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This year Minho invited Jisung to spend Christmas with his family.
His own family remained in Malaysia, but he could go home for Christmas, theoretically. He had done so before. But he also wanted not to be subjected to the screech of his 3 nieces and nephews or meaningless small talk and probing questions about when he would bring home a nice girl for three days straight. They still didn't understand that he wanted to bring home neither a girl nor a guy nor anyone else for that matter.
He would bring Minho, but that was entirely different, and he wouldn't even try to make them understand that when he didn't even fully understand why Minho was different. Different from anyone else.
So Jisung was glad. Relieved. Felt a tiny bit guilty but mostly relieved from the tight coil in his chest, even though he still loved them very much. They were just so loud, and he needed Minho, his gentle quietness and weird quirks puzzling into his own like a matching piece.
It had been an ordinary Wednesday, and Jisung could only remember because he had been more anxious that day and the world had felt too big and the dreadful Christmas party too close, but Minho knew and had made him an iced americano, keeping him company on the sofa while he binged a docu-series about colourful butterflies.
And because Minho was Minho, he had read through him like he was an open book, carefully picking through pages even Jisung couldn't read.
Minho invited him with an easy, "Sung-ah, wanna come spend Christmas with me at home?" because he knew that Jisung desperately wanted to visit the cats and Minho's parents and really only stay with Minho just a bit longer.
Jisung already knew that this Christmas would be better than all the others. Different but in the good kind. Change that didn't make his skin crawl but left a comfortable warmth.
***
Minho drove them to Gimpo because Jisung didn't drive, and Minho liked to bring him everywhere he needed to go. He took a comfortable blanket with him, and Minho lent him his neck pillow so Jisung could nap for a bit whenever he felt like it.
He always slept worse before going on a trip, a thousand little things springing through his mind, flashes only soothed by Minho's meticulous plan of packing, insistent on only taking the bare minimum and a stack of the quality canned tuna for emergencies, because they both knew that Minho would carry the bags, no matter how heavy.
They had started early in the day because Minho was awake already and Jisung would sleep anyway, piling their belongings into the backspace of Minho's car. The only thing Jisung took himself being the small cooling bag with Minho's gift. He didn't wanna ruin the surprise.
The drive passed quickly with Minho letting him dictate the playlist whenever he was awake, Minho's soft, soothing vocals harmonising well with his own, lulling him to sleep faster than nothing else could, the road becoming hazy around him. Snacks were getting passed off into his hands whenever Minho had the feeling that he should eat.
He felt Minho's small hand on his thigh, resting there, grounding them both. Minho liked to touch him like he was his personal fidget toy, and Jisung liked being comfort for Minho. It was a good, warm feeling.
Even though they had started early, the winter sun started dipping again when they pulled up to Minho's home, in a quiet street with homes that had gardens and space to breathe.
Some of the houses were decorated with pretty lights, like Minho's home, his parents already waiting outside, waving for them because Jisung had shot them a quick message when they had passed the convenience store in the small town's centre.
It was only a walking distance from there. He remembered last summer when Minho had taken him home and they'd eaten ice cream in the shadows of a great tree, the air sticky with humidity, but Minho's shoulder pressed against his, making the heat bearable as he let him blabber whatever thought shot through his mind, humming occasionally, content.
Back then he had gotten the number of Minho's eomma too, over a nice afternoon staring at the bugs buzzing behind the window to the flower-filled garden. He liked chatting with Minho's eomma; she was kind and nice, giving good advice when he knew his own eomma wouldn't understand.
Minho's parents waited and only hugged him when Jisung threw himself in their arms, skin buzzing, bouncing on his feet with giddy anticipation, while Minho took his turn greeting them, a soft smile on his face, feline eyes softened with the cold painting a pink flush on his cheeks.
He really looked forward to Christmas this time. No pretences or weird questions. Minho's parents understood. He loved them.
Minho's appa asked about the drive while they were ushered inside, Minho's hand tight in his own, the house smelling faintly like fresh mint and citrus from the homemade cleaner Minho used for their apartment as well, a family recipe.
It was only the 23nd, so after they had greeted the cats appropriately, the evening was quiet. He liked that Minho's parents didn't change a thing whenever they would visit; they just included them in whatever they usually did.
Minho helped in the kitchen, and Jisung kept them company, legs dangling from where Minho had sat him on the kitchen island, the conversation flowing easily, Minho asking about his brother's shenanigans, and airy giggles of delight falling from Minho's lips at all of the little things he had missed. There was little that made him smile brighter like his cats.
Dinner was delicious, spent pressed against Minho on the small kitchen bench, basking in Minho's attention. Jisung was glad there was nothing more to it. Nothing special at all, except for how it was exactly like he imagined a family dinner that didn't leave him depleted.
Later, he called his eomma like a dutiful son, curled up on the couch while Minho played with the cats, letting Dori climb over him, Soonie and Doongie napping on his belly, indulging Minho with pets. The insistent chatter of his eomma telling him about the Christmas party and whoever else caught the call, screaming into the phone, faded into the background as he looked at Minho, relaxed and bubbling with happiness, bunny teeth peeking from his smile with his hands buried deep in the fur of the cats. Jisung liked living like this, and the warmth in his chest was something only Minho could bring.
Minho went to bed early, an unbreakable habit of needing his time alone, while Jisung stayed back, long after Minho's parents said goodnight. He liked the quiet, undisturbed hours of the night best, letting him create in peace.
Most of his songs were written while others were asleep, but he couldn’t help it; at night, his lyrics flowed better. Jisung scribled page upon page until his fingers were too cold to hold a pen and his eyes were drooping, the lyrics floating around in his mind being too exciting to not stay up past his bedtime.
Even though Minho was fast asleep on the futon when he traipsed into their room, drowning himself in his favourite but ratty band tee before cuddling up to his best friend, strong arms curled around him, pulling him tight against Minho's body, perpetually cold fingers finding purchase on his waist. Aa soft sigh fell from Minho's lips. It was easy like that to fall asleep, lulled in by Minho's regular, deep breaths.
Morning came with the smell of coffee wafting through the house and a gentle-voiced but forceful shout: "Jisung-ah, princess nap is over. Time to get up."
Minho was a notorious early riser, the other side of the blanket cold already, leaving Jisung to peel himself from bed alone.
Jisung didn't bother with proper clothing yet, only throwing on the bare minimum consisting of Minho's sweatpants, stealing them right from his bag – way too big, but addictively soft. Minho had told him years ago he didn't mind.
He was awaited in the kitchen, Minho squeezing his ass appreciatively when passing him a bowl of fried rice, eggs and kimchi. Jisung didn't mind Minho's hand lingering. It was just a Minho thing he had gotten used to. He didn't touch him like that ever or make his skin crawl like other people did. Maybe he even took a bit of pride in the fact that Minho found his ass to be "anti-stress."
"It's the non-spicy kimchi eomma made," Minho explained between bites from his three separate bowls, and a poke to his fluffed-up cheeks followed by a delighted giggle. Jisung quickly inhaled his food, counting on the fact that Minho would sneak him some of his, chopsticks insistent in shoving more delicious food towards him. Minho stared at him as he munched, blinking heavily. Honestly, without Minho cooking for them, his nutrition would be way worse.
The fingers of Minho's eomma found their way into Minho's floppy hair as she hugged him from behind. "Aegi-ya. We thought you and Jisung-ah could get the tree while we get everything else." Minho turned to look up to her fondly, and Jisung found all of this incredibly endearing.
"There's a small get-together at friends' in the afternoon. You could decorate the tree then and have a bit of peace from us," she added, her laugh pearly and kind, just like Minho's.
They bundled up, Minho tugging his scarf secure and holding out thick mittens for him so he could wriggle in. After defrosting the car, they were off to buy the Christmas tree. It was really cold, so Jisung gladly held onto Minho's hand, resting on his thigh again, squeezing occasionally.
Jisung wasn't sure where they would buy the tree, but Minho pulled up to a small patch of forest after a short drive, parking lots filled with cars and tired parents getting dragged around by their overhyped, squealing children. It was a lot, and he might have stumbled over a patch of ice on the gravel, but Minho slid his hand around his waist, stabilising him. Probably more so for himself than to soothe Jisung, though, because he didn't pull away again.
He whispered close to Minho's ear cutely flushed, "Won't they get the wrong idea?" Still, he clasped his hand around Minho's, fingertips cold to the touch.
Minho's answer was dry, like usual. "I don't care." He could have figured. Minho didn't give a shit about a lot of people and their opinions. It was one thing he liked best about him.
As if he had read his mind, Minho turned, wrapping an arm loosely around him, his free hand cupping his cheeks.
"Jisung-ah, I really don't care what they think. I want to hold you closer, so I'll have my hand on your hip. As long as it's okay for you, it's a good thing. Besides, they'll just think I don't want to lose my clumsy princess," he added with a glint in his eyes, squeezing his hip.
He blinked at Minho, brain melting, lips forming an 'oh' before he could answer."No-yeah. I-I like it. We can keep holding h-hands and stuff." He needed to avert his gaze, but it was okay. Minho had already gone back to clasping his hand, pulling him along to the small selection of trees. When he thought about it, he liked the sound of visibly belonging together with Minho.
The field of trees was growing sparse fast with families carrying off their purchase, so they made a fast decision, with Minho letting Jisung have the final say, like always.
"I want this one," Jisung pointed at a smaller tree, slightly crooked but with shiny needles.
Minho laughed, pointing at all the other, bigger trees. "Why this one, bug?"
"Because we're short as hell and can't decorate the others without using a ladder," Jisung turned, pouting at Minho.
He didn't voice out what they both knew. Jisung wouldn't make Minho stand on a ladder with his insane fear of heights, and he couldn't do it because he would probably break his neck halfway through. Minho just laughed, murmuring, "Alright, bug," calling over one of the workers in an elf costume.
"You should wear a costume like this for the next Halloween party Felix drags us to," Minho said. He had no impulse control about things like this, leaving Jisung spluttering.
Minho bought the tree with a satisfied smirk at having flustered Jisung, handling all the talk while Jisung oversaw the clerk netting up the tree.
The man also ended up carrying the tree to their car, wrangling it into the trunk after he saw Jisung's miserable try at handling it while also not feeling the needles prickle his skin. A small hand slid over his hip while he waited, settling on his stomach. He pressed back against Minho's sturdy figure, catching him with ease.
"Good choice, Sung-ah. If it was any bigger, we wouldn't even get it home," Minho's laugh airy in his ears, drowning out the uncomfortable noise of too many people and the noodling Christmas music.
"Here, I got you a mulled wine," a small cup getting handed off to him.
"You know I can't—" with my meds, Jisung wanted to say, but Minho was faster, swaying him softly from side to side, hair brushing over his cheek. "I got you the alcohol-free one."
The flush painting his cheeks was definitely from the warmth of the spiced, steaming apple juice and not Minho calling him cute while he sipped on his drink, passing him one of the chocolate waffles he had eyed while passing the small circle of Christmas-themed boots at the entry.
With the tree secure in the trunk and the cup returned, Minho took them home, only stopping to pick up his halmeoni for Christmas Eve.
"Baachan!" Minho ran to hug her, crouching down slightly to meet her shorter height. With his limited Japanese, Jisung could only really understand the greetings and a few stray words in between, but when Minho dropped his name and presented him with open arms, a glint in his eyes, he got the gist.
Leathery fingers closed around his, her smile kind as he stumbled through greetings and a formal bow, already feeling the familiar stress of meeting important people – Minho's family – when he had to look at Minho for certain words.
"It's alright, Jisungie, I can speak Korean plenty fine. My Minho-kun only insists on speaking Japanese with me." She said with a thick accent, patting his cheek gently. "You look thin. You should have a candy. Minho-kun told me you like these." She dropped a caramel sweet in his hands, the wrapping crinkling slightly.
He watched her waddle to the car, slightly out of the loop. Minho hugged him from behind, landing a soft slap to his ass that pulled him from his headspace. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you. With how much I talk about you on our calls, I kind of forgot you hadn’t met her yet."
Jisung couldn’t suppress a smile; Minho was too sweet. "It’s okay, I like her lots already. Don't worry about language. I'm fine for a bit."
They chattered on during the ride in flowing Japanese while Jisung leaned back, taking in the snowy landscape, clasping the hand Minho had laid onto the centre console.
This was really the best Christmas he had spent yet, satiny caramel melting on his tongue.
The house was fully decorated when they returned, with smaller decorations all over the entrance and light-up stars in the windows, adding even more cosiness to the home. Minho helped his halmeoni up the driveway to the door, his appa carrying in the Christmas tree, waiting in the doorway to the living room.
They unpeeled their countless layers, Jisung passing Minho the jacket so he could hang it just like the others, adjusting Minho's rustled locks, remaining static from the knit. Barely one step in and they were stopped again by the crooked finger of Minho's halmeoni, pointing upwards, smiling a very familiar crooked smirk.
A mistletoe.
Jisung felt his heartbeat picking up at the expectant gazes he imagined were on them.
"We don't have to, bug. It's silly," Minho said, so light and airy that it was barely audible.
Jisung hadn’t kissed anyone in years, hadn’t wanted to, more importantly. But right now, Jisung figured, he could kiss Minho. Just like that, the feeling trickling in, not crashing down on him.
He nodded faintly before closing his eyes and puckering his lips cutely, waiting.
Minho turned them away from all eyes and pulled him in, secure in his arms, soft lips barely pressing onto his own before he already pulled away again.
Jisung hasn't had so many kisses; most of them had been pretty disgusting actually, with too much spit and tongue getting shoved down his throat, but Minho's pouty lips and the slight soft sigh he let out for the millisecond their mouths met were just right. A warm, steady set of lips slotting against his own, patient.
It wasn't an earth-shattering kiss like movies told, but it was the best kiss Jisung had had nonetheless. It was gentle warmth spreading all over, filling him up with the comfort of Minho and a soft minty taste from the candy he had gotten from his halmeoni, the undemanding press of Minho's hands on his body grounding him.
To his utter confusion, Jisung liked kissing Minho and even found himself disappointed when Minho pulled away, plucking a berry from the mistletoe. He stood there unblinking while Minho stared at him, blinking rapidly, hand on his ass, waiting for him to move.
Jisung half expected a question if they really kissed, to which Minho would ragebait his family expertly while giving away nothing. But when he opened his eyes, he found the entrance empty, only Minho remaining, ears a fiery red and eyes wide. Jisung realised for the first time in so many years of staring at Minho that Minho looked really, really kissable.
He hadn't expected that he would ever find someone kissable again. Jisung really wanted to kiss Minho again. Impulsively, he leaned up and pressed another peck to Minho's lips, even chaster this time, watching as Minho's eyes fluttered shut, long lashes fanning over his cheeks. The same warmth swelled softly in his tummy.
Jisung couldn’t help but stare, unmoving, cradled in Minho's arms, like they were something he hadn’t dared to dream he would ever get to have.
Dazed, he reached up to pluck off another berry, feeling its small weight in his hands, so much heavier in his mind.
When Minho opened his eyes again, with a small smile and glint in his eyes that could become teasing. The moment broke – too sudden and sobering.
Jisung felt his heartbeat rising uncomfortably as he stiffened in Minho's embrace, an unbidden flutter of thoughts invading his mind. He had just kissed Minho again. Not because of a silly tradition, but because he wanted.
It was Minho who was holding him so steadily, not letting him slip away, remaining still, body soft where they touched, waiting for Jisung to decide next, like always. Jisung realised another thing.
It didn't feel unnatural. Just right.
Minho hummed once when Jisung hugged him tightly, no words spilling from him. He didn't need to think too hard about why it felt like this with Minho. Everything with him felt right.
They decorated the tree in peace to a playlist Jisung had curated and Minho plucking out Dori from between the branches, growing more exasperated each time, threatening to snitch on his shenanigans once his parents returned.
Then, they parted ways, Minho moving to the kitchen to help his eomma with Christmas dinner preparations, but not after he had settled Jisung in on the couch, making sure he was good and snug. Jisung didn't know any person that could ever match Minho in softhearted kindness.
Jisung in turn took the time to video call with Chan and Changbin to make sure everything went right with Minho's present. He was nervous about the plan working out, but his friends would never let him down. They had even sent cute progress pictures throughout the build-up process, with Changbin throwing poses and growing exponentially in cuteness while Chan could be seen laughing his ass off in the background more times than not.
He barely had time to warn them and hide the view to the living room when suddenly, Minho padded in, cats in tow, tangerine slices spread nicely on a plate. Jisung indulged his urge to thank him with a "thank you, baby," enjoying the way blood shot into Minho's ears as he quickly scurried out again.
His friends cooed at him and his plate of tangerines, stripped of any fuzzy white parts, never questioning him, Minho or whatever they did. Really, they hadn’t yet uttered a single awkward question about why Jisung wanted to sleep in Minho's bed four out of seven nights a week or why Minho was allowed to touch him whenever he wanted, while he had picked countless fights with the others for doing the same. Jisung was really glad his friends were like that.
Afterwards, he let his thoughts drift off, napping a little, enjoying his time alone and his peeled tangerines, taking time to pick them apart. He really hated peeling them, but they were still one of his favourite fruits. At least if the bitter white part was gone completely.
Dinner was fine instead of exhausting, served in dozens of individual, separated bowls, all really delicious, because Minho had learnt cooking from his eomma, and they obviously did something very right, but Minho had made him CHEESECAKE.
He had made it just like Jisung liked it, creamy and not too heavy, melting on his tongue instead of cloying his taste buds. Minho had apologised for the cracks in the top disturbing the shiny surface, but Jisung thought they added to the self-made charm of it.
Minho had made him a perfectly right cheesecake.
Just for him, pushing a plate of it towards him with a small smile.
There were too many feelings inside Jisung, feelings too layered and complex to unwrap them all in one evening to potentially be disappointed in what they revealed, but he was sure of one thing: he really wanted to kiss Minho again.
So he did. Easy as that.
He pulled Minho into the short hallway just before the kitchen and asked if he could kiss him, and Minho nodded and pulled him in and kissed him, and it was really good.
Minho's lips were still soft, but now he tasted like cheesecake. Jisung liked that Minho's mouth parted the tiniest bit when he raked his hands through his hair to pull him closer.
Afterwards, he smiled until his muscles ached, because he was really happy. Minho smiled back with the special smile even Jisung rarely got to see, although he knew that he was special to Minho.
Nothing was different when they were called to unwrap the presents, except for the fact that Jisung could still taste Minho against his lips if he tried really hard.
The faint music playing in the background was new and just for unwrapping. Minho's halmeoni got the nice armchair, with a blanket tucked neatly around her, his parents on the sofa. That left Jisung with Minho on the floor, and he didn't even bother to hide the fact that he wanted to sit between Minho's legs to cuddle back and lean on him whenever he wanted, to let the clean of their quality detergent mix with the faint vanilla of Minho's shower gel.
This year he could just relax, Minho's arms curling around him with no one to question why Jisung craved that.
Minho had handled their presents for his family; the only gift he had gotten was for Minho himself. With their friends they would just treat them to good food and spend some quality time together when they had all returned to Seoul.
They had settled for this years ago, when Minho had found him crying over too many tabs open on his laptop and parcels scattered around him. To Jisung, making presents was difficult. Each year, it was nerve-wracking to think of good gifts for all of his friends and close family.
But gifting Minho anything was really easy. There were only so many things Minho really loved, so he just had to pick between cats, anime and pudding. Anything that overlapped would be a present that Minho would be guaranteed to love.
This year was especially good, though.
He passed Minho the small cooling bag his eomma had sneakily hidden from him as soon as they had arrived.
Inside was a stash of Minho's favourite pudding, the nice Japanese kind. The kind that wasn't sold in Korea and only in very select stores in Japan. But Jisung was good with Minho's Japanese friends, and he had wanted to gift Minho his pudding really bad.
To say that Minho loved his present was an understatement. He thanked him with too many fast blinks and a few slow ones too before he deflated in disappointment, a cup already in his hands.
Jisung looked through the insulated bag, pulling out a carefully wrapped object. The only thing he had taken from their flat and packed himself for the entire trip. He passed it over.
"Here. I wouldn't forget your pudding spoon. It would be a shit gift otherwise."
Minho melted in happiness, savouring the first cup, his parents laughing fondly at the immediate pull of the lid as soon as he saw his spoon.
They rotated through the presents until it was Jisung's turn, and Minho tensed behind him. Jisung took the squishy bundle and unwrapped it to reveal... Minho's band tees.
The ones Minho had bought maybe two years ago, all at once – these things so horrifically unworn that the prints had been stiff – but from all the bands Jisung liked to blast on full volume when he wanted to be undisturbed. Minho had worn them day in day out, never letting Jisung snag even a single one for himself, not even when he had deemed them sufficiently soft enough to think about starting to wear them.
Jisung turned around as far as he could, finding Minho staring at him, his fingers fiddling with the stretched-out hem of Jisung's shirt. "B-But these are your band tees!" Jisung exclaimed. He had desperately wanted them for ages already, but those were Minho's, and they were the only thing in Minho's wardrobe that was off-hands for him.
"I wore them in for you. You needed new ones, but you hate them when they're new. Now they're soft," Minho explained, like it was nothing that he had done that for him just because Jisung thought new shirts felt horrific on his skin and already wanted to skip to when they were run down and faded.
Jisung wanted to cry. No one would ever come close to how good Minho was to him. All the love he constantly felt for him bubbled over.
He didn't think and pecked Minho. Lips on lips, short and cutely.
Jisung felt the hand on his tummy tensing, but Minho's eyes fluttered shut and nothing happened; the world didn't stop spinning, and no one gasped in surprise or horror.
Jisung chatted a bit with Minho's eomma and later even his dad, got to hear a few funny childhood stories, mainly consisting of a naughty little Minho, before busying himself with his writing, the mood right.
In the background he could hear the quiet Japanese of Minho and his halmeonie, Minho taking the time to properly catch up with her. He liked this. Jisung thought that they should visit more often. Minho missed his parents but especially his halmeoni terribly.
The next morning, Minho drove them to the nature museum in the next town. Jisung only knew because they had gone there the summer before, and he knew the way from his extensive research.
It was on the smaller side, but it had aquariums with sealife and, most importantly, jellyfish specifically, so he had nagged and pouted at Minho until they went, which had really only taken maybe five minutes maximum. Jisung had been thoroughly disappointed, though, because they only let you in for an hour, and screaming children had been everywhere, asking their parents if there were any sharks.
No, there weren't. They had bought three tickets each to stay the full time until they closed, and he hadn't seen his jellyfish levitating around the tank for a single minute in peace, leaving him thoroughly dissapointed.
Because of that, he was a bit confused as to why they were doing that on Christmas morning, when they weren't going to be open anyway, but it didn't really matter; Minho had told him to trust him.
Minho hoisted a big backpack from his back seat to some side entrance, procured a key from somewhere, and suddenly they were inside.
Jisung could hear Minho move and a few buttons click, but he was glad Minho didn't let go of his hand because they were both afraid of the dark, and it was better when they were together.
Inside and with, for his taste, barely enough lights on, Minho led them straight to the jellyfish tank. There were no people pushing him around or obscuring his view. It was silent except for their breathing and the quiet hum of the aquarium technology.
Jisung's attention flickered sometimes, but Minho knew he could stare at jellyfish for eternity and would never grow tired of them. Just like Minho would occasionally stare at Jisung for really long, like he was one of the shiny bugs Jisung adored. He figured it was similar to his jellyfish. There was always something new to look at but also always so familiar. He could know everything and still spot all the differences to one blink ago.
Without the glaring light blinding him, he could really see how the jellyfish floated in slow, relaxed circles around the tank, smaller and bigger ones, their half-translucent bodies catching the sparse light and glowing, contracting, and opening again rhythmically.
He was transfixed, barely noticing when Minho dragged him down to sit on a fluffy blanket, shielding them from the shiny cold floor.
So as long as he liked, Jisung stared at the jellyfish wobbling around in the tank in perpetual circles, and Minho stared at Jisung. After some time, Jisung let his shoulder bop against Minho's, and Minho took the sign, bopping back, a quiet reminder of his presence, not even the crack of a pudding lid or the happy hum following suit disturbing him.
Some time later, Minho reminded him to eat and drink, giving him another slice of cheesecake, the last slice Jisung had wanted to eat already yesterday. But it was good Minho hadn’t let him because for anything less than cheesecake, Jisung would not have broken his observation of the jellyfish.
As it turned out, Jisung would also break his focus for Minho. Minho hadn’t said anything in a long time but had bopped back sometimes in between.
Jisung blurted out after thinking too long and too little at the same time, "I want to keep doing that with you. I like it," as if Minho knew what he meant.
Minho magically knew, letting out a soft gasp, but Jisung only realised after he had already rambled on. "I like kissing you. I want all the things you won't give to others for myself." He barely paused, because then his thoughts would overrun him."I love you."
A small smile pulled at the corners of Minho's mouth when he answered, simple like always, with no hidden layers in between. "I know." His laugh was pearly, getting swallowed by the empty air around them quickly. "I love you too, Sung-ah."
Jisung wasn't yet satisfied with that. He knew too; they occasionally told each other.
Seungmin always joked that they were chopsticks, sticking together, ruined without the other, or that Minho wouldn't be able to live without him, but the thought alone wasn't really funny at all. He couldn't imagine a life like before he found Minho at all anymore. He wanted to be selfish and keep Minho to himself forever. Jisung wanted to give his smiles and silly jokes and his love and get it all back from Minho for however long he could have it.
With a slight pout, he turned and corrected himself. "No, hyung. I love you more than I want to love anyone else ever again."
Minho's smile was nothing short of cute, with bunny teeth and eyes disappearing into half-moon-shaped crescents. "I love you most too. You have all my love, bug."
That felt better. Minho kissed him over it, letting Jisung climb in his lap, back to the tank of jellyfish.
Jisung was content with plush lips pressing against his perfectly, mouths moving gently, and Minho's hands resting on the small of his back and sometimes his cheek when he let out a particularly relaxed hum. Minho was sturdy under him, warm muscles squishy as he held him, keeping him from floating away.
Everything in Jisung was one glowing warmth, and he forgot how long they stayed at the aquarium. After some time, they stopped kissing, and Minho snuggled him into a hug, letting Jisung drift off to sleep, turning them a tiny bit so he could look over his shoulder at the jellyfish some more, moving without change.
He woke later, wrapped up in the couch blanket tucked around him with care when it was pitch black outside, the Christmas tree sparkling prettily. It was already late, but they were hungry after skipping a proper lunch, so Minho's eomma reheated the leftovers from the night before.
Dinner passed with Minho's appa telling fun stories from all over—life, travel, work, whatever came to his mind. It was interesting, because Minho's father was an interesting man himself, so Jisung gladly listened and let Minho feed him the occasional piece of meat.
The evening went by quietly, and for the first time since forever, Jisung didn't want to crawl into a hole of solitude after the first full day of Christmas. All in all, he didn't even mind doing the dishes with Minho after.
Soonie was old, so Minho was even more lenient with him and let him nap on the counter beside him, with Jisung draped over his back, hugging him.
Jisung could see in Minho that he missed his cats more than he would ever admit, his smile widening and day brightening whenever they got a tiny cat update. He would show Jisung excitedly at least three times.
His voice broke the quietness, overpowering the hum of the fridge and the quiet rustle of Minho moving.
"I have another present for you." Jisung said it without fanfare, because he couldn’t keep it in anymore. It had been nearly nerve wracking to organize and keep it from Minho for so long already. He pulled up his phone, its brightness glaring. Minho turned, eyes comically wide.
Jisung tapped until his entire screen was the photo of their redecorated living room, practically shoving it into Minho's face, quickly explaining. "I asked your parents if we could take the cats with us. Soonie's getting old, and you miss them too much. Here, Chan and Changbin hyung built the cat tree I bought and helped to make everything ready."
Minho didn't say anything for a long time, holding the phone as if it might hurt him, eyes trained on the litter of cat things Jisung had bought after calling Minho's eomma at least seven separate times.
Finally, Minho asked, voice wobbling the tiniest bit before taking on a weak, airy note, "And my parents are okay with that? Won't they miss the babies too much?"
Jisung pulled out the crinkled letter from his back pocket, letting his hands linger on Minho's shoulders. He didn't know what was written inside; he hadn't read it, but Minho's parents had guaranteed him it would convince Minho that it was more than okay.
Minho's eyes flickered over the letter, and he couldn’t have properly seen in the dim light, but suddenly Jisung got wrapped in a tight hug, Minho spinning him in a small circle before carefully setting him down again, his wet soapy hands barely seeping wetness through the thick fabric of Jisung's new worn-in shirt. He barely registered the small kiss before Minho was off again. Habitual, like Minho didn't tought about it, like they had always done this.
Soonie meowed as Minho scooted him up, cradling him to his chest. Minho's voice was all distorted from the brightest smile Jisung had ever seen on his face as he baby-talked to Soonie.
"Soonie-ah, you and your brothers are coming home with us. Imagine that! We won't have to say goodbye!" Minho said, airily and cutely, coddling the giant orange cat, pressing light kisses to his fur.
Minho cracked the good snacks, the other cats flocking into the kitchen quickly, demanding their equal share, the rest of the dishes forgotten in the sink. Jisung plastered himself against Minho's side because the cats occupied all the space between his legs and his lap, but that was fine. Minho kept thanking him, murmuring sweet thank yous between soft kisses on his cheeks, and that was really enough for Jisung.
"You know, Minho, since I've known you, I'm happier." Jisung broke the quiet again, having to take a deep breath before continuing. This Christmas with Minho had made him brave. He had seen how it could always be, how good it could always feel. That didn't make it easy talking about it, though.
"But living together with you and sharing my life with you makes me the happiest. You make me the happiest."
There. He had said it. Words and feelings he had sat on for too long, too afraid to voice them.
"You make me the happiest too, Sung-ah," Minho replied, always on the right wavelength, matching like fate. Fondness dripped from his soft voice, reserved for his cats and special people. Like Jisung. He revelled in it, like a cat in a warm sunbeam.
It made his heart beat with joy, made him even bolder, voicing out what he had felt for so long. "I want forever with you." It was difficult to say, like it was too big. But only in terms, not in feelings.
He didn't want Minho to misunderstand. Jisung loved him like that, but he couldn't do a relationship like other people. He didn't have the crave that pulled them and their bodies together.
But Minho was Minho, and he understood him without words, just his lingering eyes, always focused on him with all slow blinks.
"We can promise that, Jisung-ah."Minho looked so fondly at him, with so much love that he felt weak.
"Like a relationship? Only we and no one else?" he dared to ask.
"If you want. It's ours, bug. We can let it be however we want it to be," Minho said softly as if it were that simple.
Maybe it was that simple. Jisung trusted Minho, so he let himself believe. "I love you most. Is that enough?"
"That's perfect."
Minho took his hand and squeezed it gently, taking away all of Jisung's fears. With Minho they weren't necessary. With Minho being brave felt good.
***
A bit later, Jisung doesn't count days because that's not important to him, Minho gives Jisung a set of two rings. One with a cat, the other one with jellyfish. Jisung loves them. They can't get married, but Jisung loves them. No one else is there when they put them on and exchange vows as if they could get married, because to Jisung they are after.
Especially because there is cake, and it's cheesecake, like it would have been if they had had an official marriage ceremony with a wedding cake.
Life with Minho felt right for Jisung and made everything just a tiny, minuscule bit better. Anything he ever wanted to give, he gave to Minho. And Minho gave it back in his special way that never failed to make his chest glow with warmth.
Because their love was enough and not the tiniest bit too little or too much. Just right.