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Jisung and his brother Felix had absolutely nothing in common. They had been hearing that ever since they were kids. Even though they were twins, they looked and acted completely different. That didn’t mean they weren’t best friends though. They were constantly attached at the hip, even now as they entered college. 

Felix had received a scholarship to play on the baseball team as their starting catcher, and being just a freshman, that was pretty impressive. It was a great school, and their parents were incredibly proud of him. 

Jisung had finished in the top ten of his class, number three to be exact. He received scholarships from many different schools, but he enrolled as a literature major at the same college as Felix, deciding that he wasn’t ready to be away from him just yet. Besides, it was a good school, and it was closer to home.

“Are you sure you want to go there?” Felix had asked as they threw a baseball around in the backyard. Jisung wasn’t great at sports, but Felix never complained as long as he had someone to play with him.

He knew Felix was concerned, thinking that the only reason he chose to go there was because of him, but he assured him that it wasn’t the only reason.

“Yeah, it’s a great school, and who else would help you pass your classes if I decided to go somewhere else?” he teased. That made Felix laugh as Jisung accidentally threw the baseball into the dirt. 

“True.” He shrugged his shoulders, not even denying it. 

Because once again, they were brothers, but they were nothing alike. Felix was terrible at school, so Jisung helped him out with his studies. Jisung wasn’t very athletic, but Felix was always trying to teach him how to throw a baseball better. Felix was outgoing, confident and the biggest extrovert. Jisung was quiet, and only extroverted when he needed to be. He liked to keep to himself, and surrounded himself with just a few people. He had more books than he did friends. Meanwhile, Felix had so many friends he couldn’t even keep track of them. 

But Felix always invited him to hang out. They were attached at the hip, always trying things the other liked. Felix had agreed to tag along to a paint night last week, and he hadn’t even complained about it, even though Jisung could see that he hated every single minute, dying for it to end. Which is why Jisung had agreed to come to his first baseball practice on campus. 

“It’ll be fun,” Felix tried to entice him, even though he wasn’t going to say no anyway. He knew that Felix was thrilled to start the season. He had loved baseball ever since they were kids. He was a pro from the get go—a star athlete. People thought that Jisung would be too. His parents even put him in tee ball with Felix when they were younger, but needless to say it didn’t really work out. It was funny whenever people thought that just because Felix excelled at sports, he did too—because Jisung could barely throw a baseball correctly. 

They had just finished setting up everything in their dorms, but they were upset that the university wouldn’t let them room together. Even though they had requested it, they denied it, saying all room assignments were chosen through the university. 

It was totally lame. 

“You can just sleep in my room,” Felix had smiled at him, making Jisung roll his eyes.

“There’s no way we’ll both fit on your twin sized mattress.”

“They named the mattress after us, of course we’ll fit,” he joked, and Jisung chuckled. 

Because even though Felix was outgoing and the friendliest person in the entire world, Jisung was still his rock. If you were to ask him, Felix relied on Jisung a lot more. Technically, Jisung was older, being born fifteen minutes earlier than him—so maybe it was expected for him to take care of him a little more. When Jisung had contemplated going to another school, he saw the anxious expression on Felix’s face. No one would have known the true feelings behind that fake smile, besides Jisung. 

He had grinned at him, telling him he would help him with his admissions. That made the thought of going somewhere else completely wash away. 

Which is how Jisung found himself sitting on the bleachers with a book in his hand, as he watched Felix strap on his catcher's gear. He yawned, feeling a little exhausted from the day, and not really in the mood to sit there and watch a bunch of athletes practice. 

Felix came over for a moment, tapping his mit on his shoulder to grab his attention.

“Hi,” he said, and Jisung smiled up at him. He could see him biting harshly at his bottom lip. 

“You’re nervous.” he stated, and Felix flushed a little. 

“A bit…” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder, “the starting pitcher here is super famous in the league, remember I had talked about him before? He’s like…a prodigy, and I think he’s pissed that he’s getting caught by a freshman and not the senior he played with last year.” 

Jisung didn’t like that hurt expression on his face. He had remembered him mentioning some really talented guy on the team, but honestly he was reading at the time, and not listening much. 

“What? Why? You worked hard for that position and you’re playing it because you’re better.”

“Jisung…keep it down, please,” he begged, looking around anxiously. The one thing Felix hated was confrontation. Even though Jisung was quiet, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get feisty if he needed to—especially when someone was making his brother feel like shit. 

“Don’t be nervous. Who cares what that guy thinks,” he assured him, and he could see Felix grin softly. 

“You’ll watch, right?” he asked, looking at the book in Jisung’s hands. He quickly closed it, and placed it to the side. 

“I will.” He nodded, and Felix gave him an appreciative smile. 

Just because he didn’t particularly like baseball, didn’t mean he knew nothing about it. He had been watching Felix play since he was three, and going to almost every single game with his parents to watch him. 

“Hey!” someone screamed angrily from the mound. They both flinched, and Jisung glared as he looked towards the infield. “Practice started, so get your ass over here.” 

The guy was fixing his red and white baseball cap on his head and tucking his black hair behind his ears. Jisung could see from where he was sitting that he had a deep irritated scowl on his face. He was looking right at Felix, but Jisung felt his heart skip a beat when his gaze slid over to him.

Jisung felt his insides quiver as their eyes connected. He was staring right at him, and his eyes narrowed in. Jisung didn’t let up his irked frown though. 

“Coming!” Felix shouted, in that kind and complacent voice of his. Jisung wanted to roll his eyes. Felix hated arguments, he hated drama, and he could clearly see the stare down the two of them were having and was getting uncomfortable. He could tell by the pleading look he shot in his direction before jogging over to where that guy had snapped at him. 

Unfortunately, Jisung couldn’t look away because even though the guy was rude as hell, his face didn’t match his ugly attitude. He was drop dead gorgeous, and Jisung bit his lip, hating himself for thinking that way. 

He could see Felix crouch down behind home plate, with his glove up and ready. He told Felix he would watch him, but his eyes were stuck on the pitcher who had glowered at him just moments ago. Jisung’s mouth dropped open a little as he watched his fluid movements, releasing the ball quickly, and hearing the loud smack of it hitting the back of Felix’s glove. 

He could see Felix fall back a little bit, having to place his hand down on the dirt to keep himself steady. Jisung’s eye twitched as he watched a tiny smirk form on the pitcher's face. 

That wasn’t your average college pitcher’s ball speed. 

If Felix didn’t have his mask covering his face, he bet he could see his amazed eyes. He definitely wasn’t in high school anymore, and he wasn’t sure if he had ever caught a pitch that fast. He looked a little anxious as he threw the ball back to the mound. The pitcher caught it easily, even though Felix threw it a little right due to being flustered. 

Jisung couldn’t take his eyes off the pitcher again. He lined up, his shoulders relaxing, his head checking the bags even though there were no runners on the bases. Jisung clenched his hands when the ball smacked off the top of Felix’s glove, rolling to the backstop behind him. 

“If you can’t catch a high curve then I’m not sure what you’re even doing here,” he could hear the pitcher complain as he placed an annoyed hand on his hip. Felix was rushing to grab the ball back, and Jisung was starting to get pissed. 

“Sorry—I wasn’t expecting it,” Felix apologized. 

“You should be able to catch whatever I throw no matter what. You just let the runners advance,” he chided, pointing to the imaginary players near the bags. Jisung hated his shitty tone. 

“Right, sorry,” he repeated, crouching back into position. 

Jisung almost snapped when the pitcher scoffed at him—but he had to keep his cool because Felix wouldn’t appreciate him interrupting his practice to kick the guy right in the dick. 

By the end of practice, Jisung’s teeth were threatening to break since he had been grinding them so hard. Felix was struggling to keep up, and Jisung wanted to go out there and wring that pitcher’s neck. All he did was yell at him when he messed up, and he knew he wasn’t bothering to help him either. He kept throwing insanely fast pitches, making Felix look bad when their coach stopped over to watch them practice. 

Felix looked dejected when it was over, with the sweat pouring down his face. The pitcher didn’t even say anything to him when Felix tried to say goodbye. 

And Jisung hated him. This guy was a total asshole. 

Jisung’s morning classes went well. It was their first day, and he had promised to meet Felix for lunch out near the courtyard. The one thing Jisung really liked about the campus was the greenery. There were flowers, trees and beautiful plants everywhere. The courtyard had tons of picnic benches, and he rushed over to where he could see Felix sitting. 

“Hey,” he greeted. He was expecting a giant smile, but when he looked at him, he could see the stress on his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, and Felix placed his face in his hands. 

“You’re never going to believe this,” he grumbled, as Jisung shucked his bag off his shoulders and placed it on the bench. “You know the pitcher from yesterday’s practice?” 

“Um, yeah, that fucking piece of shit asshole who was rude as fuck to you?” he swore, and Felix sighed deeply. He always had a bit of a temper. Felix was a little more patient. 

“Well, when I got back to the dorms, guess who was sitting on the bed across from mine.” 

Jisung’s mouth hung open a little.

“You’re joking.” 

“Dead serious. We’re roommates, and he hates me and he thinks I suck at baseball.” Felix rested his head on the table, and Jisung hated seeing his brother so upset. He was so exhausted after yesterday that he said he had wanted to just go back to his dorm and get some rest. Jisung didn’t push him, wanting to finish reading the book he couldn’t read at his practice anyway. 

“Lix…” he had no idea what to say. 

“He literally didn’t say anything to me either. He just…glared at me and then scrolled on his phone until he went to bed.” 

Jisung had no idea how to make him feel better, but he couldn’t take that sad frown on his face. 

“Look, I don’t know what his problem is, but maybe he’ll come around. You said he’s just pissed because the catcher he worked with last year lost his position to you, right?” he asked, and Felix shrugged, lifting his head from the table. 

“Yeah, his name is Chan. He was the starting catcher last year. He’s a senior this year and I’m playing instead of him. I think he and Minho are like, best friends. I saw them talking and laughing together after practice.” 

Minho.  

So that was the asshole's name then. 

“Well, it’s bull that he’s treating you like shit just because he’s pissed his friend isn’t better than you,” Jisung scoffed, and that made Felix smile a little bit. 

“I guess I would be upset too…you know, if I didn’t get to start my senior year.” 

Typical Felix, always trying to understand and be kind to others. 

“Well, the other catcher isn’t treating you like shit too, is he?” Felix questioned as he took out his lunch so he could start stuffing his face. He was starving. 

“No, Chan is actually super nice. He was giving me advice and stuff yesterday,” he told him, and that made Jisung scowl. 

“Okay, well clearly this Minho guy is a huge asshole, so just ignore him.” 

“Jisung—” Felix tried to interrupt him, but Jisung wouldn’t let him. 

“Seriously, you’re one of the best baseball players I know. You were the star of the high school team and you have a scholarship to play here. I think this guy is just a selfish dick, and since he’s not getting his way he’s throwing a fit like a brat and taking it out on you.”

“And who the fuck are you?” 

An irritated voice startled him from behind. Felix looked absolutely terrified as he looked above his head. Jisung turned around to the pitcher from yesterday glaring down at him with piercing eyes. Jisung shivered a little. Those eyes were intense, staring right through him. 

Jisung wanted to answer, but suddenly all the words he thought he would be able to snap back at him were caught in his throat as he leaned down in his face. 

“Would you like to say that to my face, sweetheart?” Jisung was surprised at the smirk on his lips. He felt the air leave his lungs as he placed his foot on the bench beside him, getting impossibly closer. 

“Minho, I—” Felix tried to speak, but Minho's eyes flicked over to him with a glare. 

“I came over here to tell you that we’re practicing earlier than the rest of the team today, so be there at five. If you can’t catch my pitches properly before the first game, then you’re not starting.” His tone was stern and cold, and Jisung couldn’t believe that he couldn’t find his voice still. 

“Okay. I’ll be there.” Felix almost sounded scared. 

“And leave your boyfriend at home. He’s nothing but a distraction.” 

Jisung flinched when Minho’s eyes looked him up and down. He pulled away before Jisung could say something, shoving his bag onto his shoulder and stalking away. 

Jisung’s mouth was hanging open, blinking after him in shock. When he turned back to Felix, his face was in his hands again. 

“Fuck, now he really hates me,” he groaned, and Jisung was still stunned by his words.

“H—He’s such an asshole. I should have punched him ,” Jisung seethed, his face burning hot now. He hadn’t even realized he was blushing so hard—but Minho was even prettier and breathtaking up close, and Jisung wanted to rip out his brain and throw it onto the grass for even thinking that. 

“You’re lucky he didn’t punch you… you were the one talking shit about him,” Felix grumbled, and Jisung scoffed. 

“Well, thanks for the warning that he was right behind me!” 

“You were already ranting by the time I saw him!” he argued, and Jisung sighed. He couldn’t believe he just got caught slandering him behind his back—even if he meant everything he said. He shivered as he thought about those big brown eyes again, looking at him fiercely. 

Well, he couldn’t take it back now. So what if he hated him too. He didn’t give a shit about some overrated jock asshole anyway. He groaned and shoved his mouth full of rice. 

Felix started eating too, but Jisung could see that his anxiety about practice later was ruining his appetite. Jisung knew he was going to worry about it for the rest of the day. Felix didn’t like it when people didn’t like him. 

“Did you want to grab some barbecue before we go to your practice later?” he asked then, hoping Felix would cheer up if they talked about his favorite food.

“You should probably not come. I’ll just stop by your dorm after practice,” Felix said then, and Jisung scowled. There was no way he was about to let this guy bully them.

“I’m coming to your practice,” he declared, and that made Felix flinch. 

“Jisung…I don’t want to piss him off…” he trailed off, knowing he was conflicted. He wanted him there, he knew he did, but he was letting this guy get into his head.

“If I want to come watch my brother’s baseball practice, then I’m going to. There’s no way I’m going to let him tell me what I can and can’t do, and you shouldn’t either,” he snapped, because that stupid smirk on Minho’s face was now popping into his thoughts. His pretty plump top lip was teasing his mind, and Jisung needed to turn his brain off completely. 

Felix sighed, but nodded his head. 

“Okay…” he sounded reluctant, but Felix knew that once Jisung made up his mind, it was hard to change it. That, and he also hated being told what to do. 

“Now give me the rest of your rice if you’re not going to eat it.” 

That made Felix chuckle, shoving it into his mouth and shaking his head. Jisung smiled, knowing just how to get him to eat. 

Minho wasn’t happy. Jisung could see the irritation on his face as he showed up with Felix at the baseball field. He was talking with the other catcher, Chan, and Jisung could see Felix tensing up beside him. 

“Don’t let him get in your head,” he reminded him. He was starting to get a little worried. He knew that Felix had looked up to Minho, remembering him talking about how amazing he was as a pitcher. He had been excited to play with him this season, but ever since that first day of practice, that had changed significantly. He had never seen him so stressed in his entire life. Felix loved baseball, and Jisung was damned if he was going to let some asshole take that happiness away from him.

Even though he probably wasn’t helping the situation by showing up to their practice after he clearly instructed him to stay away. Too bad Jisung wasn’t ever a good listener. There was also no way he was backing down—especially when it came to a jerk like him.

He brought his book with him, even though he had no intention of reading it. Felix gave him a tight smile before making his way into the catcher’s box. Chan had waved at Felix sweetly, but Minho was throwing the ball into his mitt, like he was annoyed.

He must have felt Jisung’s scowl on him, because his head turned immediately to where he was sitting on the bench with his arms folded over his chest. That annoyed face went dark, and Jisung tried his best not to let it make his heart rate speed up. 

Jisung was relieved that Felix seemed to be catching mostly everything Minho was throwing at him. Jisung hated to admit that he was incredibly impressed at how fast he could throw the ball. That seemed to be the only pitch he was throwing today though, as Jisung watched him endlessly. He was honestly captivated, as he threw fastball after fastball, and Jisung wondered if Felix’s hand was starting to sting. 

“Minho, quit throwing at full speed like that every time, you’re going to hurt yourself or throw out your shoulder.” Jisung could hear Chan yell at him from the sidelines. Minho looked like he wasn’t even listening, as he wound up and threw as hard as he could again. His fastball was smacking so hard into Felix’s mitt that Jisung winced every time he heard it. 

Jisung watched as Felix threw the ball back over and over. It looked like he was finally getting the hang of Minho’s speed. Although, not only did Minho have a wicked fastball, his curveballs were just as nasty. He was changing up pitches now, and the ball dropped from the center of the plate and all the way down into the lower corner of the strike zone. Felix had barely stopped it from getting by him. 

“Curve, low and outside. Every time I throw it, you can barely catch it. When I’m up in the count, I throw that a lot, so you need to learn how to stop it,” he demanded, and Felix took a deep sighing breath. 

That made Minho take his glove off, stomping forward and off the mound.  

“Do we have a problem?” he growled, and Felix shook his head back and forth quickly. 

“N—No, I’ll catch it—”

“Will you? I’ve thrown it at least ten times and you’ve maybe caught it twice.” 

Jisung was getting really tired of his attitude. 

“Minho, take a break,” Chan interrupted him then. Minho spun on his heel, kicking the dirt off his cleats before returning to the bench. He made his way to the dugout, and Jisung desperately wanted to go over there and confront him for being an unreasonable asshole. Half the time he wasn’t even telling Felix which pitches he was throwing, having him guess as to where the pitches were going to land. He knew Felix would get upset if he said something, so he held himself back. 

He looked over to see Chan smiling brightly at Felix, trying to show him how to catch that stupid curveball of Minho’s. He probably wouldn’t have a problem catching it if he knew it was coming. Felix was talented, and Minho was trying his best to break him down. 

He couldn’t see Minho anymore as he trudged down to the dugout dramatically and out of sight. He was clearly pissed that Chan had told him to take a rest. Jisung rolled his eyes at his once again shitty attitude. 

He watched as Chan and Felix tossed the ball back and forth, having a small conversation. He couldn’t hear what they were saying though, but at least Felix was smiling now. He definitely seemed to be a little more relaxed now that the pitcher was off the mound. He had no idea why Minho was trying to sabotage him. He knew that Chan was a senior and his friend, but he had no right to treat Felix like absolute shit because of it. 

His eyes flickered over to the dugout curiously, and Jisung jumped a little as he could see Minho staring right at him. He couldn’t help but look behind him, and to even to his left and his right, just to confirm that he was looking at him, and not someone else. When he realized that all the space around him was empty, he let his gaze travel back towards him. He was still looking directly at him with a hard unreadable stare.

It took everything in Jisung’s power not to flip him off. He also wasn’t sure why he couldn’t look away. He felt his heart racing, and his stomach flipped when he saw Minho bouncing up the steps and out of the dugout. He thought maybe he was about to head back to the mound, but he was shocked when he was sauntering right over to him. 

Jisung’s mind was starting to whirl, because why was he looking at him like that? And why was Minho coming right towards him? Maybe he was still pissed about what he had said earlier and he was going to demand an apology—but that didn’t explain the smirk on his face as he got closer and closer. Before he could process what was happening, Minho stomped up and kneeled right in front of him. 

“It looked like you had something to say, so I thought I’d come over here and let you bitch to my face this time.” 

Jisung wasn’t sure why his words were caught in his throat again. His heart was hammering, and he thought it was kind of unfair that Minho got to be this athletic and gorgeous.

“What’s the problem? Now you have nothing to say? You were so chatty earlier in the courtyard.” 

He took a sharp intake of breath before glaring at him. 

“I have no problem calling you an asshole to your face if that’s what you want,” he hissed, and Jisung was surprised to hear him chuckle. 

“I’m a selfish dick and an asshole now, huh?” 

Jisung hated that his heart was beating so fast, but those pretty eyelashes blinking at him were making it hard to breathe. 

“You can add being an inconsiderate jerk, too,” he snapped. Minho smirked even wider. Jisung gasped a little as Minho’s hand came up to grab his chin. He hoped he couldn’t hear his unsteady breathing, but he couldn’t help it when he tapped his thumb against it. 

“Now, what would your boyfriend say if he heard you flirting with me like that?” 

That made Jisung burn red. 

“He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my brother, you idiot.” He slapped his hand away, and something in Minho’s expression immediately changed. His head flicked over to Felix, and then back to him. 

“You two are pretty close,” he mentioned, and Jisung rolled his eyes. 

“We’re fraternal twins.” He had no idea why they were even still talking.  

“You guys look nothing alike.” 

“That’s why I said fraternal and not identical, dumbass.” 

Minho smirked again. 

“You’re feisty, aren’t you?”

Jisung wasn’t sure why that embarrassed him. 

“No, I just don’t like you because you’re a dick.”

Minho glared at him then. He could feel himself burning red, and he wished he would back up a bit. He was too close. Minho must not have liked his response because he looked pissed again. 

“Look, why don’t you shut that sassy mouth of yours and get out of here. You’re distracting.” 

Minho stood up then, like he was getting ready to head back to the mound. Jisung was getting more irritated by the second. This guy had some nerve.

“Distracting? I’m not distracting him. I always come support him for his games and practices so why don’t you—”

“You’re distracting me ,” he interrupted him, and that made Jisung’s heart ricochet inside his chest. 

“W—What?” he asked, but Minho didn’t say anything else. He just tapped his head with his mitt, and Jisung made a disgruntled sound as it messed up his hair. 

Jisung could see Felix watching them, a concerned look on his face as he noticed them in conversation. He was definitely going to ask him about it later. 

Jisung was flustered as Minho jogged back to the mound without saying anything else, and without giving him any explanation for his words. 

Minho was still acting like a jerk for the rest of their private practice, especially when he realized that Jisung was still sitting on the bleachers. He could see him getting irritated as his pitches started to become a little wild, landing everywhere but the strike zone. When the rest of the team showed up, they switched to batting drills, giving Felix a break from his wrath. 

Jisung wanted to roll his eyes, seeing that Minho was just as good at hitting as he was pitching. He really was an ace on the field. 

He couldn’t help notice that Minho kept looking over at him, and Jisung had to glance away every time as he would get caught staring. 

But it wasn't his fault that Minho had his mind on fire from his words earlier. 

You’re distracting me.

Because what the hell did he mean by that?

Jisung loved reading. It was his favorite thing to do in his free time. Unlike Felix, who he was pretty sure had never picked up a book a day in his life.

The one thing he was disappointed about when he moved into the dorms, was that he couldn’t bring his book shelves with him. They were lined with all his favorites and the classics he liked to read over and over again. He only had a small shelf in his dorm room, so he took with him his top five reads, and a few he wanted to read during the semester. 

He was always reading, ever since he was a kid. He loved immersing himself into different worlds, or learning about life through fiction. 

He knew with classes and homework it would be difficult to read as much as he used to, but he was going to take advantage of any free time he had. 

Their campus had many spots to sit and read, his favorite one was underneath the giant oak tree in the courtyard. There wasn’t too much chatter, and the sun was shining perfectly, making it a beautiful day. He was waiting for Felix to get out of his class, so he decided to read the next chapter of his book while he waited. 

He was finally getting to the good part, the climax of the story about to be revealed, until the book was ripped out of his hands suddenly. The pages were closed shut without his bookmark. 

“What the—”

“What’s your name?” 

He looked up to see Minho holding his book. He inspected it for a moment before tucking it under his arm. Jisung felt his heart jump as their gazes connected—those intense eyes never failed to shock his system. 

“Um, what the hell is your problem? Give it back,” he demanded. 

“I will, after you tell me your name.” 

Jisung gritted his teeth. He couldn’t believe he just walked up and snatched his book out of his hands like that. He also couldn’t believe he even cared what his name was. They clearly didn’t like each other, that’s all the information they needed to know. 

He answered anyway, aching to get one of his favorite books back in his possession. 

“It’s Jisung, you jerk, now give it back,” he growled this time. Minho smirked, finally handing it to him. Jisung snatched it out of his grasp, glaring at him as usual. 

“Where’s your brother?” he questioned him then, and Jisung didn’t like his annoyed tone. 

“He’s in class for another twenty minutes,” he told him, mirroring his crappy attitude. Jisung gaped when Minho threw his bag down next to him, sitting underneath the shade. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, perplexed. 

“Eating,” Minho answered simply, taking out a sandwich from his bag and munching on it. 

Jisung couldn’t believe this. 

“Can’t you eat somewhere else?” He tried to sound as irritated as possible. There were tons of open tables in the courtyard—there was no reason he had to sit right next to him. Minho didn’t even respond as he took out a textbook and started reading. Jisung noticed it was a history book, and he hated that he was curious what his major was. 

He sighed loudly, enough to get his point across that he was not happy that he was bothering him. He was even more pissed when he had to search for which page he was on before Minho had ripped it out of his hands earlier. 

But he couldn’t focus on reading anymore, and he hated that his eyes kept flicking up to catch glances at him. He looked good today, with his red and white backwards baseball cap and a black T-shirt with matching black sweatpants. 

He flipped through his textbook as he slowly ate his lunch. Jisung had no idea why he was sitting down with him—and the silence was incredibly awkward. 

He wanted to say something, but once again his words were stuck in his throat. He also couldn’t stop thinking about what he said the other day, that somehow, he was distracting him. 

“Any reason as to why you’re always staring at me?” Minho asked, his eyes instantly moving up to catch Jisung’s not so subtle gaze. “If you have something to say then just say it.” 

He blushed, getting caught, but he rolled his eyes. 

“Can you like, go away?” he said, trying to get rid of him again. 

“No.” 

Jisung was starting to get really frustrated. All he wanted was to have a nice relaxing afternoon and potentially finish reading his book—but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. 

“Fine.” He placed his bookmark inside his novel before closing it. It seemed to catch Minho’s attention as he was putting his things back inside his book bag. He went to stand, but Minho grabbed him by the wrist. His sudden touch felt like it was burning his skin.

“Hey,” Minho said, looking up at him with a tiny glare, “don’t come to our practice today.”

That made a fire burn in Jisung’s belly. He ripped his arm out of his grasp and shrugged his bag over his shoulder. He ignored him as he stomped out from underneath the oak tree, leaving Minho behind to steal his favorite spot.

He texted Felix to meet him in the cafeteria instead, and decided not to tell him that Minho had ruined his afternoon in the courtyard.  

Needless to say, he showed up to their practice later that evening. At this point, he found he was going just to piss him off—and he was definitely mad, because once again he was glaring at him from the pitcher’s mound. 

They had a late practice today, and Jisung was trying to suppress his yawns. There was no one else left on the bleachers with him. There had been a few girls earlier, giggling as they talked about how hot the players were. He had heard Minho’s name drop from their lips a few times. He rolled his eyes whenever they mentioned him. Sure he was hot, but they didn’t know how much of a hideous jerk he was. 

He found he was watching him again all practice. Especially after those girls had talked about how perfect he was. He hated to admit that they were right. He had a menacing glare, but such an attractive face. He would definitely get lost staring at his arms while he pitched, and Jisung really liked it when he wore his tight pants and not his loose fitting ones. Today was a knee high sock, tight pants day and Jisung had to tear his eyes off him during batting practice. 

Their practice went long, but they had their first game coming up soon. 

Jisung had picked his book up since practice was finally almost over and the team was running around the infield for their cool down. He hadn’t been able to finish the chapter he was reading earlier, due to being rudely disturbed and interrupted, so he decided to wrap it up as he waited for Felix to finish his laps. 

He was startled when he heard the fence in front of him rattle loudly, causing him to drop the book from his hands. It bounced off the bleachers in front of him and hit the ground. 

When he looked up, he saw the baseball that was thrown in his direction fall to the dirt. His eyes connected with Minho’s as he glared at him again from the first baseline. 

He had just thrown a baseball right at him. Of course there was a fence to protect him, but it still made Jisung’s jaw clench in anger and disbelief. 

He made his way over and leaned on the fence, his fingers tangling in the wire. 

“You don’t like to listen, do you?” he sounded irritated, and Jisung just scoffed. He didn’t say anything. He just flipped him off. 

That made Minho snicker with a slight roll of his eyes. 

Jisung could see that his brother was finally making his way over to him. Felix eyed Minho carefully, as they were once again in conversation. 

Minho huffed out an irritated breath before retracting his hands from the fence and making his way towards the dugout. Jisung noticed the way he tossed his glove aggressively into his cubby. 

Felix looked concerned as he approached him. 

“What was that about?” he asked, and Jisung just shrugged. 

“Nothing,” he hopped off the bleachers, grabbing his book that had tumbled to the ground. He groaned as he saw the pages were tainted with a little bit of dirt. 

“Did he say something to you?” he asked, concerned. 

“Nothing important,” Jisung shrugged, and that was the truth. He wasn’t exactly sure what Minho’s problem was with him, but honestly he didn’t really care. 

Felix looked unsatisfied with that answer, but nodded his head. He looked exhausted. Minho had him chasing every ball today. He wasn’t sure if he was having a rough practice, or if he was messing with Felix on purpose, but he kept missing the strike zone. 

Jisung kept yawning on their walk home, and he couldn’t help but notice Felix was being quieter than usual. 

“What’s wrong?” he questioned him. Felix sighed, knowing Jisung could read him so easily. 

“Jisung…Minho told me he doesn’t want you to come to the season opener game,” he told him, and that made Jisung stop dead in his tracks. 

“What?” His tone was incredibly harsh, and Felix flinched. 

“Look, I know you always come to the games, but Minho made it clear that…that if you come he would tell our coach that he doesn’t want me to play. He said you were too much of a distraction,” he explained. That had Jisung’s eye twitching with irritation, but his heart flipped in his chest a little. 

Distraction. Jisung was a distraction . Whatever that was supposed to fucking mean. All he did was sit quietly on the bench as he watched them play. He was starting to think that Minho was just trying to fuck with Felix even more, knowing he liked having Jisung there. He was trying to sabotage his first college debut game, by causing him an incredible amount of stress. Maybe then Chan would get to play instead, if he made Felix look bad enough. 

He had never seen Felix so nervous to tell him something before. It must have been really weighing on him. He had made practically every one of his games since he was in tee ball. 

“When did he say this?” he questioned, and Felix’s frown deepened.

“Today. He was really mad after practice. I was trying to do my best, but I still think he thinks that I’m not good enough to start,” he trailed off, and Jisung wanted to roll his eyes.

“That’s not true, Felix. I was watching the whole time, and he’s the one that was fucking up. I know you know that too, so quit trying to take the blame when it’s not your fault.” 

And that was the truth. Felix did great today, having to deal with the wild pitches Minho kept throwing—but Felix was always too kind. 

“I also think he doesn’t like you because you called him a dick behind his back.” 

“He is a dick,” he reiterated, but Felix just sighed.

“I really don’t want to make things even worse.” He sounded worried.

His jaw clenched, but he decided to hold back his anger for Felix’s sake. He had worked hard for that catcher’s position. He had been so excited to play, gushing about it constantly before the semester started, and Jisung didn’t want to take that away from him. 

“Okay.” That was all he said, trying not to let his irritation get the best of him at the moment. Felix didn’t need the extra stress.

Felix looked grateful, but also incredibly guilty. 

“Thanks, Jisungie.”

Jisung changed the subject quickly, talking about his creative writing class which he knew Felix would have no interest in, but he didn’t want to talk about baseball or Minho anymore. 

Even though he tried to let it go, he couldn’t get Minho’s stupid smirk out of his mind. He wanted to confront him about it, but he knew it would be pointless. Minho hated him and his brother, and he was clearly trying to make them both miserable. He took deep breaths to try and calm himself down, even though he seriously wanted to go to Felix’s dorm and punch him right in the dick.

When Jisung made his way to the courtyard after class, he wasn’t surprised to see Minho leaning up against his favorite oak tree. 

It seemed the more Jisung showed up to practice, the more Minho started infiltrating his favorite spots on campus. He had taken his quiet seat in the west wing library, and constantly stole his relaxing spot under the big oak. 

He was getting pissed. 

Normally, he would just walk away and find somewhere else to sit, but he was getting tired of Minho acting like an asshole. He barely knew the guy, but he irritated him so damn much. 

He stomped up to him and threw his bag at him, hitting him in the arm. Minho flinched, looking up from his textbook. 

“Hello, Jisung,” he greeted. His name fell from his lips so calmly and casually. That was the first time he ever called him by his name, and Jisung hated himself for liking the way it sounded coming from his lips. Minho had tossed his bag to the side and Jisung clenched his fingers in anger. 

“Do we have a problem?” he asked bluntly, because this back and forth game of annoying the shit out of each other was getting old. 

Minho looked up carefully, and Jisung shivered again under that intense gaze. 

“You tell me,” he stated, glancing back down to his history book. He wondered if he was a history major, but then he reminded himself that he didn’t care.

“When you threaten my brother and start harassing me on the daily, then yeah, I’d say we have a problem,” he snapped, and that made Minho laugh. Jisung’s heart skipped hearing it. Even his laugh was pretty. 

“Harassing you?” he questioned, like Jisung was delusional. He was seconds away from losing it as Minho rolled his eyes. 

“You know what you’re doing,” he accused, but Minho’s lips curled up in interest. 

“And what’s that?” 

Jisung wanted to smack that stupid smirk off his face. 

“You know I always sit here.” 

“You don’t own this spot,” he informed him. 

Jisung was letting his frustration get the best of him—but he couldn’t help it, especially because Minho looked so nonchalant. 

“You’re an asshole.”

That made Minho’s smirk disappear. 

“You’re the one pissing me off on purpose. I’m just repaying the favor,” he barked back, and Jisung wanted to kick that stupid textbook out of his hands as he flipped the pages dramatically. He could tell he wasn’t even reading it. He probably didn’t even have class today.

“Me? I didn’t do anything to you,” he argued, and Minho rolled his eyes. 

“Right, you definitely haven’t been calling me a dick, an asshole, a jerk or a dumbass constantly. I must have imagined that.” 

Jisung let out a curt laugh. 

“That’s just the truth. It hurts, but that’s not my fault,” he quipped, and Minho finally slammed his text book shut. Jisung watched as he gathered up his things. He felt a little triumphant, annoying him enough that he was getting ready to leave. He stood up then, with his baseball mitt in hand and his bag over his shoulder. 

Jisung gasped a bit as he shoved his face in his. If he were wearing his hat the right way, the brim would have poked him in the forehead. He swallowed nervously as Minho’s eyes raked over him. Those intense fucking eyes made a shiver run down his spine. 

“Want to know what my problem is with you?” he asked. Jisung went to answer, but once again his words were stuck in his throat. “You don’t fucking listen. Stop coming to the baseball field.” 

It sounded like a warning this time.

“W—Why?” 

That wasn’t what he had wanted to say. He wanted to tell him to fuck off, and that he couldn’t tell him what to do, but that stuttered question fell from his lips instead. 

“I already told you, you’re a distraction,” he was incredibly close, and Jisung couldn’t stop looking at that plump top lip of his. 

“How? I’m there to watch Felix play. How is that distracting to you?” 

Jisung didn't miss the little smirk that tugged at his lips. 

“When I have a pretty thing like you staring at me the whole time, it gets a little bothersome.” 

Jisung’s eyes went wide, a deep blush took over his cheeks. 

What?

“I—I don’t—” 

“Tell your brother our practice starts at six tonight.” Jisung flinched away when he tapped his head with his mitt. Minho shrugged his bag over his shoulder without another word, leaving him and the giant oak tree behind. 

He took his spot underneath it, but he couldn’t focus on reading. 

He spent the entire day thinking about Minho’s words. He could barely focus in class and it was driving him insane. That smirk was once again torturing his mind, and his heart would hammer whenever he thought about those intense eyes of his. 

He thought maybe he was just messing with him, just like he was with Felix, and that maybe if he made him uncomfortable he would stop coming to practice. 

Unfortunately for him, Jisung didn’t like to back down. 

He showed up to practice, and he could see Minho’s jaw set in frustration when he saw him sitting on the bleachers. 

When their eyes met, Minho was looking at him once again with that unreadable expression. 

He shook his head, and slammed the rosin bag to the ground. He watched him as he pitched, and Jisung could see him getting frustrated as he missed the strike zone more than he had probably planned. 

Jisung noticed that even when he wasn’t at his best, he was still better than your average college pitcher. He was talented, he couldn’t deny it. 

He rolled his eyes when Minho screamed in irritation on the mound when Felix missed blocking one of those wild pitches of his. 

“Stop the damn fucking ball! That’s your job!” 

Jisung really hated his fucking attitude. 

“How can I stop the ball when it’s thrown two feet outside the zone?” 

Everyone looked shocked. Felix never talked back to him before. But not being able to stop that ball was clearly not his fault. 

“Move your body. You just sit there like dead weight, like a useless target!” 

Jisung could see Minho advancing towards Felix, but Chan intercepted him before he could get there. 

“Minho, enough.” 

He could see him seething. He pushed Chan off and made his way towards the dugout. Jisung flinched when he heard a loud crash from below the steps. 

Jisung sighed. He clearly wasn’t good at controlling his emotions. When he looked over to Felix, he was just happy that he didn’t look guilty, like it was his fault. He looked a little angry, and Jisung was proud of him for finally standing up for himself. 

Practice continued, and Jisung was happy that everyone seemed to be sticking up for Felix, telling him not to worry about it and that he was doing a good job.

He suddenly felt his skin prickling though. When he looked over to the dugout, Minho was glaring right at him. His wild eyes were burning holes through him. Jisung flinched, looking away—but Minho’s stare never left him. 

He sat out for the rest of practice, and Jisung knew he was looking at him the entire time. He was starting to get uncomfortable—especially when his words from earlier were swirling in his brain. 

A pretty thing like you. 

He bit his lip hard, trying not to blush with Minho’s gaze still on him from the dugout. 

Minho was just a dick, trying to mess with him. He knew that. He told Felix not to let him get in his head, so he couldn’t let him infiltrate his either. 

Unlike Felix, Jisung actually had a pretty cool roommate. Hyunjin was an art major, and a freshman just like him. He was incredibly kind and kept his side of the room pretty well kept, which he liked. He joked to Felix that Hyunjin was a way better roommate than he would have been, since he knew how to keep his side clean. 

Once again, Felix and Jisung were nothing alike. Jisung liked things neat and tidy, whereas Felix didn't really care. 

But Felix had been spending a lot of his time in his dorm since he and Minho still didn’t really get along. 

“So, your brother is on the baseball team, right?” Hyunjin asked way too curiously, and Jisung groaned at the sight of his sparkling eyes. Felix had just stopped by to drop off some food for him at the library since he was studying for a quiz and refused his dinner invite. Hyunjin was more than interested when Felix waved politely at him—but that was Felix’s charm. Everyone always fell for him right away. They had met a few times, and he could tell that Hyunjin wanted to know more about him. 

“Yes,” he answered plainly, and Hyunjin just hummed in response. 

“You guys really are nothing alike, are you?” 

He tried not to sigh as that question was once again presented to him. 

“Not really.” 

He liked Hyunjin. Most times he was quiet, and he liked to walk with him to his classes in the morning, since they had lectures in the same building. He usually carried the conversation easily, which Jisung liked. 

“Is he dating anyone?” 

“You're not his type,” he lied, and that made Hyunjin scoff. Felix would definitely be into Hyunjin. He was attractive, and Felix always liked tall guys with a sweet personality. 

“You just don’t want me to date your brother,” he accused, making Jisung nod.

“Correct.” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and pouted, leaning back in his chair. 

“But he’s hot, and on the baseball team and you should properly introduce me.” He was pleading with his hands folded. 

“Gross, and so what, and I don’t feel like it,” he responded, because there was no way he was going to deal with his roommate and his brother hooking up in his room. Felix would definitely do something like that. 

“You’re the worst.” 

“I know,” he smiled brightly, and Hyunjin whined as he rested his head on the table. 

“Studying is also the worst. I’m literally an art major, why do I have to take math?” he questioned with a pained groan. Jisung was currently studying for the same class, and he agreed with him wholeheartedly. He wished math came as easy to him as creative writing did. 

They had been studying for a while, and had been making pretty good progress. 

He jumped when he felt his chair being tipped back. He let out a gasp, since he felt like he was going to fall. 

“You’re sitting at my table.” Jisung looked up to see Minho leaning over him, his chair teetering on two legs as he pulled him backwards. 

He was shocked to see him.  

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He let out a grunt when Minho let his chair go, falling back and steadying on all fours. He pulled out the chair next to him and placed the textbook he had in his hand on the table. 

“I’m here to study.” He could tell he was lying. All he had with him was a textbook. He didn’t even have his bag on him. And Jisung had picked a different spot to sit in the library today, not in the spot that Minho had been stealing recently. 

They hadn’t spoken since the other day under the oak tree, and Jisung’s cheeks were heating up thinking about it again. 

He hadn’t seen him since Minho’s little episode during practice the other night, which apparently was the talk of the team. Felix told him their coach had forced him to sit out, and he had destroyed one of the water coolers in the dugout. 

Clearly he was pissed that he kept fucking up, and not being able to pin it on Felix. That’s probably why he got so irritated. That, and the fact that Jisung had shown up again to support his brother, regardless of his warning for him to stay away. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about those piercing eyes either. They were stuck on him, even after Jisung left the field. He went home that night, still feeling their intense effect on him. 

If he didn’t already hate him before, he definitely hated him now. 

Which explained why he was trying to bother him at the moment. Minho was scooting his chair uncomfortably close, and Jisung looked at him like he was crazy. 

“Um…” Hyunjin piped up then, and Minho immediately turned his attention towards him. 

“Oh, hi. I’m sorry, my name is Minho, it’s nice to meet you. Are you one of Jisung’s friends?” 

Jisung’s jaw hit the floor at the kindest tone he had ever heard come from his mouth. He swore he even saw Hyunjin blush a little as he directed a sweet smile in his direction. 

“I’m Hyunjin, and uh, yeah, we’re roommates.” 

“Ah, that’s cool. I play baseball with Jisung’s brother, Felix—and he’s also my roommate.” He chuckled, and Jisung couldn’t believe the nice guy act he was putting on. He could see Hyunjin raise an interested eyebrow in Jisung’s direction. 

“Get out of here,” Jisung interrupted, and Minho’s piercing eyes slid back over to him. 

“Don’t be so rude, Jisungie.” That made Jisung’s chest burn with anger. No one but Felix ever called him that. 

Hyunjin was definitely getting whiplash as he watched Minho smile at Jisung while he glared back at him with the wish of death. 

“Look, I have work to do, so get lost.” 

“Why can’t we all study together? Hyunjin, you don’t mind, right?” That fake sweet voice was making him sick. 

Jisung gave Hyunjin the hardest look, but it clearly didn’t register fast enough for him to understand that he wanted him to deny it. 

“Sure, I don’t mind.” 

Jisung wanted to punch him. 

He was getting irritated as he tried to focus and he could feel Minho’s eyes on him, just like the other night. He could feel his gaze burning into the side of his face as he tried to solve the problems on the page. Minho wasn’t even trying to hide that he was staring right at him. He tapped his fingers on the table, and it was starting to annoy the hell out of him. 

“Quit looking at me,” he finally snapped, and Minho gave him an innocent face. 

“Not sure what you’re talking about.” He shrugged, and Jisung thought he was going to lose it. He also swore he was moving closer and closer every few minutes, but maybe he was just going crazy. 

It went on like that for over an hour until Hyunjin announced that he had to leave. 

“I told my friend that I would meet him at the gym, but I’ll see you at the dorms later. It was nice to meet you, Minho,” he told him, packing up his things. Jisung wanted to snap his pencil in half when Minho kindly waved goodbye to him. 

He pushed his chair away, trying to get him to back up. 

“Alright, enough with the nice guy act,” he accused, and that made Minho chuckle.

“It’s not an act. I’ll let you know that I actually am a pretty nice guy.” 

That made Jisung laugh loudly, disturbing a few people at the tables nearby. 

“You’re so fucking full of yourself.” He shook his head, closing his own textbook and shutting down his laptop. 

“Am I?” he asked, and that made Jisung turn in his chair so he was facing him directly. He had enough of his bullshit. 

“Yeah, you are. You clearly think you’re the best player on the team and your bad attitude is bringing everyone down. Sure, you can throw fast, but you miss the strike zone at least fifty percent of the time. You try to blame it on Felix, saying he can’t catch, but you throw an unreasonable amount of wild pitches, causing him to bounce around all over the plate. Your hitting is average at best, your fielding is comparable to a kid playing tee ball, and you’re a total dick on and off the field.” 

Minho was blinking at him, his eyes a little wide. It was quiet for a couple of minutes, until Minho tried to suppress a chuckle with his hand. 

“I knew you were watching me.” 

Jisung couldn’t believe that was the only thing he had to say. 

“I’m leaving,” he announced. He grabbed his bag and went to stand, but Minho gripped him harshly by the elbow, tugging him back down. 

“Want to know why I’m throwing so many wild pitches?” he questioned then, and Jisung felt his heart race as he leaned in closely. “Because you won’t quit fucking staring at me when I’m on the mound.” 

Jisung felt his mouth go dry as Minho’s gaze traveled from his lips to his eyes. 

“Get over yourself, I’m just watching you guys practice. I don’t look at you more than anyone else.” 

That was a lie. He definitely watched Minho way too much. He couldn’t help it. He was irritating, but his fastball was incredible to look at. Even though Jisung had just slammed him for his abilities, he still was the best pitcher on the team. There was a reason why he was the ace. He also hated to admit that he wasn’t half bad to look at. He liked the way his biceps flexed as he threw a pitch down the center of the plate, and he wouldn’t deny that he had been staring at his ass a little bit when he was up to bat. 

Not that he would admit that out loud or anything.

He ripped his elbow out of his grasp and that made Minho smirk. 

“It’s tough, isn’t it?” he asked then, and Jisung gave him a questioning glance.

“What?” 

Minho tapped the paper in front of him—the study guide he was supposed to fill out and finish tonight was only half completed. 

“It’s hard to focus when you have someone staring at you the entire time.” 

Jisung flushed, and Minho closed the useless textbook, grabbing it in his hands and standing from his seat. 

“See you later, sweetheart.” 

He tapped the top of his head with the book before making his way towards the exit. 

Felix’s first baseball game was finally this weekend. Jisung had to convince him that he would hide in the crowd, and wouldn’t let Minho see him. There was no way Jisung wasn’t going to support his brother for his first college game. Felix was definitely stressed, because he wanted Jisung there, but he didn’t want to piss Minho off. 

He couldn’t believe he was still bullying him about it. But Minho continued to threaten him, saying he would tell their coach he didn’t want to pitch to him if Jisung showed up to their game. 

At first, Jisung told him to ignore him, but Felix was too anxious to go against his word. Not only was he older, being a third year on the team, but he was the best pitcher in their lineup. Their coach might sit Felix just because he suggested it. 

“I just don’t understand why he thinks you distract me.”

For some reason that made Jisung blush. He hadn’t told Felix what Minho said, and apparently Minho hadn’t elaborated either. 

Because Minho was the one getting distracted by him, not Felix. He felt a little guilty keeping it from him. They never kept secrets, but honestly he had no idea what to even say. 

“He’s just an asshole,” Jisung shrugged, and Felix sighed. 

“He’s been better recently, but he’s still a little harsh. Chan told me he feels a lot of pressure as the ace. He didn’t really tell me why though.” 

That made Jisung a little curious too. It had been roughly two weeks, and the only thing he knew about Minho was that he liked to bother him by closing his book on him while he was in the middle of reading, and stealing his comfort spots throughout campus. 

It became an everyday thing. He had no idea how Minho kept finding them, but as soon as Jisung would find a new quiet and calm place, he would come back the next day and Minho would be sitting there. 

If he managed to find one during the day, Minho would quietly sneak up on him and slam the book he was reading shut. Even when he reopened it to try and refocus on reading, Minho would stare at him until he either got frustrated enough to leave or he had to go to class. 

Felix had no idea about Minho constantly bothering him on campus. It seemed whenever he was with Felix, he stayed away for the most part, but when he was in class and Jisung was by himself, Minho was always around. He could barely get a moment to himself unless he went to his dorm, and he didn’t have time to do that between classes. 

It was driving him nuts. 

Jisung continued to come to their practices, and even made it a point to stare at Minho until he looked over at him. He could see him lose his composure on the mound, sometimes getting so frustrated that he would throw his mitt into the water coolers, knocking them over with a loud splash. 

Jisung felt a little guilty that Minho was clearly taking it out on Felix, especially when he threw four wild pitches in a row to walk a batter during a practice match with another college nearby. 

Jisung could see him losing control, more and more as the innings went on. 

Felix had called a timeout for a meeting on the mound after he had hit a batter accidentally with a wild pitch. The infield gathered, and Minho pushed Felix hard in the chest when their coach decided to take him out of the game. 

Jisung was shocked when Minho grabbed him by the arm after their practice. Jisung felt his heart stutter as their eyes connected, and that intense glare made his entire body freeze up. He thought he was going to say something, but instead he just closed his eyes with a frustrated scoff. 

He stomped away, leaving him confused and flustered on the bleachers. 

He didn’t even steal his spot under the oak tree the next day. He kept looking over his shoulder, waiting for him to pop up and slam his book shut. He was surprised when he never showed. 

“Well, Hyunjin and I will be there, and don’t worry we’ll be hidden.” Felix’s face lifted a bit at the mention of his roommate's name. Jisung decided to ignore that for now. 

“Alright, I have class, but we can grab dinner after. You should invite Hyunjin, too.” 

Apparently he couldn’t ignore it. He just shook his head with a smile. 

“Here, you can text him.” He shared his number and Felix looked a little too excited about it. He couldn’t hide his feelings from Jisung, even if he tried. He was definitely interested in him, and who was he to deny a potential budding romance. 

They parted for their classes, and Jisung couldn’t stop yawning during his lecture. He didn’t hate science, but he didn’t particularly care about it either. 

As he finally got through the day, Felix had texted him to meet him at his dorm before they could head over to the dining hall for dinner. Hyunjin was meeting them there, so he had no reason to go back to his dorm. 

He knocked on Felix’s dorm room door, hoping he was back from classes already. All the air left his lungs when the door swung open, and Minho was standing there with dripping wet hair, no shirt on and low hanging sweatpants around his hips. 

Jisung couldn’t help staring at him, like he normally did, but this time his eyes were so obvious as they trailed up and down his muscular body. 

“Your brother’s not here,” he told him with an annoyed tone. That made Jisung scowl. 

Of course Felix wasn’t back yet. He was the slowest walker ever, and he was coming from across campus. Jisung thought briefly about going back to his own dorm, but by the time he would get there, he would just have to walk back. 

He could also sit in the hallway, but that would be incredibly weird. 

“Well, can I come in and wait for him?” he asked, knowing he would be there soon and that he could handle five minutes alone with Minho. They practically spent every day together anyway, since Minho followed him around all over campus. 

He didn’t like the way Minho was blocking the doorway, his own eyes raking up and down Jisung’s body, making him feel small. Jisung didn’t like how long it took for him to make up his mind, slowly opening the door with an irritated frown. 

Jisung closed the door behind him, and suddenly he wished he would have just left and came back later. Because even though they were together on campus, there were always other people around and they were never alone in an enclosed space like this. Their dorm room was tiny, and Jisung could feel Minho’s eyes boring into his skin as he sat on Felix’s bed, trying to mind his own business by reading his book he had brought with him. 

“What are you reading?” Minho asked, and Jisung was surprised at his question. 

“A book,” he answered like he was annoyed. Minho chuckled, and Jisung wasn’t sure when his heart started to race at that sound. 

“So snippy, sorry for asking you a simple question.” He was grabbing a shirt from his drawer, and Jisung wanted to punch himself in the face for wishing he wouldn’t put it on over that beautiful body of his. He tried to not flush thinking about it. 

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you, so leave me alone.” God, he sounded like a child, but it was true. He hated everything about Minho. From his asshole attitude to that annoying smirk on his face all the time. 

Jisung went back to reading, but Minho must not have liked that he was ignoring him, because he snatched it out of his hands. 

“Quit fucking doing that,” he hissed, jumping off the bed and trying to grab it back, but Minho just lifted it over his head. 

“What’s your major?” he asked, ignoring him, and Jisung was trying not to lose it. 

“Give me the fucking book, Minho,” he warned. That made a giant smirk break out onto Minho’s face. He tried to reach for it, and his eyes went wide when Minho tapped him on the head with it.

“Answer my question then.” 

Jisung flushed as he blinked at him patiently, waiting for his response. 

“Literature, now give me my book back.” 

Instead of handing it back to him like he said, he started flipping through the pages. Jisung had read that book about a thousand times, the pages were annotated, marked with highlights and comments. It was one of his favorites, and he felt exposed with Minho’s eyes raking over the pages. 

Jisung tried to grab it, but Minho had insanely fast reflexes, grabbing his wrist and pulling him so close he almost fell right into him. 

“You want it back that bad, huh?” he teased, and Jisung was raging. 

“You are such a fucking asshole,” he snapped, and that made Minho chuckle. He slowly brought the book down so Jisung could grab it. 

He pressed it to his chest protectively with both arms as he glared at him. Minho’s eyes were on his, blinking at him with a tiny smirk. 

“I’m not an asshole, Jisung.” 

Jisung was the one laughing now. 

“You’re not? That’s fucking funny, since you’re bullying Felix to the point where you’re trying to ruin this season for him, and you’re messing with me constantly trying to wear me down so I don’t come to the games to support him.” 

He hadn’t planned on confronting him about it, but his words slipped out with his anger. Minho popped an eyebrow in confusion. 

“I’m not trying to ruin this season for him, what are you talking about?” 

“You literally told him that you would have your coach sit him if I came to the game,” he accused, and that made Minho flinch. 

“That has nothing to do with your brother.” 

Jisung scoffed. 

“Felix told me you don’t want him catching for you because you're pissy about your friend not getting to start, so that’s why you’ve been treating him like shit.”

Minho’s face turned into a scowl. 

“Well, I don’t know who told him that, but that’s not fucking true. Felix is a good player, my only problem is that he keeps bringing you to practices after I’ve told him I don’t want you around,” he snapped and that made Jisung’s heart burn in his chest. 

“What’s your fucking problem with me? What have I ever done to you? I called you a dick because you were being a dick to my brother, so if you’re pissed about that, fucking get over it.”

Jisung gasped when Minho pushed him back by the chest. The back of his legs hit the mattress and he was falling backwards. He still had his book clutched his chest, and he felt all the air leave his lungs when Minho crawled over him, grabbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. 

“My problem?” he smirked, and Jisung's heart was hammering as Minho ran a thumb over his bottom lip. “My problem with you is that you’re really fucking pretty.” 

Jisung’s eyes went wide, and he shivered a little when Minho glared down at him. Jisung’s words were caught in his throat. 

“I don’t know what you’re thinking when you’re staring at me every single practice. It drives me insane, to the point where I can’t focus. You say I’m an asshole, but then you can’t take your eyes off me.”

Jisung wasn’t sure what to say. His hands were trembling on his book as Minho stared down at him, those intense eyes searching his face. 

Minho grit his teeth, and suddenly he looked angry. 

“You’re distracting the fuck out of me, and I don’t have time for it.” 

He kicked off the bed then, and Jisung was left staring at the ceiling. Minho didn’t say anything else as he grabbed his bag and left the room. 

Jisung’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. His words played over and over again in his mind. Because what the fuck . 

He jumped when the door opened, and Felix walked in with a confused face. 

“Jisung?” he questioned, as he saw he was laying down awkwardly on his bed. He sat up, seeing Felix looking confused. 

“Oh, h–hey.” His voice was shaky, and he knew Felix would notice. He placed his bag down on the chair in the corner of the room, eyeing his flushed face and nervous body language. 

“Minho looked really pissed when I passed him in the hallway just now…did something happen?” he asked, and Jisung shook his head quickly.

“Nope. Nothing at all.” He wasn’t sure why he lied, but honestly he was still trying to wrap his head around his words. 

“Are you sure? I don’t care if messes with me, but if he’s acting like a dick to you…” he trailed off, and that made Jisung smile. It was cute whenever Felix would get protective of him. 

“It’s fine. You know I don’t let assholes like him bother me,” he told him, but that was another lie.

Because right now, he was completely bothered by him, and he was incredibly confused. 

Chapter Text

Jisung was never one to avoid a problem. If something was wrong, he would face it head on. He found that ignoring it always made it worse, so it was better to just deal with it and get it off his shoulders. 

But this time he was avoiding the hell out of the problem he had—and that problem was Minho. 

He hadn’t been able to focus properly since yesterday. He knew Felix thought he was acting really weird during dinner, constantly asking him if he was okay. He had to assure him he was fine multiple times, knowing it was hard to lie to him. Thankfully, Hyunjin kept the conversation going after noticing him looking uncomfortable, enough to keep Felix’s attention and for Jisung to dwell inside his brain the whole night. 

Because that was the second time Minho had called him pretty. Those intense eyes captivated his gaze as he hovered above him, causing his heart to race. Every time he thought about them, it would beat even faster.

He had touched him so gently, the pad of his thumb lightly trailing over his lips. He twitched a little as he pulled away, like he had wanted to do more. 

His smirk had turned into an aggressive glare as his eyes had inspected every feature of his nervous face. Once again, Minho had erased all words from his vocabulary, leaving him confoundedly staring at him. 

He had wanted to tell him that he had no idea what he was thinking either. He couldn’t decipher him, his words, or those intense eyes of his. He had pushed him to the bed, told him these crazy things, and then left in a huff without another word. 

Which is why he decided to avoid his place underneath the oak tree and his favorite spot in the library. If Minho were to approach him today, he would have no idea what to say. Normally, Jisung had no problem saying what was on his mind, but every time they were together, Minho would say something that would take his breath away, leaving him speechless. 

He fucking hated it. 

It was Friday, and Felix’s first game was tomorrow afternoon. They had planned to hang out tonight in Jisung’s dorm with Hyunjin, getting take out and watching some movies. There were a few parties on campus that the baseball team was invited to, but Felix wanted to be one hundred percent healthy and rested for the game on Saturday. It was Hyunjin who suggested a movie night, and Jisung smiled seeing Felix’s excited face. 

He had an afternoon class, and decided to sit at the benches outside near the cafeteria. It wasn’t his favorite spot, because it was always loud and it was hard for him to focus on reading. 

He had taken his book out anyway, hoping that he could get through a chapter even though people were laughing and chattering boisterously. 

He was halfway through the chapter, completely immersed, when suddenly the book was being tugged out of his grasp. He felt his breath hitch as he stared at his now empty hands. 

“What class do you have this afternoon?” 

He clenched his fingers into fists, because how the hell did he find him?

“Are you stalking me or something?” he snapped. When he looked up, he wished he hadn’t. Minho looked so fucking good today, with a cutoff baseball t-shirt and that white and red hat flipped backwards on his head. His muscles were being shown off perfectly, and Jisung hated how hot he was. 

“How come whenever I ask you a question you never answer it?” he retorted. Jisung went to look at his face to capture his gaze, but he ripped his eyes away instead, knowing his mind would muddle if he looked at him right now. 

“Maybe because it’s none of your fucking business,” he sassed. Minho chuckled, and Jisung’s heart was already threatening to fall out onto the ground at the sound. 

“I guess you don’t want your book back then?” 

Jisung twitched, seeing him shaking it at him. He knew he would fold, just to get it back in his possession. Those books meant a lot to him. He spent a lot of time analyzing ideas and pouring his thoughts into the margins. He never let others touch or borrow them—not even Felix. Losing them or having them destroyed would break him. 

Minho must have seen the tension on his face because he tapped his head with it, before placing it back in his hands. Jisung was surprised, and when he looked up to catch his eyes, Minho was staring at him with a soft smile. He had never seen that look before. 

He wanted to tell him to get lost, but he was already sitting down and taking out his lunch. Jisung noticed he ate the same sandwich every single day. He didn’t bother to open his textbook like he normally did. He wouldn’t have been reading it anyway, since he was too busy staring at him. 

“So are you going to tell me what class you have?” he asked again. 

“Why do you even care?” he countered, causing Minho to shrug. It was quiet between them for a few moments, before Jisung sighed. 

“I have my creative writing class this afternoon,” he spoke softly. 

He had no idea why he was telling him that. He should have just told him to fuck off, but that smile seemed to change his mind.

Minho seemed shocked that he had actually answered, but he seemed satisfied with his response though. 

Jisung traced the spine of his book with his finger gently. He was stupidly nervous, thinking about the way Minho had him pinned to the bed yesterday, saying all those things. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

“You know, you’re a lot cuter when you’re not snapping at me.” 

Jisung’s face flushed as he smirked at him. 

“Would you shut the fuck up?” he hissed, and Minho laughed. 

“Well that didn’t last long.” He took another bite of his sandwich, and Jisung wanted to smack it out of his hands. 

He hated that he was so flustered, but Minho was acting like yesterday didn’t even happen. Jisung also had so many questions, but he wouldn’t even know how to ask them. 

“What do you want?” he asked instead, thinking maybe that was a safe question. 

That made Minho stop eating his food, and his eyes glanced over to him, a dark glint in his gaze. 

“I came to tell you not to come to the game tomorrow,” he said, his tone serious. 

Jisung’s jaw clenched. Once again he was spewing that bullshit. 

“If I want to go to the game then I will, so you can fuck off.” 

Minho’s glare intensified. 

“If you want your brother to have the starting catcher position, then I suggest not coming,” he threatened, and that made Jisung grind his teeth together. 

“You’re an asshole ,” he spat, as Minho’s eyes narrowed in on him. 

Minho was crumpling up his garbage, and it looked like he was getting ready to leave. Jisung couldn’t believe that he had sought him out just to threaten him. 

He flinched when Minho reached out with his fingers, tapping underneath his chin. 

“Be good and listen this time, yeah?” 

Jisung knew he flushed a deep red, especially with the way Minho smirked while looking at him. He would have slapped his hand away if he wasn’t frozen, and he would have told him off if he didn’t once again steal all the words inside his chest. 

He watched him walk away, the sun shining down on his muscular skin as he shrugged his bag over his shoulder. 

He could feel his heart racing, just like yesterday, and it wasn’t slowing down. The touch of his fingertips still tingled his skin, making it impossible to focus on reading again. 

Jisung hated him. He really hated him, but he hated the effect he allowed him to have on him even more. 

“So, why do we have to hide again?” Hyunjin asked as he was throwing on Felix’s jersey. He let him borrow it after Hyunjin had complained that he had nothing to wear to the game. Jisung knew he just wanted Felix to offer it to him, he had seen the triumphant smile on his face when he had suggested he wear his away uniform.

“You know that stupid pitcher on the team?” he asked, not even bothering to call him by his name. 

“No,” he stated, and Jisung sighed. He forgot that Hyunjin didn’t know anyone on the baseball team besides Felix. He also didn’t know anything about baseball in general. Jisung had listened to Felix excitedly explaining as much as he could, after Hyunjin had begged him to teach him a few things before he left for his morning practice. Felix loved talking about baseball, and he especially liked teaching a cute guy about it. Jisung rolled his eyes and tried to ignore their blatant flirting, reading his book while Felix showed him how to hold a bat properly.

“Remember Minho?” he asked, and Hyunjin’s face was blank. “The guy you met at the library.”

Hyunjin snapped his fingers in remembrance. 

“Oh yeah, that really hot guy?” 

Jisung scowled, causing Hyunjin to chuckle. 

“He’s not that hot,” he lied. 

He was incredibly hot. It actually bothered him how attractive he was. He had looked so perfect yesterday, and Jisung hated to admit he kind of wanted to reach out and touch his muscular arms. He tried to suppress those thoughts, reminding himself that he was an asshole. 

“Oh come on, he’s gorgeous, Jisung.” Hyunjin looked up, as if he were remembering his perfect face and pretty smile. 

“Yeah, well he fucking hates me,” he stated, and Hyunjin gave him a confused look. 

“What? I thought you guys were friends.” 

Sometimes he wondered if Hyunjin could properly read the room. He thought he made it clear that he was annoyed by him that day at the library, but obviously he hadn’t caught on. 

“We’re definitely not friends. We don’t like each other at all,” he told him, and Hyunjin popped an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, from the way he was looking at you in the library…I’m not sure if that’s what they call hate, babe.” 

Jisung felt his jaw drop a little at that. 

“He—He was just trying to annoy me, and believe me he was successful at it.” 

“Okay, then why do you hate each other?”

That was a loaded question. He decided to give him the short answer. 

“He’s a total dick, and he’s a jerk to Felix so that’s why I don’t like him,” he explained, and Hyunjin frowned. 

“Really? He seemed nice when I met him,” he recalled, and Jisung was shaking his head back-and-forth. 

“He’s not. He’s an asshole. He hates me so much that he’s been threatening Felix, saying he’ll have their coach sit him if I show up to the game today. He hates when I come watch them play, so he harasses me at school to get back at me for showing up. He’s like a fucking child. If he doesn’t get his way he acts out,” he huffed. He hadn’t been planning on sharing all that, but honestly it felt good to get out. 

“Damn, what did you do to make him hate you so much?” He asked, and Jisung rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know…” 

You’re distracting the fuck out of me. 

That’s what he had said, but Jisung had no idea what that even meant. He didn’t know what to think. He thought he hated him, especially with the way Minho glared at him constantly, but then he would have his heart thrashing in his chest, as he called him cute and pretty. His mood swings were hard to keep up with, and his words always threw him for a loop. 

Minho was honestly so fucking confusing. 

He warned him to stay away from the baseball field, but then always came to find him on campus, staring at him until Jisung would get uncomfortable. 

He was definitely hotheaded, and kind of a brat. If things didn’t go his way, he would lash out, and he definitely needed his ego knocked down a few pegs. 

“What does Felix think about all this?” he asked, and Jisung sighed. 

“He asked me not to come because he doesn’t want to piss Minho off. I tried to tell him that was bullshit and that I should be able to come if I want to,” he groaned, crossing his arms over his chest, “but if you know Felix, then you know he hates conflict, and I don’t want to hurt his chances of starting if Minho really meant what he said.” 

Hyunjin nodded with a small frown. 

“So that’s why we’re hiding.” 

They decided to sit as far back on the bleachers as possible near the first baseline. Jisung wore a white baseball cap and a red t-shirt to fit in with the crowd so he wouldn’t easily be noticed. He let Felix know where they were sitting prior to the game, texting him their secret location. It would be hard to stop them in the crowd amongst all the people. 

It was a beautiful day for their first game. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and he was definitely going to get burned from standing in the sun all afternoon. He had to stop Hyunjin from waving to Felix, afraid that Minho would spot them. 

Jisung bit his lip upon seeing him warming up on the baseline. He was entirely focused, and he smirked a little after throwing a few warm up pitches. It hit Felix’s mitt, dead center of the strike zone. He was once again impressed by his incredible speed. It would be tough for the batters to get a hold of it. He took his glove off to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and Jisung had to look away, since his heart was beating so fast. 

He hated him. He hated that he was so attractive that he made his heart do stupid little flips inside his chest like that. He hated all those confusing words he had said to him the other day, that had him thinking nonstop about him. He hated that he kind of liked the way he smiled, and he really hated that he was so good at baseball. He could see the confidence radiating from him as Chan fist bumped him before heading back to the dugout. 

Minho made his way to the mound, and Jisung rolled his eyes at the cheers coming from the stands. Felix wasn’t wrong when he said he was a prodigy and everyone knew who he was. He was the team's ace—their baseball star. He looked over to see Felix looking a little nervous, but he smiled as he put his thumb up in the air, signaling that he was alright.

He knew Jisung would be worried about him, and he was trying to tell him that everything was fine. He put his thumb in the air too, knowing he would appreciate it.

He told him he would watch him, and help him analyze his game after. It was something Jisung always did to help him. He didn’t even bring a book this time. He was planning on watching the whole game, even though he would usually read whenever Felix’s team was fielding. 

But he couldn’t help but be extremely curious about Minho’s pitching. His eyes slid over to the mound where he was kicking the dirt off his cleats and messing around with the rosin bag in his hands. He looked calm and collected, and Jisung was definitely staring at him. 

Maybe Minho was right a little bit—that maybe he did stare at him a lot more than the other players. He couldn’t help himself. Even if he wished he could tear his eyes away, he couldn’t, as he watched him strike out three batters in a row. 

Jisung was mesmerized. Every pitch was perfectly placed, strategized and executed. Sure, he had seen good pitchers before, but no one even came close to the talent he had. Minho even gave Felix a high five on the way off the mound as they headed back into the dugout. He could see Felix’s eyes sparkling, and Jisung felt his heart flip in his chest again.

“Do you think Felix will hit a homerun?” Hyunjin questioned, as the lead off batter struck out, bringing Felix up to the plate. He watched as Felix did his little routine before stepping into the batter’s box. He stretched his neck to both sides, tapped the bat to the plate twice, and got into position. 

“Felix isn’t really known for his home run hitting, but possibly,” he informed him, and that made Hyunjin clap his hands loudly.

“Let’s go Felix!” he cheered, and Jisung had to place his hands over his ears at his loud voice. It took everything in him not to slap his palm over his mouth to keep him quiet, afraid that Minho might see them. He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn’t help it. 

Felix hit a pop fly to the outfield, causing Hyunjin to frown, and the next batter hit a groundout to first base. The inning was over, and Jisung’s eyes were already staring at the stairs of the dugout in anticipation.

Minho was up to pitch again. Jisung watched him intently as he took his position on the dirt. His moves were fluid and his body looked relaxed. Jisung watched in awe as he struck out another three batters, and again in the next inning. He also couldn’t deny that smile of his was beautiful and bright on his face. He blushed, having to look away when he punched the air with a celebratory fist. 

By the time it hit the fifth inning, the other team was getting stomped on. It was eight to nothing, and the home team crowd was going wild. Minho was getting ready to pitch again, and Jisung found himself smiling as he watched him take the mound. It was almost like he was a different person. That asshole he thought he knew was disappearing as he watched the happy smile on his face, high fiving Felix every time they left the field. 

He flinched when the guy in front of him started screaming.

“Hey! Pitcher! You’re overrated as fuck!” he screamed, and that made Jisung’s eyes go wide. It was loud , and Jisung felt his heart slam in his chest when he saw Minho turn his head. His eyes scanned the area of the heckler, and Jisung flinched when Minho’s gaze connected with his. 

That smile was suddenly gone, completely wiped from his face. He was expecting a glare to form, but instead there was an expression on his face that Jisung couldn’t decipher. He had a terrifying stare, with a slight downturn of his lips. He swallowed thickly, feeling those intense eyes bore into him. 

Minho looked away, bringing his focus back on the batter who was walking up to home plate. He could see his muscles were no longer relaxed, and he seemed a little rigid. 

“Oh shit,” Hyunjin’s voice brought him back to earth. “He totally just saw you, didn’t he?” 

Jisung nodded. His heart was stuck in his throat and his words were once again trapped inside him. 

Minho walked the batter. He could see him breathing heavily on the mound, and he could see Felix trying to tell him it was okay. Minho flicked his head away, taking a deep breath as he lined back up for the second batter. 

Jisung flinched as he hit the ball deep into left field. The cheers from the away team were too loud for his liking. Minho’s fingers clenched into fists, swearing loudly as he watched the batter from first cross home plate. 

And it continued. 

He walked a second batter, and Felix took the opportunity to call a meeting on the mound. Jisung could see him glaring at Felix intensely. He couldn’t see what they were saying, since they had their mitts over their mouths. 

“Dude, he’s falling apart,” Hyunjin mentioned to him then, and Jisung bit his lip. 

“I told you he’s overrated,” the guy in front of them said. That made Jisungs irritation spike. 

“Hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up?” he snapped, and Hyunjin’s eyes went wide. He knew it was probably bad to start a fight with a guy who was at least four inches taller than him, but he wasn’t about to let the guy bad mouth Minho to his face. 

The guy in front of them turned around with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time he folded on the mound, but here you all are, kissing his ass like he’s good or something.” 

Hyunjin had to grab him by the shoulders to hold him back. 

“Let it go, Jisung,” he warned him. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. Because sure, Minho was a dick, but he was an amazing baseball player, so he wasn’t about to let him talk shit—and he kind of wanted to punch the asshole in the face for ruining his hiding spot. When he looked up back towards the game, Minho was staring at him from the mound. It shocked him, seeing his intense glare on him when he should have been focused on the game. He looked absolutely furious. 

The infield meeting was over, and Minho was once again looking tense as he got ready to pitch. The crowd gasped when the ball connected with the batters shoulder. Minho froze, his body stuck in the final throwing position as he watched the batter grab at his shoulder in pain. 

“Take your base.” 

The umpire directed him to first, and Minho looked like he was about to lose it. He took his hat off, rubbing at the sweat on his forehead with his arm. He covered his face with his hand, as he slowly made his way back to the rubber. 

He was crumbling. He was throwing wild pitch after wild pitch. He couldn’t find the strike zone at all. The bases were full, and he was looking around at them nervously. 

Minho flinched when their coach signaled for a pitching change. He threw the ball right into Felix’s chest, ripping his mitt off his hand and stomping his way towards the dugout. 

“Oh, he’s pissed,” Hyunjin commented. Jisung could only nod. He suddenly felt guilty, and he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t do anything wrong. All he did was show up to his brother's baseball game. He was well within his right to do that. 

Besides, it probably had nothing to do with him showing up. Sometimes, pitchers lost their stuff in later innings, even if Minho was still below in his pitch count. 

The reliever that came in was able to shut it down, only allowing one more run to get batted in. They were still up by six, and as long as they could contain their batters, then they would win. 

Jisung couldn’t help but notice that Felix looked a little shaken up. To be fair, it was probably frustrating to have to deal with Minho’s constant changing and emotions. He went from high-fiving him to throwing the baseball right into his chest. That made Jisung frown as he thought of Felix’s hurt expression. He was still an asshole and a huge brat.

He almost let that smile fool him. 

It was finally the seventh-inning stretch, and Jisung decided that he was going to use the bathroom. He thought maybe he could meet up with Felix too, to try and give him some words of encouragement. He definitely looked a little down ever since Minho was taken out of the game. He just hoped he wasn’t blaming himself. 

When he rounded the corner for the bathroom, he gasped when somebody suddenly grabbed him by the elbow. Their grip was tight, and he felt all the blood flow in his arm getting cut off. He was being pulled away and he almost stumbled, trying to keep up with the sudden direction change. 

He looked to see Minho dragging him, not even waiting for his feet to catch up. 

“H—Hey! Let go of me!” He tried to rip his arm out of his hold, but it was no use. He was strong—a lot stronger than him. He could see the way his muscles tensed in his bicep as he squeezed even harder. Jisung winced, feeling the pain of his aggressive hold. He yanked him down towards the locker room, and Jisung was starting to get scared.

Everyone was back on the field, getting ready for the bottom of the seventh, so the entire locker room was empty. 

“Minho, I’m serious! Let go of—” he tried to get out, but Minho slammed him up against the lockers. He whined a bit as his back hit the cold metal. Minho held his arm across his chest, pushing him into them even harder. 

“Didn’t I fucking tell you not to come today?” he hissed, and Jisung felt that his body was shaking. He wanted to snap back, but he couldn’t. He was trembling, seeing that dark gaze of his. 

Minho’s eyes searched his face as he gritted his teeth. 

“You’re seriously getting on my nerves.” 

That made Jisung’s heart twinge. 

“I didn’t fucking do anything.” He finally found his voice, even though it was shaky. 

“You don’t listen,” he growled, and Jisung scoffed. 

“I don’t have to listen to you!” 

Jisung couldn’t stop the whimper from leaving his lips as Minho slammed his hand next to his face, making the metal ring loudly. He flinched, turning his head away. He was expecting him to continue yelling at him, but his eyes shot open when Minho grabbed his chin in his hand, bringing his eyes back to face him. 

“Are you scared of me, Jisung?” Jisung felt his heart fly into his throat, choking him as Minho pressed a thumb against his bottom lip. “Because you should be.” 

Jisung clenched his fingers into fists. 

“What are you going to do? Hit me? I’ll tell my brother and then he’ll tell your coach and you won’t be able to play baseball ever again,” he threatened, and that made Minho chortle. 

“No baby, I would never hit you,” he whispered, leaning his lips near his ear, “but I’ll make your life hell if you don’t stay away from me.” 

He flushed deeply. He could feel it spreading from his cheeks and all the way down his neck. His skin was hot from where Minho’s warm breath had tickled him. Before Jisung could say anything else, Minho pulled away, tapping underneath his chin like he did the other day. He made his way out of the locker room, leaving Jisung with an unhinged jaw and more confusing words. 

Jisung could barely breathe. He hadn’t realized when he had started holding his breath. His heart was racing, and his knees were incredibly wobbly. 

He was fucking crazy. 

It took him a moment to get his head back, and when he walked up the stairs he had to hold tightly to the railing. 

He made his way back over to the bleachers and Hyunjin gave him a weird look. 

“You got a stomach ache or something? You were gone for an entire inning.”

He didn’t even get a chance to use the bathroom. Jisung noticed it was already the top of the ninth. The game was almost over, and the crowd erupted when the final batter had struck out. 

He desperately wanted to cheer with the rest of the crowd, but he could feel Minho’s gaze on him from the dugout. He only let his eyes flicker over for a moment, his racing heart forcing him to look away. He could feel him staring at him intensely, even when he left the bleachers. 

He texted Felix that he and Hyunjin would meet him back at the dorms, feeling relieved when he couldn’t feel those eyes on him anymore. 

He didn’t tell Felix about what happened in the locker room. He didn’t tell him about what Minho had said to him either. He wouldn’t even know what to say or how to say it. Felix didn’t need to know anyway—it would definitely just worry him if he knew that Minho was giving him a hard time. Felix was under the impression that Minho had no idea he was at the game. He was shocked that he didn’t mention to Felix that he had seen him in the bleachers. 

They had won, and Felix gushed about how their coach was thrilled with his performance when they got back to Jisung’s dorm that evening. He fielded and batted well, batting in a few runs and even crossing home plate himself. He didn’t mention anything about Minho, which surprised him. He wondered if they were in an argument, since Felix spent the night in their dorm on the floor, and refused to talk about him. 

Unlike Jisung, Felix tended to ignore his problems. 

Jisung had spent the entire weekend thinking about their conversation in the locker room. It seemed that every time Minho would speak to him, he was left even more confused. 

They were currently sitting in the library studying, and waiting for Hyunjin to show up. Felix had practice later, and Jisung was definitely going to go, but he was feeling a little anxious about it. 

He wondered what Minho’s reaction would be when he saw him. He knew he would glare at him with those eyes again, but he wasn’t going to let him threaten him, and there was no way he was going to back down. Even if it was getting incredibly hard to control the speed of his heart whenever he was around him, it wasn’t going to deter him. 

Felix was listening to music as he was trying to focus, and Jisung was there for moral support. He knew he was already having a tough time in his classes, so he promised he would study with him a few times a week to help keep him on track. 

He was about to start his paper for his creative writing class, but he felt an arm being wrapped around his chest. He was going to complain, because Hyunjin was about twenty minutes late with his coffee. 

His words were once again caught in his throat when he looked up to see that it wasn’t Hyunjin, but Minho glaring down at him. 

“Studying?” Minho questioned, and that made Felix pop out his headphones. They were definitely in a fight, because Felix looked incredibly nervous now.

Felix nodded his head quickly, and Jisung bit his tongue hard so he could get a fucking grip. He was so tired of losing his composure around him. Just the slightest touch had him losing his breath. His entire body was on fire, and he really hoped he couldn’t feel his heart beating wildly. 

He smacked Minho's arm, which was pressing him to the back of his chair.

“Get off me,” he demanded, hitting him over and over. Minho grabbed his wrist with his other hand, stopping his movements. He ended up releasing his chest, but he didn’t let go of his wrist as he sat down next to him. Jisung felt his skin burning at his touch. 

“Where have you been? You skipped our early practice yesterday, and you haven’t been to the dorm since Saturday,” Minho accused him. Jisung could see Felix’s cheeks turn a little pink, getting called out like that. 

“I’ve—I’ve been with Jisung. I needed to focus on my studies a bit, since I'm already having a hard time, and he tutors me,” he told him. That wasn’t a total lie, but he had definitely been avoiding him. It was obvious, even if he tried to deny it. 

Minho eyed him carefully, but seemed to accept his response with a soft sigh. 

“Look, I’m sorry about Saturday,” he apologized, and Jisung’s jaw almost hit the floor. “I can get in my head sometimes, and Chan told me to tell you I was sorry.” 

Of course he wouldn’t apologize on his own. Jisung wanted to roll his eyes—so much for thinking he was genuine. Leave it to Minho to give a shitty and forced half assed apology. 

But his heart was racing again as he noticed that Minho’s thumb was caressing his wrist, that strong grip had relaxed to a soft one. 

“It’s—It’s cool.” Felix sounded awkward. 

“And don’t ever skip practice again,” he warned, and that made him nod his head multiple times. 

“I won’t. I’m sorry.” 

Jisung jumped when Minho’s gaze flicked over to him. 

“And what are you doing tonight?” he questioned, tucking Jisung’s hair behind his ear. He flinched and flushed at his touch, scowling at him. He could see Felix’s confused eyes on them as Minho blinked at him patiently for a response. 

“Going to Felix’s baseball practice,” he answered confidently. He could see Minho bite his lip with a soft smirk. 

“I’m sure you have something better to do,” he suggested, his tone a little darker now. 

“Nope, not really.” He shrugged. He winced as Minho’s hold on his wrist tightened again. 

“Don't test me, sweetheart. I meant what I said.” 

He finally let go of his wrist, and Jisung had to hold back a sigh of relief. He groaned as he tapped the top of his head with his baseball mitt, which he seemed to always be carrying around. Jisung felt his heart flutter as he winked at him before turning on his heel. 

“What the…What the hell was that about?” Felix looked between Jisung and Minho, the latter now making his way out of the library doors. 

“Nothing. He’s just a dick.” 

He was burning red as he picked up his pencil and tried to refocus on studying. Once again, Minho had a stupid effect on him, causing his heart to race uncontrollably. 

“Jisung…” 

He sighed, knowing Felix was worried. He could see it on his face. He also looked disappointed, like he knew he was keeping something from him now. 

“Seriously Lix, don’t worry about it, it’s nothing. He just hates me and I hate him, and he doesn’t want me at the field. It’s the same shit as day one.” 

That was mostly the truth. He didn’t need to tell him about the locker room, and he also didn’t need to tell him about Minho’s confusing words. 

“Okay…promise me he’s not messing with you? I know how he can be, and I don’t want him hurting you. He can be a dick.” That made Jisung chuckle. Whatever Minho had done to him must have really pissed him off for him to be calling him names like that. 

“He’s not, but seriously, what the hell did he say to you that had you avoiding him all weekend?” 

Felix furrowed his brows thinking about it. 

“He…He said he wished I never joined the team,” he admitted, twisting his pencil between his fingers. 

That made Jisung clench his fingers into fists.  

He was such a fucking asshole. 

“Don’t listen to anything he says, Felix. He’s a hotheaded jerk, and he was probably just pissed that his pitching turned to absolute shit which got him yanked from the mound.” 

He quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure that he wasn’t there. That made Felix laugh. 

“You’re good this time.” 

Jisung laughed too, and it was nice to see Felix getting that smile back on his face. He looked even more thrilled when Hyunjin walked through the door with their coffee order in hand. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m so late,” he apologized, sitting down next to Felix. “The espresso machine was broken at the cafe I stopped at, so I went to one across campus to get your latte.” 

Felix blushed a little as he handed it to him. 

“You didn’t have to do that. You could’ve just texted me and I could’ve gotten something else.” 

Hyunjin shrugged with a sweet smile. 

“It’s no big deal. I know it’s your favorite and you seemed like you needed a pick-me-up.” 

If Jisung wasn’t so happy for him, he would’ve fake gagged at their flirting. Hyunjin definitely noticed Felix’s strange behavior over the weekend as well. 

The thing about Felix was it was hard to get his feelings out of him, especially if he was really upset and wanted to suppress those emotions. So it was nice to have someone else able to read him easily. 

They studied together until Hyunjin had to meet up with his friend for a group project, and Jisung went with Felix to his baseball practice. 

He hopped up on the bleachers as Chan called Felix over to start their warm up. He didn’t see Minho yet, which surprised him because it was rare for him to be late. Sometimes Jisung wondered how much time he spent practicing, since he seemed to always be throwing on the mound with a sheen of sweat whenever he and Felix arrived. 

He took out his book and started reading. The weather was about to start turning soon, so he was taking advantage of the outdoors while he could. He had picked a new book off the shelf earlier that morning, excited to explore a new world. 

His attention was snatched away from the pages as he heard loud footsteps stomping up the bleachers. He looked to see Minho taking them two at a time, as he twisted his baseball cap backwards. 

Jisung winced as Minho placed his hands on top of his, slamming his book shut without his bookmark. Luckily, he was only about ten pages in, so it wouldn’t be difficult to find his place this time. 

“It would be really cool if you stopped doing that,” Jisung complained, lifting his gaze to glare at him. 

“Why? Does it bother you?” he teased, and Jisung’s jaw tensed. His hands were still on his, and Jisung hoped he hadn’t felt him starting to sweat. 

“Let go,” he snapped, but Minho just grabbed the book out of his hands. 

“What are we reading today?” he asked, inspecting the cover “ A Love I’ve Waited For , the latest romance novel and best seller.” 

Jisung tried to snatch it back but Minho was quicker than him, standing up and flipping to the first page. 

“Give it back to me, stop it.”

He sounded whiny and pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. He just bought that book before he came to college. It was a limited edition copy signed by the author, and the last thing he wanted was for it to get ruined. 

Minho closed it shut and tucked it underneath his arm. 

“Then tell me why you keep coming here,” he demanded, and Jisung felt his heart stutter. 

“You’re not serious, right? I’m here to watch Felix play, you idiot. I’ve told you that.” 

That seemed to piss him off. 

“God, you’re so fucking snippy,” he glared at him now, and Jisung rolled his eyes. 

“Well you’re being an asshole again.”

Minho leaned in then, causing Jisung to have to catch himself on the bleachers behind him or else he would have fallen. 

“Is that what you really think? Because you keep calling me an asshole, but then you’re constantly eye fucking me—coming to all my practices and games just to stare at me for hours.” 

Jisung blushed brightly. 

“ What? N—No I am not ,” he denied, sounding flustered.

Minho reached out to tickle underneath his chin. He couldn’t slap his hand away either since he was holding himself up on the bleachers. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? Want to tell me, Jisung?” he questioned, his voice teasing. 

His words were gone again. Minho was so close that he could feel his breath on his face. Jisung felt his pulse quickening as Minho bent in even closer, his lips dangerously close to his. 

“Minho! What are you doing? Get over here.” 

Chan called out, and something immediately changed in Minho’s expression. His eyes closed and he let out a deep sigh. 

“Fuck, I really don’t have time for this,” he grumbled then, his attitude completely changing. He pulled back, and Jisung whimpered softly when Minho tapped his head with his novel unexpectedly. He tossed it into his lap, and Jisung pouted up at him. 

“Keep your eyes on the book or get out of here.” 

Jisung watched as Minho turned and hopped down the bleachers. His heart was thumping so hard he could feel it all over his body. 

Minho’s words were already eating at him. He had called him pretty, again— and there was no way he was fucking him with his eyes. He was just watching him play baseball. Sure, he was mesmerized watching him pitch, and sure, he thought he was really hot more than he’d like to admit, but that didn’t mean anything. He still thought he was an asshole and he still absolutely hated him. 

So what was his fucking problem?

His emotional instability was making him dizzy. First he was bullying him, then he was borderline flirting with him, and then he acted like he wished he would disappear into thin air. He made absolutely no sense, and Jisung knew his best bet was to just ignore him the best he could.

He could see Felix looking at him concerned. His eyes flicked over to Minho with a glare as he approached him near home plate. Minho just smacked him on the back with his mitt, a smirk coming to his lips as he said something he couldn’t decipher from the bleachers. 

Jisung’s eyes went wide when Felix lunged at him, and Chan immediately reached out to hold him back. 

Minho chuckled, putting his hands in the air with a shrug. Chan looked between them with a glare, clearly telling them to knock it off. 

Jisung opened his book to read, and decided to keep his gaze off Minho and Felix as they practiced. He only watched when Felix was in the batting cage, slugging ball after ball. He was pissed off. Whatever Minho said must have really bothered him. The two of them always seemed to be on each other's bad sides. 

When practice was over, Felix instantly made his way over to him. Jisung smiled at him, trying to cheer him up, but as their eyes connected he just looked frustrated. 

He hopped down from the bleachers, closing his book and trying to keep his eyes off the mound where he could feel Minho staring at him. His heart was still fluttering from earlier, so he couldn’t handle a glance of him sweaty and hot from practice right now. 

“Hey,” he greeted, and Felix gave him a tight smile.

“Hey.”

He shrugged his bag over his shoulder, and he kept his gaze towards the ground as they walked. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and Felix shook his head. 

“Nothing is wrong.” He was lying. Jisung just sighed. 

“Felix.” He pushed him, only because he could see how bothered he was. He clenched his jaw, like he was trying to decide if he wanted to say something or not. 

“Minho was just being a dick again,” he told him reluctantly, and Jisung wasn’t going to accept that vague response. 

“What did he say about you this time?” he could feel his anger spiking. He was such a dick to Felix, and he was an even bigger asshole to him. He hated him. That’s what was going on inside his head when he looked at him. 

“It…wasn’t about me.” He looked irritated now, and Jisung looked at him confused. He grabbed him by the wrist to stop him. Felix looked guilty, like he regretted saying anything—and he knew Jisung was going to make him spill. 

“Tell me.” 

Felix sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit. 

“He basically called you a loser, and accused you of having no friends because you come to our practices every day.”

That made Jisung laugh. He wasn’t particularly wrong , per se. He only had one friend and his brother, but Jisung didn’t like to hang around many people. 

“Ignore him. I don’t care what he thinks about me.” 

He said that confidently, because he honestly didn’t really care what people thought about him. The same things were said about him in high school, causing Felix to get into minor fights. He never needed him to do that, because he genuinely didn’t care. 

Although, he couldn’t deny that he had been curious to know what the hell Minho had been thinking about him lately. He definitely didn’t feel his heart twinge a little bit, knowing now that he thought he was a loser. He was such a prick. 

“I’m not going to let him badmouth you in front of me,” Felix grumbled, and that made Jisung smile. 

“It’s not worth getting into a fight over and getting suspended from the team.” He eyed him carefully. Felix blushed, realizing Jisung must have seen him try to attack him earlier. It was always sweet when Felix got protective of him. He had been kind of a nerd compared to him his entire life, so he heard things like that constantly. He never really cared, but Felix always did. 

“If he really starts to bother you, you would tell me right? Because I saw him messing with you before practice,” he mentioned, and Jisung sighed.

“Yes, I would tell you, but seriously don’t worry about me, and just try to ignore him.” 

That made Felix smile a little bit, even though Jisung could tell he was still a little worried. His mood changed though when he received a text from Hyunjin, telling him that he should come over and watch movies all night again. 

“Can I sleep on your floor tonight?” he asked, and that made Jisung roll his eyes.

“I’m sure Hyunjin has enough room in his bed for you.” 

Felix blushed brightly, and pushed at his shoulder. Jisung laughed, seeing his pink cheeks. 

He had told Felix to ignore him, and that was his plan too, but that was easier said than done when he was still following him all over campus. He groaned when he saw him walking up near his picnic table in the courtyard. He didn’t even try to stop him from snatching the book out of his hands, closing it shut and placing it on the table. 

“You’re really starting to piss me off,” he grumbled, and that made Minho smirk. 

“So it’s working then?” 

He sighed as he tried to grab his book back, but Minho slid it away from him. He watched as Minho took out his sandwich, like usual. 

“If you hate me so much, then shouldn’t you be avoiding me?” he questioned, and that made Minho freeze. 

“Who said I hated you?” he asked, and that made Jisung roll his eyes. 

“You’re not serious, right?” he shot him an incredulous look, and Minho blinked back at him as he chewed slowly. 

“I never said I hated you.” 

Jisung wasn’t sure why his heart jumped in his chest. His voice was gentle when he spoke, and maybe he was just imagining that softness in his eyes. 

“Then why do you always threaten me not to come to the baseball field? And why are you always glaring at me?” 

Now that he was asking the questions, he couldn’t stop. Minho continued chewing, and Jisung was getting irritated at how long it was taking him to respond. 

“I don’t hate you, but that doesn’t mean I want you around.” 

That made a scowl form on Jisung’s face. 

“You’re a dick.” 

Minho chuckled softly with a shrug of his shoulders. He continued to eat and hoard Jisung’s book from him. He hadn’t brought his history textbook today, and Jisung pouted as he ruined his afternoon once again. He had really wanted to finish reading his book, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. 

He rested his cheek on the table, and the soft breeze fluttered over his cheeks. He decided that if Minho wasn’t going to let him read peacefully, then maybe he could ignore him by shutting his eyes a bit before class. He could feel him staring at him though, so pretending to sleep was a little difficult. 

He groaned when he heard his phone go off. Before he could see who texted him, Minho had reached out and grabbed it from beside him. 

“Hey, quit touching my shit.” He tried to grab it, but Minho held it up in the air. 

“Your brother texted you,” he told him casually, and Jisung was starting to get really annoyed.

“Give me my phone, Minho, I’m serious.” 

“Do you have another brother? What a cute family picture.” he said then, ignoring him. He turned his phone screen towards him. The background picture was lit up for him to see. Jisung felt his heart ache in his chest a bit. 

“No it’s not. Felix is my only brother.” He was finally able to grab his phone back. He looked at the picture for only a second before placing it down on the table. He didn’t even bother to check Felix’s text.

“Then who is it?” he asked, and Jisung had no idea why he even gave a shit.

“Why the fuck do you care?” he snapped. Once again they were doing this. 

“Can’t you ever just answer a question without getting so damn snippy with me?” he barked back, his irritated eyes narrowing in on him. 

Jisung clenched his fingers into fists. Not only did Minho make him incredibly emotionally unstable, but bringing up that picture made it worse. He hadn’t talked about it all summer. Felix knew not to say anything about it, so it had been a while since it had been on his mind. 

It was quiet between them for a few minutes as Minho finished eating his lunch. Jisung was shocked that he was opening his mouth to speak. 

“It’s my ex-boyfriend.” He glanced down at the table where he was anxiously picking at his fingers. 

He could feel Minho staring at him again, those intense eyes causing a slight blush to form on his cheeks. 

“You have your ex-boyfriend as your background picture on your phone?” 

Jisung couldn’t read his tone, but he was pretty sure that he sounded annoyed.

He wanted to snap back at him again, telling him it was none of his business, but his heart was heavy now, so he just shrugged—and to be honest, he knew that it was maybe a little weird. 

“So what happened, did you break up with him or did he break up with you?” Minho questioned, and Jisung bit his lip. The last person he thought he would be talking to about this was Minho. He also had no idea why he even cared. 

“We…kind of broke up with each other, but I guess he initiated it. He moved away for college so…we just decided to call it quits.” 

Jisung could tell that he didn’t want to make it work. Which is why he put on a fake smile and said he felt the same way, even if he hadn’t. They had definitely been growing apart, and they had left on good terms, but it still hurt. He had loved him. 

Minho was a little too quiet, and Jisung looked up to see a deep frown on his lips. 

“You can do a lot better anyway.” Minho looked away as he said it, and Jisung swore he saw a little blush on his cheeks. 

“Shut up, he was nice to me.” 

Minho rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“Well, he clearly broke your heart, so he obviously wasn’t that nice.” 

That made Jisung flush then. He had no idea what to say now, so he forced his gaze back to the table in front of him. It didn’t last long though, because Minho had tapped his chin up with his fingers, making their eyes meet. 

“And besides, with a pretty face like yours, you can have any guy you want.” Jisung’s heart flipped inside his chest as Minho smirked at him. “But make sure to keep your mouth shut so they don’t hear that snappy attitude of yours.” 

He panicked and slapped his hand away, causing Minho to chuckle. 

“Fuck off, and don’t touch me.” He was burning, he could feel it. His smirk widened. 

“Ah, see? There you go again. You’re so cute but then you open your mouth,” he teased, and Jisung couldn’t believe him. 

“What—What the hell is wrong with you? Stop saying shit like that.” 

Pretty. Cute.  

Even though he didn’t mean it, and was definitely just trying to piss him off, judging by that last comment. 

Jisung had no idea what he was thinking as he stared at him with that stupid antagonistic smirk on his face. 

Their staring contest was interrupted when Felix had texted him again. Minho’s eyes glanced down first, and just like the other day, his expression immediately changed. 

He started throwing his bag over his shoulder, and that smirk had turned into a glare. 

“What?” Jisung questioned sassily, suddenly feeling insecure as he frowned at him. 

“I better not see you later,” he warned, and Jisung clenched his fingers into fists again. 

“You better close your eyes then,” he quipped, and he could see Minho trying to bite back an irritated smirk. 

Jisung groaned when he tapped the top of his head with his book. He thought he was going to give it back, but he was surprised when he pulled it away from his grasp. 

“Well, then I guess I’ll hang onto this for now.” 

Jisung’s jaw clenched when he started backing away, tucking the book underneath his arm. 

“Hey! Give it back!” he yelled, gaining the attention of the few other people in the courtyard. 

He watched as Minho left through the doors, ignoring him purposefully. Jisung bit his lip in anger, slamming his fist on the table and causing his phone to light up as he bumped it. 

His eyes caught the picture of him, Felix, their dog Bbama, and his ex-boyfriend, smiling brightly into the sun, laughing at something that was funny at the time, but he couldn’t remember now. 

He sighed, sitting down and feeling incredibly empty, being reminded of his broken heart and not being able to distract himself from it now. 

He thought about texting Felix and seeing if his book was in his dorm. He was sure Minho went back to his room everyday to shower, so he could have Felix look for it, saying he left it there. But if his book was with Minho’s things, then he would definitely have questions—and he had no desire to try and answer them. 

He was still flustered about what had happened earlier. Minho was so hot and cold, and Jisung couldn’t keep up. 

He showed up early to the baseball field, knowing that Minho would likely already be there throwing on the mound. He told Felix he had to grab something from Hyunjin who was at the library, and planned to stop there before their practice started. 

He found he was practically running all the way there. He couldn’t believe how childish he was being, stealing his shit from him. He had wanted to finish it tonight, and he had left off in the middle of the page, and in the middle of one of the final chapters. He was itching to read it, and if Minho even so much as put a tiny scrape on it, he was going to kill him. 

He was breathing heavily as he finally made his way to the infield, where he was happy for the first time ever to see Minho warming up on the mound. He was by himself, with a bucket of balls at his side, throwing pitch after pitch at the backstop. 

He must not have noticed him approaching, because he was winding up and throwing as hard as he could. Jisung thought he looked angry, as the sweat poured down his neck. He was wearing a loose fitting shirt, tucked into his baseball pants. Jisung had to tear his eyes away before he could let his gaze fall any lower to the curve of his ass, begging to be looked at. 

He grabbed a baseball that was laying abandoned on the ground on the field, winding up himself and launching it at the center of his back. Minho actually let out a yelp, and he had to hold himself back from laughing. He was proud of his aim, mentally thanking Felix for showing him how to throw better recently. He saw Minho tug out his headphones then. No wonder he couldn’t hear him. 

“What the fuck?” he hissed, rubbing his back and glaring at him. 

“Strike!” Jisung laughed, but Minho didn’t look amused. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he was pissed, actually. Jisung hadn’t seen him so mad since their locker room spat they had the other day. 

“I’m here to get my book back,” he glared back at him, “so where is it?” 

That made Minho scoff. 

“I don’t know. I probably left it at my dorm, or maybe I forgot it on the table in the library,” he shrugged, sounding annoyed. That made Jisung’s heart drop. 

“You left it in the library? That book is a limited edition!” he yelled, and that made Minho flinch. 

“Look, get out of here. I have a lot of shit to work on today so—”

“Well that fucking sucks, because I’m not leaving until you give me my book back!” 

He was getting way too worked up. It was just a book, and he needed to calm down, but he hated the way Minho was looking at him like he didn’t matter at the moment. It was a lot different than his eyes from earlier in the courtyard. He was acting like an asshole again.

He felt the frustrated tears welling in his eyes. He had no idea why he was so upset, but Minho had been messing with him too much lately.

Minho’s entire face changed, blinking at him with wide eyes. 

Jisung clenched his teeth, seeing Minho walking up to him then. He flinched when he reached out for him, and he felt his breath hitch as his hand cupped his cheek. Jisung’s misted eyes connected with his, and that unreadable expression was on his face again. 

“It’s in my bag. Just—Just give me a second.” His voice had warped into a kinder tone, completely unrecognizable. His hand fell away quickly, and he was jogging over to the dugout, digging through his bag. Jisung felt relief when he saw his book, with Minho racing back over to him. 

“Here.” 

He blushed as he tapped his head softly with it before placing it in his hands. 

Now he felt incredibly embarrassed. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. 

It was quiet between them then, as Jisung flipped through his book and Minho kicked the dirt with his cleats. He couldn’t believe he almost just cried in front of him. He seriously needed to get a grip. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to come to the baseball field?” Minho asked then, his tone still gentle. Jisung’s gaze flicked up to meet his eyes, but they weren’t angry like they were earlier. He looked serious, and Jisung frowned. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t tell me what to do?” He snapped back, and that made Minho chuckle. 

“So snippy.” His smile was fond, and Jisung felt his heart race. He clenched the book in his hands as Minho fixed his hat on his head. He could see the sweat matting his hair together underneath his cap. He grabbed the baseball from the ground then, tossing it in the air with a smirk. 

“Turn around,” He demanded, and Jisung raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“Turn. Around,” he enunciated slowly. 

He could have argued, but instead he just did as he was told. He wailed when he felt the ball connecting with his back with a smack. He fell forward a little bit, and he turned around quickly when he heard Minho laughing loudly. 

His heart absolutely exploded in his chest at the beautiful sound. His wide smile showed off his front teeth and his eyes crinkled adorably. He was blushing again, desperately trying to will away those thoughts. 

“You threw that at me so much harder!” he accused, rubbing at his back. 

“Oh, don’t be a baby, I barely even tossed it at you.” 

Jisung scowled at him, grabbing the ball from the ground and getting ready to throw it at him again. Unfortunately, he was way too slow, and Minho was incredibly athletic and quick. He wasn’t even sure how he had his arm twisted behind his back before he could even register it. 

“Ow, ow! Stop it , ” he whined as Minho twisted his arm a little too hard. Minho tugged him in so that his back was pressed to his front. He felt his entire body shiver as Minho’s lips pressed to his ear. 

“You started it,” he teased, and Jisung almost let out an embarrassing whimper. 

“No, you started it. You took my book from me.” 

“No, I told you not to come and once again you refused to listen,” he told him, and Jisung tried to glare at him over his shoulder. His entire body froze when Minho grabbed his chin in his free hand. Those intense eyes had his words stuck in his throat again. 

“Quit distracting me, Jisung,” he whispered. 

Before he could try and choke anything out as a reply, Minho let go of his arm and gently pushed him away. His heart was hammering in his chest. Especially with the way Minho was staring at him with that unreadable expression again. 

“Hey guys.” Jisung’s head whipped around to see Chan waving at them. He placed his bag down by home plate before grabbing his mitt and walking right up to him. 

“Jisung, right? Felix’s brother?” he asked, smiling brightly at him. Jisung nodded multiple times, still a little flustered from a few minutes ago. 

“Y—Yeah, that’s me.” He couldn’t believe he was still stuttering, but Minho had him all shaken up. 

“Hanging out for practice again today?” 

Jisung’s gaze flicked over to see Minho glaring at him again from the mound. His heart burned, as they were back to those irritated eyes. 

He didn’t get him at all. 

“I am. Felix likes when I can help him analyze his game, so I come watch him,” he told him, and that made Chan grin widely. 

He winced when he heard a ball smack loudly against the backstop. Minho had just whipped it so hard that it ricocheted almost all the way back to his feet. 

“Get off the field. We have practice,” he snapped at him, and Jisung really couldn’t keep up with his constantly changing emotions. He was starting to get whiplash. 

“So, you guys are twins, right? Do you play baseball too?” 

That made Jisung chuckle, because he totally ignored what Minho just said and he could see him glowering. 

“No, I don’t. I played tee ball when I was a kid, but that was about it. Felix took all the baseball genes.” 

Chan laughed then, placing his hand on his shoulder to segue into his next topic. 

“Hey, I was telling Felix that he should invite you to the party next week, after the game.” 

Jisung flinched again as he heard another loud ball smack the backstop. Minho was clearly getting more and more pissed, but he didn’t care. 

“Sure, that sounds like a lot of fun.” 

He heard Minho scoff then as he sent another ball smashing into the backstop. 

“Minho, you’re seriously going to throw out your arm one of these days.” Chan chided him. He stretched his shoulder then, glaring at them both.

“And you’re both seriously pissing me off,” he snapped, and once again that attitude that Jisung loathed was back. 

“We’re just talking…” Jisung grumbled, rolling his eyes. That must have been the wrong thing to say because Minho was stomping up to him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. 

“I want to work on my fastball, so how about you listen for once and beat it, or go sit on the bleachers and read your book quietly like a good boy, yeah?” 

He could feel the tips of his ears burning as Minho smirked at him. 

Jisung's words had disappeared, but he wasn’t shocked at this point. That was the effect that Minho had on him. 

He saw Chan press at Minho’s chest, causing him to let go of Jisung’s shirt, which was now wrinkled from his fist. 

“Minho, settle down. Leave him alone, he didn’t do anything.” 

“He’s distracting. So get the fuck out of here.” 

That was the last thing he said before he stomped off towards the dugout, slamming his mitt into the bench before heading to the locker room. 

“What’s his fucking problem? I swear I don’t get him at all. Sometimes he acts like he’s this nice guy, but then he’s just a raging asshole.” 

“Don’t take it too personally…I know he can be kind of…well not very nice sometimes, but I swear to you he is. I know it’s no excuse, but I think he’s extra stressed because his dad is coming to the away game next week.” 

Jisung raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why on earth that had anything to do with him being a dick towards him. 

“Minho’s dad coaches in the major leagues. He’s a little…hard on Minho sometimes, especially when he doesn’t pitch well,” he informed him, and Jisung felt his heart soften a little. 

“That doesn’t give him a free pass to be a dick,” he grumbled, making Chan chuckle a little. 

“I know, but really, once you get to know him, he’s actually a pretty sweet guy.” 

Jisung had a hard time believing that at all. Especially with the way he was always harassing him, confusing him, bothering him and threatening him. 

“Sure…” he decided to agree, and that made Chan smile. Chan said he needed to start practice up, and Jisung took that as his cue to get off the field. 

He made his way over to the bleachers, opening up his book and seeing a foreign piece of paper stuck in the center. 

This line reminds me of you. 

Jisung felt his heart skip and his mouth went dry as he read the line he marked lightly with a pencil. 

“Getting any work done around him was impossible. I could never seem to focus, especially when he looked at me with those beautiful eyes, beaming brightly in the sun.” 

When he looked up, Minho had already exited the dugout. He was staring at him from the mound, and he knew his cheeks were burning red. Minho’s face held that unreadable expression again, before he turned and threw a fastball straight into Chan’s awaiting mitt. 

Jisung’s heart wouldn’t slow down. 

And now he was more confused than ever. 

Chapter Text

He hadn’t seen him in a few days. Sometimes he seemed to disappear, especially after he was super pissed off. He was furious at practice, even though Jisung tried his best to keep his eyes off him. Not that he wanted to listen to him, but because he was too flustered to look in his direction anyway. He couldn’t stop rereading the passage he had underlined. Normally he would be pissed that he marked up his book, but he wasn’t. 

He was just confused at this point—because he really didn’t understand Minho at all. 

Even though he tried not to watch him practice, of course he let his eyes wander up to see him pitch a few times, trying not to get caught staring. He had seemed off again, throwing way too many wild pitches, and Felix was having a hard time keeping up. Chan tried to relax him, which pissed him off even more. 

His mind traveled back to their conversation from the other day—that Minho’s dad would be attending their away game. He didn’t really know much about Minho, and the sweet guy that Chan was talking about was definitely hidden behind a lot of layers, because he sure as hell couldn’t see him on the surface. 

He was reading in the courtyard, and it was difficult for him to focus because he kept looking up to see if Minho was going to pop up out of nowhere. For the last few days, he hadn’t been around—and that should have made him feel relieved, but for some reason, he felt this weird, bothered feeling inside his stomach. 

He tried not to think about it. Minho was a dick, and he didn’t make any sense. He was a hotheaded jerk, who claimed he didn’t hate him, but he was having a hard time believing that. 

He messed with him purposely, constantly glared at him, and told him he didn’t want him around multiple times. But then again, he kept calling him pretty, sought him out on campus, and would smile at him with an unreadable expression that Jisung wished he could decipher. 

He sighed, thinking maybe it was better if he stayed away from him. Because Jisung hated him too, until he said those crazy things that made his heart beat so fast that he couldn’t breathe properly. He was a jerk, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how attractive he was, especially when he heard that pretty laugh of his. He was an asshole, until he looked at him with those soft eyes and slight smile. 

And Jisung was so confused, because one minute, he was threatening him to stay away, pushing him back with those intense eyes, but then the next he swore he was tugging him in, flirting with him softly and making him think for just a split second, that he was that sweet guy Chan claimed he was.  

He flipped through the pages in his book, and he knew he was going to have to go back and reread them, not retaining any information as he was distracted in his mind. Even though Minho wasn’t there, he was still bothering him inside his head. 

“Hey.” 

His face shot up to see Hyunjin waving at him with a bright smile. He closed his book, returning a grin. He couldn’t deny he felt this strange twinge in his heart as he realized it wasn’t Minho coming up to rip the novel out of his hands. 

“What’s up?” 

Hyunjin took a seat at his picnic bench, putting his backpack down on the table. 

“So, what would you say if I told you there’s a guy that I want you to meet?” he asked suddenly, that made Jisung pop an eyebrow. 

“A guy?” 

Hyunjin nodded enthusiastically. 

“I’ve known him since the start of the semester and he's really nice, and I think that you should meet him,” he suggested. 

Jisung bit his lip. 

“Um…” he trailed off, not really sure how to respond. He was never really good at making friends. He didn’t really care to make friends either, but Hyunjin looked really excited about it for some reason, so it felt like saying no wasn’t an option. 

“He’s an art major like me, he’s really attractive, and he’s going to the party next weekend so you won’t have to go alone.” He was smiling even wider now.

“What do you mean go alone? Are you not going?” He was confused, and that made Hyunjin chuckle. 

“Of course I'm going, but I’m going with your brother, so I don’t want you to be alone in case…you know we disappear somewhere.” 

That made Jisung cringe. 

“Okay, yeah, I get it.” 

Hyunjin pulled out a piece of paper from his bag then, sliding it over the table. 

“Look, he wrote down his number for me to give to you. Isn’t that cute? I was just going to put it in my phone, but he wrote it out instead.”

Jisung grabbed the tiny piece of paper, reading the name that was scrawled across the top. 

Yang Jeongin

“You don’t have to call him, but I just thought since you hooked me up with your brother, that I could at least try and return the favor,” he told him, and Jisung was chuckling now. 

“Me? I didn’t really do anything,” he denied, but Hyunjin rolled his eyes with a smile.

“You did though, you gave him my number,” he shrugged, with a blush, “so, I got you a cute guy's number in return. You should text him.” 

Jisung bit the inside of his cheek, starting to feel a little nervous. 

“I—I mean…okay, I guess, but…” 

It had been a long time since Jisung had even thought about going on a date. He had been with his ex-boyfriend for three years. He wasn’t even sure if he was ready to get back out there. He honestly didn’t even know how—but he decided that it was worth a shot. 

“No pressure, seriously, but I promise you that he’s super sweet and kind,” he assured him, and that made Jisung smile.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll text him.” 

Hyunjin clapped his hands together.

“Awesome! I’m so excited. I know you two are going to hit it off, then we can go on double dates and everything.” He sounded thrilled, and Jisung laughed seeing him so animated. 

“So you and Felix are dating now?” he asked, and that made Hyunjin flush a little.

“Well, he hasn’t really asked me properly, but I mean I’ve sucked his dick so he better—”

“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want to hear it.” He placed his hands over his ears. He could hear Hyunjin’s muffled chuckles through the barricade of his palms.

“Hey, you asked.” He shrugged, and Jisung rolled his eyes.

“I did not ask you that,” he groaned.

“I just hope he does ask me this weekend. I…really like him, so…” he trailed off, and Jisung could see him looking a little insecure. 

“Felix likes you too. I know he does,” he assured him, and Hyunjin gave him an appreciative smile. 

“Well, I have to run to class, but, yeah. Text Jeongin, and then text me to tell me how it went.” 

Before Jisung could say anything else, Hyunjin was grabbing his bag and waving his goodbyes. He looked down at the paper in his hand again, taking a deep breath. He put the number in his phone, and decided to shoot his shot, even if he was incredibly nervous and totally out of practice. 

They had been texting for a few days. Hyunjin was right, he was extremely kind, and he was easy to talk to. Jisung really liked it when someone could carry the conversation, since he wasn’t always good at it. Some people thought he was boring, but honestly, he just had a hard time thinking of what to say. But Jeongin kept asking him about his likes and dislikes, and even listened to him drone on about the latest book he read. There was no way that he could have possibly cared, but he had sounded so interested when he was explaining it to him, even asking him questions about it. Jisung’s heart was fluttering a little bit, and he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t felt that happy in a while. 

When Hyunjin came into the room, hearing him giggling on the phone late at night, he could see the triumphant smile on his face. He had reluctantly hung up, getting a little embarrassed, but promised him he would see him tomorrow. 

It was the first time they were meeting in person. Jisung invited him to sit by the bench in the courtyard near the oak tree. He told him how it was his favorite spot, because it was quiet and he loved to read underneath it. 

He was stupidly nervous, because he was afraid that somehow he was going to fuck it up. He knew he wasn’t the most interesting person in the world, and he was definitely kind of a nerd, only caring about his books and having almost no friends. His ex-boyfriend got bored of him, slowly pulling away and drifting apart, until he decided that staying close to home for Jisung wasn’t worth it. That stabbing pain in his chest was still there, remembering the calm look on his face when he told Jisung that he wanted to end it. 

He tried to settle himself down by taking in deep breaths. The air was cooler today, but the sun was out and shining brightly. He had been successful at slowing down his heart rate, until someone locked eyes with him from across the courtyard, waving at him gently, and excitedly bouncing over to him. He stood, greeting him back with a small smile and slight wave.

Jisung’s first thought was that he was good looking, with a cute boyish charm. His black hair was styled back, and he had the cutest brown eyes. He was wearing a black t-shirt, tucked into his faded jeans, and Jisung couldn’t stop thinking that he was seriously adorable. As he approached him, he was a little bit taller, and Jisung lifted his face to meet his gaze.

“Jisung, right?” he asked, his voice bubbly and sweet. Jisung was already blushing a little. 

“Yeah, Jeongin?” 

He nodded, and Jisung could see nothing but confidence radiating from that smile of his. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person.” He chuckled, and Jisung really liked how cute that sound was. 

“Yeah, you too.” He cringed at his shaky voice, but he couldn’t break the nerves. Hopefully Jeongin didn’t notice. If he did, he didn’t show it. Jeongin shrugged his bag off his shoulder and placed it on the table. He also had a book tucked underneath his arm. 

“Here, I brought you this,” he said then, grabbing the book and handing it to him. Jisung took it in both hands, reading the cover and flipping it to the back to glance at the summary. 

“For me?” he asked, blinking up at him surprised. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite books, and I thought…I thought you’d like to give it a read. You don’t have to of course, but I–”

“No, I–I would love to read it. Thank you, so much.” 

He was so fucking kind. He had listened to him go on and on about his books for days now, so he brought him a book to read. His insides were melting already. 

They sat down, and Jisung decided that Jeongin was actually kind of perfect. He was so good at handling the conversation, knowing when to talk about himself and when to ask Jisung a question so he could contribute to it. Sometimes, he worried about things like that, because some people would question him why he was being quiet, or why he seemed to not be interested in what they were talking about. He never really knew what to say to that, so it just made him uncomfortable.

He didn’t have many friends, and with Felix always talking enough for the both of them, that’s just how his life was. Felix always carried the conversation for him. During dinner with their parents, when they were catching up with distant relatives, or even at school with their small friend group that Jisung liked to hang around with. He felt most comfortable just listening anyway. 

“So you’re an art major, right?” Jisung decided he should ask a question or two, even if he already knew the answer. 

“Yeah, that’s how I met Hyunjin. He’s a super cool guy, he’s always talking about his boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s cute brother.” He smiled, and that made Jisung blush. 

They talked a lot, and Jisung enjoyed how comfortable he was with him. They discussed which classes they were taking, since they were both first years, complaining how they had to take many extra curricular courses. They talked about the dorms, and how they were way too small, and that the showers were always way too crowded. They also talked more about Jisung’s books, and Jeongin smiled seeing him so animated, talking about them.

“You read a lot,” he mentioned, and Jisung shrugged. 

“I do. I love escaping the world a bit, and putting myself somewhere else. That probably sounds weird but—”

“It’s not weird at all.” 

Jisung bit his lip, deciding that Jeongin was not just sweet, but incredibly sweet. 

Jeongin reached into his bag then, pulling out a container full of fruit. He had brought him some strawberries to eat, and Jisung hadn’t even told him that they were his favorite. They were sharing them together when a baseball mitt came flying down on the table. It startled them both, and Jisung looked up to see Minho swinging his leg over the bench to sit next to him. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.” 

Jisung felt his heart burst, finally seeing those intense eyes again after almost a week. He had his red and white baseball cap flipped backwards, with a plain white t-shirt that accentuated his muscles. He was gorgeous, and Jisung’s jaw clenched seeing him grin at him. 

He wanted to speak, to tell him to get lost because he was with someone and he was being rude , but nothing would come out. The air in his lungs had completely disappeared as he leaned in close to him. 

Minho had grabbed his wrist and brought his half bitten strawberry up to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around the fruit, biting down and eating the rest of it. The soft swell of his top lip had bumped the tips of his fingers, and he felt his heart jump. 

Jisung was just staring at him, completely dumbfounded—because what the fuck was he doing?

Minho’s eyes slid over to Jeongin then, that intense gaze of his narrowing in as he glanced him up and down. 

“Who's your friend?” he questioned, sounding annoyed. 

Jeongin was blinking back and forth between them, seeing Minho’s hand still attached to Jisung’s wrist. 

“Hi, I’m Jeongin.” He smiled brightly anyway, as he introduced himself. He reached his hand out to shake but Minho just stared at him like he wanted him to disappear. Jeongin pulled his hand back awkwardly after a couple of seconds, realizing that Minho wasn’t going to take it. 

Minho’s eyes were now back on his face, and Jisung needed to get his fucking voice back. 

“I’ve missed you these last few days, I’m sorry I’ve been busy.” His free hand came up to tuck Jisung’s hair behind his ear, and that made his eyes go wide. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand, forcing himself to get a grip. 

“Get out of here,” he hissed, ripping his arm out of his grasp. He didn’t miss the smirk on Minho’s face. 

“Baby, I know you’re mad at me, but I’ll make it up to you, yeah?” 

Jisung had no idea what the hell he was talking about. 

Baby. Sweetheart. 

And what was with that fake sweet tone again? It was just like the one from the day in the library. It was like he was putting on a show.

He was going to kill him. 

“You have about five seconds to get out of here or I swear to god I will punch you so hard in the dick that you’ll throw up,” he threatened in a half whisper, hoping that Jeongin wouldn’t hear him, but there was no way he didn’t. 

He could see him looking confused across the table, and Jisung really wanted to wring Minho’s neck right now. 

“My boy is always so snippy with me.” He chuckled, reaching out to tickle underneath his chin. 

Jisung’s heart was threatening to fall out onto the floor. 

My boy. 

He was out of his fucking mind. He blinked at him sweetly, and Jisung knew what he was doing now. He smacked his hand away, and he could feel that he was burning red. 

“Minho, knock it off. I’m so serious,” 

He continued to smile at him, and Jisung knew that this sort-of date he had with Jeongin was totally ruined. 

Minho grabbed his mitt then, letting go of his wrist and standing up from the table. 

“I’ll see you later, you’re coming to my baseball practice to watch me play, right? Like you always do?” he asked, and Jisung was seconds away from punching his fist right into his groin. Before he could do that, Minho tapped his head with his mitt like he usually would, and was jogging off without even acknowledging Jeongin’s presence again. 

Jisung’s fingers were clenched into fists on the table, his teeth gritted and his face was red hot. He was such an asshole. 

“So…is that like, your boyfriend or something?” Jeongin sounded pained as he said it, and Jisung shook his head multiple times. 

“No, god no. He’s just—we’re not even friends.” He tried to explain, but he knew that sounded crazy, especially after that strange interaction. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, sounding skeptical. 

“Yes, seriously, we actually hate each other. I only know him because he plays baseball with my brother, and it’s kind of a long story, but he’s a huge pain in my ass,” he groaned, and he wished that uncertainty on Jeongin’s face would disappear. 

“Okay…” 

He definitely wasn’t buying it. He was totally gonna kick Minho in the balls later. 

“Jeongin…I…” he flushed again, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry about him, but I was having a really nice time with you…” 

Jeongin’s eyes widened a bit, seeing Jisung’s blushed cheeks, and that smile returned to his face. 

“Me too.” 

Jisung was thankful that Jeongin was an incredibly nice guy, because if this were the other way around, he would’ve left him sitting at the picnic table. 

They sat and chatted for a little while longer, until Jisung had to get to class. 

“So, uh, that party this weekend—would you possibly want to go together?” Jeongin asked shyly, and that made Jisung smile wide. 

“Yeah, that would be great,” he agreed. He wrapped his new book up in his arms, pressing it to his chest. Jeongin grinned, looking at him holding onto it tightly. 

“Awesome, then, I’ll see you this weekend,” he stated, and Jisung nodded. 

Before he could walk away completely, Jisung grabbed him by the wrist. 

“Hey, um, I just wanted to say thank you. You know, for meeting me today, and for the book. I’ll give it back as soon as I finish it.” 

Jeongin chuckled, and Jisung felt his heart stutter when he leaned in to kiss his cheek. 

“Keep it. I bought it for you.” 

He waved then, finally making his way out of the courtyard. Jisung blinked after him in shock, bringing his hand up to touch his skin. 

He couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t burning or tingling, like the way it felt earlier when Minho had touched him. 

He showed up to their practice, finding his usual seat on the bleachers while Felix strapped his gear on. 

“So, Hyunjin told me your date went well.” Felix mentioned, and that had Jisung blushing. He had such a big mouth. He texted him after lunch saying he had a wonderful time with Jeongin, and that he was incredibly nice just like he said. 

“It wasn’t an official date or anything…” 

He opened up the book that Jeongin gave him, flipping through the pages. It was a stiff paperback, and he knew the spine would crack if he wasn’t careful. He wasn’t sure why he was expecting a piece of paper to be stuck inside of it, with a sweet message, but there wasn’t. He blushed and snapped it shut. 

“Still, I’m happy you met someone. Hyunjin said he’s a really nice guy.” 

He knew Felix was incredibly worried about him ever since he split from his ex-boyfriend, Seungmin. He didn’t talk to him for almost a week after his break up. He had no idea what to even say. All he could see were Felix’s sympathetic eyes staring at him, making him feel even worse. He was embarrassed that he had fallen out of love with him, that their relationship was so boring it wasn’t worth holding onto, that he didn’t even want to try. Especially after Jisung had been discussing with Felix on how to make a long distance relationship work. He had wanted to hold on, and it was heart crushing that he hadn’t even given it a thought. 

They hadn’t talked much about the break up, and Jisung wanted to keep it that way. Although, he knew Felix knew what happened between them. They were all close friends, so he had definitely discussed it with Seungmin. He had lived across the street, moving there when they were in grade school, and he was practically family. 

Seungmin had always made Jisung feel seen. It was often that people would use him to befriend Felix. But with him, it was never like that. 

Seungmin would come over and ask to see him and not Felix. It would make his heart flutter, as Jisung would share his books with him and Seungmin would bring over his comics for them to read together. 

He told Jisung he had liked him first. Seungmin had kissed him in the treehouse in their backyard, with inexperienced lips and wandering hands. Felix had climbed up to catch them in the act, causing Jisung to yell at his brother to get out, while Seungmin just laughed. They were young, exploring love, and it was comfortable between them. 

He was kind, considerate and took all of his firsts. 

He really did love him. 

“He is nice. He…bought me a book.” He smiled, showing it to him. Felix gave him an even bigger smile as he finished putting on his shin guards. 

“Well you better tell me more after practice, and don’t read while I’m hitting, I really want your help later.” 

Jisung grinned, waving him off. 

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t, I promise.” 

Jisung nodded, waving at him as he made his way over to Chan and their coach. They had an away game coming up, facing a team that had incredible hitters. Their nickname was the hometown sluggers, and if that wasn't intimidating, then he didn’t know what was. 

They had a practice match today, with another local college. Jisung couldn’t help but look around for Minho. He had thought about potentially confronting him about his bullshit earlier, but he wasn’t on the mound or in the dugout. 

He decided to start his new book, since they were  waiting for the other team to get there and Minho was nowhere in sight. They were just throwing around baseballs, and practicing catching fly balls. Felix was catching for another pitcher, since Minho wasn’t there yet. 

Once again, he was sucked into the story, the literary world drawing him in. He honestly didn’t like fantasy too much, but since it was Jeongin’s favorite, he wanted to give it a try.

He was a few pages in when he heard someone pounding on the bleachers. He looked to the end, to see Minho stomping his cleats on the metal, rattling Jisung’s body with the vibrations. 

“Stop it,” he spat, and that made Minho smirk. He jumped up onto the bleachers then, making his way towards him.

“Hey sweetheart, I knew you’d be here.” He said, plopping down and wrapping his arm around him. 

Jisung was about to lose it. He shrugged him off immediately, but as he was distracted by his touch, Minho had pulled away the book in his lap. He snapped it shut with his free hand and placed it down on the bleachers, out of Jisung’s reach. He smirked at his obvious frustration. 

“Give me my fucking book,” he swore, his patience incredibly thin. 

“Who was that guy you were with earlier?” 

He completely ignored him, and Jisung felt his eyebrow twitch in irritation. 

“None of your business,” he snapped, and Minho’s intense eyes narrowed in on him. 

“If you want your book back, then tell me,” he threatened, and Jisung was so tired of him. 

“He’s a guy that I’ve been talking to, now give me my book and leave me alone.” 

He glared at him, hoping he would give it back now that he answered his question, but that unreadable expression was back on his face. 

“He seems kind of lame, don’t you think?” he questioned, and that made Jisung scowl. 

“No, he’s not lame. He’s actually super nice, so shut the hell up,” he snapped, and he couldn’t help but notice that Minho kept sliding closer. He could feel his soft breath on his neck.

“Is that what you want? You want to date a nice guy like him?” he asked, his voice a little dark. Jisung felt a shiver run up his spine. All his words were gone again, having him so close like that. He was frozen, especially when Minho smirked at him. “He might be nice, but I don’t think he would satisfy you.”

“What—What are you—” he choked out, but Minho wasn’t finished talking. 

“Besides, is he even that interested in you if he let me touch you like that in front of him?”

That made Jisung grit his teeth. 

“You’re a fucking asshole. You knew I was on a date and you tried to fuck it up,” he accused. 

Minho just shrugged, but he didn’t even try to deny it. He leaned in so close that Jisung almost let out a whimper, feeling his lips brush over his ear. 

“I told you I’d make your life hell,” he whispered. Jisung was gripping the bleachers hard with his fingers, trying to keep himself steady. 

He jumped up then, grabbing his book and tapping him on the top of the head with it. 

“You should tell him that you’re more of a romance reader.” 

Jisung’s heart flew up into his throat at those words. Before he could say anything, he was hopping down the bleachers heavily with his cleats, shaking the metal and Jisung’s heart. 

Once again, he left him speechless. 

Minho didn’t pitch during practice. One of their other pitchers was playing today, and Jisung couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

He couldn’t get his heart to slow down. Even if he tried reading, he couldn’t focus—because how did Minho know his favorite genre was romance? He must’ve been paying attention to the books that he was reading, every time he stole them from his hands. He also must have seen Jeongin give him the book earlier, which meant he was watching them the entire time. He flushed thinking about it. 

He could see Minho sitting in the dugout, chatting with Chan, with a bright smile on his face. He seemed relaxed off the mound, and Jisung couldn’t stop staring. He looked so good, in his baseball attire and tight pants. Jisung hated himself for thinking about it. Again. 

He tried not to get caught looking at him, so he moved his gaze back down to his book. He didn’t look up at him again, but he could have sworn he felt his eyes on him. 

Jeongin had texted him that he would pick them up around nine so they could head over to the party. Hyunjin was ecstatic that they had hit it off like he had hoped, and Felix was thrilled to meet him. 

He told him all about Jeongin after practice that day, even if he couldn’t stop thinking of Minho the entire time. His words were heavy on his brain as he continued to read the book Jeongin gave him. He was absolutely more of a romance reader, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t read other genres. 

But the fact that Minho knew that about him was driving him crazy. 

Jisung was finishing painting his nails, blowing on them a little so they would dry. It had been a while since he had done them, and he thought a nice black color would accentuate his outfit. 

He wore a black t-shirt with ripped black jeans, and black boots. Hyunjin let him borrow one of his silver heart necklaces, which he said would look cute on him. After his nails were dry, he texted Jeongin that they were ready. Felix had been ready for hours, because it didn’t take much for him to look good. Hyunjin took forever to do his hair, so really that was what took them so long. 

Jisung wouldn’t lie that he was kind of nervous. It was his first college party, and he was going with a date. Felix must have noticed his anxiousness, because he rubbed his shoulders soothingly. 

“It’ll be fun, Jisungie,” he assured him. Jisung sighed and gave him a soft smile. 

“I know, I’m just…” he trailed off, but he didn’t have to finish his sentence for Felix to understand. He had briefly mentioned it yesterday for the first time, and he knew Felix was shocked to hear him speak about it. 

“I think I’m finally over him,” he had said, laying on his bed while Felix laid on his mat on their dorm room floor. That made Felix’s eyes go wide. 

“Jisung…” his voice was worried, but Jisung shook his head.

“I’m just worried, you know? What if…What if this guy thinks I’m boring too? What if he gets to know me, and decides he doesn’t like me anymore?” He couldn’t help but share his insecurities. 

“Then he sucks, and he’s not the right guy for you—and you’re the most fun person I know, so that’s not even possible.” 

Felix always made him feel better. 

“Jeongin is nice. I’m nervous, but…I’m excited for you to meet him.”

He had shut it down quickly, not wanting to talk about it for any longer than that, but he had just wanted him to know that Seungmin wasn’t a constant in his mind like he used to be. He had been worried about him for a while, so he wanted to ease his mind, by showing him he was moving on. 

Jisung’s heart almost fell out onto the floor when he heard a knock on their door. It was stupid how nervous he was. Hyunjin hopped over to answer it, and Jisung bit his lip as he saw Jeongin entering the room. He looked incredibly good, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. Hyunjin greeted him first, and he politely shook Felix’s hand. He smiled when he made his way over to Jisung, looking him up and down.

“You look amazing,” he complimented him, and Jisung smiled, trying not to flush because he knew his brother just heard that.

“T–Thanks, so do you.” He tried to speak quietly, but he knew it was pointless. Their dorm was tiny, they were all practically standing on top of each other. Even if he whispered they would probably have heard it. 

“Well, I’m ready whenever you guys are,” Hyunjin announced, clearly ready to party. He took Felix by the hand and led him out of the room, leaving Jeongin and Jisung alone for a moment. 

“I–I finished the book,” he blurted out, and Jeongin smiled at him.

“Oh yeah? That was really fast. What did you think?” he questioned. If he were being honest, he didn’t love it, but he didn’t quite hate it either. He just wasn’t into fantasy, but he still tried it. 

“It was really good. I liked it a lot.” Maybe that was a bit of a lie, but it wasn’t hurting anyone.

“Well, maybe we could go get coffee next week and talk about it?” he suggested, and Jisung didn’t care if it was the worst book he had ever read, that sounded like an amazing date. 

“I would love to.” 

He blushed as Jeongin took his hand, leading him out the door behind Hyunjin and Felix. 

The car ride was comfortable, with Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin talking enough that he didn’t have to squeeze a word in. That was how he preferred it anyway. Felix and Hyunjin knew that he liked to listen, and he was grateful that Jeongin seemed to be catching on as well. 

Sometimes he wouldn’t mind adding to the conversation, but he was a little anxious at the moment. Felix used to throw little house parties when they were in high school, but he knew it was going to be so much different. They weren’t just stealing their parents' small abundance of alcohol and partying in their childhood backyard with their friends. 

When they walked through the front door of some off-campus home that housed at least ten guys, he already wanted to go home. He clutched Felix by the back of the shirt reflexively, and he could feel him reach behind him to grab at his wrist. 

The music was incredibly loud, there were people everywhere, and the floor was sticky on the bottom of the shoes. 

He looked to see Hyunjin beaming with excitement, and Jeongin seemed to be used to the environment. He didn’t even flinch at the music blaring in his ears.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Hyunjin yelled over the music, grabbing Felix by the hand and tugging them towards the kitchen. Jisung stumbled a little as he tried to keep his hold on his brother. He was being a little too clingy, but he couldn’t help it. He was relieved when Jeongin placed a warm hand on his back, following him as he was still attached to Felix’s shirt. 

When they got into the kitchen, there were significantly less people in there. He let go of Felix’s shirt, and leaned up against the counter. 

“You good?” Felix checked in, and Jisung nodded his head multiple times. 

“I’m completely fine.” 

That was the truth—he was completely fine, as long as they stuck with him. 

“Here, want a beer?” Jeongin asked, returning from the fridge, and Jisung took the offer without argument. He wasn’t super into beer, but he wasn’t going to decline it. He cracked it and took a giant sip, trying not to gag as he forced it down. 

He decided that a little bit of alcohol in his system would loosen him up. 

And he was right, because after finishing that beer and taking two shots, it had him feeling completely free from that anxiousness. 

He was reminded once again that Jeongin was incredibly sweet, talking to him the whole night, fetching him alcohol whenever he needed it, and keeping him company when Felix and Hyunjin disappeared like Hyunjin said they would. 

“You know, parties are kind of lame,” Jisung said then, making Jeongin chuckle. 

“Yeah, I agree with you.”

“Like, we could just—you know go home and drink and watch TV or something in my bed.” 

That made Jeongin blush, and it was then he realized that he was actually pretty drunk. 

“Well, whenever you wanna leave, I’ll take you home,” he brushed his fingertips across his cheek, and Jisung still didn’t feel that spark. He frowned, wondering why that feeling wasn’t there. 

“I have to pee,” He announced, and Jeongin smiled, helping him hop off the kitchen counter where he was sitting. 

“Okay, do you want me to come with you? Or hold your beer?” he questioned, and Jisung shook his head. 

“No, and no. I just—I’ll be back in a few.” 

He made his way to the bathroom, feeling a little wobbly in the legs, but not too bad. He definitely wasn’t used to drinking so much. He actually never really drank at all, but when he did, he never drank beer. It was making him feel bloated. 

He groaned as the bathroom door was closed, and he had to wait his turn. He shook the can in his hand to figure out how much he had left, thinking maybe he should just down the rest so he didn’t have to drink it anymore. 

He tipped it up with determination, but he only finished about half of what was left. He cringed, wishing he would have told Jeongin that he didn’t like beer. He decided that he would pinch his nose and chug the rest, and ask him to get him something sweeter. 

“What the hell are you doing?” A familiar voice made him look up. His entire heart exploded in his chest when he saw Minho looking at him with curious eyes. 

He un-pinched his nose, and rolled his eyes. He hated when Minho glared at him like that. 

“This—I’m finishing this. Then I want something else.” 

He hadn’t noticed when Minho had gotten even closer—so close that he could grab his wrist to keep the can away from his mouth. 

Now that he was so close, he could get a better look at him through his bleary eyes. And god he looked so perfect. He was wearing a long sleeve dark red shirt that was loose fitting to his body, with a few of the buttons popped open on the top, showing his chest a bit. His black jeans were tight, and he knew if he turned around, he’d be able to see the perfect curve of his ass, just like in his baseball uniform. 

“Red is really your color,” Jisung mumbled, reaching out to tickle a finger over his exposed chest. Minho looked surprised then, his eyes going wide. He stepped up closer to him, and Jisung felt his back hit the wall. 

He looked him up and down, and Jisung felt his skin burning, just from his gaze. 

“You’re fucking wasted,” he spoke, his voice a little dark. 

“I’m not wasted, you’re wasted.” He tried to bite back, but he ended up giggling at the irritated look on Minho’s face. 

“Where’s your brother?” he asked, and Jisung just shrugged. 

“I don’t know. He ditched me—oh yeah, he’s with his boyfriend.” He was definitely slurring his words a little bit. He swore he was fine about twenty minutes ago.  

The door to the bathroom finally opened, and Jisung cheered. He stumbled inside, but before he could close the door Minho was following in after him. 

“Hey, get out. I have to pee.”  

“Give me this,” Minho tugged the beer can out of his hand, “I’ll turn around.” 

That made Jisung’s jaw drop open. 

“No, Minho, get out.” He started pushing on his chest, and he groaned when he realized he couldn’t move him. 

“Jisung, you’re drunk as fuck, I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself,” he told him, but Jisung blushed. 

“I won’t, it’s embarrassing having you in here, please get out, I have to go!” he yelled, and Minho sighed. 

“Okay, fine, but I’ll be right outside the door.” 

Minho left with his beer can in hand, and Jisung definitely could see the walls spinning. He wouldn’t lie that it was kind of a struggle to undo his pants, but he made it work. 

Honestly, his brain was muddled, and when he reopened the door, he chuckled seeing Minho standing right across from it, waiting for him. 

“Are you okay?” Minho asked, and Jisung scowled at him. 

“I’m fine. I just had to pee. Now give me my drink back.” He went to reach for the beer in Minho’s hand, but he lifted it in the air and out of his reach. 

“You’re done drinking tonight.” 

“Why are you always like this? Stop taking my things from me, you’re always so fucking mean,” he complained, trying to jump for it now. 

Jisung was not as stable as he thought, falling into Minho’s chest as he tried to bounce on his toes to grab the can. 

He felt Minho’s hand wrap around his waist, keeping him up and not letting him fall. Jisung felt his entire body burn from the touch. 

“Enough. Can’t you just listen to me for once?” he hissed, and that made Jisung scoff. 

“You’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled, pressing his face as close as he could. Minho’s breath hitched, making Jisung chuckle again. 

Minho sighed, yanking him back with his eyebrow twitching. 

“God, you are really fucking testing me.” 

Jisung didn’t have time to ask him what he was talking about as he grabbed his wrist and started tugging him towards the kitchen. 

“Let go,” he whined, hitting at his hand that was making his skin tingle. 

“No, you’re drinking water, and then we’re leaving,” he told him, tightening his grip. 

“I don’t want to leave, you can’t make me.” 

That made Minho stop in his tracks. Jisung almost bumped into his back, stumbling a bit to stop himself from doing so. He looked up to see Minho’s furious eyes, he whimpered when he gripped his chin between his fingers. 

“I’m taking you home. You’re too drunk, so stop arguing with me, okay?” 

His voice was gentler than he thought it was going to be. He sounded like he cared or something. Jisung burst into another fit of giggles, and Minho was just staring at him. 

“I don’t get you—like seriously—you make no sense.” 

Minho just ignored him as he pulled away. He continued to drag him into the kitchen, but this time their fingers were intertwined. When they stepped in, Jisung had completely forgotten that Jeongin had been waiting for him. 

“Jisung, shit, I was worried, I was about to come look for you.” 

Jisung whimpered a little as Minho’s grip on his hand became even tighter. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Minho spat, and that made Jeongin’s jaw set. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he barked back, seeing their intertwined hands. 

“Minho, stop.” He grabbed onto the back of his shirt, but that didn’t stop Minho’s glare in Jeongin’s direction. 

“Get the hell out of my way.” 

Minho was furious. He finally let go of Jisung’s hand and stomped over to the sink. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and began filling it with water. 

Jisung was leaning on the counter for balance, looking between the two of them. His heart was racing, seeing Minho so angry and Jeongin looking so confused. 

“You let him get this drunk? And then you let him wander around by himself? Some fucking nice guy you are,” Minho scoffed. 

“Look, I asked to go with him and he said no. I’ve been with him all night, so why don’t you leave and I’ll take care of him.” 

Jeongin was trying to be as nice as possible, but Minho was getting even more riled up. He turned off the tap, making his way back over towards Jisung. Those angry eyes turned soft for a minute. 

“Here sweetheart, drink all of this, and then I’ll take you home.” 

Normally Jisung would have told him to fuck off, but that kind voice made him nod his head obediently. He couldn’t help but lace their fingers together again, liking the way it had felt and wanting that feeling to come back. Minho let him grab at him, blinking at him patiently. His skin was tingling, making his heart race. Minho squeezed his fingers, but forced the glass into his other hand. 

He chugged the water like he was told, but his head was still fuzzy. He looked over to see Jeongin staring at him with sad eyes. He felt the guilt swelling inside of him. 

“Jisung said you two weren’t dating,” he stated, and Minho froze. He turned then, dropping Jisung’s hand again. 

Jisung’s eyes went wide as Minho got right in his face. 

“We’re not,” he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pushed him against the fridge, “but Jisung is mine.” 

Jisung felt his head swirling. He definitely had to be hearing things. He was drunk off his ass, but he was absolutely certain he just heard him call him his. He wanted to say something, but even in this state, Minho had his words stuck in his throat. 

Minho let go of Jeongin’s shirt, and immediately came over to grab Jisung’s hand again. He tugged him out of the kitchen and through the front door of the party house, where the music was still blasting. 

He pulled him down to the sidewalk, and the air felt incredibly refreshing on his face. His heart was still racing, and the beat of it was loud in his ears. 

Mine.  

He couldn’t stop thinking about Jeongin’s disappointed face. He felt guilty—so guilty that he felt sick. He ripped his hand out of Minho’s grasp, feeling his anger over taking him. 

“You—You ruined my date,” he blurted out, and Minho just blinked at him. 

His mind was trying to sober up, remembering the way Minho ruined their date earlier in the week too. He didn’t mean anything that he had just said. He was just trying to make his life hell. 

Minho didn’t respond, he just grabbed at his wrist and started pulling him along the sidewalk again. 

“He was—He was nice to me and now he’s never going to talk to me again! All because of you!” he accused, and Minho’s hand just held onto him tighter. 

“Good.” 

Jisung’s irritation flared. 

“You’re such an—you’re an asshole!” he screamed, but Minho refused to turn around, even when he was punching at his arm and shoulder. 

After a little more assaulting of his upper arm, and realizing it wasn’t working, he gave up and let him drag him towards his dorm. It was quiet the rest of the way, with Minho scowling and Jisung pouting. When they reached the door, he didn’t even bother to ask for the key, he just reached into Jisung’s pocket to grab them. 

He decided to ignore him now, as he pulled him inside. He sat down on his bed in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. He was definitely acting like a child, but he was drunk and pissed off. 

“Where do you keep your pain killers?” he asked, and Jisung refused to answer him. He turned his head, ignoring him completely. 

Minho sighed, and began digging through Jisung’s drawers. When he finally found them, he grabbed a bottle of water from their mini fridge and set it on his nightstand. 

He kneeled in front of him then, but Jisung kept his head to the side. 

He felt Minho grab his hand, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles. 

“Your nails are pretty. I’ve never seen you color them before,” he mentioned, and that made Jisung’s heart swell. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he ripped his hand out of his grasp. 

Because once again, he didn’t fucking get him. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologized, and Jisung was suddenly exhausted. That sweet voice of his was driving him insane. He placed his head in his hands, and he just wished Minho would leave now. 

He was drunk, confused and upset. 

He was supposed to be with Jeongin, trying out a new relationship. He was kind, sweet and perfect. He was everything Jisung could want, and now anything that they could have possibly had, had been destroyed. 

“I wanted—to move on. I thought—I told Felix I would, and that I’d forget Seungmin but you ruined it. You keep—why do you keep saying weird shit—like I don’t understand—and my heart feels—I hate it.” 

He was babbling, but he couldn’t stop. 

“Is Seungmin your ex?” Minho asked, his tone changing again, sounding irritated. 

“Why do you fucking care? Why did you ruin my date? Why are you so mean to me? I didn’t do anything to you.” 

He could feel the tears welling up. He couldn’t get a grip on his emotions. Everything felt out of his control right now. 

He gasped when Minho pushed him against the mattress. His eyes went wide as he grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the side of his head. 

“Why don’t you ever listen to me? Why do you keep looking at me like that, and why does it make me want to kiss you so fucking bad? Why can’t I get you out of my head, no matter how hard I try? You won’t stay away from me, and I can’t think straight around you.” 

Jisung could feel his grip getting tighter, and his eyes searched his face. 

“I’ll answer your questions when you answer mine,” Minho whispered. 

Jisung felt his mouth go dry, and his heart was hammering in his chest all over again. 

“I don’t get you…” he murmured, and Minho let out a deep breath. 

“I don’t get you either.” 

Their faces were so close that their lips were practically touching. If one of them moved, even just slightly, they would be pressed together. Before that could happen, Minho pulled back, instead pressing a soft kiss to Jisung’s cheek, right where Jeongin’s lips were earlier that week. 

His skin was burning hot, and that tingling sensation was spreading all throughout his body. 

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he told him, completely removing himself from his body. Jisung was frozen, his brain swirling and heart faint. He barely registered the door closing. 

And once again, Minho left him staring at the ceiling, his heart in knots and completely confused. 

When Jisung woke up with a slamming headache, he pressed his face into his pillow wishing he could go back in time and tell himself not to drink. 

He felt terrible, from the drinking, and from yesterday's events. He checked his phone and felt his heart shatter, seeing a text from Jeongin, asking if he got home okay. 

He had no idea what to say, but he knew he had to say something. Even if it was just an apology. He blushed, thinking of everything Minho had said to him yesterday. 

He could still feel his lips on his skin. Those words were still ringing in his ears. 

And he had no idea what was going on between them. 

He looked over to see Hyunjin and Felix cuddled up in Hyunjin’s incredibly small bed. Felix had him in his arms, tugging him close to his chest. 

At least they were happy. 

Jisung contemplated for almost an hour on what he was going to say to Jeongin. He knew he had to answer soon, feeling guilty for not texting him back last night. He was probably worried about him, seeing Minho drag him out of the house like that. 

He decided to apologize, and he also asked him if he still wanted to meet up for coffee and to talk about that book he gave him. 

He sighed, knowing it was a total longshot, but he liked Jeongin, and even if a relationship wasn’t going to work out between them, he could at least try. 

He rolled out of bed and took the pain medicine that Minho had placed at his bedside for him. He chugged the bottle of water, and felt a little bit of life come back to him. 

He trudged his way to the shower and forced his head underneath the water. He tried to let it wash away his stress, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Minho pinning him to his bed, saying he couldn’t stop thinking about him, saying he wanted to kiss him. He pulled at his hair, feeling absolutely insane. 

Because Minho was supposed to hate him, and he was supposed to hate Minho, but now he had no idea what was going on between them. 

He had taken care of him, but he also ruined everything between him and Jeongin. He wanted to wreck his chances for a relationship, saying he was making good on his promise to make his life hell. 

He couldn’t trust him. He couldn’t fall for his words. It must have been all bullshit, just to get back at him. They were constantly in their petty little fights, but this time Minho took it too far. 

When he dried himself off and made his way back to the room, Felix was finally up, but Hyunjin was still passed out. 

Felix eyed him carefully, as he draped his towel around his shoulders. 

“Good morning.” 

“Morning,” Jisung greeted back. Felix was watching him, and he felt squirmy underneath his gaze. He sat back down on his bed, frowning when he saw he still didn’t have a text from Jeongin. To be fair, it was early, and he was probably still asleep. He sent that text at almost three in the morning. 

“Want to tell me what happened last night?” Felix asked then, and Jisung couldn’t read his tone. 

“What do you mean?” He tested the waters first, wondering just exactly how much he knew. 

Felix sighed, grabbing his phone and reading the screen. 

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that your brother was wasted last night. I took him home, and made sure he got into bed safely. Let me know how he is in the morning. I’ll see you at practice.” 

Jisung felt his heart speed up, hearing those words. He couldn’t believe he texted Felix. He was going to kill him. 

“Oh, yeah.” He shrugged, but Felix seemed concerned still. 

“What happened to Jeongin? I thought he was with you?” he asked, and Jisung was trying not to flush. 

Jisung is mine.

“I don’t know…honestly I don’t really remember much,” he lied, because he wasn’t about to tell Felix that Minho had dragged him home, and told him all these crazy things. 

He would definitely just get even more worried. He knew they didn’t get along well, and Felix would definitely not approve. 

“Well, I’ll text Minho and thank him, and you should probably check in with Jeongin if you haven’t already,” he told him, and Jisung nodded. 

“I texted him, I’m waiting for him to text back,” he said, and Jisung hoped he hadn’t read through to his guiltiness. 

Felix nodded, and laid back down. Hyunjin grabbed him and pulled him in like a giant pillow. Jisung was honestly amazed, because he really could sleep through anything. Their conversation hadn’t been particularly quiet, with Felix talking right in his ear, but Hyunjin didn’t even so much as stir. 

Jisung was anxious, waiting for Jeongin’s text. After an hour of impatient waiting went by, he was relieved to see a text from him.

Sure, did you want to go this afternoon?

He quickly texted back, agreeing to the plans. He sighed, suddenly feeling nervous. He had a lot of explaining to do. 

When Hyunjin finally woke up, he looked like he wanted to die. He was definitely even more hungover than him, groaning and pressing his forehead into Felix’s shoulder. 

He complained when Felix had to get up and leave, begging him desperately not to go. But their away game was in two days, and they had a mandatory practice all players had to attend.

“I have practice today, you’re coming right?” Felix asked, and Jisung bit his lip. He knew he said he would go, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to patch things up with Jeongin. 

“I can’t today, actually. I’m meeting with Jeongin,” he told him. He thought Felix might be disappointed, because had said he would go watch, but he gave him a soft smile instead. 

“No problem, tell him I said hi.” 

Hyunjin whined as Felix kissed his forehead and left the room, begging for him to stay just a little bit longer. When the door shut, Hyunjin rolled over to look at him. He looked exhausted, but kept his eyes open. 

“How was your night with Jeongin?” he asked, and that made him freeze. He knew he would have to come clean, because if he didn’t tell him, then Jeongin definitely would. 

“Actually…I was really drunk, and…Minho took me home…” he admitted. 

Hyunjin had been rolling around pathetically all morning, but he immediately shot up at that information. 

“Minho?” he questioned, in total shock. 

“Um…yeah.” 

He was picking at his fingers, chipping his black nail polish on accident. 

Your nails are pretty.

He clenched his fingers into fists, trying to get Minho’s voice out of his head. 

He knew that Hyunjin was probably going to be pissed at him for ditching Jeongin, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at his face. 

“Oh my god, you better spill right now.” he threw his legs off his bed and jumped onto his, bouncing him a little bit. 

Jisung was surprised at his lack of anger, and intense curiosity. 

“I ran into him at the party…he said I was too drunk and he made me drink water and then brought me here and…” he trailed off, but Hyunjin was leaning forward now, his messy hair almost poking him in the eye.

“And what?” 

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“I don’t know. He’s so confusing, Hyunjin. He told Jeongin that we weren’t dating…but that I was his, and then he…he said he wanted to kiss me—”

“Holy shit, he kissed you?” he interrupted, and Jisung quickly shook his head. 

“N—No, he didn’t. Well…he just—kissed my cheek before he left but…” 

“Dude, I knew he liked you. Fuck, it written all over his face in the library, it was almost embarrassing.” 

Jisung had no idea why he looked so happy at the moment. He had completely ditched Jeongin, which was such a dick move, especially after Hyunjin introduced them. 

“But Jeongin…I came with him, but I went home with another guy. I feel so bad, and I told him there was nothing between Minho and I and there isn’t but—”

“Okay, well, let me ask you this,” he looked at him carefully, “do you like Minho?” 

That made Jisung’s entire heart flutter. He felt his brain and heart battling. 

“N-No, absolutely not. He’s—He’s been messing with me since I met him. He probably didn’t even mean what he said yesterday. He was probably drunk too, so…no I don’t like him.”

He couldn’t let himself fall for his antics. Even if he made his entire body burn with this intense feeling, and even if he was a little attracted to him, he couldn’t. 

“You’re sure?” Hyunjin asked, sounding skeptical. 

He sighed. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Hyunjin nodded then, giving him a small frown. 

“What about Jeongin?” 

Jisung honestly had no idea. He liked Jeongin, he really did, but he wasn’t sure if there was much of a spark, and he probably had no interest in him anymore. 

“I mean…he probably hates me now, but I like him…” he answered, and Hyunjin gave him a tiny smile now. 

“Then I think you should tell Minho you’re not into him and apologize to Jeongin. I don’t know if he’ll forgive you, but it’s worth a try, right?” 

“We’re meeting for coffee this afternoon,” he told him, ignoring the first part of his suggestion. He was picking at his fingers again, but trying not to destroy the paint on his fingernails this time.

“Good, I’m glad. He’s a super nice guy, so…” 

“Yeah…he is,” he agreed.

He might be nice, but I don’t think he would satisfy you.

Jisung flinched, remembering Minho’s words. 

He desperately didn’t want him to be right, but every time he thought of him, he barely got any butterflies. 

Jisung got to the cafe super early. He was nervous, and he was trying to figure out what he was going to say. 

He knew he had to apologize, and he hoped that would be enough. 

When he saw Jeongin walk through the doors, he felt his heart beat increase, but unfortunately those butterflies still weren’t there. 

“Hey,” Jeongin smiled at him, but there was definitely a little apprehension behind his eyes. 

“Hi,” he greeted back, a little awkwardly. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Jisung shrugged. 

“I’m—I’m fine.” 

Jeongin sat down, and Jisung knew it was already over when he didn’t order a coffee or even unstrap his bag from his back. 

“Jisung…um—”

“I’m so sorry,” he interrupted, his head hanging low. He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with him, feeling incredibly guilty. 

“It’s okay.” He could hear him smiling, but Jisung sighed. 

“It’s not okay. I—I swear there’s nothing going on between Minho and I…he just…I don’t know what his problem is but—”

“He likes you.” 

That made those butterflies explode in his stomach. He looked up to see Jeongin smiling, and he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t glaring at him or blaming him for being a total asshole last night. 

“He doesn’t. He’s just…messing with me.” He tried to tell him. 

Because that had to be all it was. Since day one, Minho had been pissing him off, acting like a dick, and messing with him. 

It was quiet between them for a minute, until Jeongin broke the silence. 

“You like him too, right?” he asked, and Jisung’s eyes went wide. 

“No, I don’t. I—I hate him. He’s the worst. He’s constantly messing with me, he’s an asshole, and—” 

“The only reason I let you leave the kitchen yesterday with him was because of the way you held his hand, like you didn’t want to let go,” he told him. Jisung could barely even remember his actions in the kitchen, but he did remember the warmth of his skin on his. His gentle voice had him in a trance. 

“I—that’s not…”

“Jisung, I like you. I think you’re a good person, so if you ever want to hangout as friends…just let me know.” 

Before Jisung could say anything, Jeongin smiled brightly at him and was leaving the cafe. He rested his pounding head on the table, not even caring if he was getting strange looks.

Jeongin really was a sweet guy, because he had just turned him down in the most polite way possible. 

Chapter Text

Hyunjin had been beaming all afternoon while Jisung had been wallowing in self-pity on his bed. He could tell he was trying to dial down his happiness, due to Jisung’s sorrow, but he couldn’t contain himself. 

Jisung could tell he was about to crack, clearly wanting to say something but holding himself back, trying to be considerate. 

“Please tell me why you’re grinning like that before your face breaks,” he mumbled into the pillow. That seemed to break the dam. 

“Your brother is so sweet,” he told him, kicking his feet back and forth. Jisung would have rolled his eyes, but he looked so happy and he didn’t want to ruin it. 

“He’s alright.” 

That made Hyunjin chuckle. 

“I was going to freak out since he didn’t ask me out Friday night, but then he took me out to a really nice dinner yesterday and said he wanted to make it special…he’s so fucking perfect.” 

Making a gagging sound would definitely have been rude, so instead he gave him a bright smile. 

“Well, I’m really happy for you guys.” 

Hyunjin gave him a little frown. 

“I heard that Jeongin turned you down,” he stated, making Jisung groan into his pillow again for the hundredth time. 

They hadn’t talked about yesterday yet, so Jeongin must have said something about it. Jisung spent the entire afternoon tucked under his covers, reading a romantic tragedy as his heart ached with sadness and guilt. 

“Yeah…he did.” 

“Have you talked to Minho?” he asked suddenly, and that made Jisung’s heart flutter stupidly. He lifted his head from the pillow, giving him an incredulous look. 

“What? No, Why?” 

Hyunjin shrugged, putting his hands in the air. 

“Just wondering, you know since he clearly likes you enough to steal you away from your date, and bring you home to bed because you were drunk off your ass.” He smirked as Jisung blushed deeply. 

“It’s not like that. I told you, he’s just messing with me. He ruined my date because he hates me and wants me miserable.” He tried to explain, but Hyunjin gave him an unconvinced look. 

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.” 

Jisung couldn’t stop his bright red cheeks as Hyunjin stood from his bed, stretching his limbs. 

“Anyway, I’m meeting your brother for dinner, want to come?” he asked, and Jisung smiled. Felix had texted him the same thing earlier, but he had declined. He liked that they both included him, never wanting to leave him out. 

“I’m good. Have fun on your date,” he told him, but he grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist before he could put his shoes on. “Oh, and can you please, please not say anything to Felix about the whole Minho thing?”

Hyunjin blinked at him, surprised.

“I won’t, but why not?” he asked, and Jisung sighed. 

“Because I know he’ll just get all worried and I know they don’t like each other so…” he trailed off, and Hyunjin just shook his head. 

“Fine, I won’t say anything, but if he asks, I’m not a very good liar,” he warned, and that made Jisung laugh. 

“Don’t worry, I love my brother, but he’s kind of dense.” 

Hyunjin chuckled, waving at him before leaving the room. 

He sighed, rolling over to face the wall. He wouldn’t lie that he couldn’t stop thinking about Minho all weekend—his kind voice, his gentle touch, his crazy words. Jisung was driving himself insane. 

He reopened his book and decided to immerse himself into a different world, forgetting about his problems the best he could. 

He avoided hanging around campus on Monday, because he was terrified to face him. He went to his classes, and then immediately booked it back to his dorm where Felix was hanging with Hyunjin before they had to leave for the away game. Hyunjin had an art show the same day, and he was more than disappointed that he couldn’t attend. 

When he walked in, he wished he hadn’t. 

“You’re fucking kidding!” 

He slammed the door shut before he saw any more of Hyunjin than he wanted to. His brother's naked ass wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still incredibly shocking. 

He pounded on the door.

“Get dressed! What the hell!” 

He could hear Felix telling him to shut up, but he was a little flustered so he continued to slam his fist on the door, trying to get them to put their clothes on faster. He almost hit Felix in the face when he opened the door. He had his sweatpants back on, but they were barely hiding what they were doing just moments prior. Jisung groaned in disgust as Hyunjin was laughing on his bed in an oversized t-shirt. He definitely didn’t have pants on still.  

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Felix looked annoyed, and that made Jisung scoff. 

“Yeah, so not sure if you remember this, but this is my room, not yours,” he snapped, and Felix sighed. 

“You’re always on campus this time of the day.” 

“Well, not today!” He pushed past him, and Hyunjin was definitely trying to hide an amused smile. He glared at him, kicking his shoes off and jumping onto his bed. 

He could see Felix sigh, gripping hard on the door handle as he closed it behind him. Jisung made an annoyed sound as Felix grabbed Hyunjin by the back of the head, pressing a deep kiss to his lips like Jisung wasn’t even there.  

“I’ll miss you,” he told him, his voice barely above a whisper but Jisung could hear it perfectly. 

“You’ll be gone for two days,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around his neck, “but I’ll miss you too.” 

They started to kiss again, and Jisung was about to throw his book at them, hearing them sucking face so loudly. Before they irritated him enough to chuck it in their direction, Felix had pulled away.

“What time are mom and dad picking you up?” Felix asked then, grabbing his shirt to throw it over his body. 

“Probably around six,” he told him, grabbing the book from the bedside table to read instead of tossing it at him. 

“We’re leaving around four, after practice.” He sighed, sitting down on Hyunjin’s bed after redressing himself. He looked over to see him rubbing at his forehead, and his face was a tad red. 

“Babe, it’ll be fine,” Hyunjin said then, rubbing his back. 

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asked suddenly, that protective tug pulling at him, seeing that stressed looking face. 

“Nothing, it’s just that I got paired to room with Minho, and he was…well yesterday, we got into an argument.” 

That made Jisung bite his lip. Even just hearing his name made the butterflies flutter in his stomach. 

“About what?” 

“I don’t even know. We were fine when he showed up. He never talks to me first, but came over and asked me how you were doing, so I said you were hung over, but good enough to go out and meet a friend, and I only said that because he made that comment about…well nevermind, but then he was all annoyed, probably because I said it in a rude way, and then when practice started he was pitching so terrible that I…kind of said something and he flipped out, broke another water cooler and coach separated us for the rest of practice,” he explained. 

He tried to ignore Hyunjin eyeing him over Felix’s shoulder, because he knew what he was thinking. Honestly, he thought about it too, but only for a split moment, because then he remembered that was just how Minho was. He was hotheaded, and it had nothing to do with him. 

“I’m sure he’ll get over it soon. He was probably just in a bad mood, so don’t think too hard about it,” Hyunjin added, making Felix shrug his shoulders. 

“He’s just…I wish we could get along, but I swear he just hates me.” 

Jisung sighed, seeing his brother looking so distraught about it. He wanted to offer him some advice, by telling him that Minho was an asshole and he should just ignore him as always, but even he was having a hard time ignoring him these days. He also couldn’t get that kind voice that was on repeat, out of his head. 

“Well, don’t let it bother you, seriously. You guys have a big game tomorrow, so just focus your energy on that,” he ended up saying, trying to steer the conversation away from Minho. 

Felix coughed, running a stressed hand through his hair. He looked like he was starting to sweat a little. 

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, and Hyunjin slapped one more kiss to his cheek before he was saying his goodbyes and leaving the room. 

Jisung could feel Hyunjin staring at him, but he tried to ignore it. He knew what he wanted to say, and he didn’t want to hear it—too bad Hyunjin wasn’t one to keep his thoughts to himself. 

“Oh, he’s so into you.” 

“No, he’s not,” he denied, and that made Hyunjin scoff.

“Babe, he’s out here breaking water coolers because you went on a date with someone else.” 

“You are reading way too much into it. Seriously, it’s not like that. I’ve seen him break at least three of them so far this season, so it’s nothing new and has nothing to do with me.” He tried to explain, and Hyunjin slowly rolled his eyes.

“Okay, whatever you say. I also think you should tell your brother, because do you know how hard it is for me to keep my mouth shut?” he asked, and that made Jisung laugh.

“Yeah, I bet it is hard, but do not tell him. It’ll just worry him, and there’s nothing to even tell!” he exclaimed. Hyunjin sighed, leaning back against his bed. 

“Fine, don’t tell him that his arch-enemy might have a crazy crush on you.” 

Jisung groaned, deciding that he didn’t want to keep talking about it. 

Minho was just a hotheaded dick. 

It had absolutely nothing to do with him. 

They had only been gone for a few weeks but his mother couldn’t stop kissing his cheek, saying how much she had missed her two boys. He knew it would be like that as soon as they picked him up from his dorm, but he tried not to groan about it. Felix would be getting his later, but of course he was receiving the brunt of it. 

He was happy that they were able to pick him up and drive him to Felix’s game though. He knew Felix was thrilled that they were coming. Since it was about a four hour drive, they were getting there a day early, and staying overnight in the hotel. 

He was excited to lay in his room all night, order room service and read the new romance novel he had picked up at the bookstore earlier in the week. He knew he had so many others on his list to read first, but he loved the author, and he heard so many great things online already that he couldn’t stop himself from purchasing it immediately. 

After he checked in, and his parents went to their room for the night, he bounced down the hallway with his overnight bag in hand. He liked rooming with Hyunjin, don’t get him wrong, but having the night all to himself was going to be amazing. 

That was until about an hour into his reading, and about twenty percent of the way through his book, his phone was ringing. He grabbed it off the nightstand and groaned, seeing Felix’s name scroll across the screen. He knew he was probably inviting him to hang out, knowing that a few of the baseball players were planning on sneaking out to hit some bars, but he really had no interest in doing anything like that. 

He had his tea, some fruit and his feet up, so there was no way he was leaving his hotel room. He usually never ignored his brother's calls, but he was afraid that he might guilt him into coming, and he didn’t feel like dealing with that in the slightest. 

Another few minutes went by, and his phone was being blown up—text message after text message from Felix. He slammed his book down, deciding that maybe he owed him a no thank you text, but his eyes popped wide when he read the screen.

Jisungie, please answer

I’ve been throwing up since we got here and Minho is furious 

I don’t know what’s wrong but I feel like absolute shit

I know I have no right to ask you this but do you think he could stay in your room?

He refuses to stay with me because he’s afraid he’s going to get sick and he’s pitching tomorrow

I will owe you one big time 

Before he could even answer, there was loud pounding on his door. 

“Oh, hell fucking no.” He left his book open on the bed, kicking his legs off the side and running to the door. When he checked through the peephole, his entire body shivered. 

Minho looked pissed, banging on the door so hard that it bumped into his head a little bit. 

It wasn’t too late, but it was late enough that if he kept pounding like that, they were definitely going to get a noise complaint. He took a deep breath, and reluctantly opened the door. 

“No. There is no way—hey!” 

Minho pressed the door open with his foot, since his arms were full of his things. He pushed past him before he could even finish his sentence. Jisung’s heart was hammering, seeing him throw his stuff down onto his bed. 

His mouth hung open, seeing Minho taking his shoes off. The door closed behind him and the click of the lock made him snap out of it.

“No, get out,” he told him, stomping up to the bed where he had put his stuff down. Before he could grab his bag to shove it back into his arms, Minho had snatched him by the wrist. 

“Your brother is literally throwing up his stomach, I’m not staying in that room.” 

“Well you’re not staying here either!” he screamed, throwing his hand in the air.

That made Minho smirk, pulling him closer.

“Why not?” he questioned, and Jisung wasn’t sure why that made him burn red. They hadn’t talked since the party, and he felt like his heart was going to explode thinking about that night in his dorm room again. 

Minho had on a simple white t-shirt with dark gray sweatpants, which were pestering him to look down, but he knew he shouldn’t. His hair was a little damp, like he had just taken a shower, and his hand was so warm on his skin that the tingling sensation felt like it was electrocuting him at the source of his touch.  

His challenging eyes were making him nervous. 

“B–Because I only have one bed, and you’re–this is my room.” He kind of sounded like a child as he complained. He felt a little embarrassed, and Minho chuckled at his response. 

“What, you can’t handle sharing a bed with me?” he asked, and Jisung bit his tongue.

“Get out,” he emphasized, feeling the anger and tension filling his veins. He ripped his arm from his grasp, pushing his things onto the floor. He could see Minho’s jaw tense. 

Jisung’s phone was ringing again, and he sighed deeply when he saw it was Felix. 

“I think you should get that,” Minho suggested, and Jisung wanted to punch him. He groaned, knowing that he couldn’t ignore him this time.

“Hey Lix,” he greeted softly, and Minho’s antagonistic smile widened on his face.

“Jisungie, I am so sorry.” He sounded awful. His voice was rough, and that made him flinch a little hearing it. His shoulders slumped, knowing there was no way he could send Minho back to his room. 

“It’s–It’s okay,” he assured him, and that made Minho relax onto his bed now, his arms resting behind his head as he stared at him with a satisfied sigh. Jisung fingers clenched tightly into fists. 

“It could just be food poisoning, but Hyunjin doesn’t have it so I don’t know…but if it’s really not okay for Minho to stay with you, I can—”

“No, it’s fine. Seriously. Just, get some rest and if you need anything just text me or mom,” he told him, because he really did sound terrible and he sounded so guilty. Of course he was trying to blame himself for being sick. The last thing he needed was Minho being a dick to him while he was ill. 

He could handle it, even if his heart was threatening to give out. 

“I love you.” He must have really been out of it, because it wasn’t often that he would say that. Felix showed his love by actions, more so than words.

“I love you too, now try to get some sleep,” he smiled. That smile was immediately wiped away when he saw Minho sitting up, leaning on his elbow and grinning at him evilly. 

“What’s up, roomie?” he joked, and Jisung felt his eye twitch.

“Get off my bed, because you’re sleeping on the floor,” he told him, and that made Minho roll his eyes.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor. I’m pitching tomorrow. My muscles will get stiff,” he argued, and Jisung scoffed.

“I don’t give a shit.” 

Minho chuckled, and Jisung felt his stupid heart flutter. 

“Always so snippy.” 

Jisung groaned in annoyance, because he couldn’t believe this was happening. It was supposed to be a peaceful night of reading, and now Minho was sitting on his bed . So much for getting any kind of peace and relaxation. 

“Shut up,” he warned, but that made Minho get even cozier on his bed, blinking at him sweetly. 

He felt his heart jump. He hadn’t planned on being face to face with him. He had avoided campus earlier in the day, knowing he would have no idea what to say. That sweet voice, those confusing words, and his intense gaze from the other night were still making his mind swirl. He blushed and looked away when their eyes connected. 

He took it back—there was no way he could handle it. 

He decided that his best bet was to just ignore him like usual. He grabbed his book, and sat on the far end of his bed, keeping his eyes focused on the page and not on Minho’s curious glance. 

“What’re you reading?” he asked, after a few minutes. Jisung ignored him, hoping he would get the hint, but apparently, he wasn’t taking his silence tonight. “Romance?” 

Once again, he tried to ignore him, but he could feel him crawling up the bed to get closer.

“Yes.” He decided to answer in an annoyed tone, hoping he would leave him alone now. 

“I knew it.” He sounded proud of himself, and Jisung rolled his eyes. “It’s your favorite genre, isn’t it?” 

“Can you shut up?” he sassed, and Minho bit his lip with a grin. 

“No,” he stated simply, and that made Jisung take a deep breath.

“Look, we don’t have to talk. Take a pillow and go lay on the floor.”

He threw the extra pillow at him, and he grabbed it just in time before it could hit him square in the face. 

“I don’t want to lay on the floor,” he said, and Jisung was getting irritated.

“I don’t care. This is my room and my bed, and if you’re staying in here, then do as I say.”

A giant smirk spread out across Minho’s lips then. 

“Isn’t it annoying when someone doesn’t listen to you?” he questioned, and that made Jisung glare at him. 

“You are such a dick,” he hissed. Minho chuckled, taking the pillow and laying down right next to him. 

“Tell me why you like romance,” he said, and Jisung pinched the space between his eyes in irritation. 

“Why do you care?” he bit back, and Minho shrugged. 

“Because I’m curious.”

That made Jisung sigh, and he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t trilling, seeing those soft eyes. 

“I don’t know…I like the way I can transfer myself into their story, and I think it’s beautiful to be able to feel the love between the characters as if I were one of them,” he explained with a little bit of a blush. 

Minho just hummed, causing Jisung to bite his lip. 

He always loved romance, but recently he had definitely been reading more and more. He was a little obsessed with the genre lately, immersing himself into books constantly to forget the world around him—and maybe that had something to do with his broken heart, but he didn’t like to admit it. 

Because he wished that love he once had could have worked out. The books he read were able to give him a sense of that beautiful relationship he was so desperate for. 

“It’s…stupid, isn’t it?” he asked then, suddenly feeling insecure by Minho’s silence. He flicked his finger over the top corner of the pages, until Minho grabbed his hand to stop his nervous movements. 

“No, it’s not.”

That gentle voice shook him to his core. He could see Minho rubbing his fingers over his nail polish, blinking at it softly. 

“How—How long have you been playing baseball?” he questioned suddenly, pulling his hand away from his grasp. 

Minho furrowed his eyebrows, blinking at him curiously. 

“A while,” he answered, and that made Jisung scoff. 

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Why do you care?” he smirked, and that made Jisung blush deeply. He turned his head with a pout. 

“Nevermind, I fucking don’t.” 

Minho chuckled then, leaning in even closer. 

“Honestly, probably since before I could even walk.”

Jisung turned his head back, and he swore he saw a pained look on Minho's face. 

“Your dad’s a baseball coach, right?” he asked, and Minho definitely flinched a little. 

“How do you know that?” 

Jisung bit his lip, seeing his eyes narrow in on him.

“Chan—he told me,” he admitted, and Minho sighed a little, leaning away from him now. 

“Yeah, he’s a pitching coach for the major leagues. Makes sense, huh?” He smiled, but Jisung couldn’t help but think it looked a little fake. 

“Felix has been playing since he was three. My parents tried to get me to play too, but I was awful at it.” 

That made Minho chuckle a little, and Jisung felt his heart flutter again. 

“Well, maybe you could have been a pitcher too—you left a bruise on my back when you rudely hit me with that ball on the dead center of my spine.” 

That made Jisung roll his eyes with a small smile. 

“There’s no way. I didn’t throw it that hard.” 

“You did though.” 

“Liar,” he argued, and his heart skipped when Minho laid his head down, close to his hip. He was smiling at him, and Jisung felt the anxiousness suddenly swallow him whole. They never talked like this before, so calmly and casually, like they were friends or something. 

Jisung turned his body a little, trying to get that stupid gaze off his face. It was burning his skin, and he hated the feeling. His heart was hammering, and he had no idea why Minho had the effect he had on him. It was driving him crazy as he stared at him for at least ten minutes, not saying a single thing. He tried to go back to reading, but he couldn’t focus on his book at all. The words passed by his sight but weren’t registering in his brain. It was preoccupied by Minho’s entire presence, and he couldn’t think of anything else. 

“You didn’t come to practice yesterday,” he finally said, breaking the silence. That made Jisung’s heart skip a beat. 

“Where were you?” he asked. He blinked at the page in front of him, thinking that maybe he should try and ignore that question, but once again Minho was having none of it. “I asked you where you were yesterday, don’t ignore me.” 

That change of tone made Jisung scowl. They were back to their normal already. 

“It’s none of your fucking business,” he snapped back—because it wasn’t. 

He should have seen it coming, that he was going to rip the book out of his hands, but it completely took him by surprise as the pages were being flipped shut. 

“Minho, stop doing that,” he complained, trying to reach back for it immediately. 

“Then tell me where you were.” 

“Quit being an asshole and give it back.”

That must have been the wrong thing to say, because Minho tossed the book towards the end of the bed aggressively. Jisung let out a soft gasp as he grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing him down onto the mattress.

“Then quit being snippy and answer my fucking question. Where were you?” 

Jisung felt all the air leave his lungs as Minho was once again on top of him, holding his arms to the bed so he couldn’t move. 

“I—I was meeting a friend for coffee,” he breathed out, with the slight voice he had left.

“Which friend? Because it wasn’t your brother, and it wasn’t Hyunjin.” He felt his grasp tightening, and Jisung winced a little bit. 

“I was—with Jeongin.” He had no idea why he was being honest, but it would have been difficult to lie. He already knew who he was with, he could tell by the way his furious eyes were tearing into him. He also knew he didn’t have any other friends. Minho’s gaze was so intense that it kind of scared him a little. 

“Do you like him?” he asked then, and Jisung blinked at that unreadable expression on his face. 

“What?”

“I asked you if you like him,” he repeated, a little more impatient.

“Why does it matter?” he asked, and he wondered if Minho could hear how loud his heartbeat was. 

“Answer the fucking question, Jisung,” he growled, and Jisung turned his head to the side, unable to take those eyes of his.

“I–I don’t know–it doesn’t matter anyway, he told me he just wants to be friends.” He was blushing now, having to tell him how he was turned down yesterday. Minho scoffed though.

“Just friends? Yeah, sure.”

Jisung rolled his eyes as the rage bubbled in his stomach. 

“Why do you even care? And shouldn’t you be happy that I wasn’t there yesterday? All you’ve done is bitch and complain that I come to your practices, so what’s your fucking problem?” he snapped, and that made Minho’s eyes go a little wide. 

“I don’t know,” he spoke softly, and Jisung’s heart was seizing up. Minho was staring at him intensely, and he couldn’t take it. 

“Get off of me.” His voice was weak, and Minho wasn’t listening. 

Jisung flinched when Minho grabbed his chin between his fingers. 

“I’d rather you come to my practices than you go out with another guy.” 

Jisung felt his heart melt into the mattress. His voice was soft again. He could see him leaning in, and Jisung could barely catch his breath.

“What…?” he whispered, and Minho’s eyes locked with his, making his entire body freeze up. His gaze trailed down to his mouth, and Jisung could see him lick at his bottom lip. 

“Why can’t I can’t get you out of my fucking head?” 

He spoke, but it sounded like he was talking to himself. That question was once again presented, and Minho looked like he was battling with something inside him. Jisung swallowed thickly, their noses close to brushing. 

“Minho—”

Jisung’s eyes went wide as he slammed their mouths together, closing the gap between their lips. His hands quickly came up to grab his biceps, and he hadn’t realized how much he was shaking until he grabbed onto his stable arms. 

His mind was whirling. His insides were blazing. Every inch of his skin felt like it was on fire. 

Minho kissed him forcefully, and Jisung could barely keep up. He couldn’t catch his breath, but when he tried to pull away, Minho gripped his chin even harder, holding him in place. He was devouring him, tasting every inch of his mouth with his tongue.

He tasted like mint, and Jisung couldn’t get the feel of his knee pressing in between his legs out of his head. He was letting out these desperate little puffs of air when he could, and it seemed like every time that sound left his throat Minho would kiss him harder. 

His lips were tingling, just like his skin would whenever Minho would touch him. Those butterflies were crowded in his stomach, like there was no room left for all of them, and they were threatening to burst the organ. His heart was beating so fast that it felt like it might explode in his chest. 

He had never felt this way before. He had kissed a few people in his lifetime, and he had kissed Seungmin more times than he could count, but it never felt this way. He could barely think as his hands grabbed at the front of his shirt, desperately clutching him as Minho had complete control. He could barely move, but Minho wrapped his arm around his waist, tugging him impossibly closer. 

He couldn’t tell you how long they kissed for, but Jisung had completely given himself up to him. He let him do whatever he wanted as he guided their movements. He kissed him aggressively, but caressed Jisung’s body and face with his tender hands, having him melt into his touch. 

When he pulled away for a split second, their eyes connected. Jisung wondered what he had looked like, because Minho’s intense eyes were wide as he looked at him. His lips felt bruised and his cheeks were incredibly warm. 

Minho’s gaze raked over him, and the only thing Jisung could do was blink back at him with almost nothing going on inside his brain. The only thing swirling his thoughts were the taste of Minho’s aggressive lips, which he already wanted back on his. 

“Holy fuck,” Minho whispered.

Before Jisung could ask him anything, his mouth was on his again. He let out a slight whine when Minho’s hand gripped around him tighter. His other hand trailed down his chest and Jisung wondered if he could feel his heart beating heavily. His fingertips tickled his skin as they slid under his soft t-shirt. He felt himself flinch, as his calloused hand pressed widely on his stomach. His heart was hammering as his shirt was being lifted slightly. 

He was shuddering with every touch, and he had so many questions—because Minho was kissing him like the world was about to end, and Jisung hadn't even realized he was grasping onto him like he never wanted him to let him go.

Their lips, teeth and tongues were pressed together, bumping and tangled. Jisung’s hand had moved to wrap around Minho’s wrist, stopping the hand that was toying with his nipple now. 

“M–Minho—I–” 

Minho cut him off with another harsh kiss, and all Jisung could do was moan into his mouth as he flicked his finger over his chest. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He pulled back, their mouths barely separated as he breathed those words against his lips. 

All Jisung could do was let out a pathetic moan as Minho kissed him again and again, until Jisung thought he was trying to suffocate him. 

He whined when Minho’s hand suddenly dropped down to his waist, his hand dipping into the top of his waistband. He pushed against his chest, getting him to finally pull back. His nervous eyes connected with his lust filled ones.

“Minho–wait…” 

His chest was puffing in anxious breaths, and he knew he was shaking like crazy. 

Minho grabbed his wrist gently, and he melted at the soft kiss being pressed to the back of his hand. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

Jisung could barely get his mind to register the words he was saying, but his entire core shook when they slammed into his brain

Baby.

“I–I don’t…what are we…” 

He wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask. He was so confused. He was losing his mind—because what were they doing?

“Do you not want to? I won’t touch you if you don’t want it.” 

Jisung felt his nails dig into Minho’s skin that somehow had trailed back to his biceps again. He whined when Minho pressed an open mouthed kiss on his neck. 

“Tell me, Jisung.” 

His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the feeling of his breath on his skin. He whimpered as he sucked a mark near his collarbone, licking over it gently. 

He knew he should say no, but his body was betraying him. 

“I haven’t…in a while…and—”

“That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You have to tell me, yes or no?” He pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear, and Jisung knew he wasn’t thinking straight. Neither of them were—but he found the words falling from his lips anyway.  

“Y-Yes.” 

He couldn’t believe himself. He couldn’t even recognize the desperate sound of his own voice. He shivered when Minho smirked, blinking down at him. 

“Good boy.”

Jisung felt himself flush, from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest. He wanted to tell him to shut up, but before he could, his lips were on his again, wiping his mind. 

He gently tugged his shirt over his head, only breaking their kiss for a split second before he dove back in. Minho’s lips trailed down his neck, to his chest, leaving a soft kiss right below his belly button. 

Jisung tried to reach out too, wanting to feel what Minho was hiding behind those gray sweatpants of his, but Minho gently grabbed his wrist. 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m making you feel good tonight.” 

Jisung’s heart finally exploded in his chest. 

He watched as Minho wet his fingers a little, making Jisung clench his eyes shut. 

His hand was moving again, dipping into his shorts and making his body jump. He was embarrassed, knowing he was hard and leaking desperately, but Minho had kissed and touched him in a way that never made his body feel so hot before. 

“Hey,” he breathed against his mouth to grab his attention, and Jisung’s eyes fluttered open, “don’t go out with other guys.”

Jisung blinked at him, that demanding tone sent shocks up his spine. 

His breath hitched, and he could feel Minho’s hand wrap around him. His back arched a little, and his brain had completely short circuited. 

“Ah—ah—”

His thumb gently flicked over the tip, and Jisung thought his heart was about to give out. 

“Do you understand?” he asked, teasing him gently as he thumbed the slit of his leaking cock. He gasped, looking right into his eyes. 

“W—What?” 

“Tell me that you understand.” His grip started to loosen, and Jisung was about to lose his mind. 

“I—I understand.” He breathed out, not wanting him to let go, but of course that wasn’t good enough for him. 

“Be specific,” he directed him, and Jisung was clinging to him desperately. 

“I won’t—I won’t go out with other guys.” He blushed, closing his eyes tightly. 

He heard Minho chuckle a bit, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

“Good,” he whispered before dragging his hand up and down Jisung’s cock. He couldn’t believe how sensitive he was. His core was trembling with every touch, and he could feel Minho's eyes watching him hungrily. 

“Ah—Mi—Minho—”

He tried to bring his hands up to stop his moans, but Minho slapped them away before they could cover his mouth. 

“No, I want to hear you,” he told him, and Jisung flushed as he teased his palm over the head of his cock, trying to get him to make as much noise as possible. He was so sensitive it was hard to hold back. 

“But—ungh— we’re in a hotel—people could—”

“Then be loud enough for me only,” he stated, and Jisung let out another soft whine. 

Minho was driving him wild. His movements were changing pace, just enough to keep him on edge. Once he thought he might take him over, he brought him right back down. He was whining desperately, his shorts half way down his quaking thighs now, as Minho kissed his lips and teased his cock over and over.  

“I—I can’t—Minho—I…” 

He pulled away, throwing his head against the pillow. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

“You want to cum, baby?” he asked so sweetly, that Jisung grabbed at his arm with a tight squeeze, trying to signal his answer. 

Jisung’s body was flushed, shaking and pathetic. He nodded desperately, and he whimpered when Minho’s hand slowed down. 

“Then ask me to make you cum then.” 

Jisung let out a tortured whine, and that seemed to make Minho extremely pleased. He didn’t even question it this time—the words just fell from his open mouth. 

“Pl—Please make—make me cum. Let me—”

"Who, sweetheart? Who do you want to make you cum?”

He was teasing him badly, but he was so desperate and felt so good that he didn’t even care. He knew he needed to listen to get what he wanted. 

“Minho —Minho please, I—I want to cum. Please. ” 

Minho’s grip tightened, and his pace quickened, making Jisung whine again. 

“God, you’re so damn beautiful like this,” Minho praised, and Jisung was squirming desperately underneath him. 

Beautiful. 

“You’re always so snippy, but look at how easy it was for me to fix that. You’re a begging fucking mess now, doing whatever I tell you.”

Jisung's heart was hammering. He couldn’t even deny it—and he was so fucking turned on. No one had ever talked to him like that before and his words sent shivers up his spine. 

“Right, sweetheart? You’ll do whatever I say?” he teased, and Jisung nodded, desperately chasing his release. 

“Y-Yes, I’ll—I’ll do whatever you say,” he responded, knowing it wouldn’t have been good enough with just a nod. 

“Fuck, look at you, listening so well.” 

Jisung could feel him twist his hand just perfectly, and he was arching his back and cumming all over his stomach. That tingling sensation was all over his body, making him shudder. 

“There you go, fuck. So good, Jisung, cumming so hard for me.” He could hear Minho praising him, and he had no idea that would make him feel even crazier. His chest expanded and contracted rapidly, trying to bring in as much air as he could. He was shivering, his entire body felt so blissed, just from having Minho’s hand on his skin. It was almost embarrassing, how hot he was and how hard he orgasmed from it. 

He had never felt anything that intense before. 

He was sweating, and his entire body was blushing. He had cum streaking up his stomach, and Minho’s intense eyes were on his face when he caught his gaze. 

Reality came crashing back down on him in a heartbeat. 

“G—Get off!” he screamed, kicking at Minho’s chest. Minho must have been surprised because he fell backwards onto his hands, blushing himself. His mouth was a little open, and he couldn’t read the expression on his face. Jisung quickly pulled up his shorts and ran to the bathroom. 

He slammed the door behind him, trying to catch his breath. He stared in front of him, catching his reflection in the mirror. 

He was a disheveled mess. His lips were dark red, there was a hickey on his neck and he cringed at the mess all over his stomach. He covered his face with his hands, because what the hell did he just do?

He flinched when he heard the door to the hotel room slam, and he felt all the dread in his stomach spread throughout his entire body. All the rationality he had completely dissipated earlier when Minho kissed him. He could still feel the butterflies in his stomach, battling each other for room. 

He couldn’t believe he kissed him. He couldn’t believe he let him touch him. His brain had been completely muddled, and he hated to admit that it had felt so good. 

No one had ever touched him that way before. No one had ever talked to him that way before—and he had no idea it would turn him on so fucking much. He was completely embarrassed as he slid down to the sparkling hotel bathroom floor. He wished he could crack all the mirrors, so he didn’t have to look at his shameful reflection. 

How were they ever going to face each other? What on earth was he going to say now? 

He was more confused than ever, because they were supposed to hate each other. 

He sat on the ground for way longer than he anticipated, trying to collect himself and steady his breathing. He picked himself off the floor, cringing as he cleaned the dried mess off his stomach. He was trying to figure out what to do. He also felt a little bad for kicking him so harshly. He blushed, remembering his shocked face. 

He sighed, and exited the bathroom, and was thankful that Minho wasn’t there. His stuff was still on the ground where Jisung had tossed it earlier. He ran to his bed and grabbed Minho’s pillow. He halted, debating on whether he should toss it to the ground or not. He deserved to sleep on the floor, but he bit his lip, seeing that surprised face pop up in front of his eyes again. He dropped the pillow on the bed, as far away from his side as possible. He grabbed his book and slammed it on the nightstand, knowing that there was no way he was reading anymore tonight. 

He pressed the covers over his head, hoping that sleep would overtake him. Unfortunately, he was still high on adrenaline, with his head replaying the events from earlier on repeat. His heart refused to slow down, no matter what. He tried to regulate his breathing, he tried to count sheep, but nothing was working. 

He jumped when he heard the door open and shut. Minho must have grabbed his key on the desk before he left earlier. He kept his body still, trying to pretend that he was asleep. There was no way he could face him at the moment. He felt his heart somersault in his chest as he felt the bed dip beside him. He had his body facing the wall, so there was no chance he could catch a glimpse of his face. 

He shuddered when he felt lips being pressed to the top of his head.

“I’m sorry.” 

He felt his throat close up at his pained tone. He felt him settle under the covers behind him, and he could feel his eyes on the back of his head. He was closer than he liked, but he couldn’t move, or he would know he was awake. 

It took him hours to fall asleep, and even when he did, his mind was too preoccupied to even rest properly. 

He tried to remind himself that he hated him, that his soft breathing on the back of his neck was supposed to bother him, and that the soft hand that was touching his back was supposed to irritate him. 

But he was finding it hard to convince himself that the only feelings he had for him were those of  hatred. 

When he woke up, Minho was gone. His things weren’t in the room, and his side of the bed was made up. He felt his heart drop, and he wasn’t sure why. He checked the clock on the nightstand, telling him that it was almost nine in the morning. It was too early for them to have practice yet. He wondered when he had left. 

His heart was still racing, and he was starting to get concerned for his health at this point. 

He placed his head in his hands again, the events of last night completely hit him right in the face. 

You’re so fucking pretty.

Don’t go out with other guys. 

His words were sending him into a spiral. Minho was supposed to hate him. He was supposed to hate Minho too—but the feelings inside his chest were starting to make him question what the hell was going on between them. 

He had never met someone so fucking confusing before in his entire life. He never understood what he meant. He was so hot and cold that it was giving him whiplash. 

I’m sorry.

Fuck. He had no idea what to do now.

He grabbed his phone seeing a few text messages from Felix. 

Feeling so much better today. It must have been whatever I ate yesterday. 

Meet me downstairs for practice around 10?

Hey, Minho said you had a headache and were sleeping in, so if you can’t make practice that’s okay

Jisungieeee wake up - breakfast is almost over you’ll miss it

He texted him back, telling him that his head was feeling better, even though he didn’t have a headache, and that he wasn’t hungry. Which wasn’t a lie, because his appetite had been completely wiped away.

He sighed, knowing that Minho probably didn’t want him to come down to have breakfast with them. He was probably avoiding him too, trying to get Felix to leave him up in his hotel room. He was probably pissed that he had kicked him so hard. He must have regretted it since he left without a word. 

He knew his parents were going to want him to come down and head to the fields for Felix’s practice. There was no way he could avoid it, even if he wanted to. He could lie and say he was sick like Felix was, but he never avoided his problems before, and he didn’t want to start now. He came here to support his brother, and Minho wasn’t going to stop him from doing that. 

He shuffled off his bed, showered, and got dressed for the day. He had Felix’s home jersey, which he asked to borrow, and threw on a pair of white shorts. He grabbed his book, deciding that he would read this time when Minho was pitching, and that he would pretend that last night didn’t happen. 

It was probably better if they both just never talked about it and went back to hating each other like normal. 

Although, that was definitely going to be difficult because as soon as he caught a glimpse of him on the mound, his entire body felt like it was on fire again. He quickly tore his eyes away, jumping up on the bleachers with his parents. 

Felix waved excitedly over to them, standing up from behind home plate. Jisung flinched when Minho’s eyes traveled over to where he was looking, their eyes immediately connecting. That expression from last night was still on his face, and Jisung felt his hands starting to sweat, dampening the pages on his book as he flipped through it. 

“Honey, you should really watch the game. You’ll hurt your brother’s feelings. You know it hurts him when he thinks you’re not watching.” His mother placed her hand over the book. He sighed, knowing he couldn’t argue with her. 

He reluctantly closed his book, and he hated that his eyes instantly traveled over to where Minho was throwing a few practice pitches before the bottom of the first started. 

From the first pitch he threw, Jisung could tell that he was a little off. His speed didn’t seem right, like he couldn’t get them as fast as he normally could. He seemed frustrated after every ball, rubbing at the sweat on his forehead before taking a lap around the mound. He seemed uncomfortable, and Jisung had never seen him so incredibly tense before. He wasn’t fluid like he normally was, and Jisung bit his lip, wondering what was going on inside his head. 

The first inning went by fine, since his outfield backed him up. Felix looked like he was trying to high five him, but he was definitely ignored as Minho threw himself on the bench. Jisung couldn’t take his eyes off him the entire time he sat in the dugout. He didn’t even care about what was going on out on the field. He couldn’t stop looking at Minho’s distraught face. 

He watched him again, and he seemed to be hitting most of the strike zone, but when he missed, he would completely miss. Felix had been so good at keeping the ball in front of him, learning just how to catch Minho’s wild pitches. He was actually impressed, seeing him block at least three of them, which should have rolled right to the backstop. 

After he walked a batter, Felix seemed to send a signal to the mound, causing Minho to whip his head away from him in frustration. He looked even more irritated, whenever Felix tried to tell him to calm down, and called for a different pitch. 

Luckily, the ball was hit into a double play, and Minho was finally able to get his first strike out of the game. Jisung hadn’t even realized he had been holding in a breath of relief, after he watched them jog to the dugout. 

That relief quickly disappeared as they made it into the third and fourth inning. The batters were destroying every single ball thrown their way. Minho looked flustered after every pitch, seeing ball after ball soar into the outfield. Jisung clenched his book hard in his hands, seeing Minho watch a homerun ball fly over the fence. 

Normally, he would be furious, but Jisung almost thought he saw fear on his face. 

He was taken out of the game. He had been seventy pitches in and was replaced in the fourth inning after walking another batter, and giving up another run.  

When he got to the dugout, he didn’t even take his mitt off. He sat on the bench, with his head focused towards the ground. He barely moved for the rest of the game, and when Chan tried to cheer him up, he didn’t even react. 

They ended up losing, nine to three, with eight of those runs, hit off Minho’s pitches. 

Jisung watched as Minho quickly exited the field. He had no idea why that tug in his chest was telling him to follow him, but he couldn’t shake the expression that was on his face out of his mind. 

“I’ll be right back,” he told his parents, as he quickly hopped off the mound. He had no idea what he was doing, as he gripped his book in his hands and headed towards the parking lot in a quick sprint. 

He wasn’t sure what he was going to even say to him, but that angry look on his face looked like absolute dread and self-doubt. He needed to know that he did well. He watched him the entire time. That team was good, and they knew how to hit. He watched him carefully work the strike zone the best he could. If he didn’t throw balls, to try and make them chase, then they would have hit even more off of him—and even if he was having a bad day, that was okay . 

He knew his words would probably fall on deaf ears, hell he might even yell at him, but he needed that ridiculously sad and anxious looking expression on his face to be gone. He’d rather him be angry. 

He also wanted to apologize for kicking him in the chest, and even if that made it worse, at least he knew they could just move past whatever happened yesterday. 

He could see him standing by the bus that had hauled all the baseball players from their college—but he wasn’t alone. A slightly taller man, with muscles that looked just like Minho’s and an incredibly similar build stood across from him with his hands on his hips.

“Want to explain what that was out there?” Jisung shivered at his tone, raging and dark. 

“I–I don’t know,” Minho answered softly, “I wasn’t on my game.” 

“No shit,” he snapped, and that caused Minho to close his eyes. It was quiet between them for a moment, and Jisung stepped behind a car so he wouldn’t accidentally have been seen. He was definitely eavesdropping on a conversation that he shouldn’t have been listening to, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away, seeing Minho’s nervous face. 

“Do you know how many scouts were here watching you today?” he asked then, and Minho just shook his head.

“Around four.” 

“There were five, and now I have to explain to five scouts why my son had a total fucking meltdown on the mound, but is still somehow worthy of pitching in the major leagues.” His voice was booming across the lot.

Minho was frozen, barely moving as he nodded his head. 

“You know I have some pull, but you’re out there playing like absolute garbage, so how the hell are you going to solidify a spot on a roster when you can’t pitch past the fourth god damn inning?!” He was screaming at him, and Jisung felt his heart racing with fury. 

“I’ll do better next game.” Minho answered calmly, but Jisung could see him shaking. 

“You better, because so help me god if I travel another five fucking hours to watch you pitch like shit and embarass me, you’re going to regret it.” 

He could see Minho blinking rapidly at the ground.

“Yes sir.” 

Minho’s dad turned on his heel and stomped away towards the other end of the parking lot. Jisung was shaking himself, knowing he shouldn’t have seen what he just saw. 

He wanted to approach him, but he knew he couldn’t. He just watched as Minho slowly got back on the bus, with that pained expression still on his face.  

It was Friday and he hadn’t seen Minho since the game earlier in the week. He hadn’t been at practice, and Jisung, for some reason, felt concerned. They hadn’t spoken since that night in Jisung’s hotel room, and honestly, he had been going insane. He had been waiting at his spot underneath the oak tree, and he sat at his favorite spot in the library multiple times that week, but Minho never showed up. 

He couldn’t get his expression from the game out of his head either, or his words from that night. He was going crazy not talking to him. He honestly had no idea what he wanted to even say, but he needed to see him. 

He knew he was crazy, but he couldn’t stop himself, especially when he saw Chan with a few other baseball players sitting in the lunchroom. He gathered up all the courage he had and made his way over to their table. He probably wouldn’t have if Chan wasn’t a super nice guy. His pounding heart calmed a bit as he smiled widely at him. 

“Hey Jisung, what’s up?” he asked kindly, as a few of the other baseball players were eyeing him up, making a blush appear on his cheeks. 

“Hey, um, do you–happen to know where Minho is this afternoon?” he asked, and Chan gave him a questioning look. 

“Minho?” 

His heart was slamming against his ribs as they were all staring at him. He hugged his book tightly to his chest. 

“Yeah–I have to ask him something so I–I was wondering if you knew.” He wasn’t sure why he was struggling to get the words out, getting even more uncomfortable as the guy closest to him at the end of the table was blinking up at him with a smile. 

“Well, I know he was visiting home for a bit this week, but he never told me when he was coming back, and I haven’t seen him on campus today,” he told him, and that made Jisung sigh deeply.

“Okay, thanks.” He smiled widely at him, trying not to sound too disappointed, but before he could turn around someone had grabbed his wrist. 

“Why do you look kind of familiar?” The guy at the end of the table had his hand circled around his arm, pulling it from his chest. Jisung glared at him, not appreciating his sudden touch.

“Felix is my brother,” he answered quickly, and that made his eyes sparkle. Jisung gasped when he stood up and pulled him in. He could see him eyeing him up and down.

“Really? You’re way cuter than your brother, I must say. No offense to Felix.” 

“Yeonjun, knock it off,” Chan chided, but the baseball player wasn’t listening. 

“How come Felix has never introduced us before? I’ve seen you hanging around the field, I should have come over to say hi.” 

Jisung felt his stomach fill with disgust as he leaned in, their noses almost touching.

“Get away from me,” he hissed, but that just made him chuckle. He would have pushed him back if he didn’t have his book in his hands. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He brought his hand up to brush the hair out of Jisung’s eyes, but before he could make contact, someone’s foot connected with his stomach. 

“Touch him again, and you’re sitting on the bench the rest of the season, and I’ll break your fuckin’ wrist.” 

Jisung felt himself freeze up as he heard Minho’s voice behind him. He shivered as he realized he had him by the arm, pulling him away from the guy who had a grip on him mere seconds ago. He was coughing aggressively, rubbing at his stomach.

“M–Minho what–what the fuck ? Are you out of your–mind?” He choked in between words, and Jisung could see that intense glare that always made his insides shake being directed towards his teammate. 

“Hey, I told you to knock it off.” Chan shrugged, continuing to eat the rice on his plate now. 

“He could have broken my ribs!” he complained, and Jisung felt Minho’s grip tighten on his wrist. 

“I should have broken your ribs,” he hissed, getting in his face. “Don’t touch him again, do you understand?” 

Jisung felt his heart slam up into his throat. 

Do you understand?

His knees felt weak, and if Minho weren’t dragging him off from the table then he probably would have collapsed right there. He let him lead him to the courtyard, where the sun was shining, and there weren’t as many people. 

“What were you doing talking to Yeonjun?” He sounded angry as he dragged him underneath the oak tree. 

“What? I wasn’t,” he denied, and he could see Minho’s jaw clench. 

“You weren’t? Then what was that?” 

“He–He talked to me first and–”

“He’s my teammate, but I won’t hold back calling him a piece of shit . He fucks with a ton of girls and guys on campus. He’s a sweet-talker so don’t–”

“I was looking for you,” he interrupted him, and that made Minho blink back at him, surprised. 

He finally let go of his arm, and Jisung kind of wished he hadn’t let go. He wanted to kick himself for thinking that, but he really liked the way Minho’s skin felt on his. 

“Why?” he snapped, and that caught Jisung off guard. He noticed that Minho’s expression completely changed. He hugged his book to his chest, and he felt his heart drop when he saw that glare was back on his face. 

“I–I don’t know…I haven’t seen you and—”

“So what?” 

Jisung swallowed hard, that sweet tone was gone. 

“So I thought that…maybe we could talk—”

“We don’t have anything to talk about,” he stated bluntly. 

Jisung felt his entire face burn with a deep blush. Minho was staring at him like he wanted him to disappear. His heart was aching .

He had momentarily forgotten that they hated each other. 

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he whispered, and that made Minho flinch. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

That was all he said before he stomped off towards the doors, leaving Jisung with tears in his eyes, underneath the oak tree. 

Chapter Text

He wasn’t sure why his heart was hurting so bad, or why he was even shocked in the first place. Minho was an asshole, and that had never changed. He realized that, especially after he had dismissed him in the courtyard yesterday.

He was more so embarrassed that he let himself fall for it, and that it had felt so fucking good. He hated that he couldn’t stop thinking about him, how attractive he was and how he had never felt that way in his entire life. The way he looked at him was burned into his mind and his words were on repeat in his head.

He slammed his pillow over his face, screaming frustratedly into it. 

We don’t have anything to talk about.

He felt his heart ache again as he remembered the glare on his face. He still didn’t get him at all. He really thought that something had changed between them, and he was a fool for thinking it had. 

He heard the door click, and he was relieved to see that Hyunjin was by himself. He knew if Felix took one look at him, he would know he was upset. He knew Hyunjin would be able to tell that he was upset too, but at least he could vent to him. Before he could though, he was bouncing on his bed, ripping the pillow from his hands. 

“He stayed in your room?” 

Shit. He still hadn’t told him, and it seemed like Felix had beat him to it. 

“And you didn’t tell me? I had to find out from Felix, who just casually mentioned it at lunch earlier today? Do you know I almost choked on a noodle?” he questioned over and over, and Jisung just groaned. He tried to grab the pillow back so he could hide from the conversation, but Hyunjin threw it to the floor. 

“Spill,” he demanded, and Jisung immediately blushed, recalling the events of the night in the hotel room. 

“There’s nothing to tell.” He shrugged, once again picking at the black nail polish that was chipped on his fingers. It was quiet for a moment as Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed in on him. 

“You’re lying,” he accused him, and that made Jisung sigh. 

He wasn’t lying completely, because what happened in that room between them didn’t matter. They still hated each other, and it was a moment of confusion. It had been a while since Jisung had been with someone, and maybe it had been a long time for Minho too— even though that was highly unlikely, due to how attractive he was. Their minds were definitely clouded by lust, and in the end, their feelings hadn’t changed. There really was nothing to tell. 

“I’m not.” 

Even he knew his voice sounded weak and unconvincing. 

“Jisung…” Hyunjin’s gentle tone surprised him, and he flinched when he felt a soft hand on his wrist, “Babe, what’s wrong? What happened?” 

He was anxiously picking at his fingers, and he had accidentally made them bleed a bit. He chewed his lip and clenched his fingers, trying to stop himself from tearing at his skin. 

He hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind, so maybe it would help to get it off his chest. He decided that if he could confide in anyone, he would be safe with Hyunjin. 

“We kissed,” he admitted, and Hyunjin’s mouth dropped open, “and he…touched me.” 

That made Hyunjin freeze. 

“Touched you? Like…hold on, do you mean that in a bad way or—”

“No, oh my god, no. I told him that he could. He asked if it was okay…and I… fuck , I just can’t believe I let him though.” His cheeks were burning. The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he got. 

Good boy.

He wished he could rip his brain out of his skull and reset his memories. 

“Holy shit, okay then—what’s wrong? Was it bad? What did he say? Did he tell you he likes you?” 

He was asking way too many questions, and Jisung’s head was about to explode. 

“I—I don’t know, it wasn’t bad…like, at all actually, but Hyunjin, I’m so confused…” he trailed off, once again remembering the way he had acted in the courtyard. 

“Why? You can tell me.” 

He breathed in deeply, trying to regain his composure. 

“It’s just…I thought we hated each other, but now I’m not sure. He can be a complete asshole but then…he can also be kind of sweet, and he’s also so attractive and I can’t stop thinking about him…” he admitted, remembering their conversations from that night—how he seemed genuinely interested in him by asking him about his romance novels, how gently he touched him as grabbed onto his nervous fingers, trying to calm him down. He shivered at the thoughts of his skin on his from that night which had sent him into a spiral. 

Hyunjin smiled brightly at him. 

“So you like him,” he stated, and that made Jisung place his head in his hands. 

“I don’t know,” he breathed out. He honestly had no idea what he was feeling. 

“Well you definitely feel something, right? I mean, you kissed him back and you can’t stop thinking about how hot he is.” Hyunjin smirked at him, and Jisung just rolled his eyes. 

“I should hate him. I went to talk to him yesterday about everything and he completely blew me off, saying we had nothing to talk about.”

“What? You’re kidding.” 

Jisung sighed, remembering the way his face looked in the courtyard. He had the same expression after he had kicked him square in the chest that night. He blushed thinking about it again. 

“Okay, well…he might be mad at me because…I kind of kicked him off of me after we messed around, but I was—fuck I was so embarrassed.” 

“You kicked him? Damn Jisung, no wonder he blew you off, he probably thinks you regret it or something…” 

Hyunjin looked surprised, and a sympathetic expression was on his face now. 

“I—I don’t regret it—I’m just—fuck, I’m just confused! He’s such an asshole to me but then he kisses me and acts like he’s this nice guy? And—And he was looking at me and saying all these things and—” 

“Jisung, calm down babe.” 

He was squeezing Hyunjin’s hand incredibly hard, and he hadn’t even realized it. He was getting all worked up, and he needed to take a deep breath.

He did just that, and relaxed his grip a little.  He kept thinking of Minho’s distraught face, as he reflected on the events of earlier in the week. He winced, remembering the fear on his face as he was taken out of the game. 

“Then the next day at the game, he didn’t pitch well and they lost, so he was probably upset about that too.” 

He didn’t want to mention his father berating him. It was definitely not his place to share that.

“Well, I think you should at least try and apologize for kicking him.” He offered his advice, and Jisung winced. 

“I—I know…” he groaned, and Hyunjin placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“And look, I really don’t know much about the guy, but from everything I’ve heard, I think he likes you.” 

That made Jisung’s heart race. 

Hyunjin didn’t say anything else as he skipped over to his own bed and pulled out his laptop and headphones to watch some show he had been talking about all week. 

Jisung just grabbed his book from his nightstand, sighing as he opened to the page he had left off at. He needed to distract himself, and reading was his favorite way to do that.

Minho was ignoring him. On campus, during baseball practice and even when he went to Felix’s dorm just to prove his suspicions. He left the room immediately after he walked in, with little to no acknowledgment of his existence before slamming the door shut behind him. 

Felix didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary, but Jisung’s heart stung a little bit as he watched him leave. 

He was getting tired of it though. 

The time he spent walking around campus to try and find him was almost embarrassing. He checked the student union, the cafeteria, the libraries, the courtyard and multiple other areas to sit and hang out. He was starting to lose hope until he caught sight of him by chance, sitting outside the building where he was pretty sure the history department was located. 

He felt his heart skip a beat, seeing his red cap on backwards as he read the textbook in front of him. He had his laptop out on the table, and he tapped his pencil on his bottom lip. 

Of course he looked gorgeous, just sitting there studying and doing homework. It kind of pissed him off a little bit. 

He snuck up to the table, even though his heart was racing, and snatched the textbook from right underneath his nose. 

Minho looked up at him incredibly confused, but when their eyes met, Jisung once again couldn’t decipher the expression on his face. 

“What are you reading?” Jisung asked, trying to copy the way Minho would tease him. He flipped through the pages, but he had to grab it with both hands since it was heavy. He had his own book under his arm, trying not to drop it. 

He could feel him glaring at him, and Jisung was definitely trying to keep his cool. 

He started to panic when he wasn’t saying anything. He closed it and read the front. It was his history textbook. 

“Are you a history major?” he questioned again, deciding that he was still curious and that he desperately needed him to say something. 

“Give me the textbook back and get out of here,” he snapped, and Jisung tried his best not to get hurt by his irritated tone. Instead, he sat down at the table, keeping the book at a safe distance from his hands. 

“It’s annoying when someone steals your stuff, isn’t it?” He sounded like a child, trying to mimic his tone from the other day. 

He winced when Minho slammed his laptop shut with an angry puff of air leaving his lips. He started shoving his things into his bag, and Jisung began to panic. He stood and threw his bag over his arm. 

He was leaving. 

“Hey, where are you—” he frowned when Minho leaned over to grab the textbook Jisung had stolen from him. He snatched it angrily, making him flinch. Apparently, he really didn’t want to talk to him. He looked down at the table with a pout, feeling his heart aching all over again. 

He gasped suddenly when gentle fingers lifted his chin. 

“Quit distracting me, Jisung.” 

He didn’t say anything else. 

He also noticed that his voice sounded hurt.

He could barely catch his breath as he watched him slam open the door and stomp into the history building. 

Jisung’s heart was pounding so fast that all the words he wanted to say were trapped in his throat. 

He was going to apologize. He wanted to tell him that he was a good pitcher. He needed that pained expression to go away. 

Which is why he wasn’t going to give up. Even if he was trying to avoid him, he was going to talk to him one way or another. 

He had decided that he was going to apologize to him, because he didn’t want him thinking that he regretted it—but he couldn’t do that with him dodging him everywhere. And maybe it was all pointless if he still hated him afterwards, but he was still going to try to make his apology heard. 

Although, he seemed extra unhappy when he showed up to his practice later that day. Normally he would glare at him, but this time when he caught his eye, he let out a defeated sigh. He turned away from him, not meeting his gaze again. 

Jisung watched him the entire time. His fastballs were incredible as always, and he completely mesmerized him as he threw them into Felix’s mitt with that loud signature smack. He seemed calmer, with that relaxed flow and his loose shoulders. He was nothing like he was at the game last week. 

Jisung was starting to think that throwing wild pitches was Minho’s biggest weakness. He could throw incredibly fast, but sometimes he couldn’t get a grasp on it. Sometimes, he would lose total control. It was strange, seeing him throw a perfect ball and then the next would fly so far off home plate that Felix could barely block it. Minho's irritation always showed whenever he threw one, looking at his hand like it had betrayed him. 

When practice was over, Jisung knew that heading to the dugout was a stupid idea. He blushed feeling all the players' eyes on him as he’d clutched his book to his chest. He could see the guy from the other day eyeing him up and down with a disgusting smirk. He tried to ignore him, but it was hard when his gaze was glued to his body. Felix was talking with their coach, so he had a few minutes to try and get Minho’s attention. 

As soon as Minho saw him standing in the dugout, his eyes went furious. He grabbed him harshly by the wrist, pulled him up the stairs and tugged him back behind the equipment shed. His arm was tingling from his touch. 

“What are you doing?” He sounded angry this time. Jisung tried to find his voice the best he could. Minho was dripping sweat, with the buttons of his jersey popped open to give his chest some air. He was staring a little, and he could see Minho getting impatient, waiting for his answer. 

“I—I wanted to talk to you,” he choked out.

“I already told you we have nothing to talk about,” he reminded him, and that made him bite his lip. 

“But I wanted to—”

“Stay away from the dugout, and stop following me around,” he interrupted him, his voice demanding and absolutely certain. He let go of his arm, and Jisung suddenly felt empty as he walked back towards the dugout. He blinked after him, feeling his heart threatening to shatter. 

Little did Minho know that Jisung was incredibly stubborn, and he wasn’t about to give up. 

Which is how he found himself pounding on the door of his dorm room at seven at night on a Thursday afternoon. Felix had texted him, saying he was meeting Hyunjin for dinner and asked if he wanted to come. He declined the offer to crash their date, and decided it would be the perfect opportunity to get Minho alone and in a place that only had one escape. If he was blocking it, then he had no way out, and he would have to listen to him. 

His eyes went wide when he opened the door, and that unreadable expression was back on his face. He also looked a little frustrated, as he leaned his head on the door with a sigh. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, making Jisung shrug his shoulders. 

“Looking for Felix, is he not here?” 

He pushed past him before he could let him close the door in his face. He turned as he made his way into the room, seeing Minho’s hand frozen on the handle. Minho’s jaw was clenched and his eyes were closed. 

Jisung could see his muscles perfectly in the cutoff shirt he was wearing. He tried not to look at them, but they were hard to ignore. 

He reluctantly let go of the door, and Jisung felt his heart beat racing as it clicked into place. It seemed every time they were alone in a room together, he would somehow get pinned to the bed. 

“You know he’s not here. I heard your brother talking to Hyunjin, saying you weren’t going to dinner with them.” 

That made Jisung flush a little. He looked towards the ground, feeling kind of embarrassed for getting caught for his deceitful actions. He was desperate though, trying to get him to talk to him for days now. 

“Get out.” 

His heart burned in his chest at his exhausted tone. He clenched his fingers into fists, getting frustrated. 

“No,” he denied, and that made Minho’s eyebrow twitch. 

“Jisung—”

“Why can’t you just talk to me for a fucking minute?” he snapped, but it sounded more whiny than he intended. 

He could see Minho grit his teeth. 

“How many times do I have to tell you we have nothing to talk about? Now get out.” 

He sounded fed up, and Jisung’s heart was threatening to snap. 

“I’m not leaving,” he refused, and that had Minho puffing out an annoyed breath. 

“God, you never fucking listen,” he complained, rubbing at his temple. 

“And you’re always such a dick!” he yelled, getting mad at his words. He was so tired of chasing him around. He was tired of his hot and cold attitude. He was tired of him proving that he was an asshole, and then still falling for his nice guy bullshit. 

Minho’s furious eyes flicked up to him, making a shiver run up his spine. 

He was moving towards him, and Jisung hadn’t even realized he was backpedaling until he felt his back slam into Felix’s dresser. 

“If that’s what you really think about me, then why are you here?” he growled at him, and Jisung felt all the air leave his lungs. 

He was so close, and Jisung forgot momentarily just how intense those eyes could be. 

“B—Because—I…” 

He couldn’t get the words out now. Everything he wanted to say was trapped inside his chest. 

“I’m an asshole, right?” he asked, and Jisung’s heart was hammering as Minho pressed his hand against the dresser near his head. Jisung swallowed thickly, still not able to get his voice to sound. 

“So isn’t it better to just stay away from me?” 

Jisung blinked at him, and he wondered desperately what that emotion was on his face. He looked from Minho’s eyes to his lips, and he suddenly lost all his sanity. 

All he knew at that moment was that he liked the feel of his skin on his. He craved his touch more and more these days, and he wanted to taste him on his tongue again. 

Which was how he found himself mindlessly pressing forward and capturing his lips. 

He could feel that Minho was frozen, and his heart leapt up into his throat when he realized he wasn’t kissing him back. He pulled away, seeing his blank face and open mouth. Jisung was blushing hard, because he couldn’t believe he had just done that. 

His plan was to talk to him, not kiss him again. 

“Um…I—”

“Fucking god dammit ,” Minho whispered, cutting him off. 

Jisung gasped as Minho’s hand grasped his face, slamming their lips together again. He whined into the kiss immediately, feeling Minho press him hard into the furniture behind him. Jisung’s hands tangled into the front of his shirt, and his fingers were incredibly shaky. 

Their kiss was heated, but a little less hungry than it was the night in the hotel room. Minho’s hand was soft on his skin, rubbing his thumb over his cheek as he dipped his tongue into his mouth, like he was coaxing him to open up.

Jisung didn’t need much convincing, pulling Minho closer and allowing him to tangle their tongues together. He slipped his hands to his biceps, desperately wanting to feel the muscles underneath his skin. 

He never thought someone could taste so good. He never thought a kiss could be so addicting. His brain was whirling, and the only thing he could think of was kissing Minho deeper. Which was why he groaned in discontent when he pulled away. 

“Minho—” he tried to say, but Minho cut him off with another quick kiss. 

“I tried to push you away, but you keep coming back to me. How am I supposed to get you out of my head when you pout at me so pretty like that?” he questioned, and Jisung’s body sparked with an intense fire at those words. 

He touched his thumb to his lips, brushing back and forth with a smirk on his lips. 

“You needed my attention that bad, huh?” he asked, pressing their foreheads together. Jisung burned, the embarrassment coursed through his veins and blushed his cheeks. 

“N—No…” he grumbled, trying to deny it. 

“No?” He chuckled, pulling back. He tickled his fingers underneath his chin, lifting his eyes to meet his. 

“I just—I wanted…to talk to you,” he mumbled, and he swore Minho almost looked guilty.

“What did you want to say, sweetheart?” 

Jisung’s heart swelled, hearing that kind voice returning. He never thought he would miss it so much. 

“I—I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry…for kicking you the other night,” he apologized. Minho looked shocked at his words, but brushed his thumb over his cheekbone. 

“You don’t have to be sorry about that,” he said calmly. His voice was soft, and Jisung liked the way it blanketed his ears. 

That wasn’t all he wanted to say though. He couldn’t get Minho’s fear ridden face out of his head as his father yelled at him in the parking lot. He wanted him to know that what he said wasn’t true at all. He wasn’t an embarrassment, and he was a good pitcher. 

“And—that I watched you pitch during the away game and you…I thought you did everything you could. Those guys were a hard team to beat, and I…thought you did well.” 

He was blushing deeply, and Minho’s hand had frozen on his cheek. When he looked up to catch his eyes, Minho was blinking at him with another blank expression. Jisung’s heart clenched when his hand dropped from his face. He was backing away from him, and Jisung was panicking, seeing that pained look return. 

“I pitched like shit, what the hell are you talking about?” He sounded pissed. 

Jisung winced, and his expression had completely changed again. Those intense glaring eyes were back, and Jisung felt his heart drop. 

“You didn’t though, you—”

“I was taken out in the fourth. Don’t fuck with me, you come to every damn game and practice so I know you know baseball, unless you’re really just sitting on the bleachers reading your stupid fucking books and not paying attention.”

That made Jisung’s eyes go wide. 

As soon as Minho said those words, he looked like he regretted them. Usually he didn’t care about things like that, but for some reason, coming from Minho, it had stabbed him right through the heart.  

“Fuck you.” 

He pushed past him, a little harder than necessary, but he was hurt. 

He flinched when Minho grabbed him by the wrist. 

“Jisung, wait—”

He froze when he saw a few tears drip down Jisung’s face. 

“You were right, we didn’t need to talk. You are an asshole. Now let go.” He ripped his arm out of his grasp, and quickly threw open the door. Minho didn’t even try to stop him as he ran down the hallway, with tears in his eyes once again. 

It was cold, and Jisung knew sitting outside was kind of silly—but honestly, it was quiet and calming in the courtyard with no one out there due to the intense chill in the air. 

He had his sweater on and zipped all the way up so he could dip his face into the heat when his nose would get too cold. His fingers were freezing, and he knew his ears were probably red from the bitterness. 

He jumped when he felt someone placing something over his shoulders. He grabbed the red and white fleece with wonder, and he looked up to see Minho settle in at the table across from him. 

“I’m a history major,” he said, taking out a sandwich. Jisung felt his heart slam against his ribs. It had been a few days since they had talked. 

He decided that he would try to forget about him. That’s what he told himself, and to solidify it, he also told Hyunjin. He didn’t ask any questions, seeing Jisung’s red blotchy face before he rolled over to face the wall. He was grateful, because he didn’t want to talk about it anyway. 

He couldn’t keep up with the back-and-forth between them. He had tried to make him feel better, and all he did was hurt him in return. He was an asshole, and he didn’t have to deal with it. 

So why was there an excited feeling zipping through his body seeing him plop himself down on the bench across from him?

“What?” he asked, confused. He could see his breath swirl in the cold air. 

“You asked if I was a history major. I am.” 

He remembered his question from the other week, being left unanswered as he stormed away. He sighed as Minho blinked at him. It was quiet between them, as Jisung didn’t know what to say and Minho was eating his lunch. He went to take his jacket off from around his shoulders, but Minho reached out, grabbing his hand. 

“Keep it on. You’re cold,” he told him. His skin was so warm on his, that he had a hard time pulling away. 

“I’m not, so you can take your jacket back. I don’t want it.” He definitely sounded snippy, but he couldn’t help it. That was the nature between them as always, except this time, Minho flinched at his attitude. He nodded gently as Jisung ripped it off his shoulders and practically threw it at him. It draped over half his face, and he sighed peeling it off him. 

He debated getting up and leaving. He was honestly getting so tired of their stupid game. He didn’t want to get dragged around by these uncertain emotions. He couldn’t figure him out, and he knew it would probably hurt him to try. 

Before he could close his book though, Minho tapped his finger on the cover. 

“What're you reading?” he asked, like he normally would. Jisung found it difficult not to scoff.

“A stupid fucking book,” he answered, and Minho sighed instantly. He rubbed a stressed hand over his face.

“Jisung, I’m sorry about the other day—what I said—I didn’t mean that.” 

Jisung shrugged, trying to look as unbothered as possible, and like he didn’t spend the other night crying about it. 

“Whatever. I don’t really care, can you just leave me alone?” he asked, and Minho bit his lip hard. It was quiet for another minute, before he sighed again. 

“No, I can’t,” he answered simply. His tone was so gentle again, and when Jisung looked up to see his face, his expression looked so defeated. 

Jisung decided that arguing with him was pointless, so he just went back to reading. He was also trying to ignore the way his heart was bouncing off his ribs like a ping pong ball. His grip tightened on his book when Minho reached out and touched the spine. 

“You like this author, don’t you?” he questioned, and normally he would snap at him, but he was just tired at this point. 

“Yeah, they’re my favorite, now can you please just go?” he asked again. 

He was shocked at his response. 

“Okay.”

He shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and swallowed it down. He stood, and Jisung wasn’t sure why his heart was aching again. He hated the confusing feeling so much. Minho grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, but before he made his way towards the door, he was wrapping his jacket around Jisung’s shoulders again. “I’ll go, but promise me you’ll wear this.” 

Jisung felt his heart skip a beat as Minho brushed his thumb over his cheek. He stared at him, clearly waiting for a response. 

“I–I promise.” 

He flushed, because he had no idea why he had said that, but Minho seemed to make him do all these crazy things. Those intense eyes shut down his system without fail, every single time. 

Minho softly smiled at him. 

“Good.” 

Jisung felt all the air leave his lungs, puffing out into the cool air. He pulled the jacket around his shoulders, breathing in Minho’s scent that was laced in the fabric. He watched him leave, and he desperately wished he didn’t have that tug in his heart, begging for him to come back. 

“Are you okay?” Felix asked suddenly, as they made their way to the baseball field. Jisung had definitely been spacing out. He was staring at his feet while he walked, and he had bumped into Felix’s sports bag at least twice now. 

“What? Yeah, I’m totally fine,” he told him, but he didn’t miss the unconvinced look on his face.

“Are you sure? You seem…a little down lately.” 

Jisung just smiled at him, with the biggest grin he could muster up.

“I’m just tired, I have so much homework and classes are annoying,” he explained, knowing he would understand that. 

He was quiet for a moment as he bit his lip, like he was debating on whether or not to say his next words.

“If you’re upset about what happened with your date, we can always talk about it,” he said suddenly, and that made Jisung blush a little. He hadn’t told him why they had decided to call off anything before it even started. He just told him it hadn’t worked out. He knew Felix had a hard time believing that, since he had been so excited for him to meet him. 

“No–I…I’m not upset about it. It is what it is, you know?” 

His fake smile was getting harder and harder to hold.

“I just noticed you’re reading your books a lot again recently, and that’s how it was when…” he trailed off with a frown. 

That made him wince. Sometimes, Felix wasn’t as dense as he thought. After Seungmin broke up with him, he read every single book he had to keep his mind off reality. He kept himself locked in his room, escaping the best he could with the only way he knew how. 

“I’m okay, Felix, really,” he assured him, and Felix just nodded. 

“Okay.” 

They didn’t speak anymore about it. Besides, he couldn’t tell him that Minho was the reason why he had been a little down lately. He didn’t want to tell him either. He still wouldn’t even know what to say. He would get worried if he told him about what happened in his hotel room that night, and he knew he would get pissed if he knew that Minho was toying with his heart—and he might actually try to fight him. 

It was cold again, and Jisung had brought Minho’s jacket so he could return it to him. That was probably why he was so spaced out. He couldn’t get that soft voice out of his head again. He hated him, but then that caring and gentle tone would make him think twice. He had it tucked under his arm and folded so Felix couldn’t see the name LEE written on the back of it. He hadn’t even realized his name was on the back of it until he got home later that day. 

Felix was making his way to the dugout, where Chan was getting some water and putting on his own gear. His heart fluttered seeing Minho on the mound, practicing his wind up. He swallowed carefully, as his eyes raked over his body. He flinched when Minho placed his foot down and his head whipped over to where he was instantly, like he knew he was watching him. Jisung once again felt the air get trapped in his lungs. That expression he couldn’t read was on Minho’s face, but he was just happy that he didn’t look angry upon seeing him. 

He chanced a wave in his direction, holding up his jacket so he knew why he was looking at him. His heart was racing as Minho hopped down from the mound and made his way to the first base line, where Jisung was biting his lip so hard he thought he might tear it off. 

He went to hold it out so he could take it, but he let out a tiny shocked groan when Minho poked his nose. 

“It’s cold again today, you can keep it.” 

He melted at that soft voice. 

“It’s not that cold,” he denied, even though it was.

“Your pretty nose is all red, you’re freezing.” 

Pretty.

“S-Shut up…”

He reached up to cover it with his hand, feeling insecure for some reason. His shy reaction made him smirk. 

“So, you’re here to watch me all practice again?” he teased, and Jisung rolled his eyes. He really couldn’t keep up with his hot and cold moods—but he couldn’t help but crave that sweetness of his. 

“You really need to get over yourself.” He tried to sound snippy, but his voice was unstable. 

“And you need to stop distracting me.” 

Jisung hadn’t realized when he had gotten so close, but Minho was able to reach out and brush his hair behind his blushed ear. He swallowed down the lump in throat, shaking his head.

“I’m not doing anything.” 

That made Minho chuckle. His gaze traveled from his eyes to his lips, and Jisung really thought he was about to lean in and kiss him. If he didn’t have his book and Minho’s jacket pressed tightly to his chest, he might have reached out to grab his jersey with his shaky hands to connect their lips. 

“Minho!” Chan called from behind home plate, startling them both. “Come on, let’s get practice started.” 

Jisung looked over Minho’s shoulder to see Felix glaring at them, and Chan waving with an impatient hand. 

“They’re calling you,” he told him, after he had stood there frozen for a few seconds. Minho eventually grabbed the jacket out of his hands and placed it over his shoulders. Jisung flushed, especially because Felix was watching them with curious eyes. 

Felix and Hyunjin had gone out for dinner again. He was thinking about tagging along, but honestly he hated ruining their dates. He knew it was difficult for them to see each other between classes, Felix’s practices and Hyunjin’s art shows, so he didn’t want to take away from their alone time. 

Besides, he wanted to finish another one of his books and start a new one. It was a Saturday night, and maybe that was lame of him to have no plans to do anything fun, but he didn’t mind. Staying in and reading was something he loved to do anyway. 

He was surprised when he heard a knock on his door. He definitely wasn’t expecting them to be back from dinner already. He placed his book down, and jumped off his bed to answer it. He felt his heart completely stop when he opened it to see Minho holding a brown paper bag in his hands. 

“Hey,” he greeted casually, like it wasn’t weird that he was showing up at his dorm. 

“Um, what are you doing here?” he asked. Minho just shrugged and pushed past him. He didn’t answer his question, and Jisung was staring at him with shocked eyes when he kicked his shoes off and sat on his bed. 

“What–get off my bed, are you insane—” 

“Your bed is way more uncomfortable than mine is,” he complained, bouncing up and down on it a little. 

“Then get the fuck off of it and get the hell out,” he snapped back, and that made Minho roll his eyes. 

“Don’t be so snippy,” he smiled at him, and Jisung hated that he was blushing so deeply. 

Jisung’s heart felt like it was about to burst from his chest. Minho was acting so strange this week. Ever since he had made him cry in his dorm room, he had been nothing but kind to him. His confusion was growing more and more by the day. 

Minho caught the irritated pout on his face then, wincing a little. He bit his lip, and quickly held out the brown paper bag to him.

“Here,” he stated, and Jisung swore he saw a slight blush on his cheeks. He looked at him skeptically, eyeing him and the bag up and down.

“What?” 

“This is for you,” he told him, and Jisung blinked at him with a questioning face. 

“For me?” he asked, and Minho nodded. 

“Yeah, so take it,” he sounded impatient, and a little embarrassed. 

Jisung reached out, taking it in his hands. He felt his heart flutter when he looked inside. 

“It’s…a book.” 

“Astounding observation,” he mumbled, and Jisung looked up at him with an annoyed face. Minho caught his gaze and flinched. “It’s a romance book by that author I see you reading all the time,” he added quickly, and Jisung took it out of the bag. 

It was one he hadn’t read yet. He felt the shock infiltrate his system, seeing Minho rub his hands together nervously. He noticed there were little tabs sticking out from the pages. He flipped it open, seeing writing in the margins. He felt those butterflies in his stomach when he realized it was annotated. 

“Did you annotate this?” he asked, genuinely curious. Minho nodded gently. 

“I was at the library, and I asked the guy working there if they had any books by that author you like and…I really liked this one, so I thought that…well maybe you’ve read it, but—but I know you like to do that kind of thing, so…” 

He was definitely finding it hard to produce his words. Jisung had never seen him act so jittery around him before. A small smile came to his face as he flipped through to see Minho’s writing on the pages. 

He couldn’t believe how fucking sweet that was of him. He had noticed his favorite genre to read, remembered him telling him about his favorite author, and even annotated it for him so he could read his thoughts as he read through. 

Sometimes, Minho really wasn’t an asshole at all, and it continued to confuse the hell out of him. 

“Thank you, Minho,” he said softly, but his heart was pounding heavily in his chest. 

“Jisung, I’m really sorry for what I said. I don’t think your books are stupid at all. I was just–”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I made you cry.” 

Jisung felt his heart leap into his throat. He pressed the book to his chest and looked at the ground because he couldn’t take the intense look in Minho’s eyes as he stared at him.

Their room was so small that it was easy for Minho to reach out and grab him by the wrist, pulling him in between his legs. His skin was tingling, and he knew Minho could feel him shaking a little bit. He looked down at him, seeing that expression he couldn’t read again. 

He tried to swallow down his feelings, but he couldn’t. 

“Minho…I’m—I’m so confused…” he whispered then, and he couldn’t believe he was saying that out loud, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to know what this thing was between them.

“I am too.” 

Jisung sighed, clutching at the book that Minho annotated for him even tighter. Minho reached out then, grabbing it from him and placed it on his nightstand. Jisung gasped as he pulled him down, his knees resting on the bed over his thighs. He held onto his shoulders, gripping tightly at his shirt. 

Minho’s hands were on his hips, and Jisung hoped he couldn’t feel his pulse that was shaking his entire body. 

“You’re driving me nuts, you know that?” Minho asked, and Jisung shook his head. Minho’s hand came up to cup his cheek, rubbing his thumb softly against it. “I can’t focus, I can’t get you out of my head, and I can’t…I can’t let it happen but you keep pulling me back in and distracting me, and it’s driving me fucking crazy.” 

Jisung was sure that his heart was never going to recover at this rate. His stomach was full of butterflies as Minho spoke those words that made his body shiver. 

“I didn’t…do anything.” He repeated his words from the baseball field the other day, and that made Minho chuckle again.

“You keep saying that, but then you look at me with those eyes that are begging me to hold you down and do all these things to you, and you’re so fucking pretty that I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

Jisung couldn’t believe he let out a gentle whimper when Minho’s hand tightened on his waist. 

“I–I don’t—” he tried to deny, but Minho pressed his thumb against his bottom lip, silencing him. 

“You don’t?” he teased, loosening his grip on him. “Then why are you holding onto me so tight and looking at me like that, huh?” 

He gasped as Minho let go completely, forcing him to wrap his arms around his neck or else he would slip off his lap. 

“Minho…” he breathed out, feeling his cheeks heating up.

“Yes, baby?”

He pushed away slightly, going crazy at his words and gentle tone. Minho pressed a gentle hand to his back, keeping him still. 

“If you don’t want it, Jisung, you have to tell me. I don’t want to upset you again.” 

Jisung felt his heart burst in his chest.

“I wasn’t—I wasn’t upset…I was just…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit that he was just completely embarrassed that he had made him so whiny and pathetic—and he was doing it again. 

“You were just what, sweetheart?”

He was going to pass out from that sweet voice, calling him such tender names.

“E–Embarrassed…that I…” 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed around me. You were so beautiful, and so good for me.” 

The shivers ran up his spine, because how he could just say those things and look completely calm. He definitely felt his arms squeeze around Minho’s neck a little too tight, but he didn’t complain. He couldn’t stop that feeling in his lower abdomen, sparking this unknown sensation that was making him shake as Minho praised him. 

He tried to hang his head to get those intense eyes off him for a moment while he collected himself, but Minho was having none of it, forcing his chin up to look at him.

“I want you, Jisung, tell me you want me too.” 

His words were gone. He had completely stolen them from his chest. 

“I–I want you.” 

“God, you’re so fucking good.” 

Jisung whined when Minho slammed their lips together. Every single hair on his body stood up as he connected their mouths in a heated kiss. He was pulling him down, and Jisung almost lost his mind when he grinded his hips up into his ass. 

Because he could feel him perfectly, pressing into him and making him gasp for air. 

He couldn’t believe he was in this position again, with Minho devouring him and being barely able to catch his breath. His heart was beating so fast that it was probably dangerous, and he could feel Minho’s hands slip up underneath his shirt. He grabbed onto his waist, and Jisung whined as he felt his fingernails digging into his skin slightly. 

He trailed his kisses down to his neck, sucking harshly right below his ear. 

“Don’t—Don’t leave marks that high…” he complained, and that made Minho chuckle against his skin.

“Why not? That way I can show everyone you’re mine.” 

Mine.

Jisung shuddered as he pulled away to leave another hickey right on his collarbone. The one he had from a couple weeks ago had completely healed. He had been able to hide it perfectly, and he knew the one that was just sucked freshly on his skin was going to be tough to cover. 

He tugged Jisung’s shirt over his head and immediately began pressing kisses down his chest. Jisung was going crazy, feeling the tingling sensation swarming his body. He knew he needed to get his mind back, but Minho was making that difficult with the way he touched him so gently. 

Last time, he had him completely melted in his hands, but this time Jisung wasn’t going to let himself be the only one losing his composure. 

Minho must not have been expecting it, because he gasped when Jisung reached between his legs and gripped him hard through his jeans. A sharp breath of air left his lungs and fanned across his skin. Before he could lose his confidence, he was sliding off his lap and onto the floor. He didn’t miss Minho’s wide eyes, staring at him getting on his knees in front of him. 

“What are you doing, baby?” he asked softly, brushing his hair behind his ear again. Jisung still had his hand on the front of his pants where he could feel the swell of his cock underneath the fabric. He blushed at his words again, but he shrugged.

“I want to do it for you this time,” he told him and he could see Minho bite his tongue.

“You don’t have to do that—”

“But I want to,” he interrupted him, and Minho’s eyes slowly closed for a moment. Jisung wouldn’t lie that it was nice to see his cheeks heat up red for once. He quickly grabbed at the button on his pants before he could deny him, and tried to yank them down his thighs. It was a struggle until Minho decided to help him, pulling them along with his boxers. 

Jisung’s eyes blew wide at the sight of Minho naked and erect in front of him. Seungmin didn’t even come close to being that big. He looked up, a little nervous, and he didn’t miss the confident smirk on Minho’s face.

“You can take it, can’t you?” he asked, and Jisung shivered again, as Minho tickled underneath his chin. 

He nodded, and he winced when Minho grabbed at the back of his neck. 

“Tell me you can.” 

“I–I can take it.” 

Jisung wasn’t sure where his blind obedience came from whenever Minho directed a question at him that got his heart slamming in his chest, but every time he answered without even thinking. 

“Then show me.” 

Jisung bit his lip and his stomach felt like snapped wires, sparking and dancing around inside him. He took a deep breath through his nose before reaching out and grasping him in his hands. He saw Minho wince a little, knowing his skin was a little cold compared to how warm he was. 

He was definitely hesitating a little bit, and Minho must have noticed because he was gently caressing his cheek. Jisung pumped him up and down a bit, and was definitely losing his cool. He swallowed nervously before letting his mouth carefully open, licking at him teasingly slow. 

He blinked up at him, as he took the head into his mouth, and he already knew that it was going to be a struggle. It was stupid how big he was, trying to wet him as best he could before taking him deeper. He could see Minho’s jaw unhinge, and his tongue swiped over his teeth before he bit down harshly on it.

Jisung kept his gaze on him, as he pressed more into his mouth. He tried his best not to gag, but he was pretty sure it was impossible to even fit half of him down without choking slightly. It had been a while since he had done this, and he had never sucked someone off that was so big before. He was starting to feel insecure, because he wasn’t even sure if he was doing a good job. 

Especially because Minho’s hands stayed clenched into the bedsheet and the only thing that was moving were his eyes as Jisung bobbed up and down the best he could. He was starting to get frustrated, not hearing any sounds coming from him. He had Jisung a whining mess with just a few touches, and he kind of wanted to do the same to him. 

He pulled off instantly, breaking his gaze and staring at the floor.

“Is it…is it not good? I can—if you tell me how to—”

He was cut off as his cheeks were being crushed a little by Minho’s hands, bringing his eyes back up to meet his.

“Sweetheart, it’s so good that I’m trying not to fucking cum already,” he breathed out, thumbing his bottom lip. “So stop that, and put those pretty lips back around my cock for me, yeah?” 

Jisung felt himself shiver again. He quickly opened his mouth, and Minho helped guide himself back inside, pushing almost too deep and making him gag a little bit. Minho smirked, brushing his hair back and out of his eyes. 

“There you go, you listen so well,” he praised, and Jisung whined a little with Minho’s cock in his throat. “You just wanted me to fill that snippy mouth of yours, didn’t you?” 

Jisung felt the tears come to his eyes as Minho pushed down even farther. He choked a little bit, feeling it deeper than anyone had ever gone. He tried to nod anyway, and he didn’t even care that it was embarrassing. For some reason, he just wanted to please him, regardless if he looked ridiculous. 

“Fuck, Jisung, you look so pretty like this,” he whispered, and Jisung blinked at him as a few tears rolled down his cheeks. It was too much, he could barely breathe, the spit was rolling down his chin and he knew he was filthy, but that look in Minho’s eye kept him bobbing his head.

“Can I cum in your mouth, sweetheart? Or do you want it all over that pretty face of yours?” 

He clenched his eyes shut as he blushed deeply. He was glad his face was already red.

He felt Minho tap at his cheek.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded, and Jisung felt his heart flutter painfully. “I want you to look at me when you make me cum, do you understand?” 

Jisung shuddered, he nodded his head, but once again that wasn’t good enough for Minho.

“Tell me.” 

He tried to say it, with no air in his lungs and his cock deep in his throat. It was definitely not decipherable, but Minho just looked pleased that he had tried to say it. 

“You’re so good, Jisung. So good sweetheart. Take it for me.” 

Jisung had no idea that would drive him absolutely insane, and he tried not to choke as Minho was cumming down his throat. He watched as Minho’s mouth went slack, and he pulled Jisung’s face in so he could get even deeper. Their eyes were connected as Minho finished deep into his throat, and Jisung blinked tears down his cheeks. He had to press his hands against his thighs when he couldn’t catch his breath, and Minho looked a little guilty when he popped off in a coughing fit. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologized, brushing the spit, cum and tears from the corner of Jisung’s mouth. “Here.”

Minho quickly yanked his shirt off his body, wiping Jisung’s face to get him clean. He was blushing, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t totally aching in his sweatpants at the moment. He gasped when suddenly he was being lifted underneath his arms, and placed back on Minho’s lap. Jisung whined when he dipped his hand into his boxers, and fisted his hand around him. 

“Ah– Minho–” 

“That’s right sweetheart, let me hear you. I want you to cum all over my hand again.”

He was shaking, shivering and squirming in his grasp as he had one arm wrapped around his waist, with the other pumping him up and down perfectly. He had been so turned on from sucking him off that it was embarrassing how wet he was. 

His chest was burning red and Minho’s lips were sucking gently at his nipple as he lifted up onto his knees, involuntarily thrusting his hips forward. It was insane, how just a few touches from him would have his mind muddied and his body convulsing—because he was cumming already, and grasping onto him for dear life. 

He whined and moaned pathetically, with his mouth open and gasping for air. 

“So quick baby, you liked sucking my cock that much?” he teased, and Jisung didn’t even care, because the answer was yes, he did. He was breathing heavily, his head slumped on his shoulder as he shuddered and came down from his high. He could feel Minho pressing kisses to his neck—gentle open mouthed pecks. His hand caressed his lower back, and Jisung felt like all his energy had been expended. He was limp in his arms, and after he hadn’t moved for a few minutes, Minho carefully lifted him so he could place him on his bed. 

It was quiet, and just like before, reality was settling back in. Jisung was avoiding eye contact like crazy, and even Minho was a little quieter than normal. He cleaned him up anyway, using his shirt to pat him dry. Jisung slapped his hands away when he tried to pull up his sweatpants. 

“I–I got it,” he told him, and Minho just nodded. 

It was awkward. 

Once again, Jisung had completely lost his head, but now that he had it back, he was contemplating his decisions. They didn’t even really talk about what was going on between them, they let their lust cloud their minds instead. 

He sat up a little and chanced a glance in Minho’s direction, seeing that worried look on his face. Last time he had kicked him in the chest, it was no wonder he looked so anxious. 

Neither of them clearly knew what to say, as Jisung picked at his fingernails and Minho played with his dirtied shirt in his hands. 

“If you want…you can probably borrow one of Felix’s shirts that doesn’t fit me. I have a few of them.” He finally spoke, and Minho nodded. “I can grab it.” 

He quickly took the opportunity to hop off his bed and get a few feet away from him. His heart was still pumping wildly in his chest, and he wished he could get the feel of his touch off his skin so it would stop tingling. He grabbed one of Felix’s shirts from his dresser, and held it out to him.

“There. It might be a little small, but it’s better than being naked, right?” 

That made Minho chuckle a little bit. He took it from him and threw it on and over his head. Jisung grabbed a hoodie, wanting to cover his own skin. He was about to sit back down on his bed, but Minho had grabbed him by the wrist again. His skin was already burning, but his touch made him feel like he was just engulfed in flames. 

Jisung wanted to ask him what he wanted, and why he was looking at him with such a strange expression, but he couldn’t since the door was opening. Jisung quickly jumped back, and his eyes connected with his brother’s who had walked in with Hyunjin right behind him.

“Jisung?” he asked, the confusion clear in his tone. “Minho? What are you doing here?” 

Jisung’s entire body froze and even Hyunjin looked shocked. He tried to ignore his knowing face, beaming at him over Felix’s shoulder. 

“Hey guys,” Minho greeted them, and Jisung had no idea how he sounded so fucking calm. 

“Um, Minho was just—I left one of my books on the bleachers during practice yesterday–and Minho was just returning it,” he lied, grabbing the annotated book Minho had gifted him off his nightstand to show them. 

Felix looked at him curiously, and Minho’s expression had changed again—completely undecipherable. 

Minho just nodded, with a tight smile on his face. 

“Yeah, I gotta head out though, so, Felix, I’ll see you tomorrow. Practice starts at five,” Minho announced suddenly, and Jisung felt his heart drop into his stomach. Minho barely looked at him as he headed for the door. 

“Minho,” he called out, and before he could pass by Hyunjin to leave the room, he looked behind him, “I really appreciate it a lot.” 

Minho blinked at him for a moment, but he just gave him a curt nod. Jisung swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling confused all over again. 

He could feel both Felix’s eyes and Hyunjin’s curious stare on him as the door closed behind him. 

“Jisung, you should have come to dinner with us, it was so good. We seriously all have to go together next time.”

Hyunjin was trying to change the vibe in the room. He knew what had happened between them, since it was definitely written all over Jisung’s face. He was probably going to ambush him later when Felix finally left their room. 

He was relieved when Felix’s stare let up on him. He jumped into conversation with Hyunjin, agreeing that he should come next time. Jisung tried his best to give his responses, even though at the moment he was a little preoccupied in his head. He sat on his bed as he ran his fingertips over the spine of the book. 

He had annotated a romance novel for him, one written by his favorite author. 

And he had sucked his dick. 

He was so fucking confused. 

Minho was ignoring him again, and Jisung was losing his mind. When he tried to approach him at practice the next day, he immediately ran off. Jisung felt his heart clench in his chest when he hadn’t looked at him once. He brought the book he had annotated, and he couldn’t stop reading it as he waited for his practice to finish. His heart would shimmy into his throat after every page, seeing his thoughts on the paper in front of him.

They love each other— just say it already.

They should have kissed in chapter one, but chapter four will do I guess.

I think you’ll like this part.

They can’t resist each other, can they?

Jisung chuckled, reading his writing in the margins. He had finished the book in just a few hours. He couldn’t stop reading it, and when he got to the end, his heart melted.

I’m sorry for making you cry. 

He was so confused. 

Especially since he had been avoiding him. It had been a few days, and Jisung still hadn’t seen him on campus. When he tried to talk to him after practice he wouldn’t stick around long enough for him to catch him. 

They didn’t have each other's numbers, but he could have gone out of his way to ask Felix for it if he really had wanted to contact him. 

He was getting tired of his bullshit. Which is why he ambushed him at practice early, stomping up to the mound while he was focused and practicing his fastball. He had his headphones in, and he was able to sneak up behind him so he couldn’t run away. 

He wasn’t planning on pushing him so hard that he stumbled forward, but he hadn’t realized how pissed he was. Minho glared back at him, and that made him lose it. 

“Why are you such an asshole?!” He yelled, and that made Minho’s eyes go wide as he yanked out his earbuds. 

“Jisung, what—” 

“You’re ignoring me,” he accused him, and Minho winced hearing his hurt tone. 

“I'm not ignoring you,” he said calmly, and that made Jisung scoff. 

“You’re such a fucking liar. I haven’t seen you at school, and then I tried to come see you at practice and you won’t even look at me. After what we did—how could you—” 

He swallowed, trying to keep his tears in his eyes. He was embarrassed. He let himself fall for it again . 

He felt his cheeks being held suddenly, and Minho’s baseball mitt had hit the ground, surrounded with a cloud of dirt. 

“Fuck, don’t cry, okay? I’m sorry, I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to.” 

“You didn’t mean to ignore me?” he looked at him incredulously, and if his hands weren’t so comforting on his face he would have slapped them away. 

Minho sighed deeply. 

“We have a game this weekend. I’m pitching again, and I need to be focused, okay? I—I need to pitch well and I’m nervous about this game.” He looked like he admitted more than he wanted to, flinching a little at his words. 

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, and Minho’s hands dropped from his face. 

“I’m…not.”

“You just said you were nervous,” he fought back, not letting him hide his feelings. It was quiet for a few minutes as Minho ran a frustrated hand through his hair. 

“My dad is coming to this game, and there are going to be a lot of people from the major leagues watching, so I don’t have fucking time for this bullshit right now,” he snapped, and that made Jisung laugh. 

“Bullshit. My feelings are bullshit. You’re right, I totally forgot.” 

That made Minho rub his hands over his face. 

“No, that's not what I said.”  

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He shook his head and turned on his heel. He knew he was probably acting a little dramatic, but he didn’t care. His heart ached, and he hated when Minho looked at him with that irritated glare.

He hated this back and forth, and if he didn’t want to talk to him, then so be it. 

Before he could storm off, Minho had grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him back to the mound. Jisung was about to push him off, but he felt all the air leave his lungs as he slammed their lips together. He slipped his hand around his waist, pulling him in. He couldn’t believe how quickly he melted into him, wrapping his arms around his neck as he kissed him deeper. 

It didn’t last long, and Jisung let out an embarrassing groan when Minho pulled back. He pressed their foreheads together, and they were both breathing a little heavily. 

“Come over after practice. I’ll make your brother leave for the night,” he told him, and his heart was beating wildly. 

“O–Okay.” He folded so quickly. Just one kiss from him made all his anger dissipate into thin air. 

Minho looked conflicted, as Jisung blinked at him with a soft pout. 

“I can’t seem to get you you of my fucking head, no matter what I do, huh?” 

Minho sighed, pulling back and pressing a gentle hand to his cheek. He was looking at him with that expression that drove him nuts again, and Jisung wished he knew what he was thinking whenever he stared at him like that. 

He wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to ask him why he kept saying that, but Chan had shown up, so he never got the chance. Jisung quickly made his way over to the bleachers, ignoring the smirk on the backup catcher's face. He could see him whispering something to Minho, which got him a quick jab of the elbow to his gut when he got too close. 

Jisung flushed and tried not to let his eyes wander too much during practice. Of course he couldn’t help it though, seeing Minho’s fastball always had him mesmerized. He barely threw any wild pitches, and Jisung found himself smiling at him, seeing him looking happy and pleased on the mound for once. 

He was nervous though, as he opened up the book Minho gave him, beginning to read it over again. 

I hope you like this book. 

It’s romance, and not some lame fantasy. 

And it’s your favorite author. 

He wasn’t sure what they were right now, but all he knew was that he couldn’t get him out of his head either. 

Chapter Text

He needed to tell Felix about what was going on between him and Minho. He was just afraid of what his reaction might be. Especially since the two of them got into a little spat again at practice. Whenever Minho had to pitch for a game, he always seemed to be on edge, getting snappy with his teammates. 

Chan was the only one that knew how to handle him, always being the mediator between him and the rest of the team. On their walk home, Felix was irritated, practically stomping all the way back to Jisung’s dorm room. He was grumbling to himself, with his hand clutched to his bag tightly.

“So because he can’t throw a good pitch when I ask for it, it’s my fault?” 

Jisung knew he wasn’t looking for an answer, he just wanted to complain and get it off his chest. 

“He can criticize me, but I can’t criticize him? God, he is the most frustrating pitcher I have ever worked with.” 

Felix threw his bag down on Hyunjin’s bed and started stripping himself of his clothes, like he was in his own dorm. He had pretty much lived there most of the time anyway, and Jisung didn’t mind—for the most part. As long as he and Hyunjin kept the face-sucking noises to a minimum, then it was just like being at home. 

He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it over to Minho’s dorm though, if Felix was planning on staying in his room. He would definitely ask him where he was going. For now, his plan was to lie and say he was going to study at the library all evening, because that might be the only excuse he had that was believable. 

“I’m going to take a shower.” Felix announced, and Jisung flinched at the sound of him slamming the door. Whatever Minho had said to him must have really pissed him off. He sighed, knowing that dealing with the two of them was going to be difficult. 

He decided that it would probably be best if he left before Felix got back, which is why as soon as the door shut, he hopped off his bed and packed a few clothes into his backpack. His eyes flicked over to his nightstand to where the book Minho had annotated for him was laying. Usually, when he was finished reading them, he would put them back on the shelf, but for some reason, he couldn’t put it away. He had read it at least four times now, and every time, Minho’s handwriting and little notes would send his heart into a spiral. 

He grabbed it and shoved it in his bag carefully, blushing a little, knowing it was pathetic that he couldn’t leave it behind. His heart was racing, but he was ready to head over. He took his phone out to send a text to Felix, saying he was leaving. His eyes flicked over to see Felix’s phone light up on Hyunjin’s bed, seeing that he left it behind. 

He eyed it a few times. He didn’t have Minho’s phone number, but he knew Felix did. 

He knew it was wrong of him to snoop through his brother’s phone, but he thought maybe it was best to text Minho and tell him that he was on his way— and he wouldn’t lie that he kind of just wanted his number without having to ask Felix, since he would have to make up a lie as to why he needed it. He grabbed his phone off of Hyunjin’s bed, punching in the passcode—their birthday, stupid and simple—and scrolled through his messages. 

His heart almost fell out onto the floor, opening Minho’s contact and seeing their conversation. 

Lee Minho 

Received: 7:55 P.M. 

don’t bother coming back to the dorm tonight i have someone coming over 

Sent: 7:56 P.M.

No problem, although I feel bad for whoever it is.

Jisung almost choked.

Lee Minho 

Received: 7:58 P.M.

funny, just for that, i’ll fuck him on your bed

He was burning red and he fumbled Felix’s phone out of his hands when he heard the door behind him open. It bounced off Hyunjin’s bed and hit the floor with a loud thud.

“Oh shit.” He grabbed it immediately, and sighed with relief when there weren’t any cracks on the screen.

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin asked as he kicked his shoes off. Jisung flushed and shook his head quickly. He tried to look as innocent as possible, and not like he was just snooping through someone’s phone and seeing something he definitely wasn’t supposed to see.

“Nothing.” 

He was so shocked by their texts that he couldn’t even pretend to be innocent. He looked guilty, even though his red cheeks were from Minho’s words and not from getting caught snooping. 

I’ll fuck him on your bed.

His heart was hammering. 

“Isn’t that your brother’s phone?” Hyunjin noticed before he could nonchalantly place it back on his bed. 

“I was—it was ringing, and it was our mom so I thought I’d just answer it. Felix is in the shower.” He was proud of that lie, it seemed good and believable enough. 

Hyunjin eyed him. He definitely didn’t believe him at all.

“Are you leaving for the night?” he asked, seeing his bag draped over his shoulder. Jisung was starting to sweat.

“I–I’m going to study in the library. I have a big exam coming up so I just— you know I need to focus.” 

He knew he didn’t have to lie to Hyunjin, because he knew he wouldn’t judge him, but he was kind of embarrassed. He had just told him the other day that he was giving up on whatever bullshit was going on between them, especially after he made him cry. He knew it was difficult for Hyunjin to keep things from Felix too, since he was a terrible liar, and he wasn’t ready to tell his brother about them yet. He was already pissed off at Minho, and there was no way he would take it well if he told him about their not-so relationship. 

“I don’t believe you, like at all, but I’m not going to force you to tell me.” 

Jisung felt his heart clench when he saw the disappointed look on Hyunjin’s face. He sighed, because he really was his only friend, besides his brother, and lying to him probably wasn’t a great way to keep their friendship strong. He already felt guilty enough lying to Felix. 

“Okay, fine. I’m—I’m going to Minho’s dorm,” he admitted. Hyunjin looked surprised, and also a little happy that Jisung had decided to spill. 

“I thought you were done with him?” he questioned, and that made Jisung pout.

“Yeah, well…I was, but…” 

He shrugged, and Hyunjin smiled softly at him, seeing his embarrassed face. 

“Are you sure, Jisung? Not to bring it up, but you were pretty upset earlier this week,” he mentioned, and that made Jisung wince. 

“I know but…he didn’t mean it, and he apologized and he…bought me a book and annotated it for me which was like— so sweet of him and—”

“So are you guys dating now?” he asked, and Jisung blinked at him. 

“N–No, we haven’t really talked about that…” he trailed off, biting his lip. He had no idea what they were, which was the reason why he kind of wanted to go over to his dorm and force a conversation out of him. 

Hyunjin gave him a worried face.

“Look, just— I know you like him, and I’m a firm believer that he likes you, you know I got that vibe since the first day I met him, but I don’t want you getting hurt if you fuck him tonight and then he decides he doesn’t want a relationship with you, because I feel like you’re not really into the whole friends with benefits kind of thing and he seems a little…unsure of what he wants, in my opinion,” he explained, and that made Jisung flush.

That was true, he never hooked up with anyone before. He had only had sex with one person before in his life, so having sex and not being in a relationship wasn’t something he had ever done before. 

His heart was also racing at the fact that he didn’t even deny it when Hyunjin mentioned that he liked him. Those feelings in his chest were definitely not hate anymore. 

“I’m—I’m going to ask him what we are tonight. I—I don’t want to be just some hookup,” he assured him, because he wasn’t about to sleep with some guy who had no interest in being together. That wasn’t his style, and he already had been way too intimate with him without any discussion of their relationship. 

Hyunjin sighed, but nodded anyway. 

“Okay, good, and you really should tell your brother.” 

That made Jisung wince.

“I can’t yet.” 

“Why not? He’s going to find out sooner or later, and I think you know more than I do, that if he realizes you’ve been keeping this from him, he’s gonna be really upset.” 

That was definitely true. He had never kept anything from Felix in his entire life. He knew everything about him, and if he found out that Jisung had been seeing Minho, and lying to him about it, he honestly wouldn’t even know how he would react. 

“I don’t even know what’s going on between us, and they hate each other. They fight all the time and— Felix is going to be so pissed if I tell him that I actually like the guy that’s a huge asshole to him.” He sounded guilty, and that made Hyunjin frown sympathetically. 

“I’m sure he won’t be pissed. Maybe shocked, but if you like him, I think he would respect that.” He offered his thoughts, and that honestly did make Jisung feel a little bit better. He bit his lip, knowing that he was just being a coward and running from his problems. Even though Felix was his brother, he was also his best friend, and letting him down was something he was terrified of. They had always been there for each other, no matter what—always honest, and never any secrets. 

“I’ll tell him soon.”

Hyunjin grinned at him.

And speaking of Felix, he needed to leave before he came back and started asking all these questions about where he was going. He quickly grabbed his phone to get Minho’s number like he had wanted, while trying to ignore Hyunjin’s curious glance and Minho’s texts. 

“If Felix asks, I’m at the library, studying for a math exam that I am super stressed out about,” he told him, and that made Hyunjin groan.

“Fine, but all this lying is making me feel like a bad boyfriend,” he grumbled, and Jisung did feel a little bad about dragging Hyunjin into his plan of deception. 

“I’ll make it up to you later.” 

Before he could leave the room, Hyunjin called out to him.

“Be safe, use protection, oh and let me know how big his—”

He closed their door on him before he could finish his stupid sentence. 

It was ridiculous how nervous he was. He stood in front of Minho’s door for at least five minutes without moving a muscle. The people who walked by in the halls probably thought he was crazy, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock on the door. He had texted him he was on his way, and his heart did little flips when he texted him back.

hurry up i want to kiss you

He finally raised his hand to pound on it, before he could chicken out. He winced at how loud it was, and he could barely catch his breath as he waited for the door to open. He couldn’t help his jaw going slack a little bit as Minho opened the door, with his hair wet and slicked back from taking a shower—but at least he had a shirt on this time, because if he didn’t, he would have definitely passed out from heart failure. 

Minho smirked, and Jisung didn’t even have a chance to say hello before he was being tugged inside. The door closed behind him, and his bag fell to the floor as Minho pressed him against it. Before it could even click shut, he connected their lips in the softest kiss he had ever felt before. It wasn’t aggressive in the slightest, and his heart fluttered up into his throat when Minho pulled back too soon with a sweet smile.

“Hey,” his voice was gentle. Jisung could barely hear since his pulse was beating wildly in his ears.

“H–Hi…” 

He could hardly get the words out, and Minho chuckled, seeing his shocked state. 

“Are you still mad at me?” he questioned, bringing his hand up to touch his cheek. 

That’s right. He had completely forgotten that he was mad at him. He had ignored him for days without an explanation, after what they had done together. He wanted to thank him for reminding him of his bullshit, but instead he just slapped his hand away softly. 

“Yeah.” He answered simply, and Minho let a big frown come to his face. 

“I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me, please?” 

Jisung was about to lose it. He was acting so sweet, looking at him with these big round brown eyes, looking so stupidly attractive, and he hated that he was about to just forget about it and slam their lips together again. 

But he took a deep breath, and turned his face to the side so he couldn’t be manipulated by that cute pleading face of his. 

“Then you shouldn’t be an asshole.” His tone was snippy, but he couldn’t help it. Jisung tried not to let out a gasp as Minho pressed his forehead to his temple, kissing at his cheek lightly. 

“I know. I was an asshole, and I’m sorry.” 

Jisung was so fucking confused right now. He was expecting him to get mad at his attitude, or tell him he was being snippy and overreacting. He wasn’t thinking that he would actually admit to it. His heart was doing tricks inside his chest as he could feel his eyelashes blink against his skin as he pressed little kisses onto his cheekbone. Minho was going to make him need to see a cardiologist. 

He needed to push him off though, or else he was going to completely fold. He pressed his hands to his chest, and he almost melted as he could feel his muscles flex underneath his touch. He blinked at him with a giant pout as Jisung grabbed his bag from the floor and threw it onto Felix’s bed. He flushed, suddenly remembering their text messages. 

He decided that he wouldn’t stay if he wasn’t going to be honest with him and have a conversation about what the fuck was going on between them. Even if Minho had walked up to him from behind to wrap his arms around his waist so he could tug him in from behind, he wasn’t going to break. He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his neck where the hickey he had was still healing. 

“Don’t you dare make that worse,” he warned him, as he could feel Minho’s lips suctioning a little bit. 

He chuckled, but obliged as he continued to kiss his neck over and over again. It tickled, and Jisung could feel the butterflies in his stomach. 

“But I like marking up your pretty skin, baby.” 

Minho’s words made Jisung shudder. He was so pathetically weak against him, and he wondered if he would ever get used to it. 

“W–Well too bad, don’t do it.” He denied him, trying to wiggle out of Minho’s grasp a little bit. 

“Why not?” 

Jisung bit his lip, knowing he had to bring it up sooner or later. 

“B–Because we’re not together, they’re hard to hide and I don’t want my brother asking questions.”

That made Minho freeze. He felt his arms untangle from around his waist, and Jisung knew saying that might have caused him to pull away. 

He could hear him sigh, and that made him turn around quickly. That pained look was back on his face, and Jisung wished he could understand what he was feeling at the moment. 

And he also needed to get his own feelings out. 

“Look, I can’t keep doing—whatever this is,” he gestured between them, “where you’re mean to me, telling me I’m distracting and that you don’t want me around, but then you’re being so nice that I get confused because I don’t know which one is the real you.” 

He didn’t mean for his voice to crack, and he hated that it did because he just sounded even more pathetic. 

“Jisung…”

He sounded defeated, and he was terrified that it was about to end, right then and there with that conflicted look on his face. Jisung couldn’t stop himself from blurting out his next words. 

“I—I like you, which is so fucking stupid, because I don’t get you, or this, but I just…” 

Minho’s eyes were wide, hearing his confession. Honestly, he couldn’t believe he had said that out loud either. He was blushing as they stood there awkwardly. He almost wished he could take his words back, seeing that uncertain expression intensify on Minho’s face. 

“Jisung, we can’t be together.” 

He tried not to let that simple sentence stab right through him, but he couldn’t stop them from penetrating his heart. Minho wasn’t looking at him anymore, since his eyes were stuck on the floor near Jisung’s feet. 

“Then I’m done.” 

He shrugged, trying to sound as calm as possible. Inside, he was anything but calm. He felt so rejected and so unbelievably stupid for letting himself fall for him. 

At least he could end it before he could get in too deep. He went to push past him, but Minho grabbed his shoulder. 

“Jisung, wait—”

“Let go of me,” he hissed. Minho winced and reluctantly dropped his hand back to his side. 

“Fine, just—don’t leave, okay? Let me—”

“Let you what? Let you keep toying around with me? You invited me over because you just wanted to sleep with me, right? And then what, huh? You’d just push me away after you got what you wanted and ignore me again?”

He was starting to get pissed, and Minho’s intense stare, the one he was used to, was back on his face. 

“No, I would never do that to you.” 

That made Jisung scoff.

“I saw what you texted Felix. You said you were going to fuck me on his bed, remember that?” 

Minho's face dropped. 

“Jisung I didn’t—I was just fucking around, I didn’t mean—”

“And you’re such a liar, because after what we did you ignored me for days!” He was screaming, and Minho looked like he was getting irritated. 

“Jisung, I told you I wasn’t fucking ignoring you, I—”

“Whatever. Like I said, I’m done with whatever this bullshit is.” 

Jisung needed to leave before the tears started rolling down his cheeks. His heart was hurting, and he was so frustrated he had no idea how to handle it. He hadn’t been this hurt since Seungmin had broken up with him.

He tried to head for the door again, but he couldn’t get far because Minho had grabbed him by both of his wrists. He tugged him in, and their faces were so close that it made his breath hitch.

“You are so fucking snippy, just listen for a damn minute.” 

Minho’s eyes were intense, and Jisung suddenly felt small under his gaze. 

“Look, I want you. I want you so fucking bad, but I can’t. I have to focus on baseball, Jisung,” he explained, but that just made him even more pissed. 

“And it took you this long to tell me that?” 

He was furious. He couldn’t believe him. 

“I was trying to stay away from you—and if you remember, I told you to stay away from me, but you don’t listen very well.” 

He couldn’t hold back his anger anymore, even if he wasn’t really trying to in the first place.

“You—You kissed me first! You started this, and now you’re saying you don’t have time for me? You sure as hell had the time to fuck with me for the last few weeks! ” 

Minho flinched, hearing him practically screaming.

“I wasn’t trying to fuck with you, I—”

“Then why? Did you get bored of me already? I won’t be your fuck buddy so you’re done with me?” 

He wanted it to sound snippy, but he must have been so upset because instead his voice cracked, and his lower lip wobbled. 

His insecurities were tearing at him, and he hadn’t even realized it, but everyone kept leaving him. He wasn’t worth it. 

He didn’t try to back away when Minho reached out to take his face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs across his angry and flustered cheeks. 

“Stop. That isn’t true.” 

His kind and gentle voice made his heart sting even more. He pressed their foreheads together, and Jisung couldn’t stop himself from leaning into it. 

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he groaned, and Jisung shivered as his breath fanned out over his face. “Saying you like me and looking at me like that, but Jisung, I can’t… I just can’t.” 

Minho pulled back, and his eyes traveled from his eyes to his lips multiple times. Jisung’s heart was breaking, and he needed to get out of there. 

“Fine. Whatever.” 

He wanted to sound like he didn’t care, but he absolutely did. Jisung tried to pull away, but Minho wouldn’t let him go. 

“I’m sorry,” Minho whispered, and Jisung averted his gaze. He wasn’t sure why that officially broke him, but it made a few tears escape his eyes and trickle down his cheeks. 

He realized that hate wasn’t hate at all anymore. He liked him—and he liked him so much that he didn’t want to let go. But Minho was pushing him away, and he couldn’t stand it. 

Minho’s eyes went wide as Jisung tried to hide his face. He couldn’t believe he was fucking crying—again, over some stupid guy that didn’t want him.  

“Shit. Baby, don’t...” 

That made it even worse. 

He tried to push him off, but it was a weak attempt and Minho refused to let go. A little choked sob left his lips, and he felt Minho flinch. 

“Oh, fucking fuck it.” 

Jisung whined when he slammed their lips together. A few more tears slipped past his eyes when he reflexively threw his arms around him, pulling him closer. 

Minho backed him up and before he could stop himself, he was falling against his bed. Their lips never disconnected, as Minho followed right after him, gripping his chin so he could keep their mouths pressed together. 

He groaned with a displeased whine when Minho pulled back to press a kiss to his nose. 

“No matter what I do, I can’t get you out of my head. I have liked you since the first day I saw you,” he blurted out. Jisung completely froze, seeing Minho’s blush on his cheeks. 

“You–what?” 

Minho looked embarrassed that he had admitted that, but he must have been desperate, trying to get him to calm down. He brushed a hand over his tear stained cheek. 

“Remember our first day of practice, and how I was giving Felix shit?” he asked, and Jisung nodded slowly. He remembered it well, actually. He had yelled at him, made him feel like shit, and that was the reason why he hated Minho in the first place.

“You were on the baseline near the bleachers with him, and when I saw you, I thought you were so fucking pretty. I was acting like a dick because I thought—I thought you two were together and it pissed me off, and I— fuck, this is so pathetic, what am I even saying right now?” 

He dropped his head, so his damp bangs were hiding his eyes. He couldn’t believe he had just admitted to being an asshole that day because he was jealous. His heart was thumping loud, seeing Minho so shy. Jisung could get used to that pretty blush on his cheeks though. He bit his bottom lip, trying to hide his smile a little. 

“That is really pathetic,” he teased, making Minho flinch a bit. When he looked up though, he had a smirk on his face. He quickly gripped Jisung’s wrists and pinned them above his head, making him gasp a little. 

“Yeah, well, I noticed you staring at me the whole fucking time, so it riled me up even more. I thought, damn, he has a boyfriend, but he can’t take his eyes off me. So whose fault is it really?” 

Jisung blushed but scoffed.

“Will you ever get over yourself?” 

He rolled his eyes, trying to break from his grasp, but once again he had him restrained. 

Minho was right though, he was staring at him that day. He couldn’t help it. He was so incredibly mesmerizing on the mound, and absolutely breathtaking. He may have fallen for him that day too. 

“Maybe, but you gotta quit lookin’ at me like that first.” 

“Like what?” he challenged, and that made Minho grip his chin.

“Like you want me.” 

Jisung burned bright red, and Minho’s face was so close that all he had to do was press forward just a tiny bit, and their lips would be connected again. His mind was threatening to go completely blank, filled with nothing else but the taste of Minho’s lips on his. He was about to kiss him, but before he could, Minho pulled back, looking at him with that uncertain expression again. 

“Shit, what are you doing to me?” he told him, finally letting go of his arms. His defeated tone stabbed right through to his heart.

That anger filled him again, as he continued to let him toy with him. He had managed to emotionally push and pull him around in just a matter of minutes. It was driving him insane. 

He sighed, knowing that Minho was battling himself inside his mind. He could see it on his face, like he was trying to decide what to do. 

If he should kiss him, or let him leave. 

And Jisung knew what he was about to choose, as he started to get off the bed. 

Jisung immediately grabbed him back, making Minho let out a sharp breath as he gripped his neck. 

“What if I said that…I do want you—that I like you, and I want—to be with you, and if you like me too then…”

He trailed off, feeling embarrassed as Minho stared down at him. He could see him swallow, as his eyes were stuck on his. 

“Say it again,” he demanded, and Jisung’s heart slammed into his throat. He shivered, and his blind obedience was back. 

“I—I want you, Minho.” 

He blushed deeply, because that was so embarrassing to admit out loud again. But it was so fucking worth it, because Minho’s mouth was back on his, slamming their lips so hard together that their teeth almost collided. 

Jisung’s hands grasped the hair on the back of Minho's head, entwining his fingers in the strands. He was shaking as Minho’s hands encased his head, clenching hard at the bedsheets. 

Once again, Jisung couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care because he didn’t need air, he just needed Minho. His lips were kissed until they were puffy and red, and also until Minho decided he needed his mouth elsewhere on his body. He trailed kisses to his neck, and Jisung whimpered when he bit gently at his earlobe. 

“If I ask you to go out with me, can I mark you up a little?” 

The tingling inside Jisung’s stomach was making it hard to focus. The only thing he could do was nod, and that made Minho smirk. 

“Then do you want to go out with me?” 

Jisung felt his heart explode, grabbing onto Minho tightly. 

“Yes, I— ah—!” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Minho sucked harshly at the spot that had just healed on his neck. Jisung’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, gripping Minho harshly as he licked his tongue over it. 

“There, it was almost gone, but I fixed it.” 

Jisung wanted to punch him. 

“I—I hate you,” he grumbled, and that made Minho chuckle. 

“No you don’t.” Minho whispered into his ear, and Jisung shuddered. His lips were back on his then, and Jisung could feel his mind becoming fuzzy. Minho's taste was intoxicating to him. He tangled their tongues together, and he could feel the possessiveness, like he was trying to claim every inch of his mouth. 

He whined as Minho trailed his hands up his shirt, tickling his skin with his fingertips. His body jolted when he pinched at his nipple, pressing his thumb over the bud until it was tingling from his warm touch. He forced his shirt off, sending a chill up his spine as his skin met the cool air. 

He was still drunk from his kiss, feeling lightheaded when he pulled back. Minho chuckled at his fucked out expression, which was embarrassing since the only thing he had done was kiss him. 

“God, look at you.” Minho breathed out, pressing his thumb into his open mouth and petting at his tongue. Jisung wanted to close his lips around it, but Minho pressed down on his lower teeth, causing his jaw to hinge wide. 

“Jisung, if you want me to stop, then I need you to say, stop. Do you understand?”

Jisung nodded, blinking up at him. 

“Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, I understand.” 

Minho smiled at him, and Jisung felt his heart flutter.

“I’m gonna put my fingers in your mouth. You’re going to get them nice and wet for me, okay?” 

Jisung blushed since he had nodded immediately. Minho looked pleased, taking two of his fingers and pressing them past his lips. 

“Suck,” he demanded, and Jisung did as he was told. He felt that sensation swirling in his lower stomach, shivering as Minho pushed his fingers in deep. Jisung choked a little bit, not expecting it, but he took it the best he could. They weren’t as big as his cock, so he could handle it. 

His tongue snaked around his fingers, lathering them the best he could, and he whined a little as Minho shoved a third finger in. 

Jisung could feel his sweatpants getting tugged down his thighs then, his cheeks heating as his cock slapped against his stomach, hard and leaking already. He tried to hide himself, but Minho’s free hand slapped them away. 

“You’re that turned on just from a few fingers in your mouth, huh, sweetheart?” 

He clenched his eyes shut, and he wished Minho wasn’t staring at him. He twitched as his finger teased the slit where he was dripping pathetically. 

He retracted his fingers, and Jisung couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving his lips. His spit covered his chin, and he knew he looked ridiculous. 

Minho inspected his fingers, seeming happy with Jisung’s work, and he burned seeing him play with it a little, rubbing it around to spread out his saliva. 

“Open your legs for me,” he told him, and Jisung’s nerves were suddenly making an appearance in his mind and chest. His quaking knees slowly parted, and Minho just sat there, watching as he apparently didn’t open them wide enough. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, and Jisung flushed from his bluntness. Minho was waiting for an answer, but his words were stuck in his chest.

“Jisung,” he said, his voice firm, “I asked you a question.” 

He was trying to catch his breath, so speaking was impossible. He nodded multiple times, but Minho shook his head. 

“Talk,” he demanded, and Jisung clenched the bedsheets in his hands. 

“Y—Yes…”

“Yes what?” 

Of course that wasn’t good enough for him. Jisung whined in embarrassment, but spoke anyway. 

“I—I want you to fuck me.”

“Then open your legs like I told you to.” 

Jisung’s body jolted at that tone—demanding and firm. If there was one thing he knew about Minho, it was that he liked things to be precise and clear. If he thought that Jisung didn’t want it, even just a little, he knew he would stop. 

But he absolutely did want it. It was almost embarrassing, how bad he wanted it. So he listened, and opened his legs so wide that his knees hit the sheets.

“Good boy.” 

His vision almost blacked out at his sweet tone. He involuntarily let out a tiny moan, blushing when he heard it fall from his lips. 

“You like being praised, don’t you baby?” he asked, and Jisung had to bite his tongue. He didn’t know how to answer that.

“I—I don’t…know.” 

Sex for him was usually quiet and gentle. It was soft and kind. Seungmin would never talk to him the way Minho had been. 

“No one has ever told you how good you are? How pretty you look, all spread open?” 

Jisung gasped, feeling Minho tickle his fingers at his rim, lathering him with the spit he suckled onto them. His breathing was choppy, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He was nervous, but excited, wanting Minho to touch him desperately. His words were driving him crazy though, making his chest flush as they embarrassed him. 

“D—Don’t say—shit like that…” he said through clenched teeth. 

“Ah, I see that snippy attitude is back, and here I thought you were being good.” He smirked, and Jisung whined loudly as Minho slipped a finger inside him. 

The immediate stretch had him grabbing at Minho’s thigh, clawing at his skin. He continued to fuck his finger into his body, not even flinching as Jisung scraped his nails so hard that he was leaving marks. 

Minho was slow, and being as gentle as possible. It took him a few minutes to get used to the feeling. It had been a while since he had been with someone. Minho had his finger easily pumping in and out of him, at a leisurely pace. Jisung whimpered every time he would just miss that perfect spot inside him, that would have him arching his back for more. 

He went to wrap a hand around himself, and he whined when Minho slapped it away. 

“Nope, you don’t get to touch.” 

Jisung burned, hearing his teasing tone. He grabbed Minho’s wrist instead, digging his nails into his skin. 

“M—Minho—come on,” he groaned, and that made Minho’s finger stop inside him. 

“Are you complaining?” he asked, and Jisung wasn’t sure what that look on his face was. 

“No, but I need—”

“It sounds like you’re complaining.” 

Jisung whimpered when Minho slipped his finger out of his body, causing a shiver to ripple up his spine. 

“I’m not .” he snapped, and he gasped when Minho grabbed his leg and pushed him over. He gripped an arm around his waist, forcing him up and onto all fours. 

“Keep your face down,” he told him, and Jisung’s entire body shook hearing that dark tone. He rested his cheek onto the mattress, and he felt embarrassed with his ass on display in the air. He flinched when he felt Minho caress his skin, running his fingers in between his cheeks to tap at his spit slicked rim. 

It had to have been at least five minutes until Jisung tried to look behind him to see what Minho was doing. When he went to move, a hand came down to grip into his hair, forcing him still. 

“Didn’t I say to keep your face down? You don’t listen, Jisung.” 

“But—you’re not doing anything!” he whined, and Minho shrugged. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been complaining.” 

“I wasn’t—”

“Stop arguing,” his bold tone made him let out a tiny whine. “Show me you can listen.” 

Jisung’s body felt like it was on fire. He was blushing so deeply that he thought his skin might dye permanently red. 

He bit his tongue, keeping his mouth shut and trying not to argue further. Minho kept touching his skin every now and again—his thighs, his legs, his feet. Every touch made him jump, and it went on for about ten minutes. 

He almost let out a scream when a finger was being pressed back into his body, causing him to clench at the sheets. 

“Are you going to be good this time? No complaining?” Minho asked, and Jisung couldn’t believe him. “Tell me.” 

He also couldn’t believe himself. 

“I’ll—I’ll be good,” he murmured into the mattress. 

He moaned when Minho pressed in a second finger, holding him by the hip and shoving in deep. He hit that spot he had been dying for him to touch, and if Minho wasn’t holding him up, he would have collapsed. 

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” he asked, and Jisung whined with a nod of his head. 

Minho kissed his cheek, fucking his fingers in deeper as he spread them to open him up. 

“I want you to tell me it feels good, come on.” He crooked his fingers, and Jisung’s eyes went wide. His cock pulsed between his legs, and he swore he almost just came. His legs were shaking, and his voice wavered when he spoke. 

“It—It feels good. It feels so good.” He cried as Minho continued to assault that bundle of nerves inside of him. He teased him, as he tickled his finger up and down his aching cock, begging to be touched, but never fully grasped. 

Jisung shuddered when he felt a third finger poking inside him. It was a struggle, but Minho was gentle with him, stretching him little by little until he was pounding three fingers into him easily. 

Jisung was panting, and he could feel Minho littering tiny little mouth sized bruises all over his hips and ass. 

He thought if he didn’t say anything, that Minho would just finger him all night, so he chanced opening his mouth to speak—but he knew how to properly ask for it this time. 

“Minho—I need it, p-please?” 

Minho chuckled, pressing his fingers as deep as they could go. Jisung let out a choked whine, feeling him tease his fingers inside him. 

“What’s up, sweetheart? What do you want?” 

Jisung felt his skin tingle, feeling his breath fan across his skin as he pressed kisses to his spine. 

“I want you, please.” 

He whined a little when Minho slipped his fingers out of his body. 

“Be specific, tell me exactly what you want.”

Jisung thought he was going to die from embarrassment, but he blurted it out anyway. 

“I—I want you to fuck me, please, Minho.” 

Jisung thought Minho was going to fuck him in the position he was in. With his face down, and his ass up. He wouldn’t have minded it, since Seungmin only ever liked to fuck him missionary. He wanted to try it this way. 

He was surprised when he was being tugged up again, with hands guiding him around the waist. Minho took his spot quickly, but a little higher up on the bed so he could rest his back on the headboard. He pulled his legs up and over his thighs. 

Jisung had his hands on his shoulders as Minho reached into the drawer next to him, pulling out a condom. He handed it to him, and Jisung flushed. 

“Here, put it on me,” he told him and Jisung spluttered a little bit. 

“I—I’ve never…”

“You’ve never put on a condom before?” Minho asked with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you had an ex-boyfriend?” 

“I never—he would always put it on…” he trailed off, feeling embarrassed. Minho grabbed his wrist then, tugging him in. 

“Well, I want to see you put it on me.” He smirked at him, and Jisung flushed again. He quickly tore it out of the wrapper, and grabbed him in his hand. Once again, he was mesmerized at how big he was. He slid it down, and Minho was watching his every move. He bit his lip when Minho brushed his hair behind his ear. 

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard, yeah?” 

Jisung tried not to scowl, but he couldn’t help it. He smirked at him, grabbing his ass with both hands now. He pulled him in until he could press his lips against his in a deep kiss. 

“I want you to ride me.” 

Jisung’s eyes went wide. 

“But, I—”

“Are you arguing with me?” He gave him a warning glance, and Jisung swallowed hard. 

“No, Minho, I’m not, I just—I’ve never…done that before,” he admitted shyly, and that made Minho twitch. 

“You never rode his cock before?” He glared a bit when he said it, and Jisung flitted his eyes away.

“No…we only…did missionary,” he told him, and that made Minho grip his ass harder. 

“Interesting.” 

Jisung could feel him pressed against his ass, hard and warm. He shivered a little. 

“We never…talked much either…you know, during.” 

He wasn’t sure why he was letting it all out, but he thought maybe he should tell him that his sex life with Seungmin hadn’t explored this territory. 

He gasped when Minho lifted him, and panicked a little when he felt his cock at his entrance. 

“I want to see you fuck yourself on it,” Minho told him, and Jisung’s heart was racing. He just nodded, and decided that he could trust him. He had never done it before, but he wanted to try. 

He had him in his arms, helping him sink down onto it. He yelped a little, not used to feeling it that way. He stretched him wide, and Jisung also momentarily forgot that Seungmin was significantly smaller than Minho. 

“Good, there you go.” Minho encouraged him, helping him sit all the way down until his cock was buried inside him. He almost felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he felt so full that he wasn’t even sure if he could move. 

“Fuck, Jisung, you’re so tight,” Minho groaned, his hands still gripping his ass so hard that little finger-shaped bruises would definitely be on his skin tomorrow. 

Minho let him get used to it, leaning his head on his shoulder until he could finally stand the stretch. He was big. He was so big. He swore he could feel it in his stomach. 

Minho released his hands and pushed Jisung back a little so he had to grab onto his knees behind him. He moaned as his cock moved around, stabbing at that spot deep inside him. 

“There, perfect. Now let me watch that pretty face of yours while you bounce on it.” 

Jisung had never had sex like this before. Sex that made his heart race. Sex that made his stomach swirl with pleasure. Sex that turned him on so much he never wanted it to end. 

He wanted to please him. He wanted him to call him beautiful again. He wanted him to say he was good. 

So, he raised himself up and eased himself back down, his breath hitching and his fingernails digging into Minho's knees. 

“Good boy, riding cock for the first time. My cock, how lucky am I?” 

His words were going to make him pass out. That, or from him reaching so deep inside him which had him seeing stars. He was a whimpering mess, and he had no idea how good it would feel being in control. Minho let him move how he wanted, he let him set the pace and he moaned loudly when Minho brushed his fingertips over the head of his cock. 

“That boyfriend of yours didn’t know how to fuck you properly, did he?” he asked then, and Jisung winced at his irritated tone. 

“Ah— ah— I don’t—know—”

“I bet he never told you how fucking pretty you are when you’re feeling good. You’re so beautiful, fucking yourself on my cock sweetheart, you deserve to hear it.” 

Jisung was whirling, he whimpered so loud that it was embarrassing. Minho was right. Seungmin was kind, but he would never say that. Not when they were having sex. 

“He didn’t know that you like being praised, did he? I knew it from the moment you looked at me, you were just dying for me to tell you how fucking good you are as I fucked you.” 

“M—Minho—ah…”

“Yeah, baby, that feels good right? You’re so fucking good for me. I knew you would be.” 

He fucked himself down harder and faster. His mind was gone, and he felt so good with Minho’s words, telling him how good he was. He did like it. He liked it a lot— and he was just realizing that. 

His body was on fire and his legs were burning, but he didn’t want to stop. He was close. He hadn’t even touched him and he was so close. 

“I like—I like it—” he whimpered, begging for more. 

“I know, baby. I know you do.”

Jisung almost fell, his hand slipping a little, due to being a little expended. Minho caught him instantly, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him in. Jisung’s cheek fell against his shoulder. He was breathing heavily, he was sweaty, and exhausted from the workout. 

“Here, sweetheart, you did good, so let me fuck you now.” 

He moved him, laying him on his back and leaving the headboard. The blankets felt soft against his skin, and Minho was still so deep that he could barely think. 

Minho pulled out and fucked back in, making Jisung flail a little. Missionary had never felt like that. He felt tears press at his eyes, sliding down his cheeks. 

“You want to know what I like?” he whispered to him, and Jisung could barely catch his breath. “I like that little snippy attitude of yours, because it turns me on putting you in your place, making you a compliant, crying fucking mess for me.”

Jisung let out a choked sound as more tears squeezed from his eyes. 

“Fuck, Jisung. Look at you, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I shouldn’t— fuck— because how the hell can I ever get you out of my head now?” 

Jisung felt his heart fluttering so much he thought it was about to come out his mouth. Minho was fucking him hard, and he could barely think, but he needed to respond. 

“You—You’re in—my head too. I can’t— ah— stop thinking—about you.” 

That made Minho snap. He grabbed his chin and pressed their foreheads together as he grinded deep inside him. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, saying something like that.” 

Jisung’s lidded eyes connected with his, his cheeks burning red, but he wanted to tease him too. 

“And—you’re right, he never—fucked me this good.” 

Minho’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Jisung would have smirked if he didn’t slam his hips so hard against his that he flew up the bed a little. 

He also pressed so deep, and Jisung felt a sensation he never felt before. Minho kept hitting it, over and over, and Jisung’s hands came up to grab at his arms. 

“W—Wait—it feels— ah—!”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as he was cumming untouched all over his stomach. He twitched, and his insides singed with the fire that was engulfing him. He shook as Minho pulled back, fucking him deeper. 

“Shit, holy shit. Did that feel good, pretty boy?” 

Jisung couldn’t speak. His words were trapped inside him as he tried to focus on Minho’s voice and the feeling his entire body was encased in. 

Pretty boy.

His body was sensitive. He had never felt so overstimulated before. He was whacking at Minho’s thigh, since his throat was closed up. Minho grabbed his wrist, intertwining their fingers, and pinning his hand above his head. 

“I’m cumming baby, I promise. I’m so close.”

Jisung whimpered, crushing his hand in his, desperately needing him to finish. 

Minho pressed their forehead together again as he made one final deep thrust inside him, grunting a little and biting his tongue. 

“Fuck…” 

They were both breathing heavily, and Jisung was starting to get uncomfortable, feeling how deep he was. He whined a little, and as soon as Minho registered that he was trying to push him away, he immediately pulled out. Jisung let out a puff of breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

He sat there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. He was coming down from that beautiful high, finally catching his breath. 

It was quiet between them again, just like it had been the two other times. He could feel him getting off the bed, and he could hear him drop the condom into the trash bin by the side of it.

“Hey, are you okay?” 

Minho asked then, and Jisung didn’t miss that anxiety in his tone. The bed dipped as he sat on it, brushing a soft hand over Jisung’s wet cheek. He had also grabbed a towel without him noticing, because he was cleaning the mess off his stomach. 

“I’m—I’m fine,” he mumbled, embarrassed. 

He had just had the best sex of his life. He should have been on cloud nine, but right now he couldn’t stop thinking about whether Minho meant what he said or not. He had asked him out, but it was definitely in the heat of the moment. 

Minho threw the towel into his dirty clothes basket, and Jisung felt his nerves spiking. They eased a little bit when Minho reached out to bring his face close to his, landing a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“You can stay the night if you want.” 

Jisung’s heart flipped in his chest, seeing Minho’s soft eyes. 

“Y-Yeah, okay.” He nodded, and Minho gave him a sweet smile. 

Minho pressed their lips together again, and Jisung would’ve kissed him deeper and longer if he wasn’t completely naked and embarrassed by it. 

“Can you…grab my bag? I just want to put my hoodie on.” He blushed, and Minho pulled back. 

“Yeah, I can get it.” 

He liked the way he pressed a kiss to his forehead before hopping off the bed. He really liked sweet and gentle Minho. 

He put a pair of sweats on before grabbing Jisung’s bag from Felix’s bed. He heard a small chuckle, and Jisung’s head turned to see him holding the book he annotated for him in his hand. He walked over to him, tapping him on the head with it. Jisung blushed, because he was still naked. 

“You know, I haven’t seen you read a different book since I’ve given you this one,” he mentioned, and that made Jisung grab his sweater and the book from his hands. 

“I just—I haven’t finished it yet,” he lied. He had read it four times, but he wasn’t going to admit that. 

“You usually have a different book in your hand every other day. Is it taking you longer to read because you don’t like it?” he asked, sounding insecure. Jisung didn’t like that face he was giving him either—pouty and hurt. 

“No that’s—not it. I—I like it a lot…and okay, maybe I lied. I’ve read it…like four times now.” 

That made a giant smirk blow across his lips. 

“So you like it that much, huh?” He helped Jisung throw his sweater over his head. His cheeks were red as Minho brushed his hair with his fingers, trying to tame the wildness of it. 

“I like annotated books…a lot.” 

Minho pressed another kiss to his lips. 

“I know you do, baby.”

Jisung’s heart wasn’t strong enough for Minho’s words. He cleared his throat, clutching the book to his chest. 

“So…are we…you know, together now?” he asked shyly, and Minho let out a little sigh. 

“Yeah…” Jisung winced at his tone, like he didn’t want to agree. 

“What the fuck was that response?” he snapped, and Minho flinched at his sudden attitude. 

“Jisung come on, don’t get snippy with me,” he said, reaching out for him. Jisung dodged his hand, and Minho took a deep breath. 

“We can be together, I just—Jisung, you need to understand that if I don’t get a major league offer this year, my dad is going to…” he trailed off, and Jisung blinked back at him. 

“Your dad?” he asked, and even just saying those two words made Minho flinch. 

“My dad’s dream is for me to be a pitcher in the major leagues. Baseball has been my entire life, for as long as I can remember. It’s the reason why I came to this school. I can’t—I can’t afford to get distracted right now.” 

Jisung’s heart ached at Minho’s distraught face. 

“I don’t want to hurt you—if I can’t put you first…it’s not fair to you,” he explained, his gaze falling to the bed between them. 

Jisung’s heart twisted in his chest. 

He wasn’t an asshole at all. 

Jisung grabbed his hand and rubbed his fingers over his knuckles softly. He noticed they had little cuts on them, rough from nonstop practice. 

“Look, I get it. We can…set boundaries if we need to. I won’t bother you during practice and if you have a game coming up and can’t see me, then I’ll understand.” 

That made Minho sigh even deeper. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I just—don’t want you to get mad at me or upset or something…I know I can be kind of a dick sometimes when I’m stressed, so…” 

He definitely still looked like he was trying to convince himself that it was a good idea and not a terrible one.  

“I won’t. Promise.” 

He reached out his pinky, and Minho chuckled. He intertwined their fingers, pulling him in to kiss him on the lips softly. 

“You’re so fucking cute, especially in your oversized hoodie with your little ass out.” 

Jisung burned, slapping him on the arm. 

“Shut up and give me my pants.”

Minho reached down for them, and Jisung snatched them out of his hands. Before he could put them on though, Minho grabbed him by the waist, pulling him in and spooning him from behind.

“Don’t put them on, your ass is so pretty.” he teased, trailing his fingers over his marked up skin. He knew Minho left tons of them, but he was too embarrassed to even want to look. 

He flushed, letting his sweatpants drop back to the ground. 

Minho nuzzled his face into his neck, and Jisung chuckled a little as it tickled his skin. 

“Hi,” Minho whispered into his ear, and that made Jisung turn around in his arms. 

“Hi hi,” he smiled, and Minho pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“I have a game this weekend,” he mentioned, and Jisung nodded. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Are you coming?” he asked. Normally, his response was snippy, but this time he shrugged. 

“Do you want me to?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“I thought I was distracting?” he pouted, and that made Minho smirk. 

“You were, but now when you’re staring at me, I know I can fuck you after, so it’s—”

He smacked him in the chest this time. 

“You’re an asshole.” 

Minho laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“You still like me though, right?” 

Jisung’s eyes traveled from his tender gaze, to his soft lips, definitely losing all sense of his sanity. 

“Yeah, I like you.” 

Jisung couldn’t tell you how long they kissed for, but Minho was really good at it. It was soft, gentle, and he guided him, kissing him deep enough where it wasn’t arousing, but sweet. No one had ever kissed him like that before. 

He fell asleep at some point, with Minho’s lips pressed against skin, his arms wrapped around his waist, and their legs tangled. 

There was a loud bang, and some rustling as his eyes fluttered open. He was warm, and his head was pressed to Minho’s bare chest. His arm was still wrapped around him, his hand resting on his bare ass. 

“What. The. Fuck.” 

Jisung jumped, his head hitting Minho in the chin and making him groan as he heard Felix’s voice boom throughout the room. He sat up, and he knew his hair was wild, and his eyes were wide. 

“Felix, I can—”

He went to get up, but he forgot he never put his pants back on. He flushed, deciding it was better not to get up. Felix clearly saw he was naked from the waist down, because his jaw dropped and his eyes went straight to Minho. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” 

Jisung winced. He never heard Felix that angry before. That was a tone he was unfamiliar with. 

Minho was clearly still a little delirious, waking up so suddenly. He rubbed his eye, and saw Jisung trying to cover himself. He quickly grabbed the blanket from the floor and covered him with it, and Jisung would have thanked him if Felix hadn't grabbed Minho by the shoulder to pull him out of his bed and slam him into the dresser. 

Jisung’s own jaw dropped open, seeing Felix seething. 

“You’re a fucking pathetic scumbag . Give me one reason why I shouldn’t punch you right in your fucking face.” 

Jisung winced seeing Minho shrug nonchalantly. 

“We have a game this weekend. Don’t want to break your hand.” 

That made Felix clench his hand into a tight fist. 

“Felix stop, I can explain, okay? Just—”

“Explain? How do you explain this? I knew you were acting weird lately. Seungmin broke up with you, so now you’re sleeping around with guys who don’t respect you at all? ” 

Jisung’s heart snapped. 

“Hey, watch your fucking mouth,” Minho hissed, pushing Felix back now. 

“Touch me again, and I swear to god, I’ll break your hand,” he warned, and Jisung could see Minho’s wild eyes. 

“You’re not gonna say shit like that to him in front of me, I don’t give a fuck if you’re his brother or not.” 

Felix clenched his jaw, and he looked between them, multiple times before he let out a disappointed scoff. 

“You’ve been lying to me. This whole time. I can’t believe you. I can’t even—I don’t want to even look at you right now.” 

Felix’s expression changed then, and Jisung felt his world shatter when he grabbed his bag from the ground and stormed out of the room. 

He had never looked at him that way before. 

They had never even fought before. 

Not like this. 

Jisung felt his eyes well up with tears. He swallowed them down, but his throat was on fire, from heartache and guilt. 

“Shit.” Minho breathed out, seeing Jisung trembling on his bed. He instantly made his way over, brushing a hand over his cheek. 

“I’ll talk to him. This is my fault. He’s mad at me, not you. I pissed him off yesterday, and—”

“It’s okay. It is my fault,” he told him, giving him a tight smile.

“Jisung, baby.” 

A few tears had escaped, but he couldn’t help it. He had never had Felix look at him like that—so incredibly disappointed and let down. 

“We’ve never had a fight like this before though,” he admitted, and Minho ran his fingers through his messy hair. 

“I’m sorry, this is seriously my fault.” Minho apologized again, and Jisung wouldn’t lie that it was kind of sweet, the way he was trying to take the blame. 

“Can you just hand me my pants?” He smiled at him, rubbing away the tears on his face. Minho frowned but nodded his head. 

He grabbed them from the floor, and Jisung was actually able to put them on this time. He sighed and looked at the clock—it was already past nine. 

He wasn’t going to have time to take a shower before classes. He hopped off the bed and started packing away his bag, knowing he was going to have to stop back at his dorm. Hopefully Felix wasn’t there and had already headed to campus. He definitely needed a bit of a cool down at the moment. 

“You have free time at noon, right?” Minho asked.

“You should know, you’ve been following me around for weeks.” He shrugged with a bratty smile, trying to lighten the mood a little. Minho smirked with a tiny chuckle. 

“Quit being snippy.”

“I thought you liked it when I was snippy?” 

Minho grabbed him by the waist and tugged him in, slamming their lips together. Jisung groaned, because he knew he was gross, not having brushed his teeth yet. 

“Yeah, you’re right, and the snippier you are, the more it makes me wanna hold you down and force you to be good for me.” 

Jisung smacked him in the chest three times until Minho caught his wrist. He chuckled, placing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

“I’ll see you at lunch, sweetheart.” 

Jisung blushed, but agreed to see him later. He sighed, knowing he was about to have a long day ahead of him. 

He reached for his phone when he heard it ring, seeing a text from Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin ♥️♥️♥️

Received: 9:12 A.M.

he left when I was sleeping im so sorry 

he is really upset tho…

Jisung felt his heart break, knowing he hurt Felix badly, and he had no idea how to fix it. 

Chapter Text

It had been a couple of days, and Felix was still ignoring him. Even Hyunjin hadn’t seen him much because he was avoiding their dorm room. He wouldn’t answer any of his texts, and when he tried to approach him after practice, he stormed off before he could say anything. He wouldn’t listen to Hyunjin either, telling him that he didn’t want to talk about it, so trying to go through him was pointless. 

He was absolutely pissed at him. 

He sighed as he sat under the oak tree, reading the book Minho had given him. He was on his sixth read. He couldn’t stop finding joy in discovering something with every skim through. Whether it be a new line that he fell in love with, or rereading Minho’s words that would make his heart race again and again. He started adding little notes of his own, and writing his own thoughts next to his. 

He had class soon, and he probably should have been studying for the quiz he had later, but he couldn’t bring himself to put his book down. He was trying to distract himself from his heart. 

He was definitely feeling hurt. He knew that was selfish though, since he was the one that had lied. He thought he would come around after a bit, but it had been two days since he had seen or even talked to him. 

“Jisung?” 

He looked up, surprised to see Jeongin leaning over him, trying to catch his gaze. He had been momentarily distracted in his mind, and he might have even called his name more than once considering the small amount of concern on his face. 

He had that big kind smile on his lips, with his bag slipping off his shoulder a little from leaning over too far. 

“Oh, hey Jeongin. What’s up?”

They hadn’t talked since they had gotten coffee together a few weeks ago—that day he completely rejected him. He thought their next interaction might have been awkward, but he was smiling so sweetly at him that he almost forgot about the whole ordeal. 

“Not much, I just saw you sitting by yourself over here, and I thought I’d say hi.” 

He really was such a nice guy. Jisung carefully closed his book, and gestured for him to sit down. 

“Want to sit?” he asked, and Jeongin placed himself across from him, settling into the grass. It was warmer than it had been recently, so there were tons of people in the courtyard and the tables were filled. Luckily, no one had snagged his favorite spot under the oak tree. 

“Thanks.” His eyes crinkled, and Jisung was thankful that he had stopped by because that smile was contagious. It was doing wonders, giving him someone to talk to and distracting him from the pit of sadness in his heart. 

“How are classes going?” Jisung asked, mirroring that grin of his. 

“Pretty good, Hyunjin and I have an art show this weekend, so we’ve been kind of busy preparing for it.”

“Oh, yeah. He has been talking about that all week. It’s on Saturday, right?” 

Jeongin nodded. He reached into his bag, took out a flyer, and handed it to him. 

“I’m sure Hyunjin invited you, but here, you should—you should come.” He blushed a little, and Jisung could easily see it on his cheeks. That made him flush himself. 

Before he could respond, the piece of paper was being tugged from his grasp. He looked up to see Minho, with his sports bag over his shoulder, his mitt tucked underneath his arm and his hat turned backwards on his head. He had come out of nowhere. He was going to yell at him for taking the flyer from him, but his eyes immediately scanned his body up and down. He had a red hoodie on with black sweatpants, and Jisung absolutely loved his comfortable style—even though he loved every look on him. 

He was distracted. He looked so good that he almost forgot Jeongin was there, and that Minho just rudely ripped the flyer out of his hands. 

“An art show, huh?” Minho questioned, reading the words on the page in front of him. “Sounds kind of lame.” 

Jisung glared at him, as he saw Jeongin’s smile falter. 

“Minho,” he chided. He smirked as he caught Jisung’s unhappy gaze. 

Minho dropped down then, right in front of Jisung’s face. Before he could scold him for being rude and interrupting their conversation, Minho grabbed him by the back of the head and pressed their lips together in a deep kiss. 

His heart exploded in his chest, and his eyes lidded as Minho slotted their mouths together. 

Jisung had to reach out and grip at the collar of his hoodie to keep himself steady. He wanted to push him back when he felt him trying to slip his tongue into his mouth. Jeongin was right there, watching them, but he couldn’t find the strength to pull away. 

When Minho finally disconnected their lips, Jisung was a little breathless, and his smug smile widened.

“Hey baby,” he greeted, brushing his thumb over his now burning cheek. 

Jisung’s words were stuck in his throat, just like always whenever Minho looked at him or spoke to him like that. 

Minho’s gentle gaze instantly changed, as his eyes slid over to Jeongin who was now awkwardly sitting there. 

“Sorry—completely forgot your name. Who are you again?” he asked, eyeing him up and down. He definitely sounded like he couldn’t care less what his name was. 

Jeongin looked between them, seeing Jisung’s blushed cheeks with Minho’s hand on his face, and his intense glare. 

“Jeongin. It’s nice to see you again.” His voice was kind, and Jisung had to look away when he caught his knowing eye.

“Right.” 

Minho wrapped his arm around his waist, tugging him close into his side. If he weren’t completely captivated by him and his touch, he would have told him off for being so rude and unnecessarily clingy, but he couldn’t shake himself from the trance he had put him in. 

“Well, if you two would like to come to the show, we’d really appreciate the support.” He smiled, and Jisung nodded as he looked right at him. 

“We have a game this weekend, and Jisung usually comes to support me and his brother during practice, so I’m not sure if we’ll make it.” Minho sounded annoyed, but Jeongin’s smile didn’t move this time. 

“So, you two are together now?” Jeongin asked suddenly, with no malice in his tone, but genuine curiosity. 

Jisung flushed a bit as Minho looked over at him, like he was expecting him to answer that question. He cleared his throat as Minho intertwined their fingers. 

“Yeah—Yeah we are,” he answered, feeling shy for some reason. He had claimed there had been nothing going on between them the last time they had talked. He had sworn to him that they hated each other, and that there were no romantic feelings. He felt like such a liar. Again. 

“Well, I’m happy for you guys.” His crinkled eye smile made Jisung grin, and caused Minho to roll his eyes. Jeongin got up then, brushing a few pieces of sticky grass from the back of his pants. 

“I have to get to class, but it was nice seeing you again.” 

“It was nice seeing you too.” Jisung smiled, and Minho scowled a little. As he exited the courtyard, he felt his heart calming. Although, when Minho pressed a kiss to his jaw, trying to grab his attention, he felt his anger spike. 

“What the hell is your problem?” he questioned, pushing him back by the shoulder a bit. 

“What do you mean?” He tried to blink at him innocently.

“You were being so rude and you know it.” He glared at him, but his anger didn’t last long when Minho pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Yeah, fine. I was being a little rude to the guy who is constantly trying to steal you away from me.” He admitted, and Jisung felt his heart skip. 

“W—What? He was just being nice.” 

That made Minho scoff. 

“Just nice? He asked you out on a date,” he argued, and Jisung looked at him like he was crazy. 

“No he didn’t, he just asked me if I wanted to go to his and Hyunjin’s art show. He asked you to come too,” he reminded him, and Minho smirked. 

“You’re so naive, it’s kind of annoying, but cute.” 

Jisung bit his cheek at his words. 

“I’m not naive. You’re just reading way too much into it. He’s just a friend.”

“Guys who ask you out, buy you books and look at you like that—they want a little more than just friendship, sweetheart. You should know that.” He poked his nose, and Jisung flushed. 

“You…You still didn’t have to be so rude,” he mumbled, and Minho shrugged. 

“You went out with him before, so sorry for getting a little pissed off when he was clearly trying to ask you out again.”

Jisung sighed. 

“It was once, and it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah, well, I can tell he wished it did.” 

Jisung rolled his eyes. 

“Well, it didn’t, because you took me home that night and ruined our date, remember?” 

That made Minho smirk.

“You held my hand in front of him, sweetheart. You ruined your own date.” 

Jisung flushed, remembering the soft way he had taken Minho’s hand in his that night, not wanting to let go. Even though he was drunk, he couldn’t get that tingling feeling of their skin touching out of his head.

He had no rebuttal, and he blushed when Minho laced their fingers together again, just like he had that night. 

“Sorry if I was rude, I just wanted to make sure that he knew you were mine.”  

Jisung's heart jumped as Minho gripped his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He slapped his hand away, with another roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t deny that his insides were on fire.

“What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have class?” he asked, changing the subject. 

“I was on my way, but then I saw you in the courtyard with him, so I’m about,” he checked his phone for the time, “twenty minutes late now.”

“Minho…” he mumbled, trying to sound disappointed in him, but for some reason it made his heart stir even more. 

“I have an A in Modern History anyway.” He shrugged as he leaned back on the grass with his hands behind his head. He took his hat off and placed it on the ground next to his mitt. 

“Oh really?” He sounded like he didn’t believe him, knowing that most athletes weren’t exactly great in school— and maybe he was going off a little bit of a stereotype, and maybe his brother’s academics also influenced that response.

“Yeah, really. You think I’m dumb or something?” he asked, but he wasn’t angry, he was smiling. 

“No, I didn’t say you were dumb.” 

“Then why do you think me having an A is so shocking, hm?” He turned on his side to face him as the breeze pushed his hair back. Jisung sat with his knees to his chest, trying not to get mesmerized by those pretty eyes of his. 

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. I just thought…well, Felix is not so good in school, so maybe I was projecting the bad-in-school-but-really-good-athlete thing onto you,” he admitted, and that made Minho sigh. 

“I really like history. Other classes not so much, but…yeah.” He couldn’t decipher his tone as he played with the strands of grass between his fingers. 

Jisung smiled, finally learning something about him. 

“I get that. I love my creative writing and my literature classes, but math is killing me.” He chuckled, and that seemed to bring a smile back to Minho’s face. 

“Have you always liked reading and writing?” Minho questioned, staring up at him with wonder.

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve been reading books since…forever. I was definitely that bookworm nerd, so I was kind of made fun of in school for it, but Felix was pretty popular, so most people left me alone.” 

He had no idea why he just admitted that out loud, but he knew he could trust Minho not to make fun of him. He blushed a little, as Minho’s eyes lidded with a soft smile. 

“Speaking of Felix, have you talked to him yet?” He jumped to the topic of his brother still being pissed at him, and that made Jisung bite his lip. They hadn’t really talked much about it, probably because Minho knew he was hurt about the whole situation. 

“No…he won’t answer my messages,” he said, and he knew a giant frown spread across his lips. 

He heard Minho sigh deeply.

“I’ll talk to him at practice tomorrow,” he told him confidently, and Jisung shook his head.

“I’m sure he’ll just get even more mad if you try. He won’t even talk to Hyunjin, so don’t worry about it.” 

“I am worrying about it. I know he’s pissed, but he’s making you upset, and like I said, I don’t care if he’s your brother I’ll kick his ass.” 

That made Jisung chuckle.

“Please don’t kick my brother’s ass.” 

Minho reached up then, brushing his thumb over his cheek. 

“I’ll take on anyone that hurts you.”

Jisung’s heart once again was in his throat, seeing those serious eyes with that intense gaze. He pulled him in to attach their lips, and Jisung swore he melted as they gently pressed together. It wasn’t possessive this time, more like a soft promise, and he shivered as he felt his fingers graze the back of his neck. 

When he pulled back, Minho still had that powerful stare. 

Jisung jumped when the alarm on his phone went off, telling him reading time was over and he had to get to class—even though he hadn’t been reading at all. 

He quickly grabbed his phone and his book from his side. He went to shove them in his bag but Minho grabbed his wrist gently. 

“Still reading it, huh?”

He looked thrilled, and Jisung wasn’t sure why he felt so embarrassed at that. 

“Um, yeah...”

“How many times have you read it now?” he asked, and his smile was so wide he thought his face might split. 

“Six. I…started adding my own comments too. I…really like it.” 

“I knew you would.” 

He blushed, seeing that knowing and cocky grin. He shoved his stuff into his bag after tugging his wrist from his soft grasp. 

“I–I have algebra, so I’ll see you later, okay? And go to class,” he eyed him, and that made Minho smile.

“I will, if you promise to stop letting other guys flirt with you.” 

Jisung slung his bag over his shoulder, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh my god, you are so dramatic, I wasn’t .” 

Minho pulled him in to steal one more kiss.

“Bye, babe.” 

Jisung wished he could lay with him in the grass, reading his book, with his head on his shoulder for the rest of the afternoon. Unfortunately, he had to pull away, because he was going to be late if he got any more distracted. 

He waved as he left the courtyard, and he could feel his eyes on him until he had disappeared behind the door. But even though his gaze was finally off him, his hammering heart never stopped. 

He wanted Hyunjin to come for support, but he couldn’t because he had his art show. He knew it was stupid of him to be so afraid to talk to his own brother, but he honestly had no idea what to say. He knew he was guilty, and he had every right to be mad at him. He sighed as he made his way to the baseball field where Minho told him to come early. 

He was always there before everyone else, and Jisung knew he would be practicing on the mound with his headphones in, throwing ball after ball at the backstop. Jisung watched him for a little bit by the fence on the first baseline. He had his hat on backwards, and he had a long red long sleeve undershirt beneath his jersey. He couldn’t help but notice him seeming a little anxious. Their game was tomorrow, and last night Minho was a little sparse in his text messages. He was definitely stressed, and Jisung wished he could help take that feeling away. 

He passed the fence and made his way over the mound, waiting for Minho to throw one more pitch before tossing a ball that was laying in the grass at his butt. It softly hit him this time, but it still made him jump. 

He turned with a small smile, taking his headphones out and shaking his head.

“You know, I can hear you if you just yell my name a little. No need to assault me.” 

“I threw it so lightly this time though.” 

“So, you finally admit you threw it hard at me last time?” He chuckled, hopping down from the mound to wrap his arm around his waist. Jisung placed his hands on his chest, looking up slightly since he was just a bit taller, especially with his cleats on. 

“No, I don’t. I refuse to admit that.” 

Minho smirked, but leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. As soon as he pulled back though, he looked stressed again. 

“I have to get back to practice though. I just…wanted to say hi because I knew I kind of blew you off yesterday. I’m sorry, I was here all night.” 

Jisung pouted a little, finally noticing how tired he looked after pointing it out. 

“Minho, it’s fine—”

He pressed another quick kiss to his lips, cutting him off. 

“My dad’s in town tonight, so I can’t hang out. He wants to coach me on my pitching before tomorrow’s game,” he told him. Jisung could see the anxiety in his features, so clearly. 

“Okay, yeah, I get it.” He tried to assure him, but Minho still looked conflicted. Jisung was surprised when he pressed their foreheads together, sighing deeply. 

“If I don’t—pitch well…he’s going to be so pissed.” 

His voice was shaky, and Jisung felt his heart clench. Minho was slowly and surely opening up more and more. He couldn’t help but feel selfishly happy, hearing his concerns pour out of him. He placed both arms on his shoulders, squeezing tightly in reassurance. 

“Yeah, but you’re an amazing pitcher, so don’t worry about it. You’ve been playing lights out recently, so don’t stress, okay?” He tried to encourage him the best he could. He had just pitched a practice game, where he had twelve strike outs. Jisung had been mesmerized once again, watching his fastball soar by players, swinging and missing over and over again. 

“That’s not true. Don’t lie.” 

Jisung was surprised, hearing him sound a little angry. It was the same voice from when he had yelled at him in his dorm for trying to tell him he did well. 

“I’m not lying, Minho. Stop being so hard on yourself all the time. How can you do good, if you don’t think you are?”

“Because I have so much to improve on. I’ve—I’ve been throwing terribly this season. It’s driving me up a fucking wall. I can’t get control of the ball, my wild pitches are up in unreasonable numbers, and I’m thinking it’s because you keep—” 

He paused instantly, biting his lip hard. That made Jisung’s eyebrow twitch. 

“I keep what?” He knew he sounded pissed, but that stabbed through him. He was about to blame him. 

“Nothing, I didn’t—” 

“Because I keep distracting you? If that’s true, then why did you even ask me to come today?” He was bitter. He promised himself he wouldn’t get that way, but when Minho looked at him like that, with those intense eyes and angry tone, he couldn’t stop himself from getting upset. 

“Jisung, I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” 

“Then why the fuck are you so mad?” He couldn’t get control of his emotions again. Minho always seemed to make them go wild. 

“I’m not mad. Stop getting so damn snippy.” 

“Me? You’re the one getting pissed and telling me you’re pitching badly because of me, how the hell am I supposed to take that?” He was borderline yelling, and Minho’s jaw clenched. 

“I told you already. It’s because I like you a lot, okay? You’re all I’m thinking about. I’ve never cared about anything other than baseball. That’s what I was trying to say.” 

Jisung’s heart flipped, seeing that anger on Minho’s face turn into a little bit of pain. He was speechless, looking at Minho’s furrowed eyebrows and uncertain expression. 

He suddenly felt bad for lashing out, after he told him he wouldn’t. He bit the inside of his cheek, adding to the guilt inside his heart. He wanted to apologize, but before he could, Minho was brushing his hair behind his ear. 

“Go sit on the bleachers,” he told him, his voice low. Jisung wasn’t sure why his entire body froze up, nodding instantly. Minho tapped his head with his mitt before stepping away from him, with that pained face still present. 

He slowly made his way to his spot where he would normally sit for practices. He had his book with him in his bag. He had finished his sixth read-through, and now he was on his seventh. He brought his green pen, writing beside the dark pink ink left by Minho. 

Do you believe in love at first sight? I wasn’t sure I did before, but I think that might have changed. 

Jisung’s heart always slammed against his ribs, reading that over and over. He looked up to see Minho greeting Chan, but that smile was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t take his eyes off him as he practiced, throwing pitch after pitch into Chan’s mitt, smacking so loudly it vibrated off the metal of the bleachers. 

He uncapped his pen.

I do, but I’m a hopeless romantic, so that’s not surprising, is it?

He kept looking between his book, the mound and home plate, watching as Minho progressively got more frustrated with his performance. He looked overwhelmed, especially since Felix had been glaring at him the entire time. He hadn’t even bothered to look in his direction when he showed up for practice, still seeming incredibly pissed off. 

Jisung knew he had to talk to him tonight, because he didn’t want that tension spilling into tomorrow’s game. 

He could tell they were barely talking, but Minho was actually being way less combative than normal. He would usually make little comments whenever Felix missed the ball and it hit the backstop, but today, he kept his little quips to himself. 

Jisung almost jumped off the bleachers after practice, when Felix threw his mitt hard, right into Minho’s chest, after he tried to grab him by the arm. 

“I don’t give a shit what you have to say.” He heard him yell, making him slam his book shut. 

“Would you quit acting like a brat for two fucking minutes and just listen?” Minho snapped back, seeing Felix’s raging face. He didn’t respond. He grabbed his glove from the ground and started stomping his way back to the dugout. 

“Hey, I wasn’t done talking.” Minho was racing after him, and Jisung wanted to do something , but he knew he should probably just stay back on the bleachers. Although, his curiosity got the best of him as they disappeared down the steps. He made his way over to the entrance of the dugout with his book pressed to his chest. Felix’s back was turned, but he knew Minho could see him standing there. Their eyes only caught for a brief second, as Minho cornered Felix so he couldn’t move. 

“Back up,” he warned, but Minho shook his head.

“I like your brother. I’m not fucking with him, and I’m not being a dick. I really like him, so I asked him to go out with me.” He blurted out, and that made Jisung’s eyes go wide. He blushed, hearing his confession. 

“Yeah? Well, I don’t like you, and I don’t want him with some asshole who doesn’t respect him,” he barked back, and that made Minho’s jaw clench.

“Look, I know we haven’t really gotten along, but—”

“No shit. You’ve been nothing but an absolute dick since I’ve met you, and you want me to believe you would treat Jisung any different?” 

Jisung knew he would think that. To be fair, it was a reasonable concern. He thought Minho was a jerk too, but after he got to know him a little, that wasn’t so true.

Minho sighed, his gaze becoming dark.

“Your brother means a lot to me,” he admitted with a bit of a blush on his cheeks. Felix scoffed. 

“He means a lot more to me. He’s been heartbroken and lonely for months, and he doesn’t need an asshole like you making it worse.” 

“Felix.” Jisung couldn’t hold himself back anymore—not after that comment. He turned so quickly, seeing him standing at the side of the dugout, with a hurt expression and his book in his hand, hanging at his side. 

They stared at each other, and Felix looked surprised for only a second before a scowl was back on his face. He went to leave the dugout, but Minho pushed him back by the shoulder. 

“I’m leaving, get out of my way,” he demanded, and Minho just shook his head.

Jisung made his way down into the dugout, knowing it was going to be difficult to get him to listen. 

“Felix, I’m really sorry, okay?” He sounded like he was going to cry already, and that made Felix’s tense shoulders slump a little. 

“You lied to me. How long have you been lying about this?” he asked then, and at least he was talking to him and asking him questions now.

“Well…I don’t know exactly, but—”

“What do you mean you don’t know? How long have you two been sleeping together?” He was a little aggressive in his tone, and Jisung could see Minho’s eyes flick over to him with a warning glare.

“We only—did once. But we…I mean, the night he stayed in my hotel room when you were sick…I guess that was when it really started,” he admitted, and that made Felix sigh deeply. 

“What about him being an asshole, huh? What about him treating me like shit? What about him treating you like shit? I just have a hard time believing this is something you really want. How can you go from someone so sweet like Seungmin, to someone like him?” 

He was acting like Minho wasn’t even there, and Jisung could see Minho clench his fingers. 

“You mean that shit ex of his who clearly didn’t care, and didn’t know anything about him? Yeah, he seems like a great guy.” Minho added, and that made Felix glare at him.

“You don’t know anything so why don’t you—”

“Minho’s right,” he interrupted him. He knew that might make him angry, but the more he was with Minho, the more he realized that Seungmin wasn’t right for him. 

“What?” he asked incredulously. 

“He left me, Felix. Our relationship—it was fine, but I don’t think he really cared for me the way I did for him. He didn’t know…a lot of things about me. He was bored of me. He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t want to stay…”

That made Felix’s face fall.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this? I thought—I thought you trusted me?” He sounded hurt, and that made Jisung frown.

“I’m sorry. I was…embarrassed. I was so ready to keep our relationship going, and when he told me he wanted to break up, I felt like such an idiot. I thought if I just didn’t talk about it, and tried to forget then maybe that stupid feeling—it would just go away.” 

He was trying not to tear up, but his heart was tearing itself apart in his chest.

“And I wanted to tell you about Minho and I, but I know you two hate each other, so I didn’t know what to do. I thought you would be mad at me if I told you I liked him, and that he’s actually super nice to me...” 

Felix looked like his brain was whirling, that he couldn’t believe he was saying that out loud. 

“I don’t hate you, just so you know.” Minho spoke up then, and Felix sighed as his eyes flicked over to him. He shook his head before his gaze slid back over to Jisung, who was pouting at him with the best sad face he could muster up.

“You really like him?” he asked, and that made him blush. He nodded though, looking down at the book in his hands before he spoke.

“Yeah,” he answered simply, and Felix threw his head back taking in a deep breath. When he brought his chin back down, he looked between the two of them for a moment. 

“If you hurt him, I swear to god I will break that fucking hand of yours.” he threatened, and Minho chuckled, holding his hand out.

“If I do, then I’ll let you break it.” 

Jisung finally gave a small smile as they shook hands, a little reluctantly. Felix definitely looked a little uncertain still, as he brought his hand back down to his side. 

“I have to go. I’m going to catch the end of Hyunjin’s art show,” he told them, grabbing his bag from the bench. 

“Will you…come over tonight?” Jisung blurted out before he could walk away.

He was relieved when Felix didn’t look at him with that disgusted look, and gave him a tiny smile instead.

“Yeah, we can watch that anime Hyunjin wanted to see,” he said before glancing over to Minho, “I guess you can come too.” 

“I have scheduled pitching practice for tomorrow’s game, so I can’t—but thanks.”

Felix just nodded before hopping out of the dugout. Jisung let out a sigh of relief, feeling the stress wash away from his shoulders a little. He suddenly felt exhausted. 

He jumped a little when he felt fingers raking through his hair softly.

“You okay?” Minho asked, the concern present on his face. 

Jisung nodded, with a genuine smile. Felix wasn’t mad at him anymore, and that’s all he could ask for. 

“Yeah, I’m—I’m okay.” 

Minho sighed, looking a little guilty.

“I’m sorry, I know you told me not to talk to him, but—I saw how sad you looked on the bleachers…and I couldn’t help it.” 

Jisung’s heart fluttered a little as that blush was on Minho’s cheeks again. He really loved seeing it. 

“Thanks…” 

He was shy himself, feeling his ears burn. 

It was quiet between them for a few moments, as they awkwardly stood in the dugout, debating on what to say next.

“So—I probably won’t see you until the game then…” he trailed off, and Minho just nodded.

“Probably. I’m going to be pretty busy.”

Jisung tried not to feel sad that he couldn’t hang out and watch TV with them all night, but he had promised him he would be okay with him prioritizing baseball.

“That’s okay. I’ll be in the stands cheering you on.” 

That made Minho smirk.

“I know. You always are.” He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, just like he had earlier. “I have to get going, but I’ll talk to you when I can, okay?” 

Jisung nodded again, giving him the best encouraging smile he could. 

Hyunjin was thrilled that he and Felix had made up. He brought both of them into a hug, making them promise to never fight again. Then, he forced Jisung to spill all night about Minho, and he could tell Felix was trying to ignore their conversation as he chewed on the popcorn they had made. 

He knew Felix wasn’t exactly one hundred percent on board with their relationship, and he knew he didn’t trust Minho completely either. He didn’t blame him though. It would probably take a while before he had faith in Minho’s intentions. 

Hyunjin couldn’t stop gushing though, saying how he knew they had liked each other all along. Jisung blushed when he asked him how the night he spent in his dorm went, but he definitely dodged that question the best he could, seeing Felix cringe. He knew he would try to get it out of him at a later date though. 

Felix had stayed over in their dorm, and he had woken early to bring both Jisung and Hyunjin some coffee before he left for morning practice. Jisung was awake when he heard the door open, smiling into his pillow seeing Felix press a gentle kiss to Hyunjin’s head before leaving the room. 

It was sick how sweet they were together. He had never seen his brother so in love before either. 

When Hyunjin finally woke up, two hours after that, he was scrambling to get ready since the game was at noon. He complained, asking why Jisung didn’t wake him up, but getting him out of bed was nearly impossible, so honestly he didn’t really want to try.

It was a beautiful day as they made their way to the baseball field. There was a slight chill, but the sun was out and heating up the stands perfectly. He had on Minho’s jacket, the one he repeatedly kept making him wear since it was cold, with his name scrawled across the back. Hyunjin waggled his eyebrows at him as he saw him put it on before they left. 

They arrived a few minutes late, since Hyunjin had been dragging his feet. There were a couple spots left in the stands, and there were a ton of away fans mixed into the crowd. The college team they were playing was only about an hour away, and one of the biggest rivals they had. Their roster was on par with them, making the game a total toss up. But with Minho pitching, he wanted him to shut them out and beat them. 

He was practicing on the baseline with Felix catching for him. He looked tense again, like there was something heavy on his shoulders. That anxiety was even more present than it was in the last game, and he could see it in the way he was throwing the ball. It was so obvious how different he was when his dad was in the stands watching him. 

He threw a pitch past Felix, so wild that even when he laid out, he couldn’t reach it. He could see Minho bite his lip from the bleachers, so hard with frustration he thought he actually might tear it off. He was surprised that when Felix approached him to pat him on the shoulder, he didn’t yell at him or shrug him off. He was just frozen. 

Jisung also noticed he wasn’t looking in the crowd at all. He didn’t even bother to scan the fans to look for him. He didn’t blame him, but he was a little selfish for wishing he would have just waved in his direction a little bit. He wanted to encourage him. He wanted to smile at him, and tell him that everything would be okay. But he knew Minho probably didn’t want to hear it anyway. 

The announcers came over the speaker, and the game was about to start. Minho was on the mound first, and Jisung could still see that tenseness in his shoulders. He took a deep breath, even though it didn’t relax him in the slightest. He was surprised when he struck out all three batters, not missing a single target, only because of how tense he was.   He looked relieved, blowing out a big puff of air as he walked off the mound.

Jisung cheered loudly, definitely a little more than necessary, but he didn’t care if people were staring at him. Hyunjin cheered right along with him, making him smile wide. 

Minho struck out batter after batter, and Jisung was starting to see that confident grin return to his face. He looked a little calmer as they settled into the fourth. They were up by three runs and the top of the order was about to bat again. 

Felix hit one deep into right field, which caused Hyunjin to break Jisung’s eardrum with his excited screams. The outfielder fumbled the ball since it was hit so hard, allowing Felix to get a triple. 

Jisung smiled as he saw Minho finally getting into the game, cheering from the dugout and giving Felix two thumbs up. It made Jisung’s heart swell a little, seeing Felix give him the same gesture in return. He was also happy to finally see a tiny smile on his face, like that anxiety was disappearing. 

They scored another two runs, and Minho was pitching lights out, just like Jisung told him he would. He was amazing, barely throwing any wild pitches, and hitting Felix’s mitt every single time on target. 

He could see that smile fade though, when in the seventh he gave up a run, allowing two back-to-back hits. By the time he was taken out of the game, they were up by four. Minho had his head low, with his hat tipped down as he walked off the field. Jisung’s heart sank. 

He couldn’t believe he looked disappointed. He had done so well. They were up by four. He barely let up any hits. He was always too hard on himself. 

He could see him stomping towards the locker room, with his hat still covering his face. 

He wasn’t about to let him be disappointed in himself—not again. 

Jisung pushed Hyunjin by the shoulder so he could get by him. He tried not to stumble as he stepped on his shoes.  

“Ow—where are you going?” he asked, almost falling as he bumped him. 

“I’ll be back.” 

He quickly jumped down to the grass, almost falling to his knees. He decided to just jump off the edge instead of filtering through all the people. Besides, Minho was moving quickly, and he didn’t want to lose him. 

He ran towards the clubhouse, where Minho had disappeared. He slammed through the door and made his way down the hall where he knew the locker room was. 

He flinched when he heard something slam in the room before he could push past the door. The loud sounds continued, and Jisung waited until the crashing and banging stopped before slowly swinging the door open. 

There were a few water coolers, several bats and a few helmets all over the floor. Minho was sitting on the bench in front of his locker, wringing his hands together in frustration. 

He looked up instantly, seeing Jisung in the room. The surprise on his face was evident, and Jisung hated that he immediately glared at him. 

“What are you doing here?” His voice was dark, and Jisung winced a little. He knew it was probably stupid to follow him, especially when the game was still going and Minho looked so pissed, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“I—I was worried, because you looked upset coming off the mound,” he told him, turning his head to look at the mess on the floor. 

Minho sighed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. 

“You need to leave,” he answered, and Jisung immediately frowned. He clenched his fists and stood his ground, because last time he left without saying anything. But he wasn’t going to let that happen this time. 

“Minho, you pitched really well.” 

He flinched at his words. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

Jisung looked at him like he was confused, wondering if he genuinely believed that—because he had pitched completely fine. 

“You had 8 strikeouts, and you only let in one run. That’s—I mean, you know that’s good, right?” 

His nostrils flared at that, and he stood from the bench. His gaze was wild, and Jisung felt his insides shake at his intense stare. 

“I can’t afford to be just good, Jisung. It’s not enough. Good doesn’t get you to the major leagues. Excellence does.” 

That anxiety was back. Jisung could see it clearly as he snapped at him. 

His eyes flicked away from his angered face, glancing towards the ground. 

“But—you are excellent. I’ve been going to Felix’s games for years, and—you’re the best pitcher I’ve ever seen.” 

He didn’t know what else to say. He knew Minho would probably just get mad at him again, but he meant every word. Since the first day he watched him on that mound, he was mesmerized. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. He never could. 

When he looked back up, Minho’s intense gaze had completely changed. 

“Stop. Just…stop.” He wasn’t angry, but he sounded defeated. 

“But I mean it.”

“Jisung.” 

That time he sounded angry, warning him with his tone. It made Jisung wince, but he wasn’t going to be deterred. 

“Minho, you’re such a great baseball player. I love watching you because of how good you are. So no, I won’t stop, not until you listen to me and believe me.”

Jisung gasped when Minho grabbed him by the wrist. He pushed him against the lockers, and before he could say anything, his lips were on his. He whined a little, feeling the combination lock dig into his back. Minho kissed him harder, pinning his wrist above his head as he licked at his bottom lip, trying to get him to open his mouth. 

He tried to grab at the front of his jersey, but Minho quickly grabbed his other hand, and both arms were restrained above his head. 

Minho tasted like sweat, and a bit of dirt. He was filthy from the game, and he could feel the residue from the rosin bag on his fingertips against his skin. But he didn’t care in the slightest, he kissed him back just as hard, allowing him to slide his tongue against his. 

He knew they should probably talk instead of whatever they were doing, but Minho’s lips always seemed to wipe his mind. He could tell he was angry and stressed—he could feel it in his kiss. He wanted to take that pain away, even if it was ridiculous to think he could. 

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when Minho pulled away for a moment. Jisung could feel the dampness of his forehead as he pressed them together. 

“I’m sorry.” 

His eyes were screwed shut, and Jisung’s wrists were still pinned. He couldn’t move them since Minho’s grip was tight. 

“It’s okay.” His voice was a little shaky, but he meant it. 

“I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have let up that run. I walked too many batters. I’m the ace and I’m playing so fucking average.” 

Jisung let him vent, and didn’t complain when his grasp tightened. He wasn’t sure if his words would make it worse, so he kept quiet as he seemed to be trying to let out his feelings. 

“His expectations are high. I didn’t play up to his expectations.” 

Jisung bit his lip, hearing that dejected tone. 

“Well, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I thought you played amazing.” 

Minho pulled back a bit, letting Jisung’s wrists loose. He whimpered a little as the blood started to return to his hands. 

Minho brought a hand up to his face, brushing his thumb over his cheek. He was still so close, and Jisung could see a different emotion in his eyes. He rubbed his tingling hands together as he gave him a questioning face. 

“What?”

Minho gripped his chin, smirking at him as he tilted his head back, so it gently hit the cool metal lockers. 

“You’re looking at me with those eyes again.”

He shivered, seeing his gaze flick up and down his body. 

“What eyes?” He looked at him confused. 

“Like you want me to fuck you.” 

His sudden words made his eyes go wide. 

“What? I’m—I’m not.” He flushed a dark red, causing Minho to chuckle a little. 

“I could take you right here, but we’d have to be quick.”

Jisung swallowed his heart down as Minho tickled his fingers underneath his chin. He looked away, feeling shy, but Minho pulled at his jaw, forcing his eyes back to his. 

“You don’t want to?” he asked, and Jisung couldn’t believe he was actually suggesting it. 

“Knock it off. We can’t do it here,” he mumbled, grabbing his jersey and trying to push him back. Unfortunately, Minho was a solid brick of muscle, so moving him was impossible without more force. It seemed all of Jisung’s strength had dissipated at the thought of getting fucked in the locker room. His heart raced thinking about it. 

“Then tell me no, Jisung. Tell me you don’t want it.” 

His smirk was wide, stretching almost all the way to his ears. 

“I mean…we shouldn’t…” he trailed off, feeling his cheeks heat even more, making him uncomfortably warm. 

He couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to say no. He couldn’t believe his stomach was swirling with that desire. Minho looked at him like he was waiting for approval to devour him, right there.

“Yes or no, Jisung. I told you I won’t if you don’t want it.”

Fuck. He wanted it so bad.

“What if someone walks in?” he asked nervously. Minho leaned in closer, causing his breath to hitch. 

“The game is still going on. They won’t.” He tried to assure him, and Jisung was close to giving into that crazy desire in the pit of his stomach. 

He had never done anything like that before—especially in a public place. It was risky. It was stupid. But Minho always made him lose his sanity. 

“We don’t…have condoms.” 

“If you’re okay without using one, then so am I.”

Jisung’s heart was threatening to explode. 

“But…” he trailed off, blushing as he realized he wanted him. He had never had sex without one, but he needed him. 

“Yes or no?” He repeated, and he could see his neck tensing, waiting for his response. 

“Y—Yes—”

His words were cut off by his lips on his. His rough hand grasped at his hair, yanking just enough to tug his head back. His tongue was in his mouth again, with more aggression this time. Jisung whined, and his fingers were a bit shaky as he tried to grab onto him. 

Minho barely let him get a hold on his clothes before he pulled back, flipping him around so he was facing the lockers. His hands came up to press against them, the dampness of his skin caused prints to form on the cool metal. 

He felt Minho’s fingertips tickle up under his sweater, gripping his sides. 

“You look so fucking cute in my jacket, babe.” 

Jisung shuddered as he pressed his body closer. He trailed his fingers up until they found both of his nipples, pinching them gently between his thumb and forefinger. He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling his lips press to the side of his neck. 

“My name written on your back, telling everyone you’re mine, yeah?” 

His heart was fluttering wildly at his whispered words against his ear. He clenched his fingers against the lockers, trying not to let his knees buckle. 

He felt those fingers in his hair again, pulling his head back up since it had dipped so low. 

“You’re gonna get my fingers nice and wet just like you did last time, okay?” he asked, and Jisung couldn’t nod even if he wanted to, since Minho had a firm grasp on him. 

“O—Okay,” he breathed out, knowing silence wouldn’t satisfy him. 

“If you want to stop, what do you say?” 

Jisung shivered at the gentle kiss being placed on his cheek. 

“Stop.” 

“Good boy.”

He melted at his pleased tone. 

He didn’t waste any time shoving his fingers past his lips, all three splayed against his tongue. He was shocked, not expecting it. He groaned a little as Minho pressed them in quick and deep. 

“Don’t argue, it’s probably the bottom of the eighth so we don’t have a lot of time before the game ends. If you don’t want someone walking in to see me fucking your cute little ass, then hurry up and get my fingers wet.” 

Jisung squeezed his eyes shut, lapping his tongue around them the best he could, coating them with as much spit as he had. 

His heart was hammering. He couldn’t believe he was about to let Minho fuck him in the locker room. He never would have even considered doing something so reckless, not that Seungmin would ever anyway. 

When Minho was satisfied with the wetness of his fingers, he pulled them from his mouth, causing Jisung to splutter a bit. 

He yelped when his pants were being tugged down, immediately wanting to pull them back up. He was completely exposed, and the cold air swirled around him. Minho yanked them all the way down to his ankles, slapping between his knees. 

“Open,” he demanded, and Jisung was just glad he couldn’t see his embarrassed face at the moment. His entire body was burning red, he could feel his blush everywhere. 

He shuffled his feet, spreading his legs the best he could. He flinched when Minho gripped his ass cheek, squeezing a bit. 

“Good, listening so well. You’re that desperate, huh?”

Jisung couldn’t help his little whine. He was desperate. He was also terrified that the door would open, and someone would catch them. But his want for Minho overpowered his fear. 

Minho froze behind him, clearly waiting for him to answer. Every question needed an answer. 

“Yes…I—I want you…” he murmured, hoping Minho would quit kneading his skin and do something upon hearing that. 

Jisung’s eyes went wide as he felt Minho press a gentle kiss to his skin.

“Lean over, hands out flat,” he instructed him. Jisung unclenched his fingers, placed them on the lockers and leaned over as he was told. 

He gasped when he felt Minho’s fingers touch at his rim, the dampness being spread for just a moment before he breached him. 

He moved his hand to try and keep his moans back, placing it over his mouth. He jumped when Minho’s other hand smacked his cheek, hard. 

“Hands on the locker,” he demanded. 

“But—”

“Hands on the locker. Don’t make me tell you again.” 

He placed his shaky palm back on the metal and tried to stifle his voice by biting harshly onto his bottom lip instead. 

Minho kissed his cheek again, rewardingly, as he did as he was told. 

“There you go, sweetheart, let me hear you.” 

He couldn’t hold his tiny whines back as Minho had two fingers slipping deep into him. He felt his knees quake, and he was holding himself up the best he could. 

His heart was hammering and Minho was stretching him as quickly and comfortably as he could. It was definitely rushed, with a bit of a burning pain, but it would fade fast since Minho was so good with his fingers. 

He would twist and hook them, bumping perfectly into that spot that had Jisung whining even louder. 

“How does that feel?” Minho asked, checking in. 

“G—Good. So good…” he breathed out, trying not to clench his fingers so Minho wouldn’t chide him. He added a third finger, and Jisung’s legs almost gave out. 

“I’m gonna fuck you like this,” Minho told him, and Jisung felt all the air leave his lungs. “Stay bent over, and where do I want your hands?” 

He wanted to answer, but he couldn’t find any oxygen to fuel his words. He almost screamed when Minho shoved his fingers in as deep as they could go. 

“I asked you a question, Jisung.” 

“On—On the—locker,” he squeaked out, answering immediately. 

Minho pulled his fingers out and Jisung thought he was going to collapse. His cock was hard and leaking desperately. He wanted to touch himself, badly , but he knew Minho would be dissatisfied if he moved his hands. 

He could feel a finger trail down his spine, and it ignited every cell in his body. 

“He never fucked you this way either, did he?” 

He flushed, completely embarrassed, but he knew he needed to answer. 

“No—we never…not like this…” 

Minho scoffed, and Jisung felt him grasp his hips. 

“That guy was a fucking idiot.” 

Jisung’s breath hitched as he pressed himself up against him. He could feel his warmth and how turned on he was as he rubbed himself between his spread cheeks. 

“I want to fuck you in every way. I want to see you take me in every position possible. You’re so fucking pretty, Jisung. I can’t stop thinking about it, begging for me to make you feel good.” 

Jisung shuddered hearing that. Minho was insane , just saying something like that so honestly. His hands were caressing his skin so softly, as he leaned over to press his lips against his ear. 

“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve.” 

Before Jisung could respond Minho was pushing in, the tip of his cock slipped past his rim. He went to clench his fingers, but Minho’s hands pressed over them, keeping them flat. 

“Ah, Min—Minho—”

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Jisung wanted to argue, to tell him that he was just big— instead he just relaxed his body and took him deeper, until Minho’s hips were flush against ass. 

He was ridiculously huge, and Jisung could feel him poking his insides. He could feel his choppy breaths on his neck, and he shivered at the quick kiss he placed there. 

He removed his hands from on top of his, sliding them down to his sides and gripping at the end of the sweater. He twisted his fists into the fabric, pulled back his hips and slammed into him. 

Jisung was glad he couldn’t see his face, because he knew he would be smirking wide and satisfied by the loud moan he just let out. 

He never thought it could feel so intense. He never thought he would desperately need to be touched. His fingertips were shaking, begging to move as Minho pounded into him, over and over again. 

“You’re being so good, Jisung. Keep your hips up, baby.” 

He knew he was struggling as his knees bent deeper and deeper. Minho gripped one hand around him, helping him stand. 

He was breathless, feeling Minho tugging on the sweater to bring him back to meet his cock, thrusting hard and fast into him. They were both desperate, and Jisung liked the little moans leaving Minho’s lips. 

“Fuck, your ass is so damn pretty. You wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you? Is that why you followed me here? You wanted my cock that bad?” 

Jisung let out a choked sound, because really, that wasn’t the reason why, but it just turned out that way. He wasn’t complaining, because Minho was making him feel so damn good. 

“I—I wanted—to tell you, how well—you did…” 

He spoke between breaths, trying to get the words out as Minho relentlessly fucked him. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. But praise is your thing, not mine.” 

He flushed hearing his tiny chuckle, and his heart jumped in his chest. That embarrassed him. 

“It’s—It’s not...” 

He tried to deny it, and he wanted to scream when Minho came to a sudden halt. 

“Oh, it’s not? You want me to stop then? You don’t want me to tell you how good you’re being, or how well you’ve been listening? You don’t want me to reward you for being so sweet and obedient?”

His words had his head swirling. Because he did want that. He wanted it so bad. 

“N—No…I want it, Minho, please. I do want it.”

“Then why would you say that, hm?”

Why? 

Because he was embarrassed to admit it. 

He didn’t want to admit that Minho easily turned him into someone he didn’t recognize. He made him a compliant, whimpering mess every single time. He had no idea why he would get so pathetic, or why he immediately listened to anything he said by just hearing that demanding tone. It was so embarrassing how much he needed it. He never knew he wanted to be fucked like this. He had no idea he wanted to be told he was good. He couldn’t believe how much it turned him on—and Minho was willing to give it to him, as long as he satisfied him. 

Which is why his jaw dropped open so he could beg. 

“I’m—I’m sorry…please just…please fuck me.” 

He felt the tears prick his eyes when Minho clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. 

“I don’t think you really want it. We can just stop.” 

Jisung’s heart clenched, feeling him starting to pull out. He wanted to take his hands off the lockers so fucking bad, but he knew that’s not want Minho would want. He wanted him to say it. 

“No, please no, don’t—don’t stop. I want it. I’ll be  good. I promise. I’ll—I’ll keep my hips up. I’ll keep my hands on the lockers. Please , Minho. I like it. I—I want to be good for you. I want you to tell me I’m good.” 

He punched back in, so hard that Jisung’s forehead hit the locker in front of him. He must not have noticed, and Jisung didn’t care, because he was fucking him even faster now, filling him with that relief and pleasure. 

“You are so fucking good, Jisung. Fuck, you’re so perfect for me. You deserve all the praise in the world, and I’ll make sure you get it.”

Praise. Fuck, he never thought he would want it so much. He had no idea it was something he needed. 

He let out a cry when Minho wrapped his hand around to grab at his aching cock. 

“I want you to cum for me, baby. You’ve been so good, letting me fuck you, begging for it, taking it, listening so well.” 

Jisung couldn’t take the whispers in his ear. He felt Minho’s wrist flick over the tip, with his thumb sliding under the head just perfectly to cause his entire body to jolt. He came instantly, whining loudly, and painting the lockers in front of him. He was gasping for air as Minho teased his cock. He slowly fucked into his hand as Minho pounded into him slower from behind, allowing him to ride out his orgasm. 

He was gasping for air, and he could hear Minho groan behind him. He knew he was clenching hard. 

“Jisung, can I cum inside you?” 

He shivered, trying to shake off that intense feeling as Minho asked him a question that had never been asked of him before. 

“I’ve—I’ve never…before…” 

That made Minho groan.

“He never fucked you raw before either, did he?” he asked, and Jisung immediately shook his head. 

“He never—fucked me this way…from behind. It feels so good.” 

He sounded so pathetic.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Do you like it this way?”

Jisung was nodding immediately. 

“Yes— yes. I like it.”

Minho slammed into him even harder, causing another loud moan to fall from his lips and a few tears to slip past his eyes. 

“I want to cum so deep in you, I want you to feel it, you’ve been so good letting me fuck you like this. I want to fuck you full of it.”

Jisung was dizzy. 

“Say it. Tell me I can, or I won’t.” Minho always needed confirmation, and Jisung thought that was actually kind of sweet of him. 

“You can—cum inside. I want to—know what it feels like.” 

“Holy fuck.” Minho's thrusts were erratic, and Jisung almost let go of the lockers to grab his thigh to pull him closer, but he didn’t. 

He could feel the warmth inside him. He could feel Minho pulsing, filling him full with it. He blushed, feeling his forehead press to the back of his head. He was panting, and his hand was still gripped hard into his sweater. 

Jisung whined when he pulled out, feeling himself clench around nothing. He went to move, suddenly feeling shy since he wasn’t sure where Minho’s eyes were, but he felt a harsh grip on his cheek. 

“Stay still,” he demanded, and Jisung shivered at his tone. 

His eyes went wide as Minho shoved a gentle finger into him and then another, spreading him a little. 

“H—Hey…what are you—”

“I’m glad he never fucked you this way. He didn’t deserve to fuck you like this. He didn’t deserve to fuck you deep, to see his cum dripping out of you.”

Jisung’s body was burning red, feeling the liquid dribble out of him and down his thigh. He felt so exposed, so open, so filthy—and Minho was staring at him. 

“M—Minho…don’t look…please…” he begged. 

He felt his fingers finally leave his body, and Jisung could still feel the cum leaking past his rim. Minho was silent, gently caressing the skin of his ass. After a minute he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I—I want to stop, Minho, please, let me move my hands,” he whined.

That seemed to snap him out of it. 

“Yes, okay. You can move them, sweetheart.” 

He finally stood up, feeling his back completely stiff and a little sore. He immediately went to grab for his pants to pull them back up. He was starting to get anxious, thinking someone could walk in any second—even though that thought had been pushed down for the last twenty minutes. 

“Hold on, let me clean you up.” 

He looked over his shoulder to see him grabbing a towel from one of the lockers on the other side. He grumbled, feeling Minho wipe at his thigh and all the way up to get the rest of the mess. 

Minho grabbed his pants and helped shimmy them back up to his hips. Jisung was blushing deep. He couldn’t believe they just fucked in the locker room, during a game. 

Minho flipped him then, and he couldn’t bring himself to look into his eyes. He was burning red with embarrassment. 

It was quiet for a moment until Minho sighed deeply. 

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have.” 

Jisung’s heart swelled, hearing that defeated tone. 

“No, I—I said yes…it’s fine.” 

It really was. He didn’t have to say yes. He had all the opportunity to say no, but he couldn’t help but want him. 

“I lost my head, and—I was pissed at myself and then…you were being cute trying to make me feel better, and fuck, I knew you were staring at me all game, and I—”

Jisung cut him off, pressing his lips to his. Minho’s breath hitched, clearly not expecting it. When he pulled back, Jisung knew he was blushing. 

“It’s okay. I—I wanted it too,” he admitted, biting his bottom lip. 

Minho sighed again, pulling him in and pressing their foreheads together. 

“Fuck…” he whispered, cupping his cheek. 

Jisung jumped, hearing the crowd cheer loudly. It must have been the end of the game, and the home team must have won. When Minho pulled away, his anxious face was back tenfold. 

“Jisung, you have to leave, now, okay?” 

Jisung’s heart burned at that, seeing Minho’s serious eyes.

“Wait, what?” He tried not to sound offended, but he was already kicking him out after what they had just done. 

“My dad always comes to find me after the game, and if he knows I’m fucking around, he’s going to kill me.”

Jisung’s smile completely faded. 

“Fucking around.” He repeated, and that made Minho wince. He must have seen the hurt on his face because he instantly pressed a kiss to his forehead.  

“Fuck, Jisung, I didn’t mean it like that. You know I—”

“Whatever.” 

He couldn’t help his snappiness. His heart hurt at his words. He didn’t like being pushed away. 

“Don’t be pissed at me.” He sighed, and Jisung shrugged. 

He fixed his sweater, and pushed his hands off. 

“I’m not,” he said, and Minho didn’t need to be a genius to figure out he was lying. 

“Look, I’ll call you later. I promise.” 

Jisung bit his lip, as Minho continued to try and get him to leave. He knew it was unfair for him to be upset, but he was just so vulnerable with him, and now he was trying to get him to disappear. He knew baseball came before him. He promised him he would understand, but he couldn’t help his pout. 

“Fine.” 

He turned to leave before Minho could kiss him again. He heard him let out a frustrated breath, but Jisung was bothered and a little hurt. Just because he said he was okay with being second in his priorities, didn’t mean he had to like it. 

He was almost out the door, but before he could push through it, he looked over his shoulder. Minho’s hurt face made his heart clench. 

“You played well, Minho, and your dad should be proud of you.” 

Minho’s eyes went a little wide, and a blush was now on his cheeks. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even nod. He just turned, with that anxious expression taking over his face. 

Jisung sighed as he left the clubhouse. He was a bit sore, and he couldn’t believe he just kicked him out after what they had done. He hated that Minho changed so much whenever his dad was around. 

He knew he was probably going to yell at him, like he did in the parking lot last time. Minho’s nervous face let him know that. 

He wished he knew how to make him realize that just because he didn’t meet his dad’s expectations, that didn’t mean he was worthless as a baseball player. Unfortunately, he seemed to be deep in his head, planting that seed to make him doubt himself. 

He remembered his intense eyes as he scolded him. Minho had been dealing with that his entire life, trying to prove his worth by living up to his expectations. 

When he made his way back to the field, Hyunjin was looking at him with extreme confusion. 

“Dude, where the heck did you go? You missed the end of the game.” 

He could have told him, but he was afraid he might cause a scene if he gave him too many details at the moment. 

“I went to see Minho.” 

He left it at that as Felix came running over to them, swooping Hyunjin up in an excited hug and kissing him deeply. 

Jisung congratulated him, and hoped he didn’t sound too disappointed. 

He couldn’t get Minho out of his head, desperately wishing he could do something to keep his father’s discouraging voice out of his mind. 

Chapter Text

Jisung was losing his mind. He hadn’t heard from Minho in two days. He hadn’t seen him since he had kicked him out of the locker room after the game, after everything they had done. He said he would text him later that evening, but he never heard from him. He was getting worried and frustrated. He had disappeared in the same way the last time his dad came to watch one of his games.

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything to Felix either. He didn’t want him to think badly about Minho after he just convinced him that he was actually a good guy. He wanted to ask him if he had been at his dorm, but he would definitely think it was weird if he were to ask him that. He would definitely question him, and there was no way he could lie to Felix again. But he desperately needed to know though. He made his way over to their dorm when he knew Felix wasn’t around, but no one had answered. 

It was Tuesday, and he was sitting in the courtyard trying to read his book. He couldn’t focus at all. He kept looking up, hoping that Minho would come by. He checked his phone every other minute, waiting for him to call. His heart was starting to ache. 

He hadn’t seen him on campus all day, and he tried not to seem too sad and disappointed when he walked home with Hyunjin after classes. Apparently he was really bad at hiding his feelings, because he was able to tell something was wrong immediately. 

“You’ve been moping for two full days, what’s going on?” Hyunjin asked, knocking their shoulders together. Jisung sighed, gripping the straps on his bag around his shoulders tightly. 

“I haven’t heard from Minho since the game on Sunday,” he told him. Hyunjin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You’re serious?” 

Jisung nodded slowly.

“His dad is in town, and I guess he’s kind of an asshole, so I think that might have something to do with it. The same thing happened last time he was here. I—I don’t know, I just wish he would call me or something.” 

He could see Hyunjin give him a sympathetic glance. 

“Has Felix seen him?”

“I haven’t asked. I don’t want him to get involved. I know he’ll get pissed if he thinks Minho is acting like a dick towards me.”

“But he is acting like a dick,” Hyunjin said carefully. That made Jisung sigh.

“He’s not…he’s just….” he trailed off, not sure what to say. Sometimes, he really didn’t understand Minho, and it made it difficult to defend him. 

“Ignoring your boyfriend for two full days is kind of a dick move.” 

Jisung winced, because usually Hyunjin was on his side, but this time he clearly wasn’t. 

“I know.” He was defeated, and he let his frown overtake his face. Hyunjin’s expression matched his, as he placed an arm around his shoulder.

“Look, how about we get some dinner? I know that’ll cheer you up,” he suggested, and Jisung tried to give him an appreciative smile. 

He hated that his eyes were glued to his phone, waiting for him to call. Hyunjin ended up flipping his phone over for him, giving him a soft grin. He knew he couldn’t dwell. If Minho wanted to contact him, then he would. 

It just hated the way it hurt, knowing that he wasn’t calling. 

It was Thursday night, and Jisung was laying in his bed. He hadn’t heard from Minho yet, and he was so frustrated that he couldn’t stop the few irritated tears from escaping his eyes. He called and texted him again and again, but he wouldn’t pick up. 

He sighed, deciding that he would try and get some sleep, because the last few nights he had stared at his phone waiting and waiting for it to light up with Minho’s name. 

Hyunjin felt bad leaving him alone, knowing he was wallowing in his misery. Felix suggested date night, and of course Jisung wasn’t going to let him stay behind just to comfort him. Besides, he would get suspicious if he did. Felix had mentioned that Minho had missed out on practice, and Jisung had to just brush it off, saying Minho told him he was busy and went back home for the week. That’s where he had been last time, so that was where he was assuming he was again. 

He had fallen asleep, finally getting the rest he had missed out on the last few days. Unfortunately, he was startled out of his slumber when there were two loud knocks on his door. He blinked his eyes awake, checking his phone for the time. He felt his heart skip when he saw three texts from Minho and a missed call. He instantly hopped out of bed and answered the door. 

When he opened it, Minho was standing there, with his hair a little wet. Jisung could hear the rain splattering outside their tiny dorm window. Minho immediately grabbed him in a tight hug. Jisung let out a gasp, as he felt his soaked jacket press to his skin and his wet hair tickle his cheek. 

He crushed him closer to his chest, if that were even possible, causing all the air to deflate from his lungs from the pressure. He gently wrapped his arms around him, grasping onto his damp clothes and clenching it into his fingers. 

“Jisung.” He sounded so relieved to see him that he felt all the anger from the last four days drain from his heart. He was left feeling hurt and defeated.

“What the hell, Minho…” he breathed out, sadly. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” he apologized, and Jisung felt his heart ache hearing his pained tone. He pulled him inside so the door could close behind him. Minho refused to let go, and Jisung felt him shaking a little. 

He didn’t know what to say. All his emotions were screaming at him. He was angry for a split second when he first saw him, but that immediately changed when he saw the distraught look on his face. Now, all his feelings were swirling in his stomach, confusing him. He couldn’t just forgive him for disappearing. He couldn’t just pretend that he didn’t spend days worrying about him, and wondering where he was. 

He needed him to talk to him.

“Where have you been?” he asked softly, and he could feel Minho tense up. He pulled back, and Minho was biting his cheek hard. He gently shook his head, and Jisung let out a frustrated breath.

He didn’t want to be harsh, but if he wasn’t going to be honest with him, then he wasn’t sure their relationship was going to work out. He was getting tired of the hidden emotions, and unspoken feelings. Because it was hurting both of them. 

“Look, if you’re not going to talk to me after ignoring me for four days, then you need to leave.” 

Minho winced at his certain tone. He was proud of himself for sounding so assured, because he thought his voice would definitely crack from the pain in his heart. Because the last thing he wanted was for Minho to turn his back and leave, but it was a very good possibility. 

He blinked multiple times at his face, until his gaze fluttered to the ground. He could see him clench his fingers into fists, and he swallowed nervously a few times, like he was trying to say something, but nothing was coming out. 

Jisung sighed, breaking the silence. 

“Minho—”

“I wasn’t…I wasn’t ignoring you,” he finally blurted out. 

Jisung’s anger spiked.

“You weren’t? Then want to explain why you haven’t contacted me in four full fucking days?” He tried not to sound pissed, but he couldn’t help it. 

Minho’s jaw clenched.

“I went back home.” 

He was being vague, and Jisung was getting more irritated by the second.

“So, going back home means your phone stops working?” he sassed. Minho let out a deep breath.

“No, but it means my face gets beaten in if I even think about anything other than practicing,” he snapped back, and that made Jisung flinch with shock. He could see Minho breathing heavily, and Jisung felt all the guilt seep into his skin and poison his heart.

“Minho…” 

“Whatever. I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have even come here.” 

He was visibly irritated now, almost like he was embarrassed for saying that out loud. Jisung was learning quickly that Minho hated being vulnerable. He was building up a wall between them, as his eyes went back to that intense stare, and his body language became rigid. 

Jisung tried to grab him as he turned around, but Minho ripped his arm out of his grasp. He opened the door and immediately slammed it behind him. Jisung felt his throat closing up, and a few tears were pressing at his eyes. 

He had no idea. He just thought his dad was an asshole. He hadn’t even imagined that he would be abusive. 

He wanted to race after him, but he knew it would just irritate him even more. Instead, he crawled into bed and pressed his face into his pillow, trying not to get swallowed whole by the emotions invading his heart. 

Jisung was disappointed when he saw Minho hadn’t texted him back. He apologized last night, but there was no response. He had class in the morning, and he brought his book with him so he could read in the courtyard between lectures. 

He was more than surprised when he saw Minho sitting under the oak tree, with a white and red checkered blanket, and food laying out on it. He slowly approached him, seeing Minho with his textbook in his lap.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, and Minho’s head snapped up to catch his gaze.

“Hey, you’re here.” Jisung’s heart clenched when he saw his relieved face. 

“I’m here every Friday,” he told him, and Minho nodded.

“I know—I was just worried that…maybe you wouldn’t come, because you were upset with me. I know you avoid me sometimes, when I…” he trailed off, his eyes blinking towards the blanket. 

Jisung just shook his head softly. He was glad there weren’t that many people in the courtyard today. It was sunny, but it was a little cold. He tugged his bag off his shoulder and placed it on the blanket. He didn’t miss Minho’s tiny smile as he sat himself down. 

“I brought you lunch, and some strawberries. I know you like those—oh, and I bought you another book.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a hardcover. Jisung bit his lip, realizing it was by his favorite author again. “I went to the bookstore this morning, and I bought two copies. I was thinking, well, that we could both read it, and then if you wanted we could—”

“Minho, I'm not mad.” He smiled at him gently. Minho froze, and his gaze slowly slid to Jisung’s face. He could see him clench his fingers around the book in his hands.

“I was a dick. I should have called you. And…I just want you to know that I’m sorry.” His voice was barely audible, and Jisung bit his lip seeing his regretful face. 

“I know. I’m sorry, too. But…I really wish you would just talk to me.” 

Minho winced, and that pained expression was back on his face.

“What did you want me to say? That my dad’s an asshole? That he gets physical sometimes when I don’t perform the way he wants me to? Well, I don’t want to fucking talk about that shit.” 

Jisung frowned, seeing him wringing his hands together, like he was nervous or something. 

“You could have just told me that you were going back home, and that you wouldn’t have been able to contact me for a few days.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, like you wouldn’t have fucking argued with me if I had said that.”

Jisung took a deep breath, trying not to let his anger get the best of him as well. He had to remind himself that Minho didn’t like being vulnerable, and he was once again constructing that wall to keep his heart safe. 

It was quiet between them for a couple of moments, before Minho ran a hand over his face. 

“I’m—fuck, I’m sorry.” he mumbled, and Jisung could see his shoulders relax a little bit.

“It’s okay, I get it.”

“I just didn’t know what to say. He was—He was so pissed at me. He dragged me to the car and I didn’t have time—and…” 

Jisung’s heart was shattering inside him, seeing Minho so small and hurt. It was painful, seeing that terrified expression on his face, reflecting on what had happened. 

“Babe,” he said softly as he reached out to grab his hand. He could feel him tense, but Jisung was relieved that he didn’t pull away. 

“I’m really sorry, Jisung. I really am.” He apologized again. 

“Just promise me from now on that you’ll talk to me,” he said, and Minho nodded. 

“Okay, yeah. I will. I promise.” 

Jisung smiled, because that was all he could really ask for at the moment. It was quiet again for a few minutes as they held each other's hands, until Minho let out a deep sigh.

“There’s another game this weekend that he’s coming to, so we were practicing all week. There will be scouts there, and I have to pitch well because I need to get scouted. I have to get scouted.” 

Jisung knew he needed to change the subject. He could see Minho whirling in his head, and the stress was radiating from his body. 

He quickly grabbed the book from Minho’s hand and inspected it carefully. Minho managed to find another book he hadn’t read yet, and that made a giant smile spread across his lips. 

“How did you know I haven’t read this one yet?” he asked, and Minho’s eyes went wide as Jisung tapped him on the head with it. He was thrilled to see a smile come to his face. 

“I checked your bookshelf,” he admitted, and that made Jisung chuckle. He leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips, and he felt Minho relax into it instantly. It had been days since he had felt his lips on his, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed them. Jisung went to pull away since they were on campus, but Minho grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in closer. Jisung had to grab onto the front of his shirt to steady himself, and he whined with defiance when Minho tried to slip his tongue into his mouth. 

He successfully pulled away, but Minho pressed his forehead to his. 

“Come back, I missed you,” he breathed out, and Jisung felt his insides stir. 

“Minho, there are people around,” he reminded him. Minho stole another quick kiss, but before he could deepen it, Jisung pushed him back by the shoulder. Minho grabbed his wrist, not letting him get too far away. 

“Can I come over tonight?” he asked desperately, and Jisung felt his heart flutter.

“Hyunjin might be there—”

“Then tell him to leave,” he said sternly, and Jisung rolled his eyes.

“It’s his room too, I can’t just—”

“Then come to my dorm. I’ll gladly tell your brother to get out.” 

Jisung chuckled.

“I’m sure that won’t piss him off at all.” 

“Well, I’m sure he won’t want to stay, unless he wants to hear your desperate little moans as I fuck yo—”

Jisung slapped a hand over his mouth, and he could feel his smirk against his palm. He looked around with a blush on his cheeks, hoping no one heard that. 

“What the fuck, shut your mouth.”

Minho tugged him in by his wrist so he could place a kiss on his cheek. Jisung shivered when he felt his breath on his ear.

“But it’s true. I’ve missed you, baby. I want to hear you beg for me tonight.” 

Jisung couldn’t believe him, saying that shit out loud on campus. He also couldn’t believe himself as he shivered so desperately hearing it. Because he wanted it too. He missed him just as much, and the thought of Minho fucking him so good until he begged was going to send him into a spiral.

“St–Stop it,” he pleaded, because they were in public, and Jisung was seconds away from getting way too turned on in the middle of the courtyard. 

“Why? You don’t want that? You don’t want to be good for me?” 

Jisung hated that smirk on his face. He also hated himself for nodding immediately. 

“No…I–I do…I do want it…” 

He heard Minho’s breathy laugh in his ear.

“I know you do.” 

Jisung was grateful when he pulled away, because his heart was hammering in his chest, and now he needed to adjust the front of his pants. He blushed deeply, but he was just glad to see Minho in the same boat as he shifted around himself. 

“Can we eat now?” Jisung asked, trying to change the subject again. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

His heart fluttered, and he was happy to have Minho back. He could see that loving look in his eye, and his voice was back to that tender and soft tone. He couldn’t believe how much he had missed it. 

Minho grabbed the sandwiches and the strawberries, and Jisung’s stomach grumbled. He felt the happiness spread throughout his body, knowing that Minho had planned a small picnic for them. He brought plates, and some kind of juice as well, pouring it for him into a paper cup. 

“Thanks for bringing all this.” He had to thank him, but Minho just shook his head. He looked a little shy, and Jisung bit his lip with a smile. 

They ate and talked about what they had going on the rest of the day. Minho had a history class after lunch, and Jisung had his dreaded algebra lecture. Minho let him complain about it, listening to him drone on and on about how he hated math and how his professor was kind of a jerk. He was disappointed when he had to leave, because he really didn’t want to let go of Minho’s hand. He helped him fold up the blanket and throw away their trash. 

Minho grabbed him by the waist, tugging him in so he could place another kiss on his lips. He definitely felt him trying not to linger too long, and Jisung pouted when he pulled away.

“What’s that look for?” He chuckled, and Jisung shrugged.

“I don’t want to go to class.” 

“You always yell at me for skipping, so you’re not allowed to skip,” he told him, poking his nose. Jisung swatted at his hand.

“I’m not going to skip…I just wish we could keep hanging out.” He definitely sounded like a child complaining, and Minho’s tiny smirk made him blush.

“Later, sweetheart. We can walk to my dorm after practice. How does that sound?” 

Jisung shrugged. 

“Yeah, fine.” 

Minho placed one last kiss on his lips before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’ll see you later.” 

He turned Jisung by his shoulders and patted him on the butt so he would start walking towards the exit. Jisung gave him a pout and wave, making Minho chuckle as he watched him leave. 

Jisung was sitting on the bleachers, with a book in his lap as the baseball team had their practice. He was trying to read, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the mound where Minho was pitching. He could see that Minho looked incredibly exhausted. 

After practice, he really thought that he was going to collapse. He wondered just what his father had him doing that had him so worn out. They had another game on Sunday, and Minho was starting to look anxious again. 

Their coach had him stop pitching, since he couldn’t throw a single ball down the middle. He tried to argue, but he was hearing none of his complaints. He threw so many wild pitches that Jisung had lost count. He kept rubbing at his eyes, and he kept rolling his left shoulder, like it was uncomfortable. 

Jisung had to hold himself back behind the fence, even though he wanted to desperately run over to him. He had been in a deep conversation with Felix, and he could see Minho trying to hold back his anger and irritation. Honestly, he was proud of him for not lashing out like he normally would. Felix looked concerned, and Minho finally lost his cool when Chan placed a hand on his shoulder. Jisung could see him wince as he pushed him off. His eyes were wild and angry, and no one stopped him as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. 

Jisung couldn’t help but notice it was his right shoulder, and not his left. He looked furious as he made his way towards the fence. His face softened immediately upon seeing him though. He reached out and placed his hand on top of his head, and smiled at him gently. 

“Ready to go?” 

He couldn’t read his tone, but Jisung just nodded. 

It was kind of quiet on their way home, with just a small conversation about what they had wanted for dinner. Jisung knew he shouldn’t bring it up, but he was worried. Something was wrong with his shoulder, and maybe he could hide it from Felix, Chan and the rest of the team, but he couldn’t hide it from him. He knew he couldn’t come right out and ask either, because he would definitely get met with an irritated response, or he would try and shrug it off like he had no idea what he was talking about. 

“Do you think you could hold my bag for me?” he asked, and Minho definitely flinched. 

“Why? Are your hands broken?” He was trying to hide his nervousness with a joke, but he couldn’t fool him. 

“Here, just hold it for a second. I have to fix my shoe.” 

He threw it onto his left shoulder, and Minho let out a pained groan. Jisung’s bag immediately hit the ground with a thud, since Minho had to shrug it off due to the pain. Minho was breathing heavily as he winced. He was clenching his fingers, like the pain was too much. 

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” he asked, and Minho shook his head.

“No, I’m just sore.” 

Jisung glared at him.

“Don’t lie to me, Minho.” 

Minho matched his glare, staring right back at him with those intense eyes.

“I said, I’m fine.” 

He was so damn stubborn.

“You couldn’t even throw today. I watched you, and you looked like you were in pain the entire time. Why are you lying? If you’re hurt, you shouldn’t be playing.” 

Minho’s eyes went wide and furious. 

“Would you mind your own fucking business? I’m not hurt, I told you. I’m just sore, so leave me the fuck alone.” 

Jisung bit his lip hard. That harsh tone always stabbed right into him. He could feel the tears press at his eyes, and he couldn’t deal with him acting like a dick anymore. 

He grabbed his bag from the ground, and immediately began walking away. His heart was aching, but if he wasn’t going to talk to him and be honest with him, then he was done. 

“Fucking—goddammit. Jisung, wait .” 

He could hear Minho running after him. He grabbed him by the wrist to bring him to a halt but Jisung ripped his arm out of his grasp. 

“I thought you promised me you would talk to me, but that was clearly a fucking lie,” he snapped, and he could see Minho clench his teeth. 

“I didn’t lie, I just—” 

“I know you’re hurt, Minho. I’m not stupid. If you don’t want to talk to me about things, then—then I can’t do this anymore.” 

He tried not to get choked up as he said it, but every time it hurt worse and worse. Minho would lash out, and he would feel the effects of it. He had promised him he would talk to him, but apparently those were empty words. 

Minho’s eyes went wide, but he stood there frozen. After a few moments of him still not saying anything, Jisung let out a sigh of disappointment. He swallowed down the pain in his heart, because he had to stand his ground. 

“Fine. Then we’re done.” 

He turned to leave again, but Minho immediately grabbed him by the tail of his shirt.

“I hurt myself when I was practicing at home with my dad,” he blurted out, and Jisung felt the relief fill him, hearing that honesty pour out of him. He turned around, and Minho’s anxious expression was on his face again. “I thought it would be better after I slept on it, but it’s—it’s getting worse. I think I might have torn something, but I have to play this weekend. If I don’t play, then…” 

He blinked multiple times, and Jisung could see he was holding his tears back. He looked so distraught that Jisung felt his heart shatter. 

“Minho, if you keep playing on a hurt shoulder, then you’ll damage it, and then you’ll never recover, or you’ll need surgery.” He tried to reason with him, and Minho shook his head.

Felix had been through a few injuries himself. He remembered attending one of his doctor’s appointments, and Felix was pissed when Jisung ratted him out for still playing baseball in their backyard, even when he was told not to. The doctor had scolded him for not letting his injury heal before continuing to play, because he ran the risk of damaging it forever. 

“I just need to pitch on Sunday, and then I’ll tell coach that I hurt it.” 

Jisung shook his head slowly. There was no way. He couldn’t pitch a game in the condition he was in. It was a dangerous idea.  

“Minho…you can’t. You can barely throw.” 

“I have no fucking choice, Jisung. Please, you have to understand.” He grabbed him tightly, and his desperate eyes were stealing Jisung’s breath. He had never seen him so anguished. “We have tomorrow off. I can use it to rest. I won’t practice at all, but please, promise me you won’t say anything. Please, don’t tell your brother.” 

Felix definitely noticed too. Minho must have been lying to him right before they left practice. 

And he knew he shouldn’t agree to it, but he didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t his decision to make, even if he desperately wished he could change Minho’s mind.

“I won’t say anything,” he promised him, and Minho let out a breath of relief. “But you better promise me that you’ll rest all day tomorrow, and as soon as Sunday is over, if you don’t tell your coach, then I’m telling Felix.” He threatened him, and Minho nodded multiple times. 

“I will, you have my word.” 

Jisung hated that he looked grateful. He also wished he could punch his dad right in the face for terrifying Minho to death. He would rather play on a painful shoulder, rather than face his dad’s backlash out of pure fear. He clenched his fingers into fists, wishing he could do something, but he knew he couldn’t. 

Minho gently reached out and intertwined their fingers, clasping their hands together. Jisung felt his heart melt, feeling him squeeze gently. 

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to yell at you…”

“Start being honest with me, okay?” 

Minho nodded, and he could see his cheeks flush a little.

“Yeah, okay,” he whispered, and Jisung squeezed his hand back even tighter. Minho smiled, as Jisung tugged him along the sidewalk. 

When they reached his dorm, Minho had to shower. Jisung took out his new book as he waited for him, since he didn’t get to read any of it at the field during their practice. He noticed the matching book on Minho’s bedside table. He could see little tabs sticking out of the pages. Minho must have been annotating it. Jisung felt his heart flutter as he flipped his copy open to the first page, seeing Minho’s handwriting in pink on the page.

I know I keep hurting your heart, and I know I’m not good enough for someone as sweet as you. But I’ll keep trying to be, because that’s what you do when you care about someone this much, right?

Jisung felt his heart squirm its way into his throat. He reread it over and over, feeling the ink that raised the page with his fingertips. He slammed it shut and immediately placed it in his lap as he heard the door knob moving. 

Minho walked in with just a towel wrapped around his waist, and Jisung couldn’t believe he walked all the way back to his dorm like that. He blushed as Minho sat down on his bed beside him, tapping the book in his hands with his fingertip. 

“How is it so far?” he asked, and Jisung could see him looking a little nervous. 

“I—I only read the first page,” he admitted. He knew he saw his little message, he could tell by the way he was biting his lip. Minho nodded, but before he could get off the bed, Jisung grabbed his wrist. “Minho, you are good enough.” 

Minho flushed, and Jisung couldn’t help his smile, seeing him suddenly get shy. 

“How can you say that when I keep hurting you?”

“Because I know you care about me. And you always try to make it right.” 

He didn’t say anything, and for the first time, Jisung must have stolen Minho’s words from his chest. Jisung leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

He pulled back, but Minho didn’t let him get far as he grabbed him by the chin and connected their lips in a soft kiss. Minho kissed him deeper, and Jisung grabbed his shoulders. 

Minho broke the kiss though, hissing in pain as Jisung accidentally touched the tender area.

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry,” he apologized, immediately removing his hand. Minho winced as he tried to move it a little, and Jisung was starting to get incredibly worried about him pitching on Sunday.

“It’s okay. It’s just—fuck, a little sore right now.” 

Jisung also saw how exhausted he looked. He wanted to kiss him, and he was definitely feeling a little desperate for his touch like he had promised him earlier, but there was no way Minho was up for it. He looked like he was going to pass out, from exhaustion and pain. 

“Here, let me grab you some clothes.”

He didn’t let him argue as he jumped off the bed. He quickly found his sweatpants and a t-shirt he could sleep in. He helped Minho put his shirt on, and Jisung felt bad that he couldn’t even raise his arm over his head. Minho had that anxious look on his face again, as he was realizing that his injury was worse than he thought. 

He made him sit so he could blow dry his hair. He also grabbed him some painkillers, a glass of water and an ice pack so he could place it on his shoulder. 

“It’s probably super inflamed and irritated, so put this on it and take these,” he demanded, and Minho gave him a tiny smile. 

“Thank you, doctor.”

Jisung rolled his eyes.

Minho did as he was told, and when he turned to put the glass on his nightstand, he gasped as he felt Minho grab his ass. 

“Baby, come here.” His sultry tone made a shiver run up his spine. He tried to slip his hand around his waist so he could pull him down, but Jisung smacked at him.

“Stop, you need rest,” he told him firmly, and that made Minho groan.

“But I want you,” he murmured, and Jisung knew he had to say no tonight. He didn’t want Minho to get hurt anymore than he already was. 

“Rest, Minho. You’re exhausted, you can barely keep your eyes open.” 

That was true, since his eyes were lidded, and he knew he was struggling to stay awake. Minho successfully grabbed his wrist, without Jisung swatting at him. Jisung allowed himself to be tugged into his bed, and he made sure he didn’t touch his shoulder this time. 

“You’re right, I’m exhausted and in pain, so you could be sweet and take care of me.” 

Jisung’s heart slammed against his ribs as Minho gripped his ass, and he blushed deeply at his words. He wanted to respond, but once again his words were stuck in his throat.

Minho pressed a kiss to his neck, and Jisung shuddered at the softness. 

“You could suck me off, and then ride my cock.” 

He could feel Minho rutting against his thigh, and Jisung shivered at his desperateness. He was hard, but when he glanced over at him, Minho looked so tired. 

“Babe,” he whispered, and Minho just pressed his forehead to Jisung’s cheek. He kissed his jaw a few more times before his hips stopped moving, and his soft breath turned rhythmic. 

Jisung tried not to laugh at the fact that he just fell asleep so quickly, after talking like that. Although he wasn’t surprised in the slightest. 

He allowed him to nuzzle into his side, as he began to snore slightly. He carefully reached for his book, not wanting to wake him, so he could read a bit before bed. He wasn’t tired himself, and he desperately wanted to read more, craving to read the story that Minho had picked out for him. 

He immersed himself in the text the best he could, but he couldn’t help getting pulled back to reality every now and then as Minho clutched onto him tightly, like he was afraid of letting him go. 

When he woke up, Minho was still sleeping. It was hot, because he was draped over him and the sun was shining in through the window, burning his skin. 

Minho’s hair was sticking up all over the place, and Jisung could see the dark circles under his eyes still. He ended up laying next to him for a while, not wanting to disturb or wake him. He hoped his shoulder was feeling better after a night of rest and hoped the painkillers helped, even just a little. 

Jisung jumped when he felt Minho grab him and pull him tight to his chest. He smiled, feeling him press a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Good morning,” Jisung mumbled against his skin. Minho hummed into his hair, and tugged him even closer. 

“Morning. I’m sorry that I literally passed out on you last night.”

Jisung pulled back so he could see his face. He still looked exhausted, and he reached up to press a hand to cheek. 

“It’s fine, you were exhausted,” he said with a smile. “How’s your shoulder feeling today?” 

Minho sighed at that question. 

“It’s still a little uncomfortable, but better than yesterday.” 

Jisung nodded, and decided to believe he wasn’t lying. He wasn’t going to let him practice, even if he said he was completely healed. He needed a break, because he was clearly overworking himself. 

Jisung sat up and stretched, and he could feel Minho grip his wrist. He looked behind him to see him smiling softly. 

“What?” he asked, since he was staring. 

“Want to go on a date with me today?” 

Jisung felt his heart flutter as he brushed his thumb over his knuckles. 

“A date?” 

“That’s what I said, yeah.” 

He pulled his arm gently making him fall onto his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, and Jisung blushed at the tender gesture. 

“You promised me you would rest today.” 

Minho pouted at that. 

“Are you saying you don’t want to go?” he asked, and Jisung quickly shook his head. 

“No, I do, but—”

“Okay, good, then we should get up. I need coffee.” 

He smiled as Minho kissed him once more before he pushed up off the bed. He didn’t miss the wince on his face though as he used his left arm to help himself up. He really hoped he wasn’t lying about the pain. He watched him carefully as he dressed himself, seeing him bite his lip as he lifted his arm to get his hand through the sleeve of his red hoodie. He threw on a pair of black sweatpants and a pair of sneakers. He looked comfortable, and stupidly hot, especially when he ruffled his messy hair. 

At least he wasn’t going to the field to practice. He honestly wasn’t even sure if he could throw today, even if he was determined to. He could barely move it as it was. 

He decided that spending the day with him was actually a good idea, so he could keep an eye on him and make sure he wouldn’t go anywhere near, or even think about, touching a baseball.

He jumped when there was a knock on the door—three quick loud bangs. 

Minho quickly grabbed the handle and swung it open. 

“I texted you saying it was fine to come in, so what the hell are you banging on the door for?” he asked as he rolled his eyes. 

Felix walked in with a shrug.

“May I remind you of the last time I came in and—”

“No you may not, so shut up.” Jisung blushed, glaring at him. 

“It’s good to see you too, Jisungie. I’m glad you’re dressed this time.” 

Minho walked by him and pushed him in the back of the head. Felix tried to hit him back, but Minho dodged it with a smirk. 

“Ready to go?” Minho directed at Jisung, waiting for him to hop out of bed. He nodded and grabbed his bag. He needed to go back to his dorm, get changed and brush his teeth before they went anywhere though. 

“Are you going to the field today to practice?” Felix asked, and Jisung could see he looked skeptical. 

“No, I’m taking your brother on a date,” he told him, and Felix grimaced. Jisung blushed when he glanced over at him as Minho interlaced their fingers and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“This is still extremely weird to me, just so you know.” He sighed, shaking his head. Jisung rolled his eyes. 

“I felt the same way when you started dating my roommate. Oh, and remember when I came home that one time when guys were fu—”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Felix interrupted him with a tight smile before he could finish that sentence. Jisung shrugged, because two could play at that game. Besides, he was still just as scarred as he was. 

Minho chuckled and Jisung waved as they left the room. 

They made their way back to Jisung’s dorm so he could change and brush his teeth, but he wasn’t sure what to put on since Minho hadn’t elaborated on what they were doing or where they were going. He had asked him, but for some reason, he was keeping it a secret. 

“Just wear something cute, but comfortable,” he told him as he laid on his bed, waiting for him to finish rifling through his drawers. 

“Something like this?” He held up a fluffy light blue and brown striped sweater, since the air was definitely chilly today. Minho glanced up with a smile on his face.

“Perfect.” 

He gave him a thumbs up, and Jisung quickly threw it on with a pair of dark faded jeans and a pair of black boots. He threw on a pair of glasses just for looks, and a dark colored hat since he hadn’t had time to do his hair. When he was ready Minho grabbed him by the waist. 

“You’re so fucking cute, look at you.” He gripped his chin between his thumb and forefinger, and Jisung couldn’t help but blush. 

The walk wasn’t long since it was just to the center of town. Jisung hadn’t had much time to explore since he had been bogged down by classes and frequenting Felix and Minho’s baseball practices and games, so he was looking forward to it.

He held Minho’s right hand, so as to not disturb his left shoulder at all, happily skipping his way down the sidewalk. They had never really been on a date before, so he was feeling a little bubbly about it. 

“Can you tell me where we’re going now?” he asked, and Minho shook his head.

“You’re so impatient, you know that, right?” he countered, and Jisung rolled his eyes.

“I just want to know,” he grumbled. 

Minho laughed.

“Well, I’ll tell you that I passed it on the way home from my parents house the other day, and I thought, ‘hey, I bet Jisung would love this place.’”

Jisung’s heart melted when Minho looked over at him with a smile full of adoration. 

“Okay, now I really want to know where we’re going.”

Minho chuckled at his pleading round eyes. 

“We’re almost there.” 

Jisung squeezed his hand tightly upon seeing it. The sign that read Open For Business! was blinking brightly at him. He could see the giant book shelves, people drinking coffee, and adorable cats through the large glass windows. It was a cafe and bookstore, and Jisung was about to spring out of his shoes, wanting to desperately get in there. 

“Oh my god.”

“They just opened. The owners live upstairs, and they have a few cats that apparently hang around, and you can pet them while you read. Pretty cool, huh?” 

Minho looked just as excited as Jisung did. 

“This is—Holy shit, can we please go inside?” he pleaded, seeing a cat meow and paw at him through the window. Minho smiled wide.

“Yes, I need a coffee, right now.” 

Minho told him he could look around as he stood in line and ordered their coffees for them. He couldn’t believe how tall the ceiling was. The bookshelves were so high that you needed a ladder to reach the top. It was mesmerizing. He couldn’t help but make his way over to his favorite section, pulling out a few books that he knew had just been released within the past month. He had been so busy, he rarely had time to get to the bookstore recently. He also really had no room for them back at his dorm, but if he had to shove them under his bed for the time being, then he would. 

He didn’t mean to stack his arms full, and Minho laughed seeing him carrying seven books back to their table. 

“Find something you like?” he asked, and Jisung beamed brightly at him. 

“I have been dying to get my hands on a copy of this romance book recently. I heard it was really, really good. It’s not by my favorite author, but a definite close second. Oh, and I also knew this one was coming out last week, but I didn’t get a chance to pick it up. I could have ordered it online, but I kind of like coming to the store to buy them. It makes it more fun getting to pick it up off the shelf myself.” 

He was definitely talking way too much, and he never did that. He blushed a little, biting his lip to silence his jabbering. But with Minho, the words seemed to flow easily. He didn’t have to worry about not knowing what to say. He knew he wouldn’t make fun of him, and he was always genuinely interested in whatever Jisung wanted to talk about. He felt his heart flutter when Minho picked up one of the books he had placed on the table, and began reading the summary on the back.

“This one sounds interesting, maybe I’ll buy it too,” he suggested, and that made Jisung smile impossibly wider. 

Jisung sipped his coffee and he hummed happily as it warmed up his insides. It was a perfect day to sit inside and read, since it was a little bit chilly. Minho let him read for a while, but he could barely focus since he could feel his eyes on him the entire time. He was grateful when one of the cats came up and brushed against his legs, grabbing his attention. 

“Hello there, pretty baby.” He stroked the cat's head, and Jisung couldn’t stand how cute and soft he looked, especially when he used that sweet and tender voice. 

Jisung knew not a lot of people would entertain him at a bookstore all afternoon, so he was incredibly grateful, especially since Minho didn’t look bored at all. 

“Thanks for bringing me here.” He knew he sounded shy, and he wasn’t sure why he was, but no one ever brought him on such a perfect date. 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m happy you’re happy.” 

Jisung flushed as Minho reached out to brush his thumb over his cheek. 

And he could get used to this. Someone who understood him. Someone who made his heart race beautifully. Someone who looked at him with that loving gaze. Someone who cared about him wholeheartedly. 

Jisung actually had to drag Minho out of the cafe since he couldn’t stop petting the cats.  

“We have to come back,” Minho said, waving sadly at the orange one in the window as they walked away. Jisung chuckled, grabbing at his hand and intertwining their fingers. 

“We absolutely do need to come back. I loved it there.” 

Minho looked relieved when he said that. He then glanced at the heavy bag that had Jisung’s eight new books inside—he had grabbed one more before he hit the checkout. 

“Do you want me to carry that?” he asked, and Jisung shook his head. 

“No, because I want to hold your hand and your other shoulder is hurt.” 

Minho looked like he was about to argue, but Jisung refused to let him.

“It’s not even that heavy. I got it.” 

He raised it up and down, like he was lifting a dumbbell, trying to show him that it was easy to hold. He tried not to let his arm shake, because it actually was kind of heavy. Minho rolled his eyes with a soft smile.

They had spent hours at the cafe, and he was feeling pretty hungry. He was hoping to change into sweatpants, and entice Minho into ordering some kind of takeout when they got back. 

They walked to his dorm, since Jisung knew Hyunjin was on campus, preparing for another art show. Since he was such an amazing artist, he kept getting invited to all these exhibitions.  He was constantly busy these days. 

As soon as the door closed behind them,  Jisung was being pressed up against it. Minho had his lips on his in an instant, capturing his bottom lip between his. He reflexively grabbed onto Minho’s shoulders, causing him to groan in discomfort. 

Jisung pulled back, seeing Minho wince with pain on his face. 

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry, I forgot—”

Minho had his mouth back on his before he could even finish his sentence. Minho gripped his chin, tilting his head back as he slipped his tongue past his lips. Instead of touching his shoulders, this time he desperately clutched to his hoodie, clenching the fabric in his fists. 

When Minho pulled back, Jisung let out a whiny breath of discontent. 

“I didn’t get to have you yesterday,” he whispered into his mouth. “And I want to fuck you so bad.”

Jisung shivered intensely. He tried to stay sane, but his mind was starting to slip. 

They didn’t yesterday because he was exhausted, and because Jisung was worried about his shoulder. And he was still worried.  

“But, Minho…your—your shoulder—”

Minho deepened their kiss, causing Jisung to whine a little as he interrupted him again. Minho gently pulled him towards the bed, keeping their lips connected as he sat down on the edge. He tugged Jisung into his lap, forcing his knees to the side of his thighs. He didn’t want to disturb his shoulder again, so he kept one hand twisted in the front of the hoodie, while the other gripped his upper arm. 

“Baby, tell me I can.” 

Jisung gasped as Minho slipped his hands into his jeans, gripping his ass tightly. His fingertips were digging harshly into his skin, but Jisung wouldn’t lie that he kind of liked the roughness of it. 

“I—I don’t want you to hurt yourself even more.” 

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine, sweetheart.” 

Jisung jumped as Minho’s fingers suddenly pressed against his opening. He felt himself blush, as the tiniest whimper escaped his lips accidentally. 

“Ah, you missed me here, haven’t you?” he teased, tickling his rim slightly. 

He felt the air leave his lungs, and he was blushing like crazy. Jisung could see his smirk, and Minho was trying to catch his gaze which had flicked down to his lap. 

“Jisung?” He tried to grab his attention, knowing he was waiting for some kind of affirmative response. He knew he wouldn’t continue unless he said something. He could already feel his hands retreating from his pants due to his quietness. 

“Yes, I’ve—I’ve missed you,” he blurted out, clenching his eyes shut. Minho slowly trailed his fingers back to where he desperately needed him. 

“Yeah, baby?” He sounded pleased. Jisung was thrilled. He nodded multiple times, and Minho pressed a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was thumping wildly under his skin. 

Jisung whined, feeling Minho suck another tiny bruise on his neck. He didn’t even bother to fight it though, because he knew Minho liked seeing his skin marked a little from his lips, and Jisung desperately wanted to please him tonight. He melted into him, allowing him to touch him wherever he wanted. 

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.” 

Jisung’s entire body shook. 

“I—I want you to fuck me.”

He answered immediately, without hesitation. Minho's smirk had blown wide. Fuck, he hadn’t realized how badly he needed him. He was acting so desperate, without even a thought. 

“God, you are so good for me.” 

Jisung bit his lip, digging his fingernails into Minho's skin. He loved the praise so much he felt his head swirling. He needed more. 

Minho seemed surprised when Jisung reconnected their lips. But he wanted to taste Minho’s moans as he grinded his ass against him. He could feel how hard Minho was underneath him, and he desperately needed to touch him.

He kissed him once more before pulling back. He went to slip off his lap, but Minho had a tight grip on his thighs, holding him still. 

“Where are you going?” 

Jisung’s heart flipped, hearing him sound so desperate. 

“I just wanted to take my pants off,” he mumbled, and he wasn’t sure why that was so embarrassing, but he blushed deeply. Minho quickly reached between them, unbuttoning his jeans for him. He yanked them down, halfway past his thighs, and Jisung gasped feeling the cool air touch his skin. 

Minho’s hands were still on his ass, but instead of a harsh grip, he changed to a gentle caress. He could feel the roughness of his hands from hours of baseball practice. Jisung gasped when Minho’s palm lifted and connected with his cheek, causing a loud slap to ring throughout the room. 

Jisung’s eyes went wide, and he grasped Minho’s arm tightly. Minho glanced at him carefully, gauging his reaction. 

“Remember what to say if you want to stop?” Minho asked, and Jisung nodded feverishly. 

“Stop,” he replied, and Minho pressed a kiss to his neck, right where he left that mark just a few minutes ago. 

“Good.”

Minho grabbed him around the waist and flipped him with only one arm. He placed him on his knees, with his cheek falling against the mattress. Sometimes he forgot how strong he was, easily moving his body like a rag doll. He quickly finished yanking Jisung’s jeans off his legs, and he shoved his shirt up so it was scrunched up his back, near his neck. 

Jisung could feel his fingers trailing over his skin gently, from the top of his spine and all the way down to his tailbone. He could feel Minho’s eyes taking in every inch of him, and he was starting to squirm after a couple of minutes. 

Before he could ask him why he was just staring at him, he felt Minho grab his hand. He jumped when his fingers were suddenly being taken into his mouth, the wetness spreading over them. He could feel his tongue twist in between them, and he felt himself flush when he pulled them out, knowing they were dripping. 

“You know how I finger you open? I want to see you do it yourself.” 

Jisung’s heart stopped beating, and he felt the embarrassment flood his system. He had never done something like that before, especially not with someone watching him. 

“But—”

He yelped when Minho smacked his hand over his ass, his skin stinging slightly with the slight pain. 

“Are you arguing, Jisung? I thought you knew better by now.”

He let out a shaky breath as he pressed his face into the sheets. 

“I’m not—I swear, I just—don’t know how…” 

Minho grabbed his soaked hand then, guiding it to where Minho wanted it. 

“What do you mean you don’t know how?” he asked gently, forcing Jisung to press his index finger to his rim. He was breathing heavily, and he could feel himself starting to shake. Minho never failed to make him nervous. Every time he slept with him, he experienced something new, and it always surprised him how much he ended up loving it. 

“Here, I’ll help at first, but then I want to watch you, okay?” He could hear the smirk on his lips. 

Jisung nodded, and he let out a loud gasp when Minho helped him press his own finger inside him. It was a strange feeling, and definitely not the same as Minho’s rough and thicker ones. 

It was difficult to reach, but he didn’t complain, because he knew Minho wouldn’t like it. He wanted to please him, desperately, so he kept shoving his finger deeper and deeper until it reached as far as it could go. 

“There you go, what did you mean you didn’t know how? You’re doing a good job.”

He moaned at that, liking Minho’s sweet praising tone. God, he wanted even more of it. 

He could feel Minho retract his hand, and he could see him tug his pants off so he could get a hand around himself. He was leaning back on his heels, and Jisung felt all the breath leave his body at the sight. He was so big, and honestly, he was pretty sure his tiny fingers wouldn’t be enough to get himself ready for him. He had to press his face back into the sheets as he started to stroke himself.

“Come on, sweetheart. Add another one for me.” 

He whined softly, not knowing why that voice turned him so compliant, but he immediately listened, squeezing his middle finger past his rim. He shivered at the feeling. He never thought having Minho’s eyes watch him as he fingered himself would turn him on so much, but he was aching between his legs.

He did the best he could, keeping his hips up and shoving his fingers as deep as they could go. He was definitely losing his pace, feeling his wrist getting tired. He let out a loud cry when Minho’s hand came down to smack at his skin. He could feel the slight pain ripple through his body. 

“Why are you slowing down? Keep going.” 

He was demanding and stern, and he hated that he sounded disappointed. Jisung quickened his fingers, desperately wanting to please him, even if the muscles in his arm were burning. He raised his hips even higher, and he felt his heart flutter, feeling Minho caress the skin he had just slapped. 

“Perfect. That’s better.” 

Jisung’s core shook, and he was glad his face was buried into the mattress because the satisfied smile that spread on his face was embarrassing.

He wasn’t sure if Minho would want him to without permission, but he decided to add a third finger, desperately hoping he wouldn’t get upset. He felt his insides melt when he heard Minho chuckle lightly. 

“You’re so fucking good, Jisung. Look how desperate you are, it’s so fucking hot.” 

Jisung clenched his eyes shut as he fucked himself on three of his fingers. It definitely wasn’t the same as having Minho’s fingers inside him, but he was trying his best. He probably wasn't doing a good job either, but Minho seemed to be satisfied, since he kept caressing his cheek. He knew he was blushed all over his body, and he knew he looked ridiculous and pathetic, but he didn’t care in the slightest at the moment. 

He gasped when he felt Minho reach out to touch his spread rim with his own finger. Jisung moaned loudly as he pushed in. The stretch was a little uncomfortable, but his cock twitched at the feeling. Jisung froze, not sure what to do. 

Minho must not have liked that, because another slap was being administered to his cheek. 

“Why’d you stop? Did I say to stop?” 

“No—you didn’t. I’m sorry, Minho, I—”

“Instead of being sorry, just do as you’re told.” 

Jisung nodded desperately, and he began moving his fingers again. He could feel Minho’s hand bumping into his as they both stretched him. He felt his heart fluttering with every gentle caress of his skin. He whimpered when he felt Minho trying to add another finger.

The stretch was too much. He had never taken that many before.

“Minho—I don’t think I—”

“Why are you being so disobedient today?” He interrupted him.

That made Jisung bite his lip incredibly hard.

“I’m not…” He sounded like he was about to cry. It was rather pathetic. 

“Do you want to stop?” he asked seriously, and Jisung quickly shook his head. He didn’t want to stop at all. “Words, Jisung.” 

“No—I don’t want to stop. I want it.” 

“Then quit arguing and fighting me. Do you understand?” 

Jisung felt the tears welling in his eyes. 

“Yes, I understand.” 

He let out a whiny moan as Minho pressed his second finger beside his other three. It was a tight stretch, and Jisung’s breathing was erratic. He was trying to get used to the feeling, and even though Minho went slowly, it was still a lot for him. 

After a few minutes though, with Minho caressing his skin, and whispering sweet praises into the air, he felt his body loosen up and he was feeling incredible. Minho pressed deep, along with Jisung’s fingers in a perfect rhythm. Jisung was only seconds away from cumming, completely untouched due to the intense pressure against that spot inside him.

Minho must have noticed because he quickly retracted his fingers, causing Jisung’s lungs to deflate. He still had his fingers inside his body, unsure if he should move them or not. He was relieved when Minho grabbed his wrist and pulled them away.

He could feel his rim twitching with the air swirling around him. He shivered, feeling Minho touch gently at it. 

“Fuck, Jisung,” he whispered, and he felt that embarrassment overtake his body again. He was staring, and he knew he had a perfect view of his rim gaping and waiting for him. He desperately wanted to cover himself, but he knew Minho wouldn’t like it. 

He felt himself being pushed over softly, and he was now laying on his right side. He felt Minho shimmy up behind him, and he felt his hand slip underneath his left knee, lifting his leg a little. He felt Minho press a kiss to his shoulder, and his chest was now flat against his back.

“I want you close to me. I want to tell you how perfect you are as I fuck you,” he whispered into his ear. Those words electrocuted his body. Minho slipped his hand underneath him, pressing his arm across his chest. His fingers came up to grip his chin, so he could turn his face towards him. 

Minho pressed a kiss to his lips, and Jisung moaned into his mouth as he felt him press inside him. His cock stretched him immediately, but since he was prepped well, that initial pain wasn’t there. He could barely catch his breath as Minho pressed in slowly, but as deep as he could. He felt Minho’s hand travel down to his lower stomach, feeling himself there. Jisung knew if he looked down, he could see the swell of his cock, pressed far into him. Minho was big, and one could clearly see that when he was inside him. He placed his hand over Minho’s, and he felt his throat constrict as he fucked in even deeper. 

He felt Minho kiss his neck, and he was definitely creating another bruise, but he didn’t care. He would let him do whatever he wanted at this point. 

He pulled out and slammed back in, and he couldn’t help but let his head fall back against his shoulder. He heard Minho hiss into his ear. Shit. He did it again. 

“I–I’m sor–sorry.” He tried to apologize between thrusts.

“You’re fine baby, just focus here.” He moaned when Minho pressed in deep, cupping the bump that formed when he pushed in all the way. “That feels good, right?” 

Jisung hadn’t even realized he was pushing his ass back against him to get him even deeper, but Minho’s chuckle rang through his ear, grabbing his attention. 

“I can’t get any deeper, sweetheart.” 

Jisung shivered, grasping his fingers onto Minho’s thigh. He had his leg high in the air, and he realized that this position was his favorite yet. Minho was close, fucking him deep, whispering into his ear, and making him feel so fucking good. 

“Minho—feels…so good. I—I like it. I—”

“What do you like, huh?” 

“This—This way…” 

Minho halted for a moment, pausing deep inside of him, and Jisung let out a pathetic whine. 

“You like it when I fuck you this way? You like it deep? You like hearing how good you are taking it so well?” 

Jisung was nodding desperately, and he couldn’t believe he was so embarrassingly honest.

“Yes.” 

Minho began fucking him again, and Jisung was struggling to breathe. 

“God, I want to give you everything. I want to make you feel so good. You deserve it, Jisung. You’re so fucking good for me, baby.” 

Jisung blushed at that, feeling it spread all over his chest. He shuddered when Minho grasped him in his hand. 

“Minho— I’m—”

“Cum, sweetheart.” 

He didn’t need to tell him twice. Minho was fucking him fast and deep, and he couldn’t take the feeling anymore. He released all over his bedspread, cumming incredibly hard. He shuddered, feeling his entire body tense. That white hot feeling spread throughout his body, and his mind went blank for a moment as he relished in it. He heard Minho groan into his ear, and he could feel his hips erratically thrusting into him. 

“Shit,” he swore against his skin, causing Jisung to whimper as he bit down on his shoulder a little. He could feel him twitch inside him, gripping his waist tightly as he pulled him as close as he could, taking everything he had deep into him. They were both breathing heavily, coming down from the intense pleasure. 

Jisung couldn’t believe that every single time was even better than the last. Sex with Minho was amazing, and he never would have thought it could be this way. He couldn’t get enough of him. 

He felt Minho press kisses all over his cheek and jaw, finally getting his head back. 

“Hi,” he whispered, and Jisung groaned when he slowly pulled out of him. They were both a mess, and now his bed was filthy as well. 

“Hey,” Jisung mumbled, and it was embarrassing that he didn’t like feeling so empty. 

Minho quickly grabbed a towel to clean them both up. Jisung blushed as Minho tried his best to clean his cum out of him. He was just thankful that he had no comments to make as he wiped him down. Jisung sighed, knowing he was going to have to wash his sheets after just washing them, balling them up and throwing them onto the ground. 

Minho was getting redressed, and Jisung couldn’t help but notice him wincing even more than he was earlier. 

“Your shoulder still hurts,” he mentioned, seeing his uncomfortable expression. 

Minho sighed.

“It’s fine, really.” 

He was obviously lying. 

“Minho—”

“It’ll be fine by tomorrow.” His voice was final, like he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Jisung frowned, and decided he didn’t want to turn their perfect evening into a fight. He knew if he pushed talking about it, Minho would just get angry.

Instead of trying to argue with him, he wrapped his arms around his waist, with a big smile. 

“Want to order food and watch a movie?” he suggested. Minho returned a smile, running his hand through Jisung’s messy hair. 

“Sure, what are you thinking?” 

They spent the evening cuddling, eating delicious food, and watching Jisung’s favorite movie. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten so sleepy. But with Minho’s fingertips swirling gently against his back, it was difficult to keep his eyes open. 

He knew he was slipping into slumber, and he barely registered the lips that were being pressed to his forehead before he drifted off. 

He had slept amazingly. He stretched, and he was glad that he had closed the curtains the night before so the light wasn’t shining directly into his eyes. He stretched his limbs, trying to shake out that excess sleepiness. He panicked immediately, feeling the bed next to him. 

It was empty. 

Minho was gone. He sat up, and looked around the room. His things were gone as well. He clenched his jaw and sighed deeply. He reached for his phone, seeing he had a few texts. 

hey sweetheart

i had to leave for practice early and didn’t want to wake you

i’ll see you at the game later

🩷

His heart dropped a little, knowing there was no way his shoulder was feeling better at all. He left, because he knew there was no way Jisung would agree to let him play if he was showing any kind of discomfort or pain. 

He desperately wanted to tell Felix, but he promised he wouldn’t. He had no idea what to do. He sighed and hopped out of bed, knowing he had to shower and get ready for the game. He was definitely going to get there early, because he knew Minho would be practicing on the mound before it started. He just hoped that he was actually feeling better, because he knew no matter what, he was pitching in that game, and he knew that nothing was going to stop him. 

Chapter Text

He was in an incredible amount of pain. Jisung bit his lip, watching him practice on the mound. He was barely able to throw a pitch straight. He was breathing heavily, and adjusting his jersey near his shoulder after every throw. He could see his bright red cheeks, and it wasn’t from the heat, because it was chilly outside. His shoulder wasn’t better at all, and Jisung was ready to bite through his bottom lip, seeing that anxious look on his face as he tried to pitch the best he could and fight through the pain.

Felix had definitely noticed, but Minho snapped at him when he approached the mound. No one was going to keep him from playing, and Jisung knew that. 

He jumped when he felt someone wrap an arm around his shoulder. He looked over to see Hyunjin smiling wide at him, with Felix’s jersey number painted on both of his cheeks. He looked cute, especially with his hair chalked with the team's colors. 

“What’s up? You look nervous as hell,” he mentioned, and Jisung sighed. He hadn’t told anyone about Minho’s shoulder, and even though he knew he could trust Hyunjin not to say anything, it was probably better to keep his mouth shut, just in case. 

“I just—I just really want them to win,” he said, and he knew he was picking at his fingernails again. 

“Yeah, I know. Me too,” he said. “But I guess there’s a guy on the other team who has an insane batting average. I don’t actually know what that means, but Felix told me this morning.” 

Jisung chuckled.

“It means he gets a lot of hits,” he explained, but Hyunjin didn’t actually look like he cared. 

“Felix also told me he’s like the number one player in the division, and all the scouts are here to see him today.”

Jisung was pretty sure he had heard of him before. He had completely forgotten about other teams and other players ever since Minho had taken over his entire mind. No wonder Minho was so nervous. He was about to face a real competitor, fighting for his spot in the major leagues. There were tons of scouts, and he didn’t want to miss his chance by not playing.

Minho had made his way to the dugout, and he could see him trying to move his shoulder as little as possible. 

The other team took the field, and Jisung could immediately spot the player Hyunjin had been talking about. Seo Changbin. And if his confident and egotistical smirk wasn’t enough to get under the other team's skin, then his giant muscles would definitely send fear through their systems as they went up to bat. He was an incredible player, and he knew it. He was a third baseman, with a powerful arm to take guys out at first like it was no problem. He had a great arm, spectacular fielding, and an outstanding batting average. His on-base percentage was the highest in the division, according to the stats that had popped up on the giant screen, and Jisung was starting to get worried, knowing that Minho was facing such a great player when he was hurt. 

The game started, and Jisung was biting his nails desperately, seeing Minho take the mound. He looked insanely nervous, and he could see him uncomfortably getting ready to throw the ball. He had his hands covering his mouth, waiting for him to throw. 

He let out a breath of relief, seeing the ball sail down into Felix’s glove, and the umpire signaling a strike. He couldn’t read the expression on Minho’s face, but he could definitely see his anxiety was laced with pain. 

The first inning ended, with two strikeouts and a groundout to first base. Jisung clapped gently, while Hyunjin cheered unnecessarily loud next to him. The top of the lineup struck out fast, just like the other team, and Jisung wasn’t sure if he wanted Minho to have more time to rest or if he needed the game to go by quickly, so it could be over. 

He felt his heart skip as Minho threw a few wild pitches. Luckily, Felix was able to stop them, and he even got a few batters to chase, resulting in another strikeout. Although, that pain was even more visible on his face now.

He felt Hyunjin nudge his side.

“Hey, is he alright?” he asked, and Jisung knew there wasn’t any use in lying anymore. Anyone could see that he was struggling. 

“No, he fucked his shoulder up and he refuses not to play.” He knew he sounded a little bitter, but he couldn’t help it. Minho was always working himself too hard, and it was driving Jisung insane. 

“Seriously?” Hyunjin asked, but Jisung just shrugged in response. There was nothing he could do, especially now. 

He was pitching well, somehow, and Jisung could see he was pushing himself. He could see he was sweating profusely from where he sat in the stands, with his hair sticking to his forehead and his red jersey damp. He kept taking his hat off to brush his hair off his face, but he was pitching so hard, it kept falling into his eyes.

If there was one thing he still had, it was his speed, even though it looked like it was killing him. 

He only let up a few hits, and of course one of them was to Seo Changbin, he flashed him a winning smile when he reached second base. He was definitely a taunter, trying to get into his opponents head. Jisung could see that Minho’s mind was preoccupied with the pain, so he didn’t have the time to pay him any mind. Luckily, he was able to strike out the other batters, leaving Changbin on base. He didn’t seem too happy about it as he made his way back to the away team’s dugout, hounding his teammates for giving up an opportunity.

By the sixth inning, Jisung was starting to have hope. Minho looked exhausted, and it seemed like he could barely move his arm when he wasn’t throwing a baseball. He had struck out during every at-bat, wincing as he tried to swing the best he could in the condition he was in. He was getting ready to take the mound again, taking deep breaths as he walked his way out onto the field. 

Jisung had his hands clasped so hard together, praying that Minho was going to finish the game strong. Unfortunately, Minho’s stamina was depleting quickly. He let up two back-to-back hits, and now Changbin was once again up at the plate. There were two runners on the bases, staring into the back of his head as he got ready to pitch. 

Changbin must have noticed that Minho was struggling with his shoulder. Jisung could see it in his smirk, especially when he kept fouling every single ball that came his way. Jisung clenched his teeth. 

He was doing it on purpose.

Minho looked like he was about to pass out, as he showed Changbin the fifteenth pitch of the at bat. Felix had to call a timeout, and Minho looked furious. He couldn’t see what they were saying, as they had their mitts up to their mouths, but he didn’t miss Minho pushing Felix in the chest, gesturing for him to get back behind home plate. But Felix didn’t look angry—he looked incredibly concerned. 

The next pitch smacked loudly off of Changbin’s bat. The sound cracked through Jisung’s ears, as the ball flew high into the backfield, straight over the center fielders head, and over the fence. Jisung felt his heart drop as the umpire circled his finger in the air. Minho was standing there, watching as all three runners rounded the bases. Changbin practically skipped around him, and Jisung desperately wanted to smack the smirk off his stupid face. 

But it didn’t end there. Minho let up another three runs before their coach forced him out of the game. He watched him hand over the ball, as he slowly made his way past the dugout. His arm was dangling at his side, and if no one noticed before, everyone could see the pain he was going through now. He didn’t even bother to enter the dugout, even though his teammates were calling his name. 

Jisung felt his heart ache, seeing that dejected look on his face. He could only imagine what was running through his mind. The fear, the disappointment, the pain and anxiety were eating at him. He could see it in his hopeless expression. 

And his dad was somewhere in the stands, watching his performance, making the weight of those emotions even worse. 

He needed to go after him. He needed to get to him before anyone else did.

“Hyunjin, I have to—”

“I know.” 

He looked at him thankfully, seeing his own concerned face. He quickly hopped past him and off the bleachers. He hightailed it to the locker room, and he knew Minho would probably be frustratedly throwing things all around the room, even if his shoulder was fucked. 

He barrelled through the doors, and he could hear the slamming, just like he expected. He didn’t wait for it to die down this time. He pushed through the doors, seeing Minho one-handing bats, buckets of balls, and empty water coolers and chucking them across the room. His other arm was dead weight at his side, like he couldn’t even move it. 

His face was full of fury and anguish. His eyes were wild, and Jisung was sure he hadn’t even noticed him enter. If he had, then he was ignoring him as he violently threw the baseball equipment across the locker room. 

Jisung felt his heart clench hearing him scream in anger as he tossed another bucket filled with baseballs, watching as they scattered and bounced across the floor. 

“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his fist into the lockers, causing Jisung to flinch. He turned to kick it, repeatedly jamming his cleats into the metal. He slammed his fist over and over again until there was a dent the size of his hand forming.

“Minho, stop.” Jisung pleaded with him, because he was pretty sure his knuckles were bleeding. He knew he probably shouldn’t get close while he was raging so violently, but he needed to stop him. He touched his waist gently, not wanting to grab his wrist that was connected to his hurt shoulder. 

He froze when he felt Jisung’s touch, but he didn’t look over at him. The assault on the locker ended, but Jisung could see the damage on his knuckles, seeing them dripping with bright red liquid. 

He sighed shakily, and placed his forehead on the locker, with both of his arms dangling at his sides.

Jisung’s breath hitched hearing a loud sudden sob come from Minho’s lips. His heart shattered inside him, seeing the tears drip down to the floor underneath them.

“I fucking—I fucking hate baseball. I hate it so fucking much.” 

He cried, and Jisung lost all his ability to speak seeing his shoulders shaking with his tears. 

“I don’t want to play. I don’t want to play in the major leagues. I hate it. I—I hate baseball. I just want to quit. I don’t want to—” 

He was crying so much that he could barely breathe. 

“Babe…” 

Minho turned then, and wrapped his good arm around Jisung’s neck. He sobbed into his shoulder, crushing him so tight that he could hardly catch his own breath. Jisung gently placed his arms around his center, pulling him tight. Minho grabbed his fingers into the back of Jisung’s hair, tugging a little harshly, but he let him cling to him.

He had never seen him so vulnerable before. All of the feelings were pouring out of him. Everything that he had been holding inside was escaping through his tears like a waterfall. 

He couldn’t believe his words.

I hate baseball.

He rubbed his back as Minho continued to hold onto him so tightly. After a few minutes, Jisung sat them down on the bench. He pulled him back so he could get a look at his face. The tear tracks were running down his cheeks, but Minho refused to look at him as he brushed the wetness away. He was still struggling to catch his breath, and Jisung knew he needed to help calm him down.

Although he really had no idea what to even say.

“Minho, it’s okay, just breathe.” 

He knew that might piss him off, but he had to try something. All he received was a hopeless head shake.

“My dad’s going to kill me. There—There were so many scouts and I let up so many runs…” 

Suddenly he looked terrified. 

“Your dad can fuck off. You were hurt. It’s not your fucking fault.” He didn’t mean to snap, but this man was clearly hurting his son, in more ways than one, and Jisung was damned if he was going to let it keep happening. 

Minho shook his head again, but Jisung grabbed his face. Minho’s broken eyes connected with his, and Jisung’s heart snapped as more tears dripped down his cheeks. 

“I’ve never been the player he wanted me to be. I’m not—I’m not going to get scouted like he wanted. I’m not good enough. I don’t know what to do…” he whispered, and all the life inside him was starting to drain from his face. 

Jisung bit his lip, hearing his scared and anguished tone. He pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, even though he was sure Minho was so in his head that he didn’t even register it. He looked so defeated and distracted.

And Jisung needed to get him out of there. 

He grabbed his hand then, and forced him to stand. He quickly brought him to his locker, and started grabbing all of his things out of it. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, and Jisung slung his bag over his shoulder. Jisung had wrapped a towel around his knuckles, trying to stop the bleeding from slamming his fist repeatedly into the lockers. Minho let him grab his wrist, blinking at him with sad wet eyelashes as he tried to help patch him up.  

“We’re leaving.” 

He knew Minho’s dad would be looking for him after the game, and there was no way he was going to let him see him in the state he was in. 

Minho looked terrified as he said that. 

“I can’t—my dad, he—”

“You can talk to him later. We’re leaving. Right now,” he told him sternly, and he had never seen Minho act so compliant before. He just nodded, and squeezed Jisung’s hand tighter. 

He immediately texted Hyunjin, telling him not to come back to their dorm.  

He forced him out of the locker room and tugged him across the back of the field. He knew they could be seen, and he knew that his coach probably wouldn’t appreciate him leaving during the game, but he needed to get him out of there. 

His heart also slammed in his chest when he saw Minho’s dad watching them with furious eyes from the edge of the stands. He just kept a tight grip on Minho’s hand, pulling him down the street and back towards the dorms. 

He hated the sick feeling swirling in his stomach as his dad watched them the entire way as they walked away from the baseball field. 

Minho hadn’t said anything, and Jisung had to undress him and wipe him down with a wet towel to try and get some of the sweat off his body. He was completely unresponsive, and Jisung knew it was the fear and anxiety racing throughout his system. He looked completely dead behind his eyes. 

He had to grab one of his oversized shirts, so he could fit his muscled arms into it. He could also barely move his shoulder. Jisung could see him wince as he tried to put a shirt on his body. 

“Babe, we have to go get your shoulder looked at,” he told him, but Minho looked like he hadn’t even registered what he had said. “Minho.” 

He successfully grabbed his attention, but those sad and desolate eyes were haunting. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice wrecked from the sobbing he had done earlier. 

“Yes, it does. You need proper painkillers, and if something is torn or—”

“I said it doesn’t fucking matter, Jisung,” he snapped. Jisung tried not to take it to heart. He knew he had a lot of emotions inside him at the moment, and he was definitely trying to cope. That angry wall of defense was a way of trying to protect himself, and Jisung knew he didn’t mean it. 

He decided not to argue with him. He just nodded, and he couldn’t help the small sad frown that overtook his lips. Minho must have seen it, because he instantly reached out to touch his cheek. 

“I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” 

He looked so fucking hurt.

“It’s okay,” he told him, and Minho closed his eyes. 

He just grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed. It was the middle of the afternoon, but he didn’t care. Minho looked exhausted still, and he seemed to be in an incredible amount of pain, even if he was trying to hide it. His shoulder was hot to the touch, and he knew the inflammation was probably intense. 

Minho laid down, and he tugged Jisung along with him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He pressed his face into his side, and Jisung’s heart shattered all over again, feeling more tears bleed into his shirt. He slowly raked his fingers through his hair, and he could tell that Minho was desperately trying to hold back his sobs.

He couldn’t stop thinking about his words in the locker room. He desperately wanted to ask him about it. He couldn’t believe that he had said those things. He wanted to know what was going on inside that broken heart of his. But he knew he couldn’t ask. If Minho wanted to open up about it, then he would. Forcing it out of him wouldn’t help in the slightest. 

Jisung decided to put a movie on his laptop, and Minho was quiet as they watched. He could see out of the corner of his eye, Minho’s phone lighting up over and over again. He gently reached out and flipped it over, because he didn’t want him to see it. His teammates and his dad were blowing up his phone, but he didn’t need to deal with any of that at the moment.

Minho ended up falling asleep for about three hours. Jisung was stuck in his position on the bed, but he tried to make the best of it. He didn’t want to risk waking him up. He looked so vulnerable, with his puffy cheeks and blotchy face as he tried to sleep peacefully. 

When he woke up, he looked like he was in an incredible amount of pain again. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, knowing it was a stupid question. He still looked as broken as he did earlier.

He shrugged with his good shoulder. Jisung felt his heart ache with disappointment when he remained silent. 

“Babe, you can talk to me.” He tried to sound as gentle and encouraging as possible. 

“I just don’t know what to do now,” he answered, and Jisung placed a gentle hand on his face.

“What do you mean?” 

Minho bit his lip hard.

“I’m not going to get scouted this year. That was my goal, and…and now—what if my shoulder doesn’t heal? Then I won’t be able to play, and my dad…he’s going to be so…” he trailed off, and Jisung could see him holding back his tears. His mind quickly traveled back to his words from the locker room again. 

I hate baseball.

“Babe, do you even like playing baseball?” he asked, knowing it was a dangerous question at the moment. 

Minho swallowed harshly, and he slowly shook his head no. 

Jisung felt his heart snap again. He didn’t even like playing baseball. 

“I used to. I used to love playing. But now every time I step on the mound I feel fucking sick. I love the game, but I just…I hate playing. I don’t want to play competitively. But my dad, he—he would kill me if I ever said that. If he even knew that I…” 

“Minho, if you don’t want to play then you don’t have to.” 

Minho quickly shook his head back-and-forth. 

“You don’t understand. I’ve been doing this my whole life. My dad, he—”

“Your dad can’t force you to be a baseball player just because he wants you to be.” He sounded a little more angry than he intended, but he couldn't hide his feelings. 

It was quiet for a couple of moments, and Jisung was just happy that Minho didn’t lash back at him. He looked like he was actually considering his words. 

“I really like history.” he said then, and Jisung looked at him with sad eyes. “I like reading about it and talking about it. I thought…maybe I could teach. That’s why I chose to be a history major. I knew I was going to do baseball, but…I always held hope that maybe I could do something I actually wanted to do someday.” 

Jisung could see the tiny pained frown on his lips, but he almost looked happy that he admitted those feelings. He could tell that he had never said them out loud before. He had never told anyone. 

“I think you should teach, then. I can tell you love it. I always see you with your history book, you’re always reading it.” 

Minho’s sudden smile disappeared. 

“My dad would lose it. He would freak out,” he told him. His tone was terrified, and Jisung really wondered just how many times his father put his hands on him. 

“I know, but he can’t force this onto you. If you don’t want to make baseball your career, then you shouldn’t have to.” 

Jisung could see the tears in Minho’s eyes again, and his heart snapped when he grasped his fingers tightly. 

“I just wanted him to be fucking proud of me. I just wanted to be good enough. I never fucking was and I never fucking will be.” 

Those tears dripped down his cheek and landed on Jisung’s wrist. 

“That’s bullshit. I already told you, you’re one of the best baseball players I’ve ever seen. You are good enough, so don’t say that, not in front of me.” 

Jisung gave him a smile, and that made a small chuckle leave Minho’s lips. 

“You were watching me all game again,” he mentioned, and Jisung rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I was,” he admitted, and he was thrilled seeing a wider grin on Minho’s face. Although, that smile turned into a nervous one in an instant. 

“Jisung,” he whispered, crushing his fingers so tightly that it made him wince. “Can I stay tonight?” 

Jisung just wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his cheek on his good shoulder. 

“I wouldn’t let you leave, even if you tried.” 

That made Minho chuckle. He felt a kiss being pressed to the top of his head, and his heart fluttered at his tender touch. 

“Thank you.”

He didn’t need to thank him, but he nodded anyway, allowing him to pull him as close as he possibly could. 

Hyunjin had texted him, saying that he was coming back to the dorm since he had to get his things for his art show. Jisung sighed when he mentioned that Felix was coming with him. Minho had received multiple texts after he skipped out early on the game yesterday, but he was so depressed he hadn’t looked at his phone in over twenty-four hours. 

Jisung had let him cuddle into his side, only moving when he had forced him to eat or when one of them had to use the bathroom. Other than that, they were stuck to each other, quietly enjoying each other's presence.

When Hyunjin and Felix walked in, Minho barely even registered that they had opened the door. He was still so out of it, and Jisung wished he knew what to do. 

“Hey guys,” Hyunjin smiled at them. Jisung had texted Hyunjin, saying that Minho wasn’t feeling well, that his shoulder was bothering him, and left it at that. He knew Hyunjin didn’t completely buy it, but honestly, he didn’t feel like it was his right to share such personal things. 

“Hey,” Jisung answered, since Minho hadn’t looked up from his laptop. He was pretty sure he wasn’t really watching it either. He was still trapped inside his mind, filled with fear and anxiety.

He could see Felix’s worried face, and Jisung gave him a warning glance, telling him to keep his mouth shut. He knew that was almost impossible for him though, and Jisung could see him biting his lip. 

He was surprised when Minho sat up, looking right at Felix.

“Did we win?” he asked, and Felix shook his head.

“No, we lost,” he said, and Minho’s eyes flitted to the ground with disappointment. He looked like he was blaming himself inside his head. “But don’t worry about it, that Changbin guy is insane. I’ve never seen a hitter like him before.” 

He was definitely trying to make Minho feel better, but it wasn’t really working. 

Hyunjin was gathering up his things, and Jisung could tell he was trying to be quick about it. Jisung felt bad that he was skipping out on another one of his art shows, but there was no way he could leave Minho alone right now. He told him not to worry about it, but he still felt like a bad friend. 

They were getting ready to leave the room, but before they disappeared behind the door, Felix looked over his shoulder.

“Oh, Minho, your dad was looking for you after the game yesterday,” he said, and Jisung could feel him tense beside him.

“T-Thanks.” He nodded, and Jisung knew Felix had no idea about his dad, and he knew it wasn’t his fault, but he wanted to punch his brother so bad at the moment—because why couldn’t he have just fucking left without saying anything, like he had asked him to in his text. 

The door closed behind them, and when Jisung looked over to him, his entire face was blank. Jisung felt his heart clench, not seeing any emotion at all.

“He’s still here. He’s probably so pissed,” he whispered.

Jisung had no idea what to say, once again. 

“You don’t have to go see him,” he told him, but Minho shook his head.

“He knows when I have practice. He’ll find me, even if I try to avoid him.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Jisung blurted out. Minho’s eyes went wide, and that unreadable expression was back. 

“No,” he denied, and Jisung grabbed his hand in his, squeezing instantly. 

“Minho, you shouldn’t have to face him alone, and if I’m there then—”

“If you’re there it will only make it worse. He can’t know about you. If he knows that we’re together…” he trailed off, shaking his head, “he just can’t know.” 

Jisung knew that shouldn’t have made him angry, but he couldn’t help it. His dad had been putting a strain on their relationship since day fucking one. He had damaged his son so badly that it was affecting Jisung, too. And he would be damned if he was going to let him continue to hurt him. 

But he wasn’t going to argue with him for now. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, especially with that anxiousness radiating from his body.

“Okay, I won’t go with you,” he agreed, and that seemed to make Minho relax a little bit. But that relief only lasted a second. 

“You shouldn’t come to practice tomorrow, either.” 

That made his chest tighten up.

“What? Why not?”

Minho’s face started to scrunch up in irritation.

“Because I don’t want to risk it. I don’t want him to know what you look like. I don’t even want him to know that you exist.”

Jisung didn’t like that. He didn’t like hearing that at all. And he knew it wasn’t Minho’s fault, and he knew that he was just broken, scared and hurt, but Jisung couldn’t stand being pushed away. 

“So, what—is this going to be a common occurrence? We have to hide from your dad because he won’t approve?” 

He could see Minho’s jaw set.

“I told you before, if he thinks I’m not one hundred percent focused on baseball—”

“You don’t even want to play baseball, Minho.” 

He shouldn’t have said that, but his irritation was getting the best of him. Minho clenched his teeth, and Jisung winced seeing his wild and angry eyes. 

“I don’t have a fucking choice, Jisung. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that?” he hissed, and Jisung hated hearing that over and over and over again.

“You do have a choice. If you don’t want to play, then you shouldn’t have to!” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he desperately needed him to listen. 

“I do have to! You don’t fucking get it! Do you know what he’ll do to me if I tell him I’m giving up baseball?!” 

Jisung’s heart snapped seeing more tears roll down his cheeks. 

“You don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it!” 

He was crying again, and that anger had transformed into sadness and fear. It was quiet between them, with Minho’s gentle sobs filling the room. Jisung felt the tears stinging at his own eyes, seeing Minho break down again in front of him. He couldn’t stop them from leaking out, down his cheeks.

When Minho looked up, he noticed immediately. He instantly reached out, cupping Jisung’s face with his hands, which were wet from his own tears.

“Fuck, baby, I’m sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean to yell at you.” 

Jisung felt his throat tighten, because his heart was just as hurt, seeing Minho in so much pain—emotionally and physically.

“It’s fine,” he spoke softly. Minho pressed his face into Jisung’s chest, shaking his head back-and-forth.

“It’s not fine. I’m—I’m an asshole. I keep hurting you. I’m always just fucking hurting you.”

Jisung carefully wrapped his arms around him, trying not to disturb his shoulder. Minho was crying even harder now, and Jisung wished he could take all the pain away. He wished he could help him. But he was at a loss, unsure of what to do. Minho genuinely was too afraid of his dad to make his own decisions. The fear was locking him in place, making him feel stuck. It was forcing him to lash out, because he had no idea how to handle the emotions inside of him. 

Jisung took deep calming breaths, because one of them had to stay strong, and right now, he was sure that Minho was on the edge of shattering completely. 

He held him until he fell asleep again. He knew his shoulder was still bothering him tremendously, and the medication he had been taking to stop the inflammation in his shoulder was making him drowsy. Jisung was just thankful he had stopped crying, and was able to slip into a few hours of a painless slumber.

When he woke up later, he didn’t say anything. They watched movies on Jisung’s laptop in silence again. Minho held him tight, like if he were to let go, he would completely shatter. 

Jisung stayed home from their practice like Minho had asked him to. He was pacing his dorm back-and-forth, feeling incredibly anxious. He knew that Minho’s dad was going to show up, and he knew it wasn’t going to go well. 

He was worried that Minho’s dad might try and make him leave with him. He was terrified that he would force Minho to practice nonstop, and Minho would be too afraid to tell him that his shoulder was busted. He had promised him that he would tell his coach at practice, and he hated that he couldn’t trust him, but he wasn’t sure if Minho would be true to his word. 

Jisung was anxiously waiting for him to call. He told him he would come back to his dorm right after practice. Sometimes, their practices ran late, so he was trying not to freak out right away. But it was already almost nine, and their practice should have been over for about two hours now. 

He felt the relief enter his body and then quickly exit as the door opened, because he saw Felix and Hyunjin enter the room, and not Minho. 

“Oh, hey.” He knew he sounded disappointed, but neither of them seemed to notice.

“Hey,” Hyunjin said with a giant smile, holding a takeout box in his hand, “I thought you’d be out. You can have my leftovers if you want.” 

“How long has practice been over for?” he asked, completely ignoring Hyunjin’s offer. Felix gave him a raised eyebrow.

“Probably like two hours. Why?” 

“Did Minho practice with you guys today?” 

“No, he finally admitted that he hurt his shoulder, and his dad showed up looking for him, but I haven’t seen him since.”

Jisung felt the worry engulf him. His heart sank, and Felix must have immediately noticed the panic on his face, because he looked at him worriedly. 

“Jisung, what’s wrong?” he asked, and Jisung could feel the air struggling to get to his lungs. 

“You really haven’t seen him?” He was desperate, hoping that Minho didn’t go back home with him. He didn’t even wait for Felix to respond as he quickly grabbed his phone and tried to call him. 

“No, he might just be at the dorm but—hey!”

He had pushed past him a little aggressively, but he was standing in front of where his shoes were. He threw his slides on and immediately ran out the door. 

“Jisung, wait, where are you going?”

“What the hell is going on?”

Felix and Hyunjin were both calling after him, but he didn’t slow down. He didn’t have time to answer their questions. He ran as fast as he could, continuing to call him on repeat, even though he wasn’t answering. Every time it went to voicemail, his heart broke even more. 

He was running so fast that it only took him a few minutes to get to the other dorms. 

He pounded on the door, but no one answered. He knew that the people in the rooms adjacent were probably getting irritated with all the knocking and the slamming, but he couldn’t stop. After about ten pathetic minutes of him desperately waiting for him to open the door, his arm swung down to his side. 

He wasn’t there. 

And no matter how hard he slammed his fist against it, he wasn’t going to answer. 

It had been a week. 

He hadn’t heard from him in a week. 

He knew texting and calling was useless, and he knew that sitting underneath the oak tree and waiting for him to show up was pointless, but he couldn’t stop desperately hoping that if he sat there long enough, that he might walk up to him with that loving smile. 

But he never did, and he could barely read his books because he couldn’t stop staring at the door, waiting for him to walk through it. 

He continued to go watch Felix practice, only because he thought maybe Minho would show up, and because Felix seemed worried about him. He was doing everything he could to keep his broken heart hidden, but Felix could tell that he was concerned about Minho. According to their coach, Minho went back home, and had a shoulder injury that would keep him out for a few weeks.

Felix tried to tell him that he was fine, and that he would be back soon. But Felix didn’t know about the rest of Minho’s struggles.

He wondered what his dad’s reaction had been, after learning about his injury. He knew his dad probably wasn’t being helpful or kind. He could only imagine what Minho was going through. He could clearly see that terrified expression on his face in his mind.

He brought his book with him, slowly flipping through the pages as the team practiced. He found he read a lot more when Minho wasn’t there, since he didn’t have his eyes glued to him. He was able to read the new book he had bought for him front-to-back at least three times as he sat on the bleachers. He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on the words Minho had left for him at the beginning, his heart feeling broken all over again.

I know I’m not good enough.

Minho had felt that way his entire life, and Jisung wished he could make him see that he was . 

Jisung could hear them wrapping up practice for the evening, and Jisung sighed as he closed his book. Felix had offered for him to come out to dinner with him and Hyunjin, and this time, he didn’t deny his invitation. His heart was aching, and he needed any kind of distraction to get his worried mind off Minho. 

He placed his book in his bag and shrugged it over his shoulder, waiting for his brother to come over to the bleachers. But when he looked up, his bag almost fell to the ground. He could see Minho, standing near the dugout, talking to Chan. 

His heart burned in his chest, and he almost fell as he ran down the bleachers. The players that were cleaning up the field were looking at him like he was crazy as he sprinted across the infield towards him. He didn’t even care if he wasn’t allowed to be there. He ignored all the insane stares he was getting. 

He had only run a few feet, but he was heaving in massive breaths. He was pretty sure he could have beaten the fastest sprinter in the world with how fast his legs were just moving. Minho’s eyes went wide, seeing him suddenly appear in front of him. 

He was in a shoulder brace, which wrapped around his chest. He was also wearing that red hat of his, and Jisung could barely see his eyes now as he ducked his head. 

“Hey, Jisung,” Chan greeted him, but he couldn’t take his gaze off of Minho. 

“You’re back,” he said, clenching his fingers into fists. “How long have you been back?” 

Minho looked tense, and Jisung really wanted to rip that hat right off of his head so he would stop avoiding his gaze. 

“I just got back,” he answered, but he still had his eyes glued to the grass beneath him. He didn’t like his shaky voice, and he didn’t like that he wasn’t looking at him. 

“Well—you should have called me. I’ve been worried sick about you and—”

“Jisung, can you just give me one minute?” 

It was eerie how calm he sounded interrupting him. 

“No, I can’t give you a minute. I’ve been waiting a week—”

“Jisung,” he breathed out, and that defeated tone hurt his heart. “Please, just wait for me near the bleachers, okay?” 

He would have argued if Chan wasn’t looking at them awkwardly, and their coach wasn’t calling them over. He sighed and stomped his way back to the bleachers. He watched, but couldn’t hear the conversation going on in the dugout. But he could see the dejected look on Minho’s face the entire time. 

He was desperately wondering how his shoulder was, and how long he would be on the bench for until it healed. His coach had placed a gentle yet firm hand on his good shoulder, and he could see the tight smile that Minho gave the rest of the team. 

Jisung was itching for their huddle to disperse. He was starting to pace back-and-forth, impatiently waiting for Minho to make his way over to him. He let out a short breath of relief when he saw him finally walk over in his direction towards the bleachers. 

He tried to put a smile on his face, because he knew he must have had an incredibly hard week. He didn’t want to upset him, so he calmed himself down the best he could. 

But he had so many questions. He needed to know if he was okay. He was dying to wrap him up in his arms, wanting to feel his warmth against his chest. He had missed him so much, and he had been so worried about him that he was barely feeling himself these last seven days. 

Minho still had his eyes on the grass, and Jisung wished he knew what was going on inside his head. 

He was shocked when Minho didn’t approach him. He had walked right by him, nodding with his head for him to follow him out towards the sidewalk. He could see Felix watching them from the dugout, so he just gave him a slight wave, letting him know that he would catch up with him later. 

He quickly jogged after him, because Minho hadn’t slowed down to wait for him. 

“Minho, hold on.” 

He stopped as he called his name, coming to a complete halt. Jisung almost bumped into him, stopping just in time. It took him a moment to turn around, and when he did, he was finally looking at him. He couldn’t decipher his expression, but he almost looked lifeless. 

It was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke. 

“Jisung, we can’t do this anymore.” 

He felt the world shut down around him at his words. 

He stared at him with disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. His heart was burning in his chest again, but this time it was incredibly painful. 

“Wait—What?”

He couldn’t believe he had just said that. 

Minho swiped his tongue out to lick his bottom lip, biting it harshly as it retreated back into his mouth. He let out a deflated sigh, before fixing the cap on his head, so once again he wasn’t looking at him properly. 

“I know I said a lot of shit last week—but I was just upset at the moment, and I didn’t mean any of it.”

He was lying. He had to be lying. 

“I’ve been playing poorly this year, and then I hurt my shoulder, so I was just having a…sort of, crisis. I’m out for about six weeks, but I’m going to recover and then work even harder.”

Jisung wished he could read the expression on his face, but he couldn’t. His eyes were blank. 

“I took the week off and I really reflected, and I said a lot of things I didn’t actually mean. I’ve been wanting to play in the major leagues since I was a kid, and I think—I think our relationship has really started to take away from that dream of mine. I’ve been thinking a lot, and I think it would be best for me if we ended it.” 

Jisung shook his head. He couldn’t stop shaking it. He shook it back-and-forth until he had started to feel dizzy. 

“No. You’re—You’re lying. Something happened, didn’t it? Your dad—he said something to you. Please, Minho, don’t do this. You can talk to me. We can work through this together. We can—”

“I told you, baseball is my number one priority.”

Jisung felt the tears stinging at his eyes.

“Minho, please…don’t.”

He was begging.

That unreasonable expression was driving him crazy. 

Jisung hated it.

“You told me you’d understand, but you always act like this. It’s another reason why I’m ending it.” 

He sounded annoyed, and Jisung felt his heart clench.

“Minho, I know something is wrong. I know you’re hiding something from me. You can’t fucking lie to me.” 

He wasn’t giving up. He knew that Minho’s dad must have said or done something. After everything they had talked about last week, and after how vulnerable Minho had been, he refused to believe that he didn’t have something to do with it. 

Minho’s jaw tensed, and Jisung could see his irritation starting to build up.

“Would you quit acting so pathetic? You’ve been distracting me since day one. This is my choice,” he snapped, and Jisung felt the pain ripple through his heart. 

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. You don’t want to break up. He’s forcing you to do this, isn’t he?” 

Minho rolled his eyes. 

“I know you never fucking listen, so I’ll repeat it once more for you. It’s over, Jisung.” 

He sounded so final, and Jisung felt his heart snap inside his chest. He couldn't believe he just said that. Minho’s intense cold gaze was back, and those loving eyes he used to know were completely gone.

“You’re a fucking dick,” he whispered, and that made Minho wince.

“Yeah, I know.”

That was the last thing he said before he left Jisung on the sidewalk, with tears streaming down his face and a shattered heart. 

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Hyunjin called out to him softly, “Your brother and I are going out to get some dinner, do you want to come?” 

Jisung was under the covers, so he couldn’t see his blotchy face from crying again. But he also couldn’t see him shaking his head either. He hadn’t left his bed in almost three full days. He had never felt so heartbroken before in his entire life. 

When Seungmin had broken up with him, it hurt. There was a sad aura that loomed over him for months as he read his romance books and tried to ease the heartbreak. But the pain was tenfold when Minho looked at him with those cold eyes and told him it was over. He couldn’t stop the tears and he couldn’t even catch a breath as he left him behind. His heart had squeezed inside his chest, and he wanted to rip it out so the pain would stop. 

He had walked back to the dorm with fat wet tears streaming down his cheeks. Felix almost lost his shit upon seeing him. It took him about ten minutes to tell him what had happened, since he couldn’t stop sobbing. Felix was irate. Hyunjin was trying to calm everyone down. 

Felix had been clinging to his side since then, only leaving him when he had practice or class. He knew that if he denied his dinner invite, he would suggest getting takeout to bring back to the dorm so he wouldn’t be alone. 

But he actually wanted to be alone for a little bit. 

He slowly forced his head out from underneath the covers, and he must have looked rough, since Hyunjin’s frown deepened. 

“You guys can go.” He tried to say it with a smile, but his tear streaked face and scratchy voice definitely didn’t sound chipper in the slightest. 

Hyunjin made his way over to his bed, sitting down softly at the edge. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, and Jisung nodded. 

Hyunjin let out a soft sigh, giving him a careful gaze.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Jisung bit the inside of his cheek, seeing Hyunjin’s curious and worried expression. He hadn’t told him what had happened. All he had told him was that they had broken up, and that Minho was the one to call it off. He didn’t tell him why, and he didn’t explain anything about the situation with his dad. 

He just glanced down at the bedspread, and Hyunjin must have gotten the hint because he patted the back of his hand. 

“Okay,” he gave him a gentle smile before he stood up and put his shoes on. “I’ll make your brother go out with me, and I’ll bring you back something.” 

Jisung really was grateful to Hyunjin. He knew that Felix was hovering too. He couldn’t blame him though, since Jisung had been crying nonstop for days. He was just worried about him. He had always been protective. 

When he left the room, Jisung could feel his heart aching again. He looked over to his nightstand, seeing the books Minho had bought for him lying there. He couldn’t help but reach out to grab them. 

He flipped through the one he had annotated for him, with Jisung’s comments also written in the margins. He had read the book at least fifteen times. The tears started to form as he read his thoughts on the page, like he could almost hear his voice saying it. 

Love is complicated, isn’t it?

But they never give up on each other.

I can see why you like these romance books so much, it makes you wish for a love like that.

He cursed when his tears started to dampen the page, and the pink ink bled with the wetness. He read that line over and over again. 

They never give up on each other. 

He grabbed his green pen that was lying there, uncapping it quickly. 

Love is complicated. 

But I’ll never give up on you.

My wish for a love like that came true when we met.

The thought of Minho’s loving smile made his heart clench painfully, but he couldn’t deny that no one had ever looked at him like he did.

He gently closed the book and took a deep breath. He hadn’t taken a shower in days, and he was in a ratty white t-shirt and some black sweatpants, but he didn’t care. 

He wasn’t going to give up on him. He knew his dad must have had something to do with it.

And he wasn’t going to sit there and mope around anymore. 

He loved Minho, and no one had ever loved him like Minho did. 

Which is why he ran his fingers like a comb through his hair and forced himself out of bed. He had the annotated book in his hands as he made his way to Minho’s dorm. He was definitely walking a little quickly, making himself sweat, but he couldn’t help himself. His heart was also slamming against his ribs, knowing he hadn’t seen or spoken to him since their breakup.

He knew he looked awful,  but he needed to see him. He needed to let him know that he wasn’t going to just let him go. He was going to fight, because he knew Minho must have been forced to make a decision. And he knew that his dad must have been the culprit. 

He slammed his fist on the door and then hid to the side so he couldn’t see who it was through the peephole. He didn’t want to risk him not answering if he saw it was him standing there. The door slowly opened, and before he could slam it back shut, Jisung had pushed past him and into the room. 

He quickly noticed that Minho’s side of the dorm was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn everywhere, and empty food wrappers and cans lying near his bedside. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, causing Jisung to glance over at him. His heart jumped into his throat at the sight. His red sweatpants were hanging low on his hips, and he had no shirt on his body. His shoulder brace was strapped around his chest, and Jisung could see the tightness of the strap, making his pecs pop a little. 

He was a little mesmerized by the sight, as always, but he shook his head out of his trance. 

He bit his tongue, seeing Minho’s angry looking face. He wanted to say something, but his words were caught in his throat. Some things never seemed to change. Instead of speaking, he held the book out to him, and Minho gave him a raised eyebrow. 

“That was a gift, you don’t have to give it back to me. I don’t want it.” He sounded annoyed, and that made an electric bolt of pain shoot through his heart. 

“I—I want you to read it.” He finally found the courage to blurt the words out. He wanted him to see all of the words he poured out onto the page, all of his responses, and how much he loved him. 

Minho eyed him carefully, and Jisung really hated the intense gaze he was giving him. It made his heart weep, thinking that maybe he had meant it after all. He had to erase that thought from his mind though, knowing that Minho was just putting up his defensive wall. 

“You need to get out.” 

Jisung forgot to factor in that getting Minho to listen to him was going to be extremely difficult. 

“I’ll leave when you take the book,” he told him, hoping that would entice him to grab it from his hands. 

Minho let out a frustrated sigh before taking it aggressively from his hands and tossing it onto the floor near his bed. Jisung bit his lip, seeing it bounce on its spine and land face down. He clenched his fingers into fists, and he felt the tears welling again.

“There, now can you just get the fuck out?” 

He had to hold his breath or else the tears were going to start rolling down his cheeks. He just nodded, and he winced as Minho didn’t waste a single second slamming the door behind him. 

He couldn’t stop the sob that passed through his lips as he kicked him out. He was heaving in shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down, because he hadn’t been prepared for that cold and irritated glare. 

He just hoped that he would read it. He desperately needed him to see everything he wrote in that book.

And that hopefully, he would understand that he wasn’t giving up on him. 

Felix kept coming to the oak tree everyday to eat lunch with him so he wouldn’t be alone. Jisung told him that he didn’t need to, since he knew he was cutting it close to being late for class. He had lectures on the other side of campus, and he knew he was sprinting down the halls to get there on time. It was also chilly outside these days, and he could see him shivering as he shoved a protein bar in his mouth. Of course he hadn’t brought a jacket with him, but that didn’t deter him from sitting out in the campus courtyard to keep him company. 

They had practice later that evening, and Jisung was attending. His brother had eyed him carefully when he told him he was coming along. He had skipped out on their practices for the last week, since he was buried under the covers of his bed. But he was tired of crying. 

Felix sat beside him on the grass as Jisung immersed himself in a book he had bought from the bookstore Minho had taken him to. He couldn’t help that pit of sadness forming with every word as he read it, remembering the happy smile on Minho’s face as he rubbed his knuckles under the cats’ chins. 

“Jisung,” Felix said, trying to grab his attention. “I know we haven’t talked about it, and I know you probably don’t want to, but…please, can you tell me what happened between you and Minho?” 

Jisung froze, and slowly looked up from his book. He could see his concerned face, with a hint of anger hidden behind it. He knew Felix was pissed, because he overheard him bitching to Hyunjin one night when he thought Jisung was asleep, saying how he knew he was a piece of shit that would hurt him. 

Jisung didn’t try to tell him otherwise. He knew it would be pointless, especially since he was only holding onto hope that Minho broke up with him not of his own free will. 

He sighed, because he knew that Felix had been dying to ask him that question for days. Last time, he kept him in the dark. He had never talked about his breakup with Seungmin, because it was too painful - he had just wanted to block it out and forget. But this time, he couldn’t just forget. He couldn’t fucking let go as easily as before. 

“He said he wanted to focus on baseball,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He decided he would keep it vague for now, because if he started thinking about Minho’s cold dead eyes, he wasn’t sure if he could hold the tears back. 

“So, he led you on just so he could break your heart? That’s what I’m hearing.” He was pissed again, and Jisung sighed.

“Felix…” he trailed off, shaking his head. 

He could see him biting his lip, struggling to hold back his words and emotions. 

“He was an asshole from the start. You’re better off without him, and you’re way too good for him.” 

He knew he was just trying to make him feel better, but honestly it wasn’t helping in the slightest. 

“What time is practice tonight?” he asked, because he had to change the subject. He didn’t want to talk about Minho anymore, because every time it just hurt his heart. Felix sighed deeply, but decided to move along with the course of their discussion. 

“Six, like usual,” he said, giving him a frown. “Are you sure you want to come?” 

Jisung knew what he meant by that. Minho was going to be there, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off him.

“Yeah, I’m coming to support you. I always have and I always will,” he told him confidently. But Felix could read right through him, and he knew it. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt anymore than you already are,” he said. Jisung shook his head with a smile. 

“Felix, it’s fine. I’m not going to let him stop me from coming to your games and practices. I never have, and I’m not about to start.” 

And that was true.

Which was how he found himself on the bleachers, desperately watching Minho who was sitting in the dugout. He had been doing stretches all practice, and Jisung could see he looked a little distracted. He had noticed him when he had first arrived, but he hadn’t looked in his direction since. Felix had been glaring at him the entire practice, and if Minho had noticed, he was ignoring him.

Apparently they hadn’t talked much since he and Jisung had broken up. Felix was spending every waking moment in his and Hyunjin’s dorm, and apparently Minho had missed practice earlier in the week for doctors’ appointments for his shoulder.

Jisung couldn’t help his curiosity, forcing Felix to spill about his shoulder injury. He was expected to be out for six weeks, bringing them close to the end of the season. Jisung knew it must have been driving him crazy. He bet his dad was even more furious, even though it wasn’t Minho’s fault in the slightest. 

According to Felix, he was incredibly irritable, and snapped at anyone who tried to talk to him. The whole team was walking on eggshells around him, trying not to say the wrong thing and piss him off even more. 

Jisung had brought his book, but it didn’t even matter, since he couldn’t take his eyes off Minho. He knew he could feel his gaze on him, by the tense twitch of his shoulders. He was definitely getting under his skin, but that was exactly his plan. He wasn’t giving up on him, and he needed him to know that. 

Practice went by quickly, and Jisung was disappointed when Minho immediately packed up his bag to leave. He felt his heart clench, missing the way he would smile and walk over to the bleachers, looking at him with that loving gaze as he tapped him on the head with his mitt.

Minho was about to leave, but before he could, Felix was grabbing him by the numbers on the back of his jersey, tugging at it harshly. 

“Hey, asshole.” 

Jisung heard Felix’s angry tone boom across the field. It was always such a shock to hear it. It was so rare seeing him get so mad. 

Jisung’s eyes went wide when Minho swung his bag around to hit Felix’s arm, forcing him to let go. 

“Get off me.”

His eyes were wild with rage. Jisung almost didn’t even recognize him. Felix looked surprised too, but it quickly turned into irritation. 

“Remember when I said I would break your fucking hand if you hurt him?” he asked, and Jisung felt his heart starting to race in his chest. He could see both of them clench their fingers into fists at their sides. They were both radiating fury, and Jisung had never seen Felix with that kind of look on his face before. 

Minho glared at him for a moment before his expression changed a little. Jisung couldn’t read it, but he was surprised when he stuck his hand out.

“Go ahead.” 

Felix bit his lip so hard, but before he could lunge at him, Chan was holding him back by his waist.

“You guys. Enough.” Chan chided as Felix was trying to wriggle out of his grasp to get at him. Minho still had his hand out, and that seemed to piss Felix off even more. 

“You’re a piece of shit. Does it make you feel good, making him cry like that? Did you enjoy leading him on, like I fucking knew you were?”

Jisung needed him to shut up. Everyone was listening, and he was letting his anger get the best of him, shouting out things that should have stayed in his mouth. Jisung bounded off the bleachers towards them. 

Minho didn’t say anything as Felix continued to seeth angrily at him. His eyes had casted towards the ground, and Jisung could see his face form into a painful grimace. 

He finally made his way over and grabbed his brother by the arm.

“Felix, let’s go.” 

He glanced over to see Minho who had his eyes closed. Before Jisung could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left the field. His heart dropped again, watching him walk away. Somehow it seemed to hurt more every time. 

“You got him?” Chan asked him then, and Jisung nodded. He gave him a small smile before jogging off towards Minho, who was making his way down the street at an incredible pace. 

He desperately wanted to know what Chan was about to say to him, but he tore his eyes away, seeing Felix looking a little guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, giving Jisung a sad frown.

He wanted to say it was fine, but instead he just shook his head, feeling embarrassed as everyone was watching them. 

“Come on,” he said, and Felix just nodded. He grabbed his equipment and his sports bag, following Jisung who had his book pressed to his chest. 

They walked in silence back to the dorms, and Jisung knew it was killing him. 

“Jisung, please, talk to me,” he begged, and Jisung just sighed. 

“I don’t you need you to be my protector all the time.” 

He didn’t mean to sound irritated and feisty, but he couldn’t help it. He knew Felix had good intentions, but he didn’t want him picking fights for him. Or screaming out loud to the entire baseball team that he and Minho had a bad breakup. 

“I’m sorry…I was angry, and I couldn’t…I was just trying to…I don’t know,” he explained poorly, Jisung let out a defeated sigh.

“We broke up because he wants to focus on his career. We had talked about it before we even agreed to be in a relationship. You don’t know the whole story, so just stay out of it.”

He knew he was being harsh, but he needed Felix to realize that Jisung could take care of himself. He didn’t mind his comfort, but he didn’t need him to attack Minho for him. 

Those words seemed to piss Felix off a little though.

“Well, maybe if you just talked to me when I ask you things then—”

“It’s none of your business, Felix,” he snapped back. 

“I know that, but why are you keeping things from me? We used to tell each other everything. I’m so worried seeing you so fucking hurt, I hate that you won’t talk to me, and I hate that there’s nothing I can do!” 

It was silent between them for a moment as they stood outside the dorm buildings, staring at the ground beneath their feet. 

“You’re my twin, and my best friend. You can talk to me.” 

Jisung felt his heart snap, hearing those words. The same words he had told Minho last week. And he didn’t mean for the tears to start streaming down his face, but they did. The pain inside him was still present, and that made it intensify. Felix quickly wrapped him in a hug, and apparently he didn’t care about the people walking by them, giving them strange looks. 

“It’s okay,” he rubbed his fingers into the back of his hair, and suddenly, it felt like they were in high school again. He felt so small, crying into his shoulder, just like he had many times when he was picked on, and Felix had taken care of him. 

Felix pulled him along the rest of the sidewalk and into his dorm. Hyunjin wasn’t back from his meeting with Jeongin about their upcoming art show, and Jisung was kind of grateful. He wanted to talk to Felix alone, knowing he could trust him with anything.

They both sat on his bed, and Jisung tried to calm his sobs with Felix brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

“I–I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it between us,” he pleaded, and Felix nodded. 

“Of course, you know I will.” 

Jisung nodded back.

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think that Minho’s dad forced him to break up with me.”

Felix gave him a curious glance.

“What? Why would he do that?” he asked, and Jisung rubbed aggressively at his eyes. 

“Because his dad is an abusive asshole,” he hissed, and that made Felix’s face soften. “He forces him to play baseball. Last week he cried after the game, Felix. That’s why I told you not to come back to my dorm. He told me he hated baseball, and that if he didn’t do what his dad wanted then…well, he didn’t say it explicitly, but he is absolutely terrified of him.” 

Felix looked incredibly shocked. 

“Are you serious? He said that?” He looked like he was trying to digest his words. Jisung just nodded. 

“Then he disappeared for a week, and when he came back he told me that everything he said was a lie, and that he wanted to break up. But I know it has something to do with his dad. I saw him scream at him in the parking lot during one of your first games, and he is always so scared whenever he comes to watch him pitch. He is terrified of letting him down because I—I’m pretty sure he...” 

He couldn’t even say it out loud. The thought of him putting his hands on Minho was sickening. 

“I get it, I get it.” Felix rubbed his hands up and down his arms. He was shaking a little, letting it all out. He felt a little guilty, sharing Minho’s personal life, but he desperately needed to tell someone. He was struggling too, and if he could trust anyone, it was Felix. 

“I just don’t know what to do. I don’t want to just give up on him. Because I know you think he’s an asshole, but he’s really, really not. He’s so sweet, Felix. And I like him so much. I can’t just…” 

Felix nodded, letting out a soft sigh.

“Yeah, okay.” 

It was quiet for a few minutes as Felix seemed to be contemplating, and Jisung wiped away his tears. 

“What should I do?” he asked, desperately, and he didn’t like the hopeless look on Felix’s face. 

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do,” he said, and that wasn’t the response he wanted. 

“But—I need to do something. I’m so worried about him, Felix.” 

More tears leaked down his face. 

“Okay, okay, just...settle down, we can figure something out.” 

He grabbed him in a hug and Jisung once again felt so small. 

He knew that Felix was probably right. He wasn’t sure if there was anything he could do to help him. Minho seemed to be trapped in the fear of his dad’s abuse and approval. He couldn’t break free from it, even when Jisung tried to tell him that he didn’t have to stay and withstand it. 

Unfortunately, Minho couldn’t see that light at the end of the tunnel yet, but Jisung wasn’t going to give up waving his flashlight, hoping desperately that he would be able to see it.

It had been two weeks since Minho had broken up with him. 

His plan was to get him to talk to him, even if it was painful. 

Although, it was incredibly difficult to corner him, even with Felix’s help. His first attempt was at his dorm. Felix had let him in, but as soon as he entered the room, Minho was brushing past him, with his shoes barely even on his feet. 

He sighed, knowing getting him in a position where he could talk to him one on one was almost impossible. Especially since he had figured out Jisung was trying to trap him into a conversation. 

He thought if he could just show him that he knew there was something else going on, he might break and admit it. 

He had been waiting for him outside the history building, but as soon as Minho took one step outside and saw Jisung standing there, he retreated back inside. Even when he chased after him, he had lost him to the twists and turns of the hallways. 

His heart sank, knowing he was doing everything he could to avoid him. 

Getting to him at practice was impossible, since he would just pack his things and leave before Jisung could jog his way over to the dugout. 

Felix had helped him come up with a plan of trapping him in the locker room. Jisung had missed practice, baiting him into thinking he was giving up, and when his guard was down, Felix had asked him to help take the extra equipment to the locker room. 

He jumped when Jisung slammed the door behind him. He turned immediately, and his eyes went wide seeing him standing there. He let out a deep sigh, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. 

“You’re fucking relentless.” 

Jisung tried to ignore that the best he could.

“Maybe if you stopped running away from me, I wouldn’t have to be.” 

That seemed to piss him off.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Jisung,” he snapped. The only thing he could focus on was him saying his name. He had missed the sound of it rolling off his tongue so much. 

He was pathetic. 

“Well, I want to talk to you.” 

“About what?” He sounded so irritated, and Jisung took a deep breath. He had to keep reminding himself of that wall that Minho would put up when he was hurting.

“I want to talk about the real reason why you broke up with me.” 

He was proud of his confident voice, not shaking in the slightest. Minho bit down hard on his lip, and he let out an annoyed chuckle. 

“God, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he breathed out, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “How many times do I have to say it, huh? Baseball is my priority, it always was, always is, and always will be.”

Jisung shook his head.

“You can say that as many times as you want, but I don’t believe you.” 

Minho chuckled.

“That sounds like it’s your problem then.” 

Jisung clenched his fingers into fists. 

“Just be honest with me, Minho. How is being honest with me worse than this?” he asked, desperately. He knew their break up couldn’t have been affecting only him. Minho looked exhausted, and he couldn’t read the emotions on his face, but it had to be hurting him just as much. 

He sighed, with a slight roll of his eyes. 

“You know, you’re really starting to get on my fucking nerves,” he groaned, and Jisung tried to block out those words from his heart, but it was so difficult. 

“It’s getting on my nerves that you’re lying to me.” 

Minho’s intense gaze was on him then. He had been avoiding eye contact the entire time, but he was glaring right at him now. 

“Okay, here’s another reason. I don’t like you anymore. Our relationship was starting to bore and annoy me. Is that a better reason for you?”

Jisung felt his throat close up. He could feel the words trying to penetrate him, but he couldn’t let them. 

“You…You don’t mean that,” he whispered. The conversation he desperately wanted to have was ending up back firing. 

“Look, I can’t be any more clear, and you need to leave me alone. I’m serious.” 

Jisung couldn’t even stop him from leaving. He was frozen in his spot, feeling the words he had tried to keep from entering his heart stab directly into him. He blinked back his tears.

He was trying everything to push him away, using words that he knew would hurt him. 

Our relationship was starting to bore and annoy me.

That hope he was feeling was starting to dissipate. Especially with the cold eyes Minho stared at him with as he said that. 

The slam of the door made him flinch, and he held back his tears the best he could. 

He was starting to feel hopeless. He had missed Minho so much, and watching him at practice or on the sidelines at games was the only way he could see him. 

He never saw him at school anymore. He sat underneath the oak tree by himself, missing the times Minho would eat his sandwich under the tree with him. He missed him coming to see him in the library, and he missed hanging out with him after class. 

They were starting to feel like distant memories as three weeks had passed by. He had never felt so lonely before, even when Seungmin told him that he wanted to end their relationship. 

Jisung hadn’t realized how much of a constant Minho had been in his life. Ever since they met, he had always been around, even if it was just to tease and annoy him. Although, Jisung would admit now that he had loved any form of Minho’s attention, craving it without knowing. But Jisung found he relied on him being around too much, because without him, he just felt empty. He hated that there was a hole inside his heart that couldn’t be filled, no matter how many books he read. With Seungmin, he was able to patch it with stories and immersing himself in fiction. But with Minho, Jisung found his heart ached even more after every book he finished. 

He had read all the books he had bought from the bookstore, twice. He also missed the copy of the annotated book Minho gave him so much, thinking of the way he had tossed it to the floor, not caring if he bent or damaged it at all. He wondered if he had read it, but felt almost no hope that he had. 

He was sitting on the bleachers during their practice, and since Minho was in the dugout and talking to their coach, Jisung wasn’t really paying attention to the field. He hadn’t even noticed the ball fly over the fence until it was hitting him right on his head. 

Someone had screamed something, but he hadn’t been listening. He didn’t think it pertained to him, so he ignored the loud voice. 

He looked up and saw Felix leaning on the fence and a familiar face from the team making his way over to him. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” 

He was pretty sure his name was Yeonjun. He remembered him from that time in the cafeteria, where Minho had kicked him in the stomach. 

Honestly, the baseball had hit him pretty hard, and he could definitely feel a welt forming. He had a few tears in his eyes from the pain, but he smiled anyway. 

“It’s okay, I should have been paying attention.” He blushed, as he bent down to pick up the ball that was now lying on the grass in front of him. 

“I did say watch out, but your face was buried in that book, like always.” 

Jisung didn’t really like that smirk on his face. He also didn’t like the way he was kneeling in front of him so closely. 

“Hey, you okay, Sung?” Felix had asked, and he nodded immediately. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” He gave him a thumbs up, and Felix nodded. Behind him, he could see Minho standing at the top of the dugout, with his eyes glued to him, checking out the sudden commotion. He almost had to do a double take, because he couldn’t believe it. Minho hadn't looked at him in over a week. 

He looked furious. 

And Jisung knew it was childish, but he had missed his attention so much, he would do anything at this point. 

As soon as Felix turned away, he rubbed the top of his head again, making a pained face. 

“I lied, that really hurt,” he whispered to him, and that made a wider grin spread out on his face. He leaned in and placed a hand on his knee, and Jisung tried his best not to grimace at his touch. 

“Well, I can make it up to you, if you want.” 

Jisung blinked at him with big innocent eyes.

“Oh yeah? How?” 

Yeonjun’s smirk seemed a little sinister, but Jisung didn’t care. He remembered Minho calling him a player, and he could definitely tell that he was. 

But Minho's eyes were on him. So he kept the conversation going. 

“I could take you out. Maybe treat you to a meal, show you that I’m sorry.” 

It took everything in Jisung’s body not to flinch away from his touch underneath his chin. His fingers fluttered against his skin, and he had to force a smile. 

“Are you asking me out?” he asked, and Yeonjun shrugged his shoulders. 

“I mean, you’re single now, right?”

Jisung bit his lip, and he couldn’t help the slide of his eyes behind him. Minho was glaring, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. 

His gaze flicked back to Yeonjun, and he leaned in a little closer. Their faces were only inches apart, and Jisung’s heart was racing. Only because he could feel Minho’s eyes on him. 

“Yeah, I am.” 

They both jumped when there was a ball being thrown at the fence. It smacked loudly against it, and they both turned to see Minho making his way towards them, with a bat in his hand. 

“Yeonjun, if you want to play this weekend, then get your fucking ass back behind the plate so you can work on actually getting a hit this game,” he snapped, and Jisung could see his right fist clenched around the bat. His knuckles were white. 

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, and Jisung let out a soft gasp when he felt him lean in to whisper into his ear. 

“How about Saturday?” he asked, and Jisung flushed a little seeing Minho’s jaw clench. 

He swallowed, seeing his intense gaze. 

“Yeah, I can do Saturday.” 

He said it a little loudly, hoping that he would hear it. Because if he didn’t like him anymore, then he shouldn’t have cared. If he didn’t want Jisung, then why couldn’t he go out with someone else? 

“Perfect.” 

He winked at him, and rattled off his number for him to put in his phone. Jisung could practically hear Minho grinding his teeth. He ended up throwing the bat harshly at him, but Yeonjun caught it before it could smack against his chest.

Jisung felt his heart drop when Minho’s eyes were off of him. They went back to practicing, and Minho went back to the dugout. 

He couldn’t stop his beating heart though, because if Minho didn’t want him anymore like he had claimed, then he wouldn’t have forced Yeonjun away from him. 

And if going on a date with that idiot would help him prove that Minho still had feelings for him, then he would grin and bear it for one evening. 

“You’re going out with another guy on the baseball team?” Hyunjin asked, sounding incredibly skeptical. 

Felix had promised to keep everything about Minho’s dad and his theory on why they broke up a secret. He only told Hyunjin that he broke up with him so he could focus on baseball. 

His response was almost the same as Felix’s. He hated Minho for making him cry and breaking his heart. 

Before Jisung could answer, he was asking another question. 

“Does Felix know you have a date tonight?” 

“Is this an interrogation?” he asked, and Hyunjin laughed. 

“No, but answer the questions.”

Jisung sighed. 

“His name is Yeonjun, and no, I haven’t told Felix.” He shrugged while fixing his hair in the mirror. 

“Did he ask you out?”

“He hit me in the head with a baseball on accident, so I agreed to go out to dinner with him.” 

Hyunjin was lying on his bed, looking at him suspiciously. 

“And he knows that you and Minho were a thing?”

“Um, yeah. I’m pretty sure everyone on the team knew.” 

Hyunjin rolled over so his head was hanging off the bed, upside down.  

“Interesting,” he eyed him carefully, and Jisung sighed, looking over at him. 

“What?” 

“Are you trying to make him jealous?” he asked, and that made Jisung scoff. 

“No, I’m not.”

He was definitely trying to make him jealous, but that was kind of embarrassing to admit out loud. He didn’t miss Hyunjin’s little eye roll.

“Jisung, you shouldn’t be going out with random guys just to try and make another guy jealous,” he said, and Jisung pouted. 

“And why not?” 

Hyunjin gave him a small smile. 

“So, I’ll take that as a confession that you’re going on this date to try and make him jealous,” he began, making Jisung roll his own eyes, “and because you’re not in the right headspace. I don't want you to make a rash decision, like sleeping with this guy, to try and get back at him.” 

That made Jisung wince. 

“I wouldn’t do that,” he grumbled. And he really wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He liked Minho too much to even think about anyone else. 

Hyunjin rolled back over and sat up, frowning at him gently. 

“Look, I know you think that, but your heart is hurt, and I’m just worried about you.” 

Jisung gave him a soft smile. He knew Hyunjin was just looking out for him, like always. He really was a great friend. 

“I promise I won’t do anything stupid. Hopefully I’ll just get a good free meal out of it.” 

Hyunjin shook his head but smiled. 

“Well, you look cute.”

Jisung wasn’t sure why that made him flush, but his cheeks turned pink. 

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

Hyunjin chuckled, but grabbed his phone and immersed himself with whatever was on the screen. He waved to him on his way out, and made his way towards the dorms on the north side of campus. He was supposed to meet him at his dorm, and the plan was to go downtown. 

It wasn’t a long walk, but he was kind of annoyed that he didn’t offer to meet him halfway. It took him less than twenty minutes until he was standing in front of his door, and he took a deep breath before he reached out to knock on it. 

He was surprised to see him answer immediately. He leaned against the door, dressed in all black, with silver earrings dangling from his ears. He was attractive, but he had nothing on Minho. He winced, hating that that was his first thought. 

“Hey cutie,” he greeted, and Jisung tried not to roll his eyes. Instead he flashed him a tiny smile. 

“Hi.”

Yeonjun looked him up and down, taking in his red button up cardigan and jeans. He decided he didn’t like that smug smirk of his. 

“Ready to go?”

Jisung nodded, and he hated the way he wrapped his arm around his waist, but he didn’t pull away. 

The walk wasn’t long, but he wanted it to be over. He kept touching him everywhere, and Jisung didn’t like it. His fingers curled around his waist, his shoulders, and even tickled his sides. He was also talking so much about himself that he was starting to get annoyed. He didn’t care about him at all, and a sick feeling was inside his gut as he thought about Minho. 

His phone rang with multiple texts, and normally he would ignore it since he was on a date, but he couldn’t take another minute of him talking about his workout routine. 

He opened the screen and felt his heart drop. 

They were from Minho. 

jisung

it’s an emergency

it has to do with your brother

come to our dorm

He read the messages at least ten times. He stopped on the sidewalk, dead cold in his tracks. 

“Everything alright?” Yeonjun asked, probably because he saw his wide terrified eyes. Jisung shook his head nervously.  

“N-No, something is wrong with Felix,” he said, and he felt the panic spreading throughout his entire body. 

“What? Felix?” 

He immediately called Minho, and put his phone to his ear. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. 

He called Hyunjin and then Felix, but no one was answering. He was starting to sweat. He needed to get to their dorm. Minho wouldn’t text him unless it was important. 

“I’m sorry—I have to go.” 

He heard him yell out after him, but his feet were already on the move. 

He was running so fast he thought his heart was going to explode by the time he got there. He could barely catch his breath, but his legs wouldn’t slow down. 

He rounded the corner and almost slammed into someone. He dodged them just in time, but almost tripped. He saved himself against the wall, and kept racing his way down the hall. 

When he stopped in front of their dorm, he slammed his fist onto the door repeatedly.

“Felix? Minho? Open up!” 

He almost smacked his fist into Minho’s face as he opened the door. 

“Oh, good. You’re here.” 

He sounded way too calm. Jisung pushed past him, and into the room. He looked around, and started to panic even more. 

“Where’s Felix? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” 

He turned to see Minho looking at him with confused eyes. 

“Oh, I’m about to go home for the next few days, and Felix forgot his key.”

Jisung’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. 

“What?” 

“He’s out with Hyunjin seeing a movie and wouldn’t answer, so I thought you could give it to him for me.” 

Jisung’s heart was racing. From the adrenaline and from running all the way across campus. The emotions inside him were changing as Minho tossed the keys at him. He didn’t reach out to catch them, so they hit his chest before crashing into the floor. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hissed, and Minho was staring at him like usual, with that stupid unreadable expression on his face. 

“What?” he asked, sounding so composed, unlike Jisung who was breathing heavily and shaking uncontrollably. 

“You texted me saying there was an emergency.” He was trembling. He could feel it in his spine and all the way through to his fingertips and toes. 

Minho still looked at him like he was unbothered. 

“And now it’s all solved.” He gave him a small smile, and Jisung felt something inside him snap. He picked up a book from his bedside table and chucked it at him. 

“That’s not a fucking emergency!” he screamed as the book smacked Minho’s stomach. He was seething, still breathing heavily, and feeling a little lightheaded now that he was coming down from the adrenaline. 

“Hey, be careful. What if that hit my shoulder?” he asked, like he didn’t care at all that he had just put Jisung into an absolute state of panic. 

He couldn’t believe him. 

“You—You fucking scared me. I thought something was wrong! I thought something bad happened! ” he cried, grasping at his chest where his heart was still beating rapidly. 

“How? I didn’t say he was hurt. All I said was that it was an emergency. It’s not my fault you overreacted.” 

Jisung could see it in his eyes though. He was pleased with himself. And Jisung couldn’t tell if he was extremely pissed off or a little happy that Minho seemed like he had planned this. 

“You knew I was on a date,” he accused, and as soon as he said it, Minho’s eye twitched. 

“What? How the fuck would I know that and why the hell would I care?” He was getting defensive, because he was lying. 

“I was out with Yeonjun, so you sent me that bullshit text to get me to leave in the middle of it.” 

Minho slowly rolled his eyes, making sure that Jisung had noticed it. 

“You’re fucking delusional.” 

Jisung was getting so tired of him gaslighting the shit out of him. 

“And you’re a fucking asshole!” he yelled loudly, making Minho wince. “I was—do you know how terrified I was getting that text? What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

His voice had cracked. The adrenaline had completely washed away, and it turned into rippling anxiety. It was too much, and fat tears were now sliding down his cheeks without him even realizing it. The thought that something had possibly happened to Felix was incredibly overwhelming. He also couldn’t take the way Minho was glaring at him, telling him he was crazy. 

Minho’s eyes went wide with shock, seeing those anxious tears leak out of his eyes.

“J–Jisung…” he whispered. He stepped forward, but he immediately froze. 

Jisung could see his expression change, but he still couldn’t read it. He quickly rubbed at his eyes, but he couldn’t get the tears to stop, no matter how hard he pushed against his face. 

“Don’t fucking do that. Don’t ever do that to me again,” he sobbed, not being able to control it. 

It was quiet, with the room filled with Jisung’s tiny whimpers that he couldn’t hold back. The feeling in his chest was consuming him, and he was unable to contain himself. He didn’t want to cry in front of him, it was embarrassing, but he couldn’t help it. Minho drove him insane, causing his emotions to run wild. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, with that pain laced in his tone. That made Jisung sob even harder, not expecting the softness of his voice. Minho bit his lip so hard watching him cry, that he thought he might tear it off with his teeth.

After another few minutes of him trying to catch his breath, he finally calmed down enough that the tears subsided. Minho was still standing there, watching him, frozen to his spot like he couldn’t move. 

Jisung had so much more he wanted to say, but he was feeling extremely exhausted. He wasn’t sure if he could handle Minho’s cold stare and hurtful words if he tried to get him to admit that he had done this on purpose. He would just deny it anyway. 

Jisung’s phone started to ring, and he could see Yeonjun’s name pop up on his screen. He probably wasn’t too happy that he bolted without an explanation, and he was likely concerned as well. He answered it, and he could see Minho’s jaw clench. 

“Hey,” he answered, wiping away his tears. 

“Hey, what the hell is going on? Is Felix alright?” he asked. He didn’t sound angry, but genuinely worried. 

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

“Are you alright?”

Jisung looked up, to see Minho staring at him intensely. 

“I’m okay, promise,” he said, maybe a little too sweetly. Minho’s eye twitched. 

“Good.” Jisung wondered if Minho could hear him through the receiver. “Well, I’m back at my dorm, if you want to swing by still.” 

Jisung wanted to roll his eyes, because he had absolutely no interest in that. And he knew exactly why he wanted him to come over. 

“Yeah, sure.” He agreed for now, just to see Minho’s reaction, but he would definitely text him on the way back to his dorm that he changed his mind. 

When he hung up, Minho was glaring at him. He didn’t say anything, which made his heart clench painfully. Maybe he didn’t care after all. Maybe going out with Yeonjun was completely pointless. 

He needed to leave, before he started to pathetically cry in front of him again. He tried to brush past him and out the door, but Minho reached out and grabbed him tightly by the wrist. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, and as soon as the words left his lips, he looked like he regretted asking. 

“Why the fuck do you care?” Jisung snapped. Minho took a deep breath, but refused to let go of his arm. 

“You know he’s using you, right?” he growled, and that made Jisung’s eyes go wide.

“What?” 

Minho tugged him in and Jisung gasped a little, being closer to him than he had in weeks.

“He just wants to fuck you to get back at me.” 

Jisung’s cheeks burned bright red, and he was seconds away from slapping Minho right across the face. But he could see the irritation in his eyes, and Jisung couldn’t help but stoke that fire inside him just a little bit, hopeful that it would light. 

“And why does that matter to me? I’m just looking for someone to fuck, so it all works out then, right?” He smirked. He saw Minho’s chest inflate with the tight set of his jaw. He grabbed onto Jisung even harder, making him wince, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t even realized he was strengthening his grip. 

“If you want to be the baseball team's whore, then I guess I can’t stop you.” 

He tried not to let that sting his heart, but he couldn’t help it. Minho’s eyes were cold again, and Jisung knew that gaze would stab right through him so he had to look away. He felt the tears welling up again. 

“Fuck you,” he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. He ripped his arm out of his grasp, and Minho shrugged with a dark look on his face still.

“I’m just saying, maybe you should think before you go spreading your legs to any idiot who smiles at you, because if you don’t, then I’m sure you’ll be the talk of the locker room next week.”

Jisung smacked him across the face. He couldn’t hold himself back. The words were like fire,  fueling a dangerous flame inside him, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Minho didn’t even look surprised that he had hit him, he almost looked pleased that he did. 

“You’re a fucking dick,” he hissed as Minho rubbed at his now reddened cheek. 

“And you’re acting like a whore,” he barked back, with furious eyes.

Jisung snickered, with a roll of his eyes. 

“Why do you care so much? If I want to fuck him then it’s none of your business,” he said. He couldn’t stop the lie from tumbling out of his lips, “I like Yeonjun. He’s sweet to me, touches me softly too.” He could see Minho’s chest heaving. “I’m sure he’ll fuck me good, give me just what I want—”

Jisung groaned as his back was suddenly slammed against the door. Minho’s eyes were wild, and he had his hand almost wrapped around his neck. There was no pressure though, and if Jisung wanted to push him back, he could have. But he was frozen, with Minho’s breath on his cheeks since he was so close. 

Minho’s eyes were roaming his face, and Jisung was desperately trying to read his emotions. He could barely get a handle on himself, feeling his heart slamming against his ribcage as Minho’s fingers dug into the skin of his neck. 

“Do you really think he could give you what you want?” he murmured into his ear, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

Jisung’s fingernails were scraping up the frame of the door, trying to get the words to come out of his throat. He wanted to tell him he could. He wanted to egg him on even more. But he couldn’t speak. His adrenaline was back, he could feel it racing through his veins. 

“Yeonjun is an idiot. He wouldn’t know how to satisfy you. Sure, he could fuck you, but would he know how to make you feel good? Or that you desperately need to be praised? Would he know how badly you want to be held down and forced to take it? No. He wouldn’t. You know why? Because you wouldn’t tell him that’s what turns you on because you’re shy. Because you’d be too embarrassed. And he’s too stupid to see it, so he wouldn’t learn. So, I’ll tell you this Jisung, fuck him all you want, but he’ll never satisfy you.”

Jisung’s mind was whirling. His words rang in his ears. He had nothing to say, because he was trembling from Minho’s voice in his ear so he couldn’t focus. 

He hated that everything he said was right, though. 

Jisung felt his legs go weak as Minho released his hand from his neck. His eyes raked him up and down, and Jisung wished he would come back into his space. He had missed the way his skin felt on his, he had missed the rough touch of his hands, he missed the way he smelled, and he missed that loving, tender gaze. 

But he pulled away, and Jisung felt his body weep. 

“Don’t sleep with guys who don’t respect you,” he told him softly. Jisung felt his heart snap in his chest. 

“Too late, huh?” 

The words felt like venom coming out of Jisung’s mouth. Minho blinked at the ground, and a small pained chuckle came from his throat. 

He didn’t say anything, all he did was step back and pick the keys up off the ground. He gently placed them in his hand. 

“Give these to your brother.”

That was all he said, before opening the door and closing it behind him, leaving Jisung with a racing, confused heart. 

It had been five weeks, and Jisung couldn’t stand that Minho was avoiding him even more than before. Every day, it felt like he was pulling farther and farther away, and it was getting impossible to hold on. 

They hadn’t spoken since he had left Jisung standing in his dorm room. He cried on their floor for over an hour, until Felix and Hyunjin returned from their movie. Felix wouldn’t let him brush him off this time, and he sobbed as he explained what happened, and why he was on the date he hadn’t told him about in the first place. 

Needless to say, he was pissed at Minho and he was also unhappy with Jisung for not telling him about Yeonjun, saying pretty much the same thing as Minho did. He didn’t bother telling him that he was just trying to make Minho jealous. It sounded way too pathetic, and he knew it would make Felix even more upset. 

They had an away game, and Jisung was getting ready with Hyunjin before heading out. He kept glancing at Minho’s jacket that he had given him, his name on the back catching his eye. He had worn it to almost every game, and he wished he didn’t have that pain in his chest as he left it behind. 

He wasn’t playing today, since his shoulder injury needed at least another week to heal. He knew he had visited home and was seeing tons of doctors about his shoulder, only because he made Felix tell him everything after practice. 

He knew he should probably just let him go, but he couldn’t. His heart refused to give up on him, even if he knew that it was hopeless. 

Hyunjin talked his ear off the whole way, making the trip about an hour away from campus. He was thankful though, so he wasn’t stuck inside his head. Because even though Minho wasn’t playing, he was still going to be there. 

When they hopped onto the bleachers, Hyunjin was waving excitedly at Felix who was stretching near the baseline. 

“You know, I really love your brother,” Hyunjin breathed out happily. Jisung looked over at him, seeing the blush on his cheeks. He let a wide smile come to his face for the first time in weeks. 

“And he really loves you,” he told him. He could see the love in Felix’s eyes as he looked at him. He was really happy they had found each other. Even if his own love life had completely deteriorated. 

He was watching Felix put his gear on and he had to blink a few times at the mound, making sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 

Minho was warming up. He stretched his shoulder carefully with a baseball in his hand. 

There was no way. 

He wasn’t fully healed yet. There was no way he could be cleared to play. He had played on it injured, which if anything, should have made the healing and recovery time even longer. 

He felt the rage bubble inside his stomach. Because if he was pitching, then he knew that asshole was in attendance. His eyes instantly scanned the crowd, over every row of the bleachers and every single face. 

“Wait, Minho’s pitching?” Hyunjin asked, sounding surprised. “I thought he was hurt? And if he’s not, then I thought Felix was going to break his hand.” 

Jisung would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t busy trying to find Minho’s piece of shit father in the crowd. His heart burned in his chest as his eyes landed on him, right behind the catcher. He had his arms crossed over his chest, with a deep scowl on his face. 

“He is hurt. I have no idea why he’s warming up. He shouldn’t be playing.” 

Except he knew exactly why he was out there, and it was because of that asshole glaring at his son behind home plate. 

Jisung’s gaze slid back to the mound where Minho looked just as nervous and anxious as he always did on the mound whenever his dad was watching. He could see him circling his shoulder, like he was worried about it. 

He threw a few pitches to Felix behind the plate, and he was going to kill him later for not telling him that Minho was playing in the game. His speed was just as incredible as the first time he watched him throw. Suddenly, he was mesmerized again. Minho threw every pitch perfectly, but Jisung didn’t miss the way he twitched his shoulder after every one. 

He was pushing himself. Again. And maybe no one else saw it, but Jisung could. He could see him masking that unhappy face, and it was clawing at his heart. 

He threw a few more pitches, before he fixed his cap and walked off the mound towards the bench. The game was about to start, and he could see Felix talking to Chan, and Minho breathing deeply at the edge of the dugout, like he was trying to calm himself down. 

When he took the mound in the bottom of the first, he could see him stretch his shoulder once more before relaxing into his stance. He could tell he was uncomfortable, but he threw a perfect pitch. 

He struck out every batter, and he looked relieved. Jisung noticed him constantly readjusting his shoulder, and he was fighting the urge to wince in pain. 

He couldn’t believe he was playing. He wished he could run up the mound and force him out of the game, but he knew that was ridiculous. 

Minho played well, and was taken out of the game after throwing roughly one hundred pitches. He had let up only one run, but Jisung could see he wasn’t thrilled about it. It was the top of the eighth when the reliever stepped in. 

When Jisung looked over to see his dad’s reaction, he wasn’t surprised to see that deep scowl still on his face. Jisung wished he could smack it off his lips. He hoped that Minho hadn’t seen his expression, even though he had been right behind home plate the entire time staring at him. 

Minho sat in the dugout this time, with a cool rag draped over his red face. He looked exhausted, and Jisung desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. He had pitched well, better than he had in a while, but with that cloth covering his cheeks, he couldn’t see his expression. 

They ended up winning, and Minho was being patted on the head and tapped on the shoulder by his teammates. But he sat there unmoving, with the towel still on his face. 

That’s when Jisung’s eyes instantly filtered through the crowd again, finding Minho’s dad making his way down from where he was sitting to make his way towards the locker room. 

His heart skipped a beat, and before he was even able to think properly, he was flying off the bleachers. 

“Jisung, what the hell? Where are you going? Do you have to leave me like this every time?” 

He ignored Hyunjin’s complaints, knowing he would definitely grab him back and force him to sit his ass on the bench, knowing it had nothing to do with him. But once again, he couldn’t let him go. 

He knew he could potentially make it worse. He knew that maybe it was a terrible idea. But the fact that he could see Minho with that anxiety still flowing through his body, made him remember all those tears and all those confessions. Because Jisung knew he was telling the truth that day, that he hated playing baseball, and that his dad was an absolute asshole. 

And he wasn’t about to lose the only person who ever understood him because of some abusive dick who was forcing his failed dream onto his son. Which was how he found himself screaming across the grass, with his heart hammering. 

“Hey!” 

Minho’s father stopped in his tracks, and his eyes slid over to him with those same cold eyes that Minho would look at him with. It made a shiver run up his spine, feeling and seeing the similarity. 

Jisung made his way over to him and blocked his way so he couldn’t pass him, unless he pushed him out of the way. 

“Well, if it isn’t the kid who tried to destroy my son's career.” 

That made a burst of anger rush through Jisung’s body. He clenched his fingers into fists as he tried to gather his thoughts and calm himself down. 

“If anyone is ruining his career it’s you,” he hissed at him, causing the man to chortle. He looked like he was actually about to push past him, but Jisung stood his ground. 

“His injury isn’t fully healed, and you’re forcing him to play,” he accused, and that made his father scowl deeply. 

“Forcing? Minho has been seeing doctors weekly, helping him with rehabilitation, who have cleared him to play. There are major league scouts here to recruit him. No one is forcing him into anything. He knows what he has to do to become a professional player,” he explained. 

Jisung was about to lose his mind. 

“You’re pushing him! You can see he’s still not one hundred percent but a career is more important to you than your son's well being!” 

People were starting to stare, after he had raised his voice. His dad’s anger started to intensify. 

“You know absolutely nothing. So why don’t you mind your own business and stay out of ours before I get that brother of yours tossed off the team.”

Jisung’s heart flipped in his chest, hearing him say that. Because he knew who he was, he knew his brother played on the team, and he had a smirk on his face like he had just won. He towered over him, like he was waiting for him to back down, but instead, Jisung stood even taller. 

“You can threaten your son, but you can’t threaten me.” He glared at him, and it must not have been often that someone stood up to him, because he looked a little flustered, like he wasn’t expecting him to fight back. 

“If you keep interfering with his career, then you and your brother will no longer attend this college, do you understand?”

That’s when it clicked. And Jisung’s eyes went incredibly wide. He didn’t say anything, because Minho’s dad was pushing past him like he was done with the conversation. But that’s all Jisung needed to hear to prove that he was right. 

He must have told Minho he would get Felix kicked off the team and both of them expelled from the school if he didn’t break up with him. 

Jisung felt his heart snap as he watched Minho’s dad slam open the locker room door. 

He hoped he hadn’t just made it worse, but now he knew that he was never giving up on him. 

Besides, after seeing that he couldn’t easily overpower him with his threats, and he lost that intense glare in his eye, he was pretty sure he was all bark and no bite. 

And he wasn’t about to let him give up everything just to protect him. 

Chapter Text

“Why didn’t you tell me he was playing?” Jisung asked as they made their way back to the dorms. 

He had been standing outside the locker room with Hyunjin, waiting for their post-game meeting to be over. He knew it was wishful thinking that Minho was still there since his father usually dragged him off almost instantly, but he had decided to hold onto hope. 

Unfortunately, he was already gone when Felix emerged from the locker room. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out with Hyunjin there, but he was still high on adrenaline from the conversation with Minho’s dad. 

“I honestly didn’t know. I asked our coach before the first pitch, and he said it was a game-time decision,” he explained with his innocent hands in the air. Jisung groaned in the back of the car as Hyunjin looked at him curiously through the mirror. 

“Jisung, please don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you care? He doesn’t deserve your concern.” 

That made Jisung flinch. And he knew it wasn’t his business to tell him about everything, but he couldn’t hold back until they got home to tell Felix in private. 

“I ran into his dad,” he informed his brother, ignoring Hyunjin’s eyes. Felix turned around in his seat, completely shocked. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

He nodded. 

“When?” Felix asked.

“Right after the game, before he went to the locker room.” 

Felix looked like he was recalling something as he tapped his chin. Hyunjin was looking away from the road too often with his confused eyes, glancing between the two of them, but Jisung didn’t say anything. 

“His dad came in and yanked him right out of the post-game meeting. He looked…pissed,” he told him carefully. Jisung felt his anger flare up, with a little bit of guilt surrounding his heart. It was partly his fault that his dad was taking it out on him. 

“He’s forcing him to play. His shoulder hasn’t healed, but since there were scouts there, he made him play.” 

Felix didn’t look surprised. Everyone could see he was still in pain. It was impossible to hide on the mound. It infuriated him that his coach allowed it. He knew his dad worked in the major leagues, so he was sure his word had a little bit of pull on their college coach. 

“Felix, he told me that he would get us expelled from the university if I kept interfering. He must have told Minho that, and it scared the shit out of him,” he said, and that made Hyunjin’s eyes almost pop out of his head. 

“Wait, can he do that?” he asked. 

Felix looked worried, and Jisung wondered if that was the same look Minho had when he told him the same thing. 

“Probably not. He’s probably just trying to scare us,” he said, and Felix scrunched up his face.

“We don’t know that. He could know someone. Maybe he means it.” Felix looked a little scared, and Jisung couldn’t blame him. But he could tell he was putting on a tough guy act. He was a coward, trying to bully around his kid. 

“I don’t think so.” That was all he could say, but he knew he had to try and convince Felix because he needed someone to help. 

“Well—regardless,” Hyunjin said, pulling Felix’s hand into his, seeing how nervous he was. “What are you gonna do? I mean, he broke up with you and has been treating you like shit, you can’t just ignore that.” 

Jisung sighed, leaning against the back seat. It wasn’t his fault. 

“It’s not his fault,” he whispered, and that made Hyunjin sigh. “His dad is abusive, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin froze, blinking ahead at the road and looking a little guilty. He obviously didn’t know how to respond to that. But it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know. 

“I just don’t see it being easy for him to walk away from it. His dad seems to have him pretty controlled,” Felix interrupted, placing a gentle hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. 

Jisung knew Hyunjin was just trying to look out for him, and he knew Felix was just being the voice of reason. But Jisung was getting pissed. 

“So I’m just supposed to give up? I’m supposed to look the other way when I know he’s unhappy and needs help? I—I love him, Hyunjin. I can’t let his dad do this to him, to us, it’s not fucking fair!” he yelled, and that made Felix flinch.

“Then what are you going to do? Because he could get hurt, so could you, and so could your brother,” Hyunjin asked, and Jisung could hear the concern laced in his voice. 

Jisung bit his lip, feeling the nerves surrounding his heart. He knew that was all true, he couldn’t deny it, but he needed to do something. He couldn’t just let Minho go. 

And he knew it might all be for nothing. Minho might never listen to him, too afraid of his father to fight back. But he had to try. 

“We need to find him,” he said, and both Felix and Hyunjin stared at him through the mirror this time. “And I’m going to need your help.” 

Getting him alone was tough. He avoided Felix like the plague, and if he even thought he saw Jisung out of the corner of his eye, he would hightail it before he could get close enough. Jisung sighed, knowing it wasn’t going to be easy. 

He thought maybe the best course of action would be to trap him after a game, but now that the scouts seemed to be coming out in numbers, his dad was there almost every single time. He watched as he sat in the stands, making Minho squirm as he pitched. Jisung was furious that he was pitching again, seeing the same pain on his face bothering him. He looked even more hurt than before, and Jisung wondered just what his dad was trying to accomplish. 

He sighed, sitting in the stands as he watched. He felt so fucking helpless that it was killing him. He took a deep breath though, because after the game tonight, they were going to have an intervention. Felix and Hyunjin were going to help him and try to get him to understand that he wasn’t alone. Because maybe if he just realized that they were there to help him, he could find the strength to fight back. 

They won the game by a run, and Jisung winced seeing Minho’s relieved face when it was finally over. He clenched his fingers on the bench, wanting to run after him as they retreated into the locker room. He could see Minho’s dad getting down from the stands and heading after the team. He gritted his teeth, and Hyunjin had to grab him by the arm to settle him down. 

“Hey, relax. If you’re all worked up, it’ll make him feel like we’re attacking him. You don’t want that.” 

Jisung let out that deep breath he was holding, knowing he was right. But it was so difficult to watch Minho just throw away all his happiness and push down his feelings for that asshole who didn’t care about him. 

“I know…I’m calm. I swear,” he assured him. 

He looked over to see Hyunjin checking his phone. Jisung was incredibly nosey, so he couldn’t help but lean over his shoulder to check his screen.

“It’s your brother. He told Minho that we all were going to see a movie tonight and then staying at our dorm, so he knows he has his dorm to himself,” he said, and that made Jisung’s heart race quickly in his chest. They had been desperately trying to get Minho alone for the past week, but it was almost impossible. 

He hadn’t been staying at the dorms when Felix was there, and Jisung was pretty sure he was skipping his classes. He barely saw him on campus, even when he would walk his route. 

“Come on, we should probably get to the dorms,” Hyunjin said, and Jisung nodded, following after him. 

He was nervous because he had no idea if this was going to work or not. He had everything planned that he wanted to say, but Minho might just ignore it. His breathing was a little shaky as they walked, and Hyunjin had to pull him by the elbow a few times to slow him down. He was anxious, because if he couldn’t change his mind tonight, then he wasn’t sure if he ever could. 

It had been a while since he had been in Felix’s dorm. Since Felix had been spending all his time in their dorm recently, and Minho was avoiding him like crazy, there was no point. He shivered, thinking of the last time when Minho had him pinned against the door, whispering into his ear and sending those crazy shivers up his spine. His heart clenched, thinking about it, wishing he knew what Minho had been thinking. 

Hyunjin unlocked the door, using Felix’s key that he had given him, and when they stepped inside, Jisung’s eyes went wide. 

Minho’s side of the room was an absolute disaster, even worse than last time. He winced, seeing an ungodly amount of beer cans on his dresser and littered all over the floor. His pillows and blankets were tossed all over the floor, and his sheets were only half on the bed. There were books everywhere, and Jisung’s heart snapped, seeing some of them ripped to shreds. His heart slammed in his chest when he realized there were some of Jisung’s favorites. 

He swallowed back his tears, seeing the mess. He walked over to the bed as Hyunjin sat down on Felix’s clean bedspread, completely void of any clutter. 

“He’s not okay,” Hyunjin whispered, seeing the disarray of Minho’s things. It was almost shocking. Jisung couldn’t help but start picking up a little. His heart ached as he did so, grabbing a plastic bag and tossing all the trash inside. 

“Do you want some help?” Hyunjin asked gently, and that made Jisung shake his head. 

“No…I got it.” 

He could have said yes, but he just wanted to do it himself. He wanted so desperately to help him, and it was terrifying to think about what would happen to him if he couldn’t do anything. 

“I can tell that you love him, by the way,” Hyunjin said, and that made the tears start welling in Jisung’s eyes. “I know this is hard, but Jisung, if he doesn’t accept our help, it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself, because you tried.” 

The tears fell down his cheeks as he heard that. He bit his lip hard, trying to stop them, but couldn’t. He couldn’t keep them back when Hyunjin was looking at him like he knew this would end in disaster. Because not all stories had happy endings, and sometimes, that’s just how life was. 

He didn’t say anything as he continued to clean Minho’s side of the room. When he started picking up the shredded book with damaged bindings and ripped-out pages, the tears started flowing even faster. He knew he had to get a grip because he needed to be strong if Minho came back to the dorm. He still wasn’t even sure if he would or not. It was likely that his dad would force him to go back home again. But if he did, then Jisung needed a reassuring and confident smile on his face, not some heartbroken, teary expression that would scare him even more. 

He froze when he moved the pile, seeing the book he had given him lying amongst the chaos. But it wasn’t ripped and torn like the rest, it was still in the condition that Jisung had given it to him in. 

He slowly picked it up, sitting on his knees as he flipped it open, feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces. He could see writing, and he could see the remnants of tear stains that had made the ink bleed. Minho had written next to it, and the handwriting looked shaky.

Love is complicated. It shouldn’t be.

But I’ll never give up on you. Baby, please, you have to.

My wish for a love like that came true when we met. I’m so sorry that I had to break your heart like this. All of this is my fault. 

He sobbed louder than he meant to, his broken heart taking over his entire body.

“Jisung?” Hyunjin asked, getting up from Felix’s bed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Jisung quickly closed the book, knowing that he couldn’t show him. Those were definitely words that he hadn’t wanted anyone else to see. But now, everything was all making sense and proving that Minho still loved him. He didn’t want to let him go but felt he had to.

“N–Nothing…I’m fine,” he lied. He placed the book by his side and started picking up the rest of them. There was writing all over the pages with similar tear stains and torn spines. His heart was shattering, seeing all the love stories ripped apart like he couldn’t bear to read them anymore. 

Hyunjin didn’t try to ask him if he was alright again, he just let him pick up everything on his own. He tried to fix the books the best he could, but it was useless. Even so, he couldn’t help but try. 

When his room was cleaner than it was, he sat down on the bed, brushing his fingers over the book Minho had given him all those weeks ago. It was quiet between them, with Hyunjin checking his phone every now and then as Jisung wiped at his tears. 

“Hey, your brother said Minho left the training room and it looks like he’s on the way to the dorms,” he told him. Jisung suddenly felt his heart hammering in his chest. He bit his lip, trying to rub the rest of the tears away the best he could, knowing he needed to pull it together. Hyunjin could obviously see how tense he was because he walked over and grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“It’ll be okay. No matter what happens, Felix and I will be here for you. For both of you, okay?” he asked, and Jisung nodded, giving Hyunjin’s wrists a tight squeeze. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, just hoping that Minho wouldn’t run away again. 

They both jumped when the door opened, with Minho looking down at the floor as he entered. He flinched when his eyes cast up, seeing Jisung sitting on his bed and Hyunjin standing by his dresser. 

He looked shocked at first, and then the anger took over, masking those feelings inside of him, just like he always did. 

“What the fuck are you two doing in here?” he snapped, Jisung winced as Hyunjin glared at him. 

Before either of them could answer, Minho gasped, being pushed in the back. Felix entered the room and shut the door behind him. 

Minho looked confused, his eyes flicking between the three of them as they circled him. He clenched his fist on the strap of his bag when he saw Jisung holding the book and that his side of the room was cleaner than when he had left it earlier. 

“What are you—” 

“We need to talk to you,” Felix said, and Minho rolled his eyes. 

He warned them that he would get extremely defensive. 

“About what? How many times do I have to tell your fucking brother that he needs to get the fuck out of my life before he gets it through his fucking head?”

He told them that he would get mean. 

“Minho, just listen to what we have to say, please?” Hyunjin said, and that made Minho’s eyes slide over to him with a piercing glare. 

“I barely even know you, so what the fuck could you possibly have to say?” he growled, but Hyunjin’s expression didn’t change. He looked completely unbothered by his aggression or his words. 

Jisung wasn’t sure why he sat there frozen, but Minho’s wild eyes and furious tone had him worried. He was already acting so hostile, and it made him nervous that he wasn’t going to listen at all. 

“Minho, we know what’s been going on with your dad, and we know you’re still hurt, and he’s been making you pitch,” Felix said, obviously taking the lead as he saw Jisung completely choked up. He was trying to get the words out, but just couldn’t. 

Minho scoffed, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’m pitching because I want to. The scouts are in the stands at every game. I guess you wouldn’t know that because you’re a shitty ball player, so they wouldn’t even bother looking into you.” 

Jisung could see Felix’s jaw clench, but he hoped that he remembered that Minho didn’t mean anything that he was saying. The more he tried to hide his true heart and feelings, the harsher he would get. 

“We can help you, Minho,” Hyunjin said, and that made his eyes whip around furiously. 

“Help me with what? I don’t know what you guys are talking about, and you need to seriously get the fuck out.” 

But Jisung could see that he was starting to break, especially when Jisung stood up with the book in his hands. Minho’s nervous eyes trailed down to where he held it, and he didn’t even need to look into his eyes to know that he read what was inside. 

“I love you,” Jisung said softly, and Minho’s eyes went wide. “I want to help you. So, please, stop pushing me away,” he begged. Minho’s chest started to heave with angry, nervous breaths. He could see him gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. 

Minho opened his mouth to respond, and Jisung could see his eyes glistening. That was the first time he had ever said that, but he meant it, so much that he needed him to hear him say it. 

Jisung stepped closer, and Minho took a step back shaking his head. 

“Stop it, Jisung,” he warned, and Jisung shook his head. 

“No, I won’t let you do this. I told you before that you can tell me things.” 

Minho was still shaking his head.

“You don’t—You don’t understand,” he whispered angrily, and Jisung was the one to shake his head now. 

“I do understand. I know you’re trying to protect me—and Felix too,” he said, and Jisung’s heart snapped when he saw the tears leaking down Minho’s cheeks. “We know he told you that he would get us expelled if you didn’t do what he wanted. But he’s just trying to get in your head.” 

Minho covered his face with his hand, letting out a muffled cry. 

“No…he’ll do it. He’ll find a way…or he’ll hurt you somehow…like he does to me…please,” he begged, and Jisung could see his tears streaming down his face. 

“He won’t, and I’m not going to let him hurt you anymore either, okay?” he asked. Minho pulled his hands away, looking at him with hopeless eyes and making Jisung’s heart shatter. He was so afraid of his father that it was hard for him to believe that there was any hope of getting away from him, but Jisung would do anything to make sure he left Minho alone. 

Minho collapsed to the ground, sobbing into his hands. Jisung couldn’t hold himself back, wrapping his arms around him, and rubbing his back softly. He had been through so much these last few weeks, so close to the breaking point, that this was all it took. 

Felix walked over and placed a soft hand on Minho’s head, and he was so hurt that he didn’t even fight it. 

“Minho, you don’t have to go through this shit all by yourself. The whole team has your back, and our coach too. Baseball should be fun, right? But you’re putting too much pressure on yourself to appease someone else. You don’t have to be the best of the best. Hell, you don’t even have to play if you don’t want to. I only want you to play because you enjoy it, and not for any other reason.” 

Jisung was surprised to hear that come from Felix’s mouth. Those two had been fighting since day one, and seeing Felix’s soft fingers raking through Minho’s hair was something he never thought he would see. 

Minho didn’t respond. He just grabbed onto Jisung’s shirt, clenching it so tightly. 

Jisung gave Felix a teary smile, knowing he couldn’t hold back the feelings himself. He saw Hyunjin grab Felix’s hand, shoving him close to the door. He knew he was trying to tell him that they should leave and that Jisung and Minho needed a moment alone. Felix refused to go before Jisung gave him a thumbs up, and when he did, trying to tell him that everything was okay, then he closed the door behind him. 

Jisung wasn’t sure how long he held Minho in his arms as he sobbed. He whispered apology after apology into his chest as he pressed his forehead into it. He just continued to rub small soothing circles on his back, and the intense anxiety he had inside his heart the last few weeks was finally starting to dissipate. 

“Why? You should just—just let me go. Why—Why are you…All I do…is hurt you,” he cried, holding onto him even tighter. 

Jisung shushed him, squeezing him as close as he could. 

“Because I know how much you care about me. You just wanted to keep me safe, right?” he asked, and Minho nodded his head.

“I was—I was afraid he would do something to you. He always…would hurt me or my mom, and I couldn’t…I don’t want him to touch you,” he whispered, and Jisung rocked him back and forth, trying to get him to calm down. 

“Hey, it’s okay. He won’t, he’s not going to.” 

Minho cried for a little longer, and Jisung was trying to be strong, taking deep breaths as he clung to him desperately. He knew that getting Minho to overcome that fear of his father would take more than just one intervention. He knew that it wouldn’t be easy to dodge him. But if getting that asshole out of Minho’s life meant that he could be happier, then he would do it. 

When Minho finally pulled back, Jisung grabbed his face in his hands. His cheeks were bright red, which matched his wet eyes. He brushed his thumbs gently on his warm skin, and Minho was just staring at him like he couldn’t believe he was real. 

“I’m sorry that I had to break your heart,” he whispered, and that made Jisung’s breath hitch. He repeated the words he had written in the book, shattering him like glass. 

“It’s not your fault,” he told him with a smile, and more tears streamed down Minho’s face. 

“I love you, Jisung.” 

Jisung bit his lip as Minho looked directly into his eyes, and all the pain he had felt over the last few weeks was threatening to spill over. Before Jisung could answer, Minho pulled him in to press their lips together. He let out a shocked little gasp, feeling the desperation in his hands as he gripped his face. It was wet, with their tears mixing together, but Jisung didn’t mind. He had missed the way he kissed him so much that even more spilled down his cheeks. 

They were still on the floor, but Minho pushed him back, kissing him even deeper and sliding his tongue into his mouth. Usually, when they kissed, it was so urgent and feverish, like they needed more and more of each other until they could barely breathe. 

But this time, it was slow as Minho caressed his cheek, whispering that he was sorry again and again when he would pull back for soft breaths. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Jisung whispered back. Minho shook his head, kissing him repeatedly like if he let him go, he might never get him back. 

He crawled on top of him, and Jisung wondered what was going on inside his head. The tears were still pouring out of his eyes, and Jisung could tell that he was still worried and scared. 

“Hey,” he said as he pulled back for a slight moment before diving back in. Jisung had to push him back by his chest, and Minho’s pained eyes shined down at him when he was forced to pull away. “Be honest with me, does your shoulder still hurt?” he asked. 

Minho blinked nervously, like he was trying to think of something to say. Jisung was happy when he nodded, deciding not to lie to him. 

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been lying to the doctors, haven’t you?” he asked, and Minho bit his lip. 

He nodded again. 

“I thought…the pain meds would be enough,” he admitted, and that made Jisung sigh. 

“Come here,” he said, wrapping him up in another hug. Minho was crushing him, but he didn’t even care. He stroked his fingers across his back, feeling his breathing returning to normal. Minho held onto him desperately, and Jisung had never seen him so vulnerable and compliant the entire time he had known him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, and Jisung shook his head. 

“Stop that. You shouldn’t be. You were afraid, and I understand,” he assured him.

“I hurt you so badly,” he said, and Jisung couldn’t even deny that, because he had. 

“You were just trying to protect us.” 

“But it didn’t even work.” His voice was shaky, like he was trying to hold his tears back. 

“Because you didn’t need to protect us, Minho. You’re the one that needed us. I promise you, I will not let him hurt you anymore. I’ll do whatever I have to. We can change schools, we can go anywhere. You can come home with Felix and me for the holidays. But you don’t need him in your life, Minho. He can’t tell you what to do anymore, and you don’t have to listen to him.” 

Another sob left Minho’s chest as he clutched onto him desperately. 

“But—my whole life…this is what I’ve…” he trailed off, and Jisung knew that there would be an emptiness in his heart for a while. 

“It’ll be okay. Maybe not right now, but we’ll figure it out,” he told him, and Jisung thought his ribs were going to snap with how hard Minho was crushing him to his chest. 

Minho pulled back again, caressing Jisung’s face, looking at him like there were so many things going on in his head. Jisung wished he could pick all those feelings apart, wanting to tell him that he didn’t have to worry anymore. But instead, he pulled him back down to slot their lips together, showing him that everything was going to be okay.

“Jisung,” he mumbled against his lips, and when he pulled back, his eyes were the most filled with pain he had ever seen. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him,” he said desperately, and Jisung’s eyes went wide. 

“What?” he asked, even though he didn’t need to. He knew exactly who and what he was talking about. But Minho’s hurt expression was hurting him so much that the words he wanted to say wouldn’t come out of his mouth. 

“Tell me you didn’t sleep with him. Please, tell me that you didn’t,” he repeated, and Jisung’s hands immediately flew to his face, making a soft gasp leave his lips. 

“No, babe. I didn’t, I swear that I didn’t,” he assured him, and he winced when Minho gripped his wrist tightly. 

“He was saying how he went out with you. He was telling everyone all this vague fucking shit in the locker room, like he was trying to piss me off and...please just fucking tell me it isn’t true,” he begged, and Jisung was still shaking his head. 

“I never slept with him. We barely even went on that date. You ruined it, remember?” he told him with a smile. A small amount of relief took over his face, but he looked hurt once again.

“I’m sorry. I made you cry that night. But knowing you were with him...I couldn’t fucking handle it. I knew I had to let you go, and I knew you weren’t mine anymore, but—I couldn’t…” he explained, and Jisung’s heart burst in his chest. He finally admitted it. He knew he wasn’t crazy. 

“I was still yours,” he whispered, and Jisung felt a shiver run through Minho’s body as he wrapped his arms around his neck. “All I wanted was you, not him.” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, shaking his head. “You have no idea how fucking crazy that made me. No fucking idea.” 

“It’s okay. Nothing happened,” he told him again, and Minho let out a deep sigh. 

“I love you,” he said, making Jisung’s heart flutter. “I fucking love you, Jisung.” 

More tears came, but before Jisung could wipe them away, Minho pressed their lips together. This time, there was desperation, and Jisung’s stomach fluttered with excited butterflies. It had been so long since they had each other, and with Minho’s fingers tickling up his shirt, his heart was racing. 

“I love you too,” he whispered, pulling Minho so close that it was impossible to get any closer. 

He felt Minho’s fingers twitch on his skin, pulling away just as quickly as they found their way under the fabric. He leaned up, trying to pull himself away, but Jisung wouldn’t let him. 

“Where are you going?” Jisung asked softly, tugging him down. Minho bit his lip and closed his eyes. 

“You should be pissed at me,” he said, and that made Jisung force him down so that their noses were touching. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he told him, and Minho sighed. 

“You should be,” he mumbled, looking guilty. 

“I knew from the start that you were being forced to break up with me. I knew he was threatening you.”

Minho grimaced, like he was remembering the way he shattered his heart all those weeks ago. 

“When you—came to the dorm to give me the book I gave you, I almost broke. And when I read what you wrote…” he trailed off, looking so tortured. “It’s like no matter what I did, you refused to give up.” 

“Because I know you love me,” he whispered, trying to pull him even closer. He wished Minho would stop resisting. 

“I do, but I hurt you,” he replied, but Jisung kept pulling. 

“You did, but not because you wanted to.” 

“That doesn’t make it okay,” he murmured, and Jisung could feel him breaking. 

“So make it up to me,” he whispered against his lips before slowly bringing him in for a gentle kiss. Minho allowed him to press their mouths together, even though Jisung could still feel him hesitating. 

“Jisung—”

“Please, fuck me like I’m yours,” he begged, and he could feel Minho freeze. “I’ve missed you so much. I want you, babe. I want you to hold me down and fuck me like I’m yours and promise to never leave me again, no matter what hap—”

Minho slammed his lips to Jisung’s, cutting off the end of his sentence. Jisung groaned as he finally snapped him, making him shove his shirt up his chest. 

“Say it again,” he whispered into his ear, and Jisung whined as he leaned down to suck gently on his neck, right where he knew would make Jisung shudder. “Tell me what you want, Jisung.”

“Fuck me,” he begged, knowing that would make Minho lose his mind. And he was losing his as well. 

Minho sat up quickly and yanked his shirt off his head, immediately grabbing Jisung’s as well. They were still on the floor, but they were too anxious to have each other to move to the bed. 

Jisung could feel his body aching for it. Minho had him desperate, but his heart clenched a little, seeing his nervous eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching up to touch Minho’s cheek. He grabbed his wrist and softly kissed his palm, which made Jisung’s heart race desperately. 

“Nothing,” he told him. “I’ve just missed you.”

Jisung just smiled as he trailed his lips up his arm, peppering little kisses all the way to his cheek. 

“I missed you too, so, so much.” 

Minho kissed his lips, soft and gentle, making Jisung melt into him so easily. 

“I’ll make you feel good. So fucking good, baby.”

Jisung could tell he wasn’t going to let him forgive him so easily. But he didn’t need him to torture himself.

“I’ll be good for you,” he whispered, blushing a little. He was always shy and never able to find his voice, but this time it came out. He would wait for Minho to pry those feelings inside of him until he couldn’t possibly hold them back any longer. But he wanted Minho to crave him. He wanted to drive him insane.

Minho groaned a little, and Jisung whined when he felt his hands grip his waist. 

“I know you will. You’re always so good for me,” he said sweetly, and Jisung’s entire body shook. 

Minho kissed all over his body, and Jisung squirmed a little under his lips. His skin felt sensitive, deprived of Minho’s touch for weeks. It was like he became addicted. 

But his heart ached when he thought of all the words he had said the last few weeks. 

“Minho?” 

Minho froze instantly near his navel. 

“Yeah, baby?” he questioned gently, sounding a little nervous. 

“You’re not…bored of me…right? You didn’t mean that?” He couldn’t help but ask. Those words had been bothering him for weeks. 

Minho immediately crawled back up, kissing his lips again before brushing his thumb over his face. 

“No, sweetheart. I didn’t mean that at all. I could never get bored of you. You mean everything to me. I was…trying to hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologized, seeming genuinely regretful. 

Jisung blushed, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have asked that. Minho looked even more pained now, and Jisung knew he hadn’t meant it. But for some reason, he needed to hear it. He couldn’t help the anxiety deep in his gut, telling him that maybe he really did get tired of him. 

“Okay...I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Minho shook his head over and over again. 

“No, you have no reason to be sorry. I said shit I shouldn’t have. I was a dick and an asshole and everything you always said I was.” He frowned, and Jisung gripped his arms, squeezing tightly. 

“You’re not any of those things.” 

“Yes, I am,” he argued sadly, and Jisung wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to change his mind. 

“You’ve been hurt, Minho,” he tried to tell him, but Minho shook his head again. He didn’t say anything, he just leaned down and kissed his lips again. He kissed him deeply, like he was trying to tell him he was sorry. Jisung kissed him back, accepting his apology immediately. 

Minho’s hands trailed down to his waistband, and Jisung felt his breath hitch. It had been too long since he had touched him. 

“I wanna hear you,” Minho whispered to him, and Jisung nodded obediently. 

“Okay,” he answered, knowing Minho would want to hear it. 

He gently tugged down his pants, making Jisung clench his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly nervous, but he felt Minho sliding them down his thighs, and his mind was whirling. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Minho complimented him, and that made Jisung’s heart flutter. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

Jisung’s hands instantly flew to Minho’s hair as he felt his tongue at the tip of his cock. He moaned loudly, feeling incredibly sensitive. 

“My baby, only mine,” he whispered before taking the head between his lips. Jisung let out a sharp breath, feeling the intense pressure wrapping around him. Minho was brutally slow with him, teasing his tongue perfectly up and down until Jisung’s entire body was twitching. 

His heart was racing, his breath was erratic, and they just started. It was almost embarrassing how quickly Minho had him panting and whining for it. 

“Minho, Minho, Minho,” he whined, knowing that hearing his name would drive him crazy. He loved it when Jisung begged. 

Minho splayed his hands over his thighs, holding his hips down. Jisung kept accidentally fucking his hips too, choking him a little. 

Minho popped off for a second, pressing Jisung’s pelvis down to the floor. “Stay still,” he demanded.

Jisung whimpered, scratching his nails against the shitty dorm room rug. 

“Okay,” he replied, and that response had Minho sucking him back down. He was tossing his head back and forth as Minho took him all the way, nudging the tip against the back of his throat.

He could feel himself getting close as Minho quickened his pace. 

“Minho—close,” he whined, trying to stay still as he told him to, but it was hard. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up when he took him down all the way again. He bit his lip nervously as Minho pulled off to look at him carefully. 

Jisung panicked. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, not wanting to disappoint him. “I didn’t—I tried, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I’ll stay still. I swear, I promise.”

He was surprised when Minho just kissed his hip bone, rubbing gently soothing circles on his skin. 

“No, baby. You did well, don’t be sorry,” he told him, and Jisung let out a relieved breath. But his anxiousness was taking over, desperately needing Minho to want him, to praise him, to tell him how perfect he was. He needed it. 

“I want—to be good. I want you to tell me…” he trailed off, feeling so embarrassed. 

“Then open your legs for me. Show me where you want me,” he said, tapping at Jisung’s knee. He quickly opened his thighs, pressing his feet flat on the ground. He was shaking and wasn’t sure if it was from the excitement, nervousness, desperation, or a combination of all three.  

“Good boy,” he praised, and that made Jisung whimper. He then felt fingers pressing at his lips, and Minho didn’t even need to tell him to open them before Jisung took them into his mouth. Minho chuckled, feeling him suck and lick around them without even being told. 

“You want my fingers that badly?” he asked, and Jisung nodded. If he didn’t have his index finger almost shoved down the back of his throat and was playing with his tongue, he would have told him how much he needed him. 

Jisung spread his saliva around his fingers, knowing Minho was going to fuck him open with them. He whined when they left his mouth, and Minho pressed a quick kiss to his messy lips. 

“We should go to the bed,” Minho suggested, but Jisung shook his head. He already had his legs spread and made Minho’s fingers wet. He needed him now, so he grabbed his shoulders to stop him from leaving. 

“No—I want it here. I want you, now, please,” he begged, knowing that would make Minho give him what he wanted.  

“Alright,” he said, pressing kisses all over his face. He was being extra sweet, and Jisung’s heart was fluttering. “But let me grab some things first.”

It was torture to feel his body heat leave him, and he wanted to grab him back as he walked away. He watched him desperately, seeing him grab a small tube from the drawer of his dresser. 

When he turned, his eyes raked over him, and Jisung felt incredibly naked and embarrassed, sprawled out desperately on the floor of their dorm. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered. Jisung could feel the blush bleed from his cheeks and down to his chest.

“Babe,” he whined, trying to get Minho to come back to him. He let out a happy breath when Minho padded back over and placed a hand on his cheek. 

“I’m here,” he said, brushing his thumb gently over his flushed cheek. Jisung snuggled into his touch, needing more of it. 

“I want you,” he whimpered, hoping that would make Minho move a little faster. He opened his legs even more, and Minho smiled, seeing him so desperate. 

“Then tell me your mine,” Minho said suddenly, making Jisung’s lidded eyes glance over at him. 

“Tell me you won’t love anyone else. Tell me that is only me.” 

Jisung saw his desperate face, and he wished he could get that look to go away. 

“I love you, and only you. I’ve never loved someone so much like this,” he admitted, knowing that was incredibly deep. But he needed him to know. “No one has ever known me like you do. No one has ever loved me like this.” 

Jisung swore he saw tears in Minho’s eyes again. He reached down to press another soft kiss to his lips before kneeling in between his thighs. 

“I need you by my side, Jisung,” Minho whispered. Before Jisung could respond, Minho gently shoved a wet finger into him, stealing all the words from his lungs. He couldn’t get anything out as Minho pressed in, getting as deep as he could with just one finger inside of him. 

“I’m not enough for you, but I fucking need you,” he said, and Jisung’s words were still stuck in his chest as Minho fucked him slowly, spreading him perfectly. 

He wanted to tell him that he was enough. He wanted to scream at him that it wasn’t true. That his father had put that notion in his head. He was trying , and that’s all he could ask for. It wasn’t his fault that he was abused. And he needed to know that. 

“You are enough,” he breathed out, struggling to think with the intense pleasure inside him. He felt Minho’s other hand caressing his knee gently, and when he looked at him between his legs, he saw a sad smile on his face. He wished he could wipe it away. 

“No one has ever believed in me like you,” he said, shoving another finger into him. “You’re the only one…who has ever seen me,” 

Jisung was wriggling on his fingers, not staying still as he told him to. But Minho was definitely being soft, not even mentioning his squirming. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked instead, and Jisung desperately nodded his head. 

“So—So good,” he moaned, and he was thrilled to finally see a soft smile on Minho’s face. 

“Tell me who makes you feel this good,” he demanded, and Jisung arched his back as Minho added a third finger. 

“You—Minho—please—”

“Please what?” he asked, and Jisung was trembling as he shoved three fingers in and out of his body at a steady pace. 

“Fuck me, please, fuck me,” he whined, feeling the desperation taking over his body. He needed him so badly that he thought he was going to pass out. 

He had missed him so much and knew he told him to stay still, but he reached out to grab his arm, to squeeze into him tightly. 

“I—I want you,” he practically cried, and Minho suddenly pulled his fingers from his body. Jisung whimpered, feeling his rim twitching around nothing but air. 

“Tell me how you want me,” Minho said, crawling closer to place a kiss on Jisung’s stomach. Jisung grabbed him, pulling him up. He pressed their foreheads together, and Jisung’s heart raced as the front of Minho’s thighs pushed into the back of his, lifting his legs. 

“I want you close like this,” he whispered, feeling Minho’s breath waft over his face, smelling that familiar mint that he missed so much. 

“Me too,” he breathed out, and Jisung whined when he felt his press against his rim. He slowly pushed in, and it had been a while, so Jisung accidentally clawed at Minho’s back, definitely leaving marks. He saw a tiny smirk on his face, not even fazed by the painful scratches. 

Jisung could barely catch his breath as he pushed in, stealing all the oxygen from his lungs. He wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, grabbing onto him and bringing him as close as he could. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, trying to relax as Minho sunk in deeper. 

“Always so tight,” Minho said before pressing a deep kiss to his lips, trying to distract him from the pressure. 

Jisung would have argued with him, saying that he was just big, but Minho’s tongue swirled against his, muffling his words and moans. He was still for a bit as they tasted each other, just the feeling of being connected was enough to satisfy him. 

He had missed him so much, and he couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down his face. The anxiety took over his body, and the build-up of everything that had happened over the last six weeks had officially overtook him, wracking his body with sobs. 

“No, baby. Don’t cry, please. I’m so—fuck—I’m so sorry for everything,” Minho said, and Jisung just shook his head. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered, more to himself than anything. Minho just held him tight, and Jisung didn’t even care that they weren’t moving. He was just happy to have him, feeling him inside him and never wanting him to leave. 

Minho pulled back a little to kiss his wet eyes. 

“I’m gonna move now,” he told him, acting so sweet and gentle. Jisung liked it when he was demanding and bossed him around, but this kind and caring Minho was just as perfect. He wanted more of him. 

“Slow…” he whispered, and Minho obliged. He fucked into him gently, slowly, and deliberately. Jisung couldn’t help but throw his head back against the floor, accidentally slamming it. But he barely even registered the pain since the pleasure was so damn good. 

“Be careful, sweetheart, or I’ll move us to the bed,” he said, and that made Jisung whine even louder. 

“No bed—just fuck me. Here, harder, more,” he begged, knowing he sounded like a desperate, whiny brat. But Minho didn’t even question him or tell him to be patient. He gave him exactly what he pleaded for, and Jisung whined and moshed mother as he fucked him hard, just like he wanted. 

“Look at you, so fucking good for me,” Minho breathed out, pulling Jisung’s leg up to get at a deeper angle. 

“I’m good—for you. I want to be—good,” he tried to choke out, and Jisung could hear his sharp intake of breath right in his ear as he leaned down. 

“You’re so perfect, Jisung. I love you so much, baby. I don’t deserve you, but I hate being without you,” he told him, and that made Jisung pull him closer. 

“I won’t let you—get away from me. I never had, and I never will,” he said, making a small chuckle fall from Minho’s lips. 

“You’re always in my head,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Good,” Jisung whispered, pulling him down forcefully so he could slam their lips together again. Minho kissed him deeply as he fucked him, eating his moans and brushing his hair behind his ears. He wiped away his stray tears and held him as tightly as possible, whispering how good he was being. 

“You take me so well, sweetheart. I’m going to cum, so fucking deep inside you,” he whispered to him, and Jisung’s entire body jolted. He was so close, and he couldn’t believe that just hearing Minho say that drove him so crazy. 

“Cum inside. I’ve missed feeling full of you,” he said, hoping that would make Minho lose his mind. 

It must have worked because he felt his hips slam into him, and he bit down on his neck, sucking a mark as he grunted against his skin. 

Jisung could feel him twitching inside of him, and as soon as Minho got a hand on him between their bodies, he was done for. All he had done was grasp him in his hand and flick his thumb over the tip, and he was busting all over his tummy.  

He felt the intense pleasure surge through his spine, making him whine loudly, and not even caring if anyone else in the complex heard. 

Both of them were breathing heavily, and Jisung was surprised when Minho wrapped his arms around him, still pressed deep as he could be and definitely spreading Jisung’s release over both of their skins. He squeezed him, like he was afraid to let him go. 

Jisung wrapped him around his neck, pulling him just as closely. He almost wished that they could have lasted longer so they could be connected for just a little while longer. But Minho was softening inside of him, and his back was kind of aching from the floor. 

When he finally pulled out, they both let out a groan. Jisung felt himself leaking onto the floor, but he didn’t even care. Minho quickly cleaned him, grabbing his shirt and wiping his body with it. Jisung didn’t even complain as he pressed the soft fabric against his sore rim, knowing he was probably a filthy mess. 

Minho pressed more kisses to his face before running to his closet and finding a t-shirt for Jisung to wear. He could have worn his own, but he knew Minho liked seeing him in his clothes. He tossed it over his head and pressed another kiss to his forehead before hooking his arms under his legs and back, lifting him to the bed. 

It wasn’t too late, but Jisung could see that Minho looked incredibly exhausted. He knew his shoulder was probably bothering him, especially after what they had just done, and the stress from the last six weeks of being apart was likely weighing on him. Just like it had for Jisung. 

He looked anxious again, like he wanted to say something, but Jisung just pressed a soft hand to his cheek.  

“Hey, why don’t you get some rest. We can talk in the morning,” Jisung offered, and Minho just nodded. He grabbed Jisung tightly in his arms, not even bothering with the blanket, as he pressed his face into his chest.

“I love you. I’m sorry,” he heard him whisper against his chest, so soft and desperate that Jisung felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. 

Jisung pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he threaded their legs together and wrapped him up as close as he could. 

“Don’t be. I love you too.”

Minho slept for the longest time. It was after ten, but Jisung didn’t want to move him, wanting him to get the most and best sleep that he could. He knew he wasn’t getting good rest recently. He could see it in his eyes. But Jisung rubbed his cheek gently as he slept in his arms. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about how soft Minho had been yesterday. The entire time he had known him, he had never seen him so gentle. His heart swelled thinking about it. 

I love you. 

And that was the truth. 

Because love was complicated.

It wasn’t always easy. 

Sometimes, it took a little effort, compassion, and understanding. 

When Minho finally opened his eyes, he looked surprised for a moment, seeing Jisung in his bed. Before he could even greet him good morning, he pressed Jisung to his chest, squeezing him as tightly as he could. 

“Jisung,” he whispered, and Jisung felt his heart clench at how relieved he sounded. 

“Hi,” he said, just holding him tightly in his arms. 

They held each other for a moment before pulling back, and Jisung knew that they had to talk. 

“How is your shoulder?” he asked first, and Minho rubbed at his sleepy eyes. 

“It’s good—I mean, it hurts less today, but…yeah,” Jisung sighed, still pissed that his father was making him play on a hurt shoulder. It didn’t help that Minho had been lying to the doctors either, but he knew that he was probably influenced to do so. 

Minho’s eyes flicked up to his, seeming a little anxious. “How…did you know about my dad saying he would get you kicked out of the university?” 

Jisung ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he could make that fear in his eyes go away. 

“Because I confronted him,” he told him honestly. “I knew you were still hurt when you pitched during the away game last week. I was mad…and I knew he was pushing you. I couldn’t help it.” 

Minho looked so surprised, like he was trying to wrap his head around it. He needed to understand that his dad couldn’t hurt him and that he didn’t need to worry. All of that abuse had him locked up with fear, unable to see past his father’s true colors of being a total coward. 

“But…” he trailed off, seeming nervous. And Jisung knew he would be. 

“Minho, babe,” he whispered softly, knowing he was probably confused, scared, and hurt. “You don’t need to follow his dream. I really, really want you to follow your own.” 

Minho looked conflicted after he said that, and Jisung just hoped he wouldn’t lash out. He braced himself for it, but his response was surprisingly calm. 

“But this…has been my whole life.” 

Jisung took his hand in his, gently caressing his knuckles. 

“But is it what you want?” he asked, and Minho bit his lip hard.

He was waiting for his answer because it would decide where they went from here. Minho blinked a few times, staring into Jisung’s chest. 

Jisung felt his heart finally settle only when Minho shook his head. “I love baseball—but I don’t want to play in the professional league,” he admitted, looking terrified as he said that. 

He had confessed that before during a mental breakdown, but now it was confirmed, and Minho was finally ready to take the help that had been offered. 

“Then you don’t have to,” he assured him, but Minho still looked worried. 

“But how? He’s always been like this—you don’t know what he’ll do to me if…” 

Jisung quickly grabbed his face. 

“Don’t you remember what Felix said?” he asked, and Minho just blinked at him, still terrified. “We won’t let him. Your team, or your coach. I know asking for help is scary, but we won’t let him near you, okay?” 

Minho looked nervous, like sharing that with his team was too much for him. 

“If…it means I get to be with you, and away from him…then, okay,” he whispered. That made Jisung’s heart explode, and he felt like he could burst into tears. He grabbed Minho, grasping him way too tightly in his arms, but he didn’t care. 

“I’m really, really proud of you,” he told him, and Minho pressed his head into his chest again. He didn’t say anything, and Jisung could feel the tears soaking into his shirt. He let him cry silently, knowing the only thing he could do was let him process it and cry until he felt better. 

Because this was a huge change, and Jisung was just happy to have him back in his arms, right where he belonged. 

Minho was shaking. It was palpable how nervous he was. He wasn’t pitching today, even though there were tons of scouts in the stands. 

The last few days were tough, with lots of fighting and tears. Getting Minho to open up about his abuse wasn’t easy. He had been enduring it constantly since he was a child, so expecting him to change overnight was unrealistic. 

He would snap at him, Hyunjin, or Felix when they were just trying to help. He went back and forth on wanting to tell his coach about it. He was afraid that no one would believe him, and if his father heard everything he had accused him of, he was terrified of what he might do. 

He cried when he realized he said something hurtful, apologizing until he was blue in the face. His stress was off the charts, and Felix said at practice that he was so distracted he could barely catch a baseball. 

Jisung had never seen him like this, and it was breaking his heart. 

When they finally told his coach, Minho was trembling. He almost tried to change his mind, but Jisung calmed him down and reminded him that everything was okay and that he would believe him.

He confessed his shoulder was still hurting. He admitted to loving baseball but not wanting to play in the major league. He explained how his dad didn’t care what he thought and told him just how he had been persuading him for years and years. 

Minho sobbed again when the entire team and his coach had his back. He was so shocked that he was silent the entire walk home, trying to wrap his mind around it. Jisung was just so thankful he was strong enough to tell them. He knew how much Minho hated being vulnerable.

Minho kissed him over and over again, telling him how sorry he was for everything, and Jisung wished he could get him to realize that it wasn’t his fault. 

Minho had been sticking by him for the last few days, refusing to leave his side. He had never seen him so clingy before, but Jisung didn’t mind. Minho would wait for him outside of his lectures and would race to find him after class in the courtyard. He would throw himself into his arms under the giant oak tree, seeing Jisung waiting for him. 

He knew he was going through a change, so he didn’t mind that even in public, he was all over him. Jisung would read, and Minho would watch him flip through the pages. Sometimes, he thought he was reading along with him, and other times, he could feel his eyes on his face. 

But now, they were as far away as they had been from each other since they had gotten back together. And Jisung was even more anxious than he thought he would be. He could see his dad in the crowd with a furious look on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he knew he was glaring at Minho, resting in the dugout. 

Minho looked nervous, knowing his dad was in the stands, definitely waiting for the game to be over so he could get his hands on him. Jisung had him cease contact, aware that it would piss him off, but he didn’t need any chance for Minho to revert back to that state of fear, blindly listening to whatever he wanted him to do. 

Jisung didn’t even wait for the game to end before he got up from the stands and made his way into the locker room. 

As soon as Minho saw him, he ran to him and wrapped his arms around his center. He could feel him shaking, and all Jisung could do was hold him tighter. 

“He’s—in the stands,” he whispered, and Jisung just shushed him. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here with me. You’re team and coach, too,” he assured him, and he felt Minho hug him so hard that he was crushing him. 

When Minho pulled back, he nodded, and Jisung could see Felix behind them. Apparently, the rest of the team was still shaking hands on the field, but he was worried, seeing Minho run straight for the locker room where Jisung told him he would meet him after the game. 

They all jumped when the door to the locker room slammed open, and Jisung felt Minho’s body freeze when his dad entered the room. 

His angry eyes and scowling face might have been enough to send Minho into a terrified panic, but not Jisung. He stepped in front of him, and Felix did as well. 

“You’re not allowed in here anymore,” Felix said, glaring right back. 

“Minho—what the absolute hell is the meaning of all of this?” he ignored him, stepping forward and making Minho shake. 

Jisung felt him grab his wrist, but there was nothing coming out of his mouth. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were petrified. 

Jisung pulled him closer as his father continued to make his way forward. 

“Get out of here,” Jisung hissed, and he was pissed when he saw a disgustingly sick and twisted smile on Minho’s father’s face. 

“Oh, I get it now,” he said, his dead, cold eyes trying to make him shiver with fear. But Jisung saw him as nothing more than a pathetic coward who abused his wife and kids. 

“Minho, I told you to break up with this whore. He’s using you. All he wants is money when you make it to the major leagues.” 

Jisung’s eyes blew wide with anger. He was about to lose his mind, but Felix placed a hand on his shoulder, reminding him that he wanted him to get angry. He was looking for that kind of reaction to help twist it in any way he could. He took a deep breath, trying to relax, but he was surprised to feel Minho pushing past him to stand between Jisung and his father.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Minho warned, even though everyone could hear how terrified he sounded. 

“It’s true, Minho. And once you get your head out of your ass, you’ll realize that you’re throwing away your career for some gold digger who doesn’t give a shit about you,” he accused, and Jisung was trying really hard not to lose his mind. 

Minho’s shoulders were heaving, and Jisung knew it was fear and anger coursing through his body. The emotions were likely overwhelming, so Jisung squeezed his hand as tightly as he could, trying to ground him. 

“Jisung knows me better than anyone. More than you ever have. He doesn’t give a shit if I make it to the major leagues or not because that’s not what I want. He wants me to be happy and choose what I want to do. All he’s done is made me realize that you’re a piece of shit for what you’ve done to me and to mom!” he screamed, his voice cracking at the end. 

His dad’s face was getting redder and redder, and the fury was taking over his body. 

“You are going to regret saying that to me,” he threatened, and Jisung could feel Minho twitch with fear. 

Before they could say anything else, they could hear chatter, and the team was entering the locker room. Everyone looked surprised at first, but then multiple glares took over their faces. 

Minho was behind Jisung again as their coach and his father argued, telling him that he wasn’t allowed in the locker rooms or near the baseball field anymore, as required by the university. 

He was furious, to say the least, and Jisung just wished he could get Minho out of the locker room and away from all the pain and fear. He could feel him trembling still as he clutched onto him. Felix also had a soft hand on his shoulder. 

“Minho—I better see you this weekend, or so help me, I will find you,” he threatened before slamming the door shut behind him. 

Jisung could hear the nervous and panicked breaths leaving his chest. He was about to lose it. Jisung helped him sit on the bench, grasping at his chest as he tried to breathe. 

“Don’t listen to him, okay? He’s just pissed and trying to get in your head,” Jisung told him, grabbing his hands. Usually, Minho would push him away, but this time, he just nodded and squeezed his hands so tightly that Jisung thought his bones might break. He winced but let him grasp onto him, knowing he needed him. 

“Hey, if you want to head to the dorms, I’ll call you later,” Felix said to Jisung, placing a gentle hand on his head. They both could see that Minho needed to get out of there. 

“Yeah, okay,” he said, taking Felix’s dorm key since Minho seemed to be a little out of it at the moment.

Jisung was extra careful of their surroundings on their walk back to the dorm. Minho still held his hand, crushing it. He definitely couldn’t feel his fingers, but he didn’t care. As long as Minho felt grounded by his touch, then that’s all that mattered. 

Minho didn’t say anything, clearly caught up in his thoughts. Jisung didn’t want to make it worse, so he bit his tongue, seeing the emotions flicker across Minho’s face. 

When they made it back to the dorm, Jisung was glad he took the key from Felix because just stood there like he was in shock. Jisung had to grab his wrist to pull him inside and slowly guide him to sit down on his bed. He was still shaking like crazy, and honestly, Jisung wasn’t sure what to do. 

He had never seen him like this. 

“Minho,” he said, and his eyes slowly connected with his. He didn’t want to force him to talk, but his silence was worrying him. He wondered just how horrible his father must have been to scare him silent like this. 

“If he…finds me…” he whispered, and Jisung quickly shook his head. 

“He won’t. I swear, Minho. He’s done. He’s not allowed at the school, so we’re safe here.” 

He tried to help the best he could, but Minho’s terror in his eyes was still there. He desperately wished he could take away that pain, but it wasn’t that simple. 

“You don’t understand,” he said so quietly that he almost didn’t hear him. 

“I know. But I do understand how scary this is,” he said, and his heart snapped when a few tears escaped Minho’s eyes. 

“It hurts,” he whispered, closing his eyes. Jisung reached up, pressing a soft hand to his face. He felt bad when Minho flinched away from him, clearly going through the memories right in front of his eyes. 

“It’s okay. I’m right here,” he told him, brushing soothing circles on his skin. The tears fell in silent cries, and Jisung knew there was nothing else to say. He took deep, shaky breaths, grabbing onto Jisung and pulling him into the bed with him. He pressed his face to his chest, and Jisung wondered if that was a way for him to hide from the world. He wrapped him in his arms as they lay down, running his fingers through his hair. He kissed his head over and over, letting him know that he was there and everything would be alright. 

It was quiet for a while, with Minho in his arms, clutching him tightly. He thought he might have even fallen asleep, but when his whispers filled the air, Jisung’s heart started aching all over again. 

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” 

Jisung bit his lip, trying to stay strong. He pressed his face into his hair, kissing one more time.

“I never would have.” 

“I need you, Jisung,” he breathed into his shirt, pressing his face even closer. Jisung swore he felt the touch of his lips. 

“I’m right here. Always.” 

It was quiet for another few minutes before Minho mumbled into his chest again. 

“I’m—so fucking scared,” he admitted, and Jisung crushed him as tightly as he could. 

“I know. But babe, I’m so proud of you for standing up to him. And you’re not alone, I promise.” 

Minho fell asleep shortly after, and Jisung was thankful to hear his soft breathing. He was exhausted from the stress and the pain, so he was happy he was able to close his eyes and get some rest. 

Suddenly, he was crashing himself, because this week had been one of the longest of his life. And he knew it wasn’t over yet. Minho had a long recovery ahead of him, but he would be there by his side through it all. Because he loved him more than anything.

It took another few weeks before Minho’s shoulder had completely healed. Jisung had been to every game and every practice, watching him from the benches. He would mostly read, but sometimes he would look up to see Minho staring at him, but instead of that unreadable glare he used to know, it was a soft, loving look.

After practice had ended, Felix waved to him from across the diamond, seeing Hyunjin there to pick him up. He waved back, knowing that was a sign for him not to come back to the dorms later. He smiled and shook his head, looking back down at his book to put the bookmark on the page he left off. 

When he glanced up, Minho was standing in front of him with a bright smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, and Jisung was thrilled that the happiness had returned to his face. It had been a dark week after the run-in with his dad, with his anxiety and paranoia running wild. They spent most of their time at the dorms, on campus, or at the baseball field, which gave Minho a sense of comfort, knowing his dad wouldn’t be around or he would easily be spotted. 

“Hi babe,” he said as Minho leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You looked good during practice today. How’s your shoulder?” Jisung asked, and Minho shrugged. 

“It’s—better. But…I’m not sure if it’ll be ready by next game,” he told him. 

“Should we go see the doctor again?” he asked, not wanting to sound unconvinced or that he didn’t believe him, but he had seen the x-ray with the doctor’s notes that said he made a full recovery. 

“What? No, I’m fine. I just want to be sure,” he said, and Jisung could tell he was trying not to get defensive. He looked away, rubbing at his shoulder. 

Jisung bit his lip, unsure if he should say anything. But at this rate, he was getting worried it was something else entirely. During practice, Minho was pitching well, and it almost seemed like he had been ready for a while. But for some reason, he didn’t seem to want to play. Jisung didn’t want to push him, but he couldn’t help but worry that something else was going on inside his head. 

“Do you not want to play?” he asked carefully, just coming right out and asking instead of beating around the bush. He saw Minho flinch, and then his confused eyes slid over to him. 

“What are you talking about? Of course, I do,” he said, and if this were the Minho from a couple months ago, he probably would have sworn at him and stomped away. Instead, he sounded nervous, and Jisung was getting so good at reading when he was trying to hide something. 

“If you don’t want to play, that’s completely fine. I just…Minho, if you’re worried or scared about something, you can tell me.” 

Minho blinked multiple times, scrunching his face. Jisung could see his cheeks blush a little, like he was embarrassed Jisung had read right through him and caught him in a lie. He took a deep breath, shaky on the way out past his lips. 

“Okay…I think…I’m afraid to pitch,” he admitted, kneeling down in front of Jisung. “Now that I’m pitching because I want to and not from the pressure, I’m fucking nervous. And I have no idea why.” 

Jisung placed a hand on his cheek, making him look up. He smiled at him, but Minho averted his gaze. 

“I think it’s normal to be nervous. You still love baseball, and you want to pitch well for your team,” he told him, and Minho just sighed. 

“It’s…been so long since I’ve enjoyed playing baseball,” he whispered, and Jisung felt his heart crack. “What if I go out there and I still…feel that hatred toward it? What if he ruined it for me? What if I can’t pitch well, and I let everyone down?” he blurted out all his insecurities. Jisung just shook his head, placing his other hand on his cheek and cradling his face. 

“You won’t let anyone down, Minho,” he assured him, seeing the anxiety in his eyes. “And if you go out there, and you decide that you don’t want to play after this season, then you don’t have to. Of course, I want you to find your love for it again, we all do, but if it’s too much, then it’s okay to let it go. Whatever you choose, we will all be here for you, okay?” 

Minho’s eyes looked watery, but before Jisung could swipe a finger under them, Minho leaned forward and captured his lips. He was surprised, knowing that half the team was still on the field, cleaning up, but Minho didn’t seem to care. And Jisung didn’t either. 

He wrapped his arms around him and kissed him deeply, telling him that everything would be okay. Jisung felt Minho’s fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand. 

“You’ll come to the game, right?” he asked, and Jisung chuckled a little. 

“You know I always do. You can’t keep me away even if you tried,” he joked. Minho laughed, and Jisung couldn’t contain the giant smile from breaking out across his lips. 

“I need you there,” he admitted, and Jisung felt his heart swell, seeing that loving gaze connect with his. 

“And I will be,” he assured him. 

Minho smiled before standing up, grabbing his hands, and pulling him with him. He kissed him one last time before helping Jisung grab his things, offering to carry his bag. When he picked it up, it almost hit the ground because of how heavy it was. 

“Holy shit, what do you have in here?” he asked, and Jisung just shrugged. 

“Books.” 

“How many, seven thousand?” he complained as he threw it over his good shoulder. Jisung chuckled, seeing him struggle a little bit. 

“I can carry it. And I told you, I’ve been reading like crazy lately. Plus, you keep buying them for me.” 

He had been reading all the books that Minho kept buying for him, even though he told him he didn’t have to. But honestly, reading books that Minho thought Jisung would love made him want to read constantly, so he couldn’t help but bring them with him everywhere he went. 

“Oh, by the way. I annotated one that I picked up the other day, and you have to read it. The romance was sweet, and I think you’d like it,” Minho said, and Jisung’s heart swirled with excitement. He had no idea where Minho had been getting the time to read and annotate all these books, but he swore he was reading even more than Jisung was. “I’ve also been thinking we should visit that bookstore again. Maybe we can go on a date this weekend.”

His smile was wide as he glanced over at him, making his insides fill with happiness. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing Minho with a genuine smile on his face. 

Jisung skipped up next to him, carrying his sports duffel, his bookbag, and Jisung’s heavy bag filled with at least ten books. Of course, if he tried to tell him he could carry it, he wouldn’t let him, so he just pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“I love you,” Jisung said, and every time he said it, Minho’s cheeks always held a light pink blush. 

“I love you more,” he smiled at him, and that had Jisung’s heart soaring for the sky. The feeling was the same as when he immersed himself in his novels. He never thought he would find a love that could touch his heart so sweetly. 

But love was a journey, and through those pages was heartbreak, lessons, and learning. There was struggle and pain but also love and compassion. He always thought it was too good to be true, that a love like that only existed in those made-up worlds. But he found his own crazy love, knowing that it could be complicated but even more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.