Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The party wasn’t even good. The music kept skipping, the floor was sticky, and somebody had spilled a drink on Minho’s sneakers an hour ago. He sat cross-legged on the floor anyway, because his friends were all there, and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do on a sunday night

The bottle in the middle of their circle had just stopped spinning.

“Truth or dare?” Yeonjun asked, leaning forward with that shit-eating grin that meant he was about to start problems.
At this point, Minho was just happy that Chans 13 other very extroverted friends weren’t here atm.

“Truth,” Minho said. He wasn’t about to run shirtless across campus like Soobin had just been forced to.

Yeonjun tapped his chin like he was thinking hard. Then he smirked. “What do you think about Han Jisung?”

Minho blinked. “Who?”

That actually made everyone laugh. Chan clapped his hands, Hyunjin snorted into his cup, and Changbin went, “No way you don’t know him.”

Minho frowned. “Am I supposed to?”

Yeonjun slapped soobin from laughing, making him smile “Of course. Everyone knows Jisung. Short, loud, dresses like he’s on love island everyday?”

Minho shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Hyunjin leaned forward, wide-eyed. “If u tell me u didn’t see someone wearing a fishnet shirt to class last week ill know youre lying ur ass off.”

“Fishnet?” Minho frowned. “In broad daylight?”

“Yes!” Hyunjin threw his hands up. “That’s him. He shows up like he’s the main event, makes it everyone else’s problem, and people actually eat it up. I mean he does look good, but his friend looks better in my opinion…”

Yeonjun was already on a roll. “This guy thrives on attention. Always talking loud, always touching people when he laughs, always—like—making everything about him. Total slut.”

“Slut” Changbin echoed raising his cup.

Chan chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I’d go that far…”

“Yes, you would,” Yeonjun shot back. “Don’t act innocent. The guy flirts his way out of every assignment. He doesn’t even try. He just flashes a smile and suddenly professors are giving him extensions. Extensions! I bomb one quiz and they look at me like I’m a lost cause. Heck if i went down on my prof he’d throw me out of school! But when jisungie does it it’s suddenly fine”

Soobin, who had been quietly sipping his drink, finally grinned. “He does talk like he’s on love island. You know that fake sassy / seductive voice? It’s painful.”

The circle cracked up again, and Minho just sat there, eyebrows raised. He wasn’t sure what kind of demon this Jisung guy was, but apparently, the entire room was united in hating him.

“So what do you think now?” Yeonjun pressed, leaning closer.

Minho shrugged, bored. “Sounds annoying, I guess.”

Hyunjin gasped like the drama queen he is. “Annoying? He’s unbearable.” (Yeah coming from u hyunjin…)

The bottle spun again, moving the game along, but Minho still didn’t care. Whoever Han Jisung was, he sounded like a headache in human form. The way Yeonjun described him, Minho pictured some TikTok reject trying to make campus his personal stage. Not his problem.

***

The next morning, Minho regretted even going to the party. His head was pounding, his throat was dry, and the psych lecture hall was way too bright. He slumped into a seat near the back, dropped his bag on the floor, and stared at his coffee.

“Morning,” Changbin said cheerfully, sliding into the seat next to him.

Minho squinted. “How are you awake right now?”

Changbin just grinned. “I dont know honestly dont question. Anyyyywayyy, remember Jisung from last night?”

“Tf is a jisung” Minho muttered.

“Okay so u don’t, well u will eventually” Changbin promised, eyes glinting with way too much excitement for eight in the morning. He tilted his chin toward the door. “Just wait.”

The lecture hall buzzed with chatter as students trickled in. Minho was half-asleep, scrolling through tiktok, seeing that cole and jackson wang still didn’t announce their marrige, lowk made him more pissed off. Then the noise level spiked. He turned his head and instantly knew.

It had to be him.

Han Jisung walked in like the building was hosting a red-carpet event. Cropped hoodie, hanging just enough to show his stomach when he moved. Jeans so tight Minho wondered how circulation was happening. Chains glinting around his neck. Hair messy but styled, like he’d spent an hour perfecting the art of looking unbothered.

“That’s him?” Minho muttered.

“Yup,” Changbin said, clearly enjoying himself. “The one and only.”

Jisung strolled down the steps, stopping by the professor’s desk. He leaned against it, said something with a bright grin. The professor this crusty old ass fosile who’d never smiled once in his life, actually laughed. At eight in the morning.

Minho stared. “What the hell…”

“Exactly,” Changbin said. “He’s got everyone wrapped around his finger. Watch.”

Sure enough, Jisung sauntered to a seat, dropping his bag with dramatic flair. The second he sat down, he turned to the guy next to him, touched his arm mid-laugh, hair flipping like he was in a shampoo commercial. His voice carried across the room, pitched perfectly so people couldn’t ignore him.

“See?” Changbin muttered. “Pick me behavior. He lives for it. And the worst part? It works. Everything just… falls into his lap. It’s disgusting.”

Minho didn’t answer right away. He was too busy staring. Jisung stretched his arms over his head, hoodie riding up to flash his stomach, and then caught someone looking. Instead of fixing his shirt, he smirked and leaned back like he was basking in the attention.

Minho tapped his pen against the desk. “He’s really just… like that?”

“Every single day,” Changbin said, sounding personally offended. “I’ve seen him sweet talk the cafeteria lady into giving him free extra fries. Who does that?! Poor lady” changbin wiped a fake tear off of his face

Minho couldn’t stop watching. Jisung was laughing again, head thrown back, hair falling into his face. The guy next to him was hanging on every word, and Jisung looked like he knew it.

Something about it got under Minho’s skin. The fake innocence. The way it all came so easily to him. Minho was already failing half his classes, and this guy was out here coasting through college by fluttering his lashes.

The professor started the lecture, but Minho barely heard a word. His pen scribbled nonsense on the page while his eyes kept flicking back to Han.

He didn’t even know him, but it didn’t matter.

He hated him already. How does he do absolute shit and get gold in reward!?

***

When class finally ended, Minho packed his things quickly, eager to get out. But just as he turned toward the aisle, Jisung’s voice rang out again very loudly, the kind of tone that made u want to jump out of the nearest window.

“Wait, can you grab that for me? Prettyyy pleaseeee”

He was leaning over his desk, grinning at some poor guy who immediately picked up his pen for him like he’d just been asked to hold a crown. Jisung winked, took it back, and bounced out of the room with his headphones slung around his neck, hoodie still riding up.

Changbin clapped Minho on the shoulder. “Told you.”

Minho exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.

How haven’t i noticed this speciment before.

Chapter Text

Minho had been dying in classes since the start of the semester. I mean, who wouldn’t? He had math first thing on a Tuesday morning, and the fact that Hyunjin was sitting behind him, kicking his chair every thirty seconds, wasn’t helping his mood.

“Yo Lee, why are you acting depressed?” Hyunjin asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Minho spun around to glare at the tall ferret. “Shut the fuck up, Hwang. The last thing I want right now is to talk to someone whose IQ is in the negatives at 8 in the morning.”

Hyunjin gasped dramatically. He slapped a hand to his forehead. “Teacher! I think I need a minute outside. I don’t know if I feel safe right now!”

Minho shot him a ‘the fuck-’ face as Hyunjin theatrically ran out of the classroom, dragging his bag like he was in a K-drama.

Finally, the soul sucking math class with Mr. Joong Archen ended, and Minho needed to cool off.
Coffee was too weak, alcohol was too much (and he already had way too much of it within these past few days).

The next best option was probably the cigarette Jungkook had slipped him the last time they hung out. He had laughed it off then, stuffed it into his bag. But right now, with his head pounding and his patience fried, it felt like the perfect excuse to try it.

He dug it out of his backpack along with his chrome hearts lighter, staring at it like it was some kind of treasured object (it costed a shit ton load of money so ofc he treasures it) . “Is this how the majority starts smoking?” he muttered, shaking his head, then shoved it into his pocket anyway.

He headed behind the school, where nobody usually went. Normally, this little alley was reserved for horny couples making out, which was exactly what he found.

Mid step Minho froze. Soobin and Yeonjun were wrapped up together, making out with Yeonjun’s hands tugging harshly at Soobin’s hair, full on like some documentary about animals who hadn’t eaten for decades.

“Wow, I didn’t know we had mouth anatomy homework due today,” Minho smirked. “I guess you’re rushing through it.”

Soobin stumbled back, nearly sending Yeonjun flying, then froze. “Jesus, you scared us Lee! Don’t do that again.”

“Yeah, what are you even doing here?” Yeonjun said, draping an arm over Minho’s shoulder, immediately spotting the cigarette in his hand.

“Oooohohoooo, is our Minnie starting to rot from hanging out with our Jungkookie too much?” Soobin teased, shoving him lightly.

They all laughed. It was an ongoing joke about Jungkook, of course no one took it seriously, JK was a close friend to all of them.

Minho shoved Yeonjun’s arm off him, rolling his eyes. “You guys are disgusting, by the way.”

“Aw, thanks,” Yeonjun said sweetly, pulling Soobin back into his chest like Minho hadn’t even interrupted them.

They joked around for a bit, Minho tossing pebbles at Soobin until he threatened to throw one back harder. But the breeze was colder than he expected it to be, so finally he said “Guys, I might dip” dapping both of them up.

As he turned the corner, he heard Yeonjun yell “OMG MINHO, YOU GOTTA SEE THIS SHIT!!”

Minho groaned, already halfway across the lot, but something in Yeonjun’s voice made him turn back. Both Soobin and Yeonjun were crouched on the ground, staring at a phone and giggling like maniacs.

“Are y’all good in the head?” Minho asked, crouching down.

Yeonjun shoved the phone into his hands. Minho blinked. Han Jisung had posted a new selfie.

The caption was: studying hard.

And… it was him in their math classroom. Bent over a desk. Wearing a crop top and a skirt that left little to the imagination.

“WHAT THE FUCK. THAT’S MY DESK!” Minho muttered, stunned. A strange punch of recognition hit him, like this was suddenly his problem.

“Yeah, you think we’d be laughing this much about him looking like that?” Yeonjun said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “That’s just how he is in every post.”

Soobin leaned in, peering over Minho’s shoulder like he hadn’t already seen it. “Honestly, kind of iconic though.”

“Iconically insane” Minho corrected, handing the phone back.

He let out a long sigh as he lowk judged those two gays bickering over another zest fest bending over a desk. He didn’t even get to light the cigarette. Something about this Han Jisung was… weirdly magnetic, and it pissed him off.

***

By the time Minho finally got home, the sun was already dipping low. He shut the dorm door behind him with a thud and massaged the tension out of his shoulders.

His stomach reminded him it had been hours since he ate lunch, so he decided to make something simple and also the only thing he had that was consideret edible. Ramyeon.

The water boiled, noodles cooking quickly in the little dorm kitchen, and the smell filled the room. He tossed in the seasoning, stirred it well and let the warmth hit him as he slurped a few bites.

He wouldn’t exactly call himself a 5 star michelin, but it was always good enough.

Once he cleaned up, he crawled into bed, exhausted but not really. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying that post, the way Jisung carried himself, the boldness of it all. Minho sighed, rolling onto his side, scrolling through his phone before curiosity got the better of him.

He opened Instagram and typed in hanjisung.

Public profile. Thousands of followers.

He scowled, muttering, “Annoying.”

But he kept scrolling. Gym photos. Mirror selfies. Pics with friends tagged. Captions that tried way too hard. At first, he laughed at how ridiculous it all was, but then his attention lingered longer than he wanted.

There was something about the way Jisung carried himself in each photo, playful, confident, totally unbothered by anyone watching. Minho felt a strange heat spread through him, cheeks flushed, chest tightening.

“God, how could anyone even like him?” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. But his thumb kept hovering, scrolling for just one more photo, one more story. Curiosity had him hooked, and for some reason, he couldn’t stop.

He scrolled further. Way too far. A post popped up with someone tagged, supposedly a friend named Lee Felix. In the photo, Felix had freckles and blond hair, standing next to a girl Minho didn’t recognize. Both were in high heels and were wearing revealing clothing.

But Jisung… Jisung was wearing a black blouse with a very black sparkly corset on top and smokey makeup. They were holding a bunch of money in a dimly lit purple room.

Minho froze. “That looks like the fucking strip club Mingi told me about-“ he muttered.

Now he was even more intrigued. He went to Felix’s account. Nothing that answered his suspicion. Just chaotic memes and selfies and some baking recepies— ?

Then he stumbled onto the girls account. And suddenly, things started making sense. It looked like all three of them worked at strip clubs.

But why wasn’t Jisung wearing the same thing as them?

Minho lay back on his bed, phone hovering above his face, staring at Jisungs expression in the photo. That playful grin, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on people.

Minho let out a laugh that sounded too much like defeat. “What the fuck are you, Han Jisung?”

Chapter Text

Tuesdays sucked, but Thursdays weren’t much better. At least not for Minho.

The morning started almost the same way: chris staring into nowhere rethinking his life decisions and how many more pack of sleep gummies he needs to eat to actually get a decent sleep

Changbin yelling about how hungry he was,
and Hyunjin nearly falling asleep face first onto his notebook. Minho didn’t even know why he bothered coming to class anymore. Nobody paid attention, except maybe Soobin, but he was a lost cause anyway.

“Lee” Changbin mumbled, leaning across the table. “You got snacks?”

Minho gave him a dead stare. “Do I look like your mom?”

“Kinda actually” Hyunjin said immediately, not even lifting his head.

The table burst into laughter, and Minho groaned, shoving his notebook into his bag.

By the time classes ended, they all piled out into the courtyard. Soobin and Yeonjun were going all out about something stupid,
probably like who was hotter between two actors and Joshua was trying to keep them from killing each other.

Then came Mingi, the human megaphone.
An absolute dimwit stuck in a hot body

“Gays!” he shouted, waving like an idiot until half the school was staring. “Tonight the bar. We’re all going.”

“Absolutely not” chan said before he could even catch his breath.

“I have an exam” Changbin added.

“I have a nap scheduled” Hyunjin muttered and shrugged.

Soobin shook his head. “Midterms are next week.”

Only Yeonjun perked up. “Tf? I’m in.”

“Of course YOU are” Soobin muttered under his breath.

Mingi threw his hands up “You guys are the most boring group of twenty year olds I’ve ever met. What’s the point of being in college if you don’t go out and live a little?”

“We live just fine” Chan said, crossing his arms.

“No, you exist, and that’s just barely.” Mingi shot back. “And thats depressing.”

Everyone rolled their eyes and started walking back toward the dorms, but Mingi wasn’t done. He jogged up to Minho, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“You, my closeted fella” he said, lowering his voice “are coming with me. Everyone else has already been, ur the only one left.”

Minho glanced at him, unimpressed. “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

“You’ll thank me later, trust” Mingi grinned, steering him toward the path.

Minho shook him off, but deep down he knew mingi wouldn’t take no as an answer

***

The rest of the day was a blur of chaos, laughter, and ridiculousness.

In the library, Changbin was watching mukbangs, while Hyunjin whispered loudly to Soobin about the “tragic decline of penmanship in modern society.” Yeonjun had headphones in, bobbing his head, muttering song lyrics as if the library wasn’t intented for (stu)dying.

Mingi was sitting across from Minho, poking him every thirty seconds to ask, “Are you thinking about the bar yet?”

Minho was not thinking about the bar. He was trying, and failing to focus on his notes while pretending that Mingis constant reminders weren’t slowly grinding him down.

“You’re gonna love it” Mingi said, leaning over, elbow nudging Minho’s side. “Everyone says it’s lifechanging. You have no idea what you’re missing.”

“Yeah, I’m sure watching grown men throw money at a stage is exactly what my soul needs” Minho muttered, scribbling something on his paper just to avoid eye contact.

Yeonjun snorted. “Don’t act like you’ve never been curious.”

“I’m curious about literally anything else” Minho replied.

***

Lunch.
The cafeteria smelled like burnt noodles. meat, and despair (?)
Changbin was analyzing the nutritional content of the ketchup packets while Hyunjin burned his tongue on soup.

“Guys do u think im mature for my age” Hyunjin asked, staring at his spoon.
Soobin looked at him “Hyunjin wha-”

“fuck no” yeonjun answered for soobin while sitting on his lap.

Minho had just taken a bite of his rice when Mingi leaned across the table

“You’ll come with me tonight” Mingi whispered, grinning like it was a promise of eternal happiness.

“I’ll come when trash starts talking” Minho muttered, shoving another bite of food in his mouth.

You could hear a very faint “You’re talking right now Minho!” From the other side of the table, coming from the 13 people that never did anything separated.

“You’ll see” Mingi said, smirking. “You’ll see…”

***

After lunch, the group split up for classes. Minho and Mingi ended up walking together because Mingi refused to leave him alone.

“You can’t just hide in your dorm all day, Min” Mingi said. “It’s unnatural. You need energy, excitement, adventure—”

“Or a nap perchance?” Minho interrupted, raising his eyebrows.

“U can’t just say perchance! You already have energy, you just don’t know it, i promise it’ll be fun, may Jungkook stop smoking if im lying” Mingi shot back.

“We both know that’d never happen” minho gave him a side eye

“Yeah that’s kinda the point”

Minho rolled his eyes so hard he was worried they’d get stuck.

***
Across campus, Hyunjin was ‘quietly’ loudly critizising a professor’s fashion choice, and soobin and yeonjun stood behind him for mental support while some people in class were dry gagging.
***

By the time evening rolled around, Minho was exhausted. He practically ran back to the dorms with the group, everyone talking over each other about midterms, laundry, and whose personality seemed the mist fuckable, while Mingi continued to hype the bar like it was the eighth wonder of the world.

“You’ll come eventually” Mingi said, leaning against Minho’s doorframe. “And when you do, you’ll thank me. Mark my words.”

Minho sighed and rolled his eyes as he went inside. But even as he shut the door, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

What is it about this bar that everyone’s so obsessed with?

And that thought… stuck.

***

By the time Minho finally gave in, Mingi was practically dragging him down the street. The neon sign buzzed in the distance, half blinding and half hypnotizing, and Minho groaned.

“Stop acting like u dont wanna go ” Mingi said.

“Yes, cuz im sooo excited, id go out of my way to see people grinding on eachother while being drunk, that’s defo my cup of tee. ” Minho muttered, but the smallest part of him was curious.

They pushed open the door, and the chaos hit immediately. Lights flashing, bass shaking the floor, people yelling over the music. The whole place smelled like beer, perfume, and hornyness.

On stage, Felix— FELIX!?
The blonde freckled boy that he always saw on Jisungs insta posts was moving like he was born to be on that stage.

Glitter catching the lights, every spin precise, every jump fun, u could see he loved doing it in his movements and eyes, they way they sparkled when the club light hit them. Next to him, the girl Minho had seen with them was laughing, hair flying, clearly having the time of her life. The crowd was eating it up.

Then Minho’s eyes found the bar.

Han Jisung.

Not in the crowd, not on stage, just standing there behind the counter. Black sleeves rolled, chains glinting, pouring drinks with one hand while making some poor guy grin so hard it looked painful. Every time he leaned over, another bill slid into the tip jar.

Minho froze.

Mingi elbowed him. “Surprised?”

Minho tried to say something but nothing came out. Shocked. Confused. Maybe a little… annoyed that Jisung could make a room feel like it was all about him.

Yeonjun leaned over. “Stop staring, Lee. You’re giving yourself away.”

“JESUS… ur here, why am i surprised that ur here-“

“Either way, I’m not staring” Minho muttered, though his chest felt weird.

He tried to focus on anything else. The music, the stage, Felix and the girl laughing mid spin, people dancing on tables.
Hyunjin was yelling random compliments, and Soobin was quietly judging everyone around his boyfie.

Mingi was smirking. “See? Told you. Everyone’s obsessed.”

Minho shook his head. “I can’t believe he’s a bartender. Of all people. Id expect him to be the clubs main event, the one on stage”

“Right?” Mingi said, grinning. “No one saw that coming.”

Minho felt the absurdity of it all hitting him. Here he was, surrounded by friends, chaos, loud music, glitter, and somehow… he couldn’t stop noticing Jisung. Just standing there, making it look effortless.

The way he slid his finger against the peoples chests just to get a few dollars slid into his tip jar at the end of his table.
Or the way he smiled so adorably and got so excited when someone bought him cheesecake.
All of this, for some reason sickened Minho.

Not in a ‘ew’ kind of way

more of a ‘i want u to do that to me not them’

Chapter Text

Minho was already sick of the bar after having more than 3 drinks. Mingi had vanished into the crowd to let everyone know his name is ‘S-O-N-G M-I-N-G-I” and Yeonjun was gossiping with a random girl like he hadn’t seen her is soooo long. Meanwhile, Minho was slouched in the booth with his half empty drink, wondering why he didn’t just stay home and watch Netflix.

Well erm. Actually, he knew why.

Han Jisung.

The guy was everywhere tonight, but not in the way Minho expected. He wasn’t on stage like Felix, who was sparkling under the lights like some glittery demon. I’m pretty sure Minho had this thought at least 3 times already, but the tipsy-ness got to him, so he couldn’t really think straight.
Jisung was behind the bar, sleeves rolled up, chains catching the glow every time he leaned forward to pour someone a drink.

The tip jar looked like it was about to explode. Every single person sitting at the counter was either laughing hard or blushing like they’d just been slapped out of a dream.

And Jisung knew what he was doing.

Every wink, every “oops, did I spill a little?” lean forward, every casual “so what’s your name, handsome?”

Minho should’ve rolled his eyes and gone back to sulking in his depressed corner. Instead, he caught himself staring. Hard.

“Stop burning holes into his face, Lee” Yeonjun’s voice came out of nowhere, sweaty and smirking after dancing. “You’re not subtle.”

“I’m not staring”Minho muttered.

Yeonjun leaned over, resting his chin on Minho’s shoulder like an annoying cat. “You so are. You’ve got that look, like… oh my god, I hate him but also please ruin my life, or better, ruin me!!!!” Yeonjun said in a dramatic way, placing his hand on his forehead with a little final gasp at the end.

Minho shoved him off. “Shut up.”

He downed the rest of his drink for courage, or maybe stupidity, and next thing he knew, his feet were carrying him toward the bar.

Jisung spotted him instantly. That cocky grin appeared, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Well, if it isn’t thee Lee Minho” he said, leaning against the counter. “What can I get you? A drink? Or something stronger?” He said with a wink.

Minho raised a brow, words tripping over his tongue thanks to the alcohol buzzing in his system. “If you keep flirting with me like that, people might think you actually like me.”

Jisung’s smirk widened. “What if I do? Ur the only one that has showed 0 interest in me, it intrigues me.”

Minho’s brain internally screamed. He coughed, tried to look cool, failed uhm…. miserably. “You’re… annoying.”

“And you’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

Jisung leaned in, close enough that Minho could smell his cologne over the sour-sweet mess of the bar. “You totally are.”

Minho wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come. His heart was beating way too fast for him to think straight.

They went back and forth like that, Minho snapping, Jisung twisting every insult into something flirty, Minho drinking too much just to keep himself from storming off. And then Jisung checked the clock, stretched his arms above his head, and said, “Break time. Come with me.”

It wasn’t a question.

Minho followed, because apparently he’d lost all self control tonight.

The hallway behind the bar was dark and quiet compared to the main room. Before Minho could make a dumb comment, Jisung spun him around, grabbed his shirt, and roughly kissed him.

Minho’s back hit the wall. His head spun. It wasn’t careful or gentle, Jisung kissed like he was proving somethin. Hot and messy, biting just enough to make Minho groan and whimper against his mouth.
Minho’s hands were fisting at his shirt, pulling him closer because holy shit, this was actually happening.

Jisung pulled back for a split second, lips swollen and eyes bright. “U taste so much better than I imagined” he said, smirking.

Jisung looked him deep in the eyes“Oh? So you already imagined me kissing you?”

Minho’s face was on fire. “You’re— shut up—”

But then Jisung was kissing him again, and Minho shut up real quick.

It went on like that, hands grabbing, tongue clashing, until Jisung finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with his thumb. “Break’s over” he said, already fixing his shirt like nothing happened. “If you wanna have more of me, speak to me in school.”

And just like that, he disappeared back into the noise.

Minho leaned against the wall, hair messed up, lips sore, brain fried.

“…What the actual fuck” he muttered to himself, still trying to catch his breath.

AN/ I apologise for this short chapter, but i hope u still enjoy it. I have a lot going on rn and i can’t keep up with the scheadule all the time!

Chapter Text

Minho couldn’t move at first. He just stared at the door Jisung had walked out of, trying to process what the hell had just happened. His lips still felt swollen and tingly, his shirt collar was stretched, and his brain lowk giving up…

He smacked both hands over his face. “Nope. Nope nope nope. That did not just happen. I didn’t just—” he cut himself off, groaning so loudly it echoed down the empty hallway. He slid down the wall more dramatically than Hyunjin ever could, until he was sitting on the gross floor, knees pulled up, face buried in his palms. “I’m an idiot. Oh my god, i could’ve made out with ANYONE else.”

The bass from the club shook the floor under him, dragging him back to reality. He sat there for maybe three more seconds before bolting upright. He had to leave. Now. If he stayed, Jisung might come back. And if Jisung came back, Minho was one hundred percent going to do something even dumber than only making out in the hallway like a horny freshman.

So he stumbled out of the back hall, pushing through the heavy door into flashing neon lights and noise. The club was still packed, sweat and glitter everywhere, people shouting over the music.

And of course, the first thing he saw was Yeonjun, shirt half unbuttoned, standing on a table and trying to body roll to the beat while a group of freshmen screamed like he was headlining Coachella.

Minho stopped dead in his tracks. “…Jesus Christ on a fucking wheel chair.”

Mingi was right there too, screaming like he was Yeonjun’s personal hype man. “AYEEE SHAKE THAT SHIT, YES YEONJUN! YOU’RE SEXY AYE!”

The table wobbled under Yeonjun’s feet. For a second, Minho thought maybe Yeonjun had actual balance. Then he spun too hard, slipped, and fell flat on his ass. The crowd started laughing like hyenas.

Yeonjun just jumped back up, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, throwing his arms in the air like nothing had happened. “I MEANT TO DO THAT!”

“Of course you did” Minho muttered, dragging himself through the crowd.

When he reached the table, Yeonjun spotted him instantly. “MINHO!” he screamed, flinging his arms around him like he’d just come back from war. “Did you see me? I’m a star. I’m literally born for this. Literally better than Felix”

“You’re literally drunk” Minho grumbled, peeling him off.

Mingi popped up behind him with two beers, shoving one in Minho’s hand “Hyung, you look… uh…” he paused, squinting at Minho’s face. “Did you just see a ghost? Or did someone finally confess their undying love to you?”

“Nothing happened” Minho said way too fast.

Both of them went silent for a second, and then Yeonjun gasped like he just understood the plot to the BOY NEXT WORLD “OH MY GOD, YOU DID. HE DID SOMETHING.”

“I didn’t do anything” Minho snapped.

Mingi smirked. “You totally did. Who was it?”

“Nobody!” Minho snapped again, shoving past them. “I want to go home. Now.”

Yeonjun clutched his chest like he’d just been stabbed. “Home? At midnight? You’re worse than Bahng Christopher Chan.”

Minho ignored him and made a beeline for the door. He needed air. He needed to erase Jisung’s stupid smirk from his brain. He needed to never think about this night again.

The three of them spilled out onto the sidewalk, the cool night air slapping Minho in the face. He immediately fumbled for his lighter, lighting the cigarette he’d left once again, untouched. His hands were shaking a little. The flame flared, the smoke hit his lungs, and for a second, he felt like maybe he could breathe again.

Then he remembered Jisung’s lips, the way he’d leaned in like it was the most casual thing in the world, and Minho nearly choked on his own exhale.

Mingi leaned against the wall like nothing was wrong, sipping his beer. “So. You gonna tell us what happened? Or do we have to play twenty questions?”

“I already told u, Nothing happened” Minho said through clenched teeth.

“Nothing happened” Yeonjun mimicked in a whiny voice, leaning into Mingi’s shoulder. “Yeah right. Look at his face. He looks like he just got caught cheating on his wife of five years.”

Mingi snorted. “Nah, worse. He looks like he just kissed someone he wasn’t supposed to.”

Minho froze.

Yeonjun’s jaw dropped. “WAIT. DID YOU?”

Minho glared at both of them. “Shut. Up.”

That, of course, only made them louder.

“You hooked up with a random girl” Yeonjun guessed.
“No, no” Mingi shook his head, “it was definitely a guy. Look at him, no once of ‘straight-ness’ in this man”
“True, true” Yeonjun agreed immediately. “Was it Jungsu? Please tell me it was Jungsu.”
“Or Hyunjin!” Mingi added. “Oh my god, was it Hyunjin?”

“Neither” Minho said flatly, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Yeonjun gasped “It was Jisung, wasn’t it?”

The smoke almost went down the wrong pipe. Minho coughed, eyes watering, turning away so they wouldn’t see how red his face went.

“Oh my god, it WAS!” Yeonjun screeched, pointing at him. “You made out with HAN JISUNG!”

“SHUT UP” Minho barked, shoving him so hard Yeonjun stumbled into Mingi.

Passersby gave them weird looks as they staggered down the street like idiots, Minho stomping ahead while Yeonjun and Mingi were laughing there asses off behind him.

By the time they made it back to the dorms, Minho was one second away from smashing their skulls open. Yeonjun was still going, arms flailing as he reenacted how he thought the kiss happened.

“And then—Jisung leans in like this—” Yeonjun grabbed Mingi’s face dramatically and puckered his lips.

“Get off me!” Mingi shoved him away, laughing so hard he almost tripped over the stairs.

Minho shoved his key into the dorm door like his life depended on it. “If either of you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll kill you.”

“Bro” Mingi said, trying to wipe tears from his eyes, “you literally left the club looking like you’d just seen god. People are gonna figure it out.”

Minho threw his bag onto the couch and collapsed face first into his bed. Maybe if he slept for twelve hours straight, he’d wake up and realize this was just some fever dream.

But even with Yeonjun and Mingi still laughing down the hall, Minho couldn’t stop thinking about Jisung.

And the worst part? He didn’t want to. He wanted to feel him again, hold him, smell him.
He didn’t like the thought of Jisung hanging out with others at the bar.

Minho exhaled, more of a whimper “ahh Han Jisung, do u even know what you’re doing to me…”

Chapter Text

The knock on Minho’s door started as a polite little tap. Then it turned into pounding, and then straight up banging like someone was trying to break in.

“Lee Minho!” Hyunjin’s voice rang out like a damn foghorn. “Open up, you slut!”

Minho groaned and buried his head under his pillow. His skull was still pounding from last night. He’d barely gotten to sleep after Yeonjun and Mingi wouldn’t shut up about The Incident, and now apparently the sequel was here to kill him.

The door creaked open anyway, because of course his idiot friends knew the code, and suddenly all three of them were barging in like a museum tour squad.

Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chan. The holy trinity of loud + Chan…

Changbin immediately yanked Minho’s blanket off him. “Rise and shine, Romeo. We heard you got your first kiss last night.”

Minho sat up and threw the nearest pillow at his head. “I’ll kill you.”

Hyunjin flopped dramatically onto the bed, grinning like a ferret he is. “So… how good was it?”

“Yeah, yeah” Changbin wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeonjun said you looked like you saw heaven. Mingi said you looked like you were gonna pass out. Which one is it?”

Chan leaned against the desk, arms crossed, trying to look like the serious dad of the group but failing miserably because he was biting back a smile. “I’m just impressed you managed to pull Jisung of all people. That guy’s like… untouchable. Which is kind of ironic but he is…”

Minho’s jaw dropped. Only now realising what they’re talking about “WAIT THOSE TWO TOLD YOU?!”

Hyunjin cackled, rolling onto his stomach. “Duh. Yeonjun literally screamed it across the hallway last night when we came back. Everyone on the second floor knows by now.”

“ i hate all of you” Minho muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Changbin sat cross legged at the end of the bed, leaning forward like he was about to hear the greatest story ever told. “Come on, hyung. Was it good? Bad? Did he bite you? Did you use tongue?”

“Stop talking” Minho snapped.

“That means yes” Hyunjin sang, poking him in the side.

Minho swatted his hand away. “Nothing happened. It was— he was on break, okay? He just—” his brain stopped working halfway through the sentence, and he ended up blurting “—it was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Chan raised his brows. “You don’t look like a guy who had nothing happen.”

And that’s when Minho realized how bad this was. Because yeah, maybe he had stayed up replaying it a little too many times in his head. And maybe he was already wondering when Jisung’s next shift was. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to go back and see him again.

But none of them needed to know that.

“Drop it” Minho grumbled, shoving himself off the bed. He stomped toward his desk, pretending he had something important to do.

Of course, they didn’t drop it.

Hyunjin followed him like a shadow. “You’re blushing. Oh my god, you like him.”

“I don’t.”

“You do!” Hyunjin gasped dramatically. “Lee Minho has a crush. History in the making!”

Changbin smirked. “Makes sense. I mean, half the campus is in love with Jisung already. Dude’s a menace behind the bar.”

That made something twist in Minho’s chest. He froze halfway through pretending to shuffle papers. “What do you mean half the campus?”

Chan shrugged. “You haven’t seen it? Every time I’ve been there, he’s got, like, a whole fan club lined up just to order drinks from him. He’s basically printing money with how much people tip him.”

Hyunjin snorted. “Last week I saw some guy tip him with a whole concert ticket. Like, front row. Just slid it into the jar.”

Changbin nodded. “And Jisung smiled at him. I swear the guy almost fainted.”

Something ugly sparked in Minho’s stomach, and he hated it. He slammed his drawer shut harder than necessary. “That’s stupid. Who tips with a ticket?”

“Jealous?” Hyunjin sang again.

“I’m not jealous” Minho snapped.

Chan smirked. “Sure you’re not.”

Hyunjin leaned his chin on Minho’s shoulder, poking him again. “Aw, look at you. Our little Minho, catching feelings.”

“Say feelings one more time and I’ll throw you out the window,” Minho threatened.

Changbin snickered. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Ice Cold. Just admit it’s driving you insane that everyone wants a piece of him.”

Minho shoved Hyunjin off and turned, glaring. “Fine. So what if it pisses me off? You guys won’t shut up about him either!”

The room went quiet for a second.

Then Hyunjin’s smirk widened. “Ohhh. Ohhhh. You’re serious.”

Chan held up his hands like a referee. “Okay, okay, before you strangle each other, let’s just say this. You like Jisung, he’s popular, it’s not the end of the world. Just… don’t let it eat you alive, yeah?”

Minho clenched his jaw. He didn’t say anything, just grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Changbin asked.

“Breakfast” Minho muttered, storming out.

And yeah, maybe his stomach twisted again when he realized the cafeteria might be packed with people who’d seen Jisung before him, laughed with him, gotten his little winks and smiles. Maybe he was already imagining Jisung leaning over the counter for someone else the way he’d leaned into Minho last night.

And maybe that was exactly why Minho was walking faster than usual, like he needed to get there first.

He needed his attention.

//AN: IM SO SORRY I ONLY NOW REALISED I DIDN’T POST ON AO3

Chapter Text

“Bro, if you eat that last dumpling I swear to god—” Changbin’s chopsticks hovered threateningly over Hyunjin’s tray.

“U ALREADY HAD FOUR U FAT ASS” Hyunjin shot back, popping it into his mouth before Changbin could even blink. “HWANG HYUN-“ binnie almost opened Hyunjins mouth open just to get his desired dumpling.

Chan rubbed his temples. “One meal. That’s all I ask. One meal without violence.”

“Yeah well, tell that to Mr. Big Back over here.” Hyunjin mumbled through a mouthful.

“First swallow, then u speak, you animal” Minho muttered, stabbing his rice.

The cafeteria was its usual chaos. Trays clattered, kids yelled across tables, Yeonjun was giving Soobin puppy eyes to skip their next lecture and probably go make out in some random alley as always. Mingi was late as per usual, probably still napping somewhere in a classroom.

But Minho wasn’t paying attention to any of that. His eyes kept drifting across the room, landing on the one person he swore he wasn’t looking for.

Han Jisung.

He was perched on a table with his legs crossed, Felix beside him, and Seungmin and Jeongin squeezed into the same space like some kind of mini family, cute. Jisung was loud, dramatic, sassy, and laughing hard at whatever Felix had just said. Jeongin was cackling too, while Seungmin just shook his head like he was babysitting all three of them.

“Damn, he’s really putting on a show today” Yeonjun whistled, following Minho’s gaze.

“Quiet a bit- UHM… can u like shut up.” Minho snapped.

Hyunjin perked up, catching on instantly. “Wait. Are you—”

“I said shut up.”

It should’ve ended there. But then Minho saw it, some random guy he didn’t recognize walking up and sliding an arm around Jisung’s shoulders.
He was
Way
Too
Close.
Whispering in his ear. Jisung tilted his head back, giggling, and Seungmin actually facepalmed, stood up and left.

In Minhos head there was already a picture perfect air fryer painted with that dude in it.

“Jesus Christ” Changbin stared. “Why are you built like that?”

Then the guy tilted Jisungs puffy cheeks, and there eyes met.

Last
String.

Minho was already on his feet, crossing the cafeteria with his jaw locked. He didn’t even think once. He just marched straight to the table, grabbed Jisung by the wrist, and pulled him down before anyone could react.

“May i disturbe you-“ Minho said with the most painful sarcastic smile ever
The guy looked him up and down“ wha no who are yo-“
“It was Nice meeting you.” Minhos smile dropped completly as he looked Jisung dead in the eyes

The cat like boy grabbed the quokkas wrist. Hard. “Uh—” Jisung blinked up at him like Minho had just kidnapped him in broad daylight.

“We’re leaving” Minho muttered, ignoring Felix’s raised brows, and Jeongin’s open mouthed dolphin squeel.

He dragged Jisung through the cafeteria, all eyes on them, everyone whispering
“HA! And he tried denying the fact that he liked him, i know best” Yeonjun just blurted out getting side eyes from everyone at his table

When they got out of that hell hole, he dragged him down the hall, and shoved him into an empty storage room that smelled like bleach and dusty mop handles. The door slammed shut behind them.

Click. Minho locked the door

“Okay” Jisung yanked his wrist back, breathless. “What the actual hell was that?”

Minho didn’t answer. He closed the distance and crushed their mouths together.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t thoughtful. It was messy, desperate, like he’d been holding it back too long. Jisung gasped, stumbled against the shelves, but then his hands fisted in Minho’s hoodie and he kissed him back like he wanted it just as bad.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were panting, lips swollen.

Jisung laughed shakily. “I thought you hated me.”

“I do” Minho shot back, too fast.

“Really?” Jisung smirked, still catching his breath. “This is a weird way of showing it. As far as i remember enemies don’t kiss like this. Maybe in some wattpad story they would.”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “Oh shut, i just needed to calm down somehow.”

It was the weakest lie of his life. They both knew it.

Jisung tilted his head, thumb brushing Minho’s jaw. “Calm down. Right. You kiss like you’re trying to kill me.”

Minho panted lightly “well… maybe im just saving u from creeps like that guy!”
Jisung giggled, oh. What a beautiful sound it was “awhhh, is our minnie jelous of Kai Rover? Come on, hes the most popular guy at school. I had to shoot my shot. But this… well i think it’s safe to say that Mr. Rover won’t be coming over.”

“Ur talking way too much about this Kai guy” Minho shut him up with another kiss, hungrier this time, like denying the fact he wanted him so bad only made him want more. And Jisung didn’t complain.

Because the truth was obvious now, even if Minho refused to say it out loud, he had never hated Han Jisung. Not even close.

He could never say that to himself tho. But minho knew that it was never hatered but it was a down bad obsession with Han Jisung.

Minho moved down to kiss Jisung neck, making him whimper.
Oh god it sounded like heaven.
While Jisung was completly lost in his euphoria, Minho muttered under his breath
“Han Jisung, you are mine. No one else gets to see you like this —

— Only I do.”

Chapter Text

JISUNG

“Your lips look wrecked” Jeongin said the second they stepped off campus. He grinned like a little shit.

Jisung didn’t even blink. “Thanks for noticing. Natural beauty.”

Seungmin groaned and smacked Jeongin’s arm. “Don’t boost his ego. It’s already higher than Hongjoongs… and trust me, he has a big ego…”

Jisung shoved his hands into his cropped hoodie, grinning to himself. “It’s not ego if it’s true. Anyway, shut up, I’ve got work.”

The club was already loud enough to make his chest rattle by the time they got there. Strobe lights, sticky floors, the whole deal. Jeongin practically dove into the crowd. Seungmin followed slower, muttering under his breath about regretting his life choices.

Jisung, on the other hand, slipped behind the bar like he owned it. Black shirt, sleeves rolled, chains glinting. One smirk and suddenly everyone wanted to tip. He poured shots with one hand, winked with the other, and by the time thirty minutes passed, his tip jar was already stuffed like it was payday.

During his break, he ducked into the back lounge. Felix was spread out like a dead starfish on the couch, glitter still all over him, and the girl— jessie, was scrolling through her phone like she didn’t care about the world ending.

“You look like a tragic disco ball,” Jisung said, kicking Felix’s foot out of the way before dropping into a chair.

Felix cracked one eye open. “And you look suspiciously smug. Spill.”

Jisung leaned back, crossing his arms. “Everything’s moving smoothly. The guy’s basically wrapped.”

The girl snorted. “No way. Already?”

“Already,” Jisung said, grinning. “He doesn’t even know he’s in the net. It’s cute.”

Felix sat up a little, squinting at him. “Lee Minho? Mr. Resting Bitch Face himself? That guy? You’re telling me he likes you?”

“Likes is a strong word,” Jisung said, grabbing Felix’s water bottle and drinking half of it. “Let’s just say he’s… distracted.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “You sound like a Bond villain.”

“Yeah, but a hot one,” Jisung shot back instantly. He stood up, adjusted his shirt in the mirror, and pointed at Felix. “Don’t wait up.”

“Bro, you didn’t even finish explaining!” Felix called after him.

“I don’t explain,” Jisung said, already pushing the door open. “I deliver.”

His phone buzzed right then. A notification from insta. A text lit up the screen.

[meanhooe] : where are you, you can’t just run like that after what happened in the storage room.
Accept this message?

Jisung grinned so wide he had to bite it back before going out into the noise again.

The second Jisung walked back out, someone already yelled his name.

“Bartender! Sexy bartender!”

He didn’t even look at the guy waving a twenty from across the bar. “Sir, that’s not my government name.” Still, he slid over, poured him some neon blue shit, and pocketed the bill before the guy even blinked. Heh.

Seungmin appeared at the bar not two minutes later, dragging Jeongin by the collar like he was babysitting a toddler. “He almost fell into the DJs booth” Seungmin deadpanned.

Jeongin raised his arms like it was some kind of Olympic victory. “HEY DON’T BLAME ME! It’s literally cawlr (Løren) of course im gonna go crazy about him!!!”

“Bro, you were about to be electrocuted” Seungmin muttered.

Jisung leaned across the counter, smirking. “And I would’ve had to make your funeral hot.”

“Shut up” Seungmin said, snatching Jeongin’s soda. “Don’t you have customers to scam?”

“It’s called customer service, Min” Jisung shot back, tossing a lime into his drink shaker without looking. The customer across from him was practically melting at the attention. Another twenty slid into the jar.

Seungmin narrowed his eyes. “You really think you’re slick, huh?”

“I don’t think” Jisung said, sliding the finished drink across the bar with a wink. “I know.”

Behind him, Felix and Jessie hopped off stage, glitter sticking to their skin like they rolled around in an arts and crafts bin. Felix’s hair was plastered to his forehead, but he still grinned wide.

“You missed it” Felix said, flopping onto a barstool. “I almost slipped but turned it into a move. Would’ve sharted ur pants if you saw that, i guarantee that.”

Jisung handed him a water while giggling. “okay lady glitter sparkle— minus the fat”

Jessie smirked, sipping her drink. “And what does that make me?”

“I’d say like… that fat ass prince that lady glitter sparkle was dating?” Jisung said while holding his laugh in, his lips in a straight line slightly curved at the ends— trying not to smile.
then he turned as someone else waved him down. He left them laughing while he went back to work.

By the time his shift was halfway done, his jar was overflowing. A group of freshmen tried to hit on him at the same time, asking dumb questions like, “So… do you come here often?” He bit his tongue not to laugh.

“Every Thursday and during the weekends” he said smoothly. “But if you want to see me outside of work…” He let the sentence dangle, just enough to watch their faces go red before walking away. Professional. Clean. Fun.

From the corner of his eye, though, he caught something else.

A familiar figure had slipped into the crowd. Someone who didn’t belong here, well not really at least.

Minho.

Standing stiff like he’d rather die than admit he was here, but his eyes were locked on Jisung, those sharp narrow cat eyes that screamed posession. Like the people around Jisung weren’t actually even there.

Jisung smiled to himself, pretending not to notice, but every time he leaned forward, every time he laughed at some dumb joke the customers made, he knew Minho was watching.

And that was the fun part.

‘Oh minnie i’m gonna enjoy playing with u so much…’

Chapter Text

“Okay, Lee Minho, I’m gonna say this once” Mingi said, slamming his drink down. “If you keep staring at the bar like that, the whole bar is gonna catch on fire.”

“I’m not staring” Minho said, not moving his eyes.

“Then what are you doing?” Yeonjun asked, half laughing.

“Observing.”

“Observing his tongue in someone else’s ear?”

Minho turned his head faster than Jay on that one live, giving him a death glare, Yeonjun nearly choked on his blue fruity drink called ‘hormone monster’.

“Bro, calm down” Mingi said, leaning back in the booth, smirking. “He’s just working. You remember that, right? You partially, literally met because of his job.”

Minho rubbed his temple. “Don’t remind me.”

Truth was, ever since that night, the backroom, the taste of cheap vodka and Jisung’s lip gloss, the way his laugh had rung in his ears even after they were done, Minho hadn’t been able to think straight. Every time he tried to convince himself it was just a drunken mistake, his brain decided to replay it like a highlight reel.

Now Jisung was right there again. Behind the bar, looking like trouble wrapped in confidence, sleeves rolled to his elbows, flirting with customers like he wasn’t the reason Minho’s brain was fried.

Mingi followed his gaze. “You look like you’re trying to solve a murder.”

“I’m trying to solve why he’s acting like that didn’t happen” Minho muttered, knocking back a sip of his drink.

Yeonjun laughed. “Maybe because it’s a bar, not a therapy session.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“No, actually” Yeonjun said proudly.

Minho groaned. He didn’t know what was worse, his friends clowning him, or Jisung pretending like nothing ever happened. He looked fine. Like perfectly fine. Too fine. Laughing, leaning across the counter, hand brushing some guy’s wrist while pouring a drink.

Minho’s jaw tightened before he even realized.

“God, you’re jealous” Mingi said, sounding entertained.

“I’m not jealous” Minho said instantly.

Yeonjun raised his brows. “Right, and I’m not hot.”

“You’re not” Minho said.

“See? Lying is a bad habit.”

Mingi snorted. “If you’re not jealous, then why are you gripping your glass like ur probably gripping ur hard on thinking about Jisungie?””

Minho didn’t answer just shot him a death glare. He looked down at his half empty cup, sighed, then stood up before either of them could say anything else.

“Where you going?”

“To get another drink.”

Yeonjun smirked. “Uh huh. Sure.”

Minho ignored them and started walking toward the bar. Every step made his pulse pick up. The closer he got, the louder the music hit, the brighter the lights felt. He leaned against the counter, trying to look calm.

Jisung noticed him right away. Of course he did. The smirk that crossed his face made it obvious.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite hater, or stalker or whatever u wanan call yourself
he said, sliding over. “Thought u had enough the first time u went here, guess not”

“Didn’t plan on coming again, im practically dragged here every time.” Minho said.

“And yet, here you are.” Jisung leaned on the counter, chin resting on his palm. “What can I get you?”

Minho looked him dead in the eye, while impulsively but softly, biting at his bottom lip. “Something strong.”

“Strong like whiskey or strong like emotional damage?”

“Both.”

Jisung chuckled and turned to grab a bottle, shoulders rolling under that black shirt like he knew Minho was watching, which, of course, he was. When Jisung set the drink down, he didn’t pull his hand away right away, fingers brushing Minho’s for just a second.

“Still drinking away your regrets?” Jisung teased, voice low.

Minho smirked. “Regrets? You think I regret that night?”

“I don’t know” Jisung said, playing innocent. “You did leave in a rush.”

Minho’s throat went dry. He hadn’t even realized how much he wanted to hear Jisung talk about it until now.

“Maybe I should’ve stayed” he said quietly.

Jisung raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Minho leaned in, smirking. “Maybe I missed a round.”

That earned a laugh, the kind that made Jisung’s whole expression light up for a second. “You’re cute when you try to act smooth.”

“I wasn’t trying.” Minho shot back.

“Sure.” Jisung tilted his head. “Keep telling yourself that.”

For a second, neither of them said anything. The noise of the club blurred in the background, the bass, the crowd, the faint laughter from the booth where Mingi and Yeonjun were probably placing bets on whether Minho would crash and burn.

Jisung finally broke the silence, his tone softer but still teasing. “So what do you want, really? Another drink? Or something else?”

Minho hesitated, then grinned. “Guess you’ll find out if you stop running off after your shift.”

Jisung laughed, low and amused, before moving to help someone else down the bar. But before he left, he leaned in close enough for Minho to catch the faint smell of his cologne.

“Maybe I will.”

Minho sat there for a moment, brain somewhere between “holy shit” and “what the hell am I doing” then heard Yeonjun yell from the booth, “HYUNG, DID YOU JUST FLIRT? PROUD OF YOU MA MAN AYEEEE!”

He buried his face in his hands.

He was so screwed.

***

The bass from inside thumped through the walls, but stepping outside into the cooler night air felt like a tiny escape. Minho pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, dragging in a long breath.

He spotted someone leaning against the railing, flicking a cigarette into the wind. Without thinking, he walked over.

“Hey… uh, can I bum one?” he asked, nodding toward the cigarette.

The guy looked up, surprised, then smirked. “Sure. But you owe me a story if you take it.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “A story, huh? Fine.” He took the cigarette, lit it, and inhaled, the smoke sharp in his lungs. “So… what’s your name?”

“Taemin,” the guy said, offering a casual handshake. “And you?”

“Minho.” He shook it quickly, then leaned against the railing next to him, letting the music fade into the background.

“You come out here often?” Taemin asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“Not really,” Minho said, rolling his eyes. “Too loud inside, too many people getting drunk on bad decisions. I just… needed air.”

Taemin laughed. “Fair. But hey, the view’s better out here anyway. You can actually breathe.”

Minho smirked slightly. “Yeah, and you can actually… watch people without getting crushed by the crowd.”

He didn’t need to say who he was talking about. Taemin tilted his head toward the bar anyway, noticing the figure at the counter, Jisung, effortlessly owning the place.

“So that’s the bartender everyone’s losing their minds over?” Taemin asked.

Minho exhaled through his nose. “Yeah. That’s him.”

Taemin laughed softly. “I see why. Dude’s got… something. Can’t really explain it.”

Minho took another drag, silent for a few seconds, then muttered, “Yeah, he’s…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “He’s got everything… he’s perf- nevermind..”

“Never mind what?” Taemin asked, eyes curious.

Minho shook his head again. “Nothing. Just… complicated.”

Taemin nodded knowingly. “Ah. I get it. Some people just stick in your head for no reason.”

Minho looked at taemin with a ‘you get it’ kind of look, and let out a small laugh. “Exactly.”

There was a pause as they both leaned on the railing, listening to the muffled music and laughter from inside. For once, Minho wasn’t thinking about how flustered he got or how much he wanted to go back and… do something with Jisung. For now, it was just the night, a stranger, and a cigarette that somehow felt like a tiny lifeline.

“So… do you come here often?” Minho asked, mirroring Taemin’s earlier question.

Taemin laughed again. “Occasionally. Friends drag me sometimes. Tonight’s one of those nights.”

Minho nodded, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette away. “Guess I should head back… see if MY bartender’s still alive.” Emphisizing (idfk how to spell it but u get the point) on the mine

Taemin smirked. “Go get him, Minho. I’m rooting for you.”

Minho gave a small, awkward grin. “Thanks… I think.”

(After some time, Minho and Taemin got deeper into the toppic ‘Jisung’)

Minho kicked a small rock across the pavement, letting out a sharp breath. “Every time I hear my favorite songs on the radio… it’s him. Every damn time.”

Taemin raised an eyebrow. “Him?”

“Yeah, him” Minho said, voice climbing, frustration clear. “Han Jisung. That smug little—ugh, whatever the hell he is. The way he moves, the way people laugh at him… it’s everywhere, even when im doing things i love. I swear, every time I feed the stray cats down the street, I end up imagining him feeding them like some— some sort angel or something. And it pisses me off!”

Taemin smirked. “Wait, you picture him feeding cats?”

“I do! And don’t act like it’s normal!” Minho snapped, frustration very clear. “Or when I’m just walking down the street, headphones in, with my favorite the neighborhood song playing, and I—UGH—I imagine him dancing to it, hair falling into his face, smirking at me. And it drives me insane!”

“Is this how u speak about your enemies Minho?” Taemin said, trying not to laugh.

“Don’t u see how much i hate him, HE’S EVERYWHERE!!!” Minho shot back, hand gripping the railing. “I just… every little thing reminds me of him. Brushing my teeth? He’s there behind me. Making coffee? He’s there. Hell, even taking a dump—he’s there!”

Taemin choked on a laugh. “Okay..okay… that’s definitely obsession.”

“I hate him!” Minho shouted, gesturing wildly. “I hate everything about him! The way he’s everywhere in my head, the way people surround him all the time, laugh at his stupid jokes, the way he just… exists. Everywhere!”

Taemin grinned, clearly enjoying watching Minho unravel. “You keep saying hate, but your voice, and the way your eyes sparkle… doesn’t match. You’re breathing way too fast. Your hands are all tense. Look at you — you’re obsessed, Minho. Totally.”

Minho groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not obsessed. I just… it pisses me off! That’s all. And it’s ridiculous, okay? Ridiculous!”

Taemin’s grin widened. “Right. And all the times you mutter his name like a curse when you hear music, or see him in your head doing normal stuff… that’s just… what, auditory rage?”

“Exactly!” Minho shouted, stomping a foot. “But also mental torture! I can’t do anything without imagining him doing it with me or being better than me!! Reading a book? He’s sitting next to me, smirking, flipping pages faster. Eating ramen? He’s slurping louder than me. It’s infuriating!”

Taemin tilted his head, amused. “So…”

Minho clenched his fists, muttering under his breath, “IT’S PURE HATE DON’T YOU SEE. But I swear, he’s flirting with way too many people tonight, does he need money that bad or something!?…” He didn’t finish, but Taemin got the meaning loud and clear.

“And yet” Taemin said, smirking, “you’re standing out here with me, a total stranger, instead of telling these ‘problems’ to your actual friends.”

“i couldn’t do that, they’d laugh at me saying that im hooked. Im not. Hooked.” Minho said, blowing out a frustrated breath.

Taemin laughed again, shaking his head. “Right. I Totally disagree with your friends, u hate him. Definitely not hooked.”

Taemin leaned against the railing, observing closely, he sighed after seeing what state of confusion the younger is in. “Minho, look at you. You’re pacing, muttering, glaring at him like the world’s about to end if anyone so much as smiles at him. You call that hate? Hate doesn’t make you notice him in every stupid little thing you do. Hate doesn’t make you imagine him feeding cats, or walking down your street, or laughing at something nobody else hears. Hate doesn’t make your stomach twist when he’s around. That… that’s not hate.”

Minho froze, jaw tight, trying not to admit how true it sounded. “…I hate him,” he said, voice low, insisting more to himself than to Taemin.

“Sure” Taemin said, grinning, “hate that makes your chest beat faster when he’s near. Hate that makes you obsess over him in the most annoying ways possible. Hate that makes you want to shove him away from everyone else while thinking about him at the same time. Totally hate. Got it.”

“I said I hate him!” Minho snapped, though the edge in his voice was more defensive than angry. “…He’s impossible, that’s all. Infuriating. And yes, he gets under my skin, but that’s just… tactical. Pure hate. Nothing else.”

Taemin shook his head, smirking. “Yeah, tactical. Sure. Keep telling yourself that. But here’s the thing, you’ve been running from it, but you’re already wrapped around him. And it’s not going away just because you call it hate.”

Minho pressed a hand to his forehead, muttering under his breath, “…I hate him.”

Taemin leaned closer, voice softer more carying. “Maybe. Or maybe you just need to admit it to yourself first before anyone else sees it. Either way, denying it isn’t helping you… or stopping you from thinking about him every damn second.”

Minho swallowed, face heating up, but stubbornly muttered “…I still hate him.”

“Oh Minho” Taemin said, grinning knowingly. “Hate so good it’s basically an obsession. Got it.”

Minho glared at his cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stomping on it. the tension in his shoulders loosened slightly. “…Fine. hate. Just… leave it at that.”

Taemin just sighed “ah Minho, i wish u the best of luck with this situation…”

Chapter Text

“I’m out losers, I’ll see you around” Minho said, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

Mingi waved lazily from across the table, with some dude named Jungwoo, half drunk, Yeonjun already too busy flirting with Soobin over text. The air inside the bar felt thick and loud, lights flashing red and purple, but none of it stuck to Minho. He felt weirdly empty.

He turned to glance toward the bar one last time, expecting to see Jisung leaning over the counter, probably laughing, probably being too much. But the spot behind the bar was empty.

Minho scoffed under his breath. “Figures.”

He stepped out before anyone could stop him. The cold air hit his face, sharp enough to wake him up a little. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking, Taemin’s words still echoing in his head.

You don’t hate him. Hate doesn’t sound like that.

Minho snorted, kicking a crushed can on the ground. “What does that even mean?” he muttered. “I do hate him. He’s annoying. He’s full of himself. He does nothing, and gets everything in return. He’s—”

He stopped mid sentence, frowning like he’d caught himself saying something stupid.

The walk back felt longer than usual. Every streetlight buzzed faintly above him, painting the sidewalk in pale yellow. He could still hear the muffled music from the bar behind him, fading with every step, and the farther he got, the quieter everything felt.

He thought about how Taemin said that sometimes people lie to themselves because it’s easier than admitting what they really want. That line had made him laugh earlier. Now it just made him mad.

He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. He didn’t even remember how that got there, probably jungkooks doing as always. The lighter clicked, flame flickering weakly before catching. He took a slow drag, the smoke filling his lungs.

It didn’t help.

Because every time he did something he liked, his brain shoved Jisung into it. When he fed the stray cats behind the dorms, he imagined Jisung crouching next to him. All he could think about was, ‘how many sides of your personality are there’ deep down, he saw him as a fragile, soft person.

It pissed him off. All these thoughts.

He stopped walking, head tipped back toward the sky. “I hate him” he said, but it came out quieter than he meant. “I really do.”

The wind didn’t answer. Just brushed his hair into his face and made his eyes sting.

He sat down by the curb under a streetlight, elbows on his knees, cigarette burning down between his fingers. He felt something in his chest tighten until it hurt. His throat ached. He blinked hard, but the tears came anyway.

He wasn’t crying because he loved Jisung. That wasn’t it. It was just—everything. The confusion, the wanting, the anger that came with wanting something he couldn’t admit out loud.

He wiped at his face roughly, muttering, “This is so fucking stupid” but it didn’t stop anything. The tears still fell, quiet and slow.

Across the street, half hidden behind a parked car, Jisung stood with his hands stuffed in his cropped jacket pockets. He’d seen Minho leave the bar alone and followed, maybe out of habit, maybe out of guilt. He told himself it was just to make sure Minho got back okay. For… research purposes ofc..

But now, watching him sit there under the streetlight, shoulders shaking slightly, he couldn’t move.

He didn’t know what hurt more, seeing Minho like that or realizing that maybe, deep deep down, he was part of the reason he ended up there.

Minho took another shaky breath, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t hate him” he said, then quickly followed it up “I just hate that I don’t.”

Jisung exhaled slowly.

He thought about walking over, maybe saying something dumb to make him laugh. But something stopped him. The look on Minho’s face didn’t need words. It needed space. (?)

So he stayed there in the dark, watching him from a distance, from a far, just like he’s been doing for years. Admiring from a far, but Minho will never know that.
Some things stay same way, he was always close enough to care, too far to do anything about it.

***

Minho’s chest started tightening again, faster this time, his breaths short and shallow. His hands shook a little as he tugged his jacket tighter around himself.

“Fuck i gotta calm down…” he mumbled to himself

He dug his phone out of his pocket, fingers fumbling, and quickly shoved in his earphones. He hit play, letting Reflections by The Neighbourhood fill his ears, drowning out the city.

Minho sat there, back against the cold metal of the lamppost, eyes squeezed shut as the song filled his head. His chest was starting to ease, but his hands still trembled in his lap. He could feel the air biting at his skin, hear the low hum of traffic somewhere far off. Everything else just… blurred.

“Didn’t think you were the type to cry outside a bar” a voice said quietly.

Minho’s whole body jolted. He looked up so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet, even if he was sitting… “What the— Jesus, Jisung” he stammered, clutching his chest. “You can’t just— sneak up on people like that.”

Jisung was standing there, hands in his pockets, looking like he hadn’t even broken a sweat walking out here. His expression wasn’t smug for once. It was soft, just a little. “You were kinda hard to miss” he said, nodding toward the ground. “Your frustration is loud.”

Minho’s mouth opened, ready to deny it, but nothing came out. He turned his head away, muttering “i Didn’t ask you to come.”

“I know” Jisung said. Then he walked over anyway, close enough that Minho could smell the faint cologne on his shirt. Still mixed with all the liqours Jisung mixes all night long. “But I did.”

He looked down at Minho for a second, quiet, then reached out and tugged one of the earphones from his ear before Minho could stop him. “What are we listening to?”

“The Neighbourhood, and what do you mean we” Minho muttered, still avoiding his eyes.

Jisung hummed like he already knew that. He slid the earphone into his own ear, sharing the wire, their shoulders brushing. “Good taste for someone so boring and old like you”

“Yah im not old, watch your tongue u brat” minho lightly smiled at his own comment.

They both stared ahead, Minho at the pavement, Jisung at the sky. The song hummed softly between them, all mellow and heavy, the lyrics threading through the silence.

Minho’s heartbeat started to steady again, syncing with the rhythm. The panic he’d been holding onto slipped away without him realizing. Jisung’s presence didn’t fix it. It just… made it easier to breathe.

He finally looked up, following Jisung’s gaze. The stars were faint but scattered all across the dark sky, and Jisung’s face was lit just enough by the streetlamp for Minho to see the tiny curve of a smile tugging at his mouth.

“You ever notice,” Jisung said suddenly, voice low, “that stars always look better when you’re not looking for them?”

Minho glanced at him, unsure if it was supposed to mean something or if Jisung was just saying shit again. But when he looked back at the sky, he got it.

He didn’t say anything back. Didn’t need to.

For a while, they just sat there, listening, breathing, the world slowing down around them. Jisung watched the stars.
Minho watched the brightest star of them all, Jisungie.

‘Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise…
I see my reflections in your eyes.’