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Jisung stomps through the front door to his and Minho’s apartment. He’s sweaty all over, clothes sticking to his skin and he stinks.
„Fucking summer“, he mumbles as he yanks off his converse and tosses his bag into the nearest corner and immediately makes his way directly to the bathroom. His face is red when he sees his reflection in the mirror over the sink and Jisung only hopes it’s not a sunburn. The blond boy washes his hands and splashes some cold water in his heated skin.
Making his way to the kitchen to get a much needed glass of water, he finds his boyfriend, busy washing the dishes.
“Hi darling”. Minho greets him with a warm smile. He wears some old thinned t-shirt he managed to get wet with soap water and his hands are hidden by his hideous yellow rubber gloves. Jisung loves him. He slumps against the older’s back and mumbles a greeting in his shoulder.
“You’re home early today? Something happened”?
“Boss let everyone go earlier because of the heat”, Jisung explains, nudging himself off Minho’s back to grab some cold water from the fridge.
“She’s a true gift to society”.
“Oh absolutely”, Jisung agrees. “Otherwise I would’ve melted into a puddle today”.
Minho fakes a scandalized face and Jisung pecks him on the cheek before chugging down a good half of the bottle in his hand. With an exasperated groan, he leans against the wall.
“Do you know what you want for dinner”? Minho asks as he wipes the stove and kitchen counter tops clean. Jisung shakes his head.
“It’s too hot to think about food”.
“Fair”, Minho agrees. “Have a shower first then”?
“Is that your way to tell me I stink”?
“Yes”, Minho deadpans and Jisung expected nothing less. Still, he jabs his boyfriend’s side where he knows the older is the most ticklish. Minho yelps but before he gets the chance to retort anything, the younger boy beelines to the balcony where he grabs his shower towel and makes his way to the bathroom.
Jisung peels himself out of his shorts and t-shirt, leaving his binder clinging to his rib cage. He curses the loved piece of clothing as he struggles to get it over his broad shoulders. Not for the first time he considers investing in a zipper binder. He ends up tossing all his clothes in the laundry basket including his binder because there’s no way he can wear it again tomorrow after the 35°C of today. He technically has another binder but it’s his old one which is ways too small. Jisung is far away from the small framed teenager he was since he started his transition. And the old binder simply crushes his ribs nowadays. Besides it’s too hot for any additional clothing.
Jisung quickly steps into the shower, turning the water as cold as he can tolerate and finally relaxes.
Feeling like himself again, the towel wrapped loosely around his hips, he puts on a light moisturizer and some hair oil in a futile attempt to safe his bleached strands. For a moment he considers just throwing on a large t-shirt but as soon as he steps out of the bathroom, only dressed in some boxers, he cringes. He crosses his arms over his chest to keep it from moving and heads towards his bedroom. Minho lies on the tiny sofa, limbs sprawled out as Jisung crosses the room.
“Baby”? Jisung asks, voice coming out smaller and more quiet than expected. “Can you please run the washing machine and throw my binder in there”?
Minho drags himself up with a “sure”. He gives Jisung a glance and the younger knows that his boyfriend can read him like an open book.
“Do you want my help with anything”? Minho asks carefully.
Jisung wants to say no. Wants to hide his body and isolate himself until he gets rid of the lump in his throat.
Instead he nods. Because Jisung knows Minho will hold him up when he feels like drowning.
“Okay, then I’ll be quick”. Minho kisses his forehead and vanished into the bathroom.
Jisung slumps down on his bed, eyes fixated on the ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stickers. Lying on his back and let gravity do the work always makes him feel somewhat better.
Minho holds onto his promise. He soon appears in Jisung’s room and sits down on his bed next to him. His boyfriend takes his hand and caresses it gently with his thumb.
“What do you want me to do”?
Jisung sighs. “Can you help me with the tape? Should be in the drawer”.
Minho gets up wordlessly. Tkes out the roll of beige tape along with the protective nipple pads and grabs scissors from Jisung’s desk. He makes quick work to cut up the needed pieces and rounds the edges to better prevent peeling.
“Hey dear”, he sits back down as Jisung glances down at him. “Can you stand up”?
Jisung nods again, reaches out his hands and lets himself get pulled up.
With skilled fingers Minho covers Jisung’s nipples with the protective stickers. He attaches the first strip of tape and gently pulls the skin to the side to secure it.
“Do I look like a girl”? The lump threatens to reappear in Jisung’s throat and he tries to identify some orange stain on Minho’s t-shirt to distract himself.
“What? No”? Minho stops in his tracks and his visible confusion quickly turns into a frown.
“Where’s that coming from so suddenly? Do I have to fight someone”?
“You can’t really fight a customer”.
“I can, I’m not employed there”.
Jisung snorts. “You know, she just walked in and referred to me as young lady”.
“What the hell”. Minho rolled his eyes as he used a second piece of tape to flatten out Jisung’s chest. “Some people are dense as fuck”.
“I mean, I know my face is more round and I’m small but…”. He trails off and looks to the ground.
“Jisungie, I know how important passing is to you, but please try not letting the opinion of some rando get to your head. If someone really calls you a woman they’re either incredibly stupid or an ignorant bigot, meaning their opinions don't matter anything at all. Okay”?
Minho has moved to Jisung’s other side and is securing his chest with the remaining three pieces of tape.
“I look like a boy”? Jisung knows he does. Almost three years on testosterone helped him a lot with changing his physique. He regularly hit the gym and managed to built an impressive amount of muscles. Nowadays his shoulders are broad and his arms big and he is massively proud of that. Jisung knows he looks like a boy but sometimes he needs the reassurance.
“Yes you do. Very manly. My very manly man”. Minho gives him a crooked smile as he flattens out the last piece of tape on Jisung’s chest. The blond younger rolls his eyes at him but fails to hide the smile warming up his face. His boyfriend is teasing but Jisung knows he’s sincere. Still, Jisung has to tell him he’s cheezy.
“I mean it”, Minho gives his chest a few pats. “You’re really handsome and I’m really gay for you”.
Jisung chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous”.
But Minho isn’t finished yet. “You know what’s the best thing though”?
“That you’re my boyfriend. The best boyfriend in the whole world”.
Jisung yanks Minho closer by his t-shirt, wraps his arms tightly around him and buries his face in the older’s shoulder. Jisung loves him. Loves him so fucking much.
Minho peppers his head with tiny kisses and rubs his hands soothingly over his back.
“Is the taping okay like this”?
Jisung only reluctantly detaches himself from Minho. A look in the mirror on his closet shows him Minho’s thoughtful work and happiness rushes over him like warm water. Tape never makes his chest completely flat but it feel more free than his binder and gives him the opportunity to walk around shirtless. Jisung runs his hands over his chest and sides. He can’t resist to flex his upper body a bit, showing off his hard work. His taped chest blends in almost perfectly with the muscles and his face lights up with a grin. Jisung feels good about himself like this, likes what he sees in the mirror.
“Yep, looks good, thanks baby”. He blows a kiss to Minho.
You look better”.
“You flirt”.
“It’s not flirting when I’m stating the truth”.
And Jisung believes him.