Chapter Text
Minho really couldn’t wrap his mind around Chan’s insistence to have him record back vocals. He didn’t study music even once in his life and obviously wasn’t the best fit. His voice wasn’t anything special.
But Chan always treated him to coffee afterwards and mama raised no fool to let an opportunity like this slip.
Today, though, there was a new face in the studio. He expected to see Changbin, who was like Chan’s partner in crime, if the crime was producing music. Listening to their demos he sometimes thought it actually was. Anyway, Minho was kind of looking forward to good-heartedly bullying Changbin, so this new guy came as a surprise.
He was cute, with the kind of face that attracts your attention immediately and takes a few seconds to register as handsome. He was wearing a t-shirt with some band Minho never heard of in his life, black jeans and converse, somehow looking a mix between a rock star and homeless, but in a good way.
He looked up from his phone when Minho entered and froze, staring at him. Was there something on his face? Or maybe he should have taken a shower after dance practice. He probably looked sweaty and maybe even smelled a bit. Well, what’s the point getting embarrassed now. If the guy had a problem with it he could leave.
Thankfully, Chan saw his reflection in the divider glass and turned around in his fancy black rolling chair, headphones still on.
‘You’re here,’ he greeted.
Minho nodded without saying anything and turned his eyes to the stranger inquiringly. ‘When you said «we» I thought you meant you and Changbinnie.’
‘Oh, right,’ Chan turned some more to look at him too. ‘That’s Han Jisung.’
Han Jisung just stared at him, then shook his head and smiled.
‘Hi,’ he said shyly.
‘Hello,’ Minho said and blinked at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for the explanation.
Chan stretched his arms above his head, his hoodie rising up above his waist and exposing his impressive muscles. Not that Minho looked. Maybe only respectfully.
‘Jisung will be recording with us for some time,’ Chan explained and smiled at Jisung. ‘If it all works out we’ll try to make him a permanent member of the crew.’
Minho hummed. He really didn’t know what else to say.
‘So, the recording,’ Chan saved them uncomfortable silence that he probably even didn’t register. Chan was the kind of person to never be uncomfortable around people, no matter how long the silence stretched. ‘It’s the same track I showed you last time, I think it’s only missing your part.’
Minho came up to the board and shrugged.
‘Can I listen again?’
Chan unplugged his headphones.
’Of course!’
He pressed the worn-out play button.
The thing about Chan was that he wasn’t a natural genius. He worked hard to become this skillful, bright and talented. And his music always had that touch of thought behind it, that comforting feeling that the song didn’t just spring out of his head, it brewed there, was nurtured, brought to perfection with time and precision.
Minho really liked the music Chan and Changbin produced.
‘Alright, I think I got it,’ he nodded when the song ended.
Chan shooed him into the booth, which he was accustomed by now. But this time there was Han Jisung, who stood behind Chan’s shoulder and seemed at place in the studio much more than Minho. He wasn’t sure in his non-existent singing skills in general, and this intent curious gaze made him self-conscious like never before.
But he wasn’t going to show it. Obviously. If anything, he decided to put more effort into his part, even if it was some background high-pitched squeaking Chan considered good and seemed to preplan in almost all of his songs for whatever reason.
Still, he turned the mic to the side to avoid Han Jisung’s gaze.
The recording went fast, Chan praising him over speaker after each bit. It was always very embarrassing and to his horror he felt his face warm up. It went to normal when he existed the booth, hopefully.
‘I think we all deserve a break,’ Chan proclaimed. ‘Let’s go have some coffee!’
‘Which you are buying me?’ Minho grinned at him. ‘Sure.’
He realised the invitation extended to Han Jisung as well when he picked his backpack and followed them.
‘Can I also get a free Ice Americano?’ He chirped in.
Chan huffed a laugh and Minho hummed.
‘I don’t think so, Han Jisung,’ he said in a fake-stern voice. ‘Chan only has a soft spot for me.’
Han Jisung barked an incredulous laugh, sounding pretty amused.
‘So to get free coffee I need to win his heart?’
Minho winked at him and Chan giggled.
‘I’m treating him for doing the back vocals for me,’ Chan explained. Somehow he was walking in front, Minho and Jisung trailing behind. Minho missed when it happened.
Han Jisung beamed at Minho, the creepy stare gone.
‘In that case I think you deserve a dessert as well,’ he said. ‘For doing a great job.’
Minho scoffed.
‘Come on,’ he rolled his eyes.
He knew it was a fake compliment, and he hated those.
‘What?’ Han Jisung bumped his shoulder against him. ‘Don’t be coy, you must know that you have a lovely voice.’
Even knowing these were hollow words of politeness, Minho fixed his hair to cover his ears. The treacherous ears that grew warm for no reason.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘But you still can’t have a free Ice Americano.’
***
There were fifty cats at the Best Companion animal shelter which he volunteered at three days a week, sometimes four. Minho knew all fifty of them by name (duh) and loved them all equally, even though Seungmin, his sworn frenemy who worked there as well, claimed he played favourites. Which he didn’t. It’s the cats who played favourites.
‘Come on, Doongie, you need to take this pill, baby,’ he cooed, trying to give the aforementioned cat his medicine. Doongie was supposed to be one of those favourites, but right now he was highly displeased with Minho. No nasty scratches so far, but fingers generously chewed on.
‘I’m done,’ Seungmin suddenly appeared behind him, making him drop the unfortunate pill.
There were fifteen dogs at the Best Companion animal shelter and Seungmin loved them, if you asked Minho, much more than actual human people. Or maybe he hated Minho personally and was a decent human being to everybody else in his free time.
‘Want to help?’ Minho asked sarcastically, knowing the response already.
Seungmin surprised him, however.
‘We really do need help,’ he sighed. ‘You know that Goeun and Jisoo are leaving?’
Minho turned around, blinking confusedly.
‘What? Why?’
Seungmin made a face like a shrugging emoticon.
‘Goeun’s going abroad with her family and Jisoo didn’t say and I didn’t ask.’
The great thing about Seungmin was that he didn’t ask when you didn’t want him. He sensed without words if you needed support, and provided it also wordlessly, but never asked.
While Minho was looking away Doongie changed his mind and swallowed the pill. Maybe it was now-I-don’t-want-to situation and he was planning to take his medicine all along.
‘We’ll think of something,’ Minho stood up and looked at all the enormous cages where the cats were held. It was eight in the evening and he had half of them to tend to.
‘Go on, Seungmo,’ he said, trying not to sound concerned about his enemy’s wellbeing. ‘You have that project coming up. I’ll finish up here.’
Seungmin squinted at him suspiciously but he did have that project coming up, so he petted very disappointed Doongie and left.
***
He met Han Jisung again a few days later, when having a quick lunch at the cute cafe near the university. He had to get back soon, but he hated being hungry, so he texted Hyunjin to let him know he was running late.
When he put his phone down Han Jisung was standing in front of him, nervously tapping his fingers on his thigh. Sun in his face made his eyes shine like dark embers.
‘Hi!’ He smiled confidently, at contrast with his body language. ‘I saw you over there and thought maybe I can join you? If you don’t mind, of course, I don’t want to impose.’
Minho blinked at him, surprised, but then gestured at the opposite seat.
‘Be my guest,’ he repositioned his plate to leave some space for Jisung, softly clinking them against the wood of the table.
There was a five-second’s silence, but this time it didn’t feel awkward, probably because they weren’t at the recording studio. This was no man’s land, silence filled with light chatter of people around them and buzzing of hardworking coffee machines.
‘You don’t have classes today?’ Jisung asked, tapping his foot under the table. It wasn’t loud, but Minho could feel the motion. It was funny how he sounded light and confident, while his body was nervous.
‘I do, but lunch is the priority,’ he was actually finished with his food though, sipping an ice americano and recharging.
Jisung nodded.
‘The words of wisdom,’ he went silent when a waitress came to collect the empty plates, then continued. ‘Chan said you are a Performing Arts major?’
Minho blinked. Ah, Chan had probably told Jisung something about him before he joined them at the studio.
‘Well, yeah. I do dance,’ he slumped comfortably against the cool leather of the sofa. ‘And you are, I presume, a producer?’
Jisung smiled shyly and looked down. Or that might have been true to he sun in his face and not shyness.
‘Music Production and Engineering. By the way, I was thinking… maybe we could collab?’
At that point the waitress brought his own coffee and a slice of cake. Jisung thanked her politely and turned his hopeful gaze back at Minho.
Collabing actually sounded interesting. He did use one of Chan’s songs once, but that wasn’t for an assignment, just for fun, something to work on in his free time. The music was, for lack of another word, sensual, and Minho enjoyed finding the balance between languid movements and powerful play on the beat.
‘I mean, we could,’ he hummed a bit, thinking. ‘Depends on the type of song you were thinking. But why? You don’t know what I usually choreograph. Maybe I’m not even good.’
Jisung raised his eyebrows, looking a bit like a surprised animal, but which one Minho couldn’t place. Maybe a deer? Caught in the headlights, but not exactly a deer.
‘Oh, I meant you singing the song I’m working on,’ he smiled, bright and pleased. ‘I had an idea on my mind for some time and I think your voice will work perfectly for this one.’
Minho blinked at him, taken aback, then blinked some more, trying to make sense of that sudden offer.
‘Absolutely not,’ he shook his head, smacking the dangly earring in his left ear against his chin.
Jisung whined, ’What? Why?’
Exactly what Minho was thinking. Why?
‘I’m not a singer, that’s why,’ he frowned, took a sip of his coffee. ‘Recording some back vocals which no one even pays much attention to is one thing, doing a whole song is another.’
Jisung laid on the table, stretching his hands toward Minho. For a second Minho froze, thinking he would take his hands, but he just plastered himself on the table like a sad puppy. He even made the puppy eyes. But Minho had a cold and cruel heart and thus was immune to pleading, no matter how cute it was.
‘But I’ve already started,’ he whined again. ‘Was my hard work and dedication for nothing? You’re saying I waisted my precious time? You’re saying you hate me? Why do you hate me?’
Minho couldn’t suppress a lopsided smile.
‘I’m a professional hater, it’s in my nature.’
Jisung sighed defeatedly and slided back to his seat.
‘But seriously, I think your voice would be great for this song. If you’re embarrassed I won’t tell anyone it’s you singing. It will be recorded in perfect secrecy, we can sign an NDA and all.’
Minho sighed and looked out the window. Cars slowly made their way on the narrow street, occasional revving of an impatient engine audible even inside the cafe.
‘I don’t even have the training for that,’ he reasoned.
Jisung replied immediately, as if he rehearsed the dialogue already.
‘I will coach you. Come on, it will be fun, I promise.’
Minho tapped his chin, an idea forming on his mind.
‘You know what? Let’s make a deal,’ he smiled, pleased with himself.
Jisung squinted at him.
‘Do you want my immortal soul?’
‘Do you have one?’
‘Ha-ha,’ Jisung said in a completely unimpressed voice, but somehow it matched Minho’s energy. He knew Jisung wasn’t offended and just played along.
‘If I agree to make a fool out of myself like this, you will help at an animal shelter,’ he sat back and crossed his arms, like a business shark negotiating an expensive contract.
Jisung chewed on his lip, actually thinking about it, which was a good start. Even if he refused Minho would be a winner, because he wouldn’t have to sing, which he was shit at. Win-win.
‘Animal shelter? Like cats and dogs?’ He sounded cautious.
‘And a few giraffes. Yes, cats and dogs.’
Minho expected him to think some more, but Jisung nodded and smiled.
‘Okay.’
‘Okay?’
‘Yeah. We have a deal. Do you want to shake on it?’
Jisung offered his hand, also playing the part of a businessman, but there was a glint in his eye, an amused smile in the corner of his lips, barely there.
Minho took his hand. It was just a tiny bit bigger than his, and colder than his, but not unpleasantly.
‘Now, is your immortal soul still on the table?’
Jisung laughed, a caught in surprise, short and clipped laugh, a bit like an owl. It was somehow very sincere.
‘Buy me dinner first.’