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Summary
He wants to see those dark, feline eyes narrowed in pursuit. He wants to know that for once, he isn't just "Chan’s little brother" or the "annoying kid who needs help with his homework."
But wanting Lee Minho was a death sentence for his pride.
When Jisung had presented as an Omega four years ago, he’d been so sure things would change. He’d waited for Minho’s scent to sharpen when they were in the same room; he’d waited for a lingering look, a protective tilt of the head, a shift in the gravity between them.
He’d steal Minho’s hoodies when they accidentally got left behind in Chan’s apartment, saturating them with his own developing scent, hoping that when he handed them back, Minho’s pupils would blow wide. He’d lingered in doorways, laughed a little too loud at Minho’s dry jokes, and waited, desperate, for the shift. For the moment where Minho’s eyes would darken with something other than exasperated affection.
It never happened.