Work Text:
Monday morning
If there was a personal hell for Han Jisung, it stood 1.80 m tall and at that moment was using his head as an armrest. He had stepped out of his apartment just as Minho stepped out of his, and before he could react, the insufferable man had snatched the keys from his hand and was holding them high, at a height Jisung couldn't reach even on tiptoe. The maneuver lasted three seconds. They had been rehearsing it for years.
"Back off, giant," Jisung snapped, accompanying the order with a slap to Minho's forearm that Minho didn't even bother to dodge.
"Ask me nicely, goblin," Minho replied without looking up from his phone, his thumb sliding across the screen as if there were no angry neighbor standing under his armpit.
He was leaning against the hallway wall with the same nonchalance with which he waited for the elevator when it worked, which was almost never. Jisung knocked his knuckles against his arm again, harder this time. Minho's forearm was tense and his attention fixed on whatever he was reading. He didn't even blink.
He hated him. Hated him with every inch of his five foot six, which wasn't that much but was more than enough to want to sink his teeth into him. They had known each other since second year of secondary school.
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The new boy sat alone.
He'd been in class a week, and Jisung had heard his voice only to say 'present' during roll call. He was tall. Very tall for fifteen. He had black bangs falling over his eyes and a way of staring straight ahead that made Jisung uneasy. He didn't look at anyone. He didn't talk to anyone. At break he would sit on the bench by the fence, take out a notebook, and start drawing or writing; Jisung wasn't sure which, because he never got close enough.
"He's alone again," Changbin said. He shared a desk with Jisung and had already eaten half his lunch before break.
"Yeah," Jisung said.
"Should we say something to him?"
"I don't know. He's weird."
"He's new. New kids are always a bit weird."
Jisung finished his juice in one gulp and threw the carton in the bin. The new boy turned a page of his notebook. He was hunched over the paper, shoulders rounded, and something about that posture bothered Jisung more than was reasonable. As a child he used to bring home the kids who cried in the park; at fifteen the impulse was exactly the same, only it wasn't something you admitted out loud.
"I'm going over," he said.
"Where?"
"To say something to him."
Changbin looked at him wide-eyed but didn't try to stop him. He knew Jisung. Once something got into his head, there was no stopping him.
Jisung crossed the courtyard with his hands in his pockets. The new boy didn't look up until Jisung's shadow fell across his notebook. Then he raised his head very slowly and found Jisung standing in front of him, the sun at his back.
"Hi," Jisung said.
Silence.
"You're Minho, right?" he pressed. "From our class."
"Yes."
"Okay. Well, that's it. You're Minho from our class."
Minho looked at him. Said nothing. Jisung rocked on his heels and, not really knowing why, blurted out the first thing that came to mind:
"You're kind of scary, you know that?"
Minho blinked. For a moment Jisung thought he was going to get angry, or close the notebook and walk away. But no. The left corner of his lips moved. Half a millimeter. Maybe less.
"Well, you're funny," Minho said, and his voice came out deeper than Jisung had expected.
"Funny?"
"Funny. With that hair."
Jisung instinctively touched his bangs. Then he smiled, because he didn't know how to do anything else when someone fired back.
"Okay, giant. You win that one."
"Giant?"
"Look at you. You're enormous. You look like a lighthouse."
"And you're a goblin."
Jisung laughed, surprised. He liked that the new boy had a quick comeback.
"Well, goblin or not, we'll be waiting for you at the bench by the fountain tomorrow. We always sit there. In case you don't want to be alone."
Minho was quiet for a moment. He looked at Jisung, then at the bench by the fountain, then back at Jisung.
"I don't mind being alone."
"Yeah, but I do. So tomorrow you sit with us."
Jisung turned and walked back to his group without giving him time to answer. Changbin was gesturing wildly, asking what had happened. Jisung shrugged, but when he got back to the bench, he was smiling.
The next day, Minho sat down at the bench by the fountain.
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Give me the keys or I'll be late," Jisung said, tapping his watch, though Minho wasn't looking. "I have class in fifteen minutes."
"Not my problem. Leave earlier." Minho was still on his phone, but his thumb had gone still. Now he was reading something more carefully, or pretending to. With him you never knew.
"I left on time. You stopped me."
"Then leave earlier tomorrow." The tone was flat, almost bored.
Jisung jumped. He drove his heels into the floor, stretched his arm as far as it would go, and Minho raised his hand one centimeter higher without taking his eyes off the screen. No effort. Just the exact geometry of someone who had long since calibrated where Jisung's arms ended.
"You're an idiot," Jisung said as he landed, slightly breathless.
"You're a goblin." Minho scrolled past a message, or whatever he was looking at, and took his time. "What, no 'you shitty giant'? You left that bit out."
"I didn't leave it out. I was saving it."
"Right."
"It's not a compliment."
"I know. I don't care." This time he did look up. Directly. And his thumb had stopped moving on the screen.
Minho put his phone in his back pocket and lowered his hand. Jisung held out his palm at once, but Minho didn't give the keys back. He held them in front of Jisung's face, barely swinging them.
"Ask me nicely," he said, dropping his voice a step, for no apparent reason. The keys barely jingled.
Jisung gritted his teeth. He counted to three silently, because he owed that much to his therapist, and then let out:
"Give me the keys, please, Your Imperial Highness."
"Better."
The keys dropped into his palm. Jisung pocketed them while Minho turned back to his door, and in that turn he caught the left corner of his mouth, that millimeter and a half of smile. It meant nothing.
The door closed.
Jisung went downstairs muttering a repertoire of insults he planned to unload on him the moment they were face to face at university. He had been storing material for five years and wasn't going to sell himself short.
He didn't make it to the front door. His phone buzzed in his pocket before he set foot on the street. He took it out and found the group chat on fire. Changbin had sent a photo. It was always Changbin. There was always a photo.
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📱 Chat: Uni Survival: Extended Edition 💬
Changbin: [image: blurry photo of Jisung jumping while Minho holds something up in the air]
Changbin: contemporary art exhibition: the goblin and the lighthouse 🎨📸
Hyunjin: MASTERPIECE 😭😭😭 I need a framed copy for the living room
Jisung: @Changbin DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW 🤬
Seungmin: why do you always jump when there are stairs?
Hyunjin: stairs don't have epic, seungmin, open your eyes 😤
Changbin: exactly, learn to appreciate art 🙄
Minho: .
Felix: minho, sweetheart, a period is not an answer, say something nice 🥺💛
Minho: The goblin was late.
Felix: that's better 🙂
Jisung: HE'S MOCKING ME WITH THAT PERIOD 🤬
Seungmin: they're the same thing
Jisung: I'M GOING TO GOBLIN YOU 🤬🤬🤬
Jeongin: is 'to goblin' even a verb? 🤔
Seungmin: no, it's an empty threat
Hyunjin: the constant repetition of an empty threat turns it into a performance 🎭✨
Changbin: hyunjin shut up, you sound like a fine arts major
Hyunjin: AND YOU SOUND LIKE A STAIRWELL PAPARAZZI 📸🚨
Chan: Guys, see you in class. Put your phone away or I'll be late too 🙏
Minho: .
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Jisung locked his phone and pocketed it harder than necessary, but without breaking anything. He stepped outside just as the traffic light turned red. He was going to be late. All because of that giant, who had had him jumping on the landing like a terrier and then had the nerve to open the group chat, look at the photo, and contribute, of all the things he could have contributed: the goblin was late. With a period.
It wasn't funny.
He crossed when the light turned green and promised himself that tomorrow, if Minho took his keys again, he would pour coffee through his window. He'd been owed that for months. Minho opened the living room window every morning after showering, predictable as a Swiss watch with bangs, and from the opposite pavement the trajectory was textbook. The only problem, he admitted as he calculated the parabola, was that his arms launched from five foot six and the building's windows were on the second floor. But he wouldn't miss.
Monday noon
The campus was quiet at that hour, the midday light falling across the benches outside the cafeteria. The group always met there, at the same patch of shade they had claimed since first year. Changbin was sitting on the back of the bench because he never used furniture for its intended purpose. Hyunjin occupied the far end with his legs crossed and a coffee that had gone cold half an hour ago, from which he drank with great solemnity. Seungmin and Jeongin shared a bench in silence, each on their phone, though Jeongin looked up when Jisung approached and waved. Jisung waved back half-heartedly.
"You're late," Changbin said without looking at him.
"I had a neighborhood situation," Jisung replied, dropping into the empty space on the bench.
"That means Minho'll be late too," Hyunjin said, taking another sip of cold coffee. "Punctuality is an art not everyone appreciates."
"Punctuality is not an art, it's an obligation," Seungmin said without looking up from his phone.
"Everything is art if you look at it right," Hyunjin replied, and Changbin threw a crumpled napkin at his face. Hyunjin caught it with two fingers and let it fall to the ground.
Chan and Felix arrived together a few minutes later. Felix had a bag of cookies he'd baked over the weekend and set it in the middle of the bench on top of Jeongin's backpack. Jisung reached for them on instinct, but Felix swatted his hand away gently.
"Those are for Saturday," Felix said, settling into Chan's lap because there were no free spots left. Chan put an arm around his waist without missing a beat. "Well, some are for Saturday. The rest are for now. The now ones are in the other bag."
"There are two bags," Jeongin said, already reaching into the second one.
"There are two bags," Felix confirmed, ruffling his hair.
Jisung grabbed a cookie before Changbin could intercept it and took a bite. It was good. Too good. Felix's cookies always got in the way of a perfectly good grudge, and today he needed the grudge to survive his last two classes.
"Saturday is Minho's birthday," Felix announced, unwrapping another cookie for Chan. "I thought we'd celebrate at ours. Cake, music, up to the rooftop for the fireworks. There's a festival this Saturday, did you know? They overlap."
"I'm going to cry," Hyunjin said, and no one doubted it.
"You've been crying since you woke up," Seungmin said.
"The light today is very beautiful. Not my fault."
"What do we get him?" Jeongin asked, already on his second cookie, crumbs at the corner of his mouth. "Something cat-related? Minho likes cats."
"He likes cats and silence," Changbin said, pointing his chin at Jisung. "So don't get him anything loud."
Jisung wiped the crumbs on his trousers and said nothing, which was exactly the sort of response that irritated Changbin most. But then Minho appeared from the direction of the library, folder under his arm and his bangs falling over his eyes, and Jisung forgot about irritating Changbin.
"Oh, the giant's having a birthday?" he called out, just loud enough for Minho to hear when he arrived. "Not sure I want to be in the same room as someone who blocks the sun."
Minho stopped by the bench. Looked Jisung up and down. Adjusted the folder under his arm. Took a few seconds.
"Better that way. I won't have to crouch down to see you."
Changbin burst out laughing. Hyunjin clapped three times very quickly and sat up straighter on the bench as if about to take a victory lap. Jisung opened his mouth to respond, but Seungmin beat him to it.
"Five years and nothing has changed. Not a single new brain cell between the two of you."
"Thank you, Seungmin," Chan said, squeezing Felix's shoulder as Felix started pulling more cookies from the second bag.
Jisung got up. Shook the crumbs off his sweatshirt, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and announced he was heading to the library to get ahead on the statistics assignment. He didn't look at Minho as he passed. Minho was still standing by the bench, not sitting, waiting for Jisung to move far enough away to take his spot.
He found a free table at the back of the reading room. Dropped his backpack, took out his laptop and his phone, and unlocked the screen before opening the statistics document. Felix had posted the event in the chat.
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📱 Chat: Uni Survival: Extended Edition 💬
Felix: SATURDAY 7pm AT OURS 🎂🎉 celebrating the giant's birthday and anyone who doesn't come misses my cookies and my unconditional love 💛
Hyunjin: I'll be crying before, during, and after. No one panic 😭✨
Changbin: I'm bringing cat-shaped candles. they're ridiculous, like him 🐱🕯️
Seungmin: who's bringing the cake?
Felix: I'll buy it, but I accept financial and emotional contributions
Chan: I'll cover half the cake and half the patience required.
Minho: Nothing is needed.
Jisung: I'm playing the 'leave early' card 🙋
Minho: The goblin is not invited.
Jisung: now I'm going just to annoy you
Minho: Then I'm not going.
Felix: you both show up or I'll tell everyone about the storage room in second year 🙂
Jeongin: WHAT HAPPENED IN THE STORAGE ROOM I'VE BEEN ASKING FOR THREE YEARS 🤔🤔🤔
Chan: Nothing.
Changbin: absolutely nothing. nothing happened.
Hyunjin: lol nothing happened lol 😅
Seungmin: some files fell over and that was it.
Jeongin: I don't believe any of you
Jeongin: files 🤨
Felix: doesn't matter what happened. you're both going and that's final 💛
Jisung: we'll see
Minho: We'll see.
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Jisung set his phone face down on the table. Rummaged through his backpack until he found a pen and a loose sheet of paper. He wrote down three gift ideas. Crossed out two. Circled the third and folded it into the pocket of his sweatshirt. Then he opened the statistics document, stared at the first dataset, and decided that standard deviations could wait until tomorrow. He closed the laptop.
Tuesday afternoon
The library at three in the afternoon was the only place on campus where Jisung could actually concentrate, as long as no one took the tables at the back. That afternoon he'd been lucky. The table by the window was free, the outlet worked, and the only sounds were the hum of the air conditioning and the turning of pages from a law student who'd been there since Jisung arrived. He laid out his laptop, his notes, and a coffee he'd bought on the way, and set about finishing the statistics assignment he'd been putting off since Monday. Cell B12 had had it out for him since Monday. But today he was closing it.
Twenty minutes later he looked up because someone had stopped in front of his table. The only black jeans he would recognize anywhere on campus were Minho's.
"No room," Jisung said before Minho could open his mouth.
Minho made a show of scanning the empty tables around them. He counted six with his finger, out loud, and when he reached the seventh he turned back to Jisung.
"There are seven free tables, goblin."
"Then sit at one of those seven."
"This one has an outlet. The one on the back wall doesn't work. The one at the back window has a drip above it. Do you need a technical report or will that do?"
Minho dropped his backpack onto the chair across from him and sat down without waiting for an answer. He pulled out his laptop, a notebook, and a black pencil case that he set perfectly parallel to the edge of the table. Jisung watched the maneuver with arms folded and coffee steaming beside his elbow.
"What, giant, nothing better to do than steal my air?"
"What, goblin, need a cushion to reach the table? You're looking a bit short in that chair."
Jisung adjusted himself in his chair with a sharp movement and went back to his notes. He was not going to give him the satisfaction. Five minutes passed in silence, then ten. Minho typed in bursts, with long pauses between sentences, and Jisung found himself counting the seconds between keystrokes instead of reading the graph in front of him.
At one point he reached for his pen without taking his eyes off the screen. He felt around the table, but the pen wasn't where he'd left it. He felt to the left, then to the right, and when he raised his head he found Minho holding it between his index finger and thumb.
"Looking for this?"
"Give it."
"And the magic word?"
"Give it or I throw the coffee at you."
"That's not a magic word. That's a threat."
"That's a promise."
Minho set it in his palm with a dry little tap and went back to his typing. Jisung muttered under his breath and started underlining a column of data harder than necessary. The pen squeaked against the paper. The law student at the next table looked up with an unfriendly expression.
"Squeaking," Minho said without looking up from his notebook.
"I'm not squeaking."
"The pen. The pen is squeaking."
"Then don't listen."
"I can't not hear. Hearing is involuntary."
"Then cover your ears."
"I'm not covering my ears in a library. It's your pen making noise, not me."
Jisung put the pen down on the table with a thud and rubbed his face with both hands. Cell B12 was still blank. Minho had made it half a page in his notebook, in that small, tidy handwriting Jisung knew from the notes he'd copied off him in secondary school. Five years of notes, small, neat, with margin comments that had nothing to do with anything but that Jisung had always read anyway.
"Do you remember the storage room?" Minho said suddenly, not looking up from his notebook. The pen kept moving.
Jisung tensed. He let his shoulders drop and leaned back in his chair.
"No."
"That was fast."
"I just don't remember."
"I do. It was your fault, by the way."
"It wasn't my fault. It was Changbin's. Changbin locked us in."
"Changbin closed the door. You were the one who climbed the shelving unit."
Jisung opened his mouth. Closed it. Picked up the coffee with both hands and took a sip that burned his tongue. Minho turned a page of his notebook slowly, smoothed it with his palm, and kept writing.
"Felix won't say anything," Minho said, and this time he did look up. He set the pen on the notebook, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. "He's just messing with us."
"I know." Jisung turned the coffee cup in his hands, looking at the dark liquid.
"But Jeongin keeps asking."
"I know that too."
"And one day he'll find out."
Jisung rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. The coffee cup tipped. He caught it with two fingers before it could spill and pushed it aside, out of the danger zone.
"If Jeongin finds out about the storage room, I'm pouring your coffee through the window. Not tomorrow. Tonight."
"You already had the coffee-through-the-window plan scheduled for tomorrow." Minho raised an eyebrow.
"Well, tonight then. And tomorrow too. Two coffees. One for the storage room and one for the keys."
"That's harassment." Minho picked up his own coffee, which had been cold on the table for half an hour, and took a sip.
"That's justice."
Minho held his gaze. He didn't blink. Neither did Jisung. The hum of the air conditioning switched off at that exact moment and the whole library held its breath. Or so it seemed to Jisung.
"Deal," Minho said, and set his coffee down on the table with a thud that echoed in the silence.
"Deal on what?"
"The coffee. If Jeongin finds out, I accept it."
"You don't have to accept anything." Jisung shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a threat, not a contract."
"I'm accepting it anyway." Minho shrugged and picked up the pen again. He twirled it between his fingers before setting it back down. "I'll sign wherever needed."
Jisung snorted so loudly that the law student looked up again, this time with even less goodwill than before. Minho lowered his head to his notebook and kept writing. The left corner of his mouth was trembling. Jisung decided not to mention it, because mentioning it was giving him the satisfaction, and giving the giant any satisfaction was something he refused to do even if he owed him five years of notes. He gripped the pen harder than necessary and underlined a column of data he had already underlined.
A while later, Jisung moved his coffee to make room for Minho, who had just spread a mind map across half the table. Minho looked at the coffee, then the space, then Jisung.
"Thanks."
"It's self-interest. If you complain about the space I can't concentrate."
"Sure."
They kept going in silence. The air conditioning came back on with a distant click. Minho wrote and crossed out, wrote and crossed out, and the scrape of the eraser against paper was the only thing Jisung could hear above the sound of his own typing. He read the same line from the graph four times. On the fifth he understood why it wasn't going in.
Around five, Minho closed his laptop and started packing up. Jisung was still fighting with cell B12, which still wasn't closing, but he'd stopped caring. He'd close it tomorrow. Or the day after. The statistics weren't going anywhere. Minho slung his backpack over his shoulder, paused by Jisung's chair, and stood there with his weight on one leg.
"That sweatshirt suits you," he said, nodding at it with his chin.
Jisung looked up. It took him a second to react. He looked down at his own sweatshirt as if he'd forgotten which one he was wearing. The grey one with the university logo, faded from so many washes. Nothing special. He raised his head to answer, but Minho had already turned and was walking away.
"Shut up, giant," he replied on reflex, but it came out flat and late.
Minho adjusted his backpack and left.
Jisung stared at the library door for a long time after Minho had walked through it. He touched the sleeve of his sweatshirt without thinking. Then he closed his laptop, put away his notes, and drank the last of the coffee, cold. He pulled his backpack out from under the chair and took longer than necessary to zip it up.
Tuesday night
Jisung had been staring at the ceiling for forty minutes. It wasn't a particularly interesting ceiling, just a white expanse with a damp patch in the top right corner that he had been promising to fix for months and that was still there, spreading very slowly. He turned toward the wall, but the wall was worse because Minho's apartment was on the other side of it, and even though he couldn't hear anything, knowing he was there kept him awake. He turned back toward the bedside table and unlocked his phone. The screen lit up his face with a white light that made him squint. He opened the group chat.
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Chat: Uni Survival: Extended Edition 💬
Jisung: anyone awake?
Seungmin: no
Jisung: you hate me
Seungmin: a little
Hyunjin: [48-second voice note]
Jisung: I'm not listening to that
Hyunjin: it's a reflection on the loneliness of insomnia 😔
Changbin: it's two in the morning, hyunjin, put the poetry away
Hyunjin: art doesn't care about time zones
Changbin: art might not, but my sleep schedule does
Felix: insomnia, sungie? 🥺
Jisung: no, I was just staring at the ceiling for fun
Felix: and Minho? can't sleep either?
Jisung: how would I know, I'm not his babysitter
Felix: you literally live next door. you could peek out and check 🙂
Jisung: I'm not peeking
Changbin: COWARD
Jeongin: hyung if you don't peek you'll wonder about it all night 🤔
Jisung: I'm not wondering about anything. I'm fine. going to sleep.
Seungmin: seen
Hyunjin: he went to peek 😏
Jisung: I DID NOT PEEK
Felix: of course not, sungie 💛 sleep well
Chan: Those with class tomorrow, go to sleep. Those without, also go to sleep. Good night.
Changbin: good night, goblin. don't dream about giants
Jisung: I'm going to goblin you
Changbin: you goblin me and I'm sending another photo tomorrow. I have archive footage
Jisung: WHAT FOOTAGE??
Changbin: good night, Jisung 🙂
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Jisung locked his phone with a sharp flick of his thumb and dropped it onto the pillow. Archive footage. Changbin had archive footage. Of course he did, because Changbin had been documenting every encounter, every fight, every frustrated jump toward keys that were always just out of reach, for five years. Jisung knew those folders. Not because he'd seen them, but he knew. Tomorrow he'd delete Changbin's camera roll. Or hide his charger.
He turned toward Minho's wall and listened. Just silence. Minho would be sleeping soundly while Jisung kept tossing between the sheets, and that 'suits you' from the library kept bouncing around his head every time he closed his eyes. An old sweatshirt with a faded logo he'd been washing since first year. He shoved the pillow hard and turned the other way. He squeezed his eyes shut. He made himself stay still.
It didn't work.
Wednesday night
Jisung had been lying awake for half an hour, staring at the damp patch on the ceiling, and the damp patch stared back without offering any solutions. He got up on the pretext of getting water, but when he reached the hallway he veered toward the front door instead. The rooftop helped him clear his head when insomnia had him beat. He climbed the stairs dragging his flip-flops against the concrete steps, and at the top he found the door ajar. In that building, the only one who came up to the rooftop at this hour was Minho. He pushed the door open with his shoulder. If the giant was there, all the better: he could give him back what he'd said at the library.
Minho was leaning against the railing, facing away, elbows on the metal bar and his weight shifted onto his right leg. The streetlights cut his silhouette against the sky. Jisung walked over intending to startle him, but Minho spoke before he could.
"No flip-flops," he said, not turning around.
Jisung looked down at his bare feet on the cold concrete and flexed his toes against the ground before answering.
"I have flip-flops. I'm wearing them." He lifted one foot to show the sole of his shower flip-flop, barely attached to his heel.
Minho turned his head and glanced at the footwear before looking forward again.
"Those are shower flip-flops. You're going to catch a cold."
"I'm not catching a cold. My immune system is fine." Jisung came to stand beside him, resting his forearms on the railing, and nudged him with his elbow.
"Last month you had a fever from drinking a cold milkshake."
"That was a virus. Completely unrelated to the milkshake." Jisung raised a finger, categorical. "The milkshake was good."
Minho turned to look at him. His bangs were messy and he was wearing a black sweatshirt without logos that was slightly too big on him. Jisung held his gaze for a moment before leaning out over the railing, arms dangling over the edge and his chin resting on the cold metal.
"Can't sleep either, giant?"
"No." Minho shook his head and looked out over the city again.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not tired," he shrugged, the smallest movement.
"That's not a reason."
"It's the only one I need."
Jisung let the silence fill the space between them. The city stretched out below, lights blinking, the distant murmur of a lone car somewhere. From the rooftop you could see the supermarket sign on the corner and the park where they sometimes met on weekends. The swing was moving by itself, pushed by the wind. Jisung gestured vaguely toward the park.
"That swing's still broken. The one that squeaks. Changbin fell off it in second year, remember?"
"Hyunjin filmed it." Minho let out a short laugh, barely a snort. "The video's still in the chat. Must have a hundred views by now."
"A hundred and twelve. I've kept count."
"Of course you have."
Minho ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs off his eyes. He fiddled with the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve, pulling at a loose thread along the seam. Jisung watched from the corner of his eye. He knew that gesture. Minho only pulled at loose threads when he was about to say something he didn't know how to start.
"Earlier. In the library," Minho said at last, twisting the thread around his index finger. "The storage room."
"What about it." Jisung shifted slightly toward him, hip against the railing.
"That it wasn't your fault. It was both of ours." Minho let go of the thread and rubbed the back of his neck. "You climbed the shelves and I didn't tell you not to."
Jisung straightened. He looked at him for a second, eyebrows slightly raised.
"You've never said that before."
"No." Minho gripped the railing with both hands. "Because before I couldn't."
"And now you can?"
"We're on a rooftop in the middle of the night." He looked up at the sky, at the antenna on the building opposite, at nothing in particular. "More things come out up here."
Jisung let out half a laugh and leaned his chin on his arms again.
"What else comes out?"
Minho took his time answering. He straightened, let go of the railing, and pushed his hands into his sweatshirt pockets. Then he turned and leaned back against the bar, eyes on the rooftop door.
"Sometimes I feel like people only see the height. The look on my face." He lifted one hand from his pocket and gestured at himself, head to toe, before putting it back. "I walk into a room and people go quiet. Not because they respect me. Because they can't tell if I'm going to bite."
"You don't bite," Jisung said, nudging him with his shoulder.
"I know. But they don't."
Jisung turned as well, leaning his back against the railing and tilting his head back. He looked at the sky for a moment before speaking.
"Well, I'd kill for anyone to take me seriously. You walk in and the room goes silent. With me, people ruffle my hair. Give me little pats. Like I'm the team mascot."
"At least they touch you," Minho said, his voice softer now, without a trace of mockery. "Nobody pats me. No one does."
Jisung turned his head and looked at him. Minho was still staring straight ahead, his shoulders pulling in slightly inside his sweatshirt. Jisung knocked his shoulder against his, harder this time, and waited for Minho to turn before he spoke.
"No, I insult you. Which is better."
Minho laughed. A real laugh, not the earlier snort. It shook his shoulders and dropped his guard. Jisung felt the rooftop air get a little lighter in his lungs. They stayed like that a while, shoulder to shoulder, looking at the city in silence. The supermarket sign went dark. The swing in the park went still. The traffic noise dissolved into a hum that was barely audible.
Minho pushed off the railing and stretched, rolling his shoulders back. Jisung thought he was leaving, but Minho only took one step toward the door before he stopped. He turned halfway.
"Hey, goblin."
Jisung lifted his head.
"Thanks."
"For what?" Jisung frowned, not quite following.
"For coming up." Minho nodded toward the rooftop door, toward the stairs Jisung had climbed dragging his flip-flops.
Jisung looked away. He licked his lips and shrugged.
"Shut up, giant."
Minho gave that millimeter and a half of smile and pushed open the rooftop door. Before he disappeared through the threshold, he turned one last time.
"Don't stay out too long. You'll actually catch a cold and it'll be my fault."
"It's always your fault," Jisung called back, raising his voice over the noise of the door swinging shut.
"I know."
The door closed all the way and Jisung was alone. He stepped away from the railing, walked a few paces toward the middle of the rooftop, and stopped to look at the dark supermarket sign. He counted to twenty. Then he crouched down, adjusted his flip-flops, and walked back downstairs to his apartment. That night he fell asleep without staring at the ceiling.
Thursday morning
Thursday arrived with weak sunshine and a suspicious calm that put Jisung on edge from the first minute. He got to class without running into Minho on the landing, technically a win, but it didn't taste like one. He sat in his usual seat, took out his laptop, and waited for the statistics professor to finish wrestling with the projector. Minho walked in five minutes late, his bangs still damp from the shower and his folder under his arm, and sat down two rows back without looking at anyone. Jisung knew because he heard the folder hit the desk. He didn't turn around.
Next to him, Changbin was drumming his fingers on the keyboard without typing anything, and the moment the professor turned away to scribble on the board he leaned toward Jisung.
"Something's wrong with the giant," he whispered.
"Don't ask me," Jisung said, not looking up from his screen.
"He hasn't looked at anyone since he walked in. Normally he looks at everyone with that intimidating face of his. Today he's not looking at anyone with any kind of face. That's worse."
Jisung turned for a second, on the pretext of fishing a pen from his backpack. Minho's gaze was fixed on the window, his fingers motionless on the keyboard. He wasn't taking notes. Minho always took notes. Jisung went back to his laptop and typed three lines of code that made no sense. He deleted them and was left with the cursor blinking at the margin.
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
📱 Chat: Uni Survival: Extended Edition 💬
Changbin: minho's been very quiet today
Changbin: too quiet
Changbin: something feels off 🚩
Hyunjin: he's in love
Hyunjin: you can see it in the aura ✨🔮
Hyunjin: don't look at me like that
Hyunjin: the aura doesn't lie
Hyunjin: well you can't look at me it's a chat
Hyunjin: but you get what I mean
Seungmin: or he slept badly
Seungmin: not everything is the aura, hyunjin
Hyunjin: he slept badly BECAUSE HE'S IN LOVE 😤
Changbin: hyunjin forget the aura and tell me if you've noticed it too
Hyunjin: I've noticed
Hyunjin: jisung's acting weird too 🤔
Jisung: I'm not acting weird
Jisung: I'm perfectly fine
Jeongin: you haven't insulted minho hyung all day 🤔
Jisung: so what
Jisung: maybe I don't feel like it today
Changbin: now that is serious
Changbin: call 911 🚑
Felix: leave them alone
Felix: everyone has their days 💛
Chan: Felix is right
Chan: And it's their week
Chan: Let him stress if he wants to
Changbin: @Minho say something so we know you're alive
Minho: .
Changbin: thanks for nothing
Changbin: one period
Changbin: he sent me a period
Changbin: I'm deeply offended
Hyunjin: he sent a period
Hyunjin: he's in love
Hyunjin: confirmed ✨
Seungmin: he sent a period because you're being annoying
Hyunjin: minho's periods are the secret language of love
Hyunjin: someday you'll all understand
Chan: Guys, seriously, put your phones away, the professor's coming in
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Jisung read the chat twice. The second time he skipped past Hyunjin's messages and landed on Jeongin's. He hadn't insulted Minho all day. True. He hadn't spoken to him at all either. It was nothing. He just didn't feel like it. He pocketed his phone and forced himself to pay attention to the professor, who was saying something about normal distributions.
Minho spent the rest of the morning with the same absent expression. At lunch he excused himself with a vague 'things to get ahead on' and went home alone. The group stayed on their usual bench with the cookies Felix had brought again and a strange silence no one wanted to break. Changbin spoke first.
"Something happened," he said.
"Nothing happened," Jisung said, biting into a cookie.
"If nothing happened, why did you go red?"
Jisung choked. A dry cough that had him pressing his fist to his mouth.
"See?" Felix held out his water bottle. "Drink."
"You see it," Hyunjin pointed at Jisung. "You see it, you see it, I said so."
"Shut up," Seungmin muttered, waving a vague hand.
Jisung took a long drink. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, and when he lowered the bottle he found Changbin waiting for an answer.
"I didn't go red. It was warm."
"It's eighteen degrees," Changbin said.
"Exactly. It was warm inside my body."
Changbin blinked. Hyunjin laughed. Seungmin shook his head very slowly, with the expression of someone who has just witnessed the most absurd excuse in human history, and Felix patted Jisung on the back. Chan, at the far end of the bench, put his face in his hand.
"Sure, sungie. Internal warmth. Very common condition."
Jisung pushed Felix's hand away and stood up.
"I'm going to class."
"There's still twenty minutes," Seungmin said.
"Then I'll be early."
He picked up his backpack and headed toward the Statistics building without looking back. As he walked, he heard Hyunjin saying something about 'the most obvious romantic tension in the Northern Hemisphere' and Changbin replying with a flat 'please, just stop.' He didn't turn around.
Meanwhile, Minho was walking home with his phone in his hand and Felix's chat open. He typed and deleted three times. On the fourth attempt, he sent it.
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Private chat: Minho → Felix
Minho: Lix
Felix: tell me, love
Minho: Do you think people see me as a freak?
Minho: serious question
Felix: people in general, no
Felix: someone specific
Felix: and no, that specific someone doesn't see you as a freak
Minho: He's been calling me giant since we were fifteen
Felix: and you've been calling him goblin
Felix: and neither of you has missed a single argument in five years
Felix: that's not exactly hate, minho
Minho: Yeah
Minho: He's coming Saturday, isn't he
Felix: what do you think
Minho: That he is
Felix: so there you go
Felix: trust it
Felix: and get some sleep, you look like you haven't closed your eyes
Minho: Thanks
Felix: 💛
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Minho put his phone in his pocket and walked faster. Trust it. As if it were easy to trust that on Saturday Jisung would show up, all five foot six of him, and that habit of jumping for things just beyond his reach. He pushed his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and crossed the junction just before the light turned red. Saturday was two days away, and two days felt like forever.
Friday afternoon
On Friday afternoon Jisung walked out of the shop with a small bag and moved faster than usual down the street, for no particular reason. Inside was a tiny stuffed cat, the kind that fits in the palm of your hand, and a star-shaped keyring. The cat had asymmetrical eyes and one ear bigger than the other, and he had liked it precisely for that. It reminded him of Minho. An imperfect cat for a giant who stole keys and sent single periods to the group chat. Minho's birthday was Saturday. Jisung was going to give him this.
He opened his backpack with both hands and tucked the bag into the bottom, wedging it between his folder and his pencil case so it wouldn't get squashed. He slung the backpack on and headed toward home. Halfway there he caught himself whistling a song he didn't remember hearing. He stopped when he saw his reflection in the café window, but kept walking with the same energy, not giving it any more thought.
Two streets back, Jeongin had just come out of the stationery shop with a new notebook and a black marker. He paused at the traffic light and then saw it: Jisung coming out of a gift shop with a blue bag that he tucked into his backpack with both hands. Then he watched him head off up the street, whistling. Jeongin narrowed his eyes. He took out his phone and opened the chat that had neither Minho nor Jisung in it.
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
🕵️ Chat: Operation Goblin-Giant 👀
Jeongin: guys
Jeongin: I just saw jisung hyung
Jeongin: coming out of a gift shop 🎁
Changbin: WHAT
Changbin: @Jeongin describe the bag immediately
Hyunjin: was it small?
Hyunjin: tell me it was small
Jeongin: it was small
Jeongin: he put it in his backpack with both hands
Hyunjin: I'M DYING
Hyunjin: it's for minho
Hyunjin: IT'S FOR MINHO 😭😭😭
Seungmin: Jeongin, could you see what was inside?
Jeongin: no
Jeongin: but it was a blue bag with little stars on it
Felix: oh my god 💛
Changbin: little stars
Changbin: the goblin bought something with little stars for the giant
Hyunjin: POETRY
Hyunjin: PURE ART
Chan: Guys, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We don't know yet if it's for Minho.
Changbin: @Chan come on
Changbin: who else would it be for
Seungmin: changbin's right
Seungmin: it's for minho
Felix: what do you think it is?? 🤔
Hyunjin: an engagement ring
Changbin: hyunjin let's take a breath
Hyunjin: I WILL NOT TAKE A BREATH
Seungmin: a stuffed animal
Seungmin: it's definitely a stuffed animal
Changbin: I'm going with cat stuffed animal
Changbin: minho is obsessed with cats
Felix: ains 💛💛💛
Jeongin: the bag was really small
Jeongin: a big stuffed animal wouldn't fit
Hyunjin: A SMALL STUFFED ANIMAL
Hyunjin: THAT'S WORSE
Hyunjin: THAT'S MORE INTIMATE
Seungmin: hyunjin please stop with the caps, my eyes
Changbin: doesn't matter what it is
Changbin: the point is jisung bought a gift
Changbin: and he put it away with both hands
Changbin: and on top of that he was whistling
Changbin: jeongin said he was whistling
Jeongin: confirmed
Felix: whistling 🥺
Hyunjin: that's it
Hyunjin: I'm done
Hyunjin: crying forever
Chan: Well. I'm glad. That means he's going tomorrow.
Seungmin: obviously he's going
Seungmin: we've known since monday he was going
Changbin: knowing it and seeing him buy the gift are two different things
Felix: tomorrow is going to be so good 💛
Hyunjin: I'm bringing tissues
Hyunjin: I'm going to cry into the cake
Chan: Don't cry into the cake, hyunjin.
Hyunjin: no promises
Changbin: @Seungmin 50,000 says they kiss
Seungmin: done
Chan: Don't bet on people's feelings.
Changbin: too late
Changbin: already done
Felix: @Chan let them
Felix: if they're betting it means they believe in them 💛
Hyunjin: I believe
Hyunjin: I've always believed
Seungmin: hyunjin you believe in auras
Hyunjin: and in love
Hyunjin: don't forget love 😤
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Jisung arrived at his apartment with no idea that his friends had a parallel chat where they'd just bet money on his love life. He put his backpack on the sofa, took out the bag, and placed it on the living room table. The stuffed cat looked up at him with its asymmetrical eyes; the star keyring caught the light from the lamp. Jisung looked at them for a moment and smiled.
Then he tucked both back into the bag and hid them in the bedside table drawer, under the charger and a statistics textbook he hadn't opened all semester. He sat on the edge of the bed for a while with the drawer still ajar, thinking about Saturday: the cake, the fireworks, Minho's face when he opened the gift. He didn't know what expression that would be. In five years, it was the one thing he hadn't been able to predict, and that's exactly why he liked to needle him. Every so often, very rarely, the left corner of Minho's mouth would move that millimeter and a half, and Jisung felt like he had won.
Saturday night
Chan and Felix's apartment was in complete disarray. It wasn't big, but it had a living room with a window onto the street and a long table that could seat everyone if they squeezed the chairs together, and that night there were too many chairs because no one was sitting. Changbin had set up a speaker beside the television and was playing songs that had nothing to do with anything, turning the volume up every time Felix asked him to turn it down. Hyunjin was placing cat candles on the cake while Seungmin held the box with one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. Jeongin was spreading napkins across the table with a focus he never brought to exams. Chan was going between the kitchen and the living room with plates and glasses, and Felix was following behind him, straightening everything Chan set down crooked.
At seven on the dot there was a knock at the door. Felix shoved Chan gently aside and ran to open it.
"Happy birthday, giant!" He threw his arms around Minho's neck before Minho could react.
"Thanks," Minho said, patting him on the back twice, but his gaze had already drifted to the room beyond. He was wearing a clean sweatshirt and his bangs brushed to one side, which was his way of saying he had made an effort.
"Come in, come in," Felix pulled him inside.
Minho took a couple of steps in. He scanned the table, the kitchen, the balcony. Came back to the living room. Hyunjin got up from the arm of the sofa with a cat candle in each hand, and Jeongin stopped spreading napkins.
"Someone's missing," Hyunjin said.
"Nobody's missing," Minho said, taking a cookie from the plate Changbin had just placed in front of him.
"Jisung's missing," Jeongin said, and Seungmin dug his elbow into his ribs without looking up from the candle box.
"What? I'm just saying."
"Well, don't," Seungmin said.
"But it's true."
"Even so."
Felix pressed another cookie into Minho's hand before he could respond. Chan turned the music up. Changbin raised his can and knocked it with his knuckles to get everyone's attention.
"Right then, we toast. To the giant, may he have many more, and to the goblin, may he actually show up."
"You don't need to toast to the second part," Minho said, turning his can between his fingers.
"I want to, though."
"Then we toast," Chan said, raising his glass.
Hyunjin held up both cat candles. Jeongin grabbed the first thing at hand, which turned out to be his phone. Seungmin raised his can. Felix clinked his glass against Chan's and then Minho's, and Minho took a short sip before setting the can back on the table.
"Cake now," Felix grabbed the cake before Hyunjin could light anything.
"Wait, wait," Hyunjin seized his wrist. "The candles aren't in yet."
"Then put them in."
"I've got them in my hands."
"Those are the spare ones. The real ones are in the box."
Hyunjin let go of Felix's wrist and dove for the box. He took out the cat candles and pushed them into the chocolate. There were eight, one for each year Minho had had since they'd known him. Changbin passed him the lighter. Hyunjin lit the first and pulled his thumb away just in time, letting out a small yelp that Seungmin ignored completely. Seungmin took the lighter from him and lit the other seven in silence, one after another, while Hyunjin blew on his thumb.
"Turn the music off," Chan said.
"No, leave it on," Changbin waved his hands. "With music it's more intense."
"It's not intense. It's a birthday."
"Birthdays are intense."
Chan turned the volume down without turning it off entirely. They found a level where the music sat in the background. They all sang. Jeongin started too fast. Hyunjin knew the words in a different language and sang those anyway. Changbin kept time knocking his knuckles on the table. Seungmin sang well but softly, almost to himself. Felix poured three times the necessary feeling into every note. Chan, behind everyone, nodded along without opening his mouth.
When they finished, Minho blew out the candles and all eight went out at once.
"What did you wish for?" Jeongin asked.
"You're not supposed to say," Seungmin said.
"That's a myth," Jeongin insisted.
"The magic stops working if you tell," Hyunjin said, index finger raised.
Minho picked up the knife and started cutting the cake while everyone watched.
"I wished for all of you to be quiet."
Seungmin let out a short laugh. Hyunjin clapped. Jeongin scratched his head and Changbin slapped Minho on the back.
"That's making excellent use of a wish."
Minho handed out the plates and kept a small piece for himself. He ate it standing by the window, his phone's dark screen against the windowsill. Every so often he turned it on. Turned it off. Turned it on again. There was nothing.
"Fireworks start at nine," Felix announced, perched on the arm of the sofa and pointing to the window. "They launch from the river again this year, right?"
"They always launch from the river," Seungmin said.
"Exactly. You can see everything from the rooftop."
Changbin was already picking up his jacket from the back of the sofa.
"Is this the lantern festival?" Jeongin asked.
"That's the one," Felix said. "It falls on Minho's birthday three years in a row now. I'm starting to think they plan it around him."
"Sure, Felix," Seungmin said. "A festival that's been running for decades is scheduled around Minho's birthday."
"You never know."
"You do know. It's on the council website."
"The council is a big Minho fan."
Chan picked up his jacket and handed it to Felix.
"We should go up before we miss the start."
"Last year I nearly went over the railing," Changbin said, putting his jacket on backwards without noticing.
"Because you climbed onto the railing," Chan said.
"To see better."
"You almost died."
"But I didn't. That's personal growth."
They gathered their jackets and went up to the rooftop single file, up the narrow stairs that led to the same spot where Minho and Jisung had run into each other on Wednesday. The night was clear and from up here you could see the lanterns rising above the river, small points of light climbing very slowly. The railing was still cold. The park swing swayed in the breeze.
Minho moved away from the group. He took out his phone for the fourth time in ten minutes, and the screen was just as dark as the last three times. He switched it off, on, off again. He held it in both hands and felt the edges press into his knuckles. Hyunjin, leaning at the far end of the railing, was watching him. He took out his own phone and started typing.
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
📱 Chat: Uni Survival: Extended Edition 💬
Hyunjin: @Jisung where are you 🚨
Hyunjin: fireworks are about to start 🎆
Jeongin: @Jisung hyung don't take too long 🙏
Changbin: minho's checked his phone again 😐
Changbin: fifth time in ten minutes
Seungmin: he's right next to me
Seungmin: not smiling
Felix: he's coming 💛
Felix: stop pressing 🥺
Hyunjin: I'm not pressing 😤
Hyunjin: I'm worrying
Hyunjin: different thing
Changbin: if he's not here in five minutes I'm going to get him 🏃
Chan: Put your phones away. Enjoy the fireworks. He'll come.
Changbin: @Chan do you know something?
Chan: I don't know anything. But I trust.
Felix: 💛💛💛
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Minho read the messages with a slight frown. Five minutes. Changbin was giving him five minutes, as if that changed anything, as if he hadn't been waiting all night. He switched off the screen with his thumb and put his phone in his pocket. He tapped his fingers against the railing, once, twice. Then he went still, staring at the lanterns drifting over the river.
Felix walked over quietly and rested his elbows beside him.
"How are you doing?"
"Fine," Minho said without turning.
"Sure?"
"Sure."
"Okay." Felix was quiet for a moment, following one of the lanterns. "He's coming."
"I know."
"There you go then."
Felix nudged his shoulder with his own and went back to Chan.
"There!" Hyunjin shouted, and his voice overlapped with the first burst.
The sky went red. A huge round explosion that dissolved into sparks before fading. Jeongin was bouncing by the railing with his arm stretched toward the sky.
"Another one, another one!"
The second one was green. Then three golds in a row, pulling a chorus of exclamations. Hyunjin grabbed Jeongin by both shoulders and shook him.
"Look at that! It's a flower!"
"No, it's a pompom!" Jeongin shouted.
"Flowers aren't gold!"
"Sunflowers!"
"Sunflowers aren't pompoms!"
Jeongin tried to climb onto the railing for a better view. Chan grabbed him by the waist and pulled him down.
"Feet on the ground."
"I can't see."
"Then ask Changbin to lift you."
"Changbin hyung, lift me."
"Absolutely not. You weigh more than a sunflower."
"See! You said sunflower!" Hyunjin flung both arms at the sky. "Sunflowers are flowers!"
"This is not a botany debate," Seungmin said, filming with his phone propped against the railing.
Changbin peered over his shoulder.
"Get closer to the green one."
"We're on a rooftop, Changbin. I can't get closer to the sky."
"You're a terrible cameraman."
"And you're a terrible audience."
"Guys," Chan said, not raising his voice. "Enjoy the fireworks."
Another burst, blue this time. Then two silvers. The lanterns kept floating over the river. Felix leaned against Chan and Chan put an arm around his shoulders.
Minho's pocket vibrated. He took out his phone. The notification wasn't from the group.
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Private chat: Jisung → Minho
Jisung: turn your head, giant
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Minho turned his head.
There, tucked behind the rooftop access door, was Jisung. He was wearing the same grey sweatshirt from the library, his hair a mess, a crumpled bag in one hand. He was crouching, half hidden by the wall, and he hadn't left and he hadn't been late: he had been there the whole time, waiting. Minho let out a breath.
He moved away from the group without a sound. No one asked anything because everyone already knew. He reached the door and crouched down too, on instinct, until he was level with Jisung. Jisung grabbed his sleeve.
"What are you doing out here alone?" His voice came out higher than usual, almost a scolding. "It's your party, you absolute giant."
"You've been gone all night," Minho said. It came out quieter than he intended. "The whole night."
Jisung went silent when he saw the tight set of Minho's jaw and his knuckles white around his phone. He pressed the bag against Minho's chest.
"Here. Open it."
Minho looked down at the blue bag with the little stars on it. He opened it slowly and found a tiny stuffed cat with asymmetrical eyes and one ear bigger than the other, and a star-shaped keyring. He took out the cat and held it in his palm. He didn't look away from it.
"The star is for the other night," Jisung said, speaking fast. "On the rooftop. And the cat... I don't know, it reminded me of you. You're a cat. A giant with a cat's face. Open it up and be quiet."
Behind them, the fireworks kept going off. Minho looked at the cat and then at Jisung. His eyes were bright. He turned the cat in his palm, once, twice, without saying anything. Jisung knew that expression. He'd seen it on the rooftop when they talked about height. He recognized it instantly.
They were both crouching, very close together. Jisung felt the weight of the phone Minho had set down on the edge of a planter, the slight press of the stuffed animal against his own sweatshirt. He leaned forward without calculating the distance. He put a hand on the back of Minho's neck and felt the warmth of his skin under his fingers. He kissed him. It was clumsy at first: his nose bumped into Minho's before he found the right angle, and for a moment he thought he'd got it wrong. But then Minho let out a slow breath against his lips and let the stuffed animal fall. With his other hand he found Jisung's waist. Jisung felt the soft pull at his sweatshirt, Minho's fingers closing around the fabric. He pulled back just a second. Minho's eyes were very wide.
"It was my turn," Jisung said, his fingers still caught in his hair. "You've been wanting to do this for five years and never dared. Someone had to get on with it."
"I gave you five years' head start, goblin."
Minho's voice was softer than Jisung had ever heard it, no trace of irony left. Jisung rested his forehead against Minho's chest and stayed there, feeling the other's heartbeat against his own skin. Minho wrapped his arms around his shoulders. The stuffed cat was still squashed between them and the keyring was jingling inside the bag, and behind them the fireworks kept bursting.
Inside the rooftop, Hyunjin lowered his phone with a blurry photo on the screen. Two silhouettes kissing by the door, cut out against the lit-up sky. He sent it to the group chat without a word. No word was needed.
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
📱 Chat: Uni Survival: Extended Edition 💬
Hyunjin: [image: two silhouettes kissing by the rooftop door with fireworks in the background]
Hyunjin: ART EXISTS AND I CAPTURED IT 😭🎆
Changbin: SEUNGMIN YOU OWE ME 50,000 💸
Seungmin: give me back the 20 from the storage room first 🙄
Changbin: that was three years ago
Seungmin: debts don't expire
Felix: I'm crying 💛💛💛😭
Jeongin: are they together now?? 🥺
Chan: Looks like it.
Hyunjin: it doesn't look like it
Hyunjin: IT IS 💕
Jisung: HYUNJIN DELETE THAT PHOTO 🤬
Minho: Don't delete it.
Minho: I want it framed.
Jisung: YOU BE QUIET
Minho: Goblin.
Jisung: you absolute giant
Felix: 💛💛💛💛💛
Changbin: I propose renaming the chat to 'the goblin and the giant' 🗳️
Hyunjin: SECONDED ✋😭
Seungmin: seconded
Jeongin: seconded 🙋
Chan: Seconded. But later. Now put your phones down and enjoy yourselves.
Felix: chan seconding something and then saying put your phones down, this man contains multitudes 💛
Minho: I second Chan.
Jisung: you don't second anything
Minho: I second Chan, goblin.
Jisung: ...
Jisung: fine
Hyunjin: HE SAID FINE
Hyunjin: THIS IS HISTORY 😭😭😭
Seungmin: hyunjin, put your phone down.
Hyunjin: no
Seungmin: @Hyunjin I owe you 50,000 won if you put your phone down
Hyunjin: deal
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Jisung pocketed his phone and rested his forehead against Minho's chest again. The fireworks kept bursting overhead. The stuffed cat's larger ear was poking out of the pocket of Minho's sweatshirt. Jisung pointed at it.
"It has a dumb face."
"Like you," Minho said, and kissed the top of his head.
"I'm not answering that."
"You already did."
Jisung snorted. Below, the lanterns drifted over the river. Up on the rooftop, the group was watching the fireworks and pretending not to watch them. Hyunjin was crying. Seungmin passed him a handkerchief. Changbin and Jeongin had started singing happy birthday again, out of time and delighted. Chan pulled Felix close by the shoulder and Felix leaned into him, eyes damp and a smile that took up his whole face.
Sunday morning
Jisung woke up to the warmth of sunlight on his face. He turned into the back of the sofa looking for the dark and lay there for a while with the blanket pulled to his ears while his body slowly came back to life. There was no hurry. When he pushed the blanket aside, the first thing he found was the stuffed cat sitting on the armrest, its crooked ear and asymmetrical eyes watching him. He stroked its head with the tip of one finger.
"Morning to you too," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep.
From the kitchen came the sizzle of a pan and off-key humming. Minho had his back to him, hair still messy and a white t-shirt that rode up slightly at his waist whenever he raised the spatula. Jisung pressed his cheek against the cushion and watched him without any particular hurry. He had always liked watching, but before he hadn't let himself linger. Now he did.
He got up quietly, barefoot, and instead of calling out from the counter he went around the kitchen and pressed up against Minho's back, arms around his waist.
"Morning, giant," he said, cheek against his shoulder blades.
Minho went still, spatula in the air. He turned off the heat and set the spatula on the counter. Then he turned in Jisung's arms, framed his face with both hands, and kissed him slowly, the kind that isn't in a hurry and tastes like coffee and Sunday. When they broke apart, Jisung's cheeks were warm and he had a stupid smile he wasn't going to hide.
"Morning, goblin," Minho said, his thumb still brushing his cheekbone.
"I like this greeting," Jisung got up on his toes and stole a quick kiss from the corner of his mouth. "Did you make pancakes?"
"Yes."
"With chocolate?"
"Chocolate and cream."
"You're the best boyfriend in the world."
"I know."
Jisung laughed and leaned back against the counter, looking at the stack of pancakes, the bowl of whipped cream, the chocolate still liquid in its saucepan. Minho handed him a fork without being asked. Jisung speared a pancake straight from the plate and put it in his mouth.
"Hot," he said, fanning himself.
"It just came out of the pan. Sit down."
"I don't want to sit down. I'm fine here."
"Then don't complain."
Minho turned off the heat and faced him. He had a small burn on his thumb. Jisung noticed it at once, set the fork on the counter, and took his hand in both of his.
"You burned yourself," he said, tracing the edge of the burn.
"It's nothing."
"Let me see."
Jisung brought Minho's hand to his lips. He pressed a slow kiss just beside the burn, where the skin was unbroken, and held his lips there a moment longer than necessary. When he pulled back he didn't let go of Minho's hand. He kept holding it in the air, between the two of them.
"There. Cured."
Minho looked at his thumb, then at Jisung, then back at his thumb. Finally, in the softest and warmest voice Jisung had ever heard from him, he managed:
"That doesn't cure anything."
Jisung shook his head, smiling.
"Works for me."
"You're an idiot," Minho replied, but he couldn't finish the sentence without the left corner of his mouth moving, not the usual millimeter and a half, but a wider, more generous curve that reached halfway up his cheek.
Jisung stared at it, transfixed.
"You actually smiled."
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did. It went all the way to your ear."
"I don't have ears."
"You have two, giant. Like everyone."
Minho snorted but didn't stop smiling. Neither did Jisung. They stood like that for a moment by the counter, the pancakes cooling on the plate and Minho's hand still held in Jisung's. Sunlight came in through the window and drew a rectangle of warmth across the sofa where Jisung had slept. There was no hurry.
"Thank you," Jisung said, releasing his hand slowly.
"For the pancakes?" Minho leaned back against the counter across from him.
"For everything. The cat, last night, the pancakes, for not leaving."
Minho uncrossed his arms and tapped Jisung's forehead with one finger. Then instead of pulling back he brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes. He leaned down and kissed his forehead, right where he had touched it, with a tenderness that made Jisung's chest tighten.
"You're welcome, goblin," he said against his skin, before drawing back.
"The cat is really ugly," Jisung said, pointing at the stuffed animal with the fork, because he needed to say something or it was going to show on his face that he was about to cry. "It has one ear bigger than the other."
"Like you," Minho said, picking up his coffee cup.
"I don't have one ear bigger than the other."
"No, but you're ugly," he said, looking at him over the rim of the cup, his eyes brighter in a way Jisung hadn't seen in five years.
Jisung laughed. Not a polite laugh or a quick snort, a real one, born in his chest, that made him lean back against the counter. Minho set the cup on the table and watched him with that new smile that wouldn't leave. Jisung caught himself staring and stopped.
"What?"
"Nothing," Minho said. "Just... you laugh and you actually look like a goblin."
"Is that good or bad?"
"It's good." Minho picked up his plate and gestured toward the table. "Now sit down before they go cold."
Jisung obeyed. He took his plate and sat across from Minho, the stuffed cat in the middle of the table leaning against the sugar bowl. Minho speared a piece of pancake and offered it to Jisung across the table, stretching his arm out. Jisung took it off the fork and ate it. Then he did the same: he speared a piece of his own and brought it to Minho's lips, and Minho took it without comment.
"Have you named it?" Minho asked, nodding at the stuffed animal while he speared another piece.
"Dot," Jisung said, holding the cat up so Minho could see it properly. "His name is Dot."
"Why?"
"Because he's dry, short, and a bit blunt. Like your messages in the chat."
Minho set his cup on the table and looked at the cat, then at Jisung, then at the cat again.
"So the cat reminds you of me."
"Exactly."
"And you named him Dot."
"Yes."
"That's the worst name I've ever heard."
"It's a great name," Jisung tapped the stuffed animal against Minho's hand. "Short, dry, a bit blunt. Just like you."
"A bit?"
"A lot."
Minho reached across the table and stole a piece of pancake from Jisung's plate. Jisung pulled the plate back but Minho already had it in his mouth.
"Thief," Jisung said, smiling.
"Your plate's closer than mine."
"They're your pancakes. They're both on the same table."
"Then don't complain." He held out another piece speared on his fork.
Jisung's phone buzzed on the table. He unlocked it with his chocolate-stained finger.
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
💕 Chat: The Goblin and the Giant
Hyunjin: good morning, couple of the year 😭💕
Hyunjin: I woke up and the first thing I did was look at last night's photo
Hyunjin: I've made it my phone wallpaper
Hyunjin: [screenshot: the blurry photo of the two silhouettes kissing on the rooftop, now set as wallpaper]
Changbin: hyunjin it's nine in the morning on a Sunday
Changbin: go back to sleep
Hyunjin: I CAN'T
Hyunjin: ART HAS WOKEN ME UP
Seungmin: the vibration woke me up
Seungmin: thanks a lot, hyunjin
Felix: good morning 💛💛💛
Felix: anyone know if jisung slept at his place or the one next door? 👀
Jeongin: next door
Jeongin: I heard the flip-flops at two in the morning
Chan: Jeongin, do you sleep?
Jeongin: not much
Changbin: @Jisung @Minho wake up and let us know you're alive
Changbin: the chat has a new name and neither of you said anything
Hyunjin: true
Hyunjin: @Minho @Jisung weigh in on the new name
Minho: I like it.
Hyunjin: HE SPOKE
Hyunjin: FIRST WORDS OF THE DAY: I LIKE IT
Hyunjin: THIS IS POETRY
Seungmin: hyunjin I'll buy you a coffee if you stop typing in caps
Hyunjin: don't bribe me
Jisung: the cat's name is Dot
Felix: WHAT CAT 😭💛
Changbin: they have a cat now
Changbin: they've adopted a cat
Changbin: this is moving very fast
Minho: It's a stuffed animal.
Changbin: oh
Hyunjin: a stuffed animal called Dot 😭😭😭
Jeongin: why Dot?
Jisung: because he's dry and a bit blunt
Seungmin: like minho
Minho: Exactly.
Felix: minho said exactly 💛💛💛
Chan: Guys, enjoy Sunday. See you in class tomorrow.
Hyunjin: chan don't be a buzzkill
Hyunjin: we are witnessing a historic moment
Chan: I know. But I'm tired.
Felix: he's right, sleep a bit more 😭💛
Changbin: good night, goblin and giant
Changbin: look after Dot
Minho: Done.
Jisung: stop chatting and go to sleep
Hyunjin: no
Seungmin: hyunjin, put your phone down.
Hyunjin: no
Seungmin: @Hyunjin I owe you 50,000 won if you put your phone down
Hyunjin: deal
♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷♡⁀➷
Jisung put his phone on the table and rested his chin on his hand. Minho was still looking at him, coffee between his fingers and that new smile he was already beginning to love.
"Staying?" Minho asked.
"For lunch?" Jisung picked up the stuffed cat and set it in his lap, crooked ear angled toward Minho.
"For whatever you want."
"Dot says yes." He lifted the little paw and moved it as if waving.
"Dot doesn't talk." Minho laughed.
"Dot talks in dots. Like you."
Minho got up to get the coffee maker. While he filled it with water, Jisung looked at the rectangle of sunlight coming through the window and falling right across the sofa where he'd slept. Sunday stretched out ahead of them with no hurry at all.
"Hey, giant," he said, not taking his eyes off the light. "Does this mean you're not going to steal my keys anymore?"
Minho put the coffee maker back and came to the table. He stood beside Jisung and rested his hand on top of his head. Same weight as always. Different gesture.
"No. It means I have permission now." He ran his fingers slowly through Jisung's hair, then stroked the back of his neck before withdrawing his hand.
Jisung looked up and met Minho's eyes.
"Then I'm staying," Jisung said, and held out his empty cup to be filled.
Minho came back from the kitchen with the coffee maker in one hand and Jisung's cup already full. He set it on the table, sat down beside him, not across, and put an arm around his shoulders, drawing him in. Jisung settled against his side without thinking, resting his head in the space between his shoulder and neck, exactly where it fit. Minho brushed his temple with his lips in a kiss that stayed there a moment, in no hurry to go anywhere.
"Hey, giant," Jisung said, eyes closed. "This thing about liking you is new, but I like it."
"I know."
"You could say you feel the same."
"You're ugly, goblin."
Jisung raised his head and found Minho looking at him with that smile that wasn't the usual one. He held it for a moment, eyebrows raised, waiting.
"That's it?" Jisung said. "Just that?"
"No."
"Then say it."
"I love you," Minho said, and he said it straight, without blinking, without irony, without a period in the chat to hide behind. Just the words, bare, between the two of them. "I've been in love with you since our first year of secondary school, goblin. Don't make me say it again."
Jisung went quiet. The edges of his eyes prickled. His voice broke when he answered:
"Same, giant. Same."
Minho held his face in both hands and kissed him slowly, no rush, his thumbs moving across his cheekbones. When they parted, Jisung pressed his forehead against Minho's and let out a wet laugh.
"Five years," he said. "Five years for you to say I love you."
"You've been counting."
"Of course I have."
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," Minho said, and kissed the tip of his nose. "You too, in case you didn't know."
They stayed like that a while, folded together on the sofa, the stuffed cat pressed between them and the coffee maker cooling in the kitchen. The rectangle of sunlight had climbed up the back of the sofa and was stretching lazily toward the rug. Sunday was still there, unhurried, waiting. And for the first time in five years, Minho didn't need to check his phone.