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“What do you want to watch?”
Jongin shrugs from where he’s sitting on Minseok’s bed, fingers playing nervously with the fringed edges of the big throw blanket.
“I dunno,” he says. “Whatever is fine.”
At his desk, Minseok hums as he scrolls on his laptop. “What about… the live action of The Lion King? I haven’t seen it yet.”
Jongin nods. “Yeah, sounds good.”
“Okay,” Minseok says and stands up to set the laptop on the bed.
Jongin leans with his back against the pillows, stretching his legs out in front of him, and swallows a little when Minseok climbs up beside him, their shoulders brushing as Minseok makes himself comfortable.
They’re quiet as the movie plays.
Jongin feels too keyed up to make comments like he usually does when watching something with Minseok. Any possible word gets stuck in his throat, piling up there, mixing with the tension inside him that makes him awkward and jittery, intensifying it.
It’s stupid, really. He’s lost count of how many times he’s been to Minseok’s house. For breakfast, lunch, dinner, after school. He’s lost count of how many times he’s been in Minseok’s room, sat on this very same bed with Minseok, studying, watching movies, listening to music, playing games. And the same goes for Minseok with Jongin’s house. It’s normal for them. It’s nothing new. And yet, everything is different.
Jongin wonders when things started to change, how everything shifted from easy and comfortable to a hurricane of stomach butterflies. How he didn’t even notice until suddenly, he knew. It was there and he knew. Almost too clear, so obvious. He knew. This heart that’s beating in his chest isn’t Jongin’s, it belongs to Minseok.
They gravitate towards each other as the movie progresses, scooting closer and closer together, first their shoulders, then their arms. At some point, Jongin gets a little brave and gently lets his head rest on Minseok’s shoulder, heart kicking up in his chest when he feels the weight of Minseok’s head leaning against his own in return.
A few moments later, Minseok throws his arm around Jongin’s shoulders, pulling him even closer to his side, and Jongin curls up against him, those familiar butterflies taking flight as he puts his head on Minseok’s chest.
Movie forgotten, Jongin drifts off like this, enveloped in warmth and with Minseok’s quick heartbeat under his palm.
When he wakes up, it’s to a hand gently shaking his shoulder. He turns his face and slowly blinks his eyes open. It’s dark outside, the lamp on Minseok’s nightstand casting a muted yellow glow around the room.
“What time is it?”
“Almost dinner time.” Minseok says, voice hushed.
Groggily, Jongin moves to push himself up but freezes when he looks up and finds Minseok’s face barely a breath apart from his own.
Minseok is lying on his side, propped up on his elbow. His hand is on the pillow beside Jongin’s head, the back of his fingers almost brushing Jongin’s cheek, and his other arm is draped over Jongin’s waist.
The light of the lamp falls softly across his face, making his eyes glint, and his dark eyelashes throw shadows on his cheeks with every slow blink, gaze fixed on Jongin’s face.
Minseok’s lips part ever so slightly and Jongin’s eyes fall on them, drawn like a magnet. They’re pink and soft looking and everything that’s been running through Jongin’s mind for weeks, and suddenly the urge to just kiss them becomes almost impossible to control. Jongin swallows hard.
Minseok is too close.
“I-Iー” Jongin exclaims and Minseok jerks, guilty eyes flicking up to meet Jongin’s.
He pulls away and sits back on his heels. “I should, um,” he clears his throat, looking away. “I should probably take you back home. It’s late.”
Jongin’s heart is thudding in his chest as he finally pulls himself up. “Yeah.”
The drive is quiet, painfully so. Neither of them speak and there’s no music to fill the tense silence. Jongin’s mind races as he fiddles with the strap of his backpack, millions of thoughts tripping over each other, but he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know if there’s anything to say, and when Minseok parks in front of Jongin’s house, they only exchange mumbled goodbyes.
Much later, when Jongin is lying in bed trying to fall asleep, his phone buzzes with a call from Minseok.
Jongin swallows before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” comes Minseok hushed voice.
“Hi.”
“Sorry for calling so late.” Minseok apologizes. Minseok never apologizes for calling at night, no matter how late it is. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I…” Jongin says, a little taken aback.
“I justー” Minseok continues. “I just can’t stop thinking about how weird things got in the car, we didn’t say a word, I… I’m worried I fucked things up. Are you okay? I mean, are weー are we okay?”
Jongin sits up at that, slowly, letting the covers pool in his lap. “I’m okay, we’re okay. I’m not… I’m not mad or anything, I’m just…” he shrugs helplessly. “Confused, I guess.”
“About what?”
Jongin hesitates, biting his lip. “It’s just… honestly, things have been kind of… of weird for some time. For me. Way before the car.”
“How so?”
Minseok’s tone isn’t probing, but there’s a certain something surfacing from beneath the hush of his voice, a nervous kind of energy that sounds almost like anticipation, and Jongin hugs his knees to his chest as he gathers the courage to speak his next words.
“Like… like things that used to be normal and comfortable… have started being less normal. I’ve been feeling some kind of… of tension.”
Jongin presses his lips tight together when he finishes talking. He doesn’t know if he made any sense, if Minseok even heard him for how quiet he spoke, how tentatively, the words almost refusing to get out. His heart beats fast, his stomach rolls unpleasantly, and years seem to pass before Minseok speaks again.
“Me too.”
Jongin’s eyes widen and his hand flies to grip at the covers. “Y-Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Minseok repeats. “Like at my house earlier. When I woke you up and you were getting up. Iー I really wanted to kiss you then.”
Jongin’s heart stops in his chest at the same time his breath catches in his throat. He swallows, a little thickly, his fingers like an iron grip around his phone.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”
“I did.”
A beat of silence.
“Then I’m kissing you tomorrow.”
Warmth explodes inside Jongin’s chest, the hurricane of stomach butterflies stirring up once again, more powerful than ever before, making him breathless.
“O-Oh,” he stutters, blinking rapidly. “Okay. Okay, that’sー that’s good. Yeah. Youー you do that.”
Minseok chuckles and it makes Jongin melt on his bed.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yeah.”
“Good night, Jongin.”
“Good night.”
Beside him, Sehun is chattering away, mouth running a mile a minute, but Jongin doesn’t hear a word he’s saying, too preoccupied with scanning the hallway that’s bustling with students.
Anticipation and nervousness mix together, making his chest tight and his legs jittery. The first period bell is almost about to ring and he still hasn’t seen Minseok. Of course, they hadn’t settled on an exact time, or any time at all for that matter, only tomorrow, but Jongin isn’t sure he can wait until lunch. Or that he won’t have overthought everything by then and convinced himself it was all a lucid dream.
With one last look over his shoulder, he sighs and turns to his locker, unloading the last of his backpack.
All of a sudden, hands grab Jongin’s shoulders and spin him around. Jongin’s eyes widen when he sees Minseok standing in front of him, beautiful and smiling and out of breath, and before he can so much as open his mouth to squeak out something, Minseok cups his face and pulls him down into a kiss.
Jongin melts into it immediately.
Minseok’s mouth is just as soft as it looks, and warm too. It fits perfectly against Jongin’s, making it tingle with every press and every slide. Jongin gets greedy pretty fast though and swipes his tongue across Minseok’s lips, slipping past them as soon as they part. Something that can only be described as fireworks burst inside Jongin when their tongues curl around each other, deepening the kiss, making it impossibly better, and the tingling feeling spreads from Jongin’s lips to all over his skin.
It feels like both an eternity and only a mere second has passed when they finally stop kissing. Minseok is smiling at him, resting their foreheads together, and Jongin licks his lips, a thrill going up his spine when he can taste Minseok on them.
“I couldn’t wait until lunch,” Minseok murmurs just as the bell rings.
A smile breaks on Jongin’s face, just as wide as Minseok’s own.
“Me neither,” he whispers.