Archive of Our Own

Jisung and Minho had been roommates for a few months now.

It all started when Jisung finally moved out of his family’s house. He didn’t have much in his account—enough to scrape by, but not enough to comfortably live on his own. Still, the idea of independence, of something that was fully his, tugged at him hard enough to go apartment hunting anyway.

That’s how he ended up on Boddaramji Street, standing under the warm sunset glow as he looked up at a neat row of apartment buildings lined like storybook illustrations. It was too picturesque, too peaceful. The kind of place you imagine having a vacation home in. A break-from-reality street. It made him feel, briefly, like maybe things would be okay.

That small surge of hope pushed him to step inside one of the buildings.

The apartment he toured was… kind of perfect. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Open-plan living space filled with golden light. A kitchen that looked like it belonged in a cooking show, with shiny appliances and way too much storage. Two bedrooms, equal in size, both with cozy window nooks and built-in wardrobes. A sleek bathroom with a rainfall shower and a deep tub that made Jisung want to melt into it immediately. Plus, the building had a fitness center, a rooftop garden, 24/7 security—like, luxury luxury.

So obviously, he put in an offer.

And he got it.

The only problem? Rent.

Technically, he could afford it on his own… if he didn’t eat. And Jisung liked food too much to entertain that.

So, he texted his best friend, Lee Felix, as anyone in a slight panic would do.

Jisung:

Lixieeee

Felix:

Jisungieee

what’s up?

Jisung:

yk how i’ve been looking for an apartment?

Felix:

ya

Jisung:

well i got the apartment

but there’s a problem

Felix:

OMGG CONGRATSSSS

I CANT WAIT TO SEE THE PLACE

but whats the problem?

Jisung:

i don’t have enough funds to rent this out all by myself

unless i practically starve

Felix:

are u asking me to find u a roommate?

Jisung:

yes…

Felix:

well i do know somebody actually

he was my roommate before he needed to move out

Jisung:

oh?

do i know the guy?

Felix:

i doubt it

but he’s a good roommate

he might actually be a good one for u

Jisung:

why’d he move out?

Felix:

i can’t say bc it’s not my place

but nothing bad, nothing that would affect ur living

Jisung:

ah oki

could u reach out to him?

Felix:

ofccc

i’ll lyk what he says

Jisung:

what’s his name?

Felix:

lee minho

he’s two years older than you

Jisung:

pretty name

so i’ll have a hyung alright

thank u lix

And that was how it all started.

Minho, for his part, was just as desperate. Moving out of his old place had sounded like freedom at the time, but rent prices laughed in his face. He’d been living with his parents for a couple of weeks—commuting two towns over to work and slowly losing his sanity. So when Felix offered a potential living situation, it felt like fate.

“You’ll like him,” Felix had told him. “He’s chill. Little weird, but harmless.”

Minho had shrugged. “I can live with weird.”

He walked into the apartment a few days later, duffel bag over his shoulder, and found Jisung sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, trying to assemble a chair.

Jisung looked up—and forgot how to function.

Black tee. Gray sweatpants. Gym bag. Slightly damp hair. Muscles.

Minho smiled. “Hey. You must be Han Jisung.”

“Uh—yeah. Hi. You’re Lee Minho?”

“Yep.” He chuckles, “by the way. I’m you’re hyung.” He gives a playful wink.

“Oh - right.” Jisung gives a seated bow, completely forgetting, “Lee Minho-hyung…” He corrects himself.

That was it. Jisung was doomed.

The first few weeks were too easy. They agreed on the furniture, the decor, the vibe. Jisung just nodded along with everything Minho suggested, happy to go with the flow. Mostly because Minho had great taste. And also because Jisung was trying very hard not to look too closely every time Minho stretched or yawned or walked around shirtless like it was completely normal.

It was not normal. Not for Jisung’s fragile gay heart.

They were just friends. Roommates. That’s what he kept telling himself. It helped that Minho was… kind of oblivious. Either he was painfully straight or blissfully unaware. Or both.

But then the dreams started. That made Jisung’s ability to ‘remain cool’ even more difficult. 

It began with sleep-talking. Everyone knew Minho talked in his sleep—Felix had warned Jisung—but this was different. Not just harmless mumbling. Full conversations, muttered sentences that sounded scary. Some nights, Jisung heard Minho whimper in his sleep, low and broken, followed by silence so heavy it made his chest tighten.

The quiet of the apartment was only interrupted by the soft glow of Jisung’s phone screen. He had been scrolling for a while, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion, when a sound suddenly cut through the stillness. A half-finished scream—a strangled, desperate noise—ripped through the air. Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, and before he could think, he was up and rushing toward Minho’s bedroom.

Without a second thought, he pushed the door open.

There, sitting on the edge of his bed, was Minho. His wide eyes were unfocused, breathing coming in rapid, shallow gasps as though he had just run a marathon. The faint moonlight illuminated his disheveled hair and the sweat clinging to his forehead.

“Hyung—are you okay?” Jisung’s voice came out softer than he intended, his eyes lingering on the sight of Minho’s panicked expression. He immediately rushed over, his phone held up as a makeshift light, its harsh brightness painting Minho’s face in an eerie glow.

Minho blinked rapidly, his chest heaving with each breath. His eyes darted around the room in confusion. “Wh—what? Han-ah…” His hands pattered over the edge of the bed, as if trying to reassure himself that he was awake, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did I wake you?”

Jisung shook his head, still standing beside him, his voice shaking. “No, no… I’ve been awake. I heard you… scream—or something—and I rushed over.”

Minho swallowed hard, his hands gripping the sheets as he pulled them up to his chest, trying to compose himself. “I’m… I’m sorry. Just go back to bed, Jisung. I’m fine…”

“But you screamed, hyung,” Jisung insisted, concern creasing his forehead as he crouched down beside the bed, his gaze not leaving Minho’s.

Minho, still breathing heavily, shook his head and shifted beneath the covers, turning his back to Jisung. “I’m fine, really. Go to bed… please…” His voice was quieter now, tinged with something that sounded almost like shame.

Jisung hesitated, feeling the pull of exhaustion but also the weight of concern that settled in his chest. “Fine… but if you ever—if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Minho didn’t answer, the only sound in the room now the rustle of sheets. Jisung stood up and, after a long pause, lightly shut the door behind him. His feet dragged as he returned to his room, but the image of Minho’s unsettled expression lingered, making sleep feel distant.

The nightmares continued. Every night, Jisung could hear the muffled gasps, half-screams, and sharp thuds from across the hall. Minho would try to pretend he was fine, brushing Jisung off whenever he checked on him. But Jisung couldn’t ignore it anymore.

One morning, after another restless night of watching over his roommate, Jisung set his coffee down onto the table and watched Minho slump into the couch, flicking through channels absentmindedly. The tension in the air was thick, and Jisung couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Hyung,” he said, his voice steady but his eyes carrying the weight of his concern. “We need to talk.”

Minho glanced at him, his gaze half-hearted, still absorbed in the TV. “What’s up?” he asked casually, though the tightness in his shoulders gave him away.

Jisung sighed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “It’s been happening for a week straight, you know?” he said, his tone sharp as he locked eyes with Minho, refusing to let the topic slip away this time.

Minho’s expression faltered. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, clearly trying to avoid the subject. “Jisung,” he started, his voice tight, “I said…”

“No.” Jisung interrupted, his voice firmer than usual. “I want to know what’s going on. If we’re roommates, I can’t keep hearing you in distress in the hallway and pretend it’s nothing. It’s not nothing, hyung. Please just tell me.”

Minho met Jisung’s gaze, the weight of the truth hanging between them. He couldn’t run from it anymore. He had to tell him. His jaw tightened before he exhaled slowly, muting the TV.

“I… I get nightmares,” Minho began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though even saying the words would make them real again. “Night terrors, actually.”

Jisung blinked, startled by the confession. His body stiffened. “Nightmares?”

Minho nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah, they’ve been happening for a while now… It’s not… it’s not a big deal, I guess. I just don’t talk about it much.”

Jisung frowned, concern deepening. “Is this a… recent thing?”

“Not really,” Minho admitted. “They’ve come and gone for a while. They used to be better, though.”

“What helped?”

Minho hesitated, his eyes downcast. “I’ve had them before. My ex… they used to let me sleep in their room whenever it got bad. It helped.” He paused, looking away as if embarrassed. “But… I don’t really like talking about them.”

Jisung’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t know you had an ex…”

Minho shrugged, his gaze now avoiding Jisung’s. “Yeah, well… things didn’t end well. I don’t like bringing it up.”

There was a moment of silence before Jisung, feeling the weight of his own empathy, stood up. “You can sleep in my bed if you want,” he offered, almost too fast. “Like—not in a weird way! Just—if it helps. Friends do that. Sometimes. I think.”

Minho blinked, clearly taken aback. “What?”

Jisung smiled faintly, his usual teasing demeanor softened by his concern. “No, seriously. I’m not going to let you keep dealing with this alone.”

Minho sat still for a moment, his mind processing the offer. The vulnerability in his chest was still raw, but seeing Jisung’s sincere face made it easier to consider. “You’re… serious?”

“Yeah,” Jisung replied. “I don’t want you to be alone with this, hyung.”

Minho swallowed, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “Okay… thanks, Han-ah.”

Jisung gave him a small, reassuring smile. “Anytime, Minho-hyung. Anytime.”

And that was how Minho ended up in Jisung’s bed the first time—under the blankets, eyes already heavy with sleep, while Jisung lay stiffly beside him, wondering how he got here. 

He hadn’t expected it to feel like this. It was fine at first—just helping out his roommate, making sure Minho wasn’t alone with the nightmares. But now, with Minho so close, the warmth from his body next to Jisung’s was doing strange things to his heart. He had to keep it together. He couldn’t let Minho know he was anything but normal about all of this. He couldn’t risk it.

The first night passed without incident. Minho’s sleep talking didn’t phase Jisung. He’d grown used to it over the few months, but tonight, it seemed more subdued. Just a few mumbles here and there, things Jisung could easily tune out. The comfort of having Minho there was undeniable, even if it made his chest feel tight in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge. As much as he wanted to lean over and close the distance, he stayed on his side of the bed, wondering what the hell he was doing.

When the morning light peeked through the curtains, Minho seemed better—no sign of the distress he’d been showing the night before. It was a relief. Jisung smiled faintly, “Sleep okay?”

Minho blinked at him with that disoriented look he always had upon waking. “Yeah,” he muttered, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Better than I expected.”

After that, it became a new routine. They slept in the same bed every night. Jisung told himself it was just a temporary thing, nothing more, but every time he woke up with Minho lying next to him, his thoughts got more complicated. His crush on Minho—something he’d kept buried for so long—wasn’t making this any easier. He couldn’t act like he was feeling anything more than the fact that Minho was his roommate and friend. But the closer they got, the harder it became to ignore that tightening in his chest whenever Minho brushed against him in the night, the subtle way Minho’s presence filled the space around him.

It was fine—he kept telling himself that. It was fine until one night, when Jisung woke up in the middle of the night to find Minho gone. 

Jisung was pulled from his sleep by a scream that sliced through the night. His heart immediately raced as he blinked in confusion, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. His bed felt colder, and for a split second, he thought maybe it had just been a dream. But then, he realized the bed beside him was empty.

Without thinking, Jisung shot up, his feet hitting the cold floor as he rushed out of his room. The echo of Minho’s scream still rattled in his chest. He followed the sound to Minho’s room and pushed the door open without a second thought.

Minho was sitting up in bed, eyes wide and glazed, drenched in cold sweat. His breathing was heavy and erratic, like he’d just run a marathon. Jisung froze for a moment, watching him, his chest tightening with concern.

“Hyung?” Jisung called softly, his voice shaky as he stepped into the room. His eyes flicked to the empty bed, his worry growing. “Why did you leave?”

Minho blinked, disoriented, his gaze slowly focusing on Jisung. “I… I didn’t want to wake you,” he muttered, his voice weak and hoarse.

Jisung’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, and he took a hesitant step closer. “Hyung…” His voice was softer now, laced with concern, “Come back to bed. Please..” The words tumbled out before he could stop them, his fear slipping into his tone.

Minho looked down at his hands, fidgeting nervously. “I just… I thought maybe it would be easier if I went back to my room…”

Jisung shook his head, stepping closer until he was right beside the bed. “Please… just stay with me. You don’t need to go back here.” His voice wavered slightly, the last thing he wanted was for Minho to feel like he had to push him away. “I don’t want you to be scared by yourself, hyung…- you know sharing the bed helps the nightmares… so why-?”

“I thought I’d be okay now… I don’t know…” Minho shrugs, refusing to meet Jisung in the eye. 

“Well - now we know, you’re not so….” Jisung grabs Minho’s hands and squeezes them, stopping his fidgeting. “Come back to bed… yeah?” His eyes are sweet, even in the dark of the night, Minho can tell he is looking at him in such a manner. 

Minho is silent for a moment. The vulnerability in Jisung’s eyes was something Minho hadn’t expected, and it made his chest tighten. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but the words never came. Instead, he let out a soft sigh, too tired to argue.

Without saying anything more, Jisung gently guided him back to bed, wrapping the blankets around them both. He stayed close, his body tense with the need to make sure Minho was okay, to keep him safe from the nightmare that had shaken him.

Jisung’s hand found its way to Minho’s, his fingers brushing lightly over his knuckles, a silent offering of comfort. “Stay,” he murmured again, his voice a little more than a whisper, as if he was afraid of breaking the fragile peace between them.

Minho didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away either. He let Jisung hold onto him, the tension slowly bleeding out of his body, and for the first time since the nightmare began, he felt a little bit of calm seep in.

• • • • • •

It’s been a few weeks now since Minho started staying in Jisung’s bed, and things had settled into an odd, comforting routine. Jisung had become more attuned to Minho’s sleep talking—those murmured, half-formed sentences that slipped out in the quiet of the night. At first, it was just random nonsense, but the more he paid attention, the more he realized it wasn’t just random. It was a peek into Minho’s mind—his fears, his anxieties, his little off-hand remarks that Jisung never got to hear during the day.

The only reason he began to pay attention to Minho’s sleep talks was because of a conversation him and Felix had recently when he wanted to check up.

“You know I used to share a room with him? The other two would have their room.” Felix says over the phone, reminiscing about his old roommate, “Minho-hyung’s sleep talking was something else…”

Jisung laughs, “I didn’t know you roomed with him! - I assumed you each had your own space.” He places a hand over his eyes with a smile, amused. “What is some shit he’d sleep talk with you?”

Felix hums, thinking for a moment. “Hmm - ah - I remember he once threatened me over chicken. It was chopped but it was like, ‘chicken .. cut .. damn it Felix … die.’ and I never felt fear more than the next time I cooked chicken for dinner.” He can’t help but laugh. 

“Oh gosh yeah - he speaks in one word with pauses.” Jisung laughs, “literally last night he said ‘Soonie… Dori.. Doongie… yay.’ and I just looked at him trying not to laugh.” 

“Wait wait I got a good one.” Felix clears his throat. “There was these few times where he’d just curse and go silent - right back to snoring. Like he once yelled ‘fucking bitch’ with furrowed brows, fidgeting too, and then snored and didn’t move after that.” Felix can be heard shaking his head across the phone, “I swear he always had beef with some opp in his dreams.”

Jisung laughs. “Sounds like Minho-hyung. I mean, I hear this shit practically in my ear so I get it.” He sighs, “I honestly tune him out, but there’s times I decide to listen in or it’s unavoidable.

Felix raises a brow. “Is he so loud that he’s practically in your ear?” His Australian accent shines through as he grows in question. 

“Oh nah nah - he’s sharing a bed with me, in my room.” Jisung explains, trying to make this situation seem casual - though it’s not.

“You’re sharing a bed?? Han Jisung are you two….?” Felix starts to instigate and stir the pot of the nonexistent meal.

Jisung rolls his eyes and scoffs. “What? No! I wish- but- no no we aren’t.” He sighs.

Felix suddenly snaps his fingers. “Oh-! Wait- is he getting nightmares again?” 

“Yeah, he is. We found out he’s been getting them, he explained to me about the ex thing - sharing a bed - helped him. So I did that for him, as friends… of course.” Jisung says, sounding disappointed at the end of that statement. 

Felix sighs, a mix of relief and nostalgia. “Ahh yeah, I remember when Seungmin would barely get any sleep when Minho-hyung would get his nightmares because he was scared hyung wake up scared and he wouldn’t be awake to help.” 

Jisung pauses for a moment, “Wait… Seungmin?” He asks, dumbfounded and almost at a loss for words. 

“Yeah… Seungminnie - wait - did Minho-hyung ever tell you who his ex was?”

“I mean… I kinda just assumed it was this girl who came over sometimes or something…” Jisung speaks, rethinking his entire roommate situation. 

Felix chuckles on the other end of the phone. “Ohh Jisung-hyung, baby, you are so blind.” His visible shock and disbelief is clearly heard through the speaker.

Jisung scoffs, soon turning into a whine as he tries to defend himself. “He doesn’t look gay though!”  

“You may want to look again. Jisung-hyung…” Felix says, his tone clearly judgmental this time.

“Oh trust me - I’ve been looking.” 

Felix rolls his eyes. “You’re actually so gay and stupid that you can’t even tell that one of your own is sleeping in your bed.” 

“Oh shut up - you’re acting like you’re not dating a man.” Jisung begins to get defensive, reflecting the mirror back to his best friend. 

“I will never deny the fact me and Hyunjin are dating - but anyways! You get what I mean though.” Felix brushes him off. “I think it’s damn near obvious he’s into men.” 

Jisung groans. “So that’s why he moved out… and doesn’t want to talk about his ex…” He sighs, placing his palm against his heated forehead from the news. 

“Yeah, it was a rough breakup.” Felix says, remembering being a witness of the falling out of the two exes.

“Hey.. what happened, anyways?” Jisung asks, rolling his shoulders back out of curiosity. 

Felix shakes his head. “It’s not my place to tell. You should ask hyung yourself. But I’ll just say… I think it was a good thing they ended things.” He sighs, feeling a weight press against his shoulders as the memories come back. 

Jisung just nods his head. “Ah… well,” he pauses for a moment as he lets the silence linger for a bit longer. “Thank you for telling me Lix. I’m gonna go now, Minho-hyung is going to be back soon.” 

“Of course, Ji.” Felix says while nodding his head, “you should maybe talk to him about it when he settles back. Get it out of the way now.” 

“Maybe… I’ll see.” Jisung adjusts himself on the living room couch, “talk to you later, Lixie.” He says his goodbyes.

“Bye bye Sungieee.” Felix says, hanging up on his end. 

• • • • • •

It’s been a few hours since Minho has gotten home from the gym. The sun has already set, the night stars shedding light through their blinds as they sit on the couch together. Jisung sits with his legs criss-crossed on top of the couch, pretending to be busy on the phone as Minho sits on the other end, hair damp from the shower, and his bare face glistening in the moonlight. It’s quiet and the low volume of the television is audible. The occasional clearing of throats and sniffles are exchanged between the roommates. It’s a simple night. 

Two empty bowls are set on the wooden table in front of them, as they just finished dinner that Minho cooked before jumping into the shower; wanting to get out the scent of meat in his hair. 

Jisung is biting his tongue, trying to get the courage to pop the question about Minho’s ex. Not wanting to cross boundaries, but also the anticipation of killing him. What do you mean the man he had googley-heart eyes for dated a man in the past? That he, in fact, was not straight. Does this validate Jisung’s feelings for once? That beating heart in his chest can finally race without the worry that he does not swing that way. 

“Han-ah~ everything okay?” The sweet melodic voice of Lee Minho speaks, his eyes shooting over to the shifty younger on the other end of the couch. 

Jisung jumps out of his head and snaps his head towards the voice. “Oh - yeah! I’m okay - just… thinking…” He bullshits, scratching the back of his neck. 

Minho can’t help but chuckle and run his fingers through his slowly-but-surely drying hair. “Thinking about what?” Raising a brow at the suspicious quokka, scooting closer to his opposing end.

Heartbeat begins to quicken. Cheeks begin to flush bright red. Eyes twitch to a widened state. Lips fight to perk into a nervous smile. Breath hitches slightly. 

Jisung chuckles nervously, glancing side to side as he tries to think of something quick. He doesn’t feel ready to ask the burning question yet. No, not yet. “Oh well… I was kinda just…”

A small playful smirk forms against Minho’s lips, his eyes slanting down. It’s his classic mischievous look whenever he gets on Jisung's nerves. Pushing his buttons all the time. And Jisung always lets him push his buttons. Because he can’t help it. And this time… it’s the same thing.

Fuck it.

“What happened between you and your ex?” Jisung blurts out, the words tumbling past his lips before he can stop them.

As soon as he hears himself, he freezes, eyes wide. “Shit—sorry, hyung,” he stammers, his hands flying up to his mouth like he could shove the question back in. “I shouldn’t have asked that…”

The question hits Minho like a punch to the chest. His entire body goes still. His soft features stiffen, eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief, lips parting as if to speak but nothing comes out. A faint flush creeps up his neck, painting his ears and jaw a deep shade of red.

Ten seconds pass—Jisung counts them in his head. Then, finally, Minho exhales through his nose, the sound sharp in the heavy silence between them.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Jisung tries again, reaching out on instinct to clasp Minho’s hand in both of his. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Why the fuck do you want to know about that?” Minho cuts in, voice low and cold. The warmth drains from his hand, and Jisung can feel it—can feel him retreat.

He flinches and pulls his hands back slowly, like he’s touched something scalding. “I-I was talking with Felix and—”

Minho groans, slumping back against the couch. His head falls against the cushion behind him as he stares up at the ceiling, brows knit in irritation. “Why were you guys even talking about that?” he mutters, eyes shut tight. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“That’s why I’m asking,” Jisung says quickly, then slows himself down. “Felix just wanted to catch up, and it came up. We talked about… the sleep-talking. And your nightmares. And, you know… sharing a bed and…” He trails off, heat rising to his face as the words hang awkwardly in the air.

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, the tension in his shoulders sharp and defensive. He tilts his head to the side, finally glancing over at Jisung. “So, you found out I dated my old roommate,” he says flatly, a bitter scoff curling under his breath. “Congrats.”

Jisung nods slowly, anxiety chewing at his chest. “Y-yeah… I did. But Felix didn’t tell me much, I swear. He just said… if I was curious, I should hear it from you.”

He fiddles with his fingers now, eyes flickering down, avoiding Minho’s gaze. The air feels heavier than before, and Minho can practically see the nerves unraveling across Jisung’s posture—shoulders slightly hunched, his foot tapping against the carpet without rhythm.

Minho exhales again, slower this time. And despite the tension in his jaw, his expression softens, just a fraction. He watches Jisung for a moment longer before finally speaking.

“Seungmin and I dated for three years,” he says, voice quieter now but still laced with leftover bitterness. 

Jisung hears this voice after his ears ringing, head perking up as he stops fiddling with his fingers. His boba eyes widen and his ears tune in completely. It is clear Minho got his attention, so he continues. 

“We started dating while being roommates already. We just started hanging out more often, and to put it simply, we felt attraction so we started going out.” Minho clears his throat, holding his own hand as he squeezes it tightly, “it was a fun relationship but…” His eyes trail up to Jisung’s attentive eyes.

“We started fighting, like any couple does… but it got really heavy and more consistent when we decided to pursue a music career together.” He continues. 

Jisung raises a brow. “You had a music career?” He asks, intrigued.

Minho chuckles at this curiosity. “Yeah, I did. Basically - Seungmin and I both are really good vocalists, and we wanted to start writing and producing music.” He clears his throat, “we always were found making up melodies and lyrics, but never did anything with them.” 

Jisung nods his head. “That’s really cool… but, continue.” He gives a warm smile, scooting closer to Minho. 

“Well, it was… going.” Minho lets out a slow breath. “To be honest with you - we did not make it far at all. We got a few gigs at bars and small clubs, but that’s all we got to.” 

“It was… really depressing, to be honest. We had such passion for music and singing, but nobody seemed to want to listen.” Minho explains, his eyes begin to soften, his shoulders relaxing as he sinks into the couch. “I think after a year, we started to give up. We weren’t moving anywhere, and things just weren't looking good.” 

“I’m… sorry hyung.” Jisung whispers.

Minho shakes his head with a pity smile. “It’s alright - but uhm..” He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders back. “this is often where the fights were. Because we weren’t getting anywhere, and we felt like we tried so much - it got us both frustrated.”

“I was so passionate and kept telling Seungmin that we could get through this, just a little longer, we haven’t even hit a year yet. We will get signed, we’ll get our prime.” Minho gives a small smile at the memory, “I was so excited for us, ya know?” 

But then his expression turns dark after a small fond moment. “But, Seungmin… shit he was - totally losing it.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “he didn’t understand why we weren’t making progress, he felt frustrated, and he blamed this on me - well, more like threw his anger onto me - which caused me to be upset too.” 

Jisung just nods along.

“Yeah,” Minho murmurs. “It started weighing on us. On him especially. He stopped believing in it sooner than I did. Started picking at everything—our writing, our performances, even how we arranged verses.” He pauses. “We were arguing almost every night. Over lyrics, harmonies, things that used to make us feel connected.”

There’s a pause. Jisung doesn’t dare break it.

“It got to the point where Seungmin and I were driving home from a gig out of town. This was our last one - by the way…” Minho glances at the attentive Jisung beside him, “our car actually ended up getting stuck in the fucking dirt. It was raining all day and we had to take a detour, and the stupid car got stuck. The tire skidded out and shit.”

“Anyways - we ended up having to squat at this nearby cabin because we couldn’t get our car towed and a ride back to the apartment till the morning.” Minho frowns at the memory, “the services were back up the following morning so…” He fiddles with his fingers. 

Jisung winces. “That’s shitty - it should’ve been a 24/7 service.” 

Minho laughs. “That’s what I said.” He sighs, “anyways… that night in the cabin was when Seungmin finally told me he wanted to quit the music career with me. He said he doesn’t see this going anywhere and thinks we should just take a different route.” 

“I fought him about this, of course. I wasn’t ready to give up. I still saw us getting far in a few months.. hopefully.. but he looked at me - with these eyes that just… he looked so tired.” Minho sighs, his eyes dropping a bit. “And I just shut up and agreed. I saw it in his eyes. He didn’t enjoy it anymore…he was tired - it short lived but definitely overpowered us a lot.” 

“We talked for a bit about it, and before we slept that night I remember him turning over to me in bed saying ‘even though we won’t be performing, know I’ll always sing with you ’ and that stuck with me.” Minho continues, “and I teased him saying ‘ I’ll be waiting for that duet’ and we fell asleep.” 

Jisung nods, “That doesn’t sound… too bad. Where did the whole…” His voice trails off.

Minho chuckles while nodding his head. “Boutta get to it.” 

Minho clears his throat, steadying his breath like he needs to brace himself before speaking again.

“Some time passed. We were still dating, still living together… but something started to feel off,” he says, his voice low. “Seungmin started coming home at these freakishly late hours. Always had some lame excuse ready—something about traffic, a last-minute errand, whatever. But I could tell they were just that. Excuses.”

He scoffs, shaking his head with a bitter laugh.

“No—he wasn’t cheating,” Minho adds quickly, his jaw tightening. “But… Felix and Jeongin eventually told me he’d made a new friend at some open mic bar. They’d been hanging out more and more, and I hadn’t even heard a word about it.”

Minho pauses, rubs at the back of his neck like the memory’s itching under his skin. “Turns out the guy was a rapper,” he continues, his voice growing colder with every word. “And apparently, they started making music together.”

There’s a sharp edge to his tone now, barely contained.

“And the worst part? I had no fucking clue,” he mutters, bitter disbelief dripping from every syllable. His lips curl into a humorless smile as he leans back, arms folded across his chest.

“I mean, sure—we’d already stopped doing music together, right? That was supposed to be done.” Minho’s voice cracks a little as he scoffs again, looking down at his hands like they’re covered in something he can’t scrub off. “But I found out that he used our songs, Ji. The ones we sat on the kitchen floor writing. The ones we hummed into our phones at 3 a.m. because we were afraid we’d forget the tune by morning. Just—cut them up. Turned them into something else.”

Jisung stays quiet, his gaze fixed on Minho, not daring to interrupt. His stomach twists at the rawness in Minho’s tone, like every word is being pried from somewhere he’d tried to bury deep.

Minho leans back into the couch, head resting against the top cushion, eyes on the ceiling like it’s easier to stare at something blank than face Jisung’s expression. “You remember what I said about that night? The cabin?”

Jisung nods, slowly.

Minho exhales hard through his nose. “That was the night we said we’d stop. Said we’d move on. And I accepted it. Because he was tired. Because I loved him.” His lips press into a tight line. “But not even a month later, he’s up on some shitty stage with a new partner, using our shit, acting like it was never ours to begin with.”

His voice drops, almost a whisper now. “That’s what really got me. Not that he moved on with someone else musically. Like it was easy. Like I was the only part he wanted to cut out.”

The silence in the room thickens. Jisung swears he can hear the refrigerator humming from the kitchen.

“I didn’t confront him right away. I waited. Give him chances to bring it up himself.” Minho chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. “But he didn’t. And when I finally did say something, we just… exploded. It was like everything we held back during all those years came out at once. Every fight we ever had just folded on top of each other.”

Minho’s voice cracks this time for real, the weariness finally catching up to him. “I didn’t even pack my things right. Just left one night to my parents. Told Jeongin I was done. Felix told  me about a new place.” He pauses. “Then I moved in with you.”

Jisung’s heart aches with the weight of it all. He didn’t know what answer he expected when he asked, but it definitely wasn’t this. Not this kind of pain dressed up in old memories.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to push you to say all that.”

Minho doesn’t respond right away. Just runs a hand through his hair and lets his head fall to the side to finally meet Jisung’s eyes. “You didn’t push. I just… I haven’t told anyone all of that. Not like this.”

Jisung nods and lets the silence settle again before gently asking, “Do you still… Think about him? Like that?”

Minho considers that, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Not really. Not in the way I used to. It’s more like… remembering someone you used to know really well but can’t talk to anymore. And sometimes, when I catch myself humming an old melody, it hurts in this annoying, hollow kind of way.” He sighs. “But I don’t miss him. Not anymore.”

That admission seems to lift something from his shoulders. He sits up straighter, though his body still slumps with exhaustion.

Jisung watches him, carefully, and then—without really thinking—he reaches out, this time slower, more intentional, and gently places his hand over Minho’s.

“I’m glad you told me,” he murmurs. “I know it probably didn’t feel good, but… I’m here. For whatever it’s worth.”

Minho doesn’t say anything, but his thumb moves, just slightly, brushing over Jisung’s fingers in a slow back-and-forth motion. A silent thank you, maybe. Or something else entirely.

Jisung’s cheeks flush, but he doesn’t pull away this time. He just stays there, hand in Minho’s, sitting in the quiet space between vulnerability and something beginning to bloom.

“It’s getting late.. you want to head to bed?” Jisung asks, leaning forward towards the table to grab the dirty dishes. 

Minho snaps out of the haze and nods his head. “Yeah… that’d be nice.” He gives a tired sigh, watching Jisung grab the dishes and walk over to the kitchen sink, running them with water and letting them soak inside. That’s a problem for tomorrow. 

Forcing himself off the couch, Minho groans and shuts off the television and stretches his arms in the air. He yawns and stumbles to the bathroom, washing up, the usual routine. Soon after he exits, Jisung stumbles inside for his turn to wash up as Minho changes in his room into his sleeping wear. 

After both roommates are washed up and changed, they sink into Jisung’s bed. They lay there in silence, both their eyes shut with their back facing the other, trying to fall asleep. The usual routine. 

But this night feels different. Minho feels like he can’t just sleep beside Jisung, he feels so vulnerable and sleeping with such distance is worsening his heart. A nightmare could arise simply from this, and they do this all the time. 

The reliving of his breakup with Seungmin lingers in his brain. 

Like a mind reader, Jisung shifts from his side of the bed and scoots closer to Minho without a word. The older feels a nudge against his back, soon turning to see an open embrace from Jisung. 

Minho raises a brow at Jisung, glancing at his open arms the sudden closeness of the two. Jisung tilts his head with a ‘don’t pretend you’re confused’ expression, flicking his fingers towards himself as he keeps his arms open. 

“I don’t-“ Minho speaks, flinching back a bit at the realization clicking in his head.

Jisung groans while rolling his eyes, then grabs ahold of Minho from behind his back and head, pulling him close into his embrace. Gently placing Minho’s head against his chest and wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. “Yes… you do.” He whispers gently, rubbing Minho’s back slowly as he matches his breathing pattern,

Without another word, Minho finds his eyes feeling heavier and his breath slowing down. Jisung feels his body finally relaxed and sinks into the deep sleep he had needed all day. He feels a grip on his shirt, seeing that Minho has taken a handful of it, pulling himself closer and sinking his face right into his chest. Jisung chuckles at the action, soon finding himself falling asleep right after.

That night, Minho did not sleep talk at all. Nor did he get any nightmares. Just enveloped in the warmth and safeness of Jisung’s arms wrapped around him, knowing that his past does not need to linger in his head any longer. 

• • • • • •

It wasn’t the warmth of the sun beaming through Jisung’s bedroom window that woke him up, but rather the coldness of the empty space beside him in bed. Jisung groans as he turns over to his eyes facing a bare back. His eyes focus up, seeing the tousled brown hair tickling the back of the figure's neck. Jisung knows this figure well. 

“Good morning.” Jisung says, rubbing his eyes as he sees the bare back straighten up by the sudden voice behind him.

Minho, who seems to be preoccupied with something, speaks in an emotionless manner. “Morning.”

Jisung is aware that Minho isn’t the most morning person, but this beginning-of-the-day greeting is very off. The fact he won’t even turn around and face him to say it, there is something going on for sure. 

“Everything… okay?” Jisung pokes the older in the arm, still remaining cuddled underneath the blanket.

“Mhm.” Minho slightly nods his head, his body still facing away and unresponsive to the touch. 

Jisung rolls his eyes and sits up in bed. “Oh - so we’re lying now?” He speaks in a sarcastic tone, his brown hair falling over his eyes as he shakes his head side to side from the bed head.

“I’m okay, Jisung.” Minho says, pushing off his hand against the mattress and spinning around to finally face Jisung beside him. 

“Nu uh, talk to me.” Jisung scrunches his nose and shakes his head, “we’ve been sharing a bed for too long for you to fake your feelings in front of me.” 

Minho, curling his knees up to his chest, his loose gray shorts the only thing he wears as he wraps his arms around his legs and rests his cheek against the top of his knees. “I… I did something stupid.” 

Jisung scoots closer and lowers his head, trying to catch Minho’s avoiding eyes. “What did you do?” His eyes soften as he watches Minho stumble to grab his phone from beside him, unlocking it in front of Jisung. 

The bright screen immediately opens to the app Minho was previously scrolling through. Pink outlined profiles sitting on the top, big square images of people’s posts displayed right in the middle. Minho’s thumbs move around the screen, clicking the search bar at the bottom, then letting the ‘recently searched’ pop up. A twitch in his lip is seen when his eyes meet the letters screaming in front of him. A huff is heard from him after 10 seconds, then finally speaking.

“I unblocked him - looked at his account.” Minho speaks in short sentences, as if he’s ashamed of what he did, not wanting to delve any deeper.

Jisung blinks for a moment. “Who did - oh shit -“ He connects the dots on his own, “you dumbass, why the hell did you do that?” 

Minho scoffs, but it’s pitiful. He tries to hold it together, brush it off his shoulder, and act tough in this situation. But it fails. Lee Minho cracks. That small tick of his lip shivers downwards, sucking in his lip to try to keep himself together. His arms grip around his legs even tighter as he rocks slowly back and forth in this feel position. His soft eyebrows bend upwards in the corners as the brim of his eyes begin to water. Minho’s breath hitches and gets caught as he tries to swallow the built up saliva in his mouth. He feels his heart rate pick up as his vision grows blurry, taken up by the tears flowing down his flustered cheeks. 

“Last night…” Minho’s voice cracks as he forces out words, “was a lot… remembering it all - feeling it all.” He chokes between his words, coughing as his tears shoot from his eyes heavier than before. 

Jisung remains silent, but inches closer as he watches Minho break down into tears. Hearing his voice in such a fragile and weak state only makes his heart ache. Jisung rarely gets to see his roommate in this state, and when he does, it really shows the impact. 

“I… I just acted and - I feel so fucking stupid.” Minho mutters, his nose interrupting his sentence as he sniffles heavily. 

“Give me your stupid phone.” Jisung quickly leans forward, grabbing the phone in his hand, and tapping away with aggression on the screen. “There. Back to being blocked and removed from search. Don’t do that shit again, hyung.” Jisung curses, his eyebrows furrowing at the timid Minho.

Minho remains silent about Jisung’s scolding. He just gives a tiny nod, his eyes averting and zoning out to the side. “Why did he do that to me…” Minho mutters, his lips turning into a soft pout.

“I don’t know, but stop thinking about it… about him.” Jisung says, shutting off the phone and hiding it away underneath the pillows. 

“He was my everything…” 

“Hyung.”

“We spent so much time together. We did so much together. Sometimes it’s hard to do anything that we used to do together - on my own because it just reminds me of…. him.” Minho struggles to keep his sentences connected between his sobs interrupting. 

“Hyung…” Jisung says again, but a bit louder.

“Why did he fall out of harmony with me? What did I do?” Minho’s voice cracks more and increases in volume, almost like he’s growing in frustration as he continues to question it all over.

“Minho-hyung..” Jisung grows more formal.

Minho sniffles. “Maybe if I tried harder-“

“Lee Minho.”

The casual language snaps Minho out of his mind. His ears ringing zooms back into function and his tears freeze momentarily. Minho’s watery eyes slowly shift and look at a furrow-browed Jisung in front of him. His hands in tight fists pressed against his thighs as he stares into his soul. 

Minho remains silent.

“Finally.” Jisung breathed a breath of relief, scooting even closer to Minho as he grabbed a box of tissues from the side table and placed it between the two. He grabs one and folds it over his finger, gently dabbing it against Minho’s tear stained cheeks, drying them away. 

Their eyes connect. The world becomes silent. Only the sounds of their hearts beating can be heard, the electricity between them only grows and magnetizes them to one another. Jisung can’t take his eyes off Minho as he trails the tissue up and pats the edges of his eyes, feeling the tears drip onto the tissue. Minho can’t take his eyes off Jisung as he feels his warm touch against his face, treating him so gently and softly, feeling his tears slow down as Jisung comes closer to him.

Jisung’s voice is quieter now, like he can’t believe Minho actually said it. “Are you—Are you serious right now?”

Minho doesn’t look at him. His eyes stay fixed somewhere on the floor, like if he just ignores the conversation long enough, it’ll pass. Jisung doesn’t let it.

“Hyung,” he says, voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him. “You’re—God, do you even realize how amazing you are? Like, actually?”

Minho sighs, lips pressing into a thin line. “Jisung—”

“No, just—just listen.” Jisung puts the tissue down. “Do you remember when I had that stupid breakdown when I was trying to write a song? I had such a bad writer's block - I wouldn’t even come out of my room. You sat outside my door for hours. I didn’t even have to say anything, you just—stayed there. And then when I finally opened the door, you acted like it was the most normal thing in the world. Just threw me a bag of snacks and told me to stop being dramatic.” 

A small, breathy laugh escapes Minho, but it’s shaky. 

“But I knew what you were doing. You knew exactly what I needed, and you never made me feel bad for it.”

Minho’s expression softens, but he doesn’t say anything. Jisung keeps going.

“Or—or that time I got sick, and I tried to play it off, but you could tell the second you walked through the door. You didn’t even let me argue about it. You shoved me onto the couch, wrapped me in that stupid dinosaur blanket, and made me drink, like, a gallon of that gross ginger tea.”

Minho scoffs, rolling his eyes. “It wasn’t gross.”

“Yes, it was.” Jisung huffs out a laugh, but his throat tightens again. His next words come quieter. “And when I got homesick around the holidays, you didn’t just ignore it. You found that one bakery downtown, the one that made those cookies that taste exactly like my mom’s. You even let me blast Christmas music for a whole week, even though you said it made you want to throw up.”

Minho’s lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile.

Jisung exhales, forcing himself to meet Minho’s gaze. “You may think you didn’t deserve Seungmin , but hyung, you deserve everything. He didn’t deserve you. And if he - if anyone - makes you feel like you don’t, then screw them, okay?” His voice wavers, but he pushes through. “You are the best person I know. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. I’d - I’d sell the world just to keep you as my roommate, and I mean that.”

Minho is staring at him now, like he’s seeing Jisung in a way he never has before. Like he’s searching for a single crack, some sign that Jisung is just saying things to make him feel better.

Jisung doesn’t look away.

After what feels like forever, Minho finally speaks, voice quieter than before. “Do you really mean that?”

Jisung swallows past the lump in his throat. “Yeah. I do.”

Minho’s shoulders drop slightly, like he’s been holding onto something he didn’t realize was weighing him down. He lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, shaking his head.

“Thanks, Sungie.” It’s so soft, almost like he doesn’t know what to do with the words.

Jisung exhales, his heart still hammering against his ribs. He lets himself smile. “Anytime, hyung.”

Now that Minho feels a bit lighter, he begins to talk a bit more. “Oh - I’ve been meaning to tell you but…” he clears his throat, “thank you for letting me share a bed with you - helping me with my nightmares.” He says, his voice growing timid and bit flustered.

“It’s no problem.” Jisung chuckles lightly.

“You know… towards the end of our relationship, Seungmin wouldn’t hold me anymore… gosh - should’ve seen the signs.” Minho shakes his head as he rubs the side of his arm. 

“Hyung, I thought I just said not to-“

“I know I know, it’s just…” Minho looks back into Jisung’s eyes as the silence of the room settles around them once more. The beating of their hearts slow down, meeting the others’ at the same pace. The air growing comfortable, “I haven’t been held like that in a long time… until last night.” 

Jisung rolls back his shoulders. “Oh - do you not want me to keep….” His sentence trails off, heightening it into a form of a question.

“No no - I - actually… enjoyed it, actually..” Minho chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as he feels heat rising against it. “I - I really needed that.. warmth - you know, your warmth… I guess.” His cheeks grow red. 

Jisung is taken aback for a moment, his back straightening and his eyes widening slightly. “Oh - well… I’ll continue then…” He says, trying to settle in this moment. 

Minho nods with a small smile. “Good - I mean - you’re okay with that, right?” He asks, straightening his back and blinking quickly as he confirms that he isn’t asking for too much. I mean, he is already sharing a bed with his roommate. That’s already asking much.

“Oh no yeah - it’s more than okay - shit I mean like - as long as you’re okay, then it’s okay with me.” Jisung clears his throat, feeling that same heat rising in the back of his neck as he struggles to keep eye contact with Minho. “If you’re happy then I’m happy.”

Minho offers a smile and a small amused exhale. “I’m also okay with it if you are.”

“Yeah - I’m okay!” Jisung says.

“Good. We’re both okay then…” Minho says, nodding with his lips pressed together into a thin line.

This feels awkward.

“I’m sorry it’s just -“ Jisung glances down, a bit too quickly and for too long, and glances back into Minho’s eyes.

Minho realizes what he’s implying and suddenly is aware of his body. Quickly covering his chest with his hands, his lips pursing out and his eyebrows rising. “Oh shit - sorry Ji, I forgot about this..” Minho shuffles around looking for the white tshirt he threw off earlier while Jisung was asleep. 

As he searches for the shirt, Jisung revels in all of Minho’s shirtless glory. The sculpted back of his with the prominent chest and soft stomach that he does not see often. Sure, Minho sometimes walks around shirtless or when he has the towel wrapped around his waist after a shower. But he’s never seen him without a top in bed…. in his bed to be exact. This time it feels different. Jisung feels different.

“Found it,” Minho says, quickly turning the shirt back from inside out and pulls it back on.

No more staring.., 

“Sorry Sungie. Forgot I took it off earlier - was sweaty when I woke you know because we were so close the whole night.” Minho says, chuckling and feeling that sweaty heat begin to form working him again. 

Jisung quickly shakes his head, trying not to say the wrong things. “No no it’s okay- honestly you could’ve kept it off its just- actually- I’ll just shut up.” 

Minho chuckles out of amusement, looking at Jisung up and down. “Wow, Ji thinking before he speaks? The world stopped spinning.” He says sarcastically, teasing him relentlessly.

“Oh shut up,” Jisung rolls his eyes as he hits him with the pillow. 

Minho lets out a breath after stopping laughing and watches Jisung in silence for a moment. Only for a moment, before he glances at the window outside. Seeing the sun peering in, and already feeling the day pass by them. “You hungry?” He asks as he pulls the sheets off himself and slowly rises out of bed.

“Now you mention it, a bit yeah.” Jisung says as he feels his stomach rumble against his palm.

“I’ll make breakfast after I wash up then.” Minho says as he gives a warm smile; now the sun isn’t the warmest thing in the room. He leans over and gives a head rub to a tousled hair Jisung before turning on his heel and heading to the bathroom.

• • • • • •

“This is really good, Hyung.” Jisung speaks with his cheeks full, a fighting smile against his lips. He picks up a handful of rice with his chopsticks and stuffs even more in his mouth. His cheeks look like they’re about to burst if he doesn’t stop anytime soon. Does he not chew?

Minho chuckles at the cheeky sight as he takes a sip of his glass of water. “Yeah? Thank you.” He gives a warm smile as he can’t help but watch Jisung’s cheeks grow larger the more he stares. He shakes his head as he looks down at his plate, eating his breakfast to his heart's content. When he looks back up at Jisung, the large, filled cheeks are nowhere to be seen. It is now back down to its normal size, with him still picking for more food.

“What?” Jisung feels eyes on him, glancing up to see a gleaming-eyed cat with invisible whiskers perking up and staring right at him. He chuckles, feeling perceived more than anything or anytime else.

“Nothing,” Minho replies shortly, blinking quickly as he sucks on his lip for a second as he looks back down at his plate, distacting himself by picking up more food.

Jisung squints his eyes at Minho for a moment, suspicious, but chuckles to himself as he continues eating. Swaying his head side to side as she continues to enjoy such a good meal first thing in the morning.

“I have a question,” Minho said, his voice a bit muffled with food filling his cheeks. He points his chopsticks towards Jisung as he chews.

Jisung looks up, tilting his head with raised eyebrows. Signaling that he can go ahead and ask.

“How bad is my sleep talking?” Minho asks, pressing his chin against his knuckles as he rests his elbow on top of the dining table. Chewing as he eyes Jisung deeply.

Jisung chuckles and scoffs to himself. This question is one he has been dying to answer, and today is finally the day he can talk about it. Those nights where he would struggle to fall asleep because Minho would be uttering nonsense behind his back, in his ear, or straight to his face. Sometimes, Jisung wanted to muffle him out with a pillow, but he couldn’t help but find the tiny murmurs cute at the same time. So, he slowly grew accustomed to his sleep talks. Jisung has messed with his hyung a few times, too, replying to his nonsensical broken sentences, watching Minho’s sleeping self grow in panic or anger because of Jisung’s teasing remarks.

“The worst.” Jisung lies, purely doing it to see what type of reaction his hyung will reply with.

Minho blinks quickly, his lips shrunken together and his neck pushed forward as he freezes in place. “Wait really?” A slight quiver in his eyebrows can be seen.

Jisung, satisfied with the simple reaction, shakes his head with a teasing smile. “I’m kidding - I’ve grown used to them. So it’s like white noise to me - or rather, Minho noise.” He chuckles with his joke.

Minho let out a sigh of relief and slumped back in his chair. “Oh, thank god - I thought I was not only taking up your bed but also your hearing.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind if you took up my hearing too,” Jisung says boldly, not thinking before speaking, but letting his tongue roam however it wants. 

Minho looks at him up and down with an unreadable expression. He remains silent, just paused with chopsticks between his slender fingers and his watchful eyes trailing Jisung’s figure across the table. Jisung gulps as he also stays quiet, unsure of what is going on inside Minho’s head right now.

But the moment ends quickly when Minho clears his throat and changes the subject. “Have I said anything crazy?” His questions continue.

Jisung thinks for a moment, flashes of nights of them sleeping. Rethinking back to his tiny little murmurs of random words, curses, and questions. But nothing comes to mind that necessarily could be seen as crazy. Jisung shrugs his shoulders and pushes up the corner of his mouth. “Mmm, I’m not sure. I haven’t been listening anymore to catch anything.”

“You should start listening. I’m curious.” Minho chuckles, that mischievous grin faded against his cheeks, his eyes lighting up. 

• • • • • •

And that is exactly what Han Jisung did that night. 

It was the same as any other night. Except this time, Jisung is wide awake listening to Minho’s nonsense of mutters. 

Minho’s back faces him, the black tee fading in and out of Jisung’s mind. The exposure of his bare back this morning, in such a high setting, made it impossible to imagine him with a shirt when he lays beside him. But the disappearance of the shirt stops as Minho begins to groan. 

Here we go.

“Mm..” Minho begins, he always groans and makes little noises before actually forming barely coherent words in his sleep. So this is the signal of its beginning.

He chuckles and shifts in his sleeping position. “No…” He mutters, groaning again as he twitches in the shoulder. “Fuck…. y-ou…” his voice stutters between with broken words. 

Jisung can’t help but chuckle. This is the usual Minho sleep talking, nothing interesting to look out for just yet. Maybe he should try going to bed, he doesn’t feel there will be anything new to hear anytime soon.

Minho blows air out from his lips, making his lips blubber together as he breathes out. Jisung chuckles at the sight.

“Mmm… go … aw…aye…” Minho groans, his eyebrows begin to furrow as his body twitches, clenching a bit closer to himself. “Mad…” He mutters as his hands form into tiny fists against his chest. 

Not seeing this side of him, Jisung tilts his head to get a better look at him. Now this is different. He thinks as he watches Minho get mad at someone or something in his dreams. “Leave… him…” He mutters. 

But this tense expression quickly fades as Minho’s shoulders relax and a chuckle is heard. “Ahe~” He giggles, his body shifting, soon completely turning over into his back. His arm sprawled against his own chest and the other folds over Jisung’s chest. “Heh~”

Jisung watches Minho, heat building in his chest as he feels his warmth against his body, seeing the soft lips formed into a sleepy smile. 

“Ch..ks..” Minho mutters with that same smile. “Je..ks..” 

What is he saying? Jisung can barely make out any words Minho is murmuring. Is he back to his nonsense?  

“Whatcha say, hyung?” Jisung whispers, going back to his teasing responses to the unconscious Minho.

“Cheeks… Cheekies…” Minho murmurs again, but more clearly this time. His body completely turned back into his stomach, his arms buried in Jisung’s chest and his face in the mattress. 

Jisung’s cheeks heat up as Minho seems to push himself even closer to him, the skinship makes his heart race. Glad that he isn’t awake to feel his heart beat pick up every second he presses against him. “Cheeks?” Jisung whispers to himself out of confusion.

Minho is quiet for a moment, just his heavy breathing and snoring being heard. This almost brings Jisung back to sleep, but he hears Minho let out a groan; he’s going to say something again. 

“Jisungie…” Minho murmurs, his voice light and a sweet chuckle exiting from his lips after. This causes the owner of this nickname to practically spring up and slap his hand over his mouth in shock.

“The fuck-“ He curses, a little too loud as he feels the peacefully sleeping Minho begin to stir. 

Oh shit . Jisung quickly slams himself back down into bed, shuffling around to the side, making his back face Minho, hiding his face as much as possible. Shutting his eyes tight and hoping he looks as natural as possible. Behind him is a groaning Minho who rubs his eyes, slowly sitting up. His messy hair blocks his eyes, combing the strands back with his fingers, he glances at the sleeping Jisung. 

Jisung is asleep already? What time is it?” Minho thinks to himself as he glances at the bedside clock he gifted Jisung. Nothing seems to wake him up except this alarm, so he gave it to him so he’d quit being late for work. 

2:36 am

We went to bed only like, 10 minutes ago… There's no way he’s asleep already. Minho glances at the unmoving figure beside him. Ji usually takes 25 minutes to fully fall asleep. By then, he’s out like a light. So how is he already asleep so soon? 

Minho groans, not wanting to pay any more attention to it. Laying back down, pulling the sheets over his chest and turning around to sleep on his side facing away from Jisung. He also takes  a while to fall asleep, so he slows down his breath to try to calm himself down enough to go back to bed. 

A few moments pass by, Minho keeps his breathing steady, eyes closed, but his mind is far from resting. Jisung, on the other hand, is about to commit to the dumbest thing he’s ever done.

He waits a few more minutes, just to be sure Minho won’t suddenly turn around and catch him in the act. Then, with a deep inhale, he lets out a small, overly exaggerated sigh.

“Mmm… Minho-hyung…” he mumbles, voice trailing off in an airy whisper. He shifts slightly under the covers, just enough to make it seem natural, like he’s really deep in sleep.

Minho’s ears twitch.

That’s weird.

Jisung doesn’t sleep talk. He’s known him for a while now—Jisung barely even moves in his sleep, let alone says shit like that.

But the younger continues.

“Mm…handsome…” Jisung murmurs bdly. He has never sleeptalked in his life, so he isn’t sure at all how to fake something that happens unconsciously. Minho being asleep is perfect for him to try to practice his stupid idea. Communicate through sleep talking. This dumbass.

Minho smirks, eyes still shut. So that’s what this is, huh? Jisung is playing games. The little shit probably thinks he’s asleep right now.

Interesting.

He decides to let him continue.

Jisung, not hearing any movement from behind him, assumes it’s safe to keep going. His face is burning, but he swallows his embarrassment and pushes forward.

“Hair… soft…” He shifts again, snuggling deeper into his pillow. “Nice.. voice…”

Minho fights the urge to laugh. He keeps his expression neutral, breathing slow and even. But inside, he’s very, very awake.

Jisung, feeling bold, decides to push the limit. “Mm… I…” He lets out another fake, wistful sigh, waiting for any sign of movement from Minho. When he hears nothing, he goes for the kill.

“Like him…” 

Minho couldn’t hold back his reaction, trying to fall asleep is no use anymore. His heart gets caught in his chest and he gasps as he sits up with widened eye, snapping his head over to the ‘sleeptalking’ boy beside him. “Wait what?!” He exclaims.

With the clear reaction, Jisung sits up himself with a panicked breath picking up. “Oh shit-“ He glances over and sees a beady-eyed cat with perked up ears and stiff fur, cheeks bright red and whiskers sparked upwards. His heart beats heavy, practically in his throat, feeling the need to throw up all over–but he doesn’t. Sweat building up underneath his arms and against his forehead as his embarrassed eyes meet another beside him. Jisung feels his body begins to shake, and his lips become dry. Shit shit shit shit!

““U-uhm! Y-you’re awakeeee? I didn’t knowwww…!” Jisung blurts, his voice cracking like glass under pressure. His eyes dart everywhere but at Minho, panic written all over his face. He’s practically vibrating, fingers clawing at the back of his neck like he’s trying to scratch away his nerves. His throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and his ears burn red, betraying every word he’s trying to hide.

Minho doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. He lies still, like his body has turned to stone, like if he shifts even slightly the whole moment will crack apart. His chest tightens, lungs aching with the need to breathe, but he can’t seem to remember how. His throat is dry—raw—and the sound in his ears is deafening. A high-pitched ringing, pulsing louder than his own racing heart.

The silence stretches, taut as wire.

“Hyung…” Jisung’s voice is smaller now, unsure, his hands hovering helplessly in the air before curling into fists at his sides. He wants to disappear. The weight of Minho’s silence presses down like a storm cloud seconds from breaking.

Minho finally speaks—but barely. The words scrape out of him like gravel. “You don’t sleep talk…” His brows twitch downward, lips barely moving. “So why…”

His voice hangs in the air, brittle and accusing.

Jisung stiffens, panic shooting up his spine. “Yes—Yes I do!” he blurts, too fast, too desperate. “I-I just started recently! Like, um—I think I picked it up from you or something? Mimicking or—yeah, you know…” His words are tumbling now, frantic and messy, trying to patch over a dam that’s already burst.

Minho doesn’t even blink.

His eyes drop to his hands, knuckles white from how tightly he’s clenching his bedsheets. “Why’d you say that?”

Jisung freezes. His brain blanks. “Say what?”

Minho looks up, slow and deliberate, locking eyes with him in a way that feels like a challenge. His jaw tightens. “Jisung.”

Fuck. There’s no going back.

He knows. He heard everything.

Jisung’s heart slams against his ribcage. He feels exposed, cornered, like every emotion he’s buried has clawed its way to the surface, raw and ugly.

“What do you mean, I like him …?” Minho’s voice is quieter now, but strained—like he’s trying to control something that wants to spill out. There’s a flicker in his eyes, not just confusion but fear. Hope. Dread. His chest rises sharply, his composure slipping. “What are you saying, Ji?”

Jisung’s breath catches. His mouth opens—but there are no excuses left. Only truth.

“I like you,” he admits, voice trembling. The words cut through the tension like a blade. “I like you.”

And everything stops.

Minho stares. His lips part slightly in disbelief, a breath shuddering out of him. His throat works around the silence. “So I didn’t mishear you…”

Jisung jumps in before he can change his mind. “Okay okay—look, hyung—so I didn’t think you’d ever hear it, okay? I was half-asleep and I’ve been trying to hide it for so long, but I just… I always thought you were straight. I never planned to say anything. And then I found out about you and Seungmin and I thought maybe—"

“YOU THOUGHT I WAS STRAIGHT?!?” Minho snaps, faces him so fast the blanket falls from his shoulders.

“YES I DID—OKAY?! WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK—”

Minho throws his hands in the air, his voice sharp and incredulous. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I THOUGHT YOU WERE STRAIGHT! THAT’S WHY I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING.”

Jisung recoils like he’s been slapped. “WHAT?!”

“YEAH! I didn’t say anything because I thought it’d ruin everything!”

“Minho-hyung, sorry but—are you actually stupid?!”

Minho shoots a glare across the bed. “NO, NO—ARE YOU STUPID—THINKING ME , LEE MINHO , WAS STRAIGHT?!”

“Okay—okay! So we’re both just stupid , oh my god…” Jisung groans, dragging his hands down his face, heart thundering in his chest.

And then silence.

Not the awkward kind from before. This one feels electric. Like the air in the room is charged, thick with everything that’s finally out in the open. Both of them are breathing hard, flushed, staring like they can’t believe this is real.

Minho’s shoulders drop first. He lets out a short, breathy laugh that sounds almost hysterical. Then a smirk curves his lips—shaky but real. “So… you like me?”

Jisung nods, still catching his breath. “I do.”

Minho tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “And now we know I like you too…”

Jisung blinks. “Wait—you do?”

“Ji—”

“I’m joking,” Jisung says quickly, though his voice wobbles at the end.

Minho shifts forward, crawling across the bed until they’re only inches apart. His hand reaches up slowly, fingers ghosting over Jisung’s cheek, gentle but deliberate.

“So…” Jisung whispers, his voice almost caught in his throat, “what now?”

Minho leans in, lips barely brushing against Jisung’s. “Now I’m going to kiss you,” he murmurs, eyes locked on his, “and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Jisung exhales shakily—then feels a pair of soft lips, perfectly locking with his. The fuller bottom lip, being filled with a fuller top lift. Click. Like a heart shape locked has been finalized and sealed with a kiss.

The moment their lips touch, it’s not soft. It’s not tentative. It’s greedy—desperate—like a dam breaking all at once. Jisung gasps against his mouth, and Minho swallows the sound like it’s air he’s been dying to breathe. Their hands find each other’s faces, necks, hair—clutching like anchors, like they’ve been drowning.

Jisung pulls him closer, practically dragging Minho into his lap, straddling him tightly. Minho groans into the kiss, his fingers tangling in the fabric of Jisung’s shirt, twisting it into his fists like he needs something solid to hold on to or he’ll float away.

Their mouths move like they’re starved, all lips and breath and the unbearable heat of months of wanting sealed in a single, maddening moment. Teeth clash. Fingers grip. It’s messy and hot and absolutely perfect in its chaos.

By the time they break apart, both are panting—foreheads pressed together, eyes fluttering open, lips red and swollen.

Jisung lets out a shaky breath. “That was…”

“Finally,” Minho finishes for him, voice low and hoarse. He presses another soft kiss to the corner of Jisung’s mouth—this one slow, lingering, like a promise.

Neither of them moves. They just stay there, tangled together in the middle of the bed, hearts finally quiet after screaming for so long.