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i love you (but you’re my downfall).
——————————
Minho often compared his relationship with Jisung during his trainee times to the story of Icarus and his unfortunate downfall.
See, Jisung was vibrant. Minho was simply enraptured by him and his aura, his presence overall. The way his heart climbed into his throat whenever Jisung smiled at him never went unnoticed by Minho, simply suppressed in an attempt to protect himself. To protect Jisung.
When Minho transferred from his dance company into JYP, dream of stardom in his mind, he promised himself to leave personal matters until after debut at the very least. He was timorous, scared even, at the fact he would most likely debut with boys. Boys his age. Boys that may have gotten into the company through looks alone. Boys that were so incredibly talented and boys that were manufactured into being royally charming in unique ways that captured the hearts of many.
Why was Minho scared? He was scared he would become one of those many. Those many that couldn’t resist but succumb to the temptation of something so ideal, so perfectly unreal. What if he became utterly seduced by those boys and lost his chance at debut? He’d always been a hopeless romantic. Not to mention, he was gay. So very, very gay. If he showed the slightest interest in someone, and some snobby snitch noticed and informed the higher-ups then he was most certainly gone. JYP wouldn’t ever allow such scandalous behaviour in his company.
So, yeah. Minho was petrified.
But then Jisung appeared, walking idly into the practise room Minho occupied, probably expecting a friend. Minho was fairly new and was undeniably intimidated at the fact almost all the trainees in this company already knew each other, already had their own friend groups, and here was a lone dancer who had just transferred with no connections to the company at all.
Minho stopped his sharp movements to the hip-hop beat almost immediately, jogging over to where his phone was connected to the speakers to pause the blaring song in order to apologise to his very probably senior trainee and pack his things to leave.
“I’m sorry! If you need the practise room I’ll be on my way.” Minho announced whilst bowling lightly, barely looking at the stranger as he disconnected his phone.
“Whoa dude no! I don’t need it, I was just expecting someone else.” Minho snapped his head up, taking in the other males presence. “My friend was learning a dance to this song not long ago, I thought you might be him!”
Minho almost raised an eyebrow at the way the other didn’t bow in greeting to him but decided to leave it. Instead he let out a soft Oh, right and shifted his feet awkwardly.
“I’m really sorry for interrupting, I didn’t mean to disrupt your practise.” The boy in front of him apologised, sounding awkward and unsure. “I’m uh-, I’m Jisung. I don’t mean to sound rude but are you by any chance new around here?”
Jisung, huh? Minho subconsciously smiled.
“Minho, and yeah. It’s my third week.” Jisung’s eyes widened at the cat like words slipping off of the elder boy’s tongue.
“Minho? Like, Lee Minho?” Minho squinted but nodded at Jisung’s question nonetheless. “Holy shit! You’re the new guy everyone says danced with BTS!”
If Minho was drinking water, he would have choked. Instead he just makes a surprised face and splutters for a few seconds.
“H-how did you know that? Do people around here really talk about that?”
Jisung smiled brightly and widely, taking a few more steps inside the room. “So it’s true? You’re the dancer?”
Minho honestly struggled keeping down a smile at the round cheeked boy’s excited tone. “I-, I guess but like-”
“I’m pretty sure you’re joining my team! Well at least, we want you to. But you’re so hard to find! One sec I gotta text Chan-hyung about this.”
Minho’s eyebrows furrowed. Team? He didn’t know he was joining a team?
“Actually, nevermind, come with me.” And that’s how Minho managed to get into a team within the first month of his trainee life.
That’s also how Minho met Jisung, the Jisung that changed his life.
——————————
The chance of debut was overwhelming at this point. After he’d met Jisung, he was introduced to 7 others and almost immediately adopted into their team.
“You choreograph, right?” Someone called Chan had asked, he seemed to be the leader of the makeshift group.
“Yeah, I used to make choreographies at my old studio.” Minho replied, giving himself a pat on the back for avoiding a seemingly inevitable stutter. Jisung stood next to Chan as the others continued brainstorming ideas for— for something. Minho didn’t know what, he could barely focus on Chan at the moment with that Jisung kid’s excited grin and messy hair in the way.
Now? Now the chance was given. “We’ll have a show,” Chan said, 8 months after Minho joined them. “It’s for exposure. We’re sure to debut.”
Chan was smiling even with the sickening feeling in his stomach, a response to his brain telling him it’s too good to be true.
Minho’s stomach dipped. It had all been a fun time until now, minus the struggles of not being good enough of course. He glanced around the room, Woojin’s eyes brewing with tears at finally, a chance to debut. Jeongin gripping onto Hyunjin with the biggest grin on his face. Seungmin excused himself, probably to go call his mum.
Minho dragged his eyes to Jisung, and he felt sick. This wasn’t okay, he shouldn’t be here.
They didn’t know what he was. He didn’t want them to but— but it’s unfair to be with them when he’s something that could tear them apart. When he’s gay.
Surely, surely, he could work hard enough and debut as a solo. Stray Kids would be fine as 8, it’s not like he couldn’t help with their dancing if he wasn’t in the group, he’d have time. He’d be training for a few years more anyway.
Jisung turns to him, from his place across the room, legs wrapped tightly around Felix’s waist as he was carried around in celebration. Their eyes met, Jisung’s bright grin lighting up his face, Minho’s stomach flipped. Tears sprang to his eyes, he couldn’t deal with this, he needed out.
He began walking, turning to the left and shoving his way out of the door. Seungmin sat outside, Minho was right, he was on the phone. The younger boy glanced up at Minho and smiled, cheeks blushing probably from compliments given by his family. Minho felt sick, he couldn’t do this.
His brain became foggy and his breathing violently stilted, he was having a panic attack over the thing he’d been dreaming of for two years now. He was going to be an idol, he’d gotten a chance to debut, this is what he’d wanted. That desire was cut short when he realised this wasn’t a game. He had to tell them and risk getting kicked out of the company, or he could simply drop out from the group. They’d still be friends, he wouldn’t be risking their career, they’d be fine. They’d be fine.
Tears dripped freely down his cheeks, his nose began running, his feet took him into the nearest bathroom. This was bad. This was so, so bad. The guilt, the guilt made him so sick. What kind of game was he playing? Had he toyed with their feelings? They wouldn’t mind him leaving that much, surely, it wasn’t like he’d never see them again.
He ran cold water from the tap, hands gripping the edge of the counter until his knuckles turned white. It’ll be fine. He tells himself before cupping his hands under the steady stream of water and plunging his face into his palms. They’ll be fine. He repeated the action, washing the salty tears from his eyes as they formed. I’ll be fine. A sob broke from his lips and his legs almost gave out, knees pressing in firmly to the counter he was leaning over. He kept putting water to his face, maybe he could drown himself this way. The water was so cold it made his hands ache, his skin turning a harsh kind of red.
This was bad, this was so, so bad. His palms pressed into this face, covering his eyes. He should’ve said no when Chan offered him a space in the group, he should’ve said n—.
“Minho–hyung? What’re you doing?” Minho stopped making sounds when he heard Jeongin’s soft voice echo through the bathroom.
He stuttered a while, not knowing what to say, until he heard a hiss.
“Jeongin. Go to the bathroom at the end of the hall.” Minho held his breath, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. That can’t be him, please don’t let it be him.
But it was, only one person would scold Jeongin like that when the youngest stepped over a line, making sure he knew his curiosity shouldn’t make others uncomfortable. The only person to do that was Jisung. God, why’d it have to be Jisung?
He heard the door close, and some soft footsteps coming from somewhere, he didn’t know where because the sounds resonated off of the dark walls surrounding him. He jumped at the warm touch running through his hair, Jisung’s fingers (he could tell they were Jisung’s, purely from the amount of times his hands found themselves in Minho’s soft hair) entangling themselves around the roots. His scalp burned, not unpleasantly, when the hands in his hair pulled him to the right until his body hit Jisung’s, warmth radiating off of the both of them from their practise they had still yet to complete.
He let out the breath he was still holding. Hands still covering his face as his chest shook to suppress the convulsing sobs threatening to show themselves to his younger friend. Friend. Jisung was his friend. He couldn’t do this to his friend, no matter his feelings for him. He couldn’t let his friend be around someone like him. Someone that loved him yes, but loved him differently? Never. Jisung didn’t deserve this.
“You’ve waited a while, right? You’ve waited a while for this to happen.” Jisung murmured, pressing Minho’s covered face further into the crook of his neck. Minho’s eyes clenched further shut at Jisung’s misconception, the guilt in his stomach causing him to twitch involuntarily. “You should call your parents, they’ll be happy!”
He could hear it, the smile in Jisung’s voice, it made his heart clench. He had to leave, he had to do it.
They stayed like that until Minho breathed normally again, until he wrapped his arms around Jisung’s waist, until he pulled away with red eyes and a fake smile. He had to leave.
——————————
“Min, what do you mean?” Chan furrowed his brows.
Minho crept into the 3RACHA studio late that evening, to break the news to his friend who sat alone at his computer. His hands were shaking, even with the nerve remedies he’d taken beforehand.
“I— Channie–hyung. I can’t be a member anymore.” He croaked out, repeating himself from 30 seconds earlier. Chan’s eyes softened and he sat up significantly straighter in his office chair.
“Why?” Was the single question he asked, confusion drowning his tone.
“It— it doesn’t matter, honestly. I just— it wouldn’t be fair on the team.” Minho said back, heat creeping to his cheeks from the embarrassment of actually doing this. He’d practised what to say one thousand times over in the past 5 hours, but it came out completely different now.
“Min, it’s not fair on the team that you’re leaving us now.” The leader spluttered, eyes frantically searching Minho’s face. “You can tell me. If you tell me I can help you.”
The younger boy shook his head, bottom lip quivering at the disappointment on Chan’s pale, tired face. The guilt came again, it hit so hard. Chan had worked so hard for this, only to have Minho ruin their dance formations from 9 to 8.
“Hyung, I’m sorry. I can’t debut with you.” Minho’s voice was quiet, but the crack was still sounded in the room.
“Yes you can, Minho. And you will. The team wouldn’t survive without you.” The older males words went an octave lower, and rang through Minho’s ears louder than intended.
“I’ll ruin you.” It was only a whisper.
“Tell me what it is.” Chan was demanding now, he stood up from his chair and faced Minho completely.
“I can’t.”
“I’ll help you!”
“Hyung, I—”
“You just need to tell—”
“Hyung— I can’t—!”
“Yes! Yes you can! Stop acting like you can’t, like I’m not worthy of knowing and—!”
“For fucks sake, I’m gay!” Minho bellowed, the thanked the lords everyone in the company had knocked off to go home, the digital clock on Chan’s desk flashing a neon green 03:38AM.
Chan’s form lowered from his intimidating stance, eyes wide, fingers uncurling from the fists they were previously tightened into. Minho couldn’t watch.
Minho couldn’t watch so he looked down at his feet, tears in his eyes and chest aching with anxiety. This was it, he was out of the company for good. He’d have to go through 50 more auditions before finding somewhere else that would actively help him, and that’s if the secret of his leaving JYP wasn’t spilt everywhere in the industry.
“I can’t be in your team, Chan.” He refrained from the honorific, they weren’t friends anymore. Chan would probably grow disgusted at the endearment anyway. Gay, gay, you’re gay, you’re gay, gay. It rushed through his head like an uphill fire. He let out a shaky breath before looking up to Chan again.
The look on his face. The look on his face was something Minho hadn’t seen on the older male before.
Tears fell over the water lines of his eyes when he felt one of Chan’s hands come to grip at one of his own. The man’s soft smile smile directed to him, the tear streak down his face.
“You’re such an idiot, Minho. You know that?” Chan mumbled, tugging the dark haired boy towards him into a tight hug. The feeling had Minho bursting into tears, choked sobs falling from his lips as his fingers wrapped themselves around the sides of Chan’s hoodie, fingernails catching on the fabric uncomfortably. “I can’t believe I almost lost you because you’re dumb. You idiot. Don’t scare me like that again.”
Chan’s hands patted a rhythm on Minho’s back as he cried. He cried for an hour at least, though they moved to the couch after 10 minutes.
Jisung left after those 10 minutes too. He had been standing outside the door, waiting to relay an idea from Changbin to Chan when he saw Minho inside. The door slightly ajar, he listened to him. Heart clenching when their voices raised. They shouldn’t be yelling. He thought to himself.
The idea was long forgotten after Minho’s panicked confession to Chan, the cogs in his brain moving slowly to try and understand the situation fully. But the situation was clear, he couldn’t deny what he had heard. There was no other way to interpret it other than what it was.
Jisung decided to go home after Minho’s crying sounded itself through the doorway, he decided he needed sleep and to think. Was Minho really going to leave the group? Was he really gay?
Jisung has never known someone gay before, never even really thought about it before aside from knowing it wasn’t wrong and it wasn’t bad. His parents taught him that much. But he’d heard how his schoolmates used to joke about them, “those homosexuals” and such. It was no surprise he knew no one that was gay when they were surrounded by that sort of prejudice. Maybe, if Minho hid it so well, he did know some gays. Possibly many. They just hadn’t told him yet, or hadn’t told anyone for that matter.
The more he thought about it, the more his heart pounded in his chest. Minho likes boys. Minho’s always liked boys. Minho gets crushes on boys and thinks boys are hot. Jisung thought boys were hot too, but he’s never had a crush on one before. He can’t be gay. Minho’s gay, though. Does Minho maybe think Jisung is hot? The thought made Jisung’s heart skip. But no, Minho would never. Minho’s Minho, and Minho’s standards are probably high. Understandably, he would want someone on par with him. Though that is damn near impossible.
Jisung thought Minho was hot.
——————————
They started filming a month after Minho’s conversation with Chan. Chan promised not to tell anyone, but Minho knew he’d probably told Woojin and maybe Jimin if he was feeling that stressed. Minho didn’t mind too much. Woojin was mature, and Jimin was nice. Those two hadn’t made any implication that they knew, they treated Minho exactly the same. But Minho knew Chan, and whenever Chan was faced with a problem he always told Woojin and Jimin.
He thought though that maybe Jisung knew. How? He didn’t know. But it hurt his heart when suddenly after Minho’s confession of his sexuality to their leader, Jisung didn’t want to cuddle anymore. This lasted about two weeks, Jisung refused to hug the elder, the air around them was awkward when they were alone. But it was better now. Well, better in some ways, worse in others.
Jisung had become more affectionate than he had ever been, and Minho’s heart struggled everytime Jisung did anything with him.
Like, on nights after dance practise, Minho would shower first, Jisung would be second last. But Jisung would always wander into Minho, Woojin and Chan’s room after changing into his pyjamas, and Jisung would always lift the covers that lay on top of an almost asleep Minho to crawl underneath them and fall asleep with the elder. All of the boys slept together sometimes, it was warm and comforting for them especially on the days with harder training. But there was something about the way Jisung’s head tucked itself closer to Minho’s chest, and the way the younger boys fingers would stroke the skin of Minho’s waist repeatedly before he fell asleep, it made Minho’s heart thrash in his ribcage. He wondered if Jisung could hear it, if he was doing it on purpose and he was simply teasing the dancer.
Or when Minho woke up in the morning to make the school kids in the dorm their breakfast as they got ready. Jisung would appear behind him to wrap his arms around Minho, croaking close to his ear about how he was hungry too. It made Minho smile, especially when Jisung would stuff his cheeks full with rice, or toast, or whatever Minho made, a muffled “Thank you, Minho–hyung!” passing over the small bits of food that traced his pink lips.
And then there way the way Jisung would speak to him so genuinely, his voice losing its playful glint when he told the older how grateful he was to have him, how talented Minho was, how important he was, how much he appreciated him. It was rare, but it happened twice. Once before filming as Jisung laid in Minho’s bed, complimenting how well he’d choreographed their dance and how everyone loved it, and then a second time.
Jisung believed he should have held Minho’s hand tighter, he shouldn’t have let go, maybe then Minho wouldn’t have been eliminated. Of course, he knew in his heart that his friend would most likely come back, but the effect this would have on Minho in the long run is what saddened him the most.
Jisung watched Minho’s slumped figure walk into the dorm and straight to the bathroom, probably to shower his stress away somehow. Technically, he’d been eliminated. He still stayed in the dorm for a few days more until he moved to a temporary room at the JYP building, temporary because he would come back, it was almost inevitable. But he’d been eliminated because he wasn’t good enough, everyone has passed but him. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.
When Minho fell into bed that night, body automatically avoiding hitting Jisung in a result of habit, he sighed. Jisung moved closer, head curling into his chest like normal and fingers flitting their way over Minho’s waist to his back, pulling him further into the warmth of the bed.
Minho’s arms wrapped themselves around Jisung too, an arm fitting underneath his head and another curving around Jisung’s waist. Jisung didn’t miss the way Minho held him tighter tonight. Jisung started talking, talking about how cool Minho was and how much Minho had made him improve. How much Felix had cursed after the elimination because he didn’t deserve it. How important Minho was to the team, how Chan wouldn’t let him leave, how much the team needed Minho. He talked about how much he appreciated Minho, how much he loved Minho.
Minho’s fingers subconsciously began massaging away the knots in Jisung’s back as he pulled him closer, telling the younger to shut up and go to sleep. Jisung breathed in deeply through his nose, and leant up to pressed a tender kiss onto Minho’s neck. It’s just platonic. Minho told himself. Let Jisung be platonic.
This was ultimately Minho’s problem. He loved Jisung, he wanted so badly to be close with him. But the closer he got, the more he fell in love, and the more he hurt himself. He was emotionally attached, and that was a scary thing when you’re pretty much assured rejection.
——————————
They were debuting, finally. Minho’s anxieties skyrocketed as a result of this, they practised non-stop for 10 days straight prior to their MNet stage. Chan noticed Minho’s nervous glint whenever they sat together, eating a poor excuse of a dinner, and someone mentioned the debut. Minho’s heart squeezed everytime they talked of how they wanted to be together forever, to never leave each other behind.
Jisung still latched himself to Minho, it was a constant, something that never changed and something that everyone accepted. Actually, something had changed, only in the past few weeks really. Chan’s eyes that watched over all of them had focused on Minho, specifically Minho when he was with Jisung. Chan had caught on, he’d caught on to Minho’s almost natural gravitation towards the boy and the blush that peppered his cheeks whenever Jisung smiled up at him with that absolute, unadulterated happiness in his eyes.
He tugged Minho into an empty practise room the night before the release of their music video.
“I’m sorry Minho. I didn’t mean to—,” Chan glanced up at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean to force you into this. I should’ve been more considerate and—”
Minho awkwardly shifted once Chan’s regretful eyes fell on him once more.
“Will you be okay? With debuting? I don’t— I don’t want you to get hurt or to regret anything.”
“Hyung, I can debut. I have to now, you worked so hard to keep me in the group.” Minho muttered, the air around them stiff.
“Min. I don’t want you to be hurt, okay? Not by him.” Minho knew what Chan was implying. Chan’s eyes always watched over Minho and Jisung so carefully, he surely would have noticed.
So Minho just laughed, lightening the mood in the simplest way he knew, and said one sentence that he hoped would put his leader to ease.
“I’ll never confess, I know what would happen, and I’m fine with waiting until I get over it.”
Chan smiled sadly at him when the words left his lips. He was always a sucker for love stories, and it seemed this one wouldn’t have a happy ending.
——————————
They had debuted, and the stress levels became higher. It was because of this, Minho thought, that Jisung’s affection towards him multiplied significantly.
He felt Chan’s concerned eyes on him whenever Jisung hugged Minho from behind whilst he struggled to find the most comfortable starting position for their feet in their new choreographies. Jisung would whisper in his ear about how tired he was, and sometimes he’d crack a joke. The joke was particularly painful when Jisung couldn’t help but laugh at his own stupidity and hide his smile in the juncture of Minho’s neck and shoulder. Lips and teeth grazing on the exposed skin there, Minho always suppressed a shudder.
Jisung seemed to sleep with Minho almost every night they stayed in the dorms now, he even plugged his phone charger into the wall next to Minho’s because he was there so often anyway. Minho struggles to fall asleep some nights, the nights where he’d lie still and steady his breathing, indirectly tricking Jisung into believing he was asleep. It was when this happened that he felt Jisung’s hands travel all over his skin, not just his waist. Most of the time he would trace his fingers over Minho’s face, his fingertips grazing their way down the slope of his nose and across this cheekbones.
Other nights, his hands would drag their way down from Minho’s neck and pinch just lightly at the flesh of his collarbones. It tickled, Minho struggled not flinching when Jisung did this, especially when Jisung’s fingers would hesitantly tug downwards to brush over his clothed chest, palms spreading wide over his heart and feeling the steady breathing of Minho. He always thought Minho’s heartbeat was unusually fast whilst he was resting.
Even once, when Jisung was feeling particularly bold, he brought a hand down to where their legs tangled together, fingernails scratching ever so lightly on the skin of Minho’s thighs. Minho held back from snapping his eyes open at the feeling, and struggled to fight the urge to roll on top of Jisung and kiss him until Jisung knew he didn’t have to be hesitant, or secretive. Until he knew Minho was his and Minho wanted Jisung to caress him like that forever.
But Jisung didn’t want Minho’s kisses. He was simply affectionate, and he loved Minho. Really, he loved Minho. Just not the way Minho loved him.
——————————
It had been almost half a year since his eavesdropping and Jisung couldn’t stop thinking about Minho. More specifically about how Minho likes boys.
Jisung wasn’t scared at how this would affect the group and their dynamic. After all, Minho had always been gay, and that meant the dynamic had no reason to change if he was gay before and after he spilt his sexuality to Chan. Jisung couldn’t stop wondering though about Minho’s life and Minho’s crushes.
Jisung hadn’t really had full on crushes before, he sort of just found people attractive across all genders, everyone did that though. His heart had fluttered a few times, due to girls confessions towards him and such. He took this as liking them and dated them, well, sort of. He was basically still a child at the time.
Jisung sort of wondered if his heart would have fluttered if a boy had confessed to him. He wondered what it would be like to take a boy to get ice cream with. He even wondered what it would be like to kiss a boy.
He’d barely even kissed a girl, if he’s being honest. The barely comes from the time he was 13 and he was dragged to the back of his school building by a girl in his grade. She confessed to him there and planted her lips on his, they stayed like that unmoving for three seconds until she ran away. Jisung remembers blushing madly, and his heart pounding wildly at the gesture, even if it wasn’t a real kiss. Would he have acted the same if a boy had kissed him instead?
Had Minho kissed a boy? He probably had, Minho’s attractive to everyone, right? Minho was Jisung’s closest friend, maybe Jisung could ask him. Maybe Jisung could ask him how it felt.
So Jisung did, one night when they were in the practise room alone together, panting slightly as they sat on the couch in the room after Minho diligently spent two hours perfecting Jisung’s execution of an upcoming side track choreography. Jisung fidgeted nervously beforehand, deciding he should ask now or never. He turned to Minho who was squeezing water into his mouth from Jisung’s water bottle and breathed in.
“Hyung, have you— have you ever kissed a boy?”
Minho coughed, choking lightly on the water that filled his cheeks before gulping it down and gasping for air. He turned to Jisung with wide eyes.
“What?” He sounded aghast, face paling slightly when he met eyes with Jisung’s. He couldn’t tell what Jisung was thinking and that scared him.
“Have you ever, you know, kissed a boy? You like boys— right?” Jisung tilted his head.
“A–and where would you get that idea from?” Minho said, panic rising in his body. This was it, Jisung would tell everyone and he’d be out of the group for sure.
“I heard you. Before we debuted. When you were talking with Channie–hyung.” Jisung said, watching as Minho’s eyes widened further and catching how his hands started to shake. He fumbled to assure the older boy. “I—I don’t mind! Really! I don’t think it’s bad or anything, w—why should I care who you like?”
Minho visibly relaxed, shoulders becoming loose as he exhaled shakily.
“Who else knows?” He questioned, eyes closing shut.
“I— well, I only know Channie–hyung knows, so.” Jisung trailed off, suddenly feeling guilty for making Minho feel that panicked. He hadn’t thought about this, how Minho would react out of fear.
There was a minute of silence between the two. Minho sat, steadying his breathing and Jisung guiltily twisted the hem of his shirt anxiously around his fingers. His mind ticked over, about to make him stand, apologise and leave, but Minho cut his nonverbal voice of reason off.
“I have.” He breathed out, opening his eyes to look up at Jisung again. “Kissed a boy, I mean. I’ve kissed a boy.”
Jisung’s heart involuntarily leaped, he didn’t know why. But he did want to know who Minho kissed, what it was like, how it felt. He wanted to know everything.
“What was it like?” Jisung whispered, fingers halting their movements in the fabric of his shirt.
“It was—” Minho repositioned himself to a more comfortable position on the couch. “It was nice, I liked it.”
Jisung nodded, not really knowing how to respond until another question popped into his mind.
“Have you ever kissed a girl?”
Minho nodded at the younger boy. “She kissed me first though.” He chuckled, hand reaching up to brush some hair out of his eyes.
“What was that like?” Jisung pressed further, eyes caught by the way Minho’s hair fell onto his forehead, out of his eyes.
“That was nice too. But I didn’t like her like that.”
Jisung thought back to his only kiss, when he was 13. He felt nice, and giddy, but he didn’t like her back either.
Minho smiled at Jisung’s silence, he looked like he was thinking very hard. “Have you ever kissed a girl, Jisung?”
Jisung’s head snapped up to meet Minho’s eyes, he calmed his frantic reaction before answering.
“Yes, but it was the same. Nice, but I didn’t like her like that.” Jisung said, trying to make the shake in his voice unnoticeable but it was almost impossible. Minho’s eyes widened, slightly shocked at his answer. “I’ve never kissed someone I like, hyung.”
Minho nodded, feeling suddenly awkward with Jisung’s curiosity.
“Hyung, I—” Jisung stopped himself, was this a good idea? But his curiosity always beat him in these battles. “Hyung. I want to know what it’s like to kiss a boy.”
Minho’s eyes bulged, not knowing what to do with this information. His heart pounded violently in his chest, screaming out for him to leave, to run away from this situation. But he didn’t.
“R–right.” He simply responded, avoiding Jisung’s eyes like a mouse in a fire.
“Hyung, would you— could you maybe, kiss me? So I know what it’s like?”
Minho’s heart shattered. He couldn’t handle this. He should have refused to give Jisung help learning the dance. Screw that, he should have refused Jisung’s wandering hands the nights Jisung thought he was asleep, he should have refused Jisung’s kind words of support to him, he should have refused Jisung sleeping in his bed altogether. He should have refused Jisung’s hugs, he should have refused Jisung’s smiles, he should have refused to live in the same dorm as Jisung. He should have refused to debut, to be in this group, to be with Jisung. But he didn’t. He didn’t refuse all that, so he has to refuse this now.
Tears welled in his eyes as he stood up from the couch, Jisung’s large eyes following his movements in anticipation and curiosity.
“I’ll go home first.” It was weak, there was a strain to it in his throat. He couldn’t even look at Jisung as he pushed his way through the door of the practise room. He even left his belongings there aside from his keys and his phone that were a constant in his back pockets. Jisung would get the rest of the stuff anyway, he always did.
Minho’s tears painted his hands and his shirt as he constantly wiped them away while he walked home. He was shaking, with panic maybe but he believed it was anger. Anger at the world for being this cruel to him, for making him gay, for making Han Jisung accidentally walk into his practise room.
And when he fell asleep on his bed that night, he knew Chan could hear him sniffling and noticed the shifts of him wiping his tears from his irritated eyes. But Chan didn’t say anything.
Jisung didn’t sleep with Minho that night.
——————————
It had been four days. Minho had pulled himself together, he hadn’t cried since the night Jisung asked him for a kiss. Minho’s heart was aching, it was physically painful, but he had work to do.
Jisung however, he couldn’t look at Minho without tears welling in his eyes. He’d ruined their precious friendship, and in the course of that he’d realised just how disgusting he is.
Jisung had always been an emotional person, and an anxious one too. Not socially, he was fine with people, but he constantly stressed about not being enough as a person. He was impulsive that night, and now he was suffering the consequences of that.
He felt terrible, he felt so, so horrid and disgusting and every bad word you could think of. His mind was clouded with negativity of not just his physical looks but what he was like mentally too. Annoying, fat, stubborn, ugly, insufferable, repulsive. It swam around his head as a constant.
He hates me. His brain screamed at him. He thinks I’m grotesque. Minho wouldn’t kiss him. Minho wouldn’t kiss him. Minho wouldn’t kiss him.
It was only a kiss, surely Minho could have kissed him. He wasn’t good enough for Minho. Minho would have kissed him if he didn’t find Jisung repulsive. Jisung. Repulsive. Jisung was repulsive.
Chan’s worried eyes tried to decipher the situation. Minho was practically emotionless unless with the easily spooked younger members. In their room he would lie on bed doing nothing, straight face albeit a little pale. Chan didn’t worry too much about Minho, he was mature and would ask for help if need be. Jisung however? Jisung hadn’t eaten a proper meal in four days. His cheeks were already hollowed out and Felix had shakily recounted to Chan the amount of crying Jisung had done in their room. Jisung started biting his lips, and not to be charismatic. Sometimes when Seungmin woke up before Jisung, he noticed the dry blood on his lips from chewing on them in his sleep. Woojin had tried to talk to him already, after Jisung almost collapsed in the practise room, but Jisung refused and Chan’s eyes travelled to Minho who simply stood facing the mirror, avoiding the situation and Jisung’s body that sat on the floor.
Chan confronted Jisung first, simply asking Felix and Seungmin to stay in the other rooms if the talk took too long.
“Sungie?” He called into the darkness, following the sounds of sniffles until he found himself climbing the ladder to Jisung’s bunk. “Sungie, are you alright?”
Jisung immediately flung himself into his leaders arms, body convulsing as sobs broke through his body. He was dehydrated due to the amount he had been crying over the last few days, eyes constantly red and cheeks burning everytime they were touched due to the unstoppable irritation made by his wiping of tears away.
Chan’s arms immediately wrapped around the younger boy, gripping him tightly as he rocked their bodies back and forth. Jisung crawled into Chan’s lap and buried his face into the pale males shoulder.
“Oh, Sungie.” Chan’s voice was thick with pity. “What’s wrong?”
Chan’s heart clenched at the words that repeatedly fell from Jisung’s mouth. “He hates me, he hates me, he hates me!”
Chan’s hands ran through Jisung’s hair as he cried, frowning at the boys words. “Who hates you Sungie?”
“Minho–hyung! Minho–hyung hates me!” Jisung’s head lifted only to fall back onto Chan’s shoulder in pure frustration at his situation. Chan simply kept brushing his hands through Jisung’s hair.
“Why do you think that Jisung? Minho wouldn’t ever hate you.”
“H—he does! He won’t even look at me, he thinks I’m disgusting!” Jisung hiccuped, his grip tightening on Chan’s hoodie. “It’s all my fault!”
“Jisungie, I’m sure that isn’t true. But you need to tell me what happened okay?” Chan whispered, holding his friend closer to him.
Jisung shuddered, staying silent for what felt like hours as Chan ran his long fingers through his oily hair. He breathed in and out, in and out, in and out until he felt he could speak again without collapsing into frantic sobbing.
“I asked him to kiss me. God, I’m such an idiot. I asked him to kiss me and he left and he hasn’t even looked at me since.”
Chan’s hands stilled in Jisung’s hair, his mind ticking over to process what he just heard.
“Do you— do you like Minho?” Chan questioned, slowly moving his fingers through Jisung’s hair.
“I— I’ve never liked a boy before. I just wanted to know what it was like to kiss a boy. Minho probably just thinks I’m ugly or something b–but he won’t even talk to me and—” Jisung started choking up and Chan noticed, tugging him impossibly closer and hushing into his ear.
“Why didn’t you ask one of the others? Or me?” It was a good question, he wanted to know the answer.
“Because Minho likes boys. He’s kissed boys before.” Jisung said, tucking his chin over Chan’s shoulder.
“How do you know that?” Chan asked immediately. He didn’t know Minho had told any of the others.
“I heard him tell you. Sorry hyung.” Jisung confessed, his voice tired from crying.
Oh. Jisung had known as long as he had. Okay.
“So you don’t like Minho? You just wanted to know what it was like to kiss another boy?” Chan queried again, just to make sure.
“I just— I’ve never kissed a boy. I wondered if it would be the same as kissing a girl.”
Chan sighed, shaking his head. “That’s the problem, Jisungie. Minho doesn’t hate you, I promise.”
Jisung’s brows furrowed, not understanding what Chan meant. “What?”
Chan simply hushed Jisung again and laid him down in his bed, tucking him underneath the blankets before climbing down the ladder and whispering a soft “Get some sleep, Sungie.” Before he left, probably going to find Woojin.
But Chan didn’t find Woojin. Chan immediately stalked his way out of the dorms and all the way to the practise room he knew Minho would be in.
“Lee Minho!” He called out as soon as he entered, making Minho stop whatever move he was doing and turn to see his leader, tilting his head in confusion. Chan stomped his way over to where Minho’s phone connected to the speakers and switched off the music that boomed loudly in the room.
“Channie–hyung, what ar—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chan asked, fingers clenching in unadulterated frustration.
“What? Tell you what?” Minho shot back, becoming defensive due to his leaders hostile attitude.
“That Jisung tried to kiss you! You should have told me!” Chan replied, lip pulled between his teeth to hold himself back.
“W—What? Why should I have told you that?” Minho questioned, growing weak under Chan’s stare.How did he know that?
“Jisung’s a mess! He won’t eat, he’s constantly exhausted, he spends all his nights crying because he’s convinced you hate him!” Chan was upset, so very upset. How could Minho have held this information from him when Jisung’s suffering so badly?
“I— I don’t hate him.” Minho said, hands beginning to shake as Chan pointed out his wrongs.
“Well, obviously Jisung doesn’t know that!” Chan threw his hands up into the air and walked over to the couch in the room. He sat down and placed his head in his hands, obviously stressed from the situation before speaking again.
“You need to talk to Jisung. I don’t care if you’re in love with him or not, but his health is deteriorating and I can’t lose him. Okay?” Chan said, not taking his head from his hands.
Minho moves to sit next to him. “I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to—”
“I know you didn’t mean to Minho. Just talk to him, okay?” Chan lifted his head and looked at Minho. “I’m taking everyone except you two out tomorrow. Make sure he eats and drinks water and just— just talk to him. Please?”
Minho’s heart clenched when Chan’s voice cracked, he was so clearly worried about Jisung.
Minho nodded and that was the end of that.
——————————
The boys left at 10AM the next morning, Chan telling them they deserved a break for a day. No one questioned why Minho and Jisung weren’t invited. Minho was awake, sitting on the couch anxiously wondering what he should do. Jisung was still asleep, he hadn’t slept this well in a week.
Sighing, Minho stood up, walking into the kitchen to make Jisung some food. He searched diligently through the fridge and the pantry before shaking his head. This wouldn’t do, this wasn’t good enough. So he picked up his phone and searched for the nearest cake store that delivered before calling and ordering a blueberry cheesecake for Jisung. Jisung couldn’t ever resist a cheesecake. Minho thought, dressing himself in jeans and a t-shirt before leaving the dorm and going downstairs to meet the delivery person.
When Minho returned, box held tightly in his hands and $36.78 out of his pocket, Jisung was sitting on the couch with his phone in his hands. Upon hearing the door open he spoke before looking up.
“Where were you guys? I almo— oh.”
Jisung’s eyes widened when he saw only Minho walking through the entry hall.
“Hey Jisungie!” Minho smiled, ignoring the aching in his chest and his shaking hands.
Jisung awkwardly smiled back and looked down to his phone. Minho quickly ducked into the kitchen to grab two spoons before returning to the living room and placing the cake on the coffee table.
“I— I bought you cheesecake.” Minho stuttered, sitting next to the younger boy but still a safe distance away. He turned to Jisung and held out a spoon to him.
Jisung eyes the spoon before looking up into Minho’s anxious eyes. “You don’t need to pretend to be nice to me.”
“What?” Minho questioned, polite smile dropping from his lips. “What do you mean?”
“I know you hate me. You don’t need to pretend to be nice to me.” Jisung cast his eyes down, his face stony. Minho’s heart clenched and he dropped the hand that was holding the spoon down.
“Jisung—” Minho’s eyes welled up, “Jisung I could never hate you.”
Jisung shook his head and Minho reached out to grip at one of his hands. Jisung flinched at the movement and Minho’s heart snapped in two.
“Jisungie…” He trailed off, hurt by Jisung’s reaction. Tears fell over onto his cheeks and he brought a hand up to wipe them away.
He’d done this. He’d made Jisung feel this way. All because Jisung was curious, Minho made him feel this way. His eyes trained on Jisung; his paled face, his hollowed cheeks, his thinning arms and legs and the dark circles under his red eyes. He looked like he hadn’t showered in days, he looked so tired despite just sleeping for the longest time. Minho’s sight fell onto Jisung’s red, abused lips which came as a result of Jisung’s anxiety. He’d done this. He’d hurt Jisung like this.
Minho broke into tears, shuddering breaths leaving his lips as he tore his eyes from Jisung. His precious Jisung. He couldn’t bare this guilt. Jisung turned to him with wide eyes, watching Minho cry so honestly in front of him.
“Minho–hy—” He shakily spoke before he was cut off.
“I don’t— I don’t hate you.” Minho squeezes out, fervently wiping his tears and refusing to look at the younger boy. “I could never h–hate you Jisung! I don’t hate you!”
His words were sincere as he sobbed. He kept repeating it under his breath, I could never hate you. I don’t hate you. Jisungie. I don’t hate you. Jisung’s heart squeezes at the sight. He’d seen Minho cry a million times before, but never, never, like this.
“Hyung…” Jisung said, tears filling up in his eyes for the billionth time that week. “Minho–hyung—”
He reached out and gripped at Minho’s hand. Minho looked up, tears constantly running down his cheeks, before tugging Jisung by the hand into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry Jisungie, don’t you ever cry because of me again, okay?” Minho cried whilst holding Jisung firmly to him. “Don’t ever be sad because of me Jisungie, okay?”
Jisung nodded against him, not really able to string together a sentence at this point. Minho sighed, body shaking along with it, and buried his face into Jisung’s hair.
It was 20 minutes until they parted, Minho offering Jisung a weak and embarrassed smile before patting around the couch to find the spoons he had dropped once he gripped onto Jisung. Once he found them, he offered one to Jisung and pulled the cake over onto their laps before flicking off the box lid. They ate the whole cake whilst watching Teen Titans on TV, shoulders pressing against each others and knees overlapping.
Chan came back with the others to find them tangled together on the couch, Minho lying beneath a still barely awake Jisung. Jisung met Chan’s eyes and offered him a genuine smile, and that’s when Chan knew it would be okay.
——————————
They changed dorms and now Minho only shared with Felix, though Felix was rarely even there anyway as he always crept into the room Changbin shared with Hyunjin to fall asleep in the latters bed. Platonic. Minho thought, as Jisung crawled under the blankets to join Minho. Jisung’s being platonic.
It had gone back to normal. It only took a couple of weeks but now Jisung and Minho were closer than ever. Their first comeback was a success and the idol life was treating them fairly for the time being. Jisung’s arms wrapped around Minho’s body easily and Minho exhaled, body relaxing into the younger boys hold.
“Hyung?” Jisung whispered into the darkness of the bedroom.
“Yes, Sungie?” Jisung smiles at the feeling of Minho speaking. He felt his chest move because he was so close.
“Can I ask you a question?” Jisung murmured, palms growing a little sweaty from nerves.
“You just asked one, Jisu— ow!” Minho chuckled as Jisung kneed him in the thigh under the blankets before reaching a hand up to brush his fringe from his eyes. “Yes, ask away.”
Jisung breathed in, hands subconsciously gripping firmly at the back of Minho’s shirt. “Why wouldn’t you kiss me?”
The thought ate away at him still. There were times where he looked into the mirror and he saw only ugliness, or fat, or other things he hated about himself that didn’t even exist. It wasn’t too much to ask, a simple kiss. Kisses weren’t anything special to Jisung, he didn’t see them as a very big deal. Why wouldn’t Minho kiss him?
Minho separated himself from Jisung a little and Jisung panicked, thinking he was going to leave again. His fingers turned white as his hands gripped fistfuls of Minho’s shirt. Minho simply chuckled and looked down to Jisung’s face.
“Why do you want to kiss me so much, hm?” Minho had learnt to be normal about the situation. He didn’t want to upset Jisung like that ever again, they’d only just gotten Jisung eating properly again.
Even in the dark Minho could see Jisung’s face flush with embarrassment. Smiling widely, he braced himself for another attack of his poor thigh by Jisung’s knee. Instead, Jisung loosened his grip on Minho’s shirt and stared back up at the older boy with wide eyes.
“I want to know if it feels the same as kissing a girl.” Jisung whispered, his breath still minty over Minho’s face because he’d only just brushed his teeth. Minho’s heart stopped.
“Well Jisungie, for me, it feels the same. It all feels the same unless you kiss someone you like.” Jisung blushed a darker shade of crimson at this, Minho made it seem like he’d kissed a lot of people. Jisung was only two years younger and hadn’t even had a proper kiss yet. Though, Minho hadn’t been a trainee for long before he debuted, whereas Jisung spent the past 4 and a bit years training.
“Have you ever kissed someone you like?” Jisung questioned further, getting déjà vu as he thought of when he previously asked questions like this.
“Yes, a boy in my dance school.” Minho said back, pulling away from Jisung just a bit more.
When Jisung didn’t reply to Minho, the black haired male decided to continue. “It was years ago, we were practising a dance together and he kissed me. I’d liked him for a long time, so I was happy.”
Minho smiled at the memory, feeling Jisung’s hand find home at his waist like it usually did. “Did he become your boyfriend?”
Minho shook his head at the blonde’s question. “Nope, he said we shouldn’t date and then moved to America to attend a better dance school.”
Jisung scoffed at this, “What dance school could be better than the one Minho–hyung went to?”
Minho laughed, light and airily. “You’d be surprised, Sungie.”
Suddenly, Jisung sat up. He folded his calves beneath him and placed his hands on top of his thighs. He could see Minho’s furrowed brows which were lit up by the light shining in from the window in the room.
“What’re you doing?” Minho asked, not moving from the warmth of his position.
“Hyung.” Jisung said sternly, confidence surging through him. “Would you please kiss me?”
Minho almost choked on the air he was breathing. Jisung sat, looking over him with a pout gracing his lips. Oh god, Minho wanted nothing more than to kiss him.
“I told you, it won’t change the feeling unless—”
“I think I like you Minho–hyung!” Jisung blurted out before immediately covering his mouth with his hand. Minho sat up with wide eyes.
“W–what? No! You’re— you’re straight!” Minho replied, voice rushed and cheeks flushing.
“I— I know but—,” Jisung clenched his eyes shut. “I think I like you. That means I’m not straight right?”
Minho shook his head, his mind was spinning. “Jisungie, there’s no way you like me. S—stop saying stuff like that.”
Minho felt ill, had be corrupted Jisung? What would Jisung’s parents think of Jisung came out to them with an explanation like that?
Jisung looked slightly hurt as he looked down at his hands, fingers tapping nervously against his thighs. “Hyung, I really want to kiss you and touch you and be with you. Isn’t that what happens when you like someone?”
Jisung was confused, was Minho opposed to the idea of Jisung liking him? Negativity filled his mind once more and tears welled up in his eyes.
Minho stares at him, completely shocked. This couldn’t be happening. “Do you want to kiss me to see if it’s different from kissing someone you don’t like?” He questioned, surely this was Jisung’s true motive.
Jisung simply nodded and wrapped his fingers together. Minho sighed, he was going to regret this.
“Okay.”
Jisung’s head snapped up, eyes wide and smile already spreading its way across his lips. But he queried Minho once more, just to make sure. “What?”
“I’ll kiss you.” Minho’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.
Jisung smiles wider, watching Minho expectantly. Minho suddenly realised he was supposed to be do something so he positioned himself until he was mirroring Jisung. Jisung’s smile seemed to falter once Minho leaned closer.
“Are you sure about this Sungie?” Minho asked, eyes boring into Jisung’s wide ones.
“I’m sure. Just, I don’t think I’ll be good at this.” He mumbled, shying away a little. Minho smiled at the younger boy being so endearing.
“That’s okay.” Minho whispered before bringing his hands up to Jisung’s cheeks. His heart was pounding so uncontrollably in his chest as Jisung stared at him. “Close your eyes.”
Jisung obediently did as Minho told him, immediately shutting his eyes. His eyebrows pinched together slightly in concentration. Minho smiled before leaning forward.
Minho had wanted this for a long time, he wanted to make it perfect but that wasn’t going happen. He leaned forward and brushed his nose with Jisung’s, listening as the younger boys breath hitched in anticipation. Minho dragged his thumbs over the blondes cheekbones before closing the gap between them.
Minho thought he’d ascended into some kind of heaven in that moment. God, he was right, kissing the person you liked truly was the best thing. Minho hadn’t loved someone before Jisung, which means this kiss was the first time he’d ever kissed someone he loved.
The moment his lips pressed against Jisung’s, a sense of relief washed over him. The blonde’s hands brought their way up to curl around the fabric of Minho’s shirt as Minho moved his lips against Jisung’s soft ones. When Jisung kisses back, somewhat hesitant, Minho’s heart soars. He presses deeper and tilts his head more for better access to Jisung’s plush lips.
Jisung tugs Minho closer somewhere along the way and Minho accidentally falls forward a little bit, teeth grazing on Jisung’s bottom lip causing Jisung to let out a little squeak of surprise at the feeling. Minho pulls back after this, smiling softly at the younger boy. Jisung’s eyes were blown wide, his lips pinker than before and his cheeks set in a seemingly permanent red colour.
Minho sat back, breathing a little heavily and crossing his legs. Jisung stayed where he was and and closed his eyes.
“That felt— that felt amazing.” He sighed, hands losing their grip on Minho’s shirt. Before they could fall, Minho grabbed them and Jisung’s eyes opened again.
Minho loved this new look in Jisung’s eyes. Where Jisung looked sort of dazed and somewhat needy.
“That’s good.” Minho whispered before tugging Jisung forward and catching the blonde’s lips between his once more. He felt on top of the world when Jisung responded immediately and his hands made quick work of tugging Jisung’s legs either side of his waist.
If you told Minho yesterday that tonight he’d have Han Jisung straddling him whilst kissing him this passionately, Minho would have laughed and shaken his head. But here we was, Jisung in his lap with the younger’s hands curving around his neck.
Minho wrapped an arm around Jisung’s body to bring him closer and placed a steady hand on the back of his head before pulling back lightly, lips grazing Jisung’s as he talked.
“Open your mouth some more, Sungie.” He could see Jisung’s blush just before he dove back to kiss Jisung again. Jisung listened to him, as per usual, and Minho licked his way into Jisung’s mouth. Jisung squeaked again in shock, but Minho locked his fingers through Jisung’s hair and held him there as they made out. Jisung soon accepted it and made a little whine in appreciation of the feeling that was brand new to him.
Minho couldn’t help but smile at this and pulled away to bite at Jisung’s lower lip. Jisung’s breath hitched for the nth time that night and the youngers hands travelled up to Minho’s hair once Minho began kissing along Jisung’s jawline and down the side of his neck.
He was careful not to leave marks, though it was tempting when his ears were being blessed with the new sounds of Jisung moaning and gasping hot in his ear. At one particularly breathy moan of Hyung! Minho pulled away with another airy laugh.
Jisung blushed and removed his hands from Minho’s hair, suddenly embarrassed by the quiet noises he was making. He couldn’t help it, he’d never properly kissed someone before let alone made out with someone, let alone had someone kiss his neck.
Minho smiled and pulled Jisung closer, pecking at his lips softly. He had momentarily forgotten Jisung wasn’t his boyfriend.
“How was that, Jisung? Different or the same?” Minho questioned quietly, the heat of his breath fanned across Jisung’s face.
“Different. Definitely different.” Jisung smiled, hair messy and lips glossed with saliva. “I like you, hyung.”
Minho’s heart clenched, his stomach swooped. He’d wanted to hear this for so long.
“We can’t tell the others just yet.” Minho whispered, eyes holding Jisung’s admiring gaze.
“Tell them what?” Jisung tilted his head to one side in confusion.
“Tell them you’re my boyfriend, dumbass.” Minho chuckled, hands finding home at Jisung’s waist.
“Oh, right.”
And with that, they fell asleep, just like they did every other night except Jisung didn’t wait until he thought Minho was asleep to start tracing his fingers over the older boy’s skin.
Minho believed they must have left a part out of Icarus’ story. The part where Icarus was revived, and he made new wings from something that wasn’t wax. The part where Icarus flew up towards the Sun once more, and didn’t fall, but became lost within the blinding light of it. Maybe he got burnt, maybe the Sun became his paradise, Minho believe Icarus wouldn’t have minded.
Minho was okay with finishing Icarus’ story like this. Where Icarus survived and lived in harmony with the Sun by his side.
——————————