Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It takes about five steps into his new school for Han Jisung to feel as though he’s being watched.

His middle school had been smaller, made of nice wooden tones and teachers who greeted him in passing. But this new school was gigantic, and as he walked through it, there were eyes everywhere. It should have creeped him out, but instead it filled him with a deep sense of isolation. 

In English class, he leaned over to the girl sitting to his left.
“Hi,” he whispered. “I’m Jisung.”
Jisung personally thought he was being friendly, but the girl gave him a look and replied, “I have a boyfriend already, sorry."

Well, there goes Jisung’s mood. His polite smile turned into a scowl and he sat normally again, giving her a side eye. Getting close to her like that wasn’t his intention at all. Why did everything have to revolve around romance? Can’t a guy just talk to the girl sitting next to him without it having a double meaning? 

When the bell rang, he was more than happy to stand up and leave that boring and unwelcoming English classroom. Besides the snooty girl he sat next to, the teacher, Mrs. Choi, had talked for forty-five minutes straight and almost put Jisung to sleep. 

Jisung fumbled with a piece of paper in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled-up schedule. He unfolded it and his eyes scanned down to his fourth class. He sighed when he saw it. Gym, his least favorite. He wasn’t the athletic type, and it made him want to throw up when he thought about doing those fitness tests and having everyone’s eyes on him. 

He decided after a moment that since he was almost an adult, he would man up and face his fears. So he walked towards the gymnasium. The throng of students began to thin out as the crowd narrowed down to just the students heading to the gym with Jisung. He glanced around at them discreetly, trying to get a feel on if anyone was interesting or seemed friendly. He suppressed a sigh when he saw almost every single one of them either on their phones or already chatting with someone else. 

All of Jisung’s internal pep-talks flew out the window when he put his feet on the threshold of the gymnasium and saw what was going on inside. The teachers were laying out things like agility ladders and yoga balls and spaces marked off with cones. It must be an evaluation of some kind. Jisung couldn’t stop the wave of nausea that hit him when he imagined himself participating in it; making a fool of himself jumping across the agility ladders and trying to do yoga and running. He decided that he would rather die. So he turned around and walked right back to where he came from – the main school building.

Just inside the doors there was a bathroom. He decided to duck into there, since there was nowhere else to go. Jisung thanked his lucky stars that it was completely empty and walked to the very last stall, which had the number seven marked on the outside of the door. He stepped inside and sat on the toilet, pulling out his phone to mindlessly scroll for a while. He didn’t bother closing the door, since he didn’t need to actually pee. 

Jisung took back his gratitude to the stars when he scrolled through what must have been twenty short-form videos and none of them were interesting enough for him to stay and watch. He turned off his phone with a sigh – he kind of hated that thing anyway – and looked around. The tile walls were off-white and blank. It was bothering him, how it felt so… clean, untarnished – nothing like him.

So, he took matters into his own hands. He fished out a Sharpie from his backpack and stood up, uncapping it and wrinkling his nose at the sharp smell before pressing the felt tip to the wall. He drew spirals and stars to fill the spaces. After a few minutes, he became uncomfortable with the silence in the bathroom and put his earbuds in, relaxing when melodies began to course through the wires and into his ears. As he listened, he wrote the lyrics on the wall that stuck out to him, the song titles and a note of “Everyone should listen to Ariana Grande’s newest album.”  He was promoting her better than her own PR team, he decided proudly.

 Jisung became lost in his own little universe, as he tended to do. The real world discomforted him and made him feel lost in the shortest hallways. People took in the things he had to say with confusion as if he were speaking a foreign language. Nobody seemed to consider that he was just sixteen and trying to figure out how to exist. So he escaped to secret gardens in his mind; or in places like this where nobody could find or disturb him. He let his hand move freely, the lines and words taking shape under his abstract and mindless jurisdiction. 

Jisung almost didn’t notice when the door to the bathroom swung open and someone walked in. He only registered it when said person entered his peripheral vision, and he flinched so hard that he fell back on his ass. Once he recovered himself, he stared wide-eyed at the newcomer. A boy who seemed about Jisung’s age, maybe a little older, with a thin layer of smudged eyeliner and eyes that seemed to pierce through Jisung and leave him bare. 

They held a staring contest for about thirty seconds before Jisung squeaked out a sentence. “I, um, didn’t see you there.” The boy blinked slowly, taking in the words and forming his own response. “I didn’t expect you to.”

Awkward silence settled over them. Jisung fidgeted with his Sharpie, wondering why this random boy was just standing there and staring at him instead of leaving to do his own business. He kept his eyes on the newcomer, slightly wary, as time stretched on and he still made no move to leave. He watched as the boy’s eyes traveled slowly over the wall Jisung had begun to draw on. 

“What is that?” The boy asked, pointing to Jisung’s scribbles. Jisung felt his face get a little hot. He wasn’t embarrassed, no, not quite – it just felt so very intrusive, somehow, for somebody to see the art he had birthed into the world. He should not feel this way, especially since he was the one who decided to vandalize a public school restroom, but for some reason answering felt like it would be the equivalent of telling this stranger the secrets he held closest to his heart.

He flicked out his tongue to wet his lips that had gone dry. “I… they’re just doodles. And… I was listening to music, so I, uh, wrote the lyrics.” He didn’t know why he was expecting a response, but he did not get one. The strange boy just nodded and turned away to leave, probably to attend to the business that he came to the bathroom for in the first place. Jisung finally let himself breathe again once that suffocatingly sharp gaze was no longer on him. He sat properly on the toilet and looked at his wall of art. Despite it essentially being a whole lot of nothing, he couldn’t help but feel proud. He had left a little piece of himself, of whimsy, on a blank canvas. Blank canvases scared him. Anything that was left too clean intimidated him to no end. Which was why he marked up the wall, to taint that pristine look and give it flaws.

Jisung tried to stay quiet but he felt awkward listening to a stranger take a piss, so he put his earbuds in again and turned up his music. Kim Daniel’s soothing voice washed over him and he let black ink take the form of the words “how could my day be bad when i’m with you?” on the tile. His handwriting wasn’t exactly exemplary, but it seemed utterly crude compared to the romantic words he had let himself write.

“What song is that?”
A voice from Jisung’s left scared the wits out of him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He forcefully tore his earbud out by the wire and set his jaw, snapping his gaze toward that mysterious boy from earlier, who had returned to Jisung’s stall. 

“Why do you keep sneaking up on me?” Jisung demanded. The boy’s blank expression didn’t change or falter in the slightest as he looked Jisung in the eye. It was unnerving this time, too. “I’m not.” The boy eventually replied. “You just have zero spatial awareness.”

Maybe it was meant to be lighthearted, but the flat tone made Jisung bristle. “I do have spatial awareness, thank you. I just don’t expect to be visited while I’m sitting in a stall with my earbuds in. Why would you talk to someone when their ears aren’t available for listening?” He shot back, getting all riled up. The boy tilted his head. 

“But you heard me,” he countered. “So your ears were available after all.” 

This was beginning to make Jisung really angry. What was this guy’s problem? His cool, nonchalant attitude just made it worse. He wasn’t even trying to be funny, it was just his personality. It pissed Jisung off to no end. 

“You never answered my question,” the boy reminded him, interrupting any scathing response that may or may not have been about to leave Jisung’s mouth. His answer came in the form of a scowl and a begrudging, “it’s wave to earth. Figure the song out yourself.” 

The boy didn’t get upset or press for answers, he just stared at Jisung evenly. And somehow, Jisung crumbled faster under that steady, penetrative gaze. “Um. The song is called bad.”

He let out a sigh when the stranger nodded and leaned back, crossing his arms. After a beat or six of uncomfortable silence, Jisung spoke again. “Um…so, what’s your name? Mine’s Han Jisung.”

For a moment, it seemed like the boy was not going to respond, and Jisung was about to give up and pretend he wasn’t there. But then, he spoke with that same even tone. “Lee Minho. I’m a junior.”

So he was a bit older. Suddenly, he seemed even more intimidating. “Oh. That’s cool. I, uh, I’m a freshman.” Jisung replied, feeling a little bit sheepish now.
Minho just nodded at him. “Ah.” 

So… that was that, Jisung figured. He watched Minho turn away and wash his hands before dipping his head slightly to Jisung and then leave. 

Jisung thought Minho was weird, but he shrugged it off. They’d probably never cross paths ever again, and this strange encounter would just become one of those things he talked about while knitting blankets in the nursing home. The caretaker would offer a polite ‘is that so?’ and Jisung would insist that Lee Minho had the eyes of a dragon. He would be wheeled off to his bed and take a nap, and he would eventually die.

Jisung didn’t want a stranger to be the subject of the last story he ever told, so he shook his head and tried to forget about it.

Sixteen year old Han Jisung could never have predicted that Minho would not let him forget. 

Chapter Text

Jisung swore to himself that he would never set foot in gym class. He simply refused. Every time he checked his grade portal and saw the number decrease, he could not bring himself to care. He replaced fourth period with a visit to his special bathroom, specifically stall seven. He had filled up almost nine tiles on the wall with drawings and words by now. 

On the fourth day of school, he wrote on the tiles “I would rather sleep with a hydrogen bomb in my arms than go to PE!!” and underlined it three times. Just the thought of putting himself out there and doing jumping jacks, where other kids would see, was mortifying and he quickly drew a few spiral patterns to distract himself. 

This time, Jisung heard the door of the restroom open. He stood up to shut the door of his stall, but paused when he saw who had entered. His eyes met hauntingly sharp ones and he felt like he was being pinned against the wall. He blinked rapidly and dipped his head in greeting before closing the door and shutting himself inside the stall.

Minho used another stall before flushing the toilet and washing his hands. Then, he walked to stall seven and knocked on it. His voice, clear and just loud enough for Jisung to hear him, came through the door. “Can I see your drawings?” 

Jisung’s heart flipped. Not because he was a little schoolgirl developing a crush, but because the idea of somebody inspecting his artwork made his stomach a bit queasy. He was silent for a couple moments before he replied. “They’re kind of personal.”

Jisung could have sworn he heard the faintest trace of a laugh from the other side. “Then why did you draw them in a public space?” A question that made embarrassment heat up his cheeks. He really didn’t know why he had thought it was a good idea to let his mind loose on a wall where anyone could see. The thought of a random guy wandering into his stall and seeing his drawings made Jisung want to tape it off and padlock it. 

“Fine, then.” Jisung relented, and he opened the door. He came face to face with Minho, and for a moment his lungs wouldn’t take in oxygen. His brown eyes met Minho’s dark ones, and Jisung became aware that they had a slight height difference. His pride was slightly wounded, but he stepped aside and allowed Minho to scrutinize his art.

For Jisung, Minho wasn’t just looking at doodles. He was viewing Jisung’s brain, spectating as if it were put on display in a lab, being studied. The inner workings of his mind revealed themselves on this wall, from the messy drawings to the lyrics that spoke to him and words that he longed to hear someday. Maybe someday, someone would speak of him the same way Frank Sinatra sang of his lovers. 

While Minho looked at his drawings, Jisung looked at him. He tried not to stare, but Minho was, frankly, objectively attractive, so you couldn’t really blame him for it. He noticed the piercings on Minho’s right ear and the nose ring on the same side. The black nail polish on his fingers made Jisung kind of want to do the same thing. His dark hair fanned across his forehead in a way that was just a bit messy, but not unkempt. Jisung found he liked looking at Minho, and then shook his head because –– wow, that’s a weird thing to think about a stranger. 

Minho, to Jisung’s surprise, did not ask questions. He simply observed and looked at everything intently, and then thanked Jisung. If the younger boy was surprised by Minho’s lack of intrusive questions, he was doubled over when Minho sat down . On the floor of stall number seven, Lee Minho sat down and looked at his phone. His back rested against the wall and Jisung sat down on the toilet, staring at him. 

Minho did not ask him awkward and pointless questions like “how was your day” or “what’s your favorite class so far”, but instead the first words that left his mouth were “do you listen to IU?” Jisung’s interest was piqued and he replied that of course he does, everyone loves IU. 

They spoke about music, and their shared dislike for English, and when Jisung told Minho he had Mrs. Choi, Minho hummed in sympathy and said that he had her freshman year too. Said it was good for character development and it built patience. Jisung said he didn’t really like this school, and Minho agreed with him.

Quiet settled between them, but this time Jisung found he didn’t quite mind. It wasn’t stiff and it wasn’t full of them trying to think of something else to say. Jisung continued with his doodles on the wall and Minho stared at his phone screen. Then, without even thinking of saying the words, Jisung asked him a question. “Do you ever feel like you’re not real until you’re alone?”

For some reason, Minho didn’t answer. He was silent, not even a hum. His eyes narrowed slightly, and Jisung couldn’t tell if he was just thinking or if he was getting defensive. Jisung wondered if he had misread the situation and thought it more laid back than it really was. He glanced at Minho, feeling his chest start to get tight. 

A moment of nervous silence ticked by until eventually, Minho replied with one word: “yes.”

Jisung looked up from his doodles that had become anxious scribbles and stared at Minho. He was so inexplicably relieved that he had gotten an answer, and it delighted him. He didn’t smile or say so, though, and kept cool and casual. Nonchalant. “You do?”

“Yes, I do,” came the reply, followed by Minho’s hand reaching toward Jisung. For a split second, fear gripped the younger boy and he almost stood up to bolt. But then his eyes fell upon Minho’s fingers, and the small object hanging between his pointer and middle finger. Half-orange, half-white. 

Jisung raised his eyebrows. “A cigarette?” He asked, gingerly taking it, careful not to let their skin touch. Minho nodded. “Yes, a cigarette.”

“I’ve never smoked.” Jisung told him lamely.
Minho shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Minho didn’t tease him. He just held a lighter out like it was no big deal. Jisung wasn’t sure if it was some kind of peace offering, or if it was just meant to look cool. Either way, it made the pressure building in his chest loosen. 

He thought it was a little scary, but he didn’t want to seem like a coward, so he took a lighter from Minho and carefully lit it. Thankfully, they weren’t underneath a fire alarm, or else it might have gone off.

Once he figured out how to puff the cigarette, he found that he didn’t really hate it. After he coughed on it a few times, the nicotine eventually soothed his nerves and made him relax. His eyes lingered on the cigarette hanging from Minho’s mouth for a moment before he asked if he'd ever tried fish ice cream. 

Their topics ranged from outer space to earth, the ocean to the sky. Weird and maybe a bit uncomfortable to a normal person, but comforting to the disturbed. And for Jisung and Minho, a pair of teenage boys who appeared cooler than they actually were, it was a moment of solace from a society that turned them away like outcasts. 

They spoke about nothing at all –– nothing important, nothing deep.  But to Jisung, it felt like everything. 

Chapter Text

It only took three weeks for Minho and Jisung to reach an unspoken understanding that stall number seven, in the bathroom closest to the gym, was theirs. They’d already marked up about a quarter of the wall, the sharp scent of Sharpie emanating from it long after the ink had dried. Minho’s small, stylistic scrawl next to Jisung’s messy and careless sentences formed Q&A’s, song lyrics, little comments that they were too scared to say out loud. “Did you get a haircut?” “I like your new shoes.” “Your hair looks light brown under the light.” “Your name is satisfying to say.”  Words that they thought were pretty and their definitions underneath, spirals and random scribbles and songs that were stuck in their heads. 

Jisung was no longer intimidated by Minho, and he started to appreciate his presence. In his head – but never out loud – he put Minho into the ‘friend’ category. The only person in that list. They could joke around with each other, but only a little bit, because Jisung was afraid that if he laughed too loud or made too niche of a punchline, Minho would start to think he was weird. Luckily, a universal thing that all high school boys found funny were dick drawings, so Jisung had no problem drawing an oval and two circles on the tile and Minho had no problem laughing quietly when he saw it. 

Minho rarely talked about himself, so Jisung didn’t talk about himself either. When the topic was on him for more than a minute, he immediately felt like the most selfish bastard in the world, even if Minho was the one who asked him in the first place. So their topics stuck mostly to surface-level things like hobbies and which artists they liked and where they wanted to go on vacation. 

On Thursday, Minho showed up to the bathroom with an overly casual “hey.” An attempt to divert Jisung’s worry from the cut on his lip. But as naive as he may be, Jisung was not stupid or blind. He stared at Minho for a moment before hopping down from on top of the toilet and walking so he stood in front of the taller boy. “What happened to you?” he asked, his brows furrowed in concern. It should have struck him with fear that he felt so worried for someone else in the first place, but he wasn’t thinking about himself right now. For the first time, he felt like taking care of someone else’s safety before his own. 

That sentiment was dashed the moment Minho shrugged his shoulders and looked away. He crossed his arms – an oversight, because now Jisung noticed a few bruises on them. “Nothing happened. Just tripped.” 

For some reason, Minho’s careless dismissal of his state was infuriating to Jisung. He clenched his fists, feeling something press tight inside his chest. “Minho,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “Clearly, something happened. Can you just– talk to me for once? I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

Minho’s gaze snapped back toward Jisung, and this time Jisung felt a flicker of anxiety. Minho looked calm, but his jaw was set a bit tighter than normal. Jisung tried not to back down. He was nervous, yeah, but he was also upset and he wanted to stand his ground. He had rarely ever let himself stand up in defense of his own words before, but he had come to care for Minho quite a bit so he wanted this to be the time where things were different. 

“I said what I said. Minho, don’t pretend like I can’t see what’s right in front of me.” Jisung demanded, meeting Minho’s gaze even if all he wanted was to flinch away. Minho looked at him evenly.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Then tell me. For once, let me know what’s going on!” Jisung exclaimed, frustration bubbling up in his throat. His face felt hot. 

Minho scoffed at him dismissively. “Why would I? You don’t know anything, Jisung, why do you even care?” 

As soon as the harsh words left Minho’s mouth, a tense and deathly silence fell over the restroom. Jisung stared at him, his mouth slightly open, and a pressure building in his throat. He ignored the heat behind his eyes. 

Minho opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but Jisung walked past him and pulled open the door, then slammed it behind him. He ran down the hallway and ducked into another bathroom. This one was empty. He found the last stall, locked it behind him, and sat with his knees pulled up to his chest. The walls here were blank – no spirals, no lyrics. No proof that anyone had ever been there. 

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Jisung never cried. He would not cry. He buried his face in his knees and tried not to look at the walls.

If Jisung thought he was hurt when their stall was empty the day after, then he had no idea what was coming. He saw Minho in the hallway on his walk to chemistry, and he stared right at him, but Minho kept his gaze on the other side of the hall and walked right past. Jisung could tell it was purposeful. 

His only friend – someone he trusted – was ignoring him on purpose. Jisung almost cried right there in the middle of the hallway, surrounded by people that would film him and post it on social media with ridiculous captions. But he clung onto the hope that maybe Minho really didn’t see him, that he would have looked at Jisung if he did. It was delusional, but it was the explanation that hurt the least.

However, Jisung never was afforded the luxury of choosing the explanation that hurt him the least. Not even this time. He retreated to stall seven in third period, because he was simply too upset to listen to Mrs. Choi drone about grammar rules and synonyms. He leaned his head against the wall and sat on the floor, not caring that it was definitely gross. 

Jisung looked at their drawings, and his heart hurt. It was a secret language he couldn’t speak with anyone else, and he wondered if janitors would someday paint over these crude doodles and seemingly meaningless words that had once made up a sixteen year old boy’s entire world. 

The door of the restroom swung open. Jisung jumped, and a little string of hope wormed into his brain. It wasn’t fourth period, but maybe he had decided to come here earlier like Jisung had. He peeked around the corner of his stall and his breath caught in his throat. Minho stopped in his tracks when they made eye contact, and Jisung was paralyzed for a moment before he scrambled to his feet. But as soon as he went to take a step forward, Minho turned and walked out of the door he had just entered from. He was so collected, so calm – 

Jisung stared after him, for a second he didn’t understand what had just happened. But slowly, he began to register it and his heart broke on its way down to his feet. Hot tears pressed at his eyes again but this time he didn’t try to stop them. Minho was definitely avoiding him. He must hate Jisung now, because Jisung decided to stubbornly stand his ground and press into business that wasn’t his. It wasn’t his place to pry about where Minho had gotten wounds from anyway, what was he thinking? His own audacity made him want to vomit.

Just in case he actually did throw up, he dragged his feet back into the stall and sank to the ground, resting his head on the toilet lid – unsanitary as it was, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. 

Maybe Jisung had ruined his only friendship in this school – all because he couldn’t mind his own goddamn business. Anger and anxiety curled in his chest. His throat got a bit tight and his breath shook when he exhaled. He felt like an idiot for caring this much about someone he had met only a month ago even though seeing that boy was the only light he could look forward to in the days that never seemed to cease in their suffocating darkness. Jisung didn’t consider himself someone who cried easily, but for some reason that’s all he felt like doing now.

Through all of the loathing he felt for himself and the desperation he felt for Minho, he had unconsciously reached for the Sharpie in his pocket. He brought it in hopes that he would end up drawing with Minho again, that they would apologize and move on. A naive hope in hindsight, but Jisung was so afraid of being left alone that he would get on his knees and shamelessly beg Minho to stay by his side if he was given the chance. 

His hand moved on his own, uncapping the marker shakily and bringing the tip up to the wall. He kept it there for a long time, his hand trembling and leaving a small, squiggly black line on the white tile. Eventually the squiggle turned into a line, and the line turned into a letter, the letter into a word. Jisung stared at the sentence he had written with a sense of dread and fear and shame.

I’m sorry. Come back. 

He almost threw up again, the disgusting display of vulnerability making him sick to his stomach. It’s not like he was that close with Minho anyway– what if this was too much? 

Something in him told him to keep it there anyway, but he was embarrassed. So he tried to scribble it out, but he only managed to blot out half of “back” before the marker ran out of ink. A groan of frustration left his lips. Now Minho would probably see it, and it would be a bit pathetic to admit he cared this much.

He would get by without the familiar face he looked forward to seeing toward the end of the day, and he would get by without someone to talk to. Jisung would not go to gym class, and he would not miss Minho if he did not come to the bathroom either. 

I’m sorry. Come back. 

Chapter Text

Jisung told himself that if Minho did not show up to the bathroom today, he wouldn’t either. He would never return to stall seven and he would tell a staff member that there was vandalism on the wall. It would be painted over with dreary white and erase the traces of what had begun to bloom. 

He sat with his legs crossed on top of the toilet seat, wondering if he was just making a fool of himself. After all, Minho probably wasn’t worked up over this at all. And he certainly hadn’t cried over it. 

A little bit overdramatic for a friendship that had started last month, but Jisung decided that his entire life was built on delusion anyway, so being obsessed with an upperclassman who he barely knew was okay. 

When the door to the bathroom quietly and slowly opened, Jisung jumped to his feet. He paused before he looked outside of the stall. What if it wasn’t Minho? Or worse, what if it was Minho, and he just ran away again? Jisung would never recover from that. 

If it was Minho, he would ask him why he ran away and he would say “You can’t tell me what to care about” and he would stand his ground. His chest felt like someone was placing bricks on it. 

Before he could chicken out, he took a breath, about to step out of the stall, but he froze again when he heard an achingly familiar and uncharacteristically hesitant voice ring against the walls. “Jisung? Are you in there?”

Jisung’s heart clenched in his chest. Maybe he had imagined the way Minho sounded a little nervous. In the time he’d known the older boy, Jisung had never seen nervousness on his face. 
He hoped that he didn’t imagine it, because that meant he was more than a speck of dust in Minho’s world, too.

“Yes,” he replied, wincing at how small his voice sounded. He stepped out of the stall, and he stood there awkwardly before he looked up and met Minho’s eyes. He swallowed. “Hi.”

Minho stared back at him and he opened and closed his mouth for a moment before he said, “hey.” 

Silence between them had never been awkward until now. They just stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Minho did not run away, and Jisung did not either. 

“I’m sorry.”

The words fell from Minho’s mouth abruptly, and he looked a little panicked and surprised as if he hadn’t planned to say that. The freshman blinked and floundered for a response for a moment, caught off guard, before he settled on “it’s okay.”

Minho shook his head, flexing his hands. “No. You– I didn’t mean to say that to you. You were just being nice, and I was… a jerk. Sorry.” Jisung felt like he might cry again. But this time, it wasn’t out of sadness. He offered Minho a little smile instead. “Well… thank you. I was also…I shouldn’t have pried. I’m sorry, too.”

He wanted to know, still, how that cut on Minho’s lip got there. Did it hurt? How much did it bleed? And what about those bruises? If they weren’t so deliberate looking, he would have believed the older boy when he was told that the wounds were from a fall.

Minho did not say any more words, he just went to wash his hands for no reason. Jisung understood, sort of, that this was Minho’s way of forgiving and asking to move on, so he accepted it and sat on the tank of the toilet. He took his Sharpie out and drew a star haphazardly. He never understood why it was so hard to draw a relatively simple five-pointed shape. 

When the faucet turned off, Minho joined Jisung in their stall, wiping his wet hands on his uniform carelessly. He took a Sharpie out of his own pocket and drew a star right beside Jisung’s. A small smile was shared between the two of them.

They were alright, then.

They drew and wrote on the wall for a few minutes before Minho got a faraway look in his eyes, absentmindedly pulling his marker along in a long squiggly line. Jisung thought he had something to say, so he kept quiet and gave him the space to speak if he wanted to. A few moments later, he actually did open his mouth.

“My lip… I got into a fight.”

Jisung’s hand stilled in the middle of drawing a crude cat. He looked at Minho, his eyes round. Something in his chest pricked. “I’m… sorry. Someone did that to you?” He asked, his voice soft and hesitant. Minho just nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Jisung said again. For some twisted reason, he found himself wishing he could relate, so he could offer a story of his own and make Minho feel less alone. He had never been the confrontational type, and would rather die than fistfight someone – it seemed a little embarrassing. But… Jisung didn’t think Minho was embarrassing. Maybe he’d try getting into a fight someday. 

Minho reached into his pocket and extended his hand to Jisung like he did the other day, and again, it contained a cigarette. Jisung took it and let Minho light it wordlessly. 

They sat there in silence, smoke hanging between them, scent permeating the air. Jisung felt it would be awkward for him to keep drawing, so he stayed still as a statue and stared at the ground. Minho’s sneakers were a little dirty and the ends of his shoelaces were frayed. Jisung wondered if he went on long walks or spent a lot of time outside.

When Minho was done with his smoke, he put it out and tossed it into the trash can. Then he leaned back against the wall and stared at Jisung. The younger boy didn’t even notice for a solid few seconds before he realized and snapped his gaze upwards. “What?” He grumbled, feeling a little itchy under Minho’s sharp eyes.

Minho blinked at him slowly, before taking a step forward. Jisung’s eyes followed him, and normally if someone was this close he would be terrified. But he trusted Minho, and he didn’t want to offend him, not after they’d just made up.

But then, Minho did something Jisung couldn’t have dreamed up in his wildest fantasies. He leaned down and put his hands on Jisung’s shoulders before he pressed a light kiss onto the side of Jisung’s mouth.

For a second, Jisung just froze. He didn’t know how to react. The ghost of the kiss burned his skin in the spot where it was pressed, like a brand.
And then he registered what happened, and he was on his feet in an instant. “Wha– what– why… you…” He sputtered, not knowing what to say. The implication of potential feelings behind an action like that sent him into fight or flight mode, and like always, he chose flight.

This time, Jisung was the one to leave the bathroom and leave Minho behind. In a flash of panicked confusion, he ran down the hallway and underneath a stairwell, his mind spinning and the spot where Minho kissed him tingling. 

He sank to the ground, sitting with his back against the wall. He was hidden by the stairs, so he knew he wouldn’t be seen, but he still made himself as small as possible. “What the fuck,” he whispered to himself, pressing his fingers to that spot on the side of his mouth. Why did Minho do that? Just a spur of the moment thing? An impulse? Jisung hoped so. He couldn’t handle the idea of Minho loving him, even liking him. It scared him – not because Minho was a boy, but because Jisung didn’t see how someone could possibly view him like that. Like someone worthy of that sort of affection. 

Jisung didn’t know what to feel, or what to want – or if he even deserved to feel or want. But what he did know for certain was that whatever Minho just did had shifted the world under his feet, and somehow he knew that he would never be able to wake up the same way again. 

Chapter Text

Jisung did not know how to talk to Minho after that. 

He was thoroughly embarrassed by his own actions – what was he thinking, just running like that? If he hadn’t panicked, if he’d just paused for a second and took a breath – maybe he wouldn’t be in this awkward limbo with Minho. They saw each other a few times, but they never made eye contact or exchanged words. No new drawings on the wall. Jisung was scared.

He didn’t think Minho was mad at him. When Jisung’s eyes met his for a split second in the hallway, he didn’t seem icy, like he was last time they were running from each other. So what was he supposed to do? Maybe Minho was upset – after all, Jisung had kind of rejected him. If Jisung was the one in Minho’s place, he’d be mortified and probably never show his face again.

But what if he did pause that day, and he did let Minho kiss him? What if he reciprocated it? Jisung felt a little sick. Minho was too good – too pretty, too smart, too funny, and Jisung was just a scared freshman who couldn’t even go to gym class. The thought of allowing himself to have a moment like that, a moment meant to be intimate, felt like some sort of crime.

Surely, Minho didn’t like him. There's no way he had feelings for Jisung. If he did, they would fade, and they would fade soon. If Jisung reciprocated, his heart would surely be broken within weeks, when Minho realized that Jisung wasn’t all that.

Jisung went through the rest of the week in a daze. His mind wouldn’t stop working. What did he even think of Minho, beyond that he was cool and objectively attractive? If he had taken a breath the other day, would he have reciprocated? Would he have liked it? Did he like– 

No. Jisung did not have a crush on Minho. He did not have feelings of any kind beyond normal platonic ones. He would not allow it, because he knew that only heartbreak lay beyond that threshold. He’d heard the stories, witnessed it with his own eyes when his father divorced his mother and left her alone.

He still visited their bathroom, their stall. He sat on the tank of the toilet as he always did and stared at the drawings blankly. This time, he did not cry. He just thought, and thought, and thought – so much so that he did not hear the door open at first.

Only when Jisung heard footsteps did he realize there was someone else in the bathroom. He got off the toilet, peeked around the corner, hoping he would see familiar sharp eyes and a mess of dark brown hair. 

Disappointment tugged at his heart when the eyes he met were not sharp. But he stood up straight when he realized who it actually was. He bowed his head slightly in a respectful greeting to the senior.

“Hi, Chan hyung.”

The newcomer – Chan – smiled at Jisung. “Hey, didn’t think you’d be here. Skipping class?” He asked, his voice light as he ducked into a stall and shut the door. Jisung sat in his own stall and talked to Chan through the divide. “Yes, gym. I hate it, I haven’t gone once this year.”

Chan laughed at him. Not in a malicious way, because Chan was never mean to anyone. “Not once? What do you do here, then?” 

Jisung sighed. He looked up at the light in the ceiling; it was too harsh and Minho had complained about it a million times. “Well, I usually skip with a friend, but…” he trailed off, not sure if he should divulge his personal information so easily. Chan flushed the toilet.

When Chan went to the sink, Jisung watched him from his perch on the toilet tank. Chan met his gaze through the mirror. “But?” He prompted. Jisung decided that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to confide in Chan – they had music class together, and not once had Chan given him a reason to be afraid. 

“Well…there was a bit of a misunderstanding, I think.” Jisung hesitated, he didn’t even know how to classify this situation. “It wasn’t a fight. He just… did something that shocked me, and I ran away, and we haven’t talked in a couple days.”

Chan hummed as he took in the information. “What did he do? Was it something bad?” He asked, turning the faucet off and drying his hands. “I don’t know. He… uh, kissed me.” Jisung replied, fidgeting with his hands. Chan raised his eyebrows and looked over at Jisung. “He did? Are you guys dating or something?” 

Jisung choked on his own saliva. He coughed, hitting his chest to clear it. When he recovered, he shook his head. “No– no, we arent… we aren’t dating.”
Chan looked doubtful, but he nodded anyway. “Alright. So, why’d he kiss you, then?”

Jisung found he didn’t have an answer. He told Chan that, and the senior shook his head in a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Jisung. He kissed you and then you ghosted him? Seriously, he’s going to think you hate him or that he messed up the friendship.”

“Well, he kind of did.” Jisung pointed out. “There’s no way I can look at him the same.”
Chan gave him a look. “You don’t hate him, do you? Or think of him badly?” When Jisung shook his head, Chan nodded. “So… talk to him. Do you like him, or what?”

Jisung’s chest squeezed. He’d been pondering this himself for days and he couldn’t come up with an answer. So he replied honestly, “I don’t know.”

Chan smiled a bit. “Well, it’s not a no. You should try writing out your feelings, it might help.
Jisung scoffed. “Really? I’m not journaling about whether I have feelings for my friend or not.” 

Chan shook his head, an amused huff leaving his mouth. “It’s helpful. Really. I’ve messed stuff like this up before.” He looked down at his sleeve and fiddled with his watch for a moment. “Well, I bet you’ve been stuck in your head about it anyway, so if you want to say stuff out loud, you can talk to me.” He offered Jisung a kind look.
Jisung felt a little warmth tinge his heart.  “Thanks, Chan hyung.”

They stood in silence for a moment, Chan fixing his hair in the mirror and Jisung staring at the tiles on the floor, lost in thought. “Hyung?” He called after a moment, lifting his gaze to his classmate. Chan glanced over at him. “Yes?”

Jisung fidgeted for a moment before he asked, “do you think… that he really likes me?” 

Chan looked thoughtful. “Well, I don’t know. Because I don’t know who it is… or what kind of dynamic you guys have, or anything, I can’t say for sure… but I think people don’t usually just kiss someone they don’t like.” 

Jisung nodded, his eyes lowering again. “Alright… yeah. Thanks, Chan hyung.”
Chan smiled. “Sure thing, Jisung. I’ll see you in music, yeah?”
Jisung smiled back. “Yeah.” 

Chapter Text

Jisung made up his mind that he was going to talk. To Minho, directly, and he would not get nervous.

He cornered the upperclassman in the hallway during the passing time from third to fourth period. Minho looked perplexed at Jisung’s boldness, but the younger boy could do what he put his mind to, and it was due time for Minho to learn that.

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” Jisung said, looking up so their eyes met. Minho was silent as he stared back, but he nodded.

They walked side by side to their bathroom, into their stall. Jisung sat on the tank of the toilet, his favorite spot, and Minho on the floor. Finally, Jisung was the one that had to lower his eyes to see the other, and it made him a little smug. Their normal height difference wasn’t large, but it was enough.

He pushed the triumph out of his mind and cleared his throat. “So.”
Minho glanced up, tilting his head just a bit, questioningly. Maybe Jisung was imagining it, but he seemed a little nervous, like he had last time they talked things out. For some reason, that made Jisung happy. Minho was just a kid too, like him, no matter if he was two years older or not.

“Seems like we have a habit of, uh, running away from each other and dragging out conflicts,” Jisung said with a small smile, trying to joke around. Minho didn’t laugh, but Jisung swore he saw the corners of his lips twitch slightly, and that was victory enough. 

“I’m… sorry, for ghosting you like that,” he continued with a more serious tone. He felt a little awkward, apologizing in general but especially when they both knew the context – but he continued on because he knew Minho deserved it. 

He took a breath and kept talking. “I just wasn’t expecting you to do… that, and I freaked out. After, I didn’t know if you… I didn’t know what to say, so I just didn’t say anything. I should have said something sooner…. So, uh… sorry. Again.” 

Minho was quiet for a while, and it made Jisung a little nervous. What if Minho had changed his mind, and didn’t want to keep talking to Jisung– 

“It’s okay.” Minho’s voice, smooth and even, broke through Jisung’s thoughts. He looked completely unbothered. “I understand. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you out of the blue anyways.”

Jisung swallowed. He felt something warm in his chest – Minho was so kind to him, and he didn’t think Jisung was the only one who messed up. A mutual apology. It felt so nice.

“It’s alright.” Jisung replied, smiling a bit. “I… didn’t really mind.”
Minho looked up at him quickly, surprise flashing in his dark eyes. “You didn’t?”

Jisung shook his head. “No, it… I was just surprised.” Minho was staring at him as if he had just been told the sky was green. “I… oh. I thought you were, like, disgusted or something.”

The freshman shook his head again, this time more vigorously. “No.”
Minho looked relieved, and he nodded. “I see. So…” he trailed off. Jisung tilted his head and waited for him to finish his sentence. He wet his lips with his tongue – he was nervous, and it delighted Jisung – and swallowed. “So, did you… like it, then?”

Jisung’s delight faded a bit. Answering this would be a little embarrassing, but he didn’t want to lie and hurt Minho’s feelings. “Um… yeah, I guess I did.” 

They were both quiet for a long moment, processing the exchange they’d just had, before Minho – he smiled. Not a grin, nothing big, just a little one. But a smile nevertheless, and Jisung was dazzled. He found himself wanting to see more, to see it every day. 

“Then maybe you’d be interested in doing it again,” Minho ventured, looking up at Jisung with eyes that made it impossible to refute that claim. He bit his lip, and Jisung’s gaze dropped to Minho’s mouth – the thought that they could do that again was thrilling, and to his surprise he found that he was interested. He wanted to feel that tingly feeling that Minho’s lips left on his skin the other day. So he nodded. 

Minho’s smile stayed on his face and he leaned forward. He didn’t fully go in. He was letting Jisung decide if they really did it or not. The younger boy swallowed, said to himself  “you only live once,” and leaned in to meet Minho halfway.

It wasn’t anything like he’d seen in the movies. On his TV, first kisses had fireworks in the background and they were perfect. They tasted sweet and both parties knew exactly what to do. 

But Jisung and Minho’s kiss was awkward and hesitant, their lips brushing together lightly before pressing more firmly – then too firmly, Minho’s tooth pressed against his lip and he pulled away in pain. He looked down at Minho and then he giggled. It led to a mess of laughter, feeling his heart become light and giddy in the aftermath of his first real kiss. It wasn’t movie worthy by any means, but somehow it felt just right.

Minho was staring at him, frozen, and Jisung caught a glimpse of a pink tinge on his ears. He grinned at the sight, knowing that the older boy was also affected. It seemed unreal, that he could render Minho speechless – he didn’t want to admit how cute he found his upperclassman at that moment.

“That was nice,” Jisung said when he managed to find his voice. Minho just nodded. Jisung filled the silence for him. “You’re my first kiss. Congratulations.”

That seemed to snap Minho out of his reverie. His eyes widened. “I was? That was your– first…?” Jisung smiled at how nervous that seemed to make Minho. “Yeah.”
Minho stared at him for a moment, then he asked, “was it… what you wanted?”

Jisung’s heart may have done a little flip in his chest. God, maybe he did like Minho, with all this sappy internal monologue and these reactions his body was having. “Yes,” he replied. “It wasn’t what I thought it would be, because of movies and stuff, but… y’know.”

Minho looked up at him. “You watch romance movies?” He looked a little amused, and Jisung’s face felt hot. “No… not often.” 

For some reason, it felt like Minho didn’t believe him, but the topic didn’t continue. They just sat there in their stall and eventually they took their Sharpies to the wall and started to make more marks on it. They wrote to each other on the wall – Minho doodled a few little cats, Jisung wrote “cute!”, and Minho scribbled “thanks.” 

It was peaceful, neither of them were upset. Jisung had been feeling a warm, glowing sensation in his chest quite a bit recently, and he found himself wanting to get used to it. 

Chapter Text

They were not dating.

Despite the conversation they’d had in the stall, despite the feelings they’d shared – they were not dating. But for some reason, Jisung was not against it when Minho slotted their fingers together. He didn’t pull away and it didn’t even feel weird. It made the glow in his chest a little bit brighter.

Jisung drew a small heart on the tile walls of the stall. 

It didn’t feel awkward to hold Minho’s hand, but it made him nervous when he glanced at Minho and caught the older boy staring at him already. His heart fluttered but not in the way he assumed it should be. He was anxious. He didn’t know how to interpret this situation, how to deal with it properly. Should he ask Minho out? Did he even like Minho like that, or was he just touch-starved?

Jisung could tell Minho was nervous too, in the way Minho wet his lips when Jisung looked at him a little too hard and the way he pulled his knees to his chest when the topic got a little too serious. Maybe he was as afraid as Jisung of being vulnerable. Of allowing himself to be in that kind of relationship with someone; one where you’re supposed to bare yourself and let someone see your heart. 

Jisung rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the toilet seat, as he sat on his knees on the ground of the stall. Minho sat with his back to Jisung, drawing cats on the wall again – his cats, apparently. He labelled them with what Jisung assumed were initials. S. D.

“What are their names?” Jisung asked, unable to put a cap on his sudden curiosity. Minho paused, and he looked over his shoulder. “My cats? This one is Soonie–” he pointed to the cat with more color filled into its face, “-- and this one is Doongie.” He pointed to the cat with more white space. 

Jisung suddenly found himself wishing he knew more about Minho. Like where he adopted his cats from, or if they were rescued. He did kind of seem like the type to rescue cats, even if he didn’t appear that way on the outside. Realistically, he knew he could just ask, but something held him back. He didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t end up saying anything.  

At the end of fourth period, they bid goodbye to each other and parted ways. Jisung headed toward his algebra class – he hated this one too, but it was more bearable than gym. He was rushing since he had taken his sweet time saying goodbye to Minho, and in his rush he ran head-on into someone.

He took a step backward and put a hand on his forehead to soothe the slight pain. “Ow. Uh, sorry.” Jisung apologized to the person he had possibly hurt. The other student – a guy – had black hair on the longer side and big eyes. He looked up at Jisung and smiled. “No problem. It happens to me a lot.”

Jisung blinked at him. What a peculiar reply. “It does?” He asked, unable to hide his surprise at the unexpected comment. The other boy laughed. It was a nice sound, Jisung thought, smooth and almost melodic. He knew that was corny and cliche, but he couldn’t find any other words to describe it. 

“Yes, actually,” the other boy responded, still smiling. It was so cheerful of an expression that Jisung couldn’t help but smile a bit himself. “I forget to look where I am going sometimes... Anyway, my name is Felix. What’s yours?” 

Jisung was a bit taken aback. It was a foreign name, but Felix didn’t look foreign. Maybe his parents just liked exotic names. “I’m Han Jisung. Nice to meet you, Felix. Are you from Korea?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Felix grinned excitedly. “No, actually! I’m from Australia. I’m a transfer student. But my family is Korean.”

Well, that explained it. Jisung nodded. He understood why Felix’s manner of speech was so formal – it was probably from a textbook. It made sense now, because Felix didn’t seem like the type to speak stiffly by choice. But still– Australia?

“Australia, huh?” Jisung hummed. “Why’d you come here? You–” he was rudely interrupted by the loud ding of the bell signalling the end of their passing period between classes. He gasped. Felix’s eyes widened. He looked at Jisung and smiled. “For school. Anyway, have a good day…and cheer up. You look like you are thinking about twelve things at once.”

That final comment made Jisung pause as he was about to make a mad dash for his class. He stared at Felix for a second and then answered, “you’re right. I kinda am.”
Felix smiled, patted Jisung’s shoulder, then walked off toward his own class. Jisung snapped out of the momentary daze the transfer student had put him in and hurried toward algebra. When the teacher wasn’t there yet, he let out a sigh of relief, sank down in his seat, and hurried to get out his books.

While he waited for class to start, his thoughts drifted – not to algebra, but to cats and the feeling of a hand in his own. 

Chapter Text

Jisung wasn’t quite sure how they’d ended up right where they were right now.

He was standing in his driveway, waiting for Minho to finish tying his shoe and stand up. Somehow, they had decided to have dinner together. Jisung had texted his mother and said ‘i made a friend, can he have dinner at our house’ and she had sent a simple ‘Ok’ in response. He understood the process by which they’d ended up here but he wasn’t registering that it was really happening.

Jisung had never been abused, but he could say that his family certainly didn’t understand him. They kind of treated him like a kid that lived in their house, not the son they had raised. But, they provided for him and attended his middle school graduation and they weren’t mean to him, so he didn’t complain. However… he was afraid of what Minho would think, if he would view them as stuck up or distant. Worse still – if he would see the dynamic in the family and worry for Jisung. 

When Minho stood up, Jisung glanced at him. “Are you ready?”
Minho met his gaze. “I’m kind of nervous.”
Jisung smiled. “My parents don’t bite. They don’t bark much, either.”

Minho blinked a few times, then nodded. “Alright. Let’s go, then.” 

Jisung led him to the door and fished his keys out of his pocket. He slid it into the door and opened it, allowing Minho to walk inside ahead of him. Minho seemed on his best behavior – he had even taken out his nose piercing and removed his eyeliner, maybe to make a good impression. The thought made Jisung’s chest warm. 

He shook the notion away and then called for his parents. The action felt foreign, and he was almost surprised when his mother appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “Oh, hello, Jisung. This must be your friend?” She gestured toward Minho, who took a breath in. 

He bowed to Jisung’s mother. “Hello, Mrs. Han. Um, my name is Lee Minho. I go to school with your son.”
To Jisung, the formal and polite tone Minho used was funny. Minho had never spoken to him like that. But his mother seemed happy, and she offered him a smile. “Hello, Minho. Thanks for being Jisung’s friend, he doesn’t have any other ones.”

Embarrassment immediately shot through Jisung’s veins and he let out a noise of protest. “Mom! Don’t say that!”
It turned into mortification when Minho laughed at him. It was just a quiet chuckle, but it was a laugh nonetheless. Jisung turned his gaze on him, feeling betrayed. 

He just kept a small upturn of his lips, not a full smile. “It’s not embarrassing. I don’t really have any other close friends either. Acquaintances, but not friends.”

Jisung’s embarrassment faded away, melted by the warmth that settled lightly on his face. Close friend. That’s what Minho considered him? He had only been called that once or twice in his life, and he wasn’t close with those people anymore. Close. 

“Oh,” was all he managed to say. He fought a giddy smile. He didn’t know what else to say, but fortunately his mom solved that problem for him. “Why don’t you boys go upstairs? I’ll call you down for dinner.”

Jisung felt a little nervous showing Minho his room, but he thought it would be weird if he refused, so he nodded and gestured for the older boy to follow as he hurried up the steps. When they reached his door he hurriedly ripped a black paper star he’d taped to it off, feeling a little childish for it. Minho, with his sharp eyes, unfortunately noticed and he smiled a bit. “Why’d you take it down?”
Jisung’s ears burned. “It’s embarrassing.” 

Minho tilted his head. “Why?”
Jisung huffed. “I don’t know. It just is.”

He tossed the star to the ground and opened his door. He reluctantly let Minho inside. He was antsy, hurrying to pick random things up. Minho coming home with him had been unplanned, so he didn’t have a chance to clean beforehand. 

Minho didn’t seem bothered by the clutter at all. He didn’t even look at it, just the posters on the wall and eventually settling on the guitar Jisung had propped up in the corner. “You play guitar?” He asked. Jisung looked up at him. “Uh, yeah.”
Minho just nodded. “Cool. I mean, I'm not really surprised, but… I’m surprised.”

Jisung blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, not sure if he should be offended or not.
“I mean, you seem like the type, but also it’s a little too cool for you.” Minho replied, tilting his head with a small curve of his lips.

A scoff left Jisung’s mouth, but he couldn’t stop his lips from curling upwards slightly. Minho had never teased him before; maybe he had lightheartedly insulted him but he had never teased. Poking fun with the intention of riling Jisung up – no, he had never done that. Did that mean Minho was getting more comfortable with him?

The thought delighted Jisung to no end.

He’d forgotten that he had to reply when spoken to, and he had just been staring at Minho with a stupid little smile on his face and his cheeks were probably pink – oh, God, that’s so embarrassing. Jisung snapped out of it and looked away, coughing. “Uh. Sorry. I mean– yes, I play the guitar.”

Minho’s eyes were alight with amusement. He glanced around one more time before stepping closer to Jisung.

In that moment, sixteen year old Han Jisung felt as if he understood the entire expanse of human emotion. He felt everything flicker through him in that moment from giddiness to fear. Minho had never gotten too close to him before, but now – in Jisung’s room, he purposefully came to stand right in front of him.

“I wanted to ask,” Minho murmured. The sound, low and quiet, sent a thrill through Jisung’s stomach. “If maybe I could… Y’know. With you.”

Jisung stared at him. His mind instantly flashed to situations he was not legally old enough to be in, and he let out an embarrassing sound akin to a squeak. “You want to– what!? I-I don’t know if I can, you know, because I’m not old enough to…”

Minho stared at him for a moment before he let out a nervous laugh. “Oh. What are you thinking about? I just meant I wanted to… kiss you.”

A cough forced its way out of Jisung’s throat, borne from shock. “Oh! Oh, my God. That's so embarrassing.” His entire body felt hot, and he pushed the images his mind had conjured up away – well, he tried to. But after that, he couldn’t help but wonder what Minho looked like without a shirt on. 

“Well… I guess I was a bit vague. Sorry. But… can I?” Minho asked again, his tone hopeful. Jisung’s immediate instinct was to say yes, yes, please, but he wasn’t sure. You were only supposed to kiss people you’re dating, right? So wouldn’t it be wrong of him to let Minho’s mouth touch his when– oh, Minho’s mouth. He did have pretty lips, and last time they had felt so nice, electrifying. So the answer left Jisung’s mouth before his brain made up his mind. “Yes.”

Minho smiled and he put a hand over Jisung’s eyes, his other hand joining the younger boy’s and he leaned in. Jisung couldn’t see, but he could feel the moment when Minho’s breath touched his lips and it made his spine tingle. His chest felt like it would explode and when he felt another pair of lips on his own he thought his heart really did blow up. 

But it didn’t, because he was alive– he was so alive, and he was kissing Minho again, and he wished he could do this forever.

Forever was a dangerous thought for someone like Jisung who couldn’t seem to keep a friend for more than a couple years at most, let alone a boyfriend. He’d never dated someone before, what if he was bad at it? What if–

Minho’s hand on the side of his cheek made all of those thoughts stop. He didn’t care if his thoughts were out of line or delusional. He wanted this– he wanted Minho so bad and for a moment he didn’t care if he turned out to be a bad partner. 

When Jisung’s lips were left by themselves once again, he bit back a protest. As brave as he’d felt in his mind a moment ago, he didn’t want to push things too far. Minho was looking at him and those usually sharp eyes seemed a little softer. It made Jisung want to get on his knees and beg Minho to stay with him forever.

Minho made it seem really easy to think about forever.

“Was it okay?” Minho prompted when Jisung didn’t speak for a few moments. He snapped out of his daze and nodded rapidly. “Yes! I mean, yes. It was great. Good. I liked it.”
It seemed like every time Jisung opened his mouth he said something embarrassing. 

But Minho didn’t seem put off. If anything, he looked relieved. “Good, I’m glad. I thought you were upset.” He said with a small smile. Jisung scoffed. “No. I was just…zoned out.” 

Minho was about to say something when there came a shout from downstairs. It was a bit muffled by Jisung’s soundproof door but it sounded like ‘dinner’,  so they both reluctantly stepped apart and walked downstairs.

Jisung hoped his blush wasn’t visible when he sat down at the table next to Minho. He helped himself to a serving and when he noticed Minho trying to take as little as possible without being rude, he clicked his tongue and nudged Minho under the table.

The junior glanced at him hesitantly, then he gave in to Jisung’s hard stare and sighed as he put more food on his plate. Satisfied, Jisung smiled a bit. Only when Minho started eating did he begin to eat as well.

Jisung’s mother asked Minho plenty of questions, mostly about school. It seemed like Minho dodged questions about his own family, so she took the hint and kept the topic surface level. She asked how he met Jisung and he had the courtesy to leave the part out of the story where they skipped class and drew on the wall. He just said that they ran into each other in the restroom a few times and decided to be friends.

Initially, Jisung was nervous, but it seemed like Minho got along with his mother, and even his stepfather, who was a man of few words, seemed to like him well enough. 

It was nice. Jisung rarely had dinner with his family like this – either they were at work, Jisung was busy studying, or they were all just too tired for a proper dinner. Only on holidays or birthdays did they all gather like this. Jisung wished he could tell Minho this little tidbit, maybe it would make him feel special. Yes, that’s what he was to Jisung. Special . 

After dinner, Minho offered to help clean up, which Jisung’s mother seemed endeared by. She took the chance to comment about how Jisung and his stepfather never offered to help her – which Jisung denied – but she turned his offer down nevertheless because he was a guest. Jisung was let off the hook so he could “entertain their company”, which made him sound like a servant, but he wouldn’t dare pass up the chance to get out of doing the dishes.

He led Minho up to his room again and this time they didn’t kiss, but they sat on Jisung’s bed instead and put on a random anime in the background as they chatted. When there was a prolonged silence, Jisung waited for Minho to say something.

When he did, Jisung’s chest got tight.
“Your family is nice. I’m a bit jealous.”

Jisung looked at him, and he regretted it, because Minho looked almost… sad . He’d displayed a few emotions around Jisung by now – fondness, amusement, anger, nervousness, maybe a bit crestfallen, but never sadness. It made Jisung want to cry.

“Why?” He prompted gently, instead of breaking down in tears. Minho fidgeted with his sleeve. “Well, my family isn’t like that. Everyone’s always mad at each other, and…we’ve never had dinner together. So it was just… nice. I shouldn’t be jealous, but…” 

Jisung’s heart cracked a little. He didn’t know Minho lived in a house full of hostility. He was so gentle with Jisung, he wouldn’t have believed it if the information came second-hand.

But he was told directly by Minho, and that made it hurt. He was secretly happy that Minho felt comfortable enough with him to share something like this, but he wished– god, he wished that he hadn’t heard that. It made him so sad.

“I’m sorry,” was all he was able to muster up. But then he lifted his hand, he put it on Minho’s shoulder, and he watched the older boy’s face crinkle slightly. Not out of disgust, but like he was trying to hold something back. Jisung didn’t want him to hold anything back, even if it broke his heart to hear.

He hesitated for a moment, but then he gave in and he opened his arms slightly; an invitation. Minho stared at him before moving forward and accepting Jisung’s offer, allowing himself to be held.

Jisung held him as tightly as he could without it being painful. He wanted Minho to feel safe in his arms. Minho sniffled, and Jisung, in his mind, screamed at the heavens and asked them not to make Minho cry.

The heavens must have heard him, because Minho did not cry. He just sat there hugging Jisung for a long time before the younger boy felt it was appropriate to break the silence.

“Minho,” he began quietly. “I don’t want you to think of family as something sad.”
He was met with another sniffle and an equally quiet reply. “That's all I can associate it with.”

Jisung’s heart ached.

“Then…” he wet his lips with his tongue. “Then you should associate it with something else.” He pulled back slightly so he could look into Minho’s pretty eyes. They didn’t look so sharp right now. He looked vulnerable, and Jisung wanted to cry on his behalf.

“Associate it with me.” 

The boldness of his own words surprised him, and Jisung almost backtracked before he bit his lip and continued. “I’ll be your family instead. And I promise I won’t make you sad.” 

Minho stared at him for a long moment and Jisung briefly wondered if he shouldn’t have said that, if maybe it offended Minho. But then the older boy gave a small, small smile. If Jisung wasn’t staring at him so intensely, he wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Alright,” Minho replied softly. “I trust you.”

Trust.
That one word was the thing that finally made Jisung unable to hold himself back from crying. Crying because it was unfair that kind, genuine Minho had to go home to people who were angry every day. He wondered if they’d ever hit him, or made him feel small. If they’d ever hurt him. Surely they did, even if it wasn’t physical. Otherwise Minho wouldn’t look so sad.

He sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Okay,” he breathed out. “You can trust me. I’ll be your family instead, and– and I won’t ever hurt you. And family is forever. Okay?”

Minho nodded, his eyes a little wet. Jisung hadn’t even noticed that the word forever had left his mouth.

Minho made it seem really easy to say forever. 

Chapter Text

When the transfer student Felix told Jisung he didn’t look where he was going, he really wasn’t lying, because the second time they met, they walked right into each other again. It felt like some kind of bad movie trope.

“I’m sorry– oh, it’s you!” Felix’s cheerful voice made Jisung feel bad about getting annoyed. He met Felix’s eyes and smiled back. “Yeah, hi. I’m surprised you remember me.” He replied. Felix looked a little offended. “Of course I remember you. Oh, you do not look as upset today as you did on Tuesday.”

Jisung chuckled nervously. How did Felix read him so easily the other day? “Oh. Yeah, I’m in a better mood.” Felix looked genuinely happy, as if he was Jisung’s best friend and truly cared about him. Jisung wanted to be wary but the Australian boy just seemed so kind that it would be wrong to distrust him.

“Where are you headed, Felix?” He asked, and Felix sighed. “My next class is geometry.”
Jisung hummed in sympathy. “Oh, geometry is the worst. I have algebra.” He offered, which in his mind were on the same level of difficulty and deserving of hatred. Felix seemed to agree, because he nodded vigorously.
“Yes! It is so hard to solve equations, they do not make any sense.” 

Jisung had never seen someone speak so vehemently while thinking about how to phrase a sentence at the same time, and it did make him laugh. “I agree.”

Felix nodded one more time before looking away, then his eyes lit up and he looked at Jisung again. “Hey! You should eat lunch with me today. With me and my friends.” 
Jisung had to take a moment to process the invitation, but when he did, he hesitated, but he couldn’t deny that he would rather stop looking lame when he sat by himself in the corner of the cafeteria. Sometimes Minho joined him, but usually he was alone.  So he agreed. “Sure, I’ll eat with you.”

Felix looked delighted, and he clapped a little with his hands. “Great! I will see you at lunch.” He said cheerfully, and then he ran off. Jisung was a little dazed by how much energy Felix had, but he actually enjoyed it. Usually, extroverted people got on his nerves, but Felix seemed like an angel, so he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed.

During his allotted time with Minho in stall seven, Jisung told him about it.

“I met this guy in the hallway, his name’s Felix and he’s a transfer student. From Australia, apparently. But he invited me to sit with him at lunch.” He said as he doodled a pair of headphones on the wall. Minho hummed. “You’re widowing me.”

He said it so casually and so offhandedly that Jisung almost didn’t register the joke for a moment but when he did, he laughed so hard he had to stop drawing so he didn’t mess it up. “What? I’m not widowing you. I’m not dying, and we aren’t married.” 

Minho huffed. “Yeah, it was a joke, Einstein.”
Jisung scoffed. “Oh, really? Well, I’ll show you a joke.”

Minho raised his eyebrows, and Jisung took out his phone and put it in selfie mode, before placing it in front of Minho. The screen displayed the older boy’s confused face for a moment before it clicked and he gasped. “Jisung!” He exclaimed, pretending to be very offended.

Jisung cackled and leaned against the wall, delighted that he managed to get Minho back. The junior looked a little ruffled, but he had a smile on his face that said he wasn’t really mad at all. 

They chatted and just hung out for the remainder of the period. They still weren’t dating, but something between them had shifted  – it had been different since the first time Minho made a move on him, but after that night at Jisung’s house… the air seemed more casual, yet more charged at the same time. 

He didn’t know what to think of the casual way Minho took his hand or pressed his lips against Jisung’s cheek. He didn’t know what to think of the fact that they weren’t together.

After the bell rang, Jisung went to geometry. He didn’t bump into Felix this time, but after class, he made his way to the cafeteria. He nervously scanned the tables full of kids of all kinds, and when he spotted Felix sitting with a bunch of other boys he didn’t know, he let out a slow breath. He recognized Hwang Hyunjin, who was popular because everyone thought he was the most gorgeous man to ever have been born. He didn’t have the slightest idea of Hyunjin’s personality, but he looked nice enough. 

Jisung made his way over hesitantly. All of a sudden, he kind of felt like backing down and running back to Minho. But… a lot of things had been changing in his life recently, so he decided to take a breath and try. If it went badly, lunch was only 30 minutes long, and he wouldn’t sit with them again.

He approached, and thankfully Felix noticed him right away, eyes bright and sparkly. “Jisung! There you are! Come, come sit with us.” He patted the spot next to him, and Jisung gingerly took it. He looked up at the other two at the table – Hyunjin, and a boy he didn’t know that had puppylike eyes.

“Hello,” Jisung greeted them timidly. “I’m Han Jisung.” He bowed his head slightly, and tried not to imagine that they were judging them.
The boy that Jisung didn’t know spoke first. “Hi, Jisung. I’m Seungmin, and surely you know this idiot.” He elbowed Hyunjin, who laughed. Both of them seemed good-natured, even though Seungmin seemed a little rough around the edges. He reminded Jisung of Minho a little.

“Of course he knows me,” Hyunjin said with a smirk that for some reason irked Jisung. He folded his hands on the table. “So, Jisung, right? I’ve never seen you before.”
Jisung let out a breath. “Yeah. I’m a freshman.” He replied, and Felix nudged him. “All of us are freshmen.” 

Jisung looked at him. “Oh.” So, it wasn’t that Hyunjin didn’t know him due to a grade difference. Hyunjin just didn’t know him because he was a loser with no friends. His face felt prickly, and a sharp voice he had almost managed to silence intruded in his head loud and clear– freak, freak, freeeeaaaak.  

Hyunjin was still smirking in that irritating way. “You don’t seem like the type to be friends with Felix, Jisung. He’s like, super friendly, and you… uh.” He looked at Jisung’s face, then his outfit. They had uniforms, but Jisung had added pins to it and little personalizations here and there. He was suddenly very aware of the eyeliner around his eyes and the length of his hair, almost down his neck. He felt very out of place in front of well-groomed, handsome Hyunjin.

“Felix asked me to sit here,” Jisung said back, surprising himself. He had to gather the courage to say more. “And just because I don’t have many friends doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with him, y’know.”
Hyunjin clicked his tongue. “You’re pretty annoying.” He remarked. “I was just joking.”
Jisung pursed his lips before replying. “Well, you shouldn’t make jokes at other people’s expense.”

There was a moment of tense silence before Felix clapped his hands with a nervous smile. “Okay, okay, everyone should stop arguing. Let’s talk about something else, okay?” He put his hands on top of Hyunjin’s to calm him. Seungmin shook his head and shoved a piece of bread into Hyunjin’s mouth when it seemed like he would argue with Felix. 

Jisung was relieved and grateful for Felix and Seungmin’s intervention, but his interaction with Hyunjin left a sour taste in his mouth that lasted the duration of lunch. Even the brownie Felix gifted him didn’t taste as sweet as it should have. 

The next day, fourth period, Jisung went into the stall and Minho was already there. He smiled at the junior and sat beside him. “Hi.”
Minho looked up and offered a smile of his own. “Hey.”

He sighed and rested his head against the wall. Minho shifted closer and Jisung let his head fall onto the older boy’s shoulder. He shut his eyes and let himself relax. Normally he would be nervous about this closeness but right now he just felt strangely at peace.

“How was lunch yesterday?” Minho asked, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence. Jisung opened his eyes and scowled a bit. “It was fine. But y’know that guy Hwang Hyunjin, the popular one? He seems nice, but he’s an asshole.” 

Minho shifted, and Jisung adjusted his head up a bit to fit the new position. “What did he do?” He asked. Jisung sighed.
“Well, he made fun of me for not having any friends. That’s kind of mean, isn’t it?” 

The shoulder under Jisung’s head seemed to tense up. “He made fun of you?”
Jisung just nodded in response.

Minho sighed. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just a shallow jerk who let popularity get to his head. He’ll peak in high school and fail as an adult. Don’t worry.”
Jisung was slightly surprised at Minho’s words. He didn’t expect that sharp of a response, but he smiled anyway. “Thanks.”

Minho gave a short “hm” in response. Jisung sighed softly and shut his eyes again, before deciding to share the bright side of his lunch experience. “Well, besides Hyunjin, I got to hang out with Felix – the transfer student, remember? – and this guy Kim Seungmin. He was quiet and he insulted Hyunjin but he didn’t seem like an asshole.”

“That’s nice,” Minho replied. “I’m glad you made other friends.”
His words were encouraging, but for some reason, they sounded a little unsettling to Jisung, like Minho wasn’t glad after all. He wondered if maybe Minho didn’t approve of his choices.

“Thanks,” was all he said back, not wanting to start something. He didn’t feel like hearing criticism of himself right now, anyway, he would rather just keep his head on Minho’s shoulder and sit in his presence peacefully. 

They didn’t draw that day, but Minho held a Sharpie in his hands and looked at their ink gallery that had formed over the past couple months. Jisung observed Minho, because he’d stared at the wall enough that he could picture it in his mind’s eye. He kept his head down but his eyes were on Minho, those brown eyes outlined in black and the sharp nose that looked like it belonged in a painting. Maybe Minho belonged on the wall, immortalized in ink, not beside him like this.

Of course, Jisung had no way of knowing that he had, in a less literal way, drawn life into Minho himself. He had no way of knowing that maybe Minho thought the same of him.
But oh well –  he would find that out himself another day. 

Chapter Text

After the first time Jisung had lunch with Felix, Seungmin, and Hyunjin, he began to make it part of his routine. Most days he sat with them, once or twice a week he sat with Minho. He felt bad about leaving the junior alone, but he was reassured quickly that there were acquaintances for Minho to sit with. 

Jisung tried to ignore Hyunjin’s stupid insults and snarky comments. But he had begun to use less eyeliner, and he removed a few pins from his backpack and the belt loop chain on his pants. And he tried to not say anything back, but the anger and anxiety that Hyunjin’s words sparked in him sometimes overwhelmed him and he argued with him often. 

The tension between them kept building up every time Hyunjin made a comment or gave Jisung a backhanded compliment – the most recent one being “ oh, you actually look good today!” when Jisung had cut back on his eyeliner. The words Hyunjin directed at him shouldn’t have hurt but they buried themselves in his brain. 

Jisung hadn’t seen Minho in the bathroom on this specific Thursday. Because of that, he was in a bad mood, and just seeing Hyunjin’s face ticked him off. When he sat down, his moodiness must have shown on his face because Hyunjin got that infuriating smirk on his face. “Damn, Jisung, did someone piss on you or something?” 

Jisung was not in the mood. “Shut up, Hyunjin,” he snapped. Felix’s big, worried eyes on him made him feel a little bad, but he couldn’t help it.
Hyunjin just looked even more smug when Jisung gave him a reaction.
“Oh, why are you so mad? I was just messing with y–”
“Hyunjin, take a hint.” 

Seungmin was the one who interrupted Hyunjin, and he smacked him on the back of the head.  Jisung flashed him a grateful look. Felix moved closer to Jisung and asked him how his day was, and as they talked the tension over their table slowly dissolved. 

But Hyunjin just wouldn’t let Jisung catch a break. As soon as his mood began to lift, the taller boy just had to go and open his mouth. “Felix, it’s so nice of you to help the quiet kid feel better,” he said passive-aggressively.

Jisung’s gaze immediately turned into a glare and he fixed it on Hyunjin. Felix looked nervous. “Hyunjin, don’t be mean,” he tried to soothe the situation before it got worse. But Hyunjin didn’t listen. 

“Jisung, you’ve been hanging around Felix a lot these days. But Felix likes strays, so don’t think you’re special, okay? He feeds dogs on the street.”

Jisung felt his entire body get hot. Did Hyunjin just compare him to a stray dog? The insult dug into him, clawing something out of Jisung’s heart that he would rather not face. He shot to his feet. He meant to run away, but the anger that overtook him forced him to say something back. 

“At least I don’t need to act fake so people don’t find out I’m nothing but an asshole underneath,” he shot back. Jisung hoped that his words would finally get to Hyunjin, and by the way the latter’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened, he knew that they did. 

“Excuse me?” Hyunjin spat. “I don’t act fake. You’re just jealous because people like me and nobody even knows you exist.”
He stood up, possibly to intimidate Jisung. If that was his goal, then it worked. Jisung tried not to think about the fact that Hyunjin had almost ten centimeters on him. But even if there was a little bit of fear pricking his veins, he didn’t back down. He refused to let Hyunjin win this. 

“I may not be popular, but I’d rather be a loner than be liked for a fake personality!”
“That’s exactly what a bitter and lonely guy would use for an excuse.”
“Shut up! I’m not lonely, I have a few friends, real friends, unlike you…”

At some point when they were exchanging words dripping with venom, they had gotten in each other’s space. From this close, Jisung could smell the cologne Hyunjin used. Too musky, too strong. He hated it. It added to the anger building up in Jisung’s muscles. 

His arm moved on its own.

He saw Hyunjin’s eyes widen, and he managed to stumble out of the way of Jisung’s fist.

But he was pissed.
“What the fuck?!” Hyunjin exclaimed. Jisung had never seen him truly angry before. Jisung’s chest simmered with the need to punch him.
In a split second, Hyunjin’s fist almost made contact with his face, but someone pushed it away just in time. Jisung recognized the brown hair as Seungmin’s, hands on Hyunjin’s arms to stop him from making any more moves. “Enough,” he said, his voice low but hard, leaving no room to be ignored.

Jisung and Hyunjin glared daggers at each other, but didn’t make a move to keep fighting. Nothing else about the day was worth remembering – it passed like static, too many people Jisung didn’t even know coming up to him and asking him about the fight.
But he and Hyunjin did receive detention. They were placed on opposite ends of the room and thoroughly scolded by multiple teachers. 

By the end of the day, Jisung was exhausted. He went home and immediately fell asleep. He skipped on Friday and slept the weekend away. He wished he could see Minho, tell him all about his fight with Hyunjin. But he would wait until Monday. He wondered if Minho would get upset on his behalf, or if he would say Jisung had to control himself better. 

In Jisung’s dreams, sharp eyes outlined with black ink looked upon him kindly. 

Minho wasn’t there on Monday either. 

Jisung was starting to get anxious. He hadn’t seen Minho in the hallways, but what if he was being avoided again? They hadn’t fought or anything, but… maybe the older boy had just finally gotten sick of the weird little freshman who clung onto him. The thought made Jisung want to curl up and cry.

But he didn’t, and it paid off, because he saw Minho in the hallway on Tuesday. They made eye contact and Minho offered him a small smile. He smiled back and kept walking to English, feeling a little bit lighter.

One look from Minho – just one little smile, and the knot that had been ever-present in Jisung’s chest loosened. It should have scared him, it shouldn’t have been so serious. But within just a couple months, Minho had become that kind of person to him. Someone to ease his worries with a single glance.
Jisung found that his fear was losing that comfort, not the comfort itself.

In fourth period, he met Minho in the bathroom and everything was normal. When Jisung set his bag down and sat on the tank of the toilet as always, he asked the question that had been making him antsy since Friday. “Where have you been?”

Minho looked up at him. “Oh, did I forget to tell you?” He tilted his head. “One of my cousins graduated, so I had to go to Daejeon. We stayed there for a couple days to see family.”

Jisung suddenly felt stupid for getting so worked up over Minho’s absence. He hadn’t even been in the city. “Oh,” he smiled sheepishly. “I see. I was just curious.”
Part of him wished Minho had given him some kind of warning – all that anxiety could have been prevented. But he didn’t want to make the junior feel bad, so he kept his mouth shut. 

Minho lifted an eyebrow but didn’t ask why Jisung looked so embarrassed, which the younger boy was grateful for.

 “So… you missed it. I got into a fight.” Jisung told him, and he bit back a smile when Minho’s eyes snapped up toward him, wide and surprised.
“ You? ” Minho finally managed to ask. “Got into a fight? ” 

Jisung couldn’t stop the smile this time. He’d never seen Minho so surprised; he decided that he wanted to see this expression more. 
“Yeah. With Hwang Hyunjin.” He replied, and watched with delight when Minho’s jaw dropped slightly. “I’m not lying.” 

Minho stared for a moment longer before he turned to face Jisung fully. “How? What happened?”
Jisung looked at the wall. “Well… I was in a bad mood, and then he made a comment that kinda implied I wasn’t good enough to be friends with Felix, and it just pissed me off. So I tried to punch him, but it didn’t land, and he tried to punch me back, but Kim Seungmin stopped him.”

Minho looked like he was going to have a heart attack. “Jesus Christ.” He let out a scoff that sounded like a laugh and shook his head. “Good for you, I guess.”

Well, Jisung wasn’t expecting that. But he took it anyway, smiling at the awkward praise. “Thanks. I didn’t actually get to punch him though, but I wish I did. He’s nothing without that stupid pretty face.”  

Before Jisung’s mind could devolve into violent fantasies, he thought of something better. “Hey, you should come meet Felix and Seungmin. They’re both nice. Hyunjin’s an asshole, but you just don’t have to meet him.”

Minho looked away from Jisung. “Uh… I dunno. Maybe.” 

Jisung didn’t quite know what to make of that, but he shrugged and accepted it. “Yeah. One of these days.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

At lunch that day, Jisung was pleasantly surprised by Hyunjin’s quietness. He barely said anything the whole half hour, and not even a glance toward Jisung. He just sat next to Seungmin quietly.
Jisung was pretty sure he saw them holding hands, but he couldn’t be sure so he didn’t say anything.

At the end of the peaceful meal, Hyunjin threw something at Jisung.
He flinched when the object hit his arm, instantly tensing to retaliate. But then he looked down at what had been thrown. A slice of wrapped lemon bread, the kind they sell in the vending machine. He blinked at it in surprise, picking it up from where it landed on the ground.

He looked back up at Hyunjin, but the taller boy had already gone with Seungmin. He shifted his gaze to Felix, who looked as surprised as Jisung was.

“Well,” Felix said eventually, with a smile. “He is trying.” 

Jisung smiled back. He didn’t quite forgive Hyunjin just because he bought a slice of bread, but he understood – it was meant to be a peace offering of sorts. Maybe that was why Hyunjin was quiet today, because he didn’t want to fight Jisung anymore. 

If Hyunjin could try, then Jisung wouldn’t let him win. He would try too, and he would do it better. Forgiveness wouldn’t come immediately, but for now, they could just do their best. 

Chapter Text

Although Jisung skipped gym every day, he was otherwise a decent student. He didn’t particularly love most of his classes, but he could do his work just fine.

Except for one. Third period. Music production class, an extracurricular he’d been lucky to get into as a freshman. Usually they didn’t allow it, but he’d begged and pleaded with the staff so much over email that they’d let him in. All of his classmates were sophomores or older, but he loved the class and couldn’t bring himself to care.

The best part was that he didn’t feel out of place. He was usually paired up with a sophomore named Seo Changbin and a senior named Bang Chan, and both of them were nice people. They worked well together, too, and always got high grades on the tracks they submitted. It was a nice break from academics and a release for Jisung’s stress. Music had always been kind of like that for him. It opened up a new realm of feelings and stories that he could get lost in, escape his own reality.

Although recently, he’d been feeling less like he wanted to escape.

But nevertheless, he loved music and he loved his class. Since he’d been making friends recently with Felix and the other two, he decided to try and become friends with Chan and Changbin, not just passing acquaintances.

“Have you guys found a good guitar part for this yet?” Jisung asked them as they stared at the beat they’d created. Their assignment was to make a backtrack to a video where they introduced themselves and the kind of music they were into. 

“Nah,” Chan replied. “I don’t think we need it anymore, honestly. Just the track sounds good to me.”
Changbin just nodded along. “Yeah, I agree. Let’s just keep it as is.”

The conversation went nowhere, and Jisung huffed quietly and attempted to keep it going. “So… do either of you want to do music when you’re out of high school?”
Chan glanced over at him and smiled. “I definitely do.”
Changbin looked wistfully at the screen. “I think I’ll just keep it as a hobby. I want to get a fitness degree to work in that field, y’know.”

Jisung nodded. Information he stored away in his brain. He didn’t know if it would be useful or not, but he would remember it anyway.
“That’s cool. Chan hyung, what kind of music do you want to make?” He asked the senior curiously. He received a smile in response. “All kinds, really. I like everything.”

Jisung nodded and adjusted the volume of the bass on his computer. “That’s cool. I think I want to do music too, I just don’t know what.”
Chan patted his shoulder. “No one knows what they’re going to do in freshman year. Don’t worry.”

They carried on with a casual conversation while they worked, and Jisung didn’t really think too much. Until Chan brought something up that made him snap into attention immediately.

“Jisung, did you ever resolve your fight with your friend?” 

When Jisung met Chan’s gaze, he hated the way it looked like Chan knew something. He shifted in his seat and nodded, his eyes fixed on the Converse on his feet. “Yeah…we’re fine now."
“Who is it?” Changbin asked, and Chan looked over with interest as well. Jisung smiled nervously. “Ah… a junior named Lee Minho. You probably don’t know him. He’s kinda quiet.” 

Both of Jisung’s upperclassmen widened their eyes at the same time. “Lee Minho?” Chan echoed. “I know him. He’s in my gym class. He seems like kind of a loner.”

Jisung wasn’t surprised at Chan’s evaluation of Minho, but he felt the need to say something about it. “He seems like a loner, but he’s really nice. I don’t know if he has friends besides me, but… I like him.” 

Chan and Changbin both went quiet, staring at Jisung and then at each other. The youngest was confused at their reaction for a moment before he realized the word choice he had accidentally used.

I like him.

“Wait, I didn’t mean–” He waved his hands around in panic. “Not like that. I like him as a person, you know? Like, his personality, he’s a good person, and I like spending time with him, and he’s handsome, y’know, it’s impossible for me to not like him, he’s a good friend…”

He realized that he was rambling, and shut his mouth. Embarrassment washed over him as he saw the knowing looks in both of his classmates’ eyes. “Um… really. We’re just friends.” 

Chan nodded slowly. “Right… anyway, that’s nice that you’re friends with him.”
Jisung smiled nervously. “Yeah.” 

At the end of class, Chan held his phone out to Jisung. “Hey, put your number in. We can make a group chat.”

Jisung looked at the phone, open to the ‘new contact’ screen, and then at Chan. A slow smile spread across his lips. “Alright,” he replied as he typed in his phone number.

They texted each other in their little trio group chat for hours that night, getting to know each other and sharing stories. Jisung found himself feeling light and looking forward to going to school the next day, not just for the hour with Minho – but for lunch with Felix, and for music with Chan and Changbin. 

Maybe high school wasn’t so bad after all.

The next day in fourth period, Jisung sat side-by-side with Minho on the floor of their stall. They were debating the best ingredients to put on toast – Jisung was confident that it was peanut butter but Minho argued it was cream cheese. Cream cheese! Guys with piercings always turned out to be weird.

“Cream cheese belongs on bagels,” Jisung argued. “Not on toast. Peanut butter is obviously better, it pairs with the texture better.”
Minho scoffed. “No, cream cheese can be used on anything, seriously. Have you ever spread it on a sliced up banana?”
“What?!”

Their casual banter continued until there came a lull in the conversation and Jisung remembered what he’d talked about with Chan and Changbin yesterday.

“Hey,” he said, turning toward Minho fully. “Do you know a senior named Bang Chan?”
Minho glanced at him. “Bang Chan? Yeah, I know him. I have gym with him. I used to talk to him sometimes when I was a freshman… he was nice to me. Why?”

Jisung smiled a bit, intrigued. “Oh, that’s nice. I have music production with him, and we were talking about you.”
Minho raised an eyebrow. “About me?” 

Jisung realized he probably shouldn’t have said that. He smiled sheepishly. “Uh… yeah. Nothing bad.” He tried to get out of it, knowing he couldn’t just tell Minho he confided in Chan about their little misunderstanding when Minho kissed him the first time.

Minho tilted his head. “Well, what was it then?” He asked. Jisung wasn’t meeting his gaze, but he could feel the sharp eyes on him, and the back of his neck felt hot. “Um,” he wet his lips nervously. “It was really nothing. Just talking about, uh, how I’m friends with you and stuff. And Chan said he had gym with you. That’s it.”

Jisung hated how Minho’s eyes forced him to talk. Ever since the first time they had met, he had never been able to keep anything from the junior. It should have made him uncomfortable. Normally, he would have bolted from a situation like this. But Minho didn’t scare him.

“I see,” was all Minho said. And Jisung didn’t hate the silence that followed. He shut his eyes and rested his head back against the wall. He didn’t hate it when his head was guided onto a shoulder instead. 

He didn’t hate anything about this thing with Minho, and there was nothing in him telling him to run, run, run as far as he could.
For the first time in a long time, sitting on the floor of a bathroom stall, Jisung felt true peace settle over him in the form of a pinky finger gingerly touching his own.

Chapter Text

Despite the grade difference, it was easy to get along with Chan and Changbin. It only took a month for Jisung to feel like he could actually categorize them as friends, people he trusted. People he enjoyed talking to, and felt safe giving his time to. 
Maybe Jisung’s freshman year wasn’t as much of a bust as he originally thought it was going to be. 

The three of them had been working on a track for a few days now and were just finishing it up. As Jisung debated whether electric guitar or bass sounded better in the background, Chan swiveled his chair.
“Hey,” the senior smiled. “I was just thinking. How did you and Minho meet, anyway?” 

Jisung’s eyes snapped up when he heard Minho’s name. He returned Chan’s smile, a little embarrassed when he realized how quick his attention was grabbed. “Uh… well, we met in the bathroom. I was skipping, and he came in. I drew some stuff on the wall and he asked me about it. Then we started running into each other more, then… y’know. It was just kind of natural.”

Changbin had been listening in, too, and he laughed at Jisung’s explanation. “Through the bathroom? That’s certainly a way to meet someone.”
Jisung couldn’t help but agree. He wondered if his relationship with Minho would be different if they’d met somewhere else, like in a mutual class or even outside of school. Maybe he wouldn’t be so emotionally attached to the older boy that way…

“You guys seem pretty close,” Chan said, curling his finger in his short hair. “And you talk about him a lot. Are you guys…?” He smirked at Jisung, who sputtered out a denial immediately. 

Chan let the topic go, but it buzzed around in Jisung’s mind for the rest of class. How could he have this type of relationship with Minho – the kind where they were vulnerable, talked every day, held hands, even kissed – and not be dating?

Maybe Minho just didn’t want to pursue something like that with Jisung. Maybe he saw this thing they had going on as casual, something not worth taking seriously. 

And who said he’s good enough to call Lee Minho his boyfriend?
He couldn’t help but scoff quietly at himself.

Changbin shifted beside him, adjusting their digital EQ panel. Jisung blinked at the screen, staring it down like it might offer him an answer, a solution, anything. 

By the time the bell rang, Jisung’s head was still full of thoughts. Despite his efforts to push this internal monologue away, he couldn’t help but think about it even as he made his way toward their bathroom. Why aren’t we together? What is this meant to be?

Hanging out with Minho dissolved Jisung’s worries, even just temporarily. Minho’s hand on his arm felt like it was burning through his sleeve. He had no space to fret about things when he was so close to the other boy like this.

They sat around and talked while they traced the tips of their markers over the white tile. Almost half of the wall had been filled up by their hands, pieces of themselves that would never go away. 

“Jisung,” Minho called his name softly, and Jisung paused his transcription of a song to look over. He blinked when he saw the older boy’s expression. It seemed…almost nervous. He moved his feet to face Minho directly, giving all of his attention.  

“I was gonna ask,” Minho coughed. “If maybe you were… free on Sunday.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened into circles. His heart did something weird in his chest, making it feel tight. And yet, it wasn’t suffocating like anxiety was. It was light and it spread from his chest to his stomach to the tip of his ears.
“...on Sunday?” He echoed, swallowing. The weekend. Outside of school. Outside of their stall.

“Well,” he cleared his throat. Get yourself together, Jisung. “I might be. I mean, I probably am, but you know I’m so busy all the time, I’ll have to check…”

He intended to try and be nonchalant about the whole thing, but the little monologue just ended up embarrassing him. Jisung never had plans, and even if he did, he would drop them to do whatever Minho had planned in a heartbeat.

“...Yes, I’m free.” He finally said, looking away so he didn’t have to see Minho’s amused expression.
“Thank you for clearing your very busy schedule for me,” the other said, and Jisung hated (loved) how he could hear the smile on Minho’s face. “I was wondering if Your Royal Highness would like to have coffee with a poor old commoner like me.”

Jisung coughed and then started choking on his own spit. Minho’s hand on his back shut him up quickly, and he sat up straight. The hand wasn’t there anymore but it felt like he had been branded with an iron in the shape of it. 

“I suppose I can spare time for the people,” Jisung played along. “Especially the elderly.”
He loved the way Minho’s expression became indignant when he heard the younger boy indirectly call him old.
“Hey!” He scoffed. “I am not elderly. I’m only two years older than you…” 

Their banter continued for a while as they sat on the floor drawing and laughing and – Jisung didn’t know when Minho’s hand had joined with his own but he didn’t see any reason to remove it. The warmth spread from his palm up his arm to his heart to his face. He hoped that his face wasn’t red, because his ears felt hot.

For now, he didn’t need to worry about anything – and he wasn’t concerned about whether Minho really liked him or not. For now, he could just relax in the warmth that Minho blessed him with. 

He could worry about all of that other stuff later.

Chapter Text

On Sunday morning, Jisung woke up at six with the jitters. He couldn’t stop thinking about his meetup with Minho – he didn’t know if he should classify it as a date or a hangout . “Hangout” felt too casual, but… “date” felt like a leap he didn’t know if he was allowed to take.

He spent almost two hours getting ready. Picking out an outfit suddenly felt monumental, like he was trying out for a fashion show instead of just getting coffee with his friend.

Friend?

Eventually, Jisung decided on a striped black and white long-sleeved shirt, layered with a loose black sleeveless top over it. He completed it with black leather pants and combat boots. He worried if it was too much, too alternative, but he took a breath and decided to just go with it.
For good measure, he lined his eyes in black and pressed some powder onto his cheeks before leaving once the clock hit eight-thirty.

Minho had sent him the address of a cafe that wasn’t too far from his house. It looked cute online and the reviews weren’t bad. Jisung walked there, hoping that the fresh air would soothe his nerves a bit.
It didn’t. By the time he was almost there, he felt like he was going to explode. 

Jisung figured he would have to wait for Minho to get there. The junior seemed like the type to be late to things, maybe to prove a point or maybe because he just didn’t care.
Jisung was about to assume a spot waiting outside the door when he saw a familiar figure already there.

He paused in his tracks, gripping the hem of his shirt. His heart beat against his throat, and he tried to swallow it down. His foot moved forward hesitantly, and the sound of his boot against concrete got Minho’s attention. 

Minho looked up at him, immediately pocketing the phone in his hand. “Hey,” he greeted Jisung, wetting his lips with his tongue. Jisung mirrored him. “Hi.” 

They both stood around shifting on their feet for a moment. Jisung looked down at Minho’s outfit; so much more casual than his. Just a blue hoodie and jean shorts that went down to his knees. Jisung’s face burned with self-consciousness at his own outfit which suddenly seemed like too much for such a casual outing.
Because that’s what this was. Just an outing with no significance, between two friends. 

Minho moved toward the door and then opened it, holding it in place for Jisung to go in first. The gesture was small but it made Jisung want to cry. Minho was so nice without even trying.

“Wanna order?” Minho asked and Jisung nodded. They made their way to the counter. Jisung’s eyes scanned over the menu and he settled on just an americano – it was too early to be adventurous or drink fifty grams of sugar. 

“What do you want?”
The question startled Jisung, and he jumped a bit before he could answer. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I’m thinking maybe just an iced americano.” He smiled sheepishly, and Minho raised an eyebrow. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Jisung didn’t think anything of that question Minho asked him at first. But then, the older boy turned to the barista and told her he would like to order a caramel latte and an iced americano.

“Wait, what are you– what are you doing?” Jisung blurted out, stepping forward to try and stop him. Minho glanced at him questioningly. “I’m ordering for us?”

Jisung blinked rapidly. “You’re not…planning on paying for me, are you?” He asked nervously. Minho tilted his head at him. “Of course I am. I asked you out, so I’ll pay for your drink.” 

Poor Jisung had never wanted to die so badly. But at the same time, he had never loved his life so much. Giddiness battled anxiety in his chest, making him a little nauseous. “You don’t have to do that.” He said, his voice a little breathy as he tried to calm down. The part of him that was afraid to impose on others wanted to snatch Minho’s card away. But the part of him that craved affection was buzzing. Pretty upperclassman buying me coffee. Pretty upperclassman spending time with me. Pretty upperclassman likes me enough to use his money on me. 

  “Let me,” Minho said, his voice so uncharacteristically gentle it made Jisung’s knees weak. Fuck , he was done for. He was so dumbfounded that he couldn’t even respond, just watched as the junior tapped his card on the reader. They received their coffees shortly and looked for somewhere to sit.

“So,” Minho started the conversation casually once they found a table. “How’s your day?”
Jisung tried and failed to suppress a smile. “Well, it’s only nine in the morning, so… nothing’s really happened yet. But, seeing you is nice.” 

Minho looked a little surprised by Jisung’s words, but he smiled back. “Oh, really? That’s nice… it’s good to see you too. Outside of school.”
His eyes moved from Jisung’s face down to his outfit, and the younger boy tried not to squirm. He couldn’t help but feel overdressed compared to Minho and his cute hoodie. Wait– what? No, Jisung did not think Minho was cute.

“Maybe I should have put on something nicer,” Minho sighed as he looked at Jisung’s clothes. “I feel underdressed.”
Jisung wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “Really? I was just thinking I’m overdressed.”
Minho smiled. “We’re on the same kind of wavelength, I guess.”

That stupid comment had no right to make Jisung’s heart feel warm. Was it true? The two of them were so similar that they had the same kind of thoughts? 

Jisung coughed to clear his mind of that dangerous train of thought. If he did too much thinking, he might make himself delusional.
“Do you have to be back home by a certain time?” He asked. Minho glanced up at him and then shook his head. “No, my parents don’t really care where I am or what I do.”

Jisung immediately felt a little guilty for asking that. To most people, that would sound amazing – parents that let you do whatever, no curfew, no location tracking. Total freedom. But Jisung knew the truth; that Minho’s parents weren’t chill, they really didn’t care enough about Minho to check in on him.

He quietly moved his chair a little closer, moved his foot so that his ankle pressed against Minho’s under the table. Warmth spread into his fingertips when Minho didn’t move away.

They sat in the cafe and talked for almost two hours. Jisung felt like he was sitting on a cloud instead of a wooden chair. Light and warmth were engraving themselves into his skin, his bones, his DNA – Minho was shaping him into a different sort of person. With Minho, Jisung felt like he could become the sun if he tried hard enough. 

“Shall we take a walk?” Minho proposed, after looking at the time on his phone. Jisung was a little surprised, but the weather was nice, so he saw no reason to refuse. “Sure.” 

They got up and out of the cafe. The fresh air felt nice on Jisung’s skin but it didn’t do much to soothe his nerves. Being with Minho in stall seven was one thing. Safe and familiar. Outside of school, alone – it was a whole different beast. They had no time limit. No walls to confine them and shield them from the eyes of outsiders. 

Outsiders. How did they perceive Jisung now? Did he look like a mess? Did he look awkward or ugly next to confident, beautiful Minho? Or maybe he looked as happy as he felt. How did they look together?

Did they look like they were on a date? 

The thought made Jisung stop for a second. He stared at Minho’s back for a second before hurrying to catch up to him once more. His hands felt uncomfortably clammy. Was this a date? Did it seem like one? If it was, shouldn’t they be holding hands? Jisung didn’t want Minho to touch his hands when they were sweaty. He would be scarred for life.

They walked along a path in a park. It was beautiful, but Jisung could barely focus on putting one foot in front of the other, let alone the flowers and birds. He resisted the urge to look at Minho. The older boy must be glowing in the sun, maybe his hair would be that pretty shade of brown in the light. 

Maybe Minho was secretly a mind reader, because he nudged Jisung with his elbow, snapping the younger boy out of his tangle of thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” – A gentle question. Jisung almost passed out.

His impulse was to reply “nothing’s wrong.” But his mouth betrayed him and all of his survival instincts, because he did not mean to ask the question that tumbled out of his mouth in response.

“Is this a date?”

Jisung immediately put a hand over his mouth. He didn’t dare to look up at Minho. He was afraid he would see… anything. Any reaction Minho gave couldn’t possibly be good news for Jisung. He was screwed no matter what.

Minho was silent, unmoving. Jisung’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding in his ears. The back of his neck burned, and his stomach churned. He was going to throw up if Minho didn’t say something, say something, say something, say something–

“If you want it to be, then yes, it is.”

Jisung’s head snapped up so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. His wide eyes took in the small smile on Minho’s lips, the expression on his face that seemed nonchalant but Jisung could tell he was hiding a bit of nervousness. 

“I do,” Jisung breathed out. “I want– I want it to be. A date.”

Minho’s smile got a little bit wider and Jisung just barely restrained himself from getting on his knees and begging for marriage.

“Alright, then. It’s a date.”

Jisung was completely, abysmally, magnificently screwed. 

Chapter Text

Jisung hadn’t yet managed to persuade Minho to come to lunch with him, Felix, and the others. But now that he knew Chan was acquainted with Minho, he had his heart set on that instead – hanging out with Chan, Changbin, and Minho all together. Besides Felix, that was all of his closest friends in one place. 

He approached Minho in their stall with a saccharine smile on his face and a very friendly “hello.” He sat down beside the junior, who was now eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Hello…” Minho replied slowly. “What’s up with you?”
Jisung scoffed at him. “Nothing is up with me. I’m just greeting you kindly.”

Minho gave him a sideways look but returned to doodling a cat on the wall. Jisung fidgeted for a moment before the question just burst from his mouth, too excited to contain it. “Are you free after school?” 

Jisung had never seen Minho’s head turn so fast in the whole time they’d known each other. The wide-eyed look the older boy was sporting made Jisung giggle.
After a moment of stunned silence, he got the answer he wanted. “Um, no… I’m not doing anything. Why?”

A smile spread across Jisung’s face, and he used his best pleading look. “I’m hanging out with Chan hyung and Changbin hyung after school, and I thought you should come.” 

Minho froze for a moment, hesitance written across his face. “...Are you sure? I don’t think that’s–”
“Of course!” Jisung interrupted. “I want you to come. Please?”

Over the course of Jisung’s life, puppy eyes hadn’t worked every time, but fate must have been in his favor that day because Minho seemed to deflate – or maybe the right word was melt.
“Okay,” he gave in. “I’ll go. What are you guys doing?”

Jisung grinned and he fist-pumped the air like a loser. But Minho had never judged him for acting like a loser, so Jisung didn’t even think twice about being lame anymore.
“Yes! And we’re just getting pizza. Nothing special.”
Minho hummed in response. “Alright. That’s fine.”

Jisung looked at him for a moment, and the smile tugged itself wider. “You look good today.”
He didn’t even think twice about saying it; the words just slipped out of his mouth, purely as he thought them. 

But again, Minho snapped his gaze towards Jisung, taken aback. He stared at the younger boy for a moment before he huffed out a laugh. “You’re full of surprises today, aren’t you?”
Jisung laughed sheepishly. “Maybe. It’s true, though.”

Minho returned the smile and Jisung’s heart almost burst in his chest. It was inexplicably… fond and he felt that he might throw up on the spot.

They spent fourth period talking and drawing, and the rest of Jisung’s classes felt like they were getting dragged on and on. But eventually, the day did come to an end, and he sprinted out of his class and down the stairs.
He found Minho in the courtyard, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt to get his attention. “Minho hyung.”

The junior turned around, and when he saw Jisung he smiled a bit. “You look out of breath.”
Jisung huffed. “Yeah, I was running.”
Minho chuckled. “Aww, just to see me? I’m flattered.”

The back of Jisung’s neck burned and he hit Minho’s shoulder. “Shut up. Come on.” He tugged on Minho’s shirt, leading him towards the road, where he found Chan’s car. They got in the back seat, greeting Chan and then Changbin, who was also sitting in the front. 

“Thanks for coming, Minho,” Chan addressed the junior. “Jisung was really excited.”
Minho smiled, but Jisung’s entire face felt like it was on fire. “Chan hyung! Don’t tell him that!” He whined. 

The day before, when he was making the plan to get pizza with Chan and Changbin, he had sheepishly asked if he was allowed to invite Minho along. When the two other boys agreed, Jisung had smiled like a fool and said ‘I’ll ask him when I see him tomorrow.’ Remembering that entire moment made Jisung want to curl up and die from embarrassment.

When they got to the pizza place, they all walked in together and Jisung looked around. It seemed to be going for a retro look, but all of the decorations were just tacky. Brick walls, bright neon signs, too many posters and wall clocks. It was a little overwhelming, but the brush of Minho’s arm against his own brought Jisung back down to earth.

The four of them sat at a booth in the back and ordered a large pepperoni pizza. They talked while they waited, and Jisung’s heart warmed as he noticed Minho relaxing and talking to Chan as the senior worked to make him feel welcomed. 

“I’m more of a cat person,” Minho was saying. “But… I guess if I was forced to have a dog, then I would take care of it, y’know.” He earned some nods and hums of general approval from Chan and Changbin, who were both dog people. 

“Do you have cats?” Chan asked the junior in response. Jisung’s heart squeezed in his chest when he watched Minho’s eyes light up – as cliche as it was, they truly did start to sparkle – and start talking about his two cats Soonie and Doongie, who he considered his children.

When the pizza arrived, they all took a couple slices and continued talking about random things while they ate. The atmosphere was relaxed and Jisung found himself without any guard up, and no reason to filter himself. He laughed a lot, and with Minho doing the same next to him, his heart felt as warm as the food.

“I love the crust on this,” Jisung commented as he broke a piece off, satisfied with how it crunched under his teeth. Minho gave him a jokingly judgemental look. “What? Soft crust is so much better, you weirdo.” 

Jisung scoffed. “No, it isn’t. Soft crust is like… go on, give us nothing! Crunchy crust actually has substance to it.”
Minho side-eyed him but gave up the argument. Triumphant, Jisung continued eating his crust. The conversation went somewhere else – apparently Chan hated exotic toppings on pizza, but one time he had pineapple in his hamburger at a restaurant.

Sometime amid the talking, Minho’s hand slid over and he dropped a few crusts on Jisung’s plate. He tried to be nonchalant and smooth, but when he withdrew his hand he almost knocked over Jisung’s water. He looked embarrassed when the other three boys laughed at him fondly, but Jisung’s heart felt like it was going to explode. He couldn’t take his eyes off Minho.
Recently, he had been truly realizing how kind Minho was – the way he would hold the door for Jisung, how he paid for both of them at the cafe, the way he let Jisung use his Sharpie when the ink ran out. 

Knowing that the junior had such softness in his heart made him seem even more gorgeous. Even under the dim lighting and neon signs of the pizzeria, Jisung thought he was so beautiful. Something invisible was forcing his eyes to stay on the older boy’s side profile, tracing over every line, admiring the little details. His long eyelashes, the sharp slope of his nose, the way his upper lip was fuller than his lower lip, the way his eyes curved when they smiled. Jisung had noticed these things before, but they felt different now. Minho wasn’t even looking at him, and yet Jisung’s heart was racing.

Chan offered to drive all of them home since it was getting late. They all piled in his car the same way they did earlier, and the lights of the city flashed over their faces as they made their way to Minho’s place first.

The car ride home was mostly quiet. When they pulled up to Minho’s apartment, he looked over at Jisung. When their eyes met, a smile automatically tugged at Jisung’s lips and he froze when Minho’s gaze dipped downwards towards that smile.

“Um. Bye, Jisung,” the junior caught himself and tried to act normal, but his voice had that soft tinge to it – the same tone that made Jisung’s legs feel weak in the cafe. “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Jisung’s smile got a little wider, even though his heart was racing. “Yeah… no problem. Thanks for coming. See you.”
Minho gave him a little smile in return and then bid farewell to Chan and Changbin. He was gone a moment later, and… then came the teasing.

“Jisung, what was that?” Changbin smirked at him from the passenger seat. “Gross. You guys are gross.”
Jisung’s face heated up. “What?! We didn’t do anything! It was nothing!” 

“The defensive tone you’re using makes me think it was something…”
“Okay, you listen here! There is nothing –”

The banter continued until Changbin was dropped off. Jisung stole his spot in the passenger seat, and it was quiet for a few minutes.

“You know,” Chan broke the silence. “I think you and Minho really do look good together.”

Jisung coughed and looked over at him. “We aren’t…dating.” He shifted in his seat. In his mind, he wished silently that it wasn’t true.
He didn’t know when he started wishing that, and he didn’t know why it didn’t scare him.

Chan hummed. “Well… I can tell how much he cares about you. And vice versa. Y’know, not in a bros type of way either. The way you were staring at him earlier was sickening.”

Jisung’s neck felt like it was burning. “Stop! I mean… he’s gorgeous, can you blame me?”
He earned a chuckle in response from Chan. “Jisung, that was not the look of someone just admiring a pretty face. That was the look of love, or something.”

Love.

Jisung stopped smiling. He stared at Chan’s hands on the steering wheel. The look of love? Is that what it seemed like to outside viewers? Did he seem like he was in love?

No, it wasn’t love . He was too young to know what that felt like. But enough time had passed and his heart had raced enough that he knew there was something special in his heart reserved for Minho. He couldn’t keep denying it. 

“But, really…” Chan continued, breaking Jisung out of his thoughts. “I was watching you two tonight. And I can tell. You guys didn’t do anything particular or loud to show your affection but it was there, in every little interaction. Like how he gave you that crust when you said you liked it. He likes you, Jisung.” 

Jisung wished right then that Chan was right. He wished so fiercely that it surprised him. He had wanted things before, but right now the yearning in his heart was so strong that it dwarfed everything else. He couldn’t imagine Minho having feelings for him. But maybe it was true. Obviously there had to be something – they’d kissed each other, after all, and people don’t do that if they feel nothing. 

“Maybe,” he replied, staring out the window. A sudden realization came to him as he kept thinking. As he was juggling the possibility of Minho liking him, he didn’t feel scared. Anxiety was not gripping his throat and shaking him around. Doubt did not tear at his organs. There was only a small worm of uncertainty wriggling around, instead of a snake ready with poisonous venom. 

It made him realize how deeply he had rooted trust in Minho. He knew that Minho would not break his heart or his soul even if there was no romance. All his life, he had been too afraid to place his glass heart in someone's hands like that.

Matters of the heart – Jisung had always avoided them out of fear. But now, he was not scared. And he realized now that Minho was the first person he had ever come to trust this wholeheartedly. He had always been afraid, but now he was letting Minho hold his heart and mold it into something worthy of love. 

He looked out the window and a small smile tugged at his lips. He wanted to talk to Minho now, to be near him and stare at his side profile while he had this realization. But instead, it nestled quietly in his heart, ready to make itself a home and bury itself in Jisung’s identity. 

Han Jisung, sixteen years old.
Likes cheesecake, iced americanos, and Lee Minho. 

Chapter Text

Jisung tried his best to stay away from Hyunjin, but the latter was just… everywhere. Everyone always talked about him, and he was always hovering around either Felix or Seungmin. 

And… now. Jisung was at the mall with Seungmin and Felix… and Hyunjin was there too. They didn’t exchange any words, barely even a glance, but Jisung could feel the slight tension between them still. Even after the whole bread thing, he couldn’t say that he loved Hyunjin. The words still stung and he still used less eyeliner than he used to. 

But still, Hyunjin was a part of his life whether he liked it or not. Felix adored him and… whatever was going on with him and Seungmin didn’t seem to be going away. Sometimes he caught them smiling at each other or holding hands and it made him want to throw up. Seungmin really didn’t have good taste in men.

Hyunjin had been complaining of the cold for the past ten minutes and Jisung was getting irritated. He sharply pulled gloves off of his own hands and threw them at Hyunjin. “Do me a favor. Put these on and shut up.” 

Jisung wanted to die when all three of the other boys looked at him in shock. The silence was loud, and he was relieved when Felix laughed and Hyunjin muttered a reluctant thanks.
“It was just to make him be quiet,” Jisung said gruffly to no one in particular. He didn’t miss Felix’s giggle. 

Jisung was a little bit out of his depth. In a mall, with three friends. Well, two friends and one person that he kind of tolerated. What do people even do in a mall? He didn’t have a job or a lot of money to buy any of the overpriced stuff they sold. He kind of just tagged along as Felix and Hyunjin plowed through clothing stores. He took comfort in the fact that Seungmin also looked like he wanted to go home.

Eventually Hyunjin and Felix hit their budget and gave up buying any more clothes.
“Thank God,” Seungmin huffed. “If I had to judge one more outfit I would have caught the next bus home.”

Hyunjin scoffed at him. “Excuse you.”
Seungmin gave him a look and then they both giggled at each other. Jisung gagged.

“Can we go to one more place before we leave?” Seungmin asked, abandoning the banter with Hyunjin. When he received agreement, he led the way to a stationary store.

Hyunjin groaned. “Seungminnie, really? Stationary? You’re so lame…”
“I am not lame! You just don’t appreciate fine art.”
“Yes, I do! I’ll have you know I actually…”

Jisung was getting annoyed by Hyunjin’s voice, so he tuned it out and started looking around the store. He wasn’t particularly opinionated on notebooks or pens but they were nice to look at. 

A red sign caught his eye on a shelf of markers. He looked up and saw a box of Sharpies on clearance. Twelve of them for only 4,000 won.
Those would last me and Minho a while. We could do lots of drawings with that many.

He picked up the box and tried not to smile as he imagined Minho’s reaction to him bringing in an entire box of Sharpies just for them to draw with. He would probably call Jisung ridiculous and then smile. 

Jisung brought the box to the register and checked out, then rejoined his friends. They were trying to convince Seungmin to not spend 20,000 won on a single notebook, but he was adamant that he needed this particular one. The sigh Hyunjin and Felix let out at the same time made Jisung giggle quietly. 

They went their separate ways after that; Jisung took the bus home and listened to music as he looked out the window. His face got warm when he caught himself listening to a love song and thinking of Minho. 

When he got home, he put the Sharpies in a pencil case by themselves and into his bag for the next day. Thoughts of drawing more things on the stall’s tiles filled his mind – but his focus wasn’t completely on the drawings themselves, but more on the boy that would be beside him.

Jisung sighed. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, thinking about his upperclassman this much. Acting like a lovestruck maiden or something… he sighed again and sat at his desk, thinking he might as well start on some homework.

After two questions, Jisung’s gaze wandered to the case of Sharpies sitting on the edge of his desk. He tapped his pencil against the wood and sighed. His eyes flicked to his phone, and an idea popped into his head that gave him a little bit of anxiety.

He picked up his phone and navigated to Minho’s contact. The profile name stared back at him, and suddenly he felt that it might not be such a good idea. His finger hovered over the button and he took a deep breath…

..and then put the phone down. “What the hell am I doing?” He grumbled to himself, mussing up his hair in frustration. “I’m acting like a coward.”

Jisung tried to focus on his homework, he really did. But the thought of hearing Minho’s voice was distracting. What if he was getting ready for bed? If he was tired? Oh, god, what if he had an even more attractive voice when he was tired? The back of Jisung’s neck prickled at the thought.

He took three deep breaths and then opened Minho’s contact again. His finger hovered over the button, then it moved away, and then with a burst of determination he quickly pressed it before he could chicken out again. 

The sound of the phone ringing made Jisung want to die. What if Minho didn’t pick up? It would be so humiliating. What if he didn’t want to call Jisung? What if he declined? What if–

“Hello?”

Minho’s voice broke Jisung out of his anxious spiral. He snapped to attention and sat up straight. “Oh, uh, hi.” He winced at how awkward he sounded.
Something rustled on the other end, and then Minho’s voice came through again. “What’s up? Everything alright?”

Jisung coughed. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just, uh… thought I’d call you.” He decided he would rather die than admit he just wanted to talk to Minho so badly he couldn’t wait for the next day. 

Minho chuckled and Jisung’s heart pounded in his throat. “Oh, sure. Yeah, I can talk. Just laying in bed.”
So Jisung was right… Minho was just getting ready for bed, then. It seemed a bit too intimate to be talking to the older boy in a situation like this. He stood up and started walking around his room aimlessly. 

“Yeah… so, how was your day?” Jisung asked awkwardly, floundering for a topic, something interesting to say so Minho wouldn’t get bored. He received a hum in response. “It was alright. Yours?”
“Yeah, it was good.”

The silence that followed made Jisung want to throw up. He didn’t know why it was so awkward to talk over the phone when their conversations face-to-face flowed so naturally. He tried to tell himself it’s just Minho, don’t be nervous and that worked for a few seconds before he remembered that he had all these weird feelings for Minho. The nervousness prickled in his veins as he paced around.

“Um, I went to the mall today,” he said suddenly, just to break the silence. “With Felix and Seungmin. Hyunjin was there too. We didn’t do much. But I bought some Sharpies. They were on sale.”
Minho was quiet for a second before he chuckled softly. “Sounds like fun. How many Sharpies?”

Jisung’s chest felt fuzzy and he breathed out a sigh of relief. Minho didn’t seem awkward. I’ll just talk to him like normal. I can do that. 

They talked for a while into the night – about Sharpies and Hyunjin and Minho’s cats and whether or not ketchup was considered a smoothie. It was a little more awkward than real life, but Minho was a good listener and Jisung found that he loved how his voice sounded when he was getting tired.

  The next day, Jisung and Minho decided to have lunch together. They were walking towards the cafeteria, idly chatting, until somebody called Jisung’s name from behind. He turned around and saw… Hyunjin.

His first instinct was to tense up and look at the other boy suspiciously. But he tried to keep his hackles down; Hyunjin didn’t look smug. Unusual, but certainly welcomed. That usual smirk really was quite infuriating.

“Uh,” Hyunjin coughed when he got close. “Just wanted to return these.” He held out a pair of gloves. Black ones with red fingertips. The ones he had lent Hyunjin the day before.

To say Jisung was surprised would be an understatement. He stared at Hyunjin for a moment before he accepted the gloves. “Oh, thank you.”
Hyunjin shrugged in response and then mumbled ‘bye’ before slithering away. 

Jisung was still taken aback, so he looked up at Minho. When met with a questioning look, he remembered Minho was even more clueless than he was.
“I let him borrow my gloves yesterday,” Jisung explained. “I’m just surprised he returned them. And with no insult.”

Minho didn’t react much, just hummed and looked away. “Oh, that’s nice of you.”
Jisung blinked at him, startled by the sudden distant air about the older boy. But Minho didn’t say anything else, so they silently kept walking.

When they got there, they got their lunches and sat down in the corner of the cafeteria, their usual emo-loser-boys table. But unusual was the silence between them. It made Jisung’s skin prickle and he couldn’t concentrate properly on eating. 

Eventually, the silence got too heavy and Jisung couldn’t bear it anymore. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked, putting his food down and turning to look directly at Minho.
The older boy narrowed his eyes at Jisung. “Nothing’s wrong with me.” He seemed to bristle at the question, so Jisung just stayed quiet and stared at him, clearly not buying it. 

After a few moments of enduring a doubtful stare from Jisung, Minho crumbled. “Fine. It’s just weird that you gave Hyunjin your gloves. Isn’t that a little too familiar? I thought you hated him.” 

Jisung stared at him for a moment or two, trying to process the words. When it clicked in his head, he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. “Oh. Are you jealous?” He asked, unable to resist allowing a teasing lilt to settle in his voice. 

Minho huffed at him and looked around, trying his best to seem nonchalant. “No, I’m not. Why would I be jealous?”

Obviously, Jisung didn’t believe him. He was obviously lying. But the younger boy didn’t say anything; just tried not to smile too hard as he basked in a feeling of warmth. Minho was jealous over him. Minho… maybe saw Jisung in a special way; in a way that implied Jisung was his.  

Jisung tried not to get carried away with this train of thought but it nestled itself in his brain and left in its wake a trail of soft sunlight; a special feeling he’d have to grow used to.

Feeling special was not something that happened to him often. But with Minho, he found that had grown accustomed to it. All he could hope was that he made Minho feel special too. 

Chapter Text

While Jisung very much enjoyed Minho’s little display of jealousy, he did want to soothe that worry. So he tried again to invite the junior to lunch with him and his friends.

Understandably, he was met with a weird look and a response of “are you crazy?” Nobody in their right mind would be keen to sit at a table where it was entirely possible that Hyunjin would be there. Jisung regretted telling Minho all of those stories now. 

“Please!” Jisung clasped his hands together and tried his best to give him convincing puppy eyes. “It’ll be fun. Felix and Seungmin are great people, you’ll love them. Just for today…”

Minho stared at him for a few more seconds and then sighed deeply. “Fine. But don’t ask me for this again.”
Jisung grinned and shook his hands excitedly. “Great! I promise I won’t let anything happen. Don’t worry!”

He had intended to be reassuring and kind, but apparently Minho thought it was funny, because he huffed out a laugh in response. “Gonna protect me, huh? Thanks.” He punctuated his response by messing up Jisung’s hair. 

Red-hot embarrassment flooded through Jisung’s veins. “I, uh, I didn’t say that…” he protested weakly, trying to save himself, but Minho just kept that same close-mouthed, slightly smug smile on his face. It was slightly infuriating but also made Jisung want to squeeze his face.

Nevertheless, Minho really did accompany him to lunch after their stall time. Jisung led him to the cafeteria and over to sit with Felix and Seungmin. Unfortunately, Hyunjin was also there, but he seemed to be tired, so Jisung hoped he wouldn’t make any comments today.

To Jisung’s relief… it was going well. Felix was making conversation as always, and the Australian’s friendly nature seemed to get Minho to relax a bit. He was still quiet and wasn’t talking much, but it was a start.

“So… Australia?” Minho was asking Felix. “Why are you here in Korea?”
Felix smiled in response. “Well, my family is all Korean. And I wanted to study here.”
“Oh, I see. Where were you thinking of…”

The two of them had a friendly conversation – mostly just Felix talking and Minho nodding in acknowledgement, but Jisung was content to just watch. He was low on social energy for the day and it made him happy to sit next to Minho even if they weren’t talking.

But of course, someone seemed to have a problem. Hyunjin detached himself from Seungmin’s arm and leaned forward. “Hey, Jisung.”
Minho and Jisung both pursed their lips at the exact same time and then looked at him. “What?” Jisung asked, trying to seem like he wasn’t nervous. He desperately wanted Hyunjin to shut up so that nothing could potentially get ruined. He had finally managed to convince Minho to come meet his friends, and if it got screwed up he might never get the chance again.

“Your little boyfriend there.” Hyunjin pointed at Minho. Jisung’s ears burned at that label and he resisted the urge to correct it. “I dunno what you see in him. He seems so closed-off and like, untrustworthy. You gotta be careful around guys like that.”

Everything at their table went completely silent. The air was thick between Hyunjin and Jisung and the latter could feel that Minho was tense beside him. He was going to bolt. The thought made Jisung panic a bit and he instinctively reached out and grabbed Minho’s hand. Don’t go.

“Don’t say that.” Jisung said to Hyunjin, letting his voice take on a warning edge. “Minho is my closest friend. And he’s a good person. He’s always been good to me and the people around him . ”
He resisted the very strong urge to add “unlike you” at the end of that sentence. He didn’t want to start a fight. Not in front of Minho. 

Luckily, Hyunjin had the sense to shut up (assisted by Seungmin slapping him on the shoulder and calling him an idiot) but Minho still seemed wildly uncomfortable. It made Jisung’s heart ache, because he knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of Hyunjin’s snarky comments. So he stood up.
“Come on,” he said, pulling Minho’s hand up with him. “Let’s go.” 

Minho flashed him a grateful look and they threw the remainder of their lunches away before walking out of the cafeteria, hands joined and eyes down.
They retreated to their safe space – stall seven. They sat on the floor, legs touching, as they scribbled nonsense on the wall. Jisung never let go of Minho’s hand. 

“I trust you,” Jisung suddenly told Minho, pausing his drawing to look over at the other boy. They were sitting so close, he almost forgot what he had to say when Minho turned his head toward him. But he kept talking, hoping that it was what Minho needed to hear.
“You’re the person I trust the most. It makes me a little nervous. But I know you won’t hurt me.”

Minho gazed at him for a long moment and Jisung felt like he was going to melt into the tile. It was not the time to be feeling like a smitten fool, but he couldn’t help it. Even distressed, Minho looked like an angel.

“Thank you,” the junior eventually replied. “That’s… it means a lot.” He scratched the back of his head. “You’re the person I trust the most, too. It took me a while to learn how, but…”

Jisung’s heart had never exploded before, but he thought that right then was the time where it finally happened. Warmth burst into flames inside of his heart and for a second he understood why people went to war; to protect moments like these that were encased in golden inside people’s memories. To protect shy smiles and confessions of the purest kind of love. Vulnerability. 

Earlier, Jisung had proudly proclaimed that he would protect Minho at lunch. He failed to stop the comment from leaving Hyunjin’s mouth, but he hoped and prayed with all of his heart that he had managed to soothe the sting on Minho’s gentle soul. In his head, he silently promised to Minho that for the rest of his days, he would do anything to make the junior happy. 

The audacity of that promise made his ears red, and he ignored it when Minho asked him why the red was there. He didn’t need to know. Not now. 
Maybe one day when they were old and grey, he would tell Minho about that silent vow he made in the bathroom when they were in high school. But not yet. 

They had time. 

Chapter Text

Never before had Jisung seen a school year whip by so quickly. All of them before had seemed to drag out and feel like multiple years full of boredom and suffering. But that was before he met Minho. Before he had something to brighten his day and make him happy to wake up in the morning.

But as happy as he was to see the school year start to close, he felt a sadness tugging at his heart. This year he had become close with Chan, but he hadn’t thought about the fact that the older boy was a senior and he was graduating. The ceremony was after school, and Jisung wasn’t ready.

He hadn’t known Chan for very long, but in the short time they’d been friends, he had become like Jisung’s older brother. His advice and kindness left an impression on Jisung that he was sure would never go away, and the thought of going through the rest of high school without Chan to lean on seemed a little terrifying. Even though he still had upperclassmen to help him out – Minho and Changbin – it wouldn’t be the same. Chan’s stable, calm, and kind presence was not replaceable.

Minho must have sensed his sadness while they were in their stall, but he didn’t say anything. He just scooted closer and held Jisung’s hand as they doodled. And somehow, that helped more than words would have. 

After school, he went to the graduation ceremony. He asked Minho to come with him, and thankfully he agreed. They met up with Changbin and sat down together to watch. 

When Chan walked up on the stage, received his diploma, and began giving a short speech, Jisung tried so hard not to cry. But all the thoughts about how he would deal with hard situations without Chan there overwhelmed him at once and he covered his face while his shoulders shook. An arm wrapped around him, pulling him to the left and against a warm body. He knew it was Minho, so he leaned into the touch and let himself relax.

After the ceremony, Jisung went to find Chan. He had stopped crying, but as soon as he laid eyes on the older boy, the tears sprung back into his eyes. He hugged Chan tightly and sniffled into his shoulder. “You can’t leave me here,” he mumbled, his voice tight and wobbly. Chan chuckled and patted his back gently. “You’re going to do fine without me, Jisung. You’ve got other hyungs to help you out, yeah?” 

“I know, but…”  he trailed off, wiping his eyes as he pulled back slightly. “Chan hyung… I’ll miss you.” He let the words fall from his mouth without fear. Chan had never given him a reason to be afraid. 

Chan hugged him properly, patting Jisung’s hair. “I know. I’ll miss you too. But I’m not dying, y’know? I’ll still be in Korea. Just a call away.”
That brought Jisung a bit of comfort. At least he could still reach Chan, still see him sometimes. He wasn’t leaving the country. So he nodded and pulled away, wiping his eyes. “Okay… thank you, hyung.”

Jisung took a breath and then a step back, putting respectable distance between them. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand slip into his. He whipped his head around and when he saw Minho, he let out a breath. “You scared me.”
Minho looked at him with an amused smile. “Yeah, I could tell,” he replied, earning a pout from Jisung. 

Chan leaving was a bit of a blow for everybody. Even Minho, who wasn’t that close with him, seemed a little down. He looked at Chan and bowed his head slightly. “Good luck in university. And thanks for helping Jisung out.” 

Chan smiled and quietly laughed. “Sure. Now it’s your responsibility to take care of him in my place.” He said it in a joking manner, but the words seemed to make Minho nervous.
And Jisung, while touched, was a little embarrassed. “I’m right here, you know…” he protested. The way they were talking about him made him seem like there was some kind of marriage going on.

“I got it,” Minho told Chan. “I don’t know if I can be as nice as you, but I’ll take care of him.” He looked so earnest that Jisung forgot about his embarrassment and just stared at him. His vision got a little blurry as heat pressed against his eyes. There was too much emotion going on, it made it too easy for him to start crying at the smallest thing. 

Chan patted Minho on the shoulder and then excused himself to go talk to some other people. Minho looked down at Jisung and then seemed surprised when he saw the younger boy staring at him teary-eyed. “...what?”

Jisung sniffled. “I just didn’t expect you to say that sort of thing.” He wiped his cheeks as tears kept making them wet. Without Chan here, he was left without arms to hold him. Minho shifted his feet for a moment before he lifted his arms up and held them apart. 

Jisung stared at him, trying to figure out what the awkward pose was for. Was he trying to make Jisung laugh or something? But the sheepish look on Minho’s face made it click. Oh.

He took a step closer and then leaned in hesitantly. He lifted his own arms to wrap them around Minho’s waist. It was a bit awkward, but when Minho hugged him back, he gained confidence and tightened his grip. 

Even though it was stiff and they were both nervous,  it felt nice. Minho’s scent wreathing around Jisung was comforting. It wasn’t overpowering; just like warm vanilla and something woody. Masculine but not gross. Selfishly, Jisung wanted this to be the scent that he smelled whenever he hugged somebody. Forever, maybe. 

The significance of this hug did not go unnoticed by either of them. It settled over them like a blanket, and Jisung closed his eyes to relish the feeling. It wasn’t the same as hugging Chan. Chan’s hugs were warm and they enveloped Jisung completely, like a father. But hugging Minho was like being shielded; from what, he didn’t know, but he felt safe. Protected.

“Thanks, hyung,” Jisung mumbled. He didn’t know if Minho could hear him but he wanted to say it anyway. “You’re always there for me when nobody else is.”

 Minho must have heard, because he hugged Jisung tighter. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. 

After more goodbyes and comforting words between Jisung and Chan, he left with Minho to go get food before he went home. They walked to the nearest McDonalds, which Jisung was the only acceptable choice because they were both broke high schoolers. 

It was a short walk, but Jisung’s skin was hot the entire time. Minho’s hand was joined with his and it felt so much more… intentional, when it was out in public rather than in their stall. People could see them holding hands, walking closely together. Did anyone passing by think they were dating? 

When they got to their destination, they ordered food and sat down with it. Jisung was so glad to see a grease-filled meal to make him feel better that he didn’t even care if he looked crazy eating so fast. 

“Slow down,” Minho cautioned him with a small, amused smile. “Don’t choke.”
Jisung glared at him out of slight embarrassment, then lifted his head to take a break from shoveling food down his throat. “I wasn’t going to choke.” 

“Right.” Minho propped up his elbows on the table and rested his head on his hand. Jisung’s pulse stuttered; those dark eyes staring at him were not letting him breathe easily. The hold that the older boy had on him couldn’t be good for his heart. Minho could tell him to eat glass and he probably would. 

“What?” He asked quietly, not trusting himself to speak at a normal volume lest his voice shake or do something weird. Minho tilted his head and gave him a small, amused smile. “Nothing. Just looking.”

“Well, stop,” Jisung coughed. “It’s making me feel weird.”
Minho rested his hands on the table. “Weird? Bad?”

Strangely enough, Jisung didn’t feel bad. Normally if somebody stared at him, he would feel like throwing up from anxiety. Being perceived was usually terrifying. So why, even though his stomach felt jittery, did he not feel afraid? 

“No,” he replied. “Not bad.”
Minho’s smile widened just a little bit. “I don’t make you nervous?”

Jisung swallowed. “You do. But… I guess there’s a difference between nervous and anxious.”

Those dark eyes stayed on him, and Jisung tried to ignore the gaze. But he felt like Minho was reading his mind, or finding all of the secrets in his heart, and he shifted in his seat. “Stop staring.”
Minho let out a soft laugh. “Fine. I was just admiring the view.”

Jisung’s eyes widened. His heart felt like it was having palpitations. “Wha– what?”
The view? Admiring the view? What was he trying to say?

“All I’m saying is that you look nice.” Minho shrugged. Jisung’s ears burned. How was he so chill about saying that? Did he have any idea about the chaos he was wreaking on Jisung’s mental stability? 

“I… um, thank you,” he choked out, putting a handful of fries in his mouth so he had an excuse not to speak. What was he supposed to say to that? He had to stop himself from getting on his knees and begging for Minho’s eternal love right then. 

He really was easy. Just one compliment and he was planning their future. Jisung scoffed at himself and kept stuffing his mouth full of food. Minho’s eyes finally left him and he let out a sigh of relief. As much as he enjoyed Minho’s attention, his eyes were too sharp, too piercing. 

They finished their meal together and then left, walking around aimlessly. They made fun of people doing dumb things, pointed out cute shops and talked about whatever came to mind. 

Jisung’s heart was completely still, save for the times when Minho looked into his eyes and set it off. He didn’t know what to do about all these feelings; but he found that they weren’t stressing him out. Instead, they settled in his heart like a warm fire during the winter. 

“I guess we should part ways now,” Minho commented once they started to run out of energy.

Jisung tried not to be disappointed. “Oh. Yeah, it is getting late.” 

Minho offered him a small smile. “Want me to walk you home?” He offered so casually, and Jisung’s heart stuttered. 

“Huh? Um… are you sure? You don’t have to.” 

“Yes, but I want to. Can I?” Minho asked, nudging him a bit. Jisung tried his hardest to suppress a smile as his heart jumped around in his chest. “Yeah.. if you want to.”

They walked together in the direction of Jisung’s apartment, talking about the next school year; how Minho would be a senior and start preparing for college and how Jisung felt his sophomore year would be better, even without Chan there to help him. 

When they got to his place, he turned to face Minho, looking up at him. Minho looked back, and for a moment they didn’t say anything. 

“Well,” Minho shifted his gaze away for a second. “I guess I’ll see you. Maybe we can hang out over break.” 

Jisung smiled, not even bothering to try and stop it. “Yes, I hope we can. Thanks for walking me home.” 

Minho returned the smile and patted his head. “Sure. See you.” 

Jisung walked inside, feeling Minho’s eyes on his back the whole time. He went straight up to his room, flopped on his bed, and kicked his feet in the air, smiling like an idiot. 

Minho had walked him home. They’d spent so much time together. 

A giggle escaped his mouth and he punched the pillow. “Why am I acting like this…” he muttered, trying to stop smiling, but to no avail.

All the feelings in his chest felt like they were bubbling up like soda when shaken; about to explode any second. Maybe they would bubble over and spill out of him one day.

But for now, he decided to keep the cap on. Just for now. 

Chapter Text

Summer passed by in a haze. 

Jisung and Minho had spent some time together, but mostly Jisung had taken the summer to hang out with his friends – and a lot of time to himself. To think. To reflect on the past year and all of these new, complex relationships and feelings.

Before he knew it, the heat had begun to fade and he was officially in his second year of high school. He wondered if this year would have the same routines as last year. Would he have lunch with Felix, Seungmin, and Hyunjin every other day? Would Minho still take up the other days?
Would they still meet in their stall every day?

Instead of fourth period, he had gym class during third period. Anxiously, he sent Minho a photo of his schedule. 

Jisung
[schedule.jpg]
gym third period this year? what do they take me for?
this is utter blasphemy

Minho
You aren’t even gonna go, why are you complaining

Jisung
i know, but still
anyway, what do you have 3rd period

Minho
Math, unfortunately 

Jisung
willing to skip it for little old me?

Minho
Take a wild guess 

Jisung
thank you, i’m sooo honored

Minho
Go focus on your class, idiot  

Jisung decided to obey this time, putting his phone in his pocket and listening to his new chemistry teacher drone on and on about her life story and why she decided to teach chem. He found it all very boring and unnecessary, but at least he wasn’t doing real work. 

He was itching for third period. He wanted to see Minho; it had been a few weeks since he’d felt that piercing gaze on him. Jisung hated how he longed for it. 

This year’s schedule seemed a little more serious than last year’s. But still, he found two spots that felt warm on that paper: third period stall time, and his music class. It wouldn’t be the same without Chan, but he was sure Changbin was taking it again. And besides, even if he ended up alone… it was still a class focused on what he loved. 

For the sake of seeing his best friend – is that what he could consider Minho? – he sat through the rest of boring chemistry and even more boring algebra. As soon as the bell rang for third period, Jisung bolted out of the door and towards the bathrooms close to the gym. He burst through the door and peeked around the corner.

“You’re already here,” Jisung remarked with a grin as he made his way over to Minho. The older boy halfway returned the smile and waved. “My last class was closer to here than yours. Anyway, long time no see, huh?” 

“It’s only been a few weeks.” Jisung slipped into the stall and leaned against the wall, eyes staying fixed on Minho. Their stall was a normal size, but with two of them in there it was cramped. Close enough that Jisung could touch Minho if he reached out just a little. 

“I know.” Minho replied, quietly. “But still.”
Jisung tilted his head. “Yeah.”

Comfortable, intimate silence settled over them. Even after a considerable amount of time apart, Jisung still felt like he was at home here, standing next to Minho in their little safe haven. 

“So, how was your summer?” Minho asked after a few moments, turning around and uncapping a Sharpie.
Jisung hummed and mirrored him. “It was alright. Lots of time to myself. Lots of thinking.” 

“About what?” Minho asked, the tip of his marker tracing a jet-black line along the tile. 

“Stuff.” Jisung replied.
“What kind of stuff?”
“You’ll find out one day.”
“What?”

Jisung smiled to himself as his own marker tarnished the pure whiteness of the wall. The ink bled into the surface and stained it forever.
Symbolic, considering who he was with.

Maybe he would never tell Minho about the feelings that fluttered around in his chest, knocking on his ribcage, asking to be let out. Maybe they would stay there in his heart forever, permeating his bones and organs all the way down to the cells that made him up. For most people, it would sound like torture; to harbor such feelings and never speak of them to the person they were for. But to Jisung, it didn’t sound all bad. He found himself content with the idea of simply loving Minho just for the sake of loving him.

If he could call it love, that is. How could a sixteen year old boy know anything of love?
Jisung felt it in his bones. The feelings he had for Minho were not silly. They resounded from his heart all the way to his skin, to the pitch of his voice and the way he smiled. If he could call it love, then he would. What a joy it was to simply love. Because of the feelings in his heart, Jisung’s soul felt so bright. That itself must be the true meaning of love.
When Minho made him feel like he was the sun itself. 

That day in music production, Jisung was happy to see Changbin. They sat together and Jisung invited Changbin to lunch with him, and he was glad to see the gratitude on his friend’s face.

In the cafeteria, Jisung found his spot at the usual table. Seungmin was already there.
“Hi,” he greeted the other boy. “Hyunjin isn’t clinging onto you today?”
Seungmin scoffed. “No. He’s trying to convince a teacher to let him order food to the school because he wants a burger.”

Jisung snickered. “Greedy.”
“You’re telling me.” 

Changbin’s curly hair caught Jisung’s eye and he looked over at the junior. He smiled and waved him over, scooting over to make room for his friend. Once he sat down, he gestured with his hands. “Seungmin, this is Changbin, he’s a junior. Changbin, this is Seungmin, he’s nicer than he looks.” 

Changbin dipped his head to greet Seungmin, who shot Jisung a dirty look before doing the same. A casual conversation started before eventually Felix came to join them, and he hit it off with Changbin immediately. Jisung was relieved that they seemed to like each other so much; maybe he could integrate Changbin into his friend group and they could all hang out together. 

When Hyunjin came over to sit down, Jisung was nervous. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of what happened with Minho last year. But thankfully, Hyunjin was too busy fuming about how the teachers should let them get food delivered because the school lunch was so boring. Seungmin shoved a bite of a sandwich into his mouth and told him to bring his own lunch next time.

After lunch, Jisung saw Minho in the hallway by chance. He hurriedly fixed his hair and scurried over to stand directly behind him and say “boo”. Minho whipped his head around and let out a sigh when he saw Jisung. “Real funny.”

Jisung snickered. “Did you get scared?” He asked, his cheeky tone earning him a pinch on the cheek from Minho.
“No, you’re just annoying. I was trying to talk to… oh, he’s gone.”

Jisung looked at the empty space in front of Minho and slid his body over to fill it. He stood right in front of the senior and smiled. “Now you can talk to me instead.”

Minho stared at him and then scoffed, amused. “What’s wrong with you these days… yeah. I’ll talk to you.”
A smile tugged at his lips, and it delighted Jisung to no end. “Who were you talking to?” He asked, watching Minho adjust the ring he was wearing. Just a silver band.

“A freshman,” Minho replied.
Jisung gasped. “Hyung, don’t prey on freshmen. You’re a senior now.” 

That comment earned him a smack on the head from Minho. “I am not preying on freshmen! Jeez. He just had a few questions about the school. Seemed like a nice kid, so I agreed to help him.” He huffed, still indignant about Jisung’s accusation.

On the other hand, Jisung couldn’t help but smile. He’s cute. That was the only thought that he could think. Minho – dark hair, darker eyes, eyeliner, piercings – was helping a freshman figure out high school. It was somehow so endearing that he wanted to jump on him and kiss him right there.

No– stop. I can’t think like that. I’ll end up actually doing it.

“That’s nice,” was all he said, betraying none of his gay internal monologue. “So, is he, like, your apprentice or something?”
Minho gave him a look. “No? He’s just a kid that I decided to help. He seemed like a bit of an outcast, so… y’know.” He shifted his feet. “I thought about…”

Jisung tilted his head when Minho trailed off. “About?”

The older boy cleared his throat and looked away. “If I hadn’t become your friend last year. Or if Chan had never helped you out. How you’d probably be lonely. And I didn’t want that to happen to someone else. So I wanted to kinda take him under my wing.”

If Jisung thought he was starstruck before, he was wrong. Now, he was absolutely melting into the floor. His feet felt like jelly and his heart was shaking as it beat way too fast. He couldn’t do anything but stare. “...hyung…” was all he managed to squeak out.

Minho coughed. “Don’t look at me like that. Do you wanna meet him?”
After a few minutes of longing staring, Jisung snapped out of it and nodded. “Sure, why not…”

They were late for class, so they split up and went their separate ways. Jisung thought about Minho’s not-so-subtle display of affection. He decided to help someone because he thought about Jisung. He wanted to help someone because of Jisung. Indirectly, but still, the motive was the same. The thought made him all warm and mushy inside. 

The next day, Jisung did end up meeting this mystery freshman in the hall; a round-faced boy with braces named Yang Jeongin.
Jisung was instantly smitten. Jeongin was only a year younger but Jisung felt so paternal towards him even upon their first meeting. The freshman was so adorable and sweet it made  him want to gnaw on metal and cry.

“Our son,” Jisung said, glancing at Minho with a smile. “This is our son. We’re a family now. I’m adopting him.” 

Minho blinked at him. He seemed a little taken aback, but Jisung thought nothing of it, continuing to fawn over Jeongin. The bell rang and Jisung patted Jeongin on the head as they split up.

In third period, he met Minho in stall seven as usual. Minho seemed fidgety, so Jisung drew a mustache on his index finger and held it up between his nose and upper lip. “What might be the problem, esteemed hyung?”

Minho rolled his eyes at Jisung’s theatrics. “Idiot.”
Jisung smiled and dropped his finger. “Tell me.”

“Fine.” He scratched his head. “Just…earlier. Did you mean that? When you were all like, ‘we’re a family now, Jeongin is our son.”
Jisung was so unbelievably gone. He smiled fondly. “Yes, I meant it. Remember what I told you the day you met my parents?”

“Yes.” Minho replied. “That we’re family.”
“That’s right.” He smiled up at the older boy. “I meant it.’

The soft smile that graced Minho’s beautiful lips made Jisung want to get on his knees.
“...Thank you.”
Jisung nudged him with his hip. “No need for that."

Minho glanced over and looked at his eyes. He smiled a little bit more.

“Yeah. Family.”
“Yeah.”

Chapter Text

What Jisung was not prepared for was Minho getting ready for college. His sophomore year was going by in a split second, and almost all of Minho’s free time was spent getting ready and studying. 

Jisung hated it. He wanted to see Minho, talk to him, watch his eyes shift around, watch his mouth form shapes to pronounce words. The senior had even skipped a few of their stall periods to study, much to Jisung’s dismay. He understood, and he tried not to complain, but he still hated it.

So he tried to distract himself by hanging out with Felix. He spent so much time with the Australian boy that he feared he would start to fantasize about beaches and gigantic spiders. And it was fun, it really was – but Felix wasn’t Minho.

The senior had slipped naturally into Jisung’s friend group along with Changbin. Minho and Hyunjin still rarely talked but otherwise, Minho fit right in, and Jisung was over the moon. It made him happy to no end that Minho seemed to be at peace in the group.

But as much as he hated being away from Minho, the more he realized the saying was true – distance did make the heart grow fonder. 

And the more he realized just how fond his heart was growing, the more he came to accept a simple fact about himself.

Jisung was in love with Minho.

As clear as daylight. He couldn’t deny it any longer. The feelings piercing his chest were not silly and they were not light. Nothing less than love.
And it did scare him.

Within less than two years, Minho had been able to steal Jisung’s heart from behind its locked cage and claim it as his own. But he held it so gently; never did anything to add more scars. In fact, with his little smiles and lingering gazes, the scars that Jisung thought were permanent had begun to fade. Minho was fixing something he didn’t even break.

The anxiety from when they first gotten close had begun to creep up on Jisung once more. Every time he thought he might try to confess, his villainous mind would supply him with reasons not to. He’ll reject you. He doesn’t love you the same. You’re too ugly for him. You’re too lame for him. He’s too good for you.

Jisung tried to push those thoughts away. But usually Minho was the one that eased his worries, and as of right now, Jisung did not have easy access to him. It was frustrating and a little bit nerve wracking. What if he never got time with Minho again? Or– 

“Jisung!” 

A voice snapped Jisung out of his thoughts, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Felix.
“Jeez, are you alive? You need an energy drink or something?” The other boy asked, frowning. 

Jisung let out a breath. “Scared the shit out of me… yeah, I’m fine, just lost in thought.”
Felix stared at him intensely, squinting. “What are you thinking about?”

As much as Jisung liked to tell Felix things that worried him, he didn’t know if it was a good idea to talk about this particular thing. I’m in love with my best friend, but I’m too insecure to confess. Just a loser. 

“I’ll tell you later,” was all he said, earning an indignant pout from Felix. 

Jisung wanted to get over himself.

He had all this anxiety, all this fear, even though he knew Minho would never do anything to hurt him. Not his hyung. Not the boy who fed stray cats and took a lonely freshman under his wing twice. Not the boy who had painted color onto Jisung’s monochrome world.

In his mind, he had a vision. Late at night, under the stars, tension slowly building up. They sat close together and their pinkies twined. Maybe they shared a drink. And Jisung started giving a beautiful speech about how Minho had changed his life and these glittering feelings. 

He was going to do it. Find a way to set up a romantic confession. Jisung was going to get over himself for once in his life and challenge the voices in his head telling him he wasn’t enough.

The next day, Jisung texted Minho and asked him to please come to their stall today. He sent extra emojis to convey his desperation. Minho agreed, because he had never denied Jisung anything.

This time, Jisung got there first, staring at himself in the mirror, his hands wet from washing them. He’d gotten there early so he could use the toilet, just to prevent the possibility of pissing himself out of fear. He’d used the second stall, because actually using the bathroom in stall seven felt wrong. It wasn’t a bathroom stall; not to them. It was a safe haven, a little space carved out for them and them only.

“You can do this, Jisung,” he whispered to himself. “Just ask him to hang out on Saturday night. Simple. Easy. I can do this.”

The door opened and Jisung jumped, hurriedly wiping his wet hands on his pants. He smiled when he saw Minho. It was an instinct.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly.

Minho stopped walking and stared at him. “Uh, hi. Were you doing jumping jacks or something?”

He looked down at himself, confused. “What? No, why?”

Minho blinked. “Well, your face is all red, and you’re breathing kinda fast.’

Of course Minho would be able to tell. Jisung simultaneously thought fuck you and I love you .

“Oh. Well, no jumping jacks. There’s a reason I skip gym, y’know.”
The chuckle that he drew out of the senior’s throat made Jisung’s heart jump.

“Right. Unathletic Jisungie. Well… why’d you want me to come so bad?” He asked, walking into the stall and sitting on the lid of the toilet.
Jisung stared at him, trying to get his mind to process everything.

Jisungie? That was new.

“O-oh, yeah. Uh, well, I just…” he wet his lips and blinked rapidly. Come on, speak. “I was just wondering if–” he broke off, swallowing. His hands were getting clammy. His heart was racing, his breathing fast. 

Minho’s hand reached out and rested on Jisung’s shoulder.

“Breathe,” the senior said gently. “Take a second. You don’t have to tell me anything right now.” 

Jisung took a breath, his eyes flicking up to meet Minho’s. Deep brown, almost black, comforting and familiar. Sharp, yet never unfriendly. Jisung loved Minho’s eyes. The black eyeliner around it accentuated the shape. Slightly smudged around the top. Jisung wanted to fix it. 

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I just got a little overwhelmed. But…” he swallowed. Minho’s eyes never left him. He was listening.

Jisung wanted to talk.

“Will you go out with me on Saturday?” He said it all in one breath, too afraid that he would stutter or chicken out mid sentence. 

Minho’s eyes widened and Jisung’s heart stuttered. What if he declined? Maybe he was busy. Maybe it was obvious what Jisung’s intentions were, oh, God, he shouldn't have asked that–

“Yeah,” Minho replied, sounding like he was a little breathless. “Yeah, sure. Where?” 

Jisung felt like he could breathe again. “Um. Great. Yeah. I was thinking we could just… walk around. In the evening, maybe?” 

The evening. It sounded too romantic, too intimate, to his own ears. Maybe Minho would be weirded out.

But Minho had never been weirded out by Jisung, never purposefully embarrassed him – and, really, he had never declined Jisung anything. 

“Sure.” Minho nodded. “Yeah, that sounds- that sounds good.” 

Jisung nodded, his face feeling like it was on fire and the back of his neck prickling. He had never confessed to somebody before, never had a boyfriend. What if Minho did reciprocate, and they ended up dating? Jisung had no idea how to be a good boyfriend. 

They settled into comfortable silence, the sharp scent of Sharpies filling the air as the markers glided along the tile walls. It was almost filled up by now, covered in lyrics and doodles and secret messages and dumb questions. 

Jisung paused in his doodling and looked over at Minho. He didn’t bother to try and be discreet. He just let his eyes rest on the older boy, drinking in every feature.

The slightly tanned skin. The sharp slope of his nose, like a Greek god. His dark hair, getting a little bit longer these days. The strands falling over his forehead. The long eyelashes framing the dark eyes Jisung loved so much. His perfectly pink lips. The way the top lip was fuller than the bottom. His eyebrows that matched the color of his hair. The defined aegyo sal underneath his eyes. 

All of it. Jisung loved every feature on Minho’s face. He wanted to stare at it every single day, to cherish it and see happiness etched into his features. 

Minho appeared as someone strict. Someone who maybe was a little bit mean. But Jisung had learned he was the opposite. Kind and caring. Selfless. Deserving of all the good in the world. 

Jisung’s throat tightened. His chest felt like it was bubbling up, full to the brim. Affection. So much of it he felt like he might explode. Saturday was too far away. How could he wait that long? How could he—

“Hyung, I love you.” 

Silence. Deafening silence. Minho’s head slowly turned to face Jisung. 

Jisung slapped a hand over his mouth, his own eyes going wide. He hadn’t meant to say it. Not yet. It had just slipped past his lips. The feelings in his chest had bubbled up so much that they really had burst. 

“I-I didn’t mean to…” Jisung stuttered, tripping over his words, nervousness twisting his tongue. “I mean, I did, but- I didn’t mean to-” 

The bell rang, signaling the end of third period. Jisung stood up quickly. He had to get out of here. Red-hot embarrassment seared through him. Minho was silent. He didn’t feel the same. 

Jisung bolted out of the bathroom and towards  his next class with shaking hands. He cursed his traitorous mouth. Now he had ruined everything.

The rest of the day was torturous. How could he focus on his work when all that rung in his mind was Minho’s silence? His own humiliating babbling after his awful confession? 

He didn’t go to lunch. He couldn’t stomach it. Didn’t want to be around Felix’s curiosity, Seungmin’s knowing eyes or Hyunjin’s annoying comments. Jisung slipped through a side door of the school and walked home. He flopped down on his bed and buried his face in his pillow, curling up in a fetal position and sighing deeply.
His phone buzzed. Jisung looked at it and saw texts from Minho piling up. 

He shut his phone off.

Sleep overtook him quickly. A good thing, because if he kept thinking, he might have cried. 

The next morning, he begged his mother to let him stay home, even faked being sick to try and get out of it. But she wasn’t having it, and she sent him on his way.  The walk to school felt like he was walking towards his own death. Instead of a classroom, all that was waiting for him was the edge of a cliff.

If he lost Minho because of this stupid slip-up, he would never forgive himself. He would rather keep his feelings hidden away forever than lose Minho over them. 

He would go to the stall. He would talk to Minho and tell him that he didn’t mean it romantically. That could work, right? Friends could say “I love you” to each other. Yes. That’s what he would do. 

When third period came around, Jisung felt like he was going to throw up. His stomach churned as shaky legs brought him to the bathroom. He opened the door and gingerly stepped inside. 

Nobody was there. Jisung tried not to panic. He took a breath. Maybe Minho just wasn’t there yet. 

He walked fully into the bathroom and opened their stall. He sat down on the tank of the toilet and kicked the door shut. 

A quiet gasp escaped his mouth.

They hadn’t drawn on the door much, save for a few stars here and there. But right in the middle of it, there was a simple statement written in black ink.

“I love you too.”

Tears sprung into Jisung’s eyes. Minho had written that. For him. Had he left it there for Jisung to find? Because he knew Jisung would return to their stall.

He leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling, smiling like a fool. Minho returned his feelings. Lee Minho liked him. Loved him? 

It didn’t matter. Jisung felt like he had won the lottery. Minho was the coolest person he knew. He was so hopelessly in love with him. And his feelings were reciprocated. It didn’t feel real. He lowered his eyes and read the confession on the door over and over.

I love you too. I love you too. I love you too. I love you too.

Chapter Text

Saturday night was nothing short of enchanting.

The two of them walked along the Han river and ate ice cream, giggling at each other and blushing like the teenagers they were. Their edgy styles did not match the utter giddiness on their red faces, which earned them a few strange looks, but neither of them could be bothered to care. 

All they knew was that everything had changed - and yet nothing at all at the same time. They were both still Lee Minho and Han Jisung. They were both still best friends. They still had that same easy humor that bounced off of each other. 

But at the same time, the air was different. It was as if an invisible string was tying them together, keeping their bodies close and their eyes locked. Jisung’s face hurt from how much he was smiling.

Jisung had spent his whole life thinking all love did was crash and burn. But Minho, so far, had proved him wrong. The kind of love that they had was… easy. It was like breathing. And it made Jisung feel like he was sitting on a cloud. There was no anxiety thrumming in his blood when he was with Minho.

There was only one thing that he would change about that night by the river. Minho was not his boyfriend. And he didn’t know at the time whether it would ever happen.
He was just content to be in love.

Tuesday was Minho’s graduation day.

Jisung was fully prepared to cry himself stupid as he walked toward the auditorium with Changbin and Felix. They found seats toward the front and Jisung craned his head to see if he could spot Minho sitting among the seniors.

When their eyes locked, a grin immediately found its way onto Jisung’s lips and he offered a little wave. Minho smiled back, softer, and returned the wave. He mouthed “hi” and Jisung had to stop himself from getting up and running over there right then.

Instead, he settled in his seat next to Felix and sighed. “I think I’ll cry worse than I did at Chan hyung’s graduation.” He commented.

Felix and Changbin laughed at the same time. “You better not,” Changbin warned. “I don’t want to drag you out of here with snot all over your face.”
“I have tissues,” Felix informed them with a smile. Kind, loving Felix, always prepared to take care of his friends. That alone almost made Jisung cry.
“Thanks,” he said instead, whispering as the principal got on the stage and began her speech. 

It was mostly boring – the principal calling up each senior to present their diplomas and give them a short word of encouragement or praise. Jisung only paid attention when he heard Minho’s name being called.

He watched as his friend walked onto the stage in the graduation gown, his black hair sticking out from underneath the cap. Jisung thought he looked better than everyone else.

“Congratulations, Minho,” the principal said with a warm smile as she handed him his diploma. “I wish you the best of luck in university and beyond.”
Minho bowed to her and accepted the diploma with a polite smile, and then he scanned the crowd. When he found Jisung, they shared a smile, and Jisung’s chest felt like it was going to break under all the affection trapped inside it.

His legs itched to get up and run to Minho and his hands itched to hold the older boy’s.

At the end of the ceremony, Jisung still hadn’t cried. His eyes were completely dry. “Damn, now I look heartless,” he joked to Felix, who laughed. “I’m gonna go find Minho hyung. I’ll see you guys in a bit.” He excused himself and then he was gone, threading through the throng of students and parents to find his person. 

“Hyung,” Jisung called when he caught sight of him. Minho turned around and smiled when he saw the younger boy, immediately making his way toward him. 

Jisung didn’t hesitate at all. He stepped close and gave Minho a hug, tight and purposeful. Minho seemed surprised, but his arms wrapped around Jisung’s shoulders in return. “Thank you for coming,” he murmured in Jisung’s ear.

“Don’t thank me,” Jisung replied, matching the quiet tone. “Of course I came.”

They held each other tightly for a few more moments before Jisung pulled away. “I won’t keep you. Go find your family, okay?” He offered a small, close-mouthed smile, and Minho squeezed his arm. “Okay. I’ll find you again soon.”

“I know you will,” Jisung replied, letting his eyes linger for a moment longer before turning to go back to Felix and Changbin. 

“I haven’t cried yet,” he told them upon his arrival. He was met with laughter once again. “I’m surprised,” Changbin replied. “You were a mess at Chan hyung’s graduation.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jisung huffed. “I won’t cry at your graduation, either.” He threatened. Changbin pretended to be deeply offended. “How could you? You must hate me…”

The three of them talked for a few minutes before Jisung saw Felix look past his shoulder and gesture for him to turn around. When he did, he was slightly startled by Minho standing right behind him.
“Hyung.” He stood up quickly. “Why are you–”

Jisung stopped talking when he saw the expression on Minho’s face. He looked upset. Worry seized Jisung’s heart and he instinctively reached out to hold the older boy’s hand. He wordlessly led Minho through the crowd and out the back door to the parking lot.

They sat on one of the parking bumps, and Jisung waited for Minho to speak. He didn’t say anything; he just let the space be clear for when Minho was ready. 

“My family didn’t come.”

Jisung’s eyes immediately went to Minho’s when he heard that. A wave of pain pierced through his heart and his eyes softened. “Oh, hyung…” 

The look on Minho’s face was devastating for Jisung. He looked like he was very sad but trying to conceal it. How many times had his parents missed an important event like this? His high school graduation?

Anger replaced the sadness in Jisung’s heart. He was so frustrated that heat stung at his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. “How could they not come?” He cursed them before putting his face in his hands when the crying got worse. 

Minho’s hand settled on Jisung’s back comfortingly, and that just made Jisung even more upset. Minho should be comforting him for a different reason. It should be just because Jisung was sad about Minho graduating. His family should be here too, saying that they were proud of him and taking him out for celebratory dinner afterwards.

“I’m going to go to all of your important events until I die,” Jisung swore through tears and a tight voice. The words slipped from his mind into the air before he could stop them, and when he realized what he said, he burned with embarrassment at the audacity of that statement.

But the embarrassment wasn’t enough for him to retract the words. Because he meant them. If Minho’s blood family wouldn’t support him, then Jisung would become his new family, and his number one cheerleader. 

Minho had been staring at Jisung, likely trying to process the words, but when he did, a small smile graced his beautiful face. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I’d like that.” 

The two of them looked at each other for a long moment – Minho’s soft gaze meeting Jisung’s teary eyes. Right then was when Jisung finally got hit with the overwhelming realization that Minho was really going to graduate. He was going to a university in Suwon, and there would be no more stall seven meetings for them. There would be no running into each other in the hallway. No more shared lunches in the corner of the cafeteria. 

Jisung cried harder and leaned in when Minho quickly offered a hug. Nestled in Minho’s arms, he wanted to keep this moment alive forever. He didn’t want to think about going through his last couple years of high school without Minho. He wouldn’t be alone – he still had Felix and the others – but it wouldn’t be the same. 

“Don’t leave me behind,” he whispered, his voice tight with tears. Minho pulled his head back gently so that their eyes met. “I would never,” he replied, quiet but earnest. “I’ll never leave you behind, Jisungie. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”

Jisung’s lips stretched into a shaky smile. “Did you get that from Lilo & Stitch?”
Minho returned the smile sheepishly. “Yeah…I watched it a few days ago.”

Their eyes met again and they stared for a few seconds before Minho spoke, a question that Jisung didn’t even process at first.

“Jisungie, would you want to maybe be my boyfriend?”  

For a moment, Jisung just continued staring at him. Until the final word echoed in his mind again. Boyfriend.

Wait, me?

Jisung’s eyes widened and he let out a breath as his jaw went slack. Once the question settled and registered in his mind, he shut his mouth and looked intently at the other boy’s nervous face. He took a breath and assessed how he was feeling.

There was no sense of impending doom in his chest. His legs were not prickling with the need to get up and run. Anxiety was not scorching his nerves.

Maybe it was alright to take a step like this. To hand himself over to Minho and let his heart be held in someone else’s hands. Minho would protect it. He wouldn’t drop it. That much, he knew.

So he smiled. Just a small one. “Yeah,” he replied. “I would like that.” 

Minho looked like he had just won the lottery. The expression of pure delight on his face made Jisung want to take a picture and frame it. Or maybe keep it in a heart-shaped locket, around his neck forever. Not because he owned Jisung, but because he really knew him. And because Jisung was so stupid in love that he would do anything.

“Thank you,” Minho said, reaching up a slightly shaking hand to brush back Jisung’s hair. “I’ll take care of you, I promise. I might not be very good, but… I’ll try my best.”

Jisung scoffed quietly. “Not good? Minho, if you as a boyfriend is anything like you as a friend, then I think I’ll be quite a happy man for as long as you want to date me.”

Minho ruffled his hair, smile getting a little wider. “I’m glad to hear that… I hope I’ll live up to your standards, Jisungie.”

It wasn’t grand. There were no fireworks and nobody was watching them. They weren’t watching the sunset or guarded by the stars. It was just the two of them sitting in a high school parking lot. Jisung’s face was tear-stained and eyeliner smudged. Minho’s shoes were dirty and his hair was messed up from the cap. It was not movie worthy. But in Jisung’s mind, it was the most romantic thing that could possibly happen. A moment that belonged to just them. And the memory of this imperfect moment would sear into his mind forever. Even if, god forbid, they ever split up, he knew that he would look back on this moment fondly. 

He had known from the very start that Minho would always shine like gold in his memories. 

Chapter Text

School without Minho felt like toast without butter. 

Jisung still didn’t go to gym. He still went to stall seven and he still filled up the wall with ink every day. But without Minho next to him, it felt empty and pointless. 

The wall was almost completely full now. There were barely any spaces left to draw on, save for the door, which was still practically empty save for the “I love you too” written in the middle. Minho’s final mark on their sacred space.

Day 43 no Minho.

Jisung wrote that on the wall with a sigh. He wanted to see Minho. He’d visited him in Suwon twice already, but he still wasn’t used to the distance. He’d grown accustomed to seeing Minho every day, to hearing his voice and their hands touching. Texting wasn’t enough. 

With another deep sigh, Jisung leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes. Quietly, he hummed the tune to TWICE’s Doughnut.  Minho liked girl groups. It was endearing. 

Now that Jisung was a junior, he had to start preparing for university. Deciding where he would go, studying, trying to keep his grades up. It was hard. He wished Minho could help him.
But he decided to push through it. He could do it. Without help. Without Minho.

He sat at his desk, the yellow light from his lamp pouring over the pages. The pen in his hand flicked back and forth rapidly as he tried to absorb the words.
Focus. He took a deep breath and reread the page again. A semicolon links two independent clauses that are closely related in thought.

A semicolon…

Jisung sighed. He tangled his hands in his hair, putting his head down. Minho. A semicolon reminded him of Minho. 

The stall was the semicolon, and Jisung and Minho were the independent clauses. Closely related in thought. 

Another sigh.

Adjusting to life without Minho around would be harder than he thought. It’s not like he was dead . But he wasn’t there, with Jisung, within short distance. Not close by. 

God. He was in this way too deep. Too obsessed. 

“Fuck,” he sighed again. He picked up his pen and kept trying to read. Semicolons. Emdashes. More English grammar rules than he could remember. 

Slowly, he started to retain the information. The ache in his heart eased. Study. Study. Read. Read more. Forget. 

Jisung’s phone rang.

His concentration was shattered. He let out a low noise like a growl. But when he lifted it up to see who it was, the frustration disappeared immediately. 

Jisung smiled instinctively at seeing the contact name on his screen. Bang Chan hyung. 

“Hello?” He spoke into the phone when he picked up, putting it against his ear.
“Hey, Jisung-ah,” Chan’s voice came through and Jisung sighed. He had missed Chan terribly.

“Hi. What’s up?” Jisung asked, spinning around in his chair, pen dropping onto the desk. No more studying for now.
“Just wanted to call and check in. It’s been a little while, huh?” 

Jisung smiled softly to himself. “Yeah, it has. How’s university?”
"It’s good. The music program here is so amazing. I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be. And I’ve met some pretty cool people too.”

“Really?” Jisung spun in his chair again. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Yeah. It’s great. What about you, though? How’s junior year?” 

“Hmm…” He leaned back against the chair and looked at the ceiling. “It’s boring. And busy. Lots of studying.”

Chan chuckled on the other end. “Boring? What, because Minho isn’t there anymore?”
Jisung scratched his head sheepishly. “Honestly, yeah.” 

“Mm. Well, you can visit him, right? Isn’t he just going to that tech school in Suwon?”
“Yeah. But he’s busy. And so am I. It has to work out for both of us, y’know.” 

Chan quietly laughed. “So considerate. Isn’t it about time you admitted you like him?” 

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows. What? He did that a while ago. He was dating Minho now. The thought made him smile a little. 

“I do like him. Didn’t I tell you, hyung? We’re dating.”

The silence that followed made Jisung wince. He had forgotten to tell Chan. He felt bad; the older  boy had been rooting for him all this time.

“You’re dating him?! Oh my God, Jisung-ah. you didn’t tell me!” Chan exclaimed, but he didn’t sound upset. Jisung breathed out soft relief.
“Sorry. I kinda got caught up, I guess. Slipped my mind.”
“Ah, whatever! I’m just glad you’re telling me now! So, how did it happen?”

Jisung laughed softly, a little sheepish. “Well, at his graduation ceremony… I was crying about how I didn’t want him to leave me behind, and then he just… asked me out.”

Chan squealed on the other end. “Jisung-ah! That’s so cute! I knew you guys would get together.”
Jisung scratched his head bashfully. “Thank you… I hoped we would.” 

He looked up at the ceiling, a momentary pause in the conversation.

“It must be even harder to be apart from him then, huh?” Chan asked, his voice sympathetic. “If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t want to be away from him.”
Jisung sighed. “Yeah, it’s difficult…” he agreed. “But I would much rather deal with this distance than not be with him at all.” 

Chan giggled. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” He teased gently. Jisung’s neck burned. “I am not! Just… devoted, or something. I don’t know. Stop laughing at me!”

The laughter on the other end slowly died down as Chan calmed down. “Sorry, sorry! It’s just so cute. To see my little socially awkward junior in love.” 

Jisung’s face felt like it was on fire. “I am not in love,” he grumbled. He still wasn’t sure about that part. He knew he liked Minho, but could it truly be considered love? When he was so young? 

“Sure you aren’t. Deny it however much you want, Jisung-ah, but people’s faces don’t light up when they talk about someone if they aren’t in love.” Chan replied, his matter-of-fact tone making Jisung nervous. Was it obvious? Was he the only one that couldn’t tell?

“Whatever.” He huffed. “I was studying when you called me. English.”
Chan hummed. “Ah. Sorry about that. Well, I just wanted to check up on you, so I’ll let you get back to your books.”
“Alright. Thanks, hyung. Bye.” Jisung was about to hit the button to end the call when he heard ‘wait’ from Chan.

“Yes?” He asked, putting his phone back to his ear. Chan was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “You can text me for anything, any reason. You know that, right?”

Jisung felt warmth bloom in his chest. Chan was so kind to him. Like his older brother. It was nice, to have someone to lean on like this. Nobody else could fulfill this specific role Chan played in his life. Not even Minho. 

“Yeah, I know,” he replied with a smile, even though Chan couldn’t see it. “Thank you, Chan hyung.” 

“Sure thing, Jisung-ah. Anyway, goodnight. Don’t stay up all night studying.”
“Rich coming from you.” Jisung shot back playfully, remembering all the times Chan had come into class looking half-dead from lack of sleep. 

“Touché.”  Chan chuckled. “But my point still stands. Do as I say, not as I do.” 
Jisung rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll go to sleep soon. Night, hyung.”
“Goodnight, Jisung-ah. Sleep well.”
“You too, hyung.”

And then the line was dead. Jisung sighed and leaned back in his chair. He shut his eyes. Talking with Chan had made his heart feel less heavy.

With that comfort came relaxation, which meant he got tired. Sleepiness started to weigh on his eyelids and he yawned, shutting off his lamp and dragging his feet over to his bed and flopping down.

He pulled the covers over himself and then sighed. Right before he drifted off, he remembered he had a self-imposed responsibility.

Jisung fumbled for his phone and unlocked it. He clicked on the messages app and opened his thread with Minho, tapping at the keyboard until he had a message typed out. He read it over once and then clicked send, shoving his phone under his pillow and closing his eyes. A sigh escaped his nose as he slowly let sleep overtake him.

Good night, Minho hyung. I thought of you a lot today. I hope you’re already asleep. If not, go to bed soon. Sweet dreams.

Chapter Text

Jisung was never one to get particularly excited about any holidays. He appreciated them, and he could understand the ‘magic’ of Christmas and New Year’s. (Valentine’s Day was a different story, because he had never received chocolates from anyone, and he dreaded February just because of that.)

However, this Christmas, Jisung hoped it would be different. Minho had texted and told him he was coming back to Seoul for holiday vacation. Jisung was absolutely ecstatic. It had been almost a month and a half since he’d seen Minho, and he felt if he had to wait longer, he would burst. 

Cleaning his room had always felt like a boring chore – and it was. But he put as much effort into it as he could. He even dusted the surfaces and vacuumed in the corners. Because he wanted Minho to come over and feel at home. Surely the older boy wouldn’t spend much time with his family, given their strained relationship. 

Three days until he saw Minho.

At lunch with Felix and the others, he was bouncing his leg, barely able to focus on the conversation and how his food tasted. All he could think about was Minho. Seeing him in a couple days. Getting to touch him, talk to him, look into his eyes. Feel his presence. He unintentionally let out a dreamy sigh.

Hyunjin snorted at him. “Dude, what’s with that moony ass look in your eyes? Sighing like a lovestruck maiden.”
Jisung’s neck burned with embarrassment. “I do not look moony.”

“You kinda do,” Seungmin backed Hyunjin up. “Is it Minho? I thought he was off at university.”
He shifted in his seat, smiling a bit. “Yes, he is, but he’s coming back for Christmas and New Year’s.” 

“Really!” Felix grinned. “That’s great! I bet it’s hard to be away from him for so long.” He sympathized. Jisung had to agree.
“It is. But it just makes it nicer when I do get to see him.”

Hyunjin snickered. “Damn, we’ve got Yearner3000 over here.”
Jisung shot him a look, which made Felix immediately add a kind comment to diffuse the tension. Really, there was no animosity between the two of them anymore. They’d grown out of that freshman feud by now. But that didn’t mean either of them were suddenly going to start acting sappy and kind towards the other. No way in hell.

“Well,” Jisung cleared his throat. “Do you guys have any plans for winter break, then?” He asked, hoping to shift the topic off of his love life. Seungmin glanced at Hyunjin and when the two of them made eye contact, they smiled at the same time. Disgusted, Jisung made a retching noise.

“Fondgazers3000,” he commented. Hyunjin could handle a taste of his own medicine. And it must have been gross, because the taller boy glared at Jisung and huffed indignantly.
“Excuse you.” 

Jisung giggled and accepted a bite of brownie fed to him by Felix. They tasted better than usual.
“You put something new in these?” He asked around a mouthful. Felix grinned, his face lighting up at Jisung’s observation. “Yes! I tried using coffee grounds in them this time. Do you like it?”

“Dude, these are literally life-changing,” Jisung snorted. “Don’t ask me if I ‘like’ them.’ 
Felix looked like he had been handed a Nobel Peace Prize. “I’m so glad. I’ll keep making them, then!”

Jisung, despite all of his original cautions and fears, had grown hopelessly attached to his friends. When he bumped into Felix in the hallway almost two years ago, he didn’t expect to grow so fond of him. Now, he couldn’t picture his life without him. Just like Minho had, the Australian boy had weaved his way into the inner workings of Jisung’s heart, leaving him an integral part of Jisung’s everyday life. 

Even Seungmin and Hyunjin were important to him. Seungmin’s level-headedness and his quick wit kept Jisung in his mind, and he’d found himself going to the brown-haired boy for advice (and studying tips) on more than one occasion. And as for Hyunjin… well, Jisung wouldn’t like to say he loved him, but he had allowed a space in his heart to be occupied by the idiot. Their arguments had evolved from hostile to simple banter, and they often laughed by the end of it. It was… easy. Jisung liked it; the dynamic his little group had. 

He went home that day and listened to a playlist he had created with Minho. A blend of their favorite songs. There were some on there that Jisung didn’t really care for, but he listened to them in their entirety anyway, because Minho liked them. If he listened to the lyrics and felt the melody in his heart, maybe he would understand his lover a little better every time.

Two days until he saw Minho.

It was the day before winter break started for Jisung, so he made sure to give his friends a thorough goodbye and promised to see them over break (which he knew he probably wouldn’t, he’d be too preoccupied with Minho) before heading home. 

He decided to go to the grocery store and buy some things he knew Minho liked. A pack of that specific brand of Japanese pudding. Instant ramen for them to share. Mint chocolate chip ice cream. Jisung wouldn’t usually pick it, but Minho had a fondness for it, so he was more than happy to eat it with him. 

Once everything was put away in his fridge, all that was left was to wait. Impatient, he ran upstairs and laid on his bed, staring at Minho’s contact and their recent messages. Impulsively, he clicked on the ‘call’ button and winced at every ring.

That is, until he heard “Hello?” from the other line and immediately broke out into a smile.
“Minho hyung!” he exclaimed, unable to conceal the excitement from dripping into his voice. Minho had a way of dragging emotion out of him; pulling it out from his heart into his actions and pouring into his speech and his eyes like watercolor. 

“Hey,” Minho replied, chuckling at Jisung’s eagerness. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Jisung picked at a loose thread on his blanket. “Just wanted to call you. I’m excited for you to come to Seoul.”

“Aww. I’m excited too. I’ve already got my bags mostly packed.” 

Jisung rolled around on his bed. “Why can’t you come a day earlier? I’m literally dying with anticipation.”
Minho quietly laughed. “Patience is a virtue.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t give a fuck about being virtuous.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” 

Jisung giggled quietly. He loved how Minho always played along with him like that. It made his heart do weird things in his chest. Nobody had ever gotten him like Minho had. He sighed out loud.

“That was a pretty deep sigh,” Minho observed. Of course he noticed. “What ails you, my dear?”
Jisung smiled, and he was pretty sure he had those moony eyes Hyunjin made fun of him for. “Oh, nothing. I simply long for the presence of my knight in shining armor.”

Minho chuckled and Jisung wished he could see the smile on his face. “Ah, well, Prince Jisung, you shall not wait long. There is only a few days’ time between you and your knight.”
“A few days too long!” Jisung exclaimed. “My yearning shall not be placated until I have his hands in mine. Far too long!”

They both started laughing at the same time, and then they couldn’t stop. Hearing Minho’s laughter grow uncontrollable, even over the phone, lit something in him so brightly and fiercely that he could barely stand it. Protectiveness, maybe. The burning desire to hear Minho laugh like that forever. To protect their little bubble of joy and make sure nobody ever popped it. 

When they both finally calmed down, Jisung wiped away the tears in his eyes and massaged his cheeks; hurting from his incessant grinning. “Wow. I didn’t know I was that funny.”
“Oh, wow. I want you to know I rolled my eyes. You’ve got a big ego.”

“Hey! Don’t act like you weren’t calling me a prince just a few moments ago.”
“Well, you were the one that called me your knight, so…”
“You listen here–”

They broke into playful banter, and Jisung’s face hurt so much from all the smiling he was doing, but it was the best pain he had ever experienced. Minho brought out this kind of raw joy from deep inside his heart and it made him want to give himself entirely. To let Minho hold him and use his hands to mold Jisung into someone worth loving. To take each bone and shape him into someone deserving of all of the uncontrollable affection his heart had been filled with.

Just a couple years ago, he believed that love made people weak; that letting someone into his heart was a sure way to get it broken. After all, that’s what he had witnessed happen all around him. But Minho had walked right in and proved that wrong. All of Jisung’s conceptions about love had been false. Now, he believed that love could get a person through anything. All of his boring classes, the short but unbearable distance, his bad days and his good days too. Minho got him through it all. He loved waking up and seeing a text from Minho at exactly the same time every single day. 

One day until he saw Minho.

The day before Minho came back to Seoul, Jisung was buzzing with anticipation the entire day. He obsessively roamed his house and scrubbed and cleaned any impurities, needing everything to be perfect. Not that Minho was going to investigate and give a sanitization rating. But he just felt Minho deserved this kind of effort. Deserved someone going to great lengths to ensure he stepped into a clean and welcoming space. 

Jisung’s mom was more than happy to let him take care of the chores that day. His stepdad seemed shocked, but didn’t comment further, knowing that if he said anything, Jisung would either ignore him or stop cleaning.

It’s not like he hated his stepfather. It’s just that they didn’t understand each other. Jisung was a strange and hard-to-get-close-to kid, he knew that, but sometimes it made him cringe how much his stepfather just… didn’t understand him. And frankly, that was fine by Jisung. He already knew that he wasn’t going to grow up with the same experiences as everyone else. He’d known that since the first time he caught his biological father with a stranger who wasn’t his mom. But it was just a little bit isolating to feel that he couldn’t share anything with either his mother or his stepfather. A woman who he loved but didn’t connect with, or a man who didn’t understand him in the slightest. 

Jisung wondered why Minho’s relationship with his parents was bad. Had it once been good, and then gone to shit? He couldn’t fathom a reason why parents could dislike their child so much so as to not attend their high school graduation. Jisung already planned to go to Minho’s university graduation to make up for the absence they would surely provide. It pissed him off; how somebody could treat Minho that way. Minho, who was the first person that had ever made Jisung feel seen and truly accepted. Kind Minho, who adopted both of his cats from rescue centers. 

He shook off the thoughts. He didn’t want to think about Minho’s shitty parents. Jisung’s mind wandered to last year, when they sat in the parking lot and Jisung impulsively declared he would attend every single one of Minho’s important events. He was embarrassed back then, at his own audacity, but now all he could think about that was how true it was. He knew that if Minho had some kind of event at his university, Jisung would drop everything and get on a train to Suwon right then. 

It was almost humiliating how whipped he had become. 

Zero days until he saw Minho.

On the day of Minho’s arrival, Jisung woke up at five in the morning and couldn’t fall back asleep. He was jittery and anxious for the time to come. Minho said his train would arrive in Seoul at twelve-thirty. It had seemed like a great time when they were planning it, but now it felt so far away. The sun wasn’t even up.

Jisung groaned and curled in on himself under his covers. It was freezing cold. He shut his eyes and tried hard to go back to sleep, but to no avail. He pulled his phone out from under his pillow and opened it up, squinting at the brightness that stung his eyes.

He opened up the messaging app and typed out a text for Minho. 

Jisung
i’m already awake. too excited!! hurry up!!

Of course, he didn’t get a response yet. It was five-thirteen in the morning. He would be more shocked if Minho did reply at this hour. He shut his phone off and let out a deep sigh. How could he keep himself occupied for the next seven hours?

He opened up Instagram and saw a photo from Seungmin, posted 14 hours ago. It was him and Hyunjin wearing ridiculous matching beanies, with too many colors and patterns. Definitely Hyunjin’s idea. Jisung snorted quietly as he double-tapped the photo and left a comment. “You two violate my eyes every time I see you together.” 

After an hour of mindless scrolling, Jisung forced himself to get up. Shivering, he pulled on a pair of thick socks and then stood up, stretching his useless joints and yawning. In Jisung’s opinion, nobody should ever be awake before eight a.m. unless it was for a flight. But truthfully, if he could sleep in until twelve every day, he would. 

He wandered into the kitchen and made himself a bowl of yogurt and fruit, eating slowly as he stared at the wall and zoned out. His mind was filled with Minho. What would they do when he got to Seoul? Go shopping? Have a cute date? Return to Jisung’s house and cuddle until they fall asleep? Endless scenarios played in Jisung’s mind, some of them bordering territory he was too shy to pursue in real life. 

He knew that if he asked Minho to take their relationship to the next level, he could. And Minho would probably agree. It’s just that Jisung was… awkward. It’s not like he didn’t think about that kind of thing. He was a teenage boy, after all; he couldn’t help it. And he was hopelessly attracted to Minho. No amount of willpower could stop him from fantasizing with those two factors at play.

But… realistically, he knew he was unable to flirt to save his life, and he was mortified at the thought of trying to be sexy or hot and embarrassing himself. Or worse, being rejected. Maybe Minho didn’t want that kind of relationship. He’d never mentioned it.

Jisung shook his head, casting that train of thought away. They would cross that bridge when they got to it. In time, there would be a moment for them to pursue that. It would come naturally when it was supposed to. For now, Jisung was just excited to be in the same room as Minho. Just to hold his hand and hug him and hear his voice. 

As his eyes wandered around his kitchen, his gaze rested on a sealed container of flour. He stared at it for a few moments before an idea popped into his mind. 

He could bake something for Minho. What was more cozy and inviting than having freshly baked cookies offered to you when you walked into someone’s house? That’s exactly what he wanted. For Minho to feel welcomed. Jisung always had a warm feeling in him around Minho; a soft glow of yellow light in his chest. If he could offer a fraction of that feeling, it would be lovely. 

So he opened YouTube and found a follow-along cookie recipe. It had almost a million views, so it must be good. Jisung wondered if the other viewers were people like him; clueless in the kitchen but wanting to make someone else happy. He felt that making something with his own hands felt much more personal and loving than buying something from the store. 

Soft music flowed from his phone into the kitchen as he mixed ingredients together and tried to follow the recipe exactly. He got flour everywhere and fished out a million egg shells from the bowl, but after a while he eventually had real dough in front of him. He sighed with relief and began shaping them into individual balls, spreading them out on a baking pan covered in parchment paper. 

Once the dough was evenly distributed, he popped them inside the oven and looked at the time. Eight-thirty. Still four more hours. What could he possibly do for four whole hours? 

Jisung looked at his phone and saw that Minho had replied to his earlier text fifteen minutes ago. He broke out in a grin and opened their text thread.

Minho
That excited, huh? I just woke up
Packing the last few things before I get breakfast
Then I’ll head out

Jisung
!!!!!
im so excited
i made something for you just now

Minho
Really? What?

Jisung
its a surprise

Minho
Oh, come on, really?

Jisung
yes, really!!
you have to come here and see for yourself

Minho
Fine, then. I’ll see you in 4 hours

Jisung
that’s too far away! take an earlier train!

Minho
Patience please, Prince Jisung! Your knight in shining armor has duties!

Jisung
i literally hate you

Minho
You’re the one that confessed to me 

Jisung
shut up! stop being mean. pack your dumb bags

Minho
You aren’t a morning person, I take it?

Jisung simply sent an angry emoji and didn’t respond with words. He was too busy huffing and puffing about Minho’s attitude. Using Jisung’s words from the night before against him! How could he? Blasphemy, in Jisung’s opinion. Utter foolishness. Bullying. Any word he could grasp with his eight a.m. mind. 

He went and got dressed while he waited for the cookies to bake. His stepfather came out to say they smelled good and that he was going to work. Jisung said goodbye to him and sat on the kitchen counter with a cup of orange juice as he stared at the oven. He could see through the glass that the cookies had begun to take shape, and he felt a slight sense of pride. He had created those with his own hands. Sure, he followed a tutorial online, but otherwise he didn’t have any help. It was his creation, made solely with one person in mind.

The smell must have woken up his mother, because she came out of her room and into the kitchen, sniffing the air. “Smells good in here! Did you make cookies?” She asked. Jisung looked at her and offered a small smile. “Yeah. Since Minho’s coming today, I figured I might as well.” 

She nodded and looked at the cookies through the glass on the oven. “Ah, they look good. I didn’t know you were good at baking now.”

There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.
Jisung couldn’t stop that thought from entering the forefront of his mind. He shook it away and replied, “I watched a tutorial. But it wasn’t that hard.”

His mother hummed in acknowledgement and then went back to her room; maybe to return to sleeping or to get dressed. Jisung didn’t know and frankly he didn’t care. 

Once the timer on Jisung’s phone beeped, he hopped off the counter and opened the oven, wrinkling his nose at the wave of heat that rushed out at him. He put on a pair of oven mitts and reached in, pulling out the burning hot cookie tray and placing it on top of the stove.

He could feel the heat radiating off of the cookies, so he didn’t dare to touch them yet, but he couldn’t help but admire his creation. They looked like real cookies. Maybe not perfectly Instagram-worthy, but they weren’t burnt and the chocolate-chip to dough ratio was incredible. A twinge of pride tugged at his heart. He hoped Minho would like them. He hoped that the flavor matched the way they looked. 

Resisting the urge to send Minho a photo, he grabbed each of them with tongs and set them on a cooling rack. He stuck a note next to them that said “do not eat until minho gets here!” and then left the kitchen so they could cool. 

Almost nine o’clock. Jisung fidgeted with his hair in the mirror before deciding to take a shower. He could kill an hour that way. He ran the water hot before stepping inside, cleaning himself from head to toe, as thoroughly as he could. He even went the extra mile and used some kind of scrub his mother bought to make himself smell nice. After a moment’s shy hesitation, he shaved his body too. Just in case.

By the time he got out of the shower and got dressed, it was nine-fifty five. He huffed at the slow-moving clock and decided to blow-dry and style his hair. He liked the messy but calculated look. It suited his personality. 

Now…for two and a half more hours, he would desperately wait to feel those piercing eyes on him again. The haunting memory of Minho’s touch lingered on his skin like a phantom. It had been far too long since he’d felt those hands on his arms or around his waist. Hugs from Minho weren’t a common occurrence but when they happened, it was so warm and pleasant that Jisung cherished them like gold. 

He decided to lay on his bed and scroll mindlessly on Instagram for a couple hours. And surprisingly, it worked. He usually hated doing that, but the satisfaction and joy he felt when he saw the clock at eleven fourty-five was unmatched. Less than an hour.

Jisung sprung to his feet and dug through his closet. He pulled on a black long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and sneakers before running to the bathroom. He put some cream on the dry patches of his skin and then pressed powder onto his face. He uncapped his eyeliner and drew black ink around his eyes. Smudged it a little. Leaned back and admired his work. With a little bit of hesitance, he tapped a little glitter onto his eyelid. It made his eyes shine. Minho might like that.

Shyly, he swiped gloss over his lips and then pocketed the tube. He pulled on a jacket and zipped it hurriedly, then yelled to his mother. “I’m going to the station!” 

And then he was gone. Jisung gripped his phone tightly as he ran down the street, hurrying to the bus stop. He held onto a pole and tried not to jump out of his skin with excitement. The bus carried him towards Seoul Station, towards Minho.

Twelve ten. 

Jisung jumped off the bus and waited impatiently at the station, walking around and doing laps where Minho’s train would arrive. Twenty minutes. 

“Hurry up,” he whined under his breath. His hands itched. 

After the longest and most excruciating wait of Jisung’s life, a train finally pulled into the station, coming to a screeching halt in front of him. He eagerly looked around, pacing to the front of the train to see if Minho would get off there. Lots of different faces passed by him, but none of them had the captivating eyes and sculpted face Jisung was looking for.

He turned around and his eyes picked through the crowd before landing on the right person. Minho. Their eyes locked and Jisung broke out in a grin. He didn’t think twice before running forward, weaving through the throng and jumping right into Minho’s arms.

Minho caught him. He always caught Jisung. Held him steady and didn’t let him fall. They hugged each other tightly for a long moment, Jisung’s feet suspended slightly in the air. ‘

When they broke apart, Jisung slid down to the ground and looked up at Minho, regarding the dark eyes and flushed cheeks and messy bangs under his beanie. He couldn’t get the smile off his face. 

“Hi,” he said breathlessly.

Minho returned his dumb smile and ruffled up his hair. “Hi.”
Jisung had never felt as euphoric as he did in that moment, being reunited with the boy he loved so dearly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Minho replied, leaning down to kiss Jisung’s forehead. “It’s been a long few months.”
“I agree,” Jisung sighed, his gloved hands clinging onto Minho’s jacket. “You should have gone to university in Seoul.” He pouted.

Minho chuckled at him. “Look at you. It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re already whining at me.”
Jisung was a little embarrassed by Minho’s comment but he didn’t show it, choosing to stick out his tongue and then let out a giggle. “Come on, let’s go. We’ve got to make use of every second.”

A tilted laugh left Minho’s lips as Jisung pulled him along. “We have like, two and a half weeks,” he pointed out, amused. Jisung was not having it, however. “That’s so short! It will pass by in an instant. We have to make the most out of this.”

Minho seemed swayed and maybe even a little touched. “Alright, alright. Let’s go, then. Not so fast, though. Live in the moment, or else it’ll end sooner.” 
That made Jisung slow his walking to a normal pace, opting to be beside Minho now instead of leading him forward.

“There we go. Much better.” Minho smiled as he grabbed Jisung’s hand. Warmth bloomed in Jisung’s chest and spread into his skin, coloring his cheeks darker and heating the tips of his ears. “Shut up.” 

Minho tilted his head and laughed at Jisung’s attitude. “Still feisty. I thought missing me would mellow you out a little.”
Jisung huffed. “Don’t be cocky.”

They made their way to Jisung’s house before he helped Minho get his things settled in. He gave Minho some of the cookies he’d baked that morning, earning him a lot of surprised praise. Then they retreated to Jisung’s room and flopped on his bed.

Jisung shifted to lie closer to Minho, and the older boy reached out to hold him closer, pressing his back against Minho’s chest. Jisung let out a sigh of contentment and shut his eyes.

“So glad you’re here,” he said quietly. “It’s been so boring without you.”

Jisung wished he could see Minho’s face now. Was he smiling? Or maybe his eyes were closed. All he heard was a hum in agreement, followed by “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jisung confirmed, fiddling with Minho’s fingers.
“Don’t Felix and the other guys occupy you enough?” Minho asked, earning a huff from Jisung.
“They do. But they don’t. Not enough. Not like you do.”

Minho let out a soft chuckle, the air tickling the back of Jisung’s neck. “Cute.” 

Jisung usually would have argued at that, but he couldn’t form a real sentence with Minho’s breath on his skin. It felt far more intimate than he was used to. More than just laying together or even kissing. They’d done all that before. This felt different. 

They laid together for a while before getting up to play video games and then having dinner. Jisung didn’t have a guest room, so he convinced his mother to let Minho stay in his room. He said they’d blow up an air mattress but he trapped Minho in his bed, laying in each other’s arms under a blanket to escape the winter cold.

The next day, the 24th. Christmas Eve. Jisung dragged Minho out to go shopping. They put their coats on and walked around in the cold, hands joined and perpetual smiles on their faces. Jisung’s face was red with the chill and with the happiness Minho painted on him. 

They got into a Japanese antique store and looked around for a few minutes. They split their hands apart and shuffled around different areas. Jisung was about to suggest leaving when something caught his eye.

He turned his head to see a lucky waving cat staring back at him. It was orange and white, with hazel eyes. It looked exactly like Minho’s cat Soonie. Jisung felt like he had to buy it. Usually these cats were gold, but this one happened to have the same color as the pet Minho regarded as his own child. 

He checked the price tag and was not instantly revolted. It was 40,000 won. Not cheap, but it could be worse. And besides, it would be worth it, for Minho. He discreetly brought it to the register and tried to shield it with his body from Minho’s view. He whispered to the shopkeeper and slid him 40,000 won. 

The old man seemed to understand Jisung was buying Minho a gift, and he did him a favor by wrapping it up nice and tight, then placed it in a paper bag. Jisung bowed and thanked him profusely before taking the bag and returning to Minho.

“What have you got there?” Minho asked, noticing the bag. Jisung smiled. “Nothing. Are you gonna buy anything?”
Minho looked skeptical, but he shook his head. “I don’t think so. Wanna go somewhere else?”

Jisung nodded and waved to the shopkeeper as they left, calling out “thank you” before stepping back into the biting cold. He shivered and stuck close to Minho.
“The only thing I’m grateful for is that it’s not snowing,” he huffed. 

“Yeah, that would make this a bit more difficult,” Minho agreed. “Wanna go get lunch? It’ll warm you up.”

Jisung hummed. “It’s kinda late. Is three-thirty an appropriate time for lunch?” 

Minho shrugged. “There’s no rule that says lunch is at a certain time.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that Jisung giggled. “Right. I guess that’s true. Let’s go, then. Barbecue?”

“Sure thing.” Minho patted his shoulder and left his hand there, guiding Jisung forward and trying to find a nearby Korean barbecue restaurant. 

Once they found one, they sat and stuffed their faces with meat and, unfortunately, some vegetables. (He insisted that Jisung should get the correct amount of fiber and nutrients to balance out the protein from meat. Jisung rolled his eyes and called him a nerd.)
They had a great time talking over food. Jisung was sure he’d never felt so at peace in his life. A soft smile stayed on his lips the whole time. He didn’t tell Minho about the sauce on his chin until the very end, when he wiped it off with his thumb. Minho was embarrassed, but  he told Jisung that he was sexy, and Jisung spluttered nonsense in return, too flustered to make a comeback.

They walked back to Jisung’s place with warm feelings nestled in their stomachs. The golden-laced joy in their veins somehow shielded them from the cold as they made the trek through the freezing city.
Once they got to Jisung’s, they headed right upstairs and collapsed in bed together, holding  each other tightly and drifting in and out of  sleep. 

Minho fell asleep first, surprisingly, and Jisung eyed the brown paper bag sitting on his floor. He had to wrap that. Put Minho’s name on it in pretty lettering and write “from Jisung” with a bunch of hearts. 

However, the sleepiness from eating so much and being drunk on happiness took over him, and he fell asleep on Christmas Eve with his boyfriend snugly in his arms.

Chapter Text

On December 25th, Jisung woke up cold. 

He sat up and looked down, noting the absence of any warmth in his arms. As he slowly began to wake up, he thought maybe Minho coming home had been a dream, and the day was still far away. But then he saw Minho’s bag in the corner of his room, and a second phone charger in the wall, and he frowned.

So Minho was there, but not in Jisung’s bed, in his arms. What the hell was that? He got off his bed and yawned as he dragged his feet out of his room. The bathroom in the hallway was open. Minho wasn’t in there, so Jisung went downstairs.

As soon as he did, he was hit with the lovely aroma of French toast. A lot of cinnamon. He jumped down the last few steps and walked into the kitchen. 

The sight that greeted him made his knees a little weak. Minho, in a hoodie and sweatpants, standing at his stove and cooking. He was wearing an apron that belonged to Jisung’s mother, his hair slightly messed up and his eyes still contained the last traces of sleep. 

Jisung’s mouth went dry. 

It was so… domestic. He loved it. He wanted to wake up and see this every single morning. Minho looked so damn cute when he was tired. 

“Hyung,” Jisung said to get his attention. Minho looked up and when he saw Jisung, he smiled almost automatically. “Hey. Good morning.”

“...good morning.” Jisung swallowed and walked further into the kitchen. “Are you making French toast?’ He asked, just to say something.
“Yeah. I thought it’d be nice to cook for your family. Since I get to stay here.”

Jesus Christ. 

Jisung was really going to fall to his knees and swoon like a maiden if Minho didn’t cut that kind of talk out. But at the same time, it made his heart swell with pride. His boyfriend was so kind and generous. He didn’t have to cook for people he didn’t know. But he did it of his own accord. 

“That’s nice of you,” was all Jisung said. If he said any more, he might end up telling Minho all of the sappy and gross thoughts swirling in his head.
“I’d like to be on their good side. Y’know. Because I’ll have to see them pretty often. It’d be nice if they don’t hate me.” Minho continued. 

“They don’t hate you,” Jisung replied immediately. “Why would you think that?"
Minho shook his head. “I don’t. But I just want to make sure that never ends up happening. And people always like other people who give them food, so.”

Jisung smiled, relieved. “Good. And yeah, I think you’re onto something there.”

He watched Minho cook, sitting on the counter and chatting with him. It was too early for Jisung’s mind to be fully on, so he mostly kept it surface-level. Small talk. Easy talk. They could save all the deep stuff for when they were laying in the dark, in Jisung’s bed, arms around each other. After dark was the best time to talk about feelings. 

When breakfast was ready, Jisung called for his parents to come join them before going to set the table. Minho had already cooked, there was no need for him to do anything extra. Jisung would die before placing any burden on those shoulders. 

The two boys had already sat down when Jisung’s mother and stepfather emerged from their room. His mother seemed delighted, and his stepfather didn’t really display any reaction. He never did. 

“Oh, thank you, Minho. You didn’t need to.” Jisung’s mother said with a smile as she sat down. Minho offered her a polite smile back. “Of course. It’s the least I could do. As thanks for letting me stay here for vacation.” 

They ate and made small talk, and Jisung slowly began to relax. He’d been afraid that his parents would ask Minho something too invasive, or make an uncomfortable comment of some kind. Maybe about why Minho was staying with Jisung’s family rather than his own. Thankfully, it didn’t seem that would happen.

But Jisung could never get too relaxed. The uncomfortable question he was afraid of, was thrown at him instead of Minho the very next moment.

“Jisung-ah, are you ever going to find a girlfriend to spend Christmas with?” His stepfather asked him.

Jisung tensed up. He hated that entire sentence. Everything about it.
Jisung-ah . He wasn’t supposed to call Jisung that. It was too affectionate. It was fake.
Girlfriend. Jisung’s family were always harping on him about getting a girlfriend. He had never come out to them, but he didn’t think it was that hard to tell. Every single time, he told them he didn’t want a girlfriend.
To spend Christmas with. He was spending Christmas with Minho. His boyfriend. 

Fuck off. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back. “No,” he replied instead. “I don’t think I will.” 

“Oh.” His stepfather replied. Awkward silence settled over the table. Jisung wanted to go to his room so badly, but he wouldn’t leave Minho alone or put him in an awkward spot. So he stayed in his seat, silently chewing the last few bites of French toast. 

“Well,” Jisung’s mother said with a tense smile, clapping her hands. “There’s no rush, Jisung-ah. You’ll find a nice girl someday. What about you, Minho? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” She asked, hurriedly trying to get the attention off of her weird son. Jisung internally bristled. 

“No, I don’t,” Minho replied, less bluntly than Jisung, with a smile. He didn’t elaborate, though, and Jisung’s mom’s smile turned even more awkward. She laughed and it sounded so fake that Jisung cringed. “Oh! Haha. Right. I suppose you two are both young. Focusing on your studies is good!”

Minho nodded politely. He glanced at Jisung, who just stared down at his empty plate. Jisung’s mom wasn’t done yet, though. She had to add a comment at the end of every conversation. Like it was her instinct. “I bet you’ll get a girlfriend sooner than Jisung, though. He’s a bit of a loner. You seem like you’d be the popular type, Minho, how did you end up friends with Jisung?”

Jisung didn’t let a single muscle on his face move, but he felt the sting of his mother’s words in the depths of his heart. He knew it, and he wouldn’t deny it. He was a loser. Before he met Minho, he was friendless. He was awkward and emo and just weird. But hearing it from his mother’s mouth always hurt. No matter how many times he heard it, he was never prepared. 

But then Minho replied.
“I don’t think Jisung is a loner. And I’m not popular, or above him in any way.” 

Jisung looked up at him and he wanted to cry. Minho stood up for him. Nobody had ever done anything like that for him until he met this wonderful, strange upperclassman. 

His mother looked a bit taken aback. “Oh… well, that’s nice of you…” She said, seemingly clueless as to what she should say. Jisung guessed that people rarely disagreed with her when she indirectly called him a loser, so she wasn’t sure what her script should be in this situation. 

After a few more tense moments, Minho cleared his throat and looked at Jisung. “Shall we get ready?” He asked, standing up. Jisung stood up too. He didn’t know what Minho was talking about, but he’d take any escape he could. “Yeah, sure, let’s go.” 

They walked up to Jisung’s room and stood there in silence for a few moments before Minho pulled Jisung into his arms wordlessly. Jisung hugged him back, burying his face in Minho’s shoulder and breathing. The sting in his heart slowly faded away. 

“Sorry,” Jisung murmured. “I was hoping breakfast would go well.”
Minho shook his head, putting his hand on Jisung’s head and stroking his hair. “It did go well. Except for that one thing.”

Jisung laughed softly. True enough, he decided. He glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. 

“Wanna go out?” He asked. “It’s Christmas, we should be on a date right now.”
Minho smiled at him, pulling away to see his face. “Sure. Let’s go somewhere.”

They pulled on coats and hats, zipping each other up. Jisung let Minho borrow a pair of pastel pink gloves. Jisung’s were light green, and he thought their hands looked cute together, like spring. A little bit of warmth in the cold winter. 

Jisung hid the lucky cat he bought for Minho in his closet. He’d find a moment to wrap it up cute later, and then give it to Minho when the sun went down. When they were all cozy in bed. Jisung’s cheeks felt a little warmer at the thought.

They walked around the city aimlessly, looking at all the lights and watching kids run around. They stopped in a Japanese restaurant for some ramen, and Jisung tried not to lose his mind when Minho pressed his chopsticks to Jisung’s lips to feed him. It was normal, right? Couples did that all the time.

Couples… that’s right, they were a couple now. It still didn’t feel real to Jisung. To be able to call Minho his boyfriend. He thought of all the times he’d almost lost his mind thinking about how there was no way Minho would ever like him. The first time Minho had ever kissed him, he ran away like a fool. The thought made him smile now.

“What?” Minho asked, glancing over at him. Jisung looked up at him, still smiling. “Nothing. Just…ah, reminiscing about the past.”
Minho raised an eyebrow curiously, but Jisung didn’t elaborate. 

“Alright, you little weirdo,” Minho huffed in amusement when he realized he wasn’t getting a real answer. 

They walked for hours, and Jisung dragged Minho into a mall where they browsed almost every store that piqued Jisung’s interest. He secretly bought a few things for Minho, too, just small and inexpensive gifts that he thought would be appreciated. A bunny keychain, a small plush cat, a little box of chocolate. He’d wrap them with the lucky cat. Maybe he could find time to write a  little note, too.

After they visited the food court and shared fried chicken, the two of them began walking back to Jisung’s place. It was almost six o’clock, and the sun was already down. As much as Jisung wanted to stay out later and see all the pretty lights and have dinner, he was tired and wanted to curl up with hot chocolate and a movie. And Minho. 

They ducked into the house and went right upstairs. Minho helped Jisung take off his coat and then they flopped down on the bed, sighing in unison. 

“I’m so tired,” Jisung complained, earning a laugh from Minho. “Me too.” 

After a few moments of staring at the ceiling in silence, Minho spoke again. “You mind if I take a shower?” He asked. Jisung shook his head. “Go ahead. Tell me if you need help with the faucet or anything. You can use any of the soaps in there.”

“Thanks,” Minho replied with a small smile. He pinched Jisung’s cheek before getting up and gathering clothes from his bag, then disappearing into the hallway. “The hell was that for?” Jisung grumbled to himself, rubbing his cheek. He sat there for a moment longer before getting up and sitting down in front of the brown paper bags in the corner of his room. 

Wrapping things was never something he did. His family never celebrated things like birthdays with gifts; there were special meals and a few extra smiles but Jisung had never once received a gift from his mother. His stepfather thought they were stupid. He didn’t know that Jisung’s core rotted with jealousy when his classmates talked about the new console they got for their birthday or the money as a reward for good grades. 

He’d learned to push that jealousy away, now. Jisung gave gifts to his friends. Those friends weren’t around anymore. Maybe gift-giving drove people away. Maybe that’s why he was stuck with a family that was distant and yet always had their eyes on him. Maybe the love he extended to others when he gave them a gift made him seem weak or too caring. Maybe all the thought he put into every single thing, to make sure it was perfect, made him seem creepy.

Maybe he shouldn’t give these things to Minho.

Would Jisung drive him away too?
Would a day come that he woke up and the first thought in his head was Minho?

Jisung didn’t realize that he wasn’t breathing until he snapped himself out of his mind and the air came flooding into his lungs.
He would give the gifts to Minho. After all, they weren’t friends. Couples were supposed to give each other gifts.

Minho hadn’t given Jisung anything.

The thought nagged at his brain as he clumsily wrapped up a box with the lucky cat and all the little things he’d bought that day. Was Jisung doing too much? It was only their first Christmas; was it overbearing? 

He took a breath. Minho wouldn’t think those things about him. Because Minho was kind and he understood Jisung.
The sound of the shower ceased and Jisung rushed to finish writing Minho’s name on the wrapping. He hadn’t gotten to make a card. He felt bad.

It probably would’ve been too much, anyway.

He hid the box under his bed and managed to quickly sit down casually before Minho walked back into the room, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair damp and a smile on his lips. “Hey. Your shower’s nice, I almost spent the whole night in there.”

Jisung smiled back. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s nice. Water pressure’s perfect.” He tried not to think about the box under his bed.
Minho sat right next to him. Their legs touched. “Yeah.” Jisung didn’t move away. 

“You gonna go next?” Minho asked. Jisung didn’t want to shower, he wanted to spend time with Minho, squeeze every single last second out of their time together. But he didn’t want to appear gross or dirty. So he nodded, got up and fished in his closet for some pajamas.

He could feel Minho’s eyes on him the whole time and it made him nervous. What was he thinking about? 

“What?” Jisung asked after a moment, getting fed up with the prickling feeling of having a gaze like Minho’s boring into him. Into his soul. Sometimes it felt like Minho could look at him and see his secrets, the innermost pieces of him that made up who he was. 

Minho hummed in response, leaning back to rest his head against the wall. “Nothing. You just seem like you’re thinking a lot.”
Jisung hated how Minho could read him so easily. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world to be known. It was the most terrifying at the same time. Minho had the power to make Jisung’s life feel like heaven. He had the power to burn it down to hell. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, feeling it was useless to lie to his boyfriend. If he lied, Minho wouldn’t believe him anyway. “Just stupid stuff. Nonsensical.”

He pretended not to see the smile on Minho’s face that said yeah, right. He wouldn’t force Jisung to talk. The words would come out in their own time. 

The shower was helpful. Hot water cascaded down Jisung’s body and washed away both grime and anxiety. The burning sensation gave him something else to focus on. He used to rely on things like this in more extreme scales. When the thoughts got too loud, the sharp sting of a blade against his skin shocked him out of that headspace. He didn’t do it anymore, but the scorching water against his skin reminded him of it. Except the water wouldn’t leave shameful marks and it didn’t give him anything to hide. The fear drained from his body instead of manifesting as an angry, red tear on his skin. 

Jisung felt like it was egotistical to be proud of himself, but comparing this method of clearing his mind to his old one almost made him think it. That he deserved to take a little pride in how far he’d come. 

After he was clean, he pulled on his pajamas and walked back to his room. Jisung’s hair wasn’t properly dried, so it dripped onto his neck and shoulders, leaving wet spots on his clothes. He didn’t really care. 

“Hey,” Minho greeted him as he looked up upon Jisung’s re-entry. Jisung greeted him back and then climbed into bed beside him, snuggling up against his boyfriend’s side and resting his wet head on a warm chest.

“Your hair is still dripping wet!” Minho huffed, displeased. Jisung smiled and sat up to get his head off the other boy’s perfectly dry sweater. But much to his delight, his head was just pulled back down again and a blanket was gently rubbed over his hair.

The two of them sat in silence for a while before Jisung glanced at the clock. Eight o’clock. It was getting late; he should give Minho the present. He sat up, earning a grunt of protest from the other.

“Hyung,” he took a breath. “I wanna give you something.” 

Minho’s attention was fixed on him. There was no backing out now. Jisung took a breath and got off the bed, crouching down and pulling out the wrapped box with Minho’s name on it.

“Here.” He said, sliding it across the blanket to Minho nervously. “I… This is for you.”

Minho looked genuinely surprised. He looked up at Jisung and blinked rapidly, then down at the box. “For me?” 

“Yeah.” Jisung fiddled with his fingers, stretching them back and forth, pressing on his knuckles. Maybe Minho didn’t like gifts. Was this a mistake after all? 

He watched with barely contained anxiety as Minho opened the box and took out the paper covering everything. Watched as Minho’s eyes went round as he saw the contents of the box. He couldn’t tell if the older boy was happy or not. 

“Jisung…” Minho breathed out as he slowly, carefully, extracted the lucky cat from the box and regarded it. Jisung felt like he was going to throw up.

“I love it.” Shining eyes turned to Jisung and his stomach lurched as he realized Minho was getting emotional. Over Jisung’s gift. 

He watched quietly as Minho smiled at the lucky cat and then inspected everything else; the keychain and plushie and the snacks. Jisung didn’t think he’d ever felt like fainting after giving someone a gift before.

“Thank you,” Minho said, looking at Jisung earnestly. “I don’t even know what to say. I didn’t think you would get me anything.”
Jisung wet his lips and then smiled shakily. “Of course I did. Um… merry Christmas.”
Minho laughed softly. “Thank you. I, um, have something for you too.”

Well, Jisung was not expecting that. “Huh?” He blinked rapidly. “You do?”
“Of course I do.” Minho huffed. “I’m not a completely useless boyfriend.”

Jisung watched silently as Minho stood up and went to his suitcase, pulling out a box just a little smaller than the one Jisung gave him. He held it out.

Slowly, Jisung took it and stared at it for a moment. His name was written on the box, in Minho’s handwriting. It felt poetic, somehow. Oddly intimate. His name inscribed by his lover’s hand. “Open it,” Minho prompted, so Jisung did. And he stared at the content of the box speechlessly for a moment.

A necklace. A simple silver chain with a silver charm, some kind of red jewel in the center. The shape of a star. Next to it, a guitar pick. The same shade of red. Jisung’s favorite.

Tears pricked at his eyes. It was a simple gift, really; but there were layers to it. The chain could have been gold. But Minho remembered his preference for silver. The jewel could have been any other color. Blue, green. But it was red. The specific shade of deep red that Jisung adored. The guitar pick, the same color.  

He looked up at Minho, trying to hold back the flood of emotions scratching at his throat and pulsing behind his eyes. “I…” he looked down and then back up. “Thank you… so much.” 

Minho smiled, softly, fondly. “You’re welcome. And merry Christmas, baby.” 

Baby. The pet name made Jisung’s head spin. And a tear slipped out of his eye. He quickly wiped it away, but Minho was already moving in closer and hugging him. “Don’t cry,” he murmured in Jisung’s ear. “Smile instead.”

So he did. Jisung smiled and he pulled back to regard Minho. He blinked tears out of his eyes that prevented him from seeing clearly. He knew Minho was the handsomest person Jisung had ever laid eyes on, but right now, he looked so beautiful. So kind. Someone worthy of all of the love in the world.

“Thank you,” Jisung said again.
Minho’s lips curved upward more. “You already said that.”
“I know. I wanted to say it again.”
“Weirdo.”

Jisung couldn’t find it in him to feign offense to the playful insult. He was too happy. Feeling too lucky to be dating the best person he knew. 

“Can you put it on me?” He asked, holding up the necklace. A delighted smile sprung onto Minho’s lips and glittered in his eyes. “Of course. Turn around.”

Jisung turned and stared at his wall of posters as he felt his boyfriend gently clip the necklace onto him. Minho’s fingers brushed against the back of his neck and he couldn’t stop the light shiver that seized his body. 

If Minho noticed, he graciously didn’t comment on it. Jisung turned back around and smiled at him, his hand fiddling with the charm. “Thank you, hyung. I love it.”
The soft smile he received in return almost turned his knees into jelly. “Of course, Jisungie. I hoped you would. Are you going to play something for me with this?” He asked, holding up the guitar pick. 

Jisung hesitated. He personally thought he was good at the guitar, but what if Minho was bored by it, or thought he was bad? What if he fucked up the song and embarrassed himself? What if–

“Jisung? Earth to Jisung.” Minho waved his hand in front of Jisung’s face, snapping the younger boy out of his spiral. Right. Minho wouldn’t care if he messed something up.
“Sorry,” Jisung smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ll play for you.”

He took the pick out of Minho’s hand and walked to his guitar, settling down next to it and pulling it into his lap. Minho sat across from him, watching with interest as Jisung tuned the strings. 

Surprisingly, after the first wave of anxiety, Jisung felt calm as he strummed his fingers over the strings and played songs for Minho. Actually, he was excited to show off a little bit. To show his boyfriend that he could do something cool. He wasn’t a total loser. 

The night passed by peacefully. Jisung felt like he was in a little bubble with Minho, and everything else felt far away as they spent the night in their own little haze. After Jisung finished playing, they got in bed together and fell asleep; Jisung’s head on Minho’s chest and their legs tangled together. 

Jisung personally felt that the way they fell asleep that night was how it should be for his entire life. 

After Christmas, Jisung and Minho mostly just hung around the house and played video games or talked. Or kissed each other until they couldn’t breathe. Jisung liked that they did that now. 

For the most part, Jisung’s parents didn’t bother them. But there were still a few times where they made those sideways comments that made Jisung’s heart hurt. He should be used to them by now; but then again, how could someone get used to their own parents insulting them? In front of his boyfriend, no less.

Minho didn’t seem to be very happy with these comments, either. Each time, he would purse his lips and harden his gaze before pulling Jisung off somewhere else. It was equally endearing as it was embarrassing. 

“Do your parents always act like that?” Minho asked once they had retreated to the safety of Jisung’s room after dinner. Jisung just shrugged. “I guess so.”

Minho bit his lip and looked away. “I’m sorry. A few months ago I was all like, oh, your parents are so nice. I didn’t know they were like that.”
Jisung blinked at him. He felt awful saying that his parents weren’t nice. Because they were his parents; but also because he knew Minho’s were worse. 

“No,” he replied, putting a hand on Minho’s shoulder. “It’s okay. They are nice. Except for the times when they aren’t.”
Minho looked at him, seeming unsatisfied, but he nodded anyway. Jisung smiled at him softly and leaned in to press a kiss onto his cheek. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

He received a quiet scoff in response. “It’s my job to worry about you, idiot. I’m your boyfriend.”
Jisung smiled a little wider. “You have a point. Well… don’t worry as much, then. Really. They aren’t villains.” 

“They seem like it to me. How can they be mean to you?” Minho sighed, seeming genuinely distressed at the thought. He cupped Jisung’s face with his hands. “I don’t understand.” 

Jisung’s heart was way too warm. It was going to melt in his chest any second now. He placed his hands on Minho’s arms and kept smiling at him. “If people weren’t mean to me, I wouldn’t have been able to recognize how good you are to me. And then maybe we wouldn’t be here.” He tilted his head slightly, and watched as a surprised smile sprung onto Minho’s face.

“Maybe you’re right,” Minho hummed. “I still don’t like it, though.” He added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Jisung’s lips.

Jisung’s eyes immediately closed as he reciprocated. Minho’s hands on his face made him feel so safe. It was new. But it was incredible.
Growing up reading a lot of action romance novels, Jisung always thought love would feel like burning red. Like fire searing his insides and making him want to fight a war or something. But now that he got to experience it for himself, that’s not what his love for Minho felt like. Jisung’s love for Minho felt like sunlight; golden and glowing and warm. Blinding, comforting light seeping into Jisung’s dark house through the window.

Love? Maybe he could call it that now. What he felt for Minho was definitely not just a crush. No, it was something heavier, something that had ingrained itself into his very being and came with him everywhere. Whenever Jisung saw a cat on the street, his first instinct was to take a photo and send it to Minho. When he was at the store and saw pudding, he thought of Minho. Even the color mint and the scent of sandalwood reminded him of Minho. 

What a loser he had become in the face of love. But even though it might have been a little pathetic, it was still the most beautiful feeling Jisung had ever experienced in his entire life. Not that he’d lived a very long life, no, he was only eighteen, but he felt sure that nothing would come close to this. 

When they pulled apart, Jisung’s lips immediately missed the warmth, and he suppressed a whine. They just stared at each other for a long moment before Jisung giggled. “What?” He asked, a little shy under Minho’s gaze. It was usually sharp, but now it was just soft. Fond. It made Jisung’s heart race.

“Nothing,” Minho replied, removing one hand from Jisung’s face to brush aside his hair. “You’re just pretty.”

God, Jisung was going to pass out.

“So are you,” Jisung shot back, slightly breathless. Minho laughed softly. “Just take the compliment, you weirdo.” 

After a little bit more bickering, Minho said he was going to get water from the kitchen, so Jisung flopped on his bed and giggled into the blanket, still overwhelmed by that feeling, sticky and sweet like honey. 

Two minutes passed. Then five. Jisung frowned as he looked at the clock on his phone. It shouldn’t take him that long to get water. Maybe he couldn’t find something? Jisung got up and left his room, walking down the stairs. His footsteps were silenced by his fuzzy socks.

He heard a voice from the kitchen right before he entered. Minho’s voice. Talking to someone. Jisung didn’t go in. He hid behind the wall. Sue him for being curious and wanting to eavesdrop a little bit in his own house.

“...talk about him like that.” Minho was saying. “I don’t think those things about him at all. He’s my best friend, and I love him very much. So please don’t say things like that. He’s your son, so how can you bring yourself to talk like that?”

Jisung’s heart leapt into his throat. He was going to throw up. Was Minho talking to his parents? About him?  Like that? Oh, God, he was so brave, but Jisung was terrified for him. He didn’t want his mother to insult Minho, too. If Jisung defended himself against her, he was called rude or out of line or ungrateful. He didn’t want Minho to be subjected to words like that. Not when he had come to this house to spend the holidays here. He came here to be happy and escape his parents. Was he going to face the same treatment here, too?

“Okay.” came Jisung’s mother’s voice. Steady. Not angry. Jisung’s breath was still. “I understand. I won’t say things like that to you.” 

A moment of silence followed before Minho’s voice filled it. “No, ma’am, this isn’t about me. I don’t want you to speak about Jisung like that. It hurts him, you know, to hear things like that about himself from his own parents.”

Jisung couldn’t listen to the rest. He didn’t want to hear it if Minho got lectured by his mother. He turned and ran back the way he came, up the stairs and into his room. His heart pounded in every cell of his body. He paced around the room restlessly, trying to calm himself down. 

When he heard footsteps in the hallway and then his bedroom door opening, he whipped around to see Minho standing there with a glass of water and a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry it took so long. Couldn’t find the cabinet with the cups.”

Jisung blinked in surprise. Why did he lie? He squinted his eyes. “...Right.” 

Minho glanced at him, noticing his expression. “What?”
Jisung’s lips pursed for a second before he replied, “you were talking to my mom.”

A moment of silence followed, then Minho sighed. “You heard?”

“Of course I did.” Jisung said. “You were taking forever, so I went down to see if you needed help, and there you were lecturing my mom. Seriously! That stressed me out so bad.” He didn’t realize how high his pitch was getting until Minho looked at him with alarm and walked toward him.

His arms wrapped around Jisung and that was the trigger for tears. Jisung buried his face in Minho’s chest as his shoulders shook. Minho’s strong arms gripped him tighter, held him closer, and after a few minutes Jisung calmed down. 

“Sorry,” he sniffled. “I dunno why I cried.”
Minho smiled at him softly. “Yes, you do.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Jisung agreed. “Because you’re an idiot. What if she yelled at you or something? Insulted you? I don’t want you to be subjected to that here, too, Minho.” He looked up at his boyfriend through teary eyes. “It’s supposed to be safe for you here.”

Minho’s eyes softened and Jisung swore they got a little glossy. “It’s okay, Jisungie,” he soothed, cupping Jisung’s face again and brushing his thumb along Jisung’s soft cheeks. “If she insulted me, I would have been able to take it. I’d rather her be mad at me than keep talking to you like that.” 

“Idiot,” Jisung sniffed. “It’s fine. I’m fine, I’m used to her talking like that.”
Minho sighed. “You shouldn’t be.”
“Neither should you. From your own parents.”
“Of course not.”
“Yeah.”

They held each other for a while longer before going to lay down in bed. They’d taken to this sleeping together thing. Minho never made it sexual or uncomfortable. He just held Jisung close with his strong, secure arms and kissed his face all over until they fell asleep.

Jisung appreciated it. Not that he didn’t think about doing that sort of thing with Minho sometimes. Two nights ago, he laid there contemplating if he should initiate something. His fingers had itched to run over Minho’s body, to see what was hiding under his clothes, to feel the heat of their bodies close together. But he didn’t do it. He was too shy. 

But despite his awkwardness and hidden desires, Jisung really did love this thing they had going on. The innocent way their bodies slotted together perfectly and the pure affection between them. It made him feel secure. Minho was never with him for that sort of thing. For Jisung’s body. He was just here because he loved Jisung too. And that was more than enough.

They stayed up until midnight, watching the countdown as the year changed. Minho was the first person Jisung said “happy new year” to. Minho kissed him when the timer hit zero. There were fireworks outside, but they dimmed in comparison to the ones going off inside Jisung’s stomach.

In the morning, Jisung woke up first. That had never happened, so he didn’t quite know what to do. His eyes scanned the room and fell on the box he had given Minho for Christmas. He had neglected to write a card or a letter, and it had been nagging him.

He untangled his limbs from Minho’s and walked quietly over to his desk. He got out a piece of paper and started writing. His mind was foggy from sleep, but once he thought of Minho, the words weren’t so hard to find. When he started, they wouldn’t stop flowing.

Dear Minho,

Happy New Year. It’s been more than one year since we met, but this is the first time we spent the holiday together. Holding your hand while we counted down was really nice. I want to do it again next year, too, and maybe the year after that as well. As many years as you’ll have me, actually.
I never thought we’d be in this position when we first met. Remember how you scared the crap out of me in the bathroom? I thought you were rude and weird. But I couldn’t get your eyes out of my head. I’m glad we met again after that. Maybe it was fate. If you believe in that kind of thing. I used to think it was stupid, the idea of fate, but I don’t know how else to think of it now. Why else would you return to that specific bathroom at that specific time if not for fate spurring you on?
Anyway, that’s cheesy. Sorry. Don’t make fun of me.
It’s been really nice to hang out with you this past week or so. I missed you a lot. School is so boring without you. I miss when we spent time in stall seven. I still go there, but it’s not the same without you. Do you think they’ll paint over our Sharpie one day? I kind of hope they don’t, because I want to be able to cherish it forever, but at the same time I hope they do. Because after I graduate, neither of us will go to that school anymore, and I want the memories to stay with us. Nobody else should bear witness to our epic love story, ha ha ha. But maybe it will inspire some kid and he’ll write a song about it or something. A novel, maybe. I don’t know. What do you think?
Anyway, this is kind of long, so I’m going to stop writing. Happy New Year, Minho. Let’s celebrate together for a lot more years. I’m serious.

Love, Jisung. 

Jisung stared at the letter for a long moment. It was so corny. A little embarrassing, how love poured from the ink and onto the page. He had written this with his own hand. It was more intimate than a text. 

He folded it up and placed it into a red envelope. He wrote Minho’s name on it and then sealed it with a sticker. When Minho woke up, he could read it. 

Jisung thought about what he wrote on that paper. How he wanted to spend more years with Minho. It was a big, loaded statement. Especially for him. But he found that he truly did mean it. As many years as Minho would tolerate him. Ideally forever. He imagined spending the new year with Minho as old men, in a little house where they made stew and read books with cats on their lap. It made him smile.

He’d always been the type of person to fear the future. Minho had changed him more than he realized, because now he found himself looking forward to it.

As long as Minho was there, it would be a bright future.

Chapter Text

Holiday break came to an end far too quickly for Jisung’s liking. Too soon, he was standing on the train platform waiting for Minho to be taken from him again. To another city, too far to Jisung to reach easily. 

Jisung hadn’t given him the letter yet. It was burning a hole in his pocket as he stood wrapped in Minho’s arms. Their coats were too thick. He wanted less distance. He wanted his body to meld to Minho’s so that they wouldn’t need to separate.

“It’s okay, Jisungie,” Minho was comforting him, a soothing hand rubbing slowly up and down Jisung’s back. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Jisung whined, his voice muffled by Minho’s coat. The shoulder his head was resting on shook with quiet laughter. “I’m just going to Suwon, baby, not another country. I’m only thirty minutes away by train.” 

“Thirty minutes too far!” Jisung cried. “I want you to live with me all the time.”
Minho’s hands guided his head upward and cupped Jisung’s cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet. Minho had a gentle smile on his lips that made Jisung want to kiss him.

“Listen,” Minho murmured. “I’ll visit you as often as I can. And you can come visit me too, okay? Whenever you want. Preferably weekends, though. And once we both graduate, we can live together for as long as you want. Okay?” 

Jisung sniffed, trying to not cry again. “Okay…” The words tucked themselves in the folds of his heart, a promise that he desperately hoped would come true. He pictured them living together. A cute little apartment, maybe, with plants and cats and books and nobody yelling. Nobody insulting each other. Delicious scents would waft from the kitchen as Minho cooked and Jisung would come home from work and they would eat together and talk. It sounded like a dream, like what waited behind the pearly gates.

Could Jisung really have a life like that? Did he deserve it?
The doubt always managed to dirty his pink-tinged imagination. He couldn’t have anything good in that mind of his, it seemed like. 

“Okay.” Jisung whispered after a few moments. Minho smiled a little wider and kissed his nose. Jisung was not satisfied; he pulled Minho right back in and pressed their lips together.
Satisfaction coursed through his veins when Minho kissed him back, and he felt a little warmer standing outside in the cold winter.

When they pulled apart, Minho’s eyes stayed fixed on Jisung’s lips for a moment longer before flicking up to connect their gazes. When Minho smiled, his eyes did too. “You’re such a good kisser,” he remarked, brushing aside Jisung’s bangs.
“Says you,” Jisung mumbled, feeling shy under such gentle touch. Minho really knew how to reduce him to putty. It was dangerous. Jisung loved it.

Minho laughed softly. “One day, you’ll learn to just accept a damn compliment.” 

When the train’s headlights appeared down the tunnel, Jisung’s chest squeezed. He didn’t want Minho to go. His eyes were desperate, carrying all the thoughts he had tumbling around in his mind. “Don’t go,” he whispered pleadingly. 

Minho sighed quietly and brushed aside Jisung’s bangs. He knew how much the younger boy loved it, so he always did it. “I have to,” he replied. “But I’ll be back. And you should come visit me in Suwon, you know?”
Jisung sniffled and fought back tears as he nodded. “I know… I just wish you didn’t have to go at all.”

The hands gently cupping Jisung’s face were so warm. He didn’t want Minho to let go.  “I know, Jisungie. Me either.”

They kissed one more time – two, three more times, and then Minho’s hands slid off of Jisung’s face with an apologetic look. “I’ll see you soon, Jisungie, I promise. It’s not forever.”

“I know.” Jisung gazed at him for a moment longer before he forced a small smile. “I’ll miss you, so come back soon.”
Minho smiled back, a little wider. “I will. Bye, Jisungie.” 

Suddenly, the weight of all of Jisung’s feelings hit him like a truck. Watching Minho’s back turn to him wrenched his heart. “Minho hyung!” He shouted.

He remembered the letter burning a hole in his pocket. He pulled it out and hurried towards Minho one more time. Jisung shoved the red envelope into his hands and breathlessly looked up at him. “I love you.” 

Minho’s eyes went wide and he stared at Jisung for a very long moment before the speaker announced that the train doors would close in a moment.

Minho put his foot on the train and looked back at Jisung. “I–”

The words were cut off by the doors closing. Minho frowned at them and Jisung giggled, thinking it was cute. He watched Minho turn and run away from the door, through the train, sitting at a window facing Jisung. Their eyes made contact and Jisung watched as Minho animatedly mouthed something back to him.

I love you, too.

Despite the fact that Minho was leaving, Jisung’s heart had never felt so warm.

Going back to school after such a magical winter vacation was one of the most difficult transitions of Jisung’s life. He struggled to find motivation to get through all of his classes and then study and do homework on top of it. 

The teachers were beginning to put pressure on the students in Jisung’s grade to pick out a target university and study to get in. Jisung hated it. He didn’t even know if he wanted to go to university or not.

“I should just go to the same one as Minho hyung,” Jisung joked to Felix as they sat at their usual table eating lunch.
“That’s stupid,” Felix replied. “Don’t choose your university just because you’re down bad.” 

Jisung huffed at him. “I was joking… mostly. Well, where are you guys thinking about going?” He asked, glancing up at his friends. 

“Not thinking about that yet,” Hyunjin replied with a shrug. “It’s too early. I’ll worry about that when I’m a senior.”
“Same,” Felix agreed. “We still have, like, two more years until university!”

Seungmin looked at them like they were crazy, but Jisung appreciated their words. He didn’t want to stress about something that seemed so far away, either. He didn’t know if he was smart enough to get into Seoul University or an arts school. And he knew it was stupid to go to a school in Suwon just for his boyfriend, but…

Oh, well. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it. 

When the bell rang, the group split up to go to their separate classes. For Jisung, it was gym period, so he ducked into the bathroom. With a sigh, he sat on the tank of the toilet in stall seven. 

The walls were completely filled by then. Ink, everywhere. On the door, there was just Minho’s “I love you too” and some stars. Otherwise, the only blank part of the stall.

So many memories unfurled in Jisung’s brain for each doodle he looked at. The lyrics to wave to earth’s bad ; their first encounter in the stall. The dick drawing Jisung had placed to make Minho laugh, before they were comfortable with each other. Before Jisung realized Minho understood him like no one else. Minho’s cat drawings, Jisung’s comments on them. “Cute!” “Looks like you.” “Is this one Soonie?” 

His heart was a strange combination of feeling warm and feeling heavy. So much love, written all over these walls. But Jisung couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t do anything to attract this kind of love to him; no heroic deed or magnetic aura that would make him worthy of such adoration. 

Jisung had known it from the start; that Minho was too pretty and too cool and too good for him. The feeling had faded once he was swept up in the rush of a new relationship and starry-eyed from Minho’s attention. But now, he was regaining his self-awareness a bit.

What was someone like him doing with someone like Lee Minho?
Jisung was nothing in comparison to him. An emo loser who used too much eyeliner and attached too many pins to his uniform. Who was too insecure to go to gym class. He was embarrassing and weird, he didn’t understand why Minho would be with him. Waste all this time and energy on him. 

He let out a shaky sigh. If Minho had spent all this time getting to know Jisung, gently and slowly uncovering his heart, then he probably didn’t think those things. But Jisung did. Those thoughts had wormed themselves deeply into his heart and nestled themselves there, holding on stubbornly with their nasty claws. They were comforting in their constance, but exhausting. 

All Jisung wanted was to be happy in his new, beautiful relationship with Minho, but his mind was too active, his trust issues too deep. How was he to know that Minho wasn’t just with him because he was dared to? Or as a joke? The thought made Jisung’s head spin.

One moment, he was in the stall, and the next he was in his middle school’s cafeteria.

“Hey, Jisung!” Someone’s voice rang in his ear, grating and high-pitched. A boy who hadn’t reached puberty. “Do you want to be my friend?”
Jisung’s hands tangled in his hair, his breathing heavy. He tried to block the voice out. Go away, go away, go away – tried to ignore his own past self’s voice, so hopeful, “Really? Can I?”  – let out a strained noise as he knew exactly what came next.

“No way! Haha!” The torturous laughter echoed in Jisung’s head and he pulled at his hair, trying to extract the noise forcefully. “You really think I would be friends with you?” 

Breathe, breathe, breathe – he tried to, he did. Take a deep breath in, hold it, hold it – I can’t breathe, he thought, his heart pounding in his throat. His eyes wouldn’t focus, it kept blurring – in and out, in and out. His breath wouldn’t stay, his vision wouldn’t stay, oh, God, Minho wouldn’t stay –

“Hyung,” Jisung let the word drop from his lips pathetically, a desperate plea for help as tears dripped from his eyes and onto his legs. Minho wasn’t there, and wouldn't save him. Jisung was alone. Again. In and out, in and out. 

He felt Minho’s hand on his back, warm and soothing and steady. It wasn’t real, but he focused on the hallucination anyway. Slowly, he felt air flow through his lungs again. His vision was still blurred by tears, but he didn’t want to see clearly. If he moved, maybe the feeling of warmth on his back would be gone.

“How pathetic,” he whispered to himself, putting his head in his hands. “Stupid… getting like this over a guy from middle school…”

Shaky breaths passed through Jisung’s lips. Shallow, but still breathing nonetheless. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking enough for him to push himself to his feet. 

I hate this.
Jisung thought to himself bitterly, drawing a breath in. He hated that it was so easy for him to spiral into a state of hysteria. He hated that he couldn’t forget those stupid kids from his stupid middle school. He hated the way the memories made him feel and he hated the fact that he still carried those words with him.

He hated that he thought Minho would be someone like that.

Kind, loving Minho, who had been Jisung’s first real best friend. Jisung’s first boyfriend. The boy that had created a space where Jisung felt he could truly be himself. The boy who had stood up for him against his parents. The boy who rescued two kittens and wore cat socks. The boy who, despite coming from a broken home, was still so soft and caring behind that rough exterior.

Jisung felt that he had just defamed a deity, and that he should go to a holy temple and repent. 

“Sorry, hyung,” he whispered to the empty bathroom. “I don’t think of you like that.”
Minho would never hurt him, not on purpose.

For sure. Jisung knew it. He’d finally met someone who really loved him.
This time, it would go right.

Chapter Text

When Jisung told Minho about his panic attack, the older boy had called him immediately and talked to him on the phone for hours. He told Jisung a lot of pretty things; that Jisung was the only one for him, that he wouldn’t leave. 

It was all very nice. But then Minho told Jisung to come down to Suwon for the weekend so they could spend some time together. It made Jisung’s heart slow down. Minho wanted to see him. Minho invited him to come to his dorm.

The cloudy feeling in his heart cleared up a bit as he prepared to go. He just put a change of clothes in a bag and laid on his bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. It had only been a couple weeks without Minho and yet it felt like it had been forever. 

Jisung never thought of himself as someone who depended on others until Minho came along and destroyed that whole image he had before. Before, he was quiet and reserved and didn’t get attached easily. Now look at him – having panic attacks because he thought a boy would leave him. 

He couldn’t help but scoff at his own pathetic behavior. When had he become so soft?

At dinner, Jisung told his parents he was going to Suwon for the weekend. They didn’t care. Of course not. They might not have even noticed if he left without saying anything at all.

Friday night, he threw his toothbrush and headphones into his bag and took sleeping pills. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep if he didn’t.

That night, he dreamed of sharp eyes and soft touches. 

On Saturday morning, he was beside himself with excitement. Even though it hadn’t even been that long without Minho, he still was all worked up. He missed Minho’s hands on his skin and that piercing gaze fixed on him. Minho’s attention seemed like it was constantly on Jisung, undivided, whenever they were together. Jisung loved it; craved it, basked in it. No one had ever treated him that way before.

He texted Minho that he was on the way once he sat on the train. The conductor called for the doors to close. Jisung’s heart wouldn’t stop fluttering.

Minho
I’m excited to see you

Jisung
me too, its been too long

Minho
It’s been two weeks

Jisung
yeah, my point still stands… too long

Minho
Alright, touche. Let me know when you get here

Jisung
will do, boss

Jisung smiled at the eye-roll emoji Minho sent and then put his headphones on. Once music was drowning out the sounds of people around him, he sighed and looked out the window quietly. 

All of the lyrics in his playlist reminded him of Minho. It was beginning to get a little ridiculous. There’s no way he was this obsessed with a boy he met two years ago. Well, two years is kind of a long time. But still… Jisung sighed. His face felt hot.

But beneath his embarrassment, it was a little soothing. To think of Minho all the time. Minho made him happy, so if everything reminded him of the older boy, then he’d have a lot of moments where he was happy. 

He used this logic to justify it, but really, it just boiled down to the fact that he was head-over-heels in love. But that was a little embarrassing to admit.

About an hour later, the conductor announced that they were in Suwon. Jisung jumped up from his seat as soon as the doors opened, and hurried off the train. The crisp January air hit his face and he took a deep breath in, letting it cool his nerves. 

He put Gukje University into his phone and then started walking, his heart beating fast. The walk to the university from the station was about twenty minutes, and Jisung felt like he was going to faint the whole way.

Calm down. He told himself. It’s just Minho. I saw him two weeks ago.

Five minutes from the university, Jisung saw a convenience store. He decided to pop in and buy something for Minho, for no real reason. Just a small gift to say ‘I love you.’ 

Browsing the colorful aisles made him more impatient. The more time passed, the less time he got with Minho. So he grabbed a chocolate bar and paid for it before getting on his way again. The cold air spurred him on, pulling his jacket closer around his frame as he shivered.

Gukje wasn’t anything show-stopping, but Jisung was nervous anyway. He stepped onto the campus hesitantly, and he felt like everyone around him could tell he didn’t belong there. High schooler! They were all snickering in his mind. He’s not in university! 

“Shut up,” Jisung mumbled under his breath. His overactive mind pissed him off sometimes, when it provided him with completely unnecessary and irrational scenarios. Who cared if he was a high schooler? Nobody. 

He texted Minho that he’d arrived, waiting impatiently for a response.
Two minutes later, Minho hadn’t even read Jisung’s message, so he took matters into his own hands. 

Well, not really. He was just planning to walk around a bit until Minho texted back. No point in standing there looking dumb. 

It wasn’t a bad campus. Jisung had visited Yonsei and SNU before, and both of the campuses were gorgeous and he’d felt like he was somewhere important. But Gukje wasn’t fancy. Somehow, it soothed Jisung’s nerves a little bit.

While walking through a solemn corridor, Jisung saw the figure of somebody very familiar. He smiled on instinct, recognizing Minho immediately, even from the back. He sped up a bit, planning to scare the older boy, but suddenly he stopped in his tracks.

In front of Minho, Jisung saw a girl he didn’t recognize. She was standing so close to him, her hand reaching up to touch him.

And Minho wasn’t stopping her, or pushing her away.

Jisung stared blankly for a moment before he felt overwhelmingly sick. Nausea hit him like a freight train, and his heart sunk down to his feet. It might have cracked on the way down.

There have been times where Jisung felt hurt in his life, betrayed, miserable. But he had never felt his heart shatter in his chest before this very moment. His shaking hands let go of the chocolate he was holding. 

Pain pressed against his eyes and spilled out onto his cheeks. Numbly, he turned around to leave. One step. Two steps. His chest felt tight. His throat wouldn’t allow him air.

The image of that girl reaching up to touch Minho’s face invaded Jisung’s mind and white-hot anger flashed through his veins. He spun back around, picked the chocolate up and chucked it as hard as he could in Minho’s direction.

Jisung had never been athletic, but sometimes he got lucky. He thanked the heavens that this was one of those times, watching the chocolate hit Minho in the back of the head.

Before he could see if Minho turned around or not, Jisung was already storming off. Tears dripped from his eyes and his breath wouldn’t return as he walked quickly. His legs were jelly; it felt like they would give out any second. Jisung wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. 

He’d been so certain that Minho would never break his heart, never betray him. But maybe deep down, all those fears were still there, and they had warned him. You’re a fool to trust him. Maybe he’s nice to you, but inevitably, he will hurt you. Because you aren’t enough.  

“Jisung!” 

Minho’s voice shouting his name almost made Jisung stop and turn around, get on his knees and sob until he couldn’t anymore. But he kept walking, trying to get breath back in his lungs. The walls all blurred and Jisung wasn’t even sure where he was.

“Jisung, wait, please,” Minho was calling after him desperately. Jisung didn’t wait. He started running, his fear spurring him on. “Jisung, I–”

“Shut up!” Jisung’s own voice surprised him. It didn’t sound like it came from his mouth. The words tore out of his throat from deep in his chest, the pain clearly audible. “Leave me alone!”

Minho must have been shocked into silence, because he didn’t say anything else.

Jisung wished he did. 

He ran all the way back to the train station and looked for a bench to crumple down on.

Once he found a seat, he curled into himself and cried. He pulled his scarf over his face and bit the fabric to muffle and hide himself from prying eyes and just cried. Jisung’s heart had never hurt like this before. 

Minho was the one person he felt he could really trust. The first person Jisung had ever fallen in love with. God, Jisung loved him with all of his heart, and this is what he got in return. He didn’t even know Minho liked girls. He’d never mentioned it.
What else had he been hiding from Jisung? Other than his sexuality and the fact that he’d been cheating.

Anger settled into Jisung’s heart right beside the misery. He didn’t think it was fair to love someone with everything he had and then get betrayed. He thought he had been doing well. Maybe he hadn’t been able to live up to Minho’s expectations of a relationship. Maybe he didn’t like their age gap, or Jisung’s strange family dynamic, or Jisung’s weird habits and his nervous tendencies. Maybe he thought Jisung was immature and finally got fed up. Maybe he wanted intimacy and since they hadn’t done anything yet, he sought it out from someone else.

If any of those things were the reason, he just wished Minho would’ve talked to him. Jisung could have fixed it. He could suppress those habits or pretend to not be nervous. He could avoid his family when Minho was around. He could learn to act mature. He could offer his body over to Minho. 

A sob wracked Jisung’s body as he thought about it. One of the biggest reasons why he loved Minho was because he felt authentic around him. Seen and valued for all of his flaws and weird traits. 

I guess not.

Jisung sat there at the bench in Suwon Station for a long time. A train came and went but he didn’t move, just sat there numbly staring at the ground. His eyes were stinging from the dryness but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Despite everything, he wished more than anything that Minho was there with him, strong arms holding Jisung secure and murmuring kind apologies into his ear. Maybe then Jisung’s soul would soothe and he could breathe normally again. 

But for now, he would just sit in the cold air and breathe manually, because it seemed his body didn’t know how to work properly without Minho around.  

Chapter Text

Somewhere amidst Jisung’s misery, he vaguely registered his phone buzzing incessantly. He couldn’t bring himself to pick it up. If it was Minho, he would be pissed. If it wasn’t Minho, he would still be pissed. So he ignored it, the numbness in his mind blurring the sound and making it fade to the background.

It could have been five minutes or five hours that passed by the time Jisung’s mind started working again. The ache in his chest wouldn’t go away, but his eyes unblurred and he could feel his fingers again. His phone was still buzzing. It was beginning to drive him crazy.

He picked his phone up and looked at the screen, seeing Minho’s name stare back at him in big, mocking letters. He stared at it blankly; didn’t accept or decline. When it stopped ringing, he saw stacks of notifications that showed missed calls from Minho. He checked his call log. Minho had made seventy-five attempts. 

Jisung scoffed quietly. How would he try to apologize for cheating? What could he possibly have to say?
(That is what he said to himself, but deep in his soul, he wanted to hear what Minho had to say more than anything. Maybe he had an explanation. Maybe he would say something that could remove the thorn that lodged itself in Jisung’s heart.)

I should’ve known. 

The thought flashed through his mind, and while Jisung knew exactly where it would lead, he didn’t have the mental strength to push it away. 

Why did he let himself get attached? Why did he let himself fall in love? He was naive. He should know by now that getting too deep into a relationship would only end in heartbreak for him. He should have known Minho would hurt him eventually, too, even if the older boy had felt like home.
Sometimes home could be dangerous, too. Jisung knew that. What waited at home could hurt. 

The loud thoughts in Jisung’s head drowned out the noise of everything else. He couldn’t hear the conversations happening around him. He couldn’t hear the wind rustling against his ears or his phone buzzing again or the rapid footsteps drawing closer to his bench.

The sound of his own name jolted him harshly out of his own head, shouted by an achingly familiar voice that made Jisung’s stomach lurch.

Before he could even turn his head, someone was next to him, pulling Jisung into strong arms. Shaking hands rested on his back. Heavy breathing was all he could hear next to his ear.

“Jisung,” Minho breathed out, forcing the words out as he panted. “Jisung.”  He was holding Jisung so tightly that for a moment the younger boy couldn’t breathe right. Or maybe his heart just wasn’t working. 

“Please.” Minho whispered, letting go of Jisung and sinking to his knees. His desperate eyes looked up into Jisung’s. They were red and glossy. Had he been crying? Jisung wanted to throw up.

“Let me explain.” The words were so frantic. “Please, please, listen to me. Hear me out.”
Minho was… on his knees, begging. Jisung, for a blissful moment, forgot about the situation and just stared, stunned into silence. He never thought he would see this. It wasn’t pleasant. He didn’t want Minho to beg him for anything. He just wanted Minho to love him.

Minho must have taken his silence as a rejection, because he brought his shaking hands up to  hold Jisung’s. “Please. Don’t ignore me. I need you to listen to me. You– what you saw, it wasn’t– it might have looked a certain way, but I– it wasn’t what you think it was. Please listen to me. Jisung. ”

Maybe it was the desperate, distraught, yearning way Minho said his name that snapped Jisung back into reality. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “...What?” 

Jisung had never seen relief crash down on somebody’s face before. Minho looked so hopeful it hurt. He opened his mouth and talked so quickly, spitting everything out at once. “I’m not making excuses. Please. That girl– she’s been trying to get me to go out with her for a while. I told her I have a boyfriend. She’s been so persistent. Said she could ‘turn me straight.’ She was so relentless, Jisung. I wasn’t doing anything with her. I don’t know how much you saw, but I was telling her no. She tried to touch me. I told her no. Please believe me. I wouldn’t do that to you, Jisung. Never.”

Silence followed so heavily as Jisung stared at Minho. He was inclined to believe the explanation. He wanted to, so badly. He didn’t want to think Minho would cheat on him. But he knew what he saw.

“You didn’t push her away,” he said quietly. “I saw it. You were just standing there. And she was so close to you.”
Jisung was surprised by the steadiness of his own voice. He certainly didn’t feel steady. 

“No, Jisung,” Minho shook his head. “I– you don’t understand. She’s one of those girls, the popular type who everybody loves. I can’t put my hands on her, or be mean to her, or else I’ll be everyone’s target. Please understand. I tried to get away, I did, but she kept moving closer. I was telling her over and over that I don’t like her and that I’m taken.” He was talking so hurriedly, barely pausing to breathe. The desperation in his voice and written all over his face made Jisung’s heart hurt even more.

“...Okay,” he whispered. “But…  I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Minho looked like the world had just crumbled in front of his eyes. Jisung had never seen him look so devastated. He regretted saying that. He didn’t think it would hurt Minho that much. “I’m sor–”

“No,” Minho interrupted. “Don’t you dare apologize. It’s my fault. Whatever you feel, it’s… I get it.” He took a shaky breath, squeezing Jisung’s hands. He lowered his head. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry, Jisung. I should have pushed her away sooner. I don’t know why I was so scared. I swear to God, there’s no one I want in this world more than you.”

Jisung had cried so much earlier that he thought he wouldn’t be able to cry anymore. But apparently he was wrong, because Minho’s words struck him in the heart so deeply that he started bawling.

Minho’s arms were around him in an instant, holding him close and so securely. Achingly gentle and yet so strong. So perfect, just like every other aspect of Minho, and Jisung loved him so much. So much that he felt like he was being torn apart between the adoration and the pain of almost losing him.  

He knew Minho was amazing. He knew Minho wasn’t the type of person that would cheat. The overwhelming, paralyzing fear that numbed every sense in Jisung’s body made him doubt that. But the misery and hopelessness that had sunk their claws into Jisung’s organs and ripped him apart for just a little while were beyond excruciating and all he wanted to do was sink into Minho’s steady arms and cry until he fell asleep. 

He didn’t end up falling asleep there at the station. But he did stop crying, after anywhere between five minutes to three hours. He pulled back reluctantly and looked at Minho. The older boy was also crying. Not as much as Jisung, but the red puffiness around his eyes and the tear stains on his cheeks stabbed Jisung’s heart. 

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” he said, his voice raspy and scratchy from crying so damn hard.
Minho shook his head. “What did I just tell you? Don’t you apologize to me. I love you. It’s not your fault.”

Jisung’s lip wobbled and Minho cupped his face before he could start crying again. “Don’t cry, please. It hurts my heart so bad.” He lifted himself up to sit beside Jisung, holding him closer. Being pressed against Minho’s chest was soothing and Jisung found himself melting into it. 

Minho’s gentle hands stroked through Jisung’s hair, slow and tender, and Jisung’s heart stopped racing. The fear that had been eating at every cell in his body calmed  down. Minho was here, with him, and he hadn’t cheated. Probably. Jisung was still a little paranoid. But he wanted to believe his boyfriend. He had no reason to lie. And that primal, wild desperation in his eyes didn’t come from nowhere. 

Gentle lips pressed against Jisung’s temple, and then his cheek, and the tip of his nose. “I’m sorry,” Minho whispered. “I would never do that to you.” Another kiss, below his eye. His ear. His jaw. 

“Okay,” Jisung whispered back. “I’ll believe you.” 

The train pulled up, ringing loudly, but Jisung ignored it. Minho glanced at it nervously, but Jisung shook his head. “I don’t wanna go back yet.”

Minho nodded, seeming relieved. “Alright. Good.”

The two of them stayed there on the bench, embracing each other tightly, for a long time. But soon, the sun started to dip down.
“Come on,” Minho murmured. “We should go back to my dorm. You’ll get sick.”

Jisung just nodded, too tired to argue or formulate a real response. He stood up with Minho, their hands entwined, and they walked twenty minutes back to the university and down a winding path to reach a dormitory building.

They walked up a flight of stairs until they reached Minho’s dorm room. As the older boy slid a key in to unlock it, Jisung couldn’t help but notice the number printed on the door. 143. He smiled a bit.

“What?” Minho asked, noticing out of his peripheral vision.
“Nothing,” Jisung replied quietly, still smiling. “Just… your dorm number. It means ‘I love you.’” 

Minho blinked at him, looked at the door, and back again. Then he smiled back. “Seems fitting for me to take you in here, then.” 

If Jisung’s stomach flip-flopped at those words, that was no one’s business but his own.

Minho’s dorm wasn’t anything special. Small, as college dorms tended to be, but cozy. Mostly white, but little personal things dotted around to give it a soul. Small potted plants, a book, a tin of cookies. A red pillow on the couch. 

“Do you have a roommate?” Jisung asked him. Minho nodded. “Yeah. He’s chill. He spends most of his time at his girlfriend’s dorm, though, since it’s bigger.”

“That’s good for you, then,” Jisung said softly as he was led into a bedroom he could immediately tell was Minho’s. It was small. A loft bed on one side, a desk underneath it, and a clothing rack on the other side, as well as a small shelf. That’s it, but it had Lee Minho written all over it. 

Manga on the shelf along with a few music albums. Mini potted plants on the desk. Notebooks and textbooks scattered over the surface. A hoodie draped over the chair – the blue one he’d worn to their first coffee date. The lucky cat Jisung had gotten him displayed in the corner of the desk. Hoodies and sweaters hung up on the rack. It felt comfortable and it smelled like Minho.

Jisung’s nerves dissipated. “I like it,” he said, and Minho smiled.
“Yeah?”

He nodded in confirmation, and Minho tried and failed to keep the proud expression off his face.
God, he was so cute, Jisung wanted to marry him. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “You’re welcome here any time. Come on, you can change into pajamas. I’ll make us snacks, let’s watch a movie.”

“Okay,” Jisung said, blinking. He was a little overwhelmed with how sweet Minho was being. He wasn’t used to this quite yet. Sarcastic, silly Minho was more typical. But he probably wouldn’t want to crack jokes after almost ruining their relationship.

Once Minho left to go fetch some snacks, Jisung took off his clothes and pulled on the pair of pajamas he’d brought. The shirt had a cat on it; he thought Minho would appreciate it. That boy and his love for cats. It was more of an obsession, really. Jisung vaguely wondered if he’d had a furry phase in middle school. 

When Minho returned, he threw on comfortable clothes himself (Jisung had shyly averted his eyes) and then they climbed up into the loft bed with Minho’s laptop. Jisung’s heart stuttered when he noticed the plushies he’d given Minho were neatly lined up along the pillow. He wanted to cry and melt into the blankets. How could he ever accuse Minho of cheating? 

Jisung rested his head on Minho’s chest and focused his sleepy eyes on the screen. He didn’t really know what movie it was, and in the back of his mind he kind of knew that it wasn’t a movie that was put on so they could get into it and watch and then debrief like usual. Just a mindless, random thing to soothe his mind and lull him into peaceful sleep. Minho must have done it on purpose. Jisung loved him so much. 

“Hyung,” he mumbled right before sleep overtook him completely. “Thanks…”

Minho let out a soft breath before he stroked Jisung’s hair gently. “Of course, Jisungie. Don’t thank me. Now go to sleep. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Jisung murmured before letting his consciousness fade away. He knew he would be safe in Minho’s arms. He always had been. Minho made everything better. As soon as his arms were around Jisung, then nothing else mattered. 

Jisung woke up with a jolt. His bleary eyes stared into the darkness of Minho’s dorm as he tried to get rid of the fuzz in his brain. 

He wanted to sit up, but a pair of arms wrapped around his waist stopped him. He quietly huffed and looked at the wall. It was pitch black in Minho’s room; Jisung wondered if it was close to morning or if he would have to lay there for hours waiting for the sun. 

After fumbling for his phone which was somewhere in the mess of blankets, and squinted as the bright screen blinded him. 04:26. He groaned internally. Too early to be up and doing anything, but his eyes just wouldn’t stay shut.

So as to not wake Minho, Jisung shut his phone off and laid there quietly. He shut his eyes, and yet sleep would not take him. So his mind wandered – to why he was awake at this hour, to what he would get for breakfast, to the assignments he had due next week, to the boy next to him.

The moment he let Minho into his mind, the memories of what happened the previous day crashed down on him. His hands balled into fists on the sheets. 

Despite all of Minho’s pleading and apologizing, Jisung still couldn’t shake that little bit of worry in the back of his mind. Rationally, he knew Minho would not hurt him like that. Not intentionally. Irrationally, in his stupid anxiety-addled mind, he thought that what he’d seen was true. Minho had gotten tired of him and began seeing a girl. Since Jisung didn’t go to school with him anymore, how would he ever know? 

No. He tried to ward the thought away. Guilt pricked at his eyes all the way down to his stomach. What an insult to Minho to think of him as somebody who would cheat. Simply defamation of his kind and wonderful character. 

Jisung was just so torn. He didn’t know what to think. He had faith in Minho, but the terror that had crashed onto him when he’d seen the older boy with that girl had been unmatched.
He’d been terrified before. When his father used to fight loudly with his mother at night when they thought he was asleep. When he was ridiculed by the popular kids in middle school. When he almost got into a fight with Hyunjin.  

But the horror of seeing the one he loved so intimately close with somebody else made everything he’d experienced before seem small and laughable.
Jisung knew he wasn’t the best person in the world. He knew there were surely better options out there for someone like Minho, who was the closest to perfect Jisung had ever encountered. That’s why he’d been so utterly hysterical at the thought of Minho finding someone else. 

He didn’t even understand fully why Minho had picked him in the first place.

With a soft sigh, Jisung tried to burrow deeper into the blanket and back into Minho’s chest. He brought his hand up to hold the one draped over his side. Minho’s hands were small. It made something fond rise up in Jisung’s chest. 

No amount of fear could tear the love out of him. 

Jisung laid there for hours staring, thinking, waiting for Minho to stir. When he finally did, Jisung snapped his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. Just to see what would happen.

Minho let out a quiet noise as he sat up, yawning. He untangled his limbs from Jisung’s and unattached their hands. It was silent for a few seconds before Jisung felt the gentle brush of fingers against his cheek, then his forehead, moving his hair out his face.

He could’ve sworn he heard a soft laugh before Minho leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Jisung’s cheek. “Pretty,” the older boy whispered. “You’re so pretty and you have no idea.”

Jisung used every ounce of strength in his body to keep his eyes shut and his breathing steady. Minho’s words set his heart on some kind of Olympic stage with how fast it was racing. The gentle presence of the older boy’s hands on his face made him want to cry.

Eventually, Minho withdrew and climbed down from the bed. Jisung could hear the faint sounds of him getting ready for the day. Jisung’s eyes opened and he stared at the wall, breathing slowly as he tried to get his heart under control. 

After maybe fifteen minutes, Minho climbed back up and put his hand on Jisung’s shoulder.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Wake up, sleeping beauty.” He shook the younger boy gently.
Jisung let out a noise of protest, pretending to have just woken up.

“No,” he whined. “Five minutes.”
Minho quietly laughed. “No, baby. Come on, let’s go get breakfast. Get dressed.”

“A date?” He asked petulantly, rolling over to look up at Minho. He was not prepared for the look of utter fondness on the other’s face. It made his breath stutter.
“Yes,” Minho replied, leaning down to kiss him between his eyebrows. “A date. Now get your ass moving.” 

Jisung grumbled an insult under his breath but he did get up and clamber down from the loft to get dressed and wash his face. He brushed out his unruly waves and flicked black ink around his eyes and gloss over his lips. 

Minho smiled at him when he emerged from the bathroom. “Ready?” He asked, eyes traveling appreciatively down Jisung’s clothes. “Little fashionista we’ve got here today.”
Jisung’s cheeks felt hot. He cleared his throat. “Well, some of us like to put effort in for our boyfriends.”

He was met with a raised eyebrow and a tilted head. “Do you think I’m not putting in effort?”
Jisung’s eyes widened. “What? When- when did I say that?’

“You didn’t,” Minho stood up. “But you kind of implied it.”
“No.” Jisung shook his head. “I didn’t mean that at all.” 

He felt guilt prick at his skin. He hadn’t meant to imply that. It was meant as a joke. Apparently it didn’t come off that way, though.
“Alright.” Minho nodded. “Sorry for jumping to conclusions."

Jisung blinked. “What– no, it’s not… it’s fine. Sorry for coming off that way.”

And then that was that. They walked out the door and any sign of displeasure on Minho’s face or in his posture disappeared. Jisung was puzzled. Did they really resolve such a spat that easily?

“Minho?” He fidgeted as they walked down the hall of the university. “You aren’t upset about what I said?”
The older boy threw an amused glance over at the younger. “No, I’m not. You said you didn’t mean it that way. Right? So why would I still be upset?”

Jisung was stunned for a moment. “But… oh. Okay. I’ve just never seen a fight be resolved that fast.”
Minho snorted. “Jisungie, that was not a fight. Just a small misunderstanding. Don’t worry.” 

Fondness welled up in Jisung’s chest again. He knew Minho was the right choice. He always knew how to reassure Jisung so well, how to dispel all of his worries with a few words. 

“Okay.” He slipped his hand into Minho’s, earning him a smile. “Thanks, hyung.”
“No problem, Jisungie.” Minho squeezed Jisung’s hand tightly. 

They went out to a cafe near the university and Minho paid for everything. Their coffees and their food. Jisung wasn’t exactly surprised, because he had done that before, but it was still a bit startling and foreign to him to have someone care for him in that way. 

However, in his mind, he swore to himself that he would pay for Minho next time they went to a cafe. 

And just like that, Jisung’s mind got carried away thinking about the future. Their future. Minho was in every single image. 

It would probably mystify him forever how easy it was for Minho to cast away all of his worries and leave him feeling like he had sunshine in his chest and cotton candy for a brain. 

Chapter Text

Their day in Suwon was laid-back. Minho took him to the local library and they browsed but didn’t check anything out. In the afternoon, they found a small restaurant owned by a couple and got samgyeopsal for lunch. Jisung insisted that Minho let him contribute to paying that time. Meat was more expensive than pastries and coffee, after all. It wouldn’t be fair. 

After lunch, they walked around a park for a while before hopping on a bus and heading back to the university. Minho took him to a local grocery store and bought some ingredients, saying he’d cook dinner for the two of them.

Jisung watched as he picked out tomatoes, utterly enthralled by the idea of Minho cooking for him. It made him giddy. The image he conjured in his mind was so domestic it made his head spin. 

They walked to the dorms quickly, the evening chill biting through their sweaters and their joined hands. Inside, Jisung wrapped them in a blanket and they huddled on the couch with tea and an episode of a new drama on Minho’s laptop. 

“Okay,” Minho said decisively as he stood up. “I’ve warmed up enough. Gonna start on dinner now.”
Jisung looked up with a small pout. “So soon?” He complained, earning a smile and a light bout of teasing from the older.

Five minutes into Minho being away, Jisung got restless. He paused the drama and got to his feet, walking a few feet into the small kitchen area. It could hardly be considered a separate space from where the couch was, but to Jisung, Minho might as well have been in another dimension.

He hoisted himself up onto the counter and sat there quietly watching the older boy cook. The deft way Minho chopped vegetables and focused so hard on making it correctly made Jisung bite his lip. He looked so attractive like this, so concentrated and so confident in his movements. 

When Minho dug his fingers into a pepper to get the seeds out, Jisung felt a tingle in his stomach. 

“Hyung,” Jisung kicked his feet. “You look pretty.”
He hadn’t really planned to say that. The words just fell from his mouth. But they were true anyway.

Minho looked up and smiled. “So do you.” He replied as he abandoned the pepper for a brief moment to walk over and press a kiss to Jisung’s lips.

Jisung kept giving him compliments as he cooked. Every single one earned him a kiss. He was beginning to be quite spoiled with affection. 

When Jisung could tell Minho was almost done cooking, he smiled and tilted his head. “Ooh, hyung’s doing such a good job there. Can I have another kiss, though?” He thought to just ask shamelessly. And it worked, because the words that left his mouth made Minho’s eyes jerk over to him immediately. His feet soon followed, and indulged a delighted Jisung in a passionate kiss.

He stood between Jisung’s knees and kissed him deep and slow. His fingers dug into the flesh of Jisung’s thighs, holding him in place. Something about that unearthed a hot sensation in the pit of Jisung’s stomach.

They’d kissed a lot before – even made out a few times, but Jisung had never felt this before. The feeling that something was about to happen. He just didn’t know what.

Suddenly, Minho licked his tongue against Jisung’s lips. The younger boy jolted, not expecting that, but he opened his mouth anyway. The feeling that followed made heat pulse through his veins and flush against his skin. 

Minho wouldn’t let go . He seemed to forget about the food on the pan as he kissed Jisung with intensity that they hadn’t explored before. It was a little terrifying, but mostly, Jisung was in heaven. The heat in his core was curling deeper and burning hotter every second that passed. The feeling of Minho’s tongue against his drew an embarrassing noise from Jisung’s throat, something like a whimper. 

That made Minho pull away abruptly. Jisung’s stomach dropped, thinking he’d accidentally grossed the older boy out or something.
When he looked up at Minho’s eyes, all of the thoughts in his brain dissolved into nothing.

He’d seen Minho look at him with anger, with despair, with amusement and with adoration. But he had never seen the look in his eyes he had now. A haze, glazing over his eyes and making him look a little out of his mind.

Want, Jisung realized with a jolt. Desire, maybe. Lust.
He shivered. 

“ Minho hyung ,” Jisung whispered, gripping the older boy’s shirt tightly. Minho bit his lip and reached over to turn off the stove top. “Yes?” He breathed, his voice coming out gravelly. It sent a thrill up Jisung’s spine. 

Jisung didn’t quite know what to say. He just pulled Minho closer and kissed him again. Minho’s hands immediately slid around him and under his ass, pulling him into his arms and carrying him. Jisung’s legs wrapped around Minho’s hips.

The pressure between Jisung’s thighs was a little embarrassing, to say the least. But in his defense, he’d never made out with anyone this fervently before. It was a natural reaction. How could he not get like this when Minho had looked at him like that? 

Minho brought Jisung to his room and shimmied him up the ladder of  the loft bed. Jisung was gently laid down on the blanket and Minho stared at him, trying to rein himself in.

“Jisung,” Minho licked his lips. “If you don’t want to do something, please tell me.”

A jolt made its way through Jisung’s body at the implications in Minho’s words. Were they about to do something? His head spun and his heart pounded out of control. He pressed his legs together to conceal the growing problem between them.

“Okay,” he whispered. “But I think– I think I want to.” 

Minho crawled on top of him, looking down at Jisung and placing his hands on the younger boy’s face. “You think?” He repeated. “I’m not going to make you do something you’re not one hundred percent sure about, Jisungie.”

Jisung bit back a smile at Minho’s words. Even with his eyes darker than usual, he was still so kind. “No.” He shook his head. “I-I’m sure. Just…nervous.” 

Minho smiled softly at him. “Okay. Don’t be nervous. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
The inexperience Jisung possessed gnawed at him. What if, after they did it, Minho was disgusted or disappointed? What if, what if, what if.

Suddenly, he was tired of always coming up with these daunting hypotheticals. For once, he just wanted to let go and see something through without working himself into a frenzy over it. So he watched as Minho removed his shirt, and laid still with only a light shiver as gentle hands ran down his torso reverently. 

“You’re beautiful,” Minho murmured. His voice was quiet, but in the silence of the dark room, Jisung heard him just fine. The intimacy of the low volume made him feel alive. No one had ever spoken to him in such a specific manner. No one had ever touched him this way or lit his heart ablaze with such easy finesse. 

Minho did a lot of things that others simply could not. Jisung could not imagine it being anyone else hovering over him as he laid there vulnerable. Could not imagine another pair of hands working to remove his jeans in such an unhurried manner. 

Jisung could see the want seeping from Minho – his eyes, the way his fingers lightly trembled, the quick way his breath came out. But still, the older boy was so gentle and slow with him. Jisung’s breath shuddered. He was so young, not quite done with high school, and yet somehow he knew he would never want another in this life. 

“Are you alright so far?” Minho whispered, his hands returning to cup Jisung’s face. The younger responded with a nod and a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. I’m good. Keep going.” 

Minho nodded and removed his own clothes. Jisung noted the contrast; Minho was much less careful with his own body than Jisung’s. The observation both amused him and sent a twinge of fondness into his heart.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go too far tonight, okay?” Minho looked at him in the dark, his feline eyes only dimly illuminated by the faint moonlight seeping in through the window. Jisung nodded. “Whatever you think is right, Minho. I’ll follow your lead.”

Minho smiled at him and nodded. “You trust me?”

The question was a bit loaded. Especially for someone like Jisung. Especially considering what happened between them just the previous day.

But for all of his grief and worry, Jisung could not imagine a reality where his answer was not yes.

Given permission, Minho ventured his hands further down, achingly slow in his mission to remove Jisung’s boxers and leave him completely exposed. Jisung’s heart shivered along with his body at the realization that he was going to give Minho everything. A sacred dance of passion and love, the most intimate of moments where people bore their bodies and souls to each other.

Jisung had thought about it before. Even before he’d met Minho, he’d thought about what it would be like to share such an experience with someone. But before Minho, he’d doubted that he would ever find such a love so intimate that he would want to do it and have his desires returned. 

After Minho, everything changed. He’d realized quickly that he was up for anything. If Minho wanted to sign marriage papers the moment he turned nineteen and elope with him, he probably would, family and college be damned.

For a brief flicker of a second, Jisung wondered what his parents would think if they found out he’d done this with a boy. With Minho. He wondered if his mother would give one of those strained, forced smiles that she offered when she didn’t understand what Jisung was saying, but didn’t want to come off as ignoring him. He wondered if his step-father would look him up and down or if he would give a silent glare of disapproval.

Jisung was so lost in these thoughts that he almost didn’t notice when Minho knocked on his forehead lightly.
“Jisungie? Anyone in there?” He was asking softly.

Snapped out of his thoughts, Jisung blinked up at him and then sheepishly smiled. “Yeah. Sorry. Just spaced out.”
Minho huffed. “Damn. I didn’t know I was so boring.”

“That’s not it,” Jisung protested. “I’m just…you know how I am.”

Minho smiled, a soft and slightly teasing thing. “I do know. So get out of that pretty head of yours.” He gently shook Jisung’s head as if to ward away all of the thoughts plaguing him and preventing him from living in the moment.

“Sorry.” He smiled. “I’m focused.”

Minho pulled Jisung’s boxers down and afforded a quiet breath out. “Jisungie.” He murmured. “You are so gorgeous. Every inch of you.” 

Jisung smiled shyly, biting his lip. “Don’t stare. It’s embarrassing.”
He was met with a roll of the eyes and a scoff. “I can’t help it. You’ve got that type of beauty that I could look at all day.”

“ Stop.” Jisung whined, earning a sound that sounded suspiciously like a giggle from Minho and a quiet apology.

Minho stripped himself bare too and Jisung found himself a hypocrite when his eyes lingered on his boyfriend’s bare body for a long time. His eyes just wouldn’t move, as if they were frozen in place. 

“And you just told me not to stare.” Minho, of course, caught Jisung in the act and forced a scarlet flush onto his ears.
“I can’t help it.” 

After some awkward touching and giggling, Minho’s mouth found itself attached to the inside of Jisung’s thigh, kissing and biting, leaving marks only the two of them would ever know about. 

The noises leaving Jisung’s mouth were almost as mortifying as the growing problem between his legs, but for some reason he didn’t feel nearly as embarrassed as he should have been. Maybe because it was Minho.  

“I’m gonna touch now, is that okay?” Minho asked, glancing up at Jisung for permission. Jisung wet his lips and nodded. A bit of apprehension still lingered in his mind, but he ignored it and decided to vest his trust in Minho. 

Jisung jolted as a warm hand wrapped around him, eliciting an embarrassing noise that was a mixture between shock and pleasure. “Oh,” he breathed as Minho moved his hand slowly up and down.

Time blurred into an abstract concept and Jisung had no idea how much time passed between when Minho’s hand first rested on his length from when the older boy was inside him. It felt like something greater than he could comprehend with his mortal mind. The level of intimate connection, of being one with the boy he loved was nothing short of spiritual.

Jisung was eighteen. He had certainly holed himself up in his room before and slid a hand down his pants. But the releases he coaxed out of himself were nothing like the one Minho brought out of him. For a moment, he was floating in a sea of soft nothingness, empty and yet completely fulfilled. 

It could have been ten minutes since Minho laid him down. It could have been three hours. Jisung had no idea and no care to find out. All he knew was the euphoria and the utter bliss he felt from being so close to the person he loved more than anything. The closest they would ever get to melding into one person. 

Jisung found that he wanted to experience it again and again, perhaps a thousand times over, and still that wouldn’t be enough. The overwhelm of the sheer volume of feelings tumbled from his chest out of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks and drawing quiet sobs from his lips.

Minho hugged him immediately, concerned. “What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered. “Are you okay? Does it hurt somewhere?”

“No,” Jisung sniffled. “No. It doesn't hurt anywhere. That’s the thing.” Through damp eyelashes, he looked up at Minho. “I have… there’s so many feelings in my chest, there’s not enough space for them all.”

Minho’s worried expression melted into a fond one. “Oh,” he sighed, relieved. “Well… I’m glad to hear that. Was it… was it okay?”

“Okay?” Jisung sighed. “Minho, that was the most intense experience I’ve ever had. I feel like I’ve just unlocked a whole new facet of life.”
His words drew a quiet laugh from Minho. “Yeah?”

Jisung nodded and Minho cupped his cheeks, placing kisses on his nose and forehead. “I love  you,” he murmured. “You were so good.
“So were you,” Jisung whispered back. “Thank you for… showing me that.”

Minho pulled back to take in Jisung in his entirety, his reverent eyes traveling from Jisung’s face to his legs. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Of course. Thank you for letting me.”

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. It was not suffocating. It was not awkward. Jisung’s mind was not a flurry of thoughts for once in his life.  They were just relaxed. Glowing from the inside out.  

“Wanna get cleaned up?” Minho suggested after a while, breaking the sacred silence. Jisung reluctantly agreed, letting the older boy out of his arms and down to get wipes.

Once the two of them were clean and void of any sticky evidence, Jisung settled into Minho’s arms, pressed against a warm chest. He sighed softly and shut his eyes.

“Goodnight, Jisungie,” Minho whispered into his hair, kissing it.
“Night, Minho hyung,” Jisung whispered back, savoring the feeling of being loved. He didn’t know how long it would last. He didn’t know the date when Minho would be done with him. When he would wake up and suddenly be alone again.

But in that moment, enveloped by the older boy’s strong arms and cocooned in his scent, Jisung decided the time he spent loving Minho would not be a time of fear. He would enjoy every single second. And if the day came that Minho decided to part ways with Jisung, he wanted to have no regrets. 

Jisung was not, in any capacity, a morning person. He hated waking up and he hated the lingering feeling of sleepiness that clung to him hours after he started his day. 

But when he opened his eyes and Minho was the first thing that came into his vision, he decided maybe mornings weren’t all bad. 

Minho was on his phone, already awake. One hand on his phone and the other wrapped around Jisung still. When he noticed Jisung’s eyes open, he glanced over and then smiled. “You’re awake.”

Jisung let out a tired whine and nodded. Minho chuckled and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good morning,” he murmured. “How are you feeling?”

Squinting, Jisung yawned. “I feel fine. Good. Tired.”
Minho smiled fondly. “I’m glad to hear that. You want some breakfast?”

The younger boy shook his head. “I don’t wanna go out.”
“We don’t have to go out.”
“You’ll cook?”
“Sure I will.”

Jisung smiled, biting his lip. “Okay.” His hair was ruffled, earning a huff, before he watched Minho sit up. He was still shirtless. Jisung’s throat felt dry all of a sudden. 

Flashbacks from the night before suddenly invaded his mind. Images of Minho hovered over him, the feeling of his hands all over Jisung’s body, his heated gaze boring into Jisung’s, the sweet sensation of his lips against skin. 

Well, he was certainly awake now. He sat up and put his hands on his face to cool the heat rising there.  “Ugh,” he groaned quietly. Jisung sat up and climbed down from the bed, throwing on a shirt and then following Minho to the kitchen. Immediately the scent of tomatoes and eggs hit him and he padded over, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist from behind and resting his chin on the older boy’s shoulder. It wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to look since Jisung was shorter than him, so he just rested his cheek against Minho’s back instead.

“Hi,” Minho greeted him, and Jisung could hear the smile in his voice. “Finally decided to join me, I see.”
“It’s been like, five minutes,” Jisung retorted, drawing a snort from his boyfriend.
“Five minutes too long.”

Once Minho was finished cooking, he plated their breakfast and they sat on the couch with it, eating and watching the new episode of a popular drama. 

“The male lead is so stupid,” Jisung complained, mouth full of egg. “Why is he acting like that? If he was just nice to her, then I’m sure she would fall in love with him. He’s good-looking.”
Minho hummed. “I know. I hope he actually starts being nice and they don’t turn this into some sort of toxic thing.”

Their discussion continued scene-by-scene. Jisung was absolutely thrilled. He liked to give commentary live, and he could never control his voice when he had to say something. Usually people got annoyed with him when he watched a movie with someone else. He didn’t understand why.
But Minho didn’t get annoyed. He responded. And he made commentary of his own.

Jisung just felt so at home with him. He never wanted to leave this dorm. Since they had set foot inside, a sheer bubble of happiness had veiled itself over him, and he knew it would pop the moment he got back to Seoul. 

“Hyung,” Jisung said as he picked at a thread on the blanket on his lap. Minho looked over at him curiously. 

“Well.” He took a breath. “I was just thinking, y’know. About last night. I, uh, enjoyed it. And it made me realize a lot of things. So… thank you.”
Minho blinked slowly at him, then smiled. “Of course, Jisungie. You don’t need to thank me for doing that with you.” 

Jisung’s cheeks flushed scarlet. “Well, y’know, thank you anyway.”
Minho breathed out a soft laugh. “You’re so impossible.”

He said that, but he had Jisung all figured out. Jisung wasn’t impossible around Minho. He was easy. So easily had he just handed himself over – heart and body. 

“So what did you realize?” Minho asked curiously, tilting his head and giving Jisung every single bit of his attention. Jisung loved it. He basked in Minho’s attention, and he’d come to need it like air.

He shifted in his spot. “Um. Well. Just… I guess I was just thinking a lot. And I was so happy that we were doing that. Because for me, it’s like… y’know, the pinnacle of intimacy. I would never do that with someone I didn’t really trust and love. And I thought I would be nervous. But I wasn’t, not really. Just a bit. So I guess what I realized is just… the depths of the feelings I’ve found myself with.”

The silence after his little spiel made him want to throw up. But then Minho’s lips curved into a soft smile and he looked…genuinely touched. “Jisung,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to cup Jisung’s face. “I’m so honored. That you feel that way. Thank you for… trusting me and loving me.”
“Of course,” Jisung whispered. “I think I always will.”

He didn’t know how true that was. They might be together for the rest of their lives, but they could break up the next day. Minho could have broken up with him right then. But he didn’t. And Jisung didn’t foresee them breaking up any time soon.

And that’s all that mattered. He’d decided yesterday that he would stop spending his time loving Minho in fear. He would love Minho fully, without reservation, and have no regrets if the day came that they separated. 

If he loved with his whole heart, it would hurt more when it ended. That’s what he would have said a year ago – hell, even a few months ago. But not anymore. Not now.

Jisung regarded his new self with satisfaction. For the first time, he loved the direction of his life, and he loved the soul he was bearing witness to it with.

Chapter Text

Waking up was never a pleasant experience for Jisung.
Some days, he wished that he hadn’t. Not long ago, he would cry before going to school and make himself crazy regretting that he opened his eyes. 

But waking up beside Minho, Jisung felt nothing but pure love and gratitude in his heart, his veins, every cell of his body. How lucky had he gotten to see such a beautiful face as soon as he opened his eyes? Instead of complete misery, a warm sensation spread through his body. 

In more ways than one, Minho had saved him. Maybe he would never know, but Jisung would always look at him with sparkles in his eyes knowing that Minho had put them there. 

Jisung’s pure happiness was slightly chipped when he looked at his phone and saw that it was Monday. He would have to go back today, back to Seoul and that house he didn’t want to spend more than five minutes in. He was excited to see Felix and the others but that anticipation paled in comparison to his desire to stay in Suwon with Minho. 

4:30 AM. Jisung’s alarm went off right then. He quickly silenced it, looking guiltily over at Minho and breathing out when the older boy didn’t wake up. After lying still for a moment and letting his heartbeat slow, he took a breath and sat up, slowly and quietly detaching himself from Minho’s arms and climbing down the loft.

It was still dark, so he fumbled around with only the light from his phone screen to find his bag and pull out clothes. He had to get on the train at five-fifteen in order to get to school on time, since he decided to stay Sunday night instead of going back like a responsible young adult. How could he resist another night with Minho? He would take the consequence of waking up early. He could get the sleep back, but his time with Minho was limited.

Putting on his uniform felt like he was stripping himself of happiness for a while. At least until he saw Minho again. Maybe it was a little concerning, but frankly, he didn’t really care. They’d only started dating a few months ago, it was just their honeymoon phase, he reasoned. At some point he would grow up and be normal about Minho and his feelings for the older boy. 

Somehow he knew that he would never truly stop being crazy about Minho, though. Since the moment they first met, those feline eyes and sculpted face wouldn’t stop plaguing his mind. Since the moment they became friends, Jisung couldn’t stop himself from falling madly in love with the kind and just perfect boy that he came to know. Those feelings had always been strong, it’s just that he allowed himself to express them now. 

At 4:50, Jisung climbed back up and put a hand on Minho’s shoulder to gently shake him. “Hyung,” he whispered. “I’ve gotta go.” 

He watched fondly as Minho’s eyes squeezed tighter shut and then slowly opened, revealing those piercing eyes glazed over with a sleepy haze. Despite just waking up, Jisung thought he was beautiful. It wasn’t really fair that he looked so good all the time. 

“What?” Minho rasped, wrapping his arms around Jisung and pulling him close. “Too early… go back to sleep.”
Jisung quietly chuckled. “I can’t. I have to go back to Seoul. It’s Monday.” 

When Jisung’s words registered after a moment, Minho sat up. He was pouting, Jisung realized with a stifled smile. “What?”
Minho quietly huffed. “Don’t leave. Stay here.”

“Are you encouraging me to skip school?” Jisung teased. Minho just nodded, his tired eyes almost to the point of being alert. Jisung’s heart twinged. 

“Well, I would love to,” he replied, tangling his hand in Minho’s hair. For a moment, he truly considered it. He could just go home later in the day and tell his mom he went to classes, she wouldn’t know. Or care, probably. 

But then Minho shook his head, trying to rid himself of the longing glinting in his dark eyes. “I want you to. But you can’t. You have to go to school.”
Jisung breathed out an incredulous laugh. “I was considering it.” 

“Don’t consider it.” Minho leaned forward and gave him a tactless kiss. “Go and get good grades so you can get into this school. Then you can be with me all the time.” 

Jisung rested his forehead against Minho’s, their lips barely a centimeter apart after they parted. “Really? You want me to come here?” He asked, his voice barely audible. The thought of it was a little scary – going to a certain university just for his boyfriend. What if they broke up?

The way Minho put a warm hand on the side of Jisung’s face instantly wiped the thought out of his brain. There was no reality where Jisung would not follow Minho to the ends of the earth.

“Would you?” The older boy asked in a murmur. “I’d like you to. Then we can see each other all the time.”
Jisung took a breath. “I’ll try.”

Warm lips pressed gently against Jisung’s cheek. “You’re smart. You can do it.” 

Minho insisted that he should go with Jisung to the station, so he rolled out of bed and pulled on shoes, then they set off into the freezing morning air. Minho held Jisung’s hand and pulled it into his pocket, nestled in the fabric. Jisung walked as close to him as possible without tripping. 

When they got to the station, Jisung saw the train about to pull up, and his heart tugged. He didn’t want to leave Suwon, didn’t want to leave Minho. Even though he could probably just visit next weekend, it would still be a whole week – or more, if he didn’t get to come that soon.

“Okay,” Minho said as he fixed Jisung’s collar. “Have a good day. And stay warm.”
Jisung nodded, staring up at him. “I will. You too.”

Their eyes met and then Jisung watched as the older boy gradually smiled. “Jisungie,” he said, putting a hand on top of the younger’s head. “You look real damn pretty in this light. Go before I give in and keep you here.”

Jisung was gently pushed toward the train, and for a moment, he really wanted to run back to Minho’s arms and stay there forever. But he knew it was probably better in the long run to go to school. He would go to their stall today and he would write something sickeningly romantic on the wall. Minho wouldn’t see it, but the thought would be put out into the universe anyway, and maybe he would feel it. 

“Alright,” Jisung whispered. “Bye, hyung.”
“Bye, Jisungie. Love you.”
“Love you too…” 

He turned around to see the conductor about to close the doors. He squeaked and made a dash to jump on just in time, earning him a scolding look from the staff. With an apologetic smile, he found a seat and then looked out the window. 

A pleasant feeling of surprise bloomed in his chest when he saw Minho still standing there, watching. Jisung waved at him and when he received a wave back, he couldn’t stop the dopey grin that made its way onto his face.

Everyone else around him looked tired and grumpy. After all, it was freezing and only five in the morning. Jisung was sure he would be scowling too if not for the string of sunshine threaded into his heart. 

Jisung wasn’t sure if Minho’s request for him to apply for Gukje was just a sleep-hazy muttering, but either way, he took it seriously. 

Studying had been hard for him before when he had absolutely no direction, no idea what he was even studying for. It seemed impossible when he had no motivation and nobody to cheer him on. He couldn’t confide in Felix about it because he didn’t know how to put it into words.  He couldn’t ask Seungmin for help because the taller boy was leagues ahead of Jisung in terms of academic prowess, and he would just highlight how stupid Jisung felt. 

But now, he had something to study for. A goal. Even if it was a little pathetic, he couldn’t quite bring himself to be embarrassed. How could he ever be embarrassed about his feelings for Minho? 

He asked Seungmin for help this time. And he was surprisingly kind about it, helping Jisung understand concepts that didn’t previously make any sense. He felt like he was finally winning, and after solidifying a goal, his junior year proceeded on double speed. 

Jisung was sure that he could get into Gukje by the time the end of his junior year came around. It wasn’t anywhere as prestigious as schools like Yonsei and so it didn’t seem so unachievable. Jisung would never dare to think he could make it into Yonsei; he wasn’t that arrogant. But Gukje, he could do. For Minho , he would do it.

The only problem was that he hadn’t afforded much thought to his actual field of study. All he was focused on was getting in. 

Two weeks into his senior year of high school, he realized this, and it sent him into a panic. Maybe he could just do what Minho was doing and get a business degree. It would surely be useful in the future, maybe it would enable him to make a lot of money.

But the more time he spent dwelling on it, the more he realized just the thought of working an office job for the rest of his life sounded exhausting. Picturing himself typing on a computer in a cubicle felt suffocating. He knew he couldn’t do it. And besides, copying what Minho did couldn’t always be the best bet. Minho’s mind worked in a more analytical way than Jisung’s, who preferred creative solutions and viewed things a bit more openly.

That was something Minho mentioned once. He said he admired how Jisung’s mind worked and he thought it was beautiful. Jisung had stuttered and pushed him away, feeling hot at the prospect of someone admiring him. He was always the one looking at other people’s backs, wishing he could be like them.
He didn’t want Minho to wish to be like him. He wanted Minho to simply be comfortable in his own self and exist in harmony beside Jisung.

When he told Minho that, the older boy had laughed brightly and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry,” he’d said. “I don’t plan on changing. We fill each other in so well. You’re the emotion to my logic. A good pair.”

Jisung found himself at a loss. Without a major in mind, how could he go to college? His mind quickly became crowded and loud, so he whipped out his phone and called the first person that he knew he could ask for help no matter what.

“Hello?” A comforting voice came through, a bit muffled. 

“Hi, Chan hyung,” Jisung said, swallowing. “Is this a bad time?”
There was a rustle on the other end, followed by Chan’s voice once again. “Oh, Jisung. Nope! I’m chilling. What’s up?”

Jisung bit his lip and sat down on his bed. “Well, I just needed a little guidance. I’m gonna apply to Gukje, but I don’t really know what to do for my major.”

There was silence on the other end, and for a moment Jisung worried that he’d accidentally hung up, or if his worry was too big for Chan to help talk him through.

“Huh?” Chan eventually replied. “What do you mean?” 

Jisung frowned. “I just don’t know what to pick. Um, I guess I just thought maybe you’d talk through it with me, or something. If that’s too much to ask, then it’s fine, just–”
“No, that’s not it,” Chan interrupted. “It’s just, I thought you were going to pick music. No?”

Oh. Right. 

Suddenly, Jisung felt a little stupid. In the midst of all of his frantic studying and perpetual yearning for Minho, he’d made no time for the thing he loved the most. Music. He couldn’t remember the last time he picked up his guitar or opened his notebook of lyrics.

“Oh,” he whispered. “You’re right. I… didn’t really think about that. I don’t know why.” 

Chan chuckled on the other end. “Yeah. Music is your thing, kiddo. Go for it. You’ll do great.”
When it came to Jisung, encouragement usually fell on deaf ears, but when it came from Chan, it made Jisung feel powerful, like it was genuine and he would do great.

“Thank you,” Jisung replied. “I was just a little in my head.”
“No problem,” Chan’s smile was audible through his voice. 

A moment of silence ensued, and Jisung picked at a thread on his sweater as he thought of something to say.
Chan beat him to it. “So… Gukje, huh? Isn’t that where Minho goes?” 

Jisung’s heart stuttered. “Uh– yeah. It is.” 

Chan let out a breath. “I hope you’re not only going for him.”

He bit his lip. “Well… mostly, I am. I wasn’t too sure about university until Minho hyung asked me to apply for Gukje so I could be with him more. I want to go. It’s nice there.” 

Chan hummed on the other end. “I know you’re probably dead set on it by now, but I just want to make sure you want to go. Love can blur our vision sometimes and distract us from what we really want.”

Jisung shook his head,  even though Chan couldn’t see it. “No, I really do want to go. I think it’s a good option for me.”
It wasn’t a lie. He liked the campus, he’d walked through it with Minho lots of times. One day he’d even attended a class and he liked the professor. Creative writing, apparently, which he wouldn’t ever take but appreciated anyway. Plus, it was in Suwon, an hour from Seoul by train. He could still see his friends easily, if they didn’t decide to study abroad. Minho wasn’t the only reason. He wasn’t that obsessed.

“Okay,” Chan responded. “As long as you’re sure, and you’re happy, then I won’t try to stop you.” 

For the first time, Jisung felt like an adult. People were respecting his decisions. The decision he had made by himself. Minho hadn’t pushed or prodded at him, imploring him to apply, ever since that morning when he’d first said it. When Jisung told him he really was going to apply, he’d sent a bunch of happy cat emojis and “I’m very happy” but that was the extent of it. Jisung was grateful. It made him feel independent. 

The realization that he was an adult and about to be released into the world to fly with his own wings was a little scary, but more than anything, he was so damn excited. 

“Thank you for calling me,” Chan said, breaking Jisung out of his thoughts. “It makes me happy that you feel like you can come to me for advice on important stuff.”

Jisung laughed quietly. “You’re my hyung. I’ll always ask you for advice.”
“Well,” Chan chuckled. “I thought maybe you’d ask Minho for solutions to all your troubles now that you guys are so serious.”  

Serious. The word echoed in Jisung’s brain, ricocheting around. He and Minho were serious. Committed. Despite the ups and downs, they were in it for the long run, and he hoped to God that they wouldn’t end up just another high school relationship.  

“No,” Jisung replied when he regained his voice. “No matter how in love I am, you’re always gonna be like my big brother. And you’re older than Minho hyung anyway, so.” 

“So I’m wiser?”
“Yeah, that.”
“I’ll tell him you said that.”
“Eh, whatever. He’ll agree.”
“You’re right. Damn him and his logic.”

That night, Jisung played his guitar until his fingers were raw and he scribbled all of his thoughts down incoherently in that beat up, overused composition notebook. All of his secrets lie on those pages, worn with time and ink over every page.

At school the next day, he skipped two periods to sit in stall seven and watch as a blank page was filled up with ink the same way the walls of the stall were, once upon a time.

Chapter Text

For someone like Jisung, time had always passed slowly. Agonizingly so. He’d dreaded the next day and hated every moment he was awake. Because he rarely had fun, the days would drag on and only get darker. 

But when he started high school, he learned just how fast time could go. One minute he was a nervous freshman making himself sick over gym class and the next, he was sitting next to one of his best friends in a cap and gown.

Felix was already crying, his lip trembling as he tried to contain himself. Hyunjin seemed bored; when he yawned he earned himself a slap on the shoulder by Seungmin. Their personalities so fully on display was just so them. Over the past few years, one of the things Jisung had learned about his friends was that they were utterly unable to hide themselves. Except sometimes Seungmin, who was maybe the only one with a stable head on his shoulders.

But Jisung… felt like he wasn’t even there. He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t even particularly sad. He wasn’t happy either, not overwhelmed with relief at finally being done with high school and released into his adult life. He was just there, observing and feeling like he wasn’t really sitting there. It felt like he was watching his friends through a camera, like he’d taken a video and was watching it on his phone instead of with his own two eyes.

He barely registered it when they called his name. Felix had to nudge him before his weird reverie lifted. Jisung stood up and walked toward the stage. He’d been in this hall last year, when he watched Changbin graduate. The year before too, for Minho. And his freshman year, for Chan. Every year he’d found himself in this graduation hall and yet this time it felt totally foreign. Maybe because he was the one with every single person’s eyes on him. The weight of their stares pressed down on his shoulders. Aside from his family — were they even here, he hadn’t noticed – nobody in the crowd knew him or anything about his aspirations. And yet, he felt the burden of the steps he was taking. Graduates were supposed to go pursue meaningful lives that made some kind of mark on history.

Jisung wasn’t sure he would. Just a few years ago, he’d thought his only mark would be another star in the sky. And now he had all of these great things going for him – his amazing friends that he’d been blessed to meet, his incredible boyfriend, and… 

He stepped onto the podium, bowing to the principal, who started giving some kind of speech he didn’t really care for. It was the same one she’d said to the other graduates who didn’t have any outstanding accolades. Jisung wasn’t part of any club, he wasn’t in the honors society, he had nothing on his record other than decent grades and now his diploma, which he accepted graciously and thanked the principal before returning to his seat.

It wouldn’t hit him for a while, probably, that he’d graduated. No more dumb classmates and worthless lessons that he would never use in the real world. No more getting anxious over gym class and having to skip in the…

Oh. For the first time that day, a wave of emotion hit him heavily in the chest. He would probably never see stall seven again. Maybe they would paint over the Sharpie and their entire story would be erased from the world. In some way, it was comforting – the memory would live only in their hearts and nobody would be able to bear witness to the way their love started. But at the same time, Jisung had the intense desire to leave the mark on the world forever so everybody that went into that stall knew he and Minho were together, so they knew a beautiful love story had been written into existence in that stall. 

Jisung was so lost in his slightly panicked thoughts that he didn’t feel the hand on his shoulder. He only registered it when he was lightly shaken and his name was murmured into his ear by a very familiar voice. 

He jerked his head up and his eyes widened when he saw Minho. Jisung’s mouth opened and closed dumbly. Surely he resembled a fish like that, and his boyfriend’s slightly amused and fond smile confirmed it.

“Hey,” Minho said, putting his hand on the side of Jisung’s face. “Mr. Grown-Up.” 

For some reason, that was the thing that made Jisung burst out in tears. He heard a quiet coo before he was taken securely into a pair of strong arms. “Don’t cry,” Minho murmured, rubbing his back. “You’ve got no reason to cry… come on, Jisungie.” 

Jisung recovered quicker than he thought he would, sniffling and looking up at Minho through wet eyes. “Hi.” He said, his voice shaky and a bit raw from crying.
“Hi,” Minho replied with a grin and a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Done crying and ready to be an adult?” 

A moment passed where he simply just stared, taking in Minho’s face and feeling the ache in his entire body. The elation and overwhelming joy from seeing his boyfriend had totally wiped out the melancholy from earlier– well, almost. There was a part of his heart that was still heavy, thinking of all he would leave behind.

But once Jisung’s name left Minho’s lips, he remembered that he wasn’t only losing things. The high school chapter of his life closed, making room for the next… he was going to turn nineteen in September, and he would be an adult. He would start going to university… university.

“Hyung,” Jisung croaked. “I got in.”

There was a moment where Jisung watched emotions flicker across Minho’s face one by one. The amusement disappeared and made way for shock, then relief, then pure and utter delight. Jisung thought the older boy would cry, but before he could see the tears fall, he was once again pulled into a hug.

When Minho hugged Jisung a few minutes prior, it was tender and comforting. This one was so tight Jisung could barely breathe. Poetic, Jisung thought to himself, that’s what his chest felt like every time he was on his way to see Minho. And now, in a way, he was going to see him – every day for God knows how long. Ideally, the rest of his life. Factually, for the next couple of years.

“I knew you could do it,” Minho whispered in his ear. “I told you you’re smart.” 

Jisung’s heart was warm. “I couldn’t have done anything without you.” 

Minho would never know just how devastatingly true that was. 

That night, Minho had insisted they had to celebrate. In the middle of eating greasy fast food (Jisung’s request), he was tapping at his phone with a smile on his face that for some reason was unsettling.

“Hyung?” Jisung narrowed his eyes. “What’s that look on your face?”
Minho looked up and tried to appear innocent. “Whatever do you mean?”

A huff left Jisung’s lips. “Bullshit. You look like you’re scheming something.”
Upon being found out, Minho’s expression returned to its former cheeky state. “You’ll see,” he said cheerfully. 

Jisung rolled his eyes and shoved his French fry into his milkshake. “Weirdo,” he muttered under his breath, earning a tilted head and a giggle from Minho. “You won’t want to call me names when you see what I’ve got for you.”

“And what could that possibly be?” Jisung prompted. Minho just shrugged and said to give him two minutes.

Whatever, Jisung thought. Minho was always up to something, that cheeky bastard. He decided to just sit and wait it out, playing into the suspense.

When Minho finally turned his phone screen around to wordlessly show Jisung, the younger boy dropped his own phone and his jaw along with it.

“What the hell!” He exclaimed, standing up and grabbing Minho’s phone. “Are you fucking with me?!”

“I am not,” Minho replied smugly. “Do you like your surprise?” 

Jisung looked up at him and then back down at the screen. A blue ticket stared back at him with the name of his favorite band plastered all over it. He looked back at Minho. “Do I like it? God, I could kiss you right now!” He was sure he looked stupid, standing up and grinning like a fool in the middle of a fast food restaurant, but he didn’t really care.

“You could? Baby, that ticket wasn’t free, I expect you to pay me back with affection and gratitude, thank you very much.” Minho raised an eyebrow and Jisung wasted no time sliding into the other side of the booth and pressing their lips together. He cupped Minho’s face and kissed him as hard as he could without it being painful or too obscene for the public. 

Minho’s hand rested on his shoulder and after a few moments he was pushed away gently. “Thank you,” the older boy said. “You can pay in installments over time. Not all at once. Go  finish your food.”

Jisung was too happy to leave Minho’s side, so he just pulled his food over the table and in front of him, sipping the milkshake while his leg bounced under the table. He didn’t think he was going to be able to see that band on tour; he was fresh out of high school after all, and therefore he had no money. And his parents would definitely say no if he asked.

“Thank you,” Jisung finally remembered to say, looking up at Minho with wide eyes. “I love you so much. Really. I’m so happy.” 

Minho huffed out a quiet, fond laugh and placed his hand on Jisung’s thigh to calm him. “Of course, Jisungie. You just graduated, I figured you deserved a little bit of fun.” 

Jisung bit his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. “Thank you… you’re going too, right? I don’t have to go alone?”
Minho snorted. “No, I wouldn’t do that to you. Yes, I bought two tickets. And it’s tonight, by the way, so once we’re done here, we can go back to your place and get ready. Sound good?”

“Sounds like the best night I’m ever going to have,” Jisung replied. He said it in a joking tone, but he was completely serious. No more high school, going to his favorite band’s concert, and with his boyfriend. It was perfect. Nothing would weigh on his mind tonight, and that’s the most he could ask for. 

After finishing up their food, they got on the bus to Jisung’s house and got ready. Minho was more than happy to let Jisung be the one doing the dressing up and getting pretty. He joked that he would play the bodyguard tonight, and Jisung would be the celebrity. 

“Let me,” Minho offered when Jisung picked up his eyeliner. The younger raised his eyebrow but relented, sitting down and handing the pencil over. “Don’t make me look too ridiculous, please.”
“As if I would do that.”

Minho straddled his lap and got close to his face as he expertly and meticulously dragged the pencil around Jisung’s eye. He looked focused.
On the contrary, Jisung was anything but focused. His heart was pounding erratically and he was sure his face was tomato red. Minho being on his lap, and this close– it was not good for his heart. One day, he would definitely explode for real. 

“You alive?” Minho asked, chuckling as he saw the wild look in Jisung’s eyes and the way he wouldn’t stop staring.
“Barely,” Jisung replied, his voice coming out raspy. “You look, um… I dunno. Good. Like that.”

Minho smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “On top of you?” He asked in a flirtatious tone that made Jisung smack him with a pillow that was laying nearby as if it knew what its purpose would be. 

“Hyung!” He exclaimed. “I–I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth, you pervert!”
His outburst earned a snicker from Minho.
“Sorry, sorry,” the older boy said with a smile that suggested he was not sorry at all. “I love making dirty jokes at you, you’re so funny.”

Jisung let out a forceful huff. “Whatever.”

Minho quietly continued his eyeliner. Jisung’s mind was down the gutter now thanks to that dumb joke. His heart was going crazy at how close they were, how Minho was leaning over him with his hands holding Jisung’s face steady. 

“Done,” Minho announced, taking the pencil off Jisung’s face. He didn’t let the younger boy go, though. Instead, he leaned down the miniscule distance and pressed their lips together, softly at first and progressively more heated.

Jisung’s heart wasn’t the only thing pounding anymore. He felt the adrenaline thrumming through every cell in his body. Minho’s hands on his skin felt like brands, the heat staining his skin forever like the ink they had once painted onto the walls. 

When they separated, Jisung was dazed for a good minute before he complained about Minho being a distraction. They got distracted quite easily, it seemed, because they spent maybe ten more minutes in Jisung’s room and kissed fifteen times in that time frame. 

Eventually, though, they did make it out of the house and onto the bus. Jisung’s nerves and excitement overtook his desire to keep making out with Minho; the years he’d waited to see his favorite band could cool down the burning in his skin. 

The venue wasn’t huge, but it still struck Jisung with a sense of awe anyway. Live music was the best kind of music in his opinion – he’d only been to a couple concerts in his life but nothing he heard on streaming platforms compared to how those songs sounded live. It filled him with an overwhelming feeling he couldn’t quite name. It tugged at his chest and consumed him when he tried to sleep at night. 

Thankfully the crowd wasn’t huge so they got into their seats just fine. They sat and chatted for a while (mostly Minho listening to Jisung go on about the songs and the achievements of this particular band) while they waited for the lights to dim. 

“You’re a really big fan, huh?” Minho smiled at him fondly. Jisung ducked his head, a little bashful.
“Yeah, I’ve been listening to them since middle school. Their music’s really great.” He replied. “I hope you like them.”

Minho tilted his head. “I do like them,” he responded, as if it were obvious. Jisung, however, was shocked and he let out a gasp. “You listen to them?” He exclaimed. “You never told me!”

“Not really,” Minho replied with a shrug. “I listened to them because you said you liked them. And I liked what I heard.” 

Jisung was actually going to lose his mind. He was going to say something, maybe ask Minho to marry him, but then the lights dimmed and he turned his attention to the stage, cheering as the opener band made their entrance.

After maybe an hour, Minho leaned over to Jisung and talked in his ear. “I’m gonna go get a drink, you want something?” 

Jisung looked up at him, frowning. He’d never had alcohol before, save for the little sip he’d taken from Hyunjin’s cup one time when they went to a Halloween party. 

“You don’t have to,” Minho said when he noticed Jisung’s hesitance. But something in Jisung felt a little braver in this light with people cheering and singing all around him. Minho looked so pretty, and Jisung’s heart felt so light, he didn’t feel like saying no. 

“No, you can get me something,” Jisung shook his head. Minho looked surprised but he smiled and patted Jisung’s head before skirting through their aisle and up into the sides of the venue. 

The band played a song and a half before Minho returned with two red cups, handing one to Jisung. “Here,” he shouted over the music. “It’s just beer.” 

It was kind of bitter when Jisung let the liquid slide down his throat, but it gave him a warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach that he liked, so he kept drinking. He didn’t know what it would be like to get tipsy but he did know that Minho would take care of him all the way. 

Jisung had never really cared to try alcohol, even in high school when people were getting it and drinking for the thrill of breaking the law. But after he’d downed half the cup, the peace and utter joy he was feeling was exacerbated. For a while, he had no thoughts pressing on his mind. There were no voices in his ear telling him he wasn’t good enough. He was just in a little bubble with the man he loved and hundreds of other people who were there for the exact same reason as him. Plus, some great background music for his euphoria. 

Minho leaned over and put a hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “You okay?” He asked, raising his voice so he was audible over the music. Jisung nodded, grinning like a fool. He couldn’t help but sway a bit and lean into Minho’s arms.

“Yesss,” he hiccupped. “‘M so happy.” 

Minho’s arms wrapped around him, and Jisung rested the side of his face against the older man’s chest so he could still watch the stage. He was a little sleepy, the music blurring around him. It was less like real life and more like a dream. Maybe that’s all this was – he’d fallen asleep in class during his freshman year and dreamed up a reality where he had a perfect boyfriend and got to see his favorite band. He would wake up in English class and get scolded for not paying attention

The bass from the stage pulsated through his veins and thrummed in his chest, in time with the beat of his heart. Pure bliss was not something Jisung was usually able to encounter but how could he feel anything but that, when he was in the arms of the most incredible man in the world and watching his favorite band perform the songs that he listened to every day? 

When the music faded and the band bid everyone  goodnight, Jisung was vaguely aware of Minho leading him out of the venue by the hand. He giggled, finding it amusing in his inebriation how Minho was guiding and protecting him like this. It was cute that the sharp-eyed boy he’d been afraid of a few years ago was now treating him so carefully and lovingly. 

“Hyung,” he slurred, his voice coming out fuzzy. He couldn’t quite control his tongue. “Love you… thanks for…everything, y’know…” He paused to let out a hiccup. “You’re…so amazing.”

Minho glanced at him and smiled, small and slightly smug. “Yeah, sure. Of course. I love you, Jisungie. Come on, let’s get you home, hm?” 

Jisung couldn’t remember what happened after that. He vaguely recalled being on a bus, then hearing his mother’s voice and Minho rushing him up a flight of stairs. But the moment his body hit the mattress, he was out like a light. 

Some annoying universal force woke Jisung up in the morning, and when he opened his eyes all he could feel was the headache behind them. He groaned and buried his face in his pillow, wriggling back into the strong arms that held him and the chest that kept him in one place. 

“Hyung? Are you awake?” He whined, twisting so he could face the sleeping man next to him. Minho’s eyes opened blearily just then. “Wha?” He grumbled, rubbing at them. “What’s wrong?”

Jisung bit his lips to hide a sleepy smile. “Sorry. My head really hurts.” 

Minho blinked slowly at him, then yawned. “Well… you drank last night, so… but I guess you have a low tolerance, because you only had one cup.” 

For some reason, it was a little embarrassing, but Jisung just shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so… can you let go of me so I can take some medicine though?” 

Minho didn’t let go, but he did get up with the younger boy and show him how to get rid of a hangover. They spent the day in bed, watching movies and cuddling and kissing each other silly. 

For another day, Jisung felt like he was in heaven. The previous night and this day had been absolutely perfect.

Before, he’d loathed his own life and wished for it to be over so he could stop being so lonely all the time. But once he’d met this gorgeous man, it had all turned upside down and he was thrust into a whole new life. One filled with laughter and fuzzy feelings in his chest. The void in his heart had been filled carefully by two gentle hands and his soul had been bared by a pair of dark eyes. 

It was scary, but Jisung knew he wouldn’t have wished for his life to go any other way. He’d grown to be excited about waking up. 

If this is what life really was, then he thought he would be happy to live it all the way until the end.

Chapter Text

Gukje seemed much more intimidating when Jisung was the one attending its lessons. 

When he had only been visiting, he’d thought the campus was small. Cute.
That was before he had to navigate his way around looking for his lecture halls. Not to mention the dorms. He’d gotten a room on the third floor, and it was all the way at the end of the hallway ducked around a corner. An embarrassing amount of people had been subject to his panic when he thought the dorm room simply didn’t exist.

The relief when he finally found the room was palpable, and he let out a quiet sigh as he opened the door tentatively. Well, there was no rowdy yelling happening, so his roommate couldn’t be that bad. Maybe. Hopefully.

Venturing in further, he made his way to the empty room. It was small – smaller than Minho’s, and completely undecorated. Just white and soulless. Jisung would fix that up very fast. 

A voice behind him made him nearly jump out of his skin. “Um… hello?”

Whipping around, Jisung saw a guy with jet-black hair, big eyes, and a small smile. He looked like the type of person to enjoy his classes.

“Oh. Sorry, you scared me a second there.” Jisung stood up. “I’m Jisung. I guess we’re roommates…?” 

“Taehyun,” the other student nodded, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you. Sorry for the fright.”
Jisung took his hand and shook it. Taehyun had the presence of somebody shorter, but he was surprisingly tall. 

“I hope you don’t plan on having parties here,” Taehyun continued. “Because I will complain to the school if you do. I like to go to bed at normal times.” 

Jisung let out a surprised laugh. The bluntness caught him off guard, but he found that didn't really mind. “No,” he replied. “I don’t plan on that. I’m not really a party person.” 

Taehyun nodded, relieved. They exchanged small talk for a few more moments until Jisung was left alone to unpack. He took a breath and looked around at his new dorm. It finally began to sink in that he was beginning a new life. Away from Seoul, away from his family. Closer to Minho. 

It made him smile. He would be able to see Minho whenever he wanted now. No more waiting for a weekend that he could spare to take the train to Suwon. 

He hadn’t seen Minho yet, so he decided to text. 

Jisung
hyung~ you out of your classes yet? i just got to my dorm 

While he waited for the response, he started unpacking some of his things. Manga went on the small shelf provided for him, his laptop placed on the desk and little trinkets dotted here and there. By the time he was satisfied, he’d gotten a reply. Five minutes ago, actually.

Minho
Yes, I’m done. Send me your dorm number 

Jisung smiled to himself. He usually hated when people talked to him like that– so blunt and matter-of-fact, seemingly emotionless. But when Minho did it, he just found it endearing. 

Jisung
#318! are you coming over 

Minho
Do you want me to?

Jisung
yes!

Minho
Okay, then I’m on my way. Did you meet your roommate?

Jisung
yes, he’s nice, kind of reminds me of you a bit

Minho
Oh yeah? Well don’t go falling in love with him too

Jisung
as if

Jisung giggled to himself as he put his phone away and waited for Minho to arrive at his door. The older man had a jealous streak since before they were even dating and while maybe some people would be put off by that, Jisung loved it. He loved feeling like he was wanted, like he was Minho’s. It was an embarrassing part of himself to discover, truthfully, but nobody had to know about it except him and maybe Minho someday.

As promised, a few minutes later, a knock resounded throughout the dorm. Jisung bolted toward the door, barely noticing Taehyun’s bewildered expression, and opened it. A grin was already on his face by the time he saw Minho. 

“Hi,” he breathed. Minho tilted his head and an infuriating little smirk appeared on his face. 

“Hey,” he replied. “Excited to see me or something?”

Jisung huffed at him. “Obviously. Come inside.” He tugged Minho’s sleeve to bring the older man inside the dorm. He turned to look at Taehyun, who was watching with a quizzical look on his face.

“Um, Taehyun, this is Minho. And Minho, this is my roommate Taehyun.” He gestured between them awkwardly. He wasn’t sure if it was fine to introduce Minho as his boyfriend. He’d only just met Taehyun, he had no way of knowing if the taller guy was possibly homophobic or not. 

“Hi,” Minho greeted Taehyun. And then he took Jisung’s worries into his own hands: “I’m Jisung’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” 

Jisung looked up at him with a panicked expression, trying to use telepathy to convey why did you say that?! as best as he could. 

All of his worries proved to be useless though, because Taehyun just smiled a bit. “Huh. For some reason, I’m not surprised. Anyway… nice to meet you too, Minho. I’ll leave you guys alone.” 

He waved and then he walked toward his own room, allowing Minho and Jisung to have their time together. When he was almost inside, he turned his head around to look at them. “I better not hear any indecent noises, by the way.”

Jisung’s face immediately prickled and got hot. “We– we weren’t going to do that!” He exclaimed, mortified as Taehyun cackled and disappeared behind the door of his room.

Minho chuckled and wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. “We weren’t?” He asked, exaggerating a disappointed expression. Jisung smacked his hand, squeaking with embarrassment. “No! It’s my first day!” 

Minho shook his head, letting out a deep sigh as if Jisung had just told him he couldn’t have food. “A shame,” he drawled. “I had grand plans for us.”

Jisung would not let his mind go down the gutter so quickly. He moved away from Minho with a half-hearted glare. “You– you’re so… ugh,” he complained. 

Stupid Minho and his stupid pretty face and his stupid words. Despite Jisung’s valiant efforts to be decent, he couldn’t get those words out of his mind. He couldn’t tell if Minho was just teasing or if he had really planned to come to Jisung’s dorm and do that. The thought made Jisung’s skin burn; on one hand, it was embarrassing, and on the other, he wished Minho would just ask if he wanted to do that. Jisung hadn’t exactly resisted the first time.

In Jisung’s room, Minho looked around and smiled. “Looks just like mine, except a little smaller. Huh.” He inspected Jisung’s unfinished decorations. “I didn’t know you read Nana,” he pointed out the manga with a nod. Jisung’s eyes widened. “Really? I didn’t tell you?” He asked, bewildered, earning an amused head shake from Minho.

“Oh,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Well, yeah. I love it.” 

Minho nodded and took out a volume and flipped through it mindlessly. “I read a bit of it once in my sophomore year. Of high school, I mean. It was pretty good… maybe I’ll read it again.”

Jisung’s heart did a little flip. He’d never had anyone to talk about the series with, and Minho of all people would be the best to talk about things he loved with. He couldn’t believe he’d ever forgotten to mention it. 

“You can borrow my books if you want,” he offered shyly. Minho glanced over at him.
“Really? You aren’t one of those guys who’s like, really obsessive about keeping books in mint condition, are you?” 

Jisung snorted and shook his head. “No, I’m not responsible enough for that. See, there’s plenty of wear and tear on them.” 

After more than enough talk about Nana, Jisung and Minho left the dorm and walked around campus. They came across the campus cafe, which honestly wasn’t very good, but sometimes it was more about the company than the drinks or the food. 

“Are you nervous?” Minho asked him over a sip of mediocre coffee. “For classes?”

Jisung hummed as he chewed his bite of croissant that was a bit too flaky for his liking. “Yeah,” he replied when he swallowed. “I mean, a little bit. Not nearly as much as I thought I would be, y’know?” 

Minho smiled. “That’s great. I’m glad.” He reached across the table, placing his hand palm-up. Jisung took it with a little quirk of his lips. Their fingers twined together and Jisung really didn’t care if anyone saw them. 

“I’m proud of you,” Minho murmured, voice soft. Jisung blinked at him, surprised. Out of all the things he expected, that wasn’t anywhere near the top three.

“...Huh?” He frowned after a moment. “Why?” 

Minho let out a quiet laugh. “Because. When I met you, you were so jumpy and wary of everything. But now… I don’t know. You’re so much more grown up now.”

Jisung actually felt something hot behind his eyes. The words touched him somewhere very deep inside, somewhere that craved attention but had never been indulged. “Oh,” he whispered. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he diverted the seriousness with a joke. “Well, I’d hope I’m more grown-up, it’s been three years…” 

Three years. He stared at Minho for a moment, the realization hitting him dizzyingly hard. He’d known this man for three years, loved him for two, dated him for one. A perfect countdown. He didn’t want the time to end, though. It would keep going up. He hoped that someday those numbers would be in the double digits. Picturing a future without Minho made his heart hurt. Even if they were young, and maybe he was naive, he didn’t want to separate. He wanted to be part of that small percentage of people whose high school relationships worked out. It had to happen. He wouldn’t let them break apart. 

 “Don’t cry,” Minho chuckled, reaching forward with his free hand to wipe away the tears. His hand was heated by the cup of coffee he’d been holding.  Jisung wished he could melt under the warmth. 

“I’m not crying,” Jisung mumbled. “Just emotional. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

“Sorry,” Minho apologized, but Jisung could tell he wasn’t sorry at all. His voice had that tone to it, where his smile was audible. Even with his eyes closed, he knew. 

“Liar.” Jisung huffed, but he opened his eyes. “Don’t you ever leave me after saying stuff like that.” 

Minho chuckled. “You’re funny,” he said. “If you think I plan on leaving you. Really hilarious.” 

The older man had such a strange way of comforting people, but somehow, it worked even better than the “I won’t leave you, I promise” he would’ve received if it were anyone else. Thank God he had Minho. His weird, peculiar boy. That personality was captivating to Jisung and he couldn’t believe that it was completely his to love. Forever, hopefully. 

“Weirdo,” he muttered under his breath, earning him a flick on the wrist. 

Jisung started classes the next day, delighted when Minho surprised him with a coffee and accompanied him on the journey. At the door, Minho pressed a soft kiss to Jisung’s lips. The action itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but what surprised Jisung was that they were in public. People were walking past them as it happened.

And to Jisung’s surprise, nobody seemed to care. No one said anything to them. 

Maybe university wasn’t so scary after all. 

He slid into the lecture hall quietly, taking a seat towards the back. Glancing around, he tried to get a feel for his classmates. They all seemed to be minding their own business, except for a group of obnoxious-looking guys he made a mental note to avoid. He didn’t want his freshman year of university to be a repeat of his high school freshman year; becoming enemies with a popular guy and almost getting into a fight. Hyunjin had turned out to not be that bad, but that couldn’t be the case every time.

His eyes fell on a girl sitting by herself a few feet away from him. She was hunched over a paper, scribbling something madly as if she had a thought she couldn’t wait to write down, and her mind was moving faster than her hand. Jisung knew the feeling, so he decided to wait to talk to her until her pen slowed.

When it did, he scooted over to her nervously. “Hi,” he said, smiling and hoping he looked polite instead of anxious. “I’m Jisung.” 

He got a sense of deja vu. Introducing himself to a girl sitting next to him in his class… huh. 

Instead of a nasty attitude in return, he received a small smile. “Oh, hi,” the girl replied. “I’m Tzuyu…” 

Jisung tilted his head at the foreign name, he’d never met anyone called that before. “That’s a cool name,” he said. He desperately hoped he didn’t come off as trying to flirt. “Nice to meet you.”
Tzuyu’s smile stayed, but it wasn’t big. She seemed shy. “Thank you,” she murmured. 

Jisung couldn’t think of how to continue the conversation after that. The silence wasn’t suffocating, but it was still awkward. He decided not to try and force it, just resigned himself to taking out his notebook and laptop. 

Thankfully, Tzuyu ended up warming up to him fairly quickly. He learned she was a year older than her, but she implored him to not call her noona. Still nervous about coming off wrong, Jisung nervously clarified to her that he was not interested in girls. She laughed and told him that it wasn’t exactly hard to tell. He told her about Minho and she seemed happy for him. And thus, he made his first friend in university.

Tzuyu was shy, but she had quite a few friends that she introduced him to. Mostly upperclassmen girls, but they were more than happy to absorb him into their group. He met Minho’s friends too, a handful of weird yet charming guys that Jisung had fun talking to. It warmed his heart how Minho introduced him each time he met someone new. “This is my boyfriend Jisung.” 

For the first time in his life, he felt solid and independent. Away from the house that made him feel unstable, away from the city that trapped him in its gray walls, away from the people that made his life hell when he was younger. Here in Suwon, there was only a school he pretended to hate but actually didn’t mind, his new friends, and his incredible boyfriend. 

Of course, he still remembered his roots. He kept in contact with Felix and the others. Chan and Changbin were almost done with university and Jisung kept learning a lot from them. The contact wasn’t frequent (except with Felix, who called Jisung any time anything happened) but it still soothed his heart anyway. It was nice to have people who cared about him even if they weren’t in his immediate vicinity.

As he moved through university, Jisung felt like he was supposed to. An adult. Himself. Everyone had told him university would be a transformative time. He hadn’t believed them, thinking it would just be stress and all-nighters and too much ramen. It was all of that, but it was more too. Establishing himself in the world, as a person. Learning about himself. Jisung loved it. He could probably do without the frequent all-nighters, though. 

“Jisungie,” Minho murmured in his ear as they laid together under the blankets. Jisung’s mind was empty; he’d been stressed about a project, gone over to Minho’s, and gotten that fixed right away.

“Mm?” He hummed as he rolled over to look into Minho’s pretty eyes. A hand rested on his cheek and he sighed softly. 

“You’re really different,” Minho said quietly, stroking Jisung’s cheek. His touch was so gentle, if Jisung had any strength in his body, it would be melting away. “In a good way. You’re so cool these days.” 

Jisung huffed out a laugh. “I wasn’t cool before?”
“No, not really.”
“So you decided to date a loser?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Weird.”
“I know.” 

Smiling, Jisung put his hand on top of Minho’s, intertwining their fingers. “I like weird.”
Minho leaned in and kissed him, so soft it made him want to cry. 

“I know you do.”

Chapter Text

University wasn’t exactly a blur, but it slipped through Jisung’s fingers faster than he would have liked. 

He didn’t see Minho every day now that the older man had graduated. He lived with Chan for a while, until he was hired into an entry-level position at a nice company. Despite being lowest in the ranks, he was still paid well. It was because of the company, but Jisung liked to brag that it was because they knew he was so smart, they didn’t want to let him leave.

Once he’d saved up enough, he’d gotten an apartment and moved in. Gone back to Seoul and took his cats from his parents’ house. Jisung asked him if anything happened when he went home, and Minho said his parents had just stared at him. 

Jisung was beyond happy for him. Minho said Jisung seemed happier now, but Jisung thought the same of Minho. Away from his parents. More confident, more outspoken. Not that he suddenly turned into a social butterfly or started wearing bright clothing. He was still the same Minho, just without the shackles of a home full of hostility.

And now, after Jisung’s afternoon classes, they were sitting at a tiny Chinese restaurant they’d found tucked between buildings. Even under the dim lighting of the family-owned establishment, Jisung could see that he looked more relaxed. 

“These are so good,” Minho mumbled around a mouthful of dumpling. “Seriously life-changing every time we come here.” 

“Agreed,” Jisung nodded, swallowing his own and bringing his cup of coke to his mouth. “I don’t know what they do to these, but I could eat them every day, I think.” 

Minho hummed, staring at the dumpling intently. He inspected it from every angle, and then bit half of it off and stared at the inside. Soup broth oozed out of the dough and from between the stuffings. His gaze was so calculating, so intense, and Jisung found it very amusing.

“What did that dumpling do to you?” He asked, fighting laughter.
Minho shook his head. “Nothing… I just want to figure out how to make them myself.”

Jisung tilted his head curiously. “Why?” Personally, he thought even if they had the recipe, they would never be able to recreate the flavor of this delicacy. Something about food cooked by elderly people was just superior no matter what.

“Well,” Minho coughed. “I mean, you like them so much, I figured… maybe I could just make them for you someday. Instead of coming all the way out here.”

Silence. Jisung stared at him, his lips slightly parted and a dumpling clasped between his chopsticks and forgotten. After a long moment where heat tingled up his spine and itched at his cheeks, he stuttered out an unintelligent reply. “Oh– um. Yeah.”

Jisung couldn’t think of how it could get better than this.

“If you could do it, I think I might have to marry you,” he joked. Half-joked. Kind of. He didn’t know. They were too young to be thinking about that. Maybe. Were they? 

Minho responded with a quiet laugh. “Oh, really? I guess I should hurry up, then.” 

God, Jisung is done for. He’s always known, since the very beginning, that he was fucked. But moments like this really blared the fact in his face. How could he ever do without this man? He was in too deep now. 

Maybe he could brainwash Minho into loving him forever. These feelings were so complex, he had no idea how to say them, but maybe he could someday try to confess his truth in sloping letters, beautiful and a little messy like them. 

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe you should.” 

That Saturday, Jisung graduated. Just like that, another chapter was over. 

When he finished high school, he only cried when he thought of what he left behind. But this time, he was a mess. Leaving high school, he still had another steady step ahead of him. High school, then university. But now, his future was uncertain. He would have to search for a job, find a place to live, find his own place in society as an adult. 

Most of all, he would miss his friends. Tzuyu, Dahyun, Ryujin, Taehyun and everybody he’d ever met. They were his best friends (except Minho and Felix) and he hated the fact that he wouldn’t be able to meet up with them whenever he wanted to now. 

Ryujin wanted to pursue an acting career in America, Taehyun wanted to keep studying in Japan. Jisung hugged them extra tight at graduation. 

“Stop crying,” Ryujin scolded him with a smile. “You’re gonna see us again.” 

“When?” Jisung sniffled. “You don’t know that! You want to go all the way to California! It’s so far away.”
She ruffled his hair and disconnected their arms. “I’m gonna come back and visit, idiot. Watch, I’m gonna make bank from being the best actress they have and I’ll be able to come back to Korea whenever I want.” 

“You better,” Jisung huffed as he wiped his face. “And you better keep in touch with all of us too. Don’t abandon your day one’s after your first big Hollywood paycheck.” 

Ryujin snorted and smacked his shoulder. “Yeah, right. As if I would do that. Anyway, go.” She pushed him back, earning an offended scoff from Jisung before he stumbled right into a pair of arms. 

“Oh, sor–” he started to say before he looked up and saw a familiar pair of sharp eyes looking back at him fondly. 

“Minho!” He exclaimed, whipping around and practically jumping on the older man. Of course, Minho caught him. He always did. He held Jisung steadily in his arms and twirled him around before setting him down.

“Congratulations,” Minho murmured before pressing a kiss to Jisung’s lips. The younger man happily obliged, wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck. He heard a faint retching sound from nearby, probably Ryujin, but he ignored her. 

Minho’s hands came to rest on Jisung’s waist, gently pulling them apart after a few moments. Jisung gazed at him, his round eyes surely betraying how his heart trembled. 

“I got you something,” Minho smiled, speaking softly. Jisung blinked, his lovesick reverie momentarily broken. “What?”

Minho led Jisung to the seat he was previously sitting at. There sat a paper bag on its side. Jisung watched as his boyfriend picked it up. “Close your eyes,” he was instructed. So he did. 

A moment later, something thick and slightly damp was placed in his hands. “You can open them,” Minho said.
When Jisung opened his eyes, he was greeted with an overwhelming amount of red. In his hands rested a bouquet of roses, the exact shade of maroon that he loved. 

“What…” he blinked at them and let out a breath. “Oh, Minho. You didn’t need to…” 

Minho chuckled like Jisung had made a joke. “Of course I did. It’s your graduation. You deserve a few flowers.” He leaned in and placed small yet strong hands on Jisung’s shoulders and kissed the corner of his mouth. 

Jisung’s lip trembled as he fought to not cry again. “This is…really kind of you.” He looked up with slightly damp eyes and Minho gave him a small smile.

“I have something else,” the older man said, quieter this time. Like he was nervous about whatever he was about to hand over. 

“Okay,” Jisung whispered, mystified. 

Minho took one of Jisung’s hands and maneuvered it so it rested palm-up in the air. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a balled fist. He placed his fist over Jisung’s open hand and took a breath before slowly releasing his fist and letting something drop into the waiting palm.

Something silver and shiny. Minho withdrew his nervous hand and Jisung stared at his hand.

A key. 

He blinked, confused. Looking up at Minho quizzically, he asked, “what is this for?” Minho offered him a small smile. “It’s a copy of my key.”

For another moment, Jisung was clueless. What could he possibly do with a copy of Minho’s key? It’s not like he had any reason to get into….

Oh.

He jerked his head up, staring up at the older man with wide eyes. “Wait– are you…?” His hands shook slightly. The implication was overwhelming; that maybe Minho wanted to spend so much time with Jisung that he would be okay with sharing his space with him. 

“Yeah,” Minho wet his lips nervously. “I mean, if you want to.” 

Jisung scoffed, feeling something warm sting behind his eyes. “Are you kidding? Of course I want to. But are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” Minho confirmed. “I want to take this step with you… and  you need somewhere to stay anyway, right?” He smiled and placed his warm hand on Jisung’s cheek, swiping his thumb underneath Jisung’s eye to dry the tears.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I was gonna go back to live with my parents… but I’d rather be with you.” 

Minho made quick work of getting Jisung settled. He was moved from his dorm the day after graduation, and Minho helped load everything into his car. Jisung thankfully didn’t have much, so it was an easy move.

“Hey, mind the manga,” Jisung complained. “It has to be stacked like this, not on the side. They’ll bend.” He packed all of his books in a small box, Minho’s amused gaze lingering on him. They both crouched over the box as Jisung fixed the way the books rested. 

“There.” He patted the cover of the one resting on top. “Safe and sound.” He took the roll of tape from Minho and sealed up the box. 

“You told me you weren’t a freak about the condition of your books,” Minho teased as he picked up the box.
“I’m not,” Jisung huffed. “It’s just basic respect for the work to not place them vertically!”

Minho gave him a look that said yeah, sure and brought the box out of Jisung’s room, probably going down to his car.
Jisung looked around his empty room, thinking of all the time he’d spent in it. Studying for six hours at a time, not getting a wink of sleep. Sitting with his friends on his bed and talking deep into the night. Moments with Minho that set his skin and soul on fire. Crying over his future or a bad grade. Watching dumb shows on his laptop.

Another time of his life etched itself onto his heart. 

Jisung had only been to Minho’s new apartment once, briefly, but as they pulled into the tenant parking lot, it seemed completely brand new. They hauled Jisung’s things up in one go, huffing and puffing as they dragged everything up the stairs. 

“Unlock it,” Minho told him, gesturing toward his – their door. His hands were full with a box. Jisung wet his lips, slightly nervous for some reason. He fished the key Minho had given him out of his pocket, clumsily sliding it into the keyhole.

The lock made a noise when Jisung turned it to the right. He gingerly pushed the door open and stepped back, letting Minho, who was carrying more, go first. 

His stuff was placed on the floor in the living room, and they sat on the floor with a sigh. “I’m so tired,” Jisung complained.
Minho chuckled and pulled Jisung closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s a good thing you don’t have that much stuff though, huh?” 

“I guess so.” Jisung rested his head on Minho’s shoulder, taking in the view he had of the apartment. It wasn’t large or fancy by any means but it felt right for the two of them. 

A flash of orange caught in the corner of Jisung’s eye as something ran by. He turned his head and saw a cat that looked very familiar.

“Soonie!?” He exclaimed, lifting his head off of Minho’s shoulder and sitting up straight.
Minho smiled. “Yeah, that one’s Soonie. Pet him, he’s friendly.” 

Jisung cooed at the cat and reached out towards the cat. Soonie sniffed his hand and then pushed his head up against it, and Jisung almost melted. The baby talk he was letting slip out of his mouth wasn’t even intentional, just a natural instinct upon seeing such a creature. 

“He’s so sweet,” Jisung whined. “I want him.” 

Minho smiled. “Well, you live with him now, y’know. He’s your cat too.” 

Oh. Right. Jisung’s ears felt warm as he remembered. He was getting to live with Minho and his two cats.  Years ago, when he was sixteen and meeting Minho for the first time, he never would have guessed this would happen. 

“I thought you were going to be a story I told in the nursing home,” Jisung blurted out. He watched the smile mostly fade from Minho’s face, replaced by a look of confusion.

“...what the hell does that mean?” The older man asked, laughing a bit. 

Jisung shifted his feet. “Well, when I met you for the first time, I thought you were a weirdo… and your eyes, um, they’re really pretty. And striking. So I kept thinking about you but I thought we’d never cross paths again, and I’d just be one of those old guys that’s off his rocker and talking about some boy he saw in high school. Y’know.” 

Minho stared at him for a second before bursting out into a fit of laughter. “W-what?” He forced out once he’d begun to calm down. “What kind of assumption is that?”

Red-hot embarrassment made Jisung whine in protest. “Stop laughing at me! I was sixteen!”

“Alright, alright,” Minho finally managed to stop laughing, but he was still smiling. “Sorry, darling. Come on, let’s go find Doongie.” He took Jisung’s hand and led him to another area of the apartment.

Jisung couldn’t respond. When the word darling left Minho’s mouth, his mind had been destroyed. How was he supposed to respond to that? How was he supposed to be normal after that?

Luckily, he did end up recovering from being struck in the heart, and they began putting Jisung’s belongings away. Minho let him have a whole shelf for his manga and notebooks. There was only one dresser for clothes, so they split it – Minho’s drawers on top and Jisung’s on the bottom. It was a tight fit, but they could figure it out later.

After all the unpacking, they were both tired, and they flopped down on Minho’s bed with a sigh. 

Minho rolled over to look at Jisung. “You live here now.” 

Jisung looked over, smiling. “Yeah, I do.”

With a quiet laugh, Minho pulled Jisung in close, holding him from behind. Jisung’s heart was beating way too fast. 

“Now when I get home I can say, ‘baby, I’m home’ and I’ll get to see your dumb, cute, little face smile at me,” Minho sighed softly, his voice sounding wistful as if this was a scenario he’d thought about before. Meanwhile, Jisung’s heart was about to leap out of his throat. He couldn’t muster up a response to that other than “mhm.” 

The two of them laid there for a long time, just talking and loving each other.  Jisung fell asleep at some point, gentle drowsiness forcing his eyes shut and soft sleep pulling him under. The whole time, a pair of strong arms held him safe. 

When Jisung woke up, it was because of the scent of meat tickling his nose. 

Groggily, he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. A quick glance around told him Minho wasn’t in their room anymore.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed and planting them on the ground, he yawned and made his way out of the bedroom and into the main room. 

“Hyung,” Jisung mumbled, dragging his feet as he approached the older man from behind. He wrapped his arms around Minho’s waist and rested his head on his solid back.

“Hey,” Minho chuckled. “Finally awake, huh? I’m making dinner for us.”
Jisung hummed, peeking over Minho’s shoulder to look at the pan. Rice, vegetables, meat. His stomach growled. “Looks good… I’m so hungry, hurry up.” 

Minho thankfully did hurry up and soon, a plate of steaming fried rice sat in front of him, and he blew on it harshly to cool it down sooner. “Be patient, for God’s sake,” Minho scolded him when he shoveled a bite in his mouth and recoiled in pain at the burning sensation. 

After dinner, they settled down with Minho’s laptop on the couch and watched a few episodes of a drama; it was alright, but not good enough to hold Jisung’s attention, and he soon got bored.

He let his eyes wander around the apartment, and his eyes fell on a pair of long curtains. The small part between them allowed Jisung to see what looked like a handle of some sort. Was that…

“Hyung!” He gasped. Minho jerked his head up, probably thinking something was wrong, but Jisung was pointing at the curtains. “Is that a balcony?” 

Minho followed where his finger was pointing, then looked back at his face. “Oh. Yeah, there’s a balcony. I didn’t tell you?” 

“No!” Jisung freed himself from Minho’s arms and stood up, walking over and opening the door. 

The view was actually pretty. The road in front of the apartment was quiet. A few miles away, but close enough to see, was the glittering lights of the city. 

“Wow,” Jisung breathed. “It’s so pretty.”
Minho came up behind him, slinging an arm over Jisung’s shoulders. “You can see it whenever you want now,” he said.
“I’m going to be out here every night.” Jisung declared, earning a laugh from Minho. 

The breeze rustled his hair slightly, and it felt so deliciously good that he felt he wanted to stay out here forever.

“I wanna stay out here,” Jisung told Minho, who kissed his temple. “I haven’t put any chairs out yet, but we can stay out here as long as you want.”

We. The word made Jisung’s heart feel warm. Minho wouldn’t let Jisung stay out alone. 

“Let’s bring a mattress out here,” Jisung said suddenly. “We can sit and be warm.”
Minho looked at him, blinked, and then laughed. “You are so strange… but whatever you want, darling.” 

The two of them hauled the mattress off of the bed and onto the balcony. It barely fit. They spread a blanket out and sat down, huddling close. It wasn’t cold, but just chilly enough to act as an excuse to get in each other’s space. 

“Maybe I should get my guitar,” Jisung commented, feeling the need to fill the crisp nighttime silence with music.
Minho smiled. “Please do!”
Jisung stifled a giggle. Minho always tried to come off so reserved and nonchalant, but in reality he was just… cute. 

“Right away, sir,” Jisung said as he stood up and hurried to their room. He grabbed his guitar from where it was leaning against the wall and brought it outside. 

He sat criss-cross with the blanket over his legs and the guitar in his lap. Humming, he strummed a random melody until he got an idea of what song he wanted to sing. 

The two of them sat there underneath the stars, on their mattress, the soothing sound of Jisung’s voice and his instrument floating through the air. It was just peace. Jisung was, finally, happy, and he was glad it was with Minho.

Love was ruined for him forever, unless it was with Minho.

Chapter Text

Nothing could have prepared Jisung for what it really was like to share a living space with his boyfriend. 

It was one thing when he got to visit Minho’s dorm after classes, but it was another thing entirely to see Minho come home from work and immediately be taken into his arms. To sit on the counter every night while Minho cooked, to retire to the bedroom together and exist in the same space. 

They sometimes got into little spats about one thing or the other; whose job it was to put away the dishes that day or why the trash hadn’t been taken out yet. But overall, Jisung felt more at peace these days than he ever had. All of the suffering he’d faced in the past suddenly seemed worth it, like the thorny road he’d walked led him right to Minho. 

“Jisung?” Minho called as he padded into the bedroom. He laid right on top of Jisung, who let out a soft oof noise and put his phone down. “What?

Minho kissed his neck and wrapped his arms around Jisung’s chest. “I was wondering… if maybe you would start putting your music out on streaming stuff. Y’know. It’s really good… I think you could make some money from it.” 

Jisung paused. He’d thought about it before, of course, but he wasn’t quite brave enough. If nobody streamed his music it would be a blow to his confidence, which was already fragile enough.
“I… don’t know,” he replied hesitantly. “I’m kinda nervous to do that.”

Minho’s arms around him tightened. “You should,” he murmured. “You work so hard on your songs, they deserve recognition from more than just me.”

Just me, he said. Jisung bit back a scoff. Minho didn’t know how valuable his words of encouragement and praise were. Once Minho’s eyes got misty after listening to one of Jisung’s songs and the younger was still riding that high. 

“Maybe,” he mumbled. “I’ll think about it.” 

That seemed good enough for Minho, who kissed the side of Jisung’s cheek and rolled them over so Jisung laid on top. 

Jisung thought Minho was so pretty, with his dark hair fanned out over the sheets and sleepy eyes. The black around his eyes was mostly faded and with a smile, Jisung brought his hand up to rub the ink off. “Your eyeliner’s smudged,” he said with an innocent smile. Minho huffed and swatted his shoulder gently.

“Brat,” Minho grumbled, earning a giggle from Jisung as the younger man kept smudging and wiping off the eyeliner. 

“You look so good without anything on your face,” Jisung sighed, unable to stop himself from sounding embarrassingly dreamy about it. He’d learned that he wasn’t able to stop himself from obviously being in love so he just accepted his fate. 

Minho reached up and pulled Jisung’s face down, pressing a kiss to his lips. Jisung’s hands stilled on the older man’s face and he shut his eyes with a quiet hum of contentment

And so, that’s how their life went. Tender and quiet moments of just the two of them. Sometimes friends came over, but the space would never belong to anyone but the two of them. Nobody in this apartment yelled. They never made each other feel out of place. Finally, the place that the two of them called home truly felt like a home.

Click.

Jisung slammed his finger into the mouse and then spun around, away from the computer. He didn’t want to see the screen. If he did, he might back out.

His heart was racing. Excitement and fear battled in his chest, prickling at his skin and making his fingers twitch. 

Peeking over his shoulder, he saw bold letters on the screen announcing his fate that had been sealed.

Successfully uploaded! 

Jisung fumbled in his pocket, bringing his phone out and scrambling to type in Minho’s name. Bringing the phone to his ear, he fidgeted with his fingers as he listened to the ringing. 

“Hello? Everything alright?” Minho’s voice came through the other end and Jisung let out a breath.
“Yeah. Everything’s good. I just… um, I did it. I uploaded… a song.” 

For a moment, the line was silent. Jisung pulled his phone away from his face, checking to make sure he didn’t accidentally hang up. But no, Minho’s name and contact photo (Soonie) stared back at him.

“Seriously?” Was the eventual reply. Jisung swallowed.
“Yeah.” 

Minho let out a laugh. “Oh my God! Finally. I’m so happy. Watch, you’re going to get famous.” 

Jisung nervously chuckled. “I don’t know if I want all that… just a few streams would be nice.”
On the other end, Minho clicked his tongue. “Dream big, baby. You deserve to have your music in the millions, it’s all so incredible. You’re so talented.” 

Heat flushed through Jisung’s skin, his heart overflowing with it. Warmth bloomed and coalesced into pure adoration. Instead of being normal and saying thank you, Jisung scoffed and deflected it.
“Dick rider,” he mumbled, feeling too shy to speak at a higher volume. 

Minho let out a surprised, slightly offended laugh. “Wow. No, that’s you, baby.” 

Jisung coughed. Out of all the responses he expected, that was not on his radar. “You–! Fuck you,” he protested. “You’re always making so many dirty jokes.”

“Was that a joke?” Minho chuckled. “I think it was just a fact.”

Well, Jisung was just digging his own grave the more he talked. With an annoyed groan, he brought his phone away from his ear. “I’m hanging up!” 

Off the phone, he let out a slow breath. Damn Minho and his lust. Such sin. Jisung would never be like that. Ever. Truly. (Except for all the times he would call Minho and ask him to bring home food so they didn’t have to cook anything, allowing them more time for personal activities. Almost every week.) 

The computer screen stared back at him. It was intimidating. It thrilled him to his core.

Tentatively, he exited the congratulations screen and refreshed the page.
‘Don’t Say’ has been added to one playlist.

Jisung’s lips parted in surprise. Already? He clicked on the notification, which allowed him to see all of the playlists made with his songs. 

The one his song was added to was titled “Jisungie <3”.  His eyes trailed down to the username of the creator, and….ah. Yes. His number one fan. 

A small, positively lovesick smile took over his face.

Confidence bolstered by Minho’s endless support, Jisung uploaded more songs from his portfolio. Close. 19. Secret Secret. 

The high of seeing them appear on a profile with his name and photo was unmatched. One by one, he watched them get added to Minho’s playlist. Did he have that just to listen to Jisung’s music? Solely? God.

Well, it wasn’t as scary as he thought it would be. But he still had adrenaline coating his veins and he was not good at sports, so he decided to burn some energy by being helpful. He cleaned the kitchen and dusted the shelves, swept the floor, and put some laundry in the wash.

By the end of it, he had exerted all of his energy, and he flopped down on the bed face first and breathed in deeply. Minho’s scent still faintly lingered on the blankets. It was a soothing scent; a bit like vanilla, a bit like black tea. Masculine but not overpoweringly so, just enough to be comforting. Jisung loved it. If someone turned it into a drug, he would be an addict. 

Somewhere amidst his haze of slightly creepy sniffing, he drifted off into sleep. The scent followed him into his slumber. His dreams were hazy, but still somehow his boyfriend managed to be present in them.

Minho’s voice came clear in his subconscious. Jisung, he called. Jisungie. Look. 

Dream Jisung looked around, but he couldn’t see anything. It was like space; dark and flecked with random lights here and there. No Minho. 

Jisung’s dream landscape rocked beneath him. He tried to find his balance, but it kept moving. Minho’s voice kept echoing through his ears.

Jisung, come on. Look what I brought. Jisung… Han Jisung. Wake up!

With a jolt, Jisung sat up. He blinked alert but hazy eyes until his vision settled on Minho’s pretty face staring back at him. He rubbed his eyes to clear the sleepiness out of them. 

“Finally,” Minho complained. “I thought you were dead, the way you wouldn’t wake up! I brought something home, you’ve gotta see.”
Jisung frowned. “Sorry… I was tired. What’d you bring?” 

Their hands twined together and the younger man was tugged off of the bed and into the living room.
Minho pointed at a box. Jisung tilted his head. “A box?”

“Yes, a box. Go look.” 

With a suspicious glance at Minho, Jisung obeyed and approached the box. He peered into it and saw… a mess of dark fur huddled in a corner. 

Jisung gasped. “What the fuck?” He crouched down and poked the furball, watching with amazement as a pair of round hazel eyes stared up at him. 

“So… I found it on the street,” Minho started explaining before Jisung could even ask. “It was abandoned on the side of the road, I think. The only one in there. Meowing and shit. Please, can we keep it? We can’t leave it out there all alone.” 

Jisung scoffed. “Are you kidding? Of course we’re keeping it.” He reached into the box and tentatively picked it up. His heart ached when he realized he could feel the kitten’s bones under its fur. Already positively in love, he stroked the dark fur. It was matted and probably had a few fleas lurking under the surface, but Jisung couldn’t bring himself to be disgusted by the little baby.

Minho let out a sigh of relief. “Good… I put Soonie and Doongie in the bathroom when I came in so that they wouldn’t bother it, but we’ll have to acquaint them sooner or later.” 

“It’s fine,” Jisung said. “I’m sure they’ll get along. Soonie and Doongie are good cats.”
He moved the kitten off of his shoulder, its claws getting stuck in the fabric of his sweater momentarily. He gently unhooked them so that he could look at the kitten face-on.

“You are so cute,” he cooed, smoothing out the fur between its eyes. “What are we gonna do with you, huh?”

Well, keep it, obviously. For people like them, especially, there was no other option. Minho would adopt every single cat on the planet if he could, and Jisung was prone to weakness against cute things. And this kitten was definitely cute, as skinny and unkempt as it was. 

They moved Soonie and Doongie out of the bathroom and locked themselves in there with the cat. They ran it a warm bath and scrubbed the dirt out of its coat, revealing a pretty brown tabby pattern beneath all the grime. Once they dried it off with a low setting on the blow dryer, the kitten looked perfectly fine. Clean and cute and warm like a cat should be.

They fed it some canned tuna. Minho vehemently told Jisung they could not feed the baby Soonie and Doongie’s food because they were adult cats and the diet was not the same at all. Jisung didn’t understand, but he went along with it. Minho was the cat expert, after all. 

“Well…” Minho started as he sat on their bed, legs crossed,  kitten in his lap. “I guess we have three cats now.”
Jisung was leaned over, poking gently at the creature’s paws. The paw pads were soft and pink and he couldn’t resist playing with them. “I guess we do.” 

“A trip to the grocery store is due,” Minho continued. “And we should get another litter box. Maybe a collar too. And we have to take her to the vet, and…”

Jisung zoned out as Minho prattled on about their new list of tasks regarding the kitten. He was too occupied with the soft baby fur under his fingers to care about responsibilities at the moment. 

“Lets do all that tomorrow,” he said when Minho finished talking. “It’s too late for all that. And also, someone rudely woke me from my restful slumber, so I have some rest to catch up on.”

Minho rolled his eyes and mumbled something about laziness before standing and taking the cat with him, ignoring Jisung’s protests. “I’ll put it in the bathroom for tonight with the box and some paper towels on the ground,” he decided. “And in the morning we can go run our errands. I’m off work tomorrow anyway.” 

“Okay,” Jisung whined. “Hurry, though, I want to sleep.” 

Again, he received an eye roll from his boyfriend. Left alone in the bedroom, he flopped out in a star shape on the bed and turned off the lamp. Darkness descended on their room and Jisung pulled himself under the covers. 

The faint sound of Minho’s voice carried through the apartment. The soft tone he used when he spoke to the cats, the slightly melodic lilt to it to make it playful. Jisung adored it. He copied it sometimes. He would use that saccharine tone on Minho whenever he wanted something, and the older man folded every single time. 

Soon enough, another warm body slipped under the covers and arms wrapped around Jisung’s waist, pulling him close against a solid chest. With a sigh of contentment, Jisung accepted his fate. 

“How was your day?” He mumbled against Minho’s shirt, his mind getting hazy off of that vanilla scent.
“Boring, until I found Dori,” Minho replied.

“Dori?” Jisung echoed questioningly.  As far as he knew, he couldn’t recall anyone he’d met named Dori… 

Minho coughed. “Oh. Yeah. I was thinking we could name the cat that. Dori. Cute, isn’t it?” 

Fuck, he was so cute. Jisung bit back a smile. “Yeah… it’s a cute name. You’re already getting attached, huh? Naming the kitty?”
“You’re one to talk,” Minho retorted. “You didn’t even think twice before saying we could keep it.” 

A sleepy chuckle escaped Jisung’s lips. “Touche… ah, I’m so tired.”

“I can tell,” Minho replied. “What did you do today that made you so drained?” He asked, stroking Jisung’s hair. He was not helping the younger boy fight off the drowsiness. 

“Cleaned the whole apartment,” he sighed softly. “And also I uploaded those songs. It was emotional labor.” 

Minho hummed. “Oh yeah. I’m proud of you for doing that.” He kissed Jisung’s hair affectionately. “Good job. And the whole apartment, huh? Are you my little stay-at-home-husband now?” His voice had a light teasing tilt to it that made Jisung’s heart go a beat faster. 

“Shut up,” he complained. A moment of silence before he relented. “Maybe.”  

In Jisung’s weary state, he barely registered the quiet giggle that came out of Minho’s mouth. It was the last thing he heard before sleep claimed him though, and he was grateful. If he heard that laugh every day for the rest of his life, he would never tire of it. 

Minho kept true to his promise of dragging Jisung out for errands. They drove to the grocery store nearby. Jisung didn’t really mind; in fact, he loved doing things with Minho, but he liked to make his boyfriend have a hard time just for the fun of it. He only stopped whining when he was allowed to sit in the cart and have Minho push him around.

They grabbed cans of wet kitten food and some treats. And of course, they perused the rest of the store. The brand of Japanese pudding Minho was obsessed with was back in stock, so they grabbed almost the entire supply. The pudding sat half in Jisung’s lap and half scattered through the rest of the cart. 

“Do you think we have enough?” Jisung asked, looking down at the pile. Minho scoffed. “There is never too much pudding. They’re lucky we were merciful enough not to take their whole stock.”

Jisung scoffed. “The gluttony they talk about in the Bible, Minho.” 

Nevertheless, they bought all of the pudding in their cart and set out for a supply store to buy another litter box. On the way, they passed a shop that caught Jisung’s eye.

“Hyung,” he called, pointing out the window. He looked over and gave Minho his absolute best pleading eyes.

Minho raised his eyebrows, then followed the direction of Jisung’s finger. His eyes rested on the building and his eyebrows raised even higher.

“What? You want a tattoo?” 

Park Ink Studio. The red font sat comfortably at the top of the building. Something about it drew him in. “Yes,” he replied. “I want one. Get one with me.” 

Minho huffed out a laugh. “Ridiculous. Fine, let’s get tattoos.” 

They drove back to the apartment, put away their groceries, and then went back out to the shop Jisung had pointed out. They walked inside and were greeted by the scent of antiseptic, ink, and a faint hint of lavender.

“Welcome in,” a woman’s voice greeted them. “Be with you guys in one moment.” 

Jisung sat down in a chair near the door, Minho mirroring him. He leaned over. “What are you gonna get?” 

Minho hummed. “I dunno… maybe I should get your name written on my chest, huh?” He smirked at the younger man, who hit his arm out of embarrassment.
“No, don’t do that, it’s embarrassing. Not your chest.”

“Not my chest?” Minho laughed. “Somewhere else, then?”

Jisung huffed. “You shouldn’t get people’s names tattooed on your body. What if you regret it?”
Minho flicked his forehead. “The only way I would regret it is if we broke up, and that’s not happening, so.” 

A pout made its way onto Jisung’s face. “...whatever. Go ahead and get your name tattooed on your dick or whatever you wanna do.” As much as he pretended to be perturbed by the idea of his name engraved in Minho’s skin, it actually thrilled him. Definitely the most romantic thing someone has ever done.

“Hah,” Minho laughed. “I was thinking more like my arm, but if you want me to do it there…”
Jisung shook his head vehemently, truly embarrassed by the thought. “No! I was joking. Do not do that.” 

Their banter continued for a few more minutes until a woman with short black hair approached them. Her eyeliner was smokey and Jisung was momentarily entranced, thinking about ways he could do that himself. 

“Hello,” the woman greeted them. “I’m Soyeon, the owner. I’ve never seen you two before, so you must be first-timers… are you here for a consultation?” 

Jisung blinked. Her professional and to-the-point tone slightly threw him off. Her vibe and appearance seemed very casual. It didn’t connect in his mind.

“We were hoping to get tattoos done today, actually,” Minho answered in Jisung’s place. 

Soyeon raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You must’ve done research, huh? Thank you for your trust. I can get that arranged for you.” 

Minho smiled politely. “No, actually. We were just going home from the store and then my boyfriend here saw your shop and pointed it out. Said he wanted to go get a tattoo. So we’re here now.”

Soyeon seemed thoroughly amused by this. “Well! Thank you for noticing my studio. Give me about ten minutes and I can get started with you guys.” 

After a little while of waiting, Jisung was ushered to a different, more comfortable chair. Soyeon sat on the side, perched on a stool.
“So,” she started. “Tell me what you’re thinking about getting.” 

Jisung bit his lip. “Well… I was thinking a compass. On my chest. And um, maybe his name on my arm or something.” He added, gesturing to Minho.

Soyeon chuckled. “That’s your boyfriend, huh? You guys are cute.” Jisung accepted the praise with a nod of his head and a smile.

Quickly, Soyeon got to work sketching a design and consulting with Jisung over and over until he was satisfied. Then she immediately got to work pressing ink into his skin. First, she etched Minho’s name onto his wrist where he wanted it. Ink always reminded him of Minho. Ink was Minho; dark and permanent and a stain on his soul. Not a bad stain. But a stain nonetheless.

An assistant, Jisung assumed, started working on Minho’s tattoo. He stayed true to his word and got Jisung’s name with stars engraved around it on his wrist, the same place. 

It was dark when their tattoos were finished. Jisung’s chest hurt, and he whined about it the whole way home.
“No touching,” Jisung told him. “It hurts too much.” 

Minho rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll just wither away. The horrors.”

“Idiot,” Jisung huffed out a laugh as they walked up the stairs. The cats greeted them at the door – except for Dori, who they locked in the bathroom as he wasn’t yet able to control himself and act proper without Jisung or Minho to watch him.

Minho resigned to the shower, complaining about the smell of antiseptics that lingered on them after leaving Soyeon’s studio. Jisung holed up in their room for the time being.

His laptop on the desk, open but powered off, stared at him. The memory of the previous day’s decision itched at him. Choosing to upload songs online. For other people to see. 

Jisung’s hands moved before he consciously decided to. With the click of a button, the screen came alive, revealing his artist profile. With a nervous swallow, he refreshed the page and-

Six-thousand streams. Jisung’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. The first song he uploaded, Don’t Say, had six-thousand and eighty listens. His hands shook as he checked the others. 19, three-thousand. Close, two-thousand and eighty. Secret Secret, two-thousand and five. 

Tears blurred Jisung’s vision. He wasn’t viral. He didn’t have a million streams. But somehow, the couple thousand that he had was more than enough. More than he ever dreamed of. 

“Minho hyung,” he croaked, running out of their room and over to the bathroom door, knocking on it. “Hyung, I need to come in. Hurry up. I need a hug.” 

Minho’s voice came through the door. “What? Come in here.” 

Jisung twisted the knob and burst into the bathroom, his lip trembling and tears dripping down his face. Minho was standing in the shower, drenched, and steam clouded around him. He immediately turned the water off when he saw Jisung’s expression and stumbled out of the shower, placing his wet hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “Whoa, whoa, are you– what happened?” 

His face was so shadowed with worry that it made Jisung smile. Small and shaky.
“I got… like, six thousand streams on my song.” 

Minho’s eyes rounded and his lips parted in surprise. But then, Jisung watched as joy filled his expression. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. 

“Jisung!” Minho whispered as he squeezed the shorter man as tight as he could. “I’m so fucking proud of you!” 

Jisung let out a watery laugh and hugged Minho back, his hands pressing into wet, bare skin. He couldn’t bring himself to care that Minho was getting him all wet and the prick of pain that came from his chest tattoo getting pressed on. 

“Don’t go off and leave me just because you’re famous now, okay?” Minho joked, pulling back so they could look at each other. He stroked Jisung’s cheek, wiping away the tears.

“As if,” Jisung replied with a tiny smile. “Thanks, hyung. I… wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t encourage me.” 

Minho shook his head. “Don’t give me credit for your achievements, Jisungie. It’s because you’re talented, not because I told you to.” 

Jisung rolled his eyes, smiling a little wider. “Oh, whatever… I’m gonna shower with you, okay? I’m all wet now, I might as well.”
He received no resistance. In fact, Minho tugged his shirt off. Now bare, Jisung stepped into the warm water. He faced his back to the heat to protect his new tattoo and relaxed as Minho scrubbed soap into his hair and skin. 

There was no way his life would ever get better than this. This bubble of warmth and glowing pride deep in his core couldn’t be replaced. A feeling only Minho could give him, and selfishly, he wanted to keep relishing in it forever. 

Chapter Text

Once, Jisung’s life had passed torturously slow. He used to be so unhappy. Loneliness had gripped his throat and threw him to the ground every single day, and darkness pressed at his vision until he thought he might as well die. 

Until he met Minho. One minute they were in high school, then university, then they were moving in together. Jisung still remembered the moment Minho had asked him out as if it was yesterday.

But it wasn’t yesterday. Just like that, five years flew by right past Jisung’s eyes. He wasn’t scared of the time passing. In fact, he relished it, knowing that it was a result of how brightly his new life shone.

Jisung had been so overwhelmingly happy about six-thousand streams on his song. As he created more, the number went up and up and up. Ten thousand. Thirty thousand. Fifty thousand. A hundred thousand. His most streamed song was Hold my hand, a song very dear to him that he wrote for Minho. It was an anniversary gift. Minho cried when he listened to it. 

Despite being overjoyed at his music career taking off, Jisung still wanted freedom. He refused record labels’ contract deals. Whenever he accepted an interview, he wore a face mask and a cap. He’d seen how fame could steal the life out of people’s souls; he would not risk losing the happiness he’d waited so long for.

“Jisungie,” Minho called from his spot in front of the stove, breaking Jisung out of his sleepy thoughts.
“What?” He sat up from where he was laying on the couch and walked over, hugging Minho from behind and resting his cheek on the older man’s solid back. He’d been going to the gym more recently. Jisung drooled every time he saw Minho’s arms. 

Minho squeezed Jisung’s hands that rested on his stomach. “You wanna go out later? After lunch?”
A sleepy smile made its way across the younger man’s face. “Yesss. Where?” 

“I dunno,” Minho replied. “I was thinking about that new arcade that opened up. You like those, right?  I heard it’s a nice place.”
Jisung hummed. “Sure, let’s go then.” 

Once the food was finished, the two of them sat down and ate. Jisung’s sleepiness fell away and when he finished, he stood in front of the mirror and carefully lined his eyes in black. A black-and-white striped shirt, boots, a choker, and slightly messy hair. For some reason, the outfit gave him a sense of deja vu he couldn’t quite place. His eyes wandered across the counter, making sure he didn’t forget anything.

His gaze fell on the pair of glasses he’d left lying there the previous night. Minho was obsessed with those glasses; whenever Jisung wore them he caught the older man staring at him unabashedly a million times. Especially paired with that choker. More than once, the confidence boost he’d gotten from all the attention gave him the ability to flirt, and it led to especially passionate nights between the two of them.

Jisung slid them onto his face and then exited the bathroom, watching with satisfaction when Minho’s eyes widened.

“Oh,” the older man coughed. “Your glasses. You look good.”
Jisung’s lips curved into a small, smug smile. “Yeah?” His voice took on a teasing lilt that made Minho look away.

“Quit being cocky,” was all he said as he opened the door and held it open for Jisung to go first. It was inevitable though; how could Jisung not get a little arrogant when Minho’s attention was so fixated on him? The admiration and desire that seeped from the older man’s eyes whenever he looked at Jisung in glasses was an ego-boost. He couldn’t get enough.

The two of them got in the car and drove to the arcade ten minutes up the street. It was a little building with neon lights and ARCADE written in gaudy orange letters. Straight out of an 80’s movie, Jisung thought with amusement.

The interior was exactly what it seemed like it would be. Black carpet floors with red and blue detailing, black brick walls, vending machines and games littered everywhere. The scent of nachos and hot dogs permeated the air. Kids were running around the place, shouting competitively and chasing each other around.

“Well,” Jisung huffed out a laugh. “This is a place, for sure.”
“Let’s give it a try,” Minho replied. “If any kids come up to us, though, it’s over.”

They tried all of the arcade games; the dinosaur shooting games and the dance pad and the wheel spinner. But one of them caught Jisung’s eye and he grabbed onto the hem of Minho’s hoodie.

“Hyung,” he said, eyes shining. He pointed toward the game a few feet away. “Let’s go try that one.” 

A claw machine. Definitely rigged, but the plushies inside were so cute. And they were big, maybe they wouldn’t be too hard to grab.
Minho raised his eyebrows. He looked like he was going to refuse, so Jisung  batted his eyelashes and adjusted his glasses. Minho immediately folded.

At the machine, Jisung inserted coins and tried to move the claw to grab one of the rabbit plushies. It clamped around the white head and moved upwards – Jisung squealed with excitement and quickly tried to move it toward the opening. The claw slid up, gripping the ears, and then dropped the rabbit.

He whined in dissatisfaction and tried again. Same result.
“This is rigged!” He exclaimed. “Homophobia!”

Minho snorted and nudged Jisung out of the way. “Let me try.”

Jisung watched as the older man calmly moved the claw, skillfully and slowly maneuvering it towards the opening. He dropped it once. Didn’t get upset. Tried again. The rabbit was dropped into the opening.

“Here you go.” Minho said as he grabbed it and handed it to Jisung, who was staring in awe. He held the rabbit close and grinned.
“Oh my god,” he exclaimed. “I’m in love with you! Thank you!”

Minho chuckled and put a hand on Jisung’s waist, guiding him away. “Yeah, sure. I know you are.”

They got a container of nachos, ate them and complained about the poor quality and soggy chips, and then left. They blasted music and sang on the way home. Jisung strapped the rabbit in his lap and called it their fourth child after the cats.

“Did you check the mail today?” Minho asked when they pulled into their apartment’s parking lot.
“I didn’t,” Jisung replied. “We probably don’t have anything though.”

“Check anyway.” Minho told him, and Jisung nodded. On the way up, he peeked into their mailbox and to his surprise, there was an envelope. “Oh,” he blinked and grabbed it.

“The car dealership talking about our warranty again?” Minho asked as he unlocked the door. Jisung looked at the envelope and gasped.

“No,” he replied. “It’s our high school.”

He opened the envelope and scanned over the letter, blinking in surprise the more he read. Minho rested his chin on Jisung’s shoulder from behind, reading along.

“A reunion,” he stated, sounding amused. “Already? It hasn’t even been ten years.” 

Jisung smiled. “That’s strange. An eight year reunion? I wonder who we’ll see.”
Minho rested his hands on Jisung’s waist. “Felix, definitely. He’ll cry.”

Well, that was true. They flopped on the couch and Jisung pulled his feet onto the couch and rested against Minho. They recounted memories from high school. How Jisung fought with Hyunjin, how the two of them got into a million arguments, how they kissed and Jisung ran away, leaving Minho in the bathroom alone. Looking back, high school wasn’t all bad. Beyond the annoying teachers and his anxiety and the bits of drama, Jisung did have a good time.

“We should go,” Jisung said, looking up at Minho from his spot on his shoulder. “It’ll be nice to see everyone again.”
Minho hummed. “Yeah? You wanna go? We’ll go, then.”

Jisung smiled and slotted his fingers with Minho’s. “You think our drawings will still be in the stall?”
“Definitely not,” Minho replied with a smile in his voice. “They’ll have painted over it for sure.”

“Boooo… anyway, it’s next month, so we have time. Take off work.”
“Alright, I will.”
“I’m excited.”
“Me too.”
“You think Mrs. Choi will be happy to see me?”
“Definitely… you were obviously her favorite student.”
“Yeah, my sixty-five in her class really reflected that.”
“At least you passed.”
“Barely.”

A moment of silence, then Minho squeezed his hand. “Wanna go to the room?”
Jisung smiled. “Yeah.”

They raced each other to their room and fell onto their bed, a mess of limbs and giggles. Their door was closed and the only thing in the little bubble between them was pure love. Minho always made Jisung feel so good – in his body, about himself, about his life. 

Love like this should only exist in fairytales and movies, but here was Han Jisung, holding it in his hands.

Jisung’s middle school had been small. When he started high school, he thought it was gigantic. It wasn’t. The wooden floors seemed glossier now, the hallways more narrow and the classrooms less intimidating. To be here when he was sixteen was totally different from now, standing here as a twenty-six year old who wasn’t afraid anymore. 

“Wow,” Jisung commented as he stood next to Minho at the front door, squinting at all the people. “Looks like everyone turned up.” 

“Yeah,” Minho agreed. “You wanna find–”
He was cut off by a screech of Jisung’s name. The two of them jumped and whipped around, seeing a man run toward  them at top speed.

Jisung was almost barreled over by Felix, who ran right into him and hugged him. They spun around and would have lost balance if not for Minho steadying them.

Felix looked at Jisung excitedly. He was blonde now, and his hair was longer. The freckles he’d always tried to cover up were on display and he looked great.  Jisung hadn’t seen him for months, and his heart ached as he realized how much he missed his friend.

“Sungie,” he whined. “I missed you sooo much!”
Jisung smiled. “I missed you too. But it’s not my fault you went off to do some volunteer thing in Laos.”

“Oh, yeah! I’ve got so much to tell you about that! There was this kid who…”
He launched into a detailed account of a child he met in Laos who seemed like she had the potential to become a great Hollywood actor someday. Jisung half-listened as he looked around to see who else was there. He spotted Seungmin and Hyunjin standing together talking to one of their old teachers.

After Felix was done with his spiel, they made their way over with Minho to the other two. “Hey!” Jisung greeted them, smiling. “Long time no see.”

He’d only seen Seungmin and Hyunjin maybe twice after graduating, for New Year’s or a birthday, he couldn’t remember.
“Jisung,” Seungmin greeted him. “You look different.”

Self-consciously, Jisung glanced down at himself. “I do?”
With a reassuring smile, Seungmin replied, “yeah. But in a good way. Better.” 

“Well, nobody looks good in high school,” Jisung laughed. “Except Minho hyung, he was always insane.” He sent a teasing glance his boyfriend’s way and received a raised eyebrow in return.

Hyunjin butted in. “Oh, yeah! You guys are still together. Are you married yet?” He asked, grabbing Jisung’s hand and looking at his fingers, looking for a diamond ring amidst the other ones simply for accessorizing. 

Jisung glanced at Minho with an amused smile, and blinked when he saw a panicked look on the older man’s face.
“Uh, no,” he replied, pushing his confusion away and making  a mental note to ask about it later. “We aren’t. Just dating.” 

Hyunjin let out a sigh. “Jeez! How long has it been since you two started going out? When you were like, eighteen, Jisung, so like seven or eight years? Something like that. God, Minho, hurry up.”
The nervous look on Minho’s face was getting worse as he stammered out a reply. “Yeah, I- uh, we’re just taking it slow.”

“How slow is too slow?” Hyunjin complained, before Seungmin flicked his shoulder.
“Be nice,” Seungmin scolded. “We aren’t married yet either.”

The words seemed to bring Hyunjin out of his romance-obsessed mind and down to Earth again. “Oh, that’s right. And we’ve been dating longer than them. Hey, propose to me already!”

The five of them continued to catch up, and were eventually joined by Chan and Changbin, much to Jisung’s delight. 

“Hey, Sung,” Chan smiled at him, hooking an arm over his shoulders. “Sorry, I should say Jisung-ssi, because you’re so famous now.” He teased with a smirk, making Jisung pout his lips.
“I am not,” he protested.

Felix grinned at him. “Oh, right, you’re doing music! I almost forgot you’re super viral.”
Jisung huffed at him. “I’m not super viral. But, uh…what do you guys do these days for work?”

Seungmin was the first to respond. “I’m an English professor. Hyunjin works at a flower shop near our–”
Hyunjin slapped a hand over Seungmin’s mouth, mortified. Too late though; Jisung started laughing hysterically. “Hyunjin works at a flower shop? No fucking way, that’s too funny, I don’t believe it!” 

Chan’s arm disappeared off his shoulders as Jisung laughed his ass off. Hyunjin looked like he’d been caught shoplifting, his face red and indignant. “It’s not that funny! Shut up!”

“It gets better,” Seungmin told them. “It’s his business, he’s the owner.”
“Seungmin!”

After Jisung and the others calmed down, everyone else shared what they were up to these days. Jeongin had just joined them amidst the laughter fest; he worked at a daycare. Fitting, somehow. Felix was doing volunteer work, but at the same time studying fashion at a fancy university in Seoul. Changbin was a part-time gym trainer and made music for fun. Chan, of  course, was doing the same thing as Jisung; making music for his job. He produced under a company though, and shared he made music for some big groups. 

“We should make some music together,” Chan told Jisung, who broke out in a delighted grin.
“Yes! We totally should!” He agreed. “All three of us. Let’s get together sometime and make something good.” 

The group of eight stood there and talked for a long time, sipping on some wine or water and munching on the snacks that the school staff had prepared for the returning alumni. It was a great time, and Jisung was overjoyed to see his old friends and reconnect with them.

That said, he was still Jisung, and therefore an introvert. His capacity for social situations was not very high, and soon he got tired. He clung onto Minho’s arm and took to only listening to his friends instead of talking. 

“Tired?” Minho murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist. Jisung nodded, and Minho squeezed him. “Wanna go see if our drawings are still on our stall?”

Jisung looked up, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of them excused themselves from the group and made their way down the hallway, to the bathrooms near the gymnasium. They walked inside and Jisung felt a wave of nostalgia crash down on him. “Jeez,” he laughed in disbelief. “It still looks the same as it did eight years ago.”

Minho hummed in agreement and led Jisung down the row of stalls to the seventh one. Their stall. “Ready?” He asked, a hand ready to push the door open. Jisung nodded, curiosity itching at his hands.

As the door swung open, Jisung’s breath loosened in his throat. Scrawls of ink unveiled themselves before the two of them, and his wide eyes took it all in hungrily.

Everything was still there. They both stepped in and closed the door behind them. The I love you was still there on the door. The ink had faded a bit in the past eight years but everything was still there. A record of their love, permanent on the tiles of the stall. 

“Wow,” Minho laughed. “This is insane.” His fingers trailed over the lines, tracing the words and drawings. He found the small entries Jisung had written when Minho graduated and he was alone. 

Day ten without Minho hyung. It’s so boring. I miss my hyung!
Day thirty no Minho. This bathroom doesn’t feel as warm as it used to.
This weekend I saw Minho hyung, I like him so much.
I miss Minho hyung!!!!

A quiet laugh escaped Minho’s lips. “You wrote all this, huh?” Jisung’s cheeks itched with heat.
“Don’t make fun of me.” He complained. “I was bored.”

Minho’s hand slipped into his and he looked down at Jisung. “I was bored without you, too. I remember feeling crazy because I couldn’t see you every day.”
Jisung giggled, his embarrassment quickly forgotten. “Really?”

“Yeah... really.” Minho squeezed his hand and took a breath. “I really love you, Jisung, I think I always have. Since the first time we met, I was so intrigued by you. I mean, it was the first time I’d ever seen a cute guy vandalizing the bathroom with a Sharpie.” He chuckled quietly, his face betraying the nostalgia he was feeling. Jisung kept smiling, gazing at him. It wasn’t often Minho started reminiscing like this, so he kept quiet and let him talk.

“I know the whole high school sweethearts thing usually never works out in the end, but… it’s been eight years, I think we’re in it for life by now,” Minho continued quietly. “I know I am. I don’t ever plan on letting you go, Jisungie.”

Jisung blinked. The tone of Minho’s voice was weird. Why was he suddenly being so mushy?

“Um…the whole concept of soulmates has always been lost on me. I thought it was dumb; that there was no way a single person could be perfect for another. But I think I get it now. Because there’s no other way to describe how well you fit me, Jisung, it’s like magic.” He stared into Jisung’s eyes, his normally sharp gaze soft and vulnerable. “There’s nobody who gets me like you do, nobody I would rather love. I’ll always choose you, no matter what, and I’ve done enough thinking to know I want to spend my life with you.”

Jisung’s heart started to race. What on earth was Minho talking about right now? Where was this possibly going? His mind flashed him an image of Minho’s panicked expression when Hyunjin asked if they were married.

“What are you…?” he trailed off, the words failing him as he stared at his boyfriend.
“Jisung,” Minho said his name so softly, so reverently, it made Jisung’s legs weak.

With shock and astonishment, Jisung watched as Minho sank to his knees in front of him. “More than anything, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my whole life,” the older man whispered. “It’s a fact. I love you. I want to wake up to your beautiful face every single day, to cook you dinner and kiss you when I get home. I want to celebrate your wins and your losses and be there for you when you fall. I don’t trust anyone else to catch you.” 

He took one of his hands away from Jisung’s, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small box. Jisung let out a choked sob, biting his lip. “Hyung…” 

“Please,” Minho breathed as he opened the box and showed Jisung a glittering ruby ring. Not a diamond, because he knew Jisung didn’t care about that and that his favorite color was red. “Please marry me, Jisung.”

The tears tumbled out of Jisung’s eyes and down his cheeks, dripping off of his chin and down to the floor. For a second his voice failed him and he just nodded, getting on his knees to match Minho’s level. “Yes,” he eventually managed to croak out. “Yes, Minho, I will. There’s– there’s nobody else for me but you.” 

Minho put the box down and pulled Jisung into the tightest hug they’d ever shared. The breath was crushed out of the younger man’s chest, but he barely felt it; he couldn't breathe anyway. The weight of their promise and their love crashed down on him, filling his lungs and drowning him in the warmth. 

When Jisung actually felt he needed to breathe, he pulled away and looked up at Minho with teary eyes and a wobbly lip.
“Don’t cry,” Minho told him, even though he was also crying. He wasn’t an emotional person like Jisung; he’d only cried a few times in the years they’d known each other. Love ached in his heart like a thorn coated in honey. Minho cared enough about this that he cried, not just misty eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I want to stay with you forever.”
Minho shook his head and kissed him soft and slow. Between touches of their lips, he murmured, “don’t thank me… thank you. For letting me marry you… I love you.”

There, in the stall where their love began, it pulsed the most passionate. There was nothing dirty or sinful about this, no; it was the purest love could get. Jisung loved Minho more than he ever thought was possible, thanks to this stall. The ink on the wall had turned into something more; a picture of the strongest affection that etched itself onto his heart forever.

When he was young, Jisung pictured himself in a situation like this. He imagined that love would be red-hot and passionate like movies told him it would be. But really, it was soft  and comfortable and slow; golden like daylight. A home to relax in and a luxury he would never take for granted. He thought about his life before Minho, before sunlight started to filter through his blinds and light up his life. It was so cliche, but Jisung loved cliches. 

Minho always snuck up on him. On the first day they met, and every day after that. The love blooming in his heart surprised him, it pounced on him and grabbed him by the throat before he could even understand it. When they met, Jisung thought he would never see Minho again after that strange encounter. He thought that strange upperclassman would just become a memory, a story to tell in the nursing home.

Sixteen year old Jisung could never have predicted Minho would not let him forget.

Twenty-six year old Jisung knew it for a fact.