Chapter Text
A year and two months later
Jisung was on the brink of hyperventilation, standing in front of the mirror. The makeup and hair stylist were long gone, so was his stylist.
Could he do this again? It has been four years since his last concern.
This was something different. Jisung was not performing at a stadium for thousands of people to see him. It was an intimate affair for 800 lucky fans and a few friends. Yet, he still wondered if he had prepared enough. He wondered if people would like his new songs, as few as they were. If he had poured his heart too much into it, or too little.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Jisung said in a hushed voice. He ran a hand through his hair despite what the hairstylist had told him and turned to the door.
Chan came in, smiling widely. “Are you ready?”
Jisung let out a breathy and forced laugh. “No. Is he here?”
Chan’s smile faltered. “I am not sure, man. He did not answer my email. I hope so. I sent him the ticket.”
Jisung nodded.
Minho had told him to go find him when Jisung was ready. Jisung had not done exactly that.
He wasn’t sure if he was ready for Minho. Maybe he never would be.
Minho deserved someone who was whole, not falling apart. He deserved someone who could do what he had done for Jisung, should he need it. Jisung wasn’t strong enough to bring anyone out of darkness. He was barely out of it himself.
The truth is, Minho had given Jisung much more than he ever deserved or expected, and, for a long time after Jisung left the resort, he was not sure if he could do the same for Minho. He feared he’d fall into his old patterns. Even though he had invited Minho to come watch him, he still wondered if he was strong enough to make good choices and keep himself going without external help.
Yet… he had been unable to stop thinking about Minho.
All Jisung could do now was try. He had to try.
“You should have talked to him,” Chan said for the one hundredth time.
The night Jisung kissed Minho was a night of clarity.
Knowing that Minho was leaving the resort had deeply cut him. It was like losing a crutch. Jisung doubted he would be able to move on from it. But with the pain of Minho’s departure, so came a flood of feelings that Jisung was unable to contain within himself. More than speaking about what he felt for Minho in any therapy session, Jisung had let it all pour out onto the paper.
He wrote until night fell and until the sun came up again. Not lyrics. Music was not on his mind that night.
Jisung wrote everything he had felt that had led him to Minho. From the moment he stopped writing years ago, to the moment that he watched Minho leave his room.
It was different from the things he had told Hyunjin. To the therapist, Jisung had recalled what happened to him. On the paper, Jisung wrote down how they made him feel.
The songs came much later. After he had organized all those feelings on paper, his mind couldn’t help but put melodies together with the words.
And so, a few months after he had left the resort, Jisung found himself at the recording studio recording six songs for a new album.
“No,” Jisung said as he had said before. “I want him to see me perform because he said he wanted to. He is the reason I got back into writing, after all. This is more for him than anyone else.”
Chan nodded, smile gone. He pursed his lips.
“And if he knows that, he will come.”
Jisung wondered if Minho was out there with the rest of the crowd. He wondered if Minho had moved on, it Jisung had taken too long, if he didn’t care to see Jisung ever again.
“Fuck it. I am ready,” Jisung said, standing up and picking up his guitar.
It was now or never, and Jisung would try.
-
With a short introduction, Jisung entered the stage amid endless applause.
He bowed, low and long. Then took his seat on the simple stool and brought the microphone close.
Cheeks burning, he smiled widely. He was nervous. So nervous, the good kind of nervous.
He loved being on stage, and he had missed it. Very few things in life beat the exhilarating feeling of standing in front of hundreds of people. He almost preferred this intimate environment to a big stadium. It gave him a sense that he was among friends.
And truly, he was. He looked down at the first row of chairs. Seungmin and Changbin sat next to each other. Then, next to Changbin, Chan smiled beautifully at him, followed by Felix and other childhood friends. Among the familiar friends was an empty chair. Minho was not there. Maybe he wouldn’t be. But this wouldn’t prevent Jisung from performing.
The applause ceased as Jisung got closer to the mic. Sitting comfortably, he held his guitar proudly.
“Thank you. Thank you all for being here,” he acknowledged the band behind him, too.
Smiling back at the crowd, he breathed deeply and closed his eyes.
It was such a long road until this very moment. He needed to calm down.
As he opened his eyes, he saw some movement down the stage.
Minho?
Minho.
Minho was there, being escorted to the front row and finding his seat. He silently and sternly stared at Jisung on stage.
Jisung let out a wet chuckle as his stomach flipped.
Minho looked so good. As good as ever.
Relief. Such relief.
Perhaps there was hope for them.
“Wow,” Jisung couldn’t help but say into the mic. The crowd laughed. “I’ve been away from the stage for too long. I am kind of nervous looking at all of you here.”
More laughter, a few cheers. When the crowd quiets down again, Jisung managed to say a part of the speech that he had rehearsed the whole day.
“This was only possible thanks to two people. Chan, my manager and, dare I say, best friend. Thanks for pushing me to find my music again. And the other one, well…” Jisung looked down at his guitar, adjusting his fingers, unable to look at Minho. “He gave me a notebook and told me to write again if I ever felt like it. He told me to go find him after. I never did. But I did write, and you’re the inspiration for this album. So I hope this serves as an overdue apology. I wouldn’t be on this stage if it weren’t for you… I hope I don’t disappoint.”
Jisung didn’t dare look at Minho while he spoke. But when he was done, his curiosity spoke louder, and he did steal a glance at the man.
Minho had a small, genuine smile on his lips.
Alright. Maybe he doesn’t hate me.
So Jisung did the one thing he still knew how to do. He sang and played his guitar.
The band behind him accompanied him as they should.
It was impossible to take his eyes away from Minho.
It was only when the first song ended, and the applause and cheers came again, that Jisung looked at the rest of the crowd.
They all seemed to have liked what they heard. Loved, even.
The whole album had come from a deep place inside Jisung. It was raw and poetic. It depicted his struggles and shortcomings, his pain and vices, but more than that, it was a hopeful album. It talked about recovery, resilience, and passion for life. For not wanting to stop living it. For finding something and someone to impress, to look up to.
Jisung was, more than ever, excited about what it was to come. For his music and for himself.
He sang, song after song, seeking the truth in the eyes of the crowd as he went on.
It’ll be alright, he thought. And indeed he was right. Everything went well. A beautiful concert for a beautiful crowd. It was honest. There was a few tears shared, feelings shared. They still loved him.
Claps.
Yelling.
Joy.
Jisung exited the stage smiling brightly, too content with the public’s reaction to his new collection of songs.
It was only when he entered the dressing room again that panic took over him.
Chan was already in there waiting for him. He took one look at Jisung and opened his arms wide.
“Come here,” he said, engulfing Jisung in a hug. “You did it. It went beautifully. I’m proud of you.”
Chan’s words meant so much to him. Jisung was pleased. He was proud of himself, too. For recovering, for writing again, for restoring Chan’s hope in him.
“Thanks, hyung,” Jisung hugged him back, albeit nervously.
Chan put space between them. He nodded. “Should I go get him?”
Jisung didn’t let himself think twice.
“Please,” Jisung nodded, a serious tone trying to hide his anxiety in seeing Minho close to him again.
-
There was a light knock, and the door opened slowly. Jisung gulped. He turned on his makeup chair and watched Minho enter the dressing room quietly. Gingerly.
Jisung could see that he was trying to hide a smile. Maybe he wanted to be mad at Jisung, but couldn’t.
“Hi,” Jisung said, too low and apprehensively.
Minho looked him up and down, leaning against the wall. “Congrats,” he said, seeming honest. “You’re amazing on stage. Your song–”
Jisung stood up abruptly, and only when he was too close to Minho did he realize that maybe he shouldn’t give in to his desires to devour Minho right here and now, should he want otherwise.
But, by god, he looked even better up close. Just as Jisung remembered from that night at his hotel room. Same strong, lean built. Beautiful hair, sincere eyes. His nose. Fuck.
He stooped a foot from Minho. “Did you really like it?”
Minho bit his lower lip. Jisung wondered what he was not letting himself say or do, too.
“Yes,” he said in a low voice. “Yes, Jisung. Of course I did.”
Jisung blushed. He waited a beat and gathered the courage to say, “It’s for you, you know?”
“For me?”
“Yes. The album. This,” Jisung gestured behind him, towards the stage.
Minho looked down, shaking his head. “No. It’s all for you and because of you. I did nothing.”
Jisung chuckled, shuffling closer to Minho. “No. See, that’s where you’re wrong. I only got this far because I had help along the way. And maybe I would have gotten here on my own one day if I had tried. But there was a much bigger reason for me to want to get better this much faster.”
Minho’s eyes roamed Jisung’s face. “Yeah?” He fidgeted with his hands.
For all the times that they interacted, Jisung had never seen Minho behaving this way. So coily.
Jisung liked it.
“Yeah. You’re the reason, Minho.” His voice came out low, but steady.
Minho seemed to let out a shuddering breath. He closed his eyes.
“You’re not mad at me,” not a question, but Jisung wanted to make sure.
Minho opened his eyes. They were too close now. Everything else seemed to fade away in the background. The music outside, the crowd leaving the theater, the bustling of the staff in the corridor outside.
“I am not. I told you to come find me if you wanted to and if you were ready.”
Jisung nodded. He stepped into Minho’s space. One leg on each side of his feet. Jisung’s hands tentatively landed on Minho’s waist, just above his pants.
He gulped at the proximity. His heart hammered in his chest, but he wanted to put on this strong front for Minho. Maybe he could do this.
Maybe he could be as brave with Minho as he had been by going back on stage.
Jisung leaned, whispering next to Minho’s ear. “I am ready now.”
Minho didn’t move. He breathed deeply, and Jisung wondered once more about all the things Minho was keeping to himself. He was seldom a person who contained his words. He could measure his words, but didn’t hide away. Was he nervous? Was he as nervous as Jisung?
“And you came,” Jisung added.
“I came,” Minho agreed.
Jisung looked at Minho’s eyes again, expectantly.
“It didn’t cross my mind not to come.”
Jisung hid his smile. Some tension left his body. His fingers played with the bottom of Minho’s sweater. Minho wasn’t pushing him away.
“There was not a single day that you failed to cross my mind, hyung.”
Minho nodded slowly.
He watched Jisung in turn, trying to read his eyes. “How was being on stage again?”
A smile automatically opened on Jisung’s face, wide and proud. Minho smiled back, waiting for a response.
“Amazing. Yet… I was so nervous. Nervous that people wouldn’t like my music. Nervous you wouldn’t come. That I’d fail. That my voice would falter,” Jisung let it out, squeezing Minho’s waist lightly. His voice is small yet sincere.
He smiled again and dropped his forehead to Minho’s shoulder. “But it was so good in the end. So, so good. I am glad you came.” The last bit came out almost as a whisper.
There was so much he wanted to tell Minho. So much he wanted to do with Minho. He wasn’t sure how much to push for it at the moment. Wasn’t sure if he was allowed it all. It was all very new and sudden.
To have Minho in front of him was the realization of a dream he had dreamed for many months.
Jisung finally felt Minho’s hand wrap around his neck, carefully playing with the longer strands of hair. “You’ve gotten better at letting your feelings out,” he said matter-of-factly.
Jisung could hear the smile in his tone.
They were so silly. So into each other. How could he have ever thought that Minho wouldn’t come?
“Hyung,” Jisung reluctantly put space between them, but just enough to make Minho pay attention to what he was going to say. He needed to say this When he was sure he had Minho’s full attention, he continued. Minho watched him carefully. “I am truly sorry for not having contacted you before–”
Minho tried to interrupt him, possibly to dismiss the apology, but Jisung wouldn’t have it.
“Please, let me say this. You should know my true feelings for you.”
Minho nodded, pursing his lips, but intrigued. Jisung took a deep breath and continued, “You told me to wait until I was ready, but if I waited to be what you truly deserved– the perfect partner you deserve, I’d have never gone after you. This is me, hyung. I am flawed. I sometimes dismiss my feelings; I feel sad at times, and I hide away from the world when I feel overwhelmed. But I am trying. I am trying to be better. I am keeping a healthier routine, making a point not to isolate often, and working on understanding why I feel what I feel rather than ignoring it. I am better than when we met. That is why I asked Chan to invite you here. I am never going to be perfect, but I am not in pieces now. Much of it thanks to you, and I will try my best to give you everything you ask of me.” For all that Jisung had practiced the speech, he was still nervous. But, in the end, it came out all right.
He watched Minho hopefully, who gulped in turn.
Jisung couldn’t completely read him now. He guessed Minho was containing too many emotions behind his serious front.
Minho watched him for a long moment, debating with himself. Until he let out a wet chuckle. Suddenly, Minho connected his hands with Jisung’s collar and pulled him close again.
“I’ve always liked you just the way you are. I didn’t want to stay away from you before, and I don’t want to stay away from you now,” Minho whispered in the space between Jisung’s neck and shoulder. “Can you do something for me?”
A long breath exited Jisung’s lungs. More tension gone, he nodded, biting his lower lip. He’d do anything Minho asked. He’d do anything for Minho if he meant to keep them this close.
Minho’s breath was making his skin too warm. The proximity of their bodies, and the fact that Minho wasn't touching him freely but with some restraint was driving him insane. He closed his eyes, waiting for Minho to continue.
“Can we get out of here to talk and…” Minho chuckled, lost in thought. “And just be for a while? I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”
Jisung was surprised at the request, but turned his face enough to whisper into Minho’s ear. “There are many things I want to say and do to you.”
Jisung knew they needed to talk. More than anything, he wanted to tell Minho how his life changed after the resort. But, of course, all that could be done sans any clothes and in the privacy of his bedroom. Jisung had dreamed about that too.
Minho let out a noise that sounded like a mix of excitement and pain. When he composed himself enough, he let go of Jisung’s shirt and cleared his throat. “Good. Because I am currently unemployed and have all the time in the world.”
Jisung took a step back, momentarily taken by surprise. “What? What about the resort? You love that place.”
Minho looked down, then up at Jisung again, trying to find the right words.
“For as much as I love to try to make people’s lives better at a place like that, the goodbyes got to be too hard, and– one goodbye in particular was too overwhelming.”
He blushed, making Jisung blush too.
“I don’t want to rush things but…” Minho fidgeted with his hands. It was endearing for Jisung to see him like that, nervous and anxious about them. “If we’re doing this—if things go the way I want them to go, I do not want to be stuck in a place without being able to spend proper time with the person I care about for eight months.”
“Right,” Jisung nodded, smiling perhaps too widely.
“And–” Minho continued, just as unsure. “I have other practices I want to explore. You know, maybe if I have a more stable schedule, I can get a cat or something. Maybe have a boyfriend.”
Jisung blinked at him, too in love with this idea of a future with Minho and maybe a cat, too.
“Say something, please,” Minho pleaded.
Jisung kept the mystery of not saying anything for exact five seconds, until Minho looked like he would explode, then said, “I want that, too, Minho. So much. I want all my songs to be about you from now on.”
He didn’t let Minho respond.
Jisung took Minho’s hand and pulled him out of the dressing room, “Let’s go. Let’s go talk and do other things.”
Jisung texted Chan on the way to his apartment as he and Minho sat together in the back seat of a town car, hands linked between them. Chan would give everyone else an excuse about Jisung not showing his face post-concert and let them all drink at his expense. They’d all understand when Jisung undoubtedly came back with the news that his friends had been patiently waiting to hear: that he and Minho were well and together. And that he planned on keeping Minho in his life for a long, long time.
Jisung was not perfect. Truthfully, no one was. But it was his determination to keep doing what he loved and not letting the ones he loved down anymore that kept him going. His newfound purpose was this: to keep himself well and his loved ones happy as much as he could. Minho had become a big part of that group, and Jisung would strive never to fall into a place where he was no longer proud of himself. His biggest lesson learned from the last several months was that all he could do was try his best. And that’d have to do.
There was a vision in Jisung’s mind about his future as they approached his apartment building. One that involved Minho in his home, sharing it with him, maybe a cat, just because Minho wanted a pet, and endless nights of music and whatever Minho wanted to do, because all Jisung wanted was to have him close.
For now, however, Jisung would enjoy this; Minho with his hand on Jisung’s leg. Minho hugging him as the elevator door closes. Minho entering Jisung’s apartment and not taking his shoes off because he was too busy kissing Jisung. Minho removing his own clothes, then Jisung’s clothes. Minho spilling the most beautiful notes from his lips, and Jisung swearing he’s never heard such a pretty melody. Minho staying the night. Minho listening then talking. Minho with enough time for him and Jisung with enough headspace and heart-space to welcome Minho in.