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Minho’s lost count of the number of shitty romcoms he’s sat through at this point in time. All he really knows is that it’s Valentine’s Day and that everything absolutely sucks. His point is only proven when Changbin steps out of his room, looking far too dolled up for ten at night.
“What are you all dressed up for, Binnie?” Minho asks his flatmate.
Changbin fluffs up his hair and turns to Minho. “Um, Hyunjin is coming over,” he says shyly. His cheeks are reddening rapidly- normally, Minho would think of this as somewhat endearing, but the fact of the matter is that it’s Valentine’s Day and he’s painfully single, so all he ends up feeling is distaste.
“I’ll head out, then,” he hears himself say, as he peels himself off the crease that has naturally formed from the hours he’s spent seated on the couch. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours, probably.”
“No, hyung, it’s fine, really,” Changbin hastens to say. “We’re just going to be in my room-”
“Changbin, I don’t need to know that-”
“No, not like that-” Changbin is the colour of a ripe tomato at this point. “You don’t need to go, hyung.”
It’s okay, I want to, Minho wants to say. The truth is, it’s been months since my breakup and I’m still not over it and I don’t think I can stand to be around any form of love right now.
He doesn’t say any of that. “It’s okay, Binnie, I’m going to go for a walk anyway,” he says instead. “You enjoy your time with your Hyunjin now, okay.” He ignores Changbin’s flustered sputtering and grabs his phone and keys, sliding on a coat before exiting his flat.
The night air is chilly, with the wind nipping at the apples of his cheeks. The bite of the cold serves to wake Minho up a little, pull him out of the funk he’s been in all day. He’s not sure how long he walks for, but the next time he really pays attention to his surroundings, he realises he has no clue where he is.
“This is fine,” he mutters to himself, pulling out his phone to use the navigation app. When his phone refuses to turn on, however, showing the symbol for a dead battery instead, he begins to panic ever-so-slightly. He turns in a slow circle, trying to spot any street signs that could help him find his way home, but everything seems to be unrecognisable. He delves into his pockets again, and feels his fingers wrap around a single coin. A coin that can be used in a telephone booth, to call Changbin. Thank fuck.
Sorry to interrupt date night, Binnie, Minho thinks. His next mission is to locate and enter a telephone box, which won’t prove to be too hard, considering that he can see at least two in his general vicinity. He speedwalks into one quickly, pulling his coat around his form. The air is getting colder. Approaching the telephone, Minho fishes the coin out of his pocket, ready to dial Changbin-
-and he freezes.
He doesn’t know Changbin’s phone number.
Fuck. Minho only has one coin, too- only one chance at calling someone out there to help him. He briefly considers calling the police, but he has no clue how he would explain the situation to them. Hey officer, so I, uh. Got lost?
He turns over the strings of phone numbers he has memorised in his head- there’s only three, really, with two of them being his parents’, who aren’t in Seoul, and the third…
The third being his ex-boyfriend’s.
*
(“Hyung, you have to memorise my number,” Jisung says, with a pout adorning his lips.
“Why would I need to do that, Jisungie? It’s saved in my phone anyway,” Minho laughs. He leans forward, pecking Jisung’s puckered lips.
“Well, I have your number memorised, so you have to memorise mine,” Jisung says. “It’s in the boyfriend rule book.”
“Ah yes, the famous ‘boyfriend rule book’,” Minho says, making air quotes with his fingers. “Fine, I’ll memorise your number. I’ll call you sometime to prove it to you.”
He never gets the chance to do so.)
*
“Well, Jisung, time for me to prove that I remember your number,” Minho mutters. He tries to pretend his fingers aren’t trembling as he slips in the coin and dials the number he knows by heart, lifting the receiver to his ear and listening to the dial tone. His mind starts racing. What is he thinking? He’s just used his one chance at a phone call to call his ex-boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. Who knows what Jisung is up to. Maybe he’s on a date. Maybe he’s asleep. Maybe he’s changed his number and there’s no point in Minho calling him and he’s just going to have to wander around until he finds his way home-
“Hello?”
It’s unmistakably Jisung’s voice. Minho inhales sharply.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Jisung,” Minho finally manages to say. There’s a prolonged pause, during which Minho wonders if Jisung might just hang up.
“...Minho hyung?” Jisung’s voice is quiet, unsure.
“I’m sorry, Jisung, I didn’t know who else to call,” Minho says. “You know what, actually, I’m probably bothering you, so I’ll just-”
“-wait, wait, hyung,” Jisung cuts him off abruptly, sounding a little more frantic. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I came out for a walk, and long story short, I kind of zoned out and got lost, and my phone is dead,” Minho explains. “I found a phone booth, and...yours is the only number I had memorised.”
“Oh,” Jisung says. The singular word weighs down on the conversation, heavy. “I’ll come get you.”
“No- Jisung, it’s okay, you could just give me directions, I’ll be able to find myself home soon enough,” Minho says hastily. The last thing he wanted to do was inconvenience the younger.
“It’s fine, I don’t like the thought of you walking home alone anyway,” Jisung replies instantly. Minho tries not to flush at the words, but he fails. “Do you see any street signs nearby?”
“Yeah,” Minho reads off the nearest sign to him, and waits for Jisung to respond.
“Okay, I’ve found it, hyung,” Minho’s heart twists a little at the honorific, one he hadn't heard in so long. “Stay where you are, okay? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Alright,” Minho mumbles. “Thank you.” He hangs up after that, wandering out of the phone booth and finding a roadside bench to perch himself on. He tilts his head up, staring at the moon hanging in the sky.
*
(“Hyung,” Jisung says. He looks uncomfortable. “I think we need to talk.”
Minho had known this would eventually happen. It always happens. People enjoy being with him superficially, until they spend too much time around him and it gets annoying and they have to leave. It hurts more with Jisung, though. A lot more.
“Yes, Jisungie?” he can tell he’s already withdrawing from the conversation, watching as Jisung bites down on his lower lip, a nervous habit.
“I think we need to take a break.”
Minho had been expecting the words, but hadn’t quite guessed how much it would hurt. He understands, though. So he clears his throat and straightens up.
“You’re right,” he says, even though every fibre of his being is telling him to beg, plead with Jisung to stay. “We should break up.”)
*
“Minho hyung?”
Minho startles. Jisung stares down at him.
“Jisung.” Jisung looks a little different compared to the last time Minho had seen him. For one, his hair is dyed now, strawberry blonde strands of hair falling out of his snapback. He’s got his glasses on, the ones that Minho knows he actually needs, not just for aesthetic purposes, and he thinks he sees at least one new piercing on the lining of Jisung’s ear.
However different he looks, though- he’s still so damn familiar. From the way he stands to the way his eyes dart nervously to and away from Minho, he’s still the same boy that Minho had used to love. Scratch that. Loves, present tense.
“Come on, we can use Google maps to get back to yours,” Jisung says. The atmosphere is awkward. It had never been awkward before, not with them. Minho nods and gets up, walking by Jisung’s side silently. They make it for all of three minutes before Minho can’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
Jisung raises an eyebrow. “What for?”
“Calling you out here,” Minho starts. “Burdening you, I don’t know.”
“Shut up, hyung, I know you’d do the same for me,” Jisung says dismissively. He goes silent for a moment, before going: “Um, what brought you here in the middle of the night?”
“Oh, Changbin invited Hyunjin over. For, um. Valentine’s day, so I thought I’d give them some alone time,” Minho explains. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his coat, fidgeting with his fingers silently.
“Right,” Jisung says. “So you weren’t…”
“Weren’t what?”
“On a date?”
Minho’s eyebrows raise with surprise involuntarily. Jisung, seemingly taking this as a bad sign, begins to backtrack fervently. “I’m sorry, I was totally overstepping. It’s none of my business, I shouldn’t have-”
“I wasn’t.”
Jisung pauses. “You…”
“I wasn’t on a date,” clarifies Minho, quietly.
“Oh. Cool,” Jisung’s eyes widen. “I mean, not that that’s a good thing, or anything! I just meant, well. That’s good to know, I guess.”
Minho nods awkwardly, trying not to let a smile overtake his face. Despite the odd vibe of their conversation, he can easily admit that he had missed this- being with Jisung, exchanging casual conversation with him. One question burns in his mind, however- and if Jisung was able to ask it to him...fuck it, so will he.
“What about you?” he asks. Jisung tilts his head. One of his earrings catches the light of a nearby streetlamp. Minho tries not to stare.
“Me?”
“Yeah. Were you...on a date?”
“Oh,” Jisung says. “No, I wasn’t.” He smiles wistfully. “I had a plan, though.”
*
(“Hyung!” Jisung skids into the room, phone in hand. “Pick a number. One or two.”
Minho cocks an eyebrow confusedly. “What is this for?” he asks suspiciously.
“Just pick, hyung.”
“Fine,” Minho pauses, turning over the options in his head. “Uh...two.”
“Great choice,” Jisung’s eyes sparkle, and he turns to leave the room.
“Hang on, Sungie!” Minho calls out. “What is this for?” his voice comes out unintentionally whiny. Jisung smiles at him fondly, re-entering the room to plant a messy kiss on the top of Minho’s head.
“They were both ideas for our Valentine’s day date,” Jisung explains. “Number one was Lotte World.”
“What about the one I chose?”
“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, baby!” Jisung chirps cheekily.)
*
Minho’s cheeks colour as the memory surfaces in his mind. “You know,” he starts hesitantly. “You never did tell me what your plan was.”
Jisung raises an eyebrow. “I suppose I didn’t,” he says. “It’s not like it matters now, anyway.”
Minho frowns to himself. They fall into a hesitant silence, with only the sounds of their feet gently hitting the pavement being heard. Eventually, the streets stop blending into one, and Minho starts to recognise the sights and signs. His heart starts to beat rapidly as his building comes into view.
Don’t let him go again, his brain yells at him.
He doesn’t even want me, Minho yells back.
Just take a fucking chance for once, his heart goes. Minho’s resolve crumbles as they come to a standstill in front of his apartment building.
“So-”
“Okay then-” The pair start speaking at the same time. Minho stops and motions to Jisung.
“You can go first,” he says. Jisung nods.
“I just wanted to wish you a good night, hyung,” he says awkwardly. “Thank you for calling me.”
Minho snorts. “If anything, it should be me thanking you for helping me out tonight,” he scoffs. “It’s late, you really didn’t have to.”
Jisung rolls his eyes. “I told you, I wanted to,” he emphasises. “Anyway. What were you going to say?”
Minho hesitates. Do it, his brain yells.
“I just wanted to…” he pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Your plan for Valentine’s day...what was it? For us?”
Jisung sighs, removing his snapback and running a hand through his disheveled hair. “It really doesn’t matter, Minho hyung.”
Minho lets out a wry chuckle. “Humour me, Jisung.”
“Okay,” Jisung acquiesces. “I wrote you a song.”
Minho’s lips part in surprise as Jisung plows on. “It’s called Close. I was going to cook a homemade dinner for us before letting you listen to it.”
As far as Minho’s knowledge lies, Jisung has never attempted to cook in his life. The revelation causes a surge of pure longing to swell within him, the emotions so strong that he finds tears gathering in his eyes. Jisung's eyes go comically round at the sight.
“Hyung, are you... crying?” he says shrilly, sounding equal parts alarmed and vexed. Minho sniffs, lifting one of his cold hands to swipe away the tears on his face.
“Can I listen to it?” When Jisung doesn’t respond, Minho continues. “The song, I mean. Will you let me listen to it?”
“I…” Jisung’s eyes flit between the ground and Minho’s face. His expression shutters. “I’m sorry, hyung. I can’t do that.”
Minho’s heart clenches painfully. So much for maintaining a good relationship, he supposes. “Uh, okay-” he begins to say.
“-I mean,” Jisung cuts in. “Maybe I’ll release it someday, you know. When I’m over this.”
Over this? Minho tilts his head in confusion. His expression seems to do the talking, and Jisung seems to take it as his cue to go on. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. You wanted to break up-” Hang on. What? “-and that’s fine. It’s just taking me a while to get over it. Clearly,” Jisung laughs, humourlessly. “I’m alone on Valentine’s day, going out in the middle of the night to help my ex-boyfriend who I’m still hopelessly pining after-”
“Fuck, what?” Minho explodes. Jisung goes silent, staring at Minho with wide eyes. “You asshole. You’re the one who wanted to take a break, not me!”
“Yeah, that’s because you’d been distancing yourself from me for weeks beforehand! I didn’t want to break up, but then you made it abundantly clear that you did, hyung,” Jisung spits bitterly. Minho’s heart begins to race, thoughts swirling in his mind as he tries to make sense of the situation.
“You...you didn’t want to break up with me?” he whispers.
Jisung’s shoulders sag with defeat. “Of course not, hyung.” he murmurs. “I’d never leave you.”
Minho sighs shakily and takes an imperceptible step forward, eyes facing the ground.
“Everyone gets tired of me,” he says, quietly.
Jisung blinks at him confusedly.
“Whenever I meet people. They like hanging out with me until they get to know me better. And then they get annoyed. And they leave.”
“Hyung…”
“I guess I knew that it would happen with you, eventually. And fuck, I didn’t want it to. Not with you. I guess I thought that if I distanced myself...it would hurt less. When you decided to leave me.”
When Minho looks up, Jisung is staring at him with unconcealed astonishment. “You’re such a fucking idiot,” he says, and Minho tries not to wince. Jisung steps forward, reaching out to grab Minho’s hands in his own. “You’re such an idiot for thinking I’d ever leave you.”
Hope blooms in Minho’s chest like a flower in springtime. He turns his hands in Jisung’s, manoeuvring them until their fingers are interlaced. “If I’m an idiot, so are you for thinking I’d ever want to break up with you.”
Jisung smiles at him-the kind that Minho hasn’t witnessed in ages. It’s a genuine, happy smile-all bright and heart-shaped. “I missed you so much,” he breathes.
Minho doesn't respond verbally, choosing to shuffle closer instead, dragging Jisung’s arms to loop around his own waist as he drapes his arms around Jisung’s neck. “Can I…?” he trails off, leaving the question unspoken.
Jisung answers him by pulling back before pressing his lips to Minho's.
The first touch of their lips feels like home, like warmth and comfort and relief all wrapped into one. Minho melts, fingers tangling into Jisung’s hair as their lips move against each other. Jisung’s grip on his waist tightens, and they kiss for what seems like forever. Minutes, hours, days... Minho doesn’t particularly care. Not when he’s finally got Jisung back in his arms.
When they finally pull apart, Jisung rests his forehead against Minho’s gently.
“I’m sorry,” Minho murmurs into the minimal distance between them. “I should have gone to you when I was feeling insecure.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Jisung whispers. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.” He pulls away from Minho, but tangles their fingers together as a consolation, so Minho doesn’t miss his presence too much. He reaches into his coat and pulls out his phone, opening it up to his music app.
“So,” he says. “Do you still want to listen to it?”
Right. The song. Minho smiles shyly at Jisung, nodding wordlessly. Jisung takes this as his cue to extract his earphones from his pocket, offering one to him with a small smile.
And as he stands on the sidewalk, his fingers intertwined with Jisung’s as the soft, lilting melody of Close washes over them, Minho decides that Valentine’s day doesn’t suck that much, after all.