Work Text:
Han Jisung wasn’t anticipating this flight to be fun. After a week abroad, working his ass off in LA, an almost fourteen hour flight was not on the top of his bucket list. But the prospect of soon being done with all of this madness, back home in Seoul….Well. That’s not so bad.
Jisung’s been sitting in this airport for far too long now, in his personal opinion. His original flight had been delayed by hours, and he was just lucky enough to be offered a seat on a different flight that left a little earlier. But he had been in limbo for a while, stuck in the airport while they figured all that out, and the chatter of all the other people way past pissing him off. Not to mention, there’s the sound of the artificial waterfall with seemingly no purpose, the blenders at the Starbucks kiosk, the PA system announcing boarding… It’s enough to drive anyone insane. He would use his wireless headphones, but of course they’re dead. Even if they weren’t, they’d only give him more of a headache, and with exhaustion threatening to make him pass out, he didn’t need any more problems. He finally had elected to just curl up further in the boarding gate chair he managed to snag a little over an hour ago, using his backpack as a pillow. Just a little longer.
Jisung sighs. After finally boarding, it’s time to lift his suitcase to put it in the overhead compartment, and it always reminds him of the time he hit that businessman in the head a couple years ago. A dark and embarrassing memory like that really sticks with a person.
Jisung’s been known to make many of these embarrassing memories. If you ask anybody who knows him from back in his school days, he’s always been a slightly awkward kid. Not for lack of trying to be more normal, but he is who he is. He’s come to accept that, now that it’s been a couple years since he graduated high school and really started focusing on his career as a producer. As a producer, his individuality is infinitely more valuable than it had been back in high school.
With that career choice came a lot of travel. He’s always having to meet with other people in the field to stay relevant and improve his tracks. Not that Jisung inherently hates traveling or anything! It’s nice to be cultured or whatever, but it just so happens that yet another of Jisung’s slightly embarrassing qualities happens to be an all encompassing fear of heights. Jisung sighs as he sits down in the aisle seat, as far away from the window as possible, even if there’s only two seats in the row. He doesn’t even bother to check his ticket to see if that’s his actual seat. He’s done this enough times now to know that if you sit with enough confidence or ask with enough begging in your eyes, most people will just give you the damn seat. Most normal people prefer sitting by the window anyway. Good for them.
As he waits for the rest of the passengers to board, Jisung can’t help but think about another pressing issue when it comes to traveling. The jet lag is really starting to take a toll on his already terrible sleep schedule. He can already feel his eyelids starting to flutter closed, just in the couple minutes he’s been sitting in one place.
That is, until he can feel someone standing over him, assumedly trying to slide into the seat next to him. And when he opens his eyes, he almost has to shake himself back into coherent thought. Because damn, that is a beautiful man.
Minho doesn’t think much as he shuffles down the aisle towards his row, heavy carry-on suitcase in tow. He heads towards his designated seat with only one focus, and that’s to get back home to his cats and his preferred environment, or basically anywhere other than LA. Amazing dance studios aside, there is nothing good about the American city, in his personal opinion. He does become quickly distracted from this one track thought process though when he stops in front of his row glances down to the face of his row mate. He can’t help but freeze for a second, ticket still held up in the air in his hand.
This guy is cute. Seemingly sleeping, he looks to be around Minho’s age, probably younger, with his cushiony cheeks and fluffy hair. Minho kind of wants to pinch his face, in a ‘you’re so cute’ way,
but quickly brushes those thoughts off as he remembers that he needs to sit down, and more importantly, that he’s supposed to have the aisle seat the sleeping guy is sitting in.
The man’s eyes open, undoubtedly feeling Minho’s heavy stare. He looks more alert than Minho would’ve thought, he probably wasn’t fully asleep in the first place. Minho attempts to use the manners his mom’s always lecturing him about. He flashes him a friendly smile along with a gentle, “Hey.”
What he gets in return is so much better, he feels almost lucky to get to see it. The little smile that crosses cute-guys face is about the most adorable thing Minho’s ever seen. He almost feels guilty thinking that, knowing that his friend Jeongin back home would be offended. Jeongin’s held that title, begrudgingly, ever since Minho basically adopted him back in high school. But Minho can’t help it. The guy in front of him tugged at his heart strings against his will.
But that’s not what’s important right now. He needs that aisle seat, and that was the sole reason he even spoke to the other in the first place. Most people know that proper airplane etiquette is to blatantly ignore those sitting next to you, even with the less than an inch between your bodies, and Minho specifically hates talking to strangers, or most people in general.
But the one thing he hates even more is heights. Nothing in this world could convince him to sit next to an open window for the next 13 hours.
“I think you’re in my seat.”
The smile instantly drops off Jisung’s face. This guy’s actually pretty intimidating, what with his statuesque face and intense eyes. Not a good combination for Jisung’s ever present anxiety with strangers, but he can’t back down. He’d rather suffer through the shame of asking him for a favor than the alternative.
“Oh,” he fakes a laugh. “Do you mind if I stay in the aisle seat? I’m not a big fan of the window,” he ends by shooting the other a fake smile, hoping to win him over with the cuteness he’s been told he has.
Cute, but not cute enough. “Sorry kid.” Minho doesn’t mean to be so condescending but… come on. It’s his seat, he payed for it, move the fuck over.
Kid, huh? Jisung quickly decides that this guy is a jackass, and he’s not gonna be bulldozed by him. He maintains their eye contact, not shying away even though his hands may or may not be shaking where they’re hidden in his hoodie pocket. But he doesn’t really have any other arguments he can use, other than the truth.
“Dude, I’m scared of heights. You’re really gonna make me take the window seat?”
The other’s eyes are all squinted and intense, his tone aggressive. Minho assumes he’s trying to be intimidating, but with his cute baby face and also with what he just admitted, it doesn’t come off as strong as he would probably hope. He’s kind of adorable when he’s angry, in an obnoxious way. Minho can’t wait to piss him off more.
“Why do you think I want the aisle? I am too! Now get out of my seat and move over!”
“So fucking rude,” Jisung mutters, finding himself sitting in the window seat after finally losing his staring contest with the other man. He goes to immediately close the window, but is stopped by a tiny hand reaching back from the seat in front of him.
“I want the window open!” Of course there has to be some little kid in the seat that shares his window. Nothing can ever be easy for Han Jisung.
He locks eyes with the little boy looking back at him.
“Hey, could I please close it? It’s dark anyway, you can’t see anything,” Jisung tries a smile, already putting his hand up to pull the shade down.
His hand is smacked away by the boy, reaching his whole arm between the crack of his seat and the plane wall. Jisung sits dumbstruck for a second. Where are this kid’s parents?
“No, I want it open!”
“Kid-“ Jisung shakes his head, becoming more and more irritated by the second.
Even more so when he hears his obnoxious row mate muttering, “How immature. You’re really gonna fight with an 8 year old?”
Jisung turns to face him, looking about as pissed as Minho’s cats when he gets home hours later than expected.
“Don’t even start with me, asshole.”
Minho can’t help but laugh a little, “Now you’re cursing in front of him too? You’re such a brat.”
“Brat?! Mind your own business you-“
The other keeps laughing, “Mind my business? Never mind, it makes sense now, you’re the 8 year old. Over here throwing a fit and everything.”
Jisung opens his mouth to retaliate, flabbergasted, but is interrupted by the loudspeaker as the pilot says they’ll be taking off soon.
What-fucking-ever. Jisung turns away with a huff. The stupid kid can keep his window open, see if Jisung cares. And the jerk next to him can keep that smug look on his face, too.
As the plane starts moving down the runway, he finds himself stewing in his anger, digging his clenched fists into the fabric of his jeans. He glances out the window at the airport, looking at all workers in reflective vests and airport vehicles. Lucky ducks, Jisung can’t help but think. They get to stay on solid ground. More importantly, they don’t have to sit next to the idiot a couple inches from him. He can’t wait til this plane gets up in the air and moving. The sooner they get started, the sooner it’ll be over and he won’t ever have to see the obnoxiously handsome and obviously holier-than-thou type guy in the aisle seat ever again.
After getting glared at by his row mate for about 20 minutes as Jisung anxiously taps his foot, he decides to at least try and relax. Most plane accidents happen in the first 30 seconds anyway, right? That might be a fake fact he heard on a podcast, but he’s going to choose to believe it. He settles more in his seat, pulling his hoodie sleeve over his left hand so he can lean his head on it, elbow on the arm rest closest to the window. Even though he doesn’t want to fall asleep, he knows it’s a possibility, since exhaustion’s been slowly creeping up on him again, and he wants to avoid getting in his row mate’s space as much as possible. He doesn’t need that humiliation.
Obviously, the universe doesn’t think the same thing.
Minho is ready to pull out his phone and Kart Rider some hours away. Even with his sore legs from days and days of intense dance training, these seats are actually pretty comfortable. His only issue is the aura of anxiety coming from next to him. Minho admits he feels a little bad, he definitely understands having a fear of heights. He might’ve even been nicer to him had he not been a complete, as he said earlier, brat.
But now the brat in question seems to be having an incessant battle against himself, falling asleep over and over again and then shaking himself back awake. Minho witnesses his head drop like a weight as he falls asleep, then raise back up alert again, but only briefly. It leaves Minho to wonder why the other man is trying so hard to keep himself awake. It would probably benefit him to sleep through the whole flight. But then again, it’s none of his business.
It’s hard to take his eyes off him though. He does make for a nice view, pretty side profile and all. Minho finds he much prefers him when he’s not talking, so he can just admire his squirrel-like cheeks in peace. There’s some good mildly insulting nickname opportunities there…
But staring is creepy, and Minho acknowledges that. He needs to focus on Kart Rider again. He did promise Hyunjin he’d come back with a much higher ranking.
Truth be told, Jisung has to keep himself awake. With all the time zones they’re about to go through, he doesn’t want to royally fuck up his sleep schedule. He’s got classes tomorrow, and after a week of skipping them to pursue other ‘less important’ nonacademic endeavors, it’s vital he’s there to grovel to his professors for extensions. But he’s watched enough weird psychology videos on YouTube to know that you can’t control the sleep inducing neurons in your head. Sometimes, they choose for you.
The choice of trying to not focus on his creatively named Squirrel cutie is taken away from Minho a couple minutes later when he feels a sudden weight on his left shoulder. Oh. This is happening now. Minho takes a deep breath. He never thought he’d be caught in a rom com situation such as this one, but isn’t quite complaining. Despite the personality of the boy using him as a pillow, he is kind of adorable. The hoodie he’s wearing is super soft, and up against his own makes for a very comfortable half-cuddle situation. But… should he wake him up? Maybe Squirrel cutie wouldn’t want to be sleeping on a stranger. More so than that, last time they actually spoke to each other, it seemed like the other kind of wanted to punch him in the face.
Is this considered taking advantage of him, letting him sleep on him, just because he thinks he’s cute? Hmm. Well, it’s better to just let him sleep than to push him off, Minho reasons. He turns his head to look at the other’s face for a quick second, not expecting to be met with open eyes as he startles awake.
After a moment of eerie silence, staring at the breathtaking man he fell asleep on, Jisung shuffles as far away as possible, leaning against the wall and begins apologizing profusely.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry man! I didn’t realize- That’s so embarrassing…” Minho can see the embarrassment taking over his whole face, plush cheeks flushed and eyes directed downward.
Jisung can barely believe himself. Falling asleep on the hot guy next to him? The guy he just got finished arguing with like 30 minutes ago? He glances back up at his seatmate, finding him looking at Jisung with what almost looks like… fondness? That can’t be right. Their eye contact spans for a couple seconds, almost studying each other. Jisung can’t help but find the other gorgeous, having no way of knowing that he might be thinking something similar.
Minho, mildly amused by the other’s new bashful personality, ends their silence.
“No worries,” his pretty smile spreading to his cheeks, “You’re fine.”
If possible, Jisung blushes harder. How can someone be so good looking? And why is he being nice now? This flight could end up being more interesting than expected.
“Now that you’re done arguing with me, if you want to lean on me, you can,” Minho finishes, laughing a little bit. But he means it. Minho’s confused with himself. Why does he mean it? He normally hates strangers, especially those who pick fights with him immediately after meeting him.
Jisung looks away towards the window, yet again more embarrassed than before. His miniature nap has given him enough clarity to understand how dumb he was being earlier. The other could’ve been a little less rude and condescending too, but at least now he’s making the overture.
Jisung lifts a hand to bury in the back of his own hair, “No, I couldn’t. Sorry again, I just… Work, you know. Haven’t been sleeping,” he lets out a self depreciating chuckle. He gets slightly quieter, “And I’m- I’m sorry I was being so obnoxious earlier…”
Minho finds himself more intrigued than ever. He doesn’t look nearly old enough to have a soul sucking desk job yet. And him apologizing so easily makes Minho think that maybe there’s a lot more to him than his immediately visible feisty side.
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m sorry too. I told you, I’m also scared of heights,” he risks a glance out the window at all the stars and clouds. Pretty, but terrifying. “I guess it just brings out the worst in people,” Minho trails off, looking back down at his lap.
“I guess.”
“But you’re traveling for work right now?” Minho manages to get out. It goes against every fiber of his being to be the first to initiate conversation, but he’s already come to accept that he's invested in getting to know the man next to him for whatever reason. He’s just interesting to Minho. Going against his own generally standoffish disposition might be worth taking this opportunity to talk to him.
Fuck. It’s not that Jisung doesn’t want to talk to the other, but.. he’s nervous. They already had a very interesting meeting, and now he has to try and show a different side of himself. He quickly reminds himself that they’ll likely never see each other again, so he shouldn’t care about what the other thinks of him. He should just put himself out there. The other man is so pretty, and the more he talks to him, the more genuine he seems. Jisung might as well see if he can make a miracle occur and keep his attention for at least a little while.
“Yeah, I’m actually a producer,” Jisung responds with a little laugh, “You wouldn’t know anything I’ve done yet, but hopefully you will eventually.”
Minho can’t help but smile fondly at that. He loves a man with ambition, and something is telling him that- whatever his name is- is really talented. It’s something about his personality, and the way he fought so valiantly for the aisle seat earlier. But Minho’s finally realizing that he doesn’t know his acquaintance’s name.
“Huh. Definitely not what I expected, but that’s actually really cool. I actually know a couple producers because I’m a dancer.”
Jisung physically cannot stop the huge smile that takes over his face. A fucking dancer. Please stop being so perfect, my heart is fragile and I might fall in love with you. It’s always nice to meet other people in the arts and entertainment world. Jisung’s had about enough of all the intellectuals and idiots, not mutually exclusive categories, at his college.
“Oh, and we’re kind of past this point already, but what’s your name?” Minho asks, a laugh in his voice. That’s a noise Jisung is starting to become a fan of. “I’m Lee Minho. I assume you’re younger than me? I was born in ’98.”
“Han Jisung. And yeah, 2000 for me.”
“Hmm, so I’m your hyung!” The older asserts, looking smugly pleased with this development.
“That’s-” He sputters, face aflame instantaneously.
“Jisungie,” Minho says with faux sternness, “Now you’re embarrassed to talk to me casually?”
Jisung sighs. He’s right, of course. “Okay… hyung.”
He doesn’t expect it to come out as easily as it does. The urge to fan his cheeks and crawl into a hole to die of embarrassment slowly dissipates. Jisung can almost forget about the loud airplane noises, the chatter around them, the stuffy air in the cabin, everything. Just looking at who he now knows as Minho’s pleased smile, it all goes away.
Soon enough, an hour or two of their flight have also gone away as they find themselves in the midst of a very animated conversation.
“So you never even thought about being an idol?”
“Of course I did,” Minho responds, obviously amused, “Didn’t you? That’s the first thing people recommend when they find out you can dance, sing or produce. I just didn’t think my personality would lend itself very well to fanservice.”
Jisung smacks him lightly on the arm, shaking his head with a smile. “I disagree, hyung! You’re perfectly personable. Funny, pretty, talented. Your ‘personality’ wouldn’t give you any problems as an idol. At the worst, your biggest problem would be being too popular.” He finishes by shaking his head in dramatic exasperation, “You know that visuals get all the attention.”
“You flatter me,” Minho says with a grin, waving his hand in Jisung’s direction. “But for real, if anyone would be good as an idol, it would be you. I can already see you on variety shows making yourself look like an idiot. And people would love it, cuz you’re cute.”
“Haha, very funny,” Jisung puffs out his cheeks, blushing and very blatantly trying to ignore the comment about him being cute. “You say that, but you’ve never seen me dance. I’ll have to show you sometime, then you’ll get some real entertainment.”
Minho only smiles at him, fondness filling his sparkly almond shaped eyes.
“I’ll look forward to it.” And he will. Minho can’t help but look forward to seeing Jisung a lot in the future. They live in the same city, and they definitely have enough in common to be friends. It’s honestly kind of weird. How did this even happen?
“You know it’s actually really wild that we met each other. What are the chances?”
Jisung hums in response, looking stoic for the first time in a while. He picks at his cuticles absentmindedly as he adds, “And it’s actually even wilder because my original flight got delayed and I switched to this one last minute.”
As much as that actually makes Minho feel a little tingly, just thinking about coincidences that may or may not have been designed by the universe, he can’t help but laugh it off. It’s just in his nature.
“Aren’t you so glad you did and got to meet me?” He pushes into Jisung’s personal space a little bit, bringing their faces closer together as he presses into his side.
“Hmm… I don’t know,” Jisung responds, tilting his head coyly and pushing back against Minho’s weight, “You’ve been kinda mean to me, so~”
That earns him a smack to the arm.
It’s weird how much they seem to just…click. They talk about topic after topic, from work to family and friends, to things as mundane as food and movie preferences. Anything to learn more about the other, caught up in an almost frenzy-like conversation, because they’ve never met someone else who they could so easily understand. So much so that being in their own bubble of giggles and cheek-hurting smiles, they forget slightly that the other passengers, the few that are still awake that is, can also hear them. The bubble kind of gets popped when the old lady across the aisle shushes them with a stern look on her face.
They both freeze. It feels like being scolded by your own grandmother as a child all over again. Then Jisung unthinkingly buries his face in Minho’s hoodie-cushioned shoulder, and they both can’t help but laugh again, trying their best to keep it down to no avail. After a few moments of embarrassed laughter induced hysteria, Jisung lifts his head and finds himself immediately affronted by Minho’s piercing and heart fluttering eye contact. And in that moment, looking into the eyes of the boy he’s gotten to know so quickly in the past less than two hours, Minho can’t help but think…Fuck. I’ve made a mistake. I think I’m in love with him.
Jisung on the other hand, normally in a constant state of gay panic, for once reminds himself to breathe. This is the moment to calm down and do whatever the fuck he wants. Because Minho is so pretty. And he’s comfortable with him, ridiculously comfortable. Yet he makes Jisung’s heart flutter, makes him feel like he wants to do something crazy. And this is a weird moment in a liminal space that didn’t feel real to start with, so it almost feels like nothing he does here will affect him in the real world anyway. There’s not a lot of risk.
But this is still Han Jisung. So maybe not just yet. Maybe in baby steps.
Lee Minho is Lee Minho. Self assured as always, he confirms to himself the tiny thought that crossed his mind as soon as he saw Jisung smile the first time. He felt it again when Jisung explained how he had switched his flight. This has to be fate. Right?
Minho’s been around the sun a couple times now. Had a couple feelings, here and there. But these feelings, these crazy, ridiculous, too fast feelings he has for Jisung. They’re like nothing he’s ever felt before. Being the opportunist he is, he won’t let a second go to waste. He breaks their awe-filled eye contact, looks down, and without taking even a second to talk himself out of it, laces their fingers together.
Turns out there was no reason to fear anyway, because when he looks back up to Jisung, he’s already turned his head slightly away in order to hide his uncontainable smile and heavy blush. Jisung slowly turns his head back, once his face has cooled down. It heats right back up when he’s met by Minho’s blinding smile, so happy to see his effect on Jisung.
“So Hannie~,” Minho almost purrs, promptly making Jisung want to melt into his seat, “Tell me more about you.”
Jisung focuses his attention on playing with Minho’s fingers, instead of his shit-eating grin. “I just told you a bunch,” he teases, “What more do you want to know?”
Minho reaches over with his free hand to lift Jisung’s chin with a finger, having way too much fun admiring Jisung’s blushing face if the gleam in his eye is any indicator. “Everything.”
Jisung giggles out a “Smooth.” He’s finally getting used to the other’s blatant flirting. Reveling in it, actually. It makes him feel like maybe Minho is feeling the same strangely strong feelings he is.
“I’m serious,” Minho says, ever present smile still causing his eyes to crinkle. He rubs his thumb gently along the back of Jisung’s hand. “I wanna know the things no one else knows. I wanna know you, Jisungie.”
The younger just smiles at him, stars in his eyes. “Hmm. Alright. Let’s see, what dirt can I dig up from my dark past,” the stars quickly being replaced with a mischievous glint as the little devil that was high school Jisung is resurrected. They get lost in another conversation, finally not having to worry about their old lady neighbor, as she seems to have fallen asleep. The fully dimmed cabin lighting lends itself to a certain ambiguous atmosphere that makes them almost forget about the strangeness of their location. As they tune out everything but each other, they subconsciously turn to face each other. Minho lifts the arm rest between them, and Jisung pulls his legs up onto the seat to sit criss-cross facing Minho, who’s turned his whole body in that direction too.
Minho tilts his head to lean against the seat, just staring at the younger. Minho can’t believe he was ever annoyed by Jisung. He’s baffled at how much it feels like they’ve known each other forever, at how fucking gorgeous Jisung is. How funny he is, kind but strong-willed, hilariously shy while also being so passionate once you get him started on a topic he cares about. Perfect. Obviously, Minho knows nobody’s perfect. But still, he doesn’t think you could make anyone much better than Jisung.
“What are you looking at?”
“Your pretty face,” Minho responds with a giggle, grabbing Jisung’s waist to pull him closer.
Jisung lets out a surprised “Hyung!” as Minho lifts Jisung’s left leg to rest it on top of own lap, then resting his hand on Jisung’s thigh.
The younger looks almost shocked at how quickly he finds himself basically in Minho’s lap, almost like he’s not sure how he ended up there.
“You’re so cute, Jisungie.”
At this point, they couldn’t be more pressed together in their seats if they tried. Maybe. The way it feels to be this close to Minho, Jisung thinks he might have to try harder later. With that thought in mind, he can’t utilize his brain to mouth filter quick enough to stop himself from narrating his own thoughts. “I think we might be soulmates.”
If there was any moment to contemplate throwing oneself out of a moving airplane without a chute, this might be it. Jisung instantly opens his mouth to apologize for… his forwardness? Saying what he means? Being so naive that he’s found himself irrevocably in love with a man he just met? But to his happy surprise, he’s met with the glorious sight of Minho finally being the one to blush and smile coyly as he looks away.
Jisung changes his mind. This is no longer a moment of great humiliation, instead the single proudest moment of his life (other than releasing his first EP, he still has some sense of priorities). He, Han Jisung, has made the guy who’s been constantly embarrassing him with blatant flirting and an aggressively handsome face, finally be the one to be embarrassed and shy.
He can’t stop now obviously. So with a cocky smirk, he adds “And you’re really cute too.”
But he should’ve guessed that his luck would run out soon, because Minho seems to have successfully broken himself out of his blushy stupor, enough so that he instantly responds to Jisung’s statement by tickling him on the waist. Jisung tries to stifle his giggles since, you know, they’re on a plane with other people who are trying to sleep. It just happens that Minho’s shoulder is the closest place he can bury his face. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, recovery from the tickling, he turns to bury his nose in Minho’s neck, locating where the scent of his cologne seems to be coming from. He decides that he loves the smell. He loves it on Minho. He loves...Wait a minute. Baby steps, remember?
It is hard to focus on staying rational though, what with Minho’s hands still holding his waist. And the fact that Minho just has to confirm how perfect he is, and how on the same page they are, by whispering into Jisung’s hair, “I think we’re soulmates too.”
Jisung smiles into Minho’s neck, feeling the older stroke his hip before prompting Jisung to get back to their earlier conversation. “You were telling me about Felix and him yelling at your physics prof?”
They sit wrapped up together for another hour or so, Minho never faltering in his holding of Jisung by the hips, leaving the younger no choice but to gesture with his hands in the tiny space between their torsos. No one has to know if his hands just end up drawing little shapes on Minho’s chest, or resting on his shoulders. Minho tells him about Gimpo, about his young parents, and his cat siblings. Jisung can’t help but find Minho’s duality so fascinating. The badass, almost intimidating dancer in comparison to the soft, cat-loving cutie that loves to hang around at home and cook with his mom. Jisung finds himself wishing he could witness that himself someday, lost in a daydream about Minho taking him to his childhood home. He doesn’t get to go home much, Jisung’s own parents living in Malaysia along with his older brother who he’s never really been that close to. Lucky for him, back in Seoul, he has his best friends. Felix, Chan, and Changbin have been like his found family since the beginning.
Jisung tells him how much it meant to him to go to college and have people to rely on so quickly. For some reason, that makes Minho really happy. He keeps asking more about them, wanting to know everything he can about the people that made Jisung feel so comfortable.
Minho reminds him of that feeling, encompasses that feeling. The feeling of meeting someone and knowing instantly that in some way, they’re yours. That they’re going to be somebody to you. Jisung kind of wants Minho to be his everything. Wants to meet his family, be a part of the family he tells people about.
“You’re all distracted, baby.” Jisung blinks back into reality at the sound of the other’s voice. “I know you’re tired. You wanna watch a movie? You can pick something you’ve already seen and just rest a little bit.”
As sweet as the offer is, Jisung is still stuck on one of the earlier words. “Baby?”
Minho chuckles, brushing his thumb over Jisung’s cheek, right under his eye. “Yeah. Baby. It’s fitting for you.”
Jisung lightly hits his fist on Minho’s chest, “I’m not sure if I should be offended by that comparison.” He pushes Minho to get him to sit normally in his seat, facing the little screen on the back of the seat in front of him. “But I will elect to accept it, because you’re right. I am so fucking tired, baby.”
Grabbing both of Jisung’s legs to pull them across his own lap with a little smirk, Minho mumbles, “Then c’mere.”
Neither of them are generally this cuddly, but for some reason with each other, they want to be as close as they physically can be. It’s like the only way they can channel their feelings into actions is by almost trying to crawl into each other’s skin. A gentle weight is added onto Minho’s chest as Jisung rests his head on it, caring just enough about the movie to try and watch it out of the corner of his eye. As he seems to love doing, the older wraps an arm around his waist, his hand taking its newly designated spot on Jisung’s hip.
The air conditioner hums, the engines are anything but quiet, and the movie continues to chatter on in the background. Yet for some reason, Jisung’s mind has never been more quiet. For once in his life, normally so full of anxieties and constant stress, he is only thinking about one thing. It’s like a whole new state of mind he didn’t know was possible. Focused, but not by exerting any effort. Just…peaceful. Thinking about one thing exclusively, because that thing itself brings a sense of calm.
Minho thinks there must be something wrong with him. Either that, or he’s just the single luckiest person on the planet, and the feeling of craziness is stemming from not knowing how to deal with his own luck. Because no normal person meets someone on a plane, gets to know them a little, somehow ends up holding them while watching a movie, and promptly… falls in love with them? No one does that. That would be crazy. Minho thinks about all the personal stuff, stories and opinions he and Jisung have shared with each other in the past couple hours. How many days, how many months, did it take for him to tell those same things to his friends he’s had for years now? How long did it take for him to learn similar things about them?
But the wildest part of this whole experience is that he knows, since Jisung said it with his own mouth, that the other feels the same. He called them soulmates. Even if Jisung is seemingly some sort of dream guy, he’s been just as interested in talking to Minho as Minho has been with him. He’s been completely content to press himself as close as possible to the older. Minho smiles. The thought of getting to hold Jisung all the time. Jisung, who’s obviously so talented, so driven, so kind. But also cuddly. That could all be Minho’s. And they live in the same city! And somehow they were seated next to each other on the same flight back home. There’s no other explanation other than fate. Minho’s never really been a person of faith before, but maybe he’ll have to start looking into something that could explain this.
Minho unthinkingly presses a kiss to the top of Jisung’s head. Jisung shifts to make eye contact with him, searching his pretty brown eyes. Or maybe just admiring them.
“Sorry,” Minho backtracks quickly. Even with how sure he is about his own feelings for the younger, he still doesn’t want to move too fast and scare him away. If that’s still possible at this point.
“No, it’s okay,” Jisung smiles, leaning up to peck Minho on the cheek in an unthinking response. It’s as he’s turning back to watch the movie, or to pretend to watch it while he attempts to calm his heart rate, that he realizes what he just did. He just kissed Minho on the cheek.
“Sorry,” he whispers, pointedly keeping his eyes glued to the screen in front of him.
And Minho thought he couldn’t be any fonder of his recently discovered soulmate, then he had to go and be even more adorable than before. But it’s not just fondness and he needs to tell Jisung that before his heart explodes and he becomes a fire hazard.
Not generally being one to talk about his feelings, Minho takes a deep breath.
“Tell me if I’m crazy, but I think I-,” Breathe in, breathe out. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers into Jisung’s soft hair, the feeling of it on his lips being the only thing grounding him as he for once risks saying exactly what he means.
A moment’s pause. To his relief and not as much surprise as one would expect, Jisung just whispers back, “Me too.”
After a fragment of time where they can only breathe in the enormity of each other’s statements, he adds, “I don’t really know what to do.”
Minho chuckles softly. “Say it. Please.”
“Hyung…”
“Please, Jisung?” He kisses his head again, almost delirious at this point.
“I think I love you, hyung.” It comes out so much easier than the younger expects it to, as the truth often does.
Minho wraps both his arms all the way around him and squeezes. “I think I love you more, Jisungie.”
Jisung can hear the smile in his voice, and just has to look up and see it himself. The sheer amount of fondness he sees in it makes his cheeks flush. He looks up at Minho in loving disbelief. “We’re already doing this?”
Minho wiggles his eyebrow, squeezing Jisung around the middle again. “What do you mean? You want to wait to argue over who loves who more until later in our relationship?”
“I just- What kind of relationship are we gonna have, hyung?” Jisung says, wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck. Any worries he had previously are dissolving by the second as Minho and him continue to understand each other perfectly. He starts to predict they almost always will.
“I already told you, baby. I love you.” Jisung gasps softly. This is…fast. But looking into Minho’s eyes as he tells Jisung he loves him, the younger sees nothing but certainty. It’s breathtaking. The fact that he’s taken to calling Jisung ‘baby’ helps too.
Minho continues, “I want to be with you, I want to be your boyfriend. Wanna- I don’t know,” he laughs in disbelief at his own passion, “Introduce you to my friends, to my family.”
Jisung can’t do anything but smile, his eyes lighting up his whole face. Minho studies him, enamored, as Jisung gaze starts shifting around the plane for a second, searching for other awake passengers. Minho can’t stop himself from giggling, though counterproductive, as he figures out what Jisung is about to do.
Using his arms wrapped around Minho’s neck as leverage, Jisung finally leans in, and presses his lips to Minho’s. To Jisung, it feels like coming home. 35,000 feet in the air, the feeling of Minho’s soft lips pressing back against his makes him feel like he’s on the utmost of solid ground. All outside surroundings fade away as he can only think, closer, closer, closer. Tightening his arms around Minho’s neck, as he presses peck after peck onto the older’s now brightly smiling lips.
The fact that they’ve both started smiling makes it a little hard for it to continue for longer than a couple seconds, but it’s the only way he could express how soft and full of love Minho was making him feel.
As they pull apart, Jisung rests his forehead against the other’s, reveling in his warmth. “I want that too. Wanna be with you.”
This time, it’s Minho leaning in almost as if hypnotized. He’s never thought of himself as that spontaneous or rash. But for Jisung, he’s willing to be. Because it doesn’t feel random, it doesn’t feel too fast. On the contrary, it’s taken way too long for him to find Jisung. Hold on Jisung never faltering, he takes it slower than the younger had. Taking his time to truly bask in having him this close, in his arms, on his lips, on his lap.
“Hannie-“
“My family’s gonna think I’m crazy,” Jisung cuts him off, whispering right on his lips. Even with his statement being one of concern, Jisung’s still smiling.
Of course, Minho has to smile back, pressing one more kiss onto the lips in front of him, lips he’s going to take as much time as he needs going forward to further acquaint himself with.
“Baby, I’m so sure about you that I don’t think I care.”
Heart almost beating out of his chest, Jisung’s content to not argue with that.