Do you want something?” Minho asks, almost ready to pull out his credit card.

“N-No, you don’t have to-”

“Just tell her what you’re pointing at Jisung. I’ll get one too.”

The girl behind the counter looks over to him, and he finds himself crumbling. “Okay, uhm. Two blueberry muffins then. Please.”

Minho smiles at him, waving his hand at Jisung to beckon him over after handing his card off to the young girl behind the counter. Minho takes his card back after it processes, shoving it back into his wallet before tucking it all away into his pocket. Jisung grabs Minho’s empty cup and throws it away in the trash to his left, patiently waiting at the counter silently until he felt like he couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“What were you doing here, Minho?”

“Hm?”

“I feel like it’s a random time of day to be at the shop, and I really wouldn’t have expected you to be here so late.”

“Ah, well, I needed a walk just like you. Lots on my mind.” Minho lies through his teeth and Jisung winces at the lie, biting his tongue. All he can do is nod at Minho’s response.

“Did you want to sit back down, or did you want to go back to yours? We can go to mine, too. Only if you wanna.”

“We can go to yours. It’ll be nice to get away from my desk.” Jisung swallows his discomfort, watching the barista approach with two freshly made americanos before disappearing again to grab their muffins.

“Alright. I didn’t drive here, by the way, so if you’re alright walking-”

“I walked here too, Minho.” Jisung scoffs and Minho smiles. “I’ll live.”

Chapter Text

Sometime later after hours spent chatting over a round table with empty coffee cups, Jisung and Minho find themselves entering into Minho’s apartment, greeted by a chorus of chirrups and mews. Jisung smiles at all of the cats, offering small waves to each of them as he walks a couple of steps into the apartment, making room for Minho to enter inside to close the door behind him.

“I’ll meet you on the couch, I just gotta feed the cats.” Minho says quietly, setting down his keys and kicking off his shoes. Jisung follows, kicking off his own shoes and heading further into the familiar apartment, walking past Soonie with a smile curled on his lips. Jisung kneels down, almost unable to ignore the purring cat, a careful hand being held out in front of the feline’s nose, allowing the innocent creature to sniff his hand before deciding to stroke the cat along the line of his back. Soonie purrs innocently, arching his back along Jisung’s pets, tail flicking upright happily.

“You’re just a cutie, aren’t you?” Jisung says softly, cooing quiet mews back at the cat who was meowing at him sweetly.

“He likes you,” Minho says quietly as he appears, walking around Jisung to place down two small bowls of dry cat food on the silicone mat to his left.

“Maybe he’s just being nice because he thinks I might have food.”

“No, he actually likes you.” Minho laughs, standing back up straight. “He usually hates everyone.”

“Still haven’t befriended the other two yet,” Jisung says quietly and Minho shrugs.

“They’ll come around.”

Jisung watches Minho disappear into the kitchen again but returns a few seconds later with a final bowl in his hand that he also sets down on the mat in line with the others. Jisung stands back up after giving Soonie a final scratch under his chin, allowing the cat the chance to eat if he chose to.

“It’s starting to get late,” Jisung notices, eyes turned towards the large, uncovered windows. “How long did we sit and talk at the cafe?”

“Probably like two hours.” Minho scoffs. “We tend to get carried away easily.”

“I just like your company,” Jisung rolls his eyes jokingly, strolling towards the couch, Minho not too far behind. “Sue me.”

“In what way do you enjoy my company?” Minho’s voice is very obviously teasing, and Jisung wants to hate him for it. Jisung sits down on the couch, Minho almost immediately following suit and sitting a few inches away, his hand softly landing on Jisung’s knee.

“I know what you’re insinuating,” Jisung laughs. “But if it makes you feel better or whatever, in both ways. Are you happy now?”

“Hearing you say it does fuel my ego, yes.” Minho laughs too, hand squeezing Jisung’s knee slightly.

Jisung’s eyes trail towards the hold on his leg, and something inside of him wants to dislike the way he wanted Minho’s hands all over his body. He thinks too deeply into the touch, too deeply into all of this; only because he can’t stand how much he wants him.

Minho is warm, gentle and overbearingly loving – and Jisung absolutely loathes him for it.

Jisung wants to hate him. He wants to hate how he makes him feel so badly, but he can’t resist Minho’s smile and his touch, complying to his every will as he melts and lets himself indulge in what seems like a fantasy. Being around Minho made him feel crazed, stuck in a loop of addictive thoughts and procrastination, only because Jisung found himself stuck on the thought of Minho’s lips on his.

“Jisung?” Minho asks, his hand gently raising to tap the fabric on the younger’s knee.

“Hm? What?” Jisung blinks and turns to face Minho, eyes gazing over the elder’s face curiously. Minho’s brow was raised, head slightly tilted as he studied the younger, words lingering on the edge of his tongue.

“Where’d you go?”

“I didn’t go anywhere, I’m right here–”

“I get that, smartass. But you just like. . . disappeared on me. Were you in your head or something?”

“Oh,” Jisung’s gaze falls away, staring back at Minho’s hand again. “Yeah, I do that sometimes. Sorry. Did you say something to me and I missed it?”

“All I asked was if you wanted to stay here again, but you were staring a hole into your lap so I got a bit concerned.”

“You really want me to stay here again?” Jisung raises his gaze, heart cracking with the knowledge knowing that he really wanted to stay, but knowing even more so that he shouldn’t.

“I like having you around Jisung.” Minho’s hand turns inwards, now settling on the interior of his thigh in a more intimate hold, one Jisung can’t bear to dislike. “Having you here just makes all of my stress go away. Work has been really hard on me lately and I find myself wanting to call you when I need to decompress.”

“Aw, you like me that much?” Jisung smiles, voice raising in pitch slightly; teasingly. “Minho-hyung likes me too much, huh? Doesn’t he?”

“Alright,” Minho rolls his eyes, smacking Jisung’s thigh. “Yes, yes! Fine. I do. We just, I dunno, fit well together. Don’t you think?”

God, Jisung hates how true the statement was, but he finds himself unable to disagree as his own laughter dies down. “Yeah, so what? Are we soulmates now?”

“You’re really insufferable sometimes,” Minho laughs and Jisung bites his lower lip.

“Let’s get married.”

“Jesus, shut up.” Minho’s cheeks are flushed, and Jisung despises how much he loved seeing him like this.

“Minho-hyung,” Jisung coos, head tilting sideways more, a glimmer of affection in his eyes. “Why else d’you want me to stay the night?”

Minho’s face reddens. “I-I dunno–”

“You do know.” Jisung laughs. “Just admit it.”

“It’s part of our agreement, isn’t it? We fuck around, make eachother feel better, then go back to being friends?”

“It is,” Jisung raises a brow. “What’re you getting at?”

“I’m just saying,” Minho takes a breath, gaze suddenly avoiding. “I like our relationship, or friendship, whatever you wanna call it. It’s comfortable, I guess. There’s no pressure, no expectation–”

“I get what you mean.” Jisung hums, brows slightly furrowing.

“I just really like being around you, alright?” Minho swallows nervously, and Jisung wills himself to stay still on the couch, wanting to press closer and kiss the anxiety from his lungs; Jisung, again, loathes it all .

“Minho?”

“What?”

“Let’s go lay down.” Jisung’s hand reaches down, sinking into the space lingering between Minho’s palm and his own thigh, entrapping Minho’s hand within his own.

“It’s barely six, are you that tired?”

“Minho, you’re so dense sometimes.” Jisung scoffs, standing from the couch, hand pulling Minho with him. Minho barely bothers to fight.

“I’m dense?”

“I’m literally propositioning you, idiot.” Jisung watches Minho’s cheeks redden again. “Do you wanna go to bed with me or not?”

“Well, when you put it that way–”

“Oh my god, I hate you,” Jisung laughs, even though he knew he really never could hate him.

Jisung drags him into the bedroom, hands still tangled between them, pulling and pulling until he spins them around, planting himself in front of Minho. Breaths are heavy with anticipation, hands finding Minho’s chest as he pushes him towards the bed, almost immediately crawling on top of him. Minho drinks up the sight of it, teeth biting down on his bottom lip, head tilting back as he shuffles further into the bed with Jisung following him willingly.

Jisung pushes the bottom of Minho’s shirt upwards, hands smoothing over the elder’s abs and skin, pressing his lips to each dip and curve of Minho’s abdomen before licking a wet stripe up his navel.

“Jisung–” Minho groans, hands gripping onto the comforter beneath him.

“You said you’re stressed, hyung?” Jisung mutters quietly, kissing his stomach again.

“Very.” Minho breathily answers, eyes watching Jisung as if he was the sun, moon and all of the stars himself.

“Let me take care of you.” Jisung’s hands move to slide up Minho’s side, pulling the shirt further upwards until Minho basically rips it over his head, tossing the fabric aside, hands reaching for Jisung’s face as he tries to pull the younger up towards him. Jisung smiles at him, dipping his head back down, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses up Minho’s body, kissing each of his collarbones before rising further to his throat. Minho’s hands find Jisung’s shirt, pulling and tugging until Jisung slides it over his head, discarding it somewhere on the floor next to Minho’s.

Jisung is careful and slow, kissing the skin that hovers over Minho’s pulse tenderly, dragging his teeth overtop with every aching kiss. Minho is a squirming mess, haphazardly reaching for Jisung’s waistline, dragging his fingers beneath the hem to travel underneath, timidly touching the flesh between his legs.

“Greedy, hyung–” Jisung breathes, kissing his neck, then his jaw, hesitating on the urge to kiss his lips.

“Just fucking touch me, Jisung–” Minho whines. “Please.”

Jisung complies, hands quickly shoving Minho’s pants off his waist and down his legs, helping the elder discard them over the edge of the bed. Jisung turns his attention back to Minho’s now naked body, leaning down and kissing the skin on his pelvis, lingering closer and closer to his crotch with every breathing second. Minho’s hand leaves Jisung’s body entirely, snapping to grab onto the comforter again the second Jisung licks a stripe teasingly along Minho’s aching flesh.

“Jesus. Christ.” Minho breathes, head tilted back, eyes screwed shut.

“Relax,” Jisung says sweetly, glancing up to look at Minho. “Trust me.”

Minho doesn’t bother to argue, only letting out a breathy groan the second he feels Jisung’s mouth coat him in warmth. Minho could fall apart easily like this, hands gripping his comforter for dear life as he feels the stress bundled in his chest begin to dissipate.

“You’re so good,” Minho chokes out, a hand reaching upright to thread into Jisung’s hair. “So fucking good, Jisung.”

Jisung hums against him, continuing on for another minute before he feels Minho’s hand grip into his hair tighter. Jisung pulls off with a staggered breath, looking down at Minho. “Not yet–”

Jisung kisses his pelvis again, hand reaching up to grab onto Minho’s wrist. “You can’t yet.”

“Please keep touching me.” Minho gently pulls Jisung towards him, hands cupped around his jawline, blinking up at him with flushed cheeks and watery eyes. “You’re driving me insane.”

“I know,” Jisung smiles, eyes glancing down at Minho’s lips. He wants to kiss him, he really does. But the more Jisung allows himself to kiss Minho like this, the stronger his feelings are and the more he begins to hate Minho for it. Minho is begging silently, wanting to be free of his stressful job, pleading for more intimacy and more touches, wanting Jisung completely in his dark bedroom. So, Jisung gives in. One more time, he thinks. I’ll give in one more time.

Jisung’s lips are pressed against his, careful, languid; everything Minho needed right then. Jisung’s stomach twists and he suddenly realizes that he hates this. He hates how much he likes kissing Minho and how perfect he feels against him, the sudden turmoil swirling in his abdomen ever present, more so than normal. Jisung breaks away, eyes shut tight, ignoring the thoughts screaming within him before he feels Minho’s eyes on him.

“Stay with me,” Minho mutters quietly, hands moving to rest behind the base of Jisung’s neck.

Jisung wants to say he can’t, wants to explain that he doesn’t want to keep doing all of this because he’s so incredibly addicted to how Minho smiles and how he tastes, let alone how he feels, but Minho is exactly that; addictive. Jisung can’t pull away, he can’t leave and he can’t mess up everything he had with him. He’s selfish, sure, but he’d continue to be selfish as long as Minho was in his life.

“I’m here.” Jisung breathes, eyes blinking back open. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Are we doing too much? Do you need to stop?” Minho asks worriedly, but Jisung shakes his head adamantly, trying to force a smile onto his lips.

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me, I wanna focus on you, okay?”

“We can stop, Jisung, we don’t have to–”

“I want to.” Jisung doesn’t waver, and Minho falls silent. Jisung leans down to press kisses against Minho’s throat again, hands touching any skin they could get a hold of. Minho allows himself to let go, breathing escalating as Jisung helps him unravel again.

Jisung indulges still, prepping himself and Minho slowly, carefully; allowing himself to take all the time in the world because he’s certain that he’s going to put an end to all of this. Jisung thinks he’s going to say that this is the last time that they’ll do this and that they’ll just go back to being just friends, ridding themselves of the closeness that always stirred tension between them.

Jisung wishes that they didn’t have to stop, but he knows they have to, otherwise the dreadful L-word might tumble from his lips in a drunken haze of lust and passion. Somehow, that word terrified him more than anything else.

An hour later, Jisung finds himself alone in bed, eyes staring out into the cityscape, counting each light that shined from buildings across the street. Minho was in the shower after offering for Jisung to come and shower with him, but Jisung said no. He feels like his heart is breaking and shattering, unaware of how much he really likes Minho. His company and his presence alone drove Jisung insane because all he really wanted was Minho’s lips on his.

He really can’t afford a relationship right now, not when he’s barely making enough money to afford his rent and when he’s unable to produce a single damn song. He hates how content he is, how alive he feels, not allowing himself to feel lonely when Minho wraps his arms around him and coos gentle praise into his ear. They were so annoyingly compatible that it was nearly disgusting; Jisung almost hated it.

“Do you need anything?” Minho asks after he opens the ensuite bathroom door, fresh clothes attached to his body with a towel in his hand.

Time. Patience. Understanding. “No.”

Minho’s brow furrows, but Jisung can’t see it. “Alright. I’ll be back in a second.”

Jisung sighs, ignoring the footsteps he hears behind him as Minho trudges around, cleaning up their shared mess from earlier without a single word. Jisung just listens, quietly breathing and staring out of the window. His mind is a mess, his heart worse for the matter, all strung along by the will to keep Minho in his life. He wants nothing more than to keep their friendship alive, but Jisung isn’t completely sure if he’ll ever be able to be just friends after this.

“Are you okay?” Minho asks, sliding beneath the covers behind Jisung.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jisung blinks away the tears threatening to spill over his bottom lashes, taking a deep breath. “Just tired.”

Minho could sense that something was wrong, but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want any of this to end. Specifying that there was an issue between them would bring feelings to the forefront that they both obviously wanted to avoid, so he says nothing, allowing silence to radiate in the tense space between them. Minho sinks down to the bed, head greeting the pillow, pulling the comforter up to his shoulders. He’s lying on his back, eyes staring up into the ceiling, breathing quietly next to Jisung.

Minho’s head tilts slightly, turning to trail over Jisung’s back, counting his breaths the deeper they rolled. Minho couldn’t tell if he was actually sleeping or just avoiding him, so he stayed silent, turning back towards the ceiling with wordless contempt.

He wants to reach out, wants to hold him; but the fear of rejection grabs his heart and squeezes, keeping him steady where he was. He knows that this is likely going to disappear when he wakes up, letting go of the feelings he was starting to understand the more the younger was around.

He just liked him and he really couldn’t help it.

The cats did too, which was a bonus in his eyes, but even more so that they approached him without fear. Soonie never bothered to show Hyunjin and Chris the same affection, so what made Jisung so different?

“What? Are we soulmates now?” Minho remembers when the words tumbled from Jisung’s lips so casually, as if there was no meaning behind the words at all. Minho swears something was laced with intent, deeply embedded within the sentence as Jisung looked at him with a glimmer in his eyes. He meant what he said. He knew Jisung was being truthfully curious. He knew Jisung wanted him just as much as he wanted him, too. Minho really couldn’t bring himself to deny it any longer.

Minho’s eyes begin to lull closed, snapping back open in fear of all of this disappearing. He turns again, looking at Jisung’s back, only to realize that Jisung’s breaths were hitching slightly and were no longer deep. Was he crying? And was he crying over Minho no less?

Minho wants to reach over, hands struggling to remain contained beneath the blanket, but Jisung gets out of the bed carefully, tossing the comforter to the side as he paces towards the bathroom and shuts the door. Minho sits upright, unsure of whether he should chase after him or remain in bed, pretending to be asleep in fear that Jisung would ask to go home. But knowing that Jisung was crying behind that door was a lot worse than the fear of him leaving. Minho tosses the blanket off of his legs and heads for the door, raising his hand towards the handle.

“Jisung?” Minho asks timidly, afraid to open the door. “Are you alright?”

Before Minho can even dare to open the door, Jisung opens it for him, eyes red and tears streamed down his face. “I need you to stop kissing me.”

“Wha-?”

“I-I want to keep having sex and I want to keep seeing you, but I can’t keep kissing you like that. Kissing is really intimate to me, and I think my brain is starting to get confused and I don’t want to catch feelings for you Minho, not when we agreed not to–”

“Hey, hey, that’s okay.” Minho’s heart breaks, but he swallows the visible pain on his face to settle into something softer and hidden, hoping Jisung wouldn’t see it.

“I’m sorry I’m a fucking mess right now.” Jisung wipes away the tears leaking from his eyes, but Minho reaches hesitantly for Jisung’s face, cleaning salty streaks off of slightly reddened, round cheeks. Jisung doesn’t move and he allows Minho to do this, looking at him as if he held the universe in his hands for him.

“We’re friends, Jisung. Your mess is mine too. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” Jisung swallows, eyes looking down, afraid and unsure.

“Do you wanna just try and sleep?” Minho watches Jisung waver the options internally, almost regretting asking in the first place. Surely Jisung wanted to go home to earn some space – but why did Jisung look as if he was about to say otherwise?

“I-” Jisung sighs, hands and arms folding against his bare chest. “I don’t know what I want.”

The words sting more than Minho realizes at first, biting his tongue while taking a small step backwards, hands falling back to his sides. Jisung has never acted like this before, and Minho isn’t sure if he was the problem or the solution.

“If you want me to take you home, I can take you home, Jisung. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

“I think it would be best. I’m a little too confused right now, and I just don’t wanna hurt you because I can’t control myself.” Jisung’s tone is painfully sad, and all Minho wants to do is hug him. But he never does.

“I’ll get my keys, just get your stuff and meet me at the door, okay?”

“Yeah.” Jisung sniffles, avoiding eye contact still.

Minho turns away, opening his bedroom door slightly to slip out into the hall, greeting his cats with quiet hellos as they meow at him needily. Minho rounds the corner, eyes hazily looking around his surroundings before finding his keyring, bending down to lace his sneakers on his feet before standing back upright and waiting at the main door.

Jisung comes around the corner, hair messy, eyes bloodshot and teary, shirt barely hanging on his shoulders properly as he moves towards the door, bending down to tie on his shoes.

“I’m sorry, Minho.” Jisung mutters, standing upright. Minho eyes him carefully, swallowing the urge to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t be sorry, Jisung.” Minho consoles, hand reaching for the handle. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Jisung nods, following Minho out of the door the moment he swings it open.

Minho leads him through the apartment complex, quiet and solemn, heading down the elevator in somber silence. Jisung doesn’t bother to interrupt the silence, following diligently as Minho leads him towards his sedan.

The car unlocks, headlights brightening the moment Minho presses buttons on the keyfob, illuminating the dull concrete ahead of them. Jisung walks to the passenger door, blinking away the exhaustion pulling at his eyes as he waits for Minho to enter the car first.

Car doors slam and the engine hums to life, both males clicking their seatbelts in as Minho shifts his car into gear, lightly pressing on the gas pedal to move out of his designated parking space. Jisung leans back into his seat, head tilted to the left, gaze facing towards the window.

Everything is a blur. Passing buildings and cars, people out walking on nearby sidewalks and crosswalks, the rising moon lingering in the night sky overhead to shine brighter than nearly every cloud-casted star. Minho drives with one hand on the wheel, the other settled on the gearshift, eyes hardly ever breaking away from the road ahead. Jisung wants to say something, but finds himself biting his tongue.

This was awkward, and far from the relationship they had once started. Something new was met within the roots of their budding mess, coating its branches that stem from the trunk of their tree in a hazy slush of confusion and resentment.

Jisung really wants to stop and Minho really wants to give in. Two polar opposite reactions for two people who were supposed to be more intune with each other than they ever have been with anyone else.

They were only sitting within a few inches of one another, but they felt so incredibly far apart.

The night passes, bringing Jisung to lay in racing quiet within his studio apartment flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with the hope that everything will stop.

The thoughts, the feelings, the kisses and the touching; all of it. He needs it to stop.

He hates himself, more than he’s hated anything. Jisung knew this pain wasn’t worth it, but he wanted nothing more than to have Minho in his life. He was risking every ounce of mental fortitude he had left to indulge in this non-existent relationship, selfishly attaching himself to Minho in every instance he could; because he wanted to. He shouldn’t, he knew that, but he never allowed himself to think into fleeting feelings that he was sure would disappear once the smoke had settled from a heated night spent at each other’s throats.

He’s in pain, but he can’t tell if he wants to be in pain or if he wants to be free of it. Everything within him was begging, pleading almost, for something. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore, but loneliness was all he ever knew. Felix and Seungmin tried their best, but a life spent only worrying about himself spared him all of the turmoil that he was feeling now.

Minho was everything he could’ve asked for in a partner, yet here he was, denying a future with him because he can’t convince himself that he can give Minho the love and time he deserved.

A crashing producer, one solely focused on freelance work with a drive to perfect every song he worked on in sacrifice of a perfect sleeping routine, suddenly becomes flustered over a quiet bartender who liked to dance in his free time. What a fucking sad fairy tale, Jisung thinks. I don’t deserve him. He doesn’t deserve to deal with the mess that is me.

Jisung rolls over, facing the wall, back turned towards the empty apartment. The darkness is comforting, almost like an isolating hug, but one he welcomes the second his eyes close with bridging tears. He hates how much he wants Minho. He truly, fully hates it.

He wants him like he wants air. He wants him like he wants companionship. He just fucking wants him and him alone, and that was enough to be terrifying in itself.

But Jisung falls asleep, sad and isolated, yet somehow comforted by the fact that Minho was not there.

Minho wakes with a heavy heart. He spent thirty minutes lingering in his bed, cuddling Dori as he blinked through memories that settled uneasily within his stomach. Jisung felt distant and afraid, everything he normally wasn’t. Minho isn’t sure what he did wrong, or what went wrong in general, but the fear of never seeing Jisung again was overwhelming.

They had grown close over the last few weeks of their touch and go intimacy, seeing another side of each other that felt irreversible. It almost felt other worldly, completely connected on a level neither male would ever be able to comprehend. It’s only then that Minho realizes that every ounce of his feelings are suddenly unrequited and his own. Jisung didn’t share them, at least not anymore.

He could accept it and learn to live with it, only if that meant keeping Jisung in his life. He could continue their beneficial relationship, willing to go through the consequences of breaking his own heart if it meant that Jisung would never leave. Part of him knows that he needs to break it off before someone gets hurt, but the urge to remain selfish is ever present. Jisung was selfish too, kissing him when he knew he shouldn’t and flirting so openly as if his words held no weight. Minho didn’t know if Jisung ever meant what he said, but the younger always held an ounce of sincerity in his eyes, regardless of what crap tumbled from his sarcastic lips.

Minho doesn’t want any of it to go away. But the longer they continue, the harder it will be to stop.

Buzz. Buzz.

Minho rolls over and away from his cats, hand reaching for his charging phone on the table beside him. His eyes blink awake twice before focusing on the screen in front of him, reading a message held within a group chat he didn’t know existed.

Bang Chan

My pool house is open this weekend in Jeju. We can leave tomorrow and stay there for the next couple of days. Let me know what you all think!

Minho rolls his eyes. Of fucking course this would happen after Jisung abruptly leaves after an awkward encounter. Minho bites the interior of his cheek, hesitating, thumbs hovering over his digital keyboard as he thinks into the possibility of going. But, before he can type anything, a notification unexpectedly rings through.

Han Jisung

I have a lot of work to do. I won’t be able to go.

Hope everyone else enjoys it.

The rest of the group begins to text back, but Minho can’t be too fucked to read any of it.

A breath of relief sinks into Minho’s lungs as he lets his phone fall to his chest, staring at his ceiling almost as if he was thanking whatever magical force held a cloud over him. He slides away from the group chat, tapping on Chris’s individual message chain, typing quickly.

I’ll go. Something happened with Jisung, so I didn't want to text in the GC.

I’ll explain later.

Bang Chan

I wanna hear about it. I’ll drive you there.

Meet me at my house around noon tomorrow.

Sounds like a fucking plan.

I need to get out of this apartment.

A day later, Minho finds himself walking to Chris’s house with a duffel bag strapped around his shoulder. Headphones in, music blaring, eyes focused on the path ahead; he finally felt at peace knowing he could get away from the whirlwind of a life he was leaving behind. Thanks to his countless hours he’s shifted into his bartending job, the person he was covering for was now covering for him, leaving him with a few days off to decompress. He truly needed to think about what was in store for himself and for his future with Jisung, contemplating on coming clean with his feelings or just breaking it all off.

There was a level of hesitance embedded within him as he tosses the idea around of dating his ex’s best friend, but he also can’t imagine a life without Jisung in it. He’s stuck, again, wondering when the universe will give him a sign that pointed in the right direction. He’s hardly ever felt this confused about his love life, let alone his fucking sex life, but having someone like Jisung in your life really does something to you. That was just a fact.

Before he knows it, he’s turning down a tree-lined street, pacing towards a fancier house that Chris rented during the summer. It was a nicer home, one that Minho definitely couldn’t afford, but Chris had two jobs and a wealthy family on top of that, splitting rent with one of his older friends from college with the support of his parents as needed.

Chris offered the roommate spot to Minho two years ago, but that was also around the time that Minho was getting ready to move in with Seungmin, so the timing could not have been worse.

“Channie!” Minho bellows at his friend’s front door after he arrives, hands in the pocket of his hoodie with his head tilted back. He’s impatient, as usual, standing in wait on Chris’s front porch while he listens to heavy footsteps rumble through the house and its staircase.

“Minho!” Chris says brightly as he swings the door open, arms outstretched as if he was going to give Minho a hug. Minho simply grimaces.

“I’ve been waiting out here for a year.”

“It was barely three minutes.” Chris scoffs. “You’re being dramatic. Come inside–”

Chris waves Minho in, gently rushing the male indoors before shutting the front door behind him. “Tell me about Jisung.”

“God, right to the point, huh?”

“Well, I gotta know. Something happened, right? You seem like you’re trying to avoid him.” Chris holds his hand out in a wordless attempt to take Minho’s bag from him, and Minho complies.

“Yeah.” He sighs, handing over his bag to the elder. “Things got weird. I don’t really even know how when things were going good and everything was fine, now all of the sudden he’s reserved and closed off.”

“Well, what happened?” Chris slings Minho’s bag over his shoulder, slowly leading him into the living space before setting down the bag and plopping onto the couch, watching Minho follow suit slowly.

“I invited him over two days ago. We accidentally met each other at the coffee shop the same day I talked to Seungmin.”

“Oh dear god,” Chris shakes his head.

“They didn’t see each other! They don’t know anything. . . I don’t think.”

“You don’t think?”

“I dunno, they’re best friends. I don’t know if Jisung wanted Seungmin to know, and I don’t think he knows what happened between Seungmin and I.”

“But he knows you dated him?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to lie to him about it.”

“But you’re avoiding telling Jisung about the cheating thing because–?”

“Oh my god, Chan, you’re making me regret coming here.”

“Relax!” Chris laughs, hands reaching over to touch Minho’s. “Listen, I will only ever look out for you, okay? You were my friend long before Seungmin and Jisung were, so I will always look out for you first.”

“I know that.” Minho sighs.

“Tell me what else happened.”

“Jisung came back home with me. We. .  y’know, had sex again. But, it was different from the other times. He didn’t want to shower with me and he didn’t want to talk to me really, he was avoiding me. I couldn’t really get him to look at me.”

“That is a bit odd.” Chris furrows his brows. “He didn’t mention anything about wanting to stop or wanting to break it off?”

“No. He told me that he wanted to keep going and that he wanted to keep having sex, but then he asked me to stop kissing him because it was too intimate. Which, I don’t completely understand. What does he even mean by that? Is us literally having sex not intimate to him? I just don’t get it.”

“I just think he means that intimacy to him might involve being in love with the person, and he probably doesn’t want to catch feelings for you. You guys agreed to not catch feelings, right?”

“That’s what being friends with benefits entails.”

“That’s the root of it then. It might just be too much for him right now, so just give him a little space and some time to clear his head. He clearly likes you enough to wanna keep sleeping with you, but he just doesn’t want to get attached. Kissing tends to make people feel attached.”

“I mean. . . not for me at least.” Minho shrugs, trying to act oblivious to his own feelings, but Chris was hardly buying it.

“If you say so.” Chris avoids, not wanting to pry any further into the conversation. Minho shifts slightly uncomfortable in his seat, hesitating on the truth lingering on his tongue. Chris doesn’t seem to notice.

“So Jisung isn’t going? At all?”

“No, as far as I know, he isn’t. Felix, Hyunjin and Seungmin are all coming.”

“Seungmin knows I’m going to be there, right?”

“I told him. He said he didn’t mind.” Chris watches Minho’s gaze cast down towards the hardwood floor, stuck on the thought of their conversation awkwardly held two days ago.

“I guess the talk worked, then. I didn’t think it went well.”

“He didn’t say anything to me.” Chris shrugs, watching Minho look towards him again, almost lighter; a weight lifted off of his chest.

“That’s good.” Minho breathes, relieved. “Uhm, when are we leaving?”

“We can leave whenever. If you wanna go now, we can head up now and beat everyone else there. Otherwise, I gave Hyunjin a spare key in case he beat me there with the other two.”

“Nah, let’s leave now. I could use the drive to sort out my head before I choose to ignore it all.”

“I get it.” Chris smiles at him. “Let me get my stuff and we can head out.”

“Alright,” Minho rises from the couch, hand grabbing onto his bag as he moves towards the front door, shifting weight between both of his feet as he waits for his friend to grab his belongings.

They pack the car, lock the house, and head towards the airport, passing time by singing songs and chatting, sometimes sitting in comfortable silence. Minho avoided looking at his phone, trying to gaze out of the window to glance at passing cars to keep his mind busy. But before Minho realizes it, they’re boarding the plane and quickly landing, hopping into a rental car that would drive them towards the modern beach home.

The building is relatively small, fitted with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a basement filled to the brim with games and a large television. The home was mostly white, finished with black-framed windows and dark trim, decorated landscaping brightening the facade of the overall building. Minho knew Chris’s parents took great care of their summer home, and he simply could not wait to crash into his temporary bedroom to forget all the stressors of his current love life.

“Ah,” Chris hums as he gets out of the silver rental. “Looks like they beat us here.”

“Bummer.” Minho scoffs, closing his door before heading towards the trunk after Chris pressed the button on the keyfob. Minho wrangles their belongings, slinging his own bag over his shoulders while holding Chris’s, slamming the trunk shut afterwards. He walks over to Chris, handing his bag over, following the elder towards the front door as he unlocks it and begins to trek inside.

“Hello?” Chris shouts, listening to chatter and footsteps break out from the living space down the hall. Chris and Minho both kick off their shoes, closing the door behind them as Hyunjin appears.

“Channie!” Hyunjin smiles, arms outstretched as he walks closer and engulfs him in a hug, eyes peeking up to see Minho staring at him with his brow raised. “What Minho-hyung? D’you wanna hug too?”

“Nope, I’m good, Hyunjin.” Minho smiles, eyes glancing away as Hyunjin comes closer, hand reaching to pat the elder on the back of his neck.

“I’m glad you’re here Minho–” Hyunjin hums. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah, weirdo. I missed you, too.”

“Lixie!” Hyunjin turns and yells, head tilting to the side as his devoted partner (or whatever they were labeling themselves as) appears from around the corner. “The boys are here!”

Felix smiles at both of them with a nervous wave, gaze switching from all three males before settling onto Hyunjin. “We’ve got a movie going. We can put your stuff somewhere later!”

Hyunjin places his hands behind the backs of both males, forcing them forwards with little resistance as they trudge through the hall, leaving their bags at the front door.

“We’re watching some hero movie Jisung recommended.” Felix mentions lightly, catching Minho’s attention almost immediately.

“Jisung? I thought he–” His heart stops. Minho rounds the corner of the doorframe, eyes gazing towards the couch as he spots Seungmin and Jisung sitting next to one another, both looking directly back at him.

Oh shit.

Chapter Text

“Thought I what?” Jisung deadpans, unamused with his head slightly tilted, voice a cent lower than his usual happy tone.

Minho feels like he can’t breathe. He specifically went on this trip to get away from all of the stress he left behind over an hour away, wanting to clear his head and find a sense of peace, but here he was, sitting and looking at two of the stressors in his life. “Thought you didn’t like superhero movies.”

Jisung eyes him curiously, and Minho hopes his lie would be enough to cover the surprise lingering in his eyes. “I don’t like most of them. But I like watching the first Avengers movie?”

“Ah,” Minho averts his gaze, taking a breath. “I was mistaken, then.”

“Come sit,” Felix invites, smacking the couch cushion beside him. Chris doesn’t bother to hesitate, settling on the sofa comfortably as his eyes turn towards the television. Minho stands there almost dumbfounded, shifting the weight between his feet as Hyunjin eyes him worriedly.

“Actually–” Minho mutters out. “Can I go lay down for a bit? The plane made me a bit tired.”

“Yeah,” Chris leans away from the back of the couch, pointing down the hall that was to Minho’s right. “There’s two guest rooms down here and two rooms upstairs. Has anyone picked rooms yet?”

“Nope,” Hyunjin hums. “Wanted to wait for you two slow pokes before we did anything.”

“Do you guys mind if I pick a room upstairs, then?” Minho watches everyone shrug and shake their head absentmindedly. He nods back, turning on his heel to enter back within the entryway. Minho listens to the group begin to settle back into silence as they listen to the movie play, hands reaching for his bag as he turns and begins his trek up the stairs. Each step is slow and careful, waiting to see if Jisung would follow him upstairs, but by the time he reaches the top, he notices that no one rises from the couch.

Three doors appear in the short hall, and Minho makes it a point to choose the farthest bedroom. His feet steadily lead him to safety as he peaks into the room, greeted by the sight of large open windows, a perfectly made bed, a small dresser and a small chair in the corner of the room.

Minho tosses his bag onto the dresser before flopping back-first onto the bed, sighing in relief the moment he greets the plush comforter and mattress.

Jisung being here on this trip wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it definitely foiled Minho’s plan to relax. Maybe they could talk and smooth things out before anything got even more awkward, but Minho wasn’t sure if Jisung wanted that. Minho knows he has to communicate his needs and feelings, but the other night, Jisung sounded like he didn’t even want to talk about his own feelings besides them being confusing, which leads Minho back into a dead end.

“Minho’ah?” A voice asks outside in the hall, stirring Minho’s attention towards his door that he left slightly ajar. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah.” Minho responds, watching Hyunjin enter inside from the hall.

“You seem off.” Hyunjin says timidly, shutting the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you even know a fraction of what’s going on? Has Chan told you anything?”

“Not really. I heard from Felix that you’ve been hooking up with Jisung, but otherwise I don’t know anything.”

“Are you and Felix together again?” Minho raises his brow, elbows holding his torso upright as he leans and looks at Hyunjin who shrugs and shakes his head.

“No. I don’t know what we are. We can talk about that later because I wanna know what’s up with you.”

“There’s not much to say. I’m hooking up with my ex’s best friend. Jisung and I had sex recently and he has been really awkward to me since. We’re just friends with benefits, so it’s not like we’re dating or anything, but he’s just randomly distant and not willing to talk to me.”

“Did he tell you that he wanted to quit or anything?”

“No. He was insistent that he wanted to keep meeting up and stuff, but he wanted us to stop kissing and shit, so I’m just left confused. I get that we agreed to not get any feelings involved, but it just came on so suddenly.”

“Did you ever stop to think that he probably has feelings for you?” Hyunjin’s question brings a pit to form in Minho’s stomach. Of course he’s thought about it, but he never would admit to it. His own feelings were confusing as is, so dealing with the mindset of thinking into feelings from both parties was way too much.

“He doesn’t.” Minho denies and Hyunjin scoffs.

“You’re blind.”

“He told me that he doesn’t! He said that we needed to stop kissing before he started to have feelings for me. There’s no attachment. There’s no partnership and no relationship. We’re just fucking eachother because it’s convenient.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen at the bite to Minho’s words, but he folds his arms against his chest. “Hyung, I am not gonna sit here and listen to you lie to me. Try again.”

“Hyunjin, you’re kind of pissing me off right now–”

“I don’t give a fuck. Listen,” Hyunjin moves to sit down next to Minho, eyes avoiding for a moment as his words continue to tumble from his tongue. “My own relationship is a fucking nightmare because I can’t communicate how I feel. I’m afraid of feeling anything because people leave. People abandon me. I didn’t want to admit how much I liked Felix because of the fear of being left. So I left him instead. Time and time again because I’m a selfish, scared asshole. I hurt Felix so bad that I ruined his trust for me, and now, I have to fight for his trust back. I’m scared to tell him how I feel, sure, but it’s not gonna stop me from being honest.”

“So you haven’t told him yet?”

“I wanted to take him out somewhere while we’re in Jeju to tell him. I’ve been trying to be more loving and more affectionate, but he’s been avoiding me a bit lately.”

“I’m sorry, Hyunjin. I didn’t know any of this–”

“Chan doesn’t know either. I didn’t want to dump my shit onto you, but I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. I fucked up bad, and now I’m gonna spend a long time undoing everything I did to him. Jisung is kind and smart, and from what Felix told me, he seems to like you a lot. It’s worth fighting for, hyung. You’ve just gotta talk to him.”

Minho’s hands mess with the hem of his athletic shorts, sitting further upright now with his eyes descended into his lap. Hyunjin was right, not that he normally was, and Minho finds himself wondering why both Chris and Hyunjin could see the spark between both males, but neither of them could see it themselves.

“Talking is scary, Hyunjin.” Minho admits, teeth grabbing onto his tongue. “Last time I did that, I got broken up with and left.”

“Well you were also a fucking idiot then. You deserved that because you cheated. This is different. I know you, Minho, and I know you wouldn’t fuck up like that twice. Seungmin didn’t deserve what you did to him, but Jisung doesn’t deserve this either.”

Fuck. Minho sighs. Hyunjin really was right.

“After you went upstairs hyung, Jisung’s eyes never left the hallway you left into. I think he was wondering if he should chase after you, but he was too hesitant. I think he’s afraid you might resent him for whatever happened between you two last.”

“I–” Minho breathes, fingers gripping onto his shorts tighter. “I’m afraid to hurt him.”

“I know.” Hyunjin’s tone is softer now, hand reaching behind Minho’s back to gently stroke the skin his palm greets.

“I was stupid with Seungmin. It was so rushed and so fast, I lost the ability to tell him what I wanted because I was scared he would hate me for wanting to take a break. I just wanted some time to myself to figure out everything and then I would come back and try to make things work–”

“You guys wouldn’t have lasted, hyung. He loved you too much, and you didn’t love him enough. Two years is a long time to be with someone, but it’s okay to fall out of love.”

“It’s not okay to cheat on them, though.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But you’ve gotta learn to forgive yourself.”

“I know.” Minho sighs, rolling his eyes defeatedly. “I’ve been trying to. Jisung makes me want to. I just hate how much I find myself wanting him. I just want to be around him all the time, and I find myself wanting to call him and text him all the time–”

“It sounds like you have feelings for him, Minho.” Minho’s heart drops. Hyunjin stays quiet for a second, allowing his words to sink in if Minho needed the time to seek the truth between his statements. Minho never wanted to admit it, but Hyunjin was deathly right. “You don’t have to tell me if you do or if you don’t. But I think while we’re here for the next four days, you’ve gotta pull him aside and talk to him.”

“I will. I’ll try.” Minho finally raises his gaze to look at Hyunjin, trying to smile but it never reaches his eyes.

“Okay.” Hyunjin nods at him, patting his back gently. “Take a breather up here, alright? I’m gonna head back down and watch the movie. I think Felix mentioned wanting to go swimming earlier, so I’ll call for you when we’re going in the pool.”

“I appreciate it.” Minho tries to smile again, watching Hyunjin rise from the bed and make his way towards the door. “But, hey. Hyunjin?”

“Yeah?” Hyunjin turns around, hand settled on the door handle.

“Thanks for talking to me.”

“We’re friends, hyung. It’s what we do, right?”

“Right.” Minho nods at him as Hyunjin finally leaves.

Minho sinks back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling with the urge to cry. He was overwhelmed by the truth lingering in his heart, and instead of crying it out, he takes a breath and closes his eyes, hopeful that the feelings would go away if he just ignored them.

“Minho!” A voice calls up the stairs, just barely stirring Minho awake from the nap he accidentally fell into. Minho rises from his bed groggily, wiping away at his eyes as he pulls away from his state of sleep. “We’re heading outside! Come join us!”

Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said he’d call for him, but Minho didn’t expect to be woken from his nap so abruptly. He didn’t know how long he had been sleeping, nor did he remember even falling asleep, but here he was now, looking around his room lazily trying to recall that last couple of hours.

He stumbles towards his bag resting on the dresser, opening it and pulling out its contents neatly, making sure to not make his room a pigsty. Once he finally finds his swim trunks, he takes his time changing his clothes, keeping his gray t-shirt on while replacing his athletic shorts with swim shorts instead. He grabs his phone and heads out of the room, strolling down the hall until he begins his descent down the stairs, hand finding the railing until he greets the first floor hardwood, trekking back through the entryway and into the vacant living space, spotting no signs of life left inside. There was a towel folded on the nearby table, presumably left for him to take as he walked closer, hand wrapping around the folded edge of the navy towel. His eyes rise to meet the back door, sliding it open to greet the fully-risen sun beaming down on his group of friends.

Hyunjin and Felix were settled on the edge of the pool, chatting over two open cans of beer while sitting closely. Minho smiles to himself, happy for Hyunjin for finally making progress with his own relationship.

Chris and Seungmin seemed pretty close too, already in the pool and bouncing a volleyball back and forth with quiet laughter. Then, there was Jisung, resting by himself on a tanning chair, sitting on the edge with his gaze turned towards the volleyball match, almost unaware of Minho’s eyes on him. Minho swallows nervously, stepping outside and closing the door, walking off towards Jisung as he sets down his towel on the other empty tanning chair, hesitating on sitting down.

“Hey,” Jisung mutters, attention now turning towards Minho. His voice is monotone and Minho almost misses his greeting, but in that statement does he suddenly find the confidence to sit down next to the younger.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” Minho states quietly, arms resting on his thighs as he slightly leans forward, eyes watching Chris and Seungmin.

“Work pissed me off.” Jisung turns his gaze away. “I needed a break.”

“Still having issues?”

“Yeah. Feels like it’s never gonna end.”

“Give it time.” Minho breathes, trying to comfort Jisung, nearly oblivious that his own statement was in regards to something other than his music.

“Did you find someone to take care of the cats?” Jisung asks, trying to keep the conversation alive. Minho is extremely thankful that the younger wanted to hold a conversation with him, the tension between them quietly settling into something softer.

“Yeah, my coworker is gonna stop by and feed them. He kinda owes me for making me work doubles for almost a week straight.”

“I don’t know how you lived through that.” Jisung scoffs quietly.

“I don’t know either.” Minho settles on, but would’ve rather settled for I survived because of you.

“You feeling okay, though? Hyunjin told us that you looked really tired.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just needed to take a nap.”

“I’m glad. I was kinda worried about you.” Jisung doesn’t look to see the smile that Minho’s lips curl to. “But, uh, there was something I had to ask you about.”

Minho’s smile suddenly drops, heart sinking into the pit of his stomach as he sits nervously, almost as rigid as a statue. Minho didn’t want to talk about their agreement here, nearly in front of all of their friends with the exposure of his feelings holding more weight in his chest than normal. But, if Jisung wanted to talk, Minho would listen whole heartedly.

“The room situation. Felix and Hyunjin are rooming together, obviously. Seungmin offered that I can room with him since Chris wanted to room alone, but I wanted to ask you. I. .  kind of wanted to room with you. But I know that what happened between us last time was awkward, and we don’t have to do anything while we’re here, I just think I’d be more comfortable–”

“That’s okay, Jisung. You can room with me if you want to. I don’t expect us to do something every time we see each other, okay? I don’t want you to feel like we have to do that.”

“Thanks.” Jisung smiles, but it fades quickly. “I’m really grateful that you understand.”

Minho struggles to decide on his next words, almost wanting to ask if Jisung wanted to go talk somewhere to clear the air even further, but Jisung speaks up before he can make up his mind.

“Wanna go in the pool with me?”

“Yeah, actually.” Minho nods. “That sounds nice right now.”

Jisung rises from his chair, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it down onto the chair he was sitting on. Minho follows suit, not noticing Jisung reaching over to grab his hand. Minho slightly flinches, but settles into the touch as it lingers, not realizing that Seungmin had noticed the contact between his ex and his best friend. Seungmin says nothing, and Minho holds Jisung’s hand tighter.

Jisung walks into the pool without fear, sinking to his waist as the cool water settles on his skin. Minho timidly follows, taking his time on the pool steps as he acclimates to the chlorinated water, traveling further and further until Jisung grabs his hand again and pulls him deeper. Minho audibly gasps, listening to Jisung laugh at him.

“Holy shit,” Minho winces, shoulders tense as the cold water shoots a chill up his spine.

“You’re such a sissy.” Jisung smiles, letting go of Minho’s hand as he sinks deeper, nearly submerging the skin all the way up to his shoulders without thought.

“Am not!” Minho protests, earning laughter from Jisung still.

“It’s okay if you are, hyung.” Jisung winces as Minho moves to jokingly swat water at him, but decides to be nice and keep his fingers at the surface of the water to barely flick anything towards the younger. Seungmin notices this, too.

Jisung moves a bit further into the pool, Minho follows slowly but surely, eventually sinking deeper into the water the more time that goes on. Hyunjin and Felix eventually hop into the pool too, teasingly making comments at Chris and Seungmin all the while, spurring on an embarrassing flush to Seungmin’s cheeks that he tried his best to hide. Minho and Jisung sink deeper, nearly isolating themselves in the corner of the pool while the other four mess around with one another.

Minho tries to keep a level head, ignoring the urge to touch Jisung at every waking moment his eyes gazed past him. Jisung was just so damn pretty and Minho couldn’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach everytime Jisung smiled at him.

Minho wants to break free of their arrangement, wanting to confess his feelings just so that they could be together. But this wasn’t the time. Seungmin was there, a few feet away from him and probably listening to their conversation, leaving little room for privacy.

Jisung, on the other hand, feels completely at ease. He had felt guilty about needing Minho to stop kissing him, given that kissing made their sexual encounters much more impactful, but Jisung needed to be selfish to spare himself the confusion of catching feelings. Jisung admittedly wanted Minho to free him of his hellish life, holding him and kissing him breathless so he could practically live worry free with him. He was about to lose the keys to his apartment, which would leave him homeless with loads of computer equipment and instruments that he had nowhere to house. The more time he spent ignoring his crashing feelings, the more time he spent staring at his computer monitor, mind blanking and unable to finish working on his music.

Jisung didn’t want to come to Jeju with his friends, trying to spend time working on Want So Bad without worry, but as usual, he found himself sleepless and angry, staring at his monitors with zero progress. So, he texted Chris back, claiming that he was gonna go afterall, needing some space away from his job to hopefully find the opportunity to clear his head. Jisung also noted that Minho didn’t text back, so he assumed that Minho wasn’t going either.

Imagine the surprise they both held when their gazes met just hours earlier.

“Jisung?” Minho asks, wading a little closer in the cool water.

“Hm?”

“Did you agree to come out here because I didn’t text back in the group?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was afraid that you were avoiding me, so I was a little shocked to see you when Chan and I arrived earlier. I saw your text in the group and to avoid making things awkward, I texted Chan separately to avoid any conflict or whatever.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was a little worried about seeing you again, but that wasn’t the reason I decided to come. Truthfully, Felix was a little more worried about spending the weekend with Hyunjin. Felix told me about their relationship and I’ve been keeping an eye on him because I’m worried about the decisions he’s making.”

“So Felix was the catalyst in this?”

“Well, that and me not being able to make any progress on a single track still.”

“Ah, right. You did mention that.”

“My apartment is really suffocating sometimes.” Jisung admits softly, watching Minho’s eyes lock onto his own worriedly. “That’s why I’ve been wanting to go to your place rather than mine. My computer monitors just stare at me when I’m there and it reminds me of all the work I keep avoiding.”

“You’re welcome at my place anytime.” Minho adds quietly. “Soonie misses you.”

“He might be the only one that misses me,” Jisung tries to laugh at himself, but Minho gently pushes water towards his chest in retaliation.

“I’ve definitely missed you.”

Jisung’s smile slightly drops, listening to the admittance of words roll from Minho’s tongue so haphazardly, eyes connecting even more now as they just blink at each other with no words ready to leave their mouths. Jisung wants to say something to match the fond words, but he finds himself stuck, rapidly blinking his gaze downwards to break the spell Minho seems to have on him. Minho looks away nervously too, hoping that his words didn’t hit the wrong nerve.

“Are you sure about sleeping together?” Minho asks timidly, eyes still avoiding. “Seungmin is here and I know you two are best friends and I’m his ex, so–”

“He’s not gonna care. I don’t have to tell him about what we’re doing, Minho. As far as he knows we’re just friends. He knows that we hang out and whatever but we don’t have to disclose that we do more than that.”

“If you’re okay with it, then that’s all that matters to me.” Minho nods, threading a hand through his nearly-dry hair, his wet palm dragging streaks of water through auburn locks. Jisung looks up at him, watching cautiously, breaking his gaze to look at Seungmin who seemed too infatuated with Chris to even care.

“I missed you too. . . by the way.” Jisung admits, watching Minho’s gaze return to his own. Jisung really wants to kiss him.

“Ah, so you do like my company, huh Jisungie?”

“What did I tell you about the pet names, huh?!” Jisung splashes water at him playfully, and Minho unsuccessfully tries to hide behind his hands before swinging his left hand down to splash right back.

“I don’t care, Jisungie. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Minho’ah?”

Minho’s jaw tightens with a curling smile, biting back the urge to say anything flirtatious. Jisung can deny his feelings all he wants, but Minho wouldn’t be able to in this context. “You’re such a brat sometimes, y’know that?”

“Not a brat,” Jisung muses. “Just like to tease you.”

“I know you do.” Minho smirks and Jisung preens.

Hours later, Minho and Jisung find themselves lounging on the couch. The couch itself was in the style of a sectional, the corner swinging out to the right towards the edge of the room with a longer seat at the end. The couch was beige in color and annoyingly comfortable. Minho was leaning on the very end of the couch by the windows, head leaned against a pillow with his eyes staring into his phone. Jisung had a pillow rested near Minho’s, laying in the opposite direction with his feet pointing towards the other side of the house. The television was on, playing some random anime they decided to put on just for the sake of not sitting in silence.

Hyunjin and Felix had disappeared upstairs after getting tipsy outside in the pool, upstairs doing god knows what. Seungmin had supposedly gone to bed an hour ago, leaving Chris, Jisung and Minho alone downstairs on the couch. But after watching anime for a half hour, Chris decided to disappear to one of the bathrooms to take a shower, which resulted in leaving the two males completely alone.

“Do you even know what’s going on?” Jisung asks, head turned towards the television.

“Not even in the slightest.” Minho hums, turning his phone off and resting it on his stomach. “Is it interesting at least?”

“Clearly not if you’re not paying attention.”

“Touche.”

“Are you tired?”

“No.” Minho sighs. “Are you?”

“Nope.”

“Do you wanna do something? Or do you just wanna sit here?”

“Are you trying to proposition me right now?” Jisung turns around, eyes curious, brow raised; Minho can’t bear to look at him.

“NO! No. I wasn’t trying–. . . unless you, I mean. . . unless you want me to be?” Minho stammers, slowly turning his gaze to face Jisung, watching the younger slowly start to smile before he breaks out into a laughing fit.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Jisung laughs.

“Don’t call me that,” Minho starts laughing also, barely thinking about the change their relationship had seen in the last couple of hours. From estranged friends with benefits, back to close friends (who sometimes have sex with one another) in the matter of an instant. Minho really liked this Jisung, wondering why he ever wanted to end things between them in the first place.

“I’m allowed to call my friend cute. Just shut up and accept it.” Jisung smiles teasingly, and Minho feels a familiar pit in his stomach grow. This was why, Minho thinks. Being just friends with Jisung was why he wanted it all to stop only hours ago.

“Whatever,” Minho rolls his eyes, turning his attention away towards the television again.

“Don’t be all pouty, hyung.” Jisung reaches his hand over, pointer finger extended as he presses the pad of his finger to press into Minho’s cheek. “You can’t be mad at me forever. Or I might just have to annoy you until you smile.”

“Nope. You’re rude.” Minho remains firm, playfully ignoring the younger by picking his phone back up and unlocking it, trying to engage himself back into the land of twitter.

“Aww, Minho!!” Jisung scoots closer, shoving his pillow away so he can rest on his knees near where his head once laid. “Someone’s playing hard to get.”

“No I’m not.” Minho shakes his head. “I’m not doing anything.”

Jisung presses his finger into Minho’s cheek again. “Don’t smile, hyung.”

Minho bites his cheek. “I know you want to.”

“Nope. No smiles here. Just numb emotions.” Minho keeps his focus, but Jisung is awfully persistent.

“Don’t make me come over there.” Jisung warns, leaning his face closer to the side of Minho’s head.

“Do what you want. I’m not gonna crack.” Minho remains defiant, scrolling on twitter subconsciously, barely reading any of the tweets that appear on his screen.

Jisung takes Minho’s words as a dare, swinging his legs off of the couch and towards the lounge-part of the sectional, plopping himself down onto Minho’s lower thighs, purposely avoiding his pelvis for obvious reasons.

“Jisung!” Minho whisper-yells, phone falling from his hand and onto the couch, bouncing off the cushion and to the floor with a smack.

“Shhh! Hyung–” Jisung smiles. “Don’t wake the whole house up.”

“Jisung, we can easily go to our room for this.” Minho eyes him worriedly, fighting the urge to place his hands on Jisung’s incredibly small waist.

“Who said I was trying to seduce you?” Jisung tilts his head and Minho’s face immediately flushes.

“No one! I’m not! I just– I don’t know what you are planning to do on my lap of all places.” Minho stammers worriedly, voice hushed and careful, but Jisung smiles anyway.

“Nevermind that, hyung. But do you see that?” Jisung points to Minho’s lips, eyes etched in concern.

“No? What?”

Jisung raises his hand and pinches Minho’s cheek, biting his bottom lip teasingly. “You’re covered in cuteness.”

Minho forgets about their standoff, smiling at the stupid comment cheesily, turning his gaze away before he hears Jisung break out into a laugh, expression deadpanning when he remembers why Jisung was on his lap in the first place.

“Son of a bitch.” Minho sighs, hands raising to rest on the sides of Jisung’s thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly. “I hate you.”

“I know you do.” Jisung rolls his eyes playfully.

“Aren’t you worried someone is gonna come downstairs and see us like this?” Minho asks, blinking up at the younger.

“No.” Jisung’s hands drift to his sides, carefully avoiding Minho’s as they remain on his thighs.

“You’re comfortable. . . about this?”

“It’s not like we’re dating, Minho. Felix knows that I’m a touchy friend and that I like hugs and stuff, so, I don’t know how surprised anyone would be. I think everyone knows how close we are.”

“But to what extent?”

“I. . . didn’t tell Seungmin about us. Felix knows.”

“So Seungmin is the only one that doesn’t know?” Minho asks, which spurs confusion in Jisung’s chest.

“So Chan and Hyunjin know?”

“Chan is basically like my brother. He knows everything about me. Hyunjin knows the bare minimum, don’t worry. But if he knows anything more than what I said, he probably heard it from Felix.”

“So I guess Seungmin is the only one who doesn’t know.” Jisung frowns, and Minho can tell that the younger feels some sort of guilt pooling in his stomach. 

“Hey,” Minho taps his thigh gently, watching Jisung’s eyes lower to find him. “It’s okay. We both know what we were getting into before we started this. Seungmin shouldn’t have a say in who we like or who we sleep with. I know you feel like you owe him the truth and everything, but don’t feel like you should be forced into doing so.”

“It just feels wrong. He is my best friend and he’s been through every hardship with me.”

“That’s how I felt when I lied to Chris about Seungmin and I’s relationship in the first place.” Minho’s brows furrow for a second, but he detenses, noticing Jisung’s hands suddenly reach for his own.

“What happened between the two of you, Minho?”

Minho didn’t want to tell Jisung for the simple fear of his idiotic past decisions ruining his future. He knows that he dug his own grave with his choices, but the idea of watching Jisung turn distrustful of his intentions and ending their relationship was completely terrifying.

“I didn’t love him the way he loved me.” It seemed like a simple answer, but Minho could tell that Jisung had even more questions after his statement. “We were together for two years and were living together, but I just couldn’t give him the love he deserved.”

“He told us that his ex was an asshole,” Jisung sighs, his fingers tracing over Minho’s skin lightly, almost hesitating on pulling away. Minho knows his relationship with Seungmin is important for Jisung to know, especially since they were friends, but Minho couldn’t convince himself to be completely honest. “But that doesn’t sound like an asshole thing to do.”

Jisung’s words catch Minho off guard, feeling his heart nearly seize in his chest. Jisung’s fingers slowly intertwine with Minho’s on both hands, which only confuses Minho even further. Jisung’s actions did not match his words hardly at all, unsure if the space Jisung asked for only applied to them kissing. All Minho knew was that he was confused, Jisung was in denial, and they sure as hell acted like a couple for two males who claimed to not be a couple. But, he couldn’t be fucked to fix any of it right now.

“Jisung–”

“No, just. . . I know what happened between you two is private. But from what you’ve told me, it doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong. If anything you did the right thing, breaking it off before things got out of hand.”

Minho can feel vomit surging in his throat. He’s lying to Jisung, the one person he promised himself to stop lying to for the sake of wanting something more with him. But he keeps lying, over and over again, unable to force the truth out of himself as he sits under Jisung and blinks up at him, nearly dumbfounded. “I know we’re just friends with benefits or whatever, right now Ji, but I. . . I really–”

Minho cuts himself off, but Jisung waits, fingers grasping onto Minho’s still. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Jisung visibly winces, gaze tilting down. Minho immediately feels the urge to apologize, fully acknowledging their agreement and Jisung’s new found boundaries, but the words slipped from his tongue so truthfully, maybe to spite him for swallowing other truthful confessions he longed to keep hidden. “So do it.”

Minho’s eyes widen, feeling Jisung’s hands squeeze his own. “What?”

“You want to kiss me. . . so why don’t you?”

Minho, if he wasn’t confused before, is confused to all hell now. Just two days ago, Jisung was begging for Minho to stop kissing him, and now he’s on his lap, holding his hands, telling Minho to just kiss him.

“Y-You told me that I needed to stop kissing you because you didn’t want to catch feelings.”

“I know I said that.” Jisung sighs. “But, right now I– uhm.”

Minho watches him needily, slowly willing himself upright, feeling Jisung shift closer in his lap now that they were sitting hip to hip. Minho studies his expression, eyes full and fond, waiting patiently as he moves his thumbs across Jisung’s skin on his hands. Minho is silently pleading with his gaze, hoping for an answer that wasn’t laced with regret.

“I want to kiss you, too.”

Chapter Text

Minho’s hands release from Jisung’s hold on them, moving slowly down to his waist and resting there, squeezing the flesh on contact as Jisung looks into him. Minho isn’t sure what to say, let alone what to do, mind hazy and confused after listening to the younger bleed a confession of wanting to kiss him too.

“Minho,” Jisung’s voice is soft, eyes warm, hands reaching to rest on the back of Minho’s neck, brushing past the edges of his hairline tenderly. “Please.”

“But I don’t want you to hate me tomorrow,” Minho says in a near mumble. Jisung shakes his head, hands timidly pressing into the back of Minho’s neck.

“I won’t. I promise you I won’t.” Minho leans closer, lips hovering just over Jisung’s, breath warm against his opening lips. Jisung is greedy, nearly unable to withstand the distance as he presses his lips into Minho’s, hands holding him closely, fingers stroking the elder’s skin carefully.

Minho parts from Jisung with a breath, almost ready to lean away before Jisung pulls him back in, slotting their lips together feverishly. Minho pulls Jisung’s waist closer, waists pressed together with little room to breathe.

“Please do not have sex on my couch.” Chris says tiredly, standing in the middle of the walkway, bare chested with his hair wet. Both males break apart, Jisung sliding off of Minho’s lap slowly with his cheeks flushed, thankful that it was just Chris that came into the living space to see their shared moment.

“We weren’t going to.” Minho breathes, chest slightly heaving from their heated kiss.

“Right. . .it’s late. You two should go upstairs.” Chris turns on his heel, heading into the kitchen and moving towards the fridge, grabbing a water pitcher from one of the shelves.

“We should.” Minho looks at Jisung then back at Chris, sighing when he moves to grab his phone off of the floor. Jisung doesn’t say anything and instead reaches to grab the pillow he tossed onto the floor, placing it back to its desired place on the sofa. “You coming with me?”

“Yeah.” Jisung hums, rising from the couch, waiting for Minho to stand also.

“Channie?” Minho asks softly, pressing a few buttons on the remote before the television shuts off, placing the device back down on the couch so it was easily found the next morning.

“What Minho?”

“What’s on the agenda tomorrow?”

“Uh, nothing really. Whatever we want.” Chris eyes him curiously. “Why?”

“Just wondering is all. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Chris sets down a glass he had gotten between Minho and Jisung’s shuffling on the couch, finally pouring himself a glass of water that he begins to chug sleepily. Chris hums just so Minho knows that he was listening, setting the glass down once the water was gone.

Minho starts to walk towards the hall, but suddenly feels Jisung’s hand wrap in his own, fingers automatically moving to entangle their hands. Minho doesn’t question it and instead allows himself to enjoy it, leading the younger through the hall and towards the stairs without a single word.

Minho walks up the flight of stairs quietly, turning to the left and to the last door on the right, strolling into the room he chose earlier that morning. Jisung had thrown his bag into the room earlier after they had left the pool, claiming stake to the left side of the dresser as he sloppily placed his shirts and pants inside.

Minho feels Jisung’s hand drop from his as he walks to the dresser, listening to the door shut behind them. Minho reaches for his bag that was still placed on top of the wooden dresser, zipping a pocket open as he pulls his phone charger free and heads to the left side of the bed, searching the wall nearby to plug in his cable.

Jisung tugs off his shirt, throwing it onto the dresser as well, watching as the fabric loosely hangs on the side of Minho’s bag. He decides against moving it, finding it oddly funny that it landed there of all places.

Minho slings himself into bed carefully, sinking beneath the covers with a content hum, letting the warmth of the comforter envelop him almost immediately. Jisung settles in too, laying on his back while reaching for his phone to start his endless scroll of social media until he can't keep his eyes open anymore.

“Are you gonna be able to sleep?” Minho asks quietly, lying on his side, facing towards Jisung.

“Maybe.” Jisung sighs, looking away from his phone for a second. “Don’t know.”

“D’you want me to stay up with you?”

“You don’t have to, hyung.” Jisung smiles at him sweetly, tilting his phone down slightly. “I’m used to this. I’ll try to sleep when I’m tired.”

“If you’re sure–” Minho yawns, settling further into his pillow. “I’m taking you somewhere tomorrow, though. You’re g’na like it.”

Jisung bites his tongue, feeling his heart flutter in his chest. He isn’t sure why he’s allowing Minho to treat him like this and talk to him like this, almost implying that they were going on a date of some sort, but Jisung felt the need to indulge before he closed himself off again. “Mkay.”

Jisung turns back to his phone, listening to Minho’s breaths deepen the more time passes. He’s not tired, not really at all, scrolling helplessly through several social medias before he finds himself giving up.

His phone was halfway to being dead, now suddenly remembering that he forgot to get his charger out and would have to leave the comfort of the bed to get it. So he does that, rolling out carefully to search through his hazardous bag that he tossed on the floor after pulling all of his clothes out, searching through pocket after pocket before pulling his red charger cable free from the confines of his bag.

“What’re you doin’?” Minho hums, fingers wiping at his eyes tiredly. Minho had only been asleep for around an hour at this point, suddenly woken by Jisung’s shuffling within the room.

“Need to charge my phone. Don’t worry about it, just go to sleep.” Jisung walks back over, bending down to plug his phone in.

“Come back to bed.” Minho demands groggily, hand reaching outwards to smack the bed.

“God, are you always so annoying when you’re tired?” Jisung laughs, plugging in his phone and finally sitting back down on the mattress.

“No.” Minho huffs, arm being pulled back to his side.

“You’re awfully needy.” Jisung crawls back under the covers, turning to lay on his side to face a sleepy Minho, which he finds incredibly hard to resist.

“I jus’ want you.” The words hit like a ton of bricks. Jisung isn’t sure if Minho is too dazed to comprehend what fucking confession just rolled through his lips, but he finds himself unable to speak. Minho’s eyes are shut, breaths deepening by the second, unaware of the dumbfounded look crossing Jisung’s expression.

Jisung wants to believe he didn’t mean it, and even though Minho was groggy and incoherent, somehow Jisung sensed the truth lingering in his words.

Jisung moves closer, biting his lip slightly as he breathes through a wave of anxiety, wrapping his arms around Minho as he pulls the elder into his chest, feeling little resistance as Minho’s arm snakes around his waist and holds onto him too.

It was incredibly intimate to rest like this, listening to Minho’s breaths lengthen and deepen, wondering why he didn’t hate this. Jisung actually liked this. He liked holding Minho and feeling his warm exhales on his bare chest. But he also liked feeling Minho’s arms around him so securely, knowing that Minho wanted him just as close as Jisung wanted him.

Jisung doesn’t know when he falls asleep, escaping reality to settle into a steady bliss that he doesn’t want to thank Minho for bringing him into. He credited his sleepiness to a long day spent traveling and swimming, refusing to admit that Minho’s hold on him had any part in relaxing his mind. Though, it was worth noting that he only ever got restful sleep in Minho’s arms.

Minho wakes with his face buried in Jisung’s chest.

He’s surprised to say the least, eyes blinking awake as he listens to Jisung’s breaths just above his head and out of his line of sight. He doesn’t want to move, almost as if there was glue binding them together, finding comfort in knowing that Jisung moved to hold him. He doesn’t remember reaching to hold the younger either, which made the situation even more confusing. Yet, he doesn’t bother to move. He hums quietly, nuzzling a little closer to Jisung if he could manage it, eyes lulling shut as he decides to ask for more sleep.

“Minho?” Jisung asks quietly, body moving away as he tries to wake up.

“G’morning, Jisungie.” Minho sighs, arms still holding onto Jisung the best that he could.

“Time’s it?” Jisung takes a deep breath, arm stretching out towards the ceiling as he moves to stretch his legs too.

“I dunno. Early, I think.” Minho begrudgingly turns over, rolling to grab his phone that lay resting on the side table nearby. Minho’s finger taps the screen twice, struggling to focus on the dimly lit screen as the time appears with his dark lockscreen. “It’s barely nine.”

“God, it felt like it was later than that. I slept like a rock.”

“That’s a first, isn’t it?”

“Mostly.” Jisung chuckles lightly. “You mentioned something in your sleep that I gotta ask you about.”

“Oh god,” Minho groans, flopping back into the bed with his face falling into the pillow.

“You said that you were taking me somewhere today. Is that true?”

“Yeah.” Minho breathes the second he raises from the pillow, tired gaze moving towards Jisung’s. “Last time I was here with Chan, we went together, and I kinda think you’d enjoy it.”

“Where are we going?” Jisung asks, and Minho smiles with a shrug.

“I guess you’ll find out when we get there.”

“Hyung–”

“Nope.” Minho gets out of bed, rounding the foot of the mattress while he searches through the drawers on his side of the dresser.

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.” Minho pulls a shirt and shorts out of the dresser, a hand raking through his messy bed-head.

“I hate you.” Jisung smiles, completely fond.

“I’m sure you do. Get outta bed. Let’s leave after we eat.”

Minho leaves without another word, leaving the door ajar as he treks towards the bathroom to start his morning routine.

Jisung stares out of the open window ahead of him, watching the ocean crash into the beach nearby. Trees sway in the wind as the sun rises further into the sky, lingering hints of reds and pinks settled on the horizon line. Jisung sighs contently, blinking down to look at his hands that once held Minho close to his chest.

He still wants to hate it. But something about how simple everything felt made him want to try to like it. Minho made him happy, and that’s all he chooses to focus on.

Jisung soon leaves his bed, grabbing a new pair of clothes before heading into the bathroom downstairs before anyone else could claim it for god knows how long. He showers and fixes his hair momentarily, changing into his new clothes before heading back into his shared room, searching through his bag again for his cologne and other parts to his routine.

By the time either male finishes, it’s nearly ten, leaving Minho sitting in the kitchen with some random breakfast sandwich Chris had ordered for everyone. Jisung strolls through the hall while fixing the black baseball cap on his head, brushing locks of his hair to the side as he gazes through the familiar home until his eyes land on Minho. Minho’s eyes catch his almost immediately, turning in his seat to reach for a packaged sandwich that he carefully holds out in front of him. Jisung raises his brow, taking the sandwich in question as he approaches.

“What is it?”

“Egg and bacon, I think. There’s ones that have cheese on them too if you’d prefer that.”

“This is fine.” Jisung mutters quietly, turning on his heel as he observes the surrounding area. “Is anyone else alive or is it just us?”

“Felix and Hyunjin are outside.” Minho points to the door behind him. “Seungmin crawled out of his room to steal breakfast before leaving. Haven’t seen Channie since he ordered everyone food.”

“Does Felix seem okay?”

“I mean,” Minho shrugs. “I think so. He’s your friend, you might know better than me. He was smiling and stuff when I saw him, so I assume he’s alright.”

“If they’re out there together then they must be okay, too.”

“Hyunjin feels bad.” Minho says casually, watching Jisung’s attention drag towards the door behind him. “He wants to fix everything between them.”

“I know he does.” Jisung opens his sandwich to free it from its wrapper, hesitating on taking a bite. “I just don’t trust him right now. Not after everything he put Felix through.”

“I get it.” Minho takes the last bite of his sandwich, crumbling his paper in his hand. Jisung takes another bite, eyes still trained on the back door.

“I just don’t want Felix to get his heart broken.” Jisung says after he swallows, going back in for another bite.

“He doesn’t want to break it, either.” Minho watches Jisung’s gaze flick towards him, but Minho could tell that he wasn’t convinced. Minho knew Hyunjin had a very shitty personality at times and made questionable decisions, but Hyunjin was one of his best friends, and he’d do anything for him. Hyunjin was just notorious for being misunderstood.

Jisung takes another bite and swallows. “I wouldn’t do that to someone, ever. I can’t imagine doing that in the first place.”

“He really feels bad.” Minho adds. “I promise you he does.” Minho isn’t so sure who he’s talking about anymore. Between Hyunjin or himself; he doesn’t know.

Jisung takes his last bite, hand being held out while waving his fingers, wordlessly asking for Minho’s garbage. Minho hands it over and Jisung chews, swallowing not too long after.

“Okay,” is all Jisung settles on.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Hyunjin says as he whips the back door open, a loose black tank top hanging from his torso with sunglasses hugging the bridge of his nose.

“Hi Hyunjin,” Jisung turns and smiles, acting as if he was never questioning Hyunjin’s motives in the first place. “Where’s Lix?”

“He’s taking photos outside. It’s really nice out right now.”

“I’m gonna go say hi to him really quick.” Jisung passes by Minho and Hyunjin quickly, walking out of the open door before closing it behind him. Minho looks at Hyunjin who casually strolls into the kitchen, picking out two drinks from the cold refrigerator.

“Things okay between you two?”

“Things are good.” Hyunjin sighs, raising a brow. “How about you two?”

“Better.” Minho turns to look out of the back door, spotting Jisung and Felix sitting on the edge of the steps that lead down to the beach.

“What are you guys doing today? Anything exciting?”

“I’m gonna take him to the aquarium. Chan took me on my first visit out here, and I just wanna show him how amazing it is over there.”

“I forgot about the aquarium being here,” Hyunjin smiles. “That’s a good idea. Felix and I are going surfing, I think. He mentioned wanting to go down to the beach to spend time together.”

“That’ll be nice. Do you plan on talking to him?”

“We’ll see if I have the courage. I don’t wanna ruin a good day with my feelings, y’know?”

“I get it.” Minho looks away from the door, finding Hyunjin’s gaze. “I think Chan mentioned wanting to drink or some shit tonight. Did he say that to you?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin laughs. “He’s gonna go buy a lot of soju and beer. We’re gonna have a fire tonight to hang out.”

“I look forward to it. I could use a sip of soju that I didn’t steal from behind the bar.”

“God, you and Chan really are like brothers because he said the same damn thing.”

“That’s because we take shots together at work!” Minho laughs, watching Hyunjin nod with quiet chuckles.

“You are ridiculous, but I get it. I would too.” Hyunjin makes his way towards the back door, one arm holding the cold drinks to his body. “Enjoy the aquarium. Take a lot of pictures.”

“I’ll try to.”

Hyunjin wanders back outside, handing a drink off to Felix right as Jisung rises from his seat to come back inside. Minho waits, eyes locked onto the counter as the door opens behind him again, listening to Jisung pad indoors.

“He’s alright.” Jisung mutters. “They’re going surfing or something today.”

“That’s what Hyunjin just told me.” Minho nods, standing from his chair. “Are you ready to go now?”

“Is wherever we’re going open right now?” Jisung asks curiously, hoping that Minho would accidentally expose his surprise.

“Yeah, I checked online a couple of minutes ago. By the time we get there, they’ll be open.”

“How are we getting there?”

“I asked Chan if we could borrow the car. I’ll drive, don’t worry.”

“Lead the way, then.” Jisung sheepishly smiles, standing out of the way as he follows Minho towards the front door and outside, looking as he spots the unfamiliar car they must’ve rented from the airport.

The engine hums to life as Minho starts the car, buckling his seatbelt and setting his GPS to their destination, still leaving Jisung clueless as to where they were actually going. Jisung didn’t mind, he actually liked the thrill of being surprised, but the fact that Minho was the one behind said surprise only made him that much more excited.

The drive takes forty minutes of singing along to songs they both enjoyed and laughing at one another, admiring the beautiful landscape of passing ocean views, all while taking in the sights of Jeju Island. Jisung loves it here. He hasn’t visited Jeju in a long time, finding himself wanting to vacation here as much as he possibly could. The ocean was soothing, not to mention the salty sea air was nearly intoxicating. He was admittedly happy to be free of the confines of the friend group, finally able to relax and enjoy time with Minho alone. His feelings were hard to ignore at this point, and he wasn’t sure how they would end up by the beginning of next week. They were due to be home by Sunday and it was only Friday, leaving room to grow together or grow apart. Something deeply rooted inside of Jisung hopes that they’ll grow together instead of apart.

“Here we are,” Minho muses, biting his lip in anticipation to Jisung’s reaction.

“Where are we–?” Jisung leans forward, looking out of the windshield as he waits for their destination to appear before them. “Oh my god, Minho.”

“Are you surprised?” Minho smiles, listening to a soft exhale roll through Jisung’s lips.

“Aqua Planet Jeju? You brought me to the aquarium?” Minho glances at Jisung’s reaction out of pure worry, but preens at the excitement covering the younger’s expression.

“Chan brought me here a long time ago. It’s truly amazing in there, Ji. You deserve to be able to clear your head and look at something mesmerizing. This place is everything to me because it’s one of the first good memories I have here in Jeju, and I wanted to share it with you.”

“You wanted to share it with me?”

“Well, I didn’t want to go with Chan again.” Minho scoffs, listening to Jisung laugh with him.

“No I mean, you could’ve taken anyone, or everyone. But you took just me.”

“You mean a lot to me.” Minho says the moment he parks the car, turning off the engine. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

Jisung smiles, cheeks flushing the longer he looks at Minho, keeping his longing words stuck in the back of his throat. Minho smiles back at him, removing his keys from the ignition before getting out of his car, listening to Jisung following suit behind him.

Both males walk towards the entrance of the aquarium, eyes scanning over the tiled blue building, scanning over the white-lettered sign and swinging open the large glass door, immediately greeted by waves of blue and low-beam lighting. Jisung mutters words quietly, all expressed in shock as he looks around, unaware of how fondly Minho was looking at him.

Jisung looked so pretty under the lights, greeted by hues of blues and warm light tones, features expressive and awed as he looked around the walls of tanks beaming with fluorescent lighting. Minho can’t help but stand and watch him for a moment, allowing the once stressful ball of feelings to melt into something that makes his chest warm.

“Let’s get our admission tickets–” Minho says softly, tearing his eyes away to look for the booth. “Come on.”

Jisung follows devotedly, unable to pull his eyes away from the scenery around him as he follows, almost speechless at the sights ahead of him. Minho pulls out his wallet and buys tickets for the both of them, thanking the cashier before leading Jisung towards the official entrance of the aquarium, being completely engulfed in near-darkness as they trek into the first exhibit room.

Jisung mutters more quiet awe-stricken words, walking towards a large viewing window, eyes following the swimming fish as they pass by the glass. Televisions hang at an angle overhead, flashing pictures of the species within the tank for education, while the white wall is accented with waves of blue. Minho stands behind Jisung, watching the fish over his shoulder as he listens to the younger mumble words to the fish as they pass.

“I like the yellow one,” Jisung points to a smaller lemon-colored fish, long in length, but overall relatively tiny.

“Says it’s a wrasse.” Minho says softly, watching Jisung’s eyes shift to the television hanging above them.

“He’s cute.” Jisung hums, looking back down at the tank. “What’s next?”

“More reef fish, I think.” Minho follows Jisung towards the next tank, standing side by side as they mindlessly watch the fish swim in front of their eyes. Jisung mouths a quiet wow as they stand there, engulfed by the overwhelming flood of blue from the backdrop, eyes casting over the large decorated coral reef settled in the middle. Tangs and more wrasse swim delicately around the reef, disappearing behind coral and dipping between rocks as they rush to hide and reappear seconds later.

“It’s pretty.” Jisung mutters, approaching the glass to stand closer, eyes following a blue tang around as it swims past. “I found Dory.”

“You’re so funny.” Minho rolls his eyes, tapping the younger on the shoulder as he begins to walk away. “Come on, there’s bigger aquariums up here.”

Jisung follows Minho like a devoted puppy for the next half hour, talking quietly between them as they view every single tank along the way. Pufferfish, sting rays, clownfish and more reef fish all greet the males at the view of each glass panel, and Jisung gets excited every time he spots a new fish he hadn’t seen yet.

They continue walking through, smiling at one another and taking loads of pictures before walking through a grand entryway where they are met with a very large, floor to ceiling viewing panel of an enormous tank. Minho had forgotten how large the tank actually was, feeling incredibly small next to it. Jisung was nearly stuck in his place, awestruck and completely mind blown at how big the viewing panel truly was. They felt like ants looking up at a two-story home, completely blinded by the sheer size of it.

“You weren’t kidding.” Jisung mutters. “It really is amazing in here.”

“I know.” Minho watches a school of silver fish pass by, followed by a slowly swimming sand tiger shark not too far after. Minho approaches the tank wall, Jisung taking his time as he too approaches, closing the distance after taking in the grandeur of the tank itself.

Large bands of kelp rise through the water as fish and stingrays swim around, circling sharks swimming near the top water column, menacing as always, but fascinating nonetheless.

“Minho?” Jisung asks quietly the second he finds himself standing by his side.

“Hm?”

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Thank you for coming with me.” Minho replies timidly, barely glancing over at Jisung as he steps a half-inch closer, hand barely brushing against Jisung’s. They continue to stare at the tank, watching each shark that passes wordlessly, gawking at the size of each stingray that swims in front of them.

Jisung’s hand reaches over, palm greeting Minho’s as he laces their fingers together without saying a word. Minho is surprised by the gesture, but he doesn’t move and doesn’t react, gripping his hand a little tighter as their hold becomes comfortable.

They stand there like that for several minutes, watching the fish ahead of them just exist around one another peacefully. Somehow, Minho thinks of himself as one of the sharks, swimming alone and watching everything around him, coming off as bruting and mean to anything that passes. Jisung was like the gold wrasse they saw earlier, full of life and vibrant, something Minho couldn’t have pictured wanting in his life. But here he was, holding Jisung’s hand, afraid to let go, wanting to turn him around and kiss him as if his life depended on it. He really, truly didn’t want to be with anyone else.

He accepts that Jisung will never be his, but he also settles in knowing that he will always be Jisung’s.

Several hours later, Jisung is sitting next to Minho outside, laughing at some random shit Hyunjin had said around the fire Chris was trying to start. The sun was setting, the temperature cooling as the evening came to pass. The sky is painted in dark blues and purples, hinted with reds the further the sun sinks towards the horizon. Jisung was finding it hard to stop laughing, almost two bottles of soju in as they all surrounded a helpless Chris. Hyunjin was three bottles in, eyes red and smiling widely, giggles forming in the back of his throat.

Minho was incredibly tipsy now, making a bet with Hyunjin earlier in the day that spurred into Minho taking four shots of a strong soju, losing the bet entirely as Hyunjin remained sober (for the time being). Now Minho is sipping on a beer, giggling at almost everything anyone says, ears red and eyes dazed.

Seungmin was still inside, waiting on the food he had ordered for everyone with Felix, who was only one bottle in.

“You guys aren’t helping!” Chris laughs, using a metal pick to move burning logs around to entice the fire to breathe.

“I can’t help that Hyunjin is so funny!” Jisung laughs, watching Chris look back towards him unamusingly.

“Minho thinks I’m funny.” Hyunjin smiles. “Look at him! He’s in tears!”

Everyone turns to look at Minho, whose head was tilted back with tears leaking from his eyes. His chest was heaving as he laughed, almost unable to stop himself from crying and laughing at Hyunjin.

“Minho! Breathe!” Jisung calls, hand reaching over to smack Minho’s thigh. “Breathe!”

“Shut up!” Minho laughs, leaning forward to hide his face in his hands.

“Hyunjin isn’t even that funny!” Chris laughs, but Hyunjin reaches to smack him on the shoulder.

“Yes I am!” He enunciates every word as he yells, reaching behind him for his can of beer that he tosses back without thought. “I am so funny.”

“Sure you are.” Chris settles, stirring the logs around until he finally sees the flames engulf the logs properly, rising higher with every passing second.

“You did it!” Jisung cheers, smiling with his hands raised into the air.

“It only took him twenty minutes.” Hyunjin scoffs, earning a near-death glare from Chris.

“Food’s here.” Seungmin calls outside after poking his head out of the door.

Jisung stands up slowly, feeling the alcohol hit him like a ton of bricks. Minho follows suit, wobbly and incoherent, but Jisung reaches his arms out preventatively, ready to catch the elder if he were to topple over.

“I’m hungry,” Minho hums, carefully walking around the fire and towards the door with Jisung’s hand hovering behind his back. Chris and Hyunjin follow too, laughing at the slurred nonsense that dribbles from Minho’s tongue.

“What did you get?” Jisung asks once inside, eyes gazing over the food selections that Felix was in the middle of setting out.

“Pizza, kimchi, chicken–” Seungmin shrugs. “I just ordered a bit of everything since you’re all drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” Hyunjin pouts, and Felix instantly stares daggers into him. “Maybe I am a little drunk.”

“Eat!” Seungmin encourages, waving his hands at everyone to surround the kitchen counter. “Eat before you guys get even more drunk.”

“I’m already there.” Minho hums, smiling and giggling like a drunken idiot.

“I think we need to cut you off,” Chris looks at Minho, and Minho instantly sighs.

“Buzz kill.” Minho frowns.

Jisung grabs a slice of pizza and retreats back outside. Minho’s eyes watch him curiously, grabbing his own slice of pizza before chasing after him.

“Why’d you leave me?” Minho pouts, and Jisung instantly laughs at him.

“God, you are such a drunk baby.” Jisung sits down in his chair, taking a bite of his pizza hungrily.

“Jisungie,” Minho hums. “Why’d you leave?”

“I didn’t leave, Minho. I just wanted to come outside.”

“I just wanna be where you are.” Minho sits down in his own seat, slouching as he eats his own slice.

“Clingy, huh? I wouldn’t take you for the clingy type.”

“I’m affectionate when I drink,” Minho corrects, lazily lying his head back on the chair. “D’you not remember the first time we had sex?”

“Minho!” Jisung shoots forwards, eyes rushing to look at the back door. “Be careful about what you say! The door is open!”

“What? You don’t want me to tell the world that we fucked? Since when are you so shy?” Minho muses, smiling cheesily as he takes another bite.

“I’ve always been shy, idiot.” Jisung drawls, slowly leaning back into his chair. “And yes, I remember the first time. But you weren’t that drunk.”

“I was tipsy!” Minho laughs. “It was a trick question.”

“You are making no sense.” Jisung watches him with a dopey smile, holding the remaining half of his pizza slice. “Do I need to put you to bed? You’re acting like a moron.”

“Ooh, Jisungie wants to put me to bed.” Minho bites his bottom lip before taking another bite, chuckling at himself as he watches Jisung’s expression deadpan. “I like you so much.”

Jisung nods, taking another bite. “I know you do. Eat your pizza and be quiet.”

“Oh and now you’re demanding me to do things?” Minho geeks in surprise. “Are you a switch suddenly? D’you wanna top?”

“Oh my god.” Jisung’s face immediately flushes.

“What are you two talking about?” Hyunjin comes outside, another beer in hand.

“Minho needs to go to bed.” Jisung chuckles, watching the elder lean into his chair and hum contently as he devours his pizza.

“Aw, but it’s still early!”

“He’s shit faced right now.” Jisung sighs. “He’s not gonna be able to stand up if he keeps drinking.”

“Our bet really did him in, then.” Hyunjin shrugs. “He’s a light weight.”

“Shut up, Jinnie.” Minho points at him. “I am not.”

“You are.” Hyunjin laughs, taking a sip of his beer. “It’s okay. Felix is too.”

“No he isn’t,” Minho shakes his head, shoving the last piece of his pizza into his mouth. “You’re the light weight. You’re the one with feelings!”

“Minho.” Jisung warns, smacking the elder’s thigh.

“What?” Minho sits upright, eyeing both Jisung and Hyunjin drunkenly. “He has feelings for someone that probably doesn't like him back. Wait. . . I do too. I guess I'm a fucking light weight too. Aw, Jinnie! We're light weights together! ”

“Minho, you should really stop talking.” Hyunjin breathes quietly, looking at Jisung to do something.

“Okay, hyung, let’s go inside.” Jisung gets up from his seat, holding his hands out for Minho.

“Are you gonna put me to bed, Jisungie?” Minho teases, but no one laughs.

“Yes, Minho. Please get up.”

“Mkay.” Minho’s hands reach and grab onto Jisung’s, hoisting himself up from his chair and into Jisung’s arms, where he engulfs the younger into a drunken bear hug. Jisung pats his back and pushes him off, trying to look him in the eyes as Minho wobbles in front of him.

“Let’s go. You can hug me later.”

Hyunjin watches them stumble into the house, downing the rest of his beer and crushing the can afterwards. Hyunjin knew Minho didn’t mean what he said, but couldn’t help the sting that he felt when Minho let the words stumble from his soju-soaked lips.

“Here,” Jisung steps to the side once they reach their room, opening the door and letting Minho crash into the bed. “Do you want to change your clothes?”

“No.” Minho sighs, blinking up at Jisung curiously. “I just want you to c’mere.”

“Hyung.” Jisung closes the door behind him, moving towards the bed as he looks down at the drunken elder.

“What?”

“You’re wasted. You’re not in your right mind.”

“You drank too!”

“I’m barely tipsy. You drank too much.”

“I didn’t drink enough.” Minho corrects.

“Can you get into bed properly? You need to sleep.” Minho rolls his eyes playfully, swinging his legs onto the bed with his hand reaching out to grab Jisung’s. Jisung looks down at Minho’s hold, realizing exactly where this was going.

“Get in bed with me.”

“We are not having sex right now, Minho.” Jisung watches Minho's pupils dilate, growing hungry as the seconds tick past. He knew what Minho was about to say without even having to hear it, staring back at a familiar gaze he's seen several times before.

“But I want you–” Minho pulls him closer slightly, looking up at him pleadingly as he leans upright, one elbow keeping him steady. “Want you so bad.”

Jisung knew he’d regret this, but he never really could deny Minho to begin with. So, he steps onto the mattress, one leg swinging over Minho’s waist as he straddles him, eyes blinking down at him. Minho was lustful and Jisung could easily tell without even having to ask.

“No kissing.” Jisung breathes and Minho nods.

“That’s okay. Just want you.”

“Tell me what you want then.” Jisung watches Minho’s hands move to his waistband, tugging at the fabric holding his small waist.

Minho tugs him closer, leaning forwards as he sits upright fully, nose barely touching Jisung’s. “I want you to ride me.”

Chapter Text

Jisung can feel Minho’s hot breath against his skin, sucking kisses with grazing teeth as they leave bruises on his lower neck. He’s carefully grinding on Minho, hands struggling to remain complacent as they move from his thighs to the back of Minho’s neck, trying his best to stay upright as the elder moves with him.

It’s achingly slow, tender; everything Minho wanted as he set the pace, holding Jisung by his waist shamelessly. Minho’s teeth grab at Jisung’s skin feverishly, licking long stripes down his throat and over his collarbones, pressing kisses to his chest and ears, grinding upwards and into him, listening to the bundle of noises that escape the back of Jisung’s throat.

“Does it feel good, Jisungie?” Minho hisses, kissing Jisung’s jaw chastely.

“Y-Yes, hyung.” Jisung’s head tilts back, leaving Minho more access to paint his throat in purple bruises.

“Tell me–” Minho groans against Jisung’s skin. “Tell me how good it feels.”

Jisung is tilting with the Earth on its axis, pooling with lust and pleasure all at once. He bites his tongue, forehead beading with sweat as he tries to quiet the noises building in his chest. If Minho was still wasted, Jisung sure as hell couldn’t tell.

“Use your words, Jisungie.”

“Oh my god–” Jisung breaks, tilting his head back down, forehead greeting Minho’s. “It’s s’good, Minho-hyung. I–. . . fuck. I like you so fucking much.”

Minho was too drunk to care about the lingering confession sitting at the end of Jisung’s words, swallowed whole by the urge to pin Jisung to the bed and paint him in bruises only he could see.

“I’m getting tired, hyung.” Jisung breathes, chest heaving and heart racing.

“You want me to take over?” Minho asks almost endearingly, words laced with lust. Jisung groans again, thighs burning from the consistent ache of grinding down onto Minho.

“Please–” Jisung feverishly nods. “Just want you. Just want you s’bad.”

Minho readily switches them, laying Jisung on his back quickly, drunkenly moving to find Jisung’s hands. Jisung complies, holding his hands above his head just for Minho to pin them there.

Jisung was drunk on wanting Minho, pleading for him to start moving with babbling words.

“Shh, Jisungie,” Minho coos with a drunken laugh. “They’re gonna hear you.”

Jisung bites his bottom lip as he stares up at Minho, trying to remain strong on his boundary of not kissing him, even though he really fucking wanted to. Minho gives him what he wants and starts moving again, slow but snapping, hips touching with every single forward movement.

Jisung’s back is arching, groans and whines leaving his lips more frequently, hands struggling beneath Minho’s grasp as he finds it difficult to ground himself.

“Jisung–” Minho leans his head down, kissing his jaw. “Please be quiet.”

“I can’t,” Jisung whines, wrists moving beneath Minho’s grasp. “Just– ugh, fuck. Just fucking kiss me.”

“Are you sure?” Minho slows his hips, words slightly slurred, watching Jisung blink up at him feverishly.

“Yes, just please, please.” Jisung writhes, legs attempting to wrap around Minho’s waist.

Minho leans down and connects their lips, listening to Jisung hum against him.

Minho’s hips move languidly again, pressing longing kisses to his lips to keep the younger quiet. The more that Minho moves, the harder it becomes for them to remain quiet. Barely three minutes pass before Jisung is arching his back again, lips separating from Minho’s as his breathing picks up. Minho’s lips hover over Jisung’s, breathing into him, free hand reaching to press Jisung’s hips down into the mattress. Minho kisses him again, sloppily, breaths and hips stuttering as they simultaneously reach a peak, lips parting for barely a second to draw in more breaths.

Minho’s hand releases Jisung’s wrists, moving down to the sheets by the side of Jisung’s head, holding himself steady as he stops moving and parts away from Jisung’s lips, breathing heavily and tiredly. Jisung blinks up at him, face flushing at the memory of words so carelessly leaving his tongue, hoping that Minho didn’t hear it.

“Better?” Minho asks, gently opening Jisung’s legs wider as he carefully pulls out of him.

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles at him, hand reaching up to brush a few hairs out of Minho’s face. “I’m sorry that I’m confusing sometimes.”

“Nothing is more confusing than me, Jisung.” Minho kisses him and leans away, stepping off of the bed to grab his shorts.

“What do you mean?” Jisung leans upwards on his elbows, now remembering that Minho was likely still tipsy, so anything that was about to come out of his mouth could be drunken truth or complete lies.

“I fuckin’ cheated on someone.” Minho laughs casually, pulling his shorts up his legs. “He fuckin’ hates me now and I deserve it.”

“Minho, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m an asshole.” He muses, bending down to grab his shirt. “I gotta clean up. I’ll be back.”

“No, wait, hold on–” Jisung tried to stop Minho from leaving, but he swung the door open and trudged out into the hall. Jisung’s brows furrow, blinking at the words that tumbled from his lips. No one would lie about admitting to cheating, moreso the other way around, which made Jisung’s mind crazy with doubt. Minho had said he just ‘fell out of love’ and Jisung believed him. Maybe it was partially true, but the admittance to cheating made him feel sick.

“Here,” Minho mumbles as he walks back inside, closing the door behind him. He held a warm, wet rag in his hand, walking towards the bed as he handed it over and Jisung took it wordlessly. “Tired?”

“Yeah, a bit.” Jisung lies. He isn’t tired, not at all.

“I’m really drunk.” Minho sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just come lay down.” Jisung pats the bed next to him, sitting upright, using the rag he was given to clean himself off before reaching for his own discarded pants.

“Can you tell him I’m sorry too?” Minho mumbles as he moves to lay down on his side of the bed, barely making the effort to push his legs under the covers.

“Tell who?”

“Seungmin–” Minho sighs. “I was an asshole.”

Jisung’s heart drops. “He doesn’t think you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah he does.” Minho’s eyes lull shut. “How could he ever like me after what I did?”

“Minho, go to sleep, please. You’re not making much sense.”

“Okay, Jisungie.” Minho hums.

Jisung pulls his pants up to his waist, sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes staring off into space. Minho drunkenly admitted to the truth, something that he was maybe trying to hide because of how awful he used to be. Jisung didn’t appreciate being lied to, though it was really none of his business, but now knowing what he knows, Jisung finds himself upset. Seungmin had never explained why he broke up with his ex, he just always claimed that he was an asshole. Now, here Minho was claiming that he was the asshole and cheated, exposing a part of his life that Jisung isn’t sure if Minho ever intended on sharing.

Jisung knew what he needed to do now, and as he looked behind him at Minho, he could feel his heart shattering. He really liked him, but no relationship was worth the cost of his friendship with Seungmin. He’s determined to have a conversation with his best friend to find out the truth, hopeful that Minho was lying out of his ass so the resentment lingering in his stomach could die out with his nerves.

So he indulges, one more time, almost as if it’d be the last, laying down in the bed next to Minho and tugging the elder’s arms around him, listening to the hum that rumbles in Minho’s chest as he rests comfortably against him. But Jisung doesn’t sleep. He stays awake, harassed by his mind every second he lies there, wanting to know just a fraction of the truth.

Minho wakes early, eyes opening to see the sun just rising above the horizon line. He groggily moves around, shifting in bed until he sits upright, blinking through the exhaustion that plagues him. As he turns and looks around the room, he notices that Jisung wasn’t in bed with him.

Minho winces as he closes his eyes just barely, hand reaching to caress his forehead as an ache begins to form. He could feel the hungover migraine forming, and he’s instantly filled with regret.

He does his best to roll out of bed, scanning the floor for evidence of his drunken escapade, spotting an unfortunately familiar wrapper laying on the floor, just barely by the corner of the bed. Oh, shit.

He doesn’t remember much, but he remembers sitting by the fire and watching Jisung laugh, completely smitten over the younger while he shot back an entire can of beer. Speaking of Jisung, where the hell was he?

Minho changes his clothes carefully, opening his door and making way for the bathroom just down the hall, strolling inside with a wince the second he turns the light on. He closes the door, eyeing himself in the mirror before looking over his body carefully, noticing a few bitten hickeys on his chest, but nowhere else. So they did hook up, and Minho was completely shit-faced all the while. How fucking embarrassing . Minho’s head tilts forwards and hangs, a groan escaping his lips as he tries to fight off the oncoming migraine.

“YOU DID WHAT?” A voice echoes from downstairs, stirring Minho’s attention towards the bathroom door. Why the hell was Seungmin yelling so damn early?

Worried, Minho pulls the door open and heads for the stairs, quietly making his way down the steps as the voices become clearer.

“Jisung, I can’t fucking believe you!”

“I didn’t know! How was I supposed to know if you didn’t tell me!”

Oh no.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see him again! How was I supposed to know that he worked at the fucking bar we went to that night?”

“You could’ve told me then! You could’ve pointed to him and been like that’s my ex, by the way!”

“Why the hell should I make a big deal out of someone I hadn’t seen in over two years? I didn’t want to start shit when we were supposed to be helping you relax.”

“Seungmin, you can’t be mad at me for shit I didn’t know!”

“I can be fucking mad at you! He told you who I was to him and you still fucked him!”

Minho wants to crawl in a hole and die. If this wasn’t his worst nightmare, it surely was about to be the second he walked into the room.

He’s reached the end of the stairs now, standing there awkwardly as he waited for the two males to calm down, but he wasn’t sure if that was ever going to happen. Minho didn’t know how long they had been talking, but he was sure nothing good was going to come out of it if they were yelling at one another like this.

“If there’s nothing between the two of you, then why were you guys at the coffee shop together?”

Minho’s eyes widened at the knowledge of Jisung having seen them together the same day he took Jisung home and had an awkward encounter. Jisung didn’t mention anything, and neither did he. Was Jisung fucking spying on him?

“How did you know we met up?” Seungmin’s voice is suddenly calmer, caught off-guard by the sudden question.

Minho wants to intervene before Jisung can respond. He was the culprit in all of this, he was the reason their friendship was becoming strained. If it weren’t for him, they wouldn’t be fighting or yelling at each other like this. Their friendship would be able to continue unscathed, free of drama and hurt feelings, all over Minho’s stupid ass decisions.

Minho now regrets it all. As much as he likes Jisung, he didn’t want him to bear any of this pain. Seungmin really didn’t deserve this either. Minho doesn’t want to put an end to his ties with Jisung, but if it came to Jisung having to choose between him and Seungmin, he would tell Jisung to choose Seungmin without hesitating.

Minho knew he wasn’t worth all of this. He’s an idiot, misled by feelings that he hardly understands. He wanted Seungmin in his life, just as a friend, just to soothe the ache of breaking his heart for both parties. He wanted Jisung to himself selfishly; completely and intimately. He didn’t want to be just friends with Jisung anymore, he wanted to show him how much he liked him. But this was ruining all of that, putting an end to his plan to keep both of them around in his life. Jisung was learning the truth, and Seungmin was learning their truth, letting the fire from his anger burn ties to Jisung and Minho simultaneously.

“I saw you. I saw the both of you that day. I-I went to go get coffee and I saw you both through the window. If you guys are trying to figure things out, I’ll stay out of it–”

“Jisung, we are long broken up! Nothing is happening between us anymore.”

“I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t keep his identity private from me like this, and not from Felix either. You fucking lied to me and now you’re mad at me for ruining your relationship that I didn’t know existed!”

“It’s not my fault you fuck anything with a pulse!” That was the final straw. Minho walks hurriedly into the living space, looking at the boys who sat on the couch facing one another. Seungmin’s face was red, tears of pure anger streaming down his face. Jisung was crying too, but out of shame for himself, almost traumatized by the fact that he did this to someone who was supposed to be his best friend.

“Seungmin–” Minho interrupts, watching both males turn to look at him.

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you! You fucking lied to me for years. I hoped that you changed, Minho, but you haven’t, not even in the slightest. Now you’re screwing my best friend and telling me that you don’t love me anymore just so that I can move on and somehow be okay with you two having sex behind my back?!” Seungmin stands from the couch. “Fuck the both of you. Seriously, fuck you.”

“Seungmin, please.” Minho watches him walk away from the couch, timidly trying to reach out to prevent him from leaving.

“No, fuck you Minho. Get out of my way. I do not want to be in the same room as you two anymore.”

“Seungmin, this is not Jisung’s fault. None of this is. I’m selfish and I’m stupid, I-I knew better and kept sleeping with him even when I knew it was wrong.”

“He knew it was wrong too. But he fucked you anyway.” Seungmin pushes Minho to the left, walking directly past him without another word to spare. Minho turns towards Jisung, heart cracking at the sight of him.

He was wearing an oversized hoodie, hair messy and eyes riddled with tears. Minho can hardly bear to look at him, feeling incredibly guilty for everything that just went down. He wants all of it to go away. He knows this was completely his fault, even if he can’t remember all of the details from last night.

“Jisung,” Minho walks to the couch carefully, sitting down next to the younger. Jisung doesn’t move away or move closer; he just sits there.

“I’m sorry I got in the way of both of you. If you love him, you should’ve just told me.”

 “Ji, I don’t love him anymore.” Minho sighs, watching Jisung’s lip tremble as more tears threaten to fall. “I haven’t loved him for a long time.”

“But why did I see you with him? Why would you lie to me?”

“I lied to you–?”

“I came into the shop probably two minutes after Seungmin left. You didn’t bother to mention that you met up with him and instead lied to me. I asked you what you were doing there and you said nothing. You lied.”

“I wanted to avoid this.” Minho says softly. “I didn’t want you to panic because of our situation. I was trying to smooth everything over because. . . of things. I-I don’t want to be too specific.”

“So you’re gonna keep things from me now?”

“No, Jisung, please–”

“Tell me.”

Minho looks at him, mouth slightly agape, eyes widening as he watches Jisung avoid him.

“Tell me. I wanna know the truth. If you lie to me again, Minho, I don’t know if I can continue our friendship.”

“Okay, just–” Minho bites his tongue. “Do you want me to tell you about my relationship with Seungmin from the beginning?”

“Please. . . maybe it’ll make all of this easier to understand.”

“Let’s go outside. I don’t wanna talk in here.” Minho stands from the couch, waiting for Jisung to follow before he leads him outside.

It was relatively warm, the sun slowly rising further into the sky as it dared to paint the atmosphere in shades of reds and pinks. Jisung closes the door behind them, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. Minho walks down the steps that lead off of the concrete patio, walking down to the beach until he sees two chairs off to the left, vacant and sun-soaked.

Minho turns to look behind him, watching Jisung carefully trek down the wooden steps and towards him, following the elder to the unfamiliar seats. Jisung sits down, Minho does too, and then they’re wrapped in awkward silence that is only voided by the crashing waves.

“We dated for two years.” Minho starts timidly to break the tension, eyes looking towards the moving ocean. “We went to the same college and miraculously had a lab together. I’m older than him by a few years, so it still surprises me that we ended up in that course together. But, after a ton of study sessions together, simply because we couldn’t be fucked to study with anyone else, we just started becoming friends and I realized I had a thing for him. I didn’t know how he felt about me or if he was even into me until I took him to a baseball game and he kissed me. We went out on dates every week after that and we just fell into a routine until I officially asked him out. I did love him at first, I really did. Everything was good for a while until it just suddenly wasn’t.”

“What changed?”

“Well, when I graduated from college, I moved into an apartment and asked him to move in with me. But, after a month of living together, it just felt like we were glorified roommates. We were suddenly estranged and sitting at opposite ends of the couch, paying more attention to our phones rather than each other. We kissed once in the morning if we remembered to, but we hardly ever had sex, stopped going out on our weekly dates and we just. . . ended up existing in the same home. It was really hard on me, and on him too, probably. I didn’t communicate, which was my downfall, and that led to resentment on my part, which ended up in me doing something terrible that ultimately destroyed us. I know now that it was for the better because we just don’t work together like that, but everything that I did to him isn’t okay.”

“Last night, you told me you cheated on someone.” Jisung sniffles. “Did you lie? Were you just drunk when you said that?”

Minho feels the urge to vomit. Not word vomit, actual vomit. “I didn’t lie to you about that, Ji. I did cheat. I, uhm– fuck. I-I cheated. . . on Seungmin.”

Jisung is silent for a long time. He doesn’t move, doesn’t bother to look at Minho; he just quietly sits there and listens to the silence build between them. Minho doesn’t know if he should continue or if he should wait for Jisung to say something, so he decides to just keep talking.

“I hate myself for it.” Minho admits, swallowing his tears. “Everyday that I think about it, I hate myself more. I hate myself more than you probably hate me now. Probably more than Seungmin hates me too.”

“Why did you cheat on him?” Jisung looks at his hands.

“I was stupid. I wasn’t in love with him anymore and I was just too scared to admit it. Chan took me out to a bar, I ended up getting really wasted and the first guy I saw that was interested in me, I let him take me to his house. I couldn’t remember a lot of the details and I still don’t, but recently I got so caught up in the guilt of what I was doing that I had to find out who it was. I think your friend Felix might know him, actually.”

“Oh my god, Minho–”

“His name is Jeongin. I couldn’t remember it at first, but I did some digging and he came up in Felix’s following list on Instagram. They went to school together and I remember him telling me that he was some type of model in an agency, so I just put two and two together when Hyune told me that Felix was a designer of some sort.”

“God, what is with you and sleeping with my friend group?” Jisung wants to laugh, just because the whole situation was incredibly ridiculous, but he shakes his head instead, smiling at himself in shock.

“I don’t know. Shitty coincidence, I guess.” Minho knows that it isn’t an excuse, but he really didn’t know what else to say. Everything that seemed to be coming out of his mouth kept getting worse and worse, but there was nothing he could do to lessen the blow of any of this. “I told Seungmin a week after it happened. He was mad at me. . .  more mad than I’ve ever seen him. He kept pushing and shoving me, trying to get me to give him a reason but I never told him why. I broke up with him after that, only because he didn’t deserve anything I was doing to him.”

Jisung turns to look at him, chewing on his bottom lip, trying to think of something to say as the truth boils over. No words come out as he looks at Minho, wondering where their relationship, or whatever label they held now, went so wrong.

“I promise you that I spent the last few years hating myself for what I did. I’ve worked on myself, had to switch jobs and move out of that shitty apartment just to try and move on from what I did. I can’t put someone through that again. I just can’t–” Minho’s voice breaks. “Especially you. Seeing you like this really fucking hurts, Jisung. I hate that I did this and that I lied, and I hate that I fucked over Seungmin so much, but I can’t change what I did now. I’ve just been trying to repair the ties I had with everyone, but I’ve been failing miserably.”

“I’m glad you see that what you did was wrong.” Jisung finally talks, voice mumbled and almost strained. Minho hates how red Jisung’s eyes are. “I hate that you lied to me about all of this.”

“I hate that I hurt you like this.”

“Have you lied to me about anything else?” Jisung asks worriedly, but Minho shakes his head almost immediately.

“No. Just about Seungmin.”

“Can I be honest with you about something?” Jisung’s eyes lift to meet Minho’s, watching Minho’s brows pinch together curiously before smoothing out his expression again.

“Of course.”

“I really like you, Minho.” Jisung reaches his hand across the space between them, taking Minho’s hand in his. He’s confused, awestruck, completely bamboozled by the words that just erupted from Jisung’s mouth without hesitance. Minho wants to yell and he wants to scream; everything that he’s had pent up deeply inside of him is begging for release as he sits and watches Jisung with shock covering his eyes. Minho wants to pull him to his lap and kiss him senseless, but the look on Jisung’s face immediately sends his wave of unexpected happiness crashing back to Earth. “But I need space.”

“Jisung–”

“I need time to think. I’ve been confused about everything for a long time. I’ve liked you for weeks, I think, ignoring it all because we agreed to. But after hearing what you did to my best friend, and after all the turmoil you’ve brought into my life, I-I need space. I don’t know how long I need or–” Jisung swallows his tears. “I just need to breathe. I said I didn’t want to kiss you because I didn’t want to catch feelings for you, but I really just didn’t want to fall for you, Minho. I’m stupidly fucking obsessed with you and I need time to figure myself out.”

Minho doesn’t know what to say again. Jisung is holding his hand so tightly that he’s afraid his fingers will bruise, but he’d take the pain for Jisung just so that the younger never had to feel this pain ever again.

“Do what you have to,” is all Minho can settle on, eyes looking up at Jisung’s with tears bridging over. There’s nothing he can argue for. Jisung needed to figure this out on his own, and Minho would have to sit and listen to his words on repeat, almost like a karma-filled horror movie. I really like you, Minho.

Minho wants to say the confession back, but he deems it inappropriate.

“I’m gonna go inside. We can still talk and everything, but I just need to take a step back. We’ve gotta stop flirting and hugging and having sex, I just–. . . all of it has to stop.”

“I know, I get it. I made some stupid ass decisions and I know that. I lied to try and prevent this from happening but it bit me in the ass. I’m not gonna sit here and tell you what to do, Ji, but the moment you figure it out, please come see me.”

Jisung raises Minho’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles tenderly before letting go of his hand, rising from his chair with tears threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry, Minho. I am.”

“I’m sorry too.” Minho makes eye contact with Jisung one more time before he leaves, head dipping down to stare at his hands as he listens to Jisung’s steps trail further and further away. There was no promise of Jisung coming back to continue their relationship or whatever the hell they were now, and Minho hated that admittance the most.

He thought he hated himself a lot before, but there was no doubt in his mind that he truly hated himself more than he ever has.

“Minho?” A voice creeps in from behind his ajar bedroom door, earning the slightest annoyed hum to rumble from his chest.

“What?” Minho’s voice is low, uninterested; back turned to his door as he lays on his side with his gaze focused on the windows, trying to find peace in the crashing ocean waves.

“Jisung told me what’s going on.” Chris says as he enters the room, closing the door behind him. Minho didn’t turn over, he just laid there, numb to the emotions surging in his mind. Chris expected Minho to act like this, so it hardly catches him off guard. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I just wanna be alone, Chan. I fucked everything up, okay? It’s about time I stopped talking. Talking about any of it got me into trouble in the first place.”

“Minho,” Chris sighs, sitting down on the bed behind his friend. “I wish you heard how Jisung talked about you just now.”

“I know he claims to like me or some shit. I don’t deserve it. He needs to get over me.”

“Stop it.” Chris smacks his arm gently. “Can you please just talk to me? I think hearing what Jisung said might make you feel a bit at ease.”

Minho rolls over onto his back, eyes looking up at his friend. He was really tired, he really didn’t have it in him to argue right now. Tired of fighting, tired of love, tired of life; tired of it all.

“I sat with him after he came inside. I heard Seungmin slam his door and yell earlier, so when I went out to investigate, you two had already walked to the beach and Seungmin wouldn’t talk to me. I waited for Jisung to come back in and he was distraught. We sat on the couch for a little bit before Felix offered to take him somewhere so they left with Hyunjin a little bit ago. But, the one thing I wanna tell you that Jisung said was that he claims that he can never hate you because of how much he likes you.”

“He has to hate me.” Minho blinks his reddened eyes twice. “He can’t fucking like me after what I did to him.”

“Lying isn’t a good way to start any relationship, I’m sure you know that. But he told me that he was feeling different after yesterday. He was saying something about feeling sure about whatever emotions he’s been hiding.”

“He did seem different.” Minho mutters, thinking back to their time at the aquarium. Minho never intended for it to seem like a date, but what if Jisung thought of it that way?

“Give him the time he needs. I told you this before, but now I really need you to give him space and time in order to deal with everything you just told him. I’m sure you can imagine that it’s probably taken a toll on him mentally. Still, I’m really glad he knows the truth now.”

“I know. It wasn’t fair to him.” Minho’s eyes turn away from Chris’s gaze.

“It’s not fair to any of you. Don’t go thinking that you deserve all of this just because you made a stupid mistake like four years ago.”

“But I’m an asshole, Chan.”

“No you’re not. You were young. You were stupid. You made a mistake.” Chris shakes his shoulder gently with every statement, hoping his words will reach him somehow. “Please don’t beat yourself up for this.”

“I hurt him, Chan.” Minho bites his tongue, feeling tears threaten to spill over. “I hate that I hurt Jisung like this.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Chris soothes. “Relax. He’s okay. He’ll be okay.”

“He told me that he wanted space but what if he never comes back? What if we’re done?”

“Minho, relax.” Chris watches as Minho finally falls apart, his cold exterior melting away as all of his ignored emotions flood to the front. Minho leans upright, arms extending outwards for a hug that Chris happily accepts. “He’s not gonna leave. No one’s gonna leave.”

“You don’t know that–” Minho hiccups, burying his face deeper into Chris’s neck.

“I do know that.” Chris rubs his back soothingly, waiting and waiting for Minho’s cries to calm down. “I don’t think you realize how much you mean to him.”

Minho doesn’t respond and only hugs him tighter, eyes tightly shut as he tries to swallow his tears. “He can deny it all he wants, and you can too–”

Chris’s voice drops to a mumble. “But you two like each other more than you’re willing to admit.”

Chapter Text

Warm water cascades down clean skin, dripping below the dip of abdominal muscles, sinking further until it reaches the shower floor and swims towards the drain. Steam clouds the locked bathroom, fogging the mirror beyond the closed shower door, a navy towel resting on a hook, warm from the steam.

Minho delicately rinses his auburn tresses under the pour of the showerhead, tilting his head back, left hand pushing his hair out of his face. Minho didn’t know how long he had been in the shower, sitting beneath the warm water to clear his mind of tortuous thoughts that he couldn’t seem to shake.

His mind was filled with images of Jisung from various days spent together, touching and feeling one another, sitting on the couch and laughing at random videos Jisung found on the internet after kissing each other breathless. It’s been almost two months of their arrangement, and Minho knew it was all going to end eventually; feelings like this never last anyway.

Before Jisung, the few people he’s hooked up with have been far and few inbetween. He’s never seen any of them more than once, and almost immediately afterwards, he found himself filled to the brim with regret. Jisung was never one of those. Minho would never regret a single moment spent with him, even if it meant it ended like this every time.

He turns the shower off, breathing deeply, eyes shutting as he lets the remaining water trickle down his skin. His mind is incredibly hazy, stuck on memories he wishes to push away for the sake of sleep, but the more he wills for them to leave, the stronger they become.

This was just a crush, just a fleeting fantasy! Minho wasn’t sure why these memories were so persistent over someone he could never have. Jisung clearly, and hopefully, would choose his best friend over him. Minho didn’t deserve him. He wanted to be alone to avoid hurting anyone else any further, given that the only thing he’s done as of late is hurt two people that mean a lot to him.

There was nothing he could convince himself of now, stuck in isolating memories that continue to play like a movie stuck on repeat. Minho had always chased after things he wanted, sometimes leaving him afraid that he would never be able to have whatever it was that he wanted so badly, but this time he finds himself running away from what he wanted. He truly believed that Jisung deserved better than him, and he hoped Jisung would realize that too.

It was late. The last time Minho checked the time, it was around ten, but considering the long shower he just took, he assumed that it was almost eleven. As he steps out of the shower, he wraps a towel around his waist and begins drying himself off, trying to remain immune to the feelings simmering in his mind.

He spent the last couple of hours alone in his bedroom, bringing himself to numbness after Chris had left. Chris stayed with him for an hour, talking and consoling him, trying to urge the younger to come with him downstairs so they could go eat somewhere. But Minho said no to every advance. Minho wanted to lay in bed, wanted to think about his actions, and he wanted to make himself pay the price for lying about his past.

If paying the price was served in isolation, it was what he had to do and he accepted that.

Minho pulls joggers over his waist and throws on a random black tee, exiting the bathroom with damp hair as he swings to the right, entering back into his bedroom to find it empty. Jisung wasn’t there. He sighs, knowing extremely well why he wasn’t, hoping that he was at least downstairs with Felix or someone else. Minho knew how Jisung tended to overthink, so he just hoped to find him somewhere where he wasn’t alone.

Minho then decides that he needs to ask if Jisung was going to sleep in here tonight, or what the arrangement was, unsure of if Jisung even wanted to share a bed with him. So, he gathers his thoughts and strolls back into the hall, heading down the stairs carefully, listening to the sound of the television becoming louder the farther he descended to the first floor. Minho’s steps are timid as he rounds the corner, spotting Jisung cuddled up against Felix, who was holding Hyunjin’s hand while he scrolled on his phone. Minho sighs, watching as Jisung’s gaze avoids him, almost purposefully, and he feels his heart begin to crack.

“Jisung–” Minho manages to mutter, watching Felix and Jisung’s eyes both trail towards him. Hyunjin remained focused on his phone. “I don’t know if you wanted me to sleep elsewhere, or what you wanted me to do about the sleeping situation.”

“I’m not gonna ask you to sleep on the couch, hyung. We’re adults. We can share a bed.”

“Well, I’m going to bed now, I think. Are you coming up soon or?”

“I don’t know Minho.” Jisung turns his attention away, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. Minho wants to say something else, but Felix’s gaze was evertelling, leaving Minho wordless as he walks back into the hall without another glance. But before he can round himself back onto the staircase, he hears Chris coming down the stairs, which catches his attention fully.

“Hey–” Minho spots a suitcase in his hand. “What’re you doing?”

“Seungmin wants to go home. I offered to stay in a hotel with him near the airport so I could get him on the earliest flight back to Seoul.”

“He doesn’t want to be around me, huh?” Minho mumbles, and Chris shakes his head.

“He doesn’t want to be around Jisung, actually. I think he’s just overwhelmed by everything, so he just wants space and time away from everyone. Having Felix and Hyunjin all over each other is probably not helping either.”

“Oh.” Minho’s jaw tightens. He completely forgot how affected Seungmin might be about all of this, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to apologize to him right now. Seungmin was really pissed the last time Minho saw him earlier that day, so he assumed it was best to leave him be. “Uhm, can you tell them at least where you’re going? Maybe mention to Jisung that there’s gonna be a free bedroom now if he wants it. I don’t want to force him to sleep next to me if he doesn’t want to.”

“Why don’t you want to tell him?”

“I tried to talk to him and he’s acting so cold to me now, so it might sound better coming from you.” Minho shrugs. “I’m gonna go to bed, though. You’re coming back here to drive me to the airport, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll come get you before our flight takes off. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Channie.” Minho weakly smiles at him before stepping onto a couple of stairs.

“Hey, Minho?” Chris calls after him, watching the younger turn around and stop momentarily, hand resting on the railing. “Please call me if you need me. I know how you are, Minho. Don’t isolate yourself again. Please.”

Minho’s heart cracks further at the vulnerability in Chris’s words, hating the shaky tone near the end of his sentiment. Minho knew that Chris could see right through him without even sparing a second glance. Minho hated that. But he could never hate Chris.

“Okay,” is all Minho can manage to say before turning around and heading back up the stairs.

“Jisung?” Chris calls from the hall, stirring the comfortably sitting younger to turn his attention towards him with unamusement settling into his gaze.

“Hm?” Jisung hums, arching a brow.

“Seungmin doesn’t want to stay here tonight. I’m taking him off to a hotel so he can decompress and catch an early morning flight home.”

“He really doesn’t want to be around me that bad?” Jisung sits forward on the couch, attention piqued, eyes slowly blinking wider.

“He’s just really stressed, Jisung. Don’t think too much into it.”

“God, I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.” Jisung sighs, leaning back into the couch, folding his arms across his chest. Chris bites his lip, unsure of how to comfort the male without digging a wider gap between his two friends.

“Stop it. You’re gonna say that until you remember how much you’d regret hiding all of it from him to begin with.” Felix intervenes, and Chris is visibly thankful.

“Well, I just came by to say that I’ll be gone tonight. There’s a free room if you want it, Jisung. You don’t have to ask to use it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks.” Jisung breathes, voice low, eyes cast down at his lap. Chris feels bad, but there was nothing he could do to make any of it better. He was just thankful that Jisung had a place to sleep away from Minho, and had one of his best friends there to comfort him as he sought out.

Chris leaves and Jisung stares, eyes searching the voided space for answers that provide nothing for his lingering questions, stirring his mind into silent chaos.

“Jisung.” Felix smacks his friend on the chest, which finally stirs Jisung into turning his attention back, brow raised with irritation, reddening his ears.

“Ow? What the hell?”

“You were zoned out.” Felix nervously laughs. “Sorry. I asked you something and you didn’t respond.”

“Sorry, Lix. Just a lot on my mind, alright?”

“I know, Ji. I’m sorry.”

“What’s your question?”

“Are you gonna sleep next to Minho? Or are you gonna sleep alone? If you want company, I can stay awake with you or something.”

Jisung fell into silence, gaze shifting away towards the television, stuck in limbo between both options that held good and bad side effects. Jisung could give in one more time, sleeping next to the one person he was falling for, indulging in sinful wishes that he needed to say goodbye to. On the other hand, sleeping by himself will avoid all issues, all drama, and all hurt feelings from opposing parties. But he wasn’t sure if he’d spare his own feelings in doing so.

“I don’t know.” Jisung settles with, chewing on his lip anxiously. “I. . . I want him, Felix. But I fucking hate him right now.”

“You have every right to be mad at him for what he did.” Felix assures, hand reaching over to rest on his knee. “But I know that you don’t hate him.”

Jisung wants to argue, but every fiber within his being knows how right Felix was, and it was down right irritating. He didn’t hate Minho, he never did. He’s in denial, and Jisung sometimes believes that he’s been in denial for almost a month. He claims to hate how he feels and how comfortable it was to be around Minho, but Jisung has come to learn that he doesn’t hate it and he never has. He loves it.

He wants to be selfish so badly. He wants to sink into bed with Minho, cry into his chest and wonder why all of this had to be so hard; but he knew the answer to it all. He would have to choose between his best friend and the one person he wanted more than anyone else.

Minho was supposed to be a fling, something less than what they now were. Little did he know that he’d fall for a routine of casual sex, a friendship that blossomed so easily, and a longing desire to be at Minho’s apartment rather than his own.

“You’re right.” Jisung swallows, the words stinging the back of his throat. “I don’t. I tried to hate him. I tried to be upset and I tried not to want him so much, but god dammit Felix–”

Jisung’s hands find his face, tears finally breaking over. “I thought that after yesterday, things were starting to be different. The time we spent alone yesterday was not like anything we’ve done before. I was mesmerized by everything we were looking at, and half of the time I swore he was looking at me more than he was ever looking at the fish.”

Felix’s hand on Jisung’s knee tightens and Jisung’s hands fall, not realizing that Hyunjin was listening too, phone tucked away and paying whole hearted attention. “I’m not stupid, Felix. I think he wants me just as much as I want him. But with everything he’s done and lied about. . . I can’t have him.”

Jisung swallows his tears and takes a shaky breath. “I feel like I have no choice here. I have to choose between Seungmin and Minho, and I really, really do not want to.”

“Then don’t.” Felix begs, but Jisung shakes his head.

“I can’t lose Seungmin. I can’t.” Jisung whines. “So I have to lose Minho.”

“No you don’t, Ji! Give this time to cool off so that you can talk to Seungmin and try to smooth things over. You don’t have to lose one or the other. You can have them both!”

“You know Seungmin just like I do, Felix. He’s going to give me a choice, and if I choose Minho, then he’s disappearing from my life completely. He’s never going to forgive me if I choose Minho over him.”

“It’s not right for Seungmin to dictate who you can and cannot love, Ji. Please hear that. Please listen to that. He cannot tell you to not love someone.”

“He has every right to right now.” Jisung shakes his head, standing from the couch.

“Where are you going?” Felix almost rises off the couch too, but Hyunjin places his hand onto Felix’s thigh to catch his attention.

Jisung shrugs, eyes red and cheeks stained with tears, body slightly shaking from the anxiety passing through his veins as he stands there, trying to avoid Felix and Hyunjin’s gaze. “I don’t know. Upstairs, I think.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Something stupid.” Jisung turns around. “I’m not rational and I’m not in my right mind right now. Everything is so hard to fucking understand and I just want to be with him right now.”

“I’m not gonna stop you.” Felix says quietly, leaning back into the couch. “But really think about what you’re gonna do in there before you do it.”

“I don’t wanna think anymore.” Jisung mutters almost to himself before walking down the hall, listening to Felix and Hyunjin start discussing something after he had left, feet trekking up the stairs quickly until he reaches the landing. He turns to the left, pacing towards the final room and opening the door, spotting Minho sitting on the bed with tears in his eyes.

Minho just sits there and stares. Jisung stares right back.

“I’m really fucking upset with you right now.” Jisung deadpans. “But I don’t know where else to go.”

“Ji, I don’t know if it’s a good idea that we talk about this right now.”

“I don’t care anymore.” Jisung takes a few steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Just let me be selfish right now.”

“Jisung, you’re going to regret all of this tomorrow–”

“Minho, stop. Just fucking stop! I want all of it to stop and I just need you to fucking hold me or touch me or do something!” Jisung watches Minho’s expression fall as his words reach him. “Just fucking have me. Please.”

“Jisung–”

“Please.” Jisung’s eyes are full of tears, taking another step forward, hands reaching out. Minho rises from the bed, timidly reaching his own hands out, almost afraid to take Jisung’s in his own. Jisung cannot stand the distance and grabs him, pulling him into him, hugging the elder so tight that Minho feels like he can’t breathe.

Minho wants to protest, knowing how wrong all of this felt, but he wills himself to silence and hugs Jisung back. Jisung’s hands clutch onto the back of Minho’s shirt, embracing him tightly, knuckles burning white as tears sink below the curve of his jaw. Minho just stands there, arms wrapped around him, feeling Jisung’s lungs rise and fall with the steadiness of his cries, his body shaking as he tries to hold in his tears.

“Ji–” Minho mutters. “Please don’t hold it in.”

“I-I’m so confused, Minho.” Jisung’s voice is weak and broken, nearly hard to understand between muffled sobs. Minho’s heart cracks even more, almost ready to snap in half.

“What do you need?” Minho listens to Jisung’s breath hitch, tears catching in his throat, grip falling lax. Jisung pulls away timidly, eyes redder than before, cheeks flooded with falling tears. Minho’s hand reaches up, thumb brushing away tear stains, gaze turning soft.

Jisung knows what he wants. Felix’s words radiate through his mind, coming to the forefront, sticking like glue as he eyes Minho, hesitance building in his chest. Walk away. Walk. Away.

He can’t. He’s weak and he knows he’s digging his own grave with this decision, but something inside of him can hardly resist the way Minho is looking at him. Jisung’s hands flee away from their harsh hold on Minho’s shirt, rising towards his neck, tilting the elder’s head down with little resistance. Jisung searches Minho’s expression for any sign of wanting him to stop, but Jisung only finds compliance.

A quick, chaste kiss is placed on Minho’s lips, rapidly falling away as Jisung fights off the regret building in his gut. He rests his forehead against Minho’s, eyes blinking shut as he finds the courage to mutter a response to Minho’s question. “You.”

Minho’s eyes flutter towards Jisung’s lips, watching Jisung’s blink open, staring right up at him through his lashes. Minho’s hands drift down to Jisung’s waist, almost ready to curl his fingers into the younger’s soft skin.

“Are you sure? Jisung, I know you’re upset and everything right now, but I don’t know if this is the answer–”

“Minho,” Jisung swallows and takes a breath, tilting his head upwards, lips grazing over Minho’s teasingly. “Shut the fuck up.”

Jisung presses forwards and steals the breath from Minho, slotting their lips together, hands on the back of Minho’s neck pulling him even closer.

Unable to control himself anymore, Minho no longer wills to hold back what he wants too, guiding Jisung to the left and turning him around, listening as the back of his calves and thighs greet the edge of the bed. Jisung slowly begins to sit down, dragging Minho with him by the collar of his shirt. Minho follows like a loyal dog, lips never breaking away from Jisung’s as he towers over him, knees landing between the younger’s thighs. Jisung’s legs preventatively hook around Minho’s waist, ankles crossed and hands lowering to tug at the bottom of Minho’s shirt.

Jisung practically rips the shirt over Minho’s head, throwing the article of clothing away somewhere in the room. Jisung’s hands smooth over Minho’s built torso, reveling in the curve of his abs and build. Minho breaks away from Jisung’s searching lips, hands moving to push the younger’s shirt upwards, head sinking down to kiss an open-mouthed trail up Jisung’s abdomen, further and further until he stops at his chest. Minho’s hands roll the shirt further until he rips it over Jisung’s head, tossing it away with haste.

Jisung’s hands tug and pull, pushing Minho’s pants down as far as he could manage until they fall from reach and Minho kicks them off onto the floor.

“We’re gonna regret this–” Minho breathes, pressing a few more kisses to Jisung’s chest. “Tomorrow.”

“I already regret it.” Jisung dismisses breathily, his own hands wrapping around the waistband of his shorts, struggling to pull them down until Minho’s own hands curl over the hem, tugging and pulling until they fall off completely.

“You still mad at me?” Minho asks, lips traveling towards Jisung’s pulse in his throat.

“Yeah–” Jisung groans, back slightly arching when Minho’s teeth graze over his skin. “I’m still fucking mad at you.”

“How mad are you?” Minho asks, lips pressing a kiss below his ear, voice low and edged with a growl.

“So mad–” Jisung writhes. “So mad I wanted to hate you.”

“Do you still hate me?” Minho presses a biting kiss to his throat again, teeth grabbing a hold of his skin gently and pulling, listening to Jisung’s breath hitch. Satisfaction grows in his stomach, a smile pulling at his lips as he keeps Jisung pressed against the mattress with the curl of his hands.

“God–” Jisung’s head arches back, teeth biting into his bottom lip. “No. I-I don’t, ugh. I can’t.”

“How much do you like me then, Jisungie? Hmm?”

Jisung’s hands pull Minho’s head back towards him, lips attacking Minho’s in a rushed kiss that fuels the fire burning between them, doused in gasoline, ready to explode. “God, Minho–”

“That’s not an answer,” Minho hums against his lips, biting Jisung’s bottom lip and sucking, releasing it from his grasp with a heavy breath. “Tell me, Jisungie.”

“I-” Jisung swallows, squirming beneath Minho’s grasp. “I like you so fucking much.”

Minho kisses him, hips grinding down, pressing their skin together with delicious friction. Jisung groans into his mouth, tongue searching out new territory until Minho bites his tongue and sucks filthily.

Minho parts from him with a breath, lips moving from his chin to his jaw, then sinking further as he trails down his torso to his abdomen, lips pressing against his pelvis, hands curled around his waist as he presses him into the bed.

Jisung hooks his leg around Minho tighter, using whatever strength he could mutter to flip them over, staring down at Minho with bruising hickeys painting his neck. Minho grabs and pulls, lips attaching themselves to Jisung’s again, only for Jisung to place both of his hands on his chest and push down, detaching their lips. Jisung rises from the bed, rushing over to his bag to grab the final pieces to their missing puzzle.

Minho leans upright on his elbows, watching Jisung reapproach, items in hand, face red and eyes smothered in lust. Minho leans upright fully, letting Jisung straddle his lap, lips inches from one another as they breathe the same air. Minho’s legs dangle off of the edge of the bed while Jisung’s hips settle to greet his with very little distance. Minho’s hand rises to caress the back of Jisung’s neck, ghosting his lips over Jisung’s, eyes lulled and heavy. Jisung places the items in his grasp onto the bed beside them, chest heaving with anticipation.

“Tell me again what you want, Jisungie.” Minho teases, watching Jisung bite down onto his bottom lip and release it almost just as fast.

“You.” He breathes, a loyal hand reaching between Minho’s thighs. “Just give me all of you.”

“Fuck.” Minho mumbles, head tilting at the warm contact spreading between his legs. Minho presses closer, lips touching Jisung’s in the ghost of a kiss, a vague promise, silently seeking consent as Jisung smiles and chases him, slotting their lips together languidly.

There’s no rush, no hesitance; just them.

Minho reaches for the bottle next to him, popping open the lid, spreading the liquid between his fingers messily. Jisung’s hips rise subtly as Minho’s hand reaches around, their once languid kiss turning rushed and hungry, mostly tongue and sloppy.

Jisung’s breath catches in his throat the second he feels Minho, the essence of a groan building in the back of his throat. Minho swallows Jisung’s shared breath, nipping at his bottom lip as he slides his tongue back into his mouth.

The quiet slide of another pressing into Jisung sends the younger’s head tilting backwards, neck exposed for Minho with flooding bruises. Minho takes advantage, sinking his teeth into Jisung’s flesh like a ravenous vampire, biting and sucking, lips leaving open-mouthed kisses all over his skin.

Jisung’s hips try to rock back and forth, but Minho’s other hand holds him still, fingers digging gentle divots into his skin as he forces the younger to comply. Jisung’s hand falls away, movement at a stand still as his back arches, head tilting forward again as he seeks out Minho’s lips again, swollen and red.

“How bad do you want me, Jisungie?” Minho hisses against his lips, casting realization across Jisung’s mind. A song floods his core, ears ringing, lips agape; it’s only then that he settles into the realization of why he could never finish his track. He was writing a song about wanting something, but never actually discussing what. Sleepless night after sleepless night he sat in front of his desk, nearly slamming his head against the wall, wondering why the track wouldn’t produce itself. But as he sits on Minho’s lap, feeling him and tasting him; the realization comes to the forefront and hits him like an oncoming speeding truck.

“So bad.” Jisung whispers. “Want you so bad.”

The song was always about Minho. He could deny it all he wanted, but the track only found progress after spending time with the elder, and otherwise remained completely untouched. Minho was his muse, his desire and all of his wants, combined into one unbelievably hot bartender that Jisung cannot drink up enough of. He needs Minho like air, suffocating on the longing sensation building in his gut. He didn’t want anyone else. Only Minho. Minho was his and he was Minho’s.

Minho flips them back over, pushing Jisung’s legs back around his lower back. Two gentle kisses are placed to each of his spread thighs, leaning closer afterwards, head craning down until he kisses Jisung’s lips again.

Jisung’s back arches the second he feels Minho press into him, lips breaking away for air, hands reaching for the elder’s back to ground himself. Minho slowly rolls his hips, sending a flash of peace cooling over Jisung’s skin.

His mind goes blank, every single pouring emotion that he spent so much time agonizing over now comes to a halt, lost in the sensation of Minho’s hips rolling into his. He’s complete, letting himself become lax, groaning with every forward motion that Minho easily drinks up to spur him on further.

“Still mad at me now, Jisungie?” Minho whispers.

“I could never stay mad at you–” Jisung breathes, nails digging into Minho’s back. “You’re everything.”

Minho’s hips roll languidly, slow and tentative, pacing at a pace Jisung could only describe as loving. There’s no benefit to this anymore, Jisung realizes, acknowledging the fact that they were having sex purely because they wanted to feel each other, an excuse to cover the idea about how much they truly liked one another.

“Tell me that again,” Minho demands under his breath.

“You’re everything to me.” Jisung promises, drunk on pleasure and desire, letting the truth flee from his tongue without thought. “I think about you all the time–”

Jisung’s breath hitches for a moment, feeling Minho’s teeth latch onto his throat. “I hate how much I want you everyday that I spent most nights wondering w-why you have such an effect on me.”

Minho snaps his hips forward, lips raising to Jisung’s ear. “Why’s that, Jisungie?”

“I’m addicted to you–” Jisung’s back arches, legs squeezing around Minho. “I would never forgive myself if I let you go.”

Minho’s lips sear against Jisung’s, groaning into his mouth, hips quickening with every muttered confession.

“I’m so fucking crazy about you,” Minho mutters the second they part, fingers curling into the sheets as his hips turn into something more sinful and fulfilling, leaving tenderness off of the table.

“Sometimes–” Jisung chokes, cut off by a guttural groan, nails dragging down Minho’s back. “Sometimes I feel like if I don’t stop seeing you, I’m g’na. . . I–”

“Words, jagiya–” Minho warns, lips pressing against his jaw.

“If we didn’t stop, I th-thought I was going to fall for you.”

Minho’s teeth latch onto Jisung’s shoulder, biting down, but not enough to hurt him. Jisung’s skin swallows the groan that Minho lets roll off of his tongue, which earns a grin of satisfaction to plague the younger’s lips.

“I think–” Jisung’s breathing picks up suddenly, eyes welling with tears. “I think I am falling for you.”

The words result in Minho’s undoing, hips stuttering, breaths uneven, crumbling to a confession he never thought he’d ever hear. Jisung struggles to ground himself as he lets himself go too, breathing heavily as he comes crawling back down from a delusional high. Guilt floods his vision the moment he claws himself back to reality, tears sinking over the edge as they trail down his face. He’s numb for a moment, staring up at the ceiling with Minho’s forehead against his shoulder, wondering what the fuck he had just done.

Exhaustion pulls at his eyes shortly after, feeling his lids turn heavy and his heart slow against his chest, legs falling away from Minho’s back.

Minho raises his head after a few calming breaths, pressing a few kisses to Jisung’s cheek before carefully pulling away and out of him, reaching for his discarded joggers. Jisung continues to stare up at the ceiling, focusing on his breathing, trying to ignore every rushing thought that sought out the will to bring him to tears.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Minho mumbles and Jisung nods, eyes closing to hold his tears at bay. Minho leaves, door resting ajar as he lays there, hands shakily raising to wipe away the wetness on his cheeks. The inevitable truth left his tongue so easily. Jisung’s palm rushes to smack himself on the forehead, struggling to compose himself before the elder returns.

Jisung knew it was getting harder to keep his feelings a secret, and with all of the sudden truths pouring out from several people, his mind suddenly snapped. What was the point of keeping it a secret anymore? Minho was brutally honest with him earlier, so sue him, he wanted to be brutally honest, too. Jisung knew what this confession meant, but he also knew the consequences of his actions.

Seungmin couldn’t find out about this. Jisung panics quietly. What if he already knew? What if Felix texted him? What if Minho was telling him? What if–

“Hey,” Minho closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, Ji?”

“Huh?” Jisung manages to mutter, wiping the wetness away from his eyes.

“Are you crying?” Minho approaches, a warm wet cloth in his hand. “Jisung, be honest with me.”

“No. . . yes, I dunno.” Jisung pushes himself to sit upright, taking the cloth from Minho’s hand as he offers it, messing with the fabric of it between his fingers. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Talk to me, Ji. I’m right here.”

“There’s nothing to talk about Minho.” Jisung leans down and reaches for his shorts, wiping away at his abdomen when he sits upright again.

“There’s a ton to talk about. Just depends on what you want to talk about.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about any of it. Okay? Is that good enough?” Jisung throws the cloth to the floor, standing from the bed to pull his shorts over his legs and to his waist, band quietly snapping to his skin.

“Well I do! I can’t force you to talk to me, Ji, but there is stuff we have to talk about.”

“What happened to understanding that I needed space?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Minho stands from the bed too, standing within inches of Jisung. “You wanted space, so you decided to shut me out, share words with Felix and Hyunjin, then come up here and beg for me to have sex with you? Where does that make any fucking sense?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Yes the fuck you do! You just fucking told me that you were falling in love with me, Jisung! I know you don’t fucking lie. You just crucified me for lying about my past, so tell me, did you lie about that? Or were you telling the truth?”

“What does it matter! You ruined my friendship with Seungmin, you ruined a part of my life, and you fucking ruined this entire weekend!”

“Tell me the truth.” Minho deadpans, anger boiling over in his chest. Jisung looks away from him, reaching down to grab his shirt from the floor.

“I don’t owe you shit.”

“Yes you do!” Minho reaches to grab Jisung’s wrist, pulling his attention back to him. “You can’t tell me all of that shit and then turn around and pretend that you said none of it!”

“It doesn’t matter now. We can’t be together. If I have to choose Seungmin or you, I’m gonna choose Seungmin.”

“I didn’t expect you to choose me. I just expected you to be fucking honest with me.”

“Oh, don’t you even dare go there, Minho.” Jisung snatches his wrist away, eyes brimmed with tears. “You have no fucking right to tell me to be honest.”

“Jisung, I didn’t mean it like that–”

“How did you mean it? Do you want me to sit here and tell you about how much I think about you? Or that I can’t work on that stupid fucking song I’ve been stuck on because I only make progress on it after I see you? Or that I wish we could be together? Or–. . . or that–” Jisung is crying. Ugly crying. Minho’s heart finally snaps in half and crumbles into pieces at the sight of him. “Or that I’m afraid of being so in love with you that I lose myself?”

“Jisung, I’m sorry–”

“No.” Jisung shakes his head, reaching up to wipe away his tears. “Fuck you, Minho. We’re done. Everything about us is done. I’ve made up my mind and I-I can’t do this shit anymore.”

Minho visibly winces, the words harsh as they stab into his mind, stomping on whatever pieces of his beating heart that remained alive.

“Let me fix this, Jisung, please.” Minho begs, his own tears leaking from his eyes.

“Why? So we can keep being toxic to each other? So we can keep lying to each other?”

“Because I love you too!” Minho’s words send Jisung to immediate silence. Jisung doesn’t move, staring into Minho as if he just admitted to killing someone. He’s falling pale, expression saddening by the second as he stands there, realizing now that Minho wasn’t the only one at fault here; he was too.

“It’s too late.” Jisung mutters, turning around and opening the drawers of the dresser, piling his clothes messily into his bag as Minho stands behind him and cries silently.

Jisung knew that he had broken Minho’s heart, but little did Minho know that this heartbreak was more painful than anything Jisung had experienced yet. He truly felt like he was falling for Minho, and nothing was worse than wanting someone so much and not being able to have them.

“I’m going to sleep in Chan’s room. Don’t follow me there. Please just give me the fucking space I asked for.” And with that, Jisung leaves. Minho doesn’t follow. Minho doesn’t even move.

He just stands there and cries, hoping, praying; waiting for Jisung to come back through the door.

Jisung never does.

Chapter Text

Three miserable weeks pass.

Minho went home with Chris the following morning, silent with his headphones in, trying to drown the heart ache with the soothing sensation of blasting music. Chris only ever bothered him to ask if he was hungry or needed anything before they got onto their plane, and Minho said no.

The moment he reached his apartment, he set his belongings down, greeted his cats with a tired expression, petting each of them before picking Dori up and holding him to his chest, muttering words of sadness into his fur. He knew his cats couldn’t understand him, but it somehow felt like they were the only ones who ever could understand.

Minho takes a leave of absence from his bartending job, only working a midnight shift on Mondays to keep himself occupied while looking for another job. Even though he and Jisung were never truly a thing per say, it felt like a break up nonetheless.

Jisung loved him. Minho loved him, too. But it wasn’t enough. Seungmin’s love for him wasn’t enough, either. Minho just assumes that he isn’t meant for love and is undeserving, spiraling him into depressive thoughts that would consume him for weeks at a time.

The end of fall was coming and winter was knocking at his door, leaving the apartment colder than normal. Minho didn’t mind the cold, sometimes he found it oddly comforting. Watching frost crawl on the edge of his windows as snow fell from hazy clouds, dusting the streets in a subtle blanket as cars carefully trek past with a lonely heart. Minho finds solace in gloomy weather, breathing in comforting air that only he seems to understand, wondering why most people hated colder weather to begin with.

Maybe that was just because he felt cold, too.

About a week ago, Minho applied for a job at a dance studio, using his degree as leverage to start as a teacher for a pre-teen class in hip-hop styled dance. His application was accepted the day of, and he started the following day, watching another instructor teach a class before attempting to teach his own, finally falling into the swing of things when he starts his own lessons and begins teaching a group of ten.

Minho didn’t necessarily hate his job as a bartender, but now that he had associated feelings with a specific break room and a specific person, he found himself too busy getting caught up in emotions, and he decided that he needed a break from the place that held too many memories.

He hasn’t heard from Jisung in the three weeks that followed their split, constantly thinking about the words that Jisung spewed at him in a moment of anger. Minho wasn’t sure if he actually meant the things he said or not, but he never bothered to reach out and ask.

It’s Tuesday now. It was cold and gloomy outside, met with flurries of falling snowflakes that melted on contact with the ground. The roads were wet and calm, a once busy streetlife simmering to a halt to avoid the cold. Minho is at the studio, eyes focused into his laptop as he plans his next session carefully, watching the studio video of their last practice from Thursday evening. He had been awake for an awfully long time at this point, working a near double on Monday to cover his sick co-workers shift, and to pick up the extra cash that he needed in spite of his sudden change in careers. He was running on pure willpower and caffeine, drinking down his second coffee of the morning nearly an hour before his class was due to show.

Minho continues to watch their practice, trying to figure out the next steps he wanted to teach to complete the routine they were working on until he decides that he’s simply too tired to be sitting on his ass, so he gets up and starts stretching.

He stares at himself in the mirror, adjusting the baseball cap that covered his messy hair to face backwards, finally getting a chance to really look at himself. He had dark circles around his eyes, bags drooping from the lack of sleep and pure exhaustion, face nearly pale, eyes that look deprived of life staring right back at him, wondering where his soul drifted off to.

He never wanted his life to end up here, which is partially the reason why he stopped hooking up with people. In some way, it felt comforting. All of his ties to Seungmin were finally burned, so he could attempt to free his mind of the suffocating guilt about his past.

He thinks about Jisung almost everyday. He tries not to, but fails every time.

Minho moves towards the computer in the corner of the studio, closing his laptop and selecting a few songs he knew to warm up to, letting the music consume him. He marks moves for the first song, carefully moving along with the music before really trying to put more effort into his choreography for the next song, mind becoming a near blank slate.

The songs were second nature to him, mind numbing at this point, but he didn’t care. He knew the moves and he knew the lyrics like the back of his hand, so it was almost a ritual to listen to the same three songs with nearly every practice.

The third song rings through the overhead speakers, and Minho calms his breathing, adjusting his cap before starting the moves to the next dance, hips rolling and arms swaying, locking his joints in tandem with the bass. He gets lost in the music, staring back at his reflection with some semblance of hope that the hate for himself will disappear eventually. But, he doesn’t bet on it.

He’s almost a little obsessive with the way he’s dancing, over correcting himself in his mind as he continues to flow with the music. He isn’t dancing perfectly by any means, but he was damn close.

A sudden knock on the studio door sends his mind crashing and stumbling, foot nearly slipping out from beneath him as he stumbles backwards. He over corrects, left foot stepping backwards to keep himself upright as it twists and sends a shooting pain up his nerves.

“Ah, shit–” Minho hisses, immediately falling to the floor on his knee, slowly tilting backwards to fall onto his ass, reaching his hands towards his aching ankle.

“Minho’ah?” A voice comes through when the studio door opens. It was his student.

“Practice isn’t for another half an hour, Minsoo, what are you doing here?” Minho tries to compose his tone, keeping his voice formal and low, trying to cover the pain surging through his body.

“I’m sorry. I came by to ask you something, but you look like you got hurt. Are you okay?”

Minho sighs. He wants to say I’m fine but he’s tired of lying. “No. I don’t know. When you knocked on the door it surprised me a bit, so I stumbled and twisted my ankle.”

“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“No, it’s alright Minsoo. I’ll call my friend. What was your question?”

“It’s really not that important. I can ask another time. Please get your ankle looked at!”

“I will, don’t worry about me.”

“Okay, I’ll see you at practice sometime then.” Minsoo waves to her teacher and leaves with the promise of knowing that Minho would take care of himself. Minho wasn’t one to lie anymore, so he does as he said he would and he calls Chris.

But Chris doesn’t answer.

Minho calls him seven times, and each time his call goes directly to voicemail. He knew Hyunjin would be at work right now, so it leaves him with one last option.

One he never thought he’d resort to.

Jisung had been staring at his computer monitors for nearly six hours. His eyes were red, mind hazy, lingering on the edge of pure exhaustion. He’s, once again, made zero progress on Want So Bad, leaving him nearing a state of clinging to whatever remained of his sanity. He’s worked on another track to distract himself, but nothing he produced compared to the level of Want So Bad. The melody, the tones, the overall sound of the track was something different, and he couldn’t convince himself to delete it.

The song reminds him of Minho everytime he thinks about it, everytime he hears it, and everytime he works on it. He hasn’t contacted him, eyes wandering to his phone every other hour just to check his messages for the pure sake of it, partially hoping to see Minho’s name cross his notifications. Of course, it never does, and Jisung gets disappointed every time.

He knows he ended things between them, but there’s a tinge of anger the moment he asks himself why Minho never bothered to reach out to try and patch things over. Was he not worth it? Was what they had not worth anything? They claim to love each other, but have been radio silent since their final night in Jeju.

Jisung also knows that he can reach out, and he’s thought about showing up at the bar he knew Minho worked at just to see him, but he deemed that idea as creepy. He wasn’t obsessive, just. . . a bit sad to be without the elder in his life.

He’s been lonely, he’ll admit it. But, Jisung refused to lay in bed all day, determined to release something just for a paycheck. He was able to scrape by for this month’s rent, but would have almost nothing left for next month. His complex manager had warned him two times before, stating that if he missed one more month of rent, he’d be kicked out. So, the pressure was on, to say the least, and Jisung was feeling it.

Between feelings that kept him awake at night, and paralyzing thoughts associated with the one song that would save his financial health, he really feels stuck. He can’t sleep, he overeats, he barely takes care of himself, and he has no motivation to do the only thing that keeps him afloat. Any other day, he would’ve called Minho. Talking to him just made the world go round, it made everything better, even if Jisung hated the way he felt just listening to his voice.

The ride home from Jeju was terrible. Jisung has spent an agonizing hour on the plane talking to Felix and Hyunjin about what had happened, reliving every single part of their night spent with one another that ended in their demise. Jisung explained his confession and how much he hated himself for letting the words leave his tongue, but Felix reassured him and said that ‘it was for the best that he knows.’

Jisung never quite understood why Felix had said that, wondering why dumping his feelings on the elder on the verge of their breakup was deemed ‘for the best’. It surely didn’t seem that way, especially when Minho said the words right back to him.

Jisung spent a lot of nights staring at his ceiling, thinking about Minho’s words and his expression, noting the heartbreak he held within his eyes. Jisung really broke him that night, if not that entire trip, swinging the elder around like a rotating door, unable to let him free to just breathe. Jisung knew he was being misleading and confusing, but he was confused himself.

They promised to keep feelings off of the table, to just engage in sex because they knew how compatible they were intimately, little did they know how compatible they were in every other aspect. Jisung liked being around Minho all the time, and now suddenly without him, Jisung is admittedly incredibly lonely. He talks to Felix almost everyday, asking about his relationship with Hyunjin, but it was barely enough to cover the void in his heart.

Seungmin hasn’t reached out to him either. He didn’t want to reach out, mainly because of how angry Seungmin was when they last spoke. If Seungmin wanted to be friends again, it would be on his terms, not Jisung’s.

But here he sits, leaning back into his desk chair, chewing on his bottom lip as he stares at his computer screens, wondering where to even start. He had to make progress on this song. He had to do something. But, then his phone rings.

His eyes cast down towards his desk, watching his phone screen illuminate with a name that makes his heart sink. It was Minho.

Jisung picks his phone up, hesitating, contemplating on letting the line ring, but his heart decides otherwise.

“Hello?”

“Hey. . . uhm, I’m sorry to bother you like this.”

“It’s alright.”

“I hurt myself at the studio today and Chan isn’t picking up his phone, so I didn’t know who else to call. Hyunjin is at work and I knew you’d be home, so I just figured I’d reach out to see if you can help me.”

“Minho–”

“God, I’m sorry. This is awful of me. We aren’t friends anymore, I know that. I know you hate me and resent what I did, so I’m sorry. I’ll just call my dad, don’t worry about it. You can ignore this entire thing.”

“Wait, hold on. Back up.”

“Okay. What?”

“First of all, you didn’t even let me answer before you started rambling. Secondly, you just told me that you’re hurt and by yourself, and you’re just gonna tell me to forget that I heard that?”

“Well, no, I just– I know we aren’t on good terms, so I don’t want to burden you.”

“Where are you at, Minho?”

“Jisung, I’m serious, you do not have to come here.”

“Text me the address. I’m coming now.”

“Jisung–”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Give me the address, hyung. I’m on the way.”

Jisung hangs up, not giving the elder a chance to argue further. He shuts his computer off, rushing to his closet to change his clothes before running into the bathroom to fix his hair and wash his face. His heart was racing, nearly beating out of his chest, simply because he was going to see Minho again.

He wasn’t sure if he should be excited or worried. Maybe a little of both, if anything.

Jisung leaves his apartment five minutes after the call ends, and Minho texts him the address. Jisung didn’t have a car, so he walked towards the studio as quickly as he could, hoping that Minho would just sit on his ass and wait for him. Jisung didn’t know what he hurt, or if he broke anything, but he didn’t care. He was anxious, hands in his pockets as they slightly trembled from the panic grazing over the surface of his mind.

But, as he reaches the studio, his hand hesitates at the door handle. He takes a breath, biting his tongue, swinging the door open and heading inside, searching through each studio until he reaches the room at the very back. The door is slightly ajar, just enough for Jisung to be able to peek inside without giving himself away. So he leans down slightly, gazing into the room until he spots Minho sitting on the floor, hands wrapped around his left ankle, head resting against his raised knee, phone thrown on the floor in front of him.

“Minho?” Jisung says quietly, trying not to scare him.

“You actually came, holy shit.” Minho’s head raises with a weak expression, and Jisung’s heart snaps in half. He looked like he was in pain, and Jisung almost recognized the same level of sadness that was in Minho’s face from three weeks ago.

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone when you’re hurt.”

“I know, but we aren’t friends or anything–”

“Stop it. Friends or not, I’m not gonna let you sit in here and suffer.”

“If you can just help me get to my car, I can drive myself to the hospital, I don’t need you to go with me.”

“You aren’t driving with an injured ankle, just let me help you, okay?”

“I’ll feel bad.” Jisung blinks at him twice, unsure of why Minho would even say that, but realization hits him harder than a brick. Minho obviously still felt guilty for everything that happened, which Jisung said ruined his life. Minho didn’t want to add to the stress in Jisung’s life anymore, feeling like a complete burden. Jisung never wanted that, and now he feels his own guilt pooling in his stomach.

“I still care about you.” Jisung blurts out. “Don’t feel bad. Please.”

Minho is silent for a moment, eyes watery, contemplating. “Help me up, please.”

“What did you hurt? Or what hurts? I just wanna know so I don’t hurt you.”

“It’s my left ankle, Ji. Everything else is fine.” Minho holds his arm out, hand extended, waiting for Jisung to take it. Jisung takes a breath and steps forward, grabbing Minho’s hand with his opposite hand, his other hand sinking to move between his arm and his side as he stands behind him.

“Ready?” Jisung asks. Minho nods. “One, two, three–”

Minho slowly rises upwards with Jisung’s help, wobbling slightly as he stands, keeping his injured ankle elevated slightly to not apply any pressure to it. Jisung holds onto him firmly, watching his every movement, ready to catch him at any point if he falls.

“You okay?” Jisung asks, hand dropping away from Minho’s side carefully.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My car keys are on the desk over there, and so is my laptop. Can you grab those really quick?”

“Are you gonna be okay for a second if I leave?”

“Yeah, I can balance myself for a second.” Minho reassures, not realizing how tightly Jisung was holding his hand. Minho sets the tip of his foot down, free arm slightly extended for the sake of balance, eyes casting down to look at their shared grasp. “Uhm, Jisung–”

“Sorry! Shit. Sorry.” Jisung’s hand timidly retreats, but Minho flashes a smile at him.

“It’s alright. Just hurry, please.”

“Right.” Jisung walks away after making sure Minho would be okay, treading towards the desk Minho had gestured to. He finds his keys and his closed laptop, grabbing a hold of both, shoving the car keys into his pocket and holding onto the laptop with a firm hand. Jisung approaches Minho again, leaning close, waiting for Minho to lean into him. Minho takes a breath, arm snaking behind Jisung’s back as he holds onto his side, feeling Jisung’s arm land over his shoulders, holding the side of his upper arm gently.

“Good?”

“Yeah, just go slow.”

“Where’s your car parked?”

“To the left side of the building. First parking spot. It’s a white Nissan.”

“Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop.” Jisung warns tenderly, beginning to take steps forward with Minho leaning into his side.

With careful steps that are paced incredibly slowly, Jisung and Minho finally make it outside of the studio. The sidewalk was thankfully vacant, leaving them all the time and space in the world to make it to the side lot. Minho was limping, using as much of his injured ankle as he could, wincing all the same. Jisung hated seeing Minho like this, especially under these circumstances, but he quietly vowed to himself to not leave until he could be sure that Minho would be okay.

Jisung finds Minho’s car and reaches into his pocket to grab Minho's keys. With the laptop still shoved under his arm, he unlocks the car, pressing the button twice, watching the headlights turn on as the battery hums to life.

“Here,” Jisung opens the passenger side door, watching Minho let go and carefully step closer to the car, getting inside slowly but without issue. Minho lets a long breath roll through his lungs, expressed relief coating his gaze as he settles further, looking up at Jisung.

“I’m okay.” Minho assures, and Jisung nods at him, starting to close the door before Minho grabs a hold of it and slams it shut himself. Jisung rounds the front of the car, opening the driver’s side door and settling inside, handing Minho’s laptop over once he was seated.

“Thank you for taking me Ji. You really didn’t have to do any of this.” Minho says quietly, listening and watching as Jisung starts the car’s engine, checking his mirrors tentatively.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Jisung mutters, eyes focusing on the side mirrors as he begins to back the car out of its parking spot. “It’s what friends are for, Minho.”

“Jisung–”

“I know. I know I said some stupid shit back in Jeju. I know, I just–” Jisung sighs, eyes facing back towards the windshield as he places the car into drive. “I’ve regretted it a whole bunch.”

Minho stays quiet, almost wordless at Jisung’s admittance. Jisung continues driving, words hesitating on the edge of his tongue as he safely drives away from the studio, struggling to continue speaking. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.”

Jisung glances at Minho for a second, watching as Minho’s gaze falls away. Jisung isn’t sure how to respond to that, focusing on the road as his mind draws a near-blank. Minho is quiet again, staring out of the car window, one hand holding his laptop against his lap protectively, swaying gently with each turn and bump the car moves with.

It’s an awkwardly silent ride to the hospital, but neither of them dare to break the silence.

Jisung pulls near the main doors of the hospital, parking the car and getting out, opening Minho’s door and holding his hand out, waiting for the elder to slowly try and step out.

Eventually, Minho gets out, holding onto Jisung tightly as he’s led into the hospital, making their way towards the reception desk. Minho answers the few questions the receptionist had and is handed a clipboard, fitted with paperwork and a pen. Jisung helps him walk to a chair and watches him fill out the papers with an unamused gaze.

Minho was in pain. Not an extreme amount of pain, but there was a clear level of uncomfort and soreness aching at his ankle that it slowly became unbearable. Jisung sits quietly next to him, phone kept tucked away, eyes observing Minho carefully. Jisung watches Minho sigh and grumble as he fills out the forms, annoyance held within his expression the more he writes.

“Hey, take a breath.” Jisung mutters, reaching his hand over to take the pen from Minho’s hand.

“Jisung, come on–”

“No, don’t get mad.” Jisung coos. “Just relax for a minute.”

“I just want to get the paperwork done.”

“I can tell that you’re in pain.” Jisung says quietly. “I just want you to take a second.”

Minho looks at Jisung, unamused, but he does as he’s told and he takes a long, relaxing breath. Jisung smiles at him, slowly reaching back over to place the pen back into Minho’s hand. “There you go. Was that so hard?”

“Stop it.” Minho scoffs, readjusting his grip on the pen before he continues to write.

No more words are shared for the rest of the time that they sit there, listening to ambient sounds of machines and quiet conversation fill the void, time ticking past as they wait. Jisung handed the paperwork in for Minho nearly twenty minutes ago, leaning back in their chairs with their eyes glued to their phones. But thankfully, not too soon after, Minho’s name is called and he’s taken to a private room to discuss with his doctor. Jisung stayed behind in the waiting room, nerves climbing up his spine as he sat, trying to distract himself until a nurse came walking out. Jisung’s gaze raises, watching the nurse wave at him. Jisung turns and looks around him, noticing how he was the only person sitting in that corner of the reception area, so he stands and follows the nurse towards the room. His heart is racing suddenly, steps leading him closer until the door is swung open before him, eyes immediately traveling to spot Minho sitting on the hospital bed.

The nurse urges Jisung inside and closes the door behind him, leaving the two males staring at each other awkwardly, silence buzzing in their ears. Jisung wants to say something, but Minho beats him to it.

“I’m sorry, I asked for them to bring you in here.”

“No, it’s okay. Sitting in there alone is kind of awkward anyway.” Jisung tries to laugh, and Minho flashes a smile at him, but it fades just as fast.

“Sprained my ankle pretty bad,” Minho pointed his hand down at it, sock bunched halfway up his foot. “They’re gonna wrap it for me but I didn’t want to be alone when they did it.”

“Minho–” Jisung frowns, taking a few steps forward to approach the bed.

“I know I sound pathetic and whatever. I just hate pain and I hate hospitals, so I’m a little on edge and I’m stressed out and–”

Jisung’s hand reaches over and lands on Minho’s thigh, bringing the elder to silence. Minho’s eyes slide up, timidly rising until he reaches Jisung’s shared gaze. Minho’s breath hitches, catching in the back of his throat, searching inside of the younger’s eyes for anything that would bring him back to the happy feeling he once had.

“Breathe.” Jisung mutters, and suddenly they’re inching closer. Minho’s lashes flutter, eyes blinking down to look at Jisung’s lips, wondering why they’re both leaning in simultaneously in a fucking hospital of all places. But the door swings open and Minho leans away, Jisung’s hand timidly leaving his thigh while Jisung clears his throat.

The doctor begins talking, mentioning painkillers he was sending Minho home with as well as instructions to properly heal his injury to get him back into the studio safely. Bedrest, followed by more bedrest, with even more bedrest was all Jisung could make out, too caught up in the idea of nearly kissing Minho again. Jisung knew they had to talk now, it was nearly inevitable, but this made it all that much more difficult to move on from what they had.

The doctor leaves and the nurse grabs a chair, asking for Minho to rest his calf against her leg so she could properly wrap his ankle for him. Jisung can feel the anxiety radiating off of him as the nurse starts to wrap his injury carefully, cautiously; and before Jisung can react, Minho was reaching for his hand.

The nurse is very gentle as she wraps Minho’s ankle, checking on him periodically throughout the process. Jisung let Minho squeeze their entangled hands as tightly as he wanted, keeping quiet and watching him dotingly, waiting until the nurse left to say anything.

“Did it really hurt that bad?” Jisung mutters, tugging Minho’s hold on his hand onto his lap.

“It did hurt a bit,” Minho sighs. “I’m sorry if I broke your hand or something. I was just nervous.”

“It’s okay.” Jisung softly laughs at him, feeling Minho try to retract his hand, but Jisung holds his hand firmer. “I like being able to comfort you. I missed you and I missed this. I’m sorry that I pushed all of it away.”

“It’s okay, Ji. Let’s. . . uhm, talk about this another time. I think there’s too much for us to unpack here in this creepy hospital room.”

“Right.” Jisung’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Minho doesn’t notice. “Think you can walk out to the car, or do you need me to wheel you out?”

“Please do not put me in that fucking chair. That was embarrassing.”

“Okay, okay.” Jisung laughs. “I won’t. Just hold onto me again.”

Eventually, Minho and Jisung make their way back out of the hospital from where they came, slowly limping towards the car, then settling inside to drive towards Minho’s apartment. Jisung is adamant on helping Minho get to his apartment, even though Minho really doesn’t want to burden him anymore, so Jisung does it anyway.

Minho unlocks his door, swinging it open, almost immediately greeted by a trio of furry paws and mews. Jisung carefully leads the elder towards his couch, closing the door behind them, shuffling around the purring cats with quiet giggles as they react excitedly to their owner coming home.

“Do you need me to get you anything before I go?” Jisung asks quietly, making sure Minho was settled into the couch comfortably.

“Can we–” Minho avoids his gaze. “Can we talk about Jeju?”

“I mean. . . that’s a lot of wounds to reopen.”

“Can’t hurt more than my ankle does right now.”

“I don’t want to fight about it anymore,” Jisung swallows. “I don’t want to dig a bigger ditch between us. Seeing you like this hurts me, and all I want is to be able to be there for you right now.”

“I don’t want to argue with you either.”

“Then can we, just. . . not talk about it?” Jisung pinches his brows together, head slightly tilted. “I don’t think I’m ready to relive it yet.”

“That’s okay.” Minho assures, leaning back into the couch with a subtle heavy breath.

“Do you need anything though? I can stay for a little bit, order you some food, we can watch a movie–” Jisung offers, watching Minho’s gaze avoid him. “Only if you want me to. Just tell me what you want.”

“I–” Minho glances at his hands, swallowing his pride and turning to look at Jisung with a subtle fear lingering in his gaze. “I want you to stay.”

Jisung starts to say something else, but gets interrupted by Minho almost immediately. “I want to be selfish and ask for you to stay here. I don’t think I’m going to be able to get around by myself, and with the cats to take care of and what not, I just– I’m worried I’ll only hurt myself again.”

“Minho. . . I don’t know–”

“I know it’s stupid. I know there’s tension between us because of what happened, but you wanted to be selfish in Jeju three weeks ago that night. . . so please let me be selfish too in asking this.” Minho’s eyes never leave Jisung, fear replaced by silent pleading. “Please stay here.”

Jisung is quiet, eyes watching Minho tender heartedly, thinking back to their night in Jeju. He was wrong, he knew he was. He’s already spent an agonizing amount of time thinking of what he should’ve said or should’ve done differently, and nearly every night he comes to the conclusion that he regrets the entire trip.

He hates that he loves him. He never stopped loving him, even in their time apart. Jisung knows Minho’s heart is reaching out to him right now, seeing the tortured pain within his gaze as they stare at each other. Minho once mentioned that tortured souls can see each other, and Jisung finally sees what he was talking about.

They were both broken people, waiting for someone to reach out and try to fix them. Jisung never wanted another partner in his life, especially after how terrible his ex was, but Minho felt right. He’s never felt wrong in being with Minho, regardless of what label they had.

Jisung had spent several nights thinking about their trip to the aquarium, wondering why Minho took him and him only, though he could only ever think of one sure answer. Minho had claimed that he ‘wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else’ , but Jisung now knows that it was simply because he was falling in love with him. He wouldn’t have wanted to go with anyone else, either.

Jisung knew he had to repair his friendship with Seungmin first before even attempting to repair whatever was going on with Minho, but as Minho sits and looks at him, dejected and pleading, Jisung finds it hard to deny him. They didn’t have to talk about their issues, they hardly had to talk at all, but Minho needed him. Regardless, Jisung was never one to deny Minho in the first place.

“Okay.” Jisung swallows with a quiet, nervous breath. “I’ll stay.”

“You mean it?” Minho blinks his eyes wider, almost as if he was expecting a different answer. “You really don’t have to, I just–”

“Minho,” Jisung smiles at him. “You’re rambling again.”

“Oh,” Minho looks down, laughing quietly at himself. “I do that when I’m nervous, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jisung takes a few steps closer to the couch, pointing towards the television. “Wanna watch that anime we never finished?”

“Yeah.” Minho glances up in time to flash a smile at him, a deep breath rolling through his lungs as he leans backwards, pressing into the couch carefully, face flushed with relief.

Minho was hopeful. This was the most they had talked in three long weeks, and Minho was appreciative that Jisung agreed in the first place. Minho knows that he has to tread carefully, pacing his actions slowly if he ever expects to repair what they lost.

As Jisung sits down on the couch next to him, Minho notices the space he purposely put between them on the couch. Minho isn’t completely sure if the space will ever be voided, but something rooted deep within him hopes that he can cross the distance to be close to him again.

They just needed time, and now with Jisung staying, that’s all they had.

Chapter Text

Wednesday

Beams of sunlight cascade into the apartment, lingering between parted curtains to dapple the floor and nearby furniture in shades of orange. Minho’s eyes blink awake, dazed and confused, wondering why the hell he was sleeping on the couch. A shooting ache in his ankle sends a painful reminder as to why, eyes tiredly gazing down to see his swollen ankle rested on a pillow at the opposite end of the couch. He lays his head back down, hands rubbing over his eyes as he yawns, turning to look for his phone that he finds discarded on the table nearby. The coffee table itself was scooted closer than normal, but considering his injury, it made sense.

Though, the shooting ache in his lower back was new and incredibly uncomfortable.

“You’re awake.” A voice nearly startles Minho out of his thoughts, eyes shooting towards the kitchen as he sits upright just barely, elbows holding himself up.

“Christ, Jisung.” Minho breathes. “Give me a warning next time.”

“Sorry.” Jisung laughs tenderly, holding a plate in his hands. “I was up early, so I made us breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, doctor’s orders. You’ve gotta eat with your meds. So, it’s the least I can do.”

Minho nods, hand reaching to grab onto the plate that is held out for him. “Thank you.”

“It’s just eggs and toast. Nothing special. I wasn’t sure how picky you were about your breakfast choices.”

“Food is food in my eyes.” Minho examines the plate as he sits upright further, stomach growling hungrily. “This’ll do.”

“Okay,” Jisung laughs again, turning away to go back into the kitchen. “By the way–”

Jisung comes back, his own plate in his hands. “What d’you feed the cats in the morning? Just dry food?”

“Oh shit, did Soonie wake you?”

“No, no–”

“Oh thank god.”

“Dori did.”

“Jesus.” Minho rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m just happy that they’re all warming up to me.”

“Dry food is fine. They can have wet food at breakfast or dinner, they won’t protest your decision.”

“Okay, because I just filled their bowls with dry. Dori must’ve been hungry because he was chowing down.”

“Dori will eat anything you give him.” Minho scoffs. “He’s like a dog.”

“How’s your ankle this morning, though? Feel any better or does it feel worse?”

“The same, I think. I don’t really remember much from yesterday. Hell, I didn’t even remember sleeping on the couch.”

Jisung scoffs at him. “Yeah, your meds knocked you on your ass last night. One second we were eating dinner and watching anime, the next you were passed out on your end of the couch.”

“God, I’m sorry.” Minho smiles, cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. “I’m acting like such a baby over this.”

“It’s alright. But, you didn’t have to go and hurt yourself to talk to me again, hyung. You could’ve just said that ya missed me.”

“Yeah right.” Minho takes a bite of his eggs. “You really would’ve picked up a phone call from me?”

“Well, I mean. . . I did, didn’t I?”

“No, well–” Minho tilts his head, eyes looking up at Jisung. “Considering the circumstances, if I wanted to talk to you or wanted to hang out, what would you have said?”

“I don’t know.” Jisung shrugs. “Too many what ifs for me to want to answer that.”

“Well, my case and point then.”

“I am happy that you called me.” Jisung mumbles after taking a bite of his toast. “Even if I was your last choice.”

Minho’s heart seizes in his chest. The comment hurt, but he’s not completely sure if Jisung meant it that way. Minho stares down at his plate, contemplating on if he should respond to that or not, and without thinking, but also in a moment of weakness, he lets the words tumble from his lips. “You were never my last choice.”

Jisung hesitates on getting more eggs, eyes looking down at Minho for a second, biting his bottom lip and letting go just as fast, hiding the smile that was pulling at his lips.

Jisung washes their dishes and helps Minho adjust the way he was sitting on the couch, setting a pillow onto the coffee table so he could rest upright against the back of the sofa, ankle elevated in front of him. Jisung plops down and turns on their anime, briefly discussing what Minho had missed the night before as he presses resume. They don’t discuss their feelings any further.

Evening crawls into the apartment, cascading moonlight through the windows as Minho scrolls on his phone, waiting for Jisung to return. He had left twenty minutes ago to go to his apartment as he agreed to stay with Minho until the elder could at least get around on his own safely. Minho knew it was just to help out with the cats more than anything, but he couldn’t help but be selfish in hoping that they’d get to discuss Jeju to find mutual ground.

He felt bad. Incredibly bad. All he wanted to do was fix their relationship and start to rebuild what they had. Jisung just being here and taking care of him made his heart stutter as it was, but the thought of being so close and not being able to touch him made it that much worse. He felt like he was back to where he was, unable to have someone he wanted so badly.

He didn’t care about what Jisung said that day. He just wanted him so selfishly and completely, forgiving every awful spit of words Jisung most likely didn’t mean.

“Minho’ah!” Jisung closes the front door behind him, carrying a pizza box and a duffel bag stuffed with clothes and toiletries. “Are you alive in there?”

“Unfortunately.” Minho almost yells back, setting down his phone as he turns his attention towards the hall, watching Jisung emerge with a cheesy grin on his face.

“I got us food.” He hums, carefully handing the box over that Minho wastes little time in accepting. “Sorry it took so long. I was trying to upload the song files to my laptop so I could work on them here if I couldn’t sleep.”

“You should show me that song you’re stuck on.” Minho mutters quietly and Jisung’s eyes widen, out of sight from Minho’s gaze.

“One day. But not now.”

“Sure, Jisung’ah. Go put down your stuff. We’re almost done with season two, and I wanna know what happens in the finale.”

“You’re gonna hate it!” Jisung says as he walks away towards the bedroom, almost immediately returning with a hand sifting through his hair.

“Don’t tell me I’m gonna hate it. It’s like you’re setting me up for failure.”

“At least we have two more seasons to enjoy.” Jisung shrugs, plopping down on the couch next to Minho, with a few inches to spare. Minho slides the box over to rest between them, gently balancing on shared thighs.

“Have you watched it all the way through?”

“Only half of season four. The other half will be new to me.”

“Ah, so we can suffer together?”

“Mhm.” Jisung takes a bite of his pizza, reaching for the discarded remote.

“How domestic.”

“Stop it.” Jisung scoffs, turning the anime back on after a few seconds of scrolling.

They devour the pizza within thirty minutes, watching nearly seven more episodes before Minho decides he’s too tired to stay awake. He takes his medicine again, Jisung helping adjust the way he was laying so he could fully rest on the length of the couch before his eyes lull shut. Jisung turns the television off for him, cleaning up their pizza box, and laying a soft blanket over Minho’s relaxed body, biting back the urge to brush the hair out of his eyes.

Thursday

Minho wakes with a stronger ache in his back. Between his ankle and his back, it was growing unbearable. Jisung was already helping out enough as it was, leaving Minho to decide to keep sleeping on his couch, hoping that Jisung could get adequate rest in his bed since the younger found it hard to sleep as it was.

“G’morning.” Jisung surprises him again, and Minho’s sudden full body jolt sends Jisung into a tired, laughing mess.

“Rude, Jisung.” Minho’s voice is strained and tired, eyes blinking closed as he adjusted back to reality.

“Hungry?” Minho sighs at the question, feeling the lingering ache in his limbs grow stronger the longer he’s awake.

“No.” Minho opens his eyes again, watching Jisung walk towards the couch with worry in his eyes.

“Why not?”

“I’m in pain, Jisung.” Minho grabs his blanket and tugs it closer, pulling it over his face. “It’s not how I like to start my mornings. Plus, I think I’m a bit nauseous.”

“Oh.” Jisung frowns.

“I think that was the worst night of sleep I’ve had.”

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Just my meds. And something to take with it, I guess. I just wanna try to sleep this ache off.”

“Fair enough,” Jisung sighs, padding away into the kitchen.

Minho lays there, eyes staring into the ceiling once he pulls the blanket away. He listens to Jisung mess about in the kitchen, arm hanging loosely off of the couch as he lazily lays there, wondering why his life ended up here of all places. He was being taken care of by his ex of sorts, and he can’t find it within himself to hate it.

“Here.” Jisung reapproaches, a small plate in hand. “Toast is easy on the stomach. But you’ve gotta eat probably half of it just for the sake of your meds.”

“Thank you Nurse Jisung.” Minho says quietly, and Jisung laughs at him.

“Yeah, yeah. You gonna be okay for a bit if I take a shower?”

“I’m literally gonna eat this and try to go back to sleep.”

“Just holler if you need me, then.” Jisung turns on his heel and leaves, strolling away out of sight. Minho groans as he slightly rolls over, the ache in his back ever present. He reaches for the plate, pill in hand, tossing it back while shoveling a piece of toast into his mouth, hoping to free himself of the aches in his body.

Forty minutes later, Jisung reenters the living space with new clothing and damp hair, peeking over to the couch as he spots Minho lying on his back still, phone in his hands as he watches TikTok.

“Did you sleep?”

“No.” Minho lowers his phone and nearly chokes on his breath at the sight of Jisung, immediately feeling his face burn. Jisung was wearing a slightly baggy gray tee and black joggers, hair curled and damp, light bouncing off of it freely. Minho brings his phone back in front of his face, trying to hide his expression of how flushed and caught off guard he was by Jisung’s extremely attractive appearance. Jisung really didn’t even have to try and Minho was a flustered mess.

“D’you want me to leave you alone? I can go try and work for a little bit.”

“Yeah.” Minho nods quickly, simply just wanting to avoid breathing in the same space as someone who looked the way Jisung did right now. “Meds are kicking in so I’m feeling groggy.”

“Okay.” Jisung hums. “I’ll just be in your room. Let me know if you need me.”

Minho breathes a sigh of relief when Jisung leaves, trying to ignore the sudden tinge of interest growing in his joggers. He places his phone down and closes his eyes, swallowing the memories of his night with Jisung three weeks ago, hoping that this sinking feeling would fall with the setting of the sun.

Friday

Minho wakes with an extreme ache in his back. He audibly groans, sitting up right, hands immediately retreating to massage the area that hurt. His muscles were incredibly tense and sore, probably from barely leaving the couch and sleeping on it for three nights in a row. His couch wasn’t uncomfortable, but it definitely wasn’t meant to be slept on. He spent weeks agonizing himself to just bite the bullet and get a bed for the empty guest room within his apartment, especially for situations like this, yet here he was, annoyed with himself and sleeping on his stiff couch. He would endure the discomfort so Jisung didn’t have to, all because he cared more about him rather than himself.

“Hyung?” Jisung’s tired voice breaks the elder from his thoughts, brows pinched together as his hands continue to try and soothe his aching lower back. “Are you okay?”

“My back just hurts, Ji. I’m fine.”

“Well, if your back hurts, we can switch spots. You don’t have to sleep out here. This is your apartment, afterall.”

“No, you’re the guest in my home. I can deal with it, I just need to stretch, I think.”

“Do you need help?”

“Uhm.” Minho’s hands leave his back and his expression relaxes, looking towards Jisung with a softer, more confused gaze. “I-I think I’m alright, Ji. You look tired, though. You should get more sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine.” Minho assures, watching Jisung linger for a minute before leaving and heading back to bed. Minho carefully moves himself around, reaching for his water bottle that he left on the table ahead of him. His mind is incredibly dizzying right now, but he chooses to ignore it again, taking a long drink of water before leaning into the couch with a deep sigh.

He sits like this for another thirty minutes, pondering certain life decisions and wondering if any of this was worth it. The ache that grew in his back screamed that it didn’t, but his heart would argue otherwise.

Minho just knew that it was going to be a long day.

Saturday

Jisung helps Minho take a shower. Well, more so watches Minho take a shower.

Minho wore swim trunks, just to be safe, leaning against the wall of his shower the best he could. Thankfully, his shower head was detachable, so it made the entire process that much easier. Jisung was basically there only to make sure Minho didn’t fall, sitting on the bathroom countertop with his legs swinging, watching Minho carefully.

Minho isn’t sure as to why he’s so embarrassed about this entire situation, given how many times Jisung has seen him fully naked, but there’s a certain vulnerability to this that he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Can you get me a towel?” Minho asks, shutting the water off. “They’re in the cabinet behind the door.”

“Yeah,” Jisung hops off of the counter, closing the open bathroom door for a second to peek into the thin linen cabinet, grabbing a gray towel from one of the shelves. “Here.”

Minho takes the towel while muttering thank you, immediately pressing the towel to his face to dry it. Jisung watches carefully still, waiting until Minho said he needed him to move back outside.

Minho dries his hair to the best of his abilities, wrapping the towel around his waist afterwards, reaching a hand out. “Help me? Please?”

“Okay, c’mere.” Jisung carefully helps Minho out of the shower, helping dry off his legs and lead him back into his bedroom, where Jisung grabs him clean clothes and continues to help him as needed. Minho was feeling a bit better at this point, lightly balancing on his injured ankle more than before. Minho was doing the best he could, but still found it difficult to function properly. Jisung, thankfully, was doing most of the cooking and cleaning around the house, trying to keep the place tidy enough since he knew Minho couldn’t stand clutter, while also taking care of his cats (to which he would never complain about, anyway).

But, today felt different. Jisung was warmer than usual, more doting, and Minho couldn’t help but notice.

He finds himself back on the couch, adjusting his sitting position as he leans back to raise his ankle to its designated pillow, a fresh hoodie clinging to his clean skin warmly. Jisung was to his right, eyes glued to his laptop, typing away at something Minho barely paid attention to.

They had spent a lot of time together because of this situation, but the weirdest part of it all was how comfortable it was at times. They didn’t talk about Jeju, keeping things platonic and worryless, watching anime and eating take out for dinner every day. 

The distance between them was closer on the couch now, barely half an arm’s length away, but Minho still wishes to be closer. Jisung didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed more open than normal. Minho just isn’t sure when to bring up what they’ve been avoiding for weeks, let alone ruin whatever this was that they had going on.

It was late. They had already eaten dinner and were just quietly sitting next to one another without another care in the world. Minho was watching some sort of cooking show while Jisung worked quietly, phone on his lap as he waited for a text back from Chris.

The elder felt horrible about not answering his phone when Minho needed him days ago, so he was trying to offer his help if Minho needed it, but Minho was too busy at keeping Chris out of his apartment so that he didn’t find out about Jisung. From what Minho knew, Chris and Seungmin had been spending a lot of time together as of late, and he didn’t want Seungmin to know about Jisung staying with him, especially if the two were still on bad terms.

Bang Chan

Seriously, Minho. I feel bad. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?

There isn’t anything I need, Channie. It’s okay.

I’m being looked after and I’m feeling a bit better, so don’t worry.

Bang Chan

But who’s looking after you??

Besides Hyunjin and myself, you don’t really talk to anyone else.

My dad stops by.

Bang Chan

I thought you guys didn’t talk that much anymore.

Considering what he did, anyway.

Minho huffs audibly, brushing a hand through his hair. He hated how annoyingly perceptive Chris could be at times, which made it hard for Minho to hide anything from him. He really was tired of lying, and he didn’t want to hide anything from him purposely, but with everything that had happened and with Jisung currently a foot away from him, he decided to wait until he could smooth one thing out at a time.

Even though my dad is a douche, he’s still my dad. I got hurt and he’s taking care of me.

Minho bites his cheek, lingering on emotions he had long forgotten about. His father wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, given how cold and stern he could be. Minho had gotten into plenty of arguments with him before, he’s just surprised that the whole apartment arrangement stayed in fairly calm waters.

Bang Chan

I don’t like the dude. You know that. I understand he’s your dad, but I just worry about you. You’re basically my little brother at times, Minho.

I know, Channie. He’s not great. But he’s trying.

Minho wishes that was the truth, though it couldn’t be farther from it. His father didn’t care about him in the way that he’s implying, nor did he care if Minho was hurt or not. Honestly, his dad was the last person he’d call, even if he was on his deathbed.

Bang Chan

Well, please let me know if there’s anything I can do. You know I don’t live too far away.

I know, hyung. Don’t worry, though. I’m plenty okay.

“Why’re you staring at your phone like that?” Jisung asks calmly, resting his headphones on the back of his neck.

“Oh, uh–” Minho shrugs. “Texting Chan. He just worries a lot.”

“I mean, you kind of looked annoyed though.”

“Only because he’s really insistent on coming over here.” Minho shuts his phone off, setting it face down on his lap. “I didn’t want him to come by and see you here, y’know? It would bring a lot of questions that I don’t know if either of us are ready to answer.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good, would it?”

“No. I know you don’t really want to talk about it right now, but we have to eventually.”

“Do we?” Jisung’s head tilts back to meet the couch, expression slightly pouting. Minho smiles at him and looks away, ignoring the fluttering in his chest.

“Yeah. We do.” Minho says lightly, eyes glancing away to look at his elevated ankle. This was such a weird predicament to be in, and he can’t admit that he slightly liked it.

“I think. . . we can talk about part of it.” Jisung says softly, matching Minho’s calm tone. “There’s parts of it I don’t want to dig up yet, though.”

“That’s fine. I’ll follow your lead. But promise me that we’re just gonna talk. We aren’t gonna argue.”

“Promise.” Jisung smiles, raising his head again. He almost fumbles at closing his laptop, carefully removing his headphones from his neck before moving to rest his equipment on the coffee table, settling back into his seat with a breath. Minho watches him and waits patiently, pushing his phone away as it buzzes again.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I want to talk about Seungmin a little bit.” Jisung begins, shifting his body to turn towards Minho. “I just wanna know where your head was at with the coffee shop thing and what the intention was there.”

“Well,” Minho sighs, thinking back, eyes glancing down. “I confided in Chris for a while, because I felt really torn up about us. I was struggling to place my feelings into a label, mainly because I was scared to admit it, but he told me that the first step into accepting what I was feeling was to get rid of any final baggage I had with Seungmin. So, I called him and he agreed to meet me. I initially just wanted to let Seungmin know that he needed to let whatever we had go. There was no reviving it and there was nothing he could do, nor nothing I could do, to fix what happened. I was an idiot, and I told him that. I apologized and begged for him to move on from it.”

“I just didn’t like that neither of you told me. But, then again, I find myself wondering if it was my place to know any of that to begin with. At first, when I saw you two, I was worried that I was getting into the middle of you two, and I thought that you were cheating on him with me. But, thinking back, I remember Seungmin avoiding you so many times.”

“He really didn’t tell you that he and I dated for years?”

“No. That’s why all of it was so shocking to me. I didn’t think it was that serious, especially with him not saying anything to me or Felix, so that’s why I wanted to keep seeing you. Then when he got so mad at me for that, it just didn’t make any sense to me. That’s why I was so upset at him.”

“Chan thinks that he still had lingering feelings for me. What Seungmin and I had was unresolved for a long, long time. He asked me if I still harbored anything for him, and I said no. I felt bad saying it, but it was the truth. There was no point in lying to him about any of it.”

“I kind of agree with Chan, though. The night that you and I met, he purposely walked away from the bar when he saw you. But, Felix and I never thought anything of it because Seungmin can be just odd at times. Then at the club, he was gone most of the time that you and I were around, and in Jeju, he just wouldn’t talk to you and would hardly look at you. . . God, it all makes sense now.”

“That still throws me off as to why he wouldn’t say anything. But to answer your question, I just wanted to clear any leftover baggage so there was nothing attached to me. I–. . . honestly, all I really wanted was to just pursue you. I didn’t want any of that to follow me, because the past was the past. I just wanted you, Jisung. That’s all my intent was.”

“God–” Jisung looks away, leaning with his back pressed against the couch, slightly slouched. “This would’ve been so much easier if I would’ve just asked.”

“It’s funny how communication works, Jisung.” Minho laughs at him lightly, feeling at least an ounce of pressure release from his chest. It felt good to be fully honest, and to see Jisung’s reaction to it made it even better. He knows now that if he wants Jisung to be honest, he has to be too. There was no more hiding from this.

“I’m sorry that I insinuated that you two were getting back together.” Jisung sighs, hand rushing to mess with his hair nervously. “I feel like a fucking idiot. I’ve been really blind this entire time.”

“You and I both.”

“No but– god. The things I said? What I did to you Minho? It wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t have said those things. Mainly because I didn’t mean a word of them. I was scared and just afraid of the consequences of my actions that I sure as hell inflicted on myself. I thought that pushing you away would just leave me to pick up the pieces by myself, and usually when I tend to do that I can heal in the process. There’s no one left to hurt when you’re alone. But. . . I regretted it. Everyday I woke up feeling worse. There was this emptiness lingering in me and I couldn’t get rid of it.”

“I was afraid that you hated me.” Minho’s voice is a near mumble, eyes casted down at his hands that were messing with one another, chest tight with the truth bleeding from his veins. “I didn’t reach out to you because I was scared that you’d tell me to fuck off or that you’d block my number. I didn’t want to lose all of you. I couldn’t.”

“Minho–”

“I wanted to hope that you didn’t block my number or didn’t erase it, or whatever. It felt like the only thing I had left of you. By texting you, I could’ve lost that.”

“I wouldn’t have done that.” Jisung replies back softly, gaze stuck on Minho fondly. “Never. No matter how mad I am at you, Lee Minho, I don’t think I’m meant to live a life without you in it.”

“You’re just saying that.” Minho scoffs.

“I’m serious.” Jisung watches Minho’s gaze rise to his own, trapping his eyes with his. “Even if we’ve only known each other for a little while, and have only experienced a fraction of what we could have with each other, I don’t think there’s anyone else I want that with right now. Friends or not.”

Wait. “Jisung, I’m confused–” Friends? Or Not?

“Too much?” Jisung laughs quietly, biting his tongue. “There’s more to talk about Minho, but I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s late and I need some time to think about it. Maybe we can talk tomorrow?”

“If that’s what you want.” Minho nods, embracing the fact that this conversation wasn’t over, just pausing for now. The conversation was light, but rapidly deepened as feelings poured out of them, ones that both males had long ignored and were longing to feel again. But it was too much, too fast; something they’d both have to come to terms with a little bit at a time in order to properly heal.

Neither of them knew what their future held with unknown confessions and possible unrequited feelings hanging over the edge, so they held onto a quiet hope together, praying for the same wordless outcome where they’d end up together again. For now, Minho takes what he can get, and decides against being selfish.

“I think I’m too tired to talk anymore, anyway. But we got somewhere. I definitely feel a bit better, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Minho breathes. “I just missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Jisung reaches his hand across their shared distance timidly, slowly landing on Minho’s thigh for a second, hesitating; about to pull away just as fast. Minho stares at his hand, swallowing the urge to grab his hand with his own, watching as Jisung’s hand retracts. “Do you need anything before I go to bed?”

“No, I’m okay. I’m gonna finish watching this and go to bed.”

“Okay. You know the drill by now,” Jisung smiles at him, grabbing his laptop and headphones. “Holler if you need me.”

“Sure thing.” Minho smiles back at him as he leaves, heart leaving with him. He can’t help but admit how empty he feels, wondering if Jisung wanted the same things he did. But, it would have to wait until Jisung was ready to dig deeper.

Sunday

The day comes and goes. Minho’s back still hurts, but he swallows the pain and takes his meds, waiting for them to kick in impatiently. Jisung made them breakfast again, but Minho wasn’t complaining, scarfing down the entire meal without thought.

Now, later in the evening, he’s settled next to Jisung again, watching the same cooking show, but on a different season. Jisung was still working, as he had been for the last two hours without a break. He’s listened to Jisung hum and huff a few times as he worked, mostly remaining focused and expressionless at times, but now he just looked upset. Minho couldn’t help but look at the younger, confused as to why his brows were furrowed and his lips were frowning. He reaches his hand over, poking the younger in the shoulder a few times, watching Jisung’s eyes snap away from his laptop and towards him worriedly.

“Oh god,” he says, pulling his headphones off of his head. “Did you say something and I didn’t hear you? Do you need something?”

“No, Ji. I’m fine. You just look stressed.”

“It’s the song again.” Jisung groans quietly, resting his headphones against the back of his neck. “It’s just frustrating me right now and I’m getting a little pissed about it.”

“Take a break.” Minho suggests, catching a glimpse of interest from Jisung’s gaze. “Watch the show with me. It’s actually interesting, I promise. They’re about to do a bake-off.”

“That sounds so suburban mom of you, Minho.” Jisung laughs quietly, hand hesitating as it reaches towards the top of his laptop. “But sure. Fine.”

Minho smiles at him for a moment before realizing how truly tired Jisung looked. Beyond all the frustration and stress was another layer of exhaustion. He didn’t realize that Jisung was likely not sleeping, too busy and too caught up in taking care of him or working on his music, completely lacking in taking care of himself. “Jisung?”

“Hm? What?” The younger sets down his equipment on the table, leaning back towards the couch.

“Have you been sleeping?”

Jisung sighs. Minho could’ve guessed his answer from that alone. “No. Not really.”

“You should rest then.”

“I don’t wanna leave you alone, though. It’s not that late.”

“Then c’mere.” Minho offers, watching Jisung silently contemplate, eyes flicking between Minho’s lap and his eyes, unsure of how to proceed. “It’s alright, Jisung. Just c’mon.”

“Fuck it.” Jisung mutters under his breath, turning slightly, leaning back carefully until his head collides with Minho’s lap. Minho’s arm rests on the top of the couch cushions, struggling to remain there, wanting nothing more than to move the hair out of Jisung’s eyes as he gets comfortable. Minho’s other hand gently grabbed the edge of the cushion he was sitting on out of Jisung’s view, struggling to remain platonic about any of this.

“I won’t be offended if you fall asleep, so like–” Minho glances down. “Actually try to sleep, okay?”

“I’ll try.” Jisung says, turning his attention towards the television.

It’s quiet for a half hour, watching the cooking show with little interruption. Jisung was still awake, slightly shifting every now and then, breaths slowing down the longer he laid there. Minho was worried that he was uncomfortable, but part of him would’ve hoped that Jisung would’ve just offered to go to bed if that was the case, because here he was, lying comfortably against him without protest.

“Minho?” Oh god.

“Hm?” He’s gonna get up. He’s gonna say he’s uncomfortable. This was a bad idea–

“I always slept better when you, uhm–” Jisung turns slightly, arm reaching for Minho’s arm that rested above him on the cushions. “When you were holding me. Is it too much for you if you just lay your arm here?”

Jisung points to his side and stomach area, hand hesitating as he reaches for Minho’s wrist. Minho doesn’t flinch and doesn’t protest when Jisung touches him, moving down at Jisung’s pace, gliding down until his arm rests against Jisung’s side, gently falling over his stomach. Jisung’s skin twitches lightly, but he makes no move to push Minho’s arm a certain way as it rests there. Jisung’s hand was only a few inches away, pinky just barely touching Minho’s thumb.

“Better?” Minho asks lightly, breath hitching in his throat the minute he feels Jisung’s hand creep over, tucking beneath his. Minho’s eyes darted towards the sudden movement, watching carefully, hand tensing with every fleeting nudge. Minho’s fingers spread subtly and Jisung’s slide up and through the spaces, capturing Minho’s hand carefully, gently; leaving the chance for Minho’s hand to retreat. Minho settles, hand relaxing, fingers gently accepting the hold on them, resting on top of Jisung’s lightly.

“Yeah.” Jisung says quietly. “I’m better, now.”

Monday

“Jisung’ah!” Minho shouts.

Jisung comes sprinting from the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from the side of his mouth, clothes wrinkled and hair a mess. He looked worried, and Minho couldn't help but chuckle.

“Look!” Minho points down, standing up from the couch, his injured ankle half-set down with very little applied pressure. His hand was leaning behind him on the arm of the couch for the sake of supporting his body weight, but this was progress, and the most progress either of them had seen in a few days.

“Holy shit.” Jisung removed the toothbrush from his mouth, holding it in his hand with his eyes wide. “God, hold on a second–”

Minho laughs as Jisung runs off again, only just barely able to hear him spit into the sink, turning on the faucet a second later. Minho bites back the joke sitting on the edge of his tongue, deeming the timing inappropriate.

“That’s impressive, hyung! Now walk yourself to the bathroom!” Jisung yells, and Minho rolls his eyes.

“We aren’t there yet! Stop being greedy and come help me!” Jisung re-emerges seconds later, toothbrush gone and mouth clean, approaching Minho with a slight flush to his cheeks. He was probably embarrassed, yet Minho couldn’t help but take notice.

“Set the pace,” Jisung mentions, sliding under Minho’s extended arm, slinging his left arm behind Minho’s back. “I’ll follow you this time.”

“Oh, what? You’re not gonna carry me?”

“God no.” Jisung laughs. “You’re too heavy for that.”

“You calling me fat?” Minho deadpans and Jisung cackles.

“What the fuck? No! You have too much muscle mass and you’re taller than me. I wouldn’t be able to carry you if I tried.”

“We’re definitely trying that when my ankle heals.”

“No we are not.” Jisung seems insistent, but Minho rolls his eyes as they start walking slowly to the bathroom. “Not when you find a new ache in your body every day.”

Jisung and Minho had fallen asleep together on the couch last night by accident. Jisung woke in the middle of the night and at some point, he moved into the bedroom. Apparently, Minho woke in a groggy state and Jisung helped him lay down at least a little bit, but Minho doesn’t remember any of this. All he knows is that he woke up alone, half-covered by a blanket with his neck stiff and sore. If it wasn’t his back today, it was his fucking neck. Go figure.

“I could carry you.” Minho says quietly. “Actually, I have carried you.”

“You definitely have before.” Jisung’s face flushes at the memory, but Minho is unable to see it.

“Does your ankle hurt?”

“Nope.” Minho says as they cross into the bathroom, hands reaching for the bathroom countertop, resting against it the moment he reaches it. Jisung lets go of him, giving him a few pats on his lower back before turning towards the bedroom.

“I am going to change my clothes, so please call for me when you need me again. Do not try to go to the couch by yourself like last time.” By last time Jisung meant that Minho tried to lean against the walls to make it back to the couch on his own, simply because he was determined to be independent for once. He made it halfway there before accidentally applying too much pressure to his ankle, and he crumpled to the floor like a broken cookie in a sobbing mess. Jisung helped him back to the couch, settling him down before telling him I told you so with what seemed like a half-hug that Minho tried to shrug off.

“I am not feeling brave today, Jisung’ah. Don’t worry.” Minho promises, a sly glimmer lingering in his eyes.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you. I’m serious. Don’t. Do it.” Jisung threatens, but Minho rolls his eyes again, smiling from ear to ear.

“Yeah, yeah, Nurse Jisung. Now go away, I gotta pee.”

Jisung closes the door for him and leaves. Not even two minutes later is Minho opening the bathroom door and standing there, hands on the doorframe as he contemplates leaving on his own.

“I heard you open the door Minho! Are you done?” Jisung yells from the kitchen and Minho laughs, biting his bottom lip.

“No!”

“Then why is the door open, hyung?” God dammit. Plan B.

“Soonie was at the door!”

“That’s incredibly funny Minho, because I’m looking at all three of the cats right now!” Plans foiled.

“Fine! Come help me, then!” Minho yells back, listening to Jisung’s steps grow louder from down the hall.

“You’re really stubborn sometimes, y’know that?” Jisung huffs jokingly, sliding under Minho’s outstretched arm again.

“I just like teasing you, Jisung.” Minho coos, but Jisung groans.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you’re still here, hm? I can’t be that insufferable.” Minho says sweetly, and Jisung pretends to gag.

“God–” Jisung listens to Minho laugh as they start walking carefully. “You’re literally a child. Can I call a babysitter instead? Do I have to be your caregiver?”

“You’re stuck with me Jisungie! Deal with it.” Minho doesn’t get a response, only briefly noticing how red Jisung’s ears were.

Sometimes he just really liked to mess with Jisung, and Jisung couldn’t hate him for it.

Tuesday

Minho was alone. He was sitting on the couch, eyes glued to his phone for the nth time that evening, breathing heavily as he contemplated on what to do.

Jisung had left to go meet with Felix to keep up appearances and to discuss the entire Seungmin issue. Minho was supportive of Jisung going, actually more so forcing him out of the door, wanting him to go and be social, having a moment away for himself. In reality, Minho wanted him to stay. Minho wanted to talk and dive into their feelings, but Jisung wasn’t ready for it yet. There was a lot to unpack, and it was overwhelming, but Minho tried to stay patient, yet his heart was leading him astray.

But he sits there, mind blank and heart numb, finally submerged into the feeling of being alone again. It’s only then does he realize that he missed Jisung’s presence more than he ever has, simply because of how comfortable it all felt. Jisung was coming back. There was no need to miss him the way he did, and for some reason he found it hard to hold it back.

So, he does the only thing anyone rational in his position would do. He swipes away from Twitter, tapping on his messages, scrolling until he finds Jisung’s name and starts typing away.

I miss you. Come back.

He hesitates for a second, contemplating. They aren’t together. They’re just friends, if that at all. There was a lot of damaged relationship between them, but Minho wants him back. So, he sends it.

Minho stares at the text message chain, watching time tick past without a response. Just as he’s about to text back to tell Jisung to ignore the message, Jisung responds cryptically.

Han Jisung

Let’s talk when I get home.

Minho’s hand raises to gently smack himself in the forehead. Fuck. He wanted to, truly he did, but who knows what he heard from Felix? What if Jisung was coming back angry and wanted to leave? Minho was stressing now, throwing his phone onto the couch as he tried to focus on his show. But time is slow and the devil, according to Minho anyway, so he reaches for his phone again, surprised to see another text from Jisung.

Han Jisung

I’ll be there in five.

FUCK. Minho groans, now throwing his phone to the other end of the couch, sitting with his heart beating out of his chest. He regrets texting him now. He really, truly does. He doesn’t want this to end. He wants to be selfish forever and keep Jisung here, hoping that the ache in his ankle never leaves just so that Jisung never does either.

“I’m back!” Jisung says, almost cheerfully. Minho’s gaze shoots towards the door, blinking twice before he thinks into the time he spent staring at the coffee table ahead of him. Had he really zoned out for that entire five minutes? “Minho?”

“Huh? Yeah! Sorry. I’m here.” Minho nearly stutters, adjusting the way he was sitting on the couch carefully as Jisung walks into the living space. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah. I’ve thought about it, and I’m ready to discuss what happened in Jeju.”

“Oh? That fast?”

“I really went to meet Felix with the intention of talking about how I feel so I could see someone else’s point of view, but he was so wrapped up in talking about Hyunjin that I didn’t have it in me to stop him. He sounded so happy and so in love– I. . . I realized that I wanted that too.”

“What are you saying?”

“Uhm. . . be patient with me as I try to get the words right, okay?” Jisung pleads, sitting down on the couch, hands struggling to settle on his lap. “Listen, Minho. I’ve known for a while how I felt about you. I’m not the greatest at showing it or explaining it, so this is kind of hard for me.”

Minho timidly reaches for Jisung’s hand, trapping it within his own, fingers trailing along his skin soothingly. “Take your time.”

Jisung smiles at him, eyes looking down at their hands. “When I left your apartment that night after we slept together, I was just afraid. I was scared about how I felt because I didn’t know how you felt. It was a lot, and I don’t get attached to people like that. I thought it would go away if I just ignored it, but when we went to Jeju and I spent that time with you, I realized then what it meant. The aquarium made all of it harder to ignore. It hit me when we went back and, y’know, we started doing stuff, and I was just saying things without realizing the impact of them. I was just letting my feelings loose because I couldn’t stand keeping them to myself anymore.”

Jisung holds Minho’s hand a little tighter. “Then the day after, I went to Seungmin because you said that you cheated on someone and I had to know if it was true. I had to know why Seungmin lied to me, too. But the conversation went the complete opposite way that I wanted it to, and I was just overwhelmed and and I was so scared–”

“Breathe.” Minho dotes, flipping his hand around gently, intertwining their fingers, running his thumb along the side of Jisung’s hand.

“It was a lot for me. I don’t like yelling and confrontation, I tend to just defend myself in any way that I can so I can just leave the situation as quickly as possible. And yeah, I was an idiot in thinking that sleeping with you again would fix anything. But the truth is that I just wanted you. I wanted to be close to you and I wanted you to myself, but I realized that I couldn’t have you. Well, I thought that I couldn’t have both of you. Felix told me that Seungmin is coming around and has been asking about me, so the door for our friendship isn’t closed like I thought it would be. It was just hard to have two important people in my life pulling me in different directions and I just panicked.”

Minho watches him fondly, listening completely and whole-heartedly, waiting for the moment Jisung’s eyes raise to meet his own. “What I’m trying to say is that I found it hard to admit that I loved you, so when it finally came out and you said it back, my only thought was to run away. I didn’t want to drag you into my mess and I didn’t want to lose anyone again. I thought that if I broke it all off, I could avoid the heartbreak before it would start to hurt. But, it hurt the moment I left that room.”

“You have no idea how hard it was for me to stand in that room and not chase after you, Ji.”

“I wish you would’ve.” Jisung’s eyes finally rise to meet his, brimmed with tears. “I wish you would’ve turned me around and told me to stop being so afraid. I just needed someone to look at me and tell me that I deserve to be loved, because I’m so scared of being let down and not being enough, so I just distance myself until I get to the point where that if people leave, then it won’t hurt.”

“Jisung–” Minho would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t crumbling into little pieces now, his own tears threatening to spill over as he watches Jisung fall apart in front of him.

“But you hurt the worst. I’ve never hated myself for letting someone go that much before. I was so hesitant on taking your call because I knew it would reopen all of the wounds between us, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”

“I just want you to be happy, Jisung. I didn’t want to make you feel like that again–”

“But I need you to hear this. I need you to hear me say this because I feel like I’m going to fall apart if I don’t say it to you.” Jisung breathes, tears sinking down the sides of his cheeks. “I love you. I love you so much that it fucking hurts.”

Minho’s eyes widen slightly, mouth slightly agape, searching Jisung’s gaze for anything, but all he can see is the pleading eyes that stared at him with so much love and hurt mixed within them. Minho lets go of his hand, retreating for a second, glancing down, mind moving at a million miles per hour. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything, really. I just needed you to hear me–”

Minho’s gaze raises again, hands reaching with haste, grabbing the younger by the sides of his face and jaw, pressing close until he’s kissing the words from his lips. Minho breaks the kiss first, slowly pulling away, forehead leaning towards Jisung’s as he rests there, lips an inch away, breathing in shared air. Jisung is looking at him from beneath his eyelashes expectantly, waiting for an answer, but Minho closes his eyes again and whispers his response against Jisung’s lips.

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

Jisung can’t breathe.

He’s sitting across from Minho, hand tangled with his, eyes leaking with shed tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Minho had leaned backwards, eyes gazing at him adoringly, waiting for Jisung’s next words. Jisung can’t help but sit there, mind stuck on the admittance of four words strung together that made his heart melt. Minho loved him, too.

“I–” Jisung hesitates, hand gripping onto Minho’s tighter. “I think I need to hear you say it. Again.”

Minho leans a little closer, as best as he could with how he was sitting, eyes lowering to focus on Jisung’s lips. “I love you too, Jisung.”

Jisung’s stomach does a front flip. “Again.”

Minho leans closer, body slightly tilted, pressing a soft kiss on Jisung’s left cheek. “I love you, Hannie.”

“Mhm, that was a new nickname.” Jisung bites his lower lip. “Again.”

Minho gives in with a playful breath, kissing his right cheek. “I love you.”

“One more time–” Jisung teases, leaning closer until his lips brush against Minho’s. “I don’t think I heard you.”

Minho’s eyes flick downwards, nose gently bumping into Jisung’s. “I love you, Han Jisung.”

Jisung gives in, slotting their lips together chastely, pressing kiss after kiss to Minho’s lips, breathing in his air, hands rising to hold Minho by his jaw tenderly.

“Mhm, so you heard me that time?” Minho asks between kisses, feeling Jisung smile against him.

“I just–” Jisung kisses him again. “Couldn’t believe that you said it back.”

“I said it to you before, Jisung.” Minho says quietly, his left thumb reaching to drag across the younger’s bottom lip. “Why would you think that I wouldn’t say it back?”

“You fell out of love with Seungmin–” Jisung breathes quietly, heart thumping against his chest. “I thought that you might’ve fallen out of love with me.”

“Not even for a second.” Minho corrects, pressing another kiss to Jisung’s lips. “Do you want me to say it again?”

“It might help if you did.” Jisung smiles, pulling Minho closer.

“Okay,” Minho brushes his top lip over Jisung’s bottom lip, voice a hushed murmur. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jisung kisses him, slowly inching closer, nearly unable to withstand the distance placed between them. Minho carefully moves his elevated leg off of the coffee table, bending at the knee, now able to lean closer to Jisung before the younger pulls apart from him.

Minho follows Jisung’s movements as he presses closer, legs careful as they begin to move to straddle him.

Minho reconnects their lips in a bruising kiss, one that’s sloppy and almost all teeth, chasing the hungry feeling swelling inside of his gut. Jisung groans quietly into his mouth, teeth nipping at Minho’s lower lip to allow him the access to lick into his mouth. Minho complies without thinking, grabbing onto Jisung’s tongue and sucking; filthy.

Jisung’s hands travel to the back of Minho’s neck, toying with his hair, tugging and pulling as he complies to every will that Minho conjures. Minho was leading the kiss now, shifting the dynamic between them as he lunged forwards, grabbing Jisung’s bottom lip with his teeth, releasing with a huff of breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you like this.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” Jisung says quietly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Minho’s lips.

“You’re worth the wait.” Minho hums, chasing after Jisung’s lips, kissing him tenderly. “I would do it all again if it led us to this.”

“Even with all of the shit I put you through?” Jisung asks quietly, but Minho nods.

“I don’t care about that now. You’re here. You’re with me. The past is the past, Jisung. You’re mine now.”

Jisung eyes Minho with a reddened gaze, tears threatening to fall again as he rests atop his thighs, fingers traveling further into his hair. “Say it to me, Jisung.”

Jisung’s eyes grow wider, curious; head slightly tilting. “Say what?”

“That you’re mine.”

Jisung leans closer again, fingers curling in his auburn tresses, just barely ghosting his lips over Minho’s. “I’m yours, Minho.”

Minho kisses him again, softer this time; gently. There was no cut off this time. No prying eyes to worry about, no worry of going too far, and no intimate boundaries. They loved each other, and that was deemed enough.

“Sleep with me tonight,” Jisung asks quietly against Minho’s lips, retreating for a breath and leaning back slightly, gauging the look in the elder’s eyes.

“You sure?” Minho’s hands trail to settle on Jisung’s waist, moving up and down slowly in soothing drags.

“Mhm.” Jisung leans forward, pressing his lips to Minho’s forehead. “I don’t want to be without you anymore.”

“Help me up, then.” Minho breathes, thumbs pressing into Jisung’s skin.

“M’kay–” Jisung kisses him again with the intent to pull away, but he finds himself surging back for more, kissing and kissing until he can barely catch his breath.

“Ji–” Minho smiles between kisses. “Jisung. Y-You’ve gotta stop kissing me if you wanna go to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung giggles quietly, kissing him again. “In a second. I’m a little preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky my ankle hurts, Jisungie.” Minho hums, pressing his finger beneath Jisung’s chin, tilting his head back slightly. Jisung raises a curious brow, teeth scraping across his bottom lip.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’d really like to pin you against the wall right now.” Minho leans closer, kissing Jisung’s jaw, then the skin beneath his ear, kissing lower and lower until he feels Jisung squirming in his lap.

“I wish you would, hyung.” Jisung sighs, hands gripping Minho’s hair tighter.

“Not now.” Minho kisses his skin again. “Soon. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to it,” Jisung smiles, feeling Minho’s hand release his chin. “Are you seriously that tired right now?”

“Not really. I just wanna hold you.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Jisung tilts his head down, kissing his forehead again before carefully moving himself off of Minho’s lap. Jisung stands in front of him waiting, holding his hands out for Minho to take a hold of whenever he is ready to.

Minho scoots to the edge of the couch, taking Jisung’s hands, carefully rising from the cushion without issue. Minho holds onto Jisung again, slowly walking with him towards the bedroom, leaving the uncomfortable couch behind.

“Here, I’m okay from here.” Minho says as his hands greet the edge of the bed. Jisung lets go of him carefully, watching him cautiously as Minho moves along the sill of the mattress. Jisung hesitantly walks to his side of the bed, pulling up the comforter from its desired place, tossing back both sides of the cover so Minho could get into bed with little effort.

“It feels nice to be back in here again,” Minho breathes, finally sitting down on the mattress with a breath of relief.

“You really should’ve just told me the couch was that bad.” Jisung frowns, shoving his legs beneath the comforter.

“No, it’s okay, Jisung. I wanted you to be comfortable since you’re taking care of my pathetic ass.”

“You aren’t pathetic, Minho. Stop that.”

Minho carefully brings both of his legs onto the bed, pushing his waist further down as he leans back, a subtle, relaxing sigh rolling through his lungs the moment he makes contact with his cold pillows. Jisung moves over towards him, helping Minho adjust his pillows slightly before laying down, curling up against the elder’s chest.

“Thank you.” Jisung says quietly, feeling Minho’s hand wrap around his waist.

“For what, Jisungie?”

“For not giving up on me.” Jisung’s eyes trail towards the elder’s chest, his hands moving autonomously as his fingers trail soft circles against his clothed skin. Jisung swallows his nerves haphazardly, jaw tightening suddenly, keeping the surging tears at bay.

He was incredibly stressed out this last week, hoping and praying for an outcome similar to this, but he never bet on it. He didn’t know what Minho was thinking nor what he was feeling, so the fact that he was here now felt unreal.

They were together now, and that in itself was unbelievable enough.

“I never would, Ji.” Minho tilts his head towards him slightly, kissing the crown of his head.

“I really love you.” Jisung’s hand falls flat onto Minho’s chest, nuzzling his face into the elder further.

“I know.” Minho breathes. “I love you, too.”

Minho wakes without a sting in his back. His eyes peel open slightly, welcoming the sight of his room casted in almost-complete darkness. Trickles of sunlight dared to peak through his narrowly parted curtains, dancing on the edge of his bed in hues of orange.

He was still lying on his back, covered waist down in a thick comforter, but filled with the sense of something missing. Minho turns his head towards his windows, spotting his phone just out of the corner of his eyes, then turning his head back to the right, now noticing that Jisung was no longer laid on his chest. But as he cranes his head further, he notices Jisung still asleep next to him, just a few inches away. Minho lets a tired breath sink into his lungs, eyes raking over Jisung’s fluffy bed head and long eyelashes, wondering how he got so lucky to end up like this.

Minho, very carefully, turns over and extends his arms out, wrapping around Jisung softly, pulling the younger into his chest. Jisung grumbles in his sleep, still incoherent, just barely hanging on the edge of reality as he accepts the new found warmth trapped in Minho’s arms.

Minho doesn’t say a word, one hand threading through Jisung’s hair, the other snaked across his waist protectively.

Minho didn’t care how early it was, nor what responsibilities lay waiting for him, he just wanted to hold onto his moment for as long as he could. His head lulls further into his pillow, almost back on the cusp of sleep when his phone starts ringing.

Minho audibly groans, gently turning over to avoid hurting his ankle as his arm swings towards the nightstand, grabbing a hold of his phone. He barely cares enough to check the caller ID before answering it, holding the phone to his ear.

“Turn it off,” Jisung mutters against his chest. Minho kisses his forehead and hushes him.

“Hello?”

“Minho? Did I wake you?” Chris, perceptive as ever, was right again.

“Yes you did. What d’you want?”

“I was just checking in on you. I texted you an hour ago but you didn’t respond to me, and well, now I know why, but I was kinda worried that you didn’t text back.”

“It’s not that late, is it?”

“It’s almost eleven, Minho.” Chris scoffs at the sigh of annoyance that comes through Minho’s lips.

“Fuck.”

“You must’ve been tired. Did you stay awake all night?”

“No, just had a lot on my mind as of late. Everything is fine, though.”

“Seungmin was asking about Jisung last night.”

Minho’s eyes snap open, feeling Jisung’s head inch away from his chest. “Oh?”

“He’s concerned. He stopped by Jisung’s apartment last night and he wasn’t home. Have you heard from him at all?”

“Ah, shit.” Minho sighs, rolling onto his back again. Jisung slowly sits upright, eyes blinking awake tiredly as he listens to the conversation unfold.

“What?”

“Uhm.” Minho glances at Jisung, almost as a silent plea of help me as the call lingers in silence. Jisung just blinks at him for a moment, groggy for a moment before he shrugs.

“Tell him.” Jisung says quietly. “But he can’t tell Seungmin.”

“Minho? Is there something I should know?”

“Shit–” Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing the moment he finds the words and the will to spill the truth. “Jisung is with me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, Chan. I’m serious.”

“He’s there right now?”

“He is literally right next to me.”

“You guys didn’t have sex again, did you?”

“God, hyung, what the fuck? No?!”

“I’m just making sure! Last time we talked about it, you guys were still. . . y’know–”

“Yeah I know. It’s not like that anymore. It’s different.”

“Different how?”

Minho turns to look at Jisung again, asking silently for consent. Jisung just nods. “Well. . . we’re together.”

“Together as in what? Like in bed together?”

“God, you’re so dense.” Minho rolls his eyes, listening to Chris laugh through the other line.

“Throw me a bone here, Minho. You can be really cryptic sometimes!”

“He’s my boyfriend, alright? Is that clear enough for you?”

“Jesus.” Chris huffs. “Okay, good on ya. I’m glad you guys worked it all out. But, Seungmin doesn’t know any of this, does he?”

“No. It needs to stay that way until Jisung talks to him first.”

“God. Alright.”

“I told you all of that in good faith, hyung. Do not tell him.”

“What do you want me to tell Seungmin? I’m literally headed to his apartment right now and he’s going to ask me.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Tell him that Jisung went to visit his mom or something. Anything that’s believable.” Minho looks at Jisung, brows slightly furrowed. “What would be believable to Seungmin?”

“Tell him that I went to go see my parents because work was too much for me.”

“Did you hear that Channie?”

“I did. I’ll tell him that. He’s probably going to want to hear from Jisung soon, though. I don’t know how long you plan on not telling him, but keeping this a secret for God knows how long is not going to end well. Think about that, please.”

“I don’t want to keep this a secret for a year, Chan. We just need to figure out a way to tell Seungmin. It’s not going to be easy for him to accept.”

“Does Hyunjin or Felix know any of this?”

“No. It’s just you. I mean what I said, Channie. No one else can know.”

“Alright, alright. You can trust me. Just keep me in the loop from now on.”

“I will. Have fun with lover boy.”

“Don’t call him that!” Chris whines, but Minho tiredly laughs anyway.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, Channie.” Minho hangs up without waiting for the elder to respond, tossing his phone away to the nightstand. “Sorry about that, Ji. I didn’t realize he’d call me, otherwise I would’ve turned my phone off.”

“It’s okay.” Jisung carefully moves over to hover above Minho’s chest, leaning on his elbows as he lowers himself down to partially lay on him. Minho’s arms raise to wrap around Jisung, landing on his lower back, gaze sleepy and fond. “We should probably get up, anyway.”

“Probably.” Minho agrees. “I don’t want to do anything today, though. Can’t we just lay in bed?”

“We can after we eat and after you take your meds. You’ve got a couple days of this left before we see your doctor again, remember?”

“We?” Minho smiles lightly. “Who ever said you were coming with me?”

“What was that term you used? Boyfriend?” Jisung raises his brow curiously. “I think we qualify as we now.”

“If you say so.” Minho rolls his eyes playfully, earning a tired giggle from Jisung that almost instantly melts his heart. Jisung pulls out whatever tired strength he had, raising to his hands as he scootches closer, head craning down with his lips inches away from Minho’s.

“I do say so. Only because I love you.” Jisung kisses him. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“It’s everything.” Minho assures. “Because I love you, too.”

“Good.” Jisung kisses him again, and again, unable to resist the smile curled on his dopey lips. Minho melts into him every single time, one hand on his waist, the other threaded through his hair.

The last month had been filled with turmoil and lust, coated in a false sense of security that vanished with the will of biting words. Minho was truthful when he said that he’d live through it all again if it would lead him right here every single time. Only a short time ago he believed that he was Jisung’s, but Jisung was never his.

He couldn’t have been more wrong then. Jisung had always been his. They were both just too scared to admit it.

One Month Later.

“Jisung’ah!” Minho shouts from the living room, pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders. “We’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” Jisung shouts back from the bedroom, stumbling around audibly.

Jisung and Minho were trying to go meet Felix and Hyunjin with the intent of letting them in on the secret of their relationship. They had their reasons for being so secretive about this for so long, trying to focus on their new routine rather than the things that could tear them apart.

Minho’s ankle had fully-healed nearly two weeks ago, which gave Jisung the opportunity to finally go back to his own apartment, but he would return a few days later with a bag full of clothes and his recording equipment. With the threat of getting evicted from his apartment looming in the near future, Jisung decided to avoid his landlord by temporarily moving out until he could figure out a way to pay him.

Now, some time later, Jisung was taking way too long fixing his hair and most likely procrastinating because of his anxiety in sharing their relationship with their two friends.

Jisung had spent the entire night before this rethinking their plan and worrying that Felix would resent him for this, but Minho did his best to reassure him.

“Okay, okay–” Jisung strides back into the room, fixing his hoodie and adjusting the black cap on his head. “How late are we?”

“Not that late. Let’s just go.” Minho holds his hand out for him, messing with his car keys in the other hand, a brief wave of nerves tingling up his spine as he prepares to go meet their friends.

Jisung takes his hand, following the elder out of the apartment and to the elevator, walking towards Minho’s white Nissan.

“Still nervous?” Minho asks the moment they settle into the car, turning on the engine while buckling his seatbelt.

“Maybe?” Jisung shrugs. “I dunno. Felix could react in a variety of ways. Do you think Hyunjin is gonna be shocked?”

“Hyunjin is shocked about everything,” Minho scoffs, pulling his car out of its parking space.

“He’s never given me that impression.” Jisung eyes Minho curiously, a bit bewildered.

“Well, Hyunjin can be a bit of an idiot at times, but that’s what makes him so lovable.”

“Felix has always described him differently to me.” Jisung feels Minho’s hand drag over to his left thigh, sitting there protectively, thumb brushing his clothed skin on contact.

“Well, you’re also seeing Hyunjin through Felix’s eyes. Just–. . . try to relax, okay? Hyunjin is gonna react just fine, and so will Felix.”

“I’ll let you do the talking, Minho.” Jisung sighs. “I don’t think anything that comes out of my mouth is going to be helpful.”

“Do whatever you’re comfortable with, Ji.” Minho squeezes his thigh gently. “They’re not going to force you to talk if you don’t want to. They might ask you questions, but you can be vague if you want to be.”

“Well, I don’t want to lie.” Jisung huffs. “This is too difficult.”

“I know. But we’ve gotta do this. Doing this is our key to telling Seungmin, and then all of this will be behind us.”

“The sooner the better.” Jisung mutters, hand falling on top of Minho’s lightly.

Before they know it, they arrive at the cafe near Felix’s apartment, spotting Hyunjin and Felix waiting outside near what they assumed to be one of their cars. Minho gives Jisung a reassuring glance before getting out of the car, waving to their friends as they head into the cafe. Felix and Hyunjin don’t pester them with questions at first, but Jisung knows that they were waiting until they sat down to bombard them with the events of the last two months.

They all place a drink order before quietly sitting with one another, wondering who’d be the first to speak up. Felix takes it upon himself to start the conversation with light chatter.

“So,” Felix settles into his seat, Hyunjin to his left. “What’s been up with you two? I feel like I haven’t really heard from either of you as of late.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Minho leads, feeling Jisung’s radiating anxiety pour out of him. Minho looks at Jisung, searching his gaze for a second before turning back to Felix and Hyunjin, biting the interior of his lip. “After Jeju, we technically broke off everything between us. I’m sure you both remember that.”

Felix and Hyunjin both hum and nod in agreement, waiting for Minho to continue. “We didn’t talk to each other for almost a month, but uhm, Hyunjin probably knows this, but I got hurt while at the studio teaching one of my classes.”

“Yeah, Channie told me.” Hyunjin mutters, which earns a concerned gaze from Felix.

“What happened?” Felix asks softly.

“A student walked in on me practicing and startled me, so I stumbled and I sprained the absolute shit out of my ankle. I tried calling Chan several times and I knew Hyunjin would be at work, so I called Jisung. I didn’t expect him to answer, honestly, but he did. He took me to the hospital and took me home, but he ended up staying with me for the entirety of the time it took to recover.”

“So, you guys talked then? About Jeju?” Hyunjin asks, pointing to both of them with a flicking motion.

“We did. Little bits at a time, actually. We talked about Seungmin, we talked about how we felt and we talked about what this meant to us.” Minho turns to look at Jisung again, who was sitting taller in his chair suddenly, hands fidgeting with one another as he remained quiet in his seat. Minho waits, giving the younger the opportunity to speak if he wants it, but Jisung looks over to him, gaze searching, words almost unable to come out.

“Take your time.” Minho whispers, reaching a subtle hand beneath the stretch of the table to land over Jisung’s fidgeting hands, bringing their trembling and picking to a halt almost immediately.

“I told him that I loved him.” Jisung suddenly admits, turning his gaze towards Felix specifically, then moves to look at Hyunjin. Felix’s emotions were unreadable, but Hyunjin, as Minho predicted, was shocked.

“And?” Hyunjin looks at Minho expectantly. “What did you say back to him?”

“I told him that I loved him back.” Minho watches Hyunjin’s face melt into several emotions that range from surprise, love, shock and happiness, all elated by the overwhelming urge to congratulate the two. Felix remained quiet, staring at Jisung with a blank expression.

“Did you tell Seungmin?” Felix deadpans, earning a look from Minho and Hyunjin both.

“That’s. . . what we’re trying to do next.” Jisung honestly remarks, swallowing nervously.

“Listen, Felix–” Minho interrupts, trying to draw the attention away from Jisung. “Seungmin was really sensitive and worked up when we saw him last. We didn’t want to make it worse for him mainly because he hasn’t wanted to talk to Jisung since Jeju.”

“He’s been so upset.” Felix shakes his head slightly. “He’s been worried sick about you, Jisung.”

“I know.” Jisung’s hands clench around the fabric of his pants tightly, eyes avoiding Felix as they bore into his lap. “I feel guilty. I didn’t want to choose between him and Minho, Felix. I want both of them. I just don’t know how to tell him that.”

“He just wants you to be honest.” Felix’s tone shifts softer now, aware of the impact his words were having on his best friend. “Listen, I’m not mad at you. I’m just in shock, is all. I’m of course a bit upset that Seungmin is the last to find out again, but if you stick to the promise of telling him, then it’s none of my business what you do.”

“Chan told me that Seungmin was asking about him a lot more recently.” Minho says quietly.

“Seungmin thinks that Jisung is avoiding him, which is partially true, but not in the way that Seungmin is seeing it.” Felix sighs, looking over to Hyunjin. “Should I just tell him?”

“I think you should.” Hyunjin says quietly. Jisung is practically staring worriedly at Felix now, gripping onto his pants tighter.

“Seungmin and Chan are dating.” Felix says with a dry tone, unsure of how Minho and Jisung would take the news. “They have been officially for a week or so now.”

“If you couldn’t tell, that’s why Channie knew everything and was asking everything for Seungmin.”

“Well, I had always joked with him about going to hang out with lover boy, but I never thought it was serious.” Minho looks at Jisung, who seems to have little to no reaction to the news.

“I’m happy for him.” Jisung’s voice is shaky suddenly, and Minho immediately leans closer, catching a glimpse of a tear falling from his eye.

“Jisung–” Minho mutters under his breath. “Do you need a second?”

“I’m fine, I just–” Jisung takes a steady breath, gaze tilting upwards towards Felix. “I want to be happy for him, but I’m holding onto so much resentment because I don’t think Seungmin would have the same reaction. I want to tell him that I’m so happy with Minho and that I finally feel like I’ve found my person, but I don’t think he’d be happy for me. I think he’d only hate me because Minho couldn’t love him the way he loves me.”

“You can’t be sure that he would feel like that.” Hyunjin tries to reassure, but Jisung shakes his head.

“It’s how he’s always been. I get that what I did was really fucking shitty, okay? I don’t need anyone to tell me that. I got with my best friend’s ex and fell in love with him like an asshole and then proceeded to lie about us having relations behind his back for months, but. . . I don’t know. I didn’t do it to be malicious. I didn’t even know that he dated Minho that seriously.”

“To be honest Jisung, I think he’s mostly over the whole thing. He just wants to talk to you.” Felix sighs, hands toying with his phone that was laying in front of him on the table.

“I want to talk to him too, but not now. Not until I can get rid of this resentment.”

“I’m glad you told us all of that,” Hyunjin nods, taking it all in. “It’s a lot, but it feels better to be updated than in the dark.”

“I really am happy for you two, Ji. I promise I am. No one deserves to be loved more than you do, but promise me that you’ll do the right thing and tell Seungmin.” Felix pleads quietly, searching Jisung’s gaze hesitantly.

“I will. I just need a bit more time.”

“That’s okay.” Minho reassures, grabbing his hand warmly, feeling Jisung’s grip on his pants lessen. “We’ve got time.”

“Now tell me–” Hyunjin smiles. “How did you two finally realize that it was stupid to keep pining over each other?”

“Oh boy.” Felix laughs lightly, breaking the tension between the group almost immediately. Minho leans back in his chair, trapping Jisung’s hand within his own, head tilted to the side with a rolling sigh.

“Well–”

“Minho,” Jisung calls lightly, sitting at his make-shift desk within Minho’s apartment. “Do you wanna hear this part of the track?”

“Yeah.” Minho leans over Jisung’s chair, hands on either side of him pressed into the desk, head tilted down as Jisung places his headphones over Minho’s ears. Minho adjusts them for a second before letting the track engulf him. It’s bright, bubbly, mixed with cute tones that radiate something happy, and Minho finds himself humming along easily.

He’s heard the track at least ten times by now, and now that he knows that he’s Jisung’s muse for the project, he finds himself lingering around when Jisung is working on it.

“It’s really good, Ji.” Minho hands the headphones back, pressing a kiss to his temple before leaning away. “How much of it do you have left to work on?”

“I just need to finish writing the lyrics.” Jisung says with a content sigh. “I’ve been stuck on this track for almost six months, or something like that, and it feels good to be near the finish line.”

“What have you written for the lyrics so far?” Minho, nosy as ever, peaks over Jisung’s shoulder again, watching the younger scroll to a page hidden on his phone, revealing a tab full of ideas.

Pink chroma key background, the surrounding scenes.

Love is so intuitive everything changes,

The start of a typical romance, though I know it all,

I deeply fall into you and get my hopes up again.

“Jisung’ah,” Minho smiles as he reads the lyrics, biting his bottom lip. “Who would’ve guessed you were such a romantic, hm?”

“I’m not,” Jisung laughs quietly, scrolling further. “I just found it easier to write now that I have someone to write about.”

I'll hold you tight and say I've always been waiting for this moment,

If I hold it any longer, I might just blow up.

“You’re cheesy.” Minho kisses his temple again, then his cheek. “And you’re cute.”

“Stop it.” Jisung swats him away playfully, turning off his phone and setting it down on his desk. “I don’t know if I’m going to sing this myself or what. That’s my only issue. I could hire someone to do it with me, but, I dunno–”

“I’ll sing it with you.” Minho tries to tease, but Jisung turns around in his chair, brow raised, curious on if Minho actually meant it.

“Seriously?”

“I mean. . . if you want me to. I took singing lessons and stuff when I was younger, so it’s not like I’m terrible.”

“I’ve heard you sing in the shower, hyung. You’re not even close to being bad. You’re better than you say you are.”

“Okay, but that’s in the shower, of all places.” Minho rolls his eyes, but Jisung reaches to grab his wrist, pulling him closer.

“I’m serious now, too. Sing it with me.”

“Are you sure?” Minho blinks at him twice, eyes casted down, wrist still being held gently in Jisung’s grasp.

“One hundred percent.” Jisung smiles at him, standing from his chair as he pulls Minho closer suddenly, nearly chest to chest now. “I’d rather sing with you than some stranger.”

“What if I ruin the vibe of the song?”

“You won’t. I think we could make a really good song together, Minho. Please, just try for me? Please?”

Minho sighs, watching Jisung pout his lower lip playfully, but he knew minutes ago that he wanted to. Jisung didn’t have to ask, his mind was already made up.

“Okay.” Minho agrees quietly. “But if I suck, you are not allowed to be mad at me.”

“You’re not going to suck,” Jisung smacks his chest teasingly, moving his hands up to rest behind Minho’s neck, looking him in the eyes fondly.

“I love you.” Minho says softly, eyes filled to the brim with adoration. Jisung kisses him once, pulling away with eyes so full of love, you’d think his pupils were heart shaped.

“I love you, too.” Jisung kisses him again, hands falling away to smack the elder on his ass before leaning away, sitting back down in his desk chair. “Now stop distracting me so I can write some cheesy lyrics.”

“What if I give you something to write about?” Minho offers lightly, and Jisung almost turns his chair right back around.

“Later, hyung.” Jisung laughs, eyes glued to his laptop.

“I’ll go order us dinner, then. What d’you want?”

“Whatever you’re having.” Jisung tosses over his shoulder, and Minho scoffs at him.

“You’re so easy.”

“Hey!” Jisung’s head snaps around, looking directly at Minho while raising his hand to point his finger at him. “Am not!”

“Sure, jagiya. We’ll see about that later tonight, hmm?”

Jisung’s face flushes, and Minho laughs manically, walking out of the bedroom and into the living space, leaving Jisung alone with reddened cheeks and a growing smile.

Chapter Text

“Okay–” Jisung breathes, hand nearly glued to his computer mouse, the other gripping onto the bottom of his hoodie nervously. “Three, two. . . one!”

Jisung presses the button on his mouse, watching another window pop open on his computer above the one he had been staring at for the past twenty minutes. “That’s it! It’s uploaded. Now, we just wait.”

“I’m proud of you,” Minho hums as he stands behind him, arms reaching to drape around his shoulders and dangle in front of his chest. He pressed two warm kisses against Jisung’s temple, feeling Jisung’s hand that was once on his mouse drift upwards to grab onto his wrist.

“That was a lot of work.” Jisung sighs, relief flooding his chest. “I can’t believe that I started this song in March and I’m only now releasing it in October.”

Jisung had spent the last couple of weeks finishing Want So Bad with urgency, receiving a threatening text from his landlord only a couple of days ago with the assurance that if Jisung didn’t move his stuff out, a company would do it for him and put it all in a landfill.

Minho was back to work too, leaving Jisung alone in the apartment for hours at a time without distraction, finally able to work independently and unbothered, making significant progress on the track almost everyday.

Minho did agree to sing the song with Jisung, which took some practice and some reassurance, but ended up working well through the entire track. Jisung was impressed about Minho’s vocal range throughout the process of recording, encouraging him to sing with his full voice, which Minho so graciously offered anyway.

Jisung spent so much time editing and composing, making sure that everything sounded perfect before letting Minho listen to it himself, which had the elder turning into a flustered, and almost crying, mess. Jisung would ask him what’s wrong, and Minho would just shake his head and tell him how much he loves him.

Ever since their meeting with Hyunjin and Felix, the two have avoided contact with almost everyone. Chris called at least three times a week to check in on Minho, but they hardly ever discussed Seungmin. Felix stayed in contact with Jisung about his progress with his new music, only because Jisung couldn’t contain his excitement about finally releasing a new song that he deemed as incredible. Call him biased, but he was truly impressed with himself.

Jisung called Felix earlier this morning, talking about how he was releasing the track just before midnight, but didn’t bother to mention that Minho was featured in said love song.

Now, Jisung and Minho sit within Jisung’s nearly empty apartment at his desk, watching the computer monitors with relief and excitement. They had snuck in almost two hours ago, trying to avoid the eyes of Jisung’s landlord just so they could upload the file properly on Jisung’s full set up rather than on his laptop.

“You can tell that you poured a lot of time into it.” Minho assures, leaning down towards Jisung’s ear.

“You and I make a great team,” Jisung says fondly, his other hand reaching up to grab Minho’s other wrist.

“In what aspect?” Minho teases, leaning forward to kiss Jisung’s cheek.

“You and I have good harmony together,” Jisung’s breath hitches when he feels Minho’s lips drag lower towards his jaw, tender kisses turning open-mouthed. “We just. . . sound so good together.”

“Mhm,” Minho hums. “Tell me more.”

“We fit together well, too.” Jisung breathes, his grip on Minho’s wrists tightening subtly.

“You feel really good, Ji–” Minho teases, teeth gently grazing over the surface of Jisung’s sensitive skin.

“So do you,” Jisung turns around in his chair, unable to withstand the tension settling between them, standing up to trap Minho’s lips in a kiss, one that turns searing the longer it lasts.

“Let me show you–” Minho kisses him again. “How proud I am of you, Jisungie.”

A sudden ringing interrupts their heated moment to both of their dismay, vibrating away in Jisung’s hoodie pocket.

“Ignore it.” Minho pleads, gluing his lips to Jisung’s jaw, biting and sucking teasingly. Jisung really doesn’t want to answer it, not with how much he wanted Minho at the moment, but knowing that it could be his landlord, he insists on answering rather than ignoring.

“God, I want to–” Jisung breathes, hands gently pushing Minho off of him by his shoulders. “But it’s probably important. Just a second, baby. Okay?”

Minho audibly sighs, making his way towards Jisung’s bed alone, sitting on the edge of it with a fake pout covering his lips. Jisung rolls his eyes at him playfully, pulling his phone from his pocket to see a familiar name disturbing his screen.

“Felix?” Jisung asks as he holds the phone against his ear.

“Hey! I just listened to the song.”

“Oh! How’d you like it? What did you think?”

“It’s really good, Ji. I was impressed.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel better about releasing it.”

“I wanted to invite you out for a drink with me. To celebrate, y’know? I feel like you’ve worked on this song so much and for so long that it should be considered your baby at this point.”

“Oh, Felix, that sounds great, but–”

“What? You don’t wanna celebrate tonight?”

“We should! We should sometime, just. . .” Jisung looks at Minho, watching the elder look back at him expectantly. “Not tonight. I’m tired and I think all of the preparation to release this song has left me really exhausted.”

“I totally understand that. But, okay. Let’s go out soon, then.”

“We will, I promise. Thank you for listening to it, Felix.”

“Of course. Love you, Ji! I’ll see you soon.”

“Mhm, love you too, Lix.” Jisung sighs as he hangs up the phone, slowly walking over to the bed, standing in front of Minho with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“Mm-mm. No apologies.” Minho’s hands wrap around Jisung’s waist, pulling him down onto him, forcing the younger into straddling his lap. “Just want you.”

“What spurred this on? Hm?” Jisung asks almost breathlessly, fixing the way he was sitting as he tosses his phone away towards the pillows, feeling Minho’s hands drift lower to grip onto his ass.

“I wanna celebrate in my own way,” Minho hums, pressing a few kisses to Jisung’s lower neck. “We also just haven’t really had time for each other like this, either.”

Jisung sighs again, feeling guilty about that too. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t I just tell you no apologies?” Minho laughs, leaning away from Jisung’s neck. “Between my work schedule and you working away on this song, there just hasn’t been time. Not to mention I’ve been out of commission for a while because of my ankle, so I should be the one apologizing because I just haven’t had the energy.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Jisung says softly. “I still love you.”

“I love you more.” Minho hums, eyes lulled, hands squeezing Jisung’s ass just barely. Jisung leans in to kiss him, nipping at Minho’s lower lip, hands curling through the back of Minho’s hair, gently tugging in the way that Minho liked. Minho groans into Jisung’s mouth, grasping his ass tighter, shifting around on the bed until he’s able to muster the strength to flip them over. Jisung flops to his back, staring up at Minho with reddened ears, somehow flustered by the fact that Minho had just tossed him around so easily. Minho finds gratification in Jisung’s reaction, hands moving to travel beneath Jisung’s hoodie with haste.

Minho tugs the hoodie off readily, Jisung helping in the process, watching as Minho tosses it off of the bed and out of the way. Jisung moves to pull the elder’s shirt off of his own torso, pulling and pulling until Minho reaches for it himself and tosses it away, too.

“God, you’re so perfect like this.” Minho says, leaning down, kissing Jisung’s exposed collarbones. “So pretty beneath me.”

Jisung bites his lower lip, preening from the compliment, watching Minho readily move to pull both of their pants off. Jisung doesn’t mind the hurried rush of it all, anticipation covering his tongue as he waits, wanting nothing more than to taste Minho like this again.

“Slide up the bed for me,” Minho asks, hands dragging up Jisung’s bare thighs, fingers tracing over skin featherlight. Jisung does as he’s asked, pulling himself towards the middle of his bed, watching Minho finally crawl over him, legs finding purchase between Jisung’s thighs.

Minho reaches for Jisung’s nightstand, finding familiar items he remembered grabbing in a similar fashion almost five months ago. He tears at the line of packets, throwing away the strand to hold one between his teeth, his other hand holding a bottle that he sets down on the bed next to Jisung.

Jisung is eyeing Minho shamelessly now, scaling over his build and naked torso, swallowing hesitantly when his gaze reaches Minho’s taut and sharp jawline, feeling saliva pool over his tongue. He’s hungry for him in a way that he never has been before. Maybe it has something to do with being openly in love with him now, or the fact that they’ve been officially together for almost two months, but something about this new hunger is lighting a fire in his abdomen and shooting straight to his dick.

Minho leans down after removing the packet from between his teeth, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s chin, then to his lips, humming quietly in contentment at Jisung’s flushed reaction. “D’you want me to touch you, Jisungie?”

Jisung nods feverishly, fingers curling into his sheets. “More than anything.”

Minho graciously complies, reaching for the discarded bottle to coat his hand liberally. Jisung watches with an eager gaze, releasing a breathy sigh the second he feels Minho’s hand wrap around the flesh between his legs.

“Mhm, feel good? Hmm?” Minho coos, pressing a few kisses to Jisung’s chest, stroking him slowly.

“God yes.” Jisung breathes, eyes lulling shut, hips slightly arching away from the bed. Minho leans further over Jisung, pressing a few kisses to his throat, teasingly gracing his teeth over his skin, listening to Jisung’s breath hitch and heighten.

Minho’s wrist moves quicker, leaving Jisung a mess beneath him, writhing and pulling at the sheets. Jisung doesn’t feel like he can take it, skin tingling with an electric current that feels intoxicating, wanting more, more, more.

“I need m-more–” Jisung breathes weakly. “Please.”

Minho kisses his lips, listening to the whine that comes from Jisung’s throat die down with the heat of their kiss. Minho removes his hand, sliding it down the side of Jisung’s thigh, pressing between him teasingly. He reaches for the bottle again, spreading more cooled liquid between his fingers before using his dry hand to spread Jisung’s thighs further apart.

“Christ–” Jisung breathes, almost gasping the second he feels the intrusion.

“Just tell me what you want, Jisungie.” Minho says, dipping down and kissing Jisung’s pelvis, dragging further and further. Jisung’s words catch in his throat as Minho bites down on the interior of his thigh, sucking with purpose before letting the skin go with a huff. Jisung’s back arches with every forward movement, words fleeing from his tongue in a rushed, whispered manner. He was barely coherent, feeling more and more drunk on lust with every passing second.

“Fuck.” Jisung groans, letting a whine roll off of his tongue the second Minho bites his thigh again. Minho adds another, and Jisung feels his world tilt on its axis.

“Use your words, Jisungie.” Minho hums, kissing his thigh once more before leaning over Jisung again, craning down to nip at the younger’s lower lip. Jisung looks up at him just barely, eyes lulling shut the second Minho’s fingers curl.

“God, fuck Minho–” Jisung’s hands leave their clutched position beside him, traveling up into the elder’s hair, pulling him down to clash into his lips. Minho’s free hand quickly moves to pull Jisung’s right leg further upright, ankle settled near his lower back. Minho drives further into him, teeth grabbing onto Jisung’s bottom lip, sucking lightly, letting it go not a second later.

“More–” Jisung swallows. “Please. Need all of you.”

Minho kisses him again, humming when he pulls away. “No.”

Jisung whines dramatically and Minho smiles at him, adding another, sinking down to kiss the skin on his throat. Jisung is so used to having Minho bend at his every will and wish, so this feeling of being denied was new. His stomach is twisting in more ways than one now, mind hazy and drunk, eyes screwed shut as he fights off the urge to release.

“You’ve been so good for me,” Minho praises softly, kissing the corner of Jisung’s lips. “I think I can give you what you want now.”

“God, yes. Please, please, please–”

“Greedy baby,” Minho hums, pulling his hand free and kissing him again. Jisung whines in slight protest at his high being denied, listening to the packet being ripped open and watching as it is tossed aside a second later.

“Please, hyung.” Jisung’s hands reach for Minho’s arms, or just anything that he can reach, trying to pull the elder closer. Minho finishes preparing himself, leaning down with the pull of Jisung’s grabby hands, resting on his left elbow. “I just need you so bad.”

“You have me.” Minho promises, kissing him chastely. “All of me.”

Jisung preens, heart swollen, feeling Minho’s right hand hike his thigh back up and around his back. Minho carefully, dotingly, presses himself into Jisung, almost bottoming out with little resistance. Minho leans down on his other elbow, feeling Jisung’s hands wrap around his shoulders. Jisung’s hands tighten their grip for a second, and Minho shoots a glance at him worriedly, halting his movements.

“You okay?” He asks breathily, watching Jisung blink upwards at him, nodding with his eyes lulling shut.

“Yes, yeah. It’s just. . . been awhile.” Jisung breathes, loosening his grip that he realized was growing to be too harsh.

“D’you want me to go slow?” Minho presses a kiss to Jisung’s shoulder, listening to the airy response that leaves Jisung’s lips in the form of a yes. Minho hums a response back, gently beginning to move his hips at a languid pace that sends them both into heavy breathing messes.

Each forward movement curls Jisung’s toes, loving the fact that he can feel Minho in every aspect that he’s always wanted, wondering why they’ve always avoided having sex like this. It’s achingly slow; but it felt so good.

Minho leans up on his arms slightly, feeling Jisung’s back arch with every loving thrust, left hand reaching down to press the younger’s hips down into the bed.

“Keep your hips down, Jisungie.” Minho demands softly, squeezing his hip bone slightly. “Be good for me, hmm?”

Jisung nods, nails digging into Minho’s skin, barely audible noises leaving his throat every couple of seconds. Minho’s hand leaves Jisung’s hip, traveling down to Jisung’s leg that was still down against the mattress, hooking his grip beneath his thigh. He hoists his leg up, just like the other, feeling Jisung automatically lock his ankles together as he moves pelvis to pelvis with Jisung, diving in deeper.

Jisung whines audibly that time, feeling the breath nearly be knocked out of him.

Minho moves his hips tenderly, keeping a slow, loving pace until he feels Jisung’s left hand wrap into his hair and pull, driving a boiling lust to build within his veins. His hips snap forward suddenly, changing the dynamic of their relations without warning, earning a dopey grin on Jisung’s lips as he finally gets what he wanted.

“You want it like that, Jisungie?” Minho snaps his hips forwards again. “Hmm?”

Jisung just groans, fingers curling deeper into Minho’s hair. “Use your words, Jisungie.”

“God, fuck yeah.” Jisung breathily laughs, biting his bottom lip. “Minho–”

He’s cut off by a gutteral whine, trying his best to keep his hips from arching off of the bed. “I want something else too, hyung.”

“What is it?” Minho asks quietly, watching Jisung’s eyes open, burning with lust.

“I wanna ride you.”

Minho eyes him warily, almost unsure, but Jisung pouts his lower lip, doe-eyes growing wide, cheeks flushed with sweat beading down the sides of his face. His lips were red and puffed, nearly bruised from the abuse of being bitten and kissed, eyes hazed with a determination to get whatever he wanted. Who was Minho to deny him? It was a celebration for him, after all.

Minho slows his pace, carefully pulling free of Jisung, moving to lie on his back as quickly as he could manage. Jisung, drunk on the fumes of sex and lust, pushes himself upright, straddling Minho hurriedly; readily.

“Okay hyung?” Jisung asks, a hand reaching behind him to gently take Minho within his palm. Minho nods, hands wrapping onto Jisung’s thighs. “Good.”

Jisung sinks back down onto him, a breath hitching in his throat as he moves, feeling Minho’s fingers curl into his thighs. Jisung leans down, one hand pressed into the mattress, the other on top of Minho’s left hand, craning his lips down until he’s breathing in Minho’s exhales.

“God, I love you.” Minho almost whines, hips tilting upwards, meeting Jisung halfway, hands gripping onto his thighs.

“I love you more–” Jisung breathes with a hum, biting his tongue, cutting off the whine building in the back of his throat.

Jisung grinds his hips languidly, still leaned down, lips hovering over Minho’s, too wrapped up in how it all felt to focus on anything else. Minho’s head tilts back, left hand reaching around to grab Jisung’s ass, squeezing, letting go after a second when he feels Jisung’s teeth grab his bottom lip. Minho moves up and into him, meeting every downward movement with his own, spurring Jisung further into his ascent.

Minho watches as Jisung climbs higher and higher, watching as his hand curls into the sheets, his other struggling to not dig his nails into Minho’s naked skin, teeth biting his bottom lip, eyes snapping shut; Minho loved watching every second of Jisung beginning to unravel.

“I’m not g’na last, Minho,” Jisung tilts his head down again after raising it, brushing his lips across Minho’s in a ghostly kiss, one that Minho tries to chase after but is unsuccessful.

“That’s okay, Jisungie–” Minho finds Jisung’s lips, slotting them with his own in a bruising kiss that turns sloppy after just a few seconds. “Go ahead. Show me how pretty you are.”

Minho’s hands trail up to Jisung’s hips, holding him steady as he grinds into him harder, leaving Jisung no time to ground himself as he comes undone. He whines and groans, knuckles whitening as he grips onto the sheets, breaths hitching; lips seeking refuge with Minho’s immediately after.

Tiredly, Jisung swings a free hand into Minho’s hair, curling and pulling, lips inching away from Minho’s teasingly, hushing sinful words against his lips. “It’s your turn now, hyung.”

Minho’s eyes are lulled, hands gripping and digging small divots into Jisung’s hips and small waist, almost unable to keep himself in control. Jisung tries to grind his hips down, tired and languid, reaching his lips down onto Minho’s throat, biting like a starved vampire.

“Come on, Minho’ah–” Jisung pulls away from a bruising hickey, huffing hot breath against his skin. “You can be good for me, too.”

Minho’s back arches slightly, hips stuttering, eyes screwed shut, finally tilting himself over the edge, only blinking his eyes back open to see Jisung smiling down at him. His hair was a mess, sweat beading down the sides of his face, neck painted in purples and reds; Minho only found it natural to say one thing.

“I’m so obsessed with you.” Minho manages to blurt out breathily, hands slowly loosening their grip on Jisung’s hips. Jisung kisses him slowly, hands raising to cup the sides of his jaw, thumbs stroking his skin tenderly.

“I love you–” Jisung says, kissing him again. “So much.”

“Mm, I love you, too.” Minho kisses him back, one hand dropping away from Jisung’s waist, moving behind himself, gently starting to sit upright. Jisung moves with him, feeling Minho’s other hand wrap around his waist protectively, keeping the younger on his lap as he sits upright completely. Jisung carefully moves his hips upright, sliding off of Minho as they share the same, quiet hiss from oversensitivity. Jisung settles back down after freeing himself, finding his lips seeking out Minho’s again.

“I needed that,” Jisung admits against Minho’s lips.

“Me too.” Minho agrees tiredly, shifting his legs around gently to get comfortable. “I’m really proud of you, by the way.”

“Hmm, I couldn’t tell.” Jisung playfully giggles, watching Minho roll his eyes.

“I mean it, though. I really am.”

“I know. Thank you for everything you did for me with that song. I don’t think it would be out right now if it wasn’t for you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jisungie.” Minho smiles at him. “I’m always gonna do what I can to make you happy.”

“Well, you just being here makes me happy. So don’t ever leave.”

“I’m not going to leave you, ever.” Minho kisses him again, parting with a quiet hum of contentment. “I do need to clean off, though. Are we sleeping here tonight?”

“It’s probably best.” Jisung sighs. “I don’t know if I can walk after that.”

“Oh, shut up.” Minho laughs, watching as Jisung slowly climbs off of him. “Do you need me to get you anything while I’m up?”

“Just water, when you get the chance.” Jisung smiles at him before looking over the edge of the bed, finding his discarded boxers and joggers.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Minho smiles at him, kissing him once more before getting off of the bed, grabbing his own boxers and sweats after tossing Jisung’s discarded bottoms towards him. Minho runs a hand through his sweaty auburn tresses as he walks away, pants and boxers in hand, disappearing into the bathroom as he closes the door behind him. Jisung rises from the bed, pulling his boxers and joggers over his exposed and bruised thighs, snapping both bands to his waist.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Jisung freezes, staring at the front door with his heart falling into his ass. Oh, shit. Was it his landlord?

“Jisung! Open the door!” A familiar voice speaks through the otherside of the wooden door, leaving a confusing feeling to settle into his stomach. Felix?

Jisung strides towards the door, unlocking it and swinging it open, only to find two familiar faces waiting on the other side.

“Hi! Sorry, did we wake you?” Felix asks, holding a pink box in his hands. Jisung stands in shock, shaking his head, almost baffled as he looks at Seungmin, who was standing right next to Felix timidly. “We were just stopping by to celebrate your song. . . why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

Jisung’s eyes widen, hands immediately moving to his chest as he nervously feels over his annoyingly warm skin that was likely covered in bruises and bites. “I uhm–”

“Jisung.” Seungmin raises a brow. “Why are you covered in bruises?”

Jisung feels like he’s going to throw up. “I. . . fell?”

“I’m not sure those are from falling, Jisung. They look an awful lot like hickeys.” Seungmin observes, sticking his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. Felix just stands there idly, holding his box as he listens to the conversation unfold. This couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Seungmin, I’m really happy to see you, but I don’t think right now is the time for this.”

“Why? Do you have some guy over?” Seungmin muses lightly, trying to lighten the mood, but Felix’s face falls. Jisung’s breath catches in his throat, listening as the bathroom door behind him opens. Oh my fucking god. It got worse.

“No, Seungmin, I don’t–”

“Ji? Who’s at the door?” Minho asks as he walks out of the bathroom, washcloth in hand.

Jisung watches Seungmin’s face fall suddenly, jaw tightening and eyes boiling with anger. Jisung couldn’t see it beyond the fabric of Seungmin’s hoodie, but he was sure that Seungmin’s hands were balled into fists with white-bleeding knuckles.

“I thought you two were over.” Seungmin looks at Jisung, betrayal sinking into his voice.

“We were!” Jisung tries to reason, looking to Felix for help. Felix stays quiet.

“Have you both been lying to me this entire time?” Seungmin looks at Felix, watching as his gaze falls further towards the floor. “He’s been fucking Minho this entire time and you said nothing?”

“I told him not to! We were trying to figure out a way to tell you because I didn’t want this exact thing to happen!” Jisung can feel Minho’s eyes boring into his back, and Jisung wishes Minho would’ve just stayed in the bathroom.

“You’re unbelievable.” Seungmin says as he looks at Jisung, eyes looking at Felix now, tears building in his eyes. “I can’t fucking believe this?! You said we could come over here and I could try to make amends with him and rebuild our friendship, so what the fuck is this?”

“I didn’t know Minho would be here, Minnie. Please trust that. I had no idea.”

“I didn’t tell him that I was with Minho, Seungmin. I told him I was going to bed.” Jisung reasons again, but Seungmin just shakes his head and takes two steps backwards.

“Fuck the both of you.” Seungmin mutters as he walks off, leaving Jisung standing with his door open and Felix in front of him, shakily holding the pink box.

“I should’ve texted you, Ji.” Felix sighs. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You didn’t know that Minho was here. I should’ve told you. This isn’t your fault.”

“We got you a cake,” Felix passes the box over with a broken voice, hands falling to his sides afterwards. “I’ll call you in the morning. It was nice to see you, Minho.” Felix waves as he walks away dejectedly, leaving Jisung holding the cake box in front of his open door with his mouth gaped.

“Jisung?” Minho asks quietly, walking closer.

“Fuck.” Jisung’s breath hitches and Minho immediately closes the distance between them.

“Alright, hey–” Minho wraps an arm around his waist, pulling his back towards his chest, the other hand closing the front door with a soft slam. “Give me this.”

Minho takes the cake box and moves it over towards the kitchen island, setting it down before returning to Jisung and wrapping him in a proper hug. Jisung’s arms slowly rise to hug him back, heart thumping against his chest anxiously. He’s still processing what the fuck just happened, mind in the gutter with shaky hands.

“It’s alright, Ji. Just breathe.” Minho coos, pressing a few kisses into Jisung’s head, gently rocking them back and forth with subtle motions.

“What were they even doing here? What the fuck was that?” Jisung says, almost flabbergasted.

“I don’t know. Felix had good intentions, from what it sounds like.” Minho sighs, listening to Jisung’s breath hitch. “It’s not your fault, Jisung. Do not take any of this as your fault.”

“How can I not?” Jisung mutters, leaning further into Minho’s chest.

“Jisung. . . I understand that Seungmin is one of your closest friends, but if he were really your friend right now, he would try to accept your feelings.”

“You can’t just expect him to forgive what we did, Minho.” Jisung pulls away suddenly, tears sinking down the curve of his cheeks.

“No, I can’t. But I can expect him to be an adult and just hear you out. He’s acting like we murdered someone when all we did was have sex.”

“Behind his back.” Jisung raises his brow. “That’s the part you're forgetting.”

“I get that. But he can’t crucify us for what’s happening. He can’t tell you who to love and who not to love, Ji. It’s not fair. It’s controlling.”

Jisung swallows, eyes searching Minho’s gaze confusingly. The word controlling had more impact than Jisung realized, suddenly allowing the weight of the word to settle into his skin. “Is he. . . is he really like that?”

“Maybe not intentionally.” Minho softens the blow, hands trying to pull Jisung closer by his lower back. “He’s just doing it because he’s hurting. I don’t think he realizes how selfish he’s acting.”

“I think he still loves you deep down, Minho.” Jisung sniffles, hand reaching up to wipe his tears away. “Maybe the fact that he can’t have you but I can is making it worse.”

“Give him time.” Minho assures. “We can try to talk to him soon. Or, well, you can. I don’t know how much he wants to talk to me right now.”

“I’ll call Felix tomorrow and try to figure out where to go from here.” Jisung sighs, stepping closer until he can hide his face in the crook of Minho’s neck, arms wrapping loosely around the elder’s upper back.

“Think you feel okay enough to sleep? Or do you want to do something to get your mind off of it?”

“I just wanna lay down.” Jisung murmurs, feeling Minho’s hand drag soothing lines down his spine.

“Okay. Let’s go to bed, then.” Minho kisses the side of his head then his cheek. “But if you can’t sleep, wake me up and I’ll stay awake with you.”

“Are you sure?” Jisung pulls away from the hug, watching as Minho’s hand raises to brush strands of hair from his eyes.

“I’m so sure.” Minho smiles at him softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I love you. Please, if you’re going to choose to remember anything from tonight, please remember that I love you. Okay?”

“I know.” Jisung smiles at him subtly. “I love you, too.”

Jisung does stay awake almost the entire night, listening to Minho sleep soundly next to him without issue. He isn’t exactly sure how to feel, now seeing both sides of the argument clearly, wondering if he was just conforming to Seungmin’s views because he didn’t want to lose him and hurting himself in the process. His relationship with Minho didn’t have to be so hard, but Jisung somehow finds himself wondering if Seungmin had different motives behind his actions. Seungmin isn’t a cruel person by any means, he looked out for Jisung the most, and maybe that was all there was to it. Minho cheated before and he lied, so maybe Seungmin just wanted what was best for his best friend and was looking out for him? Jisung isn’t too fond of that belief, as much as he tries to comfort himself with the thought of it, he instead focuses on the fact that Seungmin might possibly still love Minho and resents Jisung for ruining their chance at getting back together.

It’s all a long shot, all bound with little evidence that Jisung can only support with his own ideals. But he stares up at the wall ahead of him, hand wrapped around Minho’s with the elder cuddled behind him, listening to his computer hum quietly as they rest. He wonders if these feelings will go away, or if he’s going to have to bury them the same way he buried his longing for Minho months ago.

Chapter Text

“So. . . tell me why you were so desperate to meet with me?” Seungmin asks, hands folded against the table, an unamused glare tinted within his eyes.

“We need to straighten all of this out.” Minho says warily, holding an almost empty cup of iced coffee in his hand. “Jisung is really broken up about all of this, and I can’t stand to see him like that anymore.”

“He did it to himself by lying to me.”

“Please.” Minho rolls his eyes. “I dated you for two years, Seungmin. I think I know you pretty damn well. You’re not going to sit here and lie to me by saying that you don’t care about how Jisung feels.”

“You don’t know anything about me anymore, Minho. You lost the right to know anything about me when you put your dick in someone else.”

“Okay, enough.” Minho sighs, leaning forward in his chair. “First of all, we’re in public. So please lose the attitude. Secondly, I do know you, whether you want to admit it or not. You’ve never been so cold and hateful like this. You care too much about others to truthfully act like this.”

“There’s been a lot of changes in the last couple of years that you wouldn’t know about.” Seungmin drawls, eyes avoiding. “I’ve been alone and working nonstop. A repetitive cycle that bores me to death, but I come back to life whenever Jisung needs me. I’ve always been there for him and I do care about him a lot, that’s not a lie. But can you really blame me for being so angry?”

“No. I can’t. But be angry at me. Not him. He really didn’t know about us, well, the whole truth of it. I never told him how long we dated or how serious we were. I didn’t tell him that we lived together and loved each other the way we did. He knew none of it. I just told him, before we got too deep with one another, that we dated previously so he knew there was history between us.”

“Why would you not tell him all of it?” Seungmin raises a brow, voice a little lower; curious, almost.

“I didn’t think it was important, and I didn’t think it was his business. At the time, I thought we were just going to sleep together and call it a day. I didn’t expect to get so wrapped into his life the way I did. We were just compatible in that way. There was nothing about it that led me to believe that he and I would end up where we are now.”

“Where are you guys at now?” Seungmin’s voice is suddenly quieter, almost shaky.

Minho takes a breath, thinking of the best way to tell him this, but he shrugs his shoulders and decides against lying anymore. “We’ve been together for two months. I’m sorry to tell you like this, Seungmin, but there’s just no reason for me to hide it from you anymore. I love him a lot, and I found it hard to ignore how I felt about him anymore.”

“God.” Seungmin’s voice breaks, but he takes a steady breath with his eyes avoiding Minho, still.

“I’m sorry. But, Seungmin–” Minho treads carefully, voice calm and mellow. “You can’t tell Jisung who he can and can’t be with. It’s just not fair.”

“I know, I know.” Seungmin bites his bottom lip, leaning into the press of his chair with his head slightly tilted back, holding tears at bay. “He’s just the last person I’d ever expect to do this.”

“He didn’t do it out of spite or anything cruel, Seungmin. He was just listening to what he wanted. Is that so bad? Is it so wrong of him to just go after something he wants?”

“No. It’s not. I just hate that he chose you of all people.”

“Why? There’s nothing between us anymore. You told Jisung yourself that you had no intention of getting back together with me.”

“I lied!” Seungmin’s voice raises out of nowhere, head tilting back down and eyes boring into Minho with bridging tears. “I fucking lied to you. Even though you fucked me over and cheated on me all those years ago, I found it hard to move on from you. Why do you think I’ve spent so much time single and alone?”

“I don’t know–”

“I lied to Jisung about the bar. I knew you worked there. I knew you’d be working when we went. I reached out to Hyunjin just to ask if you’d be working. . . and sure as shit, there you were. I just wanted to see you, that was all. I didn’t want to talk or anything, but I just wanted to see if you were okay. But the minute I saw you at your shift change. . . I panicked. I left the bar, and that gave Jisung the green light to talk to you.”

“Seungmin.” Minho sighs, head tilting down. “I’m not worth all of this. What I did to you is not okay.”

“I know. But to me, you were worth everything. I learned how to love myself because of you.”

“Seungmin–”

“Just shut up for a damn minute, Minho. Shit.” Seungmin swallows haphazardly, looking up and blinking away his tears. “I don’t want us to work out. I don’t expect us to get back together and be magically in love. I was an idiot for thinking that. I’m dating Chris now, and he’s really helped me heal through it. All I’ve ever wanted from either of you was to be fucking honest. I don’t know if I would’ve reacted differently or the same, I just don’t know. But. . . I would’ve been more forgiving. All of the sneaking around, letting everyone else in on the secret but me is terrible. Do you know how that feels?”

“I can imagine.”

“It feels like shit.” Seungmin’s words have more bite than he intended, but Minho doesn’t fault him for it. “I want our group to be friends. I want to be able to be around you and have no hate in my heart for you. It might take time, but I want to be able to coexist and be able to see you happy with Jisung. I don’t wanna argue like this forever.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Seungmin. I just want you to talk to Jisung.”

“That, I–” Seungmin takes a steady breath. “I can do that. I can call him.”

“I’ll take it. I’m sorry that this happened like this. I didn’t want all of this to be awkward anymore.”

“It’s. .  It's okay. It might take some time for me to accept that you two are together, but I can work on it. I’m sorry for being so hostile and everything. . . I was just in shock and–”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I get it. I’m just glad we’re here, now.”

“Yeah.” Seungmin wipes away any remnants of tears, taking in a soft breath to calm his nerves, almost thankful for the peace cooling over the tension that once lingered.

“Can I buy you a coffee this time?” Minho asks hesitantly, but to his surprise, Seungmin nods.

“Yeah, actually. That sounds nice.”

“Jisung’ah–” Minho calls as he walks in the front door of his apartment, immediately greeted by the pitter-pattered trio of cats meowing at him.

“Hi, hi.” he coos at his cats gently, setting down his keys and taking off his shoes, strolling further into the apartment. “I’m back from the studio!”

The apartment is oddly silent. Minho takes an uneasy breath, moving away from the kitchen and towards the living space, eyes searching the surrounding room for any sight of his partner. He continues inward, walking towards his bedroom until he finds the door ajar and the room cast in darkness. Minho opens the door slightly, peering inside, eyes scanning the room until he finally sees Jisung sitting on the edge of the bed facing the windows, breathing silently.

“Ji?” Minho quietly asks, walking carefully closer until he reaches the bed, crawling onto the mattress behind Jisung. The younger still doesn’t answer, gaze glued to the windows, barely moving when he feels Minho kneel behind him, wrapping his arms around his torso. “What’s going on?”

“Seungmin called me.” Jisung mutters quietly, hand reaching up to hold onto one of Minho’s wrists.

“Did he?” Minho tries to act surprised, given that his meeting with Seungmin was supposed to be a secret.

“He called to apologize.” Jisung’s voice is quiet and Minho barely hears him.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, I just–” Jisung sighs, gaze drifting away from the windows. “I want to be happy about this. I just can’t be.”

“Are you still holding onto that resentment?”

“A bit.” Jisung leans into Minho’s hold on him slightly, seeking comfort as he struggles to let the words fall free from his tongue. “I think I just need time to get over it.”

“Well–” Minho mumbles. “I talked to Seungmin this morning. After last night, I found it hard to just sit and watch you two argue because of me. I called Seungmin and asked him to meet me again so I could explain what happened.”

“So you’re the reason he called me?”

“Yeah. After we came back here to my apartment this morning, I left early before work so I could talk to him. I just didn’t honestly expect him to call you so soon.”

“Well, he did.” Jisung says almost dejectedly and Minho feels guilt swell in his stomach. “Thank you for looking out for me though, Minho. I think things will be better now, I just might need some time to get over it all.”

“That’s perfectly fine.” Minho hums, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s neck. “As long as you’re okay.”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Jisung turns his head towards Minho, his other hand reaching up to grab onto Minho’s other wrist.

“You hungry?” Minho asks quietly, watching Jisung nod at him. “I’ll make you something. C’mon.”

Jisung willingly follows Minho into the kitchen, quietly cooing at the cats as he passes by, planting his ass on the cold island counter the moment he finds it. Minho searches through his cabinets, grabbing out a few ingredients before searching through other cupboards to find pans.

Jisung’s phone suddenly starts vibrating in his pocket as he sits there, watching Minho curiously, sighing when he reaches into his pocket to pull his phone free.

Felix

Hyunjin wants to throw a surprise joint birthday party for Chan and Minho this weekend. I told him I’d help plan, but I thought I’d ask you about it too.

Jisung looks up, watching Minho continue to busy himself with preparing their dinner, almost unaware of Jisung mindlessly typing away on his phone.

Yeah, let’s do it. Everyone’s coming, right?

Felix

Oh yeah. I’ve already invited Seungmin and my friends from college. I’ve thought about inviting some of Minho’s older friends that Hyunjin told me about, but I’m not too sure if I will.

He’d like that, I think. Where are we doing this?

Felix

The nightclub. Hyunjin has an in with the owner, so we can rent out a private room.

Ah. Okay. It’s where I met up with Minho months ago, right?

Felix

Yes. I’ll let you know the details more when Hyunjin talks to the owner. He should call him when he gets home from work later.

You guys are living together now?

Felix

Ha, no. He just spends the night here some days.

Are you and Minho living together?

Jisung looks up towards Minho again, smiling fondly when he hears him humming as he cooks.

You could say that. I’m basically getting kicked out of my apartment, so I think I’m just gonna crash with Minho until I can get a new place.

Felix

I think he’d just rather live with you. I mean you’re already doing it, are you not?

At this point, yeah. I just didn’t want to rush the relationship. Moving in with Seungmin was the whole reason they broke up.

Felix

You guys have a different bond, though. Talk to him about it. See what he thinks?

Could be a cute birthday present for him.

You’re a terrible influence on me.

But you have a point.

“Who are you texting?” Minho looks over his shoulder to ask, brow raised curiously. 

“Felix.” Jisung looks up to meet his gaze, smiling at him. “Why?”

“You were smiling at your phone.” Minho turns back around, stirring the pasta in his pot of boiling water.

“He was just asking me something I never thought about.”

“Which is what?”

“I basically live with you.” Jisung watches Minho’s shoulders stiffen, and he winces, almost worried to keep talking. “We haven’t really talked about me losing my apartment yet.”

“Well,” Minho shrugs. “It doesn’t bother me. I like having you around all the time.”

“But what if I stayed here permanently for a bit? I can always find my own place later down the road, I just have to save up money and stuff.”

“You can stay here as long as you’d like.” Minho puts down his spoon, turning around to face Jisung. “I’ll admit, I am a bit worried about you staying with me since we haven’t been together long, but I’m not gonna tell you no.”

“I can store most of my shit in Felix’s storage unit that he has. I just would want my desk and my computer. . . maybe a guitar or two. Oh! Maybe half of my clothes–”

Minho cuts him off by kissing him, hands cupping his jaw as he tenderly kisses his lips, stealing the words from his tongue. “Whatever you want. As long as you’re here, then I don’t care.”

Jisung kisses him again, thighs spreading, ankles moving behind Minho’s lower back as he pulls him closer, trapped between his legs and stuck to his lips, laughing quietly against him.

“Go stir the pasta,” Jisung giggles, ankles releasing Minho tentatively, hands finding his shoulders as he gently shoves him.

“Don’t feel like it.” Minho presses closer again, kissing him once more.

“But I’m hungry–” Jisung laughs, pulling away with redness coating his cheeks. “Please go stir the pasta before it boils over.”

“Fine.” Minho says dramatically with a huff, turning away and returning to his boiling pot, grabbing his spoon to continue stirring to avoid the noodles sticking together.

Jisung watches him for a moment, knowing how grossly smitten he was for him, reaching for his phone again to look for any more text messages from Felix, but sees nothing. Minho continues humming, stirring momentarily before searching in his cabinets for something else, leaving Jisung to watch him fondly with his heart fluttering.

He was happy here, now finally at peace with all of the sudden changes that came about his life. Seungmin was in his life again, Minho was finally his, and he released the one song he never imagined finishing in the first place. It was all coming together. All of the pieces of his puzzle were finally meshing and no longer missing, leaving him to just put it together himself. He was excited for this birthday party, hoping that his lingering resentment for Seungmin would die down by then, praying that they could collectively come together to make sure Chris and Minho enjoyed their party without worry, and Jisung uses that thought to keep him happy and hopeful for the next few days.

Saturday comes around the corner quicker than Jisung realized. Minho had helped him deconstruct his computer and all of his equipment on Thursday, transferring over anything he wanted into his apartment before hiring the help of Hyunjin and Felix to move the rest of Jisung’s useless stuff into Felix’s storage unit. It was an all day task, and Jisung immediately climbed into bed afterwards to sleep through the night without protest.

Now, with an entire day spent organizing with Minho’s help behind him, Jisung is sitting on the couch, waiting for Minho to come home from work. He claimed that he needed to choreograph the rest of a dance and should only be a couple of hours, but Jisung eyes the time and clocks Minho’s studio time at four hours already. He was a hard worker, and he was dedicated, Jisung would give him that. He just selfishly wanted him home.

Before he can rumble into too many thoughts, his phone rings, and he can only assume who it was.

“Hi Felix.”

“What are you up to?”

“Waiting for Minho to get home. He’s at the studio.”

“I know. I sent Hyunjin to go distract him for a bit and to set up the bait.”

“What bait?”

“Hyunjin is going to try and convince Minho to take you out to the nightclub to celebrate Want So Bad. I just hope he buys into it.”

“Well, he should. I mean Minho and I are the only ones who have celebrated it.”

“You guys celebrated the release of it, not the success of it.” Felix smiles through his tone, and Jisung immediately smiles too.

It was true that Want So Bad was doing amazingly as a single, and Jisung was incredibly proud of it. The revenue from the song saved his financial stability, bringing better income than anything else ever had.  He really could’ve stayed in his apartment, but living with Minho sounded way more inviting.

“He should believe it, then.”

“I think he will too. Hyunjin is supposed to text me soon, so, if all goes well we should be meeting at the nightclub around ten.”

“Okay. I’ll plan for that–” Jisung’s attention is turned towards the front door when he hears keys be pushed into the lock. “Oh shit, he’s home.”

“Okay. Act surprised if he tells you anything!”

“Will do!” Jisung ends the call quickly, watching the door open with Minho walking inside.

“Jagiya,” Minho hums as he makes eye contact with Jisung, closing the door and kicking off his shoes.

“Hi,” Jisung says sweetly, resting his elbow against the arm of the couch as his chin leans into his palm. “How was work?”

“I got what I needed to do done, so that’s all that matters.” Minho sighs tiredly, walking into the living space.

“That’s good. You look kinda sweaty, hyung.” Jisung smiles at him as he approaches.

“I know. I’ve gotta take a shower.” Minho reaches to grab Jisung’s hand, holding it gently within his own, thumb smoothing over the back of the younger’s hand. “I do have to run something past you, though.”

“Uh oh.” Jisung tilts his head slightly, looking up at Minho.

“It’s not bad.” Minho rolls his eyes. “Hyunjin came to visit me while I was at the studio.”

“That’s nice of him.” Jisung moves his hand back, palm resting against Minho’s, slowly intertwining their grasp.

“He wants to go out to celebrate you.”

“Oh?” Jisung feigns with surprise, a look of intrigue settled on his expression. “Why me?”

“Because Want So Bad is doing really well. It’s your most popular track and you deserve to be celebrated.” Minho affirms lightly, watching Jisung’s ears turn red. Little did Minho know, he was being celebrated instead, and as much as Jisung wants to turn back and say you deserve to be celebrated more than I do, he doesn’t. Just for the sake of the secret.

“You’re flustering me.” Jisung says quietly, leaning backwards until his head greets the back of the couch.

“It’s what I do best.” Minho smiles at him, leaning down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I need to shower. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“M’kay.” Jisung lets go of Minho’s hand, using his now free hand to catch Minho’s chin within his grasp gently. Minho looks down at him, obediently following Jisung’s pull on him as he presses a few languid kisses to Jisung’s lips. “You’re free to go now.”

“Uh-huh. I see how it is.” Minho scoffs at him, leaning away and heading towards his en-suite, leaving Jisung alone on the couch.

Jisung settles in and continues watching his show mindlessly, listening to Minho turn on the shower and turn it off almost ten minutes later. Jisung sighs audibly, sinking into the couch, reaching for the blanket he discarded an hour ago, pulling it back over his legs as the air conditioning cools his skin. Soonie, who was lying on the opposite end of the couch, watched curiously, ears perked and eyes slightly lidded, almost as if Jisung had woken him up.

“Sorry,” Jisung whispers, adjusting his legs and tucking the blanket to how he wanted it before patting the cushion beside him, hoping that the cat would walk over and curl up behind his folded legs. Soonie doesn’t move, and Jisung turns his gaze back towards the television.

Jisung feels his phone buzz in his lap again, stirring his attention to his dimmed screen before unlocking it and opening his messages with Felix.

Felix

He bought it. We’ll see you at ten!

See you then!

Jisung tucked his phone away for the moment as he listened to Minho rustle around inside the bedroom, most likely looking for clothes.

“Han’ah?” Minho calls from the bedroom, which pulls Jisung’s attention towards the empty hall.

“What Minho?”

“Come here a sec.” Minho calls lightly, and Jisung begrudgingly throws the blanket off of his legs. He rises from the couch and makes his way down the hall, turning the corner and stepping into the bedroom, watching as Minho turns around to meet his gaze. Two shirts were laying on the bed, still on their hangers, purposely laid out to make a decision between the two. Minho was already wearing dark denim jeans with slight rips at the knee, but he stared at the shirts on the bed with an expressionless gaze.

“What’s up?” Jisung steps closer, eyeing the shirts curiously.

“I don’t know what to wear.” Minho laughs at himself. “I’m being overly dramatic about this. But, it’s your night and I don’t wanna dress too casually.”

Jisung wants to interfere and let Minho in on the secret again, but he swallows the urge and keeps it to himself. “Well, did they tell you where we’re going?”

“I don’t wanna ruin the surprise, but we're going back to that nightclub.”

“The one you asked me to meet you at?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Well, you’re going to want to wear something a bit revealing but something that’s easy to move in–” Jisung says with interest, eyes looking over the shirts Minho had pulled from his closet. “Let me go look. I don’t think these are the right vibe.”

“Vibe?” Minho asks with a smile.

“Mhm. Trust me.” Jisung strolls away, heading through the en-suite and towards his walk-in closet, turning on the light as he scans the room for anything that would quite literally jump out at him. He wants his boyfriend to look attractive, not that he wasn’t on his own, but a revealing button-up would do the trick. Honestly, anything that Jisung could force Minho into that had a lower, revealing collar would do just fine.

His hands gently touch different shirts in Minho’s smaller selection, perusing through option after option until the shirt he reaches for on the fifth try catches his attention. It’s a black half-sleeve with a zipper that only runs down nearly half of the shirt, exposing more or less of the person’s chest as desired. It’s simple, tight fitting, and everything Jisung wants to see on Minho.

“We have a winner.” Jisung says as he strolls back into the bedroom, holding the shirt proudly in his hands.

“God, you picked the shirt I like to wear if I need more tips at the bar.” Minho laughs, listening to Jisung gasp.

“Well, god, I wonder why you get more tips?” Jisung laughs, handing over the shirt.

“Stop it.” Minho takes the shirt into his hands, inspecting it for a moment before looking up at Jisung again. “You really want me to wear this?”

“You did say the party was for me.” Jisung pouts his lip, knowing very well that he could get what he wanted by saying that and acting the way he was, simply just because he was Jisung, and Minho was just weak for him like that.

“Fine.” Minho gives in incredibly easily, beginning to put the shirt on after Jisung’s eyes trail down and catch a glimpse of a scar on the lower right of his abdomen. He’s seen it before several times, but has barely asked the history behind the scar. It was vertical down the right side of his abs, just visible enough to protrude over his skin. It looked older, but it made Jisung all that much more curious as Minho pulled his shirt down and covered it, dragging Jisung’s eyes away and back into reality, blinking three times.

“Minho?” Jisung looks upright, catching the elder’s attention easily. Minho doesn’t answer, he just looks at him and waits, silently pleading for Jisung to continue. “You never told me about that scar.”

“Oh.” Minho’s hand flies towards his stomach, hovering over the area where the scar remained. “There’s not much to tell.”

“It’s a big scar, hyung. Did something happen?”

“Yeah, a long time ago. I was really young so I don’t remember a lot of the details.”

“I’m sorry.” Jisung frowns slightly, taking a step towards Minho, hands reaching to wrap around the elder’s waist.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s just a scar.”

“Well, I like it. I’ve always liked scars, honestly, it shows a person’s strength in a time of pain. You lived through whatever happened, and that alone is really beautiful to me.”

“You’re really sentimental right now, Jisung.” Minho eyes him cautiously. “What else do you want me to do?”

“I’m being serious!” Jisung smacks his side with a playful smile. “I don’t want you to be self conscious about it or anything.”

“I used to be. I’ve got no reason to be, now.” Minho smiles at him, his own hands trailing to grab Jisung’s small waist. Jisung’s hand reaches upwards, grabbing Minho’s shirt by the zipper, tugging it down until it reaches the end, then pulling on it until Minho comes closer, nearly chest to chest with the younger.

“Lee Minho–” Jisung says softly. “You will never have to think like that with me around.”

“I know, Han Jisung.” Minho teases back, hands holding onto Jisung’s waist tighter.

“I’d really like to know the story behind that scar though.” Jisung’s head tilts and Minho watches him fondly, inching closer.

“Someday. Not right now, though. It’s. . . a bad memory.”

“I know. At your pace.” Jisung assures, also inching closer now.

“Thank you.” Minho smiles at him, moving in to press a gentle, tender kiss to his lips, still holding the younger by his waistline.

“You’re welcome.” Jisung says the moment they part, hand slowly letting go of Minho’s zipper. “Keep that down, by the way.”

“The zipper? Why?”

“Because I said so.” Jisung smiles at him, leaning away. “I wanna get drunk with you tonight and come home and celebrate again.”

“Celebrate?” Minho eyes him curiously; confused. Then, the memory hits him. “Oh.”

“Mhm.” Jisung bites his lower lip, pressing a finger into his chest gently.

“What time is it right now?” Minho asks, pulling Jisung closer to him with a mischievous smile.

“No, Minho! Not right now–” Jisung laughs, smacking at his wrists. “We have a bit before we have to leave. Let’s just go watch anime and carb-load. Gotta eat before we drink, right?”

“Fine, fine.” Minho releases his grasp on Jisung’s waist, letting the younger turn around to head back into the living space, but not before smacking his ass. “I’m ordering pizza.”

“Ready?” Minho asks, hand tangled with Jisung’s.

“Yeah. Just lead me through the crowd, please.” Jisung says quietly, hand gripping onto Minho’s nervously.

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry.” Minho promises, leading the younger into the ever familiar nightclub. Minho strolls to the back, passing through partying customers with loud music traveling overhead, purple and blue lights dancing around stumbling bodies. The air slightly smells like a mix of vodka and rum, but Minho lives for it. People are yelling and dancing, some of them singing, and others are standing to the side, watching the chaos unfold with tequila in hand. Jisung is huddled behind Minho, eyes glued to the floor, holding Minho’s hand like his life depended on it.

It’s a long two minutes before Minho taps Jisung’s hand with his thumb within their entangled hold, reaching a red rope with a bouncer standing nearby. Jisung peels his gaze upwards, letting the anxiety sink into the floor, swallowing it for the sake of Minho’s surprise party. Minho talks to the rather intimidating bouncer, telling him that they were with Hyunjin, to which the bouncer pressed something on his radio and muttered some words that Jisung didn’t pay attention to, watching as he waited for confirmation. Eventually, the bouncer raises the red rope and tells them to head towards the first room. There were stairs ahead of them, layered with a long, luxurious red carpet that was trimmed in black and gold, hiding the dark wooden steps beneath its hem. Minho and Jisung start climbing up a few steps before a voice beckons behind them.

“Oh, hey! Wait!” Someone calls to them, two sets of footsteps quickening.

Jisung and Minho turn around, still hand in hand, only to see Chris and Seungmin right behind them.

“God, you scared me.” Minho laughs, smiling at Chris. Jisung smiles at Seungmin, and to his surprise, Seungmin smiles back at him.

“Sorry, sorry.” Chris looks at the bouncer, waiting for approval before ascending the stairs behind Minho and Jisung.

Minho glances at Jisung briefly, gauging his reaction to seeing Seungmin, finding peace in knowing that he was smiling and not at all anxious from what he could see.

“Congrats on the song, Jisung.” Chris says happily as he approaches with Seungmin in tow, and Jisung smiles at him, too.

“Thank you.”

“Let’s get to the party, shall we?” Minho says, squeezing Jisung’s hand encouragingly, leading the small group up the rest of the small, red-carpeted staircase until they reach the landing and turn the corner, only to find a lengthy hall with several doors on the left side. Minho heads towards the first door like he was told, hand on the handle as he turns it downwards, opening the door to reveal a private room stocked with gold decorations and a view that overlooks the entire nightclub. The lights were low, music bass-boosted but low enough to be able to talk comfortably within the room. ‘Happy Birthday’ was strung across the ceiling in large, balloon letters that were shining gold, littered with confetti and streamers all over the ceiling and floor. Alcohol was laid out in large bottles across the bar to the left, stocked with enough plastic cups and a tray of ice to keep them content. Minho stands in shock, confused and wordless, looking around the room for an answer as to why they were celebrating a birthday rather than Jisung’s song.

“Surprise!” Hyunjin yells, a bottle of soju in his hand, Felix’s waist wrapped in the other.

“Happy Birthday Minho and Chan!” Felix shouts after, a smile beaming across his face.

Minho looks at Jisung, a growing smile plaguing his lips to match his shocked expression. “Did you know about this?!”

“Of course I did.” Jisung laughs. “I helped them plan it.”

Minho kisses him with haste, humming happily as he listens to Hyunjin yell something about their kiss in front of them. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, it was Hyunjin’s idea. I just thought that you deserved to see how much people care about you.”

“I love you.” Minho says quietly, only for Jisung to hear, though he wasn’t sure if he cared if the others heard anyway. He kisses him again. “Thank you.”

“I love you too, Minho.” Jisung smiles at him. “Let’s get drunk, hmm?”

“Let’s.” Minho assures, turning towards Hyunjin with a smile on his lips. “You fucker! C’mere.”

Jisung lets go of Minho’s hand, watching the elder walk off towards his friend, faking love aggression towards him as he yells and lovingly teases him. Jisung rolls his eyes, walking over to Felix who had roamed to the room’s bar nearby.

“He’s really happy.” Jisung says quietly as he reaches Felix’s side, hand grabbing for a bottle of chilled soju.

“I can tell he is.” Felix hums, eyes catching a glimpse of Jisung’s hands. “Mm-mm. Do a shot with me.”

“Of what?”

“Vodka. They have a good brand here and I don’t want to do a shot alone.”

“Fine, fine.” Jisung grabs a shot glass from the tray, placing it down to the one Felix had already grabbed, listening as someone besides him also grabbed one.

“Can I join you two?” Seungmin asks, fingers toying with the plastic shot glass in his hand.

Felix looks to Jisung worriedly, but Jisung smiles and nods. “Yeah. Obviously. We’re a trio, afterall.”

“Let’s do it then.” Felix pours them each a shot, setting the bottle down before grabbing his plastic glass and raising it into the air, gently cheersing with the other two. “To getting absolutely wasted tonight and having fun!”

“Amen.” Jisung tilts the liquid back over his tongue, wincing slightly, setting the glass down with a huffed breath. “Dear god, you were right. That shit is good.”

“I’m never wrong, Jisung.” Felix laughs, pointing to the bottle. “We can go again?”

“Jesus.” Jisung looks at Seungmin, who for once, just shrugs. “Alright. One more.”

They do another round, giggling afterwards, laughing at the fact that Jisung nearly missed his mouth when he tilted that one back, feeling vodka drip down the corner of his lips and towards his chin.

Laughter breaks out behind them, which stirs them all to start laughing, unsure at what they were even laughing at. But this all felt normal. This was safe. Jisung may not have completely forgiven Seungmin, and the same was true for the reverse, but it was a start.

Jisung strolls over to his boyfriend with two bottles of soju in hand, watching as Minho opens his arm automatically for him as he talks with Hyunjin and Chris, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s shoulders when he is close enough. Jisung hands him a bottle of soju that he takes without hesitating, laughing at something Hyunjin had said. Jisung presses a kiss to Minho’s cheek, then towards his jaw, leaning away with a hum when he feels Minho’s hand grip onto his shoulder just barely.

“Jagiya–” Minho calls quietly, stirring Jisung’s attention up towards him. “D’you wanna go dance with us?”

Jisung nods his head, biting his bottom lip and letting it go just as fast. “Yeah.”

Minho takes a drink of his soju before setting it down, hand tangling with Jisung’s as he leads the younger back down the familiar hall with their friends following behind them. Jisung is a giggling mess, already feeling the sting of the vodka sinking into his veins, following Minho without a single ounce of hesitation. They walk into the crowd, finding the illuminated dance floor surrounded by a horde of dancing bodies, melding right into the middle of it with Hyunjin and Felix not too far behind. Changbin and Jeongin, friends of Felix’s, also are following in tandem, laughing at one another as they dance too. Jisung lets himself melt into the atmosphere, allowing the alcohol to swim into his bloodstream, destroying any single tremble of anxiety left within him, swaying his hips and biting his tongue, laughing at Minho all the same.

The night continues at a fast pace, lead with alcohol as they frequent the bar within their suite and the bar downstairs, drinking bottle after bottle, downing shots of high-percentage soju to soak their tongues and infect their brains, leading them all to become tipsy incredibly fast. Jisung is slurring his speech, cheeks flushed, eyes reddened, but has never felt better. Minho watches him carefully, keeping a protective eye over him even if he was stumbling over his own feet, too.

Felix grabs Jisung’s wrists out of nowhere, dragging his friend with him to the dance floor as he demands to dance with him, leaving their boyfriends to stand and watch, eyes focused on the bodies they both grew to love and appreciate.

Jisung makes daring eye contact with Minho then, swaying his hips and waist, allowing the shirt he was wearing to ride upwards to expose his flat, toned stomach. Jisung knew that Minho was staring at him and struggling to remain complacent, but he loved the attention. He was wearing a tight knit-gray shirt with longer sleeves that was frayed at the bottom with a hole in the center of his chest. His jeans were baggy and frayed, held with a tight belt against his annoyingly small waist. Jisung’s hair was messy and slightly curly; every single detail was aimed to drive Minho crazy in a drunken stupor, and he was sure that his plan was working.

Jisung continues to dance with Felix in tandem, grinding and rolling his stomach with giggles leaving his tongue, smiling at Felix when they turn to face each other, knowing how truly drunk they both were becoming. The song suddenly ends and the DJ starts anew, mixing a new track that suddenly interrupts Jisung and Felix’s duet, but sends them both stumbling back towards their boyfriends.

“Was I good, Minho’ah?” Jisung giggles, blinking up at him.

“Way too good.” Minho breathes, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Jisung leans closer to his ear, a smile curled to his lips. “Show me how good I’m being for you.”

Chapter Text

Jisung is pressed into the bathroom wall in a flash, lips chasing sloppy kisses that Minho presses into him with haste. They were still at the nightclub, drunk and hungry, lustfully kissing one another with quiet groans passed between each hitched breath. Jisung’s hands needily tug at Minho’s jeans, hands finding his zipper as he pulls it down, smiling against Minho’s lips when he hears the elder groan.

Jisung knew he’d be embarrassed tomorrow, thinking about having drunk sex with his boyfriend in a nightclub bathroom of all places, but he really couldn’t be fucked to care right now. He was completely drunk and teetering on the edge of incoherence, but he’s never been more clear-minded in what he wants.

“Jisung–” Minho breaks between kisses, his own hands struggling to stay complacent on Jisung’s waist. “I don’t have anything with me.”

“I don’t care,” Jisung whines. “Just want you.”

“I know, jagi, I know.” Minho hums, kissing him again. “Someone could walk in on us, though.”

“Minho–” Jisung tilts his head, trying to jut out his bottom lip in a pout, but he laughs at himself, almost unable to keep his composure at himself.

“You’re really drunk, Ji.” Minho watches the younger continue to giggle, and he can’t help but laugh at him softly. “I think we should go home.”

“But I wanna hang out with my friends.” Jisung whines again, head tilting back to lean against the tiled wall.

“I know you do. But we’re both drunk and it’s getting late. I’m sure Felix and Hyunjin are drunk off their ass too.”

“Are you gonna take me home to celebrate now?” Jisung asks, biting his bottom lip.

“Mhm.” Minho kisses him again, slowly leaning away to retract his hands from Jisung’s waist to fix his jeans before looking at his drunk boyfriend, feeling slightly dizzy.

“Come on,” Minho grabs Jisung’s hand, trying to coax him out of the shitty bathroom. “Let’s go say bye to everyone.”

Jisung obediently follows, giggling as they walk out of the bathroom hand in hand. Minho weaves through the dense crowd, making his way back towards the velvet rope where they are let in without issue. Minho tugs Jisung up the stairs carefully, listening to him mumble and giggle about something Felix had said earlier in the night, unable to control his drunken laughter as they reach the landing.

“There you are,” Hyunjin says happily as he watches Minho and Jisung walk into the suite, a dopey, drunken grin plastered on his lips.

“Where’s everyone at?” Minho looks around, only spotting Felix and Jeongin in the room, sitting next to one another on the red couch in the corner of the suite.

“Channie and Seungmin went home like ten minutes ago. . . I think. Changbin is with a girl? I don’t know.”

“You don’t seem to know a lot of the answers, Hyunjin.” Minho scoffs, watching Hyunjin giggle.

“I’m drunk off my ass. What d’you expect from me?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Minho’s voice trails off as he feels Jisung let go of his hand, walking away towards Felix. He doesn’t bother to tell him not to sit down and instead just lets him go, watching him plant his ass on the couch next to Felix, wrapping his friend in a tight, drunk hug. “Are you going home soon?”

“Probably. Felix keeps insisting that he’s not tired, but I don’t believe him.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, turning to look at the trio laughing on the couch.

“Jisung is really drunk, so I need to get him to bed,” Minho chuckles, watching as Jisung looks at him and smiles, turning to look at Jeongin confusingly after a few seconds. Oh, shit.

“You’re the mother fucker that slept with my boyfriend a long time ago!” Jisung says aghast, pointing at Jeongin. Minho stands there, unsure of where this conversation was going to go, hoping that Jisung would just drop it and move on, but he wasn’t sure how confident he was in believing that.

“I did. I did sleep with him.” Jeongin confirms, taking a drink from the bottle of soju in his palm.

“Don’t sleep with him again!” Jisung frowns. “He’s mine.”

Okay. Time to go. “Jagiya–”

“Hm? What?” Jisung immediately turns to look at him, watching as Minho approaches.

“Let’s go. I’ll call us a ride home.”

“I’m talking to my competition, Minho–”

“Christ,” Minho mutters under his breath, grabbing Jisung’s hand and pulling him off of the couch. “It was nice to see you again, Felix. Thank you for doing this for me. Jeongin–”

Minho takes a breath, momentarily pausing as he looks at the eyes that had once trapped him years ago. “Thanks for coming.”

Jeongin just nods at him, taking another drink of his soju before avoiding Minho’s gaze any longer. Minho wanted to say nice to see you, or something around the lines of that, just in hopes to be polite, but everything he wanted to say sounded inappropriate, and he was too tipsy to care.

“Hyunjin’ah,” Minho turns around, pulling the younger with him. “You are the best. Thank you for this.”

“We’re friends, Minho! It’s what I do!” Hyunjin smiles at him gleefully.

“Get home safe, please.” Minho begs him with a light laugh, patting him on the shoulder as he passes.

“Will do!” Hyunjin spins around to watch the pair leave, taking another drink of whatever he had poured into his glass.

Jisung and Minho find themselves outside on the curb minutes later, waiting for a cab to appear. Jisung’s head was leaning into Minho’s shoulder, clinging onto him comfortably as he waited for Minho to get them home safely.

Jisung had six too many drinks tonight, not counting the shots he did with Felix and Seungmin, Minho was well aware of that. But, with all of the tribulations of the past few months, he didn’t really have it within him to tell Jisung to hold back or to slow down. Jisung was his. He wasn’t insecure and he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Jisung what to do on a night that he thought was for Jisung himself. It was his birthday soon, and he was just happy to have someone at his side who was as loving as Jisung was.

Minho also never really got to enjoy drunk Jisung like this. The last time he had seen him this drunk was when they first met, ending up back in Jisung’s studio apartment with barely enough liquor in their systems to curb their memories. This Jisung however, was incredibly flirty and touchy, not that he wasn’t those things in the first place, but it was elevated to say the least. He knew what Jisung was trying to do by picking these outfits, but Minho had no plans of celebrating when they got home. Jisung had consumed way too many drinks, and out of fear for his boyfriend’s health the next morning, he elects on the idea of getting him into bed as soon as possible.

Eventually, Minho hailed a cab, gathering into the backseat carefully before giving the driver instructions to get back to his apartment. Minho pays for their fare, helping Jisung stumble out from the backseat as he thanks the driver once they arrive, leading his partner towards the apartment slowly.

Minho turns his key in the lock, listening to it click open audibly, pushing the door open with his foot before ushering his inebriated boyfriend inside. Minho closes the door behind them, breathing a sigh of relief when he drunkenly realizes that they’re both home safe and without incident. He takes off his shoes and helps Jisung take his off too, carefully watching over his partner as he travels through the hall, quietly commenting soft words at the cats as they scatter around them, purring and meowing excitedly at the arrival of their caretakers.

The apartment was nearly completely dark except for the lights pouring in from the large windows thanks to the city’s nightlife. Minho wasn’t even sure how Jisung was managing to make it into his room without running into anything, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Do you need me to get anything for you?” Minho asks, helping Jisung settle into the bed.

“Pants.”

“What about your pants?”

“Need new ones.” Jisung lays back on the bed, hands reaching for the pillow that was off to his left. “Just. . . just take ‘em off.”

“So you don’t want pants?”

“Nope.” Jisung hums.

“Okay.” Minho sighs, carefully helping his drunken mess of a boyfriend take off his pants, sliding the jeans down his legs and tossing them aside, feeling his head spin the moment he stands upright. The alcohol was hitting him harder the longer he was awake, and he wasn’t sure on how long he had before the will to sleep overpowered his will to dote on his boyfriend.

Minho hoists Jisung’s legs into bed, pulling the covers over him as he tries to make sure Jisung was comfortable before tugging his shirt off of his body and tossing it aside, climbing over Jisung to plant himself next to him.

“Did you have fun?” Jisung drunkenly mumbles, turning over to face Minho with his eyes lulling shut.

“I had a lot of fun.” Minho breathes quietly, blinking a few times to keep himself awake.

“I jus’ wanted you to see how loved you are.” Jisung lets a long breath roll through his nose. “I don’t want you to feel unloved.”

“I know, Ji. I know I’m not.”

“You deserve it all, Minho’ah–” Jisung wraps his arms around Minho tiredly, pulling himself closer, absorbing Minho’s warmth. “Hyunjin loves you so much. He jus’ does, okay? Felix too. They fuckin’ love you.”

“I know, jagiya.” Minho chuckles at him quietly, wrapping his arms around him too.

“Seungmin took a shot with me t’night. Did you see that? He–” Jisung hiccups. “He fuckin’ came right up to me and Lixie. Vodka tasted really good.”

“That’s good Jisung, but I really need you to focus on going to sleep.”

“I w’na celebrate with you.” Jisung mutters, voice slowly mumbling into a whisper.

“I know you do. Just sleep for now, okay?”

“Mm’kay.” Jisung hums as he leans closer into Minho, finally teetering into a state of peace; allowing the will to sleep to overcome him.

Minho breathes in relief, holding Jisung to his chest warmly, pressing a few kisses into his hair, letting his eyes finally shut from what felt like an exhausting day. He was tipsy, but nowhere near the state that Jisung was in.

This was all he needed though. He was happy to take care of Jisung and happy to hold him as long as he wanted, listening to each breath dotingly, using that to send himself off into sleepy bliss just shy of two in the morning.

“Baby,” Jisung says groggily, gently smacking Minho on his chest. “Your phone is ringing.”

“Hm?” Minho opens his eyes, swinging his attention towards the nightstand, right where he doesn’t remember discarding his phone to last night.

“Your phone.” Jisung says again, pulling the blanket further up his chest with a grumble. “Please answer it or turn it off.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Minho grimaces as he sits up, reaching for his phone to answer the call and hold it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Minho.”

Minho’s eyes shoot wide open at the familiar voice. “Dad?”

“Sorry to bother you this early. I needed to tell you something that’s important.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“I need to make an appearance at a gallery with my wife, but you also need to attend since you’re next in line to take over the business. I need to make a good impression with some of the people there, and I really need you to come with me.”

“You know how I feel about the business.”

“I don’t care, Minho. It’s your role and your responsibility. Now just be a good son for once and come with me.”

“What day is it?”

“It’s tomorrow night. I can send a driver to pick you up.”

“Thanks for the late notice.” Minho drawls, listening to his father sigh on the other end of the line.

“You can bring your friend or a date if you want. It’ll look better if you bring a girl on your arm.”

“Yeah. Sure, dad.”

“I’ll let you know the details tonight. Thank you.”

“Yeah.” Minho hangs up the line, tossing his phone away dejectedly. Jisung opens his eyes, watching Minho worriedly, reaching his hand over to tap Minho gently on his chest.

“Was that your dad?”

“Unfortunately.” Minho sighs, sitting upright in bed, rubbing at his eyes.

“What did he want?”

“I have to go to some bullshit gala. . . something for the business.”

“By you saying late notice, I’m assuming it's like tonight or something?”

“Tomorrow night. He’s lucky I don’t work.” Minho looks out of his window, watching gray clouds loom over the landscape ahead of him. “I want you to come with me.”

“To the gala?”

“Yeah.” Minho looks over at Jisung, running a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t wanna go alone.”

“I wouldn’t let you go alone, Minho.” Jisung tries to smile at him, but Minho’s eyes barely catch sight of it.

“My dad has just been weird as of late. He’s been calling less and he’s been around less, so I don’t really understand where this is all coming from. I don’t know why he wants me to make an appearance now all of the sudden.”

“Has he always been so estranged?”

“There’s been a crater between us since my mom died. There’s no way it could get worse than how it is now.”

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?” Jisung asks tiredly, but Minho shakes his head, gaze avoiding.

“It’s a long, painful story. I don’t–” Minho pauses, brows slightly furrowed. “I don’t necessarily want to revisit it right now. Just know that my dad put the wedge between us. It wasn’t me.”

“Okay.” Jisung smiles at him subtly. “Just know that you can tell me whenever you want to.”

“I know, Ji. I know.” Minho looks out of the window again, then towards his open bathroom door, debating internally for a moment before speaking. “D’you wanna shower with me?”

“That’s something we haven’t done in awhile.” Jisung says amusingly. “What spurred that on?”

“I’m hungover and a hot shower sounds really good right now.” Minho smiles at him. “Plus. . . showering with you sounds even better.”

“Okay. I’m in.” Jisung watches Minho smile excitedly, sitting upright in bed also.

Minho swings his legs over the bed, tossing the blanket away as he walks into the bathroom, listening to Jisung follow behind him slowly.