Archive of Our Own

Table for One

Usually, when people are asked about Minho they would say: “Oh that guy? He’s cool, collected, quite composed for a uni student”, sometimes Minho would agree, and sometimes he begs to differ.

Today was a day where he begged to differ.

Things were not going so peachy for him. At first he was in between the limbo of dreamland and reality, with the sun encompassing him in its warm embrace and streaks of light trying to burn off the first layer of his eye. Then he woke up and realized that the only thing burning off his eye at that very moment were the bright digits of 8 and 48 staring back at him from his phone. He jumped up to see that his roommate had already left while he rushed to get ready, muttering curses under his breath every time an inanimate object refused to cooperate with him.

He grabbed his bag, grabbed his keys, dug his hand into the jug filled with small bars of chocolate sitting next to the key bowl before he promptly sprinted out of the door, almost slipping on the way to campus. By the way, did you know that the phenomenon where it rains during the day is called a sunshower?

In the most comical, cartoony way possible the clouds decided that it needed to let out all of its inner fluids right at that moment and drizzle onto the unsuspecting Minho who coincidentally, did not bring an umbrella in his rush. He muttered another curse while breaking into a run again towards the academy center and went in before the rain could completely seep into his skin from head to toe, he panted while jogging towards one of the lecture halls and opened the door to go in, thankfully only being five minutes late.

The door squeaked, dozens of pairs of eyes looked at him including the professors’.

“Mr. Kim I am very sorry for being late,” Minho bowed deeply towards the man. His floppy, messy and now damp brown hair poked him in the eyes while doing so.

Mr. Kim only smiled slightly and pardoned Minho before the latter stomped his way towards the seats, leaving wet sneaker trails behind him and sat down beside a person with long blonde hair and striking features while the professor continued his teachings.

Hyunjin side-eyed Minho from his laptop and mumbled, “Dude, you look like a tired dad who’s been through divorce. Except that I have no knowledge of you being married to someone like, ever.”

Minho could only half-heartedly glare at his friend with exhausted eyes while getting his laptop out, a retort lying on his tongue he couldn’t get out from his sleep dehydrated throat. He focused his attention towards the professor and concluded that today was going to be a very, very long day.

—

It was an understatement as things sort of went downhill from there.

A reminder that midterms were coming, assignments and readings being dished out like hot cakes. He managed to sink his foot into a puddle of someone’s spilled coffee while making his way to his seminar, which elicited a loud groan from him in the middle of a student-filled hallway. He also dropped his papers in said hallway. Minho’s eyelids felt like they were ready to close at any moment since he didn’t get his morning coffee. He had bags under his eyes. His hair was a mess, he felt like a mess and he was practically a mess. He was getting more and more annoyed and growing more and more insane by the minute from every single tiny inconvenience that he was so close to combusting from inside out.

Throughout all of this he was also hungry, and a tired and hungry person was not a person to be messed with.

He finished his last lecture for the day and walked with unnecessary pressure against the ground, creating thump sounds on the stone. Today has been a shitty day, therefore he needed to calm down by ignoring the nagging voice in his brain that was telling him to do anything related to his higher level of education or assignments for at least an hour to resolve his rumbling stomach. He needed a fucking loaded chicken sandwich, because he wanted a fucking loaded chicken sandwich.

So the first place he thought of was the diner he frequents often, enough times to call it his comfort diner. He couldn’t help but feel his spirits lift a little bit thinking about the food and atmosphere there, warm and inviting. It stopped drizzling and the sky was clear and blue, puddles reflected light from the sun causing them to sparkle. The weather was nice but of course, things couldn't go his way for too long.

As soon as he went into the diner with a little jingle of a bell, both the delicious aroma and noise enveloped him. Chattering, glasses clinking, silverware scraping, children crying in their little baby chairs, the diner looked extremely full since it was lunch time. Minho could feel the muscle under his left eye twitch.

He was so close to throwing hands at the universe for not letting him have something this mundane, yes he was being irrational but at this point he was running on 2 hours of sleep with no food in his system. The metaphorical lines between frustration and cannibalism were starting to blur in his brain. Minho was determined to not let his shitty day get even shittier, so if people couldn't see it, they could feel it: the aura of a giant fire encasing Minho as he marched around the diner.

He swiped his vision from left to right, looking around for any trace of hope. Full families and couples and friend groups took almost every spot in the diner, he repeated the word “please” multiple times in his brain like a mantra until finally, in the rather back part of the diner his eyes locked like a sniper scope onto an empty seat of a table for two, the other occupied by another person clad in a hoodie and denim jacket, red headphones hung around his neck.

Before Minho could change his mind his legs had already started to take him towards that very table, he smiled the best smile he could muster in that moment and took a deep breath before reaching the table. He tried very hard to sound as cheerful and as friendly as possible instead of a person who is on the edge of going bonkers.

“Hi! This day has been god fucking awful and if I don’t resolve my hunger within 20 minutes I might actually just start biting someone's arm off so if it’s alright could I please share a table with you.”

The minute the rushed words started tumbling out of Minho, the young man occupying the other space looked up with stuffed cheeks and wide eyes frozen into an expression of surprise, to Minho’s otherwise crazed smile. The stranger had navy blue hair, dyed and hanging right above his eyebrows. Wide, dark chocolate brown eyes that were soft yet sharp around the edges looked into Minho’s own ones. The back of Minho’s head thought he looked like a squirrel and a cute one at that with those round cheeks of his but he pushed the unnecessary thought to the side. He was desperate and looked like a madman, silently pleading that his impulsive action would at least provide some use despite his growing embarrassment.

They stared at each other, the noise and the world around them seemed to stop for just a single, precious moment. Then the stranger slowly chewed at the food in his cheeks and swallowed it, Adam's apple bobbing. The back of Minho’s brain awakened again to register that the stranger’s Adam’s apple looked like the shape of a heart, his eyes flicking down to follow the movement before he caught himself and looked back into the stranger’s eyes.

“Uhm,” the guy unfroze and opened his mouth. He brushed his nose with his index finger while averting Minho’s gaze, “Yeah, sure, go ahead.”

A sigh of relief escaped Minho and his smile turned into something slightly more genuine with his taut shoulders relaxed. “Thank you so much, seriously,” he said a little tiredly while plopping himself into the chair, wasting no time to shoot his hand up to order and pay.

It arrived in no time after a few beats of Minho’s leg bouncing and the stranger’s chewing, once his food arrived he immediately dug in with unnecessary vigor. Biting at the tender chicken patty with tons of cabbage cut into strips and sauces wedged in between two slices of toasted bread. And not the kind of bread that sticks to your teeth and tastes like a factory, it's the kind of bread kneaded with loving hands.

Slowly but surely with every bite, he felt his fire starting to come down and his brows less furrowed. His big bites turned into smaller ones as he savored the sandwich, the mess of a head he had since morning started to clear a little, finally with food in his body. He felt more rational, calm. Calm enough to realize that oh, I just invaded someone’s personal space by asking them very desperately to share a table with me.

At that moment Minho decided to finally look up from the sandwich he was devouring to find the stranger already staring at him with his spoon in the air, the latter blinked and immediately avoided eye contact with a slight tinge of pink on his face, sticking his utensil back into his unfinished rice.

It was extremely awkward, both men were now conscious of every joint in their body just so they wouldn't do something extremely embarrassing and invasive like, accidentally knocking feet with each other under the table. If that ever happened Minho was going to order another sandwich and have it be the cause of his death.

Their little corner had uncomfortable silence hanging in the air as the noise of the diner built around them like a stuffy box.

Since the stranger was there first, he finished his food before Minho. He grabbed his own backpack, a brown notebook clutched in his left hand, trying to wipe his mouth with his right all the while trying to stand up at the same time in a haste. Minho realized the stranger was going to leave and he really couldn't have that cause again, he felt bad for barging into someone's perfectly peaceful moment earlier and the tiny guilt will eat Minho alive if he doesn't do something about it.

So just as the stranger was about to avoid the sharp corner of the table to walk out, Minho's mouth made the decision for him.

"Wait!" he blurted out, leaning forward with his left hand reaching out a little.

The cute squirrel looking blue haired guy's head snapped to face him again, this time his eyes blinked rapidly in confusion.

Minho cleared his throat, feeling a little sheepish for his bluntness.

“I’m uh, so sorry for just. The weirdest first impression ever,” his left hand that was suspended earlier came up to rub at his neck. “If it’s possible I wanna make it up to you and… I don’t know, I’m a bit broke at the moment but I could buy you a coffee?” His eyes shook but he could still see the stranger in the area of his vision without making direct eye contact, gosh why did he have to be so awkward.

A blink, then a light smile from the stranger. He shook his head a little and spoke with his smooth yet crystal clear voice, “Oh no it’s okay, really, I hope you feel a little better after, uh. Gobbling up that sandwich.” His finger came up a little to point at the tiny morsel of said sandwich in Minho’s hand.

A part of him wanted to have mercy on his wallet, yet another part of him knew that he will inevitably think about this encounter forever if he doesn’t stop it by doing something. The cogs in Minho’s were turning and while doing so he unintentionally left the stranger squirming a little under his blank gaze. Things were getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"I-"

“Give me your phone.”

“Huh?”

Minho was standing up now, he noticed that he and the stranger were almost the same height, he himself was a tiny bit taller. What’s left of his sandwich was back on the plate, he wiped the crumbs off of his hand onto his jeans and extended it towards the guy.

“I’ll give you my number for the coffee, I still feel bad”

“No it’s fine really-”

“I insist!”

So without anything else he could’ve done thanks to Minho’s stubbornness the latter was now typing his number into the stranger’s phone, saving the contact under ‘Lee Minho’ and putting a cat emoji at the end of it, true to his fashion.

It was until he gave the phone back that he realized something, and gave himself a mental facepalm to his head.

“By the way, I didn’t catch your name…?” Minho asked hesitantly.

The person who was questioned stopped staring at the contact name on his phone and looked up at Minho.

“Oh it's… Jisung. Han Jisung.” He said a little breathlessly.

“Han Jisung.” Minho lets the name roll across his tongue, letting it become a little less foreign, letting the name be painted onto the face that was in front of him.

They stare at each other again, the noise of the diner was still there yet not there at the same time, it turned into a little buzz in both of their brains, like a little bubble had formed around them.

Jisung was the one who popped it.

“Uhm. Bye.”

The next thing Minho knew, the cute squirrel looking blue haired guy he shared a table with called Han Jisung bolted out of the door at the speed of lightning, a jingle of a bell signifying his exit. The spell that had surrounded them broke and went back to the chattering, the glasses clinking, the silverware scraping and the children crying in their little baby chairs.

Minho continued to stare at the door, mood infinitely better and a piece of a chicken sandwich left forgotten.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

It Takes Two to Convo

After multiple library visits, seven mental breakdowns and infinite amounts of caffeine taken through a variety of forms such as murky black liquid, amber brown water and even redbull with high sugar levels as a bonus, Minho survived midterms. To celebrate this, he dragged Hyunjin and a couple of his other friends to the public courtyard to lounge in the grass and mentally decompose in the most graceful way possible.

“Urine used to be a detergent because of its high ammonia content, I honestly would rather have a dirty shirt than have one that could possibly stink of human excretion.”

Hyunjin opened one eye from his position of leaning against a tree to shoot a judgemental look towards Minho who was laying down on the grass like a dead man with his hands folded over his chest, staring up at the clouds.

“Hyung, why are you like this?”

Minho stayed silent, pretending to think about it.

“My upbringing mostly,” he said, while squinting at a cloud that looked like an octopus.

Hyunjin proceeded to return to closing his eyes and sighing like an old man while rubbing the temples of his head, two fingers each.

“If you bring up another fact about fucking piss I might just actually cut ties with you and move to another habitat fit for humans where I won’t be surrounded by idiots.”

“Facts about pee?” Changbin, — Minho’s music major friend who had the worst case of an intimidating resting bitch face but had a heart as soft as pudding— looked up from the laptop opened on his lap to inquire. “I’m intrigued.”

A rustle of a page. “Piss was also used as an antiseptic,” Seungmin —Minho's arch nemesis, frenemy, occasional best friend, prey— provided, not looking up from the book he was reading. “So technically the yellowish color of the present antiseptic we use today isn’t too far-fetched from ancient times.”

Hyunjin groaned very loudly while digging his face into his hands. “I am, in fact, surrounded by idiots.”

The three continued their banter while Minho continued to stare at the fluffy white clouds in the air, tuning them out. The cloud he was looking at right now looked like a blob, but if he tilted his head a little to the left the cloud looked like a cat, and if he tilted his head a little to the right the cloud would look like a squirrel holding a deformed nut in its claws.

A squirrel. The face with round cheeks and blue hair flashed through his mind as the realization hit him, the deafening smack of his facepalm caught the attention of his friends along with his scrunched up face.

“Bro you look constipated, are you okay?” Changbin asked.

“No, I’m not okay,” Minho dragged his hand down his cheeks. “I am a colossal idiot and a pea brain.”

“Well you’re not wrong-”

“Hyunjin I will stick you in a human sized microwave if you don’t shut up.” Hyunjin shuts up.

“Alright,” Seungmin closed his book and fixed Minho with a blank stare, “What did you do this time?”

Minho sat up slowly and took out his phone from his pocket to check for any incoming messages.

Nothing, just his luck.

Minho pocketed his phone and ran a hand through his hair, wincing a little. “I may or may not have unintentionally forced someone into sharing a table with me at the diner across campus and then promised I would treat them to coffee since I felt bad but then I forgot to tell them to send me a message so I can save their contact and forgot about the whole ordeal altogether due to my brain autopiloting for exam preparation.”

Minho raised his head to three different expressions.

Changbin had a look of contemplation, Hyunjin was not surprised in the slightest and Seungmin had let out a low whistle.

“Wow, hyung, you are hopeless.”

“It was an urgent situation,” Minho emphasized. “It was either share a table or I cook up Hyunjin’s ribs.”

“Cook up my WHA–”

“Anyway,” Minho cuts in, ignoring Hyunjin’s spluttered protests. “There’s no use, it’s pointless now.” Minho put his head in his hands. “I need to move on from this don’t I?”

“You sound like you’re talking about a break-up.” Hyunjin shrieked when Minho threatened a sick uppercut at the blonde and tried to pinch his toes.

Changbin’s stoicism finally changed as he narrowed his eyes and mumbled through the cries for help. “Why have I heard this before?”

Minho stopped trying to apply the theory of violence on Hyunjin and looked at Changbin with a raised eyebrow, a questioning noise came out of his throat.

Changbin closed his laptop and pulled his legs into a cross-legged position. “Hyung, what did the stranger look like?”

Minho rolled his eyes up a bit, pretending to remember the details despite knowing them very clearly. “Doe-ish brown eyes, blue hair, round cheeks,” his eyes came back down. "He kind of looked like a squirrel.”

Realization flickered across Changbin’s face, and his expression morphed into something like amusement.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, invested.

Changbin was clearly trying to push down his laughter, lip corners twitching. “Was that particular stranger’s name Han Jisung?”

Minho furrowed his eyebrows, “yeah, how did you know?”

Changbin straight up cackled, which left the other three in confusion.

“Hey what– Why are you laughing?” Minho was extremely confused now.

Changbin stifled his laugh to a snort, before waving his hand vaguely with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s nothing. He’s my roommate though, I can tell him to text you.”

“Since when did you have a roommate?” Hyunjin squinted at Changbin.

“Uh,” –Changbin tilted his head up in thought– “Since two months ago? He used to live somewhere further from campus and he registered for the dorms due to transportation issues. I lived alone so,” he shrugged “I took him in, the RA was fine with it.”

Collective oh’s were said, this time it was Seungmin who had a look of contemplation.

“I think we’re missing something here,” Seungmin said very wisely.

On the other hand Minho was relieved to hear that, he’s still skeptical of Changbin's cryptic ominousness but if it meant that he’ll be able to treat Jisung to coffee and squash the little annoying bug of guilt crawling in his brain, he’s all set.

For now, he continued to throw threats at Hyunjin while the latter complains, bicker with Seungmin and then proceeded to gang up on teasing Changbin with the both of them until the sun started to set and paint the sky with orange and pink hues, the fluffy cloud blobs he was looking at earlier turned into streaks across its expanse.

—

Sure enough, Minho didn’t have to wait long.

A ding sounded from his phone through the speakers that were blasting music a second before. He paused the music and took the phone in his sweaty hands to see that an unknown number had sent him a message.

Unknown Number (8:42 P.M.)
hi Minho-ssi!
so about that coffee…

Minho’s eyes widened a fraction, then he proceeded to save the contact, then mull over what the fuck he should respond with while his finger hovered over the keyboard.

You (8:44 P.M.)

Oh, hi.

Oh, hi. A dry, mocking voice in his brain repeated the words back at him. How adequate of you Lee Minho, how brilliant of you, how un-awkward of you. Good job! Well done! That was one of the worst ways to start a conversation! He wrinkled his nose at his own social abilities while his finger tapped across the keyboard to somehow salvage his great beginnings.

You (8:46 P.M.)

Yeah sorry for the long wait

Are you free this Saturday? 2pm?

Han Jisung (8:47 P.M.)
yep! which coffee shop?

You (8:47 P.M.)

How about the one on campus?

Han Jisung (8:48 P.M.)
fine by me!
see you there

Minho let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He stared at the screen that displayed their messages for a few more seconds before putting the phone back down and swiped across it to play music again, bass booming and bouncing off of the studio walls as he danced to it with renewed vigor.

—

Tap, tap, tap. Minho tapped on the side of his thigh from the inside of his pocket, standing outside of the cafe. His left hand gripping onto his bag strap like it was a lifeline. It was the only outlet of nervousness he allowed himself to have with the raging storm of emotions behind his blank expression and his body.

Saturday had come exponentially quick, quicker than Minho wanted it to. And so he’s here, outside of the coffee shop checking his watch every five seconds and checking the time on his phone for every six seconds just in case his watch suddenly decides that it wants to make his life harder and die while he is having a crisis. The crisis of whether or not he has been stood up because it was three minutes past two and despite it only being a few minutes the paranoid voice in his brain is getting louder and louder and was about to turn into a broken record by the amount of times it had said ‘he's not gonna to show up’.

He inhaled a breath into his lungs while closing his eyes, hoping to fill them up with tranquility instead of anxiety and maintain his composure. He's never been this nervous before, especially for someone. As he exhaled he heard panting and footsteps approaching him from his right.

Minho opened his eyes to see a disheveled Han Jisung, his hands on his knees and eyes looking anywhere except for Minho while taking deep breaths. At a particular deep breath he started breathing out words a mile per second like an exhaust pipe.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! I had to talk with my professor about something—”

Minho looked at Jisung with his mouth slightly parted.

“—and then he suddenly launched into a rant about how the industry doesn’t have good music anymore and how awful songs can easily get recognition these days—”

He was wearing loose fitted jeans and a black supreme T-shirt printed with yellow flowers, the same red headphones were around his neck Minho saw him wearing at the diner. His blue hair sprung from the crown of his head into messy strands.

“—I had to stand there with a smile on my face and not deck him in his face when I was literally just trying to ask him regarding a part of his lesson on modular synthesis today—”

Minho was extremely relieved with the fact that the other had arrived, to the point he's a little too dumbstruck to process at the speed Jisung is talking with right now.

"—I swear I tried to get out of it as fast as I could but it seemed like he wouldn't stop like I know I talk a lot sometimes but I didn't know someone could possibly have that much to say about Drake music— am I rambling? Oh my god I'm rambling. I am so sorr—"

Minho snapped out of his daze.

"Jisung-ssi." The name was still a little foreign when he said it outloud.

The mentioned person stopped running his mouth and immediately snapped his head up to finally meet Minho's eyes. There was a funny look on his face.

Minho chuckled a little at the mouth that was pressed into a taut line, probably done to shut himself up. "It's okay, genuinely, it's only been a few minutes. And I hope you didn't forget that humans need to breathe." Minho joked.

Jisung, with his sheepish smile that turned his eyes into half moons, scratched the back of his neck and gave a few embarrassed laughs, it was cute.

Minho smiled, then he raised the hand that was in his pocket to gesture towards the coffee shop, tilting his head a little as well. “Coffee?”

The sheepish edge was gone as Jisung let his hand fall back to his side, grinning right back at him.

“Yeah, coffee.”

Minho paid for Jisung’s iced americano and his own fruit juice —he already had coffee earlier in the morning, he didn’t want to be vibrating and lose his brain-to-mouth filter from talking too fast— before both of them sat down at one of the tables near the windows. The campus cafe wasn’t too busy today, just a few people here and there, some with laptops, some scrolling on their phones, some discussing group projects over pastries, and then there’s Minho and Jisung.

Minho stirred his juice to hear the little clinks from the ice against the glass, Jisung was sipping on his coffee tentatively, both of them kept their eyes down on the table. They weren’t that awkward anymore, they didn’t feel the need to be conscious of every body movement anymore, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Minho wanted to sucker punch the awkwardness in the air, therefore he gathered his courage from the sting of tart orange juice and did just that.

“So…" Minho tried hesitantly, dragging out the last syllable. Jisung’s eyes immediately dart up to look at him when Minho started speaking. Minho nodded his head towards the drink in Jisung’s hands, "is it… up to standards?"

Jisung gave a small smile. "Yeah, well, it's as good as a coffee can be."

“Ah, I see.”

“Mhm.”

Silence.

Tap, tap, tap. “How were midterms?”

At this, Jisung rolled his eyes while exhaling a dramatic breath.

“Hell, treacherous, awful, tiring, awful— did I say that already? Yeah no, I didn’t shower for three days straight. And my room is a mess.” Jisung winced.

Minho’s lips twitched up a little at the theatrical-ness, it reminded him a little bit of Hyunjin. He sipped on his orange juice. “That’s rough.”

Jisung threw his hands up in the air and said "I know!" Before bringing them back down again, "I smelled like salted fish apparently, according to my roommate. I bet he was overexaggerating though."

Minho giggled a little, the sound of chiming bells. "Oh yeah, Changbin right?"

Jisung hummed. "How did you know?"

"He's my lab experiment” Minho joked, hoping that it’ll knock the awkwardness out for good. ”I asked him about you and he suddenly burst out laughing, I was concerned if he lost a nerve."

At this, Minho once again saw the bloom of dusted pink spreading across Jisung's cheeks and his ears and his neck while his jaw hung slightly open at Minho. Minho's smile faded and instead was replaced with a frown of confusion.

"Did I say something wrong…?"

Jisung spluttered a little, waving his palms frantically. "N-no! You didn't! It's just…" He slightly groaned while hiding his face in his hands, voice coming out a little muffled. "He probably laughed because remember when we um, first met at the diner?"

Minho swallowed. "Yep." He could never have forgotten it even if he tried.

Jisung removed one of his hands from his face to stir at his drink and prod at the ice cubes. “Basically I ranted about the entire experience to him and he's not letting me live it down and also.. well…” He trailed off into some incoherent words Minho didn't catch as his eyes flickered from his drink, then to Minho, then back to his drink. "I’m gonna kill him." Jisung grumbled coherently a few seconds later.

“Oh.” Minho blinked and didn’t question. “Well, I know he’s deathly allergic to any type of fur, it makes him sneeze really hard so you can start there.”

Jisung beamed, “Oh my god that’s perfect.”

“Yeah, his sneezes are like, super high pitched and his nose gets all red and stuff, it’s quite a funny sight.”

Jisung smirked, "Like the red nosed reindeer?"

Minho nodded, "Just like a red nosed reindeer."

Jisung let out a laugh at that, probably imagining it. His cheeks jutted out and pushed the skin underneath his eyes which turned them into crescents, his mouth was wide and in the shape of a heart. And that made something in Minho’s stomach grow and worm itself throughout his entire body. Jisung’s laughter was infectious, and he felt infected as he smiled along with him.

Things have eased up a lot after that, the awkwardness that was initially there had dissolved into particles and joined the dust orbiting the hanging light bulbs in the cafe. They talked about anything and everything they could fit in an hour. They first learned that Minho was older than Jisung by two years. Then Minho learned that Jisung made music, Jisung learned that Minho was in the dance team while grappling through his studies. Minho learned that Jisung’s favorite color was red but it changes every fortnight, Jisung learned that Minho could move the tendons in his knuckles.

Minho had the feeling that he had just met a valuable person who will make an impact the size of a dent onto his little world.

—

Seo Changbin (7:34 P.M.)
I’m assuming it went well?

You (7:36 P.M.)

yep

Jisung said he’s gonna kill you.

and being the wonderful person i am, i told him about your fur allergy

Seo Changbin (7:36 P.M.)
…
why would you share that information with him WHEN HE IS THREATENING
MY LIFE!?!?!?!?!

You (7:37 P.M.)

sleep with one eye open tonight my precious lab rat

you’re on your own

Seo Changbin (7:37 P.M.)
LEE MINHO

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

5 + Three = 8

“Okay, I’ll get it this time.” Jisung narrowed his eyes while pointing a chocolate covered finger at Minho, trying to give a stern look that was sort of ruined by his puffy cheeks stuffed with the remains of a chocolate donut. “Is it human?”

It’s been a few weeks since Minho bought Jisung coffee at the cafe. They started texting more often now that they actually have each other's numbers, messages in blue and white bubbles talking about their favorite genres of music, horror movies and similar tastes in food.

They were both so different yet very similar that after they jumped over the first hurdle, what started as two strangers sharing a mahogany table bloomed into a beautiful friendship. The words they shared with each other had the things they wanted to share about themselves, bouncing comfortably between them like a tennis ball in a tennis court. It was simple, easy even.

It was another Saturday and they both decided to meet up at the same cafe to get some studying done, which sort of devolved into a game of twenty questions.

"No."

"Is it an animal?"

"Yes."

Jisung pretended to think really hard for the next question.

"Is it furry- oh is it a dog? It has to be a dog."

Minho tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible, it was hard with how competitive Jisung was, somehow endearing to see the childish determination in his mature eyes.

"Is that your final answer?" Minho cocked an eyebrow.

"Hold on so is it furry?"

"That's another question down."

"Cheetah, fluffy cows, rabbits."

"You can't just name every single furry animal on the planet–"

"Squirrel ferrets raccoons"

"Han Jisung–"

"Fox! Otters! Kangaroos!” Minho shook his head, Jisung had swallowed the donut and slapped the heel of his hand down in faux frustration. “Roosters! Porcupines! Ostriches! Chinchill–"

“Oh!” Minho cuts in. ”Well you got it, it was an ostrich.”

Jisung could only give an incredulous look at Minho. “...Hyung I was literally listing out random animals, ostriches aren’t even furry, they have feathers.”

“Well they look furry to me,” Minho smirked while shrugging, “so as long as I think it is, then it is.”

Jisung snorted. “How are you a full-grown, twenty two year old man but have the mentality of an average middle schooler.”

“I was born this way! Don’t discriminate, squirrel cheeks.”

“Once again, I told you to stop calling me that!”

Bickering with Jisung was so easy, so comfortable, as if they had known each other for years. Minho enjoyed it, ice hasn’t broken with another person he’s met this effortlessly before, it was refreshing in a way. Like the taste of an ice cold strawberry smoothie on a scorching hot day, like the taste of water that quenches one's thirst in the middle of the night.

While Jisung was trying to protest again at Minho’s peculiar nickname choices, the latter’s phone vibrated on the table, someone’s calling him. Minho glanced at his screen to see the display name on the caller ID and raised a hand in the direction of Jisung to silence him. It didn't work. Jisung raised his eyebrows with a teasing look on his face, “Wow hyung you’re so popular.” Minho ignored him and picked up the call.

“Would you like me to insert a gigantic needle into your lower back and drain every single drop of your spinal fluid.”

Minho could practically hear Hyunjin grimace through the phone speaker. “Geez hyung, way to greet your bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

“You are not a friend. And by the way, ‘no’ isn’t an option.” Minho takes a peek at Jisung to see his facial expression being between both concerned and wanting to laugh.

“Quell your homicidal tendencies, I’m not calling you to be brutally murdered,” —Minho heard Hyunjin rummaging on the other line— “but I am calling you because Changbin told me to tell you and then to tell his roommate which who I bet is right in front of you right now—”

“I am definitely draining your spinal fluid.” Minho deadpanned.

“Sure, hyung.” Hyunjin dismissed him. “Anyway, let him know that we’re all getting dinner together tomorrow with the group, Changbin hyung’s treat.”

"Oh?" Minho perked up a little at the mention of food. "Alright, tell him I'll be more than glad to make his thick wallet thinner than paper."

A sigh, "I'll pass on the message,” then a snicker. “Have fun on your date.”

Minho only managed to blankly stare at his screen when the call ended with a ‘beep’ before he could say another word.

Jisung stretched his neck towards Minho's phone, “Why are you glaring holes into your phone screen?”

Minho rotated his own head towards Jisung, and said very seriously: “I am flipping through the thick pamphlet in my mind on How To Murder Hwang Hyunjin”

Jisung chuckled and then gave a fake somber look, “My condolences in advance for your friend.”

“He’ll appreciate that.” Minho pocketed his phone. “Say, what are your thoughts on free food?”

Jisung’s eyes lit up.

—

Minho was standing peacefully in front of the korean restaurant Changbin sent the address to, daydreaming about how grass is so green thanks to chlorophyll before he heard a faint rumble of footsteps in the distance.

He dragged his vision to the right to see three of his friends running towards him.

"ATTAAAACK!!" Changbin screeched.

In the blink of an eye Seungmin was holding his wrists together behind his back, Changbin engulfed Minho in a hug and Hyunjin stood beside them, trying to catch his breath while consciously looking around at the people passing by.

Minho didn't have the reflex that could've stopped this from happening but he did have the instinct to try and lean away with what space he had from Changbin's affection, a disgusted expression plastered upon his face.

Changbin pouted exaggeratingly "Oh come on! Accept my love!"

"I will accept your love when the temperature of hell manages to drop below negative forty degrees celsius," —Minho struggled in Seungmin's hold— "Translation for never. Also Seungmin, let me go."

Seungmin let out a short but evil laugh, Minho took that as a no.

Minho looked at Hyunjin, Hyunjin gave him a half shrug and a this-is-none-of-my-business look.

Minho sighed, he had no choice. “Three.”

“Why are you counting down?” Changbin asked suspiciously.

“Two.”

Seungmin piped up, “Are you going to explode?”

“One. Violence it is.” Minho raised his foot a little and stepped on Changbin’s toes with point accuracy. The arms around him were released as the hugging culprit yelped in pain, hopping on one foot. Seungmin, the traitor that he was, started laughing maniacally at Changbin's predicament while clutching his stomach, resulting in him loosening his grip on Minho's wrists. Freedom, Minho saw. Then, it was the opportunity for vengeance as he went over to tickle and wrestle Changbin into submission.

"I do not know these supposed adults." Hyunjin had turned away from the mess of gasped pleas and cackling, mumbling repeatedly with his eyes shut and fingers massaging his temples. "I do not know these supposed adults."

"Hey Changbin!" a voice bellowed. It startled Changbin, which gave Minho an opportunity to poke his ribs. "We're here!"

It was Chan, a senior in all of his dimpled glory and black curls, he was waving. Behind him Minho could see Felix —his sunshine roommate and a wonderful dancer— beaming and defying all laws of gravity by nearly tripping over air, Jeongin nagging him like the grandma in a twenty year old body he is right after and… Jisung, smiling while making a remark about how Felix was so clumsy before almost slamming into a pole himself. Minho realized how small the world can be when he found out that Jisung had been in arm’s reach all this time.

"Chan! Finally." Hyunjin ran over to him and grabbed the friendly senior's shoulders, halting his steps. "Please get me away from these menaces," Hyunjin said very seriously. "I will burst into pieces and I don't think anyone needs to see my dick and balls apart from each other–"

"Okay okay woah," Chan gave a nervous laugh and gently pushed Hyunjin away from himself for more space.

Felix marched up to them (Minho side-eyed Changbin who immediately tried to fix his hair and readjust his wrinkled shirt at the same time). "Hey guys!" He tilted his head of blonde hair. "Why are we talking about dick and balls?"

"It's okay Chan hyung," Jeongin said with an air of calm before the storm. "It'll just be like, sausages and meatballs on the same plate"

"And cranberry sauce," Seungmin piped.

Chan had his head in his hands, "Oh my god-"

"That's a pretty morbid image," Minho stepped away from Changbin and went over to ruffle Jeongin's hair, who yelped and leaned away. "I'm proud of you Innie, I raised you so well."

"We should go in already, people are staring–"

"Yeah, at my amazingly handsome face.”

“Shut up Minho.”

While everyone laughed and continued their conversation Minho turned to see Jisung chuckling along as well with his hands in his pockets, he stood a little away from the group, like he was out of place.

Minho left the others to their own devices and walked up to him, “Hey.”

Jisung grinned, “Hi.”

Minho stood there smiling at Jisung for a few seconds before saying, “You made it.”

Jisung’s grin didn’t leave his face. “Of course I did.” Then his lips grew wider into something more teasing, “Can’t miss the free food our Binnie is so kindly providing.”

“Yah! Binnie?? Watch your manners!” Changbin had heard Jisung and walked over as well, he then raised his right arm to wrap it around Jisung’s shoulders and pulled him in with unnecessary force, Jisung’s throat made an audible weird gurgle noise.

“Hyunjin! Seungmin! This is the roommate I was talking about. Meet Jisung, he's also a 00's kid.” The aforementioned person was failing to escape from Changbin’s strong arms as he gave a little wave, undercut with slight shyness. Seungmin waved back with a friendly smile.

“What’s up!!” Hyunjin waved as well, “I’ve heard many things about you,” he said while grinning.

Jisung finally got Changbin’s arm off of him and gave a snort, “Let’s hope they’re good things.” Hyunjin giggled.

Jeongin clapped his hands together, “Alright since introductions are over can we please eat now?”

“Of course our little sugary, syrupy, scrumptious sweet little loaf of baby bread.” Changbin cooed obnoxiously at Jeongin.

Everyone laughed at Jeongin’s irritated groan as they headed into the restaurant, Minho didn't laugh though, he was slightly distracted by the twinkle in Jisung's eyes.

It took some army stew, pork belly and a few bowls of rice for everyone to loosen up, especially the new addition to their little group.

Contrary to how Jisung was sitting a bit awkwardly minutes prior, he was now letting out rips of boisterous laughter to any joke Minho’s friends had made and sharing anecdotes here and there with animated gestures. He joined in on poking fun of Chan for shrieking when the embers of the barbeque grill flew towards him plus a very passionate debate on whether or not you'd give honest feedback if a friend made foul tasting food.

(“If I put too much butter to the point the kimchi stew had turned into a mustard-ish color, would you eat it?”

“Well, okay, maybe not all of it but–”

“You would rather not hurt my feelings and get poisoned with butter? Butter in fucking kimchi stew??! Who the hell puts butter in kimchi stew? Imagine having your tombstone made and the death cause is just quite literally: ‘Too Much Butter’. You want that?! You want to be laughed at, after your death, by people passing by your grave going ‘Ayo! that's the dumbass who ate too much butter’ just because you lack self-preservation??"

"..."

"Mhm, nope. I didn’t think so.”)

When he wasn't talking he was listening, and when he was talking he was funny and had a way with words, swiftly pulling them from the depths of his mind to form witty responses shooting right out of his mouth. It was charismatic, it was interesting to watch him talk.

"And that’s how I met him, it was super awkward, wasn’t it hyung?”

Minho had been staring at Jisung’s fingers resting on the table for the past ten minutes before he realized he was being addressed, Jisung pivoted his head to face him with an amused smile and a slightly raised eyebrow. Minho blinked rapidly and cleared his throat to appear nonchalant.

“Oh- um. Yeah, yeah it was.” Nice save Minho his brain tried to convince himself.

He looked around to see multiple teasing smiles directed at him. He sent a glare back to each and every one.

“Like I swear, you guys should’ve seen his face. It was like an insane scientist smile, I was a little spooked.” Jisung chuckled.

“Well Minho is clinically insane.”

Minho took a spoonful of bibimbap and shoved it into Hwang Hyunjin’s mouth with practiced ease. “And you, are about to be sent to a clinic."

Time passed as the sky turned darker, Minho caught himself sneaking glances at Jisung whenever he could. Late evening looked good on Jisung, the color of the sun taking an apricot shade of orange as it scattered across half of his features. His eyes had a molten gold circle around the pupil, as if they were glowing.

Sometimes Minho couldn’t see those beautiful eyes, when they disappeared as Jisung squinted from the light or beamed at something joyous. Minho felt something like a water balloon burst, but instead of spraying water it was spreading warmth. Therefore he did what he always does, insert himself into a state of denial and blamed it on the heat from the charcoal grill.

—

Everyone left the restaurant with full stomachs and Changbin’s near empty wallet. They were walking together like a pack of reindeers back to campus, passing all the telephone lines that blended into the dark sky and the streetlights lighting up the pavement. Minho was watching Seungmin cracking another joke about Chan being old when he noticed Jisung was lagging behind a little.

Minho slowed his pace without being too obvious and soon enough he was stepping gently against the ground by Jisung’s side, in Minho’s periphery he saw Jisung kicking stray rocks as he walked with his head low and deep in his thoughts, as deep as the pockets where his hands often frequent.

Once Jisung kicked a slightly larger rock in front of him, Minho decided to speak up with the first thing that came to the forefront of his brain.

“You’re kicking Dwayne Johnson.”

That snapped Jisung out of his cloudy state of mind, he whipped his head towards Minho. Minho noticed the hint of tiredness dulling the twinkle in his eyes.

“Huh? What did you say?”

“I said you’re kicking Dwayne Johnson, it’s disrespectful you know.”

“Dwayne Johnson? What does the rock have to do with–” Jisung’s confused expression changed into one of realization. “Oh.” Jisung gave him a weary, half-hearted glare even though the corners of his lips were twitching upwards, “You’re so lame, hyung.”

Minho unconsciously twitched his eyebrow with an all too knowing smile, he leaned in towards Jisung's space, the latter's face only a few centimeters apart from his own. "Actually, I believe you think otherwise~" Minho sing-songed.

Minho didn't know where he got his confidence from, but he thought the very slight hint of red on Jisung's face was worth it.

Jisung rolled his eyes and shoved Minho away gently. "Shut up, your breath stinks."

Minho relished in his small victory for a few more seconds before the both of them continued to walk in comfortable silence, with the occasional cricket chirping and muffled conversing of their friends walking in front of them. Minho reached into his right pocket, he felt the cold metal of his keys, a packet of unused tissue and the plastic wrapping of chocolate.

He took it out and broke the two-pieced chocolate with the wrapping on before opening it, pinching a piece with his thumb and index finger to offer it to Jisung. Jisung gave him a questioning look, Minho nudged the air in his direction with the chocolate.

Jisung took the sweet, his finger brushed against Minho’s own, lightly. Then he brought it up to his eyes and wrinkled his nose, “I can’t believe you’re giving me the piece with your grimy fingerprints on it.”

Minho stuffed the remaining piece into his mouth with speed and lack of grace, “Too late, no tradebacks.”

Jisung snorted. "You're such a menace,” he said, but he still ate the offered sweet. When they walked past the next streetlight, the reflection of it formed itself into Jisung's irises. A little twinkle.

Minho smiled. “Thank you, consistent insults help me with my ever-inflating ego, it needs some real work.”

At this both Jisung and Minho laughed, Minho thought he could listen to his laugh forever.

Jeongin continuously jabbed at Changbin’s shoulder.

“Ow! Okay, okay. Hey! Stop that, that hurts you little shit!”

“Oh, sorry,” Jeongin wasn’t sorry. “Hyung, do you see what’s behind us?”

“Hm?” Changbin turned around to see Minho and Jisung walking together in silent company, the space between them had lessened. From a respectful distance to hands barely grazing against each other.

“Ah,” Changbin smiled, and then he turned back to ruffle Jeongin’s hair and took on the voice of a wiser, elderly man. “Our Innie, you are too young. I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“For fucks sake I am fucking twenty!!”

“Swear!”

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Twenty Four Hours With You

Just one more hour. Minho told himself. He took off his glasses to pinch at his nose bridge.

It was three in the morning and he was on the four hundredth-something page of his assigned reading. The said reading was on the glaring screen of his laptop, the arial font on white pages made his eyes squint and water.

He needed a break before continuing, so he stood up from his desk and padded out of his room to the shared kitchen, not bothering to keep his steps quiet as Felix was out again at god knows where. Minho took a cup out from the drying rack and poured himself some water from the jug on the counter. He set the jug down with a clunk and walked out of the small kitchen to the tiny living room, making his way over to one of the only two windows of the dorm.

Minho’s dorm didn’t have the best view, most of it was just blocked by the structures of brick buildings, but in between the slivers of space he could see the bustling highway, that one small, family-owned restaurant already up at this hour, and the restless miniscule people walking under orange lights. There were no stars in the polluted sky, but if he tilted his head to a weird angle he could see the half moon glowing brightly. A city that never rests, a city that never sleeps.

He took a sip from his mug of water and closed his eyes, he could still see the screen of his laptop behind them as he listened to the silence of the very early morning.

That silence was very quickly interrupted when three sharp knocks sounded from the front door of his dorm.

He jumped a little at the first knock, his initial thought was to grab something sharp in case someone’s here to steal his framed picture of Soongie, Doongie and Dori (cats are superior) then rationality came back to his brain in full force because seriously, who would want to steal that besides a possible second version of himself?

Minho placed his mug down on the coffee table and made his way to the front door, thoughts flying through his head. Was it Felix? No, it couldn’t be. Minho reminded him to grab his keys this morning so he could let himself in without knocking. Was it Hyunjin? No, there’s absolutely no way. He had his own apartment. Maybe it’s Changbin? His dorm was only a few more doors to his own compared to his other friends so it wouldn’t be too absurd for Changbin to be here if he needed something—

“Hi.”

All of Minho’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when he opened the door to Han Jisung standing in the hallway, strands of blue hair hanging a little messily over his face and two arms clutching a pillow to his torso. He was wearing a basic white tee and some gray plaid pajama pants.

Minho blinked once, then twice, then rubbed his eyes under his glasses. Then he took his hands away, Jisung was still standing there with a sheepish expression.

“Uh,” Minho cleared his hoarse voice from lack of talking. “Hi? Why are you here at this hour?” He questioned, utterly confused.

“Honestly, I think I should be asking why are you up at this hour but anyway,” Jisung inhaled through his nose with a tight-lipped smile. “My dear roommate Changbin hyung is having horizontal refreshment.”

Minho’s tired brain was not having the easiest time comprehending. “...What?”

“He’s tromboning, boinking, engaging in amorous congress, shtupping, bam-baming in the ham, parallel parking, doing the matrimonial polka, going heels-to-Jesus.”

“...Huh?”

“He’s putting the wand in the chamber of secrets.”

Minho’s eyes widened and his brows shot up to his hairline. “Oh.”

“If you still didn’t understand, what I’m trying to say is that he has his male genitalia, shoved so far up in someone else's a–”

Minho waved a hand to interrupt. “Okay! Okay. I got it at the ‘chamber of secrets’ one.” Minho winced, “Still, why are you here though?”

Jisung’s expression turned pleading, like a man who has seen (or heard) too much. “Hyung, he is so fucking loud I think he thought I was already asleep but no! Nope! I wasn’t! I had to hear all of–” Jisung gestured towards where he came from, “–that, and now my memories will forever be plagued with the most horrendous noises I have ever heard in the twenty years I’ve been alive and that had me thinking, I really couldn’t stand being only a wall apart from hyung doing his business so why don’t I just do that by throwing myself off of a balcony–”

“Sung.” Minho placed his hand onto the rambling man’s shoulder. “Breathe, and get to the point.”

Jisung clamped his mouth shut and pursed his lips, as if hesitating.

“Can I stay at your dorm tonight?”

Minho blinked. At his silence, Jisung was talking again.

“It’s okay if you aren’t comfortable with it! I came here because well, obviously you were the closest but I could march up to Chan hyung’s dorm instead– it's only like, a five minute walk to his block?” Jisung stuffed his hand into the pocket of his pajama pants and pulled out his phone, lowering his head towards the screen. “I could text him right now…”

Minho broke out of his slow, sleepy thought process and made a decision. He patted the same shoulder he had his hand on, the action making Jisung look back up at him.

He took his hand off and opened the door a little wider, “Come on in, I hope you don’t smell.” He then gestured to the shoe rack beside the door. “You can put your slippers here, make sure to wipe your feet on the carpet.”

Jisung’s posture slumped as he gave Minho a very relieved smile, “Thank you, so much.”

Minho shook his head with his own smile as if to say it’s no problem.

Minho had shut the door behind them, Jisung was in front of him, pivoting his head left and right, scanning the dorm with interest. For some reason that made Minho a little awkward and nervous, it was just a dorm which had the exact same structure as the rest of his block. It was just his dorm, his little space that he and Felix sort of shared. Now he was sharing it with Jisung.

Jisung turned a little to look at him, silently asking permission. Minho nodded.

Minho watched as Jisung walked around, light and slow footsteps with the air of cautiousness as if he would break something if he stepped a bit too heavily. This gave Minho some time to just observe him. He thought Jisung looked smaller from afar, his dark blue hair had faded into a lighter shade from the first time they met.

It’s been over a month. Minho realized.

The sun had risen and the moon had set over the course of several weeks, they’ve gotten closer, they texted even more often, chats filled with even more nonsensical things. They studied together in the library, feet bumping into each other under the table. They hung out together with the rest of the group, Jisung was getting closer to Hyunjin and Seungmin day by day. Minho would lean towards Jisung with something stupid on his phone, and Jisung's reactions would vary from laughing to slapping Minho's shoulder. They were slowly but surely intertwining themselves into each other's lives like the reef knot Minho learnt to tie when he was in scouts back in elementary, Minho wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that.

He watched as Jisung took a glance at the kitchen. He watched as Jisung randomly poked the armrest of his couch. He watched as Jisung looked through the same window he looked through earlier. He watched as Jisung turned back towards him, asking if he had an extra toothbrush.

He squabbled with Jisung as the latter refused to let Minho sleep on the couch in his own dorm, plopping his insistent and stubborn ass on the gray furniture. Minho never gives in that easily to anyone, he swears! He wrote it off as being too tired to take part in a late night debate, giving Jisung an extra blanket and one of his pillows.

Awkward goodnights were said, and Minho slept under the covers of his bed, thinking about the person just a few walls away from him.

Morning came as Minho got up from his slumber, he rubbed the crusts from his eyes and walked to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror to assess his exhausted appearance, he squeezed some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and stuck it in his mouth. He brushed his teeth while walking out of the bathroom and down the hallway, stopping behind the couch.

Minho walked a bit more and saw that it was empty, Jisung must’ve left. Then Minho heard a click of a key and a turn of a handle.

His dorm door opened to reveal a wild Felix, blonde hair sticking up in all directions. Minho just watched as Felix attempted to close the door and tiptoe quietly into the living room, before inevitably getting the living daylights scared out of him by Minho standing still with his toothbrush still stuck in his mouth.

“Holy shit!”

“Hai,” Minho waved, “er wer you lars night?”

It took for Felix to understand Minho’s muffled words, when he did his expression turned a little panicked with pink blooming across his freckled cheeks.

“I was, uh.” Felix stammered, “Walking? Last night? Yeah I went out for a walk, yup.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, “Ang you… slerpt ouside?”

Felix tried to laugh off the awkwardness, “Mhm, yeah. Comfy bench. Haha…”

Unconvinced, Minho scanned Felix from head to toe of black pajamas.

“Eh,” he shrugged. “None orf mah buisnerse.” He pointed to the fridge, “Leftovarhs for breakfarst.”

Felix’s shoulders slumped in relief and his expression turned grateful, “I am pretty starving, thanks hyung.”

Minho made a gesture that he hoped would signify ‘no worries’ and went back to the bathroom to rinse out the minty toothpaste and put his toothbrush back.

He dried his hands on his sleep shirt and rummaged through his drawer of clothes for the day, then he heard a little ‘ding!’. It was his phone.

Minho grabbed his phone from the night stand to see that he had a few messages to be read, he tapped on the most recent one.

Han Jisung (7:30 A.M.)
thanks again for letting me spend the night! I’ll repay you with a movie recommendation 😁
which is… dugudugudugudugu
howl’s moving castle! chef’s kiss, best movie ever known to man, this film NEEDS to go down in HISTORY.
btw I am going to raise hell on Changbin hyung
idc who the hell he boinked but I WILL GIVE HIM A PIECE OF MY MIND

Minho smiled at the messages like an idiot. For the last message, the gears shifted in his head as he started to connect the dots from the information surfacing back into his mind from last night to his disheveled roommate. The puzzle he’s been trying to solve finally had its last piece, slotting perfectly into its rightful place.

You (7:34 A.M.)

hey bin

wanna hang out?

—

“I don’t understand why you want to spend time with me all of a sudden,” Changbin had said skeptically when he saw Minho sitting under the tree they frequented often at the public courtyard.

Minho looked up from his binder of notes and grinned, catlike. “Can’t I just spend some quality time with my loveable dongsaeng?”

That just made Changbin squint his eyes, and not from how bright the sun was. “Now that, is weird.”

“What’s weird?” Minho smiled innocently.

“The fact that you said the phrase ‘loveable dongsaeng’ out loud, when you clearly prefer using your other outlandish nicknames,” Changbin finally plopped down next to Minho, the shade from the tree leaves shadowing his figure. “You only call me that when you want something.”

Minho hummed “You know me too well,” he clasped his hands and turned to Changbin. “Yes, you're right. I would like to ask you a few questions.”

“What is this? A staged interrogation?”

“You could call it that.”

Changbin snorted and put his hands behind his head, leaning against the trunk while closing his eyes which gave an image of complete nonchalance. “Fine then, shoot.”

After gaining Changbin’s permission, Minho waited a few seconds before starting with, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Changbin —who was used to Minho’s seemingly out-of-nowhere questions— simply replied with a “Nope.”

“I thought so.” At this, Minho mimicked Changbin’s nonchalant position and leaned against the trunk as well, eyes closed. “After all, I’ve seen you developing feelings slowly over the course of the last few years since highschool for a particular blonde boy who has constellation-like freckles and is, by your own words: ‘the textbook embodiment of sunshine.’”

The corners of Minho’s lips were twitching upwards when he heard an immediate rustle in the grass right next to him, his eyes still closed.

“Why are we talking about this?”

Minho decided to not answer Changbin’s question and continued, “Also I’ve noticed you’ve been glancing at him even more shamelessly recently, him doing the same.”

“Shut up–”

“When you thought nobody was watching I saw you and him giggling together like teenagers in love while holding hands.”

“Excuse me? I did not look like a teenager–”

“I also caught him kissing you on the cheek while we were playing cards at Chan’s dorm, you turned reeeaaally pink and to top it all off Jisung told me you were getting quite the action last night–”

“Okay!” The interrogatee had exclaimed –a little too loudly– causing some students nearby to turn heads. Minho opened his eyes to see a tomato red Changbin, blush coming all the way up from his neck to his cheeks. Changbin looked around and then lowered his resigned voice, “Okay, get to the point.”

Minho allowed a smirk of satisfaction to finally appear across his face, anticipation was eating away at him until he finally dropped the bomb.

“Did you finally man up and ask Felix out?”

—

Cheers erupted and shook Chan’s dorm like an earthquake, all of them were directed at the couple sitting on the couch, both blushing furiously.

Hyunjin clapped his hands excitedly and shouted, “I KNEW IT!”

“Finally,” Seungmin sighed in relief.

“Congratulations!” Chan quipped while patting both of their backs.

“Oh no,” Jeongin groaned. “Now they have the rights to be all lovey-dovey and gross out in the open now.”

“When’s the wedding!!??” Jisung yelled.

Minho was observing from a distance, he could only smile at all the different voices speaking at the same time. From the sliver of space between the bodies surrounding the couple, Minho saw both Changbin and Felix exchanging shy smiles. When Minho met Changbins eyes, he gave a thumbs up, which the latter rolled his eyes at. Minho chuckled.

What a great day to play cupid.

—

Five, six, seven, eight and one, two. Three and four…

He literally shouldn’t be awake, let alone be dancing at this hour. He should be sleeping, he knew that.

One, two, skate to the left, boom, six…

His soft blue T-shirt was drenched both on the front and back, sweat seeping into the fabric from his neck and shoulders, creating a pattern reminiscent of how a stalactite is formed.

Eight and one, two, double v, double v, doom ti-ki-tak…

The competition was many, many weeks away, but he couldn’t help but go over his mistakes that happened during the first full-team practice a few hours ago. Hyunjin and Felix had given him pats on the back, even their instructor said it wasn’t a big deal.

But like a forest fire of determination in Minho's heart, once it started he couldn’t stop.

It was just the footwork of his center time left, he just had to nail it all the way.

Doom tak doom tak, doo-doo-doom tak, seven and eight and back-to-the-front and—

Minho froze at the misstep, then raised his head at the ceiling just to stare at it with the music still running in the background. He exhaled sharply, and decided at that moment he would delete himself from this very Earth.

Minho wiped some sweat with the towel he brought and tossed it aside before doing it again, he missed two steps. He tried it again, but now instead of making a mistake at the four count he messed up at two. One more try, just one more.

He managed to blank out and stood there for a full eight count.

Frustrated, Minho had no choice but to take a break. He paused the music and pulled the speaker cord out of his phone port, then he unceremoniously sat down on the wooden floor of the studio. Minho ran his left hand through his damp hair multiple times while his right thumb scrolled through his phone, taking deep breaths. The first thing he did was text Chan who was online to go to sleep before his knee joints started cracking. He received a reply almost immediately, telling him that he had absolutely no right to say that.

When both of his thumbs flew across his keyboard to type a very long and convincing essay, his eyes caught onto something.

Hannie (last seen 12:03 a.m.)

That was a minute ago! Outrageous! Why doesn’t anybody keep their sleeping habits in check! He rang Jisung up.

A tired voice could be heard from the other line, “What the fuck—”

“Go to sleep.”

Two seconds of silence.

“Lee Minho The Hypocrite, you have absolutely no right to say that.”

Minho hummed, “Chan hyung and you have a lot in common.”

“Sure,” Jisung replied simply. “Why are you awake?”

“I’ve been rearranging my limbs into sequences of movement.”

Minho could hear an immediate rustle, “You’re dancing? At this hour??”

“Like I said, I’ve been rearranging my limbs—”

“Where are you.” Jisung interrupted.

“In South Korea,” Minho felt incredibly proud of his response. “Would you like the specific coordinates—”

“Nevermind you’re obviously at the dance studio,” a faint jingle of keys.

“Sung—”

“I’m dragging you out of there.” Beep.

Minho stared at the phone in his hand, then blinked. “Well that was rude.”

In less than twenty minutes the door of the dance studio opened to a tiny human (Minho thought he looked tiny sometimes) stomping towards the dancer laying starfished on the floor, Jisung stopped right at Minho’s head with his hands on his hips, leaning his own head right above him.

Minho blinked at Jisung, Jisung raised an eyebrow. Then Minho gave a look that Jisung knew very well, it was a look that Minho always gave before saying something very Minho-like.

“Whatever you’re going to say, don’t indulge me.”

Minho squinted, “I was just gonna point out how you would look like a potato man if you added two dots to your chin for eyes.”

Jisung sighed and said in an oddly fond voice, “Of course you were.”

Then Jisung raised his head and slowly walked away from Minho’s vision as his eyes seemed to have caught onto something. Minho could hear Jisung walking about to pick up his water bottle, the towel on the floor and stuffing it into Minho’s bag. A few minutes later an arm was extended, obscuring his vision of the beige ceiling with square shaped lights. The hand gestured for Minho to get up.

“No, I'm too comfortable.”

“Come on you big lazy cat.”

Minho groaned.

“Let’s go,” Jisung said while doing a beckoning motion with his extended hand. “You need sleep, you won't be able to do much about your dancing if you don't rest well.”

“Well, in my completely personal opinion–” Jisung raised both of his eyebrows, as if he’s getting ready to give a very good argument for what Minho’s excuse was supposed to be. Minho took one look at Jisung’s insistent posture plus slightly blood-shot eyes and gave in. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Minho grabbed Jisung’s warm hand and pulled himself up to see Jisung’s bright smile, without a word the latter tugged Minho out of the dance studio, Minho had let him.

They snuck out of the dark corridors, out of the building and past the guardhouse, Minho gave the friendly security guard a nod. That particular security guard had been familiar with Minho’s antics, never saying a word whenever he saw students like Minho walking out of campus way too late than a healthy person should.

Both of them were silent, not uncomfortably so, as they had already moved past that part of their friendship. Little bollard lights here and there lit up the way back to their dorm along with the moon’s glow, Jisung still had Minho’s bag slung over his shoulder. Minho wanted to use his hands to take the bag off of him but when he tried to raise them, he realized that he was still holding Jisung’s hand. Neither of them had let go after Jisung pulled him up from the floor, Minho felt himself combusting from his insides. This is fine. Who said friends couldn’t hold hands anyway?

It was only until when they reached Minho’s door did they have to let go of their hands as Minho needed to rummage through his pocket for his key. He unlocked it and turned around for Jisung to give his bag back.

“Thanks, I guess.” Minho muttered while clutching the strap of his bag.

“No problem,” Jisung put his hands in his pockets. “By the way, I want to ask you something.”

Minho tilted his head, “Oh?”

“How was my movie recommendation?”

“Oh.” Minho internally panicked, “Well…”

Jisung was waiting for his answer with an expectant expression, so Minho decided to just wing it instead of admitting that he forgot to watch it.

“Well I was thinking if you wanna, I don’t know. Watch it together? You could get my initial reaction?” Minho patted himself on the back, mentally.

“Oh!” Jisung seemed a little surprised. “You know what, why not? That sounds fun,” Then he smiled mischievously and poked Minho in the sternum. “You buy the snacks.”

Minho rolled his eyes, “The amount of times I’ve lost to you in rock, paper, scissors just to pay for your food is enough to buy me a sweet looking boat.”

“Oh come on, it’s not that much.” Then a questioning look crossed over his face, “Why a boat though?”

“So I can fish with you as shark bait.”

“Do you want to die?” Jisung whacked Minho on the shoulder with an incredulous laugh. It wasn’t that painful but Minho liked to believe that Hyunjin was a great influence for his love for theatrics. Jisung ignored his dramatic display of agony.

“Also for your information, sharks don’t find humans appealing as bait.”

Minho recovered from acting in pain. “Okay,” Minho smiled devilishly when he thought of something stupid to say and leaned in closer to Jisung’s face with a conspiratorial whisper. “What if I said I find you appealing?”

Jisung had red blooming across his cheeks, he waved Minho off frantically and started making his way to his own dorm, “Goodbye! Goodnight! I hope the bed bugs bite your toes off you fucker!”

Minho kept laughing in bursts and just hoped that he wouldn’t get a noise complaint, willing away the red of embarrassment from his ears.

—

Eventually they decided on a date and time and place. Friday, after dinner, Jisung’s dorm. Since Changbin was going to be out late with a special someone (Felix), and Changbin had a Netflix account they could freeload.

In the end, Minho paid and brought the snacks anyway even though he said no. He picked a few packets of chips he knew Jisung enjoyed from the local convenience store and tossed them on the coffee table next to Changbin’s laptop, Jisung smiled at him from ear to ear as Minho actively avoided his gaze and sat down on the couch.

The space bar was pressed and the movie began, Minho stared at the laptop screen and thought the moving castle looked like a huge fish with cysts on its head. He then saw Jisung reaching a hand towards his bag of turtle chips in his periphery, which was why his natural instinct was to tilt the bag away from Jisung’s direction. The latter glared at him.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

Minho smirked teasingly, “Say please but cuter.”

Jisung sighed, and for a moment Minho thought he wouldn’t do it until Jisung whipped his head to look at him with purposefully wide eyes, puffed cheeks and a pout on his lips. If Jisung wore this expression in a cartoon movie, his eyes would’ve had all those little sparkly dots animated into his irises.

Jisung cooed with his voice several octaves higher, “May I have a turtle chip pleeeaaase?”

Minho froze, completely stunned from Jisung’s attempt at being adorable. If he had paid enough attention to his internal organs, he would've been able to tell that his heart skipped a beat.

The culprit for the shock took advantage of his stiffness and stuck a hand in the bag of chips, grabbing a few and then putting on a face of indifference as he popped one of them into his mouth. Minho couldn’t react fast enough, he could only stare at Jisung’s side profile as his junior continued to munch on the stolen chips.

“I thought slyness only applied to foxes,” Minho mumbled after a beat of silence.

“Hm? What’s that?” Minho registered that Jisung had the smuggest smile on his face when he faced him.

“I said you had the personality of cardboard boxes, dumbass.”

Jisung scoffed and pelted a chip at him, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Minho slapped him in the arm, “Hey, don’t fucking waste food!” He exclaimed as Jisung yelped in pain.

Beautiful animation colored Minho’s vision. Every once in a while Jisung would give a word or two about the movie, vibrating with excitement when his favorite scenes came on as if he didn’t watch it a dozen times, and Minho would listen.

At some point they fell completely silent, both of them leaning on their respective armrests. Sometimes Jisung would nudge Minho’s leg, like a reminder that he had company and a body of warmth right beside him, and company has never felt so comfortable.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Five Chords in a Love Song

Minho didn’t know how it was possible, but they grew even closer. Closer than ever before.

Maybe that movie night with Jisung did something, because time had stretched itself so far like the latex arms of the unbreakable Stretch Armstrong. Two months turned to three, and three turned to four, prolonged periods of time seem to just create routines and habits that they unknowingly fall into. Whenever Minho and Jisung went out together with their friends they would always be gravitating towards each other without realizing it. Whenever the other person’s dismissed class was close to the other —though not extremely frequent— they would wait and then walk to their next lecture while chatting.

“Hey! Babe!!”

Oh, and that. They also had the routine of calling each other with terms of endearment, it was a normal ‘best friends thing’ you see.

Jisung was waving at him violently while bouncing his way into Minho’s invisible line of personal space, ignoring all the curious glances.

“You need to stop yelling in the middle of crowded hallways, Sung-ah,” Minho grumbled while handing the other his iced americano. Jisung nodded in thanks, his newly dyed brown hair bouncing.

“Ah, but alas!” Jisung dramatically paused to sip at his drink before continuing. “My affection knows no bounds, my sweet thing,” his smirk was so wide when he caught up to Minho’s retreating back.

Minho could literally feel the heat in his face, he prayed to some damn deity above that none of it showed. “Teach it some bounds, then!”

Minho and Jisung would have everything cleared out on Friday nights just to watch movies together at either one of their dorms. Tonight was a funny romance movie, and Minho was the victim of Jisung’s full-body-laugh-induced skinship.

“If you slap me again I will do the old fashioned ‘mortar-and-pestle’ to your bones.”

“I can’t,” Jisung gave a wheeze while holding his stomach, “Control it.”

When Jisung settled down as the movie started to mellow out into a more romantic setting, Minho felt an added weight to his right shoulder. He turned his head a little to see Jisung resting his head there, eyes still attentive to the laptop screen. Minho’s heart rate sped up a little as Jisung’s soft hair tickled his neck, he swallowed and went back to watching the movie.

The couple were beaming at each other, finally realizing their mutual love. Minho thought it was a little cheesy as he shifted his crossed arms.

“The actors are really good,” Jisung commented. “They’re smiling so fondly.”

Minho hummed, he looked at Jisung and saw longing written across his face. He turned his head back to the movie.

“It would be nice, wouldn’t it? Having someone who completely understands you, by your side, forever.” Jisung mumbled.

“I’ve always… wondered. If I’m ever gonna find someone,” a low chuckle. “The world’s so big, would there ever be a single person who would love me that way?”

Minho said nothing, he didn’t know what to say. He hesitantly wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulder and gave it an awkward pat. Minho wasn’t really great with fragile and vulnerable moments, but he could try. Jisung’s an important person after all.

“Well.” Minho cleared his throat, “W-Why wouldn’t there be? You’re attractive enough, you’re not so bad. And like you said the world is big so logically there should be a higher percentage rate. ”

The weight on Minho’s shoulder was lifted. “You think I’m attractive?” Minho heard the teasing lilt in Jisung’s voice, of course that would be the phrase he latched onto. Minho sighed exasperatedly.

“I said attractive enough, there’s different levels in my book,” Minho muttered.

Jisung giggled brightly, mood completely different to how he was only a few minutes ago. Minho felt a touch on the cartilage of his ear, he froze. “Awwww your ears are so red.”

Minho whacked Jisung’s hand away and raised his fist in warning, “I’ll kill you, I really will!”

Jisung only laughed even louder, eyes scrunched shut and head thrown back as Minho could only look at him with his fist in the air.

“Ugh,” Minho returned to crossing his arms. “I dislike you very much.”

He glared very hard at the black laptop screen as if hoping it would swallow him in darkness while Jisung tried to calm down from his laughing fit. “Honey,” Jisung said in between giggles while getting closer to Minho, he wrapped his arms around Minho’s side as a hug and said with a tone as sweet as the term of endearment, “I think you’re lyingggg~.”

Minho didn’t bother to look at Jisung, knowing the latter was definitely grinning widely at him. Minho scoffed. Yeah, maybe he did lie, but Jisung didn’t need to know that.

—

“Alright team, that was spectacular! Your months of practice have clearly paid off, we are so ready.” The dance instructor said with a proud smile on her face.

Minho felt every muscle in his body protesting against movement, but the tiredness felt good, he felt good. He was also a little shaky, and a little nervous, but no one needed to know that. The rest of the team were tired as well, all scattered around the room in different positions. He saw Hyunjin leaning against a wall and Felix lying down on the floor without a care in the world.

“Get lots of rest and don’t injure yourself! The comp is three days away and I don’t wanna see anybody overworking themselves. Be in peak condition, you hear me?” The instructor wagged a pointer finger at all of them.

Words of “Yes, Miss Park” echoed throughout the room.

Most of the dancers left the studio, leaving a few left including Minho, Hyunjin and Felix.

Felix raised his head from the floor, “Hyung, aren’t you excited?” Felix asked Minho.

Minho shrugged, “I guess so.” He directed his attention towards Hyunjin who was still leaning against the wall, looking as if he was contemplating life while staring off into nothingness. “How about you, Hyunjin-ah?”

“I’m going to mess up every single step and become a laughingstock on stage I’m going to have to change my name, my birthplace, grab all my clothes and flee to a country far far away where no one will know who I am,” Hyunjin then made a mortified expression. “Oh my god and I need to turn into a brunette.”

Felix and Minho could only stare at Hyunjin.

“Minho-hyung,” Felix inquired, “Is Jinnie having cold feet again?”

Minho sighed and walked over to sit beside Hyunjin. “You’ll be fine you dummy,” he said while giving two pats to Hyunjin’s butt. “Let’s head over to the vending machine, we could all use a drink.”

When those words came out of Minho’s mouth, Hyunjin immediately brightened up, “you’ll pay?”

Minho grimaced as if he feared any type of word that had correlation to wasting more money than he should. “Fuck no.”

Hyunjin sighed, “Well, I tried.” He then hopped onto his feet. “To the vending machine!”

A crack of a can, “Minho, come to think of it.” Hyunjin said while drinking his Bong Bong. “Miss Park did say we could invite people to watch right?”

“I think so?" Minho squinted at the choices of canned and bottled refreshments reflecting the bright artificial lights of the vending machine, "I don't know, I was busy trying to breathe."

“I think they still have to pay though, for the tickets.” Felix quipped.

Hyunjin started talking with his hands, the green can in his left moving in tandem with his gestures. “But wouldn’t it be kinda weird and insincere if we said ‘hey we’re inviting you to watch us and support us, by the way, you need to pay–’ oh woah that rhymes.”

Felix shrugged in a ‘don’t-ask-me’ kind of way. “I am merely the concierge of an information counter in this situation," he then raised his head and rolled his eyes ceilingward in thought. "Maybe we could give their money back with the prize money?”

"Well, I guess. But that's only if we win."

Minho was half-listening and wanted to punch in the button of the vending machine for a pear cider, but somehow his finger had a mind of its own.

“Falafel!” He heard the clang of the drink falling into the pick-up box.

Both Hyunjin and Felix turned to look at him.

“You okay mate?”

“What's a falafel?”

Minho sighed deeply and reached into the pick-up box to take out a banana flavored drink with the cartoon of Pororo and Friends plastered across the bottle, the two beady eyes of the damn penguin staring him down.

Hyunjin looked over his shoulder to see the bottle in his hand and snorted, “A trip down childhood lane, hyung?”

“Say another word and I’ll rev’ up the air fryer.”

Hyunjin raised his hands in surrender.

Minho popped open the bottle and looked into the pale yellow contents of his drink, he took a long sip and let the taste of artificial banana cover his tongue. Invite someone, huh? Hyunjin will definitely invite his entire friend group along with Felix, who would he personally invite…

Ah. Well there is one person.

—

“Hyunjin already told me, of course I would come and see you for the competition! Ticket payment or not! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't come and support you?” A very enthusiastic Jisung’s voice crackled through Minho’s phone.

“Uh,” Minho thought for a bit. “A bad friend?”

“Exactly!” Minho snorted at Jisung’s volume. “Send me the where, when, and how and I’ll check my schedule.”

“Okay okay, check your messages.”

“Will do!”

Minho felt warm inside, “Sung-ah,”

“Hm?”

“...Thank you, it means a lot.” Minho muttered quietly, even though Jisung had definitely heard it.

Minho heard Jisung’s little chuckle, then a soft voice on the line, “No problem at all, hyung… no problem at all.”

Jisung was definitely smiling. It’s whatever, since Minho was smiling as well.

—

Seo Changbin (6:00 P.M.)
Hey Min

Minho was in the middle of shoving a mixture of greens and chicken breast into his mouth before receiving Changbin’s message, he continued to eat while typing with his one hand.

You (6:02 P.M.)

qhat do you want

yuo’re disrupting my salad eatonh

Seo Changbin (6:02 P.M.)
I feel extreme remorse for your salad
Anyway, Ji told me to tell you if you want to hang out
He wants to show you sumn

Minho dropped his spoon back into his bowl to type with both hands.

You (6:03 P.M.)

why couldn’t he text me himself

do you have him hostage

Seo Changbin (6:03 P.M.)
Wth of course not

Seo Changbin (6:04 P.M.)
His phone died as soon as he wanted to text you so he asked me to text you

You (6:04 P.M.)

that’s dumb

tell sungie he’s dumb

Seo Changbin (6:05 P.M.)
He said ‘okay’
He said ‘just come over already’

And that was how Minho sped past Changbin unlocking the door and ended up in Jisung’s room with his unfinished salad bowl in hand.

“So what did you want to show me?” Minho said while making his way through the piles of clothes on the floor and eating at the same time.

Jisung turned away from his MIDI (Minho would describe it as this tiny piano looking device with a bunch of knobs and square buttons on the upper half of it) to face him. He had those red headphones again, slung around his neck like the first time Minho saw him. What was different was Jisung wore glasses, that was what Minho hadn’t seen before.

“Okay so I have an assignment— Yah don’t sit on my bed with your bowl of food!”

“It’s a salad!”

“Yeah and it’s food!!”

“There’s a difference! Food is pasta, delicious and tantalizing in the best way possible. Salad is a salad, delicious as well,” — Minho rolled his eyes up in thought, then they came back down — “but greener.”

“Sureeeee,” Jisung nodded skeptically, “and that’s why you put so much roasted sesame sauce to the point I don’t see a single green leaf.”

“Dressings are the most important part of a salad!!”

Jisung didn’t reply this time, turning back to whatever he had on his laptop. “Moving on,” Minho could make out that Jisung was disconnecting his bluetooth headphones from the screen, “prof wanted a song about love, kinda generic but what-fuck-ever, I need my A’s.”

He gripped the back of his chair and spun back around to face Minho, his other arm still on the table, “Here’s what I came up with for now.”

The tap of the space key was like a key to a locked box, releasing what was hidden under the multiple sheets of technology through the tinny sounding laptop speaker. There were no lyrics yet, Minho acknowledged. If he focused enough into the mix of instruments he could hear some piano, definitely some drums, a soft sounding synth coming in every once in a while where he thought maybe the chorus would be. There were so many sounds layering together like a crepe cake. The dancer in him unconsciously moved to the song, swaying a little with tiny nods to the beat.

The end of the song came with the final, drawn out chord of the piano, and Jisung pressed the space key again to stop the track.

Jisung rubbed his neck, “I haven’t come up with the topline yet, neither have I started on the lyrics but,” he had both of his hands gripping the back of his chair now, looking at Minho with those sparkly eyes again, “What do you think so far?”

Minho crunched through his mouthful of lettuce and swallowed his last bite of salad, “Honestly? I don’t think I can judge this early but genuinely though, I think it’s good progress.”

Jisung had a wide gummy smile stretching across his face, Minho decided it would be listed in his brain as one of his favorite Han Jisung smiles. “Really? That’s good then, Changbin hyung said the same thing but I kinda wanted a second opinion so here you are.”

Minho smiled right back, and then he tried to be serious by narrowing his eyes and pointed his sauce-covered fork in Jisung’s direction, “You better show me the final song or I will unleash my inner goblin and steal that laptop myself, you don’t know what these nimble —and not tiny, shut the fuck up— fingers can do.”

Jisung let out a short, bright laugh and Minho couldn’t keep his expression serious anymore, his lips widening in a grin.

They were smiling at each other until Jisung stood up and then plopped himself right beside Minho, taking the empty plastic bowl in Minho’s hands and putting it on the floor. He scooted over, no inch of space left between them. Minho felt Jisung resting a hand on his knee while talking, “Tomorrow’s the competition right?” Jisung tilted his head while looking at Minho, Minho nodded.

“You nervous?” Minho didn't say anything for a moment, he had a hole in his sweatpants and fiddled with it.

He hummed, “Just a little, it’s nothing I can’t handle though.” Then he lifted his head up again, looking at Jisung with a half grin forming on his face, “You should see Hyunjin, he’s definitely more nervous than I am,” Minho chuckled.

Jisung gave a reassuring smile, and then began to do an exaggerated speech like a mother to her kid. “Ahh our sweet Minho, you’re going to do very well, you’re going to sweeeeeep—,” Jisung dragged the vowels out while making a big hand gesture, “ —them off their feet like the winner you are, yeah? No dinner for you if you don’t!”

“Hah, as if you can cook.” Minho giggled at Jisung’s antics, the latter joining in a second later. Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho for a hug, Minho's arms reciprocated the hug, eyes unknowingly fluttering closed to relish in the moment. Then Jisung pulled back, both of them stopped giggling just to smile at each other once more. This was when Minho realized how close they were. Of course, closeness with Jisung wasn’t new, but they were face-to-face this time, Minho couldn’t help but admire Jisung’s genuine beauty.

Yeah, that’s it. Genuine. The word he thought Jisung suited the most along with the word sincere. His eyes darted around Jisung’s face, he could see a little mole on the left side —Jisung’s left— a little above his lips, some fading acne scars Jisung must’ve inherited from his youth, the glasses were thinly-framed and he could see some fallen lashes and bits of eye crust sticking to the lenses, a little gross. There was another really tiny mole near the corner of Jisung’s lips and if he dragged his vision up a little bit he noticed that Jisung’s lips looked very soft and— wait.

They were really close.

Minho pretended to cough violently into his elbow, scooting back a little in the process. He raised his head back up while clearing his throat, noticing that Jisung was blinking rapidly as if he was trying to blink out of a dream, blush spreading all over his cheeks.

“O-oh, um, you okay?” Jisung looked awkward now.

Minho didn’t exactly know what to do with the heat rushing to his face and the belated realization that his heart was beating extremely fast, so he just did what he did best.

First step, improvise:

“You– um– glasses.” Minho mumbled.

“Uh, w-what?” Jisung frowned in confusion.

Second, adapt:

Minho raised both of his hands and removed Jisung’s glasses gently from his head, taking the hem of his sweatshirt and wiped it, head low and focused on wiping, trying to not pay attention to Jisung’s expression in his periphery.

Third, overcome:

He blew on the glasses and wiped it a few more times, when it was clear of fingerprints he handed it back to Jisung.

“Here.”

“Oh.” Jisung blinked down at the glasses handed back to him, “Thank… you?”

(And that, ladies and gentlemen and non-binary folk, was how Lee Minho survived the never-ending challenges of the universe.)

Minho wrinkled his nose, the thumping of his traitorous heart grew louder in his ears. “How did you even see with those, there was so much gunk.”

At this point Jisung had finally come back to his senses. “Uh.” He gave an embarrassed smile, no longer awkward, “I squint? I don’t think there’s much of a difference either wa— oh.” Jisung made a surprised expression when he put his glasses back on.

Minho paid no mind to how fond he felt and stood up from the bed, huffing. “Clean them more often… idiot.” He patted Jisung’s head two times and promptly left the room as fast as he could.

He ignored Changbin’s questioning gaze and beelined for the door, grabbing his shoes from the rack and kneeling down to put them back on. He opened the door and was walking down the hallway past at least five doors until he heard Jisung calling his name.

He stopped and turned around to see Jisung standing near the door Minho just left.

“What?” Minho raised his voice a little so Jisung could hear him, “Did I leave something??”

“No! You didn’t!” Jisung raised his voice back.

“Then what is it?!”

“..."

Minho watched as Jisung scrunched up his face while announcing something with unnecessary volume.

"GOOD LUCK FOR TOMORROW HYUNG! I’LL CHEER FOR YOU SO HARD THAT I’LL EMBARRASS YOU!!!”

A few students poked their heads out of their dorms from all the commotion only to see Minho standing there, lips parted as Jisung immediately rushed back into his dorm after the loud, albeit theatrical declaration.

If Minho had been smiling a lot recently, then he was definitely breaking into the biggest smile he has ever had in his twenty-two years of life, and when he realized that it was a ‘someone’ who made him smile like that, the smile went as quickly as it had come. Instead it was replaced with a feeling of something impactful landing on his chest, fizzling out into the tingly warmth he always felt when Jisung did something stupid, the warmth when Jisung was right beside him, the warmth he always felt when Jisung did or said something so genuine and so Jisung, into the warmth he always felt when Jisung smiled, into the warmth when he was the one who made Jisung smile, into the warmth they both shared.

It was in that hallway, that Minho finally let himself recognize that the incomprehensible warmth he felt, was the feeling of love.

—

Minho popped one of the chocolates he keeps on him into his mouth. Tap, tap, tap. Finger tapping away on his leg.

The day of the dance competition came. If the pre-competition nerves weren’t kicking his ass a few days ago, they were certainly kicking his ass now.

The competition was set in their university’s hall. The next three teams including Minho’s were sitting backstage waiting for the intermission to pass, after the intermission it would be Minho’s team next.

Minho stood up from where he was sitting and used a finger to part the curtains slightly, he saw students filing back in through the main entrance, taking their seats below the raised platform of the stage. He scanned through the hall of people and saw Seungmin crossing his arms while talking to Jeongin in the middle section of chairs. He spotted Changbin and Chan holding what seems to be a big sign with some words on it, Minho bet that they were going to pull it out during their turn. Right next to them was the person he was looking for, who was glancing around in both excitement and a slight touch of unease from the amount of people.

Did Jisung always look that good? He wondered. Today his hair seemed extra soft, parted down the middle with strands of brown hanging in front of his forehead. He was in a hoodie for god’s sake, why did he look so good? Maybe it wasn’t just the pre-competition nerves kicking his ass, it probably also was something else, it was definitely something else with how hard his heart was thumping against his ribs. Does liking someone just elevate your perception of them or something?? He then felt another person joining him in peeking through the curtains as well.

“Holy shit there’s so many people,” Hyunjin whispered frantically into Minho’s ear. “Is it too late to drop out?”

Minho let go of the curtain, turned around and grabbed Hyunjin by the shoulders to try and shake the nervousness out of Hyunjin, then flicked the blonde’s forehead for good measure.

Hyunjin’s hand flew up to his forehead while making an offended expression, “OW, what was that for??!!”

“Calm down, Hyun-ah,” Minho hesitantly took Hyunjin’s wrists into his hands and pulled them away from his face, Minho's eyes widened. “Oh. You’re shaking,” He said in a softer voice.

Minho watched his friend inhale deeply with his eyes shut and face scrunched, then he exhaled and let all the creases in his face relax.

Hyunjin then confessed, “I feel like my nerves won't let me do the things I'm good at.”

Minho was so bad at finding comforting things to say, it frustrated him sometimes that his brain can give him a bunch of different words for an assignment but then start lacking in the most crucial moments like this one, Felix was always better at it. But he took one look at his friend’s doubting expression, and an idea popped up in his head.

He let Hyunjin’s wrists go in favor of rummaging through his pockets, he found the other piece of chocolate he had on hand and tore a bit of the wrapper, then offered it to Hyunjin.

“Oh,” Hyunjin said, “Thank you.” Minho watched as Hyunjin took the chocolate and bit into it, it gave him enough time to find something to say.

“The nerves aren’t a bridge troll, Hyunjin. They can’t say ‘thou shall not let you pass’.”

Minho felt relief when he saw Hyunjin snort in the middle of chewing what was left of the chocolate, “Your analogies are so stupid, hyung.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Minho paused for a moment to gather the jumbled words in his brain. “You got Felix, you got me, you got the team. This isn’t our first competition Hyunjin, you were nervous every single time, but you managed to nail it every single time as well. So, you got this, I mean it.”

Minho could see Hyunjin had an expression of shock on his face from his own sincerity, then his friend's features slowly morphed into mirth as he started to burst out laughing.

“What? What!!??” Minho exclaimed, embarrassed.

“Your,” —Hyunjin wheezed— “Ears,” —Hyunjin wheezed again— “Are so fucking red.”

“I swear to god I will use my shoelace to strangle you I’m trying to be a good and nice and model hyung but this is what I get!”

Hyunjin was still trying to breathe, Minho could catch a few more words from Hyunjin’s mouth which was something along the lines of ‘serious doesn’t suit you’. The people sitting closest to the stage could probably hear them with how loud Hyunjin was laughing.

He was about to pull Hyunjin into a chokehold and give him a piece of his mind until a backstage handler announced that the intermission was going to end in about thirty seconds. Minho glared at Hyunjin trying to stifle his uncontrollable giggles the entire time they walked back to where their team sat.

Minho could hear the loud voice of the emcee hyping up the room, the crowd returned his energy with their loud screams. All of Minho’s team had gotten up to stretch a little, gave pats on each others’ backs and whispered words of encouragement in each other’s ears. Minho was still pretty nervous, he kept going over his steps, especially his center part, he wouldn’t admit it and most definitely would not let it show but he was incredibly terrified that he would mess up and bring down his team, he couldn’t afford that.

But Minho took a glance at Hyunjin, who looked more confident than when Minho had flicked his forehead. He took a glance at Felix, who looked really excited while stretching his legs. Minho felt better with the reminder that he had his team by his side, his tense shoulders started to relax.

“And now, let us welcome the home team of Hankuk University who will be performing a routine called ‘Let The World See,’ this routine consists of the many types of street dance around the world, to let you all know just how much diversity the dance community truly has. Take the stage, ‘MISCHIEVOUS DOKKAEBIS!!’”

If the screams were loud behind the curtain, then it was deafening from outside of the curtain with no barrier to absorb the sound waves. Minho’s heart pounded as he walked onstage with his team and took his formation. The lights haven’t come on yet, so he gave Felix and another member of the team a pat on the butt respectively. His eyes wandered a bit throughout the crowd, he saw the three judges on another raised platform below the stage, their eagle-sharp eyes ready to catch anything they’d lack. He also saw a sign with a few scribbled words on it:

‘BOW DOWN TO MINHYUNLIX, OUR DANCE KINGS!!’

Minho was going to stick cherry tomatoes in his friends’ eyes, out of gratitude.

The lights came on as the music started with a booming bass, Minho’s team all began to move.

The routine began with all the members’ arms moving in a sharp motion in different directions, then relaxed into slow arm waves that resembled seaweed underwater with the dreamy synth. The arms were then sharply kept on beat as Minho walked from his formation and made his way to the front of the stage slowly with a handsome smirk growing on his face, the crowd screamed.

When he was walking to the front of the stage, the rest of his team had lined up behind him. At the same time the rap of the song had already begun. Minho stopped right as the rap and the music stopped, even the crowd went silent. He brought his cap down, but with his mouth still visible enough to lip-sync to a single line of lyrics right after the silent interval.

‘We gon’ let the world see.’

The words echoed through the speakers and into the entire hall.

Immediately the entire team jumped together twice to travel to the sides of the stage on beat with two loud bass drums of another song in the mix, revealing the second center of the team’s powerful dancing, the rest of the team following the center’s movements in a domino effect.

The breakers of their team busted out some killer air freezes, Minho catched Felix having a blast at the afro part of the routine in his peripheral vision, after a few moves of waacking the locker in their team really gave into the funky change of music. Minho’s center part was next, he was going to lead the house section of the routine as the music once again transitioned.

Five, six, seven, eight and one, two. Three and four…

For some reason while he was dancing, a few memories popped up inside his brain.

One, two, skate to the left, boom, six…

“Come on you big lazy cat.”

“Of course I would be there! What kind of a friend would I be if I wasn’t?”

"GOOD LUCK FOR TOMORROW HYUNG! I’LL CHEER FOR YOU SO HARD THAT I’LL EMBARRASS YOU!!!”

Eight and one, two, double v, double v, doom ti-ki-tak…

His eyes subconsciously went back to the place Jisung was sitting. He couldn't see clearly while moving and all, but he knew Jisung was right there, eyes glued to Minho and cheering for him loudly.

Minho smiled. He was hit by a wave of tingly warmth, confidence, and an urge to tear the stage up with all he’s got.

Doom tak doom tak, doo-doo-doom tak, seven and eight and back-to-the-front, shuffle and dodge, shuffle and dodge, tip tap toe and jump with a pose!

He did it.

He didn’t mess up.

Minho stepped back to change places with Hyunjin, letting his friend take the stage.

The feeling was euphoric, Minho felt alive as he kept dancing his heart out with his team. His sweat was dripping down from his temples, his muscles were constantly working, breathing was always a little harder during dancing but everytime he gasped for air he loved it. And he loved the person looking at him with stars in his eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder if that person felt the same way.

Their ending formation was responded with a hollering crowd and room shaking applause, a few people even stood up. Minho was exhausted in the best way possible.

Minho’s team bowed and began to walk to the backstage, he heard a few more shouts undoubtedly coming from his friends.

“Lix you were awesome!” Chan shouted in English.

“Hyunjin-ah! You killed it!” Jeongin voiced informally.

“OUR YONGBOK, YONGBOKKIE, FELIX LITTLE PIXIE LIXIE!! YOU PRINCELY KINGLY BEING JUST WAIT UNTIL I SMOOCH YOU FOR HOW SEXY YOU WERE ON STAGE!!!”

That was definitely Changbin.

“LEE MINHO!”

Minho stopped walking as soon as he heard a familiar voice shout his name. Ah, his heart was racing.

His eyes once again found Jisung, below the stage he gave Minho a thumbs up.

“GREAT JOB!” Jisung smiled widely.

Minho beamed, his glow of joy rivaling the sun.

They won. Minho’s team name was shouted into the microphone, all the members came in for a group hug while the crowd let out rips of joyous screams. He could see under all the mass of bodies that Hyunjin was tearing up along with some of the team members, Minho chuckled and gave a small pat on each of their backs.

Minho strode along with Hyunjin and Felix towards the cafeteria where everyone from the hall had dispersed in order to find their friends. When they found them, Minho saw a cannonball of a human suddenly flying towards him, arms opened in embrace. It was Jisung. His mouth stretched so wide that Minho could see his gummy smile from a distance.

"Hyung!" Jisung exclaimed while running in his direction, "You did so well!"

The adrenaline from winning was still pumping in Minho's veins, his body moved out of impulse as he dropped his duffel bag and strode towards Jisung with a laugh. They met in the middle and collided like planets but instead of getting bounced back they were embracing each other so tightly. It was warm, it was the smell of Jisung's hoodie, it was the feeling of Jisung's arms around him, all Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. He had closed his eyes to enjoy the moment before they snapped open again when he realized they were hugging it out in a public area.

Jisung somehow seemed to simultaneously have the same realization and they awkwardly stepped away with lingering, perplexed hands.

"Uh." Minho tried to begin while his traitorous ears burned like fire.

Jisung's face wasn't looking that much better either. "Uhm."

It was like their first meeting all over again, for a moment it was as if they were back to square one, back to where they had started.

"Woah," Felix broke the bubble and dropped Minho's duffel bag onto his outstretched hand, eyebrows raised. "I think I just watched a sunset-running-towards-each-other-on-the-beach scene from a romantic movie but minus the sunset, and the beach."

Jisung's smile was sheepish, Minho saw him scratching at his nape.

Minho then saw Hyunjin with his mouth agape, before his blonde friend could start inevitably screeching Minho smacks a hand to cover his mouth.

"Mmfp hmfph mmph!"

"Shut up." Minho deadpanned.

Jisung giggled at the sight of Hyunjin's distress. The rest of the friend group managed to find them soon enough, and they all showered the three dancers with compliments and warm, congratulating touches. Minho couldn't stop thinking about how the friendly warmth didn't exactly match up to the one he experienced in Jisung's embrace. So he looked at Jisung, long and hard and maybe even lovingly, and decided to make a decision.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

5 Ways to Say ‘I love you’ + 1 Thousand Ways to Show It

You (10:03 A.M.)

oi

are you free today

Hannie (12:10 P.M.)
not even a hello?? D:
anyway yeah, i was about to ask you the same thing actually!
wanted to hang out

You (12:12 P.M.)

k cool

at the park near campus? like, 6:30 maybe?

to watch the sunset

Hannie (12:13 P.M.)
didnt think you were such a romantic hyung (◕‿◕✿)
ill see you there! :D

You (12:13 P.M.)

Shut up or I’ll have Seungmo perform surgery on your balls, I’m threatening your future

See you

Usually, when people are asked about Minho they would say: “Oh that guy? He’s cool, collected, quite composed for a uni student”, sometimes Minho would agree, and sometimes he begs to differ.

Today was another day he begged to differ.

As he was sitting down on a blanket he prepared on the grass and looking around at the children screeching, couples sharing smiles, laughter and kites flying in the air, he felt his palms sweat. This day was the day where he’s going to confess, no matter what happens, he’d accept all the consequences.

The sound of grass crunching was behind him, he turned around to see Jisung walking over. He wore a cardigan so soft just like the hair he decided to keep a little longer, the same red headphones he always wore around his neck. A fond smile on his face reserved only for Minho. Minho’s heart skipped a beat from it, he thought he’d never be tired of that feeling.

Jisung sat down right beside him, little to no space in between them with their knees touching together. Minho saw him fidgeting a little with his hands.

“Hey,” Jisung said softly.

“Hi,” Minho said back, just as soft.

They look at each other, just like that for a few moments. It brought Minho back to the day they met at that diner, of how the bubble forming around them at the time seemed to last forever.

Jisung was the one who broke it first, rummaging around his bag to give Minho his phone.

A noise of confusion came out from the back of Minho’s throat, he looked at Jisung. “Why?” he asked.

“Remember the song I had to do for an assignment? The one where I had to write about love?” Minho nodded. “I finished it, and I said I wanted to hang out because I wanted to show it to you.”

Jisung took the headphones out from around his neck and came closer to Minho, he stopped for a moment, looking down at the ground with hesitance.

“This song… means a lot to me.”

“Oh,” Minho said. “Care to share?”

Jisung looked back up to Minho with an unreadable look on his face, Minho thought he looked really pretty. “It has something I want to convey, something for you, actually.” Maybe Minho was imagining it, but he felt like the blush on Jisung’s face had darkened.

Minho inhaled, “alright, hit me with it.”

The red headphones were snapped onto Minho’s head, Jisung’s finger reached out to press play.

Everything he had heard before was there, the soft chords of a piano, the grounding sound of a bass drum. Beats coming in like the light pitter patter of rain, a little cheeky up, up, up of something that sounded like a xylophone in the background, a dreamy sounding synth at different parts all coming together like a ball of musical yarn knitting itself into a track.

But the thing he hadn’t heard before was Jisung’s voice, crystal clear and weighing with raw emotion. Lyrics of want, desire, afraid of who he’d lose but more afraid of what he wouldn’t gain if he doesn’t try flow throughout the entire song.

Minho listened, his head turned on his own to look at the young man beside him whose face was bathed in golden light, sunkissed. The young man who looked at the sunset off in the distance with closed eyes. The young man who was warmer than the Sun. The young man who creeped up slowly and subtly, before capturing his heart without giving him time to react. The young man who shared everything and anything with him, even his love.

In the last beats of the song that matched his heart’s, he understood.

The song faded out, and Minho took the headphones off to put it aside along with Jisung’s phone. Jisung noticed and turned around fully to face him, eyes flitting around nervously.

“So. Um, what did you think?”

Minho wanted to take his time and collect his words. “Sung, I–”

Jisung immediately went off into a ramble: “You can be honest if you think it sucks. I wouldn’t mind if you’re honest about it ‘cause to be fair I think the second verse could be a bit better and the synth for the hook maybe could’ve been dialed down a bit or like was the lyrics good enough or was it too cringey–”

“Sung,” Minho put a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, the other tilting his head up to face him. He saw them again. The chocolate chip on the corner of Jisung’s lip, the fading acne scars, the lashes he could count for hours, the same soft brown eyes glowing gold in the sunset. They were so close.

“Can I kiss you?”

At this, Jisung’s tensed muscles underneath Minho’s hand relaxed. A smile grew on his face, in tandem with Minho’s own smile. Minho felt like his heart was bursting at its seams.

“Yeah, hyung. Go ahead.”

Minho thought he shared many things with Jisung throughout the course of their friendship. From laughter to many moments splattered across the canvas of their slowly, but surely intertwined lives. But as he felt Jisung’s soft lips against his own, he thought sharing a kiss with Jisung was probably one of the best things they’ve ever shared.

He was glad he had shared a table with Jisung on that one, unfortunate but special day. Or else he wouldn’t have met Jisung at all, and wouldn’t have been able to share the past few months and undoubtedly, the rest of his life with him.

fin.