Archive of Our Own ^beta

3 years 6 months

“I got the job.” Jisung had just walked into their apartment, holding a bouquet of flowers— lilacs and tulips, light yellows and purples huddled together in Jisung’s grip.

“Oh, you got it? That’s great Sungie! I’m so proud of you,” Minho replied, smiling. He patted the sofa, encouraging Jisung to sit when he saw he hadn’t moved at all from the moment the door shut behind him.

“Um, yeah,” Jisung hummed, gripping the flowers a bit tighter. Minho was sure that wasn’t good for them.

“Let me get a vase for these, hold on,” he hummed softly, getting up to rummage through the cabinets. Jisung had something important to say. His silence was telling enough.

“Uhh, I think you should sit down,” he eventually said when MInho recovered a vase from the deep corner of the cabinet, forgotten entirely. They’d ended up shoving various little trinkets inside, clearly forgetting they had put them there in the first place. He just dumped everything on the table— he could sort it out later.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, putting the vase down now and slowly sitting down at the table. Jisung sat down next to him, chair too far away— as though he was scared to come closer.

“Ah- I don’t know how to say this,” he started, voice quiet. Minho waited. “They want me to transfer there permanently.”

Minho frowned. Permanently? That couldn’t be right. The company was in America, that would mean entirely moving to a different country.

“Wasn’t it meant to be a remote job?” Minho asked, perplexed, intensely staring at the tinted blue of the glass, ornate designs of the vase providing him a distraction.

“Um, yeah but it turns out they were looking for a few people to work at their main branch there too,” he trailed off. “They thought I’d be good for the job there.”

“I can’t move to America.” Minho stated, knowing that’s what this whole conversation would lead to anyway. “You know I have my studio here, the cats…”

“No, no Minho I’m not asking you to come with me, I know it’s a big change,” Jisung rushed in, moving his chair closer and reaching for Minho’s hand, which remained unmoving on the table. “I really want this job, you know that,” he continued, letting out a small sigh. “But I don’t want to leave you either.”

Minho nodded, sitting up a bit straighter. “When… would you be leaving?” he asked, voice breaking. Jisung may have said he won’t be ‘leaving’ but it still felt like that to him. Perhaps he was avoiding the conversation they really should be having.

“It would probably be in two months,” his boyfriend replied, holding his hand tightly. “So we have time.”

“Yeah, we have time,” Minho nodded.

Yet, when Minho started trimming the stems of the flowers, removing some of the leaves so they would fit comfortably in the water, he felt wrong pretending he was okay with everything. It was all so sudden. He told Jisung he was tired from work, needed some sleep, when really he just sat with the lights off, thinking.

Jisung came into the room a few hours later, Minho was still quiet as he lay there, the only light now coming from the faint moonlight through the blinds. Jisung stood next to him, silently asking if he was okay to sit too. All Minho needed to do was look up at him, little teardrops threatening to fall, before Jisung wrapped him up in his embrace, Minho clinging to his shirt and trying desperately not to cry. He had no reason to cry yet— they still had two months together. Jisung calmed him down, gently petting his hair and rubbing his back to soothe him. Minho soon fell asleep like that, Jisung’s shirt bunched up in his hand, face buried on his chest, silent tears likely staining his shirt.

The next morning they spoke more, Jisung reassuring Minho that nothing would change. 

“We don’t have to break up, love,” he said, pressing a kiss to Minho’s forehead as they lay in bed together. “I never meant to worry you, that’s definitely not something I want.”

“I know, I think I just panicked about it,” Minho explained, arms still wrapped around him. “And you know, long distance could work for us too,” he hummed. Of course he had thought about it last night in the time he had spent alone. He knew it wasn’t the end. It could just be the start of something new for them instead. Something… scary, really, but he was willing to try if it meant Jisung was happy.

“That’s right. Nothing could make me stop loving you,” Jisung smiled, kissing Minho's nose before slowly moving away, dragging Minho up with him. “Now come, lemme make you breakfast.”

“No, you’ll burn the kitchen again,” Minho scoffed, trying to pull Jisung back onto the bed to cuddle more. Of course, he didn’t budge. Ugh, why did he start going to the gym so much?

“What do you mean ‘again’,” Jisung whined. “I told you that was Changbin’s fault.”

“Yah, I don’t believe you,” Minho shook his head. “You’d find a way to unscramble scrambled eggs if you could. Now let’s go.”

“Minho, that doesn’t even make sense,” Jisung pouted.

“Okay, then come help me make you breakfast and prove me wrong,” Minho challenged, sitting up and offering a hand for Jisung to hold. Jisung followed even though he complained the entire time they cooked.

The rest of their day went by pretty peacefully. Neither of them had work to go to and they were both particularly clingy, holding onto each other whenever they were next to each other. Jisung officially filled in and signed the paperwork to start his new job, constantly asking Minho if he was okay with it after each piece of paper he read through. Minho would never say no; he knew how important this was for Jisung and how much of a big step it was in his career. He was extremely proud of him, truly.

By the end of the day they were huddled up under a blanket, watching an anime they had already watched countless times and near memorised by now. They had reached one of the less eventful episodes in the series, mostly one to set up an upcoming plot twist. At some point near the end of the episode, Minho turned to Jisung only to find him watching him instead of the anime. Typical. Minho blinked a few times, wondering what he was thinking.

“I love you,” he said simply, reaching for Minho’s hand to link them together. Minho shuffled a bit closer to him, a soft smile across his lips as he leaned in, kissing him softly.

It was slow, gentle, almost as though either of them could snap if they made one sudden move. “I love you too,” Minho breathed out against his lips, hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders loosely, Jisung’s holding onto his waist.

Jisung whined when Minho gently moved to rest a hand against his chest, pushing him back towards the sofa and scrambling for the remote to turn off the TV, all without letting go of Jisung, the blanket now long forgotten, kicked down onto the ground. “You’re so beautiful like this,” Jisung murmured, just loud enough for Minho to hear him.

“You’re just saying that,” Minho hummed, gently pushing one knee between his thighs to settle on his lap. He tilted Jisung’s head with his fingers, leaving a trail of kisses along his jawline, hands running down his chest and likely hovering above where his tattoo was long enough for Jisung to notice. He’d gotten it almost a year ago now, showing Minho as soon as he got back home. He looked so incredibly beautiful that day, happy. It was one of Minho’s favourite looks on him. Perhaps after the one in front of him right now.

Jisung always got so sensitive so quickly, even if all Minho did was kiss him. Running his hands along the hem of his shirt, he slowly lifted it above Jisung’s head, pulling back only for a moment before attaching his lips back to his body, now pressing kisses along his neck and down to his flushed chest, one hand gripping tightly at his waist. Minho nipped at his nipple, pinching the other with his free hand, the breathy whine that followed so quintessentially Jisung that it sounded like the most beautiful melody to Minho.

Jisung held onto Minho’s hair, pressure barely there if only to let him know he was feeling good. Minho left more kisses down Jisung’s chest, small bites littering the area around his tattoo and trailing downwards. He slowly ran a hand down his thigh, gripping him above the knee. He avoided the very clear erection in front of him, almost wanting to tease Jisung for how fast he got worked up. But not just yet. He looked up at him sweetly instead, head tilting to rest on his thigh. “May I?” He batted his eyelashes, something usually too much even for him. He was so used to just taking, using Jisung until he was a whiny mess beneath him, making him as overstimulated as he could and caring for him afterwards. But he wanted to focus on Jisung today, even if it meant ignoring his own needs for a while.

“Please,” Jisung breathed out, a loud whine accompanying his tone when Minho quickly pushed his knees further apart and pulled down his sweatpants.

“You sound so pretty for me,” he hummed, leaving more kisses on his stomach, teasing him. His hand ran up Jisung’s thigh softly, fingers tracing the shape of his bulge through his pants. “But you know you can be louder than that sweetie.”

“I would be if you actually did something,” Jisung huffed, though clearly trying to suppress his pretty noises from Minho.

“Hm,” was all Minho said before he swiftly removed Jisung’s pants, hand wrapping around his cock almost instantly, ripping a loud moan out of Jisung. Exactly as he had wanted.

“Aww you’re so cuteee. So sensitive,” he teased now that Jisung was barely able to reply to him beyond his sharp breaths and whines. Minho started pressing his thumb to the tip, gathering some of the precum that had pooled there. “And already so wet.” He had wanted to take it slow, but Jisung always made that difficult for him.

“Minho,” Jisung whined, face flushed, hints of red creeping up his neck with each touch. Minho leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip. He left little kisses and licks along the length, kitten licks as Jisung called them from how gentle he always was, mostly making sure Jisung was wet enough for him. When Jisung gripped Minho's hair, fingers tangling in his hair, almost losing some of his composure, Minho returned back to the tip, licking at the precum once more before taking the head into his mouth, sucking ever so softly.

One hand came back to wrap around the length, unmoving, just applying some pressure and warmth around him. Minho started moving his head slowly, taking a little more of Jisung each time, sometimes lifting off completely to leave more kisses along his length. Jisung’s soft whines and whimpers were piercing through the silence of the room. His entire body was so hot to touch, sensitive, as though he would melt through Minho’s hands at any moment.

When Minho needed to pause for a breath, he took the opportunity to collect the mixture of spit and precum around Jisung’s cock, one finger teasingly trailing down towards his entrance. The next time Minho took Jisung’s cock in his mouth, he made sure to take him fully, the tip hitting the back of his throat while he slowly pushed his finger past his rim. Jisung’s body let him in so easily, quickly carving a space for him to add a second, and soon a third finger. Only then did he start aiming his thrusts towards his prostate, Jisung biting down at his sleeve to muffle his pleasure.

Minho just wanted to open him up and warm him with his mouth for a while as Jisung rubbed little circles at his nape. His hips were twitching, barely staying down even when Minho pushed a hand against his lower stomach to keep him still. Jisung was trying desperately not to move and Minho kept rubbing his inner thighs with the palm of his hand when he started to relax (only to work him up again by grazing his prostate with his fingers, relishing the shudders of pleasure that Jisung so desperately tried to hide). It didn’t take long before Jisung was practically begging for him to move faster, broken pleas of ‘hyung’ and ‘please let me come’ repeated like a mantra.

So Minho let him. Despite his jaw hurting from staying wide open for so long, and ignoring the ache in his knees from kneeling down for so long and the tears blurring his vision. He started bobbing his head, sucking him in and letting Jisung control the rhythm with soft tugs at his hair.

He could tell Jisung was getting close, occasional twitches and thrusts pushing him even deeper into Minho’s mouth, getting faster and less controlled after only the few seconds Minho spent sucking him off. It didn’t take much longer for him to come, hot spurts filling Minho’s mouth.

“Wait- Min,” Jisung whined suddenly before Minho had the chance to swallow, his hand roughly pulling at Minho’s hair and moving him off his cock entirely. “Kiss me p-please?” God, he’s so cute.

Minho smiled, pressing one final kiss to Jisung’s cock before standing up and settling himself on his lap, wiggling his hips back against Jisung’s still-hard length. He wasted no time before kissing Jisung, letting his cum drool into the younger’s mouth, allowing him to taste himself on Minho tongue between the mixture of spit and cum. It was so, so filthy, Jisung eagerly parting his lips to swallow everything that Minho gave him. "Good boy," Minho praised, the blush in Jisung's cheeks deepening.

“You can…” Jisung started quietly between kisses and moans. “Can you use me please, wanna see you come.” His words were swallowed by another kiss, Minho nipping at his lip with a smile.

“Not just yet baby.”

“No, please.” Yet another whine when Minho didn’t listen, biting at his neck to silence him. “J-Just, let me take care of you too please,” Jisung moaned, head falling to the back of the sofa. "I'll be good, promise."

“Nope, I’m not done taking care of you,” Minho shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips. Jisung of course decided to kiss his finger, smiling up at him as he reached down to unzip Minho’s trousers, completely ignoring him.

“You’re such a tease,” Minho huffed, getting up to remove his trousers and boxers anyway. He chose to keep his sweater on, liking the soft texture against his skin and quite honestly far beyond the point of patience to spend another few seconds away from Jisung.

“And yet you still won’t fuck me,” Jisung pouted, to which Minho scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“If you’re good for me now I just might wake you up tomorrow with my cock deep inside you,” he countered. A promise. Jisung’s eyes immediately widened, his head nodding furiously. “You’re such a slut, wanting hyung to use you in your sleep.” Jisung whined out, eyes rolling back.

Minho reached to the side where they kept some extra lube (just in case of moments like this), squeezing some out onto his hand and letting it warm up a little before finally reaching between them and wrapping a hand around both of their lengths, finally getting some long-awaited relief as well. His hand could barely wrap around just Jisung, but he could grind his hips against him to make up for it. He didn’t think either of them would last long doing this.

“Is this okay, my love?” Minho asked. “Use your words.” he prompted softly when Jisung said nothing, head mindlessly nodding instead.

“Ye-s, ‘ts fine, so so good.” He was so gone, well past the point of overstimulation.

"Good boy. Thank you, baby." Minho started pumping his hand, the lube squelching loudly and dripping onto the sofa from how much he had used. They liked it messy after all. Jisung’s hands moved from Minho’s waist, reaching up and pulling him into another kiss as he had wanted. Eyes fluttering shut, Minho returned the kiss, greedily nipping at Jisung’s lower lip to get him to open his mouth, which he very quickly did, letting Minho in far too easily. Minho smiled against Jisung’s lips, his sudden twitches and tugs at his hair telling him he was already getting close again.

“Min- Hyungie, you’ll ruin your sweater,” Jisung tried warning him after they pulled away to take a breath, not making any other moves to stop Minho, his entire body limp against the sofa.

“Don’t care,” he replied, going straight back to kissing Jisung and grinding against him even harder, his own quiet moans barely audible above his boyfriend’s. Jisung’s hand travelled to his hips in an attempt to help him despite his prior complaints.

“Love y-,” Jisung moaned loudly, now gripping Minho's skin so tightly he knew it would bruise. Minho was losing his composure.

“C-Close,” he shivered, nipping above Jisung’s collarbone to keep himself grounded. Everything felt so hazy, but so incredibly perfect at the same time. Jisung, through his own delirium, helped guide Minho’s hips for him, and soon the pressure Minho felt finally broke, painting Jisung’s stomach white with his release as he bit down onto his shoulder. Minho’s hand kept pumping Jisung even faster despite his own sensitivity, driven by his boyfriend’s near pained moans as he got even closer to the edge once more, until he came all over Minho’s sweater, neither of them having time to even think of lifting it out of the way.

Minho giggled to himself, taking a moment to breathe before he spoke. “That was one of my favourite sweaters,” he pouted.

“Don’t worry hyungie, it’ll wash out,” Jisung sighed softly, melting into Minho when he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

They stayed quiet for a while, completely unmoving, just catching their breaths and feeling each other’s warmth.

“I’ll miss this,” Minho hummed, head against Jisung’s shoulder, kissing above the clear bite mark that had formed.

“You’re making it sound like I’m dying,” Jisung laughed, brushing Minho’s hair out of his face and tilting his head up towards him. “We have two months,” another kiss pressed to Minho’s lips. “We can use them however you want.”

And if the first day of those two months started with Minho fucking his pretty boyfriend in his sleep as he had promised, they certainly were not complaining.

By the end of the week, Jisung had told all their friends that he was leaving. They had gone to a bar together, buying a couple drinks and just talking. Jisung had seemed so unsure how to bring anything up to his friends, Minho eventually being the one to get everyone’s attention and to initiate the conversation. Felix burst into tears almost immediately, Hyunjin holding him as he listened to the others. Chan and Changbin kept asking questions about the job while Jeongin and Seungmin seemed more interested in how and when the move was going to happen, though all of them eventually got too upset to keep talking about it. Many tears later, they all agreed to meet for dinner a few weeks later to properly say goodbye. Minho held Jisung’s hand the entire time after, not letting go even when it was time for the group to pay, and go their separate ways.

“How do you feel?” Minho asked during the walk back, the sound of the cool breeze the only thing around them.

“Surprisingly okay now,” Jisung hummed out in response, his fingers tapping against the back of Minho’s hand. “I keep telling myself I’ll still be seeing them and talking to them, you know?”

“You’re still allowed to feel upset though,” Minho said, glancing towards Jisung who was still looking straight ahead at where they were walking. He had heard how Jisung’s unsettled tone didn’t quite match his somewhat hopeful words for the future. He wasn’t going to comment on it further, especially when Jisung just nodded and squeezed his hand gently.

When they reached the front door, Jisung let go of Minho’s hand to get the keys, tugging at his coat sleeve as soon as it was open to get them both inside and away from the cool night breeze. Minho was immediately attacked into a hug which he returned with his own arms around Jisung’s waist.

“Thank you,” Jisung started.

“For what baby? I haven’t done anything,” Minho asked softly, now stroking through his hair to comfort him.

“Thank you for making everything seem normal.”

Minho just smiled to himself, continuing to pet Jisung’s hair knowing it usually comforted him quite quickly. Of course, they were both out of their comfort zones in this new situation they found themselves in but at least he was doing his best to be happy and comforting enough for both of them. Jisung had already been stressed enough with packing and deciding what he needed to take and what he could leave– Minho didn’t need to add his own stress onto Jisung. He trusted him. And he knew this job was something he had wanted for so long.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Jisung tugged at his coat once more. “Minho?”

“Yes, baby?” he replied, pulling away from the hug to brush Jisung’s hair from his eyes.

“Can I kiss you please?” Minho couldn’t help but smile at how polite he was being.

“Of course my love, you know you don’t need to ask anymore,” he said.

Though they had spent years together, first as best friends before they started dating and then living together, Minho had always thought they were somehow destined to be together. They had met through a mutual friend at the time, who had left them alone for a mere few minutes, only to come back to them discussing their favourite genres of music and anime in great detail almost immediately, as though they had already known each other for so long. It was intuitive, in a way. After that, they just clicked . They spent so much time together it was difficult not to learn everything about each other and fall in love. Jisung always joked how he knew they were soulmates from the moment they met.

And now, that was as clear as ever– Even with all this time, kissing Jisung always brought him a sense of peace and happiness he knew he would never find elsewhere. Minho held Jisung’s hand as they kissed, letting himself be pulled towards their bedroom. Jisung allowed Minho to worship his body both inside and out, opening up to him with practiced ease, arms and legs clinging to him as though he feared Minho would leave him. It was soft, gentle, a love so tender and vulnerable, yet something so addictive. When Minho carefully pulled away from Jisung, the younger’s faint whines were silenced by yet another tender kiss. Minho kissed along the forming bruises and marks on Jisung’s skin one last time, before lifting him up and carrying him to the bath to clean him up, while he slowly drifted off to sleep in one of countless moments that Minho would cherish forever.

3 years 8 months

Today was the day.

Jisung’s plane was leaving in only a few hours and here they were, having their last breakfast in their apartment together, pretending once more like nothing would be different. That their relationship wouldn’t potentially completely change. Still, Minho knew how excited Jisung was, but also how exhausting it had been in the upcoming weeks, and how uncertain their future looked.

The cats also seemed to notice their change in mood over the past few days, choosing to lounge around in the same room as them more often as opposed to staying on their cat tree in the living room until they ultimately got hungry. That and they also realised they could get away with doing things they wouldn’t have before. Today, Dori was sitting on Jisung’s lap, pawing at his arm every time he tried to take a bite of his food, which at least made them both smile even though normally Dori would have been scolded for it.

“Do you want more pancakes for later?” Minho asked when they finished, intending to get up and make a few more anyway since they had made way too much batter. He had already made a small lunch for Jisung while he finished packing his suitcase for the plane, the rest of his boxes already on the way to America. Just something simple to keep him going on the flight.

“I can make them later, it’s okay,” Jisung hummed. “I just want to sit with you for now.”

And so they did. Really, it was like any other day where neither of them had work– or maybe that’s what they pretended, hoping the reality wouldn’t hit. They finished the last episode of a show they were watching, purposefully left for that specific day, Jisung’s head resting on Minho’s shoulder the entire time. They were mostly silent, watching, though he doubted either of them paid the episode much attention.

When the taxi Jisung booked for the airport arrived, Minho followed down to the front door, not wanting to let go of his hand. That’s when he knew the tears he had been keeping at bay would break through.

“Call me when you land?” Minho asked, taking a shaky breath to keep himself sane.

“I will,” Jisung said, tentatively letting their hands fall apart and wrapping him in one last hug, and kissing him goodbye. “I love you, baby.”

It’s okay , he thought as Jisung got into the taxi, giving him one small, sad smile.

It’s fine, he thought as the car started driving away, and he mouthed one final ‘I love you’ into the distance.

Yes. It was fine. He had a plan– albeit one mostly as an attempt to suppress his heartache. It should have been a stupid idea. He didn’t really know the protocol of what to do when your boyfriend leaves for another country– no one had really prepared him for that– but at least he had known his Jisungie long enough to know he would react well.

He wore his cutest outfit, coincidently one Jisung picked out for him, and positioned himself on his knees in front of the mirror. His white skirt, short enough that if he were to move any more it would be showing far too much. Pink lace underwear just peeking through when he dipped his finger into the waistband of the skirt to tug it down. Finally a cropped hoodie, the sleeves so long his fingers barely visible beyond the hem. He finished the whole look with his light pink thigh high socks and matching cat ears, taking a few photos until he was satisfied with the results.

For the next part of the plan he turned around and flipped the skirt up, showing off his ass and thighs, and, most importantly, the heart shaped plug between his cheeks, one of the biggest ones they owned. He set the camera down and pressed record, intending to only record a few seconds for Jisung, knowing he would be sooo distracted the entire flight after seeing it. It wasn’t his intention to get carried away with that thought in mind.

He felt the blush creeping from his ears, to his cheeks as he turned to stare at himself on the screen, the video showing him slowly getting more and more disheveled and desperate as he reached back to tug at the plug a few times before it slipped out with a loud pop, Minho intentionally moaning louder than he usually would and maybe hoping that whatever headphones Jisung was wearing would allow some of the sound to seep through, so everyone around him would instantly know what he was listening to.

He pushed the plug back in with a sensitive whimper before tugging it back out just as quickly and discarding it to the side, replacing it with two of his fingers. He gently tugged at his rim to show Jisung how stretched he was, wiggling his hips like he usually would to get his boyfriend to fuck him faster. He whimpered again, scrambling to turn off the recording before he got too carried away.

Lifting himself up onto the bed all he could do now was wait for Jisung to say he had arrived at the airport, which would hopefully be very soon.

Almost like he had predicted it, not even a minute after he had selected the best photos he had taken in preparation, Jisung messaged, so unaware of what Minho had been doing just minutes earlier.

Sungie ❤️

Got through security! I’m waiting for the gate number to come up ^-^

Sweet, innocent Jisung. Minho couldn’t help but smile evilly. If Jisung was waiting for the gate, that meant he was possibly in the busiest part of the airport right now.

Minho

You might want to get your headphones~

The only warning he gave before sending his three favourite photos from earlier, and the video he had taken just after.

He saw Jisung start typing while the photos loaded, obviously preparing to question what he needed the headphones for before seeing the content of Minho’s next message. The text bubble disappeared a few seconds later, appearing again almost three minutes after– a bit over the length of the video, Minho noted with a sly smile.

Sungie ❤️

Baby, is this what you were doing while I was getting to the airport?

I haven’t even been gone an hour and you’re already so needy

 

Minho

Hmm maybe~ but I’ve had the plug in since this morning

 

Sungie ❤️

And you didn’t tell me?

He could almost imagine Jisung’s pout at finding that out. He also realised he was likely struggling to think, the text bubble popping up every few seconds before his next message was sent.

Sungie ❤️

If I knew I would have bent you over and ripped it out myself

Fuck you’re so hot

The skirt’s soso pretty on you, I knew it would be

He was rambling now, clearly worked up. Just as Minho hoped

Minho

Just providing some entertainment for the flight, of course~

Although…

I could record some more videos for you now, but where’s the fun in that, hm?

 

Sungie ❤️

Nono, I think you should

Please

As expected, he was so easy to tease. It was no wonder Minho was the one that usually topped between the two. He had just wanted to feel extra vulnerable today.

Minho

Why should I?

He replied, knowing full well he would be indulging in whatever Jisung wanted to do regardless. He had already started rummaging through their toys to find his favourite dildo, one not particularly long, especially compared to Jisung, but thick enough it provided a deliciously painful stretch each time he used it.

Sungie ❤️

You’re really testing my patience princess

 

Minho

I just don’t want anyone to see, Sungie

Or did you already forget where you are?

 

Sungie ❤️

You should have thought about that before sending anything in the first place

 

Minho

Oops~

 

Sungie ❤️

Fuck, wait let me find a toilet or something

Honestly, Minho was surprised he hadn’t already found one. He had plenty of time but had obviously not been thinking much until now. While Minho waited, he got himself comfortable on the bed, spreading his legs and moving the lace thong to the side, reaching down after to quickly shove three fingers into himself, making sure he was still stretched enough. He panted softly, closing his eyes just for a moment before his phone buzzed in his hand not even a minute later.

Sungie ❤️

FUCK WHY IS THERE A QUEUE

There’s never a queue until you don’t want one omg

Minho couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped his lips, halting his movements to find a matching gif of a cat giggling to send, along with his response.

Minho

Cute~

 

Sungie ❤️

It’s not funny, I’m in pain TT

In response, feeling particularly evil, he took a short video in the mirror, maybe a couple seconds, fucking himself on his fingers, moaning extra lewdly for Jisung as he had before, knowing how exaggerated it likely sounded but more so wanting to tease Jisung even more while he had the chance. He made sure the dildo was set to the side but still visible in the video so Jisung could figure out what exactly he was planning. Again, he only sent a short warning before sending the video right after. For someone saying he didn’t want anyone to see, he sure was being risky.

Minho

Keep your screen hidden then~

Jisung’s response came a mere few seconds after.

Sungie ❤️

I forgot how bratty you get when you’re needy

You’re so lucky there was no one behind me

You sound so beautiful, my baby <3

Aaaand now we’re safe at least

 

Minho

Well then I’m all yours <3

Bet it was soooo difficult for you to hide how flustered you get

 

Sungie ❤️

You have no idea

I think I deserve a video after the stunt you pulled, princess

And who was Minho to deny that? He wasted no time getting on his knees, bringing the dildo in front of him and covering it in lube. After checking that the cat ears were still nicely placed on, he started the video, teasingly stroking the dildo a few times first before lifting up and pressing it against his entrance, feeling the tip easily pop in. He let out a sharp exhale, slowly dropping down the entire length in one go, moaning loudly when he managed to get through the thickest part, relishing the pain that came with it. Only then did he lift the skirt out of the way, his cock visibly leaking and straining against the pink lace underneath.

He stopped the video then, sending it to Jisung and waiting to see what he would say. It was practically torture to sit there, body twitching in anticipation, so full yet only wanting to move when he was told. Jisung’s reply didn’t take long.

Sungie ❤️

Fuck baby, are you sure you stretched enough for that? I know you haven't taken anything that big in a while

Minho rolled his eyes. Jisung knew full well how easily he could manage it. Jisung was the only one he had ever trusted enough to let him make it hurt, just like he craved.

Minho

Can I move please?

I’ll show you how well I can take it

It was only when Jisung told him to that he started moving, thighs tentatively rising off the bed, arms holding him up. He moved slowly at first, feeling the tip almost slip out before taking the entire length again in one, smooth roll of his hips, over and over and over again, just as slowly each time, until he was mumbling to himself that he wanted more. Too much, yet not enough at the same time. Too worked up now to type a message, he started a voice note.

“Sungie,” he gasped out almost instantly, hips rolling back once more. The slick sounds from the lube were particularly loud from the excessive amount he had used, dripping all around the dildo and staining his sheets, only aiding in urging him to snap his hips back even harder the next time.

“Sungie, please—“ he whined. Pleading for what exactly, he didn’t know, but once the voice note had been sent, Jisung replied almost immediately.

Sungie ❤️

Aww my needy princess~

Show me how loud you get when you fuck yourself baby

I’ll reward you if you do

So Minho did. Starting up another video and dropping his body backwards onto the bed until he could reach the base of the dildo to roughly shove it into his aching hole with a loud yelp. The pain didn’t stop him, only spurring him on even more. He started moving his hips, fucking back into the dildo until he set a comfortable, but fast, rhythm, his cat ears threatening to fall off any second.

One particularly hard thrust hit directly against his prostate, causing his entire body to jolt and shake in pleasure, heat pooling at his core and already threatening to burst. “Sungie,” he whined, trying to compose himself and failing miserably. “Wanna see you please- please let me see you,” he rambled, hand moving even faster with each thrust, now aiming for the small bundle of nerves that sent shockwaves through his entire body.

He was so lost in pleasure he nearly forgot to send the video.

Jisung rewarded him, as promised, with a short video of his own, taken in the dimly lit airport bathroom. Minho started playing the video on full volume, not even bothering to turn it down. He wanted to hear Jisung as clearly as he could, imagining he was there, that it was his hands, not Minho's, pinching his nipples and scratching all over his body and making him feel like this.

Jisung had a hand wrapped around his cock, thick, red and glistening with spit, roughly stroking up and down the length, squeezing around the head. His sweater was bunched up, Jisung biting it to muffle his groans.

Something in Minho snapped.

Minho

fucck dont talk

He hit the call button without much second thought, telling Jisung to be quiet and only listen to him.

“You’re mine, only mine,” Minho cried out, tears blurring his vision. “Don’t want anyone else to h- ah, -hear you.” He knew Jisung wouldn’t be able to say much beyond the muffled grunts and groans he could vaguely hear (not that he would really be able to read the messages either anyway), so he kept talking. 

“Fuck, you’re s-so big, I wish you could fuck me right now. 

You have me right now love

If he let his imagination run wild, he could pretend Jisung was telling him this instead of typing it. He could imagine Jisung’s hands all over him, gripping and scratching at his skin until bruises and marks formed all over, claiming him. He could imagine Jisung pressing down below his navel to keep him still, filling him up so perfectly. He could hear Jisung’s breathing get heavier by the second, but he still missed his voice directing him, taking control.

“It’s not the same,” he whined, shifting position once more to be able to thrust the dildo in as deep as possible. “Mmh– you’re so much bigger.”

He didn’t manage to read Jisung’s next reply, his body subconsciously rolling back onto the toy, snapping back even harsher and stretching him impossibly deep. Jisung’s name fell out of his mouth, a plea before his vision blurred, going white, his body arching off the bed, flushed and shivering, finally reaching the long awaited euphoria he so desperately craved.

Sungie, ah– I love you, loveyou– His words, mumbled on repeat as the overstimulation kicked in, voice breathy.

“I love you too baby,” he heard Jisung’s voice finally, near silent yet strained as he reached his own peak. Minho hoped he had been good, that Jisung liked hearing him. “You were so good, kitty.” As though Jisung could hear his thoughts.

“Hm, thank you-” Minho hummed, catching his breath, body still shaking from overstimulation.

“Make sure you get some rest,” Jisung, still whispering, still caring for him even though he really shouldn’t be talking. “I’ll call you when I land.” Minho hummed in approval, trying not to drift off to sleep. He would absolutely regret waking up with dry cum on his stomach and lube dripping out of him and all over his bed if he did.

“Love you,” he mumbled again, Jisung returning the sentiment too. “Have a safe flight.”

About two weeks after Jisung had settled in, they were on call again, Minho having just had dinner and lounging around in bed while he waited for Jisung to pick up. It didn’t take long for them to get into a comfortable conversation as always.

“Are you excited about starting work?” Minho asked at some point, nibbling on a piece of bread since he was still feeling a bit hungry.

“Yeah, I can’t wait honestly,” Jisung exclaimed, excitement audible in his tone. “Oh and actually, I met one of my coworkers already,” he added. “Jihoon– he’s Korean as well so I guess I have someone else to practice with,” he laughed then. Well, it was true. Living outside of Korea had made it a bit harder for both of them to use the language each day, especially at work.

“Baby. Most of our friends are Korean. What more practice do you need?” Minho teased, shuffling to lie down in bed and put the phone on speaker.

“God, I don’t know,” Jisung sighed. “Guess I’m trying to find something to remind me of home.”

Home.

“You said you start next week?” Minho asked, changing the subject back to work.

“Yeah, Monday. They’ll send me some demos over to work on and see what I can come up with.” 

“Aww, do I get to hear them too?” Minho asked, always so used to hearing whatever demos Jisung produced for his thoughts before he sent them to his coworkers to listen to. It was quite endearing how much his opinion mattered to Jisung.

“Yes of course. It’s stressful though,” Jisung mumbled. “New people to meet and impress…” he trailed off then, overthinking it already. Minho had to do some damage control before he got out of hand.

“Jagi, your songs are always really good, you don’t have to worry,” he reassured. “They’ll love whatever you come up with.”

“What if they don’t though,” Jisung said then.

“Hey now,” Minho sat up in bed, gripping his phone and pointing a finger at it angrily even though Jisung wouldn’t be able to see him. “If anyone says that I will personally discover teleportation to go to their house and beat them up.”

Jisung laughed, Minho smiling, relieved that he had made Jisung a bit less worried. He loved his laugh– It was so soothing.

“I’d love to see that.”

4 years

The phone rang, Minho answering within two rings and patiently waiting for the video to connect. Seeing Jisung brought a smile to his face, remembering how long it had been since they found the time to call. It was an important date for them, of course they would find time.

“Hi baby,” Minho smiled, setting the phone on the table opposite. It felt a bit funny at first, the idea that they would be having dinner together (or lunch for Jisung) over a video call. But having Jisung in front of him, wearing the pink hoodie he had stolen from Minho before leaving (not that Minho cared) it reminded him how important this relationship was for both of them.

“Hi, my love,” Jisung responded a few seconds later, setting his own phone as well so he was more in frame. “I can’t believe I’m missing our anniversary” he pouted through the screen, the sound getting worryingly choppy towards the end of his sentence.

“You’re not missing it, love,” Minho shook his head, trying to reassure him- or himself maybe. “It’s just a little different this year.”

“I know, I know,” Jisung sighed, shaking his head as well. “Well anyway, tell me how your performance was last night.”

“Oh, it went very well,” Minho nodded, taking a quick sip of his drink before going more into detail. “I think Felix had someone record the whole thing so I can try to send it to you to watch.”

It was weird to think about that, really. Usually Jisung was the one that recorded all their performances and competitions for them. “I wish you were here to see it,” he found himself saying.

“Hey, I got VIP practice videos,” Jisung joked, but Minho could tell it was just deflecting his own sadness. “Just promise me you’ll keep sending me them? You know I love seeing you dance.”

“Only if you keep sending me your songs,” Minho countered, holding up his pinky as though he was waiting for Jisung to promise him.

“I promise.”

When he noticed the screen froze on Jisung’s smile, his hand held up, Minho tilted his head in confusion.

“Sungie?” he asked.

“Min, can you hear me?” he vaguely heard, after a concerning amount of stops and starts, though Jisung remained unmoving.

“Jisung?” Minho asked again, tapping his screen as though that would help.

The call disconnected just moments later, a message from Jisung coming through on their chat.

Sungie ❤️

Connection cut out :( I’ll try calling again

That was fine. It wasn’t the end of the world.

It only took a few minutes for them to sort whatever connection issue had interrupted their meal and get back to their conversation. It was mostly Minho asking Jisung about work now, seeing if his coworkers were happy with his work– which they were, as Minho knew they would be.

“Do you think you’ll be here next year?” Minho asked eventually. “For our anniversary.”

“I was thinking of visiting for your birthday,” Jisung replied.

“Not your birthday?” Minho laughed. “That’s earlier.”

“I know,” Jisung smiled as well. “But you’re more important. And I want to take you to all your favourite places again.”

“I’ll wait for you then,” Minho smiled.

He had slowly come to the realisation that having things to look forward to each week had been helping them keep in touch. With their hectic work schedules, it was sometimes difficult to talk during the day but they had managed to find a gap during Jisung’s break on a day Minho didn’t usually work for them to call, and they still texted each other daily updates. Minho always included necessary photos of the cats, claiming it wouldn’t be a daily update without them.

He had no idea why he had been so worried.

4 years 3 months

Okay, maybe he was right to worry a little.

It turned out that with the start of the new year, Minho had gotten tons of new students and had to effectively double his classes. He thankfully managed to keep the one free day he needed to call Jisung (studio owner privilege, he claimed), but managing so much all at once had gotten a bit overwhelming.

Jisung wasn’t faring much better at work– He had to cancel a few of their calls the past few weeks because he was barely able to get a break. The only time he was free now was when he got home for the evening. In other words, past midnight for Minho.

He was a bit more hopeful for today. Felix had wanted to take over a couple of his Saturday classes to teach one of his choreographies that had gotten overbooked, and Minho happily gave it up considering he hadn’t come up with any new choreography for a class yet. Jisung was supposed to finish early, always working a half-day on Saturdays, but unfortunately was unable to use it to talk to Minho because it was his busiest day at the dance studio normally.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been a bit disappointed each time they had to cancel their calls, but he hadn’t lost hope! After all, they were still texting often enough, and Jisung’s songs and Minho’s performance videos were allowing them to keep each other involved in their lives even if they were so far apart.

Jisung’s name soon popped up on his screen as planned, Minho letting out a sigh of relief as he answered. “Hi, my babyyy,” he said, drawing out the word, tone extra sweet though he hadn’t planned for it to be.

“I missed you so, so much,” Jisung replied, equally sweet.

“I missed you too,” Minho hummed. “I hope work hasn’t been too stressful on you still.”

“Eh, it’s getting better,” Jisung muttered. “But I wanna focus on you now. Tell me about your day?”

Minho spoke for a while about how the classes were going, particularly now that a new teacher started working there. She had a background in waacking and had offered to teach some beginner fundamental classes, something Minho was very excited to add to their studio schedule after so many regulars had expressed interest.

He paused for a moment, humming to himself. “You know, now that you’re here my day is infinitely better.”

Jisung giggled, probably shaking around in his bed if the noise coming through the speaker was anything to go by. “Stop,” he whined. “Your day already sounded great.”

“Yes but now it’s infinitely better,” Minho repeated, insisting on it.

Jisung said nothing except let out another soft whine, quieter this time, more timid. “I missed you.” His voice trailed off at the end, muffled.

Wait a second.

“Sungie?” Minho asked, squinting at his screen.

“Mhm?” was the only thing he heard. It had gone suspiciously quiet.

“Sungie, baby. Are you touching yourself?” he asked softly, and Jisung’s silence was answer enough.

He took a few seconds before he replied, “No” at first, before panting out in defeat. “Okay, maybe.”

It was oddly reminiscent of a couple weeks ago, when Minho had done the same thing to him, and a few days before that when Jisung had specifically sent him videos wearing his own pair of cat ears and tail before they even started their call.

“Wow,” Minho huffed, feigning annoyance. “Can’t believe I’m trying to have a conversation with you and all you care about is getting off.”

Jisung whined loudly, “-m sorry,” he panted, “Your voice is so– so hot.”

“Aw, you couldn’t wait for the call to end? You’re so desperate, jagi,” Minho smirked, already planning out how to get Jisung begging for him. “Alright, let hyung help.”

They ended up falling asleep on call together, both completely fucked out and satisfied. Minho couldn’t ask for anything better.

He had no way to know at the time, but that was the last time they would call for the next 4 months.

4 years 5 months

Minho was alone in the dance studio, facing the mirror and going through a choreography he had worked on a few weeks prior. It was a section of choreography they needed for a competition next month. The song the team had chosen was one of Jisung’s older ones, one held very dear to Minho’s heart as it was one of the first he had released by himself. He may have been the one to suggest it, but the entire team agreed it was a good option for the competition. He had taken it upon himself to choreograph the section they needed before the audio was edited together, easily coming up with something that everyone loved.

Only, he found out that the audio length was slightly shorter than required, so they’d extended the song’s section by an extra four 8-counts. It was only 32 beats. 32 fucking beats. So why was he struggling so much to come up with anything good? He had the previous section already, a draft he could work off from, yet nothing new or interesting came to mind. He absolutely hated repeating choreography- it never felt creative or challenging enough and it was absolutely no way to get better.

The song played on repeat in the background, Minho laying on the floor in what likely looked like absolute despair. He had no idea what was going on with him.

Felix walked into the room after a few minutes. Minho had forgotten his class had ended around then.

“Hyung, why are you on the floor?” he asked, leaning at the door frame, a water bottle in hand.

“Thinking of new ways to get away with murder,” he deadpanned, hoping it came off as a joke.

“Right, but why is Sungie’s song playing on repeat?”

“Because I’ve quite literally, possibly run out of choreo.”

“Impossible,” Felix responded, now moving to sit by him. Minho just covered his eyes with his hands and groaned.

“I literally can’t think of anything for this entire new fucking section,” he complained. He usually loved choreographing, head always brimming with ideas. “Is there actually something wrong with me?”

“Other than planning murder in your free time, I don’t think so,” Felix laughed. “Maybe you’re just having a bad day for ideas, it happens to the best of us”

Not to me.

“Yeah, you’re right.” he agreed with a sigh just to appease him. “Can I just show you what we have so far again? Maybe with the two of us it’ll be easier.”

Minho ended up going through the first draft of the choreography he had, before being completely stumped again by the new section. He’d only thought of one or two moves to potentially flow into the new rhythm, at least allowing Felix to incorporate some of his own ideas. When Felix asked if he had tried freestyling to it and seeing if anything seemed good, Minho just said he had tried and nothing was particularly up to standard for a competition. He claimed he was tired, and maybe that’s why his mind was completely, utterly empty.

Next, Felix tried looking through the lyrics to see if anything in particular stood out. Maybe they could use them with some sort of wordplay. It was one of Minho’s favourite ways to choreograph after all, but again. Nothing. Absolutely nada.

Felix’s third idea of using some sort of instrumental version of the song to really hone in on the beat only led to Minho collapsing back onto the floor in defeat.

“Okay, are you sure you’re okay? You’ve never struggled this much to come up with choreo” Felix huffed, more gently sitting down next to him, offering him some water.

“I told you I'm fine, I probably just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” Minho knew that could have been part of it, considering he barely slept, but it had never affected him to this extent before.

“You haven’t been sleeping well for the past few months, Minho,” Felix muttered, voice laced with concern. Minho sat up instantly. Why was Felix so scary using his full name? He supposed it was a serious situation.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Minho mumbled. “But don’t worry about me, I promise I’m fine.”

“Hyung…” Felix started, words trailing off.

Felix looked him up and down, clearly wanting to protest but deciding against it. Minho wished he would have said something more— maybe if he had pushed further he would have actually admitted to being upset. He couldn’t bring himself to do so otherwise.

“I’ll go home,” Minho mumbled, more as a promise to himself. “If I get some sleep I might be able to think of something tomorrow.”

Felix only watched as he pushed himself off the floor and packed away his things, taking them out one by one at the thought that he forgot something just to repack them again. He said nothing when Minho waved a small goodbye. God, he was probably a mess.

4 years 6 months

The competition had gone extremely well, their team coming in first place in two out of the three categories they applied to. Minho was extremely proud of everyone, especially knowing the amount of work and effort that went behind achieving something like this.

They had gone out to celebrate, chatting about anything and everything from dance, to work, to their daily lives. Minho had known these people for years by now, spending most of his early years setting up the studio with them. A few people had asked him about Jisung, wondering how he was and how they hadn’t been able to reach him for a while. They asked if he was okay and how his new job was overseas. Minho just smiled automatically, claiming he was good, but busy. He didn’t tell anyone that they hadn’t really spoken for the last few months either, or that the only way he had been keeping up to date with him was through his and Jihoon’s instagram stories whenever they posted photos of their hangouts in the recording studio or outside of it. He was glad that Jisung had found a friend at least. He had spoken to the guy a couple times before and he had to admit he seemed very nice, though kind of introverted at first.

It was easy to lie about how their relationship was now that they were long-distance. All he had to say was that they still spoke whenever they could (true, technically, except that was every few weeks, not every day like they had assumed), that he was still listening to the songs he wrote (through clips he shared on instagram, not directly) and that yes, they were happy (were they?).

Part way through their celebration, Hyunjin, after being practically dragged to the centre of the room by three of their dancer friends, announced that he and Felix were moving in together, taking the next step in their relationship. The other dancers congratulated them, and Minho absentmindedly joined in.

After a few minutes of questions, and even more congratulations, Felix and Hyunjin sat back down at the table with Minho.

“We wanted to tell you first but the guys kinda heard us talking about it earlier,” Felix sighed, laughing, looking at Hyunjin as though he was his entire world. That was how he used to look at Jisung. “We’re really happy.”

It was as though those simple words, ones that didn’t even really involve him or should affect him in any way, were singled out by his mind and sent a wave of discomfort through his chest. His entire body seized up, a numbing sadness centred in his heart.

“That’s great,” Minho nodded, monotone, wincing at how blunt he had sounded. He tried again: “I’m happy for you guys too.” Slightly better but he was sure he still didn’t sound thrilled. The two didn’t seem to notice, or if they did they chose to ignore it.

“Yeah, we’re very excited! We found a lovely place near the studio too,” Felix explained, and Minho only had the energy to nod along, the words all blurring into silence.

“Do tell me if you need help with anything.” The pain in his chest only grew. It was the only thing he could feel for the rest of the evening.

4 years 7 months

It was around 2:20 in the morning, the alarm Minho set himself now redundant considering he hadn’t even gone to sleep yet. Jisung said he would be free to call, finally for the first time in 4 months, after he was done with work, which usually meant around 2am for him. There were days he stayed awake even if he knew Jisung was busy. Part of him hoped he would let him know he was finished with work earlier so they could talk for a bit before Minho inevitably passed out from his exhaustion.

He still struggled to sleep without hearing Jisung’s voice sometimes, only needing the reassurance that he wasn’t alone. He had started going through old voice notes just to remember what his boyfriend sounded like. Beyond that he tried everything– drinking tea, sleeping early, forcing himself to get up early so he would be tired at night (though that only ended in him napping more in the day and then not being tired at night again). Yet the one thing that helped was Jisung. It was ironic that his reason for losing sleep was also the one thing that helped him sleep.

Suppressing a yawn, Minho opened a new game he had downloaded, thinking that might keep him awake for a while longer. It was well past 3 now. The game didn’t really help. Just as he was about to pass out, his grip on the phone loosening, it lit up with a notification at the top. Jisung.

Sungie

Hey, I’m sorry, I only just got home

I can call now if you’re still awake?

Of course he was still awake. He had barely been sleeping in hopes that Jisung would come back. Jisung knew that, he thought. Why else would he still be replying to his messages at 1am, then again at 2? No– He was thinking too much into it…

Part of him thought he shouldn’t reply. Let Jisung feel disappointed as well. He said he’d be free by 2 at the latest and wasn’t after all. But that wasn’t fair on him, and he was feeling awake again now, so…

Minho

I’m here

Okay, and maybe he also just couldn’t say no to Jisung. He missed him so much.

“Hi baby.” The first thing Jisung said to him when the call connected.

“Hi,” he replied, hoping he didn’t sound too tired. “How was work?”

“It was so exhausting honestly,” Jisung muttered, clearly bothered. Minho could hear shuffling in the background, likely Jisung getting ready to get into bed as well. He never understood why he would work so late when he was in charge of his own schedule now. All he had to do was go to meetings and submit samples of songs on time.

“Hm?” Minho hummed, the only thing he physically had the energy for, hoping Jisung would keep talking for a while. He knew he sounded tired now, just wanted Jisung to keep talking so he could get to hear his voice for once. It had been so long since the last time they called, and the time between each time they messaged seemed to be getting longer and longer. Jisung kept going on about his day at work, the new projects they started and difficulties they had with one of the parts. Minho tried his best to follow in his sleep deprived state, rubbing his eyes and humming along a few responses to let Jisung know he was still there, still listening.

He almost didn’t notice when he started falling asleep. Jisung’s voice soothing despite the bothered tone it held. Minho’s eyes snapped back open, frantically looking at the phone to see what time it was. 5:14. Shit. While he hoped Jisung was still on the call he knew the likelihood was that he had gone to sleep by then too. While they used to stay on call at night until the morning when they both woke up, he noticed at some point they were hanging up much earlier, often waking up with the call disconnected hours before. Today, maybe because of the 4 month gap, was different— Jisung’s name still appeared on the top of his screen when he tapped it. Minho smiled to himself, immediately grabbing his pillow and fluffing it up to cuddle. Maybe the 4 months of disappointment really did come with a glimmer of hope. If he closed his eyes and listened to the faint sleeping sounds coming through his speaker he could pretend Jisung was still there with him he supposed, and any small moment he could hold onto was a tiny victory in his mind. Especially when it was getting increasingly more difficult to find small moments that made waking up worth it.

4 years 10 months

Minho waited until 1, assuming that when Jisung had told him that he would finish work a lot earlier that he had meant by 12 if he was lucky. And look at how wrong he was. So stupid.

When Jisung said he had something important to say about his birthday next month he had secretly hoped it was something like ‘Hey, turns out I’m coming early!’ He really, desperately hoped it was that.

Instead he got a message saying that Jisung was absolutely drowned with work and wouldn’t be able to take a holiday long enough to be there for his birthday or their anniversary.

Sungie

I know how excited you were :(

I’m sorry jagi

Jagi? Minho almost wanted to tell him not to call him that. He wished he would stop, or at least not call him ‘jagi’ when he was about to disappoint him again. Was it bad that the name still sent butterflies wild in his stomach? He shouldn’t feel that fuzziness and comfort or whatever it used to be back then. Though, he once heard that feeling butterflies was supposedly a bad thing, a sign that you’re anxious around someone. Maybe they were right. There was nothing comfortable about this. Just a rumbling of insects crawling out from under his skin, desperately trying to escape. No. It was worse than being anxious.

Minho

It’s okay, things happen

He replied half-heartedly, dismissing Jisung’s second apology by saying he was tired and should probably head to bed, instead apologising for cutting their conversation short, lest Jisung realise he is mad at him. ‘Love you’, ‘Sleep well’, ‘See you tomorrow’ all sent way too easily, on autopilot.

He couldn’t sleep after that. Only stare at his ceiling for the next hour, too tired to think, too tired to feel. When he looked at the clock on his nightstand– Jisung’s old clock– he saw it was almost 2:30 in the morning. He wouldn’t even class it as ‘morning’ at that point.

With nothing better to do, he made the terrible decision to go to the kitchen and rummage through the assortment of wine he had collected as gifts from various people.

Taking only a moment before deciding that yeah, this was justified, he poured himself a glass, slowly sipping at it before giving in and downing the whole thing. He ended up taking two of the smaller bottles with him to the living room, foregoing the glass entirely and drinking straight from the bottles.

Before long, he was practically drowning in a puddle of his self pity and misery, the deafening silence of the room far too loud in his ears. He didn’t even have any music on, not that it would have helped but maybe some sort of background noise would have distracted him. Or further provided a reason he was drinking so much. He had no idea anymore; he just kept drinking.

Minho stumbled to the kitchen, grasping at any surface he could to hold himself up, the two bottles of wine he had finished clinking together as he tried to place them down as gently as he could, failing at first.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, trying to pick one up before it fell, desperately trying to place it perfectly in the middle of the counter, equal distance from the other. He hated when he got like this. Most people drank to let loose, have fun and forget, and here he was obsessing over details like that. Even two bottles hadn’t been enough to stop him. He hated wine, why did he even decide this was his drink of choice for the day? He almost wanted to scream in frustration.

Without thinking, he slammed the fridge door open, getting a can of coke and some vodka from the freezer below, almost tripping over his own feet in the process and deciding to just sit on the floor for a moment after grabbing his previously discarded glass. He mixed the drinks in a concoction that probably ended up with more vodka than coke, and hints of leftover wine despite his mind complaining that he should get a clean glass, before pulling himself up by the fridge door and making his way to the sofa again, glass and extra vodka in hand. He hadn’t even realised he was still holding the bottle.

He tipped the glass back, downing almost half the drink in one go. His head dropped to the headrest with a thud, head buzzing so much he barely registered the pain, welcoming it.

Soonie lifted his head, the sudden movement startling him from his comfortable loaf position. God, Minho felt bad now. He almost felt himself start crying.

“I’m sorry Soonie,” he slurred, reaching to pet the soft orange fur as gently as possible. He thought he could hear Soonie purring— or maybe it was the vodka making his head scream at him even louder. “Hyungie’s okay,” he assured the cat, who rolled over on his back and extended his paws out towards him.

“Hyungie’s okay,” he repeated, words catching in his throat, hoping it was true. He had been saying that a lot recently hadn't he? First to himself, then Felix and Hyunjin. Now he was saying the same to Soonie like he would be able to reply to him and see through his facade if he didn’t.

Jisung would know instantly.

No. Stop. Why was his mind still thinking like that? Was he just lying to himself again? Praying for someone who had hurt him so much recently.

“He’s not coming back, Soonie,” Minho found himself muttering, gulping at the realisation. “He’s never coming back,” he crossed his arms over his head, eyes covered, clenched shut in the hopes that it would somehow stop his thoughts before they started taunting him. It shouldn’t have taken so long to realise. It shouldn’t have been like this.

His hands scrambled to find a cushion, gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white. He could barely breathe, gasping for air as he wailed into the soft velvet. The tears kept coming then, his thoughts an unstoppable force breaking through every last barrier he had put up to protect himself. He reached for the vodka, knocking his glass over in the process and smashing it to pieces. Ironic, he thought, cursing under his breath at the realisation that he should probably clean that up. He didn’t want any of the cats to get hurt. 

He took another swig of vodka straight from the bottle to convince himself to get up, nearly gagging at the taste. He only succeeded in knocking over the flower vase on the coffee table, water splashing all over the carpet. Thankfully the vase didn’t break.

“Fuck no, stop,” Minho screamed at the water, soaking it up with his sleeve as more tears fell at the thought that his carpet was probably ruined (his rational brain said it was only water and it’ll clean easily but he didn’t think he had access to that part anymore). He tried picking up the bigger chunks of glass on the floor, intended to hoover up the smaller shards, but yelped out in pain when he cut his finger on the jagged edges instead. He was a mess and he desperately needed help. 

He called Hyunjin, having some semblance of understanding that Felix would worry too much if he had called him instead, failing to realise that now that they lived together he would probably find out anyway.

Did he care that it was past 4 in the morning now? Not particularly. Should he? Probably, but it was difficult to do when all his brain was doing was screaming at him that he was alone and probably deserved it and that everything around him was falling apart, and wrong .

“Please help me,” he cried weakly when Hyunjin picked up, not able to hear his reply over his own sobbing. He clawed at his arms, gripping so tightly he felt skin break beneath his fingers, trying to ground himself through the pain enough to tell him where he was.

It didn’t take long for Hyunjin to arrive at his door, still in his pyjamas with a thick coat haphazardly thrown on, Felix in tow, face laced in worry. Fuck, he really did forget Felix would be there too.

Minho cried harder at their arrival, dropping to his knees and wailing. “I’m sorry, ’m so so sorry,” he cried, words slurring together incomprehensibly.

“I miss him so much,” he weeped, trying to rub away some of the tears and snot with his arm, clinging to the floor in hopes that it would somehow swallow him, take him to another realm where feelings didn't hurt this deeply.

He had no idea what Hyunjin and Felix were saying to him, their words blurring together in whatever hazy hell his mind was conjuring. They were concerned though, panicked maybe, he could tell that even through the waterfall of tears streaming down his face.

He felt a hand gently lifting his head, holding it in place. Felix.

Minho squinted, trying to figure out what he was saying. How much did he drink? Was that it?

“I don’t know,” he gasped out, frantically turning to see whatever bottles and glasses he still had laying around. In his panic, his hand that was placed down for support landed directly into the glass again, cutting straight in the middle of his palm. He didn’t even have the energy to scream, though the pain stung sharply. He just lifted his arm, mesmerised by the crimson droplets. He’d never quite seen so many before, the red somehow the only colour he could clearly see. Everything else faded and smudged together in an unpleasant muddiness that tainted his vision. He felt phantoms of pain throughout his body, but all he could focus on was the blood.

Hyung. Stop moving.

He heard that loudly enough, probably because it was yelled directly to his ear. Fuck, it was so loud, everything was ringing.

“It’s too loud,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes tightly and covering his ears with his hands. If he couldn’t see or hear anything, maybe, just maybe, the world would open up and eat him. He choked on the realisation that it hadn’t worked.

His hands were pried off of his ears, and Minho opened his eyes to simply glare at whoever exposed him to the bells and turmoil again. His face softened when he realised it was Hyunjin, who was holding some white blur of an object in his hands.

“Hyunne,” he exclaimed, arms open wide to hug him, knocking the object away and only ending up falling face first onto his chest and crying again. Hyunjin held him through it, tapping a gentle rhythm against his skin. 

“When did you last eat?” Someone asked. 

“I don’t know.” He muttered into Hyunjin’s shirt. He realised a month ago that he hadn’t been eating much, struggling to stomach anything, but had no idea why he would admit that. Did that make him weak?

Felix and Hyunjin seemed to exchange a look, discussing something far beyond Minho’s comprehension level.

“Can I go sleep? ‘m so tired” he asked them, trying to pull himself up.

“Not until you tell us how much you drank exactly.” That was Felix. Hyunjin had gone to the kitchen, he noted.

“This,” he pointed to the nearly empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table, shakily gesturing to a point a bit higher up. “Was up to here before,” he groaned, remembering the glass he had knocked over again. He really had to clean that up now before someone else got hurt.

“I know that wasn’t everything,” Felix prompted.

“Um,” Minho tried racking his brain for the answer. It had to be in there somewhere. “Wine,” he says, gagging at the memory of the taste. “Mm… think two.”

“Two what?” Felix asked, so patient even though he looked so angry with him. Minho hoped he wasn’t angry. He wouldn’t be able to deal with that. He pouted at him, sniffling, hands grabbing at the air near Felix, hoping he would give him a hug to show he wasn’t annoyed with him.

“Bottles,” Hyunjin answered for him, coming from the kitchen with the bottles in hand.

“Disgusting,” Minho struggled to say, mumbling something somewhat similar as he pointed with his injured hand towards Hyunjin— he thinks at least. His hand was barely staying up. “I hate wine.” He stopped and stared at his extended hand. Someone had covered it with a bandage. Was it when they told him to stop moving? He hadn’t even realised.

“Okay, baby we know, but let’s make sure you’re okay first," Felix said, oh so carefully and gently trying to get Minho up to his feet.

He managed to drag Minho to the bathroom, setting him down on the floor in front of the toilet and settling himself behind him. Minho started uncontrollably sobbing again at the thought of throwing up, even though his own body was fighting against his mind and he felt the aftermath of his decisions rising up his throat. Felix also tried to convince him he had to get it out of his system and that this absolutely daunting task was somehow good for him, even just a little bit until they could get proper help.

Minho refused, pushing away and shaking his head furiously. That only made it ache more. He hated it, he hated everything right now.

“If you want any hope of remembering anything, please listen to m—,” Felix started, forcing Minho back to his previous position. Minho interrupted him with a shove, trying to pry his hands away from him. 

“I don’t want to remember,” he screamed, so loud he thought his voice would break. “I wanna forget, please let me forget.”

He collapsed back onto the floor, knees curled up to his chest, tears falling freely, uncontrollably. He could hear a third voice by the door, someone new that Hyunjin was talking to. He didn’t look, head feeling too heavy.

“Make it stop,” he pleaded, eyes unfocusing. He was suddenly getting very tired, only kept awake by Hyunjin who kept talking to him, and eventually managed to help him to throw up despite his tearful complaints. He didn’t think he felt any better.

He could vaguely feel himself being lifted up, carried and set down on his bed. People were mumbling around him, moving around the room and messing up the order he had everything in. They’re trying to help, he told himself as they helped him out of his clothes and into a new set of pyjamas. They're trying to help, he repeated to himself when they tucked him in. They're trying to help, he mumbled, still closing his eyes and crying quietly while the noise around him continued insistently, completely deafening.

He wasn’t sure how long it took before he passed out. Only that he woke up in the mid-late afternoon, head hammering with regret and fragments of memories that slowly formed a bigger picture. He knew how it all started at least. He groaned, trying to sit himself up in bed and rub the sleep out of his eyes. He still felt tired. He probably didn’t sleep as well as he should have. His whole body still felt impossibly heavy, sluggish as he tore the duvet away from his body, feet planted on the cool ground to stabilise himself. That’s when he saw the glass of water, and painkillers on his nightstand. He downed the entire glass.

“How do you feel?” Hyunjin asked when he stumbled his way into the living room, wanting to collapse onto the sofa.

“Like I crawled out of my own grave.” That was an understatement. His head was pounding, skin raw and red from clawing at it so desperately the night before, and he had probably cut his lifespan by half. Great.

“You almost did.” Ah. Seungmin. That was the person he had heard before. God, did they call him because he needed medical help? He felt even more stupid now.

“Come on, you really had to call a paramedic for me?” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood, wincing at the accompanying sharp pain through his head.

“Hyung, this is serious. You could have died,” Felix shouted at him, too loud. Minho wanted to say he knew, that he understood, that he was sorry. The words never came out.

“How could you be so stupid.” Felix was right, he knew it was a terrible idea before he even picked up the first glass.

“I’m really sorry I worried you,” he mumbled, genuine, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He didn’t know what he did to deserve friends like this, who came to his aid so early in the day, no questions asked.

Hyunjin seemed to take pity on him, standing up next to him and wrapping him in a hug that Minho completely melted into. He missed being held like this. “Please talk to us next time.” Hyunjin held him tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before letting him go.

“I will,” he said.

“I’m gonna come check on you in a few days to make sure your hand’s healing properly,” Seungmin broke the silence, comforting in his own way. In a way that would mean he didn’t have to be alone, something he probably had to avoid at all costs for a while. "And I'm taking all the alcohol you have." Minho would have laughed if Seungmin wasn't being so serious. He knew realistically he was lucky not to end up in hospital.

"Thank you," he mumbled, a small nod as he clasped his hands tightly together, to ground himself again maybe?

He was so grateful for all three of them. He really didn’t deserve them.

4 years 11 months

He should have spoken to Jisung. He should have told him how bad he was feeling. At least so they could work through it together and find some sort of solution. But he didn’t. And even though he had promised Seungmin that he would talk to him when he came to check up on his injuries, he kept pushing it back, claiming that the time wasn’t right, that he didn’t want to upset Jisung when important deadlines were coming up with work and that it would be better if they did it on call rather than over text.

Instead, he kept talking to him, messages short, dry, but still talking to him, because any interaction he could get he would latch onto, unwilling to let go. He was so desperate for any moment where Jisung would be there, his sweet voice soothing him as it once had even if it was only through the occasional rare voice note. He really wished he didn’t have to pretend he didn’t miss him still.

Beyond that, he would say he was getting a bit better at least? Outwardly mostly. Internally he still didn’t know how he felt. A part of him held onto so much pent up anger and sadness that he felt almost numb through it all, an empty shell of who he used to be. Another part felt relieved at the fact that he didn’t have to hide those feelings anymore and could work on truly admitting he needed help and working towards ‘feeling’ anything at all, hopefully something resembling contentment. The last part, the worst one, still kept him up at night with the hope that Jisung would remember him and talk to him.

Felix and Hyunjin were helping the most, distracting him at the studio while he slowly got back into teaching and choreographing, finally able to come up with decent ideas again. He forgot how much he missed dancing. He had started meeting up with Jeongin at the cafe the younger worked at as well, helping him with his university work by reading his various drafts and sharing his thoughts, truly quite impressed by how far their youngest in the group had come along. He was sure he could easily publish a book soon, if he really wanted to. Minho eventually also decided to join Changbin and Chan at the gym since he hadn’t gone with them in far too long, body aching the first day but slowly getting used to the familiar actions and exercises, remembering them easily the more he went. It was a change of pace, something he should have welcomed long ago instead of shutting off the world entirely.

He did end up admitting to all his friends what was going on, Chan being particularly disappointed that he hadn’t felt comfortable enough to share his struggles until then– until it was too late. It was difficult to explain that they weren’t the reason for his delay in talking about it, but just nodding along and apologising seemed easier at the time.

Seungmin had been the hardest to talk to. He cared about him deeply of course, and he knew Seungmin did in his own way as well, but after having to check on his injuries for so long and make sure he hadn’t hurt himself or done anything stupid again after every sign of emotional regression he felt more like a burden than a friend. They did start by going to karaoke again for Seungmin’s birthday, then again just them two for Minho’s. He thought having too many of his friends there would remind him of the very obvious void. Seven felt odd after there being eight of them for so long.

By forcing himself to have a schedule, something to do with each of his friends almost every day, he managed to build up a comfortable pattern. Some days were harder than others of course, but he knew now that he had his friends by his side. He simply didn’t talk about Jisung around them, knowing that they would force him to do what absolutely needed to be done. He knew they thought the distance was too much, hurting him more than it realistically should have. He didn’t want them to know he still missed him, even after all the heartache. Those dreaded words never came up, but he knew they were all thinking them. ‘Break up.’ It was a simple concept. Simple act of four words ‘we should break up’. It hurt thinking about it, so much that he hadn’t even said those words to himself, worried that if he were to admit that was the best outcome for him, he would subconsciously also break down and never be able to build himself back up again. He knew they should break up. But he didn’t know if he could do it.

5 years 2 months

They missed their anniversary over an urgent meeting. Celebrated two weeks later with dinner and a call like the year before. It had felt different this time around. It was Valentine’s Day soon, just under two weeks. Minho wondered if Jisung would have planned anything like he did every year before. But first: the call they had managed to arrange for today.

Minho

I’m here

He waited. He didn’t know why he was still waiting.

Jisung

Just got back

I’ll call you now?

 

Minho

Mhm

The call that day was quiet, as though neither of them had the heart to ask if something was wrong even though they both knew it was.

It took a few minutes for Jisung to speak up first. “I miss you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Minho hummed in agreement, already feeling tears pooling in his eyes. He didn’t want to get emotional like this, not when he told himself he was done constantly waiting for Jisung.

“I miss you too,” his voice broke, the tears silently streaming down his face. He shouldn’t feel upset, he really shouldn’t. It was fine, he was fine, they were talking now, right?

“Baby, don’t cry, I’m so sorry.” Jisung, sweet as ever. The reason for all his heartache.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself saying, sniffling yet foolishly trying to hide it. “I’m okay,” he said, maybe to himself above all else.

“I promise next time I’ll be here earlier.” Promise… That’s what he said the last few times. Minho foolishly believed him every single time. “Please try to get some sleep, though? It’s really late.”

“Can you stay on the call?” he asked, hopeful. He was met with silence for the next few seconds. What else was he expecting? 

“I need to get up early so I can’t, jagi.” Jagi. Again. Why did that alone hurt so much more than anything else he had said? “I can stay until you fall asleep?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

A small victory, that’s all he needed. He might have spent the next few minutes silently screaming into his pillow, practiced well enough by now to know that Jisung wouldn’t be able to hear him cry, but at least he had Jisung for the next few minutes. That was enough…

The next time they planned to call was Valentine’s Day. Minho stayed up waiting an extra hour after the time they arranged. Jisung never went online.

He ended up passing out by around 4, eyes dry and puffy from crying. His sleep wasn’t peaceful. Dreams— Nightmares of ‘what could have been’ were haunting his subconscious. What if Jisung never accepted the job? Maybe they’d be spending the night together right now, cuddling and watching whatever new show they had found. Minho couldn’t even bring himself to find shows to watch recently to make him happy, to make him forget— they all reminded him of Jisung. What if Minho had gone to America with him? Then they'd be walking this new path together instead of drowning an ocean apart. What if Minho tried harder to stay in touch…

5 years 3 months

Jisung

We should talk

They never made it to six years. The ring Minho had bought a few months after they moved in together, a few weeks before Jisung gave the news that forever changed them, it lay abandoned in his bedside table, haunting him in its red velvet box. He didn’t think it would have ended like this, so suddenly, even after all their time together. He never once thought being apart would break them both like this.

Part of him wished they had broken up because of an argument. The truth was they never had a reason to argue, no reason to truly be mad at each other. It was only the distance that made it harder, that caused their emotions to take over. Minho spent so much time hopelessly staying up at night, hopeful for any sort of change, really wishing that Jisung would manage to find time for him again. He never did. Minho fell into utter despair instead.

He wished things could have been different– maybe if he reached out more, or maybe if he tried harder. But at the same time it felt like nothing he did would have ever been enough. Even the once happy memories he had of their time together felt tainted, the red glass he was looking through slowly cracking and revealing to him all the times he spent hoping, only to be left with nothing but tears. Now he knew, he had waited for a love that would never be returned as it once had been.