kpop writing blog

AO3: iknowyouknowleeknow Main Tumblr: thatkpopkidmarklee

[linolinoing]

HAN — SKZ-TALKER EP. 70 🐿

[hanfocus]

nom nom nom 🍱

[cherry-heartss]

LEE KNOW // IDOL HUMAN THEATER

[strayklds]

HAN ★ KARMA JACKET MAKING BEHIND

[hyunsung]

HAN / 'CEREMONY' FANCAM (250824)

[minsung-archived]

HAN — CEREMONY @ music core (250823)

[minsung-archived]

beware of the cat: he bites

[minsung-archived]

SLIDE, RING, KISS MWAH 💍

[linolinoing]

LEE KNOW — K-WORLD DREAM AWARDS // 250821 © sunaleeknowonly

[strayklds]

LEE KNOW — INTRO : KARMA

[minsung-archived]

MINSUNG — walking on water @ K-WORLD DREAM AWARDS 2025 (©puppiexpress)

[vminni]

Sealed With A Kiss

“Are you packing dino nuggets for lunch?”

Jisung glanced up from what he was doing as his roommate wandered into the kitchen, soft and sleepy in an oversized t-shirt that definitely belonged to Jisung. Minho slipped his arms around Jisung’s waist and hooked his chin over the younger boy’s shoulder, glancing down at the Tupperware container on their counter.

“What of it?” Jisung dumped the rest of the nuggets out of the air fryer and into the container, making sure none of them disrupted the volcano of mashed potatoes and gravy he’d made.

“It’s your first day.”

“And?” Jisung snapped the lid onto his Tupperware, lifting it carefully and depositing it in his lunchbox. “Think I’m gonna get bullied?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s a corporate office job, not middle school,” Jisung huffed, shuffling over to their cutlery drawer with Minho still attached to his back. He grabbed a fork and dropped it in with his lunch, trudging over to the fridge with his limp roommate dangling from him. He grabbed a couple cans of Coke and made the journey back to his lunchbox, setting the soda on top before zipping it up.

A t-rex stared at them from the face of the lunchbox, and Minho couldn’t help but huff out a fond laugh, pressed into Jisung’s neck.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” Jisung shook Minho off, scooping up his lunch and heading towards the door without waiting for a response. “Wish me luck.”

“Wait!” Minho slid across the kitchen in his socked feet, crashing into the pantry door before tugging it open and disappearing inside. Jisung slipped on his shoes as he waited for Minho to reemerge, glancing at the watch on his left wrist to make sure he was still running on time. 

Minho finally appeared, cradling a few water bottles against his chest. He hurried over to Jisung and held them out, “You can’t just have soda. You already don’t have any fruit or veggies.”

“I have fruit snacks,” Jisung accepted the water bottles, stooping down to dump them into his backpack before shoving his lunchbox in there as well. “There’s probably a water cooler at the office.”

“Probably,” Minho agreed. “But just in case.”

Jisung zipped up his backpack and stood, throwing it over his shoulder as he stared at Minho, “Well. This is it.”

Minho clutched one hand to his heart and pretended to wipe away tears with his other, his voice trembling dramatically, “My baby is all grown up. He can finally pay his half of the rent now.”

“Hey!” Jisung glanced around, but there was nothing in reaching distance to chuck at Minho’s head, so he settled for throwing a few halfhearted punches that Minho easily avoided. “I pay rent!”

“You pay $200, I pay $1,200.” Minho would have happily paid the entire thing just for the pleasure of living with his best friend, but Jisung felt too guilty about it to let Minho cover the full cost. “And it will stay that way, even with your big boy job. Now go, before you miss the bus.”

Minho had offered to drive Jisung, but he’d rejected it, already feeling like too much of a burden and not wanting to be the reason Minho left for work an hour earlier than normal. Minho thought he was ridiculous and would have had no problem hanging out in his car in the parking lot of his job, but Jisung had been insistent.

“Have the best day,” Minho blew a kiss Jisung’s way and the younger boy snatched it out of the air and slapped it to his cheek, earning a silly grin from Minho. “Bye, Sungie.”

“Bye bye,” Jisung snapped off a sharp salute before turning on his heel and opening the front door, slipping out of the apartment without a backwards glance.

Alone, Minho went about his own morning routine, showering and getting dressed, unused to the silence of the apartment without Jisung. They’d been living together for about six months, and though Jisung wasn’t a morning person, he always made sure to be up when Minho was since they didn’t get to see each other much during the day. Minho worked at a dance academy downtown and Jisung spent most of his days applying to jobs and his nights at the studio working on music as a side hustle. Their paths unfortunately didn’t cross much, even though they lived together, and Minho was a little resentful of Jisung’s new job for taking away the few hours they had in the morning. If it was up to him, Jisung wouldn’t work at all, would just do his music and let Minho worry about money. But anytime Minho brought it up Jisung was very adamant that Minho was just his friend, and that was too much to ask from a friend. Minho thought Jisung was being silly, but he knew better than to argue with his stubborn best friend. So he continued to pay the bulk of the rent and cook their meals, letting Jisung chip in for coffee or takeout every so often so he wouldn’t feel like a burden. 

Minho had tossed around the idea of just getting married, so Minho could legally take care of him, but Jisung was not on board. A shame, Minho thought, but he accepted it, just as he accepted everything Jisung did. He was beyond whipped, and he was doing nothing to hide it.

As Minho shouldered his duffel bag and packed his own carefully balanced lunch, he made a mental note to get up an hour earlier the next morning. If work wanted to steal his Jisung time, well, Minho was going to have to take it from somewhere else. 

-

“Min?”

Minho wasn’t sure what time it was when he blinked awake, but it was definitely late. Way past the time he normally retired to his room. He’d be trying to stay up to wait for Jisung, since he’d only seen him for a few minutes this morning, but sleep must have gotten the better of him.

Minho sat up and swung his legs off the couch, eyes barely open enough to make out Jisung’s hazy shape kicking off his shoes and dropping his backpack by the front door.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted to see you,” Minho mumbled, rubbing at his eyes until the Jisung sized shape came into focus. He was greeted by the sight of his best friend, headphones around his neck and white dress shirt partly unbuttoned. “How was your first day?”

His question was interrupted by a yawn and Jisung softly admonished him, crossing the room to push Minho’s bangs back off his forehead. Minho blinked up at him, eyes heavy with sleep and cheeks creased from the couch cushions.

“Oh, baby,” Jisung murmured, his hand dropping to cup Minho’s jaw. His thumb brushed against Minho’s bottom lip before curving up over his cheek. “We can talk about it tomorrow. You should get to sleep. In your bed.”

“...m fine,” Minho lifted his hand to rest atop of Jisung’s, still staring up at him. Jisung’s face was fond and so full of love, and Minho wondered, not for the first time, why Jisung wouldn’t just marry him. Who cared that they weren’t technically dating? Minho was very comfortable with his feelings for Jisung, and he was comfortable Jisung felt the same way. But here they were, still dancing around what Minho thought was inevitable.

“Come on,” Jisung’s hand dropped from Minho’s face and his own hand fell to his lap. Jisung reached for him, slipping an arm under his legs and wrapping the other under his arms, attempting to lift Minho off the couch.

Minho made a strangled noise and clutched at Jisung’s shoulder, not doubting that Jisung could carry him but still not expecting to find himself cradled in Jisung’s arms.

“I’m fine,” Minho repeated, smacking Jisung’s shoulder as the younger boy huffed and began the journey down the hall to his room. “I can walk, put me down.”

“No,” Jisung shifted him in his arms slightly and Minho gripped him tighter, his arms linking around Jisung’s neck as they shuffled down the hallway. “I can’t believe you fell asleep on the couch.” 

Minho was a firm believer in never sleeping anywhere besides his bed (or Jisung’s), not willing to risk his body cramping during class from a shitty sleeping position.

“I didn’t mean to,” Minho kicked his legs a little, trying to get Jisung to put him down, but his best friend didn’t falter, just continued the slow trudge towards the bedrooms. “I was waiting for you but I wasn’t sure when you would be back.”

“Don’t wait up for me,” Jisung scolded him. “You need your beauty rest.”

Minho pouted as they approached the door to Jisung’s room, “Are you saying I’m not pretty?”

“You’re the prettiest,” Jisung hitched his knee up under Minho’s hips to hold him in place as he reached for the doorknob, swaying slightly himself but keeping Minho steady. “But I know you like to get your full eight hours.”

They entered Jisung’s room and Jisung stumbled to the bed, dropping Minho down on top of the unmade covers. Minho immediately snuggled underneath them, his eyes half lidded as he watched Jisung undo the rest of the buttons of his work shirt and shimmy out of his pants. He slipped into the bed, Minho immediately slinging an arm over his waist and resting his head on his bare chest.

“What time is it anyway?” “2 am.”

“Sung!” Minho was too tired to lift his head to glare at Jisung properly, so he settled for a weak smack against his pec. “You have a job now! You can’t stay out until 2 am.”

“I know,” Minho could hear the wince on Jisung’s voice. “I just…you know how we get, we got into a really good groove and I couldn’t just leave. It would have totally killed all our momentum.”

“This is why I told you that you don’t need to work! Just let me handle it. Your music is more important than a silly little office job.”

“No,” the word was firm, the same as it was every time Minho offered to take care of Jisung. “I won’t let you do that.”

“Why not?” Minho knew he sounded whiny, but it was late and he was tired and the person he loved most in this lifetime and the next wouldn’t let Minho love him the way he wanted. His face was buried in Jisung’s chest and he felt his annoyed exhale, so Minho snapped his mouth shut and didn’t add anything else on.

“Just, no. Okay?”

“Okay,” Minho dug his fingers into Jisung’s side, his skin warm and familiar beneath his hand. “Night.”

“Good night,” Jisung sighed, threading his fingers softly through Minho’s hair. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Minho mumbled, succumbing to sleep moments after the words were out of his mouth.

-

It was obvious Jisung was trying to be quiet as he slipped out of bed the next morning, carefully cradling Minho’s head and setting it on the pillow. He leaned down to press a kiss to the older boy’s temple, not noticing that Minho’s eyes were beginning to flutter open.

Jisung stepped back from the bed and moved to his closet, grabbing some clothes before he headed down the hall to the bathroom. Minho slipped out of bed as soon as he was gone, rubbing at his tired eyes as he stumbled to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. 

Once he was satisfied that it was running, he made his way down to the bathroom, where he could hear the shower running and Jisung softly singing. Minho pushed open the bathroom door, stopping Jisung abruptly in the middle of his song as the older boy closed the lid of the toilet and sat down.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Jisung stuck his head out from behind the shower curtain to glare at Minho, but the effect was lost due to the suds in his hair. Minho just smiled and crossed his legs, perched on the toilet as Jisung retreated back into the steam of the shower. 

“Tell me about your first day.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Minho heard Jisung drop the conditioner bottle, cursing lightly under his breath. “I didn’t really do anything. They just showed me around and introduced me to people whose names I immediately forgot. They have good snacks in the break room though. And they did have a water cooler.”

“Did you get a cubicle?”

“Yeah. The dude next to me seems chill. His name was Seungmin or Seungjin or something. We ate lunch together. He didn’t bully my dino nuggets.”

“That’s good,” Minho got up from the toilet and opened the cabinet above the sink, pulling out Jisung’s skin care products and lining them up neatly on the counter. He could hear Jisung fumbling around with the bar of soap and knew he would be out shortly. “It would be nice to make a friend.”

“Yeah, I guess,” the water shut off and a hand emerged from the shower curtain. Minho grabbed Jisung’s towel and tossed it to him, the younger boy appearing moments later with it loosely wrapped around his waist. The skin of his chest glistened with moisture, his hair dripping onto his shoulders, and Minho made a tsking noise under his breath as he reached for his own towel, dumping it on top of Jisung’s head.

Jisung offered him a crooked smile from underneath the towel, violently rubbing it over his wet hair as Minho watched a lone drop of water slowly make its way down the tattooed letters on Jisung’s side. It disappeared under the terry cloth of the towel, lost along with the rest of Jisung’s tattoo. Minho reached out and traced the same line with his fingertip, Jisung barely noticing the touch as he finished taking the heaviest part of the moisture out of his hair.

Jisung threw the damp towel at Minho’s head, his hand lifting from Jisung’s side just in time to catch it before it smacked the older boy in the face. He returned it to the towel rack, then stripped and stepped into the shower himself as Jisung began slapping toner on his face. It was domestic and familiar, and Minho hummed happily to himself under the hot water, the sounds of Jisung going through his skin care routine very welcome after the silence of the previous morning. 

Minho showered quickly, drying himself with his damp towel before wrapping it around his waist and stepping back out into the steamy bathroom. Jisung had finished and disappeared, his wet towel on the floor and the skewed skin care products the only signs that he’d been there. Minho hung the towel to dry and did his own skin care routine, putting everything nicely back in the cabinets where they belonged before padding barefoot to his bedroom. He threw on a hoodie and sweatpants, then plugged in his hair dryer and quickly dried his hair before going to join Jisung in the kitchen.

Jisung hadn’t bothered with his hair, and it was still dripping slightly as he held out a mug of coffee to Minho. Minho accepted it, taking a sip before reaching out to ruffle Jisung’s damp locks, “You’ll catch a cold.”

“That’s just a wives tale,” Jisung huffed, shoving a powdered doughnut in his mouth before washing it down with a gulp of his own coffee. He snagged another two from the box on the counter, shoving one in his mouth and holding the second one out to Minho. Minho didn’t dignify that with a response, ignoring the sweet and heading over to the refrigerator.

“That’s not breakfast.”

“It is,” Jisung stuffed Minho’s rejected doughnut into his mouth, showering crumbs as Minho rolled his eyes. He pulled out the lunch he’d prepared the night before, setting it down on the counter and going back to grab the carton of eggs to make his own breakfast.

Jisung was leaning against the counter next to the stove, his fingertips and lips dusted white. Minho laughed, and in another world, another lifetime, he would have leaned in to kiss the powder off Jisung’s lips. But in this world, where his best friend refused to marry him, Minho just pulled the sleeve of his sweatshirt down over his hand and carefully wiped the powder away.

Jisung pursed his lips anyway, and as Minho’s hand fell, he leaned in teasingly, pursing his own. They got within a few inches before Jisung ducked out of the way with a giggle, bringing up his white coated hands and wiping them on the front of Minho’s sweatshirt.

Minho pretended to be annoyed, huffing out a breath and nudging Jisung away from the stove with his hip, “Move over so I can make us eggs.”

“I don’t need any,” Jisung was reaching for another doughnut and Minho slapped his hand away before he could reach the box, snagging it and moving it away from Jisung. The younger boy pouted, but didn’t protest, just leaned his hip against the counter and watched Minho get to work scrambling them some eggs. “I can handle myself, you know.”

“You can, but not the way I want you to,” Minho pushed the eggs around the pan, his eyes on his best friend. “That lunch is for you.”

Jisung glanced at the Tupperware containers, filled with a sandwich, apple slices and some cucumbers. He turned his attention back to Minho and shook his head, “I can make my own lunch. You eat that.”

“It’s for you,” Minho repeated stubbornly, plating the eggs and handing the one with more on it off to Jisung. “I’ll make myself something after you leave. I have plenty of time.”

“What if I don’t want your lunch? I’m not a baby, you know.”

“You’re my baby,” Minho’s words were simple as he sat down at the kitchen table, Jisung dropping into the seat next to him and their feet immediately connecting under the table. “I like taking care of you.”

“I’m starting to think you might be in love with me or something,” Jisung huffed out a laugh, shoveling his eggs into his mouth as Minho blinked at him, confused.

“I am.”

Jisung choked, his eyes wide as he lifted his gaze to Minho’s, “What the fuck?”

“I thought you knew,” Minho didn’t understand why this was news. He continued calmly eating his breakfast, even though Jisung was frozen next to him and staring at him like he had three heads.

“So, you’re like, serious about the marriage thing?”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck?” Jisung repeated. He still hadn’t moved, and Minho was starting to feel like maybe he’d read something wrong along the way. He had been fully confident Jisung loved him back until this very moment. “Minho, what the fuck?”

“I thought you loved me too,” Minho’s voice was quiet, and he suddenly had no interest in his eggs. How had he been so wrong? He thought he knew Jisung better than he knew himself.

“I do, Minho. Of course I do, I just…I didn’t think you were serious.” Jisung pushed his hair back off his forehead, then pressed his face into his palms. “You actually deadass want to marry me?”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t just saying it because you think I’m too pathetic to take care of myself?”

Minho’s appetite had returned slightly with Jisung’s reassurance and he took a small bite of his eggs, humming around it, “I’ve never thought you were pathetic, Sungie. I know you can take care of yourself. I don’t want you to. I want to.”

“We aren’t even dating,” Jisung still seemed to be struggling to come to terms with Minho’s confession, his face still buried in his hands.

“So? We already live together. We know it’ll work.”

“What if I’m a terrible kisser?”

“Why would that matter?”

“So you’ll marry me but you won’t kiss me?”

Minho wasn’t sure where Jisung had gotten that idea from. He’d absolutely kiss him, would kiss him right now if he wasn’t still hiding, “I’ll definitely kiss you. I just don’t care if you’re bad at it. It’s you, I’ll enjoy it no matter what.”

“You’re, like, legitimately in love with me,” Jisung laughed, his voice coated in disbelief. “That’s crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Why are you so calm?” Jisung finally lifted his head, eyes searching Minho’s. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Why would I be freaking out?” Minho had panicked a little bit at the start there, yes, but he was confident in his feelings for Jisung. He wasn’t ashamed of them. “You said you love me too.”

“Because it’s going to change everything.”

“It’s not. We already act like we’re married. We literally shared the bathroom this morning.”

“Yeah, but, that was…” Jisung trailed off, his eyes faraway. Minho finished off his breakfast and stood, bringing his plate and Jisung’s to the sink. He knew Jisung was thinking about all the things they did and the way they lived their lives, and the realization was finally starting to sink in. “Huh. I guess we do.”

“I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. Just like it is now. Well, apart from your new job. Quit that and let me pay for everything so you can make music during the day and I can see you at night.”

Jisung fiddled with the cross at his neck, teeth dug into his bottom lip, “That’s the only change you want?”

“Plus the physical stuff that comes with being married. But only if you want it. I’m okay if you don’t. I’m happy to just fall asleep with you every night.”

“You’re whipped,” Jisung got up from the table, a teasing lilt to his voice. “How have I never noticed before?”

Minho shrugged, finishing up the dishes and turning to look at Jisung. He was standing a few feet away and their eyes locked, Jisung’s gaze dropping to Minho’s mouth after a few heated seconds, “I wasn’t hiding it.”

“I guess I just kind of thought you were like that with everyone. Like a mama bear.”

“Only with you,” Minho hummed. “I only want to take care of you.”

“Well, in that case…” Jisung stepped forwards, locking his arms around Minho’s neck and staring up into his eyes. Minho’s hands rested gently on Jisung’s hips, a place they were very familiar with. “Since you’re asking seriously and not making fun of me, yes, I’ll marry you.”

Minho couldn’t even enjoy finally getting the answer he wanted, his jaw dropping open, “You thought I was making fun of you?”

“I thought you thought I was so pathetic no one else would ever want me, so you were just kind of offering to take one for the team. I wanted to show you that I could do things on my own, without your help. I was going to surprise you and pay for all the rent this month so you would stop thinking I was a burden.”

“You’ve never been a burden.”

“I know that now,” Jisung lightly tapped his fingers against Minho’s neck, then slipped them into his hair. “I promise I’ll listen to you and stop getting in my own head about it from now on.”

“That sounded like a vow,” Minho huffed, his fingers digging into Jisung’s waist. “Remember it for the wedding.”

“I still half think you’re joking.”

Minho sighed, pinching Jisung’s side and earning a squeal, “You literally just said you were going to listen to me. Breaking your vows already.”

“We didn’t kiss yet so it’s not official,” Jisung raised an eyebrow, a clear challenge on his face as he struggled to keep his lips from lifting up into a smile. “Fix that and then maybe I’ll listen.”

Minho didn’t need to be asked twice, slipping one hand to spread across Jisung’s back and pulling the smaller boy into him, his mouth dipping down to catch Jisung’s.

Though it was the first time they’d ever kissed, it felt just as familiar as every other part of their morning, just as Minho knew it would.

[vminni]

To Want and Be Wanted

Jisung knew Changbin’s family was well off. He knew his friend had grown up with a lifestyle that was significantly different from Jisung’s own, but it never felt that way. It was just a fact, as simple as the fact that Jisung had brown eyes. It wasn’t something that Jisung ever thought about, until Changbin asked if he’d be willing to house sit for a couple of weeks while Changbin went home to Korea.

It was just a townhouse, Changbin had told him. Three stories to occasionally sweep and vacuum, some plants to water inside and out, mail to take in. Nothing special.

Except Changbin’s nothing special was a whole new world to Jisung. Changbin’s nothing special was a gated community, where all the homes were wrapped in brick and vines and wrought iron, with overflowing cherry blossom trees lining the streets.

Jisung had always prided himself on his confidence and his ability to fit in wherever he was, with whoever he was with. He was charming, and personable, friendly enough to never truly feel out of place. But as he parked his beat up Honda in front of the Changbin’s looming townhouse, Jisung felt like he had finally met his match.

He emerged cautiously, as if the neighborhood watch would snatch him up for daring to bring his decade old vehicle into their private community of Teslas and Porsches and Mercedes. 

As Jisung snagged his duffle bag from the back seat of the car and began trudging up the walkway to Changbin’s front door, he noticed something else. Every townhouse had an outdoor space. On the roof. 

“This is crazy,” Jisung mumbled, typing the code Changbin had given him into the small keypad by the front door. The lock clicked and Jisung pushed the door open, greeted by marble floors and a deceptively high ceiling. 

Jisung kicked off his Doc Martens and eyed his options. There was a stairway that twisted upwards, or a hallway that led deeper into the first floor. Jisung decided on up, hitching his duffle bag higher on his shoulder and making his way up the winding staircase. The floor plan on the second floor was open, a state of the art kitchen to his left and a minimalistic living room to his right.

“I didn’t even know Bin cooked,” Jisung mumbled, setting his duffle bag down on the gray leather couch and moving towards the French doors at the far end of the room. He pushed them open and stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the backyard, a tangle of coral honeysuckle spilling out of the planter boxes and over the wrought iron bars. Jisung suddenly remembered the outdoor roof space and he hurried back inside, scrambling up the second staircase. The third floor housed a few bedrooms and a locked glass door. Jisung undid the lock, opening it up to a small staircase that led him to his final destination. The roof.

“Holy shit,” Jisung breathed, his eyes wide. The rooftop was a completely different world, alive with numerous plants and strings of fairy lights, but that wasn’t what had Jisung’s attention. It was what sat in the middle that did. “A hot tub!”

Jisung couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to really come to terms with the difference in his life and his friend’s. Changbin was out here living with a hot tub on his roof (his roof!) while Jisung spent his nights in a cramped studio apartment that would have been out of date even five years ago.

“This is insane,” Jisung crossed over to the hot tub, peeling back the cover to see if it was actually filled with water. It was. Jisung knew what he was doing tonight. 

Jisung repositioned the cover and made his way through the jungle of plants on the roof until he got to the edge. Changbin had an end unit, so there were two spaces for Jisung to take in the view. The wall he shared with his neighbor didn’t extend to the deck, but there were a few wooden trellises that still gave the rooftop a bit of a private feeling. They weren’t enough to completely block off the neighbor’s roof, and Jisung could see that they did not have a hot tub or a million plants. In fact, they didn’t have much of anything, just a small table and a couple of chairs. 

“That’s a waste,” Jisung shook his head, turning around and heading back towards Changbin’s house. The coolest space in the world, and they couldn’t even be bothered to use it.

Jisung went back inside and found the guest room Changbin had told him he could use, flopping down on the bed and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He knew Changbin would still be in the air, but he shot him a text letting him know he was here anyway. This was going to be the best two weeks of Jisung’s life.

-

Snacks? Check. Drink? Check. Music? Check. Hot tub? Check.

Jisung set up his plate of cheese and crackers on the small wooden table by the hot tub, balancing his glass of wine next to it as he pressed play on the instrumental playlist he’d set up just for this moment. He tugged the cover off the hot tub and dropped it on the ground, stripping himself of his shirt as he got the jets turned on. He watched as the water bubbled, steam beginning to rise as the temperature heated up. Jisung climbed in, sinking down into the warm water and letting his eyes flutter shut. He could get used to this.

He was keeping the volume on his phone pretty low, just in case Changbin’s neighbors didn’t approve of his music choices, so he heard when someone next door stumbled out onto their rooftop, clearly on the phone.

Jisung sunk deeper in the water, not wanting to eavesdrop on the stranger but not able to escape overhearing the broken “fuck you too” and the sobs that followed it. Jisung winced, hoping the neighbor would turn around and head back inside, but it sounded like he had sat down on one of the chairs, his crying a bit more muffled now, as if his head was buried in his hands. 

Jisung slowly reached for his phone, wanting to silence his music on the off chance that the neighbor stopped crying and heard him. The trellises blocked the view of next door from the hot tub, so as long as Jisung was quiet, the neighbor would never know that Jisung was intruding on a private moment.

Except of course his stupid finger slipped, and instead of pausing the music, he cranked the volume all the way up.

“Shit,” Jisung fumbled with his phone, finally getting it to shut up, but the silence that followed alerted him to one very important fact. He could no longer hear the neighbor crying.

“Is my breakdown ruining your pleasant evening, Changbin?” Even thick with tears, there was an obvious bite of sarcasm and annoyance in the neighbor’s voice. Changbin had never mentioned having beef with his neighbor. But he’d also never mentioned having a rooftop hot tub, so what did Jisung know?

The question sounded rhetorical, but Jisung didn’t want to dig Changbin deeper in whatever hole he was already in with his neighbor, so he cleared his throat and answered.

“Um, I’m sorry. Changbin’s out of town. But you aren’t bothering me. You can cry.” Jisung winced, the words sounding stupid to his own ears. He was a stranger here, if the neighbor wanted to have a breakdown on his own roof, he didn’t need Jisung’s permission.

Jisung wasn’t sure what he was expecting. More sarcasm, or maybe for the neighbor to go back inside. He wasn’t expecting a tear swollen face to peek around the trellis, Jisung’s eyes going wide as he immediately ducked under the steaming water to avoid his gaze. He wasn’t sure why he was hiding, it wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong, but it seemed like the correct move. Until his lungs began to burn and he resurfaced to see the stranger still staring at him, slightly less teary and a little more amused.

“Hello.”

Jisung sank into the water up to his chin, getting a mouthful as he gurgled out his own greeting. Even tear stained and partly obscured by vines, the neighbor was obviously beautiful, and Jisung felt even more ridiculous now, still unsure as to why he was so embarrassed. Maybe it was just spilling over from earlier this morning, when he’d felt so insecure about his car and his position in life. Normally Jisung could charm his way out of an awkward situation, but here he was, completely thrown as to why the stranger was looking at him like that. Was he doing something weird by being in the hot tub?

“Who are you?”

“Jisung.”

“Oh.” The stranger shifted, his full face coming into focus as he stepped away from the trellis and towards the small portion of the rooftop that was only separated by a chest high iron fence. He rested his arms there, his feline eyes studying Jisung, who suddenly felt even smaller in the bubbling water. “Bin’s music friend. He’s mentioned you.”

“Who are you?”

“Minho.”

“He hasn’t mentioned you.” Jisung wasn’t sure why he said that. Minho was already having a shitty night.

But he didn’t seem offended, just letting out a huffed laugh, his eyes still on Jisung, “I wouldn't think that he would have. Where is he?”

“South Korea.”

“Ah.” Minho hesitated for a second, and then the next thing Jisung knew he was leaping over the fence, lithe and graceful as he landed on Changbin’s roof. Jisung’s mouth gaped open and he sputtered, choking on the water he’d accidentally inhaled. “I have a lot of practice,” Minho offered as a way of explanation, weaving around the plants until he was standing at the edge of the hot tub. “Mind if I join?”

Jisung wasn’t entirely sure how they’d gotten here. One minute Minho was sobbing on the phone, a complete stranger, and the next he was stripping down to his underwear and slipping into the hot tub before Jisung even had a chance to answer.

“What the fuck?”

A foot brushed Jisung’s and he shot straight up, his chest rising out of the water in an attempt to keep all his limbs on his side of the hot tub and away from Minho.

Minho’s eyes flicked down, eyeing the now exposed tattoos that were inked into Jisung’s skin. He crossed his arms over his chest, breaking Minho’s stare, and asked his question again, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Same thing you are.”

Minho sank into the water and Jisung watched the tension drain out of his shoulders, watched as Minho’s pretty face relaxed completely as he got comfortable. If it weren’t for his slightly red rimmed eyes, it would have been hard to believe that he’d just been sobbing on the other side of the roof.

Jisung was confused. Minho had seemed annoyed earlier when he thought he was Changbin, but his knowledge of Jisung’s existence and the ease at which he scaled the fence would imply they were friends. Or acquaintances at the very least.

Almost as if he could read his thoughts, Minho spoke, his eyes closed and his voice soft, barely louder than the bubbling jets, “Changbin introduced me to the asshole who just broke up with me over the phone. Thought it was kind of a dick move for him not to say anything when he overheard, but you aren’t him. So apologies for my earlier shortness.”

“Oh, um, it’s okay,” Jisung relaxed his arms, uncrossing them from his chest and sinking a little bit lower in the warm water. “I’m sorry you got broken up with. And that I accidentally overheard it. And for the music. I wasn’t trying to drown out your crying or anything, I was trying to turn it off so you wouldn’t know I was out here and be embarrassed.”

Sudden clarity came over Jisung as he processed Minho’s first statement and he shot up, eyes wide as he stared at the other boy, “Wait! He has mentioned you! He tried to set me up with you a few months ago! He was actually pretty upset when I said no and muttered something about not having a backup plan. So I guess technically it’s my fault you ended up with an asshole. Shit, I’m sorry.”

Minho tilted his head to the side as he regarded Jisung, his eyes blinking slowly, “That actually makes so much more sense. When I asked him if he had any single friends, he was really excited. He said he had the perfect person and that he knew we’d hit it off. He was going on and on about how annoying we’d be together and how you were totally my type and how much fun it would be for all of us to finally hang out. But when he ended up introducing me to Hyunwoo, everything felt completely off. Hyunwoo wasn’t my type, at all, and his personality was pretty uptight. I was surprised Changbin was such good friends with someone like him, but I trusted Bin knew us both well enough to know what would work. I thought Hyunwoo would loosen up a bit once we got to know each other better, but it never happened. And, well, you know how it ends.”

“I’m sorry.”

Minho shrugged lightly, his eyes landing on Jisung’s wine glass. Figuring he needed it more, Jisung snagged it and handed it over, earning a small quirk of the lips from Minho. He downed it in one gulp, then set the glass to the side and sank deeper into the water, his foot brushing Jisung’s ankle, “I didn’t even like him that much. Don’t know why I was crying.”

“It hurts,” Jisung muttered. “To not be wanted. Even if you didn’t really want the other person either.”

“Yeah,” Minho hummed lightly. “Why’d you say no? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The steam from the hot tub danced around them, Minho soft and pretty in the glow of the fairy lights as he stared at Jisung curiously. Jisung figured he’d owed him a little bit of honesty, so he admitted something he hadn’t even told Changbin when he pestered him about setting him up with Minho, “I knew you’d break up with me after a few months anyway, and I didn’t want to make things potentially awkward for Changbin.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Everyone does,” Jisung said softly. He felt Minho’s foot again, but this time it wasn’t just a brush of skin on skin. It lingered, and Jisung supposed it was meant to be comforting. Ironic that the boy who had been sobbing ten minutes ago was now trying to cheer him up. “It’s cool though. Love’s not for me, I guess.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have.”

“Maybe,” Jisung shrugged, reaching for a cracker and shoving it in his mouth, hoping Minho would take the hint that he wasn’t interested in speaking about it anymore. He did, and silence lapsed over them, broken only by the gurgling of the hot tub jets. Minho’s foot remained where it was, soothing over the bone of Jisung’s ankle, and Jisung let it stay, his mind a million miles away.

“You can put your music back on if you want,” Minho nudged him and Jisung returned to the present, suddenly all too aware of the fact that he was lounging in a hot tub on Changbin’s roof with a very attractive, very scantily clad stranger.

“This is weird, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

Jisung let Minho’s words sink in, realizing that all his discomfort was coming from the fact that he was worried about how Minho was perceiving him, and Minho didn’t seem all that bothered about sitting quietly in the hot tub with him.

“Huh. I guess not.” Jisung jabbed at his phone until the soft music returned, adjusting the volume now that he wasn’t worried about Minho being bothered by it. He let his eyes drift shut and apart from the foot that was still resting against his, the evening was exactly as he’d imagined it. He sank into the water and let himself enjoy it.

-

Jisung wandered up to the rooftop early the next morning, bleary eyed and clutching a coffee he’d made with Changbin’s espresso machine. He hadn’t even been here a full day, and he already never wanted to go back to his own stuffy apartment.

“Good morning.”

Jisung startled, nearly spilling his coffee. He shuffled forwards until he reached the gap in the trellises, leaning over to look at Minho’s roof.

The older boy was sitting cross legged on a yoga mat, damp hair plastered to his forehead. He seemed to be done with his workout, and Jisung wondered if he’d been out there since before the sun rose.

“Morning,” Jisung yawned. “Is that why your roof is so boring? So you can workout outside?”

“Rude,” Minho hummed, climbing to his feet and rolling up his yoga mat. “But yes.”

He set the mat near his door and crossed over to Jisung, stopping a few inches away from where Jisung was leaning, “Besides, Bin lets me use his roof whenever I want. So I get the fun without the upkeep.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never been invited over to use the fun roof. I’m honestly insulted.”

Minho’s voice was a little quieter when he spoke next, “I think Bin feels a bit awkward. About all this. I don’t think he wanted you to look at him differently. He really values your friendship.”

It was different, the knowledge that Changbin was rich paling in comparison to Jisung actually experiencing it, and he got that. But he was a little sad that Changbin thought it might change things between them.

Minho must have noticed Jisung’s pout because he quietly cursed under his breath, “Shit. Please don’t tell him I said anything. And don’t be sad. You’re too cute to be sad.”

“I’m not sad,” Jisung took a sip from his mug to hide his downturned lips, pointedly ignoring the part where Minho had called him cute. He knew from their conversation last night that he was Minho’s type, but his previous conviction still stood. He wasn’t ready to get his heart broken again. Even by someone that gorgeous.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” Minho pushed his sweaty hair off his forehead and tilted his head, eyes locked on Jisung. He looked like a cat, and if Jisung was a little less aware of the way Minho was staring at him, he would have pointed it out. But he had a feeling Minho might take that as flirting. 

Jisung lifted his mug to indicate that the coffee was his breakfast, and Minho let out a soft noise of disapproval, “Coffee isn’t breakfast. You need food.”

Jisung shrugged, pushing himself back from the fence and stepping away from Minho. He could feel Minho’s eyes watching him go, but Jisung didn’t go far. He set his coffee down next to the hot tub and turned it on, swirling his hand in the water until it got to a comfortable temperature. Conscious of Minho’s eyes on him, he turned his back as he pulled off his shirt, letting it drop to the roof floor and quickly scrambling into the water. Once he was safely covered, he glanced back up to find Minho was gone.

-

“Here.”

Jisung’s eyes blinked open, snapped out of his hot tub induced daze by Minho’s voice. The other boy was on Changbin’s roof again, a plate of eggs and toast in his hand. He set it down next to Jisung’s coffee, then turned on his heel. Jisung watched as he gracefully leapt the face and returned to his own roof, disappearing before Jisung could utter any words of thanks.

-

Jisung thought about climbing over to Minho’s roof and leaving the empty plate on his table with a note, but as Jisung eyed the fence, he really didn’t think he could do it. Sliding the plate through the bars and just leaving it on the floor seemed rude, so that was how Jisung found himself making his way up Minho’s front walkway, the plate in his hands and a thank you on his lips.

He rang the doorbell, rocking back onto his heels as he waited for Minho to answer. He felt kind of silly, showing up at the front door instead of just waiting until he inevitably met Minho on the roof again, but Jisung had manners. He wanted to thank him.

The door cracked open and Jisung parted his lips, plate in front of him and thanks ready, but he was startled when a hand grasped around his wrist and forcibly tugged him into the house. The door slammed shut behind him and Jisung blinked, staring at Minho with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” Minho’s hair was damp and his skin was flushed, as if he had just come out of the shower, and he looked a little sheepish when he noticed Jisung’s huge eyes. “I can’t have the door open, the cats will get out. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Uh, it’s okay,” Jisung glanced down at his hands and remembered why he was here, presenting the freshly washed plate to Minho. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Minho’s lips quirked slightly, that same softly amused smile from the night before. Jisung wondered what his full smile looked like, then quickly chased the thought out of his head. 

“You’re welcome,” Minho took the plate from him and started up his stairs, leaving Jisung a little confused. Was he free to leave, or was Minho expecting him to follow? “You can come up if you want.”

Jisung hesitated for a second before following Minho up the stairs, the main floor a spitting image of Changbin’s. Except Minho’s house looked decidedly more lived in, with a cat tree by the balcony doors and cat toys scattered over the floor. His furniture looked soft and comfortable, unlike Changbin’s stiff leather couches, and there was an orange cat sprawled across the back of the sofa. Another cat was curled in the sun coming through the French doors, and a third was winding around Jisung’s ankles.

Jisung crouched, offering the kitty his fingers to sniff before he ran his hand down the gray tabby’s back, enjoying the way he arched into Jisung’s touch. He pet the cat contently for a few minutes, until the tabby got bored and went to join where his brother was basking in the morning light.

Jisung returned to his full height, eyes flicking to the kitchen to see that Minho was watching him, that barely there smile still on his lips. Jisung flushed lightly, climbing onto one of the stools that lined Minho’s island and directing his attention back to the cats, “What are their names?”

“The one you were petting is Dori. Soonie is by the window and Doongie is on the couch.”

Jisung mumbled the names to himself and nodded, satisfied that he would remember. He swiveled back and forth on the stool, his eyes on the two felines curled up in the sun, “They’re cute.”

“Thanks,” Minho moved out of the kitchen, snagging a wand toy from the basket by his couch. He sat down cross legged on the floor near Soonie and Dori, dragging the ribbon back and forth as Dori watched it hungrily. Jisung wasn’t sure what compelled him to follow, but he crossed the room and dropped down next to Minho, their knees knocking as he copied Minho’s position. Minho glanced up from the toy to offer him a smile, a real one this time, his eyes scrunching and his full lips parting to reveal cute teeth and a tiny overbite.

Jisung forgot how to breathe.

He snapped back to reality, quickly cutting his gaze away from Minho and switching it to Dori, who was lazily batting at the ribbon. It didn’t matter how pretty Minho was, or that Changbin was convinced they’d be a perfect match. Jisung had sworn off dating after his last three relationships had ended in heart shattering disasters. He wasn’t putting himself through that again. And he wasn’t getting Changbin caught in the middle of it.

“Here,” the ribbon toy was being pressed into Jisung’s hand and he happily accepted it, letting it dance through the air and giggling as Dori leapt for it. He was faintly aware of Minho’s gaze on him, but he was too focused on playing with the kitty to think much about it. Jisung dragged the toy along the ground again, laughing brightly when it slipped by where Soonie was lounging and the cat shot out a paw, snagging it without interrupting his rest. 

Jisung wasn’t sure how long he’d been playing with the cats before he felt a hand on his thigh, Minho using his leg for leverage as he climbed to his feet. Jisung glanced up at him curiously and Minho waved his hand, “You can keep playing. I have to get ready for work.”

“Oh, shit, sorry, I’ll get out of your hair,” Jisung was about to scramble to his feet, but Minho shook his head.

“The cats like you, you can stay for a little bit longer. I’ll just be upstairs if you need anything.”

Jisung nodded and switched his attention back to the kitties, Doongie finally getting curious enough to abandon his position on the couch and come join them. Jisung found a second ribbon toy and began shaking them both, eventually getting to his feet and running around the living room as the cats followed him, leaping and hunting.

Jisung was so caught up in playing that he didn’t notice Minho was back downstairs until he ran directly into his body.

“Oof,” Jisung groaned, Minho’s fingers digging into his upper arms and steadying him as Jisung stumbled. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay,” Minho’s hands dropped from his arms, his touch lingering just slightly as Jisung stepped back. “I should have said something. I’ve been standing here for a few minutes.”

One of the cats let out an indignant yowl, and Dori batted angrily at the now still ribbon that drooped from Jisung’s hand. But Jisung barely noticed, his focus fully on Minho.

He’d already been stunning before, but he was all made up now, his hair carefully styled and his long lashed eyes darken with eyeliner. There was a shimmery shadow on his lids and a highlight drawing Jisung’s eyes to his high cheekbones, glowing even under the artificial light of his living room. He was dressed simply, in a black t-shirt and black sweatpants, and a stuffed duffle bag hung from his shoulder.

“What do you do?” Jisung breathed, his eyes unblinking on Minho’s face. It was unfair to be that pretty.

“I’m a dancer,” Minho shifted his bag, breaking Jisung out of his trance. The younger boy flushed, taking a few steps back and noticing that Minho’s ears were bright red. “I have a shoot today, the makeup’s not an everyday thing.”

“It looks really good,” Jisung assured him, even though his staring had made that obvious.

“Thanks,” Minho’s smile was the soft quirked one, drawing Jisung’s attention to his glossed lips. Jisung quickly snapped his gaze away, not wanting to get caught staring at the other boy’s mouth. “And thanks for hanging out with the kitties. You’re welcome over anytime.”

-

It had been hours since Jisung had returned to Changbin’s house, and try as he might to distract himself, he couldn’t get Minho’s smile off his mind. As he watered the plants, his thoughts drifted to Minho’s slightly off kilter front teeth. As he vacuumed, his focus was on Minho’s small overbite. As he did some laps around the block, all he could think about were Minho’s pouty lips.

He was well and truly fucked.

-

“So,” Changbin looked a little nervous on the small screen of Jisung’s phone, “how’s it going?”

“All this money and you spent it on the world's most uncomfortable couch. How’s Korea?”

Changbin seemed to relax at that, and he launched into a story about his cousins, loosening up with every word when it didn’t seem like Jisung was going to judge him. But as suddenly as he’d started, he stopped, a smirk transforming his face, “Forget about me, I have a question for you. Have you met my neighbor?”

“Perhaps.”

“And?” Changbin was beaming, clearly waiting for Jisung to profess his undying love for Minho.

“He’s nice.”

Changbin deflated slightly, “He’s nice? That’s all?”

Jisung hoped the dim lighting of Changbin’s living room was hiding his blush. Changbin didn’t need to know that Jisung hadn’t had a single thought that didn’t feature Minho all day. He nodded, reaffirming his previous statement, “He’s nice. He made me breakfast.”

“He made you breakfast?!?!” Changbin’s scream was so loud that Jisung was convinced he would have heard it from across the ocean, even without his phone. “He’s totally in love with you. Remember when I tried to set you up with my friend a few months back? That’s who I was talking about! He’s your type, isn’t he? I knew you guys would hit it off.”

Changbin’s face fell as he remembered one small detail, “Oh shit, wait, he’s dating some guy from my work that I set him up with when you said no. Damn.”

“They broke up,” Jisung cleared his throat. “Last night.”

Changbin’s eyes went wide, “Did you guys have rebound sex followed up by breakfast in bed this morning?”

“What? No!” Jisung’s face was really red now, his mind betraying him as it conjured up the image of Minho stripping before he entered the hot tub the night before. “He was just being neighborly.”

“He’s never made me breakfast before.”

“Why are you so obsessed with us anyway?”

“I’m not obsessed. I just know you haven’t always had the best luck with relationships,” Changbin’s voice grew soft. “You deserve some happiness. And so does Minho. He’s great, honestly. I think you guys would fit really well. I’ve tried to get him to come hang out with us a few times, but he mostly keeps to himself and didn’t want to do a group thing. I was surprised when he asked me about setting him up with someone, he didn’t really seem the type to put that in someone else’s hands, but I guess he was having a hard time meeting anyone since he hasn’t lived around here too long. I’m sorry it didn’t work out between them. But at least now he’s single for you!”

“Even if I was into him…which I’m not!” Jisung lied. “I wouldn’t go for someone who just got out of a relationship.”

“Well, when you’re both ready for one again, at least now you know each other. Seriously, Sung, I think he could be the love of your life.” A voice called out Changbin’s name in the background and he turned, nodding before returning his attention  to Jisung, “I have to go. Say hi to Minho for me. And tell him I’m sorry about Hyunwoo.”

“Will do,” Jisung clicked his phone off and fell backwards onto the couch, the hand with his phone it in dangling off the side. He had hoped his call with Changbin would distract him from the thoughts of Minho that plagued him, but it had just made it worse. Jisung sighed and sat up, shuffling out of the living room and heading upstairs. If he was going to be stuck on Minho anyway, he might as well go see if he was around.

Jisung made his way up to the roof and tried not to be too disappointed that both Changbin and Minho’s roofs were free of the other boy. Jisung turned on the hot tub and went back inside to procure some snacks, bringing extra this time in case Minho ended up making an appearance. 

But soon all the snacks were gone, his playlist was on the second playthrough and the other side of the hot tub was still empty. Jisung’s eyes were heavy, blinking sleepily as the warmth of the water and the bubbling of the jets lulled him towards dreamland.

-

“Wake up, you idiot!”

Jisung was being shaken and he startled awake, his surroundings slowly coming back to him. He was still in the hot tub, but he was no longer alone on the roof. Minho was here. And he looked terrified.

“Get up.” 

Jisung was still trying to come back to his senses when he felt hands slip under his arms, trying to manhandle him out of the hot tub. 

“I can do it,” Jisung muttered, climbing out of the water and suddenly becoming aware of how red his skin was. He crossed his arms over his chest as Minho looked him over, though there was nothing flirtatious in his gaze. Only concern.

Jisung shivered, dripping on the deck as Minho finished surveying him, his eyes snapping up to meet Jisung’s. A hand reached out and shoved him in the shoulder, rocking Jisung back on his heels in surprise.

“You’re so stupid! Don’t ever do that again!”

“...’m sorry,” Jisung mumbled, his eyes dropping to his feet so he didn’t have to look at Minho. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You could have drowned!”

“Sorry,” Jisung mumbled again. He hadn’t had any intention of falling asleep. He knew he wasn’t supposed to spend extended amounts of time in the hot water. He wasn’t dumb, it was an accident.

Suddenly Jisung was being bundled into a tight hug, his arms trapped against his bare chest as Minho squeezed him, not caring that Jisung wasn’t hugging him back. “You scared me to death, you idiot,” Minho’s voice was shaky, and Jisung felt awful about being the cause. “I kept calling your name and you weren’t answering and I didn’t know how long you’d been in there…” Minho pulled back, releasing Jisung and taking a deep breath. “Just, set an alarm when you’re going in from now on, okay?”

Jisung nodded, his eyes still downcast. He was shivering even harder, and as much as he’d wanted to see Minho earlier, now all he wanted was to go inside and forget how Minho’s voice sounded when it was laced with fear.

“Here.”

A hoodie was being pressed into Jisung’s hand and he took it, slipping it over his head and hugging his arms around himself again. Minho was still staring at him with that same concerned look, even though the danger of the water had passed, and Jisung shuffled awkwardly, feeling small in Minho’s sweatshirt.

“You need to hydrate,” Minho held his hand out and Jisung hesitated for only a second before he took it, allowing Minho to lead him to the door. Minho didn’t let go once they were inside, tugging Jisung down the hallway and staircase until they reached Changbin’s kitchen. 

Minho finally released him, rooting around the cabinets for a glass. He filled it with water from the fridge and returned to Jisung’s side, pressing it into his hand. Jisung accepted it, taking a few small sips as Minho watched him. Once he was satisfied Jisung could handle the drink on his own, Minho slipped out of the room, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a towel.

“You should take your shorts off. Partly because you’re dripping all over Changbin’s floors and partly because it must be uncomfortable.”

Jisung had finished his glass of water and he placed it on the counter, accepting the towel and wrapping it around his waist. He dropped his shorts, grateful he was wearing underwear even with the protection of the towel. Minho took the wet shorts, flitting into the bathroom again to hang them up to dry. Jisung stood where he’d been left, a little lightheaded in the aftermath of his extended time in the hot water.

Minho reappeared, immediately wrapping an arm around Jisung and leading him over to the couch. Jisung allowed himself to be led, too drained to be embarrassed about the situation anymore. 

“Are you lightheaded? Or nauseous?”

“Lightheaded,” Jisung muttered, sinking back into the uncomfortable couch. 

“I’ll get you some juice, stay here.”

Jisung wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon, his eyes fluttering shut as he heard Minho bumbling around the kitchen. A few seconds later a cold glass was being pressed into his hand and Jisung accepted it, draining the liquid without opening his eyes. He felt Minho take the empty glass, heard it clink against Changbin’s glass coffee table before the couch next to Jisung sank.

Minho didn’t touch him this time, but Jisung could feel him looking. He wanted to tell Minho that he was fine, that Minho was free to go home, but Jisung didn’t really feel fine. He felt cold and dizzy, and he tipped into Minho’s warmth before he realized what he was doing, his eyes still tightly shut as he leaned into the other boy.

Minho’s arm came up around him, gently rubbing Jisung’s side as Jisung’s head fell to his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Jisung mumbled, his voice muffled. “And thank you.”

“Maybe you should take a break from the hot tub for a little bit.” Minho’s hand continued soothing up and down Jisung’s side, “Just to be safe. Do you need more juice?”

“I’m okay,” Jisung’s senses were returning, his head no longer swimming the way it had been a few minutes ago. He didn’t pull away right away, enjoying a few more seconds of Minho’s warmth before he sat up, lifting his head and prying his eyes open.

Minho’s hand stayed where it was, curled around the dip of his waist, even as Jisung shifted away from him. He was still peering at him with concern, and Jisung felt the heat on his cheeks. He coughed awkwardly, pressing his hands to his knees and making to stand up. A tug on the fabric of Minho’s sweatshirt kept him seated, Minho shaking his head, “Give yourself a few more minutes.”

“I’m fine,” Jisung still didn’t feel great, but he felt better than he had when they stumbled into the house. He could handle himself from here. “Sorry for being a nuisance.”

“You aren’t a nuisance,” Minho’s fingers were still gripping his sweatshirt, keeping Jisung seated on the couch. “But please be more careful in the future.”

“I will,” Jisung noticed a stray thread on his towel, toying with it instead of looking at Minho. He suddenly remembered his conversation with Changbin earlier that day, and just for the sake of not sinking into silence, repeated the message Changbin wanted him to deliver, “Um, Bin says hi by the way. And he said sorry about Hyunwoo.”

Minho’s face changed at the mention of his ex and Jisung immediately felt stupid for bringing it up, cursing himself for opening his mouth. Minho looked…not sad necessarily, but there was definitely a dimness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Jisung was about to apologize again when Minho spoke, “I never really liked him all that much. I think I just hated being alone more. It was nice to have someone who cared.”

“Bin cares about you.”

Minho’s quirked smile was back, though it barely touched his lips this time, “Yeah, he does. He’s a good guy. He’s tried to include me, it’s my own fault I don’t have many other friends.”

“Well, now I’m your friend,” Jisung stopped tugging at the stray string and patted Minho’s thigh briefly, snatching his hand back when he felt the solid shift of muscle as Minho reacted to his touch. He’d forgotten about Minho’s very fit dancer body. At least the hot tub incident had gotten Minho off his mind for a little while. 

But now Jisung was all too aware of the warmth of Minho next to him, and the hand on his waist, and the fact that Jisung was wearing Minho’s sweatshirt and not much else. 

“I think I’m okay to go to bed now,” Jisung knew he’d be lying awake thinking about Minho’s thighs for at least three hours, but that was definitely none of Minho’s business. “I’ll wash your sweatshirt and bring it back tomorrow.”

Minho looked like he wanted to say something else, but he closed his mouth and nodded, letting his fingers fall from where they gripped Jisung. Jisung got to his feet, slightly unsteady and clutching the towel that was wrapped around him. Minho was on his feet in an instant, arm out to catch Jisung if he stumbled, but not quite touching him. 

“I’m fine,” Jisung assured him, taking a few steps to show Minho he was okay. “Um, I’ll walk you out.”

“It’s okay, I know the way,” Minho gave him a small smile, one of the real ones. “Night, Jisung.”

Jisung was too starstruck to respond. 

-

Jisung overslept the next morning, exhausted from the incident the night before. He washed Minho’s sweatshirt and watered the plants, but spent the rest of the day lazing around on the couch, watching tv and recovering. He wasn’t sure what Minho’s work hours were like, and he didn’t want to accidentally intrude like he had the day before. He knew Minho would be on the roof the next morning, so he could return his sweatshirt and thank him again then. He just had to make sure he was awake.

-

The sun was just starting to make its crawl across the morning sky when Jisung pushed outside, Minho’s sweatshirt bundled in his arms. He was wearing an oversized hoodie of his own and a pair of joggers, the hood pulled up over his messy bedhead. He shuffled across Changbin’s deck, sleepy eyes on his bare feet, until he made it to the fence that separated Bin’s roof from Minho’s. He leaned against it, lifting his gaze.

Minho was outside, his eyes closed and his arms stretching towards the sky, and he was shirtless .

Jisung choked and Minho’s eyes snapped open, his arms dropping as he made eye contact with Jisung.

“I, um, your hoodie.” Jisung held up the material in question, not wanting Minho to think that he was slinking around the deck at dawn spying on him. “I’ll, uh, just leave it here I guess.”

“You can come over, if you want.” Minho didn’t seem uncomfortable, not making any move to cover his body the way Jisung had the few times he’d been exposed to the other boy. He continued his stretching, missing the way Jisung’s eyes drank in the twist of his bare shoulders. “I have an extra mat.”

Jisung didn’t even want to be awake at this hour, let alone exercise, but Minho had done a lot for him. If Minho wanted him to hang out with him, it would be the polite thing to do. It had nothing to do with the rippling of Minho’s lean muscles under his skin.

There was just one issue.

“I don’t think I can hop the fence.”

“Oh.” Minho laughed and crossed to where Jisung stood, reaching for a latch Jisung had never noticed. “It’s a gate.”

Jisung blinked as it swung open, surprise filtering over his features, “But…you always jump.”

“Only when you’re looking,” Minho’s ears were flushed, the red noticeable as he returned to his yoga mat, Jisung trailing behind him. “I was just trying to impress you. Did you think I jumped the fence with a plate in my hand the other day?”

“I don’t know,” Jisung followed him, accepting the spare mat Minho pressed into his chest. “I guess I didn’t think about it at all.”

Jisung laid his yoga mat out next to Minho’s, following the softly spoken instructions from the other boy as they stretched. The sun rose in front of them, streaking the sky pink, and Jisung had to admit it wasn’t the worst way to start the day. He could understand why Minho kept the space open for this.

Minho finished his stretching and rolled his mat up, setting it near the table and chairs. Jisung followed suit, leaning his mat against the wall and taking a step backwards, ready to bid Minho farewell and head back to bed. 

Except Minho had other plans.

“Inside or outside?”

“Huh?” “Do you want to eat breakfast inside or outside?” Minho had slipped into the sweatshirt that Jisung had returned and he peered at the younger boy from the inside of the oversized hood, patiently awaiting an answer.

“I, uh, inside, I guess.”

Minho seemed satisfied with that answer, giving a short nod before crossing to the door. Jisung remembered what he’d said about the cats, so he moved in close behind him, so that they could slip inside together when Minho tugged the door open. 

Jisung followed him to the main floor, immediately beelining for the cats while Minho rolled up his sleeves and headed for the fridge, “Omlettes okay?”

“Whatever you’re making is great,” Jisung found the ribbon toy he’d played with last time and sat down crosslegged on the living room floor, enticing Dori into a game of chase. He could hear Minho moving around the kitchen, humming under his breath as he chopped up a bell pepper. Jisung belatedly realized how rude he was being and he climbed to his feet, whispering an apology to Dori before he made his way to the kitchen.

“Do you need help with anything?”

Minho spared him a glance over his shoulder, the rhythm of his chopping not faltering at all, “No, it’s okay. You can hang out with the cats.”

“Are you sure?” Jisung rocked back on his heels, eyeing the ingredients Minho had spread out on the counter. “I can cut the mushrooms. Or the Spam.”

“You’re my guest, you don’t have to do anything.”

“Yeah, but,” Jisung rocked back on his heels, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie, “you’ve already done so much for me. I can help.”

Minho stopped chopping and eyed him for a second before he nodded, “If it makes you feel better, then fine. You can cut the Spam. There’s an extra cutting board in the cabinet next to the oven.”

Jisung retrieved the cutting board and a knife from the wooden block on the counter, working on cutting the Spam into even, bite-sized pieces. He didn’t have much practice in the kitchen, was more of a ramen or take-out kind of guy, so he was paying extra attention to what he was doing, his tongue poking through his lips in concentration.

Jisung heard a breathy laugh from his side and he glanced up to see Minho watching him fondly, the mushrooms already diced on his own cutting board. 

“Am I going too slow?”

“No, no, you’re fine. It’s cute, how concentrated you are.”

Jisung flushed lightly, his eyes going back to the Spam, “I don’t cook much. Well, ever. I didn’t want to mess up.”

“It’s pretty hard to mess up cutting Spam. Unless you cut yourself. Please don’t cut yourself.” Minho began cracking eggs into a large bowl, his attention shifting away from Jisung and allowing Jisung to hurriedly chop up the rest of the Spam. He slid the cutting board towards Minho, who thanked him with a small smile and dumped it in with the rest of the ingredients. Jisung gathered the knives and cutting boards they’d used, bringing them over to the sink and rinsing them off as Minho began cooking the omelettes. 

With Minho concentrated on what he was doing, Jisung poked around the cabinets until he’d found where Minho kept the plates, grabbing two and two pairs of chopsticks from the drawer next to the sink. He set them down next to the stove, earning another pretty smile from Minho. 

Satisfied that he’d earned his keep, Jisung returned to his spot on the floor, playing around with Dori until Minho informed him that the food was ready.

Jisung joined Minho at the table, thanking him before digging in. The omelette was delicious and Jisung made sure to let him know that, shoving a few more bites in his mouth before he realized that Minho wasn’t eating, his soft gaze locked on Jisung.

Jisung was suddenly all too aware of the food he had stuffed in his cheeks and he swallowed, reaching slowly for another piece and making sure he chewed it all and swallowed it down before going for another. Minho snapped out of whatever trance he was in, blinking a few times before clearing his throat, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t judging how you were eating.”

Minho turned his attention to his own food, making quick work of his own omelette. Seeing how fast he was eating made Jisung feel a little better, and he went back to enjoying his breakfast without worrying about how he looked. Minho was halfway done when he suddenly stood up, looking apologetic, “I’m so sorry. I forgot to make you coffee.”

Jisung swallowed, shaking his head lightly, “It’s okay. I can make some at Changbin’s house. He has a fancy machine.”

“Are you sure?” Minho hovered over his chair, but he didn’t return to his seat. “Do you want water or orange juice or anything? I’m a terrible host.”

“You’re an excellent host. You didn’t have to host me at all. I’m fine without a drink, seriously.”

Minho was still hovering, worrying his bottom lip, and Jisung reacted without thinking, reaching out to tug on the pocket of Minho’s sweatpants until he sat down again. He dropped suddenly and Jisung’s hand followed, landing on his thigh as Minho returned to his seat. 

Minho picked up his chopsticks and began eating again, seemingly unperturbed by Jisung’s hand on his leg. Jisung didn’t want to just snatch it away and have Minho think Jisung was uncomfortable, so he gave it a light squeeze before returning his hand to the table and finishing his meal. 

“I can do the dishes, since you were nice enough to cook,” Jisung got to his feet, gathering both empty plates as Minho looked up at him, lips parting, and Jisung brandished his chopsticks at him. “Don’t say no.”

Minho snapped his mouth shut, huffing out a laugh as Jisung gave a satisfied nod, “You just relax. I won’t fuck anything up, I promise.”

Jisung felt Minho’s eyes on him as he moved to the kitchen, setting the dishes gently down in the sink. He grabbed the pan Minho had used to cook the omelette in and added it to his pile, flipping on the faucet and getting to work with the sponge. He heard Minho stand and a few seconds later an arm brushed his, Minho grabbing the dish towel that hung near the sink.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” Jisung grumbled, but he passed the cleaned plate to Minho anyway. They worked in comfortable silence, making quick work of the dishes as one of the cats wove between their legs. Jisung dried his hands on the towel Minho was still holding before bending down and scooping the kitty up, burying his nose in his orange fur, “Hi, Soonie.”

Minho made a noise of surprise and Jisung looked up, a question in his eyes. Minho jerked his head towards the cat in Jisung’s arms, “You got his name right.”

“Well, yeah, you told me their names last time.”

“I know. People get him and Doongie mixed up a lot though. Hyunwoo never could tell them apart, even after months.”

Jisung blinked, confused, “Soonie has more white fur. And his nose is white. Doongie’s is orange.”

Minho’s smile was the pretty one Jisung liked, but it wasn’t directed at him. Minho was looking down at his own feet, clearly trying to hide how pleased he was that Jisung had noticed the difference in his cats. Jisung felt a wave of hatred for Hyunwoo. It was a basic courtesy to know your partner’s pets, especially when they clearly meant so much to Minho.

“He sounds like a shitty boyfriend.” Jisung winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. That was meant to be an inside thought. “I’m sorry, please pretend I didn’t say that.”

“He was okay,” Minho said lightly. “The cats didn’t like him much, I should have taken that as a sign. But it is what it is, it’s over now.”

“Yeah,” Jisung returned his face to Soonie’s, nuzzling against the cat again to stop himself from making any more comments about Hyunwoo. Minho clearly didn’t want to talk about it. “Thank you again for breakfast. And kitty snuggles. I’ll let you get ready for work.”

“Oh, I don’t have work today, we finished up the shoot yesterday. So you can stay. If you want!” Minho hurriedly tacked on. “But you aren’t bothering me in any way if you hang out. Do you like anime? We could watch something. Or maybe I’m bothering you and you were just using work as a polite excuse to leave. Feel free to go back to Changbin’s.”

Jisung did kind of want to go back to bed. But he also did really like anime. And Minho’s couch was way more comfortable than Changbin’s.

“I’ll stay,” he decided. “I love anime.”

Minho’s face lit up and before Jisung knew it, the entire day had passed, spread out on Minho’s couch as they half watched Nana and half discussed their favorite shows. Jisung had grown more comfortable with each passing minute and by the time the sun had set and he realized he should probably get going, his legs were tangled with Minho’s under the blanket they were sharing. 

“Sorry,” Jisung slipped his foot out from where it was resting between Minho’s thighs, a blush starting to spread up his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to steal your whole day off.”

Minho blinked, his own foot stopping its crawl up and down Jisung’s shin, and glanced towards the balcony doors, “Oh, I didn’t realize it was that late. I didn’t even offer you dinner.”

They’d shared a pizza sometime in the afternoon, so Jisung wasn’t hungry, and he quickly waved away Minho’s concern, “You fed me enough today, honestly. Thank you.”

“Wait! Before you go…” Minho swung his legs off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen and over to the fridge. He emerged with a small homemade cheesecake, holding it proudly out to Jisung as Jisung sat up, “Bin said you liked cheesecake.”

Jisung stared at the dessert, his mind reeling, “You talked to Bin about me?”

Minho’s flushed ears were back and he nodded, bringing the cheesecake and a fork over to the coffee table and setting them down in front of Jisung, “He called me yesterday. He wanted to apologize about the Hyunwoo situation himself. He was also very interested in how things were going with us.” Minho’s ears grew redder, “Not that there is an us, obviously. But, yeah, he mentioned cheesecake was a good way to your heart.”

Jisung sank back into the couch, his eyelids fluttering as he processed Minho’s words. He knew Minho had been a little flirty with him, and that he was obviously hurting in the wake of his breakup, even if he was downplaying it, but this went a step further. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, blurting out, “Are you trying to get to my heart?”

Minho looked incredibly nervous as he stood in front of Jisung, soft and vulnerable under his oversized hood, his trembling hands dwarfed by the sleeves of his sweatshirt, “Is that okay?”

Jisung wasn’t sure what to say. His previous conviction about not wanting to enter into a new relationship still stood, but he had been having a hard time keeping Minho out of his thoughts. And he’d had a really good time today, barely noticing the hours tick by. They had a lot of interests in common, and Minho had been really sweet to him from the moment they’d met. If Jisung had met Minho a year ago, before he’d sworn off of love, he’d be crushing on him hard.

The longer the silence dragged, the more uncomfortable Minho started to look, retreating even further into his hoodie. Jisung knew he needed to say something, but when he opened his mouth, no words came out.

“I’m sorry,” Minho finally mumbled, his eyes focused somewhere beyond Jisung’s shoulder and not on his face. “I overstepped. I hope you can still enjoy the cheesecake though. It’s yours to take back to Changbin’s. Uh, you know the way out. I’m just going to…” Minho gestured towards the stairs, and before Jisung could utter a word, he’d turned and fled up them, leaving Jisung alone with his thoughts and a rapidly thawing cheesecake.

-

The cheesecake was delicious and Jisung realized he didn’t have Minho’s number to tell him so. He didn’t think Minho would want to see him any time soon, so he left the empty dish with a thank you note on the table on Minho’s roof.

Three days later, it was still there.

-

“I fucked up,” Jisung groaned into the phone, wiggling around on Changbin’s stupid couch as he tried to get comfortable. “I should have said something. Even if it was just to tell him that I’m not ready yet. But I just stared at him like he was crazy.”

“Didn’t you say he lives next door?” Chan sounded confused. “Just go over and talk to him.”

“I can’t,” Jisung whined, finally giving up on the couch and rolling off to splay out on the floor instead. “He’s avoiding me.”

“You’ve tried to talk to him?”

“Well, no,” Jisung stared up at Changbin’s ceiling. He’d never noticed the chandelier before. “He’s not coming out on the roof anymore. We always met up on the roof. So obviously he doesn’t want to see me.”

“No shit, Sherlock. He’s embarrassed because you rejected him. You have to initiate the conversation.”

“I didn’t reject him.”

“No answer is a rejection, Sung.”

“I don’t want to get hurt again,” Jisung's voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure Chan had even heard him. He blinked up at the now blurry chandelier, not sure when his tears had started. He loved so openly, so wholeheartedly, and all it had done was left him bruised and guarded. He wasn’t ready to trust someone else with his heart again, barely able to pick himself up after the last time he’d had it stomped on. It had nothing to do with Minho, and everything to do with Jisung.

He knew Chan was right, that he should go over and explain himself, but he’d already hurt Minho enough. Maybe it was okay to just leave it as it was. He’d be home in a week anyway, and Minho would be nothing but a distant memory.

“Do you like him?”

Jisung did, and that was the worst part. The last three days had been filled with thoughts of what might have happened if he’d accepted Minho’s advances. Shared meals, nights in the hot tub, mornings on Minho’s roof, cuddling on the couch, walks around the neighborhood, getting to know each other slowly and comfortably. His thoughts drifted to Minho’s pretty mouth, to his full downturned top lip and his cute teeth, to the way he had been beaming at Jisung right before he hurt him.

Chan sighed, “You should talk to him, Jisung.”

Jisung mumbled a goodbye, hanging up with Chan and dialing Changbin. He had an important question to ask.

-

Jisung clutched the grocery bag tightly in his hand, waiting nervously on Minho’s front step. He’d checked to make sure the other boy’s car was parked out front before he came over, and it was, but he’d already rang the doorbell twice and knocked once, and there had been no answer. He would give it one more try before accepting Minho wanted nothing to do with him and returning to Changbin’s house.

Jisung lifted his fist to knock for the final time just as the door slowly crept open, Minho peeking out through the gap, “Do you need something?”

“I, um, I wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay.”

Before Minho could respond, a gray shape darted past him, Dori squeezing through the small crack in the door. Jisung was thankful for his quick reaction time as snagged him with one arm, bringing the squirming cat to his chest as Minho gasped. He opened the door fully, ushering Jisung inside.

Minho’s eyes were wide with fear and his hands were shaking as he accepted his cat from Jisung, hugging him tightly. Dori purred happily, completely oblivious to the panic he had almost caused.

“Thank you,” Minho mumbled to Jisung, his face pressed against Dori’s fur and his voice thick with tears. “Bad kitty! Don’t scare me like that!”

Jisung hovered awkwardly, waiting until Minho finished chastising Dori and set him down. When he looked up, Jisung noticed that his hair was sopping wet and his eyes were ringed with smeared makeup.

“Sorry,” Minho mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “I was in the shower.”

“Oh,” Jisung rocked back onto his heels, feeling bad for interrupting. “I’m sorry. You should have just ignored me.”

“You wouldn’t have come back if I did,” Minho stated plainly, turning around and starting up the stairs. Jisung followed him, his bag still clutched tightly in his hand. When they reached the main floor Minho gestured towards the bathroom and Jisung nodded, perching himself on the edge of the couch as Minho disappeared to wipe off the remains of his makeup.

He returned shortly after, face bare of everything but nerves. He sat down next to Jisung, not close enough to touch, but not far enough away to make Jisung feel like his presence was unwelcome.

“Did you have a shoot today?” Jisung knew he should just come out and say what he came here to say, but maybe things would be easier if they made meaningless small talk first. 

“No,” Minho stared down at his hands, tucked into his sleeves and resting on his knees. “I was taking pictures. For a dating profile.”

“Oh.”

Minho coughed awkwardly and kneaded at his knees, another very feline habit, “Yeah. So, what’s up?”

“This is for you,” Jisung lifted his bag and tipped it out over onto the couch, pudding cups raining down as Minho blinked at them. “Bin said you like some fancy Japanese pudding but I couldn’t find it at the store. I ordered some but I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take to come and I didn’t want to put off apologizing any longer, so, um, I just got whatever they had at the grocery store. I hope you like one of these. If you don’t, that’s cool, I’ll drop the Japanese one off when it comes. But, yeah, I’m sorry. For not responding to what you said the other night. I’m really sorry.”

Minho was still staring at the pudding, brows furrowed in confusion. Jisung felt stupid, but Minho had tried to win him over with dessert, so he thought this was the best move for an apology. But maybe he was wrong.

“You don’t have to apologize for not liking me,” Minho huffed. “It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting you to. I was just hoping maybe you’d be open to exploring something in the future once we knew each other better. But you don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. I owe you an explanation. And the apology is for not saying anything, I shouldn’t have just stayed silent like that.”

“It’s okay,” Minho insisted. Then, softer, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Even if the answer is yes?”

 Minho blinked, once, then twice, “What?”

“I would like to spend more time with you. And get to know you better. I’m not ready for a relationship right now, and I know you just got out of one and need to recover from that too, but I’d like to be around when the time is right. If you still want me to be.” Jisung made sure he was looking at Minho when he spoke, though the older boy’s eyes kept flitting away from eye contact, bashful as Jisung’s words set in. “And if I missed my chance, that’s my fault. Feel free to tell me to shove it and leave.”

“Want to watch a movie?”

A small half smile crept onto Jisung’s face and he nodded, the tension completely dissolved. Minho tapped his bottom lip with his finger as he surveyed the pudding choices spread out on the couch, finally snagging a cup and indicating for Jisung to do the same. Jisung made his selection, then scooped the rest of them back into the bag as Minho went to retrieve two spoons. 

“Howl’s Moving Castle?” Minho asked as he collapsed back onto the couch, spoon held out to Jisung and his spot a little closer to where Jisung was sitting than it had been before.

“We don’t always have to watch my favorite things,” Jisung accepted the spoon, peeling the lid back on his pudding cup and taking a spoonful. “You can choose the movie since I picked the anime the other day.”

“I like watching you watch the things you love,” Minho looked a little shy, but he met Jisung’s eyes with a soft smile. “You have a really expressive face. It’s cute.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll never say no to Howl’s.” Jisung made quick work of his pudding cup as Minho set the movie up, sinking back into the couch cushions as Minho pressed play. He was immediately enraptured with the movie, though he’d seen it enough times to quote the whole thing, but he could still feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on him. Whenever he snuck a peek himself Minho would return his attention to the movie and take a small bite of his pudding, ears tipped red even though he’d admitted to Jisung he was going to be staring at him. 

Jisung kept his eyes on Minho until the other boy looked over at him again, soft lips pursed around the spoon in his mouth. He flushed, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jisung grinned. “You’re cute too.”

Minho pulled the spoon out of his mouth, his gaze dropping to his lap with a pleased smile, “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if…Thank you.”

“Wasn’t sure if what?”

“If you thought I was attractive.”

Jisung stared at him, his mouth open and his eyes wide. Minho shifted a little uncomfortably, his eyes snapping to Jisung’s and then back down to his lap, “I think everyone on the planet would find you attractive.”

“I only care about what you think,” Minho set his pudding cup and spoon on the table next to Jisung’s, sitting back to sink deeper into the couch. His thigh brushed Jisung’s as he did so, and the younger boy’s eyes dropped to where their legs had briefly touched. He shifted his hips slightly so their legs pressed together, then returned his attention to the movie. Minho’s thigh was warm against his own and Jisung felt a little stupid for the way it had his heart beat stuttering. They’d touched before, the heat of Minho’s body nothing new, but it felt different this time. Heavier. More important.

Minho shifted too, and now their arms joined their legs, just the smallest hint of warmth. Jisung was the one who had left Minho in the dark for days, and he knew it was up to him to push things a little further. So he reached out, grasping Minho’s leg and pulling it up and over his own before he could think about it too much, his hand resting on Minho’s bare thigh as the older boy made a soft noise of surprise.

Jisung kept his eyes on the tv screen, but his thumb soothed over Minho’s skin, his shorts riding up where Jisung had grabbed him. It took a few minutes, but eventually Minho relaxed into him, slipping down so his head could rest comfortably on Jisung’s shoulder. 

By the time the movie finished, Minho’s breath had evened out, fast asleep against Jisung. Jisung moved slowly and cautiously, not wanting to wake Minho as he reached for the remote and shut the tv off. The living room fell into darkness and Jisung gripped Minho’s thigh a little bit tighter as he dropped his cheek to rest against Minho’s still slightly damp hair. Jisung breathed in the scent of Minho’s coconut shampoo and succumbed to his own sleepiness.

-

Jisung was alone when he woke up the next morning, blinking blearily in the harsh light that filtered through the balcony doors. He sat up, rubbing at his tired eyes as he took in his surroundings. He was on Minho’s couch and the space next to him was still warm when Jisung set his hand there to push himself to his feet, as if Minho had just departed. The kitchen was empty and the bathroom door loomed open, so wherever Minho had gone, it wasn’t on this floor. Jisung didn’t want to go stumbling around the parts of Minho’s house he hadn’t been privy to, so he shuffled into the kitchen and glanced around for the coffee maker.

“Oh, you’re up.”

Jisung turned to see Minho at the top of the stairs, still in his oversized hoodie and shorts from the night before. His hair was mussed and his eyes were heavy, and he clearly hadn’t been awake too much longer than Jisung.

“Sorry, I had to feed the cats. I didn’t mean to abandon you.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung yawned, leaning against the counter as Minho joined him in the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“There’s a coffee shop about a five minute walk away.” Minho opened the cabinet and pulled out a jar of instant coffee, “Or I have this if you need it now.”

“We can go to the coffee shop,” Jisung pushed off the counter, then realized what he’d said. “Or I can go to the coffee shop, sorry, I don’t know what your schedule is like.”

“I have practice, but not until later in the afternoon. We can get coffee.”

“Okay, cool,” it wasn’t a date, not yet, but suddenly Jisung felt nervous. This was a new experience; all the people he’d dated in the past had been met on dating apps or picked up at the bar. He’d never courted anyone before. “I’m gonna run back to Bin’s and shower quickly if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Minho ruffled his own messy bangs and huffed out a laugh, “I should probably finish my shower from last night. Meet out front in 30?”

Jisung agreed and the boys went their separate ways. Jisung showered quickly, cursing his past self for mostly packing comfy clothes to bring to Changbin’s. He threw on the only pair of jeans he had and his softest gray hoodie, shoving his feet into his boots and hurrying outside to meet Minho.

Minho was already there, perched on the wall in front of his house with his feet swinging. He was dressed simply, in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, his hair styled carefully over his forehead and his face lightly made up. He glanced over when Jisung emerged, flashing a small smile.

“You look nice,” Jisung slipped his hands in his pockets as Minho jumped off the wall, their steps falling into sync as they headed down the sidewalk.

“Thank you,” Minho looked pleased, and Jisung wondered if he had done the makeup specifically because Jisung had complimented him the last time he was wearing it. 

“You always look nice,” Jisung blurted, not wanting Minho to think he had to be wearing makeup for Jisung to notice him. “And you have a really pretty smile.” There was the smile in question, directed at Jisung and not at the ground this time, “Thanks.”

Jisung nodded, glancing around as they made their way across the park in the middle of the private community, heading for the gate and the small strip of stores beyond. 

“It must be so nice to live here.” Jisung worked from home, and most of his hobbies were also done indoors, but he’d been enjoying the walkability of Changbin’s neighborhood since he’d been here. It was a pleasant change to be surrounded by trees and birds instead of city sidewalks crowded with jostling bodies.

“It is,” Minho hummed. “I’ve only lived here for about six months but it’s been great.”

“Where did you live before?”

They fell into an easy conversation about their childhoods and where they grew up, Jisung grabbing the door to the coffee shop and holding it open for Minho when they arrived. There was no break in conversation, even as they waited in line, chatting until the second the barista took their order. 

Minho went first, and Jisung nudged him out of the way when he went to pay, shaking his head, “I got it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“And you didn’t have to make me breakfast twice, but you did. So I got it.”

“Okay,” Minho shoved his phone back in his pocket and Jisung placed his order, paying for both of them before following Minho to a small secluded table in the back corner of the shop. Minho launched into the tale of how him and Changbin had become friends (not much different to Jisung and Minho’s first meeting, though there were less tears and no stripping) and Jisung countered with his own Changbin friendship story (nervous freshman Jisung accidentally dropped his ridiculously thick biology textbook on Changbin’s foot). When the barista called their drinks, Jisung went and retrieved them, passing Minho’s off to him with a brush of their fingers. 

They stayed in the back of the cafe for hours, talking about college and their careers and their hobbies. Minho shared videos of some of the artists he’d danced for and Jisung showed him his SoundCloud and played him some of his favorite songs he’d made. The conversation flowed easily, just as it had the day they’d lost themselves in anime, and Jisung would have stayed there all day if Minho hadn’t looked at the time and cursed.

“Shit, I should have left ten minutes ago. I’m sorry to just run out on you.”

“You’re fine,” Jisung waved him off. “I know my way back. I hope you aren’t too late.”

“Thanks,” Minho scrambled to his feet, clearly harried as he grabbed his trash and his phone. He was distracted and they’d been having a wonderful time, heads bent together and knees occasionally knocking under the table. That could be the only reason why he did what he did next.

Minho leaned in and pressed a quick goodbye kiss to Jisung’s lips, shoving his phone in his pocket as he turned to head out the door, “I’ll see you later.”

He’d only taken a few steps before he froze, the realization of what he’d just done sinking in. Minho turned back around, eyes wide with horror. He was met by a matching expression, Jisung’s mouth open in surprise and his fingers against his lips.

“I’m so sorry,” Minho’s ears were redder than Jisung had ever seen them and he looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. “It was just instinct, I wasn’t thinking, I just…”

“You’re going to be late,” Jisung choked out, his fingers still pressed to the place Minho’s mouth had just been. It had only been the briefest of touches, so light it was barely a kiss, and Jisung’s entire body was on fire. If Minho took even one step closer and Jisung so much as smelt his shampoo, he was going to combust. “It’s okay. Go.”

“Jisung…”

“It’s fine, seriously,” Jisung knew his voice sounded wrecked, and he hoped Minho didn’t think it was because he was upset. How pathetic was he to have his entire world rocked by just a smooch? “I promise, Minho. It’s okay.”

Minho seemed torn and his eyes danced across Jisung’s face, searching for the truth in his words. Jisung offered him a smile that he hoped didn’t look too pained and Minho finally gave a short nod, twisting on his heel and fleeing the coffee shop.

Jisung sank back into his seat, his hands coming up to cover his burning face as he groaned.

-

Jisung still didn’t have Minho’s number so he spent most of his evening peeking out Changbin’s front windows, waiting for Minho to return. He didn’t want another few days to pass with miscommunication, not after they’d been having such a nice time.

Minho had barely set one foot out of his car before Jisung was bursting out the front door, startling the older boy as he grabbed his bag and finished exiting his car.

“Hi!” Jisung skidded to a stop on the sidewalk in front of Changbin’s house, breathless as Minho tilted his head and blinked at him for a few seconds.

A tentative smile crept across Minho’s face as he shouldered his bag and slammed his car door shut, joining Jisung on the sidewalk, “Hi.”

“How was work?” Jisung bounced a little on his toes, slightly anxious for Minho to speak. He wanted everything to be how it was this morning, when it was easy and silly, and he hoped Minho hadn’t spent his whole day stewing in his mistake. “Did you make it on time?”

“It was fine,” Minho started up his front walk, Jisung trailing closely behind. “I was a few minutes late but I just blamed it on traffic.”

Minho stopped in front of his front door and Jisung slammed into his back, still stuck in his head and a little oblivious. Minho huffed out a small laugh when he stumbled back, profusely apologizing.

Minho opened his front door cautiously, making sure none of the cats were plotting an escape, before slipping in with Jisung. Once they were inside, Jisung realized he hadn’t been invited, had just been following Minho like a lost puppy, and he was opening his mouth to apologize for what Minho’s kiss had done to his brain when Minho dropped his bag and started up the stairs, “Spy x Family?”

“Yes!” Jisung scrambled up after him, relieved that it seemed they were just going to pick up where they left off.

“Feel free to get it started,” Minho gestured towards the tv. “I’m going to change. And feed the cats. Did you eat dinner yet?” Jisung had forgotten about dinner. He’d forgotten about everything except making sure he and Minho were okay. 

“No, I didn’t. But I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

“I’m making fried rice. There will be more than enough for both of us.” Minho disappeared up the stairs and Jisung settled onto the couch, pulling the show up but not pressing play. He wanted to wait for Minho, even though he had said it was okay. He scrolled through his phone, liking some pictures Changbin had posted from South Korea, and tried not to glance at the stairs every two seconds. After what felt like an eternity Minho returned, telling Jisung again that he was free to start the show before he disappeared downstairs to deal with the cats. 

Jisung still waited, and when Minho appeared this time, he just rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen.

“I’m waiting for you,” Jisung huffed. “It would be rude to start without you. Especially since I just crashed your evening uninvited.”

“You aren’t uninvited,” Minho began gathering the things he needed to make dinner and Jisung joined him in the kitchen, retrieving the spare cutting board and knife that he’d used last time. Minho didn’t protest, just silently handed him a carrot and continued with what he was doing. “I told you the first time you came over that you were welcome anytime.”

“That’s just something people say,” Jisung waved him off, turning his attention to the carrot on the cutting board.

“Not me. I meant it.”

“Oh, well, in that case..” Jisung laid down the knife and pretended to step away, laughing when Minho pouted. He picked it back up and got to work, proud of how evenly he managed to chop the pieces this time. When he was done Minho insisted once again that he turn the show on, and this time Jisung listened.

After pressing play Jisung returned to the kitchen with Minho instead of lounging on the couch, watching the older boy cook. The space wasn’t that large, and Minho was using a lot of it, and it took Jisung way too long to realize his presence in the room was more of a nuisance than anything. But Minho never kicked him out, just worked around him, his hand occasionally finding a place on Jisung’s hip to nudge him out of the way. 

And since Minho didn’t seem to mind, and Jisung liked being touched…

“Okay, now you’re doing that on purpose,” Minho laughed, grabbing Jisung’s waist with both hands and moving him away from the stove.

“Doing what?” Jisung asked innocently, immediately returning to his spot in front of the burner the second Minho released him.

“You know what,” Minho wrapped his entire arm around Jisung, pulling him backwards into his chest. But he didn’t release him, or move him out of the way, just kept him tight against his body with one arm as he pushed the fried rice around the pan with the other. “Is this what you wanted?”

Jisung hadn’t even known this was an option, but now that he did, yes, this was absolutely what he wanted. He nodded, relaxing into Minho’s hold as Minho lifted the spatula to Jisung’s mouth, “Taste.”

Jisung accepted the bite of food, informing Minho that it was delicious. The older boy turned off the stove, but he made no move to release Jisung, shifting them around the kitchen in tandem as he plated up their dinner. Jisung let himself be led, Minho’s arm warm and solid around his midsection.

Minho handed Jisung his plate, then picked up his own with the hand that wasn’t dug into the curve of Jisung’s waist. They shuffled over to the living room, Jisung giggling at how ridiculous the whole thing was as Minho eyed the couch.

“I think this is where we have to part ways.”

“Good thing we eat fast,” Jisung wiggled out of Minho’s hold and plopped down on the couch, already beginning to scarf down his dinner as Minho dropped into the space next to him. They ate in silence, their legs and arms brushing, until Jisung noticed something that had him pausing.

“I thought you were a lefty.” “Huh?” Minho glanced up, his fork clutched in his right hand as his left shoulder brushed Jisung’s. “Oh, I use both.”

“That’s sexy,” Jisung blurted, then flushed when Minho laughed.

“Is it?”

Jisung doubled down, nodding solemnly despite his red cheeks, “Very sexy.”

“Good to know,” Minho grinned. “I’ll have to make sure to include that on my dating profile.”

Jisung suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore, and he pushed the rice around his plate as he fixed his attention on the tv. He didn’t like the way his stomach was churning at Minho’s words, the way it twisted and clenched. Jisung knew they were just getting to know each other, but he hadn’t realized Minho was open to getting to know other people as well. Jisung didn’t like the sound of that at all.

Minho seemed to be confused as to why Jisung had suddenly grown mopey, until he processed his own words. He nudged Jisung’s arm, tapping him with his elbow until Jisung tore his eyes away from the tv and finally looked at him.

“Should I delete it?”

It sounded like a simple question, but Jisung knew it wasn’t. There was an extra weight to it, an extra expectation if Jisung answered a certain way. He could see Minho’s teeth digging into his bottom lip, could see the hope in his eyes.

Jisung didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.” -

Jisung stepped back and surveyed his work, proud of what he’d done. Changbin was returning in the morning, so it was Jisung’s last night being close to Minho. Changbin’s roof was already pretty romantic, but Jisung had scattered around some rose petals and added a few candles to the tray sporting the Japanese pudding Minho liked. He’d found another small table and set his laptop on it, so they could watch an episode of anime or listen to music if they wanted. He had a bottle of wine for them both and a slice of cheesecake for himself, and the jets on the hot tub had just been switched on when Minho emerged.

Minho unlatched the gate and slipped through, padding barefoot over to where Jisung stood by the hot tub. Jisung was already shirtless, and he could feel Minho’s heavy eyes on him through the steam.

“Hi.” Jisung wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. They’d been hanging out every day, marinating on Minho’s couch cuddled together or going on walks through the neighborhood with their hands entwined. They hadn’t taken it further than that, Minho’s accidental kiss at the coffee shop still the only time their lips had met, but Jisung’s every thought was plagued by Minho’s mouth. He was hoping tonight he’d be brave enough to cross the line.

“Hi,” Minho’s gaze flicked from Jisung’s tattoos up to his eyes, hazy in the soft glow of the fairy lights. “Is this why you ran away from dinner?”

They’d been eating on Minho’s couch, as they had been every night, when Jisung had remembered that he wanted to do something special and took off with a breathy ‘meet me on the roof in 20.’

“Since it’s our last night, I thought it would be nice to end it where it started,” Jisung swirled his fingers in the water, testing the temperature as Minho grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled upwards. Jisung drank in the view, not at all embarrassed to be caught staring when Minho finally tugged the shirt over his head and dropped it to the deck.

Jisung’s eyes went lower, to where Minho hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, snapping them back up when Minho laughed.

“What? I didn’t get to properly enjoy it last time you stripped.”

Minho made a show of swaying his hips as he slowly inched his pants down, stepping out of them and moving his hands to the waistband of his underwear, “Are we skinny dipping?”

“I don’t think Changbin would like it if we had our dicks out in his hot tub.”

“I think Changbin would love if we, together, had our dicks out in his hot tub. But okay,” Minho climbed into the hot tub, his eyes on Jisung. “Your turn.”

Jisung shimmied out of his pants, not as sexily Minho had, but the older boy didn’t seem to mind, his eyes locked on Jisung’s hips. Jisung scrambled into the hot tub, sinking down in the warm water across from Minho. Minho hooked his foot around the back of Jisung’s knee and tugged, “Come over here.”

Jisung didn’t have to be told twice, standing to make his way over to Minho’s side of the hot tub. He didn’t make it too far before Minho grabbed him, Jisung weightless in the water as Minho pulled him into his lap.

“Hi,” Minho kept one hand on the dip of Jisung’s waist and raised the other one to his face, pushing Jisung’s dark hair behind his ear before trailing it down to curve around his neck.

“Hi,” Jisung breathed back, his arms draping Minho’s shoulders and crossing behind the older boy’s neck. “Your fancy pudding arrived.”

“I saw,” Minho hummed, the fingers on Jisung’s neck rubbing softly, his heavy lidded eyes not breaking contact with Jisung’s. There was barely any space between them, and it wouldn’t take much for Jisung to lean in and close the gap. But he had a question before he did.

“Do you actually like me? Or are you just lonely?”

“Huh?” Minho blinked, his gaze returning to normal as he tilted his head at Jisung. “Of course I like you.”

“Just making sure. Since you didn’t like the last guy you dated.”

“Because he wasn’t you.” Minho’s skin was flushed, though Jisung wasn’t sure if it was from the hot water or what he’d just confessed. “I, um, Bin talks about you a lot. I don’t know if he even remembers this, but he got really drunk one night. And really sad. About how great you are and how upset he was that none of your relationships work out the way you want them to. He showed me a picture of you, just briefly, and well…” Now Minho was definitely blushing, “You’re really attractive. Plus all the other stuff Bin had told me about you, I kind of had a crush on you without ever meeting you.”

Minho’s hold on Jisung had loosened, as if he thought Jisung would want to pull away from him, but Jisung didn’t move, just threaded his fingers into the hair at the base of Minho’s neck and hummed for him to keep going.

“I waited a few days and then asked him if he had anyone he could set me up with. I know I should have just accepted one of his invitations to hang out as a group and actually meet you, but I’m not really great with group stuff and I knew I’d be extra nervous and maybe you wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I thought, since he’d just mentioned your bad luck with relationships, that maybe he would try to set me up with you. And he did. But when you said no, he worked really hard to find me someone else, and I didn’t want to admit that I was only interested in you, so I agreed to go on a few dates. It wasn’t supposed to go beyond that, but it was nice having someone to spend time with, and you weren’t available anyway, so…yeah. I was starting to think maybe I was ready to take things to the next level when he broke up with me.” 

There was a faraway look in Minho’s eyes, a detachment that Jisung had seen every time he spoke about his ex, “Basically he said he’d only been dating me to screw around, and I wasn’t putting out, so he didn’t want to waste anymore time. And I was already having a shitty day. So that hurt. A lot.

“But then, you were here. I don’t know if I would have been brave enough to come over if everything wasn’t already fucked. But it was and I didn’t really have anything else to lose. You’d already rejected me once, I wasn’t expecting anything. I definitely wasn’t expecting this,” Minho’s eyes dropped to where Jisung was perched in his lap, then returned to Jisung’s face. “I'm still not fully convinced this is real.”

“Will this convince you?” Jisung removed his hands from where they were tangled in Minho’s hair, bringing them down to cup his jaw gently, his thumbs swiping across Minho’s warm cheeks. The other boy was staring at him, lips slightly parted, and Jisung couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned in, the water of the hot tub bubbling between them, and pressed his lips to Minho’s. 

The arm around Jisung’s waist immediately tightened, pulling him in as Jisung gripped Minho’s jaw and surged forwards, deepening the kiss. Minho’s mouth opened easily for him and Jisung tilted Minho’s jaw up, their chests flush together as their lips met again, and again, and again. Jisung wasn’t sure if the heat pooling in his stomach was because of how long they’d been in the hot tub, or because of the way Minho’s hand was running up and down his back. 

“You have such a pretty mouth,” Jisung murmured against it, trying to lick his way back in as Minho smiled.

Jisung whined, pulling back and mushing Minho’s cheeks, hoping to school his features back into a neutral position. That just made Minho grin brighter, his eyes dancing as he stared at the boy in his lap. 

“I love your smile but not now,” Jisung smushed his cheeks again, trying to get Minho’s lips to relax. “Can’t kiss if you’re smiling.”

“You make me smile a lot.”

“Good,” Jisung had given up on Minho’s mouth and began peppering kisses across his face and neck instead, lingering on a spot below his ear that had Minho’s fingers curling against Jisung’s back. “I want to make you happy. I want you to always be smiling.”

“Except now.”

Jisung removed his lips from Minho’s neck and nodded solemnly, “Except now. This is our only chance to make out in a hot tub. We have to take advantage.”

“I’m sure Bin would be happy to let us make out in the hot tub whenever we want. He’d probably encourage it, actually.”

“He’s going to be so excited,” Jisung trailed his fingers softly down Minho’s neck, settling his arms over the older boy’s shoulders as he leaned in, Minho’s mouth soft against his. 

The heat from the earlier kiss had cooled, and the hot tub jets were no longer bubbling, but every inch of Jisung was still on fire. 

-

Minho and Jisung were in the middle of a very physical goodbye on Minho’s front step when Changbin arrived home the next morning, the two boys breaking apart at his scream.

“I knew it! I knew it!”

Minho’s hands slipped into the back pockets of Jisung’s jeans, rocking the smaller boy lightly as he rested his chin on Jisung’s shoulder and addressed his neighbor, “Welcome home, Binnie.”

“Did you guys fuck in the hot tub?”

“No!” Jisung removed one of his hands from Minho’s waist to give Changbin the finger, immediately returning it when Changbin barked out a laugh.

“That’s a shame.”

“See,” Minho murmured, his lips ghosting over Jisung’s ear, “I told you he wouldn’t care if we had our dicks out in the hot tub.”

[vminni]

Lee Minho: Boyfriend For Hire

Jisung had made a mistake.

Not current Jisung. Cocky, 18 year old Jisung who thought that the fact that he was the only one in their friend group who’d never been in a relationship was a fluke. But current Jisung, 23, decidedly less cocky but definitely just a single, was the one who was going to pay.

Unless he got a boyfriend by the time their 5 year high school reunion rolled around. 

Jisung scrolled through the listings he had pulled up on a private browser, glancing through the boyfriend for hire ads. Seungmin wasn’t stupid, Jisung couldn’t just show up to the reunion with a conveniently timed relationship. He had to make it believable. He had eight months to build something that wouldn’t make Seungmin bat an eye.

Changbin was aware of Jisung’s plan, the only one of his friends who wasn’t a part of his high school friend group and therefore the only one trusted with this information. Jisung had asked if he had any single friends who would be willing to be part of Jisung’s long con, but Changbin had just told him he was insane and he should work on finding a real boyfriend with that timeline.

“If I could find a real boyfriend, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Jisung groaned, throwing himself backwards on Changbin’s bed. He was attractive enough, and extremely lovable if he did say so himself, so he wasn’t sure why he’d been so painfully single for his entire life. He’d gone on dates, but nothing seemed to stick, a third date the furthest he’d ever made it.

“Sorry, man,” Changbin shrugged. “Take it to Tinder or something.”

Jisung would have, but Felix and Hyunjin were on all the apps, and he couldn’t risk them seeing. He didn’t know where their loyalties lay.

Jisung instead had taken it to a part of the internet he didn’t even know existed, but judging by the amount of people offering their services, there was a market for this sort of thing. The only problem was everyone seemed to be hireable by event, or maybe for the day, a weekend at most. But eight months?

Jisung shot out a few messages anyway, immediately being rejected by everyone he reached out to, until a listing caught his eye.

Lee Minho, 24, commissions welcome.

That was interesting. Jisung clicked onto his profile and was greeted by one of the prettiest faces he’d ever seen. Of course he was a fake boyfriend for a living, he fit the boyfriend vibe perfectly. Oversized cardigans, soft bangs, a smile that would charm even the most homophobic of parents.

Jisung’s fingers were flying across the keys without a second thought, sending him a longer and more in depth message than any of the others he’d reached out to. He explained his situation, the bet and its consequences (Streaking the high school reunion. Jisung was not letting their entire graduating class see his dick). He told Minho about Seungmin, and how he wouldn’t believe it if Jisung just started mentioning a boyfriend a month or two before the reunion. It wouldn’t be much, he told him, just meeting up twice a month or so to take photos for Instagram and maybe meeting up with Jisung’s friends that lived in the area once in a while to actually make it believable. He knew he was rambling, giving Minho way too much detail for someone who hadn’t agreed yet, but Jisung knew he was his only shot. He offered to pay him double, just to be safe. He wasn’t sure how he’d afford it, but for his dignity, he had to.

Minho replied instantly.

A time, an address and an invite to meet for coffee to discuss the timeline in person the next day.

-

Jisung knew that he was paying Minho, so what he looked like didn’t really matter, but he still wanted to look nice for his first meeting with his (fake) boyfriend. He settled on a cream colored sweater underneath his favorite leather jacket, black pants that hugged his legs in all the right places and a pair of thick soled boots to make himself look a tiny bit taller. A beanie was tugged over his ears to protect from the early October chill. He was probably overdue for a haircut, his dark hair curling out from under the hat. He’d carefully selected his jewelry, two rings for each hand and a silver bracelet around his right wrist, a small silver cross around his neck, a sword dangling from his left ear and hoops in his other piercings. He’d thought about throwing on some eyeliner, but they were meeting at a coffee shop, not the club. His bare face should be satisfactory enough.

Jisung pushed into the moderately crowded shop, his eyes finding Minho immediately. His breath caught slightly. The older boy was even more stunning in person, looking every part the desirable boyfriend in a denim jacket over a neat white shirt. His pouty lips were wrapped around the straw of his drink and he was scrolling through his phone, his eyes occasionally darting towards the door.

They landed on Jisung and widened, Minho immediately tearing his gaze away as his ears flushed. Jisung wondered if he should go over, but Minho already had a drink and Jisung was dying for caffeine, so he headed towards the line.

He felt a heavy stare on his back and he snuck another glance at Minho, meeting his eyes once again. This time, Minho didn’t remove his gaze, running it instead up and down Jisung’s body. Jisung felt exposed and he turned back towards the counter, wondering why Minho was sizing him up like that. Was he disappointed in Jisung’s looks?

Jisung snuck a third glance at him and saw that Minho was scribbling something on a napkin, his teeth pressed into his bottom lip in concentration. He glanced up again at Jisung’s stare, his ears burning red again. He shoved the napkin under his phone and looked away.

It was finally Jisung’s turn at the front of the queue, so he turned his thoughts away from Minho and focused on the barista, placing his drink order and stepping to the side. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through some random apps, waiting until his drink was ready. Maybe Minho was staring at him because he thought Jisung was rude for not going to say hi first. 

Drink finally in hand, Jisung wove his way through the coffee shop, stopping by the table Minho was occupying and beginning to pull out the empty seat across from him.

Minho blinked at him, eyelids fluttering in confusion as Jisung dropped down into the chair, “Hey.”

“Um, h-hi,” Minho’s voice broke on the greeting and he flushed, his eyes not meeting Jisung’s.

“Were you waiting long?” Jisung should probably get the apology for keeping him waiting out of the way first, in case Minho was ticked off by his rudeness.

“Was I waiting long?” Minho’s brows furrowed for a second before his eyes opened wide and his voice rose, disbelief high in his tone, “You’re Jisung?”

Oh yeah. Minho hadn’t seen a photo of him. Jisung had completely forgotten about that detail.

“Unfortunately. Were you expecting someone else?”

“Based on your situation, I was expecting someone…less easy on the eyes,” Minho’s ears burned as he said it. “I’m sorry. This is a weird start.” He shook his head slightly, as if admonishing himself, then thrust out a hand, “Lee Minho, boyfriend for hire. Nice to meet you.”

“Han Jisung. Woefully single. Likewise.” Jisung took his hand, noting it was just the tiniest bit smaller than his own, soft and pretty. “How, um, how does this normally work?”

“Normally I’m just hired for a specific event. Work parties where they don’t want to go alone, boyfriend for a lesbian with homophobic parents who needs someone to come home with her for the holidays, sometimes just to go on a date or two for fun. It’s more of a companionship thing than an actual fake relationship. Which is why your proposal was so interesting. I’ve never done a long con before.”

Of course Jisung’s request was weird. He’d known it had been, but he still felt a little stupid hearing what Minho’s usual services were used for. 

“I’m excited though! I’m definitely in. I know you said the reunion is in 8 months, on June 15th.” Minho grabbed his phone, the folded napkin that Jisung had seen him writing on earlier shifting as he pulled up his calendar, “I already have that day marked down, that’s perfect. Are there any other specific days you know you’ll need me? Birthday? Christmas? Valentine’s Day?”

Jisung honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead, but he didn’t want to steal Minho from his actual family and friends, so he shook his head, “My birthday was last month. And you can leave the other holidays open, I go to my parent’s for Christmas and I don’t want them to get their hopes up about me actually having a boyfriend. They aren’t on social media so they won’t see any of the posts. That’s honestly mostly what I’m focused on. Seungmin doesn’t live here, so we won’t have to deal with him in person until the reunion, but he’ll be suspicious if he never sees any indication of you beforehand. So I was thinking we could do like a date or two a month, just to take some pictures, and maybe you come to dinner or the bar with my friends that do live here. Pop up in the back of a Facetime call with Seungmin. Quick easy stuff like that. I won’t steal your holidays.”

Minho’s fingers were flying across his phone, clearly taking notes as Jisung spoke, “Okay, that seems reasonable. I think we should do Valentine’s Day though. It won’t be believable if your boyfriend is MIA for the one holiday that’s about love.”

Jisung nodded and Minho typed something else before locking his phone and setting it back on the table, reaching for his drink. There was just one thing Jisung was worried about, “Um, I know you charge by the hour. And I know I said I would pay double. I will. I really appreciate you giving up so much of your time for me. But I might need to do a payment plan or something.”

Minho waved his hand, a little too casual for Jisung, “We can worry about that later.”

Jisung was worried about it now, but he really didn’t have an option. There was only one final thing to discuss then.

“I was thinking about how we should meet. I can’t just tell my friends you approached me in real life because they would never believe it and they know I would never go up to anyone, so I think we need to fake meeting each other while they’re around. We’re going out to the bar tonight if you’re free. If you’re not, we can figure out another day.”

Minho looked confused, “Why wouldn’t they believe I approached you?”

“You’re way out of my league,” Jisung said simply, taking a sip of his drink as Minho gaped at him.

“That’s not true at all.”

“It is,” Jisung knew he wasn’t bad looking by any means, but Minho was literal perfection.

Minho blinked, once, twice, then seemingly came to a decision and reached for the napkin he’d written on earlier, sliding it still folded across to Jisung. Jisung gave him a confused look, but picked it up and unfolded it, reading the scrawled writing.

I never shoot my shot, but I’ve also never seen anyone as gorgeous as you

It was followed by Minho’s name and his phone number and Jisung’s head shot up in surprise, his eyes wide. Minho was blushing deeply and Jisung grinned, “Oh my god, this is perfect! I’ll send a picture of this to the group chat. I’ll cross out your number, don’t worry, and say I got hit on at the coffee shop. They’ll all freak out and I’ll say you were too hot so I’m not going to text you and then you just so happen to run into us at the bar tonight. This is so perfect, Minho!”

Minho looked slightly disappointed, which Jisung didn’t understand, but he nodded, “Um, yeah, I’m free tonight. Just text me the info.” He gestured to the napkin, “You have my number now.”

“Wait, can I take a blurry photo of you as you’re leaving? We can really sell this.”

“Sure,” Minho stood and Jisung took a few photos of him as he walked out, and a few more as he walked past the window. Then he stopped and turned around, coming back into the shop and peering over Jisung’s shoulders to look at his work.

“That one’s perfect,” Minho’s breath was warm on Jisung’s neck and he shivered at the proximity, gazing down at the photo Minho was pointing to. It was one of the ones taken through the window, just blurry enough that Minho’s face was a little bit of a mystery, his head turned just slightly so his face was mostly in profile. “That looks real.”

Jisung was excited now and he hastily sent the photo of Minho and a photo of his note in his group text with his friends, attached to a simple message of a keyboard smash and a ‘ what the fuck!?!?!?! ’

The chat immediately blew up and Jisung turned to Minho with a smile, startling slightly at their proximity. Minho was still leaning over him, and the twist of Jisung’s head left them in a perfect kissing position. Jisung briefly found himself wondering if Minho would charge extra for kissing, if that was even something he offered. Then he felt stupid for even thinking about it. He turned his head back, his cheeks lightly flushed, and beamed down at his phone.

“Mission start: success.”

-

“You should text him, Sungie,” Felix was three drinks in, his speech a little slurred as he reached across the table towards Jisung, his voice earnest. “He looked really cute.”

“That’s the problem,” Jisung swirled his drink around his glass, hoping none of his friends noticed that he was drinking less than normal today. He was a little nervous, not sure when Minho was going to appear, and he didn’t want to be drunk whenever it happened. Jisung knew he was going to be paying Minho, so he probably wouldn’t bail right away, but Jisung didn’t want to put anything in jeopardy by accidentally drunkenly telling Minho that he hadn’t thought about anything but his lips since they’d left the coffee shop that morning. “He’s too pretty for me.”

Felix looked extremely offended at that statement, reaching across the table to squish Jisung’s cheeks with his clammy palms, “No one is too pretty for my Jisungie! You’re the prettiest!”

“Says the literal angel,” Jisung mumbled.

“He approached you,” Jeongin was sober, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in his chair, the designated driver for the night. “He complimented you. He doesn’t think he’s out of your league.”

“I know,” Jisung sighed and downed the rest of his drink, the sound of his empty glass hitting the table loud even in the crowded bar. “I just…it never works out. Why would this be any different?”

“You won’t know if you never try,” Hyunjin shrugged. “It never works out for me either and I’m still trying.”

“Or me!” Felix hiccuped.

That was true. Both his friends were single as well. But they’d had relationships in the past. Jisung was the only one who’d been single for life.

“I’ll think about it,” he offered, bracing his hands against the table to stand. “Anyone want another drink?”

Both Felix and Hyunjin chorused yeses and as Jisung stood from the table and turned around, he bumped into a solid body. A very delicious smelling body.

“Oh, shit, I’m sor…” Jisung’s voice trailed off and his eyes widened, immediately turning back to the table and planting himself in his seat again as Felix’s eyes lit up with recognition.

Minho laughed, “Well look who it is.” Jisung could hear the pout on his voice, even though he wasn’t looking at him. He could imagine Minho’s glossed lips tugging down, “You didn’t text me.”

Jisung knew Minho was going to be here. He knew Minho was going to come over and flirt with him. He knew Minho was going to try to pick him up.

He didn’t know Minho was going to be dolled up in glitter and a half unbuttoned black silk shirt, with leather pants that clung to his delectable thighs in a way that was too much for even not-so-tipsy Jisung to handle. 

“Jisung! It’s your man!” Felix was way too loud and way too excited for Jisung’s liking, and he shot his hand across the table to cover his best friend’s mouth, keeping it there even as Felix licked him. He still hadn’t looked back at Minho, but this time, his tone was laced with a very obvious smirk.

“Jisung, is it? So you’ve told your friends about me?”

“The picture didn’t do you justice,” Jisung’s eyes flicked to Jeongin as he spoke, and that was a smirk he could see, that little shit. “You’re ridiculously hotter in person.”

Jisung’s other hand shot out to cover Jeongin’s mouth, but he was not as easily defeated as drunk Felix. He ducked out of the way, evading Jisung’s clutches.

“You took a picture of me?”

Jisung stayed silent. Hyunjin pulled out his phone and proudly showed it to Minho.

“I literally hate all of you,” Jisung groaned. He wasn’t faking his embarrassment, even though Minho knew everything they were saying. Maybe he’d found his calling. Maybe he could be a method actor.

“I think you owe me a dance.”

His friends whooped and Jisung wasn’t given much of a choice, Minho hooking a foot around the leg of Jisung’s stool and pulling him away from the table and his grip on Felix. Jisung stood carefully, making sure to keep his eyes on Minho’s torso and above, though the peek of his chest and collarbones was not doing good things to Jisung’s heart. But it was better than what Minho’s thighs were doing to his dick. 

Minho wrapped his fingers around Jisung’s wrist and led him out to the dance floor, dropping his arm in favor of placing his hands on his bare waist when they got out there. Jisung draped his arms loosely over Minho’s shoulder, making sure their bodies weren’t touching anywhere else.

Minho glanced down at the space between them and scoffed, “What is this? A middle school dance? No touching allowed?” His hands dropped to Jisung’s ass, tugging him forward and pressing their bodies together, “Much better.”

Even though they were on the other side of the very loud room, Jisung swore he heard Felix scream when Minho groped him.

“Is ass grabbing going to cost me extra?” Jisung tried to joke, his voice thick. Yes, it was pretend, but Minho was very hot and very close to parts of Jisung’s body that hadn’t been touched by another person in ages. Every nerve was on edge.

“Nah, you get a discount for that,” Minho winked. “But I apologize if it was too much.”

“No, it’s, uh, it’s fine,” Jisung swallowed. “I just…no one’s touched me there in a long time. So I’m sorry if…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“I don’t care if you get hard.”

“Okay. That’s good.” It would have been uncomfortable if it was problem, because Jisung was already halfway there, and Minho hadn’t even started dancing with him yet. They were just standing, Minho’s hands still on his ass and Jisung’s arms now awkwardly looped around his neck. “You look really nice,” he blurted, then flushed. 

Minho grinned at him, “Thank you. I tried. You look nice too.”

Jisung had also tried. He’d let Felix do his makeup, much to his best friend’s delight, and his skin was glowy and dewey, his eyes thick with eyeliner and a hint of mascara. His lips weren’t shimmery and glossed like Minho’s, but he’d put on a few extra layers of Chapstick, just in case. He was wearing the same boots and pants from earlier in the day, but he’d traded his sweater for a thick long sleeved shirt that was cropped just enough to show off a smooth hint of honey skin at his waist. 

“Thanks.”

“We look kind of dumb just standing here,” Minho breathed out a laugh, his eyes sparking under the dim bar lights. “So I’m going to grind on you now, if that’s okay.”

“I, uh,” Jisung’s brain was short circuiting. He’d known this was a possibility when he’d invited Minho out tonight, but reality was proving to be a lot for his poor gay heart to handle. It was fake, he reminded himself. He was paying Minho. God, how pathetic was he that he had to pay someone to want to grind on him? He swallowed, “Yeah. Fine.”

What few working brain cells Jisung had left completely abandoned him as Minho’s hips rolled against his, the older boy tilting his head back and offering Jisung a perfect view of the smooth unmarked skin of his neck. If this were real, a real man in a real bar who actually wanted Jisung, his lips would be there already, marking and kissing and claiming his space. But Jisung didn’t know the rules. He wished they’d discussed boundaries earlier at the coffee shop, but he hadn’t thought about it. He’d just been so excited that Minho was into the idea.

“You have to move too,” Minho huffed, his head no longer tilted and his eyes locked on Jisung. “Dance. Act like you want to be here. Just for a little bit.”

“I do want to be here,” Jisung tentatively rolled his own hips, but he wasn’t as coordinated as Minho. His hands dragged down Minho’s chest, roaming over his pecs and down to his stomach before making their way back up. “Gay panic is very on brand for me though. They’re not going to be suspicious because I freaked out when you touched my butt.”

“What’s the plan from here?” One of Minho’s hands was still on his ass, but the other had returned to the small strip of skin that was exposed in the gap between his pants and shirt, the skin on skin contact electrifying. “Are you coming home with me?”

Jisung had found a better rhythm with his hips now, and he was enjoying letting his hands explore Minho’s torso, the older boy clearly not bothered by the touching. Jisung fiddled with the silver chain around Minho’s neck when his fingers made it there, nodding, “I think they’d kill me if I didn’t.”

Minho spun Jisung around suddenly, the hand that was on his ass slipping to run up and down Jisung’s thigh as Minho’s hips rolled against him, their tempo a little quicker now, “You were wrong. About them not believing I would hit on you.”

“Y-yeah,” Jisung stuttered out his answer, his uncoordinated arms trying to wrap themselves around Minho’s neck as the older boy breathed against him. “Guess that was my own self-confidence talking.”

“You’re so gorgeous.” Jisung could feel Minho’s lips on the base of his neck now and he shuttered, his eyes snapping closed as the older boy pressed a kiss there, open mouthed and searing. “We definitely need to work on your sexy dancing though.”

“Shut up,” Jisung knew he was blushing, grateful that Minho was behind him. “I’m inexperienced.”

“I can help with that,” Minho pressed a few more kisses to his neck, working up towards his jaw, and Jisung saw stars. His hips were still pressing against Jisung’s ass and he was shocked to feel that he wasn’t the only one affected by what they were doing. Even if he was a shitty dancer.

“You’re still turned on,” Jisung heard the smugness in his own voice and Minho laughed, but it sounded more vulnerable than before. His hips shifted away, no longer touching Jisung.

“Sorry.”

Jisung spun back around so they were face to face again, his arms returning to the safety of Minho’s shoulders, “I wasn’t complaining. I was gloating.”

Minho’s smile was crooked, a little bit shy, and Jisung smiled back at him, his gaze soft.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Minho tilted his head slightly, gesturing towards the door.

Jisung nodded, “You can drop me off at my friend Changbin’s apartment. I live with Felix so I can’t go home if we’re pretending to leave together.”

It must have been the lighting of the bar, because Jisung didn’t understand why else Minho’s face would fall the way it did. His features were normal the next time Jisung blinked, “Okay. I mean, you’re welcome to actually come to my apartment. If you’re comfortable with that. Or I can bring you to your friend’s house. Whatever.”

Jisung knew nothing would happen if they went back to Minho’s place. He was desperate, but not desperate enough to pay for sex. But it would give them the perfect opportunity to discuss their next move. And their boundaries. 

“I trust you. I’ll go back to your place.”

“Okay, cool. Do you want to tell your friends?”

Jisung took Minho’s wrist in his hand and tugged him towards the table where his friends were still seated, more empty glasses surrounding them then there were when Jisung had left.

“Sunggie!” Felix’s words were even more slurred, and his eyes were barely focused. “Are you gonna get laid?”

Jisung blushed as Minho’s arms wrapped around him from behind, the older boy’s chin hooking over his shoulder as he answered Felix in a smug voice, “He is.”

Felix looked like he might cry and Jisung winced slightly. Was he really that pathetic that his best friend was tearing up at the thought of him finally getting some?

“Jisung is the bestest ever,” Felix was looking at Minho, his voice stern despite the tears that had started to roll down his cheeks. “So you better treat him that way.”

“I will,” Minho promised, pressing a quick kiss to Jisung’s flushed face. “He’s in good hands, I swear.”

“I should probably be getting Felix home before he starts fully sobbing.” Jeongin stood up from his seat, nodding towards Minho, “But, um, ditto to what he said.”

“Guys…”

“I’ll take care of him.” Minho rocked Jisung back and forth slightly, his breath warm against Jisung’s neck and smelling vaguely of mint. “We’re going to head out. It was nice meeting you all.”

“You too,” Hyunjin offered. He wasn’t as far gone as Felix, but he was blinking a little dazedly. “Jisung likes to be manhandled. Shove him against the wall and he’ll do whatever you want.”

“Hyunjin, shut up !”

“What? I’m helping. It’s been a long time since you got some dick. I want you to enjoy it.”

“I hate you all,” Jisung tore out of Minho’s hold and turned, grabbing the older boy by the hand and pulling him towards the door as he used his other hand to flip off his friends. He could hear Minho laughing quietly as he tugged him along, but he couldn’t look at the other boy yet. He was way too embarrassed.

“They’re fun. I like them.”

“They’re the worst people to ever walk the planet.” He was paying Minho to pretend to be his boyfriend because he couldn’t get a real one. Minho already knew he was struggling in the love department. But it was still embarrassing to have his friends lay it out like that. What if Minho did actually want to take him home for real? That would have totally ruined it. “Please just ignore everything they said.”

They were outside the bar now, a shiver working its way up Jisung’s spine as they stepped into the October night. He could hear the low murmur of smokers around the corner, but there was no one out in the front of the bar. No one to witness as Minho grabbed him and pressed him against the wall, his thigh squarely between Jisung’s own and his smirk deadly as his hands bracketed Jisung’s head. Jisung gasped, his neck exposed and his eyes going half lidded as Minho purred, “I think Hyunjin was right.”

The pressure of Minho’s glorious thigh against his crotch and the heat of his body nearly had Jisung finishing right there, and it took his last shred of dignity to push Minho away, tearing off down the street.

“Shit.”

He heard Minho curse and the sound of his hurried footsteps following him, but Jisung just picked up his pace and kept going. He wasn’t sure where he was going, or why there was suddenly the hot press of tears behind his eyes, but he felt so stupid and exposed. Minho had seemed nice in the morning. Why was he fucking with Jisung so much now?

“Jisung! I’m sorry!”

Jisung didn’t slow down, brushing angrily at his cheeks as the tears began to spill. He could hear Minho gaining on him even as he picked up his pace, and soon enough the older boy had caught up to him, gasping for breath as he cut Jisung off.

“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Minho noticed his tears and he cursed again, patting at his pockets as he looked for something to offer Jisung. He couldn’t come up with anything, so he tugged the sleeve of his shirt down over his hand and gently patted at Jisung’s cheeks, his own face devastated. “I forgot it was fake. I wasn’t trying to mess with you or embarrass you. I’m so sorry. Please at least let me drive you home.”

Minho sounded sincere, and he was getting Jisung’s snot all over his pretty shirt without complaint, so Jisung sniffled and forgave him, weakly telling Minho he still wanted to go over to his house. They needed to have a discussion about boundaries immediately.

Minho looked relieved, and he offered Jisung his hand, waiting for the younger boy to decide if he wanted to take it or not. Jisung knew his friends would probably be exiting the bar soon, so he accepted it, letting Minho tangle their fingers loosely together. 

“I’m sorry. Really. I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t have done any of the things I did tonight.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung hiccuped. He’d been enjoying it. That was the problem. “You’re a good actor.”

There was that look again, Minho’s face falling just for the briefest of seconds before his features schooled back to neutral. Jisung was too spent to read into it. He just wanted to go to sleep now. 

They arrived at Minho’s car and he released Jisung’s hand in order to grab the handle on the passenger side door, opening it and letting his fingers graze the small of Jisung’s back as he guided him into the car. Once Jisung was safely inside, he closed the door gently and made his way around to the driver’s side as Jisung stared blankly out the window. Minho’s car smelled nice, a spice woodsy tone that complimented the cologne he was wearing, and Jisung watched him wince as he entered and smelt how strong it was.

“Sorry, I, uh, put my cologne on in the car. Must have sprayed too much.”

“It smells nice,” Jisung mumbled. It did. It smelt better on Minho, where it mixed with his natural scent, but it was still pleasant in the air. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you,” Minho’s voice was soft as he started the car, glancing over at Jisung once more. Jisung could feel his stare, but he didn’t turn, instead dropping his head to cradle against the seatbelt as he closed his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at your friend’s house? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again.”

“It’s fine,” Jisung mumbled, his voice already growing thick. “Your apology has been accepted.”

“Okay,” Minho adjusted some dials and Jisung felt a warmth under his butt, the seat heating up as Minho put the car in drive. Minho fiddled with the radio, but he kept the volume low, not wanting to disturb Jisung. Jisung could feel his eyes on him occasionally, but he kept his own shut, still embarrassed from the events that had transpired. Not only was he a pathetic loser who couldn’t find anyone who wanted to date or fuck him, he cried when someone got close to his dick for the first time in over a year. He might need to pay Minho triple after this.

“Jisung.” There was a tentative hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly and Jisung startled, his eyes fluttering open as he sat up. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep and he blinked his heavy eyelids, Minho’s pretty face blurry to his unfocused eyes.

“Sorry,” he slurred, unbuckling his seat belt and swinging his legs out of the car, Minho stepping back to let him exit. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay,” Minho had one hand on the passenger side door and the other one reached for Jisung, but Jisung stood on his own, ignoring the offer. Minho’s hand dropped and Jisung stepped away, allowing Minho to close the door. Minho had come into focus now, and he was looking at Jisung like he wanted to say something else, but he bit down on his bottom lip and turned, heading across the parking lot towards his apartment building.

Jisung trailed behind, close but not close enough to smell Minho’s intoxicating cologne or feel the warmth of his body. He kept his eyes on his own feet after sneaking a quick peek at Minho’s ass, not wanting to be caught staring. Looking like that, Minho should have actually been going home with someone. Jisung felt kind of bad for denying him that, even though he had been at the bar specifically for Jisung’s plan. Still, it was a shame that hotness was being wasted on Jisung.

Minho was holding the door open for him and as Jisung slipped inside, he felt the briefest of touches on his bare skin again, Minho’s hand guiding his back. The touch was already becoming familiar, and that was a dangerous game. Jisung reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged, trying to pull the fabric down to cover his exposed skin. In the lobby mirror, he saw Minho’s face twist into something sad.

They entered the elevator in silence, Minho pressing the button for the third floor and leaning back against the wall, keeping an ocean of space between them this time. Jisung settled into his corner, tugging out his phone to see all the encouraging texts his friends had sent since they left the bar. He shoved it back in his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest, not missing the way it lifted his shirt again and drew Minho’s eyes.

The elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open and Jisung exited first, pausing once he was outside. He didn’t know which way to turn, so he waited for Minho to step out, the other boy’s gaze heavy on Jisung’s side. Jisung shot him a questioning look and Minho flushed, paused in front of the now closed elevator doors.

“I didn’t notice the tattoo earlier.”

“Oh.” Jisung glanced down at his own side, where the smallest peek of Gothic letters darkened his skin. “I have four.”

“It looks nice,” Minho took off down the hallway, Jisung hurrying to keep pace with him as he huffed out a tiny laugh.

“You can’t even see it.”

“Okay, well then, I imagine it looks nice.” He stopped in front of his apartment door, his ears red and his fingers fumbling with his keys. Jisung waited behind him, rocking back on the thick heels of his boots as Minho finally shoved the key in the lock and let them in.

Both boys shed their shoes and Minho gave him a quick tour before informing Jisung that he was going to change into something more comfortable and disappearing into his bedroom. Jisung dropped down onto the couch, his eyes flicking around the space. The apartment was small but cozy, neatly decorated in grays and whites. There was just enough out of place to make it looked lived in; a coaster with a glass half full of water on the coffee table, a poorly folded blanket draped over the arm of the couch, the remote askew on the tv stand.

“Here,” Minho was back, his sexy outfit replaced with a baggy sweatpants and hoodie combo, the hood pulled over his dark hair and shadowing his face. He hadn’t taken the makeup off yet, the glitter under his eyes glinting in the artificial glow of the living room. He looked even prettier than he had in the dim lighting of the bar and Jisung admired him for just a few seconds too long, long enough for Minho to shift awkwardly, the bundle of clothes in his hands dropping slightly.

“Sorry,” Jisung reached out and took what the older boy was offering, hugging the fabric to his chest. “I was just…your makeup looks really good.” “Thank you. I like yours too.”

“Felix did it,” Jisung unfolded the sweatshirt Minho had given him and stood, not thinking as he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. The noise that Minho let out was inhuman and both boys froze, Minho’s hands clamped over his mouth as he stared at Jisung with wide, horrified eyes.

Jisung glanced down at his own bare torso, but he didn’t see what could have caused Minho to make that noise. His body was nice enough, with defined arms and pecs and a slim waist, and he knew his tattoos looked good, but it was just his body. Nothing special.

He glanced back at Minho and saw that he was no longer staring at Jisung’s face in horror, his eyes were roaming hungrily across Jisung’s exposed skin, his ears so red they looked ready to burst into flames. The longer Jisung went without covering himself back up, the bolder Minho’s gaze got.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

“What?” Jisung blinked, his shirt still dangling limply from his hand. There was no game to be played here, no friends to trick, so why was Minho staring at him like he wanted to devour him?

Jisung dropped his shirt and grabbed the sweatshirt, tugging it over his head. The scent of Minho’s cologne surrounded him as it settled over his torso, and when he pushed the hood down and ran a hand through his messy hair, he saw that Minho was no longer looking at him. 

“Do you want a pair of sweatpants too?”

“I’m not taking my pants off in front of you,” Jisung joked, though it fell flat, Minho’s eyes flicking to his once before dancing away. “But, um, yeah. If you’re offering.”

Minho nodded and slipped out of the room, returning with the sweatpants and a gesture towards the bathroom. Jisung hurried over, tugging off his pants once the door was closed and pulling on Minho’s. He glanced at himself in the mirror, cursing when he noticed how smeared his eyeliner and mascara were from his earlier tears. He scrubbed harshly at his face with the sleeve of Minho’s sweatshirt, then dropped it when he remembered he’d already ruined one piece of Minho’s clothing tonight. He cracked open the bathroom door and stuck his head out, calling out for Minho.

“Everything okay?”

“Do you have any makeup remover?”

“Oh, yeah, in my bathroom.”

Jisung exited the guest bathroom and padded down the hall, following Minho into his bedroom. He kept his eyes on the other boy’s back, though his curiosity to see his room was strong. But it felt like a violation, for some reason, so he kept his gaze steady until they entered the bathroom.

Minho gestured for Jisung to take a seat on the toilet so he did so, watching with hazy eyes as Minho began digging around in his cabinets, removing more than a few bottles. Jisung watched as he lined them up; makeup remover, toner, serum, moisturizer. He set them carefully on the counter, then grabbed a cotton pad and began dapping the makeup remover on it. Jisung tilted his head slightly and watched him, wondering what Minho was doing.

The next thing he knew the older boy’s free hand was gentle on Jisung’s chin, turning his face towards him as he carefully wiped the cotton pad under Jisung’s eyes. Jisung thought about protesting, about insisting that he could do it himself, but instead he let his eyelids flutter shut, enjoying the soft touch of Minho’s skin. It was nice to be taken care of, that was all. Jisung wasn’t going to let this get to his head. He wasn’t going to let himself think about what it would be like if it was real, if Minho was someone who would have actually wanted Jisung to come home with him if he wasn’t being paid.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Minho’s voice was light and Jisung felt the damp cotton swipe across his eyelids, his chin still held steady in Minho’s grip. He followed Minho’s instructions, keeping his eyes screwed shut as Minho switched the cotton round out for new one, gently cleaning Jisung’s other eyelid of the smokey shadow Felix had carefully applied.

“You can open.”

Jisung did, watching with a lidded gaze as Minho threw out the used cotton and dabbed some makeup remover on another, swiping it over softly over Jisung’s skin, the fingers of his free hand guiding Jisung’s head to where he wanted it as he made sure every bit of makeup was off. Once he was satisfied with his cleaning job he reached for the toner, dumping it into his own hands before pressing them gently to Jisung’s face. His eyes drifted shut again, his breath hitching as Minho touched him ever so carefully, his hands pressing their way up Jisung’s cheeks. He followed with the serum and the moisturizer and somewhere along the way, Jisung’s fingers tangled in the fabric of Minho’s sweatshirt, holding tight at his hip as Minho finished up the skin care routine.

“All done, baby,” he murmured softly, and Jisung’s eyelids fluttered open, heat high on his cheeks from the pet name. Minho was close, Jisung’s clinging not allowing him to step away, and their eyes met for a heated, poignant moment before Minho tore his gaze away, coughing awkwardly.

“Sorry,” Jisung released him, allowing Minho to step back. He stood up from the toilet lid and shuffled to the side, making room for Minho to sit. But Minho just stared at him, confused. Jisung gestured to the toilet, “Your turn.”

“I can do it myself,” Minho reached for the makeup remover and cotton rounds and Jisung flushed, feeling stupid. Of course he could. Jisung was the one paying for the boyfriend treatment. 

“Oh,” Jisung knew he was blushing deeply and the small bathroom suddenly felt suffocating. He moved towards the door, not saying anything before twisting the knob and slipping outside. He closed it behind him, letting his back fall against it as he took a shuttering breath. It had all felt so real, the way Minho had carefully cared for him. Jisung needed to be careful. It was day one. There was going to be eight months of this. He had to get it together.

He blinked back to focus, his eyes finally taking in Minho’s room. It was simply decorated, just like the living room, not much to give any hint of Minho’s personality except for the stack of books on his nightstand. Jisung wandered over, gaze curious. Some of the books appeared to be mysteries, along with a few cookbooks and a self help book called Attached at the top of the stack. Jisung reached for it, then realized what he was doing and let his hand drop. He snuck a guilty look towards the closed bathroom door and stepped away, moving back towards the safety of the living room. Jisung had just settled back down on the couch when he heard Minho exit the bathroom and he pulled out his phone, busying himself as Minho perched on the edge of the couch next to him.

Jisung glanced up at him, Minho’s hood pushed back and offering Jisung an unrestricted view of his bare face. He had a tiny freckle on the tip of his nose that Jisung hadn’t noticed before and for some reason, it struck Jisung right in the heart. His eyelashes were long and heavy, his cheekbones high and sharp, a contrast to the softness of his chin and mouth. There was a small blemish on the side of his jaw, the temporary imperfection somehow making him even more beautiful, and Jisung knew he was staring. But Minho didn’t seem to mind, blinking lightly at Jisung as the younger boy let his eyes roam unabashedly.

Jisung wondered how many of his other fake dates had fallen for him.

“Was there…do you want to talk about what happens next?”

Oh yeah. That’s why they were here.

Jisung folded his hands in his lap, letting his gaze focus there instead of soft, pretty Minho. It was too hard to think when looking directly at the older boy.

“It needs to seem like more than a hookup. So, um, maybe breakfast tomorrow? I can take a picture of it and post it on my private story. And then you drop me off? If you have time, of course. If not, I’ll get myself home. Then maybe just texting for a few days. I know you have your own life, so I don’t want to take up all your time.” It was a Friday night, and Jisung had been surprised Minho was actually available to show up at the bar, but he didn’t want to take up any more of his weekend than he already was. “Maybe go on a date on Tuesday or Wednesday, if you’re free? We can just do something quick, coffee or drinks or whatever, just long enough to snap a few photos. I can make some shit up to tell my friends about the date, we don’t actually have to hang out.”

“What if I want to?”

“Huh?” Jisung was sure his sleepy brain had misunderstood. He waited for Minho to repeat himself.

“I would like to actually spend time with you,” Minho swallowed, his fingers fiddling with the tie on his sweatpants and his gaze not meeting Jisung’s. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

Jisung himself was fine with that, but he knew his bank account wouldn’t be. He nodded anyway and was rewarded with Minho’s pretty smile, his eyes crinkling happily as he directed the smile towards his own lap. If Jisung had to get a second job to see him smile like that again, then so be it.

They still had the most important thing to talk about though. The awkward conversation. Their boundaries.

Jisung knew there were a million ways he could have broached the topic with more decorum, but instead he settled for a blurted, “Please don’t touch my dick anymore.” Minho tugged his hood back over his head, hiding his burning ears and neck from Jisung. They were close on the couch, though not close enough to touch, but Jisung watched as Minho shifted just a tiny bit further away anyway. 

“Noted.”

“Not that it was bad. It wasn’t,” Jisung wasn’t sure why he was talking, the words tumbling too quickly out of his mouth. “It really, really wasn’t. And that’s the problem. Cause it’s not real and I can get caught up in my head a bit and it’s been so long since anyone was even vaguely interested that I might get confused. So no touching is best. Except when we’re around my friends or else they’ll get suspicious. But just like, hands and waist and shoulders and stuff. Platonic things. No kissing or anything.” Jisung wanted to kiss Minho’s pretty mouth so bad. That rule was for himself. “Unless the situation really calls for it. We can adjust some rules on the fly. But not the dick rule. Um, those are my boundaries. Feel free to share yours.”

Jisung folded his hands in his lap and looked expectantly at Minho.

“What about your butt?”

That wasn’t what Jisung was expecting. Jisung was expecting Minho to tell him where he was okay with being touched. He blinked, then thought about it, “You can touch my butt around my friends. But just like a little tap if you’re being flirty or something. Not lingering.”

“Okay,” Minho nodded, then placed his hands on his knees like he was going to stand. Jisung blinked in confusion as Minho got to his feet.

“Wait. What about you?”

“You can touch me wherever you want. Whenever you want.” Minho wasn’t looking at him. Jisung guessed that made sense. This was Minho’s job. He was used to strangers touching him. “I’ll follow your lead on stuff. I’ll respect what you just told me. I won’t break any of those rules unless you initiate it.”

“Okay, that’s…okay.” Jisung nodded. “Good.”

“I’m sorry about tonight.”

“It’s okay.” They hadn’t established anything before the evening started. Jisung knew what he was getting himself into when he invited Minho to the bar. “Tonight didn’t count.”

“You can have the bed,” Minho was heading towards the hall closet, tugging it open and pulling out an armful of blankets and pillows. “I just washed the sheets today, so everything’s clean. There’s a charger on the bedside table if you need to charge your phone. I’ll sleep out here on the couch. If you need anything just pop out and wake me up, I don’t mind.”

“I’m not stealing your bed,” Jisung shook his head adamantly, crossing to Minho and taking the blankets out of his arms. “You take your room. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ve already been enough of a nuisance.”

“You aren’t a nuisance. You’re my guest,” Minho snatched the blankets back, glaring at Jisung. “You take the bed.”

Jisung understood how ridiculous they were being, but he tugged the blankets away from Minho again anyway, turning his body so Minho couldn’t steal them back without touching Jisung and immediately breaking the rules, “Go to bed, Minho. In your room.”

Minho pouted at him, but Jisung was the master of puppy dog eyes. He was not about to be bested by his own trick. He shook his head, still keeping his body angled away from Minho’s, “Stop pouting at me.” Minho pouted deeper and Jisung laughed, swinging suddenly around as he dropped the blankets and just hung on to one of the pillows, using it to swat at Minho’s head, “Go to your room.”

Minho blocked the shot and caught the edge of the pillowcase, tugging it out of Jisung’s hands and into his own. He swung back and Jisung ducked, snatching up the other pillow and launching himself at the older boy. 

Jisung wasn’t sure how long they’d been at it, but it was long enough for them both to be gasping breathlessly, their laughter too loud for the quiet of the night. Jisung thinks they might have kept going forever, if it wasn’t for the banging of Minho’s neighbor on their shared wall and a hissed request for them to shut the fuck up.

Their eyes met and they collapsed in a fit of giggles, quieter this time, but still uncontrolled. Jisung tipped into Minho, pressing his laughter into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt as Minho dropped his pillow and wrapped his arms around him, holding Jisung as his happiness spilled over. Jisung swore he felt the briefest touch of lips on the top of his head before he pulled back, his mouth still tugged up in a silly smile.

“Go to bed,” Jisung shoved Minho towards his bedroom, his eyes bright in the dim light of the hall. “Or I’ll scream and start a war with your neighbor.”

Minho held his arms up in a truce gesture, taking a few steps backwards towards his room, his own smile still soft and silly, “You win this time. Night, Jisungie.”

Jisung’s heartbeat was stuttering, but there was no way of knowing if it was from the adrenaline of their pillow fight, the beauty of Minho’s smile, or the nickname. Maybe a combination of all three.

“Good night, Minho,” Jisung scooped up the pillows and blankets and retreated to the living room, Minho’s mouth on his mind once again as he drifted towards sleep.

-

Jisung slept well, despite the unfamiliar environment, though he awoke earlier than he normally would on a Saturday. From his spot on the couch he could see that Minho’s bedroom door was still closed and his mind began to wander, his imagination attempting to conjure an image of sleepy Minho.

Which gave him an idea.

Once Jisung had something in his head, it was hard for him to focus on anything else. He knew it was silly to wake Minho up for this, but he had told Jisung it was fine to wake him if he needed something. And Jisung did need something.

He cracked open the door to Minho’s bedroom, peeking his head into the room. Sunlight was streaming through the curtains that Minho had clearly forgotten to close the night before, falling across his sleep softened features. His breathing was steady and even, his hands tucked under his pillow and the curved shape of his body obvious under the covers. He’d switched the sweatshirt he’d been wearing last night for a t-shirt and his sweatpants laid crumpled at the foot of the bed. Jisung thought about retreating and leaving him  alone, but, well, he was really excited about his idea.

“Minho,” he hissed, slipping fully into the room and letting the door shut softly behind him. He crossed to the bed, his hand reaching out to nudge Minho’s shoulder. “Minho, wake up.”

Minho blinked awake, slowly, his long lashes fluttering, eyes still heavy with sleep as they landed on Jisung. Jisung had never been awake early enough to watch the sunrise, but he imagined its beauty was similar to that of Minho blinking into consciousness, his features soft and surreal in the early morning light.

“Is everything okay?” Minho’s voice was thick and raspy, slightly slurred, and he sat up, his hair sticking in strange directions as his blankets pooled around his lap, his eyes barely open but still full of concern. 

“Yeah. I just…” Jisung winced, knowing his request was about to sound stupid. “I wanted to take a photo of you. For the group chat.”

Jisung braced himself, waiting for Minho to kick him out of his room, to tell him he was an idiot, to say nothing and roll over and just go back to sleep. Instead, he nodded, “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome!” Jisung was excited now, and he gestured towards Minho’s bed, explaining his vision. “I was thinking you face away from me. Towards the window. With the covers down around your waist and just pretend to still be sleeping. Easy peasy. But would you mind taking your shirt off?”

Minho was nodding along until Jisung asked him to remove his shirt, faltering for just the briefest of seconds. Jisung noticed and immediately waved his hands in front of his face, berating himself internally for asking, “You can keep your shirt on, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“No, it’s fine. We were supposed to fucking so it’d be weird if I have it on,” Minho fiddled with the hem of his shirt, looking slightly embarrassed. “Could you just…not look? I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jisung scrambled to comply, slapping his hands over his eyes and turning around, his back to Minho.

He heard Minho jostling around, getting comfortable on the bed, until finally, “Okay. You can look now.”

Jisung turned, his hands falling from his eyes, and saw his vision come to life. Except it was so much better than he’d imagined. He let his gaze roam over Minho’s pale skin, the curve of his shoulder, the dip of his waist, the small hint of the waistband of his underwear. Jisung reached out and tugged the sheets up just a tiny bit, trying to make it look like he was completely naked, and then let out a hum. He stepped back, tilting his head this way and that before asking Minho to pull the sheets higher up his chest. He complied, then curled his arms under the pillow when Jisung asked for that as well.

Jisung went to work, snapping a bunch of photos with much less awkwardness than he should probably be feeling. Minho was getting paid for this, he reminded himself. It was his job to look like a boyfriend.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed too?” Jisung was startled from his impromptu photoshoot by Minho’s voice, the older boy rolling over with the blankets still clutched to his chest to blink at Jisung. “I mean, if we slept together. The photos should be from the bed.”

“Huh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Jisung glanced down at his phone, scrolling through what he’d already taken. They were beautiful, the natural light catching the beauty of Minho’s back, but he did have a point. The angles were too…staged.

“You can come in. If you’re comfortable.” Minho lifted the covers slightly, still making sure to keep his torso covered with the sheets. Jisung kind of wanted to ask him what that was about, but this whole morning was already so weird, he didn’t want to make Minho more uncomfortable by bringing up his insecurity. Not that Minho seemed uncomfortable. He was still holding the comforter up for Jisung, who buffered for another second before making a decision and sliding into the bed. 

Minho dropped the blanket and turned back around, adjusting his position back to the way Jisung wanted it for the photo. Jisung sat up and took the photo from above, Minho’s pretty profile now making an appearance. He snapped a few more before deeming them good enough, and slipped back out of the bed. Minho rolled over again, the sheet dipping enough to reveal his chest, and it took everything in Jisung not to stare. He made sure his gaze stayed on Minho’s face as he thanked him.

“No problem,” Minho yawned, throwing an arm over his face. Jisung felt guilty for waking him up, especially when he glanced at the clock on Minho’s bedside table and saw that it was just after 7:30.

“Sorry, you can go back to sleep now.”

“It’s fine,” Minho didn’t move his arm, but it was obvious he was more alert than before, his voice losing the rasp it had held when Jisung first entered the room. “Are you hungry?”

“Not yet. Would it be okay if I took a shower?”

“Sure,” Minho removed his arm from his face and sat up, the sheet slipping down completely as he did so. Jisung’s eyes flicked to his stomach, to the thin scar that stretched across it, and then immediately back up when he’d realized what he’d done. Minho noticed, grabbing the sheet and holding it back up to himself, a blush working its way down his neck and across his chest. 

“It’s not…It doesn’t…” Jisung wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. He wanted to tell Minho he was so beautiful, even with an imperfection, but he felt like he might be overstepping. Minho hadn’t wanted him to see that. He settled on a very eloquent, “You’re hot.”

Jisung winced as soon as he said it. Hot was generic. Hot was for a random guy on the street, or the dude you danced with at the club. Hot wasn’t for Minho. He was beautiful, ethereal, an Impressionist painting come to life, all soft and pretty, awash in pastels. But Jisung couldn’t say that. Jisung didn’t know how to say that.

“Making that face after you said it really sold the compliment, thank you,” Minho’s tone was dry, but Jisung could see a hint of amusement in the quirk of his lips. “Very believable.”

“I mean, you are hot. But that’s not what I wanted to say. I just…” Jisung huffed out a breath, blowing his bangs off his forehead as he cursed his stupid brain from not linking up with his stupid mouth. “I don’t know how to say what I want to say.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take hot.” Minho had loosened his grip on the sheet, not letting it fall but not clutching it like a lifeline anymore. “You don’t have to hype me up or whatever. I’m not really that insecure about it normally. It just felt kind of weird to be exposed without the distraction of arousal. I thought you might look at it more than people normally do.”

“I have a scar too!” In his excitement to show Minho, he climbed onto the bed and on top of the older boy, plopping down on Minho’s lap. His legs bracketed Minho’s hips and he pushed his bangs off his forehead, shoving his face into Minho’s personal space in an attempt to show him the scar on his forehead. “I fell off my bike when I was little.” Minho’s hands snapped up, holding Jisung by the hips and stopping him from his excessive wiggling. Minho’s voice was strained when he spoke, “Maybe don’t sit on me when I’m pretty much naked in bed if you want to keep things platonic.”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Jisung scrambled off, his knee grazing Minho’s crotch and feeling the problem as he flushed. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Minho offered him a small smile, “I guess we’re even now.”

“Yeah. No more dick touching from now on. Dick touching is for real relationships only.” Jisung held out his pinkie towards Minho and the older boy wrapped his own around it, locking in the promise. “Do you want to use the shower first then?”

“No, go ahead.”

Jisung nodded and headed into Minho’s bathroom, not bothering to lock the door before he stripped and stepped into the shower. He twisted the shower handle, but no spray of water greeted him. He tried again, twisting it to towards hot, but still, nothing happened. He tried pushing it and then pulling, tried tugging at the pin in the faucet, but no luck. He huffed out a sigh and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist before calling for Minho.

He cracked the door so Minho would know it was safe to enter, still messing around with the handle as he waited for the older boy to appear.

The door creaked open slowly. Minho was still shirtless, but he was wearing a pair of sweatpants now and didn’t seem all that bothered about Jisung looking at him anymore, “What’s up?”

“I can’t work your dumb shower,” Jisung pouted, gesturing towards the faucet. “It won’t do anything.”

“Oh.” Minho slipped fully into the room, his eyes widening slightly when he saw what Jisung was wearing. Or the lack of what he was wearing. “Um, you have to turn it while pushing it in and then pull it out when it gets to where you want. It is dumb, it’s annoying to adjust the temperature."

Minho reached into the shower and twisted the handle with practiced perfection, darting back from the spray of water just in time, “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

Jisung waited for Minho to exit before he dropped the towel and stepped under the steaming water, pleased to find that Minho had set it at the perfect temperature. He sang as he went about his shower routine, sudsing up his hair with Minho’s citrusy shampoo. He followed it up with conditioner, and was slathering himself in body wash when he suddenly realized how weird he was being. Why had he asked to use the shower? Minho was just going to be dropping him off at home in an hour or so anyway.

Realism. In case Felix was home. That’s what he settled on, tipping his head back to rinse out the conditioner as the volume of his singing increased slightly. He hoped he wasn’t pissing off Minho’s neighbor again. 

Jisung finished washing himself and stepped out of the shower, drying off quickly and throwing back on the outfit Minho had lent him to sleep in. He ran the damp towel over his hair, getting out the heaviest wetness, before tugging open the cabinet Minho had withdrawn the skincare products from the night before. He didn’t bother with the full routine, just slapped on some moisturizer so he wouldn't feel like a lizard and stepped out of the bathroom.

Minho wasn’t in the bedroom, so Jisung padded barefoot down the hall, following the smell of bacon to the kitchen. Minho was in front of the stove, and he turned to offer Jisung a quick smile before he returned his attention to what he was cooking. Jisung wandered over, pressing up on his toes to stare at the pan over Minho’s shoulder. He was making pancakes, fluffy and golden brown and perfect. Jisung’s stomach rumbled and Minho laughed, informing him that breakfast was almost ready and that Jisung should go sit down.

Jisung did as he was told, collapsing into one of the set places at Minho’s table. There was a plate of bacon already in the center, along with a bowl of cut up fruit, a stick of butter and a bottle of syrup. A glass of orange juice was near Jisung’s empty plate, along with a steaming mug of coffee.

“I didn’t know how you took it,” Minho appeared at Jisung’s side, placing a plate piled high with pancakes next to the bacon. “Since we didn’t order our coffee together yesterday. I have milk, half and half or creamer. Sugar if you need it too.”

Jisung shook his head and took a sip of the black coffee, letting the bitterness explode over his tongue, “This is fine, thanks. You didn’t have to cook.”

“You said you wanted to do breakfast.” Minho grabbed the creamer from the fridge and added a splash to his own coffee before he sat down. He served Jisung two pancakes and three slices of bacon before making his own plate and sitting back. “For pictures.”

“Yeah, I thought we’d go out somewhere. Or order in. I didn’t mean to make you go through all this effort.”

“It’s not that much effort,” Minho took a sip of his coffee as Jisung snapped a few photos of the food, then a few sneaky ones of Minho that were definitely not sneaky and that Minho definitely noticed. “I like cooking. I would have done it for myself if you weren’t here anyway, so really, it was nothing.”

“Way to make a guy feel special,” Jisung mumbled, dropping his phone onto the table and beginning to shovel pancakes into his mouth. “Holy shit, this is good.”

Minho stared at him, a small neatly cut piece of pancake on his own fork, “It’s just store bought pancake mix.”

“I survive purely on ramen and takeout. Anything that is not ramen is delicious.” Jisung reached for another pancake, then withdrew his fork when he realized he was being rude. He shouldn’t be going for seconds before Minho had finished his first plate. He returned his hands to his side of the table, scarfing down a piece of bacon instead.

“Feel free to have more,” Minho reached out and nudged the serving plate of pancakes in Jisung’s direction. “Please.”

Jisung knew the polite thing to do would be to decline, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a meal so much. He took another pancake and went to work, happily polishing it off as Minho finished his own.

“Did your friends say anything? About the photo?”

“Oh, I forgot to send it,” Jisung mumbled, his mouth full of pancake. He reached for his phone with sticky fingers, scrolling through the embarrassing amount of photos he’d taken of Minho lying in bed. He found the one he wanted and sent it, not bothering with a text or any emojis. His friends would know what it was.

“Felix says AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH. And also that he’s hungover as fuck.”

“Felix is your best friend?” Minho reached for another pancake, Jisung scooting the plate towards him and letting him take one, handing over the butter and syrup as well even though Minho didn’t ask for them. 

“Yeah. We joke that we’re twins since our birthdays are a day apart. We’ve all been friends since high school. Jeongin was a year below us, so we didn’t become friends with him until his sophomore year, but the rest of us have been friends since we were freshman. Seungmin too, but he didn’t move back to the city after college. We don’t see him too much these days. What about you?”

“My best friend’s name is Chan.” Minho took another sip of his coffee, contemplating, “I guess he’s my only friend really. I have some acquaintances that I hang out with occasionally, but no one I’m really that close with besides him. We met in college.”

“Does he know about your job?”

“I assume by job you mean this,” Minho gestured between himself and Jisung. “This isn’t my job. More like a hobby, I guess. But yes, he knows.”

“Oh.” Jisung wasn’t sure why he’d assumed Minho did this full time. Maybe because he was so good at it. “What is your job then?”

“I’m a choreographer. You?”

That explained his glorious thighs. 

“Vocal coach.”

Minho nodded, taking another sip of his coffee, “You have a pretty voice. I heard you in the shower.”

“Thank you. So, uh, how did you get in the hobby of fake dating people? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind.” Minho set his coffee down, his fingers drumming against the kitchen table instead. “I had attachment issues. Or lack of attachment issues, I should say. I wanted the fun of dating without the worry of hurting anyone. I started it in college, but I think it’s gotten to the point where it’s fulfilled its purpose. I’m ready to try dating someone for real. I was actually online to take down my listing when you reached out. I thought this would be a good test drive to see if I have really worked through my issues.”

“Wait, so you’ve never had a boyfriend before either?” That was shocking information. So unbelievable that Jisung was sure he must be misunderstanding.

“Who says I’m into boys?”

“Your dick when I sat on it this morning,” Jisung deadpanned, earning a bright laugh from Minho.

“No, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve had two girlfriends though.”

“Oh.” Jisung was still the only one who’d been single for life. “You’re bi?”

“I’m extremely gay. They were from before I accepted that. You’re my first boyfriend. Fake or otherwise.”

“Wait, what?”

Minho giggled at the shocked look on Jisung’s face, “I’ve only ever been hired by girls. This isn’t really a service most men are interested in.”

Jisung groaned, sinking back in his chair and burying his face in his hands. Of course it wasn’t. He was such an idiot. No wonder he’d been instantly rejected so many times.

A foot nudged his under the table and Jisung peeked through his fingers, met by Minho’s soft smile, his cute front teeth on display, “I’m glad it’s you.”

Jisung returned to hiding, earning another laugh. He heard Minho’s chair scrape against the floor as he stood, and the clinking of dishes as he went about clearing the table. Jisung didn’t want to be a terrible guest, so he removed his hands from his flushed face and began to help, carrying his own dishes to the sink and putting away the butter and creamer as Minho began filling the sink.

“Do you mind me asking why you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

Jisung shut the fridge, moving over to the table and popping a piece of strawberry in his mouth from the untouched bowl at the center of the table. Minho was glancing over at him, his hands in the sudsy water, his eyes curious. Jisung carefully selected another piece of strawberry, but he didn’t eat it, crossing over to Minho and pressing it to his lips. Minho accepted the treat, slipping it into his mouth as Jisung leaned against the counter next to him, their shoulders lightly brushing.

Jisung shrugged. He didn’t really know why. He was attractive, he was kind, he was attentive. He was enthusiastic. Maybe a bit too enthusiastic at times. “I think maybe I just wanted it too badly.”

Minho hummed, contemplating. Jisung picked up the dish towel and waited for Minho to hand him a plate, his fingers toying with a stray string as Minho scrubbed. 

“I used to try. I did all the apps, I went to the bar, I tried a few blind dating events. I sat at the bookstore and looked cute. I’ve been on dates, it wasn’t that hard getting them. But it was hard keeping them. Third date was the furthest I made it. I stopped trying about a year ago. It was just too draining, starting over all the time. I think I was losing myself too, molding myself to be what I thought they’d want, trying to become someone they’d want to keep. They never did.”

“Their loss,” Minho’s voice was quiet, and he snuck a peek at Jisung out of the corner of his eye. Jisung offered him a closed mouth smile, a little too lost in his thoughts to see how sincerely Minho was looking at him. Jisung had a good life, he knew he did. He had friends who loved him and a job he loved and so many reasons to smile. But he’d always wondered what it would be like, to be someone’s person. To have someone be his person. To know at the end of the day, at the end of a lifetime, that they’d always have each other. It must be beautiful, to love and be loved so strongly.

Jisung noticed that Minho had been filling up the drying rack as he’d been thinking, so he shook himself out of his thoughts and got to work. Minho directed him to where everything belonged once it was dry and soon the breakfast dishes were washed, dried and put away. Jisung snuck a few more pieces of fruit, and fed a few more to Minho, before the fruit was transferred to a Tupperware and stored in the fridge.

Jisung draped the dishtowel over the edge of the drying rack and stepped back, their morning of soft domesticity complete. He should probably head out and leave Minho to his weekend. He’d taken up enough of his time and energy already. 

“I’m going to head home now.”

Minho glanced up from where he was wiping down the counter, tossing the used paper towel in the garbage and wiping his hands on his sweatpants, “I’ll drive you. Just give me like ten minutes to shower.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung had checked his location on his phone and realized that Minho’s apartment building was only a few blocks away from his own. “I actually live right around the corner. I can walk.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Oh, um, okay. Yeah, that’s fine.”

“You can watch tv if you want while you wait,” Minho gestured towards the living room. “Or the wifi password is sooniedoongiedori. I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time, I’m not in a rush.” He wasn’t. He had no plans for the rest of the day besides lounge around on his own couch and listen to Felix moan about his hangover. Jisung threw himself down on Minho’s couch as he heard the shower start, typing in the wifi password before making his way over to Instagram and posting the picture of their breakfast and one picture of Minho looking cute sipping his coffee on his close friends story, viewable only by Felix, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jeongin and Changbin. He then moved over to the search bar, typing in Lee Minho and scrolling through the accounts that popped up until he found his Minho. He didn’t have too many photos of himself, and what he did have were heavily filtered. Not in a ‘trying to make himself look hotter’ way, but in a ridiculous silly way that had Jisung huffing out a laugh. The rest of his feed was food and three cats, and Jisung clicked follow before he could think about it too much. It’d be weird if he wasn’t following him. He granted Minho access to his close friends, then clicked back to the story he’d posted to see his friend’s reactions. There were a lot of fire and crying emojis, and keyboard smashing courtesy of Felix. Changbin hadn’t reacted, but he had sent Jisung a text.

‘Real or fake?’

‘Fake’

‘He’s cute’

‘Yeah’

Jisung shoved his phone back in his pocket as he heard the water shut off, standing up from his spot on the couch and stretching. He collected his discarded clothes from the night before, wondering if he should change back into them and leave Minho’s sweatshirt and sweatpants behind. But it would be rude to not wash them, and he’d be seeing Minho soon enough to return them, so he just bundled his own clothes up and was hugging them to his chest when Minho popped into the living room. His skin was dewy from the shower and he was dressed in an oversized cardigan and neat jeans, his phone in his hand as he snapped a picture of unsuspecting, shocked Jisung. His fingers flew over his phone and Jisung glanced down at his own, shifting the bundle of clothes into one arm as he swiped open the Instagram notification. Minho had followed him back. And posted Jisung’s startled face on his story.

“Hey!” Jisung protested, looking down at his own wide eyes and gaping mouth.

“What?” Minho blinked at him innocently. “You posted me first.”

“But you looked cute,” Jisung humphed, closing the app and shoving his phone in his pocket. “I look like an idiot.”

“Not true.” Minho’s fingers hovered over his phone, his gaze a little searching as he studied Jisung’s face, “You look cute too. But I’ll delete it if you want.”

“It’s fine,” Jisung hugged his clothes against his chest and tilted his head towards the door. “Ready?”

“Do you want to change?”

Jisung shook his head, “I need to wash your stuff anyway. So I’ll just wear this and bring it back to you next time I see you. If that’s okay.”

“Sure.” Minho disappeared back into his bedroom, then returned with a black tote bag. He held it out to Jisung, “So you don’t have to carry your clothes.”

“Oh,” Jisung took it, shoving his wrinkled outfit into it. “Thank you.”

The two boys busied themselves putting their shoes on and an awkward silence fell over them. He clutched the strap of the bag where it rested over his shoulder with both hands, following Minho down the hallway and towards the elevator. If things were real, he’d reach out for the small hand that dangled at Minho’s side, aching to be held. But it wasn’t real, and there were no friends to fool, so Jisung stuck to the rules he’d laid out, keeping to his side of the elevator as Minho fussed with his hair in the mirror. It was still sticking up a little weird, mostly in the back where he couldn’t see, and Jisung shuffled over without thinking too much, so focused on not touching Minho’s hand that he forgot touching his hair would also break his rules. Jisung smoothed his fingers over the strands that were sticking up, trying to fix them as Minho’s hands fell to his sides and his eyes met Jisung’s in the mirror.

The tip of Jisung’s tongue poked through his lips in concentration, his gaze returning to Minho’s head as he tried to tame the unruly strands. Minho had gone completely still, barely breathing as Jisung’s fingers carded continuously through his hair, fighting a losing battle.

“They won’t stay,” Jisung pouted when the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open and revealing the lobby.

“It’s okay,” Minho sounded a little breathless as they stepped out, the tips of his ears a pretty pink. “Thanks for trying.”

They exited the lobby and emerged into the early October sunshine, Jisung shivering slightly as the autumn air hit them. He shifted closer to Minho and his warmth, the older boy offering him a smile. Jisung wanted to take his hand, wanted to cling to his arm and whine about being cold as he snuggled into Minho’s side, but that wasn’t fake boyfriend activity. That was too flirty, too real. He shoved his hands in the pocket of his borrowed sweatshirt instead, their footsteps falling into sync as they headed down the sidewalk. 

“Do you want…?” Minho gestured towards a coffee shop as they passed, but Jisung shook his head. The coffee Minho had made him this morning was enough. Silence fell over them again, except for Jisung’s mumbled directions. He snuck a few glances at Minho out of the corner of his eye as they walked, but he didn’t seem bothered by the silence. He looked content, his eyes flicking to take in the sights of the city morning.

Jisung stopped them when they were a block from his building, tugging on the long sleeve of Minho’s cardigan, “I doubt Felix will be looking, but just in case…” He held his hand out and Minho happily accepted it, folding their fingers together before they resumed their stroll.

They still didn’t speak, but Jisung had settled into the moment, comfortable with the warmth of Minho’s hand in his. Maybe that had been his problem, in all his failed attempts before. He’d always tried to fill the silence, always tried to be something more. Maybe he should have just…been.

Jisung squeezed Minho’s hand when they approached his building, halting him, “This is me.”

Minho glanced up at the building, then down at Jisung, “Do you want me to walk you up?”

Jisung shook his head, “Here’s good.”

“Oh, um, okay. Uh, text me, I guess?” Minho looked a little bummed and Jisung wondered if he should retract his previous statement and tell Minho yes, that he would love for him to walk him up. But he just gave Minho a small smile and moved to untangle their fingers.

Then, just in case Felix was peeking out the window (Jisung knew he wouldn’t be), Jisung leaned in, “We can hug.”

Minho needed no more invitation than that, his arms winding their way around Jisung’s waist and lifting him off his feet in his enthusiasm, drawing a half scream, half laugh from Jisung’s lips. His arms went around Minho’s shoulders, smacking his shoulder blade as he shrieked, “Put me down!”

“You’re so tiny,” Minho didn’t listen, swinging Jisung around, his legs dangling as he flailed. Minho’s arms were steady around him, no chance of dropping him even as Jisung wiggled, and his smile was evident on his face. “My tiny little boyfriend.”

“I am not,” Jisung huffed, his feet finally finding the ground again as Minho relented. He didn’t pull back from the hug though, still clinging to Jisung as the younger boy tried to regain his dignity. He really liked that Minho could pick him up so easily, but Minho did not need to know that.

“Yes, you are.” Minho’s voice was light and teasing, his eyes sparkly when they met Jisung’s. Jisung glared at him, but that just increased Minho’s giggling. Jisung was not tiny. Sure, his legs were slim and his waist had been the envy of more than a few of his female classmates over the years, but he worked out. He was built.

As soon as Minho finally unwound his arms, Jisung made his move, lifting Minho off the ground as the older boy went stiff as a board in his arms.

“Who’s tiny now?” Jisung’s breathing was a little too heavy to prove his point, but it wasn’t his fault. Minho may have looked soft around the edges, but he was clearly solid muscle.

“Still you,” Minho hummed, his feet a few inches off the ground and his weight dead in Jisung’s arm. But despite his stiffness, he didn’t seem uncomfortable, content to just hang out in Jisung’s hold.

Jisung set him down, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink as Minho smiled at him again, darting in to pinch one of them, “That was cute, baby.”

“Shut up,” Jisung grumbled, knowing the pout on his face wasn’t doing him any favors.

“Make me.” There was a challenging lint to Minho’s voice, a smirk on his face and one eyebrow quirked, daring Jisung to move. His eyes flicked down, briefly, noticeably, lingering on Jisung’s lips for a heated second before they returned to his eyes.

Jisung wanted to so badly. He wanted to close the space between them, to wind his arms around Minho’s neck and press into him, to taste the mouth he couldn’t stop thinking of. He wanted it to be real. He wanted Minho to be challenging him for a kiss because Minho wanted Jisung to kiss him.

But it wasn’t.

So Jisung stepped back with a weak punch to Minho’s shoulder, not missing the way his face fell. He was disappointing Minho a lot, it seemed. Good thing they weren’t actually together. Minho would have broken up with him already. 

“See you around.”

“Yeah,” Minho shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels, his smile closed mouth and not the cute one Jisung was already becoming used to. “See you around.”

Jisung watched as Minho turned and took off down the street, heading back in the direction they’d come from. Jisung stayed outside, giving Minho a small wave when he reached the corner and turned to peek over his shoulder. That made him smile. The real smile.

Jisung headed inside, making his way upstairs and humming to himself as he fit his key in the lock of his apartment. He’d barely gotten the door open before he was being accosted, Felix grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him into the living room.

Felix shoved him down onto the couch and looked at him expectantly, “Well?”

“Well what?” Jisung played dumb.

“How was it? How was he?”

“Good. He was sweet.” It wasn’t a lie, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough for Felix. They’d never been shy about sharing their sexual experiences before, and Jisung hadn’t thought that would be an issue, figuring he’d just make something up to tell his best friend, but now that he knew him, he didn’t really want to lie about Minho. Or share anything personal.

“How big was it?”

“Felix!” Jisung shoved his friend, knocking him sideways. It was a completely normal question for them, not something Jisung had ever batted an eye about sharing in the past. But he wouldn’t tell Felix that, even if he did know. It felt belittling to reduce Minho down to a body part. “None of your business.”

“Holy shit, you like him.”

Jisung didn’t need to answer. His burning face gave him away.

“Tell me about him then!” Felix beamed, bouncing a little in his seat. He looked absolutely delighted, crossing his legs and resting his chin in his cupped hands as he waited for Jisung to speak.

“He’s really nice. And gentle. He touched me like I was important.” That wasn’t an exaggeration, Jisung remembering the ghost of Minho’s fingers on his face the night before. “He made me breakfast in the morning and walked me home. He’s 24, he’s a choreographer, his best friend’s name is Chan. He liked my tattoos. His neighbor got mad at us for making too much noise.” Not a lie, but Jisung knew where Felix’s mind would go with that. He had to give him a little something, since he was refusing to share what he normally shared without thinking twice. “He has a scar on his tummy that he’s a little insecure about but it’s so beautiful. He’s so beautiful. I didn’t know how to tell him that though. How do you tell someone that if their face was the only thing you saw for the rest of your life you’d die the happiest man on the planet?”

“When are you seeing him again?”

Jisung shrugged. They hadn’t set down an actual date yet. 

Felix’s eyes narrowed, “I’ll kill him if he breaks your heart. He better ask you on a proper date.”

“It was one night, Felix. I don’t think we have a right to commit murder if he doesn’t want to see me again.”

“You’ve been on more first dates than I can count. Even the ones you enjoyed, you never came home like this. I don’t care if it was just one night. He’s special to you and if he ruins it I’ll kill him.”

“Love you too, Lixie,” Jisung stood up from the couch, hitching his thumb towards his room. “I’m kind of beat. I’m just gonna…”

Felix nodded, “I’m about to go meet up with Jeongin for brunch anyway. Want me to bring you back anything?”

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Jisung heard the front door open and shut a few minutes after he’d thrown himself down on his bed, his eyes locked on the ceiling fan doing lazy circles above him. He should probably change and wash Minho’s clothes, but the scent of his cologne still lingered, and Jisung didn’t want to erase it just yet. He dug into his pocket for his phone, tugging it out to see that Minho had messaged him. Multiple times.

They were short little things. A picture of a stray cat he’d run into on his way home. An odd shaped cloud. A bunch of emojis that Jisung wasn’t sure how to decipher. A text about running into his unhappy and more-tired-than-usual neighbor in the elevator. And then, finally…

‘Coffee? Tomorrow?’

Tomorrow seemed soon for the fake dating timeline. Jisung had been thinking they should drag it on a little bit longer. Maybe wait until the middle of the week. But in reality, he did want to see Minho again, as soon as possible.

He agreed and was met immediately by a text informing him that Minho would be at his building at 9 am tomorrow to pick him up.

Jisung sighed and rolled himself off the bed, dropping unceremoniously to his floor. Looks like he was going to have to do the laundry today after all.

-

Jisung was outside at 8:45 the next morning, Minho’s washed and folded clothes tucked neatly into the bag he’d lent him. It was a beautiful fall day and Jisung had dressed for it, in a fuzzy brown cardigan and a pair of dark jeans, his favorite platform boots on his feet. He was wearing a pair of circular wire rimmed glasses and his long hair had been carefully styled by Felix, curling perfectly around his face. He’d kept his jewelry on the simple side today, just a thin silver necklace and a pair of small silver hoops. He had one ring on his right index finger and he fiddled with it as he waited for Minho to appear. He knew he’d come down too early, but he was getting antsy upstairs with Felix doting on him like an overbearing mother. 

Except there was Minho, 15 minutes early, in a green bomber jacket over a white t-shirt and black jeans that fit him almost as sinfully as last night’s leather pants. He lit up when he saw Jisung already outside, using both hands to wave excitedly as he picked up his pace.

Jisung could feel his own smile blooming over his lips and he hurried to meet him, his hands wrapped tightly around the handle of Minho’s bag.

Minho’s eyes widened just a bit when Jisung got closer, flicking over his face and the new edition, “You’re wearing glasses.”

“Yeah, I slept with my contacts in when I stayed at your place, so I figured I’d give my eyes a break,” Jisung pushed the wired frames higher up his nose, watching as Minho’s eyes followed his movement. “Plus it’s kind of boyfriend vibes, isn’t it? Boyfriends wear glasses.”

“People who need to see wear glasses,” Minho huffed, his tone rich with laughter. “But they look really nice on you. Wear them every day.”

“So you like them then.”

“I have never liked anything more. Wear them every day,” Minho repeated, his gaze never leaving Jisung’s face. “My cute little nerd.”

“You look nice too.”

“Thank you,” Minho’s smile was the shy one, the one that he tended to direct at the ground more than at Jisung. His hair was perfectly styled to show off just the right amount of forehead and his lips were lightly glossed, as if Jisung needed more of a reason to constantly be staring at them. 

Jisung rocked back on his heels, his fingers still wrapped around the strap of his bag, “Uh, we should probably get out of here before Felix comes down and threatens to castrate you if you hurt me. He’s in a protective mood today.”

“So he believed you then?” Minho’s voice was light, but Jisung could hear something else underneath it, though he couldn’t quite place it. “You must be quite the actor.”

“I didn’t have to pretend to be attracted to you,” Jisung scoffed, then immediately wished he could take it back when he saw the satisfied smile on Minho’s face. He reached out and shoved him, Minho not even missing a step as he continued to gloat.

“What did you say about me?”

“None of your business,” Jisung whacked him with the tote bag before wondering if he was being too flirty. It wasn’t supposed to be real. He returned the bag to his arm and kept his voice even. “I told him you were nice.”

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“What’s wrong with nice?” Jisung bumped his shoulder into Minho’s before he could overthink it. “You are nice.”

“You should have told him how incredibly cool and sexy I am. And how I rocked your world in bed. Changed your life and shit.” Jisung knew Minho was just teasing, but for some reason it was important to him that Minho know he hadn’t violated him, even fictionally.

“He asked how big your dick was but I didn’t tell him. Obviously I don’t know,” Jisung waved his hands frantically when he felt Minho looking at him, “but, like, even if I did. I wouldn’t have told him.”

“Okay,” Minho said lightly. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Thanks, you guess?” Jisung pouted. “I try to protect your dignity and I get a thanks, I guess?”

Minho laughed, his fingers brushing Jisung’s as he moved closer to avoid a family hogging half the sidewalk, “I mean, aren’t we supposed to be fucking?” The mother of the family he’d tried to avoid glared at him and Minho offered her a weird polite smile before immediately returning to the conversation, “You should have told him I have the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. Really hype me up. You should have been limping around the apartment all day.”

“Who says I’m a bottom?”

Minho leveled him with a stare that had Jisung’s toes curling in his boots, “What?”

“That ass? You’re a bottom.”

Maybe Jisung should have been embarrassed to be having this conversation loudly on a public sidewalk with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, but he wasn’t. He felt comfortable with Minho, comfortable with the way he teased and prodded and smiled at Jisung like he was important. They continued to bicker back and forth until they reached the coffee shop, Minho grabbing the door handle first and holding it open for Jisung.

Jisung stepped inside and Minho followed at a close distance, though there was no hand on the small of his back as he went through the doorway this time. Minho was abiding by Jisung’s rules. Jisung tried not to feel disappointed. It was at his own request that Minho wasn’t touching him.

“You grab a table and I’ll get the drinks. What would you like?”

“An iced Americano,” Jisung fumbled for his wallet, but Minho gave him a deadly look when he pulled it out. He quickly put it back. Minho would probably just add it onto his tab for the date. “And, umm, a blueberry scone or something like that if they have it.”

Minho nodded and headed towards the front counter, Jisung glancing around the shop until he spotted an empty table in the corner. One side was a booth and the other side had two normal chairs. He dropped his bag on one of the chairs and settled into the booth half, pulling out his phone and checking Instagram. He wasn’t sure why he did, but he clicked over to Minho’s profile and noticed that Felix was now following him. Great. Minho didn’t post that much, maybe they could get away with him never posting Jisung. Jisung didn’t want Minho’s real life getting too tangled in his web of lies.

“One iced Americano and one blueberry scone,” Minho deposited the drink and pastry in front of Jisung before collapsing in the booth next to him, peering over at the screen of Jisung’s phone as he took a drag on the straw of his own drink. “Stalking me?”

Jisung flushed, shutting his phone off and shoving it in his pocket, “Felix followed you.”

“He did.”

“I’m sorry.”

Minho pulled his straw from his lips with a pop, furrowing his brows, “Why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t mean for your real life to get involved in this.”

“Instagram isn’t my real life. Also Chan wants to know if he’s single.”

“Felix?”

“Yeah.”

“You talked to Chan about Felix?” Jisung was confused. 

“I talked to Chan about you,” Minho corrected. “He saw Felix on your feed. He said, and I quote, who is that ethereal angel and how much do I have to pay your boyfriend to introduce us.”

“You told Chan I’m your boyfriend?”

Minho waved his hand, “Fake boyfriend, whatever. He knows about the long con.”

“Oh, okay.” Jisung’s heart had done something funny at the thought of Minho introducing him to his best friend as his boyfriend, and it settled back into its normal rhythm with the clarification. “But, uh, yeah, he is. Felix. Single.”

“I’ll lie to him,” Minho said easily, reaching over and pinching off a crumb of Jisung’s scone, popping it in his mouth. “Don’t worry.”

Jisung hadn’t even thought about that, about how messy it could get if their friend groups combined. He actually hadn’t given enough thought to this plan at all, now that they were already in it. His friends were going to get attached to Minho. Maybe he should just cut his losses and end it here.

But then he glanced up and saw Minho’s smile as he stole another bite of Jisung’s breakfast, and, well, if things got messy, they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

-

“What are you doing for Halloween?”

Jisung stared up at his ceiling, his phone balanced on his bare chest. He’d just gotten out of the shower when Minho called, not bothering to finish getting dressed before he answered.

“Changbin throws a big costume party every year. It started as just a stupid thing in college, but it’s kind of a tradition now. I’m still not sure what my costume is going to be though.” Jisung really needed to get on that. Halloween was in less than a week.

“Oh. That sounds cool.”

“Yeah,” Jisung hummed. “What about you?”

“Staying home and handing out candy to the kids in the building, I guess.”

“That’s it?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over and have a horror movie marathon, but…another time.”

“You should come to the party,” the invitation was out of Jisung’s mouth before he could think twice. They’d been hanging out a lot, way more than Jisung’s wallet was going to be able to handle whenever Minho finally got around to sending him the bill, but they hadn’t spent any time around Jisung’s friends yet. Felix would sometimes wave down from their apartment window when Minho came to pick Jisung up, but that was the extent of it. It was about time everyone met for real.

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

“Then I’d love to come.” 

Jisung could hear the smile on Minho’s voice and he switched their call over Facetime, wanting to actually see it. Minho beamed at him, his eyes crinkling happily, “Hi, Jisungie.”

“Hi,” Jisung shifted, sitting upright against his headboard and balancing the phone between his knees, not missing the way Minho’s eyes dropped to his bare chest. He could see that Minho was lying on his couch, the phone close to his face and the vague sound of the tv playing in the background. “Whatcha watching?”

Minho flipped the phone to show him and Jisung whined, earning a giggle from Minho when it was flipped back, “Miss my face that much?”

“It’s a good face.” They’d been flirting a lot recently, though Minho was still respecting all the boundaries Jisung had laid out at the beginning of the month. No touching, unless Jisung touched him first. Jisung was respecting Minho’s boundaries of touching him anytime, anywhere by clinging to him constantly, much to Minho’s amusement. “How’s work going?”

Minho was in the midst of choreographing a piece for the local high school dance team for their winter showcase, and Jisung knew he’d been struggling with it. It wasn’t his normal type of job, but he’d agreed to do it as a favor for a former classmate who was now the dance coach. Jisung had already added the date of the showcase to his calendar, planning to show up and support Minho regardless of if he was asked to or not. Jisung had earnestly told Minho that the fake boyfriend bit could go the other way too, if Minho ever wanted Jisung to do something for him, but so far Minho hadn’t taken him up on that offer.

“It’s going,” Minho’s lashes fluttered, and from this close, Jisung found himself thinking he could count every last one. “I was taking a break today for my birthd-”

Jisung shot up so fast he was afraid he’d given himself whiplash, “It’s your birthday?”

Minho’s laugh was a little embarrassed, slightly self-deprecating, “Yeah.”

“What the fuck, Minho? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jisung was out of his bed now, searching for a shirt as he chastised him. “I’m coming over.”

“No you aren’t. It’s late and you have work tomorrow.”

“I’m coming over, asshole.” Jisung tugged on a random t-shirt and then threw his favorite hoodie over it, tripping into a pair of baggy jeans before he grabbed his phone from where he’d left it on the bed. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Jisung…”

“You’re alone on your couch watching anime. On your birthday. I’m coming over.”

Jisung didn’t give Minho any more time to argue, ending the call and shoving his phone in his pocket. He didn’t allow himself to think about how this was crossing the line, the boundaries of their fake relationship blurring with his real anger at the fact that Minho hadn’t told him it was his birthday. Rationally, he knew they had a working relationship and it was none of his business. Irrationally, he was devastated that he hadn’t been asked to celebrate it with Minho.

Jisung hurried towards Minho’s apartment, cursing the late time. There weren’t too many stores open, nowhere for Jisung to pick up an impromptu present, so he made a note to himself to check out the stores tomorrow. He wasn’t sure what Minho would like. Something cat related maybe. Or some jokey lingerie.

The convenience store on the corner was open however, and Jisung ducked inside, grabbing a basket and throwing in a random assortment of snacks. Minho usually ate clean, but he always made an exception for Jisung. If Jisung brought the snacks, he’d eat them. Jisung grabbed two chocolate cupcakes as well, searching around until he found a sad pack of candles and a lighter. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

Jisung paid for his things and continued on his way, entering Minho’s now familiar building and pressing the button to call the elevator. It arrived with a swoosh, Minho’s neighbor stepping out with a trash bag. He groaned when he saw Jisung and a blush worked its way up Jisung’s face. It was all innocent, but they did tend to make a lot of noise when Jisung was over. The neighbor definitely thought they were fucking though, Minho had told Jisung so. He wanted to tell the man that there was nothing going on between them, but he was already hurrying across the lobby, probably cursing the lack of sleep he thought he was going to get tonight.

Jisung stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor, leaning back against the wall as he made the short trip up. 

Minho usually left the door unlocked for him if he knew Jisung was coming over and tonight was no different, the knob turning easily under Jisung’s hand. He locked it behind him, kicking off his shoes and wandering into the apartment. The tv was still playing, but Minho was no longer on the couch, so Jisung dropped his bag of snacks in the kitchen and padded towards the bedroom.

He heard the low murmur of Minho’s voice, pushing the door open without a second thought. Minho knew he was coming. Minho had left the front door unlocked for him.

“It breaks my heart that you spend every birthday alone,” the woman’s voice came from Minho’s laptop, heavy and laced with sadness. “I’m sorry that we live so far away.”

“I don’t mind, Mom. Really. It’s just another day.”

“It shouldn’t be. It’s a special day and it should be celebrated that way.”

Minho’s mom noticed Jisung before Minho did, her eyes going wide on the screen. Jisung cursed under his breath, slipping back out the door into the darkness of the hallway as Minho turned.

“Who was that?”

“Jisung, you don’t have to hide.” That was addressed to him. The next line was addressed to his mother, “That’s Jisung. My boyfriend.”

What. The. Fuck.

Jisung knew that Minho’s mom probably didn’t know about his hobby. And that explaining who Jisung actually was would lead to more questions than answers. Minho should have just said Jisung was his friend.

Because now Minho’s mom was crying. Happy tears, chastising Minho for not telling her sooner while also sobbing about how glad she was that he’d finally found someone.

Jisung was frozen in the hallway, too scared to move. He was afraid Minho’s mom would see his face and immediately know Minho was lying. He was more afraid she would see his face and not realize Minho was lying, Jisung’s desire for it to be true written plainly across his features.

“Jisungie, come say hi.”

Minho’s voice snapped him into action, Jisung couldn’t ignore a direct request. He sidled into the room again, shuffling awkwardly over to where Minho was sitting at his desk. He offered Minho’s mom a stiff wave, Minho scootching over on his desk chair to make room for Jisung to sit with him. Jisung complied, perching on the edge of the chair as Minho’s mother sniffled about how cute he was.

Jisung felt Minho’s arm settle over his shoulders, the first time Minho had broken the rules since the early days. But Jisung had told him the fake boyfriend bit could be reciprocal, so Jisung leaned into him, ready to play his role. He hadn’t expected to be lying to Minho’s mother, but he hadn’t specified what Minho could use it for, so he hoped his smile didn’t look too pained as he addressed Minho’s mom, “Hi, Mrs. Lee. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, sweetie. I’m so glad Minho has someone to be with on his birthday.”

“Yes, I’m sorry I came over so late. Work,” Jisung waved his hand and Mrs. Lee nodded in understanding.

“I won’t take up any more of your time. Enjoy the rest of your birthday, honey. Jisung, I can’t wait to meet you in person one day.”

Jisung echoed the sentiment and Minho bid his mom goodbye, slowly closing his laptop when the screen went dark. Jisung leapt up from where he was sitting, his eyes locked on Minho. Minho, who was still deliberately closing the laptop at the speed of a sloth, his ears red as he stubbornly avoided Jisung’s gaze. 

Jisung reached out and snapped the laptop shut, Minho’s fingers escaping just in time, “What the hell was that about?”

“It was an accident. It just slipped out. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!” Jisung heard a bang on the wall and he winced, lowering the volume of his voice before he pissed the neighbor off even more. “She was crying!”

“Okay, so she can go to bed happy for once thinking I’m not going to die alone. Who cares about the technicalities?” Minho spun his chair around and stood up, heading out into the hallway. Jisung followed close behind, not done.

“But she’ll be so sad when she finds out it isn’t real.”

“She’s not going to find out. Real relationships end too. So when we break up, real or fake, it’ll all be the same to her.”

Jisung guessed Minho did have a point there. It wouldn’t hurt her to think things were real. Jisung knew she lived on the other side of the country and rarely came to visit. Might as well let her believe.

“I brought snacks,” Jisung informed him, changing the subject. Minho seemed relieved that Jisung was willing to move on so quickly, and he followed him into the kitchen, flipping on the light as they went. Jisung fished around in the bag until he found the cupcakes and candles, making a fuss of getting them decorated and lit before flicking the light back off and holding one of the cupcakes out to Minho. “Make a wish.”

In the dancing flame of the candle, Jisung watched as Minho screwed his eyes shut. He mouthed something that looked suspiciously like ‘you‘ before his eyes fluttered open and he blew, the flame extinguishing.

Jisung reached for the other cupcake carefully, cradling it in his palm and holding it up in front of Minho’s mouth. Maybe it was the late hour, or Minho’s mom’s tears, or the sadness in Minho’s eyes when Jisung snapped at him for calling them real, but Jisung’s other hand drifted to Minho’s neck, resting there lightly. Minho’s breath hitched, the flame disappearing for the briefest of moments before it flickered back to life, Jisung’s fingers soothing softly against his skin.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Jisung’s voice was low, mumbled, the pet name tripping over his tongue. Minho called him things like that so easily, but it felt heavier coming from Jisung’s lips. Realer.

Minho’s eyes met his over the flame and they didn’t leave, his gaze full of longing as he gently blew out the candle.

Jisung was stupid. The kitchen was dark and safe and Minho was right there, and he was so sad, and Jisung was so stupid. He moved his hand with the cupcake in it out of the way, setting it on the table before stepping forward into the space it had once occupied. His other hand was steady on Minho’s neck, still soft, still soothing, and he heard a tiny noise of surprise at the back of Minho’s throat when he felt Jisung’s body against his. 

Tentative hands reached for Jisung’s waist as Jisung’s free hand slipped up to cup Minho’s cheek. One kiss, Jisung told himself. One kiss, in the safety of the darkness, to be forgotten as soon as they stepped back into the light. One kiss, for Minho’s birthday.

It was gentle, so gentle it almost broke Jisung’s heart, Minho’s mouth soft and surprised against his own. Jisung could feel the chapped skin of Minho’s bottom lip where he had a habit of biting it, and he could feel the way Minho’s plush upper lip slotted so perfectly with his own mouth. Jisung’s hands were shaking, where they were pressed against Minho’s skin, and he was surprised to feel the tremble in Minho’s own where they lightly held Jisung’s waist.

Minho was always so flirty, teasing and wrecking Jisung with his words, that Jisung thought kissing him would be the same. But kissing him was heartbreaking, Minho frozen in place, like he was afraid if he so much as breathed he would ruin it.

Jisung pulled back, then pressed a second even softer kiss to Minho’s slack mouth. Both were chaste, both barely lasted more than a few seconds. Jisung knew he’d spend the rest of his life thinking about them.

He stepped back completely, moving out of Minho’s space as the older boy’s hands fell limply to his side, his mouth still parted in shock. His eyes were closed, and he didn’t open them, didn’t move, barely breathed, as if he was still trying to process what had just happened.

Jisung wondered if he should say anything. Apologize. Tell him it was a mistake. Do it again.

In the end, he did nothing, just flicked on the overhead light and peeled the cupcake wrapper off one of the cupcakes like nothing had happened, tossing the spent candle into the garbage and taking a bite. 

He was halfway through the cupcake, chocolate frosting smeared across his mouth, when Minho blinked back to reality. His eyes found Jisung’s, shy, confused, and Jisung nudged the other cupcake in his direction, returning his own gaze to the one in his hand.

He didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t sure what he’d say. For one moment, when things were safe, he’d let himself believe it was real. It was too dangerous. Those feelings had to stay in the dark.

“Thanks,” Minho mumbled, his voice raspy. He removed the cupcake wrapper slowly, carefully, peeling it back while sneaking occasional glances at Jisung. Jisung kept his eyes firmly away from Minho’s, afraid eye contact would have him spilling all his secrets. “Thanks for coming over. You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” Jisung popped the last bite of his cupcake in his mouth, crossing to the sink to wash the crumbs off his hands before cleaning his mouth with a damp paper towel. He grabbed one for Minho too, holding it out to him while still avoiding his gaze. Minho accepted it, tucking it into his hand, though he’d yet to take a bite of his cupcake.

“Do you not like chocolate?”

Jisung’s words startled him into action and he lifted the cupcake to his mouth, nibbling lightly. It seemed forced, a little too robotic, and Jisung reached over, his hand closing gently around Minho’s and pushing the treat away from his lips, “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll eat it,” Minho’s eyes were locked on where Jisung’s hand was still resting over his. “You got it for me. I’ll eat it.”

“I only got it because all the other stores were closed and I couldn’t find anything else. Please don’t eat it if you don’t want to. I’ll get you a real cake tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to get me anything else. You’ve already done more than enough.” Minho took a proper bite of the cupcake this time, swallowing it as Jisung’s hand fell from his. “Seriously, Jisung. Thank you.”

“I still have to get you a present,” Jisung huffed, turning his attention to the assortment of other snacks he’d brought. He popped open a bag of chips and shoved a few in his mouth, just for something to do with his hands. “Don’t say no.”

Minho snapped his mouth closed, his eyes dropping down and a small, pleased smile making its way onto his face. He was so pretty like that, when he was soft and vulnerable, and Jisung wanted to gather him up and put him in his pocket, so he could treasure him forever. He wanted to capture it in a photo, so he could look at it whenever he wanted, but he’d been weird enough already tonight. He gathered up the rest of the snacks in his arms and nodded towards the doorway, “Movie?”

Minho trailed behind him into the living room, polishing off the cupcake before they reached the couch. Jisung dumped his armload of snacks on the coffee table and collapsed into his now familiar spot, leaning up against the arm rest as Minho settled on the other end of the couch. The distance between them felt larger than normal, and Jisung didn’t like it. He stood to turn off the light and grab a blanket and when he returned, he decided to forgo his normal spot in favor of settling down next to Minho.

Minho didn’t react, besides stuttering a little too quickly through the movie choices on the tv as Jisung got comfortable next to him, but soon his rhythm returned to normal, clicking through the movies until he settled on Kiki’s Delivery Service. It was their compromise movie, Jisung liking Studio Ghibli and Minho liking cats.

Jisung dropped his head to Minho’s shoulder as the movie started and Minho tentatively slipped an arm around his waist. The touch was so gentle, as if Minho was afraid he could break the fragility of the moment with his normal enthusiasm, and Jisung didn’t let himself think about it. It wasn’t real.

Jisung had to keep telling himself that, for his sanity. Because everything about this moment felt real. Jisung dropping what he was doing to run to Minho when he found out it was his birthday; the cupcakes and candles; the video chat with his mom; the kisses; the way Minho had looked at Jisung when he made his wish. It was all just for them. Jisung’s friends didn’t know he was here. There was no post, no public acknowledgement of what they were doing.

Just Minho and Jisung, cuddled together on the couch, and Kiki and Jiji, comforting and familiar on the screen.

-

“Sungie.”

Jisung felt his shoulder shake and he struggled to open his eyes, blinking in the soft morning light of Minho’s living room. They were still on the couch, Jisung’s head cradled in Minho’s lap where he must have fallen asleep last night. He doesn’t remember lying down. 

“Sorry,” Jisung sat up, yawning and rubbing at his eyes with the baggy sleeve of his sweatshirt, sleep making his eyelids heavy. “Didn’t mean to stay all night.”

“It’s okay,” Minho stood when Jisung moved, his hands on his lower back as he stretched, working out the kinks from sleeping sitting up. Jisung watched him with lidded eyes, watched the way Minho’s neck tilted back, exposing the unmarked expanse of his throat. Jisung blinked and tore his eyes away. “I hope you aren’t late for work.”

Jisung fumbled for his phone, checking the time. His first client was in a half hour. He could make it, if Minho drove him. He told him so and Minho nodded, more than willing.

“Do you want new clothes?”

Jisung glanced down at the stained hoodie he’d thrown on last night, accidentally snatched from the dirty pile of laundry. He winced, “Yeah, probably.”

“Okay. You can hop in the shower if you want. I’ll grab you a shirt.”

Jisung nodded, shuffling down the hallway to Minho’s bedroom. He messed with the shower handle, finally getting the water to turn on after a minor struggle. He shed his clothes and stepped under the spray, making sure to keep his hair dry. He didn’t have enough time to fix that.

Jisung showered quickly, toweling himself off and pulling on his underwear and jeans from the night before. He bundled his t-shirt and sweatshirt up in his arms and headed back out into Minho’s room.

The older boy was in the middle of changing, his back to Jisung, and Jisung drank in the sight hungrily, unabashedly. He loved every part of Minho that he’d seen, but his legs always drew his eyes, so strong and powerful, so much more than Jisung’s own.

Minho turned as he pulled his jeans up, Jisung snapping his gaze away, feeling the blush hot on his cheeks. He heard Minho hum, heard the soft noise of his zipper, and when he looked again Minho didn’t seem too bothered about having caught Jisung staring.

Minho grabbed his favorite blue sweater from his closet, but he didn’t pull it on. He tossed it to Jisung, the soft fabric landing on his head. Jisung tugged it off as he dropped his own clothes, his brows furrowing as he stared at it, “This is your favorite.”

Minho had never told him that, but they’d only been hanging out for the better part of a month and he’d seen Minho in this sweater at least three times. He never repeated any other outfits.

Minho seemed pleased that he’d noticed, his lips tugging up into the pretty smile that revealed his cute front teeth, “Yeah, it is. You can wear it today.”

“I’m not stealing your favorite sweater,” Jisung crossed the room, pressing the sweater into Minho’s bare chest, but the older boy didn’t make a move to grab it. He just blinked at Jisung, unperturbed.

“I want you to wear it.”

Jisung opened his mouth to protest again and Minho leveled him with that look, the one that got Jisung to do whatever the other boy wanted. He snapped his mouth shut and pulled the sweater on. Minho preened, pleased.

The older boy threw on a plain t-shirt and an oversized hoodie, shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers and gesturing towards the door. Jisung followed him out, slipping his feet into his own shoes as Minho grabbed his keys.

Once they were in the elevator, Jisung’s irritated eyes began to burn, his contacts protesting after wearing them all night again. He blinked rapidly and rubbed at his eyes, but it made no difference. He could feel Minho looking at him, could feel his concern, until Jisung finally sighed and popped them out. 

“Do you want to stop at home and get your glasses?” Minho asked as they stepped out of the elevator.

Jisung shook his head, “Not enough time. I’ll be fine, I’ll just have a headache later.”

The drive to Jisung’s work wasn’t long, and they got lucky with traffic, so soon enough he was stumbling out of the car, thanking Minho profusely.

“What time should I pick you up?”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Jisung waved him away. “Jeongin can pick me, or I can take the bus. I have some errands to run after work anyway, don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Minho,” with one final wave over his shoulder, Jisung was gone.

-

Jisung rubbed his temples, groaning as he dropped his head to the pile of music sheets and random crumpled pieces of paper that littered his desk. He thought he’d be okay for the day without his glasses, but he could already feel the pressure building behind his eyes, and his first client had just left.

Jisung heard a soft knock at the door and he shot up, peeling away one of the music sheets that was sticking to his forehead. He wasn’t supposed to have another client for 20 minutes.

“Sorry to interrupt your pity party.”

Minho’s blurry features came slightly more into focus as he stepped into Jisung’s office, crossing quickly to his desk. He held two things in his hands, a brown paper bag and Jisung’s glasses case.

Jisung almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to Minho, drawing a bright laugh from the older boy’s mouth as he snatched the glasses and jammed them on his nose.

“My savior! My very handsome, no longer blurry savior.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I went to your apartment and into your room,” Minho looked a little unsure, the paper bag crinkling in his hand as he clutched it tighter. “Felix let me in.”

“It’s fine,” Jisung waved his concerns away, dropping back down into his desk chair and glancing up at Minho. “Sorry if it was a mess.” He couldn’t quite remember what state he’d left his room in the night before.

“It wasn’t. I also, um, made you this. Since you didn’t have breakfast.” Minho dropped the paper bag on the desk, shoving his hands in his pockets once they were empty. “I didn’t know if you had a fridge or whatever, so it’s just…” 

Jisung unrolled the top of the bag and peeked in. There was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a banana, and a brownie that Jisung recognized as one of Felix’s.

“The brownie is from Felix,” Minho offered. “He was baking when I showed up.”

Jisung pushed his random assortment of paperwork to the side and climbed up to sit on his desk, his feet dangling as he gestured for Minho to take the chair. Minho hesitated for a second, then made his way around the desk, plopping down as Jisung pulled the sandwich out of the paper bag. He held one half out to Minho and took a bite out of his own.

“No, it’s for you.”

“You didn’t eat breakfast either,” Jisung reminded him. “Take it before it drips jelly on the carpet.”

“Fine,” Minho huffed, but Jisung could tell that he was pleased as he took a small bite of the sandwich.

Jisung swung his legs happily, munching on his half of the sandwich and watching Minho eat, the silence more comfortable than he expected after what happened in the dark the night before.

“Oh, wait, I should take a picture,” Jisung grabbed his phone, snapping a photo of Minho in the chair and a second of his own partly eaten sandwich, posting a quick private story with a hastily thrown together caption about getting a man who brings you lunch.

Minho’s mood seemed to dip slightly, though there was no way to actually tell, since he just continued to eat his lunch in silence. But Jisung could feel it. The shift in the energy. He seemed bummed, though his facial expression hadn’t faltered.

“What’s wrong?”

Minho glanced up, blinking in surprise, “What?”

“You seem sad now.”

“I’m doing the same thing I was doing two minutes ago.”

“I know,” Jisung shrugged. He wasn’t sure how to explain it. Nothing had changed, yet everything had. “I can just feel it.”

Minho stared at him and then let out a small laugh. The mood lifted, “That’s crazy.”

“Was I wrong?”

“No. But I can’t believe you noticed.”

“I guess I’m just that in tune to you,” Jisung dug into the lunch bag, missing the sadness that settled over Minho’s face. By the time he reemerged with Felix’s brownie, Minho’s expression had returned to neutral. “Did you try one? When you were at the apartment?”

Minho shook his head, so Jisung snapped the brownie in half and held it out to Minho.

“It’s okay. Felix sent that for you.”

“I can have his brownies whenever. I just have to pout and he’ll make them for me. But you haven’t tried them before. They’ll change your life.” When Minho didn’t reach for it Jisung lashed out with his foot, kicking the older boy gently in the shin over and over as he chanted, “Eat it. Eat it. Eat it.”

“Fine, bossy pants,” Minho huffed, taking the brownie from Jisung. “Stop kicking me before you give me a bruise.”

“I’ll just kiss it better if I do,” Jisung said, flippantly, his words not registering to himself until they were already out of his mouth. Both boys froze and Jisung wondered if Minho was also experiencing a panicked replay of the night before in his mind. Jisung shoved his half of the brownie in his mouth and hoped he’d choke.

Luckily Minho didn’t bring it up, just took a bite of his own brownie. Jisung watched as his eyes went wide, “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“I was not.”

Minho polished off the rest of the brownie in seconds and Jisung felt bad for not letting him have the whole thing. 

“So about Felix being single…”

“Hey!” Jisung laughed, kicking out at Minho again. The older boy caught his ankle easily, his fingers wrapping around the denim of Jisung’s jeans as he flailed around, trying to free his leg. Minho’s grip held tight and they were still fighting, breathless and giggling, when Jisung’s next client walked in.

Minho immediately unwound his fingers from Jisung’s ankle, shooting to his feet with burning ears and an apology.

“Sorry, Mr. Han. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“All good,” Jisung smiled at the girl, hopping down from his desk. “We just lost track of time. Why don’t you get settled in while I walk him out?”

She nodded and Jisung put his hand on Minho’s back, ushering him out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind them.

“I’m so sorry,” Minho was chewing on his bottom lip, looking as apologetic as Jisung had ever seen him. “I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble.”

“Most of the kids know I’m gay,” Jisung said lightly. “They don’t care. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jisung held out his arms, an open invitation, and Minho only hesitated for a second before shuffling into them, letting Jisung wrap him in a hug, “Thank you for bringing me my glasses. And lunch.”

“You’re welcome.” Minho pulled back, his hand trailing gently over Jisung’s hip as it fell, “Thanks for sharing.”

“Of course. I’ll, um, text you later, okay?”

Minho nodded and Jisung gave him one last smile before he reached for the door knob and slipped back into his office.

-

“Will you be the Hachi to my Nana?” Jisung had been sitting on the question since he’d invited Minho to Changbin’s Halloween party. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous to ask Minho. It wasn’t technically a couple's costume. And even if it was, well, they were supposed to be a couple.

“Sure,” Minho’s response was light, automatic. He didn’t look up from the pot he was stirring on the stove.

“Oh.”

“Were you expecting resistance?”

“I guess.” Jisung wasn’t sure why. He hooked his fingers around the edge of the counter, watching as his socked heels knocked off the wood of Minho’s cabinet. “I already have an outfit I can wear.” He would have been going as Nana regardless of Minho’s answer. “But I can help you shop if you need it.”

“What do I need? A white dress?”

The sound of Jisung’s heel hitting the cabinet at an awkward angle rang loudly through the kitchen and he knew his face must be burning, “You’ll wear a dress?”

“Isn’t that what she wears?” Minho twisted the knob on the stove, turning the burner off as he switched his attention to Jisung. “It’s Halloween, I don’t care.”

“Then yeah. White dress, black turtleneck, and black knee high socks.”

“Easy enough,” Minho hummed, transferring the pot of stew to a cool burner. “Can you set the table?”

“Already done.” It was kind of crazy, when Jisung thought about it, how simply and easily he’d fit into Minho’s life, and Minho into his. He was supposed to be paying him to go on a date or two a month, not spending so much time in his apartment that he knew where everything was kept, knew which spoon Minho found to be more acceptable than the others. This was the third day in a row Jisung had been here for dinner.

Jisung pushed himself off the counter, landing lightly on his feet and grabbing the bowls he’d set out, carrying them over to Minho and placing them next to the stove. Minho hummed his thanks, ladling the steaming stew into the bowls as Jisung poured them each a glass of water.

Jisung carried the glasses to the table and set them in front of their chosen spots, sinking down into his seat as Minho brought the full bowls over. 

Jisung watched the small silver cat paw charm around Minho’s neck dangle as he leaned over to put Jisung’s dinner in front of him, the necklace a belated birthday gift from Jisung. He hadn’t been sure Minho would like it, not as into accessories as Jisung was. But he’d been delighted when he’d unwrapped it, instantly turning around and bending his head so Jisung could clasp it around his neck. He hadn’t seen him without it since.

Minho sank down into his own seat, smiling a little when he saw that Jisung had set his spot with his favorite spoon. It was slightly smaller and heavier than the other ones in his cutlery drawer, and Jisung had instantly realized it must be special. Minho hadn’t needed to say a word.

Sometimes, when sleep evaded him and he was alone with his thoughts for too long, Jisung found himself stuck on how well he knew Minho and how quickly he’d grown to understand him. He wondered if Minho ever had similar thoughts, if his brain swirled with the possibilities of what could be. Of what would never be. 

Jisung shoved a spoonful of stew in his mouth, the burn distracting him from the thoughts he tried to keep buried down. Minho looked at him with concern, blowing gently on his own spoonful of stew, but Jisung just gulped down some water and shoveled some more meat into his mouth. 

“Does Changbin know you invited me to his party?”

“Yeah,” Jisung took another large sip of water. “Not that he would have noticed anyway. It always draws a huge crowd.”

Minho nodded. Jisung could feel there was another question waiting to be asked, so he paused on eating, watching Minho until he felt comfortable enough to say it.

“Can we talk about your boundaries again? For the party? Things have gotten…” he waved his hand vaguely, but Jisung understood. The rules had been blurred lately.

Jisung tapped his spoon against the side of his bowl, thinking. It was a party. People were going to be drunk. There was going to be kissing and groping and people hooking up in Changbin’s guest bedrooms. It would be weird if Jisung and his supposed date weren’t acting close.

“No dick touching. Anything else is fair game.”

Minho’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, “Anything?”

Jisung’s thoughts drifted to that dangerous place, to the kiss that had happened just feet from where they were currently sitting. He shut them down and nodded, “It’s a party. Would be weird if we weren’t all over each other.”

“Okay.”

It was going to be the first time since their staged ‘first’ meeting that Minho and Jisung would be together in front of Jisung’s friends. He knew he wouldn’t have a problem acting like he was into Minho, but maybe Minho would need a break, “We can do a safe word, if you want. If you need a break from acting like you’re into me.”

Minho scoffed lightly at the word acting, but Jisung didn’t allow himself to read into it. That was another dangerous path.

“Changbin knows. That it’s not real. Not that I think we’ll get any one on one time with him, but if we do. You don’t have to pretend in front of him.”

“Okay,” Minho’s voice was smaller this time. A little more distant. “Can the safe word be cat?”

“Cat works.” Jisung returned to his meal, the stew now a comfortable temperature to eat. Minho was fiddling with the charm of his necklace, lost in his thoughts. “I can drive, if you want. I usually crash at Bin’s, but I probably won’t be drinking this year so I can drive you home if you don’t want to sleep over.”

Jisung was too afraid to drink around Minho. Afraid of the things he might do. The things he might say. The truths that he wouldn’t be able to take back.

“I’ll do whatever you want to do, Jisungie,” Minho’s eyes were soft as they looked at him. “I’m all yours.”

-

Minho’s eyes were huge as they pulled through the gate of Changbin’s estate, Jisung familiar and unphased by the long winding driveway that led to the stately home.

“Where the hell are we? Who the hell is your friend?” Jisung laughed, “Insane, right? His parents are like tech billionaires or something. Bin’s a rapper.”

“This is crazy,” Minho’s hands were glued to the window of Jisung’s car, peering out at the dusk kissed property. “I can’t believe someone actually lives here. It looks like a park.”

“Bin has an apartment in the city where he stays most of the time. Usually we just come out here for parties, since there’s no one around for miles.”

The house came into view and Minho gasped again, though Jisung wasn’t sure if it was at the size of the house or the over-the-top theatrical Halloween decorations.

“Bin’s super chill though,” Jisung followed the driveway around the back of the house, to where he and Changbin’s other friends were permitted to park. He saw Hyunjin’s car was already there. Felix had mentioned carpooling, so all three of his other friends were probably already inside, though the party wasn’t meant to start for at least another hour or two. 

Jisung parked, climbing out of the car and adjusting his costume. It wasn’t much of a departure from his normal clothes, black jeans, a black and white striped shirt under a cropped black tank top. He had a choker around his neck and some chains dangling from his belt loop and he grabbed his guitar from the back seat, slinging it over his shoulder. He’d probably ditch it in Changbin’s room before the party started, but it completed the look.

He hurried around to the passenger’s side of the car, tugging the door open for Minho. The older boy stepped out of the car, wobbling a little in the thick white platforms he’d borrowed from Jisung. 

Jisung offered him his arm and Minho grabbed it, clinging to Jisung’s bicep as he attempted to find his balance. He hadn’t bothered with a wig, but he’d dyed his hair lighter, claiming he’d been meaning to change it anyway. It looked so good that Jisung hadn’t been able to speak for the first 20 minutes of the hour and a half drive out to Changbin’s.

Minho adjusted his headband and tugged his socks higher over his knees, still latched onto Jisung’s arm for balance as he lifted each foot off the ground one at a time. Once he was satisfied, he smoothed his hand over the full skirt of his dress and nodded, “I’m ready.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Brat,” Minho shoved at Jisung with his free hand, wobbling a bit himself since he was still attached to Jisung. Jisung laughed as Minho’s free arm shot out in an attempt to balance himself, earning a death glare. It didn’t have quite the same effect as normal when Minho was looking that pretty, and Jisung told him as much.

Minho’s ears burned and he busied himself with his skirt again, though he’d just smoothed it out seconds before. Jisung’s eyes roamed over him, unabashed with his staring. Though Minho was almost fully covered (just a hint of his thighs peeking out between his socks and skirt), there was something incredibly sexy about him in that outfit. Jisung found himself glad that he’d get to be all over Minho tonight, because if he wasn’t, he knew there would be plenty of other people who’d try to be. 

“Come on,” Jisung tugged on Minho’s arm, leading him towards Changbin’s back door as Minho released his bicep in favor of locking their elbows together. The faint pulse of bass came from the house, though it was tame compared to what it would be shortly. Jisung knew his friends were probably pregaming, and he had no interest in getting drunk, but he wanted them to properly meet Minho before they were all too far gone. 

The two boys headed inside, following the music and the faint sound of voices into the kitchen, where Jisung’s friends were crowded around the island, sipping from red cups and laughing at something Hyunjin was saying.

Changbin noticed the first, his eyes flicking to Minho, then to their entwined arms, before landing on Jisung. He offered them a lazy salute, returning his attention to Hyunjin’s story as Felix gasped.

“Oh my god, Minho, you look so pretty!”

Minho preened a little, though he smoothed his hands over his skirt again, a new nervous habit for Jisung to file away in the ever growing ‘things about Minho’ section of his brain. Jisung unhooked their elbows, choosing instead to slot his fingers with Minho’s and tug him towards the group.

“Nice to meet you again,” Jeongin held up his drink, toasting it towards Minho before downing whatever mystery liquid was in there. “Jisung talks about you enough, surprised he hasn’t brought you around before tonight.”

“He hasn’t brought him around because he’s been too busy hanging out at his place,” Hyunjin mumbled. Jisung winced. He’d canceled dinner plans with Hyunjin twice this month. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his other friends, it was just that he wasn’t sure how long Minho was actually going to tolerate him before he decided just hanging out once or twice a month would be more than sufficient for their scheme. Jisung had to take advantage while he could.

“Sorry, Jinnie,” Jisung made his way over to Hyunjin, offering him a one armed hug, his other hand still holding tight to Minho’s. “I’ve been a shit friend.”

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin ducked out of the way of the neck of Jisung’s guitar, which he’d completely forgotten was on his back. He removed it and leaned it against the island, tugging Minho into his side as he got comfortable. “Honeymoon phase, I get it.”

“Drinks?” Changbin was already switching into host mode, a bottle of vodka in one hand and tequila in the other as he looked at Jisung and Minho. Jisung shook his head, one arm resting on the island countertop and the other one going around Minho, holding him close as Minho shyly asked if Changbin had any hard seltzer.

Jisung had decided he was going to allow himself this one night. One night to forget that it wasn’t real. One night where he was going to touch Minho when he wanted and let himself believe. He was blatantly ignoring the fact that he’d told himself the same thing earlier in the week, when he’d crossed the line and kissed Minho in his dark kitchen, but this was different. Or so he was telling himself.

Changbin crossed to the fridge, pulling open the industrial sized door and revealing a stock of alcohol, snagging a blackberry seltzer and returning to the island, sliding it across the Minho. Minho accepted it with a thank you, popping the tab and taking a long drag as Jisung tuned in to what his friends were talking about.

“He’s so hot,” Felix sighed dreamily, his eyes lost in memories of whoever he was talking about. He was dressed as an angel, his face shimmery and his body wrapped in sheer white. “He’s so buff. And he’s Australian!”

Next to Jisung, Minho choked, coughing as they all turned to him in concern. Jisung moved his hand from his waist to his back, soothing as Minho continued to cough, finally catching his breath enough to ask, “Are you talking about Chan?”

Jisung’s eyes went wide, panicked as he turned to Felix. His best friend was bright, nodding happily, “He slid into my DMs.”

Jisung and Minho made eye contact and Jisung dropped his arm from Minho’s body completely, stepping back and grabbing the older boy by the wrist, “We’ll be right back.” Hyunjin and Jeongin looked confused, but Felix just shrugged, slipping right back into his story as Jisung dragged Minho from the room. He tugged him down the hallway, pushing into the formal dining room before shutting the door and dropping Minho’s arm, “What the fuck? I thought you were going to tell him Felix was taken!”

“I didn’t know!” Minho’s gaze was just as horrified as Jisung’s. “He never brought it up again.”

“This is so messy,” Jisung groaned, running his hands through his hair as Minho fiddled with his cat charm, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth.

“Is it though?” Jisung dropped his hands, blinking at Minho, “What?”

“I mean…Chan’s not gonna tell. And we still have seven months of this. Our friends were bound to meet eventually. Plus, we’ll still be friends, right? When it’s over?” Minho’s gaze was a little vulnerable, his fingers wrapped protectively around Jisung’s present, “I don’t want you to just go away.”

Jisung honestly hadn’t thought about that. Minho had become such a large part of his life in such a short time that it seemed impossible to think about a time when he wouldn’t be there, “Yeah, of course.”

Minho relaxed slightly at that, his hand falling from his necklace and reaching for Jisung’s, “Then it’s fine. Come on, let’s go back before they get suspicious.”

Jisung let Minho tangle their fingers together, following the older boy back to the kitchen. No one made a comment about their sudden exit and Jisung settled back against the island, tucking Minho into his side again. He stole a small sip of the older boy’s seltzer, passing it back over to Minho before fixing his attention on Changbin.

“What the hell are you supposed to be anyway?”

Changbin glanced down at himself, at his bare chest, and shrugged, “Boxer or something?”

“You don’t even know?”

Changbin shrugged again, throwing back his own drink, “Hyunjin picked it.”

Jisung’s attention switched to his other friend, who was looking quite pleased with himself and Changbin’s exposed muscles, “He is a boxer. You’re supposed to have boxing gloves.”

“They’re upstairs somewhere. It’s not practical to wear them.”

“I can wrap your wrists to make it more believable if you want,” Minho offered. “I box.”

“You what?” Jisung’s jaw dropped, turning to Minho in surprise. 

Minho laughed, making a muscle, though the effect was negated by his long sleeved shirt and pretty dress, “Did you think I got these arms from dancing?”

Jisung hadn’t given it too much thought at all, honestly. He just knew Minho’s body was perfect, he hadn’t thought about how he’d gotten it there. 

“You should come with me sometime. Put those muscles to use.”

“Ew,” Jeongin cringed, throwing an empty crumpled cup in Minho’s direction. “Don’t make me think about Jisung’s muscles.” Jisung had Jeongin in a headlock seconds later, his younger friend laughing as he tried to escape, the atmosphere light and happy.

Jisung smiled at Minho from across the island, Jeongin’s head still tucked under his arm, and Minho shook his head slightly, grinning back, the prettiest thing Jisung had ever seen.

-

“I’m going to get some air,” Jisung screamed into Minho’s ear, his hands falling from the older boy’s waist. They were pressed together in Changbin’s crowded living room, the noise and crush of bodies finally getting to Jisung. He’d been having fun, dancing with Minho, having Minho in his arms, but he was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Minho’s lips brushed the shell of Jisung’s ear as he tried to make himself heard, his hands still resting softly on Jisung’s shoulders. Jisung shook his head. It was obvious how much fun Minho was having dancing, not just with Jisung but with Jisung’s other friends as well, and he didn’t want to take that away from the older boy.

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes. Go dance with Felix.”

Felix was a few feet away, his angel wings long discarded and his halo tipping sloppily to one side. His eyes were closed as his head was tilted backwards, unfamiliar hands on his hips. He opened his eyes, as if he felt Jisung’s stare, and grinned, pulling away the stranger he was dancing with to make his way to his friends.

“What’s up?” he screamed, his eyes unfocused, clearly on the far side of tipsy.

“I’m going outside,” Jisung yelled, reaching for Minho’s wrist and passing it over to Felix. “Dance with Minho.”

“Okay!” Felix happily agreed, immediately reaching for Minho’s waist. Jisung tried not to get jealous. Minho wasn’t his. And even if he was, Felix wasn’t interested in him. Besides, Jisung was the one who’d told them to dance together. 

He really needed to clear his head.

Jisung pushed through the crush of bodies, dodging body parts until he finally stumbled out the patio doors, though the party had spilled out here as well. Jisung made his way deeper into the dark, sinking down underneath a tree that was close enough to still hear the music from the house but far enough away for him to be alone.

He dropped his head into his hands and took a few deep breaths, letting the crisp night air bring him back to reality. The night was going well, really well, and Jisung had found himself fighting the urge to kiss Minho more times than he could count. He knew that he’d removed the rules for tonight, but he was afraid of what breaching them would mean for them tomorrow, and the next day, and for the next seven months. It was better to save kissing for emergencies only, Jisung had decided as the night wore on, still haunted by the chaste kiss in Minho’s kitchen. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive a real one.

“Are you okay?”

Jisung lifted his head at the unfamiliar voice, a concerned partygoer dressed like a vampire standing over him.

Jisung nodded, “Fine. Just needed some air.”

The man hesitated, then gestured towards Jisung’s outfit, “Nana?”

No one else had recognized who he was supposed to be and Jisung lit up, happy someone finally understood, “Yes! You’ve watched it?”

The man nodded, then gestured to the grass next to Jisung, “Can I sit with you?”

“Sure,” Jisung scooted over slightly as the man sat down, making sure to keep a decent bit of space between them. They fell into easy conversation, first about Nana and then about other animes they liked, and Jisung wasn’t sure how long they’d been out there before he remembered Minho and his other friends.

“Shit, I should probably be getting back inside before my friends think I got murdered.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Jaehyun’s voice dropped a little, shier, softer, “Um, would it be cool if I got your number?’

“I have a boyfriend.”

The answer came out automatically, without thought, and Jisung didn’t think anything of it as Jaehyun apologized and got to his feet, slipping off into the darkness of the night.

“Why did you do that?”

That voice was familiar, and Jisung turned to see Minho standing a few feet away, his eyes confused as he stared at Jisung.

“Do what?”

“Lie to him. He liked you.”

“When did I lie to him?”

Minho blinked at him, his hand drifting towards his necklace. He fiddled with it, grounding himself before answering, “When you said you had a boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Jisung hadn’t even realized. “Well, I mean, you are my boyfriend. Until June.”

“Maybe you could have had a real one.”

Jisung didn’t want a boyfriend that wasn’t Minho. The force of that thought shocked him, even though he’d been dancing around it all month. He couldn’t share that with Minho though. Minho, who was being paid to act like he was into Jisung. Minho, who was just supposed to be a means to an end. Minho, who was staring at him with a look that Jisung for once couldn’t read.

Jisung just shrugged, getting to his feet and brushing the grass off the back of his pants, “How long were you standing there?”

“Pretty much the whole time. You guys were getting along really well.”

“Yeah.” They had been. Jaehyun was easy to talk to and they had a lot in common. But Jisung wasn’t interested. “Ready to go back inside?”

Minho was still staring at him with that look, his eyes searching Jisung’s face as if he was looking for an answer. Jisung stared back, not sure what Minho was looking for.

Whatever it was, he must have found it, because the next thing Jisung knew, there was a hot mouth on his and Minho’s body was in his arms.

Jisung was surprised by the force of the kiss, his hands firm on Minho’s hips as Minho pressed them against the thick trunk of the tree, one hand tilting Jisung’s jaw up and the other tangled in his dark hair. 

It was nothing like the quiet emotional kiss in Minho’s kitchen. This one burned, the heat of Minho’s body flush against Jisung’s, the sharp bark of the tree digging into his back as Minho pressed closer. Minho’s mouth was insistent, his tongue forcing its way into Jisung’s until he fought back, arching up under Minho’s touch and meeting him halfway. It was sloppy and messy, alive with want, a kiss that had one single purpose.

Minho’s hand moved from Jisung’s hair to his waist, then to his thigh, trailing closer to the one thing that was forbidden.

Jisung twisted his head, breaking the kiss, “Cat! Cat!”

Minho jerked back like he’d been shot, leaving Jisung gasping against the tree, his heartbeat loud in his ears as Minho stared at him in pure horror.

“S-sorry,” Jisung struggled to catch his breath, his chest heaving. “You were getting too close.”

Something twisted on Minho’s face and Jisung knew he’d done something wrong. He just wasn’t sure what.

“I thought you…” Minho’s voice grew quieter, trailing off before he could finish his sentence. He shook his head, smoothed his hands over his skirt and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m drunk. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jisung had been with him all night. He knew Minho hadn’t had anything to drink since the single can of blackberry hard seltzer when they first arrived. But if he wanted to lie to protect his dignity, Jisung wasn’t going to call him out on it.

He was confused though. Why had Minho kissed him, here alone in the dark of Changbin’s backyard? Inside, in front of Jisung’s friends, on the dance floor where everyone was getting loose, that would have made sense. But here?

“Are you horny?” Jisung blurted, then instantly regretted the question. It’s not like he was going to do anything about it. But there were a lot of people in various states of undress, and there had been a lot of touching going on out on the dance floor. Maybe Minho just wanted to get off.

The look Minho gave him was another one that Jisung couldn’t read. He was off his game tonight. He usually understood Minho so well.

“You offering?”

Jisung shook his head. The other rules might have fallen, but he wasn’t letting that one go. There’d be no coming back once they crossed that line.

“Then no.” Another answer Jisung couldn’t decipher. Maybe he was drunk, even though he hadn’t touched any alcohol besides his one sip from Minho’s can, hours ago. Maybe he was drunk by osmosis or some shit. 

Jisung pushed off the tree, angling himself towards the house, “Let’s go back in.”

He took a few steps before he realized Minho wasn’t following him, turning around with a question in his eyes. Minho was just standing there, looking defeated, and Jisung made his way back over to him.

“Hey. I’m not like, mad at you, or anything. For kissing me.” Jisung needed Minho to know that, not wanting one lapse in judgement to break down their relationship. “Or judging you, if you are horny. There’s some really hot dudes here.”

“There’s only one person here I’m interested in,” Minho mumbled, not looking at Jisung.

“Oh.” Now Jisung felt bad. Minho couldn’t go after who he wanted because he was stuck playing pretend with Jisung. “I’m sorry that I’m keeping you from them.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Minho’s laugh was completely void of amusement, his head tipping back so he could look up at the night sky. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

Maybe Jisung was overtired. He hadn’t slept great the night before. He didn’t understand what Minho was saying. 

“Can we go back inside?” Jisung’s voice was small now. He knew he was missing something, something important, and he knew it was hurting Minho. But he wasn’t sure what it was.

“Yeah,” Minho sighed. “Let’s go back inside.”

Jisung offered his hand, but Minho didn’t take it.

-

Jisung collapsed on Changbin’s bed, his arm draping his face as he groaned. It was closer to sun-up then sun-down and a bone deep tiredness had seeped into him. The party was finally over, though there were still drunk guests scattered across the house, and Jisung and his friends had retired to the safety of Changbin’s childhood bedroom.

“Pajamas if you want them,” Changbin tossed a few pairs of sweatpants onto the bed, but nobody reached for them. Felix was already passed out, his glittery makeup getting all over Changbin’s pillowcase. Hyunjin was on the floor, leaning against the bed, his costume shed and his eyes barely open. He’d been dressed as some long dead artist, but Jisung had forgotten who. Jeongin was in the bathroom and Minho hoovered near the doorway, his hands twisted in the fabric of his skirt.

Things had settled into a less awkward place, after they’d returned to the dance floor and Felix’s bright energy, but Jisung still felt like something was off. 

Jisung sat up, reaching for the hem of his shirt and tugging it over his head, tossing it somewhere into the corner of Changbin’s room. He undid his choker next, then lifted his hips and peeled his tight jeans off his legs, throwing them towards where he’d discarded his shirt. Then he collapsed back down on the bed, already moving to spoon Felix’s sleeping body.

Changbin coughed, loud, pointedly, and Jisung froze, twisting his head to look at him. Changbin quirked an eyebrow, then subtly nodded his head to where Minho was still standing near the doorway.

Oh right. Jisung’s boyfriend.

Jisung rolled away from Felix and stood up, stumbling over to where Minho was. 

“Come to sleep,” Jisung blinked at him blearily, his eyelids beginning to lose their fight with gravity. “...’m tired.”

Jeongin had exited the bathroom and was beginning to spread blankets out on the floor, Changbin tossing spare pillows at him as Hyunjin crawled towards the nest Jeongin was making.

“There’s enough room for all three of us on the bed,” Jisung reached for Minho’s wrist. “The others will sleep on the floor.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding. You’re more than welcome.”

“Okay,” Minho’s voice was quiet, barely heard over the noise of the three on the floor getting comfy in their makeshift bed. “Can you help me with my dress?”

“Of course.”

Minho turned, exposing the zipper on his back. Jisung undid it slowly, trying not to think about undressing Minho in other circumstances. He wasn’t wearing enough clothes to hide the problem those thoughts would cause.

Minho stepped out of the dress once it was unzipped, the white fabric pooling around his feet. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged off his socks, Jisung’s heavy eyes following the movement of his hands as they revealed his pretty legs. Minho dropped the socks on top of the dress, but didn’t move for the hem of his turtleneck.

Oh, right.

Jisung stumbled over to Changbin’s dresser, digging around until he found a random oversized t-shirt, bringing it back to Minho without a word.

Minho blinked at the offering, then up at Jisung, his gaze soft under his eyelashes, “Thanks.”

Jisung nodded, turning his head as Minho stripped. He hadn’t been shy in front of Jisung for a while, but tonight was weird, so Jisung gave him his privacy, though the room was dark enough that no one would have been able to make out his scar anyway. But Jisung wanted him to be comfortable.

Minho’s turtleneck joined the rest of his clothes on the floor and Jisung climbed into the bed, slipping under the covers. Felix was passed out on top of them, curled with his back facing where Jisung settled. Minho hesitated for a second before joining Jisung under the blankets, sticking to the edge of the bed as he did his best to get comfy in the small space.

Jisung turned his back to Felix and reached out an arm, wrapping it around Minho’s middle. Jisung tugged Minho forcefully into his body, curling around him as Minho froze. Jisung nuzzled his face into the back of the older boy’s neck, feeling the cold metal of his necklace on his nose, “Good night.”

“I should be the big spoon.”

Jisung was too tired for philosophical discussions, or whatever this was, so he just hummed into Minho’s skin, “Next time.”

Minho kept quiet, his stomach rising and falling under the palm of Jisung’s hand. The younger boy breathed in deeply, noticing something, “Your cologne is different.”

The scent was sweeter, leaning towards vanilla and not the deep woodsy scent Jisung had grown used to. It smelled delicious, and he pressed his face further into Minho’s damp skin, “Smells good.”

“Thank you,” Minho’s hand ghosted over where Jisung’s rested on his stomach, then seemingly came to a decision. He wrapped his fingers around Jisung’s hand, tugging it up over his own arm so that it rested on his chest, tucking him more securely into Jisung’s hold. “I thought it would go better with my outfit.”

“You looked so pretty tonight, with your new hair,” Jisung mumbled, his lips loose in the dark of the night. “Made me speechless.”

“I thought you hated it,” Minho huffed out a laugh, his fingers playing with Jisung’s. “Since you didn’t say anything. I was gonna dye it back when we got home.”

“Don’t,” Jisung whined. “Looks so good.”

“Okay.”

Satisfied and sleepy, Jisung pressed a kiss to the base of Minho’s neck, “Good night, my pretty baby.”

Minho’s breath hitched, loud in the quiet of the dark room, but Jisung was already lost to sleep.

-

Jisung groaned to consciousness the next morning, a heavy weight on his arm keeping him from rolling over and stretching. He slowly opened his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering, and was met with the sight of pale skin. He withdrew his face from Minho’s neck, the older boy still fast asleep and clinging to Jisung, his chest rising and falling under Jisung’s palm.

Jisung found himself wishing Minho had fallen asleep facing him, so Jisung could admire his beautiful features without fear of being caught, but this was nice too. He nuzzled his nose into Minho’s hair, drawing in a breath and the scent of vanilla. He briefly recalled a conversation about Minho changing his cologne, but the specifics were lost to his sleep-addled brain. 

A soft noise came from the boy in his arms and Minho shifted, rolling over to press his face against Jisung’s bare chest, “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Jisung yawned, his arm now free from Minho’s hold. He wrapped it around the older boy’s lower back, flipping them so Minho was on top of him and Jisung was on his back, blinking up into Minho’s heavy lidded eyes. “Did you sleep okay?”

They were closer than they’d ever been, apart from the two times they’d kissed, and Jisung found his eyes dropping to Minho’s lips. His brain was still clinging to sleep and his thoughts were a little looser, a little more uninhibited than they probably should be,

Jisung wasn’t sure if anyone else was awake. Wasn’t sure if anyone else was still in the room. If they were, they probably weren’t looking at Minho and Jisung. 

Jisung kissed him anyway.

It was self-indulgent and stupid and Jisung knew he’d spend the hour and half drive home berating himself for doing it, for blurring the lines once again. But right now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Jisung’s hands slipped under Minho’s borrowed shirt, soothing up and down his sleep warmed skin as Minho’s lips parted beneath his own. It lacked the heat of the night before, but also the uncertainty of their first kiss. It was slow and sleepy, comfortable in its familiarity, though it wasn’t something they should be familiar with. Jisung’s fingers trailed over Minho’s ribs, then back down to his hip, following the pattern over and over as Minho shifted, perching over Jisung instead of lying directly on top of him. His hands pressed into the pillow on either side of Jisung’s head, his mouth warm and pliant.

The door opened and Hyunjin’s voice startled them apart, “Hey, lovebirds, food’s ready.”

The door clicked shut as quickly as it’d opened and Minho sat up, now directly on top of Jisung’s lap as the blankets gathered around his hips. He was flushed and confused, blinking down at the younger boy. Jisung’s hands were still on Minho’s sides, his t-shirt ruched up to reveal an intoxicating amount of skin, and Jisung drunk in the sight hungrily, his morals and boundaries and rules forgotten.

“What was that for?”

Jisung shrugged. He had done it because he wanted to. But he couldn’t tell Minho that, “Add it to my bill.”

Minho blinked at him, slow and feline, then shook his head, his lips quirking, “You’re so stupid.”

“So you’ve told me.”

Jisung let his hands drop to Minho’s hips, holding him in place as he sat up himself, until they were face to face again. 

This time, Minho kissed him. 

One arm wound its way around Jisung’s neck, his fingers slipping into the younger boy’s long hair. The other rested on Jisung’s bare chest, right above his stuttering heart. Jisung’s hands made their way under Minho’s shirt again, splayed out across his back as they lazily made out.

“Oh, what the fuck, dudes.” It was Jeongin this time, and he was not as nonchalant as Hyunjin had been about finding them in a compromising position. “Put it back in your pants and come eat. Bin’s parents are going to be home soon, we gotta dip.”

“No one’s dick is out,” Jisung reached blindly behind him for a pillow, throwing it vaguely in the direction of Jeongin’s voice. “But, okay, we’re coming.”

He heard a cackle and Jisung screamed after Jeongin’s retreating back, “Not like that!”

“We could be, if you wanted,” Minho murmured, his eyes heavy and half lidded as they searched Jisung’s. They were looking for something, the same way they’d been looking for something the night before, and Jisung hoped he had the right answer this time.

“Do you…” Jisung swallowed hard, afraid of his next words. His eyes focused on the cat paw that dangled around Minho’s neck instead of the older boy’s face, too scared of what he would find there. “Do you actually like me?”

“Took you long enough.”

Jisung wasn’t sure who moved first this time, but it didn’t matter. They were finally on the same page. Minho’s tongue licked hungrily into his mouth and Jisung’s fingers dug into Minho’s bare skin, heavy and bruising as Minho keened into his mouth, panting and needy, his hips grinding down against Jisung’s.

“Wait!” Jisung pushed him back, chest heaving. “We’re not fucking in Bin’s childhood bedroom. I have some standards.”

Minho laughed, swinging his leg off of Jisung’s lap and tugging his borrowed shirt down over his crotch as he stood. Jisung had no such luxury to help hide his arousal, and Minho’s eyes flicked down, then back up to Jisung’s face. He reached out, slowly, cautiously, waiting for Jisung to stop him.

Jisung didn’t, watching him as Minho very lightly pressed his palm to Jisung’s crotch, then snatched it away, a bright smile on his face when Jisung didn’t yell at him, “I touched your dick. Is it real now?”

“You’re stupid.”

Minho scoffed, “Look who’s talking.”

Minho had a point.

“Have you liked me this whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Jisung blinked. “Since the coffee shop?”

“Since the coffee shop,” Minho confirmed. He grabbed one of the spare pairs of sweatpants Changbin had left on the bed, then tossed a pair over to Jisung. “Thought I ruined it when I tried to take you home for real that first night.”

“Sorry, I’m dense,” Jisung slipped out of the bed and tugged on the pants, his cheeks flushed.

“I know,” Minho huffed, but he didn’t look upset. He was still grinning, his eyes on Jisung. “I wasn’t sure you were ever going to figure it out. I was starting to think I might really have to spend eight months ‘pretending’ to be into you. Which was an absolutely insane plan by the way.”

“Hey!” Jisung snatched up the pillow he hadn’t thrown at Jeongin and threw it at Minho, the older boy easily ducking out of the way with a laugh. “You agreed to it! Even before you knew I was hot!”

“Curiosity got the best of me. I had to see what kind of crazy person would suggest an eight month fake relationship to get out of a bet their friend probably didn’t even remember."

“You underestimate the evil powers of Kim Seungmin.”

-

“You’re joking, right?”

Felix’s eyes jumped from Jisung’s to Minho’s, then over to Changbin’s.

“I’m not.”

“Why are you like this?” Jeongin groaned, dropping his head down to the counter as Hyunjin began to laugh, doubling over as he gasped for breath. “You’re so stupid, oh my god.”

“What?” Jisung crossed his arms defensively over his chest, looking to his (real) boyfriend for support. His bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout, “I thought it was a good plan.”

“It was a great plan, baby,” Minho assured him, though he’d echoed the same sentiment as Jeongin just twenty minutes ago. “Don’t listen to them.”

“And you!” Felix jabbed his finger into Minho’s chest. “You went along with it!”

“Well, look at him. Can you blame me?” “And you knew!”

Changbin held his hands up, innocence personified, “Don’t involve me in this. Jisung mentioned it one time.”

“I can’t believe you were willing to lie to us for eight months. Your best friends!”

“I’m sorry, Lixie,” Jisung knew Felix would be over it by the time they got back home, but he held his arms out for an apology hug anyway. “I wasn’t sure who was more loyal to Seungmin.”

“Literally none of us,” Jeongin rolled his eyes. “But I guess I admire the dedication.”

As he stood there in Changbin’s kitchen, surrounded by the people he loved the most, Jisung began to feel his own laughter bubble up, his happiness spilling over as he looked at Minho’s smiling face. 

“It was a pretty stupid plan, wasn’t it?”

Minho shrugged and Jisung tipped into him, Minho’s arms coming up to wrap securely around him as Jisung planted his chin on Minho’s chest, looking up at him through his lashes, “I do it a million times over if I got to end up with you every time.”

When Minho ducked down to kiss him, the whole room cheered. 

[minsung-archived]

HAN's random mission is… write a friendship letter to LEE KNOW (trans cr.)

[minsung-archived]

HAN vs. 🦎

[vminni]

Back to the Basics (Pt 4)

Minho leaned against the railing, the wind whipping through his sweaty hair as he stared out over Lake Michigan. He’d gone out for another early morning run, departing with a kiss to Jisung’s forehead and a promise to be back in an hour or two. Jisung had been awake, but barely, sleepily offering to come with Minho even as his eyes struggled to open. Minho had laughed and kissed his pillow-creased cheek, then stole a good morning kiss from his lips before telling him to go back to bed. Jisung immediately complied, and he was lightly snoring again before Minho had even finished changing into his workout clothes. 

The wind cut through him and he shivered slightly, but made no move to turn around and head back to the hotel. He’d barely seen any of the country he’d grown up in, and soon he might be leaving it for good. He might as well enjoy this view while he could.

Minho pushed the thoughts of South Korea to the back of his mind, not ready to start stressing about that yet. He and Jisung had yet to talk logistics, and Minho knew this move was going to require a lot of faith and trust in Jisung. It was going to be difficult, both the move itself and putting his everything in someone else’s hands, but if it was going to be anyone, Minho was glad it was Jisung. He just wasn’t sure Jisung was fully aware of what it would mean to move Minho completely across the world. Jisung was going back to his life. He had friends, family, a career, a place in the world. Minho had nothing but Jisung. He would be in a strange country, where they spoke a language he didn’t understand, trying to jump start a career he hadn’t even attempted in a place where he was comfortable. He hoped Jisung would be as patient with Minho settling in as he was with Minho trying to navigate their relationship. 

His biggest fear was that Jisung would find him to be a burden once they made it to South Korea.

Minho pushed away from the railing, turning his back on the water and shoving his hands in his pockets. He hated even thinking thoughts like that about Jisung, when he’d been nothing but kind and understanding with Minho. But the fear was still there. He knew he needed to talk to Jisung about it, to put everything out in the open, but they still had the better part of three weeks left. He wanted to just enjoy their time for now, to save the heavy conversations for a time closer to their departure.

Minho tugged his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. Jisung should be awake by now, and probably hungry for breakfast. Minho put his music back on and returned his phone to his pocket, lengthening his stride and beginning his run again. The pavement pounded under his sneakers, his heart and footfalls matching the beat of his music. Jisung’s pretty voice filled his ears, the language foreign to Minho but the emotion unmistakable. 

Jisung hadn’t asked Minho to check out his music, barely spoke about it at all, but Minho had spent a few of the nights at his own house with Jisung’s recorded voice in his ears as the real Jisung slept soundly next to him. Minho was enraptured, and he really wanted to talk to Jisung about his songwriting, but he was afraid he’d overstepped by looking Jisung up. Jisung was here because he was struggling with his music, and Minho didn’t want to bother him by badgering him with a million questions. He was incredibly excited for tonight, when he’d get to see Jisung perform for real for the first time in person. Minho wondered if he’d do his Korean songs, or if he’d stick to covers like he had the day he’d sung for Minho. Minho knew he’d love it regardless, but he really hoped Jisung would perform his own music. He wanted to experience the emotions he heard through his headphones in person.

Minho slowed to a jog as he reached the more congested street that their hotel was at the end of. Even early, the city was bustling with life. He ducked into the first coffee shop he saw, ordering two coffees and a muffin for Jisung, his pace slowing to a walk when he popped out again. He made his way back to the hotel and up to their room, banging his elbow on the door and hoping Jisung was awake to let him in so he didn’t have to adjust the way he was carrying the drinks to find his room key.

The door creaked open and Minho was met with a curious wide eye before Jisung recognized him and swung the door fully open. Minho slipped inside, setting the coffees and Jisung’s snack down on the dresser before he popped his airpods out of his ears, ready to chastise Jisung for opening the door without checking the peep hole first.

But Jisung had already found the muffin and taken a large bite, looking at Minho with those pretty eyes and full cheeks as Minho tossed his phone and headphones onto the bed. A face that cute couldn’t be scolded.

Jisung held the muffin out to Minho, offering him a bite, but he shook his head, “All yours, jagi.”

The Korean nickname was comfortable to him now, falling easily from his lips and painting Jisung’s face a pretty pink every time. This was no exception and a soft blush crept its way over his cheeks as he nibbled on his muffin. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” Minho made sure to press a kiss to Jisung’s warm cheek before he disappeared into the bathroom, not bothering to nudge the door shut as he stripped and stepped into the shower. He tugged the curtain closed and turned on the water, the initial spray shocking him with its frigidness before the temperature began to creep its way up. He was reaching for the shampoo when the curtain was drawn back, Jisung scrambling in to join him as Minho paused, his hand inches from the shampoo bottle.

“I needed to shower too,” Jisung offered, the blush still high on his cheeks. “Figured we’d save time.”

Minho had seen Jisung naked multiple times. Had touched and kissed and caressed every millimeter of his body. But there was something about this, about Jisung’s bare form inches away from his under the warm water of the shower, that felt more intimate than anything they’d done before.

“Okay,” Minho grabbed the shampoo, then wrapped his other hand around Jisung’s wrist, pulling him closer so he was fully under the water pouring from the showerhead. Minho let his wrist fall and brought the bottle of shampoo to Jisung’s wet hair, squirting a small amount onto his scalp before dropping the bottle and beginning to work the product in. Jisung was frozen under Minho’s touch, his neck bent to give the older boy better access to his head and one hand wrapped tightly around Minho’s bicep as he massaged in the suds that were beginning to form. 

Minho hummed happily, his fingers carding through Jisung’s wet hair, scratching at his scalp as Jisung’s eyelids fluttered a few times before his eyes finally drifted closed.

Minho took good care of him, carefully washing the shampoo from his hair before applying a small bit of conditioner, making sure to apply it just on the ends as Jisung remained soft and pliant under his touch. Minho soaped up the wash cloth next, lifting the arm that Jisung wasn’t holding onto him with and pressing a kiss to his palm before running the wash cloth over it. He continued that pattern, kissing his way up Jisung’s arm before cleaning it, then across his shoulders and chest and down his other arm, which still clung to Minho’s.

“Let me go so I can wash the rest of you, jagi,” Minho’s voice was soft, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment. Jisung complied, his eyes still shut as his arm fell to his side, freeing Minho from his hold. Minho kissed down his chest and stomach, squatting to press kisses to his slim thighs before running the wash cloth over his legs and feet. He had Jisung turn, then repeated the process up his back, finishing with a lingering kiss to Jisung’s neck, “All done.”

Jisung turned back around, his eyes open and holding the whole galaxy in them as he stared at Minho, skin flushed from the heat of the water and the heat of Minho’s affection. 

The kiss tasted the way Jisung’s songs made him feel, heartwrenching yet comforting, a yearning and love that Minho had never known before he’d met Jisung. He clung to the younger boy’s bare waist, Jisung’s arms curled around his neck in their now familiar place as Jisung’s mouth worked softly against his own. Despite the nakedness of their bodies and the way they pressed together, there was no heat, no arousal building in Minho’s gut. The kiss wasn’t a means to an end, it was a journey in itself, a ‘thank you’ and an ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

Minho kept his eyes closed for a beat longer after Jisung pulled away, long enough that when he fluttered his eyelashes open, Jisung was already reaching for the dropped bottle of shampoo. Minho watched him, studying the curve of his shoulder and the stretch of muscles in his arm and the weight of his chest. He was exquisite, beautifully built, yet small enough to fit perfectly in Minho’s arms. Minho reached out, his fingers trailing up Jisung’s tattoo, starting at his hip and working his way up his ribs. It was a familiar journey, one his fingers made every time he was lucky enough to be blessed with Jisung’s shirtless form, and it still had Jisung hitching his breath like it was the first time.

Minho glanced up at him at the noise, the older boy’s smile soft and a little starstuck as Jisung blinked down at him. He was never going to take for granted the privilege of getting to touch Jisung this way, the privilege of knowing Jisung wanted him to touch him this way. Minho couldn’t quite believe it himself, that the perfect being in front of him wanted Minho in every way, just as much as Minho wanted him.

“Y-your turn,” Jisung’s voice was a little raspy and he stumbled over the words a bit as Minho stared at him. His pretty honey skin was already pink from the heat of the shower, but it flushed deeper, “You get me all flustered when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Minho blinked. He hadn’t realized he was looking at Jisung in a particular way.

“Like I’m everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“You are.” The words were out before Minho could even process them, and he felt a small twinge of pride at himself for not shying away from the emotion.

Jisung smiled at him, dazzling and breathtaking, his fingers fiddling with the cap of the shampoo bottle. He put his free hand on Minho’s shoulder, nudging him down slightly as Jisung pressed up on his toes, giving himself better access to Minho’s hair. He worked the shampoo in, setting the bottle down on the edge of the tub as Minho closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy being taken care of.

Jisung touched him carefully, softly and slowly, his fingers trailing behind the wash cloth as he scrubbed it over Minho’s body. 

The water was beginning to cool when Jisung stepped back, dropping the washcloth and shutting off the shower as Minho blinked his eyes open. Minho tugged back the shower curtain, snagging a towel and wrapping it around Jisung with a hug before grabbing one for himself. He tied it around his waist, stepping out of the tub and holding out a hand for Jisung. The younger boy took it, letting Minho help him out as he joined him on the bath mat. Minho reached for another towel, running it over Jisung’s wet hair before draping it around his shoulders and ushering him over to the sink. His own hair dripped on his shoulders, but he didn’t mind, plugging in the hair dryer and turning it on Jisung, his hand running through Jisung’s soft locks as he took the bulk of the moisture out of his hair. Once he was satisfied that Jisung’s hair was dry enough, he switched to his own, watching in the fogged up mirror as Jisung leaned back into him, Minho’s free arm automatically circling his waist.

Once his own hair was dry he returned the hair dryer to its spot on the wall, wrapping his second arm around Jisung and rocking him back and forth, his chin resting on the damp towel around Jisung’s shoulders. Their silhouettes were blurred in the steamy mirror, conjoined. Minho liked the thought of that, of him and Jisung being one, and he pressed their cheeks together, holding him just a little bit tighter.

“What time is your open mic thing?”

“It starts at 7.”

Minho hummed in acknowledgement, finally unwrapping himself from Jisung and stepping back. He padded into the hotel room, squatting to dig through his suitcase for something to wear. His normal wardrobe of grease stained jeans and t-shirts felt a little out of place here in the city, but he didn’t have much else. He settled on a pair of black jeans and his cleanest white t-shirt, his father’s ring around his neck his only accessory. Jisung was getting dressed on the other side of the room, looking effortlessly cool in baggy cargo pants and a long sleeved white graphic shirt that nipped in at the waist and showed off his pretty shape. He shoved a beanie over his still slightly damp hair, and then got to work meticulously selecting his jewelry. Minho had never been one for accessories, but Jisung wore a lot, and he switched them around every day. The older boy found it fascinating, and he wandered over to Jisung’s side of the room as he dumped his case of jewelry out onto the table. 

Jisung started with a small silver cross around his neck, then slipped a few interesting looking snake rings onto his fingers, seemingly choosing them at random. He was more careful with his earrings, sorting through them slowly as he chewed on his bottom lip, trying to decide.

“I like the dangly ones,” Minho offered, even though Jisung hadn’t asked for his opinion. 

Jisung reached for a delicate chain, threading it into one of the holes in his left ear before complimenting it with a small cross stud, his right ear getting the matching stud. He turned his head to show Minho, looking for approval as he tilted his head and let the silver chain caress the cut of his jaw.

“Pretty,” Minho breathed, though he wasn’t talking about the earrings. Jisung looked satisfied, sweeping the rest of the jewelry back into the box and setting it on the table. He disappeared back into the bathroom, probably to fuss with his hat, and Minho took the time to grab a worn baseball cap from his own bag and tug it on backwards over his dark hair.

Jisung returned from the bathroom, his face dewy with skincare products. Minho had never been one for more than a slap of moisturizer every now and then, but Jisung had not approved. Minho had been dutifully following the skincare routine Jisung had set up for him and he wandered into the bathroom after Jisung exited, quickly slathering the products on his skin. He wasn’t sure of the purpose of everything, but it made Jisung happy when he took care of himself, so for Jisung’s sake he would keep doing it. He made sure to rub some lotion into his hands as well, still working to ease the cracks that had developed over his years of working with his hands. They were softer than they’d been, and Jisung really didn’t seem to mind, but Minho wanted them to be perfect.

Jisung was shoving his laptop, notebook and headphones into a tote bag when Minho emerged, and he glanced up at the older boy’s appearance, “I’m going to go hit up the library or a coffee shop or something. Somewhere I can work on some writing. Is that okay?”

Minho nodded. He loved being around Jisung, but he knew they couldn’t spend all their time together. It was important for them to have their space, especially now when they were stuck together on the road. 

“I’ll find something to do. Good luck with your writing.”

Jisung finished gathering all his stuff and he crossed over to Minho, grabbing him by the cheeks and smacking a loud kiss off his lips, “Bye bye. I’ll see you later.”

Minho snagged him by the waist and pulled him in for a proper kiss, releasing Jisung before things could get too heated, “Bye, jagi.”

Jisung headed out and Minho dug out his own laptop once he was gone, dropping down onto the small couch in the corner of their hotel room with the coffee he’d bought on his walk. He pulled up the Korean language course he’d signed up for, not wanting to dump the burden of teaching him a new language on Jisung. The younger boy had excitedly named all the animals at the zoo for him in Korean yesterday, but Minho knew learning a full new language would be tough. He’d let Jisung teach him the alphabet, the younger boy tracing the characters on Minho’s bare skin as they lay in bed, and he had them down, remembering the electricity of Jisung’s touch every time he practiced writing them. 

Minho set his laptop on his knees and settled into the couch, his own notebook and headphones at his side. He was ready to learn.

-

Minho’s brain felt like mush by the time Jisung returned to the hotel room around 5, his headphones around his neck and his tote bag bumping against his leg. He collapsed onto the couch next to Minho, dropping his head onto his shoulder and glancing over at Minho’s open laptop.

“Studying?”

“Yeah,” Minho yawned, closing the screen and letting his hand drop to Jisung’s thigh, giving it a brief squeeze as Jisung lifted his head and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Annyeonghaseyo.”

Jisung laughed lightly, not bothering to return the greeting as he climbed to his feet, “Are you cool with ordering us some food in? I’m going to start getting ready for tonight. Whatever you want to eat is okay with me.”

Minho nodded, pulling up the delivery app on his phone as Jisung disappeared into the bathroom. He scrolled through the options before settling on a steak house and placing an order, gathering up his study supplies and standing up. He brought them over to his bag, dropping them in before squatting and digging through his outfit options. He huffed out a sigh, unhappy with his own style as he got back to his feet. He should have gone shopping today. Jisung always looked so nice, Minho felt pale in comparison. 

He wandered over to Jisung’s suitcase, searching for the shirt Jisung had lent him the night before. Maybe he’d be okay with Minho stealing it again. His hand hit something hard and he pulled it out, smiling down at the photo from his graduation that Jisung had insisted they bring. His eyes danced over his dad’s proud face, wondering if he’d be proud of the man Minho had become in the years since. He liked to think he would be.

“What are you doing?”

Minho glanced back over his shoulder at Jisung’s voice. The younger boy didn’t sound upset about finding Minho going through his things, just curious, and Minho held up the photo.

“Oh. Do you want to hold onto it? It’s probably weird that I have it.”

“It’s fine,” Minho shoved it back into Jisung’s bag. “I was looking for the shirt from yesterday.”

“It’s in the laundry bag. You can borrow something else if you want.”

“Thanks,” Minho snagged a short sleeved black knit shirt, a chunky silver zipper cutting down the middle. He shrugged out of his t-shirt and pulled it on, the material a little snugger on him than it probably would have been on Jisung.

“Holy shit.”

Minho followed Jisung’s gaze, dropping his eyes to where the zipper was exposing a little too much of his chest for his own comfort. He’d be fixing that before he went out in public, but not now. Not when Jisung was looking at him like he was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“You can keep that. Forever. God, you’re so sexy, it’s not fair,” Jisung whined, his heavy gaze still locked on Minho’s exposed skin. “Can I do something?”

Minho nodded, expecting an armful of Jisung. Instead he received a black choker around his neck, Jisung’s breath warm on his skin as he carefully affixed it. The younger boy crouched to dig around in his suitcase again, coming out with a pair of black pants that were nicer than Minho’s jeans, pressing them into his hands before Jisung hurried over to the bathroom. Minho changed into the pants Jisung had given him, tucking the shirt in and slipping a belt through the loops as Jisung reappeared, his makeup bag in his hand. He pushed Minho down onto the bed and got to work, smoking his lashline and highlighting his cheekbones, fussing when Minho kept blinking, unused to the feel of makeup on his eyes. 

“Is that okay?”

Minho nodded, his eyes still fluttering a bit uncomfortably, but he wasn’t opposed to the makeup. He just had to get used to it. Jisung held his chin to steady him, pulling out an eyeliner pencil and carefully lining Minho’s eyes. He stepped back to admire his work, tongue poking out from his lips as he surveyed Minho’s face, nodding to himself before grabbing the eyeshadow again and diving back in.

Minho allowed himself to be dolled up, doing his best not to move and ruin Jisung’s work. They were interrupted by the ringing of the phone, a call from the front desk informing them that their food had arrived.

“I’ll go grab it,” Jisung tossed his eyeshadow brush back in the bag, pointing a finger at Minho. “Don’t move. I still have to do your hair.”

Minho followed Jisung instructions, staying planted on the bed but reaching for the compact mirror that was sticking out of Jisung’s bag. He popped it open, studying what Jisung had done to his face. He blinked a few times, surprised to see that he still looked exactly like himself. Jisung had just enhanced his features, his eyes popping and his cheeks catching the light as he turned his head back and forth. He snapped the mirror shut and returned it to the bag, leaning back on his hands as he waited for Jisung to come back.

The younger boy returned quickly and they ate on the bed, giggling over how difficult it was to cut their steaks while balancing them on pillows in their laps. Jisung fed Minho a few bites of his own steak, even though Minho had ordered them the same thing, and Minho returned the favor, trying not to stare too heavily at Jisung’s lips as they wrapped around his fork. They made quick work of their dinners and soon Jisung was tugging Minho into the bathroom and planting him in front of the mirror so he could style his hair.

Minho watched Jisung’s reflection, watching as he straightened and curled and carefully placed every strand of Minho’s hair, leaving him with a style that framed his face and showed off just the right amount of forehead. Minho blinked at himself, surprised by how nice he looked. He knew he was far from bad looking, but he never put much effort into his appearance. There had never been a reason to.

“Do you like it?” Jisung fussed with Minho’s bangs, a can of hair spray in his hand. “Do you want me to change it?”

“I love it,” Minho offered him a crooked smile, their eyes meeting in the mirror. “Thanks, Sungie.”

Jisung pursed his lips, studying his work, “Fuck. You’re so hot. You’re going to get hit on hard tonight. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Minho laughed, turning around so he could pull Jisung into a hug, “I only have eyes for you, jagi. I promise. Besides, I haven’t been hit on for 26 years before you came around. I doubt tonight will be any different.”

-

Minho was wrong. He was so wrong. He’d lost track of how many people had come up to him, offering a drink or just a compliment, men and women alike. He turned everyone down politely, with a tight smile and an acknowledgement that he was already seeing someone. All the women were respectful, but a few more pushy men had commented that they didn’t see anyone here with him. Minho informed them that his boyfriend was performing, then berated himself for feeling the need to explain himself at all. He shouldn’t need someone by his side for them to believe him.

Minho was getting tired of the constant attention, mussing the hair Jisung had carefully styled and zipping his shirt up to his neck, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the back wall. Jisung hadn’t been sure what time he’d be performing tonight, so Minho needed to be present for the whole event, the open mic night taking place at a local music venue. It was bigger than Minho had been anticipating, and there were more people in attendance than he thought there’d be, packed together on the dance floor.

The musicians had all been good, but Minho was beginning to grow antsy the later they got into the night without Jisung performing. He wasn’t used to being around crowds, and he really wasn’t used to the attention, still heavy on him even when he’d tried to make himself less desirable. He felt bad for Jisung, who must have it a million times worse as a celebrity. 

“Hey!”

A voice sounded near Minho’s ear and he turned, ready to snap at them that he had a boyfriend, when he recognized Jisung. He relaxed and Jisung giggled, clearly understanding Minho’s prickliness, pressing up on his toes to speak into Minho’s ear, “I told you you’d get hit on!”

“How do you deal with this all the time? It’s annoying,” Minho huffed, making sure to wrap his hands around Jisung so anyone looking at them would know they both were taken. 

“Big hoodies, sunglasses, and masks. I just wanted to let you know I’m up next! We can get out of here as soon as I’m done.”

“Okay,” Minho dropped his hands from Jisung’s hips, letting Jisung step away. “Good luck.”

Jisung moved back into Minho’s space, pulling him down into a searing kiss before he stepped away for good, weaving through the crowd and back towards the stage. Minho watched him go, then made his own way through the crowd until he found a spot close enough to the stage that he’d be able to see Jisung’s face, but not right at the front where people were crowded too close together. He tapped his foot along to the beat of the song that was currently being performed, his mind a million miles away. He’d asked Jisung on the ride over what he’d be performing, but Jisung said it was a secret. The only information he’d given Minho was that he would be singing three songs.

The performer on stage finished and Minho stood to full attention as Jisung appeared, his guitar slung over his shoulder and a stool in his hand. He set the stool down in front of the microphone and sat down, one booted foot on the stool and the other on the floor as he adjusted the height of the mic. Minho’s eyes drank him in, the ease and confidence that had set over him the second he’d stepped onto the stage, the pretty earrings he’d picked out in the morning glinting under the stage lights. He was wearing one of Minho’s worn flannels, unbuttoned enough to show the hint of his tattoo as he leaned over, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows. He finished his adjustments, sliding his acoustic guitar into his lap as he addressed the crowd, introducing himself as Peter Han. His calloused fingers picked at the strings of his guitar as he immediately launched into the first song, a cover of Until I Found You. 

Jisung bent over the guitar, his bangs falling into his eyes, his pretty voice echoing around the room. Minho was mesmerized, his eyes unblinking as he watched Jisung in his element, each word carrying a weight Minho felt in his chest. It felt like he’d barely started before the melody was switching, his fingers deftly picking at the strings as he began another cover, his voice soft and gentle over the lyrics of I Love You So.

The song ended and Jisung swung his guitar around to his back, reaching for the mic stand. He informed them that the final song would be one of his own original songs, and that the translation for the Korean lyrics would be on the screen behind him if anyone was interested.

Minho stood even straighter, barely breathing as Jisung’s eyes fluttered shut, his hands wrapped around the microphone like a life line. The melody that started was unfamiliar to Minho’s ears, even though he’d been listening to Jisung’s music for the last few days. 

Jisung nodded along to the beat, his dark hair falling into his eyes as the backing vocals started, his lips pressed together as he tapped his foot to the Korean lyrics, waiting to enter the song. Minho wanted to know what the lyrics meant, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Jisung, his gaze locked on the boy on the stage.

“Light it up for me, brighter more please,” Jisung started in English, the lyrics quickly switching to Korean as Minho’s breath hitched. Minho may not have understood the words, but the emotion in them was unmistakable. Everything else faded to the back of his mind, until his every thought was Jisung. The pulsing crowd around him was gone, Minho rooted to the spot by the heavy weight of Jisung’s voice. All that existed was him and Jisung and the mic he was clutching, the song weaving its way into Minho’s bloodstream, carried straight to his heart.

Jisung’s eyes opened as he hit the pre-chorus and they locked directly on Minho’s, somehow finding him instantly in the crowd. Minho wasn’t sure when he’d started crying, but he could feel the dampness on his cheeks, tasted the sting of salt as a tear rolled across his lips. He couldn’t move, not even to wipe the tears from his face, so captivated by Jisung and the power he was pouring into the song.

Jisung’s voice faded out, silence ringing in Minho’s ears for a second before the crowd crashed back in, the applause and cheers as Jisung gave a short bow and left the stage, dragging his stool behind him.

Minho was moving, pushing through the crowd to get to the edge of the stage, to the spot closest to where Jisung was shaking hands with the person who must have organized the event. He noticed Minho immediately, saying something to the man before he jumped down, crashing into Minho’s arms as Minho held him tighter than he ever had before. His arms snaked underneath Jisung’s guitar, clinging to him as Jisung hugged him just as fiercely, his face pressed into Minho’s neck.

Minho wasn’t sure how long they stood there, clutching each other like they were the only people in the room, Jisung’s breathing shaky and Minho’s tears still streaming down his face. 

Jisung pulled back first, reaching silently for Minho’s hand and leading him out of the venue, out onto the Chicago streets. Neither of them spoke, their fingers linked and their footsteps falling in sync as they walked, Minho reaching up to discretely wipe at his tears with his free hand.

They’d already been walking for a few blocks before Minho got enough control of himself to speak, his hand tightening in Jisung’s, “I’ve never heard that song before. It was beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

“I wrote and recorded it today,” Jisung snuck a peek at Minho, his cheeks a little flushed. “It’s about you.”

Minho stopped walking, Jisung turning to look at him with concern. He knew Jisung had mentioned he’d write love songs for Minho, but Minho hadn’t thought he was serious. He didn’t think he’d made enough of an impression on Jisung for him to write something that emotional, that powerful.

“You’re crying again,” Jisung said softly, tugging down the sleeve of the flannel he was wearing to carefully dab at Minho’s cheeks. “Did you read the lyrics?”

Minho shook his head. He’d been unable to take his eyes off of Jisung and the way he poured his soul into the performance.

“I’ll show you them later. It’s the first song I’ve been able to write in a year.” Jisung dropped his hand from Minho’s face, tucking himself into the older boy’s side instead. “Thank you. For loving me and letting me love you to the point of inspiration.”

Minho held him close, too choked up and overwhelmed to speak. Jisung seemed to understand, his arm winding around Minho’s waist, his weight warm and comforting against Minho’s side as they walked into the night.