Chapter Text
“Eomma, it’s not that hard,” Minho breathed through his nose, trying to calm himself down. “There has to be an icon on your screen.”
Right now, on his phone screen, he could see his mom’s rimmed glasses and her forehead, nothing else. He was used to that, though. During the time he was at uni, he would only get to see half of her face. He was dying to see her completely by the next break.
At least it was better than his father. He didn’t even have a phone that allowed videocalls.
“I’m telling you there’s not,” she also seemed exasperated, which contrasted a lot with her usual quiet behavior. “Besides, we don’t need it. Look, I can just turn the phone around.”
Oh, yes. Perfect. Now he could perfectly see his house’s flooring and a quarter of Dori’s ear.
Minho only wanted to see his brothers: Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. Being away from them felt like a constant pull on his heartstrings, trying to get him back to Gimpo. If only Minho could be with them now; he really needed to feed them some churu and lay down with them.
Anyways, he was too tired to argue with his mom and her camera. Twenty minutes had gone by already and he wasn’t about to waste any more.
“Sure.”
“They miss you.”
At that moment, a notification for a new message showed up on the screen.
Sungie
wanna watch the new ep tonight?
Minho ignored the squeeze of his heart when reading Jisung’s words.
No double question marks. No plsssss. No it’s like almost the finale you HAVE to come.
It was strange, how fast Jisung had started writing differently once he realized Minho was avoiding him. Once two days had passed and Minho kept on making up excuses not to see him, Jisung had understood something was going on. Usually, his best friend was very slow when figuring these types of things out. It weirdly made Minho proud of his sharpness, and at the same time it broke his heart. The process of separating from Jisung had started.
Doongie’s huge body appeared on screen for a second. Minho thought about teletransportation. He was too tired to drive up home. Having all these new thoughts about Jisung and his soulmate getting to know each other was eating at him. Energy drinks weren’t it anymore. He needed to squeeze one of his cats to get his life back.
“I miss them more,” he whispered, looking now at Soonie’s white and orange foot. “I also miss you, eomma.”
“Of course you miss me, who’s feeding you like you deserve if you don’t have me?”
Minho rolled his eyes. “Ah, myself, of course.”
“Thank god you know how,” she turned the phone to herself. At least he’d gotten to see a bit of each. “Don’t go around ordering fast food, okay?”
“Me? Never,” he lied blatantly. He was a good cook, but a college student nonetheless. He had to order in from time to time. “Let me see the cats again, please.”
“You only call me to see them,” she complained, turning the phone to the cats again to no avail. Now there was just white fur everywhere.
“Noo, I call you to talk to you. When I videocall then yes, it’s for them.”
Minho’s mom knew better than to fall into that trap. She was well aware that this was his teasing way of showing affection.
Instead, she showed her face once again and went about the mandatory mom questions:
“How’s school? And your next dancing performance? And when are you coming for Winter break?”
Minho informed his mom about everything. He told her about having all his assignments in order, about the performance at the end of the month, right before Winter break, and the fact that he would leave for Gimpo as soon as he could.
He didn’t tell her about how depressed he’d been for the past few days. But how could he? She only knew that Jisung was his best friend, and she loved him based on the two times he’d visited. His mom had no idea about the complicated situation Minho had put himself in.
When she asked about his mood, he just chalked it up to end-of-semester nerves. It was a perfect time to be mopey, actually, because he could focus on other meaningful things until he could leave for two months to rest at home until graduation.
In the end, he not only missed another hang out with his best friend, but Minho also didn’t get to see a full cat on the screen. Great.
***
It was a late practice day. Actually, they were well into the night, so it was officially a ‘practice night’ at the studio. No worries, though. Minho had the keys to the whole building; as the senior and dance team leader, he’d gained the respect of the security guards over the years.
They just couldn’t get the chorus, and it was imperative that the steps were clear before they were allowed to leave. It was a three-person dance, so any mistake would be very noticeable by the audience.
It was quiet for a long time, only labored breaths and hard steps on the floor. Hyunjin was sweating like crazy, as always, and Yongbok was silently cursing each time they failed to end it perfectly.
Until it happened. The magic moment where all their movements clicked into place. That’s when Minho decided he had to run.
Let’s say that, because of Minho’s choice to start cutting Jisung out, the group balance had been affected. He could say he felt guilty about it but, at this time, he couldn’t see himself pretending to be fine in front of everyone. It was better like this.
So, it was evident that kind-hearted Yongbok was designated to fix things. If Chan were here, he would try to do the same. Minho wished they could be more like Seungmin and just enjoy other’s pain while also not giving a fuck.
He could smell the blond’s intentions from the other side of the room, that’s why Minho hurried the fuck up to pick up his things and leave.
However, he hadn’t thought of Hyunjin being Yongbook’s minion and using his long limbs to stretch over the exit door, covering his only escape route.
“So, there’s this party,” a deep voice informed behind him.
Yeah, no.
Minho stayed silent, looking ahead as if pretending not to hear anything.
“You should come. Channie wants you there.”
He almost chuckled at that.
Who cares what Channie wants?
“I also want so many things, and that doesn’t mean I get them.”
He hadn’t planned for his careless words to sound so harsh and real. They’d hurt more than he’d expected.
“I know life’s shitty for you right now, but you can’t just withdraw from everyone,” Minho hadn’t been withdrawing from everyone. He was at the studio, after all. Minho had just been avoiding one particular person. “Much less from him. He’s so confused.”
Not Yongbokie using Jisung to manipulate Minho. Classic.
He’d been amazing at not crossing paths with him for almost a week. A record, really.
So, Minho wasn’t going. The last thing he needed was to see Jisung in person.
“Sorry, Yongbokie, not a chance.”
***
The party was just as Minho had expected it to be. Chill, close-friends-only and all about drinking games.
After showering and throwing on some random clothes —black long-sleeved tee and a pair of sweats—, Minho found himself at Chan’s dorm, hair still wet and patience running low.
He’d chosen peace. He’d chosen to come so his friends wouldn’t worry too much about him. It was clear by everyone now how he felt about his best friend, not like he hadn’t always been obvious. His expressionless face wasn’t as good as he’d hoped. He’d seen the looks from Changbin whenever Jisung graced his thigh, he’d felt Jeongin’s stare whenever he’d laughed embarrassedly loud at one of Jisung’s stupid jokes.
Whatever. It’s a loud secret among the group. All of them were very aware except, well, the person who everything was about.
So Minho’s plan was to get away with mingling with his friends and quickly pulling an Irish goodbye whenever people were too drunk to notice. He was tired from practice so he had a great excuse already.
Chan found him in the kitchen, the place he’d run to hide the moment he’d crossed Chan’s threshold.
“You made it!” his huge arm went around Minho’s shoulders.
“Barely.”
His hyung laughed, but Minho sensed he was just pretending it had been a joke for the sake of both of their moods.
“Thank you for coming. I understand-”
Minho had to cut the paternal shit quick, trying not to hurt the palms of his hands with his nails. He couldn’t handle this right now.
“I have been busy with work and exams, that’s it.”
There’s this thing about Chan hyung that Minho really appreciates, and that is that he’d always pretend for Minho’s sake. If Minho didn’t want to talk about it, then they wouldn’t.
“Then I’m happy you found some spare time for us. Come to the living room, we’re starting APT.”
Minho usually didn’t drink. He didn’t enjoy not being in control. However, tonight it might be better if he let loose tonight. He couldn’t afford to look around the room and find Jisung every two seconds. For once, he had hoped for a full-blown party where he could get lost among people, instead of having to sit in a circle with just his closest friends.
Funny, how he’d managed to transform his favorite plan into a nightmare.
He didn’t know what hurt the most once he entered the living room, the faces of his friends looking at him as if he were a kicked puppy or Jisung’s presence there.
Granted, maybe he was exaggerating and the looks were very well hidden, but he was starting to get paranoid. So he decided to be upfront about it. Lying out loud so that the pretending act could extend to everyone present.
“Sorry everyone for being absent this week. Finals and rehearsals have been hard and, honestly, I’ve been missing Soondoongdori a lot.”
Throwing in a little emotion always helped. Plus, Minho wasn’t lying, he was just omitting information.
“Soondoongdori! How are they?”
Changbin got gracefully baited into focusing on the cats, and so Minho started talking about them with a huge smile on his face.
In the middle of explaining one of their latest veterinary scares, Minho eyes found Jisung, and stayed there for a couple of seconds just to prove he was completely okay with the current situation they were in.
Because Minho had just understood the importance of him coming tonight. He wanted to convince Jisung that he was okay and that his best friend hadn’t done anything wrong. Knowing Jisung, he could start feeling guilty about Minho being suddenly cold. Minho couldn’t forgive himself if that happened.
Jisung was smiling faintly, but that was just his default face. It was weird having him on the other side of the circle, since they always sat next to each other at social gatherings. Minho needed him to whisper stupid comments to his ear and entertain him, and Jisung needed Minho to do the same back to calm his social anxiety.
Adjusting a backwards hat that Minho found unreasonably hot, Jisung seemed more relaxed by the second. He would find Minho to talk face to face at some point of the night, though. Minho was sure of it.
They played APT, boring. But then someone proposed harder games of strategy and numbers and everyone started really drinking then. And, when they got drunk, the singing started.
Hyunjin was draped all over Minho, and then Changbin got jealous and threw himself over as well. Minho chuckled, happy and warm. Then, he felt Jeongin’s camera flash go off.
“Cute throuple,” he said, smiling to the camera.
“Ew, no. Don’t involve me with whatever these two have.”
Minho tried to get rid of them. Changbin agreed.
“That’s right! Jinnie is my wife, I don’t want Minho hyung.”
Because all of them had started to have less control over their bodies, it was hard to detangle all the limbs from each other. At least they had Seungmin’s and Chan’s voices as a melodic background to their odyssey.
It was Felix who offered to play a few rounds of Twister. It was a mess.
While Minho declined at first, he was soon convinced to participate. He lasted long, all of the dancers in the group did.
“Let’s go, I.N-ah!” Jisung yelled
“What the fuck did you just call him?” Chan chuckled, incredulous. The whole room was surprised by that name.
“Oh, that’s Jeongin’s new name: I.N.”
“Why?” Hyunjin asked between loud laughs.
“Literally no reason,” Jeongin muttered.
“He needs a stage name with that voice!” Jisung explained, as if it was obvious.
Everyone decided to continue playing, leaving Jisung to his own creations.
At some point, it was just Yongbokie and Minho on the mat. They were sweaty, but not about to tap out, they were too proud for that. Most of their friends were chatting, having forgotten about Twister for some time now.
Seungmin yelled the next direction, right arm to green. Minho rolled up his sleeves because it was getting to hot and, frankly, they were getting in the way more often than not.
There was an immediate reaction from the blond guy below him. A loud gasp that made both of them tremble and fall.
Too many things happened all at once. First, Seungmin screaming BAR BAR and pretending this was a soccer match by drawing an imaginary square with his index fingers. Second, Hyunjin jumping up, regaining his balance, and immediately copying him by matching his volume. Third, Chan coming to check on his boyfriend while whisper-shouting them to quiet down. Fourth, Yongbok’s eyes almost falling from their sockets.
Fith, Minho’s whole life coming down.
Minho could’ve blamed the mishap on his drunkenness, true. It was just a roll-up of his sleeves, something he’d done before. Usually, though, he would have something covering his forearm. From sweatshirts to simple band aids, the mark was small enough to hide easily.
Plus, he ran cold most of the time. During the winter, he always wore long sleeves underneath his clothes. He really never had a problem hiding his soulmark. Or maybe people were less observant than he’d thought.
He wasn’t ready this time. This was supposed to be a quick in and out hang out.
Whatever it was, someone other than himself seeing it was new for Minho.
He was glad that Changbin and Jisung were far, rapping to each other like the weirdos they were.
Thankfully, Yongbok was quick on his feet, making up an excuse to bring Minho (who’d straightened his t-shirt again) to the bathroom to check on a weird crack his shoulder had made when falling to the ground. It was hard to leave Chan behind, clingy as ever, but one sharp look from his boyfriend was enough to sat him down.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he shrugged once the bathroom door was closed, the movement making his body sway to one side clumsily.
Yongbokie’s eyes were huge and dark. He could’ve looked scary if it weren’t for his permanent case of fairy-face.
“You don’t need to say anything! What the fuck, hyung? You just though you could hide this forever?”
Okay. He needed to calm the blond down. Minho could get into real trouble if their voices were heard from here.
“Listen, this doesn’t change anything. I still believe in the same values. I don’t care that it’s there.”
“You’re delusional, Minho.” Normally, using his first name in a sentence like that would have Minho talking back at him, telling him to be respectful towards his elders. However, he was too drunk and embarrassed by the situation to do so. “I can’t believe you’ve never told him.”
Him again. Ugh.
“What do you mean him? Why him specifically?”
It’s always about Jisung, isn’t it? It has to be. Minho’s life seemed to revolve around him, even if he tried his best to escape him.
And there’s nothing wrong with keeping secrets from your best friend. More so if they are related to soulmate stuff; that kind of stuff is private.
For all he knew, Jisung didn’t even have a mark. He’d never shown it. His best friend was adamant that the mark itself was special and, because of it, something to only be shared with a soulmate. At least until he’d find her.
Guess he’d found her now, so probably the mark was public domain these days.
Would Minho ask to see it now? His heart was already broken, so who cares anymore.
“You know what I mean. This is important for Jisung. Why lie to him?”
“He only cares about his soulmate.” And that’s not me.
Minho’s sad confession had the blond retracting, conflicted expression on his face.
“We are having this conversation. Soon. When we are sober and I can choke everything out of you.”
“Mmm choking,” he tried to make the situation lighter by also wiggling his eyebrows.
“Not the time to joke,” his deep voice seemed final. Minho decided to shut up.
Yongbok went to open the door hastily, unaware that, on the other side of it, someone had been putting their ear to listen to their conversation.
They fell on the floor clumsily, and it didn’t take Minho more than a second to realize who it was. There just weren’t many people who could fall like that and make such a tangled mess of their limbs as gracefully as Han Jisung did.
He looked like a cockroach, belly up, arms and legs towards the ceiling. Desperate round eyes shinning in their direction.
“Hi,” a high-pitched version of his voice said. “I didn’t hear anything I swear.”
Fuck.