Work Text:
minho:
hey, you know that jisung kid?
hyunjin:
the scrawny dude?
minho:
he’s not scrawny
just wears a lot of loose shirts to hide his muscles
he’s been going to the gym a lot lately
hyunjin:
…okay
not gonna ask how you know that but yeah?
minho:
you think he has a pain kink?
***
Stalker is a strong word. Really strong. It implies Minho spends his days actively seeking out, say (and completely hypothetical and irrelevant to nothing else but the context), that one year three Music Arts kid who lives four doors down, is allergic to tight clothes and laughs like it’s a competition.
He doesn’t, by the way. If that wasn’t clear enough.
It’s just, Han Jisung, The Kid ™️ , is almost always everywhere Minho goes. And yes, he knows he doesn’t own Mr. Woo’s convenience store and he knows that it’s a commercial building with the store being the only thing close to a supermarket being open twenty four hours — he isn’t stupid. But seeing Jisung once on the same aisle at the same godawful time as him is a coincidence, seeing him everyday since is deliberate and possibly a threat.
Minho doesn’t like threats, so perhaps he takes it upon himself to search for the kid around campus with his eyes, and maybe he knows Jisung’s weekly schedule. But that’s a means of survival, it’s in his best interest. He just needs to make sure that he can sleep with both eyes, is all.
‘Are those fucking binoculars?’
He startles at the accusatory tone but doesn’t make to acknowledge his roommate. He reckons the man’s been hanging out with Felix too much, being able to creep around like some kind of feline.
‘Yes.’ His voice is low, distracted. He can barely make out the shuffling of feet beside him, almost startles again when Chan’s head comes into view, neck craning to get a good look at what exactly Minho is.
He notices, stills and sighs.
It’s simultaneous, too. Minho wonders how he manages to radiate such intense disappointment without even trying.
‘Minho.’
The boy in question takes a deep breath. Here it comes.
‘Hyung.’ He tries to mirror the resignation in Chan’s tone.
‘What exactly are you doing, sweetie?’
It’s patronizing and telling that Chan clearly thinks he’s lost it — wouldn’t be the first time he’s been addressed sickly sweetly like a child this week alone but he’s nothing if not stubborn (and perhaps insufferable) and he answers casually, eyes still trained on the silhouette of bodies below.
‘Scoping our perimeter.’
There’s silence for a few second before another long suffering sigh. At this rate, Chan is bound to get an aneurysm.
‘Minho, I need you to understand this isn’t some Mini Militia or Call of Duty gag you’ve got going on. You’re genuinely sitting here on a Sunday, the only free day you’ve got this week, by the way, and you’re in your cotton wool pajamas and you’ve bought a pair of binoculars and the lights are turned off and you are currently, and have been, watching the third year from down the hall smoke weed with his friends, unironically, mind you.’
A beat. ‘There’s just something sinister to him, you know?’
‘Oh my god, Minho!’ Chan looks like he’s seconds away from pulling his hair. ‘You know what, fine. Go on with whatever this creepy thing you’re doing is and I…I am going to leave, quietly, slowly and I am not going to think about it for the rest of the day. But by the time I come home, you better not still be here.’
He doesn’t gratify Chan with an answer and the older man doesn’t appear to need one as he stalks out to the hallway, grabs his coat and leaves. Good riddance, he thinks. Now he can carry on with his completely non shady, absolutely normal business without being judged by the likes of Chan. He rescues a cat once and suddenly thinks he’s some kind of moral compass.
Minho’s not lying when he says there’s something sinister to Han Jisung — okay, maybe sinister isn’t the word but there’s definitely something off about him and his kind (pretty) smiles and polite waves to Minho whenever they cross each other in the halls isn’t going to throw him off his game so easily. Contrary to popular opinion, he doesn’t turn to the jelly at the first sight of a pretty boy: Hyunjin was a moment of weakness.
Besides, he’s not genuinely looking at Jisung. Barely even noticed him before Chan mentioned something. He was staring at the pretty cat licking her paws perched on Soohyun’s AC unit because it’s funny, seriously, how Soohyun has made it clear that she’s deathly allergic to cats yet they keep finding her. And maybe, sometimes, he glances down at Jisung and his friends who are having some kind of rave in the darkness of the parking lot only illuminated by the dying street lamps and perhaps he thinks that whenever the light flickers and catches Han Jisung laughing or lighting another roll, he’s really beautiful. But it’s nothing, really.
The third time he allows his focus to shift to Jisung that night, he witnesses an accident. Jisung’s roommate and Chan’s gym buddy, Seo Changbin, is gesturing wildly and accidenlty presses the butt of the cigarette on Jisung’s bare arm. Minho winces, teeth catching and he can hear the panicked scream coming from Changbin. The person who was actually hurt appeared so nonchalant about it, Minho had to close the window in disbelief.
He was burned by a cigarette, he didn’t even flinch, he kept on drinking his beae, it was like he didn’t even notice until Changbin brought it to his attention.
Yeah, there’s definitely something off about Han Jisung.
***
Minho is exhausted and he’s holding a watermelon.
To be honest, he doesn’t really want to talk about how the other one comes to be. Something about Hyunjin needing it for a sketch but when he arrived at the other boy’s dorm, he’s met with he and Lee Felix from year three Creative Arts snogging like they need the fluids in each other’s mouths to stay alive and out of spite, plus maybe the reminder that he’s still single, he takes the watermelon with him which he promptly regrets because he’s so tired from his calculus lecture and he feels like his arm is about to fall off.
In this haze, he’s happy when he makes it back to their dorms and finds the elevator isn’t being crowded as always. He gets in with his eyes halfway closed. It’s only when he goes to press for his floor and finds it already lit up that he realises there’s someone else in there with him.
He turns to find Han Jisung smiling at him and startles so hard that his brain seems to forget it’s not only his body he’s struggling to hold up because he instantaneously drops the watermelon and, almost in slow motion, follows the crash to where it finds its ultimate target.
Jisung.
His fifty thousand ton watermelon has fallen on Han Jisung’s flip flop clad feet and Minho is screaming his lungs off, suddenly more awake than ever.
‘Jesus Christ! I am so sorry. Oh my god, are you bruised, let me see—‘
Through his panic, he registers that Han Jisung is not. Instead, he’s staring at him a bit amused, blinking slowly, lips quirked slightly. His gaze follows Minho’s and he bends to pick the watermelon, hands it to him.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ And he says it in such a casual way that Minho is a bit stunned, mechanically taking the fruit handed to him and blinking like a deer in headlights.
He stares down at Jisung’s feet where three of his toes are a glaring red and his chest burns with guilt.
‘That looks really bad. I have a first aid kit at home and I can totally look at it for you. I’m really sorry.’
This is really bad. The first time he’s exchanged more than a seconds worth of words with the kid and he mauls his feet. He’s never gonna live this down. Chan is going to kill him and why does Jisung look like he’s seconds away from laughing.
‘It’s fine, really. I’m alright. I’ll walk it off. Thanks for offering, though, Minho-ssi.’ The elevator door dings open and their floor stares blankly at them. ‘I’ll see you later. Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay? I’m really fine.’
And he leaves and — he genuinely walks it off. Han Jisung isn’t limping or acting the least bit affected in any way. He strolls over to his door and unlocks it, throwing Minho a smile before he pushes inside.
He’s standing there, watermelon in hand, elevator doors about to close and thinking: what the actual fuck just happened?
***
Seo Changbin likes Bang Chan. The universe must really like working in Minho’s favour because the feeling is intensely mutual (seriously, if he has to listen to Chan rant about how much he wants to eat Changbin out one more time, he might take matters into his own hands and pull a Vincent Van Gogh).
After the Watermelon Fiasco, as Chan dubs it, Minho begins to notice a lot more about Jisung and he begins to question a lot more about Jisung. It’s like, almost, seeing for the first time. There’s so many occurrences and he’s wondering if it’s always been there. Has Jisung always scraped his elbow on that one sharp rail on the stairs, bled and not even noticed?
He’s desperate, curious, a bit worried and pretty good at blackmailing people. So when there’s a knock on the door at a godforskaen hour that Saturday, he’s pulling the door open instead of yelling for Chan to go get it.
Changbin is a bit surprised to see him but he’s mastered the art of reeling his expressions in because he’s soon smiling at Minho, albeit a bit awkwardly.
‘Hi, Minho-ssi. Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering or anything. Is Chan-hyung home? We were supposed to head to—‘
‘The gym together, yeah I know. He’s in the bathroom, had a bit of a shampoo problem.’ Minho hums noncommittally and hopes Changbin can’t see right through him and pin the ‘shampoo problem’ on Minho rightfully. He just needed to make sure Chan stalled and okay, maybe making his shampoo soapier wasn’t the best choice but it’s all he could come up with in so little time. ‘You can come inside if you want, wait for him?’
Changbin huffs a laugh, hesitant. ‘No, it’s alright. I don’t want to intrude.’
‘Ah, don’t be stupid, Changbin. Come on, have you eaten? I was just packing Chan lunch.’
The other man walks in reluctantly, eyes scanning the entire living room area before something registers. He turns to Minho, voice smaller than before.
‘You pack him lunch?’
‘Oh, yeah. You must see it sometimes when he eats at the gym? I don’t do much, just fruits, proteins and all the things your muscled bodies need. Chan specifically likes banana milkshake, as I’m sure you know already.’
He’s entered the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, doesn’t ask, just hands it to Changbin. He goes to grab napkins.
The boy in question deflates. ‘Oh, I didn’t know that.’
Tsking, his hands perch on his waist. ‘Come on, Changbin-ah, don’t disappoint me. If you don’t know these little things, how do you expect to woo him.’
There’s a splutter, the unmistakable sound of choking and there’s water suddenly on his couch, a bit dribbling from the corner of Changbin’s lips. His eyes are wide, caught. Minho hands him some napkins and then goes around to dab the wet spots on the sofa.
‘I’m sorry?’ the younger boy begins. ‘I’m sorry, what’re you talking about?’
‘Don’t be like that, man. Everyone, even visitors, on this floor know about your raging crush on Chan. I would be blind if I didn’t notice it too. The pining aura around you is intense.’
‘I don’t pine!’ Changbin looks a bit offended.
Minho scoffs. ‘Yeah, okay. All I’m saying is you need to up your game if you ever want to land someone like Chan. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s a huge romantic.’
Resigned, Changbin sighs. ‘Say, hypothetically, and super hypothetical here, I do like him, then what? How do I go about telling him?’
‘Oh, many ways. So many ways. I can help you, if you’d like?’
Interested, Changbin inches a bit closer. ‘Really? You would do that for me? Thank you so much, Minho-ssi.’
‘Don’t go thanking me yet, I’m no saint. There’s a catch.’ He smiles at Changbin when the younger boy cocks his head to the side.
‘What is it?’
‘I have some questions about your roommate Jisung.’
***
‘Changbin said you asked him if Jisung has a pain kink.’
Minho is halfway through with his soggy Frosty cereal when Chan’s voice rings in his ear. He almost chokes but doesn’t because he has more tact than that. He breathes, swallows slowly and lies.
‘I have never met Changbin in my entire life.’
Chan takes a seat next to him on the couch, brows quirked. ‘Really? Because he definitely met you and he had a lot to say.’
Screw you, Changbin. Next time I’ll let you choke.
He shrugs. ‘Must have hallucinated. Wouldn’t be the first time someone dreamed me up.’
A typical, ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ sigh rocks Chan’s chest. ‘Seriously, Minho? What is it to that kid, anyway. Usually, you’re not interested in someone for more than two days.’
‘I’m not interested in him, I just think he’s interesting. In a morbid way. In a ‘I have a huge, deadly secret and I’d rather die than anyone find out’ way and I really want to find out.’
‘Yeah, okay.’ He looks up to find Chan staring at him strangely. ‘Just be careful, okay? It’ll be better if no one gets hurt. Especially Jisung. I can’t ruin my chances with Binnie.’
‘Thanks, hyung. I love feeling cared for like this. I appreciate it.’
Chan, the fucker, ruffles his hair and stands up. ‘Sure thing, baby.’
While the older man returns to his room to work on either music or an activity for one of the hundred clubs he’s in at the university, Minho dunks his plate in the sink, half worried and half annoyed. What did Chan mean by no one getting hurt? He was mostly kidding with the things he said and yeah, maybe he’s interested in Jisung, but it’s probably as nothing more than friends. Why do all his friends exchange knowing looks when he brings the kid up?
He hates the feeling that’s inside of him so he ignores it, pulls on a coat and yells to Chan that he’s going out. It’ll be winter break in a month but the harsh weather has already come with full force. He squeezes the cloth around him and rubs his hand together. He’s thankful that the cat cafe he’s heading to is only a couple blocks down.
The bell rings overhead announcing his arrival. It’s warm inside, one of the only shops around that has a working heater and it’s not as crowded as it usually is due to it being the peak of the semester. He counts his blessings, greets Mia at the counter and finds a seat. One of the best things about being a dance major is not many of his exams are theory, save for that calculus elective he has to take, so while other students are having mental breakdowns over classes, he can relax and sip a coffee while petting cats.
A great experience, if you ask him.
But ten minutes in when the ginger tabby on his leg has finally had enough of belly rubs and saunters off to her sleeping corner, the bell chimes again and out of habit, he’s looking up then everything goes terribly wrong because somehow it’s Han Fucking Jisung and he’s smiling at Minho who has no idea why is face is so hot all of a sudden.
‘Minho-ssi!’ The kid calls, arms shooting up in a wave. ‘Hi!’
In that moment, Minho’s glad they’re more or less the only ones in the shop because he thinks it’s a bit embarrassing how a wide smile slips through before he can yank it back and store it in the deepest part of throat. He’s smiling and waving back and Jisung is coming over and he’s thinking, great. Absolutely fucking great.
Which, obviously, is a lie because there’s nothing great about this and Minho is still wondering why the fuck his face is on fire.
‘Hi, Minho-ssi.’ Jisung’s smile is a little too bright for late evening. Minho smiles back.
‘Hey, Jisung.’
‘Mind if I join you?’
Yes, his brain is screaming, in glaring neon red. Warning signs are going up all over his mind and once again, Minho is annoyed because he genuinely doesn’t know why. This is the first time he’s coherent enough to genuinely perceive Han Jisung, so maybe that’s why his heart is in his throat.
‘Go ahead.’
‘I’m so happy I caught you here. I’ve been looking for you. I didn’t think a cat cafe was your kind of scene but now I think I can see it.’
Minho’s brain is doing stupid things again. He ignores it.
‘You’ve been looking for me?’ He says it with quirked brows, expecting Jisung to freeze up in embarrassment.
He doesn’t. Instead, he nods, exuding this aura of extreme calm that Minho doesn’t know if he should respect or loathe. Everything about Jisung screams laidback, one with the waves hipster. He sips his coffee.
‘Yeah! Changbin-hyung said you guys talked?’
Once more, Minho almost dies. He’s beginning to think he’s allergic to the name Changbin or maybe he just shouldn’t hear about the boy whenever he’s close to liquids or solids that should be in his mouth. The coffee enters the wrong tract and he’s left coughing and heaving unsexily. Absolutely fucking great.
Jisung is up and he’s rubbing his back and he’s assuring not just Minho but Mia and the other customer that he’s fine. His chest is shaking though, Jisung’s, and Minho wants the ground to swallow him up whole. He’s scared a couple of cats and that’s a crime in itself.
Han Jisung is still laughing when he makes his way back into his seat, muffled giggles that Minho can’t be mad at.
‘I’m sorry, hyung—‘ hyung?! ‘But I guess that confirms it.’
Minho let’s out a long-suffering sigh. He changed his mind, maybe he’ll pull a Van Gogh on Changbin instead.
‘Does he go around telling everyone things said in confidence?’
A shrug. ‘More or less. But to his credit, he didn’t tell me what you guys talked about, only that you talked.’
Okay, Changbin can keep his ear for one more day.
‘I’m a bit curious, though.’ Jisung is leaning forward. Why is Jisung leaning forward. ‘What did you guys talk about? It’s been eating me up. Whatever he said about me is a lie.’
Narrowed eyes and Minho quickly remembers what this entire thing is about, anyway. The massive secret Han Jisung of year three Music Arts is hiding.
He cocks a brow. ‘What do you think he said?’
A sheepish laugh leaves Jisung. ‘Something embarrassing, probably.’
It aggravates Minho, the fact that he can’t seem to put a finger on what this thing with Han Jisung is. He leans back, stares hard and unblinking. The boy across from him is shifting under his attention but he doesn’t notice. Minho’s trying to read him.
‘Nothing embarrassing.’ His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. ‘I was just asking him about your pain tolerance and how high it is.’
Confusion immediately morphs into a wide grin on Han Jisung’s face and Minho’s sure, if given enough time, he can count every single one of his molars. It’s crazy, how pretty the smile is.
He laughs, almost relieved. ‘Oh. Oh, the pain thing. It’s—‘ he looks like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. ‘What do you think it is?’
A flash of his conversation with Hyunjin comes to mind and Minho is immediately looking away. ‘You don’t want to know.’
Eyes shining, Jisung looks like a wholeass star or something poetic like that. ‘No, I do. I really, really do.’
Minho shakes his head and busies himself with the drying puddle of coffee on the magenta table. After a beat, Jisung seems to understand he’s unwilling to talk so he nods, reclines.
‘Okay, how about this. If you can’t figure it out in a few weeks, I’ll tell you.’
He glances up at the boy, head cocked. ‘Sure. But you’re not giving me a lot of material to work with here. I barely see you outside of the dorms.’
A shrug, sly smirk. ‘I guess we’ll just have to hang out a lot, then. Outside of the dorms.’
There’s something shaking in Minho but he swallows it up with a disinterested nod. ‘Deal.’
***
hyunjin:
why would you think he has a pain kink?
minho:
because he never reacts to any pain
hyunjin:
once again, i’m not going to ask how you know that, hyung
but why’s your first thought a pain kink?
minho:
idk
what else could it be?
hyunjin:
so what do you imagine he does anytime he feels pain
rushes off to the nearest bathroom to jack off?
you think that’s what happened after the watermelon fiasco?
minho:
goddamnit chan
also i never said that
hyunjin:
that’s usually what pain KINK entails hyung
if you think that’s what he has then you’re definitely implying he gets hard anytime he gets hurt
you should punch him to test it should
minho:
shutup hyunjin
goodbye
i wonder why i even texted you
hyunjin:
because i’m the only other person in our friends group as nosy as you
goodnight, hyung
sweet dreams of your year three neighbour being a masochist
i’ll be here whenever you want to rant about him again
minho:
i’m blocking you
***
‘You’re all dressed up.’
Minho glances down at himself and then back up at Chan. ‘Hyung, I am wearing a sweater and jeans.
‘Yeah but I’m used to seeing you in sweatpants and three day old pizza stained T-shirts so this is a welcome change. Are you going out?’
Minho chooses to ignore the first few words, it’s how he maintains his peace of mind. ‘Yeah. Jisung and I are going for coffee.’
‘Oh, are you now?’ There’s a wry smile and wiggling of eyebrows going on. Another thing Minho chooses to ignore.
He’s in the middle of telling Chan to shut up when they both hear a knock on the door.
‘Minho-hyung? It’s Jisung.’ Comes a muffled voice from behind it.
Chan’s surprised stare finds him as he exaggeratedly mouths, ‘Hyung?’
An eye roll is his response even though he had the same reaction a few days ago. Minho finishes playing with his hair and yells a response to the kid behind the door. He tells Chan not to wait up as if it’s not early afternoon they’re not going to be back in like an hour and he opens the door to Jisung who greets him with a signature wide smile.
He goes to mirror it when he feels a presence behind him and his features immediately mould Into to a scowl when he finds Jisung’s bright eyes directed at the looming figure.
‘Chan-hyung.’
He can just about feel Chan smiling. ‘Hey, Sungie—‘ Sungie? ‘I see you’re finally dragging this one out of the house.’
Jisung laughs, low and hearty. ‘More like he’s dragging me. By the way, hyung, are you and Binnie heading to the gym later? It’s my off day but I was thinking of joining.’
Chan immediately brightens, teasing forgotten. ‘We are. You should totally come, I’ll spot you.’
‘Thanks, hyung. I’ll take you up on that.’ He turns to Minho, lips upturned. ‘Ready to leave?’
He hates how it makes him feel, the fact that Jisung deliberately distracted Chan from would would have inevitably been humiliating teasing directed at Minho. Conniving bastard.
He nods. ‘Let’s go.’
They don’t go back to the cat cafe. Instead, Jisung leads and Minho follows to somewhere the boy frequents because ‘I’m not drinking your expensive ass coffee, hyung. Fifteen thousand won for a cup are you kidding me?’ And okay, they probably argue about it all the way to the new cafe because, ‘quality over quantity, you ruffian. What’s an extra thousand won?’ And ‘for a college student like me? My life savings.’
Minho forgets to be awkward on the ten minute walk and before he realises, Jisung is pushing the single wooden door open and the tingly smell of cheap coffee battles his sinuses. For a place so small, he notices, it sure does have a lot of customers. The guy behind the counter greets Jisung with a disinterested nod.
His name tag reads Seungmin.
There’s a bit of dapping up going on that genuinely has Minho convinced that Jisung is straight. (He isn’t. Minho has heard enough of the things going on in his room to know that. They’re dorms for godssake, walls are thin. For his sanity, Jisung needs to learn to be quieter).
He’s eventually introduced. ‘Seungminnie, this is Minho-hyung.’
The bored look is quickly overtaken by poorly hidden surprise. ‘Hm? Welcome to the cafe, Minho-ssi. What can I get you?’
Jisung beats him to an answer. ‘He’ll have what I’m having.’
Seungmin shrugs and leaves, stare lingering for just enough to make Minho squirm. He hides a smile as he walks toward the kitchen. Jisung guides Minho to a window seat, one of the only ones free. They discuss stupid things like why yellow is called yellow as they wait for their drinks. It comes, Minho tentatively takes a sip.
The younger boy across from him is battling a smile. ‘So, what do you think?’
Minho makes a show of sniffing, taking a small sip and clicking his tongue. He drops the venti cup down and shrugs. ‘It’s okay, I guess.’
Jisung smiles so wide, his eyes get lost in his cheeks. He adjusts his cap. Jesus, he’s like the definition of frat boy sunshine and he makes Minho feel things that confuse him because he’s genuinely never felt anything like this in all his twenty two years existing — believed he wasn’t even capable and now his he can hear his heart beat and he’s wondering if these are normal things when one makes a new friend. He’s not a child, he knows what feeling are…only, he’s not sure how to identify them.
He ignores it and decides to tell Jisung about his goldfish called Rabbit instead. He and Chan won him at a fair and he’d warned Chan that the fish wouldn’t last as a pet and fair animals were always destined to last only twenty four hours.
His best friend, that sappy asshole, decided to take it upon himself to smuggle in the fish to their dorm even with the strict no pets allowed policy and attempt to prolong Rabbit’s lifespan and now there’s a running gag between them estimating how long he’ll be alive for. Minho doesn’t exactly hate the wide smile on Chan’s face when he comes home and doesn’t find Rabbit bottoms up — so maybe he goes out of his way to feed the fish when Chan can’t and change his water. There’s always a knowing smile on the older man’s face when he finds clean water in Rabbits bowl but he doesn’t bring it up and Minho would kill him if he did.
Sure, maybe there’s usually things Minho mentioned he likes in passing littered around the house but neither of them talk about that, too.
Jisung is so rapt, staring up at Minho from behind his cup of coffee as if trying to hide a grin and Minho has to pretend not to notice what it does to him. Here’s where the disaster happens. Let it be known that it was not on purpose, too.
So he’s positively blushing, right? And he just can’t have that, absolutely not. So he tries to pretend to pick something from the ground, only he accidentally knocks the second cup of steaming coffee Seungmin has provided them and as the universe would have it, the burning evilness splashes all over Jisung’s thigh and Minho is screaming for the second time since they’ve met and eyes are immediately on him.
‘Jesus, I am so sorry. Fucking— are you okay?’
He’s on his feet in no time and of course tries to dab it away with napkins and ends up burning his fingers and screaming again — he reckons this is the most ruckus the tiny coffee shop has had in a hot minute — and cold fingers are wrapping around his wrist stopping him from trying another time.
He looks up to find Jisung staring down at him with that same beguiled expression and he’s guiding Minho’s hands away.
‘Hyung,’ there’s a smile in his tone. ‘It’s fine. Go run your hand under cold water, I’ll go round back and fix this, okay?’
Befuddled, Minho can only nod, shifting to give Jisung room to stand up and make his way to the room behind Seungmin who looks like he’s stifling giggles. Everyone’s attention returns to what they were previously doing and Minho has to make the walk of shame to the bathroom at the other side of the cafe to douse his hand in cold water.
It’s red and it throbs but not as much as the embarrassment pounding in him. He wonders, briefly, if he can escape through one of the windows in the stall but he doubts his thighs will fit through. He sighs and hears the door opening over the sound.
From the mirror, he sees it’s Seungmin.
‘Seungmin-ssi.’ Is all he says.
The kid comes next to him, leans on one of the wash basins. ‘You’ve been in here a while. Jisung sent me to come make sure you’re alright. He would’ve come but the stain isn’t coming off his jeans.’
Minho cringes. ‘Right. Sorry about that, by the way. You probably had to clean up the mess.’
Seungmin shrugs. ‘That’s typically what my job entails, yes.’ He turns to the mirror and pushes stray hair from his eyes so his forehead shows. ‘Don’t worry about it, really. Are you okay, though? Your palm is pretty red. I think we have ointment somewhere in the back. Jeongin’s dad makes sure to keep it for some reason.
‘I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Save for my ego.’
‘Oh, don’t beat yourself up about it. Worse things have happened. For a second, I thought you did it on purpose just to figure out the thing with Jisung but with how mortified you are, I doubt it.’
Minho blinks, turns to him. ‘He told you?’
A nod.
‘Does he just go about telling people things said in confidence.’ He’s only half joking.
‘How do you think him and Changbin-hyung met?’
Okay, that makes sense.
‘How long have you known him?’ He asks, half curious and half stalling because he can’t imagine anything worse than going back out there.
‘Since we were kids. We lived on the same street.’
‘So you know the thing that’s wrong with him?’ He says, for lack of better word. He doesn’t think anything is wrong with Jisung, per se. Off, maybe.
Seungmin shrugs again.
Minho dries his hands. ‘Seungminnie—‘
‘Yeah, no. I’m not telling you. Figure it out yourself. It’s always fun when new people join our friend group and try to guess what’s up with him. Although, after a few days they pretty much know, they’re just scared to say it. I see you don’t know at all.’
A sigh rocks Minho’s chest for the second time in the cube sized bathroom. ‘Come on, just tell me. I’ll owe you one.’
‘No way. If I had to figure it out myself, so do you.’ He then makes a show of glancing at the clock overhead. ‘Gotta go, Minho-ssi. It’s my break soon. But I will definitely be getting updates from Jisung about this and just to put it out there, I will be laughing everytime.’
Minho decides that it’s Seungmin he wants to Van Gogh.
It takes everything in him to make his way back into the common area but once he does, he finds Jisung waiting for him with a smile. There’s a huge stain on his jeans but he doesn’t seem to mind. He tells Minho he’s paid and before the older man can protest, that they should probably get out of there which, thank god.
Minho apologises many more times on the way back to the dorms but as always, Jisung waves him off. It’s fine, he says. And Minho’s not crazy because he thinks that maybe it really is. Maybe he didn’t imagine the fact that Jisung didn’t even flinch when the boiling coffee touched his skin.
He didn’t even notice.
***
minho:
you free this friday?
hyunjin:
hyung!
i was wondering when you’d text me
i’m free, why?
minho:
need you to babysit rabbit
chan and changbin are going to a concert
i have a thing at dance class
can you?
hyunjin:
ofc
i love rabbit
i’ll buy him all the food his little rabbit body needs
minho:
just to clarify
you do know rabbit is a fish right?
minho:
hyunjin?
hyunjin:
what ofc i knew that
pretty offended you would ask me that hyung
minho:
took you a pretty long time to respond there
one would be inclined to think you’re maybe
lying?
hyunjin:
when have i ever lied to you ?
minho:
i have a whole list in my notes app
don’t tempt me
smh just try not to kill the fish okay
chan would never forgive you
hyunjin:
and you too hyung
don’t pretend you don’t love that thing
minho:
and back on the block list you go
***
He doesn’t tell Chan about the Coffee Fiasco because knowing his best friend, he would somehow find a way to either tease him for all eternity or make a huge deal out of it so he keeps it to himself and hopes Jisung hasn’t told Changbin who hasn’t told him. For the next two weeks, he hears nothing of it from Chan so he safely assumes the duo have thankfully kept their mouth shut for the first time and he goes about his days as normal.
Winter break is in two days and he and Jisung have more or less hung out every day leading to it (Fine, not every day, just a lot.) and Minho has come to two realisations.
- Friends don’t feel what he does around Jisung.
This one kind of came in slow bits of realisation and experiments conducted on who other than Chan. He likes to think he’s pretty subtle with it. He discreetly turns up the heater so Chan can go shirtless more often and he waits to see if his heart spikes up at the sight. It doesn’t. Pretty sad for Chan, honestly, especially since he’s been putting so much work into his body only for someone as cool and mysterious as Minho not to be attracted to him. A travesty, really.
He also cuddles Chan a lot, enough to raise suspicion from the other boy though he never voices it because the day Chan turns down cuddles is the day he is dead. Still nothing. It comforts him, like the way he knows Chan is attractive but he isn’t attracted, but it makes no difference. There are even more instances that help him debunk the fact that why he feels for Jisung is in any way platonic.
He may have spiralled at the realisation but it’s not really his fault because all his life he’s never felt anything for anyone and he’d more or less resigned to being something near Aromantic but all of a sudden there’s this squirrel looking kid in year three Music Arts and he wears hats and beanies and supreme sweatpants like it’s a lifestyle and he smiles like he’s rivalling the sun and Minho is suddenly feeling mush in his chest. It’s disgusting, really. So like all things, he chooses to ignore it.
2. He knows exactly what is wrong with Jisung.
This one, he only realised a few days ago and he’s been banging his head on every available surface at his stupidity ever since (Chan walked in once and immediately walked out) because it’s been right there. It’s glaring and Minho’s blind. He isn’t even mad at Kim Seungmin laughing at him anymore.
It’s called CIPA, the thing where Jisung cannot feel physical pain, ever. And it’s scary, and Minho is terrified because something horrible could happen to Jisung at any time and he wouldn’t even notice. It’s kept him up at night ever since he found out, midnights spent searching for a cure instead of studying for the winter exams. Every time they go out and Jisung is out of his line of sight, Minho can’t help the spike of anxiety, wondering if he’s okay.
He hates it, wonders how Jisung’s parents and friends deal with it.
So maybe that’s why he pretends not to know, so he can keep being in Jisung’s space, making sure he’s okay.
‘—and he was talking about coming over this Friday as if he doesn’t know that’s me time. I swear, I’m especially looking forward to this Friday because a new episode of One Piece is coming out.’
Minho snorts. ‘That’s still going on?’
He tries to focus on the forged look of offence on Jisung’s face and not the stab of pain at the mention of yet another one night stand. It’s Thursday and they’re studying together at the library for the third week in a row. The heater is barely doing anything and since they arrived only a few minutes before, Jisung’s cheeks are still red with cold. Minho wants to squeeze them.
It doesn’t hurt as much, though because in all the recent stories, Jisung’s been turning them down. It’s embarrassing how happy it makes him feel. They bicker a bit about One Piece and who’ll win in a face off, Luffy or Goku and Minho picks Goku just to spite Jisung. They squabble like that until the librarian shushes them and then they’re giggling into their hands.
***
‘Okay, let’s go over this one more time since apparently, you’re not getting it.’ He hears a whine from the couch in response.
‘Hyung, no. I understand. I’m not stupid.’
‘Hyunjin, you tried to pet him two minutes ago.’ Minho sighs but relents. ‘Fine. You’re sure you understand?’
‘Yes. If you’re not back by six, change the water and feed him every hour or so. Yes, I get it. It’s a fish, hyung.’
He rolls his eyes. ‘There’s leftover kimchi fried rice in the fridge. Microwave it for five minutes before you eat. Seriously, don’t you dare eat it cold. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, call me if you need anything and try not to burn down the house.’
The door shuts behind him drowning out what remains of Hyunjin’s protest. Chan and Changbin left early that morning and he doubts they plan on making it back anytime soon so he’s glad the younger boy can show up under short notice although he doesn’t say that. He doubts he’ll even be needed on campus for more than a few hours but he still needs Hyunjin as a backup plan just to make sure.
On his way out, he here’s clattering coming from Jisung’s dorm and he smiles.
The year four dance crew have a showcase over the winter and his dance teacher only called him in to make sure they’ve got everything down and he can’t wait to return home to maybe spend some time with Jisung or just snuggle up to Hyunjin and go to sleep.
As predicted, he isn’t needed for more than two hours so before he knows it, he’s making his way back to the dorms. He’s in high spirits, especially with how well everything went. He’s very confident their showcase will go well and he can’t help humming to himself as he briskly turns the corner to their building.
Only, there are fire trucks outside and a body of firemen and there’s thick smoke coming from — 1, 2, 3 — his floor! His immediate thought is: oh my fucking god, Hyunjin. But it’s swallowed by relief when he finds the boy standing outside looking worried and hugging Rabbit to his chest. Their dorm master keeps staring at him in annoyance but Minho figures she had to find out one way or another.
He rushes to the boy.
‘What the fuck?’
Wide brown eyes meet his. ‘Hyung, you’re back. How’d your practice go?’
‘What the fuck did you do?’
Hyunjin does a double take. ‘What, me? You really think I caused this?’
‘Well seeing as you have a thing for not doing as you’re told and I specifically told you not to burn down the dorm, yeah.’ But relief bleeds through his voice and all of a sudden he’s pulling Hyunjin into his arms. It’s a bit awakened until he notices the fish bowl. ‘How’d you manage to grab Rabbit?’
Hyunjin shrugs. ‘Some kid was screaming about fire and he was the only thing I remembered to grab.’
A whine leaves him when Minho flicks his forehead. ‘Idiot. Next time just run, okay.’
There’s noise everywhere and lots of men in red uniforms are marching in and out of the building. All the students present are outside calling or munching on snacks. Minho’s eyes search for Jisung’s.
‘What happened anyway?’
Hyunjin shrugs. ‘All I know is it started three doors down from your room. Like from the left. Then it got the second door and the door right next to yours. They were able to stop it from spreading into your dorm, thank god. But like that’s all they could contain. They’re still trying to put out the one in the room right next to yours.’
Minho nods. His room is at the beginning of the hallway, directly outside the elevator and the room next to him is Jisung’s. He stifles a laugh at the boy coming home to find his dorm burned down then he fetches his phone to call him so he can give him an even bigger scare. Except it rings until it goes to voicemail and Minho’s eyes are scanning the heads of the students when something heavy dawns on him.
‘Wait—‘ he turns to Hyunjin. ‘Did anyone get hurt?’
Hyunjin blinks at the sudden question. ‘I don’t think so? They’ve been able to get into the other two rooms and haven’t found anyone, we’re hoping it’s the same for the room beside yours. Hey, isn’t that where that Jisung kid—‘
But he can’t finish because Minho is bolting. His legs carry him past the wide eyed students, the firemen who are screaming at him to get out of the building and they carry him up the stairs and to the fourth floor. There’s a sinking feeling inside of him. Minho is terrified, his heart is pounding furiously.
Feet slap on the carpeted hallway and he notices most of the carpet has been blackened by the fire. There’s firemen on this floor too and the smoke is intense, wafting in folds. The windows are broken open and he can feel the heat of the flames directly on his skin.
He tears a bit of the carpet off, thank god for cheap decorations and ignores the ‘hey, kid—‘ thrown his way from one of the firefighter. They’re busy with Minhyuk’s room, two doors down from Jisung’s and they don’t have time to get to him before he’s wrapping the thick cloth like material of the carpet around his hand and twisting the door knob.
Pain sears through him. The cloth does nothing to protect him but he pushes through anyway. Billows of smoke hit his face. He wonders why they closed the door, did they even bother to check? Did it ever cross their mind that maybe it wasn’t all the students down there? Maybe there was someone trapped in here who was fucking dying and not even knowing it?
He can’t see and he can barely breathe. He pushes his face into the crook of his elbow, coughing.
‘Jisung!’ He’s calling out all of a sudden, blindly reaching out in the smoke filled haze for the semblance of a human body. He runs deeper into the house, ignoring the way everything he touches burns into his skin. He can vaguely hear shouts behind him over the sound of blood rushing through his ear. ‘Sung, where are you?’
There’s no response. Of course not. The fire is roaring and licking at the wooden ceiling panes, most of them have caved. He blinks tears away, makes it past the kitchen and into the living room. It’s getting harder to breathe and his skin feels like it’s boiling. He’s praying for anything that would let him know Jisung is here and alive.
A large crackle sounds behind him and he turns around in time to recoil from PVC bursting into flames, filling the room with even thicker smoke.
‘Where are you!?’ He feels like he’s using the last breath in his lungs to scream but he doesn’t care.
Makes it into the hallway and there are three doors. One’s the bathroom, he knows that from the amount of times he’s been here but in his haze, he forgets which of the other two belongs to Changbin and which one belongs to Jisung. The smoke is heavier here and there’s fire on the walls, eating away at the wallpaper. He has to be careful not to let it catch on his clothes. He drops to the ground and shouts again, terrified.
He’s almost sure he’ll here, begins to wonder what on Earth possessed him to walk straight into the fire. But his ears pick up on shuffling behind the third door and he’s sure he hears something.
A croak. ‘Minho-hyung?’
And suddenly there’s a burst of joy travelling through him that has him picking to his feet, forgetful of the flames.
‘Sungie, it’s me! It’s me, are you okay? I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? Can you open the door for me?’
There’s silence for a second and his heart is in his throat. Then a cough. ‘It’s locked and I— I can’t find the key, hyung. The bed’s on fire and I can’t—‘ Jisung coughs again, cutting himself off.
‘Okay, okay, I’m gonna break it down okay? I need you to move a little. Have you?’ There’s a small yes and Minho’s choking on smoke. His vision is beginning to blur.
The hallway with the rooms are cramped because it’s a dorm and he barely has enough space to give himself a start. Without thinking, he pushes into the walls and stifles a scream when the flame engulfed wallpaper presses into his back. He runs toward the door and gives it a hard kick. There’s a pain in his shin but it does budge. He does it again, and again. Nothing.
He feels like his lungs are more smoke than air now. He wants to give up, curl on the floor and succumb to whatever his fate is bound to be but then he hears Jisung, small and obviously hurt and he thinks of the fact that he would not be able to feel it, how he would not even know when the fire slowly travels up his body and Minho is screaming and kicking the door with every bit of force he can muster. It’s cracks and an a cute pain attacks him. So he uses his shoulder. The door is the wall is on fire and half of his clothes are ashy nothing but when he rams into it for the nth time and it flies open and he finds Jisung unmoving on the floor of a room half on fire, he doesn’t even care how much it burns as he rushes in and drapes the boy over his back.
A tiny cough is the only way he knows Jisung is breathing but the happiness that one sound gives him is intense. So he makes sure Jisung is wrapped around him sturdily and he makes it out of the hallway and into the living room.
Only, a large part of the ceiling has caved in and the fire has risen and Minho cannot find the door. He pauses for long enough to look at the flames and know that if he stays there one more second, they’re going to die so he does the stupidest thing he can think of and runs straight through the hazard.
He can feel it tearing at his flesh and for the first time in his life, he’s happy that Han Jisung cannot feel pain.
When he makes it out, the door is open and the firemen are preparing to enter. His eyes catch something that looks like a sobbing Hyunjin and someone yelling for the paramedics but he cannot keep them open any longer so he allows himself to collapse.
Arms wrap around him. He’s glad it’s winter because at least for a second, he remembers the cold.
***
He wakes up at intervals; inside the ambulance, on the stretcher, in the hospital with white bright lights blinding him. He’s out of it every single time, barely remembers what he sees.
But he remembers asking for Jisung everytime.
***
He comes to two days later.
It’s late in the night. He can tell because it’s quiet. The hospital bed feels springy beneath his back and there’s a heaviness on his hand. It takes every ounce of strength inside of him to turn and find Chan, sitting on a chair next to the bed, holding his arm and asleep in a position that looks terribly uncomfortable.
Hyunjin is here too, sprawled out on a bed on the floor with Felix in his arms. On the larger couch, he catches his parents. They’re passed out as well. He can’t be sure but he thinks there’s tear streaks on his father’s eyes. Changbin is there, too, on another bed with — is that Seungmin? And some other kid Minho doesn’t know. It fills him with warm feelings and also confusion because who on earth allowed such a large number of people sleep over at the hospital (but then he remembers his mother is a resident nurse and that’s maybe why the grey walls look familiar).
Then he hears shuffling and turns again to find Han Jisung awake, on the bed beside him and already staring intently. Minho startles and the monitor beside him picks up.
‘Jesus Christ.’ His voice feel heavy and dry, underused.
‘Hi, hyung.’ There’s something in Jisung’s tone that makes Minho ache. All of a sudden, he misses the boy’s bright smile.
He manages a smile instead. ‘Hey. How’re you feeling?’
An awkward shrug. Jisung evades eye contact. ‘I should be asking you that.’
‘I feel like what I assume people who take coke do. Like I’m not even inside my own body.’ The words are getting easier to push out, though he has to talk a bit slower than usual.
He hears a shuddering breath from beside him and turns to find Chan stirring, smiles to himself.
‘It’s the drugs, I think. The nurse just kept pumping it into you. She said waking up to intense pain could shock you into a coma.’ Jisung’s voice is now barely above a whisper.
‘Oh.’ For the first time, he looks, or struggles to, look down at himself and almost choked when he finds gauzes and bandages littered around his skin. His feet is bare and he can almost feel a slight tingle from his shin down to his toes where gauze runs straight through. He turns to Jisung and finds him almost in the same state and says again for lack of better words, ‘oh.’
There’s a squeeze on his arm and he’s soon staring at a teary eyed Bang Chan. Minho wants to say something, a joke maybe, because he’s not sure he can endure Chan crying. But he doesn’t, knows how delicate the situation is, so he only smiles and squeezes back.
‘You’re awake.’ Chan whispers it as if it’s unbelievable. Minho swallows, makes to speak but the next words make him still. ‘I didn’t think you would.’
Oh. He blinks once, again, doesn’t know what to do or say.
Tears have slipped past Chan’s eyes. ‘The doctors said you’d be fine but I— I didn’t think they were telling the truth. Because you’d sustained so many injuries and you’d inhaled so much smoke and what if…what—‘ he squeezes Minho’s hand a bit too tightly, shutting his eyes. Minho watches his Adam’s apple bob, watches in real time as a sob rips out of him. ‘I just had to prepare for the possibility that they were lying.’
Then Chan is crying into the side of the bed and Minho is frozen with worry, frozen with ‘what do I do?’ He hates this, the pain he’s obviously put Chan, everyone who loves him through. He hadn’t thought about it when he rushed through the door: there was only one thing on his mind and it was the fact that Han Jisung might possibly be but I guess to death and it overruled all else.
He didn’t even entertain the possibility that maybe Jisung wasn’t in. What if he’d gone to get something before the fire started? What if he’d decided to hook up with that one guy instead? And him, why couldn’t he just tell the firemen that there was a chance a living human was trapped in the room? If he’d stopped and thought for only a second, maybe he could’ve avoided being in the hospital entirely witch Chan crying so heavily and surely more to come when the rest of his loved ones wake up.
But if he’d stopped and thought for only a second, Han Jisung might not be here. And it doesn’t matter, he realises, how many hospital rooms he has to go through, if he had to, he would do it all over again.
His hand find Chan’s hair and they caress.
‘I’m here.’ He repeats the words Chan usually does when he’s in one of his headspace and needs to be grounded. ‘Can you feel me? It’s me, here, touching you, talking to you. I’m here, I promise.’
It becomes a mantra until Chan calms down but Minho isn’t only repeating it to the older boy. He glances at Jisung who has tears in his eyes, probably has had tears in his eyes for a long time. ‘I’m here,’ he says.
In the middle of Chan apologising, Hyunjin wakes up. And then he bangs his head on the wall when he sees Minho’s awake which inadvertently wakes Felix up and then he starts complaining in his deep, loud voice and Changbin is up in a second then Seungmin who kicks Minho’s father in the leg while he tries to scramble up. His dad yelps and wakes his mom who blinks in annoyance. The other kid he doesn’t recognise sleeps through it all. It’s like a cataclysm honestly and Minho can’t hide the laugh that bubbles in his chest.
It hurts a bit, he’s breathless quickly but he can’t control another wheeze when everyone immediately turns to him with comically wide eyes. He’s gasping for breath. Chan is laughing too, a bit. And there’s a scoff from Jisung.
The disaster only continues as they all quickly get up, determined to reach him at the same time. His mother scolds them all and they’re soon sitting back down, sulking. She sends Hyunjin to go get a nurse and they more or less fuss over him until she comes.
Minho’s happy none of them are crying because he can maybe handle one person tearing up not an entire room of people.
The doctor comes in, gives him the load down. Minho’s been at hospitals enough times, sick or not, to know where and where to pay attention to. He recognises the doctor, a friend of his mother and something pangs in his chest as he wonders how his mother felt, probably on her shift, when she was told her son was in the emergency room. He decides not to think about it.
It goes like this: he collapses from too much smoke inhalation and low oxygen levels (9 percent, apparently) and he suffered a varying degree of burns mostly on his lower back and leg which caught on fire without his notice. There’s a few scratches and cuts on his elbow and his eyebrow got a bit synched but luckily everything else is more or less intact. He’s been at the hospital under watch and in stable condition for three days in a medically induced coma.
Jisung suffered less than him due to the window in his room being open when an electrical unit caught on fire and spread through his dorm. He dropped to the floor quickly and made good use of the dwindling oxygen. He did get burned but luckily not as much as Minho which is why he recovers a bit faster and doesn’t stay asleep for long.
The information is all a bit too much to take in so he’s told in bits pieces. The doctor says it’s better that way so he doesn’t get overwhelmed.
Eventually, his parents leave after being assured that yes, he’s fine and no, he isn’t going to die overnight. Seungmin and that one kid who he comes to learn is called Jeongin follow soon after because they have an early flight to catch to Busan in a couple of hours and soon it’s just him, Jisung, Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix who’s fallen back asleep.
Four in the morning, that’s what Chan tells him when he asks for the time. He whines for them to go home and get some rest and he means it, really, it’s not like he mostly want to talk to Jisung who’s been quiet ever since everyone else woke up.
Eventually, they relent.
Through a lot of grumbling.
‘You better still be here when I come back.’ Chan, who’s being gently coaxed out of the room by Changbin. Minho wonders what went down in that concert and how long it’ll take for him to be released so he can probe.
‘Goodnight, hyung.’ Changbin says to him and turns to Jisung. ‘We’ll be back tomorrow, okay?’
A nod and then he’s pulling Chan who’s grumbling something about ‘I leave you alone for one day and you almost die in a fire.’ out of the door. Minho laughs to himself.
‘Hey, Rabbit is okay, right?’ He calls out to Hyunjin who’s piggybacking Felix, ready to leave.
The younger boy freezes. ‘What’re you talking about?’
His eyes narrow. ‘Rabbit? Chan’s pet fish? You were watching him a few days ago, I’m sure it rings a bell.’
An awkward laugh. ‘Wow, the drugs they fed you is really making you delirious, hyung. Chan doesn’t have a pet fish and I definitely have never watched it before. Haha, I should go. Goodnight, sleep well! Get better soon.’
Minho’s exasperated yells follow him outside of the door. He vows to Vincent van Gogh him. His hit list really is growing daily.
The room is suddenly quiet when Hyunjin shuts the door behind him and Minho tries not to be too aware of the fact that Jisung is on the bed on the other side of the room. He stares at the ceiling illuminated by the faint white light streaming through the glass on the door. If he strains hard enough, he can hear the faint muffle of Hyunjin’s voice dying down the hall.
He waits for Jisung to speak but he doesn’t. He braved a peek if only to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep. He hasn’t.
‘Are you okay?’ He mouths around the word, careful.
Silence rings for a minute, his heart is in his throat for some reason. A million possibilities race through his head. Is Jisung mad at him?
‘Why did you come find me?’
That’s not what he’s expecting at all.
Stunned, he asks. ‘What?’
The younger boy wastes no time. ‘In the dorm. Why did you come find me? You could’ve just let me die.’
‘Hey, don’t say that.’ An ugliness curls inside of him. ‘Of course I wouldn’t leave you to die, Sung. Especially by fire, that’s morbid.’
‘I wouldn’t have felt it.’
There, he doesn’t hear Jisung say. It’s out in the open.
‘I wouldn’t— I can’t feel pain. It would’ve felt like a light sting and nothing more.’
Minho sighs. ‘I know.’
The other boy’s head snaps to him. ‘You do?’
He nods. ‘Of course, I’m not dumb, Sung. Took me a while and a lot of assumptions but I figured. I’ve witnessed you get hurt and not notice too many times.’ The ceiling becomes oddly interesting again. ‘I think that’s why I did it.’
Jisung turns to him.
‘I was terrified,’ Minho says. ‘That something so horrible could be happening to you and you wouldn’t even realise. I didn’t want you to go out like that, you don’t deserve it. And I— I wasn’t really thinking but I guess, even if I couldn’t help anything, I just didn’t want you to be alone.’
A cry fills the room and Minho lets it be. He doesn’t try to comfort Jisung, isn’t sure that’s what the younger boy needs right now. So he just lays there, stares at the ceiling and makes sure Jisung isn’t alone.
***
‘What was your first assumption.’
Minho looks up from his phone and gives a distracted hum. ‘Of what?’
They’re walking back from the office where they have their daily breathing exercises. Today is diaphragmatic and Minho is sure the air tastes a bit different, fresher. He’s texting Chan to reassure him that he’s not going to die in the twenty minutes it takes to reach home from the hospital.
They’ll be getting discharged later today after being at the hospital for more than a week and Minho is aching to do something without being assisted by one of his friends for the first time. It helps that they’re all a bit busy even though Chan claims he can totally leave his internship appointment to come pick Minho up. He’s not allowing it, obviously.
‘Me.’ Jisung breaks him out of thought. ‘Last week you said you had a lot of assumptions before you realised the lack of pain thing. What was your first?’
Minho has to fight really hard not to turn scarlet. ‘You really don’t want to know.’
Wide eyes and Jisung is almost bouncing now. Minho has to hold his wrist to stop him because they doctor said not to strain themselves too much.
‘I promise you, I do!’
He rolls his eyes and battles a long-suffering sigh. ‘Fine.’ He mutters and then mumbles the rest.
‘Sorry, what was that?’
‘I said, I thought you had a pain kink.’
They get a couple of side eyes from the hospital staff and Minho wants to shrivel up and die. He didn’t realise how loud he was. Jisung, though, doesn’t seem to care because his eyes are shining and his lips are stretched so wide and Minho doesn’t know if he want to punch or kiss away the shit-eating grin.
‘You thought I had a pain kink?’
‘As I’ve mentioned, yes.’
They’re almost to their door when Jisung doubled over laughing. He wheezes so hard, Minho’s worried for a second. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘I don’t know, okay.’ Minho gestures wildly. ‘But can you blame me? You never reacted to any pain and I thought you’d like maxed out your pain levels or something. Like maybe only a certain amount of pain could get to you.’
He’s flustered and Jisung is biting back giggles and he wants to die. He opens the hospital door and trudges inside.
‘Don’t laugh at me.’
‘I’m—‘ Jisung gasps. ‘I’m sorry, hyung. It’s just, why? That doesn’t even make any sense. I don’t think a person can max out their pain levels.’
‘Shut up.’
Jisung’s lips press into a thin line as if afraid he’ll burst out laughing again. ‘Sorry.’ He breathes through his nose and then his eyes are widening. ‘Wait— wait, if that’s what you thought then what did you think happened when you dropped a watermelon on my leg. That’s for sure high pain levels that even a person who maxed out would be able to feel. Did you think I walked to my room to get off.’
Minho can’t bear it anymore. He launches a pillow at Jisung’s head and it hits him square in the face.
‘Oh, hyung.’ The little shit moans exaggeratedly. ‘Yes, yes, more.’
Two minutes later, nurses are rushing in after the bloodcurdling scream Jisung lets out.
They check out a few hours later and leave after saying goodbye to Minho’s mother who’s more or less he’ll meet an untimely demise outside of the hospital. People really need to start trusting him more.
Comfortable silence spreads around them as they walk for a while. It’s late afternoon and the sound of cars fills in the first few minutes. He’s content like this.
‘Hey, hyung did you hear? Your cat cafe is closed for winter break and we can’t go to Jeongin’s dad’s coffee shop because they’re back in Busan for the holiday too.’
Great. Absolutely fucking great. The thought of starting his day without coffee already has him feeling sour.
‘But I know another coffee shop we can go to.’ Jisung said excitedly, adjusting the beanie on his head.
He snorts. ‘Yeah, right. You have bad taste in coffee, Jeongin’s shop is the only exception.’
Jisung smiles, that brilliant sunshine one, as if he was hoping Minho would say those exact words. ‘You’re right. My taste is so horrible. I guess we’ll just have to keep going on infinite coffee dates until we find the right one.’
A laugh bubbles out of Jisung and he reaches out to help Minho from tripping over nothing. His eyes are shining and Minho likes him so much it’s painful.
‘Fine.’ He grumbles, hides a smile behind his overgrown hair.
***
minho:
han fucking jisung
hyunjin:
i knew you’d be back