quokbitmiso
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Summary
Jisung is perfectly fine with Minho not staying. Until he isn’t.
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Summary
“I would love to see you again sometime, Mr. Lee.” His eyes trail meaningfully down Minho’s face to what must be his lips before returning. Minho senses more than feels when Jisung’s hand moves to somewhere near Minho’s knee.
He’s stopping him before he realizes.
“I-I-” Minho can hardly think. Can barely breathe with Jisung this close. “Hyung...I’m sorry i-if I gave you the wrong, um, impression...”
Jisung pulls back a bit to look more clearly at Minho. His voice darkens perceptibly when he speaks.
“And have I? Got the wrong impression of you?”
OR
Minho is a teacher and Jisung is the single father of one of his students. It's wrong for so many reasons. So wrong it might be...just right?
Series
- Part 3 of Bottom Minho Bingo
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"Who are you writing all of these love songs about?"
The question is asked in the recording booth before every comeback. Sometimes it's the sound engineer with a laugh. Once it was an intern who had to forward the lyrics to the higher-ups. It's very often Changbin who drops it like a passing joke, just happy enough to have some lyrics on paper before a deadline. And it's almost always Chan, whose eyes light up and dim just as quickly when Jisung shrugs his shoulders, mutters about it being about a friend they hadn't met or about the leads from a drama he was watching.
But when Minho stays in the studio long after he was needed, melts into the hoodie Jisung could swear he had been wearing for the past four days and asks the question as though he were asking about the weather, the very walls of the recording booth begin to shatter.
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“Shit, god, we’re—we’re moving onto the bed,” Jisung pants, voice faint.
Minho raises his brows, blinking in confusion, but compiles, crawling onto the bed to join Jisung making himself comfortable against the bed frame. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, ‘s just,” Jisung inhales, slowly, grounding himself, “I’m so, so gay, bro.”
【𝐨𝐫】Han Jisung—a music genius, epitome of all that’s sexy, and... very straight. Lee Minho—Jisung’s bandmate and a dancer, without a single straight bone in his men-loving body. Inconveniently, Han Jisung falls under the ‘men’ category—Minho is utterly, thoroughly, fucked.
At least, until Jisung doesn’t get an idea. -
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Alone, that is what he is meant to be. Every day Minho wakes to a world obsessed with soulmates. Music, television, and books all celebrate the soul’s quest for its perfect mate. Minho doesn’t have one. It’s been a struggle but he’s come to accept it. That is until he meets Han Jisung.
***
Pushing away from the warmth holding him he looks into his mother’s eyes. Eyes filled with fear and heartbreak blink back at him.
“Eomma. I don’t have a soulmate.”
________________________________________“Perfection.”
The single word demolishes the dam keeping his emotions at bay. Heavy sobs fall from him as he leans against Felix. Years of worry, anxiety, and fear are washed away by the tide of his soulmate’s affection. His soulmate had found him and they think he is perfect. Him? The blind boy who feels the need to hustle for affection and prove his worth. Him, Han Jisung is perfect in the eyes of his soulmate.