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When Minho matched with Han Jisung, twenty-one and bisexual, on Tinder weeks ago, he could already discern a few things from their first exchange: that Jisung was funny, a little weird, and Minho definitely wanted to get to know him better. Jisung who tried to seduce him with his extensive knowledge of anime and aliens, who's studying history in university and is doing his thesis on the legacy of Mothman, who dirty talks well enough to make Minho blush when they sext late at night. Jisung who takes selfies from bad angles but still manages to look handsome, who loves horror movies but is afraid of the dark (and, curiously, bubble baths), who never fails to make Minho smile. He's never met anyone quite like him.
Minho asks him out on a proper date because he's undeniably captivated by him, and meets him at a restaurant just outside of campus on a Friday night. Jisung is even more handsome in person, stunning really, with a gorgeous smile, round cheeks, and bright eyes. He shows up wearing a kitschy thrift store t-shirt and a flannel with too-long sleeves, and when Minho stands up to hug him hello, Jisung's body feels so small in his arms. They sit down awkwardly on either side of the booth but it only takes a comforting grin and Jisung's ankle brushing Minho's for things to settle.
Jisung has an entertaining way of speaking: vibrant hand gestures and intonations that make his stories all the more compelling, with a laugh that could eclipse even Minho's most favorite song. Although he talks Minho's ear off like he's comfortable and confident, he keeps picking nervously at his chipping black nail polish, and Minho rests his hand softly on top of his so that he'll relax. He asks him about his thesis to keep him talking and god, Minho didn't think he would ever be so invested in a detailed account of every Mothman sighting since 1975, but here he is, leaning forward with his chin propped on his palm and asking more about the Minneapolis Bridge Disaster of 2007 that Jisung's so spirited about.
Minho doesn't realize how fondly he's been gazing at him until the waitress comes by to drop off their bill and seems like she doesn't want to interrupt them. The restaurant is closing, all of the tables around them have cleared out, and Minho's thumb is still traversing soft circles onto the back of Jisung's soft hand, keen to sit with him anywhere, until night turns to day and then beyond that. Minho invites him back to his place, and as if he's waiting for Minho to change his mind or make up an excuse as to why they suddenly can't anymore, Jisung hesitates a moment, then agrees with shining eyes and a smile full of starlight.
Jisung follows him in his own car back to his place. They're inside for all of a moment before Jisung presses Minho up against the wall and kisses him sharply, right there in the hallway in front of his apartment. His lips are chapped, rough skin with a slick coat of underused chapstick over top, and his mouth tastes a bit like garlic from the breadsticks they had with dinner, but fuck if it isn't one of the best kisses Minho's ever had. He cups Jisung's jaw to keep the kisses coming, and once it feels too hot in the hallway and he knows he needs far more of Jisung's touch, he blindly unlocks his door and pulls him inside.
Jisung's body is covered in beauty marks and peach fuzz, with a birthmark on his stomach and a scar on his thigh. He’s made up of soft curves and hard lines and warm, honey skin. His touch is both pressing and featherlight, gripping Minho tightly, his skinny limbs wrapped around him. His voice is sweet as he asks Minho for more and harder and touch me like that, and his moans are even sweeter. Minho's kisses might be somewhat intended to quiet Jisung down as he fucks him, but they're mostly because he can't stay away from his lips for too long. He whispers praise into Jisung's hot mouth and answers his moans with moans of his own.
He doesn't really want their date to end, he thinks as they lie there naked beneath Minho's duvet, looking at each other in the dim light of his bedside lamp, trying to catch their breath and giggling for no reason other than the fact that they're feeling euphoric. Jisung's dark hair is messy and his eye makeup is smudged, but he's as gorgeous as ever.
"Do you... do you want to stay?" Minho offers, gentle like he might scare him away. Jisung is lying on his side, facing Minho with his head propped up on his hand and the knuckles of his other hand skimming Minho's bicep, a light, almost ticklish sensation. Minho likes it.
"Oh, I... I shouldn't." Jisung looks away, down at where his fingertips are now drawing shapes on Minho's skin. He looks like he's thinking quite hard about something, and his lips purse as his worried lines crease his forehead. "I don't, um... don't want to be a bother, or anything..."
Minho frowns and shakes his head, propping himself up on an elbow. "You wouldn't be at all. You don't... you don't have to, but I like you, and it's late, and— you can stay, if you want to."
Jisung looks back up at him and blinks, a corner of his little mouth slowly tugging upwards. "Okay." He nods, giving Minho's arm a fervent little squeeze. "I want to."
A friendly debate over the best and worst horror films of the past few years helps them decide on a movie to watch, and once they're in Minho's pajamas and entangled in his bed, they talk over the film until Jisung begins to drift to sleep, Minho following soon after.
Minho awakes to the sound of movement in his kitchen, just across the room from his bed in his small studio space. It would be pitch dark if not for the muted light of the range hood, illuminating everything around it in a shallow, warm glow — namely the small, long-legged boy with sex hair and Minho’s big university t-shirt hanging off of him. Jisung is opening the cupboard just above the kitchen sink, staring into the blackness before he closes the door. He opens it again, does the same thing, and closes it once more. Minho furrows his eyebrows and sits up in his bed. If Jisung is hungry and searching for a snack, he’ll have better luck if he at least turns on a light.
Minho sits and watches him silently, not wanting to startle him. Jisung moves on from the cabinet to the sink below it, feeling around for the handle as if it’s not right in front of him, and finally turns the water on. Minho’s brows are furrowed as he observes Jisung staring at the stream of water, hand still on the lever, unmoving. He isn’t sure how much time goes by before Jisung starts mumbling to himself, too low and incoherent for Minho to understand.
“Jisung?” Minho calls softly, but Jisung doesn’t respond. Instead he lets out a long, disgruntled noise, like he’s just heard the worst news of his life. He finally turns the sink off and grips the edge of the counter, dropping his head between his shoulders. Minho blinks in confusion.
“I wish you’d told me,” Jisung says clearly this time, shaking his head. “But what if she—” he stops and stands up straight, frozen for a moment before he points toward a corner of the room but crumples as he starts laughing, eyes squeezed shut and nose wrinkled and everything. “Wow.”
Minho looks off into space as though there’s a hidden camera and he’s being pranked. He vaguely registers Jisung in his peripheral starting to go back to rifling through his cupboards, mumbling nonsense to himself and making more odd noises. Is he fucking possessed? Jisung is a bit of a weird guy, Minho’s found, but this is strange for even him.
“Jisung-ah?” Minho tries again, a little bit louder.
Jisung looks in Minho’s direction, gazing vacantly through him. There’s a silent staredown between them until Jisung slowly raises his arm and, to Minho’s amusement he — he flips him off. He offers Minho his middle finger, and then turns back toward the kitchen to continue perusing. Minho’s eyebrows raise and he chokes on a laugh. His jaw hangs and he watches Jisung incredulously, mouth forming a smile as it dawns on him that Jisung is either possessed by something, or he’s fucking sleepwalking.
The fact that he’s opening Minho’s fridge and taking out his bottle of ketchup while mumbling something about a drink tells Minho that it’s most likely the latter, and Minho’s a bit horrified to see what he’s going to do with all of the things he’s curating from the refrigerator. He's amused more than anything, a crooked smile on his face while Jisung pulls some random condiments and the carton of eggs from Minho's refrigerator and gathers them all on the countertop beside the stove.
He's never dealt with sleepwalking, ever in his life, and he has no idea what to do, watching Jisung take an egg from the carton and hold it in his hands like a precious gem, staring at it like he wants answers. He can recall hearing that you aren't supposed to wake them up, otherwise you might scare or disorient them, and with he and Jisung not knowing each other all that well and him being at Minho's unfamiliar apartment — Minho doesn't really want to get punched in the stomach or egged in the face. He's kind of keen to just sit here and watch, but he also doesn't want Jisung to make a mess with that egg at all, so he slowly slips out of bed and walks cautiously over to him, inching up beside him.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Minho asks, softly enough that it doesn't startle Jisung. He rests a hand on his shoulder and Jisung just keeps contemplating his egg. Minho tries his hardest not to laugh, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose.
“Making breakfast," Jisung sets the egg on the counter and reaches up to look for something in the cupboards, maybe a bowl, or a pan if he's gonna try and cook that egg. Minho can't stop smiling, rubbing lightly at Jisung's back.
“Are you hungry?” Minho plays along.
Jisung grunts and looks at Minho, really at him, and Minho's eyes widen as he looks back at him. He thinks for a moment that Jisung might have woken up, but he says, “you are.”
“Am I?” Minho cocks his head curiously, and Jisung brings his palm up to hover over Minho's face, not quite touching. Minho purses his lips tightly to keep his bubbling laughter in, stiffening as he lets Jisung press his fingertips against his cheek. Jisung gets his own face really close to Minho's, and Minho vaguely pulls his head back, grimacing with the effort it's taking to not fucking laugh right now. He gently wraps his fingers around Jisung's wrist and guides his hand away.
"It's kind of early for breakfast. You should be asleep." Minho murmurs, taking Jisung delicately by the waist and starting to navigate him away from the kitchen, back toward the bed.
"Oh," Jisung breathes, allowing Minho to slowly walk him forward. "I shouldn't be up yet."
"Yeah, Sung. Let's get you back in bed, okay?"
Minho peels the duvet back and helps Jisung into bed, waiting for him to actually lie down and melt into the mattress with a sigh. Minho crawls in the other side and sidles up behind Jisung, wrapping his arms around him to keep him held close and from getting out of bed again. Jisung's body is limp now, deep back into sleep, and Minho finally laughs, softly into his hair. Minho has never met anyone quite like him.
…
He nearly forgets about what happened in the middle of the night when he wakes up in the morning, still wrapped around Jisung who's awake and scrolling on his phone, his back pressed to Minho's chest. Minho makes a little noise to let him know he's awake now, and thumbs over the smooth skin of Jisung's stomach beneath his t-shirt, bushing his lips over the back of his neck.
"Good morning," Jisung says, his morning voice so deep and raspy that it makes Minho's stomach stir.
"Morning," Minho finally opens his eyes, blinking in the morning light and glancing around the room as his vision focuses. It's when he sees the assembly of condiments on the kitchen counter and that singular egg that it all comes back to him, and the giggles come out before he can even stop them. Jisung looks over his shoulder at him, starting to laugh too although he has no idea what's going on. He turns in Minho's arms so he can face him, and Minho covers his eyes with his hand as he tries to stop laughing.
"What?" Jisung chuckles, taking hold of Minho's hand and pulling it away, holding it with both of his. He looks increasingly more confused as Minho just keeps laughing and doesn't answer him. Jisung pushes Minho onto his back and moves to sit on his stomach, arms on either side of Minho's head, exasperation in his laughter. "What the hell is so funny?"
Minho gathers himself, but his grin stays. "Do... do you know you sleepwalk?"
Jisung's expression falls. He regards Minho like he's just seen a ghost, sitting up straight and covering his mouth with both hands.
"Oh my god." Jisung shakes his head, sliding his palms to cover his entire face. "Oh my god, Minho, please say you're just joking."
Minho giggles again, skimming his fingertips along Jisung's bare thighs. "You tried to make breakfast at three in the morning."
"Fuck. Oh my god," Jisung tugs his fingers through his hair and then slaps himself on the forehead. He looks at Minho in distress. "I... it only happens, like, once a week and I already did it a couple of days ago so I didn't think it would happen again and— god, especially not with you. Holy shit." His eyes are starting to water, and Minho perks up, concerned and feeling so awful for laughing. "I'm so embarrassed."
Minho sits up now, looking at Jisung with sincere eyes as he wraps his arms around his waist to pull him into a hug where Jisung hides his face in the crook of Minho's neck. "Hey, don't be embarrassed, it's okay!" He knows that must be easier said than done; sleepwalking on your first date where first impressions are so important, Minho thinks he'd be pretty mortified, too. "It's so, so okay. Don't be embarrassed. It was really entertaining. You're just as charming when you're asleep as you are when you're awake."
Jisung lifts his head and meets Minho's kind eyes, his own still full of tears but Minho's sincerity has him smiling again. It's quickly becoming one of Minho's favorite sights. He kisses Jisung's nose, and the younger boy wraps his arms around Minho's neck. "Thank you for not... I don't know." As entertaining as it was, Minho wouldn't have let Jisung hurt himself, or try to wander out into the hall, or try to take advantage of him, or any other awful thing he imagines could happen when Jisung sleepwalks. "Thank you."
This may have just been their first date, a hook-up even, but Minho really hopes that there will be more because he likes Han Jisung. Jisung who makes Minho’s name sound like a melody, who wrinkles his nose when he smiles, who sleepwalks once (or twice) a week, who has more facets and intricacies than Minho has even begun to find and he can’t wait to find them all.
"Do you wanna go out again sometime?"
Jisung looks surprised, and Minho can't believe that he could ever worry about someone not wanting to see him again, not wanting to know more about him and keep having their day made by Han Jisung himself. "Yeah," Jisung smiles, showing all of his pretty teeth. "I want to."