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“Sung, that’s supposed to be dinner.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you eating it?”
“I’m inspecting it.”
“And you need three pieces to inspect it?”
“I’m thoroughly inspecting it.”
Minho rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself.
“And how many times would you like to ‘thoroughly inspect’ the carrots?”
“As many as it takes to deem them safe.”
“You’re eating my dinner.”
“Our dinner.”
“You weren’t invited to inspect it.”
Jisung grinned, reaching for another piece.
Minho caught his wrist before he could.
“Enough.”
“Hyung.”
“No.”
“One more.”
“You’ve said that three times.”
“This time I mean it.”
He shook his head, letting go of his wrist.
“Go sit down.”
“Rude.”
Jisung shuffled over to the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Minho went back to stirring the noodles.
The kitchen settled into a comfortable silence, filled with the quiet sound of rain tapping against their windows, and the soft sizzling of the pan as the vegetables were added in.
The light above the countertop gave the apartment a warm vibe, cozy even. Jisung stayed where he was, switching between watching the city outside and watching Minho.
“Hyung, guess what happened to me today.”
“No clue, it’s something different every time.” He responded, not turning away from the stove.
Jisung launched into a story about how a stray cat followed him almost the whole way home.
“And then it sat outside the entrance like I was supposed to let it in! I felt so bad because it was so cute and its fur was black and white and it had-”
He paused.
Minho glanced over his shoulder.
“Had what, Sung?”
Jisung blinked.
“Uhh, I can’t remember.”
“Can’t remember what?”
“The cat.”
Minho raised an eyebrow.
He frowned, trying to remember what it looked like.
“It had…”
He trailed off.
“I don’t know, it had something.”
“Very descriptive.” Minho smirked.
“Oh shut up, you know what I mean!”
Jisung turned his gaze back to the window, deep in thought. It came back to him a few seconds later.
“That’s what it had, really fluffy ears!” He beamed.
Minho laughed.
“Took you long enough.”
Jisung smiled, continuing his story.
“Anyways, I tried to pet it but it ran away, and then it came back again!”
“Maybe it liked you.”
“Obviously.”
“Or, maybe it wanted your carrots.”
He gasped.
“How dare you!”
Minho grinned, turning the stove off.
“Come on, it’s ready.”
Jisung pushed himself off the counter.
“Finally.”
“You could’ve helped.” He shrugged.
“I gave moral support.”
“You were eating half the ingredients.”
“Same thing.”
He pulled a chair out from under the table, sitting across from Minho.
The food tasted amazing even with its lack of carrots.
Jisung just enjoyed it in silence for a few minutes, occasionally glancing towards the window whenever the rain grew louder.
Minho looked up from his plate.
“You good?”
Jisung blinked.
“Hm?”
“You’ve been staring at the window for about five minutes.”
“Have I?”
“Yeah.”
Jisung shrugged, picking at the noodles with his fork.
“Just watching the rain.”
Minho hummed, going back to his food.
Silence continued.
It wasn’t uncomfortable. The soft clinking of cutlery against their plates filled the room, accompanied by the rain outside.
Jisung took another bite, chewing slowly as he watched the droplets slide down the window.
He reached for his glass.
All of a sudden the room felt warm, much warmer than a few seconds before.
He paused.
His fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
Did Minho turn on the heating?
He looked around the room, looked towards Minho.
Nothing changed.
He took a sip of water and set the glass back down.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Jisung looked up.
Minho was watching him again.
“Yeah, all good.”
He sounded that tiny bit unsure.
Minho studied him for another second before nodding.
“Okay.”
Jisung smiled faintly and returned to his food, trying to ignore it.
He was probably just imagining it.
It had been a long day.
That was all.
He took another bite.
A few minutes passed.
The feeling faded, and Jisung relaxed again.
He even went to Minho about something else that had happened at work.
“Hyung.”
“What?”
He stopped.
His sentence disappeared from his mind.
“Nevermind.”
He looked down at his plate, trying to remember what he’d been about to say.
Nothing came.
He shook his head.
Minho didn’t question it.
When they had both finished eating, Jisung stood and gathered both plates.
“I’ll do the dishes tonight.”
“Leave it sung, I can do them.”
“Trust me I got it, besides I ate your ‘beloved carrots’.” He said, sarcasm creeping into his voice as he smiled.
Minho rolled his eyes.
He carried the plates over to the sink,
making it to the counter before stopping.
The floor tilted under his feet.
Jisung froze, placing the plates down and gripping the edge of the counter.
Shit.
He pressed his eyes closed, hoping it would pass.
“Sung?” Minho stood.
He tried to answer.
“I’m-“
His voice caught.
His legs suddenly felt weak, like they couldn’t hold him anymore.
“Hyung..” he looked towards him. Trying to take a step.
Not this again.
His foot barely moved before his vision blurred.
He reached out instinctively, trying to find something to hold him up.
He didn’t make it.
His knees collapsed under him.
Minho practically sprinted across the room, catching him before he could hit the floor and pulling him against his chest.
“Jisung! Jisung-ssi, hey, look at me.”
Jisung tried.
For a second, he could hear Minho’s voice, distant and muffled, as if he was somewhere far away.
He wanted to answer.
But nothing would come out.
He wrapped his fingers tight around Minho’s sleeve, his vision fading into darkness.
“Sung?”
Minho was the last thing he heard, then, nothing.
***
Slowly, Jisung opened his eyes. He couldn’t remember where he was.
The ceiling above him looked unfamiliar.
For a few seconds, he simply stared at it, blinking slowly, squinting from the overhead light.
He felt as if everything was delayed, his thoughts sluggish.
He turned his head.
Minho.
He was sitting on the floor beside the sofa, one arm resting on Jisung’s thigh, just watching.
The second their eyes met, Minho’s expression changed.
“Sung?”
Jisung frowned.
“Hyung…?”
Even his own voice sounded strange to him.
Minho immediately leaned closer.
“Hey. I’m here.”
Jisung stared at him for a moment longer.
“Hyung,” he tried to sit up, but Minho gently held him down.
“It’s okay sung don’t panic, lie down.”
“Hyung, what..?” He stopped.
“Did I..?”
“You fainted.”
Jisung stared at him.
“I… fainted?”
Minho nodded. “Yeah.”
Jisung looked down at his hands.
They were trembling.
He hadn’t noticed until now.
He curled them into the blanket, pressing his fingers against the fabric as if he could force them to stop.
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s okay.”
“I was standing and then…”
He frowned.
The memory came back in pieces.
The room tilting.
His hand gripping the counter.
His legs suddenly feeling too weak to hold him.
And then Minho.
He remembered trying to reach him.
His breathing became uneven.
“I just…”
He swallowed.
“I just collapsed.”
Minho’s expression softened, a mix of worry and something else.
“You don’t have to remember everything right now.”
“No, I-”
Jisung shook his head.
“I remember.”
He looked at Minho.
“You caught me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.”
Minho’s voice was quiet. “I caught you.”
Jisung’s expression changed.
Then his eyes dropped again.
He looked around to where he was laying on the sofa, but he was in the kitchen?
“Hyung, did you..? Did you carry me here?”
“I, uhh.” It was like he wasn’t expecting the question. “Yeah, I did.”
Jisung nodded slowly, his fingers shifted from the blanket to Minho’s sleeve subconsciously.
His thumb rubbed nervously over the fabric, back and forth, while he tried to piece together the missing moments.
“And how long was I out..?” He said avoiding eye contact.
“Not long, barley a minute.”
It felt much longer for Minho.
Jisung didn’t say anything for a while.
His eyes stayed fixed on Minho’s sleeve, his fingers slowly twisting the fabric between them. He could still remember the sound of Minho calling his name.
He couldn’t process it at the time.
But, remembering it now, those last few moments where Minho was speaking to him. He could hear the panic in his voice.
Jisung’s grip tightened.
“Hyung?”
“Yeah?”
He hesitated, suddenly unsure if he wanted to know the answer.
“Were you scared?”
Minho took a deep breath, like he was choosing the correct thing to say.
“Honestly,” he said softly. “Yeah, I was a little bit.”
“A little bit?”
“No, a lot actually.” His voice was quieter now.
Jisung’s face dropped.
“I’m sorry Minho, I’m really sorry.” He loosened his grip on the sleeve, starting to pull his hand away. Suddenly embarrassed by how tightly he’d been holding on.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Minho held his hand before he could pull it completely away.
“Sung.”
Jisung wouldn’t look at him.
“I’ll be more careful next time.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you if I feel weird. I’ll sit down. I won’t-”
His voice caught.
“I won’t let it happen again.”
Minho’s expression softened.
“You can’t promise me that.”
Jisung finally looked at him. His eyes tearing up.
“I don’t want to scare you again.”
“I know.”
Minho squeezed his hand.
“But you didn’t know this was going to happen, neither of us did. You don’t have to make yourself responsible for something you couldn’t control.”
Jisung looked down at their hands.
He didn’t answer.
His lower lip trembled slightly, and he quickly pressed it between his teeth, trying to stop it.
Minho noticed.
“Oh Sung…”
Jisung shook his head, blinking quickly.
“I’m fine.”
But his voice came out uneven.
He looked away, wiping quickly beneath one eye with his sleeve.
Minho frowned, pushing himself off the floor and sitting beside him.
He opened his arms slightly.
Jisung looked at him.
He hesitated, but eventually, he leaned forwards. Wrapping his arms around Minho and burying his face in his shoulder.
A small, shaky breath escaped from him.
“I’m scared.” He whispered.
Minho rubbed his hand slowly across Jisung’s back.
“I know.” He pulled him closer. “You don’t have to be okay yet.”
Jisung didn’t answer.
He stayed exactly where he was, his fingers curled tightly into the back of Minho’s hoodie. His breathing was still uneven, each breath catching slightly before the next one came.
Minho didn’t rush him. He simply kept his hand moving slowly across Jisung’s back, letting him take however much time he needed.
Gradually, Jisung’s breathing began to slow, his shoulders dropping slightly.
The tightness in his chest wasn’t fully gone, but it wasn’t quite as overwhelming anymore. He took a deeper breath, holding it for a second before letting it out against Minho’s shoulder.
Another followed.
Then another.
His grip on Minho’s shirt loosened slightly.
“Better?” Minho murmured.
Jisung nodded against his shoulder.
“A little.”
“Even a little is enough.”
They stayed like that for another few moments.
Eventually, Jisung lifted his head, still staying close. His eyes were still slightly red, and he kept one hand resting against Minho’s sleeve, wiping his eyes with the other.
“Sorry.”
Minho gave him a look.
“What did I say about apologising?”
Jisung’s mouth twitched into the smallest smile.
“Right.”
“Exactly.”
Jisung looked down, his fingers intertwined with the fabric of Minho’s sleeve again.
He cleared his throat, bringing his gaze up to Minho. “Can you just.. stay here for a bit?”
Minho’s expression softened.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You promise?”
“I promise, sungie.”
Jisung gave the tiniest nod before turning to the window, watching the continuous rain roll down the windows. Not moving his hand.
Minho studied him for a moment while he wasn’t looking, he was now noticeably more pale, and there were faint traces of tears underneath his eyes.
“You look exhausted.”
Jisung glanced back at him. “I’m fine.”
Minho tilted his head.
“I mean, I guess I’m a little bit tired..”
“That’s what I thought,” he leaned forward, taking the cup of water off the coffee table.
He held it out to Jisung.
Jisung reached for it, his fingers closing around the glass.
They were still unsteady.
He ignored it, taking a small sip.
His eyes kept moving around the room.
The window.
The clock.
The table.
But he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the kitchen.
The countertop was still there.
The plates he’d nearly dropped were sitting safely beside the sink.
It was completely the same.
But it didn’t feel right.
He looked away.
A second later, his eyes drifted back.
His fingers tightened around the glass.
Minho noticed.
“Sung?”
Jisung turned his head to look at him.
“Yeah?”
“What are you worried about?”
…
“What do you mean?”
“You keep looking at the kitchen.”
Jisung blinked.
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
He sighed, forcing his eyes to the cup in his hands.
“I just..”
He swallowed.
“I don’t know. I’m just checking.”
“Checking what?”
Jisung hesitated.
“That everything’s okay.”
Minho’s expression softened.
“It is.”
Jisung nodded.
“I know.”
But his eyes still flicked towards the kitchen.
Minho reached over and gently took the glass from his hands before he could grip it any tighter.
“You don’t have to keep checking.”
Jisung looked down.
“It just feels strange.”
“I know.”
Minho set the glass down.
He shifted a little closer, placing a hand on his thigh.
“You’re safe, Sung.”
Jisung nodded again.
His shoulders relaxed for half a second before tensing at a noise from outside.
His eyes immediately went towards the window.
Just rain.
Nothing else.
He let out a quiet breath.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
Minho smiled faintly.
“You don’t have to apologise every time you get scared.”
Jisung looked down at his hands.
They were still trembling.
He curled them into the blanket instead.
“I just don’t want you to worry.”
“I’m allowed to worry about you.”
Jisung looked up.
“But you shouldn’t have to.”
Minho laughed quietly.
“Sung.”
He gently pulled the blanket higher around Jisung’s shoulders.
“You don’t need to pretend you’re okay just because I’m here.”
Jisung’s expression crumpled.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
A pause.
“Im trying to..”
“That’s okay.”
Jisung leaned back into the sofa.
His head felt heavy.
His limbs felt heavier.
Even keeping his eyes open was a struggle.
He tried to hide a yawn.
Minho noticed anyway.
“You’re falling asleep.”
“I’m not.”
Jisung’s eyes immediately shot open, trying to prove he wasn’t tired.
Minho smiled.
“Right.”
“I can stay awake.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I want to.”
“Why?”
Jisung bit his bottom lip, hesitating.
His voice came out quieter.
“Because I don't want to wake up and you not be here..”
Minho’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Sung.”
He waited until Jisung looked at him.
“I’ll be right here, I’m not going anywhere okay?”
Jisung stared at him for a moment.
Then his shoulders finally dropped.
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief left him, and he let his head rest against Minho’s shoulder.
His eyes fluttered shut.
This time, he wasn’t forcing them open.
Minho stayed exactly where he was.
One hand rested gently over Jisung’s back, the other keeping the blanket around his shoulders.
Outside, the rain continued tapping against the windows.
And slowly, Jisung stopped watching everything around him.
Because he felt safe, and Minho was right there.
Jisung let his head settle more heavily against Minho’s shoulder.
For some time, he was completely still.
His breathing gradually became slower, each breath quieter than the one before.
Every so often his eyes fluttered open and his gaze drifted up, as if he was checking that Minho was still there.
Each time, Minho was.
Eventually he stopped checking.
The tension slowly left Jisung’s shoulders, and his breathing settled into an even rhythm.
Minho looked down at him.
“Get some sleep, Sung.”
Jisung didn’t answer.
He was already asleep.
***
Minho was half asleep when Jisung shifted against his shoulder, blinking slowly and barely opening his eyes.
“Sung?”
Jisung hummed.
“You awake?”
“Mhm.”
There was a long pause.
“Hyung?”
“You alright?”
Jisung frowned sleepily.
“I’ll get you some carrots tomorrow.”
Minho stared at him, a confused look plastered on his face.
“What..?”
“The carrots.”
“You're hardly awake.”
“Still, I owe you some.”
Minho couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
“Go back to sleep.”
Jisung hummed again, already drifting off.
“Okay..”
His hands sat loosely in his lap, no longer gripping the blanket or Minho’s sleeve.
Minho watched him for a moment. He still looked pale, the faint traces of tears still visible beneath his eyes. His hair was slightly messed up from where he’d been lying down, and his face still held the exhaustion from earlier.
But Minho noticed something else.
Jisung wasn’t flinching at the sound of the rain anymore. He wasn’t constantly looking towards the kitchen, or checking his surroundings every few seconds. His hands weren’t twisting nervously in the blanket, and he wasn’t gripping onto Minho’s sleeve like he was afraid he’d disappear.
He was just.. peaceful. Curled up against Minho.
His head rested comfortably against his shoulder, completely trusting that Minho would still be there when he woke up.
Minho smiled faintly.
At least for tonight, Jisung was okay.
The rain continued tapping softly against the windows, filling the apartment with the same quiet sound it had made all evening.
Jisung slept peacefully against his shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. Completely still under the blanket.
Minho looked down at him, carefully brushing a few strands of hair away from his face.
Nothing had been fixed.
They still didn’t know why it had happened, or whether it would happen again. Tomorrow would bring questions, maybe fear, maybe stress. Maybe a lot of things.
But they didn’t need to figure any of that out tonight.
Tonight, Jisung was safe. He was warm, he was resting, and he wasn’t alone.
Minho settled back into the sofa, keeping the blanket around him.
And he stayed there the whole night.