Work Text:
Ikea.
Or as Minho refers to it, the gates to Hell
“Come on now, I want to get back before the blizzard hits!” Jisung yells out, clearly very excited to get into the building crafted by Satan himself with his own little hands. Minho scowls, pressing down the button of the car keys to lock the doors before following Jisung through the parking lot. It’s pretty quiet, there aren’t all that many cars in the parking lot. Not all that surprising as the store closes in an hour and everyone’s rushing to get their last-minute purchases done to get home for the weekend. And yeah, there’s the blizzard that’s about to hit. Snow’s already falling and wind has picked up, but Jisung and Felix have both insisted they need more fairy lights and decorations for their weekend festivities, so here they are.
At Ikea.
Only instead of Felix, there’s Minho at the Ikea with Jisung. Because Felix is baking cookies and he’s too busy. And because Minho is a sucker. He is a sucker for Jisung, and no one else knows that except Chan, and no one else needs to know that except Chan. Minho is a sucker for Jisung and he’s ready to do everything the boy ever asks from him. Which includes a trip to Ikea. On a Friday evening. Right before a blizzard.
Minho steps in through the gigantic doors and is met with the sight of an enormous hallway, laden with lights that hurt his eyes after the darkness of the outside. Minho shakes the snow off of his shoulders and Jisung swats some of it off of his head. The touch - too much that of a friend’s - sends a spark down his spine but he doesn’t let it show. Instead he offers to pat the snow off of Jisung’s shoulders, too.
“Just some lights and decorations, then. We don’t need to see the showrooms”, Minho mumbles as Jisung excitedly squeals and begins to lead them to the upper floor.
To the showrooms.
“Minho, come on! Live a little, I want to see it all now that we’re here! And we need to see how the lights actually look when used. And the decorations!”
Minho sighs, and then begins walking up the stairs after Jisung’s lead. Because he is a sucker. And if Jisung wants to see the showrooms, then they’ll see the showrooms. And Minho is ready to endure that, because he is a sucker for Jisung.
See, Minho hates Ikeas. Loathes them, actually. They’re these gigantic stores with kilometers upon kilometers of every single fucking thing that exists in the world. Or that’s how it feels, at least. They’re just. Overwhelming. They’re enormous. There’s too many people. The shelves are too big and they feel like they can fall down on you at any given moment. They’re too much. There’s screaming kids and people who bump into each other and you can’t get out of Ikea without buying at least a new lamp, a set of candles, a new shelf, seventeen plants and a shoehorn, when you initially came for a new sofa. And then you forget the damn sofa. And then you have to go back to the Hell that is this enormous furniture store called Ikea.
But there’s Jisung. So Minho will endure. Even if he now has to walk around the entire store, but Jisung has stars in his eyes because he loves furniture and designing and furnishing interiors and all that stuff that Minho doesn’t really care about. But Jisung does. So Minho follows after him. Because he is a sucker for him.
“Oh look at this, this is so pretty!”
They stop in front of the first showroom of the room exhibition. Or whatever the hell it’s called. It’s just a room for Minho, mostly white in color, but apparently it’s something more for Jisung.
“Remember that the store closes in an hour”, Minho says as Jisung feels the fabric of the curtains. Jisung hums and Minho knows he’s barely registered what Minho has just said. They move to the next room, which is yet another bedroom, it doesn’t catch Jisung’s eye, but the next one does. So they stop again as Jisung examines the rooms and Minho stares into nothingness. He can hear the wind outside rattle something, it’s clearly picked up a lot and quickly. His phone buzzes, it’s Changbin telling them to get some batteries, too.
“Jisung, we should get going, the storm is coming and I don’t want to drive back in a full-blown blizzard”, Minho tries again. The drive back takes over an hour. Why are all of the Ikeas always in the middle of nowhere?
“Yes, yes”, Jisung mutters out, before he almost squeals: “Oh, don’t you think those lights are pretty? They’d look so good!” He points at the lights in front of a fake window and Minho shrugs. They look like… lights. Warm yellow fairy lights. There’s nothing special about them to Minho.
Fluorescent lights above them, way too bright, one of them flickers. Another showroom, then another, there’s a bunch of sofas lined up and Jisung wants to try every single one of them. He laughs, bounces a little on the seats, pulls Minho along to try out a bright yellow sofa that’s way too soft and engulfing for his liking. But Jisung laughs, so Minho lets him pull him along. He can’t lie, the smile on Jisung’s face is catching on to him, too. Minho knows Jisung is being like this for a reason. Jisung knows Minho doesn’t like Ikeas, or any department stores like this, or any places like this, so he’s trying to make it at least somewhat funny. And he’s succeeding, at least somewhat. There’s no screaming kids nor too many people, there’s just Jisung and Minho moving from one showroom to another as Jisung rates them from one to ten in a very expert-like way.
The phone buzzes again, the store closes in half an hour and Minho and Jisung haven’t even got past the bedrooms yet. Minho knows they’ll have to hurry, they still have half of the showrooms to go through as well as the entire lower floor with all of the… things. All of them. Minho sighs as Jisung pulls him to another exhibition, a large bedroom with a lot of greenery in it (fake, of course) and mutters something about the shelves not matching the carpet. Minho reads the message, it’s Chan asking them where they are as the storm outside is getting worse. Minho texts him a quick “still at the store” before Jisung pulls him along again. Chan wouldn’t let this happen. Perhaps Minho should have just let Chan go with Jisung because Chan knows how to hurry and how to hurry Jisung but Minho doesn’t because he likes seeing Jisung so happy and excited and he knows they will never get out of the store in time so Chan should have come instead of Minho. But Minho had offered himself. Insisted on going, even, and Chan had given him a knowing look which Minho had nearly swatted off of his face.
“Oh, this looks so cute! Your kids would love these!” ‘Your kids’ means Minho’s cats and yes, they would love the little shelves on the walls that are lined so that a cat could possibly climb on them, perhaps even sleep on them.
“Mmhm”, Minho hums as an answer.
“These curtains would look wonderful, don’t you think? Imagine if we shared a flat! Roommates, or, or- something!” Minho misses the blush on Jisung’s cheeks as he turns his gaze away. Oh, yeah, imagine. As if Minho hasn’t imagined it all a thousand times, except that in those imaginations they are not roommates, but something else. Something deeper. Something… more intimate. Minho has imagined it. A thousand times. Waking up next to Jisung as something else than friends. It doesn’t help that Jisung is naturally so cuddly, so… friendly and touchy and he gets close so easily and it’s all so easy for him, it messes with Minho’s head and suddenly he wants to be something more. Minho is anything but all of those things. He doesn’t let people in easily. He’s not very fond of cuddling, it all doesn’t come naturally to him as it does to Jisung. But it’s all natural to Jisung, he does it with everyone and Minho is nothing special. And here lies the problem.
Minho is nothing special.
Jisung does it all with everyone, and it makes Minho feel insecure. He likes Jisung, so much he would fetch the stars for him if he only asked, but to Jisung he’s just… a friend. Almost a roommate these days, since Jisung spends so much time at Minho’s apartment because he prefers it over to his own and it’s closer to his work. But that’s all they are. Friends. Best friends. Best friends, strolling through Ikea as Jisung starts to plan what kind of bedrooms they’d have at their shared house.
“And of course, little hidden nooks for the kitties!”
Best friends. Minho has come to hate that word recently. It sounds almost… mocking to him.
But Minho doesn’t want to ruin what he has with Jisung right now, so he doesn’t say a word. Only lets Jisung pull him along to try out the beds at one large corner of the store before they proceed to see some more bedrooms and kitchens and bathrooms and all of everything. The speakers somewhere far from them tell them to hurry, fifteen minutes until closing time. There are a few other people in the store hurrying along the hallways. Couples, mostly, at least it seems like so. One mother-daughter duo as well, Minho spots. They nearly get at the end before the stuffed animals catch Jisung’s attention again and he nearly begs Minho to buy him a Djungelskog and Minho nearly gives in but then there’s a clerk telling them that they’re closing soon, so they take finally the steps down to the lower floor. To another maze that they need to get through without buying anything but the lights and the decorations.
Which is why Minho hooks his arm around Jisung’s and begins to pull him along. Jisung laughs, all carefree and hearty and it makes Minho’s head spin again and he’s so close to him and perhaps this was a mistake, but then Jisung tightens his hold of Minho’s arm and it’s not a mistake. They hurry through the hallways, past kitchen utensils and curtains and pillows and sheets and more sheets and shelves upon shelves and all that, and soon there’s the light department! So many lights! They hurt Minho’s eyes, so instead he focuses on Jisung’s eyes and they don’t hurt at all. Jisung lets go of him and Minho misses his touch immediately, misses the warmth from next to him. He wouldn’t call himself touch-starved, but there’s really no one else that gets as close to him as Jisung. Minho knows the reason - he’s a bit scary, he’s snarky, he hides behind faked grins that he’s a little lonely and craves and yearns and wants because showing those things don’t come naturally to him. And that has earned him a reputation of self-sufficiency, of “he needs no one”, of “he doesn’t like to be touched”. Minho isn’t quite sure where the last one has risen as Minho has never necessarily heeded touch, but… Here he is, clinging to Jisung’s touch like a man starved and the boy doesn’t even notice it.
Or at least Minho hopes he doesn’t notice it.
“I think these would be cute. And these!” Jisung takes a few of the packages, the other string lights are warm yellow and the other ones are green.
“Those change colors, though.” Minho points at the lights that work with a remote.
“Expensive”, Jisung retorts.
“As if it’s your money we’re using”, Minho mumbles, a small grin stretching his lips. Jisung sticks his tongue out at him. Of course Minho is the one paying, he wouldn’t even let Jisung do that.
“Hyunjin would love those colorful ones.”
“Of course he would, those are hideous.”
“Minho!”
“What? Don’t tell me he wouldn’t put those up in his atelier.”
“He has eye for color, he wouldn’t!”
But there’s laughter in Jisung’s eyes and both of them know Minho is only joking.
“Seungmin wouldn’t let him put those in their apartment”, Minho mumbles then and Jisung agrees.
They end up taking the lights Minho suggested as they don’t really know which colors the others want. Minho is the one paying, of course, and he’s pretty certain he’s just going to end up giving the little lights to Jisung as he’s a sucker for all sorts of mood-setting lights and he has his studio full of those. Minho can tell by how he’s feeling when he sets a foot in the studio - if it’s full of blue lights, the boy himself is feeling a little blue, yellow is for happiness or sadness depending on the topic and time of day, and pink is for “fluttering in his chest”, as Jisung refers to it. The lights in his studio have been pink a lot recently. Minho hasn’t dared to ask the reason. He’s not ready to get his heart broken like that just yet.
Once again, arm in arm, they continue their walk through the hallways, past a million bathroom mirrors and Jisung stops to take a selfie in one of them (he doesn’t let go of Minho’s arm), and then they reach the season’s stuff, so, decorations. Minho lets Jisung pick everything he wants, because there’s only a few minutes left and they need to really go before someone yells at them.
It is at the cash register that Minho gets the message, along with everyone else. Phones beep, Minho takes his own from his pocket after he pays for their purchases and Jisung packs them. It’s an emergency alert about the snow storm - it’s so big and strong that the government alerts the citizens to stay off roads and not drive anywhere. Minho shrugs, it can’t really be that bad, can it?
And then he steps out of the double doors leading outside. Or tries to. But there’s so much snow piled in front of them that he nearly falls face first into it, before Jisung has time to pull him back. What the hell?
Then the both of them, along with a few other customers understand the situation - there’s snow at least to their knees and the wind is pushing and pulling it, swirling it in the air so hard Minho can see the flagpoles shaking and wavering across the parking lot. It dawns on him very quickly - he can’t drive in that weather. Nobody can. They’re stuck at the Ikea.
And at the same time as the realization hits Minho, the speakers announce and confirm his train of thought. The voice reverberates through the hallway all mighty and funny and horrible (specifically to Minho): “It seems like the weather outside has gotten so bad during the evening that we advise all of our customers and staff to remain in the store until the storm sets at least a bit. We ask everyone to gather at the restaurant on the second level for further instructions.”
There’s a few heartbeats of stunned silence, and then Jisung bursts into laughter so hard he doubles over.
“I can’t believe this! Are we getting a sleepover at Ikea?” He has to support himself against Minho’s shoulder to stay upright. There’s concerned mumbling along with more laughter around them, both from the employees and the few customers still left at the store.
“What the fuck?” Minho mumbles. How in the hell had it snowed nearly half a meter in one hour? Unbelievable! Damn climate change!
As the instructions stated, they all start walking back to the store past the cash registers. It feels weird. Odd. Minho shouldn’t be walking this way, it feels wrong. A few of the employees, all a little confused, too, lead them through the downstairs hallways back to the stairs leading up. The restaurant is at the end of the showrooms, tugged nicely in one of the corners of the store. There’s a few more employees, as well as someone who seems to be in charge. She tells them all to take a seat at the restaurant, and through the huge windows next to them, Minho can see nothing but white. Everything’s covered in snow. He can’t see the road behind the store, it’s covered in snow, too.
Oh, they’re never getting out of here.
They’re really stuck at Ikea, at least for the night.
“As you all can see through the windows, the weather isn’t exactly pleasant tonight”, the lady in charge speaks up, Minho recognises the voice from the speakers to be hers. More employees gather around, there’s more of them than there are customers. Jisung sits down next to Minho, perhaps way too close, but at the same time not close enough.
“It seems it’s best to stay inside until someone comes to dig us out of the snow tomorrow morning.” There’s a little bit of laughter, some of it unbelieving.
“We’re offering all of you a stay for the night at our store. You may choose any of the showrooms for yourself to sleep in. We’ll be serving some evening snack in two hours, lights go out at eleven unless we lose electricity before that. We’ll start serving breakfast at seven in the morning up until the opening time of the store. For any questions, please don’t hesitate to come to me. I’ll be staying at this restaurant.”
There’s yet another stunned silence before the entire restaurant seems to break into a fit of questions. Minho sits there, turning to Jisung, who at the exact moment as their gazes meet, bursts into laughter again.
“Really! I can’t believe this! This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of as a kid!”
A grin stretches over Minho’s features, too, but there’s a dash of fear mixed in it. Why? He doesn’t know. It’s not like this is the first time he’s going to spend the night with Jisung. And they’re not even probably going to sleep in the same bed, they rarely do these days even if they have done it before,
but Minho is wrong.
Because as Jisung’s laughter dies, he scrambles up again, taking Minho’s arm in his, they leave the restaurant in a hurry and rush through the store before anyone else has time to pick their own beds. Jisung leads Minho through the hallways, past the bathrooms and kitchens and living rooms again, and suddenly they’re in front of the showroom they were eyeing before, the one with the perfect shelves for the cats and a bed for two tugged away in a corner hidden from the eyes of the others.
“This is perfect for us, don’t you think?” Jisung turns to Minho with stars in his eyes as he shucks off his sneakers and jumps into the bed, messing it up.
“This one?” It sounds like a whimper to Minho, but he knows Jisung probably only hears his nonchalant tone that has earned him the reputation as uncaring. It’s wrong, he does care, he cares a little too much sometimes, but in different ways than the others.
“Yeah, it’s so soft!” Jisung flops down, hair a halo around his head on the white pillows. Minho knows he’s smiling. He sits down on the edge of the bed and sets down their shopping bag. Yeah, the bed is soft. Jisung is right about that.
“I should alert the others so that they don’t get worried or think we have died along the way or something”, Minho mumbles as he takes his phone from his pocket and texts a quick message to their group chat about their situation. The first answer he receives from Chan is nearly blood-freezing.
‘Have fun ;)’
Minho swallows and curses Chan in his mind to the lowest circle of hell (which, in this case means the basement of Ikea) and hopes Jisung doesn’t understand the implication of Chan’s message. Jisung, unfortunately, isn’t stupid, and Minho knows that if he has any clue of how Minho truly feels about him, he’ll understand the depth of Chan’s message.
Or perhaps he won’t get it. After all, it’s a running joke among their friend group that Minho and Jisung are married. That message could be just all good fun.
But then the groupchat is flooded with a jealous Hyunjin and around a million questions from Changbin and another jealous Felix who’s whining after the decorations and Minho knows they’re all probably holed up cozy and comfortable on the sofas and picking a movie to watch as they wait for Felix’s cookies to be ready. Chan’s message is buried under all of those messages, Seungmin asks if they’re alright and Jisung answers that they’re more than alright, that he’s dreamed about this ever since he’s been a kid. Minho snorts at him.
“What? Come on, I’m sure you have thought of it, too!”
“Not really. I always wanted to just play hide and seek.”
”Well, now we can!” Jisung grins. Minho laughs at him lightly, sure, they could, but he doesn’t want to bother the workers and other people staying at the store. More messages, Jeongin is jealous, too and asks them to bring him some soda tomorrow when they hopefully get back. Minho promises they will bring him some.
When Minho lifts his gaze again he notices that Jisung is still looking at him, eyes a little dazed.
“What?” Minho croaks at him. Jisung seems to snap back to reality and shakes his head:
“Nothing. I just can’t believe we’re here.”
Minho’s phone buzzes once more, but when he turns to look at it, he notices that
“Ah shit, the lines have gone down”.
Jisung glances at his phone too, and suddenly Minho is a little more scared again. Now he can’t escape his thoughts into the never ending stream of social media feeds, now he’s… stuck. Completely cut off from the rest of the world. With Jisung.
Alone with Jisung.
In a fucking Ikea.
Minho can hear the wind howling outside, the lights flicker again. He hopes the electricity won’t get cut off. Some people pass by their small nook, looking for a place to stay. Employees, Minho can tell that by the color of their shirts as he glances from behind the fake wall.
“Scary”, Jisung mutters under his breath, he’s listening to the storm outside, too.
“What do we do now?” He asks. Minho shrugs: he has no idea. What are you supposed to do when you’re stuck in an Ikea with a storm outside with a bunch of people?
Luckily, Minho is saved from answering to that question, because one of the employees pops up from behind the wall and asks them to join her and her friends for a few rounds of some board games they have found. Once again Jisung hooks an arm around Minho’s to pull him along, and Minho feels suffocated by that touch.
***
Minho has known Jisung for a long time. They used to be neighbors when they were little, then Jisung moved away and they fell out of touch, only to meet again a few years after that in high school. And now they’re adults. Or well, barely. Minho doesn’t think that he’s really an adult, he’s just… of an age that is considered as an adult but in reality he feels like he’s 16 and 35 at the same time. Everything is new to him, while nothing is really new to him. Except these stupid ass feelings.
Minho hasn’t always had a crush on Jisung, oh no. The feelings have just… slowly developed themselves over time. Minho can’t really pinpoint when they started, they have been simmering underneath his skin for quite some time now. But they have grown stronger. A lot stronger. Minho fears they will burst out at any given moment possible, and at one of those weak moments, after getting drunk at this one party, he had confessed his feelings for Jisung to Chan. Well, maybe Chan had had a hunch at that point already, but now he knows and Minho fears the others know, too.
Why does he fear it so much, then?
He doesn’t want to lose Jisung. He doesn’t want to lose the friendship they have had for so long, he doesn’t want to lose his best friend. He fears losing him. He fears that his feelings could get in the way of their bond and… well, yeah. He fears losing this.
“It’s your turn”, Jisung mutters under his breath and Minho places a card down, as if the touch on his shoulder where Jisung is leaning against him isn’t burning his skin in a way that’s so so sweet and so horrible at the same time.
It hasn’t always been like this. Or has it? No. Minho can remember the time when he still didn’t have a crush on Jisung. He can remember when even the smallest of touches still didn’t set him on fire, when he didn’t drown into those deep deep eyes of his, like right now.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing”, Minho lies, as if he hasn’t been staring at Jisung for a few seconds way too long to be just friends.
The two of them get to know some of the employees they’re playing with, they’re all good fun and everyone seems excited to be at the store since, well, how could you possibly not be excited? Minho is somewhat excited, too. Yeah, he recognises that this is a once in a lifetime-thing and he’s experiencing it with Jisung, but still… He’s here with Jisung. With no distractions. And he can’t keep his eyes off of him.
The voice from the speakers stops their game as one of the employees is winning. The lady announces that there’s some food for everyone, free of charge of course, and there’s a movie set up at the living room section and everyone can go eat and watch the movie and all that. They end the game quickly and then they walk back to the restaurant, which means they walk through nearly half of the Ikea once again. Minho is pretty sure he’s already walked like 20 kilometers inside the store today.
It is when they are sitting at one of the tables, looking at their reflections from the window beside them and eating that Minho starts to notice the signs in Jisung. Minho knows him by heart, he knows that deep down the boy is a shy introvert and a little bit anxious and he gets overwhelmed easily, and if Minho is overwhelmed by this situation, then so must be Jisung. He’s fidgeting a little, toying with the hem of his shirt, looking outside. He flinches at the louder noises a little, and Minho knows that if this goes on for long enough, Jisung will eventually get irritated, if he isn’t already.
“We don’t need to watch the movie, we can go back to our room if you want”, he mumbles, munching on his sandwich. It tastes good. Of course it does. This is an Ikea. Jisung nods and a smile tugs the corners of his mouth lightly at the mention of ‘their room’.
“I still can’t believe this”, Jisung mutters under
his breath as they walk back through the hallways towards their room. Most of the other people are still at the restaurant or playing games or watching the movie, so Minho and Jisung are walking alone. Arm in arm. Because that’s how it seems to go today.
“Mmhm, me neither”, Minho hums. It's almost as if someone has put a spell over the empty hallways of the store. It’s haunting. Apocalyptic, almost. The lights are still too bright, they hurt Minho’s eyes. It’s quiet, very much eerily so. The speakers don’t play any music, it’s completely quiet apart from the storm outside. There’s no movement, only Minho and Jisung walking through the endless hallways, past the same showrooms and rows of all things furniture as before. Minho isn’t really sure if he’s experiencing a nightmare or a dream come true.
Their little corner is very calm. It’s very neutral in colors, too, bordering on darker wooden tones. The bed is soft as Minho sits on it, shucking his shoes off and taking his jacket off as well. The bedroom looks like a real bedroom, except there’s no ceiling and Minho can hear the echo of the quiet Ikea around them. The lamps on either side of the bed turn on, the TV opposite to them doesn’t work. (Minho doesn’t really expect it to). The sheets are white, naturally. Cozy. The storm outside makes it even cozier.
Minho gives Jisung his peace, he knows the boy needs it right now. Jisung puts the other one of his earplugs in, plays some game that takes his focus elsewhere, away from the world. He always does that when he gets overwhelmed, it helps him calm down and ground himself again. So Minho lets him do that, sink in to the depths of his mind and focus on his game, because, perhaps a little selfishly, it gives Minho a moment to simply admire him.
Jisung is beautiful. There’s no other way to put it. Ethereal. Minho has watched him from the sidelines as he’s grown from a scrawny boy steadily to a young man, and he’s beautiful. Gorgeous. Has been. Will be. The worn-out brown of his hair seems golden in the yellow lights of the Ikea, it fans over his eyes a little, hangs over his forehead. Minho can’t really see his eyes, but he knows they’re like twinkling little stars, so full of wonder and emotion that it gets a little hard to breathe sometimes for Minho as he stares into them. Jisung has full cheeks, soft to touch, Minho knows it, he’s touched them. But only as a friend.
Jisung’s lower lip juts out a little when he focuses on something, like right now. Minho wouldn’t mind kissing the pout off of his face, but he can’t do that. Instead he tears his eyes away from Jisung; but a moment too late. Jisung has caught him, caught him staring.
“What?” he mumbles.
“There’s some butter in the corner of your mouth”, Minho lies. Lying comes easy to him these days. Jisung wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and returns to his game. Messy. It breaks a small spell of perfection, but Minho doesn’t mind. He’s never expected perfection, not from anyone but himself.
Minho scoots back on the bed, settles next to Jisung. He plays with his phone, or pretends to, but with the internet connection coming and going every five minutes it isn’t exactly easy. He just is. Exists. Next to Jisung. He enjoys it, the quiet in between them.
Moments pass in silence, Minho can hear the storm outside and the faint music from Jisung’s earbuds. He never wears them both when Minho is around, only one of them in case Minho has something to say to him. Minho can’t make out what song he is currently playing, or is it just the sounds from the game. Whatever it is, it adds to the ambience around them, it somehow makes it feel even more real that they are in an Ikea, sitting in some corner of it, hidden away from everything else. It’s surreal. Minho feels very… alone, in a way.
“What?” Jisung asks again, pulling his earbud off. Minho has been caught staring again, he wants to smack himself in the face.
“N-nothing.” He hopes Jisung won’t catch his stutter, the slight hitch in his breath.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been staring at me all oddly this entire evening.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Minho.”
“Jisung.”
“Look, I know you don’t like Ikeas.” Jisung reaches for Minho’s hand, squeezes it a little in his hold. “But we’ll get away tomorrow morning, I’m sure of that. The others will come save us from the snow if nothing else.”
“Y-yeah.” Because that’s Minho’s biggest problem, and not the hand holding his own. Jisung lets go of him, but doesn’t put his earbuds back in.
Minho is being obvious, and he’s glad Jisung is so damn oblivious to all things feelings, so he can still get away with little white lies. He wonders briefly how long he can keep on doing this.
Why does this all feel so… different? This isn’t the first time Minho is spending time on the same bed with Jisung. Hell, they’ve spent a lot of time together recently. Or like, for the past few years. So why is this different? Why does it feel so much more awkward? So much more intimate? Why does Minho feel like he’s about to burst?
“You’ve been acting weird recently”, Jisung mutters quietly. He’s no longer playing his game.
“I have?” Minho asks and swallows thickly. He’s looking everywhere except at Jisung now. Perhaps Jisung isn’t as oblivious as Minho has thought him to be. It sends a spark of fear down Minho’s spine.
“You’re more distant. Is something up? Have I done something wrong?”
Yeah, you have made me fall in love with you. Minho doesn’t say it out loud.
“No, I- It’s nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” Lies, lies, lies. Everything is wrong. Jisung is too close and too far. They’re just friends. Only friends. Minho doesn’t want to lose him. Jisung chews lightly on his lower lip, he does that when he’s feeling nervous. Minho hates that Jisung feels nervous because of him.
“Okay.”
Minho knows Jisung doesn’t believe him. “Good”, and the boy scoots a little closer. Their legs are touching, the side of Minho’s thigh is burning. This is normal to Jisung. It makes Minho want to cry and laugh at the same time.
There they sit. Minho pretends it’s alright and Jisung doesn’t, because he doesn’t need to pretend. He plays with his phone again. Minho stares at the fake painting above the shelf opposite to them, tries to seem like he’s in his thoughts. The intercom announces that the lights will be off in fifteen minutes, the movie must have ended as Minho can hear a few people walking and talking past them. He knows there isn’t anyone staying too close to them. Or perhaps it’s for the worse.
Jisung presses his head against Minho’s shoulder and sighs.
“You don’t usually let me do this.”
“Mhm?” Presented as a question, but it’s more of a whimper.
“You don’t like people this close to you. What’s really going on, Minho?”
“I- I‘ve never said I don’t like people this close to me.”
“You avoid people touching you. Don’t try to tell me you don’t, we have talked about this before. Why do you let me get so close?”
“Because I know you’re a touchy one?” Minho tries, even if the truth is drumming against his skull and begging to be let out.
“Minho.”
“Jisung.”
“Look at me.” Phrased as an order even if Minho knows it’s a request. Jisung knows his boundaries, even if he’s currently pushing them a little.
So Minho looks at him. Looks into those starry eyes, sees entire galaxies in them. Jisung is studying him, his lower lip is jutting out, just a little, and Minho understands he’s examining him, focusing on him.
He knows.
He knows, he’s picked up the pieces, he knows. That thought settles into Minho’s mind and sends him spiraling. Minho realizes Jisung has been pushing his boundaries for quite some time now, mostly with his touches, gazes, the pink lights, the little notes on the fridge door that he refers to as love letters when in reality they’re just notes that say that Minho’s running out of eggs. Love letters. Pink lights in his work room. Touching Minho, trying to see if Minho flees from the touch like he does with everyone else.
“Can I try something?” Jisung asks.
Minho nods, he doesn’t trust his voice. Jisung leans in and something in Minho’s mind seems to finally lock into place.
Minho’s eyes flutter shut as Jisung presses his lips against his own. The barrier in him breaks and Minho is unable to do anything about it. Jisung’s lips are soft and warm and plush in just the right way, and they fit against Minho’s so, so wonderfully, just like he’s let himself imagine in the darkest hours of the many nights spent agonizing over the fact that he’s in love with his best friend. Jisung tangles a hand in Minho’s shirt, pulling him just a tiny bit closer as Minho answers to the kiss. Minho finds it so easy, easier than anything else today to take hold of Jisung’s jaw, tilt his head just a little to deepen the kiss. It earns him a whimper from Jisung and Minho feels like he’s turning into putty, and he doesn’t ever want to leave this moment.
So when Jisung starts to pull back, just a little, the fear in Minho kicks in and he kisses Jisung again, hopes his desperation pours into the kiss and Jisung won’t hate him for what he’s become, for what he’s feeling for him when he’s not supposed to.
“Minho”, Jisung wheezes, just a little as he finally pulls back, away from Minho. Minho keeps his eyes shut and only mumbles:
“I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what?”
The truth squeezes Minho’s throat and he’s unable to say it out loud. Jisung takes a hold of his cheeks, gentle and soft and Minho has to open his eyes to look at him, savour this moment if it’s going to be their last.
“Do you think I don’t like you back? Have you become stupid, Lee Minho?”
Jisung’s eyes are full of stars and endearment and fondness that Minho feels like drowning until his words settle into his brain. Do you think I don’t like you back?
“H-how long…?” Minho asks, instead of just confessing because he’s exactly as Jisung has stated, become stupid.
“A little while. Chan may have let me in on a half of a secret and I figured the rest myself”, Jisung chuckles. He’s close, very close, and even if Minho knows he should be cursing Chan in his mind for betraying his trust, he doesn’t have the brain space to do that right in this moment.
When Minho doesn’t say anything, when he doesn’t answer, the look in Jisung’s eyes turns a little nervous. He’s wondering if he’s crossing the line, if he’s picked up the wrong pieces, isn’t he? So Minho leans in again, presses a kiss on Jisung’s lips to take the nervousness away. He doesn’t have the words. He’s not good with words. But he has to let Jisung know, he has to confirm his thoughts because he knows Jisung and he knows he’s an overthinker.
“Chan’s right”, Minho mumbles against Jisung’s lips, eyes shut, voice barely a whisper because this information isn’t meant for anyone else in this world but Jisung. “He’s right. I do like you.”
“Good”, Jisung whispers and lets out a light laugh. “Because I sort of like you too.”
It is at that moment that the lights go out and Jisung yelps, presses against Minho as he gets scared. Then he bursts into laughter, that laughter seeps into Minho’s heart, too and soon he’s laughing as well as the warmth spreads all around them, breaking the spell of desperation. Minho keeps his hold of Jisung, his other arm around his waist to keep him safe from the darkness that is very soon gone as Jisung lights up the lamp on the bedside table.
Jisung presses his forehead against Minho’s shoulder, breathes in deep as the laughter settles. Minho tightens his hold of him, turning it into a hug. This is right. This is correct, his skin isn’t burning anymore, this feels alright, no, it feels good, like something has settled inside of him. This is how he’s supposed to feel with Jisung around. With his best friend around.
“Personally I think we should visit Ikeas more often if this is what they lead to”, Jisung mutters.
“And here I was thinking I’ll never have to visit this place again now that I have you”, Minho mumbles back, burying his face in Jisung’s neck just because he’s wanted to do so for so long. Jisung giggles at the feeling.
“But we’ll have to furnish our future home, Minho! What better place to start than an Ikea?” he whines and Minho can hear the laughter in his voice.
“For every Ikea visit I’ll have to do from now on will earn myself at least fifty kisses.” It’s a request and a confession. A request for more kisses, and a confession that Minho likes them, that he likes the feel, that he likes Jisung and his touches.
“Fine. How about I give you your payment now, then, hm? Fifty kisses? How about I make it a hundred since we have the entire night ahead of us?”
“Jisung, we are in a public-“
But Minho doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because he’s melting against Jisung’s lips once again.
***
Minho groans as he gets up from behind the wheel. They had got out of the Ikea after breakfast as the roads had finally been cleared of snow and Minho had got his car dug up from the piles of white that had covered it overnight. The storm had subsided and now the day was bright as ever, a signal of cold weather ahead.
They had discussed a few things during the night (and barely slept), such as that they were now boyfriends (and best friends) and that Minho wasn’t going to kill Chan. Minho had got himself at least 150 kisses for that and now he was happy, and no longer annoyed as he had got out of the hellhole that is Ikea. Okay, perhaps he could admit that he did not hate Ikeas as much as he had used to, but he still greatly disliked them.
“I’m nervous”, Jisung confesses as they approach the stairs leading to the house. The others are waiting for them inside, or so Minho thinks as the door bursts open and very soon they have their arms full of Felix.
“I was so worried for you, why haven’t you answered any texts since last night!” He wails as he hugs Jisung. Minho says nothing, doesn’t tell the truth that he’s been too busy kissing Jisung that he hasn’t had the time nor attention span to answer any texts.. Changbin follows right after Felix to take the shopping bag from Minho, he’a wearing a matching sweater with his boyfriend. Adorable. For a horrified second Minho wonders if he’s going to have to wear one of those things next year, too.
“Don’t be, it’s not like all too many things have changed”, Minho whispers to Jisung as Felix lets go of the both of them. He’s right, not all that many things have changed. They’re still best friends. And now boyfriends, too. Who like each other. And that’s still a whole lot to grasp to Minho who has tried to hide those feelings for so long.
They finally get inside the house that is decorated to the brim (Minho doesn’t understand why they had to bring even more decorations with them). Chan is waiting for them at the hallway, and so is seemingly everyone else. There’s a knowing grin on his face as he sees Minho help the jacket off of Jisung.
“How was it? Was it scary?”
“What did you do there?”
“Did you have an enormous pillow fight? Did you play hide and seek?”
“Are you alright? How was it?”
“I’m so jealous!”
“There’s a mistletoe above us.”
Jisung’s whisper is a lot louder to Minho than his other friends’ voices. Minho glances up. There sure is a mistletoe above them. Oh, those bastards definitely planned this. Luckily, Minho and Jisung had talked about this, too, how are they going to tell their friends about this whole thing?
So first Minho looks Chan right in the eyes before he gently cradles Jisung’s head in his hands and presses a firm kiss to his lips. One of many to come. He can not wait to get alone with Jisung in the evening again and kiss him silly just like last night. There’s a few gasps around them, as well as a groan and a “finally!” yelled with Jeongin’s voice.
“It went well. We had fun”, Minho answers as he lets go of Jisung a moment later. Then he locks his eyes with Chan’s:
“You’re damn lucky Jisung made me promise him I won’t kill you. Otherwise you would be a dead man, Christopher Bang.”
There’s laughter around them and Minho feels an arm around his waist, before Jisung kisses him once again.
Fine. Ikeas aren’t so bad. And maybe Chan deserves to live. And perhaps Minho is a sucker for Jisung.
And maybe, just maybe Minho will endure a few more Ikea trips in the future, just for his boyfriend’s sake.