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jisung woke up exactly four minutes before his alarm went off. his phone lay face down on the bedside table, its black screen reflecting the faint, dusty morning light leaking in through the blinds.
he didn’t need to look at it to know how much time had passed, how much sleep he hadn’t gotten. his body felt heavy, yet his mind buzzed with that restless electricity that had kept him tossing and turning all night. minho’s voice still echoed in his head, clear as if the call hadn’t ended hours ago.
“i want to show you something. in my hometown.”
jisung had begged for more, whined in that way that always made minho laugh softly, but of course minho hadn’t given in. he never did when it came to surprises.
and so, jisung had lain there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, rolling over every five minutes like maybe a new position would magically let him fall asleep. but every time his eyes closed, his mind wandered: what if minho was planning something big? what if it was something scary? what if - god, jisung hated not knowing.
when the alarm finally went off at nine, jisung was already sitting up, hair a wild halo around his head, eyes still sticky from lack of sleep. he slapped the alarm off before it could blare its second ring, groaning as he rubbed his face with both hands.
the first thing he did was check his messages. nothing new from minho. of course. jisung rolled his eyes at the empty notification bar like it had personally offended him, then tossed his phone onto the bed with a little more force than necessary.
he shuffled into the bathroom, dragging his feet like he was auditioning for a zombie role. his reflection in the mirror made him wince. his eyes were puffy, his cheeks smushed from sleeping sideways, and his hair looked like he’d lost a fight with the pillow. he leaned closer to the mirror, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. “you look like you’ve been through war,” he muttered to himself, though his lips twitched into a small smile because he knew minho would tease him for it anyway.
the shower helped. warm water poured over his shoulders, down his back, loosening the knots of tension that had built up from his sleepless night.
jisung stayed under the spray for longer than necessary, zoning out, letting his thoughts drift to minho again. what kind of “something” could require a trip to jeonju-si? a place minho rarely talked about, except in passing. jisung tried to piece together clues from their conversations - family, old friends, favourite places - but the puzzle only made his chest twist tighter with anticipation.
after the shower, he padded back into his room wrapped in a towel, hair dripping onto the floorboards. he stared at his open wardrobe for a full five minutes, towel sliding down his shoulder, before sighing dramatically.
what was he even supposed to wear for a mystery trip? casual? something a little nicer, in case minho was planning something special? jisung bit his lip, then grabbed a couple of options, tossing them onto the bed.
he ended up changing outfits three times. first a plain t-shirt and jeans - too boring. then a button-up shirt and slacks - too formal. finally, he settled on a soft oversized sweater and black jeans, comfortable but still presentable.
he stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of his sweater, turning left and right like the answer would magically appear in his reflection.
“it’s fine,” he told himself, pointing at the mirror as if to convince his reflection. “minho doesn’t care what you wear. he likes you even when you look like… this.” he gestured vaguely at his still-messy hair and the faint bags under his eyes.
his stomach growled, breaking his thoughts. jisung shuffled into the kitchen and made himself some instant coffee, the bitter smell filling the small apartment. he poured it into his favourite chipped mug and leaned against the counter, sipping slowly, eyes unfocused. the caffeine hit almost immediately, giving him just enough energy to stop leaning like a half-dead sloth.
breakfast was an afterthought. jisung opened the fridge, stared at the half-empty shelves, and pulled out some leftover kimbap from last night.
he ate sitting cross-legged on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone while chewing. every couple of minutes, he’d glance at the time in the corner of the screen, his chest tightening a little more each time.
after eating, he found himself pacing. from the couch to the kitchen, to the bedroom, then back again. the hours stretched thin and slow, but somehow his nerves made them feel shorter.
he kept checking his bag - wallet, phone charger, earbuds - like things might disappear if he didn’t. he debated packing snacks for the ride, then decided against it, then changed his mind again and stuffed a granola bar into the side pocket.
by noon, jisung was sitting on the edge of his bed, bouncing his knee furiously. he tried writing lyrics to pass the time, his notebook spread open across his lap, pen tapping against the page.
but every line turned into something about minho - about surprises, about not knowing, about waiting. he groaned, dropped the pen, and flopped backward onto the bed, covering his face with his hands.
when his phone buzzed with a notification - just a weather update - his heart leapt anyway. he grabbed it like it might suddenly reveal minho’s plans, but of course it didn’t. jisung threw it back onto the bed with another groan.
by two, jisung was showered, dressed, fed, caffeinated, and still restless. he cleaned up his apartment just to kill time - folding laundry, wiping the counters, reorganizing his desk. every little creak of the building made him whip his head toward the door, half-expecting minho to show up early, though he knew he wouldn’t.
around three, jisung gave up pretending to be calm. he sat on the floor by the window, earbuds in, playing soft music to keep his nerves in check. he fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater, tugging them over his hands, biting at his lip, humming along absentmindedly.
when the clock finally blinked 3:45, jisung shot up like he’d been electrified. he grabbed his bag, checked his reflection one last time, ruffled his hair in an attempt to make it look “effortlessly messy,” and stood by the door. heart pounding, palms sweating, he waited for the knock he knew was coming.
and that’s where his morning, and afternoon, ended - jisung standing by the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet, wide awake now in every sense of the word, waiting for minho.
the knock on the door came softer than jisung expected. not the hurried, sharp kind that might match the pace of jisung’s heart, but the gentle kind that only minho ever did, like he already knew jisung was standing right there, waiting.
jisung flung the door open too quickly, almost stumbling forward, and there was minho - hands in his pockets, that small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, eyes crinkling the way jisung secretly adored.
before jisung could say anything - before he could even scold minho for making him wait all morning without a single hint - minho leaned in and kissed him. it wasn’t hurried, wasn’t heated, just soft, grounding. the kind of kiss that said i missed you and calm down, i’m here now all at once.
jisung froze for half a second, then melted, tilting into it, his hand automatically reaching for minho’s sleeve. when minho pulled back, his lips brushed jisung’s temple in a feather-light kiss, warm and fleeting, but enough to make jisung’s chest feel too tight, too full.
“ready?” minho asked, voice low, casual, as if jisung hadn’t been a restless mess since last night.
jisung nodded quickly, grabbing his bag with one hand and minho’s wrist with the other. “ready,” he said, though his heart was still racing.
-
the car ride started off quiet, save for the faint hum of the engine and the soft playlist minho had put on. jisung tried, for maybe two whole minutes, to sit calmly in the passenger seat, hands folded in his lap, eyes fixed on the blur of the city rolling past the window. but the silence only made his mind louder, curiosity bubbling up until it spilled out.
“so… jeonju-si,” jisung began, trying to sound casual, though his voice betrayed his eagerness. “what are we doing there? are you gonna introduce me to your family? is this a family thing? oh god, is it- wait, no, you would’ve told me if it was, right?”
minho didn’t answer. his eyes stayed on the road, face unreadable, though jisung swore he saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he was fighting a smile.
“okay, so not family,” jisung continued, bouncing slightly in his seat. “then friends? old classmates? a childhood friend you want me to meet? or–or maybe it’s a place. like a favorite spot, right? a park? or some secret cafe? do you guys have a cat cafe in jeonju? is it cats? oh my god, if it’s cats, i’ll cry.”
still nothing. minho reached over to adjust the volume on the playlist, his expression calm, focused.
jisung gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “you’re seriously not gonna tell me? after i didn’t sleep all night thinking about this? minho, i’m dying here.”
minho glanced at him briefly, eyes soft, before returning to the road. jisung could’ve sworn he saw the faintest curve of a smirk.
“oh, i see how it is,” jisung muttered, crossing his arms with exaggerated flair. “you’re enjoying this. you like watching me suffer. you’re evil. evil, lee minho.”
he lasted about thirty seconds in silence before leaning forward again, chin propped on his palm as he stared at minho’s profile. “at least give me a hint. just one. like… is it outdoors? indoors? do i need to have, like, survival skills? because you didn’t tell me to pack anything, and if this is a camping trip, i swear-”
minho lifted one hand off the wheel and gently flicked jisung’s forehead. not hard, just enough to make jisung yelp and glare at him. “hey!” jisung rubbed the spot dramatically. “abuse. actual abuse.”
the silence stretched again, filled only by the soft melody of the playlist. jisung tapped his fingers against his knee, bounced his leg, shifted in his seat, and finally groaned loudly, slumping against the window. “you’re impossible. impossible, minho. i don’t even know why i date you.”
but when minho’s hand slid over to rest on jisung’s thigh, warm and steady, jisung went quiet instantly. his lips pressed together, trying not to smile, but the heat rising in his cheeks gave him away.
they drove like that for a while, jisung’s head leaning against the window, watching the scenery change as the city melted into stretches of countryside. fields rolled past, dotted with houses and clusters of trees, the sky opening wider and brighter above them.
jisung’s curiosity simmered, still restless, but the weight of minho’s hand on his thigh anchored him, kept him from spinning completely out of control.
every so often, jisung would open his mouth, a new question ready to spill out, but one glance at minho - focused, calm, lips curving ever so slightly - was enough to make the words die on his tongue.
the car filled with quiet warmth, a steady rhythm of tires on the road, music humming low, and jisung’s own thoughts bouncing between impatience and the comfort of just being there, next to minho.
and that was how the ride went - jisung restless, minho quiet, the world passing by outside, the anticipation building with every mile.
by the time they rolled into jeonju-si, the sun was already sinking low, painting the sky in colors that looked too much like a dream. oranges bled into soft pinks, streaked with gold and fading blues, and the buildings they passed seemed to glow as though the whole city had been dipped in warm light.
jisung pressed his cheek to the cool glass of the window, wide-eyed, taking it all in. there was something softer here than seoul’s rush, something slower, more deliberate. he couldn’t name it, but he felt it settling in his chest, humming alongside the quiet anticipation he’d carried all day.
minho turned onto a narrow street lined with neatly kept houses, their tiled roofs silhouetted against the fiery sky. flower pots decorated some porches, wind chimes swayed lazily in the evening breeze, and the streetlamps flickered on one by one, casting a mellow golden glow across the pavement. minho pulled over, shifted the car into park, and without a word, unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out.
jisung blinked, startled by the suddenness of it. he looked around, heart thudding, trying to piece together where exactly they were, but before he could, his door swung open. minho stood there, the fading sunlight washing his face in warm orange, his expression soft, unreadable in the way that always drove jisung crazy. he extended a hand.
“c’mon, baby,” minho said, voice low, steady, but gentle enough to make jisung’s chest ache.
jisung blinked up at him, lips parting without words. for a moment, he just stared at the hand offered to him, the long fingers, the familiar warmth waiting there. slowly, hesitantly, like he was stepping into something fragile, jisung slipped his hand into minho’s. the touch was grounding, real. minho gave the smallest tug, coaxing him out of the car.
the air outside was cooler than jisung expected, carrying the faint smell of grass and something savory from a house nearby.
jisung looked around, eyes darting from one detail to another - the well-kept houses, the small garden plots, the narrow street that seemed to stretch endlessly. the streetlamps glowed softly, their light spilling golden circles onto the pavement, and above them, the sky deepened to a richer shade of pink.
“it’s… beautiful,” jisung whispered without meaning to, his words half-swallowed by the quiet of the street.
minho didn’t respond right away, just gave his hand a gentle squeeze before tugging him forward, as if the world here belonged to him, and jisung was just being shown its corners. jisung followed, cheeks warming, his fingers tightening shyly around minho’s.
the questions slipped out naturally. “so, this is your neighbourhood? you grew up around here?”
minho glanced at him, and this time he didn’t stay silent. a soft smile spread across his face, one that reached his eyes. “yeah. i lived three streets over. used to ride my bike up and down here until my mom yelled at me to come back in.”
jisung’s lips curled into a grin, eyes shining. “you? on a bike? did you have, like, a little basket in front?”
“mm, no basket,” minho said, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “but i did crash into that lamppost over there once.” he nodded toward an old streetlamp at the corner, still glowing faintly golden.
jisung laughed, the sound carrying softly in the evening air. “oh my god, i can see it. little minho, flying down the street like he’s in a race, then bam.” he mimed a collision, making a dramatic face that made minho chuckle quietly beside him.
they walked slowly, hand in hand, minho answering every question with that same gentle smile. jisung asked about which house had the best halloween candy, where minho and his friends played tag, if he’d ever gotten in trouble for sneaking out.
minho told him about climbing trees in the nearby park, about his neighbor who kept stray cats, about the bakery that used to sit at the end of the street but closed years ago.
each story painted the place with new colors, layering over the sunset glow until jisung felt like he could see it - not just the street now, but the street as minho had lived it. the version of it that had raised him, shaped him.
the light around them softened as the sun sank lower, the sky deepening from orange to dusky purple at the edges. shadows stretched longer, streetlamps glowing brighter as if to fill the gaps.
jisung found himself slowing down, not because he was tired, but because he wanted to stretch this moment, hold it still before night truly took over.
he looked at minho beside him, the way his face caught the fading light, and thought - not for the first time - that being let into these parts of minho’s world, his past, his memories, was something precious.
the evening slipped into night almost seamlessly, the deep purples and indigos of the sky swallowing the last traces of sunset. one by one, the streetlamps along the quieter streets flickered to life, glowing soft and golden, casting warm pools of light on the pavement.
jisung felt the calmness of the neighborhood pressing into him, soaking into his chest - but then minho tugged gently at his hand, pulling him out of that stillness and into something else entirely.
“come on,” minho said, voice carrying just enough firmness to spark curiosity, “it’s almost time.”
jisung blinked at him, half tripping over his own feet as he was pulled forward. “time? time for what?” his voice carried that restless energy again, bubbling with anticipation he’d been nursing all day. under the glow of the lamps, his wide eyes looked almost luminous, like they themselves held little flickers of light.
minho didn’t answer, of course. not directly. he only glanced at jisung, lips twitching into that small, secretive smile, and shook his head. “you’ll see.”
that answer only made jisung’s pulse kick harder.
they moved out of the quieter residential streets and toward a busier part of town. suddenly, the silence jisung had grown used to cracked open into something far livelier - shops spilling warm light onto the sidewalks, voices rising and blending in the air, the shuffle of feet and laughter bouncing between buildings.
families strolled past with children tugging eagerly at their hands, couples leaned into each other as they walked, and groups of friends weaved in and out of small restaurants and cafés. the smell of sizzling food and roasted chestnuts drifted in the breeze, mixing with the faint sweetness of something floral.
jisung’s head turned constantly, eyes darting from one corner to the next. his lips parted in awe at the sight of it all, this blend of cozy and vibrant, so different from the overwhelming rush of seoul.
“woah,” he whispered, almost to himself, though minho caught it and smiled faintly.
but minho didn’t let him linger in the crowd. after a few minutes, he steered jisung toward a side street, quieter, where the hum of voices dulled to a faint murmur. they stopped near a small square, framed by older buildings whose windows were glowing faintly, the crowd not reaching this far.
minho checked his phone, the screen lighting up his features in the dark. “okay,” he said after a moment, slipping the device back into his pocket, “just in time.”
jisung tilted his head at him, confused. “just in time for what?”
instead of answering, minho turned fully toward him, his hand finding jisung’s waist with an easy familiarity. he tugged jisung closer, close enough that jisung could feel the steady beat of his heart through the layers of fabric between them.
jisung exhaled shakily, arms rising instinctively to loop around minho’s waist, pressing himself against him like that was where he belonged.
“just two more minutes, baby,” minho murmured, his voice dropping low and warm. he pressed a kiss to jisung’s hair, lingering there for a moment.
jisung’s instinct was to push, to question, to keep pestering the way he always did. but something in minho’s tone, in the way his arms felt around him, made him go still instead. quiet.
he buried his face against minho’s chest, inhaling that faint scent that was so distinctly him, and let his body relax into the embrace. his fingers tightened against minho’s sides, holding him close.
the two minutes stretched, heavy with expectation. jisung found himself listening to everything - the faint shuffle of footsteps in the distance, the low hum of voices from farther streets, the steady rhythm of minho’s breathing. the world seemed to hold its breath, and jisung held his too without realizing it.
“sungie,” minho’s voice broke the quiet, soft, careful. jisung’s head tilted up automatically at the sound of his name, his eyes searching minho’s face under the pale glow of the lamps. his lips parted, ready to ask what is it, what’s happening-
and then, without warning, the world fell into darkness.
every streetlamp, every glowing shop window, every flicker of light from houses around them blinked out at once, plunging the town into a heavy, velvety black. jisung’s breath caught in his throat.
“what–” he started, eyes darting wildly as his heart leapt. his hands tightened instinctively on minho’s waist, the sudden absence of light making his chest constrict. “min..?” his voice trembled just slightly, not with fear, but confusion.
minho’s face was barely visible now, only shadows and outlines, but jisung felt the brush of lips against his forehead, warm and deliberate. “just look, baby,” minho whispered.
jisung blinked, disoriented, trying to find minho’s eyes in the dark, but he couldn’t see clearly enough. instead, he turned his head, squinting into the black that swallowed the town-
and then he saw them.
tiny sparks of light, glowing faintly at first, then brighter, multiplying. fireflies. hundreds of them, scattered across the street and rising into the air, blinking and glowing like living stars. they drifted above rooftops, floated lazily near the ground, flickered in the air between the darkened buildings.
jisung’s lips parted, his breath catching in his throat. the entire town seemed transformed, no longer dark but glowing, alive. every direction he turned, the fireflies lit the night, their soft golden pulses dancing against the darkness. it looked unreal, like the sky itself had spilled its stars down to earth.
his eyes widened, reflecting the glow, his entire face softened with awe. he forgot to breathe for a moment, forgot even to speak.
his hand tightened around minho’s shirt as if to ground himself, his chest aching with something too big, too overwhelming to name. wonder, disbelief, love - it all tangled together as he whispered, almost reverent, “minho…”
but he didn’t ask any more questions. not this time. he just looked, let himself be swallowed whole by the magic of it, by the quiet miracle minho had brought him here to see.
jisung couldn’t tear his eyes away. the fireflies flickered everywhere - on the pavement, between the trees, hovering in the air like lanterns that had slipped free from their strings. some glowed in soft, steady pulses, others blinked quickly like shy sparks.
the whole street was alive, not with noise, but with quiet magic, as though the town itself had decided to hold its breath for this one moment.
jisung leaned closer into minho without even realizing it, his cheek brushing against the fabric of minho’s shirt. “...what is this?” he finally breathed, voice small, as though speaking too loudly might scare the lights away.
minho’s arm around his waist tightened, pulling him a little closer. jisung could feel the warmth of his body, steady and grounding in the middle of all this. “it’s called the fireflies festival,” minho murmured, his voice carrying that familiar calm, low and certain. “it happens here every year. the whole town turns off the lights for a few minutes, so the fireflies can be seen properly. when i was a kid, i used to wait all year for this.”
jisung turned his head, eyes snapping up to minho’s face as if to check if he was serious, but in the faint glow of the fireflies, minho’s expression was soft, unguarded. his lips tugged upward slightly, not into the teasing smirk jisung knew so well, but into something quieter, nostalgic.
“every year?” jisung echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.
minho nodded, eyes flickering toward the glowing air around them. “mm. my parents would bring me here. sometimes i’d run off with friends, chasing the fireflies, trying to catch them in jars. but i always ended up just watching them like this.” he paused, letting his gaze linger on the scene, then lowered it to meet jisung’s. “i wanted you to see it too.”
jisung’s chest tightened. he didn’t know what to say at first. words swelled and tangled at the back of his throat - gratitude, amazement, something dangerously close to tears - but none of them seemed right. instead, he just held onto minho, both arms curling tighter around his waist like he was afraid the moment would slip away if he let go.
“minho…” jisung started again, softer this time, almost fragile. “it’s… it’s beautiful. i’ve never…” he trailed off, shaking his head as if the words weren’t enough. “i’ve never seen anything like this.”
minho leaned down a little, his forehead brushing briefly against jisung’s temple, then resting there for a second. “i knew you’d like it,” he said simply, and jisung felt the words vibrate against his skin.
jisung stood frozen in the glow, his breath still caught somewhere in his chest. the fireflies swirled and pulsed all around them, each light a tiny heartbeat in the dark, and yet - his gaze kept dragging back to minho. not the fireflies, not the magic unfolding in front of him, but the man holding him steady through it all.
minho’s arm hadn’t loosened once, snug around jisung’s waist like it belonged there. he leaned in slightly, the faintest smile tugging at his lips, and said quietly, “this festival… it’s something beautiful.”
jisung’s lips parted, ready to agree, to nod frantically because yes, yes, it was beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.
but then minho’s eyes flicked down at him, soft in a way that melted straight through every barrier jisung had. his voice dropped lower, warmer, the words carrying with them an intimacy that settled directly into jisung’s chest.
“something beautiful,” minho murmured again, his thumb brushing gently at jisung’s side, “like you.”
jisung’s mind blanked. utterly, completely blanked.
the fireflies could’ve vanished in that instant and he wouldn’t have noticed. the whole town could’ve gone silent or loud or collapsed around them and it wouldn’t have mattered.
all jisung felt was the weight of those words, simple and direct, but spoken with a sincerity that left him trembling.
his cheeks burned instantly, so hot it was almost painful. he ducked his head, trying to hide it in the space between them, but minho was too close, his presence too steady.
jisung pressed his face against minho’s chest instead, muffling the small, breathless laugh that escaped him.
“you can’t–” jisung mumbled, his voice muffled in fabric. “you can’t just say stuff like that out of nowhere. it’s illegal, actually. i’m suing.”
he felt minho chuckle above him, low and amused. “you’re suing me for complimenting you?”
jisung groaned dramatically, clutching harder at his waist. “yes. for emotional damage. look at me, i’m–i’m literally melting. you’re too much.”
but when he tilted his head up, peeking at minho through his lashes, his wide eyes betrayed everything. wonder, disbelief, that sharp ache of being loved in a way that felt overwhelming.
minho looked down at him with the kind of patience jisung wasn’t sure he deserved, his gaze steady, unwavering even as jisung squirmed.
the fireflies danced above them, tiny sparks drifting lazily in the air, and jisung swore the whole scene could’ve been pulled out of a painting.
the golden glow flickered across minho’s face, catching in his eyes, brushing against the curve of his jaw. jisung swallowed hard, his heart thumping painfully loud in his ears.
“you’re ridiculous,” jisung whispered, though his voice was shaking, softer than before. “but… thank you.”
minho leaned in just enough for his nose to brush jisung’s hair, pressing another kiss there, unhurried and certain. “don’t thank me,” he murmured, his breath stirring the strands near jisung’s ear. “you deserve to see things like this. things as beautiful as you are.”
jisung froze again, his hands curling tighter in the back of minho’s shirt. his throat felt tight, like if he tried to speak, everything would spill out at once - all the love he hadn’t figured out how to say yet. instead, he just nodded faintly against minho’s chest, holding onto him like he might never let go.
for a long while, neither of them said anything. the world was dark but alight, painted in gold and shadow, and jisung let himself sink into the rhythm of minho’s breathing, the warmth of his hand at his side, the soft hum of night around them.
and when jisung finally opened his eyes again, tilting his head back to watch the fireflies scatter higher into the sky, he felt it - the quiet certainty that this moment, this memory, would stay etched into him forever.