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•≈ ⦕✴⦖ ≈•
He loves Jisung’s thighs.
Theoretically, they aren’t anything impressive. He skips leg day at the gym, he doesn’t dance like Minho does. They’re thin and not particularly strong, but he doesn’t care because they’re gorgeous.
He loves them, loves to touch them and hold them and run his fingers over them. He loves to let his hand wander up them and watch Jisung’s face go bright red. He loves them when the man is naked. All flawless skin and just a little squish when he squeezes them and so very pretty when they’re shining with sweat and spread out on either side of Minho’s hips.
Right now they’re especially gorgeous because at that moment Jisung’s straddling Minho and riding him like his life depends on it.
Minho’s got his hands on those thighs now, dragging his fingers over soft skin that gives under his thumbs. He can see the marks he left there earlier, standing out starkly against the pale skin. Red like little roses, even in the darkness of his room. And every time he touches them Jisung jolts over him, shivering and letting the loveliest of sounds spill out from between his lips.
As the muscles in the man’s legs flex, Jisung lifts himself up before grinding back down on Minho’s dick. It feels heavenly. Jisung’s impossibly tight around him, hot and willing and clenching every time he hits his own sweet spot. And Minho is more than happy to watch him do it, more than happy to encourage him with the hands he’s got on the man’s thighs.
Everything about Jisung is beautiful at times like this. His chest, heaving with each panting breath he takes. His round cheeks, flushed so red Minho can see it even in the poor lighting. His hair, that bounces with every one of his needy movements. Minho loves it, loves the way his face scrunches up and his plump lips fall open to gasp out a soft curse.
Then again, he thinks he loves everything about Han Jisung.
“You’re doing so well,” Minho praises, his own voice husky and breaking around the edges. “You’re so pretty, Hannie, fucking yourself on me. Does it feel good?”
Nodding frantically, Jisung tries to speed up his movements, impaling himself again and again on Minho’s cock. His own dick bobs between them, untouched but still leaking, dribbling pre-cum down over his length like a broken faucet. It’s such a beautiful sight. Minho almost wants to touch him, but he thinks he likes this better, likes watching Jisung fall apart with this alone.
Humming low in his throat, Minho shifts his hands up to Jisung’s hips, mapping out his tiny waist like he doesn’t already have it memorized. “Are you going to say it out loud?” He likes pushing Jisung, likes the way he swallows heavily and whines, tipping his head back until his bangs fall out of his eyes.
“But- But you already know.” Oh his voice is so nice like this, absolutely gone, nothing but a whimper. Minho always likes Jisung’s voice but it’s especially gorgeous right now. Like the rest of him.
“Come on.” As he speaks, Minho bucks his own hips up and revels in the heavy shudder Jisung gives. “I want to hear you use your words.”
Jisung’s face gets, if possible, even more flushed. The hand he has on Minho’s leg to brace himself grips more firmly. “It- It feels good,” he manages, tightening around Minho as he says it.
Continuing to thrust into Jisung, Minho gives a messy smirk. “I bet it does. Look at you falling apart for me. You’re gorgeous.”
As his own movements start to stutter, Jisung whines louder. His hand starts to twitch towards his neglected erection, but Minho catches it and holds him still, ignoring the complaints that instantly start spilling from him.
“Please-“ Jisung moans, his breathing unstable, his whole body shaking over Minho. “Please I’m so close, Minho pl ease.” His voice breaks in the middle of the word, becoming a groan as Minho grinds up against his prostate.
Oh he loves listening to Jisung beg, he loves watching those desperate words fall from his mouth. He loves how completely unable to stop them he is. Running his fingers over the man’s thighs once more, Minho tightens his grip so he can drive himself up into Jisung with more accuracy. “No one is stopping you from cumming.”
Moaning helplessly, Jisung rolls his hips with the man’s movements. His whole body gleams with sweat, shining in the low light, dancing like starlight. Catching Minho’s gaze, holding it desperately, he opens his mouth, clearly trying to form coherent words, but all that comes out is a groan. “Please. Please Minho-“
“Please what, Hannie?” He already knows what Jisung wants, but he wants to hear it. He loves watching him break down like this. “If you don’t tell me I won’t know.”
Thighs flexing, throat bobbing, Jisung looks away as embarrassment blooms across his face. It’s a little late for that in Minho’s opinion but the man gets helplessly flustered in moments like this and it’s as hot as it is adorable. “I- I need-“ He swallows again and whines loudly, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “I need you.”
“You already have me.” He does, in more ways than just physical. Minho would give this beautiful man anything he wants, anything he asks for. Jisung has his entire heart and soul, has had it since they met years ago. Not that he intends to get that sappy right now, not when he has Jisung so close to breaking down and begging.
The hand Minho still has captured jerks against his grip and Jisung tries to hide behind his bangs. “That’s not what I meant.” His words tremble almost as much as he does.
Slowing down his pace, until he’s just rolling his hips, grinding against Jisung’s sweet spot, Minho smiles up at him. “Then what did you mean?”
Puffing out his cheeks, Jisung whines again. Knowing exactly what he’s doing, Minho keeps up his tortuously slow movements, loving the way the flush on Jisung’s face spreads down over his throat and chest. Past all the little marks he’d left behind earlier.
“Please-“ His voice shakes, threatening to fall apart just like he is. “Please touch me. I- I need you to touch me.”
Well if he’s going to ask like that- How could Minho ever deny his beautiful boyfriend?
Letting go of the man’s hand, he reaches up and is unsurprised when Jisung surges forward, closing his lips around his fingers enthusiastically. As he sucks on them, wrapping his tongue around the digits and moaning obscenely, he starts bouncing on Minho’s lap once again. Though his movements are jerky, he makes up for it with sheer desperation, rolling and grinding and clenching around Minho perfectly.
Pulling his hand away, Minho chuckles breathlessly at the whimper of complaint that escapes Jisung. “Don’t cry,” he murmurs. “Come kiss me.”
As Jisung eagerly dives in for a kiss, Minho takes over once more. Wrapping his now saliva-coated hand around Jisung’s dick, he tightens his hold on the man’s thigh and snaps his hips up. The moan that Jisung gives is almost like a sob, and he hungrily eats it off his lips as he begins to stroke him. Slow at first, but soon matching his thrusts, dragging the man closer to an orgasm.
He loves the sound of his name on Jisung’s lips, he loves the feeling of his sweat-soaked skin sliding against his own. He loves the way he shivers and falls apart and begs helplessly for more.
Minho adores Jisung. And though he’s always lucky to have him, it’s moments like this where he really feels blessed to have such a wonderful boyfriend.
As his own edge starts coming, Minho’s movements become more purposeful. Bracing himself with his heels, the man slams into Jisung’s prostate again and again, pulling groan after groan from him as he does. Thumbing the slit of the man’s dick, Minho revels in the choked sound his boyfriend lets out. “Are you getting close, Jisungie?” he asks. “Are you going to cum for me?”
“Yes,” Jisung all but sobs, tightening up around Minho helplessly, his fingers closing over the hand Minho has on his dick. “Yes Minho I- I’m so close- Please-“
“Then cum.”
He does. Seizing up, clenching tightly around Minho’s dick, mouth silently forming around a cry of pleasure, Jisung comes, splattering both of their chests with white. Still moving his hand, milking every drop from the man that he can, Minho watches transfixed as an expression of ecstasy passes over Jisung’s face, watches as his bangs fall away from his face and his eyes blearily open and catch on his own.
It’s that expression that does him in. That beautiful, absolutely blissed out look on his boyfriend’s face. Tensing, Minho manages a couple more shallow thrusts before he’s coming as well, clenching Jisung’s thigh tight enough to leave bruises as he does. As his vision goes patchy with stars, he leans back into the pillows and just lets his orgasm wash over him.
When he comes to enough to form coherent thought, Minho reaches up and pulls Jisung down into a kiss. Just a slow, simple shift of lips against lips. Something so soft and sweet that it has his emotions welling up into a knot under his ribs.
He loves this man. Completely and irrevocably.
Moments like these remind him of just how powerful those emotions really are.
As he shifts and Jisung lets out a small whine against his mouth, Minho chuckles breathlessly. Rolling them both over, he pulls out of the other man before dragging him closer into a smothering hug. After a moment, it’s returned, Jisung’s arms snaking around his waist and clinging to him.
“You’re so beautiful,” Minho hums, running his fingers through Jisung’s hair, untangling the snarls that have found their way into the dyed dirty blond strands.
Huffing, Jisung manages a tired laugh that he presses into the crook of Minho’s neck. “Not as pretty as you.”
Feigning offense, Minho gives a tiny gasp. “Trying to one-up me? After I fucked you and everything?”
That earns him an elbow in the ribs that isn’t nearly as sharp as it could have been. As they roll apart, Jisung makes a show of rolling his eyes. “I was trying to be sweet but okay.”
Watching him from the corner of his eyes, Minho snorts. “I already know I’m gorgeous. I just want to make sure you know you’re beautiful as well.” He feels good, tired and sore in exactly the right way. And the light banter leaves him warm. Content at a level he can’t describe, even if he had a hundred years to do so.
Maybe one hundred and one would be enough…
Grumbling under his breath, trying and failing to control his smile, Jisung snuggles back up against Minho. As he presses his back against the man’s chest, he lets out an exasperated but fond sigh. “You’re impossible. I-“
And for a second, he hesitates, before finally settling on, “I can’t believe I put up with you.”
Minho’s smile freezes but he hides it with an arm slung around Jisung’s shoulders. “Oh just admit it, you love me.”
Snorting, Jisung reaches for the covers and drags them over their swiftly cooling bodies. “Yeah yeah, I love you.”
There it is.
“Mmhm. That’s what I thought.” Ruffling Jisung’s hair, Minho chuckles. “I love you too.”
Jisung’s good at being affectionate physically. Verbally too, most of the time, but there’s always that hesitation. That moment where he has to decide if they’re in the right place to be affectionate. Even though he’s used to it, even though it’s been there since the very beginning, it still leaves a bad taste in Minho’s throat.
But he tries to bury it. He’s happy. Happier than he’s ever been before. And if the price of that happiness is that he has to keep its source a secret, then it’s a price he’s willing to pay.
Because that’s what they are. A secret.
Pulling Jisung closer, listening as his breathing starts to even back out, Minho stares blankly at his wall. The man fits against him perfectly, like they were made for each other. Like we’re soulmates. That’s what Jisung always said, long before they actually got together. We’re soulmates, hyung! with one of those big, heart shaped smiles all across his face. And even though there’s no such thing, at moments like this Minho absolutely believes him.
With how he acts, around their friends, or when they’re in public together, you wouldn’t think he’d bother keeping their relationship a secret. It had surprised Minho for sure, when Jisung had shied away from genuine public displays of affection. Even around their friends, many of whom are openly gay, he hesitates. And he’s never never actually told anyone they’re together.
Admittedly, they didn’t start out like this. Even though Minho had fallen hard pretty early on, they’d been friends first. They’d met in college, thanks to some mutual friends. Minho had known Seungmin and Seungmin had known Chan and Chan had known Jisung. From the second they’d met, they’d gotten on like a house on fire, practically inseparable.
He’d never really thought of it in terms of feelings, but subconsciously he thinks he was aware he was falling. Before Jisung, he’d been a bit of a wild one. Hooking up, sleeping around, having fun. It was college, you had fun in college. But then Jisung had become increasingly more and more important, and somewhere along the line, Minho had stopped. Not because he felt he had to, not because Jisung ever asked him to, but because somewhere in the back of his head it became hard to fuck around when he had feelings for someone else.
They’d stayed in that holding pattern for a while. Close, but never that kind of close. Flirtatious but never serious. Lost in each other’s eyes, but too confused to know what it meant.
It hadn’t really been a surprise when it had gone further.
Minho still remembers it, that moment in Jisung’s kitchen. Half a bottle of wine in and talking about something stupid and so close to Jisung that he could feel the man’s breath on his face. He doesn’t remember who leaned in first, but he remembers that first kiss being electric.
He remembers Jisung’s very blatant suggestion of, Let’s fuck, and he remembers how eagerly he’d responded.
Minho also remembers the bruises on his hips after being fucked within an inch of his life.
That had been a year and a half ago, more or less. He’s long since forgotten the exact day. They’d called it friends-with-benefits and Jisung had even gone to the trouble of laying down silly ground rules. As if they hadn’t both been hopelessly in love already. As if either of them had been any good at hiding it.
But Minho also knows that at the time, there hadn’t exactly been room to talk those feelings out. It had been too desperate. Always frantic to touch each other, still laughing awkwardly as they stripped, too taken to do anything else. Emotions were complicated, pinning each other to the bed or against a wall or on one memorable occasion, the refrigerator, had been so much simpler.
When it started, Minho had tried not to feel things. Had tried to keep denying the truth as long as possible because he didn’t want to ruin this. He didn’t want to lose Jisung. Couldn’t bear the thought of a life where he didn’t have this dumbass as a friend.
But it hadn’t taken long for the charade to fall apart.
Minho doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that night. It had been deep into September, after a not-date that had definitely been a date, and a night of making love that they’d called fucking to make it easier. He’d been prepared to let it go by like every other night, prepared to roll over to his side of the bed and be up before Jisung in the morning. Prepared to sleep on a broken heart.
But he hadn’t had to, because that’s when Jisung had said those three words.
Such a tiny I love you, so much smaller than his usual silly declarations of adoration. But it had been the first time he said it like that. With such clear affection that Minho couldn’t pass it off as an accident, couldn’t pretend like he was drunk and didn’t mean it.
Because he had meant it. So clearly that it had left Minho speechless.
It had taken him a while to answer, almost a full minute spent with his face in Jisung’s chest and his heart flopping weakly against his ribs. After all his attempts to bury his feelings and pretend they weren’t real and pretend that it really was just for the sex, here was Jisung accepting him with open arms. And he’d been more than willing to wait there for Minho to put the pieces together for himself.
Minho’s answering I love you too had been quiet, just like Jisung’s. But he’d meant it with his whole heart.
Because he didn’t need to keep pushing it down, he didn’t need to keep pretending. He didn’t have to look away from Jisung, terrified that he’d see everything in his eyes and run the other way. Minho didn’t have to pretend that just sex was enough, because how could it ever be enough?
He remembers the sweetness of that moment, of not having to subsist on what he could get. He remembers the perfection of finally being allowed to have.
Retrospectively, it made sense that Jisung figured it out first. He was always better with his emotions, much less afraid of feeling things and being honest about it. Minho knows how much baggage he has when it comes to being open, so he’s glad one of them knows what they’re doing. And he supposes it’s fair, because Jisung doesn’t have other parts figured out at all.
As he snuggles closer to his boyfriend, Minho closes his eyes and breathes in. They both smell like sweat and sex, but under it is Jisung. His shampoo that Minho hates, the smell of the chocolate cheesecake they’d shared earlier, and something warm and musky underneath that’s all him. To Minho, it smells like comfort. Like home.
Shifting slightly, Jisung catches one of Minho’s hands and brings it to his lips. Just the smallest brush over his knuckles, but so tender that it might kill him.
He’s glad that he gets these moments, where they’re both quiet and tangled together under the sheets. Because he doesn’t get them the rest of the time. Oh sure, Jisung’s affectionate. Obnoxiously so sometimes, but most of the time it’s a joke. A big public display that doesn’t mean a thing, that could just as easily be pointed at any of their friends and still look the same.
The real affection is always much smaller, always in private and so careful. Because heaven forbid he ever show how in love he is openly.
Mouth twitching, Minho tries to squash that little voice in the back of his head. He may not understand, but he recognizes the flash of panic in Jisung’s eyes when he lets a genuine I love you slip in public. Every time he touches Minho for too long, or stares at him too softly, or uses a pet name. Even in front of their friends, he freezes up. And even though it kills Minho, he never pushes.
He wants to, admittedly. Some days, all Minho wants to do is tell everyone. He wants to look his friends in the eyes and say that he’s got a boyfriend and that it’s Jisung and that he’s happy. Especially because he wasn’t for so long. Hell, sometimes he wants to shout it from the rooftops how in love he is. But…
But he can’t.
He remembers trying, once. When they’d first confessed their feelings for each other and finally gotten together, he’d started to bring it up to someone as a joke, and he’d seen the way Jisung froze up. Had felt the man’s muscles tense against his side and felt his stomach drop at the sheer terror in Jisung’s eyes.
Admittedly, Minho had never pegged Jisung as someone who’d want to keep something like this a secret but maybe he should have seen it coming. The man is an introvert. He gets flustered easily and cries almost as quickly as Hyunjin does. More than anything he’s cripplingly aware of what other people think about him, and apparently he cares about those opinions whether he should or not.
Even though Minho wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter what people think, and that he should nut up and be himself no matter what… He holds his tongue. It’s a small thing, in the grand scheme of things. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. If it means keeping Jisung, being allowed to hold him and run his fingers through his hair and kiss him until they’re both breathless, then Minho can respect the man’s need for privacy.
He loves Jisung dearly. If he couldn’t handle a secret relationship, he wouldn’t be here.
He’s learned how to be careful. How to be quiet. Minho’s always been better at showing his love through actions rather than words, so maybe it’s actually easier this way. At least Jisung doesn’t expect him to be a sap, doesn’t expect him to fall over himself with endless declarations of adoration. Because he definitely couldn’t manage that.
In a way, this arrangement is a blessing. Right?
Minho’s never been good at saying ‘I love you’, but for Jisung he tries. In those narrow moments where he can, where he’s allowed, where he knows Jisung won’t try to run away. He tries to be genuine because he wants the man to know. Even if this always is a secret, even if he feels like they’re keeping it from each other half the time, he wants Jisung to remember.
Sometimes, Minho’s worried that he won’t , but like the rest of his concerns, he tries not to think about it.
Even if Jisung wants to keep them quiet, Minho’s happy. What they have now is plenty. They’re in love, they’re together, it’s so much better than having to pine uselessly over something he can never have. At least like this, he’s allowed to feel things. He’s allowed to grab Jisung’s hand over the dinner table, and sit in his lap while they watch movies together on the couch.
It’s enough.
If he repeats that to himself enough times, eventually it’ll be true.
Beside him, Jisung stirs and tries to sit up, pulling Minho out of his spiral of thoughts.
“Where’re you going?” His voice is scratchy from overuse. “It’s bedtime.”
Giving one of his laughs that’s less a sound and more a little shake of his shoulders, Jisung rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah, but I’ve got to get up early tomorrow morning. I figured I’d just, y’know…” He gestures to his body loosely. “Clean myself up and get out of here.”
Furrowing his brows, Minho scoffs and wraps an arm around Jisung’s waist. Despite the man’s protests, he allows himself to be dragged down to the mattress. “You can clean yourself up but you’re staying here.” He says it in his sternest voice. “It’s late, I don’t want you driving home.”
“It’s not a big deal, Minho,” Jisung mutters, even though he doesn’t try to move. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before.”
“Yeah, and I said no.” Pulling him closer, treating him for all the world like a large stuffed animal, Minho shoves his face into the crook of Jisung’s neck. “You’re staying.”
Chuckling, Jisung ghosts a hand over Minho’s back, just barely running his blunt nails along the man’s spine. “You’re ridiculous.”
Frowning at the unfair characterization, Minho flatly states, “I’m not in this just for the sex. Some of us like the cuddling afterward as well.”
The hand on Minho’s back pauses for a moment before resuming its gentle scratching. “Will you at least let me wash up?”
Letting out a long suffering sigh, Minho lifts his arm and tries not to grumble too much as Jisung slips away. “Just come back,” he mutters, lying back on his bed and splaying out tiredly.
“I will.”
Then Jisung is gone, and the sound of running water elsewhere in the apartment fills the silence.
He’s not sure how long it is before Jisung returns. Long enough that he thinks he drifts off for a while, long enough that by the time he gets back, Minho has entirely lost track of the concept of time. But he’s still awake enough that he feels the man slip under the sheets beside him, and he manages to find enough energy to wrap his arms around Jisung’s torso.
The man’s body is still warm from his shower, and Minho instantly sinks into that, cuddling closer until they’re intertwined, legs tangled and fingers laced together. They fit together perfectly, and again he’s left to wonder if this is what Jisung means when he calls them soulmates.
Two pieces of the same puzzle, made for each other in every way.
Pressing his nose into the fine hairs at the back of Jisung’s neck, Minho draws in a slow breath and feels something warm settle in his stomach when he catches a whiff of his shampoo.
“You smell good,” he hums happily, as his breath skitters over Jisung’s back. “And you’re so warm. I was getting cold.”
Jisung’s laugh is small, just a little tired like he’s already drifting off too. “Well we can’t have that.”
“Absolutely not.” As Jisung stills in his arms, Minho pulls himself out of sleep for just long enough to press a tender kiss to the top of the man’s head. Just one, but he hopes it says everything that he’s too tired to expound upon, all the ‘I love you’s’ that he’s missed the chance to say.
Thankfully for both of them, Jisung is willing to cross that line. After a period of silence, long after Minho has relaxed into the sheets once more and his hold on the other has loosened, he speaks, so small and soft, almost like he’s afraid to be heard.
“I love you.”
Just like the first time.
How often does it feel like the first time?
As he lies there, Jisung’s hair tickling his nose, allowing the threads of sleep to tug him away, Minho feels a knot of something unpleasant seize up in his chest. Swiftly, it grows, until it’s filling up his stomach and his lungs, until it’s reaching clawed hands around his heart.
He loves Jisung.
But at that moment, he hates this whole situation. He hates keeping them a secret.
Unfortunately, he’s not going to solve it tonight. And he probably won’t be able to change it tomorrow either. So he lets himself be miserable for a moment before shoving it all back down where it can’t hurt him. Where he can just be happy he has Jisung, and not think about all the strings attached.
Closing his eyes resolutely, Minho forces himself to find sleep.
Eventually, he’ll be fine.
•≈ ⦕✴⦖ ≈•
It’s been a year.
Minho sees the date on his phone calendar and checks it against the physical calendar he has hanging up in the hall. He’d known it was coming up subconsciously but seeing it is exciting, a little thrill of feeling that sends happy electricity coursing down his spine and out through his toes.
It’s their anniversary. Part of him can’t believe they’ve lasted a year, but the rest of him knows that there was no way they wouldn’t have. He and Jisung work well together, mesh in a way that not many people do. A year is nothing.
Still, it’s something to celebrate.
When he sees the date, only a week away, his fingers itch for his phone. He knows Jisung is probably at work but Minho wants to call him. That or text him and tell him that it’s coming. That they’ve made it even though there was never a doubt that they would.
The only thing that holds him back is the looming worry that Jisung will be weird about it.
Everything is so secretive, a call or a text might be too much. And Jisung no doubt already knows. It’s an important date, and he’s good about dates. He never misses Minho’s birthday, and more importantly, he never misses the cats’ birthdays either. Jisung remembers Minho’s parents’ anniversary, and always gets their friends something on special days. Of course he’s going to remember something like this, even if he won’t be interested in making a big deal about it.
But Minho wants to make a big deal about it. He wants to throw a party or go out on a fancy date or maybe take Jisung somewhere exciting. He wants to make this an event even if they put the veneer of doing it as friends over it.
It’s Hyunjin that actually gives him an idea for how to do it, after Minho’s finishing up with one of his dance classes.
With only his reflection as a warning, the lanky man drapes himself over Minho’s shoulders with a sigh, his eyes fixed on the wall mirror in front of them both. “So are you coming to the charity dinner?”
As he dabs at the sweat still collecting at his hairline, Minho glances up at Hyunjin’s eternally pouty expression. “The what?”
“Oh don’t tell me you forgot, hyung.” Playing absently with Minho’s hair, the other dancer conversationally reminds him, “Felix’s thingy. You know, the one he tries to rope us into every year?”
“Oh, right…” Minho vaguely remembers them saying something about it coming up. He’s never been, but he’s definitely heard all about it, now that Hyunjin is reminding him. Something about a fancy dinner, the sort of thing you got out the suit for, with all of the proceeds going to whichever good cause Felix was supporting this year. “Doesn’t he usually style it as a couple’s event or something?”
Waving off the question, Hyunjin scoffs. “I’m going with Innie, it’s not necessarily for couples. It’s just a nice dinner.” When Minho lifts an eyebrow, Hyunjin sticks out his bottom lip further. “It is good food, it’s Felix’s family who caters for it.”
“No, I’m not disagreeing with the quality of the food.” Briefly ducking out of Hyunjin’s hold, Minho stuffs the dirty rag back into his bag. “But I repeat, it’s for couples.” Instantly, his mind flashes to Jisung, but he beats that traitorous idea down with a stick. Because it’s not like he can give it voice. Instead he mutters, “Who do I have to even go with?”
Hyunjin just stares at him as though he’s being stupid, which feels distinctly weird because usually it’s the other way around. “One of your friends…?” When Minho keeps scowling at him, the man wilts slightly and sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. “It’d mean a lot to Felix if you came. Since everyone else always does, y’know, and he works so hard on it…”
Obviously, he’s guilt tripping Minho, but it’s also working. He’s got a point, Chan and Seungmin always go to these things, and ever since Changbin and Felix became a thing, Changbin has made a point of tagging along too. If the man has managed to pull Hyunjin and Jeongin into it, that really does leave him the odd man out.
Well, him and probably Jisung.
Looking away from Hyunjin’s perfect puppy eyes, Minho pulls a face. “What day is it?”
Perking up at once, Hyunjin does a happy bounce on the balls of his feet. “It’s on the twenty-third!”
This Friday… Instantly, his mind supplies him with an image of his calendar. My anniversary. A second later, a thought starts to bubble up, and a smile he quickly tries to hide starts creeping up on his face. It’s just a little crazy, but he deserves some crazy once in a while.
If everyone wants him to go to a fancy couples dinner… Then why not? He’s got a plus one, and it’s the perfect kind of place to go for a special day. Yes it’s more public than Jisung would usually go for, but they’ve got the perfect cover. Hyunjin is practically begging him to come, and he’s willing to bet Felix has tried to convince Jisung to go as well. Their friends will expect them to be there.
No one has to know about the other details.
As long as he can get Jisung to agree, it’ll be perfect. Minho will get to have his nice anniversary dinner, and Jisung will have his little excuses so no one asks uncomfortable questions.
“I might be free,” Minho hums at last, turning a cat’s smile in Hyunjin’s direction.
Which of course earns him the biggest grin and an excited, “Great! I’ll tell Felix.”
All that leaves Minho with is the task of convincing Jisung.
Admittedly, he puts it off. Minho doesn’t ask him that night when they both grab dinner together, and he doesn’t ask him the morning after either. Although he keeps telling himself that it’ll be fine and Jisung will of course say yes, maybe something in him knows that it’ll be an argument, because he leaves it until practically the last minute to do.
It’s not until he gets the text from Felix, punctuated with a thousand exclamation marks, about how he’s so excited to see him there, that Minho finally decides to get it over with.
He already knows Jisung is free, they’d planned on spending the evening together anyway. So he doesn’t even bother prefacing the text with the usual niceties, he just comes right out and asks it, trying his best to already couch it in palatable terms.
From: Minho [12:24 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
So you know that charity dinner Felix always
holds?
From: Minho [12:24 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
Do you want to go?
From: Minho [12:24 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
It’s on Friday.
From: Minho [12:25 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
Since it’s such a special night, I thought it
might be nice for us to go.
From: Minho [12:25 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
And since I’ve never been.
Pursing his lips, staring down at his own flurry of texts, Minho waits. It’s definitely a lot more pushy than he usually is, but in his defense, this is important. They’ll only have their first anniversary once. And no matter how careful Jisung wants to be now, Minho hopes there eventually comes a time when they’re out in the open about it and they’ll have something to look back on.
A silly, sentimental thought, yes, but Minho’s allowed to be silly and sentimental sometimes. When it’s Jisung, he can hardly help himself.
He’s already imagining it. He’s got that suit he wore for Seungmin’s sister’s wedding that he hasn’t worn since, and he knows Jisung has some very sharp outfits. The two of them will get all dressed up, and no doubt get some stunning pictures and Minho will finally have an excuse to get something printed and framed. Yes their friends will be there, but the dinner itself will be practically private. And really, who’s going to question him if he stares at Jisung across the table for a little longer than necessary.
Absolutely no one, is who.
The phone in Minho’s hand buzzes and he pulls himself back to reality.
From: Hannie <3 [12:34 PM, Wednesday]
To: Minho
isn’t that a couples event?
As his stomach sinks, Minho curses himself. Because yes, it is, that’s the whole point. I just want one nice date, just somewhere I can take you out and show you off. Is that too much to ask?
Yes, because he knows Jisung’s limits and boundaries. The man is trying to keep them secret, going somewhere like this where people expect couples is just asking to be noticed.
But Minho’s feeling particularly stubborn. Maybe it’s the momentary despair curling in his gut, turning into bitter determination, but he’s not going to let this go. It’s their anniversary. He’s put up with Jisung’s desperate need for secrecy for the rest of the year, the man can give him this one night.
From: Minho [12:37 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
Yeah traditionally.
From: Minho [12:37 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
But it’ll be fine, right?
From: Minho [12:38 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
It’s not like we’ll act like it.
The assurances crush his soul, just a bit. If this is what it takes, he won’t. Even if Jisung looks spectacular in a suit, with his sharp shoulders and slim waist and natural presence that slips past the anxiety, Minho won’t openly claim him as his man. No matter how much he wants to.
Why can’t it just be simple for once?
Jisung’s response only dampens his spirits more.
From: Hannie <3 [12:41 PM, Wednesday]
To: Minho
people are gonna assume stuff.
Good, he wants to text back. Let them. But he doesn’t; wouldn’t say it even if Jisung was sitting across from him. Being inflammatory would only put the man’s hackles up.
Instead, Minho bounces his knee and tugs at his earring before responding.
From: Minho [12:43 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
No they won’t, it’ll be fine.
From: Minho [12:43 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
Hyunjin and Jeongin are going and they
definitely aren’t a thing.
And then, because he’s selfish and his stomach hurts, Minho goes for the quick and dirty victory shot.
The guilt trip.
From: Minho [12:44 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
It’ll make Felix happy if we go.
Instantly he feels awful. Using Felix against Jisung is low, lower than he’d usually stoop, lower than he’s stooped in a while. He knows how close the two of them are, how they’ve been friends for ages, how Felix can convince Jisung to do almost anything. Even go on a date he’s clearly uncomfortable with.
Silently, regretfully, Minho watches as the little dots that signify Jisung typing dance. And dance. And dance some more. This is where he gets angry with me, isn’t it? Where he insists they spend the night inside doing something quiet, or worse, he tells Minho to go on his own. Neither of those things are what he wants, but the longer he watches Jisung type, the more he realizes the truth.
I’ve made him sad.
That’s the last thing he wants, and yet here he is. He just wants Jisung to be happy, but if his own misery is anything to go by, Minho definitely hasn’t made anyone happy.
Finally, a new message pops up, and the fact it isn’t long after all that typing makes the hole in his insides a little bigger.
From: Hannie <3 [12:50 PM, Wednesday]
To: Minho
it’s fine I’ll come.
Turning off his phone, Minho’s lips twist and he stuffs it back in his pocket. This is stupid, he’s being stupid. It’s just a day, right? Just an anniversary. They’ll have more of them, he shouldn’t pressure Jisung into anything. He should be texting the man back right now and telling him that it’s fine and they can stay home and they don’t have to do a damn thing if he doesn’t want to.
But he doesn’t, he just stares blankly at the wall and tries to stifle the pressure in his chest.
It’ll be fine, he tells himself for the rest of the day. We’ll have a good time, and maybe Jisung will loosen up! Maybe being in public together with that uncertainty of how people saw them would show the man that it wasn’t that bad. That they could be open about this relationship and no one would care.
It also might make it worse.
He tries not to obsess over it. The extent he thinks about it is sending a quick text to Jisung with the details. When he’s picking the man up, what he’s wearing so Jisung can avoid matching if it matters that much to him. Any time his mind strays further than that, Minho puts a hard stop to it and changes directions. He’s made his bed, he’s going to lie in it, and he’s going to like it.
Jisung’s going to like it too. Hopefully.
There are a couple of times where he considers inviting Jisung over to talk this through like adults, or just giving him a call. But instead, he ignores it. If he doesn’t acknowledge the knot in his chest, then it isn’t there. That’s how emotions work.
Unfortunately, this deliberate ignorance doesn’t last forever, and the thing that makes it crumble is the only person Minho knows who is more stubborn than himself.
“Do you want me to turn the TV off? You’re not even paying attention to it.”
Minho doesn’t actually know why he accepted Seungmin’s invitation to hang out. He’s had a lot on his mind and he should know from experience that Seungmin can sniff things like that out from a mile away. The man is a bullshit detector like none other -except for himself, of course.
But maybe he’d said yes for that exact reason. It had been ages since he’d seen Seungmin outside of the rest of their friend group, and as up in his own head as he’s been, maybe he needs someone who will smack it out of him.
Which is exactly what Seungmin is doing now, pausing the cute but ultimately meaningless drama they’re watching and staring across the couch at Minho.
“I’m fine,” he mutters half-heartedly, staring down at the glass of wine in his hand. “Keep playing it.”
“Right.” One of Seungmin’s eyebrows slowly inches up his forehead. “Fine.”
Waving his hand absently at the TV, Minho takes a sip of his drink. “Put the drama back on, I’ll figure it out.” He has been. He’s not even thinking about it right now, that’s how much he’s figured it out. Instead he’s having a good time with Seungmin and not moping.
Why would I ever do something like that?
The wine swirls around his glass lazily.
Narrowing his eyes, Seungmin slowly sets the remote down, like it’s the period at the end of a sentence. For a moment, he just stares at Minho, then he shakes his head and looks away. “So… I heard you and Jisung are going to Felix’s event.” He says it off-handedly, almost like he’s trying to distract Minho from whatever he’s thinking about, but of course, it only makes it worse because alright fine, that’s all he’s been thinking about today.
Turning his glass in his fingers, Minho mutters, “Yeah, we are.” Then, because he has to, he adds, “As friends.”
The eyebrow Seungmin already has raised disappears under his bangs. “I see.” After a beat, he draws a breath and asks with more sympathy than he’d usually show, “Did you two break up?”
Despite how gently the question had been asked, Minho still splutters and lurches upright. “I- How did you-? We weren’t- We never told-!”
“Oh please, you’ve been dating for years,” Seungmin dismisses, waving a hand, tone back to normal. “So you did break up. You know you could have just opened with that tonight instead of brooding over there for the past few hours. I would have at least tried to comfort you.”
“We didn’t break up,” Minho stresses, still baffled as to how Seungmin of all people found out in the first place. “And we haven’t been dating for years, it’s been a year. How did you even find out about us? Did Jisung tell you?” Wouldn’t that be the most comical of betrayals. All this suffering only for Jisung to not care in the first place and tell everyone. “I can’t believe he’d-“
“Okay woah, no, he didn’t, calm down.” Holding out a hand, Seungmin stares at Minho for a long moment, like he’s trying to decide if the man has gone crazy. “I’m sorry, was this supposed to be a secret?”
Oh for the love of- “You haven’t told anyone, have you?” As a sudden stab of fear cuts through him, he lurches in Seungmin’s direction. “Please tell me you haven’t.”
“What the- No I haven’t gone around talking to people about your relationship. I don’t even talk about my own relationship that much, why would I care about yours?” Waving him away, Seungmin grimaces. “But just so we’re clear, you two couldn’t possibly be more obvious. I’m glad you keep the PDA to a minimum but trust me that’s not enough to keep it quiet.” As though his own words are only just registering, Seungmin squints down at the floor, a bewildered expression crossing his face. “Hang on, why are you of all people keeping this a secret?”
“I-“ Pinching the bridge of his nose for several seconds, Minho almost says I’m not supposed to talk about it. One look at Seungmin’s face, however, suggests he’s not going to get away with that. “It’s complicated.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Seungmin swings himself to his feet and grabs for the bottle of wine. After topping off Minho’s glass, he settles back onto the couch. “Well luckily for you, Chan doesn’t get home until late so we’ve basically got all night.”
He shouldn’t. That being said, he absolutely does.
It all comes out. The friends-with-benefits situation, the getting together, the keeping it a secret, Jisung’s weird boundaries that he’s done his best to handle. Minho hadn’t realized he had so much to say until it was pouring out in a miserable tirade, all over Seungmin’s couch. Without thinking, he’s spilling details that he hadn’t even registered. Things that have made him upset, moments that cut him deeper than he’d thought. Annoyances and frustrations that he hasn’t been able to talk about because no one knows and Jisung gets so cagey when he starts discussing their relationship.
“-so I thought that maybe this dinner thing would be a good place to show him it’s not that big a deal, but now he’s being quiet about it and I know he’s upset but he won’t tell me. He never tells me. He just goes silent and tries to deal with it himself and I’m this close to calling it off entirely.” Finishing off his third glass of wine, Minho stares angrily at the couch cushions. “What’s the point in going if neither of us are going to have fun?”
Shaking his head, Seungmin lets a slow breath out through his teeth. “I- Wow. You know, I thought it couldn’t possibly be as bad as you were treating it, but somehow, it’s worse. Congratulations hyung, you somehow have the most complicated relationship I’ve ever come across.”
Waving a bitter hand, Minho mumbles, “You and Chan-hyung are just… Lucky. I don’t know.”
Steepling his fingers together, Seungmin purses his lips over them. “No, we’re just normal.” When Minho just rolls his eyes and looks away, the man hurries to continue. “Look, I’m not trying to judge but- Okay I’m going to judge a little bit. Really? Jisung of all people wants to keep it quiet?”
“Yeah.” Focusing on his empty glass, Minho looks to the bottle on the coffee table and considers pouring himself another. “I don’t want to keep it quiet. I hate keeping it quiet. And apparently it isn’t even working.” Shooting a quick glance to Seungmin, he narrows his eyes. “Don’t you dare tell him that you know. He’ll- I don’t know, but it probably won’t be great.”
Pulling a face, Seungmin finally heaves a sigh. “Fine fine, I won’t, I’m just- I guess confused? Jisung’s always so touchy-feely with everyone, but especially with you! Does he think people aren’t going to guess?” When Minho just stares at him, Seungmin leans back and crosses his arms. “Look, I’ve met some down low guys, hyung. I know what they act like. They do not act like Jisung in public. They act-“ He waves a hand. “Straight? Or at least they try to. Jisung doesn’t.”
“Yeah I- I realize that.” Giving into his impulses, Minho reaches for the bottle. “Look, I don’t know. If it were someone else, I’d question them but it’s Jisung.” I don’t want to rock the boat, he doesn’t add, even though the words are on the tip of his tongue.
Instead, he pours himself another drink and curls back in on himself.
Shaking his head, Seungmin finally offers, “Do you want me to ask Channie to talk to him about it? Because the rest of us definitely aren’t going to judge him, and staying in the closet isn’t good for anyone. I can’t really think of any other reasons he’d be keeping this silent.”
“No,” Minho mumbles around the lip of his glass. “Please don’t. I’m not supposed to tell people, I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Yes, you should have,” Seungmin decides. “I’m absolutely fascinated by the fact that someone has you of all people so completely wrapped around their finger that you’d keep something like this a secret from everyone. Honestly, props to Jisung for managing it. If I’d told you to keep a relationship secret, you’d have told me to go fuck myself.”
Though he doesn’t mean to, Minho snorts. “Unironically, yes.” It’s true, usually he doesn’t have time for secrets. If someone has a problem with what he’s doing with his life, they can tell him to his face, and he’ll tell them where they can put their opinions.
But Jisung has proven to be the exception for a lot of things. And once you came to terms with the fact that you were willing to keep something hidden in the first place, time stopped being as much of a concern. Now here he is, drinking on Seungmin’s couch and contemplating his life choices, which is never a fun place to be.
Drawing in a slow breath, Seungmin carefully ventures, “Alright, hear me out, maybe… You shouldn’t.”
“Shouldn’t what?”
Seungmin purses his lips. “Shouldn’t keep it a secret.”
Minho’s mouth twists and he takes an angry sip of his drink, “But Jisung-“
“You look miserable, hyung.” As Minho’s protests die in his throat, Seungmin tips his head to the side. “And I’m not just saying that because you’re drunk on my couch, though that doesn’t help. I’m saying you have looked miserable for a while. And I wasn’t going to ask because frankly? It’s none of my business. But now you’ve kind of made it my business, so I’m going to give you my opinion.”
“Thanks,” Minho drawls. I should never have brought it up. But it’s too late for regrets. “I’ll make sure to give it as much consideration as I do everyone else’s opinion.”
“Haha, very funny.” Seungmin frowns, the expression pinching at the corners of his mouth. “Opinion was the wrong word. I’m giving you advice.”
“Advice which is…?”
“Be public with it.” Giving a half shrug, Seungmin reasons, “It’s not good for him to keep it a secret, and it’s definitely not good for you. Just tell him you want to be open about the relationship, and if he takes it so badly that he breaks up with you, maybe it wasn’t a healthy situation to begin with.”
The words hit him like a slap to the face.
Flinching, Minho’s eyes lock onto his glass. Seungmin’s right, of course the bastard is. He’s good at that. He always takes what seem like complicated issues and cuts straight to the heart of them, and typically Minho can do the same, but not when it’s this personal.
One of the reasons he hasn’t spilled any of this to his friends until now is because Minho didn’t want to be told it was unhealthy. He’s known he’s hurting himself, but that’s always seemed like an acceptable sacrifice, and he’s good at justifying it. He knows it’s not the best situation, but Seungmin has put it into words so efficiently that he’s starting to see just how bad it is.
He wanted to keep it secret so I just… Did? I never even argued otherwise. And he’s always told himself that Jisung is doing his best but is he? Isn’t this whole thing specifically for his comfort and no one else’s? Minho is constantly stepping on eggshells and not acting like himself so that Jisung doesn’t have to face any uncomfortable truths, but where does that leave him?
Upset. Lying next to his boyfriend in bed and fighting down bitterness, night after night.
Healthy relationships don’t look like that.
Like he can see how much his words have affected Minho, Seungmin edges closer and pokes his leg with a toe. “It’s Jisung, hyung. The guy loves you so much that it’s almost insufferable to watch. He might not be happy about it at first, but he’ll probably come around to it. You guys can take it slow, but you shouldn’t do this to yourself indefinitely. It’s not… Not good.”
“I- I know but-“ Minho bites at the inside of his cheek and hesitates.
“If worst comes to worst, you could always stay friends.”
The hand on his glass tightens and he quickly takes a few sips to avoid cracking it. “I don’t want to stay friends, Seungmin, I want to stay together. Imagine if someone said the same thing about you and Chan-hyung?”
Pulling a face, Seungmin looks away. “Well, you know what I think. You’re only going to make it worse the longer you wait.”
Ignoring that warning, Minho leans back on the sofa and stares at the ceiling. “I’m hoping this dinner date will help. You know, get him used to the idea of people at least assuming. Maybe he’ll see that it’s not that bad and we can have the conversation.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Seungmin’s words send Minho’s shoulders hunching once more. “If everything just goes back to how it is?”
The correct answer is he’ll bring it up but Minho doesn’t have the correct answer, he just has the truth. The knowledge that even if he has to keep this charade up indefinitely, he probably will. Because the idea of losing Jisung is terrifying. Because he’s so helplessly in love that the very thought of being left alone with that feeling is worse than the idea of keeping it secret forever.
“I’ll figure it out,” is all Minho manages, as he finishes off his fourth glass.
“You’re scared,” Seungmin points out with unfortunate accuracy. When Minho doesn’t answer, he sighs. “My confusion at how you’ve managed to end up in such a complicated situation aside, I’m here for you. I guess.” Turning a bleary expression on the younger man, Minho waits. Finally Seungmin groans and rolls his eyes. “And fine, I won’t tell anyone else. I can’t believe I’m back in high school again.”
Pursing his lips, Minho puts an arm around his knees. “I just don’t want to lose him.”
Seungmin’s answering expression is sobering. “Maybe it’s time to get over that fear.”
He’s right, but Minho knows he’s not going to tackle that tonight, so he just sets his glass aside. “I’ll handle it,” he mutters. “After the dinner. I just- I want our anniversary to be nice at least.” Then, because Seungmin’s still staring at him doubtfully, Minho scoots closer so he can kick the man’s shin. “Just play the TV, bastard. I’ll deluge you in my emotional problems a different night.”
“Oh wonderful, my favorite,” Seungmin quips, but he presses play regardless.
And even though he could stew for the rest of the evening, Minho tries not to.
He’s sure he’ll be plenty miserable tomorrow.
•≈ ⦕✴⦖ ≈•
From: Minho [6:31 PM, Friday]
To: Hannie <3
I’m here.
From: Minho [6:31 PM, Friday]
To: Hannie <3
Are you ready to go?
Clicking off his phone, Minho glances up at Jisung’s apartment building. To be honest, he’s been standing here for a while, summoning up the courage to send the text. It seems ridiculous, he’s not a coward, and it’s Jisung, but maybe that’s the problem, because the man is the entire reason he’s so stuck in his own head.
It’s the big night. Minho’s spent so long trying to downplay it that his brain has done the exact opposite and made it feel like something momentous. Their anniversary. Complete with the white suit and a bowtie, all freshly dry cleaned and looking as good as he can manage. It’s not that big a deal, he tells himself for the millionth time, but he’s still straightening his navy blue collar, and checking his silver cufflinks surreptitiously.
He was definitely here too early. They said six-thirty and he got here somewhere around six. But he’s jittery. Not nervous because Minho doesn’t get nervous, but certainly not settled.
They haven’t talked much today. He’d sort of expected a happy anniversary text this morning, but instead he’s gotten radio static, but for confirming times and now these texts to let Jisung know he’s ready. Maybe the man is waiting to say it in person, but it’s still sitting wrong in Minho’s gut. Like he missed an important memo somewhere along the way, and now he’s the only one left in the dark.
I’m overthinking it. Obviously. Of course he is. He always does. Jisung will be down any second and it won’t matter anymore. Everything will be fine.
He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice Jisung has finally stepped out of the building until the man’s blond hair catches the light of the setting sun. Turning, Minho’s lips part to call out and beckon him over, only for the words to die in his throat.
Jisung looks perfect. He’s wearing the navy suit, the same one he wears for most of the fancy events he’s forced to attend. It looks as good on him now as it always does, sharp around the shoulders and loose around his tiny waist. Minho notes the white shirt and the dark tie, pinned down with the silver pin he’d bought for the man a couple years before. It’s such a little touch, but for a moment, it stops his heart.
Like he got dressed up for me. Like he wanted to remind me that he’s mine.
Well tit for tat. Minho’s wearing the earrings Jisung gave him last year, so maybe they’re both hopeless romantics.
Slowly, as his lips curl up into a smile, Minho drags his eyes up to Jisung’s face. He looks as beautiful as ever, his tanned skin cast into pretty golden shadows that make his cheeks look even rounder than usual. For a moment, Minho admires the artful way the man’s hair has been swept back away from his forehead, before dropping his gaze and allowing himself to get lost in Jisung’s pretty eyes.
His eyes are sparkling. Big and beautiful and full of a light that has nothing to do with the setting sun behind them.
If he wasn’t already helplessly in love with this man, Minho’s convinced he could have fallen, right there and then.
“I thought I was going to have to wait forever,” he calls, as a grin spreads across his face. And oh, he can see the way Jisung goes tongue-tied, as his eyes widen and he watches Minho sway closer. Though they’re still outside in the middle of the sidewalk, it’s like the world has narrowed down to just them two.
“You look even prettier up close,” Minho hums, lifting his hands to gently adjust Jisung’s collar and brush imaginary dust off of his shoulders. It’s a thinly veiled excuse to let his fingers linger there, gathering the warmth that always seems to pour off of the other man.
Seeming to finally remember himself, Jisung’s face animates and his lips twitch up into a smile. “Ah, you look wonderful too, hyung.” His voice is soft and just a little awkward, making clear just how much he means it.
Minho’s about to crack a joke about how ‘ of course he does’ when he gives a second look to what Jisung is wearing, and realizes something. Something he probably should have noticed immediately, but is somehow only picking up on just now.
Before he can stop himself, the words escape. “We match.”
Instantly he regrets it because he sees the flash of panic in Jisung’s eyes as he gives a strained laugh and tugs on the bottom of his suit jacket. “I- I guess we do. I knew I should have picked the black shirt instead.” As Minho fights the bitter look that threatens to sour his face, Jisung presses ahead determinedly, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself. “But we don’t have time to change, right? If we don’t leave soon we’re going to be late so I guess we’ll just have to match.”
Another little laugh. Jisung’s eyes are fixed firmly on the ground and his shoulders are tense under Minho’s hands.
He’s doing it for me, isn’t he? Even though it’s clearly making him uncomfortable, he’s swallowing it down for Minho’s sake. It’s not exactly a happy anniversary, but he’s starting to realize it might be as good as he gets.
Such small comfort, but what is he supposed to do but accept it?
Nodding, Minho glances away so Jisung doesn’t have to see the tired sadness in his eyes. “Right, you’re right. It’ll be fine.”
Unbidden, his conversation with Seungmin returns to him. Tell him I want to be public about us? When he can’t even handle matching outfits? I might as well be wishing on shooting stars. But now isn’t the time to think about it. He’s already promised himself he’s going to get through this night without obsessing, and he’s off to a terrible start.
Leading Jisung back to the car, Minho opens the man’s door before slipping around to the driver’s side. It’s not a long ride to the event hall, but it’s enough of one that it gives them both a chance to settle their nerves.
He’s worried the whole trip is going to be horribly tense after their little conversation outside Jisung’s apartment, but his fears are unfounded. After a few red lights, someone cuts in front of them sharply, and the flurry of angry words from both of them has them breaking into laughter and thoroughly distracted. Maybe this won’t be as bad as he had feared. Special numbers on the calendar aside, it’s just dinner. He gets dinner with Jisung a few times a week. And their friends will be in attendance, so he won’t be stranded with his own thoughts all night.
As long as Seungmin doesn’t make it weird, I’ll survive.
Conversation between them drifts easily. Jisung launches into a soliloquy about the new song he’s working on with Changbin, and Minho happily talks about the various dance classes he’s been giving. It really is just like every other night, the only difference is the clothing. Beyond the heartache, Jisung is his best friend, and Minho can and does spend hours with him at a time, talking or frequently, not saying anything at all.
“I keep telling you, I’ll use your music for my classes if you write something that isn’t depressing,” Minho jokes as they round the block of the event hall the dinner is being held at. It’s a half lie. He uses the music anyways, but only ever for his own personal choreography, not that he’s going to tell Jisung that.
Elbowing Minho’s arm, Jisung wiggles an eyebrow. “You’re just looking for an excuse for me to send you music.”
“Yes,” Minho deadpans, suddenly serious. “I am. Stop playing hard to get and send me something.”
“I do!!” Jisung protests, throwing his arms in the air. “And it’s all posted online somewhere. Look it up like everyone else does.”
“Do I look like everyone else to you?” Minho demands. “Excuse you, I am your-“ He’s going to say boyfriend, but he cuts himself off as he pauses to pay for parking. Thankfully, Jisung chuckles at his words, and the sound leaves him warm.
When he pulls himself back into the car, he takes a second to poke one of Jisung’s cheeks, loving the way it gives under his finger. As the man’s giggling only intensifies, Minho sternly says, “You will send me more music, Han Jisung, and you will write something that doesn’t make me want to cry.”
As his laughter fades slightly, Jisung lets out a sigh, his eyes still twinkling. “I can’t help it, hyung, it’s what inspires me.”
“You sound like you’re still stuck in your emo phase.” He makes a show of complaining, but Minho can’t even begin to hide the fond smile that claims his face. “I’m sure you have something to be happy about.”
Like me, he almost adds, before deciding that’s a little narcissistic, even for him.
Shutting off the car, Minho takes a moment to glance at himself in the rear-view mirror. His hair gel is holding steady, and the light makeup he’d thrown on earlier is as on point as ever. It’s silly, but a part of him thinks that maybe if he looks good enough, Jisung won’t mind acting like a couple. As if my looks have anything to do with it.
Ah but he’s allowed to be stupid once in a while, right?
Beside him, Jisung lets out a soft breath. “It’s not a phase if it never ends but… Maybe I’ll try to write something more upbeat. Just for you.” As if Minho doesn’t keep everything Jisung’s written like it’s a personal treasure, whether it’s directed to him or not. “Who knows, I might finally write something you like.”
Rolling his eyes, Minho glances over at Jisung and offers him a soft, reassuring smile. “You know I like all your music.”
“Are you sure?” Jisung’s voice is faint, and his eyes are focused on Minho’s lips. “It doesn’t sound like it.”
“Questioning me?” Shifting closer, Minho stares in awe at the way Jisung’s lashes flutter over his cheeks, at the way his eyes sparkle even in the darkness of the parking garage. “How dare you.”
They’re so close, Minho can feel the man’s breath on his face, feel Jisung’s pulse jump as his fingers brush over the man’s cheek. Then it’s Minho’s pulse that leaps as Jisung leans into his hand, allowing him to gently caress soft tanned skin.
It’s something a lot deeper and more important than fireworks that go off when their lips brush together.
Minho thinks that feeling might be devotion, but he’s too distracted to decide.
Though their usual kisses are hungry, the promise of something more, this is soft and careful. Just Jisung’s mouth shifting over his own, sweet and affectionate and enough to make his heart burst, just enough that he can taste the gloss on the man’s lips. It tastes a bit like strawberries and a bit like iced coffee. Minho would say it’s addicting, but he’s long since developed a habit.
He’s so in love it hurts.
But in that moment, he can’t decide if the darkness of the garage is romantic, or a reminder of how complicated this relationship is.
For the sake of his own sanity, Minho doesn’t give himself a chance to decide, because he’s already pulling away, brushing a thumb along Jisung’s jaw as he does. “I’ll behave myself inside,” he promises, fighting back the bitterness in his own tone, words soft in the quiet of the vehicle. “I just couldn’t help myself. You look beautiful.”
He will behave , but it’ll crush him the whole time.
Their noses brush, Minho fights the urge to lean back in. But he never gets to make up his mind, because Jisung is exhaling and drawing away. “Probably for the best,” the man jokes, keeping his eyes fixed anywhere but Minho’s face. “We wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”
And there it is. A promise of the torture this evening is sure to become.
“Yeah,” Minho mutters, his hand going for the door as he steel’s his heart and tries to clamp down on the frustration that rises in his throat. “We wouldn’t want that.”
Though the inevitable boundaries for the night have been set exactly where he didn’t want them to be, Minho doesn’t find the opportunity to dwell on it. The two of them are at the event hall and being ushered in before he can order his thoughts on the matter. All he has to do is give their names and they’re let in, with a polite nod and a hum that Felix is expecting them.
At the mention of their friend’s name, both of their moods visibly brighten, and Minho pulls a smile back onto his face before he steps into the hall.
If there’s one thing Felix knows how to do, it’s put on a show. Everything about the place is classy, from the decorations to the lighting to the tables, all artfully arrayed around the floor. Minho recognizes the man’s intuitive eye for design at just a glance, and the closer he looks, the more pleased he is. I was missing out on this for how long? Ah, but he’d had no one to go with, not until this year, so he thinks he’s excused.
The first person they spot is Hyunjin, with Jisung waving an arm over his head excitedly before Minho elbows him and shoots him a pointed look. Managing to look at least a little abashed, the man clears his throat and fusses with his suit. Visibly rolling his eyes at Jisung’s display, Hyunjin lifts a hand and delicately beckons them over to the front of the room, a smile on his face.
Minho’s eyes catch Seungmin’s as they thread through the tables and other people, and he quickly looks away to avoid the stare he’s being given. It’s exactly what he expected after his meltdown the night before, but he’d been hoping to avoid it, at least for a little while. I should have known I wouldn’t be that lucky.
“Minho-hyung! And Jisungie!” Felix almost knocks Jisung over in his excitement, slinging an arm around his neck and dragging him in for a hug. Ignoring the twinge of jealousy he feels as Jisung visibly sags with relief into the hold, Minho turns to the rest of their friends with a thin smile of his own.
Because anyone is easier to be affectionate with than me.
“I see we were almost late to the party.” He knows they’re technically early, but the rest of their group is already there. Chan, with his arm happily looped around Seungmin’s waist. Changbin trying to chase after Felix, who is conspiratorially dragging Jisung away. Hyunjin, who’s watching the scene with a parted-lip look of curiosity, and Jeongin, who’s drinking something out of a fancy glass and trying to ignore the rest of them.
“Felix wasn’t sure you’d come,” Hyunjin hums conversationally, eyeing Minho with a suspiciously knowing look that makes him wonder if Seungmin did end up spilling the beans after all.
His concerns are not assuaged as Seungmin instantly chirps, “I wasn’t worried. Of course you were going to show up, hyung.”
Trying not to let his attention be drawn away by the sounds of his boyfriend yelping in surprise, Minho tips his chin up. “Naturally, Seungmin, I wouldn’t want to miss Felix’s big event.”
“If anyone were going to cancel, it’d be Jisung,” Seungmin agrees, his gaze drifting past Minho’s shoulder.
What’s that supposed to mean? Gritting his teeth, Minho smiles widely. “Don’t be silly, Jisung wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Looking up from his drink, Jeongin glances between Minho and Seungmin, like he’s watching a tennis match. “I feel like I missed something.”
“I always feel like that,” Chan admits, pulling Seungmin tighter against his side with a tired smile. “I’ve learned not to worry about it too much.”
“You’re right, hyung!” Minho decides loudly, stepping over to Jeongin and grabbing the glass out of the man’s hand before he can protest. “Seungmin is impossible to understand. My evening will be much better if I don’t bother trying.” Taking a sip before the drink is wrested back from him, Minho wrinkles his nose at the taste and stares at Jeongin. “Not even alcoholic? You disgust me.”
“Look some of us aren’t trying to pass out early,” Jeongin sniffs, holding his glass out of Minho’s reach. “Go chase after Jisung.”
Rolling his eyes, Minho decides he’s avoided corralling the man for long enough. Turning, he finds Changbin already dragging Jisung and Felix back in their direction, an arm around each of their waists. The latter is making a show of swaying in Changbin’s hold, giggling softly as he does. The former, well-
The brief moment of excitement from Jisung is gone. There’s a smile on his face, but Minho knows him well enough to know it’s fake. He’s never been particularly good at hiding his emotions, after all, and the moment his eyes land on Minho, he’s biting his lip and laughing awkwardly.
“Sorry,” he mutters as Changbin releases him with several pats to the back. “We only just got here and I’m already embarrassing you.”
“Oh no such thing,” Jeongin quips, pulling a face in Minho’s direction.
Nodding sagely, Seungmin adds in a saintly voice, “Minho-hyung is plenty capable of embarrassing himself without your help.”
“Alright,” Chan huffs, giving Seungmin a little shake before elbowing Jeongin. “Enough, we don’t want to ruin Felix’s dinner.”
The subtle admonishment makes the younger two men back off, but it doesn’t stop Jisung from rubbing the back of his neck and joking, “You should have brought a different friend, hyung.”
Minho’s stomach drops. Friend, right, because we’re still in public, aren’t we?
To his side, he sees Seungmin’s lips purse as he looks away. No one else seems to react negatively to the words however. Because those little self deprecating jokes of Jisung’s don’t mean anything to them. Changbin just scoffs and smacks one of Jisung’s arms. “As if he’d bring anyone else.”
“Yeah, but-“
“Do you want me to grab you something to drink, hyung?” Felix chirps in Minho’s direction, cutting through the tension steadily building in the air. “So you don’t have to steal Jeongin’s drink?”
“You saw that?” Desperately relieved to have something else to think about, Minho makes a show of gasping. “And here I thought you were too busy stealing Jisung from me.”
“Oh don’t worry, no one is going to do that,” Hyunjin chirps, sticking his tongue out in Jisung’s direction. “No one else wants him.”
Jisung straightens with an offended squawk. “Hey!”
Rolling his eyes, Minho steps closer, and before he can overthink it, he slips an arm around Jisung’s waist. Deliberately pulling him closer, Minho stares at Hyunjin and tips his nose in the air. “You’re missing out, he’s perfect.”
Beside him, Jisung tenses up.
Right.
Minho’s first instinct is to just lean over and kiss the man, purely out of spite, as a method to finally excise himself of the tension that’s been building at the base of his skull for the past year. But he’s got enough self control not to follow through on those impulses. Instead, he gives the man’s hip a covert little squeeze before letting him go. It hurts to do, but he’s too much of a coward to push further.
Imagine what the me of a year ago would have said to the me of now…
Pretending to gag, Jeongin presses whatever’s left of his drink into Hyunjin’s hand and steps over to Felix. “If you’re going to get more drinks, I’m coming with you. It’ll be better than watching those two flirt.”
There’s a ripple of laughter from their friends, laughter that Jisung joins in on, with quick wide eyed insistences of, It’s not like that.
Minho just turns to Felix and presses his lips together in what he hopes is a smile. “I’d love that drink, Felix.”
Thankfully for his sanity, the conversation moves on from there. As people continue to filter into the event hall, Minho lets himself get swept up in just being around his friends. Considering their strange and often very conflicting schedules, it’s rare they all end up in the same place at the same time together, but it’s always a good time when it happens. This event might be for couples but the moment they get talking, it doesn’t really matter much.
Chan happily talks about plans for expanding his recording studio, and Changbin and Jisung burst into a freestyle rendition of their new song, much to everyone else’s amusement. Felix happily chatters about the restaurant his family is opening a few cities away, and eventually Minho is looped into regaling everyone with some stories from his and Hyunjin’s dance classes.
As another round of drinks is brought out, Seungmin starts dryly telling them, with the perfunctory amount of redaction and anonymity, about one of his more tiresome legal clients. Jeongin follows it up with vague details about a case he’s been working on that has Felix and Hyunjin gasping excitedly like it’s a TV drama. It’s been so long since they all got a chance to properly catch up, but it’s easy to fall back into it like this. Though he’d rather die than admit it, Minho misses these idiots when he doesn’t get to see them.
By the time the doors are closed and everyone is properly mingling, Minho has relaxed. He’s pressed hip to shoulder against Jisung, and the wine Felix handed him is flowing through his system nicely. There’s just enough to leave him warm, make him notice the way Jisung’s hand ghosts around his waist every few minutes before pulling back, without reading complications into it at every turn.
It’s… Nice, the gentle contact. Not as awkward as it usually would be, simply Jisung being too restless to stay still for long. As always, he’s got to move as he talks, whether it’s his upper body or his hands or his hips or his head -that one especially. Minho’s used to it though. He knows when to shift to the side and when to sway back. The romantic side of him -that he doesn’t have- likens it to a dance, the way they move together even while stationary.
He’s a dancer, but this is his favorite choreography.
“Well maybe if you practiced more, you’d be better at it,” Felix is joking in Jisung’s direction, his eyes twinkling with laughter. The conversation has moved to video games, a hobby that several of them share. Minho’s not entirely listening, but he pays enough attention to pat at Jisung’s lower back whenever he raises his voice.
Swinging around to face the man, Jisung points a finger in Felix’s direction. “Hey! Not all of us have the time or the patience to play video games as much as you do. I think I’m doing fine.”
“Fine isn’t good,” Felix singsongs, giggling as Changbin scoffs and elbows him. “What, I’m just stating facts!”
“I can’t believe you’re trash talking me tonight.” Placing a hand over his heart, Jisung feigns a fatal wound. “Isn’t this supposed to be a nice dinner?”
Minho can’t help the way he focuses in on the way Jisung says tonight. It’s such a small thing he tries to tell himself, but he still glances up, subconsciously looking for the one other person who might know what’s going through his head. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Seungmin is nowhere to be seen.
“Personally-“ Felix spreads his hands out and tries to swallow down his laughter. “Personally I think you’re just worried you’ll still be bad no matter how much you practice.”
“Well it’s not like I get a chance to try now is it? It’s your fault we never settle on one thing to actually play.” The only thing Minho is paying attention to is the way Jisung has tightened his hold around his waist, using him for balance without a second thought.
Scoffing, Felix rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out. “Patience being the key word there.”
Jisung’s arm tightens, and Minho’s had just enough to drink that he presses into the hold rather than remaining still. “Stop trend hopping and maybe I will have patience!”
Clearing his throat, Jeongin gestures with his glass. “I think what Felix is trying to say is: Get good scrub.”
As Hyunjin’s drink comes out his nose and Jisung lets out a subdued cry of defeat, Minho chuckles and reaches up to pet the man’s hair. “I mean, it’s not your fault you’re always busy,” he murmurs without thinking, the teasing coming naturally to his tongue. “I’m at least partially responsible for that.”
Reacting immediately to the words, Jisung stumbles against him, and Minho instantly pulls back his hand. No, I didn’t mean that, he wants to insist, but it would be a lie. He had meant it, but not right now. Not when Jisung so visibly swallows and mumbles out a quick, “Y-yeah, hyung, you should work on that.”
“Work on what?” Startling, Jisung leaps away from Minho at the sound of Seungmin’s voice behind them. Leaning between them, the taller man looks between the two of them. “Why are we whispering?”
“It’s nothing!” Jisung yelps, his cheeks flaming red. “Why are you asking?” Which of course only eggs Seungmin on further.
“I leave for three minutes and when I come back, Jinnie has wine dribbling out of his nose and the two of you are conspiring, of course I’m going to ask. So what’s going on, Jisung, since you’re almost as red as my tie.” When all Jisung does is stare down at Seungmin’s tie and visibly cringe backwards, the man leans in, his eyebrow cranking up his forehead. “What, cat got your tongue, Jisung?”
The way he says cat makes it plainly obvious to Minho what Seungmin means. And after he promised not to mention it. I should have known he’d use this against me. As Jisung splutters, Minho lets out a tch under his breath and resists the urge to kick Seungmin in the shins. “Leave him alone, Seungmin.”
“Oh, I’m just teasing my friend, hyung,” Seungmin assures him, easily slipping an arm around Jisung’s shoulders and offering Minho a winning smile. “Just like I’d do with anyone else. After all, I want him to know how accepted he is here.”
The withering glare Minho shoots Seungmin could have melted steel. Unfortunately, it doesn’t deter the other man in the slightest. He just keeps patting Jisung’s shoulder, smiling innocently all the while.
Clearly confused, but still managing a little laugh, Jisung gives Seungmin’s hand a little pat in return. “Don’t worry, I already know that.”
“Are you sure?” And oh Minho knows exactly what this is about, but without outing his conversation with Seungmin the night before, he can’t exactly do anything about it. Taking advantage of his hesitation, Seungmin turns to Jisung so he can gesture at their group of friends, who are currently making an entire production out of cleaning up the mess Hyunjin made. “Because we really are. Open I mean. And accepting.”
“I think you’ve made your point, Seungmin,” Minho says through a sharp toothed smile.
“I feel like I’m missing the point,” Jisung admits, his eyes darting between the other two men.
“No, you haven’t missed a thing.” Giving Jisung’s shoulder one last reassuring pat, Seungmin bats his eyelashes at the both of them. “I’m just saying, if we’ve put up with each other this long, I don’t think anything will change that.”
When he says ‘anything’, Seungmin’s eyes focus on Jisung, and his expression briefly morphs into something serious. Minho’s first thought is a bitter one. Does he not think I can manage this conversation on my own? But quickly the frustration gives way to defeat because when in the past year has he been able to? When has he tried?
Perhaps for the best, Jisung doesn’t seem to get it. “I- Thanks?” Laughing, pulling away and finding Minho’s side again, he lifts an eyebrow. “Are you drunk already? We only just got here.”
“Oh, I’m not drunk.” Without explaining himself further, Seungmin gives Minho one last look before stepping back over to Chan to try and help coral the inevitable chaos that has sprung up. Which of course left Minho with a baffled Jisung, who’s visibly puzzling over the words.
I don’t need help, Seungmin. I’m perfectly capable of ruining my own relationship. But he can’t say it, and he’s not sure he even means it. It’s not even that he knows Seungmin is trying to help, Minho doesn’t have patience for misguided attempts at aid, it’s the fact that he’s not sure Jisung would get it even if he was the one to say it.
Struggling to pull himself out of the depressive spiral before the alcohol in his system sucks him further down it, Minho sucks in a breath. “Maybe we should help as well.”
Shaking himself, Jisung blinks up at Minho for a moment before seeming to remember what’s going on around them. “Oh! I- Yeah, we probably…” As he continues to stare, the words die in his throat, and Minho wonders with a subdued roll of his stomach if Seungmin’s point just registered with his boyfriend.
If it is, then Jisung doesn’t take it well, because the next moment, panic flashes behind his eyes. Like someone lit a fire under him, he’s swiftly looking away and lurching towards the other men, making fun of the still whining Hyunjin just a bit too loudly for it to be natural. Shit. Setting down his glass, vowing not to touch another drop for the rest of the night, Minho spends a moment resisting the urge to drag his hands through his hair.
Why is it always panic? Why does it feel like the panic gets worse every time it happens? Why does Minho have to be the one to lose his mind?
Catching a concerned glance from Chan, Minho forces himself to let out a breath. It’s alright, it’s just one night. Things will be back to normal -whatever that means- by tomorrow. With that less than comforting thought, he steps back over to his group of friends, determined to keep a smile on his face for the rest of the night.
He doesn’t succeed, but he pretends he does, always forcing a smile when he notices someone looking. Maybe his mood would be more obvious, but Minho notices the fake laughs Jisung is full of, and decides that between the two of them, there’s enough ambient misery to go around. He should probably apologize but his head is spinning too much to manage, and there are too many people to do it anyways. And besides, any time he shifts closer to Jisung, it seems like the man has literally anywhere else to be but by his side.
Naturally, the dinner itself begins before they have a chance to return the mood to an equilibrium. Minho finds himself at a table for two across from Jisung, who can’t seem to meet his eyes, and all he wants is out. His head hurts, and all his reasons for dragging the other man here are starting to feel more and more selfish by the second. The event, the matching clothes, the anniversary; Minho would have gladly tossed it all away in that moment if it meant he could be next to Jisung. Cuddling on the couch and not caring about what everyone else thought.
Still, he’s going to make an effort. He’s here, and he’s already placed an order, and Jisung keeps chewing at his bottom lip like he’s trying to bite through it. Minho doesn’t want this to end in disaster.
But maybe he should have seen the crash coming, even then.
“Thank you for coming with me.” Reaching across the table, just subtly enough that Jisung can ignore it if he wants, Minho gives the man a serious look. “It… Means a lot, you coming out here with me.”
Lip slipping out from between his teeth, Jisung manages a small smile that never reaches his eyes. “Yeah, of course hyung. I wouldn’t want you to have to show up alone.”
He doesn’t take the hand. Admittedly, Minho never expected him to.
Letting out a controlled breath, fighting the urge to make it a sigh, Minho quietly reminds the other man, “I wouldn’t have come without you.”
Why does Jisung look so conflicted when he says that, like somehow those were entirely the wrong words? “I’ve been making things uncomfortable.”
Minho feels something in him wobble at the sight of the guilt in Jisung’s eyes. Thoughtlessly, he leans over the table and grabs one of the man’s hands, forcing the man’s attention back to him. “No, don’t say that. You never make things uncomfortable. If-“ It hurts, but he presses ahead regardless, needing to wipe that look off of his boyfriend’s face. “If anything I’m the one pushing too far. You know I get touchy-feely when tipsy.”
“Yeah,” Jisung croaks, his hand limp in Minho’s. “Yeah I know that.”
Feeling utterly helpless, Minho squeezes once before retreating. Usually he can reassure Jisung away from that panic, but maybe the night has been a bit too much. Between their friends and the setting and Seungmin’s pointed comments, there might not be anything he can do to salvage the situation.
The mess this has become is painfully sobering. Whatever buzz Minho had been clinging to evaporates as Jisung presses his hands into his lap and refuses to meet his eyes.
I did this. I’m the reason he’s miserable.
So much for a nice dinner.
But they can’t leave, right? They’ve just been served food and Felix is making a speech at the front of the room. But for the life of him, Minho can’t seem to take in a word. He doesn’t know why he’s here anymore. It’s definitely not for his benefit, and it’s not for Jisung’s either. Not when he catches the man staring at him like doing so is the most painful thing he’s ever attempted.
It’s times like this he wishes his boyfriend wasn’t so easy to read.
“You don’t want to be here,” Minho finally mutters, somewhere between the first and second courses, watching as Jisung pushes his food around his plate.
Hunching his shoulders just a little more, Jisung purses his lips together. “I’m here for you.”
I don’t want you to be here for me, I want you to be here because you want to be with me. Resisting the urge to say those words out loud, Minho crosses his arms and flatly says, “Well if you’re miserable, then I don’t want to be here.” At this point, it isn’t even a lie. They’ve tried, haven’t they? They’ve sat here and played nice, but Jisung only looks at him when he thinks Minho isn’t watching, and he’d have to be a fool to miss the misery in his boyfriend’s eyes. “Let’s just-“ Vaguely rolling his shoulders, Minho presses his lips together and finally accepts defeat. “Let’s just go.”
At once, Jisung’s eyes go wide. “No, hyung, I’m-“
“Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine, Han Jisung,” Minho snaps, struggling to keep his voice quiet, swallowing down the frustration that rises up in his throat. “You have been my- My friend for years. I know when you’re fine, and right now, you’re not. You’re upset.”
Flinching, Jisung stares at him, and Minho can’t even begin to untangle what he sees in the man’s eyes, but he knows it’s nothing good. Struggling to draw in a deep breath, he forces himself to gentle his voice as he repeats, “We don’t have to stay.” Chuckling bitterly, Minho gestures at his own untouched plate. “I’ll be honest, I’ve lost my appetite as well.”
Jisung’s eyes flicker away. Following his gaze, Minho finds Felix and Changbin, laughing over their own dinner, practically glowing in the room’s lighting. They’re clearly having a good time, the fact only accentuated by the casual little touches between them, the fond smiles, and the way Felix’s eyes twinkle every time Changbin giggles. As an ache slowly spreads in his stomach, Minho looks away. He could seek out the rest of their friends, but he already sort of knows what he’ll find.
Hell, even Hyunjin and Jeongin are probably having a better time than they are.
Quietly, Jisung mumbles, “We’ll disappoint Felix.”
Right, he’s the one that’ll be disappointed. “He’ll understand,” Minho promises. “If you need someone to blame, you can blame me.”
Before Jisung has the chance to argue further, Minho gets to his feet and takes a deep breath. Stepping around to the other side of the table, he waits as Jisung hesitates before finally rising to his feet as well. If anyone notices them slipping past the gathered tables and politely exiting the hall, they give no indication. Minho’s sure he’ll have Seungmin and Felix and hell, probably the rest of his friends texting him tomorrow asking why he left early, but that’s solidly a later him problem. Right now, all he’s thinking about is the tension in the air, and the tightness in his chest.
They’re silent as they walk to the parking garage and find Minho’s car. The sun has long since set on the city, the illumination left over comes from the street lamps, the windows of the buildings around them. Even with the cars streaking past and the pedestrians wandering the sidewalks, it feels too quiet. Something has wedged itself between Jisung and himself, and for all his spiraling thoughts, he can’t find anything to say that will settle it.
Minho wants to apologize, has nearly a hundred different versions of sorry on the tip of his tongue as they slip into the car, but all of them die before he can give them a voice. Jisung is just staring at his hands, uncharacteristically still for someone who always feels the need to fidget. Briefly, he wonders if he should reach out and grab one of those larger hands, pull it closer and say with actions what he’s failing to say with words, but for all he wants to, he doesn’t.
He just turns on the car and pulls out of the garage, only stopping briefly to feed his ticket into the machine.
The car ride passes in silence. It hangs over them like a thick, impenetrable cloud. Minho half expects it to go the way the ride there did, for something to happen and break the ice and allow them to go back to how they should be, but nothing of the sort occurs. If anything, it gets worse with every red light, with every opportunity he has to say something, and then doesn’t.
Please, just say something. Anything. Minho doesn’t know if he’s begging Jisung or begging himself. He just wants to know Jisung will be okay, he wants to know exactly what he did wrong, so he doesn’t do it again. He doesn’t want to spend his anniversary like this.
As they pull up in front of Jisung’s place, Minho takes a moment to order his thoughts. Part of him wants to ask to come in, to pepper Jisung with soft kisses until the man forgets the evening entirely, but the mature side of him knows they have to talk about this. Now, before it gets swept under the rug. Before it hurts them in the long term, instead of just right now.
“Jisung, I-“
Jolting in his seat, Jisung fumbles with his seat belt. “I should go.”
“No!” Catching him by the sleeve, Minho pulls him back, wills the man to meet his eyes. “No, we need to talk this out, okay.” Swallowing down his pride, the heartache threatening to force its way out of his throat, just like it does every single time, he stares at Jisung with as much composure as he can manage. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
When Jisung just stares at him, lips slightly parted, eyes shining in the street lights like he’s two seconds away from crying, Minho presses on. “I thought it was a good idea to go to the event. It is- was… No, it still is! It’s a special night and I wanted to get all dressed up and I wanted to see you all dressed up and I didn’t think about how you would feel about it, and even when I did, I kept pushing.” Shifting his hold, he catches Jisung’s hand in his own. “I never should have done that and I- I won’t do it again. I promise.”
Jisung’s eyes drop, and Minho’s heart lurches as the man pulls his hand away. Audibly, he draws a shuddering breath, and Minho isn’t sure what he expects, but nothing, not even explicit forewarning could have prepared him for the next words out of Jisung’s mouth.
“I- I think we need to end this.”
For a moment, everything stops.
The vehicles outside, the flickering streetlight beside them, the air conditioning in the car, Minho’s breathing, his heart. Time itself grinds to a halt as those words echo in his head, uselessly skittering around in his skull, waiting for him to process them.
Something inside him cracks, slowly fracturing into a thousand pieces before scattering uselessly within his chest.
And the only thing he can think to ask is-
“Why?”
Jisung’s jaw tightens. “Because I can’t do this anymore, Minho.”
For a moment, he thinks he’s going to cry. He can feel it in his throat, the scratchiness, the tightness, the itch that crawls up from his chest, the pressure in his head like someone shut off the wrong valve. Minho doesn’t cry, but for a second, he almost does, as he watches the past year- No, the past god-knows-how-long slowly crumble before his eyes. But as Jisung’s words finally sink in, and the reality of the situation slams into him like a tidal wave, it isn’t tears that come from him, but anger.
“Really?” he demands, as his heart thuds weakly in his throat and he fights the choking feeling in the back of his throat. “You’re doing this to me today. Fucking really?”
As Jisung’s expression crumples, the words start spilling out of his mouth. Like he physically can’t hold them back a second longer. “I- I’m sorry, I never- I never wanted this to happen but you’re just so wonderful and beautiful and you know everything about me and you always know the right words to say and we’ve been so close for so long and I-“ His chest heaves. “I’m in love with you.”
“Oh you love me do you?” It’s awful, it’s destructive and he hates himself for it, but in that moment, Minho doesn’t care how scathing his tone is. He doesn’t care that Jisung cringes away from it as though he’s been struck. “Forgive me if given the circumstances, I find that absolutely fucking worthless.”
Minho might not be crying but Jisung is. Even in the dark he can see the tears dripping down the man’s cheeks, as panic fills his eyes. “I- I’m sorry.” He just keeps apologizing, like somehow that’s going to help, like sorry is what Minho wants to hear. “I just, I can’t do this Minho, I can’t keep hurting myself like this.”
“Hurting yourself?” He wants to laugh, but it’s not remotely funny. “Oh my fucking- Do you have any idea what I’ve been putting up with?” Jisung opens his mouth to try and answer, but Minho barrels ahead, too furious to think straight. “I put up with your weird shit every fucking day! How do you think I feel about that? Do you think I like dealing with how you act in public? Do you think I’m having a good fucking time?”
Shaking his head, Jisung’s lips form around another apology, but the tears streaming down his face swallow it. “I never- I never meant for any of that to happen. I- I’ve loved you for so long and I tried to- God, Minho I’ve tried, I’m sorry it wasn’t-“
“Wasn’t what, Han Jisung?” Looming forward over the center console, Minho demands, “Wasn’t enough? Because no, you trying wasn’t fucking enough.”
“I know,” Jisung breathes past the tears, his eyes shut tight like that is going to be enough to save him from Minho’s wrath. “I know I’m not- I was never- I don’t even know why I thought-“ The sobs he’s holding back are shaking his shoulders, and under any other circumstances, Minho would reach out to hold him, but in that moment how can he?
He’s being dumped. On their anniversary. Just like that.
How long has he been holding this back? Minho wonders, in the small fragile part of his brain that isn’t being consumed by anger. How long has he been leading me on, just planning to find a time to break up.
Maybe this was never meant to work out in the first place.
“Fine.” Pulling himself back over to his own side of the car, Minho purses his lips as defeat begins to seep in under all the rage. “If that’s what you want then fine. We’ll end it.”
Letting out a small breath, like the worst of it is somehow over, Jisung sniffles and paws at his face with his suit sleeves, trying and failing to stop the tears still cascading from his eyes. “Can- Can we please just stay friends? I really do care about you Minho. Even if I-“ His voice seizes up. “Please, I don’t want to lose you.”
Honestly, it’s not even anger anymore, though that still feels like a justified response. No, the thing that’s crushing what remains of Minho’s heart is cold bitterness, because apparently he’s always cared about this more than Jisung, and nothing could and ever did change that.
Quietly, mouth twisting, Minho mutters, “I know how you are, Jisung, but I’m honestly shocked that you have the fucking balls to do this to me and think we can stay friends.”
Jisung’s voice is so very very small. “But- But I-“
“Get out.” Unlocking the doors of the car, Minho looks away. Fixes his eyes on the road, and on the flickering street light outside. “Just- Just get the fuck out of my car.”
For a moment, he thinks Jisung might stay, might say something else. Might miraculously reveal that this is all a bad dream, and that Minho was just imagining it all. But he doesn’t, because the real world isn’t that kind.
Instead, he draws in a heavy, trembling breath and slips out the passenger door. The car shakes as he closes it behind him, but it’s lost to Minho’s own trembling. The pain that’s seized his insides and won’t let him go. Slowly, horribly, a dry sob works its way out of his throat, and Minho’s forehead hits the top of his steering wheel as his body curls in on itself.
After everything, it’s over.
Happy fucking anniversary.
•≈ ⦕✴⦖ ≈•
Minho doesn’t talk to Jisung.
He knows he can’t do it indefinitely, they have the same friend group, they run in the same circles. Eventually they’ll bump into each other, the mature thing to do is reach out ahead of time and try to come to a cordial agreement. Some sort of vague facade they can put up in front of their friends.
But Minho doesn’t. To be fair, Jisung doesn’t try to reach out either, but that’s not why he’s maintaining radio silence.
When he’s alone, staring at his wall, not looking at the collection of Jisung’s belongings that he’s shoved into a corner of his room, Minho tells himself it’s because he’s furious. Because he is! His opinion of Jisung has always been rather high. Despite the less than pleasant need to keep them on the down-low, the man has always been a ‘good guy’. He cares about his friends, he’s sweet and funny, and he wears his heart on his sleeve. Jisung doesn’t lie, and he’s not fantastic at holding a grudge either.
But the same is not true of Minho. He’s great at holding a grudge, and he feels justified because Jisung had treated him like dirt. Not only had he insisted Minho hide who he was for an entire year out of some -retrospectively- very unexplained hangups about them being public, but he’d also had the audacity to wait until what should have been a special night to finally break it off. Without any warning, without any conversations beforehand. No, it had been just like that. Like Minho had been some sort of experiment or trial run, and Jisung hadn’t wanted to keep the product.
And then to have the nerve to ask to stay friends afterward. As if he had the fucking right.
Minho knows he’ll have to face the man eventually, but for right now, he’s going to be rightfully pissed. Except-
When he’s alone in bed, and he rolls over into the spot Jisung used to sleep in, Minho knows it’s a lot deeper than anger. It’s also heartbreak.
He’d tried. No matter how ridiculous the request, no matter how restrictive the boundaries, Minho had made the attempt. Even when it hurt, he’d forced himself to fit into the narrow mold of what Jisung needed. He’d handled his own feelings in what he’d thought was a mature way, and he’d done his best not to push, even when he wanted to.
Minho had loved Jisung. Still does, even though he keeps telling himself that he’s going to get over it just fine. Despite everything he’d been happy. When he’d been curled up against Jisung’s side, or sharing food with him on one of their little dates, or yes, when they’d been in bed together, Minho had been so happy he could burst. It hadn’t mattered that there were rules, because he had Jisung. He’d been content.
To have that so completely shattered… He’s not sure he knows the words to describe how much it hurts, let alone how to arrange them into anything coherent.
As shameful as it feels to admit it, even to himself, he knows that this would be a lot easier if he hadn’t been completely and totally invested in Jisung in every single way. If the man hadn’t wormed his way into every aspect of Minho’s life, and become a part of his heart, then letting him go wouldn’t matter. If they’d just been friends, Minho thinks it would be easier. As it is, he’s just lost the man he loves, and he’s being forced to face the fact that there was nothing he could have done to salvage the relationship.
Because Jisung had never said anything. One day he’d seemed as in love and happy as ever, and the next, he was gone. Every time Minho thinks about it, he remembers the soft, tender expression on Jisung’s face before they’d kissed in the car, and he wonders what went wrong. Had it really been that night? Or had it been something else? Something deeper. Something preventable.
At this point, Minho’s not sure which is better. In the end, he still feels responsible. He’s still here in his room alone with a headache that won’t go away, and what feels like a knife lodged somewhere in his chest.
He does get those texts from his friends, just like he expected to. There’s half a dozen from Felix, worrying over both him and Jisung. Then there’s Chan’s flurry of un-punctuated messages, asking if he’s okay. If something happened. If there’s anything he can do, and even threatening to show up unannounced with food and hugs. After that it’s Hyunjin and Changbin both sending confused texts about him missing dance classes and gym day respectively.
Even Jeongin sends him a message.
From: Innie ^.^ [ 2:23 PM, Sunday]
To: Minho
something bad happened, huh
Minho almost answers that one, because it feels just neutral enough to not make everything hurt worse. But in the end, he just leaves a half-composed message on his screen, and the text goes un-responded to, just like the rest of them.
He actively avoids looking at Seungmin’s message for several days. Even after Minho has resumed all the other pieces of his everyday life, he’s not ready for the I told you so. Because what else would it be? Somehow, he’s sure Seungmin already knows what’s happened, and he’s going to tell Minho that really, it was for the best and it should have happened sooner. As much as part of him agrees with that sentiment, he isn’t ready to face it.
But when he finally does look, what he finds is a concise apology.
From: Dog [ 11:04 PM, Friday]
To: Minho
I took things too far tonight. I’m sorry.
It’s nothing sweeping, but it’s something Minho needs. Finding the first smile in days on his lips, he lets out a long breath and sends a simple answer.
From: Minho [8:22 PM, Monday]
To: Dog
You were trying to help.
From: Minho [8:22 PM, Monday]
To: Dog
You’re fine.
Seungmin doesn’t reply, but that’s fine. It’s still a return to normal. The reaching of an equilibrium that Minho has been desperately craving for days now. As small as it is, it’s a reminder that there’s still something outside of how shitty he feels right now, and it’ll get better, even if it takes a while.
And it does take a while.
He goes back to the dance studio on Tuesday, despite wanting to remain hidden from the world, and finally he’s forced to handle another person. Hyunjin spends nearly ten minutes firing off question after question about where he’s been, if he’s alright, and why he hasn’t been answering anyone’s text messages. Eventually finding his voice after the man has petered out, Minho informs Hyunjin that he did answer someone’s text, and really, he’s fine.
“That is the least convincing I think you’ve ever sounded,” Hyunjin informs him with a long-suffering sigh. “And you sound unconvincing a lot.”
It’s not convincing himself either, but Minho still pushes a half smile onto his face. “How about this; it’s not great but it’s getting better.”
Squinting at him, Hyunjin deliberates for a long moment before repeating, “What happened, hyung?” There’s genuine worry in that expression, the kind of guileless concern that makes Hyunjin so easy to talk to, but still, Minho hesitates.
He tells himself it would be so easy to be honest, to just flatly say that he’d been dumped by Jisung and he’s currently a little heartbroken, but… He doesn’t. Not least because he’s not sure he won’t break down if he does, but also because some awful little piece of him still cares. Doesn’t want to betray the other man like that, even if he feels betrayed.
So instead, Minho purses his lips and says, “A lot,” and doesn’t elaborate no matter how much Hyunjin pesters him.
It leaves him feeling guilty, blowing off the other’s kindness, but Minho promises to answer his texts more punctually, and swears he’ll elaborate if it gets worse. Thankfully for him, he doesn’t think it can get worse, so that’s one rain check he won’t have to cash in on.
That day, he teaches lessons and he dances and tries not to think about Jisung once. He’s going to get through this without being the desperate one, he’s determined to. It’s not like he needs Jisung to function. Amazingly, Minho is his own fully realized individual, and he needs to get over himself and not let heartbreak of all things control his everyday life.
Unfortunately, all it takes is one of Jisung’s songs popping up in his playlists for that resolve to come crashing down around his ears. Swiftly, he turns the music off, but it’s not quick enough to pretend he hadn’t heard it. The man’s voice, and the sad lyrics filtering through the stereo system.
Even though this is his time to practice, and he should be making the most of it, Minho finds himself leaning against the mirror, staring absently at the opposite wall and swallowing down all the things creeping their way up his throat. He might not need Jisung to function but he wants him. Logically the man just broke his heart, but Minho still wants him back. Wants to have that familiar and comfortable presence at his side where he thought it belonged.
Glancing down at his phone, watching the song title scroll past, Minho purses his lips together.
Is this why you only ever wrote sad love songs? Because you were stuck in a relationship that made you miserable?
Or maybe, a small, vicious part of him suggests, there’s someone else Jisung loves more. Someone who wasn’t attainable, someone who isn’t Minho. Because all his music is about yearning, about never being able to have the one he loves.
Maybe I need to face the fact that I made him sad.
He doesn’t want to, but it’s what fills Minho’s brain for the next few days like a terrible sort of mantra. Obviously, it’s his brain trying to give him some reason why this happened in the first place, but it’s difficult to rationalize away irrationality. Not when it turns him frantic, not when he paces up and down his tiny hallway for a solid hour and bites the inside of his cheek until it aches.
Thursday, he makes a point of going somewhere different, answering Changbin’s confirmation that he’ll be at the gym as a much needed distraction. He’s definitely not up to form, no matter how encouraging Changbin is being, but he’s there, and that’s what he decides matters.
“So any reason you gave us radio silence for days?” Jeongin prods when they’re breaking to hydrate. The younger man has the same flat expression as always, but Minho hears the concern lingering in his voice, and tries his best to respond to that, rather than letting Jisung creep back through his mind.
“I… Picked up a bug at that dinner,” Minho lies, looking away so he won’t have to look at the skeptical expression that crawls over Jeongin’s face. “I’ve been out of it, sorry.”
“An apology?” Changbin wraps a sweaty arm around Minho’s shoulders and laughs as he’s shrugged off. “You really are feeling bad.” When Minho doesn’t join in the chuckling, the other man shoots him a more serious look. “I- Are you sure that’s all it is? Because lately, Jisung’s been a bit-“
“That’s all it is,” Minho snaps, shifting away from his friends and avoiding eye-contact pointedly. “I was sick, now I’m better. Don’t we have reps to do?”
But when he returns to the floor, he finds himself absolutely incapable of focusing, to the point of it being a problem. Jisung has been a bit what? he wants to demand, but Minho’s not sure he actually wants the answer. If Changbin tells him Jisung has been miserable, that’s only going to make him feel worse, but if he says Jisung’s been fine then that might be enough to actually get him to cry. So really, that particular topic is just a lose-lose, and he doesn’t want to touch it.
That doesn’t stop his mind from latching onto it, though. Is Jisung sad? Is he sitting alone at home staring at the blank TV screen like Minho does in the evening, unable to find the will to turn it on. Is he wandering around aimlessly, feeling like a piece of his soul has been torn from him. Is he missing Minho as much as Minho misses him? Or is he fine? Is the thing Changbin mentioned actually relief. Perhaps some guilt that it had to end like this, but ultimately the knowledge that it’s for the best.
Again, Jisung’s tearful I’m in love with you flashes through Minho’s mind, and he feels what little of his heart he’s reconstructed threaten to break under the pressure. When he’d said that, he’d sounded like he meant it, but he’d still left. He’d still broken things off like the last year meant nothing.
Friends. As if Minho has known what that word means in relation to Jisung since they started fucking. As if they weren’t both desperately in love even then.
Or was Jisung in love? Maybe somewhere along the way he confused infatuation for something deeper. Maybe it just took a year for him to realize that he made a mistake.
In the end, Minho can’t get through his entire workout. Instead, he makes his apologies to a worried Changbin and Jeongin and heads home. It won’t help, he knows, shutting himself up alone with his thoughts, but at least if he starts crying, he’ll do it where no one else can see.
From: Binnie [ 7:44 PM, Thursday]
To: Minho
You looked Miserable tonight at the gym.
Whats going On?
From: Binnie [ 7:44 PM, Thursday]
To: Minho
Is this about Jisung?
Yes, it is. But how can he even begin to talk about it?
So he doesn’t answer the text messages, he just throws his phone to the other side of the couch and huddles up against the armrest, knowing full well that it doesn’t feel right. And it probably won’t for a while.
A while bleeds into next week, and still Minho doesn’t reach out to Jisung, doesn’t try and bridge the gap that’s been created. He doesn’t want to bridge it. He doesn’t want to cross the divide and find there’s nothing on the other side anymore. That he’s the only one who cares enough to try. Does he even care enough to try? Minho’s not sure, because surely if it mattered that much, he would have already extended that hand.
He still feels like a coward. The wedge he’s driving between himself and the rest of his friends isn’t helping.
Because even though Jisung is gone, even though he was the one who always wanted to be open about the relationship, Minho can’t be honest now. There’s nothing stopping him from telling everyone what happened, but to what end? To ruin Jisung’s relationships with their mutual friends? To make them see him differently? To get revenge? The reasons sound worse and worse the more of them he comes up with.
So it just keeps building up. With every text he gets, with every day that passes. All bottlenecking until Minho is surprised he hasn’t burst into tears yet, if only as a last ditch attempt to release the pressure in his head.
Eventually, he does break, but not in the way he expected. Instead, Minho finds himself in front of Seungmin’s door, angry at himself, miserable, and two seconds away from going absolutely insane. He’s got to tell someone what happened. It might as well be the person who somehow knows the most about the situation.
“You look like shit,” Seungmin informs Minho as he pulls open the door.
Pressing the bottle of wine he’d picked up along the way into Seungmin’s hands, Minho flatly mutters, “Jisung and I broke up,” before pushing past the man into his home without a moment’s more preamble.
Reaching out an arm, Seungmin catches Minho before he can get away. Wordlessly, he pulls him into a half hug, one that Minho pulls out of on instinct. Still, the moment of contact is long enough to put a crack in the stubborn shell he’s been holding up for days now.
“You knew this was going to happen.” It’s not an accusation, even though Minho words it like one. He’s not sure what he expected from Seungmin. Maybe a warning, maybe something else. Honestly, he’s not sure he wanted anything. He just didn’t want this.
“I saw you breaking under the pressure.” Regretfully, Seungmin meets his eyes. “It was only a matter of time.”
Gritting his teeth, Minho drags in a shuddering breath. “Yeah, I guess.” Then he’s slipping by Seungmin and into the man’s house, before he can be stopped again.
Instead of trying to stop him, Seungmin simply calls out, “Remember to take your shoes off,” before following him down the hallway and into the living room.
As Minho slips into the familiar room, he finds Chan. The man is lounged out on the couch, a surprised look on his face. “Minho,” he murmurs, then his eyes widen and he’s leaping to his feet to crush the man in a hug. For a moment, Minho struggles to free himself, just like with Seungmin, but when his attempts prove futile he sags into Chan’s hold and allows the older man to smother him. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”
Out of everything, it’s this that finally brings him to tears. After everything, that moment of genuine, unabashed care is almost too much for him to handle. Swallowing back the sob that rises in his throat, Minho just snakes his arms around Chan and hangs on, as the past week and change threatens to force its way out through his eyes.
“Changbin told me you weren’t doing well,” Chan’s saying, just patting his head and holding him tight like he intends to single-handedly fix whatever’s making Minho miserable. “And Hyunjin mentioned you almost crying in the studio, and even Jeongin-“
“I- I’m okay hyung,” Minho promises, finally pulling out of Chan’s hold so he can stubbornly wipe at his eyes. “I’m here, see? I’m in one piece, I’m- I’ll be okay.”
Reappearing from the kitchen, Seungmin takes it upon himself to push a glass into Minho’s hands. “You will be okay,” he repeats, a lot more reserved in his concern, but no less sincere. “Just sit down for a moment, okay hyung? You look like you’re going to fall over.”
It’s only once Minho’s curled up on the couch with a glass in one hand and a blanket thrown haphazardly around his shoulders that Seungmin finally prods for more details. “So… You and Jisung.”
Chan blinks several times at that, but Minho just lets out a sigh. “Yeah,” he mutters, his eyes falling to his lap. “Me and Jisung.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Seungmin purses his lips together and gives Minho a sober look. “Was it..?”
“No, it wasn’t you,” Minho assures him. “It was me, I think. Or maybe him? I don’t know.”
“Hold on, what was what?” Clearly lost, Chan settles in between Seungmin and Minho. “What happened with you and Jisung?”
Seungmin lifts an eyebrow and tilts his head at his boyfriend, the question in his eyes clear. Do you want me to have him leave? The prospect tempts Minho for a moment. Probably, he should insist on telling just Seungmin, especially after making a point of not talking to anyone else, but after the week he’s had, he can’t really make himself care anymore.
Turning to Chan, Minho bites the inside of his cheek for a second before finally speaking. “Jisung and I… Broke up.”
“I- Broke up?” Confusion gentling out instinctively into concern, Chan leans forward. “Do you want to… tell us about it?”
He really doesn’t, but he’s got to tell someone before it tears him apart.
Taking a fortifying sip of his wine, Minho finally launches into the story. And just like last time it all comes out. The lead up to the event, the night itself, the agonizing drive home, and finally, in a small voice, the break up itself. Seungmin stays silent through it all, only interjecting with small hmms and consolatory nods. When Minho mentions Jisung’s absolutely awful suggestion they stay friends, Seungmin winces.
“You know, when I said that before, I didn’t think it would come about like this.” Brows pinching, Seungmin admits, “When you describe it happening like that-“
Gritting his teeth, Minho hunches his shoulders and stares down into his drink. “Can you blame me for telling him to fuck off?”
“Not… Really.”
“Hold on, are you really telling me the two of you have been dating?” Through the whole conversation, Chan has been entirely still, simply staring slack-jawed at Minho, but apparently the end of the man’s rant is enough to bring him back to the present. “Like- Like actually dating and not just share-a-bed, go-on-dates, super-best-friend friends? Are you sure?”
Squinting blearily at the man, Minho pauses for a moment before huffing and looking away. “Yes, unfortunately, I’m sure.”
“I’m sorry, I just- I think I need a moment.” Knuckling his eyes, Chan looks quickly between Minho and Seungmin. “In secret. For a year. How?”
“By not telling anyone,” Seungmin quips, patting his boyfriend on the shoulder. “Though I figured it out a while ago.”
“You assumed we were together when we actually weren’t, that doesn’t count. That’s just you being nosy,” Minho disagrees, before turning back to Chan. “Honestly I’m not sure how? I was there but… Keeping it secret for a year was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and it didn’t even work.”
“It sort of worked. I had no idea. I don’t think Changbin knew either, and Jisung tells us everything.” Shaking his head like he’s utterly bewildered, Chan gives Minho a concerned look. “I mean I knew you guys liked each other, even though neither of you ever talked about it. Jisung isn’t exactly covert. But dating? Keeping it under wraps? Why?”
“A good question.” Humming under his breath, Seungmin lifts his own glass to his lips and takes a contemplative sip. “One that we might never know the answer to.”
“No no, I want an answer,” Chan decides, his mouth pinching down into a tight frown. “I might not be great at math, but I’m doing it and it’s not adding up. Jisung had several boyfriends in high-school and through the beginning of college. He never felt the need to hide them. The only reason he stopped dating around was because of you, Minho.”
Though Chan’s comments probably aren’t supposed to make him feel worse, they absolutely do. Curling in on himself tightly, grabbing for the corners of the blanket like the piece of fabric is going to hide him from the truth, Minho mumbles, “I never knew. He didn’t… He never told me.” So it really was just me. Jisung didn’t have a problem with being gay, or at least bisexual. He just had a problem with Minho.
He liked me that much and still didn’t want people to know? What kind of bullshit is that?
Still looking like he’s physically trying to untangle the story he’s been given, Chan tilts his head. “Are you sure you didn’t say something that made him think it needed to be secret?”
“Channie-“ Seungmin begins, his tone one of gentle admonishment.
But Minho’s already lurching forward on the couch. “Never!” His eyes blaze. “I would never have done something like that. All I wanted was for us to be open about it.”
“Alright but did you tell him that?” Huffing out a breath, Chan waves a hand. “I mean, I know Jisung is a romantic, but he’s also emotionally stupid.”
Seungmin pokes Chan’s leg with a toe. “You’re emotionally stupid too.”
Ears going red, Chan looks away. “Not my point.” Fixing Minho with another pointed stare, the man hesitates for a moment. “I- Why were you willing to keep it secret like that?”
Minho’s chest depresses but he bears his teeth, like that’ll help him make his point. “Because I loved that man, Chan. I loved him so much I was willing to keep our relationship a secret forever if that meant having him.”
“It was killing you,” Seungmin reminds him, only for Minho to direct that wild stare in his direction instead.
“But for him I would have.” Heaving in a breath, Minho tugs at his sleeves before tightening his free hand into a fist. “You don’t get it. When I say forever I mean it. Like only wear the rings in private, never share a last name kind of secret.”
“But why would Jisung of all people want that?” Chan presses, matching Minho’s fire with fire of his own. “I know that guy, he’s like my little brother. Minho- Do you have any idea how depressed Jisung has been these last few days?”
“I hope he is depressed! He broke my fucking heart.”
The moment the words are out of Minho’s mouth, he regrets them. As his expression twists and his jaw loosens, he sits back on his own side of the couch, unable to meet Chan’s eyes. “No, that- That’s not true. I still love him. I don’t want him to be miserable. He doesn’t deserve that.”
“Well let’s not go that far.” Seungmin sticks out a hand. “I think he deserves a little misery.”
“Minho…” Sighing, Chan massages his forehead for a moment before putting together his next thought. “I don’t know what’s going on in Jisung’s head. Apparently, I hardly know him at all, but… When he came into the studio last week, he looked like someone had died.” Sinking back into the couch, Chan slowly looks away, like the middle-distance will provide him with the answers he needs. “He wouldn’t tell us anything, he hardly said a word, but… He was heartbroken. He struggled to write anything, he wasn’t eating-“ Trailing off, the man finally settles on, “What I’m trying to say is however upset you are, Jisung is just as upset.”
It’s not comforting, but in a strange way, it subdues the anger that Minho’s been struggling with. However alone he feels, however hurt, he’s not the only one.
Because Jisung feels it too.
From the other side of the couch, Seungmin frowns and stares at his glass of wine. “Okay, let me get this straight, and correct me if I’m getting anything wrong.”
Slowly, Minho raises his head. Shaking himself out of his daze, Chan’s hand slides over Seungmin’s knee as he glances at the younger boy. “Hmm?”
“So Jisung is gay, right?” A couple nods. “And he’s open about it, but when he comes across someone he actually likes, Minho-hyung, he stops dating and starts pining.”
“Well I don’t think it started out as pining,” Minho begins to argue, only for Seungmin to silence him with a wave.
“Yes it did. So Jisung falls in love, and Minho, you catch feelings and stop sleeping around.” When Minho’s chest swells with several choice words about Seungmin’s phrasing, the other man holds out a hand. “Which there’s absolutely nothing wrong with, but Jisung knew you had a habit of hooking up and it not meaning anything.”
Huffing, Minho settles back down. He doesn’t usually think about his college days, but Seungmin is right, he was a menace back then.
“Eventually the two of you start fucking.” Chan coughs at that, but Seungmin doesn’t flinch. “But you’re just friends, right?”
“At the time yeah,” Minho mutters, still unsure where Seungmin is going with this.
“Right, and we all know how Jisung is about getting anxious and up in his own head when he’s got something big he’s dealing with.” Seungmin’s words ring true, and Minho’s eyes fall to his own drink. Because yeah, he has a point, doesn’t he? “I don’t know about you, but being fuck-friends with the guy you’ve been pining after for years probably qualifies as something big.”
“Okay it definitely wasn’t our best idea,” Minho agrees, remembering that night the whole thing had begun. In that moment, he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was the one to lean in first. Even though Jisung had pushed it further, he’d started it. “But we figured it out. Jisung confessed. I returned the feelings. We were fine.”
“But did you ever explicitly say you were dating?” That interjection is Chan’s. “Because I don’t know if you’ve met Jisung, but he’s capable of misunderstanding just about anything.”
“It’s not like I got the chance to talk about it!” Throwing a hand up in exasperation, Minho exclaims, “That was the whole issue, he never wanted to be open about any part of our relationship.”
Meeting Minho’s eyes with a level stare, Seungmin lifts an eyebrow. “Did he tell you that, or did you assume that?”
Already opening his mouth to retort, Minho stops as what Seungmin’s saying starts sinking in. Because now that the man is mentioning it, no, Jisung never did tell Minho anything. There was that incident, and the fact that Jisung had been the one to lay down the ground rules for being friends-with-benefits in the first place, but other than that, they never really talked about the ‘hey, I don’t want anyone to know about us’ thing. Which retrospectively should have been the first conversation they had when they started dating, if that’s how things were going to continue.
But Minho had been more than happy to keep his mouth shut, and Jisung…
Oblivious to the thoughts flying through Minho’s head, Seungmin plows ahead. “Because, from Jisung’s perspective, you guys start fucking and maybe there’s a confession. Maybe it’s even returned, but then nothing else happens? You guys already acted so close, it wasn’t like there was going to be a drastic change in behavior that would make it obvious that you were official. And if you never talked about it, then-“
“Alright I know he’s dumb but we were together for a year.” Staring at Seungmin in horror, unable to believe what he’s hearing, Minho shakes his head. “He had to figure it out eventually? I told him that I loved him all the time.”
“Okay but how often is ‘all the time’ really?” Staring him down, Seungmin flatly states, “I’ve known you since forever and you have always shown your emotions through actions and not words. I’m sure you told him you loved him, but like Channie said, Jisung can misunderstand anything if he puts his mind to it.”
If it weren’t for Chan between them, Minho would have kicked Seungmin. As it is, he downs the rest of his wine glass and belligerently says, “I don’t fucking believe it.”
“Look I don’t know what Jisung is thinking anymore than the next person, but it’s worth considering, right?” Lips pursing, Seungmin passes the bottle of wine down the couch. “Think about it. How he acted when he broke it off, how heartbroken he is now, the fact he wanted to stay friends, like he thought that was an option…”
Shrugging, Chan mutters, “It’s not my relationship but… I’d rather believe Jisung is just a dumbass instead of thinking he’s an asshole.”
Holding the bottle of wine and staring absently at the dark liquid inside, Minho goes to speak only to stop himself. Admittedly, he wants to believe this is all some massive misunderstanding, but after the week he’s had, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them shattered again. He can’t go through this again. Not so soon after having his heart broken completely.
“Look, I- I don’t want Jisung to be the bad guy.” Setting aside the bottle of wine, along with his empty glass, Minho admits, “I’ve spent the last week thinking that I’m the one who fucked up. But… What if it’s exactly what it looks like?” Pulling himself together as best as he’s able, the man lets out a slow breath. “I still love him, but I’ve already lost him once. I don’t want to lose him again.”
“If you love him that much-“ Seungmin begins, only for Chan to cut him off with a hand.
“Just promise me that if he wants to talk about it, you’ll listen.” Giving Minho a hard stare, Chan carefully says, “I’m not going to go out and tell Jisung exactly what we talked about here, but if he asks, I’m also not going to lie. If you deserve the right to know he’s heartbroken, then he deserves to know that you’re heartbroken.”
It’s not like anything will come out of it. What’s another rain check he never has to cash in. He’s got so many of them already.
“If Jisung wants to talk, I’ll hear him out.” He can’t meet Chan’s eyes when he says it, but he gets the words out regardless, and he knows he means them. “If hearing him out involves another conversation about how he just wants to be friends, however, I’m going to kick his ass.” Breathing out a bitter laugh, Minho mutters, “I know we’ll probably become friends again regardless, but if it’s going to happen, it won’t be until after I’ve… Gotten over it.”
“What startling emotional maturity,” Seungmin quips, even though the little smile on his lips is a gentle one. “You know if you’d started out with that, you probably could have avoided this situation entirely.”
“Well I don’t know about that, but-“ Chan nudges Minho, and laughs when the man pulls an exaggeratedly perturbed expression. “It’s going to be fine, okay. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but it will be okay.”
And even though he’s been telling himself the same thing for a while, when it’s coming from Chan’s mouth, and accompanied by Seungmin’s steady expression, Minho finds that he finally believes it.
Granted, it’s not a magical answer to the pain in his chest, but in that moment, he decides it’s enough. The rest will hopefully come later.
•≈ ⦕✴⦖ ≈•
He gets the text two days after talking to Seungmin and Chan.
Honestly, as much as Jisung has occupied his thoughts, Minho doesn’t actually expect the man to reach out. He’s thought himself to death over the ideas that Seungmin had presented to him, re-contextualizing his relationship after the fact, but in the end, all those what-if’s did was make him more depressed. Because as nice as the concept is, he doesn’t see it as being feasible. It’s the kind of neat ending you’d see in a story book and Minho doesn’t believe in storybook endings.
Yes, there are some weird discrepancies with his and Jisung’s previous relationship, but Minho’s been explaining them away for a year now. It’d take more than one mildly tipsy evening talking it through to change the perspective of what had been first hand knowledge of a year. Does he want to believe it’s true? Absolutely. Does he actually?
Not in the slightest
Out of everything, the knowledge that Jisung never used to be covert about who he dated before Minho sticks out like a sore thumb. He feels like that has become the crux of the whole matter. Because either it’s proof that Jisung’s more of an asshole than he could have ever imagined, or it’s the first clue that somewhere along the line the two of them had a horrible misunderstanding about everything. But without Jisung to ask these questions to, Minho’s left to violently oscillate between the two options, emotions in tow.
He’d rather be hopeful than hate himself and the man he loves, but Minho is terrible at looking on the bright side of things.
So when he finally gets that text, Minho is torn between answering immediately and throwing the phone across the room.
He almost doesn’t believe it when he sees the name flash on his screen, so preoccupied is he with pretending like everything is okay. It’s a memory of a happier time, a flash of something so far removed from his current turmoil that it might as well be a vision. A mirage in the desert.
But he still opens the messages, and his heart thuds weakly against his ribs as he reads it.
From: Hannie <3 [ 5:45 PM, Wednesday]
To: Minho
can we meet up?
From: Hannie <3 [ 5:46 PM, Wednesday]
To: Minho
i think we need to talk.
For a while, he just stares dumbly at the text, like that will get him anywhere. The words don’t really register, almost like there’s something in him that prevents him from fully understanding. But eventually, it computes.
Meet up. With Jisung.
To talk.
It’s what Minho promised Chan he’d do if the man reached out, but now that it’s here, he’s left staring down at his phone dumbly, wondering what he’s supposed to do. Logically, the correct answer is respond to the damn text and say yes. He should nut up and face this man and get it over with. One way or another, he needs to give himself closure.
But it’s one thing to say he will from the safety of Seungmin’s couch, where he’d believed that it would never happen, and it’s another to face the reality of it happening and being forced to make the decision one way or another.
In the end though, even if it weren’t for the promise he made to Chan, Minho’s pretty sure he’d already have his answer. Because for all the things he’s capable of, he’s never been great at saying no to Jisung. So even if it hurts him, even if he can feel the tenuous grasp on normal he’s managed to find slipping away, he still types out an answer. He still hits send, and listens to the little whoosh as his phone reminds him that he can’t take it back now.
From: Minho [5:50 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
Alright. Where am I meeting you?
From: Hannie <3 [ 5:51 PM, Wednesday]
To: Minho
my place. or i can come to yours.
Drawing in a breath, Minho thinks it over. His first instinct is to say his place because he knows it best. The apartment is a place of safety, it’ll give him better footing if things go south, but by the same token, if things go south, he’ll have to convince Jisung to actually leave. Whereas if he goes to Jisung’s place, at least he’ll have the option of fleeing whenever he wants.
As cowardly as it is, he needs that. He doesn’t have the strength to throw Jisung out. Minho needs to be able to get up and leave if he has to.
With that in mind, the answer is simple, even if the emotions rolling around in his chest are anything but.
From: Minho [5:54 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
I’ll come to you.
From: Minho [5:54 PM, Wednesday]
To: Hannie <3
Tonight?
He’d recognize Jisung’s hesitation anywhere. The way the little dots dance, then stop, then dance again. Minho hates that the familiarity tugs at his heart strings, even after everything.
From: Hannie <3 [ 5:57 PM, Wednesday]
To: Minho
yeah. if you can.
Can? Should? Will…
Despite the dread hanging heavily over his head, Minho still grabs for his coat and heads for the door. It’s already bad, he tells himself as he locks up behind him and stares down at his car. It can’t get worse.
It absolutely can, he knows himself and the situation well enough to be entirely aware that Jisung could twist the knife deeper if he wanted to. And Minho will have absolutely no way to stop him or protect himself from the emotions it’ll make him feel.
But fuck it, right? He’s just enough of an emotional masochist to do it anyway.
He’s had it up to here with miserable car rides, but Minho hopes this will be the last one in a while. One way or another he’ll know, right? And if it goes so badly that he can’t think straight, then he’ll call Seungmin and get a ride. Part of Minho can’t believe he’s making a backup plan that looks so dire but with the mood he’s in, he’s not sure he could come up with anything more reasonable.
Absently, he wonders what he’ll say when he gets there. Maybe sorry. That seems like a good place to start. Why was I never good enough for you? Probably not the best thing to lead with, but he feels like he deserves an answer. At least so he can pretend not to hate himself.
Is there a chance that I read this all wrong from the start?
Should he ask that one? No. Will he?
At this point, he isn’t sure. And he’s not entirely sure he’ll be pleased with his own answer.
The trip doesn’t take nearly long enough to settle his nerves. If anything, Minho feels worse than when he left. All he’s been able to do is sit here with himself and think, and that’s the last thing he wants to do. But there’s Jisung’s apartment, and the man’s car is in his designated spot. One way or another, this is it.
Unless he pulls away from the curb now and leaves, he’s going to have to do this.
He doesn’t, he just steps out of the car and looks to the stairs that lead up to Jisung’s place.
Minho’s not sure what he expects. A long, painful walk up to the door, perhaps. Maybe another few minutes down by the street, fighting the urge to run. He assumes Jisung is waiting for him, because he doesn’t want to be the only one with a heart full of dread. But for all of those possibilities, he isn’t ready for reality.
Jisung is outside waiting. Right at the base of the stairs, wearing all black, with that chunky hoodie and those black skinny jeans and that beanie that’s stuffed down over his hair. He looks like a disaster, even from here. His usual style, but it’s disheveled and unkempt, with his blond bangs in his eyes, and his legs pointing inwards in that small way they do when he’s nervous and trying to hide it.
It’s just so him that Minho almost turns around and flees.
But something stops him. Because he can see it, he can see the pain in Jisung’s eyes and the slump of his shoulders and the way his bottom lip is so chewed up that it’s red and puffy even now. He can see the way his hands wiggle in his pockets, and the way he hasn’t noticed Minho, even though Minho can’t look away.
God he looks so bad, but Minho still feels his insides lurch. Like they’re all shutting down in one shuddering thump.
He’s not sure how long he stands there. Long enough that he doesn’t feel the car under his hand, long enough that his bones feel oddly weightless, like he isn’t even real. But the sensation only lasts until Jisung’s eyes flicker in his direction.
Everything restarts. Minho inhales sharply as his body begs for oxygen.
For a moment, Jisung simply stares. Minho sees the pain reflected in the man’s huge eyes as easily as he feels his own. How he’d ever had the strength to walk away before, he doesn’t know, because right then, he’s not sure he could move if he wanted to.
“Hey.”
Jisung’s voice is rough. Minho fights the urge to clear his own throat, like that will help.
“Ah- Hello.”
Jisung’s lips purse and he glances away. “Thanks for- For showing up.” The hesitation kills Minho, almost like the man hadn’t entirely believed that he would. As if Minho has ever been able to stay away from Jisung.
Of course, he almost says, but he holds it back. Instead, he bites his lip and drops his eyes to the pavement. In all the years he’s known Jisung, he’s never felt a divide between them quite like this. There’s so much in the air that needs to be said, and yet it feels like one wrong word will be enough to bring everything down around their ears. Minho doesn’t want to be the one to cause that destruction.
But someone has to break the silence, before it strangles them both.
“You said you wanted to talk.” Rolling his shoulders, tightening his jaw, Minho cocks his head down the block. “Should we… Walk and talk?” That seems less threatening. Instead of facing off like this across a tiny parking area, with Jisung still hiding in the stairwell and Minho keeping one hand on his car like that will help him get away faster.
But Jisung is shaking his head, and Minho is shocked to see the determination glowing in the man’s eyes. “No I- We can do it upstairs.” Pausing, as though realizing how his words sound, he adds, “Please,” under his breath.
Minho could walk away.
He doesn’t.
Instead he finally steps away from his car and follows Jisung up the familiar set of stairs to his apartment. There’s still a thousand things coiling in his gut, and it might be easier to leave, but he can’t. Not now. Not when he’s so close to finally getting an answer.
Stopping just inside of his apartment, Jisung turns to face Minho. The light reflecting from the kitchen doesn’t offer much illumination, but the sunlight still outside is enough for him to see the man’s expression. Maybe it’s weak of him, but Minho thinks this would be easier if it were dark.
Because like this, he’s able to see the look on Jisung’s face. The dark circles under his eyes, and the way his nose scrunches slightly and his lips press tight, like he’s trying to hold himself together. And when their gazes meet he can see Jisung’s heart skip a beat, can see something in him break. Minho’s not strong enough to resist the man on a good day, and this isn’t a good day.
His heart thumps weakly, and distantly he wonders why it hasn’t stopped working entirely.
Eyes falling to his feet, Jisung admits, “I’m not sure where to begin.”
Closing the door behind him, shutting out the golden rays of the sun, Minho settles his stance and crosses his arms. “From the top.” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as cold as it does, but he’s not sure he’s functional enough to manage anything but ‘flat’.
Pulling off his beanie, Jisung runs a hand through his messy blond hair. “I- I was talking to Changbin this week, and he was saying some stuff. Stuff about you, and- Well I started rethinking a couple things and I didn’t want that to be where I left things between us.”
Something sour builds up at the back of Minho’s throat. “They put you up to this.”
“No!” Fiercely, Jisung jerks his eyes back up to Minho’s. “I put myself up to this. They- None of our friends have anything to do with it.” Swiftly he pulls in a breath. Hard and shaky, but determined. “I’m doing this for myself.” A thin, pained smile. “I assure you, my intentions are purely selfish.”
Before Minho can interrupt him, Jisung quickly says, “Minho, I’m in love with you.”
“You might have mentioned that b-“
“No I don’t think you get it.” Staring at him, Jisung repeats, “I love you. I have for years. Since we were in college. Hell, I think I might have fallen for you the day I met you. I mean, yeah, you’re gorgeous, but you’re also one of the best damn people I know. You’re… You’re smart and you’re funny and you can take me apart with just a few words. You know everything about me and yet you still stuck around. And you’ve always supported me, even when all of my goals looked like pipe dreams.”
Waving a hand, Jisung admits, “Half the time I don’t understand you. Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall, and sometimes I’m convinced you’re not human, but you’re always there. You keep coming back and I may not get it but I don’t think I have to get it all the time.” This smile is a little less painful, a little more tender. “When I say I love you, I mean it.”
It’s more of a confession than Minho’s ever gotten from the man. He’s definitely gotten a thousand compliments, and a few furtive ‘I love you’s, but never something like this. Not with Jisung staring directly into his eyes, like he’s somehow trying to reach through and touch Minho’s soul.
A chord inside him trembles. Or maybe it’s just him trembling.
“God, I had it for you so bad that it hurt to try and keep it quiet. And then after that kiss I…” Swallowing, Jisung returns to rubbing the back of his neck as his expression scrunches up into a bitter laugh. “Honestly I thought you were going to tell me to fuck off, but you said yes and then we were having sex and god it was perfect, but it wasn’t enough.”
Shaking his head, the man looks away. “How could it be enough? I loved you. I wanted everything.”
It’s the same thing Minho had thought before they got together. That yearning, that feeling of incompleteness. Fucking with a broken heart, wondering desperately why he couldn’t be satisfied with what he’d been given. Wishing, even though it made him feel selfish every time it did.
And yet something isn’t adding up, because Jisung’s saying this like it’s a confession. As if it isn’t just putting to words what Minho already knows.
“I really tried, you know. I’ve been trying. I wanted it to be enough because it’s more than most people get, right? It was better than being rejected outright, but…” Jisung heaves in a breath, and Minho hears the shiver of tears beyond it. “I think I finally realized it wasn’t better.” Looking up at him, Jisung straightens his back and tips his chin up. “Minho, I love you, and I can’t keep pretending like this is- was just friends-with-benefits for me. This, whatever it was, it was worse than not having you at all.”
Oh.
Little by little, everything falls into place, and the pain in Minho’s chest becomes something else entirely as he stares dumbfounded at the absolute dumbass that he’s had the pure and wonderful misfortune of falling in love with.
Unaware of the thoughts running through Minho’s head, Jisung purses his lips together and begins, in a much smaller voice, “I get it if you still don’t want to see me or stay friends, but I’d rather be honest than keep-“
“Han Jisung, light of my life, apple of my fucking eye, we were dating.”
As his voice fades, Jisung tips his head and blinks twice. As a look of pure bafflement passes over his face, his shoulders shake with one of those silent laughs that might not be a laugh at all. “I- What?”
It’s so stupid and yet Minho believes it. Believes that somehow Jisung never registered his answering confession the year before, and managed to misinterpret everything in between. And of course, if he’d thought they weren’t together, then he never would have had anything to be public about. Typically you didn’t go telling everyone you were fucking your best friend, especially if you were in love with them.
As more and more falls into place, Minho fights the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Because why the hell would Jisung care what their friends thought. It had seemed weird and out of character because it was. And Minho had been just out of touch with his emotions enough that he’d never pushed. Had convinced himself that this was fine. Even though it had been hurting both of them.
And to think this would have never happened if he’d just talked about it.
Taking a moment to allow the hilarity of the entire god-forsaken situation to sink in, Minho shakes his head and incredulously states, “You told me you loved me a whole fucking year ago. I told you I loved you back.” His voice breaks just a bit, as laughter battles with what might be tears. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”
Opening and closing his mouth uselessly, a bit like a fish out of water, Jisung finally sucks in a breath. “I have no memory of that.”
Taking a step forward, Minho can’t help but demand, “Are you telling me you broke up with me on our anniversary for fucking this?”
Weakly, Jisung squeaks, “Our what?”
Sighing, a smile on his face despite everything, Minho breathes, “I thought we were dating. I’ve thought we were since last year. You confessed to me and I thought that was it. I just assumed you wanted to keep things quiet for a different reason.” Pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead, he holds back what’s definitely laughter. “I thought your confession in the car was you breaking up with me.”
Because in the end, they’re both idiots, but given the circumstances, Minho is prepared to forgive both of them.
As it finally clicks, the gears visibly fitting together and firing up in Jisung’s head, the man tentatively asks, “I- So. If I were to ask you to be my boyfriend-“
Tension going out of his body, Minho finally chuckles, the sound weak but warm. “I’d fucking say yes, Jisung, oh my god.”
As a careful grin creeps its way onto his lips, Jisung shifts closer, until he’s hardly a foot away from Minho, still nervous, but with hope glimmering in his eyes. “What if I were to ask to kiss you?”
Feeling his own face stretch into a helpless smile, Minho reaches out and catches Jisung’s cheeks in his palms. “Jisung, you’ve never had to ask. Get over here and kiss me.”
He’s heard it described like coming home. Like fireworks. Like butterflies or a tidal wave. Safety and security. Minho isn’t sure if it’s any of that, but when Jisung kisses him, it’s like the first time. A breaking of tension that’s built up for too long. It’s a release, like an exhale of breath, like the unclenching of muscles, like the return of a steady heartbeat.
It may not be ‘like coming home’ to him, but Minho would argue that it’s something better.
Jisung tastes like pizza and exhaustion but he doesn’t care, all he focuses on is the way the man’s lips move against his own, the way his arms slip around Minho’s waist, as they press closer together. It’s hardly been more than a week, but it might as well have been forever with how starved of this he feels, how much he wants it. Everything is the slight puffiness of Jisung’s bottom lip, and the man’s skin under his fingers, and the hands bunched up into the back of his shirt and god help him, he loves everything about it. And even though it had taken a moment of devastating heartbreak to fully be given what he wants, Minho would live it a thousand times over for this.
Painfully aware of the lack of breath left in his lungs, Minho pulls back with a muted gasp. Even in the dark, he sees the way Jisung’s lashes flutter, and his adam’s apple bobs in a breathless laugh.
“Fuck- I love you.” Before he can really register the croak in Jisung’s voice, he’s being dragged closer again. Minho almost laughs as his boyfriend presses tiny, adoring kisses all over his face. From the bridge of his nose to the tip, to both of his cheek bones and to the corners of his mouth. One to his chin and one to his forehead, and every one feels like love. Like an outpouring of emotions that’s been building up almost forever.
“You love me.” He says it like he’s relishing the words, like he’s trying to cement them in his own head. Usually, Minho would tease him for it, but right now, he can’t even begin to.
“I do love you.” Settling his hands around Jisung’s shoulders, Minho looks down so he can meet his boyfriend’s eyes. “I love you more than you could ever possibly know.”
He sees it, the way the smile blooms over Jisung’s face, the way that the last traces of worry clear from his eyes. Why it’s taken him this long to finally realize what he’s been missing, he doesn’t entirely know, but Minho vows to never make the same mistake twice. Not as long as he has Jisung, hopefully not as long as he lives.
This kiss is like welcoming someone else home. Like opening the door to a long lost love, like feeling complete after wandering around with only half a heart. Minho thinks that maybe if he comes up with enough metaphors, he’ll be able to describe the rush of emotions that race through him as he tastes laughter on Jisung’s tongue, but it might take him a while. Because it’s a lot, and for all his year of sort of being in a relationship, he doesn’t think he’s ever allowed himself to feel quite this much.
They stay like that for a long time, just exchanging soft kisses in the darkness of Jisung’s hallway. Until both of them are entirely out of breath, and Minho’s lips are swollen almost as bad as Jisung’s. Until they’re laughing weakly more than anything, and Minho is certain he isn’t going to break down crying with relief. Logically, he knows they've been there for a while, but if you told him they’d only been there a minute, he’d have believed you.
“No more secrets, okay,” Minho murmurs, as he presses himself into Jisung’s chunky hoodie and sticks his face into the crook of the man’s neck. “No more it’s not important or- Or this must be what he’s feeling okay? You tell me what you’re thinking, and if you don’t understand what I’m thinking then for heaven’s sake, please ask.”
“I will hyung, I will,” Jisung assures him, his fingers tangled up in Minho’s hair. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”
“No, I should have too.” Thinking back on it, Minho can clearly see all the times he should have just asked, should have been more open instead of pushing everything down and assuming a clandestine kiss could fix it. “I just thought that if I said something, I’d make you upset.”
“I thought if I said something, you’d leave.” Jisung’s laugh is rueful, but he accompanies it with more absent pats to Minho’s head. “It makes me feel kind of stupid now, but the idea of losing you…”
As the heavy feeling of a sob welling up in his throat returns, Minho tightens his arms around Jisung and nods into his shoulder. “I know.” And this he’s certain he understands. “But we’re still here.”
“We are.” Hand pausing in Minho’s hair, Jisung draws in a quick breath before clearing his throat. “Uh… While I’m thinking about it…”
Pulling back slightly, just enough that he can see the nervous look on Jisung’s face, Minho lifts an eyebrow. Catching the expression, Jisung’s cheeks heat up, but he presses on regardless, like he’s got to say it now, otherwise he’s going to lose his nerve.
“Minho, will you be my boyfriend?”
Minho almost laughs. As it is, he’s pretty sure that’s what finally breaks him.
As several stubborn tears slip from the corners of his eyes, he leans forward and catches Jisung in a soft kiss. Hardly more than a press of lips against lips, but he pours everything into it. All the love he’s had for this man since he met him, and all the love he has left to give. Because he might be a little dumb sometimes, and he might have made this so much more complicated than it needed to be, but so did Minho, and he doesn’t really mind.
“Yes, Jisung, I’ll be your boyfriend,” Minho hums against his mouth.
“Great.” Jisung laughs. “It’d have been really awkward if you said no.”
Chuckling through his tears, Minho puts his face against Jisung’s shoulder. “I love you.”
Patting Minho’s back softly, Jisung lets out a relieved breath. “I love you too.”
•≈ ⦕✴⦖ ≈•