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“And then I realized I said it out loud!” Minho's hand reaches for his forehead to weakly slap it. “I told her straight to her face that she's a dump old hag! Oh God, I'm an idiot..”
The boy's head drops onto the table as Jisung bursts into laughter over yet another story from Minho. Thanks to his sharp tongue, he often finds himself in various situations that leave everyone who hears them doubled over with laughter. Although at the beginning of their acquaintance Jisung thought this guy was sensible and cool-headed, it turned out that it's quite easy to throw him off balance.
“Ugh, don't start. Just do the homework she gave you properly and then tell her about the tough day you had. I think that will be enough for her,” he says, patting Minho on the shoulder to the accompaniment of tired groans from him.
“Why does this always happen to me?” If Jisung didn't know him so well, he might have thought he was about to burst into tears. “And why aren't you patting my head?”
The guy snorts at how offended the familiar voice sounds, but still complies with his friend's request. Jisung gently strokes the chestnut hair, which recently had a reddish tint. To his modest opinion, it looked incredible.Though he's lying because Minho always looks incredible, and his hair color has nothing to do with it.
“Feeling better?” A satisfied hum indicates that he’s truly starting to feel better.
Minho turns to him, still sticking to the McDonald's table, which has already become their personal spot. Although, in reality, Jisung never thought they would become so close and even call each other best friends. It was two years ago, a freshers' party. Chan, his online friend who got into the same college as him, practically dragged Minho along. They exchanged bewildered glances and remained silent for most of the evening until, at the end, Jisung noticed the wallpaper on the guy's phone with a collage of frames from anime made by Ghibli. And everything spun so fast that he forgot what it was like to live without Minho. He forgot what it was like not to feel like a love-struck fool.
Jisung experienced this feeling only twice. In tenth grade, he had a crush on a cute basketball player with whom they went on a few dates, but ultimately, it still didn't work out.
The second time happened during their sleepover, when Jisung woke up in Minho's arms and barely resisted the urge to kiss him. However, there was one problem.
The sound of a notification rings out, and Minho quickly grabs his phone to check the message. A satisfied smile almost instantly appears on his face, as if he received a scholarship, not just a message from someone. Jisung swallows down the unpleasant feeling of jealousy along with his coke, and then gathers the strength to ask:
“Wow, did you win the lottery or something?”
“What?” Minho smiles playfully. “Where did that come from?”
“Your face is about to crack right now,” Jisung reluctantly responds, hearing the familiar snort in reply.
“Well, remember the girl from the economics faculty?” he nods and mentally prepares for whatever Minho is about to say. “She agreed to go on a date with me!”
Jisung can barely hear the sound of his heart breaking anymore, since Minho seems to shatter it almost every week, constantly going out on dates as if it was some kind of hobby.
He does it so often that Jisung lacks the energy to hide his tear-streaked face after the usual ritual of crying and sniffling into his pillow.
So that's it. Minho likes girls. He's straight, and Jisung has terrible taste in guys because his second crush is once again a failure. What in the name of God is wrong with his life? Chan says it's a rhetorical question. Those philologists…
“Seriously?” he feigns genuine surprise and shouts with joy. “Congratulations! I'm so happy for you, Ho!”
Jisung rushes over to him with a hug, accompanied by Minho's laugh, which always sounds so wonderful to him. After hearing such news, the best place to be is nestled against someone’s shoulder, showing complete happiness. Unfortunately, the first time Minho was asked out on a date, he was caught off guard and had to come up with a silly excuse to get away from him. Jisung didn't realize he could run so fast. Now he knows, and he wishes he didn't.
“It feels like I've won the jackpot,” Minho continues to giggle, hugging his friend even tighter. “And I'm so grateful for your support and that you're genuinely happy for me. Not like Chan. He always just rolls his eyes.”
Jisung feels a small pang of guilt, thinking that Chan might be reacting this way because of him. Although, it could also be due to Chan's nature and principles, since he considers it stupid to go on dates with almost random people.
“You know him, he just sees things differently,” he sighs as Minho’s fingers gently massage his scalp.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m so happy you understand me. I’m really grateful to you, Sungi.” The sweet nickname completely melts Jisung, and he relaxes into his warm embrace.
If he had the chance to stay in those arms forever, he would do anything. He’d move mountains, pull stars from the sky, make a deal with the devil, and do countless other foolish things, because with each passing day, Minho takes up more space in his heart. Jisung is just waiting for it to finally burst, so he can forget every sweet dream that keeps creeping into his mind.
He barely makes it to the apartment, but quickly unlocks the door and steps into the hallway. His body collapses onto the cold floor as Jisung lies there, staring blankly at a single spot. He should have gotten used to the irrational feeling of betrayal that surfaces before each of Minho's dates with someone else. However, his mind and heart had other plans, so he’ll spend Friday evening with ice cream and some anime. Maybe tonight, he’ll make it through without shedding any tears.
It takes Jisun about an hour to realize he was wrong, when he’s wiping away tears from a cliché romantic anime confession. He doesn't understand why he can't have what the characters on the screen have. Sweet kisses, little gifts that become treasured, words of love that perfectly accompany warm embraces. It’s almost nothing, but Jisung doesn’t know what that feels like.
Even if Minho calls them soulmates, halves that perfectly complete each other, he still gives an admiring look to someone else and leaves Jisung with a brief, "It suits you." They could have been a perfect couple, but who knew Jisung never had a chance from the start? Fate is mocking him.
Just as he starts to wallow in self-pity, an insistent doorbell interrupts his thoughts. Who had the audacity? The clock shows midnight, and his irritation grows with each step toward the door. However, his surprise is palpable when he looks through the peephole and sees Minho.
He doesn't hide his surprise when he opens the door to find Minho in a white silk shirt and black jeans. He wants to ask something, but Minho gets too close and covers his lips with his own. Jisung is frozen in place as the guy continues to increase his pace, not noticing any resistance. Cold hands quickly find their way under his hoodie as Jisung barely manages to respond to the demanding kiss. He lets Minho’s tongue slip into his mouth and then catches the taste of wine, not much of which is needed for Minho to lose control.
As much as Jisung enjoys the feeling of soft lips on his, something he’s dreamt of almost every day, he's not about to give in to Minho just because his date didn't go well. He places his hands on Minho's shoulders to push him away, but instead, Minho presses closer. Jisung gasps right into the kiss, his heart racing wildly, but it’s hard to pinpoint what exactly is causing the excitement. Minho persists, capturing Jisung’s lips despite his attempts to pull away. Pressed against the hallway wall, Jisung feels Minho’s strong arms around his waist. Instead of the anticipated pleasure, all Jisung experiences is mounting irritation that threatens to boil over into anger.
Jisung can’t take it anymore and clenches his teeth, biting his tongue in frustration. Minho hisses in pain and pulls back, allowing Jisung to shove him away with a furious glare. Both of them are breathing heavily, but Minho's eyes are glazed and unfocused—he’s drunk as fuck.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Jisung snaps angrily, while Minho responds with slow blinks. It seems he’s just now realizing what he’s done.
“Sungi—” he looks at him with large, tear-streaked eyes. “I didn’t mean to—Sungi, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Jisung flinches at the sight of tears on Minho’s flushed cheeks, then sighs in exasperation. What is he supposed to do in this situation?
“Ho, let’s talk about this in the morning, okay?” Minho quickly nods, and the sight of him looking like an abandoned kitten breaks Jisung’s heart. “Go take a shower. I’ll find you some clothes. Just wait a bit..”
He tries to head to his room, but Minho’s hand firmly grips his wrist.
“Ho?”
“Please don’t leave me,” Minho pleads. “Sungi, don’t leave me. I was an asshole. I didn’t mean to. I need you, only you. I’ve always wanted only you. Just you, Sungi, please.” Jisung listens to Minho’s desperate words, his mouth hanging open and his mind completely blank, as if all his thoughts have been wiped away.
He soon realizes that Minho is just drunk, and needs to be put to bed quickly.
“Ho, I'm not going to leave you, it's okay,” Jisung says soothingly. “It's just a shower, and then you’ll get some rest.” His unexpectedly gentle tone makes Minho’s grip loosen, giving Jisung the chance to guide him to the shower.
Minho whines about the cold, but immediately quiets down as he steps under the warm stream of water. Jisung is screaming inside as he searches for another pair of pants and a T-shirt. The situation feels almost surreal. Maybe in the morning, he’ll wake up and realize it was all just a bizarre dream? It doesn’t matter, though, because just as Jisung is about to bring the clothes to the bathroom, he finds Minho standing there in nothing but his underwear.
“Was it so hard to wait, goddamn..” Jisung sighs, avoiding Minho’s gaze as he hands him the clothes, then starts to leave the room. But just as he’s about to go, Minho grabs his arm again.
“Are you leaving? Aren’t you going to stay?” Minho looks like a lost child in a supermarket, and Jisung can’t shake the feeling that Minho knows exactly how he’s affecting him.
“I need to do the dishes, but I’ll come back after,” Jisung says, trying to pull away. Minho nods but holds onto his hand.
“Ho? I can’t go if you’re holding me.”
Minho plants a quick kiss on Jisung’s lips and chuckles at his surprised expression.
“A goodnight kiss,” he says with a beaming smile, still flushed from the shower.
“Goodnight, Sungi.”
Jisung quickly retreats to the kitchen, leaning against the sink piled high with dishes. His face is burning, and his head feels like it’s about to explode. What does all this mean? Minho has never acted this way before, even after the worst dates and days. Yes, he can be a bit clingy and fragile, but never to this extent.
If Jisung had the chance, he’d sort all this out right away. But Minho seems completely lost, and Jisung's frustration only grows as he runs a hand through his hair, making it even more disheveled. After considering a thousand scenarios and possibilities, he mutters to himself before grabbing a sponge:
"Fuck it. We'll deal with this in the morning. I'm done with this nonsense. Enough. Dishes first, then sleep. I need him to explain his behavior—damn it.”
The mountain of dishes disappears, along with the last remains of Jisung's energy. He slowly walks into the room where Minho lies sprawled like a starfish, softly snoring. He looks cute and cozy, and Jisung can’t help but smile as he sits on the edge of the bed. His gaze drifts over Minho’s fluffy hair, sharp nose, and finally lingers on his long eyelashes that flutter slightly.
“A masterpiece..” the word slips from his lips, and he immediately turns away.
Jisung hisses as if he’s been burned, then collapses onto the bed, exhausted. His eyes close on their own, and his consciousness fades. He falls asleep hugging a pillow and wakes up the same way. At first, he looks around, searching for Minho or any sign of his presence. A disappointed groan escapes him when Jisung sees the same silk shirt, and he buries his face into the pillow. He must have done something really bad in a past life to deserve this.
A quiet humming drifts in from the kitchen, unmistakably Minho’s. Jisung reluctantly gets out of bed, heading first to the bathroom to make himself look a little better than a homeless person. Only then does he quietly enter the kitchen, where Minho, at first, doesn’t even notice him.
“Feeling better?” Jisung’s raspy voice startles Minho, who quickly turns his head.
“Sungi? You scared me,” Minho relaxes and continues, “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for looking out for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you—”
“You’d probably be out kissing some random stranger on the street. Though maybe you’ve already done that?” Jisung doesn’t even try to make it sound friendly, the memories of last night are still too fresh.
The boy by the stove bites his lower lip, nervously shifting his gaze between Jisung’s face and the pan.
“I—I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry,” Minho mutters without meeting Jisung’s eyes, clearly embarrassed.
“That’s all you’ve got?” Jisung stares at him intently, but doesn’t show any anger or irritation.
“And what else do you want me to say?” Minho drops the shyness and returns to his usual self. Finally, the conversation is taking a turn.
“Let’s go over this. You show up at my place completely wasted, kiss me as soon as you walk in, and don’t let go until I bite you. Then, of course, you apologize and I, being a good friend, offer you a shower. Then you grab my hand and start begging,” he clears his throat to mimic the intonation accurately, “Sungi, please don’t leave me. I was an asshole. I didn’t mean to. I need you. I’ve always wanted only you.”
Minho’s face goes pale, and his hands tremble as he turns off the heat to prevent the food from burning.
“So you really have nothing to say?” Jisung stands up from his chair and steps closer, almost face-to-face with his friend.
“I don’t remember any of that and I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Ho, come on, you should work on your lying skills,” Jisung rolls his eyes.
“Fuck, fine, you want the truth—here’s the truth,” Minho growls, but Jisung isn’t intimidated at all. “I couldn’t get you out of my head for the past few months. Last night, I couldn’t even last two hours with her—I kept thinking about you, and it drove me insane. I downed a bottle of wine and came straight to you. When you opened the door, I didn’t think, I just threw myself at you. And—”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me earlier and kept talking about other girls?!” Jisung yells, shocked by his own intensity.
It’s that stupid feeling where happiness and anger merge into one. Jisung is truly happy to hear this from his beloved, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten everything else.
“Because I didn’t know what to do and tried to just forget about you. If you’ve forgotten, I’ve never liked guys!” Minho responds just as loudly.
“Oh, really? I know that better than anyone. Do you know how many stages of acceptance I went through and how many times I’ve soaked my pillow with tears? Do you think it was easy for me to hear every time about Soyeon’s pretty dress or Somi’s hair?”
“I—” Minho’s tongue falters in shock. “Oh my God, are you in love with me?”
“Bingo!” Jisung’s laugh is more anxious than joyful. “I haven’t figured out the prize yet.”
He sits back down in his chair, dropping his head onto the table. It’s a bit painful, but he doesn’t care.
“Sungi, wait,” Minho sounds utterly confused and maybe even scared. “But you didn’t react to any of my date proposals!”
Jisung snorts.
“Don’t tell me you were testing me like that?”
“Well, if you don’t want to hear it, I won’t say it,” Minho grumbles under his breath.
“God, you’re an idiot. Chan was right! I should have listened to him more.”
“Chan knew about this?!” Minho screeches.
“He’s my best friend, of course he knew. He’s basically a lie detector on legs.”
“Fuck, Sungi, it was really just a jealousy tactic. I’ve only been on those dates twice, including the one yesterday. That’s the truth,” Jisung feels the warmth of Minho’s body against his back and his arms gently wrapping around his waist.
“You’re stupid and awful,” he mutters in response.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Minho whispers back.
“But I still love you which probably makes me stupid too,” Jisung huffs, then gets up from the table to face Minho.
Minho bites his lower lip, unsure of what to say. “So… can we try again?” he finally asks.
The corners of Jisung’s mouth slowly lift into a gentle smile.
“Did we have something to start over with?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” Minho pouts, but Jisung simply shakes his head.
“You’re kidding me! I’m talking about moving past being just friends and starting to date. Is that clear enough?”
“Yes, that sounds interesting. But first, learn what active consent means and stop trying to make me jealous,” Jisung pulls Minho closer, burying his nose in his stomach.
“Did I already mention that I acted like a fool?”
“Yes, but that’s no excuse. Show me in practice,” Jisung smirks slyly, amusing Minho.
“Alright, Sungi, can I kiss you?”
“Let me think,” Jisung teases, while Minho furrows his brows. “Is that a threat?”
“Hmm, let me see..”
Jisung laughs and pulls Minho down by the neck to kiss him. This time, their lips meet slowly, and Minho sighs contentedly as Jisung’s tender fingers brush through his hair.
Jisung can hardly believe this is really happening, and he’ll probably think it’s a dream for at least a week. Even as Minho covers his face with butterfly kisses and murmurs sweet words, Jisung might ask to be pinched to confirm it’s not just a fantasy. But Minho will only smile and continue his affectionate gestures.