MegMush
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“What’s your name?” asked Minho suddenly, making Jisung halt. “I didn’t catch it.”
Chris honestly wasn’t sure what he expected when Jisung turned around—nothing, perhaps, or some kind of an awkward mumble. Definitely not what actually followed.
“Han Jisung,” he said, his voice barking and sharp like when he rapped. “You better remember it if you want to be in this group because you’ll be singing my songs.”OR:
Half-feral and buzzing with hormones, sixteen-year-old Jisung meets Lee Minho for the first time and decides that Minho is the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Jisung hates him for it.
Or does he?
Bookmarked by MegMush
10 Jan 2026
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Jisung blinks at the screen and replays the card, trying to make sure he’s reading it right and the eye strain from the animation isn’t tricking his mind. No, it’s definitely a promposal. Via e-card. From his childhood best friend, who is very much a university student at JYP University several hundred miles away. 340 miles to be exact. It’s Jisung’s dream school too, he’s required to know things like that.
So how and why is Minho planning to bring him to the prom of a high school he does not actually attend?
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Bookmarked by MegMush
09 Jan 2026
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“I bet you a whole month of convenience store runs that you can’t go a week without touching Minho.”
Jisung scoffed, pushing his bangs off his forehead as he stared at Seungmin, “If you wanted to buy me food that bad, you could have just told me. No need for a stupid bet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Seungmin smirked. “Are we on or what?”
“Oh, it’s on,” Jisung extended his hand to Seungmin and his friend grasped it, pumping it twice. “I can’t wait for a month of free ramen.”
“You sure are cocky for someone who can’t seem to walk down the street without holding Minho’s hand.”
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Bookmarked by MegMush
08 Jan 2026
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For as long as the bar Minho worked at had been hosting Friday night performances, Jisung had been there.
He always sat at the same small table in the back, always alone, always slowly nursing a bottle of beer. He never performed, but it was clear from the way he watched that he wanted to be up there. Minho encouraged him every time, making sure he was there at the end of the night when Jisung finished his drink, snagging the bottle and popping the question, “Will we see you on stage next week?”
Jisung would always look up at him and hesitate, before nodding, “Yeah, next week.”
But the next week he’d be back, huddled at the table alone, his name nowhere to be found on Minho’s list of acts.
Bookmarked by MegMush
08 Jan 2026
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“Why would I want to do that?”
“Why not? What have you got to lose?”
“My dignity,” he mutters under his breath as he flips the pajeon.
"Don’t think of this as going out with your ex to find hot babes. Let’s just go out and have fun together, sing a few songs, have a couple of drinks.”
All things considered, if someone asked Jisung about how he viewed his life, on a scale of one to ten, one being abysmal, ready to become one with the moss and leaves of the forest floor, and ten being ascension, he’s achieved everything he could ever want in life and there is nothing more for him to do on this plane of existence, he would probably put his life at about a solid seven, maybe six. At worst a five.
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Or, Jisung's love life is in a bit of a rut so his ex-wife takes him out to a club for a night of frivolity and karaoke--a gay club to be precise.- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by MegMush
08 Jan 2026