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Jisung feels a little selfish, sometimes. A lot of the time. All of the time, maybe.
He’s laying with his head in Minho’s lap, his cheek pressed against the seam of his jeans, and he can’t stop thinking. Minho is scratching at his scalp, his fingers tucked behind Jisung’s brand new puppy ear hairclips, and he can’t fucking relax. Jisung’s thoughts are looping in his brain, turning over and over themselves in a never ending cycle.
He’s just – wondering, again, if he’s doing enough. If he’s providing enough, to Minho, to their relationship, to their dynamic as a whole. Minho’s finger catches in Jisung’s clip-in ear, and he sniffs, pressing his face deeper into Minho’s thigh.
“Puppy,” Minho says, his voice almost a whisper. He moves his hand from Jisung’s hair to the side of his face, gently caressing. Always so gentle. Jisung feels like he could cry. “You’re so tense.”
Jisung tries to relax, pushing his face deeper into Minho’s thigh, as if trying to squirm away from the thoughts. He needs to be a good puppy for Minho. Minho likes him when he’s good, and pliant, and– and mindless. But Jisung can’t seem to get out of his fucking head.
Jisung sniffles again, and he feels it – the pressure behind his eyes, the stinging sensation in his nose. He’s going to start crying, and not the freeing, all encompassing cry he usually does when he’s in space. He’s just going to – cry. Like a normal person. Like someone who feels overwhelmed with the fact that they know they’re not doing enough for their partner.
Jisung feels the first tear slip out, and he tilts his head down on Minho’s thigh, trying to hide the top half of his face. Once he starts, though, he feels like he can’t stop. He knows he should call the scene: yellow, or red, or- or something, but he can’t. He can’t. Minho needs him to be good and relax and so he’s going to try to relax but his breath is hitching and his shoulders are starting to shake and–
“Jisung?” Minho asks, his voice still soft but obviously concerned. He weasels his hand under Jisung’s chin and pulls his face away from his thigh. When Minho sees him, he looks horrified. “Ji– red, red, Jisung, come up here.”
“No,” Jisung cries, even as Minho hauls him into his lap. He has to be good, they can’t stop the scene, he has to– to be Minho’s good dog, who doesn’t have thoughts or worries or so much noise in his brain–
Minho holds Jisung close, carefully extracting the clips from his hair and setting them down on the couch. With nothing in the way, Minho is able to cradle Jisung’s head to his shoulder. Gently petting the side of his face, Minho wipes away Jisung’s tears, even as more pop up in their wake.
“Jisung, my Jisungie, what’s wrong?” Minho asks. He’s gently rocking Jisung in his lap, which makes Jisung cry harder. He doesn’t deserve all this love. This never ending gentleness.
Jisung cries while Minho rocks him, whispering nothing sentences into his ear. Telling Jisung he’s good, that they’re good, that everything is okay. With every passing moment, Jisung feels worse. He should be relishing in the praise, should– should be done crying about it, at least, but. But.
“Stop comforting me,” Jisung cries. He wipes his nose along his arm and glares at Minho, whose eyes are wide with both concern and confusion. Jisung sniffles. “I– I don’t deserve it.”
“Jisung,” Minho says sadly. His hand pauses where he’s been petting down Jisung’s back. “What are you talking about right now?”
Wiping his eyes furiously with his hands, Jisung makes a frustrated sound. “I- I just– feel like–”
“Deep breath for me, baby,” Minho mutters. His hand starts moving on Jisung’s back again, and Jisung takes a deep breath. A deep breath he can do. Sorting out the mess of his racing thoughts, maybe not. Minho waits quietly for Jisung to continue, never pushing or interfering. The fact makes Jisung want to start crying again. Minho is too good to him.
“I’m not doing enough, am I?” Jisung asks, turning his tearful gaze towards Minho. Minho frowns deep enough to match Jisung’s own. “I– for you, I mean. I just– I’m always… taking. From you. And I don’t give anything in return.”
“Jisungie, you give me so much,” Minho says. He turns Jisung in his lap so they’re facing each other. He holds Jisung’s chin so he can’t look away. “Why… why would you think that? That you don’t give me anything in return?”
Jisung sniffles and shakes his head. “Because it’s true. I just– I get to be the brainless one, and you always have to take care of me. Even– even when I’m not in space, you’re always taking care of me. And I feel like. Like I don’t do enough for you. In space, in– in everyday life, never.”
“Jisung, listen to me very carefully,” Minho says. He holds tighter to Jisung’s chin, forcing eye contact. Jisung swallows roughly. “You are perfect. For me, and in general. I love taking care of you, whether that’s in a scene or in day to day life. You’re never taking anything from me, Jisungie, I’m giving it. Freely. Because I love you, yeah?”
Jisung wants to cry again. It’s not the first time Minho has said he loves him, not by a long shot, but in his state, with his brain being so fucking loud, it’s hard to accept. Minho might love him, but his brain is always going to add a for now onto the end of the sentiment.
Here comes the tears again.
“My Jisungie,” Minho says softly, moving the pads of his thumbs to wipe the tears off his cheeks. “I love you so much. You know that, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jisung chokes. Because he does. He does know. “But I just– I don’t– I don’t feel like enough. You– you say you like taking care of me, and- and that you love me, but what if– what if I don’t believe you?”
Minho frowns deeply, and Jisung feels even worse. “I’m sorry, I– I trust you. I trust you so much, hyung, but my brain– what if you– what if you don’t know. And you think I’m enough and I’m not, and one day you– you realize it–”
Jisung is on the verge of hyperventilating. His chest is heaving, and he feels like he can’t breathe, and Minho’s hands on his face feel claustrophobic, all the sudden, and he– he–
“Jisung, Jisung,” Minho says. He puts one hand on Jisung’s chest and the other on his back. Minho starts breathing deeply, and he taps out each breath on Jisung’s chest. Jisung tries to follow, but his breaths keep skipping and stuttering, and he feels like he’s going to start crying again.
“I just want to be enough for you,” Jisung cries around his rapid breaths. “I don’t want you to change your mind about loving me.”
“Oh, baby.” Minho moves suddenly, and Jisung is wrapped tightly in his arms, the air he’s already struggling to take in squeezed right back out of him. Minho holds onto him tight, resuming gently rocking him back and forth. When Minho speaks, it’s strained, like he, too, is trying not to cry. “My baby, my Jisung, my lovely, lovely, Jisung. I will never change my mind about you. Never. You’re stuck with me, baby. And you don’t have to do anything else, or anything more, yeah? I am happy with you. However you are. Always.”
Jisung cries into Minho’s shoulder until he feels like he runs dry. Then he sniffles and coughs and pulls away to look Minho in the face. Minho is still frowning softly, and his eyes look far away. Jisung wipes delicately at his soaked shoulder. “I’m sorry. For ruining– everything.”
“Everything?”
“The scene. Your shirt.”
Minho makes a displeased sound. “Jisung, I don’t care about the scene. Or this shirt. I care about you.”
“But that’s… being good is what I can offer you,” Jisung says. “And if I can’t do that–”
“You have got to get it out of your head that you need to be doing something for me,” Minho says, firmly but not unkindly. He pushes a stray piece of hair away from Jisung’s forehead. “I don’t need anything from you, Jisung. Except for you to be yourself.”
Jisung swallows, looking somewhere over Minho’s shoulder. “So you… you really don’t mind? That I don’t offer– that I don’t have anything extra? To give you?”
“Baby,” Minho sighs. “You give me everything and you don’t even realize it.”
Jisung shakes his head minutely. “I guess. I guess I don’t get it, hyung. I get so much from you– the floaty feeling, getting taken care of, so much love and gentleness and I just… I dunno. I just.”
Minho shakes his head in turn. “You don’t just anything, Jisung. You trust me, and that’s more than I could ever ask for. When I get to take care of you, my brain doesn’t turn off, you’re right. But the rest of the world, it… falls quiet. It’s just me, and you, and the scene. It’s just us, baby. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Yeah?”
Minho nods. “Yeah, baby. It’s good for me too, when you’re in space. My mind empties too, yeah? How you’re focused on me, I’m focused on you. It’s the same.”
Jisung looks at his boyfriend, his best friend, the love of his life, and sees nothing but earnestness in his expression. Jisung’s brain quiets. Minho isn’t lying. Minho doesn’t need anything extra from him.
Jisung sniffles again. “I’m sorry. For not… for not bringing it up. Better.”
“That’s okay,” Minho says quietly. He runs his hands across Jisung’s pecs, down his sides, and back up again. He pinches Jisung’s cheek fondly. “At least we talked about it, yeah? You feeling better?”
Jisung nods. He looks down forlornly at his puppy ears. He doesn’t think he wants to continue their scene right now, even though the voice in the back of his head that says he needs it, needs to relax, tells him he should ask to pick it back up.
Minho scoops the ears up as if reading Jisung’s mind. “They’ll still be here tomorrow, Sungie. For now, though – do you need me to reassure you more? Make sure you know that I’m having fun, too?”
Playing with his fingers, Jisung shrugs. He shouldn’t need more reassurance. Minho already does such a good job, doling out praise like he gets paid to do so. Jisung should be fine with what he already has, instead of asking for more.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t– I can’t take more.”
“You’re not taking, Jisung,” Minho says again. He drops the ears onto the table beside the couch and uses his now-free hands to cup Jisung’s face. “That’s it. You’re getting more reassurance. You can’t stop me.”
“Hyung–”
“Jisung.” Minho squeezes his cheeks together such that Jisung can’t interrupt again. “I love you. I love you more than life itself. If reassurance is what you need, it’s what you’ll get. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you in all forms, in all ways, until I die. And I’ll say it a million times over, baby.”
Jisung blushes. He feels tears creep up on his lash line again, but this time for an entirely different reason. Minho kisses him, squished mouth and all, and pulls away with a smile. “My Jisungie. My baby, my puppy. You’re my everything.”
“No you,” Jisung mumbles, the words garbled through his squished mouth. Minho laughs and kisses him again.
When Minho finally lets him go, Jisung sinks deeper into his lap, resting his head on Minho’s shoulder. His brain, mercifully, is quiet. The feeling of need to be more, to provide, still lingers, but it’s not as all-encompassing as it was before. Maybe he’ll do something for Minho soon. Cook him dinner, or actually tidy the house, or maybe offer to dom Minho, for once.
Jisung’s shoulders start to shake with laughter at the thought.
“What’s so funny, baby?”
“Just thinking, is all.” Jisung mutters against Minho’s shoulder. Minho’s running his hands along the curve of Jisung’s spine, and Jisung sighs. “I love you, hyung. More than anything in the world.”
When Minho says he loves Jisung too, Jisung believes him.