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Minho huffed.
“Felix, can you stop now?”
The blond hums with a pretty smile, “I think you’ll look good in green.”
Minho rolls his eyes for the fifth time, holding his decorated hand up for extra measure. Felix’s thread that he had been meticulously wrapping around his hand in pretty designs like string art, swishes delicately. Sky blue and yellow.
“Am I going colour blind, doc?” he waves his stringy hand in Felix’s face with a catty smirk.
It’s Felix’s turn to roll his eyes, “Whatever, Grinch. Let me know when your heart grows a couple sizes too.”
Felix tugs on the string once, the knots slipping off like silk and going back to lying serenely in the air. It's a beautiful thing, really. It shines like mermaid scales, shooting right off to Seungmin in the other corner of the lecture hall, who keeps looking back with a questioning expression at the tugging but keeps his distance.
“Is that why you wanted me to be green?” Minho jokes. Pouts persist.
He sighs, pulls Felix’s chair closer. “You know I don't care about any pinks or greens or rainbows, whatever.”
Felix was a lover; the idea that someone would be blessed with the gift and then blatantly deny it, was absurd to him. Ever since he got his untied yellow string, all the starry eyed boy had dreamed of was finding a soul to complete the link, someone destiny and he himself would agree was his perfect match. Minho knows. He had to witness the countless refrigerator arts growing up, all of them decorated with glitter and sparkles like the magical thing he dreamed of it to be. Thankfully, with Seungmin, it turned out to be just that magical.
Minho knows how terrifying it is in reality, however.
“But speaking of pinks…” he continues, Felix giving him the tiniest side eye, “I think I saw Binnie’s string connected this morning to-”
Felix was already out of his seat and the door by the time Minho could pretend to hide his laughter, fully giving up when he locked eyes with Seungmin’s disapproving look.
—
“Ah ah ah” his grandpa tutted.
Minho stopped pulling at the strange pink string on his ring finger and blinked up at him, round eyes filled with the innocence of a 5-year-old.
His grandpa laughed and took his tiny hand in his, “Aegi-ya, do you know what this is?”
Minho nodded his head with confidence, “‘Ope!”
“Not just any rope,” Grandpa chuckled fondly, taking the loose untied end in his hand, “you know how mine, your eomma and more are tied to other people?”
Minho nodded, looking at the short string tied neatly in a bow on his ring finger, the other end loose and very untied.
“But you’re special, aegi,” Minho looked up again at his grandpa’s words, curious now, “special people can see the rope.” Grandpa smiled.
“But even more special people can choose their own destiny.”
Minho feels special, alright.
He definitely feels in charge of destiny as his peach soda spills over and drenches his entire shirt. As he runs home to change and finds the shorter road blocked under construction, making him miss his next class. And definitely as he's changing routes, tripping and dipping his entire foot in a puddle.
He is in charge of destiny, alright. It's just that all roads of fate lead to him getting screwed over.
And it must be one of those twisted swirly whirly roads that lead to this.
He has 35 minutes before he misses the next-next class too and his organic chemistry professor is a pain in the ass with late-comers. Bad day be damned, he’s not letting that middle-aged grump take his frustration out on him.
The other way back to Minho's house was through a bridge. Stunning photogenic view, really, but quite the longer walk. Couples often stopped by to look down at the calmly flowing river below and whisper sweet nothings Minho would never understand. But he's not the Grinch, despite Felix's accusations, so he does get the appeal.
What he doesn't get the appeal of is the idiot flouncing around on the railing as if he's in an anime and one misstep won't lead to a very watery grave.
A car whirs right past Minho, making him jump and tear his eyes off the impromptu tightrope walker. Maybe he'll join Mr. Circus in his grave at this rate. This day is really out to get him.
“I know you're staring at me.”
Minho jumps again, thankful for the traffic-less road now. The boy's face was extremely close to Minho's for someone who was literally walking the line between life and death at least a few meters away. He was perched on the railing like a cat, arms crossed and big shiny eyes grinning down at him. If Minho could do something artsy like paint, maybe he'd consider this an inspiring moment. But he can't, so he just considers it the nuisance that it is.
“Dear god,” Minho rushes forward, holding onto the boy's pants with just three fingers as if it'll prevent the deadly tumble, “Are you insane?!”
The boy blinked down at Minho’s hand then back at his face curiously. Embarrassed, Minho releases his grip, dusting his hand on his own pants for extra measure.
The boy chuckles but much to Minho's relief, sits down on the railing instead, swinging his legs in front of Minho and still sporting that boyish smile.
“I don't know what suicidal wishes you have,” Minho crosses his arms, “but I'm really not looking forward to being a witness before chem lab.”
The boy’s smile only grows, “And you have your life so put together?” his eyes point down to Minho's soaking shirt with an eyebrow raised.
“I was on the way to get it together when I saw the world's worst circus act.”
“Hey, give me some credit,” He pouts, jumping down from the railing, “I have to at least be second last if you stopped to stare.”
Minho tilts his head, “I was trying to mentally calculate your stupidity.”
The boy huffs, stomps his foot like a child for extra measure, “Can you stop judging my hobbies?”
Minho smirks.
The boy gestures towards his soda stained shirt, “I don't judge your public pisskink or whatever.” Minho stops smirking.
Why was he standing here talking to this guy anyway? Minho turns around with a groan, not bothering to reply to the boy. He's gonna miss the next class too at this rate.
“By the way!” He can hear rushed footsteps as the boy rushes to catch up to him and rolls his eyes, “I wasn't trying to die, Mr. Grumpy Pants, have you ever heard of whimsy?”
Minho keeps walking, the boy doesn't give up, “Ever watched an anime? You can't tell me my stunning good looks didn't make you stop dead in your tracks wondering ‘Oh just who is that dashing guy?’”
Minho snorts, in his peripheral vision he sees the guy point a finger at him, “So you do have emotions!” He skips in excitement, “I was starting to think I met Tin Man on a random Tuesday.”
“Besides,” The guy really doesn't seem to want to let up, “If you must know, I was trying to see if I can get my soulmate’s attention.”
Oh here we go again. When your soulmate tugs on the string or gets into some sort of danger, their soulmate feels the pull. Not literally, as not everyone is gifted to be able to see the string but they feel a sort of tug, their intuition leading them a certain way to answer to their soulmate's needs. Minho thinks of it like a really flexible, really long pair of handcuffs. But like, magical.
Therefore it's also not uncommon for people to go to extreme measures to quite literally drag their soulmates to them. Which is stupid considering, you know, the whole point of this is that it's fated and fate will happen when it wants to. Minho appreciates the dedication though. Universe knows he has a bone to pick with destiny, especially today, especially with this comic character tailing him.
Minho spares a curious glance at the boy's hand. They're shoved inside his pockets, no string in sight, which isn't uncommon. When your soulmate is far away, the string often remains short but with no clear end so as to know a soulmate exists but also to not get tangled with other strings.
The boy catches his stare, offers him a lopsided grin, “What, are you one of the people with the gift?”
“Even if I were,” Minho huffs again, “I'd be a very pissed off one who's in a hurry and definitely not in the mood to entertain any lovesick fools.”
This seems to remind the boy of something and he stops in his tracks, “I'll leave you alone then!”
Minho casts a glance back, watching the boy waving his hand with big childish gestures, “See you soon, Tin Man!”
Minho doesn't know where he got that idea from.
But he does know that the professor is about to have a field day with his arrival.
—
“Do you think they have jelly cups in any flavour but blue?”
“Blue is not a flavour”
“Blue is so a flavour,” Jeongin scrunches his nose, “The worst one at that.”
Minho gasps, “You take that back, yellow is the worst flavour.”
Jeongin throws a pack of tide pods at him. “Bon appétit!”
Minho smiles sweetly at him, tugging the expensive pack of strawberry mochi Jeongin just added to the cart. Before it even moves an inch, an orange wrapped hand shoots out to grab Minho’s.
Jeongin, being Minho's brother, was also presented with the gift and the choice to “weave his own destiny” as they called it. So weave he did, securely tying the loose end of the thread around his own wrist and finger as if attaching the other end to himself. Jeongin did not want a soulmate. A wise decision if you ask Minho.
A foxy pretty smile graced him, “Hyungie, have I told you that blue's actually my favourite too?”
Minho sniffed, turning around and grabbing a different pack off the shelf, “Nice try, my favourite is purple.”
“I don't judge those born without taste buds.”
Minho rolls his eyes, turning away from his chameleon brother but stopping dead in his tracks. The convenience store had a huge window with a street view, nearly covering the entire wall. It was a normal sunny busy city day out, quite unremarkable. A black kitten, just bigger than Minho’s palm, was waddling along to cross the road, blissfully unaware of the world around it. It was the cutest thing he had seen all day, really.
The problem was the truck rapidly approaching the baby, the driver window too high to notice such a small thing.
Before he could even think about a plan, Minho was running out the door, the store alarm blaring because of the package still in his hands. He thinks he heard the clerk and Jeongin yell at him but what rang louder was,
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!”
A bicycle drops a couple feet in front of Minho but all he sees is a flash of a black, a body zipping past him directly towards the now confused animal. It happens like an anime scene again, the person rushes to pick up the animal, trips over his own feet a couple times getting up (okay maybe not completely as smooth as anime), but thankfully his grown adult body is enough for the truck to slow and come to a stop. The person finally makes it to the other side, his waddling resembling the kitten itself.
Minho’s jaw drops.
Tightrope walker boy sits down on the sidewalk, falling on his butt like a toddler. Minho can see his giggles as the kitten nuzzles into his palm, both uncaring of the small crowd they’ve gathered.
He doesn’t know when or how he crossed the road but when Tightrope boy looks up at him with the same curious eyes, Minho is vaguely reminded of the moment when he wished he could do something artistic to capture the blinding smile he sends him.
“Tin Man!” the boy’s smile morphs into a catty smirk, hands still scratching the cat’s chin in his arms, “Miss me that much?”
Minho scoffs, dropping to his knees to check the kitten held securely now, looking up at Minho just like his saviour.
“There’s no way you just did that.” He looks at the boy, softly patting the confused cat’s head too now.
The boy giggles, fucking giggles , again. Maybe it's because he’s holding a cat that it works some charm on Minho.
“There’s no way you just witnessed that.”
“I’m starting to think I’ll be the prime suspect when one of these stunts fail.”
“That’s quite an honour, don’t you think?” the boy tilts his head, “Sorry but I’m saving that for my soulmate.”
Minho’s own string sizzles with energy at the mention of its purpose. Minho rolls his eyes, “As expected of the Scarecrow.”
The boy's smile drops, he looks at Minho with a serious face, “Are you calling me dumb?”
“You wouldn't have to ask if you had a brain.”
His grin returns, “Good!” Why is his smile so addictive? “I might be the Scarecrow but I was worried how to get the stick out of your ass.”
Before Minho could answer, the boy’s eyes catch on the jelly cups Minho forgot he even had with him and he lets out a small gasp.
“Purple!” He plucks one out of the pack before Minho could protest, “Thanks, these are my favourite!”
“HANNIE!”
The boy jumps, the kitten also meowing in protest at the movement.
On the other side of the road is a tall lanky boy, holding onto a red bicycle as well as the green one that had fallen earlier before the stunt. He's too far for Minho to read his expression but he can sense the distress from here. Minho's generous enough to pray for his sanity if he's friends with this boy.
“Oh shit,” The boy jumps up from his cozy spot on the grimey sidewalk, “Gotta go!”
He scurries off, kitten still clutched securely in his hand. Minho has five heart attacks for his safety as he crosses the road, one for each car that zips past him while he's looking back to wave to Minho.
“See you soon, Tin Man!”
Minho can't even be mad.
—
Destiny really likes to play pranks on him. He really thought they'd have some mutual agreement by now, he’s been on a tug of war with it since he was born after all. But no, every morning he wakes up and destiny is sticking its tongue out at him for thinking that.
Tall lanky guy is called Hyunjin. Minho did not try to find this out. Actually, he had no intentions of ever seeing anything related to the boy again.
But here comes Changbin, strolling in the college cafeteria looking thrice his height (in spirit only) with the boy’s tall, reasonably concerned friend in tow - attached at the wrist with a bright magenta string. Changbin isn't gifted to see the string, but Felix's excited squeak next to Minho is enough to spark nervous hope in his eyes.
The strings are two toned only when tied on purpose, like Felix’s and Seungmin’s blue and yellow, a special mark of a destiny weaved with intention. Most people don't tie their own strings, most people don't get a choice in their own destiny - it just appears on their fingers one fine day, tying their souls to one person for eternity.
Fat fucking choice people like Minho get though.
“Oh, it's you!” Hyunjin gives dumb thoughtless stares too. Makes sense they're friends.
Changbin tilts his head, looking between them, “You two know each other?”
“Yeah, he was-”
“We saw each other at the dog park,” Minho mentions offhandedly. Hyunjin does the same curious blink that the duo seems to love.
“You don't even have a dog.”
“I was walking Seungminnie.” That earns him an elbow to the rib from Felix.
“He wishes he could put a collar on me.” Seungmin doesn't even look up from his soup.
“Ignore them,” Felix chirps, “Sooo how did you two meet? How did this happen? Tell me everything. ”
Hyunjin sighs dramatically, already at home with the group, “He kept tailing me like a puppy so I decided to throw him a bone.”
“Oh hey, now you can walk him while I walk Seungminnie!” Changbin and Felix's glares only make his smile wider.
Hyunjin laughs, “Jokes aside though, uh…” He looks at Changbin with a sheepish expression.
Changbin puffs up, “He saved me from falling down the stairs.” The look he gives Hyunjin makes Minho sick to the stomach.
Minho doesn't understand again. What's the novelty in this? Fate decided this one mate for you, by hook or crook, high or low, you will meet them. You will meet them and they'll be so perfect for you that you cannot imagine a life without them. What does that bitch destiny know anyway?
Hyunjin’s whipped away by Felix soon enough, the two chattering excitedly like childhood friends (which they might actually be, Minho can't keep tabs on him anymore) so he corners Changbin. The nervous energy is falling off the boy in ripples and he's been avoiding Minho's eyes for too long.
Minho grabs his head, turning it so they're looking right in the eye, way too intimately for someone whose soulmate is a couple feet away but Hyunjin doesn't bat an eye.
“Stop worrying.” Minho squishes his cheeks for emphasis, “He's the soulmate.”
Five kilos visibly slip off Changbin's shoulders as he exhales, “Oh thank God ‘cause I was-”
“I know.” A smile finds its way to Minho's face.
Changbin looks back at Hyunjin, eyes positively sparkling with fondness, “I'm so glad fate chose him for me.”
Minho doesn't understand.
Hyunjin's laugh resonates in his ear. Maybe it's the way the sunlight from the open window hits him as he blinks up at Changbin. Maybe it's because of the same dumb innocent look. Maybe all this is the only reason why Minho is reminded of his Scarecrow.
Minho is going insane.
—
It's not uncommon for dance practice to run a little late. A lot late actually, mostly because Minho stays behind drilling every move into his muscles till he can run the routine in his sleep. But it’s okay because despite the way to his house still being under construction, Felix takes pity on his old bones at times like these.
As soon as Minho hit the stop button on the speaker, he knew he’d be crashing at Felix’s dorm tonight, not even a shred of energy left to walk the whole way back to his apartment. And Felix, as usual, was happy to bring him back, intertwining their fingers and swinging it on the way too. It recharged Minho’s battery by at least 2 more bars.
Then Seungmin showed up and sucked it dry.
“Hyung, you’ll get crumbs on the sofa.”
Minho squeezed his eyes shut, “I’ll shove the remote up your ass if you don't leave me alone.”
“Great, can you clean the crumbs when you get up to do that?”
Minho was lying across the sofa, a huge bowl of chips resting on his chest as he tried to coax his muscles to move again. Felix and Seungmin were happily cuddled up on the floor, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, sharing their bowl of popcorn while trying to pick a movie to put on.
“Not even a colonoscopy with a remote can loosen your tight ass.” He can feel the headache incoming.
Seungmin looks him in the eye with an innocent smile, “I don't know, it usually only takes three fingers.”
“That’s ‘cause Felix is tiny.”
“Hey!” Felix pops a popcorn in his mouth, “Why am I catching strays?”
Felix’s complaints go unheard, “Why do you care, it’s not even your sofa?!”
“Because you’re in my spot and I don’t want ants biting my ass when I’m trying to get it up the ass!”
“OH MY GOD.” Felix’s head flops back on the sofa dramatically, looking at Minho upside down, “Can you guys please grow up and watch Barbie Charm School with me ‘cause this is not how I want to spend my Friday night.”
Seungmin takes one look at Felix’s face and suddenly he’s the white dove of peace and love. He turns back to the screen without a word, gently leaning into the embrace when Felix nuzzles into his neck. The soulmate bond is preached enough, Minho has heard countless times about the way your soul feels at ease around them, how your insides glow with renewed energy with just a touch.
But Minho doesn't have a personal charger like that so he only finds it sickening when they start sucking faces.
He gathers every bit of energy left in him to get up from his horrible back ache inducing spot, parting with his bowl of chips before he does something stupid like coo at them. He slips out of the dorm when Felix gets too busy narrating a story about how many princess trainings he had mastered as a kid, Seungmin listening to him like he wasn’t treating balancing books on his head like an Olympic sport.
He and Scarecrow should have a stupid balance sports competition. The image was hilarious to Minho. The boy who stumbled standing up when literally faced with death, his boba pearl like eyes trying to stare up at the books to see if they’ll fall. Minho chuckled out loud, immediately covering it with a cough when a passing student gave him a weird look.
Right, he was in the hallway.
He knew his way around the dorm, having spent sufficient time here visiting all his friends, so he was able to quickly sneak up to the roof to give the two their space. Can’t believe he was getting sexiled when he was only crashing a single night.
He takes a nice calming breath of the chilly night air, already feeling the freshness wash his exhaustion away.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
One of these days, Minho’s name will be on the headlines and no one can blame him.
He looks around the roof, pouting when he’s confident that he’s the only one there. He swears if Felix’s stupid essential oil diffuser gave him brain damage then he’s about to fist fight destiny because he’s sure somehow it's still that bitch’s fault. Felix can do no wrong.
He rounds the entrance to the back of the roof and nearly looks up at the sky to yell “what the fuck”, but it might be his own thoughts that manifested this.
Of course Scarecrow is here again. Why wouldn’t he be at the exact dorm Minho has to frequent. He's standing with his back to Minho, looking at something over the railing with a pile of rocks strewn about at his feet.
Scarecrow winds his arm back, comically raising his leg too like he’s a baseball player, before throwing a rock at a window in the building across. He waits a second before bending down to get another one, slowly winding back to the same pose.
Minho rolls his eyes, rushing before his dramatic routine is over to grab the hand the boy was using as a catapult. ‘Hannie’, as he remembers his friend called him, looks back, letting out the smallest squeak as he stumbles and falls into Minho because of the halted action.
It's weird how he has met this boy only thrice now and somehow they always end up this close. Close enough for Minho to see the mole on his cheek and the small puff of air when he exhales due to the chilly weather.
As much disaster as he brought about with him, Minho had to admit he was rather beautiful. Full round cheeks tinted just the smallest amount of red - presumably due to the cold, and a plump bottom lip. Minho could swear he saw the stars reflected in his eyes. Or maybe it was just the way they always are.
It lasts only a second, Minho blinking out of it first, “Don’t tell me you’re trying to get a girl’s attention by throwing pebbles at her window like in those cliche movies.”
“What?” The boy’s eyes widened narrowly, scrambling out of Minho’s hold. He nearly forgot he was still holding him.
“No,” He turns around to face Minho fully now, “I’m trying to be annoying. ”
“Well, you don’t have to try very hard for that.”
The boy rolls his eyes, “I’m trying to cockblock someone,” he says with the seriousness of someone presenting their monthly business report.
Minho needs a fucking break. “I know I’m gonna regret asking this but who?”
The boy lights up with a grin, “My creative writing classmate!”
Before Minho could process, he’s turning around again, leaning over the railing enough to be on his tippy toes, “JEON JUNGWOO YOU PIECE OF SHIT, I KNOW YOU HAVE HERPES.”
Within seconds Minho sees the lights being turned on.
“Are you-” Minho cuts himself off, yanking the boy by his denim jacket sleeve, dropping down himself so they're both crouching - hidden by the solid railing right as the curtains were being drawn.
Hannie has the audacity to giggle, covering his mouth with a hand as he fails to control his laughter.
“ Are you trying to get your pretty face knocked in?” Minho drops his voice, just in case, despite there not being any way they could be heard from the next building - unless, of course, he was shouting as well.
The boy lets out a couple more chuckles, removing his hand to give Minho a coy smile. Minho would not have found it attractive had it not been for the way his cheeks got redder from laughter, scrunching up his eyes in a mirthful way.
“‘You think I’m pretty?”
They’re settled side by side, leaning against the railing now. Scarecrow has his knees pulled up to his chest, resting his arms on it but head tilted to the side as he continues to look at Minho with that teasing smile.
Minho knocks his head back against the railing, “Pretty good at being a pain in my ass.”
“Hey now,” he knocks his shoulder with Minho’s, “You’re the one who comes to me !” He sticks his tongue out like a child, “Stalker.”
“How is it that you keep getting into near-death situations every other day?” Minho raises an eyebrow, “It's been like a week since we met.”
Scarecrow smiles at him for just a second, turning around to face forward and slipping down so he was lying on his back.
“I don’t know.” His eyes are trained towards the night sky, the teasing smile back. Minho is a big enough man to admit that he likes his eyes. “How do you keep finding me?”
Minho gulps. It's not like he has an answer.
“You ever listen to the stars, Tin Man?” Scarecrow looks up at him from his lying position, his hair splayed out under him. There’s a strand falling in his eyes. Minho isn’t going to do something stupid.
“That’s not my name.” Minho doesn’t care.
No, he doesn’t listen to the stars. His entire life he has dedicated to specifically ignoring everything the stars have pushed on him. Expectations, that's all it is. He’s not about to do destiny’s homework for them.
Hannie cracks a small smirk, turning back to the sky and pointing up. “See that one?”
Minho looks up, begrudgingly sliding down to join him too to avoid a neck cramp.
“That one told me to stay up till 4 AM reading fanfiction yesterday.”
A laugh finds its way out of Minho, Scarecrow looking at him with a proud smile, quickly turning serious as he continues, “It had an erectile dysfunction tag.” His face mirrored the sternness of an army soldier but Minho could see the corners of his lips cracking with a smile, “I had to find out how they’d get through it.”
Minho turns his head so they’re face to face now, still shaking with a few chuckles, “They seem like great role models. Remind me to take career advice from them next.”
“You’re joking, but that one,” he points to another random star, “made me miss my science final that made me realise I shouldn’t be a doctor. Thank fuck, I mean - I cried when Chan had to get stitches and I wasn’t even in the room.”
The way he spoke eased something in Minho. The moonlight looked good on his honey skin. They should stay here longer.
“Which one told you to fall off a bridge to find your soulmate then?”
“Hey, I didn’t fall.” For some reason, Minho was happy to have his eyes on him again. Hannie smiled, “But wouldn’t it be insanely romantic if I did and they happened to catch me right in the nick of time?”
Minho rolls his eyes, tearing them away to look at the stars now, “Maybe the stars need some health and safety training.”
Hannie huffed, “Have a heart, Tin Man.”
Minho smirked, “Have a brain, Scarecrow.”
The boy’s smile then almost looked fond. But that can’t be right.
“Han Jisung.”
Han. Hannie. Han Jisung. Jisung.
Jisung. Minho likes that. He’s scared just how many things he’s starting to like.
He inhales, “Lee Minho.”
Jisung stares at him for a second, before chuckling softly, “Min - Tin”
Somehow the happiness spreads to Minho, both falling into a fit of hushed laughter over the stupidest joke.
They spend the next hour lying there, Jisung now inventing absurd constellations once he ran out of his astronomical knowledge after the Pisces cluster.
He swears up and down that a combination of 5 stars somehow resemble a Pikachu, so Minho retaliates by saying it’s Charmander, the 5th star obviously being the fire on its tail. They both agree it’s Tom Nook with his bag of bells.
When Felix sends him a series of concerned texts asking where he went and how sorry he was, Minho blinks in realization.
He hasn’t felt a shred of exhaustion since he caught Jisung.
—
Being “The Chosen One” is never as grand as it seems.
Destiny chooses you, handpicks you out billions, but it's always the strongest warriors that are the pawns in fate’s game of chess.
It’s a simple game of deal or no deal, really.
Destiny isn’t so kind. It doesn’t forgive you like a mother when you cry that you want a new doll, buying it for you anyway and smiling at your joy.
No, destiny punishes you for your mistakes. There’s a right and wrong answer to everything. Destiny isn’t kind to those who misuse their choices.
Snap .
Game over.
Minho’s string tingles. He closes his hand in a fist.
—
Now that he knows he goes to the same college, now that he knows how destiny giggles every time they meet, he's expecting it the next time he sees him.
What he wasn't expecting was to find Han Jisung in the alley behind his part time job with his hand stuck down a sewer drain.
But really, that's on him for not seeing it coming.
“I wanna ask how this happened but I never get a good answer.” Minho drops the trash in its bin, which he came out to do in the first place before closing.
Jisung looks up and immediately he's sticking out his bottom lip, glassy eyes shining pitifully as soon as he recognizes Minho.
“Hyung,” he whines, sticking his lip out further, “I dropped my phone in the gutter…”
Minho sighs, throwing his head back to collect himself and mentally bid farewell to the night of binge-watching Bad Buddy he had planned.
He sits down in front of Jisung whose hand is still halfway down the gutter, pout imitating a kicked puppy unimaginably well. He looks at his eyes, sniffing once before sighing.
“Hannie?”
“Mm?” His innocent blinks nearly melt Minho. Nearly.
“Are you drunk?”
“Mhm,” he nods, losing his balance and nearly falling deeper into the drain.
Minho grabs his shoulders to steady him, making the boy once again way too close to his face, nearly laughing at the way his eyes widen with a surprised expression. It's absurd how common this whole song and dance is becoming.
“And how long ago did you drop it?”
Jisung puts on a thoughtful pout again, “About a long time before you found me.” He nods confidently.
He lights up again, “I was texting Hyunjin before I lost it! I’ll tell you the time from there.” He starts patting his pockets with his good hand, searching for something. Coming empty handed, he turns to Minho again with a serious worried expression, “Hyung, I lost my phone.”
Minho bites his lip to not laugh, matching his serious expression with furrowed brows, “We should try to look for it inside.”
Jisung nods hurriedly, looking down at his hand. Minho grabs his elbow, gently lifting his hand out so it doesn't get stuck in the rails. He can feel Jisung’s eyes on him as he does, clearing his throat in hopes it clears his mind too.
“Let’s get you inside and get you cleaned up, yeah?” Minho offers him a soft smile, “Can you stand up?”
Sooyeon wouldn’t mind if he stayed at the bar a little longer, he had already closed the entrance doors so it’s not like more people will come in. Plus, he knows her, he’s her favourite too, she’ll probably only pester him for details on what happened. Minho decides she doesn’t have to know he was here longer anyway.
Jisung nods, grabbing Minho’s shoulder with his good hand for balance as he stands up on wobbly legs. The whole scene makes Minho giggle, thinking about Bambi learning to walk when Jisung’s knees bend inward.
Minho’s trying so hard to be annoyed, he really is. His whole evening was ruined and his cats will undoubtedly be mad at him when he gets home. But Jisung keeps looking at him with so many emotions in his eyes, like he’s not sure if he’s real or another prank by his drunken haze. Like he wants him here.
Snap out of it, Minho.
Minho’s sure he didn’t see him at the bar all night. To be fair, Minho was working the back today. The only time he went to the actual bar section was to whine to Felix about how much his feet hurt, only to be met with a blank stare and a passive aggressive gesture to show his lack of a seating area.
That was hours ago, however, and something about the way the boy was giggling at his shoes told Minho that he’s a lightweight. He couldn’t have been here long.
Minho drags him to the washroom, Jisung tripping over his feet exactly four times (Minho counted). Placing him right before the sink, Minho bends so he’s in his line of sight, “I’ll be right back. Can you stand here and try to wash up by yourself while I’m gone?”
“Wait, don’t go!” Before Minho could protest, Jisung’s grabbing his shirt with his dirty hand, still looking at him with those godforsaken puppy eyes.
Minho exhales, one stern look down at his hand shirt is enough for Jisung to realise what he did and release his grasp, looking the smallest bit shameful.
“I’ll only be a minute, Jisung,” Minho deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for keeping his calm with his work clothes now soiled, meaning he has to do laundry when he gets home too. If he ever gets home at this rate.
Jisung looks too guilty to protest this time, only nodding with a small pout and opening the tap to start washing up.
Minho slips out to the break room, trying to keep his shirt from touching his skin as he digs through his locker for a spare and a towel for Jisung - which he initially wanted to retrieve.
The bathroom is attached to the breakroom, so he hears things getting knocked over and floppy footsteps and wonders if he can somehow fix whatever mess he made tomorrow instead.
“Hyung, do you have- oh.”
He comes in right as Minho’s slipping out of his shirt, the thing only hanging off his arms now.
Jisung’s still holding his hands out, now dripping from presumably being washed. And he’s staring. Not even subtly, his mouth hung in a slight “o” as his eyes trained right on Minho’s exposed abs, his drunk flush only getting redder.
“If you’re done eyeing me like deli meat…?”
Jisung snaps out of it, finally meeting Minho’s eyes in a panic, “Oh!”
He jumps, closing his eyes and turning around at dizzying speed so Minho can see the pretty flush on his neck too. He stumbles again because of the movement. Minho smirks. Cute.
Minho finishes changing into a fresh tee while Jisung keeps babbling apologies, dripping water on the floor from his forgotten quest.
“I- I didn’t see anything!” Liar.
Minho grabs the towel, rounding Jisung to stand in front of him, the boy looking up at him with a questioning expression and limp wrists.
Minho chuckles, sitting Jisung down on a sofa in the corner of the room and kneeling before him to wipe his hands.
“Did your friends abandon you?” Minho assumes he’s not so heartbroken since the last day they met that he’s taken to drinking alone.
Jisung is staring intently at their hands, as if Minho’s wiping is a fascinating documentary. He blinks up at Minho for a second to process his question.
“No,” he grins mischievously, dropping his voice as if telling a secret, “I abandoned them.”
Of course he did. “And why did you do that?”
He scrunches his nose, “Because Jin and Binnie making out is gross.”
“Okay, you have a point there.” Minho cracks a small smile.
Jisung nods, “I came outside to tell my grandma I love her!” he makes the face of an angry toddler, “Then I dropped grandma in the gutter.”
Minho covers his mouth in an attempt to hide his laughter, “I’m sure grandma is okay.”
Jisung keeps mumbling - something along the lines of “I hope so, she has a bad back…” - so Minho takes his own phone out to dial Changbin.
“ Hyung, now’s not a good time.”
“I know. The bar had a mouse infestation.”
“What?” he can imagine Changbin’s stupid expression from here, “ How is this my problem?”
Minho sighs, “You guys left Jisung here. I had to literally fish him out of a gutter.”
“WHAT?” Minho has to hold the phone away to avoid ear damage from Hyunjin’s screeches. He hears shuffling which he assumes is Hyunjin snatching the phone, “ Hyung, you’re with him?”
“Yes, Hyunjin, he’s fine and sewage-less now, just absolutely shit-faced still.”
“ Oh, thank god,” Hyunjin exhales, “ Just hang on a minute, we’ll pick him up right away.”
He hears Changbin grumbling about how Minho can just drop him off too and a distinct thwap of Hyunjin smacking him.
Minho rolls his eyes, “You guys know I have better things to do than babysit on a Friday night, right?”
Minho’s lying. He wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he safely delivers Jisung home himself or at least to Hyunjin. He cuts the call. Jisung was right, Jin and Binnie are gross anyway.
Jisung was still obediently sitting in his seat, swaying left and right while humming “To-to-ro to-too-ro” on repeat. He kept puffing and de-puffing his cheeks like a fish and Minho had to swallow the urge to bite them.
Despite what they say, Minho knows the duo will take quite a while to show up now that they know he's safe with Minho.
Minho sighs, grabbing the leftovers he kept aside for himself in the breakroom fridge and plopping down sideways next to Jisung on the sofa.
Jisung turns around to face him too, looking curiously at the box like a squirrel.
“I need you to eat.” Jisung looks at him again, eyes barely focused, “Can you do that? Can you eat?”
Jisung lights up, “Yes!” He nods vigorously, “I was gonna get McDonald's on the way home.”
“Right,” Minho chuckles, endeared, “I'm sorry I only have baos right now.”
Minho opens the box, making the boy gasp dramatically. Minho worked the kitchen today so he put a plate of pork baos aside for himself since he didn't want to go home and cook again. It's not like anyone would mind, Sooyeon is just happy he ate.
Jisung goes to grab one, Minho quickly slapping his hand away. It's embarrassing the effect Jisung's resulting pout has on him.
“You- you just had your hand in the gutter.” Jisung blinks at him, “Let me feed you.”
It's innocent. The way Jisung opens up, lips still curling up at the sides as Minho brings the food to his mouth. The way he hums in delight and wiggles in his seat at the taste.
Happiness looks good on Han Jisung. Minho would’ve made him a hundred more if he asked then. He would’ve fed him each one himself too, just to watch the way his eyes shine thankfully up at Minho.
There’s a speck of mayo on his nose. His cheeks are bunched up with food. His lips are curled up in a cat-like smile as he chews. Minho thinks he looks perfect.
“Tsk, Hannie,” Minho wipes the drop with a napkin, catching himself smiling fondly. He can’t think too much about it right now.
Jisung giggles, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.
“Hyung,” Jisung smiles dazedly at him, “You keep calling me Hannie.”
“Hm?” Minho’s hand drops, “Do you not want me to?”
Jisung looks a lot more sober now when he meets Minho’s eyes, but the smile still stays gentle on his face.
“It sounds like you’re calling me honey.”
It's Minho’s turn to blink at him. He’s right.
Jisung tilts his head, Minho’s breath catches.
“I like being called Hannie. Honey,” he looks down at his hands, “Always thought my soulmate would call me Hannie like honey when I dreamed, too.”
Minho inhales. He sees the faintest blush on Jisung’s neck.
He looks down at the food. Gulps. Brings the bao bun back to Jisung’s lips.
“Eat up, Jisung-ah,” Minho gives him the faintest smile, “I heard Binnie’s car pull up.”
—
Right before Changbin and Hyunjin whisked him away, when the duo were busy talking about their dorming plans for the night, Minho had pulled Jisung aside.
Taking a marker from his cargo pants pocket, he scribbled his number on Jisung’s arm, knowing he’ll lose any piece of paper he provides.
Jisung was left with very clear instructions.
Call or text Minho in the morning.
Let him know you’re alive.
Do not run away from dumb and dumber again.
Jisung nodded his head with the responsibility and seriousness of a soldier on a mission.
Jisung also forgot everything the next morning.
Minho wasn’t worried, he trusted Hyunjin and Changbin to take care of him. Plus, he supposed obtaining a new phone after his stunt yesterday would take some time.
Still, when his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number during a Physics lecture, Minho was rushing to grab it, slinking down in his seat slightly to not be caught.
xxxxx-xxxxx
Hey
Uh idk who this is but I saw your number scribbled like- all over my arm
if I hit on you at the bar I’m really sorry I was super drunk
I’m kinda not interested rn :(
Minho chuckles softly, hiding it quickly when Felix gives him a curious side glance.
Minho
But you also ate all my food and soiled my work clothes
Scarecrow
Oh my god Im so so sorry!!!
I’ll pay for everything I swear
Minho
I dont know…
Adding the reparations for the mental damage
And the purple jelly cups you stole
Idk hannie you’ve racked up quite the bill :///
Scarecrow
…
Minho giggles, watching the typing bubble pop in and out several times. He can already imagine Jisung’s face looking like the windows loading screen as he processes it.
Scarecrow
Makes sense you dont have a heart
Thats why you make such cruel jokes
Minho
Yah!
That’s how you treat the kind hearted man who fished you out of a gutter?
Fed you his last morsels?
Cared for you like a nurse?
Patted your tushy when he threw you in hyunibini’s car?
Scarecrow
AAA Im sorry hyungie (っ◞‸◟ c)
You’re right youre the bestest!!
My tushy thanks you whole-assedly
Minho laughs this time, covering it with a cough when he gets a stern look from the lecturer. He slips down a little more, mainly to avoid Felix’s prying eyes that are nearly leaning over to his seat.
His phone buzzes again.
Scarecrow
Would this help?
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Minho is a simple man.
The photo was a selfie, obviously taken while still in bed. Only the corners of Jisung’s face could be seen. He was lying on his back, hair splayed out under him, but that's about all Minho could see of him.
The focus in the picture was a kitten. The same one he saved that day on the road. It's a lot bigger now, sleeping curled around Jisung's head, its tail draped on his neck like a scarf.
If a picture had healing abilities, it would be this one.
Minho
You kept the cat?
Scarecrow
Yup! (≧∇≦)/
I couldn't leave her alone after that!!
We've been through so much together!! we nearly got isekai-ed!!!! (´•̥﹏•̥`)
Minho smiles. He somehow found a way for his texts to be as expressive as his eyes.
Minho
What's her name?
Scarecrow
Luna!!
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Minho could cry.
Jisung sent a series of pictures of Luna, each clearly taken right now. In order, they were shots of the cat yawning and stretching as she's waking up from her sweet slumber. Minho's heart is being squeezed like an orange in a juicer. He swipes to the last image.
The kitten was still on display, also looking up at the camera now as she huddled closer to Jisung's head.
Jisung was also in the picture. His nose was scrunched up fondly as Luna was next to his face, both looking as if they're best friends taking a selfie.
No one should look like this after, presumably, having just woken up.
Minho is a simple man, so if he stared at the picture a little longer and possibly saved it, who can blame him really?
—
Destiny is a cruel, cruel thing. Minho nearly forgot about it.
He remembers it on a bright Wednesday morning, icing Jisung's knee after he badly bruised it skateboarding.
He was proving he has mad skills that will impress his soulmate. And yet he sat here, under the shade of a tree while the rest of their friends were laughing in the distance.
Minho rolled his eyes fondly, accidentally having them fall on Jisung's hand.
Barren.
Destiny is cruel to those who want its blessing.
Not everyone has a soulmate, only about half the people do, their souls bound for multiple lifetimes, symbolized by that one delicate string tied to their fingers.
Minho nearly drops the ice pack.
Jisung's hand covers Minho, holding the ice pack firmer to the bruise. He winks when Minho looks up at him.
“Or maybe they can also tend to my future sprained ankles.”
—
Han Jisung (and Luna) become a common part of his day, the boy having slotted himself in like a cat in a box. Everywhere he goes, he sees him.
The library? He’s hiding under the table from his project partner. The park? He somehow got attacked by a pigeon while feeding it. He even once found him in the washroom at college, having somehow locked himself in a stall.
It’s scary how fast the boy weaved himself into Minho’s life, most likely unintentionally even for him. Minho can’t deny Han Jisung is growing on him.
But that’s Minho’s problem.
So, if Minho is starting to appreciate the stars now, that's none of his business.
It's also none of his business how he's sitting on the top of the roof entrance, the same roof they now often stargaze on, Jisung having held his hand when he got too scared to get up there all on his own. Jisung had looked down at him with an encouraging smile. Suddenly the distance between them felt so much further, so long that Minho scrambled up to sit on the ledge with him, just to shorten it.
And it's definitely no one's business when Jisung lost his balance, nearly falling off their little ledge and Minho's body reacting before he thinks, his hand securely wrapping around the other's waist to pull him back.
If Minho’s heart beat just a little louder when Jisung looked at him with a gentle thankful smile, that’s his little secret.
And maybe Minho’s hand was still there, grip much softer now but neither boy was complaining. The weather is awfully cold.
"Jisung, there's no way that's Cassiopeia." Minho laughs, looking from the stars to the boy next to him, "You don't even know how to spell Cassiopeia."
Jisung gapes at him, affronted, "Hey, I'm an English major!"
"You type you as y, e, w." Minho smirks.
"That has nothing to do with my literary prowess!" Jisung knocks his shoulder with Minho, only making him giggle harder
"Plus,” he adds in a mumble, “I didn't say I was top student..."
His lips are jutted out in his signature adorable pout, cherry pink from how he keeps biting them all day when thinking. Mentally, Minho reaches out to press down on it with his thumb. He tries not to think about how soft they are.
“ Mrow? ”
"Hey, Luna," Minho picks up one of her paws with two fingers like a handshake, "Your dad is full of shit."
The void coloured kitty blinks at him in a strangely Jisung-ish way. Minho's heart was getting warmer.
"Now, why are you corrupting my daughter with lies?”
Minho ignores him, scratching Luna's little chin, "He named you Luna and still never bothered to open an astronomy book in his life!”
Luna purrs, closing her eyes as if agreeing with him.
Jisung huffs beside him, Minho smiling to himself, “ You guys are bullies.”
Luna hops over Minho's lap, settling on Jisung's other side with so much stretching and moving that Jisung scoots closer to Minho to make space.
Who is Minho to deny her, winking at her as he pulls Jisung closer by the waist.
“It's getting horribly chilly these days.” Jisung's cheeks are a shade redder.
Minho thinks it's the perfect weather.
—
Minho buys an Astronomy for Beginners book the next day.
He doesn't miss the way Jisung smiles at him when he points to the five stars in a W that make Cassiopeia, but he chooses to ignore it for his own sake.
When he looks back at Jisung with a proud smile, expecting a snarky remark, Jisung is already looking at him.
"That one's my favourite.”
Somehow Minho knows what he means.
—
Minho taps his pencil against the book. It's been open to the same page for exactly 24 minutes. He still hasn't read a word.
“Hey,” he bites his lip. Is this a good idea? “Felix?”
“Ugh, finally,” Felix slams his own book shut, the noise gaining him several hushes from the other students in the library. He waves them off, “I thought you'd break your jaw from how you can't fucking spit it out already.”
Minho's eyes widened at being caught. Felix leans closer across the table, arms crossed over his book, completely forgotten.
“You've been stewing in your thoughts since we got here. Did something happen?” he smirks slowly, leaning closer and looking at Minho with knowing eyes.
“Or is this about whoever is stealing you off every other evening after classes?” Minho knew this was a bad idea.
He can feel the blood rushing to his ears. He shuffles in his seat, putting on the most blank expression he can manage, “I actually part time as a stripper.”
“Take me there then, I've been dying to shove ones in your panties.” Felix narrows his eyes. Minho should've known it wouldn't work.
Minho looks at his hand, tapping his pencil a couple more times, “I was just,” he bites his cheek, “...reading this story, right?”
“Right…” Felix doesn’t believe him for a second, he knows that already.
“I was just,” he shrugs, risking a glance up at Felix through his eyelashes, “wondering how this whole string tying thing works…”
Felix’s eyes soften, smiling reassuringly at Minho as he lightly touches the hand that keeps fidgeting with the pencil.
“What do you want to know about?” His voice is kind now, all teasing long-forgotten.
“How do you guys do this?” Minho sits up, his feelings slowly flooding his voice, “How are you not more terrified of this whole thing?”
Felix’s thumb runs gentle strokes against his skin, “To be honest, I was terrified.”
“Bullshit,” Minho huffs, “You’ve been asking for it since you got your string like a kid for a unicorn.”
Felix rolls his eyes, “I was .” He offers a bittersweet smile, “The soul bond is an incredible thing but the risks would terrify anyone.”
“But,” Felix pouts, “I always knew I wanted it anyway. Call me destiny's puppet, but I always felt the risk was worth the gain.”
Minho bites his cheek, “How the hell could you know if a person is worth that much .” His voice felt meek even in his throat.
“You’re not gonna be left all alone in the dark, it's…hard to explain. But you'll know when the decision is right.” Felix’s caresses are somewhat grounding Minho, “The fates don't hate us, as much as it might seem.”
Minho turns his hand, holding onto Felix's, “Was Seungmin worth it? Before he matched?”
“God,” Felix laughs, holding onto Minho’s hand tighter, “String or not, I think I would've bled out at his doorstep if he asked.”
Minho cracks a small smile. His chest still feels heavy. “That's awfully dramatic.”
Felix shrugs, “I can't imagine a life without him. Couldn't before we tied too. So what was the point of it anyway if we didn't match?”
“I took my time, yes,” Felix looks down wistfully, “but not because I wasn't sure. You know Minnie, I wanted him to be sure too. I would've waited an eternity for him.”
Eternity. That's an awful long time. Maybe Minho will know things in one eternity too.
Minho's string was tingling again.
He couldn't bring himself to close his fist this time.
—
The scales of destiny longed to always be balanced. The blessings of a soul bond tipped them way too much on one side. It was a beautiful, magical thing.
Naturally, the risks to balance it were just as heavy.
An untied string gives you a choice. But the universe is never that lenient. Nor is it that kind.
When the string is tied, the souls have to “match”, as people call it. Both souls have to want the other just as much, even a shred of doubt or hesitation would lead to a tear in the threads as it weaves - a tear in their fate. No soul bond can be complete if the one doesn’t yearn for the other like a part of them.
If the souls don’t match, fate punishes their Chosen Ones. The children of destiny. That’s it for them - never will they be able to match again - a piece of their soul now given away in the incomplete bond.
An incomplete soul couldn’t survive - that was it for them. An end brought about by heartbreak.
—
“Jisung, it’s 2:43 PM.” Minho puts his hands on his hips, bag nearly slipping off his shoulder, “I haven’t even digested my lunch yet, you cannot possibly be considering a life of thievery right now.”
Jisung squeaks, nearly losing his balance on the rickety fire escape he was on, the whole thing shaking with the movement. He whips around, clutching his camera to his heart.
“Jesus Christ, you scared me!” Minho wants to laugh at the way his wide eyes and panting make him look like a paranoid chipmunk, “I thought I was getting busted.”
Minho raises an eyebrow, “You are.”
“Yeah, by you,” Jisung tilts his head with a coy smile, “If I go down, I’m dragging you with me, stalker.”
Something about the weather made Minho not want to attend the rest of his afternoon classes today. It was just the right amount of cloudy, cool sleepy breezes blowing that calmed everyone’s mood. Exactly sweater weather. He yearned to go home and relax, maybe watch something.
Of course he saw Jisung climbing the old barely-hanging-on fire escape of a dingy apartment on the way. Why wouldn’t he be doing that, in fact.
His bag was thrown on the floor, near where Minho is standing now, because surely no one would steal this master thief’s belongings. He had a polaroid camera, pointing it at God knows what on the roof of the building, too far for Minho to see.
“Why are you breaking into some poor dude’s house, Jisung.” He wanted to watch Weathering with You, not Dumb Ways to Die: Idiotic Crime Edition.
“Oh please, no one lives here,” Jisung rolls his eyes, glancing behind towards what he was pointing his camera at. “And I wasn’t stealing, I was trying to take pictures!”
Minho scrunches his nose, “So you’re not a thief, you're a pervert.”
“I’m a romantic, Tin Man.”
“Pretty sure it's still a crime no matter what you call it, Scarecrow.”
Jisung stomps his foot with a huff, immediately regretting it when the fire escape shakes aggressively again. “Not of people. ”
Minho’s face sours more, “Of underw-”
“Don’t finish that thought.” Minho gives his best cat-like smile.
“Look,” Jisung turns back around, pointing up to the roof. Minho can hear the awed smile in his voice when he speaks, “Isn’t she pretty?”
A magpie. Her wings were a stunning shade of azure, not that uncommon but definitely still a sight to behold. She was gently arranging her feathers, gracefully ignoring the man bothering her on this relaxing afternoon. She looked like she jumped out of Chinese scriptures, like she was here to spin a story too.
Minho glanced at Jisung, the man still staring at the bird with an excited smile. His wonder was contagious. Minho smiled to himself too.
“Stunning.”
Jisung looks over his shoulder to direct his smile at Minho. The cloudy afternoon sky was a beautiful backdrop. Minho remembers to breathe.
The bird chirps, Jisung hurriedly whipping back around to snap a shot. The traitor stairs creak once again at the movement, shaking violently enough for the bird to finally notice his presence.
Maybe magpies just aren't expressive enough, but she doesn’t seem annoyed. She looks at Jisung carefully for a whole second, before squawking once and flying off.
“No!” Jisung starts running down the stairs, dropping his polaroid so it dangles off his neck and frequently checking back towards the sky in the direction it flew in, “Hyung, we have to follow her!”
“Jisung, what-” Minho was already grabbing Jisung’s bag off the ground.
Jisung grabs his wrist when he reaches him, looking at him with urgent pleading eyes, “I didn’t get my picture!”
This is never how Minho imagined he’d be spending a relaxing afternoon but nowadays he’s starting to expect the insane, embrace it in fact. Because as Jisung drags him towards some unknown end, definitely a stupid idea, Minho finds himself not resisting to follow.
The bird is flying close to the ground, stopping at intervals as if she wants to be followed. Jisung was running with his eyes glued to the skies, so Minho carefully maneuvers him with gentle touches. He was simply not looking to visit a hospital today, nothing much.
She flies over a caged fence into what Minho assumes is private property, maybe not that eager to be followed after all. Jisung slows to a halt in front of the fence, looking up at the sky where she flew, and Minho knows before he says anything.
The fence was tall, but thankfully not lined with barbed wires. He couldn't see what’s inside, bushes and trees pressed against the fence blocking the view - it was possibly the back of some property, not meant to be looked at from this side.
Minho sighed, kneeling down before Jisung could even turn around.
“Hyung-”
“Yeah, yeah,” he laces his fingers together into a makeshift platform, “I’ll give you a boost.”
Jisung’s resulting smile was almost blinding, the man wasting no time in grabbing Minho’s shoulder for balance and hoisting himself up over the fence.
Once over, he presses his face against the fence with a classic hamster pout, “But how will hyungie get in?”
Minho laughs, poking his cheeks through the face and turning the pout angry in return. He throws the bags over, then looks around before dragging a trash can over.
He huffs, prays to his dancer athleticism to not fail him now, before climbing the fence, kicking off of the trashcan for a boost and successfully hurling himself over it.
Jisung jumps excitedly once he lands, visibly impressed. Minho doesn’t get to rest his old bones though, because immediately, Jisung is grabbing him again to drag him past the foliage.
Minho was expecting an open field, maybe someone’s back lawn, most likely with a dog that will immediately rip them to shreds knowing his luck.
It opens to a garden. Not just someone’s backyard plants and hobby garden, it was the most magnificent array of flowers and bushes, arranged in a carefully planned layout.
It was straight out of fairytale books. The garden stretched long in length, the trees placed in patterns so you have some secluded areas like the one they were in now. But it also made it hard to see just how long it went - hard to tell the exact chances of them getting in some serious trouble.
“Hyung,” But that didn’t matter anymore.
The sky was too overcast. Jisung looked too happy when he looked over at him.
Jisung grabbed his arm, buzzing with excitement but speaking in a hushed whisper, “Look!”
The Magpie. Minho nearly forgot about her. She was perched delicately on top of a dahlia, standing out in stunning blue among the array of pink flowers in full bloom.
She wasn’t alone. He heard Jisung’s breath catch next to him.
Another magpie, just as pretty as the first, nudged her neck. The two chirped between them happily, as if catching up after a long day, and suddenly Minho felt like he was invading something intimate.
Jisung raised his camera just as the birds nuzzled their heads against each other's, the new one starting to pick at the other's feathers as if fretting over her.
Minho may not understand what they mean, but when he looks over at Jisung, picking a stray leaf from his fluffy hair, he gets it.
Jisung looks at him with that same excited smile, waving the polaroid in his hand to develop it. He looks like he just won a million dollars. Minho would get him an entire zoo if he asked, but instead Jisung just giggles, skipping off to take more photos of the garden now.
Minho doesn’t get a lot of things about Han Jisung. He doesn’t get how he seems to always find himself toeing the line to death and then skipping back happily. He doesn’t get how he finds it so easy to follow his heart, going wherever his whim takes him. He doesn’t get how he finds the beauty in small things like magpies on rooftops and pokémon in constellations.
He especially doesn’t get how he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the boy. The sun wasn’t shining but he looked radiant - Minho could swear every flower in the garden bent a little towards him.
Minho touches the soft petals of a carnation - certainly turned in the direction of the garden Jisung was in. Minho understands. That’s the thing with him nowadays. He’s starting to understand.
It was easy to get lost in viewing the flowers, they were relaxing to the eyes. The weather added to the mood too - it just felt like one of those days you see in a movie. The magpies were happy to ignore them, lost in their own little bubble, casting curious glances at Minho every so often.
“Minho-hyung!” He spins around, Jisung is shouting from the opposite side of the garden, his huge grin hidden behind the camera he was holding up to his eye.
Click.
Jisung lowers his camera, taking the developed photo but not looking at it
He hasn’t broken eye contact since, walking closer to Minho, his grin growing softer by the inch. Minho yearns to close the distance, but it feels imperial to stay put.
He holds the photo up when he reaches him, looking down at it with a fond smile. Minho can’t see it from in front of him - he wonders if he looks at Jisung the same way that he is now.
"I was wasting my time,” Jisung puts the photo in the pocket of his shirt, close to his heart, finally looking up at Minho, “You’re prettier than any bird or flower here.”
Standing here, surrounded by carnations and dahlias as Jisung looks up at him with eyes that shine with the brightness of all his favourite constellations - Minho thinks that Han Jisung is a liar.
It's when the first drop of rain hits Minho’s hand, that Jisung tears a jasmine from the shrub next to them.
When the second drop hits Minho’s cheek, Jisung puts the flower in Minho’s hair, stroking his hair back gently to make space for the present. Minho’s neck tingles where Jisung’s hand brushes it, lingering for a moment as if hesitant to let go.
Jisung’s eyes are honest, staring into Minho’s as if he’s seeing beyond the millions of lies he has told himself. As if he’s seeing Minho for the first and last time.
"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen.”
It was when the third drop hit Minho’s lip that he stopped fighting destiny.
Jisung isn’t surprised when Minho closes the short distance he left, pliantly closing his eyes when Minho’s lips touch him. It was like he was expecting it. Minho curses himself for keeping him waiting.
Kissing Han Jisung feels like every other part of him - burning, radiant, yet calming. Addictive. His lips are molded perfectly against Minho’s, softer than he imagined, tasting distinctly like the first rays of sun after a harsh winter. Minho wouldn’t make art inspired by this. Every cell of his body screamed to keep this to himself.
Minho touches his cheek, Jisung leaning into the caress like he was dying to be held, like Minho’s touch mattered more to him than air right now. He snuck his arms around Minho’s neck and Minho finally understood everything now.
Jisung fit him like he was made for him. Like the universe split them apart from the same shape like puzzle pieces. Or maybe Minho was made for Jisung. Either way, he curses the one responsible for the separation because right now, with the feeling of Jisung’s fingers softly carding through his hair at the nape of his neck, with the warmth soft skin under his palm, with the taste of sunny mornings and rainy afternoons on his tongue - Minho thinks he cannot live a second apart from him anymore.
The rain is pouring down when they finally part, Jisung taking a piece of Minho with him but leaving a part of himself with the way he smiles against his lips. This makes sense. The words didn’t need to be said.
When a light of a torch shines down on them from the far left of the garden, they barely remember to feel panicked. Grabbing the forgotten - now drenched - bags off the ground, they manage to haul themselves back over the garden fence. A much harder task now with the way they were laughing. But the security guard (presumably) doesn’t have to be privy to this little moment.
Jisung looks at him with eyes Minho wants to drown in again, now that he has tasted what it would feel like. He walks towards him with the same soft smile again and Minho’s insides burn with light.
He touches Minho’s cheek and he realises that he can breathe again. Han Jisung just has that effect on him.
Jisung kisses his cheek like he was as delicate as the carnations. Just a lingering brush of his lips before he was moving back again, retreating completely now.
As he leaves, his bag now slung on his shoulder, he looks back just like every time they part. Except his grin is replaced by a gentle smile this time and he doesn’t shout.
“See you soon, Minho.”
Minho didn’t even notice when he gained his heart.
—
The construction on the road to Minho’s house is done - but for some reason Minho still takes the long way home.
The bridge is as serene as ever, the water still flowing gently below, uncaring of the world above it. Minho feels its calmness today.
Jisung sits on the railing just as expected, swinging his legs the same way he was the first day they met. They didn’t tell each other, they never had to. Minho just knew.
He smiles softly when his eyes meet Minho's - still way too long a distance between them - and suddenly he's leaning back slowly, off the bridge and towards his watery death.
Minho doesn’t lie to himself about the tug he feels today. His hand wraps around Jisung’s before he could go far, pulling him back in. Face to face, Jisung’s soft smile not moving an inch. Minho is obsessed.
It feels right, like the puzzle finally clicking back in place when Minho ties the string to his ring finger, never once breaking eye contact. A gentle wind blows. The universe just smiled.
It floods his system with a warm glow, they both look down at the same time as the string tangles itself securely, a bold green now creeping up the calm pink, weaving itself in its threads - in Minho's life. Felix was right, as usual.
When their eyes meet again, Jisungs smile curls wider. Minho feels at peace.
"Finally." Jisung winks, "Got you."
The choice of destiny is an illusion.
Because at the end of the day, all roads lead to Han Jisung.