Work Text:
MINHO
The pressure of suddenly being responsible for a group of companies is one thing, but having to sit through a three-hour meeting to listen to stuttering geriatrics discuss mergers and returns on investments is another. A lot of the information being delivered can be sent via email, yet the executive team Minho is part of comprises mostly old men who refuse to let 'traditional' corporate practices go, and it quickly gets on his nerves. So while he's patient and cordial from start to finish, the moment the meeting ends, he's the first one out of the room.
"Seongjin-biseo, please don't follow me," he softly instructs his secretary between gritted teeth when the latter catches up to him. Often generous with polite greetings, he doesn't look at anyone he passes and keeps his eyes on the elevator.
At first, he has no idea where to go, but then he remembers spotting a lounge area on the twenty-fourth floor the previous week, so he heads there. Even if it's an option for him to go to a nearby cafe and get a table by himself, he prefers not to leave the building if he can help it since the process of returning to the office is a hassle.
Thankfully, the area is empty and quiet when Minho gets there. He chooses one of the armchairs to sit on, appreciating how much more comfortable it is compared to the one in his office. After taking a few deep breaths, he takes out his phone and sees that there are KakaoTalk messages waiting for him.
notjackiechan97: anyone who's up for drinks after work, type "aye"
binthere_donethat: ayayayyy! :3 :3 :3
jinnie_in_a_bottle: aye to drinks and kicking binnie-hyung out of this gc forever
jinnie_in_a_bottle: [annoyed cat sticker]
binthere_donethat: aawww don't be like that i'll behave
binthere_donethat: [crying dog sticker]
notjackiechan97: i'm not the host of this gc so i can't remove anyone, paging @ehlomein
binthere_donethat: i bet he's stuck with the oldies again [nauseated emoji]
jinnie_in_a_bottle: when is he not stuck with the oldies these days?
notjackiechan97: when he's at home
jinnie_in_a_bottle: doesn't he get calls from them even on weekends?
notjackiechan97: oh yeah that's right
binthere_donethat: it's the price he pays for winning south korea's next top chaebol [money bag emoji]
notjackiechan97: whoops gotta go, see you guys at the usual place and time
jinnie_in_a_bottle: why are you not working @binthere_donethat? [eyebrow raise emoji]
binthere_donethat: i'm here working to capture your heart baby
binthere_donethat: [heart-eyed dog sticker]
jinnie_in_a_bottle: wtf is a heart baby
jinnie_in_a_bottle: @ehlomein on second thought please kick me out, i hate it here
binthere_donethat: [crying cat sticker]
Reading the group chat instantly lightens Minho's mood, but because he's not the type to admit such a sentimental thing, he replies in the best way he knows how.
ehlomein: what if i remove myself and @notjackiechan97 so you two lovebirds can get some privacy?
jinnie_in_a_bottle: !!!!!!!! you wouldn't dare lee minho!!!!!!!! [horrified bunny emoji]
binthere_donethat: i'd create another ocean with my tears of joy if you did that
ehlomein: i might do it at a spontaneous time so watch out
jinnie_in_a_bottle: i'm uninstalling katalk so fast istg
binthere_donethat: i'll follow you wherever you go [heart hands emoji]
jinnie_in_a_bottle: [green duck breathing fire sticker]
ehlomein: anyway aye and goodbye
ehlomein: i feel like i'm interrupting something here
ehlomein: [blushing bunny sticker]
jinnie_in_a_bottle: [raging dog with fire in the background sticker]
binthere_donethat: [bear pouring hearts out of a basket sticker]
Minho spends the next sixteen minutes watching random cat and cooking videos on YouTube. He has to stop, however, when his stomach gurgles. The time on his phone screen tells him it's too late to eat a full meal considering he'll be having dinner with his friends soon.
While he's thinking of an alternative, his eyes wander around the open space, eventually falling on the vending machine a few feet away from him. Though he thinks of such contraptions as a money grab, using this one would be convenient for him.
He stands up, approaches it, and inspects each row. He doesn't go beyond the fourth one from the top because it's there that he locates a childhood favorite. As luck would have it, he always keeps a few coins in his wallet despite having nothing else in there but cards; he gets the exact amount needed and slips the coins into the designated slot in the machine.
After using the number pad to input the snack's corresponding code, he expects to see and hear movement, but even after some seconds pass, nothing happens.
"Is it broken?" he whispers to himself. There are lights on the machine, and no one has put up a sign indicating that it's malfunctioning, so it should be working fine. Alas, the chips he'd chosen in hopes of not only appeasing his hunger but also improving his day in the corporate hellhole he's in remain as unreachable as the ordinary life he'd envisioned for himself long ago.
In his distress, Minho barely notices the stairwell door being opened and footsteps coming toward him.
JISUNG
"Yes, that's right," says Jisung, smiling to sound more pleasant over the phone and twirling an orange pen in his right hand to stay focused. "The more services you choose from us, the bigger the discounts you'll receive. One of my clients, for example, reduced his annual printing expenditure from ₩250,000,000 to just ₩210,000,000. Imagine what you could do with those savings. Personally, I'd start by looking for the next first-class flight to—I'm kidding." His fake but highly convincing laugh gets the attention of the person to his left, who gives him a knowing smirk that he returns with a wink.
"Well, great!" continues Jisung as he sits up straight from having leaned back on his chair and runs a hand through his short, jet-black hair. "Thank you, Chulmoo-nim, for deciding to go with LJS Printing. I'll go ahead and process your application, and you can expect our accounting staff to contact you regarding your first payment and first project with us. Again, we are grateful for your business. Have a wonderful day."
The second he ends the call, his smile drops, and his upbeat disposition falls away entirely as he double-checks Mr. Park's documents and reassigns the order to the accounting department. He officially ends his fifth new-client session of the day with a large swig of water from his black reusable bottle.
"Glad you finally nabbed that guy," remarks the man he'd winked at earlier. "I heard three other companies were eyeing him, too. The daily volume of labels he needs is pretty wild."
"I've tried several flavors of his kombucha, and they all taste like ordinary juice," says Jisung, "so I can understand the demand for his products. Kombucha isn't exactly popular for its taste." When he checks the hour on his computer, he sees that there's enough time between now and the end of his shift for a light snack. "You want anything from the Punching Bag?"
"One of 'em coconut biscuits if there's any," answers the other. "Otherwise, I'm okay."
"Coconut biscuits it is."
Grabbing his mobile, Jisung stands up from his desk, scans his ID to open the door, and takes the stairwell one floor down, a level that he knows is open to all employees in the building. He steps out into a lobby furnished with a teal sofa set in the center that stands out among the white floors and walls, but he ignores it because he's there for one thing only: the extra-large vending machine sitting pretty in one corner.
Except he doesn't see it in its entirety right away because someone else has gotten there before him.
Since he's sure that the wait won't be that long, Jisung stands behind the other guy at a respectable distance and scrolls through his Twitter feed to avoid boredom. Not even a minute into it, however, he hears a defeated sigh fill the empty area, prompting him to look up at the man, particularly his snackless hands.
As a fan of that specific vending machine, Jisung leans into his instinct to protect its reputation.
"You'll have to forgive the Punching Bag's lack of motivation," he says. "It's fantastic, but it's as tired as the rest of us."
The person turns his head slightly toward Jisung and goes, "Excuse me? Punching bag?"
"That's our pet name for this old-timer," explains Jisung. "It's been here for close to a decade, and it's still going strong. But given that it's part of the elderly community, you have to help it along so it succeeds at what it does. Let me demonstrate."
He walks past the stranger to position himself beside the vending machine, and then with the flat side of a tightly closed fist, he gives the metal box a solid hit to the side, causing the other person to twitch in surprise and a bag of spicy potato chips to drop into the pickup compartment.
The man raises both of his eyebrows at the sight. "Wow."
"Have a look here," urges Jisung. Although the other seems wary, he comes closer to check what Jisung is pointing at. It's a shallow dent on the wall of the vending machine. "That's the real button you have to push to get anything from this thing."
"Hence the name," says the man in discernment, grinning while retrieving his purchase. "It's definitely accurate."
"You either love or hate the Punching Bag," comments Jisung. "Though it has the best snacks in the entire building, you have to put in a bit of effort to get what you want, but hey, anything worth having doesn't always come easy."
"That's true," nods the stranger. It's then that he faces Jisung completely and unknowingly knocks the wind out of the salesman with every striking feature on his face, his flawlessly styled medium brown hair, his well-fitting suit, and his confident stance. "Thank you for helping me. Had it not been for you, I wouldn't be in possession of this stress reliever in the form of excessive salt and empty calories."
Instead of succumbing to his ridiculously hot guy-induced brain fart, Jisung beams and responds with, "Yeah, anytime."
It dawns on him that that statement is a common way to end a conversation in lending-a-hand situations, and it's the last thing he wants with the most attractive man he's seen in years. What if they never run into each other again? What if, akin to the plot of Avengers: Infinity War, this is his one chance to be with someone for more than five months and he ends up wasting it?
No, he can't allow introverted Jisung to win today.
It's thirty (he's twenty-six, but who's checking?), flirty, and thriving Jisung's time to shine.
"I've never seen you 'round these parts," he says in a casual manner reminiscent of a trying-hard cowboy, but it's all he's got. "Are you a new hire?"
The man thinks for a moment. "I…guess so. It's my third week here."
"Oh, that's perfect," says Jisung, careful not to seem overly enthusiastic. "I can show you around, give you the deets on which bathrooms you should use for regular number two and watery number two"—this makes the other laugh—"that sort of thing. Also, oh my God, I can't believe I forgot to mention this: the Punching Bag has a counterpart for beverages."
"You don't say," goes the stranger, whose interest in the matter appears genuine.
"I do say," returns Jisung. "It has the best peach drink you'll find within a ten-kilometer radius. But you have to kick the machine in two different places first."
Both the man and Jisung look down at the former's black loafers and the latter's white sneakers. "Sadly, only one of us is wearing the right shoes for that."
"That's fine. I reckon you look good no matter what you wear," remarks Jisung before the filter separating his mouth and brain activates. Although he's mortified by his own candor, he maintains a neutral appearance and even locks eyes with the stranger. Never mind that the man's electrifying gaze is short-circuiting his thought processes. Based on experience, he expects to be shot down in three, two—
"I reckon the same thing for you," says the man with a coy expression.
I'll be damned, thinks Jisung in awe. Don't mess this up, counterfeit Casanova. "Is that a subtle yes to the office tour?" he asks. "I'm telling you, that peach drink is a must-try, sweet but not too sweet."
"As sweet as your face?"
Jisung purses his lips to stop himself from smiling like an imbecile. "No, 'coz there's only one thing on this planet that's as sweet as, if not sweeter than, my face."
"And what's that?"
"Yours."
The other is quick to laugh, clearly caught off guard as further indicated by the mild reddening of his ears. Jisung giggles with him and wonders why he's so at ease with someone he met only a few minutes ago.
Once he's calm again, the man says, "I'd love for you to tour me around and then some, but I'm not fond of going anywhere with someone whose name I don't know."
"Ah, I can fix that." Jisung pulls out his wallet out of his gray blazer's inner pocket, remembering that he has a business card in it. To his dismay, it turns out to be an old one, but he figures it doesn't matter because his complete name is printed on it. "Sorry. I used this when I was at my previous company, so ignore the logo," he says as he hands the card to the stranger. "That's still my personal number on there, if that's the kind of information you're interested in."
"You give your personal number to clients?"
"Sure. It's my way of assuring them that they can reach me anytime."
"Will we get interrupted by your clients during the tour?"
"I'll turn my phone off so you can have my undivided attention."
The man looks silently at Jisung for a moment. If Jisung had known any better, he'd say that the other is impressed by him or, at the very least, amused by his responses. Truth be told, he isn't usually this forward about anything, especially when it comes to romantic advances, but perhaps the high of having won a hard-to-get client is doing wonders for him. Maybe this novel piece of knowledge about himself is the key to improving his dating outcomes.
"How gentlemanly of you," says the man. At the sound of the elevator's arrival on the floor, he adds, "I'm uncertain when I'll be free, but I'll give you a call once I do…" His eyes flicker to the card in his hand for a moment. "...Han Jisung." He takes a step back before he begins walking toward the elevator, whose doors are already opening.
"You haven't given me your name," calls out Jisung.
As a handful of people make their way out of the elevator, the stranger looks back to say, "It's Minho," and then enters the elevator. He doesn't break eye contact even when the gap in the doors becomes nonexistent.
Jisung hates moving. While he can tolerate lifting weights, he avoids all forms of hardcore cardio. The most he's willing to do is a leisurely walk with a cold drink in hand and as many sitting stops as possible.
Yet it takes him mere seconds to race up the stairs, power-walk to his station, and announce to his colleague slash friend in a steady voice, "Yongbok-ah, guess who pulled the male version of Aphrodite."
Yongbok frowns at him and goes, "The only thing I understood in that statement was my name."
"I met a guy so beautiful that when I looked at him, my 20/20 vision was restored," explains Jisung while crouched down beside the other.
"Uh… Does that mean you no longer need your glasses?" asks Yongbok, giggling softly when he receives a glare in return. "Weren't you supposed to be getting us snacks?"
"Oh, I got a snack, alright," brags Jisung, "a freaking ten-course meal even. I gave him my number, and he said he'd call me."
"What if he doesn't?"
"I'll cry myself to sleep for a minimum of six nights in a row. Until then, I'm high up in the clouds, and that's all that matters." Jisung sits down on his chair with the widest smile he's had on his face in a while. On a more terrible day, he would've fretted over Yongbok's comment, but if he thinks about it, just the fact that a handsome man had reciprocated his coquetries in a painfully prosaic environment is already worth celebrating.
Of course, Jisung crosses all his fingers and toes for Minho to call him.
MINHO
"That has to be the most toothache-inducing meet-cute story I've ever fucking heard," remarks Hyunjin as he puts down his glass of ice-cold beer. The group of four are at their frequented restaurant, each with an alcoholic drink and sharing an assortment of dishes. "Did you really not just get that off Reddit?"
Minho frowns at him. "Do I look like someone who owns a Reddit account?"
"Honestly, yes. Dishonestly, also yes."
"When do you plan on calling him?" asks Chan, his dimples visible because he's been smiling since Minho had started talking animatedly (a rare phenomenon) about a man named Jisung.
"I…don't know," admits Minho with a fallen expression. "Four days next week, I'll be on a business trip, so he and I will be in different time zones, and I'll probably be swamped with dumb meetings and pretentious lunches and dinners." He heaves out a sigh and watches the cubes in his long island iced tea bumping into each other as he stirs it with the straw. "This is the worst time for me dating-wise."
"Nonsense," says Changbin after swallowing two slices of boiled pork. "You've been single for how long, Hyunjin-ah?"
Hyunjin taps his phone screen for a few seconds and answers with, "One year, ten months, and sixteen days to this day."
"And jog my memory: when did our friend get laid last?"
Tap, scroll, tap. "One year, one month, and twenty-three days ago."
"What in god's name is that?" Though Minho tries to grab Hyunjin's phone, its owner has the advantage of being taller than any of them and therefore has enough arm span to keep it far away.
"It's my tea calendar," explains Hyunjin as he locks his phone and pockets it. "I record every important event in my friends' lives so when something new happens, I can look back on previous entries and either slap or commend someone with a decision they'd made in the near or distant past. It's got notes, photos, the whole shebang."
"It's stored in a cloud, and he gave me access to it," adds Changbin, smug.
"I only know it exists," says Chan nervously when Minho turns to him. "I haven't looked at it."
"What I'm getting at here is that this is the best time for you to meet someone because it's been ages since you've gone out with someone," goes Changbin. "Who cares if you have a lot of work? If there's a will, there's a way."
"The will may or may not be there 100%," mutters Minho.
"How can it not be?" asks Hyunjin, incredulous. "Your dick must already have cracks in it, it's so dry."
Chan chokes on his beer and starts coughing. Changbin, who's cackling, rubs his back to soothe him.
"Seriously, though, you haven't gushed about a man in a long time," continues Hyunjin, "so we're rooting for you. We want things to work out between you and this Jisung-ssi."
Coughing one last time, Chan asks, "Do you have photos of him? I wanna imagine the vending machine incident more properly."
"We all know the answer to that," smirks Changbin. "You're talking to a social media search genius."
Minho feels his ears getting warm as he opens the album on his phone labeled with the hamster emoji and holds up the device for the trio to see. "They're from his Instagram," he says while he swipes through each image, which is a screenshot he'd just cropped.
"You were right when you compared him to a cream puff," remarks Chan, still looking at the pictures. "Those cheeks and those eyes—oh damn."
Changbin gets closer to the phone to inspect the old gym selfies that have come up and even zooms in on Jisung's chiseled arms and shoulders. "Is this still him?" Minho nods. "He's a beast under all those baggy clothes?!"
"If you're not making a move on him, I will," threatens Hyunjin with a charming smile. "It's not every day you'll find a muscular man with the energy of a magical anime girl."
"I'm literally right here," complains Changbin and playfully slaps Hyunjin's upper arm.
"No one at this table except for me is allowed to touch him," declares Minho, his tone and face conveying that he's not playing around. "Get your own brawny anime girl." After putting his phone away, he takes a long sip of his beverage before helping himself to some stir-fried octopus. His peaceful munching is broken by a phone camera going off.
When he looks up from his food, he sees Hyunjin typing on his mobile.
"Alright," grins Hyunjin afterward. "The tea calendar is updated."
Chan, who's sitting beside Minho, nudges him. "You should call him as soon as possible. It'll be good for you to have a distraction while you're still figuring things out at the company. Work hard, flirt harder—isn't that how it goes?"
"Maybe it's because I haven't had much practice lately," starts Minho, "but I'm kinda nervous about this. What if he looks good but his personality sucks?"
"That's just your nerves talking," comments Changbin.
"I second the motion," says Hyunjin. "Besides, would you really be able to think about how horrible his personality is while he's rawdogging you?"
This time, Chan chokes on enoki mushrooms.
JISUNG
If it's true that time flies when you're having fun, time turns into a lazy garden snail and settles on Jisung's shoulder over the weekend, making him miserable for forty-eight hours that feel three times as long.
It's a shame, Jisung acknowledges, to suffer through two days of legitimate freedom, but how can he enjoy them when he hasn't gotten anything from Minho? Not an SMS, not a KakaoTalk message, not even a missed call from an unknown number that Jisung partially assumes is Minho, so he returns the call, and lo and behold it's actually Minho because who else could it be, and they start talking and laughing, and then the next day they move in together and apply for a joint bank account online to start saving up for their dream home and animal sanctuary.
Suffice to say, Jisung's imagination runs wild while everything else is at a standstill.
"Do you want me to bring you some food?" asks Yongbok over the phone. He'd made the call after reading Jisung's Sunday morning tweet he was too good to be true. "I can stop by that pizza place you like, and we'll binge-watch the One Piece live-action series again."
"I'm a goner," groans Jisung. "It occurred to me just now that the actor playing Zoro kinda looks similar to Minho. This is a nightmare." He lets himself fall face-first onto the sofa in dramatic fashion. "Why do songs about having a crush sound sweet and lovely when in truth it's the modern-day equivalent of being burned at the stake?"
Yongbok giggles at the metaphor. "Maybe you should just give it more time. You met him Friday."
"I'm expecting too much, aren't I?" asks Jisung in a guilty tone as he rolls onto his back.
"Kinda, yeah."
"This is why I'm single."
"You're single because your exes are jerks," corrects Yongbok. "If Minho doesn't call you, it's his loss—you're a total catch."
"Yongbok-ah, if you keep this up, I might fall in love with you."
"Cute, but I want someone who can bench-press me at least twenty times."
"That criterion doesn't make sense," argues Jisung. "Physical strength isn't everything."
"It's not," agrees Yongbok, "but if someone attempts to kidnap me or if my apartment goes up in flames and I need to save my belongings, my hunky partner will be there to carry me and my gaming PC and accessories off into the sunset."
Jisung rolls his eyes despite his friend's inability to see the reaction. "Destiny's Child's iconic song about female independence is wasted on you."
"Two out of three members of Destiny's Child have spouses," counters Yongbok, his smirk evident in his enunciation.
"I'm too heartbroken to discuss how it's possible for one's independence to stay intact in a marriage or civil union," says Jisung. "Thank you for trying to cheer me up, but I can feel fecal matter in the waiting room, and I prefer letting them into Dr. Toilet's office without anyone witnessing."
"Even if you're the most creative person I know, Jisung-ah, next time please spare me from having to think of your poop as patients or really anything other than poop."
"Baby, you love it when I talk shit."
"I promise you I don't. I'm hanging up. Goodbye, and have fun defecating."
At the conclusion of his bowel movement, Jisung prepares a late breakfast of over-easy eggs, buttered toast, cherry tomatoes, and black coffee. He then washes the dishes, vacuums and mops the floor, changes his beddings, and does the laundry. Every now and then, he peeks at his phone in case there are notifications (zero) and rechecks that it's not on silent mode (paranoia). It takes him around three hours to accomplish everything, and still Minho doesn't contact him. The remainder of his weekend slides by molasses-like.
On Monday, Jisung and Yongbok head to a fried chicken restaurant to have lunch with two of their college friends, Seungmin and Jeongin, who are both at a different company located in the same business district. The first two men order their go-to group meal when they get there.
"What's up with him?" Seungmin asks Yongbok upon seeing Jisung slumped against the brick interior wall. "Did you tell him about that time you broke his gaming console?"
Two lines form between Jisung's brows. "What gam—"
"He's just talking gibberish probably 'coz it's a new work week," interrupts Yongbok with a nervous laugh before warning Seungmin with his eyes. "Isn't that right, Seungmin-ah?"
Seungmin doesn't respond and takes the chair across from Jisung while Jeongin sits beside him.
"The last time hyung looked like this was when he had food poisoning but thought he could recover using pure will," says Jeongin, snickering at the memory. "But really, what's going on?"
"A man is what's going on," half answers and half whines Jisung. "All men do is lie. And look delicious doing it to lure in gullible people like me."
"Can't argue with the 'gullible' part," remarks Seungmin, "but the 'man' part is intriguing. Tell us more before I lose interest."
"Yongbok-ah, please do the honors," requests Jisung. "I'm too forlorn to do the retelling myself."
In as much detail as he can remember, Yongbok recounts Jisung and Minho's time at the vending machine, with Jisung's sighs and sobs serving as background music. He ends the story with, "But until now, he hasn't gotten in touch," which has Jisung sliding a hand down the wall since he can't do it with his entire body while seated.
"Sounds like a player," comments Jeongin as he gets two pieces of chicken from the bucket in the middle of the table and places them on his plate already containing rice, "and a proficient one at that."
"To be fair, he mentioned not knowing what his schedule would be," says Yongbok.
"Are you on his side?" gasps Jisung.
"Of course not, but there are two sides to every situation, and Minho-ssi might be a great guy with too much on his plate for all we know," explains Yongbok.
"That's strange, though," goes Seungmin while choosing which pickled radish cube he should consume. "How can anyone be unaware of their own schedule? Is he a big boss man or something?"
Jisung stops sipping on his soda to ponder on the question. "I don't think so. I've seen the big bosses, and they're all wrinkly and snobby. Minho looks like a statue in a museum that one day became a real person and got himself a corporate job."
"That's a fairytale no child should grow up reading," says Jeongin. "Oh, snap, but I thought of a title just now. I don't want it to go to waste, so hear me out: Minhocchio."
"Please just eat your goddamn chicken."
"If he's an ordinary employee, then maybe he's busy with personal affairs," suggests Yongbok. "When I volunteered to take care of my sister's dog while she and her husband adjusted to their first baby, you guys hardly saw me outside of office hours for some months."
The other three men with him exchange glances.
"Your noggin's working hard today," remarks Jisung, impressed. "So what I'm dealing with is a hot dude who likely doesn't have time for me. I don't know if that should make me feel better or not."
"It's not that bad," says Seungmin nonchalantly. "Think of all the quickies you'll get to have with him."
MINHO
When his phone alarm goes off at five-thirty in the morning, Minho rolls over to press the stop button on the screen and spend a few seconds transitioning from sleep mode to awake mode. He then gets up, turns on the lamp sitting on the side table where his mobile is, and goes to the bathroom to unload his bladder before prepping for his workout. Splashing cold water on his face and brushing his teeth do the trick in fully waking him up.
At the hotel gym on the top floor, Minho warms up by walking on the treadmill long enough to get his heart rate up. Because it's Wednesday, he goes for exercises targeting his lower body. He lifts not quite close to failure so as not to strain himself since he'd been out drinking with his fellow executives and some new investors the previous night. Though he's no longer that susceptible to hangovers, he knows what his body's limits are the day after inebriation.
Following his cooldown is a protein-packed breakfast in his room. One of his first initiatives as vice chairman had been to change the company's policies on business trip expenditures. If employees, especially executives, were to go out of town, their accommodation would only be covered by the company if they chose non-suite options; otherwise, they'd have to pay out of pocket.
Expectedly, it hadn't been received well by the higher-ups at first, but when Minho had presented numbers to back his decision, all complaints had ceased.
He loves being right.
By seven, Minho is gracing the hotel lobby with his dignified presence and being greeted by Seongjin with a rundown of his agenda that day. He inwardly cringes when he hears the word 'forum' twice. If there's anything worse than listening to mostly men with overinflated egos in a meeting room, it's doing that but in a large hall and with quadruple the number of people.
"Cancel the dinner later with Chung-sajang," says Minho, referring to the president of the company, once he and his secretary are seated at the back of the car. "I can sense that whatever he has to say to me would be better off as an email. Or a text."
"Yes, buhwejangnim," says Seongjin, immediately taking note of it on his iPad mini. "What about Gye-jeonmu's request to talk about your assessment of her financial report? She has sent five follow-up emails regarding this, and I don't think she plans on stopping anytime soon."
Minho clicks his tongue in annoyance. "She's in Seoul, isn't she?"
"Yes, buhwejangnim."
"What does my Thursday morning look like?"
"Your only engagement tomorrow is the International Printing Expo at one, and our flight is at six. We'll be landing in Incheon on Friday morning."
"Email Gye-jeonmu and tell her we can have a Zoom call from seven to eight, no extensions."
"Yes, buhwejangnim."
The drive to the company's London headquarters would be silent if not for the sound of traffic outside the vehicle. Though he knows it won't be long until they arrive, Minho closes his eyes to rest them. He has a long day ahead of him, so he has to catch every moment of peace that he can.
But instead of a vision of tranquility embodied by a majestic lake surrounded by lush mountains against a clear, blue sky, he sees plump cheeks, a gummy smile, and a pair of sparkly eyes. Worse, his heartbeat quickens at Jisung's smooth voice reverberating in his head.
He decides to keep his eyes open and stare at cars, buildings, and people.
If Minho could describe his days with colors, this one would be every shade of swamp mud. He nods, half-smiles, bows, blinks, and small-talks his way through the hours just as he'd been trained to behave in formal gatherings during his schooling years. It's a good thing some speakers have interesting things to say—they help him stay awake in the forums—but the experience is tedious overall.
The clock labeled 'LONDON' at the hotel lobby reads eleven twenty-six when Minho returns. He's on autopilot mode at this point, so he gets ready for bed without fanfare. His sleep is equally unremarkable; dreams don't visit him when he's stressed or overworked.
"Buhwejangnim, we've given you copies of the official receipts for those transactions," says Ms. Gye, the chief financial officer, the next day on video call, "so the numbers are correct and—"
"There are several things unaccounted for," counters Minho, who's subtly eyeing the time on his phone.
"Could you specify them, buhwejangnim?"
"If I have to point them out, then what's the company paying you to do?" asks Minho. Panic rises on Ms. Gye's face. "Get your best people to work on this, and when you find the discrepancies at last, approach Seongjin-biseo personally to set an appointment with me. Neither of us is happy about your bordering-on-spam emails." He ignores Ms. Gye's fish-gaping act because he sees that it's already the end of their session.
"I'm glad we had this discussion," adds Minho without meaning the words, "but I have other things to attend to right now. Good day, Gye-jeonmunim." With a finger already hovering over his iPad, he ends the call at once and gives the device to his secretary. "If there isn't anything else, you may go, Seongjin-biseo."
Seongjin bows low and leaves the room, allowing Minho to remove the dress shirt he'd worn over his silk pajama top and call for room service.
While waiting for his food, he checks the time in South Korea; it's past five in the afternoon over there. Although he could send Jisung a message now that the workday is over, he doesn't want to get in the way of the other's commute home, so he passes the time with breakfast and a movie he's seen once before, You've Got Mail. He tries not to rely on the Korean subtitles that much to get some English listening practice in.
At ten thirty-three, Minho lowers the TV's volume, makes himself comfortable against the pillows, and opens the KakaoTalk app. He'd already saved Jisung's mobile number, so he copy-pastes it on the search bar.
The account attached to the number is user hannie_shalalala, which Minho thinks is adorable because of the song reference, but all other thoughts he might've had are wiped clean when he sees the profile photo. Because he hasn't scrolled through Jisung's entire Instagram, he hasn't checked out any of the older posts, which would've prepared him for the light-haired man he's gawking at. His reaction escalates when he clicks on the image to view it in full size.
Jisung is resting his left cheek on his left hand, and the fringe underneath his black beanie is golden blond. The shade suits him and makes him appear softer and more youthful than he already is.
Minho bites his lower lip on instinct. He's been his most disciplined self for days now because he's the type to concentrate on one major thing in his life at a time, but he'd be stupid to keep pushing Jisung to the back of his subconscious as though the man isn't already in every crevice of his mind. As a member of the Lee clan, he'd given up a life of simplicity to fulfill his duties despite being against most of the things his family stands for.
It's about time for him to do what he wants.
He's all set to type a message when the call screen pops up and indicates 'Father' as the caller. As a new vice chairman, he's still being monitored by the chairman to prevent costly mistakes early in his career, which means his father checks in on him and the company nearly every day. The calls are never scheduled, forcing Minho to be on his toes every waking hour.
You chose to bear this cross over another, he thinks as he presses Accept, and there's no going back.
JISUNG
Whoever said patience is a virtue had to have been a proponent of toxic positivity because all patience has done is make Jisung miserable and take a sledgehammer to his self-confidence's nutsack.
He's been patient about the Minho situation for more than a week, yet it seems he has to accept that he's been ghosted. It's also possible that Minho had been a figment of his imagination, the result of his body coping with work-related stress. That would explain the man's impossibly good looks—he doesn't exist.
With a mopey heart, he clocks out half an hour later than Yongbok due to overtime and takes the elevator with a mix of coworkers and strangers. He has his earphones on despite not listening to music to simultaneously discourage anyone from talking to him and stay wary of his surroundings. After all, anything can happen during rush hour.
The moment the doors open to the first floor, everyone walks out quietly. Jisung allows them to go ahead of him so he can minimize physical contact. His gaze shifts from the back of people's heads to the few individuals intending to ride the elevator, and he forgets to breathe when one of them grins upon recognizing him.
"Good evening, Jisung-ssi," greets Minho, who has ignored the elevator and has stepped to the side to face Jisung. Radiance covers him from head to toe even though it's the end of the workday. "How have you been?"
His mind racing and his earphones tugged off, Jisung stammers, "Good. Astounding. Just splendid and, um, uh…marvelous. Also maybe stupendous." Although he starts internally berating himself for morphing into a breathing thesaurus for no reason, the other doesn't look the least bit bothered.
"Excuse me for a moment," says Minho before whispering something to a man whom Jisung just notices is there on standby. The man leaves, allowing Minho to turn back to Jisung. "I take it you're on your way home?"
"That was the initial plan, but my time is just like me: flexible," answers Jisung with a smile, regaining his composure. "What about you? Shouldn't you be doing the same?"
"I might be here for another hour or so." Jisung doesn't respond because he senses that Minho isn't finished talking yet. "Would you like to take a stroll with me, maybe for ten minutes?"
Let's make it a two-day decathlon in every corner of my apartment. "Yeah. Sounds great."
Jisung suggests they go to a nearby street away from foot and car traffic. In spite of the skyscrapers towering over them on either side, the area has a peaceful atmosphere. The two men walk side by side with several inches between them.
"I came back from a business trip last Friday," explains Minho as though he's reading Jisung's mind, "and my weekend was filled with social engagements as well. The scant remaining hours were spent sleeping and playing with my cats. I hope the past week's gone better for you."
"Would you call going to and from home and work for five days and staying indoors for two 'better'?"
"Yes, infinitely," answers Minho. "I prefer that over whatever it is I have now."
"You're that busy, huh?"
Minho nods. "My time, ironically, isn't mine to spend as I please. At least not for a while." He gently kicks a pebble with his left foot, and in following its path with his eyes, Jisung gets an idea.
He stops walking and goes, "Have you had dinner yet?"
Minho also stays where he is. "I will when I get home."
"Okay, you need to fuel up before you get back to your office," says Jisung before shuffling backward without changing directions, beaming at and gesturing for Minho to follow him. Puzzled at first, Minho takes bigger strides to catch up. Jisung spins around to walk properly again and then points at a small structure in the distance. "We're going over there."
It's a stall selling different kinds of hotteok.
"I haven't tried these other variants before," comments Minho while looking at the tarpaulin bearing the name of the shop and their food items. "Which one do you recommend?"
"Personally, I love corn hotteok," replies Jisung, "but you should go for the pizza one since it's more filling."
"I'll have that, then," says Minho and then tugs at his suit jacket to retrieve his wallet.
However, Jisung stops him with, "Hey, no, I'm paying."
"But—"
"I brought you here on short notice, so the food's on me," insists Jisung. "Also, if you end up not liking the pizza hotteok, you'll feel less regretful 'coz you didn't pay for it." He gives their order and the exact payment in bills to the middle-aged woman running the stall.
Minho chuckles. "You have a way of convincing me to do things," he observes. "What do you do?"
"I'm a sales representative," answers Jisung with pride in his voice.
"That makes so much sense."
"And you? I'm thinking you're either middle or upper management."
"Yeah, I'm in management. Do I have a stuck-up vibe or…?"
"Oh God, no, it's not that," says Jisung quickly in case he'd inadvertently offended his companion. "It's your clothes. And your schedule. And your hair."
"My hair?" echoes Minho, covering his mouth as he giggles.
Jisung swoons in the metaphorical sense. "It's too glorious to belong to someone who isn't in a managerial position."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"As you should."
Minho pauses before speaking again. "I have to confess something."
Jisung gasps comically to hide how nerve-wracking those five words are to him. "Is it your undying love and devotion to li'l ol' me?"
"Not quite," says Minho, who grins when the other's wide smile dissipates because of his response. "I tried contacting you while I was on my trip, but work got in the way. What I wanted to confess is…I went ahead and looked you up on KaTalk using your number."
Relief washes over Jisung. "Uh, is my bio weird? I don't remember what I wrote there."
"Funnily enough, I don't remember your bio, either," goes Minho, looking a bit embarrassed, "because all my attention went to your profile photo."
"Oh." Jisung's stomach flutters at the admission. "I haven't changed that in two years, I think."
"Will you be dyeing your hair again anytime soon?"
"No, because my boss would chew my ear off. Management's strict with client-facing employees."
"Maybe you can get away with it on Halloween," suggests Minho with a sly smile.
"Don't give me ideas that might get me fired," says Jisung, chuckling but also wondering if he can pull off coming into work blond by declaring that he's dressed up as Draco Malfoy living in the Muggle world. Or a short-haired Regina George. Whichever's more believable.
Their food is served to them hot and folded in half inside paper cups. They park themselves at the side of the stall to prevent blocking the front area for other customers. It takes longer than usual for either of them to eat the pancakes because of their temperature, which they try to lower using their own methods. Minho opts to expose the filling first and blow on it, while Jisung takes baby bites and huffs and puffs to cool down each piece.
"I feel like you won't have a tongue anymore after this," snickers Minho as he watches Jisung struggle.
"I'll be fine," assures Jisung, pretending that the chunk he's just swallowed hasn't burned his throat. "I mean, the liver has the ability to regenerate."
"I'm afraid that doesn't apply to the tongue or any other body part, Jisung-ssi."
"We'll see about that." In the end, Jisung manages to finish the hotteok with his tongue intact, earning himself a gentle applause from the other man.
"Thank you for this," says Minho after they've thrown their cups in the trash can standing at the opposite side of the stall. "I needed a break from pretty much my entire life."
"Happy to help," returns Jisung. "You have my number if you need another one."
Pulling out and unlocking his phone, Minho goes, "Speaking of numbers, it was rude of me not to have given you mine." After a second of holding the device to his ear, Jisung's phone buzzes once in his pocket, and then Minho ends the call. "You can chat me up anytime. I may not be able to respond quickly, but my friends have told me I'm better at replying to messages than initiating conversations, so I won't leave you hanging for sure."
"Is this your cat?" asks Jisung, pointing at Minho's KakaoTalk profile picture.
"Yes," answers Minho, whose expression brightens further. "His name's Soonie. I have two others: Doongie and Dori."
"He's really pretty," coos Jisung with his eyes on the photo, "like his human." When he looks up, he's delighted to see Minho trying (and failing) not to appear flustered. "We have a family dog named Bbama, but he's at my parents' house since they don't trust me to take care of him because they think I can't even take care of myself, which is false."
"I have a solution to that."
"Oh? Pray tell, kind sir."
"I'll take care of you," says Minho and laughs when Jisung's mouth hangs open. "Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you're being teased?"
"No, and don't start," huffs Jisung.
"Why not?"
"I'm not yet ready to tie the knot."
There's silence between them for a second, and then they're laughing in unison. More than the way happiness looks good on Minho, it's the effortlessness of their back-and-forth that has Jisung doing a double take. Though he's been in similar situations, he's never found flirting less than overwhelming, which is why he's bad at it—or he used to think he was because Minho's receptiveness to his advances proves the opposite. Has he simply been going after the wrong people all this time?
"Shoot," says Minho while looking at his wristwatch. "That's ten minutes." The disappointment in his eyes is overshadowed by the kindness in his smile. "How are you getting home? By subway?"
"Bus," answers Jisung. "I live pretty close."
"I'll keep that in mind," smirks Minho, who apparently isn't done being a minx. "I'll walk you to the stop."
"You don't have to. You should hurry back to your office."
"I want to," returns Minho, resolute. "I've chosen work over everything for days. I'm choosing you now."
"So this is what Pokémon feel," says Jisung, triggering Minho's laughter again.
On their way to the bus stop, they step back from teasing and opt to point out and talk about random things they see, such as a puppy playing with three kittens in the bushes, the colorful graffiti wall next to an outdoor parking lot, and a couple of restaurants they recommend to one another. Their wide smiles and open body language could deceive anyone into thinking they're long-time friends.
"And this is where we part," declares Jisung the moment they arrive at the bus shelter. "Thanks for walking me here."
"Wednesday," says Minho.
Jisung raises his eyebrows. "Wednesday?"
"Let's do the tour then," clarifies Minho, "We can have it when we're both done with work. I'll be away tomorrow, but I wanna see you again as soon as I'm able to. Would that be alright with you?"
If Jisung's heartbeat speeds up by leaps and bounds, he doesn't let it show on his face save for a grin. "Yeah, cool. I'll be there."
"You better be," says Minho, his softer tone and gaze weakening Jisung's knees. Before Jisung can react, he lifts his right hand to brush away a strand of hair from Jisung's face. "Take care now."
Once Minho has turned around and walked in the other direction, Jisung momentarily allows his expression to match what he's feeling, but he quickly replaces it with a standard smile when Minho looks back to wave at him one last time.
"Fuck," says Jisung under his breath, smiling through the sheer adoration for Minho drenching every part of him. "I'm so fucked."
MINHO
"Good morning, buhwejangnim" is the greeting of every person Minho passes by as he walks to the area designated for him, with Seongjin trailing behind him as usual. They're in front of the entrance to a large commercial printing facility in the outskirts of Seoul. After a tough negotiation wherein the original owner had been adamant about lowering his asking price, the deal to acquire the establishment had pushed through, and the renovations began soon after.
Having practiced for a couple of days, Minho delivers his welcoming speech behind a podium without needing to look at the printed copy he has. He'd insisted on writing and proofreading it himself instead of turning to one of the executive writers knowing it would help improve his communication skills, which are a must for members of the C-suite. As the least experienced executive in the conglomerate, he has a lot to prove.
Minho ends with, "We will now move on to the ribbon-cutting to officially open the sixteenth LJS Printing facility," before joining the line of executives already holding the ribbon. On the count of three, each of them uses a pair of scissors to cut the satin material, and the moment is captured by several photographers from the company and the media.
"This way, buhwejangnim," says Mr. Shin, the newly appointed factory manager, as he leads Minho and the rest of the team inside. They are given a tour of the place, from the main floor where the industrial printers and cutting machines are to the individual offices and meeting rooms to the garage where a fleet of trucks is parked. The employees they chance upon bow to the group, and Minho takes it upon himself to make small talk with team leaders since it's their first time meeting one another.
"Hyunjin will be picking me up for lunch," Minho informs Seongjin a few minutes prior to the midday break. "You can take the car with Joonwoo-ssi and eat wherever you like. Use the company card."
"Thank you, buhwejangnim," says Seongjin. "Shall I confirm dinner tonight with your mother?"
Minho curses in his head; he'd forgotten about that rendezvous. "Yes, please."
"I can wager a guess as to what she's gonna tell you," goes Hyunjin later on once he and Minho are both seated in his white Lexus. "It rhymes with 'hairy a woman.'"
"Number one," starts Minho, "you should be banned from rhyming, and number two, why don't you shut up?"
"Her steadfast refusal to acknowledge your homosexuality is, honest to God, awe-inspiring," continues Hyunjin, pretending not to have heard his friend. "She's met, what, five of your very male exes?"
"Six," corrects Minho. "Yeongsoo may have been a fling, but she caught us making out in the pool."
Hyunjin smirks at the memory. "Maybe she'll understand that you're a lost case when it comes to straightness if you let her know you've bottomed more times than you've topped."
"...Is that in your stupid tea calendar?"
"A better question would be: what's not in my brilliant tea calendar?"
Minho uses his eyes to convey his irritation with Hyunjin that he can't express verbally. "If she brings up hetero marriage again, I'll tell her I can't stand the smell of pussy while she's eating."
"I've always been curious about that," admits Hyunjin as he rounds a corner. "A lot of men keep joking that it's fishy, but I've heard that that's not a sign of a healthy vagina. How about taking one for the team and going down on one woman to find out?"
"You're brave for someone who has to keep his hands on the wheel."
"If I die, you will, too," warns Hyunjin, sounding confident that no harm will come to him.
But Minho says, "That's a risk I'm willing to take if it means I can hurt you."
"I swear, hyung, you sound too much like a serial killer sometimes."
They head for a Mexican restaurant they'd tried once and liked, though neither is sure about its authenticity. Hyunjin orders molletes and a wedge salad, while Minho gets a pulled pork burrito bowl and a slice of tres leches cake.
"What's the update on that four-bedroom condo you're trying to sell?" asks Minho after his first spoonful of food. "Are you about to celebrate its first monthsary?"
"The most recent prospective buyer backed out," answers Hyunjin with an annoyed face. "He suddenly decided he hated the wraparound terrace. Indecisive fucker."
"I guess you'll have to keep relying on your thirty-three premium rental properties to survive," teases Minho, leaning back to avoid Hyunjin's attempt at hitting his arm. "You really don't want me to ask my older brother for help?"
"Christ, no!" barks Hyunjin with a deep frown.
An all-knowing smile similar to that of the Cheshire Cat's forms on Minho's lips. "Is it because he found out you were infatuated with him back then?"
"Zip it!" hisses Hyunjin, lowering the volume of his voice in order to not make a racket. "I didn't like him long enough for that to be considered a significant event in my life. Don't dig it back up."
"You drooled over him whenever he did laps in the pool." Minho is out of his seat laughing before Hyunjin can reach over to maybe strangle him. "Man, those were the days." He sits back down with tears in his eyes and his companion still glaring at him. "Weren't you ever interested in me?"
"Eew, never!" Hyunjin makes gagging noises to prove his point. "You tryna make me lose my lunch?!"
Minho shrugs, determined to mess with the other. "We share half of our genes, so it's only logical for you to be attracted to me as well."
"You're insane if you think I'd fancy people with homicidal tendencies."
"I'm an angel," protests Minho.
"Yeah," agrees Hyunjin while loading his fork with salad. "So was Lucifer, and look how he turned out."
"Please. I could run hell better than him."
"And that's why I prefer Taegeunie-hyung over you."
Minho scoffs at the dismissal and says, "Whatever. I have Han Jisung anyway."
Hyunjin hurriedly swallows the greens in his mouth to ask, "Did you ask him out yet?"
"No, but after he bought me hotteok, I told him I'm available tomorrow for the office tour."
"Hotteok? When did that happen?"
"Yesterday when we saw each other at the elevator," replies Minho. "We took a short walk, I explained where I'd been, and he treated me to food. I also gave him my number, which he used to say goodnight."
"I want someone to say goodnight to me, too," whines Hyunjin, pouting over his plate. "Not fair."
"Doesn't Changbin do that already?"
Hyunjin pulls a face in response. "I can't stand aegyo for the life of me, and that man has a lot of it," he reasons. "Hook me up with someone more serious, won't you?"
"I've hooked you up with plenty of single men, and you haven't held on to any of them," says Minho, recalling how meticulous he'd been about screening individuals to push his friend's way. "It's obviously a you problem now."
"For your information, they were all promiscuous, and loyalty is a big thing for me," complains Hyunjin. "Jisung looks like a monogamist, though," he adds, snickering. "Could you introduce us?"
"I could introduce you to the bottom of my foot."
"Psh. You're not even dating, so you can't be territorial with him just yet."
"Watch me." Just then, Minho's phone notifies him of a KakaoTalk message. The name he sees on the screen makes him smile. "Hold on, my man just texted."
"There's still time for him to be my man," says Hyunjin confidently.
"Pray I'll let you live long enough to finish your meal," threatens Minho prior to reading Jisung's chat and allowing Hyunjin to ponder on his remaining time on Earth.
hannie_shalalala: hope your lunch is as yummy as this~
The photo Jisung has sent is of him grinning while holding up a bowl of noodles. Minho wants to crawl inside his phone and gobble him up, but because that's impossible, he takes a quick selfie with his food that he attaches to his message.
ehlomein: not as yummy as I'm sure you are but it'll have to do
hannie_shalalala: [blushing bunny sticker]
hannie_shalalala: are you planning on testing out that theory soon? [blushing while laughing emoji]
ehlomein: that can be arranged. tomorrow after the tour?
hannie_shalalala: [shocked duck emoji] [shocked duck emoji] [shocked duck emoji]
hannie_shalalala: my noodles went down the wrong pipe coz of you [crying emoji]
ehlomein: …………….
ehlomein: are you hinting at your……..
ehlomein: gag reflex?
hannie_shalalala: [defeated cat sticker]
hannie_shalalala: is that a deal-breaker? [teary-eyed sad emoji]
"Your face tells me you're sexting," interrupts Hyunjin, "and that's gross to do in the presence of company."
"Go send nudes to Taegeun-hyung if you're jealous," returns Minho, helping himself to dessert. "He's been taking boxing lessons lately, you know."
Hyunjin's eyes widen at the new information. "Really?"
"Yeah. Check his IG." Seeing that his friend has become distracted at last, Minho returns to Jisung.
ehlomein: not at all. it just means i have to be extra gentle
hannie_shalalala: [alarmed bunny sticker]
hannie_shalalala: my friends are laughing at my reactions to your texts
ehlomein: you work together?
hannie_shalalala: one of them is my colleague, wait a sec i'll take a photo of them
Minho sees three people in the picture: one with freckles sitting beside another wearing glasses and a smiley person next to Jisung. All of them are doing quite well in the looks department.
"Hyunjin-ah, check this out," says Minho, turning his phone toward the other. "Maybe one of Jisung's friends is your type."
Hyunjin can't help but wolf-whistle as he scans every pixel in the image. "Okay, I wanna know where he hangs out 'coz he has gorgeous friends." He points at the man with specs on. "Ask him what this four-eyed hottie's name is."
"'Four-eyed' is offensive," reminds Minho and begins typing.
"If he's offended, I'll accept being fucked as my punishment."
ehlomein: i'm also with a friend and he wants to know the name of the "four-eyed hottie," his words not mine
hannie_shalalala: that's seungmin [XD emoji]
hannie_shalalala: seungminie wants to know what your friend looks like
Minho sends a candid photo of Hyunjin sipping a boba drink saved on his phone. "His name's Seungmin."
"Seungmin… Seungmin…" says Hyunjin, seemingly testing out how the name sounds. "Yeah, I can see myself screaming that in bed.
"My god, keep it in your panties," warns Minho sharply.
hannie_shalalala: [shocked duck emoji] shiver me timbers he doesn't look real!!
ehlomein: he's as handsome as he is idiotic
hannie_shalalala: i can work with that -seungmin
ehlomein: his number's 01055574582
hannie_shalalala: thanks, mine's 01047992039 -seungmin
Minho long-presses Seungmin's second message and shares it with Hyunjin, who squeals and squirms happily at the other side of the table.
hannie_shalalala: did we just play cupid? [amazed emoji]
ehlomein: i believe so
ehlomein: hyunjinie doesn't beat around the bush so he and seungmin will either be going on a date or boning by today at the earliest
hannie_shalalala: [scandalized bunny sticker]
hannie_shalalala: you don't think that's too fast?
ehlomein: it's madness
hannie_shalalala: good to know we're on the same page [sparkly-eyed cat emoji] i got worried there for a second and thought about calling the office tour our first date
Minho covers his mouth with one hand because he senses a goofy smile coming on. He lets it pass before working on his reply.
ehlomein: i wouldn't mind that. if anything it'll be a unique first date
hannie_shalalala: [shy dinosaur hiding behind a wall sticker]
hannie_shalalala: surprise request but are you free to take my call right now?
"Where are you going?" asks Hyunjin when Minho stands up and starts walking toward the door.
"I'll be quick," says Minho while typing. He stops around a meter away from the entrance.
ehlomein: yup i am. are you gonna call me 'coz you miss my voice?
hannie_shalalala: [happy duck emoji]
Despite his excitement, Minho waits for three rings before he picks up the phone because he believes in practicing self-control during the seduction phase. He wouldn't be caught dead showing how gone he is for someone. "Hello?"
"Minho-ssi?" asks Jisung, his voice even deeper than in real life.
"This is he," confirms Minho. "Wait, how old are you?"
"I'm twenty-six. What about you?"
"I'm twenty-eight," Minho is pleased that they're close in age since he's often a magnet for men at least either five years his junior or five years his senior.
"So I should call you 'hyung,'" says Jisung. "To be honest, I thought you were younger than me."
"Is it because of my vernal visage?" asks Minho, batting his eyelashes for effect even though the other can't see him.
"It was more because you played along with the whole tour thing," answers Jisung in an apologetic tone. "It's not exactly the most mature way to hit on someone, right?"
Minho pauses. "You're saying you're giving me a backhanded compliment."
"I figured you'd take it well."
The suggestive statement and the raspiness in Jisung's voice make Minho feel as though he's being undressed over the phone. He clears his throat and says, "Oh, I can take it, alright. I can take it over and over again, that is, if you have the stamina for it."
"I've been told I last long when giving…compliments."
Minho allows himself a chuckle. "Did you call me to talk bedroom statistics?"
"No," answers Jisung, and it sounds like he's smiling. "I called to ask you out the proper way. I think chatting's too casual for that sort of thing."
"Go ahead. I'm getting impatient," jests Minho.
"Minho-hyung," begins Jisung, who adds sugar to every syllable, "would you care to join me in a romantic exploration of our office building's hidden gems and then a maybe-but-not-likely candlelit dinner afterward?"
If Minho had longer hair, he'd be twirling it in his fingers while swaying to an imaginary love song playing, but as such, he keeps his free hand pocketed, stays still, and says, "That sounds divine. I'd love to explore you—I mean the facilities—and end the day with a make-out session—I mean a nice meal."
"You're incorrigible," giggles Jisung. "It's settled, then. If you change your mind—"
"Not possible. I'll move heaven and earth to be there."
"That's heartwarming but absolutely unnecessary. It's not nice to cause earthquakes and frighten people." In the background, Minho hears the sound of a door being pulled open. Jisung must've gone outside as well. "I'll go now so you can enjoy your lunch."
"On the contrary, I've enjoyed it because of you," says Minho, who also reenters the restaurant and is greeted by a smirking Hyunjin. "Goodbye for now, Jisung-ah."
"Goodbye, Minho-hyung."
Minho reoccupies his chair like he'd just returned from the bathroom, no big deal. He keeps his focus on his food even as Hyunjin leans forward and whispers, "I trust you remembered to use protection during the hardcore phone sex you had."
"Yeah, but the condom broke. I'm now four months pregnant with twins."
Hyunjin puts on the most exaggerated look of astonishment. "Huzzah!" he rejoices, throwing his arms up in the air. "I'm gonna be an uncle!"
JISUNG
On ordinary days, Jisung's morning routine is quick and simple, so he's out the door in thirty minutes or less and has a lot of time to line up at his favorite food truck that sells breakfast items, which he eats in the office pantry. While doing so, he watches whatever news channel is playing on the widescreen TV. It's his way of updating himself on current events.
On the day of his office tour with Minho, however, he wakes up dreading what he should wear because he can't don his usual date outfits at work. He lays out his few options on the bed and is dismayed at the lack of bright colors and variety in clothing types. Business casual isn't his cup of tea at all.
He's looking for accessories to jazz up his attire when his belts catch his eye. Though he hasn't tried it before, an idea that may just work comes to him. He gives it a go after taking a lukewarm shower, inspects the look in front of a full-length mirror, and congratulates himself for being so brilliant.
But his celebration is cut short the moment Jisung realizes what time it is. He hurriedly adjusts his clothes to be appropriate for work and puts everything else back where they belong. If he puts off this task, he knows he'll be too lazy to do it when he gets home at night.
Although he does what he can to be swift, the line at the food truck upon his arrival there is already longer than he's used to. He calculates that he'll be five minutes late for work if he joins the queue now. Pouting, he starts walking past the other office workers, but a voice stops him in his tracks.
"Jisung-ah! I have your breakfast here!" It's Mr. Kang, the owner and main cook of the food truck.
Jisung can't believe his luck as he approaches the parked vehicle. "Thank you so much, Joonwoo-ssi," he says, handing the payment to the older man and picking up the brown paper bag containing his egg sandwich along with a paper cup of coffee. "I was ready to go hungry until lunchtime."
"I won't let that happen to any of my regulars while I'm still in business," says Mr. Kang with a smile. "Run along now so your boss won't scold you."
"Ah, that's right!" squeaks Jisung. He's shared many stories about their team leader, Mr. Yoon, and the stick chronically up his ass. "Have a good day, Boseong-ssi!" Fortunately, Jisung's workplace is just around the corner, so it takes him a mere eleven minutes to ride the elevator, clock in, place his body bag in his locker, and walk to his desk. "G'morning, Yongbok," he greets once he's close enough for his friend to hear him.
"Morning," chirps Yongbok, who is in the process of booting up his computer. He swivels his chair to fully face Jisung. "Whoa, did you do something new to your hair?"
"I blow-dried it and tucked the bangs a bit on this side," says Jisung. "Is it okay?"
"You look so good," comments Yongbok. "Oh, wait, is that for your thing later?" When Jisung nods, Yongbok's entire face lights up even more. "My Jisungie, you're all grown up."
"Whatever," grins Jisung, "but thanks. I can't afford to look like a garbage bag next to Minho-hyung."
"Don't be too hard on yourself," says Yongbok. "You're a luxury garbage bag. Think Balenciaga's Trash Pouch worth like ₩2,000,000."
The workday goes along as it should, which would be a positive thing if only Jisung wasn't overly distracted from start to finish. As someone who doesn't put much effort into seeking out dates, he ponders on how ideal the circumstances had been for him and Minho to be where they currently stand in each other's lives. He'd been bold enough that day to chat up a total stranger, and that stranger had been attuned to his odd antics. It's not often that the right people meet at the right place and time, but Jisung can proudly say that about the two of them.
He pinches himself to determine whether he's dreaming it all.
It hurts.
"Jisung-ssi, are you still with us?" asks Mr. Yoon, popping Jisung's Minho-filled thought bubble.
"Yes, timjangnim. You were discussing the projected downtrend in sales in the next two months and the countermeasures we can take to minimize it."
Mr. Yoon narrows his eyes, probably suspicious of Jisung's attentiveness and straight face, but he lets it go and continues talking and pointing at the chart on the projector screen.
"Thanks, man," says Jisung without moving his mouth much to avoid detection, sliding Yongbok's notebook on the conference table back to its grinning owner. "Really glad your handwriting is legible."
"Pay attention," Yongbok whispers back. "You can daydream about Minho-hyung after this."
And daydream Jisung does once he's sitting at his desk again. He's supposed to be working on a proposal for another sought-after client, but the words and calculations he's looking at keep getting jumbled up to create a mosaic-ish image of Minho. Jisung thinks it's mental that a gene lottery jackpot winner is interested in him, a seven out of ten by default and maybe an eight and a half on special occasions. Even if he's been with a couple of lookers before, they were far from Minho's level, and they hadn't vibed with him like Minho has.
"Look at what you just typed, bro," snickers Yongbok out of nowhere.
Jisung sees 'Minho' on his screen.
He's down bad.
"Looks like someone's out to reel in one heck of a fish," remarks Seungmin when Jisung and Yongbok join them for lunch at a burger joint. Everyone's food is already on the table since the latter had texted the former what they wanted. "You should go on dates more often so you'll be easier on the eyes, Jisung-ah."
"Take off your one-inch-thick glasses if you don't wanna see me, you buffoon," returns Jisung, unbothered.
"Teach me how to style my hair like that, hyung," says Jeongin after popping a fry in his mouth. "I really like your inner shirt, too. Where'd you get it?"
"Fifth floor of the Lotte Department Store," answers Jisung. "They have a nice selection there." He takes a big bite of his chicken burger and a sip of Fanta.
"It's true," says Yongbok. "I recommend the women's section as well."
"Ah, I don't have the courage to look at women's clothes on my own," goes Jeongin. "Yongbokie-hyung, could you accompany me there sometime?"
"'Course," answers Yongbok, flashing the other a smile. "You'll love it."
"Are you aiming for some bow chicka wow wow tonight?" Seungmin asks Jisung, who frowns at him.
"I'm not gonna respond to 'bow chicka wow wow,'" says Jisung. "Use proper terms."
"Okay, you're right. Since he's busy, it makes sense for it to be 'wham bam thank you ma'am.'"
Although Jisung isn't amused, Jeongin and Yongbok are cackling together. "It's a weeknight."
"What are you, a kid with a bedtime?" mocks Seungmin.
"I'm not like you who thinks about boarding the beef bus 24/7," counters Jisung, coaxing more laughter out of their other two friends.
"I enjoy sex, and I'm not afraid to say so. You three, on the other hand, act like you're the Holy Virgitrinity."
"Hey, why're you beefing with us?" demands Yongbok. "We're innocent bystanders!"
Akin to a blessing dropped from the heavens, a keen observation reaches Jisung all of a sudden. "Ya, you think you're so smart, don't you?"
Seungmin's playful expression melts off. "What?"
"You weren't planning on telling us, but you were balls deep in Hyunjin last night, weren't you?!"
Yongbok's and Jeongin's mouths drop at the wild accusation. They turn their heads to Seungmin, whose face would be unreadable if not for the pink hue in his cheeks.
Jisung sits back and smugly crosses his arms over his chest. He knows he's won. "I knew it. Once a horndog who had his sexual awakening in college, always a horndog." Seungmin doesn't say anything, so Jisung continues. "Was it a one-night stand?"
Yongbok munches on a cream cheese ball as he waits for the answer.
Seconds tick by before Seungmin responds. "I don't know. We haven't talked since he went home."
"I doubt you did much talking," mumbles Jeongin and winces when Seungmin slaps his forearm.
"Why didn't you wanna share it with us?" asks Yongbok in a near pout. "We tell you everything."
Seungmin sighs, putting his drink down. "It's just… I guess I was embarrassed," he admits. "I don't wanna sleep around anymore, and going through two celibate months made me think I was on my way to solving my commitment issues, but then I folded just because a man singled me out of a photo."
"There, there," says Jisung as he places an arm around Seungmin's shoulders. "We love you for who you are, slut or not." He chuckles at the other shrugging him off and pushing him away.
"Maybe you should reach out to him, hyung," says Jeongin. "He already made the first move, so it's your turn to keep the ball rolling. If you want to go from casual to serious, you have to do a bit of chasing. Long-term relationships aren't meant to be one-sided."
The three older men look at Jeongin like he'd grown a second head.
Jisung breaks the silence. "I was about to come up with a joke, but I remembered that among the four of us, you're the only one who's broken the two-year relationship curse."
"We broke up before our second anniversary came around," comments Jeongin, unimpressed with his own achievement.
"Still counts," says Yongbok. "You may be the youngest, but you're the best romantic partner here."
"Heed his words, Seungmin-ah," orders Jisung, picking up a cheese stick from their shared sides, "and you'll have a boyfriend in no time."
"I can tell that's where you and Minho-hyung are headed," says Seungmin. "You're too into each other not to end up together. It makes my stomach turn, but I support it."
"I hope Hyunjin-ssi isn't into sweet men 'coz if you were coffee, you'd be a raw bean."
MINHO
Two consecutive knocks on the door slice through Minho's thoughts.
"Come in," he says without moving from where he's standing in front of the dark Prussian blue glass wall behind his white desk. With its reflective surface, it doubles as an oversized mirror. "Seongjin-biseo, please come closer. I need your opinion."
Seongjin complies, stopping two feet away. If he's surprised by what he sees next, he doesn't show it.
Minho turns around with one arm in one suit jacket and the other in a different sleeve. "Which one do you think looks better?"
"For what occasion, buhwejangnim?" asks Seongjin, sounding unsure.
"A first date."
"Ah." Seongjin carefully considers both options prior to answering. "Black is classic, but the copper one will make you stand out from the crowd and keep your date's eyes on you."
"Hmm, yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Minho removes the black jacket to put on the unanimous winner of the mini fashion battle and checks himself in the mirror again. Satisfied, he slips out of the clothing and uses the other one instead because he plans on changing his clothes later. "By the way, I won't need the car in the evening. I'm not sure what time I'll be done, but I'll find a way to get home. Tell Joonwoo-ssi he's dismissed for today; I won't be leaving the office for lunch."
"Would you like me to make a reservation somewhere for you and your date?"
"No. I think we'll wing it," says Minho, sitting on his black executive chair. "And before I forget, reject all new same-day appointments after three. I don't intend to stay beyond five. You can go home on the dot as well."
"Understood, buhwejangnim."
"You may leave now. Thank you, Seongjin." Alone once more, Minho gets to work on clearing his email inbox, reading and approving reports, and preparing a presentation for the board of directors concerning two prospective acquisitions in Japan. The reins to LJS had been handed to him in the midst of a conglomerate-wide global expansion, so there are deals left and right for him to attend to. Even if he wants to go at a slower pace while he adapts to his new role, his family members and the shareholders would not allow it.
"They already know about your…deviant lifestyle," his mother had told him sternly weeks before the official turnover. "Don't give them another reason to think you're a mere pawn on the chessboard."
"Funny that that's your example," Minho had said. "A pawn can become a queen. Like me."
"I don't appreciate crass humor," his mother had warned. "Your father and I have dedicated our lives to maintaining your grandfather's legacy. Without it, you wouldn't have had all the opportunities you've been given since you were a child. The least you can do to repay us is to look after everything we've worked hard for. Your brother's done enough damage to this family as it is."
You gave him the name Taegeun, yet you can't even say it, thinks Minho. He used to wonder if there's a minuscule chance for his brother to reunite with the Lee clan, but when he recalled how vile all their relatives are, he wished for it never to happen.
Minho had set his lunch alarm for eleven so he could avoid the crowd at the LJS cafeteria, which takes up half of the twenty-second floor. As expected, only a handful of employees are there at that hour. He fills up a tray, pays at the counter (where the staff recognize and bow to him), and chooses a four-seater table far from the entrance for maximum privacy.
Since he makes it a point before going to bed to turn off notifications for non-work apps, lunch is the earliest time he can catch up on social media. He checks KakaoTalk before anything else. At the top of his chat list is a group chat named 'Aussielocks and the Three Gays,' the next is his private chat with Hyunjin, but he ignores both and clicks on the third one.
hannie_shalalala: good morning! the day just started but already i want it to end [blushing emoji]
ehlomein: good afternoon! good things come to those who wait
Aware that Jisung is working and might not be able to reply quickly, Minho checks Hyunjin's messages.
jinnie_in_a_bottle: hyung thank jisung for me will ya? [winking emoji]
ehlomein: cheetahs may be the fastest animals to run but you're the fastest animal to bed someone
jinnie_in_a_bottle: you know it babe
ehlomein: yuck don't call me babe
ehlomein: are you gonna start dating him?
jinnie_in_a_bottle: it depends if he'll call/text me, i'm tired of initiating everything
ehlomein: have you told changbin?
jinnie_in_a_bottle: you're the only one who knows about seungmin
ehlomein: why? you don't wanna hurt changbin's feelings?
jinnie_in_a_bottle: shut up, he already knows i'm not into him [rolling eyes emoji]
ehlomein: i dunno… i see how he looks at you and it's kinda…………
jinnie_in_a_bottle: i'm turning my phone off b y e
Sure enough, when Minho switches to their group chat, Chan and Changbin are talking about a newly opened gym that's easily accessible to all four of them (binthere_donethat: @jinnie_in_a_bottle they have pilates classes [heart hand emoji]). He joins the discussion (ehlomein: did they buy that many treadmills so changbin can't ignore them anymore?) but doesn't talk about Hyunjin's tryst because even though he's mischievous toward his friends, he respects their privacy and would never do anything they seriously don't want him to.
notjackiechan97: good luck on your date later, minho-yaaaa [in-love emoji]
binthere_donethat: jisung seems like a cool dude so if you screw up we'll unfriend you and befriend him
ehlomein: i'm giving you another chance to come up with a better threat
binthere_donethat: [sweating duck sticker]
notjackiechan97: [replying to binthere_donethat: [sweating duck sticker]] how about if minho screws up you'll tell jisung about the roller coaster incident?
Minho has to bite down on this tongue so he won't scream in the cafeteria.
ehlomein: what
ehlomein: the fucking fuckity
ehlomein: f u c k did you say, hyung?
binthere_donethat: yoooooo looks like we finally hit a nerve channie-hyung good job !!!!!
notjackiechan97: do i have to change my identity now?
ehlomein: try writing your obituary
binthere_donethat: [popcorn emoji] so this is what it feels like to not be minho-hyung's target
ehlomein: if you're smart you'll pack your bags too instigator
Minho's lunch lasts just twenty-eight minutes thanks to his eating speed and Jisung's busyness, and the remainder of his work hours goes by smoothly. Some have called him a man of unwavering focus, but the truth is that he'd learned to compartmentalize years ago. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to stand living with his family, save for his older brother. Now, the skill enables him to finish his work free from distracting thoughts of a certain someone who turns his knees into jelly.
So he can be at the Punching Bag on time, Minho stops working twenty minutes to five in order to wash his face, brush his teeth, fix his hair, put on mismatched gold earrings, and wear the two-piece copper suit he'd put away in the closet in his private bathroom. A part of him thinks the look may be overdone in proportion to the activity he's about to do, but he's not one to half-ass anything, especially not when it comes to romance.
Minho is shutting down his computer when Seongjin drops by with his leather bag in hand. "Buhwejangnim, is there anything you'd like me to do before I go?"
"No, Seongjin-biseo," answers Minho. "Have a good evening."
"Thank you," says Seongjin. "I hope your first date goes well, buhwejangnim."
Minho makes eye contact with Seongjin and smiles at him. "That's kind of you to say," he returns. "Thank you. If you don't mind me asking, are you anywhere near the dating scene as well?"
Seongjin shakes his head. "I dated enough in college, and this is my first job, so it's my priority."
"What an admirable attitude. Let me know in December if you still feel that way or if you're ready to throw me and all the executives into a pool filled with hungry sharks."
"I don't think sharks like aged meat that much."
Being that their exchanges have been formal up to this point, Minho's eyebrows turn into saucers at the rather rude statement, but Minho being Minho, he finds it hilarious and laughs with Seongjin. "You have my permission to keep talking about them like that when it's just us," he says amusedly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Seongjin-biseo."
There are three elevators for Minho to select from, and he takes the one that arrives last. It's a shoulder-to-shoulder situation, and the color of his attire indeed pops out among all the muted hues, but thank goodness he only has to go down two floors. Like before, there are no people in the area, so it's not a problem for him to sit on the couch and wait for Jisung.
He has a mind to text him, but at the sound of the stairwell door unlocking, he sees a sleeved arm and its hand beckoning him closer.
"Are you really gonna make me walk over there?" asks Minho, smiling. His voice is amplified by the emptiness of the area.
"We'll be doing a lot of walking today," says Jisung from behind the door. "We can just cancel if you're not up for it."
"You're not getting rid of me that easily." Minho takes big strides to close the distance faster, the leather satchel around his body bouncing against his hip, anticipation building in his body. The arm is pulled back once he's there to keep the door open, and when he enters the space, his date is immediately in his line of sight…and causing his brain to short-circuit.
Jisung is in a black ensemble—a buttoned-up collarless shirt, a blazer without a lapel, and slim-fit slacks—but what makes it extra special is the belt: it's tied tight outside the blazer, emphasizing the man's unbelievably narrow waist.
Minho doesn't fucking know what to do with himself.
"Holy shit, you're stunning," blurts out Jisung as he looks at the other from head to toe.
"Enough about me." Minho wastes no time in trapping Jisung, who can only gasp, between himself and the wall. He cocks his head to one side and slowly runs his right forefinger along the belt. "Why have you been keeping this from me, Jisung-ah?" Seeing the glorious shape of Jisung's body this close is making him dizzy, but he does his best to appear put together.
Jisung gulps. "This kind of outfit isn't office-appropriate," he explains in a soft voice that makes things a lot worse for Minho. "If we'd met outside the workplace, you would've seen me like this sooner."
"Our next date will be somewhere else, then."
"We haven't started the first one, but you're already planning the second date?" giggles Jisung.
"You wanna include everything all the way up to our golden wedding anniversary?" asks Minho, the question making them chuckle together.
"You're ruthless."
"That's the kindest adjective anyone's used for me."
"Wouldn't it—" The question dies on Jisung's tongue as the emptiness of his stomach manifests itself in the form of a sound that's amplified in the emptiness of the stairwell. There's mild shock in his eyes and perhaps a bit of embarrassment as well, but Minho smiles to ease his discomfort.
"Should we have dinner first, Jisung-ah?"
"No, no," protests Jisung. "The janitors will be making their rounds soon, and they don't like seeing people from other floors in the bathrooms I'm gonna show you, so we have to beat them to the punch."
"How would they know which floor we came from?"
"That's their superpower. Like how turtles know on which beach they should lay their eggs."
"This feels illegal somehow," comments Minho. "I like it." He takes a step back to give the other some space, and then a light bulb goes off in his head. "Hey, the Punching Bag's just over there. We can walk around with snacks so you won't die in the middle of the tour."
"I'm not so weak that I'll die," pouts Jisung ever so cutely, already opening the door, "but maybe I'll collapse a bit."
"I can revive you 'coz I know mouth-to-mouth," says Minho in a whisper. He grins at the combo of a blush and a frown that appears on the other's face as a reaction.
Once they're at the vending machine, Jisung unzips his body bag, but Minho stops him before he can take out his wallet.
"You paid for the hotteok last time," Minho reminds him. "Equality is important in relationships."
Instead of a counterstatement, Jisung plays along. "You're right. Please buy me some Oksusukkang, jagi."
The term of endearment, though said half-jokingly, prompts Minho to pause and talk himself out of pouncing on the other right then and there. He keeps his eyes trained on the junk food knowing that if he doesn't, his resolve would be broken. "Your wish is my command, princess." Jisung lets out what can only be described as a soft squeak in response, which satisfies Minho to no end.
"Which one are you getting?" asks Jisung.
"The hot Cheetos seems to be calling out to me." Should Minho go for the Flamin' Hot variant or the XXXtra Flamin' Hot?
"I can only eat maybe four spicy Cheetos before I have to reach for milk. I'm a weakling."
Minho makes up his mind and starts feeding money into the machine. "You're a baby." He quickly presses the buttons before turning to Jisung with a cheesy smile. "My baby," he says and then laughs at the flustered look his words have painted on the other's face. "You're making this too easy for me, Jisung-ah."
"Meanie," goes Jisung without actually sounding offended, going to the pickup window to fetch the items. When he reaches inside and pulls out the two bags of chips, he becomes visibly confused. "Hyung, I think you made a mistake. This isn't Cheetos."
"I know," acknowledges Minho as he's handed his Honey Butter Chips, "but I like this one, too, and it's cute how 'honey' sounds similar to 'Hannie,' don't you think?"
Though Jisung opens his mouth to say something, he puffs up his cheeks for a moment instead and then walks away. "Let's just get on with the damn tour."
Minho snickers and follows Jisung to the stairwell, happy that he's won this round.
Their first stop is the Punching Bag's equivalent for drinks on the twenty-third floor. They walk through a long hallway, passing two different offices, and make a left at the end. Jisung munches on his and Minho's snacks while providing factual yet fun descriptions of the companies they see and don't see.
"Knowledge is power," explains Jisung. "I have a friend at that fast-food chain earlier, and he's told me which menu items I should avoid based on the number of customer complaints they've gotten. Then my friend who works at a car insurance firm six floors up has shared so many cases—all anonymous, take note—he's handled that have taken away my desire to own and drive any kind of vehicle."
"You don't strike me as a corporate socialite."
"Having four non-colleague friends in a thirty-five-story building is not being a corporate socialite."
Minho sees a fun opportunity here. "I'm your friend, Jisung-ah?" he teases, quirking an eyebrow and popping a chip into his mouth for effect.
"Uh," Jisung takes a moment to think about his answer, "technically, you can't be a friend because you're older than me, but, um…"
"I'd rather be your boyfriend."
Their eyes lock onto each other, and at the same exact time, they sing, "If I was your boyfriend, I'd never let you go." The coincidental synchronization has them chuckling softly into their hands, both of them aware that any loud sound they make will create echoes and attract unwanted attention.
"You're a Bieber fan?" asks Minho, genuinely curious.
Jisung shrugs. "I'm not updated on him or anything, but his early songs were everywhere."
"That's true. I don't know anyone who hasn't heard 'Baby' at least once in their life."
The end of the hallway splits into two directions again, and Jisung jogs slightly ahead of Minho to gesture to the right with his arms forming a less-than sign and jazz hands. "Aaanndd, here it is: the Karate Kid!"
If the somewhat dramatic introduction puts a toothy grin on Minho's face, the vending machine has his eyes widening in awe. It is at least 50% wider than the Punching Bag, contains several drinks Minho thought had long been phased out, and uses a mechanism for card payment in addition to cash. Seeing it almost feels like stumbling across treasure.
"This is incredible," says Minho, unblinking.
"I know!" squeals Jisung and pulls his companion by the wrist closer to the Karate Kid to a white can with a yellow-orange fruit printed on it. "This is the peach drink I was telling you about—it's divine. It's what I think water from the Fountain of Youth would taste like. But while it's the nectar of the gods, feel free to get anything. All the drinks here are great. Except for the Pine Bud Drink."
"You don't like that?" smirks Minho.
Jisung raises an eyebrow at him. "Do you?"
"It's an acquired taste, but I can drink it if it's the only option or if someone gives it to me. Think of it as air freshener for your insides."
"My insides don't need to be fresh. No one's smelling them anyway."
"I'll smell them." As soon as Minho hears his own words, he regrets them because they're one, strange and two, nonsensical, but he supposes that if Jisung can't handle this side of him, they're incompatible since he's definitely said weirder things in his life so far and will continue to do so till the cows go home.
Jisung blinks two times, perhaps processing what he's just been told, and then he says, "Are you telling me you like me from the inside out?"
Oh, he's a keeper. "I am. Was it too early to put that out there?"
"No. I also like you from the inside out."
"Mmm. Glad we've come to an understanding." Minho bites back a smile as he goes back to checking the beverages. "You know what? You deserve to be sales rep of the year because you've convinced me to get that peach juice you've been raving about so much."
"I'm telling you, you'll feel invincible after one sip."
"And if I don't?"
"Then it means you have to keep drinking until you do. People's bodies vary in nutritional needs."
"Of course. What're you having?"
"Maybe…" Jisung gets close enough to touch the glass to indicate his preference, a bottled green grape drink Minho hasn't tried before. "This one."
"Got it." Minho only has to take a step to get to the cashless POS and take responsibility for the payment.
"Hey!" protests Jisung. "You paid for our chips!"
"And we need something to wash them down with," says Minho, slipping his debit card into the slot. "Indigestion is better prevented than cured, Jisung-ah." A soft ting signals the success of the transaction and the emancipation of the drinks from their galvanized steel prison.
Again, Jisung is the one who collects the goods. "I was gonna make it the last stop of the tour, but since it's unhygienic to bring food inside the bathrooms, I'll show you the Not-So-Secret Garden now. We can eat there as long as we don't litter."
"Who's giving out all these names for things and places?" inquires Minho. He and Jisung are in the stairwell again, this time passing three floors. Though he'd heard about the indoor garden from colleagues, he hadn't had the time to see it for himself, which is fortunate since he gets to have a beautiful man bring him there.
"Not sure," answers Jisung. "They've just been passed around by word of mouth. If you discover something new in the building, you get to name it, hyung."
"What, like a rabbit hole à la Alice in Wonderland except dug out of concrete?"
Jisung gets to the landing first and turns to beam at Minho, who's on the last step of the stairs. "That'd be great, wouldn't it, to escape reality for a little while?"
For a second and a fraction over, Minho gets lost in Jisung's round eyes and warm aura. He becomes hyper-aware of how fast his heartbeat is. With no one else around, he exercises the fleeting freedom he has by giving Jisung's left cheek—the area where a small mole is—a soft, lingering pinch. The skin between his fingers is smooth, and the bit of flesh is supple. Jisung's lips parting slightly at the touch doesn't escape Minho's attention. "Yes," he says in a delicate tone, "but right now, I think reality isn't so bad."
JISUNG
While Minho is uncapping Jisung's beverage (at his own insistence), Jisung wills his left hand to stay on his lap, fighting the urge to rub the part of his face that had been touched.
The last time he'd received affection from someone other than his friends and relatives was two-ish years ago. It had come from his ex-boyfriend of four months, easy on the eyes, show-stopping in bed, but a compulsive liar and one hell of a gaslighter. They'd met at a common friend's wedding, and even during their early days, his choice of showing affection had been lewd and bordering on aggressive, never tender, never sweet, so unlike how Minho successfully opens the bottle and hands it to Jisung with a smile made out of cotton candy and plushies.
"You okay?" asks Minho, definitely noticing Jisung sinking into his own thoughts.
"Yup, all good." Jisung takes the beverage and takes his first sip. The tangy, sweet liquid is cool and refreshing as it goes down his throat. At the sound of a can being opened, Jisung waits for Minho's reaction to the peach drink he's been hyping up. He unabashedly stares at the man's sharp nose, perfect jawline, and Adam's apple that bobs with each gulp. This is the closest thing, he thinks, to seeing God.
"Fuck me" is what first comes out of Minho's mouth. "I could drink ten liters of this."
Jisung claps excitedly by tapping the bottle he's holding. "I knew you'd love it! It's totally worth the wait, right?"
The simplicity of the answer isn't what makes Jisung blush—it's the way Minho looks at him with a soft expression when he says, "Yeah, it is." Minho just snickers at the harmless slap that lands on his arm.
Because they're on a backless bench, Jisung proposes they sit cross-legged facing each other with their snacks between them to share. They place their bags on the extra space beside Jisung.
"What about our drinks?" asks Minho while pulling up the legs of his slacks a bit so he can sit without ripping the crotch seam.
"It's okay for you even if it means we'll be swapping spit?" goes Jisung with a chuckle.
"We'll be doing that at some point anyway."
Minho starts admiring the surroundings as though he hadn't just said something suggestive. The open area they're in is longer than it is wide, barricaded lengthwise by glass panels separating the four floors it cuts through as well as the glass curtain wall serving as the building's exterior, letting all the sunlight in, and giving a picturesque view of the cityscape. Both short sides are walls covered in leafy evergreens of varying textures, sizes, and shades.
A single walk path of flagstone snakes through the space, and the wooden benches outlining it are spaced far apart enough for conversations to be private. The rest of the floor is covered with irregularly shaped garden beds containing live vegetation, from flowering shrubs to short trees. Because the sun is already setting, the stake lights between the benches and the lawn lights scattered among the plants have been turned on, providing soft illumination.
"I wonder if they designed this place as an apology for the amount of stress the employees are experiencing," muses Minho, helping himself to Jisung's food.
"If they're sincere about it, they should apologize using monthly bonuses." Jisung allows himself to observe his companion's appearance more carefully. His younger self would never believe that the older version of him would be capable of going on a date with a person whose face deserves to be on a thousand billboards. "So. Minho-hyung."
"So. Jisung-ah."
"Is there a hobby or a skill you wish you'd picked up?"
"Mmm…" Minho nibbles on a honey butter chip while thinking. "I did pick it up, but I'm unable to do it anymore. Dancing."
"Oh wow. No wonder your legs look so sturdy."
There's a glint in Minho's eye when he goes, "You've had your eyes on my legs, Jisung-ah?"
"I've had them on your everything," admits Jisung without shame, knowing that the other enjoys frankness (and if the smile on Minho's face is any indication, he's right). "What kind of dance were you into? Ballet? Maybe salsa?"
"Actually, I started with ballroom dancing," answers Minho. "I wanted to learn street dance when I was in elementary school, but my parents thought it 'lacked culture.' I went for ballroom dancing instead, and they paid for it while I saved my allowance for the dance classes I was interested in. It took me around two years to have enough funds for basic and intermediate lessons in the same school. When my older brother saw how much I enjoyed it, he covered the fees for the advanced courses."
"And you haven't danced since?"
"I kept it up through high school and university through dance clubs, and then I joined a professional dance crew after graduation. My parents disapproved, of course, so I moved out and stayed away for some years, but they contacted me again, and here I am."
"How come? If you love dancing so much, why'd you give it up for a corporate position?"
Minho doesn't speak right away. Jisung can tell he's internally debating what to disclose and what to keep to himself. "Other things happened, and this was the best route to take for me to get my life back on track. I know it sounds like I'd made a terrible decision, but my past actions brought me to you, so…"
Though warmth bursts throughout Jisung's chest, he still feels a bit bad. He chooses not to express it, however, because he doesn't know the full story yet. "Your dedication to flirting is impressive."
"I never half-ass anything," smirks Minho. "Your turn."
"It's cooking for me. Even now that I'm flying solo, the only thing I can make is instant noodles. And the occasional fried egg that I almost always burn to a crisp."
"I can cook, but it does require a bit of practice before you can be comfortable with it."
"Frying anything in hot oil is my second top fear after heights."
"Acrophobia twinsies!" Minho raises his hand for a high five, which Jisung is happy to give.
The time on Jisung's phone reads five thirty-eight. "Okay, we have time for one question from you. The first janitor won't appear till six ten."
"I was about to ask how you know their schedule," says Minho, "but I might become an accidental accomplice to a crime if I hear the answer, so never mind." Jisung snickers, mischievous. "If you were to become an animal in your next life, what would you be and why?"
Being an avid watcher of nature videos on YouTube prevents Jisung from replying quickly. Would he rather be big or small, cool or strange, prey or predator? He takes questions like this seriously. "I'd like to be any deep-sea creature," he answers. "Even with the most advanced technology we have, we still can't explore the bottom of the ocean, so I wanna be able to experience the unknown. That'd be the closest to living on another planet, I think."
"Talk about opposites—I wanna be an eagle," says Minho with an amused grin. "I hate that I'm afraid of heights now, and becoming something that practically lives in the sky would make up for that. The views would be spectacular. But it's too bad we won't get to meet one another."
Jisung takes that opportunity to take a swig from Minho's peach juice, tipping his head back so his mouth isn't entirely on the opening. After swallowing, he goes, "Maybe we can be elephants, then. Not a lot of predators will come after us, and we can spend our days taking walks together, exploring the forest or savannah—it'd depend what kind we are—and eating a lot."
Minho's smile widens as he listens to the explanation. "Since we won't have hands, can we hold trunks wherever we go?"
The image of two elephants with their trunks curled over one another creates bubbles of joy in Jisung's head. "Of course, hyung," he answers. "We can even do it while we're sleeping."
"Good," says Minho. "I'll give up my eagle dreams for an elephant life with you."
Jisung is so besotted that he forgoes breathing for a few seconds.
With their snacks and drinks consumed, Jisung and Minho take the elevator to the fourth floor. They do their best to look formal in the presence of other employees, but when it's time for them to alight, a giggly Jisung does a half-run, half-walk down the corridor, and a similarly carefree Minho follows suit.
"The first bathroom I'm gonna show you is for straightforward, no-funny-business pooping," informs Jisung. "There's an unspoken rule that anyone who uses it shouldn't make any sort of mess, so it's immaculate at all hours of the day. Sometimes, Yongbok and I even take naps there."
Minho blinks three times. "As in you sit on the toilet and sleep?"
"Yeah. You put the lid down, get comfy, and fly off to dreamland."
"What if someone comes in and has to go number two? Won't the smell be unpleasant?"
"Maybe for a few seconds, but the ventilation's better than in other bathrooms, so it's tolerable. And did I mention that there are not one but two automatic air freshener dispensers?" adds Jisung, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
"No, you did not," returns Minho, "and now that you have, I'm already 85% more impressed."
"This is it, this is it." Jisung shuffles toward a single swing door with a sign labeling it the men's bathroom. He puts his hand on it but doesn't push, instead looking at his companion with an excited expression. "I now present to you…the Hundred Acre Wood!" Although he motions to open the door, he has to stop because of Minho's next statement.
"Wait, why's it called that?"
"Um, it's where Winnie the Pooh lives, so 'Pooh' becomes a pun for—"
"Ah. That's…cerebral and childish at the same time."
"The next bathroom has a funnier name. Tada!" Jisung puts his weight on the door so that it swings inward, revealing a pristine bathroom with three sinks across from five urinals separated by modesty panels, and further down the room are toilet cubicles in rows of three. The color scheme is off-white square tiles for the floor; light beige marble with gray streaks for the walls; and dark walnut for the wooden dividers, doors, and partitions.
"It smells so clean," comments Minho as his eyes roam over the place.
"They've been using a fresh cotton scent for a couple of months now," informs Jisung as he goes to the sink to wash his hands. "It was eucalyptus and rosemary before that."
"Oh, the toilet water's blue!" chirps Minho from one of the cubicles. "How is this a public bathroom? It's even nicer than the one I have at home."
Jisung turns off the faucet and moves to the paper towel dispenser. "Someone said this bathroom is reserved for execs and such, but I doubt any of those boomers know about it. And even if they did, they wouldn't have the energy to come down here just to take a dump."
"You don't sound very fond of them," says Minho, who opts to use the pump dispenser of alcohol on the sink. He makes eye contact with Jisung in the mirror. "Do you have a personal vendetta against them or what?"
"Not a vendetta—that's too dramatic. It's more of I have an issue with how their salaries are like fifteen times mine when I'm sure they won't last a day in a lower-level employee's shoes. It's preposterous."
"Mmm. I concur. They should learn to share their wealth."
"Exactly. They're not the only ones keeping the company afloat."
Minho nods in agreement. "So is the other bathroom as nice as this one?"
"In some ways, yes," answers Jisung. He leads Minho out the door and toward the stairwell. "But like I told you, this one is for the, erm, more chaotic type of pooping. There's no other place like it in the whole building. Yongbok and I have checked."
"You two sure use your breaks well," remarks Minho, sounding entertained. "I'd love to meet this partner in crime of yours. He seems as fun as you are."
"Sure. I'll introduce you two when I get the chance." Jisung keeps the door open to let Minho walk through. "It's annoying, though, 'coz every time we got in trouble in school, I'm the one who got blamed for everything while he got off scot-free 'coz of his damn angelic face. Even if he's the mastermind, I'm the bad guy by default."
"Lucky for you, then," says Minho, "because between the two of us, I'm the sinister entity."
Jisung throws Minho an are-you-kidding-me look over his shoulder. "With that face, you can get away with any crime known to humankind, hyung."
On the third floor, their walk is short since the bathroom is near the stairwell. Unlike the previous one, this has a panel door with a silver knob, and it's unisex. Jisung gestures for Minho to go in first and locks the door behind him in case a janitor arrives.
"Whoa," goes Minho. "It's for one person?"
"'Yup, which makes it the best bathroom for explosive encounters. You get all the privacy you need."
The rectangular space has the usual amenities: a sink with a mirror, a toilet as well as a urinal, separate tissue and paper towel dispensers, and a vending machine on the wall for sanitary pads. What makes it stand out is the amount of space it has. A full-size sedan could fit inside with room to spare.
"What's this bathroom called?" asks Minho.
"Wanna take a guess?"
"Unfortunately, I'm not imaginative enough to live up to the name-giving standards around here."
"That's fine 'coz neither am I. It's Teletummyland."
The expression on Minho's face changes from unconvinced to suspicious to bemused. "Teletummyland."
"Teletummyland," confirms Jisung matter-of-factly.
"As in…"
"Where Teletubbies painting the walls with their diarrhea live."
"Oh god." Despite his apparent disgust, Minho lets out a breathy laugh, probably imagining the humanoids dealing with digestive problems. "Don't tell me you've slept here, too." Jisung responds by not saying anything, causing the other to shake his head while grinning. "Like a true rascal." In the beat that passes without either of them talking, Minho's eyes go from curious to sly. He takes slow steps toward Jisung as he asks, "Have you done other things in here as well?"
"What other—oh." Though instinct tells Jisung to move back, his back is already flush against the door. He really should stop getting himself in situations where Minho could corner him. "Firstly, it's unhygienic. And secondly, no one in this building has wanted to do that with me."
"Until now," corrects Minho, who has gotten close enough for Jisung to get semi-drunk on the earthy vanilla scent of his perfume.
"Until now," mimics Jisung but more softly because he's tunnel-visioning on the other man's pink lips. Even though he often doesn't kiss until the second date at the earliest, his subconscious had made Minho the exception even before they'd talked about meeting again. And since there are no rules about when the first kiss should be, maybe he can just lean in and—
"My eyes are up here, jagi."
With those words, Jisung is flung back to reality and has to will himself to hold Minho's gaze.
"Now that I have your attention," continues Minho, "where are you gonna wine and dine me, hmm?"
Jisung perks up at the question. "I dunno about wine, but dining? We'll be doing lots of that."
With only two floors left to traverse, they use the stairwell for the last time, especially since they want to avoid the rush hour crowd. Jisung finds out that Minho is an introvert just like him, a big relief since he hasn't had many good experiences dating outgoing, party-loving people. He expresses this sentiment to Minho, who laughs and goes, "One time, I took laxatives to get out of going to a family reunion. Suffering on the toilet for maybe two hours was worth it."
The anecdote tells Jisung that yup, he's smitten to the bone.
On the first floor, instead of heading for the main doors, Jisung guides Minho to the back exit, which isn't as grand, just a single glass door to an unbusy street and farther off a fenced outdoor parking lot. Though there are traces of pinkish orange sunlight left in the sky, all the streetlights are already on. Jisung and Minho turn right.
During the sixteen-minute walk, Jisung assumes a full tourist guide role, telling Minho about the interesting features of the neighborhood they're in when they reach an area no longer surrounded by skyscrapers: hole-in-the-wall restaurants, independent bookstores, and places selling all kinds of knickknacks. Minho hangs on to his every word with an appreciative smile, nodding and humming every so often to show that he's listening. They pause at a flower shop to smell some of the bouquets displayed out front, and they pass through a park that's a shortcut to their destination.
"Dirty Patty?" asks Minho, reading the block letters above the restaurant's yellow-and-black awning.
"Their specialty is messy burgers." Jisung overtakes Minho so he can pull the glass door for him. "After you, Minho-hyung."
The restaurant is small small, able to seat only a maximum of ten. Facing the window, there's a narrow, long table for four customers seated on cushioned stools. Perpendicular to that is a banquette for two separate rectangular tables with one stool each on the opposite side. The ordering counter, which is but a meter behind the shared table, is reverse L-shaped and occupied by the cashier and someone preparing drinks. For waiting patrons, there's a padded bench across from the entrance, and it's right against a divider meant to subtly hide the door of the tiny restroom.
"I think this is the most adorable restaurant I've ever been to." With his eyes darting from one area to the next, Minho resembles a child visiting a newly opened toy store. "I'm hanging out with the wrong people 'coz no one told me this existed."
They go for the private table that's available before checking the back-to-back menus provided by the server. Jisung chuckles at the way his date's mouth drops because of the burger descriptions and photos.
"All of them are great," says Jisung. "I'll let you try whatever I order since I've eaten everything here."
Their food arrives just as they're discussing sesame seeds' role in burger buns ("They add a subtle flavor," "No, they clog up the tooth gaps I didn't even know I had"). Minho's burger has two thick patties layered with pickled onions, crunchy lettuce, white mushrooms, bacon strips, and plenty of melted cheddar that oozes onto the plate. Jisung's is also a double burger stacked high with onion rings, juicy tomatoes, pickle relish, fresh lettuce, and soft mozzarella. Their sides are loaded French fries and homemade chicken nuggets, while dessert is a chocolate mint sundae for them to share.
Minho holds up the clear plastic gloves that have come with their order. "Am I required to use these?"
"No, but our hands have to be clean," says Jisung, pulling a mini spritz bottle of alcohol out of his bag.
"You've thought of everything, Jisung-ah. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get into my pants." Grinning mischievously, Minho shows his hands to Jisung palms up to have them sprayed.
"That's too easy. I like a good challenge." Jisung picks that moment to connect his and Minho's gaze. "I'm aiming to get into your heart first."
Though he doesn't say anything, Minho bites his lower lip and nudges Jisung's knee with his own while he rubs together his hands wet with alcohol.
Given the nature of their food, Jisung and Minho eat the only way possible: sloppily. Juices from the meat and vegetables drip onto their plates and coat their fingers with each bite. Oil and sauce settle on and around their lips and even dribble down Jisung's chin, causing Minho to giggle while chewing. Two piles of wadded-up tissue form as they go through the meal, while tiny drops of varying colors appear on the table and their clothes.
And because they don't stop chatting, at one point, a piece of semi-chewed burger flies out of Jisung's mouth to land on the floor, and a little later Minho coughs and gets teary-eyed when a fry goes down the wrong pipe.
At the end of it, they compare the damage to their person. The result is a draw because apart from their messy hands, Jisung has a streak each of ketchup and ice cream on his left cheek, and breading from the nuggets has somehow found its way to Minho's hair. They laugh a lot but make sure to keep it down because other customers have joined them at the restaurant. Prior to leaving, they beeline for the bathroom to wash up.
"My hands still smell like cooked meat," snickers Minho once they're out of the burger joint and aimlessly walking on the street. "You think my cats will bite me because of this?"
"Oh my God, don't let them," warns Jisung. "You might turn into Catwoman."
"That sounds cool, actually. I get to dress up like a cat and use a whip."
"Can Catwoman communicate with cats?"
"I'm not sure since Batman is also from DC and can't talk to bats. But it'd be cool if she could, and then every time she goes after criminals, she'll ask stray cats nearby to help her out."
"She'll use a laser pointer to show them which people to scratch and bite," adds Jisung before something pops in his head. "Wait. If she can talk to cats, that means wild cats, too—mountain lions, leopards, caracals, jaguars—oh, oh! And black-footed cats, the deadliest felines! Those would make the perfect allies. Man, double-fictional Catwoman is already my favorite antiheroine." He then turns to Minho, who has gone quiet and is staring at him with a gentle smiling expression that knocks him sideways. "What?"
"It may be too early to say this," says Minho, "but you're the most fun person I've gone out with."
A silly grin appears on Jisung's face. "I wonder if you'll still be able to say that after the second date."
"No doubt I'll be screaming it from the rooftops."
Jisung feels like a balloon about to burst with flowers and confetti. "If you get a noise complaint, I'm outta there," he jokes, partially to calm the fist-sized organ hammering in his ribs. "You're the most fun person I've dated, too. And the best-looking. Like. Compared to you, most of the guys I've been with are swamp-born and -raised ogres."
Minho cackles at the description. "Han Jisung, remind me not to give you reason to call me names behind my back."
The street they're on stops at a main road with more traffic, people, and noise. When their eyes meet, Jisung regrets it because they've done the tour and the dinner, which means the date is over. Maybe he can suggest going to an event, like a poetry slam (if that concept's still alive) or a stand-up comedy show, but where are those held in Seoul? The only sources of stand-up comedy he knows are YouTube and TikTok. It's a bad idea, though, because he and Minho might not find the same people funny and—
"At which bus stop will you be waiting?" asks Minho, cutting Jisung's musings short.
"Uh, I don't need to catch a bus. My apartment's walking distance from here."
"Alright, then. I'll walk you home."
"No!" protests Jisung. "That'd be too much. There are a lot of cabs here, so I'll stay with you until—"
Minho lifts an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get rid of me again?"
"Of course not, but it's out of the way for you, and we have work tomorrow. I want you to get home as early as possible." It's a lie. Jisung wants to stretch the very fabric of time and space with his own hands just to have Minho beside him for longer and stop the next day from ever coming, but he can't risk appearing needy or clingy, qualities his most recent ex had complained about.
"You sound like my mother when I was in high school." Minho starts walking on the sidewalk. "Since I don't know where your place is, I'll just keep going till I get there," he says over his shoulder.
"No, don't!" Although Jisung tries blocking Minho, the latter places a hand on the middle of Jisung's chest to push him back so he can continue walking. Jisung lets out a whiny laugh as he feels his steadfastness weakening with every step. When the other doesn't let up, he goes, "It's the other way."
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Minho retracts his hand (much to Jisung's disappointment) and changes directions. Jisung, still smiling in amusement, falls into step with him. They mostly talk about space after Minho points out how unfortunate it is that they can't see the galaxies in the sky because of light pollution.
"Black holes or supernovas?" asks Minho. They're playing a game of What Would You Rather See In Front Of You.
"Shit, that's a hard one," answers Jisung seriously. "Can't I use a time machine so I can watch the supernova and then fast-forward to it birthing a black hole?"
"Not a chance. And I'll pretend I didn't hear you say 'birthing' like two stars copulated and one got pregnant."
"You're one to talk. Copulated. Who uses that in casual talk? Are you gonna grow a mustache and start wearing a monocle and a top hat now?"
Minho scrunches his nose as he laughs at himself. He's effortlessly endearing. "Fucked," he says, which is what Jisung is at the moment. "Banged. Screwed. Happy now? Bonked."
"Bonked! Now that's a term I welcome." Jisung does a half twirl so he's facing Minho. "I pick supernovas. They're extraordinary, and black holes are invisible anyway." He then grins and says, "This is me," referring to the six-story building to his right that's wider than it is tall. "Thanks for walking me home. And hiring me as your tour guide."
"I'll make sure to leave a stellar review on your website," returns Minho. He looks at the apartment and back at Jisung. "Are you against kissing on the first date?"
Jisung shrieks in silence. "Most of the time, yeah."
"How about this time?"
"Not at all."
Taking a step closer, Minho says in a hushed manner, "As I've told you, I'm a proponent of taking things slow with someone."
The barely there distance between their faces is draining what's left of Jisung's sanity. "Same here." Are they about to kiss? Should he excuse himself so he can pop a mint and not taste like the hunk of meat he'd just eaten? How likely would it be for a neighbor to come out of the building and see them sucking face?
"So I'll just kiss you on the cheek."
Jisung tries not to look as deflated as he feels. "Okay. Get on with it, Romeo."
Another step and the tips of Minho's shoes touch Jisung's. The nearest streetlight bathes half of Minho's face in a soft orange hue and, in turn, casts the rest of it in shadow. His eyes become intense, like he'd suddenly been endowed with the power to read minds and now knows how down bad Jisung is for him (which, thankfully, isn't true).
Jisung alternates between making eye contact and dropping his gaze to the other's lips, his knees slowly melting into jelly. His hands instinctively go onto Minho's upper arms when Minho rests his right hand on the narrowest part of Jisung's waist; Jisung tries not to react vocally to how firm the muscles he's touching are.
Minho plants the kiss on Jisung's cheek mole, hardly an inch away from the corner of his mouth. Jisung stays still and inadvertently holds his breath as his entire being becomes focused on Minho's soft lips and warm breath on his skin. Although the kiss lasts only for a few seconds, it has Jisung feeling tingly all over.
"Goodbye, Han Jisung," whispers Minho after pulling away just enough so they can look at each other.
"Goodbye, hyung," says Jisung with more breath than voice. Frankly, it's anticlimactic, but he has no choice but to watch Minho unceremoniously walk off, and then he turns to face the apartment building once the other is several feet away.
The only way he can unlock the front glass doors is to input his apartment number and passcode into the keypad next to them. He places a finger on the '4' button, but he doesn't get around to pressing it because of a slight weight on his left shoulder.
Upon checking it, he sees a hand, and when he lifts his head to see the owner of the body part, Minho is suddenly there, ethereal in every translation of the word, but where the fuck did he come from?
"I forgot to say goodnight," says Minho.
"Ah. G—"
Jisung isn't even given time to sound out the first vowel because Minho pulls him by the hips and kisses him. Properly. On the mouth. He freezes for several blinks before closing his eyes and parting his lips, which Minho takes as a cue to deepen the kiss, their tongues meeting halfway. Jisung then wraps his arms around Minho's neck, one hand combing through and tugging Minho's hair with just enough force to prompt the other to smile into the kiss. He feels Minho's fingers digging into his lower back, almost reaching the curve of his ass but not quite—he should tell him he can be less of a gentleman in situations like this.
They separate for a moment when Minho tilts his head the other way and continues the kiss with the same fervor, akin to a parched man in the desert given a jug of fresh, cool water. All of Jisung's thoughts are engulfed by the slide and warmth of the other's mouth. He's never been kissed like this, and he thinks he doesn't want to be kissed by anyone else for the remainder of his life.
When it ends—slowly, their longingness palpable—both men gaze at each other and giggle in equal parts elation and amusement. Though a car hums past, neither of them notices it as their world has been reduced to the space they occupy.
"Was that okay?" asks Minho. "Not burgery or oniony?"
Jisung answers with a shake of his head. "It was mint chocolatey. But I like burgers and onions, so either way works for me."
"Mmm. As expected from someone who can sleep in a public restroom," chuckles Minho. He blocks Jisung's counterstatement with another kiss, gentler and softer. Jisung has never been more pleased to be shut up. "Goodnight, Jisung-ah."
"…Goodnight, hyung." Unlike minutes ago, Jisung follows Minho with his eyes until Minho crosses to the other side of the street and disappears behind a building after one last wave. He smiles all the way to his apartment, unit 401, locks the door, and walks to his bed to drop onto it and scream with happiness into his pillows.
It feels as though a star has burst within the walls of his heart.
A supernova.
MINHO
The sun is out, the trees in the garden are bursting with the fiery colors of autumn, and Minho is on his third lowball glass of bourbon apple cider.
Does he like it? Meh, it could be stronger, but it's the pre-ceremony cocktail hour, and the only other choice he has does not have alcohol, a Shirley Temple, which is what Chan and Changbin are having. Two muscular men with intimidating resting faces sipping on pink beverages with berries cutely floating in them is a sight to behold.
"He'll be here in a few," goes Changbin after checking his phone.
True enough, two minutes later, Hyunjin saunters to their cocktail table already with the same beverage as Minho in hand. "The progenies-to-pensioners ratio here is sorely unbalanced" is the first thing he says to them. "Is this Seonie's wedding or her dad's?"
"Hard to say," remarks Minho. "Are we at the fourth stepmom right now?" He takes one of the blackberries floating in his drink and starts nibbling on it.
"Third," corrects the other three at the same time in the same nonchalant tone.
"He didn't marry the one who was originally supposed to be third," says Changbin. "Got her pregnant, though, that bastard."
"'Bastardmaker' is more fitting," remarks Hyunjin. "Oh, sorry, Channie-hyung. I forgot you're his prodigal Australian son who may or may not be in his last will and testament."
Chan gives him an exasperated look. "We play golf sometimes. That's it."
"He's never invited us to play golf," Minho points out, more to tease than to be genuinely upset. "I bet he doesn't even expect us to be here."
"I bet he wanted you to marry Seonie," says Changbin with a smirk. "Hell, he'd marry you if he could."
Hyunjin playfully claps Changbin's arm. "Ya, stop making Channie-hyung blush!"
Chan is most certainly not blushing. Being the peace-loving man he is, he doesn't retaliate and instead stuffs his mouth with one of the mini quiches on the plate they're sharing. This action draws out more laughter from Changbin and Hyunjin and a bigger smile from Minho. "Hey, how was your date, by the way?" asks Chan after swallowing, ever the master of changing topics.
"There better be good news," warns Changbin. "I was serious about replacing you with Jisung."
"Joke's on you—I'll be here until I can use a bulldozer to dump dirt on your casket," says Minho. He takes a bite of a caprese crostini prior to continuing. "Do you all remember that time someone bought me a first-class ticket to Budapest for our first date?" His friends nod. "Last night was a hundred times better."
Chan squeals with matching tiny stomps in place.
Hyunjin covers his mouth and steps away from the table.
Changbin punches the air with, "Woo! My boy's got game!"
"Details, hyung. We need all the juicy details," says Hyunjin impatiently and then gasps. "Oh my gosh. You manwhore. Did you sleep with him?!"
"No," answers Minho firmly. "And who are you calling a manwhore? You go on dates, first or otherwise, with your ding-a-ling out and waving to everyone." Changbin coughs in the middle of chewing a falafel.
"I acknowledge my being a monogamous whore, thank you very much. So wait, then—"
"Minho-ya, maybe you should help Hyunjinie relearn how to date with his pants intact," snickers Chan.
"Hyung, c'mon, tell us about it before the ceremony starts," urges Changbin. "I'm not willing to wait until the reception."
"Okay, nosy." Minho keeps it simple to save time and leaves out all the indecent comments stored in his hippocampus regarding every moment with Jisung.
At first, the three men act as though they're listening to Minho talk about stock prices in order to blend in with the mostly Gen X and boomer crowd, but their meeting room-appropriate expressions quickly turn to soppy smiles as the story progresses. By the end of the narration, Chan has bite marks care of himself on his right fist; Hyunjin has taken his suit jacket off after complaining that gay love stories make him sweat; and Changbin has completely abandoned the food, a major feat given he's perpetually bulking.
"Yeah, okay, you're still in this friend circle," says Changbin. "That surprise goodnight kiss was one hell of a move. I'll take note of that for future use."
"Honestly, I thought the office tour thing was an odd concept at first," confesses Hyunjin as he tries a fruit skewer, "but I should've considered that a couple of hot weirdos would have the most fun with that. Later, you should try catching the bride's bouquet since Jisung is obviously The One."
Minho quickly tosses back the last of his alcoholic beverage. "I'm not about to count my chickens before they hatch."
"I have a really good feeling about Jisung, though," says Chan with a warm smile, "so I think there's no harm in forecasting how this is all gonna turn out. A little positivity won't hurt."
All Minho offers is a shrug, which he doesn't have to follow up with anything else because Seonjeong's [present] stepmom goes up the wide garden steps to request everyone to move to the main wedding area. Changbin and Chan finish what's left on their shared plate prior to the four of them looking for seats. They end up in the middle row at the bride's side.
Seonjeong and Chan had met in college since they were both Music majors. He'd introduced her to Changbin first and then Minho and Hyunjin later on. They'd all become fast friends, their common denominator being an unbreakable aversion to the elite lifestyle and their parents' plans for them to take over the family businesses. Only Minho had been spared from the latter back then because Taegeun was still around, an accomplished first son who did everything as he was told.
Until he didn't.
The wedding ceremony is smooth from start to finish. Seonjeong laughs and waves at the four young men making funny faces at her as she walks down the aisle. When she gets to the front, she and the groom, Namgil, look at each other as lovingly as they have for the past six years. They're the only couple Minho personally knows that has been able to prove to him the existence of true love.
As for him, his past failed relationships have given him all the reasons in the world to be skeptical of anything to do with romance.
That doesn't apply to Jisung, though.
The reception is over at the neighboring fenced garden, where different trees and flowering shrubs have been planted to make it distinct. In the middle stands a rectangular frame tent. While the roof is transparent, translucent drapery swoops in elegant inverted arches from the middle line of the ceiling and cascades down to the sides like curtains, allowing natural light to come through.
There are tables seating six and tables seating ten, and above each is a suspended beam from which tendrils of greenery dotted with white flowers hang. The row of centerpieces on every table is of the same refreshing color palette. A white, square dance floor separates the guests from the wedded couple, whose table is on a raised platform for everyone to get a good view.
Minho and his friend group are assigned to one of the smaller tables along with a couple of Seonjeong's colleagues. While waiting for the bride and groom, he checks his phone that's on silent and is glad to see KakaoTalk notifications from Jisung in response to his earlier messages.
ehlomein: good morning :)
ehlomein: earlier start today than usual because a friend's getting married
ehlomein: [image]
hannie_shalalala: oh my god. the last time i jumped out of bed this quickly was when i was in the military. you're a stunner. a vision. a cure for blindness.
hannie_shalalala: you're also making me use periods. i'm a total mess. you mess me up. wow.
hannie_shalalala: [bear pouring hearts out of a basket sticker]
hannie_shalalala: good morning too btw [heart emoji]
hannie_shalalala: oh wait sorry i've turned into a spambot but equality is important right?
hannie_shalalala: [image]
The photo Jisung has sent is a bathroom mirror selfie. Wearing a loose gray tee, he has pushed his fluffy hair out of his face with a cloth headband, and his toothbrush is dangling out one corner of his mouth. He's holding the phone with his right hand and putting up a V sign with the other. His head is tilted to the side. Sleepiness softens the edges of his eyes.
The feral animal living within Minho goes into heat.
ehlomein: you look like the softest sweetest cupcake i wanna sink my teeth into
ehlomein: the next date should be a sleepover so i can wake up to this
"Hyung, what'd I tell you about sexting in public?" asks Hyunjin when he notices Minho suddenly smiling at his phone.
Minho throws him a warning glare across the table before reading Jisung's reply.
hannie_shalalala: so sleeping together is allowed on the second date? [surprised dog emoji]
ehlomein: i meant sleeping beside each other or even just me sleeping on your couch but i'm up for your interpretation too jagi ;)
hannie_shalalala: [blushing and smiling bunny sticker]
hannie_shalalala: yeah no i'm totally being cool about this ha ha haaaaa
hannie_shalalala: shoot our team leader saw me on my phone and i'm preparing a report lmao bye bye
ehlomein: go kick that report in the ass jisung-ah~
ehlomein: [cheerleading bear sticker]
"Man, hyung," says Changbin with a big smirk as Minho locks his phone, "you need to be confined in a hospital for how lovesick you look right now."
Minho swats Chan's hand away when the curly-haired man tries to touch his surely red ears.
"Nothing more alcohol can't cure," comments Hyunjin, craning his neck for some reason. "The open bar's all set up. Time to raid it, boys."
Although the guests can order the usual drinks and mixes, Minho opts for all ten of the cocktails specially made for the wedding since he won't be driving anyway and might not be able to try them elsewhere. He gets two at a time until he's exhausted the list, and then he reorders the ones he likes most.
Due to his high alcohol tolerance, he'd expected not to get buzzed easily, but his mistake is going for the spiked punch after each cocktail. It's far more potent than it tastes, so by the time the reception program is over and dancing becomes an option for the guests, he's already his giggly, touchy semi-drunk self.
"Yeah, nope, I'm not having my ass groped three times in one minute by someone I'm not fucking," declares Hyunjin, whom Minho is dancing with. "Is Joonwoo-ssi here?"
"Yup. He should be at the parking lot," answers Chan since Minho is too busy having a staring contest with the colorful party lights. "I'll tell Seonie we're going. Let's just meet at the front door."
Hyunjin and Changbin each take one of Minho's arms to help their wobbly friend walk before navigating their way out of the crowd. Even if Minho insists he's fine, he's "doodily dandy," whatever the hell that means, his slurred speech sucker-punches his claims. Chan catches up to them before they can get to the doors because of how slow their pace is.
"I'll carry him on my back, and you two walk ahead to find his car," says Chan, crouching down.
"This hyung is really something," comments Changbin as he and Hyunjin work together to drape Minho over Chan. "He's the one with the best love life in this group yet he gets smashed on a Thursday?"
"'M not the only one," mumbles Minho. "Seung… Seungmin-ssi and—"
"Now he's just saying some mumbo jumbo," Hyunjin blurts out. "He really needs to go home. You good, hyung?"
"Yeah, I got him." With his hands supporting Minho's legs, Chan stands up with minimal effort. He stays steady on his feet as he follows the other two who are on the lookout for a white Mercedes. Changbin spots it parked along the tree-lined road serving as the private property's entrance and exit. He and Chan help one another in making sure Minho is seated comfortably in the backseat and has his seatbelt on, while Hyunjin chats up Joonwoo about stopping by a pharmacy for anti-hangover drinks.
"The wedding's over?" asks Minho just as Changbin is about to close the door.
"For you it is," says Hyunjin from behind Changbin.
Minho looks at the empty seat beside him and pouts at his friends. "Where's my Jisungie, then? We have to consummate our marriage tonight."
Chan and Changbin dissolve into laughter, and Hyunjin looks on in disbelief of how extremely lovestruck his friend is. The latter then takes out his phone to record the moment in his tea calendar, saying, "I can't wait for the day I get to reveal this to Jisung-ssi."
"Minho-ya, your husband's already at your condo," says Chan, playing along, "so you should go there straight away, alright?"
Minho replies with a nod. "Okay. Thank you for sharing our special day with us, you guys." The way he stretches the last syllable in a sweet tone is so out of character that the other three have to put in extra effort not to break the intoxicated illusion while they're bidding their farewell.
Now alone with his thoughts, Minho calms down and considers taking a nap since the drive from Gangneung to Seoul is two and a half hours. But when he looks at his phone's lock screen, his drunken stupor temporarily clears, and he realizes that his estimated arrival time coincides with the end of the workday, which means…
"Joonwoo-ssi," he says with his eyes closed, ready to doze off, "please wake me up once you've returned from the convenience store. I'd like to make a quick detour before heading home."
"Yes, sir."
JISUNG
Ask anyone who knows Yongbok what his most unique feature is, and they'll tell you the same answer right off the bat: his Mariana Trench-deep voice that contradicts his sweetheart appearance. At the moment, however, he's screeching in notes only beluga whales can detect while crushing Jeongin in a side bear hug because it's the only way he can channel his cute aggression over Jisung's account of his date.
"That's the end, right?" confirms Jeongin. "Yongbokie-hyung will let me have full use of my lungs now?"
"That's out of my control," says Jisung, chuckling when Yongbok gives their younger friend a final squeeze prior to releasing him.
"You should've asked him to come up!" complains Yongbok, sounding devastated. "Why didn't you?! And don't give me your first-date virginity rule," he adds when Jisung is about to protest, "because you were totally fine breaking your no-kissing rule."
"He caught me unawares."
Jeongin frowns while sipping his cucumber juice. "What was that? He caught your underwear?"
"That is accurate and the only explanation I'll accept," laughs Yongbok.
Jisung sighs, knowing there's no use downplaying his attraction to Minho. "Okay, so I wanted him to kiss me," he confesses, to the other two's utter delight, "but I'm not looking for someone just to warm my bed, and I need to know that he's the same. I'm too old and emotionally exhausted to be seeing people who have no intention of staying."
"That's a good attitude to have these days," says Jeongin. "The dating pool isn't getting any better, you know. Yongbokie-hyung, we should go on dates, too."
Yongbok's smile gets bigger. "Are you asking me out, baby?"
Jeongin makes a face. "I don't like roleplaying as foreplay, hyung."
"Do you still use costumes for that?" asks Jisung. It's been a few years since Yongbok had last brought up his preferences in bed while they were playing truth or dare, so an update is a must.
"Just shirts and accessories," answers Yongbok. "I can't afford full outfits anymore."
"Fucking inflation affects even people's sex lives. Tsk." Jisung traps a piece of meat between his chopsticks. "Jeongin-ah, where's Kim Seungmin again? He called in sick, you said?"
Jeongin nods. "He can't walk properly." Yongbok and Jisung make the same nasal sound of surprise. "I told him he doesn't have to bottom if he doesn't want to, but he said he couldn't help it and showed me a photo of Hyunjin-hyung. I told him to start shopping for a butt plug."
"A chronic top simping to the point of allowing himself to be railed—such a modern love story," remarks Yongbok before having some kimchi.
"Crap," says Jisung when he spots the time on the restaurant's wall clock. "We have thirteen minutes."
As if a switch has been turned on, the three men practically inhale all the rice, meat, and side dishes before them. Jeongin loses in rock, paper, scissors, so he's the one who has to go to the counter to pay for the meal. He says goodbye to them at the door because his office building is in the other direction. Jisung does another time check that tells him and Yongbok that they should resort to power walking.
The second half of the shift goes by quickly with all the tasks Jisung has to finish. In brief moments of idleness, his mind wanders to thoughts of Minho: the intensity of his gaze, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, and that goddamn mouth of his that he'd used to kiss Jisung senseless.
Jisung should bring up their next date soon. It being up in the air is driving him nuts.
"Ya, don't buy tanghulu today, alright?" goes Jisung hours later as he and Yongbok prepare to go their separate ways home. "Eating it daily is the quickest road to diabetes. And cavities!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," responds Yongbok. "Help me find a man so I can keep my oral fixation in check."
"Disgusting. Fine. See ya, Bok."
"See ya, Ji."
Jisung is the fourteenth person in line at the bus stop, and he's able to get on the third bus, albeit without a seat. There's rap music playing in his earphones just loud enough for him to still hear his surroundings for safety's sake. The ride is short given that there's not much traffic yet, so he orders jajangmyeon and fried dumplings for takeaway at a family restaurant close to his apartment and takes his time walking two blocks.
With the sun having just set, the sky is dim, but the streets are illuminated well where Jisung goes. The glass double doors of his apartment building soon come into view, and he sees someone on his phone standing in front of them. He has to look away, though, when he gets a KakaoTalk notification.
ehlomein: not to sound like a stalker but are you perchance home right now?
Jisung reads the message, glances at the stranger with a cap blocking his face, rereads the message, and then smiles as their proximity lessens with each step, allowing him to confirm his suspicion. But instead of calling out, he sends a reply.
hannie_shalalala: are you perchance the one blocking the entrance? hey it lowkey rhymes
The other man looks up. It's Minho. "You're a natural poet."
"I'll write and dedicate a piece to you someday," says Jisung. "Have you been here long?"
"Mmm…twenty minutes give or take?"
Jisung's heart does a somersault. "And may I ask why you're here?" he asks, unable to suppress his grin.
"To deliver this." Minho moves his left hand from behind his back to reveal the extra-small gray elephant plush toy he's holding. It has black oval eyes, a thick body, and stubby legs. Jisung melts upon seeing it. "I'll be busy again tomorrow onward, so I wanted to let you know that I'm not going anywhere and that the second date will happen no matter what. As long as you have this elephant, you have me."
With the stuffed animal in his hand, Jisung drowns in a surge of emotions. How could someone this sweet and thoughtful exist, and why had they not met sooner? Yongbok's words echo in his head. Jisung decides to heed them. "Would you like to come up for a hot drink? I can't send you away cold like this."
"So eager to get rid of me again," teases Minho, "but yes, that would be nice." Being the gentleman he is, he carries Jisung's bag of food for him.
"Sorry about the nonexistent elevator," says Jisung when they start going up the stairs. "I think that's what made the rent more affordable."
"No worries. I have stamina for these things. And in general."
Jisung pretends he isn't getting hot and bothered. "I don't doubt that one bit. Your legs are insane, too."
"You pointed out my legs yesterday as well. I assume they're your favorite body parts of mine?"
"Wrong because everything's my favorite," returns Jisung, looking ahead so he can stay calm. "At least that's the verdict for what I've seen so far."
"Are you planning to see more tonight?" asks Minho in a purposely sleazy manner.
"No. I'm a man of principle, and this isn't our second date."
"It could be if we both agree it is."
"I'm not that easy, hyung."
"Well, I am."
Jisung stops at the step he's on to show Minho, who's already chuckling, how his jaw has dropped because of the remark. "So you don't mind ruining your image for the sake of flirting?"
Minho shrugs. "I'm just being honest. And why would I even play hard to get if I'm already sure you want me as much as I want you?"
"Don't be presumptuous," says Jisung as he starts climbing again. His face is getting too warm for his liking. "Just because you have the looks of a supermodel and a heart of gold doesn't mean I'm gonna keep going out with you. How sure are you that I don't have five other suitors?"
"Should I also learn to juggle for you to date me exclusively?"
"And at least ten magic tricks. Those are hella important in any long-lasting relationship."
"Noted and done. Consider yourself mine, Han Jisung."
Jisung shakes his head to feign mild annoyance and bites only the right corner of his bottom lip so Minho won't notice how affected he truly is. They take the last flight of stairs in comfortable silence, and neither man says anything even after the door of the apartment automatically locks itself behind them.
Jisung has switched on only the ceiling light at the foyer, so the rest of the space is in semidarkness. To the right is a three-door hidden closet, and to the left is a three-tier shoe organizer with space for four more pairs. On top of the rack is a Calathea in a matte black pot as well as a Totoro key holder depicting a forest scene. Jisung hangs his set of keys on one of the leafless tree's branches and sets the elephant plushie next to it before taking the bag from Minho and putting it on the same counter.
Minho blinks at the odd placement. "Aren't you gonna—"
"It can wait." Jisung faces Minho and slightly pushes him against the door. "But I can't." He then kisses him with no pretense, his impatience winning over his fake conservativeness. Understandably, Minho is stunned at first, though he recovers in a heartbeat, kissing Jisung back with the same amount of pent-up enthusiasm. Jisung's hands slide down Minho's chest to clumsily unbutton his suit jacket, which its owner shrugs off and allows to land on the white marble tiles bearing gray veins.
Minho removes his slip-on dress shoes without using his hands, and Jisung does the same before walking backward, taking the other man with him farther into the apartment. Their socked feet move from cold tiles to more neutral wood flooring. They separate when Jisung leaves Minho on the Tuscany yellow two-piece sectional sofa to turn on the swing arm wall lamp.
Meanwhile, Minho tugs at Jisung's hooded jacket so it's half off as soon as their lips find each other again. Jisung ends up kneeling on the floor between Minho's thighs, which he doesn't hesitate to squeeze lovingly. He then pulls Minho by the waist right to the edge of the couch so they're as close as can be.
Minho loosens his tie, leaves it dangling around his neck because he becomes too busy undoing the first three buttons of the other's white shirt. Jisung lets out a sound of approval as he feels fingers stroking his nape and the shell of his left ear. He adjusts his position accordingly when Minho raises himself off the couch without pulling away, which ends in him lying on his back while being straddled. The sounds of their incessant kissing and the occasional whimper fill the studio.
The one who breaks the contact is Minho, who kisses his way along Jisung's jawline and neck. Jisung takes that opportunity to speak.
"Did you eat apples at the wedding?"
Minho sits up with a shy expression. "Apple juice," he answers. "I wanted to mask the taste of the hangover drink I had in case, you know, we kissed again."
Wide-eyed, Jisung lifts himself up on his forearms. "You're drunk?!"
"Just a bit tipsy," clarifies Minho, resting his hands on Jisung's shoulders. "I was able to sleep in the car for a couple of hours, so I'm more sober. Kinda. I'll remember this, don't you worry."
"Please give me a heads-up next time, hyung. I don't want you to do anything when you're not sober that you might regret."
"The only thing I regret is not having more time for you." Minho starts leaning forward most likely to resume their make-out session, but Jisung's stomach chooses that moment to let both men know that it's empty and demands to be filled. Jisung's head falls back in embarrassment while Minho snickers. "Should the very first thing I do every time we meet is to feed you?"
"I didn't have my usual afternoon snack today," goes Jisung, sounding helpless. "Do you wanna share my dinner? I'll be having jajangmyeon."
"No, I'm fine. There was a lot of food at the reception."
"How about dessert? I have cheesecake."
Minho goes silent for a second. "I never say no to cheesecake. And pudding."
"Alrighty then." Though Jisung wants to move, there's one problem. "Hyung, you're still sitting on me."
"Would you prefer to sit on me, specifically my face?"
"Hyung!" whines Jisung, prompting the other to laugh and stand up. He hangs his and Minho's jackets on hooks behind the door, retrieves his food, and turns on the three pendant lights above the rectangular table as well as the under-cabinet lighting in the kitchen.
"Wow…" says Minho as he takes in the entirety of the now well-lit space. "This is one of the nicest apartments I—oh my gosh, that was the bed?!" He approaches the furniture only inches from the sofa. It's a double bed that's been pushed right into the corner, but what's unique about it are the wooden room divider made up of individual poles lining its right side and the floor-to-ceiling curtain along its bottom edge. "Whoever designed this apartment is a genius."
"Hit the switch closest to you," instructs Jisung, who's taking out a half-eaten cake from his small refrigerator.
When Minho does as he's told, muted lighting reveals a recessed shelf on the wall where the headboard should be. The only items on it are an upright row of five mangas, a cow-shaped tissue holder, and three small figurines: Calcifer, No-Face, and a tree spirit. "Let me guess—you've watched all Studio Ghibli films."
"Haven't you?" asks Jisung in the middle of plating the dessert.
"I've seen some of the popular ones, like Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away, but I know I'm still missing a lot, especially the older stuff." Minho turns off the bed lights—Jisung secretly appreciates the effort to conserve energy—and joins Jisung at the dining table, where he finds that their chairs are across from each other. "You won't sit next to me?"
Jisung smiles, having already expected the question. "I'd rather look at you." He finds himself at the receiving end of a highly satisfied smirk.
Their conversation while eating and then having some tea afterward can't be properly summarized since they flit from one topic to the next. Jisung is still amazed at how easy it is to talk with Minho. He doesn't have to assess whether the next thing he says will be uninteresting or a turnoff because Minho welcomes every statement he makes, his tone and expressions lacking any sort of judgment or malice. Being with him feels comforting, familiar even, which is why it's excruciating for Jisung to let him leave.
"If I say that this is our second date, will you stay?" he asks, seeing no harm in trying.
Though Minho is already wearing one shoe, he stops himself from putting the other on and makes steady eye contact with Jisung. "I have to get up before sunrise. My alarm will wake you."
"I don't even wake up to my own alarm."
"So how do you get to the office on time?"
"By the skin of my teeth." To strengthen his invitation, Jisung adds, "I have a spare toothbrush. It has a tongue scraper. And I just did the laundry, so my boxers are as good as new. I have one with cute snails on it and another with a pattern of my face."
Minho scrunches his nose when he laughs. Jisung would perish on the spot if he goes home now. "Why do you have that kind of underwear?"
"It was a gag birthday gift. I've had it since college, but the quality of the material's so good that it's never had holes or anything."
It takes five more seconds of intense staring and silent thinking for Minho to say, "I'm gonna step outside to make a quick call, and when I come back, those glorious boxers better be ready for me to wear."
Jisung nods, grinning brightly, and waits for Minho to exit the apartment before opening the closet at the other side of the door and looking for the boxers, a loose long-sleeved shirt, and sweatpants. He places those in a neat stack on the bed along with a fresh towel and a pink toothbrush. As he's about to clear the table, the melodic doorbell goes off.
"Honey, I'm home," greets a happy-looking Minho when the door is opened for him, causing Jisung to smile for the nth time. Jisung sets out his extra pair of indoor slippers for the other to wear and returns to the dining area. "Oh, hey, I'll deal with that," says Minho when he sees Jisung carrying the tableware to the sink. "Go wash up or whatever cuties like you do at this hour."
"You're the guest," counters Jisung while trying not to blush at the compliment. "You should be the one washing up or whatever runway models do at this hour. Go. Shoo. The boxers are on the bed."
Minho doesn't need to be told twice because he changes direction and scurries away at once. He lifts the underwear to eye level and howls at the meme-worthy face cutouts on the cloth. "If you never see this again, I swear I had nothing to do with it."
"Sure, hyung." Because Jisung is facing away, he only hears Minho pick up his stuff and walk to the bathroom, the door of which is beside the shoe rack. "You can use any product in there," he calls out. Minho hums in reply and disappears into the bathroom. Seconds later, the shower starts running.
With all the chores done, Jisung prepares his own sleepwear and watches an animal documentary on his iPad while waiting in order to distract himself from the fact that the man of his most blasphemous dreams is spending the night at his place. It's just too much for him to process. The video is discussing an eight-foot sea scorpion when Minho emerges from the bathroom in Jisung's pajamas, drying his wet hair with the towel and carrying a folded pile of his clothes and wallet.
"I was so tempted to taste your shower gel," he admits as he plops down on the couch. "It smells exactly like lemon drops."
"I get that urge every day," says Jisung. He goes to the kitchen to get a properly sized paper bag for Minho. "By the way, my Wi-Fi password is 'NY' all caps, then small caps 'pizza' with an exclamation mark instead of 'i,' followed by 'rat' but three capital Rs and the number eighteen."
"...NY pizza rat eighteen?" asks Minho while placing his belongings apart from his phone inside the bag.
"Yup. I based it off a meme I like plus a random number. It's unguessable."
"I don't think even the best minds in the CIA or MI6 will figure it out. You're a password magician."
"I know, right?" Jisung then takes his turn in the bathroom. His heart does a small leap when he notices the toothbrushes in the mushroom-shaped holder beside the sink. There's nowhere else to put them, yes, but it's been so long since he'd seen two and not one. The sight gives him hope that whatever he has with Minho isn't a fleeting thing.
Jisung comes back from the shower minutes later to Minho looking cozy and tiny with his legs up on the couch while on his phone. It's as though the other belongs in that apartment. "Are you up for a movie?" he asks. "Or do you wanna go straight to bed since you drank and all?"
"I'm flattered at how adamant you are at bedding me," teases Minho, "but it's too early. I see a Monopoly Deal deck over there." He points to the bookshelf directly attached to Jisung's computer desk. "We can do that."
"I haven't played this in ages," remarks Jisung when he retrieves the cards. He and Minho settle on opposite ends of the sofa while facing each other.
Since there's only two of them, the first round finishes quickly, with Jisung emerging as the winner. For the second round, however, it takes some time for the game to conclude because their cards are similar. Minho wins when Jisung is left with nothing but a Hotel card. The third round is more chaotic because they get into a mini argument about whether Property cards can be converted into cash (they can't, according to Naver), which prevents Jisung from blocking Minho's victory.
They raise the stakes in the subsequent rounds to stretch out the gameplay, though it gets longer also because of the two men's lighthearted goading. Jisung discovers that Minho is just as competitive as he is but always a gracious winner and never a sore loser. Past relationships have taught Jisung to take note of the most subtle green flags.
"All these wins are inflating my ego," comments Minho after the scores hit twelve against five in favor of him, "but there's something else I want you to stroke." Jisung's eyes grow wide. "My back. Let's please cuddle while watching…anything, really."
"You're a menace," says Jisung, cheeks burning, definitely not having a stroke over thoughts of stroking. "Put these away while I set up the laptop."
After turning off the kitchen and living room lights, they move to the bed, where Minho claims the only plushie there: a squishy loaf of bread with small arms and legs and a happy expression. He's squeezing the life out of it as Jisung walks over with his booted-up computer as well as his new elephant stuffed toy.
"I wanna bite this thing so bad," says Minho. "Does it have a name?"
"I've never thought about naming it. You can do that now if you want to."
"I'll think of something." Minho plumps up the loaf to restore its shape and then crushes it in his arms again. "I don't even like bread that much, but this little guy's an exception. Just look at him."
"…Should I be getting jealous?" asks Jisung in jest.
"No. Don't be ridiculous." Cupping a hand beside the loaf's invisible ear, Minho whispers loudly, "I'll kidnap you so we can elope once this goon gets knocked out."
"No one's ever called me a goon before. Congratulations on being the first." After adjusting the screen and clicking the play button, Jisung sits back on the pillows so he's side by side with Minho.
"Maybe not to your face."
Jisung slaps the other's bare foot with his own. He then places an arm around Minho's shoulders, which prompts Minho to lie on his side and place his head on Jisung's chest so he can receive back rubs.
The film is called Pig, and while Jisung had chosen it for its short runtime, he's also heard nothing but good things about it, so he hopes that neither he nor Minho would be bored by it. It turns out to be a beautifully shot, poignant film about loss and the fragility of everything one holds dear. Because Jisung starts crying toward the end, Minho sits up to grab the tissues for him.
"He loved that pig so much," says Jisung, his voice shaking and his hands clutching his elephant plushie. "How could they do that to a poor animal?"
"People can be incredibly cruel," answers Minho in a soothing tone, "which is why kindness is priceless."
Jisung dabs the tissue on his eyes and nose. "I'm sorry. Movies don't really make me cry, but when there are animals or friendship involved, the taps turn themselves on."
"It's okay," chuckles Minho. "At least now I know you transform into a five-year-old when you cry."
"Shut it." In contrast to the annoyed command, Jisung starts hiccupping. Minho tries his best not to laugh and fails in two seconds, but he makes up for it by shutting down the laptop and placing it on Jisung's desk. He also gets half a glass of water, probably so that Jisung can hydrate but not have to get up in the middle of the night to relieve himself.
Jisung blows his nose one more time before he and Minho get under the covers and lie down facing one another, each with a soft toy in his arms. Even in subdued lighting, Minho's features demand admiration, and boy does Jisung admire them in silence.
"This feels like the sleepover I never had as a kid," he says.
"Your parents didn't allow sleepovers?" asks Minho.
"There was no one for me to invite. I sucked at making friends until junior high when I met Yongbok. Everything I know about socializing, I learned from him."
Minho smirks. "Even flirting?"
"Well, that I had to learn on my own. His methods involve a lot of physical contact. I prefer using words."
"You're great with words," agrees Minho. "You had me at 'Punching Bag.'"
"That wouldn't have worked on anyone else. Just say you were super duper into me from the start." Jisung says this as a joke. He doesn't believe it one bit.
But Minho goes, "I was super duper into you from the start." The way he says it indicates his sincerity. The subtle lighting is a blessing because Jisung's blush would've been painfully apparent. "That thing about my alarm earlier… I had to mention it just in case it turned out to be a pet peeve of yours or something."
"I didn't know that could be a pet peeve."
"A guy broke up with me because he hated how early my alarm was. I told him I'd set it so my phone would just vibrate, but he said even that would wake him, and then he left."
"You know that was bullshit, right?"
"Yeah. It made things easier, though, since I didn't wanna be with someone who couldn't give me a proper reason for the breakup. I would've accepted something as simple as 'you bore me' or 'I've found someone else,' but he had to be stupid about it."
"What if his reason was that he hates cats?"
"I would've coaxed my cats to bite him and chase him out of the apartment."
Jisung giggles. "I was expecting you to say you'd dump soiled cat litter on his head."
"While he's still at my place? Not happening. The cleanup would be a nightmare."
"Oh, right. I didn't think that far ahead." Jisung lifts a hand to poke the tip of Minho's nose. "Good to know you've got looks and brains."
Minho catches Jisung's hand before its owner can pull away. He then drops a chaste kiss on each knuckle, heedless of the way he's causing the other's heart to double-time. "You're the complete package, too, jagi." He maneuvers the hand to rest on his cheek. "This is the first time I'm sleeping with a date without sleeping with a date."
"Are you about to change my mind?"
"No. Because neither of us will get any sleep otherwise."
"Should the minimum be an entire weekend?"
"From Friday evening to Monday night. We'll both file sick leaves."
"You're a freak."
A smirk appears on Minho's face.
"I like that."
It grows into a big, eye-curving smile. "Where do you want me to kiss you goodnight? It can't be the cheek again. No repeats."
Feeling mischievous, Jisung asks, "It can be anywhere? Including my big toe?" He doesn't expect Minho to answer with the affirmative because the general feet area isn't popular in terms of romance and he personally thinks it's icky, but he learns that he has once again underestimated Minho's limits.
"Right or left?"
"There's just no fazing you, is there?"
Minho shakes his head. "I'm either all in or completely out. I'm the stickiest gum you'll ever step on."
"I regret bringing feet into this," says Jisung, laughing. "Forget my toes. Kiss me here, stud." He taps his philtrum two times.
"A creative choice." Minho scoots closer prior to initiating the kiss. He's giggling as he folds his lips in to fit on the small dip between Jisung's nose and upper lip. Jisung gets worried because he can feel a bit of sweat accumulating on the area due to his giddiness, but Minho doesn't seem to mind.
The kiss lasts a good four seconds before Minho moves on to Jisung's mouth, which parts unbidden. Jisung tilts his head further back, allowing for more solid contact. His skin prickles where Minho starts lightly touching him under his shirt. Although a part of his brain panics, dreading that it'll lead to something else, the feeling goes as quickly as it had come because all Minho does is hold Jisung's bare waist and caress the area with his thumb.
Jisung smiles into the kiss and thinks about how there's no way in all circles of hell he's going to let this walking green flag of a demigod slip away.
"Sweet dreams, jagi," says Minho when they break apart.
"Dream of me, okay?" returns Jisung, grinning.
"Sure, but just so you know, I'll be returning your underwear wet." Minho openly laughs at Jisung's hollow stare.
"I feel like you're creating a new genre of pickup lines that'll only work on very specific people."
"'Very specific people,' meaning you?"
"…Goodnight, Minho-ssi." Jisung then pulls the blanket over his head and tucks some of it around himself to end the conversation. Chuckling, Minho wraps an arm and a leg around Jisung the Cocoon, enveloping him in a snug full-body embrace.
Jisung secretly smiles as he picks up the scents of his bath products from Minho. He still doesn't know how they've gotten here, and everything seems too good to be true, but he tells his heart all is well, all is well. He's capable of giving and receiving love even though at times he doubts how deserving he is of it. There's nothing for him to be apprehensive about.
Before he knows it, he's fallen asleep.
All is well.
MINHO
Three minutes before his alarm goes off, Minho stirs and knows immediately that he isn't in his apartment because he would've woken up to pitch darkness and not to warm light on the wall and sheets. He looks to the side and nearly mewls at Jisung sleeping soundly on his stomach, his right cheek mochi-esque as it's squished on the pillow. Minho wants to stay and mold himself against the human pompom next to him, but coming here last night had already been an indulgence, so now he has to return to his duties. His life is one big balancing act.
Minho slowly peels the blanket off, adjusts it so it covers up to Jisung's shoulders, and walks from the bed to the living area to get his phone. He manages to turn off the alarm ahead of time. To minimize noise, he carries his paper bag of clothes to the bathroom and changes into them, though he keeps Jisung's underwear on. It wouldn't be right for him to return it unwashed, and maybe he enjoys seeing the pouty Jisung face on his bulge and the funny ones on his butt cheeks.
After booking a taxi, he washes his face with water and gargles. Having dropped Jisung's pajamas in the laundry basket, he gets out of the bathroom to put his shoes on, but leaving so abruptly doesn't sit right with him.
On Jisung's desk, he finds a small notepad on which he writes a short message. He leaves it on top of the closed laptop where it would be hard to miss. When he approaches the bed, he isn't sure what kind of goodbye he wants to do. Should he risk waking the other up, or should he go ninja? He thinks about it while looking from Jisung's messy hair down to the feet that have partially escaped the blanket.
Aha.
Squatting down, Minho tries not to make a sound as he pecks the underside of Jisung's big toes. Jisung reacts with a soft hum but stays asleep. Minho sees to it that the blanket is also over Jisung's feet (which are cold to the touch), his hand grazing an ankle, before he puts on his shoes, grabs his suit jacket, and heads out. The taxi is already waiting for him when he gets to the ground floor.
Please pick me up from Seongdong today, he texts Joonwoo.
The travel time isn't that long since it's too early for heavy traffic. Once inside his apartment, Minho just removes his slacks and then begins making breakfast. He decides on something more special than usual because he's in an extra-good mood thanks to a sleeping cutie pie.
While an egg boils in the smallest saucepan he owns, Minho soaks a few slices of cucumber in apple cider vinegar and whisks together soy sauce and sesame oil to create a creamy dressing. He cuts up half an avocado as well but snacks on a few since he doesn't need much. After getting the coffee started, he toasts a slice of whole grain bread on a pan. He also puts away the ingredients he's done with so there's room on the counter for the plate where he transfers the toast and three airtight containers.
When he becomes idle, he checks on his cats using the pet camera app on his phone. An orange one, Doongie, is sitting in front of the automatic feeder he shares with Soonie, who isn't in the living room nor in the kitchen and dining area. The youngest, a gray tom named Dori, is cleaning himself on the top level of the cat tree Minho's friends had given him a couple of months ago as a housewarming gift.
Though he feels guilty for not having gone to the condominium his babies are in, he doesn't want to leave Jisung's boxers there—it's too personal of an item. In and of itself, that condo isn't home. It doesn't provide him much security. Minho stays there only to accommodate other executives and his relatives whenever he has to entertain them, like a seal doing tricks in an aquarium show.
He'd agreed to live in the condo on the condition that he'd be able to keep the apartment he already had. Even if his visits are limited to weekends and brief drop-bys to check on the contents of the fridge, this remains his sanctuary.
The stove timer goes off, and Minho sees that the coffee is done brewing as well. He transfers the egg to a bowl of cold water before he peels it and cuts it into quarters.
On the toasted bread, he spreads a good layer of cottage cheese, tops it with the avocado, cucumber, and kimchi, drizzles everything with the dressing, and makes the dish look even more appetizing with a sprinkling of sesame seeds. He then sets the table and eats his breakfast while watching a clip from My Cat from Hell.
Taking the morning slow had been a good decision because Minho's workday begins only an hour and a half later, and he hardly gets a breather between meetings, conference calls, emails, and the proposal he'd thought of starting that day. He even has a working lunch with the president of a publishing company looking to partner with LJS Printing, so he doesn't get time for himself all day.
"You got something for you and Joonwoo-ssi, too, right?" asks Minho while checking the contents of the white plastic bag in front of him.
"Yes, buhwejangnim," answers Seongjin. "The receipt is in the bag if you'd like to check it."
"...You should've ordered more since you used the company card."
A small smile appears on Seongjin's face. "I'll take note of that for next time."
"Good. Before you go home, please call Joonwoo-ssi and inform him he can leave as well. I don't know what time I'll finish here, and he should enjoy dinner with his family. Same goes for you, Seongjin-biseo."
"On that note, you shouldn't be eating alone either, buhwejangnim."
Minho appreciates how Seongjin seems to be warming up to him. "Well, I ate dinner with the same person last night and the night before, so I can't complain."
Seongjin chuckles. "I'm glad to hear that, buhwejangnim. I hope the rest of your evening goes well."
"Get home safe now."
On his own for the first time in hours, Minho loosens his tie before moving to the black leather sofa a few feet from his desk. The oblong, white coffee table is spacious enough for his meal: a burrata caprese salad, a solo capricciosa pizza, and a slice of tiramisu. He hadn't eaten much during lunch—meetings tend to ruin his appetite.
Before he can touch his food, he remembers that he hasn't checked his KakaoTalk since morning. There are messages waiting for him in the Aussielocks and the Three Gays group chat, but those can wait because Jisung has also contacted him. His current priority list in life is as follows: 1) his cats, 2) Jisung, 3) friends, 4) food, and 5) work. Actually, work is number ten—seeing, breathing, tasting, touching, and hearing occupy the spots before it in no particular order.
hannie_shalalala: i think a creep got into my room last night and left this
The attached image is Minho's I like watching you sleep note accompanied by his drawing of Jisung sleeping that resembles a hill with the sun partially behind it, except the sun has its eyes closed and two lumps for hair.
ehlomein: when edward said that to bella she damn near creamed herself
Minho is already reading his friends' conversation about a movie they should watch at the cinema (binthere_donethat: @ehlomein bring jisung, i'll ask him which gym he goes to) when Jisung replies.
hannie_shalalala: the cow providing the milk for the cream hasn't even been born in my case
Minho laughs while typing.
ehlomein: are you on your way home now?
ehlomein: you shouldn't be texting while walking or riding the bus
hannie_shalalala: i'm waiting with yongbok at our desks
hannie_shalalala: we let most of the people in our shift leave before us, no way we're gonna be sardines in the elevator
hannie_shalalala: are you about to leave work too?
ehlomein: i have some overtime to do
ehlomein: i'm saying "some" now but honestly i don't know what time i'll be done here
hannie_shalalala: if you tell me what floor you're on maybe we can go on a little break together
ehlomein: tempting. but i really have to finish this proposal and my self-control disintegrates when i'm with you
ehlomein: you'll be the death of my career han jisung
hannie_shalalala: hey that reminds me, i still don't know your surname
ehlomein: oh shit that's right i haven't told you [XD rabbit emoji] sorry about that
ehlomein: my username is an anagram
hannie_shalalala: hold on, my brain cells can hardly be called functional after work hours
hannie_shalalala: are you
hannie_shalalala: eel minho?
ehlomein: [thumbs-up emoji] yes, i do come from a long line of aquatic animals that grew legs
hannie_shalalala: or is it ele minho? seems like a phrase in one of the romance languages
ehlomein: i can accept it since i'm romancing you right now
hannie_shalalala: you're too good at this coquette business
hannie_shalalala: oh yongbok and i havta go
hannie_shalalala: you sure you don't want me to visit you? i'm giving you one last chance to change your mind lee minho
For a split second, Minho considers giving in, especially because he wants to know what his full name sounds like coming from Jisung's pretty mouth. However, he reminds himself of the importance of what he's doing and is able to answer with i'm very sure.
hannie_shalalala: alrighty this fine ass is exiting the building
hannie_shalalala: work hard but not too hard okay!! we haven't seen each other naked yet!! take care of your health till then!!!!
Minho is endeared to the point of no return.
ehlomein: yes jagi. i'll make sure to be healthy enough to bang you to the next decade
hannie_shalalala: [shy dinosaur hiding behind a wall sticker]
hannie_shalalala: i'll look forward to that time-bending bonking
Though the short-lived chat takes away from Minho's working time, he ends up accomplishing more than he'd planned and at a faster rate than he'd estimated. He even gets to start working on the presentation he'll be giving during his pitch. When he checks the wall clock, it surprises him that over three hours have gone by without him noticing. He decides to call it a day with the intent of putting the final touches to his proposal over the weekend.
All three of his cats greet Minho at the door of his Gangnam condo. He sits cross-legged on the kitchen floor to pet and cuddle and talk to them. To reward them for behaving well in his absence, he gives them their favorite treats and plays with them until they become calm and go to their own spots in the common area.
After scooping out the clumps in the cat litter and sweeping around the litter box, Minho takes a quick shower and relaxes on the roll-arm couch. Soonie curls up next to his feet. Minho gets around to replying to his friends (ehlomein: i think i'll be out of town again next weekend, i'll check with seongjin tomorrow), and then he turns on the TV to catch up on an anime he's been watching on a weekly basis.
Ghoulish monsters are feeding on random people running around when Minho hears the KakaoTalk notification sound amid the screaming from his speakers.
hannie_shalalala: nighty night! [peach kissy face emoji]
hannie_shalalala: here's some work motivation should you need it
Living on his own is truly a blessing because as soon as Minho sees the photo that Jisung has sent, he lets out an involuntary squeal that startles Soonie. "I'm sorry, piglet." He apologizes with a few scratches on top of his cat's head prior to returning to the hysteria-inducing image on his mobile's screen.
It's a selfie. Of Jisung in bed. But that isn't the worst part. Going bonkers over a sexy photo is perfectly fine, expected even, but that's not what Minho is looking at. It's a drop-dead cute photo, an artifact that could trigger at least two wars.
Jisung is lying against the sheets, none of his pillows anywhere in sight. Half of his jet-black hair is neat, and the other half is splayed and bunched up on the bed. Although his fringe has fallen over one eye, his left eye is completely visible, and he's looking right into the camera. The sharpness of his gaze is in direct contrast to the way his hand is cupping his right cheek and the pout of his lips.
Minho wants to devour him. Figuratively and literally.
He takes a couple of deep breaths before replying.
ehlomein: i'm now at home so that's motivating me to do something else
hannie_shalalala: hahahahaha well no one's gonna stop you, especially not me [winking emoji]
ehlomein: i should return the favor. don't sleep yet
hannie_shalalala: eeeeeeyyyyyy
After turning on the arched floor lamp standing between the sofa and the armchair, Minho carries Soonie with him onto the latter to take several photos of himself holding Soonie in his arm. He chooses the best one, sends it, and gives the clueless feline plenty of kisses for putting up with him.
hannie_shalalala: gaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh
hannie_shalalala: idk which is cuter, the human or the cat [teary-eyed bunny emoji]
ehlomein: you can say we're both cute but you're only allowed to date one of us
hannie_shalalala: of course
hannie_shalalala: give me the redhead's number [blushing cat emoji]
ehlomein: oh hi i just got back from the salon, guess what my hair color is now
hannie_shalalala: how do you have a comeback for everything hahahahahahaha
ehlomein: i'm not losing you to anyone, not even my children
hannie_shalalala: relax hyung there's no competition
ehlomein: never. complacency is the enemy. i'll karate-chop imaginary people and animals if i have to
hannie_shalalala: okay bruce lee minho
hannie_shalalala: but thanks for the photo, i needed a new lock screen wallpaper
hannie_shalalala: or is that better for the home screen?
ehlomein: i'll surprise you with a selfie where i'm wearing far less clothing so you can change your home screen too
hannie_shalalala: what do you mean surprise?? what if i'm in a meeting or something????
ehlomein: practice your poker face as early as now
hannie_shalalala: i'll go on airplane mode at the office
ehlomein: i'll send you ten at a time then for your viewing pleasure while commuting
hannie_shalalala: you have the mind of a criminal sir
ehlomein: put me in handcuffs then, i won't resist
hannie_shalalala: stooooopppp hahahahah my neighbors are gonna wonder why i'm making a lot of noise rn
ehlomein: you also need to practice keeping it down jagi unless you want someone knocking on your door while we're getting busy
hannie_shalalala: that's it i'm sleeping fr
hannie_shalalala: nighty night! [peach kissy face emoji] (1)
ehlomein: [laughing duck emoji] nighty night [heart-eyed dog emoji]
Minho goes to the settings of his phone to change the lock screen wallpaper from a photo of his cats sunbathing to Jisung's selfie. His three kids would surely forgive him for doing so given their father's dismal dating record.
As he takes a few seconds to admire the image, the coziness of it makes him feel sleepy. He says goodnight to Soonie, Dori, and Doongie, goes to his bedroom while turning off the lights along the way, and gets into bed. Hugging one of the pillows, he turns onto his side and relives the previous night. Thinking about Jisung is the easiest way to trigger his happy hormones.
But it isn't enough.
JISUNG
Yongbok is already checking his emails when Jisung arrives at the office Monday morning. "Hey, man."
After turning his computer on, Jisung places the paper bag he's holding on Yongbok's desk. "I know the frosting's a bit wonky, but all I had were some plastic bags and not those metal end thingies."
"Piping tips?" guesses Yongbok.
"Yup."
"You baked something? Without burning your house down?" With a grin of disbelief and amusement, Yongbok pulls a glass container out of the bag and marvels at the six cupcakes inside. "Oh my gosh, they look so yum. Are you sure you didn't just buy these from the bakery close to the bus stop?"
Jisung gives Yongbok a what-a-friend-you-are look. "I had to watch three videos to understand what 'folding' means. You don't get to invalidate my efforts, bro."
"Okay, sorry, I believe you." By way of apology, Yongbok pats Jisung on the arm and proceeds to get a cupcake and bite into it. His eyes light up, his smile as sweet as the cake he's eating. "This is one of the best cupcakes I've eaten in my life, Ji!"
"If you're being sarcastic right now, I swear—"
"I'm not!" Yongbok stuffs the rest of the baked good inside his mouth probably to prevent any senior employee from catching him with a snack since eating is only allowed in the pantry. "I should share these with Seungminie and Jeonginie, right?" he asks after swallowing. Jisung nods. "Why'd you bake anyway? Last time we did it at my apartment, you were already complaining when we were getting all the ingredients out."
"I had nothing else to do all weekend," answers Jisung, "so I thought I could brush up on my cooking skills. I got groceries on Saturday and made lasagna with steamed broccoli. I overcooked the lasagna a little bit, but the cheese covered up the burnt taste."
"You and Minho-hyung didn't have plans?"
"Nah." Jisung opens his inbox and scans the long list of new emails before checking off the weekly company newsletters and marking them as read. "He had a lot to do, so we've only been exchanging good mornings and good nights."
"At least you know you're the first and last thing he thinks about every day."
Jisung stops what he's doing to look at his friend, who is grinning innocently. "You're really enjoying feeding my delusions, huh?"
"Please. If you think that man isn't a sure thing yet, yeah, you're definitely delusional. He's all over you."
"I don't wanna get my hopes up," says Jisung. "I'm not relaxing until he's my boyfriend—if that will ever happen. I'm an experienced ghostee, after all."
"O ye of little faith."
"I'd have more faith if God were a woman."
"Who said She isn't?"
"Dude." Jisung bumps fists with Yongbok for the profound comment. "Fine. I'll try to be more positive, but I'm not letting my paranoia go entirely. Better safe than sorry."
"Good!" says Yongbok, satisfied. "I'm not letting you eff this up. Minho-hyung's way out of your league. Who knows when another one like him will fall head over heels for you?"
Jisung stops typing. "Did you say he's way out of my league? Way?"
The expression on Yongbok's face says that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "What? He's out of my league, too."
"That still sounded like an insult."
"It's not, though," counters Yongbok.
"The damage is done." Before the other knows what's happening, Jisung stands up, traps Yongbok in a headlock, and gives him a noogie.
Yongbok knows better than to react vocally, so he takes the friendly consequence like a champ and just fixes his hair afterward. However, he also says in a softer voice, "I hope Minho-hyung starts trying for a baby with you already so you won't be this grumpy."
Jisung stops typing again.
MINHO
Just as he'd been instructed via text earlier, Seongjin is sitting on the cushioned bench outside the meeting room when the doors open and Minho walks out. "How did it go, buhwejangnim?"
"Not that it was a surprise, but only the president showed mild interest," answers Minho as they walked along the hallway, passing by other executives' offices. "That was until I discussed how the savings would be distributed to employees and not to shareholders. So in the end, they all looked at me like I'd pulled my pants down and taken a huge dump on the table."
"What will happen if none of them agree to the salary cuts?" asks Seongjin.
"Then I'll decrease my salary even further and hope that guilt hunts them down when they see that they're earning more than the second-highest-ranking executive in the conglomerate. I'm not banking on that guilt bit, though, because that would require a conscience."
Seongjin chuckles, pushing the glass door open for the both of them. "Despite the opposition, I'm still hoping your initiative will push through, buhwejangnim."
"You better pray it does—you're one of the beneficiaries." Instead of entering his office, Minho stays still as he gets an idea and says, "You know what? I deserve a treat for facing the hungry sharks today. Seongjin-biseo, I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
He debates with himself whether he should go to the Punching Bag or the Karate Kid, but his feet naturally take him to the former. Knowing he'll be doing plenty of sitting anyway when he returns, he uses the stairwell. The echoes of his footsteps indicating solitude make him smile.
As he's opening the door, he hopes that no one will be there at the lounge so he can relax. He needs to get away from people.
Well.
Except for one.
And that person happens to be semi-sitting on the back of the couch, his body turned in the opposite direction. By the sounds coming from him and the fullness of his visible cheek, he's chewing on something crunchy and likely staring into space since he doesn't seem to notice that Minho is close enough to smell his perfume.
"Jagi," seductively whispers Minho, who laughs when Jisung jumps up and turns around resembling a perturbed hamster.
"I could've choked on these!" complains Jisung, shaking his bag of sweet corn chips.
"I'll kiss your blocked trachea better if that happens."
"Yeah, that'll totally solve the problem," says Jisung with an extra dose of sarcasm. It's not long before his scowl dissolves into a smile. "Hello, you handsome devil you."
"You're not gonna call me an angel?" asks Minho as he walks around the sofa to get closer to Jisung.
"That doesn't suit you at all. And I mean that in the best way possible." Jisung points at his snack. "You want some?"
"Only if you feed me."
Jisung is visibly flustered as he grabs several pieces between three fingers and tells Minho to tilt his head back a little before dropping the chips into his open mouth. "I have around seven minutes left in my afternoon break. How do you plan on wooing me within that time limit?"
Minho pauses to think while chewing and then meets Jisung's gaze. "Did you know that there are no cameras installed in the stairwells of this whole building?"
The question piques Jisung's curiosity. "For real? I didn't notice that. How come?"
"Used to be that it was too complicated and a bit risky to install power cables and such," explains Minho, placing his hand on Jisung's back to guide him away from the lounge. "But even in the advent of battery-powered options, the building owner didn't want to shell out money for new equipment to keep an eye on areas with minimal foot traffic, so it's been left as is until now."
"But does that comply with building codes or…?"
Minho can't help smiling at how seriously Jisung is taking the mundane topic of conversation. "Cameras aren't really a requirement in stairwells because only a few people need to use them on ordinary days," he says as he opens the emergency exit door so he and Jisung can step into the stairwell. "Imagine spending millions just to watch in a span of twenty-four hours a total of seven employees just going from one floor to another and maybe two employees randomly making out."
"What?"
In the split second Jisung processes what he's heard, Minho closes the distance between them and kisses him. Jisung makes a startled noise, bamboozled in every sense of the word, but reciprocates once he grasps the situation.
Though it starts out gentle in the beginning, it gets heated soon enough: teeth clacking, tongues swirling, hands groping (minus the one Jisung is using to hold his chips), the works. They kiss until it becomes unclear which mouth is whose, until Jisung pulls back with a love-drunk expression.
"Four days of not seeing you is too much," says Jisung, slightly short of breath. "Please tell me we're on the same boat before I embarrass myself."
Minho grins, the perfect way to answer forming in his head. He starts by unbuttoning his jacket. Then, he places his hands on his belt—
"What are you doing?" hisses Jisung, who immobilizes Minho's hands with his.
"I need to show you something," replies Minho plainly.
"You swear it's safe for work?"
"Yes." After Jisung lets go, Minho unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his slacks, and pulls on his shirt to reveal the boxers he's wearing.
Jisung doesn't recognize the print right away, so he takes a closer look. Once he sees a small version of his face winking at him, he doesn't hold back in laughing. Minho giggles along with him. "Ya, you should return that to me!"
"You'll have to peel it off my body yourself," smirks Minho as he fixes his clothes. "I've been using and washing it every day since Monday. It's really comfy."
"I should have something of yours to carry with me always, too," says Jisung. "You don't happen to have self-meme boxers, do you?"
"I don't. I'll think of something to give you." Minho leans forward to whisper into Jisung's ear, "Know that when we're not together, you're in my heart. And around my junk and trunk." He snickers upon receiving a light slap on the shoulder.
Jisung checks his phone. "Time's up, hyung. I'll see you…when I see you, yeah?"
"One more for the road," says Minho before kissing Jisung again, which is easy because the other already has his head tilted up just so, a product of their minimal height difference. No matter how many times they do this, it causes Minho's heart to rocket up his throat. If he could, he would spend the rest of his life exploring every sweet crevice of Jisung's delectable mouth.
At the end of it, Jisung goes up the stairs backward so he can keep blowing kisses to Minho, and then he's gone. Minho waits for him to make an exit prior to doing it himself.
"How was the treat, buhwejangnim?" asks Seongjin when they reconvene in Minho's office.
"The best I ever had," says Minho, grinning knowingly. "I had to have it twice, it was so good."
JISUNG
Luck hasn't been generous to Jisung. He has never won in lotteries and raffles. The one time he forgot to bring an umbrella, it rained lions and wolves. He's also been splashed several times by vehicles running over puddles. Many of his clothes have stains on them due to mini accidents. The list goes on.
So of course he doesn't understand why in the next two weekdays, he randomly encounters Minho: first, at the ground-floor lobby after work (they head to the nearest convenience store to talk over fish-shaped ice cream and hot bars); and second, in the elevator before work (Jisung strategically stands in front of Minho, who's standing at one corner, so they can hold hands without being seen).
Though the weekend brings him down because of Minho's business trip, they run into each other outside the building on Monday, in front of the Karate Kid on Tuesday, and at the Not-So-Secret Garden on Thursday. The third time takes the longest, leading up to dinner at a barbecue restaurant.
"Hyunjin told me he and your friend Seungmin are getting quite serious," says Minho after they give their orders to the waiter.
"It's annoying that we have to figuratively waterboard Seungmin just to know that," remarks Jisung. "But him wanting to be extra private about something is a good sign. He does that for things he values."
"Are you the same way?"
Jisung pours cold water into his and Minho's classes. "No. I yap about things I love. I yap about you." When he looks back up at Minho, the man is grinning at him in a peculiar way. "What is it?"
Minho's eyes become smaller the more he smiles. "You love me?" he asks.
Jisung is about to frown, but his brain catches on, and he slaps a hand over his mouth. "I didn't mean—"
"You didn't?" repeats Minho, sounding dejected.
Crisis management is not a skill Jisung has bothered to learn. Should he lie or tell the truth? Which path is riskier, less damaging? He really likes Minho, he's the reason he could almost believe in a higher power, but it's too early to hint at anything even remotely love-shaped. Doing so might come off as either desperate or superficial. Still, what if Minho wants to be told such a thing? There are people like that, right? But how would Jisung know—
"I'm kidding, Jisung-ah," says Minho as though he's hearing Jisung's internal monologue. "We could go on a hundred dates, and I still wouldn't expect you to say that."
"...I wouldn't go on a hundred dates with someone I didn't already love, though."
"How many dates have we had so far? I believe this is the ninety-eighth one."
Jisung giggles, his cheeks warming up. "Yup, that's my count, too."
Two waiters come to the table with their food, but their presence doesn't stop Minho from saying, "Let's see who reaches the finish line first."
Jisung smiles. He doesn't think it's going to be him.
His conviction dwindles when Minho decides to wink in his direction.
MINHO
"Oh my God, finally you invited him over," comments Hyunjin over the phone. "I was close to thinking you were saving yourselves for the honeymoon. Celibacy doesn't suit you, hyung."
"I don't know if anything's gonna happen," says Minho, pressing the '15' button on the elevator. "That's not my end goal anyway."
"It may not be your end goal, but it's your dick's for sure. How do you even do it? If I were dating Jisung, I'd have jumped his bones A to the S-A-P."
"His and your principles don't match up, so there'll be no bone-jumping for you."
"At least Seungmin's more sexually liberal. He gets me on a phallic level."
Minho sighs through his nose. "I wish you'd volunteer that kind of information less frequently." He watches the '10' above the doors light up, followed by '11.' "Is your man still a secret from Changbin and Channie-hyung?"
"I told Channie-hyung about him not long after I told you, but Binnie-hyung found out when he saw a hickey on my neck."
"You didn't say it was just a mosquito bite?" asks Minho while unlocking the front door of his condo.
"It was too big and discolored. He took the news better than I expected. All he did was ask questions about Seungmin, and then he threatened Seungmin using my KakaoTalk that if he hurts me, he's dead."
"Hey, you didn't let me threaten him," complains Minho. His cats follow him to the couch to receive pets.
"And I never will." Minho hears another person's voice farther in the background, to which Hyunjin says, "Yeah, just a sec." Addressing Minho again, he goes, "I'm hanging up now."
"You'll be bending over later. I get it. You're gross. Bye." Minho ends the call without waiting for his friend to stop stuttering.
Since there's leftover lasagna and a chopped salad in the fridge from the previous night, it doesn't take long for Minho to start eating in front of the television, on which an anime Jisung had recommended playing. It's action-packed and fast-paced, just how he likes it.
As the intro song comes on for the next episode, the doorbell goes off with a melodic chime.
Minho looks at his phone. It displays eighteen eleven. He hadn't invited anyone to his place recently apart from Jisung, and he hadn't given him his address because Minho's going to pick him up. Warily, he puts his plate down on the coffee table and approaches the intercom system next to the door to check who's at the other side.
Shit is his first thought. Fucking hell is second. He buttons up his shirt and swipes through his hair to make it neater prior to opening the door.
There stands an elegant woman a few inches shorter than him. Her onyx hair is in a sleek bun, and her makeup is flawless. A midnight blue tweed jacket with three gold buttons has been placed over her shoulders and the golden bronze half-sleeved sheath dress she has on. A blue agate Birkin is hanging from the crook of her right arm. Her facial features resemble Minho's to a great degree.
"What are you doing here, mother?" asks Minho in a tone lacking enthusiasm.
"Checking on my property," answers Mrs. Lee and walks past Minho unprompted. Minho doesn't know if she's referring to the condominium or him or both.
"If I'd known you were coming, I would've made something more substantial for dinner."
"You didn't even greet me good evening, and you expect me to believe that statement? I can see right through your false courtesies, Minho." Upon seeing Doongie, Mrs. Lee raises an eyebrow. "At least it doesn't smell like a litter box here, unlike your rental."
"I thought being micromanaged can only be experienced at work. Apparently not."
Seated at the dining table, Mrs. Lee reprimands her son with her eyes but moves on to something else. "I'd like to know what hit you on the head and gave you a serious enough concussion that made you propose a voluntary salary reduction for the company executives."
Minho tries not to smile from where he's standing next to the kitchen counter. He'd anticipated this. "Aren't you supposed to be supporting initiatives meant to save company funds?"
"Siphoning money off the members of top management and rerouting it to less important individuals is not saving company funds but wasting them."
"In what way, mother?" asks Minho. "Higher wages and better benefits result in improved productivity and employee morale, leading to increased profits for the company, which, by the way, functions because of those 'less important individuals.' You're just afraid of the backlash from stakeholders."
"You would do well to have that same fear," says Mrs. Lee. "Their generosity and support over the decades have put our company on the map. Returning the favor is the least we can do." Her stare darkens. "Then again, this isn't the first time you're biting the hand that feeds you. You're consistent, I'll give you that."
"Fishermen feed fish with the intention of capturing and killing them," returns Minho. "I don't intend on ending up on anyone's plate."
Mrs. Lee raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Well, aren't you clever? Pity you never use your cleverness when picking out a partner. History's already repeating itself."
Knowing how little respect his parents have on his and his brother's privacy, Minho isn't surprised at what he's hearing. However, he'd thought that the infrequency of his accidental and scheduled meetups with Jisung would give him more time before anyone outside his close circle of friends (and secretary) pokes their nose into his affairs. Clearly, he'd underestimated the giant African snail-level invasiveness his older relatives possess.
Calmly, Minho asks, "Which private detective agency did you approach this time?"
A most discreet smugness sweeps over Mrs. Lee's face. With a manicured hand, she unfastens her bag, pulls out a large, white envelope, and places it on the table. It's thin, but it doesn't look like it contains just one sheet of paper, either. "Surprisingly, I didn't have to look far to find out what I wanted to know. Have you still not developed the habit of doing adequate research before going out with someone?"
"I draw the line at looking for photos of them, but I can't expect you to be aware of the normal way of getting to know a person."
"I'm just looking out for you and the family, Minho, especially because you don't know how to do that yourself," counters Mrs. Lee. "I honestly thought you'd learned your lesson, but you're as blind as ever, a naïve moth drawn to a deadly flame. What's worse is you're putting the company in jeopardy by being so careless, and I can't let that happen."
Minho chuckles mirthlessly. "Now you're overreacting. My personal life and work life don't intersect."
"I beg to differ." Mrs. Lee presses two fingers on the envelope and slides it closer to Minho. "You'll go through these if you know what's good for you. I need you to see the truth and walk away before it's too late. Your father and I picked up the pieces last time. We won't do that again if your behavior stays the same."
She stands up, walks over to Minho, and adds in a grim tone, "True to his name, Han Jisung is smart, maybe even smarter than you because he's managed to wrap you around his little finger. He knows who you are, and he'll bleed you dry before you realize what's going on. No one will be there to save you then."
Minho waits for the sound of the door's automatic lock before going to the table and picking up the envelope to throw it away. For some reason, though, he can't bring himself to do so, his hand unwilling to let the item fall into the open trash can. Frustrated, Minho leaves the envelope on the counter and opens the Aussielocks and the Three Gays chat.
ehlomein: whoever's online right now i need to call you and talk about a parental issue
In seconds, the first reply comes.
jinnie_in_a_bottle: i'm heeeeeere
ehlomein: aren't you with seungmin?
jinnie_in_a_bottle: we're just having dinner, i'm not about to miss out on you spilling scalding family tea
notjackiechan97: i'm here too [wave emoji] are you talking about your mom or dad?
ehlomein: mother with her mascaraed button eyes
binthere_donethat: ya hyunjin-ah how dare you dine with another man behind my back?!!
binthere_donethat: let's start the tea party!!
jinnie_in_a_bottle: [sweating dog emoji]
Because he can feel the stress coming on, Minho decides to sit on the carpeted area of his living room and lean against the couch during the voice call. He goes right into it, sparing no details but observing conciseness. The other three don't interrupt until he finishes the story but supply reactions such as oh my God, oh snap, and she's lost it, my guy.
"She acts like she's the one with exploitative exes," remarks Hyunjin. "Her paranoia's out of control. I know a psychiatrist she can go to for help."
"What do I do with the envelope?" asks Minho as he watches Dori come out of the bathroom to play with Doongie. "Should I burn it? Put it in one of the litter boxes for the cats to shit on?"
"If you believe Jisung doesn't have anything to hide, I think looking at the document won't make any difference," answers Chan. "But if you do it and not see anything sinister, then it's only fair that you tell Jisung about it."
"I'm gonna have to disagree," says Changbin. "Minho-hyung, by doing what your mother wants you to do, you're taking her side and betraying Jisung's trust. Surely there's nothing in there that he himself can't tell you if you just ask, so I say get rid of that envelope and forget about it."
"She's using your past against you," comments Hyunjin. "Jisung's a decent guy with decent friends. Sorry not sorry, but your past boyfriends all had shady vibes. Jisung doesn't."
"Are you referring to that guy you're cheating me with?" asks Changbin, half-serious.
"Hello," says a new voice from Hyunjin's line. "Hyunjin told me to say 'yes.'"
"Have you had us on speaker mode this entire time?" asks Minho, ready for amicicide if it comes to that.
"Chill." It's Hyunjin again. "I just handed him my phone. He hasn't fucked me enough times to earn a seat at our private tea table."
"It's all up to you, Minho-ya," says Chan, ignoring the side comments. "Do what you think will give you peace of mind. Be careful, though, since all the stuff your parents had dug up about your exes was correct. There's a chance that whatever new thing you discover will change how you perceive Jisung, for better or worse."
"Well, the bar's super high," goes Changbin. "Jisung would have beige flags at the very least."
"The witch was spooked, though," says Minho, his mom's words still on his mind. "Whatever she found out compelled her to talk to me in person, which she hasn't done since I was sworn in as vice chairman."
Hyunjin clicks his tongue. "Oh please. Everything that doesn't align with her backward values scares the shit out of her. Brokeback Mountain 's her version of The Descent."
"You could've picked a less traumatizing horror film, Hyunjin-ah," complains Chan with a groan. "I'll be having nightmares about that again."
"Jesus on a mini pony. Final Destination. There. Is that enough to cancel your nightmares, you beefy baby?"
"We're more comfortable with movies like Bird Box and The Mist," says Changbin.
"It's unfortunate you two can't grow your courage with protein and workouts."
"I'd like to go back to my life crisis, if at all possible," interjects Minho.
"My bad," apologizes Chan. "Maybe you should sleep on it, figure out what to do with it once you've recovered from your mom's…unpleasant presence?"
"He'll have to do it fast 'coz he's seeing Jisung tomorrow," informs Hyunjin.
"Shit." Changbin lets out a big exhale, probably to calm himself. "Alright. I've thought of a question that'll help with your decision." He pauses for none other than dramatic effect. "If it's stated in the document that Jisung committed—"
"Yes" is Minho's quick reply.
"Listen to the whole thing at least?!"
"I don't need to," says Minho with confidence. "If he's a criminal, then I'll get him the best lawyer. Or we can be gay Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. We'll start a life of crime together."
Minho can visualize Changbin shaking his head when he goes, "Chaos is your thing. I forgot about that for a second."
"That pretty much settles it," concludes Chan, sounding more positive. "You and your mom tolerate different things, so it's not a good idea to infer what the document contains based on her reaction alone. Who knows? You might find Jisung even more attractive once you see the skeletons in his closet."
"Your life will go from romcom to K-drama to romantic horror," chuckles Hyunjin. "I swear, hyung, your love story is one for the books. It should be turned into a movie."
"Minho-hyung, how come you hooked Hyunjinie up with someone but left me out?" whines Changbin. "I deserve some lovin', too!"
"I'm not a human dating app," responds Minho sourly.
"Seungie says they have a single friend who's into buff men," chimes Hyunjin. "His name's Bok—what's that?—Yong…okay, yeah. Lee Yongbok."
"That's Jisung's best friend and coworker," adds Minho.
Changbin gasps. "And you didn't push him my way?!"
"I didn't know he was looking. Jisung isn't out there pimping his single friends, you know."
"I'll send you his number later," says Hyunjin.
"So what're you gonna do, Minho-ya?" asks Chan.
Having returned to the kitchen, Minho picks up the envelope and glares at it. There are no writings or markings on the outside; the plainness of it seems to be coaxing him to give in and satisfy his curiosity. It would be so easy to just push the flap open, get it over with, but would the possible consequences be worth it?
He thinks about how joyful and smooth-sailing his days have been with Jisung so far and how that could morph because of the thing in his hand. The document is meant to ruin what they have, he's certain, because his parents are allergic to their own children's happiness; they've proven that time and time again.
However, it's equally true that they'd helped him uncover ugly truths about his most recent ex, the one who'd abused his generosity the most, enabling him to lead his current life. It had obviously been for their sake since the heir they'd doted on since birth had let them down for the first and last time, and Minho had been the only other alternative. Still, it had proven that fabricating lies is beyond them despite their antagonistic ways.
The choice is fundamentally between bliss in ignorance and discomfort—or perhaps something worse—in enlightenment.
"I'll do what I should've done minutes ago."
JISUNG
yong_wild_n_free: not even deodorant??!?
hannie_shalalala: nor a toothbrush
hannie_shalalala: he said i just have to bring my '"stupid hot self" [watery-eyed cat emoji]
sseeuunnggmin: why is it okay when he calls you stupid but when i do it you smack me? :(
hannie_shalalala: i'd smack you if technology would allow it
yong_wild_n_free: [XD duck emoji] [XD duck emoji] [XD duck emoji]
innielicious: i was gone for a few hours and now a fight's breaking out? [popcorn emoji]
yong_wild_n_free: don't encourage them lmaaaooo
sseeuunnggmin: i have to be living with someone before i put on their underwear, ick
hannie_shalalala: but you'd blow them within an hour, right?
sseeuunnggmin: if they're as gorgeous as hyunjin why not
innielicious: and if seungminie-hyung has had at least four tequila shots lol
yong_wild_n_free: hasn't he done that several times sober………?
sseeuunnggmin: past is past. I'm a changed man. monogamy 5ever
hannie_shalalala: i'm sorry did we travel back to the 2010s? who's still saying 5ever?
innielicious: i miss manwhore-hyung who never used 5ever [crying emoji]
yong_wild_n_free: [XD duck emoji] seungminie you've changed too much [XD duck emoji]
Just then, a banner notification appears at the top of the screen. It's a message from Minho saying that he has arrived in front of the apartment.
hannie_shalalala: my knight in shining auto is here later hoes
yong_wild_n_free: have fun jiiiiiiii [heart emoji] [heart emoji] [heart emoji]
innielicious: don't forget protection hyung!!!!
sseeuunnggmin: try to tone down the porn star noises
After grabbing his small crossbody bag, Jisung scurries out of the apartment while responding to Minho.
ehlomein: i'm here jagi let's elope :*
hannie_shalalala: i'm flying down the stairs with my worldly belongings :*
The car Jisung sees on the street is a black sedan, specifically a Chevrolet Malibu if he were to look it up. As he walks toward it, the passenger-side window slides down to reveal Minho smiling with the warmth of a picture-perfect spring day.
"Did you pack your couch?" asks Minho once Jisung is seated.
"Yup, including the pillows." It's then that Jisung notices how laidback Minho's outfit is: a hunter green ribbed sweater over a white high-neck shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans. The look is foreign considering that every time they meet, Minho is in corporate attire.
"Are you checking me out?" teases Minho.
"I'm just previewing what's on the menu tonight," answers Jisung, who laughs when Minho's mouth hangs open. "Are we going, or do you plan on making babies here?"
Minho appears as though he's about to agree to the latter, but he puts the car into gear instead and drives off.
"So where do you live?" asks Jisung at the first stoplight. The only thing he knows about Minho's place of residence is that there's a four-tier tower and an exercise wheel for his cats.
"Not far from here," says Minho. "At the Seocho District."
The name causes Jisung's eyes to become even rounder than usual. Seocho is a crazy-expensive area with crazy-rich residents. Although Jisung shouldn't be too surprised considering that Minho is in a management position, he hadn't expected him to be that loaded. He suddenly feels self-conscious and wonders if Minho had judged his apartment during his impromptu visit.
"You okay?" asks Minho, perhaps seeing the depth of Jisung's conflicted expression.
"Yeah," says Jisung, trying to sound like himself. "I can't wait to meet your feline children."
Not even fifteen minutes later, they're at the underground parking lot of a high-rise building, and all Jisung sees are sports and luxury cars. He figures it'd be rude to ask why Minho's sedan is ordinary compared to his neighbors', so he keeps the question to himself, but he's curious about it nonetheless.
They ride the elevator up to the fifteenth floor and turn the right corner. The second door is Minho's. His feline children, as it turns out, aren't as excited as Jisung about the first meeting. Even if they start sauntering toward Minho upon his arrival, they back away the moment they spot the stranger invading their territory.
The cold welcome doesn't deter Jisung from smiling at the cats and giving them an I-come-in-peace wave. They quietly judge his misplaced enthusiasm and keep their distance.
"Dori might be friendlier later," informs Minho, putting out two pairs of slippers for himself and Jisung. "He's the least suspicious one. The other two have guard-dog energy." He also takes Jisung's bag to place it in the entryway closet.
"It's cool. Bbama jumps on me whenever I go to my parents' house. I'm not saying no to peaceful interaction." With his attention off the cats, Jisung marvels at the condominium beyond the foyer. It's at least four times bigger than his place, and the interiors are stunning, not a piece of furniture out of place. The color schemes and decor complement each other well. Jisung feels as though he has stepped into a movie set.
"A professional did everything," explains Minho, once again seemingly reading Jisung's mind. "My parents own this unit. They let me move in so the commute to the office wouldn't be bothersome."
Wealthy parents and a high-paying job—now everything makes more sense, thinks Jisung. He should be in his best behavior lest his clumsiness results in him breaking something costlier than his monthly paycheck. "Should I have brought wine or…a cheese wheel?"
Minho shakes his head. "I'm not a fan of requiring guests to bring gifts. Oh, we can have wine tonight if you'd like. I have a few bottles, but I haven't touched them 'coz I don't enjoy drinking on my own."
"I never developed a taste for wine," says Jisung, walking to the framed glass door with sidelights that leads to a small balcony and shows a spectacular view of the city and the nearby mountains. "And alcohol in general. I'll take any fruit juice you have, though."
"…Has anyone told you that you're too cute for your own good?" Jisung hears but doesn't see Minho come closer to hug him from behind and start stamping his neck with feathery kisses as he's talking. "Okay, here's the plan."
"I'm listening." 'Listening' is overstating it because Jisung is heavily distracted by the other kissing him and rubbing his belly through his midnight blue hoodie.
"I'll make us lunch—"
"I'll help."
Minho's breath tickles Jisung when he chuckles. "We'll make lunch, eat it while watching a surprise Ghibli film"—Jisung gasps—"get coffee and dessert at a nice cafe close by, maybe walk outside a bit if it isn't too cold, come back either to make out or take a nap—"
"Or both."
"Prepare dinner, then watch another movie. How's that sound?"
"Sounds like you're deliberately making it impossible for me to leave tomorrow."
"Mmm. I'm bolting the doors and windows shut later."
"I believe that would fall under the purview of kidnapping."
"Since I'm feeling virtuous, I'm giving you at the count of ten to make your escape. One…"
Grinning, Jisung faces Minho without breaking the embrace. "I have Stockholm syndrome. Escaping isn't a consideration at this point." His eyes fall close upon kissing Minho, who gently pushes down on the small of Jisung's back to render the distance between them nonexistent. It feels so good like this that all Jisung wants to do is forget about Minho's proposition and spend the rest of the day with him buck naked.
But because men as wholesome as Minho are rarer than black opal, Jisung doesn't allow his libido to get the best of him. He's able to thank himself later for his self-control as he thoroughly enjoys their activities.
Minho teaches him how to roll a wrap so the stuffing doesn't fall out. Dori comes around as they're lining up the ingredients to be placed inside the tortilla, and Jisung squats down to give her a small piece of boiled chicken. The cat shows his gratitude by rubbing his body against Jisung's leg before walking away.
"I think I just made a friend," says Jisung with a triumphant smile, which Minho reciprocates.
Lunch is parmesan pesto chicken wraps with a side of potato wedges. Jisung and Minho bring the food with them to the living room, where Soonie is sleepily resting on the armchair. Once again, Jisung tries not to appear as awestruck as he actually is over the seventy-five-inch television on the opposite wall. It's harmless enough in shiny void mode, but when the screen comes to life, Jisung feels like he's being swallowed by the 8K display.
The film Minho has chosen is The Secret World of Arrietty. Jisung has seen it at least four times. It's an entirely different experience, though, from when he's watching it on his laptop due to the humongous TV and the surround sound from invisible speakers, not to mention that he's sitting next to the reincarnation of Narcissus. Had they been alive, Michelangelo and Bernini would no doubt collapse upon catching sight of Mother Nature's magnum opus: Minho's profile. Jisung takes care not to ogle him.
"The TV's over there, Jisung-ah," smirks Minho half an hour into the movie.
Some things are easier said than done.
At the conclusion of Arrietty (which Minho has enjoyed), Jisung and Minho put their dishes in the sink before saying goodbye to the cats and walking to the cafe at the building next door. It has just enough space for seventeen seats, six of which are taken when the two men arrive. All the chairs, tables, counters, and shelves are made of wood, and the furnishings are busy, haphazard, yet charming. It's love at first sight and smell for Jisung.
Minho is the one who gives their order to the waiter: hot honey cinnamon coffee, a hot cafe mocha, a hazelnut brownie, and a slice of burnt Basque cheesecake. They then talk about their favorite scenes in Arrietty and other animated movies Minho hasn't seen but Jisung would gladly rewatch with him. Jisung is happy about how open Minho is to his suggestions—some exes of his had found his love for animation 'immature' and 'unfit for a grown man.'
His feelings toward those memories may have reflected on his face because Minho asks, "Are you alright?" as soon as the waiter has placed their food and drinks on the table. Although Jisung doesn't want to answer honestly out of embarrassment, the kindness and concern on the other's face push him to do so, to which Minho responds with, "Good riddance, then. You can't trust anyone who dislikes animation. I certainly don't." After a brief pause, he adds, "In grade school, I used to animate stuff on my notebooks whenever I was bored."
Jisung can't help but beam at that. "Yeah? What did you make?"
"Stupid things, simple things 'coz I can't draw worth a damn. A ball bouncing. Stick people fighting one another. The sun rising from behind two wonky mountains. My mom scolded me for it every time. She thought it got in the way of my studying."
"I'm sure we would've gotten along great as children," remarks Jisung. "I did the same thing. I doodled a lot, but it wasn't just on notebooks. I drew on anything that looked too bare for my taste: test papers, books, walls, desks, my shirts, my skin, you name it."
"You should get a tattoo, then," suggests Minho.
"I already have some," says Jisung.
Minho's right hand freezes in the middle of stirring coffee. "What'd you say?"
For a second, Jisung thinks Minho hadn't heard him, so he clears his throat with a sip of coffee before going, "I have tattoos. They're just in places that aren't as exposed as my arms."
The heavy silence that comes from Minho afterward worries Jisung, but it doesn't last long. "Thats…good to hear. Have you had them for a while?"
"I got most of them the year I turned twenty-two. I had money to spend because I was still living with my parents, so I decided to check something off my bucket list."
"I've been thinking of getting one for some time now," says Minho as he starts carving out a portion of the cheesecake with his dessert fork. "Did it hurt?"
"It made me cry in the first three sessions," snickers Jisung. "Some pains are worth going through, though. I love my tattoos." He tastes the brownie first. It's gooey and warm, and it melts in his mouth. "What kind of designs are you after?"
"Something related to my cats would be nice. And maybe dance. It's been on my mind since we talked about it on our first date."
"Oh, that's right, you mentioned it. Are you gonna pick that back up?"
Minho shrugs. "It's on the back burner for now. I want to eventually. When I'm less frazzled."
"Frazzled," repeats Jisung, his smile lopsided. "If I had your vocabulary, I'd be able to conquer the world in a month."
"Silly. 'Frazzled' is an everyday term."
"Sure, Shakespeare."
More than an hour of chatter goes by with neither man running out of things to say. They share a green tea when they've finished their own drinks. Throughout the conversation, Jisung notices details he's missed about Minho, such as the curve of his long eyelashes and the faint blemishes on his cheek—likely from his teenage years—that don't take away from his beauty at all. His crisp voice is calming to listen to; he could talk about insurance for hours, and Jisung would be hooked from start to finish. Can one fall in love in the midst of falling in love?
Jisung thinks he has the answer right in front of him.
Armed with warmth from their beverages and autumn-appropriate clothing, the two go on a stroll next, their destination being a large public park three blocks down. They're welcomed by a foliage of intermingling greens, reds, and yellows set against a clear blue sky.
"I wish I was close to a park like this," says Jisung, purposely stepping on a crunchy leaf. "All we have in our neighborhood is an unoccupied piece of land between two buildings where you can watch strays hanging out."
"That doesn't sound so bad," comments Minho. "I'd rather see animals than people."
"There's nowhere to sit on, though. The ground there's overgrown and littered with poop."
"Okay, so a park would be nice in that case." Minho tucks his hands into the pockets of his black coat. "We can come here every time you visit. You'll drop by more often, I hope?"
Jisung feels himself blushing. "If you'll have me, sure."
"I'm prepared to give you the passcode to my front door."
"As sweet as that is, I would really love for you to be less trusting of people you've only known for like a month for your own safety."
Minho stands still. "Has it already been a month since we met?"
"I think so," answers Jisung before checking the calendar on his phone. "Oops. It's one month next Friday, so no, I'm still undeserving of your passcode and will be for a while, which is fine by me."
"Hmm. I dunno. Three weeks is a substantial amount of time. Imagine planking for that long. Or holding your breath."
"…Spare me the fallacies, hyung."
Back at the condominium, for some reason, Soonie and Doongie warm up to Jisung as well and seem to want to play with him. He indulges them (and Dori) using a wand with a soft toy fish attached at the end.
Minho cackles when Jisung decides to match the cats' boundless energy by making frantic movements, flitting from one random spot to another in the living room, and even meowing at the trio, who meow at him in return. Playtime ends with Jisung trying to catch his breath on the floor and the cats either drinking water or resting with him.
"You're a feline whisperer," says Minho as he hands Jisung a glass of fresh orange juice. "How are you a dog person again?"
Jisung drinks half of the beverage before responding. "Well, I have a dog, but I don't identify as a dog person. Or a cat person. I love all animals equally, except for flies and roaches."
"What about wasps?"
"I've never even seen a wasp in reality, so I don't know if they're a pro or a con in my life." Upon standing up, Jisung notices the state of the kitchen sink. "Shall we do the dishes together?"
"You're the guest," says Minho, echoing what Jisung had told him during their first sleepover.
"That's a lot of stuff to clean, though. We even used the air fryer." Jisung finishes his juice while heading to the kitchen. "C'mon, jagi, this is practice for our domestic life."
"You're an idiot." The half-hearted insult is counteracted by the way Minho doesn't look Jisung's way in the next five minutes in an ineffective attempt to hide his flushed cheeks. So as not to fluster him further, Jisung concentrates on the soaping duty he's volunteered for. However, he can't stop the corners of his lips from tugging up slightly at the images of them living under the same roof and doing chores together. His friends would dub him unwell at this rate.
Minho is already wiping down the counter with a rag when his cell phone rings. "Sorry, I have to take this. It's work," he says after checking the name of the caller.
"Yeah, go ahead. I'll be fine with the cats." Jisung watches Minho go to the balcony, close the door, and sit on the cushioned wicker chair there. He then takes over the only kitchen task left.
For a moment, Jisung had forgotten how demanding an occupation the other has, especially since they both avoid talking about their jobs. He hasn't dated anyone with such a hectic schedule, and he has to admit that it isn't easy getting used to the lulls between their meetups. Despite that, he can see how much effort Minho's putting into spending time with him, so he tells himself there's nothing to worry about.
After washing his hands, Jisung goes back to where the cats are. He'd planned on enticing any of them to cuddle with him on the sofa, but he doesn't even get to sit down because the bookcase tucked into a corner of the room catches his eye.
Minho has told him that reading is one of his pastimes, although nowadays he doesn't have the energy to do it. Meanwhile, Jisung isn't a big reader since his attention span is more suitable for audiovisual content. Still, he enjoys looking at book covers and scoping out interesting synopses, so he approaches the shelves to do just that.
Carefully, he goes through the titles and pulls out whatever piques his interest. The selection is a mix of Korean and translated foreign works. One would think that someone in management would lean toward self-help and business books, but there's only a handful of those as most are fiction. Jisung recognizes some whose movies he's seen, such as The Count of Monte Cristo, Never Let Me Go, and Atonement, and others are familiar just because they're widely known, like Animal Farm and Pride and Prejudice.
As his eyes roam the shelves, Jisung realizes that the bookcase has non-book items as well. He squats down to examine the cute cat ornaments on the second lowest level. Each is in a different pose from the rest, and the art styles vary as well, which tells him that Minho hadn't bought them from the same shop.
Jisung finds that the bottommost shelf doesn't have a single book, just four framed photos. The first one is Minho beaming while carrying his three cats. It paints a smile on Jisung's face.
Next is a group photo of Minho with who can only be his three closest friends considering that Hyunjin is in it. The other two men he doesn't recognize have short, curly hair and are handsome as well. They're at their college graduation as indicated by their attire and the bouquets of flowers and diploma folders they're holding.
The third photo is of a teenage Minho being playfully piggybacked by another who is a more mature-looking version of him. Must be his brother, thinks Jisung, who considers his guess correct when the same person appears in the last photo, although this time he and Minho are standing on either side of a couple.
Their parents.
Minho's father has a stern demeanor that reminds Jisung of his high school principal, but the way he carries himself is far more refined. He also exudes an intense energy that could translate into a wall steel ten inches thick. His eyes carry no warmth.
Even though Minho's mother has a more youthful appearance than her husband, her posture is similar to his, confident and dominant. The soft lines of her face contradict the hardness of her gaze. She's closer in appearance to her children than their father.
Jisung understands the formality of the setting, but he can tell that's not the reason behind Minho's and his brother's stiff expressions. Family is another topic he and Minho don't dwell on for too long, and whenever they do, it turns into a monologue for Jisung, whose family life is as unremarkable as can be.
The sound of the balcony door opening prompts him to stand up. "Were you able to save the company from going bankrupt?" he goes, hoping to lighten the mood because Minho had not seemed pleased about getting the call.
"Yeah. I told them to turn it off and on again." Minho places his phone screen down on the dining table like he's done using it for the day. "You can borrow anything from there, by the way."
"Nah. Online comments with more than a hundred characters are already too long for me."
"So even short stories are a no-no?" asks Minho as he sits on the sofa and puts one of the pillows on his lap. He then gives the pillow a few pats, inviting Jisung to join him.
Jisung is in front of the couch in seven steps. "My memory's so bad that I remember just two short stories I've read." With his slippers off, he lies down on it, his head on Minho's pillow. From where he is, he confirms that the other is a sight for sore eyes from any angle. "Hills Like White Elephants and Guts."
Minho chuckles. "Hemingway and Palahniuk—what a combination."
"The first one was an assignment in high school, and a friend told me about the other one," recalls Jisung. "Literature just isn't my thing. I can read about nature and anime for hours, though."
"That should count for something." Minho pushes some of Jisung's hair back and away from his forehead. "Reading is reading regardless of the content." When he starts massaging the scalp with his fingertips, Jisung thinks he's ascending to an arbitrary religion's heavenly paradise. "You know, you look so much like a cat right now."
"Well, good. You love cats."
"I do. I love cats."
"Would you like this cat to give you some kisses?"
"I've been waiting since the cat's head hit the pillow."
MINHO
Hours pass the way Minho had initially planned. He and Jisung had taken a roughly one-hour nap on the sofa after a lengthy make-out session (with Soonie and Doongie as their audience), and once their sleepiness had dissipated, they'd started preparing their dinner of non-spicy tofu stew, rice, and some side dishes. Afterward, they'd watched Ponyo, which Jisung has seen just once before, so he'd been glad to be reminded of it.
"That was even cuter than I remembered," comments Jisung as he untangles himself from cuddling with Minho to stretch his arms above his head. In doing so, the T-shirt patterned with tiny cats that he's borrowed rises as well, putting in full display his unfathomably fun-size waist for the other man's entire being to hone in on. "Thanks for choosing it, hyung."
Since the previous day, Minho has been turning his mother's words over and over in his mind. She'd implied things he would've never thought about Jisung because his smile while he talks resembles a sunflower and his presence can be likened to summer breeze. Had she really been talking about him, or had she mistaken him for someone else?
Minho had put away the envelope he'd been given without opening it, so his questions remain unanswered. He does know, though, that he can't go on a second longer denying himself of what he wants.
Even before Jisung can react, Minho stands up and effortlessly lifts him bridal-style off the sofa.
"What are you doing?" yelps Jisung, panicking but not resisting.
"In a few minutes, you." Minho proceeds to carry a now pink-faced Jisung into the bedroom, where he deposits him on the burnt orange comforter. With a look of immense concentration, Jisung watches him cross his arms to pull his black hoodie off, revealing a toned torso with more strength than bulk. Jisung springs up from the mattress to kiss him feverishly, and they don't stop even as they lower themselves onto the bed.
"Why am I the only one getting naked?" asks Minho when Jisung manages to remove his shorts for him.
Giggling, Jisung raises his arms, laying them flat on the sheets, and goes, "Peel me like a banana, jagi."
The laughter in Minho's body while undressing Jisung is quickly replaced by stifling warmth when his gaze lands on the bare body underneath him. Not only does Jisung have the godly combination of broad shoulders and a delicate waist, but he's also more defined in the right places than his clothes let on. But what gets Minho hell-hot and immeasurably bothered is the spread of tattoos on Jisung's well-built chest.
The entire image swoops across the area just beneath his clavicles. At the center is a sheathed sword pointing downward, and behind it is a small sun whose rays resemble sunflower petals. On either side of it are pink and red peonies against muted green and blue leaves that reach as far as the curves of Jisung's shoulders. Wrapped around the branches and slithering among the blossoms are two snakes facing each other, one whose tail is curled around the sword.
Minho slides his fingers over the colors and lines, mesmerized through and through.
"I have another one on my back," says Jisung softly. He twists to the side just enough for Minho to see the line tattoos of planets along his spine. "I couldn't forget Pluto, of course."
"You're…"
Lying back down, Jisung takes Minho's hands in his. "I'm what?"
Breathtaking.
Radiant.
An indelible work of art.
There are too many options for an answer, all of them true.
"You're gonna fuck me." Minho repositions himself from where he is between Jisung's legs to straddling him. "And not just once." He leans forward to get things started, but Jisung steadies him by the arms.
"We can trade places anytime you want, alright?"
Minho feels his dick twitch because of the statement, which to him is adequate proof that romance isn't dead. "Thank you, jagi. By the way," he adds, now free to come closer, "you're summer rain."
Eyes locked on each other, they share a tender instance of quiet intimacy before Jisung goes in for a torrid kiss. Minho follows his lead, careful not to rush things. He commits to memory how warm Jisung is wherever he's touched, the faint scent of perfume on his neck, his sharp intake of breath when—after they've themselves divested of clothing—their most intimate parts come into contact.
The moment he allows himself to look between their bodies, a gasp gets stuck in his throat. He thinks he must've died because what he's seeing that isn't his own is too perfect to exist in reality. And it's not just about the length of it; it's the girth in particular that's giving him a fever.
Minho lowers himself onto Jisung once more and starts imprinting the sweetness of the other's mouth onto his tongue. His right hand deftly moves southward, fingers touching Jisung but no more than that, a tentative hello. Minho then leaves a trail of nips and licks on Jisung's jawline and neck before worshiping his tattoo with kisses and caresses.
Upon finding a nipple, Minho discovers that while Jisung isn't sensitive there, he whimpers when bitten and then sucked, pain followed by comfort, so Minho gives the other bud the same treatment. After that, he's nibbling on the flat expanse of Jisung's stomach; in the process, he becomes obsessed with how soft the flesh between his teeth is and takes bigger bites.
"Hyung," protests Jisung with a giggle. Minho's breath is tickling him near the navel. "If you don't do something else, I might pee on you."
"So you like that kind of fun, huh?" teases Minho.
"No, oh my God. I don't even pee in the shower."
"Some other time, then."
Jisung's next words remain unsaid because when Minho starts licking the shaft and sliding it between his fingers, he can't do anything but make incoherent noises.
Not having been gifted with a roomier mouth, Minho initially struggles with Jisung's cock. It almost feels like his jaw's about to unhinge, accommodating the sizable erection. He copes by taking it out every now and then to instead rub his wet lips on it in random directions, swirling his tongue around the head, and sliding his mouth along the shaft like it's a harmonica.
He tries not to laugh at the term that springs to mind: harmonicock.
"Should I be worried that you're smiling?" asks Jisung.
"Not at all," answers Minho, gently nuzzling Jisung's balls. "I'll tell you about it later." With that, he returns to the other's cock, slowly inches his way down until he no longer can, and uses his fingers to cover the remaining length. He then starts bobbing his head and pumping with his hand at the same pace, his eyes flickering up at Jisung a few times to gauge his reaction. Minho can tell that he's doing everything right judging by the way Jisung's head is thrown back and shallow gasps keep spilling out of him.
"F-fuck." When Jisung makes eye contact with Minho, his brows are furrowed, and his cheeks are pinker than ever. He's as delirious with want as Minho is. "Don't make me come yet."
Minho pulls off with a pop. "Where do you wanna come?"
Jisung bites his lower lip for a second and says in a whisper, "Inside you."
"I wouldn't have accepted any other answer." Having crawled back to a straddling position, Minho reaches for the condoms and bottle of lube in his bedside drawer. Then, he freezes.
"What's wrong?" asks Jisung, sounding concerned.
"…I'm not sure this will fit you."
Jisung chuckles. "I have some in my bag. Let me just—"
"You and your fifth limb are not going anywhere," says Minho as he places his hand on Jisung's chest to prevent him from leaving. He knows he's about to try something dodgy, and there's still time for him to opt for a more rational path, but the rigid dick he can feel against his ass sabotages him. "When did you last sleep with someone?"
"Um." Minho thinks it's cute how Jisung's eyes move while he's recollecting. "Almost but not quite two years ago. I maybe sorta don't go out much."
"We're not that different," says Minho. "And you're clean? You get tested regularly?" Jisung nods. "Same here. Important questions aside, how open are you to ditching the condom?"
Jisung swallows hard. "As open as the Grand Canyon."
Their combined laughter fills the room.
"Glad to know you are, but I need some opening done myself, jagi."
"Oh, right." Picking up the pump bottle from the bed, Jisung sits up and lovingly kisses Minho for some seconds prior to rolling on top of him. Minho can only blink at the other man, wondering how Jisung had unearthed his penchant for being manhandled. He looks on as Jisung coats his own fingers with lube.
The first one is easy for Minho to get used to. The second isn't an issue, either, not even when Jisung does a scissoring motion. It's the third finger that has Minho squirming because while their hands are close in size, Jisung's digits are meatier than his.
"Should I go back to two or add more lube?" asks Jisung, whose eyes haven't left Minho's face.
"It's all good. I just…need to relax." Minho breathes through his mouth in an effort to loosen up. With a nod, he encourages Jisung to continue what he's doing, which is shifting between sliding and twisting his fingers. Though it takes a minute for him to adjust, soon Minho is sighing with pleasure, especially when Jisung grazes the spot. "I'm ready."
Without another word, Jisung pulls his fingers back and covers his cock with lube next. Its size is even more intimidating from Minho's new angle, but at the same time, it thrills him from head to toe. His long sexual hiatus has been worth it.
"Holy shit." The stretch from Jisung's girth is unlike anything Minho has encountered. It's not even halfway in, yet his body's choking on it. He knows his physical limits with average men; Jisung, though, is above and beyond average.
"What do you say we flip so it's better for you?" goes Jisung with a soft smile.
Minho must be going nuts because for the second time, it's Jisung's thoughtfulness that causes his blood to sizzle. "No, no, I like you this way. C'mere." He reaches for Jisung, who immediately knows what Minho wants and gives it to him: a kiss that could further fuel the flames of desire charring his veins. It's a welcome distraction from the pain.
At that proximity, Minho manages to move his hands down Jisung's back until they're groping ass. He squeezes the flesh with enough force to make its owner whine, and then he presses down on it, effectively pushing Jisung farther inside him.
While some discomfort remains, the fact that Jisung's dick is occupying so much space in his body arouses Minho to the point that he's able to enjoy the ache of it. When the length is gone and he can feel Jisung's sparse hair against his skin, he knows that no one will ever come close to filling him like this.
"Are you okay?" asks Jisung despite being flustered himself.
"Are you okay?" returns Minho, snickering at the other's disheveled expression.
"I'm gonna apologize now in case I come too quickly. You're really warm—fuck ." Jisung groans when Minho rocks his hips once. "God, I think I'm about to explode."
"That's fine." Minho tucks a strand of hair behind Jisung's ear. "You can come as many times as you want."
As though a switch has been turned on, emotion leaves Jisung's features at those words. He leans away from Minho, holds him by the waist, and pulls back slightly before thrusting into him once. Minho does his best not to cry out, but when Jisung repeats it, then again, and keeps going until he reaches a certain pace, he throws all modesty out the window and lets each sensation that overwhelms him manifest vocally. His breathing gets more ragged when Jisung places Minho's legs on his shoulders, bends forward, and goes as deep as possible.
Just as Minho thinks it can't get any more pleasurable, Jisung uses his still slick hand to envelop Minho's cock and jerk it in time with his thrusts. Every movement brings both of them closer to the edge, but it's Minho who comes first with a sustained whimper and fingers clutching the sheets, shooting himself on his and Jisung's abdomens. He hides his face in the crook of Jisung's neck glistening with sweat as he descends from his peak.
Having returned to Earth, Minho wraps his limbs around Jisung, whose hips have yet to stop, and whispers into his ear, "Are you close, jagi?"
"Almost there," answers Jisung, breathless. "Can I have you on my lap, though?"
"Of course, cutie." Minho holds on as Jisung puts on a display of strength by lifting both of them off the bed before sitting down. The change in position may have naturally pulled part of Jisung out of him, but he doesn't let it last. Almost right away, he bounces on Jisung's length, his speed guided by the hands gripping his sides.
It takes just half a minute more for Jisung to come undone, unabashedly grunting against Minho's shoulder. Minho becomes hyper-aware of the cock inside him pulsating and filling him to the brim. That alone starts pushing him toward another climax.
"Jisung-ah," he starts, "I'm—" Minho doesn't believe in soulmates and all that nonsense. For him, people are either compatible or not compatible, and that's it. But he begins doubting his beliefs because with the briefest of eye contact and a glance at Minho's erection, Jisung understands what he needs.
"Lie down, hyung," instructs Jisung. He rests between Minho's thighs, which he sprinkles with chaste kisses, and proceeds to go down on him.
Minho gets lost in the heat and wet of the other's mouth. Though Jisung can't take the cock entirely due to his gag reflex, his enthusiasm for sucking and the tirelessness of his hand more than make up for it. He doesn't forget about Minho's balls, which he fondles and licks and puts in his mouth as well. When he gets back to the length and develops a steady rhythm, Minho's breathing becomes shallow and quick; this he correctly indicates as a sign to keep going.
"Shit." At that expletive, the buildup of tension in Minho's body erupts, causing him to shut his eyes, and he comes in Jisung's mouth. The deluge of sensations drains him and leaves him spent. He looks down to check on the other, and it's then that Jisung shows him the pool of white on his tongue before swallowing it in one gulp.
"You have a lot of cum," says Jisung while kissing his way up Minho's body. He licks clean the sticky mess on Minho's stomach. "I really like that."
"Plenty more where that came from, but I need a minute to recover. Or an hour."
Jisung snickers. "Take your time. We're not in a hurry."
They share a kiss that makes Minho's skin prickle and then lie side by side just looking at the ceiling. Their fingers end up interlaced.
Minho's voice puts an end to the silence. "You know, I've fantasized about fucking you so many times I've lost count."
"...Not the most romantic thing someone's said to me after sex, but I'll take it," says Jisung, sounding amused.
"Let me finish."
"I let you finish twice, hyung."
Minho ignores him. "I must've imagined us in every position possible, every top-bottom iteration, and every location my brain could recall, but that"—he points at Jisung's semi-erect cock—"was not in any of the scenarios I came up with."
"How big did you think I'd be?" asks Jisung with raised eyebrows.
"Average. A hard five, maybe six on hornier days," answers Minho. "It's terrible to expect anything more than that. And thickness wasn't on my mind at all, but you blew my standards right out of the water. Your dick is now the dick. I can't have anything less. That'd be a major downgrade."
Jisung chuckles while turning to face Minho. "Would it be too much if I complimented your bumhole?"
"If you use a better word than 'bumhole,' yes."
"Actually," starts Jisung, "I'm often the bottom 'coz my dick scares people off. It's an issue."
It's Minho's turn to lay on his side so they can be face to face. "You're joking."
"They take one look at it and back off, saying it wouldn't fit, so I offer to bottom instead. You, on the other hand, didn't flinch at all and handled the entire thing. Your bootyhole's a wonder."
"I'm giving you a pass for 'bootyhole' 'coz it's cute," goes Minho. "I would've appreciated a heads-up so I could've done kegels every day or something, but I understand." Their physical closeness allows him to inspect Jisung's chest tattoo more carefully with his eyes and fingertips. "Is this the one that made you cry?"
"Yup," grins Jisung. "I couldn't handle the pain back then, so it took about…six sessions within three weeks."
Minho winces. "Brutal."
"The tattoo artist made me comfortable by talking with me about anime and movies, and we became friends. He also did my back several months after."
"What flowers are these? Peonies?"
"Gardenias. I like how their petals are arranged. I should probably get peonies, too, now that I think about it. They're lovely."
"Yeah, they are."
"But you're incomparably lovelier."
Minho hopes he's not blushing as he glares at Jisung halfheartedly. "You've stretched out my rectum for good, and I'd let you do it again. I think that gives you the right to tone down the flirting."
"Unthinkable. I'll flirt with you until my last breath."
"Sure you will." An amused smile on his lips, Minho leans closer, aiming for the mouth in front of him, but Jisung's stomach gurgling interrupts him. The two men break into a hearty laugh. "I should've known to get desserts for dinner."
"You're off the hook," says Jisung, tearing up. "I believe this is a me problem now."
"Yes, well, I'm making it my problem, too." Minho pecks the tip of Jisung's nose. "Kitchen or takeout?"
💼 💼 💼
Though having a well-trained body clock is annoying on weekends, Minho is thankful for it the next day because he gets to admire Jisung's sleeping form again.
After consuming a box of soy sauce fried chicken and yellow pickled radish as well as some yogurt from the freezer, they'd hung out with the cats and showered together, which had proven pointless because it had only led to Minho carrying Jisung and railing him against the wall. They'd continued it in the bedroom, both of them getting knocked out at some hour past midnight.
Minho drops a kiss on Jisung's bare shoulder prior to slowly getting out of bed. A splash of cold water on the face and a bit of gargling awaken the groggiest parts of his brain. He puts on a fresh shirt and places one on the bed for Jisung. So they can drink coffee together later, he makes himself black tea instead and goes through his cabinets and refrigerator to figure out what to make for breakfast.
Since he has plenty of time and most of the ingredients needed, he opts to make lentil frittata. He makes use of the baking time by feeding Soonie, Doongie, and Dori and checking emails. He'd turned off all his work notifications yesterday.
The frittata comes out of the oven golden with crunchy brown patches at the top and smelling divine. Minho places it on the counter and gets to work on the salad and the coffee. The condominium glows from the sunlight filtering through the curtains.
Jisung's low voice is preceded by the mild creaking of the bedroom door. "Hyung?" His sleepy, puffy face makes Minho want to squish him in his fist like a stress ball. "G'morning. It smells great in here."
"Good morning, jagi," greets Minho, setting two mugs beside the coffee maker. Do you take sugar and milk?"
"Black is good." Jisung kisses Minho on the cheek and goes to the drawer where the place mats and coasters are so he can begin setting the table. Minho can’t get enough of the husband energy emanating from him.
"Did you sleep okay?" asks Minho once they're both seated at the table.
"I don't remember falling asleep," admits Jisung, poking a piece of frittata with his fork, "and I didn't dream. It was wonderful." He takes his first mouthful. "Holy smokes, this is incredible."
"Yeah?" Minho copies him. "Oh, wow, you're right. This recipe hasn't failed me since I found it online."
"Thank you for going through the trouble. You could've woken me up to help you, though."
"I thought you'd prefer to sleep in, especially after that last round…"
Jisung chuckles. "The chicken kept me going. How about you, hyung? You're not sore or anything?"
"Mmm, a little bit. Nothing I can't ignore," says Minho. "I like feeling sore. It reminds me how well I've been fucked."
"Noted." Jisung sips on his coffee. "By the way, I have to leave before lunch. Got errands to run."
"I can drop you off anywhere you need to be. I'll lend you my clothes, too."
"You spoil me," grins Jisung. "Thank you. Really."
They spend the last few hours of the morning tidying the kitchen, playing with the cats, watering the plants in the condo and on the two balconies, and talking while cuddled on the sofa. Though Minho doesn't want his weekend with Jisung to end, similar to other aspects of his life, he has no control over this. Soon, he's kissing him goodbye in the car, and then Jisung walks away, waving back at him, wearing Minho's shirt and jacket, oblivious to the fact that the man he's smiling at already misses him.
The drive home is awful. Minho has to face the bleak side of his reality again, the one devoid of Jisung's saturated colors. He longs to escape it, but he's incapable. And he's to blame because he'd allowed himself to be shackled to this knowing he'd never be given freedom.
He needs a fucking drink.
💼 💼 💼
It's close to sunset when Joonwoo turns off the engine, which means he and Minho have arrived at their destination. The latter gets out of the vehicle carrying nothing but the phone in his suit jacket's pocket. He goes up the steps to the black gate and rings the doorbell.
Within seconds, he's being ushered inside by a middle-aged female housekeeper he's never met before. There's a stepping stone pathway curving through a well-kept garden of trees and bushes with an area for a fire pit and four cushioned patio chairs. The house's siding is a combination of white stucco and brick. Indoors, the first room after the foyer is a spacious living room. Despite not having visited in years, Minho thinks the residence hasn't changed much since his childhood days.
An older man dressed in a steel gray cashmere sweater and loose beige pants comes into the room from the other side even before Minho can sit down. "Ah, look at you," he says. The housekeeper leaves them with a bow. "You truly are a spitting image of your mother. Thank god because your dad's face is painfully average."
Minho's nervousness melts away at the humorous comment. "Good evening, uncle. You're quite sprightly yourself. Thank you for inviting me here."
"'Sprightly'? Quit the posh talk. We're not in a family reunion. And sit down, for fuck's sake. What did I even get two couches for?" As Minho approaches one of the white sofas, he's asked from the mini bar, "You brought a driver with you?"
"Yes. I'd like a bourbon, please. Neat." Minho knows he'll need alcohol for the conversation they're about to have. He doesn't plan on exceeding his limit, though, because he also needs his brain to function.
His uncle, whose name is Kwangseon, delivers Minho's drink and has a cold bottle of beer for himself. He sits on the opposite couch, taking a couple of swigs prior to speaking. "I know you hate small talk as much as I do, so let's go straight to it: which of them do you want me to talk to?"
"All of them, if possible," answers Minho, "but the most important ones are Chung-sajang and Gye-jeonmu. It's not just their titles and scope of influence; they also don't like me very much." The first sip of bourbon stings his throat good.
"I wonder why," muses Kwangseon in an obviously unserious manner. "I mean, who'd be mad about having a boss who's thirty or forty years your senior and doesn't have extensive professional experience?"
"Uncle—"
"I know, I know. You have the degrees for it, and you interned at LJS, spent summers shadowing me and your father. You've sat in numerous meetings since you were in your preteens. But they don't care about any of that. All they care about is losing the chance to become the vice chairman because of nepotism."
"It's a family-run business," says Minho flatly. "It won't be handed to non-family anytime soon."
"Yes, but who was supposed to be where you are right now?" asks Kwangseon in response. "They were expecting him, not you."
"So they hate me because they were buddies with hyung?"
"Not quite. They believe he had more potential to be easily controlled. He was more softhearted than you, our Taegeun. I've long thought he wouldn't fit the vice chairman position because of that, and I was right. But you…" Kwangseon tips his bottle toward his nephew. "You're a nonconformist, and you can't be bribed or threatened. Professional relationships are horse shit to you. None of those things is up their alley."
Minho takes a moment to reflect on his uncle's words. It's been his belief that the other executives had not given him a warm welcome due to his credentials. He hadn't considered their personal agenda. Since his first day at work, he's done what he can to prove his capability, but all along the C-suites had been playing a different game. He should've realized it sooner. "I'm not willing to turn into the puppet they want me to be."
"And you shouldn't," says Kwangseon, grinning. "Hold on to your conviction because that will be the thing that saves you." He pauses to meet Minho's eyes. "You're pretty ambitious, though, I have to say. Why change the status quo when you're the one who'll benefit from it the most?"
They're not the only ones keeping the company afloat.
"Change starts from the top," answers Minho, Jisung's statement playing in his head. "If leaders proactively improve employees' work lives, then those employees will continue working hard for the company. The status quo is destructive. You don't earn enough, so you work more hours, but even if your salary increases, your physical and mental health deteriorate. The system wants you to lose, to stay desperate. Desperation may push you to stay at a job, but at what cost?
"I want our employees to stay because they want to, because they're being treated and compensated fairly. I've looked into how they perform, and customers are happy with them. Most customers don't even see me or talk to me; I'm just a name. I could even be nothing to them. They know the company name, the subsidiaries, and if they contact customer service, they know that person as well, but me and the C-suites? We might as well not exist, yet we reap the rewards of employees' efforts.
"I've been an employee at the lowest level, and I did more work back then than I do now. I also got more shit than I do now. So yeah, if I'm going to be in charge of a conglomerate, I'm going to improve it at every level, from product quality to employee welfare to customer service. This salary decrease is just part of a long-term plan to create a more sustainable and fair company.
"Enough of all the bullshit about coworkers and employers being your family. Family can be the worst thing in your life, and you have no say in who's going to be part of it. Partnership is my vision: working, achieving, and advancing in life together. I can't do that if the other executives refuse to see it."
The living room is silent at the conclusion of the monologue. Though Minho hadn't meant to ramble, he's determined to see this initiative through, and he has to make sure his uncle shares his sentiments.
Kwangseon's expression is hard to read at first. He finishes two-thirds of his beer, rests his right ankle on his left thigh, and says, "Did you know that when you ran away from home, I didn't help your parents and brother look for you?"
"Why? Because I'm not your favorite?" jests Minho.
"Because I would've done the same thing," explains Kwangseon, "except I wasn't as fearless as you. When I was at that age, I knew I wanted out. I couldn't stomach the ego and the drama, and I hated that everything revolved around businesses this and wealth management that and family name, blah, blah, blah."
"That's why my father took over the company and not you."
"Correct. He may have been the younger son, but he had the thirst I lacked. The thought of heading multiple companies at once scared me, but at the same time, there was nowhere else for me to go. So I accepted a lower position and kept my head down.
"I didn't search for you because you'd made it. Being sheltered all your life makes you more wary of the world, but that didn't stop you. I was proud of you, and I wanted to support you the best way I could."
"I'm here again, though," counters Minho, self-disappointment in his tone. He absentmindedly swirls the dark liquid in his glass. "The world got to me, and I came crawling right back."
Kwangseon shrugs. "Doesn't matter. You tried, and you were there for a while, weren't you?"
"...Five years." To Minho, somehow it seems much shorter than that.
"See? That's an accomplishment for individuals like us whose fate had been decided by other people and not the universe. Now that I'm retired, I'm able to live the way I want, but there are a lot of things I can no longer do because I didn't have the guts to take risks when I was younger. Earning minimum wage was an actual fear I had. Truly pathetic. You're not like that, and you even inspired your brother to run away like you did. How is he, by the way?"
Minho shakes his head. "I haven't spoken to him in months. He still sends me gifts on my birthday, but because he uses a PO box, I can't determine where he is exactly. Knowing him, I bet he's having the time of his life."
"And you? I know I said no small talk, but it's not like we do this every day."
"I'm doing alright," says Minho with a gentle grin. He asks himself whether it would be safe for him to tell his uncle about Jisung. Kwangseon is still his father's brother, after all. He opts for the middle ground between truth and lie. "I've found someone who makes everything more bearable. That person inspired this initiative."
"Oh, good for you, then," remarks Kwangseon. "I would've gone bonkers long ago had it not been for your aunt. That's how you know it's a healthy relationship—when difficult things get easier even if they actually don't. So." He puts down his bottle on the coffee table and claps his hands on his knees. "I'll see to it that your entire executive team gets in on your proposal."
Minho can't believe his ears at first. "Really, uncle? You'll do that?"
"The truth is, I didn't need convincing. I checked all the files you sent, and it was the first time I got excited over something business-related. Your bravado's admirable, and I know the company will prosper under your care. You don't have to worry about this matter anymore. I know what makes those uptight colleagues of yours tick."
"Thank you, uncle," says Minho, beaming. "Just…thank you. If there's anything I can do—"
"Stay for dinner," interjects Kwangseon as he stands up. "Your aunt would love to see you as well."
The weight in Minho's chest suddenly disappears. "I've missed her cooking."
💼 💼 💼
The following days are nerve-wracking for Minho. His uncle hadn't divulged the specific strategies he'll use on the C-suites, so all Minho can do is wait.
Even if his duties aren't giving him time to ponder on the whole thing, it's a rain cloud that looms over him no matter what he's occupied with, and to think that he has to interact with the other executives during work hours. None of them is treating him differently, and they also don't bring up the initiative. It's as though they're in a cold war with him.
Not the type to celebrate anything early, Minho doesn't talk about his proposal with Jisung. And it's like he can, either—Jisung has suddenly become busier at work. He replies to messages later than usual, apologizing because he has to do overtime. Of course, Minho tells him there's nothing to be sorry for; they're independent adults with full-time jobs, so they have to be understanding of each other's fluctuating availability.
"You know how couples start to look like one another after a while?" asks Changbin during their Friday group dinner. Minho nods. "You guys are getting on the same level of workaholism."
"I'm not a workaholic," protests Minho while cutting his steak into bite-sized pieces for efficiency. "Overseeing twenty-nine companies every day is crazy."
"God, I remember when you showed me your unread emails," whines Hyunjin. "There's not enough money in the world that would persuade me to do something that monotonous every damn day. No offense, hyung."
"At least his priorities are on point," comments Chan, who's on his second plate of seafood spaghetti since it's his cheat day. "He hasn't given you hell for being busy, so it's only right that you return the favor."
Minho takes a deep breath. "Adulting is a curse. What do I have to do for us to be college lovers instead so we can skip classes whenever we want to go on dates and fuck without facing big consequences?"
"Nothing because you have awful priorities as a student," answers Changbin. Hyunjin and Chan chuckle together.
"Why don’t you plan a vacation, hyung?" suggests Hyunjin. "That way, you two will have something to look forward to after all the hustling."
"That's a superb idea,” agrees Chan. "It'll also make up for the time you can't spend with one another."
"I guess that'll work," says Minho, thinking about the places they can possibly visit. "He doesn't travel all that much. I have to ask him what kind of environment he prefers. Neither of us can swim, so beaches are out."
Changbin stops chewing and goes, "You can have fun at the beach without swimming."
"There's still the cancerous heat, dry sand in my shorts, and wet sand between my toes to annoy me."
"That's all part of the experience," says Chan with a snicker. He's biased due to his love of the beach and surfing.
"Not everything's worth experiencing. Anyway, ultimately, the destination isn't the most important thing because just being with him is." Minho helps himself to some French onion soup—the aged Comté and Gruyère are amazing with the caramelized onions. However, he stops when he realizes that his friends have become quiet, which is unusual. It turns out that they're all looking at him with the same sappy expression. "What now?"
"This is the most in love we've seen you," answers Chan for the other two.
"It's so cute," coos Hyunjin.
"And maybe a bit unnerving," admits Changbin.
With a roll of the eyes, Minho lifts his knife off the plate and says, "Shall I make it more unnerving for you, Changbin-ssi?"
💼 💼 💼
Minho barely feels the weekend due to his business commitments. He flies to Japan with Seongjin and an interpreter named Garam to meet with the owners of the two companies LJS Printing is close to acquiring. There are a few wrinkles left in the contracts to iron out, and discussing them in person allows Minho to get to know the men he's negotiating with better and use his charm and wit on them accordingly.
The trip lasts three days. He stays in Tokyo the first night and the last two in Kobe since his return flight is at Kansai International Airport.
In his hotel room, Minho frequently checks KakaoTalk. His friends are having fun on their days off; meanwhile, he's scrolling through Japanese TV channels with his phone on his lap in case he receives anything from Jisung. Unfortunately, what he gets is radio silence, which causes him to worry.
On Monday, when Minho leaves the hotel early in the morning to go fishing with Mr. Aikawa, he decides that enough is enough. His last message to Jisung had been a heads-up about his work trip. He follows it up with a one-liner, and then he puts his phone on do-not-disturb mode since the fishing trip is still for business purposes. Garam tags along with him, but Seongjin gets to spend the day as he pleases.
The driver Minho has hired for the trip brings them to Hiraiso Marine Fishing Park but not before stopping at a small grocery for snacks and drinks to share. Mr. Aikawa meets them at the entrance and insists on paying for the three of them.
"With the paycheck you'll be giving me soon, Mr. Lee," he says, "I can cover the fees of all the visitors here today, and my accountant a.k.a. my loving wife wouldn't nag me for it."
"I'm happy to know that this deal has made a positive impact on your marriage," smiles Minho. "Please excuse my horrendous fishing skills—I haven't had time to practice due to my schedule."
Mr. Aikawa chuckles. They start slowly walking to the area where they can get fishing rods and bait. "No worries, no worries. We're not here to compete. To tell you the truth, I invited you here because I've been running my business since I was in my twenties, so I know how hectic an entrepreneur's life can be, but you, Mr. Lee, have many businesses to think about, so many! I get dizzy at the thought of being in your shoes. Even if you have your youth, it's still remarkable to me. Consider this my small gift to you: a chance to unwind and forget about your job and responsibilities for a few hours."
Something about the older man's words pinches a corner of Minho's heart. Maybe it's because he has bumped into plenty of opposition from the day of his appointment as the vice chairman. Despite having allies, they're far and few in between, and those don't even include his parents. But he can't give up what he's started, not when there are people as kind to him as Mr. Aikawa.
"Thank you for this present," he says with a slight bow of the head. "Rest assured that I'll be thinking about nothing but fish today."
Mr. Aikawa gives Minho a friendly slap on the shoulder. "That's the right attitude." They each get their equipment, and Mr. Aikawa leads the way onto the pier right beside Osaka Bay, with a grand view of Akashi Kaikyo Bridge. There are ferries across the water, some of them for fishing and others for sightseeing.
Unexpectedly, angling is more enjoyable than Minho had expected. Not only is he able to catch some fish, but the serene surroundings give him a kind of peace he doesn't often experience in the city. The sun doesn't bother him too much because of the chilly autumn air. So Garam can fish as well, Minho and Mr. Aikawa keep their conversations short despite the interpreter's remark that he's glad to do his job.
They stay at the park until it's time for lunch. Taking their own vehicles, they dine at a restaurant where Minho and Garam are able to try Kobe beef. The flavors of the meat are unlike anything that Minho's had before. He creates a mental note of the meal so he'll remember to tell Jisung about it.
"It's been splendid meeting you, Mr. Lee," says Mr. Aikawa at their parting. "I wish you safe travel."
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Aikawa," returns Minho. "I'll see you in South Korea once the deal is finalized."
"Of course. Would it be an imposition to bring my wife? She hasn't traveled there, you see."
Minho smiles warmly. "That's absolutely fine. I can't wait to meet her."
At the hotel once more, Minho undresses down to his undershirt and boxers before sitting cross-legged on the bed. He has to be at the airport in four hours, but he isn't worried given that it's not far. When he restores the original mode of his phone, notifications come in one by one.
Including messages from Jisung.
Messages.
Plural.
"Calm the fuck down," he murmurs to himself, his heart racing. He clicks on the most recent banner.
ehlomein: i miss you my elephant :(
hannie_shalalala: hyuuuuuunnnnnnnnngggggg [crying dog emoji]
hannie_shalalala: i miss you too. so much. like you won't believe
hannie_shalalala: i wish i could see you but neither of us is even in seoul, i'm kinda losing my mind
hannie_shalalala: but i have a friend here who's been cheering me on for days
hannie_shalalala: [image]
hannie_shalalala: [image]
Minho's smile is so big that his eyes turn into crescents. The first photo is a selfie where Jisung is balancing his elephant plushie on top of his head, and it's followed by a photo of him doing a peace sign in front of a tray of food he may have gotten via room service. He's dreamy. He's Minho's dream boy.
hannie_shalalala: quick lunch break! then i have to go out again [crying bunny emoji]
hannie_shalalala: when this is over let's talk until we lose our voices
hannie_shalalala: and hump like rabbits
hannie_shalalala: [blushing peach with hearts sticker]
After saving the photos, Minho spends a bit of time admiring them by abusing the zoom function. If his eyeballs could talk, they'd be singing Mandy Moore's 'Candy,' LeAnn Rimes' 'I Need You,' and Brian McKnight's 'Back At One' at the top of their eye-lungs in that specific order.
It's torture being away from Jisung even if it defies all logic. Minho has lived most of his life without a partner, and he's been able to move on from breakups more quickly than Hyunjin can find a warm body to smash. Not seeing one man—a man, the most damned creature to exist!—for a short period isn't supposed to affect him, except this one is, and it's breaking him. He pities himself. And then he misses Jisung. A homosexual vicious cycle.
In his reverie, he nearly forgets to respond to Jisung. Though he has numerous things to say, he doesn't know where to start. He shouldn't be too dramatic or too aloof, yet he should be honest. Most of all, the first message has to be impactful so Jisung won't be able to resist replying to it.
ehlomein: i agree that i'm a rabbit, but you? you're part horse [eggplant emoji] [ruler emoji]
💼 💼 💼
Jisung's chats become more frequent. However, because there's no improvement in his work schedule, Minho finds their interactions insufficient.
An imaginary bug in his ear whispers all sorts of annoying things to him, ranging from he's losing interest to 'overtime' means something else to there's a reason you two aren't in a relationship yet. It repeatedly slams its fists on his subconscious whenever he's idle, so he drowns himself in work and meetings, not missing any opportunity to fill up his free time.
"Buhwejangnim," says Seongjin as he gives a rundown of Minho's schedule for the day, "Chung-sajang has scheduled a meeting at one thirty. The other executives have it on their calendars as well."
The suddenness of the meeting is suspicious to Minho. "What's the agenda?"
"He refused to say, but he emphasized that your attendance is imperative, and it can't be postponed to another day."
Minho taps his right foot on the floor, his nerves becoming hyperactive. "Alright. Tell him I'll be there."
It's about the salary decrease, Minho knows. It has to be. While he's certain that his uncle wouldn't let him down, he chooses to refrain from setting expectations and predicting what's likely to happen. He'll accept whatever decision the other men and women make, and then he'll formulate other ways to attain his end objectives. This is only one initiative of many. If it fails, there's no use crying over spilled milk.
He goes to the cafeteria for lunch, something he hasn't done in a while. Most employees see him and look the other way as though they'd broken an unwritten rule. He asks the staff to give him just half a cup of rice because he doesn't have much of an appetite. The bubbling in his stomach isn't hunger.
As always, Minho arrives at the meeting room fifteen minutes in advance. He watches hamster videos on mute while waiting.
Around ten minutes later, the other executive team members start occupying the empty seats. Mr. Chung is the last one to show up, carrying only an envelope fastened with string. He's a heavy-set man in his late sixties, brooding but not intimidating, a quiet drinker at company year-end parties. A strict observer of schedules, he starts speaking at exactly one thirty.
"Good afternoon, buhwejangnim," he says, bowing while seated. "Before anything else, I'd like to apologize for abruptly calling this meeting. Certain decisions were made in haste and, after some careful consideration, retracted.
Minho nods in understanding. "It's fine by me, Chung-sajangnim. Please, go ahead."
"Thank you, buhwejangnim." Mr. Chung unwinds the string of the envelope but doesn't reveal the contents. "I am speaking on behalf of the executive team. We have reviewed the proposal you presented last Wednesday, individually and as a group." Minho doesn't ask about the secret meeting they'd had. "I admit I was among those who thought it was…out of left field, so to speak. The large difference between the current and revised salaries was shocking, and the initiative itself is unheard of historically."
As serious as the occasion is, Minho starts comparing it to a breakup. At least it looks like he's going to be let down gently.
He needs to look for better coping mechanisms for his nervousness.
"However," continues Mr. Chung, "the plan you've developed is comprehensive and future-proof. You have taken into account the smallest factors that may impact the ripple effects of this approach and provided solutions to mitigate possible issues.
"LJS Printing has been growing in terms of profit and conglomerate size, but even I have to admit that we have not done much through the years for one core asset: our employees. And so, buhwejangnim, we are here to express that we are in agreement with you on this strategy, and we would like for it to take effect immediately."
Minho is equally ecstatic and incredulous. His determination has paid off, and the rest of his plans can be put into action after this. He has taken the first step toward evoking positive change in the company—not all vice chairmen can say they've accomplished that.
Out of respect and gratitude, he stands up and bows at everyone, who stands up to respond in kind. When Mr. Chung gives him the envelope, he finds his printed proposal signed by all the executives, and there are also separate signed salary adjustment contracts provided by the human resources department. Looking at them feels like opening gifts on Christmas Day.
At the conclusion of the meeting, Minho visits Seongjin at his desk to tell him the good news ("I never doubted you for one second, buhwejangnim.") before heading to his own office to contact other people. The first one he messages, of course, is Jisung.
ehlomein: the big project i told you i was working on, it's been approved!!
ehlomein: i sense nothing but good things coming from here on out
ehlomein: let's meet up soon so we can celebrate, my treat! [smiling duck emoji]
He then switches to the only group chat he's active in.
ehlomein: the ancient ones agreed to my proposal!!
ehlomein: please tell me you guys are free tonight, all rounds on me!!
He's thankful that his friends are laid-back business owners with full control of their time because they're able to reply to him in a matter of minutes while he's still practically bouncing with glee.
binthere_donethat: wow wow wowwww congrats!!!!
binthere_donethat: omg minho-hyung is using more than one consecutive punctuation
binthere_donethat: i am so in!!!!!
notjackiechan97: congratulations, minho-ya! i knew you could do it!
notjackiechan97: what time do we meet up? i might run a little late but i'll be there
jinnie_in_a_bottle: i'm super happy for you hyung! you literally showed 'em who's boss!!!
jinnie_in_a_bottle: i'll be in the area btw so i can pick you up after work
ehlomein: no it's fine, i wanna go home and change
binthere_donethat: [replying to jinnie_in_a_bottle: i'll be in the area btw so i can pick you up after work] hyunjinie you can give me a ride :3
jinnie_in_a_bottle: hyung you have a fucking hummer leave me be
binthere_donethat: [crying bear in a box sticker]
ehlomein: [replying to notjackiechan97: what time do we meet up? i might run a little late but i'm gonna be there] i'll get us a reservation for 7:00 at the clover :)
jinnie_in_a_bottle: ohooooo we're gettin' real fancy tonight, boys! [happy dog sticker]
binthere_donethat: never been happier about having a chaebol-esque friend [sunglasses smiley emoji]
notjackiechan97: i'll have my assistant get me better clothes haha my jeans and leather jacket will get side-eyed
jinnie_in_a_bottle: pretty sure they'll let you in naked for all the cougars to drool over roooaaarrrrr
notjackiechan97: this is what i get for dating an older woman once oh god
ehlomein: hyung i don't think "older woman" applies if she's in her 60s and you're in your 20s
binthere_donethat: that's a grandma you eat biscuits with but you ate her out instead
jinnie_in_a_bottle: i sincerely regret opening this pandora's box
Hours later, Minho begins preparing for his night out as soon as he arrives at the condominium. Once he's freshly showered, his cats follow him around, meowing and pawing at his legs so he'll pet them, which he does until they've received adequate attention. Minho settles for a high-quality white shirt, a dark gray suit jacket with peak lapels and a hatching pattern, slacks of the same color, and a pair of Oxfords. His only accessory is a Patek Philippe watch his brother had given him.
Since he'd asked Joonwoo to grab dinner while he's getting ready, he has a few minutes to spare before he needs to leave. He checks himself in the full-length mirror in his bedroom a final time and does his waiting in the living room.
Although he hasn't received new notifications, he checks KakaoTalk anyway in case his app is acting up (and a part of him is hoping that's the reason). Sadly, the truth remains that he's read all his chats, and Jisung hasn't responded.
The godforsaken bug returns to haunt him, supply him with shit to think about. While he's able to turn a deaf ear to most of what it's saying, doubt creeps in the spaces between his ribs, its stems and tendrils knotting themselves around his lungs. It's resolute in its goal of inciting perturbation.
Scrolling through his previous exchanges with Jisung, Minho notices that the other's messaging behavior had changed only after their weekend together, after they'd slept together. A chill runs up his spine because the situation is eerily familiar. No, it's not, he tells himself. It's nothing close to that. You're being stupid and neurotic. Stop it.
He stands up from the sofa to get a glass of water; he can't show himself to his friends in this state. To get to the kitchen, he has to pass by the door to his home office slash recreation room. He slows down and stops in front of it, remembering it's where he's keeping the envelope his mother had brought to him. Until now, he has no idea what information it holds, and he hadn't planned on finding out.
Then why haven't you thrown it out?
Minho can't come up with an answer.
Not when he opens the door.
Not when he sees the envelope in one of the locked drawers.
Not when he pulls out the pieces of paper inside.
The first thing he sees is Jisung's face. His hair is shorter in the ID photo, and he has a neutral expression. He's as handsome as always, respectable in a collared shirt, a suit jacket, and a neatly done tie.
Minho then notices that he's looking at a resume. Jisung has been at four different companies since graduating with a bachelor's degree for business as his major and psychology as his minor. The last in the list is what Minho recalls to have been on the old business card Jisung had given him.
"Why did she even bother to get this?" asks Minho to himself. This is the information that had alarmed his mother? It doesn't add up.
But then he moves on to the next document…and his apprehension returns. It's an employment contract from LJS Printing.
The employee's name is Han Jisung.
He's been a sales representative in the company for two years running.
Confused, Minho goes through the last few documents: Jisung's latest salary invoice, his sales quotas, performance reviews, and his scanned company ID. Further proof of his identity.
"He knows who you are. History's already repeating itself." His mother's words fill his head. He hates her for saying such things because now the truth has come to light, and it has rendered his reality a mere illusion. The thing he'd sworn not to fall for again has had him in its grasp all along.
His phone chooses that moment to ring. Joonwoo is calling him. With a slightly shaky hand, he answers and says that he's coming right down. His thoughts are a mess, running a thousand kilometers per hour. With consecutive deep breaths, he composes himself before placing the printouts inside the envelope, which he brings with him to the restaurant. He can't handle this on his own, and he doesn't want to act rashly. He needs to consult his friends.
"There's the Gen ZEO!" greets Hyunjin with plenty of enthusiasm as the two layers of cream and indigo curtains beside him part just enough for Minho to walk into the private dining booth. His eyes sweep over his older friend from head to toe. "You are looking scrumptious tonight, sir."
"Channie-hyung's stuck in traffic, but he'll be here soon," informs Changbin, who's typing on his phone. "Maybe we can order appetizers now…"
"Hyung, are you okay?" asks Hyunjin in a softer tone, prompting Changbin to turn to Minho as well.
Minho sits to Changbin's left at the square table. All of a sudden, he wants to keep his mouth shut about what has happened so he won't ruin his friends' night, but seeing their concerned faces in front of him, he's sure that he'll only worry them if he keeps his feelings to himself.
"I…opened the envelope," he admits.
Changbin responds with, "What?" at the same time that Hyunjin goes, "Why?"
Minho fidgets with his hands under the table. "Something's different with Jisung. He's not as easy to reach anymore, and I feel like I'm the only one putting effort into…this unlabeled thing we have."
"So your solution was to bite the poisoned apple your wicked mother gave you?" Hyunjin doesn't try to sound kind—he's annoyed, and he wants Minho to know it.
"I just thought it might give me a clue as to why he's changed," explains Minho. "We've spent limited time together, so there are still a lot of things we don't know about one another."
"You thought he was hiding something?" asks Changbin. Minho nods reluctantly. "C'mon, hyung, you should've just talked to him if there's something on your mind."
"But I can't!" protests Minho, weeks of frustration bearing fruit. "He won't talk to me for more than five minutes. Just like that, he lost all his time for me. How am I supposed to ask him for an explanation if he's not present? I don't mind carrying our conversations, but it feels like…" He pauses long enough to make sure that he's going to say the right thing. "It feels as though he fucked me just so he can boast to his friends that he slept with one of the richest bachelors in the country."
Hyunjin's frown deepens significantly. "Hold up, hold up, hold. Up. I dunno if I'm hearing this correctly. Are you saying Jisung is like that scumbag ex of yours?"
Minho purses his lips, considers the question, and answers with a quick, "Yes."
Sounds of disapproval come from Hyunjin and Changbin.
"Hey, are you guys starting the party without me?" Chan, who has changed into a more formal attire complete with a tie, enters the booth with a smile, which drops at the sight of his downcast companions.
"Channie-hyung! The voice of reason!" Changbin rises from his seat to grab Chan by the biceps and guides him to the empty chair beside Minho. "Please tell Minho-hyung he's nuts."
Chan makes eye contact with Minho. "What's going on right now?"
"Hyung thinks Jisung fucked him for the same reason his ex dated him," says Hyunjin before Minho can open his mouth.
The statement has Chan's eyebrows shooting up his forehead. He licks his bottom lip and asks, "How did you come to that conclusion, Minho-ya?"
"This." That's when Minho places the envelope on the table.
The other three men blink at it like they have no idea what to do with it, but Chan is quick to take it and removes the contents. They each take a piece of paper and read in silence.
After a long minute, Hyunjin speaks. "He works at LJS. So what?"
"Don't you see? He's aware of my position in the company," says Minho, not understanding why Hyunjin can't see the situation from his perspective. "He knew who I was the second we met, and that's why he made a move on me. I never told him I was vice chairman because I didn't want that the reason for him to be with me, but he made a fool out of me. Now, he's distancing himself because he got what he wanted, and he doesn't plan on sticking around."
Changbin shakes his head. "I dunno, hyung. That sounds like a major reach. Major. Given all the things you've told us Jisung has said and done, you're describing a totally different person."
"I agree," says Hyunjin. "You're letting your mother get to your head. She's the enemy, remember?"
"She was right about Chungho, Hyeonju, and Youngsoo." Minho has no idea why he's defending his prick of a mother, but he'll give credit where credit's due.
"That doesn't mean she's right about Jisung, too," counters Changbin. "And this is really unfair for him, mind you."
"Changbinnie's right," says Chan, his voice gentle but weighty. "You're judging Jisung based on his job—nothing about that is okay. Even if he recognized you at the beginning, it's wrong to assume that he has malicious intentions just because other people with one or two similarities with him hurt you in the past. Relationships are supposed to be founded on trust, yet by keeping things from him, you didn't even give him the benefit of the doubt. I think if I found out someone I'm dating expects the worst from me, I'd be devastated."
Guilt pours over Minho like torrential rain. He'd failed to recognize his selfishness and condescension, the very qualities he despises most in his parents. How could he have been so blind to his own faults and so insensitive as to project them on Jisung, who's shown him nothing but kindness and patience? There are no excuses for what he's done, and he deeply regrets all of it.
His confusion, however, is still there, and it brings with it his loneliness. It seems that his mind had gone to a dark place in search of an answer, but now it has nothing to work with again, and Minho is back at square one.
"Then why?" he asks under his breath.
"Why what, hyung?" asks Hyunjin, calmly this time.
When Minho looks at them, his eyes are glinting with unshed tears. "Why is he doing this to me? If he's not just using me, why is he avoiding me? I'm not asking him to chat with me for hours—I just want us to go back to the way we were, when we'd spare pockets of time in our day to talk and see how the other person's doing. I used to be sure that I was one of his top priorities. Nowadays, I feel as though I'm nothing but entertainment for him when he's bored."
"That part's got me stumped, too," says Chan, "though I think the best solution to this is for you to talk to him in person. Go to his apartment, and if he lets you in, then tell him what's been bothering you. You have to fix this together because there's clearly a disconnect between the two of you."
"Call him first in case he's not at home," suggests Changbin.
"What if he doesn't pick up?" It's a fear Minho has, which is why he hasn't attempted doing anything beyond chatting.
"Then try again tomorrow," replies Hyunjin. "Since he's unresponsive to chats, that's not an option anymore. Calls indicate urgency, so if you phone him, he might better sense the gravity of the situation."
Although it's a daunting task, Minho knows there's no other alternative. Normally, he'd go elsewhere to do this, but having the people he trusts most around him gives him the courage to unlock his phone, go to his list of contacts, and call Jisung's number, which is still saved under 'Pretty Vending Machine Man.'
Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chan wait with bated breath just as Minho is.
One ring. Minho's heart jumps.
Two rings. He's probably about to faint.
Three rings.
"Hello? Hyung?"
After two weeks of not hearing Jisung's voice, Minho is absolutely elated by it. Has it always been so low in timbre and raspy in the edges? In truth, he can't recall what Jisung sounds like on the spot. He's unsure whether it's because of his memory or the stretch of their separation.
"Minho-hyung, are you there?"
"Yes," blurts Minho. His three companions appear slightly relieved. "I'm here. Sorry. Is this a bad time?"
"Umm… Neither good nor bad," says Jisung. "Is something wrong?"
It's now or never. "Yes, there is, and I'd like for us to talk about it as soon as possible. Are you in your apartment right now?
"I am, yeah. Just got in like ten minutes ago, actually."
"Would it be okay for me to come over? I don't think it'd be right to do this over the phone."
"...Oh." Jisung's tone weakens. Minho refuses to speculate on the possible reasons. "Sure, that's fine. Type '401' on the keypad by the door, press 'Enter' then 'Doorbell,' and I'll buzz you in."
"Alright. I'll see you in a while."
"See ya."
After the call drops, Minho's friends visibly relax on their chairs, the heavy tension in the air gone at last.
"Now that that's out of the way," starts Changbin, "it's time to decide whose car we're taking."
Minho raises an eyebrow. "What're you on about?"
"You thought you were going there on your own? Nah, man." Hyunjin reaches into his black waistcoat's breast pocket and pulls out his key fob. "Teamwork makes the dream work, baby."
Smiling, Chan puts his keychain on the table along with Changbin's and Hyunjin's. "We have no idea how this'll go down, but we'll be there for you no matter what."
Thirteen. That's how old Minho was when he met Hyunjin, followed by Chan, and then Changbin. They've been friends for fifteen years. Minho has never felt the strength of their bond as much as he does at that moment. With a smirk, he uses his phone to represent his car before closing his eyes and moving his hands over the four items until Hyunjin says stop.
"Oho!" Changbin proudly grabs his key. "Humblebee wins!"
"I still hate that dumbass name," complains Hyunjin, standing up. "There's nothing humble about that monstrosity of a car—sorry, truck."
"It was either that or 'Humpback.' You wanna hear me say 'hump' every time I talk about my auto?"
"No, but it'd be a treat if you stopped baptizing objects altogether."
They quickly make their way to the basement parking of the hotel where the restaurant is located. Most of the parking spaces are unavailable due to the Friday night crowd. Despite having seen it for years, Minho is still shocked at how gigantic Changbin's Hummer H1 Alpha is; even sports cars and the most expensive luxury cars appear flimsy sitting next to it.
"I have to make a confession," announces Hyunjin while all of them are buckling their seat belts. He's the one in the shotgun seat. "Humblebee is one of the reasons I never agreed to dating you, Changbin-hyung."
A gasp escapes Chan from the back seat.
Changbin gawks at Hyunjin. "Are you shitting me?"
"I just think you're overcompensating a little bit," says Hyunjin, his eyes roaming over the custom interiors. "Plus, all this extra space in a vehicle is hella intimidating. You could probably fit a sofa here"
"I can prove to you that I'm not overcompensating."
"No! " is the collective response to Changbin, whose hands are already on the fly of his pants.
"We're the worst at staying focused as a group," sighs Minho. "Can we deal with my problematic love life first and then whatever it is you two have going on?"
"What we have going on is nothing," says Changbin in an upbeat tone as he starts the car. "I've accepted that Hyunjinie is dating Seungmin, and I'm dating Yongbok."
It's Hyunjin's turn to gawk. "I don't care how unsafe it is to talk and drive—tell us everything."
Changbin follows the route on his T map app to avoid traffic. Behind the wheel, he details how he and Yongbok have gone on three dates, each of them more fun than the last. They'll be seeing each other on the weekend. Minho thinks Changbin's excitement is heartwarming; however, it makes him miss his and Jisung's dates even more.
Once in front of Jisung's apartment building, Minho steps out of the car, but he doesn't go in yet because Changbin lowers Hyunjin's window and says, "If he ends up being a douchebag, ring me up so we can help you get rid of the body."
"Hey, no crimes allowed!" comes Chan's voice.
"Call me if you two kiss and make up," says Hyunjin, "so we'll know to barge into the room and watch."
Minho's window slides down, showing Chan. "I'm the one to call if you prefer privacy, okay?"
"Good luck finding a place to park that whale," comments Minho and proceeds to walk up to the building's entrance. He follows Jisung's instructions. Waits. The night is fairly quiet, owing to the lack of a major road near the neighborhood.
The doors unlock with a metallic click.
By the time Minho's standing in front of apartment 401, his heart is trying to claw its way out of his chest. He can't tell if it's due to the three flights of stairs he's taken or his anxiousness. Nevertheless, there's no backing down now. He goes for the doorbell button.
Not even five seconds go by when Jisung swings the door open. He's wearing a white tee and loose, brown sweatpants, typical house clothes for him, but he also has glasses on, a rectangular pair that's perched low on the bridge of his nose.
Minho is stunned into silence, to say the least.
"Hey, hyung," greets Jisung, flashing a warm smile. "Come in."
Ridiculous as it may be, Minho has to remind himself that he's upset with this beautiful man standing before him. He definitely doesn't want to throw caution to the wind and kiss him stupid. "I didn't know you wore glasses." The indoor slippers he'd used before are already waiting for him on the floor.
"Ah, these are for reading." After closing the door, Jisung goes ahead and heads for the kitchen. When Minho gets to the living room, he's given a glass of water. "The climb here never gets easier."
"Thanks." As he's drinking, Minho observes the apartment. The laptop is turned on, displaying a spreadsheet. Beside it are a raccoon mug—the curved tail serves as the handle—that's half-filled with what seems to be lukewarm coffee plus a small bag of potato chips. Sprawled all over the desk are folders and pieces of paper as well as a notebook opened to a page filled with writing. In the kitchen, there are unwashed dishes in the sink and three other mugs on the counter.
"Sorry about the mess," says Jisung meekly. "I'm a bit behind on chores."
"No, it's fine. I went here on short notice anyway." Minho swallows the last fourth of his water and places the glass among the used mugs. When he turns back around, Jisung has come closer, standing beside the dining table.
"What did you wanna talk about, hyung?"
Jisung's neutral manner of speaking shouldn't bother Minho, except it does. It proves they're not on the same page at all.
Minho leans against the counter a bit, forcing himself to be calm about this. "Why are you avoiding me?" He predicts that Jisung will panic because of the question—it's the natural reaction to being confronted about doing something wrong.
What happens, though, is that Jisung asks, "What? Avoiding… I'm avoiding you? Me?" He even points to himself, his face a portrait of puzzlement.
"Yes. You've been avoiding me. Tell me why."
A shallow laugh tinged with uncertainty spills between Jisung's lips. "That's a joke, right? I'm not avoiding you, hyung."
"Oh, really?" Minho pulls out his mobile and taps the screen until he gets to their chat, which he shows to Jisung from where he is. "Explain this, then."
Jisung sees the gap between the number of his and Minho's messages. "...I already told you: I've gotten busy at work. I mean, look at this." Jisung gestures to his desk. "Why would I spend Friday night in front of my laptop if I didn't have to?"
"Are you sure that's all there is to it?" challenges Minho. "Because I'm busy, too, yet I can still send you messages."
Jisung runs a hand through his hair. "I dunno, hyung. Maybe you're better than me at time management. I'm not used to this, okay? Our workload's never been this intense, and I'm still adjusting to it. Do you really think I don't reply to you because I want to?"
"Yeah," says Minho, "that's exactly it. It's not a Herculean task to keep in touch, Jisung-ah. Even one reply typed in three seconds would suffice, but you don't even do that, so work isn't the issue here."
"It is work," insists Jisung. "You're looking for something that's not there. What other reason could there be?"
Because Minho can tell that Jisung isn't giving him the whole story, he decides to put his theory up as bait. Although it's unlikely to be true, hearing it might push Jisung to explain himself further the way Minho wants him to.
"This isn't the first time I've been treated this way, you know," he begins. "I've been in relationships where people have taken advantage of me. I trusted them and thought they cared about me beyond my identity, but they left after using me. I made the mistake of letting them know who I am, so I concealed that part of myself from you, but it's given me the same outcome. I can't keep—"
"I know who you are."
Minho's stomach drops. When he meets Jisung's gaze, he sees reluctance and determination fighting for dominance. Though the statement can be taken at surface level to mean that Jisung knows Minho’s name and personality, it's his tone that suggests otherwise.
Still, to make sure he’s not mistaken, Minho asks, “You do?”
"You're the vice chairman of LJS," answers Jisung flatly. Hearing the confirmation is a nightmare for Minho, but he stays silent as the other man continues. "Your father, Lee Minseok, is the chairman, and your grandfather, Lee Jaeseok, is the founder. Currently, you're the youngest vice chairman in Korea's top two hundred companies. Did I get any of that wrong?"
Though the desire to leave is strong in Minho, his feet are frozen in place. His mother had told him everything he needed to know, and he'd believed her, but he'd allowed himself to be swayed by his friends, who are biased toward Jisung.
There's a rally of thoughts in his mind—he doesn't know which one to pay attention to. Where does he go from here? What would his parents say? How is he going to prevent this from happening to him again? Is there even a way to escape this?
"No," he says. "You've got your facts right. And you're Han Jisung, an employee at LJS."
Jisung nods. His expression is, strangely enough, solemn. He doesn't appear smug or villainous like Minho's exes had been when he'd confronted them. He's…desolate. "When we met, I thought you looked a bit familiar, but even after you told me your full name, I couldn't figure out where I'd seen you. And then you invited me to your place. That was when I realized who you were because of your family photo. I know what your father looks like—his face is on websites and company newsletters. I'd seen you in the newsletter once, though I'd forgotten about it.
"That's why I got very busy," he explains. "It's not because of LJS; I brought it upon myself, really. I looked for new leads, contacted them, got many of them on the company's services. For my current clients, I went to them personally to encourage them to make LJS their exclusive supplier. I've been working on deals day in and day out because I'm looking to double my monthly quota and get a big bonus. I'd done it before, it burned me out, but I can do it again. I have to because…"
His eyes become glossy, and then a tear rolls down his left cheek. "Because who am I?" he asks, crying. "Next to you, compared to you, who am I? I'm no one." Minho's heart shatters. "I don’t have much to my name, not a lot of accomplishments, either. I'm as average as anyone can be. I didn't feel that I deserved you, so I decided to start working harder to earn more."
"Jisung—"
"I don’t even know what we’re gonna be, if this will work out. You can have anybody, someone who’ll bring you the world. I don’t know how to win against that, but I’ve been trying…because I love you." Minho swipes at his own eyes. He's crying as well. "You understand me in ways no one else does. All this time, I thought I was alone, I was too much for others to tolerate, but I was just giving myself to the wrong people. Being with you is easy, like breathing.
"But it doesn't matter how happy we are together. At the end of the day, you and I are worlds apart. The only way I can be with you is if I'm enough for you, and that's what I've been working toward. I arrive at the office before sunrise and get home at midnight; I have notifications off for apps so I won't get distracted; I stopped hanging out with my friends; but now you're accusing me of lying about everything, and I don't know what to do anymore."
Jisung pauses as an avalanche of emotions manifest as fresh tears, the force of it causing his shoulders to shake and his lips to quiver. "I just can't win with you, can I?" He turns away, burying his face in his hands.
Without another word, Minho goes to him and embraces him. Though Jisung doesn't respond at first, he doesn't let go, kissing Jisung's fingers, temple, and shoulder. Slowly, Jisung unfolds himself; his nose and cheeks are red, and his eyes are slightly swollen.
Minho hands him a handkerchief. He waits for Jisung to calm down further before taking his turn to speak. "I'm sorry, Jisung-ah. I didn't trust you as much as I should have, and I let someone influence how I see you. I made you out to be the bad guy despite everything I know and feel about you.
"From now on, I won't keep anything from you, and I'll take your side even if the world's against you." He slips his hand into Jisung's. "I love you. You make every day worth waking up to, and you're more than enough just as you are. I was in the wrong, but I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you and show how important you are to me—that is, if you'll still have me. I'll understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."
Minho blinks back tears. Even if it's difficult, he won't force Jisung to stay. He'd rather see Jisung happy without him than miserable with him.
"Hyung," says Jisung, "I know this won't be the last hurdle we'll face if we pursue this. The journey's gonna be tough, and we'll probably misunderstand each other on different occasions." The smile that blooms on his face takes Minho's breath away. "But I don't mind going through all that as long as I'm with you. We still have an entire forest to explore, remember?"
Though Minho's vision becomes blurred again, this time, it's out of happiness. He nods, chuckles, and gives Jisung a tender kiss. Neither can stop himself from smiling against the other's mouth.
"I meant to ask, where'd you come from?" asks Jisung when they separate. He traces Minho's lapels with his fingers. "You look really good."
"I was about to have dinner with my friends," answers Minho. An idea strikes him. "Hey, if you aren't too tired yet, you should join us. It's on me."
"Oh? What's the occasion?"
"My project got the green light." It still excites Minho to talk about his initiative. "I'll tell you all about it later. So what do you say? They're waiting somewhere outside, but Changbin's truck is hard to miss."
Jisung's expression turns to panic. "They're outside?! Can't I take a quick shower first?"
"Sure. I'll tell them to wait. Vice chairman powers, you know."
"Oh my God. You're just gonna bring that up casually now, huh?"
"Yup, and you can't do anything about it because I have a ton of corporate jokes up my sleeve."
"...Great. Those won't be annoying at all."
Minho calls Hyunjin to give him an update and to tell him that Jisung needs twenty minutes to get ready. His friends are more than happy to wait, especially because they're having too much fun exchanging recent dating stories.
To use up his time well, Minho goes to Jisung's wardrobe to put together an outfit for him, including shoes and accessories. He places each piece of clothing neatly on the bed. Afterward, he removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves so he can wash the dishes. He's already rinsing the pan when Jisung walks out of the shower wearing a yellow robe.
"Whoa." Jisung looks at what's on his bed and then at Minho. "You arranged this for—hey, I was gonna do that when I came back."
"Now, you don't have to." Minho places the pan on the drying rack and dries his hands before approaching Jisung. "Mmm. That robe's kinda sexy but in a fluffy way."
"Don't even think about it," says Jisung, stepping back. "You brought up dinner, and now I'm hungry. We can do the deed after."
Minho laughs. "'Do the deed'? Even teenagers don't say that."
"I do. So sue me." Jisung is about to untie his robe, but he notices that Minho is staring at him like he's prey. "Hyung, please sit your ass down on the couch, and keep your distance until I have clothes on."
"Dammit." Pouting, Minho goes to the living room, his posture similar to a scolded child. However, he perks up when he realizes how nice his view is of Jisung getting dressed. He admires the lines of muscles that appear and disappear with Jisung's every movement as well as the inks on Jisung's evenly tanned skin. Minho is impatient for dinner to be over.
At the front door, Jisung asks, "Do you think they'll like me, your friends?"
"They like you more than me," answers Minho while putting his shoes on. "I wouldn't be surprised if they disown me as their friend tonight and adopt you." Standing up, he reaches for Jisung's left hand and intertwines their fingers. "Ready, lover?"
Jisung's cheeks are dusted pink when he goes, "Yes, lover, I'm ready."
JISUNG
It might be the fourth time he's trying to say the items on the menu aloud, but Jisung hasn't touched a lick of French in his life, so progress is nil. Before leaving his apartment, Minho had told him over the phone that everything in the restaurant is so good that even if Jisung were to randomly pick a dish, he'd praise it to the high heavens.
Jisung, however, doesn't back away from challenges, not to mention his friends have yet to arrive, which is why he's spending his minutes guessing the pronunciation of words like 'basquaise' and 'coquillette.' In his mind, they rhyme with 'mayonnaise' and 'toilet' respectively.
"Ji!" comes a hushed voice.
Taking his eyes off the menu, Jisung sees one of the sharply dressed waiters guiding Yongbok, Seungmin, and Jeongin to the table. He uses the menu to cover his large grin—the latter two men are obviously trying not to ooh and aah at the new surroundings, something he himself had done mentally when he'd first come in.
Once the newcomers have taken their seats, the waiter provides them each with a menu along with a list of wines and beverages. Yongbok, the only one among them who drinks alcohol beyond beer and soju, orders a bottle of Prosecco for the table to start.
"And room-temp water, please," adds Jisung. Although it's comfortably warm in the restaurant and a cold drink would be fine to have, lukewarm is usually the group's preference if it's not summer.
While the waiter fetches the drinks, they chat about which hors d'oeuvres to get and the interiors of the restaurant, particularly the impressive color scheme of deep blue and copper for everything from the plush seats and tables to the walls and ceiling. It's fascinating for them since the other establishments they've been to use safe, typical combinations like white and gold.
"We'd like the lobster carpaccio, baked escargot, and sweet pea salad," says Jisung after their glasses are filled, "but we need more time to decide on the mains."
The waiter takes notes on a small pad of paper. "Very well, sir. I'll be right back with your food."
"How'd you find this place?" asks Seungmin to the person who'd suggested it.
"It was Minho-hyung's idea," answers Jisung, sounding proud.
"Not to be a bummer," says Yongbok, "but he's your boss, right?" Jisung nods. "How are you allowed to date him? Aren't there rules for office relationships or whatever?"
Jisung does a dismissive hand gesture. "It's not illegal—just a social taboo. Being gay's also taboo, so Minho-hyung and I will be playing tic-tac-toe with Korean society until we're cast out by the straights."
Jeongin snickers into his glass of wine. "Are you gonna disappear again after this, hyung? Or are you free from the chains of modern toil?"
"Thankfully, I can relax now since I've exceeded my quota this month by 75%. It also helps that my man's loaded."
"Eeeyy, cheers to that!" beams Yongbok. They clink glasses in the middle of the table. "You're a beast, Ji. I wouldn't survive two weeks of voluntary overtime. I need my gaming time and beauty rest."
"You know me: I commit to every role. You could say I'm a method actor. And I'm not gonna waste the fact that the universe decided to drop someone like Minho-hyung in front of me. That's a first. Oh, hey, he told me about you and Changbin-hyung. Is he as big in real life as he is in photos?"
"So much bigger, holy shit." Suddenly flustered, Yongbok sets his glass down and moves his hands around while talking. "We were supposed to have a nice dinner on the first date, but I ended up sucking him off in the bathroom, and we ordered takeout after fucking in his condo."
"It's been a while since you misbehaved on a date," observes Seungmin. "He must check all the boxes for you."
"He totally does. And get this: he offered to get me the gaming rig I've been wanting for months."
"How'd you score that so fast?" asks Jisung, wide-eyed. "Didn't you meet two weeks ago?"
Yongbok shrugs and leans back on his chair, smugness all over his face. "I used my tried-and-true technique, what else?"
"Asking for things right after sex is too unsubtle for me," comments Jeongin. "There needs to be a buffer so I can get what I want without raising suspicion."
"If it's not working for you, you're not doing it right," says Yongbok. "You have to be as indirect about it as possible. For instance, I told Changbin-hyung that I'm saving up to revamp my current PC setup, which is true. I'm halfway there. And then I was like, 'I'm thinking of getting a second job so I can gift it to myself for Christmas,' and he said, 'You don't have to do that. Tell me where to buy everything, and I'll have it delivered to your doorstep.'" The other men's mouths hang open. "I said I'll think about it because accepting on the spot would give me away. I drained his balls that night to seal the deal."
After a short pause, Jisung remarks, "You're indeed an inspiration to us all."
The men switch to small talk about the chilly autumn weather when the waiter returns and arranges the plates of food on the table, but they drop the subject as soon as he's gone again.
Jisung catches Seungmin's gaze. "How're you and Hyunjin?"
"We're fine," says Seungmin after trying the escargot. "I'm moving in with him soon."
Yongbok stops chewing. "What?"
"You just said that like it's not a big deal," says Jisung.
"Because it isn't." Seungmin goes for the carpaccio next. "We spend a lot of time at his place anyway—last week, I stayed there for three consecutive nights—so living together is logical for us."
"Where does he live again? Yongsan?" asks Jeongin while transferring salad onto his plate.
"Yup. He bought a house there. He doesn't like high-rise living because it means his dogs won't have a yard to play in. I'll invite you guys over once I've settled in. Hyunjin loves visitors because the house is too big for one person."
"I'm RVSPing in advance," chuckles Jisung. "That's a huge deal, though, especially for you! You've never lived with anybody you're dating."
Seungmin smiles. "All in good time, I guess. The other people I've slept with had nothing going for them apart from their looks and money. Hyunjin's actually fun to be with—in bed or otherwise."
"Ah, modern romance," coos Yongbok. "Jeongin-ah, tell Ji about the girl you met online."
Jisung gasps. "Our baby has bagged someone, too?"
"Her name's Danbi," starts Jeongin, "the only daughter of a hotel tycoon."
"Are you serious? Danbi as in Jang Danbi?" Jeongin gives an affirmative response. "Good for you! Oh my gosh, that's wild. But I thought she lives in the States."
"She's been here since the start of the year. We matched on an app, hit it off, and she asked me out."
"See, that's your signature move," Yongbok points out. "You act like Prince Charming, but you never initiate the chase to make the other person think you have no ulterior motive whatsoever. Brilliant."
"I swear I didn't think she was that into me until she said she wants to meet up," giggles Jeongin.
"Anyone who doesn't find you adorable has no taste," comments Seungmin. "I'm sure you won't have a problem knocking this one out of the park since you're a relationship expert."
Jeongin rolls his eyes. "Not this again. I'm not an expert, okay? It's easy to win and keep someone's heart if from the very beginning they already like you more than you like them. You just have to keep the momentum going, you know?"
"Exactly what an expert would advise," says Jisung before grinning at all of them with fondness. "Look at us. We've all come so far, from working shitty part-time jobs in college to dolling ourselves up and attracting the richest of the rich. The risks we've taken to get here are no joke, but we've done it. I dare say this is our best catch yet. Fuck everyone who ever looked down on us and mocked us. Money can buy happiness, and it does make the world go round. People are envious because we've learned to make the system work for us."
"They should try paying the bills with love," snarks Yongbok, "the first step toward bankruptcy. Makes me sick just thinking about it."
"It pisses me off that it's acceptable to say you prefer a partner who's intelligent or physically fit or funny," remarks Jeongin, "but it's wrong to look for someone with a massive bank account. I don't need a person who'll get me off—I can do that myself anytime. I can cuddle with my pillows. I can go to the movies by myself. What I need is a credit card that's not mine to go on a shopping spree with."
"We're not hurting anyone anyway," adds Seungmin. "We get all the luxuries we want from our partners, and we give them time, attention, and our bodies. That's a pretty fair exchange, if you ask me."
Jisung smirks and points to the left side of his chest where his heart is. "They're not getting this, though."
"Well, you're not supposed to give away the most valuable and fragile part of yourself. We've all done that, haven't we?"
"Worst decision ever," whines Yongbok after swallowing the remainder of his wine. Their waiter appears out of nowhere to top up their glasses. "That's no way to live."
"True, true," says Jisung and goes on to raise his glass. "To us and all the sirens who know what they deserve and do everything to attain happiness despite others' judgment, may we continue to get the last laugh and sleep on Egyptian cotton sheets every night while our green-eyed critics suffer on cold floors in winter. Cheers!"
Yongbok, Seungmin, and Jeongin join him with bright smiles on their beautiful faces. "Cheers!"