VerityInTheBuilding
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It was a nightmare. He was hungry and it was almost 1 am. Why would anyone just stare at the shelf that long? Is he some kind of health freak looking for protein rich cornflakes or something? Do those exist? Minho was clearly in his head and almost missed the guy take a huge breath, then exhale. His shoulders actually slumped and his face fell. It was like watching an anime character come to life.
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Ever since he was 14 years old, Jisung has always spent his summers with his dad, even though he’s never around due to being one of the most famous singers in the world. He’s worried this summer might be the worst one yet, having to spend it across the country, away from his friends and family at his dad’s new beach house.
But what happens when he meets his dad’s neighbor and best friend since high school, who never told him that Jisung existed?
Or Minho is a 36 year old writer and Jisung is a 20 year old looking for someone to make his summer worthwhile.
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Now, they’re several hours, a slow dance, and too many colorful shots that taste of cherries and something spicy into the wedding, and finally, they’ve found themselves at the edge of the dance floor, in a more secluded corner of the tent.
Jisung has his head on Minho’s shoulder, and they’re swaying to the beat of the song that Jisung is muttering the lyrics to quietly. Satisfied with the fact that no one else will hear his thoughts, Minho allows himself a bit of self-indulgence to admit that it’s a perfect night.
And then, Jisung looks up at him and says, “Marry me.”
(Minho didn’t think he’d come out of his friends’ wedding engaged, but Jisung has always had a knack for surprising him.)
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Jisung is bad at relationships and Minho doesn't believe in them, ergo they're just fucking. Absolutely just fucking. Really, truly. No strings attached.
Ignore anyone who alleges otherwise.
(or the one in which two commitmentphobes somehow fall into a relationship with each other.)[ Russian ]
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There is a rumble in his chest, a start of a growl, upper lip twitching. His fingers curl tightly around Minho's wrist.
"Easy," Minho hums like it's nothing, "you don't wanna get fussy with me."
[or: Minho tilts the universe and reshapes everything Jisung has known his whole life.]
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Jisung's got the mother of all crushes on Chan, the hot third year who helps out with his composition class.
Chan's weird (hot) friend complicates things.