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Minho checked his outfit in the mirror one last time before heading into the kitchen and taking a batch of baked vegetables out of the oven to put them in the blender.
That’s when he heard the apartment door getting unlocked.
“Hyung, I’m home!”
Minho started to smile despite himself. He glimpsed into the hallway where Jisung kicked off his shoes and carelessly threw them in the corner.
The elder had already opened his mouth to scold him about it when his boyfriend threw his arms around him and kissed him as if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks (it had been a few hours) and every bit of irritation immediately died out and got replaced with pure affection.
When they parted and Jisung beamed at him with sparkling eyes, cheeks and nose red from the cold a wave of emotions came crashing down on Minho. How did he ever get so lucky as to call a man this beautiful his boyfriend?
His heart beat so loud in his ears, he almost couldn’t hear it when Jisung said: “Ready to set up the Christmas decorations?”
The smile fell off Minho’s face and his brows furrowed in confusion. “Sung, I was about to leave for my cousin’s birthday party.”
The giddy energy fizzled out of Jisung’s body and the saddest, most disappointed pout replaced his bright grin. “But Hyung, we always put up the deco on December first. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did!”
“No, you didn’t!”
“Yes, I did!”
“When?”
Minho paused to think about it. “Last week.”
“Last week when?”
“I don’t remember when exactly but I definitely told you! I’m one hundred percent sure!” If he was being completely honest … he was like ninety percent sure.
“If you can’t even remember the moment you told me then I don’t believe you.”
Minho started to get irritated. He adored Jisung with all his heart but why was the younger picking a fight about this when they could just set up the stupid decorations some other time?
“You just forgot about it!” He defended himself.
“I did not forget about it! I don’t forget about things like that!”
Minho blinked at him. Once. Twice. “Yesterday you forgot your own age.”
“Because that keeps changing every year!! And it was only for a split second!!!” He was visibly holding himself back from stomping his foot and it would have made Minho laugh if he wasn’t so tense.
The elder ran a hand over his face with a groan. “Jisung, listen. Let’s just decorate when we come back from Japan, okay?”
How Jisung managed to pout even more was beyond Minho at this point. “But that’s in five days!”
“I know, baby. But I can’t change it now, can I?” The elder sighed, sneaking in the nickname as an attempt to appease him.
It seemed to work for a second. Crossing his arms, Jisung’s voice softened. “I know … It’s just that I’ve been looking forward to it all day. If you would have told me beforehand that it wouldn’t work out then I wouldn’t be so disappointed now.”
Annoyance welled up inside Minho. “For fuck’s sake, Jisung! I did tell you about it! Why can’t you just let this go!?”
The disappointment on the younger’s face turned into anger. “Because you keep denying it!”
“Because you keep accusing me of shit that isn’t even true!”
The frown between Jisung’s brows grew deeper and his jaw muscles tightened. Minho hated how he still looked so cute. “Fine! I’ll just put up the damn deco by myself!”
“No, you won’t!”
“Yes, I will!”
The dancer felt himself get more infuriated with each second. But before he could say something he might regret later, he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. “Why don’t you just come to the party with me? Forget about the deco for tonight. Let’s do it when we come home on the sixth, okay?”
“I don’t need a pity invitation! Why didn’t you ask me in the first place?”
“Because it’s in a bar and you hate bars!”
Jisung had already opened his mouth for a snappy comeback when he stopped himself and deflated. Looking away he grumbled. “I do hate bars…”
“So you’re not gonna come?” Minho tried to sound calmer but the irritation was still too evident in his voice.
“No.”
“And you’re gonna set up the deco without me even though it’s no fun that way just because you’re mad at me?”
“Yes.”
Minho scoffed. “Fine. Be stubborn then.” He grabbed his coat, scarf and hat and put on his shoes. “Hope you have a great fucking time putting up the deco alone!” With that he slammed the apartment door and started rushing downstairs just for it to be opened up again a second later by Jisung who yelled: “Hope you have a great fucking time in a stinky ass bar!” Down the hallway then slammed it again.
Of course that brat always needed to have the last word.
Cursing under his breath, Minho checked the time on his phone.
Fantastic. Now he was angry and late.
Everyone else was already there when Minho walked up to the table that had been reserved for their group. Him and his cousin had some mutual friends but there were also a few people Minho didn’t know.
“Hey guys! Sorry for being late! Happy birthday, Yuna!” With that he gave her a hug, took off his outside clothes and sat down in the last empty seat.
“So glad you’re here, Oppa! You okay? You seem a little …”
“I’m fine. There was just a bit of … stress …” He rubbed his temples. God, he was still so pissed at Jisung. How could someone be so fussy?!
“Trouble with the wife?”
Minho narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice. That smug, daunting voice that always sounded like “Everyone listen to me! I’m the funniest person on earth!”
Doyun.
Ugh.
Minho hated Doyun.
Was Yuna still friends with him? Seriously?
The dancer was about to tell him to stop referring to Jisung as “the wife” but dear Lord he was tired of fighting. So tired.
So he just let out a long, annoyed sigh and groaned a “Yes.”
“What happened?” Jeongyeon, who was sitting across from him, asked, looking a bit concerned.
Good job, Minho! Ever the life of the party!
“It’s nothing. We just had a stupid fight. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”
“You didn’t bring the mood down, Oppa! You can talk about it if you want!” Yuna reached over to him to put a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t-” He stopped mid sentence when his phone rang.
It was Jisung.
Minho frowned in confusion. Their fight had been less than twenty minutes ago. It wasn’t like Jisung to come crawling back this soon.
“Hello?”
“H-hyung? Can you please come home?” The younger’s voice was quiet and shaky. Minho’s heart sank.
“Jisung, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“Yes! I fell!”
“You what?”
“I fell and I hit my head and I’m really dizzy!”
Panic settled in Minho’s chest, making his heart race. “Stay where you are! I’m coming home! Can you sit up?” His whole body trembled with fear.
“I can.”
“Good! Do NOT lie down until I get there, okay? You might have a concussion!”
“I’m sorry, Hyung!”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can, yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“I love you!”
“I love you!”
With shaky hands he hung up the phone and almost dropped it as he tried to fumble it back into his pocket.
“What happened?” Yuna asked, Minho’s panic rubbing off on her immediately.
“Jisung’s hurt! He fell and hit his head!”
Adrenaline shot through his veins as he got up and put on his clothes in such a hurry he got tangled in his scarf before he could manage to wrap it up properly.
“Ah, that’s totally something my girlfriend would pull.”
Minho stopped in his tracks and blinked in confusion before he met eyes with Doyun. “What?”
“Faking an injury after a fight so I’ll feel bad for her and forgive her. Making me come home and not letting me have a night out with friends.”
Everyone’s eyes were on Doyun. Then they wandered over to Minho. Then back to Doyun.
Minho wanted to curse him out. Wanted to throw the worst insults he could think of at this asshole’s head for accusing his Jisung of such manipulation tactics. But of course he couldn’t think of anything.
“Jisung would never do anything like that! And I feel SORRY for your girlfriend, she has to put up with you, dickhead!
And stop calling him my wife! He’s my boyfriend! Yes, men can have boyfriends! Get over it!”
He turned to his cousin. “I’m sorry, Yuna! I hope you’ll still have a nice night!”
“No, it’s okay!” She still sounded worried. “Let me know if Jisung’s okay, yeah?”
“I will!”
Without another second of hesitation he sprinted out of the bar and down the streets.
Minho couldn’t feel the cold air piercing through his lungs nor the tears the wind was forcing out of his eyes.
His thoughts had formed into a carousel that kept repeating the same words over and over.
Jisung is hurt. My Jisung is hurt.
As he ripped open the apartment door and stumbled inside, his voice came out in a desperate cry. “Jisung!”
“Hyung!” It sounded from their bedroom. Minho slammed the door shut and ran towards it.
And there on the bedroom floor Jisung sat like the perfect picture of misery. His left hand held onto his right elbow, his face was scrunched up in pain. Next to him were a fallen chair, a box that had “X-mas stuff” written on it, tinsel, a few baubles (some broken some whole) and a porcelain Santa.
Minho dropped onto his knees and grabbed Jisung’s face. “Sungie! Baby, are you okay?” With wide, round eyes that almost made the elder burst into tears on the spot, Jisung nodded and Minho rested their foreheads together, closing his eyes.
Feeling the heat radiate from Jisung’s warm skin against his ice cold own he tried to catch his breath.
Jisung is okay. My Jisung is okay.
“Hyung, did you run?” He sounded just as quiet and shaky as he had on the phone.
“Of course, I fucking ran!” Minho didn’t let go of Jisung but leaned back a little so he could look at him. “What happened?”
“I climbed on the chair to get the Christmas box from the top of the wardrobe but I slipped and fell on my elbow and the box hit me in the head.”
“I told you not to climb on chairs in your socks!”
“I know! I’m sorry!” The younger whined and Minho couldn’t help but wrap his arms around him.
“My clumsy, little idiot.” He whispered as he ran his fingers through Jisung’s hair and Jisung buried his face in his shoulder, though he didn’t return the hug.
“Hyung, my arm hurts so bad!” He croaked out after a short moment of silence.
Minho let go of him. “Let me see.”
He carefully took Jisung’s right arm and tried to roll up the sleeve of his hoodie but the moment he slightly twisted it, Jisung screamed. “Ow!! Ow! Don’t move it, Hyung! Please, don’t move it! It hurts so much!” Minho immediately pulled his hands back, scared to hurt him any further.
“Sorry sorry!”
The younger’s eyes were screwed shut and Minho bit his lip in sympathy pain.
“Sung, we need to get you to the hospital. It might be broken.”
When their eyes met, Jisung’s lower lip wobbled. “I don’t want a broken arm!”
“I know, baby.” Minho took his boyfriend's face in his hand and gently ran a thumb over his cheek. “I’m here, okay? Everything will be fine.” He kissed the younger’s temple, then the knuckles of his left hand.
“Can you stand up? Are you still dizzy?”
Jisung shook his head. “The dizziness went away after a few minutes. I think it was just from the impact of the box.” He got on his knees then slowly and carefully stood up. Minho put his hands on the younger’s waist to assist.
As they made their way out of the bedroom into the hallway, Minho’s brain started to process what had happened.
Their fight.
The bar.
The party, he had obviously ruined.
Yuna.
The phone call.
Doyun.
Doyun.
“Ah, that’s totally something my girlfriend would pull. Faking an injury after a fight so I’ll feel bad for her and forgive her.”
What an asshole, Minho thought.
Though … Jisung hadn’t said anything about his arm on the phone, had he? He had only mentioned that he was dizzy which … seemed to have magically disappeared now? Also how convenient that he was wearing a hoodie so Minho couldn’t see his allegedly injured arm and check for any bruises or swelling. A bit too convenient.
It all seemed very … coincidental.
Minho stopped walking to look at Jisung.
"Hyung?"
With a frown the elder bit his lip. “Sung … did you actually fall off the chair?”
Jisung looked confused. “What do you mean? Yes, I did. That’s why I called.”
Narrowing his eyes at him, Minho kept questioning. “Are you sure you didn’t just say it, so I’d come home and we could make up?”
The quietness between them lasted for a few seconds before the confusion on Jisung’s face turned into pure anger. And Minho’s chest filled with regret.
“What the fuck, Hyung?! Are you serious right now?! You actually think that?!”
If Minho could travel back in time to a few seconds ago and punch himself in the face to stop himself from saying what he had said he absolutely would have.
But he couldn’t.
And now Jisung was yelling. “Are you actually fucking accusing me of faking an injury?! Of lying to you?! Of manipulating you to leave your family member’s birthday party like an immature, toxic asshole would?! Do you see me as some kind of pathetic loser that would do something like that to his boyfriend?!”
Minho lowered his head in shame. Why would he ever consider something like that? Of course Jisung would never lie to him like that. Wouldn’t make him worried for no reason. Wouldn’t abuse his trust.
“I’m sorry, Jisung. I didn’t-”
“Save it! I don’t wanna hear it! Just get me to the fucking hospital!”
He stomped into the hallway.
“Let me help you with your shoes!” Minho tried again.
“I can do it on my own!” The younger snapped.
And he actually somehow managed to put them on with one hand even though he was scrunching up his face with pain the entire time.
Minho took Jisung’s coat off the hanger and held it open for him.
“I said, I can do it on my own!”
“No, you can’t.” There wasn’t any force in Minho’s voice. He knew he had lost every right to be petty for today. And probably for a while.
A pain induced stream of curse words flew out of Jisung’s mouth as they struggled to put on his coat and Minho kept apologizing. For not being able to put on the coat without it hurting and for being the worst boyfriend in the whole entire world.
Jisung wasn’t listening.
Minho helped Jisung get in his car and put a seatbelt on him.
After sitting down behind the wheel he looked over to him with an exhale.
“Jisung, please I am so sorry for even considering-”
“Hyung, just drive!” Jisung sounded almost hysterical. “Please, just drive! Please! My elbow is swelling and it’s pounding like crazy and I think I’m going insane because it hurts so much! So please, just drive!” The yelling turned into desperate sobs.
Tears were streaming down Jisung’s face and Minho didn’t know if they were of anger or of pain. Probably both.
And both were his fault.
So he shut up and did as he was told.
Quiet sniffles disrupted the silence in the car.
Guilt was gnawing on Minho’s insides like worms.
How on earth had he managed to make this situation even worse? Why had he let Doyun get in his head? Doyun! Out of all people!
He had always thought of Doyun as the worst kind of person. But as it turns out, Minho wasn’t any better than him.
He couldn’t remember a time, he had been this angry with himself. What if Jisung would never forgive him? Could Minho even blame him? What if he had broken their trust forever?
The frustration made his skin crawl with heat.
Every sniffle, every whimper from Jisung felt like a punch to Minho’s stomach. If he could only take the pain away from his boyfriend and make it his own, he would. He needed to fix this.
“Do you want me to turn on some music?”
“No.” Jisung’s sharp voice cut the tension between them like a knife.
“Singing might distract you for a bit.”
“Leave me alone!”
There was a second in which Minho considered reaching out for Jisung’s hand but he knew Jisung wouldn’t take the offer.
He wasn’t sure he had ever seen the younger this mad before. Not with him at least.
They spent two hours in the waiting room in total silence.
Minho wanted to offer Jisung his lap to lie down but his boyfriend wouldn’t even look at him. Didn’t even spare a single glance when Minho brought him a glass of water.
When Jisung’s name finally got called he hesitated for a second and Minho half expected him to ask him to come with but then he stood up and walked away without a word.
Minho waited and waited.
And it got later and later.
He texted Yuna to tell her about what had happened. Though he left out the part in which he had accused Jisung of lying to him. He felt too ashamed to admit that to anyone yet.
The dancer had no idea how much time had passed when a nurse came out to him with a tired but friendly smile. “You’re the boyfriend?”
All he could do was nod.
“Han-ssi’s got a sprained elbow. Luckily it’s not broken but a sprain is still very painful and restricting. There is also a bump on his head from the box that fell on him. Our examinations say that it’s not a concussion but we’re going to keep him here until noon just to make sure. He’s not allowed to use his right arm for a while. Does he have someone to take care of him when he gets home?”
“Yes. That’d be me.” Hopefully … if Jisung let him.
“Good. He’s going to need a lot of help.”
“Thank you. Can I see him?”
“He’s in room 161.”
Minho bowed to the nurse before rushing down the hall towards said room number.
With a shaky breath, Minho quietly pressed down the handle and slowly opened the door.
“Sungie?”
Silence.
Minho walked inside and closed the door behind him.
“Jisung?”
The younger was sitting up in the hospital bed, looking out the window with his arm in a sling. Minho’s heart clenched.
“Do you want me to leave? If you don’t want me here, I’ll drive home and pick you up at noon.” His own words sounded foreign to his ears. Broken.
When he was met with no reply again, Minho felt his throat close up.
“Jisung?”
“Don’t.” Jisung’s voice came out thin and fragile. “Please, don’t leave.”
As he reached out his left arm the elder was by his side within a second, hugging him as carefully as he had ever had.
“Baby, I am so sorry, you have no idea! I’m the dumbest person in the whole world for even considering you would ever lie to me!”
They broke the embrace so Minho could look into Jisung’s eyes. “You were injured and I should have been there for you, not make you feel bad. I hurt your feelings and there is no excuse. I will never doubt you again, I promise.”
The exhaustion, the guilt and the relief of Jisung finally talking to him again made tears well up in his eyes.
Jisung wiped them away as they spilled over. “It’s okay, Hyung. I might have overreacted because I was in so much pain.”
“You didn’t overreact one bit. You had every right to be angry. I acted like a complete asshole.”
As Jisung put his hand on Minho's cheek, the elder melted into the touch. And then he said the one thing Minho needed to hear: “I forgive you.”
The dancer exhaled and kissed his wrist.
“Welp.” Jisung cleared his throat. “Guess a sprained elbow is what I get for being a stubborn idiot who tried decorating without you.”
“If we wouldn’t have fought, none of this would have happened. I was so sure, I told you about Yuna’s birthday party but if I actually haven’t then I’m so so sorry!”
“I mean let’s be real. There is a huge chance you did tell me and I just don’t remember. I … tend to be forgetful.”
That got a chuckle out of Minho and it made Jisung smile. “From now on, I’ll make sure to never make any plans on December first. That day is now reserved for Christmas deco only!”
“Ugh, fuck the stupid Christmas deco! We could have just done it when we got home from Japan! I don’t know why I was so obsessed with it in the first place.”
“Well, maybe because you like tradition? Because it makes you feel safe?”
“... That might be it, yeah.”
They hugged for another while, placing kisses onto each other’s necks and cheeks.
“Oh by the way.” Minho leaned back to look at Jisung again. “You’re not allowed to move your right arm, so I need to take care of you for a while.”
The younger grinned. “Well, sucks to be you.”
“Not at all.” Minho grinned back and leaned in a little closer with a seductive whisper. “I get to shower with you and wash your body every day now. Since you can’t do it yourself.”
The cocky grin on Jisung’s face turned into a bashful smile and he quickly looked away. Minho continued: “I also get to brush your teeth and your hair.”
“I can do that with my left hand!”
“Oh, you wouldn’t do it properly. I can’t let that happen.”
Jisung rolled his eyes at him, obviously holding back laughter.
“And I will cook for you and feed you.”
“I can eat with my left hand!” He lightly hit Minho’s shoulder, making him giggle.
“Look how weak that hand is. There is no way you can do anything with that.” As a response Jisung hit him harder, making Minho laugh even more.
“I also get to dress you now.” The elder pretended to think, tapping his chin with his pointer finger. “Hmmm, what outfits should I put you in?”
“Shut up!” Jisung’s face turned beautifully pink in the pale light of the hospital room and he was smiling so widely it made Minho forget about all the worry, the guilt and the bad thoughts he had had in the past few hours.
“Some pretty lingerie maybe? Or a maid dress? Would you like that?”
Letting his head fall onto Minho’s shoulder, Jisung burst into giggles. “Idiot!” The dancer’s heart filled with so much fondness it threatened to explode.
Once they had both calmed down, Minho asked: “Does it still hurt?”
The younger shook his head. “They gave me painkillers so it’s not that bad anymore. I’m okay.”
Minho nodded. “That’s good. Cause if you weren’t, I’d have to kiss it better.”
“Oh, ow! Hyung! I think the painkillers just stopped working! Oh, it hurts! It hurts so bad!”
Jisung dramatically put the back of his hand onto his forehead and it made Minho laugh so hard, it took them a few attempts to manage a proper kiss.