Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the eyes of others, Han Jisung is a professional songwriter. A seasoned creator of music, with awards highlighting the blood, sweat and tears poured into his practice.

In his own eyes, he is a collector and organiser of sounds – both verbal and instrumental – with a love for stringing words together in a manner that has rhythm, repetition and rhyme.

Such talent is no doubt a result of his infatuation with music in general, clearly shown through the hours that he spends both in the studio and listening for enjoyment. Music is his lifeline, his passion, and his career. Similarly, lyric writing, and conveying stories and ideas through words, is as much second nature to him as bouncing his legs absentmindedly, or filling his cheeks with food while he eats.

Despite this intrinsic connection that his life has to words, it may be surprising to learn that he isn't one for reading. Or rather, he never used to be one for reading. Recent developments in his life have changed such a fact, but that's a topic to be touched on later.

Growing up, Jisung discovered a love for anime and dramas, particularly of the horror and romance variety. He developed the ability to consume media like a vacuum, while also somehow engrossing himself so thoroughly in their narratives that tears on his cheeks became commonplace. Now, don’t get him wrong. He's read and enjoyed books and web-novels before, but an issue always lay in his impatience, and lack of desire to sit down and stare at endless blocks of text.

Which is why it's particularly bizarre when he finds himself hunched over his computer, late at night, writing a story when he should be sleeping. But not just any story – a fanfiction. About himself. And the group member that he just so happens to share a dorm with.

It's an odd circumstance.

It's also a dangerous game.

Lee Minho, one of his two narrative subjects, can be heard showering in the other room, absent-mindedly humming the melody of Jisung's own handcrafted song, twilight. It’s incredibly distracting, but Jisung's attempts to ignore it are weak-willed. Sue him for enjoying the soft, pleasant sound of his best friend's voice in the tune of a song that he spent countless hours creating.

Because that's what they are; best friends. Even if Jisung's word document currently says otherwise. In some ways, he uses Minho's humming to drown out the reality that he's reached a truly pathetic level of pining.

If the Han Jisung from two months ago was to see him right now, he'd surely draw back in distaste, wondering why on Earth he's considering the other member in a non-platonic manner to begin with. Because that's when it all started – two months ago.

The beginning of the end of Jisung's sanity.

~ Two months prior ~

Han Jisung, in true Han Jisung fashion, finds himself curled up on the couch of his dorm, sunset filtering in through the window, watching an anime. It had been a rare day off for the group, so he presumes that most of the other members went out and did something recreational, like Minho's decision to go fishing with a few friends. Truthfully, Jisung had meant to go for a walk today, and was almost tempted to tag along with Minho, but when he sat down at 10am, remote in hand, he hadn't anticipated the pit he was about to fall into.

It’s almost 7pm, and he's on the last episode. The show is one that was recommended to him by a friend, with an evil smile and the promise that 'the romance is amazing', and Jisung had been gullible enough to believe him. In his defence, how could he have anticipated that a show titled 'Banana Fish' would be the most devastating thing he's ever laid eyes on?

Jisung cried while watching the first episode. And the second. And the third. And, well, you get the idea. By the ninth episode, he was pretty sure that he had run out of tears, only to have to pause the show, walk over to his bed, and sob uncontrollably for 10 minutes straight.

To be fair, the romance (if you can call it that) has, in fact, been amazing. Soul-crushing, but amazing. Jisung hadn't anticipated that it would be between two men, but in the grand scheme of guns and drugs and tragic backstories, it's an insignificant surprise. The only point at which he felt somewhat self-conscious about it was when Minho was preparing to go out, and one of the main characters decided to kiss the other, completely unprompted. From somewhere behind him, Jisung had heard Minho let out a startled, "oh?", and a slight warmth had flooded Jisung's cheeks.

Now, Jisung likes to think that he's quite lucky. Sure, his life has had its hardships, but with his members by his side, he's managed to achieve feats grander than he ever could have anticipated. Right now, however, his luck is doing dubious things, because just as he finishes the final episode, Minho returns home from his day out.

Jisung will later learn that he brought back takeaway for them to share, but currently he is too busy screaming into the couch cushions to register such. His voice is hoarse and somehow his body is still producing tears, and he only registers that there is another human being in his vicinity when a hesitant hand lands on his back.

Jisung lurches up, catching sight of Minho's concerned expression through his clouded vision.

"Hyung~" he whines, falling into the other man's arms without warning, needing the comfort of a non-animated embrace.

Minho lets out a humoured huff, "Sad show?"

Jisung nods, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

It takes a little while for Jisung to calm down and detach himself. During this time, he rambles on and on about the characters and the tragedy befalling them, interspersing angry jabs at some of the villains, but mainly crying over how the story should have ended.

It’s only when they're eating dinner that Minho asks him a question he's clearly spent some time considering, because he says it with his signature I-care-about-this-but-don't-want-you-to-think-I-do tone of voice.

"So the main characters in that anime were gay, right?"

Jisung hums in contemplation, before settling on an answer.

"Well… they definitely loved each other in a more-than-friends kind of way, but it's not technically a… what's the term? Yaoi?"

Minho nods slowly, picking at his food.

"Have you watched any?" he then asks, and Jisung blinks.

"Yaoi," he clarifies.

His tone indicates that he's feeling shy, but Jisung can't understand why he would be.

"No," he answers truthfully, and then after a second, "Have you?"

Minho hums in affirmation, which Jisung supposes makes sense. After all, Minho has been out to the group for multiple years now, and a gay anime fan watching gay anime is like a fork being found in a kitchen.

"The closest I've seen is NANA, are they any good?" He asks, to which Minho shrugs.

"It depends on what you like watching."

The conversation from there spirals into more of a discussion about genre and western television series, but Banana Fish stays in the forefront of Jisung's mind for the rest of the evening. He really wishes that it ended differently, and based upon the reviews he can find online, many other people feel the same.

Lying on his bed, he scrolls through countless different fanarts of the two protagonists, Ash and Eiji, ranging wildly from cute domestic scenarios to tear-jerking depictions of the anime's most horrific scenes. While Jisung has always been head over heels for romance, he typically only indulges in shows with heterosexual main couples. It's not a conscious decision on his part, but rather a byproduct of being a straight man living in a world that prioritises straight couples in popular media.

It's actually rather depressing now that he thinks about it – the wildly disproportionate ratio between shows tailored to him and shows tailored to people like Minho. Maybe he should step out of his comfort zone more often, even if it's simply to show support for his best friend's sexuality.

That aside, Jisung simply cannot get over these two characters. The desire to see them experience a happy ending is entrenched so deeply within his heart that he can't think about anything else. Luckily for him, a certain post catches his eye. It's a fanart, but above it is a link to the website 'Postype'. Jisung has heard of Postype, and knows that it holds an abundance of fan stories about idols, so he never really goes on it. That being said, he could definitely use a story about Ash and Eiji right now.

So, he clicks on the link, and it's all downhill from there.

The story fills a portion of the gap in his chest, and opens his eyes to the fact that reading isn't such an arduous thing after all. He finds it surprisingly fun, perhaps due to the fact that he already knows who is involved in the story, and the general direction that it will go in. There's no need for him to sit down and concentrate on absorbing basic narrative information – it's built into the experience.

Thus, one story becomes two, and two stories becomes seven, and seven stories becomes watching the sunrise peek through the window with the horrific realisation that he needs to get up in three hours.

Suffice to say, he's unproductive in the studio, but he can't bring himself to regret it.

While he does get unnecessarily attached to all of the media he consumes, there was something different and new and exciting about fanfiction – because that is what it was; fanfiction. He's read enough now to start using the correct terminology.  

At some point in the night, he had deviated from just Ash and Eiji. Pairings from different anime started being recommended to him, like Sasuke and Naruto from Naruto, and Hinata and Kageyama from Haikyuu. Neither of these pairings had stuck out to him as romantic before, but lying there, overwhelmed by words and idealised love stories, he found himself understanding such interpretations. Naruto spends most of the story worrying about Sasuke, so why can't those feelings be romantic? A significant portion of Haikyuu is centred around Hinata and Kageyama's relationship, so why can't it develop just that one step further?

"Jisung, you're not listening to me," Chan's exasperated voice filters back into his brain, and he snaps out of the thought-induced stupor he was in.

"Sorry," he sheepishly apologises, rubbing the back of his neck and blinking rapidly, "My brain is a bit… occupied."

3Racha have been working on writing lyrics for a few hours now, and sheets of paper are strewn across the desks before them. Chan and Changbin have both proposed some fun and creative ideas, while Jisung's page is full of nothing but blue absent-minded squiggles. Changbin swivels in his chair to face him.

"Well? Are you going to tell us what it is? You've been completely out of it all mor-"

"Gay fanfiction," Jisung reveals before common sense can stop him. It's a weight off his chest, but also the worst possible thing he could have said.

The studio falls silent, and Jisung is suddenly overwhelmingly thankful that it's only the three of them in there.

"I mean-" he rushes to clarify, heat creeping up his neck, "I watched an anime yesterday and the two main characters were definitely in love but it ended really badly so I looked at a bunch of things online and-"

"Jisung," Chan cuts in, a grin now playing on his lips, "It's fine, you can read whatever you want. I won't judge."

"You are definitely judging me."

Chan raises his hands defensively, "I'm not! And neither is Binnie, right?"

"I mean," Changbin says, eyes glimmering, "If you say so."

Jisung's eyebrows furrow into a pointed glare, and he bites back an exclamation of 'He's obviously lying!'. Instead, he settles for a threat.

"If either of you tell anyone, I'll throw your laptops into the Han River!"

Changbin starts to speak again, but Chan cuts him off.

"Noted," he says, "But let's get back to writing lyrics, yeah?"

His body language now mirrors that of a stern father getting in between the squabble of two children, which Jisung thinks is hypocritical since he was clearly participating in the conversation. He doesn't mention this though, and just mutters out a dejected, "Yeah".

Over the course of the next few weeks, Jisung thoroughly regrets letting slip the content of his reading, because he can feel Changbin's knowing eyes on him every time he sits down to scroll on his phone. Now, is Changbin correct in assuming that Jisung is reading fanfiction? Yes, but it's incredibly irritating to have a constant reminder of the absurdity of his new hobby.

Thankfully, in spite of Changbin's taunting, Jisung's interest in fanfiction only deepens as he learns more about it. Postype, he discovers, isn't the only place where he can read Korean fanfiction. Twitter has a lot, and there are also some on a website called Archive Of Our Own.

He finds that he can search for basically any couple he wants and there will be results, but some are a lot more popular than others. He also finds that there are stories about straight couples, and stories where the reader is the love interest, but neither of those options appeal to him. If he wants straight romance, he can just rewatch a K-Drama he likes, and the 'X Reader' stories are almost always tailored towards women, so he can't put himself in the protagonist's shoes.

Homosexuality it is.

Which is honestly kind of bizarre considering his track record of consumed media, but he's not about to complain when he's finally discovered a love for reading. In the back of his mind, he wonders if he should tell Minho. If Minho, as a gay man, would find it weird that Jisung now enjoys reading about non-canon gay ships.

In all honesty, Jisung has learned quite a lot about gayness in general from these stories. Not that he expects them to be fully realistic, but the first time he clicked on a fanfiction labelled 'explicit' was the beginning of a flustering encounter with two men doing things that he hadn't been aware two men could do. He'd come away from that fanfiction red in the face and with an embarrassing heat in his lower body, and belatedly wondered if Minho's hookups actually contained such… positions.

Ever since then, he's been exposed to various similar scenes, and has built up quite a large mental dictionary of gay sex-related terminology. Should he question his desire to read such things? Probably, but he rationalises it with the belief that he's simply pent up from a lack of action, and that written sex is hot regardless of the genders involved, so his interest doesn't reflect anything about his own heterosexuality.

Around two weeks into this new obsession, Changbin finally decides to move on from his disconcerting staring act and instead starts asking Jisung direct questions. It's during one of their dance practice breaks that he wanders over to the other man, slumping down on the couch next to him and casting an eye towards his phone screen. Jisung promptly turns it off.

"What are you reading?" Changbin asks, humour already seeping into his tone of voice.

Jisung scowls.

"Come on~" Changbin nags, shoving his shoulder a little, "At least tell me who you're reading about! Is it Hyunjin? Tiger JK? Or is it… You know who?"

Jisung splutters, arms flailing to grip onto the armrest.

"I- I'm not reading about idols !" he all but hisses, not wanting the other members to eavesdrop.

"Oh?" Changbin responds, and seems genuinely surprised, "Then what are you reading about?"

Jisung buries his head in his hands.

"…Anime characters, like Nana and Hachi. Or Gojo and Geto."

"…Oh," Changbin says, but before he can continue, Jisung's mind has latched on to a new topic, and he springs back up with an accusatory stare.

"Wait, what do you mean 'you know who'?"

Changbin looks away sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, there's only really one person who you-"

"Jagi!" A voice cuts through the practice room air, and Jisung looks over to see Minho staring at him from by the door.

"I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?" he asks, to which Jisung shakes his head.

"I'm alright, but thanks jagi!" He flashes the other man a wide grin before turning back to Changbin, who looks at him with an almost pained expression. He moves to stand up from the couch, brushing off non-existent dust from his sweatpants.

"I believe your question has been answered."

Jisung tilts his head as he walks away, confused. It's only later that evening, while out to eat with Jeongin and Felix, that he finally makes the connection.

"Oh!" His eyes widen and his hands slam down onto the restaurant table, almost knocking over a bowl of rice.

"Lino hyung?!?!"

The other two men startle at the sudden outburst, Jeongin immediately leaning across the table to shush him.

"What about hyung?" Felix asks, and all of a sudden Jisung has forgotten how to speak, mouth gaping open like a fish.

"… Nothing," he settles on, and picks up his chopsticks to continue eating, staunchly ignoring Jeongin's judgemental gaze for the rest of the meal.

Jisung finds that with night time, he loses a lot of his common sense. Not in the sense that he does anything risky or harmful, but that he becomes curious about things he would never be interested in during the day time. The most recent example of this was anime fanfiction and, well, look at him now. So it can't really be blamed on him when, at the ungodly hour of 2:15am, he starts searching for idol fanfiction. Technically, it's Changbin's fault for putting the idea in his head to begin with.

Unfortunately, or actually rather fortunately, Jisung finds idol fanfiction to be lacklustre. Since the people involved aren't part of any story that he's already familiar with, he finds it difficult to connect with their narratives. A story about two popular female idols working in a coffee shop? He can just read NANA fanfiction. A story about the reader falling in love with a mafia boss version of a male idol? No thanks. Two male idol group members falling for each other in an alternate apocalyptic universe? Ok, that concept actually had a kick to it, but the writing was atrocious. 

It's nearly 3am when he decides to finally bite the bullet and search for Stray Kids fanfiction. He tells himself that it's all for shits and giggles, and that he isn't going to take any of the stories seriously. After all, based upon what he's seen so far, things are likely going to be completely exaggerated and excessively out of character.

The first story he chooses completely out of spite; a canon-compliant one-shot where Changbin falls for Hyunjin. It's short – only around 4000 words, and according to the synopsis, features various famous Hyunibini moments from Changbin's perspective.

At first, Jisung doesn't let himself get attached to the narrative, instead finding vengeful glee in witnessing the older man's obliviousness towards his own feelings. However, to his surprise, a sadness weaves its way into the interactions, as Changbin goes from playfully flirting to genuinely flirting, with the knowledge that it will only ever be taken as a joke. When, on a livestream, Changbin accidentally confesses his feelings, covering them up with an awkward laugh and backtracking, Jisung has to pause for a moment and put his phone down. He knows, better than anyone else, that Changbin doesn't like Hyunjin in real life… but there's something disconcertingly plausible about everything he's read.

Shaking his head, Jisung decides to move onto something else. This is supposed to be a fun exploration of the internet, not an existential crisis over fictional speculation of his hyung's mental workings. As he considers which group member to go with next, Changbin's words from earlier echo through his mind.

"Or is it… You know who?"

"You know who".

Minho. 

Jisung's best friend, his soulmate, his current dorm co-owner.

There'd be no harm in searching for Minho's name, right?

Biting his lip, Jisung types 'LEE KNOW' into the search bar, and an odd tightness settles in his chest as he waits for the results to load. His internet must be failing, because it feels like a decade has passed by the time that his screen is filled with the top results. His eyes dart to the most popular pairing.

LEE KNOW X SEUNGMIN

Jisung frowns. It's not as though he's unaware of their popularity as a duo – after all, the company has made them play into their 'divorced couple' dynamic more times than he can count. People love them together – especially in South Korea, and since he's reading Korean fanfiction, it makes perfect sense that they are right at the top.

It's just that, well… something is off.

Seungmin doesn't call Minho pet names. He doesn't know Minho's habits as well as Jisung does, and he doesn't share any key interests with him. Even though Jisung doesn't like Minho like that, the people who imagine something between him and Seungmin are clearly ignoring the better option.

Then again , a voice says in the back of Jisung's mind, it's not as though I don't flirt with the other members as well. I call Hyunjin the same pet names I call Minho. 

Sighing, Jisung presses his lips into a line. He knows it's irrational, but the vibes of Lee Know x Seungmin just throw him off, okay?

He starts scrolling through the top works, and every time that ship enters his vision, an unpleasant sensation bubbles in his gut. Thankfully, it doesn't take too long for him to stumble across a diamond in the rough.

LEE KNOW X HAN

Before he knows it, he's clicked on the link.

-

When Minho stumbles through the front door at 2am, Jisung isn't sure about what to do with himself.

His breath catches in his throat, but his limbs lock in place, and in some ways it feels like the ground beneath him has started to collapse.

Minho's skin is flushed, his dark hair tangled and swept away from his face. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to expose his chest, and his left hand has a white-knuckled grip on his phone.

Mentally, Jisung is already on the other side of the room, helping Minho get his shoes off while grilling him with the questions that his anxiety-ridden mind conjured up over the better part of the evening.

Where have you been?

Why wouldn't you answer your phone?

Why do you smell like the alcohol that you swore off a month ago?

But Jisung's legs are frozen, and his traitorous heartbeat jackhammers in his chest as though the man in front of him isn't his band member, his best friend, his soulmate whom he would do anything for. He'd stayed up waiting for this very moment, sacrificing the sleeping schedule he'd only just managed to fall into, but now that the moment has arrived, he's stuck. He feels pathetic.

-

Jisung can imagine it vividly – the heavy gaze of the older man, piercing across the room to lock him in place. It's not something that he's ever experienced, and it's not something that he would ever like to. Already, this story is more immersive than the Hyunibini one – probably because it's looking at the world through Jisung's own eyes.

He continues reading, and follows the narrative as his fictional self manages to break free from his paralysed state, rushing over to help his hyung. They make their way into the bathroom, but before Jisung can help Minho get cleaned up, the older man starts to cry, catching Jisung off guard.

-

He falls to his knees, leaning up to gently hold the other's cheek in his palm, forcing their eyes to meet.

"I mean it, hyung. Jagi. I'm here. You're okay now."

Minho's eyes widen, before squeezing shut. Jisung pulls him forward into a crushing, sweaty hug.

It's ironic, how weak Jisung feels as his fingers curl into the fabric of Minho's shirt. How fragile his existence truly seems. Minho's face is pressed into his shoulder, tears wetting his skin, and Jisung should be taking control of the situation, but the selfishness in his heart pierces through to the surface.

It's been two weeks since they last held each other. They had cuddled on the couch while rewatching a Ghibli movie, and Jisung had fallen asleep with his head tucked against Minho's shoulder, and Minho's arm draped around his neck. For a normal person, two weeks isn't a lot, but for Jisung, the days have ticked by like an eternity. It's no secret that he craves skinship more than the average person, but he'd be lying if he said that was the issue at hand.

For the past two weeks, Minho has been avoiding him.

-

Jisung's heart twinges painfully, and the darkness of the room around him seems to amplify. When was the last time he hugged Minho? It surely couldn't have been very long ago. A few days, at most.

Fictional Jisung starts to mentally recount the two weeks of pain he's endured, and his fears that Minho has figured out his feelings. It's realistic, in a way, fictional Jisung's decision to hide his romantic love for the other man. Painful, but realistic.

-

Minho pulls away first.

His movements are uncoordinated, as he shakes off his jacket and tries to unbutton his shirt. His fingers, that normally move with trained precision and agility, fumble, drawing an exasperated huff from his lips. Without thinking, Jisung reaches out to still his hands, taking over the task despite the pressure in his chest telling him to stop.

Minho's gaze bores into him as he slowly unbuttons the white fabric, revealing a sliver of skin that he pointedly ignores. He only realises that he's been holding his breath when he stands back up, turning around to stare into nothing.

-

Jisung's breath hitches, heartbeat stuttering in his chest as he considers where the plot could lead. The image of Minho's shirt in his hands, buttons slowly being undone, sends a flush to his cheeks.

Get a grip, he tells himself, nothing even happened.

To his dismay, the narrative doesn't lead where he thought it would. Fictional Jisung ends up falling asleep in his own bed, while fictional Minho showers.

-

He only realises that he drifted off when he wakes back up, an indeterminate amount of time later. It's to the sensation of a weight shifting the mattress next to him, and the warmth of another body slipping under the blankets. Thoughts hazy and eyelids heavy, he doesn't question what's happening until an arm circles around his torso, and pulls him back against a firm, thankfully clothed, chest.

Jisung's mind is doused in icy water.

-

As though experiencing the scene himself, Jisung can feel a phantom body against his back. He knows he's too immersed in the story, but he can't bring himself to stop reading. Perhaps it's because he's in his bed right now, and the other man is mere rooms away, blissfully unaware. It's almost thrilling.

-

"Why were you out so late?" He asks, and a silence settles between them. Immediately, anxiety starts to bubble in his gut, fearing that he pushed too far.

"Sorry I-" he stutters, "I was just worried since this has happened a few times now, and-"

Jisung cuts himself off, because Minho's nose is now pressed against the back of his neck, hair tickling his skin, and warm breath raising a trail of goosebumps down to his shoulders. Tension spurs in Jisung's limbs as he freezes, jaw clenched, and his heartbeat stutters into a faster rhythm that echoes in his ears. Thankful for the darkness, he can feel his skin rapidly flushing.

-

Jisung swallows, eyes widening. Butterflies wreak havoc in his chest, accompanying a tightly-strung tension that spurs to life in his limbs. It's almost overwhelming, the clarity of his imagination, the feeling of Minho against his neck. The feeling of Minho's breath against his skin.

He's entranced.

Despite the blush-worthy situation, fictional Jisung's thoughts go down an anxious spiral, resulting in more tears and the two men properly cuddling.

-

"It's okay, it's okay," Minho whispers into the night, and only after Jisung's trembling has slowed and his eyes have begun to dry, does Minho lean down to press a light kiss to the top of Jisung's head.

-

Jisung flinches.

Fictional Jisung flinches as well and, concerned, fictional Minho pulls them both into a seated position and turns on a lamp. He says that they need to talk, and apologises for the past few weeks. He reveals that he's been struggling with his feelings, and brings up the night that they'd watched the Ghibli movie – when Jisung had fallen asleep.

-

"As I sat there, it was like time had stopped," Minho says, voice quiet and pace slow, "I knew that I should carry him back to his own room, but I didn't want to. I couldn't stop staring at him. His eyes, his cheeks, his nose…"

Jisung isn't breathing.

Minho swallows, "His lips."

Minho shakily exhales, and adjusts his position against the headboard. When his eyes find Jisung's again, they're full of an emotion that Jisung can't place. When he speaks again, his words are rushed.

"It was like everything else stopped existing. I was overcome by an emotion so intense, so overwhelming that I- I didn't know what to do with myself. It wasn't as simple as affection, or care, or even love, though that was there too. The thought that passed through my mind was that I could die for him. Jisung-ah, I- It was-"

Minho is trembling. In the golden glow of the lamp, his lips are a warm rose colour.

"- It was just so-"

Jisung kisses him.

-

Jisung turns off his phone, and is drenched in shadow. He's breathing heavily, body trembling despite the warmth of his blankets. He can't handle this – it's too much. He can feel it – the unbridled want that courses through fictional Jisung's body. The want to kiss Minho. The want to grip him by the collar and crash their faces together until they are irreversibly melded together.

He puts his phone away, before closing his eyes and pressing a hand to his chest. Breathing should be a simple act, but the knowledge that Minho is so nearby halts any progress he could possibly make in that department.

He could go into Minho's room right now. He could slip under his covers, pull him close, and kiss him on the lips. He could confess his undying love, and change the course of both of their lives forever.

…Jisung decides that he's going insane. Not only would such an act wake the other man up (which is clearly the biggest issue here, since Minho likes to be well-rested and get up early), but Jisung also happens to be straight! He doesn't even like men, or Minho, for that matter, so why would he kiss him?!

Eventually, after minutes of counted inhales and exhales, Jisung's chest remembers how to relax, and tiredness tugs at his eyelids. He resolves to never read fanfiction about Minho ever again, because clearly he can't handle it.

Jisung reads more fanfiction about Minho.

To his credit, he held off for a week!

It's just that, when filming content a few days after… that night , Minho had been making flirtatious remarks towards the other members, and Jisung had been unpleasantly reminded of a certain illogical ship. He had to force a few laughs, and he's pretty sure Changbin noticed, because he cornered him that afternoon while Jisung was chilling in the JYP cafeteria, reading a 16k KawoShin fix-it fic. Changbin slipped into the chair across from him, reaching out to wave Jisung's attention.

"You feeling alright?" He had asked, straight to the point, and Jisung had nodded.

"You sure? This morning you seemed a bit off."

"I've just been feeling tired, is all," Jisung said, and it wasn't technically a lie. Fanfiction had thrown his sleeping schedule completely out of order.

Changbin didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press it, instead nodding his head towards Jisung's phone.

"So, does Minho know that you're reading this stuff?"

"Huh?" Jisung blinked, "Why would that matter?"

"Just because," Changbin said, voice faltering, "You know…"

"What, because he's gay?" A scowl started to form on Jisung's face, fully ready to chew the older man out for his stereotyping.

"No!" Changbin exclaimed, "Well kind of- it's just. Surely he'd also be into this stuff."

Jisung froze for a moment, before bursting into laughter, hand slapping against the table in amusement. Minho? Reading fanfiction?!? A teasing grin pulled at his cheeks when he spoke.

"Sure, hyung. Whatever you say."

Changbin's brows had furrowed and he leaned back, sighing. He looked like he wanted to push the matter, but eventually just shook his head. Their conversation moved on to work and songwriting, and the interaction was mostly forgotten by Jisung until now, a few days later, as he sits, reclined in one of the studio's chairs. He's alone, and taking a break from work. It's only around 4pm, but his brain is frazzled from exertion, and he needs a pick-me-up in the form of self-curated independently published literature.

It's been a week since he read the Lee Know x Han fanfiction, and in that time, he's managed to delude himself into believing that the experience wasn't actually that bad after all. He was just caught off guard because it was so late at night, and he didn't know what he was getting into.

But now he does know, and it's only 4pm, and he's incredibly tempted to give it another go.

Definitely not because Minho had joked about 'fixing his marriage' with Seungmin that morning. Definitely not.

The story that he ends up choosing is vastly different from the first one- he's sensible enough to know that canon compliance is a death sentence. Thus, he chooses a soulmate AU, where both men are university students, and have a tattoo of the first words that they are destined to say to one another.

Fictional Jisung is head over heels at the idea of meeting his soulmate, but has been stuck with a 'Nice to meet you' on his hip bone – the most devastatingly generic statement possible. To combat this, whenever someone greets him for the first time, he makes sure to respond in some bizarrely over-the-top manner, such that there will be no confusion when he finally meets 'the one'.

Fictional Minho comes into the picture for the first time as Jisung enters the university library looking for an obscure journal on 1950s music. He's tucked away in a dark corner, headphones on and laptop out, typing away when Jisung slinks into the nearby shelves, searching.

-

Jisung's nose itches, dust swirling in the air around him as he ruffles though hordes of worn academic journals.

He needs to sneeze.

He doesn't.

He really needs to sneeze.

He does. It echoes throughout the silence of the Library, and Jisung freezes, hoping that there was no one nearby to hear. Darting his gaze around, he almost thinks he's in the clear, until his eyes lock onto a piercing gaze – obscured by shadows but undeterred in its intensity.

It's as though Jisung is pinned in place, as he takes in the appearance of a man sitting mere metres away from him, blending into the library corner like a bat in the night sky.

His hair is dark, swept away from his face by his headphones, but with a few stray strands hanging charmingly over his forehead. Complementing the catlike arch of his eyes, his eyebrows are straight and dark, furrowed slightly as he observes Jisung in turn. His shoulders are broad – discernibly so even through his sweater, and his skin is borderline glowing, and Jisung quickly feels as though the floor is being swept from under his feet.

He's gorgeous.

-

A notification pops up on Jisung's screen, obscuring his view, and he almost swipes it away until he comprehends who the message is from.

Linoring: Let me in

Jisung sharply looks up, and the sound of shuffling outside filters into his brain. Within seconds he's put his phone down and is on his feet, unlocking the studio door to reveal the older man, who pushes his way forwards without so much as a word.

"How did you know that I was in here?" Jisung asks dumbly, as Minho slumps onto the couch. He shoots Jisung a raised eyebrow, as though saying, you practically live in here, where else would I look? Which Jisung supposes is fair.

"I knocked," is what Minho says instead, and Jisung rubs the back of his neck, still standing by the entrance.

"Ah, my bad. I was just... thinking of lyrics?"

Despite the uncertainty in his voice, Minho hums in understanding, patting the empty space on the couch next to him. Jisung falls into it easily, habitually leaning against the other man so that their knees and elbows are snug together. Immediately, all the tension in his body dissipates. It's crazy how that works.

"You weren't dancing," he says after a moment of comfortable silence, because Minho smells like their laundry detergent and not hours of sweat.

Minho nods, stretching his arms out and letting one fall over Jisung's shoulders. The touch is grounding, and from such close proximity, when their eyes meet, Jisung can see the subtle browns hidden in the depths of Minho's iris.

His mind is suddenly cast back to the fanfiction, to the description of Minho's catlike eyes and his gorgeous, piercing gaze. He'd never really considered Minho's face beyond the obvious acknowledgment of his incomparable handsomeness, but clearly the fanfiction author was more in tune with reality than him, because Minho's eyes are incredibly cat-like, gorgeous, and piercing. All three at once, somehow, and Minho is saying something that Jisung isn't registering and he really needs to tune back into reality because he's on the verge of embarrassing himself.

Minho stares at him, waiting for an answer.

"...Huh?" Jisung says with the eloquence of a toddler, to which Minho chuckles, eyes curving into half-moons. The hand hanging limply over Jisung's shoulder darts up to playfully tug his ear.

"I asked if there's something wrong with my face."

"No!" Jisung exclaims, a bit too quickly, "No, you look- your eyes look good. Is all."

Minho raises his eyebrows, and a heat starts to creep up Jisung's neck. Great. Now he's made things weird.

"These are the eyes I've always had, though?" Minho says, and Jisung knows that he's teasing him. He takes the bait regardless.

"I know that! They're just..." Gorgeous? Piercing? Cat-like? God, he can't say any of that without sounding like a smitten teenager. What's a totally normal, heterosexual response?

"... Good. They're just good, okay?"

But Minho doesn't drop the topic, because he's Minho, and Jisung should have known better. Instead he uses his grip around the younger to hold him in place, leaning towards him tantalisingly slowly, ignoring Jisung's half-hearted attempts to break free. If Jisung was any more naive than he is, he'd think that Minho is trying to kiss him, but that's a clear line in their relationship that neither of them have broken, regardless of how they flirt otherwise. Also, Jisung is straight so… yeah. Despite this, Minho gets steadily closer and closer, fingers rough against the back of his head.

"Here," he says quietly, pausing just before his nose can brush against Jisung's own, "Now you can get a better look."

Jisung swallows, heartbeat stuttering in his chest. Minho is right there, and his eyes are boring into him with an intensity that makes him feel so, so small. The words gorgeous, cat-like, and piercing flutter through his brain unhelpfully.

A beat passes.

Jisung jerks away, a loud, awkward laugh tumbling from his lips.

"I was actually planning on heading to the gym," he says, ignoring the weakness in his legs as he hastily stands up. Minho's arm falls away, and he stands up too, seemingly unaffected by Jisung's sudden switch in mood.

"What's the time?" Minho asks, reaching out to check Jisung's phone, since it's still unlocked, on the desk.

It's still unlocked, on the fanfiction, on the desk.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Minho lets out a startled yelp as Jisung shoves past him, snatching the phone up so quickly that it flings out of his hands and onto the floor, which he then dives to get and shove in his pocket.

Another beat of silence passes.

Fuck. Minho had a question. Jisung quickly checks the time.

"4:26," he says, but Minho is looking at him like he's grown two heads, and Jisung doesn't blame him. He needs to come up with an excuse. Quickly.

"It was porn," he blurts, and ignores the new wave of blood rushing to his face. He'd lost all of his dignity when he called Minho's eyes good, so what's a bit more humiliation?

Minho seems to glitch for a moment, eyes widening as he considers the implications of Jisung's words, and a slight redness starts to tint his ears.

Then, he laughs.

"My bad, Jisung-ah! I should have messaged before coming," he pats Jisung on the shoulder, not even trying to hide his smirk, "I can go, if you want to get back to that."

"Eh?!" Jisung exclaims, whacking Minho's hand away, "I'm not, that's not -- I am actually going to the gym!"

Minho just laughs, but the sound is pleasant enough to offset some of Jisung's embarrassment. He knows his face is likely a deep crimson, but it's too late now to confess the truth.

As it turns out, Minho was only passing through the building to pick up some supplies he left behind, and never planned on sticking around for long anyway. Jisung packs up his things and they exchange goodbyes, though Minho makes it a point to pinch Jisung's cheek and call him cute on his way out. Jisung flips him off.

It's only after Minho has disappeared into an elevator that Jisung lets out a deep breath, slumping against the nearest wall and pressing his palms into his eyes.

Well, that was terrible.

Clearly, reading fanfiction about Minho is destined to bring him nothing but torment. First the whole 3am predicament, and now this. He should just go back to reading anime fanfiction exclusively.

...But at the same time, he really does want to know how this AU ends. Surely one more story won't make that much of a difference?

(It does. He finishes it that night, and starts a Lee Know x Han, vampire x vampire hunter fanfiction immediately afterwards.)

Unlike Jeongin, who has his eyes glued to Twitter every spare minute, Jisung generally tries to avoid their fan-spaces online. It's to keep himself sane, and avoid the inevitable criticism from people he shouldn't care about. That being said, now that he uses Twitter for fanfiction, his algorithm has unfortunately done its job, and has been showing him posts accordingly. This includes, but is not limited to; fanfiction recommendations, fanart of him and Minho doing cute shit, slowed down, incredibly zoomed in videos of him and Minho interacting on stage, texts posts yelling about the latest boddaramji moments, compilation videos of him and Minho doing cute shit with Want so BAD in the background, and fanart of him and Minho fucking. In a completely random order.

It's messing with his ability to use social media in public. At the very least, fanfiction involves large blocks of small text, which people aren't likely to try and decipher from a distance. A looped video of that one time Jisung kissed Minho's neck in 2022 doesn't have that same grace.

On top of this, the other group members have started to notice that something is off with him. Not that there is technically anything off with him… but there kind of is. (There really is).

Ever since giving in to the nagging desire to read fanfiction about himself and Minho, Jisung has had the pleasure of reading about the other man from many different perspectives, and with many different descriptions. Not sexual ones!!! Jisung has staunchly looked away from anything explicit about Minho, despite his for-you-page's wishes. He may have given in to the urge to read more canon compliant works, but he's yet to reach a level of desperation that will seek out Minho-related smut. But regardless of this fact, people who interact with Stray Kids content as a fan will naturally notice things about Minho that Jisung's mind has skipped over, and yell about it on social media, unaware of his prying eyes.

In particular, or at least, what has been messing with Jisung the most recently, is the way that Minho behaves around him.

It's ironic, considering he lives with the man, but Jisung has only now realised how desensitised he is to, well, all of it.

The way that Minho gravitates towards him, no matter what kind of line the group is standing in.

The way that Minho always tries to get Jisung's attention even when they're supposed to be acting professional.

The way that Minho blushes when Jisung accidentally, jokingly steps a toe over the line of their relationship.

The way that Minho looks at him when he knows that Jisung isn't watching.

It's not romantic. Jisung knows that it's not, because Minho comes home with hickeys on his neck frequently enough that he's probably got something serious going on already. On top of this, Minho knows that Jisung is straight, has asked him about the girls that he's interested in, and lets him know if he sees any who fit the description... So there's no way that he likes Jisung. At all.

But Jisung can't get the idea of it out of his head. It's to the extent that one morning, upon bumping into Minho in the hallway of their dorm, Jisung completely forgot what he was supposed to be doing in favour of watching the subtleties in Minho's facial expressions. 

It's honestly ridiculous. He needs to get over this broken record in his brain, preferably quickly. Just this morning, Hyunjin had pulled him aside to ask if anything had happened between him and Minho, because Jisung was so distracted. He said no, but since that moment he's been devising a plan.

It's a simple plan, really, but if everything goes well, Jisung will be absolutely certain that Minho is not interested in him, and his mind can be put to rest.

The plan, which he has mentally dubbed the 'Please Reject Me, Hyung!' plan, has three phases.

Phase One: Girls.

Jisung will talk about girls with Minho, asking for relationship advice. If he seems irritated or off put, it's an indication that he likes Jisung. On the other hand, if he's engaged in the conversation and relaxed, he probably doesn't like Jisung, because it means that he isn't saddened by Jisung's pursuit of a relationship.

Phase two: Sex Appeal.

Jisung has been working out recently, and has gained back some of the muscle definition that he'd previously lost. He also has a cool tattoo, good proportions, and big doe eyes, aka, he's pretty damn good looking. Since he and Minho share a dorm, he'll show off his body around the house. If Minho likes him, he'll shy away and avoid being near him because he's flustered. If he doesn't like Jisung, he'll look at him openly and confidently, signifying his assurance in the platonic nature of their friendship.

Phase Three: Compatibility.

This phase will likely be the most difficult to pull off. Jisung will ask Minho subtle questions about his intimate life, to gauge how he exists in relation to Jisung. Since Jisung is straight, if he was gay, he'd obviously top, because that's just how that works. With this in mind, if Minho is also a top, he clearly wouldn't be interested in Jisung because it would be an imbalanced dynamic.

Altogether, it's a foolproof plan, and he decides to set it in action as soon as possible.

As soon as possible, meaning right now. In the dim light of their living room, cuddled up, at 10pm. They'd fallen onto the couch together to watch a few episodes of Naruto, and Jisung had instinctively pressed himself to the other's side. The warmth of Minho's body sinks into his skin, and his head rests on Minho's shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of the other man's breathing.

On the television, Naruto laments Sasuke's absence for the thousandth time, and Jisung is briefly reminded of all the NaruSasu fanfics he's read. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wants to write a song about them… but that's not the point right now. He needs to set phase one in action, and he needs to approach it as heterosexually as possible. Maybe he should open with a "Hey man," or a "Hey dude" to really emphasise the platonic nature of the conversation...Though that would surely make things awkward, because Minho has never been just a "dude" to him.

"Hyung?" He says instead, tilting his head to look at Minho's face. Minho responds with a vague "Hm?" but he doesn't take his eyes away from the screen.

"Can I ask you something?"

"About what?" Minho responds, still distracted. From this angle, his eyes reflect the light of the television, making them seem even larger than usual. It's cute.

"Relationships," Jisung says, and can feel Minho's muscles tense under his touch. Not a good sign.

Minho grabs the remote control, lowers the television's volume, and then finally shifts to meet Jisung's gaze.

"What do you want to know?" He asks, voice thankfully completely calm and normal. Jisung takes a deep breath.

"Well, you know how I've only ever casually dated a few girls?" He asks, and Minho nods, "I'm starting to think that I want something more serious."

Minho hums, thinking for a moment before responding.

"You'll have to be careful."

Jisung nods.

"I know, it's just… difficult to be writing all of these love songs, when I don't have a girlfriend of my own, you know?"

Minho lets out a small humoured huff, "…Well I can't say that I do know. But I can imagine."

At this, Jisung's heart bizarrely aches, like someone has reached out to clench it in their fist. He pushes past it.

"Do you think I should find a girl from the company?"

Minho's gaze darts to somewhere in the distance.

"That would make it easier to see her, but other complications arise when you start dating coworkers," he eventually responds, "If things go wrong, your career might be on the line."

"Then, another idol?"

"Maybe," Minho says, "though that could be messy too. It's difficult to date as an idol."

"Don't you?" Jisung asks, and when Minho casts him a confused expression, clarifies, "Date, I mean."

"… You think I date people?" Minho asks with a bewildered tone, and Jisung shrugs.

"Well, every now and again you get back really late, with, um- you know- on your neck-"

Minho snorts, raising an eyebrow, "I'm not dating my hookups, Jisungie."

"Well, I know that, but surely you could, if you wanted to?" Jisung refuses to give in to the embarrassment slowly worming its way into his brain. Minho doesn’t say anything for a moment, lips pursing.

"… For me it's a bit different. If I'm seen with a guy, people probably won't assume we're dating. If we get found out, though… it won't end well."

Jisung kind of wants to slap himself. He should have been more considerate. Before he can respond, however, Minho speaks again.

"-But let's not talk about me. I'm sure that you'll be able to find a girl that's right for you, even though it's difficult. You deserve as much. "

Jisung swallows. In the low light, Minho's face looks softer than usual. More innocent. Jisung's heart feels even heavier, and he looks down at his lap. Minho is being nothing but kind and supportive of him, and for some reason he wants to cry.

"…I suppose you're right," he whispers, before nuzzling his head further into the other man's shoulder and letting out a shaky breath. Minho casts a brief look down at him, but doesn't press it, instead running a light hand through Jisung's hair before turning the volume of the television back up.

It isn't long before Jisung drifts into a dreamless sleep.

So, phase one failed. Luckily for him, there are two more left.

Phase two happens to occur roughly twenty-four hours after the first, since it took all day for Jisung to prepare himself both physically and mentally. Logically, he knows that Minho has seen him shirtless plenty of times, but something about the intentionality behind it this time makes him nervous.

Jisung knows how to look good – it's part of his job. He knows how to bite his lip, run a hand through his hair, and strut cockily across a stage. Despite this, looking good to Minho is different. Nerve-wracking. He supposes it's because Minho is a private viewer, not a stadium packed with fans.

Jisung shaves his stubble and showers. He dries his hair, but makes sure that it's damp enough to fall seductively around his face. He does a few push-ups, and ensures that nothing about his tattoo has mysteriously changed overnight. He's wearing boxers, but he wraps a towel around his waist for show.

Looking in the mirror, he reminds himself of his goal. If Minho likes him, he'll shy away and avoid being near him because he's flustered. If he doesn't like Jisung, he'll look at him openly and confidently, signifying his assurance in the platonic nature of their friendship.

Jisung takes in a deep breath, slowly exhaling, before walking out of the bathroom.

Despite the late hour, Minho stands at the kitchen stove, cooking a pot of ramyeon. The scent is both mouth-watering and incredibly distracting, and Jisung finds himself leaning over the other man's arm to get a glimpse at the dish. Minho lightly shoves him away.

"Don't worry, there's enough for both of us…" he says, trailing off because he's turned to look at Jisung, and discovered him in all of his half-naked glory.

Minho's eyes widen, doing an incredibly obvious once-over, and hovering a bit longer over Jisung's chest before darting back to his face. Jisung pretends that he didn't notice anything, instead moving to lean himself against the kitchen island, muscles slightly flexing.

To his surprise, Minho scoffs.

"Forgotten what clothes are, have we?" he says, and Jisung fights a blush.

"You think I'm hot," he bites back, to which Minho shrugs, the corner of his lips twitching up. The words sit in the air for a moment, and Jisung realises that Minho is being serious.

"… You're supposed to deny that, by the way," he says, voice significantly less confident than he would like it to be.

"Why would I deny the truth?" Minho retorts, turning back to stir the ramyeon.

"I don't know. Because we're friends?" Jisung weakly attempts, but he knows that he's lost whatever this conversation has become. This has been a very short, very unsuccessful interaction.

Minho finishes what he's doing, turning off the stove before directing his attention once again to Jisung, who hasn't moved an inch. He walks over, and without warning, cages him against the counter.

Suddenly, Jisung is hyper aware of the fact that Minho is fully clothed, while he is not. Suddenly, he finds it very hard to breathe.

Minho's eyes move slowly across Jisung's face, taking in his shocked expression with amusement. Then, he looks to Jisung's tattoo, gaze lingering, and Jisung's legs feel inexplicably weaker. He's read enough fanfiction to know where this goes, and he isn't sure if he's ready.

Against his expectations, Minho does nothing more, instead moving away to grab two bowls, leaving Jisung a blushing mess behind him. Jisung really is a bit pathetic. He was supposed to be the cool, sexy presence in the kitchen, but somehow a completely clothed, unsuspecting Minho has outdone him. Curse Minho for being effortlessly hot. Curse fanfiction for putting dirty images in his head. He really needs to cleanse his brain.

Just like that, Phase Two was over, and Jisung still isn't sure of what to make of it. Minho wasn't shy, or flustered, but he was definitely not… uninterested. Then again, flirting isn't a new thing between them, so if anything, Jisung is the one mentally blowing it all out of proportion. Now, all he has to do is phase three, and then he'll have his answer. He'll know for sure whether or not Minho's feelings towards him are platonic.

He needs to be stealthy, observant, and calculated. He needs to ask questions that seem innocent on the outside, but contain subtle prying nuances that speak to his true curiosity. He can do this. He's capable.

"Hyung, are you a top or a bottom?"

Minho falters in his step, stopping to pin Jisung with an incredulous stare. In the mid-afternoon sun, the immediate tint of redness to his ears is clear as day, and he glances around, ensuring that the streets around them are empty. They are – Jisung wouldn't have asked such a prying question if they weren't, and he takes a sip of his bubble tea before continuing.

"I'm just curious. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, though."

Minho blinks a few times, before running a hand through his hair and tightening his grip on his own drink.

"How do you even know what those terms are?" He asks, voice slightly strained, and Jisung thinks it's endearing how flustered he is. Especially after the mess that was Phase Two.

"Hey, I know stuff!" He huffs, but a smile fills his cheeks, "And I really am just curious."

Minho fixes him with his I-don't-really-want-to-do-this-but-I-will-because-it's-you expression, and Jisung's heart rate picks up. This is the information he needs, the final piece of the puzzle. If Minho is a top like him, all of his worries can be put to rest.

"If you have to know-," Minho says, though it comes out as more of a sigh than actual words.

Please say top, please say top, please say top, please-

"- it changes depending on how I'm feeling, and who I'm with."

Ah. A perfectly unhelpful answer.

"Surely you're more inclined towards one, though?" Jisung pries, and Minho looks as though he can't believe this is a genuine conversation that they are having.

"… Well if I had to choose, I'd say top. But that's just because I generally prefer to have more…control, in those situations."

YES! I knew it!

"Ah, I see," Jisung says calmly, fighting back a smile while chewing on a tapioca pearl, "I think I'd also top. Hypothetically."

At that, Minho looks like he wants to say something, but eventually just shakes his head. He reaches out to grab Jisung's arm and starts walking down the footpath again.

"Let's get back. I'm going to fry pretty soon."

It’s only been a day since Phase Three went down, but Jisung feels…odd. Sure, he’s happy about the success of his plan, and the confirmation that Minho doesn't have any feelings for him, but actually considering the implications of such has led him to a weird state of existence.

Minho doesn't like him.

Jisung isn't an idiot, he knows that Minho likes him platonically, as his best friend and soulmate, but he doesn't like him romantically… which is how it should be. So why is Jisung tearing his hair out over it?!?

"Can you tilt your head up a bit?" The makeup artist asks, and Jisung complies. They’re only filming a short promotional video, but as always, makeup is a must. In the mirror, he can see Minho and Seungmin on the other side of the room, scrolling on their phones. 

He doesn't like Jisung.

He doesn't like Jisung.

He doesn't like Ji-

"Jagi!" He calls out before he can stop himself. Minho looks up questioningly, eyes locking with Jisung's reflection. Sudden, overwhelming relief floods Jisung's veins, as though a heavy weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Everything is okay, because nothing has changed. Minho is still his Jagi. Minho is still – still his.

"… Nothing," Jisung says, and Minho looks back down.

A small smile tugs on Jisung's lips.

Chapter Text

It's a shocking ordeal, when Seungmin walks into the dance practice room ten minutes late. The seven other members had gathered together at 9:30 on the dot, engaged in an intense discussion surrounding what must have held him up, because clearly only something life changing could have thrown off his schedule for the first time in months. Minho wanted to suggest that he'd gotten into an accident and died, but Chan cut him off every time he opened his mouth, which Jisung found incredibly funny.

As it turns out, Seungmin ran into some of their managers on his way through the building, and they pulled him aside to let him know about a change in schedule. Official documents were yet to be released, but they figured there was no harm in conveying it to the group ahead of time.

"So, it's definitely not what you think it's going to be," Seungmin says to the group, who have gathered around him like a pack of hyenas, "At first I thought that they'd booked us a new performance or something, but I was completely wrong. What we're actually doing is going away for a few days, from Saturday."

Jisung sorts through the timeline in his brain. Today is Wednesday, so they do thankfully have some time to prepare.

"To where?" Hyunjin cuts in at the same time that Changbin asks, "What time?"

Seungmin casts them both an exasperated look while holding up a hand.

"I don't know everything, but from what I do know, we will be filming a continuation of SKZ Family, since it's been a while."

At this, various voices start talking all at once. Most seem fairly positive – SKZ family is tolerable on a bad day and hilarious on a good one.

"But-" Seungmin says, commanding almost immediate silence, "Instead of having a full script and guidelines, we'll stay in a house for a few nights, and it's going to be filmed like a reality TV show."

Jisung's eyes meet Hyunjin's, and then dart over to Minho, who happens to already be looking his way. This is going to be an interesting skit, for sure.

"So we'll be improvising the whole time?" Jeongin asks, and Seungmin shrugs.

"Probably not the whole time," Chan thoughtfully interjects, "Maybe in blocks of a few hours, though."

"But what matters is that we'll need to stay in character," Minho says, and Jisung notices a hint of apprehension in his voice. He frowns a little, though he supposes it makes sense – Minho will likely be wearing a wig the entire time.

"I think it will be fun!" Felix says, voice bright, and his enthusiasm soon bleeds into the rest of the group. Jisung finds himself moving to stand with Hyunjin, a confident arm slung around the other man's shoulder.

"Baby!" He exclaims, "Want to go on a trip this weekend?"

Hyunjin catches on easily, throwing Jisung a half endeared, half exasperated look.

"Jagiya, I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

Jisung laughs, instinctively searching to see if Minho is looking their way, but to his dismay, he isn't. Instead, he's grabbed Seungmin’s arm with a likely painful grip, and the two are having a playful deadpan stare-off.

A memory flashes through Jisung's mind – a recently developed distaste for a certain Stray Kids ship. 

He knows it's irrational, but something ugly churns in his gut. This may not be as easy as he'd originally thought.

Jisung buries his head in his hands, tangling his fingers in his hair and tugging to feel a sting. In the other room, he can hear Minho packing his things. They're only going away for two nights, so it's a relatively easy task, but despite Jisung's own luggage strewn out around him, that's not what is on his mind.

Instead, he's crouched down next to his bed, while his phone sits atop of it, by his line of sight.

The trip to the stay-house will be three hours, because apparently they need to film in the middle of nowhere.

It takes Jisung around 45 minutes to read 10,000 words, so theoretically a three hour trip would equate to 40,000 words.

In Jisung's list of fanfics to read, he has a 32,000 word Gojo X Geto fix-it fic, which is the objectively best story for the ride. It even accounts for the time in which Jisung will be distracted from reading, thus ensuring that he can get through the entire thing in one go.

On Jisung's phone screen right now, is a 120,000 word Lee Know X Han multiverse AU.

There are two issues with this, the first being that there is no way Jisung will be able to get through it all on the trip. Even if he starts reading tonight, the night before leaving, he likely won't have much time to read while away, so he'll have to suffer long withdrawal periods like an addict.

The second issue is that he's going to be in the same vehicle as Minho, likely sitting next to him, for the entire car ride. If he's going to be discovered for reading fanfiction, there's far less shame attached to two undeniably gay characters than… him and his bro. So he really should read the 32k one.

But he really wants to read the 120k one.

Unfortunately, Jisung has no self-control, and ends up starting the Lee Know X Han fanfiction that night. But! Fate would happen to be on his side, as when he and Minho slip into the van the next morning, they find that they are sharing it with Changbin and Hyunjin. Jisung slots himself next to Changbin with no hesitation, ignoring Minho’s questioning glance, because as much as he’d love to sit by his Jagi, the 115,000 words he has left take precedence.   

-

Flickering candles illuminate the ballroom in an angelic glow, dancing across the tiles with an air of grace and subtle foreboding. Outside, stars swirl in the cloudless, inky night sky, glittering like thousands of untouchable diamonds.

Minho adjusts his mask, black and sleek and embellished with silver ornamentations – handmade with undeniable expertise. It matches his black suit, complementing the subtle ruffles and chains that elevate it from a common outfit to that of a noble. Or, in this case, an interdimensional traveller.

Across the dancefloor, handsome men and beautiful women twirl in each other's arms, stepping in time with the waltz played by a nearby string quartet.

The dagger is heavy in Minho's belt.

He knows what he must do.

His target is a young man, merely 24 years of age. He's done nothing to deserve his fate. Not yet, at least. But he will. Minho knows this without doubt, for he's doubted before, and the scars on his body are what have come of it.

The young man wears white, his mask embellished with shimmering pearls and shells, complementing the warmer, honey tone of his skin. He's standing in an isolated corner of the room, evidently unwilling to step onto the dancefloor, despite the manner with which his feet tap in time with the quartet's compound rhythms. He must be a musician too.

Minho approaches him with an elegant stride, slinking through the crowd with practised ease. He does not try to hide his presence, rather catching the man's eye from a few meters away, allowing him to scan his eyes over Minho's form before any true interaction occurs. After all, Minho needs his trust.

"Not one to dance?" Minho asks once he is close enough, and the man has to tilt his head up slightly to meet his eyes.

"No," he says, voice cordial and deep, "I am far too clumsy."

Minho offers him a warm smile, and an outstretched hand.

"Would you prefer to take a walk in the garden, then?"

The man grins, visible through the contours of his face, despite the obstruction of the mask. His hand is warm when it grips Minho's own.

"Well, if you insist."

 -

Jisung looks up from his phone, taking in Minho's profile from where he sits in the van. A vivid image of suits and masks and stringed instruments swirls through his brain, while a worry settles in his veins. Fictional Minho plans to kill fictional him, to prevent the interdimensional complications that he is destined to bring. Vaguely, he wonders if real life Minho would do such a thing.

 -

Blue under the light of the moon, the garden is lush with flowers and plants, carving out a path with subtle twists and turns. The sound of music is offset by the rustling of leaves in the wind and insects calling out into the night, and very soon the two men are alone.

Conversation comes naturally, spurred by Minho's observation of his musical inclinations.

"I play piano thanks to my father," Jisung says, "though my heart has always preferred the guitar."

"Can you not do both?" Minho asks. Their hands are still intertwined, and at his question, Jisung's hold tightens slightly.

"Well," he says, voice now tinted with a hint of mischief, "I do. My father simply doesn't know."

Minho chuckles, a sense of sudden endearment flooding his chest. He bites his tongue enough to draw the metallic taste of blood, because he can't let himself get distracted.

Soon, they emerge into a small clearing with a fountain as its centrepiece, bubbling quietly while they slow to a stop.

Minho shifts to stand before Jisung, letting go of his hand, and taking a moment to appreciate the detail of the mask that still adorns his face.

"This is exquisite," he says quietly, to which Jisung hums in agreement.

"But," Minho continues, reaching up to tuck a strand of Jisung's hair behind his ear, "I'd rather see what lies below it."

Jisung's breath hitches and he glances down, shy.

"Only if I can see what lies behind yours at the same time," he says eventually, to which Minho nods.

"It's a deal."

With the hand by Jisung's face, Minho gently takes hold of the mask. With his other hand, he reaches into his jacket, quietly grabbing the hilt of his dagger. In his chest, his heartbeat stutters pathetically, unwilling to go forth with what he knows he must do.

At the same time, Jisung's arms reach up to take hold of Minho's mask. Despite his earlier shyness, his movements are confident, and when their gazes lock, Minho's breath is swept from his lungs. Jisung's eyes sparkle up at him, glimmering in the moonlight, round and eager and innocent and trusting and Minho’s grip on his dagger starts to-

-

"Wait! Scroll slower!" 

Jisung startles, snapping back to reality. He twists around to see who spoke, and only as he moves does he realise that Changbin is practically lying on top of him, eyes glued to the screen of his phone as well. 

“What are you doing?!” He asks, flabbergasted, and Hyunjin glances over questioningly, which in turn draws Minho's attention as well.

"I'm reading!" Changbin exclaims, mirroring Jisung's expression. Jisung quickly tucks the phone into his lap, mouth gaping open.

"Don't look at me like that!" Changbin says, volume getting louder with every word, "It's not as if you were hiding it all that well. And I'm invested now!"

"Changbin-ah, just give up," Minho says, and Jisung's neck almost snaps from how quickly he looks over at him. Minho's voice is tinted with an almost bitter tone, hanging in the air. "Hannie has been reading secretively a lot recently.”

At this, Changbin's face filters through a variety of emotions. Confusion, realisation, humour, before finally settling on smugness. He looks Jisung dead in the eyes, and Jisung shakes his head, knowing exactly what he plans to do.

Changbin smiles.

"Hyung," Jisung says, voice a clear warning.

"What?" Hyunjin interjects, "Am I missing something?" To which he receives no answer.

Changbin starts to open his mouth, and Jisung decides that he can't risk it. His hand is clamped over the other man's face in a matter of milliseconds, with nothing to show of it but the cringe-inducing sound of skin against skin. Ever the muscular gym bro, Changbin easily shoves him off, whacking him lightly on the shoulder as payback. He's still smiling.

"Hyung," Jisung says, pointing a finger at him, "don't you fucking dare-"

"Okay! I won't!" Changbin cuts in, sighing dramatically, "... But you really should tell Minho hyung."

Jisung shoves him, and Changbin laughs.

"What?" Minho's voice filters through the commotion, "Tell me what?"

"Nothing, hyung," Jisung sighs, meeting his gaze with weary eyes, "don't worry about it."

Minho is going to worry about it. Jisung knows this, because they rarely have any secrets between them, and Changbin has just thrown his name into the mix. That being said, no way in hell is Jisung going to reveal the context to him, so he will unfortunately just have to deal with it.

Laying back in his seat and ignoring Changbin's giggles, Jisung closes his eyes, focusing on the sensation of air entering and leaving his lungs. After a moment, he hears everyone else going back to what they were doing, and he lets his mind flicker back to the fanfiction. To the nobles in a garden, about to reveal one another's faces.

Shit.

He really needs to keep reading.

Stepping out of the van, Jisung's head is practically buried in his phone. Fictional Minho didn't end up killing fictional him, but not because he didn't mean to – no – because someone else entered the garden right at that moment, and the two men startled, fleeing hand-in-hand. Before they knew it, they'd made it to a dark, secluded area behind the ballroom. Masks were removed, and Minho knew immediately that he was fucked (head over heels). In another moment of terrible timing, Minho's interdimensional communication device buzzed to life on his wrist, scaring the ever-loving shit out of 1800s Jisung, and, well, long story short, they've escaped together into a cyberpunk dimension. It's a dimension that Minho is familiar with, but now that Minho has betrayed his cause and broken interdimensional law, the two are on the run from law enforcement.

It's a lot to take in, and Jisung has to be dragged away from the story by Chan's firm grip on his shoulder.

Oh yeah, they've arrived.

The building that they'll be spending the next two nights in is fairly nice. It has an older Korean style to it, with stone walls, a large courtyard and grass area, and intricate patterns on the wooden wall panels. Next to it sits another building, presumably where the staff will be sleeping, and Jisung takes a moment to breathe in the fresh air. They're quite a way out of the city, surrounded by various forest areas, so hopefully when night falls the stars will be visible.

Once the group has gathered together fully, the managers go over the plan one more time. This afternoon, they will get into costume, and pretend to be arriving at the house on a family vacation. They'll play a few games to decide what happens for dinner, and how the rooms will be split up. Filming will then cease until the next morning, where the real fun begins. Outside of some staff-led activities, the group will be free to improvise, with a few breaks interspersed throughout the day. The evening will be much the same as the last, but they'll film longer into the night, with the end of the day marking the conclusion of the reality TV show.

Jisung, for one, is incredibly excited. His character may be well known for its… moral dubiousness, but that's what makes it fun. He can create and stir drama, and get in between a certain almost divorced couple that really shouldn't be together anymore. Really, it's a win-win situation.

Jisung's costume is arguably the blandest of the entire group; fake glasses, a plaid shirt, and jeans. Really, it's what he wears on a daily basis anyway, albeit slightly more dad-like. Chan is wearing overalls with light-up sketchers, Seungmin a smart shirt and pants, and Changbin a muscle shirt with a backwards cap. Felix has his hair tied into pigtails once again, although he's wearing a tutu this time instead of hanbok, and Hyunjin's hair is put up in an elegant claw clip that compliments his white blouse. Jeongin's wig is tied into a low pony-tail with bangs, and he's wearing an oversized black sweater with a teddy bear on it.

Minho hasn't returned from the changing rooms yet.

For some reason, Jisung's gut is packed to the brim with butterflies. Genuinely, it's as though he's vibrating with anticipation, and Jeongin keeps casting him sideways looks because of it. His palms are sweaty and he keeps biting his lip, and it's as though his body thinks that he's about to go on stage, not see his best friend in a wig. He remembers vividly the first time that they filmed SKZ Family with good wigs – the way in which a gasp of "Woah, Hyung!" had slipped from his lips the second he laid eyes upon the other man. SKZ Family Jisung may be a terrible person, but he's done well to bag someone like Hyunjin and auntie Lee Know at the same time.

Distantly, Jisung hears Minho's voice, mingling with that of the staff and stylists. From the sound of it they're gushing over him, and as Minho's voice draws closer, Jisung's legs grow weak. Any second now, he'll come into view, and-

Jisung's heart stops in his chest.

Fuck .

It's better than he ever could have anticipated. 

As always, Minho's hair is a long, warm brown colour, and it cascades down his shoulders and back to frame his face. A few silver clips hold stray strands in place, bringing an elegance to the overall look. As for the outfit, Minho is wearing a maroon women's office shirt (presumably chosen to match with Seungmin), with a few of the buttons undone, exposing a scandalous amount of his chest. Additionally, he's wearing a delicate silver necklace and black straight leg pants, that are just tight enough to expose the contours of his thighs as he walks.

Jisung swallows.

Minho, despite his proximity, is still speaking with some of the staff, so Jisung has a chance to take in his face.

Compared to Hyunjin, or even their stage looks, Minho's makeup isn't all that much. Subtle winged eyeliner, a hint of sparkly eyeshadow and his lips – oh god, his lips – are tinted slightly red, contrasting the darker palette of the rest of his outfit. They must have some sort of gloss on them because from where Jisung stands they look so fucking soft . All of that combined with the slope of his nose, his jawline, the way that his shoulders stretch the fabric of the shirt…

"Hyung!" Jeongin says, and Minho turns to face the group, "The shirt suits you!"

"Thanks, Jeongin-ah," Minho responds, but his tone is far more casual than Jisung feels is appropriate. 

“Hyung-,” he cuts in, which is very much a mistake because Jisung knows how dangerous Minho's appearance can be and now he looks like this and he's looking at Jisung and oh shit he's looking at Jisung.

“What?” Minho asks, and Jisung prays the blush on his neck isn't visible from where the other man is standing.

“You look…” he gulps. What on Earth is he supposed to say?!? He may not be the most slick person in the group, but he knows that telling Minho he'd let him step on him is probably not the way to go.

“... Good,” he finishes lamely.

Minho stares at him for a second, and then quirks an eyebrow, “As good as my eyes the other day, or…?”

Jisung presses his lips together. His blush is definitely visible. Fuck 

“... Yes,” he weakly responds. Surely, the other group members think that he's lost it. There's no way he doesn't look like an awkward, fumbling mess right now. No one says anything, though, aside from Minho, whose lips twitch humouredly.

“Thanks, Jisung-ah.”

That's it. Jisung needs to die as soon as humanly possible.

"So!" Seungmin says, standing in front of the group and shaking a pencil tin full of paper slips, "There are five bedrooms, three double, and two single. If you and another person pick each other's name, you have to room together. We'll keep reshuffling the papers until two of the doubles are taken, and then rock, paper, scissors for the rest."

"I don't want to room with any of you!" Jeongin exclaims, to which Changbin gives a dramatic pout, and Jisung chuckles.

After a hearty meal of Korean barbeque, the "family" have all gathered in the lounge area, ready to play their final game of the night. So far, not much drama has occurred in the realm of Jisung and Minho's affair, but Jisung tells himself that there's still time. Hopefully he ends up rooming with the other man tonight, as a dramatic twist to end the day.

"What if Yongbok ends up with Changbin? Won't that be weird?" Hyunjin asks, and Minho throws him a pointed glare, presumably protective of his daughter.

"Jagi, I'm sure it will be fine," Jisung says, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist. From the corner of his eye, he can see Minho looking at him, and he fights back the giddiness that bubbles to life in his chest. He's the first to condemn cheaters in real life, but in a playful situation, it's a thrilling role.

In the first round, no two names are paired. In the second round, Changbin and Chan are paired off together, much to both of their dismay. In the third round, Hyunjin and Jeongin are paired, leaving Jisung, Seungmin, Minho and Felix to play rock paper scissors.

Whoever wins gets to choose what the rooms will be.

Bracing himself, Jisung's pulse races beneath his skin. All he needs to do is win, then he can sweep Minho off his feet bridal style and carry him to their shared bedroom.

The four men hold their fists out, ready to play.

Rock, paper, scissors!

Felix gets out.

Rock, paper, scissors!

Minho gets out, and Jisung's stomach drops. Around the room, the other group members let out shocked gasps. Only he and Seungmin are left. This is no longer just about room placement, and everyone knows it.

Electricity buzzes under Jisung's skin, his competitive spirit threatening to burst out of his body. In his clenched palm, sweat begins to gather.

"Bring it on!" he says, evoking a chorus of "Ooo"s from the other members. Seungmin's lips quirk into a brief smirk, before settling into a charade of nonchalance.

Both men hold out their fists. Jisung swallows.

Rock, paper, scissors!

A tie.

Rock, paper, scissors!

Another tie.

Rock, paper, scissors!

The room bursts into noise, cries and shouts piercing through the silence.

Seungmin looks Jisung dead in the eyes, voice flat and yet somehow the most goading it's ever been.

"My wife stays with me."

Jisung lies in his sad single bed, staring at the sad wooden roof of his sad isolated room. Like a broken record, his mind plays Seungmin's win on repeat. Contrary to what you may think, Jisung wasn't actually that upset at the loss. Sure, it hurt his pride a little, and Seungmin's words hit a sore spot, but he laughed along with the dramatics of the roleplay, and shoved his own personal grief aside.

He was honestly prepared to move on from it all, wrap up the shoot, take off his itchy plaid shirt, and fall asleep as soon as humanly possible. That was, until his world was thrown completely off its axis.

Amidst the commotion after the game, Minho snuck up behind him, leaning over Jisung's shoulder so that his mouth was by his ear. From the proximity, Jisung could feel his long hair brush against his back, and the warmth of his breath on the skin of his neck. Subconsciously, he stilled.

When Minho spoke, his voice was quiet, but tinted with a teasing lilt.

"…What a pity."

Jisung inhaled, eyes widening, but before he could get his bearings, Minho was gone, slinging an arm around Seungmin to drag him into the hallway.

So now Jisung is here, alone, going insane.

He was just acting as his character, he rationalises, but Minho's voice was far too quiet to be picked up by their microphones, and as idols who work with such technology on a daily basis, it couldn't have been a mistake. His words were for Jisung alone, and it's doing his head in.

Minho doesn't like him, he's already established this! So Jisung is just digging himself into a pit of fantastical overthinking surrounding what could potentially have happened had he not lost rock, paper, scissors. So far his imagination has latched on to the fanfiction trope of 'only one bed', forcing them into either a tender moment of vulnerability, or a romantically charged predicament… Or sex.

Jisung doesn't like men, but if Minho had approached him with his costume still on...

His brain unhelpfully supplies him with an image of Minho flushed and leaning against a headboard, shirt unbuttoned and eyes half-lidded.

He rolls over, shoving his face into the plush fabric of his pillow and willing his body to cool down. He really needs to distract himself, because right now Minho is lying in a room nearby, sharing a bed with Seungmin. They could be talking to each other. They could be watching videos together. They could even be cuddling! And that's definitely not something he should have considered because now that ugly sensation is bubbling up in his gut again, and his mental image has changed. Now Minho is flushed and lying on his back as Seungmin looms over him, one hand pinning his wrists above his head while the other trails down his chest and holy shit Jisung needs to stop thinking .

Why is his brain being so irrational?! Minho and Seungmin are obviously close, but Jisung can count the times he's seen them cuddle on one hand. To even imply that they would ever- could ever-

Jisung sits up, breathing heavily. He needs something to distract his mind. Something that will drag his thoughts away from that as thoroughly as possible. Running a hand through his hair, Jisung's memory flickers over to an obsession that he's repressed since stepping out of the van that afternoon.

Even if real life Minho is off limits, surely his fictional, interdimensional travelling counterpart is fine? 

As it turns out, Jisung wasn't the only one with his mind preoccupied by the fanfiction that night. The next morning, as all of the group members are groggily rolling out of bed to get ready for the long day of filming, Changbin approaches Jisung.

"Sung," he greets, snorting at Jisung's half-asleep expression, "I need you to send me something."

"Huh?" Jisung yawns, "Send you what?"

Changbin hesitates, which immediately brings Jisung back to reality.

"What is it?" He asks again, and Changbin seems to get over what was troubling him, because he claps a firm hand on Jisung's shoulder.

"The link to that story from yesterday."

Jisung stares at him blankly before the realisation hits, and he forces himself not to react.

"What story?"

Changbin's face falls, and he grimaces, as though he'd expected this. He probably had.

"You know the one," he says, and Jisung can't stop the corners of his lips from twitching.

"I know, I just want to hear you say it."

Changbin sighs, but after a moment grins as well, and Jisung realises that he made a fatal mistake.

"Sure, Jisung-ah" Changbin says, voice noticeably louder, "I can announce what you were reading. IT WAS A-"

"I'll send you the link!" He yelps, and Changbin beams with satisfaction, patting his shoulder again. Jisung throws it off, mumbling a quiet "prick" under his breath as he digs out his phone from his pocket.

The fic is still open from the far too many hours that he spent reading it overnight, and Jisung makes quick work of sending it to him over text. Looking back up to confirm that the other man received it, Jisung accidentally makes eye contact with Minho, who has somehow slunk into the room over the last few seconds. His expression is unreadable, eyes darting down to Jisung's phone briefly in silent question. As per usual, Jisung's mouth gapes open like a fish, and Minho lets out a small puff of air from his nose. He's gone before Jisung can make up an excuse.

"I told you to tell him," Changbin supplies unhelpfully, so Jisung shoves him.

The morning roleplay goes about as calmly as Jisung expected it to – that is, not at all. Right off the bat, Chan and Felix attempt to make breakfast, but are purposefully incompetent to the extent that Minho banishes them to another room and takes over. Jeongin, fed up with Changbin's antics, begins responding to his flirtatious remarks with jabs of his own, Jisung's personal favourite being when Changbin says "I'll give you my heart", and Jeongin responds with "so dig it out". It's kept Changbin on his feet, which Jisung takes glee in, especially after the stunt he pulled before shoot. Hyunjin has been lazing about and Jisung has been fawning over him with dramatic improvised poems, every so often casting a targeted glance in Minho's direction. Seungmin, in turn, has been keeping an eye on Jisung, under the guise of 'looking out for his brother', which everyone knows is a lie. At one point, when Seungmin left to do something, Jisung slipped into the kitchen, surprising Minho with a swift back hug that tinted his ears red. Jisung made sure to stare directly into the closest camera.

Before lunch they all play a game of UNO with no English, naturally causing a ruckus. Chan wins, but when he receives the prize of a SKZOO merch set, he disperses it among the group members anyway. Jisung originally ends up with a Hanquokka notepad, but Minho snatches it out of his hands and replaces it with his Leebit sleeping mask, which Jisung tucks into his pocket without question.

It's definitely been fun, but outside of the jokes and playful improvisations, a sense of anticipation has been buzzing throughout the house as well. The further time ticks along, the more palpable the anticipation becomes, until finally, after lunch, they filter out of the house in new athletics-appropriate outfits, and make their way to a new location.

You see, there's a reason the staff rented out a place so far in the middle of nowhere, when everything they've done thus far could easily be achieved in the CBD.

They needed a forest.

That's right, the newest instalment of SKZ Family features a larger scale game than Stray Kids have ever done before: A treasure hunt.

The forest area that they will be using isn't overly dense or difficult to get around, making it perfect for running and jumping and chasing. The staff have used thick red string to mark the borders of the area the game takes place in, with periodic neon flags acting as another measure of assurance that no one will get lost. That being said, every group member will have a cameraman following them, because the rules of the game go as such:

• Each group member has an assigned colour.
• Throughout the forest, ribbons in these colours have been dispersed.
• There are seven ribbons per colour, aka, seven ribbons for each member to collect.
• The first person to gather all seven and return to the starting point wins, and gets a cash prize.
• The top four get to choose what is for dinner, while the bottom four have to clean up afterwards.
• When someone makes it back to the starting point successfully, the staff will ring a gong to let the other players know.
• The cut off time is one hour.

The dedicated starting point is a five minute walk from the house, and is marked by a cluster of tents with staff and recording equipment. Once the cameras are set up and their hair, wigs and makeup are touched up, the shoot starts, and each member digs their hand into a cloth bag to pull out a marble in their dedicated colour.

Fate must be on Jisung's side, because he chooses neon pink. Hyunjin, on the other hand, gets brown, so Jisung takes it upon himself to dramatically assure him that he'll love him even when he loses. Minho gets yellow, Jeongin gets purple, Chan gets blue, Changbin gets red, Felix gets orange, and to Jisung's amusement, Seungmin gets green.

Good luck finding that!

The day is bright, the sky is clear, and everyone gets geared up to play.

Most of the time, when Stray Kids play sports, they don't take it very seriously, because half of the group are clumsy and unathletic. That being said, on this fine afternoon, competitive spirit runs high. Chan jogs on the spot to pump himself up, while Hyunjin stretches standing up. Changbin, Seungmin, and Jeongin all sit down to stretch their legs, while Felix and Jisung take some playful jabs at one another to get their adrenaline going. Minho does lunges, which Jisung finds to be incredibly distracting, as the fabric of his shorts does nothing to hide his thighs. That, combined with Minho's long hair, gets Felix at least three wins.

Moving to the starting cones, they situate themselves into a haphazard line – haphazard because everyone wants to be the furthest forwards. When Minho slips past Jisung, he slaps his ass, which proves to be an effective mental blow that has him reeling until the staff get ready to count down.

Jisung focuses back in, crouched and ready to run. Underneath his skin, energy buzzes.

He can do this.

Three…

Two…

One…

GO!

Jisung may not be overly tall or athletic, but two things are for sure: he can sprint, and he's nimble as fuck. Blood rushing and a wide smile plastered to his face, he almost feels bad for the cameraman trying to keep up with him as he darts and weaves through trees, eyes scanning for a hint of pink in the brush.

His game plan is simple: GO! GO! GO! Until he's too exhausted to continue. It's clear from the outset why they have an hour to find all seven ribbons – the forest space is vast, and Jisung has already lost sight of the other members. He's glad that he has a cameraman with him, otherwise he'd be a lot more scared right n-

Jisung's eyes latch on to a tree to his right. Hanging from one of the branches is a neon pink ribbon, and he swiftly jogs over to tear it down.

Yes! Not even five minutes in!

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jisung worries that his luck will run out, but fate truly seems to be on his side today, as he quickly finds another ribbon, then another, then another. It may be rigged, but he’s been zigzagging chaotically as fast as possible, so there’s no real rhyme or reason to the ribbons he’s found.

On top of this, he stumbles across the ribbons of other members as well; a few orange, a yellow, and a purple. At one point, he runs into Felix and they do a brief check in.

"How many have you got?" Jisung asks, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Only two so far, you?" Felix responds through heavy breaths.

Jisung smiles, "Five."

Felix's jaw drops, and Jisung can almost see his brain's conflict. He must be considering whether or not to sabotage him – preventing him from getting a win so quickly. Unwilling to risk it, Jisung continues on his way, throwing a cheery "good luck!" over his shoulder and starting to jog once more.

Soon afterwards, he stumbles across the bright red border of the game zone. Beyond the string, the forest continues, and a little way down he can see a small creek, surrounded by large, flat rocks that glow in the afternoon sun. It's a beautiful location, but unfortunately he's preoccupied.

Glancing back around the game zone, Jisung's eye catches on to two silhouettes walking in the distance, presumably another group member. Upon closer inspection, he finds it to be Kim Seungmin, and...

Wait.

Is that?

No fucking way.

Hanging from one of Seungmin's pockets is the very same neon pink colour as Jisung's ribbons. As it turns out, Felix wasn't the one to fear. Seungmin's goal to sabotage him has already been put into action!

Fortunately, Seungmin hasn't noticed his presence as of yet, so Jisung motions for his cameraman to quietly follow behind him. Then, they start sneaking forwards. He knows that they will likely be exposed by the leaves that decorate the dirt forest floor, but he'll take as much time as he can get.

Precisely as predicted, Seungmin looks up when Jisung is around ten metres away from him, freezes, smiles... and then books it.

Fiery passion bursts to life in Jisung's chest, propelling him forwards as fast as he can go. The chase is hectic as Seungmin twists and turns and tries to lose Jisung in the brush, but Jisung is agile and driven and very quickly catches up to him. A swift arm out and a strong grip brings them both to a halt, Seungmin heaving heavy lungfuls of air, but laughing all the same. Seeing his smile, Jisung can't help but to laugh as well.

Not wasting any time, Jisung digs his hand into Seungmin's pocket and pulls out two of his ribbons.

"These," he says, holding them up to Seungmin's face, "aren't yours."

"Mine are impossible to find!" Seungmin retaliates, still grinning, "It's way more fun to stop other people from winning."

At that, Jisung's mind darts back to his objective: Find seven ribbons. He had five, and now he has two more... 

Eyes widening, he stumbles away, ignoring Seungmin's confused expression.

Which way is the starting point?!

Head in his hands, he wracks his brain. Then he remembers – the forest is situated on a slight hill, and the starting point is on higher ground.

He sprints. As fast as his aching legs can go. Heart pounding, tents soon reveal themselves through the trees, and Jisung breaks out into the open, throwing himself over the starting line and collapsing onto the ground. His lungs feel like lava in his chest and he may have accidentally bitten his tongue, but when the staff collect his ribbons, hand him a water bottle, and confirm that he's won first place, it's all worth it.

12 minutes and 34 seconds.

The staff ring the gong, and its resonant sound pierces through the forest, letting the other members know that someone has claimed victory.

Staring into the cameras facing him, he slips into his role as a father, and makes a few remarks about team spirit, winning, and his love for his wife, family, and sister-in-law.

Satisfied, the staff take off the microphone attached to his clothes, and hand him a towel to wipe his sweat. Chugging down more water, Jisung realises that all he has left to do now is wait. He could use his phone to read more of the fanfiction he's so dearly attached to, but another, better idea surfaces in his mind.

It takes a bit of convincing, alongside reassurance from his cameraman that they will be able to find him, but Jisung manages to get the go-ahead to venture back into the forest.

Specifically, to the small creek that he'd noticed before, with lush surroundings and large, flat stones – perfect for lying on. Now that he's finished the game, he's able to truly appreciate being out in nature, breathing in fresh air and surrounded by wildlife.

The stones are warm as he sits down, but not uncomfortably so. Before he lies back, he stretches his arms out, and revels in the quiet cracking of some of his joints.

Really, this would be the perfect spot to take a nap, if not for one thing...

The fucking glare from the afternoon sun on the water. He's not being dramatic when he says that, every other second, his vision is painfully impaired. Even with his eyes shut, the lids are illuminated.

He's honestly ready to just suck it up and grit his teeth through the pain, when he realises a solution that's been with him the entire time.

The Leebit sleeping mask.

When they'd gotten changed into their sport-appropriate clothes, Jisung hadn't had anywhere to put it, so he shoved it into his back pocket and forgot about it.

Now, it serves as the perfect way to block out the glare, and Jisung's heart swells with fulfilment.

He doesn't know how long he lies there for, listening to the sound of the creek water rushing beside him. At one point, the gong rings again in the distance, signalling a second place winner, and Jisung finds it amusing that the other members are probably stressed about finding their ribbons while he rests here in bliss.

Truly, everything is calm, peaceful, and nice.

... Until it isn't.

Quietly at first, but getting closer, Jisung hears the sound of footsteps.

A chill runs down his spine, and he props himself up onto his elbows.

"Who is it?" He says, to no response. The footsteps simply get closer, and closer, and Jisung reaches up to pull the mask away from his face when-

"Jagiya!"

Instantly, Jisung relaxes, hand falling from the mask to support his weight on the rock once more.

"You scared me!" He says once Minho's footsteps are right beside him, and the other man chuckles a little.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you were wearing that."

"The glare was annoying," Jisung defends himself, and he can hear the plants around him shift as Minho sits down, knee pressed against Jisung's torso.

"How many ribbons do you have?" Jisung asks, and Minho doesn't respond for a moment, presumably counting them.

"I need one more," he says at last, "but I'm not too fussed about winning."

Jisung hums in understanding. While Minho has the potential to be a dangerous enemy, he's never been one for sports and competitions.

"Where's your cameraman?" Jisung asks, belatedly realising that only Minho seems to be present.

"He's back up at the border, filming this scandalous scene from a distance," Minho responds, and Jisung is struck with the fact that they are supposed to be acting as SKZ Family. He'd completely forgotten about it.

"What are you doing down here, anyway?" Minho now asks, and Jisung flashes him a grin.

"I won."

"Oh," Minho says, mildly surprised, "how did you manage that?"

Jisung goes to whack him, but his hand makes contact with a patch of grass, and Minho laughs. The sound is pleasant, bringing a warm sensation to Jisung’s heart. He tries to imagine Minho beside him right now, wearing his wig and doused in the afternoon sun.

"You can lie down again," Minho softly supplies, and Jisung realises that his elbows are aching from digging into the rock for so long. They must be red. Taking Minho up on his word, he falls back slowly, but when he expects his head to meet the ground, it finds Minho's hand instead, softening the blow.

Another smile pulls on his cheeks, but it slowly fades as a new energy fills the air around them.

Minho hasn't said anything to cause such a switch, but Jisung can feel his eyes on him, and he suddenly feels exposed – stripped bare with no true idea of what the other man is doing. An almost palpable tension hovers between them, evoking a twisting, fluttering sensation in Jisung's chest.

He tries to recall why Minho is here in the first place.

…To film what seems to be a scandalous affair. Right. 

"Hyung," Jisung says into the air, voice less confident than he'd like it to be, "you should pretend to kiss me. For the camera."

He doesn't get a response immediately, so nerves start to prick under his skin. The sound of water flows into their conversation, alongside the distant hum of insects buzzing. In the afternoon sun, Jisung's lips have grown dry, so he flicks out his tongue to wet them, and only then does he hear Minho move slightly.

“Hyung?” Jisung timidly breathes.

What he doesn’t anticipate, is the hand that comes to rest on his jaw.

Minho's hands, like much of his body, have been hardened by years of dancing, yet his touch on Jisung's skin is tender. Slowly, his thumb slides over to rest on Jisung's bottom lip.

Oh. He's actually going to do it.

A blush starts to creep up Jisung's neck and he swallows, strength rapidly slipping away from his limbs, despite the knowledge that this is all for the camera.

When Minho speaks, his voice is strained and quiet, as though talking to himself.

"Pretend to kiss you?"

His thumb gently drags over Jisung's lip, before applying light downwards pressure. Jisung pliantly relaxes his jaw, letting his mouth fall open a little, and Minho inhales sharply.

They sit in a moment of silence, before Minho moves swiftly and all at once, leaning over Jisung to bring their faces close together. When Minho's nose grazes against his own, Jisung's pulse jackrabbits, but his body feels as though it's been immobilised with anticipation.

Against his lip, Minho's thumb quivers, and his breath fans over Jisung's skin, a clear presence despite the darkness Jisung drowns in.

A moment passes, and Minho jolts back with a gasp, stumbling to his feet. His footsteps seem to hesitate for a moment, but they fade into the distance without any accompanying words, leaving Jisung alone with nothing but his racing heart and flurrying thoughts.

He doesn't take off the mask.

He doesn't close his mouth.

He doesn't even breathe.

Because, for one brief moment, Minho's lips had brushed against his own.

The rest of the afternoon is a hazy blur, as Jisung tries to act normal and tries to clear his mind but can't overcome the way it races at a thousand kilometres an hour just replaying and replaying and replaying an interaction that was barely five minutes long. The game finishes and Jisung is brought back to the starting point, slipping into the crowd of the other group members as they rave on and on about mid-competition shenanigans.

After a few minutes, the staff reveal the results and they go completely over his head. If he was paying attention, however, he'd learn that the times went as such:

1st: HAN- 12:34

2nd: Lee Know- 23:04

3rd: Bang Chan- 28:12

4th: I.N- 35:40

5th: Felix- 35:50

6th: Changbin- 43:32

7th: Hyunjin- 59:21

8th: Seungmin- 1:00:00

Additionally, if he was paying attention, he'd realise that something is strange about these times.

Instead, he's incredibly preoccupied, because Minho refuses to look at him, speak to him, or face in his general direction, which feels like a red hot iron stabbing through his chest whenever he tries to catch his eye.

Jisung is fine. Definitely. 100% A-Ok. Completely normal. Thriving, actually. If you were to ask him how he's feeling, he'd say "Gee, I'm so glad you asked! I'm very happy and content right now!"

Hyunjin slings an arm around Jisung's shoulders, but before he can say anything, Jisung blurts out the other thing on his mind, "Where's his wig?"

Hyunjin's brows furrow, before he brightens up and barks out a laugh.

"Oh, Minho-hyung? It got caught in a tree at the beginning of the race," he humouredly slaps Jisung's shoulder at the memory, "It was so funny – I was running near him and all I heard was a yell, and when I looked back he was tangled up in a branch!"

Jisung really wants to find it funny. He wants to laugh and match Hyunjin's energy, but all he can manage is a weak smile and a strained, "I see..."

So he wasn't wearing it at the creek.

Technically, it changes nothing. At the same time, it changes everything, and somewhere in Jisung's gut the twisting, fluttering sensation reappears. But now is not the time for that, because currently his relationship with his hyung is on the precipice of a cliff and Jisung desperately wants to drag it back onto safer ground.

More than anything, he feels guilty. He asked Minho to pretend to kiss him, and then when Minho did so and accidentally misjudged the distance between them, he freaked out and fled. Jisung also freaked out, but that doesn't matter right now. In the time between the incident and the end of the game, he'd rationalised that Minho couldn't have done it on purpose, because he would have no reason to. Therefore, the most logical understanding of the situation is that Jisung fucked up by asking him to do something intimate in the first place.

But now Minho won't even acknowledge his existence, which is the worst thing Jisung has ever experienced in his entire life.

When it comes to the prizes that he wins for coming first, the cash doesn't matter to him in the slightest. Instead, his nerves are buzzing as he, Minho, Chan and Jeongin gather around to discuss what they'd like for dinner, and while Minho confidently takes part in the discussion, Jisung is disappointed to find that he keeps up the avoidance act. To combat this, Jisung makes a point to only suggest foods that he knows the other man likes – even compromising his own tastes to suggest something spicy! While this doesn't evoke a direct conversation, Minho clearly catches onto his intention, and with furrowed brows suggests opposing foods that he knows Jisung would prefer. It's a small acknowledgement, but Jisung can barely hold back his smile. Now he knows, at the very least, that Minho doesn't hate him.

As the group gather in the lounge area after dinner, Minho sinks onto one of the couches, and like a bee drawn to honey, Jisung plonks into the spot right next to him. The man is still yet to say a word to him, but throughout their meal, Jisung had caught him looking his way, which is yet another win. In the other room, the four losing members loudly complain about their dishwashing duties, a task that Jisung had made sure to tease them about. He considers playing into his character and shouting out to his wife, but he's been acting for most of the day, and really just wants to cuddle the man beside him.

Unlike usual, there's a gap between them. It's only a few centimetres in width, but the lack of bodily warmth is devastating, and every vein in Jisung's body wants to just fuck it and nuzzle into him like he would any other day. Unfortunately, the staff approaching them throws this idea out of the window, as they are told the rules of the last game they'll play – another sleeping arrangement decider.

Jisung knows one thing for sure. This time, no matter what, he needs to end up with Minho.

By the time the whole group has gathered in a circle, Minho has slipped away to a spot as far from Jisung as possible. The stylists have magically fixed his wig, which Jisung should be happy about, but it falls limply over Minho's shoulders, a lifeless addition to his subtly ashen expression. Jisung can't remember why he liked the look of it in the first place.

"Alright, everyone!" Jeongin waves his arms out and takes a small step forward, "For our last game on this family trip, we are going to be playing Stray Kids musical statues."

"Wait!" Changbin exclaims, "Grandma isn't here! She would love this!"

Jeongin casts him a sideways glance, clearly considering whether to do a brief humorous impression of his alternate character. He holds himself back, however, and dramatically clears his throat.

"The rules are simple! Dance to the songs, and freeze when they pause. Whoever freezes last loses the round, and by the end of the game we'll have a ranking to work with. Winner gets to decide their sleeping arrangement, and then the choice goes down the ladder."

Everyone nods, but Jisung speaks up, directing his question half to Jeongin and half to the directors off camera.

"Can we choose specific people to stay with, rather than Just the rooms?"

"You just want to sleep with my wife!" Seungmin calls out, eliciting a few laughs, and Jisung's jaw drops as he glances around the circle. It's technically true, but he points out a finger instead, squaring his shoulders, "You're one to talk! Where did you go with my wife this afternoon?"

Once their banter has died down, the staff let them know that yes, if they desperately want to, they can forcibly room with people who rank lower than them. Jisung feels Minho's eyes flit over to him for a split second. Despite his elation towards the clarification, a foreboding tightness grips at his chest. Something tells Jisung that Minho wants to win, purely from a desire to avoid him.

The first song to play is Thunderous, and while Jisung dances half-heartedly, he's fully alert. If he's going to succeed in this, he needs to be at the top of his game, because Minho is a professional fucking dancer, and can probably defeat him with his eyes closed.

The song pauses, and instantly Jisung tightens his muscles, freezing.

Chan is eliminated first – he was stuck in an awkward position that compromised his reaction time, and he laughs good-naturedly as he sits down to the side. Then, he remembers that he's supposed to be five, and plays up a dramatic pout of frustration.

The second song is Boxer, and the group jumps back into action, dancing choreography from a vague mess of the group's entire discography. Jisung keeps a keen eye on Minho, watching his precise moves and smooth footwork despite the light-hearted situation, and a mild sense of admiration towards the man bubbles up inside of him.

The song pauses, Jisung freezes, and Minho… finishes his move, and walks himself to the side…? Silence hangs for a moment, while everyone tries to process this apparent self-sacrifice, but overall it isn't considered a big deal. It's Minho, after all, and all it means is that he's relinquished his choice in bedroom.

While dancing to the next song, DLC, Jisung realises that Minho's choice puts the decision in his hands. If anything, Minho chose to lose precisely because he wants to see what Jisung will do, and doesn't believe that he'll go ahead with a shared room (and bed!) after the earlier incident.

Little does he know, Jisung is one hell of a driven man.

The next song is Miroh, and Changbin is mid-spin when the music stops.

Then, the song is Astronaut, and Felix loses in a blaze of glory, as he trips and tumbles into three other people.

Then, it's Give Me Your TMI, where Seungmin is slow to pause his movements. Watching him shuffle to the side, relief floods Jisung's chest. He now basically has first dibs at Minho, which proves to be a good thing, because he loses the next round, ironically while dancing to Easy. He's a bit disappointed that he didn't come out on top, but he rationalises that Hyunjin and Jeongin will either choose each other, Felix, or Changbin, if they choose a double bed at all. Minho just isn't on their list of bed-mate preferences.

Before the final round begins, Jeongin flips his wig over his shoulder with a dramatic flourish, and pierces Hyunjin with a taunting stare. It's a battle between two gorgeous SKZ Family women, and the room is tense with anticipation.

The music starts, as do the cheers, and the song, appropriately, is Freeze. It's a high-energy, captivating competition, as all of the group members cheer them on with various levels of intensity. Changbin, stuck between the love of his life and the love of his life, opts to simply shout both of their names in rapid succession, drawing a few laughs.

The song pauses mid-chorus, and both men freeze so suddenly and purposefully that the staff have to rewatch the footage. At last, they announce that Jeongin came out on top, and he raises his arms in the air as a chorus of claps and whistles applaud his victory. Before long, he's tackled into a tight embrace by Hyunjin, who exclaims that he'll "gladly take defeat" for the younger, temporarily disregarding their lack of clear relation in the SKZ Family dynamic.

Once everything has settled down, it's time to choose the rooms.

Jisung knows that there's a 99% chance that he'll get what he wants, but subtle anxiety buzzes within him regardless. The 1%, as unlikely as it may be, is still a possibility.

The group all sit down on the floor, facing the camera, while Jeongin stands up to announce his decision, and Changbin slaps his knees in anticipation.

"I will be choosing…" He slowly says, before taking a deep breath, "One of the solo rooms."

The group cries out, and Changbin exaggeratedly grabs his head in his hands.

"How could you forsake me like this? After everything I've done for you!" He yells, eyes pleading, but Jeongin casts his signature disinterested expression, ending both the conversation and their SKZ Family arc, with a line that bites; 

"I'm not into younger guys."

Behind his gasp of shock, Jisung admires Jeongin’s unwavering certitude towards his character’s feelings. He definitely can’t relate.

Hyunjin is next, standing up and dusting off his clothes. He holds himself regally, regarding the others as though they aren't worthy of his attention.

"I… Will be taking the other solo room."

Once again, the group roars out, and Jisung realises with elation that he's been kicked out of his bed from the previous night. Whether he likes it or not, he must share with another member, aka, the perfect excuse for what he's about to do. Jumping to his feet, (and ignoring all staff instruction), he hurriedly pushes Hyunjin back down, and throws a dramatic arm out to point at Minho.

"Hyung, you're coming with me!"

After filming has finally, finally wrapped up for the night, and everyone has shifted into their new rooms, Jisung grapples with the new task at hand. He needs to address the… intimate moment he and Minho shared, and clear the air between them.

Pacing into their shared room from the hallway, freshly showered, Jisung finds that Minho is just about ready to go to sleep. Dark shadows hang in the room where the soft, golden, bedside lamp light doesn't reach, and Minho is already bundled up in the covers of the bed. Despite his position sitting propped against the headboard, the voluminous white fabric is pulled up to his chin, and Jisung can tell that his arms and legs are tucked close to his body. His hair is damp but fluffy, and when Jisung makes his entrance, his eyes sleepily crack open to regard the other man.

Adoration floods Jisung's body, temporarily robbing him of his voice.

He should say something. Anything, really, but he hadn't anticipated Minho looking so soft , and it's a distracting juxtaposition to the cold SKZ Family persona Jisung has been dealing with all day. In the back of his mind, the earlier game flashes – Minho's shocked expression when Jisung made his choice. It had only appeared on his face for a split second, but it plays in Jisung's brain like a broken record.

Without a word, Jisung slides the door shut behind him, and paces around to the opposite side of the double bed, slipping under the covers and immediately relaxing into the soft material. He'd exerted himself today, and he feels his stiff muscles as he stretches his limbs out with a groan. He, too, sits up against the headboard, and pulls the covers to his chin.

There. Now they're sharing the same space. They still aren't cuddling, but Jisung takes the fact that they are successfully in close proximity as progress.

"Hyung," he quietly starts, and the older man shifts to look at him, the lower half of his face obscured now, so that it's just his eyes peeking out. Jisung can't help the huff of fondness that escapes his chest, and reaches over with the intent to ruffle a hand in his hair. Minho jerks away before he can do so, an abrupt reminder of what Jisung is actually here to discuss.

Letting his arm drop down and taking a deep breath, he bites the bullet.

"It wasn't your fault. The kiss, I mean. The fake kiss."

Minho's brows furrow almost instantly, and his obscured grip on the covers tightens, dragging more over to his side. Jisung rushes to explain himself.

"I was the one who told you to do it. It wasn't even a good idea, but I told you to do it for the camera and, sure, you, ah, misjudged the distance a little, but that doesn't even matter! I know that you didn't do it on purpose, and I'm, well, you know , so it doesn't have to mean anything! It doesn’t mean anything. It didn't mean anything in the first place. So you don't have to worry about me being weird about it or anything, and we can stop… stop dancing around each other. I really couldn't take it when you wouldn't look at me this afternoon so I don't think I could- If you were to keep on-"

"Jisung-" Minho cuts in, and Jisung shuts up. This entire time, while he's been ranting on this crazed tangent, he's been losing breath, and his voice has grown into something pathetic and desperate. Minho's expression at first was largely guarded and confused, but Jisung noticed that as he continued, it fell into a mellower, more sympathetic look, which eventually culminated in the lowering of the covers from his face, and his voice entering their conversation for the first time.

"It's okay," Minho continues, "I was… distancing myself, because I thought that you would be mad at me."

Jisung shakes his head so quickly that he strains some of the muscles in his neck, and winces. He presses his fingers into the area, massaging while he responds.

"Hyung, do you even know me? I try to kiss the other members all the time! I even have a nickname to do with it!"

Minho lets out a humoured huff, and reaches over to push Jisung's hand away, his own hand taking over the job. Jisung melts into the warm touch, eyelids instinctively fluttering shut.

"Still..." Minho says, trailing off, and a brief silence follows, tainted only by the sound of shifting fabric as Minho skillfully unravels the tense knot in Jisung's neck. Once he's satisfied with his job, Minho harshly digs a finger into his skin one last time, drawing an "ow!" from Jisung, and a playful glare. Jisung slaps his hand away, but rather than allowing distance to settle between them again, he shuffles over to press against Minho's side, scratching the intangible itch he's felt all afternoon. In some ways, it feels like two magnets finally snapping together, after an eternity of being held back.

Minho doesn't make any comments, but slings an arm around the younger's shoulder, securing them in place.

Now that Jisung is here, comfortable, and satisfied, he really can't think of anything he'd rather be doing. Life is good, Minho is present, and in the grand scheme of things, he's in the middle of reading a great fanfiction.

Wait.

Fuck.

He really wants to read more of the fanfiction.

The previous night, he'd fallen asleep mid-chapter, and he's yet to find out what will become of fictional Minho's plan to break fictional Jisung out of the pirate ship holding cell that he was thrown into at the end of the previous chapter.

"Why does your face look like that- what are you thinking?" Minho's voice breaks through his thoughts, but, once again, Jisung is at a loss for words. He can't make up an excuse, because it will be obvious and he really doesn't want to create another rift between them right now. Minho seems to catch on to his thoughts, though, and lets out a small sigh.

"I don't understand why you keep hiding it from me. I'm not going to… scold you, or anything, if it's something bad. I just want to know."

Jisung casts his gaze to the blankets, but knows deep within his heart that the time has finally come. He may not tell Minho the whole truth, but he deserves to know some of it.

"I…" He starts, voice quiet, and he can feel Minho's eyes bore into him, "I've been reading, ah, anime fanfiction."

Silence hangs in the air.

Jisung swallows.

"…Is that all?" Minho finally asks, and Jisung meets his eyes, nodding and pursing his lips.

" That's what all of this has been about?" Minho breathes, fixing him with a look that says 'really?', "Anime fanfiction… Jisung, I've read fanfiction before. Not a lot, but some of my friends are really into it."

Jisung doesn't know how to respond to that. Somehow, he'd expected Minho to take this information very differently – to judge him and think that he's weird and gross and off-putting. Instead, Minho is judging him for assuming that he'd judge him, which Jisung supposes is better.

Minho shakes his head, "I thought that it had something to do with me, from how you were acting."

"I'm sorry," Jisung apologises, to which Minho flicks his forehead.

"There," he says, "no more secrets."

"What? Did you just do something to my brain?" Jisung jokes, and Minho plays along, smirking.

"Just try to keep another secret from me – you won't see what's coming until it's too late."

Jisung dramatically shivers, "Hyung, you're evil!"

At this, Minho breaks character and laughs, and warmth floods Jisung's chest. He watches as the other man’s eyes turn into crescents, and his lips pull back to reveal a wide smile, and it’s inevitable that affection fills Jisung’s chest like helium. The grin that pulls on his cheeks is the happiest he’s shown all day.

In hindsight, Jisung thinks it really was silly of him to be so apprehensive about telling him the truth (or rather, partial truth) to Minho. Minho is his reliable hyung, his best friend, and soulmate, and nothing can change that.

That night, Jisung dreams of Stray Kids winning a Grammy.

Chapter Text

-

The world around them warps, like thousands of galaxies compressing and expanding in a whirlwind of colour and light and sound. The chaotic roar of clashing dimensions tears through space and time, a cacophony of cars, gunfire, thunderstorms, sirens, orchestras, metalwork, rivers and electricity – an infinite spiral consuming all that is in its path.

Minho should be swept away by such disorder – shredded alongside the dregs of all reality – but two things hold him pinned to the small shielded island on which he stands: the device on his wrist, and the man before him.

Jisung's hands cup Minho's face, bloodied and dirtied yet unfathomably tender. His hair whips around in the wind and his parted lips are pale and dry, but his eyes shine up at Minho with the unwavering naive determination that he's held onto since the night they met.

"Hyung!" He yells, worn voice cutting through the mayhem, blessing Minho's ears like birdsong on a battlefield, "You can fix this! You know what to do now!"

Minho's hold on the younger's waist tightens and he shakes his head, tear tracks stinging on his cheeks. While the lump in his throat amplifies the stuttering of his lungs, his legs buckle, and he's barely able to hold himself together.

Minho's chest feels as though it's packed with shards of glass, mutilating his words as he chokes them out.

"I can't leave you here!"

He won't do it.

He isn't strong enough.

He can't go back.

"Don't worry about me!" Jisung responds, fingers sliding to firmly hold the older man's jaw, drawing him closer. There are tears in his eyes – Minho can see them, but he blinks them back before they can fall, "I'll be right there waiting for you!"

Tightly squeezing his eyes shut, Minho forcefully shakes his head again.

"I will!" Jisung asserts, brows furrowing, but his voice wavers, nails digging into Minho's skin.

Minho wants to scream. Wants to cry out in anguish, rip his heart from his chest, and ask how on Earth it could ever be the same?

The Jisung from back then isn't him.

Isn't the Jisung that Minho's spent countless nights beside, through cities and forests and wide open ocean.

Isn't the Jisung that bandaged Minho's bloodied limbs, supported him like a lifeline and sang to him when the days began to grow darker.

Isn't the Jisung that bashfully presented him with an armful of Cosmos flowers, smiling with heart-shaped lips and crescent eyes under the warm hues of a summer sunset.

Isn't the Jisung that he clings to in this very moment.

The air around them is icy and piercing, a reminder that their time and safety is rapidly depleting. Soon, everything will be gone, pulled into the wreckage of all reality, never to return.

"I will!" Jisung yells again, this time with more conviction in his voice. Minho opens his eyes to find that Jisung's are wide, glistening in the flurry of lights around them, "Space and time be damned! Even if- even if at first I don't remember you, I'll come back! I promise I will! You just need to have faith in me, hyung!"

He pauses, chest heaving, and Minho watches as the pearlescent drops of water on his lash line finally spill over, trailing a shimmering path down his flushed cheeks.

Jisung is terrified.

Of course he is, he's going to die.

But he's acting strong because that's what Minho needs, because Minho is a weak, selfish man who'd prioritise dying with him over what he really needs to do.

Minho leans forwards, pressing his forehead against the younger's. When their lips slot together, it's perfect in a dry, messy, desperate kind of way.

"I love you," he gasps into the space between them, and Jisung slumps into his arms, head nuzzling into his neck and fingers tightly curling into Minho's jacket. Minho's arms hang down to rest on his lower back, and Jisung's voice rings out, almost too quiet to be heard.

"...You know I love you more."

 Just as Minho moves to pull him further into the crushing embrace, Jisung's trembling hand finds its way to Minho's wrist, pressing the device's calibrated button before Minho can make any move to stop him.

It clicks into place.

Minho stops breathing, and feels Jisung's fingers slot between his own, squeezing reassuringly.

Then, Minho blinks his eyes open, and finds himself standing under the moon, in a garden, alone. The ambience of insects fills the air, and nearby stands a grand building, flooded with warm light and the sound of music and laughter.

Minho rips the elegant black mask from his face and falls to his knees, throwing up.

-

Jisung throws his phone. It lands on a pile of clothes at the end of his bed, but he doesn't care about that right now. Instead, he stands up, eyes wide, and starts pacing in circles. Circle after circle after circle, until he's too dizzy to continue. Then, he fetches his phone, and sits right back down.

-

Sweat trickles down his forehead as he heaves, nausea and fear punctuated by his crushing grip on the cold grass below him.

He can't do this.

He isn't strong enough.

Somewhere in that building, Han Jisung stands, tapping his foot in time with the quartet's compound rhythms. Somewhere in that building, Han Jisung stands, innocent and trusting and eager and-

Minho dry heaves, lungs aching and tears blurring his vision.

Last time, they made the wrong decisions. Minho chose to keep Jisung alive, but didn't know how to tackle such decision until it was too late.

Now, he has a second chance.

Through Minho's mind flashes Jisung's unwavering, naïve, determined stare – his selfless façade of strength.

("Space and time be damned! Even if- even if at first I don't remember you, I'll come back! I promise I will!")

Logically, Minho knows it's impossible. Jisung is dead. He's never coming back. The masked version of the younger man who exists now is nothing but a blank slate. Minho could walk away from the ball, get someone else to carry out his task, and Jisung would be none the wiser.

He'd just be dead.

Again.

("You just need to have faith in me, hyung!")

It's impossible for his Jisung to return, and it's impossible for this Jisung to love him the same.

And yet…

Minho has to try. Even if he's a blank slate. Even if he grows to hate him, Minho can't watch him suffer again.

Turning his head to look at the ballroom, Minho clenches his teeth.

("...You know I love you more.")

He has to do this.

For Jisung.

The End.

-

Jisung rereads the words 'The End' roughly ten times in a row before sharply inhaling and casting his gaze to the roof. He isn't crying, because he'd exhausted his tear supply a few chapters ago, so now he's just overwhelmed and unable to express it properly.

Well… That was certainly an ending.

Probably the worst possible ending, actually.

He's dedicated hours and hours of his life to this story, just for his fictional equivalent to get brutally shredded into the destruction of all space and time. What the fuck?! After everything that they went through as well! Jisung’s character didn’t almost lose a leg, learn how to fight, and give up everything he had ever known, just to fuel the trauma-based dreams Minho’s fictional counterpart will inevitably experience! He should be there, waking him up from the dreams with a hug and a warm drink, not three feet under!

If it wasn’t already obvious, Jisung is unsatisfied. Rationally, he knows that the fanfiction was overarchingly an amazing reading experience, but everything has been thrown off by that last small section.

What he really needs to do is talk to someone about it. He needs to ramble and rant all of the thoughts that are flying through his head to anyone kind enough to not tell him to shut up. He can't do that with Minho, because he'd definitely accidentally let slip the character names, and then his whole world would come crashing down.

Before he knows it, he's pulled on a pair of platform converse and is walking out of the dorm, feet carrying him down the street. Hyunjin opens the door for him when he arrives at his and Changbin's dorm, raising an eyebrow at Jisung's flushed and unkempt appearance.

"Is Changbin-hyung here?" he asks in lieu of a greeting, slipping off his shoes, and Hyunjin crosses his arms, snorting.

"Is this about that fanfiction?" He asks, and Jisung nods before freezing, eyes slowly widening.

"How…?" He trails off, even though he already knows the answer.

"He won't stop going on and on about it," Hyunjin groans, dramatically tilting his head back, "If I have to hear one more word about- "

"Oh, Jisung!" Changbin greets as he emerges from the hallway, but doesn't expect the younger man to pin him with a glare, arm swinging out to point at Hyunjin.

"You told him!" He accuses, to which Changbin's eyes widen, and he raises his arms placatingly.

"I can explain!" he says, "I only told him because he wouldn't stop asking about it!"

Jisung swivels his head to look back at Hyunjin, who sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. Resigned, Jisung exhales. He can’t turn back time, and he doubts he can discern any coherent version of events when both men have already contradicted each other. 

"Well," he says, walking further into the house, "I finished reading it."

"Was it a good ending?" Changbin asks.

Now, Jisung had come here with the intention of ranting. He'd meant to get all the weight off his chest through half an hour of nonstop talking, but after being caught off-guard by Hyunjin, his motivation to do so is quickly slipping away.

"Yeah," he lies, "It's really satisfying. Where are you up to at the moment?"

"Well," Changbin snorts after some thought, "You're currently locked up on a boat."

"Ah, I see. Has my character found it yet?" Jisung asks, and Changbin's eyebrows raise, "Found what?"

"…Never mind. You'll see soon enough."

“Or… you could tell me.”

“That would completely ruin the surprise!”

"-So should I read it?" Hyunjin cuts in. He'd meandered into the kitchen for a moment but has returned, cold glass of water in hand.

"No," Jisung says at the same time that Changbin says "Yes."

Jisung fights the urge to whack him, but speaks to Hyunjin with a forcefully calm tone of voice, "It's just a silly light-hearted romance story that I stumbled upon by accident. It's really not worth it."

Changbin snorts again, "Jisung is lying. He found it on purpose and it's great. He's just embarrassed because it involves him and Minho getting each other off-"

Jisung whacks him, heat gathering in the tips of his ears. While he hasn't ever actively sought out smut involving him and Minho, the longer stories tend to have it built in, and this one was no exception. He'd scroll quickly through the scenes, unwilling to imagine them playing out, and had completely forgotten that Changbin would happen upon them too.

Hyunjin chuckles, taking a sip of his drink and playfully looking around as though considering his options. 

Finally, he grins, "Send me the link."

Jisung presses his palms into his eyes, groaning, "Fine, just don't tell anyone else."

Hyunjin nods, but Jisung isn’t finished.

“-And!” He says, directing his words towards Changbin, “Don’t promise me that, before immediately going and doing it!” 

A few days have passed since the SKZ Family trip ended, and Jisung is… on edge. Minho has been acting normal around him. Completely, totally normal, and yet something is slightly off. He isn't avoiding him, he isn't treating him any differently in a general sense, but some miniscule aspect of his personality around Jisung has shifted, and Jisung is feeling more unhinged by the minute, trying to articulate what that shift actually is.

After the night they spent together, Minho brightened up. He enthusiastically talked to him, stuck by his side, and let Jisung mess around with him whenever he wanted.

He also started speaking with Felix. A lot.

Jisung loves Felix – that's his bleached-blonde bestie, and he has no issue with Felix's sudden increased presence in Minho's life, it's just that… It's odd. When packing up on set, Jisung saw them in a corner, talking in hushed tones, and sending brief glances his way. They sat together on the way back to the dorms, and every day since, Minho has either been over at Felix and Seungmin's dorm, or with him at the company.

Jisung isn't sure what to make of it. It isn't like anything is wrong, and since he and Minho live together, it isn't as though Felix is taking up all of the older man's time, it's just… odd timing, considering the kind-of-kiss and all. An anxious, pedantic part of Jisung's mind tells him that Minho is replacing him. That clearly a line was breached in his relationship with Jisung, so he's dumping him on the side of the road and moving on with his life, even though literally nothing has changed between them. Jisung is just being irrational, and hanging onto small details that don't make any sense.

Tuesday evening, he and Jisung had been eating takeaway in their living room, and Jisung had spied the older man's bottle of green tea. It was mostly full, so Jisung snatched it up without asking, and took a few gulps. Minho watched as he did so, and as he placed the bottle back between them. Minho didn't touch it for the rest of the night. Jisung knows this for a fact, because he was actively paying attention. At one point, Minho even got up to get a glass of water, staunchly ignoring the drink that he'd mentioned being excited to buy when they were at the convenience store. It was odd. Especially for a man that uses sharing food from mouth to mouth as a threat.

Then, on Wednesday afternoon, in the practice room, Minho had been doing his thing – going around and slapping whatever ass he wanted, because he could. Nothing new. It's just that – and Jisung isn’t sure if he should be proud or humiliated for noticing this – Minho didn’t… get to him. Skipped over him. Forgot about him. Which is something that he should logically be happy about, but he was wearing the grey sweatpants that Minho always slaps his ass in, so the lack of such was… Disappointing? Unnerving? The more Jisung thinks about it, the less sane he feels.

The point is, Minho has changed ever so slightly, and it's driving him up the wall. Hopefully it goes away soon, because he may end up genuinely tweaking out.

Over the years, Jisung has found that his dreams range vastly, from wisps of colour forgotten within seconds of waking, to vibrant, lifelike experiences that have him questioning whether he's accidentally blipped into another dimension for a few hours. He never knows what he's in for, though he finds that after concerts and draining experiences, he's less likely to be whisked away to another world.

This dream that he's in currently feels almost true to life.

He's lying down on something hard, although his vision is obscured by fabric covering his eyes. From beside him comes the sound of water rushing, and the heavy heat of afternoon sun confirms his suspicions – he's back at the creek, wearing the Leebit sleeping mask, having just won the Stray Kids treasure hunt.

It's only a matter of time before footsteps echo from a distance, gradually getting closer. Rather than panicking, this time Jisung lets Minho approach him without a word of acknowledgement. The other man comes to stand beside him, and a few beats of silence pass before he speaks.

"Can you see through that?"

"No," Jisung responds honestly, to which Minho hums.

"Then how did you know it was me?"

"I didn't," Jisung lies, "so I'm glad you're not a stranger here to kill me."

"Who says I won't kill you?" Minho jokes, and Jisung can hear the plants around him shift as he sits down, knee pressed against his torso.

"How many ribbons do you have?" Jisung asks despite knowing the answer, but this time Minho doesn't pause to count.

"I already finished, so none," he says instead, and Jisung's chest tightens at the change in events. The implications start to sink in as well, but he asks directly just to make sure.

"Where's your cameraman?"

"Back at the tents," Minho confirms, and before Jisung can stop himself, he's pulled the sleeping mask from his eyes, letting it sit against his forehead.

He squints as his eyes painfully adjust to the light, but when Minho's form comes into view, he forgets the sting entirely.

In the afternoon light, Minho's skin radiantly glows, complementing his slightly wavy dark hair. He isn't wearing a wig, and his SKZ Family makeup is mostly gone, but there's a natural beauty about him that swamps anything makeup could ever achieve. Minho's eyes are dark and catlike as he stares down at Jisung, and when their gazes meet for a split second, a spike of electricity runs down Jisung's spine.

Minho's eyes dart to the sleeping mask.

"When you're wearing that, are your other senses heightened?" He asks, to which Jisung shrugs, and swiftly pulls it back down to obscure his vision again.

"Do something and I'll give you the verdict," he proposes, and hears Minho let out an amused huff.

He should have anticipated the hand that comes to rest on his jaw, but he doesn't. It shocks him just as much as it did the first time, his heartbeat stuttering in his chest. When Minho's thumb slides to rest on his bottom lip, a familiar flushed heat starts to gather on the back of Jisung's neck.

Last time, Jisung made the mistake of asking Minho to pretend to kiss him, but this time it seems that Minho made the decision on his own.

Against his skin, Minho's fingers are warm but tender, and Jisung swallows, trying to make his voice sound casual.

"My, uh, sense of touch is definitely, uh, heightened."

It takes a moment for Minho to respond, but when he does, his voice is strained and quiet, as though talking to himself.

"Is it?"

His thumb gently drags over Jisung's lip, before applying light downwards pressure. Once again, Jisung pliantly relaxes his jaw, letting his mouth fall open a little, and Minho inhales sharply.

Instead of moving his face immediately closer like last time, however, Minho presses his thumb forwards, tantalisingly poised between his lips, and butterflies fill Jisung's stomach at the suggestive action. The touch draws away without warning, an empty coolness taking its place, and Jisung swallows back a noise of disappointment.

He jolts when Minho's touch reappears, this time at the junction between his neck and chest. It lightly grazes his skin and Jisung shivers, strength beginning to seep away from his limbs. Suddenly and then all at once, he realises just how exposed he is, and embarrassment blossoms in his chest. He exhales shakily, about to break the tension between them with a tentative 'Hyung?' but Minho lets his fingernails lightly scratch Jisung's skin, and the reaction is immediate – a violent shudder that pulls the air from his lungs.

Minho lets out a humoured breath, "You weren't lying."

Then, without warning, he begins unbuttoning Jisung's shirt, which Jisung vaguely registers as some sort of dream fuckery, because he wasn't wearing a button up last time. That being said, his mind is far more preoccupied with Minho's movements, and the sensation of the afternoon sun directly hitting the skin of his chest. He's sweating, and a wanton haze has begun to settle in his mind. This has already gone too far, and he should be pulling away, telling Minho to stop, but he finds himself arching into the feeling of the other man's hands brushing against his skin while he works.

"Look at you," Minho says quietly, "so eager."

A pathetic sound almost, almost escapes Jisung's lips, but it's forgotten quickly as Minho finishes unbuttoning, sliding the fabric to the sides, exposing his chest and stomach. This is just a dream , he reminds himself, but when Minho moves suddenly, hoisting a leg over to straddle him and bringing their faces close together, it feels so , so real.

Minho's nose grazes against his own, and Jisung's pulse jackrabbits, body immobilised with anticipation. The other man's breath fans over his skin, before he presses forwards, slotting their lips together.

Instinctively grabbing the older man's shoulders, Jisung's head spins, but he doesn't push him away. Instead, the sensation of Minho's soft lips against his own satiates a sudden, primal craving in his chest, and he finds himself responding in turn – tilting his face up to meet Minho's lips in the middle, letting his mouth fall open when Minho lightly bites his plush bottom lip.

It's overwhelming, with every sensation heightened, and he gasps as one of Minho's hands moves to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly.

"Hm?" Minho says between kisses, amusement evident in his tone, "What, do you like this?"

He tugs again, harsher, and Jisung's jaw slackens, arousal pooling in his lower body. He knows he shouldn't be doing this – shouldn't be giving in to the temptation, but sweat pricks on his neck and it's as though his world has narrowed to become the man above him. Minho's other hand digs into the skin of his stomach, and the touch, combined with the slick sensation of their mouths moving together, and the addictive pull of Minho's hand in his hair has Jisung arching up into the weight of Minho's-

"AY DOMINO! TUG CHIMYEON MUNEOJYEO-"

Jisung's alarm wakes him up.

Groaning, he reaches over to turn off the nagging, irritating sound, and he realises belatedly that he's 1. Breathing heavily, 2. Covered in sweat, and 3. …Well, you can probably guess. He lets out a noise of frustration, and almost can't believe what he just dreamt. Sure, the partial kind-of-not-really kiss with Minho over the weekend caught him off guard, but why has his brain only just now decided to remind him of it?! With such an intensely erotic spin as well?! He's straight. He always has been, and has never had cause to question it. Unfortunately, his brain apparently didn't get the memo, because it even tried to graphically insinuate that he would ever,,, could ever,,, with Minho! Who doesn't even like him! This is so much worse than over the weekend, when he’d briefly imagined Minho and Seungmin doing such things. That, at least, was fueled by SKZ Family and Minho's getup, but what's the excuse this time? He wasn't reading fanfiction, and dream Minho was just real Minho, so it really was just a dream that took a real, innocent situation and twisted it into something dirty.

The water of Jisung's shower is ice cold as he astutely refuses to do anything about his… predicament. Instead, he vents his frustration by scrubbing shampoo into his hair especially roughly, tearing out a few strands in the process.

Jisung has always been one to experience big emotions. When something is happy, he's overjoyed, when something is sad, he'll go through a box of tissues, and when something is frustrating, he'll feel anger vibrate in his body from head to toe. When he was younger, he found it difficult to regulate his emotions, and lashed out a lot when things pushed him into a realm of discomfort or irritation. Now, as an adult, he's a lot better at self-management, and knows healthy coping mechanisms to help him get through idol life as comfortably as possible.

That being said, he's not a perfect person, and sometimes things get to him in a way that can't be dealt with through breathing exercises. This is one of such times, and his scalp is, unfortunately, paying the price.

Perhaps it's because the reality of everything he's been doing is finally setting in. He's been reading fanfiction about him and his group member, his platonic friend , falling in love. That's fucking weird. Not only is it weird, it's also perverted and sick and he can't believe it's taken him so long to figure that out. How has he, for so many weeks, been able to look Minho in the eye? And now Changbin and Hyunjin are in on it too. Fucking great.

He's a straight man that has pornographic dreams about his friend because their lips accidentally brushed lightly together. Fucking pathetic.

After drying himself off, Jisung picks up his phone, and notices that Hyunjin had messaged him around 7am, about the fanfiction. Closing his eyes, he wills himself to be normal. He can approach this conversation just like every other conversation in his life.

Hwang Hyunjin

6:52am

I finished reading that fanfiction

The ending was so good

9:15am

Wtf how did you finish it so quickly

Also what do you mean good?????

I cried until I couldn't cry anymore

9:21am

I'm thoroughly sleep deprived

Also yeah that's why it's good

Everything came together perfectly to form one devastating moment

You're insane

My character literally died

Yeah

To protect Minho

A righteous cause

Anyway I'm inspired to draw the last scene now

I'm going to paint it

What part?

The kiss

....

It'll look cool I promise

Can I say no?

No

Well then just don't show anyone

Or else I will murder you

Noted

Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what he needed after his harsh awakening to reality; art of the exact thing he shouldn't be thinking about. He can't blame Hyunjin for it – the man is blessed with an artistic spirit that compels him to draw anything and everything that hits him in the heart, and as much as Jisung may have been disappointed by the fanfiction's ending, it was definitely impactful. He'll just have to deal with the knowledge that his shameful endeavours are being immortalised on a canvas, likely with oil paint.

Jisung has another issue. He probably should have anticipated it, since it makes perfect sense, but it catches him off guard when he's slumped back on one of the seats in the studio, phone in hand.

His social media.

It's been close to a month since he started reading fanfiction, and a few weeks since he started interacting with Han x Lee Know content, aka, he can't go online without coming face-to-face with thousands of posts insinuating that there's something more going on between him and his hyung. Similarly to the Hyunjin situation, he doesn't blame the fans who are posting such things, because they obviously weren't privy to his morning slap in the face. It just makes things frustrating, now that he's forced to reckon with his tainted algorithm.

Groaning, he turns off his phone, placing it face-down on the desk.

"What's up?" Chan asks from the other side of the room. For most of the day he's been fiddling with some of the technology, but Jisung hasn't cared to ask for specifics, mind naturally preoccupied.

"I need more coffee," He responds, and even though it's an improvised thought, he finds that it rings true regardless. Standing up and stretching, he gathers up his items, shoving them crudely into the pockets of his jumper and pants.

"Want anything?" He asks, but Chan declines, complete focus trained on the wires in his hands. Thus, Jisung makes his way to a nearby coffee shop to get his third caffeine hit of the day. It's only after re-entering the company, iced americano in hand, that he notices Minho in the distance, walking in the direction of the elevators. He's with someone, but they turn a corner too quickly for Jisung to discern who.

Now, if Jisung had been in a normal mood, or if Minho had been treating him normally over the past few days, Jisung would likely not be doing what he's doing now. But life hasn't been normal, so Jisung's footsteps are light as he hurries down the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of who Minho is with, without being seen.

Ducking his head around the last corner before the elevators, Jisung sees them, standing alone and waiting.

Really, it's not a surprise that Minho is with Felix, but it's precisely the fact that he's with Felix that makes him want to tear his hair out. Why Felix again? It isn't on par with watching Minho and Seungmin play into fanservice, but he can feel the twist in his gut developing in a similar direction.

"- I can get you his number, if you want," Jisung overhears Felix saying.

"What does he look like?" Minho asks.

"He's close to your type," Felix slowly responds, "but I'm not sure if this is the right way to-"

The elevator dings, and Jisung pulls himself back around the corner, chest tight and breath caught in his throat. Felix is introducing Minho to someone?

No, not just someone- a man that is close to his ideal type.

Jisung's head spins, and it takes all of his effort to walk with a socially acceptable gait back in the direction of the studios.

He shouldn't be impacted by something as simple as this. Sure, Minho's going out and expanding his circle of people, looking for people to date or hookup with or whatever, but that's normal. He's an adult man. He's allowed to do that. Why Jisung feels like crying is beyond him.

He's just not pathetic like you, Jisung's brain supplies unhelpfully. He doesn't have fucked up dreams like yours because he actually gets laid.

Against all odds, Jisung isn't a virgin. At the same time, he isn't exactly experienced. He had a girlfriend when he lived in Malaysia, but they were both children at the time so it never went anywhere. Then, when he was a trainee a girl asked him out, and who was he to say no? She was pretty, and they had sex a few times, but she broke up with him over something that he's completely forgotten, and he hasn't seen her since. And… that's it. People have offered to get him laid a few times, but he's far too socially awkward to have sex with a woman he's only just met, and having only really experienced awkward teenage sex, he doesn't trust himself to have adult sex without panicking and crying midway through.

Minho, obviously, is more mature and experienced than him in just about every capacity. Normally this doesn't bother him, because at the same time, Minho is the least mature person he knows, and 99% of his life revolves around cats, anime, and obscure Japanese pudding brands. Now, Jisung is struck with just how much more of a life his hyung has lived. Sure, he's two years older than Jisung, but even when he was 19 and they were preparing to become Stray Kids, he'd had experience in areas that Jisung is still yet to. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that pairs horribly with the discomfort in his gut.

When Jisung slinks back into the studio, he's fairly certain that Chan notices something is off, but neither of them bring it up.

When Hyunjin sends Jisung a progress update of his painting, Jisung can almost forget that he's supposed to be abstaining from Lee Know x Han content. That morning, he'd told himself that the only way to get the idea out of his head was to avoid it at all costs, but gosh, Hyunjin is talented.

It's still in sketch form, but Hyunjin has chosen a light blue wash for the underpainting that already ties the piece together. He and Minho are posed in a tight embrace, faces obscured but still discernibly kissing. Hyunjin's abstract style shines through, with broad lines indicating that, once colour has been added, dark streaks will swirl in the background, while a halo of light sits around the figures to create a clear focal point.

Over messenger, Hyunjin has been telling Jisung about how frustrated Changbin is with the pace at which he read the fanfiction. He has, apparently, been holding spoilers over Changbin's head to get him to do what he wants, which Jisung regrets not thinking of himself.

As much as thinking about the fanfiction is driving nails into his guilt, it serves as a decent distraction to the fact that it's past midnight and Minho hasn't returned to their dorm. He'd messaged Jisung a few hours prior, stating that he'd be out late, and Jisung had responded with a thumbs up despite the not-very-thumbs-up emotion the message had evoked from within him.

Thanks to the conversation that he'd overheard, Jisung's mind has been spiralling horribly ever since. A fun game of tug-of-war between the half of his brain that wants to focus on the fact that Minho is probably sleeping with someone at that very moment, and the half of his brain that thinks it's fucked up that he cares about Minho's hook-ups to begin with. Jisung is Minho's friend, his straight friend, who has absolutely nothing to do with his intimate life. At the same time, Jisung has now read about enough gay sex to have a decent idea of what Minho's intimate life probably looks like, and the image in his head just makes things worse.

He needs to take a step away from it all, which Hyunjin's gay artwork of him and Minho kissing manages to successfully do, at least for a moment.

Jisung definitely doesn't stay awake waiting for Minho to get home. He doesn't. He just uses the early morning hours to write lyrics for a song that he conveniently thought of after Minho's message. Typically, when Jisung writes romantic songs, he draws inspiration from dramas and anime that he likes, because he can see the world through the character's eyes, rather than attempting to draw from his own mediocre life experiences. This time, his pen hits paper and gains a mind of its own, telling the story of a love filled with nothing but regret.

Really, the lyrics are quite depressing.

Hours tick by slowly, and Jisung's mind begins to wander into brief naps that snap away as soon as his head hits the desk. It's only at precisely 5:02am, when the front door clicks open, that Jisung is brought back to full alertness. Through the crack in his bedroom door, Jisung watches as Minho slowly trudges into the dorm, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. When he breathes out, he hunches over, before slowly lowering himself to sit on the ground. He puts his head in his hands.

Jisung's feet carry him out of his room before he can stop them.

Minho startles at his presence, eyes wide and lips slightly parting as he looks up at the younger man. His hair is dishevelled, and Jisung vaguely remembers reading a fanfic reminiscent of this situation. Any similarities end there, though, because as Jisung scans the rest of Minho's appearance, he notices something that causes him to do a double take. A double take that Minho clearly pays attention to, because he quickly covers his neck with his hand, head hanging low.

Now, as was previously explained, Jisung tends to feel big emotions. Most of the time he can manage them, but recently his limits have been pushed. Currently, it's five am, he's gotten next to no sleep, and a significant portion of his night was spent unwillingly imagining Minho getting laid. 

So, when he registers that Minho has the vague imprint of a fucking bite mark on his neck, a few things happen at once. His heart rate lurches into a dizzying tempo, his muscles painfully tighten, and something that can only be described as a fire ignites in his chest, clouding his thoughts and making it difficult to breathe.

"That consensual?" He chokes out, and Minho pauses, before nodding.

"Don't lie."

Minho's jaw clenches, brows furrowing slightly as he meets Jisung's gaze.

"I'm not. I know it's not pretty, but it wasn't part of a bad experience, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then why are you on the floor right now?"

Jisung knows that his words are harsh, and he knows that he’ll regret them later, but he’s caught up in a state of mind that he’s wholly unfamiliar with how to handle.

"Because-" Minho hesitates, closing his eyes briefly to collect himself, "Because of other things, Jisung-ah. I wanted to distract myself."

Jisung swallows, and while some of the tension does leave his limbs, it's replaced with that ugly twisting sensation in his gut, and he grits his teeth in an attempt to restrain it. Unfortunately, the fact that Minho is sitting right there, looking like that, puts Jisung in a freakish place emotionally, as hidden behind everything else is the realisation that Minho did, in fact, have sex. And that this is what he looks like after having sex, which plays right into his self-disgust from the previous morning, because he shouldn't care about that!

"I'm going to the studio," he blurts, and much like the previous day, finds that the words ring true despite the lack of thought behind them.

He needs to go to the studio, and he needs to keep writing, right fucking now, because writing is an outlet, and god does he need to vent his feelings in a manner that doesn't involve stripping his hair from his scalp.

He doesn't register putting his shoes on, grabbing his bag, or the trip to the company. He just throws the studio door open and rips out his notebook, hands shaking as he puts pencil to paper and lets his ideas flow.

It's largely incoherent, none of it rhymes, and none of it can be used for actual song production, but through his iron grip and focused mind, he manages to gradually calm himself down.

He doesn't register Chan standing behind him until a gentle hand lands on his shoulder.

Jisung jolts a little, and has half a mind to hide the paper strewn before him, but can recognise that it's probably too late. He has no idea how long the other man has been in the room with him, and from Chan's expression, probably quite a while.

Chan pulls out a chair to sit beside him, angled so that they're facing one another. Jisung hates the look of concern on his features – how genuine it is. More specifically, he hates how he's the cause for it.

Chan clears his throat, and when he speaks, his tone is surprisingly casual.

"So, what's been going on between you and Minho?"

Jisung's gut sinks, expression falling.

"What?" He tries to lie, "Nothing has been going on between us. We're fine."

Chan raises an eyebrow and reaches out to pluck a sheet of paper from the mess on the desk. He holds it up, showcasing the five different variations of Minho's name scribbled roughly to fill the upper half of the page.

"… Ah."

As it turns out, explaining the situation to Chan isn't as difficult as he'd imagined it to be. He skips over plenty of details, but gets across the general gist that Minho had been acting off with him, so he started to get a bit emotionally pent up, which then culminated in the argument (?) that they just had.

Chan listens attentively and nods along, and when Jisung gets around to mentioning the bite mark on Minho's neck, a look of alarm comes over his expression.

The thing is, Jisung trusts what Minho said. As much as he may have initially been caught off guard, he can't bring himself to believe that Felix would ever give Minho the number of a man that would hurt him. Obviously, Jisung doesn't know for sure if the conversation he overheard was to do with this, but for his own sanity he'd like to believe so.

Jisung reassures Chan that it's probably fine, and although apprehensive, brings up what he overheard to quench the older man's fears.

Chan slowly nods, brows furrowing, as though considering something.

"So that's why you were feeling down yesterday? That conversation?"

Jisung nods, but a pit forms in his stomach. Usually he's good at reading people, but Chan seems to be connecting dots that Jisung hadn't meant for him to.

"Jisung-ah," Chan says, tone soft, as though he thinks that Jisung is too fragile to handle his next question, "Something else is going on, isn't it?"

Jisung's body grows cold, tongue heavy in his mouth.

"No," he says, but it's a blatant lie.

"This stuff with Minho," Chan continues, "isn't just about him acting different?"

The hair on Jisung's body stands up, and his heartbeat feels as though it's trying to break free from his chest.

He can't do this.

He can’t talk about it.

Not now, not ever.

Because talking about it makes it real.

He quickly stands up, knocking some of the pages off the desk in the process. Legs weak, he tries to get to the studio's door, but Chan's firm grip holds him back, tugging him into the middle of the room. Jisung tries to struggle, tries to break himself free, but he's dragged into an unyielding hug, Chan's arms wrapping securely around his torso. As much as Jisung's fight-or-flight response wants him to leave as soon as possible, the warmth of the embrace melts away the strength in his limbs, until he finds himself slumping into the other man, breathing in time with the steady rising and falling of his chest.

"Minho probably hates me now," Jisung eventually says, but Chan shakes his head.

"If anything, he probably thinks that you hate him," he says, which is surprisingly effective in bringing Jisung back to reality. Over the weekend, he discovered just how horrible it is to exist without Minho in his life, and things are moving dangerously close to that territory again.

"I suppose I did just leave him there…" Jisung says, guilt twisting in his gut.

"You did," Chan says, "so now you're going to…?"

"Talk to him," Jisung fills in the blank, slowly detaching himself and sniffing. He isn't sure when tears started to escape his eyes, but they're already dry, so he pays it no mind.

"Thanks," he says quietly as he gathers up his things and shoves the paper into the studio's bin.

Chan gives him a warm smile, "Any time. Go and get some rest- Binnie and I can survive on our own today."

Despite Jisung's determination to correct things with his hyung as soon as humanly possible, he's not at the dorm when he returns, and Jisung is borderline sleepwalking by the time he stumbles into his room. He falls headfirst into a dreamless slumber, and doesn't run into Minho for the rest of the day.

When the whole group gathers for their 10am dance practice, Jisung practically vibrates out of his skin. It's both the perfect and least desirable situation to be in, because Minho is there, but they haven't had a chance to talk since the mess that was Jisung's internal breakdown over 24 hours prior.

Minho is dressed in a casual getup, with loose black pants and an oversized white shirt that has panels from One Piece on the back. His hair falls flat, covering his eyes, and since he's barefaced, his skin has a distinctive pink flush to it, which will only get deeper the more they dance.

When he notices that Jisung has arrived, he perks up a bit, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, Han-ah! You're here!" he calls, and Jisung freezes, as that was the last thing he'd expected to happen. He'd predicted that at the very least Minho would talk to him less, but apparently not? Jisung gathers himself.

"Hi, hyung!" He calls back, matching the older man's energy. Maybe to Minho, yesterday hadn't been that big of a deal?

As the group huddle in to watch the choreographer demonstrate a move, Jisung finds himself standing next to Minho, whose hand is on his waist before they even have a chance to acknowledge one another's existence again. Jisung leans slightly into the grounding touch, but Minho suddenly draws back his hand as though it's been burnt, resting it on Jisung's shoulder instead.

Oh.

Things still aren't normal between them, then.

He tries to ignore how much his heart aches at the realisation.

Minho doesn't touch Jisung outside of necessity for the rest of the dance practice, which really wouldn't be an issue if he didn’t happen to be excessively touchy with the other members at the same time. He drapes himself over Felix's shoulders, carries Jeongin around, and slaps Hyunjin's ass too many times to count. Not that Jisung was trying to count.

On his way to the company, Jisung had vowed to get his emotions under control. He'd reflected on everything that went down the day prior, and recognised that it was the result of many suppressed feelings building up and spilling out in the worst way possible. Since he's a mature adult man, he can use this as a learning experience and move forward as rationally as possible, which means tackling his problems head on.

The first step in this is to detach himself from Lee Know x Han content online, a process which is already well underway. While eating breakfast that morning, he'd gone through his social media and blocked as many relevant tags as he could think of.

The next step is to identify and tackle whatever has been throwing him off about his relationship with Minho. Right now, that seems quite obvious: Minho is being openly physically affectionate with everyone but him. Unfortunately, this is a difficult issue to deal with as things aren't as simple as they used to be.

If, a few months prior, Jisung had gone to dance practice one day and noticed Minho avoiding 99% of all skinship with him, he'd confront him directly. He'd corner him after practice and ask, "What's going on, hyung? Did I do something wrong to make you act this way?", and things would be sorted out quickly and cleanly.

Currently, the question would be somewhat closer to this:

"What's going on, hyung? After we accidentally kind of kissed on the weekend I noticed that you stopped doing random things with me that you'd normally be fine with. Also do you hate me? Because I was kind of an intrusive asshole to you yesterday when you were clearly not happy about something but I was so caught up in my own emotions that I brushed you aside. I was fully prepared to grovel in front of you today to beg for forgiveness but you've been treating me perfectly normally aside from the whole skinship thing, so I really don't know where we stand and I'm too afraid to ask. Do you just not want to touch me anymore? I know that I can be really overbearing when it comes to skinship but we've been successfully cuddling one another for over half a decade now so it's been very jarring to suddenly have none of it. Oh, and are you replacing me with Felix?"

For the duration of the dance practice, Jisung keeps his mouth shut about it, and instead pours all of his energy into making his moves as clean and precise as possible. On their breaks, he plasters a wide smile on his face and jokes around, staunchly hiding the fact that with every passing minute he feels less and less okay.

Genuinely, he's not doing good.

Every time Minho so much as corrects another member's moves, Jisung has an incredibly loud voice in the back of his mind saying THAT SHOULD BE ME . And then he has to mentally slap himself in the face, because Minho is literally just telling them to make a right angle with their arms, not caressing their biceps like Jisung's brain wants him to think.

Suffice to say, by the end of practice, Jisung's skin is itching with the desire to tackle Minho to attach himself to Minho's arm and not let go for an indeterminate amount of time. The group members filter out gradually, but it seems as though Minho is hanging back, because he doesn't pack up his things. Jisung plonks himself onto the couch, unsure of what to do, but fully aware that once it's just the two of them left, he has to do something.

Hyunjin is the last to filter out, standing in the doorway and pointing a dramatic arm out towards Jisung.

"It's almost done!" He says, and Minho glances over from his place near the mirrors.

"What is?" He asks, and Jisung sends Hyunjin the most betrayed-exasperated expression he can conjure.

Hyunjin winks, throwing Jisung brief finger guns before slipping out, and Jisung groans, rolling off the couch to lie on his back on the floor. This is just the car situation again, but he already promised Minho that he wouldn't keep secrets, so now he's required to be at least mildly honest.

Minho walks over to crouch down next to Jisung, and from the side of his vision, Jisung sees him reach out and then retract his arm. It makes Jisung want to yell 'JUST DO IT ALREADY!', but he restrains himself.

Rather than inquiring about Hyunjin's vague proclamation, he asks a different question.

"Why aren't you heading back?"

"To watch you dance," Jisung responds, which is partially true.

Minho doesn't say anything for a moment, before humming in understanding and standing back up.

"What should I dance to?" He asks, and Jisung furrows his brows.

"Aren't you getting ahead for practice tomorrow?"

"Not when I have an audience," Minho explains, voice adorned with a teasing lilt.

"Hmm, then what's the most difficult?" Jisung jokes, and Minho shrugs, "You tell me."

Jisung presses his hands to his cheeks, scrunching up his face in thought.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm-" he cuts himself off, because Minho's leant down to ruffle his hair and holy shit Minho is touching him!

Jisung's hand darts out to grab Minho's wrist, white knuckled. Minho lets out a surprised sound, that only gets louder when Jisung drags him forward. His body lands heavily on top of Jisung's own, knocking the air out his chest, but a giddy smile pulls on Jisung's lips. Before Minho can get back up, Jisung wraps his arms around him, locking him down.

Minho lets out a humoured huff but complies. His head hangs over Jisung's shoulder, so if Jisung were to tilt his face to the side, they'd be looking directly into each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," Jisung finds himself saying, and can feel Minho's muscles tense momentarily.

"Don't be," he says softly, "you just caught me at a bad time."

"I know that," Jisung responds, "but I didn't handle it well. Is that why you haven't touched me?"

Jisung snaps his mouth shut as soon as he registers the words that left his mouth. He hadn't meant to ask that.

Minho shifts slightly, turning his head to look at Jisung, whose eyes are locked onto one specific roof beam. It runs perpendicular to the other beams, so it stands out.

"I'm touching you right now, though?" Minho says, and Jisung decides that while the topic is in the air, he may as well double down.

"You've been avoiding skinship with me all day," he says, to which Minho lets out a resigned breath.

"Can't you get skinship from the other members?" He asks, and a sudden, lurching irritation fills Jisung's chest. He turns his head to meet Minho's eyes and holy shit their faces are so close, but that's not the point right now.

"Really, hyung?" he asks, and Minho's eyes widen at his tone of voice, "It's different when it's you. You know that."

Minho's mouth falls open, "I…"

He doesn't finish his thought, mouth gaping open like a fish.

"Just," Jisung says, swallowing, "be honest with me. If you don't want skinship, that's fine, but tell me that. Don't just stop. I thought I made it pretty clear on the weekend that I'm a bit attached to you."

Minho presses his lips together, briefly closing his eyes.

"I do want skinship with you," he admits.

"Then what's the issue?" Jisung presses.

"I…"

A sort of sad guilt settles in Minho's eyes, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet.

"I can't tell you."

By now, Jisung's irritation has dissipated, and he feels somewhat apologetic for cornering the older man like this.

"-But," Minho continues, "I won't avoid it anymore, okay? I promise."

There are layers to this. So many layers, and Jisung doesn't know if he can even begin to pick them apart. On his side, and clearly on Minho's too. Jisung isn't sure when exactly things became so complicated between them, but it's as though an invisible wall separates them now, swallowing thousands of hidden thoughts and ideas.

For years, Jisung has prided himself in his ability to read the older man. People joke that only he can control Minho, that the two of them are destined to be together, and that they share one mind. Currently, that couldn't be further from the truth.

"Okay, hyung," Jisung breathes, tightening his hold on Minho's body, "I believe you."

Chapter Text

Hyunjin's painting is a fucking masterpiece.

Standing before it, two things catch Jisung's eye immediately: The size, and the colours. Since the brief update photo, Jisung hasn't been privy to more of the painting's progress, with Hyunjin insisting that it will look better in person. Jisung can't help but to agree.

There's no doubt that it's a big painting – far bigger than Jisung had anticipated it would be. In the photo, it had seemed similar in size to an A3 sheet of paper, but there hadn't been any real frame of reference for Jisung to use, so he supposes it makes sense that his guess was off. In actuality, the canvas, which stands in portrait configuration, is something close to a metre in height and is propped against a wall, with sheets and tarp protecting the carpet beneath it.

The colours that Hyunjin has used seem to leap off the canvas, vibrant and skillfully chosen to direct the viewer's eyes. In the foreground stands the silhouette of the two men, tightly embracing and illuminated from the back by a white light. Rich shadows are juxtaposed by a harsh rim light, and the colours used for their forms are sporadic, with more focus on tonal value than hue. Despite this, Jisung's hands are coated with intensely red blood, and it drips down Minho's neck from where Jisung cups his face. Behind the main figures swirls a dark background, littered with neon, glowing sparkles and streaks that indicate movement and chaos. Somehow, Hyunjin has managed to convey an effect similar to chromatic aberration – somewhat difficult on the eyes, but gorgeously blended with the surrounding landscape.

Jisung can almost forget that it's a painting of him and Minho kissing, but to do so fully would be to deny the beauty that is Hyunjin's depiction of Minho, which is something he won't stand for. Hyunjin has truly captured a likeness of them both, but, (and Jisung may be biased), Minho's brilliance shines through with breathtaking clarity.

Jisung realises belatedly that he hasn't spoken a word since the painting caught his eye, and that Hyunjin has been watching his expression with a proud smile on his lips.

"This is insane," Jisung breathes, "how many hours did you spend on it?"

Hyunjin shakes his head, "Too many. I wasn't counting. Changbin says I should hang it in the kitchen."

"If you do that, hyung could never come over," Jisung says.

He uses the tone that he would for a joke, but there's a level of painful seriousness to the sentiment. Minho can't find out about this. He'd be disgusted, surely. Thankfully, Hyunjin snorts, "Don't worry, I'll find a place to hide it when it's dry. I won't expose your little secret to him."

Jisung tries to ignore how his gut churns at that. Obviously to Hyunjin, the secret in question is that Jisung has been reading Lee Know x Han fanfiction. At one point, this is all that his secret was. Now, it's morphed into something dangerously personal.

Jisung huffs a small laugh, reaching out to grab Hyunjin's shoulder and shake him, "You'd better not."

In an ideal world, Han Jisung would consider himself a man of integrity. He'd say what he means and mean what he says, and face life with a mindset of certainty and clarity.

In reality, he's a hypocrite.

A disastrously self-aware, prone-to-panicking hypocrite who's thrown himself headfirst into a pit of quicksand. Caught in a destructive cycle of his own design, he's forced to suffer the consequences of his actions whether he likes it or not.

The cycle goes as such:

He's reconciled his relationship with Minho (yay!), which has led to increased skinship (woah!), and a fully comfortable platonic dynamic (phew!). Unfortunately, Jisung's emotional issues are still unresolved (…oh no!), and the increased skinship keeps sending his mind places it shouldn't go (uh oh!), so he's finding it exponentially more difficult to keep his thoughts and actions in check (shit!). But he'll die if things with Minho get worse again (see: the last week of his life), so he simply has to deal with it.

Additionally, fanfiction apparently has drug-adjacent qualities, because after a short few days of abstinence, he's started experiencing withdrawals. If he really wanted to, he could fall back onto anime fanfiction and call it a day. Anime fanfiction hasn't wronged him thus far, and would likely be far less destructive than anything to do with him and his hyung. The only thing is, Jisung is a weak, weak man, and knows fully well that if he so much as touches Postype, AO3, or Twitter, he'll end up reading something he shouldn't, like another 120k word multiverse AU. The guilt tears him up from the inside out, but his mind wanders to Lee Know x Han fanfiction every chance it gets.

It was Saturday afternoon when Jisung and Minho hugged on the practice room floor and everything returned to where it should be.

It's Monday afternoon when things begin to change yet again (for the better or worse? Jisung is yet to find out).

Parting ways in the morning, Minho had been his usual dismissive-but-not-actually-dismissive self. Jisung had waved goodbye, iced americano in hand, and Minho had nodded – no words leaving his mouth, but eyes conveying a general gist of 'see you later'.

Later is now, and Minho's eyes are no longer vaguely emotive, instead intensely sparkling, pointed and clearly up to no good. Jisung takes off his facemask, shoving it absentmindedly into his pocket.

"Can you at least let me in?" He asks, because Minho is filling up the doorframe, and Jisung's arms hurt from holding his bag for what feels like a year. Minho shuffles to the side and he slips past into the dorm, throwing his belongings onto the kitchen island and stretching with a wide yawn. He'd spent a majority of the day scrutinising half-finished projects and categorising them in order of most to least workable, so his brain is fried and incredibly tempted to have a nap.

"Jagi," Minho says, coming up behind him to put his hands against Jisung's shoulder blades, pushing him to start walking. Slightly stumbling, Jisung lets himself be led to the dining table, sitting down with a confused but cooperative furrow to his brows.

When Minho darts back into the kitchen, Jisung can see a small smile pull on his lips, and anticipation begins to build in his gut. Minho is clearly happy about something, which naturally makes Jisung happy too, but the glint of mischief in his expression leads Jisung to believe that he's walked into a trap.

"Close your eyes!" Minho calls, and Jisung scrunches his face up.

"Why?" he calls back, suspicious, but Minho hits him with a 'do you really want to challenge me right now?' eyebrow raise, so he begrudgingly complies. When Minho's footsteps approach him again Jisung bites his tongue, because he'd rather bleed to death than think about the last time he sightlessly interacted with the older man.

"Open up," Minho says.

"…" Jisung responds, mouth closed.

"Should I make you?" Minho threatens.

Jisung opens his mouth.

The fork hits his teeth first with a metallic clang and Jisung winces, but quickly overcomes it as the taste on his tongue sinks in. His eyes snap open, and he's met with Minho's satisfied smile, one of his hands holding a small plate with a slice of cheesecake on it.

The tiredness in Jisung's body is swept away as though it was never there, and his heart swells to fill his chest. Robbed of his voice yet filled with elation, he beams up at Minho with the brightest, biggest eyes he can conjure, and a smile pulls on his cheeks. Minho, ears slightly red, sets the plate and fork down on the table, pulling out a chair facing Jisung for himself.

"Hyung, this is amazing! Did you make it?" Jisung exclaims as soon as he can.

Minho slightly nods, "I had some spare time this morning."

He says it as if it's some simple thing. As if he hasn't just shaken Jisung's world, and shone down on him like sunlight through the clouds.

Minho clears his throat, and Jisung, fork already in hand, is promptly reminded of the mischievous glint he'd noticed earlier. Vague concern for his own health and safety flashes through his mind, but the next bite of cheesecake cures him of such worries. He'll sit here and eat it even if it kills him.

"Actually this morning," Minho starts, eyes clearly watching the fork stab into the dessert, "I met up with Chan as well."

Jisung nods, and Minho's eyes dart to his own.

"He wanted to talk to me about safe sexual practices."

Jisung chokes.

"Which I found odd," Minho continues, unphased, "considering it's something I've been doing for quite a few years now."

Jisung hits his chest in an attempt to clear his airway, eyes wide.

"But it turns out someone was concerned for me," Minho says, grinning.

It's clear who he's talking about, and a wave of embarrassment floods Jisung's body, tinting his skin red. When he's able to speak properly again, his words come out far too loud and defensive, cutting awkwardly through the air around them.

"That's not what happened! I… I was the one to reassure him that things were fine!"

Minho snorts, "That's what he said you'd say. Apparently, you were 'clearly upset' and 'worried for me', which I'll admit, surprised me a little. You left so quickly that morning that I assumed you were just frustrated that I was being uncooperative."

Jisung's mouth gapes open, and Minho's amused eyes stare straight through him.

Damn it, Chan! He thinks, beginning to stand up. Fully intending to escape the conversation, he reaches out for the plate of cheesecake, but Minho beats him to it, sliding it out of his reach. Jisung stretches his arm out anyway, but it's evident that he's played perfectly into Minho's trap. When he isn’t able to get it back, he lets out a dramatic sigh and slumps down into his seat again, pouting.

Minho looks positively elated, and continues speaking as though nothing happened.

"So, I just figured I'd bring this up to quench your fears."

The thing is, Jisung is well aware that it wasn't that bad. The mark on Minho's neck was faded the first time he saw it, and it was gone by the time they spoke again. On top of this, Jisung is well versed in vampire and werewolf romance, and can understand the objective appeal of leaving such a mark on another person. It's just that, for some reason, seeing it on Minho had played into his emotions in the exact wrong way, and his brain blew the whole thing out of proportion.

…And, for some reason, the mental image of some random guy biting Minho's neck does not sit well with Jisung. At all.

He rationalises it as a fair concern for his hyung's health and safety, which doesn't help right now, because he's supposed to be asserting that he doesn't care about it.

Minho stares at Jisung as though he's won some sort of game – backed Jisung into a corner where he can do nothing but admit to how a very normal, relatively tame mark on his skin made him pathetically cry into Chan's arms. A defensive urge spurs in Jisung's gut, as he feels the need to save at least some of his face.

"Well," he splutters, "Might I remind you that you were on the ground looking all sad when I saw it! What was I supposed to think?!"

"I told you that it was fine!" Minho refutes, still smiling, and Jisung's eyes widen. He can feel hundreds of words bubbling on his tongue, desperately trying to break free.

Fuck it, he started this conversation!

"Yeah, with no additional information!" Jisung exclaims, pointing a finger at the older man, "In fact, if I'm recalling correctly, you said that it was because of 'other things' that you wanted to 'distract yourself' from. What things?! Was it the thing you can't tell me about? Was it something completely different? I was concerned because I was completely in the dark! Not to mention you're always hanging around with Felix instead of with me and being all secretive with him – which is a double standard by the way, because I distinctly remember you saying that I shouldn't keep any secrets from you, but-"

"Wait!-" Minho cuts in, and Jisung pauses, breathing heavily. His head spins, and he frowns when he realises that, not only is Minho still smiling, but that his smile has gotten wider.

"Are you jealous?" Minho asks, and an unintelligent "huh?" falls from Jisung's lips. When Minho clarifies his point, his tone is bizarrely close to the tone he uses when he's proud of something.

"You just said that I've been hanging out with Felix instead of with you. That's something that a jealous person would say."

"Well, I-" Jisung stutters, because he hadn't consciously intended to bring Felix into this at all, "You've just been- you know, spending a lot of time with him. I'm not jealous , though I… I…"

He doesn't know what to say. He isn't jealous. Why would he be jealous?! But with the way that Minho is looking at him, he knows that there's nothing he can say to convince the other man differently.

"Aww, Jisung-ah, it's okay to be jealous," Minho coos – patronisingly, at that – and Jisung's face falls into a sort of exasperated, dumbfounded expression. His lips part, his brows raise, and vague huffs of air escape his chest – echoes of disbelief that can never truly form into words.

Before he can compose himself, Minho stands up, and slides the plate back within reach. Walking around to Jisung's seat, he speaks earnestly.

"I know that I haven't been fair to you, and I am sorry that I can't tell you more," he pats Jisung on the shoulder, but any sentimentality is removed from the situation as he slides a hand down to squeeze Jisung's peck. The touch is gone too quickly for him to have any real reaction, and Minho's grin returns in its infuriating glory.

"But if you find yourself getting jealous again, my door is always open."

Jisung hates how he can feel himself blush. Minho pats his shoulder once more before walking away to another area of the apartment, leaving Jisung behind and reeling from whatever the hell that conversation was. In some capacity, he's tempted to follow after the older man to try and set things straight, but the cheesecake is right there, and he really doesn't have the energy to articulate himself any further. 

Digging his fork into the now-slightly-warmer dessert, Jisung sighs, shaking his head.

When it comes to live streaming, Jisung is... 50/50. On one hand, he thoroughly enjoys being able to interact with fan comments, sitting around and relaxing and discussing whatever comes to mind. On the other hand, there is the ever-present understanding that every single thing he does is being recorded and broadcast live to thousands and thousands of people. If he slips up, the most the company can do is make the livestream playback unavailable, while it's almost guaranteed that the whole thing is being recorded separately anyway. Professionally recorded videos are much safer, because as much as Jisung may make a fool of himself, he knows that the company isn't going to compromise his idol image too much. People like Hyunjin, who have a filter and can keep their energy in check, are far more suited to the late-night livestream lifestyle, while Jisung considers it akin to being watched by a security camera.

With that being said, Jisung can find comfort whenever his bandmates are around, and live streaming is no exception to this.

It's Tuesday evening when the group huddle into one of JYP's lounge filming areas, falling back onto the couch as a few staff members shuffle in behind them. It isn't a notably professional setup- just a way for the group to interact with fans following the release of a few special release tracks. The room is cosily illuminated by lamps and multicolour string lights, and Jisung leans back into the plush throw pillows, sighing. 

The group is organised in a line, though it feels closer to a pile by the time they've all gotten settled. The order goes from left to right: Felix, Minho, Chan, Changbin, Jisung, Seungmin, Jeongin, and then Hyunjin. Jisung had originally wanted to slip into the spot next to Minho, but Felix had gotten to it first, which didn't make him feel jealous in any capacity at all. Minho had locked eyes with him, the beginnings of a smile on his lips, and Jisung was gone before he could subject himself to any more of that. 

While setting up the camera, the managers outline the plan for the hour or so that the livestream will be: Promoting the songs, reading and responding to comments, and playing a few games. Jisung isn't too worried about how things will play out, since everyone is here, including a few staff members to make sure the conversation doesn't stray into any dangerous zones.

Not to mention, the group members are all mature adults with an idol image to keep in check.

It's going to be fine.

Completely, totally fine.

Promoting the songs falls primarily into the hands of Jisung himself, Seungmin and Jeongin, as they describe the style of music that they've experimented with this time, and generally hype up the songs. Chan does a short section in English, before they listen to the songs themselves, singing along both loudly and energetically because the room (thankfully) has soundproofing. Jisung is fairly sure that's one of the criteria the staff have when choosing any given location to film the group in. If an area can't have yelling and screaming, it can't have SKZ (or at the very least, it can't have Changbin and Jisung).

Through the duration of the song promotion the chat has been filled with fire and heart emoticons, but as they move into the reading-and-responding section, it's flooded with thousands of comments in every language imaginable. Ignoring the standard 'COME TO [insert country]', 'SPEAK ENGLISH', and '[insert member] MARRY ME' comments, the group members shuffle through the chat on their phones, trying to find something good to work with.

"What games have you been playing recently?" Jeongin reads out, and a few of the members pipe in, detailing their recent ventures with League of Legends, Genshin Impact, and, in Hyunjin's case, a newly developed obsession with Stardew Valley. As much as Jisung loves the concept of gaming regularly, he doesn't have the motivation nor energy to do so. At least with dramas and anime, (and now fanfiction), there is usually a clear end in sight, and he himself doesn't have to put effort towards making that outcome a reality.

"Seungmin give us some spoilers," Changbin reads out before staring into the camera with a stern expression, "Not on my watch."

"You never know," Seungmin says, shrugging, "I wasn't planning on it, but maybe I will just to annoy Changbin hyung."

Changbin turns to face him, but before he can continue the conversation, Felix reads aloud another comment.

"Lee Know, how are Soonie, Doongi, and Dori?"

Minho looks up from his phone, running a hand through his hair, "They're doing well. My parents sent me photos of them this morning."

"When?" Jisung asks, affronted, because they're borderline his cats too, and to learn that he's been denied update photos is incredibly upsetting.

Minho casts Jisung a glance, "On my run."

"Oh," Jisung says, shrinking back into himself a little. Maybe he shouldn't have denied the offer to go with him… But in his defence, how was he supposed to know that such exercise would include three very cute cats?

"Hyunjin, have you done any painting lately?" Chan reads, changing the subject, and Jisung almost doesn't comprehend the question. Almost doesn't catch how dangerous a topic has been brought to attention, until the words 'painting' and 'Hyunjin' sink into his brain and his eyes widen with fear. Twisting his head to face the man in question, their eyes meet, and Jisung tries to telepathically deter him from saying anything incriminating.

"I have been painting, yes," Hyunjin says, turning back to the camera, and Jisung holds his breath.

"I recently finished one," he continues, "though it isn't good enough to show on camera. I still need to work on some of my skills."

Jisung lets out a relieved breath. He's in the clear. The chat starts to fill up with people assuring Hyunjin that his skills are already amazing (which is true), but it's better to have stays think that he's insecure than for them to know the reality.

The question time continues, and the group members shift between discussions of cooking, dorm dynamics, and anime. Everything sails smoothly, without any bumps or hitches, until Jeongin's voice cuts through the air, bringing the universe to a grinding halt.

"Hyung, is this the painting that you were talking about?"

He has Hyunjin's phone in his hands.

Shit

"This isn't bad at all! But… Oh?! Wait, IS THAT HA--mpff!" Hyunjin, eyes wide, clamps his hand over Jeongin's mouth, other arm flinging out in an attempt to grab his phone, but the damage is already done. The younger man leans back to hold it out of reach, expression equally as alarmed, and within moments the rest of the group has turned towards the commotion.

Lightning fast, Jisung is out of his seat and lunging for the device, but Seungmin gets his hands on it first, twisting out of the way and darting to the opposite end of the couch. Before Jisung can stop him, he's zooming into the photo, a flash of realisation overcoming his features.

"Woah! Ew!" He exclaims, brows furrowing as he looks up at Hyunjin, who tries to stand up but gets dragged back down again by Jeongin. At this, a chorus of shouts fills the air – echoes of "What is it?!" and "What did he paint?!"

Heart racing, Jisung tries to corner him, tries to reach out and grab his shoulders, but Felix springs up to intercept them, gripping Seungmin's wrist and staring at the screen himself.

Changbin's voice rings out above the rest, humour evident in his tone.

"Jisungie commissioned it!"

Another day, maybe, Jisung would play into the joke. Laugh about the painting. But right now he's genuinely fucking terrified, and needs this to stop as soon as possible. Right now, everything that he's hidden – the embarrassing pass-times, the shameful dreams, the disgusting, perverted thoughts – is on the verge of being exposed. His chest tightens, muscles tensing. The implications of Changbin's words pierce his mind, and it's all too much.

"I didn't!" He loudly snaps, and Changbin's eyes widen, taken aback.

Felix is laughing. His eyes are bright and a smile pulls on his lips, and he flings himself towards Minho to shake his shoulders, giggling into his ear. Jisung can't breathe. He's trying to, but Hyunjin is saying something and now Chan's looking at the phone and he's gasping and oh god they're all going to know. They're all going to know what Jisung thinks about and they're all going to hate him.

Changbin's hand grips Jisung's arm, yanking him back into his spot on the couch. His head swims, speckles of light filling his vision.

Minho's voice filters into his ears.

"Let me see," he says.

Within milliseconds Jisung's hands are over his ears, face pressed into Changbin's shoulder.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale…

His body must have kicked into autopilot, because the next thing Jisung knows, he's standing with the managers, sculling water from his drink bottle. The liquid cools his throat and he finds that he can breathe perfectly now, fully in tune with the world around him. The other members are still laughing and speaking with excited voices, and the managers aren't focused on him which hopefully means that it wasn't too obvious. That his descent into a panicked spiral came across less as the end of the world and more as embarrassment about the content of the painting.

They don't know that Jisung found and read the fanfiction that it's based on.

They don't know that it's based on a fanfiction at all.

All they probably think is that he's embarrassed because it's a painting of him and Minho kissing.

Jisung can work with that.

Fumbling to check his phone, Jisung scrolls through the livestream's comments, and feels a weight come off his shoulders as soon as he realises that the painting's content hasn't been leaked. The audience are desperate to know what it is, desperate to see the source of such varied reactions, but clearly the other members understand that exposing it isn't a great idea.

Taking in a deep breath, Jisung puts his drink bottle down. When he slinks back into his spot on the couch his legs are somewhat weak, and he can feel Changbin's eyes following him. A nudge to his side has him meeting the older man's gaze, a silent 'everything okay, man?' hanging in the air. Jisung nudges him back – an equally silent 'don't worry about it'. 

By this point, Hyunjin's phone has returned to him, and the group discussion has shifted back to the comment section. Naturally it's still flooded with questions, but the members do their best to pick out unique, non-painting-related ones. While Felix talks at length about his experience at a recent fashion event, Jisung's view of the chat is obscured by notifications.

Hwang Hyunjin: I am so fucking sorry

Hwang Hyunjin: I shouldn't have let him use my phone

Jisung worries his lip between his teeth, before shooting back a simple 'Don't stress – this reflects worse on you than on me'. From the end of the couch, Hyunjin huffs out a laugh. As much as Jisung is frustrated that the painting has been revealed, it isn't the end of the world. He needs to stay positive, and move forward before anyone else notices that something is up.

Changbin talks about working out, Jisung is forced to do aegyo for the camera, and Seungmin lists the songs he's recently learned on guitar. It's only when Felix reads out a comment asking 'What is your ideal type?' that the ground starts to slip away from Jisung's feet.

"I don't have an ideal type," Felix says to the camera, before turning to Minho, "What about you, hyung?"

Minho raises his eyebrows, but before he can deny the question, Seungmin's voice calls out.

"I know what his ideal type is!" there's a wicked smile on his lips, "Short, loud, big eyes, allrounder, annoying-"

"Hey!" Minho cuts in, and Seungmin bursts into laughter, pointing at Jisung's own wide-eyed expression.

He's blushing. Jisung can feel the heat creeping up his neck, and he desperately wants to push it back down. It's all a joke – Seungmin is obviously referencing the painting, because to him it's a light-hearted thing. It's funny that Hyunjin painted him and Minho kissing, so it's funny to imply that Minho likes him. It's not even a new joke – they've been saying things like this for years.

It's just that Jisung doesn't usually feel like dying when the topic is brought up.

"You didn't deny it!" Hyunjin yells at Minho, and Jisung wants to bury his head in the ground like an ostrich. He wants to dig a grave and throw himself into it, because the tingling sensation in his gut is quickly morphing back into something ugly and guilty and gross.

Chan jokes about his ideal type being Genshin Impact characters, and Changbin jokes about his ideal type being Hyunjin.

All of a sudden it's Jisung's turn, and everyone is looking at him. Thousands and thousands of people are looking at him, waiting for him to answer the question. They probably expect him to play into the joke – to say that Minho is his ideal type, but he can't, because it's too real, and it's also not real at all. He needs to clear the air. He needs to let everyone know that he doesn't like Minho. That he doesn't have feelings for his friend, regardless of what Hyunjin's painting may imply.

"A girl like Nana," he answers, tone as nonchalant as he can make it. It's a believable answer, and it's also a true answer. Nana has been Jisung's biggest fictional crush ever since he learned of her existence.

Thankfully, the discussion moves on swiftly, and Jisung has a chance to breathe. He can feel both Changbin and Minho's eyes on him, but he pointedly stares into the livestream's camera.

When the time for questions comes to an end, the staff bring forth a small table and a bag full of games for the group to choose from. Right away, Jisung can see Halli Galli and UNO, as well as a pot and hammer for Cham, Cham, Cham. The members all huddle around, sorting through the various items before Minho's elated voice calls out, "I've got it!"

What he has, happens to be a pack of original flavour Pepero.

Jeongin immediately groans, but Changbin voices his enthusiastic desire to play with Hyunjin, and soon everyone is back on the couch, debating which duo should go first.

"I'll play," Minho says easily, narrowed gaze and wide smile daring someone to join him. It's really no surprise, but Jisung can't help the butterflies that burst to life in his gut. Knowing Minho, the game could very well end with an actual kiss.

I've already kissed him, Jisung's brain supplies unhelpfully, and he has to forcefully remind himself that the SKZ Family accident doesn't count. Their lips just vaguely brushed, is all.

"I won't!" Hyunjin calls, and Jeongin is about to agree with him, until Hyunjin's clarification of "Unless it's with Innie!" stops him in his tracks.

"The comments say 2MIN," Chan inputs, and Seungmin makes a disgusted face. On the other hand, Minho lets out a humoured laugh, piercing the younger man with a teasing stare.

"Are you scared of me, Kim Seungmin?" he says, "Can’t handle a simple game?"

Seungmin judgmentally raises his eyebrows, and a beat of silence passes.

"You know what? Fine. I'll do it," he says, and gasps of shock fill the room – from both Stray Kids and the staff members. Jisung's jaw drops, a loud "Really?!" escaping his lips. This is evidently the reaction Seungmin was hoping for, because he calmly stands up and walks to the centre of the room, plucking a pepero stick from the box and putting it between his lips.

Jisung swallows and watches from the edge of his seat, because it's rare for them to do this at all, and, well…they're now very close to one another. Which is kind of the whole point, but Minho's hands are gripping Seungmin's collar, which to Jisung really seems like overkill. Surely they could play while maintaining a respectful distance of, like, a metre or so.

When Minho leans in to start biting the pepero stick, Jisung holds his breath. It's as though time slows down, every subtle movement amplified in his mind by a thousandfold. Jisung's eyes zero into the definition of Minho's jaw while he moves, and the half-lidded gaze he uses to stare down at the chocolate that he's biting into. If he didn't know better, Jisung would think that Minho is looking at Seungmin's lips. Distantly, he registers the other members yelling at the spectacle.

Around halfway through, Seungmin raises a confident hand to hold the back of Minho's neck, forcing him to keep going, and from where he's sitting, Jisung can see a vibrant red flush rapidly tint the older man's ears. Jisung's mind flashes back to the SKZ Family weekend, the scenario that had haunted him as he lay awake at night. An image of Minho laying back, flushed as Seungmin looms over him, hand caressing skin…

Jisung's gut lurches, twisting into a tight, painful knot. It's such a sudden sensation that he doesn't catch what Changbin leans in to say to him, instead overwhelmed by the desire to stand up and rip Seungmin's hands away. To drag Minho back onto the couch, and end the game all together.

Thankfully, they don't kiss.

Seungmin pulls back when there are a few centimetres left between them, the remaining section of the pepero caught swiftly in Minho's hand. The technical result is 2.7 centimetres, which is far too small for Jisung's liking, but at least it's more than nothing.

Seungmin is quick to sit back down on the couch, lips quirking up at the chaos he's managed to cultivate. Minho, on the other hand, doesn't follow suit. Instead, he reaches to pick up the Pepero packet, pulling another stick out and swivelling to face the rest of the group with a grin, "Who's next?"

"Me!"

The word leaves Jisung's lips before he can stop it, echoing into the room and causing momentary silence.

Shit shit shit-

Felix breaks the silence with a laugh, "Hyunjin, it's meant to be!"

Leaning back, Hyunjin shakes his head, but his expression is humoured. Before Jisung can register much else, Changbin's hands are pushing him into a standing position, and Jisung desperately hopes that the slight tremble in his legs isn't visible on camera.

What have I gotten myself into?

"Well come on, then," Minho says with the bold confidence of a man that isn't afraid to kiss other men. Despite this, his ears are even more red than they were before, which is the only solace Jisung finds as he stumbles to the centre of the room, meekly standing before him.

Their height difference isn't that big, but standing in such close proximity, it certainly feels like it is. Jisung stares up into Minho's eyes, and knows that his face is likely bright red. His chest feels like it's about to cave in, from how fast his heart is racing.

What did he do with Seungmin again?

Jisung reaches up, weakly gripping the collar of Minho's shirt, and Minho lets himself lean down a little.

"Look at you," He says quietly, glimmering eyes piercing into Jisung's own, "so eager."

(He's sweating, and a wanton haze has begun to settle in his mind. This has already gone too far, and he should be pulling away, telling Minho to stop, but he finds himself arching into the feeling of the other man's hands brushing against his skin while he works.)

Jisung dies.

His soul spontaneously combusts.

The universe explodes.

He desperately hopes that the pathetic sound bubbling up in his chest will stay exactly where it is, because if it doesn't he will actually have to cease existing. His entire body is on fire, and there's nothing he can do to restrain his thoughts.

But, wait.

This is a bit pitiful, isn't it?

He's the Han Jisung, one of Stray Kid's resident flirts. Even with his Minho-centric crisis, how could he let himself be outdone so easily? How could he stand here, in front of Changbin and Felix, and be this weak-minded? He's trembling and flushing like an inexperienced teenager! He needs to up his game, and prove to the world that he hasn't lost touch with his roots – guilt-fueled existential crisis be damned!

Steeling himself, Jisung flashes Minho a cocky smile.

"Well? What are you waiting for, hyung?"

Minho's eyes momentarily widen, but he quickly catches on to Jisung's plan, smirking as he realises that the younger man isn't just going to stand there and cower from a very easy, simple game. The pepero is still in Minho's hand, so Jisung exaggeratedly looks down at it and then back into Minho's eyes.

"Give it to me baby," he says in English, and hears Hyunjin scoff in the background.

Minho quirks an eyebrow, and Jisung barely manages to control his expression when Minho raises the pepero stick to his lips. He makes quick work of biting into one end, while Minho leans forward slowly to take the other between his teeth.

Instead of looking at the pepero stick like he did with Seungmin, Minho stares directly into Jisung's eyes as he moves. Jisung has half a mind to move with him, and play the game as it's technically supposed to be – aka, both people eat the pepero stick and try not to kiss in the middle, but letting Minho do all of the work is so much more alluring. Also, Jisung can't guarantee that he won't accidentally close the distance between them, especially with how Minho's hands have just moved to hold his waist with a dizzying tightness.

Really, it's as though he's trying to drive Jisung insane.

Jisung knows that after this, he's going to hate himself. He's going to wallow in self-disgust, regretting ever letting himself backtrack into a state that allows for Lee Know x Han adjacent situations. But now is now, and Jisung's desire to defeat Seungmin overrides all of his other settings.

It's over just as quickly as it started – nothing more than a hitched breath and the fleeting fear of Minho's lips meeting his own. But their lips never touch, and Minho once again catches the remaining section of the pepero stick, holding it up. It's tiny – 0.7 centimetres to be precise, and a definite win.

Jisung grins, reaching out to high-five the older man while ignoring how fast his heart is still beating. Changbin gives Jisung an indiscernible look as he sits back down – somewhat serious, yet masking any true thoughts or intentions. Jisung doesn't dwell on it.

The rest of the livestream goes by smoothly, without any more moments of panicked chaos wherein Jisung contemplates death. They don't do any more rounds of the Pepero game since no one is willing to try for first place, so they end up playing one long, dramatic game of UNO. It ends with three of the members lying stacked on the couch, while a heavy debate ensues among the rest, as Chan won, but Jeongin found three cards under his leg that he claims he genuinely didn't notice.

Jisung can't breathe from his spot at the bottom of the pile, but the couch cushions are comfortable, and he ends the livestream with an outstretched arm, waving at the camera while the other members yell vague 'goodbye's and 'see you next time's around him.

Scrolling through social media, Jisung is initially surprised that there isn't much discussion of the livestream. There are clips here and there, but with how big of a mess he'd made at points, there's a significant lack of internet traction.

That is, until Jisung remembers that he recently blocked many, many Stray Kids related tags, and manually goes back through to unblock all of them.

Like clockwork, his timeline floods with video after video, tweet after tweet, and post after post. Fanart, discussion, and energy are at an all-time high, with the most notable trending hashtag being #WhatDidHePaint.

Of course, it only makes sense. The fans have no context for the painting, and witnessed an incredibly wide range of responses in a very short span of time.

When Jisung first sees a clip of Minho's reaction, he turns his phone off before the video can play, heart pounding. He tells himself that he shouldn't look at it. That it doesn't matter what Minho's reaction is, because it's Hyunjin's painting, not his.

It takes one minute for him to give in.

All things considered, Minho's reaction is fairly tame. His eyes widen and he freezes, a startled "Oh!" leaving his lips before his face begins to rapidly flush. He fiddles with Hyunjin's phone for a moment before handing it back to Seungmin, gaze unfocused as he stares into the distance for some time.

Really, it could be worse. Minho could have thrown up, or started cussing Hyunjin out for painting him in such a position, but he didn't. Though, in some ways, the lack of such scares Jisung even more, because he has no way of knowing Minho's true opinion. In the time since the livestream ended Minho hasn't made any attempt to breach the subject, and Jisung is hardly leaping to do so himself, so there's the very real possibility that he may never learn. In some capacity, he doesn't want to.

…The other frustrating aspect of all of this is that Jisung 100% made a fool of himself, and now has to be confronted with slowed-down, HD clips of himself fumbling and stumbling his way through an hour-long livestream. If he comes across one more compilation video of his 'blushing moments', he swears he's going to throw something. It's bad enough reckoning with the knowledge that he's undone days of hard work and effort in the mentally-detach-from-Minho field, with the guilt of such adding weight to every step he takes around the dorm.

There's a short side-by-side clip of him and Minho that keeps reappearing – Minho's reaction to Jisung's ideal type. It isn't anything huge. It isn't really anything at all. He just closes his eyes and lets out a breath. Which doesn't mean anything, despite what some fans say. It doesn't indicate anything about how he perceives Jisung as a person, or his opinion on his ideal type. It means nothing.

Jisung wants to turn back time to when he wasn't so stressed out simply by existing in Minho's presence. Back to a time when being straight was an easy, normal part of life. 

Unfortunately, life works in unfair ways, and all that's left for him to do is wait for things to die down, and move on with his career as a producer, musician, and performer. 

Jisung has never been one to snoop. He either involves himself in situations or he doesn't, and lets other people sort out issues when said issues have no business being in his hands. If someone specifically asks him for help or advice he'll gladly listen, but won't seek to unravel secrets or conflicts that he's not supposed to know about.

Well, most of the time, that is. (The thing with Minho and Felix was different, okay?)

The morning after the livestream, Jisung makes his way down the corridor to 3Racha's studio. The sun has only just begun to illuminate the sky, but Jisung was feeling restless and his mind was plagued with song ideas, so he rolled himself out of bed, threw on some comfortable clothes, and made his way to the company.

There aren't many people about, and if he wasn't so familiar with the area, he'd likely consider the company's greyscale, repetitive hallways to be quite creepy, as they echo with an overarching sense of isolation. But it isn't this echoing that catches Jisung's attention, when he slows to stop outside the studio door, hand lightly grabbing onto the door handle. No, instead it's the sound of two voices coming from within, muffled but clearly in the midst of an argument.

Jisung pauses in his movements, stomach dropping.

He'd know these voices anywhere.

Chan and Changbin.

His two hyungs rarely ever fight, and when they do it's not like this. It's never like this.

Something must have happened.

When he can't make out any clear words, Jisung finds himself pressing his ear to the door, heartbeat pounding in his skull as he prays that neither of the men notice his presence.

It’s Changbin's voice that filters through first, loud and pleading but with an edge of exasperation.

"-Come on, hyung, you know it just as well as I do! Don't tell me you didn't see how he was yesterday!"

Chapter Text

"-Come on, hyung, you know it just as well as I do! Don't tell me you didn't see how he was yesterday!" Changbin’s voice exclaims.

"I know that he was flustered, but that doesn't mean we need to get involved!" Chan's voice responds, similarly apologetic yet firm in his beliefs. Jisung can imagine their expressions; furrowed brows, soft eyes, and a downwards pull on the corners of their lips.

"Flustered?! If I cared about him being flustered I'd have done this ages ago! He wasn't okay, hyung, he practically cried into my shoulder!" Changbin loudly returns.

Jisung isn't an idiot.

This is about him.

Chan, seemingly taken off guard, hesitates before responding. When he does, his voice lacks any bite.

"…Look, Binnie, I've already tried, and it didn't go well. We need to let him come to terms with it on his own. It's a big realisation to process."

Realisation?

"But that's just it – He hasn't realised anything! If we don't at least start the conversation, he never will!"

Jisung's head aches from trying to keep up. The door is cold against his ear, and his heart pulses in his throat. He's desperate to know what's going on, yet too much a coward to open the door and ask. What hasn't he realised? Changbin is right – he doesn't know.

"I understand that you're concerned, but he's clearly not ready yet. Let's just give him a bit more time, yeah? Then we can step in," Chan negotiates, but Changbin isn't willing to compromise.

"A bit more time? How much is a bit? A week? A month? It's been years, hyung! Life isn't going to stay still, and soon it will be too late."

A sudden silence falls over the studio, and Jisung can imagine Chan running a hand through his hair. Eventually he responds, voice quiet enough that Jisung has to strain to make out his words.

"When he comes in here later, you can try. Just… be careful with it, okay? Try not to spook him."

Changbin similarly quietens, tone softer yet still somewhat apologetic.

"Thanks, hyung. I know you're worried, but I'll do my best."

Now, if Jisung was being sensible, he'd take this as his cue to leave. To come back later, pretend to know nothing, and face the inevitable conversation that Changbin has laid out for him. Unfortunately, Jisung's mind is racing at a thousand kilometres per hour in an attempt to put the puzzle pieces together, such to the extent that he doesn't notice the sound of movement from within the room. He doesn't notice the sound of footsteps drawing closer, and only snaps out of his haze when the door opens into him, causing him to stumble back and fall onto the ground.

From the doorway, Chan stares at him, eyes wide. Jisung's jaw hangs wide open, unsure of how to even begin approaching this interaction, and for a moment it's as though they're cowboys in the wild west, locked in a tense standoff. That is, until Changbin's voice breaks through the warm desert wind, speaking to Jisung directly.

"There's no use in pretending you heard nothing. Come in, let's talk."

Chan closes his eyes, letting out a long, slow breath.

"You don't have to," he says, and Jisung can tell that he means it. He doesn't want Jisung to be put in an uncomfortable position, and is worried about his track record of panicking and fleeing.

"No, I will," Jisung says, and when Chan seems ready to protest, "It's okay, hyung. I can handle it."

Chan is sceptical – it's clear in the purse of his lips, and the crease between his brows – but he steps out into the hallway with a slight nod.

"Alright. If you need anything, I'll be getting breakfast nearby."

"Thanks, hyung," Jisung says earnestly as he leaves, before remembering that he is, in fact, still on the ground. Walking into the studio, Jisung is sure to lock the door behind him, because if this is going to be a difficult discussion, he'd rather not risk being interrupted.

Changbin slouches back on his spinning chair, and gestures for Jisung to take the one next to him. As Jisung falls back into the plush material, he's vividly reminded of when Chan witnessed his breakdown. An odd tension hangs in the air – a clash between two completely different perspectives. In some ways, Jisung is here less for a discussion, and more to be enlightened towards an apparent aspect of his own existence.

Changbin holds a pen in his hand, and taps it on the desk next to him as he speaks.

“How much did you hear?”

“Just the end,” Jisung says, to which Changbin nods.

"Have you started any more fanfiction recently?" he asks, and the question is left of field enough for Jisung’s mind to reel a little.

"No," he says honestly, and Changbin nods again, eyes darting around the studio.

"Hyunjin's painting is pretty cool though, isn't it?" He asks, and Jisung hums in agreement. How this is relevant, he doesn't know.

"It's a lot of effort for a fanart," he comments, to which Changbin huffs a small laugh.

"You make songs for the shows you like, don't you?" And Jisung can't argue with that.

"I finished reading it last night" Changbin says, "It's a sad ending, but overall a good story."

Jisung nods slowly, but there's an itch in his chest for the older man to just get to the point. He doesn't need this… conversation softening, or whatever it is. He's about to say as much, but Changbin beats him to it.

"I guess I'm just curious about why you read it in the first place," he says, and Jisung's stomach drops. He swallows thickly.

"I… just liked the sound of it, really. The synopsis."

"Nothing else?" Changbin asks, and when Jisung shakes his head, "Not even the fact that it features two men?"

Jisung tenses, gut twisting, and fingers gripping into the armrests of his seat.

"Why would that matter?" He asks, voice guarded.

Changbin tilts his head a little, "I mean, hasn't everything you've read recently been gay? I just assumed you seek it out on purpose."

"No," Jisung responds, harsher than he'd intended, but Changbin doesn't seem taken aback. Rather, he looks wholly unimpressed, even a little judgemental, so Jisung rushes to clarify himself, "I-I mean, I've been reading it, but, like, from an educational standpoint, you know? I don't swing that way, so it's a way to, you know, learn about… things I'm unfamiliar with."

"Really?" Changbin asks, eyebrow raising as he sits up in his seat, and Jisung nods energetically. Changbin stares at him for a moment, before sighing.

"Jisungie, I really don't know how else to put this, but you do, in fact, swing that way."

Jisung stills, mind lagging, "…What?"

"Jisungie, you're not straight."

Changbin's expression is completely serious, and it would be possible to hear a pin drop in the silence that falls between them. It stretches on and on, and when it becomes unbearable, Jisung breaks it with an awkward laugh.

"Yes, I am?"

Changbin shakes his head, and Jisung lets out a breath of disbelief. His lungs suddenly feel far too shallow, and his heartbeat sits uncomfortably in his chest.

"That's not something you get a say in," he says, and when it doesn't seem like enough, "I definitely don't like men, okay? I'm straight."

Changbin leans forward to rest his arms on his knees. When he speaks, his voice is calm, as though he's been working up to this. He probably has.

"Then why do you like Minho?"

Jisung hates how he flinches. Hates how his grip on the armrests becomes white-knuckled. Hates how the blood drains from his face, and the discomfort in his chest is overwhelmed by a sickening lurch.

"What are you talking about?" He tries to ask normally, but the words come out strained.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Changbin says, maintaining his collected composure – as though he'd been expecting this from Jisung. As though he'd known that Jisung would be a pathetic, uncomposed mess before him at the mere mention of Minho's name. The prospect sends a spark of irritation through Jisung's veins.

"No, I don't," he says more firmly, but Changbin evidently can't be deterred so easily, because he continues speaking instead of taking Jisung for his word and apologising for ever doubting him.

"You do. You like Minho. You are romantically interested in him."

Jisung actually laughs at that, but it's a short, sharp sound, and he can hear the fabric of the armrests tightening under his grip.

"What even is this? You've called me in here to tell me that I have feelings for my- my platonic friend? That's hilarious. You can stop joking now."

"I'm completely serious, Jisung-ah," Changbin says in the exact same infuriating tone, with the exact same infuriating pose, "You like him, and you've liked him for a long time."

"That’s- that’s- this is absurd!" Jisung raises his voice. With each passing second, it's as though his hold on the situation slips further and further away, "You think I can't tell what my own feelings are?"

"Yes!" Changbin exclaims, finally sitting back up. He gestures an arm out, "You're not thinking about it clearly! Just yesterday, in the livestream-"

"Don't bring the livestream into this!" Jisung interjects, "That- I, I was flustered, yeah, but it’s a damn stretch to say that that indicates anything!"

"Jisung, you've been reading stories where you fall in love with him! You call him jagi unironically! Hell, you can't go a day without attaching yourself to his side!" Changbin presses, clearly growing tired of their back and forth.

"That's normal!" Jisung argues, "Maybe… maybe not for other people, but for us it is!"

Changbin buries his head in his hands.

"That's exactly my point! Listen to yourself speak!" His tone grows increasingly exasperated, "Have you ever asked yourself why you behave the way that you do? Why you feel the way that you do?!"

"I don't need to!" Jisung shuts him down, but a nagging uncertainty builds in his chest.

Changbin lets out a frustrated groan, closing his eyes and taking a moment to calm himself down.

 "Just… let's backtrack, okay?" He says, calmer, "Even if you're not interested in him, just work with me here. There's a reason Chan and I are under the impression that you are."

Jisung swallows before curtly shaking his head, "I don't want to."

"I don't see what the issue is," Changbin says, pinching between his brows, "You read plenty of gay romance, what's so difficult about applying the concept to yourself?"

"I just don't want to. There's no point," Jisung responds. He's fully aware that he's being stubborn, but he doesn't even want to entertain the idea that Changbin could be correct. Doesn't want to face the possibility.

Changbin leans back to stare at the ceiling, before reaching to grab his phone. He fiddles with it for a moment, until a familiar piano melody rings out into the air.

Jisung huffs another disbelieving laugh.

"Seriously? Want so BAD?"

"Yep," Changbin affirms, "because you yourself said that when you wrote it, you were thinking of him."

This is such a ridiculous conversation that Jisung almost finds it comical.

"I wrote it and then I thought of him, because his vocal tone suits the concept!" he says, eyes wide.

"Cosmos flowers are his birth month flowers!" Changbin shoots back, and Jisung's argument gets stuck in his throat. Truth be told, he doesn't know what compelled him to write such a lyric, just that he did, and that it's in the final song.

"Since when are you a flower expert?" He ends up saying, though he can recognise that it's a weak attempt to change the topic. He really wants to leave, but doesn't want to flee like a coward. He'd told Chan that he could handle it, so he needs to sit here and do exactly that.

Changbin pauses the music, "It's not just this. Don't think that I haven't noticed you getting jealous whenever Minho so much as touches Seungmin."

The hair on Jisung's body stands on end, and his limbs grow cold. Every argument that Changbin has made up until this point has been something that Jisung has seen on Twitter thousands of times before: The song, them acting as "chopsticks", calling each other jagi, et cetera.

This, however, is something new.

New, and personal.

Because Jisung has made sure to never put a name to the ugly twisting sensation in his gut, and he never intends to.

With Changbin's eyes on him, his control over the conversation feels as though it's almost entirely gone.

"Don't speak on things you have no clue about," he quietly bites, itching to stand up. With each passing second, the studio feels smaller and more suffocating, such that if he stays for too much longer he'll go insane.

He's already starting to get a headache.

"That deflection just proves my point!" Changbin exclaims, voice raising again, "You're refusing to acknowledge your own feelings! You like Minho, and you get jealous when he's with Seungmin – and there's nothing wrong with that! I don't know why you torture yourself so much with this willful ignorance, but the longer you spend ignoring reality, the more you'll regret it in the future!"

"I won't regret anything, because there's nothing to regret!" Jisung argues, and Changbin scoffs.

"You're going to be thirty five years old, sad, and single, and you'll cry every night because Minho will be happily in love with another man!"

Yeah.

Okay.

Jisung is done.

Within moments he's on his feet and exiting the studio.

Changbin doesn't follow him, but does call out.

"Jisung-ah!"

Jisung stills, but doesn't turn around.

"I'm going to stay right here, and I'm going to wait for you to come back and admit that I'm right!"

"You'll be waiting forever!" Jisung shoots back before forcefully shutting the door behind him, taking off down the hallway, and clenching his fists.

Come back and admit that he's right? Yeah, right!

The morning air is crisp and cold as Jisung stumbles out of the company building, limbs still tense and mind still reeling. He can't stay where he is, but he also can't go back to the dorm – Minho can't see him in this state, and he fears that he'll do or say something irrational. No, he needs to go somewhere to clear his mind, and dispel all confusion brought forth by Changbin's meaningless claims.

Jisung doesn't like men.

He never has, and he never will.

But there's a seed of doubt now deeply entrenched in his brain, and he needs to wrench it out before it can grow into an issue.

Before he knows it, he's on a bus, going in the direction of the Han River. While the clothes he's wearing aren't exactly suited for the time of day, the icy bite through the fabric brings his mind brief moments of clarity, and for that he is thankful. Additionally, energy buzzes under his skin, left over from the conversation and in desperate need of an outlet. When his feet hit the ground once more and he starts on his way down the river-side path, Jisung tries to reckon with his thoughts.

Changbin, as much as he hates to admit it, had a point, because Jisung hasn't lived the most heterosexual-appearing life. He does call Minho pet names. He has read stories about falling in love with him. He does naturally gravitate towards him. He did write a cute, happy love song, and it did remind him of him.

But jealousy ?

… You know what? Maybe, actually.

Maybe, just maybe, it's time for Jisung to get over his aversion to the word.

Jisung tries to detach himself from the spike of fear that it sends through his chest, because jealousy doesn't have to be something romantic. It doesn't have to be a reflection of non-straight feelings.

It does, unfortunately, accurately describe the ugly twisting sensation he occasionally gets in his gut.

Jisung wouldn't be able to acknowledge this if he was a less jealous person than he is, but growing up he'd found himself wanting for much more than he had, and thus became familiar with the sensation.

So, yeah, he can recognise what jealousy feels like.

It feels like watching his friends go visit their hometowns.

It feels like listening to someone else be complimented by the vocal teacher, while receiving no praise of his own.

It feels like seeing Minho's face for the first time, and realising that he's been outshone.

It feels like knowing that Minho and Seungmin are sleeping in the same bed.

It feels like dealing with Minho spending more time with Felix than with him.

It feels like watching Seungmin and Minho play the Pepero game.

A weight lifts from Jisung's shoulders. It's slight, but noticeable.

Minho's face suddenly flashes through his mind, when he’d grinned and asked "are you jealous?".

Yes, he wants to go back and say. Yes, I am, because I want to spend more time with you. I want you to sacrifice your time with Felix for me, not the other way around.

Jealousy is a normal human emotion, and he'd been suppressing it and ignoring it for so long because he was scared of what it would mean.

But it doesn't have to mean anything.

He can be jealous and still be straight.

Simple.

When his legs grow weary, Jisung finds a damp wooden bench to slump onto, gazing out at the slow-moving grey river before him. The morning is overcast and there's a slightly uncomfortable breeze flapping through the fabric of Jisung's jumper, but he pays it no mind. Around him, various joggers and early-morning commuters go about their day, thinking nothing of the young man sitting down with messy hair and a bleak expression.

Pulling out his phone, Jisung sees a notification from a few minutes prior. The message ID reads 'Linoring', and it's ironic just how quickly he shoves all of his worries aside. Within moments he's unlocked his phone, chest filled with warmth, and when he lays eyes on what he's been sent, an involuntary smile pulls on his lips.

The cat photos from yesterday.

There are five in total, and showcase Soonie, Doongi, and Dori in a variety of endearing predicaments. Jisung's heart swells, and he takes a moment to focus on each one individually, before messaging back a quick 'thanks, hyung! (＾▽＾)'.

While impeccable timing on Minho's part, unfortunately it's only temporary relief, as before long dreary reality fades back into the forefront of Jisung's mind.

He sighs.

Maybe he did overreact before, when Changbin had tried to get through to him.

It's just that he's been struggling with this topic for some time now, unbeknownst to the older man.

Sure, Changbin is aware of the surface level things that the fans pick up on, and the slightly more subtle, personal emotions that Jisung fails to hide… But he doesn't know about the dream. He doesn't know about the image of Minho and Seungmin that plagues Jisung's mind. He doesn’t know about so much of what Jisung has been struggling to shove into the past, so much of what he knows he shouldn't be thinking about in the first place.

("I don't see what the issue is") Changbin had said, ("You read plenty of gay romance, what's so difficult about applying the concept to yourself?")

Jisung thinks back to how this all began – how the tragic ending of an anime had sent him freefalling into uncharted internet waters. At the time, he'd gone through the gradual process of opening his eyes to gay romance, unpacking the heteronormative stereotypes that he'd previously associated with love, and finding himself compelled by stories of two men defying all odds to be with one another. The added struggle of sexuality, while not something that Jisung could relate to, brought added meaning to the love between the characters.

So many times in popular media, if the story features a man and a woman, they'll end up together even without any discernible romantic chemistry. Gay romance typically doesn't have this immediate societal acceptance, and thus must make the effort to bring the protagonists together in a manner that is realistic and captivating to the audience or readers. Obviously, it would be better if popular media could so easily and casually depict non-straight couples, but unfortunately that's just not the case with a world so deeply entrenched in prejudice and hatred.

So, it was through his newfound interest in gay romance that Jisung started to learn more about gayness in general. He's intelligent enough to understand that events depicted in fanfiction are likely going to be exaggerations and subversions of reality, so he'd offset this with genuine, actual research. When he'd come across terms that he was unfamiliar with, he'd open a new tab and look them up. It was through this method that Jisung found himself considering how Minho's life must be as a gay man, wondering if he does anything similar to the content described on his screen.

Everything had been going fine with this until Jisung had caved and read his first Lee Know x Han fanfiction.

Even though he'd briefly managed to convince himself that it wasn't that impactful of an experience, thanks to his post-dream clarity he can recognise the emotional journey for what it was.

For one genuine moment, his mind had been completely overwhelmed by the narrative at hand.

For one genuine moment, he'd wanted to kiss Minho.

It was entirely the fault of the story and his overactive imagination, but it was a desire that he'd felt all the same.

And that scared him.

Still does scare him.

'That's the point!' he can almost hear Changbin yell, and Jisung rubs his hands over his face.

…Look.

It's not like that.

Jisung knows it's not like that, but maybe there is some use in thinking about it.

Maybe, if he can confront his thoughts directly, he can dispel his worries once and for all.

Maybe, if he does a quick google search to find some website called, 'How To Know If You Like Men' or, 'Foolproof Gayness Test', he can compare his own experiences and make it absolutely clear that he doesn't swing that way.

… But first he's going to get something to eat, because his stomach has been grumbling for the better part of a minute, and it's really starting to piss him off.

Jisung, over the years, has become somewhat of a café connoisseur. With Minho, he's visited cat cafés, major chain cafés, small backstreet cafés, cafés in other countries, anime themed cafés, fancy cafés, and in one bizarre instance in Japan, a maid café. He's well acquainted with hot drinks, pastries, cakes, and varying special menu items, and can generally tell what he'll enjoy from any given menu.

Right now, he doesn't care about any of that. He just wants to eat.

It's the time of day where cafés are generally starting to open to customers, expecting a small trickle of people looking for coffee on their way to work. Jisung slinks into the first one he sees, relaxing as he escapes the wind and chill, head tilted up to read the menu display board.

Drinks… cakes… yep, all the usual stuff.

He's about to step forward and order a cheap breakfast pastry, when from the corner of his eye, Jisung sees something. It sits in the refrigerated glass counter shelves, pristine and perfect, completely up for grabs.

Cheesecake.

Delicious looking cheesecake, at that.

But it's first thing in the morning, so he really shouldn't buy it.

… but he really wants it.

No, no. He's not going to buy it. End of question.

(He buys it. Really, he's been through enough emotional turmoil this morning to deserve it).

The café is fairly cosy and cute, with warm antique lights and a general theme of delicate, pastel flowers. The tables and chairs are all worn and wooden, but rather than seeming tacky, have an air of wisdom and grace to them. Jisung sits at a table near the back, as far away from the counter and other customers as he can possibly be. In no universe does he want to risk someone seeing his phone.

The server brings him the slice of cheesecake on a small plate, decorated with additional raspberry sauce and a small purple flower that Jisung assumes is edible. Taking a bite, Jisung hums in contentment.

It's good.

Not as good as Minho's, his brain supplies, but good enough.

When Jisung opens Google, he instinctively chooses incognito mode. Technically it doesn't matter, because he's an adult man who can search for whatever he wants, and there's no one in his life that is going to check his search history. Despite this, it offers a realm of comfort and anonymity that makes the whole situation seem a lot less real, for which he is thankful.

'How to know if I like men as well as women?' he types after a moment, and hovers his thumb over the enter button.

Fuck it.

The top results vary between quizzes, informative websites, and question-and-answer forums. With no more hesitation, Jisung chooses the first legitimate website, titled 'Bisexual or Just Open Minded? Top 5 Questions to Ask Yourself in Confusing Times'.

-

While the world has made significant progress in the last few years regarding open discussions of sex and sexuality, it is still a difficult subject for many people to navigate. Bisexuality, in particular, can pose as a confusing subversion to the everyday experience. Many people are perfectly comfortable with liking the opposite gender, but then face unusual feelings for the same gender and don't know whether it’s a reflection of their sexuality, or a general curiosity towards the LGBTQ+ community.

Here is a list of five questions that you can ask yourself to help determine if your feelings do or don't stem from a genuine attraction. Of course, this is just an aid in your journey of self-discovery, so don't take it as a solid answer. If you come away from this list understanding yourself and your sexuality, that's great news, but if you don't, don't fret. These things take time, and there's no deadline on finding your true self.

-

Taking another bite of the dessert, Jisung braces himself to be open, genuine, and honest with his answers. He likes women – this is an undisputed fact of his life. He's had pleasant sex with a woman, feels frequent attraction to women, and has written love songs with women in mind (see: Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend?) He's well aware that bisexuality is a thing, hell, Felix is bisexual, but it's never been a label that he's identified with… Because he's straight, obviously.

Well, anyway.

Time to get started.

-

Question 1: How interested am I in LGBTQ+ issues?

If you find yourself frequently engaging with LGBTQ+ discussions, reading stories about LGBTQ+ couples, or questioning what being LGBTQ+ is like, it may be indicative of something more. Curiosity is both natural and normal, but if you are thinking about such things every day, it may speak more to the heart than the mind.

-

Jisung really can't defend himself regarding this topic, because by now he's likely read millions of words centred around couples of the LGBTQ+ variety. He's done active research into homosexuality, and it buzzes in the back of his mind every minute that he's awake. He's spent the past week battling with the demons of his mind that want him to think about things that he shouldn't care about.

Next question.

-

Question 2: Do people around me ever ask if I am bisexual or queer?

Your sexuality is your business and your business only, and there is no need to try to justify it to anyone, regardless of who they are and what they may ask. This being said, if people in your life are frequently asking whether you are bisexual or another LGBTQ+ orientation, it may be time to take a step back. It can be easy to get stuck in our own heads with issues like this, so considering what gives people this impression may provide some clarity on the matter.

-

Jisung frowns.

… More like tells me that I'm bisexual or queer.

This question seems specifically written to address his own altercation this morning, taking Changbin's side. Jisung feels a bit betrayed, to be honest.

The thing is, he does fully understand why Changbin and Chan think he isn't straight, and he does understand why Changbin was concerned enough to bring it up. He just hadn't wanted to give his opinion any validation, because… well… you know.

But look, there are three more questions. Just because the first two are applicable doesn't mean that all of them will be.

-

Question 3: How do I see my future?

Most people have an idea of how they want their future relationships to look. Whether that is settling down and having kids with the opposite gender, living out your final days with one special person, or going solo with twelve cats, different plans for the future can indicate different things. If you are open to living the rest of your life with a person of the same gender, you may be part of the LGBTQ+ community.

-

See, this is just unfair. Jisung lives with Minho right now, and he's content with doing so for as long as is necessary. They're idols – dating and relationships are hidden aspects of their lives, so Jisung hasn't even considered moving into a forever home with the woman of his dreams, since it's such a faraway concept.

Besides, Jisung does really, really like living with Minho. Their lifestyles click well, they click well as people, and Jisung enjoys the casual physical affection that they're able to show one another. He'll have to buy a house near Minho in the future, when he has… a family of his own.

Wow, that's an odd concept.

He's always assumed that he'll marry and have kids, but he's never taken the time to actually consider it.

It's… an odd prospect.

Regardless, he'll need a house near Minho's, because how else will he get to cuddle up with someone on the couch and watch anime?

Well, he supposes he'll have his wife for that.

… But what if his wife doesn't like anime?

No, he wouldn't marry someone who doesn't like anime.

… But what if his wife thinks it's weird that he's physically affectionate with Minho? Or what if Minho's boyfriend (husband? Is it possible for him to get married in another country?) thinks it's weird?

Jisung isn't so much worried about his wife, because he'll never marry a woman who has an issue with that sort of thing, but Minho's husband? Especially considering that Jisung is also a man?

God, that thought does something painful to Jisung's chest.

Minho having a husband.

Jisung no longer being able to hug and touch him as casually as he does now.

…Shit, he's gotten sidetracked.

Next question.

-

Question 4: Have I ever felt "butterflies" about someone of the same gender?

If you've found yourself blushing or getting flustered around people of the same gender, it may be indicative of something other than heterosexuality. Admiration for people of the same gender and appreciation of good looks are both very normal, but if you find yourself getting butterflies, your feelings likely aren't strictly platonic.

-

Okay… this is getting a bit concerning.

Jisung can't count the amount of times that the older man has made him blush, or caused butterflies to burst to life in his chest. It's practically a daily occurrence. Minho knows exactly how to fluster him, and makes use of that knowledge as frequently as possible.

Not to mention, Minho is fucking handsome, and Jisung has definitely gotten butterflies while looking at him before. Just yesterday, in the livestream…

-

Question 5: Have I ever fantasised about someone of the same gender?

This is perhaps the key question. If you find yourself frequently thinking about dating people of the same gender, kissing people of the same gender, or having sex with people of the same gender, you likely are not heterosexual. Similarly, dreaming about romance and sex with people of the same gender can be a telling sign. Attraction towards people with features of the opposite sex and/ or distinctly androgynous features is what separates many in the LGBTQ+ community from a label of heterosexuality, and fantasising about such probably includes you in that category.

-

Well… fuck.

Shit.

Wait, no.

But-

No way.

But then again, if you think about it…

But really it's not that-

Unless-

All questions considered…

… It is kind of…

…..

…

.

.

.

Holy shit.

Jisung likes Minho.

Jisung… like likes Minho.

As in romantically.

As in holding hands and kissing and staying with each other forever.

As in Changbin was right.

Fuck

Shit shit shit shit-

What is he going to do?!

This is terrible news!

Jisung is glad that he chose a table hidden away, because he couldn't control his expressions even if he wanted to. It's as though he's been doused in ice water, as the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle slot together in his mind.

Holy shit, it makes so much sense! All of the fanfictions! The dream! The racing heartbeat!

He fucking likes Minho!

He's not straight!

Jisung puts down the fork and scrunches his fingers into his hair, eyes wide.

He's such an idiot! Just how long has he liked Minho for?! Just how many times has it been painfully obvious to everyone around him?! Why didn't he figure it out sooner?!

On the table in front of him, Jisung's phone suddenly starts buzzing, and he sharply jerks his head to stare at it with raised eyebrows.

Now is not the time!

The caller ID blinks into view.

[Linoring]

Jisung's heartbeat jumps into his throat, soul promptly floating away from his body.

No no no no no no-

He can't deal with this.

Not right now.

"What's up, hyung?" He answers as normally as possible, but it really, really doesn't sound normal.

"… Are you okay?" Minho's voice comes through the speaker, and oh god oh god his voice-

"Yeah! I'm fine!" Jisung responds with an awkward laugh, "Just a bit distracted right now is all. What did you want to say?"

"… Alright, " Minho sceptically responds, "I just wanted to know where you are. I came to the studio, but it's only Changbin and Chan here. They said you'd gone out."

"Oh! Yeah, ah, I'm at a café right now," Jisung says, gritting his teeth afterwards because could he sound any less okay?!

"Without me?" Minho asks, and Jisung wants to slap himself.

"Ah! I was going for a walk along the Han River and suddenly got really hungry and I'm sorry I should have called you but I was distracted and-"

"-It's okay, Jisung-ah!" Minho cuts in with a laugh, "I don't care, you'll just have to take me there someday if it's good, yeah?"

"… Yeah, sounds good," Jisung says, voice tight. He isn't sure if he'll be able to return here without getting vivid violent flashbacks of this exact moment.

The line is silent for a moment.

"…Jisung-ah," Minho says, voice softer, "If you're with a girl, you can tell me."

What?!

"No! I'm not with a girl, why would I be with a girl?!" Jisung blurts awkwardly in response, and Minho huffs.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure if I believe y- Oh? What was that?" Minho's voice gets quieter as he speaks to someone on his end. "Changbin wants to know when you'll be getting back," he relays, and Jisung rolls his eyes.

Of course.

Well fuck Changbin, because he's never going to return.

"…Soon," he sighs into the phone.

"He says he'll be back soon," Minho relays, before speaking to him once  more, "Well, have fun at the café, then."

It's a clear cue for the call to end.

"You too," Jisung says before hanging up, dropping his phone back onto the table, and burying his head in his hands .

“You too ?”
Why did I say “you too”?! He's not even at a café right now!

Argh…

.

.

.

Gosh.

Jisung isn't straight.

He doesn't know what he is, but heterosexual is not it.

That's kind of crazy.

How is he even supposed to reckon with such a thing? After all of this time?

… Well, slow and steady wins the race, so he's not going to doom himself by overthinking it right here, right now, in a café along the Han River. He needs to get back to the company in at least somewhat of a timely manner, because Changbin is likely expecting him with a shit eating grin on his face.

Really, the worst possible timing for Minho to call him…

Jisung finishes his cheesecake, and decides to catch a taxi back to the company. If their managers ever find out he'll likely be scolded because "he's an idol and it's dangerous", but he refuses to re-walk the Han River path, and he isn't entirely sure where he is right now anyway.

The taxi driver is an older man who seemingly isn't one for conversation, because the noise that fills the car moments upon getting in is nothing more than the quiet background noise of the radio. In some ways, Jisung is thankful for this, because it allows him to fall back into a state of mild self-reflection.

There's a question lingering in the forefront of his mind, one that he can't brush away with all of the others.

Why exactly had he been so scared to confront the idea of liking men?

Well, for one, aside from a select few people, everyone around Jisung thinks that he is a straight man exclusively attracted to women. They think this because it's the societal norm, and because he's an average guy who can be a bit odd at times, but not in any sort of controversial way.

Now, obviously to  Jisung, being gay or any other LGBTQ+ identity is perfectly normal. He's always felt this way, and has never been uncomfortable or off put around people who live such a lifestyle.

It's just that, in the eyes of many countries, it's not normal.

To many people, it's an abomination.

Liking Minho comes with a lot more than simple feelings for a friend, and that's fucking scary.

Maybe part of the problem is that it's taken so long for Jisung to figure it out. He knows that he's technically still young, but Minho has always been aware of his sexuality, and has always spoken about it so confidently within their circle of people. He's even told his parents.

("… For me it's a bit different. If I'm seen with a guy, people probably won't assume we're dating. If we get found out, though… it won't end well.")

This is what Minho had said, way back when Jisung was enacting phase one of his 'Please Reject Me, Hyung!' plan. It’s a depressing thought, but all too real.

Jisung swallows, lips pressing into a thin line.

He can already tell that he won't be getting much sleep tonight.

Changbin applauds when Jisung slinks back into the studio. As in, he physically stands up, flashes Jisung a wide grin, and claps as loudly as possible for a solid 6 seconds. Chan sighs from his seat, but a slight smile pulls on his lips, and he spreads his arms to offer Jisung a hug. Jisung falls into it easily, and one of Chan's hands comes up to ruffle his hair.

"You lost me a bet," he humouredly says, but Jisung can tell that he's glad he's returned.

"And you won me a bet," Changbin says, to which Jisung flips him off.

After a moment, Jisung shifts in Chan's arms to look up.

"Why was Lino-hyung here before?" He asks, and Chan shrugs.

"I'm not sure. He left after calling you."

"What did you say to him?" Changbin interjects, "He looked kind of off as he was leaving."

Jisung sighs as the phone conversation replays in his mind, exhaustion already settling in his bones despite the still-early hour.

"Yeah, he's probably under the impression that I was out with a girl," he explains, "I told him that I wasn't, but I don't think he believed me."

"Well you may want to clarify that," Changbin says, "What if he thinks you're taken?"

"I will later," Jisung grumbles, pressing his face back into Chan's shoulder, "I don't think I can face him at the moment."

"That's alright," Chan says at the same time that Changbin says, "You don't have to immediately, but if you want any chance with him you have to make yourself seem like an option."

Jisung's jaw involuntarily clenches, and he lets out a humourless laugh.

"See I would," he starts, "but he's not interested in me."

A beat of silence fills the room.

"Huh?" Changbin eventually says, "What do you mean? How do you…"

Jisung thinks back to the hot mess that was 'Please Reject Me, Hyung!'. Really, it was a pretty shit plan, but he'd come away from it with an answer, and that's all that matters.

"I just know, okay?" He sighs, eyes squeezing shut.

He can feel Chan turn his head to look at Changbin, but doesn't bother to care about it. They communicate telepathically or something, because Changbin lets out a quiet sigh to match Jisung's own.

"How are you feeling?" Chan asks, his hold on Jisung getting slightly tighter.

"I'm… a bit overwhelmed, to be honest," Jisung responds after some thought, "I'd just never considered it possible for me to like… men."

Saying it out loud takes more effort than he'd like to admit.

"But," he quickly continues, "It makes sense, because recently I've been thinking about a lot of things I shouldn't, and have spent a shit ton of energy shoving it all to the back of my mind."

Chan hums understandingly, "You can take your time with this, yeah? Don't feel any need to rush into it."

Jisung nods.

A few seconds pass before Changbin speaks again, his voice softer – as though he's come to a realisation.

"Jisung-ah… You know that you're allowed to feel this way, right? You're allowed to have thoughts about other men."

Jisung tenses, breath catching in his throat, but Changbin continues regardless.

"It's not something… weird, or gross, or abnormal, yeah? It's perfectly fine, just like how it is for Minho and Felix. I know that you don't have an issue with them, so you don't need to have an issue with yourself, either."

With that, it's as though a weight lifts from Jisung's shoulders. An overpowering, suffocating weight that he'd gotten so used to that he hadn't realised it could ever be removed.

He feels lighter.

Quite like he could float into the sky, actually, because he'd needed to hear that.

He'd really, really needed to hear that.

Raising his head once more, any words get stuck in Jisung's throat, so he resorts to nodding.

"And there's nothing wrong with thinking about Minho specifically that way, either," Chan softly supplies, before leaning back and reaching out to wipe a tear from Jisung cheek.

Oh.

He's crying.

How long has he been crying?

Meeting eyes with Changbin, the older man's expression is warm, melting away any of the tension left in Jisung’s body. An involuntary smile pulls on his lips, grateful for everything his hyungs have done to help him, despite his lack of cooperation.

It’s evident now, that even if Jisung doesn’t open up to them, even if he continues being painfully awkward and oblivious, and even if his life falls gradually apart into a chaotic, burning mess… 

Chan and Changbin will always be on his side. 

Minho is in his room when Jisung gets back to the dorm that evening, moon high up in the sky because he's been procrastinating this very moment. He'd gone out to eat dinner at a western fusion restaurant with his hyungs, and while he hadn't drunk, he'd almost considered it. Unfortunately, while opening a bottle of soju, Changbin had made the point that he needs to clear the air with this hyung as soon as possible, and so here he is.

Standing in the doorway of Minho's room, looking at the older man who is showered and tucked into bed, scrolling through something on his phone. His main light isn't on, so Jisung can only see him in the pale glow cast from his device, but Minho's eyes meet his own, a silent question hanging in the air.

"I really wasn't with a girl this morning," Jisung says, getting straight to the point, "I just happened across the cafe while out on a walk."

It's subtle, but Minho's shoulders relax, and his expression morphs into one of a shy contentment, with a slight smile and crescent eyes.

"Alright, I believe you," he quietly says, and Jisung can't fight back the grin that pulls on his own lips, heart skipping a beat.

"Good."

When the door clicks shut behind him and Jisung stumbles to his own room, his pulse races in his limbs like he's just run a marathon. His cheeks feel warm and a giddiness bubbles up in his chest, all pastel hearts and fluffy animals and cutely decorated desserts and shit.

Gosh .

Liking Minho is not going to be easy.

Chapter Text

When Jisung struts out onto the street the next day, a sense of contentment is so deeply woven into his chest that he doubts anything will be able to spoil his mood. The sky is clear and a refreshing breeze flows around him, complementing the upturned corners of his lips, as he considers where to head on this rare day off.

Before falling asleep, Jisung had made several promises to himself, to ensure the betterment of his own mental health and wellbeing moving forwards.

He won't repress any more of his emotions. He'll hide them – that's a non-negotiable – but he won't turn a blind eye to them or bitterly shove them to the back of his mind.

He won't deny himself any more of his self-indulgent internet musings. Aka, he'll allow himself to read fanfiction again, and he'll allow himself to have ship-ridden social media pages.

Lastly, he'll take the time out of his life to be truly introspective, and reflect upon himself and his sexuality. As he's an adult man that has only just realised his attraction to men, he doesn't know what that means for him just yet. Regarding sex, yes, but also regarding his life and his future. Just because he's fairly sure that Minho is off the cards, doesn't mean that other men will be down the line. When he one day moves on from his current crush, who knows? Maybe he'll be the one with a husband that doesn't like him and Minho cuddling.

Following a deep, dreamless sleep, Jisung had woken up that morning to a text message from Hyunjin, sent at 3:44am.

Hwang Hyunjin: Give me something else good to read

Hwang Hyunjin: I just know you have a list somewhere

Jisung had almost sighed, almost disappointedly sunk back into a state of begrudging auto-joy-denial, until the second promise blossomed vibrantly in the forefront of his mind. Then, he'd spent a perfectly reasonable amount of time (50 minutes) gleefully curating a Hyunjin-specific list of anime fanfiction, organised alphabetically with his own star ratings and notes on what to expect. Like a drowning man breaking through the ocean's surface, every fic he clicked on was a breath of fresh air – reminding him of just how much he'd been missing out on.

Once the list was emailed, Jisung had rolled out of bed, hair sticking out in various unflattering directions, but mood the best it'd been in weeks. Pattering out into the kitchen, the dorm noticeably lacked a certain older man, but just as Jisung was about to head into the bathroom, something on the island bench caught his eye.

A bright pink sticky note.

Curiosity overwhelming his need to get ready for the day, Jisung swiftly went to check the note's content.

[Check the fridge], it said.

Check the fridge?

Jisung checked the fridge, and sitting on the top shelf was an iced americano, still in its takeaway bag.

Minho bought this for me?

If Jisung was feeling good about the day before that point, his joy had now been amplified a thousandfold. A wide smile pulled on his cheeks as he grabbed the drink, a sense of affection bubbling up in his chest.

There was just something so… endearing about it.

About Minho thinking about him when he wasn't there.

About Minho caring about him enough to buy him a drink he likes.

About Minho taking the time out of his life to come back to their dorm and leave him the drink for when he wakes up.

It was such a simple act of kindness, and yet in that moment, Jisung was finally, finally able to fully experience his crush on the older man. Finally able to be giddy and smitten without embarrassment and obliviousness overshadowing it. Much like when allowing himself to interact with fanfiction again, a weightless, free sensation overcame him, and it was almost as though a dazzling, glittery filter descended upon the world.

When shaving away the previous day's five-o'clock shadow, Jisung couldn't stop smiling, so the process took thrice as long as usual.

When deciding what to wear, he gleefully plucked a jumper out of Minho's closet instead of choosing one of his own.

Minho may not be interested in Jisung, but Jisung sure as hell is interested in him, and he's no longer going to deny himself that. He's no longer going to tell himself that his feelings are platonic. He's going to live out his one-sided crush with as much blushing, fumbling, and awkward stuttering as necessary.

Of course, there's more to all of this than just bubbly newfound feelings. There are societal implications, career risks, and plenty of other challenges that he must confront sooner or later, but for now, Jisung is simply going to let himself be happy. A new, pastel pink stage of his life has begun, and he's going to embrace it as much as he can.

Walking down the street, iced americano in hand, birds high up in the trees start singing and Jisung grins, humming along with their tune.

As it turns out, Jisung's feelings have manifested in his life similarly to a dormant volcano. Or rather, an active volcano that he's been trying to hold back with his bare hands, that everyone could see exploding except for him. Well, now that he's taken his hands away, two things have happened. The first is that the volcano has continued exploding completely unhindered, and the second is that instead of just having his hands horrifically burnt, Jisung has been drenched in boiling molten lava.

This is particularly evident as Jisung sits upon the stiff leather couch of a karaoke room, jaw dropped and eyes wide as Minho… as Minho-

Well, before the details are explained, some context is due.

After a bright, happy start to the day, he'd decided to simply go for a walk around in the pleasant weather, and take a look in a nearby manga/ anime/ pop culture store. Minho would be gone for most of the day as he'd already established plans with some of his choreographer friends, so Jisung was left alone to peacefully flick through volumes of Oshi no Ko and One Piece, gradually sipping away at his drink. He purchased a cute Anya keychain on his way out because he'd feel awkward leaving the store empty handed. If, upon returning to the dorm, he'd immediately attached it to one of his guitar cases, it was no one else's business.

Following a relaxed lunch of fried chicken, Jisung was considering texting to see what the other group members were up to, but Jeongin beat him to it. He called Jisung to ask if he had any plans for the evening, and if not, if he wanted to join him, Seungmin, and Felix at karaoke.

Obviously, Jisung agreed.

Since the karaoke place wasn't too far away, Jisung decided to walk there, underneath the golden glow of a setting sun, with Tiger JK blasting in his headphones. He rocked up at the same time the others did – Jeongin, Seungmin, Felix, and… Minho?!

They made eye contact, and Jisung's heart did a funny tumbling flipping thing.

As it turns out, Felix had contacted the older man about his plans, and the timing worked out for him to make it to karaoke without stopping past their dorm. Jisung flashed him a smile that hopefully didn't come across as flustered as he felt, and Minho's eyes looked him up and down, widening slightly as he evidently noticed Jisung's choice of jumper. He smiled and his ears tinted pink, but he didn't comment on it.

As they entered the building, Jisung found his way to Minho's side.

"Thanks for the iced Americano," he earnestly said, but was met with a blank stare.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Minho responded, but his lip twitched up slightly, so Jisung scrunched up his face and playfully whacked his arm.

The karaoke room was large, with leather seats on either side, a table in the middle, and enough room in the front for them all to stand and perform, if the need were to arise. Seeing this, Jisung slipped onto the left-hand couch, reaching to grab the menu and scan through their food options. Minho sat next to him, their legs knocking together, and he leaned into Jisung to have a read as well.

Jisung's heart rate didn't skyrocket at all. Definitely not.

They ended up ordering fried chicken with alcohol and a few side dishes, since Jisung was fine to have the same dish twice in one day. Would it be good for his health? No, but he didn't care. A day off is a day off for a reason.

As they waited for their food to arrive, the songs started off quite standard: Big Bang's 'Fantastic Baby', Chanyeol and Punch's 'Stay With Me', Ailee's 'U&I', and Lim Changjung's 'A glass of soju'. It was only after filling their stomachs that the group gained a new level of confidence, with Jisung boldly attempting So Chan-Whee's Tears. Felix gave 'Let It Go' in its original key his best shot, Minho and Jisung did an actually decent rendition of EXO's Wolf (though they both collapsed afterwards), and Jeongin and Seungmin joined hands to do an entertaining interpretation of Orange Caramel's 'Catallena'.

Though Jisung chose not to drink, the atmosphere was lively, and the neon lights were more than enough to keep him energised as time went on. Minho, on the other hand, downed his beer like water and seemed perfectly sober regardless, which Jisung found unfair.

It was only when they were choosing the next song that Jisung's night took a dramatic turn.

"Hyung!" Jeongin had exclaimed while looking through the song list, "You should do this!"

Minho had leant over the table to get a better look, and laughed when he realised the request.

"Really, Jeongin-ah?" He said, but his body language indicated excitement, and Jisung couldn't handle being out of the loop so he darted over to see for himself, and found that Jeongin was pointing at 'Something' by Girl's Day. He, too, laughed, for at that time he had no idea what turmoil he would soon face.

"Your voice suits it," Seungmin humouredly pointed out, and Felix hummed in agreement.

"You know…" Minho said, slumping back onto the couch with a similarly humoured expression, "I actually know the dance."

This drew a chorus of gasps from the rest of the group, and Jisung turned to him, reaching out to harshly grab his shoulder.

"Now you need to do it!" He exclaimed, but Minho shook his head.

"It's embarrassing."

"Come on, hyung!" Felix interjected, "It's just us!"

His words had an odd edge to them – a secretive second message that Jisung couldn't decipher. Despite this, it clearly did the trick, because Minho gripped his knees and stood up with a groan, flashing a shy smile as he went to pick up one of the microphones.

"If anyone films this I'm throwing their phone into the Han River," he warned, but the rest of the group just egged him on, vague promises thrown out amid eagerness to see the performance. After a moment of thought, Minho tucked his shirt into his sweatpants, and then it was time to begin.

The song started to play, and the room was flooded with seductive pink and purple light.

Minho slowly rolled his head back, half-closing his eyelids and exposing his neck, before coming back around to stare into the empty space between the couches. He wasn't looking at the karaoke screen, but it made sense that he'd have memorised the lyrics to such an iconic song.

Jisung swallowed, realising abruptly that this may not have been the best idea.

Shit.

When Minho began to sing, he slowly clicked in time with the music. Then, when the beat dropped, he sank sensually to his knees, and three things happened. Jisung's jaw fell, his eyes widened, and the breath was swept from his lungs.

…Which is where he is now, desperately trying to hold on to a semblance of his sanity as Minho replicates the choreography, thighs flexing through the material of his sweatpants. His movements are somewhat hesitant – naturally shy, considering it's an incredibly sexy girl group dance, but that does nothing to lessen its impact on Jisung's health and wellbeing.

Simply witnessing Minho here… on the floor… doing this… is enough to send a flustered heat up the back of his neck.

Standing up for the verse, Minho casts a quick glance Jisung's way, and grins when he notices the state that the other man is in. To Jisung's detriment, this seems to encourage him, and his movements become smoother – more confident. Of course, it isn't perfect, since Minho has never practiced singing and dancing to the song at the same time, but by the time Jisung is witnessing the pre-chorus, he's almost ready to faint. Minho, obviously, isn't wearing a dress with a waist-high slit in it, yet he somehow still manages to embody the seductive, teasing tone of the original dance.

Additionally, Seungmin was right. The high-pitched falsettos do suit Minho's voice, and it's just the cherry on top of an already nosebleed-inducing performance. Jisung desperately hopes that the coloured lights hide the crimson shade of his skin.

Speaking of the other members – Jeongin and Seungmin seem to be completely oblivious towards Jisung's turmoil – whistling and clapping with amusement at Minho's particularly flirtatious movements – while Felix sends Jisung periodic glances.

Hopefully he hasn't caught on.

Or, at least, hopefully he hasn't caught on as much as Minho apparently has, because Minho keeps looking into his eyes and god Jisung keeps having to remind himself that this is part of the performance. This is completely platonic. Minho is dancing sexily because it's a sexy dance, not because he wants Jisung to think that he's sexy. On top of this – the performance itself is borderline a joke. It's nothing serious. The only reason it feels serious is because the volcano of Jisung's feelings has wiped out at least five small cities by this point.

Who knew that a lack of denial would lead to this mess?

The song ends and Minho walks back over to the couch while all four of the other members clap. His ears are bright red and he doesn't meet Jisung's eyes when he sits down, instead scratching the back of his neck at the compliments being thrown his way.

Jisung lightly bumps him with his shoulder as a show of encouragement, and after a moment Minho bumps him back, a silent acknowledgement that helps settle the rush in Jisung's chest.

Gosh.

It was truly an amazing performance.

So amazing, in fact, that Jisung can't stop thinking about it.

For the rest of the karaoke session.

For the trip back to the dorm.

For the time it takes him and Minho to cook and eat a healthy amount of ramyeon.

For the duration of his bed-time routine.

When Jisung finally slumps into the plush covers of his bed, phone on 25% brightness, his mind is fully alert and buzzing, replaying and replaying and replaying Minho's performance.

His sensual movements.

His thighs.

His eyes piercing into Jisung's own.

Things had been completely normal between them after Minho got over his short burst of shyness, and after Felix started singing another song. He'd playfully bantered with Jisung, knocked their knees together, and continued behaving in a completely platonic manner, so there's no way his dance was targeted towards Jisung specifically.

At the same time, Jisung has now wound up scrolling through TikTok edits of the older man, so suffice to say his heart does not care about the intentionality whatsoever.

It's odd, though, going through social media with this new frame of mind. When he likes a post about Minho, it's a non-platonic like. The edits of Minho's stage performances set to sexy music actually, genuinely attract him.

As much as he'd revelled in the freedom of internet usage that morning, there is still a level of guilt when he engages with such things. That quiet voice in the back of his mind telling him that it's wrong and gross to feel the way he does. He knows that on an objective level it's not, but detaching himself from the mindset will be a long process.

… Though there's nothing quite like exposure therapy, is there? Especially when the exposure in question is towards his incredibly handsome, globally famous dormmate crush.

Biting his bottom lip, Jisung switches over from TikTok to Twitter. This is the platform that he's been most hesitant to engage with, since it was the most infected by Jisung's Lee Know x Han fanfiction obsession.

Sure enough, when his homepage loads he's met with a fanart of himself and the older man standing face-to-face, a pepero stick between them. It's drawn with a chibi art style and the colour palette is distinctly centred around pink and green, and overall Jisung finds it very cute. The memory of that moment never fails to send a rush of embarrassment through his body, but he can push past it to appreciate a good artwork.

Continuing to scroll, he's met with the usual compilation videos, screaming text posts, gay memes, anime spoilers, and gifs of he and Minho acting suspiciously intimate.

And then it finally happens. He's met with content that, before now, he would scroll away from immediately, and then blink a few times to cleanse his short-term memory.

Fanart of Minho wearing a risque outfit and staring up seductively at the metaphorical camera, hair pushed away from his face. Jisung's hand cups his jaw (identifiable via his hanquokka ring), and Minho's eyelids are adorned with small jewels and sparkly eyeshadow, while his lips are slightly parted.

Woah.

Jisung's room suddenly feels a tad too warm.

He lets himself take in the digital painting, tracing over the curves and hard edges of Minho's body with his eyes. It's an amazing work – the artist has clearly practiced anatomy – but such technical aspects are lost to Jisung as he becomes entranced by the scene at hand.

He starts to imagine real-life Minho in a similar pose, but is violently slapped in the face by the reality that he has seen Minho like this before. Not in any kind of similar scandalous outfit, but disheveled... looking up-

No! No no no no no

Backtrack backtrack backtrack back-

As much as this is one hell of a fantasy, Jisung shouldn't indulge in it! Not from a shame standpoint, but from a Minho-had-genuinely-been-in-a-bad-place-when-he-found-him-like-that standpoint!

And he had the bite mark on his neck.

Ew.

Jisung had almost forgotten about that, but now it's back in the forefront of his mind like a fly that won't leave him alone. Some random man… just a complete and total stranger, had bitten Minho's neck. The sensation that swarms in Jisung's gut at the thought is less jealousy and more anger – a vaguely possessive desire to hold a sword to the throat of anyone who tries to touch Minho in the future.

It's reasonable anger, he supposes, since he has a crush on the older man, but it doesn't change the reality of the situation. Jisung kind of wants to bite Minho's neck himself. Not enough to hurt or break the skin, but to cover up the metaphorical mark left by the other guy. Prove that Minho is his, and no one else's.

…Save for the fact that Minho isn't his... but that's a harsh reality for another day.

Continuing scrolling, the next artwork that catches Jisung off guard is one of himself, lying back on a bed, with the angle showcasing him from above. His eyes are half-lidded and his arms are splayed above his head, tugging up his shirt to reveal a sliver of his stomach. It's clear that in this scenario, he isn't the one topping.

Jisung swallows, but an uncomfortable sensation twists in his gut.

He's... Conflicted.

Really, the artwork itself is good. There's no doubt about that, but it feels a bit… weird, to imagine himself bottoming.

Like it would be something shameful. Emasculating.

…Which is bullshit. He knows it's bullshit, because he's read about plenty of masculine men getting railed and not thought twice about it. It's just when he applies the concept to himself that things start to seem… unmanly.

He's well aware that his body has the capacity to enjoy... alternative methods of stimulation, but he's never tried to. He's never experimented with anything of the sort, due to the longstanding assumption that he'd always be having straight sex, and that even if he did like men, he'd be a top.

Now, he's not so sure.

He can easily imagine himself topping Minho. The karaoke session reaffirmed this a million times over, as he stared at Minho's thighs and femininely sensual movements, barely able to hide his attraction. Their height difference doesn't matter to him in the slightest – it might be a bit difficult to pin the older man down, but that's a fun struggle in itself.

But Minho topping him?

Well, in that dream that he had, it felt like things were going in that direction, and it hadn't been so bad. Additionally, Minho seems to have a thing for getting a reaction out of him, and there was that one time that he cornered Jisung against the kitchen island bench…

Jisung remembers Minho saying that he's fine with any position, and wonders if it's possible for him to be the same. It seems plausible, but to fully understand, Jisung needs to get over his hesitancy. Sure, bottoming may not end up being for him, but the mere concept of it shouldn't make him feel the way he does now. He has some mental blockades surrounding homosexuality that he evidently still needs to unpack.

Alright, he resolves, when I get the chance, I'll look more into it.

Later in the night, Jisung comes across a compilation video of Minho slapping Stray Kids member's asses, and he snorts at just how long it is. That's one aspect of his hyung that he'll never truly understand. He can appreciate a good ass slap every now and then, but this frequently? It's a bizarre obsession. Regardless, a good-natured smile tugs on Jisung's lips as he watches the various music show stages, livestream clips, interviews, and SKZ Code episodes pass by.

Once the video is over, his eyes flick down to read the top replies. Most of them are laughing over the ridiculousness of it all, but one catches his eye.

[If this is how he is in day-to-day life, imagine how he is in bed]

Jisung's face falls.

In some capacity, Jisung regrets introducing Hyunjin to anime fanfiction. Why? Well, Hyunjin is apparently just as susceptible to internet chasms as Jisung is, and has fallen into this one head first. He's been giving Jisung live commentary on what he's reading over text, which Jisung loves, but it's started to get in the way of his day-to-day life.

"Can you tell him to just… stop, for a bit?" Jeongin asks with a sigh, eyes trained on Jisung's incessantly buzzing phone. Jisung lowers the guitar in his hands, similarly staring at the device.

Hwang Hyunjin: OMFG THEY HELD HANDS JISVNH THEY HELD HANDS

Hwang Hyunjin: HE SMILED I CANT

Hwang Hyunjin: THIS IS CANON IDC

Jisung bites his lip, leg bouncing. They're in one of the small JYP vocal practice rooms, as the company recently approved duet performances and they've been considering what song to go ahead with. Upon entering Jisung had turned his phone to silent – culling most of the distraction – but 45 minutes in, Jeongin's patience is wearing thin. Hyunjin's name has been popping up every other second (which is bewildering, since he's supposed to be at a photoshoot), and gradually Jisung, too, has found himself getting tired.

Hwang Hyunjin: WAIT WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN

Hwang Hyunjin: HE APOLOGISED

Hwang Hyunjin: WHY IS HE APOLOGISING?!! KILLUA YOU HAVE NO REASON TO APOLOGISE

Jisung lowers his guitar to the ground and runs a hand through his hair.

"We've done most of what we planned to do," he says after a moment, "so maybe it's time for a break?"

Jeongin snorts, "You just want to go spy on Minho-hyung and Yongbok-hyung."

Jisung freezes, and he's glad that the guitar is already safely on the carpet, because otherwise he would have dropped it.

"What- How did you..?" He gapes, because he hadn't told Jeongin that. He hadn't told anyone that. Really, it goes against his code of not snooping, so he'd been somewhat in denial about it himself, too.

Jeongin's eyebrows raise, unamused, "You're not subtle. When we saw them in the hallway before it was written all over your face."

An icy chill spreads throughout Jisung's body.

… Does he know?!

Does he know that Minho and Felix are (still) spending a disproportionately large amount of time together?!

Does he know that Jisung has a crush on Minho and wants to make sure that he and Felix aren't, like, making out or something?!

"-But don't worry, hyung," Jeongin continues, expression softening, "I also want to know what song they've chosen."

Oh.

Right.

Jisung relaxes, exhaling in relief.

"Well," he says, going along with the younger man's narrative, "do you want to come with me?"

Jeongin thinks for a moment, before grinning and nodding his head. They swiftly pack up their belongings, turning off the light behind them and stepping out into the hallway.

Hwang Hyunjin: FUCK OFF HISOKA

Hwang Hyunjin: GET AWAY FROM MY CHILDREN

Hwang Hyunjin: THEY WERE HAVING A CUTE MOMENT AND YOU RUINED IT

Hwang Hyunjin: WDYM 'FIGHT ME'?!?! FUCK OFFFFFFF

Jisung pockets his phone.

Thankfully, when he peeks his head through the dance practice room door, Minho and Felix are not making out. Instead, they're chugging water from their drink bottles, panting and drenched in sweat. Jisung eyes them through their reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to appreciate how Minho's dampened shirt falls over the contours of his body.

Without warning, he feels Jeongin behind him, trying to peek into the room through the space above Jisung's head.

"Wait!" Jisung whispers, because all of his weight is now on one leg, and with Jeongin above him, it's already starting to ache.

"Can you tell what the song is?" Jeongin asks, but Jisung doesn't get a chance to respond because Minho's eyes have met his in the mirror and Oh no oh no he's slipping he's slip-

Jisung lets go of the door, tumbling forwards, and he and Jeongin crash painfully to the floor. The younger man's full weight ends up over Jisung's chest and he wheezes, desperately attempting to remove himself from the pile. (Distantly, he can hear Minho and Felix absolutely losing it at the spectacle). When Jeongin finally realises that Jisung is seconds away from dying he rolls off him, but the action presses down on Jisung's bones in the worst way possible and he yelps, eyes squeezing shut.

After a rough few seconds finally, finally Jisung is free, but he lets himself lie on the ground to catch his breath and attempt to ignore the embarrassment of getting caught.

He really needs to stop snooping, because he's starting to notice a pattern.

It isn't long before Minho comes over to stare down at him, hair falling to obscure some of his face but smile wide enough to make up for it.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He asks, to which Jisung opens his mouth, considers speaking, and then closes it. Minho kneels down next to him which causes his face to hover significantly closer, and Jisung's brain supplies him with the fact that this is probably how he would have looked if Jisung could see through his mask, back in the forest.

…Which is definitely not a thought that he should have had, because now he's looking at Minho's lips and gosh, they're good looking lips, aren't they? Plush, pink, overall incredibly kissable.

Which is also not a thought that he should have had, because now he wants to kiss Minho. He really, really wants to kiss Minho. He wants to reach out, grab Minho's shirt, and crash their lips together. He wants to disregard every line that currently exists in their relationship, and carelessly make out on the dance room floor.

Minho waves a hand in front of Jisung's eyes and he blinks back to reality, abruptly shifting to sit up. He knows that he's likely just humiliated himself even more, but the butterflies in his chest offset the pain enough for it to be bearable.

Minho, back on his feet, extends a hand to help Jisung up, but draws it away the second he goes to grab it.

Jisung whacks his leg.

It's Internalised homophobia.

At least, that's what Google says.

The reason that Jisung feels so weird about bottoming. The reason that he periodically feels guilty and gross about normal things. The reason that liking men in general was such a painful process of realisation.

Somewhere in his subconsciousness, there's a part of him being homophobic towards himself, which really sucks, because now he needs to go through the arduous process of transforming that homophobia into... homo-acceptance, or something like that. Life truly is just hurdle after hurdle.

Jisung has always been one to run away from his problems because he is, well, a coward, but this issue feels too pressing to ignore. How can he comfortably like Minho when he can't even comfortably reckon with liking men? When his brain tells him that bottoming would be 'emasculating'?

("Jisung-ah… You know that you're allowed to feel this way, right? You're allowed to have thoughts about other men.")

Jisung appreciates Changbin for saying this. He truly does. It's one of the most meaningful, impactful things that anyone has ever said to him, and has helped him in so many ways already.

Unfortunately, it's just not as simple as Jisung suddenly being completely okay with it all.

He needs to force himself to reckon with it.

…Which is why he's found himself nervously getting into the shower, lubricant in hand, heart rate significantly faster than it probably should be.

Minho won't be getting back to the dorm any time soon. Jisung had called to make sure of this, and has additional text confirmation to let him know that the evening is free for him to do whatever he wants, without fear of being discovered or exposed.

He's going to give bottoming a shot.

Well, alternative methods of stimulation, which sounds just as unprofessional and unscientific as what the actual process will be like. He knows how it's supposed to work, and he's done his research, but it's fear-inducing because he also knows how it could go wrong.

Come on… if Minho hyung can do this, so can I.

Jisung was initially considering playing music to set the mood, but he figured he couldn't rule out Hyunjin randomly messaging him, so his phone currently sits on the couch in the living area.

Jisung takes a deep breath.

At first, the shower water is too cold. Then it's too hot. By the time it's at a perfect midpoint, Jisung is already starting to regret his decision.

… But he gives it a shot regardless, and overall, it's not bad.

It's awkward, at first. Incredibly so, and also uncomfortable. His arm quickly starts hurting from its haphazard position, and it takes him so long to get anywhere that he genuinely wonders if he'd been born with a rare genetic mutation that got rid of the potential from his body.

But no, he thankfully manages to figure it out, and from there things go up. It's definitely not the worst thing he's ever done, though casting his thoughts into a realm of imagination helps to curb the awkwardness a significant amount. 

So… Yeah. Overall, it isn't bad.

A solid 7/10.

If Minho was actually there participating, it would likely be closer to a 9 or 10 out of 10, which Jisung considers to be a win. The whole point of this was to step out of his comfort zone, and he genuinely feels that some of his inhibition towards bottoming has dissipated. Like, he gets it now. He understands why people do it, and can envision himself doing it again in the future.

Preferably with Minho.

The only aspect (beyond the initial discomfort) that he finds miserable is the trouble he has sitting down afterwards. Even on the soft couch cushions his muscles ache, so he resolves to consider it in the same way that he considers post-workout sensitivity: An unfortunate inevitability.

Sighing and checking his phone, Jisung finds 23 new unread messages from Hyunjin.

"Hyung," Jisung says.

 Minho doesn't look up from his phone. Doesn't acknowledge him at all, actually.

 "Hyung," Jisung says again, leaning back against his car seat with his head turned to the left, staring directly at the older man.

 Still, there is no response.

 "Hyung!" Jisung says, louder. They're the only two in the car aside from the manager, and Minho isn't wearing headphones, so there's no question of if the older man can hear him.

 Still, he ignores Jisung's existence.

 "Hyung~" Jisung whines, eyebrows curving up in exasperation, but Minho is as ice cold as ever.

 Fine. Two can play at this game.

 "Alright then," Jisung grumbles, shifting to face his window, "I won't tell you about my new tattoo idea."

 "Huh?!" Minho's head snaps to look at him, eyes wide in the reflection on the car window. Jisung forces himself to have a straight face, swallowing down a giggle.

 It's a complete lie – he has no tattoo plans that the older man doesn't already know about. He's improvising because their last conversation was five whole minutes ago, and Jisung will die if he doesn't get more attention.

Minho's phone sits discarded on his lap as his eyes bore into Jisung's reflection.

 "Tell me," he says after a beat of silence, but Jisung shakes his head.

"You missed your chance."

Minho reaches to tightly grip Jisung's shoulder, shifting his gaze to look at Jisung directly. Jisung's chest swarms with a humoured giddiness – Minho fell directly into his trap.

"Come on, Jisung-ah. You know you want to tell me."

Jisung bites his cheek, shaking his head again.

Minho's fingers dig into his shoulder like a warning. Jisung, in one swift movement, swivels his head to meet Minho's eyes, still desperately attempting to keep his expression neutral.

"It's too embarrassing to talk about anyway," he says, "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Minho's brows furrow slightly, "What's embarrassing?"

Jisung subtly pouts, slumping his shoulders for added effect.

"The placement."

If Jisung could immortalise moments in time, he'd capture the second that Minho's expression changes – eyebrows raising and lips parting, a dumbfounded tone encapsulated within his features. When he speaks, his voice is slightly strained.

"Where?"

Jisung has to close his eyes to stop himself from reacting. He shakes his head again, and Minho lets go of his shoulder to grab his hand.

"Jagiya," he says, "Where?"

Jisung slowly opens his eyes, but realises belatedly that a smile is pulling on his lips. He gets rid of it immediately, but it's far too late. Minho has already seen it, and when he speaks again, his tone is dangerous.

"Jagiya. What was that?"

Jisung is going to die. Minho is going to kill him.

Thankfully, in a bizarre twist of fate, the radio saves Jisung's life.

"-- Dispatch set to reveal a new actor-singer couple at the end of October--"

The announcer speaks robotically but both Jisung and Minho turn to stare at the radio, a brief silence hanging in the air.

Jisung, quickly uncomfortable, goes to speak up, but Minho's expression stops him in his tracks – a far cry from the teasing anger it was moments before. His face has fallen into a slate that most would consider to be emotionless, but Jisung can see right though. Instead of neutrality, he's… concerned.

Why is he concerned?

Well, there's the obvious fact that they're both idols, and exposed relationships can easily break careers, but Minho isn't in a relationship, is he?

…Is he?!

No, he can't be, because he would have told Jisung. They had that talk a while back about relationships and he said he wasn't in one. There's no way he could have gone behind Jisung's back and started dating an actor, right? RIGHT?!

"Hah," Jisung awkwardly says, and Minho visibly snaps back to reality, "You're not secretly in a relationship with an actor are you, hyung?"

He tries to make it sound like a joke, but it falls flat.

"What? No," Minho responds, but his lips purse and he shifts to stare at the back of the seat in front of him. Something really must be on his mind.

"…Well" Jisung says after a tense moment, "Then there's no need to worry. This is a hurdle we'll face in due time. When we… When we both get into relationships eventually, I'm sure we'll be well equipped to hide things."

 God it hurts to talk about him and Minho getting into relationships with other people.

It takes a second, but Minho slowly nods, and when he speaks his voice is quiet.

"You're right."

…And god, that may just hurt even more.

Jisung has come to the conclusion that, (hypothetically speaking), Minho could hypothetically do just about anything to him, and he'd hypothetically like it. Obviously this excludes anything extreme or illegal, though Jisung would be lying if he said that the idea of Minho whispering morally dubious things into his ears is wholly unappealing.

It's a topic he's been thinking about a lot, in light of his sexual discovery phase. It's almost as though he's been crossing off a mental checklist of everything he'd avoided due to denial, which he can now indulge in freely. He'd unknowingly skipped over years of pining, which he's now making up for as much as possible. Really, his internalised homophobia has met its match.

And, look. Does it also make him somewhat of a degenerate? Yes, but he doesn't care. It's Minho that he's thinking about – Mr Butt-Chest-Bicep Hunter himself! He's willing to imagine things that are somewhat uncouth.

… Which is particularly evident in the darkness of his bedroom, as he looks at the bright screen of his phone, E-rated Lee Know x Han fanfiction staring back at him.

This is somewhat akin to his final hurdle. Even getting to this point was a wearying process, because he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for.

Regardless, he's settled on a 1.1k word rock band AU – a concept that he can immediately get behind, and a story length that he can exit out of without feeling guilty. Additionally, his tattoos are listed in the tags, which, thanks to his conversation with Minho, drew him in more than he'd like to admit.

After making sure the bedsheets are comfortably situated, he dives right in.

-

[Minho POV]

Cheers echo from the venue's crowd, a stimulatingly chaotic mess of alcohol, sweat, and bodies jumping in time with the beat. Booming speakers ensure that the rock band's music pierces through the walls around them, energising the night air with addictive riffs and catchy choruses.

Jisung stands centre stage, electric guitar solo flowing from his fingers as the audience stares in awe, bright spotlight casting him in an angelic glow.

A little further back stands the other members: Hyunjin on bass, Changbin on kit, and Chan on rhythm guitar and vocals like Jisung himself – but this moment is Jisung's, and Jisung's alone.

Minho watches the show from backstage. It's being broadcast online with high quality cameras – testament to the band's growing success, but the vibrations rocking through the space around him are more than enough to convey a similar idea.

It's the last stop of TWILIGHT's tour, so excitement is high and professionalism is at an all-time low.

... Not that they were very professional to begin with.

The solo ends, but rather than getting straight back into the chorus, Hyunjin walks forward, deep, fast-paced bass guitar notes forming a sudden sense of anticipation. Changbin accompanies it with steady beats on the kick drum.

Jisung casts a wide glance around the venue, smiling cockily while running a hand through his wavy, mid-length hair. Then, he puts his guitar to the side and gets a firm grip on his shirt, fiercely tearing the remaining buttons open to reveal his toned, tattooed chest.

Shouts of shock and excitement ring out from the crowd and Minho, alone in Jisung's private waiting room, lets his jaw slacken at the sight.

As tension continues to build, the audience begins to clap in time with the music, Chan and Changbin joining in to further rile things up.

Jisung walks confidently to the edge of the stage, and down the stairs into the strip that separates the band from the audience. Reaching politely out, he takes the hand of a fan (decked out completely in his merchandise), and leads her away from the suffocating mess of bodies, up onto the stage with him.

Minho tenses.

Away from the microphone, Jisung leans to speak into her ear, and she nods fervently in response.

Jisung grins.

The clapping grows louder and louder, and Minho's breath gets stuck in his throat, heartbeat racing.

Just what is he planning?

Putting on a show as always, Jisung dramatically reaches out to hold the back of the fan's neck, fingers firm, but his eyes dart away from her to find the livestream camera.

It's as though he's staring at Minho directly, because he knows that the older man is watching. He knows that Minho's on the edge of his seat, and Minho can almost hear the younger man's voice in his head, tauntingly saying 'don't look away, hyung'.

Minho swallows.

Jisung kisses the fan.

The crowd goes wild.

-

Jisung's eyes widen, and he takes a moment to look away from his phone. His stomach flips with a sense of disbelief and anticipation, as he finds himself comparing the story to his own life. Of course, as an idol, he can never do something as reckless and wild as that. It puts into perspective just how restricted Stray Kids can be at times – not that he wants to kiss the fans, but they can barely even swear in songs, let alone entertain the idea of interacting with the crowd beyond the stage barrier.

On top of this, from a narrative standpoint, Jisung assumes that fictional he and Minho are already a thing – since Minho is in his waiting room. So the fact that he kissed a fan while looking into the camera…

-

[Jisung POV]

The dregs of Jisung's shirt are ripped from his body the moment he stumbles into the waiting room, back hitting the door as Minho cages him in between his arms. High on adrenaline, Jisung's body buzzes with sensitivity and he gasps as Minho harshly kisses his neck, his shoulder, his collar. He's sweaty and disheveled from the show, but his hands tangle roughly into Minho's hair regardless, head falling back and eyelids fluttering shut to immerse himself in the sensation.

"Knew you'd be like this," he teasingly breathes after one of Minho's hands comes to settle on his waist, holding it firmly in place against the door.

"Yeah?" Minho asks into his skin, and Jisung nods.

"You're like an animal… unreasonable, insatiable- Ah!"

Minho's thumb digs into a fresh tattoo on his hip, sharp pain intertwining with a pleasure that electrifies Jisung's body.

-

Jisung winces, reminiscing the pain of a healing tattoo. It definitely isn't a sexy sensation, and if this story was being realistic, fictional Jisung would likely yelp and flinch away, whacking the older man for even daring to mess with his tattoo in the first place. With that being said, Jisung can't say he's ever considered connecting that sensitivity to any kind of… sensual situation, so who knows? Maybe it wouldn't be terrible, provided the pain doesn't overwhelm the other sensations.

Jisung reflects on how Minho behaves whenever he gets new tattoos – the intensity with which he stares at them, the mildly sadistic grin he flashes whenever he "accidentally" prods them. 

Jisung's throat starts to feel dry.

-

He's suddenly aware of just how restrictive his clothes are, how hot his skin feels. With a burst of strength he detangles his hands from Minho's hair, pushing away from the door to send them both stumbling further into the room.

There's a small leather couch against one of the walls and Jisung backs Minho onto it, falling down together. Wasting no time, Jisung peels Minho's shirt off and throws it somewhere out of sight. Then, he gets to work returning Minho's favour, putting all of his stage-cultivated energy towards marking the older man's skin in a manner that won't fade for hours and hours to come. A distant voice in his mind wants to carve himself into Minho's skin, prove to him just how deeply entrenched he is in Jisung's heart.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" Minho knowingly accuses after a moment, "Staring into the camera like that."

Jisung hums in response, but doesn't say anything. This evidently isn't enough for the older man, because he shifts to press his tense thigh up against Jisung's crotch, guiding Jisung's hips down at the same time to create such a suddenly intense pressure that Jisung's breath is snatched from his throat, jaw dropping open and head lolling to lie against Minho's shoulder.

-

In real life, Jisung's heart threatens to burst through his chest.

On a completely unrelated note, the bedsheets around him have started to feel overwhelmingly stuffy, so without looking away from his phone, he strips them off.

-

"What was that?" Minho playfully asks, but his voice is strained enough to betray how much this affects him too.

Jisung has half a mind to go along with it, to answer honestly, but a bigger part of him wants to be stubborn. Wants to see what Minho will do.

He bites his tongue, a dangerous silence filling the space between them. A few tense seconds pass before Minho quirks an eyebrow, and huffs humouredly.

"You had so much to say before," he comments lowly, breath fanning over Jisung's ear. Then, his fingers move to brush lightly over Jisung's tattoo, and Jisung can only barely swallow back a pathetic sound, "What happened?"

Without warning, the perfectly overwhelming pressure returns, this time accompanied by a sharp intertwining pain that has Jisung crying out, fumbling to clutch onto Minho's shoulders as his chest rapidly rises and falls. Sweat trickles down the back of his neck and a string of pathetic noises fall from his lips as Minho continues to move his body, waves of dizzying pleasure wracking through him.

"Wanted-," Jisung eventually pants, mind barely able to string together a coherent sentence, "Wanted this."

Minho lets out a shuddering breath, slowing down to tangle one hand in Jisung's hair, pulling his head back to meet his glazed-over eyes.

"Yeah?" He breathes, and Jisung nods. "Just this?"

That painfully teasing lilt has returned, and he slightly shifts his leg, making it clear what he's referring to.

Jisung swallows before slowly shaking his head, and the corner of Minho's lip twitches up.

"Then what do you really want?"

The rough edge to his voice sends another wash of head-spinning arousal through Jisung's body. Despite this, he raises his eyebrows – a hint of defiance and the hint of a challenge, matching Minho's energy.

"I want you to..."

-

Jisung realises with a start that he's reached the end of the chapter. It's an odd spot for the author to split the scene in two, but who's he to police how people publish their fiction? So, without wasting any time, he scrolls to click the 'next chapter' button and finds… nothing.

There is no next chapter.

This is where the fanfiction ends.

…?!

What the hell?!

Jisung is sitting here sweaty and invested, and that's where it ends?! Neither of their fictional selves got anywhere! They didn't even kiss on the lips!

Jisung slumps back fully into his bedsheets, eyes staring blankly into the ceiling. The scenes, as short as they were, flash back through his mind, and he's once again struck by how different idol life is. He will never have a fully private waiting room, so waiting room sex is off the cards. Though, there are storage rooms...

Jisung imagines jogging backstage after a performance, sweat dripping down his body and limbs aching. He imagines Minho there with him, arm slung over his shoulder, grinning as they both celebrate a successful showcase.

Then, he imagines Minho taking hold of his arm, dragging him quickly down the hallway and away from their staff setup, grip firm and skin warm.

In this fictional scenario, logic doesn't matter. Management doesn't matter. All that takes priority is the post-performance rush of adrenaline coursing through their veins.

Minho pulls Jisung into one of the empty rooms used for storing large objects. It conveniently locks shut behind them, and there's a conveniently placed couch in one of the corners.

Minho falls back lengthways onto the couch, shoulders against the armrest, and Jisung gets on top of him. They make out for a while, until impatience takes over and Minho shoves a hand down the back of Jisung's pants. It's quick work for them to shift positions, Jisung bent over one of the available surfaces.

In real life, Jisung gives into the temptation to indulge in the fantasy, remembering how things had been in the shower. Afterwards, he lets himself lie back and relax, albeit still irritated by the fanfiction's ending. Just how sadistic of a person do you need to be to create a cliffhanger in an E-Rated story?!

The SKZ Family special episodes are released in three total parts over three days. As eager as Jisung is to watch them, he decisively waits until all of them are out, because binge-watch potential matters more to him than anything else. Besides, he was there, so it's not as if he'll be missing out on too much by ignoring it for a few days.

Well, the few days pass, and it's Wednesday afternoon when he sits back on the dorm's couch, popcorn in hand, ready to get started.

"Come on, hyung!" He calls, because Minho has been taking forever to get ready. When Jisung had initially asked to watch it together, Minho had refused, but big eyes and a pitiful tone of voice easily changed his mind. Now, though, he seems to be dragging things out as much as possible, while Jisung really just wants to press play already.

At last, after what feels like fifty thousand years, Minho falls next to Jisung, and their knees click together like magnets. Jisung considers slinging an arm around Minho's shoulder but decides against it, as the popcorn sits on Minho's lap now, and he doesn't want to stretch to reach it.

The first special episode covers everything from their fake arrival at the house to the end of their morning SKZ Family shenanigans, and gosh Jisung can't take his eyes off Minho. In hindsight, he can recognise that every odd feeling he'd had towards the man during filming was, in fact, a result of his desperate attraction and repressed feelings, and thus it is fairly embarrassing to watch himself stuttering and fumbling his way through every interaction. The video itself, however, is very fun, and Jisung can't help but exclaim out loud when Seungmin wins rock, paper, scissors. Jisung himself may have lost, but he can't deny the sheer aura that emanated from the other man when he delivered his killing line.

The second special episode covers the first half of the treasure hunt, and this is what Jisung had been looking forward to. It's hilarious witnessing the other members running around, desperately seeking their coloured ribbons. When Minho gets tangled in a tree Jisung bursts out laughing, and current Minho covers his face, ears tinting red. Other notable occurrences include the whole Seungmin-stealing-other-people's-ribbons kerfuffle, Changbin and Chan borderline wrestling each other over a tree that holds both of their ribbons, Hyunjin getting lost and circling back to the same rock four times, and Jisung himself making it back to the tents to secure first place.

What's odd, Jisung notices, is that Minho comes second.

He pauses the video briefly, turning to face the older man.

"They didn't show the scene," he says, and it's obvious which he's referring to.

Minho shrugs, "Maybe it wasn't a good shot."

His tone isn't overly confident, and Jisung has half a mind to prod further, but ultimately decides against it. What's in the past is in the past, and really, Jisung should be thankful that it isn't there. He'd actually hesitated when initially asking Minho to watch with him, as he wasn't sure how he'd react to witnessing the whole kind-of-but-not-really kiss situation play out. So he should be thankful.

Jisung shrugs and hits play. 

The episode ends with Jeongin and Felix racing each other to the finish line, having both found the last of their ribbons. The editors do what editors do, though, and leave it as a cliffhanger. Jisung can't remember who wins out of the two, so he denies Minho's request to get a glass of water in favour of clicking play on the next episode.

Jeongin wins by a 10 second lead, and both men drop to the ground after they've crossed the finish line, panting. The rest of the treasure hunt plays out with a bit more seriousness, as the rest of the members (Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin) search for their remaining few ribbons. At some point Seungmin runs into Changbin, and upon realising that Seungmin has some of his ribbons, Changbin confronts him loudly enough that Hyunjin makes his way over too. Changbin ends up finding all of his ribbons while Hyunjin is stuck with one missing, and Seungmin doesn't care for his own. The two wander around together, taking in the scenery and practically giving up on the game, until in a twist of fate Hyunjin spots his last one, and makes a mad dash for the finish line. Ignoring the general redundancy of such effort, he makes it with 39 seconds to spare, while Seungmin comes dead last.

The episode continues into the evening, with their dorm-decider game showcasing one final burst of competitive energy. When the cameras show Jisung and Minho pairing up for the night, Jisung's heart twinges at the ashen expression that Minho's face shows. Obviously they'd managed to resolve it, but gosh that was a painful point in time.

The episode finishes, and Jisung turns his head to find Minho already staring at him. The older man startles at being caught, quickly looking away, and Jisung's heart floods with warmth, affection bursting at the seams. A part of him wants to reach out and poke Minho's cheek, so he does.

Minho, clearly not expecting it, belatedly flinches away, and Jisung laughs, the sound ringing out into the space around them. As a form of apology he lies into Minho’s side, burying his face in the other man's shoulder. At this Minho relaxes, letting out a long breath. His skin is warm through his clothes, and the gradual rising and falling of his chest soothes Jisung on an innate level. 

Right now, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

It's all Changbin's fault, really.

He's the reason that Jisung is sitting here in his bedroom, opening up a word document to have a go at something he'd never before considered attempting. Something that would be unfathomable two months prior, back when he didn't even know the joys of reading fanfiction.

Because that's what he's doing.

At least, kind of.

Instead of reading fanfiction he's started writing it, which is arguably a whole lot worse.

But it's Changbin's fault, because he put the idea into Jisung's head.

It was when they were at the gym, working out alongside one another, that the topic of conversation shifted to a certain hyung. They were the only people present in the gym at the time so Jisung wasn't worried about being overheard, and he used the opportunity to update Changbin on the state of his love life.

"So you haven't confessed to him yet," Changbin had said, with an unimpressed tint to his voice, and Jisung had scoffed in disbelief.

"What do you mean I haven't- Why would I?! There's no point!"

"You spend all day reading about it, so why not give it a go?!" Changbin shot back, "The worst that can happen is you get rejected!"

"Yeah, exactly!" Jisung had exclaimed, "I'm actually quite happy living in an idealistic fantasy at the moment! Telling him would ruin it!"

Changbin had shaken his head and lowered his weights to the ground, clapping his hands against his thighs.

"Surely you'll run out of things to read soon. There can't be that much out there."

"Well…" Jisung had trailed off, because Changbin had a point. In terms of Korean Lee Know x Han fanfiction, he's kind of seen it all. Their pairing isn't as popular as it is overseas, so the list of decent-length fanfics – or at least good decent-length fanfics- has been dwindling recently.

Changbin had huffed, walking over to another machine.

"I swear, you're going to start writing your own ones soon."

Jisung had laughed, but it was a vague and distracted sound because holy shit, he could write his own fanfiction if he wanted to.

"What do you even think I'd write about?" He'd asked, but had purposefully used a humoured tone to make it seem as though he was joking.

Changbin had thought for a moment, and then snorted.

"Something emotional," he'd said, "Like your songs. Maybe where you're, like, a poet, or something, while Minho is a noble and it's the Joseon dynasty so you can't be together."

Jisung's jaw had dropped, mind blown by the genius idea, but he'd closed it before Changbin could notice.

"Ah hyung," he'd then said, "You know me too well. But no, I won't be writing my own fanfiction. I write songs for a reason – I can't commit to anything longer than four minutes."

Changbin had chuckled, and then the day had gone on, completely uneventful, aside from the fact that Jisung's brain had been horrifically infested with an urge to write that exact story plot.

Which is why he finds himself hunched over his computer, late at night, writing (or rather, outlining) a fanfiction when he should be sleeping. A fanfiction about him and Minho as a poet and a noble in the Joseon dynasty.

It's an odd circumstance.

It's also a dangerous game.

Minho can be heard showering in the other room, absent-mindedly humming the melody of Jisung's own handcrafted song, twilight. It’s incredibly distracting, but Jisung's attempts to ignore it are weak-willed. Sue him for enjoying the soft, pleasant sound of his best friend's voice in the tune of a song that he spent countless hours creating.

Because that's what they are; best friends. Even if Jisung's word document currently says otherwise. In some ways, he uses Minho's humming to drown out the reality that he's reached a truly pathetic level of pining.

If the Han Jisung from two months ago was to see him right now, he'd surely draw back in distaste, wondering why on Earth he's considering the other member in a non-platonic manner to begin with.

But times have changed, and Jisung has grown as a person.

Stretching out his arms and cracking his neck, Jisung skims over his outline. It's not complete in the slightest, but it's definitely a start, and he's basically ready to move on to more in-depth fleshing out of the early scenes.

...But, before any of that, he needs to do some serious research into the Joseon dynasty.

Chapter Text

Hyunjin has officially left the metaphorical fanfiction birds nest – branching out to find stories on his own, as documented through a series of screenshot messages that Jisung cracks up laughing over whenever they float back into the forefront of his mind. This includes (but is not limited to): Hyunjin discovering the Omegaverse, explicit x reader fanfiction, Stockholm syndrome AUs, and Mpreg. Jisung went through his own emotional arc when first encountering such tropes, but the knowledge is being put to good use now that he can hold it over Hyunjin's head.

On the other side of the coin, Jisung's big mouth refused to keep a secret for longer than a week, so Hyunjin is now fully aware of (and thankfully fully supportive of) Jisung's fanfic writing endeavours. He'd sworn on his oil paints to keep it from Changbin, which was punctuated by a dramatic shaking of hands, and Jisung staring into his eyes with as much pointed intensity as he could muster.

"And you promise to remove any related content from your camera roll?" Jisung had asked, and Hyunjin had firmly nodded.

"Don't worry, I've learnt from last time. Your story stays between us."

Jisung had then patted him on the shoulder, adorning the manner of a rich CEO sending off a business partner. On his lips, a playful smile tugged.

"Then I look forward to working with you, Hyunjin-ssi."

As for the state of Jisung's fanfiction… well… it's definitely a work in progress. Thanks to the historical time period in which the story is set, he's had to pick up a few books (and Wikipedia articles) to inform his opinion on how the predetermined roles of 'noble' and 'poet' should meet and fall in love.

He's also gone back to watching dramas.

Lots, and lots of historical dramas.

Too many, perhaps, because Minho starts to take notice on the third one, and starts up a tally by the seventh. Jisung was originally going to come up with an excuse, but finds Minho's confusion far more entertaining.

The currently outlined plot of Jisung's fanfiction goes as such (and buckle up, because it's hefty):

Jisung, the protagonist, is raised in one of the lowest social classes that existed at the time (Joseon dynasty, 1400s), and steals scrolls as a child due to his fascination with them. Upon witnessing this, an old man in town teaches him how to read and write, and he quickly develops a passion for poetry. One day during his teenage years, a group of scholars pass by his town – upper class in both blood and attitude. They notice his poetry and scrutinise it, but laugh at the suggestion that it could take him anywhere in life. One of the scholars is particularly cruel, and will go on to become an established villain within the story.

Despite the disheartening encounter, the next day a scholar returns – one who hadn't spoken up previously. He's somewhat eccentric but clearly has a level of influence, and gives Jisung a life changing offer. If he is willing to shed his identity as a commoner while away, the scholar can secure him a spot in a seowon institution, allowing him to learn alongside like-minded individuals. Jisung, eager to follow his passions and earn money for his lower class family, agrees.

Despite his eagerness to get formal education, Jisung is not a fan of nobles or the upper class. Rather, he is painfully aware of the systemic issues that exist and harm his loved ones on a daily basis. Thus, he hopes that by becoming a recognised poet, he can use his influence for the better.

Jisung joins the seowon institution, and there he meets Chan and Seungmin, who defy the stereotype of ‘narcissistic upper class asshole’, and quickly become Jisung's friends. Through the rest of his teenage years, Jisung excels in the path towards becoming a scholar. At first he finds it difficult to fit in, but he's good with adapting to new situations, and quickly blends into the upper-class crowd.

While scholars were not strictly tied to the government at that time, in the fanfiction Jisung, a highly accomplished 20 year old, is put forth alongside Chan to represent their institution in a government exam. Those who pass will gradually be able to secure positions of power, and Jisung, ever motivated, knows that this is what he needs to do.

The night before the exam, Jisung wanders the streets near his residence, staring up at the stars and going over information in his mind. The night isn't quiet – quite the opposite, actually, as festival lanterns are out, and crowds swarm near the town centre. Without warning, a figure comes running around where Jisung stands, and upon seeing him, pulls him by the wrist around a corner, crouching down in his shadow to hide from view. Soon, two royal guards run past, but disappear into the distance, clueless. The mysterious man stands up and pulls down his mask, revealing a gorgeous face (it's Minho). Minho smiles, thanks him, and then runs back off, in the direction from which he came. Before bed, Jisung writes a poem about him.

During the exam Jisung sees Minho again, but rather than showing a charming smile, he sits, stone faced, looking down from a balcony. His older brother, the current ruler of the country, sits nearby, and Jisung is suddenly struck with the realisation that Minho is a noble. Disdain bubbles up in his chest. The current ruler is known for being cruel and cold-hearted, so Minho must be the same. At one point during the exam they lock gazes, and Jisung thinks he sees the older man's face flashing recognition.

The final question of the exam is open-ended, and completely detached from the content the scholars have spent time studying. Jisung, bitter about Minho's noble heritage, writes a poem about birds with blood on their beaks, flying high above an earth littered with carcases.

That night, while staying in his temporary residence near the exam location, Jisung gets a knock on his door. Two royal guards greet him, and bring him to Minho's royal quarters. In Minho's hand is his exam, and Jisung's disdain returns in full force.

Minho tells Jisung that he's failed the exam, though Jisung questions him because he's not one of the examiners. Minho then points out Jisung's poem, explaining that it won't go down well in the assessment process, and rather than securing a government position, Jisung will likely be thrown in jail. Jisung questions if there's a way to avoid such fate, and Minho says that there is, before sending his guards off the premises.

Minho says that if Jisung agrees to work for him, he’ll use his influence to stop any punishments that come his way – though he refuses to outline what the work will entail. Jisung, still wary of the older man, denies his offer with the hopes that everything will turn out alright.

Things do not turn out alright. Jisung winds up in a jail cell 24 hours later, though the proceedings are rather calm as they knock on his door and he goes with them willingly. It's a cold, damp, dark space that he gets thrown into, and he quickly regrets his decision.

Minho comes to visit, and presents him with the offer once more. Jisung, still stubbornly unwilling to comply with the will of a noble like Minho, declines again. Chan also comes to visit, and presents him with the news that he was accepted into one of the advisory court positions. It’s only after a few days have passed that Jisung realises the severity of his predicament, and finally agrees with Minho’s proposal.

After signing the official documents to accept the job, Minho then takes Jisung to a secluded area of the royal grounds, and reveals the truth behind his intentions. As it turns out, Minho despises his older brother’s ways, and aims to remove his position on the throne. Jisung will be an insider force, acting as Minho’s advisor while secretly aiding him. When Jisung asks if Minho will take over the position as ruler, he looks apprehensive, but says that he “suppose[s] it must be that way”.

Minho then reveals that ever since he was a child, he would sneak out into the streets of the kingdom, eager to escape the suffocating lifestyle as a noble under his brother’s rule. He says that he knows it’s a juvenile act, but finds it brings a spark of well-needed chaos into his life. Jisung realises that this is what he was doing, the first time they met.

Inspired by this vulnerability, Jisung then reveals his own background to Minho, explaining that he is not from an upper-class family, but rather hopes to represent the less fortunate and bring change to the country at large.

Jisung is given a residence nearby, and finds inspiration to write poetry. In his new position, he’s able to witness the scholars being consulted during official proceedings, and Chan quickly gaining recognition. When they meet for the first time after Jisung’s jail predicament, they discuss the state of the court, and Jisung knows that whatever happens, Chan will make the right decisions. So as to not raise suspicion, Minho decides that Jisung should spend time convincing the other officials that he is fit within the advisory role.

After some time has passed, Minho needs to travel across the country to attend to business that his brother is unable to. Over the days and nights that they (alongside a group of guards) travel, Minho and Jisung develop a bond like no other. They learn about their similarities and differences, and Minho’s proficiency at fighting is demonstrated when their group is attacked by a group of bandits. Late at night, around their own private campfire, Jisung shares his passion for poetry. He says some aloud, and Minho, entranced, says that when they return to the kingdom, he’ll help him publish his works professionally. Additionally, Jisung teaches Minho about how commoners plant and hunt – though he admits he's bad at cooking. Minho simply laughs, and says that if they ever plant a garden together, he can be the one to cook, as it is a passion of his.

At one point in the trip, Jisung gets injured, and the two share moments of vulnerability, and it becomes evident that their bond is developing beyond a platonic friendship. Jisung writes a lovestruck poem and hides it. The rest of the trip passes peacefully, and once Jisung has healed, Minho teaches him how to fight.

After arriving at their destination, a few weeks pass, and Minho attends to his business. One afternoon, however, he receives a letter that chills him to his very core.

He’s set to get married to the daughter of his brother’s biggest ally, pinning him down under more eyes, and halting his ability to organise any acts of rebellion. His brother must have suspected something, and now he’s one step ahead. Minho scrunches up the letter, and throws it into the dirt.

That night, he brings Jisung to a lake under the moonlight, and breaks the news to him. Jisung is saddened by the proposal, but understands that what Minho needs now is not sympathy. He encourages the older man not to give up, and says that they still have time to formulate and execute a plan. He provides some on-the-spot ideas, and one of them catches Minho’s attention. Together, they develop it into something feasible.

When they return to the kingdom, they put the plan into action. All seems to go well, but fate has an unfortunate twist when Hyunjin (a royal chef Jisung had befriended early into his role as an advisor) betrays them, and their plans are exposed to Minho’s brother.

They realise that if they do not escape the kingdom, they will be killed by nightfall. It's a dreary, rainy day, and they flee the castle together, but are blocked by a swarm of guards. Desperately fighting together, they try to find a way out, but there are simply too many people.

Without warning, Chan appears with allies of his own, who fight off the guards and allow Minho and Jisung to get away. Chan brings them to a secret escape route, but cannot go with them. A horse and cart awaits them on the other side, with a driver that can take them to the next town over.

Once they’re on the road, soaked and exhausted, Jisung realises that Minho is bleeding profusely from a wound on his side, but the next town is still far away. Voice broken, Minho thanks Jisung for everything that he has done for him, and Jisung cannot restrain the tears that fall from his eyes. Cradling Minho’s body, Jisung says aloud the poem that he wrote, confessing his love and crying that Minho cannot leave him. Cannot die now – not before he’s had a chance to see the downfall of his brother, and the flourishing of his kingdom.

Using the last of his strength, Minho kisses Jisung, and wipes away his tears with a bloodied hand. “If I am to die, it will at least be in your arms,” he says, before his eyelids flutter shut, and he falls limp.

Once they’ve arrived at the neighbouring town, Jisung cries out to see if anyone can help them. As it turns out, this is Seungmin’s town of residence, and his grandmother (whom Jisung meets during his years at the seowon institution), takes them in, tending to Minho’s wounds.

This is about where Jisung has gotten up to, though he's stuck on how to finish things off. He'd originally meant for their plan to succeed and for Minho to become king, but Hyunjin (upon reading through his word document), had pointed out that it was too easy, and that they needed one last hurdle to make the success feel sweeter. Hyunjin had also complained about his character betraying the protagonists, but Jisung had pointedly tapped his phone, and he'd begrudgingly closed his mouth. Jisung does have vague plans to give fictional Hyunjin a redemption arc, but that's for his future self to deal with.

"Are you going to publish it online?" Hyunjin asks over the phone one evening, to which Jisung hums in denial.

"Too dangerous."

On the other end, Hyunjin scoffs, "What do you mean, "too dangerous"? You could publish it under your actual name and no one would blink an eye. Honestly, your name is probably already taken."

Jisung pauses in his pacing of the studio, and wearily rubs a hand over his face. Chan and Changbin have already retired for the evening, and Jisung was on the verge of doing so himself when Hyunjin had called.

"I mean, I'm also just not a great author," he says, leaning back into the wall, "I'm used to writing lyrics, not this."

"Bullshit," is Hyunjin's immediate response, "It's a masterpiece already. I can say with one hundred percent certainty that other people will like it."

Jisung isn't sure if he believes that, but he bites the inside of his cheek, considering for a moment.

Publishing it…Just what would that look like?

Probably not a lot. He'd have maybe one or two dedicated readers, and then would wind up with a far-too-lengthy story just… sitting there on the internet forever more.

"Look," he says, moving to pick up his pen, tap it on the desk a few times, and then put it back down, "I'll think about it, okay?"

When Jisung wakes up to a stuffy nose, sticky skin, swollen eyes, weak limbs, and a scratchy throat, he sighs loudly, coughs, and then curses the universe.

Minho, as always, is already up and ready to head to dance practice, but falters when his eyes lay on the pathetic state that the younger man is in, shuffling out of his room. Jisung knows without a shadow of a doubt that he looks like a mess, but forces himself to pull on his shoes, determined to push through and tackle the day like he normally would. He can't let the group down.

Minho has other ideas.

One second Jisung is kneeling down, tightening the laces of his left sneaker, and the next he's in the air, swept up dizzyingly into the older man's arms. His grip is tight, and the world seems to tilt and sway as he walks Jisung over to the lounge area.

"Hyung-" Jisung starts to say, but cuts himself off when Minho sets him down on the couch, untying his shoes and walking to put them back by the door. Then, Minho pulls his phone out of pocket, presses a few buttons, and holds it to his ear.

"Jisung is sick," he says in lieu of a greeting, "so he won't make it to practice."

He's talking to Chan. Jisung doesn’t need to see the call ID to know. Leaning back into the plush couch cushions, he coughs, and winces at the sharp pain that shoots through his skull at the action.

After a minute, Minho returns, and sets a box of tissues down on the coffee table, alongside numbing lozenges, pain killer, and a glass of water. Then, he tinkers around in the kitchen, and brings back the saddest, least seasoned bowl of rice that Jisung has ever laid eyes on.

Minho rakes his eyes over the assortment of items once more, before speaking.

"I'll be back at 12."

"But that's halfway through practice!" Jisung exclaims, swallowing back a cough. He sneezes instead.

Minho doesn't grace him with a response, instead pacing back over to the front door and pulling his own shoes on.

"Eat that, and then I'll make something else later. Don't order any junk food," he calls over his shoulder, and Jisung, although unwilling, hums in agreement.

The door clicks shut, and then, it's just him, his phone, and the television left, with an awkward silence sitting in the air.

Now what?

Jisung tries scrolling through social media, but quickly gets bored. He tries watching something on the television, but looking at such a large screen hurts his eyes, and sends random sharp pains through his skull. Not to mention, he constantly has to battle the woes of the common cold, which has him lying pathetically draped across the furniture, surrounded by tissues, face pulled into a perpetual grimace.

And then it comes to him.

His fanfiction.

Over the past few days, he'd drafted a solid foundation for the first chapter, and all it needs is a little reworking before it's ready to be published. Following the conversation with Hyunjin, Jisung had confronted the harsh reality that if he doesn't take that next step, the project will inevitably get swept to the same sad place as all of his rejected songs and lyrics – which would be a true disservice to the time and effort he's putting towards it. Though he hasn't yet figured out the ending, sending it out into the world can surely bring a new kind of inspiration.

And, even if it doesn't gain any popularity, perhaps one day a person will come along and enjoy the concept as much as Jisung himself does. That would make it worthwhile.

Thus, for the rest of the morning, Jisung uses the ounce of sanity that he can find amid his blocked nose and aching skull to polish up the chapter and post it. It's a very different feeling to releasing a new song – Stray Kids already have an established audience waiting with bated breath, but here, on Postype, he's nothing but a stranger. People will happen upon his fanfiction gradually, and only those who like it will stay.

It's actually quite refreshing, as it's away from the internet mess of idol life. He can finally be a regular person.

…A regular person that publishes Lee Know x Han Joseon dynasty poet/noble fanfiction.

When Minho pushes through the front door at 12, he's carrying shopping bags full of ingredients that Jisung can't discern from his spot on the couch. The older man glances over at Jisung while he unloads it all onto the kitchen island bench.

"Still alive?" He asks, to which Jisung croaks a pitiful "Not really."

"Need anything?" is the next question, but Jisung shakes his head, since Minho is evidently about to start cooking. Hopefully it's a dish with some flavour to it.

It's a strangely nice ambience – the sound of knives against cutting boards, and the consistent hum of the stove top fan. Soon, a delicious smell wafts over Jisung's way. Overwhelmed by curiosity but unwilling to call out, Jisung slides off the couch and gets to his feet, legs wobbling like a baby deer. He isn't entirely certain that he won't topple over on his way to the kitchen, but he manages to make it nonetheless, standing next to Minho by the stove and looking down at the bubbling pot of soup that he's concocted. Eager to stir it, he reaches for the spoon that Minho's holding, but Minho whacks his hand away without so much as turning his head.

"Ow!" Jisung overexaggerates, and Minho's eyebrow raises sceptically.

"You should be lying down," he says, and Jisung groans, sniffling and turning around to look at the ingredients on the bench.

He stops in his tracks.

"…Hyung," He slowly says, "why did you buy so much chilli?"

"Spice will clear your sinuses," Minho says casually, as though he isn't about to murder Jisung in cold blood. Jisung swallows, and then regrets it because it hurts.

"Could you maybe… add less?" He asks, but Minho doesn't answer his question directly, and instead says, "Go back to the couch. This will be done in a minute."

Walking away from the stove feels like walking towards gallows, and Jisung takes a moment to cherish his spice-less palette. It was nice being alive up until this point.

Much like he'd anticipated, drinking the soup makes him question if Minho has somehow reverse-engineered molten lava. Actual tears stream down his cheeks (to the older man's amusement), but when he thinks past the piercing, horrific fire that burns every single one of his organs, the flavour of the soup is actually quite nice. As it is, he promises to never take his health for granted, because if this is what it costs, he ought to treasure it.

The next day, Jisung awakens to a clear nose, a sore but tolerable throat, and a non-aching head. He takes in a deep breath with a smile, revelling in the joy of existing in a state free from ailment. Really it's a miracle that he's recovered so quickly, but perhaps Minho's soup was more effective than he'd anticipated.

Invigorated, he checks on Postype to see if anything has happened in relation to his fanfiction, and is positively surprised to find that a few people have already read, liked and bookmarked it. Perhaps Hyunjin was right, and the concept that he's chosen is more popular than he'd thought. The first chapter is centred primarily around Jisung's childhood, so it's evident that those who have bookmarked it trust him to further develop the narrative in an engaging way. He hopes he won't let them down.

Just then, a sound echoes through the walls of the dorm – muffled, but clearly identifiable.

A cough.

… No way.

Jisung immediately pushes himself out of bed, darts out of his room, and finds Minho leaning over the kitchen sink, glass of water in hand.

He looks terrible.

His nose is red, his skin is pale, and his face is gaunt, but his eyebrows furrow with determination.

"… You're not going to the company today, hyung," Jisung says, but Minho shakes his head.

"I need to be there."

"No, you don't. Not like this," Jisung refutes, but Minho simply sends him a tired look, conveying his complete and utter rejection of Jisung's opinion.

Now see here's the thing. If Jisung was a stronger man, he'd copy Minho's actions from the previous day, and carry the older man to the couch against his will. Unfortunately, Jisung's muscles aren't that strong yet, so any attempt to do so would likely end up with them both in hospital.

"Come on, Hyung," he says, hoping that the exasperated tone of his voice will have somewhat of an impact, "You won't be able to get anything done like this, and then you'll just get more sick, and have to take more time off!"

Minho groans, coughing and then holding his head in his hands. Jisung's stomach drops at the display, and he knows that he can't let the older man out of the front door.

"I can also make you soup," he suggests, "since we have leftover ingredients."

"Jisung-ah..." Minho says, raising his head slightly, "your soup will make me more sick."

Indignance bursts to life in Jisung's chest, as though his pride has been threatened by Minho's (very correct) statement. There's also unfortunately the underlying desire to be good at taking care of Minho, as spurred by his very non-platonic feelings.

"No it won't!" He says, putting a hand on his hip, and pointing the other across the room, "Look- I'll prove it to you! You can tell me what to do, and then I'll do it, and it will be fine!"

Minho shakes his head with finality, taking a sip from his glass, "No, I still need to go in."

Minho does not end up going in. This is because Jisung takes another leaf out of the older man's book, and calls Chan. It's only after twenty minutes of back-and-forth between the two men that Minho finally agrees to stay at the dorm, though his expression is bitter when he sets Jisung's phone down.

Feeling a bit bad, Jisung goes to hug him, but Minho side steps it and makes his way to the couch, slumping down. A moment passes while Jisung stands still in his spot, frowning because damn, his affection was rejected.

"You'll get sick again if you touch me," Minho calls out as though he's read Jisung's mind, and Jisung hangs his head.

Well, he can't have everything.

Making the soup goes just about as well as one would expect – terribly. Minho took some time amid his sniffling and coughing to write down the recipe and steps, but Jisung has never felt at home in a kitchen, and words can only do so much. While Minho's soup had been an appetising colour, Jisung's ends up muddy and splotchy. When it comes to adding chilli, a quiet sadistic voice in the back of his mind wants to get back at Minho, so he keeps adding and adding and adding until there's none left to add.

Minho's eyebrows raise when he's handed the bowl, and he brings it slowly to his nose to have a smell. Jisung watches with bated breath, but Minho's expression doesn't betray much.

"... Not bad," he eventually says, before taking a sip.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

"Is it spicy?" Jisung blurts at the same time that Minho says "Could be a bit spicier," and their eyes lock, a beat passing. It's quickly offset, however, as Jisung starts laughing, and Minho tries to stop himself from laughing, but ends up coughing and hunched over the coffee table with his eyes tightly shut and his hand massaging his throat.

Jisung pats his back, ignoring Minho's earlier words. He huffs a fond sigh.

"What are we going to do, Hyung? We're useless."

Writing and publishing his fanfiction interweaves satisfyingly with the rest of Jisung's life and career. He's been sure to establish in the story's notes that regular updates aren't feasible for him, so the only pressure that exists is a small group of eager people who are happy to read new chapters whenever. And Hyunjin, who is far less willing to wait, but Jisung also has the privilege of ignoring his opinion.

In his spare time, Jisung will jot down notes and passages on his phone, that he will later copy onto his official document. This is only frustrating when he has an idea mid-shoot and can't do anything about it, but otherwise it's a good system that maintains somewhat of a steady workflow.

Hyunjin has additionally taken on a role as an editor during his downtime, looking over Jisung's work and providing his own vague comments and critiques. He's generally very open and enthusiastic about it all, which is nice considering no one else in the group has any idea about this new hobby of his. Well, some days Jisung suspects that Changbin suspects something, but the older man hasn't brought it up, so Jisung hasn't either.

The duo performances come and go, with Felix and Minho dancing to Taemin's 'Move', Changbin and Chan performing Seotaiji's 'Ultramania', Seungmin and Hyunjin performing VIXX's 'Error', and Jisung himself and Jeongin singing K.Will's 'Please Don't...'. The professional performance videos are edited and published online, and generate a fair amount of buzz. In particular, one clip of Minho sensually moving his hips to 'Move's chorus plagues Jisung's twitter for-you-page, but he can't say that he's displeased by it.

As for Jisung's internalised homophobia... Well, it's still there, but it's faded into the background of his life rather than acting as an incessant buzzing noise in one ear. Every now and again he'll feel guilty or ashamed, but he's developed the ability to deal with such thoughts rationally, rather than suffering through an emotional breakdown.

There was one afternoon where things had been particularly bad, as Jisung was swept away in thoughts about his family, coming out, and the potential dangers that he faces as a man who likes men in the idol industry. He'd managed to calm his fears, however, with a deep breath, and the self-reassurance that while LGBTQIA+ issues are present in the media, his existence is not a political statement. Him liking men is not a political or social stance, because it simply is as it is. It's not something that he can control or get rid of, nor does it harm anyone, and those two factors are all that matters.

Something… changes.

Jisung would like to say that it's a gradual shift – one noticed over time through careful attentiveness, subtly integrated within everyday life until it's natural and normal.

But in reality, it's incredibly abrupt, and he isn't sure how to handle it.

It all begins with a drowsy late-afternoon nap, buried in the covers of his bed, when voices filter through and harshly tug him back into the world of the living. Jisung groans, pressing his face into a pillow and attempting to drift off again, until he manages to register who exactly is speaking, and jolts up in recognition.

Minho and… Hyunjin?

It's not often that those two hang out alone in this dorm. This may be the very first time, actually… so what are they up to?

By this point, Jisung has basically discarded his title as a non-snooper when it comes to the secret goings of Stray Kids members. On top of this, what's happening now is taking place in Jisung's legitimate residence, so he's arguably the intended audience anyway.

The conversation comes from Minho's bedroom, which is the first red flag. The man is incredibly picky about his personal space, and almost never offers up his room as a place of hangout, so the fact that they're in there is... Suspicious.

The second red flag is the frequent muffled knocking and tapping sounds that filter out, and for the life of him, Jisung cannot fathom what they must be doing.

When he opens the door to see, the information trickles slowly into his brain before mercilessly throwing him off a cliff.

Oh, they're hanging up a painting. That's nice. Maybe he commissioned something from Hyunjin... Though it's a pretty big canvas. I wonder what's on it?

.

...It's the painting.

As in, the painting.

Hyunjin's painting of Minho and Jisung kissing.

And they're figuring out how to hang it up... In Minho's room.

What the fuck?! Jisung thinks to himself, but when Hyunjin's head snaps to face him, he realises that he'd also said it out loud.

Minho, bizarrely enough, doesn't seem surprised by Jisung's presence, or the fact that his jaw is hanging open so dramatically that it may just lock in place. Instead, he offers a small smile, and when he speaks, his tone is casual.

"Jagi, look. Do you think it fits here?" He gestures to the wall space, as though Jisung can focus on that at the moment. As if Jisung's heartbeat isn't pulsing through his skin, and sweat isn't starting to trickle down the back of his neck.

What the actual hell is going on? Am I in an alternate universe?!

Hyunjin offers Jisung a shrug, "He asked if he could have it. I couldn't see why not."

See, this is why Hyunjin is the traitor in Jisung's fanfiction.

"I- I can!" Jisung finally manages to say, voice strained as his eyes flick between the painting and Minho and the painting and Hyunjin and the painting-

"What, do you have an issue with it?" Minho asks, brows furrowing, and hands dropping to his sides.

"Yes!" Jisung exclaims, but can't find any voice to explain why. Thousands of emotions swarm within him like a lightning storm swallowing a kite.

"... What?" Minho unfortunately asks.

"It- I don't," Jisung splutters, desperately attempting to gather his thoughts in a clear and logical order, "-It can't go in here!"

Now that statement commands a whole new type of silence, with Minho's eyebrows raising and Hyunjin's eyes widening, but it's over as soon as Hyunjin slaps his knee, a short, humoured laugh falling from his lips. He gives Jisung a knowing look, but Jisung is too frazzled to care.

Why did I say that oh my god I should have said it's inappropriate or something now he definitely thinks I-

"...Where else should it go?" Minho asks, and Jisung wracks his brain.

"I... I don't know, the living room, or something? It's a painting of both of us, so..."

It's really not the most logical response, because what sane person decides to hang a painting of them and their dorm mate kissing in an openly accessible area?!

But Minho simply nods as though his opinion is reasonable, eyes flicking up in thought.

"What about the laundry room?" He suggests, "Then it's out of sight."

Argh! Jisung should have thought of that!

"Yeah, that's fine," he weakly says, and then the world moves quickly as Minho picks up the painting and exits his bedroom, heading towards the laundry room. Hyunjin firmly pats Jisung on the shoulder but follows suit, leaving Jisung behind to mull over whatever the hell just happened.

Like, what do you mean Minho specifically contacted Hyunjin to put the painting up in his room?!

Does this mean that he likes the painting?! And if so, does this mean that he likes Jisung back?!

…No.

Surely not.

He's probably just drawn in by Hyunjin's artistry, not the subject matter. Jisung can't let himself linger in such fantasies for too long, because if he gets stuck, they'll kill him from the inside out. He's better off pushing the potential to the back of his mind, and continuing with life as usual.

The next indicator of a significant change comes in the form of Minho tapping Jisung on the shoulder during the downtime of a shoot, offering him an ear pod so that they can watch anime together on his phone.

Aka, nothing out of the norm.

What is out of the norm is the fact that the anime is gay. Like, very gay.

It's called Yuri on Ice, which is a title that Jisung has heard of before, but hasn't ever checked out. What he was not expecting was for a naked attractive man in a sauna to flirtatiously propose his idea to personally instruct the protagonist (his biggest fan) in ice skating.

Now, obviously Jisung doesn't dislike the fact that it's gay. He's rather thrilled actually, it's just that he and Minho typically watch popular, trending, or nostalgic anime together, while Yuri on Ice doesn't fit into any of those categories for Jisung.

And Minho has already seen it.

So it's not a case of Minho picking out a new show that looks interesting, which is then experienced blindly by both of them. No, what has happened is Minho has thought wow, I really want to watch Yuri on Ice again,and then somewhere in the decision-making process figured that his (in his mind hetero) friend would really enjoy homoromantic ice skating. Which isn't an issue at all, but it's just… odd, for them.

And it doesn't stop there. Minho begins to periodically recommend anime to Jisung that all have one thing in common: Homosexuality.

Given, Doukyuusei, Umibe no Etranger, Cherry Magic, Heaven Official's Blessing (albeit technically a danmei), Citrus, Mo Dao Zu Shi (also danmei), and the list goes on.

What Jisung struggles to reckon with is why. What exactly has caused this sudden desire within Minho to share all of the gay media that he's never bothered to mention in the past? Not only is it too much for Jisung to take in all at once, it's also dangerous for his emotional state, because his imagination likes to attribute it to returned feelings, which he knows isn't the case.

At least, he… he thinks it's not the case.

"So, explain it to me, then," Changbin says, taking a sip of his protein shake, "The plan."

Jisung leans back in his seat. The JYP cafeteria isn't empty, so they've secured a booth separate to most of the bustle.

"Well, it had three phases," Jisung starts, "and I named it- …Well, that doesn't matter, but-"

Changbin gives him an unimpressed look, and Jisung folds pitifully quickly.

"Well I, uh, dubbed it the 'Please Reject Me, Hyung!' plan..."

Changbin's eyes widen instantly and he laughs – loud enough to draw a few glances. Jisung leans over the table to shush him, pressing a hasty hand across the older man's face.

"But anyway!" He continues, "It had three phases. I can't remember what I called them, but I used them to gauge whether or not he likes me."

Changbin pulls Jisung's hand away, expression still humoured.

"What were the criteria?"

"Well," Jisung casts his mind back, brows furrowing, "in the first phase, I asked him for relationship advice to see if he'd be jealous, but it didn't get far because he was just really supportive."

"Supportive of what?" Changbin presses, and Jisung gives him a look – surely he can't have figured something out already.

"Supportive of my happiness, I guess. He said I deserve a girl that's right for me."

Changbin purses his lips.

"Because you specifically mentioned girls?" he asks, and Jisung nods.

"What was the next phase?" He then asks, and Jisung thinks back again. When he remembers what exactly the second test resulted in, a blush starts to creep up his neck, and he looks down at the table.

"I, ah, tried to show off my body a bit around the dorm. Just a bit, you know, because if he liked me he'd shy away, and if he didn't he wouldn't."

Changbin falls quiet, and stays that way until the silence that stretches between them is painful.

"…Jisung-ah," he eventually says, tone disbelieving, "In what world would he shy away from that?"

"I don't know!" Jisung exclaims, burying his head in his hands, "I don't know what I was thinking!"

Changbin takes a deep breath, slowly letting it out, "I'm going to assume that phase two failed, then?"

Jisung nods.

"Alright then, what was the last one?"

Jisung sits back up, rubbing his face and then running a hand through his hair. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, and somewhat apprehensive.

"I asked him about his… bedroom preferences."

Changbin stills, "… Why?"

"Compatibility, or something," he mumbles in response, and wow, he's really regretting bringing this topic up in the first place.

"… Well? Are you compatible?" Changbin presses, and Jisung realises that, back when he'd initially executed the plan, he'd imagined himself to exclusively top. Now he knows that both he and Minho are fine with anything, and that sexual preferences don't technically indicate anything about feelings anyway… So altogether, everything considered…

"…Shit," Jisung says, eyes widening, "I was wrong."

His hands reach up to tangle in his hair.

"I was wrong," he repeats, and Changbin seems somewhat confused, so he clarifies, "I came to the wrong conclusion, hyung! I was so certain that he doesn't like me, but this means that- that-"

"-That there's a possibility," Changbin finishes, and Jisung quickly nods. Underneath his skin, energy buzzes, and he feels as though he could run a marathon.

This whole time…

"But I can't get ahead of myself," he breaks through his spiralling thoughts, "I still don't know for sure. And I also don't know why he's suddenly started doing these things."

Changbin seems to take a moment to consider his words, but when he speaks, his tone is decisive.

"Just pay more attention to him from now on, Jisungie. Maybe you'll find an answer."

Tension is high in the dance practice room, as their deadline is nearing and things just aren't as clean and organised as they should be. It's a difficult choreography that they've taken on this time – one that requires swift, precise movements, and while all of the group members can generally execute it, they can't seem to manage a full run-through without fault.

Minho's mood is like a ticking time bomb – mouth set into a firm line and eyes sharp as he gazes into the mirror, picking out flaws like a hawk picks out prey. It's kind of attractive, but Jisung doesn't let himself linger on such thoughts. When someone inevitably gets a move wrong, Minho makes them repeat it at least five times correctly before the rest of the group can keep going. It's a gruelling process, but necessary so that they can show their best selves on stage in the coming week.

During a run-through of the second verse, Jeongin accidentally throws his arm out at an incorrect angle. During a run-through of the final chorus, Changbin does a move with his left leg instead of his right leg.

After a short break filled with panting breaths, skulled water bottles, and towelled-away sweat, they try their hand at the full song.

They get through the intro flawlessly.

The first verse is stunning.

The chorus is as pristine as can be.

The second verse goes well, as does the second chorus, and Jisung genuinely thinks that they might be able to do it. They might finally break the curse.

That is, until his hand slips.

It's during a move right by the end, where they get close to the ground and use their hands to hold their weight, while their legs stick up and out. Covered in sweat, Jisung's skin is just a tad too slippery as it hits the ground, so his arm jerks out and his weight unbalances and he topples backwards into another member with a groan.

That member just so happens to be Minho.

Well, life was fun while it lasted.

But, to the complete shock of everybody present, Minho doesn't yell at him. Doesn't tell him to stand up and do the move again and again until it's burned into his skull.

Instead, he simply sighs, reaching out to fix Jisung's hair where it's gone astray. Then, he gets to his feet, brushes off his sweatpants, and says, "You know the drill, everyone. Back to the beginning."

And this isn't the only time that he blatantly favours Jisung.

Later in the week, while out to eat with Minho and Changbin, Minho only pays for his own and Jisung's food, leaving Changbin slack-jawed and speechless, eyes shifting between the two of them. Jisung, incredibly humoured by this, simply laughs and claps him on the shoulder, teasing that maybe he'll have "better luck next time."

But it's not just the favouritism that's become more apparent. The flirtation has too, and it's driving Jisung insane.

Now, it's no secret that he and Minho flirt with one another. It's a playful, light hearted aspect to their relationship, and one that Jisung had truly felt the loss of when Minho started pulling away from him.

This thing is, the key word throughout all of this has been 'playful'. Intended for amusement. A jesting way to express friendly affection.

There's a distinct line between playful flirting and genuine flirting, and for some reason Minho has decided to skip past that line and never look back.

The first distinct flirtatious change is the frequency with which he uses pet names. 'Jagiya' has been a common term of endearment between them for as long as Jisung can remember, but now Minho has basically substituted it in place of his name.

"Jagi, what do you want for dinner?"

"Jagiya, how much longer will you be in the studio for?"

"Jagi, let's watch another episode."

"Your arm is too high, jagi. It needs to be at forty five degrees."

"Don't worry jagi, I'll pay."

The issue with this is not that Jisung minds being called jagi, but that he now feels pressured to return the term of endearment – match every "jagiya" that falls from Minho's lips with a "jagiya" of his own – which is simply unsustainable. Not to mention, his heart likes to do a funny thing or two whenever Minho uses the term, hindering his ability to maintain a cool, composed demeanor throughout day-to-day life.

The second distinct flirtatious change also happens to disrupt his demeanour, but in less of a 'kicking feet and giggling' kind of way, and more of a 'woah woah woah hold on' kind of way.

Skinship.

Jisung has always loved skinship. Perhaps a bit too much, actually. When he's comfortable with a person, he enjoys expressing that through physical touch. Nothing weird, just lots of head-leaning-against-shoulders and unprompted hugs. With Minho, he's always loved to snuggle up, whether that be while watching anime, or sitting next to each other in the car on the way back from schedules. Of course, it's largely due to his feelings for the man, but Jisung admittedly likes skinship with Minho the most. He's a comforting, warm, solid presence that Jisung can always return to after a long day in the studio, at schedules, or out having fun.

Minho, on the other hand, doesn't like skinship as much. He's perfectly fine with Jisung, but casual physical affection with other people is less his thing. Well, outside of the more perverted ass slaps and chest grabs – which is partially where Jisung's second issue lies.

Alongside increased terms of endearment, Minho has not been able to keep his hands off Jisung.

When Jisung stands at the kitchen counter to make something, Minho will come up behind him and lean into his back, reaching around for something that he definitely could have gotten with less proximity.

When they walk around together (in areas without many people), Jisung often finds Minho's hand on his waist, delicate enough to not hurt him, but tight enough to keep them pressed together.

Not to mention, Minho's famed ass slaps have become more frequent and more... vigorous, and his chest grabs are much the same.

What really gets Jisung, though, is the skinship that he isn't used to.

Such as how, when they sit on the couch together, connected like magnets, Minho's hand will come to rest against Jisung's inner thigh. Then, for the duration of whatever it is that they're watching, he'll absentmindedly play around with the fabric of Jisung's sweatpants or shorts or whatever it is that he's wearing, poking and prodding at the area and in the worst-case scenarios – gently caressing. The first time he did that, Jisung inhaled so sharply that he started coughing, and Minho left to get him a glass of water. But, can you blame him? Having Minho's hand so much as rest against such an intimate, sensitive area of his body was torture enough already!

The other flusteringly intimate thing Minho's taken to doing is speaking into his ears. Rather than having normal, face-to-face conversations, if Minho has a point he wants to make, he'll crowd into Jisung's space, bring his face close to his neck, and speak with a soft, quiet voice that drives Jisung insane. Not to mention, from the close proximity, his breath will inevitably fan over Jisung's skin and raise goosebumps – frequently leading to full body shivers and a pounding heart.

Then, the third distinct flirtatious change comes in the form of flirtatious remarks that definitely step over the line.

Jisung is used to "you look sexy in that"s and "you're pretty"s.

What he isn't used to, is "Jagi, if you keep looking at me like that, they'll need to cut the cameras"s.

Or, "Oh? In what way?", said with a suggestive smirk, when Jisung had proclaimed that he could "take him". Their discussion was centred around fighting, so the context was definitely implied, but Minho apparently felt the need to ignore it.

Or, "You're mine anyway, so it doesn't matter", mumbled into his shoulder during a car ride, after Jisung had brought up the topic of his and Hyunjin's exaggerated displays of affection and similar use of the term 'jagi'.

Or, perhaps most dizzyingly, "What made you think you can talk to me like that?", whispered into his ear with a firm hand grasping his shoulder, after he'd been mouthing off in dance practice.

Throughout all of this, Jisung's motivation to write and publish his fanfiction has been thriving. Each new day drives him a little more insane, and he channels such insanity into furious typing on a document with over thirty thousand words thus far. His aim is to reach over one hundred thousand, which actually seems feasible with the level of description he's imbuing into the settings and character interactions.

Hyunjin has continued reading back through his work and editing, so that the chapters he publishes are in their best possible quality for his readers. He has a fairly strong following now, and the plot is reaching the marriage letter plot twist, so he really wants to ensure that his vision is coming across.

He hasn't yet figured out what the ending will be, but there's still plenty of time for that.

Now, beyond these general changes that manifest regularly over the days that pass, there is one distinct moment that digs its way into the crevices of Jisung's mind, permanently engraving itself within his memory.

It starts with a splinter.

"Ow!" Jisung yelps, arm jerking back from the wooden panel sitting on the floor. Scattered around him is a mess of paper and screws and disconnected parts, which will all theoretically come together to make a small set of drawers, but is a far cry from such at the moment.

Where the splinter digs into the flesh of his thumb is obvious – a small brown shard just below the surface of the skin. The only issue is, it's managed to wedge itself in the worst way possible, with barely any sticking out for him to use to his advantage.

First, he tries pressing on the skin around the worst section, but it barely even shifts, let alone starts to come out.

Alright, tactic number two.

Using his nails, he attempts to drag it out, which works a little, but he just can't get a grip on the tiny fucker. Not to mention, it's in his dominant hand! Just another level of inconvenience dragging the process out.

Next, he tries pressing on the sides of it with more force, but a sharp pain cuts through his thumb from the action. He tries a few more times, but it's no use. If he doesn't get help, it'll be stuck there forever.

"Hyung..." He weakly says, tapping on Minho's bedroom door.

"Hm?" Minho's voice echoes from within, and Jisung takes it as an opening to make his way into the room, finding the older man laying back against the headboard of his bed.

"I have a splinter," he says, holding his thumb out. He doesn't mean to pout. He really doesn't, but the expression falls onto his face regardless.

"...And what do you want me to do with it?" Minho bluntly asks, but a smile is hidden in his voice.

"Take it out!" Jisung exclaims, and Minho chuckles, because clearly that's the reaction he wanted.

"Alright," he says, sliding to stand up. From his desk, he picks up a pair of tweezers, and Jisung feels slightly ashamed that he didn't think to try that himself.

Regardless, they find themselves sitting on the end of Minho's bed, Jisung's hand held in the older man's warm, firm grip. Minho brings the tweezers up to the splinter, gets a hold of it and pulls, and shit it's painful.

Jisung grits his teeth at the torturously slow sensation, arm trying to pull away but held forcefully in place by Minho. Ever the chatterbox, a fast string of "ow"s, "that hurts"s, and "be careful"s fall from his lips, high pitched and pitiful. Minho ignores him.

It isn't long before tears well up in Jisung's eyes from the sting and he bites his bottom lip, willing them not to fall, because that would be embarrassing.

Finally, after what feels like a decade, the splinter is out and thrown onto the bed, and all that's left to deal with is the painfully throbbing red cut in his skin. Pulling his arm back, he's startled to find that Minho's hold remains firm, keeping him there. The older man's eyes are still trained on his thumb, a slight furrow evident in his brows.

"What?" Jisung asks with a laugh, "Are you going to kiss it better?"

It's very clearly a joke. Anyone in their right mind would consider it to be such, and would playfully laugh along, but not find any genuinity in it.

But no. Minho meets his gaze, and swiftly, without breaking eye contact, brings Jisung hand up to his mouth, and presses a chaste kiss to the reddened skin. An electric shock travels through Jisung's hand and into his heart, sharply stealing the air from his lungs.

Speechless, his lips fall open and he gapes at the older man, brain unable to process such a startlingly intimate turn of events. Minho doesn't seem to think anything of it, however, as he simply lets go of Jisung's hand and stands up, calmly putting the tweezers back on his desk.

"It's as though he's trying to make me confess to him!" Jisung exclaims one afternoon, cap pulled backwards over his head and muscle shirt sitting loose on his frame.

Changbin lets out a sigh, slowing down to stop on the edge of the footpath. It's a clear, sunny afternoon by the Han River, and a pleasant breeze rustles through the trees, offsetting the distant hum of vehicles and chaotic city life. Changbin looks him in the eye, tone completely serious.

"I think he is."

"Well, then-" Jisung starts, but isn't sure how to continue. Over the past few weeks, it's become increasingly evident that Minho actually, genuinely likes him. Romantically. It's in the way that he behaves, in the things that he says, and in the lingering looks of fondness that he no longer shies away from Jisung noticing. It's to the extent that if he doesn't like Jisung, then he must be embarking on a needlessly cruel, bizarrely motivated quest to make Jisung think that he likes him – which simply wouldn't make sense. What on Earth could he gain from such a thing?

...So he likes Jisung.

And he must have at least an inclination that Jisung likes him back, because as Jisung just stated, it's as though he's trying to make him confess. Trying to push Jisung to the brink of his sanity, and drag an admittance of feelings into the open air between them.

"I don't see what the problem is," Changbin says, "You're almost guaranteed to have a good outcome, so you should just do it."

"No, I..." Jisung trails off, before finally coming to a conclusion. He stands up straighter.

"I'm not going to confess, because he should be the one to do it!"

Jisung almost feels bad for Changbin, with the way that his eyebrows curve up with exhaustion, and his lips part, a very loud exclamation clearly wanting to break free from his chest.

"If he's so desperate to be with me," Jisung continues, "he should just man up and tell me!"

"Jisung, he clearly has other ideas! And you're also a man!" Changbin says, looking up to the sky as if it will be able to help him.

Truth be told, Jisung just doesn't want to confess to Minho. Not yet. Perhaps it's because he'd been in the dark with his feelings for so long, or simply because he's a hopeless romantic, but for the very first time in his life, Jisung has experienced romance the way that it is in fanfiction and K-Dramas and films – and that means a lot to him. All of Minho's flirtatious remarks, all of his breath-taking actions. Jisung is in a whole new world, one that lights up his heart in ways he never knew possible.

So, as much as he wants to be in a relationship with Minho – as much as he longs to pull him close and kiss him on the lips forever more, a selfish part of him wants to keep indulging in what they have now. Keep revelling in the thrill of the chase – a tantalising back-and-forth with tightly strung tension that's ever on the verge of snapping.

"Don't worry, hyung," Jisung says, "I know I'm being stubborn. Really, I just want to see if I can make him confess to me."

Changbin lets out a long breath, shaking his head.

"Whatever you say, man."

Jisung knows that he can't seduce his way into Minho confessing – 'Please Reject Me, Hyung!' already proved as much. Thus, out of the sheer curiosity to see what will happen, he decides to romance Minho. Flirt with him in a way that's sweet and caring and earnest – and hopefully fluster the man a satisfying amount. Whether it will lead to a confession is another thing, but baby steps, people. Baby steps.

The best way to approach his task is to bring him somewhere irrefutably romantic, which is how he finds himself in the passenger seat of Minho's car, directing Minho to a location that the older man is completely in the dark about. In the sky, the sun is just beginning to set, light yellows and golds tinting the clouds with an elegant glow. Jisung had ensured that they would both have the evening off work, and had told Minho to dress nicely (which had earned raised eyebrows and a playful smirk), so all that's left is to successfully make it through to the next day.

It's definitely not a date.

The drive to the restaurant is peaceful, with Jisung working the stereo and playing songs that he knows they both like. Every now and again he'll lower the volume to explain a few turns or notable elements on Google Maps, before turning it back up and humming or singing along. What he staunchly tries not to do, is stare directly at Minho, because when Jisung had asked him to dress nicely, he'd done exactly that.

He's wearing black dress pants that betray the strong contours of his thighs (Jisung staunchly refuses to look down at the other man's lap as well), a stylish leather jacket with silver metal embellishments, and a black dress shirt – its neckline unbuttoned tantalisingly low. On top of this, he's wearing two silver necklaces and his hair is styled back maturely, with a few calculated strands hanging over his forehead to complete the look. Sitting in the car, his side profile is like that of a god – his straight nose and plump lips an entrancing sight.

... Which is exactly why Jisung looks away. If he lets himself stare, he'll stare forever, so he resorts to scrolling through songs to figure out what should come next.

Jisung himself is dressed in washed out blue jeans, a black turtleneck undershirt, and a grey overcoat – a combination that had taken him an hour to create because he was panicking about whether or not it could be considered casual or formal attire.

When the terrain around them starts inclining, Jisung's brows furrow. He hadn't considered elevation when finding and booking a table at the restaurant, rather focusing on distance from the dorms. When they've almost arrived at their destination, Minho's voice breaks through the music.

"Jagiya, why is there a ferris wheel?"

Jisung's head snaps up and sure enough, next to the restaurant stands a ferris wheel – huge and imposing and incredibly daunting of a structure. It is open and working, however, as identifiable through the short line of people and the gradual movement of the carriages.

"We don't have to do that," Jisung responds, because he's actually quite fine with staying on the ground, "We're just here for the restaurant."

Now, Jisung hadn't exactly intended for the restaurant to be a city view restaurant, but when they walk into the establishment, he can immediately understand why the average review online was five stars. Large glass windows showcase the tiny buildings and cars below, drenched in the warm light of the sunset and glittering like jewels. It's a breathtaking sight, and in a fortunate twist of fate, they're seated at a two-person table right by it.

Minho looks out over the landscape, eyes reflecting from the scene before him.

"Romantic," he says as he turns back to face Jisung, who is sitting opposite him.

"Only for you," Jisung jokes, but it's not really a joke, and his heart is stuck in his throat because he hadn't truly considered the consequences of asking Minho to dress up and go out with him.

The consequence in question at the moment, is that he now must hold on to the dregs of his sanity and maintain a conversation with the most breathtakingly gorgeous man he's ever laid eyes upon.

Who also happens to be his best friend.

And dormmate.

And group member.

And soulmate.

Really, he's in a bit of a tough spot, but gosh Minho must have applied eyeshadow or something because his eyes are exceedingly dark and soulful and beautiful and now he's saying something that Jisung really needs to tune into but he's getting flashbacks to that time in the studio and wow he really is a consistent person, isn't he?

"...Huh?" He says unintelligently, and Minho smiles and huffs out a breath.

"I'm going to assume that my eyes look good?" He repeats, and Jisung's cheeks heat up. But he can't let this end the way that it did last time – he needs to take control of the situation.

"No," he says, shaking his head, and Minho raises a brow, somewhat taken aback.

"Then what?"

Jisung brings an elbow up to the table so that he can rest his head on his palm. Inside his chest, butterflies flurry around in a chaotic swirl.

"They look beautiful."

Oh my god I just said that those words actually left my mouth okay okay be cool be cool be-

In the evening glow, the red tint to Minho's ears is easily apparent, and the older man shrinks slightly into himself, shy.

"...Oh," he quietly breathes, and Jisung flashes him a bright, heart-shaped smile, revelling in the enamored look that comes over the other man's expression.

Just then, a waitress arrives and Jisung snaps out of it, ordering a few dishes from the menu and a non-alcoholic drink to start things off. Minho, as usual, orders beer, but a non alcoholic variant as Jisung (courtesy of multiple unsuccessful driving attempts) refuses to so much as touch a steering wheel.

From there, their conversation becomes a lot more comfortable, shifting through topics like anime and upcoming group schedules. The sky outside gradually dims, and the jewels morph into stars in an inky night sky. The food is eventually brought out – an assortment of Korean dishes, high in quality and delicious in taste.

"No!" Jisung exclaims after swallowing his mouthful, "This is on me, hyung."

Minho shakes his head.

"Nope. I'm older than you. I'm going to pay."

Jisung sends him an exasperated look, and decides that rather than engaging in this endless back and forth, he should simply end the conversation now and pull out his card later, when it's time to pay.

Using his chopsticks, he picks up a generous portion of his honey garlic fried tofu, and holds it out. Minho eats it easily, but residue of the sauce is left on the corner of his lip as Jisung pulls the chopsticks away.

He now has the opportunity to do the most romance-novel coded thing possible.

Jisung glances around at the surrounding tables, and confirms that no one is looking their way. Then, he reaches across the table again, heartbeat in his throat, and uses his thumb to wipe the older man's lip.

Minho stills, and the two lock eyes. Jisung doesn't register the fact that he's brought his hand back to lick it off until Minho's gaze flicks down and he coughs, turning abruptly to look out the window, eyes blinking rapidly. Jisung smiles to himself, mind drifting back to the splinter and Minho's own bold actions.

A taste of his own medicine!

To Jisung's dismay, Minho pays, but only because the device is tilted in his direction when they head up to the counter, and Jisung doesn't want to make a scene. Once they've exited into the chilly bite of the night air, Jisung lightly elbows him in the rib, but Minho just smiles, proud of himself.

"Are we going to do it?" Minho asks before they can walk into the carpark, nodding towards the ferris wheel.

"Hyung, we both don't like heights," Jisung points out, and Minho shrugs.

"Doesn't bother me, we can head back."

Well, now Jisung feels like they need to do it. He glances up at the structure, at the few people waiting in line. It won't take long, and it likely won't cost very much.

Jisung sighs, grabbing Minho's arm.

"Alright, let's do it."

"But we both don't like heights," Minho points out, and Jisung whacks him.

Standing in line, Jisung's heart rate starts to pick up, but not in the pleasant flustered way. He tries to distract himself from the sensation by looking around at everything that isn't the ferris wheel, such as Minho's chest, which is surely getting cold with how little fabric is covering it.

Minho also happens to be distracted, but rather than by Jisung, by a 'couples discount' sign. His mouth is set into a firm line, but Jisung isn't in the frame of mind to read into such a thing.

Stepping into the carriage, Jisung's legs feel weak, and he wonders why on Earth he decided to do this in the first place. Sweat starts to trickle down the back of his neck, and Minho doesn't seem to be doing well either – eyes wide and regretful. They sit opposite one another to maintain balance, which leaves an awkward gap in the middle, but they'll both take an awkward gap over an unstable machine in the air.

The door closes and locks, and then the carriage starts moving. Instantly, Jisung's hands dart to hold the seat with a white-knuckled grip, and he locks eyes with Minho, swallowing.

"Hyung, why are we doing this?" He breathes, and Minho shakes his head. He's tense and on edge – hands holding his seat as well.

"We're idiots," he finally manages to say, before jolting as the carriage comes to rest for a moment, presumably letting more people in. They aren't even halfway up yet, but the slight swinging of the carriage and the sight of the world below them is already nauseating.

"Ah!" Jisung exclaims as it suddenly starts moving again, and the city below starts to come into view. He's sure that it would be a pretty, romantic moment if they both enjoyed such activities, but as it is, they're both breathing heavily and staunchly not looking down.

After what feels like forever, their carriage comes to rest at the top of the ride, and Jisung risks a glance out. His knees are locked together and his heartbeat is racing, and opposite him, Minho looks on the verge of death – eyes closed and curled into himself.

The view is great. It really is... He'd just much rather appreciate it from the ground.

Suddenly, Jisung has an epiphany.

"Hyung," Jisung breathes, and Minho's eyes crack open, brows furrowed, "If we lean forwards we can hold hands."

Minho considers the proposal for a moment, and starts to reach out, but his arm shakes too much so he quickly pulls it back. Jisung won't let his effort go to waste, however, and detaches one of his own hands from the chair, leaning forward and weakly extending it out.

Minho's grip is sweaty and tight as he quickly grabs hold, but a wave of relief washes over Jisung regardless. In a bold, reckless move, he extends his other hands as well.

Just as he does so, however, the carriage starts moving and he yelps, eyes wide. A startled expression overcomes Minho's face and within the next moment his other hand is in Jisung's own, similarly tight with desperation.

For the rest of the ride down, these small points of contact ground them, slowing their breathing from erratic to merely panicked, allowing them to at least somewhat enjoy the experience.

"Alright, it's done. That's fine. This was fine," Jisung breathes as they reach the bottom, but to his surprise, the carriage doesn't slow down or stop. It simply moves past the exit ramp and starts going up again, completely unhindered.

Minho and Jisung lock eyes.

They'd forgotten about the second loop.

When they stumble off the ramp, leaning into one another with weak legs and arms and just about everythings, Jisung can't help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes his chest. Knocking his head onto Minho's shoulder, he sighs.

"I'm never doing that again," he says, resisting the urge to interlock his hands with Minho's again. At the end of the second turn, they'd unwillingly detached so as to not seem weak in front of the ferris wheel staff.

"Neither," Minho says.

The trip to the car is a quick one, and they both slump into their seats, leaning back and breathing heavily. Jisung chances a glance over at the other man, but finds him already looking his way, gaze intent.

Jisung's heart skips a beat. Suddenly, the weakness in his limbs returns, but he suspects that it isn't from the ride.

Silence falls between them, and Jisung's mind latches on to how close in proximity they are – how little it would take to reach out and weave their fingers together, or brush a strand of hair from his face.

Minho's eyes are soft yet concentrated, dark lashes framing them with a heaviness that takes Jisung's breath away. He doesn't know what to do, here, pinned to his seat by the mere whim of the other man.

He knows, deep down, that he's willing to bend to all of Minho's wishes.

Anything that he says, Jisung will go along with.

Anything.

Minho's eyes dart to somewhere behind Jisung's head, and he swiftly moves, leaning over the centre console to take hold of Jisung's seat belt and holy shit he's right there. His body is so close to Jisung's that a slight warmth radiates from it, and the subtleties of his skin and hair and clothes are clearly visible.

Sweat gathers in Jisung's palms, and he can feel a heat creep up his neck.

Minho pulls the seatbelt down and across, clicking it into place, but he doesn't move away. Instead, his eyes flick back up to meet Jisung's own.

Time stops, and it's like a moment in a K-Drama, wherein the music drops out and is replaced with the sound of a beating heart, tightly wound tension hanging in the air.

Jisung's throat feels dry, as do his lips, so without thinking his tongue flicks out to wet them and oh god now Minho's looking down. Now Minho's eyes are trained on Jisung's lips and Jisung's going to die. He's already passed away. But neither of them make a move to do anything, and Jisung remembers that all this time, Minho has been trying to make him confess.

So he isn't going to do anything.

Well, Jisung can have a bit of fun with that knowledge, can't he?

"Hyung," he breathes, and Minho's eyes meet his once more. He hums in question.

"Why don't you do this with the other members?" Jisung asks, and revels in the slight raise of Minho's eyebrows, the slight confusion tinting his expression. But it all quickly leaves as he realises Jisung's intention, and a tantalising grin settles on his lips.

Vaguely, Jisung realises that he's backed himself into a corner.

Without warning, Minho's hand comes to rest on Jisung's jaw, tender and yet endlessly dizzying.

Then, he slowly leans in, stopping Jisung's heart, but he tilts to the side, so his mouth comes to rest by Jisung's ear, breath raising goosebumps along his skin.

"Because they aren't you," he quietly says, before pulling away, and drawing back fully into the driver's seat.

When he starts the car's ignition, the smile remains on his lips.

Chapter Text

It's become somewhat of a competition.

Never named out loud as such, but understood through pointed glances and calculated moves – a constant push and pull that has Jisung falling face-first onto his bed, kicking his feet and muffling giggles with the fabric of the covers. The world has been tinted pastel pink and green, and takes his mind off the ever-present looming understanding that one day they'll actually have to address things – with one another and with the company. While the former is daunting, the latter sits lower on a tier list of 'enjoyable activities' than spending 24 hours locked in a room full of spiders, with no light, food, or knowledge of how much time has passed. Despite this, the banter and mutual understanding sitting ever-present on their tongues take easy priority.

Following the non-date date, Jisung had thought long and hard about how to best manipulate romance-adjacent scenarios to be in his favour. Unfortunately, Minho is a natural-born flirt, and while Jisung can call upon his usual plethora of ostentatious pick-up lines, he can't outdo the older man's seductive prowess on the spot. Minho simply understands him too well, and knows which buttons to push to throw Jisung's momentum down the drain. It's because of this, that Jisung has found himself drawing from fanfiction – leaning in to certain tropes and ideas that the older man has no way to predict. In theory it's a genius tactic, in practice, well... Let's just say it depends.

If Jisung's recent life were a television romcom, the highlight reel of this season would likely feature these key instances:

• Minho calling Jisung one night to speak with him… while they are in the same house, in their separate bedrooms. Jisung can clearly hear him through the walls the entire time, but they end up discussing anime and other topics until Jisung falls asleep. When he wakes up the next morning, he finds that Minho has tucked him in, and placed his phone on the bedside table.
• Jisung and Minho essentially playing footsie while out to eat with the rest of the group. It isn't a big deal until Minho's shoe starts to slide suggestively upwards, and Jisung panics, drawing everyone else's attention and causing Minho to burst into laughter.
• Jisung boldly attempting to trap Minho in a kabedon, but Minho is taller than him so he just looks down with amusement and asks, "Is this all you've got?"
• Jisung offering to give Minho a massage after one of their dance practices. It all goes well, with Jisung successfully dropping a few flirtatious lines, until Minho starts purposefully making inappropriate sounds and Jisung flushes from head to toe.
• Minho seductively unbuttoning his shirt while staring into Jisung's eyes, who had entered his room to ask about issues with the wifi router, but caught the older man mid-bedtime routine.

Sometimes he feels like he's reading too much into things, and that this is all just friendly fun, until the memory of Minho buckling him into the car seat returns to his mind and he thinks no, he definitely likes me.

In other news, Changbin barges into Jisung and Minho's dorm one morning with a determined expression on his face and his hands on his hips.

"Alright, where is it?" He asks Jisung, who is still in his pyjamas and rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.

"Where is… huh? What?" Jisung responds, barely able to comprehend much at all.

"Hyunjin's painting," Changbin clarifies, and suddenly Jisung is much more tuned into reality.

"Didn't he tell you it was here?" he asks, and Changbin shakes his head dramatically, as though Hyunjin has greatly wronged him.

"I went to go look at it in his room, but it was gone."

Jisung is about to nod, until his mind latches onto a specific implication.

"… Why did you want to look at it in the first place?" He asks, eyes narrowing in accusation.

"What? Am I not allowed to?" Changbin asks defensively, and Jisung shrugs.

"I don't know, man. It's just a bit weird since it's a painting of me and Minho kissing."

He's purposefully riling Changbin up, and the older man takes the bait exactly as planned.

"Hey!" he exclaims, "It's a good artwork – and, and I also read that fanfiction!"

"I didn't make you read it!" Jisung counters, but a wide smile pulls on his lips, and he ends up bringing Changbin into the laundry room to show him. In general the painting is quite sizable, so in the small space it looks comically large, taking up a large portion of one of the walls. Changbin stares at it for a second, before turning away.

"What, that's it?" Jisung asks, incredulous, but Changbin ignores him, a heavy hand coming to rest on Jisung's shoulder.

"You really need to confess to him," he says, with the same serious tone he gets in all of these conversations, and Jisung scrunches up his face.

"Don't worry, hyung. I will," he says, "… One day."

Now, Jisung loves his job. He loves having the opportunity to write and release songs, tour the globe, and interact with fans on a level that feels genuine and personal (at least, as personal as personal can be without getting creepy). He loves his group members, the staff that bring their work to life, and, well, the pay isn't bad either.

It's just that – and this goes for just about everything – it can be tiring. Irregular hours, unrealistic expectations, and a compromised private life are all part of the unfortunate reality that he must cope with on a weekly, if not daily basis.

Today is one of those days.

Jisung's phone says it's 4pm when he and Minho stumble into their dorm, though it may as well be 10pm. They've been up and about since light started to peek over the horizon, and have had barely any time to rest, constantly moving around with cameras shoved their way. Makeup is still caked onto Jisung's face, sweaty and smudged, and it feels like a disgusting extra layer of skin – suffocatingly itchy. If he doesn't scrub it off in the next five minutes, he may just lose his mind.

Minho isn't in much better shape, as he falls to lean against the nearest wall, head knocking into it with a dull thud. His eyes stare into the distance, unseeing, and his shoulders slump, worn out.

"Hyung?" Jisung asks, the implication clear. Minho nods, and that's all Jisung needs, before he's in his room, pulling out a random shirt, boxers, and the shorts that he's reserved for lazing about in over the past week.

Their dorm, although more spacious than most apartments in the heart of Seoul, only has one bathroom, naturally forcing them to take turns. On tiring days it can come down to a painful game of rock, paper, scissors, though it would seem Jisung's in luck today, with Minho too zoned out to care.

Jisung isn't ashamed to admit that he rushes with the make-up remover, because the state of it being off is far more important to him than the process of achieving such. Once in the shower, the warm water streams refreshingly over his skin, softening the tightness in his muscles, and clearing away the stress that had built up in his temple. He scrubs at his skin until it feels clean, and steps out of the shower a new man – ready to slump somewhere and relax for an indeterminate amount of hours.

Minho is quick to shuffle into the bathroom after him, and Jisung soon finds himself standing awkwardly in the middle of the dorm, unsure of where to go. The couch is the obvious option, if a bit overdone. He could sit at the kitchen island, though he isn't exactly hungry, and the seats aren't designed for weary slumping. He could lie in his room, which is also quite overdone, but- oh wow it's a bit cold, isn't it?

Despite the sun shining in through the windows, a distinct chill sits in the air, and goosebumps quickly raise on Jisung's exposed skin. His pursuit of a place to slump is quickly replaced with the pursuit of a jumper, and before he knows it, he's staring into his closet, eyes raking over the selection available.

Jisung has some great jumpers – this is undeniable, but as he sorts through them, he finds that they're all… lacking, in some capacity.

Too drapey… too short… wrong colour… not warm enough…

The frustration that settles in his gut at this setback isn't serious, but does cause an exasperated sigh to leave his chest. He almost gives up and reaches for the nearest one, regardless of its flaws, when a solution blinks to life in his mind. A lightbulb moment, if you will.

Minho-hyung has jumpers too.

Large, comfortable jumpers that also happen to smell like him.

It's the perfect opportunity.

Quietly pacing into the older man's bedroom, it catches his eye immediately. A well-worn, dark blue jumper, lying on the end of his bed, practically asking to be stolen. Pulling it on is akin to being wrapped in a warm hug, and he imagines wearing it while sipping hot chocolate by a fireplace, peacefully reading fanfiction on his phone.

Content, Jisung makes his way back into his own room, and flops onto the bed, letting out a long breath. Now he can melt into a calm, stress free end of the day, and unwind like one of those vacuum-sealed mattresses.

As it turns out, he's a fool.

"You're wearing my jumper," Minho says from the doorway, and Jisung jolts, because his head had been buried in his notes app, and hadn't even registered the shower turning off. He quickly sits up, skirting to the end of the bed, and takes in Minho's damp hair and casual clothes – grey sweatpants and a loose black T-shirt. He looks good.

"And?" Jisung responds, eyebrows raised.

"And I was going to wear it," Minho explains, and Jisung examines the expectant expression on his face. He thinks that Jisung is going to apologise for his mistake and promptly hand it over – which he could. Incredibly easily.

But that wouldn't be very fun, would it?

Jisung makes a show of looking down at the jumper, before shrugging and flashing a smile.

"Mine now."

Minho raises an eyebrow but surprisingly doesn't push it, instead padding softly back into his own room. Jisung chuckles, returning to his notes.

Once again, he's a fool.

"Nope," Minho says, back in the doorway, "I need that one."

This time, Jisung turns off his phone, and tosses it onto the bed somewhere behind him. Minho's hands are on his hips, and Jisung sets aside a brief second to appreciate how it showcases the contours of his waist before responding.

"You have plenty of jumpers," he points out.

"So do you," Minho counters, but Jisung shakes his head.

"Mine are all bad. I need this one."

Minho takes a step forward, and Jisung's heart skips a beat. It's such a simple movement, and yet under Jisung's skin, pinpricks of energy begin to buzz.

"Take it off," Minho says. His tone isn't dangerous – not yet, but it's definitely headed in that direction. Jisung swallows, but resolutely shakes his head.

"Jagi."

Now that's a warning. There's a playful undercurrent to it, but this is Minho that Jisung is dealing with. He's not afraid to use force.

Jisung shuffles back further onto the bed, but remains undeterred.

"You don't even mind the cold. What could you possibly want to do with this old thing?"

At that, Minho's eyebrow twitches.

"I put it on my bed because I wanted to wear it. It's not a difficult concept to understand, jagi."

Then, Jisung breaks his record for 'most foolish thing done yet'.

Piercing Minho with a playful stare, he puts on a brash, cocky tone, and says, "Well then you're gonna have to take it off me, aren't you, jagi?"

Like a switch has been flipped, Minho's demeanour changes. The look in his eyes shifts to something calculated – feline, almost.

A chill runs down Jisung's spine.

Minho starts walking forwards, and with each slow step Jisung shuffles backwards onto the bed. Farther and farther back he goes, but knows that it's only a matter of time until he hits the headboard.

This may be a mistake, he thinks, but then snaps himself out of it. This isn't a mistake. This is push and pull in its greatest form.

By the time Minho's made it to the foot of the bed, a wide grin has settled on his lips, like a big cat gleefully stalking its prey.

But Jisung is no prey.

"Is this all you've got?" He asks, and Minho lets out a humoured breath, but Jisung isn't finished.

"You've barely even moved. I'm starting to think that you don't even w--AHH!" He yells, because somehow within the span of a millisecond Minho has gone from 'perched by the foot of the bed' to 'almost completely on top of him', and Jisung's heart has burst into action – electricity coursing through his veins.

With wide eyes and a flood of adrenaline, he rolls to the side. Minho may be taller than him, but Jisung is swift. Nimble. Although Minho had almost managed to cage him in, Jisung's movements catch him off guard, and he gets knocked to the side. Refusing to be deterred so easily, however, Minho quickly gets a hold of Jisung's wrist before he can draw fully away. With a burst of strength, (likely the result of his fight-or-flight response kicking in), Jisung tears his arm free, desperately making a dash for the edge of the bed.

It's no use.

Just as he sits up to slide onto solid ground, the tight grasp of Minho's arms around his waist draws him backwards and he yelps, disoriented by the sudden change in direction. Vaguely, he registers Minho laughing at his victory.

But it isn't over yet.

Using Minho's momentum, he pushes the older man back against the bed, and the spring from the mattress causes his grip to loosen, just enough for Jisung to fling himself forwards, pushing up and off away from the bed.

He lands heavily on the floor, but doesn't stick around to see what Minho is up to. Instead, he dashes out of his bedroom, scrambling into the living area and then the furthest corner of the kitchen.

Senses heightened, he can hear Minho slowly sliding off the bed, and the light thud of his feet hitting the carpet.

Despite his rapid breathing, a giggle escapes from Jisung's chest, and a wide smile pulls on his lips. It's as though his earlier weariness has dissipated entirely, replaced with a buzzing anticipation. An adrenaline fuelled excitement.

Evidently Minho feels the same, for the eager expression remains on his face as he emerges into the kitchen, shaking his head.

"What?" Jisung taunts, "Did you think it would be that easy? I'm disappointed, jagi."

"I was going to hold myself back," Minho responds, cracking his neck, "but clearly someone needs to put your ego in check."

When Minho walks towards him, Jisung thinks that he has the air of a supervillain. Like a powerful being that resides in a lair, insidious and capable of mass destruction. A genuine thrill fills Jisung's body at the thought – his fight-or-flight still locked in and ready to go.

They find themselves at the kitchen island, with Minho on one far end and Jisung on the other. It's a simple tactic, but Jisung uses the bench to his advantage, darting in the opposite direction to Minho every time he tries to make a move. Jisung doesn't waste this opportunity, throwing out lines like "Come on hyung, you can do better than that!" and "I thought you were supposed to be chasing me." Minho staunchly ignores them, but eventually gets fed up with the predicament, flinging himself around the island with an arm out as fast as he can muster. For a breathtaking moment his fingers catch on the jumper, but Jisung pulls away hastily enough that it slips from his grasp, and sprints as fast as he can towards the living area.

Minho, now having given up on slowly stalking him, chases Jisung at full speed, and Jisung can't help the laughs that bubble up in his throat. He feels almost crazed – lightheaded yet fully alert, zigzagging through the dorm with more energy than he'd put towards a run through of LALALALA.

In an act of insane parkour, Jisung jumps over the couch, putting just enough distance between him and the older man to take a chance and dash back towards his room-intending to lock the door behind him. It all falls through when he's a millisecond too late – Minho pushing the door open before Jisung has a chance to click it shut.

The force sends Jisung stumbling backwards, disoriented, but he's caught by Minho's firm grip, and before he knows it they've made it back to the bed, Jisung tumbling to land on his back while Minho quickly grabs his wrists, pinning them down at his sides. Head spinning, another laugh tries to fall from Jisung's lips, but dies in his throat when he realises that, well, Minho is pinning him to a bed.

The air fills with their mingling breaths, heavy from exertion, and Jisung's lungs sit uncomfortably warm in his chest, but he truly couldn’t care less about such a thing at this moment. Rather, his attention is preoccupied by the… precarious nature of their position, and a desperate attempt to restrain the heat that threatens to flood his body.

Belatedly, he tries to pull away, but Minho's hold stays firm, and his eyes bore down into Jisung's own.

"Oh? Are you stuck?" he asks, tone dripping with faux sympathy, and Jisung hates the way that he blushes. Hates the way that their proximity has already turned his mind into a jumbled mess. Unable to maintain eye contact, he tilts his head to the side, and musters up the courage to say something along the lines of “Well done, hyung. You won", or "Alright, I lost. You can let go of me now", or "Hyung, the genre of our interaction is going to change if you keep this up."

As it turns out, Minho is already three steps ahead of him, hands disappearing from Jisung's wrists to grab the hem of the jumper, swiftly dragging it up to expose his shirt underneath.

Jisung's head snaps forward again, eyes wide and heart stuttering in his chest, but he can't bring himself to move. It's as though a phantom version of Minho is still pinning him down, locking him in place and swallowing the key.

He just wants the jumper, Jisung reminds himself as Minho pulls the fabric further and further up, but is halted in his reassurance when Minho falters, pausing momentarily. If Jisung was thinking straight, he'd recognise that the jumper is bunched up over his chest and his arms are by his sides, so it's impossible for the garment to come off if he doesn't move.

But Jisung isn't thinking straight, and evidently Minho isn't either, because one of the older man's hands comes to rest on a sliver of exposed skin by Jisung's navel. The touch is light, but Jisung's body is wracked with a shiver and he tenses, swallowing.

He needs to say something.

"Hyung?" he breathes, but Minho isn't looking his way. Due to his position lying down, Jisung's view is limited to the crown of Minho's head, so he opts to instead stare at the ceiling.

"Jagi," Minho says. His bold tone from before has disappeared, instead replaced with something quieter, and infinitely more intimate, "You should get a tattoo here."

His fingers press into the skin of Jisung's lower stomach, and an electric shock shoots up Jisung's spine.

This is fine this is fine this is fine this is-

Tilting his head up, Jisung strains to see where the other man is referring to, but it's impossible with how they're situated. Technically Jisung could sit up, but he won't.

"Where?" he manages to ask, though it comes out weakly.

Instead of answering with words, Minho presses into the skin with a nail, and Jisung's breath catches in his throat. Then, tantalisingly slowly, Minho starts dragging the nail downwards, towards his pelvis.

Holy shit

Are they going to have sex? Is that where this is heading? Because Jisung wouldn't be opposed, but he hasn't really had a chance to prepare himself mentally for it so he's not sure what kind of configuration he'd prefer to end up in, or what kind of things Minho likes, or where any non-platonic intimacy sits in relation to their whole situation, or-

Minho's finger stops just below his waistband and pauses. Jisung's heartbeat thumps loudly in his chest, and his eyes are locked absently on the ceiling, focus trained on the man above him.

Defying Jisung's expectations, Minho simply huffs out a humoured breath and pulls on the waistband slightly so that it snaps back into place, before standing up straight once more.

"I've changed my mind," he says lightly.

Although reeling, Jisung is finally freed from his shackles, and props himself up on his elbows, dazedly staring at the older man.

"...Huh?" He unintelligently asks, and Minho snorts.

"The jumper," he clarifies, "You can wear it."

"...Oh," Jisung responds, and that's that. Minho gives him one last glance before casually leaving the room, hands slipping into his pockets.

It takes a few minutes for Jisung's heartbeat to fall back into its normal pattern, though this process is continuously interrupted by memories of the entire ordeal.

That was crazy.

Also hot.

Also…

Yep.

Minho is definitely winning this competition.

When Jisung saw the advertisement for a new cat cafe in Seoul, a walkable distance from his and Minho's dorm, it became certain in his mind that they ought to visit it as soon as humanly possible. He took a photo of it and informed the older man as if on autopilot, as if this was some calling from the universe created specifically with them in mind.

Minho had simply sent back an outline of his upcoming schedule, and Jisung luckily found a time the next week for them to check it out. Beyond the constraints of their usual schedule, Minho is set to go to Japan for a photoshoot in fifteen days and twelve hours – not that Jisung has been counting. He also definitely hasn't been dreading the five days of physical separation that will occur, and the fact that Minho will probably be too busy to message him much. Jisung had initially considered asking to tag along, but he unfortunately has things booked in for the stretch of days, and doesn't want the fans to think that he's involved with the photoshoot in any capacity.

So, he silently laments the future – something that Minho has certainly picked up on by now, but hasn't felt the need to ask about.

Bright morning sun shines in through the windows as they prepare to go to the cafe, energy levels higher than usual for obvious reasons. Minho has been restless leading up to this, whining about how much he wants to see the cats, and how his health and life quality will exponentially improve as soon as he does so. Jisung can't help but to agree, though his mind is currently preoccupied with sudden developments in his personal life.

"Oh," Jisung says, looking up from his phone, "My cousin got engaged."

It's not as though it's an outlandish occurrence – she's old enough, and has been in a steady relationship for quite some time. It's just that she also happens to be around Jisung's age, which really puts into perspective how different his life as an idol is to that of… everyone else. He locks eyes with Minho across the room. The older man is dressed in casual jeans, converse and the jumper that Jisung now has horrifically vivid memories attached to, and a black facemask sits low on his chin – ready to be pulled up when they go out into the crowded city streets.

"Which cousin?" Minho asks, but Jisung shakes his head.

"You haven't met her. She lives overseas... In Singapore, I think?"

Jisung lets his eyes unfocus, thinking back to the few large family gatherings he's attended in recent years. "Wow... Time really flies," he says lightly, "It's been ages since I last spoke to her."

Minho hums in understanding, leaning down to undo and re-tighten his shoelaces. Memories from the past flash through Jisung's mind, and he's hit with a rush of nostalgia, but a fond smile settles on his lips.

"It's funny though, hyung, I remember we used to plan our future weddings – what colours we wanted things to be, what sort of venue. It's crazy how much we've grown since then."

He laughs, "If she doesn't make everything purple I'm going to call her out for it."

But Minho doesn't laugh along with him, doesn't let out a humoured huff – doesn't respond at all, actually. He's gone eerily quiet on the other side of the room, and Jisung focuses back in on their current reality. Minho's face is frustratingly obscured by the angle, but it doesn't seem like anything is wrong. Maybe he just tuned out what Jisung was saying.

Then, Minho stands up quickly, having finished fiddling with his shoes, and pointedly looks over at him.

"Are you ready to go?"

Jisung snaps himself out of it, and flashes Minho a smile.

"Yeah, just give me a second. I need to get a few things from my room."

They can get to the café multiple different ways, but considering how nice the weather is, they decide to take a roundabout path, simply enjoying walking and talking together, side by side. The path leads them into a large stretch of parkland, filled with trees and benches and a playground for children and families. Shadows of leaves dance joyfully on the ground, and a light breeze floats around them, bringing a fresh scent to the air that clears Jisung's mind and is a refreshing break from the stuffiness of the city.

"You could get one of the non-poisonous ones," he suggests, in response to Minho's explanation of what reptiles he would and wouldn't consider buying.

"It could still escape and bite my cats though," Minho counters, and Jisung huffs a laugh.

"Snakes don't even have arms to escape with! And there are plenty of small ones available. All I'm saying is that snakes and lizards aren't that different to look after."

Minho makes a sound along the lines of I-don't-agree-with-you-but-don't-care-enough-to-argue, which Jisung decides is good enough. Glancing up at the older man, Jisung notices that a dead leaf has gotten stuck in his hair, so he reaches up to brush it away.

Just then, a high-pitched giggle sounds in the distance, drawing both of their attention. Up ahead, a family is entering the park, bags of food in hand alongside what seems to be a picnic blanket. The group consists of (what Jisung assumes to be) two grandparents, two parents, and their daughter – old enough to walk around, but still considerably young. It's a sweet sight, and, well, Jisung has always been a hopeless romantic. There's just something so hopeful about seeing functional, happy families. Thanks to South Korea's political climate it's becoming less and less common, so he's glad that the woman has managed to find a man she's happy to build a future with. Of course, they could have plenty of issues that he doesn't know about, but he's in too good of a mood to think about that.

As they draw closer, he makes sure to avert his gaze (naturally unwilling to come across as creepy), but from the corner of his eye, he notices with a warm heart that the parents are holding hands. Glancing up, he finds Minho also looking at the family, albeit somewhat discreetly too. Jisung can't help the smile that settles on his lips, and he itches to reach out and grab the older man's hand, but the rational part of his brain knows that it's not a good idea.

Still, seeing the potential to grow old and be happy with the people around you… Jisung's mind floods with images of Stray Kids in 40, 50 years' time. With wrinkles around their eyes and greying hair, but microphones in their hands all the same. Minho specifically, aged by time but perpetually young in personality, making the same jokes and jabs as he would now, constantly balancing the need to be mature and the desire to play around like a kid.

It does something to Jisung's chest – the thought of Minho growing older. Of them growing older together. Like there's a pressure on his heart – a subtle ache. It's almost as though he's nostalgic for the present, knowing that one day they'll be too weak to dance, too weary to tour as frequently as they do now. Knowing that one day he'll look back at photos of Minho and be overwhelmed by how young he looked, and how smitten Jisung himself was even back then. He'll get fond flashbacks to the Ferris Wheel non-date, and perhaps even this very trip to the cat café, to this very moment, like some kind of nostalgia-ception.

Minho's eyes flick away from the family, but his expression is flat – unreadable.

Maybe he's also thinking about the future

The café is tucked into the corner of a strip of buildings, with a staircase leading up to its location on the upper floor. Jisung always finds himself nervous going into such buildings, like he's going to be kidnapped or knocked over by some invisible entity and go tumbling down the stairs. Regardless, they both press forwards, buzzing with the knowledge that cats are mere metres away.

It's even better than he'd anticipated.

Despite the cramped pathway up, the café itself is fairly spacious, with a high roof and pathways built along the walls for the cats to use. From a general aesthetic standpoint, it's clean but pretty, with light wooden furniture and cute pastel decorations, and posters of the individual cats are stuck all around, with more informative guides available in pamphlet form on the front desk.

As for the cats – there are fourteen in total, a general mix of Ragdolls, Munchkins, Burmese, Maine Coons, Short Hairs, Tabbys, and Tuxedos. There's one black cat as well, which catches Jisung's eye as soon as he walks in. It's perched up on one of the pathways, looking down and overseeing the people and animals below. It's cute. On an unrelated note, it kind of reminds him of Minho.

After being seated down at one of the tables, a worker outlines the rules for interacting with the cats, and gives them a menu to choose food from. To Jisung's delight, there's cheesecake available, and Minho laughs at his apparently exaggerated reaction to such. They wind up ordering cat-themed bubble tea, the cheesecake, and a cat-shaped sponge cake, though Jisung can tell that Minho chose quickly to get it out of the way. Sure enough, once the worker has left, Minho is out of his seat, petting the nearest cat with a wide, fond smile on his lips. Jisung is quick to follow, busying himself with an adorable Tabby cat named Luna.

Though the café isn't very busy, they've luckily been given a table that's out of the way, so when they sit down to receive their food, Jisung doesn't feel any need to restrain the expressions on his face. The cheesecake is good (still not as good as Minho's though), and the sponge cake is adorable, albeit less adorable when Minho stabs into it to reveal raspberry jam, somewhat akin to blood. Conversation flows naturally between them, mostly centred around the cats and the food, until Minho brings up a topic that Jisung has been dreading.

"So you know how I'm going to Japan soon," he says after taking a sip of his drink.

In five days Jisung mentally corrects, though verbally he hums in acknowledgement.

"Do you want anything? Like anime merch or…"

Jisung blinks a few times. Does he want anything?

"…I'll think on it," he eventually replies, because he genuinely doesn't know.

"Alright," Minho responds, "Or…"

He trails off, but Jisung's curiosity has been piqued.

"Or what?"

"Or," Minho says with a devious smile, "I can get you a surprise."

Jisung is embarrassed to admit that his heart flutters at the proposal. He knows that it will likely end up being something weird, but you never know with Minho. It could be a diamond ring.

"Yeah, yeah that works," he says, though the words sound far less slick out loud than in his head.

"Okay, I'll- oh," Minho says, looking down because another cat has made its way over to them.

Quickly distracted, Minho reaches down to pet it, and from the angle, Jisung gets a good view of his hand – tenderly scratching the animal's head. Something flips in his stomach, and he's abruptly reminded of the couple in the park, holding hands. Figuring that there's no harm in doing so at the moment, he doesn't think twice before reaching out to grab Minho's other hand, lifting it off the table to hold it with both of his own.

Minho's hands aren't delicate – he's a dancer and a person who goes out and does things, like hiking and camping and fishing. Despite this, Jisung's hands are larger than his – something he's teased Minho for since they first got to know each other. It's yet another way that they fit together as people – evening the other out. Minho is tall while Jisung is short. Minho has a big upper lip while Jisung has a big lower lip. Jisung's adam's apple is concave while Minho's is convex (a fact that he only knows because of Twitter).

Tentatively, he slots their fingers together, and Minho looks up, startled. A slight heat rises on the back of Jisung's neck due to the embarrassment of doing something so sappy, but it quickly morphs into pride when Minho's expression breaks into a small, pleased smile.

Just then, a worker approaches them again, and they quickly break apart. As it turns out, the worker is just checking in to see if they want anything else, which they don’t. The time for playing with cats has returned, as is evident in Minho's rush to get to a group of three cats, which all cuddle up to him like he's the cat-whisperer Jisung has always suspected him to be. Jisung remains in his seat for the moment, absentmindedly petting a cat by his leg while watching Minho's actions.

Minho fishes out his phone from his pocket with one hand, and uses it to take photos of the cats from angles that Jisung is almost certain will be unflattering. Regardless, a sense of contentment sits in his heart, endeared by Minho's love for the animals, and equally endeared by the happy expression on his face, pure and unrestrained.

This is how things are supposed to be, Jisung realises. This is how I'm supposed to live. Right here, by his side.

It's a sentiment that he's understood intrinsically for quite some time, but has only just been able to articulate. He wants to live with Minho into the future, and grow old together like the family in the park. He wants to stare into Minho's eyes on stage and smile, and then kiss him to death once they've found a spot alone. He wants to make sure that Minho is always safe, and put in effort to bring happiness to his life.

I love him.

The fond smile on Jisung's lips slips away, prompted by a kind of lurching sensation in his chest, and soon the ambience of the cafe is drowned out by the beating of his heart.

Love.

Holy shit.

The word itself feels surreal and immense and yet… and yet completely and unequivocally true.

It's as though everything clicks into place in his mind. He doesn't just 'like' Minho. It isn't some silly crush. Honestly, he isn't entirely sure how he's gone this far believing that 'like' is an appropriate descriptive word at all. In the timeline of his and Minho's relationship, it somehow feels too early to come to such a realisation and yet entirely too late. As though it's been there the entire time and Jisung has just been meandering carelessly blind, infuriatingly unaware.

Love is such a strong word, and Jisung is so young and naïve and for so long felt like he didn't fit into this world... But he loves Minho, this much is true.

Well, he always has – as a friend, as a soulmate. He's told Minho countless times through offhanded proclamations, but this is different. This brings with it such a strong sense of belonging, such a strong sense of truth.

It's not love like in the films. It's not a case of seeing Minho through rose tinted glasses – rather it's the opposite. He's been with Minho through thick and thin. They've seen each other at their best and at their worst, and come out on the other end not unscathed, but together.

He loves Minho, with all of his quirks and all of his flaws. He understands Minho, as bizarre and wild and unpredictable as he can be. He wants to stay with him.

I love him.

Across the room, Minho smiles as more cats make their way over to him.

I love him so much

Gradually, as if Minho is some kind of animal magnet, all of the cats direct their attention towards him, and he quickly becomes swarmed by the masses of small adorable fluffy creatures.

I love him so, so fucking much

A panicked worker jogs over to Minho to disperse the cats, and Jisung laughs as the older man finally escapes them, covered in fur but ceaselessly overjoyed. Jisung notices belatedly that the only cat which didn't swarm over to him was the black one, which happens to be staring down at Jisung himself instead. They make eye contact, but Jisung's not an animal whisperer so he can't tell what it's thinking. He hopes it doesn't hate him.

Minho continues playing with a few of the animals, but a buzz in Jisung's pocket distracts him from his musings.

Hwang Hyunjin: Update your fic

Jisung huffs in amusement, though he understands where the sentiment is coming from. Not only does he still not know how to end the story, but the more complex the plot is inevitably becoming, the less he's been writing. It's relieving to have Hyunjin nag him about it, because otherwise he'd likely never get around to finishing what he knows he can.

Opening his notes app, Jisung scrolls through his plans for the next chapter. He's reached a point in the story where the plan is well in action, and there are so many characters to keep track of, so much that needs to make sense so as to not have readers say 'couldn't they just have done [insert other thing]?'. It hurts his brain sometimes.

"What's that?" Minho's voice asks from startlingly near and Jisung jumps, reflexively turning off his phone. Minho quirks an eyebrow, sitting back down across from him, and he's still covered in fur – the dark blue jumper clearly displaying such.

"You must be a cat whisperer," Jisung tries to change the topic, "I can't believe they all went over to you."

"Is it more anime fanfiction?" Minho asks, undeterred, and Jisung's heart stops, but he ultimately decides to lean into the idea. Minho has given him an out, so he'll take it.

"Yeah, I mean… yeah," he says, and then when he feels that was a bit awkward, "Sorry, I forgot that you knew about that."

It's a complete lie, but Minho seems to believe it. The older man runs a hand through his hair, face scrunching.

"I'm trying to think… the fanfiction that my friend sent me a while back. It was good, but I can't remember… I think it was about Evangelion? …Yeah, it was about Evangelion."

Jisung's eyes widen, "Oh? What was the plot? Maybe I've read it."

Minho strains to think again, before exclaiming, "Ah! I've got it. It was a story where Shinji somehow became an Angel and had to grapple with the kind of… conflicts and moral complications that come with that. It was good."

It sounds good

"I'll see if I can ask my friend for a link," Minho suggests, and Jisung realises that he'd spoken aloud.

"Thanks," Jisung says, and then their conversation drifts into more of a discussion about Minho's hometown friends and when he next plans to go see them.

They finish up at the cat café with light hearts, and Minho decides to buy an available packet of cat-shaped cookies on their way out. While he does so, Jisung is startled to feel a weight bump harshly into his shin. When he glances down, he finds that it's the black cat, and he can't help the grin that falls onto his face. With a warm heart he crouches down, scratching it behind the ear. He doesn't know what its name is, but such a fact feels barely relevant now that its cute eyes are staring up at him.

"Alright," Minho says, pacing back over to him, cookies in hand, "let's go."

They always seem to wind up back on their couch, snuggly pressed together, side by side, as though attempting to assimilate into one another. The piece of furniture itself is only just beginning to show signs of wear, having been purchased around the time of their shift into the dorm; a stain from Jisung's coffee on one arm, a small tear where Minho's zipper had somehow gotten caught, and softer cushions that perfectly meld to the weight placed upon them. It doesn't have any discernible scent beyond hints of sweat from after dance practice, which Jisung feels is for the best. He can't count the amount of times he's fallen asleep, laid stretched out across the cushions, face buried into the cosiest corner he can find. It's become somewhat of a second bed.

Now, they lie against the backrest, drenched in the low light of the evening, and the golden glow of a lamp. Jisung sits to Minho's right, head leant into his shoulder and hands fiddling with the cuffs of his jumper. From the proximity, he can smell their shared detergent on Minho's clothes – a scent labelled 'Fresh and Clear', without any further description. It's a pleasant scent – not too overpowering – and Jisung has vivid memories of Minho in the store, pulling it off the shelf with such certainty that Jisung had assumed he'd used it before. He hadn't, but luck was on their side when they both wound up liking it.

Before them, the television plays a documentary on Canadian wildlife, brightly illuminating the space with the whites and blues of snowy landscapes. Jisung's mind has been going back and forth for the last ten minutes, desperate yet unable to choose between two points of focus.

The first point is rather obvious. Jisung himself had chosen the documentary from his watchlist, as he wasn't in the mood to focus on anything action-packed. He adores animals and wildlife, and is genuinely interested in the discussion of mammals taking place on screen, to the extent that he really is trying to pay attention.

The second point is far smaller and far less significant, but fights valiantly for his attention all the same.

Minho's arm slung around his shoulder, hand on his nape, fingers absentmindedly-playing with his hair. Memories from the day accompany the soft touches and tugs, fluttering through Jisung's mind all pink and fluffy and perfect. Minho's steady heartbeat pulses through his skin into Jisung's, sinking into Jisung's soul- grounding him, tethering him to the Earth despite a desperate desire to let helium joy carry him up and away into the sky.

I love him.

The words still don't feel quite real, but warm affection has long settled in his heart – intense and all-consuming, yet as mindless and simple as breathing.

Jisung returns his attention to the television.

"Light on his feet, the coyote returns to his den. He uses one of the back entrances, dug alongside a plethora of others to ensure that an escape route is always available. In the den, the pups are waiting – hungry for the food he's gathered-"

Jisung can't restrain the smile that pulls on his lips at the sight of the small animals, piled up in a cosy, sleepy pile. It's fascinating, learning how different animals treat their young – the expectations that are placed on creatures that have only just come into the world. Take turtles, for example, the babies forced to run for their lives seconds upon breaking through the surface of the sand. Similarly, fawns must stumble to their feet as soon as they can, the herd unable to remain in one area for too long.

"His wife arrives soon after, having also collected food. Coyotes are monogamous animals, loyally mating for life unlike many other presumably monogamous species that were later found to be cheating, such as arctic foxes and mountain bluebirds. This bond is evident as they both look after the pups, even displaying bird-like tendencies when-"

Jisung realises belatedly that he's pulled Minho's hand down over his shoulder and interlocked their fingers without thinking. Glancing briefly up, the older man shows no sign of caring, so Jisung turns back to the documentary.

He watches as the two coyotes reunite, nudging one another with their snouts and pressing their bodies closely together. The narrator says that it’s a display of affection. That these two coyotes will stick together until one of them dies, and only after a period of mourning will consider finding another mate. That they're one of very few species to do so.

It's second nature, the way that his grip on Minho's hand tightens. The way that he presses his head further into Minho's shoulder, a content breath leaving his lips.

What isn't second nature, is the quickening of Minho's heartbeat. A once-steady pulse jolting into something faster, something involuntary and telling and mind consuming now that Jisung has noticed it.

He glances up, just in time to see Minho swallow, jaw clenching slightly with the movement.

He's nervous.

Jisung's eyes widen and he falters, slowly leaning away from Minho's shoulder, sitting slightly up. He doesn't detach their hands. Doesn't think he could, even if he wanted to.

But something is going to happen.

He can sense it.

Jisung knows that Minho can feel him looking – can see him from the corner of his eye. The older man pretends to keep watching the television for a moment, until the anticipation sitting in the air becomes too much and he wordlessly reaches for the remote, a slight tremble noticeable in the movement. Minho doesn't bother pausing the documentary, instead turning off the device and drenching them in the low light of the room. The sudden silence is deafening.

He turns to face Jisung, and when their eyes lock, Jisung finds a hint of fear in them. A clear nervousness that causes his own heart to stutter, aching to reach out and reassure him.

Time stretches out between them, tangible and dragging ever so slowly. Jisung's breaths come shallow and silent.

Waiting for Minho to say something.

Anything.

Distantly, he registers that Minho's hand, tightly clasped in his own, is sweating. He squeezes it again, a wordless message of encouragement.

Minho swallows once more, determination now tinting his gaze. Jisung can barely breathe, drowning in his dark brown irises.

This is really happening.

"Jisung-ah," Minho says quietly, but it echoes endlessly around them, "You really like me, don't you?"

Something hitches in Jisung's chest, uncomfortable.

'Like'.

No, he thinks, that's wrong. It’s more than that.

Already, he can't stand the sound of that word. Especially not now, as his pathetic romantic heart threatens to burst from his chest. As his soul sits, vulnerable, in the palm of Minho's hands.

So Jisung shakes his head.

It's a subtle movement, but before Minho can take it the wrong way, he moves, turning to face the older man properly, and shifts up closer, bringing them face to face.

Minho's eyes widen and he flinches back slightly, but steadies himself.

"Try again," Jisung quietly says.

Minho inhales, discreet but shaky.

He knows.

Jisung can tell.

In this moment, their minds are connected by an intangible thread, merging together as one. Still, seconds pass before Minho's voice breaks through the silence, barely a whisper.

"You really love me, don't you?"

Jisung hums in confirmation, nodding a little, but his hand in Minho's tightens painfully, and his heart jackrabbits in his chest. He's trying so hard to be confident. To be forward and open and honest with his feelings, but truth be told, he's fucking terrified.

He has no idea what he's doing.

He's so completely out of his depth, and needs Minho to tell him that he hasn't fucked up. That this is the right thing for him – for them – to be doing.

Minho's eyes flutter shut, eyelashes fanning against his skin, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

A spike of anxiety tears through Jisung's chest. He doesn't know what to do, or how to take this. It's not an explicitly positive response, which is indescribably frightening.

But then, Minho's eyes have opened again, his brows have furrowed, and suddenly Jisung is moving. Suddenly the arm around his neck is pulling him forwards and the plush sensation of Minho's lips are slotting against his own.

Oh

We're kissing

As soon as that fact registers, Jisung leans in further, eyes closing, the warmth of Minho's lips pulling him forwards. The touch is simple, soft, but it satisfies an aching craving in Jisung's chest, and he realises abruptly that this implies… this implies-

Elation, pure and unbridled, floods his body. Letting go of Minho's hand, he hastily brings his palm up to Minho's jaw, cupping it, dragging him closer, closer, closer, until it's overwhelming and he can't breathe and he's forced to pull back.

Jisung's lips tingle and his heart soars in his chest. After all of this time, all of this pining and push and pull and back and forth, they've finally… He takes in a deep breath, and an involuntary giggle falls from his lips when he smiles, leaning back to see-

Minho, eyes glossy with unshed tears, expression indiscernible.

… huh?

And just like that, the thread snaps. Like whiplash, Jisung's smile slips away from his face and he stills, tense.

He-

He never cries, so why…

Jisung's chest caves in, collapsing into something hollow and anxious.

Is something wrong?

Did I do something wrong?

It's no surprise that tears soon blur his own vision, thick and hot and spilling out over onto his cheeks. He always has been too empathetic.

Through the swimming, hazy view Jisung sees Minho's mouth fall open and his eyebrows raise. As though he's surprised that Jisung feels so strongly. Loves so strongly. His hands come to rest on Jisung's cheeks, warm and soft, thumbs wiping at the tears, but it's a ceaseless stream.

"Hyung," Jisung says, pathetic to his own ears, "Why are we crying? What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Minho says, but his tone wavers. He seems to scramble, unsure of what to do, but eventually leans up to press a chaste kiss to Jisung's forehead, before drawing back to stare into his eyes.

"Nothing is wrong, okay?" He says again, this time stronger. More resolute, "Nothing."

Jisung realises with a start that Minho's tears are gone. That they never fell.

Again, time seems to stretch between them. It itches and aches and keeps itching again and again and again until Jisung is fed up with it. He only vaguely registers himself leaning forwards, bringing their lips together once more. This time is different to the first, tainted by emotion and a muddled mind, but an insatiable desire for connection shines through, brings warmth to his skin and hurry to his movements. Minho inhales sharply and responds in turn, hands slipping to tangle in Jisung's hair, firm and certain and reassuring. The way they kiss is messy and imperfect and yet holds more words than Jisung could ever hope to say. Again and again until he's breathless, hands shakily gripping Minho's clothes, addicted to the sensation. It's overwhelming, and when they finally part, foreheads knocking together, their chests heave, lungs burning. Jisung's tears are gone, but he's brimming with another emotion.

Minho already knows that Jisung loves him, has already acknowledged it, but Jisung needs to say it again. Say it himself. The words claw their way out of his throat, desperate and frantic and fast.

"Hyung I love you. I love you so much, so so so-"

Minho cuts him off with a kiss, and when he responds, his voice is raw and rough.

"I feel the same, Jisung-ah. I love…You have no idea how long I..." He trails off, before briefly closing his eyes and shaking his head, "This is insane."

Jisung can't help the laugh that escapes his chest, "You're right, hyung. This is insane. We're insane."

And after a few breathless sighs, silence falls upon them, but it's comfortable and calm and everything it should be. It's a sign that things are okay now, and will continue to be okay, as long as they are side by side. As long as they have each other.

After a moment Minho speaks up again.

"We're like the coyotes."

Jisung shakes his head, but lets out a fond breath and smiles.

"We are."

Chapter Text

Jisung decides to do something that is perhaps long overdue:

Speak about it with Felix.

Now, it's not as though he hasn't had conversations with the man since this whole Minho-situation started – they're friends, so of course he has – but he's never deigned to breach this particular topic with him, too fearful about what could come from it. It's clear that Felix has been aware of Minho's feelings for quite some time, and that the older man has sought comfort through discussion with him. As oblivious as Jisung had been back when jealousy had tinted his vision, he's sensible enough to recognise it now for what it was – and it's precisely for that fact that he's been hesitant. There's a high chance that Felix knows far more than Jisung does regarding Minho's opinions and thoughts about, well, everything, and Jisung doesn't know if he can handle disillusionment in areas that he's content towards.

At the same time, he can no longer hide from the need to prod and pry a bit further than simple conversations with his hyung. Following their incredibly emotional confession, they wound up snuggled under the covers of Jisung's bed, warmth seeping into their skin as they peacefully drifted off to sleep.

Or more specifically – As Minho drifted off to sleep.

Jisung had found himself replaying and replaying and replaying the confession in his mind, brain stuck on one particular moment – the tears that had formed in Minho's eyes. Minho has never been one to cry, especially since their survival show, so witnessing such a heartbreaking glimmer in the older man's eyes had easily sent Jisung's own emotions tumbling. Now, it could be easily chalked up to Minho simply being overwhelmed. Jisung has gathered that he's liked him for quite some time now, and so the simple experience of learning about Jisung's reciprocal affections may have been enough to do it.

On the other hand, he'd seemed quite sad. Not in any kind of devastated way, but an overarching ache was present in the tilt of his eyebrows, the press of his lips. In the moment it had been quite indiscernible, but the more Jisung thinks about it, the sadder the memory of it seems.

It plagues his mind. While he had eventually managed to get to sleep, lulled into slumber by the slow, consistent rise and fall of Minho's chest, he'd found quite soon upon waking that the question was still present in his mind. Thinking that the process of going about his day might clear the rain clouds in his heart, he'd swiftly pushed it to the back of his thoughts and busied himself with other things, but unfortunately life just wasn't going to be that easy. Partway through the day Minho sent him the link to the fanfiction his friend found, which made Jisung think about the cat café, which made him think about the confession, which made him think about the-- Well, you get the idea.

Now, it's late at night. Or rather, it's early morning, as the blinking LED clock on his bedside table reads 1:02am. Minho is tucked in next to him once more, but Jisung is restless and his mind refuses to latch on to anything other than the sad glimmer that had been present in the older man's eyes after they'd first kissed.

He needs to talk to Felix about it.

Surely, considering how much time Minho has spent with him, he'd know what's going on.

Ensuring that he doesn't rouse Minho from his slumber, Jisung slips out of the bed and quietly pads into the kitchen, scrolling to find Felix's contact number on his phone. While it is definitely late, the one-day-younger man frequently stays up until egregious morning hours to game, so it isn't so much a question of if he is up, but rather of if he is available.

Luck is on Jisung's side.

It takes a few rings, but Felix ultimately picks up the phone, his voice rough from yelling at his computer screen for however many hours. Jisung tries to be vague with the motivation behind his request to meet up, preferring to explain himself fully in person, and thankfully Felix doesn't push for specifics. Seungmin is apparently away from their dorm for the night regardless, so Jisung is free to come over, and they can sit and ramble on about whatever until they're too tired to continue.

Before leaving, Jisung takes a piece of scrap paper and writes a short note on it, leaving it on the bedside table so that if he ends up sleeping over, Minho won't be concerned by the lack of his existence in the bed when he wakes up. Not to mention, such a thing is the kind of romanticised act that he's always wanted to try, having seen it done countless times before in dramas and romance anime. (If he adds a small heart at the end, it's nobody else's business).

Felix opens the door with a smile, hair a fluffed mess thanks to his headset. The dorm is dimly lit outside of the kitchen, and they make their way to the dining table, Jisung letting out a sigh as he slumps into one of the seats.

"Want a hot drink?" Felix asks, and Jisung takes a moment to consider. Slight nerves tingle in his limbs at the prospect of their upcoming conversation, so figures it may be helpful, and Felix returns a few minutes later with two hot chocolates in hand. Taking a sip, the warm liquid seeps into Jisung's bones, and his mood immediately begins to lift.

Felix settles down across from him, a question evident in his expression: What do you want to talk about?

Jisung clears his throat.

"So… I don’t know if Minho-hyung told you this yet, but we- ah- kind of- well-"

"You got together?!" Felix exclaims, eyes widening. His accompanying grin radiates like rays of sunshine, and Jisung can't help but to smile as well, the man's happiness as infectious as always. He holds his mug with two hands, and nods.

"Finally!" Felix breathes, leaning back and looking up towards the roof, "I told him again and again and again to confess but he kept saying no! You have no idea how much I've wanted to talk about this with you but couldn't because it would blow his cover!"

Felix swiftly meets his eyes again, leaning forwards over the table, expression eager, "So? How did it go? Did you confess or did he?"

"Well," Jisung starts, thinking back, and can't help the humoured huff that leaves his lips, "It was kind of both of us at the same time. We were watching a documentary and he just… asked me if I liked him."

"Wait," Felix cuts in, "As in, just then? This evening?"

Jisung shakes his head, "Last night."

Felix's face scrunches up in a distantly accusatory expression, "So it's been a whole day and he didn't tell me?! That hyung… Well, anyway. I'm glad that things went well. For a long time he was really concerned about reading the signs wrong."

Jisung's stomach drops, and he's abruptly reminded of his original purpose. Something in his expression must change, because Felix latches on to it immediately, his own face falling and emanating a strong concern.

"What? Did something bad happen?" He asks, tone more serious than Jisung has heard in at least three months, and Jisung hurriedly waves his hands in denial.

"Nothing bad! It went really well overall, just… something confusing happened, which I wanted to ask you about," he explains, "I'd ask him directly, but I don't know if I'm just overreacting, or if it's too sensitive of a topic… or something like that."

"Ah, okay. That's alright then," Felix nods, relaxing back and taking a sip of his drink. Then, belatedly, he says "Ask away!"

"Well…" Jisung says, and scratches the back of his neck.

Where do I even start?

"We were, well, kissing, and- don't look at me like that!" Jisung exclaims, heat already rushing to his cheeks, because Felix has suggestively raised his eyebrows, and Jisung definitely won't be able to focus if he keeps doing so.

"Okay, okay," Felix grins, "So you were kissing, and?"

"… He started crying."

A beat of silence passes.

Felix's jaw drops.

"I mean, at least- kind of?" Jisung rushes to continue, "The tears didn't fall per se, but they were definitely there, and the more I think about it, the more it feels like they were sad tears, but I don't know why he would be sad, so I've been spiralling all night thinking about it."

Felix blinks a few times.

"So… Yeah. I just wanted to see if you knew why," Jisung finishes, voice trailing off, and he distracts himself from reality by taking another swig of his hot chocolate. After a moment Felix seems to reboot, sitting up straighter and furrowing his brows in thought.

"That's… odd," he says, "I got the impression that he was pretty damn happy with how things were going…"

Jisung nods.

"I mean," Felix continues, "He could have just been overwhelmed. He's liked you for as long as I can remember, so the fact that you finally confessed might have been a bit much for him… Though that doesn't make sense considering how close you were to being on the same page, and the fact that he started the conversation."

Jisung nods again, "That's what I was thinking, too – it just doesn't add up."

Felix runs a hand through his hair.

"The last time I saw him in a bad place emotionally was after he lost control during that SKZ Family game and tried to kiss you. He was really upset after that, and figured that distancing himself would be the best option…"

Jisung hums in understanding, though unbeknownst to the other man, his limbs have tensed and his mind is racing on a sudden sideways tangent.

He 'lost control' and 'tried to kiss me'?!

As in, not for the camera?!

But I thought that they just cut the footage…

…Or was there no footage at all?

Now that I think about it, hyung coming second did seem odd…

"-So I set him up with a friend of mine. In hindsight, I should have known it wouldn't do much, but he was insistent about it, so…"

Jisung tunes back in, and immediately his face contorts into a grimace, the bite mark on Minho's neck once again clear in his mind.

"You didn't make it very easy for him," Felix says, though his tone is light hearted, "He was trying to get over you, but you kept being all "hyung, please hug me!""

Jisung lets out an affronted scoff, "No I didn't! I just… wanted things to go back to normal. That's all."

Felix chuckles, "Well, still. He decided to just put up with it as he always had, and see where things would go. At least, that was until he found your fanfiction, and realised that maybe your feelings for him weren't platonic after all, and-… Jisung? You okay?"

A hint of concern tints his voice, evidently taken aback by the pallor that has surely overwhelmed Jisung's face in a matter of seconds.

Truth be told, he doesn't feel okay.

He actually feels rather faint.

Minho has-

He's found-

Minho has found – and read – his fanfiction.

About them.

Falling in love.

In the Joseon dynasty.

There's no way the amount of whiplash that Jisung has experienced in the last few minutes has been healthy for him.

"How-" he says, but it comes out squeaky, so he clears his throat and tries again, "How did he find it? My- ah- story."

"Oh," Felix says, as though it's obvious, "You left it open on your computer. Didn't he tell you?"

Well, fuck.

That was stupid of him.

"But anyway," Felix says, brushing past Jisung's crisis, "I don't know why he would have almost cried. He's been really happy lately, so it doesn't make sense."

Jisung reels his thoughts back into the present, and lets out a sigh.

"Yeah…Oh, well. It was worth a shot. Thanks for being open about it."

"All good," Felix says with a warm smile, "It's been torture keeping this stuff to myself anyway."

From there, their conversation drifts into a more pleasant discussion about all of the ways that Minho has flirted with Jisung over the past weeks, and how their back and forth reached its peak with a literal chase around the dorm. In some ways it's cathartic, being able to pour his emotions out to someone other than Changbin. While the older man has been a great pillar of support, he quickly grew tired of Jisung's lovesick ramblings, while Felix is keen to engage with whatever romance-driven information he puts forth.

Speaking of Changbin, he still doesn't know that the confession occurred. Jisung makes a mental note to tell him in the morning. (Or, well, later in the morning).

Jisung contemplates sleeping over at Felix's dorm, but ultimately decides against it, the mental image of Minho waking up alone (even with the note) too much for him to handle. Thus, once he makes it back home, he staggers tiredly into his room, pulls off his shirt, and slips under the covers as fast as he can. Minho's sleeping form faces away from him, so he snuggles in close, wrapping an arm around the older man's torso and pressing his face against the back of his neck.

Jisung still doesn't have any answers, but speaking with Felix served to quench some of his worries. He can figure out a plan tomorrow, but for now, his eyelids are the heaviest they've ever been.

Before Jisung knows it, he's fallen into a dreamless slumber.

(Later in the morning, Jisung calls Changbin to inform him of the considerably significant development that has occurred in his life. Changbin's celebratory yell echoes through the speaker so loudly it's as though he's in the room with him, and he promises to buy Jisung a meal after their studio work for the day has been completed. Not long after the call ends, Jisung receives a congratulatory text from Chan.)

As arranged, he's devised a plan.

It's a simple plan, really, but if everything goes well, Jisung will have all of the information required to know what exactly was going on with the mid-kiss-almost-cry predicament from the night of their confession.

The plan, which he has mentally dubbed the 'Please Accept Me, Hyung!' plan has three phases.

Phase One: Clear, Direct Communication.

Jisung will approach Minho and ask him about the tears. Theoretically, this should be the only necessary phase of the plan. He won't be pushy about it, but he'll make it clear to his hyung that he's confused and concerned, and would appreciate it if they could clear the air on the matter. Knowing Minho, he may avoid the more serious conversation topic at first, but he's unlikely to outright deny revealing the truth.

Phase Two: Sex Appeal.

Jisung has continued working out, and has maintained an enticing amount of muscle definition in his arms, shoulders, and back. Continuing to draw from fanfiction and any successful flirtation attempts thus far, Jisung will seduce the answer out of Minho. Distract him enough that it simply slips off his tongue when Jisung asks. Of course, the morality of this phase is dubious, but it's not as though he'll get Minho intoxicated at all beforehand. He'll just be sexy enough to get what he wants, which isn't a crime.

Phase Three: Crying.

This phase, unlike the others, will likely not be voluntary. If it gets to the point where all of Jisung's attempts to gauge the truth have been shot down or unsuccessful, he doesn't know how long he'll be able to go on tear-free. If he cries, he cries, and who knows? Minho may just take pity on him.

Unlike 'Please Reject Me, Hyung!", Jisung is working with a three-day time limit for the execution of all required phases. This is because Minho is set to leave for Japan in three days, and as driven as Jisung is, he really cannot be bothered trying to orchestrate this kind of thing over text. Rather, he'll use the time that has been given to him, and get it done as fast as possible. Thus, he finds himself enacting phase one that evening.

Minho stands at the kitchen stove, the sweet, spicy scent of tteokbokki filling the air. It's a craving that Jisung had mentioned off-handedly earlier in the day, and to his delight, Minho has taken it upon himself to fulfill just about any of Jisung's food-related musings. While too much indulgence will likely slow down the achievement of his workout goals, good food is good food, so who is he to deny the offer of a homemade meal? Changbin has already taken him out to eat once today, but Jisung's stomach is a bottomless pit, and tteokbokki is exactly what he needs to fill it.

Shuffling in as close as possible to Minho's side, Jisung peers over at the bubbling red concoction, before sending Minho a question in a silent glance.

"I made it milder than usual," Minho responds without so much as looking over, perfectly tuned in to Jisung's thought process. Without thinking, Jisung finds himself standing on his toes, pressing a fast kiss to the older man's forehead. Naturally, Minho shies away from the sudden contact, but the vivid flush that appears on his ears indicates anything but discontent.

Gosh, Jisung thinks, a fond smile pulling on his lips, I love being able to do that now.

"How long until it's done?" He asks after a moment, and Minho hums in thought.

"Figure it out yourself," he eventually says, and Jisung's eyebrows tilt up from the betrayal.

"You're the one cooking it. How should I know?" He asks, but Minho refuses to back down.

"Look at the ingredients and think about how you want them to be when they're fully cooked. Then, think about how long it's taken for them to get this far."

"But I don't know~" Jisung dramatically grabs Minho's arm, "Why can't you just answer my question normally?"

Minho gives him a sideways glance.

"Because that's not the question you actually want to ask."

He doesn't pose it as a question, or as some kind of amorphous potentiality. Rather, he's read Jisung like a book, and can tell that he's been procrastinating asking about something for as long as possible. Bringing such to light now is both a blessing and a curse, Jisung supposes, as phase one requires far more confidence than he generally has, and Minho has just opened the gate for him to get started.

A sigh escapes his lips, and he tightens his hold on the older man's arm.

"...I've just been thinking," he says, and considers how to smoothly approach the topic before deciding fuck it, I just need to ask. "The other night, when all of that happened, you know how we cried? Or, well I cried, but you almost did?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment, before Minho nods stiffly, his expression growing increasingly distant as he continues stirring the tteokbokki. Jisung pushes onwards.

"Why was that?" He asks, "It's been stuck in my brain – I've tried everything to get it out, I swear, but I just keep thinking about it and thinking about it and thinking about it and thinking about it and-"

"Alright," Minho cuts him off with a huffed laugh, "I get it. It's just…"

His head tilts down, "…Not something I want you to be concerned with. Me getting caught in my own worries."

Jisung decides abruptly that their conversation needs to be had face-to-face, so he tugs Minho's arm to the side, swivelling him around and forcing their eyes to meet.

"Hyung," he says, attempting to adorn his tone with a sense of steadfastness, "Your worries are my worries. You can tell me."

Minho presses his lips into a thin line.

"-And," Jisung continues, "If I remember correctly, we agreed that there would be no more secrets between us. Right?"

That seems to do it, as a look of resignation comes over Minho's expression.

"Well," he says, taking a deep breath, "You… Like women, too. Which isn't an issue – I don't doubt that you like me, it's just… When it comes to relationships, the things that you talk about… well…"

Something heavy starts to settle in Jisung's chest.

The things that I talk about?

"It's just," Minho continues, "So often centred around these ideas of things that you… can have with women. Things that I can't give you… Like kids, and your ideal wedding… and even just on a social level. We can’t be open about any of this, your parents or grandparents might not approve, and we can't, you know, be like that family in the park and I just-"

His voice quietens, and though subtle, a slight waver is discernible in his tone.

"Feel guilty sometimes, is all. Like I'm taking those things away from you."

The heaviness in Jisung's chest bleeds out on the floor around him, and oh god he's crying again. Before he can find time to be embarrassed, however, he's thrown his arms out and pulled Minho down into a bone-crushing hug.

"Hyung!" He exclaims, "I don't need any of that! I know I've mentioned them before, but that was before I'd come to terms with my own feelings. To be honest, this is a really recent revelation for me, so I've been adjusting to the idea, but what I know for sure is that I want to stay with you, regardless of all that!"

He buries his face into Minho's shirt, so his next words come out slightly muffled.

"That family in the park just made me realise how much I love you, hyung. How much I want to grow older with you, which is all that matters! You're not taking anything away from me. Actually, it's the opposite! You've given me so, so much-"

Without warning, Minho jerks around, swivelling to face the stove, and Jisung is tugged harshly along, yelping. Distantly, Jisung registers that the tteokbokki is bubbling over.

Eyes wide, Minho quickly turns off the heat and moves the pan to the side, fixing the issue as suddenly as it had begun. Despite his calm, collected reaction, Jisung can feel Minho's pulse racing under his shirt, and he meets the older man's eyes, a shocked silence sitting between them.

Then, they both start laughing.

Loud, uninhibited laughter, that could be considered an overreaction, but perfectly balances out the tension that had been pulling taught between them. When his stomach begins to hurt, Jisung finds himself detaching from Minho and moving back a little, a content smile settling on his lips as the older man does the same.

"Well," Jisung says lightly, "I'm glad you told me, hyung. I'd have had to seduce it out of you otherwise."

Minho's eyebrows raise, and Jisung rushes to clarify himself.

"-That was the next step in the plan, I mean. If you didn't tell me what your worries were upfront."

Minho takes a moment to consider this, before a glint appears in his eyes, and Jisung's stomach drops. He's seen that look before, and it's always meant trouble.

"You know…" he slowly says, the hint of a smirk tugging on his mouth, "We never actually defined our relationship. Yeah we confessed and kissed and all that, but we didn't label anything…"

Jisung doesn't like where this is going.

"I don't like where this is going," he says.

When Minho next speaks, he's using his signature I'm-saying-something-outlandish-but-acting-as-if-you're-the-weird-one-for-questioning-it tone of voice.

"All I'm saying is that if you were to seduce me, I might consider being your boyfriend."

Now, as much as the term 'boyfriend' coming from Minho's lips sends Jisung's heart spinning away and into a field of clouds and rainbows, the sentiment behind it is one that Jisung simply won't stand for.

"But that's unfair!" he exclaims, "I've been flirting with you this whole time!"

Minho pays him no mind, turning back to the stove to start properly serving the tteokbokki. Jisung, unsure of what else to say, stands and watches as he spoons it into a serving plate, and brings it down to the dining table. Begrudgingly, he follows behind, because his stomach is grumbling, and he's been craving this meal all day, regardless of Minho's proposal.

A few mouthfuls in, Minho speaks up again.

"I'll be in Japan for a little while… See if you can think of something during that time. Maybe it'll keep you occupied in my absence."

Jisung leans back in his chair, eyes widening in disbelief.

"Have I not already seduced you?"

Minho shrugs, and it becomes increasingly apparent that this is not a matter that he's willing to budge on. Jisung internally slaps himself for mentioning the plan – he should have seen this coming. In reality, he'll likely spend the duration of Minho's absence writing his fanfiction and-

Oh!

Right!

Hastily, he swallows a rice cake.

"Hyung!" He exclaims, and Minho meets his gaze, eyes wide and questioning.

"Why didn't you tell me that you found my- my story!"

He can't bring himself to say fanfiction.

The confusion in Minho's expression is quickly replaced with recognition and he snorts, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth.

"Ah, my cover was blown," he says far too casually, "Did Yongbok tell you?"

In light of the note that Jisung had forgotten to get rid of the night before, Jisung had revealed his 1am escapade to the older man without complaint when he'd woken up. Now, he regrets his naivety. A notable warmth creeps up the back of his neck, and he knows that if he were to look in a mirror, he'd likely be flushing bright red.

"I mean- yeah, but-" he stutters, "I can't believe that all this time, I've been writing and you've…"

He trails off, and Minho's humoured expression persists.

"Don’t worry," he says, "It's nice. I can't wait to see how it ends."

"You've read all of it?!" Jisung exclaims, the horror of the situation now clear in his mind, "Hyung!"

Minho simply laughs, and Jisung, fed up, buries his face in his hands.

Why, out of everyone in the world, must this happen to me?

Unfortunately, time passes, and the day comes where Minho must leave for Japan. Minho treats it as if it's no issue while Jisung treats it as if he's leaving for war, and forces Minho to promise to message him at every available opportunity. The irony of this is not lost on him, as he himself will likely be too absorbed in work to message as frequently as he'd like, but at least the sentiment is there.

Before Minho fully zips up his suitcase, Jisung slips one of his own jumpers in, burying it as much as possible to ensure that the surprise isn't spoiled prematurely.

Then, like night and day, Minho is gone. Thanks to his for-you-page, Jisung is able to gush over plenty of high-resolution airport photographs, but the memory of Minho waving him goodbye leaves a dejected tint over the experience, and he finds himself focusing instead on writing the next chapter of his fanfiction. He's finally arrived at the point of tragedy – the sequence of scenes wherein he and Minho are helped by Chan, but Minho's injuries wind up being grave regardless.

Sitting back in his desk chair, Jisung mulls over the events, images flashing through his mind like a movie.

He and Minho, in the back of a cart, soaked and exhausted.

Minho bleeding profusely from a wound on his side, and the panic settling in Jisung's veins at the knowledge that the next town is still far away.

Minho thanking Jisung for everything that he has done for him, and-

Now, you see, Jisung in general is quite an emotional man. Anyone who knows him beyond a fleeting glance is aware of this fact, and it's something that he's come to terms with over the years. When he was younger, he used to fight back his tears with anger (which naturally led to complications), but he's done well with acknowledging his adult emotions for what they are.

Still, it is quite pathetic of him to cry over concepts of a story – scenes that he hasn't even written yet! It's just that the idea of them is so clear in his mind, and so, so sad, and he's never been good with sad things.

So yes, his chest aches, and yes, his vision blurs over. It's not a crime, but it is a tad unsightly. This is what, the fifth time he's cried this week?

Maybe it's a good thing that Minho left.

-

Icy wind and rain lashes against their skin, painfully sharp while clogging their senses. Mouthfuls are swallowed and yet they pay it no mind, adrenaline-fuelled electricity pushing them past their limits, drawing out strength that had laid dormant all their lives.

Minho's weight is heavy against Jisung's side as they stumble towards the cart, limbs aching and lungs screaming for a moment of peace. Jisung's skull pounds, and glimmers of light dance in his vision but he looks past them, determined to pull through and emerge victorious.

They will escape.

They will.

The wood of the cart is slippery and splintered, shards digging into Jisung's palms as he drags himself up onto the straw-covered surface, shifting back and then grabbing Minho's arms to help him do the same. The older man lets out a pained groan as they settle beside one another, hair stuck to their skin and surroundings illuminated only by the cool blue glow of moonlight.

From a distance, the shouts of the imperial guards begin to echo, and panic once again seizes in his heart.

"Go!" He shouts to the driver, voice rough and broken, and quickly his words are heeded, the cart jolting into action and bustling over the rough ground below. They set a swift pace, racing into the forested paths without inhibition, as they will undeniably be pursued, and as things stand, time is as valuable as gold.

Only once Jisung is certain that they will be alright does he redirect his attention to Minho, the other man shivering and clenching his eyes tightly shut.

Jisung's heart sits in his throat, and he shakily wraps an arm around his waist, only to draw back as though burned when Minho lets out a sharp hiss of pain. In the hazy chaos of darkness and rain, Jisung almost doesn't register it, but a slight warmth has coated his fingers – a warmth that shouldn't be possible.

Hastily, he holds his hand before his eyes, squinting through the downpour to see what the cause may be, before it is washed away.

A dark liquid, he finds, staining the icy pallor of his skin. It should be obvious to him – should make sense, but he can barely tell up from down, so it takes a few heavy seconds for reality to set in.

"...Hyung?" He finally says, turning back to the older man, eyes wide and voice shaking. Minho swallows, a grimace set into his features, but his eyes crack open, and the emotion held within them says all that Jisung needs to know.

"No," Jisung says, though it falls from his lips as a hoarse whisper, "No, you can't- not now, not while- we're almost there! We've almost- You, I-..."

But reality is a sharp knife, cutting through Jisung's heart and shattering his soul. Their journey has only just begun – it will be at least an hour until they arrive at the next town over. By all accounts, if Minho is bleeding as heavily as he seems to be, it should be an impossible trip.

But Jisung can't just sit here and watch as his soulmate, the one person in this world who truly understands him, dies when hope is on the horizon.

At the very least, he needs to try.

So, he moves quickly, wincing as Minho groans from the strain on his wound, but the faster he gets access to the older man's injured side, the faster he can begin to rectify things.

They wind up with Minho slung over Jisung's lap, dark black blood seeping through and staining his clothes. From the proximity Jisung can see just how severe it is – just how deep the wound really is – but he bites back the fear that threatens to slow his movements. He needs to stay calm. He needs to get this done.

Jisung makes quick work of tearing off a portion of his sleeve, rolling it into a ball before pressing it to Minho's skin, quenching the blood flow as best he can. Minho's mouth opens in a silent cry, which Jisung pointedly ignores. His hands are trembling enough already.

Taking another strip of fabric, he pulls it around Minho's waist, tucking it under the weight of his body to pin it in place, and subsequently hold down the makeshift bandaging. Once done, he leans his own weight over the wound, fingers digging into the rain-soaked fabric, desperately attempting to buy time, to allow them to make it to safety in one piece.

Heavy breaths escape Jisung's chest, and blood rushes in his ears. There's nothing more that he can do, but he wishes that there was.

It's going to be fine.

It will.

Then, from the corner of his eye, Jisung sees Minho's mouth start to move, and he carefully leans down to hear the older man's words – their faces mere centimetres apart.

"Thank you," Minho says, and his eyes shine with resignation. Tragic understanding that Jisung refuses to go along with. Refuses to entertain.

"No," he cuts in, "Don't say that. Don't act like this is the end. We- There's so much more for us to do. We can't give up yet. Your brother will fall and your kingdom will flourish. You'll be alright."

But Minho's eyebrows tilt up apologetically, and the raindrops that drip down his skin glimmer like diamonds.

"Thank you, Jisung-ah," he says once more, but his voice grows thinner with each passing second, "-For everything you've done for me, and for my people."

The tears pooling in Jisung's eyes finally fall, thick and hot and unrestrained. He wants to hug Minho, to pull him closer, but he can't abandon the injury – can't abandon his only hope.

Instead, he finds himself speaking, reciting the poem that he's kept so close to his heart all this time. The poem that defines his feelings for the older man, acknowledges how dearly he cares for him, how much he longs to stay by his side. The lines fall from his tongue with ease, though his voice is choked and tight, panic settled well within his heart.

As his poem comes to a close, Minho's eyes are wide, shining with a joy so pure it shatters Jisung's soul once more.

Minho knows now. Knows how much Jisung loves him.

Without warning, Minho surges forward, closing the small gap between them, connecting their lips momentarily before settling back down. Jisung's mind, muddied and startled and desperate, follows after him, and he presses down to kiss Minho once more, solidifying the act between them. Against his lips, Minho smiles, and a trembling, bloodied hand reaches to cup Jisung's cheek. Slowly, he wipes away one of Jisung's tears.

When Jisung pulls back, Minho's expression is soft. When he speaks, his voice is but a whisper.

"If I am to die, it will at least be in your arms."

Then, his eyelids flutter shut, and he falls limp against the rain-soaked straw.

-

Does Jisung cry while thinking about writing this scene? Yes.

Does he cry while actually writing the scene? Also yes, to the extent that he takes at least ten extended breaks to scroll on twitter and remind himself that Minho is, in reality, alive and well.

Once he's finished, he paces around the dorm for quite some time, thinking and reflecting and planning as much as possible. He still needs to work out an ending, and it's growing dangerously close to the point where he will need to know what to write.

So, he strains his mind, testing out ideas with different characters and settings and endings. He knows that he wants things to leave off on a positive note, but how should he get there?!?!

At some point into his mental tangent, Jisung's phone vibrates in his pocket. It's a message from Hyunjin.

Hwang Hyunjin: Chan-hyung helped me make a sick beat I need to show it to you

...Oh

That's it

As though it's destiny, the puzzle pieces fall into place in Jisung's mind all at once. The perfect way to close off his story, and give the characters their best possible ever-after.

A smile tugs on his lips.

He knows what he's going to write.

Chapter Text

Now, Jisung had thought that Minho being in Japan would almost completely cut them off from one another, but in hindsight, that was a silly thing to believe. Instead, Jisung has been going (just a little) insane over the photos that Minho has sent him featuring photoshoot outfits, makeup and hair. He has considered printing some of them out to stick on his bedroom wall (it wouldn't be the craziest thing to go on a wall in their dorm), but ultimately decided against doing so, as one photo would lead to two, which would lead to eight, which would lead to twenty-four, and soon his entire bedroom would be filled with the face of a man who already lives in the building.

To deal with the desire to tear his hair out over Minho's immeasurable sexiness, Jisung has taken to messaging Felix, who thankfully matches his energy in full force. All jealousy is gone, instead replaced with an enthusiastic kinship and mutual love for all genders. Really, it's a pity that Jisung had been so averse towards addressing his struggles with, well, anyone, as engaging in proper discussions with Felix now has helped him feel more secure and confident in his identity.

At the same time, his new tendency to enthusiastically message Felix has led to awkward predicaments with other members. Namely, Hyunjin, to whom Jisung accidentally sent a photo of Minho in one of his photoshoot outfits – a pinstripe suit with no shirt underneath – with the caption 'HE'S SO ATTRACTIVE'.

One of the first topics that Jisung and Minho had discussed after throwing their admittance of feelings into the mix, was their opinions on people knowing. It would be borderline impossible to keep from the other members as time went on, so they agreed that honesty would be the best path forward, at least for this inner circle.

Suffice it to say that Hyunjin now knows about their relationship.

Chan has also reached out to Jisung separately and expressed that while he's completely happy with them being together, it may be a slippery slope with management and idol life. This isn't a new concept, but Jisung has chosen to be optimistic. He'll do what he needs to do in order to make it work, and if management doesn't like that, they can go fuck themselves. He expressed this sentiment to Chan verbatim, who laughed in agreement. Of course, it's still a terrifying thought – the idea of the media finding out, or the fans finding out, or of management halting all of their activities together and sitting them down in a meeting to express their disapproval.

But Jisung is choosing to be happy, and choosing to indulge in what he knows is right.

…And who knows, maybe their next album will feature a song about being who you are and letting yourself love.

By the last day of Minho's stay in Japan, Jisung has finally figured out a method of seduction.

The method is simple – albeit likely incredibly more difficult to pull off than he's convinced himself it will be.

The first step comes in the form of a package delivered to the dorm – small and unassuming. When Jisung opens it, he's pleased to find that the contents haven't been damaged in transit – four sheets of fake tattoos. An absentminded chuckle falls from his lips as he inspects the options – a plethora of flowers, skulls, mythical creatures, tramp stamps, and many, many other things – but when his eyes lay on one particular design, he knows exactly what he needs to do.

Standing awkwardly by the bathroom sink, he's faced with the harshness of reality. As there's only one version of the design he's chosen, he's sensibly decided to do a practice run with a small moon design, tearing off the plastic protective film without much forethought, and sticking it to his bicep. Despite wearing a tank top, the wet cloth that he dabs at the design drips cold water down his arm, which then sinks into his clothes and splashes on the floor. It's uncomfortably cold, and the tattoo doesn't even come out well. When he pulls off the paper, half of the design tears away with it, so he finds himself using the cloth to scrub the rest of it off his skin before it can stick any further.

Now, he could do another practice run, but it's late and he's impatient and sometimes baseless optimism is the way to go. It'll be fine. Even if it doesn't work out, he can choose another, slightly less appropriate design, and give it another shot.

…It's just that, well, the tragedy that was his first attempt has now enlightened him to the complications that his genius idea will pose. Namely, the location of the tattoo.

The original inspiration for this elaborate plan came to him a few days earlier, while he was lying back on his bed and pathetically lamenting Minho's absence for the five-hundredth time. Really, the confession happened at a terrible point in their schedule – the few days following it had been filled with work, and Jisung had to deal with Minho's insidious grin and staunch refusal to go along with anything other than swift, sweet kisses, in the name of waiting for Jisung to seduce him. On top of this, any half-assed seduction attempts Jisung made were immediately shut down, and he'd had to resign himself to waiting.

Hence, he'd found himself lying on his bed, lamenting.

And horny.

Which, really, if you think about it, couldn't be helped. He's been on the precipice of a relationship for what feels like forever, and the last proper action he got was when he was a teenager. So, it's perfectly reasonable for his mind to have shifted in a particular direction.

("Hyung?" he breathes, but Minho isn't looking his way. Due to his position lying down, Jisung's view is limited to the crown of Minho's head, so he opts to instead stare at the ceiling.

"Jagi," Minho says. His bold tone from before has disappeared, instead replaced with something quieter, and infinitely more intimate, "You should get a tattoo here."

His fingers press into the skin of Jisung's lower stomach, and an electric shock shoots up Jisung's spine. Tilting his head up, Jisung strains to see where the other man is referring to, but it's impossible with how they're situated. Technically Jisung could sit up, but he won't.

"Where?" he manages to ask, though it comes out weakly.

Instead of answering with words, Minho presses into the skin with a nail, and Jisung's breath catches in his throat. Then, tantalisingly slowly, Minho starts dragging the nail downwards, towards his pelvis. His finger stops just below Jisung's waistband, and pauses.)

Now, outside of his spiralling imagination – (Minho pulling his shorts off, holding his hips down, kissing the area in question) – Jisung had been struck with the idea of actually getting a tattoo there and made a mental note to buy fake tattoos to see how it would look. Then, as an extension of that, he realised that he could have a bit of teasing fun with his hyung, sending him photos with the tattoo slightly exposed, to see what would come from it.

So far, what's come from it is cold droplets of water seeping into his clothes, and an impasse.

Rather than putting the fake tattoo exactly where Minho had mentioned, he wants to hide it under his waistband. This means that he will have to pull down his shorts and boxers a tad – which in itself isn't an issue. The issue is the water. If he tries to put the tattoo there, his clothes will undeniably get drenched, which means that the most logical course of action is to just take them off. But does he really want to do that? Stand awkwardly alone in the bathroom with only a shirt on?

I'm overthinking this, he eventually decides, it's just water.

Tugging his shorts and boxers down to expose his lower pelvis, Jisung grabs the fake tattoo and considers how to position it. The design itself is of a cute cartoon cat with sharp eyes – perfect for his taunting-Minho endeavours. After lengthy consideration, he concludes that having the cat ears come above his waistband is the correct course of action, and he strips off the plastic, sticking it in place.

He's gentler with the water this time, and while it does drip uncomfortably onto his clothes and down his legs, it ultimately works out – the paper peels off to reveal a clean, crisp tattoo. Jisung can't hold back an excited smile and quickly waves some cool air over it.

Step two puts his photography skills to the test.

As you may expect, this is the first time Jisung has even considered sending another real human being a suggestive photo of himself. Has he taken lewd photos of himself before? Yes, but this is a far cry from that. Those were born from moments of inflated ego, while this is a calculated attempt to seduce his hyung from a distance.

Jisung dims the light in his room as much as he can, leaving one lamp on to cast him in a sideways glow. In a moment of sudden decision, he strips off his shirt… then decides against it. He can't expose that much skin right off the bat. Instead of putting his tank top back on, however, he digs around in his cupboard to triumphantly pull out a bathrobe. He hasn't showered, so to make the costume more convincing he goes back into the bathroom and wets his hands, running them through his hair to create the perfect sexy, half-dry look.

Careful not to harm the tattoo, Jisung then sits back against the headboard of his bed. In his chest, anticipation buzzes, a mixture of eagerness and fear. It's nearly 11 pm, so Minho is likely already in his hotel room, completely unaware of Jisung's plans.

Tentatively, Jisung shifts the fabric of his shorts around to sit low on his hips, exposing the top portion of the tattoo while still looking believable. The bathrobe, light grey in colour, hangs loosely over his shoulders, covering the upper half of his chest, but opening up to pool on the bed next to his hips.

Jisung looks at himself in the camera and is pleased to find that his slouch looks natural – like he's just had a shower, and is relaxing in his bed to wind down for the evening. Angling his arm up, he begins snapping photos – aiming for a casual selfie look that just so happens to expose the top of his shorts.

It takes ten minutes, but he finally gets one that he's happy with, and before he can talk himself out of it, sends it to Minho.

Three seconds later, his heartbeat jolts into a rapid pace, as he realises with horror that this is actually insane. He's insane. What is he doing?! He just sent Minho a suggestive photo! To be fair – it's not hugely suggestive, but there's no doubt that Minho will notice the tattoo, and ask about it! Then what's Jisung going to do?! He should have thought this through more!

Hands tangling into his hair, Jisung bites his lower lip, eyes wide.

Maybe there's an unsend function?

Opening the chat once more, Jisung goes to correct his mistake but is stopped short when his worst nightmare appears.

'Seen'.

Shit shit shit shit shit-

Jisung hastily exits the chat, turning off his phone and throwing it somewhere else on the bed. Minho is looking at the photo. He's perceiving it.

Oh god

This is insane

Then, when a few minutes have passed, …Why is it taking him so long to respond?

Jisung's gut sinks, and a new type of fear starts to fester in his chest. Maybe Minho hates it. Maybe this was the worst possible decision Jisung could have made. Maybe Minho has a disgusted expression on his face, as he tries to figure out the best way to tell Jisung to never send him anything of the sort ever again. Maybe he's-

Jisung's phone buzzes and lights up, snapping him out of his thoughts. From across the bed, he can just make out the message.

Linoring: [Image attached]

…

Maybe Jisung should just die.

Maybe he should open his window and try to fly like a bird.

Against his will, his hands grab the phone and unlock it.

It's a selfie, and Jisung can't help but huff out a laugh, because Minho has clearly attempted to imitate what Jisung sent. He's leaning back against the headboard of his hotel bed, and he's taken the photo from a high angle to get his lap in the shot as well. He must have actually had a shower because his hair is authentically wet, and--wait… is that?

It is.

Jisung's black jumper.

He's wearing it.

Jisung's heart skips a beat, and he presses his lips together, holding back a smile.

… Then he registers the text on the screen.

[show]

It's such a simple word, but the message is clear. Show him the tattoo.

A spark of electricity runs down Jisung's spine, and the tension in his limbs melts away. This is what he wanted all along, wasn't it? To play around with Minho.

In his chest, anticipation continues to thrum.

Linoring

11:09 pm

Show what

Jagiya.

I genuinely don't know what you're referring to

You know exactly what I'm referring to.

¯\_(-_-)_/¯

Jisung-ah.

What

You're the one being unclear, hyung

When Minho doesn't respond immediately again, Jisung wonders if he's pushed it slightly too far. If he should have just given in, and shown Minho the tattoo when he first asked.

But then-

Linoring: [Image attached]

Jisung opens it, and a few things happen at once.

His heart stops, his phone falls from his hands, and his jaw drops open so harshly that there's a physical spike of pain.

…Then the world spins back into action.

He wasn't prepared for this. He should have been prepared for this since it's exactly what he'd planned, but oh god, holy shit, this is a lot.

His phone sits in his lap, the image staring back up at him.

Minho lies down more against the headboard, the photo angle taken from high enough to get his face all the way down to his pelvis. But that's not the issue. The issue is that his jumper has been tugged up to slightly expose the planes of his stomach, while his free hand sits down by his crotch, thumb hooked into the waistband of his pants, pulling down to reveal a truly sinful amount of his pelvis. His expression is flat as he stares at the camera, and the photo has been edited to have a bright red circle (which, upon closer inspection, is actually jureumi) on the area where Jisung's fake tattoo would be.

Jisung is blushing. He can feel the warmth rushing up the back of his neck, the jack-rabbiting of his heart in his chest. Not to mention the heat pooling in his lower body.

He lets himself stare at the photo for a moment, before getting back to work. He has a part to play in this, after all. If Minho is willing to send that, then so is Jisung.

He shimmies out of the bathrobe and tosses it onto the ground somewhere. Then, he follows Minho's lead, hooking a thumb into his waistband, pulling down to reveal the tattoo. His hand is surprisingly still, as he repositions himself to take another photo. This time, he doesn't care about getting his face in the shot, as he wants Minho to clearly see what design he chose. The shot ends up capturing until just below his chest, with the tattoo taking centre stage. Even though it is noticeably a fake tattoo, it looks undeniably good.

Linoring

11:15 pm

[Image]

This is one option for where to put it

11:19 pm

Where else were you thinking

Now, you see, Jisung hadn't exactly planned this far. This is particularly evident as he has simultaneously the best, worst, and most daring idea of his life, which he messages to Minho without so much as a second thought. Really, at this point, he's too worked up to be thinking straight, and god are his choices beginning to reflect that.

Inner thigh

Seconds tick by, and Jisung watches as Minho's typing bubble appears and then disappears and then appears and then disappears until finally-

11:22 pm

Yeah?

Yeah

…So?

So what?

…

You know I really have a terrible imagination

Jisung barks a laugh and closes his eyes, a smile pulling on his lips. He considers what to respond with, and eventually decides to drop the oblivious act.

Poor thing

I guess you need a reference photo

When Jisung slides his shorts off, reality hits him like a slap in the face. He's actually here, doing this, with Minho. Does this count as successful seduction? He hopes it does. He can't imagine tolerating any more unresolved tension between them when Minho gets back.

Now only in his boxers, Jisung props one leg up to casually expose the inner flesh of his thigh. He rests his head back against the headboard, tilting it slightly up to expose his neck. He bites his bottom lip and lets his eyelids half-close. Once he's snapped a good photo, he sits with it for a moment, eyes raking over the scene.

Thanks to the existence of Minho, Jisung's skin is flushed, and his boxers do little to hide what's going on down there. He looks… pornographic, almost – which is kind of the point, but still.

For the sake of playing the game at hand, he edits the photo to circle a portion of his thigh, where the tattoo would theoretically go.

He opens the chat again.

He selects the image.

Swallowing, he presses send.

Immediately, Minho sees it.

…Now, it's time for Jisung to wait.

Seconds drag by torturously slowly, but the sheer knowledge that Minho is looking at him posed like that is enough to spur the arousal in his gut, the anticipation in his veins.

Then-

Incoming Video Call

[Linoring]

Jisung's heart leaps out of his throat, eyes widening. A sudden wave of shyness washes over him – it's one thing to have time to think and respond and pose, but this throws him completely into the deep end. How is he supposed to look Minho in the eye? How is he supposed to speak to him?

When he accepts the call, he brings the camera close to his face but hides behind his free hand – peeking through his fingers to see the image of his hyung that blinks into view. Instantly, the breath is swept from Jisung's lungs. Minho looks so fucking good, with his wet hair and his flushed skin and his dark, piercing eyes and holy shit he's not wearing a shirt and-

"Jisung-ah," Minho says, voice rough. It sends a shiver down Jisung's spine, a thrill through his skin.

"Yeah?" Jisung responds, trying to sound normal, but failing horrifically when the word comes out strained and high-pitched.

Minho lets out a short breath, eyes closing momentarily, "…Look at me, I'm a mess."

He pulls his phone further back, and when Jisung gets a clear view of his body, the hand over his eyes falls to his lap.

To put it simply, Minho looks how Jisung feels. His irises are blown wide and his chest is flushed, the planes of his body glistening with sweat. His crotch – Jesus fucking christ his crotch – although covered, is in no better shape.

Jisung swallows.

"Hyung, I…' he breathes, but any further words get stuck in his throat.

When Minho brings the camera back to his face, they hold a look between them, and Jisung knows that they're thinking the same thing. Knows that they're on the same page.

He brings his free hand to his pelvis.

In a twist of fate – a really horrible one at that – on Minho's end, a loud knock sounds. They both startle, eyes widening, before Minho's expression turns into one of irritation and he sharply turns his head to the door. He looks kind of hot when he's angry like this, but that's not the point, because now Minho has set the phone down on his bed, and disappeared off camera.

Jisung sits, waiting with bated breath, and can distantly hear the voice of one of their managers.

When Minho returns, his expression says everything it needs to. He's required to go and do something.

Jisung sighs, but puts on a light voice.

"Don't worry, hyung," he says, "it's alright."

Minho's lips press into a thin line before he speaks.

"At a time like this…" His eyes flick back to the door, brows further furrowing.

"Look," Jisung points out, "You'll be back tomorrow. We can pick up where we've left off. That's better than this anyway."

Minho still doesn't seem entirely on board – and for good reason – but the manager is still outside, so Jisung makes the executive decision to end the call himself. After an apologetic goodbye, he's drenched in his own reality. This reality being that he's alone, on his bed, completely and utterly aroused.

Great.

It's nothing new, and yet is simultaneously the newest thing he's ever experienced. Images of Minho flash through his mind – his flushed skin, the planes of his body. He'd looked nothing short of a wet dream.

Jisung's hand is still on his crotch.

Fuck it

Jisung leans coyly into Chan, laying his head on the older man's shoulder.

"Can't we end practice early?" He asks as sweetly as possible, but Chan gently shoves him off, smiling.

"You can hold out for half an hour, can't you?" He responds, tone teasing, and Jisung groans.

He's sweaty, tired, and completely and utterly distracted, barely able to follow along with the choreography that he'd had memorised a week ago. Not to mention, he's been buzzing with anticipation all day – literally, physically vibrating at points – because Minho is so close to being home, so close to standing in the same physical space as him. To an outsider, it may seem as though Minho has been gone for months, with how dramatically Jisung has been treating the whole ordeal.

Unfortunately, practice continues, and the music slips in one of Jisung's ears and out the other (thank goodness for muscle memory). Time ticks by agonisingly slowly – the clock on the wall surely having been tampered with to move at 0.5x speed.

Jisung wants to go home.

He really, really wants to go home.

He wants to have a shower.

He wants to wait for Minho.

He wants to see Minho.

He wants to hug Minho.

He wants to kiss Minho.

He wants to fu-

Felix's voice cuts through the air.

"Oh, Minho-hyung! You're back!"

Jisung's head whips around so fast that his vision gets colourful spots in it, but he blinks through them to find Minho standing in the practice room doorway, hair fluffy and un-styled, wearing Jisung's jumper once more. The heavens truly have come to Jisung's aid.

Vaguely, Jisung registers Minho saying something about only popping in for a moment – that he came here before their dorm and that a car is waiting for him outside. Rather than focusing on this, however, Jisung is incredibly preoccupied with the way that his and Minho's gazes have locked from across the room, the older man's eyes entrancing, and – what was it? Oh, right – Gorgeous, catlike and piercing.

Jisung swallows, and his heartbeat stutters into a faster rhythm.

Really, it's surprising how outwardly calm he manages to be, as he strolls to pick up his belongings – practice be damned – and make his way to where Minho is standing.

"Hyung and I will head out now, then," he hears himself say, grabbing hold of Minho's arm. If anyone protests, he doesn't hear it. Instead, as soon as the door clicks shut behind them, he's running, dragging Minho, sprinting down the hallway.

Where are they running to?

Well, uhhhh- There!

Jisung pushes through the door of the vocal room without hesitation, realising abruptly that it is not, in fact, a vocal room, but a storage cupboard. Inside the light is dim, and it's the most cliché space possible, but Minho is giggling Jisung will be damned if he waits a second longer to find a less suitable genre of room.

He drags Minho in, closes the door behind them, turns on the ugly yellow light, then wastes no time in grabbing the older man's face and pulling it down to meet him on the lips. He doesn't stop there, however, pulling back to press another kiss to Minho's nose, his forehead, his cheek, and just about every square inch of skin he can see.

Minho is still smiling with crescent eyes, still giggling like Jisung is the most humorous person alive, and when Jisung speaks amid the onslaught his voice is hushed but insistent, eyes wide.

"I've been going crazy, hyung," he says, then kisses Minho's face again.

"You have no idea-"

(Kiss)

"- how much I've been wanting to do this."

(Kiss)

"It's actually unhealthy."

(Kiss)

"I shouldn't be thinking about you this much."

(Kiss)

"I have work to do, and still-"

Minho effectively shuts him up by grabbing Jisung's own face and pulling him in for a longer, lingering kiss on the lips. It's intoxicating – the plush sensation, the pleasant warmth, the quiet sound that occurs when they part.

Naturally, they do it again, and again, and when they pull back a third time, Minho catches his teeth on Jisung's bottom lip, tugging it lightly, and a thrill runs down Jisung's spine.

"We can't stay here," Minho breathes once they've parted, "The car is still waiting."

A complaint builds in Jisung's chest and his hands slip to Minho's shoulders, but the look in Minho's eyes dissipates any words he could hope to say. There's something heavy there, something intense, and Jisung finds himself clinging on to every second that passes between them.

"When we get back to the dorm, we can-" Minho says, then seems to hesitate, before his eyes drop down to Jisung's lips and he swallows, "pick up where we left off yesterday?"

…

Pick up from wHERE WE LEFT OFF YESTERDAY?!

…

Jisung is fine. Completely fine. Not freaking out at all. Completely cool-headed and relaxed. Is he about to collapse? Yes, but that's unrelated.

It's inevitable, the way that his mind conjures up images of Minho leaning back against the headboard, pupils blown wide, skin flushed. It's also inevitable, the way that heat floods Jisung's face, rapidly spreading downwards.

"-Only if you want to, though," Minho clarifies after Jisung's failure to respond, and Jisung is thrown so harshly back into reality that he fails to regulate the volume of his voice when he yelps "I do!".

Minho's eyes widen and he barks a laugh, and it's such an endearing sound that Jisung can't even bring himself to be embarrassed. Then, a thought comes to him.

"I mean," he says at a normal volume, "it's just…"

A beat passes between them , before the corner of Jisung's lips quirks up, teasing "Does this mean that I've successfully seduced you?"

Minho's eyes tightly close, a reluctant smile pulling on his lips. He leans in to bump his forehead against Jisung's.

"You've done more than that," he says, and then after a second, "I guess that makes this official then, huh?"

Jisung, the sappy man that he is, smiles contently, "I guess it does."

A peaceful moment sits between them, until Minho seems to have a new thought, indicated by his brows furrowing slightly and the way his gaze darts to the side. When their eyes meet again, there's a new seriousness about him.

"We only have to go as far as you're comfortable with, okay?" He says, and Jisung is abruptly reminded of the fact that he is a borderline virgin. It hurts his pride a little, but he understands where Minho is coming from – he doesn't want Jisung to throw himself into the deep end of homoerotic acts without knowing what they entail, and getting hurt because of it. That being said, Jisung is perhaps overqualified in the theory of gay sex, and wants nothing more than to finally experience the practical side of things as well. Thus, he leans in to speak into Minho's ear, voice low.

"I should be the one telling you that," he says, before drawing back to look the older man in the eye. The certainty in his tone seems to help Minho relax, his expression softening.

"When we get back I'll have a quick shower," Jisung continues, "and I can-"

He cuts himself off, because it's only now registering in his brain how embarrassing what he was about to say truly is. A slight heat creeps up the back of his neck. Minho doesn't seem to share the sentiment, however, because the heaviness has returned to his expression.

"You can..?" he prompts, and Jisung glances down, biting his lip a little.

Ah, fuck it

Taking a deep breath in, he meets Minho's eyes with confidence.

"I can prepare myself?"

Minho seems to lag for a second, before his eyes widen, breath hitching. Then he's nodding, and the next thing Jisung knows, a firm hand is gripping his wrist and they're stumbling out of the storage room, footsteps heavy and quick as they hurry towards the elevators.

Throughout the car ride back, Jisung's heart races, leg bouncing absentmindedly. He and Minho keep exchanging fleeting, playful glances, barely able to hide their smiles. When Jisung meets the manager's eyes in the rearview mirror he tries to school his expression, and is thankfully met with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

Jisung helps Minho with hauling his luggage back into the dorm, and then after tugging the older man by the collar into another brief kiss, darts into the bathroom.

…Then darts back out, grabs lube, and goes back in.

As much as he wants to get out of the shower as fast as humanly possible, he knows it's not a good idea. So, he takes his time, and makes sure that he's comfortable before turning off the water and using a towel to pat himself moderately dry – he'll be sweating again soon enough. For the sake of it he puts his pants back on, but doesn't care for a shirt, and hastily styles his hair into something nice. His reflection stares back at him in the mirror, and he finds that he's shaking a little, nervous anticipation building in his chest.

It's going to be fine, he tells himself, though the sensation persists regardless.

Deep breath in, slow breath out. He grabs the door handle and pushes it open with a click.

Now, somewhere in Jisung's brain, he'd been expecting Minho to have sat down on the couch, gone to his room, or settled down somewhere in a similar fashion. Thus, when he opens the door to find him right there, it startles a laugh out of his chest, and he feels silly for worrying in the first place. Minho looks like a frazzled cat, his (Jisung's) jumper having been discarded somewhere in the dorm, and the pent up energy in the older man's body radiates off him in waves. He clearly doesn't know what to do or how to approach starting this interaction, and his arms hang limply by his sides, lips parted as he does a once-over of Jisung's freshly curated appearance.

A fond warmth floods Jisung's chest, and he finds himself stepping forward first, hands finding Minho's own, holding them with a firm, confident grip that the older man quickly returns. Looking up, Jisung can see his own reflection in Minho's eyes. It's slightly distorted, warped by the light and angle, but there's a sense of intimacy to the discovery that makes its home in Jisung's heart. He sees Minho, and Minho sees him, and oh – now they're kissing. Jisung smiles and leans into the soft touch, tilting his head to better slot them together, and from there, it's easy.

Minho's hands find Jisung's waist while Jisung's find the back of his neck, fingers tangling into the hair there, tugging it as their lips connect again and again until they're breathless, until Minho's teeth sink into Jisung's bottom lip and his mouth falls pliantly open, their tongues meeting in the middle, arousal pooling in Jisung's abdomen at the warm, wet sensation.

Minho's hands slide up Jisung's sides, around to his shoulder blades, over his stomach and chest. A trail of electricity is left in their wake, and when his nails drag purposefully over the skin of Jisung's ribs Jisung shudders, a low sound escaping his throat. This seems to spur something in Minho, as the next thing Jisung knows, the older man has moved to his jaw, and begun trailing open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

It isn't long before the air is filled with the sound of Jisung's pants, whines, and general inability to keep his mouth shut – strings of yes's and Minho-hyung's falling from his lips as the older man works his way down to the tattoo on Jisung's chest. Jisung's fingers tangle in his hair – holding him close to his body, head arching back at the dizzying sensation. Then Minho's hands fall to grab Jisung's ass, and Jisung's whole body throbs with a wave of heat.

Fuck

Newly driven, Jisung pulls Minho back up, but instead of responding to the question in his eyes, he uses all of the strength that he can muster to tug them both back into the bathroom, shoving Minho up against the bathroom sink so abruptly that a surprised gasp falls from the older man's lips.

He realises now, as he stares at the god of a human before him, that Minho is wearing an unacceptable amount of clothing. Leaning in to kiss him once more, Jisung slips his hands up and under the fabric of Minho's shirt, runs them over the soft planes of his skin, and soon enough Minho catches on, lifting his arms and letting the garment be pulled off completely.

So now they're both shirtless, and Jisung can feel his sanity rapidly slipping. It's probably already gone, to be honest, as the thrill that wracks through Jisung's chest is nothing short of rapacious. Before he knows it, he's pressing his lips to the skin of Minho's collar, tasting his sweat, breathing in his scent. Minho's arms wrap around him, fingers digging into the muscles of Jisung's back as Jisung leaves marks along his chest, revels in the flush of his skin, and drowns in the quiet, high-pitched sounds that he lets out.

He kisses up Minho's neck, to the crook of his shoulder. Jisung is talking, but the words leaving his mouth never register in his brain – heated rambling that riles Minho up even more, causes him to squeeze his eyes shut and gasp half-formed responses into the air around them.

Perhaps it's due to wanton haze, but he only registers that he's sunk his teeth into the skin of Minho's neck when Minho shudders, arms pulling tight around Jisung's torso, a shocked, breathless moan torn from his lips. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jisung registers that this makes up for all of the time that he spent pettily frustrated over that damned bite mark. He's the one with Minho in his arms now, sweaty and saying his name. Although unapologetic, Jisung presses soothing kisses over the marks left behind.

Pulling back, he sees Minho's pupils dilated, intense and heavy and christ now Minho is moving, fingers rough against Jisung's skin, flipping him around so fast that room is a blur. It's electrifying – the way that Minho handles him with purpose, positioning him so that his front is pressed against the sink, hands holding the edge, body bent forward. Exhilaration courses through Jisung's veins as Minho – holy fuck – as he kisses across the back of his neck, down his spine, one hand threading through to grip his hair while the other sits on his hip and slides lower, lower, lower.

Jisung keens, head hanging, arms already trembling.

"Hyung," he pants, the address falling from his lips again and again like a mantra, like a plea.

"Jisung-ah," Minho rasps, voice by Jisung's ear, hand tugging Jisung's hair so that his head lolls back, the slight sting of the action drawing a shaky gasp from his throat. Minho's nose brushes against his neck.

"You have no idea," he says, "Those photos last night…I…"

Minho trails off, but Jisung gets it. He understands.

"Me too," Jisung breathes, and when he finds that his grip on the sink threatens to slip, palms sweaty, he presses back against Minho's body, the sensation overwhelming, all-consuming. It edges on too much, until Minho's voice rings out again, his movements pausing.

"Wait," he says, and despite the sluggishness of Jisung's thoughts, he twists to look over his shoulder at the older man, meeting his gaze.

What he discovers is a clear message, one that he finds himself hastily nodding at, before his brain has even had a chance to catch up.

Minho pulls back, and the gap between them is instantly agonising. Wasting no time, Jisung snatches up the lube from where it's tumbled to the floor, and, skin buzzing, they make their way into Minho's bedroom.

-

Afterwards, Jisung doesn't bother to even attempt to move, basking in the afterglow and vaguely registering Minho shuffling around to get them both cleaned up. His head feels as though it's been filled with clouds and a fondness sits in his chest, thrumming softly as his eyes follow the figure of the older man.

It was undeniably one of the most intense experiences Jisung has ever had – he and Minho melding into one, senses heightened, hearts racing – and yet it was never uncomfortable, never too much for him to deal with. Minho made consistent efforts to check in with him, asking him how he felt, if it was good. At one point he told Jisung that he was good, which evoked a reaction within him that he is definitely not in the headspace to unpack right now. Of course, this was something so completely new for the both of them, and yet they were as in tune with one another as they always have been, smiling and giggling and, as cliché as it sounds, so, so in love.

One thing that Jisung had underestimated, however, was the sheer prowess of Minho's dancer physique, which served to enhance and extend just about every mind-numbing action the older man pulled out of his pocket. As such, Jisung is fairly certain that he'll never be able to walk again.

Minho makes his way back over to the bed from where he'd been ruffling through his luggage – Jisung has long given up on asking him what's so urgent that it needs to be found while undressed and immediately after having sex.

Crawling to settle down on the covers, Minho reaches out to grab one of Jisung's hands, pressing something into it. Blinking a few times, Jisung eventually registers that he needs to look at what he's been given. It's cold in his hand, feels part like metal and part like enamel, and-

Jisung's eyebrows raise in mild awe, a smile pulling on his lips.

"How did you manage to find this?" He asks. It's a high-quality keychain, but what matters more than anything is the beautiful landscape design it holds, featuring a coyote in the snow.

A coyote.

Minho's expression is smug as he raises his hand to reveal a matching one.

"I stumbled across them in a stationary store," he explains, but Jisung isn't entirely sure if he believes it. It's too perfect of a gift, but he'll let it slide.

Jisung looks Minho dead in the eyes, and speaks with a serious, straightforward tone of voice.

"I love you."

One thing that Jisung has found is that Minho finds it difficult to respond to such proclamations. Not because the feelings aren't fully reciprocated, but because he's guarded his heart for so long that the words feel weird on his tongue, a touch too vulnerable. Jisung doesn't mind. If anything, he can see it plenty through the older man's actions, the way he smiles, the gleam in his eyes.

Thus, when Minho reaches out to poke Jisung on the forehead, ears flushed red, he knows that's his way of saying it back.

(Jeongin and Seungmin learn that they are together a few days later, when Minho pulls Jisung in for a sudden chaste kiss during a recording session. They both loudly exclaim at the act, but only Jeongin seems surprised.)

Jisung flexes his fingers, staring at the screen of his computer. The fanfiction document sits before him, thousands and thousands of words spread across pages and pages of story. There's love, anguish, drama, tension and romance, all mixed in with a sprinkle of self-indulgence, a sprinkle of bullshit, and small nods and hints towards real life occurrences.

It's as though he's piecing together an album, finally slotting the songs into place, ready to send it off for approval. Only, the approval in this case is from like-minded fans, hopeless romantics, and those who have gotten a bit confused and lost online, and stumbled into a story that just so happened to pique their interest.

As for the ending of the narrative, Jisung is making full use of a character that has been there the entire time – a perfect fit for the role of ruler, a role that fictional Minho would only ever take out of obligation.

Chan.

Kind-hearted, knowledgeable, understanding, well-liked, reasonable, well-intentioned, and willing to bend the rules a little to do what's right.

He's the perfect choice.

After gaining refuge with Seungmin's grandmother, Minho finds himself alive, but barely functioning. Jisung's concern for him persists, and he spends the days by his side, tending to his wounds, and reading poetry to pass the time. One evening, Minho asks him to recite the poem that he used to confess, and he does so, over and over again until his voice is hoarse and Minho drifts into a peaceful sleep, a smile on his lips.

News of Minho's rebellion and escape spreads through the kingdom, though citizens are divided in opinion. Many people, particularly the younger generations, feel that he was justified in his actions, and that a new ruler is long overdue. Jisung hears rumours of protests taking place.

A week or so into their stay, a letter arrives, addressed to Seungmin's grandmother, but intended for Jisung and Minho. It's from Chan, and while on the surface it seems to be a perfectly innocent recounting of his day, when Jisung reads between the lines, he finds a secret message: The marriage has been called off, there's unrest among the royal court, and Hyunjin has quickly come to regret his decision.

It is ultimately Minho who comes up with the plan that will bring his brother down. As part of his treatment, Seungmin's grandmother has been feeding him a traditional remedy from the area, that makes use of a herb which, when prepared incorrectly, can be lethal. Minho initially points it out as it resembles a tea that is frequently served to the nobles as a side to their meals.

From there the plan falls quickly into place, but relies heavily upon Hyunjin's involvement. As the man ratted them out, he gained the full trust of Minho's older brother, making him the perfect person to task with a simple ingredient switch.

To convey this plan in full, Jisung writes his own inconspicuous letter, embedding within it a date, time, and location to meet up. He doesn't expect Chan to be able to attend the meeting in person, instead betting on the older man sending a trustworthy messenger.

Minho fears that it will be a trap, but Jisung insists that he stay behind while Jisung goes to the meeting on his own. Minho's condition has been fluctuating, and while Jisung believes that he's strong enough to persevere through the process of healing, he'll be damned if he lets Minho push that theory to its limit.

Tension high, Jisung slips out on the night of the meeting to make his way to the location, sticking to the shadows and desperately hoping that the process will go smoothly. Tucked into his sleeve is a small pouch of the herb – more than enough to carry out the act.

As it turns out, Chan's messenger is Seungmin. Collapsing to the ground in relief, they slip into a pleasant conversation, and Jisung leaves the meeting with faith in his heart. They can do this. It will work out.

Hyunjin is theoretically set to poison Minho's brother over the next week, so Jisung and Minho simply hold their breaths and wait.

At one point, soldiers from the capital barge through the streets, knocking on doors to search for Minho. The two of them hide in a cellar behind the house, bodies pressed close together, hearts beating rapidly from adrenaline. Thankfully, they aren't discovered.

Days continue to pass, and hope begins to wane. That is, until a knock sounds on the door one morning, and they find Chan standing there, expensive liquor in hand, and a wide smile on his lips. Abandoning all manners, Jisung wraps him in a desperate hug, tears of relief streaming down his cheeks.

As the morning passes, news of the assassination gets out, and the people begin to celebrate. Jisung and Minho return to the capital with Chan, making sure beforehand to express their endless gratitude to Seungmin's grandmother, with promises to visit frequently.

At the ceremony to promote Chan, Jisung recites a poem about prosperity and hope. Chan himself makes sure to establish that his position within the court is not one of sole authority, but rather as a person who listens to others and considers their ideas, and makes educated decisions with the intent to help the kingdom flourish.

Minho and Jisung hang around the capital for a few weeks, but the outside world calls, so they pack their bags and mount their horses, waving goodbye to their friends, and breathing in the fresh scent of freedom.

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Empty scrolls, brushes, and ink sit in a fabric pouch slung over Jisung's shoulder, as close to his heart as he can get them. Through the trees, golden rays of sunlight shine down, casting the forest in an angelic glow, and birds can be heard up above, chirping to one another as they flurry between branches.

Jisung and Minho ride side-by-side, slowly trotting down the well-worn dirt path, laughing and smiling and discussing anything and everything that comes to mind. Time passes peacefully, and a sense of contentment settles in Jisung's chest, a fond admiration for the man beside him, and all that they have achieved together.

Minho's expression is softened, no longer steeled by the strife of his position, or the obligations that fell on his back as a man who feared for the fate of his kingdom. Instead, his eyes are relaxed and warm, glimmering in the afternoon light, curving into crescent moons as he smiles with a joy that Jisung could – and will – write endless poems about.

On a whim, Jisung brings his horse as close as he can to the older man's, and reaches an arm out. There's no hesitation when Minho's fingers slot between his own, holding tight and strong with all of the love in the world.

They may not know where they'll go, what they'll do, or what the future will entail, but Jisung is certain that as long as Minho is by his side – as long as their hearts are connected as one – he'll be living a life worthwhile.

The End

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