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The door closed with a soft click, and the small apartment sank into thick darkness. Only silver moonlight spilled through the uncovered kitchen curtains, falling across the floor in uneven patches.
And it was oddly quiet. No yelling, no arguing, no music, no buzz from the TV or the frantic tapping on the poor laptop’s keyboard (the one that should’ve been allowed to rest in peace for a while already).
Just silence. Strange and unfamiliar.
Jisung shifted his weight from foot to foot in the hallway, feeling unexpectedly awkward. He was used to living in the dorm, used to constantly sharing space, food, even a bed from time to time. He was used to sharing hotel rooms with one of the members during tours and events, because booking eight separate rooms wasn’t always an option. But now, being alone with Minho in their shared apartment for the first time, he felt almost as uneasy as that one time Felix had locked the two of them in a closet for seven minutes during some drinking game and forbidden them to come out until the timer ran out. Back then it had felt somehow wrong to lean closer, to intertwine their fingers, to kiss those soft lips he loved, even though that was clearly the whole point of the game.
Now everything just felt wrong. Including the fact that they were alone in a dim apartment that had been rented for more than just one night. There were no cameras or other members' stuff, but there was a shoe rack, crammed with Jisung’s and Minho’s sneakers. And somehow that made everything more awkward and confusing.
This was their apartment, and they were alone.
Like, completely alone.
Jisung felt his ears grow warm, and his heart started beating faster than it should in this kind of situation.
Embarrassing.
Minho, who had been standing still beside him until now, carefully set his bulky backpack to the floor and crouched down.
“I’ll make dinner,” he said quietly for some reason. Maybe he was just tired. Or maybe it was the darkness and the strange atmosphere of the apartment that were affecting him. “You can take a shower and set up the bed while I cook. Don’t forget to toss your clothes in the laundry, I’ll wash everything before practice tomorrow.”
Jisung opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again the moment he felt Minho undoing the laces of his sneakers.
“What are you doing?” Jisung asked stupidly, almost in a whisper, too.
“Helping you take your shoes off.” Minho lifted Jisung’s foot with one hand and pulled the sneaker off with the other. “Why? Am I not allowed to do that?”
“Of course it’s allowed. Who’d dare stop you?”
Jisung’s ears grew even warmer, the heat slowly spreading to his forehead and cheeks. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Minho, now kneeling in front of him, helping him take off his shoes, though there was no real need for it. As always, Minho had just decided to take care of him without asking.
When Minho stood up and stepped into the moonlight, Jisung followed him and wrapped his arms around him from behind, lacing his fingers against Minho’s stomach. It felt right to hug him right now and just hold each other like that, standing still in the middle of the hall. Maybe it was silly. Maybe it was strange. But Minho, his sweet, beloved Minho, who understood him better than anyone else without ever needing words, showed no surprise, no annoyance and no discomfort he might have felt. He simply placed his hands over Jisung’s and began gently stroking his fingers.
Perhaps they should have said something, but breaking the delicate silence or — even worse — turning on the lights felt almost like a crime. It was like they’d slipped into another world, detached from reality. And in that world they felt good, wrapped in each other’s arms. The light would’ve instantly cut through the darkness, shattering their tiny universe filled with silence and the pale silver of the moon.
They could stand like this for as long as they wanted, and no one would interrupt, hurry them, or persistently remind them of the schedule, no one would shoot them a disgusted glance to silently urge them to get out of the common space with their tenderness. Here, the entire space was theirs, and so was the time, all the way until morning.
There was no ticking clock, and Jisung had lost track of the seconds. Or had it already been minutes? How long had they been standing there, gently holding each other? And did it even matter?
Apparently, it did. The moment was broken not by words, but by a loud grumble from Minho’s stomach. Jisung snorted in amusement, resting his forehead against the soft shoulder in front of him.
"Sorry, you’re hungry, and I just can’t let go of you," Han said softly, without a hint of remorse in his voice.
"You can climb on my back, and we’ll get to the kitchen like that," Minho offered casually, as if piggyback rides were a completely normal and reasonable method of transportation. "I’ll cook, and you can either hold on tight enough not to fall, or just stand behind me and keep hugging me. We’ll deal with the bed and laundry later."
Jisung thought it was silly. That the guys would probably grumble and tell them to get a room… and then he remembered.
They were at home .
This was their apartment and their rules. If he wanted to cuddle with Minho while cooking, he could. He had every right to do so. He could join him in the shower. He could touch and kiss him, even in the most inappropriate places. He didn’t have to keep in mind anyone else’s schedule, didn’t have to control his voice. It was their little world, and they were absolutely free here.
Leaning on Minho’s shoulders as he crouched slightly, Jisung jumped up, wrapped his legs around Minho’s waist, and pressed his whole body against his broad back, practically purring. His warm skin smelled comfortingly familiar: Minho’s own natural scent, expensive cologne, and just a hint of sweat. Jisung breathed it in again and again, as his boyfriend carried him piggyback into their kitchen.
And even if they acted like the sappiest, most ridiculously lovestruck couple all the time here, no one could tell them to behave decently. The moon stayed silent, and there was no one else to see or hear them anyway. And Jisung felt happiness spreading warmly in his chest.