Chapter Text
“What the fuck are you staring at, Jesus freak?”
Jisung flinched at the sound of the angry voice. Shit, was I staring again? It wasn’t like he meant to; he just couldn’t help that Joon and his boyfriend were some of the most attractive people in the school. Objectively, of course– he didn’t like boys– or, well, anyone– like that, but enough of the girls gushed about their looks, it would’ve been impossible for Jisung not to notice. Especially when they were cozied up together in the school courtyard, sitting as close as possible without actually sitting on each other, and exchanging fond whispers and soft kisses. It was attention-grabbing, alright?
“N-Nothing,” he mumbled, cursing himself internally for stuttering. His anxiety had always been bad, but ever since he’d started at that school, it had gotten so much worse. Sure, he hadn’t had friends other than Minho growing up, but no one had been outright cruel to him until then. On the first day, the bullying started because he hadn’t understood Korean social customs, and hadn’t greeted the upperclassmen formally enough for their liking. In his English language class, they claimed he talked funny, but it wasn’t his fault that his teacher in Malaysia had been British.
The one thing he was bullied over that he could control was the cross necklace he wore. Apparently, the high school had a very prominent LGBTQIA+ population, and when those students noticed his necklace, plus the fact that he often found himself watching them curiously, they all assumed he was religious and homophobic. He was neither. Well, definitely not homophobic, anyway. He’d been raised Christian, and his mother had insisted he attend church with them during their years in Malaysia, convinced it would be a great place for him to make friends. He’d been the only kid his age, and wasn’t too keen on trying to make friends with kindergarteners, and the older teenagers wanted nothing to do with him. Since they’d moved back, his mother had dropped the church requirement, but having spent many years so involved with the church, some things just stuck. Plus, the necklace had been his grandmother’s, and he really didn’t want to stop wearing it. So he did his best to keep his head down and keep a low profile, which usually worked. But apparently that day was the last straw for Joon.
The senior stopped in front of him, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Oh, you’re calling me and my boyfriend ‘nothing’ now?”
Jisung shook his head rapidly. “That’s not what I–”
“Save it, you little homophobe. You’ve been gawking at us since the semester started and I’m sick of it. So, if you won’t stop on your own,” Joon leaned in, making him shrink away until his back hit the wall. He dropped his bag in surprise, realizing right then that he was cornered, with no way to run. “I’m going to make you.”
Joon moved back just enough to lift his arm, his hand clenched in a fist like he was about to throw a punch. Jisung shrank in on himself, closing his eyes as tight as he could, thankful he’d put his glasses in his backpack before leaving the house that morning instead of wearing them. He just hoped it would end quickly.
“Get the fuck away from him.”
The familiar voice sent a shiver down his spine, and when he cracked an eye open, he saw Minho standing next to them, absolutely fuming. He’d never seen the older boy so angry, his eyes narrowed, his jaw set tight, his fists clenched. But it wasn’t directed at him; only at Joon, who’d now moved back just enough that Jisung wasn’t completely trapped against the wall anymore.
“Minho,” Joon sneered, his lip ticking up in annoyance. “Give me one good reason why I should.”
Jisung would’ve sworn he saw actual fire flash in Minho’s eyes as he snapped back, “Because if you don’t, I’ll make you regret it.”
Joon scoffed. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”
Minho stepped closer, rage practically radiating off of him. “You wanna test that, Joon?”
The senior laughed as he turned towards Minho, getting right up in the junior’s space. “I’m shocked that you of all people are defending this homophobic bible thumper.”
“Why wouldn’t I? He’s my best friend. And he’s not homophobic.”
“Really? He doesn’t gawk at you like you’re some kind of zoo animal when you’re with your boyfriend?”
Boyfriend? Did Minho have a boyfriend? Something in Jisung’s chest tightened painfully at the thought of Minho dating someone, though he wasn’t sure why. It’s not like he wanted to date Minho– right? Was he jealous of having to potentially share his best friend with someone else? He knew he shouldn’t be; Minho, above all other people in the world, deserved to be happy. So why was it making his stomach turn?
Minho rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Joon. And even if I did, having my best friend looking at me has never bothered me. Jisung has never bothered me. Besides,” the older boy glared at the senior, jabbing a finger into Joon’s chest. “I thought you’d be happy about having the attention of such a cute boy?”
Cute? Cute?? Did Minho just call me cute?
Joon leaned closer as he snapped, his rage painted all over his features. “I swear, Minho, if you say one more thing in defense of this idiot, I’m going to punch you.”
Minho opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but Jisung was so scared that his best friend would get punched because of him, and he knew he had to stop it. What can I do? He knew he couldn’t fight Joon; the senior was much bigger than him, and even Minho, who’d done a considerable amount of bulking up while Jisung was living in Malaysia, probably wouldn’t last long against the older boy. Maybe if he took Minho by surprise, it would be enough to prevent a fight. His eyes flicked over his hyung’s face, taking in the anger in his eyes, the rage in the set of his jaw, his pretty lips twisted up in disgust. His pretty lips…
Before he knew what he was doing, Jisung darted forward, grabbed Minho’s cheeks, and kissed him.
It was urgent, and clumsy; Jisung had never kissed anyone before, but he already knew that no one else would ever compare to kissing Minho. The moment their lips made contact, Minho froze, and Jisung, not knowing whether to keep kissing him but fearing a fight if he stopped, stayed right where he was.
“Oh, damn…” Joon uttered in a disbelieving tone from somewhere behind them, but Jisung barely registered it. Minho’s lips tasted like the froot loops he knew his best friend ate for breakfast every morning, and were softer and sweeter than the marshmallows Jisung would steal from the kitchen cabinets when he thought his mother wasn’t looking. Butterflies exploded in his chest, filling every inch of him as he tentatively moved his lips. Minho finally seemed to register what was happening, his hands coming up to grip Jisung’s wrists gently. Shit, is he going to push me away? Is he mad?
Jisung broke the kiss, surprised at his own actions, and worried he’d upset his best friends. He kissed Minho. He’d really just kissed Minho. His hands shook as he let go of Minho’s cheeks, but before the panic could fully set in, the older boy grabbed him by the waist and tugged him closer, making him gasp as his hands landed on his best friend’s chest.
“Jisungie,” Minho murmured, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on the younger boy’s waist where he held him.
He couldn’t look the older boy in the eye, his gaze darting anywhere but his face. “I’m sorry, Minho. I had to do something; I didn’t want to see you get hurt. I–”
“Do it again.”
His eyes snapped up, finally meeting Minho’s pretty brown ones. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see there, but it definitely wasn’t hope. “Wh– what?”
Minho pulled him closer until their chests were touching, their lips brushing as he whispered, “Kiss me, bug.”
Jisung's heart raced as he carefully took Minho’s face in his hands, cradling his cheeks as he pressed their lips together again. This time, the kiss was much softer and less urgent, and when Jisung moved his lips, the older boy’s moved too. Minho’s arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing him gently as he kissed him back. He felt the older boy’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip, almost like he was asking permission, and he parted his lips to let him in. Minho tasted even more like fruit loops like that, and a little hint of coffee, both of which went well with his own blueberry lip balm.
He wrapped his arms around his best friend’s neck and felt Minho carefully moving them until his back was pressed gently against the wall. With Joon, he’d felt cornered and threatened; but with Minho, being caged against the wall felt safe, like the older boy was putting him there to keep him safe. He ran his fingers through Minho’s short dark hair, immediately noticing how incredibly soft it was, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. Minho started smiling into the kiss too, and a few moments later, they broke apart, giggling breathlessly. The older boy rested his forehead against Jisung’s, still holding him close, which he was fine with; it didn’t seem like either of them was ready to let go. Jisung was the first to break the silence, though he kept his voice quiet, not quite ready to burst their little bubble just yet.
“Hyung,” he murmured, his fingers running through the soft, short strands at the nape of Minho’s neck.
“Jisungie,” Minho whispered back, pulling him ever so slightly closer, splaying his hands across the younger boy’s lower back and making a shiver run down his spine. “My Jisung.”
His heart fluttered, and he looked into Minho’s eyes as he hesitantly asked, “Yours?”
Minho nodded, his cheeks adorably flushing pink. “If you want to be.”
He couldn’t hold back a beaming, heart-shaped smile as he nodded rapidly, pulling Minho in and kissing the older boy again. Minho giggled into the kiss, and suddenly, Jisung felt himself being lifted off the ground. He squeaked in surprise as the older boy spun them around, both of them laughing as they twirled.
“Minho-hyung!” He whined between giggles. “Let me down!”
Minho stopped spinning and set him down gently, but kept him held tightly in his arms. “Okay, bug, I’ll let you down. But I’ll never let you go.”
He rolled his eyes, but the fond grin on his face betrayed his feigned annoyance. “You better not.”
The older boy kissed him again, then leaned in to whisper in his ear. “How could I, when I’ve been in love with you for years?”
Jisung blinked in surprise, pulling back to look Minho in the eyes, searching for any sign that his best friend was messing with him, but only finding love there. “You have?”
Minho nodded. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the day we met; I was just too young to realize what it was.”
He felt his cheeks flush as he thought back to that day, remembering how he’d blushed when Minho had held his cheeks because– okay, fine, he could admit that was the cause now; the fluttering in his chest at the sight of the pretty cat-like boy, and how comforting the older boy’s voice had been. Jisung had never considered the possibility that he could like boys, but the way he’d been drawn to Minho for years, how he’d been so curious about the gay couples at their school, how much he liked being held by Minho, kissing Minho, being kissed back by Minho, Minho, Minho– too many dots were connecting for him to be able to deny it any longer. “I think I fell in love with you that day too, hyung.”
“This… makes so much sense, actually.” They both looked to the side to find Joon still standing nearby, a look of clarity on his face. When he noticed the pair looking at him, the senior smiled sheepishly. “Sorry for– well, all of it. I should’ve realized what was going on sooner instead of assuming the worst.”
Jisung felt Minho’s arms tighten around him, and something swelled in his chest, happy that the older boy was so protective of him. “Thank you for apologizing. I understand why you didn’t notice– I didn’t even notice.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me for how I’ve treated you, but… truce? At least?”
He nodded. “Truce.”
“But if you’re mean to my boyfriend again,” Minho cut in, his voice deadly serious. “I’ll still punch you.”
Joon nodded. “Understandable, I’d deserve it.” The senior looked at Jisung. “Sorry again, Jisung. I hope you two are happy together.”
Jisung regarded him with a single nod. “Thank you, Joon. Same to you and your boyfriend.”
They watched Joon walk away, then Jisung felt gentle fingers gripping his chin and turning him to face Minho, who beamed when their eyes met, and Jisung squealed as he was picked up and spun around again. “I love you, Jisung,” the older boy murmured when he finally slowed them and set him back down, then kissed him softly.
Jisung giggled, beaming back at his best friend– no, his boyfriend. “I love you too, Minho.”
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