Work Text:
You got me like Harley
.
“I got caught, you got me wrapped up around your fingers”
.*.*.
Han Jisung was chewing on his bottom lip, pensively, as he tried to figure out what to think about HAN’s appearance, reflected on the mirror in front of him; the young idol in the mirror was frowning and looking straight back at him.
Previously, Stray Kids had been given the outfits and styles for the music video they'd be filming and had been asked to try them on, alongside the planned glam and make-up for each outfit, and share their thoughts with the Production Team. Jisung was putting up some serious effort onto it, even though there was no one around to back him up on that. He really, really, was, but nothing came to mind as he tried to evaluate his outfit aside from What the Hell is this?
In all honesty, he had indeed managed to get over the easy parts. His hair was parted in the middle, lusciously exhibiting large and subtle waves – Okay, that’s a pass. The make-up gave emphasis to his eyes and the contact lenses made them look sharper and darker, even though they had a dark grey-bluish hue, which is a clearer tone than his original dark brown. The magic of light, shade and tones would certainly make his eyes pop out while filming, and the cameraman would be able to easily get some interesting contrasts and set different moods. Besides, his earrings were cool and discreet; the ear-cuff gave a special touch – Good job. On the other hand, he wasn’t really convinced by the large chain around his neck, but he had worn worse before, so it didn’t really bother him.
Oh, no.
What bothered him was the sweatshirt. Sweatshirt? Threads of a ripped sweatshirt. Must have been a progressive idea from a creative mind who would argue about how it was classy, edgy, alluring, whatever, which Jisung could eventually concede. Well, he could even agree, if he had something underneath it. And that wasn’t the case. With nothing underneath it other than his bare torso, Jisung wasn’t sure if this would be okay. On the contrary, he was tempted to deem it to be a bit too much. Didn’t it make HAN look slightly, huh, sinful? What would Stay think about it? Jisung didn’t want to disappoint them, didn’t want them to change his mind about him nor about HAN. On the other side, he also recalled that, afterwards, the editing team could effortlessly cut and edit the images as they pleased. However, that wouldn’t change the fact that he would be filming Venom with a very much bare chest. But then again, didn’t Channie-hyung film Thunderous with a poorly, strategically, bandage wrapped around him? Yes, he did. He did it and he looked amazing. He killed it. He was Bang Chan though, and Jisung was just an ordinary person; even though HAN could easily be considered way cooler than Jisung, he doubted HAN was cool enough to pull this look off, because it required a precise type of dominant energy, which couldn't be over the top - no more and no less.
Han Jisung was so deeply lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Lee Minho. The dancer had been casually passing by when he spotted the younger one starring at himself in the mirror. It took him a second to understand why Jisung was frowning so hard, but when he realized why, he was flat out overcome by shock and what he had been holding in his hands fell heavily, ungraciously, on the floor.
The disruptive noise pulled Jisung abruptly from his thoughts. Startled, he let his eyes quickly dart through the mirror in order to see what had happened. He easily spotted a lovely pair of cat-eyes, blown wide open, already fixed on him, and managed to register that Minho's peachy lips were, unintentionally, extremely inviting due to the fact that his mouth hanged unceremoniously open.
While he took in and basked in his presence, Jisung first thought about how unfair the choices of outfits had been. Minho was so dressed. He was so, so, so damn dressed and unnecessarily covered and, yet he looked so fucking good. It wasn’t even necessary to show an inch of that unblemished porcelain skin. Furthermore, the outline of his eyes was perfect, and his hairstyle was from a movie star.
How ridiculously unfair, Jisung scoffed inwardly. He waited for a commentary about the outfits or a laugh, or maybe a raised eyebrow and a joke from his brutally honest companion, but only silence could be heard. He waited for anything, but Minho was frozen on his spot. The seconds passed, and Minho stayed there, looking perfect and unmovable.
Something wasn’t right, Jisung concluded, as all of his doubts, scepticism and childish inner sulking were instantly replaced with worry. He turned around to properly face Minho and noticed, for the first time, that his hand was stretched out in the air, indicating something had been previously held by it. Jisung followed logic and looked down. There was an americano fallen right at Minho's feet, its content spilt all over the floor and on his boots.
“Hyung?”
Minho didn’t react.
Jisung approached him, until he was close enough and inside his personal space. He was careful about not making any sudden movement nor stepping over the coffee and the ice on the floor. He bent over a little, reach out to softly place a hand on Minho’s arm, in a gentle attempt of supporting him, and waved at him with the other hand. His eyes, big and concerned, but also curious, had a tinge of adoration.
“Jagiya?”, he called, his tone sweet and tentative.
That was enough to send a visceral pull through Minho’s body, shocking him back into reality. He blinked twice, finally looking at Jisung straight in the eyes. He was still taking in all of Jisung’s presence and all of his every little details, with a dead serious expression on his face.
“Are you alright?” Jisung tried, one more time.
“Hm. Uh,” Minho mumbled since his brain had short-circuited and all he could think about was if he was delusional or not. “Are you wearing that?”
Jisung looked down at himself. Well, wasn’t he already wearing that? He raised his eyes to face Minho and tell him exactly that, but he saw a hint of something more in his gaze. What was it?
“Aahh…” he tried to buy time as his mind rushed furiously, accepting the challenge to decipher Minho’s treasured words. Well, if he was honest, Jisung treasured every single word that left Minho’s lips, uttered in that naturally melodic, delicate voice, but that was not the point. He looked down again and registered that, through the fabric and from where Minho stood, he could see everything; Jisung immediately understood the real, unvoiced question: Are you filming wearing only that? “Don’t like it?”, he ended up asking, in return.
Minho swallowed hard as he eyed the rapper intently, without any hint of anything beyond the fact that he was staring just for the sake of it.
“I do.” He stated honestly, unapologetic.
Jisung suppressed a smile but was unable to prevent himself from flirting. He didn’t want to prevent himself from flirting.
“Too much?” He inquired, his voice steady but coated with teasing sweetness.
“Too much-“
“For other people?”
“To take in.”
Oh.
Jisung was caught by surprise in his own trap and his face was expressionless for a split second before laughter bubbled up out of his chest and casketed from his mouth. He slapped Minho’s arm slightly, by reflex, just for show.
“Ya, Jagiya!!” he exclaimed, loud, playful, and full of life at the same time he shook his head rapidly and scrunched up his nose in mocking repproval. His cheeks filled with the extension of his grin, a mixture of feigned outrage and pure joy. “Can’t you deal with a bit of skin?”
A ‘bit of skin'? Heck, that might be the understatement of the year.
“It’s your skin. On set.” Minho pointed out, plainly, as if it was obvious why it would be extremely difficult for him to deal with ‘a bit of skin’.
Hearing that made Jisung burst into incredulous, louder, wilder, laughter. Minho was incredible, he was always able to surprise him, keep up with him and surpass him, no matter the circumstances. He always gave more and more to feed Jisung’s greedy teasing, masterfully entangling him in a trap he had been naively confident about having been perfectly laid out for the other, but, instead, somehow ended up being used against him. It was addictive, Minho was addictive, and Jisung could play their game all day.
Sadly, it wasn’t the right time nor place for it, so he tried to contain the conversation (and Minho).
He breathed in and adopted an appease tone of voice:
“C’mon I’m not that-“
“Erotic.”
“Woah Hyung!!” Jisung exclaimed, flabbergasted, shaking and agitating his hands in an adorably frenetic sign that could be read as 'calm down'. “I was going to say hot!”
“You are.” Minho resumed, calmly, in his casual tone of voice.
“Hot?”
“All of it.”
Shit. Jisung felt his cheeks catching fire instantaneously, his expression showing every single changed of his emotions. He was the exact opposite of Minho’s blasé expression and cryptic ghost of a smile, but he knew better than to be intimidated by it.
“Do you want a cube of ice to cool down?” he offered, fighting to keep his tone as much unaffected as possible, even though he had a vague notion of how miserably he was failing, and gathered his remaining dignity to suggestively quirk an eyebrow. He secretly knew who actually needed a cube of ice to cool down, though.
Minho scowled at him.
“As if.”
“As if it’d work?” Jisung questioned, half keeping track of their conversation and half keeping track of his own, very private, imagination, at the same time.
“As if-“ Minho stressed before he fell abruptly silent, interrupting himself and dissolving Jisung's inappropriate trail of thoughts.
Jisung giggled and wondered briefly if, by any chance, their minds had thought about something similar. Maybe they had. He knew he needed to focus on the words that had actually been said, but that didn't prevent him from feeling all warm and fuzzy at the same time as he burned and ached for closeness.
“Can you bear it?” he murmured, serious.
“I can die trying.”
Jisung choked in a smile; he was infatuated, intoxicated. He understood and agreed with Minho’s words, the spoken and unspoken ones. He couldn’t even fathom how excruciatingly difficult it would have been for him if their roles had been reversed. Just the thought made him shiver with dread and anticipation. Nonetheless, he was too headstrong to accept those famous last words and admit defeat this time. He wasn’t willing to let the other young man have the upper hand, even though he did know that it wasn’t time for that. He was a goner for Lino, but he wouldn’t be falling alone. He greedily wanted the best of both Worlds and he was confident enough to believe he could manage and get exactly that, so he started to set out his final trap.
“Fine, I’ll fix it.”
“What? How?”
“Trust me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“But-“
“Baby,” He put the right amount of power into the word to cut Minho off successfully “It’s okay, seriously. I agree with you.”
“Huh?”
Jisung shifted and smugly inclined himself, positioning in a deliberate innocent way, his mouth close enough to Minho’s face for his breath to itch against his enticing skin, delivering the final blow: “There are things that are only meant for… my Jagiya.”
Minho inhaled sharply and let out a breathy, nervous laugh. No words left his mouth. Jisung knew what that meant: Minho fell with him. It was a win-win situation then, as always. He grinned once again, prideful and too pleased with himself. His prize was to finally, finally, allow his own hands to cup Minho’s precious face, as he stared deeply into his eyes.
“You’re the best.” He said, in the most intimate, meaningful way he could, to make sure that Minho understood his honest, heartfelt words. He was so fortunate, to have in his life someone mind-blowing, someone extraordinary, who could make him go from sad to happy, from desperate to at peace, from burning to tender, and so much more, in a split second. Life was never dull with him, nothing was ever dull with him. He planted a soft, chaste kiss on Minho's cheek, signalling his devotion. He did it so quickly it was gone the instant it had arrived. “I’ll be right back, trust me.” He added, caressing once Minho’s cheek with his thumb as Minho wondrously nodded in agreement.
Jisung nodded back, reassuringly, and went on his way to find someone to give him supplies to clean the floor.
He had already closed the door behind him when he heard Minho's demanding shout, giving him a clear order.
“Jacket!”
“Yes, baby!” He shouted in reply, cheerfully, mentally promising to find one as soon as possible and before going back to meet with the people who could solve this… issue. Along the way, he hummed leisurely "거미줄(VENOM)"s lyrics. It felt so ridiculously good and addictive to be trapped in Minho’s web, it was unbelievable. Jisung had no words for him: he was utterly beautiful, excruciatingly hypnotising and so, so endearing, it was maddeningly suffocating; he was irresistible.
Minho was, indeed, the best. He was the very best. And he was Han Jisung’s unique best.
.*.*.
Later on, after HAN had sprawled himself on the cool floor and while he tried to focus on giving the interview for “Stray Kids "거미줄(VENOM)" Video MAKING FILM”, he decided he wanted to give out some details about why he had chosen to wear a skin tone turtle-neck underneath the ripped sweatshirt. It took all of Jisung not to look to the side - to where Lee Know was shrouded in shadows, watching him and listening to him talking to the interviewer with a mischievous dark glint on his eyes - and wink.