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Jisung used to love getting ready for the club. He and Felix and their friends would get all made up, dress in their best clothes, wear their finest jewelry, all to get shit faced at some random club that Felix had found. It was a good time, at least in college, when Jisung wasn’t prone to debilitating hangovers.
Even now, as he’s getting ready for the club after a long, hard day at work, he thinks it’s fun. The anticipation of what might happen buzzes underneath his skin, causing him to fuck up his eyeliner a few times. Oh well, he can ask Lix to do it for him.
He has on his favorite wide-legged jeans, ripped strategically, and a tight mesh top with a tank top underneath. He shrugs on his leather jacket and dabs on some lip gloss just as the doorbell sounds. He screws the applicator back into the tube and gives his reflection one last once-over. Yeah, he’s getting laid tonight. Just gotta get the liner and he’ll be ready.
Felix was standing outside, tapping his foot impatiently, when Jisung finally opened the door. He pushes past him and runs to the bathroom. Jisung blinks.
“You good?” He calls out, trailing slowly after him.
“Sorry, mate!” Felix responds, voice muffled by the closed door. “Had to take a piss. I couldn’t before I left ‘cus I lost track of time!”
Jisung hums, opening the door once he hears the flushing sound. “Can you help me with my liner?”
Felix looked at him through the mirror, scrutinizing. “You wanting to get fucked tonight?” He shakes the water off of his hands, ignoring the hand towel hanging near him. Jisung huffs and grabs it, taking Felix’s hands to dry them himself.
“Yeah, I just wanna get over her.”
Felix stays silent, knowing better than to comment on Jisung’s questionable coping mechanisms. He wordlessly opens the medicine cabinet, grabbing the bottle of liquid eyeliner that Jisung hadn’t used in months. Felix was smart, Jisung had been using a pencil.
He switches places with Felix, leaning back against the counter and closing his eyes to let the other work his magic.
Tongue out and holding his breath, Felix swipes the cool, black liquid across Jisung’s lids, then taps his cheek to signal when he’s finished.
“Thanks,” Jisung mutters, turning to examine the makeup.
“‘Course, Sung.”
Jisung actively avoids meeting Felix’s eyes, knowing what he’d see – pity and concern.
It had been a month and a half by now since he’d broken up with his long-term girlfriend, Chaesol. She was amazing, if a bit of a jealous person, and they’d been happy. Or so he thought.
She’d asked him to meet at her place, nothing out of the norm. Jisung had gone over, armed with takeout from their favorite Thai place. He’d gotten her the yellow curry, he remembers, because she couldn’t stand the aftertaste of the red. He’d gotten the Tomka soup – he’d been craving the coconut undertones.
He blinks, realizing he’d spaced out. He closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and sighs out slowly. “Are you ready to go, Lix?”
Felix purses his lips, “We don’t need to go out tonight, Jisung-”
“Felix,” Jisung looks into the mirror to finally meet his eyes, “Please.”
He needed to get his mind off of everything – to escape his head. What better way than getting blackout drunk and fucking some nameless stranger? Better yet, getting fucked by some nameless stranger. He could use a bit of pain tonight.
Felix just lets out a breath and grabs onto Jisung’s arms, spinning him around, and bends down a bit to be in his line of sight. “You are worthy of love, Jisung. You deserve to live a nice, long, happy life with someone at your side.”
Jisung swallows. It’s dry. “Yeah, yeah. Can we just get out of here?”
Felix hesitates but relents. “Yeah. I’ve got the car running outside.”
They pull up to the club they used to frequent in their early twenties. Une nuit à vivre , or one night to live , is a slightly more upscale place. The workers are always wearing dress clothes, and you can be kicked out if you aren’t dressed correctly. It’s not too strict though, you just have to actually be wearing clothes, unlike what he and Lix used to wear during college. It attracted more of the high-class patrons, and it was a nice atmosphere. The music still threatened to deafen you, but the second floor allowed for a slight reprieve from the noise at a reasonable price.
Once they’re parked, Felix turns to look at Jisung. “You’re sure -”
“Oh my god,” Jisung groans in exasperation. “Yes, I’m sure. I am fine. I want to do this. I’m not just trying to escape from myself-” a lie, “and I am not going to have a breakdown.”
That happened in the first week after his breakup. Felix had taken him out – It’ll remind you how amazing you are! – and as he was ordering a drink at the bar, he’d suddenly begun to cry.
Really, it’s not that surprising, retrospectively at least. At the time, though, Felix had apologized profusely and took him home and they spent the night cuddled up together and watching random YouTube videos in Jisung’s bed.
Felix nods, “Okay. I trust you. Let’s go in, then.”
Jisung doesn’t let the guilt of his lie follow him out of the car, instead choosing to focus on the excitement of letting loose and having fun after so long.
After waiting in line for ten minutes, paying and showing the bouncers their IDs, they finally got through the doors and a wall of perfume and cologne hit them. It honestly smelled like home to Jisung, who hadn’t been to the club (aside from the attempt in which he broke down) in two years. There was no need with a long-term partner.
Breathe, Jisung .
Felix drags him up to the bar, where a different tender, thankfully, was standing. It would’ve been awkward if the same person that’d witnessed him cry over ordering a whiskey neat had to serve him again. Probably. They actually likely wouldn’t have remembered him.
Felix orders two shots of tequila for each of them, and then two fruity-sounding cocktails.
Once they have the shots in front of them, Felix lifts one in the air. “To new beginnings.”
Jisung hesitates unconsciously, then shakes his head. He couldn’t be getting stuck on the past if he wanted to even try moving on. He holds up his own glass, clinking the two together. “To new beginnings.” He throws his head back and swallows.
Maybe an hour later, he finds himself dancing back against a stranger. It was odd at first, and his first instinct was to pull away, but then he remembered just why he was at the club in the first place and backed up into the other’s hold. He hadn’t actually gotten to see who he was dancing with, but at that point he didn’t particularly care.
He let loose. He danced like nobody was watching, reveling in the feeling of the other’s hands on his hips. It was exhilarating.
The song ends and he turns around, arms coming up to circle around the other’s neck. He finally sees who’d been holding him, and he’s honestly a bit shocked. He knew it was a man, based on how the other was holding him, but–
This man is exquisite.
He has soft, full lips, stretched into a smirk. Any modeling agency would fawn over his cheekbones. His brows are sharp enough they could cut glass, and his eyes are a deep brown that Jisung finds himself drowning in.
Realizing he’d just been ogling the other, he coughs awkwardly and looks down in embarrassment, only to realize his mistake too late. The man’s build is phenomenal. His muscular body is on display under his tight, long-sleeve shirt, his wide shoulders and thick thighs making Jisung want to worship him.
Jisung quickly looks back up to the other’s face, flushing a bit at the knowing look he sends him.
The man leans in, speaking directly into Jisung’s ear. “Lee Minho.”
Jisung furrows his brows, not understanding what he’d said. He’s about to ask what the other meant when he realizes that that must have been his name.
He clears his throat, hips still swaying along with the beat, and speaks into the ear offered to him. “Han Jisung.”
The other – Minho? – smiles sweetly at him then. He jerks his head, motioning to the bar. Jisung nods and before he can think any further, he’s being whisked away.
“So, what are you drinking, Han Jisung?” Minho asks, mirth lighting up his eyes.
“I honestly don’t know, Lee Minho. My friend ordered for me earlier.” He replies, leaning back against the bar and resting his elbows on the lip of the counter.
“How’s a seltzer, then?”
Jisung nods, looking out at the crowd to try to spot Felix. There, in the very middle of the dance floor, is his friend. He’s dancing wildly with another man, both of them very obviously feeling one another up.
A tap on his shoulder brings him out of his trance, and he turns to see Minho holding out two cans, both unopened. “I wasn't sure what flavor you wanted, so I ordered a lime and a strawberry. I’ll have whatever you don’t take.” He smiles at Jisung.
Jisung takes the strawberry from his outstretched hands and cracks the can open. “Lucky for you, I love strawberry.”
Minho laughs and cracks open his own can. They both take swigs from their respective drinks, and Jisung turns to face the other.
“So, Lee Minho, what’s your reason for being out tonight?”
Minho hums. “I got dragged here against my will.”
Jisung huffs, amusement clear in his body language. “By who? The mafia?”
Minho barks out a laugh. “God, he wishes he could be cool enough to be in the mafia,” Minho shakes his head fondly. “No, just my friend. I mentored him in college and he latched onto me. Never lets me stay in on the weekends, always making me try new things.”
Jisung smiles at that. “He sounds sweet.”
“He is, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes a guy just wants to lay in bed with his cats for three days straight.” Minho pouts playfully, breaking when Jisung laughs again.
“I get that, except for the cat part. I’m technically a little allergic, but I love the little furballs anyways.”
Minho blinks at him. “Well, that sucks. I would’ve offered for you to meet my babies, but I don’t want you to blow up.”
Jisung smiles, “I’m usually fine around them. They just can’t lick me, or I get hives.” Jisung blinks, then realizes he’s talking about his allergies to a potential hookup. God, how awkward can he get?
Minho hums, taking a sip of his drink. “Good. There’s hope for you yet.”
Jisung laughs and shakes his head.
“What brings you out, Han Jisung?”
Jisung sighs. “I just needed to get out of the house and have a little fun. My friend is over there,” he points right at Felix, who’s now shamelessly grinding against his dance partner, “he suggested going out.”
Minho squints, then bursts out into a laugh.
“What?”
The other shakes his head and sips his drink again. “The one groping him is the one who brought me here.”
Jisung laughs incredulously. What are the chances?
He looks back over to Minho after sipping his drink. “Small world?”
Minho grins at that.
After a bit more talking, and both of their cans are empty, the conversations lulls. Jisung’s looking at the dance floor again, debating whether or not he should go back out.
“Jisung.”
He looks over to Minho, quirking a brow in question.
“Wanna get out of here?”
Jisung feels butterflies erupt in his belly.
He looks the other up and down. He’s mirroring his own position, leaning back on his elbows against the bar top. He thinks about how handsome Minho is, and he thinks about how much he would love to be bent over the nearest surface by those strong arms.
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Jisung texts Felix, letting him know that he’d be heading out with a guy he met, adding his location for the next twenty-four hours. They always do that, wanting to make sure the other is safe at all times. He also tells him to have fun with his own partner, sending a quick picture of the two in the middle of a sensual dance.
Minho grabs onto Jisung’s hand and leads him to the exit. A blast of chilled air hits him square in the face, and he can’t help the shiver that overtakes him. He suddenly remembers his jacket, then recalls leaving it in Felix’s car. He sighs silently and resigns himself to the cold walk.
Minho glances back, noticing Jisung’s annoyed face. “Cold?”
He sighs out loud this time. “Yeah, but it’s alright. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Minho laughs at his dramatics. “Don’t worry. My car’s just around the corner.”
And he’s not lying. They turn the corner and there’s a black SUV parked right there. Minho leads him to the passenger door and opens it for him. Jisung is pleasantly surprised at the turn of events, chivalry much appreciated.
He says as much once Minho climbs into the driver’s seat. “It’s the least I can do,” he responds, turning on the car and blasting the heat.
Jisung lets out a pleased hum when the seat heater turns on as well, grinning and wiggling around to take in the warmth.
Minho glances at him and huffs in amusement. “Music?”
Jisung makes grabby hands and Minho hands over his phone. When Jisung asks for the password he relays it dutifully, pleasing the darker corners of Jisung’s mind. Chaesol never let him see her password. A red flag he should’ve seen beforehand.
He shakes his head, and goes for the music app.
Minho glances at him again as he pulls out of his parking spot. “Something on your mind, darling?”
Jisung hums noncommittally. “Just thinking.”
“Careful with that, we wouldn’t want your pretty head to start steaming,” Minho teases. Jisung squawks and playfully slaps the other’s arm.
“Yah! That’s not what you say to the person you’re about to-” Jisung cuts himself off, blushing as he realizes what he was about to say.
Minho smirks, “About to…?”
Jisung turns his head away petulantly, causing Minho to burst out into a laugh.
“If you were going to say what I think you were, that’s not what we’re doing right now.”
Jisung furrows his brows. “Well duh, you’re driving. And as great as it sounds in books, road head is not safe,” Jisung mumbles.
Minho laughs harder, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to ask you to suck my dick while I’m driving.”
“Good,” Jisung says, his embarrassment catching up with him. “I mean… I’m not opposed to it later, though.”
Minho’s brow raises, but he keeps his eyes diligently on the road. “Oh? Later?”
Jisung pushes through the heat in his cheeks. “At your place.”
Minho smirks. “We’re not going to my place.”
Jisung’s face scrunches in confusion. “Then where… oh my god, please don’t be a mass murderer. You’re too handsome to hate.”
Minho bursts out laughing, pulling into the parking lot of the nearby convenience store. “I- um, thank you?” he manages through giggles.
Jisung pouts, not appreciating being laughed at.
Minho parks and finally turns to face him. Still grinning and laughing slightly, he takes Jisung’s hands into his own. “Jisung. I promise you I’m not some serial killer. Besides, you’re too cute to kill. If anything, I’d kidnap you and keep you in my apartment and you’d die from my incessant spoiling.”
Jisung blinks, and then promptly bursts into his own giggle fit. He feels his cheeks burning but finds he doesn’t mind. Minho’s looking at him like he’s something precious, so he has nothing to worry about.
It’s then that he notices where they are. “Uh… why are we in a convenience store parking lot?”
“Why do you think, Jisungie?” Minho’s eyes are full of mirth and mischief as he smiles.
Jisung narrows his eyes. “You’re messing with me!”
Minho chuckles. “Am not! We are here to get some snackies.”
Jisung lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Truth be told, he was half expecting Minho to propose car sex. Here. In the very public parking lot. Not that he’s against exhibitionism! He’d just rather not get the cops called on them.
Minho opens his door and motions for Jisung to stay put. He sits back and undoes his seatbelt, watching Minho circle the vehicle. The other opens the door for Jisung, and he huffs. “‘M not helpless, y’know.”
Minho grins at him, taking his hand once he hops out of the car. “I know. I just like helping.”
Cute , Jisung finds himself thinking.
They walk into the store, the clerk eyeing them as they wander the aisles. It’s late, so Jisung isn’t surprised at the scrutiny.
“What are you in the mood for?” Minho asks, turning to Jisung.
He looks around, seeing some bags of chips and pre-made kimbap. He points at the rolls, delighting when Minho nods and bends down to grab the food. Jisung shamelessly checks the other out.
They walk up to the counter, Minho wordlessly paying for both of their food. The clerk doesn’t say anything, just tiredly rings them up.
Food in hand, Minho leads Jisung back to his car, opening the door and helping him back in. Jisung immediately pulls out his kimbap and a pair of chopsticks, digging in as Minho turns the car back on.
“Jisungie~” Minho sing songs.
Jisung looks up, cheeks full of rice and filling. He makes a questioning noise, head tilting.
Minho coos and reaches forward, wiping a grain of rice from the corner of Jisung’s mouth. “Cute,” he says.
Jisung blushes and looks back to his food.
Minho reaches over and grabs his own rolls, gaze on Jisung. He swallows and meets it.
“What’s your favorite color?” Jisung blurts, the silence causing him to compensate.
Minho’s brows raise, a small smile gracing his plush lips. “Pink.”
Jisung blinks. “ Really ?”
Minho chuckles softly and nods. “A specific shade, though.”
Jisung motions for him to continue, but Minho just shakes his head, popping a roll in his mouth.
“What about you?” He asks after he swallows.
“Red. Or green. Or actually, maybe blue.”
“So, all colors?” Minho asks, amusement seeping into his tone.
Jisung sends him a playful glare. “Not all of them. Orange is horrid. So are certain shades of green. Now that I think about it, I really just like red and blue.”
Minho nods in understanding, smile never leaving his face. “Good choices. Any particular shades?”
Jisung shrugs, poking at his food with his chopsticks. “I dunno. Just really like those two. What’s that shade of pink you like?”
Minho huffs, “It’s cheesy.”
“That’s not a shade of pink.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Jisung feels his cheeks heat again, then groans at his own mistake. “Just tell me!”
Minho smirks, and Jisung gets the distinct feeling he won’t like his next words. “It’s the same shade as your cheeks right now.”
Jisung’s blush deepens. He brings his hands up to hide his face but is thwarted when Minho reaches out and grips onto the wrist closest to him. “Don’t hide your pretty face.”
Jisung closes his eyes and groans again. “You’re just teasing me again!”
Minho laughs, neither confirming nor denying.
Jisung huffs and fans his face. “Whatever.”
“What’s your dream in life?” Minho asks after a few moments, allowing Jisung to calm his face down.
The question makes him pause. It’s deep, not something a hookup would ask. And yet- “I’ve wanted to become a music producer ever since I was little.”
Minho hums, intrigued.
“Since I can remember, I’ve loved music. The beats, the lyrics, the voices… it all just draws me in. I used to write my own lyrics for fun, and I even learned the guitar! I was really on the road to going to school for music.”
Minho furrows his brows. “But you didn’t…?”
Jisung shakes his head. “My parents knocked some sense into me. They helped me realize it’s not a sustainable job and how competitive the field is.”
The other blinks rapidly. “But it’s your dream.”
It doesn’t sound like a question, but Jisung can tell Minho’s confused. “Yes. It was. If I ever get the chance to, I think I’d absolutely take it. But it’s unrealistic. Things like that – big breaks, I mean – just don’t happen to people like me.”
Minho nods his head, but it doesn’t seem like he completely understands.
“Well, what’s your dream?” Jisung asks, uncomfortable with the silence.
Minho takes a moment, mulling over his words. “Dancing.”
Jisung waits for him to elaborate, but it doesn’t come. “Are you gonna make me ask you to explain every time you answer a question?” He asks, exasperated.
Minho’s lips quirk into a smile and he nods.
Jisung sighs but plays along. “Alright. Dancing. What exactly does that mean?”
“It means I want to be a dancer.”
Jisung waits a beat, and sighs again. “Well? Did it happen?”
Minho nods. “Yes. I’m a professional dancer and have my own company.”
Jisung looks at him in awe. “What? That’s amazing!”
The other nods shyly, smiling to himself. “It took years of working at it, but two years or so ago I signed a lease and have a building and everything. My friend, the one I told you that dragged me to the club tonight, is the co-owner.”
“Okay, what the hell. That’s actually so cool.”
The other huffs in amusement. “It is, isn’t it?”
Normally, that would sound arrogant, but Minho says it like he himself still can’t believe it happened. It makes Jisung want to gather the man up into his arms and hug the life out of him. He settles for grabbing onto his hand instead.
“How’d that happen?”
Minho regales Jisung on the story of how he went to college to get his degree in dancing with a minor in business. How he met his friend, Hyunjin. How they performed together several times. How they’d worked both together and separately for a while after they’d graduated. How Minho was approached and given a grant to build his own company. How he’d made the most of the opportunity and landed himself a place in the big leagues.
Jisung listens intently, nodding and humming when appropriate, stamping down any jealousy he felt at the prospect of another person living out something so incredible – living out their dream .
After Minho finishes talking, Jisung sits back, reeling. “That’s unreal.”
Minho nods, “Yeah. I still don’t know how I managed to do any of it.”
He turns to Jisung and smiles, a precious thing that Jisung wants to kiss.
“I think you should go for your dreams, Jisung.”
It throws him for a loop. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Jisung sighs, instinctively bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes but remembering his makeup at the last second. “Because I don’t have a degree. Because I don’t have the contacts. Because I’m realistic. Because, because, because.” He lets his hands drop in frustration.
“What if you did have the contacts, though?”
Jisung looks over to see Minho staring intently at him. He closes his eyes and sighs out again. “I don’t know.”
Minho nods at that, accepting his answer.
“Wanna go to my place?”
It throws Jisung for a loop. They’d just been having a conversation about dreams and careers. He still wanted to hook up?
“Sure.”
The drive over isn't awkward, despite what Jisung expected. They don't talk, really, but Minho lets Jisung queue up any music he wants. He enjoys himself and indulges in the need to watch Minho as he drove. It's oddly attractive, the way he drives with both hands on the wheel and diligently watches the road despite the late hour.
They pull into a neighborhood of apartment complexes. There was a park, a coffee shop, and a gym situated nearby, easily accessible to the tenants.
“This is a nice neighborhood,” Jisung breaks the partial silence, looking around through the windows.
Minho hums, “That’s part of the reason I chose it. I don’t live with anyone, but I have my cats, so I needed something big enough for that.”
“What are their names?”
“Soonie, Doongie, and Dori.”
“Cute!”
They stand outside of Minho’s place, the door swinging in after Minho unlocks it. He ushers Jisung inside, pointing to where to put his shoes. Minho disappears into what Jisung assumes is the kitchen, saying he’d put their food in the fridge.
Jisung walks further inside, eyeing the couch. He flops down, leaning his head back and relaxes. Then a distinct mreow sounded near him.
He looks to his right, where an orange tabby cat lays next to him. Jisung carefully reaches out a hand, allowing it to sniff. Upon approval, Jisung begins scratching behind the cat’s ears, cooing when it butts its head into his hand.
“Soonie stealing the attention of my guest, why am I not surprised?” Minho speaks behind him. Jisung jumps a bit then looks up to see Minho pouting, arms crossed over his chest.
The other walks around the couch and scoops Soonie into his arms, the cat protesting slightly but butting his head into Minho’s jaw once he starts rubbing its belly. Jisung coos again, then startles when another tabby cat, this time brown, hops onto the couch next to him.
Minho laughs, nuzzling the orange one in his arms. “This one’s Soonie. That one’s Dori. Doongie’s around here somewhere, he’s less social.”
Jisung reaches out to Dori, who steps closer to him and flops down, presenting his belly.
“Careful there,” Minho murmurs, “It’s a trap. He’s just going to attack your hand if you touch his belly. Stroke along his back first, then when he’s relaxed go for the belly.”
Jisung follows the instructions and melts when Dori starts purring. “They’re so cute! What the heck!”
“Mhm. They’re little demons, but I love them.”
Jisung smiles up at Minho, who puts Soonie down and takes the seat next to Jisung, mindful of Dori’s tail. He pulled out his phone to show Jisung pictures of the elusive Doongie, arm brushing against Jisung’s. They spend a while cooing at the increasingly silly pictures of Minho and his cats.
Eventually, Minho clicks off his phone and relaxes back against the couch. Jisung watches as he sighs and gets comfortable, swallowing. It really shouldn’t be as attractive as it is.
Minho turns his head to look at him.
There’s a moment of them just taking one another in. He can’t stop the shiver that wracks through him when Minho’s gaze trails over his body. He’s about to speak when he’s overcome with a yawn.
Oh.
He’s exhausted.
He hasn’t gone out in a month and a half – longer, really. He never went out with Chaesol when they were together. It hits him how late it is, and then he mentally chastises himself for ruining the moment.
Minho chuckles, taking in a breath and getting up. “Let me take you home.”
Jisung cries out in protest immediately. He doesn’t want the night to end, even if he’s about to fall asleep. Seriously, how had he not realized how tired he was? Curse Minho for being so entertaining.
“I don’t wanna go home.”
Minho raises a brow. “Why not?”
He shrugs. “I’m having a good time.”
The other nods, thinking for a moment.
Suddenly, Minho reaches out a hand. “Up.”
Jisung stands immediately, letting the other lead him around by his wrist.
He takes them to the master ensuite. “Wash your face. There are makeup remover wipes in the cabinet – Hyunjin always forgets to bring his own, so I stay stocked up. There are toothbrushes under the sink, you can use my toothpaste. Is there anything else you use to get ready for bed?”
Jisung blinks at Minho, processing. “I don’t wanna go to bed-” he yawns again, “I wanna talk still.”
Minho raises a brow. “I think you want something else, darling.”
Jisung blushes, but doesn’t deny it.
The other laughs and shakes his head. He steps closer to Jisung, cupping his cheek and lifting his head a bit. “Not tonight, jagi.”
Jisung deflates, not even registering the nickname, then realizes, “But another time?”
Minho nods, smiling fondly.
“Okay, that’s fine then- not that it wouldn’t be if not! You don’t have to have sex with me, like– I don’t wanna pressure you or anything, that would be really shitty of me-”
“Jisung, you're not pressuring me. I promise. I wold love to bend you over the sink right now and fuck you stupid,” he waits a beat, letting the blush build on Jisung’s face, “but I think it would be best if we went to sleep right now.”
Jisung nods dazedly, his mind stuck on the image of Minho fulfilling the fantasy he’d planted in his mind.
The other huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s forehead. “Get cleaned up. I’m going to get some pajamas for us.”
Jisung removes his makeup, washes his face, and as he’s putting toothpaste on his toothbrush, Minho joins and does the same. It’s domestic enough that it catches Jisung off guard.
Walking into the bedroom, Minho points out the sleepwear he’d pulled out: a pair of boxers and a large shirt.
Jisung strips off his mesh top, but halts when Minho lets out an appreciative hum. He turns to find him leaning against his dresser, eyeing Jisung up and down. “Don’t stop on my account, darling~”
Jisung huffs and throws the balled up mesh top at the other. Minho laughs as he catches it, folding it and placing it onto the dresser beside him. Unfortunately, Jisung wouldn’t be able to watch Minho undress since he’d already changed.
He continues and ignores the choked sounds the other makes when he strips out of his pants and underwear, slipping on the fresh pair. He turns around and sees Minho’s ears slightly pinker than before. He counts it as a win.
“Should I go to the couch?” He asks, suddenly unsure of what the hell he’s doing.
Minho shakes his head and steps forward, grabbing Jisung’s wrist and leading him to the bed. He pulls back the covers on one side and gestures for him to get in. Jisung follows the order, getting comfy and pulling the fluffy blankets on top of himself.
Minho circles around to the other side, turning out the bedside lamp and crawling underneath the covers. He immediately grabs onto Jisung’s waist and manhandles him so he’s facing away and flush against Minho’s chest.
Jisung coughs, embarrassed and a bit turned on.
“Go to sleep, pretty. I’ll be here in the morning. I’ll make you breakfast in bed and after you eat we can do anything you want.”
Jisung smiles to himself. “Okay, I like that.”
“Good boy.” Minho murmurs into his neck, planting a kiss after. Jisung melts into the mattress and is out before he knows it.
When morning comes, Jisung’s sleeping peacefully. He’s more comfortable than he’s been in months with arms wrapped snugly around his waist and gentle, light breaths against the back of his neck. The bed is fluffy and soft, the duvet the perfect weight to not be suffocating. It’s amazing.
It’s wrong.
Jisung’s eyes snap open, and he takes in a deep breath, almost like he hadn’t been breathing. He stiffens when he feels the arms around him tighten, feeling trapped and confused about the situation.
He scrambles up and out of the other’s arms, rushing to the bathroom he sees across from him, closing the door in what he hopes is a gentle manner, not wanting to disturb anyone.
He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, then looks up in the mirror, expecting to see a mess in front of him. He can’t quite remember what happened.
He’s met with the normal pale expanse of his neck. No bites, marks, or bruises, not even a scratch or two. He flits his eyes up to look at his face and is shocked.
He knows he’s not at his own place, and he knows he didn’t bring makeup remover with him to the club. So how is his face clean and void of smeared makeup? Come to think of it, he’s not even sore anywhere.
It’s then that things come back to him. Dancing. Minho. Allergies. The convenience store. The food. Cats. Yawning. Brushing his teeth. Cuddling .
Jisung doesn’t know whether to be ecstatic that he hadn’t done anything stupid or annoyed that he hadn’t gotten any dick the night before.
“I wold love to bend you over the sink right now and fuck you stupid,” rings thorugh his head and suddenly he’s blushing.
It’s not like he’s a virgin, he’s had his fair share of partners, men and women alike. He’s done all the things, anything they had both been into and adventurous enough to try. Most of the time it turned out well, too! So, somebody saying something like that shouldn’t be flustering Jisung at all, and yet…
And yet.
Minho had been so sweet to him the night before. He wasn’t anything that Jisung had expected.
He was funny, he listened to Jisung, and he asked him questions. Sure, he was a little shit, making Jisung dig for details, but he didn’t do it to be mean. Honestly, it was probably to help the conversation keep going; to let Jisung gauge his comfort level with the other.
He didn’t have sex with Jisung, but he did give Jisung the best night out he’s had since… well, since he was first starting to go out with Chaesol.
And wasn’t that a weird thought. He’d thought he was happy throughout his relationship with her, thought he had everything he’d ever need and more! It’s disorienting to think about how unsatisfied he’d really been. It shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, considering all of the contemplating he’s been doing since the breakup, but sometimes these things just slapped him across the face.
He just needs to breathe.
Chaesol, as sweet as she was, was a bit self absorbed. Not like, to the point that she dismissed others, but it was apparent in some of the things she did. Jisung would ask her about work during dinner? She’d ramble about whatever problem went on that day for ten straight minutes. She would forget to ask Jisung about his own days at work, which normally didn’t bother him. His work was boring, and he rarely had any problems to talk about. It’s just nice to be asked sometimes, despite the predictable answer.
Chaesol complained about her shoulders aching? Jisung would grab the massage oil.
Chaesol wanted a mild meal for takeout? They got a level two spiciness, rather than Jisung’s favored four.
Chaesol wanted to go out with her friends? Jisung was woken up when she got home and made to help her get unready.
Honestly, nothing about it bothered him much! He just wanted some reciprocation every once in a while…
Jisung shakes his head, then strides forward and leans onto the sink. He looks into the mirror, noting every little thing he could, then splashes water on his face to wake himself more. He turns off the tap, grabs the hand towel, and roughly buries his face into it.
It smells like fucking bergamot.
After a good amount of time of Jisung just smelling every towel he could find in the bathroom – which was a lot, seriously, how does one person have so many damn towels? – to see if they all smelled as delicious as the first – spoiler alert, they do, he must use some sort of bergamot scented fabric softener – he gathers his courage and cracks open the door to look at the bed.
It’s empty.
Jisung suddenly isn’t sure if the opinion he’d formed about the other the night before was correct.
Shrugging, Jisung grabs the plush robe that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It’s magenta, for some reason, but it smells like almonds.
It would do.
Jisung gets out of his sleep clothes and raids Minho’s drawer for a pair of underwear, then shrugs on the robe – holy shit it’s so fucking soft – and ties it. He peeks out to the hall to see if Minho is perhaps out there but is instead jumpscared by a cat.
Really, the cat didn’t do anything. It just sat there cleaning its paws. The reason it scared him was that he wasn’t looking down, and so when he exited the room he tripped over the damn thing.
He lets out a yelp and falls to the floor in his attempt to not step on the cat’s tail, sacrificing himself in the name of all that is good and fluffy. The cat then proceeds to jump onto his corpse and deem his soft, lifeless, warm body an adequate place to nap.
Jisung will give it that. He is pretty damn soft right now.
Suddenly there are footsteps and Jisung has about two seconds before his hookup-but-not-a-hookup sees him lying on the floor in his own robe.
“Ji– sung…” The other trails off, then bursts into a laughing fit. It’s a beautiful sound, and Jisung wants to be the cause of it more often.
“I can’t move now. The cat has deemed me a place of slumber.” Jisung groans out onto the floor.
This just makes Minho laugh harder.
“Oh my god,” he manages, “Doongie what are you doing?”
Jisung perks up at that. He hadn’t gotten to meet the elusive Doongie the night before and really wants to turn over so that he can finally pet the animal.
Minho takes initiative and picks him – the cat, not Jisung, unfortunately – up. Jisung immediately scrambles to his feet so that he can smother the cat in an adequate number of kisses and pets, raising a hand so that Doongie can approve of his course of actions.
Upon approval, Jisung steals the cat from Minho’s arms and sits down right on the floor where he'd just gotten up and begins kissing and loving on the cat.
Jisung doesn’t notice Minho going into his bedroom to retrieve his phone. He does register the flash going off, though, and looks up to stick his tongue out.
Minho’s looking at him so fondly it actually makes Jisung freeze, which causes the cat to mrow annoyedly. Jisung continues what he’d been doing but at a more sedate pace, conscious of the other man watching him now.
“So, that’s Doongie.” Minho says, trying to break the silence.
Jiung nods and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He closes it. He feels awkward.
Minho sighs. “I’m making breakfast. Kimchi eggs. Do you want some?”
Minho smiles after Jisung perks up, standing up and following him with the cat in his arms still. Upon entering the kitchen/living room area, the scent of something cooking makes Jisung drool.
“Oh, and the kimbap is still in the fridge.”
Jisung’s stomach growls audibly at that, making him blush. Minho just grins and gets him a plate.
At the table, Minho asks if Jisung wants him to take him home.
Jisung chokes, then takes a sip of his too-hot coffee, making him choke more. When he finally recovers and looks up, Minho is looking at him with vague concern, blinking wildly.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” Jisung coughs one last time for good measure, then straightens his back. “You said last night that we could do whatever I wanted to this morning.”
Minho nods. “Yes, and that includes taking you home, if you so desire. I know it’s weird without the alcohol, and I know I look different without my makeup, so I understand if you just wanna go home-”
“You were wearing makeup?”
Jisung blinks in confusion, he doesn’t remember the other taking off any makeup.
Minho pauses, thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nah, you’re right. That’s weird, I usually do…”
Jisung giggles into his hand, “Well, I think if you do wear makeup I might combust. You’re already unfairly hot!”
Minho chuckles, but Jisung can see the way the tips of his ears are lighting up. “Says you,” he murmurs, then clears his throat. “By the way, the robe?”
Minho’s brow lifts in a silent question and Jisung immediately wraps his arms around himself defensively.
“It’s yours!”
“I know, that’s not what I’m asking,” he laughs.
Jisung blinks, “I saw it hanging up, and it’s soft, so I had to take it.”
Minho’s lips crack into a big smile, and he mutters “like a damn niffler or something," causing Jisung to crack into his own grin.
“Really? Harry potter?”
“Excuse me, that’s ‘Fantastic Beasts’ to you.” Minho scoffs playfully.
“Oh my god, I think I’m in love,” Jisung says, hands going up so one is against his forehead and the other resting over his heart. “The nerd has stolen my heart.”
“Hey, Newt Scamander and I have a lot in common!”
“If you say so, sweetheart.”
“Hold on,” Minho starts, face suddenly serious.
“To what?” Jisung quips.
“Have you ever seen the movies?”
Jisung’s eyes widen, “Uh, so, funny story actually-”
“You haven’t, have you?” Minho asks, a dark glint in his eye.
Jisung shakes his head. “This is going to be the start of your villain arc, isn’t it?” He says resignedly, slumping back into his chair.
Minho laughs then suddenly jumps up, a pretty grin practically splitting his face in two. “Yes. I’m kidnapping you now. I’m going to force you to watch the movies and then we will watch Harry Potter and make fun of Dumbledore, and I can geek out about all the animals.”
Jisung blinks a few times.
“Or you can go home and leave the nerd here to wallow in his shame.” Minho’s blushing bright red now, hands covering his face. “Sorry, I just get excited about that series.”
Jisung feels like his chest is going to burst. Seriously, this man has no right to be so completely adorable.
“Let’s watch the movies. It’s Saturday, so we have two days to finish!”
Minho looks up from between his hands, surprise written all over his features.
“...are you serious?”
Jisung smiles and nods. “Yeah. I’m serious. But only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”
Minho’s jaw drops and Jisung feels a giddy laugh bubbling up his throat. He doesn’t know why he said that, but it feels right. Minho’s made him feel so much in the last twelve or so hours they’ve known each other, and he thinks the man will be good for him.
Maybe it won’t last forever, but he thinks he wants to take the chance on this.
“You don’t even know me that well… are you sure?”
Jisung nods, feeling like everything is right in the world.
“I’d like to know you.”
“Then yes.”
Fin.