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Friendship .
Friendship is something that goes beyond every other form of love. It hurts to lose blood related family, it hurts to lose a lover and it hurts to lose yourself. But have you ever lost your own best friend? Your best friend is the person that keeps up with your shit no matter how tired they are. That works hard to make you happy even when they can’t seem to do the same for themselves.
A best friend is the one keeping you sane when you are on the verge of insanity.
And to lose that best friend is a little bit like death itself.
A loud bang echoed through the dorm as Jisung entered it, throwing his keys on the small table next to the wooden door. It was a small apartment, nothing special, but Jisung liked the light shining through the windows and illuminating the whole living room. Looking at it from a stranger's perspective, might make it look lovely and warm, but for Jisung it was more complicated feelings mixed with the warmth of the people living there. It was a place way too small to fit 8 people and yet they made it work, everyone tries to take up as little space as possible, which is odd when you call a place home.
Jisung kicked off his shoes into one corner, not caring about whether or not his hyungs would lecture him again for not putting his things away. Just seconds later his leather jacket was already thrown over a chair and his body plopped down onto the couch in their shared living room.
Sitting there, he thought back to the day, the hours of training he had to go through and the exhaustion that's living in his body, as if it were another part of it. And all the feelings that are hidden under the confusion, he felt towards a certain someone, slowly forcing their way out. He was angry, frustrated, annoyed, sad, or basically, just feeling every bad emotion possible. Jisung let out a loud sight, staring blankly at the wall that holds their group picture - 8 young boys smiling brightly back at him. It felt like they’re mocking him ‘ look how happy we used to be, till you ruined it with all those feelings’ . But no hatred towards himself could drown out Minho's voice in his head, his words wouldn’t stop echoing through his head, making the hatred towards himself burn in his veins like fire.
He is in love with Minho. This was Jisungs big secret, his little treasure that he keeps hidden from everyone - he even tried to keep it hidden from himself, without any success. Instead, he got consumed by his feelings, by the older’s smile, his aura, even the darkness that Jisung sometimes finds in Minho’s eyes. It took a while for him to be honest towards himself, he had an eye on Minho ever since they have been rookies, proceeding to fall deeper and deeper over the years they shared a dorm and a band. Maybe he would’ve been honest, would’ve talked about his feelings to someone else than Changbin, but Minho never showed any interest in him or any other men. Days, like today, reassure him in his decision to never speak to the other. He had been pushing Jisung around all day, criticizing every move he made, no matter how hard Jisung tried, Minho found something to criticize. It's not like Jisung can’t handle criticism, he definitely can and had to all his life, but Minho’s last words felt like a punch in his guts. They made everything overflow, making Jisung leave the practice room without turning back. He was used to hearing it from anonymous people on the internet, but not from Minho. Not from someone he considers his best friend, not from the boy he has been in love with for forever.
Pain .
What a funny feeling, Jisung thought. You have to be close to the flame for it to burn, and Minho was that, fire. But can you blame him? When Minho feels like the first ray of sunshine that touches your skin after a cold night.
Love.
Jisung knew he was in love. There’s no point in denying it. Love was supposed to be the cure of all aches, and yet this one felt like the origin of pain itself. Was love supposed to hurt like this? Is falling in love with your best friend the same as losing them? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out, or even if he already knew the answer.
He cannot pinpoint a time where he hadn’t loved Minho. Even before they met each other, it was as if Jisung had only lived in wait for them to meet. It was as if he had been longing for him for years. Like a lighting that strikes twice in the same place, the earth arounds it remembers all the same.
Yes, Jisung was in love, and yet he was experiencing the worst pain of his life.
Happiness
It hadn’t always been this way. There have been times where the older seemed like the only reason to keep pushing forward.
He then wondered if he was even in love with Minho, or if he was in love with the inconsistency of his affections. Like an addict that just can’t quit.
Comfort is something Jisung has been used to - he had to, living with 7 boys who are so full of love and not afraid to share it with each other. But there are only three places where he was really comfortable: the studio, Minho's room and his own. So, after staring at the wall in the living room, he decided to get undressed and cuddle himself into his bed. It didn’t take long for one of his cats, Dori, to cuddle up next to him.
He cuddled even deeper into his blankets as a soft knock came from his door. He tried to ignore it, not wanting any reassuring words from any of his bandmates. He doesn’t want any more lies to comfort him.
The only thing he wants is to lie in bed, feeling miserable and hoping it’s all just a nightmare that he will wake up from tomorrow morning.
Another knock, followed by a soft “Jisungie.. can I come in?” Echoing through the room.
Minho's voice was the last one he expected to hear and yet, it was the one he desperately hoped to hear.
The tears that had finally started to dry down, fell uncontrollably again. A tiny broken sob escaped his mouth before he could hide his face in his pillow to drown the noise. His chest heaving heavily up and down as he clawed onto his blanket, hopelessly trying to get back the tiniest comfort he felt seconds ago.
A shuffling noise came from the door and a few moments later one side of his bed dipped down. Jisung froze, barely allowing himself to breathe.
Minutes passed and none of them spoke a word. He tried his best to drown his sobs and tears into his pillow, his back facing Minho.
“I’m sorry,” his voice barely above a whisper.
Silence filled the room again as Jisung couldn’t gather the energy to answer. He isn’t even sure what to answer in the first place. You don’t have to be sorry? You are right about what you said? or I know you aren’t, you have been like this for days.. weeks. Or I’m sorry too ?
Hell, his mind was a mess. His feelings too. It’s not easy to fall in love with your best friend. Not that anyone ever said it was, but the movies he used to watch cuddled up on the couch right next to Minho, made him believe it was easier than this. But all of this, the time when Minho still called him his best friend, when he still wanted to do things with him, seems so far away now. That version of a Minho who would come and tell him about his day, or a new song he’s so excited about. It was back when Jisung felt like maybe, just maybe there was a tiny chance that these movies aren’t lies, and that maybe, just maybe, Minho and him could openly be a thing one day. But even if they couldn't be in the open, as long as Minho was by his side he didn’t mind hiding. But first there needs to be a relationship that he can hide, but right now he can't imagine that it will ever come to that.
“Please talk to me Jisung.” this time Minho's voice was just a whisper. Jisungs breath hitched as he felt a hand grab his own. He tried pushing it away but Minho was faster, stronger. He had always been the stronger one, in more than one way. His thumb started to draw comforting circles on Jisungs hand, as the younger tried his best to collect himself. But fuck, it wasn’t easy to collect yourself when the one person you love more than anyone made you feel like you’re worth nothing.
A small sigh interrupted the silence that had engulfed the room once again.
“There is nothing to talk about. You were right, I was wrong, end of the story.” Jisung tried to conceal the hurt in his voice but failed miserably. “It’s just, I didn’t think you would actually word it out like this one day,” he whispered the last part, not sure if Minho could even hear him.
“You know that's not true.” The older man tried to defend himself.
“No, you don't get to do that. It felt true to me, in that moment and especially in front of everyone and during the practice,” he mumbled, finally managing to loosen Minho’s grip on his hand, now hiding completely under the blanket.
“I’m really really sorry Jisung... I really didn’t mean it... I-“ he stumbled over his words “I’m just stressed and exhausted and tired and I’m really sorry I misdirected this.”
“That’s bullshit Minho and you know that!” Jisung forced out, sitting up and looking directly into Minho's face.
It was the first time since the older entered the room that he actually got a look at his best friend's face and it broke his heart, the bloodshot red puffy eyes, the tear stained cheeks, and the broken look in his eyes looking nothing like his usual Jisung.
“You have been avoiding me for weeks. You barely even talk to me anymore, you avoid me as if I had some deathly disease, hell you even leave the room whenever I enter. And you know I let it pass because maybe I did this myself. But today... today-” he couldn’t help the sob that escaped his throat as tears threatened to fall again.
A panicked look swept over Minho’s eyes.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispered, trying to reach forward to wipe away the few tears that had already made their way down his face, but Jisung flinched away.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I don’t really know what I did, was I too clingy? too annoying? too embarrassing? Whatever I did to make you hate me, Minho, I am sorry. All I ever wanted was for you to have a friend in me.” he stuttered, hiding his face in his hands.
Minho felt a sting in his heart. As if a thousand knives were just pushed through it. How could he sit there and apologize if he did absolutely nothing wrong.
“Why are you always blaming yourself, Jisungie?” he whispered, his own sight getting a little blurry.
Because it’s so much easier than blaming you and accepting that you actually hate me the younger thought.
“Because it feels like my fault,” his eyes fell down onto his hands lying in his lap, playing with the hem of his shirt.
“You did absolutely nothing wrong, okay? I’m so sorry about this. So so sorry. You are awesome just the way you are. You are absolutely fucking amazing, and I fucking hate myself for what I said. For how I acted. God Jisung, if I could turn back time I would. Please don’t blame yourself,” the first tears fell down his face as he finished, feeling so desperate to be honest with Jisung.
“So what do you want me to do? Blame you? Accept that you suddenly hate me? Accept that we aren’t even friends anymore?” He raised his voice, desperate. Exhausted. Confused. “You know, I have been sitting here every night asking myself what happened. Every single night. I have lied to myself, told myself I’m fine but you know what? I’m not. I’m not fine. I miss you. I miss the way you tell me about the small things and the big things, I miss how we went to get lunch, I miss how you would come to me ranting over how unorganized Changbin is, I miss how we would cuddle up and watch a movie together, I miss being able to just be with my best friend, with you.” And it stung. Calling the love of your life your best friend. But losing him completely would be like a knife straight to the heart.
Jisungs eyes went wide as Minho wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in close.
“I miss you too Jisungie,” he whispered right beside his ear and it was so honest that for a second Jisung forgets about everything and just lets himself feel. Minho's warm body against his, his breath on his face, his hands slowly moving up and down his back, him. Breathing in his scent, the scent that bought him comfort, made him feel love and calmed him down even on the stormiest of nights. Minho's embrace always meant protection and love, warmth spreading through Jisungs body. Jisung has been missing this warmth for weeks now, he doesn't know how long he can take it before losing himself completely.
“Then why did you turn your back on me? Why... Why did you leave me like that? Just why?” It wasn’t meant to come off as reproachable. It was a genuine question. Because in none of the scenarios Jisung had gone through in his head at night, did he find the answer to it.
Silence.
When Jisung looked up to see if Minho heard him, the older one was looking straight at the wall in front of them.
“Because I’m an idiot” he mumbled more to himself than to the boy in his lap.
“ What ?” Jisung stared at Minho like the other had just grown a second head. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” He was laughing now “I’m an idiot!”
Jisung could only continue to stare. What is wrong with him? And why was he suddenly calling himself an idiot? Oh, he definitely was losing his mind, maybe the exhaustion was finally taking form in his head.
“Come with me,” Minho said as he stood up from bed and took his hand. Noticing his hesitation he added “please?”
And so Jisung was left with a choice to make. It’s funny, he thinks to himself, that life tends to go around the same issue over and over again: what is the right choice? He wasn’t sure about that, but he knew that he would follow Minho everywhere, even to the end of the world.
He found an almost forgotten comfort in the way Minho’s hand was grabbing his. A warm feeling in his chest driving the coldness that had settled away. They stepped out of the room into the hall that leads to the living room. Jisung started to wonder if the intention of the other boy was to go outside of the apartment at all. He was met with the answer to his wondering when Minho stopped walking right in front of the sofa. For a moment there was silence, nobody did anything, and he was about to ask if this was some kind of joke when the other spoke.
“Do you remember the first night we moved in?” Minho stared at the place around them almost as if he was picturing them sitting and talking there.
Jisung did remember that time. It had been a hot summer day of moving and unpacking boxes full of clothes and the few items the boys carried around. He remembered the way his hyungs would continue to joke around until Chan told them to keep up with the work. The memory brought a funny feeling to his body. Content, he would later find out it was.
“Do you remember that we kept on stealing Hyunjin’s stuff?” he said with a soft voice “He started to chase us around until we got tired or he’d throw a pillow at us.”
Minho’s eyes stared at him with an indecipherable emotion. “Do you remember that we were the last ones to go to sleep because we were just that excited for what the future held?” He drew his eyes back to the couch. “We sat right here and talked for hours about our dreams and what we wanted to do when we achieved them. I actually don’t remember who fell asleep first, but I cannot think of another night where I actually went to sleep restfully, even if it was at 5 am.”
Jisung felt the tears cloud his vision again. He did remember that particular night. They were all so tired, and yet somehow all he wanted to do was to continue talking with Minho till one of them fell asleep.
Minho took a small step closer “Everytime I see this unorganized living room all I can think about is that night. This is the place where I realized that you were such an interesting person and that I wanted to know more about you.”
Letting out a long breath Minho took his hand again and dragged him into the next room. Jisung’s head was struggling with the effort of avoiding crying again, but his body acted on his own when he followed Minho right into the small kitchen.
“I really like cooking,” the older boy said.
“I know,” both of them were startled by the sound of his voice “I- I know you love it, Minho”
Minho chuckled “Of course you do, you are… you are my best friend.”
It still hurted, being called a friend, but after the small speech Minho made in the other room, Jisung was coming to terms with that fact, even if it tore his heart open.
“One of the reasons why I love cooking is because it gives me time to think, to be at peace” he said carefully, almost as if he was reciting some instructions. “Whenever I cook I tend to think about… anything really, special things, people… you. ”
“This place, this exact place,” he said while standing in front of the stove “is where I realized I’m not crazy, but we are.”
Finally, it was Jisung’s time to laugh. “Are you calling me crazy?”
“Yes!” he quickly added “What I mean is that even though we are different, we both have things in common, you know? Like the fact that we are both passionate people, I love cooking and you love eating! Or the way we both can be stubborn, but we care about people deeply.”
Jisung was officially lost, but somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was finally listening and seeing his old Minho again, the one that made him laugh and cared about him, the one that never left, and he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Even when he had the feeling some heart breaking moment was lingering in the corner.
“So what’s next on the tour?” he asked.
“Huh?”
Jisung rolled his eyes playfully “You are dragging me around this small apartment to show me your favorite spots, aren’t you? What’s next?”
Minho seemed to recover himself and a small smile found a place in his face. “Very well then, follow me.”
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but surely it wasn’t this “The bathroom?”
“Trust the process, Jisungie” he said while he grabbed him gently by the shoulders until they were both staring at the mirror on the wall, Minho right behind him, hands still on him as they stared at each other through the reflection.
It was an intimate moment, one Jisung wasn’t sure he could stand any longer. He wished he could read the other’s mind, was he also longing for him as he was for him? In another life, one where he was braver, he would have turned around in that moment and close the distance between them, but he knew that was only a wish his other self could fulfill.
“It was last year, we had been together the whole day because we had some schedules together. I remember that once we were finished I took you out for some food, and we came back here.” He let his hands fall to his side. “I came straight to this bathroom, and I remember it shocked me when I saw myself in the mirror and I realized how hard I was smiling.”
“This… this is the place where I first realized that just as you could make me extremely happy, I knew you could also break my heart if you so wanted,” Minho said breathless “and I would let you, because you are worth it.”
“Minho…”
“These last few days I've been so focused on my own fear, on protecting myself and the fact that I don't want to suffer, I don't want my heart to break, that I didn't realize I was breaking yours. And I am so so sorry I did.”
You have to be close to the flame for it to burn.
Perhaps he had read this all wrong. Minho didn’t hate him, he just sucked at being afraid. Perhaps he wasn’t annoying, or a bad friend, but the reason for someone else to be human. Yes, Jisung had read this all wrong.
“I am sorry too,” a genuine apology, not a tear on his face
The other’s eyes widened, “What? What are you apologizing for? It’s me who treated you like shit, like a bad friend.”
“I am sorry I couldn’t see you were struggling with this, I am sorry I couldn’t understand and I didn’t help you before.”
There was a soft sadness in Minho’s eyes. “It wasn’t your responsibility or your fault that I let my insecurities get the best of me.”
“Perhaps, but I’m still sorry.”
Once again they stared at each other through the mirror, only this time a silent understanding crossed between them. Forgiveness.
There was a comfortable silence surrounding them as they exited the bathroom. Jisung was still thinking about what Minho just said; he didn't realize they were back in his room already. He visibly cringed at himself when he saw the wet stains he left on his pillow because of his tears. Remembering his pain from before almost brought it back. Minho, as if sensing this, stood between the bed and him, effectively blocking the view.
“Being vulnerable is scary, but so is caring for someone,” Minho started. “When I was little, my parents always told me that love was not doing the impossible for the person you loved, anyone can do that, anyone can have a single act of courage. No, love is something more tenuous. Love is present even on the most boring days, even in the silence. Love, true love, is not something extravagant or euphoric, it is constant, anticlimactic.”
His cheeks grew scarlet. “I grew up with that idea of love, and maybe that's the reason why I got so confused, because I only saw that type of love in friendships, and I wondered whether it was really there or not.”
“This place, this room, is where I realized how I should be loved. How I want to love and to be loved.”
How I want to love and to be loved.
“Minho? What… what do you mean?”
“Follow me, this is the last place, I promise.”
Without saying any other word Jisung followed his best friend out of their apartment and up onto the roof of the building. The sun was low in the sky by the time they arrived there. It was a small terrace, nothing too fancy, a couple of plants and flowers decorating. Sometimes some of the guys would come here and just pass the time. Jisung loved it, it was quiet, and yet, full of life.
“I love,” Minho said after a long pause “how you can even feel the city breathing from here, you can feel it alive, don’t you think?”
Jisung drew his eyes away from Minho to look back at the city. It was beautiful. Maybe it was the tiny cars moving through the streets that resemble veins on the skin. Maybe it was the even tinier people you could see from up here that looked like moles on someone’s back. Maybe it was the closeness of the clouds in the sky, and their akin to messy hair in the morning. All so beautiful. But maybe it wasn't any of those things that made Jisung feel alive. Maybe it was all because he was still looking at his best friend, all the little things that made him astonishing. A giant on that rooftop.
“It’s breathtaking,” Jisung answered.
They stood there for a moment, neither of them saying anything, not that it was needed, sometimes silence can speak louder than words. A soft breeze made the hairs on his arms rise. It was getting colder yet he didn’t care, he was where he belonged, right there, right in this moment.
Jisung had heard and processed all the words the other boy told him. He was not an idiot, he knew what they meant, still, there was a silent doubt creeping on his mind. It told him that maybe Minho did love him, but just as a friend. Full of passion, but never enough. Is that how you love a friend though? What is love anyways if not a leap of faith you are willing to take for someone?
“I love you.” Minho confessed.
“I know, me too.” Jisung managed to summon a smile.
“No, idiot, I love you,” he laughed, “as in love love.”
Oh. Oh.
“This is the place where I realized I’m in love with you. All this time I’ve been so afraid of accepting that, I thought… I thought you would just push me away, that I would ruin our friendship, all because of my heart,” this time it was Minho who was crying “but keeping my silence is just breaking yours and I can’t stand that. I can’t stand the sight of you crying because of me. So yes, I love you, I’m Lee Min Ho and I’m in love with my best friend.”
Suddenly it all clicked inside Jisung’s head. And then he laughed. He laughed so hard he started crying. He grabbed the other’s hand and said
“Well then Lee Min Ho, I’m so sorry, because I love you too” he smiled “I’m in love with my best fucking friend.”
Minho’s face was a shocked canva “You do?”
“Sorry, I love you.” he smiled, “I wish I could show you a place where I fell in love with you or a moment where I first thought 'holy shit, this is the boy of my dreams', but there is none. I think from the very first moment you walked into my life I fell in love with you. Every action, every smile and every encouragement made me fall in love deeper. Do you remember the showcase? you were so nervous when you had to rap, but once our hands clasped together, it only took you a deep breath to get started. I was so proud of you that day and any day that followed." he took a small break, watching Minho, "I can't believe this is really happening, you have no idea how often i dreamed of this moment, of you loving me back. I love you Minho, with everything i own and with a certainty I've never felt before. It's you, it has always been you." He confessed.
He didn’t have time to register his own words when suddenly their lips were touching. It was a soft kiss that tasted like salty tears and love, pure love, that can only be born from knowing someone so well, from seeing someone else’s flaws and realizing that they just make you love them more.
He had no idea what was going to happen next, if they were going to keep it a secret, or if they would scream it from the top of their lungs. He had the faintest idea of how hard this was going to be, but he didn’t care, because if he had this beautiful and amazing boy next to him, it would all be worth it. They love each other, and maybe, for now, that's enough.
So yes, you have to be close to the flame for it to burn.
Let him burn then.