Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yongbok’s new relationship brought on a lot of changes.

There was, of course, the undeniable yet soft glow under his skin. His easy smile everyday. His giddiness when he stared into the phone, sometimes accompanied by a rosy blush on his cheeks. His sighs around the house whenever it had been around forty-eight hours since he last saw his boyfriend. Nothing unusual for a honeymoon phase, and overall Minho was happy for him. Yongbok had grown to be a close friend over the years they’d known each other, and he met Changbin a couple of months after they started dating. 

The PT had sparkly eyes that followed Yongbok everywhere, and he was funny, friendly, but never disrespectful. He was really glad to meet Minho and Hyunjin, bringing them coffee on more than one occasion whenever visiting their dorm. Minho approved of him, and he made sure to tell Yongbok as much. 

The other…additions, however. Those were a little more difficult to unpack.

The first of them was Kim Seungmin. Minho had met him on Changbin’s birthday, at a noraebang, and politely offered casual speech as the older one. It was expected when you were trying to be friendly. 

It was not expected, however, that the younger person accepted immediately. 

Kim Seungmin took it upon himself to address him as hyung, leaving all other formalities at the door, and simply began talking his ear off about how it was amazing that he did dance with Felix, wasn’t Felix so great at video games? What games does Minho play? Did he know Seungmin also had a boyfriend? What were his opinions on long-term gay relationships, seeing as he was in one too? Did he think Korea’s laws for gay marriage would change soon? 

“Changbinnie,” Minho finally sing-songed, drawing Yongbok’s boyfriend’s attention away from him choosing a track from the list. “Can you come collect your puppy?”

“Aw, hyung,” Seungmin gave him a pretty smile, all teeth and scarily innocent. “You don’t like it when people make you think?”

How. How did he manage to insult him politely. Minho frowned. “Yah, Changbin,” he tried again, tutting for good measure. “You forgot his leash.”

Seungmin cackled and managed to annoy him more and more often, every time they all got together. Hyunjin found him hilarious, but Minho suspected it was because someone his age (those damn ‘00 liners were multiplying everywhere) finally teased him back. Hyunjin was well-trained by now, he knew not to piss Minho off or he’d be eating tissues for a week. 

Seungmin, however, was a really rebellious dog. So Minho had to call his owner more often than not.

After Seungmin, came Jeongin. Jeongin was Seungmin’s high school sweetheart, and they were opposites in every way. Jeongin was respectful and smiled a lot, introverted but still kind. He was a year younger but he had two siblings, so he was well-versed in diplomacy. He always made sure to voice his opinion in their large group, but in a well-mannered fashion, and Minho liked him very quickly, much like when he first met Hyunjin and Yongbok.

The final person missing from their circle was the ever-elusive Bang Chan. He was Changbin’s Australian friend, older than both him and Minho, and he produced music for a living. Changbin had an interest in that too, actually, something he shared with the group a little while after meeting them. Minho still remembered when Yongbok came home after a date and rambled about his boyfriend’s rapping skills, and ‘did you know he did a collab with Chan-hyung? Chan-hyung is this amazing producer, arranger, lyricist, you name it. An all rounder, he even lended his vocals or raps for demos, directing upcoming artists in the recording booth already.’

He apparently was this God-sent prodigy, learning instruments since he was a child, having been a K-pop trainee for years giving him the connections he needed to make the jump into writing and composing. He was ‘too shy to be an idol’ even though Yongbok ‘can’t fathom why’ since he had ‘that body’.

Minho did not know what that meant. And he hoped Yongbok hadn’t talked like that in front of Changbin, for the PT’s sake. Minho suspected the reaction would’ve been him spending even more hours at the gym than he already did.

The thing was, Minho had a thing about control. Being the older in their dorm meant the boys looked up to him and respected his opinion. They came to him for advice in dance, in life, in dating. They became friends with Jisung and they hung out, the four of them, pretty often. 

With Changbin in the equation, although Minho didn’t dislike him, they were up to five. With Seungmin, that pest, they were six. Jeongin included, seven. Whenever this Bang Chan finally decided to show up, they would have doubled from their original quartet, and Minho would have to adjust to not being the older in the group anymore. So he was already a little…resistant, maybe is the word. He just had a limit to his extroverted side, and they hit that limit whenever Seungmin was in the vicinity. 

Jeongin was alright, though. Minho kind of wished they only brought Jeongin even though Seungmin was the one who was Changbin’s housemate.

The first time he met Bang Chan, at Yongbok’s and Jisung’s birthday, he understood what he meant by ‘that body’.

Minho was not insecure about himself in any capacity. He had a dancer’s body. A toned stomach but no six-pack. Strong, thick thighs and even stronger arms, but nowhere near as big as Changbin’s.

Now, comparing, they were also nowhere near Bang Chan’s.

Chan was Minho’s height. But he had broader shoulders, bigger arms, and a smaller waist. He looked like he skipped all the previous group meetings where they could have met in order to starve himself and go to the gym. That’s how good he looked.

Apparently he was ‘an insomniac’ who ‘hit the gym whenever he couldn’t sleep’ or whatever information Yongbok passed on from the few encounters he had with the man. Yongbok and him apparently became fast friends even without meeting too many times in person, constantly texting in English at a speed and alphabet Minho could only hope to comprehend.

But even with Yongbok’s admiration, and those miraculous body proportions, and his one year older status, Bang Chan wasn’t full of himself. In fact, he was very shy, meeting Minho, Jisung and Hyunjin for the first time. He introduced himself very politely, bowing and acting more Korean than Seungmin, who had been born and raised here. 

He teased Changbin over his relationship, saying ‘Felix was too good for him’, which Minho agreed with. When Minho introduced himself, Chan was interested, asking follow-up questions but never bringing up his own past as a trainee. When Minho asked, he looked surprised, but answered even still, humbly saying his dance skills left much to be desired, even though Minho suspected that to not be true. It would add to his annoying perfectness.

But, all in all, Minho was giving this guy a chance. It wasn’t his fault that he had a cool job in South Korea’s most lucrative industry, or that he played a handful of instruments, or apparently was very successful for his young age. He was humble, nice, and not annoying like Kim Seungmin, so that was already a bonus in his book.

Han Jisung seemed to think the same.

And here’s the thing about Jisungie. He and Minho were introverts. They met and clicked immediately, Jisung having lost his way in the university on his first day there. Minho was also beginning his first year after a two-year break for work, and found Jisung nervously hovering over the door Minho was supposed to go through.

He asked if Jisung needed any help. He said he thought he was in the wrong place. Minho took one look at those cheeks, his eyebrows scrunching up in a panic for having to interact with a stranger and depend on him and his information to get around…

And felt like swallowing him whole.

He just looked so cute and lost. So Minho missed his entire first period helping him get around, and then asked for his number, ‘in case he got lost and needed help again.’ And the rest is history.

After six months dating, Jisung admitted that he found his way ten minutes after, but kept looking around and leading Minho in circles just to talk for longer. He also confessed that when they kissed for the first time, he went home and cried. He knew he was bisexual but admitting to a boyfriend to his parents would have a very different response than showing up with a girlfriend.

But his feelings for Minho were always too strong to keep to himself. So for him, Jisung was brave, even if Minho was content to wait.

And Minho was happy and secure in both his body and his relationship, thank you very much.

However.

Jisung’s eyes seemed to revere Bang Chan. He of course had heard the stories, and Minho supposed it was fair to feel that way. His Jisungie had a hidden talent.

He wrote songs. 

Not just songs, but raps. He was very good at it, too. He sang beautifully, always belting it out in noraebang or playing with voice effects on a track. He did a couple of those in amateur music programs, and after months together, he was finally ready to show Minho his songs, ‘if he was interested.’

They tackled various subjects. Minho’s favorite so far was Alien, and he related so hard he felt like crying on the first listen. He hugged Jisung tight and said for the first of many times how talented he was.

There were cheeky raps boasting confidence, and there were heartfelt ballads. He was truly an ace, and if he showed his music to anyone else, Minho was sure people would feel the same. But even if they had been dating for four years, Minho was still the only one Jisung showed his music to. 

Until Bang Chan.

When Minho went to grab more drinks, he returned to their table at the bar to find Jisung animatedly talking with hand gestures. Something he really only did when he was comfortable enough. It was…hard to get that out of him at a first meeting. But, Minho supposed, Jisung was already a drink in, and he was a lightweight. Maybe the liquid courage helped him loosen up around the stranger.

“That’s a good program,” Chan was nodding kindly. “I used it when I first started, too.”

Were they…talking about music? Jisung’s music?

Within five minutes of meeting?

“That’s great to know, hyung!” Jisung beamed, not even noticing when Minho put his drink in front of him. Then his face fell. “Uh, sorry, Chan-ssi. I didn’t ask -”

“Oh, no problem!” Chan smiled, and his eyes closed at the gesture. So he could act cute, too, Minho narrowed his eyes and sipped his drink to try and disperse the thought. “Hyung is fine, Jisung. Honestly, Felix talks so much about you guys, I feel like I know you already.”

But you don’t, Minho wants to correct. And yeah, maybe the booze is getting to him, too, but he looks around to see if anyone else is seeing this and finds Hyunjin with his eyes narrowed, in a mirroring suspecting expression. And Minho feels at ease. So he’s not the only one who finds this weird.

And then Chan talks about other, paid music programs, but affordable ones, giving Jisung pro tips. “Even if it’s a hobby,” he added. “If it’s something you’re passionate about, and want to do well, you’re always free to drop by the studio if you want. Changbinnie is there often, you guys could come over together.”

And yeah, okay, that seemed considerate if you took it at surface-level. Friendly guy, sees someone who is obviously a little shy, tries and makes it so his first contact with a new environment isn’t as scary if there’s someone he knows there. Minho can see the appeal he could have on a younger, more impressionable guy like his boyfriend.

“I didn’t know you did music, Jisung,” Hyunjin comments, and it’s like Jisung finally remembers the rest of their table, noticing Minho and the drink he brought for him.

“Oh!” He flushed a little at the implication, taking his glass and swirling the contents before sipping it. He doesn’t flinch at the taste, but he takes a moment to continue talking. “It’s kind of… a private thing that I do, sometimes. Sorry, Hyunjin. I only told Minho-hyung before.”

Minho feels a deep sense of satisfaction at that admission, as if he was threatened by Hyunjin not Chan. But a win is a win, so he seizes the opportunity to prove to them once and for all who has the most knowledge on Jisung. “He’s really talented, too.”

Jisung ducks his head at the praise, trying and failing to hide his smile.

“Oh,” Chan turns to Jisung with understanding in his features. “There’s no need to show me anything, by the way. Unless you want to, of course. You could just tour the studio with Changbin, see what it’s like in there. No strings attached.”

Minho’s right eye twitches at the word choice, and his only consolation is that Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at that, too.

That night is the beginning of Minho’s problems.

Him meeting Bang Chan in person does not happen as often as him seeing the PT, the pest and the sweetheart, but he is mentioned enough that Minho feels like he’s there in spirit.

“Chan-hyung got me this,” Seungmin explained when Yongbok asked where he had gotten his phone case. 

“No fair,” Yongbok had pouted. “I want one too!”

“I’ll buy you one, Lixie,” Changbin offered immediately. 

Yongbok grinned. “Then I’m asking hyung for a different present. He said he owed me for my birthday, anyway.”

Apparently he liked to spoil his friends. Minho didn’t find it nice. He found it overbearing. But he seemed to be the only one picking up on Bang Chan’s obviously infuriatingly perfect behavior and personality. Well, him and Hyunjin. They don’t talk about it, but Minho saw Hyunjin leave right after Bang Chan at Yongbok and Jisung’s birthday in September. So he figures at least Hyunjinnie gave him a piece of his mind.

That night, Chan and Jisung exchanged numbers. Minho obviously didn’t expect anything to happen anytime soon. But happen it did.

He scheduled the visit with Changbin for the following week. Jisung came back raving about all the different equipment and what it did, eyes sparkling like they did whenever he really liked an anime or got a chord progression right. Minho couldn’t help but smile fondly, catching Jisung in his arms and pulling him to his lap.

“Hyung,” Jisung giggled before Minho’s lips could even touch his neck. “I’m talking, here.”

“Mm,” Minho ignored, kissing his skin all the way to Jisung’s earlobe. “You can keep talking, jagi.”

“You know I can’t,” Jisung whined. “Not when you do that.”

“But you look so cute flustered,” Minho argued.

Jisung huffed and laughed, pushing Minho away but staying in his lap. He said he’d want to come back to the studio one day, but he didn’t know if ‘Chan-hyung’ was just being nice when he offered at the end of the tour. 

“Well, he’s Changbin’s friend,” Minho mused. “He’s got to be a man of his word.”

Jisung hummed, playing with the string of Minho’s hoodie, seemingly deep in thought.

“And if he’s not, I can always kill him.”

Jisung bursts out laughing, and Minho tackles him to the bed.

October seemed to last forever.

After visiting the first time, Jisung came back to Chan’s studio with Changbin the following week, and apparently Chan offered him to come back every Tuesday at a set time. So Jisung could record his own personal songs.

Jisung was understandably over the moon. 

Minho had something ugly lodging in his chest.

It made him unable to celebrate Jisung’s new friend. Anytime he mentioned ‘Chan-hyung’, Minho felt sick. Every single bit of information he learned about the man was against his will.

“Hyung, did you know Chan-hyung wrote a song for NMIXX?”

“Minho-hyung, I showed him my songs. He said I have real talent. He said he wasn’t just saying that, either!”

“Hyung, he liked Alien too! Just like you. He said he identified with it because he’s bisexual. Isn’t that crazy? That I wrote it from that perspective and he understood it like that even though the lyrics don’t say anything about being queer?”

“Minho-hyung, can you believe Chan-hyung gave me and Changbin-hyung a homecooked lunch today? He said he lost track of portions last night, and sent us home with extra to share with everyone. He said Changbin-hyung should share with Felix and I should share with you and Hyunjin.”

And wasn’t he just a saint.

“Is his cooking any good?” Minho asked, already scared of the answer.

“Oh, the best, Minho-hyung! Maybe it was because it’d been a while since I had steak, but it was delicious.”

“The best, huh.”

“Second only to hyung’s cooking,” Jisung smiled, batting his eyelashes and giggling when Minho finally broke into a smile too.

“You’re just buttering me up,” Minho accused, making his way to the kitchen.

“And what if I am?” Jisung pouted, following him. “Can’t a guy want his boyfriend to cook for him?”

Minho’s chest puffed up a little in pride. “Sure, Jisungie. What do you wanna eat?”

The month went on with Jisung’s weekly encounters bringing Bang Chan more and more into their daily life, to the point where Minho could no longer pretend to not be bothered whenever Jisung brought up his visits to the studio.

They were having dinner at Minho’s dorm, Yongbok at Changbin’s and Hyunjin… somewhere. He seemed to disappear more and more often the last few weeks. And Minho was quiet, which wasn’t unlike him, but usually he’d be so tuned into what Jisung was saying. And recently, with all the negative, festering feelings inside, Minho felt like burying them was better. Maybe Jisung wouldn’t notice, since he was so caught up in this new project.

“What was the song’s name again?” Minho asked.

“Volcano,” Jisung answered after chewing. 

“Is this one of yours? I haven’t heard it.”

Jisung hummed. “It’s Chan-hyung’s project. He just asked for my input in some of the, uh, lyrics.”

Minho examined Jisung’s face carefully. “Are you, like…working on songs together, now? I thought he was lending you the place so you could record your stuff?”

“We’re sort of working together, yeah,” Jisung answered, head down so he could focus on his chopsticks. “I just don’t get paid,” he teased a little.

Minho did not find it funny. “You should be paid for working, Jisungie.”

“Believe me,” Jisung shook his head. “I should be paying him for his time and for the studio I get to use.”

Minho doesn't understand how these things work. “Well, can I hear the song anyways? I love your lyrics.”

Jisung froze. “It’s… sort of Chan-hyung’s baby, hyung,” he looked at Minho apologetically. “I don’t think he’d be comfortable with me sharing it before it’s ready.”

Minho felt his face contorting into a frown. 

“But,” Jisung was quick to amend, “You’ll be the first to listen when it is!”

Minho nodded and decided to let it go. But it was getting harder and harder to not notice how his own birthday was coming up, and Jisung hadn’t asked him anything.

Every year for the four they’ve been together, Minho watches in absolute bliss as Jisung tries and fails to ask him subtly about things he’d like for a birthday present or celebration. Minho knows Jisung in and out by now, learned he never questions something unless his mind has a specific goal, which is trying to think of gifts or surprises. 

This year? Crickets.

No ‘hyung, do you like bars better than clubs’ or ‘jagi, did you still want that varsity jacket you saw that other day’ nor ‘your shoe size is still the same, right?’

Nothing. All he spent time on these days was either going to the studio, correcting lyrics before going to the studio, or listening to demos after going to the studio. 

Minho tried to ignore it, but he was constantly feeling like something was wrong. There was an impending sense of doom that Jisung might actually fall for the guy, if he hasn’t already, and leave him.

And if Jisung left him Minho would fucking kill himself.

Not actually. He doesn’t think. But he would feel like it, for sure.

On October 23rd, just a couple days before his birthday with absolutely no plans made other than Yongbok’s text (in the blasted group chat where all eight of them were), saying they should go out for dinner on the 25th to celebrate Minho, he finds Hyunjin in the living room.

“What do you think about Bang Chan-ssi?”

Hyunjin freezes mid-popcorn bite. “Why?”

“I have a…feeling,” Minho shrugs.

Hyunjin blinks. “A feeling. About him?”

“Yeah, I think he’s…” It was hard to explain without sounding insane. Being so nice that my boyfriend might leave me for him? “Not what he says he is,” Minho settles for. “In a way,” he adds mysteriously.

“I wouldn’t know, hyung,” Hyunjin frowns. “It’s not like I know him very well.”

“Yeah,” Minho sighs. “Me neither.”

It comes to a boiling point the following day. Minho comes over to sleep at Jisung’s, duffel bag on his shoulder. But Jisung arrives visibly stressed, and part of Minho hopes it’s because he just realized it’s his birthday tomorrow, and that he got a present that won’t arrive in time, or something. Anything relating to his birthday tomorrow. Even if it was something negative, since it was clearly giving Jisung anxiety.

“What’s up, jagi?” Minho hugs him close before moving to the couch. “What’s going on, hm?”

Jisung inhales shakily, trying to breathe deeply and letting the air out in short huffs. He rubs his head under Minho’s chin for comfort. “It’s just… hard.”

Minho hums, his arms never leaving Jisung but sitting them down so they can talk more comfortably. “That’s okay, Jisungie.”

“It’s hard to make a decision,” Jisung completes at last, sounding unsure. Minho completely stills.

“About what?” His voice comes out small.

“It’s just hard to call it, I guess,” Jisung shrugs, and leans back in Minho’s arms to look him in the eyes. “To know when your song is actually ready.”

Minho could cry out in relief, but he instead focuses on the topic of conversation. So this is about the Volcano project. “Yeah, but it’s not your song, baby,” he corrected gently, trying to take the weight off Jisung’s shoulders. “It’s Bang Chan’s.”

Jisung freezes, and he’s such a bad liar, Minho doesn’t know why he didn’t notice before. “Oh, uh. Yeah. You’re right, hyung.”

Minho blinks, leans forward to see Jisung better. Starts frowning at what he finds there. “Isn’t it?”

Jisung nods, but he can no longer meet his eyes. “Yes, hyung.”

Minho grits his teeth together, and this is it. This is his last fucking straw. “Jisung. I’m only gonna ask you this once.”

Jisung actually whimpers, eyes closed and flinching like he’s expecting a blow. Even though Minho never raised his voice at him, or did anything of the sort. More like Jisung was anticipating conflict. Like he knew he was in the wrong.

“Are you lying to me?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, and suddenly his eyes are open and wide and watering fast. “Hyung, I’m sorry, the song is mine, but I just, I don’t want you to see it yet, it’s not perfect, it’s -”

“You always showed me your works in progress before,” Minho cuts him, something ugly lodging in his throat, and suddenly his eyes are prickling, too. “What’s different this time?”

Jisung panics, probably realizing how this looks. “Hyung, there’s nothing different, I promise, it’s just, since I have the studio hour once a week, I figured I could wait until the song’s ready for real, and Chan-hyung hasn’t approved the final version yet -”

“So now ‘Chan-hyung’ has to approve what I listen to or not?” Minho sounds as horrified as he feels, to learn that everything they built over years of being together could be replaced so easily, mere weeks after meeting this older, more interesting man. But Minho guesses he should know, he couldn’t expect to be Jisung’s first and only boyfriend.

Jisung is getting frustrated but not talking, he clearly has something else he’s hiding and Minho has an inkling of what it is. He doesn’t deny the accusation of Chan having control over the song, a song that’s not even his. It’s Jisung’s music, and Minho doesn’t know it. Hasn’t heard it before everyone else. He has lost his exclusiveness, his boyfriend privileges.

He’s not proud of how the festering feeling manifests after weeks of nursing the venom, quietly but surely. “Maybe you should ask ‘Chan-hyung’ to be your boyfriend, too,” he snaps, standing up, grabbing his duffel bag and leaving the apartment.

Jisung gasps, and Minho hears him call out his name before he slams the door and leaves in a harsh step.

His walk is fast-paced and unrelenting, and only when he arrives at the bus stop does he allow himself to crumble. His eyes water and he sobs, fists desperately rubbing at his eyes and thanking every God there is that the bus stop is empty. He can’t remember the last time he cried. He doesn’t think Jisung has ever seen him cry. He doesn’t remember crying after meeting Jisung.

Minho cries until his bus comes, and then he sniffs all the way home. His head is filled with useless thoughts of jealousy and envy, ugly little feelings. His chest aches like he’s about to have a heart attack. His breaths are shallow and trembling, and he misses his usual bus stop. He gets off and has to walk an extra ten minutes, and he trudges his feet, completely miserable. He doesn’t dare check his phone. He’s scared of seeing Jisung’s confirmation text that yeah, maybe he will ask Chan-hyung to be his boyfriend. Or a missed call wanting to meet so they can end it on a good note, face to face. 

Or worse, seeing no notifications at all.

When he gets home, Yongbok is on the couch watching a dating show, and Minho tries not to speak to him so his voice doesn’t waver and give him away.

“Oh, hey hyung,” Yongbok immediately glances over. “I thought you’d sleep over at Jisungie’s?”

And Minho thought he was done crying, but apparently not.

He chokes on a cry, and Yongbok’s eyes almost bulge out of his head in shock, but it only lasts a couple seconds before he’s getting up and hugging Minho.

“Hyung, what’s wrong? You can talk to me.”

“It’s Jisungie,” Minho hugs him back, crying into his friend’s shoulder. “He’s breaking up with me.”

“Jisung?” Yongbok asks as if Minho has more than one boyfriend. “That’s impossible, hyung. He worships you.”

“Not anymore,” Minho sniffs, stepping out of the hug and sitting on the couch with crossed arms and legs. “I think he’s leaving me because he’s falling for someone else.”

Yongbok still looks like he wants to argue, but seemingly decides against it. “What makes you think that?”

So Minho tells him. Dumps weeks and weeks of feelings on Yongbok, who nods and lets him finish before giving his two cents. “Okay, so first of all. Communication is key.”

Minho scoffs.

“I’m serious, hyung,” Yongbok tuts disapprovingly. “If you told him you were feeling insecure, I’m sure this would’ve been solved already.”

“‘M not insecure,” Minho protests weakly. “I’m just stating the facts.”

“Jisungie’s a perfectionist,” Yongbok ignores him. “I didn’t even know he did music until he mentioned it at our birthday. But it makes so much sense.” Yongbok scoots closer on the couch. “He has an artist’s soul. You know what that’s like. Would you show him a routine you were working on if you were messing it up?”

Minho mumbles and grumbles. “I guess not. But maybe if he asked. And I asked.”

“Still. You would probably check with your teacher, right? That’s what Chan-hyung is for him. A mentor. Jisung’s never met anyone who has a position in that market, who works with that. If it makes you feel any better, he pesters Changbin-hyung just as much about music overall.”

Minho…did not know that. Maybe Jisung did mention both Chan and Changbin, but Minho unknowingly did not worry because he knew Changbin looked at Yongbok like he hung the stars. 

“To my understanding, they have a group chat, just the three of them,” Yongbok continued. “Some pun about spicy pepper or something like that. I think Jisung only talks in the group chat, almost never with Chan-hyung alone. Whatever he’s working on, he clearly wants Changbin-hyung’s opinion as well. So maybe it’s a passion project for him, and he’s asking for their inputs on how to make it perfect. Maybe he feels like he has the opportunity to make something even better now that Chan-hyung’s lending him studio hours. Those aren’t cheap.”

“You have to pay for studio hours?”

“A lot,” Yongbok laughs. “Don’t we have to rent dance studios as well? And that’s just a room with a mirror wall and a sound system. The equipment in Chan-hyung’s studio belongs to the company, it’s very professional and expensive. Jisung never rented a studio like that in his life. Changbin-hyung told me he was really cute on the day they toured the studio, asking what everything did and very curious, asking permission to touch and all that.”

“Changbin said he was cute?” Minho asked without meeting Yongbok’s eyes, fingers fiddling with the couch armrest.

“Not in those words, you possessive lunatic,” Yongbok rolled his eyes.

“I’m not possessive,” Minho defended weakly.

“Sure. And I don’t order my boyfriend around.”

Minho tutted in disapproval. “Anyways. I didn’t know it was that…rare of an opportunity.”

“Chan-hyung’s lending it to him for free,” Yongbok added carefully. “He lets Jisung work on his personal stuff there during his lunch hour, once a week. Changbin-hyung is there a lot, too, and sometimes they do work together on lyrics or beats. But this Volcano project seems to be really important for Jisung.” He then took a deep breath, as if he knew what he had to say next wouldn’t be well-received. “I don’t think wanting your boyfriend to only see your passion project once it’s finished and perfect means he’s cheating on you.”

And yeah, Minho figured that would sting. But maybe he deserved to hear that.

“And when did you get so wise, huh.”

“Oh, when I started dating,” Yongbok sighed, but it was teasing. “I became a real relationship expert.”

“You literally only order Changbin around.”

“And he obeys, so I must be doing something right.”

Minho ruffled Yongbok’s hair with fondness. “Thanks, Yongbok-ah.”

“You’re welcome, hyung,” he smiled like the sunshine he was. Happiness looked good on him.

Minho went to his room, and with the heaviest of hearts, checked his phone. His face lit up in the darkness, showing there were lots of missed calls from Jisung, dozens of texts saying he could explain, if Minho could please come back, they could talk about it.

Minho felt his throat close up again, but he held back this time. He only sniffed as he opened up the messages, reading them and feeling Jisung’s desperation increasing with every passing minute he hadn’t heard back.

In truth, they had barely been separated for an hour, as it was a little past ten p.m. But Jisung probably stayed there, frozen, not used to emotional outbursts from Minho.

Jisung was the emotional one. He sometimes felt overwhelmed, or had an anxiety attack, and Minho helped him through it. But Minho had never been the one to give him something to be anxious about. He never threw a tantrum and left Jisung alone to deal with his feelings.

Minho sighed deeply, getting to the last sent message.

i love you hyungie

Minho called him after that.

“Minho?” Jisung answered immediately, probably so distracted that he forgot honorifics. He did that sometimes. “Jagi, I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

“I’m coming over,” Minho interrupted. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Sungie. Don’t you worry, okay?”

“Okay,” Jisung cried on the phone, probably from relief. He hated feeling like other people were mad at him. That was why he and Hyunjin took a while to see eye to eye, at first. 

“I love you too,” Minho said, because he knew Jisung would spiral inside his head if he didn’t know everything would be fine between them before Minho even got there.

“Okay,” Jisung repeated, sniffing and voice wobbly. “H-How soon can you be here?”

“I’m calling a car right now,” Minho got up from the bed, tapping on the app and putting in Jisung’s address. “It says fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,” Jisung exhaled slowly, his sniffs and voice getting under control. “I’ll wait for you.”

“I’ll be there.”

Minho grabbed his duffel bag again, said bye to Yongbok, and left.

When Jisung opened the door, he was pissed. His eyes were red and puffy, and his lips were jutted out in an accusatory pout.

“I’m gonna kill you, hyung,” he threatened, pulling him inside by the collar. “What the fuck?”

Minho winced. “I’m sorry.”

Jisung closed the door behind him and shook him by his hoodie. “What was that? Do you wanna break up? Huh?”

Minho shook his head.

“Then are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Jisung frowned, hands still bunching up the fabric.

“I’m sorry,” Minho repeated, and he couldn’t help but notice the parallels. Once, Jisung’s anxiety got so bad he disappeared for an entire day. No one could reach him or find him, and when he did come back Minho had asked him the same thing.

He feels bad for making Jisung go through this, too.

Minho pouts. “Can we talk? In the couch?”

Jisung still glared at him, but nodded. 

Once they were sitting down, Minho’s duffel bag on the floor, he sighed. “So, um, I’m sorry, Jisungie. I’ve been…jealous,” he finally admitted out loud. “Of… Bang Chan.”

“No shit,” Jisung crossed his arms, and he looked offended. “Care to tell me why the hell you would think something like that?”

Minho chewed on his lower lip. “He’s um…older.”

Jisung blinked, unimpressed. “Uhuh.”

“And he works out.”

“So do you.”

“Not like that,” Minho admitted under his breath.

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Hyung, please. Do you think he’s the first attractive, single guy I ever talked to?”

“You think he’s attractive,” Minho stated, and it wasn’t accusatory, more like satisfied that he wasn’t the only one seeing that.

“Yeah, hyung, I have eyes. Doesn’t mean I’m attracted to him.”

Minho stayed silent. He wanted to say more, but he didn’t know how to. 

“And you think just because he’s an older guy who was nice to me and works out, I would leave you?” Jisung’s voice sounds hurt.

“No,” Minho admitted, staring at the floor. “I just, I didn’t know how to feel because you brought him up a lot, and you mentioned your music five minutes into knowing him -”

“He works with that!” Jisung protested.

“- I know, I know,” Minho finally looked up at Jisung’s eyes. They stared at him half-upset, half-sad. “I just. I always listened to your songs first. That…meant something to me,” Minho ducked his head, his body trying to merge with the couch under the weight of his embarrassment. “You never even showed them to anyone else. I thought you spending all that time, talking to someone who shares your passion, could… would sway you.”

Jisung’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding.”

Minho shook his head. “Obviously, I don’t think you’d cheat on me,” he clarified, voice a little smaller. “But I could see your… interest switching over to him. Over time. He’s so nice, and…you know.”

“Hyung.” Jisung frowned, his eyes determined now. “You’re gonna have to listen to something. But it’s gonna make you feel stupid,” he warned.

Minho couldn’t help it, he laughed a little at that. “What? Even more than I do right now?”

Jisung looked at him with pity. “So much more. Apologetic, too. But, you know. I forgive you.”

Minho’s eyebrows raised. What on Earth could Jisung be referring to?

His boyfriend got up and grabbed his laptop from the table. “So, don’t be, like, triggered by the name or anything,” Jisung glanced over at him. “But Chan-hyung sent me the final mix half an hour ago.”

Minho was glad for the warning because he did feel a little triggered about hearing Chan’s name so soon after his vent. “Okay…? The Volcano project?”

“Yeah,” Jisung nodded, pulling up a file. “It was meant to be a birthday surprise.”

Minho felt a chill down his spine. No. No no no no. He couldn’t mean - 

“I didn’t tell you it was my song before because it’s your birthday present,” Jisung blushed a little, but held eye contact. “I wrote it for you.”

Jisung was right. Minho did feel stupid.

“...Oh,” he managed to let out, and Jisung rolled his eyes at him, though it was more fond this time. 

“Here,” he offered headphones. “I listened to it before you got here. Happy early birthday, Minho-hyung.”

Minho already felt stupid. He already felt apologetic and small and ridiculous. Afraid that Jisung would leave him for another guy while he was actually going through a secret creative process just to gift him something, to surprise him for once.

But then Jisung pressed play, and Minho felt overwhelmed.

It wasn’t just Minho’s favorite kind of music. It wasn’t just that the song portrayed Jisung’s beautiful vocals just as well as it showed off his rapping skills.

It was the lyrics.

They were mainly in Korean, and Minho could tell that it was because of him. Whenever Jisung composed in English, Minho had to open up a new tab just for the translator.

But the message?

Minho closed his eyes almost immediately, because he knew that they’d water if he opened them.

The lyrics were…vulnerable wasn’t enough to cover it.

Jisung mentioned not being scared of anything if Minho was with him. He said only Minho saw him completely, scars and all. He sang that Minho could hurt him, burn him and he wouldn’t care. He’d embrace Minho all the same.

His choice was always Minho. Even if he went back hundreds of times. 

Love at a temperature that can melt when touched.

Minho’s tears came even with his eyes closed. He sniffed and tried not to make a big fuss - Jisung had never seen him cry, but then again, he doesn’t think Yongbok had before tonight - but to no avail. He was wrecked before the nail in the coffin:

I can’t live without you. You’re the only one, even if I die. Even if I’m reborn over and over again, it’s only you.

Minho opened his eyes to find Jisung watching him carefully, eyebrows drawn up as if he was scared Minho wouldn’t like it.

The song ended, and Minho slid the earphones off his head gently.

“You were right,” he cleared his throat, voice breaking a little. “I feel stupid.”

Jisung’s face broke into a huge grin. “So, you liked it, huh?”

“I love you so much,” Minho sniffed, hands busy wiping away his own hot tears. His skin around his eyes already red and sensitive from how much crying he did earlier. “I love it. I don’t deserve it, but I love it.”

“Hey, hyungie,” Jisung scooted closer, putting his laptop and the headphones away and approaching Minho slowly, as one would a feral cat. “I wrote it thinking of you. So of course you deserve it.” A pause, then: “You don’t think it’s… a little too much?” He smiled, trying to hide how insecure he felt. 

But Minho always read him so well.

“I think you couldn’t be too much for me even if you tried, Sungie,” he replied honestly, scooting closer too and taking his hand, interlocking their fingers together. “You’re…honestly, a genius. I need to listen to it again, maybe ten thousand times. But, um, about the lyrics…”

Jisung blinked expectantly. 

“There’s nothing you said that I haven’t felt for you for years now.”

Jisung blushed so quickly and completely, his cheeks and ears were rosy within seconds. “Hyung!” He whined, hiding his face in Minho’s shoulder immediately. “You’re ridiculous. Way to steal my thunder.”

Minho chuckled, petting Jisung’s head gently. “I could never. This was the most romantic present in the history of presents. I’m gonna have to propose to you to steal your thunder.”

Minho could feel Jisung still under his touch. “You’re not thinking -” 

“Sadly, no ring on me.”

“Hyung,” Jisung laughed, cuddling closer now that he could. He ended up half on Minho’s lap, but Minho didn’t mind. Jisung could crush him and he’d say thanks.

“I’m sorry, Jisungie,” Minho put his arms around him properly, one hand petting his hair and the other rubbing his back comfortingly. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Or left. I saw your messages just before I called you. I just… needed time to think and calm down, I guess. But I could have just talked to you, you know? Or asked for space. Like a normal adult.”

“But you’re weird,” Jisung stated simply.

Minho stopped his movements. “I’m not weird,” he protested weakly.

“You are,” Jisung sighed contently. “But that’s okay. I like weird.” Jisung burrowed even closer, his arms around Minho’s neck. 

Minho resumed his ministrations, caressing Jisung’s back. They were in comfortable silence for maybe a minute or two. 

“I mean it, you know,” Minho murmured in a soft voice against Jisung’s hair. “I love you so much. And I’m sorry we had a fight.”

“Hyung, that’s okay,” Jisung murmured low like he too didn’t want to disturb their peaceful state. “I forgave you already.”

“It won’t happen again,” Minho guaranteed all the same, kissing Jisung’s forehead. 

Jisung hummed. “We have both screwed up before. It’s okay.” 

“Two wrongs don’t make a right and all that,” Minho said playfully.

Jisung grinned, turning his face so the kisses now went to his cheek. “I just hope you know how crazy it all sounded. Chan-hyung, pfft. Not even if you died. Not even in a parallel universe where you never existed. Not even if we never met. I would just know. He’s not it for me, you are.”

Minho felt a comfortable squeeze in his chest. “I know it sounds crazy now. I heard the song, you know.”

Jisung kept grinning, but he was flushing. “Yeah. I pestered Chan-hyung and Changbin-hyung a lot about the production. It was their idea to add the ‘woaah's in the background, did you like it?”

“I would love it even if you recorded it on your phone. In a basement. With no instruments.”

Jisung slapped his chest weakly. “You’re supposed to say you really feel the difference in production compared to my other stuff! This was done in a pro studio, you know.”

“So I heard,” Minho teased, squeezing Jisung closer in his arms. “I love you so much, jagi. Thank you for my birthday present.”

Jisung’s smile remained as his eyes searched for Minho’s. “Just promise me you’ll tell me next time something bothers you. I had no idea you felt like that. It just came out of nowhere. If I knew you were jealous -”

“Oh, that’s okay, Jisungie,” Minho tapped his hip sheepishly. “You don’t need to stop telling me about your day with Bang Chan or anyone else…it was my problem to deal with, not yours.”

“Oh, no,” Jisung’s eyes glinted dangerously. “If I had known you were jealous and possessive, I would’ve reaaaally leaned into it.”

Minho’s mouth fell open. “You - what?”

“I would’ve teased you so much,” Jisung sighed like it was a lost opportunity. “I bet I could goad you into leaving my neck with a dozen hickeys. Or, like, fuck me in a semi-public place. Do you think we can still -”

“Jisung!” Minho interrupted with a laugh, half-scandalized. “You don’t mean that?”

His boyfriend bit his lower lip coyly. “What? I can’t think it’s hot that you like me so much you literally went a bit crazy just seeing me hang out with someone else?”

That sounded…like a gross oversimplification of Minho’s feelings. But it was not a wrong description of reality, per se.

“You’re ridiculous,” Minho squeezed Jisung’s ass, aiding him in his slow dry hump on Minho’s lap.

“Careful now,” Jisung warned, smile teasing as he leaned in, but did not kiss. “If you call me names you’re not getting any birthday sex.”

Minho huffed playfully, squeezing his ass again. “Running a tight ship, are you?”

“Oh,” Jisung’s hand lowered on Minho’s front, sneaking all the way to his pants. “I like to say I have an iron grip.”