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“Hey.”
Jisung scoots closer, then gives up and slides his seatbelt behind him before leaning to the side until his head is in Minho’s lap.
“Hey,” Minho grunts back, glancing down at him over his phone. In the seat in front of them, Seungmin is similarly glued to his screen, and Chan is probably dozing off in the passenger seat. It’s dark around them—their schedules run late when they’re promoting, and Jisung feels similarly tired since the thrill of being onstage had subsided once he stepped back into the van. Not to mention, Minho’s lap is warm and now half laying-down he can really feel the lull of the moving vehicle. He could definitely fall asleep if he wanted to, but he kind of also wants Minho’s attention.
“Hyung,” Jisung says, allowing his voice to rise a little higher to instigate maximum annoyance.
“What,” Minho replies, setting his phone in the empty water bottle holder to the side.
Jisung giggles. Even Minho—of whom radio show hosts and magazines love to rave about with his defined jaw and sharp nose—has a slight double chin at this angle, revealed by the passing streetlights that cast flitting shadows over his face. Somehow Jisung is still enamoured.
“Nothing,” Jisung says, snickering. “Nice double chin.”
“Brat,” Minho says back, but there’s a fond smile on his mouth as he looks back down at Jisung.
Jisung sticks a grubby finger up to poke said chin and Minho flinches away, but there’s only so far he can lean back in the confined backseat of the car and Jisung’s finger easily follows. He laughs until Minho glares at him, threatening.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Jisung tells him.
“You sure?” Minho replies, dubious. And then there is a jab to Jisung’s stomach and he nearly shrieks, stopping himself only with the reflexive thought that he’ll wake Chan up if he does.
“Truce! Truce,” Jisung hisses, laughing even more this time. Then he schools his voice into something sickeningly sweet. “Sorry. You look good as always, hyung!”
Even in the dimness Jisung can clearly see Minho rolling his eyes down at him, but his tickling fingers come up to rest in Jisung’s hair, carding rhythms through them until Jisung falls asleep in his lap.
---
Three A.M. in the dorms isn’t that late.
It’s all relative, really. Jisung has stayed up much later—they all have—but even though his eyelids have started to feel heavy he still feels restless somehow, like he isn’t quite ready to go to bed yet.
And his stomach is grumbling.
Jisung slinks to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway and blinking rapidly as his eyes take in the bright lights on. That’s odd. He knows they all occasionally stop by the kitchen for midnight (or post-midnight, in this case) snacks but generally the chances of him running into others is low.
Even stranger when he peers through the clear doors and realizes the person standing by the stove is Minho. Usually Minho is one of the first to sleep, and one of the only members that actually has some semblance of a normal sleep schedule.
“Minho-hyung?” Jisung says, sliding the doors open.
“Jisungie?” Minho responds, recognizing his voice before he turns around. Jisung takes in the faint rise of steam and hears the bubbling water and his stomach pulls him forward.
“Ramen?” he eagerly asks.
Minho sees Jisung advancing towards him like the hungry predator he is and waves a pair of chopsticks at him in a defensive stabbing motion. “Make your own,” he says, face stoic.
“Hyunggggg,” Jisung whines. He’s about to launch into a spiel about how Minho’s already standing there and how the elder always makes better-tasting ramen when Minho bursts into soft peals of laughter.
“I’m kidding. Go sit down. I haven’t even put in the noodles yet, so yeah, I can make you some,” he says.
“Thank you!” Jisung grins as brightly as he can, retreating to the table and flopping bonelessly into the nearest seat. “What brings you here this late?” he tries.
“What, so you’re allowed to be hungry but I’m not?” Minho leans back against the counter to face him, offering a roll of eyes, but his smile is fond. Somehow, under the fluorescent kitchen lights, he still looks so good, hair fluffy and his hoodie sleeves creeping over the backs of his hands to create cute sweater paws.
“Sorry!” Jisung yelps, rather not-sorry. “Didn’t know if it was hunger or if you couldn’t sleep or anything like that. And you know if it’s the latter you can always talk to me, right?”
Minho lets out a tsk ing noise through his teeth. “I know, I know, but why does it suddenly feel like you’re the older one here?”
“Maybe that’s ‘cuz I’m more mature,” Jisung smugly retorts, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.
Minho narrows his eyes. “You wish. And don’t you dare prop your stinky feet on the table just to look cool, or I’m not making you any ramen.”
“What!” Jisung gasps dramatically. “I just showered! My feet are clean.”
“Sure,” Minho drawls. “But I don’t want them anywhere close to the surface that we eat on.”
“Whatever you say, hyung!” Jisung replies cheerily. “As long as you’re still making me food!”
Minho huffs. “I know. I’m the best.”
“You are,” Jisung sincerely agrees, perhaps too sincerely, and the room falls silent. Then there’s crinkling as Minho empties the noodles out of their packets into the pot of water.
“So…” Jisung says. “Hungry this late? Aren’t you normally asleep by now?”
“Alright, you got me,” Minho tells him. “I couldn’t sleep, not sure why. But then I got hungry, so.”
Jisung laughs, and then kicks his chair back as he stands up again. “Hyung, just sitting here is making me cold. Can you hurry up at all?”
“You little—” Minho hisses at him, but the tone of his voice indicates that he’s teasing too. “You’re just full of demands today, aren’t you? Yeah, I’ll just ask the noodles if they want to boil any faster.”
“Thank you~” Jisung singsongs, and then tiptoes up to Minho and attacks him by enveloping his arms around Minho’s waist in a backhug. Minho stiffens at the sudden contact, but then relaxes and gives the ramen another stir.
Jisung was joking about making the noodles cook faster, but he wasn’t joking about being cold. He had made the mistake of wandering to the kitchen in only a t-shirt and shorts, and the air wafting through their dorm seems especially cold in the middle of the night. Minho, on the other hand, has on a sweatshirt and sweatpants, so hugging him was just an easy solution.
Jisung sticks his hands into Minho’s pockets from behind and hooks a chin over his shoulder to peers at the ramen floating in the pot. Then, feeling especially mischievous, he tiptoes to try and stick his face further forward to get a waft of the steam—the steam is also warm, after all. But in the end he really just pushes Minho closer to the stove instead, resulting in Minho’s shoulders shaking and bumping into Jisung’s chin as the other fails to stifle his laughter.
“Just one more minute,” Minho tells him, when their laughter dies down. Jisung rests his head back on Minho’s shoulders, latching onto the warmth he feels at their proximity. Honestly, he kind of understands why Felix is always seeking out the other members for skinship—it just feels so nice and comfortable , especially after a long day.
When the noodles are done Minho ends up feeding him out of his own bowl over his shoulder, since Jisung won’t detach himself from the other.
“I’ll be too cold sitting back at the table,” Jisung petulantly grouses, secretly pleased at the excuse it provides to allow him to plaster himself to Minho.
“Sungie, I already made you noodles and now I have to do more?” Minho returns. But there’s no real heat to it, so Jisung gets to stay warm and gets a full stomach, and that makes him feel really really good.
---
The practice room is for… practicing.
But practicing isn’t the only thing that happens in the practice room.
One morning Jisung shows up to the room almost half an hour late—he’s pretty sure Jeongin had tried to wake him up and he had woken up, but then had fallen back asleep. So now he’s late and he’s skipped breakfast, with only himself to blame.
He fully expects to get a mild scolding from Chan or perhaps Minho, but when he arrives Chan is actually nowhere to be seen. And neither is Jeongin. And the others seem to be playing some variation of blind hide-and-seek judging by the way Felix has his eyes adorably scrunched shut and his arms are blindly groping the air and the way Hyunjin has squatted himself into a tiny ball in one of the corners. Jisung tries to slip inside, unnoticed, but both Changbin and Minho turn at the sound of the door opening and Minho shoots him a wry glance.
“Hey, I’m not actually late? Where are the others?” Jisung asks, offering a sheepish grin.
“Jisung!” Felix exclaims, opening his eyes at Jisung’s voice and leaving the game momentarily forgotten.
Minho laughs. “Channie told me he’s finishing something up in the studio… so actually you are.”
“Oh, you’re definitely late,” Jeongin’s voice suddenly pipes up, and Jisung sees a wooden flap swinging up, revealing Jeongin’s head from behind one of the cabinets. It’s… one of the trash cabinets. Jisung stifles his laughter—he hadn’t gone in there with the intention of hiding from others but he has been in there before, just to see if he’d fit. It’s actually surprisingly roomy inside.
“Loser has to do twenty push-ups,” Jeongin tells him, and that would explain why he’s taking the game so seriously.
“Wait, that’s not fair!” Felix spins on him, though his frown melts instantly at the sight of Jeongin’s crinkled eyes teasing him. “There’s no way I would have been able to find you.”
Jeongin sticks his tongue out. “Sucks for you.”
Jisung sets his phone on the counter. “You aren’t practicing yet?”
“We did a bunch of stretches already,” Jeongin tells him, still peering out of the trash. “Channie-hyung’s gonna be here soon and we thought we’d be nice and wait for you,” he says.
“More like lazy,” Jisung retorts, because he can’t help himself.
“How about you do twenty push-ups,” Minho juts in, lips curled up in a smirk. “We’ve already warmed up so it’s only fair.”
“Oh, no, nononono,” Jisung vehemently shakes his head, backing up against the mirrors. “I should just sit out the game too since you’ve already started.”
“Great!” Changbin claps his hands devilishly. “Then let’s start over,” he declares, sending Jisung a wicked look that means he too is delighting in the younger’s misery. “I’ll be the seeker.”
“What,” Felix says, jutting his lower lip out in a pout. “I won rock-paper-scissors so you can’t just take my role. Now you’re volunteering so you don’t have to do push-ups either.”
Changbin snorts, but easily relents. “Fine. Just try and get Jisung, okay?”
“No!” Jisung screeches so loudly that Changbin nearly collapses to the floor from laughing so hard. But Felix has already shut his eyes again and is making a beeline for where he last saw Jisung, so he bolts behind Changbin’s back, giving Changbin a push in Felix’s direction in the hopes that Changbin is found instead. He’s not so fortunate; Changbin ducks out of the way, sending Jisung a gloating smile at evading his demise.
They’re just lucky that Chan arrives and they start practice before Felix can land his flailing hands on any of them.
Some hours later finds Jisung sprawled out with his back against the hardwood floor like a starfish.
Hyunjin joins him there, both of them catching their breath as they stare up at the JYP-lettered ceiling. They had just recorded a dance practice video, and they had to do quite a few takes to get through the entire thing without anyone making any significant mistakes. Jisung feels spent, but in a good sort of way, the way that will hopefully allow him to fall asleep quickly tonight knowing that they’ve been working hard preparing their stages for fans.
To the side of them, the others’ voices rise up in some sort of commotion. Jisung hears the words loser and game being thrown out again and thinks not again, tuning out their voices as his heartbeat returns to its resting state. Thankfully, Jisung and Hyunjin seem to have been left blissfully undisturbed.
That is, until Jisung senses footsteps coming to a stop close to the crown of his head, and Minho’s face comes into view upside-down as the elder leans over him from above.
“Hi,” Minho says, and even upside-down Jisung can tell that the frown is really a grin. He doesn’t like the sly glint in Minho’s eyes either.
“What,” Jisung says.
“Binnie and I lost rock-paper-scissors to get snacks but since he always loses we decided to volunteer you to accompany me instead,” Minho tells him, a playful lilt in his voice.
Changbin cackles from the sidelines. “Minho-hyung just wants to spend more time with you!”
“Hey!” Minho steps back and Jisung tilts his head to see him facing Changbin, who has been quick to situate himself in a cozy position on one of the couches. “You suggested it, and I agreed,” Minho argues defiantly, but the tips of his ears are red.
Jisung drags himself up. “Both of you suck,” he says. “C’mon,” he tells Minho, looping an arm around his elbow and dragging him out the room—though not before pocketing his own phone and turning back to shoot Changbin a glare on the way out. “If you liked me that much you could’ve just directly said so,” Jisung announces as they turn down the hallway to the elevator.
Minho scoffs. “Sure,” he dryly replies. “But you know that I’d prefer to get snacks with you than Changbin,” he says, shooting Jisung a conspiratorial wink that has them both laughing. It’s half-joking, since they always poke fun at the other members behind their backs, but there’s also a note of sincerity in his tone that makes Jisung’s breath catch in his throat. Minho shoots him a cheeky smile and Jisung’s heart does that thing where it starts thumping really loudly, louder than the kick in any of their songs. Even though Jisung knows Minho can’t hear it he’s sure to respond in a louder voice as they enter the elevator, just in case.
Anyway, snacks.
---
Whenever they record new songs, Jisung always finds himself surprised by Minho. He seems to get better and better each time—they all do, though—and Jisung can’t help the proud smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth as he enters the recording studio and sees Minho in the booth pouring his all into a song.
Of course, Minho’s their dance leader and all, but Jisung still remembers how shaky and terrified he had been of singing and rapping for evaluations in their trainee days. None of them are perfect, but Minho’s confidence has greatly improved, and Jisung hopes that singing is now something Minho can take more pride in.
At the end of a take, Minho catches sight of Jisung’s stepping into the room and shoots him a smile. It’s small, a barely perceptible upward quirk of his lips before he’s running through another take, but all Jisung can think is that he really really loves music—though what he really loves is creating music and performing with all the people he loves.
---
Sometimes Jisung’s thoughts start drifting. It probably doesn’t help that he downed an entire iced americano before they got here—the caffeine has helped him feel more awake, but now he kind of needs to do the opposite and sleep while he still has the opportunity to. Instead he feels jittery and he’s used the bathroom twice in the past hour, much to the barely-concealed amusement of Minho, who had wisely nursed his matching drink instead and still has half a cup left.
Jisung’s current brain is a jumble of assorted song lyrics, musings about what they should order later for lunch, and also a bit of homesickness—it’s been a while since he’s seen his family in person, even though he tries to call them somewhat regularly.
They’ve been up for hours but it’s still quite early in the morning, holed up in the waiting room for pre-recordings. Most of the others are either getting their makeup and hair done or trying to catch a few winks in between.
Jisung already had his hair and face worked on, and he has an entire couch to himself since Hyunjin and Jeongin volunteered to take the floor. Both of them have already dozed off, but Jisung just can’t sleep.
He sits back up and casts a few looks around. Across the room by the mirrors, a makeup-noona is hovering over Seungmin, dabbling some of whatever that is on his cheeks. They’ve done this process so many times and yet Jisung still barely understands all the various things that end up on his face.
Chan and Felix are curled up together on the sofa opposite him, and the small rise and fall of their bodies indicate that they’re asleep too. It’s almost a miracle that Chan isn’t currently working on a project, although Felix had confiscated the elder’s laptop and practically attacked him with cuddles until Chan had no choice but to allow Felix to drag him to a couch to get some rest.
Changbin is seated on the couch adjacent, typing frantically on his phone—probably jotting down some lyrics before he forgets them—but he looks just about ready to conk out.
Next to him, Minho is holding up and speaking quietly to a camera, likely filming a brief segment for a SKZ-talker. When he catches Jisung glancing his way, Minho flips the camera around to face him and Jisung can tell that Minho’s zooming in on his face.
Jisung scrunches up his cheeks and does a cute pose and this satisfies Minho, who turns the camera back to himself. “Hannie’s tired but he can’t fall asleep,” Minho informs the camera, using his hand to shield half his face like he’s conspiring with the audience.
“Hey! How’d you know that,” Jisung whispers back, because Minho was exactly on-point in his description.
Minho shrugs, occupying himself with explaining something to the camera again. Jisung takes a few moments to observe—Minho’s also had his makeup done, and he looks good, that’s for sure, although Jisung has always thought that if there was anyone in the group that didn’t need any makeup, it would be him. They probably all need it right now though, if only to cover up their eye bags. But Jisung appreciates the tiny gems the makeup-noonas have taken to placing around Minho’s eyes lately. They catch the light when Minho shuts off the camera and turns to set it on a table to the side.
“What?” Minho suddenly says, and Jisung nearly jumps even though Minho's voice is quiet, careful not to wake any of the others.
“What?” he shoots back.
Minho raises a brow. “I like the sparkles around my eyes, don’t you?” he says, and once again Jisung is caught off-guard by the way Minho reads him perfectly, how he seems to know exactly what Jisung is thinking.
“Uh. Yeah,” Jisung stutters, stutters out, and hopes his face isn’t burning up. He suddenly feels quite hot under the collar of his sweater, even when all he’s done is appreciate his fellow member’s good looks. It’s not like it’s never happened before; they’ve all given each other compliments, even if they’re sometimes begrudging.
Somehow Jisung’s response causes Minho to laugh. “Alright,” Minho says, and then crosses the room to sit next to Jisung.
“Huh?” Jisung asks, bewildered.
“Binnie can have the extra space on his couch since I think he’s going to crash any moment now,” Minho tells him, gesturing to Changbin’s drooping head. “Besides, I thought you might prefer my lap.”
“Oh.” Jisung says. This isn’t anything new either, but strangely, now he really feels hot. Still, it’s true that company sometimes helps Jisung fall asleep, and it’s also true that the person who knows that best is none other than Minho. “Thanks, hyung,” Jisung says instead, scooting his head down into Minho’s lap (not thinking about the elder’s thighs, at all).
Sure enough, despite the caffeine still in his system and the flush under his skin, the familiar warmth under Jisung’s head helps knock him out rather quickly, and he sleeps until Minho wakes him up and tells him they have to get ready for their stage.
---
Jisung’s been told that he has a habit of always holding his microphone like he’s rapping even when he’s supposed to be singing. Changbin, especially, likes pointing this out when they sometimes watch replays of their stages, even though he’s barely any better, the damn hypocrite.
Honestly, it’s not such a bad habit. The other members have their own habits on stage too, like Minho enjoys slapping the other member’s butts. Not that that’s a bad habit either, just one that is (in his opinion) more noteworthy than the way Jisung handles his mic.
Jisung’s not particularly sure when it started, only that nowadays he can’t remember a practice that goes by without Minho (or someone else, since the elder’s actions have started to rub off on them) smacking one of the member’s asses. Usually Minho just does it when he sees the opportunity; he likes making the others laugh so he generally hits hard enough to elicit a resounding and noticeable thump, though not enough to hurt. But sometimes his hand lands there and lingers there for a few seconds longer than necessary, and most times this only happens with Jisung.
Not that Jisung’s really trying to pay attention to this—he just seems to notice it happening more lately. And it’s innocuous enough, since most times Jisung will turn around to glance back at Minho only to be met with a bright smile that is more infectious than anything else.
There’s just something about that phrase that goes when you’re happy I’m happy, because, admittedly, the smile is actually what does him in more often than not. It doesn’t matter if they’re just practicing or if they’re on stage, but sometimes Jisung will catch Minho’s eyes when there’s a momentary break from the action or the dancing isn’t too rigorous, and Minho will shoot him a secretive smile and he’ll end up grinning back like a complete idiot.
Or, sometimes one of them pulls a funny face to try and get the other to laugh. In practice it doesn’t really matter, but during any pre-recordings or live stages Jisung’s become a master at cracking a grin but keeping his laughter stifled in. Inevitably someday one of them will probably laugh right into their microphone and everyone else is going to hear it, but until then Jisung’s content to keep their foolish stage exchanges a secret (even if the cameras sometimes pick them up, anyway.)
---
“You sounded good out there,” a low voice rumbles against one of his ears.
Goosebumps rise to his skin and Jisung yelps, jerking away. “You surprised me,” he hisses, turning to face Minho. “But you too,” he hurries to add.
They’re backstage only for a short time to change outfits between songs. Jisung sticks his arm through the sleeve of a new dress shirt that isn’t sweat-stained but will soon be.
Next to him, Minho does the same, though his mouth is still very close to Jisung’s face. “When you push your hair back over your forehead and get into that aggressive rapping,” Minho continues, “you look really hot.”
Heat rises to Jisung’s face against his will, and his hand reaches up to brush some of his hair to the side ever-so-consciously. A few feet away from them, Changbin snorts derisively—he probably heard some of what Minho said, since the elder isn’t really trying to be that quiet anymore.
But Minho pushes on, unperturbed. If Changbin’s eavesdropping deters him at all, it must be offset by the way Jisung’s reddening face seems to spur him on.
“I meant it,” he says earnestly “And your dancing is seriously good lately,” Minho adds.
“You… too?” Jisung squeaks out, buttoning up his shirt.
Changbin obnoxiously clears his throat, looking between the two with an unimpressed expression on his face. “The others have already headed back out and I’m going too, so please don’t forget that you have a concert to return to in less than a minute.”
Then his footsteps retreat out the room and it’s just the two of them.
“Uhm, thanks?” Jisung nervously says five beats too late—Changbin’s already gone to hear his response—before facing an amused Minho again.
Minho stares at him, head tilted to the side. It would be the perfect angle for a kiss, Jisung suddenly thinks, and rapidly wills the thought back down. Though now that the idea has occurred to him, he can’t get it out of his head. He’s glad Minho’s not a mind-reader.
“Hyung, where are you going with all these… compliments?” Jisung asks instead. Minho frequently enjoys joking around with the members but this is definitely further than they usually go; normally Jisung could easily reply with a breezy “yeah, I know I’m good,” but right now he finds himself embarrassingly affected by Minho’s words instead.
Minho grins and then he leans in and Jisung probably stops breathing for a moment.
Then Minho suddenly lets out a bright and giggly laugh. “Here,” he answers, pointing a finger and Jisung’s chest, right where his heart is. That very heart goes haywire because what is Jisung supposed to make of that?
“You’re also cute when you’re flustered.” Minho says, backing away. “Aaand time’s up, let’s go.” He tugs Jisung’s hand into his, pulling him out of his stupor so they can race back to the stage before they’re late to the next song.
Even after, Jisung’s heart won’t stop racing until after the concert is over because Minho keeps making silly eye contact and smiling at him at every single chance he gets.
---
So yeah, the… flirting… is a new development.
Okay, that’s a lie.
They always like to tease each other and make dumb jokes to try and get the other to laugh, but Jisung wouldn’t have really classified it as flirting until now.
At first it’s just Minho making offhand comments here and there, just enough to make Jisung sputter or freeze up for a moment as he tries to will the flush back beneath his skin. And now Jisung really notices it when Minho’s hand lands and stays on his ass during certain practice sessions.
But Jisung has never been one to just sit there and take it, so he is quick to up his game, giving back as much as he receives. He kind of just thinks of it as a challenge to see how often he can make Minho’s ears turn red, or how often he can leave Minho scrambling for a witty response.
Perhaps the part that should be strange is how easily they slip into this back-and-forth, and how even with this "new" development to their friendship, it still feels perfectly normal.
But if Minho’s enjoying it, and Jisung is, too, then… why should they stop?
---
“So have you and Minho-hyung kissed yet?” Jeongin bluntly asks once late at night as they’re both settling into bed.
Jisung, who has one leg under the covers, freezes, before calmly adjusting the blankets and lying down. “No, we haven’t,” Jisung replies, hoping his words don’t sound as strangled as he feels.
“Oh.” Though the lights are off, Jisung can practically hear the frown on Jeongin’s face. “Why not?” he asks.
“What?” Jisung coughs out. “What do you mean, why not?”
“I’m just surprised you haven’t,” Jeongin tells him. “You two are really close these days.”
“Yeah,” Jisung defensively replies. “Hyung’s a really good friend. So of course we spend a lot of time together.”
“Okay,” Jeongin dubiously says. “But you know that it’s fine with me either way, right?”
Jisung takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says, and leaves it at that.
The truth is, he’s thought about it before, and the idea of kissing Minho doesn’t seem nearly as scary as it once was. He’s now almost sure Minho feels the same way, too, and that doesn’t scare him nearly as much as it should, either. But, to be honest, Jisung doesn’t mind things the way they are now; any time spent with Minho is still quality time spent with Minho, and he’s content with that.
...Although, he has to admit that sometimes he does get a bit curious. About what kissing Minho would feel like, about how it would go down. And he can’t deny that curiosity seems to be growing day by day, along with the way heart keeps expanding impossibly bigger and bigger to accommodate his feelings.
So it’s really only inevitable that it eventually does happen.
---
“You must have been really tired, huh?” Minho remarks as he pulls the makeshift curtain to the side.
“Wha…” Jisung blinks up at him. Thankfully the elder had kept most of the lights off so he isn’t blinded, but he’s rather confused as to why Minho is standing there, a shadowy form amongst the other shadowy forms in the dark room.
“You’re in my bed, silly,” Minho says, laughing quietly. “You didn’t even get the right room.”
“Oh,” Jisung replies, the words finally registering in his brain. “Whoops.” He had been half asleep through the whole routine—brushing his teeth and washing up like a zombie—and somehow his feet had led him crashing to Minho’s bed instead. He has half a heart to be embarrassed but the bed is already so warm now and there’s no way he’s going to leave. “Take mine?” Jisung groggily offers up instead.
Minho snorts. “It’s fine. At least you’re getting the sleep you need.” And then he’s pushing Jisung to the side—giving his ass a light tap as he does so—to climb into the bed next to him.
“G’night,” Jisung mumbles, smushing his face back into the pillow. Wow, it smells so much like Minho—he must have really been out of it earlier.
But he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and then he’d been up for so long with their schedules booked throughout the day, so… it could have been worse, Jisung supposes.
At least he’d stumbled into Minho’s bed and not… say… Seungmin’s, because he’s pretty sure the latter would have kicked him out immediately.
The fact that his drunk-tired feet took him to Minho’s bed certainly says something else, though.
“Goodnight,” Minho whispers back, and then the room falls back into silence. Jisung knows he returned to the dorms immediately and just crashed, but he can’t hear the sound of either Seungmin or Hyunjin’s breathing, so perhaps they’re still out getting a late-night snack or something.
Jisung is halfway back to sleep when he feels a hand combing through his hair from behind. It barely pulls him back into consciousness, though he’s still too drowsy to react and continues lying there instead.
Then the covers rustle a little as Minho shifts around in the bed, and suddenly Jisung feels the faintest brush of what he can only assume are lips against the nape of his neck.
Jisung is still tired, but that sends an electrifying jolt straight to his brain, rendering him very very awake.
He rolls around to face Minho, and by face he means get right up in Minho’s face, because the bed is small and there’s almost no space between them. This close, Jisung can see the other’s eyes blown wide even in the darkness—Minho had definitely thought Jisung had fallen back asleep when he had pulled his little stunt.
So he isn’t just going to let Minho get away with it. Besides, there’s no way he’s misreading this, Jisung thinks. And Minho’s lips had felt soft— so soft—causing Jisung’s curiosity to resurface and manifest itself in an absolutely burning desire.
“Do it again,” Jisung whispers, feeling incredibly reckless.
“What?!” Minho blurts out loudly, incredulously, and Jisung is so thankful that they’re the only ones currently in the room. Minho’s eyes are so wide now that Jisung would probably laugh were he not more focused on what he’s about to say next.
“Do it again, but... on my- on my lips this time,” Jisung says, confidence faltering. The sentence comes out so quietly, though he’s sure Minho, who is only inches away, has heard all of it.
There’s a breath of silence, and then Jisung watches as Minho’s lips curl up ever-so-slowly until his face is taken over by a wide grin.
“Jisungie, are you asking me to kiss you?” Even though the darkness hides it, Jisung can practically hear the smirk in Minho’s voice.
Jisung nods, lightheaded, before realizing Minho might not be able to see that. “Yeah,” he says. It’s perhaps a miracle that the word actually leaves his mouth without Jisung stuttering or his voice cracking.
Minho laughs, and it comes out breathy and higher-strung than normal so Jisung knows he’s not the only one nervous. “Didn't know when you became capable of such bold requests,” Minho tells him, “but… I’d love to.”
And Minho does just that. He pushes himself up ever so slightly and leans forward, and Jisung sees Minho’s eyes fluttering shut before the lips he had been dreaming about for ages are finally on his.
Minho kisses slowly, softly, but with an air of impatience that suggests he is somehow holding back, and when Jisung enthusiastically chases Minho’s mouth as he leans away, Minho lets out a loud laugh. Jisung flushes, but holds eye contact with Minho, watching as the self-satisfied look on the other’s face softens into something extremely mushy and fond.
Jisung has no time to prepare himself before Minho suddenly sits up and pulls Jisung up, too, right into his lap. Cool air hits his skin but the warmth from the blankets is quickly replaced by the heat radiating from Minho, and Jisung lets out a quiet noise of surprise that is eagerly swallowed up by the elder when he leans back in to capture Jisung’s lips again.
This time the kiss is slower but more intoxicating; definitely no more holding back. Minho’s lips slide against his rougher and with a more deliberate and intense pressure that leaves Jisung breathlessly gripping onto Minho’s shoulders. One of Minho’s hands trails lower until he is giving Jisung’s ass a playful tap, and Jisung laughs into the kiss because of course Minho had to do that—though Jisung’s so far gone for him that it’s only endearing at this point.
Though they had kind of skipped the direct confessions in favour of kissing, Jisung says the obvious anyway. “I love you,” he whispers into Minho’s mouth, feeling the rising curve of the other’s lips as he does.
“I love you too,” Minho returns, pulling away to look Jisung right in the eyes. “I’ve wanted this for nearly forever, and I’m glad you asked me to kiss you tonight or I might have taken matters into my own hands sooner or later.” A small chuckle escapes his mouth and he reaches up to tuck away a strand of Jisung’s hair that had gone astray.
“Ooooh,” Jisung says, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows even as an unbidden warmth spills into his chest at the cheesy words.
“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Minho grins, wonderfully unrestrained, and Jisung savours it the same way he does for every other one of Minho’s smiles, stashing the picture away in the deepest crevices of his heart.
Even if they don’t always have the most time between busy schedules, Jisung will take whatever time he can get with Minho, especially when it’s spent like this—just the two of them, unabashedly in love with each other.
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